#she had a brother named beau. i think im going to bring him back as sir scientist here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

father-time-and-baby-new-year · 3 years

Note

Would it be to much to ask for a Eren scenario where both he and the reader are both equally toxic, manipulative and possessive over eachother but both just cannot let the other go to the point where even when they reunite when Eren escapes the survey corps he asks her to tell him if anyone else whether it was the army or the jeagerists, if they had touched her even if it was just to escort her which she just nods and refuses to tell him any names cuz she likes to see him riled up by her having been "corrupted" and seeing how with a single act she can have him on edge and he falls for her even more by her devious and selfish wiles to have him get irritated and angry but only to end up wanting more of her charms.

Just some good dark angtsy feels all around🖤

A/N: just a little drabble. i've never done canon-verse stuff for AOT so this was fun to try. thank you sending this ask. i did deviate from your ending a little bit so im sorry <3

Warning: AoT Season 4 Spoilers, extreme possessive behavior, toxic relationship, anger issues, gaslighting/manipulating

Eren can feel himself getting restless. Hange had been getting on his nerves. He was the literally the only reason they had secured their victory against Marley on multiple fronts. She and the rest of the fucking Survey Corps should be bending over backward in gratitude.

He cracks his knuckles although he had no need to, wanting to focus on a physical sensation. His thoughts eventually circle back to you. He misses you sorely.

In Marley, there was this kind child Falco. Eren could say he felt guilty for manipulating the poor boy. But that's not true. He's shed that part of humanity a long time ago. All's fair in war after all.

The fair-haired boy was worried about his friend, didn't want a certain special someone of his to become titanized.

Is this other candidate a girl?

Eren had asked. Because he could relate to the Marelyan child. There was a girl he was trying to protect too, who he'd raise hell over, who he'd destroy the world for.

The dark-haired boy can feel himself grow restless. There are a million things to do. Coups to start. Militia to gather. A brother to manipulate. A world to ruin.

But first, he needs to see you. It's already been so long. He had barked orders to Floch to make sure you were safe and secure. If any hair off your pretty little head was misplaced-well no one wants to witness the rage of the Founding Titan's holder.

CRASH

The ground shakes. Eren closes his eyes and lets the Warhammer titan's power course through his veins. Foolish to think any prison could ever hold him.

He's walking uphill. The sunset bathes the land in vibrant pinks, oranges, and light violets. There is a crowd of people standing tall and at attention, postures rigid, save for one.

You hurl towards him at the speed of light and twice the fury, wrapping your arms around his neck. If Eren wasn't six feet of hard muscle, he would have been knocked off his feet from the vigor of your crushing embrace.

"Eren!" You cry out.

The attack titan vessel is too shocked to respond. He's been anticipating your presence for the longest but to finally feel you in the flesh and to smell your soft pretty scent was sending him into overdrive. He couldn't believe you were tangible and not some hauntingly beautiful apparition.

He wraps his arms around you, enveloping your body in his warmth, and you rest your head in the crook of his neck. He feels your nimble fingers toying with his hair.

"I like this new look. It suits you." You mummer.

"Like me without a shirt too?" Eren teases.

He forgot how easy it was to be himself around you, to joke and laugh like he wasn't planning a global genocide of epic proportions. No, even that's an understatement. His goal was an omnicide, utter annihilation. Only Paradis will be left after the ashes settle. A Paradis with you.

"What are you thinking about?" You ask, eyes wide with an untouched innocence that Eren doesn't know how you still possess. All of that eager wide-eyed optimism had been snuffed out from all of his friends. From him. But you, you don't change like the seasons or winds. You're you.

And that was going to be his ruin.

After the Yeagerists brief him on what happened with Zackley and Zeke Yeager's possible whereabouts, Eren gives into his overwhelming urges to see you.

He approaches your chambers, trying to conceal his impatience with soft knocks. You don't answer which irritates him, so he knocks louder and louder, the sound of his fist banging against the door sounding like thunderclaps.

Where the fuck are you? Were you with someone right now? He knew you were getting a little too friendly with Floch from the way you guys were talking at dinner. It was so obvious. He's been gone, for what, a few months and you're already whor-

The door opens and exposes a sleepy-looking girl whose rubbing one of her eyes. Admittedly, very adorable.

"Eren" Your voice is saccharine, "Do you need anything?"

He lets himself in, and shuts the door behind him, locking it in place.

"I don't usually lock the door," You pout but there's a playfulness in your expression that Eren would have noticed had he not been consumed by rage.

"What? So you let anyone in?" He asks, nearly snarling out the words. as he stares scandalized at your slip of a nightgown. A pale translucent pink that reached the middle of your thighs. He could even make the outline of your nipples poking through.

"No, silly." You giggle, twirling the hem of your dress, "Floch's security measure." You pretended not to notice how Eren's fist clenches.

"Is that so?" Eren said, words spoken between gritted teeth. As long as Eren was here, there need be no concerns over security measures. But he knew Floch. The ginger worshipped the ground Eren walked on and would never make a move on you if he cared about his limbs staying intact.

You sat down on your bed and Eren couldn't help but watch your skimpy dress ride up your creamy thighs.

He stood over you, his form looming over yours as you sat on your bed, feet swinging above the ground.

"I wanted to ask you something."

You look up with those big childlike eyes, "Okay."

"Did. Anyone. Touch. You?" His voice is low and he punctuates each word slowly.

You blink "What do you mean?” But there’s a coy smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

"Quit playing dumb." He growls, anger evident in the crease between his eyebrows.

You're quiet for a still moment, mouth opening and closing. Eren's anxiety increases more each second and it finally boils over when you softly ask, "What kind of touch?"

Like a chess piece topping over, he shoves you down the bed, pinning your wrists with his strong hands.

Usually, Eren was smarter. Quicker to call you on your tricks. But alas, absence makes the heart fonder. You love making him lose his stoic composure, so lost in his lust and desire for you that all he can see crimson. And if the price for that is to play the fragile maiden, it is what it is.

"Ow." You pitifully whine, lightly shaking your right hand. Eren knew he wasn't holding you too hard so he experimentally thumbs over a certain spot on your right wrist, eliciting another small whimper. He brings your wrist closer to him and finds a purple bruise.

"Who touched you? Was is it any of the yeagerists?" His voice is deadly calm but an ice-cold rage simmers in his eyes. You can feel yourself growing excited, heat pooling in the bottom of your stomach. You’re rubbing your legs together for the friction but Eren assumes it a nervous tic to avoid answering any of his questions.

When you avert your gaze and simply look the side, he delicately cradles your cheek: “Was it the scouts?”

The delicate touch turns harsher when you don't respond, forcing your pretty head to look straight at him. He sees your eyes glistening, and when he looks into your dewy irises, he can see himself.

His voice drops a pitch, "Please tell me."

Your breathing is shallower and you can't help but enjoy this so much.

It's been so long since you've seen him-since you begged him not to go but he went anyway, and having him here right now--the pride and joy of the Eldian empire , the holder of the Founding Titan-unravel in your fingertips, well this was the closest to true power you've ever been.

Eren can feel his patience sleeping, anger seeping into his bones at your silence, and the bruise on your delicate wrist only serves to anger him further. He can't even do what he swore to do and that was to keep you safe.

"Are you not telling me who it is because you're protecting them?"

The words are delivered deadly calm with the tension of a brewing storm behind it. You're nervous, exactly aware of what your beau is capable of, but the excited kind of nervous where butterflies are swarming in your stomach.

Maybe you underestimated his anger because within a second, the telltale red lines start to form under his eyes, lightning bright sparks forming between each breath.

Without thinking, you envelop the back of his head with one arm (the other hand rendered useless bu the force of his hold), trying to bring his head into the softness your breasts.

Understanding your gesture, Eren immediately calms down and lets himself be smothered in your chest like a babe being cradled in his mother's warmth.

"There, there" you coo, words soft and melodious on your tongue.

You can feel wet-spots on your nightie, "Eren...are you-" you begin, not sure when to end.

His voice is tightly controlled as if not let his coiled emotions fuse again, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I was about to hurt you." He sounds so broken, and all you can do is stroke his hair.

You press a kiss to his head. You know what the right words to say are. You should be comforting him and assuring him he could never hurt you.

Instead you stay silent, softly exhaling. He can't see the pleased smile on your face.

"Your wrist feeling any better?"

You whip up your head to see Floch whose peering down at you in slight concern. You must have looked confused because he elaborated, "The one you accidentally banged against the doorway. Looked like it hurt."

"Oh." You pause, looking down at the fresh set of finger shaper marks overtaking the fading violet.

You laugh airily, "Yeah it's alright."

#toxic eren #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x reader fanfiction #eren yeager x toxic reader #manipulative eren #tw manipulation #tw yelling #tw gaslighting #attack on titan fanfiction #eren yeager x y/n

286 notes · View notes

cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

Ocean Eyes, Cherry Lips, Ivory Keys

Pairing: 40s!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2747

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of alcohol, I think that’s all

A/N: This is a headcanon I’ve had for a while that I’ve been wanting to write about 40s!Bucky, pre-War. I kinda want to write a series about it, so that might happen. For now, enjoy this little tidbit I’ve written, with the prompt of Occasion for HBC’s Lucky in Love Day 18! (This isn’t beta’d so please excuse mistakes.)

He’s something of a celebrity. A living legend. A God amongst humans. Starting as a kid in Brooklyn, his fanbase rapidly grew, expanding to Queens, Manhattan, even parts of New Jersey, just in the past few years.

You don’t get it. So what if he’s got cool blue eyes, soft chocolate hair, and a charming smile? Who cares if he’s got smooth moves and even smoother words? He’s just a man - a human being - with flaws just like everyone else. A talented and gorgeous man, who has all of New York wanting to fall to her knees to please him, but still just a man.

James Buchanan Barnes.

Most everyone knew his name, but there was a lot of mystery surrounding the actual character.

You just don’t see what all the fuss is about. You’ve never personally met him, or even seen him, but you know people who have. Your friend’s cousin even claims to have danced with him once. Not that that would be hard. You hear he’s never danced with the same bird twice, and, considering most start dancing in their teenage years, that’s a lot of dames.

It’s not that you’re not curious about him - if he’s actually as dashing as they say - but you’re not about to stop your life for him like some of your friends. They’re obsessed with getting his attention. With seeing if they’d be the one. The one to finally chain him down and tame him. The one he’d go steady with.

It feels like that’s all you ever talk about anymore. It was amusing at first, but now it’s just getting annoying. It’s been three years since that day in March of 1938, when your roommate ran into your room, plopping down onto your bed, before ranting and raving about the new ocean eyed piano player at her favorite bar. And since then, he’s been in your life without actually being in your life.

Speaking of, here you are. Listening to Lucy, MaryAnne, and Jean gushing over the man, trying to enjoy your milkshake.

“I heard from Sally that Thomas said that he knew the brother of one of his friend’s in high school!”

“That can’t be true! I heard from Billy, who heard from Martha, who was told by Ben, that he only had, like, one friend in high school.”

“You’re kidding, right? There’s no way a man like that had only one friend.”

“I hear he does boxing and that’s why he’s got a body sculpted like a Greek God.”

“Oh my God! MaryAnne!”

You rub your temples, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as the three burst into fits of giggles. If you have to hear one more word about-

“I heard he’s going to be playing at Georgie’s on Friday!”

Gasps echoed around the table. “No way! Georgie’s?”

You raise an eyebrow, this actually intriguing you. Georgie’s is a popular little hole in the wall, on the edge of being a speakeasy, which doubles as a pub and a dance hall in Brooklyn. It’s one of the best hang outs for kids like you and your girls, but it isn’t very high class. Maybe that’s why it’s one of the best. “Isn’t Georgie’s a little…cheap for him? He’s been playing at the best bars and restaurants for a while now.”

“It’s a classic in Brooklyn. Near his home, probably.”

“Do you think he lives near there?!”

“Ooo! Maybe we could find out!’

You scoff. “That,” gesturing to Lucy with your glass, you take a sip of your milkshake. “Is called stalking, my friend.”

Jean waves towards you dismissively. “I think he lives near Tin Pan Alley. That’s where he plays the most, after all. Georgie’s was probably just an old hang out for him and his pals.”

“Wait, wait,” you shake your head, a thought popping into your head. You turn to Lucy, confused. “How’d you find out he’s playing at Georgie’s anyways? Isn’t part of his whole act not telling anyone where he’s playing?”

Giving you a smirk and a wink, Lucy shrugs. “I’ve got my connections.”

