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h0tch-r0cket · 3 years ago

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Infatuation (18+) {a.h.} : chapter 5

summary: you needed a job. aaron hotchner needed a babysitter. the rest was inevitable.

word count: 5.5K

warnings: explicit language, drinking alcohol, smoking, building tension : )

table of contents

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"Y/N?" Jack called out from the kitchen of the Hotchner home. You had picked him up from school, like always, and he was working on his homework as soon as possible.

"What's going on, Jack?" you asked as you placed your finger in between the pages of your copy of The Centaur which you brought with you to keep you occupied.

"I need help with my math," he said softly.

You put your bookmark in the novel and headed into where the little Hotchner was awaiting your help. You sat down across from him and glanced down at the papers that were sprawled out in front of him. "What do you need help with?"

"Well, Ms. Kingston showed us today how to add and subtract with three digit numbers like 100 and all that stuff. I get confused when you have to borrow from one of the other numbers when you subtract," he said as he tapped the pencil on the table, a habit you noticed Aaron did as well when he was working on his own work.

"Alright, let me take a look here," you said as you grabbed the paper from him.

After a few minutes of explaining the way you go about subtracting the numbers to Jack, he got it pretty quickly. "Thanks, Y/N!"

You ruffled his hair as you stood up from the table. "You got it. If you need me, I'm just going to be in the living room, okay?"

"Okay," he said as he moved on to the next parts of his worksheet.

You settled back onto the couch, bringing your knees up to your chest as you read the novel. You were just reaching one of your favorite parts, your attention glued to the pages in front of you. It was the part where George, the father of the story, had spent his very last dollar to bring home a sandwich for his wife even though he and his son were stranded for the night because their car broke down. There was something about the sentiment, the idea that he would give up his very last dollar, that always warmed your heart.

Just as you finished up the chapter you were on, the small pitter patter of feet coming into the living room interrupted you continuing on with your reading. You looked up from the book to see Jack coming towards you, taking hard steps as he walked.

He plopped down on the couch next to you and let out a low sigh. "What's the matter, kiddo?" you asked as you placed the book neatly on your lap.

"I want dad to come home already," he said quietly as he swung his legs against the side of the couch.

"I know you do, Jack. But hey, he should be here soon. Want to watch a movie in the meantime?" You weren't sure what else to do for him. It was the first time that Jack had ever expressed that sentiment to you.

He nodded his head lightly, not saying anything to actually answer your question verbally. "Alright. As long as you finished your homework," you told him. He simply nodded yet again, his face more somber than normal.

You tried to figure out why he had the sudden mood change from when you picked him up from the bus. You thought maybe he was just tired or perhaps he wasn't feeling good. You knew that most kids always wanted their parents around when they were sick.

As the different possibilities ran through your head as you looked for a movie that the two of you had yet to watch, Jack's small voice piped up from next to you. "Y/N?"

You turned your head to look at him to already be met with his gaze. "Yeah Jack?"

"Can I sit with you?" he asked softly.

You nodded your head and straightened yourself up more on the couch so he could sit on your lap. As he quickly scooted into your lap, your copy of The Centaur fell underneath the couch.

"Sorry Y/N. I'll pick it up," Jack said as he went to reach down and grab it. You pulled him back up towards you and let his back rest against your frontside.

"It's alright. I'll get it later. Pick out a movie to watch," you told him. You passed him the TV remote and let him scroll through the different family movies, hoping that he would find something to occupy his thoughts until Aaron got home from his lectures.

------

As much as he tried, Aaron Hotchner could not focus on the lecture that he was giving in his class. As he sat at his office desk at the university, he flipped through his notes which to anyone else other than him would not have made any sense at all with the way that the thoughts were not cohesive and the exhaustive amounts of abbreviations that littered the pages.

He planned the day's lecture to be about Orpheus and Eurydice, lovers tragically torn apart, but he couldn't gather his thoughts cohesively to provide his students with what he deemed to be the proper lesson.

His thoughts were foggy. Jarbled. He thought he would have shaken the thought of the way your hands touched the day prior. But it was all he found himself thinking about. He wasn't quite sure why. It was a simple accident.

A simple accident that made him want to rethink the way he had been so closed off with you. The way he was always curt. He craved more, despite the fact that he knew he shouldn't pursue anything with you.

He rubbed his temples, sighing in defeat. At that point, the lecture was going to be what it was going to be.

Aaron gathered all of his things in his satchel and headed down to the auditorium before his students filed in. He shed himself of his suit jacket, leaving him in a baby blue dress shirt and tan slacks. He organized his notes yet again and placed them in order on the podium that was in the center of the room.

His students filed in soon after, a chorus of Good afternoon, Professor Hotchner, How are you Professor Hotchner? coming from them.

Aaron gave everyone a few minutes to settle in before glancing at his watch for the time. He clapped his hands together once loudly to get the attention of the class. The side conversations slowly died down, only a few soft murmurs being heard through the crowd.

"Alright folks. Let's settle in. I know today is Friday and you all are eager to get out of here so I'll try to make this as quick and easy as possible," he said, projecting his voice so that everyone could hear him. "I'll run through attendance quickly and then we'll get started."

After taking attendance and marking the absentee students, Aaron grabbed the textbook for the class from out of his satchel. "If you all could open to page 265 that would be absolutely fantastic." Synchronous opening of textbooks and flipping of pages filled the auditorium as the students quickly followed Aaron's instructions.

He began to walk in front of the room, arms crossed over his chest as he glanced out into the sea of students. "Now, does anyone have any ideas as to what the story of Orpheus and Eurydice is about?" He looked into the crowd, being met with blank stares, eyes glazing over, and even a few students nodding their heads back as they fought the calling of sleep during class.

Not one student raised their hand. He caught the students glancing at one another, hoping that someone, anyone, would have the answer. But there was no such luck.

Part of him wondered if you knew the story. You probably would know the tale like the back of your hand, being that you seemed to be meticulous with whatever it was that you set your mind to. He was curious to see just how much you knew about mythology.

He decided that the next time he saw you, he would try to find out just that.

Focus, he thought to himself.

Clearing his head of you as much as possible, he rolled his sleeves up and walked to the whiteboard, uncapping the black Expo marker that laid next to it. "Orpheus," he said as the marker squeaked on the board as he wrote the name down, "is the son of Apollo and Calliope. Well, that is according to some accounts. Some people say that Orpheus had a different father," he clarified. Aaron turned his attention back to his students, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. "Can anyone at least remind me as to who those two figures are in mythology? Apollo and Calliope?"

A hand rose in the middle of the auditorium slowly. "Yes?" he said, letting the student know that they could answer the question.

"Well, Apollo is considered to be the god of poetry and music. Calliope on the other hand, was one of the nine muses. She was the muse of history," the girl answered.

Aaron shook his head, placing his hands on his hips and he continued to pace back and forth in the front of the room. "Close. Calliope is actually the muse of poetry. Clio was the muse of history," he explained. "But I'm sure you knew that, right Ms. Sinclair?" he said with a small smirk on his face.

The girl nodded and scribbled down some more notes in her notebook, frantic to capture each and every word that Aaron uttered throughout the rest of the lecture.

Aaron took a brief pause and scanned through the crowd yet again. When he noticed one of his students clearly scrolling on his phone rather than focusing on the lecture, he debated about whether or not he should say something. But when the student started to show his phone around to those near him, he knew he would have to address the obvious distraction from the lecture.

"Mr. McMillan, if your phone is more important than listening to the rest of this lecture, which does cover a large part of your final, please be my guest and take the rest of the day for yourself," Aaron said as he raised his hand towards the door, suggesting that the boy leave the auditorium. He watched as the boy's face turned a shade of pink as he slipped the phone into his pocket. Aaron mouthed a small thank you to the student and continued with the lecture.

"As I was saying, with the help of Ms. Sinclair, Orpheus is the son of Apollo and Calliope. Eurydice," he said as he wrote the next name down on the board and drew a line connecting the two names together, "on the other hand was a beautiful Spartan princess. She married Orpheus. He played her beautiful songs on his lyre, which is just a smaller version of a harp. Orpheus was an exceptional musician. But that makes sense considering who his parents were."

He leaned back against his desk, partially sitting on top of it. He crossed his feet and rested his hands on each side of him on the desk to hold himself up. "However, tragedy struck the young couple. Eurydice was bit by a snake and died. Orpheus was heartbroken. So much so that he only played the most somber and melancholy songs on his lyre. "

Aaron paused for a moment, letting his students jot down their notes onto their paper. "But that didn't discourage Orpheus from fighting for his true love."

Aaron pushed himself off the desk and started to pace again, rubbing his thumb against his pointer finger as he walked. "He was not willing to give up so easily. So, he came up with a plan."

He walked over to the whiteboard again and wrote the word Underworld on the board. "Now, what are some things you know about the Underworld?"

"It's Hades' domain," a student called out.

Aaron drew an arrow from the word and wrote Hades underneath it. "And Hades is?"

"Zeus' brother," the same student replied.

"Very good. What else do we know about this Underworld, the realm where the souls of the departed end up in Greek mythology?" Aaron probed.

"River Styx!" another student called out enthusiastically.

"Mhm." He added another line to the diagram and turned to face the student that answered. "What about the River Styx?"

"I don't know. I just know it's there," the student laughed.

"Fair enough," Aaron said with a small smile. "We'll be covering that within the next few lessons so I won't worry about drilling it into your heads for the time being. One thing that I do want to mention is Cerberus, the three headed dog that guards the entrance of the Underworld. That will be important for the rest of the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice."

Aaron paused yet again, settling back onto the top of the desk but this time he was fully seated on it, his legs dangling off the side. "Now, Orpheus, being heartbroken at the loss of his wife, came up with a plan. He decided to travel to the Underworld to try to regain his love."

"That's crazy. Who would want to go to that place? I mean, I get it he loved the girl but is that even possible?" a student asked.

"It was a wild plan, I will give you that. But Orpheus succeeded. He traveled to the Underworld and managed to strike a deal with Hades after playing his music for him. The ruler of the Underworld was so moved that he granted Orpheus his wish to bring Eurydice back to the land of the living. Hell, the stories even say that Cerberus, the ferocious guardian of the entrance of the Underworld, was howling in despair of the pain Orpheus' music suggested."

A hand rose amongst the crowd. Aaron took his glasses off, gently biting down on the end of the arm of them. He raised his eyebrows at the student, allowing them to speak.

"There's no way that he got her back that easily. Greek mythology seems to, for the most part, at least stem from some kind of tragedy," the student said, clearly not believing that the tale would end happily ever after.

Aaron took his glasses out of his mouth and shook them in the direction of the student. "Excellent observation, Mr. Roth. That brings us to the next part of our tale. Hades gave Orpheus a stipulation; his wife would be brought back to the land of the living as long as Orpheus did not look back at her while they were still in the Underworld."

He hopped off his desk and hooked his glasses onto the collar of his shirt as he continued with the lecture. "Orpheus made the journey back to the light, but he turned around too soon, full of excitement to be reunited with his wife. She vanished before his eyes and he was heartbroken yet again."

"So the moral of the story is to be patient and have trust in the situations that you find yourself in?" a voice called out.

"Precisely," Aaron said, his voice soft. He glanced down at his watch. "I think that's enough for today. For the next class, think of a time in your life where this story applies. A time where you were impatient and lost something that you worked so desperately hard to get. Class dismissed."

The students filed out of the room quickly, allowing Aaron to follow behind them with his satchel tucked under his arm, the same fervor coursing through his veins to get home. He wanted to see Jack.

He wanted to see you.

————

"Oh! You sank my battleship!" you hollered dramatically as Jack managed to get another one of your ships clear off the board.

"Yes!" he shouted, throwing his fist up in success.

You were happy to see him going back to his normal, happy self. Whatever was bothering him earlier had managed to subside by the time you were done watching The Lion King.

The familiar car alarm chirped in the driveway, causing loyal Buster to run to the door in anticipation to see his owner.

You felt almost the same degree of excitement flowing through your body. It was the first time you were seeing Aaron since his touch was embedded into your head. You were wondering if things would be different. If he would be different.

As the front door opened, Jack ran over to his father and wrapped his arms tightly around his waist. "Hey buddy," Aaron said with a small chuckle as he patted Jack's back.

"I missed you today," Jack said quietly as he looked up at his father.

"I miss you everyday," Aaron said with a smile. His gaze turned to you and he kept the smile plastered on his face. "How's it going, Y/N?"

"Pretty good. Jack just sunk my battleship...again," you joked, feigning annoyance.

Aaron's smile grew a bit wider, the dimples on his face making another appearance.

You couldn't help but smile at him. His smile was contagious and gorgeous. You felt like it was such a rare occasion that he smiled, even though he was smiling more often around you, that you always studied the way his face looked so you would never forget it.

Aaron headed into the kitchen with his things with Jack following close behind. You followed a few moments after, ready to gather your things and head home.

When you came into the kitchen, you saw Aaron place a hand on his hip as he looked down at Jack who held his hands together tightly in a pleading motion.

"Come on, Dad! It will be fun," Jack begged. He put on a big smile for his father, trying to convince him further to whatever idea he had planned.

"Alright, Jack. I wouldn't mind that. Ask her," Aaron said as he turned his attention towards you. You felt yourself get nervous, not sure as to what it was that Jack was about to ask you.

Jack took a step forward and planted himself in front of you as he looked up at you with big, puppy dog eyes. "Y/N, do you want to stay and have dinner with us?" Jack asked excitedly.

"Oh," you said with shock. Your stomach fluttered at the thought of actually staying and spending time with Aaron, even if Jack was still there. But the rational part of your head was yelling at you to leave. You already were thinking about Aaron too much and you were sure you would be even further doomed if you were subject to his charm and wit for the night. "Maybe another time, Jack. I think Esmé was planning on making a nice fancy dinner tonight."

"Please, Y/N," Jack pleaded. "Stay with us and eat." He held his hands firmly together again in a similar fashion to how he was begging his father to go along with the idea in the first place.

You clicked your tongue and scratched the back of your neck, unsure as to what other excuse you could come up with. "I don't want to intrude on the time you and your dad have together, buddy."

Aaron crossed his arms across his chest and you saw him raise his eyebrows for a quick second behind his glasses. "Stay, Y/N. I'm a pretty good cook," Aaron said with a smirk growing on his face.

You felt your stomach twist further into knots at the thought that one, Aaron wanted you to stay and two, that he was going to be cooking some sort of meal for you.

Aaron, on the other hand, felt desperate. He wanted—no, he needed you to stay. He wanted to learn everything there was about you. He wanted to know your passions, your fears. As his eyes searched yours, he saw the battle that was going on in your head as to whether or not you should stay or go.

He was hoping you couldn't see the way he crossed his fingers together subtly, a silent prayer that you would stay.

He didn't know what was coming over him. All he knew was that at that moment, he didn't want you to leave the house. He had tried to push you out of his head all day, but seeing you here at his house and your gorgeous smile, it was taking everything in his power to keep his composure as he felt himself succumbing to his desire to want to be close to you.

You weren't sure what it was but the way Aaron was staring at you, his eyes soft, it was as if he was subtly begging you to stay.

You knew you shouldn't. You already were feeling things that you never thought you would for the man. But a part of you was curious to try to figure out if he was feeling something similar.

"Alright, fine," you said defeated, throwing your hands up in the air. "I'll stay." Jack let out an excited yell before running back into the living room.

You could have sworn you saw Aaron exhale deeply once you came to your decision, as if he was relieved that you were actually staying. "But I'm telling you now Hotchner, if you're not as good a cook as you say you are, there will be hell to pay," you teased as you pointed your finger in his direction.

And to your surprise, Aaron laughed. He genuinely laughed. It was a sound that was pure music to your ears, something that you wished you could have turned back time to get it on a recording.

"I promise. I am a good cook," he said as he turned around and began to take out some different pots and pans.

You walked next to him and leaned up against the counter. "What exactly are you planning on making?"

He turned his gaze to you, a smug look growing on his face. "Well where's the fun in that? It's a surprise," he said quietly, leaning closer in your direction.

You caught a quick whiff of his cologne, the smell of cedar quickly filling your airspace. You bit down on your bottom lip, the closeness to him becoming almost too much to handle.

His warm honey eyes darted down to your lips and back up to your own eyes. He cleared his throat and stood back up straight, starting to pull some random ingredients out of the cabinet in front of him.

You shut your eyes for a second, disappointed by how quickly he stood away from you. "I'll be in the living room with Jack," you said. He nodded silently, making his rounds in the kitchen to cook.

As you made your way into the living room, you couldn't help but think about how close he was. You could have reached your hand out and stroked his cheek. You could have been putty melting in his hands.

Aaron watched you walk out of the kitchen, knowing that you wouldn't see his eyes raking across your body. Your perfume lingered in the space where you were in the kitchen, reminding Aaron just how close his face was to yours, how he could have pulled you by your cheeks to brush his lips against yours.

He wanted you. And he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold back.

———-

"Oh my god," you sighed in content as you took a bite of the food Aaron prepared. He made fettuccine alfredo with chicken. All from scratch.

His eyes shot towards you as he heard the sound of satisfaction fall on your lips. He raised an eyebrow at you, taking a bite of the chicken that rested on his plate. "So, did I live up to your expectations?"

"Mhm," was all you could muster as you took another bite of the pasta.

You watched as Jack twirled the pasta around his fork. He popped it into his mouth and gave his dad a thumbs up. "It tastes good, Dad. I could eat the whole pot!"

"That's an awful lot of pasta," you joked as you took a small sip of the chardonnay that Aaron had poured for the two of you. He insisted it made the meal but you were wondering if it had different indications than what he led on.

"Yeah it is but I could eat it," Jack said. Aaron rolled his eyes jokingly at his son's active imagination.

A few minutes passed and you all were eating in content. This time, there was a much more comfortable silence that fell between you all, something that you could easily get used to.

"So, Y/N, what made you pick up an interest in Greek mythology?" Aaron asked, clearly ripping off the bandaid he had been gripping to all day. He had to know. He wanted to know more about you.

"I took a class in high school, actually. And from there, I've done most of my learning on my own. I don't know," you laughed softly.

God your laugh. Aaron would never get over hearing it. He took a sip of his wine and glanced at you over the rim of the glass, watching you absentmindedly twirl your fork around in the pasta.

"I just find it interesting that there's so many stories that they came up with and they all have some sort of deeper meaning to them."

Aaron nodded in agreement, finding himself entranced with your words. You were right of course. There were so many things those stories explained, like the natural world or even as something simple to not be selfish.

"That's why I like them so much. The interpretation of them all varies and you can learn so much," he added.

"I like the ones with Jason and the Astronauts," Jack interrupted. Small laughs from you and Aaron filled the space between you at Jack's mispronunciation.

"Argonauts," you and Aaron said at the same time, correcting the young Hotchner.

Jack scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. "What's the word?" he asked.

"Argonauts," Aaron repeated.

"Astronauts is cooler," Jack concluded as he took another bite of his chicken. "Can I be excused?"

Aaron glanced at his plate and pointed his fork in the direction of his son's food. "Eat another bite of chicken and you can be."

Jack scarfed down the chicken quickly and left the table.

Realization hit you rather quickly.

It was just you and Aaron. A tinge of pink fell across your face at the fact that you were alone with Aaron.

You cleared your throat and shifted in your seat, sitting up straighter. "So, how did your lecture go today?" you asked.

Aaron shrugged his shoulders and kept his gaze on his plate. "Could have gone better, I suppose."

"What did you talk about?" You took another drink of your wine and this time, it was you glancing at him over the rim of the glass.

"Orpheus and Eurydice."

"That's a good one. Heartbreaking in the end but I like the story of it all," you admitted.

Of course you knew it. Aaron figured you would. He wished you could have been in his class. You clearly knew so much about the subject matter and he was becoming impressed the more you spoke.

"It's definitely one of the sadder ones," he agreed.

You placed your fork down on your napkin, full from the delicious dinner you just ate. "I think it's one of the best representations of agape in Greek mythology that there is," you added, running your finger along the rim of your wine glass.

Aaron felt his nerves go wild.

Agape?

How the hell did you know about that?

You certainly kept him on his toes.

"And you know about agape, the Greek word for the concept of self-sacrificing love. I have to say, Y/N, I really wasn't expecting you to be so well versed in the subject," he admitted. "But figures, a smart girl like you would go above and beyond to learn about whatever you set your mind to." He took another sip of his wine and his eyes were looking at you more intently.

You definitely felt your face blush at his words. You tried to keep your composure as best as possible, but how could you when he was being so fucking charming and looking at you the way he was?

"I am just full of surprises," you teased, making your voice almost a whisper.

You watched as Aaron licked his lips and raised his eyebrows. "You most certainly are," he agreed, his words coming out with an exhale. "Question for you though."

"Hm?"

"What makes you think that the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice is full of agape?" he challenged.

You took a moment to try to cohesively get your thoughts together. Well, as best you could with the way Aaron was looking at you.

"Well for starters, the man literally went to the Underworld to try to get his wife back. It was an unheard of feat. And the fact that Orpheus was willing to do whatever it took to get her back just shows how much he couldn't live without her. How much he loved her."

Aaron nodded slowly, finishing the rest of his wine. "You make a good point there," he said after he swallowed the chardonnay.

You nodded in agreement. You couldn't believe that you were engaging in such a deep conversation with Aaron. But it felt so natural. So right.

You glanced at the clock, seeing that it was almost 9pm. "I think I better get going," you said quietly. You pushed yourself away from the table and placed your dishes in the sink.

When you turned around to go grab your things, you bumped into a solid mass.

Aaron.

He grunted lightly at the contact, a flicker of his smile dancing across his lips.

"Sorry," you said quickly as he looked down at you. You stared at him for a second, as he did to you, before pulling yourself out of your trance and stepping around him to grab your belongings.

"Not a problem," he said as he placed his and Jack's dishes in the sink. "Let me walk you out." You nodded silently and watched as he grabbed the pack of cigarettes off the counter.

He patted the bottom of the carton against his palm before taking one of the cigarettes out, resting it between his lips as he walked with you towards the door.

He opened the door for you and you turned to say your goodbyes.

As much as you truly didn't want to.

"Thank you for dinner," you said with a smile.

"Don't worry about it," he assured as he leaned against the doorframe, the cigarette bouncing between his lips with each word.

"Enjoy the rest of your weekend, Aaron."

"You too, Y/N."

You headed to your car, settling into the driver's seat quickly, your brain still reeling from the events of the night.

You glanced back towards the Hotchner home and saw Aaron still leaning against the door frame, the faint orange glow of the lit cigarette piercing through the darkness of the sky.

You pulled away from the house and headed back home, watching as the Hotchner home disappeared from your rear view mirror.

Once you got home, you opened the door and pressed your back against it, still shocked with the overwhelming feelings that were still in your stomach, your head. Everywhere.

Esmé turned her head around towards you from the couch. When she saw your shocked and speechless expression, a shit-eating grin grew rapidly on her face. "Spill...the...details...now," she demanded as you sat down next to her on the couch.

As you were retelling the way you and Aaron had a few more moments that night, your phone dinged.

"Don't be a fool! Answer it!" Esmé hollered, smacking her hand gently on your leg.

Your heart fluttered when you saw the name of the person texting you.

Aaron Hotchner

-You left your book here. I found it under the couch when I was straightening up.

-Oh, I totally forgot about it! Sorry! I'll grab it on Monday.

-The Centaur, huh? You really are a bit of a nerd when it comes to mythology aren't you?

-Maybe. But it's also just a good book in general.

-I'll have to give it a read then.

-I'm going to test you on it if you do read it, just so you're aware.

-I'll be counting on it.

-Goodnight, Y/N.

-Goodnight, Aaron.

You sighed loudly, trying to ignore Esmé who was staring at you with wide eyes. You clutched your phone tighter in your hand and turned to look at her.

"I'm in such deep shit," you admitted as you leaned back on the couch, resting your head on the headrest.

——

authors note:

i hope you all enjoyed this chapter! i also hope the lecture part wasn't too boring. i figured it was a good change of pace.

thanks for reading! i appreciate the support <3

see you next chapter!

-jordyn

#aaronhotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction

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realm-sweet-realm · 4 years ago

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A one-off request for @lonelyghostwriter: a story about Joey introducing Henry to the more innocent side of magic. This is just a goofy, whimsical ball of fun, and Joey x Henry is implied. This is the last one-off before I’m finishing “The Angel of the Ink Machine.”

The Boris had come out perfect.

The Boris had come out perfect!

And then it had decked him and run away to God knew where, but it had come out perfect! Joey was ecstatic. All he had to do now was hunt the creature down and make a few more and his dream would be fulfilled! And in the meantime, he had one more dream that he needed to fulfill, one that concerned his dear partner, Henry.

Despite sharing so much of his life and soul with Henry, he’d always kept the magic secret from him. He’d moved nearly all his supplies into the studio when Henry had moved in. Even the spell he needed to do regularly to keep disease at bay, he completed before Henry got up in the morning, with a pentagram hidden under the carpeting in their closet. But seeing their cartoon creations brought to life was worth the risk of scaring him- and anyhow, Joey Drew had planned how he’d do this years ago.

After dealing with Buddy’s body and before coming home that night, Joey made calls to Allison and Sammy. It was late, and in the excitement he’d forgotten that he’d fired Allison out of anger mere hours ago. Thankfully he’d been able to bribe her into one more session of potion-making. Sammy hadn’t picked up at all, but Joey could make do without him.

---

Henry woke up, far too early, to Joey shaking him awake with a big smile on his face.

“Huh? What is it?” Henry asked.

“I have a whole day planned for us. Get up! We’re meeting Allison soon. There’s something- a lot of somethings, actually- that I need to show you. You have an hour to get ready. Alright?”

“Uh, okay!” Henry was kind of used to Joey being full of surprises. He was fairly sure this would be a good one- they usually were. Within an hour, he was in the passenger seat of Joey’s car.

Joey took a deep breath. This would be the difficult part- admitting all he’d been hiding from Henry for the past few years. “So, Henry... you know how I tell you that Sammy and I go bowling together? Well, that’s not entirely true. Sammy and I share a hobby, but it’s one I didn’t know how to explain to you without showing it to you, and... anyhow, we perform magic together.”

Henry didn’t miss a beat. “Oh. Okay, the thought of Sammy doing stage magic is pretty strange. But it seems right up your alley- why did you hide it from me?”

“It’s not stage magic. And you’ll see why later.”

“Oh. Um.” Henry wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “Great. I can’t wait!”

A while later, they pulled up to a lovely brick house on the outskirts of town. Over the short wooden fence, Henry could see a lovely hutch of three rabbits. The garden had a lot of browning plants in it that clearly weren’t getting enough attention. “Nice place- must have cost a lot to get one in this area. Who lives here?” Henry asked.

“Allison,” Joey answered, ringing the doorbell. “I borrow books and buy potions off of her. And we’re going to make potions with her today.”

Thomas opened the door, rolled his eyes and called for Allison before retreating into the garage. Then, Allison popped her head in.

“Hey, guys! Sorry to call you here so early. But you know- early is the only time you can get fresh morning dew, and for what we’re making, that’s pretty important.”

“Of course,” Joey said. “I brought everything we’ll need. Let’s get cooking!”

Henry had been put to the task of chopping up herbs as Joey mixed three strangely-labelled vials into a pot of boiling water and Allison was outside collecting morning dew and whiskers from her rabbits. He was pretty sure at this point that this was some bizarre prank. Hopefully there would be some kind of payoff to it and this wasn’t just a waste of a Saturday, but at least Allison seemed pleasant enough.

