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aimless-imagines-for-fun · 3 years

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Strawberries and Peaches

Pairing :: Eric Northman x fem!Reader

Warnings :: Angst, Smut, Mentions of Blood, Bloodplay(?idk he’s a vampire so-?), Death

Word Count :: 3,588

Summary :: Eric thought he had lost you centuries ago, and yet here you were again.

A/N :: Takes place between season 3 and 4

When you walked into Fangtasia a few nights ago, with an old acquaintance of Eric’s, he thought he had seen a ghost. The last time he laid eyes on you, you were crying. The last time he held you, you were dying.

Nearly several hundred years ago, Eric first met you, a humble girl in a recluse village. Your people warned you not to venture off into the woods, and more importantly, to never speak to the people who walk only during the night. You were kind-hearted though, and so, when a blond man walked up to you after nightfall, begging for help, you couldn’t say no. You more than happily helped him and welcomed him into your home. You treated and cared for him as if he were your own family.

Eric had never received such kindness from a human before, whether they knew he was a vampire or not. You always gave him a smile, even when people began to warn you about him. He found himself drawn to you. Your scent was like none he had ever smelled before. Strawberries and peaches, with a dash of rose petals. Whenever your fingers touched him, he swore he felt his freezing body warm-up. For the first time in his life, he found himself falling for someone, and slowly, you did too.

Perhaps your feeling for him clouded your judgment, or perhaps you truly didn’t care. When Eric had confessed to being a vampire, you hugged him and told him you’d love him no matter what. Godric tried to warn Eric that starting a life with a human would be dangerous, especially since you weren’t ready to be turned. The thought of being immortal horrified you, however, with Eric it didn’t seem that scary. Still, you weren’t ready to say goodbye to the sun. All he could do was support your decision and wait. His compassion is what killed you, and he blamed himself every day for it until eventually, you were a fleeting thought in the back of his mind.

There were times Eric had to leave because Godric needed him. Unfortunately, on one of these trips your village, though recluse, was not impossible to find. You were attacked right before sunset by a neighboring kingdom that had recently declared war against yours. Men, women, and children died, homes were burned to the ground. Your home was spared. You were not. Eric returned shortly after the attackers had left, finding the ruins of your village. If his heart was still beating, it surely would’ve stopped. He found you in your home, laying in a pool of blood on the floor with a large slash across your torso. Your breath had stopped long ago, and your warm touch now is just as freezing as Eric’s. He fell to his knees, holding your limp body in his arms. He could see tear stains on your face, and he couldn’t help but wonder what your last thoughts were. Were you waiting for him? Crying for him to return? He’d never know, but he’d make sure he’d have revenge for your death.

Time went on, and Eric began to grow unsympathetic. He never allowed himself to get close to another human again as he did with you. He had the occasional flings, and there was Pam. She was a companion and received a different sort of love from him than you did. There was also Sookie, whom he felt drawn to, but he never felt the love for her he felt for you. What drew him to Sookie was the fact she was a fae. What drew him to you, he never quite understood.

You may have become a distant memory, but he’d always remember your sweet scent. Strawberries, peaches, and a hint of rose petals. He hadn’t smelled that sweet aroma since the day you died, that was until a few nights ago.

You walked in with Bishop, an old acquaintance of Eric who knew him long enough to know you. You wore a pastel yellow sundress, not knowing you’d be going to the vampire bar. All Bishop told you was to wear something nice. Hell, the man didn’t even tell you he was taking you to Louisiana. You lived on the west coast in a small apartment as a writer. Ever since The Great Revelation, you had been attempting to speak to as many vampires as you could so you could share their stories with the world. Most were hostile or rude when you questioned them, and the few that would agree had either odd demands you’d have to refuse or were clearly lying. Then, one night, a vampire showed up at your front door, claiming he knew a vampire over a thousand years old who’d tell you his story. Shortly after, you found yourself on a plane and now in a bar called “Fangtasia”.

Bishop told you to wait near the front, which you gladly did, not wanting to walk further in. You stood out like a sore thumb, and all you could do to avoid the gazes you were receiving was look at the wall of shirts they sold.

Bishop walked up to Eric’s throne, a small smile on his face. “Hello, Sheriff-”

“Stop,” Eric said in a cold tone. He narrowed his gaze on the man. “What do you want?”

Eric and Bishop had a complicated relationship. They had known each other for centuries, but they weren’t friends. Their paths only really crossed when one needed something from the other, typically Bishop needing something from Eric.

“Have you always been this hostile?” Bishop let out a sigh. “I don’t want or need, anything Eric. I came to bring you a gift.” Eric was silent, letting the man continue. “I know you smell her, and yes, it really is her…”

Eric’s gaze moved over to you, standing by, looking at the shirts. You looked exactly the same, besides your (h/c) hair being a bit different now. His eyes softened for a moment, watching you giggle at some of the little phrases they put on the shirts.

“...or at least, another version of her.”

Eric’s focus snapped back to Bishop. “What?”

“She’s one in a billion.”

Eric knew some people could be reincarnated, but thought the chances of that were slim to none. Godric had only encountered two reincarnated people in his life, and Eric none, until now that is.

Without another word, Eric approached you. You were so into the silly phrases on the shirt, you nearly missed the tall man approaching you. You turned to face him, a large grin on your face as you extended your hand.

“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Northman. I’m (f/n) (l/n), but please, call me (y/n).”

“Only if you call me Eric.”

Looking down at you, the corner of his lips were curved upward. Reaching out to shake your hand, he felt the same warmth he felt centuries ago when your hands touched. You tilted your head touching his hand. Yes, it was cold, but, you felt an odd sense of safety holding his hand, even if it was for a brief moment.

You let out a small chuckle, shaking your head lightly. “I’m sorry, but, do I know you?” You couldn’t help but be forward. You’ve never felt this sense of security before.

Eric, for once, didn’t know how to reply. Technically he knew you, a different you though.

“Possibly, I’ve been around for a long time. There’s a chance our paths have crossed before.”

You hummed in response, before continuing on to tell him about why you had traveled all the way to Shreveport, Louisiana. Eric absentmindedly listened to what you had to say. In all honesty, he was just happy to see you again and agreed to any pitch you gave him. As long as he could be close to you again. Even though Bishop was constantly telling you on your journey here that Eric would say yes, you were still surprised and grateful when he agreed. The agreement was for you to come to Fangtasia each night, sit next to Eric, and he’d tell you his story.

He was one to come up with the arrangement, yet it seemed he cared little about telling you his story. You went several nights in a row, standing out due to your brightly colored clothes each day. Everyone stared at you as you sat next to Eric, except for one of the employees named Pam. She didn’t seem to care a single bit about who you were. The night usually went one of two ways. One: You’d ask Eric a question, he’d give a vague answer, and then quickly shift the focus on you. Two: Men and Women would spend the entire night trying to grab just a sliver of Eric’s attention before he snapped his fingers and Pam came to pry them away. There was one night he almost kicked a man who made a comment as to why you were so special you got to sit next to him, Eric held back. He didn’t want to make you more uncomfortable than you already were in the bar.

Tonight was the second kind of night. So far, the blond had already rejected two women and one man. You couldn’t wrap your head around why people would throw themselves at him. Admittedly, you found Eric handsome, and always wanted to see him smile for some odd reason. Still, you’d never throw yourself at him like these people would. At least, you’d hope you never would.

You were usually patient, however, it had been nearly a week and you still hadn’t gotten a thing from him. You were beginning to grow impatient with him, not to mention tired from your daily schedule changing so much thanks to him as well.

“Hey, Eric, I think I’m gonna head back to my hotel early tonight,” You told him as you began to pack up your things.

Eric looked at you with confusion, brows furrowed. “Why? What’s wrong?” He didn’t want to show it, but he was worried something was wrong.

You stood up, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “Nothing, I’m just tired is all. Have a nice night.”

Walking out of Fangtasia, for the first time ever, you saw a large group of Christian protesters standing a short distance away from the entrance. Usually, you showed up right before sunset and left at the crack of dawn, so you had never seen such a large group. You wouldn’t have cared much if not for the fact that you had to go through the crowd to get to your car. They shouted at you as you walked through, calling you a “fang-banger” and “vampire cunt”. You ignored them, wondering why they had nothing better to do than this. Tonight was one of their rowdier nights though, and you were shoved to the ground. You scraped your hands and knees, tearing the white tights you wore under your blue dress. You began to pick yourself up, and that’s when you noticed the crowd had gone silent. You looked up, curious, seeing Eric now standing right at the front of the crowd, Pam right beside him. He was giving them a murderous glare, daring for one of them to do something so he could rip them apart.

Once you stood up, Eric turned to you, walking over in a few steps. He grabbed both your wrists, eyebrows knitted together. “You’re bleeding,” He muttered, looking down at the scrapes on your palms. Letting go of one of your wrists, he led you back inside. “Pam, deal with these people,” He ordered right before he walked in.

Briskly, he walked you back to his office, not wanting any of the other vampires to get a whiff of your blood for too long. You had never been in the back, and you didn’t get a very good look around with Eric rushing you into his office.

“Sit on the desk,” He told you as he began rummaging through one of his cabinets for the first aid kit. It was rarely used.

You moved a few of the items on his desk aside so you could hop on. Silently, you looked around the office, waiting for Eric to walk over. After a moment, he found the kit and began cleaning one of your hands. His cold hand held your warm one gently, almost as if he were afraid he’d break you if he wasn’t soft with you. You were closer to him now than ever before, with only a foot of distance between you. You winced when he cleaned the wounds, but as he bandaged them up, you couldn’t help staring at him. You took note of his perfect, still pale, complexion, his blue eyes, and his slightly tense jaw. Little did you know, it was causing a great deal of pain for Eric to hold back and not start licking the blood that came out of your wounds. Your scent was much stronger than before and his mouth was watering, remembering the sweet taste of your blood.

When he was done with your hands, he paused for a moment, looking down at your knees. “I need you to take off your tights.”

You were confused, until you looked down, seeing your ripped tights. “O-oh, right,” you stuttered.

You hopped off and took your little blue heels with ease. Then, you reached up the skirt of your dress and pulled down your now ruined tights, tossing them right next to your bag. As you did, you could feel his intense stare on you, causing your cheeks to heat up. You were about to sit back on his desk until he told you to stand instead. He knelt down to clean the scrapes on your knees, one hand holding the back of your leg. Quickly, he wrapped it up and moved on to clean your other knee.

Now, you don’t know why you did, but without thinking you questioned Eric. “Why’d you lie and agree to tell me your story?” You covered your mouth right after you asked him. Your mother always did tell you that you had the problem of speaking without thinking.

Caught off guard, Eric looked up at you with wide eyes. “Excuse me?”

Realizing you couldn’t take back what you said, you continue on. “You haven’t told me a thing about you. Why’d you lie to me about telling me your story?”

Without hesitation, Eric replied, “Because I wanted you to be with me again.”

Now you were caught off guard.

“You’re almost an exact replica of someone I cared about and lost a long time ago. You don’t have her memories, but besides that, you’re exactly the same,” He began to explain, “You look like her.” His grip on your leg tightened, “You feel like her.” He moved his head closer to the now clean wound on your knee and took a sniff, “You smell like her.” He licked the fresh blood that was coming out, “You taste like her.”

Eric watched you squirm a bit under his hold, a faint blush spreading across your face. You gripped the sides of your dress, your brows turned downwards and your lips formed a small frown. You thought he was teasing you.

He let out a small chuckle. “You even act the same as her.” He licked your leg again, your breath now shaking.

“S-stop it,” You barely managed to whisper.

You could hear the sadness in his voice and it made your heart hurt. Your eyes began to sting. Your chest grew tight. You couldn’t understand why you felt so sad for him, even though you barely knew him. Finally, he let go of your leg and stood up, towering over you.

“What if I don’t want to stop?” Eric asked you, eyes peering down into yours.

Your heart was racing now, though you weren’t sure whether it was from fear or perhaps excitement. You knew one thing for sure, with him staring so intensely at you, you could feel a heat beginning to rise up inside you.

He brought a hand up to the side of your face, stroking his thumb gently across your cheek. Slowly, he began to lean his head down.

With his lips brushing against yours he asked you, “What would you do?” right before pressing a soft kiss onto you.

You leaned into the kiss, closing your eyes and gripping his black shirt. As it continued on, the kiss began to grow rough, Eric nibbling your bottom lip with his fangs. His hand on your cheek was gentle, but the hand that held your hip was tight. Feeling a small pinch on your lip, you let out a gasp knowing full well he had bitten your lip. It was enough for Eric to shove his tongue in your mouth though, and both of you tasted your metallic blood.

His hand on your hip moved lower, gripping your thigh. He pushed you back against the desk, lifting you so you’d be seated again. He pulled away from your mouth, moving down to your neck. He licked a few spots, before finally biting down and piercing your skin. You let out a soft cry, hands moving to wrap around his neck. You gripped his hair, feeling him suck the blood out of you. You bit your lip, trying to hold back your whimpers.

When he pulled away, you felt light-headed now. Your eyes fluttered open, feeling his hands come off only to swiftly pull your dress off. After pulling off your bra as well, his hands began to roam around your body. You shivered against his touch, your skin feeling like it was burning against his cold hands. He grabbed one of your breasts, squeezing it lightly before leaning down and biting the upper part of it. This time, he sucked to leave a mark rather than to drink your blood.

A hand of his moved down, in between your inner thighs. He began to rub your clit with his thumb roughly, a moan finally escaping you. He pulled away from your breast, a bloody smirk on his face.

“Well how about that, you sound just like her too,” He teased.

“Sh-shut up,” You stammered.

You moved your hands to pull at the bottom of his shirt. He pulled away his thumb, allowing you to take off his shirt, and see the bulge that had formed in his pants.

He leaned down to your ear and whispered, “I want you to get yourself ready for me love.” He then grabbed your hand, leading it down to your panties.

Once he let go, you began to rub yourself through the thin fabric, feeling how wet you already were. You began to rub harder and faster, watching him undo his pants. His briefs went down with his pants, allowing his hardened dick to spring free. With one hand he grabbed the hand you were using to rub yourself out, and with the other, he ripped off your panties, causing you to yelp. Then, he guided you to put a finger of your own inside you, along with his.

“Eric,” You whimpered.

He continued to guide you, moving your hands together in and out of you at a slow pace. “Shhh, I need to get that tight little cunt of yours ready for me. Okay?”

He stuck another of his own fingers inside of you and all you could do was nod your head quickly. He took out your hand and began to pick up his pace with his fingers. With your moans, and grip on his shoulders, he could tell you were getting closer, begging for a release as you arched your back.

“Eric, please,” you mewled out.

“Please what?”

“I need you, all of you,” you begged.

He pulled out his fingered and positioned himself right at your entrance. “Alright, but only because you begged,” He said with a wink.

Slowly, he began to push himself inside of you, cursing under his breath at how tight you were. Your nails dug into his shoulders and you buried your face in the crook of his neck. Eric gave you a moment to adjust to his size before he began to move, thrusting at an unbearably slow pace for you. You attempted to move your own hips, wrapping your legs around him. Knowing you needed more, Eric began to pick up the pace almost instantly, causing you to cry out loud. He slammed his mouth against yours, muffling your cries and your moans.

He was finally giving you what you needed, and you knew you’d be undone soon. You almost cried when he pulled out of you completely, until he slammed back into. You let out a loud scream and Eric groaned, feeling you tighten. He continued to pound into you, going harder each time until your body tensed up and you moaned his name loudly, finally hitting your high. Growing close himself, Eric’s thrust had a rhythm before, but now they grew ragged. Soon after you, he hit his climax, cumming inside of you. He proceeded to ride himself out in you and your breath slowly began going back to normal.

Pulling out of you, he placed a quick kiss on your lips. “I hope you know I’m never letting you go now,” He muttered.

“That’s fine because there’s no one else I want to go with.”

#eric northman #true blood #true blood eric #erik northman #alexander skarsgard #eric northman x reader #eric northman smut #eric northman angst #eric northman imagine #eric northman fanfic #eric northman fanfiction

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animereaderinsertwriter · 3 years

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Cupbearer (Eren/Reader)

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV (in progress)

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (im watching you, if you see this, begone!), vampire!eren, hunter!reader, fem!reader, smut, some amount of predator/prey dynamics but only kinda?? there is also a significant age difference but only cos eren is immortal and all that jazz. we're all adults here. there will eventually be smut.... and do i really need to say that there's gonna be blood in a vampire fic?

Description: A story of falling in love in 4 parts.

Eren is a bad man (well, a bad Creature) who has done bad things. When he meets the great-great-great granddaughter of one of his former friends in his favorite blood bar, however, he thinks it might not matter so much what happened in the past, so long as he can make the future something worth living to see.

Ao3 link here

Part I

A lamb in a den of lions, he thought, watching the newcomer as she settled in, ordering whiskey neat. A fool, for sure.

A fool she may be, perhaps, but even fools could be dangerous. Eren had known that the young woman was a Hunter from the moment she entered the bar (everyone else had, too) but something told Eren that she was hardly cut from the same cloth as the average Bane of Creatures. There was something in her movements— a predatory grace in her stride, perhaps, or a stiff, straight posture, with muscles tensed and ready for action— that betrayed her power to him; but for all that, she really was lovely, and the image of a rabbit caught in a patch of bramble came to mind whenever he looked at her.

Sitting in a corner, drinking his B-neg, he watched the woman as she sipped her drink, checking over her shoulder now and then. She was wary— as anyone with good sense would be— but she didn't appear frightened, and Eren's curiosity was piqued. It wasn't every day that someone so bold happened across his path, and it became harder and harder for him to resist the urge to approach her.

Eventually, Eren gave in to his curiosity— he never had been very good at or even particularly fond of restraining himself— and when he came silently up behind her, the newcomer didn't even notice his presence until he murmured a greeting close to her ear.

"Hello, little love," he said, and she startled in her seat. "Are you lost?"

She turned around then, her eyes big and bright in the dim lighting of the bar, but by the time she managed to look at the spot where Eren would have been, he was already seated on the barstool beside her. Eventually, though, her eyes found his, and when their gazes met, Eren was amused to find no fear in her visage.

"Far from it," she told him, turning her body towards him. "I am precisely where I mean to be."

Eren blinked, nonplussed.

"Curious," he said, leaning forward so that she could see the sharpness of his teeth as he spoke. "Do you fancy yourself a wolf among sheep, little Hunter? Did you really not think we would know you for what you are the moment you crossed the threshold of this place?"

Any normal, human ear would have missed the way her heart leapt in her chest, but Eren missed nothing. The fear he had hoped to inspire in her was present after all, but her face never moved from its impenetrable mask— an affectation that was somehow both soft and steely at once.

"That's not what I'm here for," she told him, widening the distance between her knees as she readjusted on the stool. "I'm here to discover the truth."

The truth— what an odd notion!— and yet Eren sensed no lie in her.

"You're a strange one," he told her, but forced himself to relax his posture to appear lazy, almost drunk. "Most Hunters— even ones so pretty as yourself— shoot first and worry about the truth later. What's your name?"

Her nose crinkled. "It's polite to give your own first."

Sharp, he thought, watching her closely. Names have power.

"Eren Jaeger."

"Eren Jaeger," she echoed, then extended her hand. "My name is (Y/N)."

That name sounded familiar to Eren— and though most names did after living a few centuries, this one seemed to hit closer to home. He knew that name, and knew it well…

"What's your surname?"

(Y/N)'s eyes flashed with an emotion that Eren didn't catch.

"Kirschtein," she replied, averting her eyes. "I'm Jean Kirschtein's great-great-great granddaughter."

And damn if Eren didn't want to laugh. Perhaps his nosiness into the posterity of his old acquaintances really was as bad of an idea as Armin always seemed to imply.

"I see," he said, and he truly, truly did. "Then you know who I am— what I am— and what I've done."

More than that, if she truly did know who he was, it was unlikely that she had come without a specific purpose in mind.

(Y/N) nodded, confirming his suspicions. "I was digging around in my family history and— well— I read what my grandfather wrote, and I just— I wanted the truth."

So wide-eyed, so innocent— so alive. Eren could see now her resemblance to Jean; if they were not similar in looks, she had his sharpness, his humanness… and, as he always had Jean, Eren envied her for it.

"If that's the case, then I'm sure you know that you don't get something for nothing," he told her, sipping his drink just to watch the expression on her face as he let the warm blood slide down his throat. "And that dealings with me can be dangerous."

"Jean Kirschtein loved you, Eren Jaeger," she told him fiercely and with such conviction that Eren nearly choked on his drink. "To take such a tone with me, to threaten me, the last living remnant of him, is the most disrespectful thing I've ever heard."