You roll your eyes again, turning your attention back to your milkshake. “So?!” MaryAnne squealed. “We’re going on Friday, right?”

“Hell yes!”

“Absolutely!”

“Not.” You mumble, causing the other three to stare at you incredulously.

“Not?!”

“I’m not wasting my Friday night going to see some fella you all have a crush on. Especially when he might not even be there.”

Your friends groan, exchanging glances. “And what’re you gonna do?” Jean crossed her arms with a pointed look on her face. “Sit down and read a book like you always do?”

You huff. “I like reading, sue me. I don’t get a lot of time to myself. You know that new girl’s been gumming up the works and I’ve had to stay late to fix her mistakes all week.”

“This is exactly what you need, then! Come out, have a drink, jive a little-”

You look up at that, an amused kind of smirk on your lips. “Jive? Me and my clumsy ass?”

You all laugh. “Okay, so maybe not dance, but c’mon! It’ll be snazzy, you’ll see!”

“Fine, fine.” Standing up with a sigh, you collect your things, smoothing down your dress with your hands. “I’ve gotta scram.”

“We’ll see you on Friday, right?”

You give a small smile, shooting them a wink. “I guess I can make it.”

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

Friday comes a lot faster than you anticipate. You dress up; a navy blue dress going to your knees with white, heart shaped buttons and a bow around the waist. The shoes you’re wearing are your nice black and white Mary Janes. Lips painted deep red, and hair pinned back in loose curls, you glance over yourself in a mirror. You’ll admit; you look damn good. You don’t wanna go, but you might as well try to have some fun since you are.

It’s a cool evening, early May meaning the summer humidity hasn’t hit just yet. You didn’t even think about bringing a coat, but you start to regret the decision as you start walking. MaryAnne, who you actually room with, already left, being way too excited to stay put.

It doesn’t take you long - you live on the border of Queens and Brooklyn - but your feet are more sore than you’d like when you arrive.

“I knew you’d come!” Lucy grins, coming up besides you and linking her arm in yours. MaryAnne comes up on your other side and does the same to your free arm.

“Where’s Jean?”

“Where do you think? She already found a Joe to swing with.”

You laugh. “Of course she has! So is your dreamboat here?”

The grins that are immediately on their faces answer your question and they quickly drag you inside.

It’s hot and crowded and dim. Skirts with their beaus, guys with their broads, swinging and dancing to the lively music of the band on stage. Smoke from cigarettes, pipes, and cigars is evident in the air as they neared the bar portion of the building, mixing with the boisterous sound of laughter and chatter.

“Everyone’s talking about it! He’s here, but he hasn’t played yet. We’ve been trying to catch a glimpse of him, but we think he’s in a back room.” The dramatic sigh MaryAnne gives makes you laugh a little.

“Okay, khaki whackies. Let’s get a drink.”

You, just as you thought would happen tonight, are left alone at the bar by your friends who quickly found partners to dance with. A few men asked you, but you have never been a good dancer.

You’re lost in thought, running a finger gently around the rim of your cup, when a voice sounded besides you, pulling you out of your thoughts, a slight rasp to the otherwise mellifluous voice.

“You gonna drink that, doll, or just stare at it all night?”

You raise an eyebrow at the jest, turning your head, only to have your breath hitch. What a specimen. Ocean blue eyes, fluffy brown curls, cherry pink lips. A white dress shirt is pulled over his broad chest, gray dress pants hugging thick thighs, matching suit jacket across wide shoulders. He has a blue, black, and white plaid tie around his neck and you can see the edges of his blue suspenders under his blazer. He’s put together, but it’s nothing special, a normal Sunday best suit, that much you can tell.

“Uh, not all night.” You look back to the drink, before looking at the clock with a hum, tilting your head playfully. “Maybe another hour.”

He chuckles, gesturing for the bartender. “Tell me this, sweetheart. What is a beautiful dame like yourself doin’ drinking alone?”

“I’m not very good on my feet, I’m afraid.” You laugh nervously, taking a sip of your drink.

“Don’t come here often, then?”

“Only for special occasions.”

“What’s the special occasion this evenin’, sugar?”

You shrug. “My friends dragged me here. They’re practically in love with this guy who’s supposedly playing the piano tonight. James Barnes. Have you ever heard of him?”

He chuckles, a grin pulling his lips upwards. “Yeah. Yeah I’ve heard of ‘im. Not a big fan yourself?”

“I’m sure he’s fine. I just don’t understand the fascination with him. Let the man be.”

“I agree.” He hums with a nod, grabbing the glass of whiskey the bartender set in front of him. “I actually know him.”

“Really?” You look at him in interest.

He tilts his head with a smile towards you that makes you melt. “Yeah. He feels the same. He just likes playin’. That’s all. He didn’t want all the attention. He gets enough without that.”

You raise an eyebrow, finishing off your drink. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m Bucky by the way.”

You eye his hand, grabbing it after a second, letting him bring your knuckles to his lips. “Y/N.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, mama.” He shifts his body more towards you, running a hand through his hair. “You said you ain’t fond of dancin’?”

Shaking your head, you quickly defend yourself, “no, no. I like dancing. I’m just not very good. Got two left feet.”

He smirks, tongue poking out to run over those plump lips of his. “Well, with the right partner, it doesn’t really matter.”

“Are you asking me to dance, Bucky?”

“Not if you’re gonna say no.” He responds with a toothy grin, leaning his elbows on his knees.

You sigh and shake your head. “I’m afraid tonight’s not your night, pal. I just can’t seem to get myself in the mood.”

He hums, leaning back. “Is it the music? Too fast for you?”

“I wouldn’t mind if they slowed it down some, I suppose.”

He smiles cheekily. “I can help with that. Hold on.”

You grin at him, nodding. “I’ll be here.”

Watching him stand and make his way over to the stage, you quirk an eyebrow. He seems to know the band well, if the handshakes and the claps on the back have anything to say about it. He says something to the lead, who nods with a grin, shooting him a wink. Bucky laughs, but you can see a tint of pink dusting his cheeks, making you wonder what they were saying.

He makes his way back over as the band shifts tones, the animated swing changing to a slow jazzy number. Bucky beams at you, holding out his hand as he approaches. “Care to dance?”

You purse your lips, narrowing your eyes, but taking his hand anyways. “How’d you do that? Do you work here?’

“Uh…somethin’ like that.” He states vaguely, leading you to the dance floor with the other swaying couples. Pulling you as close as appropriate, his hands resting politely on your waist, he starts moving you side to side.

“That’s not ominous.” You place your hands on his shoulders, following his lead as you stare at your feet.

He chuckles, hooking a finger under your chin to lift your gaze. “I’ve gotcha, doll. I won’t let you fall.”

“I’m going to step on your feet.” You explain.

“Nah. You’re doin’ great. You just need to get outta your head. Relax a little. Tell me something about yourself.”

You hum. “Like what?”

“Anything.”

“Uh, okay…I have a roommate who is one of the girls who begged me to come, I’m a secretary - I know, boring - and…I dunno. I like reading.”

His eyes lighten at this. “Reading? Whaddya like to read?”

“Different things. Depends on my mood. I’m re-reading The Hobbit for, like, the twentieth time right now.”

“I love The Hobbit.” Bucky grins, making you smile back. “I read it almost as soon as it came out.”

“Me too! I was planning on reading it tonight but,” you gesture around. “Here I am.”

Bucky lips pull up softly, his hold on your waist tightening ever so slightly as he pulls you closer. “Well, as much as I love that book, I’m glad you came out tonight.”

Giving him a little tease, you tap your chin thoughtfully. “Eh…I think I’d rather be at home.”

He pinches your side gently, making you squeal and squirm. “That hurt, sugar. That physically hurt me. C’mon, mama, your gonna say you aren’t havin’ a good time?”

“I just met you ten minutes ago.”

“Well, sweetheart, if you think we’re movin’ too fast, I won’t introduce you to my folks just yet.”

You laugh, blinking up at him. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Buck.”

The two of you rock for a little while longer, before the band stops, announcing they’re taking a break and a special guest is going to play a little something.

“Maybe James Barnes is here.” You say, a bit of intrigue lacing your tone, trying to see through the crowds of people who started gathering around the stage to catch a glimpse of the charming pianist. “I see why he would be over the attention.”

“Yeah.” Bucky sighs, almost sadly, giving you an apologetic look. “Listen, I’ve gotta go work for a bit, but I’ll be right back.”

You smirk. “So you do work here?”

“Um…kinda. You’ll see.”

You raise an eyebrow at his words, but he’s kissing your knuckles and walking away. You frown, but can’t think more on it when three young women are on you, babbling about their dates.

“Who were you dancing with, Y/N? He was cute!”

You roll your eyes, feeling yourself heat up, and not because of the many bodies in the vicinity. “Just…some guy.”

“C’mon, c’mon! We’ve gotta get a good spot to actually see him!”

You huff, letting the drag you through the crowd, shoving their way towards the front just as a familiar deep voice spoke.

“Thanks for comin’ out, everyone. I hope your havin’ a good night. Let’s get this hop started, yeah?”

Your eyes widen when you finally catch sight of the man sitting at the piano with a polite smile on his features. He catches your eye and shoots you a wink, before his fingers start flying over the keys. The beam that he gets while tickling the gleaming ivories, his azure eyes lighting up, and you can’t fight the smile you get. He looks so relaxed, so invigorated, that it makes you happy just watching him.

“Oh my God! Weren’t you dancing with him?!” Lucy shook your shoulder obnoxiously, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, mesmerized with the way he played like it’s the only thing he wanted to do with his life. Which, as you remember his words, ‘he just likes playin’. That’s all.’ you figure it is the only thing he wanted to do with his life.

You just danced with James Barnes…and he’s just as perfect as everyone says.

You’re still trying to wrap your head around it, your friends jumping around you, trying to get every little detail of him from you, when your heart skips a beat and your brain malfunctions. Bucky had started up another song, slower and more intimate, and he’s looking right at you.

You find yourself doing something you never thought you would; you’re swooning over James Barnes, smiling like an idiot, heat blooming up your neck and flaming your face. And yes, he’s just a man - a human being - with flaws just like everyone else. But he’s a talented and gorgeous man, who has all of New York wanting to fall to her knees to please him.

And now that includes you.

#cjsinkythoughts #cjswriting #bucky barnes x reader #40s!bucky barnes x reader #40s!bucky x reader #bucky x reader #40s!bucky barnes #40s!bucky #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #40s!bucky barnes x you #40s!bucky barnes x y/n #hbc lucky in love #pianist!bucky barnes #💙🦾#💙🦾🎹#💙🦾📻#💙🦾📻🎹

376 notes · View notes

fanficsandmoregalore · 4 years

Text

Dog Days - Chapter 1

*visual aid, not my pics* (Ben on left, kylo on top, Matt on bottom)

A/N: Please don't get the wrong idea about what this fic will be about. It will all make sense when i put out more chapters, i swear.

Summary: You work at a vet clinic in a big city near your small hometown. You want to become a vet but are only an aid as of right now. You love animals, always have, and you know there are plenty of animals in the city that need your help. But what happens when you meet 3 very strange dogs one day?

You were walking to the Veterinary clinic that you worked at. You didn't want to be late so you made a quick breakfast and took it with you. You didn't live very from the clinic so you weren't too worried about being late, and you were only a veterinarian aid, you didn't do very much anyway. Living in the city, you learned how much people really valued their pets. You had seen so many families bring in their pets that were sick or injured and the joy on their faces when you told them their animal family members would be okay always brought you joy. You had always wanted to be a vet, ever since you were a child.

You were taken away from your thoughts as you felt yourself trip over something large. You fell onto the pavement and scraped up your hands and elbows.

"Ow, what the hell did i trip over?"

You looked around you and saw a dog in front of you, sniffing you as if it was making sure you were okay. It was a black and white border collie that looked like it was mixed with a great pyrenees. You got up a bit and sat on your knees. You immediately forgetting all your pain.

"Hi there, buddy."

The dog stared at you, its tail wagging very fast. You smiled at it and the dog got very excited and jumped up on you. You laughed and pet it, trying to look for a collar. You found it and read the name.

"Ben, huh? Well that's a very nice name for a very nice doggy. I'm (Y/n)."

Ben barked happily and bounced around in front of you and then went into the alley that you were in front of, which you hadn't noticed until now. You looked at him with confusion as he barked into the alley, you got up and followed him with caution. You watched and to your surprise, there was another dog. It was a golden retriever. You squatted down and smiled at it.