“So, where do you get crow’s blood from?” Henry asked, a bit of sarcasm in his voice.

“A crow!” It didn’t seem like a good idea to tell Henry about the black market- at least, not yet.

“Okay. So, what’s this potion supposed to do?”

“You’ll see,” Joey said cryptically, “this is actually a pretty powerful one.”

A few minutes later, everything had been added, and the potion had boiled for just long enough, according to Allison. She scooped some out into coffee mugs with a ladle and handed it out to Joey and Henry.

Henry stared down apprehensively at the unappetizing mix of herbs and hair floating in the clearish-brown substance. “What’s it going to taste like?”

Allison smiled. “About how it looks, I’m afraid. But go on, down the hatch. Oh, and the effect might startle you, but it isn’t supposed to last long, so just try to have fun with it.”

Henry did as he was told, and Allison took his cup. He started to feel... heavy, and off-balance, and dropped down onto his hands. All traces of red melted from his vision, leaving the world in tones of blue, yellow, and green. Joey ruffled his hair, and it seemed as though his skull was smaller and thinner than usual. He said something that Henry heard as gibberish. Then, Joey took a sip of his drink, handed the cup to Allison, and before Henry’s eyes, turned into a black lab.

Henry yelped and skittered backwards, and yelped again once he caught sight of his own paws. But Allison was laughing- she seemed unconcerned, and she had said that this was temporary. So, Henry rolled with it. Allison ushered the two of them into the backyard, where they played fetch. A while later, as Henry was trotting back to Allison with the tennis ball in his mouth, he felt his teeth dull and his center of balance change once again, and he spat the ball back onto the ground. Joey came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Well, Henry? Do you believe in magic now?” Joey asked.

“Yeah, it would be pretty hard to deny at this point.”

“Thank you. Because I have a whole lot else to show you.”

Joey returned to Allison. “And thank you! I’ll miss this, you know.”

“I’ll miss it, too,” Allison admitted. “I’ve never made a potion this advanced before- and I might not have much use for it, but imagine the kind of money I could make from this! Oh, and thanks for testing it for me.” Allison went quiet a moment. “Let’s keep in touch, alright?”

Joey weighed his bitterness with his desire to do just that. “Sure.”

With that, Joey and Henry got back into Joey’s car and they took off to their next destination.

“So... you’ve been doing stuff like that for years?”

“Well, yes and no. Allison is more of a specialist than I am. Unfortunately, the stuff I’m most into has a bad reputation, but I’m going to show you that it can be just as innocent as Allison’s potions.”

Henry nodded. After literally turning into a dog, he wasn’t even going to try and guess what Joey had in store. After a few minutes, Henry found himself gazing out at a wooded area on the edge of town. Henry figured that Joey must have been driving to another city, but instead he pulled over onto the side of the road and ushered Henry into the brush, taking with him a bag. Finally, Joey reached a clearing and dropped the bag.

“This is the place,” he announced.

It was an untamed natural area, with no trails made through it. No one was likely to come out here. It wasn’t pretty either- just a dusty field surrounded by trees.

“Sammy and I spent our first few sessions here. I spent some of my first sessions here alone, too- learning to summon things. And now, I’m going to summon something for you. A demonstration.” Joey’s back was turned to Henry- he was scared of how he’d react.

Henry was beginning to worry- Joey sounded like he was trying to seem positive, but it wasn’t working.

“What kinds of things? And how?”

Joey met Henry’s eyes. Henry didn’t seem too afraid yet. Still, there was no easy way to explain this. “We summon spirits and Gods from the spirit realm using pentagrams. The spirit realm isn’t hell, spirits aren’t demons, and Gods aren’t the Christian God. No religion is right about everything. Spirits aren’t angels and demons- they aren’t fully good or evil any more than people are. But it’s the more reckless ones- the fast-and-easy-with-the-rules ones- that are likely to come when you’re summoning one. Pentagrams are like a ‘help wanted’ add for spirits and Gods. They have a job description, which are in the pentagram itself. Pentagrams are like writing in their language. And, they have an offering of pay. The sacrifice for spirits is generally flesh or blood. Tasks that are more difficult for them, you want to leave out more of a payment, or the ritual has a higher chance of failing- no one took the bait, basically. Or, someone did, but thought your offer was so insulting that they found a way to bungle it up. Gods… they demand a greater sacrifice. But summoning Gods is considered insane even by pentagram users. A spirit won’t escape unless your pentagram has line breaks, and there’s a limit to how much damage they can do. As for Gods, well… even I don’t know how to contain them, or the consequences of letting them escape…”

Joey broke his somber monologue with a bright smile. “So, wanna ask a demon to grab us some lunch?”

“Uh...”

“Okay, I know I made that sound scary. But I’ve... actually been doing a summoning ritual every morning to keep myself healthy for years. It’s no big deal.”

Henry smiled awkwardly. “Can I maybe just watch?”

Joey smiled back. “Sure.”

And so, Henry watched. Joey drew up a pentagram in the dirt, lit a candle in its center, and then slit his wrist and let his blood drop onto the pentagram.

Henry rushed to the bag and pulled out a first aid kit to tend to Joey’s wound. Henry had seen the scars on Joey’s right hand before, and had seen them seem to grow and stay fresh, but he’d never gotten the chance to really look at them before.

“Y’know, this is actually a huge relief. I mean, it’s a lot of things, but... Joey, I thought you were self-harming, and I didn’t know how to bring it up. I’m glad you’re not.”

Joey smiled. “Thanks. So, are you okay with this?”

“I mean, I guess so. It seems shady, but you aren’t harming anyone.”

“Good. Because I’ve been working with the Gods of the spirit realm, and with their help, I brought one of our cartoons into existence. And I didn’t want to hide the magic from you anymore because I couldn’t imagine leaving you out of something that big! The toon I made is a Boris. He’s scared, and hiding somewhere in the studio. After lunch, will you help me coax him out of hiding?”

Henry’s face was lit up with awe and disbelief. “Oh my God. Of course! I can’t believe this! Joey, you should have told me sooner!”

Joey could practically feel the weight of secrecy leaving his shoulders. He still had to keep the murders away from Henry, of course, but he didn’t mind that. The murders weren’t a part of him. Magic was. “Thank you. I should have known I could trust you.”

At that moment, the pentagram glowed, and a picnic lunch sprang up from the ground.

“Let’s go see what those demons sent us for lunch.”

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #joey drew #Henry Stein #allison pendle #satanism #my fanfiction #requests #lonelyghostwriter #creatorship

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cibeewastaken · 5 years ago

Note

Hey can you write some fluff, it can be anything as long it features harry kissing dracos hands 😄💙💙💙💙

hello! this turned out more hurt/comfort, i hope you don’t mind. Huge thanks to @pineau-noir for the beta!

1581 words, eighth year to post Hogwarts, tentative friendship, getting together, warning for brief self-harm

Read on Ao3

-----

The robes felt too small for him, even though Harry had just gotten fitted for them at Madam Malkin’s a few months ago. Grown into such a handsome man, the tailor had said to him. Harry only felt old.

The bell rang behind them, and Draco Malfoy had walked in, stopped at the sight of Harry, hesitantly looked at him, as though he didn’t know if he should turn back or not. Harry had stared back, wondering if it was a dream.

Madam Malkin had given Draco an encouraging smile and ushered him onto the other platform to wait. Harry had turned back to face the mirror, swallowing; it almost came as a shock when he didn’t see two 11-year-old boys reflecting back.

"Hello,” Harry had said, pins in his clothes, arms stretched out.

Draco had cast him a quick glance, and let out a thin, shaky breath; no reply. He was still staring straight ahead when Harry left the shop.

They had to share a common room, and there really wasn’t a way for Draco to avoid Harry, not even hiding in his room. The expression on Draco’s face was almost devastating when he saw Harry, who had already claimed one of the two beds. Harry didn’t try to talk to him again even if he desperately wanted to know why Draco was wearing a T-shirt with holes in the armpit instead of silk pajamas like Harry always thought he did. And Harry didn’t talk to Draco even when he came back to his room to find Draco howling on his bed, squished between an also crying Parkinson and a wide-eyed Zabini. Draco’s left sleeve was soaked in blood.

Harry only crouched in front of Draco and cleaned his wound up with what he remembered from the forest. Wrapped it up as Hermione would. Held onto Draco’s hands like a friend would.

Draco was the first to talk, and this time it was Harry who was crying. Harry wasn’t crying because he had a nightmare, or because he thought about Teddy, or because someone had thanked him for the war. Harry was crying because he couldn’t understand NEWT level Potions and the new professor was too starstruck to listen to Harry when he said he didn’t understand. Harry was crying because he didn’t want to ask Hermione when she was with Ron (which was always). Harry was crying because Potions was very confusing and he didn’t see himself ever figuring out since it didn’t involve killing Voldemort or sacrificing himself.

Draco took Harry’s textbook from and made notes beside each paragraph, summarizing the welter of information into concise sentences, and drew arrows in green ink to link them all together. By this point Harry had wiped his face clean of tears and snot (on his sleeve) and was watching Draco through swollen eyes. When Draco finished, he turned the book back to Harry and explained the day’s lesson to Harry, reading everything from upside down and setting everything right.

And Harry passed his Potion NEWTs with higher scores than anyone but Draco could anticipate. And Harry celebrated it by looting the kitchen of food and drinks and surprised Draco with a feast by the lake. Though it didn’t take long for words to get out that there was food, and soon they were joined by everyone and more. Someone brought a Polaroid and Harry jumped at the chance. He grabbed Draco’s hand when posing for the photo, grinning at him with heat that felt wonderful in his cheeks.

“Finally,” Harry said.

“What?” Draco said.

“We’re finally friends.”

Draco stared, unblinking. His hands tightened in Harry’s grip. And the flash went off.

They went into different fields after school. Harry went into Auror training as he’d planned. Draco didn’t know what he wanted now he was on his own. Hermione suggested tutoring in the meantime. I have no qualification, Draco said. Managing to help Harry Potter pass NEWTs Potions should be enough for anyone, Hermione replied.

It wasn’t, but Draco started out small. Teaching a few Muggleborn children that just got their Hogwarts letters some basic courses. Charms and Potions, navigating the wizarding world (which their muggle parents listened in on). Magical Theory. History—recent history.

He lost a few students after that, but Draco was adamant that it was taught.

Harry often went over to Draco’s flat late at night, because he knew Draco would be up scribbling away. Harry would sit by Draco and read his own textbooks, and when Draco inevitably put down the quill to shake his wrist out (the bones making cracking noises), Harry would take it in his hands and knead it. Would feel the bone under it shift. Would circle that wrist between his thumb and index finger, squeezing it, then down to Draco’s forearm, digging his knuckles into the sore muscles, then up once more, massage each finger meticulously.

Draco would usually fall asleep on Harry’s shoulder around the ring finger, and Harry would press a kiss to his hand.

It was a Thursday morning when the Auror Department got called to handle a Gringotts robbery. Harry seized up at the mention, mind blanking with fear because Draco always went to Gringotts on Thursday morning to deposit his weekly earnings. No one said anything when Harry tagged along, and no one stopped him when he burst in first (they probably all thought it was what he did), frantically looking through all the frightened faces. Harry didn’t see Draco.

“There were no casualties, thank Merlin,” Ester, one of the seniors Auror on site said. “One missing.”

Harry whirled around. Draco wasn’t in the crowd. “What do you mean, one missing?”

Ester looked at her notes, “One of them went after the robbers.”

According to the witnesses, the robber didn’t go for the vaults, instead they targeted the deposit line and Accio’d people’s valuables off of them. One witness said everything happened very fast, the robbers were in and out in less than a minute, and one of the customers went after them.

“Who?” Harry’s voice broke.

“Someone recognized it as the Malfoy kid.”

It was a sloppy crime. It didn’t take long for the Aurors to track them down at Knockturn. Draco was there, a purpling bruise on his face, locked in a struggle with one man. The Aurors Incarceroused the robbers and Draco fell on his bottom, hands tucked to his chest.

Harry pushed past the crowd. When Draco saw him, his face broke into a relieved smile. A smile that shuttered when Harry starting yelling.

“What the hell were you doing!” Harry snapped at him. Draco reeled back on the ground, mouth agape. “Why would you chase them?! They were gone!”

“They took my stuff!” Draco said.

“Your stuff!” Harry screamed. “What could possibly be worth more than your safety! ” Windows around them rattled. Harry’s head was fuzzy with anger he wasn’t used to anymore. Everyone stopped talking at Harry’s outburst. Draco’s face turned bright red, and he made a startled noise when Harry snatched away whatever Draco was holding. Harry looked down and everything seemed to fall away.

It was the photo of them, the words Harry wrote on it were faded (Finally friends!), but it was clear that someone had retraced it carefully, many times since.

A hand snatched the picture back. Mouth hanging open, Harry looked up at Draco.

“You went after them for that?” he asked, voice cracking at the end.

Draco stared at him, face still red with humiliation, eyes wet. “Yes,” he said. “Fine, yes!” He pushed Harry. Harry stumbled, knees weak. “I don’t need you to tell me how pathetic I am, Potter, so just fuck off and go yell at someone else.” Then he turned around, beelining toward the entrance.

“He can’t leave yet—” an Auror said, but Harry didn’t care about procedures. He ran up and caught Draco’s arm. Draco turned and shoved him, with little effect this time. Harry stood his ground.

“God, Potter,” Draco said, every syllable shook violently. Tears streamed down Draco’s face. His whole face scrunched up miserably. “What do you want now? I don’t need you to tell me how worthless this is to you.”

“I didn’t—” Harry tried. “That’s not what I meant. You could’ve been killed.”

Draco’s fingers clawed at Harry’s grip, trying to pry it off. “Shut up, shut up!”

Harry grabbed Draco’s scrambling hand and tugged, wrapped an arm around Draco’s waist and pressed his lips to Draco’s hand. Harry’s breath shuddered, “I could’ve lost you.”

Draco was trembling. The bruise on his face broke Harry’s heart.

Harry pressed a kiss to Draco’s palm. “I could’ve lost you,” Harry said, voice tight with tears held back. Harry tugged Draco in further, wrapping him in a suffocating hug, burying his face in the warm crook of Draco’s neck, breathing in the comforting citrus soap for a second before turning his face into Draco and kissed him.

“I,” Draco started when Harry pulled back. “I’m sorry.” He sounded confused.

“Don’t scare me like that again.”

“Okay.”

“We can always take more photos,” Harry said into Draco’s shoulder. “Let’s go buy a camera right now. And ten thousand rolls of film.”

“Do you expect me to be robbed ten thousand times?”

Harry snorted an ugly laugh and peeked up at Draco. Draco cocked his head, brought a hand up to cup Harry’s face. Harry turned into Draco’s palm.

Draco’s other hand found Harry’s. “Ten thousand rolls it is.”

#drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #hp #drarry squad #darry #my fic #Anonymous #tw self harm

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kaen-ace-of-diamonds · 4 years ago

Text

Full Moon Dance

Word Count: 3300+ (chapter 2, final) (chapter 1) [AO3 link]

Genre: Humor/Romance

Characters: Raven Branwen, Summer Rose, Qrow Branwen, Taiyang Xiao Long, Ozpin, Kite Branwen (OC, mentioned)

Pairing: Raven Branwen/Summer Rose

Summary: Misunderstanding what "taking a partner" is supposed to entail, Raven asks Summer to the Vytal Festival Dance.She did not expect that to become a gateway to facing her changing feelings for her teammates and her place at Beacon.

~0~

“I don’t want to hide. I want to slow dance with you again. I want to dance with you forever.”

Sarah Black

~0~

At this point, Raven couldn’t remember what it was like to feel relaxed at all. She should have known that the last two weeks had been too good to be true.

With the limited funds that they had, Summer had led her on a search through Vale’s wide selection of clothing stores to find the perfect party outfits. While she had been exhausted by the end of it, she had to admit that she was still surprised both by how comfortable her dress was and how Summer had managed to pick something for her that matched her style so perfectly.

Still, it was Summer’s choice that she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off of: a soft and shimmery silver dress, that matched her eyes and fell just below her knees. Even more than that, she enjoyed the sight of her partner admiring it on herself in the mirror. She nodded along as if she’d never heard it before every time Summer remarked, “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever worn anything this pretty in my life.”

None of them had volunteered to manage any part of the dance, which was a plus in Raven’s book, so all the four of them had to do was look forward to it. She had to admit, Tai didn’t look half bad in his deep gold suit, though it had originally belonged to his father and was a little too big for him. Watching Qrow nearly choke himself on his new tie — part of an outfit similar to her own, though the black of his suit was softer and its red accents brighter — more than once while getting accustomed to it was pretty funny.

When they arrived, Tai’s arm thrown over Qrow’s shoulders and Summer gripping Raven’s hand, the hall was already crowded and noisy, the party in full swing. Whoever had decorated had gone a little overboard on what she could only assume was a starry sky theme: hundreds of holographic paper stars hung on strings all around the room, reflecting the multicolored lights roving everywhere. It did cast a nice rainbow onto Summer’s dress when it wasn’t momentarily blinding her.

As for the music, she was pretty sure she’d already heard most of these songs in the department store changing rooms, but everybody seemed to be liking them well enough. The dance floor was getting fairly packed, but Raven could still see some spots that would accommodate her and Summer. As such, she had expected that to be their first stop.

Instead, while Tai was coaxing Qrow and his sudden case of cold feet out of the corner, she allowed Summer to lead her as she flitted around the room, chatting with and introducing her partner to all the students she’d met from the other Academies. She was taking the whole fostering friendships theme of the Vytal Festival very seriously, and while Raven was only marginally friendly with any of them, she didn’t mind both scoping out their tournament competition and watching Summer be so damn personable.

After a short while, she’d been left to take a break at a table as Summer went to grab them both snacks and fruit punch, and hadn’t minded that either. There were still plenty of people on the dance floor, momentarily sacrificing dignity in the name of fun, that she was content to watch in the meantime. Even her brother was allowing his partner to tug him closer to the spotlight, on the sidelines watching Tai demonstrate the moves of an energetic dance she didn’t recognize.

Maybe this wasn’t the fanciest get-together in the world, but it was nice, legitimately nice. Much better than any night spent by a bonfire in the middle of Anima, drinking moonshine in the dirt with the children of people Kite wanted to make nice with, that was for sure.

And she was going to strangle whatever little spanner in the works had cut it short by spiking the punch and not informing Summer.

The timing had been all wrong, that’s what it was. If she or Qrow had tasted it first, they not only would have noticed the sharp bitter streak, but would have been able to stay on their feet after drinking it. The stuff Kite brewed in the tub behind her tent was stronger than whatever had been dumped in the punch bowl...but only slightly. Tai would have been rocked pretty hard, but she felt sure he wouldn’t have been put out of commission by it, especially if he had only taken one gulp.

But poor Summer was not only a hundred pounds soaking wet, but was so fond of sweet things that she’d chugged an entire solo cup of punch before realizing something wasn’t quite right about its contents.

When Summer had come loping up to her empty-handed and grabbed her arm, Raven had assumed for a second that she had forgone refreshments and was suddenly very excited to finally take her to dance. Instead...

“Heyyyy, Raven? Where’re we going?” Summer nearly tripped over her own feet, thumping against Raven’s shoulder. “And where’re my shoes?”

Raven, holding Summer’s wrist in one hand and her heels in the other, grit her teeth as she peered around the corner of the second-year dorm building. “Don’t worry about it, and back to our room.”

“But wha...what about the boys?”

“Don’t worry. They’ll be fine until we get back.”

Once they had all realized the situation, there had been a brief, fiercely whispered discussion about who should be the one to stealth-mission Summer safely back to their dorm room before their chaperoning professors noticed. Qrow and his Semblance had been put out of the running immediately; they didn’t need any more bad luck befalling them on the way. Tai had first offered to go with them, to negate Qrow’s Semblance, and then alone, as he was the one that most of the faculty liked best.

However, as it was Raven’s arm that Summer was clinging to so steadfastly, and refusing to be detached from, it was quickly decided that it had to be her. So while Tai and Qrow distracted the chaperoning professors, off she had gone, her slurring and swaying partner in tow.

“Oh. Will we be back soon? An’ hey, are you spinning? I’m spinning. Are we gonna dance soon? You can spin me around too if you want, I’d loooove that!”

She should have known Summer would be a chatty drunk, as well as the lightest lightweight she had ever met.

“Shh, relax,” Raven muttered as she darted them across the small lawn and up to the front door. Locked. Of course. And their keys were back at the dance hall.

She pulled a bobby pin from her hair (thankfully, Summer didn’t notice the partial spoiling of all her taming and styling efforts) and went quickly to work on the lock; Kite preferred brute forcing her way into places, but she had bothered to teach her twins at least some finesse.

“Just...be quiet for a minute, okay?”

“Surrrrrre...”

In the dark, it was harder to pick the lock, but not much harder. Ignoring Summer swinging her arm back and forth, Raven eased the door open a crack and peeked in. The ground floor seemed as devoid of professors, security, or other students as the grounds themselves.

“Perfect.” Raven pulled her inside and started for the stairs with perhaps more vigor than her partner was ready for. “Let’s go!”

“Ohh-ohhh!”

“Shh!”

The stairs themselves were...trickier. Why, oh, why did they have to live on the third floor?

“Come on, Summer!” She wasn’t sure how to hiss at someone encouragingly, but she gave it her best try. “You can do it. You do it every day!”

“Well, it’s not every day!” Summer whined. She might as well have still been wearing her heels, the way she was stumbling around on the steps. “They’re way too long!”

“They’re not—”

She broke off in a frustrated huff, and spent the next several minutes attempting to coax Summer up the stairs, and thinking that it would probably be easier to teach a puppy how stairs worked. Around the middle, she glanced up at the second flight of stairs behind them, and the third flight behind that, and finally decided—

“Fuck it!”

Summer’s eyes went huge as Raven grabbed her and hauled her upward, maneuvering her onto her back. “Raven, my heeeeead! I don’t wanna spin anymore!”

“Your head is fine, relax. Keep your arms around my neck, and you can rest it on my shoulder.” Raven refrained from wincing when Summer obeyed a little too quickly, and jammed her bony chin directly where Raven’s neck met her shoulder. “Just don’t throw up on me.”

Summer scoffed, and Raven couldn’t be sure whether she was nuzzling her neck on purpose. “‘Course I won’t. I’m not drunk.”

“Of course not, my mistake,” said Raven, rolling her eyes, as she boosted Summer up into full piggyback position. “Now hold on.”

At least there was one silver lining to Summer being so small: Raven’s footsteps didn’t fall any heavier on the hard tile steps, even while carrying her. There was no one in the stairwell, and with most everyone at the dance, she was really hoping there wouldn’t be anyone there when they reached their floor.

(Of course, she doubted whether there was any Beacon student who would snitch on her, not if they knew what was good for them, but better safe than sorry.)

As such, the only other sound in the place was Summer’s perpetual chattering, now directly in her ear.

“Gods, you’re so warm,” she was saying now, rubbing her face against her hair. Yeah, definitely on purpose. “And your hair is so soft. ‘S like lying on a blanket instead of a hay bale. I did ssssuch a good job...”

“Yes, you did,” replied Raven flatly. Having reached their stop on the stairwell, she dropped Summer’s shoes and shifted her partner slightly so she could have a free hand to open the door. “Very good.”

Luckily, Summer didn’t seem to mind, or even notice, being jostled. “Yeah. You’re the best. You’re suuuuuch a good partner. I’m so glad I didn’t actually break your spine when I landed on you. You remember that?”

Raven snorted. She doubted she could ever forget their first encounter in the Emerald Forest. “Sure I do. My back still hurts when it rains.”

Summer scrunched up her face and made a scandalized noise, rubbing her face against Raven’s like a cat. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to. I’d never hurt you on purpose.”

“Yeah, I know,” muttered Raven, edging them through the door and creeping onto the floor. Their dorm wasn’t in this hall, but it wasn’t too far off either. “Come on, home stretch.”

“I’ll never let anything hurt you, either,” Summer went on, and Raven could feel her smiling against her neck. “Anything tries to, I’ll make it explode.”

“Yep. Definitely.”

“It’s my secret, you know? I’ll tell you all about it one day. But I don’t want it to change anything.”

“It won’t, I’m sure,” Raven said, nodding along to her rambling, while her eyes flicked around for any signs that they weren’t alone.

“Ahhh...actually, might change a lot. Y-You know something? I wish I didn’t even have them.”

Raven didn’t stop walking, but there was a heavy enough undertone of distress in Summer’s voice that she turned to look at her. “Have what?”

Summer stared back at her, silver eyes huge and blinking back tears. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t know if I should tell you.”

Raven blinked back. Well. Hadn’t she just been thinking about this? Here was the perfect chance to set that precedent, of not digging too deeply into secrets that any teammates might be hiding.

“...That’s okay, Summer. I don’t mind that you didn’t say anything, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“But I—”

“Pardon me?”

Raven jumped badly, and spun around so fast it was a wonder that Summer wasn’t flung clean off her back. (A small part of her almost wanted to do it anyway and get rid of the evidence.)

If it were anyone else, she would have been set to snarl and threaten. But she would recognize that soft, measured tone anywhere, so what blurted out of her mouth was a cracked, “Hello?!”

Ozpin tilted his head slightly, regarding the two of them with curiosity and more than a little concern. “Miss Branwen, Miss Rose. Are you two all right?”

Less than ten years her senior, the headmaster’s youth and mild demeanor put many people at ease. It just made Raven want to put up her guard around him even more, especially now that it was time to lie her ass off to him.

“Yes, Summer just twisted her ankle while we were dancing, so I figured I’d take her back to our room to rest.”

The confusion on Summer’s face was almost comical. “We were dancing?”

Raven fought a fleeting but powerful urge to headbutt her. “Tai and Qrow let the other professors know. We’ll be fine, thanks.”

��Right now the other professors are dealing with several other...incapacitated students at the moment,” Ozpin informed her, leaning on his cane, and Raven couldn’t decide whether his expression was genuinely or deceptively friendly. “Would you know anything about that?”

“No,” said Raven, perhaps a little too quickly, trying her best to look puzzled and innocent. As if she wasn’t a dogged but terrible liar. As if Summer’s Aura wouldn’t have immediately healed a sprain. As if the acrid scents of fruit punch and cheap spirits weren’t radiating off of her.

As if Summer herself wasn’t being entirely unhelpful. “Ohhh! Hi, Professor!”

Ozpin smiled. “Hello, Miss Rose. How are you feeling?”

“Much better!” Summer knocked her head affectionately against Raven’s, her arms twisting tighter around her neck. “Raven’s the best partner ever!”

“I see that. Well, if you’re uncomfortable walking, then it’s no wonder you left these behind.” He handed Raven the pair of Summer’s heels that she had forgotten in the stairwell. “Get some rest, I expect to see you both in full fighting form on Monday.”

“Y-Yes, of course,” was all Raven could say through her shock. They’d just been caught red-handed breaking at least five school rules at once, and he was just...letting them? “Uh...thanks?”

Summer waved vigorously at his retreating back, nearly falling off of Raven. “Bye, Professor!”

“Ugh, Summer, stay still!”

The last leg of their trip was short and thankfully uneventful. Raven didn’t bother turning on the light; she just heaved a sigh of relief when the door closed and she and Summer finally collapsed onto her bed. She kicked off her own shoes and made sure that Summer was lying properly on her side: at least there was one advantage to helping Kite deal with completely soused tribe members after successful raids.

“Hey. How do you feel?”

Summer mumbled contentedly, nuzzling the pillow. “A little spinny.”

“You think you might get sick?”