Eren was about to say that he didn't owe her, Jean Kirschtein, or anyone else any sort of respect, but she plowed on, unwilling to let him say his piece.

"You broke his heart a million ways by doing what you did, but— but he was your friend through all of it, no matter what side each of you were on," (Y/N) continued, passion aflame in her eyes. "I can't even imagine what inspired such a love, such a loyalty from him that he would forgive you for the horrors you caused. That's what I'm here to find out— what you have that a man such as him would find you redeemable."

The reproof in her words stung, but Eren was too old to argue. She could never understand what it was like back then.

"I understand more than you think," she snapped, and Eren actually flinched. "I understand that you hurt the woman my grandfather loved immeasurably, and that he forgave you for that even though he never even particularly liked you. I understand that you were ready to sacrifice the world for that selfsame woman, for Jean, and for all the others. I understand that you're a monster who loved and was loved back, but I want to know why."

How? Eren thought, shaken.

How had she known his thoughts? It was as though she had seen straight through to his innermost being.

Without speaking, she answered his question. (Y/N) took a hand and rolled up her left sleeve, presenting to him a scarred marking in the shape of a pentagram.

"My grandfather didn't settle down with just anyone," she told him, holding his gaze. "I come from a line of powerful witches, all of whom possessed strong claircognizance. Paired with my nature as an empath, you can assume I know what you're going to say before you say it."

Eren hummed, trying to appear less perturbed than he was.

"And yet you hunt Creatures for a living; strange, since you're practically one of us yourself."

(Y/N) glowered. "I hunt monsters that prey on my people, not Creatures. No innocent has died by my hand."

The unlike you went unsaid, but that didn't mean that Eren didn't hear it anyway.

"Don't get high-and-mighty with me, girl," he told her roughly. "Knowing is one thing, but experiencing what we experienced is another."

"I'm not here to judge you," she replied. "I told you, I'm here for truth, nothing more."

"And I told you that the truth doesn't come for free," he told her darkly. "You must give me something in return."

(Y/N) set her jaw.

"What would you have of me?"

It was a mean, base request. Eren was wicked for even thinking it, and vile for wanting it— but looking at the great-to-however-many-degrees granddaughter of a good man that he had once known, seeing the vitality that brought a flush to her cheeks and thumping to her heart, he knew he couldn't pass up this golden opportunity.

It had been so long since he'd had a Companion.

"Become my cupbearer for six moons," he told her, crossing his arms. "Starting with tonight, the moon becomes new; let me drink from you until six of these have passed, and along the way, you will learn what you want to know."

(Y/N) eyed him warily.

"Can you assure my physical safety?"

Eren grunted, almost amused. It was a bit late to be worrying about that.

"I think you know that I can."

"And will you let me continue in my duties as a Hunter?" she asked, her eyes searching his own as if she would find the answer to her question there inside the same eyes he'd had since he was nineteen. "Completely uninhibited?"

"That depends. Will you kill Creatures in the discharge of your duties?"

(Y/N) made a face. Eren had forgotten how expressive mortals could be, but he found that being reminded was not altogether unpleasant.

"You know I will," she replied, "But you have my word that any killing won't be unprovoked."

Eren supposed it was as close to a compromise as he could expect.

"As you wish it, so shall it be."

He turned away, signaling to the bartender for another drink, but a lightning-fast hand shot out to grab his wrist.

"Swear it," she demanded. "I need us to be Bound by it."

The meanness in Eren finally won over. He reached forward, grabbing (Y/N) by the neck, and the silver rings on her fingers burned him as she pulled at his hand to try and restore her breath. Eyes from all around the room were on the two of them— had been, since the very beginning— but it was only once the Hunter before him began to look appropriately humbled that he withdrew.

"Do not touch me without my permission," he said, "And I will return the favor."

(Y/N) looked at him then, but there was still no fear in her eyes. Anger, yes, but no fear.

She must be mad, or foolish one, he thought, considering her for a moment. I always have been partial to mad fools in general, but…

Something about her seemed different, and Eren didn't know what to do other than accept what she had to offer. Heavens knew he was getting the better end of the deal anyway.

"Swear it," she repeated, this time more quietly. "Give your word, and I will be your cupbearer."

Eren brought his hand up and unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt. At his will, the nail tip of his forefinger sharpened, hardening into a point; he used it to draw an 'X' onto the skin just over where his heart rested inside his chest, cold and dead. Blood welled into the cut— precious little, compared to that of a human, but still enough to run down his chest in smudges— and it was by that blood that he swore. He spoke the terms of their agreement, then took the blood from his wound with the pad of his finger and marked the same spot over (Y/N)'s own heart.

"Satisfied?" he asked, their faces almost touching, and (Y/N) shivered.

"Yes."

Her warm, living breath fanned over his face with her reply, and Eren took the moment to close his eyes and appreciate the scent and sensation of it.

"You may think you're satisfied," he told her, pulling away, "But you don't know the meaning of the word."

She eyed him warily, but before she could speak, he added, "In six months' time, I'll ask you the same question, and it is then that you will truly know what it is to feel satisfied— satiated in every way."

"As you say."

It was a throwaway comment, nothing more than a dismissal, really; but Eren felt like it was the start of something truly remarkable.

#aot x y/n #aot x reader #aot #aot fanfiction #eren x reader #vampire!eren jaeger #aot smut

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full-of-jams · 4 years

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Tangsuyuk Love

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: College student Jungkook passes cute notes with a customer who always orders take-out tangsuyuk at his part-time job. Meanwhile he’s trying not to miserably fail his Math class, while hiding his ever-growing crush on you.

Genre: college au, f2l, fluff, smut, one shot, did I mention FLUFF?

Warnings: mild swearing, sexual content, hold your heart palpitations!

Word Count: 11.5k

A/N: I wanted to write something light and sweet before I continued with Good Riddance. It will be easy, she said. It will be fun, she said. It will be quick, she said. Ha. haha. ha. ha. Ignore my pain. Enjoy!

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[09/04 18:34 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY] 1 Tangsuyuk (large) 1 Jjamppong 2 Kimchi Mandu ---------------- Note: Without pineapple! Please make the jjamppong extra spicy, my boyfriend just broke up with me T-T

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (large) -- 20,000 1 Jjamppong -- 5,000 2 Kimchi Mandu -- 6,000 1 Soju -- 0

Total: 31,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: Service! Nothing’s better than the fresh taste of soju to lighten a heavy heart :) Cheer up LatteIsHorse-Nim!

Paper Note: JK-nim, thanks for the soju. It sweetened my bitter night. This is Tokki, please give him a loving new home! TT-TT

Jungkook was fucking terrified of you. If it weren’t for the fact that he was close to failing Statistical Analysis, he would’ve considered faking a stomach flu and making a beeline straight out of the library.

“If you have a box containing 3 white, 4 red and 5 black balls what is the probability that you will draw a white ball on your first draw and a black ball on your second draw?” you asked again through gritted teeth.

You looked up at Jungkook and were met by an empty stare. Usually you enjoyed tutoring your fellow classmate. He was a smart and funny guy, maybe a bit awkward at times, but always trying his best. Today every little thing grated on your nerves. It took you every ounce of energy to get out of bed and look like a presentable human being this morning. You really didn’t want to sit here for another hour if the boy was just going to stare at you like a petrified statue. “It’s really not that difficult. You just have to apply conditional probability.”

Jungkook let out a frustrated huff and pulled at his hair, “I really don’t know, this doesn’t make any sense! Why do I even need this stuff for my major? Who cares if I pull out a white ball or a black ball first? It’s not like I’m planning on becoming Houdini!”

Sometimes you pitied him, but who on Earth had an irrational fear of Gauss distributions and probability?! They were beautiful, harmless, abstract concepts of life. Your sympathy was muffled by a thrumming headache. All the late-night crying already had you chugging water and slapping ice cubes on your face at breakfast. Right now you just wanted to go home, change into your pjs, order some tangsuyuk and binge watch Boys Over Flowers. The cringy acting and Go Jun Pyo’s luscious locks were the only things that made your miserable life feel a bit less pathetic at the moment. “Jungkook, we went over this last time. Just apply the damn formula,” you snapped.

“Why are you being so scary today?” he asked wide-eyed and apprehensive.

You took a deep breath, rubbed your temples and tried to calm your inner turmoil. It wasn’t his fault; you were just in a really shitty mood. “I’m sorry. It’s not my day today. Is it okay if we rain check? I promise I’ll make it up to you next week.”

Jungkook wasn’t used to seeing you this distraught. He wracked his brain on how to lift your spirit. “Hey, do you want to hear this math joke my friend Jin told me the other day? What do you call an angle that is adorable?”

The boy scrunched his nose adorably and waited for your response. He was really handsome, you noticed that back when you two first met. Back then you just didn’t have a reason to care. Back then you still had a boyfriend.

“I don’t know, tell me,” you answered.

“Acute angle!” he said with a timid smile.

Despite your foul mood you had to snort at his joke.

Jungkook’s smile grew wider. It wasn’t a full laugh, but at least your frown disappeared. He discovered early on that you had a soft spot for bad math puns.

Although he absolutely detested Statistical Analysis, he has come to enjoy your study sessions over the past couple of weeks. The TA of his class, Namjoon, was a close friend of Jungkook’s and a sunbae of yours. Once he discovered that his favorite dongsaeng was abysmal at reading a z-score table, he immediately referred him to you.

At first Jungkook was very reluctant to accept any help. He was a mechanical engineer for fuck’s sake! He calculated distributed load across uneven surfaces and directional derivatives all the time!

His inner protests died down during your first session when you unwittingly asked him if he was constipated while he tried to calculate the standard deviation. During your second session he noticed you liked to doodle small geometric and fractal comics on his work sheets whenever he was solving a problem.

‘What did the triangle say to the circle?’ ‘You’re pointless!’

By the time your third session rolled around he still hated statistics, but it was too late and he’d developed a hopeless crush on you. Your monologues about dead mathematicians and the beauty of an infinite series were oddly captivating. He didn’t think he’d ever met anyone who was so passionate and animated about anything in all his life.

“Is everything okay?” Jungkook asked carefully. You seemed tired and a bit wary. “I-I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel like it. Sorry, it’s none of my business,” he immediately added.

You smiled at his flustered state. Jungkook’s heart stumbled when your smile turned sad and you said, “No not really, but I’m sure I’ll be fine sooner or later.”

[13/04 19:12 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

1 Tangsuyuk (large) 1 Jjajangmyeon 1 Jjajangbap ---------------- Note: JK-nim! Omg your tangsuyuk is the best! I could drown in that sauce! How is Tokki doing?

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (large) -- 20,000 1 Jjajangmyeon -- 4,500 1 Jjajangbap -- 5,500

Total: 30,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: LatteIsHorse-nim! Little Tokki is doing well and bravely guarding our store! Don’t drown, but here’s some extra sauce for you to enjoy. I asked for it to be without pineapple. Hwaiting!

“Yah! Why does it smell like rotten take-out in your bedroom?” Jisoo asked.

Scowling has become your new go-to expression. “Too soon. Just let me wallow in my self-pity and sorrow.”

If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought your friend was playing ‘The Floor Is Lava’ considering how gingerly she walked across your room. Safely on the other side, she ripped open a window to let some much needed fresh air in.

“I think you’re going to be wallowing in mold and fungus instead,” Jisoo commented with disgust. “Wallow all you want, I’m here to support you, girl. But I can’t allow you to turn your place into a biohazard zone. Isn’t your sister bothered by this?”

“My sister doesn’t care; our rooms are off limits to each other. As long as we both keep the common area clean, she won’t complain,” you said.

Jisoo sat down on your bed and patted the empty spot next to her. She immediately retracted her hand. “Eww, is that tangsuyuk sauce on your sheets?” she asked, completely appalled.

You shrugged and thumped onto your bed.

“So what are your plans for tonight?” she asked, trying to suppress a shudder.

“It’s Monday night. What plans could I possibly have?”

“We’re in college! Weekdays, weekends, they’re all the same!” your friend exclaimed. She looked at your sprawled-out figure. “I told you from the very beginning he wasn’t good for you. I know it doesn’t feel like this right now, but you’re lucky he’s out of your life. I really can’t watch you torture yourself over a jerk like him. Let’s go out to Hongdae!”

“I can’t go out. I already have plans.”

“Didn’t you just say you didn’t have any plans?”

“I lied. I have a date.”

Jisoo paused for a second, unsure how to respond. “Really? With whom?”

“Gong Yoo. We promised to kiss each other on first snowfall,” you responded listlessly.

“Yah!” Jisoo yelled and smacked your butt.

“Oww! What was that for?” you cried in surprise, rubbing the tender spot.

“Re-watching Goblin is not a date! You scared me for a second,” Jisoo said.

“How is it not a date? I meet a hot oppa, multiple hot oppas, we have dinner together, I giggle and blush and at the end of the night I get kissed to sleep.” You sat up and gave your friend a weary look. “I really don’t want to go out right now, but also don’t want to be on my own. Can’t we just stay in and watch a drama?” you asked with the saddest face you could muster.

Jisoo wanted to argue, but she couldn’t resist your pout. “Fine. But first you change your bedsheets, I’m not gonna sit in moldy tangsuyuk sauce all night. And I get to choose the drama.”

“Call!”

[16/04 17:58 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

1 Tangsuyuk (small) 1 Kimchi Kimbap 1 Beef Kimbap ---------------- Note: JK-nim thanks for the extra sauce! It was delicious. Are you a dipper or a pourer?

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (small) -- 13,000 1 Kimchi Kimbap -- 2,500 1 Beef Kimbap -- 2,500 1 Soup -- 0

Total: 18,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: LatteIsHorse-nim! Personally, I’m a dipper, but I don’t discriminate! I added some broth as service for you. It’s chilly tonight. Don’t catch a cold!

Paper Note: JK-nim, let’s be friends? I’m also a dipper! Did you know that butterflies can’t fly when they’re cold? Here is one that I folded, sending back my warmest thoughts to you on this frosty spring night.

The first thing that caught your eye was Jungkook who was patiently waiting at the library entrance. Despite the steaming goods in his hands, his entire body was shivering. The temperature suddenly dropped last night, but he couldn’t be bothered to dig up his padded jacket when he left the house this morning.

Before you could even greet him, he shoved a hot milk tea towards you and mumbled, “Here, it’s cold today so I thought you could use something warm.”

You were surprised by this sweet gesture. “Thanks,” you reached for it and examined the drink in your hand, ”How did you know I like black milk tea?”

He ducked his head and mumbled something into himself.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

Jungkook lifted his head. His cheeks and nose were a lovely wash of pink from the cold. “You mentioned once that you’re an OG milk tea drinker, so I just guessed” he repeated again, louder. “I saw this bungeoppang cart on the way here. We can share them while studying?” he said, holding up a small paper bag.

Your heart warmed and for the first time in weeks your face split into big smile, “Sure, I love bungeoppang! We’re not allowed to eat inside the library. So how about we eat everything first before they get cold and then go in?”

The both of you took a seat on a bench. By now Jungkook definitely regretted being too lazy to find his jacket this morning, but he was determined not to let it show. He passed the bag full of bungeoppangs to you.

You happily reached for one of the fish-shaped pastries and started munching on it. Your face crinkled, steam came out of your mouth. Jungkook’s heart skipped as he watched you in fascination. Your cheeks were flushed. A sudden instinct to stroke your rosy skin overcame him. Instead he reached for a bungeoppang and took a careful bite. “Are you feeling better today?”

“A little bit,” you said between bites, “I’m really sorry about last time. I feel bad now. I ditched you and now you’re treating me to snacks.” You went on and stabbed your straw through your milk tea. “I should be the one treating you instead.”

“I like to treat you,” Jungkook said, mesmerized by the way your lips moved against the straw. He suddenly realized what he was doing and cleared his throat, “A happy teacher is a good teacher! You’re already spending your time tutoring me.”

A laugh slipped out of you, “Jungkook, you’re paying me for your lessons. But it’s okay, this bungeoppang and tea definitely hits the spot, so I’ll accept it with a grateful heart. What are you drinking?”

Jungkook looked down on his drink and gave it a shake, the black pearls swirled around buoyantly. “Banana milk tea, I prefer sweet drinks.”

You leaned back against the bench and looked up at the clear blue sky. “Sweet things are the best combat against the bitter taste of life,” you sighed. You closed your eyes and soaked in the crisp air. Jungkook felt your melancholy, he could warm your body, but he didn’t know how to warm your heart.

“Sorry that I’m bothering you with my personal stuff. It’s just that I had a really bad breakup recently. I shouldn’t let it affect our lessons,” you said with a wistful smile as you lifted your head again.

The boy next to you remained silent. You turned and saw a contemplative look on his face. “It’s alright, everyone can have a bad day,” he finally said, “You don’t have to pretend to be okay when you’re not. If you’re never angry or sad, you won’t know when you’re happy.”

His words stunned you. Has Jungkook always been this thoughtful? You turned away from his gaze and looked down at the pastry in your hand. “They’re rhombus shaped,” you muttered in an attempt of distraction and showed your bungeoppang to Jungkook. “The fish scales,” you added when he looked confused.

“Ah yeah, the scales. It’s actually erroneous since most of the bungeoppangs depict a ganoid scale structure when in fact carps have cycloid scales to allow for a greater flexibility,” Jungkook explained.

A blank look appeared on your face. Probably the same blank look he had whenever you tried to explain the Bayes’ theorem to him. He let out an awkward laugh, “We studied the mechanics of fish scale structures in Material Science. You can correlate the flexibility of a scaled surface depending on its underlying geometric structure and material. It’s pretty cool stuff.”

“I can’t believe you can geek out about the geometry of fish scales, but don’t know how to define your probability population,” you snorted in disbelief.

“Hey, when will I ever need to calculate the probability of two people with the same birthday in a room? I just have a hard time learning stuff I never have to apply,” he said defensively.

Then you suddenly had an idea. “Tell you what, how about this? If you pass your statistics final, I’ll treat you to the best Chinese take-out in town! You can order whatever you want!”

Jungkook didn’t want to dampen your excitement by telling you that his part-time job already allowed him to eat as much Chinese take-out as he wanted. “Okay, but don’t complain when you go broke. My record was five jjajangmyeon and two tangsuyuk in one sitting.”

You batted away his challenge. “First you have to pass your finals,” you teased.

“I’ll pass,” Jungkook said.

You smiled at his cute determination. “Then it’s a date.”

Jungkook beamed back at you. “It’s a date.”

[05/05 18:21 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

1 Tangsuyuk (large) 2 Pork Mandu 1 Tteokkguk 1 Jjajangmyeon 1 Tteokkbokki ---------------- Note: No pineapple plz. JK-nim! Happy Children’s Day! For this special occasion I’ve decided to order all of my childhood favorites. Life is too short to eat bad food. I hope today you treat yourself to something delicious as well!

“Yah! JK! Your girlfriend placed an order again!” Yugyeom yelled across the store.

A mop of black hair peaked out from the back of the shop. “She’s not my girlfriend, she’s just a regular,” Jungkook yelled back.

“A regular you flirt with,” Yugyeom snickered, “I saw all the notes you left her in the system. ‘Don’t catch a cold!’, ‘Hwaiting!’ Don’t tell me that’s not your lame attempt at flirting.”

Suddenly an angry Yoongi stomped out of the kitchen. “Keep it down boys, we have guests here.”

Jungkook went up to the register and printed out the online order. “Hyung, can you make a large tangsuyuk without pineapple?”

“It’s a national holiday, there’s like two people here tonight,” Yugyeom muttered under his breath.

“What did you say, Yugyeom?”

“Nothing, hyung!”

Yoongi snatched the order out of Jungkook’s hand and gave both boys another irritated glance before he headed back into the kitchen.

“Hey JK,” Yugyeom said in a lower voice as he moved next to his friend, “aren’t you ever curious how LatteIsHorse is like? I mean, she must have some sense of humor judging by her username.”

“Sometimes. Don’t you ever wonder how our regulars are like? But it’s not like I’m ever gonna meet them or know it’s them when they come into the store,” Jungkook said with a shrug.

“You could though. Mingyu’s out on delivery, Eunwoo’s off so we have a free bike. The store is dead tonight. You could go deliver the order and have a look,” Yugyeom spurred him on.

Jungkook considered his friend’s suggestion. Every time he opened his locker a little origami bunny and butterfly stared back at him and brightened his day. It was true, he was curious how LatteIsHorse was like. “Okay I’ll go, but don’t pretend you’re doing me a favor. You just don’t want to do delivery tonight.”

A pretty girl in a Yonsei hoodie and shorts opened the door. She somehow looked familiar, but Jungkook couldn’t place from where. Maybe he met her on campus before.