"Well, hello there." You tried to coax the dog over and noticed Ben was trying to get it to come over to you as well. The golden retriever was reluctant but came over eventually. You read its collar and the name on it read Matt.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you too, Matt."

Matt's tail began to wag and he sniffed your hand before putting his paw in your hand. You shook it with a smile on your face.

"What a gentleman."

Suddenly, you heard a can rolling in the alley. Another dog? You got excited but the excitement quickly faded when you heard the dog growling at you. You did your best to remain calm. The dog was a beauceron/german shepard mix and had a scar going down the side of its face. You felt yourself tense as it got close and sniffed you. It looked at you and you noticed Ben growling at it, being protective of you. The beauceron mix had a collar too so you tried to reach for it to read the name. As you did, the beauceron jumped, then growled and sank his teeth deep into your hand. Ben immediately bit the back of the beauceron mix's neck and pulled it away from you, growling and barking at it while standing between you and the dog that had just bit you. You didn't scream out in pain, you only winced a little as it stung. Then you made eye contact with the beau mix and smiled, hiding your immense pain.

"It's okay. I'll be fine."

The beauceron's ears perked up in surprise and the it huffed and walked off into the alley. Ben ran back and joined you and Matt, who had been licking your bleeding hand. You smiled at both of the sweet dogs and pet them.

"I'll be okay, but i should really get going or I'll be late for work. I'll be sure to come visit you soon, though."

You told the dogs good bye, while holding your bleeding hand, wrapping it with some of your jacket.

After you were out of sight, Ben went into the alley to where Kylo was laying. He bit his ear as hard as he could without ripping it off and Kylo pushed him off. Ben let go of Kylo's ear and growled at him.

"What the hell was that!?!?"

Kylo huffed and laid back down on his piece of carboard.

"She was gonna touch me and i didn't want her to."

"So you bit her!? She was so nice! She just wanted to know your name!"

Matt joined his brothers and chimed into the conversation.

"I have to side with Ben here, Kylo. Biting her was way out of line. We might be dogs, but you don't have to act like it."

Kylo got up and growled at the other two, Matt backed up a bit but Ben stood still.

"Oh yeah, well how about you tell that to mister tail wagger over here!"

"I couldn't help it, i was excited. She's cute and you know how i am around cute girls!"

Ben and Kylo began bickering and biting at each other and Matt just sighed.

"We'll never be human again."

The other two stopped their fighting and looked at Matt, then each other.

----

Meanwhile, you were at work, taking bandages and gauze to wrap your hand.

"(Y/n), oh my god, what happened?!"

You looked over and saw your friend, Poe. He was a veterinarian at the clinic, and a pretty good one, too. He rushed over to you and bandaged up your hand for you. You told him about the dogs you met in the alley and explained that one of them bit you.

"We need to check for rabies! Maybe they had some other kind of disease! You can't be so reckless, (Y/n)!"

Poe was freaking out worrying about you but you just laughed.

"It's not that big of a deal. It doesn't hurt or anything anymore. I think I'll be fine."

Just then, your boss walked in. Poe was quick to rat you out, for your own good as he put it, and the boss told you to go to the hospital and not to come to work until they knew you were clear of any rabies or infection.

You left work just as quick as you had arrived and meade your way to the hospital across town. As you did, you made sure to pass by the alley again, and just your luck, Ben came rushing at you. He must've smelled you as you got closer and Matt came shortly after, both of them were very happy to see you again.

"Hello boys. I can't stay long i have to go to the hospital. But since I'm here," you rummaged around in your bag and the two dogs looked at you woth confusion, "here, i won't be needing this." You pulled out your breakfast and broke it up into 3 equal pieces. You gave 2 of the pieces to Ben and Matt who seemed like they hadn't eaten in days, and if they were in the alley, then they more than likely haven't. Then you got up and walked to the alley.

"Hello. Other dog. Are you there?" You called out, and sure enough, the growling beauceron came out from its hiding spot. It walked toward you and you smiled and bent down. You held out the food in your bandaged hand, this made the beauceron mix stop in its tracks. It looked at you then looked away as it slowly approached you. When it got a few feet away, you inched towards it, still offering it your breakfast. It looked at you again, as if asking for permission.

"It's okay, my hand is fine. I know you were just protecting your alley." You smiled at the dog and it huffed. It finally got close enough to gently take the food from your hands and then run off to scarf it down. You waited while it ate the food quickly and returned to you. You stared at each other and you held still, your hands on your knees. The beauceron mix walked up to you, and got closer and closer. Then it sat in front of you and looked away. You smiled and slowly reached for its collar, this time it didn't even move.

"Kylo Ren. Wow, that sounds like a very strong name." Kylo's nub of a tail wagged but he remained still, looking angry even if he wasn't. You giggled and the other two boys appeared behind you, Ben whining to get your attention. You turned to him and stood up.

"Im sorry, buddy. That's all i have right now. After i leave the hospital, I'll come back with something yummy for you guys, okay?" You pet Ben and Matt as you walked out of the alley.

Just as you had promised, you left the hospital and picked up some cheap burgers from a fast food joint. It was dark out, you had been at the hospital all day and now it was late in the evening, you were walking to the alley but something felt wrong, but you brushed it off. You were just outside the alley and the 3 dogs saw you. Just as you were about to enter the alley, a man came up behind you and pushed you, face first, against the wall.

"Hey there, beautiful." He whispered in your ear with a deep and gravely jersey voice.

"Get off of me!"

"Ya know, i saw you walking by and just said to myself that i had to have a piece of you."

His words sent a intense shiver down your spine. You looked over your shoulder slightly and saw it was a bearded man in a black trenchcoat and a ski mask, and he smelled strongly of alcohol and cigarettes.

"G-get off .... or I'll scream!!"

"Scream and I'll gut ya......unless..... you gimme a kiss or all your money. Heh, how about both just for safe measures?"

He pushed something sharp against your back and you cried out for help before the guy kneed you in the back of your right leg. He let you fall to the ground and dragged you into the alley.

"Now your gonna pay." He said as he lifted his hand, a knife held tight in his grip. You closed your eyes as he swung at you but you felt no cut. Instead, you heard a growl. You opened your eyes at the familiar sound.

"The hell was that?" The man turned and from the darkness emurged your new four legged acquaintance, Kylo. He walked closer, intimidating as ever, fangs bared and his eyes staring straight at your attacker. The man started to back up, forgetting you were behind him. You took the opportunity to trip him and get up to run. You ran over to Kylo and he made sure to stand in front of you protectively.

"Hell no! I ain't scared of no dog!"

The man sprinted toward the both of you but Kylo was a lot faster and ran up and bit the man's forearm. The man yelled out in pain and dropped his knife. He fell to the ground and Kylo made sure to stay biting on his arm. While he did, you rushed over and kicked the knife away. The man tried punching Kylo and that was a big mistake. Kylo let go of the man's arm and was about to chomp down on his neck.

"Stop!"

You shouted. Kylo turned to look at you. You were in front of the other 2 dogs and they were all watching as he was about to bite down on this man's neck. Kylo turned back to the man who has passed out from fear. Kylo huffed and turned back around to you and the other dogs, walking over and sniffing you to make sure you were okay. You kneeled down and hugged him tightly.

"Kylo, my hero! Thank you!"

Kylo huffed again and wiggled out of your grip. You laughed and pet him with your bandaged hand.

"Still not the affectionate type, huh?"

You got up to walk toward the unconscious man but were interrupted.

"Hey! What's going on here? Someone reported a lot of noise coming from this alley."

It was a police officer. He put his flashlight down the alley and you quickly walked towards him.

"Officer, this man tried to rob me and threated to stab me!"

You told him everything you could and he cuffed the man, then put him in his car parked outside the alley. The officer came back to talk to you.

"That man had a nasty bite on his arm. Mind explaining that to me?"

"Absolutely. You see, this dog named Kylo was in the alley and saw the man attacking me so he came in to rescue me."

"Well that's very brave. Unfortunately, they are out on the streets so I'll have to take them to the pound."

Just then, Ben, Matt, and Kylo came over to you and looked up at you. The police officer noticed their collars.

"Oh, are these your dogs?"

You looked down at the dogs who were looking at you with concern, you smiled and then looked back up at the officer.

"Yes, sir." You said happily. Matt and Ben began wagging their tails and looked at the cop with a proud posture.

"They are supposed to be on a leash if they aren't indoors or at the dog park, miss."

"I'm sorry, sir. I live just a few buildings down and they are very well trained. They always stay close to me so i was taking them out for a short walk and-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. That's enough. I'm gonna let you off with a warning seeing as i got more important things to deal with right now."

The police officer gestured to the man who attacked you and you sighed in relief. You thanked the officer and he went to his car and drove off. You looked down at the 3 dogs and smiled.

"Let's go home."

#solo triplets #matt solo x reader #kylo ren x reader #ben solo x reader #matt solo #kylo ren #ben solo #star wars

81 notes · View notes

eatgraypes · 7 years

Text

Engaged Part II

Character/Person : Marquis de Lafayette

Pairing : Marquis de Lafayette x Reader

Time : Modern

Reader's Gender : Female

Side Note : If your name is Valerie or Effie you're free to imagine those two character's names as something else

Warnings : swearing ( as always ), google translated french, lafayette being really sexual in front of children, mentions of death, miscarriage, terribly written smut, i sLIPPED A WHOLE BUNCH OF ORGASM JOKES NEAR THE END IM SORRY

Possibility Of Having Another Part : tbh idk if i made an engaged pt. 3 then it'd be really short like 1.5k words

Genre : Starts off as fluff, then angst, then sexy fluff, but turns into smut

Request : None

Word Count : 8391

Summary : After you pour your heart out to Lafayette about a very touchy subject, he shows you a different side of him that you thought didn’t existed. Sexual tension ensues after you, too, show a caring side and not long afterwards things get heated.

Part I Part II

Quickly setting down every fork and spoon and pacing back to the kitchen and into the dining room, you were getting hungrier by the minute. You ached for the moment where you would be able to take a seat, talk to your relatives, and just dine. But that wouldn't be happening anytime soon as your mother was still cooking her last dish. Making you grow more and more impatient as you watched her stir the bisque slowly.

"Mom, we could've been done with the food ages ago! You didn't have to add this meal," you groaned. She waved you off with her free hand.

"Nonsense, darling! Your fiance's French. I think it'd be nice to make a French dish."

"Magnifique!" You groaned even louder at the familiar voice that rang out. If the floor swallowed you right then and there you wouldn't have minded.

"Why, thank you, Gilbert. See, Y/N? Even your husband has better manners than you." Lafayette raised an eyebrow at you, a smug look apparent, and you huffed and turned your head off to the side.

"He's not my husband."

Grumbling, you pried your attention off of your mother and Lafayette to the platter of fish in front of you. Picking up two lemon slices, you squeezed it and silently prayed the night would go faster and the first official day of the reunion would start already. You would rather be stuck in your bed doing Thomas's paperwork and listening to him fuck someone into oblivion, making you unable to sleep and focus than be forced to comply with your mother and cook with her. God, what you would do to be back at home.

Being lost in these thoughts and prayers, you didn't feel Lafayette curl his arms around your waist and bury his tanned face into your neck. You didn't realize this until he murmured a few words into the crook of your neck, sending vibrations against you.

"Ce qui serait encore mieux que mes manières serait de vous sentir contre moi" /what would be even better than my manners would be to feel you against me/

You jumped, raising your hands that were covered in lemon juice to push him, but he caught your wrists before you could touch him and pulled you against him, spinning you around while doing so. Your position was cliche, to say the least. Your backside was pulled up against him as his hands were snaked around you from behind, holding you gently yet firmly. You could feel his smile push on your skin.

"Continue to squeeze the lemons, chéri. Just act like I'm not here." He whispered, sensually.

The feeling sent chills down your spine. He chuckled, feeling you shiver slightly. You didn't find it as amusing as he did. Instead of laughing, you muttered curse words underneath your breath and hoped something would interrupt the two of you so he could get away from you. Your hope even grew when you heard your mother gasp loudly.

Both you and Lafayette glanced up to see your mother gaping at your position.

"You two look so cute," you, too, gaped. But instead of gaping in delight, just as your mother was doing, you gaped at your mother in disbelief. Is she serious? Lafayette took a second to search for your reaction, and he wasn't displeased. Your wide eyes, furrowed eyebrows, and slightly parted mouth was enough to get the Frenchman to laugh. He pressed you closer to him, adoringly.

"I need a picture of this!"

