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sweetbunnykook · 4 years

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Only You (8)

Word Count: 12,827 // angst (mention of physical abuse/harm, mention of child abuse/neglect, mention of forced pregnancy, mention of murder), smut (brief mention of cockwarming and masturbation), no fluff

Photographer!Jungkook X Noona!Reader

Summary: Jeon Jungkook, your wedding photographer, helps you escape on your big day upon learning about a secret your groom-to-be kept hidden. You soon fall for this young, passionate photographer. However, you underestimated just how much he was willing to reciprocate that love. Maybe, you think, he’s loving you just a little too much.

A/N: I’m so sorry this took FOREVER for me to write. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, please come scream in my inbox so I can scream with you! - 🐰

The red and yellow iron man figurine is snatched away from his clammy little hands, the harsh ridges of the plastic cutting across his palm to leave gashes that burned. Jungkook’s eyes are already glossy with unshed tears as he stares at the beloved toy in her grasp.

“Fucking useless piece of shit!” His mother screams, voice cracking as she throws the plastic figure at the man sprawled on the couch, a small pouch of belly fat pooling over his unzipped jeans. His dark disheveled hair and tattered clothing makes him look older than he actually is, earning a disgusted sneer from the woman. The head of the figurine hits the side of his arm but he simply glares at the child, and then at his wife, before turning away in silence. Iron Man lays on the dirty carpet, feet pulled apart, head dislodged from the neck.

“You think you’re the only fucking man in the world that works!? If I didn’t push out your bastard child, I would’ve left you years ago!”

Jungkook’s face scrunches into a frown, hiccupping as he gasps for air between sobs and hiccups. He knew he shouldn’t cry for the sake of angering his parents further but he couldn’t help it. Catching his mother’s attention, he steps back only for her to yank his small arm through the oversized superhero shirt and drag him across the living room. The child falls onto his knees, unable to help himself as the grip on his arms numbed his little hand in which he held his lunch bag.

“I’m sorry! Mama, I’m sorry! Mama!”

The soggy brown sandwich bag tumbles away from his grasp as his mother drags him into his makeshift room behind the sliding door of a storage unit. The shoebox-sized space is thankfully warm as it’s situated next to the hissing water heater. Jungkook’s mother pushes him onto the futon next to his school bag, empty cartons of milk, and mismatched socks.

“Don’t you dare make a fucking sound,” she spits, glaring down at the shaking boy who’d curled into the yellowed blankets in the corner. “You don’t want to upset mama, do you?”

Jungkook shakes his head, toes digging into the sheets below him. His ears are ringing, but he knew better than to disagree when her eyes become as red as the knitted dragon on his socks. Red means danger, red means silence.

The door slides shut with a bang and little Jungkook shakes and shakes, bent knees knocking into each other as cold sweat forms on his temples. He wipes his moist eyes with the back of his hand and curls into the corner, hunger pains wringing his stomach tight. He struggles to hold in his bladder and cries harder when he tremors once more and his pants turn dark with urine.

The room gets darker, the house falls steadily falls silent, yet there is still no food offered to him. He doesn’t know how much time has passed as the only window in the room is nailed shut with wooden boards; only the small amount of sunlight shining between the rotten wood tells him when to sleep and when to dress for school. Looking at the dark gaps, he’s disappointed to find that it’s well past dinner time.

He can hear his parents screaming at each other between bouts of silence, their voices lowering gradually as exhaustion takes over them. He’s glad that at least he’s left alone. When the screaming ends, there is moaning, sounds of flesh against flesh, and silence once more.

They must have forgotten he hasn’t eaten, he thinks to himself as his frown deepens.

Jungkook knows they are most likely asleep but he doesn’t want to risk disturbing the peace – the silence – that he can finally enjoy. If it weren’t for his hunger, he would be perfectly content staying still. He closes his eyes to the world and wishes on the lonely lightbulb hanging from the ceiling that one of his parents will awaken and at least take pity on him to throw the sandwich bag in the room. The roaches might have gotten to it first but he wasn’t in a position to complain.

Wiping away the dried snot on his face with the back of his hand, Jungkook looks up at the spotted roof and imagines a big studio like the one Iron Man has. When he becomes big and strong, he would have a drawer full of chocolates and another one full of clean and cool clothes like his classmates. He would be so successful and so cool that his teachers will fall to their knees and he will never have to do homework again. Even Iron Man will come knocking at his door to spend time with him – that’s how cool he will be.

Despite the growling in his stomach, Jungkook giggles softly. He discards his soiled bottoms away from the futon, being extra careful not to let the wetness touch his backpack, and lets his big shirt fall over his knees. He then rolls over to cushion his head with the back of his backpack. At least in his dreams, he lived well.

Some days are painful but some days should be better, he thinks.

“It’s a miracle you survived,” Taehyung says one day as he hands Jungkook a bigger share of his rice ball. Jungkook rolls the sleeves of his black Busan middle school uniform up to his elbows, knowing the smell will be hard to get rid of if the loose seaweed falls apart in his hands like last time. The cheap tuna Taehyung stuffed it with smelled like gasoline and they made it a habit to hold their breaths as they chew. The mayonnaise at least helps the mouthfuls of fish slide right down their throats. No matter how strange his lunch boxes smelled, Jungkook never complained.

“I hate them,” Jungkook whimpers as he chew, leaning the heel of his sticky palms against the wet boulder beneath as his older friend rubs the tender sores on his neck with a free hand. Several bruises trail down his spine and Taehyung knows there are more underneath the uniform. “I just want to get out of here.”

Their naked feet, exposed under their rolled pants, dangle from the sharp layer of rock and moss protruding from the side of the boulder. The sound of ocean waves drown their voices and they find themselves shouting over its volume. Jungkook jumps slightly when cold water splashes over his toes.

“We’ll go anywhere you want.” Taehyung stretches his neck from side to side to undo the knots, his steel eyes landing on the grains of dry rice rolling down the rock.

Jungkook looks at his dearest friend, truly look at him, and grabs another rice ball from the canteen. He coughs slightly when the tuna goes down the wrong pipe, taking a swing of the water bottle from his opened backpack laying at his feet. It was hard for him to sit still when Taehyung says such things so frivolously. In fact, Jungkook found himself annoyed – annoyed that these fantasies are way beyond his imagination and annoyed that Taehyung might not mean what he says and Jungkook is just waiting around for leftovers like the rice ball in his hands.

Jungkook kicks the side of the rock as he licks his fingers clean, scraping his heel along the ridges back and forth. His bottom lip sticks out in a pout. “You’re going away to med school later too…we might not see each other even when you get to college. It’s like…ten years.”

Jungkook can just imagine it. Taehyung, the miracle from a small town in Busan who surpassed everyone with his razor-sharp intelligence and sly fox charms. He’ll walk up to a podium for a white coat ceremony to attend the nation’s best medical school. There will be cheers and flowers everywhere; he bet even the president will show up for the ceremony because Taehyung will represent the rags-to-riches fantasy everyone wants. He’ll go on to be a surgeon full of pride and joy. He’ll marry a naïve but rich girl from Gangnam who will pity his hardships and they’ll have five children together and live in a penthouse. They’ll live on the top floor where they can look down at the people passing by like they’re nothing but ants.

And as for him, he might still be sleeping in that same storage closet next to the hissing water heater.

“I’ll take you with me.” Taehyung pushes the half-full canteen towards the younger boy, giving away his share, and wipes his hands on his pants. There are three giant rice balls left and even some pickled radish at the bottom. The food offering doesn’t make the younger boy smile like he usually do, his brain is so full of worries it might explode.

Jungkook shakes his head at nothing. The future seems so, so far away, almost out of reach. He can barely image his life without Kim Taehyung, the only genius the sad little town has produced this generation who ironically became his best friend and caretaker. There’s been rumors that he’d skipped four grades and grew up speaking Cantonese just from watching films. Jungkook hasn’t confirmed these theories himself but he wouldn’t be surprised if it were true. He had a future as bright as the stars while Jungkook knew, deep in his heart, that his kind is bound to be in the sewers. He’s forever looking up at the stars that Taehyung can collect without lifting a finger.

“I won’t burden you, Tae. I’m just trouble.”

“You’re not,” he runs his fingers through Jungkook’s dark cocoa hair with his damp fingertips. The younger boy trembles slightly at the feeling, kicking his feet to hide how much he’s enjoying it. “That’s what they want you to believe…but you’re not. We’ll get out of here together, I promise.”

“N-No, you have to go Tae,” Jungkook puts the rice ball back in the steel canteen set between them and turns, serious all of the sudden. His voice is cracking and his leg shakes up and down as he tries hard to control the rage and grief boiling inside him.

He knows what will happen. When Taehyung leaves, luggage in hand, to whatever top-tier college in the country with a full scholarship, he’ll end his life. He’ll take the kitchen knife and plunge it deep into his heart and bleed out in front of his sad excuse of a mother. His father can join in on the crying, or the celebration, over his corpse once he wakes up from a drunken slumber. Actually, they might not even notice he’s bleeding. With the piles of newspaper and dishes laying around, Jungkook would be nothing but bones underneath all that garbage by the time they discover his body.

Taehyung, gripping the hair above the nape of the boy’s neck, keeps him in place like a bothersome cub. “I won’t leave you, Kook. I swear on my life I won’t. When the time is right, we’ll get out of here together.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply immediately, weighing the sincerity on his ears. Feeling tears sting his eyes, he leans his forehead on the older male’s broad shoulders to hide his face and circles his arms around his biceps. Taehyung nuzzles his chin into the younger boy’s hair and smells the salt of the sea in his scalp.

“I’m useless,” Jungkook says at last. He’d decided that Taehyung was genuinely concerned about him after all and not showing off. Those words were not like the empty promises he’s heard many times growing up. “I’m not smart like you. I can deliver milk and newspaper and that’s about it.”

Jungkook rubs his cheek up and down Taehyung’s shoulder blade, scratching the little wound on his cheek until it burned. He can still feel the buckle of his father’s belt ripping a patch of skin off the top of his cheekbones. He had considered leaving that day without a dime to his name but knew better to stay.

Taehyung reaches behind him and tugs his backpack forward, choosing to instead comfort the boy through a gift he’s been wanting to give for some time. He shrugs Jungkook away, earning a pout as the boy wanted to hear more honeyed words of comfort. His irritation, however, is short lived when he sees a flash of onyx and silver in Taehyung’s hands. He watches as the film camera gleams under the tangerine sun, the cracks on the side oozing a type of charm only antiques have.

“This is grandpa’s camera,” Taehyung says as he sets the camera down on his friend’s lap. “I want you to take pictures of the things you love before we get out of here.”

It’s not a gift, but a promise.

“You’re giving this to me?”

He nods. “Don’t worry, he ran off ages ago. I wanted you to have it…I think you’ll like it once you get the hang of it. There’s already a roll inside, it’s half used. I know you wanted that camera from Mickey’s but…this is good enough for now.”

Jungkook’s cheeks turn bright red as he holds the camera in his hands, brushing his thumbs across the protruding lens and the square of white plastic in the corner. He didn’t realize that Taehyung paid enough attention to catch him staring at things he can’t afford. It was equally humiliating as it is flattering that someone notices his wants and needs. Although the camera in his hands is not as fancy as the one in the display cases, Jungkook is more than grateful for he would not be able to afford the basic point-and-shoot camera on a delivery boy salary.

He can’t help but think maybe this will be Taehyung’s final gift to him before he goes away. Maybe the older boy is just taking pity on him because attachment is an illusion that slowly dissipates as absence takes its rightful place.

That rags-to-riches fantasy happens to those who are smart and sincere like Taehyung and not to boys like him – boys who stupidly spend hard-earned money on Iron Man comic books despite needing money to escape.

“I can’t afford to buy film,” Jungkook complains because he knows he’ll burst into tears if he thanked Taehyung. He peers into the viewer with one eye closed. He takes a shot of the waves dancing under their feet. The cerulean blue, their tanned feet, the black rocks – he can already feel excitement bubbling within him when he’ll make the time to develop the roll at the school photography lab.

“I have a box of unused ones in the basement. I’ll dig it out for you later.”

“Mm…okay.”

He points the camera towards the setting sun, taking a snap just when two birds fly past him. The film inside clicks into place with a satisfying snap, making him giggle. He turns at the waist and points the lens towards Taehyung, who stares into the camera with a disinterested amusement that tugs Jungkook’s heart a little more than he feels comfortable with. To please the boy, Taehyung holds a peace sign over his cheek, shielding half of his face as his eye peers past the ‘v’ shaped fingers. Jungkook takes the shot.

“Happy?”

He giggles louder this time. “Very much so.”

Taehyung takes the camera away, enveloping his large hand over the boy’s fingers. He holds the viewer up to eye level, seeing Jungkook nibble on his lower lip. He knows what the boy is thinking. There’s no way he can look pretty with the wound on his cheek, with the purple bruise blossoming around his right eye, the chapped lips split open from his nervous gnawing. Sensing his discomfort, Taehyung reaches over with his free hand and tugs at Jungkook’s hair tucked behind his ears. His deep mahogany-black locks bounces forward like a curtain, shielding the injuries without effort.

“Perfect.”

The camera snaps once more.

You curse under your breath after splashing your face with cold water in the office bathroom. Work has been absolute hell in contrast to the newfound heaven at home with Jungkook. You swear there’s a force in the universe set out to get you; as one part of your life heals, another part has its wounds reopen. When Jin called in sick for a few days two weeks ago, you did not realize how different he was going to be when he returned. Something about the way he looks at you these days leaves you paralyzed, often times leading you to work entirely in your personal office instead of the open cubicle like you usually do.

You assume that perhaps there is something going on in his personal life that can explain his passive aggression towards you and your coworkers. Taking pity on him through your own self-talk, you complete his share of the paperwork without complaints for an entire week without earning a single ‘thank you’ or even a smile from him. He often walked back and forth in the hallway, dialing his phone with an aggression that leaves you wondering if the screen even works with how hard he’s pressing. Knowing he was the type of person to need distance during hard times, you didn’t push it.

That is, until he’s suddenly calling in the middle of the night and dragging you out of break rooms. The office is already short on staff due to Sora’s absence, you didn’t need to be reprimanded for laziness especially after you carried his entire workload and apologized on his behalf for mistakes in the software he was supposed to fix.

Honestly, you’re not sure why Jin is cold one moment, hot the next, and then absolutely boiling on some days. But you’ve had enough of it and you’ve reached breaking point today when you heard rumors for the first time that your department, usually praised for its performance, has too many unprofessional workers (it did not take energy for you to figure out people are talking about your little cat-and-mouse chase with Jin). Thus, it was a relief when your former assistant shows up at the office and gives you a break from the cycle of avoiding your childhood friend while saving whatever reputation you have left here.

Pleasant and giving as always, Sora brings sandwiches for the people in your department with no pressure to have the favor returned. It’s the first time you’ve seen your assistant since she took her maternal leave; you almost forgot about her despite receiving occasional updates about her condition and even yearning for her when Jin disappears from his cubicle or stares at you from across the room. To you, she’s one of the best persons you’ve worked with so far in your career. Although Jin is great at handling IT issues that arise too many times for you to wonder if the whole job should be thrown away, it was Sora who brightens the atmosphere with her rambunctious laughter and messy desk in which she was miraculously able to get work done at an unmatched rate. Sporting a small bump beneath her floral wrap dress, she greets you with a kiss on both cheeks.

As you take her in your arms, you peer at Jin leaning against the office fridge with arms folded. His public questioning about Jungkook stays fresh in your mind and everyone else’s as they quietly glance between you and him between conversation.

Almost every time he chases after you, the first words out of his mouth was your boyfriend’s name. It got to the point where you wish you’d wake up from this nightmare that will pass when whatever in his life fixes itself. You’re sure his irrational behavior, arriving from nowhere with the suddenness of a car crash, is coming from something else in his life. You are sure, one hundred percent, that this is the kind of asshole behavior that somehow manifested in your male peers back in college, not that you were ever on the receiving end of it. Until now.

Currently, Jin seems to be deep in thought, sporting dark bags under his eyes. His eyes meet yours momentarily before you pull back and gasp at Sora’s belly with the vigor of a seasoned actress.

“Why do I have a feeling you didn’t just come to bring sandwiches?” You tease while your coworkers chuckle, turning their heads towards you for a moment before turning back to their plates. There are only a few sandwiches left on the counter as you couldn’t leave a conference call until much later unlike others. Actually, it was the same conference call from the person who was disrupted when Jin pulled you out of the room for an “emergency” days ago. You were too angry to even listen to him then, and even angrier now that you’re here smiling after apologizing with a bow just moments before.

With the merry atmosphere dancing in the otherwise cold break room, even your boss sitting at the end of the table has a difficult time asking people to head back to their cubicles and corner offices.

“No, I came here because I missed you,” she squeezes your arms, dragging you softly towards the table scattered with sandwiches of all types. How unfortunate the lobster roll – your favorite – is all gone.

“Please,” you scoff and she laughs with that hearty, sweet sound you missed so much.

“Actually,” she begins, “I’ve been thinking of staying at home to be a mother.”

Your jaw hangs. “You won’t be coming back after this?”

Her face falls slightly at your question and you immediately shut all your thoughts deep inside. You don’t understand the first thing about being a mother. It’s only reasonable you hear her out first. From the corner of your eyes, you see Jin walk towards the coffee pot and pour himself a cup in his chipped mug that brings a spark of annoyance in your chest.

“I do,” she sighs, “but…I found out I’m having twins. Just last week actually. This entire pregnancy was a bit of an accident and I needed time to rethink my priorities. My husband is more than thrilled we’re having twins, you know how he is-“

You nod in sympathy.

“-but it’s difficult for me. I already have a toddler and now with two more…I thought about handing in my resignation soon. I just wanted to see you all one more time before I do.”

You place your hand on her back once you see the tears in her eyes, leading her outside of the break room and into the small walkway where sunlight from the open windows gives you a better view of her solemn yet saccharine face.

“You do what’s right for you. But I understand it’ll be difficult for you to get another job if you need one later with kids around. Have you talked it over with Alex?”

At the sound of her husband’s name from your lips, her cheeks redden slightly.

“He’s glad that I’m strongly considering staying at home. He always wanted to have a big family and we’re more than financially stable with his salary alone. It’s just…I’m going to miss work.” She looks up at you, eyes watering even more. “It feels like I have a family here. Especially you, I feel like I have the little sister I always wanted.”

“Oh Sora,” you sigh, bringing her in your embrace once more and letting her cheek rest on your perfumed shoulder. She inhales the scent of soft geranium and jasmine, letting it calm her anxiousness only further amplified by pregnancy hormones. If the rest of your coworkers found out how emotional she’s getting, they all will follow suit and cry along with her. “We’re still family whether you work here or not. I’m always a phone call away and you know the team will be here to help you if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” she sniffles, “I’m grateful…really, for everything.”

“It’s no problem at all,” you smile. “I can’t wait for the babies to arrive. From the bottom of my heart, congratulations on the twins, Sora. It’s such a rare and precious thing.”

She beams at you, eyes glistening, her smile stretching wider as she takes your hands in hers and gives them an eager squeeze.

“I don’t even know how to explain it. Just seeing the ultrasound for the first time was, god I wish you were there!”

“Me too,” you agree, turning your head to the side to see Jin peering at you from between the gap of the door and the column in the corner of the hallway. “Alex must be so thrilled.”

She rolls her eyes. “He wouldn’t shut up about it. He’s baby-proofing the entire house right about now even though I’m not even due for another six months.”

You giggle with her, thinking back to the time you walked into your home to see Jungkook on all fours, rubbing sandpaper to the edges of your coffee table. It’s too dangerous, he said when you stand in front of him with a fist on your hip, you’ll hurt yourself. His strong arms bulge and flex as he works the wood with the ferocity of a mad man. You wonder if Alex is in the same position on the floor, religiously rubbing sandpaper back and forth against the corner of the wooden table.

“That’s so funny,” you muse. “Jungkook baby-proofed the house once and made a mess of the living room…and I’m the farthest thing from a clumsy child.”

Sora raises an eyebrow, elbowing you softly on the side. “Is he dropping hints? You have sex regularly, don’t you?”

“Shhh! Sora!”

She cackles as you turn back and forth between the open door and at her amused face.

“We’re not even married, or even engaged!”

“Well,” she shrugs. “Do you really need to be married to have a child these days? Men can have baby fevers way early in the relationship,” she muses, thinking back to her college days. She seems completely different from the emotional expecting mother just a few minutes ago now that men are the topic of the conversation. Classic Sora move. “I conceived my daughter just a day before Alex proposed.”

You blush, tucking your hair behind your ears. For a moment, you think of your picture-perfect boyfriend on his knees rubbing your lower belly and cooing with his ears pressed up against you. “I guess not but…Jungkook and I aren’t ready for that yet. At least, for the time being.” You shake your head dramatically from side to side, bringing your hands up to your face. “All this baby talk is giving me ideas I don’t like.”

“Alright alright,” Sora waves her hand back and forth like she’s swatting away a fly. “I won’t be one of those annoying office moms that constantly pressure people into pooping out kids.”

You laugh, leaning your back against the wall.

A coworker from two cubicles down peeks his head out the door and urges for Sora to come back into the room. From the ruckus, you can hear your coworkers fighting over the last few sandwiches in a game of rock paper scissors. It seems people are also curious about the picture of her ultrasounds – which you didn’t realize were there before – scattered across the lunch table.

Everyone except for Jin, that is.

You turn towards the door as she waves you off and staggers into the room, just in time to maneuver around Jin who walks towards you while closing the door behind him.

“I need to talk to you about something,” he pleads, peering down at you with a heavy, foreboding stare that wipes the remaining laughter out of your chest.

“Can we talk later?” You move to the side to walk past him, only to be blocked as he steps along with you. You really don’t want to deal with him today when you’re having a good time. You actually don’t want to deal with him at all, at your wit’s end.

“You don’t pick up my calls and you almost always leave before me, if not right away. When I ask, you avoid me.”

Every word out of his mouth is true and you feel sick being confronted with it all despite how valid your anger is with the way he seems to want nothing to do with you when he returned, then wanting to bombard you all five working days last week. However, you’re not sure if the sourness in your gut is regret or anger; regretful that you stayed away from Jin like your boyfriend asked or angry that he is slowly getting on your nerves with his recent behavior. Anytime Jin approaches, it’s never about work or even about your friendship and always about your relationship with Jungkook that he somehow sees as unhealthy and worrying.

“Sora is retiring, Jin. I want to be there for her.” You step around him, only for him to grab you by the elbow and drag you further away from the door. You push him away, glancing at the end of the hallway to see if anyone saw.

“What the hell happened to you?” Jin questions.

“No,” you whisper-snarl, looking back and forth from the door to your childhood friend. “What the hell happened to you? Why do you keep picking fights with me when you know I’m going to react the same way?”

He raises an eyebrow. “With you ignoring me?”

You can feel the anger in your veins making your nerves curl. For the past week, he had been insufferable. You’d never seen someone turn from a friend to a stranger so quickly after you have to bear the weight of his eyes following your every move, leaving you unable to do any substantial office work without errors. Even then, you assume he must have personal business to take care of and needed the well-deserved sympathy. After all, Jin has always been a hard worker and you’ve never once doubted his work ethic, especially in this company where he thrived from your recommendation.

However, his newfound aggression has you thinking back to your boyfriend’s warning about how little you know about men despite living with one. His glare sharpens every time you leave early to head back home or when you take a quick call from Jungkook during your lunch breaks. His eyes seem to follow you across the room as you move back and forth from the copier to your office. You think Jin would be over this little temper tantrum of his until, just yesterday, he’d thrown his cup of coffee in the break room sink while you were on the phone. The sound of porcelain meeting steel and the anger in his eyes was something you couldn’t forget about and in your heart you knew the fury extended past you onto your boyfriend waiting for you at home.

“I know you obviously have an issue with Jungkook.”

“So now you’re ready to discuss?”

“Discuss what?” You scoff. “You claim to be my friend who watches out for me yet you can’t even be happy that I’m finally with someone who cares for me. Jin,” you sigh in exasperation, “look, I know you let your paranoia or whatever get in the way but I promise you Jungkook isn’t a liar or a cheat like Namjoon. You’re overreacting.”

He crosses his arms. “Are you so sure about that?”

“About what?”

“Him not lying to you.”

You didn’t like how serious he looked at that very moment. You’d constantly teased about how his classic poker face he kept from his agent days is the reason why he’s been single since the day he was born. It’s a type of unique hardened face that intimidates anyone smaller than him. Now that this sternness is directed at you, you’re not enjoying a single moment of it.

“There’s no reason for him to lie to me.” You’re confident in that statement and he can sense it by the way your spine straightens and your eyes brighten.

It tugs his heart that you feel so strongly about another man when he knows the truth. It hurts him to know that you’ll be ruined by the files he received from Hoseok and Yoongi sitting in his flash drive. Above all, what hurts him the most is that he risked both of his former coworkers’ safety to verify his intuition, an intuition you easily brushed off to prioritize a months-old relationship against his life-long friendship to you.

On the other hand, you can’t fathom just how much Jungkook can possibly keep from you despite being the most sensitive and loving boy you’ve ever met. A little over two weeks ago, on your balcony, Jungkook had revealed everything you needed to know about him and the reason why he feels the way he feels. He’d trusted you enough to tell you something that affected him the most, that justified his habits you were once annoyed by, and that gave you the reason to become more than just his girlfriend. Sitting on his lap, kissing his scars, and listening to his words, you knew nothing can stop you from loving this boy you met under unwelcomed circumstances.

Really, it was ridiculous that you never noticed the signs before. Jungkook had always cowered to your anger, always the one to put your needs first before his, almost never raising his voice at you except for the few times you were oblivious to your surroundings and endangered your wellbeing.

And here, your friend, belittles you the longer he doubts the validity of your relationship with Jungkook.

Jin’s lips part but you manage to speak before him, stepping closer to him as you crane your neck to meet his unwavering gaze.

“I need to set this straight.” You put a hand on his arm. “I appreciate you as a friend, as someone who has been with me for a long time and looked out for me. I know you’ve always been good to me and I don’t hate you, even if I’m more than angry at you right now. I know you care a lot about the people close to you.”

You see him visibly soften at your words. The tender, loving expression on his handsome face makes you weak for a moment.

“But I need to draw a line here. I’m a woman who can make her own choices about what she wants. I don’t need you to be this…bodyguard stressing yourself to protect me from harm. I know what I’m doing and who I’m with. For god’s sake Jin, I’ve been living with Jungkook for months. If he’d somehow lied to me, I’d know by now. So please,” you beg, your eyes going back to the laughter coming from the closed break room door to your best friend’s piercing eyes. “Leave my relationship alone. Let me land on my feet after what Namjoon did to me. I’m,” you sigh, “so happy now. I’m at peace. So please…Jin,” you squeeze his arm. “Please. Can we just go back to being us?”

For the longest time he stays silent, his eyes moving across your face as if he’s looking for something important.

He finds his voice when you step away from him. “…I understand. I’m sorry…for making you uncomfortable. It wasn’t my intention.” He takes your hands in his. “I’m really sorry.”

You offer him a small, sympathetic smile and bask in the warmth of his palms. “I’m sorry too, for avoiding you when I could’ve said all of this earlier.”

“I just-” he starts and pauses.

Jin looks out the window, focusing on nothing in particular. He can see the top of trees and similar silver rectangle buildings reflecting sunlight. He watches a few cars drive past the swirl path leading to the parking lot situated around the main entrance of the building. He looks back down at you.

“I actually wrote everything I wanted to say and…I was too chicken shit to read it out loud. I,” he clears his throat, looking down at his shoes. “I’m just going through a hard time. I know I’m taking all of it out on you. I’m really sorry, I really-”

“Wait, Jin,” you cup his face in your warm hands, immediately shedding all traces of anger and annoyance you carried for the last few days. Of course, your friend of many years would never hurt or anger you on purpose. He’s overthinking and lashing out when logic hits a wall of emotions, just like you had with Jungkook before. You’ve never seen Jin on the verge of tears until now and it’s tugging your heart painfully. “I forgive you, everything’s okay now, right? You’re still one of my dearest friends, I’m not going to be mad at you forever.”

Jin shakes his head. “No, there’s just…”

He freezes mid-sentence again, leaving you curious as to what his next few words might be. Jin’s eyes move frantically from his shoes to the trees outside. Sweat prickles his scalp as he considers the weight of what he’s about to do next, what he’s about to reveal to you. He’d considered and reconsidered his plans only to wing it all last minute. What good does thinking ever do for him? When Jungkook holds your heart captive, is planning worth the trouble? Or is it easier to play Jeon’s game with his unpredictability? Right now, Jin is convinced it’s the latter.

You watch as he digs into his pocket to reveal a small black flash drive the size of a rifle bullet. “Everything I want to say,” he swallows, “is all here.”