“Delivery from Golden Bang,” Jungkook said, holding up his metal box.

“Ah great! I’m starving!” the girl said.

Jungkook started unloading the box and handed the dishes to the girl. Once he was done, he lingered awkwardly in the doorway. The girl gave him a curious look, clearly wondering why he wasn’t leaving. Jungkook gathered his courage and said, “I’m JK by the way.”

What followed was a beat of silence. Jungkook could feel his ears burn.

“Err, it’s nice to meet you, I guess? Is there anything else you need?” the girl asked after the painful pause. “Ah got it! Just a sec!” She ran into the apartment and came back with her wallet. “Here’s a tip, we’ll put the dishes back outside for pick up,” she said as she scrunched a bill into Jungkook’s hand, “Thanks for your hard work. Happy holiday!” And then she shut the door right into his face.

What just happened? Jungkook was stupefied. After an eternity he finally moved and mechanically pulled out his phone. He checked the delivery order on his app. LatteIsHorse – this was the address. She didn’t recognize him. Why was he so naive to believe that she would remember him? All he wanted in that moment was for the ground to open and swallow him up.

“Dinner’s here,” your sister said as you came out of the shower. “Did you order banana milk?”

“No? Why?” you joined her at the dinner table and started rummaging through the dishes. “Where’s the receipt?”

“I threw it in the trash,” she said. When she saw you opening up the trash can and fishing for it, she added, “Gross! What are you doing? Why do you need it?”

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (large) -- 20,000 2 Pork Mandu -- 6,000 1 Tteokkguk -- 4,500 1 Jjajangmyeon -- 4,500 1 Tteokkbokki -- 3,000

Total: 38,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: LatteIsHorse-nim! Happy Children’s Day to you too! I added my favorite childhood drink, banana milk! I hope it brings back as many happy childhood memories for you as it does for me.

There, sitting on the table, was a small bottle of banana milk. A smile spread across your face. “I need to file it away for tax purposes.”

Your sister looked at you like you were crazy. “Let’s eat already, I’m starving. Wash your hands.”

[14/05 16:55 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [TAKE AWAY]

1 Tangsuyuk (small) 1 Jjajangbap ---------------- Note: JK-nim, hope you’re doing well. I’m in the area today, so I thought I’d stop by and say hello in person! Is it weird that I feel a bit nervous?

The restaurant door wasn’t going to open itself. The past 15 minutes of you standing in front of it has proven that. You had some errands to run in Hongdae after school and decided on a whim to place a pickup order at your favorite take-out place.

Why was it so difficult to enter a restaurant? If you steeled your nerves any more, they’d probably break from how brittle they’ve become. You just had to open that damn door.

Sometimes you wondered if you liked that place more because of its great tangsuyuk or because of JK’s little notes which always managed to put a smile on your face.

One thing was for sure, you weren’t stalling because of the tangsuyuk.

“Welcome to Golden Bang!” a bright male voice rang across the restaurant as you passed through the door.

You walked up to the register and sneaked a peek at the boy’s name tag, ‘Yugyeom’. You felt a slight twinge of disappointment.

“I’m here to pick up my order? LatteIsHorse?” you asked tentatively.

A sign of recognition flashed across Yugyeom’s face. “Of course, your order’s ready! I’ll just bag it up for you,” he said cheerfully. He walked away and quickly came back with a white plastic bag full of food. Then he printed out your receipt and handed both to you.

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: YG ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (small) -- 13,000 1 Jjajangbap -- 5,500

Total: 18,500 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

You looked around the restaurant, it was empty since dinnertime was still a while away. You wondered if Yugyeom was managing the store alone right now. At least the cook must be in. “Your tangsuyuk is really delicious. It’s probably my favorite.”

Yugyeom gave you a big smile, “Happy to hear that you enjoy our food so much. The tangsuyuk is our chef’s family recipe. It’s one of our most popular menu items!”

You wringed your hands and finally decided to bite the bullet and straight out ask, “Is JK here? He usually takes my orders when I order delivery, so I just wanted to say hi.”

“JK’s shift doesn’t start until 6, so he should be here in about half an hour. If you want, I can relay a message,” he said with a knowing smile, “Or you can also take a seat and wait for him. I’m sure he’d be thrilled to meet you.”

No way you were going to sit here for half an hour and wait up for a stranger. “Ah no, that’s alright. If you could just say hi from me, that’d be great,” you quickly replied with a flush. JK would probably think you’re a creepy stalker.

“Sure, can do! Enjoy your day!” Yugyeom said merrily as you walked out the store.

A feeling of both relief and sadness passed through you. You slowly walked down the busy streets of Hongdae as you reprimanded yourself for being so stupid. What were you going to say to JK anyway if you met him? Thanks for being nice to me? You’re the reason I don’t burst into tears every single night? You’re the reason why I don’t feel completely alone when I’m sobbing into my food over Song Joong Ki’s acting? Thanks for making me gain 3 kilos in the last month?

Whatever you said, it would’ve only made you sound pathetic.

A crippling wave of desperation suddenly washed over you and rooted you in your tracks. A single tear rolled down your face. Then another. You dropped down into a crouch and started to bawl. You couldn’t fathom how you’ve reached this all-time low in your life. Why did you feel so incredibly sad about being stood up by a stranger? Especially when that stranger didn’t even know you were coming?

“Y/N?” an alarmed voice asked. You looked up when you felt a soft shake against your shoulder.

Through your tear-blurred eyes you recognized Jungkook’s face. He crouched down next to you and asked, “Is everything okay? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head and tried to wipe away your tears. It was a useless attempt as they kept on streaming down your face.

Jungkook hesitantly pushed your hair out of your face and asked, “Do you want to go somewhere else so you can tell me what happened?”

You gave him an imperceptible nod.

His hand gently moved down to your arm, afraid that you were going to push him away. With a steady grip he slowly helped you back onto your feet. Then he slid his hand through yours and led you down the hustle and bustle of Hongdae until you ended up in front of a convenience store located in one of the quieter residential side streets. He sat you down in a plastic chair and told you to wait. After a while he came back with a packet of tissues, a bottle of water and two red bean popsicles.

You gratefully took the tissues and loudly blew your nose. A small part of your brain told you to act more ladylike, especially in front of Jungkook, but the bigger part didn’t really care and just wanted to drag you back down into the pits of loneliness. A strangled sound came out of your mouth as you started to hiccup, making you sound like a drowning cat.

You expected Jungkook to laugh at your weird orchestra of emotions. Even you found it absurd and would’ve laughed if you weren’t already crying and hiccupping at the same time. But all he did was quietly open the water bottle and hand it to you.

As soon as you lifted the bottle to your mouth another hiccup made you almost spill the water on yourself. You held your breath for a few seconds and then took a careful sip. It seemed to work. You took a bigger sip, when another hiccup racked your body and you squeezed water all over your face.

There was a bewildering moment of shock, then you started to laugh deliriously. Forget before, this was your lowest point in life. This was so pathetic that it was hilarious again. Your laughter garbled whenever you hiccupped, only causing you to laugh even harder. You would’ve continued laughing for another long minute if you weren’t choking for air.

A small smile played around Jungkook’s mouth. He took another tissue and started wiping down your face. You hiccupped under his touch. He must think you’re a nutcase.

“I have a question. We have to do some statistical testing in my Quality Management class. What would a hypothesis look like if I wanted to analyze any deviation in a spare parts production line due to temperature conditions?” Jungkook asked.

Did he really forget hypothesis testing already? He finally managed to get it after four sessions! You frowned slightly. “You could set up a null hypothesis stating that a variation in temperature does not significantly impact the parameter of measurement in your production line. Jungkook did you seriously forget this?!” you said indignantly.

Jungkook gave you a playful laugh, “No, I think you drilled it so hard into my brain, I could probably recite all variables of the standard deviation formula if you woke me up in the middle of the night. Your hiccups stopped though.”

They did.

Embarrassment set in as you realized your predicament. Maybe your hormones were going crazy, maybe you were going crazy. You were getting whiplash from the emotional roller coaster you were on. In an attempt to hide your disgrace, you picked up another tissue and wiped away the remaining water, snot and tears.

There was tangible awkwardness in the air.

“I hope you like red bean,” Jungkook said shyly as he unwrapped a popsicle, “Red bean is my favorite. My friends keep on calling me old fashioned, but it just reminds me of the time when my mom used to buy me these after taekwondo class. I think I liked the popsicles more than I liked going to class.” He sighed in reverie and held up the popsicle for you.

You stared at his hand. You remembered how it felt against yours just a few moments ago. Firm, warm and steady. Then you looked up at Jungkook. He hid it well, but you could tell that there was concern behind his encouraging smile.

“This is so embarrassing,” you said as you accepted the popsicle and turned your head away from him, “I don’t know what is wrong with me right now. I’m usually not like this.”

“Did something happen earlier?” Jungkook asked cautiously as he unwrapped his own popsicle and took a bite out of it.

Did something happen earlier? Why did you cry? Where you really crying just because you didn’t meet JK?

“No,” you said and slowly shook your head, “I don’t know. I just suddenly felt overwhelmed.”

Jungkook hesitated before he asked, “Are you sad because of your breakup?”

Were you sad because of your ex-boyfriend?

“I don’t think so. In the beginning when we broke up I was devastated, but I don’t think that’s the case anymore,” you said more to yourself than to Jungkook. “Everyone told me I was lucky to be rid of him. I really didn’t understand why. But I think it’s becoming clearer now. Maybe it’s not sadness. Maybe it’s fear. I think I just feel lost. I don’t know who I am anymore. Maybe it scares me to know that I was able to lose myself and I don’t know if I can find a way back.”

Before you knew it, you spilled your heart, your deepest and darkest fears to Jungkook. You barely knew this boy, yet it still felt oddly comforting. He remained quiet and listened.

“I wanted to meet someone today, but they weren’t there,” you continued, “I think in that moment I just realized how utterly lost I was on my own.”

Jungkook searched for the appropriate words. How do you respond to someone’s most vulnerable thoughts? “I mean you know what they say. It’s not about how much you’ve lost, it’s about how much you have left.”

He peeked at you to check if it worked.

“Jungkook, did you just quote Iron Man at me?” you asked incredulously before a giggle slipped from your lips.

You noticed how his cheeks dimpled when he gave you an embarrassed laugh, “Sorry, I was trying to say something that would cheer you up. I’m probably not doing a very good job.”

In that second you realized how kind-hearted Jungkook actually was. Your heart squeezed. “Don’t say that. Thanks for listening to my problems. And thanks for the red bean popsicle. I also ate this a lot in my childhood. Mainly because my sister hated them. She always used to steal my ice cream out of the freezer so at some point I asked my parents to only buy me red bean popsicles. She never touched those,” you reminisced.

Jungkook laughed at your story, “Your sister sounds like a piece of work.”

“We used to fight a lot, we used to never get along,” you became thoughtful, “At some point that stopped. I think we just grew up and grew to understand and accept our differences. She doesn’t steal my food anymore. I don’t steal her clothes anymore. We may not always agree, but we respect each other’s decisions.”

“You know, for someone who just said she feels lost, you sound pretty self-reflected right now,” Jungkook mused, “Maybe you need to do the same as you did with your sister. Understand yourself and accept the differences of your past and present.”

You paused at this. He was right. You were so desperately trying to fend off these negative emotions that you never took the time to actually think. You were chasing an image that never existed. Not in the past nor in the present.

“You’re surprisingly good at giving advice. Thanks, Jungkook,” you said.

“Surprisingly? What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, offended. The glint in his eyes gave his teasing away.

Laughter pealed from you. Jungkook was captivated by the sound. He drank in the way your eyes creased with mirth and followed your fingers as they brushed back your hair.

Jungkook’s phone vibrated. “Oh shit!”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I was actually on my way to work and my boss is asking me where I am,” he said as he stuffed his phone back in his pocket.

Jungkook startled when you suddenly jumped up. “Then you should get to work! You should’ve said something sooner. I’m so sorry for keeping you here!”

“No, it’s really fine. I’ve done enough overtime. He won’t complain if I’m a few minutes late,” he said, “Are you feeling better?”

You ignored his question and pushed against his shoulders to get him out of the chair. “Go to work, Jungkook. I’ll be fine, your red bean popsicle did wonders,” you responded placatively.

When he still didn’t move, you grabbed his arm and pulled him back onto the main street. Jungkook’s skin scorched under your touch. “Go to work, Jungkook,” you said again with more emphasis.

“Are you sure…?” he asked, unwilling to let you out of his sight before he knew you weren’t just going cry again at the next street corner.

“I won’t burst into tears,” you said as if reading his mind. “You were right, I need to reconcile with myself. So I’ll go home, enjoy my dinner and think about who I am and who I want to be. And you,” you said giving him another gentle shove, “need to go to work.”

Jungkook saw the stubborn look on your face. He wondered if you realized you were using your teaching voice right now. You weren’t going to take no for an answer. “Okay fine, text me when you get home?”

You waved away his concerns. “Sure. Go already,” you said with a big reassuring smile. “See you tomorrow at school!” you added before you turned around and walked away.

“You’re late,” Yugyeom said as soon as Jungkook entered the store.

Jungkook gave Yugyeom a sheepish look and only muttered, “Yeah sorry, something came up on my way here.” Then he rushed past him to the back of the restaurant and changed into his uniform.

Once he came back out he noticed Yugyeom throwing him strange looks.

“What?”

“Your girlfriend says hi,” Yugyeom said with a hint of amusement.

“Who?”

Yugyeom gave Jungkook a meaningful look, “LatteIsHorse. She ordered pick up. I think she was hoping to meet you. She’s cute. She looks like she’s probably a college student around here.”

“I know,” was all Jungkook replied.

Yugyeom’s eyes bulged in curiosity, “You know? You know she’s cute or you know she’s a student? You never told me what actually happened that night!”

Jungkook gave him a tired look and said, “She didn’t recognize me. She wore a Yonsei hoodie, so I guess she goes there. Nothing else happened.”

“Hmm, that’s weird. She was asking for you today, so she definitely knows your name,” Yugyeom said.

“Who knows, maybe she was having a lot on her plate that day,” Jungkook said with a shrug. He wondered where you lived and if you already got home safely. “Why are you obsessing over this so much?”

“Man, do you know how painful it is to watch your sorry attempts at flirting? I’m just trying to help you out, mate,” Yugyeom quipped.

“I wasn’t flirting! I was just trying cheer someone up who was obviously feeling down! It’s called being a decent human being,” Jungkook exclaimed.

Yugyeom gave him the side eye, “Yeah, that’s still not gonna get you laid.”

[19/05 18:47 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

1 Tangsuyuk (small) 1 Bibimbap ---------------- Note: JK-nim, I visited you at the store last week, but you weren’t there. TT-TT I hope you don’t think I’m weird, I just really like talking to you. You always manage to put a smile on my face when I’m having a hard day. We’re still friends, right?

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (small) -- 13,000 1 Bibimbap -- 5,000

Total: 18,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: LatteIsHorse-nim! I’m sad that I missed your visit to our store. I’ll try harder the next time! I added some extra bulgogi to make up for it. :) Of course we’re still friends. I don’t wish any hard days upon you, but I’m glad to hear that my words have a healing effect. In case you ever need a friend to talk to, feel free to talk to me. 010-1234-5678.

The study sessions with Jungkook continued per usual. He still struggled and had frustrated outbursts from time to time, especially when you forced him to revise probability distributions. When you finally reached regression analysis, things became easier.

Although your sessions remained the same, something in your dynamic changed. The both of you became looser and more playful around each other. He wouldn’t clamp up anymore and you felt more at ease around him. You became friends. He never once mentioned that disasterous afternoon.

At home, on the evening of the incident, you shot Jungkook a text and slumped down on the couch. Your sister was out that night, so it was just you in the apartment. Normally, the eerie quiet would’ve unsettled you and you would’ve distracted yourself from your deafening thoughts. But that night you just let them scream, yell and tear at you.

It was an excruciating process, but in the end your head was clearer, your heart calmer. You still weren’t quite there yet, but at least you made a first step out of the endless pit of desperation.

There were other things you noticed about yourself. Gradually you realized you didn’t mind being on your own anymore. You rediscovered your love for drawing and created you own mandala art. You also learned to code your own website and now had a clickable version of your cv on the go. Although you made time for yourself, you weren’t a hermit. You went out for drinks with Jisoo and soon asked Namjoon to take you along to your university’s Math Club. There you met a lot of familiar faces that you’ve encountered in class but never talked to. With them you spent animated evenings discussing stimulating math problems and exchanging incredibly bad math puns.

You also started noticing things about Jungkook. He wasn’t as timid and shy as you initially thought. Once he got over his awkwardness, he turned out to be quite a cheeky and goofy guy. He teased you or told you silly jokes whenever you were on a break. Despite his obvious aversion for statistics, he still took your lessons very seriously. Diligently listening to your explanations and trying to solve the problems to the best of his abilities. His study-mode showed you other sides of him. The cute pout he had whenever he tried to hide his confusion. Or the two little ridges which formed between his eyes whenever he was concentrated and deep in thought. More often than not you fought the urge to smooth them out with your touch or even better, with a kiss.

“Is something wrong?” Jungkook asked when he caught you staring.

“No,” you quickly said, “I was just thinking that you don’t seem to have much trouble with regression analysis.”

“I don’t know, the relationship between the variables just makes much more sense,” Jungkook said.

You looked at him and considered, “Hmm, maybe you don’t need my tutoring anymore?”

Brief dismay crossed Jungkook’s face. “My finals are in three weeks. I think I’d still prefer if you helped me revise the earlier chapters,” he said, “Unless you need more time to study for your own finals.”

Being in college meant that you were always in dire need of more time. That constant nagging voice in the back of your head telling you to study was an occupational disease. But you didn’t have to kid yourself, those four hours a week spent on Jungkook weren’t going to make or break your grade. Besides, you enjoyed spending time with him. You wondered if he felt the same.

“It’s alright, I’ll help you revise. Just don’t embarrass me on your finals. I don’t want Namjoon to tell me afterwards that you didn’t manage to calculate the mean of the population or worse, read the scoring table upside down,” you teased him light-heartedly.

Jungkook’s ears turned bright red. “That happened once!” he said, “How long are you going to hold that over my head?”

You laughed at his indignation. “Don’t forget, you’ll get endless tangsuyuk if you pass.”

[26/05 20:09 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

1 Tangsuyuk (small) 1 Jjamppong ---------------- Note: JK-nim, I’d like to get the advice of a friend. There’s this kind, sweet boy that I really like. I would like to tell him how I feel, but he’s seen me in my lowest and ugliest moments. Maybe he’ll think I’m just baggage? I guess I’m afraid of his rejection.

Golden Bang 7 Wausan-ro 29-gil, Seogyo-dong

Server: JK ------------------- TO GO

1 Tangsuyuk (small) -- 13,000 1 Jjamppong -- 5,000 1 Soju -- 0

Total: 18,000 -------------------- Thanks for ordering at Golden Bang! Have a golden day!

Note: LatteIsHorse-nim! It’s only human to fear rejection. I can completely understand. I also have someone I really like. She’s really pretty, smart and funny. Spending time with her makes me really happy, but I never managed to tell her. Maybe we should both gather our courage and cheer each other on? I’m not saying that drunken confessions are the way to go but consider this soju a symbolism for (liquid) courage.

Paper Note: This is a flexagon. Whenever you need a word of encouragement give it a flip!

Jungkook examined the hexagonal origami in his hands. On the outside it read ‘Flip Me!’

He gave the flexagon a flip. ‘JK you’re the best!’ And another. ‘The world needs more people like you!’ And another. ‘Don’t forget that LatteIsHorse is always rooting for you!’ And another. ‘Aja, aja, hwaiting!’ And another. ‘Thank you for being my friend!’

Jisoo barged into you room and flopped onto your bed. ‘Ahhh! I’m so glad you finally cleaned in here. Seriously, if I find another rancid noodle stuck to my clothes, I’ll call in a hazmat team.”

“I don’t know why you’re complaining so much. It’s not even your room,” you said.

“Hey, where are you ever going to find a friend like me?”

Your friend sacrificed many a night away from college parties to binge watch handsome oppas sweep equally beautiful unnies off their feet with you. And she wasn’t shy telling you that.

“Let’s go out tonight,” Jisoo suggested. She rolled back onto her feet and started walking around, inspecting your cleaning job.

“Our finals start in two weeks; I really don’t want to spend my weekend nursing a hangover.”

“I’m not saying you have to get wasted. Tonight is the Pre-Game Night. We have to go!” Jisoo demanded.

The Final’s Pre-Game Night was a campus-wide tradition. Every semester on the Friday a week before finals huge parties were thrown to signal the beginning of the end. It was like a dare – were you confident enough to get completely drunk and still hope to pass your finals? Naturally everybody on campus joined in and drank.