Scrambling out of the kitchen and into her bedroom, you took the opportunity to turn and slap Lafayette. But somehow perfectly replicating your past situation: before you could lay a hand on his goddamn perfect face Lafayette's slender fingers were latched onto your wrist, stopping you from hitting him.

You narrowed your eyes at him and wriggled your hand, trying to pry it out of his hold but he gave you a look of warning. If you didn't know any better you'd assume he was warning you about your family watching, but there wasn't any standing around in the kitchen so that thought was out of the picture.

With everything that's been thrown at you in such a short time you nearly forgot the deal with Lafayette, and the memory itself made you especially miss home. In exchange of him being your fiancé, you were to do everything and anything he wanted you to do. You relaxed but let your eyes continue to glare sharply at him.

He leaned forward and took your pointer finger into his mouth. Then two. Then three. Your face flushed. You could feel his tongue swirl around your finger, dipping low to take in the last of the lemon juice that dripped from your fingers. His eyes twitched slightly from the sour taste radiating off of your fingers, but it didn't stop him from licking it off. But, God, what effected you most was that he made eye contact all the while he did this.

"I got the camera, pose!"

As soon as your mother's shuffling feet was heard from the dim hallway, Lafayette dropped your fingers from his hand and spun you around so you could face the table. Laying his head atop of yours, he smiled at your mother's camera that she held up to her face. You kept your eyes focused on the platter of food in front of you, staring at the scattered lemons you placed. Every part of you ached once your eyes caught sight of the lemon juice running down the side of the dish. Your mind replayed the scene Lafayette created where he was sensually licking off the lemon juice of your fingers and you could feel your thoughts slowly trickling off to different, more sexual images. Heat spread throughout your body as your face caught up with it, causing a crimson color to fill your cheeks.

Too caught up in your thoughts, you didn't hear the camera click.

"Y/N, you didn't even look at the camera!"

Ripped away from the fantasies of Lafayette lapping of different fluids from you, you glanced up to meet your mother's eyes, looking at you with disappointment. Cheeks still glowing red, you shrugged,

"I slept on my makeup on the way here and I didn't get to touch it up, so maybe tomorrow?"

You tapped on Lafayette's hand for some backup but he only grinned down at you, a look you didn't trust at all, and smiled back up at your mother,

"Y/N, you look beau." /beautiful/

Your mother nodded eagerly and clenched her camera tightly to her body, ready to take another picture. You threw your head back into Lafayette's chest and sighed at your mother's excitement. You really didn't want to have a picture of you and Lafayette acting like a couple and being 'engaged' forever.

"Exactly! If I don't take this picture, what will you show your children?"

You parted your lips and wiped your hands on your sleek black work pants.

"Children? Mother, I-" You furrowed your eyebrows, searching for the right words to say. You couldn't say you didn't want children, you did want at least one. You clearly couldn't say Lafayette wasn't your real fiance, that'd be a real fiasco. Damn it. What could you say?

"I-"

"Oh! Why didn't anyone tell me the bisque was burning!"

Quickly, she handed the camera to Lafayette and returned to mixing the bisque in the silver handled pot.

Lafayette eyed the camera and you leaned back into him to see the picture your mother had taken. Much to your surprise, Lafayette tilted it so you could get a better view. In the picture, Lafayette had his head nestled against yours, a bright smile occupying his mouth with his arms tight around your waist. You could see your face painted red and the common habit you had, caught on camera. Your bottom lip was caught in between your teeth as one of your hands were brought up to your face to brush a strand of hair out of your view. If Lafayette were to be someone else, you'd admit the picture was cute.

"You look lovely at my side, chéri. I'd love to see more pictures of you tucked into me." /darling/

This was going to be a long couple of days.

"Where's my sister-in-law and niece, Y/B/N?" You questioned, gathering as much salad as you could onto your fork and taking a bite.

Your mother planned the seating. You were seated next to Lafayette at the edge of the table, to his right. Your mother and father were seated right across from you, and to the side was your brother. Instead of taking the healthier food as you did, he piled his plate with all the pasta and chicken he could fit and practically inhaled his food. You would've done the same and most likely would've bet money on who could finish their plate first, but you didn't want to give Lafayette any stories to tell when you both got back to work at home.

"Valerie's mom is at the hospital and she wanted to bring Effie there just in case something happened to her mom. Y'know, so Effie could say her last words to her grandma. Don't worry though. She'll be here tomorrow."

You nodded and set down your fork, clanking it against your glass of water by accident as you did so. Using one hand to lift your glass and the other to toy with the edge of your napkin, you pulled your cup to your lips and took a sip.

"Y/N, when am I getting grandchildren out of you?"

You nearly choked on your water, rushing to set it down and hurriedly wiping your mouth with a napkin. Lafayette bit back a laugh, holding it ineffectively as a few snorts erupted from him. The same damn snorts you called cute two days ago. Straightening your back and inhaling deeply, you spoke,

"I'm sorry?"

You moved your head to the side, trying to fully comprehend what your mother just said.

"Don't be coy. Y/B/N is younger than you and he already has a child. When are you getting one?"

"Mother," you quieted. She continued to press, but you continued to shut her suggestions down. Shutting your eyes and steadying your breathing, you composed yourself.

"Not until we're married."

Lafayette didn't let the strange behavior at the mention of a child go unnoticed. But deciding not to question it in fear of adding up to the awkward tension at the table, he changed the subject.

"I don't know if you have heard of the news yet, but mon fleur was promoted at work. She's got a position almost higher than mein." /my flower/ /mine/

Your eyes snapped open and you threw a look towards his direction, staring at him in shock. Still a bit uncomfortable from the talk of you bearing a child, you slightly gawked. Why and how did Lafayette remember something as silly as your promotion? In return of your gaze, he sent you a smile and reached over to grab your spare hand that wasn't nursing a glass of water. By instinct, you pulled away but he sent you a warning glance and tutted his head towards your parents, implying that your jerking action wasn't exactly what an engaged couple would do.

Putting on your best warming smile, you narrowed your eyes at Lafayette and gripped his hand harshly. He yelped but continued to hold your hand that was smaller in size and smoother compared to his.

After dinner, both yourself and Lafayette excused yourselves from the table and went off to your childhood bedroom, doing your best to ignore the sexual comments Lafayette was spurring. Turning the doorknob to your room and swinging it open, you were surprised to see everything you had before you moved out still in tact and sitting idly in the same spots they were in.

"This is a cute room, yours?" Lafayette scanned the room, rotating his body as he did. You raised an eyebrow and let your mouth quirk upwards, though Lafayette was too busy taking a look around to see your sarcastic smile.

"No, this is my brother's room." You lifted an arm and gestured at the baby blue walls that were plastered in posters and pictures of you and friends. Surely something your brother didn't have on his walls.

"Oh, mon dieu! Is that Laurens?" /my god/

Lafayette rushed forward at a small Polaroid picture of you and John, long before you met Hercules. Your arm was around his shoulders and vice versa. His curly brown hair was messily tied back into his ponytail as yours was down and perfectly shaping your face. Your cheek was pressed against his, smiles painting both of you. The lights you both gave off by your presence was contrasted by the dark scenery and setting you stood in. It was a cute picture. You were fifteen and John was sixteen, but you were both in the same grade.

Lafayette lowly chuckled at the way your tongue slightly stuck out of your open mouthed smile and the way your eyes were shut tightly, mimicking John's expression. Your pose made it seem like you were singing aloud.

"You look étourdissant when your hair is down." /stunning/

You laughed,

"If that's French for poise, amazing, gorgeous, magnificent, then yes I know. Also, I've known you for four years, and you've never seen me with my hair down?" You didn't take your eyes off of the picture as you spoke. Slowly moving on to look at the other pictures that surrounded it.

"I guess not."

You were busy admiring an old picture of you getting a piggy back ride on John, who was getting a piggy back ride on Hercules when the sound of a picture being crinkled sliced the silence you were adapting to abruptly. You turned your head quickly, already reaching forward, ready to snatch any pictures from Lafayette just in case he was crumbling one up. But instead of seeing him do so, as you expected, he was merely just lifting a picture up.

It was the same picture of you and John, arms over shoulders, and drunken expressions. It was the same picture of you where Lafayette complimented your appearance when your hair was down. It was the same picture of you that you clearly remembered pinning up over another picture.

"Wait, Laf-"

You grabbed onto his arm, silently pleading for him to stop, but he already lifted the picture of you and had sight of the small picture below the one of you and John. His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes drooped with sorrow, finally understanding what the 'baby' tension at the dinner table was about. You lifted a hand and rested it on your stomach, taking in the sight and a mellow expression.

"I had a miscarriage," you started, staring at the Polaroid. You damned yourself for speaking, but it was too late to backpedal. Lafayette was already gazing intently at it, and he probably had a million questions flying through his mind.

You sighed and studied the Polaroid, again. It's edges were dirty and bent, but the picture in the middle looked new. You could still make out the small details in your sundress and baby bump underneath. You were pressed against another man's body. A man Lafayette was unable to recognize, unlike your other pictures that were just filled with John, Hercules, and yourself. Ones that Lafayette was able to name without hesitation.

The stranger's arms were around your waist, caressing the bump that was tight underneath your yellow dress. You could go on and on, describing the details of the picture, but you let out a cry, immediately snatching Lafayette's attention.

"Y/N, I'm sorry." He looked at you worryingly, as if he was going to cry himself. But you didn't look at him. Unable to catch his gaze, you kept your eyes focused on the picture, continuing to tell the story behind it, not allowing the tears slipping down your cheeks to stop you.

"We-"

You paused and took a breath, sniffling along the way. With choked words, you carried on,

"we were engaged. A day before our marriage I came to him and told him it wasn't going to come. They weren't going to come."

You let out a jagged breath, muffling your cries by placing a hand over your mouth. Lafayette grabbed you by your shoulders and pulled you close to him, letting you take in the scent of him.

"I was having twins, Lafayette. Twins."

He stroked your hair gently, encouraging you to keep talking, resting his chin upon it while he did so.

"After I told him about the miscarriage he went out for a drive. Later that night, I got a call. He drove off of a bridge, straight into the water." You strained. It was slightly muffled as your face was dug into Lafayette's chest, but he could hear you clearly, understanding every single word you said.

"I still don't know if he did it intentionally or if he was just so caught up in his emotions that he just-" you broke out into sobs once more. Lafayette patted your back and shushed you,

"hey, just breathe."

Still comprehending it, he gently rubbed circles into your neck until you calmed a bit. Even taking it as to lifting you up and laying you down on your back on the satin sheets and covering your body with the blanket. After getting you comfortable, he moved off of his resting knee and got up to get changed but you sat up and gripped onto his wrist. The first two times he gripped your wrist was playful, with a mischievous feeling coating him, but you held a worried, almost fearful one.

You didn't have to say any words for him to understand. He searched your eyes for any regret you might've had, but none.

He nodded and crawled over to your side, lightly resting a hand against your back to test the waters. You leaned into his touch, much to his surprise and joy, and fisted his shirt, pulling his body closer.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"You don't need to keep apologizing, it's not your fault."

Lafayette shook his head, tracing patterns on your arm.

"No. I'm sorry you feel this way. I'm sorry you blame it on yourself,"

"I don't-"

"Y/N."

You sighed in defeat. It was way too late to start arguing, and even if you did, you'd be on the wrong side of the argument. Because you knew Lafayette was correct. You blamed it on yourself. If you hadn't told your fiance about the miscarriage, you would've only lost two important people in your life. But because of your words, you lost the man you were giving your hand to. The man you were going to grow old with. The man you loved with all of your heart.

"Okay," you glanced up at Lafayette who you expected to scowl at you, but instead softly smiled. You let out a last sigh,

"okay." It was more of a confirmation to yourself than Lafayette, but he took it anyways and settled for it.

"How is it mon fleur looks even prettier when she wakes up?" /my flower/

You scanned your surroundings warily, before noticing last night definitely wasn't a dream and was instead something that actually happened. And you were kind of glad it was.

"Y'know, Laf, my family isn't around. You don't have to compliment me."

You sat up and rubbed at your eyes, expecting Lafayette to get up too, but he laid there and stared at you with a smile.

"But I mean every word I say, chéri." /darling/

"Sure," you rolled your shoulders and slid your foot off of the mattress and onto the wooden floor. The air conditioner that waved out of the vents sent a chilling breeze over you, causing you to shiver.

"Cold? Want me to warm you up?"

You turned to Lafayette with a raised eyebrow and exhausted smile,

"do you only sleep at night to refuel your pickup lines?"