You feel glued to the ground by the weight of the object in his hands and by how intense his gaze is as it sets on you. If Jungkook can see you know, you know he would be furious. Jin takes your hand, revealing your soft pink palm, and places the flash drive in the center before curling your fingers around it. Even though the object itself is as light as a feather, the burden of his words lay heavy against your chest, restricting your ability to breathe.

He whispers your name softly like a prayer, rubbing his thumb across your enclosed fist. “Please read it all for me when you’re alone. I promise I’ll leave you and Jungkook alone unless you need me.”

“W-What’s in it?”

A love confession? Maybe Jungkook was right all along about Jin, about men.

Jin shakes his head. “Just read it. Alone. I went through a lot of trouble to make this for you. If you forgive me and want me to be the Kim Seokjin you grew up with, read it.”

Your fist tightens slightly as you take another step away from him. When you walked to the office this morning and found him staring into his mug of pitch-black coffee, you weren’t expecting anything more than the usual passive aggressiveness or being chased during lunch breaks between your boyfriend’s calls. You didn’t expect to stand here in front of him, wondering if the contents of this flash drive will confirm the doubts Jungkook had about him all along.

Noona, can’t you see he wants you for himself?

You dig your hands into your pocket and tuck the flash drive away, garnering the strength to finally look back into your friend’s eyes. Jin’s eyes are fixed on your pocket before they scour your face once more as if he were searching for something.

“What is it?”

How ironic that you’re the one asking the questions now.

Jin’s lips part just slightly before he digs his fists into the pockets of his black slacks and look out the window. It’s strange that he can’t find the words he wanted to say when he can finally be alone with you for once without raising the suspicion of others or, worse, Jungkook’s. The wind blows gently into the hallway, carrying with it the scent of wet leaves. He stares into the distance as you stare at him until a round of laughter interrupts your thoughts. You look at the break room door and then back at your friend who seemed to have turned to stone.

“I’ll make sure to read it,” you reassure him, unable to bear the silence any longer.

He turns back to you but his smile is sad. You gaze at him longer, unable to decipher anything that just happened in this lonely hallway. One thing for sure, you know the contents of Jin’s flash drive needed to be opened alone and whatever is inside affects you more than it’ll affect Jungkook. Something about the content is going to change you, alter your reality, and take the blissful filter you’ve been wearing for the last two weeks at home. The thought makes you feel queasy as if you have something dirty to hide, as if you’re committing adultery behind Jungkook’s back after he’d spilled his heart out to you.

It was Jin who turns on his heels and heads back into the room.

You dig the flash drive out of your pocket and hold it up to the sunlight. It’s such a small and simple plastic tool costing just as much as a tin of mints.

Yet, it scares you so much you nearly miss your phone vibrating in your back pocket. Jungkook’s name flashes across your screen and for the first time, you hesitate to press the answer button.

Perhaps you thought too highly of yourself all along. How different are you really from Yori or Namjoon when you can keep a man’s secret in your pocket while you live with another?

So far, Jungkook has learned that fear is a strong motivator. It influences you, shapes you, makes you create paths where there isn’t one. It crawls up the walls and knocks on your window as a reminder that there’s always something lurking in the distance. It’s why Jungkook believes in never settling when things get comfortable.

When he asked Taehyung to make placebo pills, he had done so in fear that you would leave him. Yet, this does nothing to settle his nerves. In fact, it makes him uneasy that he’ll get caught somehow as if the birth control pills he flushed down the toilet never melted. In his unease, he can imagine those eggshell white tablets sticking to the sides of the drain despite the chances being slim to none. One call from a neighbor about a clogged pipe and it’s over for him.

This is the nightmare that lingered in his mind before he’d sat you down in his lap and pressed your hand against the dent on his cheek. Three weeks ago, you listened to him attentively as he wraps you slowly around his fingers. He can smell himself on your neck, taste himself on your tongue, feel your touch so agonizingly sweet on his taut stomach. It pained him a little that you, the privileged girl from the world above, might trade love for pity. But you were so accepting and so understanding of his past, his dependency on Taehyung and you, that there was no way someone can come along and convince him you weren’t made for him. Making love to you, worshipping your skin and scent, has never been so otherworldly for him.

Sitting in front of the television and replaying the footage of you from the wedding that could have taken you away from him, Jungkook inhales and exhales slowly. He’d taken the time to clip Namjoon’s footage away so that all that’s left is you in the wedding boutique twirling multiple dresses to your chest, your soft wavy hair pooling over your shoulders as you do so. In a silk robe, you lift a ballroom dress up against the mirror, eyes moving up and down the charmeuse and tulle quickly to take in all its miniscule details.

He loves that about you. The way your eyes glisten and widen when something strikes your heart. It’s the same look you gave him, sitting in his lap on that damp balcony, running your thumb over the scar on his cheek.

It was especially painful for Jungkook to reopen his past wounds but in one way he felt the invisible weight lift off his shoulders. He couldn’t tell you everything – especially not about the strings Taehyung pulled for him to live a normal life – but he was satisfied that you didn’t mind one bit. He swears he could hear you purring and sighing softly underneath his chin, reacting with a slight gasp when he tells you how often he was hurt back then and how thankful he was that Taehyung took him under his wing. Although a small spark of jealousy ignited in his chest when you mentioned inviting his attractive friend for dinner once he’s back in down, Jungkook was more than grateful that you didn’t seem to mind how attached he is to the older man.

He wonders if you’d react that same way if he’d told you he’d lost his virginity to Taehyung a year into high school and that his first kiss happened on that same beach rock. He wonders if you’d react in the same sympathetic manner if you truly knew what happened before he was able to graduate high school before the world plunged into tar.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Jungkook’s hands tremble as he yanks the storage drawer open and dig out his shirts, undergarments, and jeans into the duffel bag. He has to make sure he doesn’t forget his winter clothes because he would be livid if he finally gets out of this house only to freeze to death on the streets. From between the cracks of the rotten wood plastered against his window, he can see Taehyung standing with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. Taehyung looks around the house, at the rusted gates connected to the concrete walls that surround the perimeter, and the mailbox slumped over the garbage can. He looks at the messily covered windows and puffs out a smoke. There’s a similar slumped duffel bag next to his feet inflated with clothes and packets of food.

“I’m leaving.”

Jungkook’s mother attempts to grab him by the neck, unable to do so easily as he stands tall after he outgrew his middle school uniform. Her grip slips as fast as it comes.

“You ungrateful little shit!” She spits, reaching up successfully this time to grasp the ends of his hair as she shoves hard enough for him to stumble into the wall.

Relentless, Jungkook continues throwing his clothes, then his lunch box filled with coins and a wad of cash, into the bag.

“Do you have any idea how much I love you?!” She sobs, throwing herself on the floor next to his shoes and dirty socks. She scratches the slits on her arms and proceeds to drag her nails across the floor. A wretched cry falls from her lips and Jungkook feels his throat clenching, his eyes watering. Rather than sadness, it was boiling hot resentment that keeps him silent.

He doesn’t turn to look at her. He knows she’s going to manipulate him, somehow, with her disgusting guilt-tripping shrieks and nail him against the wall to prevent him from moving.

She pounds the sticky floor mats with the heel of her palms, her voice hoarse. “I made you, Jungkook! I took care of you, I fed you, I bought your fucking clothes. And you’re leaving me with this fucking asshole,” she slams her hands down again, her head snapping towards the sound of the back door slamming open followed by heavy footsteps. His hands begin to sweat, causing the toolkit he grabs from the top of the shelf to slip and clatter on the floor.

In the distance, Jungkook can hear his father crushing a can of beer against the kitchen counter and throw it in the sink for him to clean like he usually does. No longer is he going to be yanked around like a puppet for these two sad excuses of a human being. How his mother was able to carry him inside her full term and give birth while smoking and drinking like a sailor is unknown to him. He’s grateful, at least, that he came out sane. He thinks with a sudden surge of anger that perhaps his mother’s need to have a punching bag was more critical than the inconvenience that the pregnancy caused her.

To her, his father coming back with the stench of prostitutes and alcohol always became his fault. It was his fault that his mother’s body isn’t as it used to be. It was his fault their marriage is dead. Above all, it was his fault for existing to remind them that they produced another good-for-nothing trash to add to the pile of garbage that is this town’s desolate population.

“I’m not coming back,” Jungkook grunts as he throws a camera and several rolls of film in the bag. “I never want to see you or dad ever again.”

His mother shakes her head over and over again, arms stretched towards the door as it suddenly slams open to reveal the lean yet pot-bellied figure of a graying man. His father looks down at the duffel bag on the floor, and then at his wife curled next to Jungkook shoes. His face seems lifeless – like a corpse – with bulging black beady eyes that reflect no light and a mouth set in a thin strip. It’s the first time in years that the man came to see Jungkook in the makeshift bedroom, usually taking the couch in the living room as his permanent place of residence. It’s where he drinks, where he watches the same television program about car remodeling, and where he demands weekly handjobs in his drunken stupor.

“You’re leaving?” He interrogates, voice low and tired as if he’d woken up from a slumber.

Jungkook nods, zipping his bag and glancing around the room to see if he missed anything. He didn’t own much but it pains him to leave his heavy stack of comic books behind. There was no way he could carry that with him across the country.

“Why?”

Jungkook looks at his father under the single light bulb illuminating the otherwise dark and swampy room. For the first time, he notices how similar they look. He has the man’s eyes, his soft yet chiseled jaw, and even the mole under the lips. If the man were several decades younger, they would be a splitting image of each other. The thought makes bile rise up Jungkook’s throat.

Why is he leaving? Was that even a question he needed to answer? One night with the Jeons and anyone will run far away. Jungkook has lived here for nearly a decade and a half and at no point during his residency was he able to remember a time when his body wasn’t covered with bruises or scars. It’s a miracle that he’s never broken a bone nor hospitalized after being whipped across his bare buttocks for years like a prisoner. The humiliation was far worse than the pain.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Jungkook retorts for the first time, gaze hardening. “I fucking hate living in this hellhole.”

His mother watches as her husband swings forward and slams his fist down on the side of Jungkook’s temples, knocking the boy against the open drawers. Jungkook splutters a ball of saliva and blood and digs his arms and legs into onto the ground the crawl away. Unfortunately, the room had only so much room for him to move. The stronger male pulls him by the ankles, dragging him back and flipping him on his back for him to see the belt buckle coming undone.

Jungkook crosses his arms across his face and shields his eyes away from the light and those deep black eyes. From the gaps between his forearms, he sees his mother crawling towards him and yanking his pants down, digging her nails so deeply into the patch of skin where his hips meet the waistband that the scratch marks instantly bleed.

“This boy needs to be taught a lesson!” He hears his father say with a voice as sudden and full of viciousness as thunder, the first lash coming down across his arm. He cries out, spine stiffening as a he gasps into the side of the bag. His breath is ripped out of his lungs. The second lash comes down shortly afterwards across his thighs where former bruises had only recently begun to heal.

“He does, doesn’t he?!” His mother encourages, no longer seeming as distressed as she was before looking down at his scrunched and tear-streaked face.

“When I am done with you, boy, you are going to wish you were dead. You ungrateful piece of-”

A stream of thick liquid splatters over Jungkook’s trembling body, a few droplets attempting to seep into his eyelids squeezed shut. His pounding head gifts him with a vision so hazy he might as well stare through a dense blanket of fog. When his arms come down at his sides to hold his temples together, he can feel his veins pulsing beneath.

It takes a full minute for him to even understand what he was looking at. There’s a muscular arm holding his father across the chest to hold the man’s spine straight and another swung over his shoulders as a silver scalpel, following a trail across the neck, stays lodged deep into the trachea. Jungkook sees another splash of red fall over his bare knees as the stream of blood falls to his feet. The smell of iron is thick in the air when his father, eyes bulging out further than he thought possible, slumps to the side.

Pulling himself away from the weight of the corpse at his feet, Jungkook watches the figure rip the knife standing tall from the man’s throat and plunge into the side of his frozen mother’s neck. He watches her pale, skinny limbs thrash as if she’s burned before she slumps down next to the futon.

With a feeling he can only describe as akin to relief, Jungkook looks up at his savior.

“I told you you’ll need me here.”

With soaked hands, Taehyung gathers the boy in his arms and leans him against the wall. He watches as Jungkook’s face scrunches in pain once more and stray tears make its way down his baby soft cheeks. He takes his trembling bottom lip under his front teeth and shakes as he whimpers like a wounded puppy.

He is truly a puppy, Taehyung thinks.

The older boy takes his place against the wall, legs stretched out in front of him, watching Jungkook with the same enthusiasm as one watches a child take its first steps. Jungkook, wiping the splatters of blood from his face, exhales and sniffles loudly before crawling towards his mother. He wraps his fingers around the silver scalpel from her throat and pull until her skull knocks back down to the floor with a thud. Bloods seeps from her wound down to his fingers and, with a sudden strength, Jungkook lodges the sharp end of the tool into her heart. She must have been partially alive as a throaty gasp makes its way out of her mouth.

Her blood is darker than he remembered from the many period-stained panties of hers he scrubbed with his hands over the kitchen sink. It looked like tar, thick and warm yet lightweight as it drenches his clothes. Remembering his state of undress, he curls his fingers around the waistband of his pants and pull it up towards his hips and over the scratches at his side.

Jungkook grasps the knife once more to push further and relishes in the feeling of it hitting bone. He realizes, with wonder, that his parents don’t even look like corpses in front of him but like puppets.

Maybe that’s how they saw him when they were alive – like a puppet they could throw around without a care knowing it’ll live and die under this roof.

Jungkook takes the knife and stumbles over to his father’s body with enthusiasm, puncturing the man’s stomach and dragging the knife up towards the breastbone. More tar-black blood seep into the flooring, flooding the horizontal bamboo until it ran underneath the drawers and the small shelf holding his textbooks in a neat stack. He grips the knife and plunges, again and again, into the side of the man’s head, gasping only slightly when the bone gives away with a small crack like a camera shutter.

Jungkook situates himself on his knees, heels digging into his buttocks, and looks down at his soaked hands resembling red gloves. He examines his nails, the cuticles darkening as the blood oxidizes in the swampy room. He blinks a few times, watching the red glow under the dim lightbulb above him.

He’s imagined this moment many times before in his fantasies, some much more exciting and drawn-out than what occurred like a fight scene from a Bruce Lee movie. But none of those fantasies included Taehyung coming to rescue him like he had many times before. None of these fantasies included such quick and boring deaths. He was hoping he could say everything he wanted to say to them, about how much he loathed them with all his heart, how much he wished he could watch them boil alive like an insect in a summer pond.

They probably knew but didn’t care.

Now that it’s over, now that there will no longer be screaming and tiring cycles of starvation and receiving the belt, Jungkook is rather grateful for Taehyung’s interruption. And he’s grateful that his best friend of years has never really hid his experience from him. Taehyung just merely waited for his slow brain to catch up.

There’s only one thing he could say as the room falls silent and still.

“Is this what happened to your grandpa too?”

It was with a sudden intuition that Jungkook asked such a question.

“This…and a little more.”

Jungkook slumps down to the floor, looking past his shoulder at Taehyung, silently motioning him to come hold him.

Reading the silence without hesitation, the older boy crawls forward and envelops him in his embrace, keeping him tucked beneath his chin as two hands grip the underside of his arms. He shields the boy’s gaze away from the bodies, knowing that the first time is always the most poignant despite him taking it so well.

“They’ll know it was us.”

Taehyung brushes Jungkook’s bangs back and tucks the ends behind his ear.

“They’ll find us even if we left.” Jungkook continues. Without looking, Taehyung can hear the pout in his voice.

“Are you worried?”

Jungkook nods, fingers palming the thick ropes of muscle beneath his grip.

“Don’t be,” Taehyung chuckles, his long fingers brushing over the small sensitive patch of skin just behind the boy’s earlobes. “I’ll take care of you.”

Jungkook decides to take a long, cold shower after ending the call with you. It concerns him that you sounded exhausted over the phone but he expected it anyway as you’ve been working far too much this week. Your voice, so soft and gentle, makes him semi-hard enough that he finds himself palming the length of his cock under the running water to relieve his frustrations. It had taken him a substantial amount of self-control to refrain from asking for more time in the bedroom these days. As sweet as you are allowing him to nestle inside you and nuzzle you when you were too tired and sleepy to move, your exhaustion ultimately lead him to tucking you in his arms and make sure you at least get some sleep. God, how he wishes for you to run your hands over his chest and arms now.

Jungkook twists the shower knob into the wall and ruffle his dripping hair. He slides the glass door to the left, heaving a soft sigh as he examines the surface of the tub, the toilet, and the sink. The smell of sanitizing lemon cleanser still lingers in the air but he knows the scent will be long gone by the time you’re back from work. Next to the polished sink, he prepared a small basket of bath supplies – jasmine-scented bath salts, dried flowers, and a heart-shaped sponge – for you to pamper yourself when you drag your feet through the front door looking like death. Work has been rough on you and he was more than happy to handle all the responsibilities at home that you sometimes habitually do.

He grabs the towel folded over the slightly rusted rack erected next to the shower curtain (he reminds himself to replace that) and wraps the fluffy material around his waist. Stepping out of the shower, he grabs his cellphone just in time for it vibrates aggressively in his grip.

Head tilted to one side to make sure the moisture at the ends of his hair doesn’t drip on the surface, he answers the call with a smile.

“Tae!”

“Is she pregnant yet?”

Jungkook exhales softly, a smile dancing on his lips. The older Taehyung gets, the less he beats around the bush. “Not yet but she’ll be fertile next week, I think I’ll have better luck soon. How’ve you been? Jimin told me you were in Cuba…and Hong Kong too.”

He hears a sigh over the speakers and chews on his bottom lip. Oh, Jimin is going to get an earful for sure for blabbering his business around.

“I had to deal with a few people…listen,” his voice lowers suddenly, “has anyone approached you or your girlfriend recently?”

Jungkook walks into the bedroom, turning off the bathroom lights with his elbow on the way out. He sits at the edge of the bed, combing his hair back until the droplets trail down his spine and shoulder blades.

“Not that I know of,” he shakes his head, “why do you ask?”

When Taehyung doesn’t reply immediately, a pang of anxiety wraps his heart in a vice grip.

“I-is there someone after me?” He grips his phone.

A few thousand miles away, the older man shakes his head, re-evaluating what he needs to hide or reveal. He wants Jungkook to be prepared for emergencies but after discovering that this Kim Seokjin person is in the same city and, out of a strange coincidence that may not be a coincidence, worked in the same building as you, he’s come to a logical conclusion that makes the situation unpredictable. A basic background check tells him that Seokjin no longer works for the government nor does he have permission to access private health and criminal records of strangers. It explains why the man needed to contact Hoseok and Yoongi. The motive behind such an unethical behavior could also be because of you, Taehyung guesses when he scrolled through Seokjin’s social media profiles to see more than a few pictures of him and you at cocktail parties and birthday gatherings. It did not take much deduction to understand that Taehyung is staring at the jealous male figure that his closest friend complained of lingering around his precious noona. Perhaps the man is using unethical means to dig for the literal skeletons in Jungkook’s closet?

However, if Jungkook sees the man as a threat and if Seokjin has evidence in his possessions, why has neither of the men taken drastic action? Jungkook is far too immature (Taehyung admits) to not consider using his services to take care of a male threat. He seems unusually at peace with you now, leading Taehyung into a wall. If Jungkook isn’t truly threatened and if Seokjin hasn’t acted yet, the former agent is probably smart enough to realize you’re not worth the trouble of dealing with a criminal. The contents of Jungkook’s case must have scared him off. Yes, that’s it.

Taehyung mentally slaps himself on the forehead for not thinking through before calling and worrying the boy.

“Tae? Are you still there?”

That bug he planted in the software used to track juvenile criminal cases lent him more paranoia than relief. There were numerous times Jungkook and his files were accessed by agents that were actively filtering or attempting to study old cases to his annoyance. Maybe the pictures scared Seokjin off for good. Two weeks is too long of a wait to expose a man when there’s an abundance of evidence.

“You don’t have to worry. I was asking because someone messed up a shipment and my customer isn’t very happy. Sent some threats that sounded a little too serious than the usual.”

Jungkook exhales a breath he doesn’t know he’s holding. “…I mean…it sounded serious enough to worry you. Should I keep watch? Should I tell Jimin?”

“No, no need for that. I called to check, just in case. You know nothing is guaranteed in our line of work.”

The thought makes Jungkook upset. Nothing is guaranteed, but he hopes your devotion and Taehyung’s safety is. He doesn’t know what he’ll do without the both of you.

“Okay…” Jungkook looks down at his toes clenching into the floor. “You’ll tell me if there’s anything wrong, right?”

To that, Taehyung replies quickly. “Of course. We’re brothers after all.”

He smiles to that, brushing his locks back and standing. He makes his way towards the closet, fishing out a pair of black sweatpants and a matching cashmere shirt.

Hearing the ruffle of clothes through the phone, Taehyung makes the decision not to tell you about Kim Seokjin after all. With the expectation of pregnancy and Jungkook’s proneness to jealousy, he didn’t need more work on his plate. Despite the brotherhood, they each had their own lives after all and constant surveillance of the past would do more harm than good, reopen wounds that have longed healed.

“I’m catching a flight, I’ll call you later.”

“Okay,” Jungkook beams. He suddenly looks forward to the day he’ll introduce Taehyung to you if there’s business that needs to be done in the city. “Bye, Tae-”

The doorbell rings, prompting Jungkook to turn towards the opening where he can see past the living room to partial front door. By the time the bell rings a second time, Taehyung has already dropped the call. Jungkook makes his way out of the bedroom slowly, keeping his feet light.

Taehyung has already reassured him that there was nothing to worry about. Being approached by someone seems unlikely if this customer of his had expressed similar threats in the past. Yet, somewhere in his gut, he couldn’t fight the feeling that there’s something he isn’t noticing. And the answer to that feeling might be on the other side of the door.

When he reaches the panel, he presses the button next to the monitor to reveal the image of a neatly dressed middle-aged woman carrying a small, wrapped box in her hands. He can tell just from her clothes that she belongs to this part of the town – her posture itself reflects wealth and respect.

It took a few more blinks until he realizes who he’s looking at.

Mother-in-law!

The door opens with a loud clang, causing the woman’s head to snap upwards at the tall man smiling down at her. She notes his damp hair and handsome features – doe eyes, a button nose, pink shapely lips and aristocratic cheekbones. You sure know how to pick your men.

“Are you…Jungkook?” The woman inquires.

He nods eagerly, stepping to the side. “Yes, you’re noona’s mother, right? Please come in.”

He notices the hesitation followed by a pair of Celine heels clicking against the polished floors. He mentally rewards himself for dedicating the morning to polish the bathroom, the kitchen, and the parquet. The house smells a bit like lemon but the balcony carried the scent of orange blossoms that masked the unpleasant sharp notes of artificial fruit.

The woman’s eyes move across the living room, eyebrows slightly raised as if she was bracing herself to witness a pig sty instead of a home.

“What time does she get off work?”

Jungkook closes the door and hovers an arm across her back to lead her towards the sofa. She’s about the same height as you, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulders. He silently hopes the furniture doesn’t smell like sweat as he’s been melting there with the television on for the first half of the afternoon.

“A-about nine, she’s been working overtime for this week.” His knees hit the side of the couch but any hint of pain is overridden with the need to impress. “Please take a seat, I’ll bring you some water.”

“Thank you,” she smiles, although the light doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

Jungkook backs slowly towards the kitchen and then jogs to the fridge, yanking the door open and fetching a cool bottle of water. His hands shake when he fishes a glass from the dish rack, making sure he chose the glass without the uneven bottom. He should have refunded the entire set months ago when it came with such a frustrating defect.

He quickly pours into the cup and wipes any stray droplets on the side of the glass with the back of his hand. She thanks him under her breath when he sets the cup in front of her with a wooden coaster propped underneath. She takes the glass in her hands and take a small sip, smacking her lips together as if she’s tasting wine.

Jungkook struggles to look for the right words to say.

“I brought marinated crabs,” she thrusts the neatly packed box towards him, “I think you’ll enjoy it.”

Jungkook’s smile couldn’t have been any larger as he takes the wrapped box from her with both hands. “Thank you so much…I’m sorry I don’t have anything prepared. I wasn’t aware you were coming.”

At that, your mother clears her throat. “I came to talk to you about my daughter. Without her knowing, you see. I’m sure you know we…haven’t been on speaking terms for a while.”

Jungkook nods, placing the box on the table and gathering his hands in his lap. Despite keeping close watch on your every move, he’s kept in the dark about your family situation. He only remembers you shaking with laughter and tears when hearing about your mother maintaining close ties with the Kim family after what happened. Even though the woman hurts for her daughter, financial ties are hard to break.

“…Yes, I’m aware.”

The older woman sighs softly, dragging her gaze across Jungkook’s expression and posture. The boy certainly is polite but it was obvious he was not from the kind of world you’re from. She can tell by the way he fidgets and seem too eager to please; it was endearing but also pathetic to watch. He’s extremely sweet and charming – she admits – and overwhelmingly so. Unlike Namjoon, he seems to be much more expressive and sensitive.

She can understand why you took such a liking to him, why you could overlook the not-so-pleasant behavior that reveals his poor upbringing.

“I wanted to come to tell you…I found someone for her.”

He smiles, not understanding the woman for a few moments until her solemn eyes met his. He can feel his belly clenching as his stomach drops. He must have misheard, that’s it. “I-I’m sorry?”

Your mother takes another sip from her glass, looking around the house once more, as if she were stalling time, before planting her eyes on Jungkook’s appalled expression. She seems guilty, at least, that she’s said such a thing to the boy although she’s never once held a high opinion of him.

“I’ve been looking for a suitable partner for her.” She continues. “I am aware she is rightfully upset with me and she won’t listen to me, much less talk. I know she was seeing several men before she became…serious with you.”

Jungkook can feel his stomach churning.

“You must know by now what kind of family she comes from. There are some…things that are expected of her to respect our traditions. I know it’s entirely unfair of me to-”

Jungkook stands, turning away from her as he brings a hand up to his mouth. His temples pulse with nausea as her voice grows louder.

“-come here and ask for you to understand! What you did to Namjoon did irreversible damage to my daughter’s reputation and as a mother,” she shakes her head from side to side, “I can no longer sit still and watch her make a terrible mistake”

“I…” Jungkook starts, his heart hammering in his chest. “What I did to him…I would never do to noona. I’d never hurt her o-or even think about doing such a thing.”

The woman sighs, her eyes devoid of warmth. “I know, darling. I do trust that the incident happened because you were protecting her feelings. I can appreciate your sentient. However,…she’s my only child. As a mother…as her only parent…I have to make sure she’s on the right path.”

Jungkook turns, his eyes glazed as he bores into the box sitting on the couch. This wasn’t a present given for pleasantries, it was brought to cushion her true intentions.

“Jungkook…” The woman stands to stretch her arms out and hold Jungkook’s hands under her warm palms. He’s paralyzed, whether or not it’s from her insulting logic or from her general disapproval of him, she doesn’t care to know.

“I’m not your enemy. I know you love my daughter, I’ve heard of how much you’ve taken care of her. Please understand that-”

His ears are ringing. Jungkook can feel himself shrinking under her gaze. He couldn’t even bring himself to be angry because he knows, deep down, how incompatible he is with you considering the two very different lives you both have led. Did you phone your mother for the first time in months behind his back after he told you about his past? Did you pretend to be okay even if it scared you?

It’s like your mother reached into his core and pulled every shred of insecurity he carried within him. Every night for the last few months, he felt like he was given permission to consume the forbidden fruit that is you, knowing there are consequences to his consumption. Your devotion, your promises, your endless compassion towards him – is it all going to turn into a mirage?

He knows since the very beginning that in many ways he’s incomparable to Namjoon and even some of your rebound lovers he had the displeasure of following around. A glance at a man’s wristwatch and he could tell whether they belonged to your world or not. Jungkook can only hope that the struggles he’d faced would give him the leverage others don’t have. He is willing to risk it all for you and make sure you won’t ever have to experience a single morsel of pain he’d endured.

“Can you give me a chance?” Jungkook pleads, voice small.

Suddenly, anger flashes across your mother’s face but as quick as it came, it disappeared. He could tell she was struggling to keep herself in check after several months of you ignoring her calls, her incessant demands to maintain the family image, and the burn of needing to sneak around your schedule to reach your new apartment herself. It’s the pent-up frustration of having the family pride stepped on again and again by you that has led her to this moment.

If he were your guardian, he’d also be worried too. He can forgive your mother just as he had forgiven you many times.

“A chance?” She fumes.

Jungkook nods. “I promise I won’t disappoint you…I-I have a business and I’m more than willing to be the sole provider-”

The woman’s hand tighten around his relaxed fists.

“Jungkook,” she grits. “You are not hearing me. I don’t want her marrying into a family out of our circle. We have an established tradition of-”

Jungkook scoffs, ripping his hands away. “No, ma’am. You are not hearing me.”