“Not getting wasted at a Pre-Game party? That’s like saying you’ve decided you don’t need to breathe. I really don’t think…”

“What’s this?” Jisoo suddenly interrupted. “LatteIsHorse-nim! Personally, I’m a dipper, but I don’t discriminate! I added some broth as service for you. It’s chilly tonight. Don’t catch a cold!” she read aloud, “LatteIsHorse-nim! Happy Children’s Day to you too! I added my favorite childhood drink, banana milk! I hope it brings back as many happy childhood memories for you as it does for me.”

You flung yourself across the room and almost tripped over your own feet trying to rip the receipts out of Jisoo’s hands.

“Oh. My. God. Is your take-out guy flirting with you?!” she asked.

“No! He’s just a friend. We send encouraging notes to each other,” you tried to explain.

Jisoo threw her hands in the air. “Okay that’s it! We’re going to the Pre-Game party, whether you want or not. You can’t tell me that the only flirting interaction you have is with a stranger who delivers you tangsuyuk!”

The place Jisoo picked out was ram packed and buzzing with energy. It was an open dorm party; all the common rooms were transformed into dancefloors. Different types of music played from each corner of the building. Crates of alcohol were stacked against the walls.

The both of you grabbed a beer and made your way through the crowd.

“You’re going to have fun tonight, alright?”

“I don’t think this works that way,” you laughed.

“Then put some effort into it. We look way too cute for it to go to waste,” she said as you roamed around the floors and explored the different areas. You looked down on your dress. It was a pretty warm night; you had opted for a flowy summer dress with a blush pink floral pattern. Jisoo was right, it was cute.

You discovered a familiar face at the edge of the crowd. “Sunbae!” you said.

Namjoon turned around gave you a surprised smile. “Y/N! Out of all the places on campus, we meet each other here tonight. What are the chances?”

He was surrounded by a group of friends, you spotted Jungkook right behind him. The boy gave you an excited wave. A slow smile spread across your face. “I don’t know, but why don’t we ask Jungkook to calculate it for you?”

Namjoon let out a hearty laugh while Jungkook groaned in exasperation.

“Do you see what I have to put up with every week, hyung?”

“Didn’t you just say it’s the best thing that happened to you?” Namjoon taunted, “You have some nerve showing up in front of me tonight. You better ace your SA finals. Do you know how many favors I had to pull to get Y/N to tutor you?”

“What do you expect me to do?” Jungkook sputtered, “Go home and lock myself up on Pre-Game Night?”

If it weren’t for Jisoo you would’ve done just that. Speaking of Jisoo, your friend cleared her throat and gave you a painful nudge in the side.

“Ah yes, uhm, Jisoo you already know Namjoon. This is Jungkook. You know, the guy I’m tutoring.”

Jungkook gave her a small wave.

Jisoo didn’t even try to hide her amazement. “This is Jungkook? But you’re like wayyy cute!” She turned to you and added still loud enough for everyone to hear, “Why didn’t you tell me he was cute?!”

The embarrassment was obvious on Jungkook’s face. You could tell that Namjoon was getting a rush out of his dongsaeng’s reaction and before he could provoke him any further you decided to jump in.

“Who wants to go dance?” you asked loudly. You turned around and headed to the dancefloor without waiting for any of them to respond.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were tutoring a hunk?” Jisoo muttered under her breath.

“He’s not a hunk. Don’t call him that.”

“Yeah but he’s hot. You made him sound like he was a nerd.”

“He is a nerd.”

Your friend gave you a glare, “Why are we arguing about this? I know you’re not that oblivious.”

Of course you weren’t oblivious to Jungkook, but you weren’t going to tell Jisoo that.

“Let’s dance.” You grabbed Jisoo’s hand and twirled her around.

Namjoon and his friends joined you on the dancefloor. The mood of the crowd was electric. Music pulsed through your veins. Drinks flowed, shots were downed, people pulled out their best, lamest, craziest dance moves. Everyone celebrated like the world was going to end.

After a while you became hot and needed a new drink. You looked around for Jisoo and saw her grinding up against one of Namjoon’s friends. She’d be busy for a while. You inconspicuously moved away from the group and decided to go get some fresh air.

“Wait up,” Jungkook said as he appeared next to you, “are you getting something to drink? I’ll join you.”

His dark curls were slightly matted with sweat. His baggy t-shirt clung to his body. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or Jisoo’s damn voice whispering into your ear. He was hot.

You circled your arm through his and pulled him through the crowd. His muscles shifted under your touch. You grabbed two drinks from a crate and handed one to Jungkook, your nerves tingled when his hand brushed against yours. The both of you remained in comfortable silence, leisurely walking through the dorm, neither of you in a hurry to get back to your friends. You explored the facility areas, weaving through pounding and quiet parts of the building.

“You look really nice tonight,” he said after a while.

The heels of your shoes echoed against marble floor of the dark hallway. “Thanks, Jisoo raided my closet.”

“She’s really something isn’t she?”

“She’s the best. I’m grateful to have her as my friend.”

Somewhere further down the hallway you made out two figures pressed against the wall, probably trying to find a quiet place of their own.

“You also look nice,” you said to Jungkook.

“I’m wearing the same things I always do,” Jungkook said, his voice turning shy.

You were getting closer to the couple. You could see how the guy was sticking his tongue down the girl’s throat. She seemed to enjoy it from the sounds she was making. Lucky them.

Your next words were definitely fuelled by your tipsy state, “I guess that means you always look nice.” Jungkook missed a step. You had to laugh at his blunder.

The couple in front of you broke apart and looked in your direction. More annoyed about being interrupted rather than embarrassed being caught. You were about to make a funny comment to Jungkook when your heart stopped and you froze.

A string of saliva still clung to the guy’s lips. His eyes widened when he recognized your face in the darkness. “Y/N?”

Your breath hitched and your grip tightened around Jungkook’s arm. He glanced between you and the guy, the situation slowly dawning on him.

“Why did you stop? Who’s that?”, the girl whined.

“No one,” the guy responded as he returned his attention to her and they started making out again.

Jungkook didn’t know if he wanted to puke or punch that guy. A sharp pain in his arm brought him back to his senses. Your nails dug into his skin. He put his hand around yours and loosened your iron grip.

“Let’s go,” he said and quickly pulled you past the couple. You followed him in a daze. He stopped once you were outside of the building, hidden away in a quiet corner.

His hands reached for your face and he lifted your eyes to his. “Breathe.”

You closed your eyes, let out a long breath and let your head fall against the wall behind you. The horrible encounter replayed in your mind. You had to open your eyes again.

There he was right in front of you. Worried Jungkook, kind Jungkook, beautiful Jungkook.

Your hands reached behind his neck and you pulled him a bit closer. You tried to decipher his gaze, it was dark and yearning. Everything was a haze, the alcohol in your blood made you daring.

“Kiss me,” you whispered.

His mouth crashed against yours. Your hands slipped up into his hair and your bodies entwined. You opened your lips and sucked in his hot breath. Your tongues found each other; he groaned at your taste.

He moved one of his hands down your side until he found purchase on your leg and hitched it up against his waist, pressing his body further into you. You let out a moan when his hips ground into yours.

All your senses drowned in Jungkook. You drowned in his scent, you drowned in his touch, you drowned in his heat. You tried to use Jungkook to drown out the grotesque image from before. Suddenly the heat of the moment disappeared, and a cold shower ran down your spine.

You broke away from your breathless kiss and put your hands against Jungkook’s chest to put some distance between you. He gave you a disoriented look.

“I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have kissed.”

Jungkook’s eyes grew wide and alarmed. “Did I do something wrong?”

His lips were swollen, his hair was mussed. You wanted nothing more than to pull him back in, but you couldn’t. Not here. Not like this. He deserved better.

You pushed yourself off the wall and gave him a small shove. He immediately let go of you and stepped back. “I shouldn’t have kissed you like this,” was all you said before you ran back into the building.

The next day you woke up to a splitting headache and a heart full of regret. You really needed to talk to Jungkook and explain to him why you ran away the previous night, but you were too much of a coward to pick up your phone and contact him. You decided it was better to talk to him in person at school.

The following week at school you waited for him in the library. Your heart was in your throat. Your prepared speech played in an endless loop in your head.

‘I’m sorry I ran away. I shouldn’t have kissed you in that state. It wasn’t fair to you. You deserve better than that.’

You looked down on your phone to check the time. A message blinked. You opened and read through it. Your heart sank. He wasn’t coming. He wanted to study the last week before finals on his own. He thanked you for your time.

Slowly you got up and packed your bag. You blew it. You wanted to do him right, but you only caused him pain. Thinking back, you realized he gave and gave and gave and all you did was take. He was right to stay away from you. There was no way he’d be happy with someone like you.

The week passed and finals week commenced. You immersed yourself in your exams and tried to get over your heavy heart. You were pretty sure you aced Geometry II, but the Numerical Analysis exam was nothing but a blur.

Although your heart ached, you didn’t fall back into the same dark pit of the past. You didn’t feel lost, you got on with your life. Nobody noticed the Jungkook-sized hole in your heart except for you. You wanted to talk about your feelings, but you didn’t think Jisoo or your sister would understand. They’d probably just tell you to get out there and find a new guy.

Another week passed. You were walking out of your professor’s office, finalizing the details of your summer internship, when you bumped into Namjoon.

“Y/N! What are you doing here? Aren’t you off for summer break yet?” he asked.

“I was just discussing my internship with Prof. Kim,” you said.

“Ah you’re participating in his research program?” Namjoon said, “I heard it’s really interesting, he’s intense though.”

“I think intense is fine for me, I need something to do with my brain. Otherwise I’ll just go crazy,” you said with a smile.

“Speaking of intense, what did you do to that kid?” Namjoon suddenly asked.

You tensed. Did something happen to Jungkook? “What do you mean?”

“Did you brainwash him or something? He got a 98 on his SA final! When I handed him over to you, he was still asking me why the positive and negative z-scores tables had different values,” Namjoon said in awe.

Relief washed through you and your chest filled with pride. “Watch out sunbae, I might be coming for your TA position,” you said with a wink.

At home you sprawled out on the couch. Your sister’s classes ended earlier than yours so now she was away with her friends travelling the countryside. Your mind wandered as you stared up at the ceiling of your quiet apartment. You really wanted to call Jungkook and congratulate him, but you didn’t think you should. He clearly didn’t want to be in contact with you, you hadn’t heard anything from him since his text canceling your study sessions.

A pang of sadness washed through you. It should have been a happy moment for the both of you, you should be eating tangsuyuk together right now. You really wanted to tell someone about your joy and your grief.

Then you suddenly remembered your friend. Your friend who never judged and always had something wise to say. Maybe he would understand the conflicts of your heart. You got up and dug through the receipts on your desk until you found the one with his phone number on it.

You hoped he wouldn’t think you were crazy, but then again, he was the one who offered himself to talk to you any time. You typed in the number and hit call. Your phone dialed when suddenly the number displayed switched to a name. Jungkook.

You quickly hit the cancel button and stared at your phone. Did you accidentally hit Jungkook’s contact? Was your phone broken? This time you typed in the number more carefully and hit call. Again, the display switched to Jungkook’s name. You hit cancel.

Your heart began to race. You opened up Jungkook’s contact and compared it with the number on the receipt.

Holy shit.

JK was Jungkook. Jungkook was JK.

The stranger who cheered you on and made you smile whenever you felt down was Jungkook. You combed through all your receipts and reread them one by one. What was the probability for this to happen? This was so bizarre, but it made so much sense. Jungkook was the kindest person you knew. Why wouldn’t he be kind to a stranger who needed some uplifting words and comforting tangsuyuk?

[13/06 18:20 PM] User: LatteIsHorse ---------------- ORDER [DELIVERY]

3 Tangsuyuk (large) 6 Jjajangmyeon ---------------- Note: JK-nim, I hope you’re doing well! Can I ask you for a strange favor? Would you mind delivering today’s order to me? I would really like to meet you and thank you in person for always being by my side! <3

The doorbell rang. Your heart pounded painfully in your chest. You slowly walked up to the door and opened it.

“Delivery from Golden…,” Jungkook’s voice faltered.

“Hi JK-nim,” you said quietly. You opened the door wider. “Thanks for coming today.”

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” he asked.

You had to smile at his look of utter confusion. “I live here. Come in, you can put the food on the dining table.” You turned around and walked back into the apartment.

Jungkook hesitated before he followed you inside. He moved up to the table and unloaded his box. He tried to steady himself. “You’re LatteIsHorse-nim?” he asked skeptically, “I’ve been here before. Last time someone else opened the door.”

He has visited you before? “Oh, that was probably my sister. I live here with her. She’s out travelling right now.”

“So you’re on your own right now? Why did you order so much food?” he asked. A giant mountain of neatly stacked dishes graced the table.

You came up and pried the metal box out of his hand. Then you moved in front of him and unclasped his bike helmet. He flinched at your sudden closeness.

“To celebrate. Congratulations on passing your Statistical Analysis exam. Namjoon told me you passed in flying colors,” you said in a gentle voice. “I promised you the best Chinese take-out in town, didn’t I?”

Jungkook still looked shell-shocked and simply stared at you.

“I’m sorry about that night at the Pre-Game party. I’m sorry I ran away. I owe you an explanation.”

Jungkook regained his wits and swallowed. “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself. I get it, we were drunk. It was a mistake.” He looked down and tried to turn back around.

You grabbed onto his hands before he could move away. “Jungkook, look at me.”

He stopped turning, but his eyes remained on the floor.

You took a deep breath and squeezed his hands. “I really like you. I’ve really liked you for a while now.”

His eyes shot up to your face.

“The reason why I ran away that night was because I felt guilty. I probably would’ve ended up kissing you anyway, but in that moment, I kissed you because I wanted to forget. I didn’t want our first kiss to be like that. I wanted it to be the me who liked you and not the me who tried to drown out her shitty ex-boyfriend. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

There was an unreadable look in his eyes. Your heart fluttered in nervousness. “How long have you known I was JK? How long did you know I had a crush on you?” he asked.

You could feel your blood rushing through your ears, the butterflies in your stomach beat like crazy. “Since today. I was sad because I thought I couldn’t share the promised meal with you. I wanted a friend to talk to, so I thought to call you. You who was always kind to me, even when I wasn’t kind to myself. Isn’t fate strange? We cheered each other on to find each other.” You had to laugh at the irony of it all.

Your hand hesitantly moved up to his face and stroked across his cheek, “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I made you sad.”

Jungkook melted against your touch. “If I’m never sad, I won’t know when I’m happy.” Then he closed the gap and pressed his lips against yours.

It was a sweet but sad kiss. Filled with happiness and sorrow. Every touch was filled with an ‘I missed you’ or an ‘I’m sorry’.

Jungkook pressed you against the edge of your dining table, he lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. You both deepened your kiss. Your hands snaked through his hair and pulled him closer into you. Jungkook braced his hands against the table and instinctively ground his hips against your core. You moaned his name at the sensation. The both of you broke apart to catch your breaths, you pulled at his jacket and removed his layers of clothing.

You stilled at the sight of his bare chest. He was truly beautiful. Your fingers traced along his skin and marvelled at its silkiness. Jungkook shuddered under your touch. His hands moved under your shirt and you both lifted it off your head. Then you gripped his hands and slowly led them around your back, urging him to take off your bra. You wriggled out of your jeans and laid yourself completely bare in front of him. Jungkook stopped and stared at you, equally amazed.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

Your heart swelled and you pulled him back into a kiss. Both his kisses and his hands left a burning trail down your body. His mouth sucked on the soft skin of your neck while his hands moved across your breast, across your stomach, lower and lower. Wetness gathered between your legs.

“Jungkook,” you sighed. The muscles of his back shifted under your touch.

He released your neck with a loud smack and looked at the artwork he created. He still couldn’t get over how overwhelmingly beautiful you were. Your cheeks flushed, eyes bright and his name at the tip of your tongue. He felt himself strain against his confines.

“Please,” you whimpered. You looked down at his hand and tried to silently command him to touch you.

He kept his eyes trained on your face when his fingers moved lower and slid through your folds. Another moan left your lovely lips. He teased you with his touches, gathering your wetness until he finally pushed down where you wanted him most. Your hands dug into his back, your hips bucked, and you threw your head back in pleasure. He steadied your hips with his other hand and slowly pushed a finger inside of you. Another loud moan echoed through the room.

Jungkook was transfixed by you. He added a second finger and started pushing in and out. Your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and small breathless pants left your mouth. Jungkook increased the speed of his movement and marvelled at the way you reacted under his touch. Then he moved his mouth to your breast and closed his lips around your nipple. You raked your hands through his hair and arched into him. Your core tightened around his fingers. All your nerves were on fire.

You pulled him away from your breast and guided his mouth back to yours. Your tongue traced his lips and you swallowed his moan. You wanted more, you wanted him closer. His fingers curled and his thumb pressed down on you. Jungkook held you tight as you shuddered and fell apart around him.

He rested his forehead against yours, your breath mingled as you both panted into each other. He slowly removed his hand from you and traced his mouth with his slicked fingers, then he moved them to your lips. Your tongue licked the tips of his fingers. His grip tightened around your waist.

“I want to feel you,” you said.

Jungkook shuddered at your words. “Where is your room?”

“The door behind you.”

Jungkook lifted you off the table, you tightened your legs around him and gave him another kiss. He walked you both to your room and gently laid you down on your bed. He took off his pants, then slowly moved onto the bed and hovered above you.

“Tell me what you want,” he said.

Your fingers caressed his face. “I want you to be happy.”

Another shudder ran through him. “I am happy. What else?”

You traced his eyes, his nose, his lips. “I want to be the one making you happy.”

Jungkook couldn’t contain himself anymore. His heart felt like it was about to explode. He covered your body with his and pressed himself into you. Your eyes rolled back as he entered you slowly. You felt so full you wanted to burst out of your skin. You could feel how the Jungkook-sized whole in your heart filled up again.

He rocked into you and took your breath away. Your nails raked across his back and left red lines against his smooth skin. Jungkook ducked his head into the crook of your neck and moaned against your skin. Every pull dragged pleasure out of you, every push brought you closer together.

You wanted more. Jungkook gave you more.

You wanted him closer. Jungkook pushed deeper into you.

With every moan, Jungkook pushed harder, pushed deeper. He wanted to melt into you. He wanted the lines between you and him to disappear. Your desire was his desire. His pleasure was your pleasure.

Jungkook could feel you tightening around him. He moved his mouth over yours and gave you an ardent kiss. The light of your desire turned brighter and brighter until it burst apart into a thousand little flames. You cried against his lips and let the heat consume you. Your body pulsed around his and the overwhelming sensation brought him right over the edge with you.

The both of you laid on your bed and clung to each other. Neither of you willing to let the other go. Your pounding chests beat in tandem. Jungkook stroked his hand across your hair and kissed your head.

“I want you to be happy too,” he said.

“I know,” you said as you smiled against his chest, “You make me happy.”

Jungkook pulled you tighter into him and you remained silent for a while. His hand traced lazy patterns against your skin. Your breathing evened out.

“Are you allergic to pineapple?” he suddenly asked.

You looked up at him in surprise. “No. Why?”

“Because you always order tangsuyuk without pineapple.”

“Oh. That’s because my sister hates pineapple.”

Jungkook frowned, you pulled yourself up and kissed the little ridges between his eyes.

“What?” you asked.

“I think the jjajangmyeon is all soggy by now,” he said.

You had to laugh. “Probably, but the tangsuyuk should still taste great.”

Jungkook kissed you with a smile. “You’re right, tangsuyuk always tastes great.”

°°°°°°°

02/05/20

4K notes · View notes

20moonchild21 · 3 years

Text

𝗦𝗲𝗵𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵𝘁 [𝗯𝘁𝘀]

⇉ 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 5

[pairings]

JK x female!oc, Jin x female!oc, bunny!JK x human!oc, leopard!Jin x human!oc, JK x female!oc x Jin

[warnings]

mentiones of abusement, injuries, injured Jin, traumatized Jin and JK, suffering, angst, mentiones of feeling guilty, too much fluff

[words]

4.3k

[author]

I am so excited to finally add Jin properly to the story. I really hope you like the new chapter. The next update will next Sunday, because I am still stuck in my exam period.

Also, if you are looking for some other Hybrid!Bts au stories, I have a few pretty good recommendations for you.

My personal favorite is Inferiority complex written by @starlightauroras-writes. Please check out her story and leave a lot of likes. Her story s amazing!🥰

Don’t forget to also check out my other recommendations that I linked below that chapter.