"Nope. I also sleep so that when I see you, I am awake enough to take in all of your beauty and every detail and every flaw."

You rolled your eyes and faced forward again, cursing under your breath,

"smooth bastard."

"That I am, chaton." /kitten/

"You just can't stick to one nickname either, can you?"

"Nope." He quipped, a joyful smile gracing his tan skin. You shook your head in amusement, a soft laugh following after; getting off of the bed.

As you approached your suitcase, which was hauled into the corner of the room, you could hear Lafayette's humming slowly fading off the farther you strayed from him, and you soon began to wonder. Was his subtle confession true? If it was, were you able to reciprocate it? Or would that be lying to both him and you? Of course you'd admit: the man wasn't ugly, or even decent looking. He was definitely a gorgeous man, and he knew it. If you didn't know him as much as you do, you would've fallen for the man. But you did know him the way you did, sadly. He was rude, snarky, a diva, and wanted to be treated better than you. But the way he was acting recently had been caring, selfless, loving, and self sacrificing. It didn't sound like you were describing the same person, and if you were being completely honest, you were falling for said person. He proved himself to be observant of your life and held onto things that were special to you. Such as your promotion at work. That meant everything in the world to you. It was almost everything you wanted. And Lafayette remembered that. You don't just remember your enemy's favorite color, or food, or anything like that. So you were sure Lafayette saw you as something better than an enemy, or even a friend. God, you hoped so.

It felt wrong to go from hating someone to liking them romantically in twenty four hours, but you just did. And you loved it.

"Y/N, you look gorgeous!"

Your aunt approached you with her arms open, ready to engulf you in her embrace. You accepted it nonetheless and smiled in the hug,

"Thank you, you too."

Your aunt's eyes flickered over to Lafayette, who was introducing himself to your swooning cousins.

"And is this young man with you? He's gorgeous too." You bit back a laugh, glaring at her.

"Okay, go meet with the others and I'll talk to you later. I don't want you ogling my fiancé anymore." You let out the laugh you were holding back, pushing her in the opposite direction of Lafayette, despite her very clear protests.

"Gorgeous?"

The French accent you suddenly loved to hear rang out in your ears. Ever since you broke down the night before, you and Lafayette had grown into a better relationship. He had the ability to hold your hand and waist without you flinching and pulling away in disgust. Or have an actual conversation with you without you firing insults at him to get him to stop talking to you. Needless to say, both of you were secretly loving the changes.

"Hey, she said it not me."

He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to kiss your cheek, but you pressed a palm against his lips. It was an odd, teasing action that both of you seemed to do often for the past two days.

"There are children here, Lafayette."

He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned,

"so you're saying you wouldn't mind kissing me elsewhere, where there aren't children?" You rolled your eyes, but took this as an opportunity to find out if he returned your feelings.

"Maybe, I am. But only if you want it as much as I do."

The same arms that snaked around you, tightened. Your body was flush against his, and it fit together so well, almost like a puzzle piece.

"In that case, chaton, I want it more than you think."

He leaned forward to kiss you again, but you turned your head off to the side so his lips came in contact with your cheek.

"Maybe later, I'm hungry."

You shrugged quickly and walked off with a bounce to your step, leaving the Frenchman annoyed and slightly aroused.

You smirked the entirety of your walk towards the barbecue grill, knowing Lafayette was probably going to be in an annoyed mood the entire day. Picking up a couple of ribs and setting them onto your plate, you looked for any sauce that was available for you to pour onto your food. But instead, a thin figure being pulled by a smaller one caught your attention.

"Valerie!" You called, one hand cupping around your mouth.

Valerie turned around, along with Effie, her five year old daughter, and smiled. But that wasn't the first thing you noticed. The first thing on Valerie that caught your attention wasn't her extravagant purse, or large sunhat, or even her daughter holding onto her, but the baby bump that was very apparent under her sunset sweater. The sight of it almost made your smile drop, almost.

Masking your sadness with a charming and flashing smile, you lifted an arm and raised it high above your head, waving it. You were aware you were the loudest one among the crowd of relatives and relatives's significant others and most likely drawing attention but that's how it usually was when you met up with Valerie. Loud, unnecessary, and eye catching. Before you moved away and became close with Peggy, Valerie was your best friend and always had been.

"Y/N! I heard you're engaged to the Frenchie over there." She leaned in close and whispered, as if she was spilling a deep dark secret, and quickly glanced at your ring finger.

"Yeah, I am."

Valerie wiggled her eyebrows and cupped a hand around the corners of her mouth, prepared to whisper something.

"Have you done the.." She stopped at realization that she was still holding her child's hand and bit her tongue, carefully choosing her words.

"Y'know!"

You giggled, fumbling with the plate of ribs in your hold.

"I'm afraid I don't know."

Valerie glared at you, clicking her tongue and teeth to think about her next words.

"Has he, uh, scrambled your eggs? Put the key into the ignition? Slipped the thread into the needle? Dipped the paintbrush into-"

You stopped her, laughing.

"I get it, I get it! Mon dieu. Are you trying to ruin sex for me?" /my god/

One of Valerie's eyebrows flew up,

"firstly, you were never getting laid anyways, so how can I ruin it for you? Secondly, 'mon dieu?' Y/N, that's French. Your fiancé is French, you're speaking a language that you never cared to learn before.. Does he mumble that much French during sex that you've picked up on his language, or-"

For the second time in the past few minutes you stopped her from speaking, not wishing to hear anymore of her rambling. Especially when her child was right next to her.

"Okay, that's enough."

Effie giggled from underneath her mother's hold, causing both you and Valerie to look down at her. You eyed her curiously,

"And what's so funny?"

You kneeled down to meet her gaze and smiled at her. She bent backwards, clamping her hand around her mouth to cover her giggles. You glanced up at Valerie to see her just as confused as you were. She shrugged and turned to search the table for food. Turning your attention back to Effie, you grinned,

"Well, if you're not going to tell me-"

You held up your hand that wasn't currently holding a plate full of ribs and wiggled your fingers, signifying that you were going to tickle her.

"No, no!" She cried out, shoving your hand away with hers. She huffed before giggling again,

"You're going to marry a prince!" Your frown dropped at the mention of marrying Lafayette, who you assumed to be the 'Prince,' but you quickly grinned again before Effie could spot your change of mood.

"Prince?" You laughed,

"I don't think I'm going to marry a Prince, Ef. I wish I could, then you could wear all those cute puffy dresses with me!"

She shook her head, her head full of curls bouncing at her action.

"Laffy told me he was a Prince, and he wanted you to be his Princess." You tilted your head,

"that so? Then I'll have to have a talk with 'Laffy' because I'm busy being a Queen to be his Princess."

Immediately after you spoke, you felt an arm slide around your waist and pull you to their side. In a quick movement, you let your other hand grip onto your plate, keeping it from falling over.

You darted your eyes over to the arm's owner and came face to face with the 'Prince.' You narrowed your eyes as he merely grinned,

"Lafayette! My ribs could've tipped off of my plate."

He scoffed,

"I came here to spend time with my girl, and you're worried about your ribs?"

"The Prince is here!"

You pushed his arm off of you and got up from your kneeling position, unable to hear Effie going on and on about Lafayette being a Prince due to the many thoughts exploding in your head.

"First of all, I'm not your girl. Second, duh. If you weren't my 'fiance,' I would've brought a basket of bread as my date." You put air quotes around the word 'fiance,' forgetting Valerie and Effie were still present.

"What's with the air quotes- Y/N, you didn't."

Your face dropped as you slowly turned your head to meet Valerie's intense gaze. You could hear Lafayette's snickering from beside you, and you slapped his arm, still keeping your eyes drawn to Valerie.

"I did?"

"I can't help you with this one, Y/N. You're a Queen, and I'm just a mere prince."

"Shut the fuck up, Lafayette."

"Children are around, chéri." /darling/

After your sister-in-law had accidentally found out about your engagement to Lafayette being fake, she handed her daughter to Lafayette, and dragged you off to the corner of your mother's backyard. In hushed voices, she demanded you to tell her everything.

"How do you get fake engaged to someone you hate?"

"I just told you, were you not listening?" You scowled but Valerie just waved you off.

"No I did! I'm just confused. Why did he walk into your office anyways?"

You ran a hand over your face and sighed.

"He was dropping something off for a coworker."

Valerie slowly nodded, trying to register what you were telling her. It definitely took her a few seconds, but she came to understand.

"Please tell me you still don't hate the man. You two would be so cute together!" You stared at her as she listed reasons as to why you and Lafayette would be a fantastic couple.

"I hate to rain on your parade but I still hate him." It wasn't a full lie. You could hate someone and still like them at the same time. Valerie didn't see through your words, instead groaning,

"this can't be true. You two are meant to be. If you guys don't end up fucking and come back to next year's reunion actually engaged then I'm going to sue."

You laughed.

"For what? Not getting with the guy you want me to be with?" Valerie huffed and puffed her chest,

"exactly!"

You glanced behind your back to take a peek at the party exploding behind you. Right in the center was Effie and Lafayette. Effie was tucked in Lafayette's arms as he spun her around, dancing to the music. Even with the bustling crowd and booming music, you found peace when your eyes settled on Lafayette.

"Y/N.."

You turned at the sound of Valerie's voice, a taunt lacing in her words.

"You're staring at him with those doe eyes and lovestruck-"

"Valerie. Get over it. It's not happening, never will."

She shrugged, not believing your words for a second. A smirk was still evident on her face as you walked away and back to the food table. Halfway through your walk, and having to push past many relatives to get through you were relieved to finally have sight of the table, meaning you were getting close. You were a few feet away from it when an arm reached for you and grabbed hold of you, pulling you towards them and into the massive crowd of people dancing.

You yelped loudly and thrashed around, trying to escape the stranger's hold to get to back to the plate of ribs you left back at the table.

"Relax, it's me, chaton." /kitten/

The voice chuckled and you sighed, a little annoyed but relieved, relaxing into the familiar pair of arms.

“Fuck, I almost had a heart attack.” He chortled, continuing to pull you towards the center of the dancing flock of people and away from the table full of food. You eyed it sadly, desperately wanting to grab a swig of the alcohol or taste the cupcakes your mother laid out.

“Well, don’t relax now! We’re going to dance!” He cheered loudly, obviously having had a few drinks while you were off talking to Valerie. You laughed at his behavior, being dragged further into the sea of drunk, sober, and a good array of a mix.

When coming to a stop he turned on his heel and grabbed your hand, twirling you. You giggled as you did, watching Lafayette drunkenly focus on dancing with you. He grabbed your hips as you lightly swayed, maturely dancing, which was the polar opposite of everyone else around you who crazily jumped and shouted to the music. Lafayette was a good mix of both. He wasn’t jumping around and hollering lyrics in broken English, but he wasn’t calmly dancing as you were. As you strutted back and forth with a rhythmic pattern, you caught sight of Lafayette’s eyes trailing down your body and back up, a click of a tongue and a disapproving shake of a head following right after.

“You’re too stiff, lighten up chéri! This isn’t a meeting at work!” He grabbed your arms and waved them around for you, smiling brightly. One that definitely resembled a star out in the night sky. You let your arms still, allowing Lafayette to thrash them around like you were some ragdoll.

“And this isn’t a club, minou.” /kitty/ You shot back, playfully glaring and crossing your arms. Lafayette chuckled and stopped dancing, mimicking your pose.

“French? Ah, little chaton knows more than I thought.”

“Nah, I pulled up google translate when you weren’t looking.”

Lafayette shook your words off and continued to dance, pulling you close - for the twentieth time that day - and spun you back into him, again. You glanced up to him and noticed the way the lights above shone on Lafayette’s face. The moonlight contributed to giving him a certain glow. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but it made him look heavenly. The rush of feelings and thoughts you had in the morning came rushing back and you let your eyes occasionally flicker to his lips. He did the same. It wasn’t long before you couldn’t keep your eyes off of his lips and your gaze just remained there, waiting for you to lean in and mold your mouths together.

“Lafayette?” Your voice was meant to be strong and confident, but it came out small, a whisper even.

He hummed in response, too focused on your lips and the way you, too, glowed to actually hear what you were saying.