“Nope. You make me feel better.” Summer’s eyes were gleaming, but their lids were drooping. “I think I’m gonna sleep. I’m sorry, but...I don’t think I can dance with you after all.”

“That’s okay. I don’t mind just lying around here with you.”

“Suuure...y-you really are the best...part...”

Before she could manage the second syllable, she had fallen sound asleep. Raven didn’t think being touched would wake her up, but still she undid her braids as gently as possible. She had no interest in returning to the dance without her partner, and save for sending a quick text to Qrow confirming that they were back in their room, she didn’t think any more about it.

The best thing to do would be to take Summer’s example and call it a night. But even after taking her hair down and changing into an old shirt and shorts, and lying down next to Summer — had to keep an eye on her until she’d slept it off, after all — she felt wide awake, and couldn’t seem to look away from her face.

(It wasn’t even that late, but it looked like it was still going to be one of Those Nights where her thoughts got the better of her.)

Summer looked peaceful. She looked...beautiful, there was no other word for it. And she trusted Raven, in a way that Raven hadn’t thought possible after less than two years of knowing somebody. It wasn’t a new realization, but it was one that made her feel strange and unsteady inside if she gave it enough time to set in.

She didn’t know for sure what she was supposed to call such a feeling, though the word vulnerable floated menacingly through her head. And speaking of unwelcome guests there...

She’s going to be easy prey when you’re finally done with this place, purred Kite’s smug voice in her thoughts. When she looks at you, sometimes you think she can see right through you, and maybe she can, but she won’t raise her blade to you until it’s too late for her.

Raven reached out and gently brushed a loose lock of Summer’s hair out of her face. She was a loyal warrior; she listened to her leader without contradiction...even if she felt no compulsion at all to obey.

Yeah, you see? She’s already baring her throat to you. She’s throwing her life away just like every other dumb kid in that place. Might as well be to you.

Even so, for once in her life, she wished that she would just be quiet. That everything would just stop, if only for a little while, so she could feel right staying where she was. It was comfortable here, it was soft and warm here. Summer was here. It felt as natural as her own heartbeat for Summer to be here.

She realized that she didn’t know what she would do if her partner were gone, that she emphatically did not want to leave her side. The realization did not come sweetly, or stunningly; it was a quick, icy shock to her system, like the sudden awareness that you were not alone in the forest, and something was about to pounce on your back.

Whatever that something might be, now wasn’t the time to think too deeply about it, Raven decided. Trying to focus on the better, simpler things, it would be easier to doze off. She only registered that she had done exactly that when the door opened again, her eyes flew open, and the room was even darker around them.

“Holy shit,” said Qrow’s silhouette in the doorway. “I didn’t think it’d be that much like it is at home!”

“Shut up,” Raven hissed, indicating Summer. “She’s sleeping!”

“Sorry, sorry...” both boys mumbled as they slipped inside, carrying trace scents of alcohol and sweat with them. She could hear more tired footsteps in the hall outside as Qrow stage-whispered, “But yeah, you guys got out at just the right time. I think like ten people got suspended.”

Tai made a piteous noise as he poked at an unfortunately large stain on the suit jacket slung over his arm. Raven couldn’t see it terribly well from here, but she figured ‘somebody else’s drying vomit’ wasn’t too bad a guess. “My dad’s suit...”

“Don’t worry about it,” Raven sighed. “We’ll teach you how to wash it out in the morning. Did you guys have fun anyway?”

Tai and Qrow paused in removing their respective hair tie and regular tie to glance at each other, and after a second, smiled. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Good. So go to sleep and tell us about it in the morning.”

Raven started to sink back onto the bed, and realized that Summer had snuggled closer to her in their sleep. Carefully and with some awkwardness, she laid back down beside her, so close now that she could feel her body heat.

Qrow smirked. “How have you two been doing?”

“Fine.” She glared at him over Summer’s head. “Just fine. Go to bed.”

“Sure, sure...”

Before long, Qrow was face down on his pillow and Tai was snoring peacefully. Raven was the last to fall back asleep, with Summer’s soft breathing in her ears, and their hands brushing together on top of the covers.

~0~

The next morning she was the last to wake up as well, and did so to the powerful aroma of bacon and eggs. Summer presented the dish to her with a noticeable blush and a sheepish smile on her face.

“You know, you didn’t have to do this,” said Raven through a crunchy strip of bacon, sitting cross-legged on her bed. “I know you must be hungover as hell.”

Summer rubbed the back of her head. “I drank a lot of water, so I’m feeling a bit better. And everything that happened last night is really fuzzy, but I knew I had to thank you for it.”

“Mm-hm. And have you learned your lesson about making sure you know what you’re actually drinking?”

“Absolutely.” She held her hand up in a ‘scout’s honor’ pose. “I swear, I will never be betrayed by fruit punch again.”

Raven nodded solemnly. “Excellent.”

Classes didn’t start back up again until Monday, so today was their day of rest. The majority of it was spent lazing around their room, filling each other in on what they’d done last night. (Qrow and Tai high-fived so exuberantly at Raven’s recount that anyone would think they had been the ones that Ozpin had let get away clean.)

Raven had no reason to expect that anything more would happen this weekend. But then, just as it was starting to get dark, Summer took her hand and led her up to the roof of the building.

“Uh, Summer? Not that I doubt your good intentions, but what are we doing here?”

Summer turned around with a grin, keeping a gentle but firm grip on her hand. The rising moon behind her head was golden and full. “I did promise you a dance, didn’t I? I thought I’d fulfill that promise the best way I know how.”

“...Under the moonlight, is that right?” Raven squeezed her hand, unable to keep a small smile of her own off her face. “And I suppose you’ll be taking the lead?”

“I am your leader, after all. Now let me see...Dad always used to start like...”

Summer adjusted her feet, and Raven did her best to match her. Her right hand released Raven’s and rested on her left shoulder, and her left hand quickly replaced it.

“Put your left hand on my shoulder. Just like that. We’ve got to keep our elbows up like...yeah, perfect. If I’m remembering it right, there’s only six steps to this, so it should be easy. It’s...”

She stepped forward, and Raven stepped back. She stepped to the side, and Raven followed. Their movements were awkward, unsteady, certainly unpracticed. But they were managing perfectly well, as used to one another as they were, and that was a win in Raven’s book.

Summer’s grin broadened when they completed a full rotation without stepping on each other’s feet. “See, we did it!”

“All right, so we’re ready for the advanced steps now, right?”

Summer giggled, and started to guide her into another turn, her cloak swishing minutely with the movement. “Let’s just stick with this for now.”

Raven was perfectly content with this. Maybe it had been for the best that their time at the dance had been interrupted. The distant chirping of night birds, the soft click of their boots on the rooftop, the sound of Summer’s voice instructing and encouraging her...she couldn’t think of any music or any place that she would like better.

Without thinking, she tightened her grip, and Summer, as if reading her mind, pulled her in closer. Her partner filled the entirety of her vision, and in her face, her hair, the moonlight glowed.

#rosebird #raven branwen #summer rose #qrow branwen #taiyang xiao long #ozpin #rwby #team strq #kaen's fics

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ninaahelvar · 5 years ago

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Chivalry Fell On Its Sword (14/23)

Summary: All Arya wanted so to feel normal and go outside of the damn castle. Now, through a series of unfortunate, she’s stuck with a bodyguard that she accidentally flirted with: Gendry Waters.

AO3

A/N: HAPPY 2020! I’m so excited for angst to be over....but today is not that chapter. i can’t handle it anymore, why are you guys still reading this, it’s torture. ok. anyway. have fun! (little edited, sorry, will edit if mistakes are missed)ALMOST FORGOT! CFOIS HAS A PLAYLIST ON SPOTIFY! Feel free to leave a comment with a song you feel fits, and songs should be added each week to go with the fic. there's hints to future chapters in some of those songs as well!

In the days after, Gendry felt less motivated to win back something he shouldn’t have considered his in the first place. One, she was a princess, who the hell was he to think he had a chance with her, and two, she was a person - what right did he have to claim her as his own, as part of himself? He needed to think - to stop losing sense because he was an idiot that lost everything in one night.

Yet, every time he saw Arya, he had hope. He believed there was a chance for his heart to mend what had been broken so easily in the past. He had snapped them in half, but the pieces were still scattered around them.

With a torn heart, he got to work every day, wondering if he’d leave in hope or heartache. Most days, it was the combination of the two, fighting against one another to win over his heart. And more importantly, his liver, drinking alcohol like it were air, because what else did he have to look forward to at the end of the day. He never went to work drunk, it would be too risky, and although it hurt to be around her without the same emotions as they once had, it was better to be sober than drunk off his ass.

In the meantime, Gendry was being the best bodyguard he could - he made sure that Arya was secure in all locations, and made sure she wasn’t putting herself at risk. She’d get annoyed once in a while, but let it slide fairly quickly.

It was strange though, just like her promise, Sansa and Gendry spoke when they could. It was being discussed that Gendry and Sandor would swap roles for a short while, with trial days to occur in order to see if it was a better image in the public eye. Both Arya and Sansa stayed indoors for these days. Gendry wasn’t entirely sure if it were planned, but he was thankful, because all the time he got to spend with Sansa, the more they got on and talked.

She was a very kind, warm and welcoming sort of person, willing to hear multiple sides instead of just the one. And yes, she was still as bitter as her sister on the whole break up thing, but he didn’t blame her. It was cruel what he did and how he did it.

Gendry also found out two very simple things - the first was that Gendry had indeed won the bet with Arya, because Sansa’s boyfriend wasn’t who she thought, and the second was that Sansa wanted Arya and Gendry back together.

Her father, it turned out, was a chatter box and talked to Sansa about them, about what they talked about that night. Sansa was criminally underestimated by her family, in Gendry’s opinion, because the amount of information that flowed through her was something to be rivaled by foreign countries with intelligence agencies. It wouldn’t surprise him if Sansa knew more about the secret workings of the Northern forces than she let on. As she sipped her tea, the twinkle in her eye told Gendry all he needed to know; Sansa was a woman to fear.

“So, I know a fair amount about my sister, so I can tell you, all attempts to get her back are going to be difficult to accomplish.” Sansa picked at a plate of food that had been essentially demolished from their time sitting in her room. Gendry had seen Arya eat before - which was sickening to say the least, but when Sansa did it, it was down right frightening how fucking skinny she was. It was as though she inhaled an entire meal, probably passing through her just the same. Gendry felt like he needed to go to the gym just watching the meal disappear into her stomach.

“I really don’t understand why you’re helping me,” he said, picking up his coffee and taking a sip. Sansa shrugged loosely before reclining back into her chair and playing with the ends of her hair.

“Because when she talked about you, she was in love. The kind of love I see in my older brothers. I want the same thing for her, and we’ve all had it tough, so it’s only fair that you work it out,” she said, a soft sigh in her words as though it warmed her to speak of it. Then, she pouted. “Plus, I need Sandor back on my detail,” she said, and Gendry smirked.

“Ominous, but I rarely question anything to do with him anymore because he scares the shit out of me,” Gendry admitted, to which Sansa beamed back a smile.

“He also scares the shit out of everyone else. So, it works in my favour that he is the softest around me,” she confined with a grin that told him enough - a soft gian for only her was a special thing to keep around a princess that wanted secrets to be hidden.

“Well aren’t you lucky,” Gendry chuckled.

“Luckier than you,” Sansa scoffed, leaning forward, “you really fucked up. I don’t know how you’re going to get through this.”

Gendry put his coffee down before throwing himself back into his chair, sliding down as he felt a surge of self pity. “I know. But I can’t very well just ask her to get back together with me. Pathetic, especially considering that it won’t build trust back,” he explained, running his hands over his face. “I don’t know if I should even try.” He thought he whispered it, kept it so secret that no one would hear. But of course, Sansa, queen of secrets, threw a pillow at his words.

“You can’t just give up,” she snapped, the pillow hitting him again.

“Sansa, it’s better than dragging this out and hurting us more in the long run.”

“You’re going to let her go because you’re scared she’ll reject you!” Sansa had some truth in her words.

A lot of things about his relationship with Arya scared him. How did she love him in spite of everything she knew? How could someone royal love him? What if someone were to discover who he was, use it to bring him to a position he never asked for. Gendry wasn’t special. Maybe being a bastard made him feel like he wasn’t, but it still made him wonder at every turn if he were good enough to keep around.

For what he knew of himself, he knew why he was feeling all of this all so suddenly; he broke them up - a fond respect that had been built was shattered, and however perfect it was in their little bubble, it wasn’t enough to keep the world from coming in. Losing security in such a split second, a security that was built entirely by heart, was a hard thing to recover.

“I’m not going to break her heart all over again because I want her back! I could never do that to her again.”

“Gendry, you have to try before you break it all forever,” Sansa tried, but Gendry’s heart had already wavered, how was he meant to stop it from beating the way it did. More than anything, he wanted to stay with Arya - but what was truly fair? To badger her into loving him again, or to drag out a break up that should have ended it weeks before hand.

“What else can I do? Tell me! I’d die for that girl a thousand times over to see if it’d work, but that isn’t how this is going to happen,” he groaned.

“I don’t know. You really screwed up,” Sansa said, chewing on her lip.

“Yeah. I know that too,” Gendry grumbled, leaning forward, head in hands. For a moment, he thought he was alone, until a hand snaked up his shoulder, patting him lightly.

“She will always love you, even if you think you will always be unlovable. I believe you’ll find your way back to safety soon.”

“Safety?” he questioned.

“Where do you feel safest?”

Gendry pictured it, the hand on his cheek as Arya smiled up at him. Home. Her arms.

“There.” She confirmed with a smile and a nod, and Gendry’s heart broke again.

He wouldn’t love anyone the way he loved Arya.

As another week went by, Gendry’s place in the palace still hanging in the air, Arya was called in by her mother. She had staggered out of her room, hair still sticking up in odd places as she yawned. Gendry gave her the coffee he got her every morning, walking beside her slowly, guiding her around her home. The walk Arya took was uncomfortable, as though she had only just learnt how to walk that morning.

“Are you hung over right now?” he asked, staring straight ahead. When Arya groaned, she leaned on him, head kept propped up on his shoulder, legs lazily dragging her along with him.

“Sansa wanted to watch the new season RuPaul, and...well,” she sighed, looking up at him.

“I’m almost glad I didn’t get saddled with the night shift,” Gendry chuckled. To that, Arya jabbed him in the ribs.

“Stop lying, you would have loved every second,” she scoffed.

“You’re going to be two episodes ahead of me, don’t need spoilers.” To that, Arya laughed. She hadn’t laughed a lot since they’d broken up. He liked making her laugh, in his own way. It made him feel wanted by her. That there was still a chance.

He wished, though, that his stomach wouldn’t turn when he felt that. Guilt, it seemed, still plagued him like a disease, breaking down the confident parts of him, the ones that didn’t care about rank or the future, just happiness in one moment to the next.

Getting rid of the last remaining parts of her coffee, Arya gave Gendry back the mug and they walked into the Queen’s office. It was a very lavish office, with books lining the walls, a parallel war between the Queen’s interests on one side, and the other was duty. They were overflowing, each side balanced with the other. It fit the Queen, Gendry assumed. Unlike most of the Stark family, the Queen was quite secretive, she kept herself the picture perfect royal; stern, regal, and superior to all except the gods - old and new.

“Arya,” the Queen started, the door opening behind them as the King walked in. Both parents kissed at Arya’s crown before they eventually took their seats. Gendry stayed near the door, watching Arya shift awkwardly in front of her parents, both sitting opposite her behind the desk. They kept their power, outnumbering her. The Queen suddenly looked up to him, and Gendry stiffened. “I’m sorry Gendry that you have to be here for this, but I do need to speak with Arya on an important matter,” she explained. Gendry’s frowned, watching the Queen. The words made him curious.

“It is alright, Your Majesty, I’m used to following her around,” he explained.

The Queen cleared her throat, looking away from him, as though she of all people were uncomfortable. “Ah, see, it’s more about the topic of conversation.”

“What’s this about?” Arya asked.

“We’re setting you up on blind dates,” The King blurted, and Gendry suspected if Arya was drinking, she would have spat it across the room.

“Ex-excuse me?” she stuttered, her hands gripping into the edge of the chair. Gendry felt his heart clench. There was a reason this was awkward. At least Gendry knew the Queen had a heart - or at least she expressed human emotions that range into uncomfortable, awkward situations.

“To ease the transition period of you two...near each other again, we’re pursuing some dates that you can go on to steer the conversation away from you all together, Gendry,” she said, looking up to Gendry. His hands behind his back, clutched tight to one another, holding himself

“That…” he stopped himself as he shifted his weight between the balls of his feet, “that uh, sounds reasonable, your Majesty,” he gave a nod.

“Mum, this isn’t exactly fair to either me or Gendry,” Arya scoffed.

Gendry cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the room to him. “You Highness, your Majesty, please disregard my feelings on this matter. Whatever will be best for the royal family, I am on board with.” To that, Arya looked like she wanted to punch him - or gut him.

“See, Arya.” The Queen smiled, though it faded when she looked at him - a wave of guilt washing over her. Gendry swallowed. “We’ll arrange the dates, as well as some public outings to give you a chance to get to know some of these Lords and Ladies,” she explained.

Arya jolted forward. “Wow, wait, I’m being set up with Ladies? Mum, you know how I feel about noblewomen, they’re always so -”

“One is Elia Sand,” the King interrupted, and raised his brow.

“Okay, yeah that’s fine,” Arya muttered, settling back in her chair, folding her arms, “and the other one?”

“Myrcella,” The Queen said next, and Arya groaned.

“Baratheon?! Are you kidding me?!” she exclaimed. Gendry stood to the side, awkwardly trying to go unnoticed. He wanted to be like a fly on the wall, as he was always trained to do. But in that moment, he felt like he was sticking out like a ugliest statue that ever graced the halls of such a place.

The Queen leaned forward, her hands coming together as she spoke. “She’s shown great interest in -”

“Nope! She hates my guts, ever since I threw mud in her face when we were five,” Arya argued, reclining back into her chair, pulling away as far as she could from her mother and her demands. But, the scowl that Catelyn Stark wore better than anyone, said otherwise.

“It’s not up for discussion. You don’t have to actually date her, just one outing and we’ll call it from there,” she said, and with one wave, that was the end. Arya trudged off, and Gendry had to follow.

Outside the door, Arya groaned, hands in her hair like she wanted to the pull at her scalp. She continued to groan as she stumbled to the kitchen. There, she made herself a coffee and sat at one of the kitchen counters. Gendry sat opposite her, like he used to. It wasn’t until he was seated that he realised he probably shouldn’t have. But Arya didn’t seem to notice, or at least she didn’t care.

After Arya had downed her newest cup of coffee, making herself a second and her third of the morning, Gendry got the courage he needed and spoke.

“You complained about Myrcella, but from what I remember at Robb’s wedding, she was definitely staring at you,” he mentioned. Before Arya could raise the mug to her lips, she stopped and glared at him.

“Shut up,” she said, drinking her newest cup, and tearing herself away, as though a thought came to her and she couldn’t wait to yell about her frustrations. “I have nothing in common with her. Only thing we’d actually find fun together is probably sex,” she explained, going back and drinking as much as her coffee as she could with an irritated look on her face.

“Please don’t say that anyone else,” Gendry said, scratching the back of his neck.

“Okay, but don’t think about it in your spare time,” Arya teased.

“Trust me, I won’t,” he laughed.

“Well, trust isn’t a word I’d associate with you anymore,” she smirked to herself before her expression fell, “sorry. Cheap shot.”

“It’s fine,” he lied. It hurt to hear her say it. He knew she would have done so before the break up, but it was like a rusted knife went into his gut, tearing at his insides as she drew it out. It wasn’t fair to feel guilty, but in the end, heartache was always a blade that wounded more than just the intended person.

It took a week for the two royal women to meet. Gendry was there around their reintroduction to each other. Myrcella gave a sweet smile and giggled at Arya’s jokes, and that was all he saw. From their meeting in the palace, Gendry and Sandor swapped their roles.

To pass the time, Sansa kept Gendry off the internet - she made him go around the whole palace twice to try and find her phone, which happened to be in her pocket the whole time. Then, she made him feel extremely uncomfortable by making him sit next to her on her bed. She was lounging around and he sat straight legged on her bed as she talked.

After about half an hour of this, waiting for her to tell him to move - as she requested him to stay put - she suddenly kicked at his thigh. He frowned as she sat up, looking at him at the foot of the bed.

“I will bet you twenty quid that Arya is being forced to go shopping right now,” she smirked, teasing her sister that wasn’t even there.

“You’re saying that like you don’t wish you were her right now,” Gendry scoffed. Sansa narrowed her eyes at him, clicking her tongue against her teeth.

“I feel as though it’s some kind of jab about me being hyper feminine compared to my sister, but you’re right,” she said, as though she wasn’t anticipating being read like she just was.

There was a silence that hovered around them, even as Sansa smiled and went back to her phone - Gendry knew there was more that he didn’t know, that he very well could have. Sansa wasn’t much different than Arya; always willing to be a friend if given the chance. “What would you get?” he asked.

Sansa looked up at him, frowning at him. “Shopping?”

“Sure,” he shrugged.

“Are you just making small talk or do you actually want to know?” she asked, a cautious look on her brow.

“You seem fairly interesting, I want to get to know you, Sansa,” he said, honesty in his words.

Sansa’s eyes went wide. “Fairy interesting?” Gendry shrugged again.

“Look, I’m in love with your sister, she kind of sets a bar,” he smiled and Sansa laughed.

“Fair,” she shrugged back, “have you seen those ridiculous denim high heels?” she asked, not even able to keep a straight face. Gendru stared in shock before the words slipped out of his mouth.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he howled out a laugh, holding tight to his stomach as every laugh ripped into his side, unable to hold it in. Sansa laughed hard too, kicking at his thigh again as she tried to explain. It took them a few minutes to regain their breaths to finally get the explanation.

“I want to wear them just once to scare the shit out of Arya. it’s why I buy half the shit I wear. Just to see that girl’s reaction to horrible fashion,” she explained, falling back into her bed, giggling as she thought on it longer. Gendry scoffed out a laugh before nudging Sansa’s leg.

“You two love torturing each other,” he said, to that, she nodded.

“It’s what sisters do.” Sansa chuckled.

From what Gendry and Sansa found out later, that Gendry did in fact owe Sansa twenty quid, as shopping was all over the news, and it was definitely clear that Myrcella had a thing for Arya. Even if it was brief or some kind of want of flirtation, from all the photos that were out, it seemed that Myrcella seemed keen on Arya in her own way.

Gendry didn’t ask how far it went. He didn’t want to know.

Another outing was planned, a date over dinner that went as fine as the first - from the gossip that Arya gave after the fact, she and Myrcella talked about their families before they were stuck back into silence. They shared a long embrace at the end of the night which got picked up by every tabloid on the planet, and that was that. Myrcella still texted Arya, asking how she was doing but they had both agreed they were better off shit talking Joffrey than they were at ever being a couple.

After that, it was on to the next. Again, another night in with Sansa with Sandor taking his place. And as always, he was left to know the next day what happened the day or night before. He had seen the small talks of it online, the Forge their place to meet, some sort of dancing that had people gasping.

Elia Sand was a lady of the court, not of royal blood, but was known as a noble rebel. She and Arya had many similar qualities, both a little reckless but did so for their own freedom. It was worth commending.

The next day, with Arya in a hungover state once more, Gendry walked behind her to the kitchen. When her phone buzzed, Gendry had no intention to look over her shoulder, though it was quite easy to do so. What he found was Arya looking at a text that Elia sent, of the two women in the bathroom at the Forge, pressed in a stall and their tongues down the other’s throat.

“I see things with Elia Sand went well,” Gendry scoffed over her shoulder. Arya jumped, scrolling through her phone as quickly as she could. Across her cheeks a pinkish hue brightened her face, and panic was clear as day in her body.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect that to get seen,” she laughed, shoving her phone in her pocket. Gendry stopped. He had embarrassed her? Fuck. He never wanted to do that. “I’m sorry about that,” she tried. Gendry shook his head, hands bound tight behind his back.

“Don’t be. It’s not my place,” he said, clearing his throat, the lump of guilt mixing with shame didn’t make any of this less uncomfortable. From her spot, she straightened out her shoulders before walking back towards him, a sway in her hips that was her old way of flirting with him. Gendry’s mouth went dry at just the action. She shouldn’t have been allowed to do that.

“So, what are you going to do to match up to this?” she teased. With a hammering of his heart in his chest, he felt like he wanted to collapse. It felt unfair, as though he were finally taken down to the lowest he could - that she would break him down to the man he was supposed to be a year or so ago; to have him uncomfortable from the advances of a royal princess and ignore them. It could have been malice with her words, to tease and pull back at the last second, but as he looked at her, eyes eager for the reply she wanted - an example of how he’d win her over again, he sighed and felt his self pity wash away for a moment.

“I don’t think many would be able to match up to a kiss like that,” he scoffed.

Arya stepped to his side, to walk beside him again, slow and wanting to waste the time that way. “But?” They wandered the halls, no longer needing the coffee that would keep Arya awake.

“Maybe, after these public dates are over with, you and I can go out boxing? Like we used to?” he asked, chewing on the inside of his lip. He knew Arya wasn’t mean or cruel, but all his heart screamed was that he was going to be let down like he had done to her.

“I’d like that,” she replied, and for a second, he felt every hair on his body stand on end to see that smile, “we can go tomorrow, you know? It’s not like anyone would see it as out of the ordinary, it’s what we used to do,” she suggested, looking up at him with cautious optimism.

“If you’re happy with that, then I’m ok with it,” he nodded. To that, Arya smiled, racing ahead a few feet before stopping near a potted plant to throw up in. Gendry stood beside her, holding back her hair and patting her back as she hunched over the pot.

When she left, and out of earshot, Gendry called housekeeping personnel, and told them someone threw up in a potplant. He never gave a name and saved Arya some embarrassment. He did, however, tell Sansa about it, purely so he could talk to her about it in the coming days.

Arya spoke about her night in the briefest terms. The two women didn’t want anything other than to have a little fun. They danced, they drank, they made out in a bathroom stall. That was it. Gendry tried to hold back a smile as she told him, but she noticed and smiled back.

The next day came, both going out bright and early to the gym where barely anyone came. Arya was excited to work out with Gendry again, he knew that because she told him after every machine or the reps they needed to get. Finally getting back to the hand to hand stuff, Arya threw Gendry to the ground enough that it made his back ache. It took him a few tries to do it, but he managed to get Arya on her back, pinning her there before she eventually tapped out.

Genrdy still had little word on who first trained Arya, but whoever did so made Arya one hell of a fighter to begin with. She was focused, knowing how to get out of basically every hold that he could think of, and was a master manipulator of her body, moving in such a fashion that blew his mind every time she squeezed herself out of a situation.

Being thrown to the ground at around eight in the morning, Gendry wanted to call it a day, but before he could, he heard Arya squeak above him. Getting up onto his elbows quickly, he watched Arya bound towards a boy around Arya’s age. He was chubby around the edges, but in no way overweight, just a little cushion to him. Arya didn’t care about how sweaty she was when she jumped into his waiting arms.

“Mycah!” she yelled, giggling as his face went into the crook of her neck and holding onto her for dear life. Gendry’s chest clenched tight, no longer feeling a beating heart. “Oh my gods! What’s it been?” she asked as he set her back on her feet.

“Like ten years,” he replied, holding her face in is hands, “it’s so good to see you,” he laughed.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, smoothing her hair out on the edges, flicking it back into the sweat that lined her face.

“Didn’t your mum tell you?” he asked.