Of you have any criticism or recommendations or other wishes, there is no need to be afraid to write me. I am open for any kind of messages as long as they are constructive! Don’t forget to like and leave a comment, so I know I can continue!

Also, thank you for all the likes and cute messages you left under the other chapters. It always makes me happy!

By the way, did you watch JK‘s livestream yesterday? He actually read out my comment, and I swear my heart exploded. Best moment in my life🙏🏼🙈🤤

Stay healthy and safe!

Mꨄ

[chapter 4 ||| chapter 6]

„Is he going to be okay, Hope?” Jungkook whispered, tears still spilling out of his eyes, as he watched his brothers injured upper body lying on the couch in Hope’s apartment.

Once the trio had arrived there, the girl immediately had taken off Jin’s shirt and tried to medicate his injuries. He had several bruises along his ribcage. Hope palpated over them, and finally came to the decision that luckily, that he had no inner bruises or broken bones.

But his scratched were another thing. Some were already starting to heal, but others were deep and looked infected. The girl carefully cleaned them all up with a wet clothe. Every time the wet fabric made contact with the open flesh, she would feel his muscles twitching under her touch. He must feel so much pain. When she was done, she opened her fits aid kid and covered all the deeper cuts up with fresh bandages, so they would catch other infections.

She soaked the cloth again with water, and drove it over the sleeping boy’s face, whipping off all the dust, sweat and dirt. Beside the scratches and bruises, Jin had a really beautiful face. With his plump lips slightly parted, and his deep brown eyes closed, he truly looked like a sleeping beauty.

“Yes, Kookie.” She sighed, as she threw her dirty cloth away. “He is going to be okay. We will keep an eyes on his injured so they won’t get infected again.”

She stood up from the ground, taking all the used supplied with her into the kitchen, where she disposed them in the trash can. For a short moment, she closed her eyes and leant forward onto the counter edge, trying to process the day.

Who could have told her almost three weeks ago, that her world would turn upside down from one second to another?

Studying law, she had read many cases from abused and misused Hybrids. She had read them back and forth, up and down, trying to imagine their how they must feel. But nothing she had read could compare with reality.

Reality had hit her hard since she had seen the real suffering in this world. In the past, she wanted to stand up for Hybrid law, because she thought that they were disadvantaged in this society. But now, now she wanted to stand up for them, because they were suffering in this society. Suffering from the species that called themselves human.

But right now, she could do nothing but being there for those two Hybrids. She had no other choice. She turned around and wated to go back into the living room, when the scenario she saw made her stop in her tracks.

Jin was still lying peacefully on the couch, his chest was rhythmically falling up and down. Jungkook kneeled in front of the couch, so he could be at the same level as the sleeping boy. His hand was still holding Jin’s, as he had pushed himself further up, with his head buried into the creak of Jin’s neck and shoulder. He was slowly moving and rubbing his head along the sensitive skin, spreading his scent all over his brother.

Among Hybrids, scenting was one of the most intimate ways of showing his affection to one another.

The girl stayed silence in the kitchen, just watching how carefully and lovely Jungkook was threatening his brother. She absolutely didn’t want to ruin that moment between those two.

Jungkook spent the whole evening running around the apartment, making sure that Jin was okay. He got him some more blankets to cover his shaking body, pillows to make sure that he head was stable, he made him warm tea, that we always ended up drinking himself, because Jin was still sleeping.

It took the girl much to convince him to at least leave the couch and eat dinner with her at the table, but when his stomach growled loudly, he eventually showed insight and left the sofa.

“Jungkook, he is fine. “ He ripped his gaze away from his brother on the couch. “Come on, I bet Jin would want you to eat your food.”

Jungkook sighed loudly, ears hanging weakly at the side of his head. How could he eat peacefully, when he knew that his brother went through hell and back since his escape. If he just had stayed there, with is old owners, Jin would have never been treatened so badly. But he also would have never met Hope.

He looked up from his plate, just to see the girl looking at him worriedly. She seemed to be often concerned about him. He saw the way she would ask him if he was okay, or how she would tell him to eat enough when he said he wasn’t hungry, or how she would cry and try to conform him the night he broke down.

He didn’t mind though. Never, in his life someone had been worried about him. She gave him anything: a bed to sleep, foot to eat and just a place to feel safe and….home. Even though he had only known her for a little more than three weeks, he felt like this was the place where he belonged.

But even though he was happy she allowed him to live with her, there was also this other voice in his mind. The voice that always reminded him that he was only a guest in her house. And every guest had to leave at some point.

A shiver ran down his spine. He feared the day she would come to him and tell him that he and Jin had to leave. Where would they go? Would they have to go back to their old owners?

No, they were not their old owners. They still were their owners. And this meant that they would have to go back to them. He would never lay in his soft bed again. He would never read in his favourite book again, the one with this little daws and Hobbits. He would never look at the photo wall again, wishing that there was a phot of him and the girl, too.

“What is going on in your pretty little head?” Hope had carefully laid her hand on top of his, a small smirk played on her lips. “I can see your mind racing.”

“I just –“ He wanted to tell her his concerns, but he decided against it. Today was not the day he wanted to hear that they had to leave. “I just – thought about that Jin might be hungry. He looks pretty thin.”

“But he is asleep right now.” She squeezed his hands a little bit. “But as soon as he wakes up, he can eat as much as he wants, okay?”

The Hybrid forced out a small smile and nodded his head. He would just try to enjoy the time that he had left.

After dinner, Jungkook had gone straight back to the couch, curling up beside his brother. Not once this day had done anything else, besides lying next to Jin and waiting for him to wake up. It was cute to watch though. Jungkook had a big heart, and the girl knew that he wished for nothing more than to just get the love back he gave to others.

Earlier, when the witch had told her, that they had given Jungkook up for adoption, Hope had felt a giant stone falling from her heart. She had feared that they would still be looking for him, wanting him back at all it costs.

But with he being free to be adopted, she could sign his papers while re-registering Jin. Even though she had his papers and deed of ownership, she needed to report her adoption to an authority. But she wanted to wait for Jin to fully wake up before she would do so. After all, she didn’t know if he or Jungkook even wanted to be adopted again.

She couldn’t offer them a luxury life. She would first had to make herself a name in the lawyer business, which will take a lot of time, because Hybrid lawyer often don’t get much appreciation. But don’t matter what the both of them will decide, she would have to accept their wishes, even though it would break her heart.

With the bunny Hybrid in her apartment, it was the first time in years that she felt truly happy again. Since her mother had died and her friend moving away for college, she had felt alone in her life. There had been no one to wait for her until she came home from college or work, or someone with whom she could talk at the dinner table.

She truly enjoyed the time with the Hybrid.

She sighed, as she looked over to the sofa, where Jungkook was still curled up next to Jin, reading his favourite book. She smiled when she thought about his fascination with the Hobbits. He had found that book a few weeks ago, while scanning through her book shelf.

He had told her every day what happened in the book, and though she knew the plot of the book back and forth, she listened to everything he told her. Once he had been done with reading through the book, he just read it from the start again, not even thinking about tying another one.

“I think I will go to bed earlier. “ She said, as she made her way over to the sofa, holding a mug with Jungkook’s favourite tea in her hands. “I am pretty tired.”

The bunny looked up from his book. He watched her putting the mug on front of him at the small table, before she took a seat next to him at the sofa.

“Can I – “ Jungkook hesitated for a moment, before he began to speak again. “Can I sleep on the sofa tonight with Jin Hyung. I don’t want to let him alone. What if he wakes up and don’t knows where he is. Or if he –“

“Jungkook.” The girl stopped him, smiling slightly. “Of course you can sleep here. Shall I get your blanket and pillow?”

He quickly nodded, as a small shade of red began to spread over his cheeks. Hope stood up and walked over into his room. Jungkook was a very tidy and organized Hybrid. He made his bed every morning, every piece of clothes in his drawer was exactly folded and stacked up and he even had managed to organize her storage room, the so called ‘Chamber of secrets’, which she had failed to clean up for several years.

(Do you know on which scene from TBBT I am referring to? I love it :D)

She made her way over to the bed, carefully taking the blanket and pillow into her arms, trying to not carry it to close to her body, so her scent wouldn’t be all over it. A smile played on her lips, as she remembered the day when Jungkook insisted on washing Brian’s clothes, because he didn’t like to smell another male on his clothes.

When she turned around to go back to the living room, her eyes caught something on the Hybrid’s desk. Next to desk lamp laid the notebook she gave to Jungkook a few weeks ago. It wasn’t closed like, the open page pointing upwards.

She didn’t want to invite his privacy, but when she saw the sketched lines from the distance, she got curious. She often had wondered whether he was writing or sketching in there, when she watched his hands sliding wildly over the pages.

Hope took a few steps closer, looking back at the door to make sure Jungkook wouldn’t catch her looking at his private things. When she bent over the small back, her heart skipped a beat.

Jungkook had indeed sketched something. The lines were soft and accurate, taking all the space the page could offer. The picture had been drawing from the perspective when sitting at the dining table, the place where the bunny sometimes sat while she worked on her computer.

In the background, she recognized her kitchen, with the white fridge and the small hatch, and in the font ground she saw herself sitting. She was amazed by the precision he had drawn her hair falling over her shoulder and the feature of her face looking concentrated at the laptop in front of her.

Next to the her in the picture, he had written 4 capital letters. The letters were messy and scrawly, but she could read them without problems: 卄口ㄗモ

The girl’s heart swell with love. He had drawn her into his notebook, the place where he kept the deepest thoughts of his mind.

With the proudest smile on her face, she made her way back into the living room. She carefully placed the blanket over and pillow next to Jungkook, before she made her way over to Jin one last time, checking if he was okay.

When she was sure that everything was fine, she made her way over to the front door to turn off the great light in the room. The small lamp next to the TV was now the only source diving the room with cosy and warm light, just enough that Jungkook could still read his book.

“Good night Jungkook. Don’t read too long, you need your sleep.” She walked up behind him and bent down.

With her all braveness bundled, she pressed a short kiss on the top of his fluffy hair, before bending back up. Luckily, the room was dark enough to hide her reddening cheeks, as Jungkook looked up. He closed his small book, laying it to the side.

“Thank you for saving my brother.” He whispered, as he took her hands in his bigger one, squeezing them slightly.

“Anytime.“

When she woke up the next morning, the flat was unusually quiet. Normally, she was woken up by the dull tones of Jungkook’s boxing gloves hitting his punching bag. He would always wake up before her, already finishing his morning workout. She wondered every day, where he took his motivation from, but she didn’t mind though.

She changed into comfortable clothes, and carefully made her way up into the living room, trying to be as quiet as possible, in cases both Hybrids were still sleeping on the sofa. She tippy-toed through the hallway and peeked around the corner.

Jungkook was sprawled out on his back. He had his legs spread, and he blanket was only covering half his body, making his left leg stick out and hanging loosely off of the sofa. With his arms lying beside his head to either side, and his mouth slightly parted, and ears laying loosely on the sofa, he looked like someone had shot him.

Hope smiled at this scene in front of her, slightly shaking her head. It was nice to see how safe and comfortable he felt around here. She moved her gaze away from the bunny, and looked over to the other Hybrid lying on her couch. To her surprise, her eyes met big, brown orbs looking back at her.

“Good morning, Jin.” She said softly, as she went around the corner.

She tried to make her voice as smooth and warm as possible, showing him that she didn’t want to put any harm on him or Jungkook, after all, he didn’t know how happy Jungkook had been over the last weeks.

Jin, however, didn’t reply. His ears were pressed flat against his head, as he kept looking sceptically at the girl, before his gaze fell onto his naked upper body, that was half covered by a blanket.

“We had to take your shirt of yesterday.” The girl quickly said, knowing exactly what was going on in his head. “You have some pretty infected injures. I just wanted to wrap them up. I hope this was okay?”

He hesitated at first, but eventually nodded as a small shade of red covered his cheeks. He pulled the blanket, that had slide down his torso, up a little bit higher. It was obviously embarrassing for him to lay half naked on her couch.

“I think Jungkook wouldn’t mind borrowing you one of his shirts.” She quickly said. “I will get one for you.”

She turned around and got the shirt from Jungkook’s drawer, before going back and giving it to Jin. He carefully reached out and took the piece of hands out of her hands.

“I will just go and make some breakfast.” She was about to leave, before something came into her mind. “You can try waking up Jungkook. He wouldn’t want to miss eating his flakes.”

She made her way into the kitchen and started to prepare the breakfast as she always did each morning. Sometimes, she would hear some deep voices coming from the living room. Jungkook seemed to be awake by now.

“Kook, is it really safe here?” She heard Jin asking, as she was about to get the milk out of the fridge.

“It is, Hyung. Hope is the nicest girl in the world. She even gave me my own room and…” He kept rambling about the most normal things in the world, which made the girl even sadder. He shouldn’t be this exited to have his own bed to sleep in. She sighed and turned her attention back to the fried egg in the pan, before she heard Jungkook’s cracking voice“…I – I really missed you, Hyung. I thought that – that they – “

“Shh. It’s okay, Kook.” Jin whispered back. “I only wanted you to be safe.”

Hope gulped in the kitchen. She knew how much it hurt to loose someone you love. But she didn’t want to imagine how it must feel to not know if someone you love is dead or barely alive and tortured to death.

She waited another 5 minutes, making sure that she would not interrupt the moment, before she carried the pan into the dining room. Jungkook was just pulling away from hugging Jin , before he stood up and stretched his arms into the air, as well as his ears.

“Did you sleep well, Kookie?” The girl asked amused, as she pulled her chair back and took a seat.

Jungkook helped Jin up from the sofa, and led him the way over to the table by holding his hand. He pulled himself his chair back and sat down as well, gesturing for Jin to sat down, too.

“It’s okay.” The bunny said, as he saw Jin’s hesitation. “You can sit down and eat with us.”

Jin’s eyes flicked from Jungkook over to the girl, waiting for her to give him permission. Hope smiled softly at him, as she placed her mug back down and nodded at the standing boy. Jin hesitated again, before he carefully took a seat beside Jungkook, eyes never left the girl to make sure he didn’t do anything wrong.

“Do you want to try those flakes?” Jungkook held his bowl directly under Jin’s nose.

The older boy was clearly overwhelmed by the whole situation. His ears kept wildly twitching around, as he sniffed at the bowl, looking confused and scared at the same time.

“No.” He whispered, sinking his head down.

“But you must be hungry, Hyung!” Jungkook had placed his bowl back down in front of himself.

He was asking Jin all over again if he wanted to eat something and why he refused to eat something, but Jin just shook his head every time.

“Jungkook, don’t force him to eat something.” Jungkook dropped his ears but nodded, turning his attention to his own bowl, while the girl spoke now into Jin’s direction. “Jin, you don’t have to eat something if you don’t want to, but you are free to eat whenever and whatever you like. You don’t need to ask for my permission either. Just – do what makes you happy.”

Jin looked at her with wide eyes, still trying to figure out if she was serious or not. He nodded shyly, before he looked at the munching bunny next to him. Jungkook smiled with his mouth closed, before reaching over towards his orange juice. He lifted the glass and gestured for Jin to take it.

Jin’s eyes flicked towards the girl once again, but she avoid his gaze on purpose, pretending to be busy with her toast. With the slowest movement, Jin reached out for the glass, taking it out of Jungkook’s hand. He looked at it, before placing it on his lips.

While he drank, his eyes kept flickering between his brother and the girl, watching every movement form both of them closely. After his glass was empty, he carefully sat it back down on the table. Though he kept his gaze down, Hope saw his eyes flickering over to slices of bread lying in the small basket.

“You can take the bread, Jin.” As soon as she spoke his head shot up, as if he was caught doing something bad. “There is more than enough for the three of us.”

Jungkook confirmed her offer with a quick nod, and eventually, Jin reached his hand out to take a slice of bread. Though he refused to put something onto his bread, Hope was glad he eat something after all.

Breakfast went over without any other incidents. Jin kept munching at his bread, while the girl carefully introduced herself, telling him about her life like she did when she met Jungkook. Jin didn’t reply, he nodded from time to time, but stayed silent.

The only time he actually responded, was when she mentored how she had found Jungkook and taken him in. His ears dropped down onto his head.

“Thank you for saving Jungkook.” He had whispered, before bowing his head slightly.

Once they were done eating, Hope told Jungkook to give Jin a small tour while she would do the dishes. The bunny was more than eager to show his older brother everything in the house. He grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the table.

Hope watched with shaking head, as Jungkook dragged the confused boy into his own room, where she could hear him rambling nonstop about every little detail.

She turned her attention back towards the dishes in the sink. Later that say, she would have to call the authority, to make an appointment for re-registering Jin and signing Jungkook’s adopting papers, of course only if both of them will agree.

She didn’t want to bring the topic up this early. Jin had been here for not even one day. It would be hard for him to decide if he wanted to stay or not, and Jungkook would probably make the same decision as his brother, because he didn’t want to be separated from him again.

This meant she would set the appointment in about 1 week. Hopefully, this would be enough time for Jin to at least trust her enough.

“….And this is the photo wall.” She turned around and looked at Jungkook, who was still holding Jin’s hand. “This is my favourite wall of the entire apartment. I look at the photos every morning or when I am bored….”

She watched as she took a step closer, looking interested at the different photos. Hope honestly didn’t know why Jungkook was so fascinated about the photos hanging on the wall. Sometimes, she would watch him how he sat in front of that wall for over 30 minutes, just staring at the photos.

It was adorable thought. The picture surprise for his birthday was a good idea.

“….And this is Hope at her graduation party. Look, she was one of the best students in her year. She is so smart. And this is Hope and her mom at her mom’s birthday. But her mom died a few years ago. Hope is very sad about this, because she said her mom was the best mom in the world. And this are Hope’s friends from High School…..” Jungkook kept rambling about every single picture, talking about them as if they were the most precious things in the world.

Jin was still staring at the pictures, giving Hope the chance to watch his profile. He was as tall as Jungkook, but definitely slimmer than him. He had shaggy brown hair, that fell smoothly over his forehead. At the top of his head set a pair of fluffy, black, brown and white ears, that twitched back and forth.

It was just now, that the girl actually saw Jin’s tail. Since he was a Leopard, his tail was much longer. It reached about the almost the middle of his calves. It was covered with fluffy fur and black stripes all over.

She broke her staring when she noticed Jungkook finishing his monologue, not wanting to make her new guest uncomfortable.

“Hope!” Jungkook came running up excitingly at the girl when he saw her standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Where did this boy take his energy from all the time? “Jin-Hyung likes my room very much. I thought that he might can share my room with me?”

Hope wasn’t surprise by this question. She could tell that both of them were really close, even if she hadn’t known both for long.

“I – ehm – I can also sleep on the fl – “ Jin’s cheeks were covered in red, as he stuttered about sleeping on the floor.

“It’s okay, Jin.” The girl quickly interrupted him. “You can sleep wherever you want to sleep. If you want to share a room with Jungkook, that’s fine by me. There are also 2 more empty bedrooms, so if you change your mind, you can also sleep in there. It’s your choice.”

“Please, share a room with me, yeah?” Jungkook was squeezing and tugging Jin’s hand, begging him to sleep in his room.

“Okay, I – I will share.”

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175 notes · View notes

laviefantasie · 3 years

Text

140160 Hours

Pairings: Alive!Luke Patterson x Alive!Reader

Summary: What if ever since you were born in your wrist you had tattoed the counted time till' you met your soul mate?

| MASTERLIST |

According to the internet, a soulmate is a person with whom one has a feeling of deep or natural affinity. This may involve similarity, love, romance, platonic relationships, comfort, intimacy, sexuality, sexual activity, spirituality, compatibility and trust.

That is why the numbers on your wrist that counted down the time until you met your soulmate were important. Everybody was born with them.

And you weren’t the exception. As soon as you were born the numbers 140160 hrs had been engraved in your right wrist.

The numbers changing as you grew up.

You didn’t believe much on the soulmate deal. How could something so so random as a number in your wrist decide who you spent the rest of your life with?

Your mom and dad certainly were a good example of why it wouldn’t work. Soulmates or not, life can still throw its punches at you and your parents weren’t able to fight through them together.

When your wrist had the numbers 61320 hrs engraved on it your parents filed their divorce, your mom taking your full custody.

That definitely made you not look forward to finding your soulmate, especially after you saw how it had affected your parents.

Because even when their decision had been the right one —the constant fighting you had grown around of not being your best memories— it had made them lose a part of themselves.

Their souls yearning for the other’s warmth to feel —to be— complete.

That was the problem with meeting your soulmate, once you did the before didn’t exist anymore.

As soon as you met them, that part of you that had been longing for them, waiting for them, wakes up not allowing you to imaging life without the other.