“Is it okay if I-” Before the full sentence could leave your parted lips, Lafayette smashed his against yours. His tanned hands flew up to your hair, tangling itself in them, and the other grabbed your cheek, letting you lean into his touch. Your hands were gripping onto the collar of his shirt, balling it up in your fists. He pushed into you, making you lean back and his hands to fall down to your spine to hold you steadily as he pressed his lips against yours. Your lips stung with something you couldn’t describe. It was something you hadn’t felt with your past boyfriends and something that ignited your body with a hot fire, setting you alight. As soon as the need for air arrived you pulled away, much to Lafayette’s displeasure, and gasped for air in front of him. Your eyes searched his face as his did yours. Silence passed of both of you just staring at each other, ignoring the bumping bodies and blasting music and enjoying each other’s presence that it almost made you jump when Lafayette spoke up.

“Let’s do that again.”

You don’t exactly know how, but after you and Lafayette shared a rather heated kiss in the moonlight in the middle of a dance floor you somehow wounded up in your childhood bedroom. Back pressed against the wall covered with childhood taken photos, breathy moans escaping your throat, shirt and skirt torn off and thrown without a care to the side, and the feeling of both of your sticky skin rubbing against each other, the night was pure bliss from here on out.

“Jesus, fuck!” Lafayette chuckled as you muttered a string of curse words, throwing your head back to give Lafayette more access. He grinned into your neck and traced his tongue over your jawline, the feeling of his erection pressed against your heat made you crave him even more. You shivered and ran your fingers through his hair, tugging and pulling at it’s ends, only erupting a small groan and a wider grin from him.

“Little chaton’s really eager for this.” You pried your eyes open to see a smirk evident on his face. You rolled your eyes and let your hands press against his chest.

“Says the person who hauled me in this room in the first place.” He shrugged.

“Can you blame moi? You’re a déesse.” /me/ /goddess/

Your chest heaved causing Lafayette to focus his attention onto them, kneading them and peppering small, wet kisses on both.

“God, Lafayette, why haven’t we done this sooner?” You asked, out of breath. He removed his hands from your breasts and placed them both on the back of your thighs, lifting you up and making his way over to your bed. Laying you gently down on your satin sheets he spoke,

“Perhaps because one of us were too blinded by hatred to notice the sexual tension?”

Whining at the sudden loss of contact and ignoring whatever it is Lafayette had said, your hands immediately flew to your body, ready to pleasure yourself, but Lafayette caught your wrists, clicking his tongue and shaking his head at your actions.

“Remember our deal, ma beau. You listen to me. And I’m telling you: do not touch yourself.” /my beautiful/ His French accent came out a lot thicker than it usually was, making your body warmer and more tense. How haven’t you noticed how hot that French accent was? Blinded by the thoughts of sex, you hadn’t noticed Lafayette unclasping your bra and latching onto one of your nipples. It wasn’t until he twisted your other that you were pulled away from fantasies and into reality.

“Oh, fuck!”

Your eyes clamped shut in satisfaction as your hands found Lafayette’s bare arms, clawing at them. Lafayette tightened his hold on your nipple and rolled it in between his first finger and thumb. You loudly moaned and resisted the urge to reach down and roll your clit to further push your pleasure. Lafayette, who had noticed your twitching hand and clenching fingers, trailed his hand down from your chest, to your stomach, and down your northern regions.

Butterflies swarmed your stomach and you could practically hear your heartbeat thumping in your chest, aching and begging for Lafayette to touch you, to insert himself into you, to do anything. So when he lightly traced a finger against your inner thigh, your heart exploded. It was at a pace too fast to track as your vision blurred.

At a dreadfully painful pace, Lafayette’s fingers made it’s way to your core, pressing down on your clothed heat. You moaned, your breathing sped as his hands danced it’s way back up to your waist, playing with the band of your underwear. Growing frustrated at the loss of Lafayette touching you, you sat up and reached for your underwear, slipping it off halfway and thinking nothing of Lafayette’s orders. Said man let out a growl like noise from his throat and glared. pushing you back onto the bed using the hand that wasn’t playing with your underwear, holding back from ripping off your underwear and slamming himself into you right then and there. It was hard to hold back on both accounts, both squirmed for contact though Lafayette had a better job of masking it, keeping his cool and taking his time in teasing you.

“I told you not to touch yourself.” His accent came out thick again, causing the wetness that pooled in your panties to grow larger, making your need for Lafayette higher. You moaned at the sound of his voice and ground your hips onto the bed, ruffling the sheets in the process, trying to get some sort of friction.

“I mean, I-” Before you could finish, Lafayette shoved a finger inside of you. It didn’t hurt, quite the opposite, but you shouted from surprise and the sudden feeling of something filling you up. Lafayette grinned at your reaction, pushing in another finger. Your eyes closed. Then another finger. You sighed in satisfaction. It was when he reached four fingers that you were leaving short, airy moans, encouraging Lafayette to continue. Your clenched against Lafayette’s fingers as you grew closer to your orgasm, and Lafayette only sped up. Your moans gradually became louder and more sensual sounding when Lafayette curled his fingers and brushed against your spot, a scream pouring out from your lungs.

After hitting your first orgasm, you breathed heavily, attempting to climb down from your high. You stared down at Lafayette, wiping away your sweat, and caught sight of him wrapping his mouth around his fingers and lapping away at the fluids you spilled. The lemon juice incident replayed in your head, making you groan at the sight.

“I didn’t know I could make a woman scream with only my fingers.”

Chest still heaving, you breathily laughed.

“Yeah? Well, you did. Congratulations.”

Lafayette laughed along with you and turned to fumble with his belt buckle.

“Mon Dieu. I’ve been wanting to do this forever. Are you okay?” He turned his head, rolling it against his neck to peek over his shoulder and back at you for reassurance that you were ready and fully consented to him. Sitting up on your knees fully undressed you smiled and silently nodded, giving him the okay.

He nodded to himself and slid out of his pants, then his undergarments. You took a moment to sneak a glance at his size, and you weren’t disappointed. You just weren’t sure how he was going to fit. He climbed onto the bed, then onto you, and placed a soft, more passionate kiss on your lips. You dipped low into the bed from the weight, and kissed Lafayette back. You could feel his smile shift into the kiss and he pulled away, still smiling. And it seemed genuine. Unlike the other times he grinned at you because of a sexual joke he made or smirked because you did something stupid and embarrassed yourself, no. His eyes were an equal mix of lust and passion, and with the smile added to it you were torn between hugging him or pushing him back and fucking him into oblivion.

“Do you have a- what’s the word..” Lafayette licked his lips, eyes wandering the room as he desperately searched for the word he meant to say.

“Condom? Laf, this is my childhood room. You think I’d have condoms here?”

Lafayette raised his eyebrows in doubt, unable to believe what you were trying to imply. You sighed.

“Fine, yes, I do have condoms.” You propped yourself onto your elbows and pushed yourself up from your resting position, causing Lafayette to morph his expression into worry and push you back down.

“No, no! Mon chéri, I am not allowing you to get the condom for your first time. I’ll go get it, where is it?” /my darling/

You huffed a laugh,

“first time? Lafayette you do realize I was pregnant before?”

Lafayette shook his head,

“non. Our first time.” /no/

Your lips parted and were pulled into an ‘o’ shape. Nodding in understanding of his words, you laid back down and lifted an arm to point at the vanity table across the room.

“They’re taped behind the mirror.”

Lafayette got up and moved to reach for the vanity table, or at least behind it where the condoms were taped and hanging.

“Smart and pretty.” You snorted.

“Smart? Lafayette, I work with the President. So do you. You’re my coworker. You just realized I’m smart? Look, come over here, put the condom on and fuck me.”

Lafayette threw a hand up to his forehead, playfully saluting you and climbing atop of you. The moment you’ve been aching for all day was finally coming and you were more than excited. Excited in more than one way, of course. Hearing the package rip and seeing the condom being slipped onto Lafayette aroused you even more, making you ache for your second orgasm to come. Lafayette looked at you, positioning himself at your entrance, awaiting for your approval. You looked him in the eyes and nodded your head, shoving any fears of his size being in you aside, pushing your hips down to meet his thrust. A series of groans and sighs ensued and the feeling of you being stretched stung, but it passed when Lafayette trailing hot kisses down your neck to the valley in between your breasts.

“Vous êtes tellement incroyable, Y/N.” /you are so incredible/

When the wave of pain washed over, you sunk your hips into Lafayette’s, silently telling him to continue to thrust, which he gladly did. His thrusts started off slow, but with a few whispers and words of encouragement, his thrusts were as fast as someone could go. Slamming into you, filling you fully, and almost hitting the spot you desperately wanted him to slam against. Sliding one hand underneath your calf, he pulled it up and laid it on his shoulder, getting another angle against you. His sweat dripped from his body and onto yours, mixing and swirling, before dripping down and onto the bed beneath you. His warm breath hovered over your chest, creating a slight stimulation for your nipples. The second time he pushed into you with the new angle, he hit exactly where you wanted him to. You moaned into his neck and ran your fingers through his hair, pulling it roughly and pulling the hairtie from it.

“L-Lafayette! Oh, fuck, Gilbert.”

He pressed harder, faster, which seemed physically impossible. One of Lafayette’s hands tweaked your nipple, and you nearly spilled, but held it to come at the same time Lafayette did.

“I’m-”

“Sami, chéri!” /same, darling/ He strained.

With a final push, you came undone and Lafayette rode you out through it. Your fingers curled into your palm, slightly scarring it along with your vision that went hazy. Your head spun and your vision was filled with stars, but you were already coming down from your high with heavy panting. Not soon after, he came tumbling after you, muttering in French and writhing above you. With heavy breaths and sighs, he rolled off of you and pulled the filled condom off of himself. Tying a knot in it and disposing of it, he climbed over to you on the bed and laid beside you.

“It’s a little early to say this, ma chéri, but I love you. And I have for years, but I didn’t know how to approach you properly, since you hate me for some reason.”

You smiled, not even having to hesitate to reciprocate his feelings.

“I love you too. I just realized it, too. So you got lucky.” You tiredly mustered up. Your eyes were barely struggling to open,

“oui. I did get lucky. Now stop arguing and go to sleep.”

You didn’t have to argue with him on that one, easily complying and falling into a deep sleep as soon as your eyes fluttered shut.

You woke up to an empty bedside. Immediately you shot up and scanned the room for Lafayette. Your eyes flickered back to the empty side of the bed, noting how the bedsheets were ruffled and the smell of sex still wavered in the room. Did Lafayette leave you? Was it a dream? Questions were flying through your head a mile a minute and you rushed over to your suitcase, pulling on an oversized T-Shirt and panties and rushing downstairs to your living room.

Almost tripping on your own feet on the way down the stairs, you pushed open the door to the living room to see the backside of Lafayette and Valerie, who sat in front of him, presumably chatting. Though the sound of you slamming open the door caught both of their attentions. Valerie smirked but hid it terribly by taking a sip of her coffee as Lafayette smiled at you and pulled you onto his lap.

Valerie removed the cup of coffee from her lips and coughed slightly, swirling her cup and staring at the continents of it.

“Still hate him, huh? That’s not what I heard last night.”

You felt your face catch fire, and before you could argue back and protest, Lafayette clamped a hand around your mouth and grinned at Valerie.

“It was lovely talking to you, but I think mon petit tigre en colère and I need to work some things out in her room.” /my little angry tiger/

Valerie raised a brow and caressed the bump underneath her shirt.

“Don’t let me stop you.”

Tags : @triceracop

738 notes · View notes

jaouinedcan · 7 years

Text

Home is Where the Journey Takes You [NedCan Week: Day 5 - Home/Journey]

I was initially on the fence about Nyotalia, but oh man did I ever fall for Nyo!Netherlands when I read “The Raven’s Call” 👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀 good shit go౦ԁ sHit👌 thats ✔ some good👌👌shit right👌👌there👌👌👌 right✔there ✔✔if i do ƽaү so my self 💯 i say so 💯 thats what im talking about right there right there (chorus: ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ) mMMMMᎷМ💯 👌👌 👌НO0ОଠOOOOOОଠଠOoooᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ👌 👌👌 👌 💯 👌 👀 👀 👀 👌👌Good shit

...So yeah I wanted to spread the love a bit and also give props to paladinquen for the inspiration; I also really liked the name they chose for her so I went with it for this fic, too :)

Anneke de Boer had her whole life mapped out by the time she was ten. She was going to inherit her father's shipping company, manage it from her mother's flower shop, marry the most capable man in sight to take charge of the ships, and have a few children to carry on the family business after she retired. It was a simple and clear-cut plan. She didn't even have to be in love with the man she would marry since it was far more important to find someone with smart business sense. Since her father was one of the most successful men in town, Anneke didn't think she's have much trouble interesting someone, and, indeed, a few young men began making a habit of visiting her and her father once she grew older. It seemed as though everything was going perfectly as planned, and she continued focusing on her education as she left negotiations to her father, trusting him completely as he weeded out the smooth talkers hoping to simply live off her family's wealth like a parasite instead of contributing to it and ensuring that her family name would carry on in prosperity.