Arya stepped back from him. “You’re my date?!”

“Sure am!” he beamed. Gendry knew what it was now. Mycah Butcher. He wasn’t noble, but he was a childhood friend, his father once working in the kitchen before he eventually had to move. The two were fond companions, causing trouble when they shouldn’t, and overall, confiding in each other when no one else could see their reasoning.

Gendry wasn’t expecting him that day. He didn’t plan for this gym session to be their only interaction - to make it only about the gym instead of their normal routine of working out and talking it out. It was easy for them to exhaust themselves so when truths flew into the air, they were guaranteed not to run off easily. Gendry stood, rolling his shoulders as he walked over to his gear.

“Seven hells! You’ve made my day!” Arya beamed back at him. Packing things up, Gendry hitched up his bag onto his shoulder, taking out a cap and putting it on. He was more used to hiding his face in public than he ever had been in the past. It was odd how easy it had become to blend in when he wanted to.

“Your highness,” Gendry said, making Arya turn back to him. “I think we can meet up later. You have Beric with you,” Gendry said pointing out the window to Beric standing by the car.

“Oh, thank you,” she said, waving Gendry off, “I can’t believe it’s you!” she said again to Mycah.

Out the door, Gendry looked to Beric, stepping over to him as he looked back into the gym, Arya seemingly overexcited by the person in front of her. Gendry liked being that person for her. It was a lost cause now, her attention constantly distracted - giving her the opportunity to know that she could move on, and easily. Gendry knew he couldn’t.

“You good to look after her?” he asked.

“Where are you going?” Beric grumbled.

“To drink away the self pity I have over seeing that,” he said, pointing back inside, ready to go to the one place he felt the safest.

“Hey, Waters, come here,” Beric called out. Walking back to him, Beric held onto Gendry’s shoulder, holding him in place. “I gave you a hard time the other week, and I’m sorry, it’s just -”

Gendry interrupted. “Bodyguard 101. Don’t get attached.”

“Is it hard with her doing this?” Beric asked, and Gendry gave out a sigh. Looking back at Beric, a man that didn’t really care about Gendry’s troubles, he found it easy to speak what he needed.

“More than I’m letting on.” He admitted it without hesitating, and the look that Beric gave was that of pity. He let Gendry go with a tough slap to the shoulder. “Thanks,” Gendry replied, moving off and finding the same old pub he used to work at when he was a boy. Sweeping up after dark, cleaning tables in the morning when the night crowd didn’t disperse until dawn.

The Stag’s Head.

Opening the doors, closed to the public, Gendry walked up the bar, seeing the place almost spotless. It felt wrong, that there wasn’t something to do in order to get it ready for a lunch rush - which used to be the staple of their establishment. Now, it felt barren and unwanted.

“Mum?” he called, putting his bag on the counter. He wondered if he could sneak a beer before his mum noticed. She would with the speed she rushed out the back doors to him.

“Gendry! Sweetie,” she smiled, pulling him into her arms and pushing him onto a stool. From the determination in her, she was ready to make him food that he would say is his breakfast.

“Hey,” he asked as she roamed around the bar area, “how’s everything?”

“Business is picking up again since the princess has been dating,” she admitted, and Gendry sighed, pushing his hat off his head and putting it on the bar. “I’m sorry you see that,” his mother said, moving back to his space at the opposite side of the bar.

“More than I’d like,” he sighed, resting his chin on the bar top. It smelled foul up close, but it had the same smell as it had for the last twenty years.

“I didn’t -” his mother started before she lifted Gendry’s head from the bartop, “honey, I never wanted you to end things with her. I love Arya,” she beamed before she seemed to recognise her mistake, “Princess Arya,” she corrected. At least she corrected herself - Gendry failed to do that since he’d met her.

“Mum,” he replied, closing his eyes and hoping he could make it through this conversation without feeling as depressed as he had all morning. “I know you didn’t ask me to, but I needed to do that. It was best,” he said, looking back at her. Tilting her head, Tailya sighed, hands firm on the bar as she scowled back at him.

“Best for who?” she asked. Before he could give her an answer, one that he hadn’t thought of, he got a text. Reaching into his pocket, he saw the palace asking him back.

“I just got a call, I have to go,” he sighed, leaning over the bar and kissing his mother’s cheek. Gathering up his things, he left the pub, ignoring the fact that he could have caught a lift with the rest of the team. Instead, he opted to walk back to the palace. It took him half the morning, but he got back, showering in the security quarters, and dressing in his suit.

He had to wander around the palace before Arya made it back in the afternoon, still as happy as when he left her. Still, she went off to her room, her mother going inside to talk with her about the date, to which they took a fair while. As Gendry waited, his new friend bounded towards him, mockingly punching him in the stomach as she perked up.

“How you doing? Did it go well?”

“Which part? The gym part or where Mycah came to date Arya?” he asked back in a whisper. To that, Sansa’s face dropped.

“Mycah Butcher? You’re kidding?” she exclaimed.

“Nope. Seems like that’s who she was with all day,” he replied, and Sansa sighed.

“I’m sorry. Next time,” she said, patting his shoulder before skipping down the hall.

After a few more minutes, the Queen came out of Arya’s room, smiling to herself. When she saw Gendry, she jumped, clearing her throat and handing him a pile of notes.

“I expect this is greatly awkward for you,” she said, avoiding his eyes.

“I don’t see how my feelings need to mean anything to your family anymore, your majesty,” Gendry said, focusing back across the hall, avoiding the gaze that the queen held on him. What shocked him however, was the hand that she placed on his elbow, making his attention fall back on the queen.

“My boy, please don’t think you are lesser than we are because you are not royal or noble born. You have every right to rule over your own happiness,” she said, and Gendry felt himself stare in disbelief. The queen had never been the type to talk to him like that - like he were family, or someone worth caring for, “please read over these notes. I am sorry in advance,” she remarked, nodding before heading down the hall.

Gendry looked over the notes as he knocked on Arya’s door. She called for him to come in, and as he opened the door, he stopped midday, stuck on a line that was written in.

“I see you scheduled another outing with Mycah in two nights time,” Gendry said, putting his notes behind his back, walking in to see Arya’s room scattered with clothes, as though she were trying to find the right outfit for whatever she was planning on doing.

“It’s just drinks. We decided we wanted to catch up,” Arya shrugged, going into her bathroom, but her smile made everything feel like what he did to get back to Arya was a hopeless endeavour. Did he really have to try anymore, or would it be a wasted effort to give himself to her all over again? Would she even want to after all these dates?

He hated that he would now compare himself to others. He never used to. Arya would yell at him for doing it, he predicted.

After Arya showered, she dressed in some lounging clothes and mainly stayed in her room. Sansa came for a visit at one stage, laughing at her for her vomit incident the other day. Arya threw a pillow at Gendry who laughed at the sisters. Sansa even said there was a stain on the carpet where the potplant couldn’t catch everything - Gendry knew it was a lie because he had checked. Arya didn’t, and buried her face into her bed.

After Sansa left, turning her face away as though she were ignoring him - but he saw her smug grin - it was Arya and Gendry once more, their presence around each other left them in tension and silence. The silence seemed to fuel the tension, but neither broke it, in fear of starting a fire that neither of them could

“I think I should head out. Promise not to jump out the window?” Gendry laughed, his finger tugging down on the knot in his tie, turning to leave as Arya seemed to settle into her room. From behind him, he could hear her jostling around on her sheets.

“Can I ask you something?” Arya said, and Gendry finished tugging off his tie. He let the loose fabric rest on his shoulders and stuck his hands in his pockets, turning back to her. Arya had stood at the end of her bed, and Gendry walked back to her.

“Always,” he said, meaning it too.

Arya rested her chin on her chest for a moment, fingers binding in to the edge of her jumper sleeve. Then, she looked up to him, eyes scared to know an answer that hadn’t even been questioned. “Have you stopped fighting for me because I’m not...opening up? That I’m making it too hard?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Am I hard to love? Is that why you’re pulling away and not giving us a ch-”

“Arya, I told you,” he started, before the words got caught up in his chest. Could he even bring himself to lie. “Your happiness means more to me than anything else. I’m never going to get in the way of that again.”

“What if -”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Gendry stepped into her space, his hand on her cheek. He thought she’d recoil, that she’d pull away, instead, she relaxed into his touch, her eyes closing for a brief moment as though to savour this time. When she opened her eyes, Gendry felt himself lean down, words only they could hear, “you deserve...you deserve someone that isn’t going to break your heart.”

Arya gripped into his collar, his forehead resting against hers. “I don’t want anyone else,” she confessed, and that was when Gendry pulled away. It was slow, and scorching to do so.

“I don’t want to let you go, but -”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” she repeated. “Just..leave it as it is. Please don’t give up hope.”

“I promise,” he said, not knowing if he would keep his words true, or if he had confessed a lie. All he knew was that when she held him, all he wanted to do was kiss her and ask her for forgiveness in every way he could, submit to her every whim just to see if she’d love him again. He would go down on his knees and beg, but would it ever mean anything to her? Gendry was unsure of anything these days, it would be foolish to even try.

After that, Arya went out for drinks with Mycah, more photos and more articles revolving around Arya’s love life were in the papers. People speculator as to the real reason for the cycling dates, most were wrong, some were right, others were downright weird reasons.

Then, one night came, an unexpected date came to town and wanted something for he and Arya that would give them a chance out of the spotlight. It was the first real effort that Arya had at a date thus far. Everything was very casual with the others - this was a lord trying to impress a princess.

Arya wore a simple jumpsuit, a silk material bound in at her waist with a bright red belt. She looked stunning, but Gendry didn’t say anything. He just smiled and they drove to the restaurant that was arranged. They were told to wait outside. Gendry didn’t know much of the procedures for these sort of things - he was only on duty that night because Sandor had gone off with Sansa doing something that no one knew about. It drove Gendry mad, knowing he had to be apart of this in some way.

“It’s the last one. It’ll be over before we know it,” Arya sighed, shifting back and forth between her heels. Gendry cleared his throat, shoulders deflating at the words. He always forgot this wasn’t going to go away, that they would be able to build themselves overtime - they would constantly be torn apart. Then, a hand smacked against his stomach, making him looking down at Arya who scowled at him, “you promised, remember?”

“I know,” he replied, feigning a smile. He was probably as good to lying to Arya as she were to him. They were each other’s lie detector, finding the truth hidden behind layers of lies and pain. Part of him knew, that even with his promise, reality wouldn’t match up. He could promise her everything she’d ever wished for, but at the end of it all, he’d still be ushered away. Gendry was going to be pulled from her life without a second word.

Gendry wanted to cling on, but after seeing how Arya was when he broke it off, he wondered if it wasn’t for the best - to never be in the woman’s life again, never be able to hurt her. It was hard for him to think of himself highly, even after understanding the royal family were like any other - something stood in the way of his happiness.

In the back of his mind, he thought of someone who he had never met. Someone that had impacted his life without stepping foot in it.

Maybe he was why.

Arya sighed, her finger gracing over his hand. He unconsciously flinched, looking around for prying eyes. It was funny how things worked now; when he dated Arya, he didn’t care who saw, not that they were broken up, all he cared about was her appearance with him. “I do want to start over, but it’s hard to -”

“Your highness, the car is pulling up,” Gendry said, putting his hands behind his back and stepping away from her. It felt like the right thing to do - the step away from her when matters like this were at hand.

As the car rolled up, a young man walked out, pinned in a casual suit jacket and jeans combo, blond hair slightly astray, and he waved off the escorting security that tried to stop him running to Arya and Gendry. “I’m sorry I’m late!” he called just before he reached the two. Gendry looked to Arya - she showed no real interest in him, but she still smiled, like she had to out of obligation.

Then he got closer, and Arya sucked in a breath. He reached out to her as he stopped in front of her.

“Ned Dayne,” he introduced, his hand delicate to touch hers. When their hands came together, soft and tender, holding tight for a moment, a breath taken in between them both, before they finally let each other go, and they could breathe in sync. It made Gendry feel like he was invading on something he shouldn’t have been apart of in the first place.

“It’s great to meet you,” she smiled, her lip going between her teeth briefly and a soft chuckle slipped from her lips as she looked down at her heels. Gendry felt his mouth go dry and his hands clung to one another behind his back. He felt like he wanted to drag himself out of their the second the pair latched eyes. It wasn’t right for him to think like that though, he had no right to do that anymore.

“Come in,” he asked her. Gendry followed after her as she went inside behind Ned. From the little Gendry had been debriefed about the Lord was this; he was kind, though he didn’t outwardly show any sort of distain for anyone, in recent past, he kept to himself as he studied english at university where he thrived. Everything else seemed like a mystery - he stayed inside, he kept to himself mostly, but was reclusive. Gendry suspected he was like Arya; the person in the family that seemed the most mysterious, but just wanted more for themselves out of their family name.

In the restaurant, the staff waited patiently, bowing as Arya walked in before moving onto their next task. Arya held herself tighter, as though she felt claustrophobic of the open space. In her defense, it made Gendry’s skin crawl - too much open space meant more opportunity to get into contact with her. He had doubts those were her fears.

“Where is everyone?” she asked.

“I rented out the restaurant. I wanted to get to know you, and not have people listening in,” he said, a genuine and sweet looking smile appeared on his lips.

“I’d like that,” Arya sighed, letting her arms loose. Gendry cleared his throat, drawing attention to him from the two.

“Your Highness,” Gendry gave a nod to Arya before turning to Ned, “My Lord.” His goodbye without saying it. Why would he need to. It wasn’t his right. He found himself thinking that a lot.

A right. A privilege. Something that was given to him but not freely taken. He had no right to be around Arya, but was given the opportunity. His only crime was loving her when no one gave him the right to.

Arya stepped into him. “Where are you -”

“I’ll be just outside. So you can have some more privacy, your highness,” Gendry said, and for a moment, he thought he saw doubt in her. As though she saw herself and what mistakes she may make - that in the presence of the man beside her, she’d find a happiness that once lay in Gendry.

“Thank you,” she said, a sadness to her words that he wished would fade. In time, at least.

“Yes, thank you,” Ned said, extending his hand. Gendry looked down and without thinking, took it. It was a kindness that he showed overall, Gendry didn’t want to give him a bad impression - especially if it meant something more for Arya. “I didn’t catch your name,” he asked, shaking Gendry’s hand. Nervous, Gendry cleared his throat, straightening out his shoulders.

“Gendry.”

“Ah yes, I remember now. Gendry Waters,” he recalled as if he had known it from a distant memory. From the corner of his eye, he caught Arya looking at Gendry, as they both knew where he knew the name. “A pleasure,” he said, innocent as ever.

“You too, my lord,” Gendry said, clearing his throat and leaving the pair. As Gendry got to the door, he stopped and look back. To see what was happening in his absence. Ned put his hand on the small of Arya’s back as he took them to the table of his choice and smiled to her like he had been falling in love with her from such a distance, and within his sight - there she was.

Gendry understood, being in Arya’s gravity made everything seem brighter, as though she hung the stars and they left a shine over her entire being. It was as though the heavens had touched down on her and graced the earth with the simplest thing as her smile.

As the pair sat opposite each other, they looked perfect together, like they were paired from some greater being. The old gods and the new formed them to be one and they fit - like they were waiting to fall back into place. And there they were, and Gendry was just the man on the sidelines, watching for his heart to break more than it had before.

Arya giggled, like she did with him only a few months prior. She tucked hair behind her ear, lip caught between teeth as she listened to him talk. Although the words were lost to him, Gendry could make out that it was something worth keeping her attention in the first place.

Gendry lit the cigarette, setting it between his teeth, and dragging the smoke in with the air of the night. He hoped it killed him, that the smoke would fill his lungs and choke him because it would be less painful than the broken heart that captivated him at present.

As the smoke left him, mixing in with the cold night air that only the North could hold, Gendry felt like he were ready to be sick. It was as though bile was rising in his throat, but he didn’t get to physically retch it from his body. Instead, he was left to rest his hand to his head, wrist shaking as the sickness turned into a choked sob.

He hadn’t felt like he had truly lost Arya until that night, where she smiled and laughed, acted like herself again with someone that could replace him. Replace Gendry so easily, it were like he never existed in the first place.

“Fuck,” he said, and finally, the tears came out, his hand slipping down from his forehead to rest over his eyes. Hunched against the wall of the building, he hid away his shame - and the pain of the final blow of a lost love.

She was gone, and there was nothing more Gendry could do but cry, out of sight and out of mind of everyone that once cared who he was.

Once more, he was insignificant. Just like everyone wanted him to be.

#gendrya #got fic #gendry x arya #arya x gendry #gendrya fic #cfois #chivalry fell on its sword #my fics

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nazariolahela · 5 years ago

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Something Domestic: Chapter 2

A/N: Hey y'all! This is a new TRR AU I’ve been working on. This story is told in first-person narrative, from Riley’s (MC) POV. There will likely be smidges of canon in this, but not too much. Thanks for reading, and please leave feedback, and/or if you would like to be tagged.

Catch up here

Series Tags: @burnsoslow @aworldoffandoms @dcbbw @ladyangel70 @texaskitten30 @sunandlemons @jlynn12273 @drakesensworld @badchoicesposts

Synopsis: When Riley Brooks takes a new job as a nanny for the affluent Rhys family in New York’s Upper East Side, she assumes she’s just going to care for the children of the couple who hired her. But instead of just school pick-ups and afternoon snacks, she also finds herself spending time with Liam, the handsome divorced dad. Can Riley control her feelings for Liam while still performing the job she was hired for?

All characters are the property of Pixelberry Studios. Thanks for allowing me to borrow them.

Chapter Summary: Riley gets the grand tour of her new employer’s home.

Madeleine walks me through the rest of the penthouse, showing off each room. We make our way to the second floor where the bedrooms and bathrooms are located. The second level has the best view, in my opinion. At the top of the stairs, the floor splits into two wings. Down the west wing, she points out a playroom, and Charlotte and Philip’s rooms, a large bathroom with a soaking tub, and a walk-in shower that’s probably bigger than my entire apartment.

There are doors on either side of the bathroom that lead to the kids’ rooms. We continue down to the end of the hall to the guest room, which has its own half bath. The size of this room makes me think it’s the master bedroom, except for the tiny bath. Looking around, I notice a book and a cell phone charger on the nightstand next to the bed. There is also a bathrobe hanging on the back of the door. This room looks pretty lived-in for being a guest room, and I wonder to myself who else is staying here.

Making our way back, we head down the east wing of the penthouse, and she shows me Liam’s office and the master suite. In the middle of the tour, Madeleine’s phone buzzes and she excuses herself to answer it. Letting my curiosity get the best of me, I slip in through the slightly ajar door to see the most amazing sprawling master bedroom with a four-poster bed. There’s a massive walk-in closet full of designer clothes and shoes.

A single framed photo sits on one of the nightstands. I make my way closer to inspect it and see that it’s a wedding photo. Awkward.

I inspect the photo. Liam looks like the happiest man in the world. Of course, Madeleine isn’t smiling. I’m pretty sure the woman is incapable. I step away from the photo and examine the rest of the bedroom.

To the left, is the five-fixture en-suite master bath. A sliding glass door leads out to a triple-wrap terrace where a fire pit sits in the middle of an eight-piece outdoor sofa set. The view from the balcony is absolutely stunning. The New York skyline sits in front of me like a priceless painting. I slip through the sliding door and make my way across the balcony. As I take in the view, I peek over the railing to see the bustling street below. A girl could get used to this.

“Enjoying the view?” A voice says from behind me, and I jump. I turn around to find Liam standing in the doorway, watching me. Good lord, this man is stunning. I need to control myself if I'm going to be working for him.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be out here. Madeleine was giving me a tour, and she had to take a phone call.” I say as my cheeks burn.

He smiles at me, shaking his head. “No biggie. She got a call from work so she asked me to finish giving you the tour. But it seems you’ve already found your way around the place. What do you think so far?”

“This place is incredible. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a home.” I say, turning back to stare out at the cityscape. I feel him behind me, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand.

“It is a pretty spectacular view,” he says, striding across the balcony toward me. “One of the reasons we bought this place is because of this. I fell in love with it the minute I saw it.”

I nod, looking around the balcony. “I can see why.” I don't even know how much he paid for this place, but it’s totally worth it. Note to self: Look up the value of his home on Zillow later tonight. I turn to him, “The place is amazing. Even though it's so spacious, it feels so cozy." I pause. Do I bring up the guest room? I don't know why it's necessary, but before I can stop myself, I blurt out the question. "Uhmmm..one more thing. Just curious if anyone else is going to be living here. I noticed the guest room looks like someone’s been staying in there.”

His body stiffens and he looks down at the ground as his hand rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. That’s actually what I wanted to speak with you about earlier, but the kids were in the room.”

I cock my eyebrow at him. “Oookay?”

He takes a deep breath and his steely blue eyes stare into mine. God, I could get lost in them. His voice wavers as he speaks. “Madeleine and are in the middle of a divorce. That’s her room.”

My own baby blues widen. Well, this just went from zero to awkward AF in about 2.5 seconds. How did I not notice that beforehand? The cold looks she shot him during my interview. The way she sat separately from her family. The martini at 11 o’clock in the morning. “Oh...I see,” I reply, averting my eyes back to the skyline.

“We haven’t told a lot of people yet. The tabloids don’t even know. The only people who know are our families and close friends. And, well you, now. We’re hoping to make this as civilized as possible without upsetting Charlotte and Philip too much. Once everything is finalized, we’re going to tell the kids and she’ll be moving out. In the meantime, she stays in the east wing with the kids.”

“So, what’s up with the wedding photo on the nightstand?”

He sighs deeply and runs his fingers through his hair. “I guess I haven’t gotten around to putting it away yet. Part of me hasn’t accepted that our marriage is over.”

I swallow, not entirely sure how to respond. He's opening up to me, and I don't know how to comfort him. Come to think of it, why does he feel the need to tell me this? I'm not family or close friends. I'm just a stranger. His kids' nanny, actually. I understand why he thinks this is important information for me to know, considering I’m going to be a part of his family’s lives for the foreseeable future, but it seems so personal. I wonder to myself, not daring to ask what happened. As if he’s reading my thoughts, he answers my question.

“She cheated on me. Slept with some stuffy suit from her PR firm. Rashad or something like that.” He turns to me and I catch him watching me out the corner of my eye.

Holy shit. Talk about a scandal. My heart breaks for him. I think to myself how someone could do something like that to someone they supposedly love. Especially someone as good looking as Liam. Even when he’s heartbroken, he looks so kissable. Damnit, Riley. Stop it. This is bordering on inappropriate. The man’s wife betrayed him and he's your motherloving boss, you horny bitch! I push the thoughts back and nod. “I'm sorry to hear that. Forgive me for overstepping, but why are you telling me this?”

He laughs in a rich, deep tone, the sound reverberating through my body. “Well, since you’re practically a part of our family now, I figured that you should know. I’m sorry if it feels like I’m pouring my heart out to you. I just wanted you to be aware of the situation in case it comes up.”

I give him a weak smile and rack my brain, thinking of something to change the subject with. Think Riley, think. After what feels like forever, I speak up. “So, other than your kids and your company, what do you do in your spare time?”

A grin spreads across his face. “Not much since the kids were born, but my best friend Drake owns a tavern a few blocks from here called The Double Tappe. I try to get down there once a week for a drink.”

“Oh my god! I love that place,” I reply. “It’s my favorite Happy Hour spot.” It’s more than that though, It’s practically the hottest dive bar in town for the under-30 crowd. I grin recalling that Hana and I spend every Friday night there sucking down $5 Whiskey Sours and singing karaoke. I rack my brain, trying to think if I’ve seen him there before, but given that I’m some form of intoxicated most of the time, it’s no use.

He nods. “Yeah, it’s gotten pretty popular over the years, much to Drake’s dismay. For a guy whose business thrives on customer service, he’s not the most outgoing person.”

“Drake,” I say to myself, trying to picture him in my head. “Wait... Dark brown hair, always wearing flannel and turning his nose up at anyone who orders something other than whiskey?”

Liam chuckles, “That’s the one. He’s kind of a stickler when it comes to a good spirit. I told him when he opened the place that not everyone drinks whiskey, but he didn’t want to hear it. He almost had to close the doors a few years back because he refused to serve any other drinks. Thankfully, he came to his senses and expanded his menu, but it took a little kicking and screaming for him to get there.”

I giggle. “Well, I’m glad things worked out for him. His bar is great for broke postgrads like myself. Great atmosphere and the drinks are cheap.”

“I’ll be sure to pass that along,” Liam smiles.

We both stand there listening to the sounds of the city before my stomach rudely interrupts. I smile and look at the time on my phone. It’s already past noon and clearly, I’m starting to get hungry. “Well, if there’s nothing more to show me, I suppose I should take off. Thank you again for this opportunity. I'm really looking forward to getting to know you and your family."

He reaches over and places his hand on my arm to stop me, then pulls it back. "Hey...if you don't have plans, how about we go get a bite to eat?"

I eye him warily. Did he really just invite me to lunch? He's extremely attractive, but he's also my boss. One lunch won't hurt, right? However, what would the agency say if they found out I was taking private lunches with employers? As I wage an inner battle with my thoughts, he clears his throat.

"I'm sorry. That was inappropriate. I don't want you to think I'm making a pass at you. I know how seriously you take your job."

I smile back at him. "Oh, no. It's fine. I'm actually supposed to meet my roommate in a little while. Umm...but I'll see you bright and early Monday morning."

He smiles and leads me back inside through the penthouse and back to the elevator. As I reach the foyer, I turn back to him and catch his eye. His gaze bores into me and my breath catches in my chest. Why do I suddenly feel flushed? Before I let my hormones take over and do something stupid, I extend my hand out and shake his. "Okay then. See you on Monday!" I say again a little too enthusiastically. The elevator door dings and I exhale, thanking the Gods for getting me out of this awkward situation. As I step in and turn around, I catch him smiling at me as the doors close.

Once the elevator makes its descent, I pull out my phone and immediately dial Hana. She picks up on the second ring.

"Hey! How did it go?"

Hoo boy, that's a loaded question. Do I tell her about the last sexually-charged hour? Shut up, Riley. It wasn't like that. Was there really chemistry between us or is it all in my head?

"Great! How about you meet me at our spot in half an hour and I'll tell you all about it over lunch?"

Her bubbly reply rings through the speaker. "Can't wait. See you soon!"

I hang up the phone and take a deep breath. When the elevator stops, and the doors glide open, I gather my thoughts and stride out into the lobby. The same receptionist is still at her perch, still catching up on her celebrity gossip.

Hmm...I notice that Liam and Madeleine are on the cover of her magazine with their children, looking like the perfect family. I frown as I think about how their situation really is. The receptionist looks up from her magazine, side-eying me as I wave goodbye and make my way out the front door to the busy sidewalk outside.

I stop for a moment and take a deep breath as the city buzzes with activity. I wave for a cab, and as one slows in front of me, I reflect on the last hour. Did all of that really just happen? Something about the way his eyes sparkled when he talked to me. I wonder if he felt it too. Either that or I totally imagined it and that’s just how looks at everyone. Maybe that's why Madeleine cheated. No, Riley. You don't know the whole situation so stop making assumptions. I swing open the cab door and climb inside. As I give the driver the address to the restaurant, I look back at the building and say a silent prayer for my sanity.

#trr au #trr fanfic #liam rhys #madeleine karlington #riley brooks #the royal romance #playchoices fanfic #something domestic #nanny au #nazariolahela fanfic

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chloelucia13 · 5 years ago

Text

Three Men and a Baby Part 2/? (Duncan-centric)

Pairing: Michael Langdon x reader, Jim Mason x reader, Duncan Shepherd x reader

Prompt (chapter): After deciding to go on “vacation” to DC with Duncan to meet his family, things take a turn for the worst... or do they?