You didn’t want that.

You were fine with your life as it was, concentrating on what you were truly passionate about: your music.

Who needed a soulmate?

You stared at both of your best friends in front of you in disbelief. Since you had met your next-door neighbor, Julie Molina, when you were nine you both had become instant friends.

Both of you had a love for music and Julie’s mom, Rose, made sure to teach you both everything she knew about it.

That is why your friendship with Julie had grown so much, both of you soon joined to the hip.

Your friendship with Carrie, on the other hand, was due to your mom being her dad’s producer. You had basically known the strawberry blonde your whole life.

Yet, somehow, you had never noticed the way the number on either of their wrists was changing as the day you had decided on introducing each other got closer.

And that’s why right now you found yourself staring with wide eyes at both your best friends, who stared at the 0 engraved on their wrists in awe.

“I... I was not expecting this” you whisper.

Your words are enough to make Carrie snap out of her daze and smile at Julie, with a special glint in her brown eyes.

“I-I am Carrie” she smiles sweetly at the hispanic.

Julie blushes under the other girl’s stare, “I’m J-Julie”

You roll your eyes before excusing yourself, going to sit on the stool on the cafeteria’s counter deciding they should have this time to properly meet each other.

At the end of the day, you only met your soulmate once.

You stare at them across the room, seeing how their smiles are a little bigger and their eyes a little brighter as they stare at one another.

How did that happen? Was it the sole fact that they knew they were in front of their soulmate what caused that effect?

What made meeting your soulmate such a life changing event? Was it because of the way the people talk about it? What made meeting your soulmate so different from meeting someone else other than the fact that you knew they were —somehow— destined to be with you?

Your e/c eyes move to your right wrist, the numbers 35040 hrs engraved on it in a black bold handwriting.

Was it weird that you dreaded the moment you met him or her? Was it weird that you wanted to date other people and decide by yourself who you wanted to be with?

You were just twelve years old, you couldn’t imagine yourself meeting someone and just knowing you wanted to be by that person’s side for your whole life.

That was just nonsense.

You found yourself running to the music room with Flynn and Carrie by your sides, Julie just having sent an SOS text to meet her there.

That had gotten the three best friends out of their seats in their Algebra class, ignoring your teacher’s protests, and running to the class you all liked to fool around so much in.

You were expecting to find the brunette crying her heart out or for her to be anxiously pacing around the room, you were definitely not expecting to see her jumping in excitement.

“I have a band!”

Her words made the three of you go from being confused to jumping in excitement with her, knowing the girl had been having a hard time with music since her mother died.

All of you had it hard, neither knowing how to live in a world without the mentoring and warmth of Rose Molina, but you all had been strong to be Julie’s rock. God knows how hard it had to be for her.

So they were definitely trill to hear that the girl they loved so much was finally happy again.

Carrie soon pulling her girlfriend in for a sweet kiss, before all of them soon tackle the Molina in a group hug.

Julie Molina had been fifteen when she had lost her mom. She had been fifteen the last time she had sung. It was after a year that Y/N had finally helped the brunette find her way to music again after finding a song her mother wrote for her when finally cleaning the studio —as neither of the Molina’s felt they could do it— so Mr. Molina could take pictures for the state agent.

Needless to say, once Julie heard about the song she couldn’t stay away from music anymore.

She sang.

After that, the girl had slowly started to come back to them. Now? Now she seemed to be back completely as she explained to them how is it she now had a band.

Apparently, you weren’t the only reason why she had decided to sing again. She had met a boy named Luke in the diner you guys love.

Said boy had been writing a song when —without meaning to— Julie had seen what he was writing and had helped him out on a verse he was working on.

She hadn’t meant to do it, it had just happened.

But that had made Luke follow her around, annoying her until she admitted she used to do music. After that, Reggie and Alex —the other boys of the band and apparently Luke’s best friends— had join Luke in trying to remind her what she loved about music.

The passion in the way they talked about music had awakened Julie’s curiosity for it, and when Y/N told her about the song she couldn’t resist.

She had been meeting with Luke to write songs behind their backs, Carrie scoffing in jealousy at that, before the boys had asked her to join Sunset Curve.

“We’re gonna change the band’s name though” admits the latina “A lot of things have changed for them, one of their bandmates left with Luke’s songs before they met me and that messed up with their sound”

“What about Julie and her Ghosts? Can’t believe you kept these guys a secret”

Julie noticing the jealous tone in her girlfriend’s voice, smiles before holding the strawberry blonde’s hand. Carrie soon smiling happily.

“I’m sorry I kept them from you” she apologizes “I’ve just been wanting to see if it’d work first, didn’t want to get all of your hopes up for nothing”

Flynn sighs before smiling towards her best friend, “It’s okay, Jules. When can we meet them then?”

“Today is the day you meet the ghosts” she smiles excitedly “Afterschool at the studio, that okay?”

You share a look with Carrie and Flynn before nodding with a smile.

“Let’s meet Julie and her Phantoms”

Unknowingly, to you your right wrist now had the numbers 6 hrs 37 mins on it, the exact amount of time before you’d find yourself walking through the white doors of Julie’s studio.

You had decided to stop looking at your wrist as soon as you had turned sixteen, making sure to cover it with as many bracelets as you could to avoid looking at it by mistake.

You didn’t want a soulmate.

Carrie, Flynn and Y/N were riding their bikes to Julie’s house while talking about how they thought the guys looked.

You all had agreed to meet to go to Julie’s house at 4 o’clock after going to your own homes to change clothes and were happily making your way to the place you had all once loved.

The three of you were excited to be on the studio again, you had even brought with you your songbook. You were excited to show Julie the songs you had written.

It had been so long since she had read your songs. Hopefully, you’d both be writing songs together again.

“I’m pretty sure they’re hot”

Flynn’s comment makes you and Carrie laugh out loud before coming to a stop in front of the Molina’s home. The three of you throwing your bikes on their yard.

“I’m serious! I’m thinking we’re about to see some well done boys in there, we should probably stop to check we’re presentable enough”

“Flynn, we’re already late to Julie’s band rehearsal” Carrie points out “No time to stop”

You feel your wrist tingle weirdly as you position yourself in front of your best friends while walking backwards to the studio.

Not knowing your wrist was tingling because the numbers on it were going down.

20, 19, 18, 17, 16...

“And if I may add, I believe we’re already looking quite hot” You smirk teasingly at them “As a matter of fact”

You’re almost at the studio, as the sound of an unknown melody becomes louder with every step you give.

15, 14, 13, 12, 11...

“I think they’re not ready for us” You state sassily “And they’re teenagers, how hot can they be?”

Flynn and Carrie stop, so you do too. The one with braids widening her eyes at the sight behind you.

“I think very very hot”

10, 9, 8, 7...

Seeing Carrie nod her head in agreement, you turn around to see what they mean. You e/c eyes finding Julie’s figure as she sings her heart out, oblivious to the three new arrivals.

Your heart start thumping loudly in your chest as your wrist starts tingling even more, which weirds you out but you choose to ignore it. Not noticing the way the guitarists looks weirded out too as he tries to keep his focus on the song they’re playing.

Your eyes soon move towards the blond drummer before going to the dark-haired bass player.

6, 5, 4, 3...

You admire them for a while before moving your eyes to the lead guitarist, your breath coming out quicker against your control.

Black vans, black ripped jeans with chains on them, black Rolling Stone’s sleeveless t-shirt, different colored bracelets on his wrists and many rings on his hand.

2...

Your eyes go from well built arms to shaggy brown untamed hair. The guitarist’s head turning as he feels his chest tighten with an unknown feeling.

1...

Luke shakes his head before trying to focus on the song once again, turning around to go back to his microphone stand his eyes find the three new people standing by the studio’s doors.

His bright green eyes soon meeting enchanting e/c eyes.

Luke’s hand stops playing abruptly, the rest of the band member stopping in confusion as the sound of the guitar fades.

Though Julie’s confused look soon becomes an excited one as she sees all of you by the doors.

“Girls!”

She runs excitedly towards you three, grabbing your hands not noticing the way your eyes don’t leave the ones of the green-eyed boy.

The tingling on both of your wrists gone.

“I’m so glad you’re finally here” she turns to the boys with a smile “Guys, these intruders are the bestest of friends in the whole world”

She points to all of you, “That is Carrie, my better half, that is Flynn, and this one over here is Y/N”

She then turns to the three girls, Carrie being the first to notice your wide eyes, “Girls, this Alex, Reggie, and Luke. Julie and the Phantoms, name credits go to you, Y/N/N”

“Y/N/N, you okay?”

Carrie’s question has your best friends looking towards you in worry, Alex and Reggie soon asking the same thing to a frozen Luke.

Though, it is Julie the one that notices the way your left hand grips your right wrist tightly. Getting close enough to you to pull your hand away and move your many bracelets.

A gasp escapes her as she graces at the black bold 0 on it.

Her brown eyes look towards your surprised ones as you still stare at Luke, not knowing exactly what is it you feel at that moment.

Reggie, being filled with curiosity, copies Julie’s actions with Luke. An awestruck look on his face as soon as he sees the 0 etched on his skin.

That seems to snap the guitarist from his shock, his green eyes moving towards his wrist in wonder.

As soon as you find yourself free from his gaze, you move your hand away from Julie and run out of the studio.

“Y/N!”

You ignore Julie’s screams for you and hop on your bike before pedaling to your house. Your heart beating loudly in your chest as you feel... empty.

Your eyes hadn’t become brighter and your smile hadn’t grown.

You hadn’t felt all the things they had ever told you you’d feel. All you had felt was fear. Fear of having a soulmate, fear of not knowing how to talk to said soulmate, fear of not being able to connect with said person.

A few days had passed since you had run out of Julie’s band rehearsal and you hadn’t bother to go see Julie when the band was there.

Your best friends trying to make you talk to Luke yet still supportive when you stated you weren’t ready. You wanted to believe it was because they understood but something told you it was because said boy probably didn’t want to see you just yet too.

That’s why you weren’t worried when you agreed to study with Julie that day, both of you finishing your assignments in record time before proceeding to look through your songs.

“These are amazing, Y/N/N” she smiles sweetly after finishing reading the song you never got to finish “Have you shown me this one before though? I feel like I’ve already read it”

You shake your head confused, you hadn’t shown that song to anyone. You had written it a long time ago when you had felt incredibly alone and had, for the first time, wished for you soulmate.

You hadn’t been able to finish it and soon you had forgotten it existed. Until a few days ago, meeting your —apparent— soulmate had made you look for the song.

You wanted to finish it but couldn’t for some reason.

“Never, Jules” she looks at you confused “Anyways, I had an idea for a piano intro for the first verse that I wanted to run by you first”

“Sure, just let me go upstairs to bring my stuff. And probably some snacks”

You nod your head before watching her leave. You sigh before gazing at the unfinished lyrics in your songbook annoyed.

Since when was finishing a song such a hard task?

With a scoff, you stand up from the couch and move to the piano with your songbook in hand. Soon accommodating yourself to start playing the song, hoping that would help you snap out of whatever writer’s block you had and finish it.

Softly, the chords you had in mind are played by you before your voice sings the first verse.

“Sometimes I think I'm falling down

I wanna cry, I'm callin' out

For one more try to feel alive”

Without your knowledge, a certain green-eyed boy stopped outside of the studio as soon as he heard you.

“And when I feel lost and alone

I know that I can make it home”

You look at the lyrics with a narrowed gaze before trying out the first words that come to mind when the memory of a pair of green eyes come to mind.

“Fight through the dark

And... find the spark”

The boy sneaks a glance at you, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he remembers the unfinished song in his black songbook.

The song he had started writing after a fight with her mom concerning the band. He had felt so sad that he had yearn the comfort of someone who understood his pain without knowing it.

You stop playing then let out a frustrated groan as you come out with nothing to add before making your way to your —incomplete— chorus.

“Life is a risk but I will take it

Close my eyes and jump”

Your eyes snap to the owner of the unknown voice, finding the green eyes you had been dreading —yet longing— to see.

You see him struggling for what to come next, finding you actually know what would go right after what he had just sung.

“Together I think that we can make it”

He looks at you in surprise before smiling and singing the end of what would be your song’s pre-chorus.

“Come on, let's run”

Neither of you move, both of you staring deeply into each other’s eyes. Julie, who had just arrived with snacks, quietly leaves you both knowing you were just about to realize why you were soulmates.

Luke coughs as a blush makes its way to his face before moving towards his songbook —the reason he had come to the studio in the first place— on his guitar’s amp.

You watch him quietly, him soon making his way towards you hesitating before taking a sit besides you on the piano.

You ignore the loud thumping of your heart as you feel your knees touch his.

His green eyes find your e/c ones before he opens his songbook, holding it out to you once he finds the song he wants to show you.

Bright

In times that I doubted myself

I felt likе I needed some help

Stuck in my hеad with nothing left

I feel something around me now

So unclear...

Life is a risk but I will take it

Close my eyes and jump

Come on, let's run

And rise through the night

Bright forever

And rise through the night

Bright forever

You felt your breath catch in your throat as you finally understand what’s written in his awful handwriting. The lyrics and melody matching your song perfectly.

You, wordlessly, push your songbook towards him, Luke soon reading it in wonder.

“How do you feel about Julie and the Phantoms getting a new song?”

It was safe to say that it was that night that you finally understood why all the fuzz going around about soulmates.

As Luke and you worked Bright together your eyes shined brighter and your smile never disappeared from your face. You had never felt so complete in your whole life.

And staring at the boyish grin on the brunette’s face as you finished singing the newly finish soon-to-be hit of the band, you couldn’t help but think that maybe —just maybe— having a soulmate wasn’t so bad.

#luke patterson #luke patterson x oc #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #julie and the phantoms #jatp #luke jatp #sunset curve #charlie gillespie

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princesspiratecat · 3 years

Photo

The Rise and Fall of the Shepard Family Finale Part 2: Fall 1085

Part 1& Part 2

Part 3 & Part 4

Part 5 & Part 6 & Part 7

Part 8 & Part 9 & Part 10

Part 11 & Part 12 & Part 13

Part 14 & Part 15 & Part 16

Part 17 & Part 18 & Part 19

Part 20 & Part 21 & Part 22

Part 23 & Part 24 & Part 25

Part 26 & Part 27 & Part 28

Part 29 Finale Part 1

“Llywelyn? His name is Llywelyn?” Frances was incredibly confused. “Where did you get these letters?”

“Under the bed. Morwena found them while she was cleaning. Please continue.”

Llywelyn & Algarda

According to the seven letters stashed away in the box, they had both been very young and had met while Llywelyn had served as a mercenary soldier under Aélgarda’s father, a Saxon Ealdorman that had died by the hand of the bastard King in 1067. Both of them had been in their prime and Aélgarda was considered something of a ginger-haired beauty. There were expectations that she would make a grand marriage.

Gwendolyn had heard her father talk about his time fighting for the Saxons before. Her mother had also said that her father had been a fine soldier. He was well respected and handsome, dangerous with a sword, and had a promising career ahead of him.

They had danced together during several feasts at her father’s estate in Chester, and eventually became clandestine lovers. They knew her father would never allow such a match to take place, as there had already been a match made for Aélgarda by the time they met. But the man in question was never mentioned again after the second letter.

They continued their affair for a little over two years, but he was gone most of the time. He eventually got her with child.

Shortly after, he had been sent up north to fight off Norse raiders, and he promised to come back for her and marry her as soon as he was able. Sometime after his departure she wrote that she had suffered a miscarriage, and after six months, he still had not returned. There were no more letters after that.

After they had read them all, and then read them again, they both took some time to digest what had been written. There seemed to be more questions than answers within each letter. Had Llywelyn followed Aélgarda, even though they were both already married? Was Frédérique the daughter of Llywelyn? Had they continued their affair after Gwendolyn’s mother had died? Together, Frances and Gwendolyn tried their best to sort out the pieces of the puzzle and make them fit into a kind of timeline that might give them answers.

“My father talked about his days in Chester on more than one occasion. Is it near Wales?”

“Yes. It’s near the border of Whales, west of here.”

“So, the man in the letters must be my father. Although my father couldn’t read, so how could he have read these? A third person would have had to have been involved, and they would have needed to be very discreet. That’s quite a risk to take!”

“I agree. Yet it happens all the time, you’d be surprised at how many Nobles can’t read. And yet, I would have taken the same risk if I knew I would not see you for months at a time.”

Frances knew that in 1066 Aélgarda ran off to marry Marcelle and gave birth to Frédérique the same year, which was when Gwendolyn had also been born. They journeyed to the Humber River in 1070 from Rotherham, a small market town. Frances had only been two and Gwendolyn four. Unlike Frances, Gwendolyn remembered the journey to Grimsby, and she remembered what had come after.

“It could not have been mere coincidence that your family arrived here around the same time, and in the same location, as my family. Especially considering how long of a journey it is,” he said.

They both wondered on what grounds Llywelyn had sought her out. Was it because they wanted to be together, or had he been looking for employment? Most of the great men Llywelyn had served were already dead or had had their lands seized by the crown. So it was a real possibility that he sought her out for protection, especially since she had married a Norman man.

“He needed work. I remember we had to sell one of his beloved swords just to have enough to eat. It was a desperate time.”

The other possibility was that he knew Frédérique was his daughter and wanted to be near her. Frédérique had invited Gwendolyn to their estate several times, and each time Llywelyn had accompanied her. He could have watched her from afar, and that might have been enough for him.

“That would explain my father’s behavior. He must have thought that Frédérique was not his child, regardless of what the truth really is. Since he knew of your father’s indiscretions with Olric’s wife, he must have also questioned my brother’s parentage as well! I can’t imagine how it must have plagued his mind! The proof is in his treatment of them and their piteous inheritance.”

“Of course! And it completely explains his treatment of me, although it does also speak to his vengeful character. Now I understand why he sent us away, we were reminders of my father. Your mother wanted to protect us, for my father’s sake! ”

He nodded, remembering everything that had happened with a tinge of shame.

He could see Gwendolyn’s mind racing now, and Frances knew he would have to tell her everything that had happened the night his father had broken off their engagement. It was something he had not gotten around to doing, mostly because he had wanted them to forget. He took a deep breath.

“I fear I have not told you everything that my father said the night he cut off our engagement. But let me tell you now. According to him, she actually wanted us to marry and had pushed it from nearly the moment you arrived here.”

“What?!”

He then relayed everything that had occurred that night in it’s entirety. How his mother long considered Llywelyn an honorable man due to his serving the Welsh king. How she had not only preferred for him a match with Gwendolyn over the Merchants, but that she had actually helped to arrange it. He told her of his anger and how he had camped out under the stars, which had been the reason why he never got a chance to say goodbye.

“For a long time I didn’t think about what he meant, because I had been too angry. But then I realized she had arranged for us to walk together, alone. Do you remember all those times she said she was too busy to come with us?” Gwendolyn nodded. “Well, she knew I already liked you, and wanted you to break off the match with Oswald and marry me instead. She must have figured that time alone together would make us fall in love.”

“That is why they sent him away! According to Frédérique, he came to visit me twice, and both times he had been sent away. Did you know that?”

“No. But it hardly surprises me. For his part, I know my father initially agreed because you had a good dowry, you were an heiress of a rather small fortune. But after he had already helped himself to it, he must have gotten ahold of the letters and used them to further justify his cause. Or, he read the letters and then spent your dowry. I’m not sure which.”

Gwendolyn’s eyes bulged at this information, and she had to sit down. It was an incredible story, and one that she would not have believed if she had not have seen it unfold with her own eyes.

“So, I have been groomed me for the position of being your wife! Why did you not tell me of this before?!”

Frances shrugged. “It is a painful memory to speak of, and I didn’t want to stir up fresh anguish for you. You’ve suffered enough already. What good would have come of it?” Gwendolyn acknowledged there was merit in his reason, but chided him for not giving her the choice of knowing.

“You’re right. I should have told you when I first found you. I’m sorry.” But her mind was racing again and she hardly heard what he had said.

“He must have discovered the letters after Aélgarda’s death, as there can be no other explanation. She must have hidden them away somewhere and he, or someone else, discovered them. He refused our marriage and sent me away to get back at them both, even after they were dead!”

“Yes, he was petty and vengeful. What I want to know is what on earth made her keep them? That I cannot understand! Did your father return them? Or did she somehow get them back after he died? Maybe Llywelyn had them and my father got them after he sold your property. Have you ever seen this box before?”

“No, never. It’s too fine a box to have escaped my notice. If he did have them, he certainly would not have put them in that box. In fact, I do not recall her ever visiting us when my father was alive either. Only Marcelle came to collect rents and sup with us. He and my father used to talk business. He used to bring us cherries.”