Her eyebrows come together as her foundation-covered wrinkles deepen with a frown. She watches Jungkook walk across the living room to the hanging picture of you and your father. You were a mere child then, staring naively up at your late father with wonder as your little fists reach up to take the glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.

Digging his hands inside his pocket and running his tongue over the inside of his cheek, he turns to the woman.

“I’m asking for a chance because I’ve already decided to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

#bunny:fic #yandere bts #yandere fanfiction #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #bangtan fanfiction #bangtan angst #bangtan smut #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts fanfic #jungkook x reader #only you #chapter 8 #i had to make a super hard decision to take out the smut that I wrote like over a thousand words for *WHEEEZEEEEE*#there will be smut in OY9 tho i GUARANTEE #pls don't come for me with pitchforks lmfao

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fallin-4-ya · 4 years

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The Follies and Vices of You

cedric diggory x reader- part iv of series

based off the novel and film ‘Pride and Prejudice’ by Jane Austen

summary: Being the beloved sister of the incredibly wealthy Mr. Potter, you felt no need to rush into marriage. But one day, when you come to meet a new acquaintance, the proud Mr. Diggory, your views of love and follies change.

warnings: a bit of angst & tension! (gif is not mine, credit to owner!)

part i, part ii, part iii, part iv, part v

‘Maybe it’s that I find it hard to forgive the follies and vices of others, or their offenses against me. My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.’ -Jane Austen

The month of January passed dreadfully slow, as you waited for something interesting to happen. As the snow fell softly onto the ground, thoughts wondered through your head rapidly, most of them involving Mr. Diggory. In fact, he occupied your mind most days. How dreadfully awkward that poor man is, you pondered, and yet how confident. His character never made sense to you, as awfully as he appeared on the outside, you could tell there was much beneath his many layers. But your thoughts were soon interrupted by a knock on the door, it was the post.

‘From Miss Ginerva, Miss Y/N.’ You smiled and nodded thankfully. Excited, you ripped the letter open and the inside read,

My Dearest Miss Y/N, I hope my letter find you very well. How dreadful these past few days have been, for all of this snow has made me think of nothing besides summer time. I was invited to stay at my brother Bill’s until the end February; Miss Hermione Granger will be attending alongside me, to encourage sisterly bonding. I am sorry to hear that Mr. Malfoy has resided back to his home up north, but I do hope that he continues to write you such pretty verses. I shall be home before the flowers bloom. Be well.

Much love, Ginerva

You sighed thinking of how even more boring the next few months would be without the company of a most dear friend.

Now that Mr. Malfoy was sent back home, the house was quieter than ever. Between Harry managing the estate, Sirius writing business proposals and Mr. Lupin locked up in the library; you felt most unentertained and gittery. Letters began being sent to you the day after he left, expressing a fondness for you, which kept your boredom to a minimum. You thought long about the letters exchanged between you and Mr. Malfoy; Ginny was certainly right in saying the verses were beautiful. She also urged you that there would soon be a proposal on the line if he kept with the letters, though you secretly hoped it wouldn't be anytime soon.

The next evening, to much of your excitement, you were joined by Mr. Fred and George Weasley for dinner, who were in the company of nobody other than Mr. Diggory. Reaching a hand out for each of the Weasley men, they took it graciously planting a kiss upon it. Extending out to Mr. Diggory as well, he ignored your gesture and simply bowed in your direction. After the questionable gesture from the latter of the men, you lead them to the dining room, where the rest of your family awaited.

The evening was going splendidly, much laughter and wide smiles reigned. That was, until a letter arrived addressed to you from Mr. Malfoy. You excused yourself from the table, to retire to the parlor to read it.

Blushing profusely and smiling at the beautiful verses addressed to you, unaware of the floorboards that creaked viciously behind; you sat on the armchair nearest the window of the parlor. You heard a throat clear at the doorway and shot your head up.

‘Mr. Diggory! I am so sorry, I mustn’t have heard of your following.’ Humming to yourself, you gazed out the window, ‘I do love this time of the year, Mr. Diggory. The snow is nothing short of lovely.’

‘Yes, Miss Potter, I do agree that the snow is very beautiful but I must interject and beckon you about some-‘

‘He’s thought to propose, you know. Mr. Malfoy that is. Quite strange, isn’t it; how young girls go to young women with only a proposal.’ You unknowingly interrupted in your dream state.

‘Miss Potter, I truly cannot help but to interject; however, there is a matter of urgency I’d like to discuss.’ Mr. Diggory huffed. Being pulled out of your trance, patience grew thin, you turned your head and snapped, ‘What is it, Mr. Diggory, that you feel so inclined to interrupt me for?’

‘Its addressing Mr. Malfoy. You see I am afraid I must interject on a most sensitive discussion topic.’

‘If you have anything negative to say about Mr. Malfoy, I must urge you that I'm the last person who would be inclined to hear it! And if you have some here to ruin my evening, I am afraid I won’t allow it.’

With that you grabbed your coat and trekked out into the falling snow. Footsteps not far behind you, you sped up; unwilling, or rather unwanting of hearing what anybody had to say. The crunching of snow only following you farther, as you followed the angelic pathway to the stone pavilion in the graden. You threw your back against the wall, sighing out deeply. Without a moment of peace Mr. Diggory entered your presence.

‘You cannot marry him’

You were taken aback by his sudden bluntness. Exasperated by his cultivated occurrence of strange actions you cocked your head at him.

‘May I ask you why, Mr. Diggory?’

‘The Malfoy family is least cordial, completely unattached and deranged from society. They are completely unsuitable for a family such as yours.’

‘A family such as mine?! Have you come here to separate an engagement or to insult my family, Mr. Diggory? Or rather, does your sudden interest in my affairs have anything to do with your dislike towards Mr. Malfoy; because believe me, Mr. Diggory, I know well of your disputes with the poor gentleman and will not stop an engagement from happening due to your pride and arrogance.’

‘No, Miss Potter! You know perfectly well that I find your family most respectable. I just find their family uncommony stiff for your reckless behavior.’

‘Reckless behavior! How dare you insult not only my upkeeping but a personality of another. Have you forgotten the follies and vices of you, Mr. Diggory? For who are you to judge another?’

‘Miss Y/N, has it ever occurred to you that you may be too harsh on me or perhaps my light on you may have been caused by the misjudgment of one’s character? I beg of you to enlighten me on why you find me the most disagreeable man.’

‘Well then, I beg you, Mr. Diggory, why you wish to separate a young couple who have grown quite fond of each other?’

‘Because I love you.’

There was a lull and Mr. Diggory halted. ‘I love you most ardently and I could not have you go another day more without you knowing of the likeness I have for you.’

You stood in silence, snow falling ever so godly on you both, speechless. Words clouded your mind, and you wanted to scream, and cry, and love, and erupt all at the same time. But rather than doing any of them, you looked back on him with a haze in your eyes.

‘I would not marry you if you were the last man in the world.’ You said walking away, allowing a tear slip silently from your face.

The next day there was a knock on your bedroom door early in the morning. Mr. Diggory walked in humbled and shy, ‘Miss Y/N, I’ve come to leave this for you. I hope you do me the honor to read it. Thank you much for your time.’

You had not even reached his gaze, for he spoke for too quickly and you were far too angry. Staring at the enveloped with a tear stained face for nearly an hour, you decided to open it.

Dear Miss Potter,

I hope my letter finds you in good health. I do not wish to impose on you again what I have said last night; for I am writing to you today not to remind you of said words, but rather converse upon the accusations you have brought upon me. I urge you that everything in this letter is the truth and have many to testify upon it.

Mr. Draco Malfoy and I had been connected since infancy, for his father, Lucius, and mine worked exceptionally close together. However, as Mr. Malfoy grew he became reckless; he gambled a large portion of his father’s money away and took no responsibilities seriously. Soon thereafter, his father wrote him out of his will, leaving nothing to his son. Mr. Malfoy became desperate for an inheritance; my father later offered him a job which he begrudgingly took. However, not more than seven months of work, he confessed a most passionate love to my sister. It did not take long for us to realize that he was only after her fortune for she was to inherit seven thousand pound a year. She was thirteen at the time and utterly heartbroken.

When my sister had gotten sick mere months later, my mother and I moved to London alongside her to get the best medical help. Unable to access our money without my father present, Mr. Lucius graciously lent us the sum of the bills. Unfortunately, my sister passed with just two months of treatment; she was truly a remarkable young woman. After the mourning, we paid what was due back to the Malfoy family; but for Mr. Draco Malfoy it was not enough. He hounded me for more money; knowing his dispositions I had given him the sum of his ask in hopes that he would become something of himself. He gambled the money away in two weeks. After that, I refused to give him anymore money, cutting him off for good.

Miss Y/N, I am terribly sorry to force the burden of the truth onto you, but I just felt that you ought to know. Please do keep the affairs containing my sister private, as I believe it be a disgrace to her memory to attach her name to one like his. Thank you for the time we have shared.

Yours, Mr. Cedric Diggory

(author’s note: oh my goodness! end of part 4!!! ending on a bit of a cliff hanger... i can't wait for you all to read the final chapter, which will be out soon! as always, let me know if you’d like to be part of this tag list! thank you as always for reading!)

tag list: @freddieweasleyswife @truly-insatiable @annasdani @mullthingsoverinthehotwater

#Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter headcanon #cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory x you #ginny weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #Draco Malfoy #Ron Weasley #hermione granger #pride and predujice #jane austen #draco malfoy x reader #sirius black #remus lupin

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tosikoarts · 4 years

Text

SFW Alphabet | Kikuta

Ogata is next. You can check tosikowrites tag for more. Warning: there’s a lot under the cut.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Kikuta is so serious that it comes off extremely funny. He hasn’t been in a stable relationship for quite a while so getting back in the game gives him headache and upset stomach. For a person that pompous, with a damn jacket made of collected guns, he acts awkwardly sweet and romantic, and he is also a little afraid that it will push his potential partner away. In short, Kikuta is a mess.

Opposite to his own state, Kikuta wants to bring peace to his loved one’s life. He tries to pull off image of ideal man, one that will take off his jacket and cover a puddle with it just for his partner to stay clean. Seeing encouragement makes him more confident, less nervous, and therefore more refined. You’ll be drowning in attention, gifts, praise. Later, Kikuta gets comfortable with his own clumsiness and awkwardness and just laughs it away.

Relaxing together is a must. Impromptu rest in hot springs, not in those controlled by establishments, but in wild ones, is a great example. Reading aloud? Yep. Chilling under the blankets? Yep. Massages and back rubs? Yep. Kikuta manages to make everything wholesome. Thankfully, war couldn’t kill his kindliness.

He voluntarily takes on the role of a guardian angel to protect his loved one from world’s harshness. Kikuta wouldn’t want them to see what he has seen - pain, cruelty, disease - so he made it his goal to improve himself and the world around.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

The highest possibility of becoming Kikuta’s friend is either being soldier of 7th division or being nurse that patched him up few times. He is rarely seen out of his missions so chances to get acquainted with him randomly on a street are low.

Kikuta is the friend that bails you out of problems, no matter how serious they are. In a street fight, he will kick any thug’s ass and make them beg for mercy. If you lose the bid while gambling, he will offer his own money and give you a chance to win some back. Overall, you can always rely on him.

Get ready for philosophical conversations over the glass of whiskey. He likes to talk on a variety of topics, especially abstract ones, like life and death, moment and eternity, love and hate. Most of the reasoning comes down to Kikuta’s military experience but can you blame him for it? Many allegories with weapons: “time flies like a bullet”, “life is just being at gunpoint without realizing it”, etc.

Most likely, he will be looking for a person whom he can serve as a father figure. Kikuta needs someone to look after thou he will rather die than admit it.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Kikuta has to be in specific mood to initiate cuddles and receive them. If he is busy, he will give his partner a faint smile and ask them to wait a little. Surprise, he doesn’t like spooning since it deprives him of the possibility of seeing their adorable face. Half-spoon sounds good and gives more opportunities like kissing his loved one in the top of their head or ruffling their hair. Honeymoon hug is the all time favorite that he likes to initiate right before falling asleep.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Mediocre in both cooking and cleaning, but, boy, does he want this domestic life? Absolutely. Kikuta dreams about getting away from military, finding a new, maybe, not that exciting, stable job, and settle down with his favorite person and few pups. Hardly anyone knows about it, but thought about a small yard where one can sit and watch the slowly falling leaves in autumn or play in a first snow with his own child in winter makes him so soft. Waking up in the comfort of own bedroom, cooking dinner for the whole family, wandering around his own house… Kikuta can’t wait for it.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Comprehensive information about the break-up will be presented at its best in oral or written form. Kikuta addresses everything they are interested in, from reason to the wish to stay friends since his care for their feelings is infinite and he wouldn’t want to leave them without proper closure. After parting ways, Kikuta gives them space to recollect themself, let off the steam, and recover but he plans to come back in their life as a good friend (if they are okay with that, of course).

Kikuta is one of the people that got your back even after bad break-up. You could throw a tantrum, tell how much you hate his guts, and still he will check up on you, protect your name behind the back, and treat you with the same respect as always.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Typical traditional looks on marriage, would want to get married after 1-2 years of relationship. After the appearance of attachment, Kikuta can’t imagine himself with anyone else even if there is a more suitable partner right under his nose. His trust in them is immeasurable: their worst flaws do not don't bother him that much, and when they do, Kikuta tries to gently persuade his loved one into more appropriate behavior. Their past doesn’t matter either unless it is associated with straight-out high treason. Like he doesn’t justify anything but doesn’t seem to emphasize attention on the past wrongs. He is one of the most committed man around, really.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

You have to have Kikuta’s heart set on you for him to show the gentle side. He is polite, it's true, he knows how to court person, but he must force himself to put tenderness in action. Good news: it works like a physical exercise. The more often you do this, the easier it gets. Over time, Kikuta feels comfortable enough to call them pet names like angel or dearest, even in public, without worrying to appear vulnerable.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Not the biggest fan of the hugs, but likes to put one arm around loved one’s shoulder. There is no particular reason, Kikuta is just too awkward when someone hugs him. Only his fingertips land on their back or waist, never the whole palm, and he tries to keep some space between them too. The exception to the rule is first meeting after long time apart when Kikuta wants to press them into himself, hold them as close as possible, and live this moment to the fullest.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Hard to say. If Kikuta sees frivolous attitude on their part, if he feels that he is just another pit stop on the road of their love victories, he will keep confession for someone else. Also, Kikuta either chooses the best romantic moment to confess or does it in the most awkward inappropriate time possible, no in between. After this, he is still hesitant to throw sweet words to the left and to the right but he eventually thaws and turns in the softest man, muttering sweet nonsense in his loved one’s ear.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Kikuta can be characterized as selectively jealous with a high threshold of tolerance. He has few people he wouldn’t want see his loved one around and he doesn’t care about everyone else, seeing them as unworthy opponents. One of the chosen people is Usami. Despite belonging to the same division, Kikuta doesn't trust him one iota. Superior private irradiates chaotic energy and aggression that easily can transform into harassment just to annoy Kikuta and bug him. Another one would be Tsurumi, known for the persistent love conquest and violent ways of achieving his goals. The last one would be Tsukishima, simply because he looks like a competitive man in his silent seriousness and devotion.

Poorly tolerates his loved one acting flirtatious, especially with three people listed above. His main coping mechanism is distancing which allows Kikuta to think about the situation and make sure he isn’t overreacting. After that, he decides to discuss the problem since he does want to make this relationship work.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Sensual kisser. He starts out as a man who knows what he is doing, skillfully and gently, and grows pretty demanding over the time. Kikuta likes to kiss in a secluded environment where there is no need to worry about anything other than the person in front of him, completely surrendering to growing passion. Yep, lip biting, tongue sucking, everything at the right time and in the right place. Lip kisses are his favorite because Kikuta knows nobody does it better, okay, but he is down for anything else too. He likes to kiss his loved one on the neck as well as plant kisses on both of their hands. And where he likes to be kissed? Lips and, who would expect, clavicles, and chest.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Seeing little kid automatically makes Kikuta nervous since, despite the efforts made, he has difficulties in communicating with them. The only fear Kikuta has is not death, nor prison, it’s crying baby that won’t fall silent after few coos and short cuddle. After several unsuccessful interactions with kids, he wondered if he could become a good father in the future and self-given answer was depressing. If his loved one wants to have children with him in the future, they have to rake the mountain of his doubts.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Chances are you won’t catch Kikuta in the morning because of important business he has to run through the work week. Maybe, you will hear the sound of a slamming door or receding footsteps but nothing more. On the weekends, this man always wakes up earlier than his partner, and almost immediately gets out of bed. Half of the times there will be an easy breakfast waiting for you on the table, and the other half you’ll find Kikuta industriously doing varied housework Cuddles (or something more intimate) are rare, but Kikuta is more than willing to make up for it during the day.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Balances time at home and nights out well. Small dinner parties play great role in Kikuta’s life, he loves to invite guests to come over for a cup of tea and small talk or for whole evening of playing hanafuda. Kikuta isn’t the best host but with the help of supportive partner he will be more confident and better one. Spending time alone with the loved one, he likes to talk about the future and about anything at all, play games, or simply cuddle. If we speak about nights put, Kikuta is a big fan of Japanese theater, especially Western-derived shingeki that gained popularity in 1900s, and he insists going there at least once a month.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

First, he needs to get accustomed to the person, to observe their actions towards others so he can build an approximate image of them in the head. After the probationary period, Kikuta begins to gradually open up: his personality is revealed in short conversations over a cup of tea, in talk by the flickering fire, in single phrases like greetings or goodbyes. He often brings up old memories but needs a slight push to go deeper than nostalgic sighs. Never ever has word outburst so you’ll never hear information not meant for your ears.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Scarily cold-blooded when angry, but you have to push to piss Kikuta off, put some effort into it. He is used to deal with all kinds of people. Therefore, there’s already dozen of prepared lines of conduct that can be put to work when somebody is deliberately trying to mess with him. When angered, Kikuta’s first reaction is to shut the person up with one sentence if not a single word. Usually, it works. Sucks that it doesn’t when it comes to broken plate or spilled hellishly hot tea.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Here is the deal: good memorization doesn’t guarantee correct interpretation. Just like the case about the relationship between Ogata and Yuusaku, Kikuta may confuse something and come to the wrong conclusions, so often he chooses too subtly ask a leading question about thing that interests him. He is quite attentive and catches slightest changes in their behavior, listens carefully to the words they speak, but Kikuta can make a fool of himself once in a while. Like he forgot that they have a peach allergy (and he bought like 2 kilos) or they are scarred of big dogs (and he thought they would want to pet that sharp-toothed Kai Ken).

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment would be either proposal or moving in together. Both events mark a new stage in the relationship and keep him on the tiptoes. The day before Kikuta loses his composure: everything falls out of his hands, he cannot eat, cannot drink, cannot sleep because electrifying thoughts don't let him concentrate at all. The limbs seem foreign to him and Kikuta reaches new peak of awkwardness, tripping over his own legs. When the time comes, he is calm again. With the last bit of strength, he puts on a confident face and does his thing. The selected ring fits finger just right as well as his lips land exactly on theirs. After all Kikuta is absolutely sure of his choice and would not want to spend life with someone other than his chosen loved one.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

The closer the person gets, the more worried Kikuta becomes. You never know who is friend and who is enemy in the ongoing treasure hunt, who can stab you in the back because of newly devised action plan. To calm the soul, Kikuta may teach them self-defense both barehanded and with the use of firearms. Also, he is always straightforward about people to be careful with and people who can be trusted. For example, he will do his best to hide his loved one’s existence from 1st Lieutenant Tsurumi even if it means Kikuta has to stage their death.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Kikuta is your dream man when it comes to dates, he keeps things classy in the best sense of this word. Outside the military profession, Kikuta has the ability to appeal to the more refined side of himself and share his views with other. He is the one to take his loved one to historical museum or secluded beach at sunset, the one to look for a restaurant that follows Japanese cooking traditions that have been passed down from generation to generation. The only thing that can make him late is the doubts while choosing the best bouquet. On the anniversaries, there’s no tangible difference since he is used to spoil them with attention pretty much every day. Performs home tasks diligently as well.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Kikuta can be stubborn as donkey, godlessly, unapologetically stubborn. On some occasions he agrees with what another person is saying but still does it his own way, without any explanation, just because he thinks his option is better. It is more common in in the professional field but may pop up in domesticity too.

Speaking of work, Kikuta tends to over-work himself when case includes the thing that really interests him. Digging in paperwork brings him a feel of being needed and sense of stability, both of which are not always present in relationships with people. A person can drastically change his mind and words, stab you in the back, leave… but work? Work could never.

Kikuta can be a bore that wants to stay in one place, talk with the same people, speak out the same ideas. Such company will seem dull to over-active, expressive, and extraverted people.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Oooh, you can’t tell it from his face, but Kikuta takes good care of himself. Not a metrosexual, but a type that wants to be presentable at any time. His style is consists of neutral dark colors, smooth lines, as the opposite of his sharp facial features, and even his casual stubble is thought-out accessory. Probably carries his favorite comb in inner pocket to keep his hair smooth.

He has a collection of neckties for all occasions as well as he knows how to tie them in different, often whimsical ways. Kikuta would really like to pass on his knowledge to the son since in his imagination this is excellent example of cool father-son interaction.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Impeccable self-control helps to get though the loss partially. Right after the break Kikuta excuses himself and leaves. He needs fresh air and, maybe, cigarette. Or a drink. Or start his evening routine hours earlier than usual. Crushing awareness comes day later, when he cannot habitually hug his loved one or get an unexpected kiss on a cheek. Heartsore grows harder and goes away for weeks before Kikuta gathers strength to let them go. Restrains himself from relationship for year or two and secretly hopes they will come back.

If they were killed, Kikuta does not pursue the idea of revenge at any cost. He bears the loss steadfastly, self-reflects through long conversations with Ariko, and plunges in overtime work. If Kikuta gets a chance to cross roads with a killer, he will strangle him with them with bare hands, looking straight into the eyes, and watching their life slips away.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Kikuta is a dog person that has never in his life owned a dog. When a stray dog runs up to him on the street, Kikuta always scratches it behind the ear, and asks “who is the best boy”. While in army, he took care of fluffy mongrel that was sneaking around the military base until First Lieutenant Tsurumi ordered to get rid of it. Kikuta still has a dream to adopt few dogs with his loved one so they both can take care of them (and the puppies).

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Eccentric personas. The man is already working with Usami, he is already under tremendous pressure, okay? His psyche can tolerate one freak but no more. Eccentric persona does not mean a common person who has one or a couple of distinctive features. We all have specific oddities. No, we are talking about a walking circus, loud, bright, and defiant. Kikuta tries to avoid this type of people at all cost.

Outrageous rudeness makes him tic too. Ill-timed swearing, terrible table manners, inability to behave in society. Small annoying details add up to one big picture that Kikuta physically cannot ignore. He'll definitely try to change that in person.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Kikuta has an evening ritual he performs every day before going to bed. It starts with attentively checking if all the doors are closed, then he puts out the lights everywhere except bedroom and bathroom. While washing his face Kikuta makes plans for tomorrow. He revises them while choosing clean outfit for the next day and putting them next to his bed so in the morning he could instantly jump into his shoes, pull on pants, shirt, and run on important government affairs. Kikuta is mysteriously silent whole time. Attempts to break the silence with small talk result in short dry answers. This routine never changes, even if someone requires an urgent meeting, since repeated actions bring at least some stability to his life.

Calm sleeper until he has to share a bed with another person. Kikuta’s peaceful sleep turns into terrible insomnia, bags under his eyes start to resemble Tsukishima’s, and he feels just awful trying to explain another person that it is not their fault at all. Intensive training, special meditation, counting sheep do not work so he quietly lies on the back and listen’s to another person’s breath.

#golden kamuy #kikuta #golden kamuy headcanon #golden kamuy imagine #tosikowrites

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the-wlw-cafe · 4 years

Text

Limerence - A Westenray Fanfic

Rated: T

Summary: Five times Mina remained blind to the true extent of Lucy’s feelings, and one time Lucy was the one unaware.

Read it on AO3!

Lucy is nine years old when she’s first told that how she feels for Mina is considered out of the ordinary.

“When I marry, I want to marry a man who’s intelligent – and kind!”, Mina happily prattles along, her voice airy with excitement, still taken by the wonder of the stories they’d read just minutes before. The legend of King Arthur, old myths of chivalry and bravery, none of those modern novels their parents fret about. It’s still more than Lucy’s governess will allow her, afraid that her young mind might get lost among the pages.

“Be sure to stay on top of your reading then, an intelligent man won’t settle for a dull girl at his side”, Mina’s governess, Mrs Sheffield, replies, not unkindly – never unkindly, Lucy thinks with a slight pang of envy. Then again, someone as bright and kind and good as Mina would not give her governess many reasons to be unkind. It makes Lucy wonder why Mina’s parents would even have a need for a governess, since their daughter is already perfect. Lucky Mrs Sheffield must be envied by all her peers, getting to spend her entire day with Mina.

“What about you, Lucy? Who do you want to marry?”, Mina asks, and Lucy can feel two pairs of eyes burrow into her. Marriage. She can barely think about it without scoffing. She can’t stand any of the boys she knows, boys like Henry, the Fairfax’ son, who likes to pull Mina’s hair and kick against her shins under the table when his parents aren’t looking. If he is what a ‘fine young gentleman’ is supposed to be, she doesn’t want any part of it. He’s rude, snotty and rough. Unlike Mina.

“I don’t think I shall marry”, Lucy says. “I just want to stay with Mina.”

Mrs Sheffield can’t quite hide the way Lucy’s reply catches her off guard. Her features twist into a frown for just a moment or two, before smoothing over again.

“Well, I remember not caring for any of the boys when I was your age, too”, the governess offers. “You’ll change your mind when you’re older. It’s simply a matter of meeting the right man.”

Lucy can barely resist the urge to stomp her feet in an entirely unladylike display of frustration. She knows she won’t change her mind, and she doesn’t care one bit for the way Mrs Sheffield talks over her!

“Don’t pay her any mind”, Mina whispers to her once the governess has turned her back to them. She takes her hand and gives it an affectionate squeeze. “We’ll always stay together, even after we marry.”

Lucy doesn’t answer, because kind as Mina is, she just doesn’t seem to understand what she means, and Lucy doesn’t know how to make her friend see reason. So instead, she uses her sleeve to wipe at the tears that have sprung from her eyes unbidden. She knows herself better than any governess will ever know her, and she knows one thing above all: Never in her life will a boy be more important to her than Mina.

ii.

Lucy is 14 years old and it is getting increasingly difficult to look at Mina. It’s something she can’t quite explain, or perhaps she doesn’t dare to entertain the notion in her mind for long enough to form a conclusion. Either way, there is a strange atmosphere between them now, at least on Lucy’s part, and she prays that Mina doesn’t perceive it as well. Things that were as natural as breathing before, things that should be as natural as breathing have suddenly taken on a new grandness. Whenever they share a bed now she can barely catch a wink of sleep, her focus consumed entirely by Mina’s warmth and every point of contact between their bodies, making her heart race and her breath stutter. Whenever Mina, sweet, unwitting Mina changes in front of her she can feel an entirely unfamiliar heat rise until it becomes too much to bear and she has to avert her eyes. Sometimes she will look at her best friend and out of the blue the brunette’s beauty will steal the breath right from her lungs. Sometimes, her eyes will catch on Mina’s lips, and she wonders what it might feel like if she were to just lean in -

Perhaps Lucy is getting ill.

She fears she might be past any chance of recovery already.

Still, she needs to nip this, whatever it is, in the bud. She has no idea how to do it, but she’s locked herself in her room. She’s been refusing meals and company, because until she’s found a way to contain this, to push it into a corner of her mind so deep it can never come up again, she can’t be trusted around Mina. What if she does something thoughtless? What if, in one lapse of control, she’d find herself acting on her most secret impulses, destroying their friendship forever, branding herself a twisted pariah?

There’s a knock on the door, without the hesitation the servants often display when they attempt to coax her into accepting a tray of rapidly cooling dinner, and gentler yet than her mother’s knock. She knows it’s her before she even has the chance to announce her presence.

“Lucy? May I come in, please?”

She’s completely aware it’s a mistake, she’s aware in her state this might very likely end in disaster, but she is also aware that she will never be able to deny her friend a single wish. She strides across the room, steadily avoiding Mina’s gaze as she lets her in, as if the simple act of meeting her eyes would set her ablaze. Lucy can’t rule out the possibility that it might.

“Why have you been avoiding me?”, Mina asks.

“I’m sorry,” is all Lucy can come up with.

“The least you could do is not avoid my question”, her friend huffs, and even now, cornered as she is, Lucy can’t help how her heart swells with affection for hard-headed, iron-willed Mina. She opens her mouth, but despite usually being so quick to come up with quips it can’t find the words to express what needs to be said.

“Are we fighting? Was it something I said?”, Mina inquires further, her voice softer now.