Prompt (series): each of the boys has a crush on you, and it’s your time to choose when something life-changing occurs.

Chapter Warnings: angst, fluff, some smut, language, just the usual

Series Warnings: fluff, angst, language, violence, sexual situations, descriptions of pregnancy/pregnancy symptoms, mentions of abortion (it doesn’t happen though), just lots of drama

A/N: Here’s part 2! Like this part, there are also going to be a Michael-centric and Jim-centric parts in the future, so look forward to seeing those! In the meantime, I hope you enjoy! Read part 1 here!

DC was a dark and dreary place that seemed to suck the life out of you the moment the plane touched down in that God-forsaken place, leaving an empty void in your chest...

Or maybe that was just Duncan’s family...

No, scratch that. DC, though dark and frigid, was full of interesting views and events, making it oddly welcoming.

Bill and Annette Shepherd, on the other hand, lacked any welcoming quality, making them more isolating and cold than the January DC air that nipped at your skin.

You and Duncan had arrived at the Shepherd’s house three nights ago, the sky a bleary beige from the cold. Bill and Annette attempted to be friendly, making idle conversation. They were horrible at camouflaging their true colors, however, when the conversation switched to Duncan’s childhood. Snide remarks and jabbing comments spewed from both their mouths like venom, making you feel nauseous.

Duncan, on the other hand, acted as if they were talking about something as simplistic as the events of their day, nodding along with pursed lips and a slightly furrowed brow.

That night, as you and Duncan entered into his old room, you immediately began criticizing them as soon as they were out of earshot.

“What the fuck, Duncan?” you whispered, taking his hand and leading him over to the bed where you both sat.

He just shrugged slightly, almost in a trance of sorts. “It’s just how they are,” he replied simply, eyes trained on the wall. “You’ll get used to it.”

You shook your head incredulously, squeezing his hand slightly as your free hand reached up to gently cup his cheek, turning his head so he looked you in the eye. “What they were saying about you, saying to you, was disgusting! They-They have no right to treat you like that. It makes me sick.”

He sighed softly and squeezed your hand in return. “I’m used to it, Y/N. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not!” You clenched your jaw, trying not to scream. “You don’t deserve to be treated like that, and if you’re ‘used to it,’ then they’ve been treating you like that for a long time.” You traced your thumb along his jawline, eyes searching his. “You shouldn’t be used to it. You should be outraged, disgusted, anything but... But numb.”

He pursed his lips once again, looking down at your linked hands for a moment, before looking back up at you and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I know, babe. It’ll only be for a while.”

“I don’t like seeing you like this,” you whispered after a moment of silence. “I don’t like you being so... Submissive. It isn’t like you, at all.”

He just nodded again, running his thumb over your knuckles. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll talk to them tomorrow morning. If they don’t slow down on all of the comments, we’ll get a hotel room and avoid my family for the rest of the time. Deal?”

“Deal.”

He flashed you a kind, genuine smile as his eyes began to twinkle with a sort of mischief. “Now, onto more important things,” he hummed, wrapping his arms around your waist and pushing you down onto your back, moving to hover above you.

“Mind the baby!” you squealed out, hands flying up to rest on his shoulders.

“Which one, you or the one growing inside of you?”

You swatted his arm, earning a chuckle from him. “You’re an asshole.”

“I’m your asshole.”

You squinted at him, shaking your head slightly. “That sounds... Wrong. Don’t ever say that again.”

He dropped his head forward, pressing his forehead against your shoulder as he let out a full-body laugh. “Noted.”

The air was warm, a slight fog filming over the windows due to the contrasting weather from inside and outside. A weak glimmer of sunlight slipped through the cracks of the half-open curtains, casting a pale glow across your body and Duncan’s.

His fingers gently skimmed over the small bump of your belly, completely entranced by the maternal beauty you wore so perfectly. The gentle pressure of his lips against your temple stirred you from your slumber, a small sigh slipping past your own lips. “G’morning,” you mumbled, turning slightly and nuzzling closer to him.

“Morning, babe,” he hummed in response, propping his chin on top of your shoulder, strands of your hair brushing against his face. “What’s the baby craving today?”

You thought for a moment, still not fully awake. “Pancakes, I think.” A small sigh leaves your lips a moment later. God, what you would do for some coffee. But of course Duncan had to read every single pregnancy book in existence, learning that caffeine is a no-no and banning every drink that contained the chemical from the house. No coffee, no caffeinated tea, no soda, nothing.

He let out a chuckle. “Is mama cranky for coffee?” He nuzzled his nose into your neck and rested his hand atop your slightly bulging belly.

“Mmm, I thought Michael was the mind reader.”

“Not a mind reader. You’re pouting like you pout every other time you ask me for coffee.” He pressed a small kiss to your cheekbone before sitting up and hovering over you. “And the answer’s the same as it always is. No.”

You huffed and rolled over onto your side, playfully pushing out your lower lip.

“Oh come on, babe. I’ll still make you pancakes.”

You pursed your lips for a moment before turning your head and looking up at him. “With chocolate chips?”

Another laugh fell from his lips. “Of course. Anything for you.”

Your eyes fluttered shut once again when you heard the door close, and you woke up again to the scent of pancakes hitting your nose after what felt like only a moment.

Duncan set the tray of food down on the small desk in the corner before helping you prop yourself up against the headboard with a few pillows. “You know I’m only 5 months pregnant, not 9 months,” you teasingly declared with a small smirk.

“Well, I guess you could make breakfast for yourself,” Duncan mused in response, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“Oh I’m so crippled and weak, it hurts to walk, my life is miserable, please hand-feed me for I am too weak to lift the fork to my mouth.” You slouched against the headboard and draped your forearm against your forehead, being completely over-dramatic.

“Did you suddenly come down with the plague?” You just nodded in response and he let out a hum, grabbed the tray of food and setting it on your lap. He placed a glass of orange juice down on the bedside table and then sat at your feet, his hand comfortingly running up and down your shin.

“Thank you, Duncan,” you voiced sincerely after a moment, offering him a smile.

“Like I said, anything for you.”

You reached a hand out towards him and he took the hint, moving up on the bed until he sat next to you, his back against the headboard. He gently intertwined his fingers with yours and brought your joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

Your smile grew even brighter and you handed him a slice of toast before digging into your food, humming with satisfaction.

You were so fully engrossed in the delicious meal Duncan made that you didn’t even register the fact that his eyes, filled with pure admiration, lingered on you the entire time.

***

Another dinner, another conversation filled with sugar-coated insults hurled at Duncan.

You sat there with your cloth napkin twisted tightly wrapped around your fists, wrung taught. “Come on, Duncan, when even was the last time you were at a gala to support the business?” Bill chided, back rigid.

“Probably last summer,” Duncan replied quietly, his gaze focused on the still-full plate of food in front of him.

“Exactly. God, why did we even let you move to LA for college.”

There was a small silence, Duncan only nodding in response. “Do you need me to take your plate, Y/N?” Duncan voiced about a minute later, trying to change the subject.

You opened your mouth to respond before Bill interrupted. “And look at you, waiting hand and foot for her. It’s kind of pathetic.”

“And not to mention that she’s pregnant,” Annette broke in. “There are much nicer girls here in DC, Duncan. No girls who run around getting pregnant and keep their legs open at all times.”

The way she spoke about you, about Duncan, like you two weren’t in the room made your stomach churn. You pressed your lips together to avoid an outburst before rising to your feet, your plate in your hand. You took Duncan’s plate, as well, and slipped into the kitchen. You quickly cleaned the plates before hurrying back into the dining room, not wanting to leave Duncan alone for too long.

Before you could sit down, however, Duncan rose to his feet. “I’m done,” he voiced simply, taking your hand in his. “You can say whatever the fuck-”

“Language,” Bill intervened.

“-Fuck off, Bill. You can say whatever the fuck you want to about me, but if you ever say anything negative about Y/N...” He trailed off, his lips pressed into a fine line. “We’re leaving. We’re gonna stay in a hotel for the rest of the break. I expect an apology in the morning.”

Before either adults could get a word in, Duncan pulled you into your shared room and started packing up your suitcases. You watched him with wide eyes for a moment, unable to fully process what occurred.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Duncan choked out after a moment, stopping his actions and hanging his head. “I-I should have listened to you earlier about leaving. I-If I knew that they were going to say anything about you-”

“Duncan,” you interjected, stopping his rambling. “None of this is your fault. You defended me. You stood up against them.”

He nodded for a moment before walking over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist the moment he was close enough. You snaked your arms around his neck and clung tightly to him, burying your face in his shoulder as he nuzzled into your hair. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The two of you stood there for a few minutes, just soaking in each other’s touch and letting your worries wash away. Duncan was the first to pull away, only minutely, so he could brush his lips against yours. The tips of his fingers skimmed along your waist until they slipped under your top, tracing along your bare skin.

You gently pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes and fully pressed your lips to his, one hand tangling in his hair while the other cupped his jaw. Your lungs burned with a lack of oxygen, rendered completely breathless from Duncan’s touch.

“Fuck,” Duncan gasped out, pulling his lips from yours and darting his tongue out. “I need you.”

“At the hotel,” you instructed, voice slightly melancholy at the thought of having to wait.

Duncan nodded quickly and moved to shove all of your belongings into the two suitcases, actions frenzied and rushed.

The suitcases were packed in record time and he dragged them both behind him, letting go of one of them for a moment so he could pull you into a bruising kiss. He pulled away as quick as he began and continued forward, dragging both of the suitcases behind him.

The two of you hurried out of the house without even a glance towards Bill and Annette. Duncan shoved the two suitcases into the backseat of the car, despite your insisting that you needed to help him in some way. However, the adrenaline coursing through his veins seemed to make him deaf as he worked in silence before slipping into the driver’s seat and clenching onto the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip.

You sat down in the passenger seat and buckled up, eyes searching his form. “Duncan,” you whispered out after a moment of silence.

His eyes slowly flickered over to yours, his shoulders slouching as the adrenaline left his body, leaving him exhausted and in pain. “I’m sorr-”

“I know, love. Come on, I’m driving.” He just nodded and got out of the car, letting you slide into the driver’s seat as he hopped into the passenger seat. “just tell me where to go.”

***

Duncan, of course, had to choose the most expensive hotel in all of DC, and on top of that, had to buy the most expensive room.

You began to tug your wallet from your coat pocket to pay the bellhop before Duncan handed the young man a few $100 bills, making your eyes widen in surprise. The young man took them with a grateful smile before placing your suitcases in your room, handing the key to you afterwards.

Duncan grabbed your hand and pulled you into the room, taking the key and setting it on the table in the entry way before kicking the door shut and pressing you against the wall, his lips attaching to yours. “I need to fuck you, right now,” he muttered, fingers already tugging at the waistband of your leggings.

“I know,” you whispered against his lips, arching your back slightly to press closer to him. You let out a frustrated huff, however, when your swollen stomach restrained you from being able to press your breasts to his chest.

He didn’t seem to mind, though, as he crouched down and kissed his way down your throat and chest, mouth laving against your breasts over your shirt.

A groan bordering on pleasure and frustration fell from your lips and you slipped away from the wall, grabbing both of his hands and dragging him over to the bed before pushing him down onto it.

He stared up at you with pure admiration in his eyes, one hand dragging down his body to palm at his erection through his jeans. “C’mere baby,” he nearly begged, trapping his lower lip between his teeth.

You nodded, crawling up on the bed and moving to straddle his waist, letting out a small gasp when you felt his hard-on press against your core. You slowly situated yourself onto his lap before leaning down and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, fingers moving to undo the buttons on his shirt. Meanwhile, his hands alternated between kneading your ass and tugging your leggings off. Once you undid the last button, Duncan successfully pulled your leggings and panties down to your knees.

Duncan’s pupils dilated impossibly larger when he took in the sight of you, your hair flowing free and your core on display. A soft grunt fell from his lips when he watched you kick off your leggings and panties before sitting up on your knees. His hands worked quickly to rid you of your shirt and bra, as well, before tugging his own pants off, his unbuttoned shirt lingering on his body.

Duncan looked downright sinful underneath you, his hair fluffed out against the comforter and the sleeves of his shirt clinging tightly to his arms as the rest of his shirt flowed loosely, exposing his chest and slightly soft belly.

His voice brought you out of your trance, snapping your eyes from his body to his face. “I want you to ride my face,” he announced, voice thick with arousal. He seemed to be extremely excited by the idea, since his cock twitched at his own words.

You nodded slightly and took his hands in yours, beginning to crawl your way up towards his face. You stopped near his chest, doubts and insecurities filling your mind.

“What’s wrong?” He squeezed your hands and searched your eyes, brow furrowing slightly.

“I... I think I’m too big,” you admitted, avoiding his gaze afterwards. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He gently tugged your hands, drawing your attention back to him. “You are not too big. You won’t hurt me.” He sat up slightly and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the side of your breast before laying back down. “Now, get up here so I can taste that pretty cunt of yours.”

Arousal pooled at your core and dripped down your thighs, legs already beginning to shake slightly. You just nodded in response before crawling up his body until your center hovered over his face.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his heart beginning to race the moment he locked eyes with your wet center. Slowly, he leaned his head up and squeezed your hands, licking a bold stripe up your core.

You immediately lurched forward at the touch, a strangled moan leaving your lips. You looked down, longing to stare into his cerulean eyes as he worked you to the brink, but your bulging stomach prevented that.

The feeling of contempt towards your stomach left as quick as it came, however, when his lips wrapped around your clit and sucked harshly. “Oh my god,” you choked out, gripping onto his hands like a vice. As he worked at your core, you dropped lower and lower on your knees so he didn’t have to crane his neck to lap at the sweet nectar flowing from you.

His tongue slowly skimmed down your core, parting your folds so he could reach your entrance. When he found it, his tongue immediately slithered inside while his nose ground against your clit. One of your hands let go of his and flew forward to the headboard, gripping tightly to steady yourself. “Does that feel good, baby?”

You nodded fervently and gasped for air. “Feels so good.” You felt Duncan’s smile against your core before he returned to his previous actions, his tongue gliding in and out of you as his nose bumped against your clit. His actions sped up when you grew more vocal, ‘please Duncan’s and ‘fuck’s mixed in with wanton moans and cries ripping from your throat. His free hand rose up and rested on your stomach, fingers softly tracing imaginary patterns on your skin as he brought you closer and closer to your orgasm. “I-I...”

As if he could read your mind, he moved his hand to your core and quickly pumped two fingers into your tight heat. “Are you close?”

“Yes, fuck.” Your eyes fluttered shut as you finally reached your tipping point, cumming with a tight and strangled moan. Your hands flew forward and gripped the headboard, whimpers flowing freely from your lips as he worked you through your orgasm.

“You’re so beautiful, so perfect.” His fingers gently slipped out of your wet heat with a squelching sound that made his cock twitch. His lips still circled your clit, his tongue laving at the bundle of nerves.

Once you were able to catch your breath, you lifted your hips from his face and slowly crawled down his body until you were eye-level with him. His hands gripped your hips and pushed you down onto your back, switching positions so he hovered above you with his legs straddling your waist.

He was a sight to behold, the bottom half of his face glimmering with your release and his lips red and swollen from suckling on your folds and clit.

With a smirk, you sat up and swiped your tongue over his stubbled cheek, licking up the mixture of your wetness and his sweat that lingered on his skin. A harsh groan bubbled in his chest at your actions, hands tightly gripping into your hips. “Such a naughty girl,” he mused, turning his head so he could press his damp lips against yours. “Don’t you taste so good, baby?”

You nodded softly and pushed his shirt off his shoulders, revealing the prominent bulging veins that adorned his toned arms. His lips slowly trailed down from your lips to your neck, then to your chest. “Duncan,” you whined, carding your fingers through his brunette locks.

“Hmm?” He looked up at you with hooded lids, his lips gliding over to your right breast and taking your nipple into his mouths, immediately sucking with fervor. The fingers of his left hand gently rolled your other nipple between his fingertips, earning a throaty moan from you.

“Duncan, please. I-I need...”

“What do you need? Gotta use your words, babe.” His hand left your breast so he could trace his fingertips along your very inner thigh, inching achingly closer to your core.

“I...” You sucked in a breath and gulped. “I need you to fuck me. Please, baby.”

“Of course, babe.” He sat up and took your legs in his big hands, spreading them slightly so he could nestle himself between them. The tip of his length bumped against your core, prompting a small gasp from both of you. “Are you...” He stopped himself with a look that mirrored pain on his face.

“What?”

He sighed and shook his head. “Nothing.”

You squinted at him before a sly smile cracked across your face. “Were you... Were you gonna ask me if I was on birth control?”

The tips of his ears flushed pink. “No...” He trailed off.

You let out a laugh. “Did-Did you forget that I was four months pregnant?”

“Shut up! I was being considerate, okay!”

You covered your mouth with your hand to try and stop your giggles. “You’re right, I’m sorry. You’re sweet.” You extended your arms to try and pull him into a hug, but he dodged away.

“Stop it. Maybe I just won’t fuck you.”

“No, baby, please!” You grabbed his hands and pulled him close to you. “I’m sorry, baby. You were being sweet and I love you. And it’s such a confidence booster that I’m not big enough for you to remember that I’m pregnant even though I feel ginormous. Come on, baby.”

He cracked, letting out a chuckle and pressing his lips to your cheek. “Alright, fine.” he sat back up and pulled his hands from yours so he could caress your thighs.

“Now fuck me, baby.”

He grinned and nodded, lining himself up with your entrance and slowly sheathing himself inside of you. The two of you let out a synchronized moan, basking in the feeling for a moment before he began to thrust in and out of you.

You could tell that he was holding back, his jaw clenched tightly and his eyes screwed shut as he laboriously slid in and out of you. You felt bruises forming under his hands, and that brought a new gush of wetness to flow between your thighs. “Dunc,” you voiced, bordering between a whisper and a moan.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he mumbled in response, harshly jerking his hips once before going back to his brutally slow pace.

“Baby, you can go faster.”

“Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me.” You gripped onto his shoulders and tightened your legs around his waist, defying his grip.

He nodded, a few strands of hair falling in his face as he slowly picked up the pace, each thrust hitting deeper and deeper inside of you. Grunts reverberated in his throat and mingled with your moans as he fucked you. “God, I love you so much.”

“Love you too, Dunc.” You threw your head back after a particularly rough thrust, nestling deeper into the pillows. your back arched up a moment later, though, when his thumb began to rub tight circles on your clit. His other hand rested on your swollen belly, throwing his head back as he neared his orgasm.

“Fuck!” His hips stuttered as he grew closer and closer. “You feel amazing, baby. Goddammit, I’m so close.” His hand circled your belly, his touch feather-light. “Fuck, I can’t wait to see you so full of my baby next. As soon as you have this one, I’m filling you up with another.”

“Duncan-”

“God, seeing you pregnant with my baby sounds like a dream.” His hips stuttered one last time before he shot his load inside of you, shuddering as he pumped you full of him.

His orgasm pushed you off the edge of your own orgasm, all the air leaving your lungs as flashes of white exploded behind your eyelids. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped divots in his skin.

He slipped out of you and knelt on the ground, watching as his cum dribbled out of your entrance and down onto the bedsheets. “So gorgeous, baby.” His middle and ring fingers glided along your soaked heat, gathering your mingled release onto his fingertips. He pushed himself back to his feet and crawled up on the bed, bringing his coated fingers to your lips.

Your tongue immediately darted out and lapped at his fingers, your hand grabbing his wrist and putting his two fingers inside your warm mouth. You suckled on his fingers and let out a low moan, smiling around his fingers at the taste. A small whine fell from your lips when he withdrew his fingers, but hummed in satisfaction when he pressed his lips against yours.

He sat up and got out of the bed, heading into the bathroom. “I didn’t hurt you, right?” he asked as he wet a washcloth.

He headed back into the bedroom as you shook your. “Not at all. You were perfect, baby.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear that.” He gently cleaned between your thighs with the washcloth, tossing it near the bathroom afterwards. He crawled back up on the bed and laid down next to you, draping an arm over your waist. His eyes stared into yours, fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes on your skin as he became lost in your gaze. “I’m sorry.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “Why? What for?”

“I-I shouldn’t have said all that stuff. About getting you pregnant. It was just a heat of the moment thing, I was in my head and wasn’t thinking about what I was saying-”

“Duncan, it’s okay.” You ran your fingers through his hair, brushing it back to the immaculateness that it was before. “I kinda liked it, honestly. Makes me feel good when you think I’m beautiful when I’m pregnant.”

“You’re always beautiful, Y/N. Don’t ever forget that.”

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letthesparkleshine · 6 years ago

Text

You remembered.

Part 4 everybody! 😊

Words: around 4k

Group: BTS

Members: Jungkook and Taehyung X you (yeah I definitely lied)

Part 1 * Part 2 * Part 3

‘‘Jin?? Really Y/N, Jin? You slept with Jin?? What is the matter with you??’‘ Miri was going off, boy was she being loud.

‘‘Please keep it down, I don’t know what to do, help me! If I go out the guys will see me and I can’t do that, Tae and I broke up like literally yesterday. But I don’t want to face Jin for crying out loud it’s Jin! Oh my god I have issues’‘ you rambled on and on.

‘‘Yeah Y/N I agree, you really do have issues. Out of 7 of them you slept with Jin, the one who was hitting on half of your family at the picnic last year and how could you do that to Kookie?’‘ asked Miri. You didn’t quite understand how this would affect him, of course he’s your friend and he cares about you as you do about him but still.

‘‘What do you mean, it’s Jungkook, out of all people he is the one who will probably understand, he’s my friend.’‘ you said.

‘‘Yeah you’re right, he’s just your friend.’‘ said Miri sounding a bit different then her usual voice.

As you were about to say something you heard a noise coming from the other side of the room where the bed is.

‘‘Shit Mira! I think Jin is waking up, fuck fuck fuck what do I do?’‘ you ask becoming very panicked with every second passing.

‘’Is there a window? Can you jump?’‘ said Miri.

‘‘Yeah sure. It’s only 5th floor I probbly won’t die.’‘ you said sarcastically.

‘‘Oh trust me sweetie with what had just happened, you would have probably been better off dead.’‘

You really didnt have a lot of time left, Jin was slowly yet obviously waking up.

‘‘Well I’m dead meat, see you on the other side Miri’‘ and with that sentence you hung up the phone.

Jin was at this point very much awake and as he was stretching he saw you. He looked at you, saw your half naked body, then he looked at himself and saw his naked body, and then he screamed.

‘‘Holy shit Jin can you keep it down please.’‘ you said trying to shush him immediately.

‘‘We had sex Y/N.’‘ said Jin a bit too loudly.

‘‘Oh my god just stop please, I never thought I would hear these words coming from your mouth. How did this happen? Do you remember anything from last night because honestly I don’t?’‘

‘‘Of course I remember. Bartender called me to come pick you up because you were too drunk-’‘ you cut him off.

‘‘Wait he called you? I thought he was calling the cab for me?’‘

‘‘Well not really he called me, I mean he actually called Jungkook because he was the last person you talked to on the phone but I picked up because he was taking a shower. So the bartender told me that you were so drunk you could barely stand on your feet. And I- I just went to get you. Believe it or not I was worried about you.’‘

You were feeling very weird when you heard those words. It was Jin whom you were talking to, it was hard taking him seriously.

‘‘Anyway we were driving towards your apartment but you didnt want to go home, you wanted me to take you to Taehyung’s. I of course didn’t agree but you had your way of convincing me.’‘

‘‘Oh please don’t tell me that I bribed you with sex.’‘ you cut him off.’‘

You made Jin laugh a little. He continued speaking: ‘’No not really, you just told me that if I take you to our dorm, you would make me a cake, and I never say no to a cake.’’

You laughed. Even though it was probably the most awkward situation possible with the most awkward person ever, you still felt kind of relaxed in his company.

‘‘So I took you to our dorm but I kind of hid you.’‘ his words confused you for a moment.

‘’What do you mean you hid me?’’ you asked.

‘‘Well I didn’t want you to see Taehyung since he was on a date with Hana. So I took you to my room and tried to sober you up. I still wanted you to be friends with us and that means you had to be friends with Taehyung as well. But you were so drunk Y/N you barely talked to me you looked like you were about to pass out. So I went to the kitchen to get you some water to try to sober you up and when I came back you kind of jumped on me.’‘

‘‘Oh lord, no.’‘ you said not wanting to remember what Jin had just said.

‘‘Oh lord, yes. And at first I tried to take you off of me, well as much as I could-’‘

‘‘Jin stop! Please. I can’t listen to this anymore.’‘ you tried to stop him from speaking. You were so embarrassed.

‘‘No it was good I mean you were really good if you know what I mean-’‘

‘‘Jin please, just stop, I cant even look at you.’‘ as you said those words you turned around, you couldn’t face him anymore.

Jin got up from his bed and walked towards you. He turned you around and held you very closely. Your noses were almost touching and you were confused af.

‘‘Y/N I know that I shouldn’t have done what I had done yesterday, I did try to stop you but I should have done it as many times as it would have taken for you to stop trying. But in all honesty, I was always attracted to you and yesterday that attraction took over me.’‘

Now you were more confused as ever. You stepped away from Jin trying to collect your thoughts. After a minute or two you said: ‘’Okay Jin I don’t think this is the right thing I mean, I like you, as a friend but I just... Oh this is so confusing. I can’t date anyone at this moment, especially not you, I hope you understand that.’’

‘‘I do Y/N, I hope we can return back to as we used to be after this. I also like having you as a friend.’‘

You smiled kindly at his words. You did the most stupid thing you could do yesterday, but at least it was with someone you knew and not a complete stranger.

‘‘Okay then friend, turn around because I need to get dressed and in the meantime try to find a solution for me to leave this dorm without anyone noticing. The last thing I need right now is facing the others, especially Taehyung and Jungkook, oh my god, Kookie mustn’t see us, he would be so disappointed in me if he found out.’‘

As you mentioned Jungkook, Jin froze for a moment. His face expression suddenly changed and he went to get dressed. After quickly putting on his sweatpants he left his room to give you some privacy so you could change.

He returned after a couple of minutes and you were already fully clothed.

‘‘Okay so good news, the guys have gone out to have lunch.’‘ he said.

‘‘That’s great now I can just leave. I should get going before anyone sees me.’‘ you said.

‘‘Yeah you should.’‘ said Jin.

‘‘Okay well then, let’s see if we agree. This never happened and we’re still friends. Agree?’‘ you asked.

‘‘I agree. Oh and also, you owe me a cake..’‘

He made you laugh yet again.

‘‘Fine you’ll get your cake. I’m going to go now. Oh, and by the way, thank you for taking care of me last night. In a way.’‘

Jin had to laugh at your attempt of trying to thank him from saving you last night but trying to avoid the sex talk. You were so adorable.

‘‘You’re very welcome.’‘ And as Jin said that you left.

Once you left Jin took a moment to process what had just happened. He laid on his bed trying to think through what he had just done. ‘’Okay Jin. It only happened once. You had sex, it was one-time thing and now it’s over. Jungkook likes her, you could never do anything like that to him. It was a one-time thing, Jungkook likes her.’’ He kept repeating those last two sentences over and over again just so they would stick with him. After 10 minutes had passed, he went to the kitchen to get himself a drink. On his way he passed the living room. He saw Namjoon sitting in the corner on little a sofa hidden behind a book.