It startled her how easily it all came undone once the Netherlands were invaded in 1940 as she teetered on the cusp of adulthood. Her father's ships did not return, his warehouses were commandeered by the invading army, and their home was used as a residence by the men assigned to control the city. Even her suitors disappeared, either having lost interest or their lives through resistance efforts.

Most of their possessions, wealth, and assets gone, they moved into her mother's flower shop. It was an unfathomable difference between having a private room to herself and sharing a small storeroom with her parents and sister, which shrank further yet when one of her father's most trusted business associates came to them under the cover of night with little Luca in hand and a desperate plea, and then she had a little brother, too. The townsfolk closed ranks and spoke of little Luca de Boer as if he had been theirs all along, and when the German soldiers asked them why he had no papers, Anneke feigned humiliation at having a son while still so young herself, saying he was raised as her little brother instead to avoid bringing shame upon her family and harming her marriage prospects. Luca was lucky that his facial features were so miraculously similar to hers, because the soldiers moved on without asking any more questions. They never saw his father again and no one else would come to collect him, but that was fine. Little Luca became so precious to them it wasn't long before he was truly considered a de Boer in every way that counted.

Over the course of the next five years, conditions continued to deteriorate, but nothing was quite as terrible as the final winter of their occupation, when all they had left to eat were the tulip bulbs left in the storeroom and Anneke was forced to get creative. As people succumbed all over the city to hunger and the cold, her family scraped along until liberation, though it came at the price of her father's peace of mind. She knew that he blamed himself for being unable to provide for his family--he apologized often and spent long hours sitting up awake when he should have been sleeping, going so far as to eat smaller and smaller portions of the food she brought home, insisting that she share the rest of it with her siblings. Despite her best efforts, he nearly willed himself into an early grave, bedridden for weeks before the Canadians marched through their streets. While her mother kept a close eye on Emma and Luca, jumping up and down with pieces of chocolate melting all over their hands, she'd dragged her father's moldering mattress all the way to the shop's front door to watch the parade. It was the first time she saw him cry, and it would not be the last, because instead of passing on he slowly recovered over the next few months and became much less concerned with keeping up appearances.

There was one last blow as the reforming Dutch government sought to punish Germans and their supporters, but Anneke endured it with her head held high. Her family wasn't able to return home since it had been destroyed in an allied strike, but she didn't mind that so much as the townsfolk silently staring at the back of her suddenly bared neck as she went about her errands, and so limited her time outside as much as possible. Some of the other girls refused to go outdoors at all, and she could hardly blame them. She, at least, had been fortunate enough to not fall in love. There had been some good men in the German army--she'd had the sense to avoid them, but some of the girls in town were so desperate for companionship in such trying times that they'd been drawn in by any hint of affection.

When they'd been gathered in the street to face their punishment, Anneke, repulsed by the whole spectacle, took the scissors from the official stepping up from behind her and cut her hair herself, refusing to give him the satisfaction of shaming her and the other girls for making the best of a bad situation. Some of the other girls were shocked out of their tears as she threw down the scissors and walked away. When Emma told their mother as she helped her even out the mess she'd made, Anneke caught her smiling in the mirror's reflection, and remembered what pride felt like.

Even so, Anneke disliked the attention and kept to herself, taking care of the flower shop as money began to pour back into the city. It was easier to handle than going out into the street since the majority of her customers were Canadian soldiers, the one group of people with a bit of money to spare for non-essentials, though it was the young Dutch girls capturing their hearts who enjoyed the gifts they bought. It had been the same story over the course of the occupation, though she only sold flowers to the Canadians.

One day, about a week after cutting her hair, a new customer came in. She'd long since learned the names of the others and their beaus along with their favoured arrangements. It was all part of being in business, knowing what the customers wanted and ensuring that she kept the most popular items in supply. This soldier was unfamiliar, though, and she went through a mental checklist of the local girls who were still single, trying to match him with one. He seemed either shy or nervous, pacing among her displays, so the girl may have approached him, first, but all the more assertive girls were already dating, to her knowledge.

Anneke tried to decide whether to leave him be or greet him. It was in good business sense to welcome him to the shop, but if he was skittish--and she couldn't fault anyone who fought the Germans for suffering lingering anxieties--it was possible that surprising him would cause him to leave and she'd lose a possible regular customer. All of a sudden, though, he steeled himself and approached the counter. "Hallo," she said, having the decision made for her.

"Hello," he replied, standing straight like he was facing his commanding officer. "Do you speak English, miss? Au Français?" He had a quiet way about him, but she had no trouble hearing his voice in the otherwise empty shop.

"My English is better." There hadn't been many French nationals in the city willing to let her practice, especially once the occupation began and speaking anything but German in public became increasingly dangerous. "What are you looking for today, sir?"

He seemed relieved; most of the soldiers she'd encountered spoke English, so maybe his French was weak, too. "I'm afraid I don't have the faintest idea," he admitted. "It's for a girl, of course--I don't exactly have family nearby--but I don't know what she would like. Do you have any suggestions, miss?"

"What is her name?" she asked. "I may know her preferences."

"We haven't yet been introduced," he said, and offered his hand. "I'm Matthew Williams."

She was a bit taken off guard by the abrupt change of subject, but shook his hand anyway. "Anneke de Boer."

"On nuh kuh," he repeated carefully, getting a feel for the pronunciation. "Anneke, if you don't mind me asking, what is your favourite flower?"

She heard that question often; men often assumed women liked certain kinds as a collective. Well, he was in luck at the moment, because Anneke had plenty of her favourite in stock at the moment. "For soft feelings of affection, tulips are best. As with roses, the colour of choice for romance would be red. If your intention is to pursue a Dutch girl's heart, even if her English is not good, the meaning of a red tulip is clear."

Matthew smiled, pulling out a handful of coins from one of his pockets. "That sounds perfect; I'd like to buy one, please."

She counted out his change first, then lead him over to the tulips, pulling an attractively shaped one out of the bunch for him. When she held it out for him to take, though, Matthew enclosed her outstretched hand between both of his, instead.

"Anneke," he said, "I hope to see you tomorrow at the town centre." Matthew then released her hand and bowed his head slightly toward her before turning and walking back out into the street, leaving the tulip in her hand. She stared out after him until he stepped out of sight.

She isn't sure how long she stood there, but it couldn't have been long because Emma and Luca tumbled out from behind the counter, obviously having snuck in through the back door. "Anneke you have to go," Emma insisted, bringing her from English back to Dutch. "He's the one who always has sweets!"

Indeed, both Emma and Luca held up hands marked with melted chocolate, but Luca looked a bit unsure. "He wouldn't let me and my friends play in the field by the hospital yesterday, though..."

Emma tugged on his ear. "That was because they haven't finished clearing out the land mines, Luca! We really have to work on your English before you get blown up!"

"I'm not going to get blown up!" Luca protested with a pout, holding one hand over his ear and licking the other one clean of chocolate.

"Listen to what the soldiers tell you, Luca," Anneke said, backing up her sister, "and you will not get blown up. The fields are too dangerous to play in, so you will have to stay in the city for now."

"Okay..." he agreed, though he still looked put out. "I hope they get all the mines soon. I want to go out exploring like the boys in books do. It's not fair."

"It isn't fair," Anneke agreed, helping to placate him by acknowledging the injustice, "but it is better than before and it will continue to get better from here on out. If business keeps up at this pace, I will be able to buy you a football in time for your birthday."

Luca's eyes opened wide as saucers. "Really, Anneke, really?!" At her nod, he launched himself around her legs, burying his face in her skirt. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!"

Anneke ruffled her little brother's hair with her free hand, and looked over to her sister, who thoughtfully licked her fingers. Luca was still a boy, but Emma was well on her way to leaving childhood behind her. Anneke suspected that she even had a good idea how she'd kept them all fed over the last year, though she'd hoped to spare her from the knowledge. "Anneke," she said, eyes locking on the tulip, "I was just kidding about the sweets. You know that, right?"

She wanted to find out who told her and tear a strip from their hide. "I know, Emma."

"Still," she said, lips curling into an encouraging smile, "he's really nice, always asking us how we're doing, and I don't think he even knows we're family so it isn't just to get into your good graces. You should go see him tomorrow. I can look after the shop. Luca can stay here, too, and I can help him with his English in between customers and you can have a day off and have some fun for once."

Anneke considered it. With their father at the Allied hospital and their mother working to help care for him and the rest of the recovering townsfolk and soldiers, Emma and Luca were mostly left to run free, but maybe it was time to allow them a little more responsibility. "If you really mean that," she decided, "then I will go."

She brought the tulip to the back room and left it on the table in a cup with sugar water so it would last longer. When their mother returned from the hospital with their supper, she saw it, took a long breath, slowly exhaled, and once she was done, looked more at ease than she had since the occupation began. Anneke brought up the football idea before she could ask.

The upper ranks of the Allied military were supposed to discourage romantic relations between their soldiers and the civilians they protected, but such regulations were doomed from the start. Young people were drawn to excitement no matter what their elders had to say about it, and while Anneke considered herself an exception to the rule, she still liked to see people around her having fun. In the weeks following liberation, the most exciting thing was to meet the Canadian soldiers, and it was inevitable that romance would result. She profited from it directly, and swiftly heard about the unsanctioned social gatherings in the town centre. Someone would bring a radio and everyone in attendance would drink and dance. The generals could not dictate where the troops spent their off duty hours and forbidding contact with the locals would lower morale, so many of them were in attendance and flirted with the girls who came to see them in open defiance of military policy. It had only been a few weeks and already there were at least a dozen couples dancing, clearly besotted with one another. She wished them well.

Matthew found her quickly. There were not many Dutch girls with short hair willing to walk the streets these days, so she stuck out like a sore thumb. "Anneke," he said, "I'm glad you're here. Would you like to dance?"

It would be easier to talk to him in motion rather than awkwardly standing off to the side, leaving them vulnerable to eavesdroppers. "Yes," she said, raising her arms and inviting him to step toward her, allowing him to take one hand in his, settling the other on her waist while she rested hers on his shoulder. Up close, she realized they were either the same height or very close to it and his eyes were a very peculiar pale blue that seemed to shine violet in the light.

"Thank you for coming, Anneke," he said, once they'd found their rhythm. "I've been wanting to meet you for a while now."

That was the thing she was the most curious about. How did he know her? She avoided the streets as much as possible and yesterday had been his first time visiting the flower shop, so when had he developed an interest in her? Well, all she had to do was ask. "I'm a little confused how I managed to make such a strong impression, given I've been keeping to myself lately."

"Yes, I've noticed," he agreed, smiling faintly. "I'd have thought I would have run into you before now, but I ended up having to ask around to find you again. I'm not surprised you didn't notice me back then in the crowd. I was one of several soldiers assigned to the area to prevent any violence from breaking out." So that was it. She really should have guessed, but that still didn't explain his interest in her. "I have a pretty good idea of what you said back then, but I wanted to know for sure. Would you be willing to translate it into English for me?" He made a good effort of repeating the Dutch phrase that must have echoed in his mind for the past week.

Matthew could have asked almost anyone in town. He could have asked her yesterday, too, if it mattered that much to him, but maybe he had noticed her siblings spying on them. Or maybe going in such a roundabout way was a Canadian custom. Whatever the case, she had no reason to not answer. He'd either like it or hate it and if it disturbed him the worst result would only be her mother's disappointment. "In English, what I said was 'I will not be shamed for the things I have done to protect my family'."

His eyes closed for a moment as his lips curved further upward, likely focusing on matching the words to his memory. "Yeah," he said, softly, "that was the feeling I got." An odd pressure began to form in her chest as he opened his eyes again. "Anneke, I've yet to meet a woman quite so resilient as you. You're amazing; I hope you know that."

Anneke wasn't quite sure how to respond, so she didn't, and continued to dance with him. When she didn't excuse herself as the first song ended and the next one began, Matthew took it as a sign to restart the conversation and they began to introduce more of themselves to each other. As the afternoon wore on and Matthew's remaining off duty hours ran low, they agreed to meet each other again (and again and again...)