That Lucy can’t abide by. She can’t let Mina believe this entire wretched situation is her fault, not for a second.

“Oh, sweet Mina, no! It’s me, it’s my fault, I just – it’s just…”, she trails off, cowardly, because even though it’s the right thing to do she can’t bring herself to ruin what she still has left. Lucy can see Mina open her mouth, to question her further, probably, but she seems to think better of it. Instead, she closes the gap between them, taking Lucy in her arms, and Lucy, curse her weakness, readily lets herself melt into the embrace.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at a loss for words, Lucy. Won’t you tell me what’s wrong? I worry about you.”

There was no way Lucy could hold the tears at bay now.

“I’m so, so sorry for making you worry”, she sniffles, letting herself be comforted by the familiar smell of Mina’s floral perfume. “And I can only apologize for shutting you out like this.”

“Don’t worry about all of that now. All I care about is your happiness”

“But you make me happy”, Lucy states, quietly. It is the profound truth: She’d never been so miserable in her entire life than the days she’s isolated herself, and these few minutes in her friend’s company seem to have healed her like molten gold seeping into the open cracks on her heart, filling up the empty spaces. Mina pulled back, brow furrowed, both of her hands coming up to gently cup her face, wiping away her tears with her thumbs. Lucy exhales a shuddering sigh.

“If that is true than I’m afraid you’re being very ridiculous right now”, Mina admonishes gently. “Because what you need right now is to not wallow in your own self-pity. You need a day on the town with your best friend to distract you from your murky thoughts, and maybe after you can tell me what weighs so heavily on your heart.”

It’s a wonder how Mina can’t see the adoration plainly written across her face as Lucy takes the hand that’s offered to her, already concocting a completely fabricated story about some young man breaking her heart to placate Mina’s curiosity about her disappearance.

“Nobody makes me as happy as you”, Lucy murmurs, and although the words are only meant for herself Mina picks up on them nonetheless.

“Then you can count yourself lucky that I won’t let you waste away in a sunless room, dearest Lucy. I’ll say, you really are dramatic sometimes.”

You’d understand if you knew, Lucy thinks, forgive me, but I pray you’ll never know.

iii.

She’s been confined to her bed in isolation for days now. At least she believes so, but her sense of time has been utterly shattered by drifting in and out of fevered dreams, with no way to tell the time of the day but from the light – or lack thereof – coming in through the window.

She wishes they’d just talk to her. In the beginning she was at least able to get some information from her mother when the doctor informed her of Lucy’s state in a hushed voice, like the uncertainty of what was happening to her would bring her any peace of mind. Most of the information she got was conveyed by her mother through worried glances, through the tight smiles and reassurances of “it’s nothing serious, you’re going to be up and about in no time at all” meant to bring her comfort, but only accomplished the opposite as she knew all of her mother’s tells. It was obvious Lucy was being lied to.

But it doesn’t matter now, not anymore, since the doctor has forbidden her mother from entering her room for longer than an hour a day, since he is convinced the visits cause Lucy nothing but distress. In reality, of course, nothing is more distressing than slowly watching the angry red rash of scarlet fever creep over her chest and arms in isolation.

In the initial state of Lucy’s illness, Mina did not leave her side at all, and now, after the doctor had to forcibly remove her from Lucy’s bedside more than once, she’s taken to sneaking into Lucy’s room at night. No matter how hard Lucy protests – or tries to, her throat feels too raw and tight to speak more often than not– stubborn Mina cares not for Lucy’s worries of the disease spreading to her, because apparently, the fever has made her quite contradictory: While she sends her friend away during her few hours of wakefulness, in her sleep she’s known to call out for Mina, no-one but Mina. What other secrets her feverish mind may lay bare Lucy does not dare think about, but since Mina keeps coming back to her the thing she fears most can’t have come to pass yet. How strange, she muses, that even as she is getting her throat painted with horribly painful tinctures twice a day it is this she frets over every minute of every waking hour.

She awakes to a darkened room only illuminated by the few candles that have not yet burned down, sunken into a chair by her bedside none other than Mina, sleeping. Lucy’s eyes drift downward to their hands, intertwined even in their sleep, and she can’t help but stroke the palm of Mina’s hand with her fingertips, tracing patterns over her delicate fingers, imagining herself lifting it up to her lips and kissing each one -

With a soft sigh, Mina rouses, and Lucy’s hand jerks back as if Mina’s skin had burned her. Her friend’s eyes dart around the room, disoriented, before settling on Lucy’s face. Lucy shudders inwardly as she imagines what a ghastly sight she must be, skin sickly pale with red splotches creeping up her neck, her eyes glassy from the fever. But in Mina’s gaze there’s no pity, only affection, and it alone makes Lucy want to cry.

“Lucy”, Mina breathes, her voice still thick with sleep. Despite her aching limbs Lucy lifts a hand and pushes against her friend’s thigh, weak but insistent. Keep your distance, she tries to convey. I couldn’t bear it if you were to get ill as well.

It’s a testament to their bond that Mina understands her without issue, even though all she has to say on the matter is “I won’t leave you alone, Lucy, so don’t even try to convince me otherwise.”

A hand comes to touch her forehead, and despite the fever Lucy can feel additional heat rise to her cheeks. Worry is clearly etched into Mina’s face.

“First and foremost, we need to keep your temperature down.”

Mina’s voice, calm and firm, brings her more comfort than her mother’s hushed reassurances ever have. There is a bucket of rags soaking in freezing water next to her bed, she hears it sloshing and closes her eyes, bracing herself for the icy touch.

“This is going to feel very cold”, Mina whispers, and the warning is more than the doctor has ever afforded her. In fact, it’s very likely that they’ve exchanged more words in the last minutes than the doctor ever has deigned to waste on her over the entire course of her illness. In fact, she’s not sure the doctor even knows her name – to him she might be called scarletina since he seems to regard her as nothing but her disease. Lucy gasps at the first touch of the icy rags to her heated skin as Mina carefully places them on her forehead with steady hands. Mina is knowledgeable about these things, she’s knowledgeable about a lot of things a young lady like her has no business being aware of. Her childhood passion for reading has only grown stronger the older they got, they’d soon turned to reading penny dreadfuls in secret, huddled together in bed way after nightfall, both of them trying to keep a brave face and yet almost jumping out of their skin at every benign noise of the mansion at night. Now she’s taken to sneaking into her father’s study, reading every medical journal she can get her hands on. She’d make a fine doctor, Lucy muses. Certainly better than the odious man in whose care she is now, although that might not be saying much.

Despite the burning sensation the cold rags inflict on her she feels her eyelids grow heavy and her mind grow sluggish with exhaustion.

“Mina”, she manages to croak.

“Shhh”, Mina admonishes, one wet hand cupping her cheek. “Don’t exert yourself too much.”

“Stay.”

It’s utterly selfish, but Lucy has proven to be nothing but a selfish creature. She craves the comfort Mina’s presence provides like she craves her next breath.

Lucy eyes have already closed, but she can still hear the smile curl around her best friend’s voice when she mutters: “I’ll stay for as long as you want me to.”

Always. I want you always, Lucy thinks, or maybe speaks. Everything hurts and the difference doesn’t seem to matter anymore.

“Then I’m afraid you’re stuck with me”, are the last words she hears before sleep pulls her under again.

iv.

Lucy would never have thought it possible to be so infatuated with a person that even their handwriting would seem endearing, but nonetheless she finds herself mindlessly skimming through Mina’s scientific notes, tracing the energetic curve of her gs, the elegant bow of her fs, and smiles at all the places the aspiring doctor has smudged the ink in her haste to capture every single ounce of knowledge on the page. It almost feels like she’s reading something private, like she’s intruded on her friend’s journal, but she can’t bring herself to stop. At least it distracts her from her worry.

Mina should have arrived from her studies half an hour ago. Lucy’s let herself into Mina’s room to escape the dreadful weather outside as if it were her own home. Considering the amount of time she spends there, it might as well be. Lucy glances at the clock. It hasn’t been a long time, even though it feels like hours, but Lucy can’t help the gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach that something might be wrong, that something is holding her up, that something has happened. With a huff, she closes the notebook. Maybe she’s just gotten used to being Mina’s first priority. Is this what she’s come to? Resenting Mina for chasing her dreams, dreams that she might have thought unattainable if it weren’t Mina who was pursuing them? She remembers the pride she felt when Mina told her through tears of joy that she’d been accepted into the medical society, as if her friend’s accomplishments were her own. No, she could never begrudge sweet Mina her ambition, as her drive is one of the most captivating things about her.

She hears footsteps rapidly approaching, a quick, decisive snap of heels that she’s come to associate with no-one but Mina. The door bursts open, and the smile that has snuck it’s way upon Lucy’s lips as it always does in Mina’s blessed presence drips from her face like the rain pelting against the windows as she sees the expression on her dear friend’s face. Jaw locked and eyes facing forward, fists clenched so tight her knuckles are whitening, she wears the expression of someone desperately trying to hold back tears of anger.

“Oh, Mina”, Lucy gasps, rushing to meet her friend, “what happened?”

“What happened?”, Mina hisses, smashing her books down on her bedside table. “I’m tired of being held to an entirely different standard than my peers and being made a fool of should I slip up even once!”

Of course. Men, Lucy thinks, they never miss an opportunity to prove my distaste for them right.

“One mistake!”, Mina rages. “One mistake, and it is grounds for having my suitability for this field of studies called into question! Explain it to me, Lucy, how a man can skip lectures to go gallivanting around town, reeking of liquor when he does deign to show himself only to fall asleep in his seat minutes later, and yet it is I to whom the professor recommends to re-evaluate their goals?” There’s fire in her eyes, and fervour in her voice, and Lucy feels equal parts pity for the men that dare challenge her not knowing the storm that they’ll reap, and equal parts a shameful longing to bear the brunt of her ardour, to be swept up completely by her force. The notion makes the blood rise to her cheeks and she knows she will guiltily revisit it later, alone in her bedchambers. For now, she pushes it aside, focusing on the Mina that is in front of her right now, in need of her support, not the fictitious version that inhabits her inverted fantasies.

“It’s because they are afraid of you. They are afraid of your intellect, your skill, your potential, and they’d rather wear you down and force you to give up on your dreams because they know you’re smarter than the lot of them combined. You threaten them, Mina, you threaten their entire view of the world with them at the top, undisputed. They see your excellence, and it terrifies them.”

Lucy is a bit breathless when she finishes, and she averts her eyes, suddenly embarrassed by her outburst and the palpability of her awe. Still, she won’t take it back, not a single word, because it is nothing but the truth and she needs Mina to know it.

Mina swallows, eyes burning with fierce determination. “I scare them? Good. I shall prove them right.”

And suddenly, Lucy feels quite dizzy. The silence between them stretches on, and, in an effort to fill it, Lucy blurts out the first thing that comes to mind:

“Before you do that, I do believe you’ve earned a little petty revenge. Remember that time I slipped ink into Henry Fairfax’ tea?”

Mina stares at her for a few moments, incredulous, before the tension breaks and she lets out the most endearing snort of laughter. To Lucy, no music could ever reach perfection such as this, and she’ll gladly make herself a jester if her reward shall be to hear this beautiful sound one more time.

“I mean it, I believe it improved his manners greatly.”

“Because he was too ashamed of his black teeth to speak!”

“From what I’ve learned, most men would be twice as amiable if they’d just keep their mouths shut.”

“Tempting”, Mina giggles, “but we’re not children anymore.”

Lucy pretends to sigh in disappointment. “You’re right, of course. It’s time we moved on from child’s play such as this. After all, as a soon-to-be doctor you of all people should know where to procure laxatives.”

“Lucy!”, Mina exclaims, playfully pushing her with just a little too much vigour, causing Lucy to stumble backwards, reaching out towards Mina as not to fall but only succeeding in knocking her off balance as well. For a few frantic moments they stay clutching at each other, swaying wildly like a pine at the mercy of a savage storm, before they find their footing again. Lucy closes her eyes, savouring each fleeting second before Mina will inevitably disentangle herself with a nervous giggle, shattering the strange intimacy of the moment. Yet her friend makes no move to do so. On the contrary, Lucy is startled to feel the weight of Mina gently resting her forehead on her shoulder. She can’t think straight. Her senses are awash with Mina’s warmth, the enticing scent of her perfume, the soothing rhythm of her breathing...she’s close enough for Lucy to feel each exhale warm against the skin of her neck. Is Mina aware how fast her heart is beating? She must be. It’s racing in Lucy’s ears like a pounding war drum. Lucy clenches her hands into fists until she can feel her fingernails painfully digging into her palms to distract herself, to keep herself from doing something as foolish as pressing her lips to Mina’s hair.

“Oh, darling Lucy, I do love you.” She’s so caught up in Mina’s bittersweet closeness that even after she feels her sweet friend’s lips form the words against her neck it takes a few moments for their meaning to sink in, and they bring with them a particularly painful ache. Not as I love you. The words are clear in Lucy’s mind, making her throat tighten and hot tears rise to her eyes.

“Sometimes it really does feel like you’re the only one in my corner as I’m opposing the rest of the world.”

Lucy doesn’t answer, can’t answer, for she fears her voice won’t obey her if she tries. So she settles on holding Mina a bit tighter, extending their embrace just a few moments longer, as to hide the tears are now flowing freely.

“I barely get to see you anymore.”

Mina’s right, of course. And it isn’t entirely owed to Mina’s medical studies, as much as Lucy would like to pretend it is the case. The truth is this: Lucy has been avoiding her. For her own sake, for her own sanity’s sake, because whenever they’re together now, he finds a way to insert himself into the situation, and the heartache is eating Lucy alive. So she’s been distancing herself, as a way of self-preservation. Best to get used to it now, she reckons, before the wedding, and the children that will follow, and the rift between them that will only grow further and further until Mina will realize that there is no more space for somebody like Lucy in her life.

“I’m sure Jonathan isn’t complaining.”

It’s a low blow and she regrets it as soon as it’s passed her lips. Not for fear of hurting Jonathan’s feelings, of course, but because now his presence is looming over them like a spectre even when he isn’t present. It’s the first sleepover Mina and her have had in weeks, a regular activity among them turned to a once-in-a-blue-moon occasion, and still she’s given him the power to worm his way into it. They’re lying right next to each other, close enough to touch, but there’s still a distance between them that was never there when they were younger. Now, they might as well be continents apart.

“Honestly, Lucy”, Mina hisses, propping herself up on her elbow and turning over to face her. “Must you paint Jonathan’s name black whenever you talk about him? What on earth could he have done to deserve such treatment from you?”

“What has he done? I find myself asking the same thing every hour of every day. What has he ever done for you, besides offering you support in name only, secretly hoping to make a docile housewife out of you yet?”

“You don’t know him like I do!”, Mina shouts, and it’s another thing that’s new between them, the shouting. They’d had fights before, of course, Lucy is convinced that two headstrong and intelligent individuals such as them can’t spend this much time in close proximity without quarrelling every so often, but their fights have become more frequent and more vicious.

“For all this time you’ve been seeing each other, I cannot think of one moment he took a stand for you!”

Not like I do, she catches herself thinking, and shudders immediately. How bitter she’s become. She can see Mina scrambling to come up with a response, but Lucy is too enraged to give her a quarter.

“Pray tell, Mina, what is one thing you admire about him? Hell, tell me one thing you like about Jonathan!”

Lucy slowly watches the anger in her friend’s eyes fade as the fight seems to leave her body and she turns away from her again, her gaze now fixed to an invisible point on the ceiling.

“He’s amiable”, Mina offers weakly.

“Oh, is that what they call a wet blanket nowadays?”, Lucy can’t help but scoff.

“He loves me”, Mina says, even quieter.

So do I, Lucy wants to say, Lucy yearns to say, but of course she can’t. She mustn’t. There are so many words inside her, emotions she’s repressed for so long, and she can feel them bubbling up, only a hair’s breadth away from spilling to the surface and ruining everything.

“He doesn’t deserve you.”

Nobody does, she wants to add, but her heart, her treacherous, foolish heart instead possesses her to say: “No man does.”

In a blink of an eye, the room is doused in an eerie quiet, as the weight of what she has just said settles in. Mina’s head whips around so fast Lucy might have feared for the muscles in her neck if she wasn’t frozen to the spot, panic gripping her insides with an icy grasp as Mina silently regards her with an expression usually reserved for the most difficult of riddles, like she’s a particularly challenging problem to solve. Lucy desperately tries to find a way to backtrack, to claim it was nothing but a silly joke, but the words die in her throat as with one fluid movement Mina leans in and -

Lucy closes her eyes, a soft gasp escaping her. This isn’t happening, this can’t be happening, there’s no way Mina is about to kiss her, and yet Lucy prepares herself for the gentle touch of soft lips on hers.

She’s proven right when Mina instead presses a kiss to her forehead.

Right. Of course.

Lucy would have laughed at herself and her inability to learn if she didn’t feel like crying. Of course Mina wouldn’t want to kiss her, why can’t she just accept it? Why must she torture herself with foolish hope?

The contact lasts for one second, maybe two, before Mina pulls back, completely wordless. Lucy, too, is stunned silent, even more so when her friend blows out the candle on the bedside table before burrowing into her side as if they were children again, sighing softly as she rested her head on Lucy’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Me neither”, Lucy croaks, leaning her cheek against soft brown hair.

She doesn’t sleep a wink that night.

vi.

She’s still holding onto the note as she enters the garden. She’s clutching onto it, balling it up and rendering it illegible. Not that it matters, she’s read and re-read it so many times by now she knows the words by heart. It’s not a great feat by any means, since the entire page is taken up by only two sentences, penned with a shaking hand in great haste:

Meet me in the gardens, urgently. Come alone.

- Mina

Lucy doesn’t want to come. She doesn’t think she can face Mina. But she also can’t stand waiting on her lonesome.

Lucy isn’t stupid, she knows the reason for Mina summoning her to meet her by herself. She’s noticed how they haven’t exchanged more than a few words ever since that night. She knows she’s pulled back the veil too far, she’s shown too much of herself and now this is the end of them. She can’t blame Mina, but it doesn’t stop her from wishing she could delay the inevitable for just one more day.

No man does, she’d said. The only way she could have been any more transparent would be to have physically thrown herself at Mina. She’s nothing but a lovesick, foolish girl, and she’s ruined everything she’s ever had because of one moment of weakness. And now, the moment to reap what she’s sown has come.

She’s so lost in thought she almost runs into Mina quite literally, who’s been rushing to meet her. Lucy takes one look at her friend and regrets it instantly: Her (former?) friend’s eyes are red-rimmed, like she’s been crying, and Lucy can feel the guilt that has been coiling in her stomach since she’s first read Mina’s note screws itself even tighter.

“Lucy”, Mina breathes, eyes wide, her fists clenching and unclenching with nervous energy she can’t seem to hold back. She doesn’t even wait for Lucy to respond to her greeting before words spring forth from her like a rushing waterfall: “I’ve been thinking about everything you told me.”

Whatever tentative flicker of hope Lucy might have had is mercilessly and wholly extinguished.

“Mina, I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am -”

Mina holds up a hand and she instantly falls silent.

“Please, Lucy, let me finish. I need to get this of my chest, and I fear that if I stop now I’ll lose the courage to go on.”

Lucy nods, numbly.

“Thank you”, Mina says with a fleeting smile, before visibly steeling herself.

“I broke off my engagement to Jonathan.” The words come out in one desperate rush, and she sighs, deeply, as if a physical weight has been lifted off of her.

Lucy is sure she must have misheard. “You did what?”

Mina doesn’t acknowledge Lucy’s outcry.

“I’ve thought about everything you’ve told me, and you’re right. And I knew I couldn’t carry on like this, I knew it wouldn’t be fair, neither to me nor to Jonathan.”

This is happing. It’s indeed happening and Lucy can’t help the overwhelming elation she feels. She ought to feel sorry for Jonathan instead, or worried for Mina, but in this moment she’s wholly taken by glee. Mina is free of him, they’re both free of him. Somewhere in the back of her head an ugly voice tells her that this doesn’t mean anything, that at the end of the day Mina will always remain unattainable and she will suffer through heartbreak after heartbreak, but this one time the voice is easy to drown out.

“I knew I couldn’t carry on”, Mina repeats, her voice softer now and filled with a kind of tenderness Lucy can’t begin to fathom. Mina takes Lucy’s hands in hers – she carelessly drops the balled up note on the ground – and holds them close to her chest. Her eyes are swimming in tears once more, but her smile is all the brighter.

“Not when my heart is completely consumed by love for another.”

In one sentence Mina has broken her. It’s as if the rug has been pulled from under her feet, leaving her to stumble backwards into darkness. Why does it even surprise her? Why does the notion of Mina, sweet, intelligent, wonderful, beautiful, incredible Mina being loved and desired catch her off guard?

“Do I know the lucky gentleman?”, Lucy asks with a smile that she’s sure doesn’t reach her eyes. She can feel hot tears building up behind her eyes and knows that she won’t be able to uphold this facade for long.

“Do you know- Lucy, you say the silliest things sometimes!”, Mina giggles, too wrapped up in her own love drunk joy to notice Lucy’s pain. It’s too much altogether, and Lucy wrenches her hands from Mina’s grip.

“I hope he makes you happy”, she manages to say before turning away sharply, fleeing this conversation to preserve whatever she has left of her dignity.

“Lucy, wait!”, Mina calls after her, but she pretends not to hear it. She doesn’t slow down, not even when she can hear energetic footsteps following closely behind her on the gravel path. Then, a hand grabs her wrist in a tight grip.

“Mina, let me go-”, she hisses, but she doesn’t get any further than that as she is interrupted by the insistent press of Mina’s lips on hers.

She doesn’t react, can’t react as her entire world shifts on its axis, and she’s still in a daze when Mina pulls back, an indeterminate amount of time later.

“Y-you’re mocking me.”, Lucy croaks. It’s the only possibility that makes sense. Mina knows, she’s found out and she’s chosen to tease her for her inverted, ill-fated, desperate love for her best friend.

“Oh, sweet Lucy”, Mina breathes, looking altogether stricken by the accusation. “Do you really think me so cruel?”

“I don’t know what to think!”, Lucy cries. She’s lost, everything she thought to be true proven false and vice versa, and she doesn’t know if she can trust her senses. She’s half convinced she’ll wake up in her bed any second now, alone, chasing the last remnants of another pleasurable dream.

“Then don’t think at all”, Mina murmurs, her hands tracing a feather-light path over Lucy’s arms, shoulders, and neck, before settling in Lucy’s hair, pulling her closer, slowly, giving Lucy ample time to turn away if she needed to.

She doesn’t, she just closes her eyes and lets herself be pulled in. Their lips meet again, softer this time, and the sensation still comes as a shock to Lucy. She gasps against Mina’s lips, and the breathy sound seems to spur her on even further, she starts moving against her with more urgency. It’s too much for Lucy’s fragile self-control, she can’t hold back anymore, and with a noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper she kisses back with equal ardour, arms looping around Mina’s back and clenching in the fabric of her dress, hands pulling closer, closer, impossibly closer.

Lucy can’t say how much time has elapsed when they finally break apart, breathless, resting their foreheads against each other. Lucy doesn’t dare let go, thinks she might never be able to out of fear the second she does Mina might drift away.

“Lucy”, Mina sighs. “Darling Lucy, I’m so sorry for how blind I was for all this time. You must think me so self-absorbed, to not notice your affections for me, and to string you along the way I did, Lucy, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think…”

Lucy gently brushes a strand of dark hair that must have come loose while they were kissing behind Mina’s ear. Her cheeks already hurt from smiling, she can’t remember a time she’s ever been as content as this.

“Then don’t think at all”, she parrots Mina’s earlier quip with a low chuckle, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“I believe we’ve both been blind", Lucy whispers, before pulling Mina into a kiss once more.

#westenray #nbc dracula #lucy westenra #mina murray #wlw fanfiction #please reblog if u liked it you have no idea how long i worked on this #also the research rabbit hole i went down while writing this is UNREAL

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blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Brother Dearest Pt 28

Four pages, all you needed was four pages. Staring at your typewriter you could all but feel Victor and James anxiously listening for any typing as you had excused yourself to get the first assignment completed. All the same you simply shook your hands and readied them on the keys to just type something.

‘Growing up in Brooklyn as the second child of two Irish immigrants little was spared on the grounds of artwork. Mom worked hard in her Nursing job in a TB ward balancing our care after Dad died. My older brother Steve got accepted to an Art course in Community College working on a paper in the comic department and selling sketches in the park for spare funds. While he chose photography and art to express himself our home showed very little flair past a sketch he drew on the walls mimicking a wall paper Mom loved. While the artwork I chose was not seen or appreciated by any but myself it had a profound effect on my family, or at least my memories of them.

At night when I was little my Dad used to teach me about the stars and the universe nestling them so tightly. When Mom had died and I was left to Steve’s custody I couldn’t have imagined the house so silent, and while he worked hard I would head to bed and stare up at those same stars.’

Near to tear inducing four pages of how those stars sat as a silent link to your absent brother while reminding you of the tales from your Father and hope that up in the stars above the city never visible outside of blackouts your Mother was watching over you still. The end of the paper rounding off that now that you owned the building you used to rent an apartment in, where in Teddy’s nursery you sketched those same stars in a means to instill that same hope and dreams in him reminding him of his family between summers and winters in Canada where your new extended family had showed you more stars than you had ever dreamed possible.

Exhaling softly you settled the paper on top of the others face down and sighed smoothing your fingers across your cheeks groaning to yourself. Clearing his throat James drew your eyes up to the mug he was holding, “We have cocoa.”

Victor added holding out a slice of pie making you giggle to yourself, “And pie.”

Both peeked their heads inside seeing you slide the pages off the desk to hold out for the smirking pair come to trade their treats for the pages. Near to tears the pair praised the impactful paper sure to express more than what your Professor had been expecting from her students. Once your paper was done to the sitting room on the main floor you went finding Whiskers in the library, barefoot in your skirt still with James behind you to prop you up smiling at the snuggling hold on you he watched your sketching the cat sleeping in an awkward position on an armchair in the library. Almost realistic impersonating a photograph by Victor’s first glance he stroked Whisker’s side and guided you to the living room where he draped awkwardly across the couch with a book making you giggle at the faked candid sketch to add to your stack.

Dawn reading with Teddy asleep splayed out on her propped up legs was next glad that once you had shared the sketch to learn Victor had taken a picture of it after having confirmed that your camera had fresh film in it and was ready for use. A sketch of a picture of Pepper and Olive when the latter was younger was also added to the mix along with a picture of the lake up in Canada to show that you could do landscapes as well after hearing you might have to sketch some of those as well. Dawn’s flower arrangement fell into the mix before you called it a day folding them into a manila envelope you added to your school bag alongside the camera. Dinner came next and helped to set it out to enjoy then clean up after surely followed by more cuddling afterwards.

Eyes shifted to Professor Randolph in his entrance to the teachers lounge with mug in hand ready for some morning coffee. The Latin Professor however lingered in adding sugar to his long enough to mutter, “Fair warning, there’s a storm a brewing, hormonal and heavy on wind.”

Elliot turned his head back to the coffee not realizing he had been the topic the night before and now was about to be confronted for his noticed favoritism of who they all had prized as one of the finest catches for their student body hopefully to not be poached by the male faculty for sport. Smoothly his coffee filled the mug for your Elocution Professor to say with a clearing of her throat and removal of her winged reading glasses left to dangle against her chest on their chain. “Mr Randolph,”

Grinning he turned adding a dollop of cream he set back down to head to his chosen chair, “Yes, Miss Marshall?”

Holding her resting grin she stated coyly, “I noticed yesterday you seemed to take well to our Miss Pear.”

“Oh yes, extraordinary mind, simply extraordinary. Everything I’d hoped she’d be reading up on her.” Settling into his chair and taking a timid sip from the scalding drink doing him no damage past what he faked for their sakes to seem meeker than he held the potential to be.

“Did you give an assignment yesterday?”

“Oh no, merely an introduction to Egyptian Mythology.” Lifting his mug he asked, “Why do you ask?”

“Well,” Shifting her hands daintily to overlap on her lap in a tick to face him full on, “Simply I took notice that you had walked her out yesterday in quite the, if I may say, excited conversation. I was merely curious if it was the topic of the project to stir up such an animated reaction from what I have heard to be a stoic student.”

After his sip seeing where she was going with this question he lowered his mug and said, “I believe I understand your meaning, and if you are trying to infer I might be taking any inclination of a romantic interest in Miss Pear,”

Her lips parted, “Oh I would never-,”

He nodded and said, “For the record I grew up with Miss Pear’s father,” stirring ripples of stunned reactions from the ladies listening in to the interaction, “She is his only surviving child and once I heard she had interest in attending the same school he had I took up the chance to get to know her. He was quite young when she died and I had imagined she might be wishing to get to know the man her father was from a friend who knew him well, while he would very much rest easy knowing she was well looked after. She is so much like him, it is almost like I have my old friend back again.”