Neither one of them spoke for some time, as they were busy going over the facts in their own heads. They both agreed that had Marcelle known then about the letters, he would not have been so kind. Although Frances didn’t agree with his father’s ways, he could at least understand him a bit better.

“He never was unfaithful to my Mother that any of us knew about, so it must have shattered him to read these letters. He had once loved her very much... as much as a man like my father can love anyone. I do not believe that any of my siblings were sired by Llywelyn- not even Frédérique. We look too much alike, and I see nothing of you in her face. Now that I think of it, you were born the same year as Frédérique, so Llywelyn would have had to have been a very busy man for all that to have happened in only a year! And it means my mother would have had to lie about losing her baby. Yet if she loved him, why would she do that? It’s quite clear from the letters that she loved him very much.”

“Unless she thought she would never see him again. She may have lied in order to marry your Father, whom had come from a noble family. Perhaps she figured that she would be better off with a well connected Norman than a poor Welsh solider. She could have been forced to do it for the greater good, to protect your sister.”

“I doubt it. But it is possible.....” a look of worry crossed his face, and then hint of anger.

In the end they both agreed that no good could possibly come from keeping the letters, as it called into question the parentage of too many. It also painted three of their four parents in a very unfavorable light.

The facts were there. Aélgarda had been lovers with not one, but two men while engaged to someone else of her father’s choosing. Llywelyn had been a seducer of women and clearly had no respect for the marital status of others. Marcelle had been a miser and a thief who sought revenge on helpless children, even children that were most likely his own.

Frances lifted the parchment to the fireplace and stared at the contents. It angered him to know that such small things had caused so much anguish to him, and his wife especially.

“Let them burn,” he sneered, as he tossed one of the letters into the fire. “I know the truth. I know what a good wife she was to him, and what she meant to us, and that’s really all that matters. She was no whore, and I won’t have anyone speak of her that way, ever!”

“Let us burn them all,” Gwendolyn said.

When the house was quiet and still, they made their way downstairs and watched as the fire flickered while hungrily devouring the remaining letters. It went unspoken, but they each understood they would tell no one of them.

“Are you ashamed of our parents?” He asked her while he watched the bright orange light reflected in her eyes. It was one of those rare moments that he really had no idea what she was thinking. He pulled up chairs for them both so they could sit awhile without being heard.

“Yes....and no. In some ways I am shocked, but in others, I feel relieved to know the answers now. Your father’s behavior towards myself had always weighed on me, because I blamed myself. Now I know it was because of nothing I did, but because of what I represented. He used my father’s status as an excuse, but it was really not the reason.” She pinched the corners of her mouth, then turned back to the fire.

“Yet the feeling that seems to make the biggest impression on me, is one of their love. Despite everything, I’m glad they had been lovers, and I’m happy that she still held my father in high regard even after his death. She wanted to honor him by honoring his children, and for that, I will always honor her.” Her heart felt easier now, and she almost found the situation humorous. Almost.

They treaded up the stairs to their chambers. It had been a long, exhausting evening.

Gwendolyn chuckled to herself. “What I really want to know is, who was the man she was originally engaged to? He must have been quite awful for her to have chosen a mercenary soldier and a Norman over a match her father preferred! The poor fellow. I feel a bit bad for him.”

Frances was more wistful. He didn’t like talking about his family, as there was so much he didn’t know, and so much to resent. Would they have survived if they had allied with the King or a powerful Norman family such as his father’s? What would it take for the King to stop his sheer brutality to the Saxon people? By the time his reign was over, would there be anything left of their language, or laws, or culture?

“Perhaps he died before anything ever came of it. The Saxons paid a heavy price to the Danes with many lives, even before the King conquered these lands. And after, all of the men on her side were completely wiped away, as if they had never existed at all. Their fortunes, that had taken decades to build, were the first thing to go. Her family was one of the wealthiest and most powerful, and now there is nothing but dust. Sometimes I wonder that I was born at all. It truly seems a miracle.”

She sensed his sadness and caressed his cheek, then embraced him.

“It is a miracle. You’re a testament to the power of love amid war. Whatever happens in the world, love always seems to have a way of burning bright, sometimes even against all odds.” He smiled at her words because they were wise beyond her years, and they were true. He thought of his mother then, and how it was love that had driven and guided her throughout most of her life.

She had gotten her wish.

#sims 2 stories #sims 2 challenges #sims 2 pictures #finale

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your-eternal-muse · 4 years

Text

Half As Pretty

Heather Series Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

The Song Mentioned in the chapter, Poison and Wine by The Civil Wars aka, the song that made me sob because it was too perfect for this damn fic. I recommend listening to it while you read the part its mentioned in.

Summery: Reader is experiencing her own personal hell, but one midnight confession sets everything ablaze.

Words: 3.4k I told y’all it’d be longer.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of nicotine addiction, the beginning of an alcohol addiction, suicidal thoughts, slight manipulation from one Derek Morgan, and just a whole lotta hurt.

Paring: Spencer Reid x Heather Charmical, eventual (I promise) Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

A/N: Okay.....I’m finna be real honest.....I was listening to my music on shuffle when Poison and Wine came on, and I started crying while typing, and than I re-listened to it while typing this up and proceeded to cry again. It took me about 3 minutes of psyching myself up to write ONE sentence near the end of it because I knew there was no going back once I wrote it. This was so hard to write in the most beautiful way possible, and I really hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Shout out to @toosassy2handle for the recommendation of Heather's last name. It’s long and annoying and just reminds me of a stuck up bitch so its perfect.

~~~~~~

I used to love weddings.

They were always so well put together.

I’d always admire the pretty bride, the dress, everything.

I dreamed of having one of my own one day. And when I met Spencer, those daydreams changed so that I was walking down the aisle towards him instead of someone whose face I could never quite focus on.

But that’s all I’m ever going to have. Daydreams.

Because here I sit, all dolled up next to his mother, at none other than Spencer Reid’s wedding.

It’s obvious Heather did most of the planning.

I don’t take him as a ‘dusty rose’ type of person.

I stare at the soft colors and delicate flowers, and fire burns deep within me.

I want to burn this place to the ground.

I can’t, though.

I’m supportive.

I’m happy for Spencer.

I’m happy that he’s happy.

I’m happy.

I look down at my hands, playing with the hem of my burgundy party dress.

I don’t think I’ve been this dressed up since….

I think I threw that dress away when I got home that night.

I don’t remember much of that night after coming back to the table.

I’m positive I drank at least half the champagne they had.

Derek had to carry me home.

“My son didn’t plan any of this.”

I look over, and see Diana scowling at the decor.

I can’t help but let a small smile spread across my face.

At least she agrees with me.

I lean in closer to her, so our words can only be heard by us.

“I completely agree. He’s more of a ‘dark academia’ kind of guy.”

She smiles at me, reaching her hand over, and patting my leg. “You know when he told me he was getting married, I thought it was going to be to you.”

My heart stops. “Y-You did?”

She nods, looking around the room like she hadn’t just said something that made my world stop spinning. “I didn’t meet Heather until a week after he told me. That’s when I learned that they were dating in the first place. I can’t say I wasn’t disappointed.”

I bring a hand up to my mouth, covering the smile and laugh threatening to spill.

“But she makes him happy. Anyone can see that.”

The smile falls, and the laugh dies.

“Though, he did bring you to meet me not too long after meeting you himself.”

I nod, remembering the trip. “It had been a month. I had known him for a month, and he really wanted me to meet you. I was so nervous. I really wanted you to like me.”

Her smile is big, and her hand finds one laying in my lap, squeezing it.

“I liked you the minute he told me about you.”

I loved Diana.

I will always love Diana.

I open my mouth to say something, but someone a few rows back says ‘Here comes the groom.’

I turn my head, and low and behold, there he is, walking with the biggest smile on his face towards the front. He stands, with his hands clasped in front of him, as he waits like the rest of us.

He looks stunning, in a simple black and white tux.

His eyes meet mine, and I smile at him.

He winks back at me.

The moment doesn’t last long before a song starts, and a hush falls over the crowd.

Slowly, one by one, bridesmaids and groomsmen make their way down the aisle.

Derek is the best man, and he pats Spencer's shoulder as he takes his position behind him.

And then the music shifts, and while she starts to walk, something dawns on me.

I will never be as pretty as she is.

She’s breathtaking.

She’s practically glowing in the white satin ballgown, a bouquet of roses clutched in her hands.

She’s looking around at the crowd, smiling and nodding and it’s only when she’s halfway down the aisle that she meets his eyes.

I look at him, and I don’t think there are any words that can explain the look of pure joy written across his face.

JJ, who is sitting beside me, reaches over and grabs my free hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

She reaches the front, and all eyes are trained on her, but I can’t tear mine away from him.

He holds her hand so delicately, and I can see him fighting back tears.

I don’t even notice when vows are said and rings are exchanged. I only notice when I see JJ look at me from the corner of her eye as the officiant says “If anyone has any objection to the marriage of these two people, speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

For a moment, I think about it.

“Me! I do!”

The crowd gasps as I make my way towards the front.

“I do. I object.”

His eyes are wide and she looks furious.

“Why do you object?” The officiant says, startled.

“Because I love you.” I’m looking directly at him.

“I love you, Spencer.”

No.

No, I can’t.

I’d lose everything.

You’d be a selfish bitch is what you would be.

“Then do you, Heather Charmical, take Spencer Reid to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

Tears are lipping out of my eyes, though my eyes are not the only wet ones in the room.

I can blame it on the emotions. I wouldn’t be technically lying.

“And do you, Spencer Reid, take Heather Charmical, to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Please say no.

“I do.”

I don’t have a heart anymore.

This just confirmed it.

“Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

He takes her face between her hands, and places his lips on hers in a passionate kiss.

That’s it.

They’re married.

People clap and cheer, and they lock hands, walking back down the aisle, now together by law.

I want to puke.

People start to get up, and I suddenly can’t breath.

My chest rises and falls, and I shoot a glance at JJ, before making my way through the crowd as respectively as possible to leave the room as quickly as I can.

I look down to my bag once I make my way into the vast hallway, digging and searching for my cigarettes when I ram into someone, dropping my purse, and spilling the contents over the smooth tile floor.

“Fuck.”

“Hey hey hey, what’s the rush baby girl?”

I look up to see Derek, kneeling down to help me pick up my stuff.

“I just, I just um,”

Breath, y/n, just fucking breath.

“I just really need to find a bathroom. I shouldn’t have drank all that tea before coming here.”

I shove things back into my purse, not even really looking, before standing back up.

“I’ll find you and Pen in a bit. Promise.”

I don’t wait for him to answer, turning and walking away before he gets a chance to speak.

I’ll find a bathroom eventually.

~~~~

When is an appropriate time to leave the wedding of your best friend, whom you're secretly in love with, without seeming rude?

Because I need to leave.

I’m afraid of what I’ll do if I don’t.

My right leg is crossed over my left, shaking with every anxious heartbeat.

People have plates full of food, and are mingling with drinks from the open bar, another thing that I know for a fact Spencer had nothing to do with.

I’ve barely touched the food on my plate, my appetite gone, at least not for anything other than the fruity little cocktails that keep appearing in front of me.

I’m about to get up and find someone, probably JJ, that I got sick in the ladies room, and to tell Spencer I’m sorry, when he walks up to where I’m seated, his hand outstretched for me.

“Come dance with me.”

The liquor in my system makes me giggle.

“I thought you didn’t like dancing?”

“I’ll make an exception for my favorite girl.”

Don’t let Heather hear you say that.

I place my hand in his, and let him lead me to the dance floor, where he spins me, before bringing me in close to him, resting a hand on my hip, and grasping my left hand with his other.

My hand not in his rests comfortably on his upper arm, and we sway, back and forth to the soft music.

My heart is pounding in my chest, and I’m positive he can feel every heartbeat through the layers of our clothing.

The lights are soft, and the music is gentle. If I close my eyes, and don’t think about it, I can imagine that this is our first dance, at our wedding that will never happen.

“Thank you, for coming y/n.”

My eyes open, and I can’t hide from him anymore. His eyes don’t falter from my own, and his smile is small.

“Of course I’d come. Why wouldn’t you think I would?”

“I don’t know. You’ve seemed off these past couple months. I didn’t know if you’d be up for it.”

Shit shit shit.

I laugh off my panic. “Spence, I could be bleeding out on my apartment floor, and I would still make it here. You mean everything to me. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He grimaces at the thought of me dying, but the words that follow erase the worry on his face. “You’d tell me if something was wrong right? Everything’s okay?”

I smile at him, placing my head against his shoulder so I don’t have to look him in the eye when I lie. “Everything is fine. I’m okay. I promise.”

You’ve gotten way too good at lying to him. What’s gonna happen when he finds out? About your secret? About how it's getting harder and harder for you to get out of bed in the morning because it’s just not worth it anymore? Or about your depleting alcohol cabinet, since every night you seem to think drowning out your sorrows will make it easier to sleep?

He rests his chin on my head and we just sway back and forth to the music.

His fingers start gently playing with my own, and I hear him softly singing to himself as we dance.

“Oh, your hands can heal, your hands can bruise.” His hand moves from my hip to my lower back, holding me there against him as he continues to sing.

“I don’t have a choice, but I still choose you.”

I move my face farther into his shoulder, like I could disappear if I wanted to. This feels too intimate, feels too wrong. I should step away and congratulate him, tell him to go find his wife for god's sake, and leave with my dignity still intact.

But I don’t want to. I’ve dreamed of him holding me like this, and the words he’s whispering I know are for only me to hear.

“Oh I don’t love you, but I always will. I don’t love you, but I always will.”

Whoever the dj is, deserves a raise, because while this song is totally not for a wedding, it’s perfect for this moment.

“I always will. I always will.”

The song ends, and we stand, still together, for a second longer than we probably should.

“I’m sorry to break you two up, but I was wondering if I could convince my son to dance with his mother.”

Diana’s voice is soft, and I smile against his shoulder before moving back, removing myself from him.

His eyes are wet.

“Of course, Diana. He’s all yours.”

She turns to me before I walk away, pushing stray hairs out of my face, fixing my necklaces and smoothing out my dress. “Heather looked like she was about to burst into flames. I thought I’d save you from a public sacrifice.”

Fuck.

“Thank you, Diana.”

She kisses my forehead before turning back to Spencer, and I use the time to walk back over to my table, grab my purse and make my way out of the room.

I find a balcony of sorts, and the cool December air cools my skin.

I once again dig through my purse to find my cigarettes, pulling out the pack once I do. When I open it, however, I find it empty.

I smoked my last one and didn’t even realize it.

“Damnit!” I crush it in my hands, before placing it back in my purse.

The sun is setting, and I can see my breath.

I walk forward to the stone railing, looking out over the small park below the building. The stone is rough beneath my palms, and dark spots appear as I cry for the second time today.

I don’t have a choice, but I still choose you.

He couldn’t have meant it the way I’m thinking he meant it. He was just singing along to a song he’s probably heard thousands of times the past couple months.

But it’s too perfect not to.

Is it possible? Did he love me? If he did, does he still love me?

“Aren’t you cold, sweetheart?” Derek’s voice startles me, and I jump a little.

“Uh, no. It feels nice. It was getting a little stuffy in there so I thought I would come get some air.”

He hums, and walks up to stand beside me, his hands in his pockets.

“You know, when you dropped your purse earlier, an envelope fell out.”

My eyes widen.

“It didn’t have anything written on it, so I just assumed it was for Spencer and Heather and put it with the others. You seemed like you had other things on your mind so I thought I’d help.”

No no no no no no no no this isn’t happening. This isn’t real, he didn’t just give my love confession to the now married man it’s about and his wife. Oh my god, I’m gonna die.

“Y-You what?! No no no, that wasn’t meant for them. No no no. Holy shit.” I start pacing back and forth, combing my hands through what little of my hair was down.

“I need to go get it. He’ll understand. It’s just a big mix up. He can’t have that envelope.”

I turn ready to run back into that room and make a scene when Derek speaks from behind me.

“You mean this envelope?” I turn and there he stands, holding it in his hand.

My stomach rises from my feet. “Jesus fucking christ, Morgan. That’s not fucking funny.” I walk forward to grab it, but he’s taller than I am, and raises it out of my reach. “I never said it was.”

“Give it back, Derek.” Even in heels I can’t quite reach his hand.

“I will, once you tell me what's in it that gets you so worked up at the thought of Spencer having it.”

I don’t meet his eye as I reach for it again. “It’s nothing. It’s none of your business.”

“Baby girl, I see the way you look at him.” He grabs my wrist with his free hand, lowers himself so he can look at me straight on. “And that dance that you two just had? That’s not nothing and you know it.”

My lip trembles and I remove my arm from his grasp, walking back to the railing.

If you jump, this could all end. You wouldn’t have to explain anything. It's a perfect cop out.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, my voice shuddery when I talk. “You have to promise not to tell anyone. Not even Penelope. And especially not Spencer.”

He stands close by my side, his eyes on my face as I stare out over the park. “I promise.”

Is this what having a heart attack feels like?

I take a short breath in, it's all I can muster, and speak.

“It’s a confession. I’m horrible with words, so I wrote it down to give it to him.”

“What were you confessing?”

Tears resume to fall down my face, and I pinch at my cuticles. “That I’m in love with him.”

I feel Derek shift to look down at the railing, the envelope placed in between us.

“I confessed that I’m in love with him. That I have been since the moment I met him. I know how horrible it is, I know but I couldn’t keep it in any longer. Even if he never finds out, I needed to put it out there that I love him.”

“You’re in love with me?”

I choke on my breath, and my nails dig into the stone.

No. Please no. Please tell me this is all just a nightmare, and I’ll wake up this morning and it’ll have never happened.

My body is frozen, but I manage to turn to see him standing in the doorway, a look of pure shock written across his face.

He looks like I just slapped him.

“Spencer, oh my god.” It’s nothing more than a whisper, but it feels like a scream ripping from my chest.

“Y-You’re in love with me? When-, I-,” he runs his hands through his hair, and takes a step forward.

I'm sobbing, and I can’t stop. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was never supposed to happen. “Spencer, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t plan on you finding out like this.”

“When were you going to tell me?” His voice cracks, and I realize then that he’s not angry. He’s hurt.

I have to be honest with him now. I can’t lie to him. It’s over. The ruse is over.

I’m finished.

My fists clench and unclench as I try my best to keep my emotions under control.

“I was going to tell you the day you introduced me to Heather.”

His eyes flicker to the envelope resting on the railing, and they gloss over for a second as he remembers that day.

“You told me-”

“I lied. I lied and said it was for my mom, but it wasn’t.” I cross my arms in front of me, a chill settling itself on my skin.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I wish his voice would get louder. I wish he would scream at me. I deserve to be screamed at.

“You were dating someone, Spencer. You had been dating someone, and you had just introduced me to her. What would you have wanted me to do?”

“Not lie to me!” There we go. Get angry. Hate me.

“Why? What would you have done!? What would have happened if I didn’t care about your relationship with her and just given it to you?”

It’s getting darker, and the light pouring outside from the building is the only one to see by, so I can’t really make out his face.

“I don’t know! I have no idea of knowing, but I do know that I wish you wouldn’t have lied to me. You’ve been hiding from me, Y/N. Please stop hiding from me. I can help you.”

I roll my eyes, my vision going blurry from the tears. “No you can’t Spencer. You’re married. Did you forget that?”

He’s quiet, and I can see Derek shift his gaze from between us, not really knowing what to do.

His voice is substantially softer when he speaks next.

“Give me the letter.”

I choke back the noisy sobs. “No.”

He repeats himself, holding out his hand.

“Please, give me the letter.”

“Why?” I’m exhausted. Can’t this conversation just end?

“Because I need to know that you loved me like I loved you.”

Loved?

He just told you to your face, that while he may have loved you once upon a time, he doesn’t anymore. He doesn’t love you anymore. He doesn’t love you.

I can’t fight this anymore.

“Please don’t hide from me anymore.” He pleads, and I can feel myself beginning to go numb. Whether it’s from the cold, or my mind starting to shut down, I have no idea.

I grab the envelope from where it sits, walking forward and handing it to him.

He brings it to his jacket, tucking it safe inside one of the pockets.

“I’ll call you. Okay? And we can talk this out.”

There’s no talking this out, Spencer. What’s done is done.

He looks between me and Derek, and without another word, he walks back into the building, shoulders tense, and head down.

This is it. This is the end of the line. Nothing will be the same.

“Y/n….”

I don’t respond. I just turn, grabbing my purse and walking down the stairway the leads to the park from the balcony.

My tears leave hot streaks against my cold skin.