‘‘Oh Namjoon you’re here, I- I didn’t see you before when I went to the bathroom.’‘ said Jin with a very shaky voice.

‘‘You mean you didn’t see me before when you were checking out if any of us have returned so Y/N could leave without getting caught?’’

Namjoon wasn’t stupid and Jin knew that. He instantly caught onto him. Jin didn’t know what to say. He opened his mouth, but no words were coming out.

‘‘How could you do that to Taehyung? He just broke up with her. No! How could you do that to our Jungkook. you know that he is in love with her. How could you Jin??’‘

Joon’s words strike through Jin’s body. He did a terrible thing to two of his best friends. He knew if they ever found out all hell would break loose.

‘‘I know it was stupid of me and I feel terrible now. But she is single, and it was only a one-time thing. We agreed we would never talk about it again.’‘ Jin tried to defend himself.

‘‘It better be a one-time thing. Or you’ll break Jungkook’s heart.’‘

Again, Joon’s words strike Jin deeply. He felt very guilty. And he was also very disappointed in himself because Namjoon had yelled at him. He felt just terrible.

Just as Jin and Namjoon were speaking the others have returned making an end to their conversation.

‘‘Oh, Jin you’re up? I thought you pulled an all-nighter and we didn’t want to wake you up. You should have joined us on the lunch.’‘ said Yoongi.

‘‘Oh yeah, I did have an all-nighter, I was actually training. But I woke up early because I was hungry.’‘ Said Jin very nervously.

It was a good thing. Guys didn’t suspect anything so he kind of got away with it. Everybody was making a small talk except Jungkook. He wasn’t participating in the discussion, instead he was on his phone, checking out very nervously if he had gotten any new notifications.

‘‘Guys I’m going to head out, I’ll see you later at practice.’‘ said Kookie.

‘‘Where are you going Kook?’‘ asked Namjoon.

‘‘Oh I just need to check out a few things.’‘ he answered.

As Jungkook was about to leave Jin went after him.

‘‘Where are you actually going Jungkook?’‘ asked Jin.

‘‘Yeah I really want to know too. Do you have like a secret girlfriend?’‘ a very curious Hoseok joined Jin and Jungkook.

‘In all honesty guys I’m going to go check on Y/N.’‘ said Kookie.

‘‘Okay boy we know you love her but you seriously should give her some time.’‘ said Hoseok.

Jin was very quiet, he felt awful.

‘‘No it’s not because of that it’s just- My phone shows that Y/N called me last night at 12 AM but I don’t remember talking to her. And since she won’t answer my calls, I decided to visit her, see her in person. I really need to know, did she actually call me or she didn’t.’‘ explained Kookie.

Jin froze when he heard Kook’s words ‘’How could I forget to delete the data’’ he thought to himself.

‘‘She actually called you?’‘ asked Hoseok. ‘‘Show me.’‘

Jungkook showed his recent phone calls section and it answered Hoseok’s question.

‘‘Well I guess you should visit her then. It’s a solid reason to.’‘ said Hoseok.

Jin knew that he had to come up quickly with an excuse or things could have ended up pretty badly.

‘‘I don’t think you should visit her though, maybe she just made a mistake and wanted to call somebody else.’‘ said Jin.

‘‘But it says that we were talking for like 3 minutes. It makes no sense really.’‘

‘’Well fuck’’ thought Jin to himself.

‘‘Yeah I agree with Kookie, he should definitely visit her, I mean he deserves an explanation.’’ said Hoseok and Jin agreed with hm. He really did deserve it so Jin said: ‘‘Okay I owe you an explanation.’‘

Jungkook and Hoseok were both surprised at Jin’s words.

‘‘I answered that call while you were taking a shower.’‘ the duo was more astounded by Jin’s words this time.

‘‘What? Really? Why didn’t you tell me anything?’‘ Jungkook started bombarding Jin with questions. He wanted to get answers.

‘‘A guy from the club she went to yesterday called to go pick her up because she was drunk.’‘

At this point Jungkook’s and Hoseok’s face expression changed drastically. Kookie seemed genuinely worried while Hoseok had a slight smirk on his face.

‘‘I never thought of Y/N as the type of girl who goes clubbing the same day she breaks up with her boyfriend. You let go a real catch Taehyung,’‘ said Hoseok to himself but it was clear enough that Jin and Jungkook heard him.

‘‘Not funny Hoseok. And why didn’t you tell me? What the hell Jin she called me I should have gone to her not you.’‘ said Kookie with a little bit of sadness in his voice but he was very obviously angry.

‘‘First of all, Jungkook she didn’t call you, a guy who was kind enough to take care of a drunk girl called you from her phone. She had no idea what was happening. And second thing is that she was very glad that you didn’t show up.’‘ as Jin said those words Jungkook became angrier. Tension was rising in the air.

‘‘I’m sorry Jungkook but it’s the truth, she cares about you and if you had gone, she would be very disappointed in herself. She told me that herself. She truly does care for your opinion.’‘ finished Jin.

‘‘But still, it was my phone. And why didn’t you tell me? If I hadn’t called Yoongi this morning I wouldn’t have seen it.’‘ said Kookie.

‘‘In all honesty Jungkook I was going to delete that phone call from your phone but you beat me to it.’‘ as Jin said that Both Hoseok and Jungkook went into shocked mode.

‘‘I know it’s very rude, but she really didn’t want you to find out. She cares about you and your opinion more than you think.’‘ said Jin ‘’You know that I’m right. She cares about you and that is why you fell in love with her. If you want her you need to give her some space. She’ll come to you eventually if it was meant to be.’’ Jin really tried to explain himself the best he could without letting Kookie go to you. He would do anything to stop him from finding out the truth.

‘‘I’ll listen to you for now. But still, next time you answer my phone you tell me. Especially it it’s about Y/N.’‘ said Kookie very firmly.

‘‘Oh look at our young one trying to act all tough isn’t he cute?’‘ said Hoseok making the whole atmosphere feel a little less tense.

It seemed like it worked. Jungkook didn’t go to you in search for answers, which means he wouldn’t find out the truth. And no matter how much Jin was hurt for lying to Kookie, he was glad that he didn’t find out the truth.

It has been two months since you and Taehyung broke up. Your heart was becoming slowly at peace. Sure, it still hurt a lot but with every day passing things got just a little bit better. You haven’t heard from the guys this whole time and you were feeling a little bit guilty, especially towards Kookie since he was your Kookie, he always has been. It was time to call him.

‘‘I cannot believe it! Is this real life? Did Y/N just call me? Is it possible that I’m dreaming?’’ Jungkook was obviously playing dumb. You missed him and his jokes.

‘‘Well believe it baby!!’‘ you yelled back surprising him.

‘‘Oh my god are you being kidnapped? Did something happen to you?’‘ sensing his sarcasm you answered with a smile on your face: ‘‘In all seriousness now Jungkook, how are you?’‘

‘‘How am I? I don’t know good I guess. I’ve been waiting for your call Y/N. I was worried about you. How are you?’‘ asked Kookie. You could even feel the worry in his voice.

‘‘I’m sorry but you know that I needed some time for me. I had to work through some things alone, but I’m a little bit better now. Let’s get some coffee when you have free time.’’ you said and Jungkook very enthusiastically answered: ’‘I’m free now, I’ll meet you at White cafe in half an hour.’’

As your phone call ended you got ready very quickly, left your apartment and headed towards the cafe. On your way you thought about Jungkook and you thought about V. At a certain moment even Jin appeared in your mind. You hadn’t seen him ever since that night and you didn’t know how to face him. But that was a situation you would deal with when the time comes.

While thinking about all of those things you already reached the destination without even realizing. You went inside the cafe and saw Jungkook sitting in your usual spot. You called him and he turned around. There he was a boy so close to you and so important to you. You were truly very happy to see him after two weeks.

He got up and hugged you. It was one of those hugs where he doesn’t let go for a solid 5 minutes and people start to stare. They think that either of you is dying or that he’s maybe leaving for army. It’s always one of those two.

You gently push him away while taking a seat next to him. He was so beautiful. You didn’t know why but at that moment, long dreaded moment after not seeing him for two months, he was beautiful to you. Yes, he was always good looking, but this time it was different. You took his hand and held it for a moment.

‘‘Y/N are you okay? Did something happen?’‘ asked Jungkook.

‘‘No I’m okay I just missed you-’‘ you said ‘‘-and stop being so worried about me all the time, I promise you I’m fine, How are things back at the dorm?’‘

Jungkook was a little hurt by your words.

‘‘You know, if you wanted to know how Taehyung was doing you could have just asked.’‘

‘‘No it’s not that, Okay yes I still care for him but I genuinely care about the others too. How is the new album coming up?’‘ you asked.

Jungkook could sense your careness, he always liked that about you. You cared for other people.

‘‘They’re fine, the album is coming along nicely too, we’re just having a little trouble with choreography. Other than that things are great.’‘ said Jungkook and you gave him a very kind smile.

‘‘And to answer your initial question, Taehyung is fine. Things are a little bit weird since you guys broke up, that I must confess, but overall he seems cool.’‘ said Kook

‘‘What do you mean weird? In what way?’‘ you were still very interested in Taehyung’s life and that made Jungkook very sad. All he could think about was you and all you could think about was Taehyung. His mood changed and he became a bit awkward. He took his hand away from yours and answered: ‘‘It’s just different and that makes it weird. We were used to seeing you at least once a week but now you’re just not there anymore. That’s weird.’’

As Kookie finished speaking, you hugged him.

You guys spent together a lovely evening talking pretty much about everything. Two hours passed by so quickly, you lost sense of time completely. It was nice spending time like this with Jungkook again, he really took your mind from Taehyung. As you were speaking, he happened to mention Jin. Oh Jin. You haven’t heard from him ever since that night you guys slept together. Sometimes he would pop in your mind and as soon as you remembered what had happened between you two, you tried to shrug it off. You were thankful that none of them found out the truth or you would definitely never see them again. It would be just too much to handle.

‘‘So what do you think about that?’‘ asked Jungkook looking all hopeful and wanting to get an answer from you which he would like. His eyes became twice his normal size. That’s how nervous he was while waiting for you to answer.

You kind of dozed out ignoring Kookie for a moment. You had no idea what he had just asked you, but you decided to play along not wanting to hurt his feelings.

‘‘I think it’s a great idea?’‘ Your voice did not agree with the words coming out of your mouth..

‘‘Wait really? I thought it was too soon but great! Oh Y/N I’m so happy that you’re not giving up on us!’’ Jungkook was very excited for some reason which was still unknown to you. But he was so happy, you couldn’t just hurt him like that. It has been two months since you guys saw each other.

‘‘Oh yeah, I mean why would I give up on us at a first place?’‘ you tried to answer in the most safe way ever.

‘‘Well your break up is still kind of fresh but you agreed you would come to our dorm to hang out like we used to. That is so great Y/N. I’m so excited, the guys will probably be too when I tell them.’‘ and as Kookie said that everything made sense. You screwed up. You didn’t want to go there. How could he think that you’re ready, ‘’What is the matter with him. No Y/N what is the matter with you, why don’t you ever listen to people’’ you thought to yourself.

But it was too late now, you couldn’t say no, he would be very disappointed if you changed your mind. You excused yourself saying that you have to go to the bathroom and left him alone for a moment. You needed to think a little bit. There was no way you could go there, for starters, Tae’s new sponge girlfriend is probably going to be there and you definitely didn’t want to meet her. And Jin, how can you ever face him since that night. No there was no way you could go. You decided to lie to Kookie, yes, he’d be sad for a moment or two but there was simply just no other way.

You returned to your table. As you were about to tell Kookie that you couldn’t come he cut you off.

‘‘I have to go Y/N or I’m going to be late to practice. But I’m very excited about our Thursday night, I’ll see you in couple days.’‘ and with that said he hugged you and hurried off to his practice.

You stood there in cafe thinking about what is probably going to happen on Thursday:

‘’I’m going to hang out with my oldest best friend and his other friends. One of them happens to be my ex-boyfriend who left me for another girl, and she is probably going to be there too and with the other one I happened to have sex with.’’

‘‘Yep, that’s going to end well for you Y/N.’‘

#bts #bts taehyung #bts jungkook #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts v #bts jin #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop fluff

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emospritelet · 7 years ago

Text

Empty Corridors - Chapter 27

Last time, Lacey admitted that she and Gold were dating, which was a big step for her. And she made him a birthday cake. Here’s what happened next.

AO3 link

The bedclothes shifted, Lacey’’s head bursting out of the blankets, her cheeks flushed, and she pushed herself up on her elbows with a grin.

“Well,” she said. “Guess a happy birthday was had by all.”

Gold sighed contentedly, arching his back a little and folding his arms behind his head.

“I’m full,” he remarked. “I think you weren’t kidding when you called that cake Death by Frosting.”

“You ate three pieces!” she chided, swatting his shoulder. “You didn’t have to make yourself sick just to prove it wasn’t terrible.”

“It was delicious!” he protested. “A little too delicious, if you must know. My waistline may never be the same again.”

Lacey giggled, and he kissed her before pushing up on his elbows.

“Did you have a good birthday?” she asked, and he smiled.

“I had the best birthday.”

“Good.”

She bent to kiss him, and he turned them, pushing her down into the blankets, his mouth hot and soft and sweet, his body firm against hers, and she wanted to freeze time, to lie there sheltered from the world, wrapped in his arms and breathing him in and pretending they could stay that way forever.

Gold broke the kiss, pulling up a little, his hair brushing her cheeks. Lacey reached up to touch it, winding strands around her fingers and pushing it back. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest, heavy and full with his love for her, and his breath caught in his throat as she flicked her eyes up to meet his.

“Will you stay tonight?” she whispered.

God, I’d stay forever. I’d stay forever if you’d let me.

“I’d like that,” he said.

Christmas passed quickly for Lacey in a blur of light and sound, good food and nights spent lying in Gold’s arms, a contented, tipsy mess. After some surprise among the townsfolk at the pawnbroker dating his young assistant, and some snide comments whispered behind hands, they had ceased to be a topic of gossip amongst everyone except the worst of the Rabbit Hole crowd. She had not spoken to her father since the night of the street party, and although she bought him a Christmas present, dropped onto the counter of the flower shop while he was serving a customer, she was still angry with him. He didn’t give her a present, and didn’t thank her for his, and so she hadn’t been back to the shop.

After some consideration, she had decided that it couldn’t hurt to apply to college, and so she had talked over the options with Gold, eventually applying to colleges in Boston and New York. Gold had suggested others, too, further away, but she didn’t want to move too far. She told him that she was planning to return in the holidays, as he had suggested, and that if he wanted to get rid of her entirely, he would need to try harder. He had grinned at that, a ghost of a smile, and told her he was pleased to hear it. She tried to manage her expectations by telling herself that she didn’t expect to be successful, but if she was completely honest there was a tiny spark deep within, the first faint glow of self-belief. Besides, applying had shut him up.

She put in applications for funding at the same time, surprised at the amount of financial aid available. It appeared that some colleges were willing to offer generous packages to eligible students, and as she definitely couldn’t afford to pay for it herself, it was a no-brainer. She told herself she didn’t expect to be successful in that, either. It was therefore something of a surprise when she received responses from three of the colleges, asking her to attend for an interview.

“What the hell am I supposed to do about this?” she demanded, waving the letters at Gold and making him blink. “I can’t go to a bloody interview?”

“Why not?”

“Because…” She paced back and forth rapidly. “Because they’ll take one look at me and say ‘no bloody way’, that’s why!”

“Of course they won’t,” he said soothingly. “But if you’re concerned about that, I can buy you a new outfit.”

Lacey considered it for a moment, and then shook her head.

“No,” she said decidedly. “If they can’t accept me as I am, fuck them!”

“Well, quite,” he said. “In that case, I don’t know why you’re worried.”

“Because I’ll - I’ll probably swear or - or make an idiot of myself!”

“I’m sure they’ve heard curse words before,” he said dryly. “They deal with students facing important deadlines, after all.”

“Gold…”

He sighed and laid his cane across the top of the counter, putting his hands on her shoulders and fixing her with a calm stare.

“Lacey,” he said gently. “You can do this. They wouldn’t ask you to go if they weren’t interested in having you study there.”

“I guess…”

“I believe in you,” he went on. “I have every faith that you will impress them, and they’ll make you an offer.”

“If they don’t offer me funding at the same time, I’m still screwed.”

“Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” he said. “In the meantime, why don’t you start thinking about what questions they might ask you?”

“Like which of the Bennet sisters is my favourite and if I were a bloody tree, what kind would I be?”

Gold looked as though he was trying to hold in his amusement with some difficulty.

“I think they may be more interested in what you want to study and why you want to study with them, but we can’t rule out a curve ball.”

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this…”

“You’ll be amazing,” he said firmly, and kissed her forehead. “Now, let’s talk logistics. You need to get to New York University, Columbia, and Boston University. I could drive you down to New York, and—”

“No,” she said, before he could finish, and Gold pushed back, reaching for his cane to steady himself.

“No?”

“I want to do it myself,” she said, not sure if he would understand. “I - I have to do it myself, does that make sense?”

“Not to me,” he said, and shrugged. “But I suppose it doesn’t have to. How will you get there, then?”

“I’ll take the bus,” she said. “I can book accommodation in New York for a couple of nights, do the interviews, and then take the bus to Boston.”

“Then I guess you’ll be wanting to take some leave,” he said, with a tiny grin, and she took a deep breath.

“Not only that,” she said. “I - I need to ask you a favour…”

“You got Gold to look after the cats?” Ruby snickered, reaching for her Cosmopolitan. “What if they crap on his antique chaise longue or whatever the hell he has?”

“He’s not taking them to the house,” said Lacey, taking a slurp of her Mojito. “He’s having them in the shop. I’m gonna take the cat tree over there so they have plenty of stuff to play with. He spends most of his time there anyway, so they can just hang out in the back room.”

“Why didn’t you just give him the keys to your place?” asked Leroy, wiping beer foam from his beard.

“Because I don’t want them being on their own all day,” she said. “It was bad enough when I had to work every hour. They need some company, the little buggers. Besides, they like him. Severus sits on his lap more often than he does mine.”

“Probably recognises a fellow Slytherin,” said Ruby, and squeaked as Lacey shoved her.

“Oh come on, Gold’s a Ravenclaw,” she said. “Or possibly a Hufflepuff, I haven’t decided.”

“Ravenclaw, definitely,” agreed Ruby.

“I have no idea what you two are talking about,” grumbled Leroy, and Lacey waved a hand.

“Never mind about that, anyway,” she said. “You guys are supposed to be helping me not freak out about these interviews. What if the interviewers are jerks? It says on the letters that they’ll be members of the faculty, so that means they could be teaching me.”

“Picture ‘em naked,” said Ruby, with a shrug.

“Doesn’t help, Rubes.”

“Okay, so picture yourself naked.”

Lacey shoved her again, and Ruby giggled into her glass.

“Look, just remember why you applied,” said Leroy, setting down his beer glass. “You got a kickass score on that test, right?”

“Yeah, but I’m like four years older than the other students,” she said.

“Exactly,” he said patiently. “You’ve done stuff with your life. You have experience, and a work ethic. You helped set up those businesses, did a lot for the community...”

“That’s true,” put in Ruby. “You can describe it like an urban regeneration kind of thing.”

“We’re in Storybrooke,” said Lacey flatly.

“Okay, so maybe not urban, but you still regenerated that part of town.”

“That was Gold, not me.”

“It was Gold’s money,” said Ruby patiently. “It was your idea.”

“I guess.” Lacey took a drink. “I guess we’ll have to see what they ask me.”

“You’ll be fine,” said Ruby. “Sure you don’t want me to come with you? The two of us, in New York City? Could be fun, that’s all I’m saying.”

Lacey hesitated, tempted by the offer, but knowing she had something else to do while she was there, and unsure whether she wanted to divulge it at this stage.

“No,” she said eventually. “I need to concentrate on this, get it out of the way. If I get accepted and decide to go, you guys are more than welcome to come and stay.”

“Can’t say fairer than that,” said Ruby, and took a slurp of her drink. “So, what does Gold say about it? He pleased?”

“Can’t wait to get rid of me, it seems,” said Lacey dryly. “He even offered to drive me down there.”

“He wants you to do well,” said Leroy. “It’s not like he’s trying to run you out of town.”

Lacey wriggled in her seat.

“It was his idea in the first place, not mine,” she said.

“Oh my God…” Ruby rolled her eyes. “Have you two nerds not admitted you’re fucking head over heels yet? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“We only just started dating last month!” protested Lacey.

“Officially, maybe,” said Leroy. “We all know you’ve been seeing each other way longer. And we all know you’re in love with him, so stop being an ass and just tell him, before I do.”

“Don’t you dare!” snapped Lacey, and he sighed, burying his nose in his beer.

“Seriously, Lace, this is getting ridiculous,” said Ruby flatly. “We know you love him. We know he loves you, so what’s the problem?”

“He’s never told me that,” she said defensively.

“Yeah, and you’ve never told him either,” said Leroy. “Doesn’t make it any less true.”

“Just tell him, for the love of God,” sighed Ruby, and Lacey leaned on the table, palms pressed flat.

“Okay, so let’s say I tell him,” she said. “And - and let’s say he doesn’t feel the same way? Or - or he tells me that I’m leaving in September for college, and he doesn’t see it working out? I can’t do that, you guys! I can’t just pull out my heart and lay it before him and let it be crushed!”

“I just don’t think he’d do that,” said Leroy, and she said back with a sigh.

“Yeah, well, I’m not taking the risk,” she said. “Things have been good. Better than good. I don’t want to rock the boat.”

“Things would be even better with mutual declarations of love,” said Ruby. “Proposals of marriage, discussion of future happiness and babies…”

“Ruby…”

“Fine,” sighed Ruby. “Just promise me you’ll think about it. His response might surprise you.”

“Just - just let me concentrate on one thing at a time,” said Lacey, picking up her drink. “I’m too busy panicking about these bloody interviews to think about my love life.”

Leroy and Ruby shared another look, and she took a long drink before setting down her glass.

“Now,” she said. “Ask me why I want to study business.”

The bell above the shop tinkled, and Gold walked through from the back room, raising a brow as he saw Lacey carry a large cardboard box inside. Plaintive mews were coming from it.

“Here comes trouble,” he remarked.

“This should keep ‘em out of your hair,” said Ruby, who pushed through the doorway with one end of the cat tree in her hands. The other end was being carried by Leroy, who stumbled over the threshold and frowned at it.

“In the back room,” said Gold, holding the curtain back.

The cat tree was placed in one corner, and Lacey set down the box before straightening up and brushing her hair out of her face.

“Thanks for doing this,” she said. “I think it would be good for them to have some company.”

“As long as they don’t eat anything they shouldn’t, I’m sure we’ll be fine,” he remarked.

“I’ll get the litter box and the food,” announced Ruby, and ducked out again.

There was a scrabbling noise from the box, and a black and white head poked out as Hagrid took a look around. Lacey was chewing her lip anxiously, and Gold reached out to touch her, cupping her cheek with a hand.

“They’ll be fine,” he said gently. “And you - you’ll be amazing. i can feel it.”

She sent him a wobbly smile, and then stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him. It felt nice to be hugged, and he held her close, kissing the top of her head as it nestled against his chest. Ruby sauntered in with the litter box, setting it down in a corner and putting the bag of dried food on the workbench with their bowls.

“Thanks, Rubes,” said Lacey.

“No problem. Your bus leaves in like ten minutes, by the way.”

“I’m ready, I just need to grab my bag.”

“Will you call me when you get there?” asked Gold.

“I will,” she promised, and pulled back to look up at him. “I’ll call when I get to the hotel, okay?”

He kissed her, and she melted into him a little, her hands sliding up his shoulders and into his hair.

“Quit face-sucking or you’ll miss your bus,” called Ruby, and Lacey pulled back with a sigh.

“Bye,” she whispered, and he watched her go, still tasting her on his lips.

The kittens had all climbed out of the box and were sniffing their way along the floor, tails twitching. Gold grounded his cane, flexing his fingers, and they watched him curiously.

“Right,” he said sternly, glancing between three sets of green eyes. “Let me tell you how this is going to work. You are to stay in this room and play with your things, understand? You are not to pass the curtain and play with my things.”

The cats put their heads to the side, watching him.

“You are to use the litter box in the corner,” he added. “If I find any presents left anywhere else there will be consequences.”

Minerva reached out to paw his shoelace, and Gold rolled his eyes.

“Just - don’t eat the merchandise,” he said. “And try not to get under my feet.”

The kittens were surprisingly well-behaved, only knocking a few things off the shelves and mostly keeping to the back room. Gold found that he enjoyed having them around, although they took an interest in whatever he was doing, so he found it difficult to clean the mechanism of an old clock without one or more of the cats wanting to touch it with a paw. After an hour or so of getting in the way, Severus curled up on his lap and promptly went to sleep, and he could carry on with his cleaning in peace. Until the shop’s bell rang, announcing a visitor.

When he saw who it was, he wished he had pretended to be out. Miss Green sauntered towards him with a predatory grin on her face that made him want to sigh, and dropped her bag by the counter before leaning on it with folded arms.

“May I help you?” he asked, in his most neutral tone.

“I heard your assistant was out of town for a few days,” she said. “So, I thought I’d come and keep you company.”

“Company is something I rarely seek,” he said. “If there’s anything you need to speak to me about on a professional basis, I’m all ears. Otherwise, I’m rather busy this afternoon.”

“Actually, there was something,” she said. “I’ve seen someone hanging around the farm on occasion. A tall man, dark hair. Wears rather unconventional clothes. Seems to disappear whenever I go to confront him.”

“And this concerns me how?”

There was movement in the corner of his eye, and he spotted Minerva, poking her head into Zelena’s open bag. He supposed he should really do something about that.

“I thought you knew everything that goes on in this town,” she said. “I need his name.”

“Then I suggest you ask him.”

“I would, if I could pin him down.”

Minerva had climbed into the bag and was wriggling around. He spied another of the kittens sneaking past, and wanted to sigh.

“Well, I’m afraid your description is rather too vague for me to identify him,” he said. “Perhaps next time you see him, you could take a picture?”

Zelena’s mouth flattened.

“Thanks for the lack of help,” she said dryly.

“I’m not in the business of tracking people down,” he said. “I suggest you speak to the sheriff if you’re concerned about this man.”

A scent entered his nose, unpleasant and familiar, and he wondered if he dared to look down. Zelena’s nose twitched.

“What on earth is that smell?”

“Ah,” he said. “I’m looking after my girlfriend’s kittens. It smells as though one of them has used the litter box.”

She pushed back with a curl of her lip.

“I’m allergic to cats.”

“Well, there are three of them here. Perhaps you should leave before you get hives, or something.”

Her eyes widened suddenly. She let out a shriek, kicking out with a foot, and Severus was launched across the room. Minerva jumped out of the bag to run after him, and Gold hurried to pick him up, scowling at Zelena.

“How much of a terrible person do you have to be to kick a bloody kitten?”

“That fucking thing bit me!” she shouted, and he petted Severus, who climbed up to his shoulder and hissed at Zelena.

“Well, you must have startled him,” said Gold. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

She glared at him, snatching up her bag.

“I can see I’m not welcome here,” she said. “I’ll just drive back to the farm and—”

Her eyes bulged as she reached into the bag, and Gold felt a smile steal across his face. Zelena drew out her hand, the fingers covered in something dark brown and stinking.

“Well, what do you know?” he said cheerfully. “It seems they haven’t quite gotten the hang of the litter box after all.”

Zelena let out a blood-curdling shriek and ran from the shop, and Gold began chuckling as the bell tinkled to signal her exit. He scratched Severus under the chin, making the kitten purr contentedly.