Miss Marshal, “Oh, I wasn’t aware of her father-,”

Your History Professor said in the drop off of her voice, “According to Miss Pear in my class yesterday said she was orphaned by thirteen, I believe, or twelve, and that burying her mother took up all the money that was left in savings and that her brother Steve was buried by the military after his plane went down. We were discussing the increase in profiteering of the funeral industry post gold rush.” After a moment she added, “She made a fair point that one shouldn’t have to go down in a plane crash so their family wouldn’t be left penniless to bury them.”

Your Art History Professor sighed out, “No wonder she seemed so off put by my assignment.”

Another Art History Professor asked, “Oh, the meaningful artwork assignment you give on the first day, I just love those essays I get from my pupils.”

The first replied, “They must have had to sell their artwork...”

Elliot said after another sip, “I can’t imagine they would have had much artwork in the first place.” That had eyes on him and he clarified, “Her parents came from Ireland. Her father was after his degree while her mother worked as a nurse. Now however the case might be different however, her fiancé and his brother purchased the building she used to live in and they fixed it up. No doubt it is quite lovely after she got her hands on it to whip it into shape.”

One of the other women said, “Must have quite the fortune to buy a building to renovate for a woman he’s yet to marry. Perhaps she may give tips to some of our other girls on how she managed to convince him of that.”

Elliot sighed and replied, “James is quite the choice for a husband, and had they not met in a war no doubt they would have been married already. By my observation already the only thing lacking the title change is a missing piece of paper. And once they knew she was attending here he would want her to feel safe, simplest way would to be move in where she grew up for familiarity sake.”

“I still can’t imagine how much that cost, a whole building in Manhattan.” That had his lips parting and before long he simply rolled his eyes and slipped out to ready for his first class seeing the time leaving them to imagining what they would put in their own lavish imagined First Avenue home somehow you now were rumored to own.

Early through breakfast while Victor took hold of Teddy to finish his feeding Eddie was the one to answer the doorbell. Returning with an envelope express mailed to you alone that while you buttered your toast Eddie opened for you and read, “Odd.”

“Odd?”

You repeated and he replied turning to the second page, “Apparently the owner of Captain America comics is intent on selling and found out you’re Steve’s sister, he wanted to make sure his legacy is passed in family.”

“Odd,” you repeated again and James came over with a fresh plate of pancakes and eggs he set down in front of your spot and his peering onto the pages as well.

James said, “Only two grand, you want it?”

He asked looking at you and he glanced to Victor who said, “We’re buying it. If he’s closing up shop best to keep it under our watch. No telling what they’d turn the guy into next.” Pointing a fork at you he said with a smirk, “We could even give him a tail if you like.” Making you giggle and shake your head.

James took his seat beside you saying, “We’ll stop in after we drop you off.”

Eddie now on the turn page said, “He’s got playing cards!”

You smirked again as Venom said, “Venom would make such lovelier cards.”

“Yes you would Venom.”

Victor nodded, “Now we could do something with that, have our guys look into cards and tokens for poker, be really cool. Maybe even yo-yo’s, haven’t had one of those in ages.”

Grinning his way you asked, “That what you’ve been up to? Brainstorming for the comics?”

Victor smirked back at you, “Always. Even talks to have a Venom jr, web filled baby bottles and exploding diaper bombs and all. Venom swinging around with a diaper bag. So many ideas. Even Pepper, Olive and even Mr Whiskers has a cameo.”

“Now that sounds cute.”

James hummed out playfully, “Now we just have to think up a power persona for Dawn here.”

That had her blushing and staring up at him making Eddie day in sitting beside her, “Only if you want to be in them that is.” Pecking her on the cheek sweetly.

Eddie was off and while you rode to school the brothers shared the latest news on when the next comic would be arriving at home before it was available on shelves. Where the past dealt in the daily struggles of the war muddled with a love story contrasting other comics with heroes in it this was rather domestic. A romance with the characters happening to be superheroes. Wedding planning, grocery shopping, redecorating and house parties now joined by baby care for a super baby sure to add more interest between seedy encounters with common criminals. Each issue blending between your story line or Eddie’s with mingled tales in between just catching up to Eddie’s own wedding.

All the more useful for the press wishing to keep something of the latest up on your lovely group of hermits. The school had kept up on security but on the way to lunch few and in between a camera would sneak a picture of your daily routine along with another from your trip home again. They hadn’t gotten to following you home yet, but across from you a man moved turning the heads of the brothers watching him flip open his notepad to ask, “Miss Pear, Sirs, I just had a question.” Curious travelers stole glances at your group taking notice of who was in the car with them. “We caught wind you were approached by the owner of Captain America comics to purchase it. Does this mean the comics are going to merge story lines?”

Victor glanced your way then said, “That would be difficult to do.”

The man scribbled down the words then you said, “There’s an element of fiction, clearly, to the story lines in Bunny and Venom comics, but very much it’s based on day to day situations. While the Captain’s, if we were to merge the two it would be in an entirely fictional premise as the Captain isn’t here to actually, carry on every day.”

Victor, “I think for a bit we would regroup on what has been put out since we’d only seen issues back in the war when we saw Cap in a show ourselves. We really have to see how they built him up where they might have been going to see where we want to take him.”

James’ hand gave yours a kind squeeze, “After all, it’s a bit more personal on our part to ensure his image is honored and upheld in the future editions, while possibly making it a bit less gimmicky as some of the war editions were.”

The reporter chuckled then wet his lips asking you, “There’s a rumor, The Captain was based off your Brother Steve Rogers, that true?”

“Yes,” you replied, “I don’t know what he really thought of the comics, or if he even had a hand in them. I know he loved art, it was one of the things we shared interest in. So I don’t know where to take him from here, but wherever he’s going it’ll surely be somewhere he would have loved to have gone. I know he’d want it to be meaningful. More than anything he wanted to go off and fight for the little guy.” You let out a giggle, “Even though before the war he was a little guy himself, smaller than I am now.”

“I have to ask,” he said wetting his lips, “Why metal? Venom, eats people can leap about and then there’s the whole tongue thing, why metal for Bunny?”

Smirking to yourself you asked, “Why not? Take the smaller of the two and let them tear tanks in half, pull planes out of the sky.”

“That edition was genius, play right off your work with magnets. How did you get into magnets?”

“Used to work with Eddie in a junkyard, plenty of time on my hands to experiment with various metals. There’s metal in practically everything and everyone, take the latest medical machines, even they are dipping into the use of magnets to get looks into patients bodies to help them get better. We are living magnets if you want to delve into it,” your smile dipped out in another giggle at James chuckle to the beginnings of an excited rant, the smile making the man chuckle himself, “I love science, I tend to get carried away. The long and the short of it, Venom can eat and tear people apart and is so intimidating, but they protect each other as siblings should.”

“To be honest Captain could use some sprucing. He needs a pick up on powers. All punches and catch phrases and lectures. Next to Bunny and Venom, even Sabertooth and Wolverine what can he do?” The Reporter asked.

“There’s a time for talking, not everyone can control metal or eat people. Beneath it all, he’s just a boy from Brooklyn with two immigrant parents who just wants the world to be better and safe. Sometimes you need the talkers,” he nodded and you watched as he scribbled that down.

“So once you do get to the big wedding scenes, will it be exact details or something more dramatic? A kidnapping perhaps?”

James hummed, “There’s plenty of drama there, but I suppose if we were to add anything dramatic we’d have to get some permissions to use the guests we have coming for our ceremony and possibly approval for whatever storyline we would go with.”

He chuckled nodded as he replied, “Yes, but I think President Truman might enjoy being part of an exciting plot himself.”

“Don’t doubt it,” Victor chuckled back.

In a glance up to the approaching station he closed the book and reached out to shake the brothers’ hands, “Thank you,” in a tip of the brim to his hat he said, “Miss Pear, thank you, enjoy class.” Up he stood at your returning nod and you leaned into James’ side making the pair grin again at the return to privacy.

Victor, “You know if you get off early enough we might catch a film after you get out, see what shows are running.”

“I think it was between Bardot and Lassie.”

James chuckled standing with you at your stop, “I bet she feels thrilled about that competition.”

“Murder mystery or drama, doubt Lassie could pull that off.”

Victor, “I’m certain if someone explained it just right she could.” Making you giggle and join them on the walk out of the stopped train car with your flowing dress skirt shifting around your thighs under the ends of your cardigan.

Back to the front gate they walked you and James kissed your cheek humming, “See you after school, Darling.”

Victor, “Just leave Stevie boy to us.” You nodded and accepted his side hug and peck on your forehead.

Just a matter of streets and turns crossing several blocks and outside a glass wrapped building they walked in, followed the directions up the elevator to the third floor where upon entrance recognizing stares rippled around on the guests. A guy halfway across the floor knocked on a door he opened drawing a wide eyed man from the office who came out to greet the pair. “Mr Howlett, Mr Creed. Glad you could make it.”

James said, “Bunny would be here but she has class.”

He shook his head, “I understand, come in, come in.” Ushering them into the office where they talked through the transfer of ownership papers they both signed planning, like the building you lived in, to add your name to the ownership papers once your marriage was finalized. Another tick in the category of things you had been barred from, fully owning your brother’s comic as they realized that they had no intention of selling to you alone but the man you planned to marry. Comments of inept females in the office having been pushed out had the pair refraining from action until all of this was yours fully. Cases of comic originals and the lingering copies of those unsold and not yet sent to comic stores were packed up into a truck that would drive the pair back home. Among those thirty cases ten cases of card decks were added as well into a spare bedroom on the first floor to be out of the way.

Curiously a case at a time while Teddy played in his playpen Dawn joined the brothers in reading through the comics. “This, is nothing like your comic.”

Victor, “No kidding. Punching Nazi’s and a trip away where he stops a purse snatcher.” Shaking his head he said, “You should have heard the guy selling us all this and the rights to Captain’s image. Women are inept in an office setting so he sent them off the floor.”

Dawn looked them over, “Truly?”

James nodded, “Wonder what he would say if he knew Jaqi gets final say on every issue. Just maddening, he didn’t even want to sell to her. Said it himself, since we were going to be married best to sell straight to ‘the hand it will find eventually’ assuming I would take it from her. Just a matter of courtesy on informing her of the sale at all.”

Victor flipped the page saying, “We need to add strong women to this. All of them are waifs and fainting dames left and right needing saving from purse snatchers.”

Dawn, “Won’t change much. Not every place is like home. I nearly couldn’t buy rum for a cake yesterday until one of our neighbors let the keep know I’m Eddie’s wife.”

They both huffed and James said, “I’ll go with you next time.”

Dawn smirked at his protective glare, “I don’t need an escort. But thank you. You two have a comic business to run.”

Victor, “Oh we can do both and you know it.” Going to handle Teddy’s changing, “Certainly old enough to know how to manage our time.”

James looked her over asking, “People being nice to you?”

She nodded, “Yes, they are. Like to ask about the house and how everyone is.”

James chuckled, “They do like to be well informed here.”

Dawn asked timidly, “Do you have bad dreams?” James looked her over at her adding, “Eddie woke up a few times last night. Said it was a car door. He hasn’t, but we haven’t lived together very long.”

James, “We have more bad dreams than they do. Eddie’s been much better since first moving in with us. Venom, well,”

Victor came back saying, “Eating people whole is a rough business. Even Pipsqueak has some bad ones from time to time.” He sat down saying as he settled Teddy on his lap, “We had a bad skirmish, few years back,” She nodded and he said, “Bunny got shot in the neck, it wasn’t pretty. Anniversaries happen, but they get easier.”

“The neck?” Dawn asked voice trembling.

James reached over patting her hand, “Super healing, part of her strengths, the wound turns metal for a few weeks and she walks it off. Doesn’t make it hurt any less, we took more fire than Bunny but it doesn’t make her pain any more tolerable.”

“What sort of nightmares does Bunny have?”

Victor, “Ooh, from before or through the war? Poor jumpy thing when we met in her nursing training on the base. Didn’t help I broke her hand first time we spoke. Worst she’s done is stab Jimmy when I startled her on celebrating her ged.”

Her eyes went wide looking at James who grinned at her, “She was asleep, I woke up my claws popped out and she sort of mimicked my response and metal claws came out of her knuckles. Unintentional and she took it bad, scared her terribly. We don’t have any weapons by the bed don’t worry,”

Dawn shook her head, “I’m not, our grandpa took war hard, never got over it we had a list of how to come up to him even just to talk, she must have been so scared.”

James, “She was just a kid, fifteen when we met, just turned sixteen on the battlefield.”

Victor, “More scared of hurting others than getting hurt. We both faced that when we found out what we could do. You want to hide, not draw attention, but you can’t hide it. Eddie said the first time Venom broke loose she was face to face with Germans the first time and she dropped her gun, covered her face. By chance that triggered her magnetic power to form a wall in front of her. She kept her men safe, all the way through as best she could. The quiet back home did them good.”

James, “He just jump up?”

“And paced a bit. Got him back to bed after some tea.”

Victor smiled, “See, you’ll calm him down. He’s improving with you, being with someone you love helps. Even I have the puppies and occasionally Teddy to cuddle up with.”

Dawn smirked, “That’s why he doesn’t cry at night?”

James, “He never cried at night. Very even tempered boy and we had his schedule down in a matter of days.”

Victor, “Still I like to help you guys sleep by changing the little guy and the occasional snack. Gonna be big like his daddy,” he said pressing a kiss on Teddy’s forehead that bumped into his chin trying to stand up on his lap. “Certainly has his aunt’s appetite.”

Dawn said, “Eddie said it was a hard labor, for Teddy?”

James sighed, “We can’t say we know what your kids might be, but Venom has said your blood is different. You’re stronger a match for babies.”

Victor, “We’ll take care of you. Make certain nothing goes too rough, even in labor we’ll help how we can.”

Dawn asked timidly, “How old are you? Jaqi mentioned once, you’ve been married before.”

James answered, “I’m 138.” Parting her lips, “Vic is a couple years older, every couple decades we start over. Powder our hair, have to fake our deaths come back as our sons, but now that our faces are out there, and there’s no telling with how Jaqi ages either. Might have to own up to our ages. Or hide a while and hope people just eventually forget us.”

Seeing the question in her eyes Victor said, “And no, there is no abandoning you. You’re family now. We always protect family.”

Pt 29

#James Howlett x Reader OC #Victor Creed #Venom #Eddie Brock x OC

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kaleidescope-writes · 4 years

Text

Heart of Audrilluria- Chapter XXI; Dreams Come True

Modern Fairytale AU

Prince King!Tom Hiddleston x Thief Queen! Reader

Designated Song: Hidden Feelings by Zara, Phoebe, and Lo

Please read the Author’s Note

Ready to fall in love?

Removing the glass from her lips, Y/N swallowed the water nervously. It had been almost two years since she’d returned to Audrilluria with Thomas and today was the day they’d vow to spend the rest of their lives together as husband and wife. And if that wasn’t nerve-wracking enough, she’d also make her vows to be queen. Something she’d been rehearsing since the day Thomas proposed. Her dream man came with a package. A package that just so happened to include a country… And seven kids.

“I’m sweating like a pig in the desert,” Y/N complained, fanning herself with a notecard that contained her vows. “There’s no sweat, you’re fine,” Amelie comforted, “Now close your eyes, I need to make you look naturally beautiful for your husband to be.” Y/N closed her eyes, desperately trying to continue fanning herself before Amelie took the notecard from her hand. “It’s hot in here, I don’t want to sweat in my dress,” Y/N whined, keeping her eyes closed. “It’s not hot,” Amelie laughed as she continued to apply a natural-looking eyeshadow to Y/N’s lids, “You’re nervous. Honestly, if I was marrying a handsome, gentle, kind, and downright amazing king, I would be nervous too.” Y/N laughed mockingly, “You’ll find someone. Maybe not a king, but someone.”

Before Amelie had a chance to respond, the door opened and Augustus walked in. “How is the bride?” he asked excitedly, holding a clear, plastic box that contained the fresh flower bouquet. “The bride, if you must know, is anxious out of her mind,” Y/N replied as Amelie added the final touches to her eyeliner before reaching for the mascara. “You’ll be fine,” Augustus laughed as he set the bouquet down on the table near the sisters. “See,” Amelie began, finishing with Y/N’s makeup, “Gus and I both agree you’ll be fine. It’ll be fine. Besides, Tom loves you, pig sweat, and all.” Y/N rolled her eyes, looking over to the bouquet box to admire the freshly picked flowers. “So what did you decide on for my flowers?” she asked, looking over to Augustus. “Well,” he began, “Since I had to describe you love in flowers while sticking to the theme, I went for baby’s breath for the innocence of first love, white gardenias for the joy of the celebration, red roses for true love, pink roses for grace, ivory roses to represent your charm, and blush noisettes for a modern yet elegant touch. All flowers were picked from the garden.”

Y/N smiled, still admiring the bouquet, “I want to believe you looked up the meaning of flowers in preparation for the wedding.” Augustus gave her a proud smile, “Since Thomas showed me the ring he was going to use to propose with.” Y/N chuckled, looking down at the ring. The mock sapphire gem gleaming under the light of the sun. Her thoughts took her back to the day he proposed, the familiar feeling spreading from her stomach. She felt it every time she was around him, thinking about him, and every time they kissed. Love.

“When you’re done daydreaming,” Amelie teased, “Maybe you can finally tell me about the ring you’re staring at while I help you with your dress.” Y/N snapped out of her thoughts, standing to walk over to the panel divider to change out of her nightwear and into her wedding dress. “I’m curious too,” Augustus said, “Why the mock sapphire ring?” Whilst changing, Y/N explained behind the panel, “We all remember when I stole the heart’s replica. Well, I left the gemstone heart behind with a note for Thomas that said ‘Real or fake, this shouldn’t belong to me’, referring to the heart. When he brought the replica back, he had a professional jeweler change them again so that the replica could have the gem it originally came with. As for the one I had put in its place, I thought he threw it away. Apparently, he had this ring specially made with a piece of the mock sapphire as the center jewel of the rose. He had another piece of the mock sapphire embedded into his wedding band. The rose in my ring is a symbol of what we consider was our first date in the garden. The day he proposed, he told me ‘Real or fake, this heart belongs to you. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.’ And I knew I had to say yes.”

Amelie stared lovingly at her sister as she attached the veil to her hair. “He’s so sappy! I love it!” she said, taking a step back to admire her work, “And you look absolutely perfect.” Y/N walked out of the barrier created by the divider, allowing Augustus to see her. As soon as he laid eyes on her, his jaw dropped in astonishment. “You look absolutely radiant!” he complimented, almost at a loss for words. “Thank you, Gus,” Y/N smiled. Amelie walked to stand in front of her, “Ready to knock your goom out of his boots? Well, again?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Thomas stood in front of the altar with the archbishop and two best men by his side. His solid black traditional suit greatly contrasted with the brightness of the room. He was wearing his king crown for the special occasion. “Nervous?” Charles asked him teasingly. “Yes,” Thomas said simply, trying to distract himself by looking at everything in the room, making sure everything looked perfect. “So was Y/N,” Augustus said simply. “I lived with her for almost two years. I know everything about her life, everything she loves, everything she hates, every little thing about her and I am overtaken by the nerves and fear,” Thomas muttered, more to himself. “You’ll be fine, Tommy,” Charles comforted, “Feeling anxious is perfectly normal when you’re marrying the love of your life. Your parents felt it, my parents felt it, and hell, I’ll feel it when Augustus and I decide to get married.” Augustus looked over to him in shock, “When we wha-”

Music began to play as the double doors opened slowly. All three men straightened their posture and the best men took their respective places. The guests that crowded the room stood, turning to the doors as the royal children came into view. From the order of age, they began to walk down the aisle, Joey spreading the flower petals, Mikey walking close behind with the rings, Matias following in line in front of Alma, Allie, Daya, and Theodore. They took their places in the front seats reserved for family. At the very end of the hall, Y/N stood in her gorgeous dress and bouquet in hand. Her white dress was decorated with faux silver gems on top of the intricate lace, giving the dress a glowing feeling. She began her stride down the hall, joined by Amelie who agreed to give her away. Thomas looked to his wife-to-be in astonishment. She was as gorgeous as the day she first came to Audrilluria. She looked perfect, as always.

They reached the altar and Amelie took Y/N’s hand and put it in Thomas’s hand. “Take care of her, your highness,” Amelie whispered loud enough for him to hear. “I promise,” Thomas smiled, taking her hand and leading her up to the top of the altar. He continued to admire her beauty, now closer as Amelie took her place on Y/N’s right side, taking her bouquet. “You look absolutely divine,” Thomas whispered to her, leaning into her ear. “And you look regal, my love,” she responded with a smile. Both their nerves long forgotten as they stared deeply into each other’s eyes.

“Dearly beloved family, friends, and guests,” the archbishop began, “We are here today to celebrate the union between our king and his beloved. I have been informed that objections will not be allowed, so I shall move on with the sermon.” Y/N’s eyes widened slightly as she giggled, turning to Thomas. Thomas simply winked, giving her that all too familiar smirk before focussing on the archbishop’s words.

“As a promise of eternal love, the bride and groom will now speak their vows as they accept their rings,” the archbishop spoke. Mikey approached Charles, giving him the rings before returning to his place. Thomas and Y/N faced each other, holding hands. “My dearest Y/N,” Thomas began, looking deeply into her eyes, “From the moment I laid eyes on you, the only thought in my mind was how beautiful and free-spirited you were. I was instantly captivated by your very presence. You took my breath away from the very start and I wanted nothing more than to be by your side always. I found myself thinking about you at every given moment. I was captivated by your smile, your eyes, the way you laughed, the way you carried yourself, and every little thing about you. I knew from the start, I needed to be with you. Even after everything that happened after I first met you, I felt the need to forgive. I knew that if I didn’t have you by my side, I would never forgive myself. I knew that despite everything, I needed to be with you. So from that moment on, I decided to not let you go. And I promise now, with everyone here to witness, I will never let you go.” He placed the ring on Y/N’s finger as he finished speaking. The archbishop nodded to Y/N, signaling it was her turn.

“Thomas, my love,” she began, “There are so many things I could say to you that I’ve said before. I could describe how much I love you or how much you changed me, but I want to tell you something I’ve never said aloud. When we first met, I couldn’t meet your eyes because I knew I’d get lost in those beautiful blue orbs. Every time you spoke, I felt butterflies and a part of me wished it was directed to me. I fell for you slowly and it scared me because I never even dreamed of. Every little thing about you took my breath away and whenever you looked at me from a distance, time just froze. I was terrified to tell you what I felt because I knew you deserved so much more than I could ever be. When you went looking for me and showed me the hope in your eyes, I allowed myself to show what I feel. I was certain we would never end up together, but you changed that. And now, I’m overjoyed that from this day on, you will call me your wife.” She took his wedding band and placed it on his finger.

“Do you, King Thomas, take Y/N to be your wife?” Thomas smiled brightly, “I do.”

“And do you, Y/N L/N, take Thomas to be your husband?” Y/N mimicked his smile, “I do.”

“Before this ceremony continues, I ask that the bride prepare to speak the vows to Audrilluria,” the archbishop commanded. Y/N let go of Thomas’s hands and made her way down the steps of the altar to the majordomo, who was holding the Orb of Unity and Mercy and the Scepter of Leadership and Justice. She took both in her hands as the archbishop spoke, “Speak your vows as you look upon the people of this kingdom.” Y/N took a deep breath, eyes scanning the room as she began, “I, Y/N L/N, solemnly swear to help my husband lead our kingdom with a firm but gentle hand. I promise to be loyal to Audrilluria as well as to the king. I will help him with the responsibilities that come with leadership and take an equal part in it.” The archbishop then commanded, “Take your place by the king’s side and finish your vows.” Y/N walked up the steps again and stood in front of Thomas, still holding the royal items. “On this day, I vow my loyalty to my husband, to Audrilluria, and to its legacy. On this day, I vow to be a fair queen.” she finished.

The majordomo walked up to her and took the royal items from her hands. “You may crown your queen,” the archbishop told Thomas. Y/N bowed slightly as Thomas took the crown from Augustus’s hands and placed the ruby-encrusted, gold crown gently on her head. Y/N stood up again and took Thomas’s hands in hers as the archbishop announced, “With vows spoken and unity made, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” Thomas almost didn’t wait for him to finish before he wrapped his arms around Y/N’s waist and pulled her in for a deep, passionate kiss. The guests stood and cheered for the couple, though they were focussed on each other.

When they finally parted, the archbishop announced, “I present to all, Thomas and Y/N Hiddleston, king, and queen of Audrilluria.” The cheers resumed as the couple looked around the room at their people. Thomas turned to Y/N with a smirk, “Ready to move on, my love?” Y/N looked to him in confusion, recognizing that mischievous smirk, “What are you plann--”

Thomas lifted her suddenly, carrying her bridal-style down the aisle and through the entrance doors. The people and press outside began to take pictures and cheer at the sight of the couple. Y/N laughed as Thomas set her down again, allowing her to rush down the steps with him with Augustus, Charles, and Amelie following close behind. They made it to their carriage and got in, preparing for the long photoshoot to come.

~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was close to setting as the reception was in full swing. The guests danced and mingled as they waited for the king and queen to have their first dance. The music faded, signaling that it was time for the dance. The dance area cleared as Thomas and Y/N made their way to the center. A soft, orchestral song began to play and Y/N recognized it instantly. “This is the same song we first danced to,” she inquired, facing her husband. Husband. “I wanted to recreate the moment I realized I never wanted to let you go,” Thomas responded, a smile gracing his lips as they began to dance.

They swayed around the room, eyes permanently fixed on each other as their movements synced effortlessly. The same feeling that embraced them the first time they danced returned, this time stronger now that their love was made known. It was only them in the room with the music. Everything else faded away and they felt as if they danced on a cloud. The song came to an end as Thomas spun Y/N, bringing her closer to him as they came to a full stop. Taking the opportunity, Y/N leaned in and pressed a small, loving kiss to his lips. The guests cheered, making their presence known once more.

“It’s time,” Amelie reminded, coming up to them with the bouquet in her hand. Y/N took it as some of the guests began to gather to try to catch it. Once everyone was ready, Y/N turned away and tossed it over her shoulder. After hearing them shuffle for a moment, she turned to see Charles holding the bouquet over his head proudly as he looked in the direction of Augustus. Thomas and Y/N turned to see a surprised, yet happy Augustus standing on the other side of them. They laughed softly as the guests began to crowd the dance area once more.

“I believe it’s time for something else, my love,” Thomas whispered in Y/N’s ear. She looked up at him excitedly as he took her hand and began to lead her through the corridors of their home. They climbed up the stairs and made their way to the all-too-familiar office. Thomas opened the door, allowing his wife to enter before him. Wife. They reached the balcony doors and went inside. As they were walking in, lanterns began to illuminate the sky. Being the sappy gentleman he was, Thomas decided to marry Y/N on the day of Rosamund’s Celebration, two years after he realized he loved her. They looked out into the sky illuminated by lanterns, enjoying one another’s company. Suddenly, Y/N turned to face him, “Here’s to a lifetime by your side.” Thomas gave her a bright smile, “And to the future that we’ll make together.” With that, he leaned in and captured her lips in yet another passionate and gentle kiss.

In that moment, both of them realized that their deepest dreams had come true.

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

A/N: It’s been one hell of a ride. Throughout the course of this story, I kept falling in love with this idea over and over again.[Also, for your vows, I added pieces of the designated song] So much so that I decided to not let go just yet. Coming in June, I will release kind of a sequel series to this called Life in Audrilluria. Basically, it will describe what happened in the almost two years leading up the wedding (including the engagement). I will post an announcement with the exact day the series will start by the end of this month. Until then, I want to introduce oneshots and Imagines into my works. I will post a few oneshots starting Wednesday if you are interested. I just want to ask you to let me know what characters/celebs/fandoms you want to see. Anyway, Thank you all so friggen much for all the support you’ve shown me. Honestly, you guys are the reason I kept it going for 21 chapters. I love you all so much and I’ll see you on Wednesday for more exciting content. I hope all is well, stay safe, and I’ll see you in June for the sequel!!

Taglist:

@ladyblablabla, @tvdplusriverdale, @pipolaki, @myraiswack, @shockwavee, @harringtonb-blog, @cynic-spirit, @little-moonbeam-666, @ochizokulevy, @swifitiedaylight, @blue-honey-bee-from-france @scorpionchild81, @imnotrevealingmyname @whathefuckrichard69 @frostedgiant @falling4uke @accio-boys @ashcrimson-is-writing

#tom hiddelston x reader #tom hiddelson #tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddleston #thomas hiddleston #tom hiddles #thomas william hiddleston #loki fandom #loki fanfic #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x reader #thomas hiddleston x reader #loki #loki layfeyson x reader #loki imagine

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alj4890 · 5 years

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None But You

(Thomas x Amanda) set in a Regency Era time period as requested by @pixieferry

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) a Choices Red Carpet Diaries Fan Ficition

A/N Well, here we are. Our hero is finally acting the way we want. Lord Thomas Hunt, the Viscount of Kirkwood has declared himself as Lady Amanda's suitor. One would think it would be smooth sailing from here, right? Then again, Lady Amanda is not necessarily the easiest to convince. I love it when that happens, don't you? Let's pick up directly at the end of the previous chapter and watch the sparks fly.