It was months later, after her father returned from the hospital, that the other shoe dropped. Her mother had told him all about Matthew and he'd pried what information he could from Anneke when she closed the shop on Sundays to take Emma and Luca to see him. He insisted that she invite him over for dinner at the first opportunity and she indulged him. Matthew had already met her mother and siblings several times and got along with them well, especially as he insisted upon washing the dishes himself after meals, but he was nervous about meeting her father. She gently teased him for worrying about nothing, but that was before she learned what they quietly discussed together when her father pulled him outside to talk over a few cigarettes.

"He's going to propose to you, soon," her father explained after Matthew left, knowing how much she hated surprises. "I think you should accept."

"Father--" she started to protest, but he was having none of it, reaching out to grasp her hand and squeeze it tight.

"Anneke, the sacrifices you have made for this family are far over and beyond what any father would expect from their child. You see me, here, a mere fraction of the man I used to be, unable to provide for you a future that does not involve you toiling away without a passing thought toward your own happiness. I did not even have to meet Matthew to see that you care for him more than you would admit, but I did wish to see him and verify that he felt the same. I'm sure you clearly remember the day that Luca was brought to us, but I never imagined I would understand the depths of his father's desperation and anguish. He could not provide a life for his child, and so brought him here to us. I cannot give you the future you deserve, and so I ask you now to go with Matthew and live your life as you wish. That is all I can do for you, my darling child."

She forced the words out of her throat, tight with emotion. "Father, I cannot leave you and Mother to raise Emma and Luca alone. You still need me here. You can't have me leave you this way. How am I to help from halfway across the world?"

"Emma is nearly as old as you were at the start of the occupation," her father reasoned with her. "It is her turn, now, to step into the responsibility you will be leaving behind. She will spend a few years running the flower shop with your mother and I supporting her in every way we can, and once she reaches your age, she, too, will leave us to pursue her own happiness, and so it will go on with Luca after her. It is my fondest desire as a father to see my children more successful than I was during the height of my career. You know this, Anneke."

"Yes," she was forced to admit, eyes beginning to burn. He'd told her many times over the course of her life.

"You will not be leaving us so soon," he assured her. "The mission is far from over. I expect the soldiers to stay for many months to come, but Matthews tour will expire soon enough and when it does, his government will be all but forced to take his wife back with him. Until then, we will enjoy the time we have left together."

Her father, hunched over his cane, stood shorter than her. It was the first time an embrace between them had her chin resting atop his head rather than vice versa.

The proposal had been simple, the ceremony had been small, and the honeymoon limited to a one night stay at the nicest hotel in the city, but it suited them both just fine. Life continued on as before, but Matthew was unable to stay in her company for longer and longer stretches of time until he was finally relieved of his duties and sent back to Canada. Her own voyage was postponed until much later, all sorts of bureaucratic nonsense to be done as governments worked together to organise the travel details of tens of thousands of war brides. During their separation, they wrote letters often, the latest of which detailed Matthew's efforts to build a house for them on his parents' property and how he planned to prepare several flower beds out front and back just for her. She hadn't even had to ask.

The ship was filled to the brim of women and children borne to them over the course of the war. Most of them boarded in Great Britain because that was where most Canadian servicemen had spent at least a portion of their time in Europe. She got along with the rest of the women well enough, but after a time, she'd gotten weary of the noise in the larger gathering areas and made her way to a more secluded area on the upper deck, where she would spend the majority of her time aboard. Something about the open air and sea breeze just felt right. If people were reborn into new lives after passing on, then she must have been a sailor in a past life.

She found her brother-in-law, Arthur Kirkland, leaning against the railing shortly after the stop in Great Britain. She wasn't surprised to see him in a surly mood--British men were proud, just like most men everywhere, and he didn't take kindly to being teased as a 'male war bride'.

Anneke leaned on the railing beside him, recognising him on sight from the description Matthew had provided. Arthur had met and married her husband's sister back in Canada before Matthew had been deployed, as it had been one of the safest places on Earth for Commonwealth airmen to be trained. She'd been warned about his height but she was still surprised that the British Airforce allowed him to become a pilot.

Arthur glanced over at her and said, "Well, you may as well bloody get it over with," as he retrieved a pack of cigarettes from his jacket, lighting up without another word.

"I'm Anneke," she said instead of teasing him as he expected. "I'm making the assumption that you're Arthur Kirkland?"

He seemed surprised, nearly dropping his cigarette, obviously having refrained from introducing himself to anyone on board as of yet. "And how would you know that?" he asked, suspicious, looking as though he half expected an assassination attempt.

"Because I am Matthew's wife?" she asked in confusion. He was supposed to have known that they would be on the ship together, but clearly, he did not.

"Damn it, Amelia..." Arthur grit out, the pieces falling into place. "The worst part is that I have no idea if she forgot to mention it or did this on purpose just to vex me." He took a long drag of his cigarette, then took it out of his mouth and extended his free hand to shake hers. "Arthur Kirkland at your service. It'll be good to have some sane company on board; can't see Matthew going for anyone without a lick of sense. Should have married him myself."

She was surprised enough by the joke to stifle a laugh, and Arthur allowed himself a satisfied smirk as she replied. "I heard from Matthew that Amelia could be a handful at times. Best of luck to you," she wished him.

"I'll need all of that I can get," he griped, then sighed, casting his gaze over the side of the ship. "God, I miss that woman. Having to go back to England for years without her was almost unbearable, but at least I could be sure she was safe. My family lost everything in the blitz and were scattered to the four winds; I'm sure you have the general idea, being Dutch. You know, I had the honour of flying some of the Operation Manna missions. We had to fly so low I could make out individual people dancing in the street."

So he had placed her accent after all. "I imagine it was quite different, flying a bomber to save lives rather than take them."

He smiled again. "I have to say, it was one of just a handful of reasons why I was glad to have chosen the Royal Air Force over the navy."

Ships were as British as tulips were Dutch. "Why didn't you join the navy, Arthur?" He seemed to be enjoying himself on the sea.

Arthur used an arm to indicate his entire body. "They would have taken one look at me before folding me into a suitcase and loading me onto a submarine with the rest of the sardines. There was no way I was going to risk getting on one of those deathtraps when what I really wanted was, well, this. The fresh open air, the salty spray, the freedom of an endless expanse of ocean... Hah, at least piloting a bomber meant a bit of time here and there on aircraft carriers."

She was glad that he mentioned his size first so she could likely escape his ire if anything unwise slipped out of her mouth. Anneke wasn't used to being around men so much shorter than herself. "I see," she replied. She would have felt claustrophobic, too, crammed into small spaces with strangers, though it hadn't been so bad sharing small spaces with family. "Had I the choice, I may have preferred to spend my life aboard a ship like this one," she said, wistful.

"Why not?" Arthur wondered. "If the lad liked you enough to ship you across the Atlantic, I doubt he'd be opposed to giving the sea life a shot."

It was Anneke's turn to smile. "Unfortunately for my sea legs, I fell in love with flowers first." There was no person on Earth able to get everything they wanted, but she could enjoy this part of the journey while it lasted. That really was all that anyone could do.

Anneke and Arthur got along so well they were nearly siblings as heart by the time they disembarked, having enjoyed the voyage and explored the ship in mutual interest. Unfortunately, the train was another story, the jarring motion of the rails putting them both on edge to the point that they could barely stand the sight of each other after a few hours. Even worse, there were still several hours left to go. The sheer size of Canada was almost unfathomable to both of them; the whole of Europe could easily be set inside with room to spare.

They were very nearly the last few off the train. The moment they stepped out onto the platform they instantly began to feel better, and Anneke's eyes locked onto the western horizon in wonder, having never seen anything quite as spectacular as the mountain range in the distance. "Would you look at that..." she mumbled, amazed.

Arthur was a bit more used to the sight. "I'll bet you haven't seen much more than gently rolling hills before, back in the lowlands."

"No bet," she replied, since he would win hand's down, and dragged her eyes away. "Did we arrive on schedule? I half expected Amelia to tackle you straight out the door from all you've said about her."

He looked down at his pocket watch to check, and therefore completely missed seeing his wife barrel toward him. "Artie!!!" she called out, and he looked up just in time to yell in outrage as she grabbed him around the middle and raised him over her head. Even Amelia had a few inches on the poor man and Anneke held back a chuckle for the sake of his pride already under fire as she began scanning the crowd for her husband, who couldn't be far behind.

"Anneke," he said, approaching from the side, and she turned to see him. He looked just as handsome out of uniform, and just as happy as he had been on their wedding day. After a long moment of ignoring the loud struggle beside them, they stepped forward to meet in the middle of their stride, reaching forward to lay a hand upon each other's face, drawing themselves in for a long awaited kiss that slowly transformed into a full embrace as they sought to pull each other even closer, their heads tucking into the curves of the other's neck, taking in the familiar scents they'd missed so much. "How was the trip?"

"Exhausting," she complained without a hint of exasperation. "Please tell me the farm is a stone's throw away at the most."

"I'm so sorry," Matthew replied, contrite. "There's still a few hours of driving to get there." Anneke moaned in horror directly against his shoulder, and he tried to comfort her. "I'll drive as smoothly as possible so you and Arthur can sleep, I promise."

"I'm in the back seat with Artie!" Amelia declared.

"You'll be up front with me so Arthur can rest," Matthew overruled.

Amelia howled in indignity. "Mattie, I haven't seen Artie in years! You can't do this to me!"

Matthew pulled back from Anneke and turned them both to face his sister and Arthur, who had freed himself from his wife's manhandling but looked nearly ready to give up the ghost. "Anneke, this is my twin sister, Amelia. Amelia, this is Anneke, my wife."

"Don't just ignore me, Mattie!" Amelia complained, but shook Anneke's hand anyway. "Hey there, Annie, I'm sure we'll get along great as long as you aren't half the spoilsport my brother is."

"Oh, for God's sake, Amelia," Arthur said, finally at his limit. "Calm down a tad, would you? Let me rest a bit now and I'll give you my full attention once we arrive."

"You have a deal, mister!" Amelia accepted, then leaned in close to Anneke. "I'm not gonna let him leave my room for a week."

"Amelia!" Matthew and Arthur protested in sync. Her sister-in-law wasn't very good at whispering.

Matthew and Amelia's parents were good, hardworking people; farmers born from farmers. They grew crops rather than flowers, but they were interested in her expertise. In time, they might be willing to allow her a portion of the land to grow a few varieties to sell. It would be wonderful if she could open up a flower shop one day. She'd been told the winters could be brutal, though, so she'd have to look into building a sturdy greenhouse. Before that, though, there was something else far more important to put their savings towards.

She was taken for a tour of their home-in-progress. Until it was finished, they would be using Matthew's old room in his parents' house, but that was fine--it wasn't much smaller than the storeroom back in the Netherlands and didn't have to double as a kitchen. The new house, on the other hand, would be much bigger--possibly even bigger than the house she'd grown up in. They would have enough room for both them and Amelia and Arthur to stay until they settled upon their own plan. There were a few possibilities between moving south to America or living full time at an air base, but the only thing they knew for sure as of yet was that they had no interest in taking over the farm, which was perfect, because she and Matthew would be happy to have it.

"Once Amelia and Arthur move on, your parents can move into the secondary master bedroom--theirs and ours will be on opposite ends of the house for as much privacy as possible. The kids' bedrooms will all be upstairs; Emma and Luca will have great big windows to see all the way out into the field and plenty of space they can use to store whatever catches their fancy in town. There'll be a few extra rooms we can use for storage at first; we can clear them out once we decide on when to start trying for kids of our own, but until they're big enough for their own space, we'll have the nursery in the room right next to ours. I've plotted out the gardens, too, you see there? It'll be great to see tulips popping up everywhere in spring like they did in the Netherlands."

If there was no such thing as perfection, this was pretty damn close. Anneke looked over the properly with a smile, squeezing Matthew's hand tight as she turned to regard the vast open field untouched by conventional warfare. "Luca is going to love it here."

[Notes: I hope I did nyo!Netherlands justice here; I waffled on whether or not to write her smoking, but in the end, I decided the timing didn’t work; tobacco would have been rationed around the time she would be considered old enough to smoke and she would have spent what little money she had on necessities instead. Once she gets her family all together again, she might get into the habit, but not before.

I felt a little odd about mostly putting the romance on the backburner, but I felt it was more important to visit all aspects of Anneke’s life, journey, and development. I might write a few drabbles in the future set in this AU to help flesh out their love story a bit more.]

#nedcanweek2017 #nedcan #aph netherlands #aph canada #aph luxembourg #aph belgium #aph england #aph america #usuk

5 notes · View notes