“I can’t wait to tell your mother about this.”

Lacey decided that she liked New York, even though its busy streets were somewhat alarming after the peace of Storybrooke. The hotel room she was staying in was little more than a box room with an en-suite, but it was clean, and she managed to find her way to the two universities without too much trouble. She wasn’t sure how the interviews had gone, but given that the professors at Columbia had spent most of their time trying to look down her shirt, she wasn’t sure she wanted to study there anyway. Her bus to Boston was due to leave at four, which left her time to carry out another mission. One that she had been planning since she first showed an interest in New York as a potential college destination.

She turned onto the street she needed, old brownstones on either side, and counted the numbers in her head until she reached Tallahassee Building. Hesitating, she checked the address again before trotting up the steps and pushing open the door. An ancient elevator took her up to the third floor, and she made her way along a dimly-lit corridor to apartment 307. Lacey hesitated again, but raised her fist and knocked on the door. There was a moment of silence, but then a scuffling noise and the rattle of a chain. The door opened, and a young man of around thirty looked out, running a hand through dark hair. He had a handsome face, with deep brown eyes that looked all too familiar, and Lacey pursed her lips. Found you.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m guessing you’re Bailey Gold, right?”

#golden lace #golden lace fic #rumbelle #rumbelle fic #fic: empty corridors #my fic

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queercapwriting · 7 years ago

Text

Swept Away in You

A continuation of my series Way Down (We Go), here -- http://archiveofourown.org/works/9154834?view_full_work=true -- fucking finally. And don’t worry, they’re endgame. But I wanted a slow burn on the show, for Alex to date other people first, so you know. Here’s me, being evil. Sorry not sorry.

When she first saw her in the bar, she’d thought that maybe they could talk. Until she noticed Alex’s arm, draped around the shoulder of some gorgeous brunette.

Some gorgeous brunette who was laughing and leaning into her, hand on her thigh.

Maggie’s fingers twitched and her stomach lurched, until a gentle but somehow firm hand took hers and steered her away.

“Maggie,” M’gann’s voice was soft, warning. Understanding.

“I’m fine,” Maggie deadpanned with no feeling that masked every feeling in the book.

Of course she found someone else. She’s Alex fucking Danvers.

Of course this woman will make her happier than you ever could.

Couldn’t she have found her own damn bar, though?

No. It’s not just your bar. She has every right to be here.

She looks happy. She deserves to be happy.

Fuck.

“Mags. I’m nearly four hundred years old, I think I can read you better than -- “

“M’gann. I’m fine. I’m... I’m happy she’s happy, is all. And I need a drink. Please.”

M’gann sighed and nodded slowly, her eyes squinted in compassion, before she started walking away. Maggie reached out to take her arm, the same way M’gann had taken hers.

“Hey. I’m sorry. For being a jerk. You were trying to protect me. I appreciate it, M’gann. Thank you.”

M’gann just placed her hand on Maggie’s and squeezed softly. Maggie followed her to the bar and leaned over the counter, all elbows and bowed head.

Don’t look over at her.

Don’t.

Don’t torture yourself.

You should look, though. Hell, you deserve a little torture. Leading her on and dumping her like that? And how patronizing is ‘I care about you so I can’t be with you’ anyway?

God, she looks beautiful.

“Hey, it’s M’gann, right? Two more beers please,” a voice jolted her out of her own head.

A voice that belonged to the gorgeous brunette Alex had just had her arm around.

“Anything I can get you, soldier?” the woman asked then, and Maggie hadn’t wanted to disappear this badly since college.

“What makes you say soldier?” she objected, her body stiffening, straightening. She was slightly taller than the other woman, but only just. She used every inch she could.

“Sorry, I... I’m JAG Corps, I just... the way you hold yourself, the gun in your waistband, I assumed -- “

“I’m a detective,” Maggie interrupted the woman.

Of course she’s dating a soldier now. A lawyer soldier.

Smarter than you, definitely.

Sexier, for sure.

Higher ranked, probably.

Less of a jerk, she’d better be, or it won’t matter she’s a soldier, I’ll kick her ass. Not that Alex needs my protection.

Or anything from me.

Not after what I did to her.

“A detective,” the woman was saying approvingly, thanking M’gann as she handed her the beers with slightly wide eyes, flitting back and forth between the woman, Maggie, and someone approaching the bar.

Maggie’s stomach plummeted.

Fuck.

“Lane, did you ask M’gann to ferment the drinks from scratch or -- oh. Hi. Maggie.”

She said it like the name broke her heart, and that? That, along with the look on Alex’s face and the healthy amount of cleavage showing from her tight shirt, broke Maggie’s.

“Maggie? I -- oh,” this Lane woman’s eyes flew wide, and now M’gann was intentionally finding wet spots on the counter to dry over and over and over.

“Danvers, it’s been a minute,” Maggie found her voice somehow. Without losing her dignity, somehow. “How are you?”

Something dark flickered past Alex’s eyes at the question. The woman she was with put a hand on her arm, and she steadied somewhat.

Maggie’s heart broke. Again.

“My mother would tell me I have no manners. Maggie Sawyer, this is Lucy Lane. She’s my -- “

“We’ve worked a few cases together,” Lucy interrupted, holding a hand out for Maggie to shake. It was much smoother, softer, than Maggie’s.

Less calloused.

But firm nonetheless.

“Well uh... you two look like you’re having a great date night, so I’ll uh... I’ll leave you to it.”

She slapped a twenty on the counter for the drink she hadn’t touched and started to leave before giving Alex or Lucy a chance to say a word.

She heard Alex calling her name.

She pretended she didn’t.

She hadn’t cried in public since high school. She wasn’t planning to start again now.

Until a hand touched her arm, just as she was heading out into the alley. But it wasn’t M’gann’s.

It was Alex’s.

“Maggie,” she said again, more insistently, more pleading, now that they were standing so close together: close enough for Maggie’s knees to threaten buckling, close enough to smell the lavender and the motorcycle exhaust on the woman who could have been her girlfriend by now.

“Danvers, listen, you made it clear you didn’t wanna hear from me. And I get it. I do. I don’t mean to assume that you still have any feelings whatsoever about me, or what happened a few weeks ago, but either way, I don’t wanna disturb your date -- “

“Oh, so you think I’m, what, suddenly magically over you? That all the...” Alex fumbled for words, and Maggie’s heart quaked. She stole a glance at Alex’s lips, and she knew Alex was thinking about the same kiss she was. “That everything that happened with us didn’t mean anything?”

“Well, you’re dating this gorgeous JAG Corps -- “

“Lucy’s one of my best friends, Maggie. One of my only friends. This isn’t a date, we... that’s not the point. You think past relationships don’t hurt you anymore just because you start dating someone new? Because apparently your last relationship made you decide to dump me -- “

“I never wanted to hurt you, Alex.”

“Right, so hurt me sooner rather than later?”

“Yeah. It’s less painful that way,” Maggie nearly whispered, suddenly exhausted.

Suddenly aware that Alex’s hand was still on her arm.

Alex blinked and released her arm. Maggie’s stomach swooped like the entire world was slipping out from under her feet.

“Look. There was some truth to what you said. About me being so... new to all this. So maybe... maybe you’re right. Maybe I can get... less new at it. And in the meantime, maybe we can try to be friends?”

Friends, so I can watch you go through woman after woman.

Friends, so I can watch you find someone you actually want to be with, and not just because they’re your coming out crush.

Friends, so I can help you through the pains other women will put you through.

Friends, so I can only admit that I want you so damn badly when I’m alone in my bed at night.

“Sure, Danvers. Friends. That mean you’re gonna actually answer my texts now?”

Alex blushed, and Maggie resisted kissing her.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. But are you sure? About this friends thing?”

Alex nodded, her face set with determination and an emotion Maggie couldn’t quite identify.

“Pool. Tomorrow night.”

Maggie swallowed the lump in her throat.

Swallowed the screaming in her head and the shattering in her heart.

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

Alex smiled softly before nodding and walking away, and Maggie tried not to watch the way her body moved, the way her boots clicked slightly on the floor, the way her hands clenched and unclenched once, twice, as she walked back to the woman she said was just a friend.

Just like Maggie.

Fuck.

TBC

#way down (we go)#sanvers #sanvers slow burn #sanvers fic #sanvers minific

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dfroza · 5 years ago

Text

A sign of Spring rain in the heart of Winter

and of a seed of rebirth in words first written down, to be... a promise by which to have faith, to acquire a treasured hope, to “believe...”

which is what we as children of Light must keep alive by guarding the heart from the delusions of this world, to protect the seed of things to come, and this includes a new body that is eternal in its True nature.

and we read of such a restoration in Today’s chapter in the ancient writing of Zechariah with chapter 10:

[God’s Work of Rebuilding]

Pray to God for rain—it’s time for the spring rain—

to God, the rainmaker,

Spring thunderstorm maker,

maker of grain and barley.

“Store-bought gods babble gibberish.

Religious experts spout rubbish.

They pontificate hot air.

Their prescriptions are nothing but smoke.

And so the people wander like lost sheep,

poor lost sheep without a shepherd.

I’m furious with the so-called shepherds.

They’re worse than billy goats, and I’ll treat them like goats.”

God-of-the-Angel-Armies will step in

and take care of his flock, the people of Judah.

He’ll revive their spirits,

make them proud to be on God’s side.

God will use them in his work of rebuilding,

use them as foundations and pillars,

Use them as tools and instruments,

use them to oversee his work.

They’ll be a workforce to be proud of, working as one,

their heads held high, striding through swamps and mud,

Courageous and vigorous because God is with them,

undeterred by the world’s thugs.

“I’ll put muscle in the people of Judah;

I’ll save the people of Joseph.

I know their pain and will make them good as new.

They’ll get a fresh start, as if nothing had ever happened.

And why? Because I am their very own God,

I’ll do what needs to be done for them.

The people of Ephraim will be famous,

their lives brimming with joy.

Their children will get in on it, too—

oh, let them feel blessed by God!

I’ll whistle and they’ll all come running.

I’ve set them free—oh, how they’ll flourish!

Even though I scattered them to the far corners of earth,

they’ll remember me in the faraway places.

They’ll keep the story alive in their children,

and they will come back.

I’ll bring them back from the Egyptian west

and round them up from the Assyrian east.

I’ll bring them back to sweet Gilead,

back to leafy Lebanon.

Every square foot of land

will be marked by homecoming.

They’ll sail through troubled seas, brush aside brash ocean waves.

Roaring rivers will turn to a trickle.

Gaudy Assyria will be stripped bare,

bully Egypt exposed as a fraud.

But my people—oh, I’ll make them strong, God-strong!

and they’ll live my way.” God says so!

The Book of Zechariah, Chapter 10 (The Message)

and these lines of the same chapter mirrored in The Voice that reflects the importance of spiritual truth to defeat the nature of a lie, which is the real enemy of beautiful earth:

For household gods speak nothing but tricks,

diviners see deceptions, dreamers tell lies,

And all offer useless comfort.

And so, the people wander without purpose,

Suffering like sheep because they have no shepherd.

Eternal One: My anger burns against these imitation shepherds,

and I will bring punishment to those goats.

The Eternal, Commander of heavenly armies,

brings caring to His flock, the people of Judah,

And will make them like His brave royal steed, arrayed for battle.

The people of Judah will supply the leadership:

the stable cornerstone, the secure tent peg, the powerful battle bow.

Every commander will come from there.

Together they will be like a formidable force of champions in battle,

trampling the enemy in the muck and mire of the roads.

They will fight on because the Eternal fights with them;

they will bring shame and defeat to riders on horseback.

The Book of Zechariah, Chapter 10:2-5 (The Voice)

and Today’s reading paired with this as a chapter read from each Testament of the Bible is chapter 23 of the book of Acts in which resurrection is mentioned, as well as a letter written:

[Before the High Council]

Paul surveyed the members of the council with a steady gaze, and then said his piece: “Friends, I’ve lived with a clear conscience before God all my life, up to this very moment.” That set the Chief Priest Ananias off. He ordered his aides to slap Paul in the face. Paul shot back, “God will slap you down! What a fake you are! You sit there and judge me by the Law and then break the Law by ordering me slapped around!”

The aides were scandalized: “How dare you talk to God’s Chief Priest like that!”

Paul acted surprised. “How was I to know he was Chief Priest? He doesn’t act like a Chief Priest. You’re right, the Scripture does say, ‘Don’t speak abusively to a ruler of the people.’ Sorry.”

Paul, knowing some of the council was made up of Sadducees and others of Pharisees and how they hated each other, decided to exploit their antagonism: “Friends, I am a stalwart Pharisee from a long line of Pharisees. It’s because of my Pharisee convictions—the hope and resurrection of the dead—that I’ve been hauled into this court.”

The moment he said this, the council split right down the middle, Pharisees and Sadducees going at each other in heated argument. Sadducees have nothing to do with a resurrection or angels or even a spirit. If they can’t see it, they don’t believe it. Pharisees believe it all. And so a huge and noisy quarrel broke out. Then some of the religion scholars on the Pharisee side shouted down the others: “We don’t find anything wrong with this man! And what if a spirit has spoken to him? Or maybe an angel? What if it turns out we’re fighting against God?”

That was fuel on the fire. The quarrel flamed up and became so violent the captain was afraid they would tear Paul apart, limb from limb. He ordered the soldiers to get him out of there and escort him back to the safety of the barracks.

[A Plot Against Paul]

That night the Master appeared to Paul: “It’s going to be all right. Everything is going to turn out for the best. You’ve been a good witness for me here in Jerusalem. Now you’re going to be my witness in Rome!”

Next day the Jews worked up a plot against Paul. They took a solemn oath that they would neither eat nor drink until they had killed him. Over forty of them ritually bound themselves to this murder pact and presented themselves to the high priests and religious leaders. “We’ve bound ourselves by a solemn oath to eat nothing until we have killed Paul. But we need your help. Send a request from the council to the captain to bring Paul back so that you can investigate the charges in more detail. We’ll do the rest. Before he gets anywhere near you, we’ll have killed him. You won’t be involved.”

Paul’s nephew, his sister’s son, overheard them plotting the ambush. He went immediately to the barracks and told Paul. Paul called over one of the centurions and said, “Take this young man to the captain. He has something important to tell him.”

The centurion brought him to the captain and said, “The prisoner Paul asked me to bring this young man to you. He said he has something urgent to tell you.”

The captain took him by the arm and led him aside privately. “What is it? What do you have to tell me?”

Paul’s nephew said, “The Jews have worked up a plot against Paul. They’re going to ask you to bring Paul to the council first thing in the morning on the pretext that they want to investigate the charges against him in more detail. But it’s a trick to get him out of your safekeeping so they can murder him. Right now there are more than forty men lying in ambush for him. They’ve all taken a vow to neither eat nor drink until they’ve killed him. The ambush is set—all they’re waiting for is for you to send him over.”

The captain dismissed the nephew with a warning: “Don’t breathe a word of this to a soul.”

The captain called up two centurions. “Get two hundred soldiers ready to go immediately to Caesarea. Also seventy cavalry and two hundred light infantry. I want them ready to march by nine o’clock tonight. And you’ll need a couple of mules for Paul and his gear. We’re going to present this man safe and sound to Governor Felix.”

Then he wrote this letter:

From Claudius Lysias, to the Most Honorable Governor Felix:

Greetings!

I rescued this man from a Jewish mob. They had seized him and were about to kill him when I learned that he was a Roman citizen. So I sent in my soldiers. Wanting to know what he had done wrong, I had him brought before their council. It turned out to be a squabble turned vicious over some of their religious differences, but nothing remotely criminal.

The next thing I knew, they had cooked up a plot to murder him. I decided that for his own safety I’d better get him out of here in a hurry. So I’m sending him to you. I’m informing his accusers that he’s now under your jurisdiction.

The soldiers, following orders, took Paul that same night to safety in Antipatris. In the morning the soldiers returned to their barracks in Jerusalem, sending Paul on to Caesarea under guard of the cavalry. The cavalry entered Caesarea and handed Paul and the letter over to the governor.

After reading the letter, the governor asked Paul what province he came from and was told “Cilicia.” Then he said, “I’ll take up your case when your accusers show up.” He ordered him locked up for the meantime in King Herod’s official quarters.

The Book of Acts, Chapter 23 (The Message)

and to accompany this, the reading of Psalm 30 for the 30th day of Winter along with Proverbs 19 for the 19th of january:

[Psalm 30]

A David Psalm

I give you all the credit, God—

you got me out of that mess,

you didn’t let my foes gloat.

God, my God, I yelled for help

and you put me together.

God, you pulled me out of the grave,

gave me another chance at life

when I was down-and-out.

All you saints! Sing your hearts out to God!

Thank him to his face!

He gets angry once in a while, but across

a lifetime there is only love.

The nights of crying your eyes out

give way to days of laughter.

When things were going great

I crowed, “I’ve got it made.

I’m God’s favorite.

He made me king of the mountain.”

Then you looked the other way

and I fell to pieces.

I called out to you, God;

I laid my case before you:

“Can you sell me for a profit when I’m dead?

auction me off at a cemetery yard sale?

When I’m ‘dust to dust’ my songs

and stories of you won’t sell.

So listen! and be kind!

Help me out of this!”

You did it: you changed wild lament

into whirling dance;

You ripped off my black mourning band

and decked me with wildflowers.

I’m about to burst with song;

I can’t keep quiet about you.

God, my God,

I can’t thank you enough.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 30 (The Message)

[Proverbs 19]

It’s better to be honest, even if it leads to poverty,

than to live as a dishonest fool.

The best way to live is with revelation-knowledge,

for without it, you’ll grow impatient and run right into error.

There are some people who ruin their own lives

and then blame it all on God.

Being wealthy means having lots of “friends,”

but the poor can’t keep the ones they have.

Perjury won’t go unpunished,

and liars will get all that they deserve.

Everyone wants to be close to the rich and famous,

but a generous person has all the friends he wants!

When a man is poor, even his family has no use for him.

How much more will his “friends” avoid him—

for though he begs for help, they won’t respond.

Do yourself a favor and love wisdom.

Learn all you can,

then watch your life flourish and prosper!

Tell lies and you’re going to get caught,

and the habitual liar is doomed.

It doesn’t seem right when you see a fool

living in the lap of luxury

or a prideful servant ruling over princes.

A wise person demonstrates patience,

for mercy means holding your tongue.

When you are insulted,

be quick to forgive and forget it,

for you are virtuous when you overlook an offense.

The rage of a king is like the roar of a lion,

but his sweet favor is like a gentle, refreshing rain.

A rebellious son breaks a father’s heart,

and a nagging wife can drive you crazy!

You can inherit houses and land from your parents,

but a good wife only comes as a gracious gift from God!

Go ahead—be lazy and passive.

But you’ll go hungry if you live that way.

Honor God’s holy instructions

and life will go well for you.

But if you despise his ways and choose your own plans,

you will die.

Every time you give to the poor you make a loan to the Lord.

Don’t worry—you’ll be repaid in full for all the good you’ve done.

Don’t be afraid to discipline your children

while they’re still young enough to learn.

Don’t indulge your children or be swayed by their protests.

A hot-tempered man has to pay the price for his anger.

If you bail him out once,

you’ll do it a dozen times.

Listen well to wise counsel

and be willing to learn from correction

so that by the end of your life

you’ll be known for your wisdom.

A person may have many ideas concerning God’s plan for his life,

but only the designs of his purpose will succeed in the end.

A man is charming when he displays tender mercies to others.

And a lover of God who is poor and promises nothing

is better than a rich liar who never keeps his promises.

When you live a life of abandoned love,

surrendered before the awe of God,

here’s what you’ll experience:

Abundant life. Continual protection.

And complete satisfaction!

There are some people who pretend they’re hurt—

deadbeats who won’t even work to feed themselves.

If you punish the insolent who don’t know any better,

they will learn not to mock.

But if you correct a wise man,

he will grow even wiser.

Children who mistreat their parents

are an embarrassment to their family and a public disgrace.

So listen, my child.

Don’t reject correction

or you will certainly wander from the ways of truth.

A corrupt witness makes a mockery of justice,

for the wicked never play by the rules.

Judgment is waiting for those who mock the truth,

and foolish living invites a beating.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 19 (The Passion Translation)

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historyrepeatsitself-phff · 8 years ago

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Chapter Seventy-Four Part-One

A/N: You need to read the last chapter before this one and you may have missed it as I updated on Friday, so you can read that here. As this chapter is in parts, I’ll post the next part tomorrow, as technically it’s still one chapter. I mean, I swear the posting rule is out the window now anyway, so just enjoy!! 💖

In other news, here we go. 😉

“Ooooooow!”

Emmy squeezed Harry’s hand as tightly as she squeezed her eyes shut, riding the pain that tore through her abdomen. She’d only had a handful of contractions so far, and she knew from the books that the pain was only going to get worse. That thought wasn’t filling her with confidence.

“Okay, here we go,” Rick said, slowing the car into an unloading bay round the back of the hospital.

“They know we’re here,” Kev added from the passenger seat, finally hanging up the phone. “Mary is inside waiting for you right now.”

“Okay,” Harry said, then turned to Emmy, not letting go of her hand. Her blue eyes were wide with fear and nerves, and she held onto him as though her life depended on it. “You ready to get out the car?”

“Don’t let go of me,” she blurted, terrified.

“I won’t, slide across the seat and get out my door,” he said, jumping out and gently pulling her across the back seat after him. She paused with her feet dangling out the door, and puffed air up onto her face.

“You’re going to have to help me,” she said, struggling to push herself to her feet.

He chuckled. “Come on.” He snaked an arm round her body, pulling her out of the car. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go, quickly,” he said, hurrying towards the hospital, his arm still around her, tugging her after him. She ran as fast as she could before someone could spot them. She prayed to God that no one would take a picture of her in the state that she was in.

Kev led the way into the lobby, but there was no need. Mary was stood there, a wheelchair at the ready.

“Your royal highnesses,” she said, bowing her head slightly. Emmy sank into the chair before she could finish talking.

“Thanks,” Harry said to Mary, slightly breathless. “Sorry, bit puffed out. We rushed over here.”

“Don’t worry, just take some deep breaths,” Mary said, throwing him a smile. Then she turned her attention to Emmy. “Emmy, you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, just freaking out,” she said, as Mary began to wheel her out into one of the corridors. Harry hurried after them, and insisted on pushing his wife, letting Mary lead the way.

“Try and remain calm, I know it’s hard,” Mary said gently. “So, your waters have broke, yes?”

“Yeah, just before we left. I had a contraction before it, and then they broke, and I’ve had a few more since then,” Emmy explained, as they filed into the lift, Kev squeezing in with them.

“Good, sounds like you’re still at the early stages, so there’s absolutely nothing to stress about,” Mary said. “I’ll show you to your room, let you get changed and comfortable, and then I’ll come and check how dilated you are.”

The lift doors opened and Harry pushed Emmy out into the corridor. A few yards down, a woman screaming could be heard. The sound was muffled by the closed doors, but it sent a shiver through Emmy. Her heart picked up speed, and she gripped the arms of the wheelchair until her knuckles were white.

“Here you are,” Mary said, showing them to their private room. “This will be your room for the next day or so. Of course, when you’re ready to give birth we’ll take you to the delivery room. Your gown is folded on the bed there.” She smiled at Kev, then. “There’s a room for visits just at the end of the corridor, I suppose that’s best for you?”

“Yes, thank you,” he said, nodding. He looked over at Emmy and Harry. “I’ll just leave your bag here for you.”

“Yeah, thanks Kev,” Harry said, throwing a smile at the PO.

Mary and Kev left, Mary promising to return in five minutes and see where Emmy was at, and Harry and Emmy were alone in their room. They looked at each other, both looking mildly terrified.

“I can’t believe it’s happening,” Emmy said.

“Me neither,” he agreed. “Those last ten minutes were…” He laughed, almost deliriously. “I don’t know what happened.”

“I know, stressful or what?”

“If you didn’t want to eat my cooking you should’ve just said,” he teased lightly.

She laughed, then looked horrified. “Oh shit, did you turn off the stove?”

“Yes-”

“Are you sure?!”

“Emmy, calm down,” he said, moving to crouch in front of her. He opened his mouth to speak but Emmy interrupted, gasping out in pain and clutching onto the arms of the wheelchair with both hands. “Shit.”

Emmy breathed heavily and rapidly through an open mouth, her face contorted as she endured the contraction. Then she let her head fall back, sighing. “Ow.”

Harry actually laughed at her single word. “I think ‘ow’ is an understatement.”

“Certainly is,” she said, then reached for his arms and pulled herself to her feet. He tensed, supporting her, until she was stood in front of him. “Help me change?”

“Of course,” he said, helping her pull her top over her head, and then dealing with her leggings himself. She removed her underwear, still wet from her waters breaking, and then pulled the hospital gown on. He smirked. “Sexy.”

“Piss off,” she said, a smile playing at her lips as she blushed. She pushed herself up onto the bed and laid back, sighing at the comfort. “I just want her out of me now.”

“Give it time, she’ll be out in no time,” he said, smiling and perching on the edge of the mattress. He tipped his head on one side and watched her as her blue eyes took in the room.

“It’s quite big,” she mused, reaching for his hand and entwining their fingers absently. “Bigger than I expected.”

“Hmm,” he said. “I wonder if we have a good view.” He got up and moved over to the window, twitching the curtain aside. “Oh fuck!” He jumped out of the way.

She raised an eyebrow, too tired to freak out. “What is it?”

“They gave us a room facing South Wharf Road!” he said. “All the photographers are out there!”

Emmy had bigger problems. “Oh well, just stay away from the window.”

“I should go ask for a different room,” he murmured. “We don’t need someone seeing us looking out.”

“Harry, just drop it,” she snapped, then groaned as another contraction started. This one didn’t last very long, and she rode it out by grabbing a fistful of her hospital gown. Just as it ended, Mary knocked.

“Okay, let’s have a look at how dilated you are,” she said gently, and Emmy moved so that Mary could feel between her legs. Harry came and stood by Emmy’s head, not wanting to see anything, and he anxiously met Mary’s eyes as Mary emerged, smiling.

“You’re still only 2 centimeters gone,” she said. “You’ve got plenty of time to settle in and prepare yourself.”

“Ugh!” Emmy moaned, her head falling back. “You mean it’s going to be ages, right?!”

“Not necessarily, we won’t know until you dilate a bit more,” Mary said. “I’ll be back in in about ten minutes to see how we’re doing. Feel free to make yourselves at home in the meantime. If there’s anything you would like – food, drinks – please do phone down to room service.”

Emmy watched her leave. “Bet there’s no room service on the NHS,” she said, frowning.

“Do you want anything?”

“No,” she said, laying her head back down on the pillow. “You can get something if you want.”

“Maybe later,” he said. “We’re paying enough for this room, we may as well take advantage of it.”

She half-smiled, but then her face fell. “Harry, I’m scared.”

He looked back at her, at her beautiful face that was full of fear, and his heart broke. He reached for her hands, taking them in his and giving them a squeeze. “Oh, darling, don’t be afraid. This is the most natural thing on Earth, and just think. We’ll have a little baby at the end of it.”

She nodded, taking a deep breath. “Can you kiss me, please?” she asked, knowing it would be too much hassle for her to sit up herself.

Harry broke into a smile, and leant over, embracing her lips with his own and gently teasing them apart with his tongue. And then, without warning, she bit down, her teeth piercing his tongue, as a contraction tore through her.