Summary: After his declaration, Lord Thomas and Lady Amanda begin their courtship. Is the lady though, pleased by such? And will the gentleman not only be honest but also able to win her heart?

@graceful-popcorn @krsnlove @alleksa16 @hopelessromantic1352 @pixieferry @emceesynonymroll @buzz-bee-buzz @hopefulmoonobject @cora-nova @rainbowsinthestorm @lxaah11 @dr-nancy-house @friedherringclodthing @aworldoffandoms @i-bloody-love-drake-walker

Masterlist

Chapter 7

"I beg your pardon," Amanda began. "Did you say you are going to be my suitor?"

"I did and I am." Thomas stated once more. "I am done fighting against my feelings."

Amanda checked to make certain the world was still right side up. Lord Thomas Hunt was now a suitor? Her suitor? Her elation at hearing what had been a secretly held dream began to lessen when she focused on his last sentence. Her brow furrowed as she looked up at him.

"You are done fighting your feelings?" She was unable to hide how much his words hurt her. "What is it about me that you must wrestle with yourself over?" She knew what she looked like, and goodness knows after being sick she certainly did not look attractive. Yet, she wasn't causing small children and animals to run in terror with her face and figure.

Thomas realized his error as he thought back to how the Duke and Lord Comery had spoken to her. "It was not you I fought, more my own ideas that marriage was not for me. Not for a long time at the very least. I had not expected to meet a lady that I would want for a wife."

"Well, I am sorry that your plans have been disrupted." She mumbled. "Perhaps your luck will change and you will see you had it right at the beginning."

Thomas narrowed his eyes at her. "I am not a man who changes easily, as you well know."

Amanda sighed. Now I've insulted his pride. "I did not mean it in that fashion. I know you are steadfast in nature, which makes you a desirable friend to have." She looked up into his eyes. "But if you were so set against marriage and me being who I am...then I would understand you deciding against making me your vicountess."

"What the devil do you mean by me being who I am?" He nearly yelled. Thomas caught himself in time and harshly whispered. "If you dare insult your appearance after I have more than said how desireable you are, then I will not be held accountable for what I do next." He stepped closer to her and made certain that it looked like he was causally leaning against the same tree she was. Being so close to her was affecting them both.

Amanda swallowed nervously and looked away. "It does not make it any less true. My coloring and figure do not match what is considered attractive by the ton. You know that even the Earl said--"

"Do not quote that buffoon to me!" He bit out. He grabbed her hand and pulled her with him, further into the grove.

"My lord! Slow down, I can barely keep up." She ran into him when he stopped behind some hedges. She couldn't see anyone and immediately became quite nervous. "Why did you bring me here?"

"I warned you." He reminded her in a dangerously low tone. "Yet, you persisted with that idiotic notion."

She opened her mouth then closed it. She wasn't certain if she wanted to argue or not over this. It was her appearance after all.

He nodded in approval. "I see you finally agree." Thomas pulled his gloves off and cupped her face. Her eyes grew large as she stood frozen in place. His fingers gently smoothed her cheeks and he ran his thumb slowly over her plump bottom lip.

Her breath hitched with the sensation combined with his heated gaze. "Thomas?" She didn't know what she was asking though something deep within her believed he was the only one who knew how to answer.

His attention lifted from her lips to her eyes. "Do you accept me as a suitor?"

Her eyes stared into his. "I...I think perhaps you should reconsider this--" Her lips parted and her eyelashes fluttered closed when he tenderly kissed her cheek.

A hint of a smile was on his lips as he stepped closer. He lowered his head to kiss her--

"Lord Hunt? Lady Amanda? Are you in there?"

Amanda's eyes flew open. Thomas dropped his hands and cleared his throat. "We are here Matthew."

The Conde poked his head through the brush and smiled at them. "Forgive my interruption but Lady Bridgerton is anxious to return home."

"Thank you, my lord." Amanda smiled at him. "I shall come directly."

He bowed and left them alone. Thomas took her hand and pressed a kiss to it before setting it on his arm.

"I am your suitor." Thomas stated firmly as they left the privacy of the hedges. "We will not continue to argue over it."

Amanda's lips firmed in a frown. Nothing prodded her temper quite like being told that there was going to be no more discussion on an important matter. It was her life that would be affected. He thought his kiss could be used to make her fall in with his plans. Well, he was certainly in for a rude awakening. And as much as she wished it was not so, his touch did cause her to lose all rational thought. She refused to succumb to him through such methods.

He led her back to the carriage and bid them both a good day. "With your permission, may I call tomorrow?"

Lucy ignored the slight shake of Amanda's head. She was determined to see her niece with Thomas. After the servants informed her how the Viscount had devotedly cared for the young lady while she was ill, she was ready to send the couple to Gretna Green this very evening. "We look forward to it, my lord."

______________

Lucy finished her lists of items to be purchased and chores to be completed before they were to leave for a week in the country for Lady Millie’s house party. She glanced over at her niece who was trying to not stare at the door while working on her embroidery

"Dearest, he will most likely arrive within the hour. No need to worry." Lucy didn't bother to hide her delighted smile. Of all the possible suitors, Lord Hunt was one she had most hoped for Amanda.

"Aunt Lucy?" Amanda struggled to keep her temper in check. Her aunt had waived off her desire to refuse Thomas's suit. It was time to find another avenue to convince her that she should not accept him. "Do you not find it strange that he has changed his mind so suddenly? Can his heart be that fickle?"

"My dear, most men have the notion that they possess all the time in the world when it comes to finding a wife. Many believe that one woman is as good as another. Though I hate to admit to such about our own sex, I do believe the ton has created a great number of the same type of lady. There are too many empty headed creatures that are lovely to look a, yet are unable to string two complete thoughts together. Their lack of substance causes an intelligent gentleman to wait until he is at death's door before marrying and producing a needed heir." Lucy shrugged when Amanda appeared surprised. "I'm afraid that is our fate in life."

Her niece set her sampler down and went to the window. "Yes, but why has he decided now to pursue me? He has had ample opportunity to realize his feelings."

Lucy joined her by the window and wrapped a comforting arm around her waist. "It is more than likely that he has felt a great deal of affection for you. I believe that he has a rather definite stubborn streak."

Amanda snorted softly. "Mulish come to mind."

Lucy bit back her smile at the pot calling the kettle black. "Be that as it may, a man of his temperament is quite shocked to find themselves falling for a slip of a girl."

Her niece continued to look at her skeptically. The countess placed her hands on her hips. "Your uncle was the same way."

Amanda's lips parted in surprise. "What? Uncle Nicholas? But, he told me about your courtship. He said--"

"Oh I know exactly what he said." Lucy interrupted. "The dances, stealing me away out in the moonlight, the flowers and poetry...rubbish."

"Aunt Lucy!"

"Now darling, I know this comes as a shock, but your uncle was very set on the plans he had made before he met me. He was going to travel and study the world. He wanted no responsibilities and thought himself above needing a wife and permanent home." Lucy grinned to herself as she thought of the grand speeches he would make about his future.

"Well, he clearly changed his mind." Amanda muttered.

"Yes he did." Lucy dabbed at her eyes when she remembered the night he confessed he loved her. "I do not wish to see you make my mistakes. I gave your uncle a difficult time in the beginning over my foolish vanity not being stroked right. I wanted him to have known he adored me from our first meeting. He swore he did, he simply refused to accept or admit it to himself."

Amanda thought that she knew that type of gentleman a little too well. Should she cut her nose off to spite her face? Or, should she see where his courtship took her? She softly sighed as she contemplated her future.

Hudson entered the drawing room. "My lady? Lord Hunt is here to see you.

"Do send him in. Lucy replied.

Amanda turned around and felt her heart stutter. Why must he be one of the handsomest men at court, she wondered.

He bowed to Lucy and kissed her hand. He then turned to Amanda. A hint of a smile appeared on his lips. “Ladies, I hope you are doing well this afternoon.”

“We are. Thank you.” Amanda muttered.

“Lady Bridgerton?” Thomas kept his eyes on the young lady as he spoke to her aunt. “Just so there is no confusion in the matter, I am asking your permission to court Lady Amanda. Do I have your approval?”

Lucy was ready to give her blessing and permission for them acquire a special license walk to the church at this very moment. “Yes, of course.”

He bowed his head in thanks. Amanda’s brow creasing in worry was not lost on him. He knew she was still fighting against his change of mind. If she would only accept that it wasn’t a change of his heart, then she would see how right he was for her.

Lucy asked Hudson to bring in a tea tray for the couple while she explained that she was taking tea in the study. “I must finish going over these lists before we leave for the Rawlings’s country home. Are you attending the house party?”

“I am.” He said with a slight smile. “I would be more than happy to escort you both in my carriage.” His eyes remained on Amanda. “I am offering for purely selfish reasons. I would very much like your company for the trip.”

Her lips parted in surprise at his words. He seemed so different now that he had declared himself as her suitor. Lucy beamed at him and said how they would very much like his escort. Plans were discussed between the two as Amanda quietly observed him.

Lucy gathered her notes and smiled at them as she swept out of the room. Thomas moved to a chair closer to where Amanda chose to sit. He reached over and took her hand, raising it to his lips. “Now do you accept me?”

She grimaced and focused on her hand in his. “It seems I am given little choice in the decision.”

His lips touched the inside of her wrist. Color flared over her cheeks at the tingling sensation. “Of course you have a say.” He decided to force her to admit to herself that she cared for him. Plus he wouldn’t mind hearing her feelings for himself. “Do you find me so loathsome as a suitor?”

Her eyes widened at the uncertainty in his voice. “I do not find you loathsome at all.”

He gently caressed the top of her hand he still held with his other. “Is it my looks? I know some ladies prefer men that have--”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Of course it is not your looks. You know very well that ladies prefer to look upon you than many of the other gentlemen of the ton.” Amanda pulled her hand from his. She pushed off the settee and walked over to the window.

He smiled at her back and stood. He silently walked up behind her. She jumped when his deep voice was right at her ear.

“What of my personality? I do not have the pleasant, easy temperament that some have like Lord Matthew and Sir Chris. Is that why you do not wish me to court you?”

She dropped her head forward for a moment, tempting him with her graceful neck. “Your temperament...I have preferred it even when we quarreled.”

His hands gently grasped her arms, pulling her back against his chest. His lips brushed her ear while he told her how he hoped she would find him agreeable. “Your opinion is the most important to me.” He softly whispered. She turned her head and looked up at him. Her heart began to pick up speed when he lowered his lips to hers.

Hudson came in, speaking a bit louder than usual. “Your tea, my lady.”

She moved quickly away from Thomas. “Thank you, Hudson.” Amanda resumed her seat and prepared his tea the way he preferred. A smile appeared on her lips when she realized he liked his the same way she did.

He sat down near her once more and relaxed somewhat as he turned the conversation toward other subjects. Thomas felt his impression of her improve with each topic they discussed.

By the time his visit was coming to an end, he had her laughing at a story of a well known tonnish gentleman and lady and their unfortunate dip in the Thames. He smiled proudly at having made her laugh so often during his visit. They both looked at the clock on the mantle when it chimed the early evening hour.

"As much as I loathe to do so, I must take my leave." Thomas stood up and took her hand. "I would force my company on you longer, but I have a dinner engagement with Lord Ryan and Sir Chris this evening."

"Oh." Amanda couldn't quite hide the disappointment in her voice. "Will you be attending Lord and Lady Willmington's ball afterwards?"

"Will you be there?" He asked.

She shook her head. "Even though he says I am improving each day, Sir Vincent wishes me to avoid balls and such until the ones that will happen at Lady Millie's house party."

"Then I will not attend any until then." Thomas declared. When her face revealed her confusion, he gently caressed her cheek. "The only reason I have attended such events was to be near you. Hold you in my arms. Talk to you." He took a step closer to her. "You are the very object that draws me to the gatherings that I have avoided over the years."

Her lips parted in surprise at him admitting to such. "I..." She licked her dry lips and lifted her eyes to his. "I do not know what to think of you when you say such things."

"I hope you think fondly of me." He admitted. "I do not say such to simply flatter you, even though it is a compliment. It is that I want you to know the truth about me. I have tried to distance myself from tonnish activities over the years, save for the very few that would insult those that I consider true friends if I did not at least make an appearnce."

Amanda's cheeks tinted a shade darker. "Then I thank you for the compliment." Her eyes lifted to his. "I hope you enjoy your evening with Lord Ryan and Sir Chris."

"Thank you." He pressed a kiss to her hand. He stared at her mouth for a heated moment. "May I come visit tomorrow?"

She looked into his dark eyes and nodded. "I would like that." Her lips trembled with suppressed laughter. "Though I fear that I will not have anything exciting to share."

Thomas smiled and moved another step closer. "Nonsense. Your mind fascinates me."

"I...thank you." She stuttered when his close prescence and unexpected compliments took her by surprise. "You need not flatter me so."

"I disagree." He pressed his lips against her wrist. "I have weeks to make up for my foolish decision to not court you sooner. I will not waste another moment when it concerns you."

"Thomas." She whisperwd when he lowered his head to hers. "I--"

"Oh good gracious! Catch him!"

Amanda and Thomas jerked apart when they heard Lady Lucy's outburst out in the hallway. They rushed to the doorway and peeked out. A goose went flapping by them, honking in anger.

Amanda took a step back and bumped into Thomas. He wrapped his arms around her to steady her. Mirth at the ridiculousness of it all caused her to laugh. Thomas shook his head in laughter when he heard Hudson and the footmen threaten bodily harm to the unfortunate fowl that had snuck in the house.

Thomas stared down at her joyful face lit in the soft candlelight and felt his heart fall for her even more. Before another interruption could occur he gently captured her lips in a tender kiss. She stilled in his arms. Right when his mind thought she might not like his kiss from her lack of response, her lips softened and she slipped her arms around his neck.

Amanda sighed softly when he ended the kiss. He pressed his lips to her forehead and closed his eyes. Having her in his arms and the feel of her lips still making his own tingle, it had been more than he hoped. How could he ever have thought of her being with Matthew or any other man for that matter?

He opened his eyes and looked down into hers. "I must leave." He whispered. Thomas didn't move away from her.

She smiled at him. "I look forward to your visit tomorrow."

He pressed another kiss to her lips.

"You can come out dears!" Lucy yelled. "The goose is back outside and I daresay he will be gracing our table before the week is out."

Thomas and Amanda laughed in the midst of their kiss. He took her hand again in his. He led her out into the hallway and said his goodbyes to her and Lucy. The latter was thrilled that he was planning on returning the next day.

"You must dine with us one evening you are free." Lucy replied. "With Amanda recovering, I know she would prefer to have a change in company."

Thomas bowed his head in thanks. "I shall allow you ladies to decide the date. After tonight's dinner, I will have free evenings until we depart for Lady Millie's."

He kissed Amanda's hand on his way out the door. He held his lips against her skin for an extra moment and focused on her lips. Thomas lifted his eyes to hers to see if she understood.

Her sudden blush was his answer. He smiled and wished her a good night.

#playchoices #choices rcd #choices thomas hunt #rcd regency au #thomas hunt rcd #thomas hunt x oc #thomas hunt x amanda

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strangely-constructed-soul · 5 years

Text

Chosen- An Elriel Royalty AU

Masterlist

Elain Archeron was sobbing into a pillow on her lavish four poster bed when her younger sister, Feyre, walked into her suites.

“Laney, what is it?” The younger princess asked, sounding concerned. Elain refused to meet her gaze.

“Nothing.” It was most certainly nothing and they both knew it. Ever since Azriel has shown up, Elain had been entranced by him. He was an apprentice in the ballet company that was located in the southern wing of the palace. They had spent time together in the gardens at night, and they had stolen forbidden kisses and secrets from each other. Elain had thought herself in love with him until two evenings ago when she was betrothed to Prince Lucien of the Autumn Kingdom. As Lucien was the seventh in line for the kingdom of Autumn, and she was first in line for the throne of the Western Realms, she would get to stay in her home. Near Azriel, her traitorous mind thought. Azriel likely wanted nothing to do with her, nor she with him, she tried to convince herself.

Feyre sighed and got up to leave the room. She was most likely going to find their eldest sister, Queen Nesta, and ask her about the ball. The ball had been arranged to celebrate Feyre’s engagement to His Royal Highness, the Crown Prince Rhysand of the Night Court. Elain cringed at the title; why did she have to marry someone because of a title anyways? Feyre was lucky enough to have fallen in love with and chosen Rhysand for herself.

She heard graceful footsteps approach her door and stop long enough to slide a piece of paper under, then stalk away. She wiped at her tear stained cheeks and went to retrieve it. She resolved to get dressed for the ball, even if she was dreading seeing Lucien there. The piece of paper was a crisp note. Elain’s breath hitched at he familiar handwriting. The note read:

My Dearest Elain,

Please forgive me if my absence from the gardens has been giving you grief these past few nights. I wouldn’t have missed our time together if I didn’t have a good reason. I do believe my motivations were honorable, as I was meeting with an old friend with some connections.

I’m completely and totally yours. You’re my everything. Elain, you’re the reason I get out of bed in the morning. If only we were allowed to wake up in each other’s arms. Every time I see you, another piece of my battered heart belongs to you. I simply cannot lose you, El. Which is why I need you to come to the ball tonight. I can’t explain now, but my friend has brought some things to light. I finally have hope, Love, and you should too.

Yours always, Azriel

Elain did have hope. She just didn’t know what she was hoping for. A future with Az? Did he mean for them to steal away? She would go anywhere with him, he was her home. She would have to renounce her duty to her country, and she would if he asked her to. Elain was beyond confused. And the things he’d said. They hadn’t talked often of their feelings because they knew that, someday, someone would tell them that they couldn’t be together. That word, Love, rang though her mind as she slipped into her dark purple gown.

Elain was announced as she carefully descended the steps onto the dance floor.

“Her Royal Highness, Princess Elain of the Western Realms,” Elain sucked in a breath to prepare for the second title that would be hers in less than a year, Future Princess of the Autumn Court. Her title wouldn’t be official until(or unless) she she accepted Lucien’s proposal, as was custom. Nevertheless, it would still be announced. The announcer cleared his throat, making Elain’s anxiousness even worse before continuing, “Future Duchess of the Night Court.”

Elain continued to walk down the steps and then froze at the bottom when she realized what she’d heard. Future Duchess of the Night Court. The Night Court?! Feyre’s fiancé’s territory? Elain must’ve heard incorrectly. She made to go find Feyre when she heard the announcer clear his throat again.

“His Royal Highness, The Duke of The Night Court.” A murmur went through the crowd. Elain turned and couldn’t believe her eyes. Standing at the top of the steps in all his formal regalia, was Azriel. He had a very fancy navy jacket on with silver lapels, silver buttons, and navy pants. He looked for all the world like a royal, albeit a slightly nervous one. He scanned the crowns as he descended the sweeping staircase. His gaze locked with hers. She was still standing at the bottom of the steps.

His smile was wonderfully bright as he approached her side, extended an arm for her to take, and leaned over to kiss her cheek. As he did, he whispered, “I’ll explain.” His breath was delightfully warm on her ear and she shivered.

Azriel escorted her over to Rhysand and Feyre who were both grinning. She took that as a good sign. Azriel then told her his story: he was Rhys’s older half brother, but his father had wanted Rhys to be king because the love the king had for Rhys’s mother was greater than his love for Azriel’s or even their eldest brother, Cassian’s. Azriel had left to pursue a different dream, he had become a ballet dancer. A very talented and well-known one at that, Rhys had added. That was how Rhys had reconnected with Az. He had gone to see one of his shows without realizing who the principal male dancer was, and he had recognized his brother immediately. They had spent time together and written each other after that. It had been easy enough for them to see each other as Rhys had wanted to stay near the Princess that he had fallen in love with. So, it seemed, had Azriel, Feyre added with a smirk. Elain blushed. She and Azriel hadn’t said that to each other yet, but as she met his intent hazel gaze, she knew that they would soon be sharing such intimacies. It made Elain’s heart melt and her core heat as she thought of the other intimacies they would also be allowed to partake in. Azriel continued to explain how he and Rhys had written to their father, asking for Az’s title and lands to be restored to him. Azriel had also asked for the hand of his love, Princess Elain, in marriage. His father had been more than happy to welcome him to the family, apologizing for the way that he had treated Az and his mother. Elain was beyond words. She merely stared at Azriel, Duke Azriel, slack jawed and waited for him to tell her that the sky was not, in fact, blue.

“Would you care to accompany me to the gardens, Elain?”

She couldn’t say anything, so she nodded. He took her to their favorite spot in the gardens, a fountain full of lily pads with a weeping willow to the side of it and a lovely little bench surrounded by violets. He took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair(a nervous habit that Elain found quite endearing).

“There is one thing I must ask you now, El.”

“Oh?”

He dropped to one knee. Her hands flew to her mouth to stop her lips from quivering. He produced a golden ring that was surrounded by a ring of small pink diamonds on top of the band.

“My sweet Elain, you are the love of my life, the light in my darkness. Just the thought of you brings a smile to my face. I never want to be apart from you for the rest of our lives, so,” He paused to take her hand, “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” She beamed at the love in his eyes. Her own eyes were filled with tears of pure euphoria.

“Yes!” She exclaimed giddily before kissing her fiancé, the man that she would love until the end of time and beyond.

And they lived happily ever after...

#elriel #fanfiction #alternate universe #musicalfae #a court of thorns and roses #royalty au #az is cinderella #chosen #angst with a happy ending #fluff #feysand mentioned #elain archeron #azriel

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ourotps · 6 years

Text

Seeing Green

Sirius x Reader with a special power

_________________________

You were a very special witch. One that only came once every couple centuries. In fact the last one like you was simply a rumor.

You were given a very special gift, or maybe a curse. As you touched someone you were able to see how they died. You were able to see how anyone in this world died. When you were little this was terrifying and to be honest you had a very dark childhood, you were hyper aware of everything. You were always scared that tomorrow your visions would come true. But as you had grown older you had realized that these scenes were in the future, and in some cases a far off future. You wrote down your visions as you met people and were careful not to touch to many people.

At Hogwarts your gift was hidden, no one knew. You never let anyone touch you, because you were scared to see them die. You couldn't stop them from dying, it was the future. You had tried to intervene once or twice but they faced the same destiny.

"(Y/n)" a voice called slinging an arm around you. You carefully shrugged your shoulder making his arm slip off of you. When his hand accidently brushed yours, you saw a veil flap again.

"Sirius," you quietly greeted the fellow Gryffindor keeping your head down.

"How are you doing my dearest (y/n)?" He asked happily.

"I'm fine, what's got you in such a good mood Sirius?" You inquired

"Well, when I looked on the calendar I realized a certain Hogsmeade trip was coming up this weekend and I couldn't help but think of a beautiful young lady who I'd love to go with me."

"And who's that lucky girl Sirius?" You asked sarcastically.

"Well dearest (y/n), it's you of course!" He boasted trying to slip the same arm around you. His hand brushing past your neck and you saw a green flash. You gasped stopping in your tracks. He was going to be killed!

"Sirius—Siri—I can't. I'm so sorry, you must know how hard this is for me." You said stepping away from him.

"(Y/n), you know I'm crazy for you." You knew, oh merlin you knew. It was in the way he looked at you, in the ways he said your name and cared for you. It was in everything he did that you knew.

"Sirius, I know, I just don't feel that way." You lied unable to look him in the eyes. You couldn't get close and see him die every time he touch you. You wanted so much to touch him and but you couldn't because you'd just see him die.

"I know, and you know I respect that. But a man can dream."

"Tell me what's going on, you seem so down." Sirius asked noticing your glum mood.

"Nothings wrong, Sirius. I'm just tired. I'll see you after class." You promised slipping out of his sight. He sighed as you left. You were always so close but so far.

"Hi, Lily," you greeted your best friend as you took a seat next to her in divination, a class you of course excelled at.

"Oh hey, (y/n)" Lily said. She smiled happily and you noticed the green of her eyes was the same green as the flash that would kill her, James, Sirius, and Remus. All of them were to be killed and it was something only you knew.

"This class is so boring," she mumbled as the teacher went on.

"Yeah, I don't really like it either," you whispered back

"But you're probably the best in our year,"

"It's luck Lily," You mumbled. The teacher partnered you off with a new Hufflepuff student. You were forced to do a palm reading of course. As he touched your hand you saw it. He was sick in the hospital. It was a muggle hospital too. His wife presumably was next to him holding his hand. He was old, his hair grey and missing. His children, were next to him. He was going to die an old man. One with a beautiful family. You almost cried tears of joy.

A war was coming, you had long known it was on its way, perhaps before Dumbledore himself. So many people you had met, died with green flashes, it was a sign of a war coming.

When class was over you made sure of copy down the boy's name and his death scene. You had done this for everyone, you couldn't tell anyone so you wrote it down in a journal. It helped you cope. Walking out of the class you were met with Sirius who always waited outside your class for you. He was sweet alright.

"My sweet (y/n)," Sirius greeted taking a step next to you like always.

"My dear Sirius, how can I help you?"

"Hogsmead," he said wiggling his eyebrows

"Nope," you replied smiling and shaking your head. At this point it felt like a game. How many times would he ask you, and how many times would you reject him.

"Marry me," Sirius joked taking a seat out in the courtyard.

"Can't do that one either," You answered laughing a bit. Sirius' acted fake hurt he clutched his head and fell to the floor acting like he was dying.

"Oi, (y/n) only your sweet lips can save me!" He cried dramatically fake dying on the floor

"Well, I guess I'll see you in the afterlife." You tell him dramatically stepping over him to sit on the bench. The two of you sat and talked until dinner. When you got up to leave you carelessly left your journal behind. It was a careless stupid mistake that you would regret.

______

"Hey (y/n) I believe this is yours." Sirius said dropping a journal on your lap. You looked up surprised from your textbook. You hadn't even thought that the journal was missing.

"Sirius! Wow! Thank you so much!" You replied relieved to have this back in your possession.

"Ummm...did you read this?" You asked worried suddenly.

"No, don't worry (y/n). I knew it was yours, you always have this bloody thing with you. It's private and I didn't want to intrude." He answered sweetly and he started to walk away. He was telling the truth and it nice that he didn't read your journal. He had the power to know your deepest secrets but respected you enough to not intrude.

"Sirius, wait." You called surprised at yourself. He stopped in his tracks and turned around. You patted on the empty space next to you for him to take a seat next to you. He did so quickly noticing your glum state.

"What is it?" He asked worried

"Sirius, I really appreciate that you didn't read this. I—I want you to know why I can't go out with you. I do like you Sirius, and I think you know that." Your cheeks heated up at the last sentence. Sirius laughed and nodded. "But I can't, and I feel like I owe you an explanation."

"You don't owe me anything." His hand reached for yours. You heard a scream of a young boy, you shivered. You quickly moved it away.

"No, Sirius, please. I want you to know. I trust you." You placed the journal in his hands.

"Read this, and know everything in here is true. Read this and get back to me okay?" You bravely told him giving him a quick kiss on his cheek. You saw the boy now, with a lightning scar. You left the common room and went up to your dorm.

There was a feeling of relief you felt. Someone would know your secret now. Someone you loved. Someone you trusted, someone who would never hurt you. You felt such relief and fear. After a few hours you heard a soft knock on your door.

"(Y/n)" Sirius had red lined eyes. He'd been crying.

"Sirius," You wanted to cry too.

"Darling, I really want to hug you right now, but I know it'll just make it worse." Sirius said laughing with wet eyes. Breaking one of your biggest rules you ran into his arms hugging him. You saw Remus holding back the boy. Remus looked older, Sirius still had time. Remus had time. You started balling, when you heard your own cry. You were going to be there when he died.

"Shhhh, (y/n), it's okay. It'll be okay," Sirius whispered holding you as you saw the veil flap again.

"I can't keep seeing you die. I can't do it, I can't keep seeing the person I love the most die every time he touches me Sirius," you cried out. His lips kissed your forehead.

"(Y/n) I love you so much. I'm so sorry." He said kissing your face, both wet with tears. He finally let go of you, but you couldn't stop seeing the green flash.

He never touched you again.

#Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #Sirius Black #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #gryffindor #fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction

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victortortor · 5 years

Text

With every passing moment I grow fonder of the stupid Jotaro/Anasui rare pair

After Stone Ocean I was very underwhelmed by Anasui and his psychopath “nice guy” schtick. Kind of just not cool as a love interest. Crazy ass dude.

But now? Now I’m like Anasui discourse is stupid. I can’t believe people are saying things like “he’s actually a horrible person and should be in jail.” Like why is there even an argument over this? Anasui is so absolutely horrible, and it’s funny. I love him so much. Why are all of you booing me, I’m right.

ANYWAY my point was actually that Jotaro/Anasui is the superior rare pair ship. Cause like. Consider:

Narciso Anasui had known Jolyne, the drop dead, gorgeous woman in his chemistry course for all of ten minutes before he realized that he had met the most beautiful, loving person in the world. This was the highest the point in his life-- the climax. It was only going to go down after this. She was the answer to everything.

He proceeded to tell her this as soon as class ended, and had gotten punched in the eye in the hall.

She was so strong. So independent. So gorgeous and deadly. Anasui had scrambled to his feet, looking at his madonna in utter adoration. “Thank you!” He had cried. “I love you, Jolyne!”

Jolyne had taken another look at him, squinted, then exchanged glances with the friend that she had been sitting next to in class. “Hermes,” she said, “do you know this guy?”

"Uh, no.”

Jolyne shrugged at that, then punched Anasui again-- this time, in the left eye.

After that, they became the dearest of friends. He was graciously invited to lunch with their friend group-- they quickly discovered Weather as their one mutual friend-- and before long, he and Jolyne were progressing quickly in their relationship.

“There’s... no relationship,” F.F. pointed out while Anasui was explaining this. “Jolyne literally couldn’t give less a shit about you.”

“Oh, hush,” Hermes said. “Let the poor boy speak, he’s so agitated.”

And as most couples tended to do after a few months, Anasui was introduced to Jolyne’s father-- the one she always spoke about. The way her voice would become difficult and contradicting when she talked about him only represented the deep feelings she held towards him, making Anasui understand just how important he was to her.

“Weird way to say she’s got daddy issues, but ok. Sure. Keep going.”

He promised himself that he would make a good first impression. He wanted her father’s permission for marriage, after all.

“Dude, you’re fucking nuts,” Hermes said, though not unkindly -- not really in any manner, actually. It was just a statement of fact.

But.

But if meeting Jolyne was like catching a falling star with your bare hands, looking at all its light and glory in your palm, then meeting her father was like running into a roaring inferno of flame. The fire was hot and burning, and while you were fighting for your life, you felt a rush unlike any other -- and all of a sudden, that fire was a star in your palm, threatening to combust at any moment.

“And that’s a good thing?”

“Guess so.”

Anasui finally turned around, finally ending his monologue. He felt as his nerves were on fire from adrenaline. “His face,” he hissed, “It was like Michelangelo himself sculpted it!”

F.F. scratched her boob. “Did it look like that?”

“His cold, pure persona and perfect body -- like the gods themselves blessed it!”

Hermes nodded politely. Unfortunately for Anasui, all of his friends were normal, sensible people that tended to not find their friends’ dads hot. “Does this mean you’re gonna stop proposing to Jolyne now? Damn, how am I gonna get entertained during chem now?”

“I must have him,” Anasui announced. “Jolyne says he’s divorced, and single. All I have to do is make him fall for me.”

At this, Weather Report finally stirred. He had fallen asleep -- or, at least, had been faking sleep remarkably well -- on the couch adjacent to the one Anasui was pacing besides. “I know his address,” he said softly. “It’s not too far from here.”

Anasui whirled around. “How do you know that.”

“Jolyne let me stay over once.”

Anasui would have been jealous just 5 hours ago, when he was still under the mistaken impression that Jolyne was the most gorgeous specimen of a person in the world. As it was, he simply swallowed up the info and sped out.

Approximately half an hour later, Anasui rung a doorbell.

The door swung open right when he was debating pressing the button again, and the man of his dreams, the gift from god himself, the male Adonis that had graced his life, opened the entrance into his life.

Anasui was awestruck, almost near tears.

After an unmeasurable amount of silence, Jotaro Kujo finally spoke.

“You’re Jolyne’s friend. Do you need something?”

“I do,” Anasui said. “Mr. Jotaro, will you marry me?”

Jotaro was silent for a while, and as his heart pounded in the gap between words, Anasui only grew more hopelessly in love.

“You’re not like anyone I’ve met before,” he declared. “Your heart is pure, and your character shining with justice and truth. You’re unblemished with goodness. You’re not like those other normal people, who cheat and lie to their partners. I know you’d be the perfect husband. Please, I’ll do anything to make myself worthy of you.”

Jotaro said, “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“Anything you want of me, I will do it,” Anasui proclaimed. “I love you like I love no other.”

Jotaro considered him again, and slowly closed the door in his face.

#jjba #jotaro #anasui #its just #horrible little gremlin anasui trying to spread love in his stupid incel ways #tired old man: jolyne why are your friends so weird #tired old man: 'im too old for this shit'

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romanticatheart-posts · 6 years

Text

King Sized Revelations - 2

In this chapter, we will meet Liam’s mother by way of a letter she wrote many years ago. You are interrupted by a phone call from Liam and have a little family time with Regina and Constantine.

NSFW! Pixelberry owns all characters but I do love writing about them! Enjoy!

You are in your office holding the letter Constantine gave you just minutes ago. It is a letter from Liam’s mother, written to the woman he chose to be his bride.

You slowly unfold it as your heart begins to thump wildly in your chest. Taking a deep breath… you begin to read…

My dearest daughter,

Let me start by saying it is not my wish to introduce myself to you in this manner and yet somehow, there is a feeling within me that I won’t be there the day my sweet Liam marries the love of his life. As dismal as this all may seem to you, I still want to be a part of your life. Even if only in memory. I’m sure you’ve been told many things about me by now, but I want you to know me as a woman and not just as a queen, wife, and mother. I suspect you and I share many similarities in our thoughts and overall character. I’ve tried to imagine the kind of person my son would fall in love with and ultimately marry and I must believe that even though he is bound by the expectations of being royalty, Liam will never let the court decide that direction of his life. Only his beautiful heart will control that outcome.

Since you are the woman he has chosen to spend the rest of his life with, I wish to give you my most heartfelt blessing. And if I know my darling son, he was most likely in love with you long before he would even admit it to himself. I have often observed how he will sit for hours carefully planning an activity. It amazes me how he considers every possibility before making any type of decision. When he realized his feelings for you, he quite possibly considered more of the impact his life would impose upon you than the attachment he felt. I am certain he left no stone unturned and when he finally confessed his love for you, there were no questions left to answer. His decision was unequivocal.

Liam has a kind and generous heart and he genuinely loves those closest to him, but I believe that falling in love means more than a casual emotion, and his vision of love is deep and abiding. Several months ago, he and his circle of friends were play acting, as most children do at this age. But, when it came time for him to choose a ‘wife’, he would not participate. He just walked away and as he approached me, I could see that he was troubled. When I asked him why he didn’t want to play with the others, he simply said, “Mother, they want me to choose a wife.” I explained that all children play this game in one form or another, but he was not going to be one of them. He said, “Being in love should not be a game and I won’t pretend to be married to someone I do not love.” I couldn’t argue with that. Even at this youthful age, he knows love and marriage are to be revered…

You sit back for a moment… thinking how Constantine had expected him to do that very thing. You ache inside at how close it was to becoming a reality and how miserable his life would have been. Thank God fate had stepped in and saved you both from a dismal existence. Turning back to the letter, you continue reading…

I was very proud of him at that moment and I couldn’t help but smile. He dashed up to his room and I followed. Right before entering I overheard him talking to his favorite stuffed animal, so I stopped to listen. “When I’m ready to choose a wife, she won’t be like any of these girls at court. She will be smart, beautiful and kind and she won’t care that I’m a prince. She’ll love me for who I am and not because of a dumb title.” Those words penetrated to the very depths of my soul from the moment I heard them spurt from his mouth. Instead of going in, I slowly backed away to give him this moment of privacy. He has such a beautiful heart and I’m sure that is just one of the many reasons you fell in love with him, to begin with.

Liam does have a beautiful heart and she is right, it is only one of the many reasons you fell in love with him. You marvel at how perceptive she was and is about him.

I must assume that you are not a noblewoman by birth, as I know my son and he has never taken an interest in the lifestyle to which he was born. He wants so desperately to just be a 'normal’ person and I can’t imagine that will ever change. Also, I have read that most men will marry a woman with qualities like their mother and women will marry similarly to their fathers. If this is true, then I will believe you are a commoner like myself and possibly quite tenacious and down-to-earth. Which brings me to the next point of this letter… I was determined to create a life of my own and the only way to do that was to move away from my home and family. They were not direct descendants of nobility, so I had no aspirations of ever becoming Queen of Cordonia. Upon arriving at the capital, I immediately secured employment as an assistant to one of the local florist’s. I became quite skilled at arranging and assembling the flowers, much to my own surprise.

There was to be a ball at the palace within the week and the royal florist had closed its doors for mourning, due to a death in the family. With over one hundred matching centerpieces needing to be created, our little shop was hired to complete this seemingly impossible task. We worked night and day for three days straight, only sleeping in shifts on a cot in the back room. As embarrassing as it might sound, I’m not sure I ever went that long without a full bath, or proper nutrition, but when we finished on time, the accomplishment far outweighed any inconvenience.

Two days after the ball, and our recovery from sleep deprivation and mal-nourishment, we were visited by the King of Cordonia. He wanted to thank us for accepting the job on such short notice and to offer an official request to become the new royal florist! Of course, the owner accepted, and I could see that Constantine wasn’t as interested in that as he was with me. I already knew that his first marriage had ended in an annulment after she abandoned him and their young son. My heart went out to him and how hard it must have been trying to raise his child alone… It wasn’t long after, that he began to frequent the shop, usually, around the time we would close for lunch. For weeks, we spent that time getting to know each other and one day, in front of the store owner and his own guards, he asked if I would be interested in spending some time with him away from the shop and I eagerly accepted. By then, I had fallen in love with him and I was convinced that he felt the same.

After ten months of proper courtship, we announced our engagement… much to the dismay of the nobles at court… They only saw me as a simple commoner who would most likely be the reason for the fall of the monarchy… To my surprise, Constantine didn’t let that deter him from making me his queen. It was hard, but in those few short months before the wedding, I had gained the support of most everyone in the court, not to mention the people. Now, I can’t take all the credit but what mattered the most to me was that I would be with the man I loved… nobles and their arrogance be damned! I know Constantine can be quite commanding in his duties as the king but in private… he is the most loving and romantic man any woman could hope for. It’s why I fell in love with him, to begin with.

After we were married, one of my primary duties as queen was looking after Leo. He is quite boisterous but is always polite and kind to me. I never tried to take his own mother’s place, but I never objected to him calling me mother either. It was very rewarding caring for Leo, but what I wanted more than anything was a child of my own. I’ll never forget the day I learned that my dream would soon become a reality. After the arrival of this precious gift, my life was complete. Having the title of the queen has its advantages, but there is nothing more rewarding than being a mother. Once you’ve experienced it for yourself, you will know exactly what I mean… Motherhood is bliss!

Just then, your phone rings. As you pick it up, you see it’s Liam and smile.

“Hello, sweetheart!” “It’s so good to hear your voice, my love.” “I miss you already.” “I missed you the moment I left this morning.” “Aww, Liam…you are so sweet.” “Only to you. So how has your day been My Queen?” “Okay I guess, but I did have an interesting conversation with your father this morning.” “Oh? What about?” “He mentioned your coronation and…” “Why would he bring that up again?” “I think he wanted some closure and maybe he just really feels bad about what he did.” “Only because you unveiled his scheme. He wouldn’t have given it a second thought otherwise.” “I don’t know Liam… I’m not so sure he didn’t want it to be revealed. He said he’d lost sight of the things that were important, and that he’d let power control his better judgment.” “That’s an understatement.” “He was very sincere Liam and asked for our forgiveness.” “Oh. And how did you respond?” “Well, speaking for myself I told him I already had.” “Things between us have been less tense but I’m not so sure I’m ready to just forget that it ever happened.” “I don’t think he expects you to forget it, but I think he would like the opportunity to apologize. If you could have seen him this morning… he was in tears remembering how devastated you were when you saw those pictures of me and Tariq. I think he truly regrets the whole thing.” “Catherine, I never doubted your integrity, not even for a moment, but it was hard for me to see you in the arms of another man…” “I can only imagine what was going through your mind at the time.” “I’ve thought the same about you… At that moment though, I was so conflicted… my happiness or your safety. In retrospect, there are many things I would have done differently… I have my own share of regrets from that horrible night Catherine.” “I know… and I understand all of it but what truly matters is that we’re together…. I wish I were in your arms right now Liam.” “So do I.”

There is a slight pause in conversation as you begin to imagine him holding you close, his breath gently caressing your skin… you sigh.

“Catherine, is something wrong?” “No, no. I was just… thinking about you actually…” “Oh? And what were you thinking exactly?” “I was thinking… how much I want you right now…” “Catherine…"

Another pause… and when he speaks you can almost hear the smile in his voice.

"Tell the staff to add an extra place setting. I will be arriving in a couple of hours.” “But, what about the summit? Shouldn’t you stay and finish?” “I can leave early in the morning and make it back in time before the next one starts. They won’t even miss me.” “You’re serious, aren’t you?” “Of course I’m serious. You can’t expect me to neglect my queen in her time of need. And besides, I have a few of my own…” “Mmmm… what should I be expecting?” “Whatever Her Majesty desires…” “And what does His Majesty desire?” “Before or after we undress?” “After… of course.” “Hmm… let’s just say I won’t stop until you’re completely and utterly satisfied…”

His breath becomes shallow.

“… whatever it takes…” “Mmmm… I can’t wait for you to get here…” “I promise to make it worth the wait. I’ll see you soon my love.”

You hang up, your face flushed, and a smile slowly reaches your lips. Liam will be home in a few hours, and you have a few things to prepare. You take the letter and place it in the desk drawer and head down to the kitchen to inform staff that their king will be home for dinner tonight. Then you find Constantine and Regina in the sitting room.

“Liam has decided to join us for dinner tonight.” “Has the summit concluded already?” “My, that was prompt.” “No, not yet. He wanted to have dinner with us tonight and plans to leave first thing in the morning.” “I hope this won’t become his usual practice for heaven’s sake. The cost of jet fuel is astronomical.” “Now Constantine, surely you wouldn’t begrudge these two over a little jet fuel. After all, they are still newlyweds.”

You blush as Regina smiles and Constantine suddenly grasps her meaning.

“Oh! Well… I wouldn’t want a couple of thousand gallons of fuel coming between young love. I look forward to seeing him. Are we still on for six?” “Yes. And I need to finish a few things before he gets here, so I’ll see you two then.” “Certainly dear.”

You make your way upstairs to your bedroom suite and immediately start rummaging through your wardrobe. Finally, you find the perfect dress. It’s a low cut, wrap around that emphasizes your curves and allows easy access…

“Perfect!”

You hurry to the bathroom and turn on the water for a quick bath. Afterward, you get dressed and head to your office with the intent to busy yourself until Liam arrives. Upon entering, the familiar pile of documents still sits on the table, awaiting your attention and signature. Before beginning, you search the playlist of tunes on your phone and after placing the earbuds in each ear, you start. With the diversion of singing aloud and swaying to the music, time goes by quickly… and before you know it, you’ve reached the end of the stack. Just then your favorite song starts playing so you stand and reach for the stapler on your desk. Holding it as if it were a microphone, you close your eyes and start singing along while the beat of the music finds you dancing in perfect rhythm… as you are about to hit the high notes you to look up to see Liam standing in the doorway observing you with a smile. Startled, you immediately drop the stapler onto the desk and your earbuds right next to it… then you smile at him.

“Liam…” “Don’t stop on my account.”

He steps in and closes the door as you run toward him jumping into his arms. He immediately catches you and your lips meet in a sweltering kiss, sending currents of heat throughout your body.

“How long were you standing there?” “Long enough… I was quite enjoying your performance.”

You kiss him fervently as he carries you to the edge of the desk, quickly clearing a spot… his lips never part from yours. You reach to pull off his jacket and begin unbuttoning his shirt as he continues to bathe you in heated kisses.

“What about dinner?” “I have more important things to tend to at the moment…”

You remove his shirt, caressing his chest and arms and then down to his belt. He steps back for a moment and hurriedly pulls it off. You continue to remove his pants and underwear as they fall around his ankles and he steps out of them, kicking them to the side. He quickly loosens the first tie of your dress… sliding it over your shoulders and off…

“Mmmm…”

His hand grasping the curve, he kisses from your neck to your breast… drawing sensual circles with his tongue and nibbling at the tip. With your head tilted back, and your eyes closed, you relish every moment of his touch on your skin.

“Oh, Liam…”

His kisses trail up to your neck and then find your lips again. You reach down slowly, taking him in your hand, stroking his erection with fervor as his breathing becomes rapid and in a raspy voice he speaks your name…

“Oh, Catherine…”

As he removes the dress from the rest of your body, he lets out a deep groan when he discovers you are completely bare. His hand delves down, gently caressing your sweet spot and with tender strokes, he penetrates you with his fingers. You respond with a lively moan, moving against him until you are drenched and on the verge of spasm. With one hand gripping your thigh to pull you closer, he grasps your hair with the other and brings your face to his, thirst in his eyes. With your legs wrapped around him, you can feel the heat of his erection leaning near your wet folds, almost begging to penetrate… He kisses you, nipping at your lower lip then kisses a line to your ear and whispers softly…

“I love you…” “Prove it…”

Without hesitation, he plunges into you with such force that you yelp in surprise, grasping his muscled forearms… but soon pleasure overtakes you, and you release a soft moan as his hips rock steadily against yours… your body responding with equal rhythm.

“Oh, how I need you… Catherine… always…” "I love you, Liam, …so much…” “I love you…”

His kisses are deep and hot as he begins to drive harder, faster… his hands clutching your thighs until he feels you quiver in ecstasy and with one last powerful push, he releases inside you as a wave of warmth flows through your body.

“Liam…Ohhh, Liam…” “Catherine…you are so beautiful…”

You collapse into each other’s arms until the trembling subsides…When you both catch your breath, Liam lifts you off the desk and smiles. “Have you noticed how each time we’re together, it’s always better than the last?” You start gathering your clothes. “I have. What do you think it means?” “I’m not sure…it could be that our love is so strong that it allows us to connect on a much deeper level… as if you know what I need before I do and vice versa.” “Liam, I knew we were soulmates, from day one.” He kisses you and then smiles as you both get dressed and head to your bedroom.

After cleaning up you each put on fresh clothes, then make your way to the dining room where Constantine and Regina are waiting.

“Liam, good to see you son.” “Father, Regina, it’s good to be home tonight.” “We were just about to begin without you two. I wasn’t sure if you had decided not to join us after all.”

She smiles almost as if she knows what just happened in your office. Liam holds out your chair and once seated, he takes the one next to you. Servers bring out the spread and each of you begin helping yourself.

“We are only a few minutes late, but we appreciate your patience.” “Were you able to discuss the platform yet?” “Not yet. I will be presented immediately following lunch tomorrow.” “Oh, that might work to our advantage. Everyone will be more relaxed after a good meal. Keep me informed along the way. I’m anxious to see how Cordonia is received.” “Certainly father.” “I’m actually glad you came back tonight. I have a bit of news I would like to share.” “I’m listening.” “I saw my doctor this morning…” “And?” “And, you know I was placed on a new treatment plan recently and… well, the report came in today.” “What were the results?” “It seems there is a bit of improvement.” “How much of an improvement?” “Enough that my cancer has slowed in progression and with continued treatment, it’s quite possible to achieve remission.” “That is wonderful news father! And I just noticed that you’re not in your wheelchair. This is new.” “I would prefer if you didn’t refer to it as my wheelchair… that thing is such a nuisance. I decided to put it away and try walking more… to build up my strength. ” “So how’s that going?” “Very well actually. And as for my other issues, the lightheadedness is all but gone and the nausea is being well controlled with medicine.” “I am relieved to hear that father. It’s good to know that there is finally some hope.” “Enough about that. I have other news as well. Catherine mentioned the Apple Festival this morning and I had neglected to mention that your brother might be in attendance with his family.” “I don’t know if I can stand any more good news. It will be good to see him and meet his family after all this time.” “It will be wonderful having the entire family in attendance for a change. I have missed many opportunities with regard to that and I hope you won’t make that same mistake Liam.”

Liam looks at you with a smile, taking your hand and kissing it gently.

“Father, nothing is more important to me than family and spending time with the ones I love… And one in particular.” “I’ll make sure he doesn’t forget.” “Catherine, since this will be your first time organizing the festival, will you be needing any assistance with preparations?” “Actually, I was going to ask you about that. I’m not sure about the decorations and I want to keep it as close to tradition as possible. Would you mind giving me a few pointers?” “Of course not. To be perfectly honest, I have missed certain duties of being queen and it would be a pleasure to help any way I can.” “And, I can learn from one of the best in the process.”

Regina laughs appreciatively.

“Oh dear, I don’t know about that, but I’ll be at your disposal. And don’t underestimate yourself. You have done quite well without my help so far.” “I do my best but I’m sure there is a lot more to learn.” “You have mastered many tasks my love and I am very proud to have you as my queen.” “Well thank you, Liam. You’re not so bad yourself.”

Liam laughs, as does Constantine and Regina. Once everyone is finished eating, you all sit back and relax for a moment.

“That was a very satisfying meal, as is the company.” “I’ll second that father.” “Would you just look at us… I think you might say we’re behaving somewhat like a family.” “Yes…it’s quite refreshing isn’t it?”

Everyone smiles pleasantly at each other but no one responds to Regina’s question. Obviously, it is agreed. Liam breaks the silence.

“Father, do you need my assistance before Catherine and I retire?” “No, I still have my nurse you know. No need to make a fuss. And besides, you have an early day tomorrow, so you should get some rest.” “Very well. Regina, do you need help getting him upstairs?” “Actually, he’s walking quite well but thank you. We’ll manage.” “If you are sure then, we shall bid you both goodnight.” “Good night my children.” “Sleep well you two.” “And you as well dear.”

Liam stands, looking at you expectantly and you rise from the table, taking his outstretched hand with a smile. As you exit the dining room, you walk hand-in-hand toward the stairs.

“Hey, Liam?” “Yes, love.” “Would you mind if we took a stroll through the gardens?” “I think I can manage for a moment or two.”

You continue walking until you’re outside and in the palace gardens. The breeze of the summer air caresses your skin and gives you a peaceful sensation.

“So, why the gardens My Queen?” “I just thought we could both use some fresh air.” “Good idea. It is a beautiful night, but would you mind if we sat on the bench?” “Not at all.”

As you both sit, Liam drapes his arm around you and you lean against him laying your head on his shoulder. A wave of serenity falls over you and you sigh.

“Something on your mind?” “No, I’m just happy you came home tonight.” “You were very persuasive.” “Yeah, I have that effect on people.” “I’d call it a gift.”

You both look up to the stars dancing around in the open sky and listen to the crickets chirping and the leaves rustling in the trees.

“Liam, do you remember the Masquerade Ball?” “Of course I remember. It was the second time I laid eyes on the most beautiful sight I had ever seen…” “Aww, you’re such a romantic…”

“I’m only telling the truth, my love.” “What were you thinking that night when you realized I had come here as one of the suitors?”

Liam smiles fondly. “I spotted you long before you made your identity known… And to be perfectly honest, I wanted it to be you. But I had to keep telling myself that it simply couldn’t be. You can only imagine my joy and surprise when I realized the woman of my dreams had traveled all this way just for me. I mean, after that night in New York, I never thought I’d see you again.“ "So you thought about me after you left New York?” “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Catherine. The truth is, I was in love with you then… even though I wouldn’t let myself admit to it. When I got back to the hotel that night, I felt so empty. I had let the most incredible woman I’d ever met, walk out of my life for what I thought would be forever.” “You know, after I walked back to my apartment that night, I remember thinking that same thing. How could I have fallen in love with someone I’d just met? Before I knew it, I was sitting on the edge of my bed laughing at the irony of it and didn’t even realize I was crying too until a few drops fell on my arm.”

Liam pulls you closer.

“Oh Catherine, I never knew…” “Even with no promise of anything more, I couldn’t stop thinking about you and how meeting you had changed my life. I felt alive for the first time and I was never going to be the same again. We truly had a special connection and I had to come here and find out for myself if it was real, because no one would have ever measured up to you in my eyes.“ "That’s exactly how I felt Catherine… That night was no accidental meeting between two strangers, it was preordained to bring us together.” “Yeah. I’m glad we didn’t disappoint the stars.” “Can you even imagine what things would have been like for both of us had you not followed your heart?” “I’m glad we’ll never know.” “My life would have been so empty without you…”

Liam reaches under your chin, tilting your head up and kisses you softly, slowly. You pull him closer, pressing against his body, wrapping your arms around him as the kiss quickly becomes inflamed with passion. He pulls back for a moment, a hunger in his eyes…

“Shall we take this upstairs?” “You read my mind.”

You both rise from the bench and make your way back into the palace, up the stairs and finally to your bedroom. As soon as the door closes behind you, he kisses you fervently and as if by magic the clothes begin to fall, piece by piece, all around the room. He leads you to the bed where you lie down pulling him with you. He blankets you with kisses as he slides down your body and pauses looking up at you. He smiles a devious smile as his hand delves to your inner thighs and watches your reaction to his roving fingers. You open your legs to accommodate him as he slowly kisses you to your core. He groans when he tastes you and with his tongue probing deeper, you let out a gratified whimper.

“Liam…” “Mmmm… you taste so sweet…”

His hands grasping your thighs tightly as he continues his pursuit of giving you pleasure, relishing every moment himself. When he slides back up to take your lips again, you shift your body, turning him over until he is laying on his back and you are balanced above him smiling confidently.

“What’s this?” “You’ll see.”

He smiles, eagerly awaiting your next move. You bend down and kiss him hard and he moans in approval. He urgently grabs your waist but releases when you begin tracing a line of kisses down his neck, over his chest and down until you reach his length. You take him in your hand and kiss the tip ever so slightly.

“Oh, Catherine…”

Then you let your tongue roll over the top for a moment before slowly taking him in your mouth. His breathing heavy and he groans deeply as you devour him repeatedly.

“Ohhh…Catherine, don’t stop…stop…”

As he struggles to keep from exploding, he reaches for you, but you’re not quite finished yet. You flash him a smile and slide your tongue from the bottom of his length all the way up and quickly draw the tip into your mouth, tasting him as a trace suddenly escapes. He urgently pulls you up as you straddle him and without hesitation, he guides your hips and slides inside you. You hold onto the headboard for leverage as you steadily move against him, he eagerly matches your pace. With the heat intensifying, you quicken the rhythm and once he feels you tremble, a fire bursts inside you with uninhibited power.

“Liam… yes…” “Ohhh… Catherine.”

You collapse on his chest as you both lay breathless. Afterward, you roll to his side and he pulls you close… you lay your head on his chest as he strokes your arm affectionately. Both of you content and satisfied.

“You continue to amaze me, Catherine.” “So I take it you approve.” “Definitely.” “There’s more where that came from.” “I almost didn’t make it this time…”

He suddenly laughs.

“What?” “I just wonder what you would have done if I hadn’t resisted.” “You should have let me finish.” “How would I ever satisfy My Queen if I had let that happen?” “I’m sure you’d figure something out.” “I’m glad you think so.”

He smiles and leans over placing a sweet kiss on your lips. You sigh in contentment.

“Let’s get cleaned up and then try to get some sleep. I think two flights in one day has finally caught up with me.” “Not to mention other activities that might have contributed to your fatigue.” “I’ll never get enough of you Catherine, fatigued or otherwise.”

You both get up and head to the bathroom to freshen up. Once finished you climb into bed and curl up against Liam. He wraps you in the warmth of his arms and kisses your forehead, sighing in contentment.

“I’m so glad you came home. I sleep much better with you next to me.” “Me too my love.” “If only I hadn’t planned that charity brunch tomorrow I could have made the trip with you.” “We should coordinate our schedules a bit better in the future.” “At least I have you for tonight.” “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else love.”

You lean over kissing him and then lay your head on his chest as he pulls you closer and smiles.

“Goodnight, my queen.” “Goodnight, my king.”

Soon you are both fast asleep.

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092219archive · 6 years

Text

incorrect fe8 quotes

ft. Eren

Ephraim, to an enemy: I’ll take you down! Come, Eren!

Eren:

Ephraim: Ere- Are... Are you red? In the face?

Eren: W-Well... the way you said that was...

Ephraim: Eren, it’s not the time for that.

Enemy: Really? Right in front of my salad?

Eirika: What’s the worst decision you’ve made while drunk?

Eren: I don’t mean to brag, but I don’t need alcohol to make really bad decisions.

Ephraim, after protecting Eren from further enemy attacks: Are you alright?

Eren:

Eren: I might need mouth-to-mouth CPR.

Ephraim: I will protect you. Just believe in me and follow my lead.

Eren: And if I don’t?

Ephraim: Then perish.

Ephraim: By the way, Eren... Is there anything you want currently?

Eren: Huh?

Ephraim, internally: Knowing Eren like I do, they’ll simply say something like, “Oh, Ephraim, I’ll be more than happy if you ust keep watching over me,” and I won’t have to--

Eren: A new set of armor... for my wyvern and I...