“Argh!” he hissed, pulling away and holding his mouth. Emmy was holding her bump, panting again, eyes squeezed tightly shut. A few moments passed, and then she relaxed, looking up at him. Her eyes widened innocently.

“What happened?”

“You bit my tongue!” he said, poking it out. “Is it bleeding?”

“No,” she said, then rolled her eyes. “Sorry, does that hurt?!”

He noticed the bitterness in her tone and cleverly changed the subject. “I better tell people. You know, William, Taylor, our families. Let them know that it’s happening.”

“Don’t leave,” Emmy said instantly.

“I won’t, baby,” he said, leaning over to kiss her forehead. “I’m gonna sit down in the lovely armchair-” He sighed with content as he collapsed into the comfy chair. “-and phone them.”

She watched him pull his phone out of his pocket. “Is that chair worth the 5000 pound cost of this hospital?”

“Nope, but it will be when I order room service,” he said, throwing her a cheeky grin. “Oh shit, I forgot there was wifi here too. Don’t have that on the NHS, either.”

Emmy rolled her eyes, laying on her back and staring at the ceiling. “Who are you going to call first?”

“Probably Ed, see where him and Claire are. I know Rick said he was going to phone them once he’d parked the Rover.” Harry tapped on his phone, then held it up to his ear. He felt slightly relieved that Mary had said they had ages until the birth – it meant he had time to relax and mentally prepare himself for this. It stopped the panic and the stress. He had time to call everyone and tell them, not to have to announce it without even letting William know.

“Hello?”

“Oh, hi, Ed,” Harry said.

“Harry, how is everything? How’s Emmy?”

“It’s fine, she’s fine,” he answered. “Only 2 centimeters, so apparently we’ve got quite a while.”

“Phew, Claire and I are nearly there,” Edward said. “We’re just passing Lancaster Gate.”

“Okay, have you told anyone?”

“No, I thought I’d leave that to you,” he said. “Anyway, I’ll see you in a minute.”

“Bye, Ed.” Harry hung up and turned to Emmy, who was watching him. She’d had another contraction during the phone call, and her hand remained draped through Harry’s after she’d squeezed it, trying to relieve her pain. “They’re nearly here.”

“Oh good.”

“I better call William now,” he said, dialing his brother’s number. “You okay?” he asked her, brushing a strand of hair off her face.

“Mm-hmm,” she said, pressing her cheek into his palm. “But can you let William tell your father?”

He smirked. “Want me all to yourself?”

Emmy rolled her eyes. “Don’t ruin it.”

Harry was chuckling when William answered the phone. “Harry?”

“Hi, Wills.”

“Hi, you alright?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to let you know – Emmy’s gone into labour.”

“What?! Oh shit, that’s amazing! Oh wow, congratulations! It’s about time, eh?”

“You could say that,” Harry laughed. “We’re only about 2 centimeters right now, still got ages to go.”

“Oh, good luck. Tell her to breathe from me,” he said, the grin evident in his voice. “We’ll come and see you when the little one’s here.”

“I’ll call you as soon as we know anything new,” Harry said.

“I’m proud of you, Harry.”

He felt a lump grow in his throat, and he hastily swallowed it. “Thanks, William. Could you do me a favour? Could you tell Pa? And get Pa to tell Emmy’s family? We want them to know, but I don’t have the time to tell everyone-” He reached over and took Emmy’s hand just as another contraction started.

William heard her gasping down the phone. “Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, just another contraction,” Harry said. “Will you do that?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll text you when they know so that you can, you know, announce it.”

“Oh shit, yeah.” Harry had totally forgotten that an announcement to the press and the public was on the cards, too. “Can you hurry? I have a feeling Edward will want to talk about that as soon as he gets here.”

“Sure, I’ll call them straight away.”

Emmy was having another contraction when Harry finally hung up and he scooted towards her, kneeling down by the edge of the bed and gently stroking her hair once she’d collapsed back onto the pillows.

“They’re getting worse,” she complained.

“It just means that she’s getting ready to join us,” he said softly, trying to soothe her. There was a knock on the door.

“Hello, how we doing?” Mary asked, coming in and smiling at Emmy.

“The contractions are hurting more,” Emmy said.

“Ooh, good, that’s perfectly normal,” Mary said, finding her place once more between Emmy’s legs. Harry instinctively moved towards Emmy’s head again. “Okay, we’re moving along nice and steadily. That’s three centimetres now.”

“Three?!” Emmy quoted, disbelieving. “Is that it?!”

“Afraid so,” Mary said. “Maybe put a DVD on? It’ll make the time pass quicker.”

Emmy stared up at her, almost disgusted by the suggestion. Mary, used to the angry wrath of pregnant women, turned to Harry. “Your secretaries have just arrived. Shall I send them in?”

“Please,” Harry said, trying to be as polite as possible to make up for Emmy’s glare. As soon as Mary left, Emmy tutted.

“Watch a DVD? Does she think I’ll be able to focus on a film with a human trying to force its way out of my vagina?!” she snapped irritably.

Harry chuckled, taking his seat once more. He didn’t want to say anything to upset her, but now the thought of watching some sport on the TV seemed quite nice.

Another knock on the door. Claire peered her head round.

“Hello, Mummy and Daddy,” she sang, dancing into the room followed by Edward.

“Not yet,” Harry said, grinning.

“Not anytime soon,” Emmy grumbled, scowling.

The two secretaries stopped at Emmy’s tone, eyebrows raising, and Harry waved them off. “We’re getting a little impatient, only three centimeters gone.”

“Oh, why do you want to rush it?” Claire said, beaming at Emmy in an attempt to soften the duchess up. “It obviously means she just doesn’t want to leave you, you’ve made such a nice home.”

“Yeah, it’s nice being inside of you,” Harry quipped, smirking.

Emmy tried to be angry at that, but his words tugged the corners of her mouth up. She looked at Claire. “Is everything okay at home?”

“Yep, I went in and checked and you did turn the stove off,” she said, looking at Harry. “Whatever you were cooking smelt lovely. Unfortunately, I had to bin anything left over.”

Harry sighed theatrically. “All that hard work, gone to waste.”

Edward laughed lightly, taking the other seat in the room. “The press have no idea you’re here. We’ve been monitoring Twitter, no one’s said a thing. But we need to announce something soon.”

“William’s phoning Pa, and Pa’s going to tell Alexander and Granny,” Harry explained. “Now you guys are here I’m going to go and call Skippy and Taylor, let them know. And then we can announce something.”

He got to his feet as he spoke, wiping his hands on his thighs, and Emmy whimpered slightly, reaching for him.

“Don’t leave me,” she said, her voice rising an octave in panic. Her blue eyes were wide with fear.

“Baby, I’ll be right outside,” he said gently, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “Claire and Edward will take care of you. I’ll only be gone five minutes, you just shout if you need me.”

He slipped from the room, Emmy’s eyes on him as he went. Then she turned to Claire, who broke into an excited smile.

“This is exciting, isn’t it?” the secretary said. “She’s finally coming.”

Emmy smiled at that, but before she could enjoy the thought another contraction had engulfed her. She tensed her entire body, gripping onto the covers of the bed and biting down on her lip to stop herself from crying out. As the waves of pain subsided, she hurriedly puffed air in and out of her mouth. When she opened her eyes, Claire was watching sadly.

“I remember how horrid it was,” she said. “Just think of the little baby at the end of it.”

Emmy nodded slowly, her breathing still heavy.

“Okay, I suppose we should discuss the announcement,” Edward said, looking at Claire, his fingers ready to start typing on his tablet. “Just the generic? I think it’s safest.”

“What’s the generic?” Emmy asked weakly.

“The Duchess of Clarence has been admitted to St Mary’s Hospital in the early stages of labour. She arrived at the hospital around six o’clock this evening. The Duke of Clarence is with her.”

She shrugged. “Says everything we need it to say.”

“Exactly,” Edward said, smiling, evidently glad that it had not taken very long. “I’ll just run it past Harry when he comes back.”

“Will you tweet it from Kensington Palace?” Emmy said. She didn’t really care, but she wanted something to take her mind off the ordeal ahead of her.

“I’ll send it to Grant, who’ll tweet it from the KP twitter, yes,” he said, tapping away again. At that moment, Harry returned, and Emmy’s face lit up with relief. She instantly reached for him with both hands, and he moved into her hold, perching on the bed with her, snaking his arms round her as she cuddled into him.

“Harry, we have the announcement ready,” Edward said, then he read it out. “Does everyone who needs to know, know?”

“I phoned Skippy, and he text me to say he phoned Jake and Guy, so they know,” he said. “I told Taylor and Chris was there, so she told him. And William text me to let me know that Pa, Alexander and Granny and Grandpa all know. So go for it.”

They watched as Edward sent the e-mail to Grant, and then Harry went to stand by the window. He could peer down at the street full of photographers without moving the curtain and without being seen, and he examined them all, waiting for the moment when the Tweet would come through to see their reactions.

“Careful they don’t see you,” Emmy said, and then she gasped out loud. “These fucking contractions!” she hissed, scrunching up to ride out the pain.

“They’re getting closer together,” Harry observed.

“They hurt so much,” Emmy said. “Like someone is squeezing my uterus in their fist.”

He pretended like he knew what that even remotely felt like, taking her hand and letting her crush his in her grip. Finally, the contraction ended and Emmy sat back, panting. “Ugh.”

And then there was some sounds of commotion outside, some raised voices, some cheering from close by, and then some louder, more excited cheering from further away. All four of them looked round, and Harry broke into a grin. “Sounds like the announcement’s been released,” he said, turning to Emmy and smiling excitedly.

She smiled too, the sounds of the cheers outside lifting her spirits. Everyone was so excited for this baby, the entire country spurring her on. She reached down and stroked her bump gently.

“Anytime now, darling,” she murmured. “Any time now.”

#historyrepeatsitself-phff #prince harry #prince harry fanfic #prince harry fanfiction

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firstumcschenectady · 6 years ago

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“Find Joy” based on Isaiah 66:10-14 and Psalm 66:-19

Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning.

- Psalm 30:5b

I have a fondness for … um... expressive language ;), and that fondness was significantly stronger when I was in college. However, in April during every year of college I cleaned up my language to pristine levels. I did it so that when I got to camp, I would not accidentally speak a word that would harm, or offend, or get repeated by any of our campers with special needs. We were also careful then, as we are now, not to offer too many hugs or to permit any loosening of manners – not to allow anything at camp that would cause potential harm in the real world.

I did this because I loved our campers, and I wanted them to be safe, secure, and at ease both at camp and in the world.

During my second year of seminary I started an internship with an urban church, one that was doing important ministry with people who were homeless. People who are homeless are more likely to be assaulted – both physically and sexually. People who are homeless are often hungry, unable to get clean, struggling with physical health, and most people who are homeless for a long time end up with an addiction even if they didn't start out with one. Being homeless is one of the hardest and most vulnerable positions in our society, if not THE hardest.

The history I'd learned in college about the closing of state hospitals for people with disabilities, and the resulting (continued) failure of the system to care for the most vulnerable people in our society suddenly became very clear in reality. People who were in the same population as Sky Lake's beloved special needs campers were homeless on the streets of Los Angeles. The disconnect between the intentional care I'd been offering to God's beloved people with special needs at camp and the reality that people with special needs were being assaulted every day on the streets of LA, and that society was doing NOTHING to change it broke open my heart.

I have not recovered yet.

Instead, over the past 15 years, I've discovered more and more ways that the world is fundamentally broken and been disillusioned repeatedly. Some wise ones have pointed out that is it because of the color of my skin and the stability of my childhood that I was able to be so naive to begin with, and they're right. Yet, for me seeing the world as it is, and seeing clearly what its priorities are and are not, is painful. Similarly, seeing the church as it is, and seeing clearly what its priorities are and are not has been painful.

I believe that part of the purpose of church is to offer a God's vision for the world to the people, and as such to offer hope that we can build the kindom together. Further, I believe that the pastor's role is to be a speaker of the vision, and of hope. People NEED hope, and our faith tradition offers it. It has been hard at times, though, to have integrity and be truthful about the brokenness, and simultaneously offer real hope. The challenge, I think, has been in my own discomfort with reality. Once reality is accepted, then it can be worked on, but I've been struggling for years to accept that things really are as broken as abundant evidence points to.

The realities of the world, however, are exactly WHY we need to speak hope – real hope – and be inspired by God's visions of justice. We can't just let ourselves wallow, we have to face reality, but we can't offer weak or trivial hope. The world, and its people, NEED to know that another way of being is possible, and we can create it together.

Family Systems theory teaches us that when we are anxious, we get more close minded. When systems (groups of people) are anxious, they get more close-minded too. They take less risks. They make worse decisions. They create anxiety in their people, and then people with raised anxiety tend to revert to old ways of functioning and coping mechanisms that often do more harm than good: gossip, triangulation, demonizing others, consuming, addictive behaviors, lashing out, etc. Anxiety can easily become it's own self-perpetuating cycle.

Dear ones, the anxiety in our systems right now are at unhealthy levels. I remember reading articles during the 2016 election cycle about the impact the election was having on our shared mental health (it was bad). It has gotten worse. The injustices around us take a toll every day, and I hear from all of us how much we want to create change. It doesn't help right now to be part of the United Methodist Church, because being part of a CHURCH that is an oppressor is really darn depressing, and adds our anxiety and dismay. Further, in this particular congregation, we've been working on something that is also really hard: we've been in conversations about balancing our budget, which we have not done since 2004. (And even that was a bit of an anomaly.) We have been living beyond our means for a long time. Balancing the budget requires making difficult decisions about who we are and what we do and what is imperative to our shared life together, and it requires that we have really difficult conversations where we don't all agree – and that is anxiety producing as well.

It is tempting, in these days, to give up: to stick our heads in the sand, or to lash out in anger, or to become comatose on the couch. It is REALLY easy to let the anxiety win.

But.

Dear ones, beloveds of God, we aren't going to do that. We aren't going to give in and we aren't going to lash out. We aren't going to let anxiety take over. We are going to keep on keeping on, working towards the kindom, loving each other, spreading love and goodness in the world, and trusting that God works with us, through us, and when necessary despite of us. We are going to find the ways to let go of the anxiety, and find some trust and some hope, and be sources of transformation.

We are going to break out of the cycles, because anxiety is terrible for us, it is terrible for the world, and it enables all the things we don't want to see! Now, here is the weird twist. Given all the brokenness of the world, it can feel really disrespectful, or trite, or privileged, or even mean to …. have fun, seek joy, laugh, and play. (Or even just to take breaks and deal with reality for a bit.) That's real! I know how hard it can be to enjoy life when we know the awful things that are happening, but I want to share with you wisdom that I heard second hand. This wisdom came from a person who was impoverished and disenfranchised in a country with dictatorial rule. That person was asked, “Why are you so joyful when things are so bad!?” And they responded, “Why would we let them take our joy too? It is all we have left.”

Joy, it turns out, is resistance. Joy is OURS to claim, and we shouldn't give it up, because giving it up won't help anyone – in fact it will hurt everyone. The world needs more joy.

Joy, unlike anxiety, creates space for creativity, for connection, for hope. Out of the box thinking can happen when joy replaces anxiety, and the problems of the world today REALLY need new solutions. Joy makes space for people to regain their humanity. And laughter really is the best medicine (trust me, I laughter until I cried at camp – twice – and I haven't felt so whole since before General Conference). Whatever you do, dear ones, don't cut out joy from your life.

And, if you need help getting to joy – which is totally fair – most wisdom teachers say gratitude is the way to get there. So, practice advice here: keep a gratitude journal, and take 5 minutes at the end of each day to notice what you are grateful for in that day. Putting our attention on what is good is a great way to create more good, and to make space in our lives for joy.

Now for the REALLY good news. Our God is a God who knows all about oppression, and has worked to overcome it throughout all of history. In all these years where I have become further and further disillusioned with society and the world, I have found great comfort in the Bible. The Bible is VERY WELL AWARE of the brokenness of the world, of the reality of domination systems, AND of the power of God to break them open.

The Bible tells this story innumerable times, but there are three really big versions of thie story: (1) The Bible says that God knows about the oppression of slavery, and moves to free the people who are enslaved. (2) The Bible says God knows about the oppression of exile, and moves the people to restoration. (3) The Bible says God knows about the oppression of being part of empire because of the force of the military, and moves the people to empowerment, to resistance, and ultimately to freedom. That is, the stories of (1) Exodus, of (2) Exile and Return, and (3) of the ministry of Jesus.

The passage from Isaiah today is a response to Exile and Return, and it speaks in the language of God as mother of the people, nursing them and caring for them. After a WHOLE LOT of condemnation of the injustices of ancient Israel, in the end of Isaiah we hear, “ Rejoice with Jerusalem, and be glad for her, all you who love her; rejoice with her in joy, all you who mourn over her-- that you may nurse and be satisfied from her consoling breast; that you may drink deeply with delight from her glorious bosom.” Rejoice with Jerusalem, despite it's history of oppression, despite its history of exile and destruction, none of those are the final words. The final words are that God cares for the people and finds a way to nurture them and it brings great joy. The final words in the book of Isaiah are God's comfort, and care, and the people's JOY.

I've told you before, but this bears repeating: Our faith says that Love wins in the end, and if Love hasn't won yet, then it isn't the end yet. (In this case Love and God are interchangeable.) The brokenness of day is not the final answer, God is still at work. We are still partnering with God to make things better. So, in the meantime, practice gratitude, find joy, allow for rest, and in doing so let go of anxiety. God is working, and looking for for open-hearted, loving, partners to work alongside. May we find MANY ways to be those people, and encourage each other towards joy. Amen

Rev. Sara E. BaronFirst United Methodist Church of Schenectady603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305Pronouns: she/her/hershttp://fumcschenectady.org/ https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

#Thinking Church #Progressive Christianity #Rev Sara E Baron #fumc schenectady #Schenectady #UMC #Sorry about the UMC #Reconciling Church #All means all #Joy comes in the morning #don't give up joy #Love Wins In The End #My boyfriend Isaiah

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iwantthedean · 8 years ago

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Angels Among Us

Sequel to The Demon’s Pet.

Part Nine: Prepare

Word Count: 2035

Pairing: MoC!DeanxOFC

Summary: Dean and Zephaniah’s story continues as he fights against The Mark of Cain taking hold, and she avoids waging war with Heaven.

Warnings: Language. I think that’s it?

Masterlist

In the months since she had last been in Hell, Zephaniah had recalled the experience with little more than fear and anxiety. When she walked into Crowley’s dwelling this time, however, she did so with a cold look in her eye and all the confidence in the world.

Two demons stopped her outside of Crowley’s throne room. She held tight to the demon knife in her hand, prepared to defend herself but assuring them she was not here to attack anyone.

“Then why are you here?” one of the demons pushed.

“I have a proposal for your king.”

“Let her in,” a voice bellowed from the other side of the door.

Zephaniah nodded to both demons before letting herself through the doors. She approached Crowley where he was slumped to one side on his throne, looking far less than amused.

“Have you finally come to get your revenge, Zephaniah?” Crowley asked, his tone conveying his boredom.

“Not today. Sorry to disappoint,” Zephaniah smirked. “I seem to have reached a certain level of desperation, and I – God help me – need your help.”

Crowley perked up. “You need my help? Well, you have my undivided attention now, dear girl.”

“Months ago, Heaven asked me to prevent Dean from releasing The Darkness. I didn’t know that’s what it was at the time and – anyway. I have denied them several times over, and I’ve killed three angels in the process of figuring out another way to prevent The Darkness from being released. Nathaniel is leading the cause now, and, despite warnings from Castiel, I’ve chosen to maintain my stand against them.”

“Honestly, Zephaniah,” Crowley said, standing from his chair. “I can’t say I’m not impressed. I’m still curious, what could you need me for?”

Zephaniah took a deep breath. “Nathaniel is going to wage war against me, and anyone who stands with me. Castiel and the Winchesters will stand with me, but that may not be enough. When I thought of anyone who may have something against Heaven that would be enough to fight in this war with me, you were the first that came to mind.”

Crowley tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “Why does this feel like a trick?”

“It’s not a trick, Fergus,” someone spoke up from behind Zephaniah. “The girl is truly here for your help.”

“Mother,” Crowley sneered. “I’d hate to think that you planted this seed in her head.”

“The idea was all her own,” Rowena assured, standing next to Zephaniah.

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Oh God, the two of you in cahoots with each other? I truly am being punished.”

“Your mommy said you could come out and play, Fergus,” Zephaniah smirked.

“Do not,” Crowley hissed. “You two women will be the death of me.”

“If we’re lucky,” Zephaniah mumbled under her breath; she immediately held up her hands in defense and apologized. “That was uncalled for. Crowley, I’m being serious about this, I really am. I brought Rowena because, while she was not the first person I thought of to have join us, she was the next. She has already agreed to join us, and I brought her with me as a show of good faith. I want us to win this war, but we cannot do it alone. And, come on – you cannot tell me that you would pass up a chance to kill some of those feathered dickheads.”

Crowley took a deep breath and considered her carefully. “What’s in it for me?”

Zephaniah glanced at Rowena, who stepped forward. “If we win this, Zephaniah has agreed to give up her soul. In order for that to happen, however, you must agree, Fergus, to allow me to be your second in command.”

“Win, win, win,” Crowley replied in a sing-song voice. “I suppose I can accept both of those conditions. Count me in.”

With newfound confidence since Crowley was on board, and Rowena was on their side, Zephaniah decided it was time to re-train a little bit, for all of them. Castiel spent the next twenty-four hours leading them all through a crash course in fighting angels. When the training came to an end, they were all exhausted. Sleep was more of a priority than eating, as was showering. Before they retired to bed, Dean and Zephaniah took the time to down a glass of whiskey each. They were sitting at the table in the war room, and Dean was working up to ask Zephaniah the question he already knew he didn’t want the answer to.

“How’d you get Crowley in on this? And Rowena?”

Zephaniah polished off her drink. “I did what I’ve always done, Dean. I did whatever I had to do to keep us on the winning side.”

“What did you do, Zephaniah?” This time, there was no mistaking the adamancy in his tone.

“To get Crowley and Rowena, I had to get both of them,” Zephaniah said. “Crowley would only agree if I would give up my soul, and Rowena gets to be Crowley’s second-in-command. All of that is contingent upon our winning this war.”

“Yeah,” Dean scoffed, “because we’ll all be dead if we don’t win it.”

Zephaniah pushed her whiskey tumbler around in the ring of condensation on the, wooden table. “We may all die anyway. But the more people we have on our side, maybe we stand a little bit more of a chance.”

Instead of the angry reaction Zephaniah had expected from Dean, she saw tears gather in his eyes.

“You’re giving up your soul for me,” he said on a shaky breath, as though it wasn’t real until he said it out loud. “That’s the absolute last thing I ever wanted for you.”

“I know. Even when you were a demon, you tried to stop anyone from convincing me to give up my soul. It’s my turn to protect you now, Dean. I’m not sorry and I don’t regret any of the choices that I have made.”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut then, allowing the tears to overflow and make way down his face. Zephaniah left her seat sit his lap and hug the man who held her heart as close as she would allow. His tears, as much as they broke her heart, also gave her the slightest bit of hope that there was true love in Dean’s being for her, not only a connection created by The Mark.

Several days went by with nothing much more to do than wait. The Winchesters, Zephaniah, Castiel, Crowley, and Rowena – their small army – filled the time as best they could.

Crowley returned to Hell to mind his minions while waiting for the war to break out. Rowena studied the Book of the Damned, giggling every now and then at the pretty little spells she was finding.

Castiel spent his time between Earth and Heaven, making last ditch efforts to avoid violence between the two worlds. Nathaniel was having none of it, it seemed, no matter how many offers Castiel attempted to negotiate on Zephaniah’s behalf.

Not that Zephaniah was offering anything. She told Castiel to go ahead and do what he thought he could do; she trusted his judgement. In the meantime, Zephaniah, Dean, and Sam continued to train and do as much research as they could. There were several possible outcomes for this fight, and they all knew there was no way to be entirely prepared for all of them – or any of them, really.

She had just finished reloading her favorite handgun when Dean found her in the shooting range. He admired the way she handled a gun that was just slightly too big for her hands, compensating by adjusting her grip and minding the angles of her shot.

“If you’d relax your shoulders a little bit, your shot would be perfect,” Dean said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Zephaniah considered him momentarily before making the small adjustment. She emptied the magazine into a grouping of shots with expert precision.

“Thanks,” she said, setting the gun on the bench in front of her.

Dean leaned against the bench, arms still crossed over his chest. He stared at the ground, trying to figure out how to put his thoughts into words. There were things he wanted Zephaniah to know; things he didn’t want either of them dying without having been said and known.

“When I was a demon and I showed up in that hotel room the first time, Zeph, I think I knew right away that I was going to be addicted to you – and it wasn’t The Mark. It was something more.” He opened his mouth to continue, but Zephaniah cut him off.

“We aren’t soulmates, Dean. I told you that. We’ve both read the lore on it, and this is not that at all.”

Dean nodded. “I know that, but I also know it’s more than The Mark. You saved me from all the worst parts of myself. Even when I tortured you, when I tried to push you away – you’ve stayed close. Even now, when you don’t believe that this is anything more than the root of all evil pulling towards your soul, you’ve stayed. Maybe I’m wrong – sure wouldn’t be the first time. Either way, no one has stood by me like you have. That’s reason enough for me to love you.”

Zephaniah couldn’t help her breath catching in her throat. Maybe they weren’t the kind of people who labeled their relationship or put emotions into words, but this, what Dean had said, meant the world to her.

“I’ll let you finish up here,” Dean said, interrupting her silent thoughts. He kissed her temple, then left the gun range.

With all manner of emotions bubbling up in her chest, Zephaniah loaded the gun’s magazine again and emptied it out again. When all those tiny explosions were not enough, she leaned on the bench in front of her, and cried.

The knife in Zephaniah’s hand was weighty but she was already in love with the weapon. Castiel had stopped her in the hall as she swiped quickly at her tear-stained face. He had made the knife himself; he was vague about its creation, telling Zephaniah only that it held elements of the demon blade, an angel blade, and even the Spear of Destiny. Though he didn’t say how, Castiel assured her that the blade had been tested on both species, as well as some others. Besides The Colt, Zephaniah now possessed the most lethal weapon in existence.

“Dies Irae,” Castiel said, reading the script on the blade of the knife. “The name of the weapon.”

“Day of wrath,” Zephaniah translated out loud. “I’ve heard that phrase before. I researched the prophet Zephaniah once, when I realized where my name came from. Much of the book Zephaniah wrote is a warning of the return and wrath of the Lord.”

Castiel nodded. “That’s right. It seemed fitting.”

Zephaniah nodded. “Thank you, Castiel.”

Castiel gave her a single nod before Zephaniah headed to find Dean to show him the gift from Castiel. His room, however, was empty. Zephaniah frowned; his belongings were still there but Dean was nowhere to be found.

Her eyes landed on white envelope on the pillow she used when she slept in Dean’s room. Setting the Dies Irae on the nightstand, Zephaniah picked up the envelope with trembling hands. It had her name on it; she tore into the envelope quickly.

A picture of the two of them, one she remembered Sam getting a lot of shit for taking. She had no idea that Dean had a copy of the picture, until now.

It was one of the few nights between Dean being cured of the demon disease and Heaven’s interference in their lives that they had all been able to just relax. Dean was sitting against the arm of the couch, and Zephaniah had her legs extended over his lap. They were looking at each other and laughing at something funny one of them had said.

Zephaniah flipped the picture over. When she read the message in Dean’s scrawl on the back, her heart fell to the floor.

Don’t come find me, Zeph. My turn to stand by you, no matter what.

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