Ephraim: New sets of armor, you say...

Eren: Make sure to think before you speak. It’s a very important skill that you need for life.

Myrrh: Is that what you do, Eren?

Eren: Me? No, absolutely not. The words that come out of my mouth are as raw as fish.

Fomortiis: Mark my words! I will take away your happiness, no matter the cost!

Eren: My happiness...?

Eren: You think I’m happy?

Eren: Hey! I’m Eren, and this is my ex-boyfriend.

Ephraim: Haven’t I told you to stop calling me that?

Ephraim: Apologies, I’m Ephraim -- their husband.

Eren: Then, the officer said, “Anything you say can and will be held against you.”

Eren: So, I said, “Ephraim.”

Tana: Go tell them about your feelings, Ephraim!

Ephraim, awkwardly: You! You, uh... You fight good.

Eren, visibly disappointed: Oh. Thanks.

Eren: I am the strongest soldier known to man. The story of my awful deeds have spread across Magvel, to instill fear into the people, to gain the upper hand, to ensure Grado’s victory in this war. I will destroy and murder anyone who crosses my path.

Ephraim: *laughs*

Eren: I am a teenager with a crush.

Eren: About a week ago, I accidentally slept with Ephraim.

Tana: ... Really?

Eren: Yes.

Tana: You slept with Ephraim?

Eren: Yes.

Tana: Accidentally?

Eren: Yes.

Tana: I don’t understand, did you trip over something?

*First time being introduced to the rest of Ephraim’s army*

Ephraim: Just be yourself, say something nice.

Eren: Which one? I can’t be both.

Enemy: Go to hell!

Eren, quickly taking them out: Guess there’s no place like home.

Priest: Now, repeat after me-

Eren: After me.

Priest, whispering to Ephraim: Are you sure you want to marry this one?

Innes: Eren, I am-

Innes, putting his fingers together: -THIS close to smacking you.

Eren: Your fingers are touching.

Innes: Exactly.

Eren:

Innes:

*Eren immediately bolts, Innes trailing not to far behind*

Ephraim: So, I have this pretty rock that Eren gave me.

Eren: I threw it at you.

Eren: Ephraim and I are no longer friends.

Ephraim: That is the worst way to tell people we’re dating.

Eren: Ephraim sneezed earlier and I accidentally said, “shut the fuck up” instead of, “bless you.”

Innes: How do you accidentally say, “shut the fuck up?”

Eirika: It’s a little chilly...

Seth, offering his jacket: Here, my coat, Princess.

Eirika: Thank you, Seth.

Eren: I’m cold, Ephraim.

Ephraim: I can’t control the weather, Eren.

Eren: Ephraim... I can’t have children.

Ephraim: You can’t? Why?

Eren: Because I fucking hate kids.

Eren: Guess what I’m about to get?

Innes: On my nerves.

Eren: Who ate my fries? I’m gonna fucking b-

Myrrh: Oh... I did.

Eren: -buy you some more. You haven’t been eating enough.

Forde: I’m crying.

Forde: You made me cry.

Eren: Baby...

Forde: Now isn’t the time for pet names, Eren.

Eren:

Eren: I’m calling you a baby.

Eren: I’m insulting you.

Eren: Maybe hot chocolate wants to be called beautiful chocolate sometimes.

Innes: Maybe you should shut up.

Eren, uncomfortable: Why are you squeezing my body?

Ephraim: It’s a hug, Eren. I’m hugging you.

Myrrh, to Colm: You should ask Eren for help.

Myrrh: They look happy today.

Eren: *scowling*

Colm: ... Are we looking at the same person?

Ephraim: What are you two up to?

Ephraim: Oh! Eren seems to be in a good mood today.

Ephraim: I’ll give you a few minutes to cancel the rest of your plans for the day.

Eren: No need. My only plan was to buy Skittles.

Ephraim: Eren, we should be partners.

Eren: Like, partners in crime?

Ephraim: Yeah, er... that’s what I meant.

Ephraim: *gets a papercut*

Eren, under their breath: Hasn’t he been through enough?

Eirika: Who’s turn is it to give the pep-talk?

Innes, sighing: Eren...

Eren: Fuck shit up out there, and don’t die.

Ephraim, wiping a tear from his eye: Inspirational.

*Eren and their anger levels*

Eren (normal): Hey.

Eren (30%): Don’t do that again, Eph.

Eren (90%): If you don’t cut that out, Ephraim, I’m going to resort to unorthodox methods.

Eren (500%): We need to talk, Prince of Renais.

Eren: Hey, Eph. Your birthday is coming up. What do you want?

Ephraim: Thanks for asking, but I wouldn’t worry too much about it.

Eren: I already asked, so spill it out.

Ephraim: Alright, then. How about...

Ephraim: Your heart?

Eren: Don’t ask for something you already have.

Eren, realizing what they said: Wait--

Ephraim: *genuinely pleased despite doing nothing*

Eren: Don’t look at me like that.

Eren: Ephraim, wait.

Ephraim: ?

Eren: W... Will you go out with me?

Ephraim: Sure.

*Outside*

Ephraim: Why did you want to go out, Eren?

Eren: *internally screaming*

Eren: Okay. Stay calm. Stay calm...

Lute: Everyone is calm, Eren.

Eren: I’m talking to myself.

Ephraim: *feels slightly upset*

Eren: *kicks down the door of the room Ephraim’s in*

Eren: It’s motherfucking hug time.

Aaron: You really love my sibling, don’t you?

Ephraim: I do.

Aaron: Gods help you.

Eren: Alright, listen up, you little shits.

Eren: Not you, Eirika. You’re an angel and we’re thrilled to have you here.

Neimi: Eren’s losing a lot of blood!

Neimi: What’s your blood type?

Eren: B positive...

Neimi, crying: I’m trying!!

Ephraim: Hey, Eren. The password is 4177122.

Eren: The password to what?

Ephraim: To the wifi when you come over tonight.

Eren: Ohhh! You’re my favorite type of peanut butter!

Eren: SMOOTH

Eren: You’re so clingy.

Ephraim: You... came into MY bed?

Eren: You like me? For my personality?

Ephraim: I was surprised, too.

Eren: Wow, Eph! I wish I could pull off that outfit.

Ephraim: Go ahead.

Eren: What--

Ephraim: Next person to insult Eren will have to face me in combat.

Eren: I’m worthless. I don’t contribute to anything.

Ephraim:

Ephraim: Prepare your weapons, Eren--

Ephraim: You’re cute when you’re mad.

Eren: I’m always pissed.

Ephraim:

Eren:

Eren: ... Okay, you win this round.

Eren: Coffee or tea?

Ephraim: Tea.

Eren: Wrong! It’s coffee.

Aaron and Eren’s father: I am proud to have raised two fully, functional children.

Both of them: You have two kids we don’t know about?

Eren: Your hands... They’re big.

Ephraim: You know what they say about big hands.

Eren, with no hesitation: All the better to play with yourself.

Eren: I hate you.

Ephraim: No, you don’t.

Eren: No, I don’t.

Innes: It looks like you got no sleep last night.

Eren: I got 8 minutes.

Eren: Not consecutively though, but it’s fine. You’re not that blurry.

Ephraim: I love you.

Eren: Love? Do you mean like love or do you mean LOVE love?

Ephraim: Eren, it’s our wedding night.

Innes: I called you.

Eren: I know. I watched the phone ring.

Eren: I have to kill you.

Ephraim, confused: Eren?

Eren: I don’t know how to hit on you, so you have to die.

Ephraim: Eren, are you... seeing anyone?

Eren, sweating: No, why?

Ephraim: I just... think you’d benefit from a therapist or something.

Ephraim: Eren, can I give you advice?

Eren: Absolutely not.

Ephraim: I think we would be able to see eye-to-eye.

Eren: I’m 4′11″.

Eren, internally: Ephraim stopped talking. He wants you to respond! Say something, idiot!

Eren: I wasn’t thinking about killing you.

Ephraim: Thanks?

Eren, internally: Nailed it.

Eren: Aw, you had a crush on me.

Eren: That’s so embarrassing.

Ephraim: Eren, we’re married.

Eren: Still.

Ephraim: *does anything*

Eren: I’ve decided to give this man all of the love and affection I have to offer.

Ephraim: Good morning, Eren.

Eren, sleepy: Good morning, dearest...

Ephraim, after hearing “dearest”: :O!!!

Ephraim, bleeding severely: I think I might need a cleric.

Eren: Are you kidding me, Ephraim? I think you’re dying.

Ephraim: Eren, your hair is... interesting.

Eren: Thanks, I grew it myself.

Eren: I heard you were interested in someone.

Ephraim: Have you now?

Eren: They must be quite the looker to catch your eyes like that.

Ephraim: I didn’t think you were this full of yourself.

Eren:

Eren: Wait a minute--

Enemy: You have a lot of nerve challenging me!

Eren: You have a lot of nerve being alive.

Eirika, offering Seth food: Try some, Seth! Here.

Seth: I thank you, Princess.

Ephraim: Hey, why don’t we ever do that?

Eren: Go to hell.

Eren: I'm proud to identify as morosexual. I’m attracted to dumbasses and dumbasses exclusively. A guy asked me what kind of animal a wyvern was and I dream of kissing him under the moonlight.

The same guy: Hey, what color is the Pink Panther?

Eren, already taking off their clothes: Ephraim, you’re so fucking stupid.

Ephraim: I would like to propose--

Eren: *eyes widen*

Ephraim: -an idea...

Eren: I’m not jealous. I just get this weird, burning feeling when I think about Ephraim being with somebody else.

Tana: That’s jealousy.

Eren: I want to kiss you.

Ephraim: And if you don’t like it?

Eren: You can return it.

Eren: Did it hurt?

Ephraim: ... When I fell from heaven?

Eren: No, Eph. When you got beat up and almost died.

Eren: Do you have any pets?

Ephraim, remembering girls like sensitive guys: A cat.

Eren: Oh, what’s its name?

Ephraim, remembering girls also like tough guys: Missile Launcher.

Eren: What do I do?

Tana: Tell him “you’re beautiful!”

Eren: Good idea.

Ephraim: Hey, Eren.

Eren: I’m beautiful.

Eren: I’ve always wondered... how do tall people like you sleep at night when the blanket can’t possibly cover you from your shoulders to your feet?

Ephraim: Eren, it’s 4AM.

Eren: Oh, you can’t sleep?

Eren:

Eren: Is it because of the blanket?

Tana: Eren! That’s a really cute top!

Eren: Thanks, his name is Ephraim.

Eren: I don’t believe in love. Love is for fools who have nothing else to believe in. Also-

Ephraim:

Eren:

Eren: Damn it.

Ephraim: How can someone say Eren is evil? They’re a soft, kind person.

Eren, wiping blood off of their face: Yeah! I’m fucking adorable.

Eren: I bet I could fit the whole world in my hands.

Ephraim: Eren, you can’t-

Eren, holding Ephraim’s face: Yes, I can.

Ephraim:

Ephraim, blushing: I have a reputation.

Ephraim: Is that my shirt?

Eren, wearing a shirt that goes down to their knees: No.

Ephraim: Are you decent?

Eren: Not morally. But I’m wearing pants if that’s what you’re asking.

Tana: Hey, Eren! Are you free next week? Maybe around 5PM on Friday?

Eren: Yeah.

Tana: What about you, Ephraim?

Ephraim: My schedule allows it.

Tana: Great! Because I’m not. You two go without me. Enjoy your date!

Ephraim:

Eren:

Eren: I would die for you.

Ephraim: I would die for you, too.

Eren, very emotionally: Please don’t.

Eren: I married my husband. I love saying “my husband,” it sounds so adult. “That’s my husband.” It’s great, you sound like a person.

Ephraim: You’re going to ace this test.

Eren, frustrated: You think that because you love me, and love has made you dumb.

Ephraim: I disagree. If anything, love has made me smarter. Remember how I boiled that egg last week?

Eren: That was big. I was really proud of you.

Innes: Why is Eren crying in the bathroom?

Lute: They’re drunk.

Innes: And?

Lute: They heard Ephraim was married.

Innes:

Innes: But they’re Ephraim’s spouse.

Lute: I know.

Waiter: What would you like to have?

Ephraim: Please bring a milkshake with two straws.

Eren: *blushes a little*

Ephraim, putting both straws into his mouth: Watch how fast I can drink this.

Ephraim, holding up a picture of Eren: Have you seen my spouse?

Seth: Not recently. Why? Are they missing?

Ephraim: Oh no, they’re fine. I just want people to look at them. Aren’t they great?

Seth: My lord,

Eirika: Eren, what are you looking for?

Eren: My will to live.

Ephraim: *walks in*

Eren: Oh, there it is.

Forde: You don’t like to admit it, but if anyone else was mean to Ephraim, you’d beat them up.

Eren: That’s incor-

Ephraim, walking into the room: Innes said he’s gonna kick my ass.

Eren, standing up: Not if I kick his ass first.

Eren: Can you turn on the lights?

Ephraim: Don’t worry, I’m the only light you need.

Eren: Eph, that’s sweet of you, but I can’t see anything.

Eren: I have high standards.

Ephraim: Lances are the superior weapon.

Eren: Oh no, he’s meeting all my standards.

Eren: I was put on this earth to do one thing.

Ephraim: You were?

Eren: Yeah. Luckily, I forgot what it was so now I can do whatever I want.

Glen: We have your spouse.

Ephraim: Spouse? I don’t have a spouse.

Glen: Then who was the one that was willing to embarrass themselves when we said we would hurt you if they didn’t?

Ephraim: Oh my Gods.

Eirika: What is it?

Ephraim: They have Eren.

Seth: What’s your greatest weakness?

Eren: I’m uncooperative.

Seth: May I have an example?

Eren, immediately: No.

Ephraim: *takes Eren’s hand*

Eren: What was that?

Ephraim: Affection.

Eren: Disgusting.

Eren:

Eren: Do it again.

Eren: Ephraim and I don’t have pet names for each other. That’s silly.

Tana: Uh huh. Hey, you know what bees make, right?

Eren: Honey?

Ephraim, from the other room: Yes, Dear?

Tana: Don’t lie to me like that ever again.

Ephraim: *does something cute*

Eren: I don’t care.

Narrator: But they did care.

Eren: *has been laying on the ground for 15 minutes*

Eirika: What’s the matter with Eren?

Tana: They’re overwhelmed.

Eirika: What happened?

Tana: Ephraim smiled at them.

Ephraim, waking up: Wh... Where am I?

Eren, sarcastically: In heaven.

Ephraim: Oh. Then, why are you here?

Eren:

Lute, reading a fortune cookie: "If you kill a killer, the number of killers in the world stays the same.”

Eren, not looking up from what they’re doing: Kill two.

Ephraim and Eren: *staring into each other’s eyes*

Innes: *opens a soda can*

Ephraim: We’re having a moment.

Innes: I’m having a soda.

Enemy: You played me like a fiddle!

Eren: Oh no. Fiddles are actually difficult to play.

Eren: I played you like the cheap kazoo you are.

Aaron: Eren, your boyfriend is on the phone.

Eren: How many times do I have to tell you Ephraim’s not my boyfriend?

Eren, talking on the phone: Hey, Babe.

Eren: It’s okay. Everyone’s afraid of something.

Person: Even you, Eren?

Eren: No.

Baby: *crying*

Eren: What is their name?

Mother: Oh! It’s Jacob.

Eren, leaning down to the baby: Shut the fuck up, Jacob.

Eren: Science side of Twitter, how do I become a jellyfish?

Innes: Jellyfish have no brains. You’re already pretty close.

Eren: Okay, first of all, fuck you,

Innes: Why is Eren on the counter?

Ephraim: They like to be tall.

*After a disagreement*

Eren: *hands Ephraim an egg*

Ephraim:

Ephraim: Is this... an apology?

Eren: *nods aggressively*

Ephraim: From now on, we’ll be using codenames. You can address me as “Eagle One.”

Ephraim: Tana-

Tana: ?

Ephraim: Codename: “Been There, Done That”.

Tana: *visibly offended*

Ephraim: Eren is “Currently Doing That".

Eren: *grumbling*

Ephraim: L’Arachel is “It Happend Once in a Dream”.

L’Arachel: You perv-

Ephraim: Kyle is "If I had to Pick a Dude”.

Kyle: My lord,

Ephraim: Innes is...

Innes:

Ephraim: ... “Eagle Two”.

Innes: Oh thank Gods.

Innes: You can’t keep doing this, Eren.

Eren: Then enlighten me, Innes! What would you do if you were in my shoes?

Innes: First of all, no one should ever be in those shoes,

Ephraim: *bleeding profusely*

Kyle: Gods! Eren, call Ephraim a cleric! Quickly!

Eren: Uh... Ephraim, you’re a... cleric.

Forde, rushing Natasha over: Eren, for crying out loud-

Eren: Do you ever get... water hungry?

Ephraim: ... Thirsty?

Eren: No, water hungry.

Eren, holding up Ephraim’s shirt: What color is this?

Eirika: Gray.

Seth: Gray.

Kyle: Gray.

Forde: Gray.

Eren, turning to Ephraim: Tell them what color you think it is.

Ephraim, quietly: Dark white.

Tana: If you had a shot for every time you made a bad decision, would you still be sober?

Eirika, Seth, Innes: Of course.

Ephraim, Lute, Kyle: Yes.

Forde: Maybe a little tipsy.

Eren, sweating: Dead.

Ephraim: Hey.

Eren: What do you want?

Ephraim: I can’t sleep.

Eren: I can. Goodnight.

Kyle: To think that you and Eren broke the bed last night...

Forde: You two must of gone wild!

Ephraim, nervously: Yeah...

*Last night*

Eren: Bet you can’t jump high enough to touch the ceiling.

Ephraim: Oh yeah?

Ephraim: How did none of you hear what I said?

Forde: I’ve been zoned out for the last two hours.

Tana: I got distracted halfway through...

Eren: I got too lost in your eyes to hear what you said.

Innes: Ignoring you was a conscious decision.

Eren: I’ve never had a friend before.

Ephraim, awkwardly: I can... be your friend.

Eren:

Eren: You know, I’ve never had a husband before either.

Eren: Ephraim kissed me.

Tana: Oh! Okay, did you kiss him back?

Eren: Why would I kiss him back?

Tana:

Eren: This has been the worst year for me.

Ephraim: It’s January.

Eren, reading the news: Someone tried to fight a squid at the aquarium.

Ephraim, covered in ink: Maybe the squid was being a dick.

Eren: I’m going to hell.

Ephraim: Save a space for me then.

Eren:

Eren, laughing: You’re not going to hell!

Ephraim: I told you in my vows - I’m going wherever you go. Save me a space.

Eren, choked up: Oh. Wow.

Eren: I can’t go. Stress is bad for the baby.

Ephraim: What baby?

Eren, softly: Me.

*Before recruitment*

Grado Ally: Has anyone in their life told you they love you?

Eren: Does my father count?

Grado Ally: Yes.

Eren: Then no.

Eren: I’ve only been in Ephraim’s army for a day and a half,

Eren: But if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.

Eren: Come on, Innes! I’m your hottest friend.

Eren: Wait, no. That’s Ephraim.

Eren: I’m your nicest friend!

Eren: No, that’s Eirika.

Eren: I’m your friend!

Innes: *preparing his bow*

Eirika: I relate to Belle because she loves to read books, and loves people for their souls.

Eren: I relate to Tinker Bell because she needs attention or she dies.

Eirika: Eren, I think we need to talk.

Ephraim: Eren, you need to react when people cry. Otherwise, it’s rude.

Eren: I did. I rolled my eyes.

Eren: I wasn’t that drunk.

Innes: You flirted with Ephraim.

Eren: What’s the big deal? He’s my husband.

Innes: You asked if he was single then cried when he said no.

Eren: Sorry I’m late. I didn’t want to come.

Tana: Do you ever want to get married?

Eren: I don’t want somebody in my house.

Eren: Unless it’s...

Eren: Oh Gods, unless it’s Ephraim.

Eren: Did you know “The Dead Sea” is the saltiest thing in the world?

Innes: Next to you.

Eren: Congrats! You just stole the spot.

Eirika: Happy Birthday, Eren! Ephraim ordered this cake for you.

Eren, looking at the size of the cake: ... He’s inside, isn’t he?

Everyone:

Eren, deeply sighing: Yes, he is.

Eren: Sometimes, I feel like dying.

Ephraim: What?

Eren: But then I think of not being able to see you anymore, and I don’t want that.

Eren: What the fuck is wrong with you?

Innes: You could have started with a “good morning.”

Eren: Good morning, what the fuck is wrong with you?

Person: I’ve been looking for you everywhere!

Eren: What a coincidence! I’ve been avoiding you everywhere.

Innes: Eren, can you get me a glass of water?

Eren, setting a glass of ice down on Innes’s table: Wait.

Ephraim: I heard you like bad boys.

Eren: Not... really.

Ephraim, taking off his shades: Oh, thank Gods.

Ephraim: That’s what significant others are for.

Eren: Gods, you’re so cute.

Eren: If I could kiss you right now, I would.

Ephraim: Eren... who says you couldn’t?

Eren: I could cuddle 23/7.

Ephraim: Why not 24/7?

Eren: Snack breaks.

Eren: Hey, want me to do a tarot reading for you?

Ephraim: I didn’t think you were into tarot reading, but sure.

Eren, laying down cards: Okay, this one tells me you’re a precious angel, this one says your smile is heavenly-

Ephraim: Eren, those aren’t tarot cards. They’re pictures of me.

Eren: Tall people! If we are walking, please take into consideration my tiny legs. I can’t keep up with you! Please think of my tiny legs! I don’t want to be jogging just to keep up with your leisurely stroll, you titans.

Ephraim: Just get a pair of roller skates and hang on to my sleeve. We don’t have all day.

Ephraim: In your opinion, what’s the height of stupidity?

Eren: I don’t know, Ephraim. How tall are you?

Eren: I don’t need to go to bed. I’m not tired.

Ephraim: But, love, I’ll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole again.

Eren:

Eren: Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns?

Ephraim: Is it working?

Eren: Ask me why I love you.

Ephraim: Why do you love me, Eren?

Eren, pulling out a 200 slide presentation: I’m glad you asked.

Ephraim: Is something burning?

Eren: Just my desire for you.

Ephraim: Eren, the toaster’s on fire.

Eren: When I said bring me back something from the beach, I meant a seashell or something.

Ephraim, struggling to hold a seagull: Well, you didn’t say that.

Innes: You know what your problem is?

Eren, sarcastically: I only have one?

Tana: Just go tell him he’s cute! What’s the worse that can happen?

Eren: He could hear me.

Tana: Oh, I wish I had the ability to make boys nervous!

Eren: Holding a sharp knife to their neck usually does it for me.

Tana: Eren, that’s not what I meant!

Eren: My boyfriend is too tall for me to kiss him. What should I do?

Lute: Punch him in the stomach, then kiss him when he doubles over in pain.

Innes: Tackle him, or kick him in the shin.

Ephraim: You could just ask me to lean down.

Eren: Come on, I wasn’t that drunk.

Ephraim: You tried to color my face with a highlighter because you said I was important.

Eren, tearing up: But you are.

Eren: I just ended a five year relationship.

Eirika: Oh no... Eren, are you okay?

Eren: Yeah, of course. It wasn’t mine.

Ephraim: Have a good day, Eren. Get well soon.

Eren: Don’t tell me what to do.

Eren: Hey, you think I could fit fifteen marshmallows in my mouth?

Innes: What is wrong with you? You’re a hazard to yourself.

Ephraim: And a coward. Do twenty.

Eirika: Eren doesn’t have a case on their phone and I’m worried that if they drop it, it’ll break.

Ephraim: Don’t worry, it won’t break from that height.

Eren: After knowing Ephraim for so long, we have this chemistry where we finish each other’s--

Ephraim: -sentences.

Eren: Don’t interrupt me.

Tana: Why is everyone so concerned about who’s a “top” or a “bottom”?

Tana: I’d just be happy to have a bunk bed.

Innes:

Seth:

Eirika:

Eren: I’m gonna tell her.

Ephraim, holding them back: Don’t you dare.

Innes: Eren, this plan... dare I say it, you’re... a genius.

Eren: I get called that a lot.

Innes: A genius?

Eren: No, Eren.

Eirika: There you are, Ephraim! Eren is hurt.

Eren: I’m not hurt. I was lightly stabbed.

Ephraim: I’m sorry, you were STABBED?

Eren: LIGHTLY stabbed.

Eirika: You guys have kissed how many times?

Ephraim: A few.

Eirika:

Eirika: That’s... not technically a friendship.

Ephraim: What’s the one thing you want to try in the bedroom?

Eren: Fall asleep without crying.

Eren: I’m going to show you all a song I’ve been working on! It’s called “My Life so Far.”

Eren: *plays a note*

Eren: *screams*

Ephraim: I’m quick at math.

Eren: Okay, what’s 38 times 74?

Ephraim: 25.

Eren: That... is not remotely close.

Ephraim: But it was quick.

Enemy: I’m going to kill you!

Eren: Okay.

Enemy: I’m going to kill Ephraim!

Eren: If you don’t lay down your weapons right now, I’ll see to it that you are never be able hold them again.

Eren: I’ve been dropping them obvious hints now. No response.

Ephraim: They sound stupid.

Eren: But they’re not! They’re really smart, actually. Just... dense.

Ephraim: Maybe you need to be more obvious.

Ephraim: Maybe something like, “Hey! I love you!”

Eren: I guess you’re right...

Eren: Ephraim, I love you.

Ephraim: See? Just say that.

Eren: Oh my Gods.

Ephraim: If that flies over their head then, sorry, Eren, but they’re too dumb for you.

Eren: Ephraim.

Ephraim: Good luck with whoever it is.

Innes: You keep hugging Ephraim when he’s upset. Next thing you know, he’s going to fall in love with you. Is that what you want?

Eren, scoffing: I don’t know, is that what I want?

Tana, loudly from the other room: Yes, that’s what they want!

Eirika: Where are you going, Eren?

Eren: To get butter or to stab someone -- I’ll decide on the way.

Eren: I don’t have a favorite friend. How could you think that? All of my friends are of equal importance and worth.

Lute: It’s Eirika, isn’t it?

Eren: I can’t help it! She has those “love me tender” eyes and I’m weak.

Person: I really look up to you.

Eren: Debatable.

Tana: So, Eren! Are you the little spoon or the big spoon?

Eren: I’m a knife.

Ephraim: They’re the little spoon.

Eren: I’m fine.

Ephraim: But you don’t look fine.

Eren: Then don’t look at me.

Ephraim: Eren,

Aaron: Hey.

Eren: New phone. Who is this?

Aaron: You can’t do that in person. It’s Aaron.

Eren:

Aaron: Your brother!

Eren: I’ve never been in a snowball fight.

Ephraim: Really?

Eren: I don’t even know the rules. Is it a point system?

Eren: Or... is it to the death?

Eren: You know, don’t take this the wrong way (or do), but I feel like you’ve become a lot more cooler since I’ve known you.

Innes: Thanks. And if I might return the compliment, I think you’ve become marginally less irritating.

Tana: I sort of did something and I need your advice. But I don’t want a lot of judgment and criticism.

Eren: And you came to me?

Ephraim: Can you pick up milk?

Eren: Yeah, it’s pretty easy.

Ephraim: I meant from the store.

Eren: I would imagine it weighs the same there, too.

Tana: Eren, how long have you been in love with Ephraim?

Eren: That’s disgusting. And wrong. I don’t even get - why would I - I’ve never been in love with anyone, anywhere. It’s none of your - you have - the nerve, the audacity. Ephraim is my friend, technically. And he’s terrible, face-wise. And how - how do I know, frankly, that you’re not in love with him? Maybe you are. Maybe you’re trying to throw me off. Check and mate.

Enemy: I will make you sorry you were ever born!

Eren: For your information, I’m already sorry I was ever born.

Eren: I’m at a loss for words.

Ephraim: Despite being at a loss for words, Eren proceeded to lecture me for 10 minutes.

Enemy: You have no idea what I’m capable of!

Eren: Don’t take it personally, but I feel like I’m being threatened by a cupcake.

Ephraim: What are we going to do, Eren?

Eren: I was thinking of dinner.

Ephraim:

Ephraim: I was referring to Fomortiis.

Joshua: What’s your biggest fear?

Eren: Being forgotten.

Joshua: That’s... wow.

Joshua: Mine is the Kool-Aid Man but I feel kinda stupid about it now.

Ephraim: Eren, please stop eating instant ramen so frequently. It’s bad for you.

Eren: How many times do I have to tell you that I’m here for a good time, not a long time?

Ephraim: Eren, please--

Ephraim: Be nice, Eren.

Eren: I am!

Ephraim: You threatened them with a knife.

Eren: But I didn’t stab them.

Person: I want to be as strong and stable as Eren is.

Ephraim:

Ephraim: I saw them drop dinner and cry for 20 minutes.

#long post #eren chats

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