A snowflake lands on my nose.

~~~

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puckinghell · 3 years

Text

Meet The Family | Elias Pettersson (drabble)

This was born out of a conversation with @hockeyboysiguess about Elias having nice hands and Thanksgiving dinners. But I’m not American so we’re turning it into Christmas. Not proofread we die like men and I’m in 4 g&t’s. Enjoy.

“You seem nervous,” Elias states, eyes fixed on the road and hands loosely wrapped around the wheel. “More nervous than me.”

It’s not a question, it’s a statement, and you can’t help but feel slightly annoyed.

It’s not that he’s wrong, it’s just that you really hoped you wouldn’t have to tell him beforehand.

“It’s nothing bad,” you answer. You toy with your bracelet, that Elias gave you as an early Christmas present. Your quiet voice and constant fidgeting probably doesn’t fortify your statement, because Elias glances over at you now, just for a few seconds, before returning his attention to the traffic around you again.

“Are you worried they won’t like me?” he asks. It’s casual, but the kinda faux-casual that you can see straight through.

“Quite the opposite, actually.”

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. Elias can’t go home for Christmas, not all the way to Sweden. And after three months of dating - and a few months of friendship before that - it doesn’t feel like too soon, for him to meet your family.

He was excited, when you asked him to come to your family gathering. Every year your entire family meets at your parents’ house; siblings and nieces and nephews and aunts and uncles, even a few family pets. And you were excited too. Elias, well, you’ve known he’s the one for you since the day you met him, and there’s no doubt in your mind that he’s going to be in your life for a long time. So why not introduce him to your family?

But now doubt is starting to set in.

Elias frowns at your words. “The opposite? What does that mean?”

But there’s really no way to explain. And anyway, you’re almost there.

“You’ll see,” you say, and it sounds more omnious than you wanted it to.

The gravel crunches beneath your feet as you walk up to the front door, Elias trailing just a step behind you. You reach blindly behind you and instantly his hand grabs onto yours, squeezing tightly before letting go just as you step into the house.

Noise welcomes you. There’s happy chatter and Christmas music in the background; a kid is yelling and someone laughs. It’s warm and there’s lights everywhere and it feels so much like home that a wave of nostalgia hits you.

“Who is it?” a familiar voice calls, and before you can answer your mom appears in the door to the hallway, where you’re still stomping the snow off your boots.

“Hey, mom.”

Your mom’s smile remains intact when her eyes fall upon the tall Swede behind you, but her widening eyes don’t do well to hide her surprise. Neither, to be fair, does the: “Oh my God honey she brought Elias!”

Elias’ eyebrows shoot up and you can’t stop the groan from escaping as your mom completely ignores your existence, simply speedwalks back into the living room, where all the chatter has suddenly died down.

“I thought you told her I was coming,” Elias says, the question clear in his voice.

And you were supposed to, but…

“I just kinda didn’t wanna deal with all the questions,” you admit. You take Elias’ coat and hang it together with yours, before taking a deep breath in. “I’ll try to protect you, okay?”

If his eyebrows could get any higher you’re sure it would’ve happened, but instead Elias just continues to look slightly baffled as you take his hand and pull him into the living room, where many pairs of eyes are already fixed on you.

The silence is deafening.

“Hey guys,” you smile, letting your eyes travel over the attendees. The only one that’s moving is your dog Bella, tail wagging as she gets up to go say hello. “This is my boyfriend, Elias.”

Everything happens very quickly, then.

Before you know it, your boyfriend is swarmed by family members, some of whom seem to have magically conjured up some sort of Canucks merch for him to sign. Your cousins are screaming their heads off, jumping up and down at his feet, and your sister is taking pictures of it all with an enthusiasm you haven’t seen from her in years.

Over the crowd, Elias’ eyes frantically search for yours.

Sorry, you mouth, shrugging your shoulders. This was exactly the thing that you were afraid of.

When you told Elias your family are lifelong Canucks fans, you might’ve neglected to tell him just how much.

But to be fair to him, Elias takes it in stride. You know he’s not a big fan of crowds of people, nor of people he doesn’t know. Your family speaks in too rapid English, leaving Elias looking a little bewildered. Well, to you anyway; to any other person he’d look completely fine, stoic and unbothered, but you know him well enough to recognize the tight set of his jaw.

It gets better once the adults have gone back to their conversations. Your aunt is telling you about her pottery class when your eyes find Elias through the window, out on the lawn.

He’s surrounded by all your cousins, ministicks in hand. Every time one of the kids bats a ball his way, Elias blatantly misses it, then pretends to be upset about it while the kids scream with laughter.

Your face must’ve spoken for you, because your aunt cuts herself off midway through her story.

“He’s good with kids,” she smiles, gaze traveling to the scene you’re focused on. “I think he prefers them to us old guys.”

You laugh. “I’m sure he’ll love you when he gets to know you. There’s just a lot of you right now, and I think dad is embarrassing himself.”

Considering the fact that your dad is now wearing a signed Pettersson jersey, that might even be putting it lightly.

Outside, Elias squads down next to one of your nieces. He covers her tiny hand with his large one, carefully moving it so she’s holding her stick in a more comfortable position. He says something and she laughs, little eyes shining with delight.

“You really like him,” your aunt states, and she’s not asking but you answer her anyway.

“I love him, yeah.”

It’s hours later when you walk into the kitchen, getting a glass of water, that you find your boyfriend again.

The kids have long gone to bed but it seems that Elias has found another small creature to befriend. He’s sitting on the floor, leaning against the fridge with a glass of red wine in his hands, quietly feeding Bella pieces of turkey.

“Bonding with the best member of the family?” It’s a joke but there’s a genuine question in it too and Elias seems to be able to tell, a gentle smile on his face as he pats the floor next to him.

You go easily, pressing your body against his. He’s warm and his cheeks are slightly flushed, although the red wine might have had something to do with that too.

“Trying to find some peace and quiet,” Elias muses, tearing off another piece of turkey that Bella happily accepts. “Since my girlfriend left me to fend for myself.”

Now you’re blushing, and it has nothing to do with the wine.

“I didn’t want it to seem like I was surveiling you,” you admit a little sheepishly. “Figured you would come find me if it got too much.”

Elias laughs. It sounds bright in the quiet kitchen, the background noise from the living room suddenly very far away. “I can deal with it.”

“I know.” And you do; it’s the only reason you dared to bring him here in the first place. Elias might not be the most extraverted person in the world, but he’s very good with people when he wants to be. You let your head fall against his shoulder. Tiredness is settling in your body, after a night catching up with everyone.

“I’m sorry if it was too much. They can get very overwhelming, even for me, and they’re not even your family, so…”

“They’re your family, though,” Elias interrupts, voice soft. “And that means that one day they hopefully will be mine, too. So it’s okay. It’s good, even.”

Your chest feels strangely warm at his words; you knew you felt like that, but to hear him say he feels it too is a whole different level of amazing.

“But,” Elias hums, and you can tell from the switch in his tone of voice that he’s gonna say something cheeky, “if you would like to thank me for being the source of entertainment tonight I can think of a few things.”

You laugh, letting your hand travel to his thigh and rest there. “I can think of some things too,” you tease, “but none that are acceptable in my parents’ kitchen.”

Elias’ eyes darken slightly. “Maybe it’s time to go home then,” he says, and he doesn’t even remotely sound like he’s kidding.

This time when you laugh you bury your face in his neck, pressing a kiss to the skin there. “Not yet,” you tell him, “but if you can refrain from beating my dad to death with the hockey stick he’s surely gonna ask you to sign, I might make it worth your while later tonight.”

The groan that falls from Elias’ lips rumbles in his chest.

You might be getting out of there quicker than originally anticipated.

#elias pettersson fic #elias pettersson #nhl fic #one shot

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girlgirlgirlnormal · 3 years

Text

Niragi x OC x Last Boss (Part 4)

Hey, I wrote another part! And this story still has no name. Also, I`m working on a small Kuina fic, because I love her very much.

TW: Abuse, sexual content, harrassment

Word count: 2.8k

part 1 part 2 part 3

She had been spending every day with Samura and Niragi for a week now. They went regularly to games, but they never took Hina with them. They did not tell her, but she deduced from their behavior that they had thought bringing her to a game would help them protect her. The floor is lava game was not a game in which anyone could protect another person. They had been a little gentler with her. Niragi was still fucking her mercilessly every night, and Last Boss was enjoying watching it and have his way with her afterwards, but they were good to her. She got fresh fruit, and nobody came near her. She got cigarettes and birth control and everything she asked the men for.

It was a warm night, Samura and Niragi were out with Aguni and some other militants to participate in a game. Hina had been bored in her room, so she went down to the bar by the pool and got herself a cocktail. While sipping on it she spotted Kuina, sitting on one of the loungers and talking to someone she hadn’t seen around before. She decided to join them. Kuina was nice and pretty.

She walked over and plopped down beside the girl with the short hair with whom Kuina was talking.

“Hey, I’m Hina.”, she introduced herself, extending her hand to shake the young man’s hand before stopping abruptly, “Do I know you?”, she asked, furrowing her brows.

The young man looked away shyly. That was all Hina needed to recognize him.

“I gave you a lapdance!”, she exclaimed, “You came to the club”, she thought about it, “once?”

“It was a birthday present from my friends”, the men answered, looking at his feet.

“Awww”, she cooed, “I remember you because you were so shy! You didn’t even look at me throughout the whole dance!”

The girl beside her laughed.

“These are Arisu and Usagi”, Kuina introduced them, “but I guess you already know Arisu?”

“He had my tits in his face”, Hina laughed, “I guess he hated it, but his friends were having a grant time.”

Kuina laughed, “But don’t get caught hanging out around her, her boyfriends don’t like it.”

Hinas hand automatically wandered to her hickey covered throat.

“Stop that crap music”, someone shouted, and the music was abruptly cut off.

“Those are the militant core at the beach. If you want to live in peace here, then don’t mess with them”, Kuina said, looking down, and explained them the beaches dynamics.

Hina couldn’t help but shove Usagi a little bit behind herself. She knew the militants. The only reason none of them even talked to her was that they were afraid of Niragi and Samura. Usagi was a pretty girl. They would like her. She didn’t think that she would like them back.

Aguni stopped infront of them, making Hina arch her back and lean a bit forward, trying to cover as much of Usagi as possible.

“Where is your friend?”, Aguni asked Arisu, making him look away shamefully, “Oh yeah? He’s dead? Too bad. Yet someone like you still lives.”

Samura and Niragi were standing behind Aguni, watching with interest.

“You know each other?”, Kuina asked, but no one bothered answering her.

Agunis gaze fixated on Usagi. Hina wanted to say something or do something to distract him, but she didn’t know what.

“Hey”, Aguni said, slightly turning to Niragi, “bring the woman.”

It was too late to do something. Hina wanted to give her the advice she herself had been taught at a very young age. If you can’t escape, try to enjoy it. It didn’t seem appropriate.

She watched Niragi, with his sniper over his shoulder walking over, just as he was about to grab Usagis arm Arisu sprang up.

“My boss says to bring you to him”, Niragi explained to Usagi, “get up.”

Hina could see Last Boss mouth twitching the same way it did when he watched her being taken by Niragi. They wouldn’t help this newcomer.

“Leave her!”, Arisu said, standing up and holding Niragis hand.

“Are you a tough guy?”, Niragi asked, clearly having too much fun with the situation, he turned to Aguni, “What should I do to him?”

Hina closed her eyes. This would not end good. She didn’t dare to speak up though. She was already sleeping with them to survive; she wouldn’t get herself killed over protecting a woman she had just met. She still wished she could protect her.

If you can’t escape, try to enjoy it, her grandmothers voice rang in her head.

She smiled, as she met Samuras gaze. She couldn’t enjoy the scene infront of her. She was just going to watch the man who always made sure she had something to eat and some water after he fucked her.

“Break both his legs so he dies in the next game.”, Aguni ordered.

“Good one”, Niragi looked back to the other militants, “take the woman and you come with me.”

Her eyes were still locked on Samuras, as he started walking again, following Aguni. The whole procession stopped, as Arisu ran to stand between one of the militants and Usagi. Hina could feel her hand grasping Usagis. Her friend was going to die, and she was going to be raped. There didn’t seem any other way this situation could end.

“If you can’t escape try to enjoy it”, she mumbled, low enough for only Usagi to hear.

The newcomer gave her a panicked look.

“Ooooh”, cooed Niragi, threateningly walking up to Arisu.

Hina was waiting for it to end, as a voice asked, “Is there are problem?”

She had never been so happy to see the hatter. This woman didn’t have through all the things she had gone through in the real world.

“Back off hatter, this is none of your business.”

“But this is my business. I´m the beaches leader. What I say is the law here and I´m saying that you keep your hands off the newcomers, Aguni.”

Nobody moved.

“Niragi.”, said Hatter.

Niragi looked away, “The only boss I have is the general”, he announced.

“Then I will ask the general. Who do you think is your boss, then, Aguni?”

Aguni stared in the other man’s eyes and for a moment Hina thought that he would kill him then and there.

“Shower once in a while”, hatter said dismissively and told the executive members to meet in the conference room.

Scoffing, Niragi and Samura followed Aguni, away from Hinas sight.

They wouldn’t be happy then they got back.

Arisu was invited to the meeting and left. Sawing that Chishiya was approaching, Hina said her goodbyes and went up to her room. Niragi hated that guy and didn’t want her to be near him. Normally she wouldn’t care, if she was chilling with Kuina and Chishiya joined, she just ignored him, but today was different. Niragi and Samura would be already mad then they got to her and she didn’t want to fuel their anger.

Back in Samuras room – she hadn’t gone back to her own room since her first night with them – Hina went to the small ghettoblaster and started to play her song. Daisy by Ashnikko. Since it had came out a couple of months before she found herself in the borderlands it had been the song to her signature dance. It was a nice song and it had been easy to form a persona around it. She had danced with a bright blue wig and tall “glass” platform heels. The act was so popular that they even printed a life sized poster of her dancing on the pole during that act and placed it on the most prominent wall of the club.

She used one of the bed posts as her pole and danced with closed eyes, pretending to be back in her club, with her only friend Red Diamond cheering her on. She stopped as soon as she heard the door open.

Samura and Niragi entered. Samura went to the ghettoblaster, turning it off, as Niragi stepped in her personal space, one hand tightly gripping his rifle, the other her throat.

“What were you doing with the newcomers?”, he asked, squeezing her throat.

She didn’t even try to answer. He was squeezing too hard for her to be able to speak anyway. She just looked up at him, trying to hold her breath. Fighting him or trying to somehow breath through her squeezed airpipe would make her look pathetic. If he wanted an answer, he had to stop choking her. She was already feeling a bit lightheaded, as Niragi let go, shoving her onto the bed.

“I had just joined them. The man, Arisu, I know him from before. He came to the club once.”, she explained.

“Once?”, Niragi said, face dangerously near hers, “Why would you remember someone who came to your club once?”

She had told them about being a stripper. No more or no less. They didn’t want to hear about it. They didn’t even make her dance for themselves. They didn’t talk about their lives before the borderlands and they were not interested in hearing Hinas story.

“Because he was so shy”, Hina explained, she caught herself smiling at the memory, it had been a busy day and he had been dragged there by his friends who were insisting on paying for a lapdance for him, “I gave him a lapdance and he didn’t even look at me. A true gentleman.”

Niragi slapped her cheek. Hard.

“A true gentleman”, he mimicked her in a high-pitched voice and slapped her again.

This time Hina could not stop herself from reaching to her burning cheek. She did not stop looking into his eyes, even though she could feel tears pooling in her eyes. They had been so much gentler with her and now everything was ruined, just because she talked to some people?

“If you can´t escape, try to enjoy it”, Samura quoted her words from earlier.

How did he hear that?

“Is that how you feel about us?”, he asked.

She saw up to him. He was still wearing his hood and his katana was strapped to his back. Niragi was still holding his rifle. Normally they took off their weapons as soon as they entered the room and started kissing her. She couldn’t believe that talking to someone had changed that.

Hand still on her cheek she shook her head, “Its just something I was taught in the old world.”

“Who taught you that?”

“My grandmother”, the tears were no longer just pooling in her eyes, they were flowing freely down her cheeks.

“Why?”

“Because things like that happen all the time”, Hinas voice had no emotion in it. It was just a fact. It had happened to her and so many people she knew.

“Did someone hurt you?”, Samuras voice was much softer than compared to his other questions.

Just 15 minutes ago he had enjoyed watching Niragi pull away Usagi to be met with that faith and now he had the nerve to sound concerned?

“You mean someone who is not the two of you?”, she asked, voice still not betraying any emotion, “Yes. Many times. And you are hurting me too.”

Niragis hand was on her jaw before she could say anything else, he was holding her tight and watched her face for a moment before licking a long streak on her face, collecting some of the tears, “But princess”, he whispered, “You agreed to this and we’ve been awfully nice to you.”

She couldn’t help but scoff, “You can be gentle but contrary to popular believe, I do not enjoy being hit.”

Niragis eyes were closed as he licked the other side of her face. Samura was watching them.

“Has someone on the beach hurt you?”

“They tried.”, she answered, “I got away.”

“Do you want to go back to your room?”, Samura asked, hood still up.

Niragis hold was too tight and she would have bruises all over her face the next day. She shook her head.

“I don’t want to be alone”, she whispered.

Samura finally took off his hood and unstrapped his katana, gently putting it on the sideboard. He sat down next to her on the bed and kissed her shoulder.

“You look exhausted”, he said, shooting Niragi a look, “Maybe we shouldn’t play tonight.”

Niragi frowned but let go of her jaw.

“I would have enjoyed that”, he murmured.

“Remember what we said, Niragi”, Last Boss said, “She is ours. We will treat her good and she will stay ours. She doesn’t look like she can handle it today. We don’t want to break our doll.”

Hina felt so thankful. They had been fucking her every night since their first night. She couldn’t understand how they were always so horny. Sure, she enjoyed it. Sometimes at least. Then she was not being hit, choked or pounded so mercilessly that she could feel her insides tearing, but that was always Niragi and he always stopped then she started screaming in pain.

How messed up did she have to be to see that as a good sign?

“Lets just go to bed”, Samura declared, placing a small kiss on the top of her head, “and tomorrow we will continue talking about this.”

They let her change into one of Samuras shirts as they undressed. They slept only with underwear, most of the time even naked. After a good session none of them wanted to move much.

She laid down in the middle of the king-sized bed and let Samura hug her to his his chest. The mattress caved behind her, as Niragi joined them, cuddling up to her back.

“Maybe we should establish some safe words tomorrow”, Niragi mumbled into her shoulder, “Would you feel safer that way?”

Hina nodded, “I don’t mind you being rough in bed. I just don’t want you to slap and beat me outside of it”, she whispered letting herself being cradled between them, “My boyfriend used to do that.”, she thought for a moment, choosing Samuras words to describe it, “He hurt me. A lot. Every day. I don’t want to fear you like I feared him. I don’t want to be paraded around like a prized dog.”

“Good”, Samura answered, nuzzling his face in her hair, and taking a deep breath, “You won’t have to.”

Normally, Hina was the last one to fall asleep. She would stay awake and lick her wounds and sleep much later than the men. This day, she fell asleep first. She wouldn’t say that she felt safe with them. She just didn’t feel like she was in immediate danger between them.

As she woke up the next morning, she was alone in bed. Neither the men she had gone to bed with nor their weapons there anywhere in sight. Sighing she sat up. She should get dressed and go down to the pool to get some breakfast. Pulling Samuras shirt off she got dressed in her red bikini and put on her flip-flops. She quickly brushed her hair and made her way down. As she stopped by the bar to get herself a fruit bowl, she spotted Last Boss and Niragi sitting in the VIP section with some other militants. She took the small bowl from the bartender, whose job included serving food at mealtimes, and made her way to them.

“Good morning”, she greeted them, sitting down between them.

They wished her a good morning and went back to eating their own breakfast. They didn’t touch her. That was weird. Normally they were not able to keep their hands off her. They would always touch her legs, her face or her back. Now it was nothing. She started eating but continued watching the man.

“What’s wrong?”, Niragi asked frowning.

She stared at him. Then she stared at Samura, who was also staring at her.

“What do you mean? What’s wrong with you two?”, Hina was wondering if she shouldn’t have told them what she did the night before. Did that make them not want her anymore? Would they drop her or leave her to die as soon as the next game came?

“You wanted us to behave like gentleman”, Samura explained, “Not to behave like your boyfriend. We are doing our best.”

She looked at him. He looked like he was being genuine. They had listened to her and they were ready to change their behavior.

“We`ll talk about it later, in the room. We still have to find a safe word.”, Niragi reminded her, “Eat.”

#alice in borderland #suguru niragi #niragi #niragi x reader #last boss #last boss x reader #takatora samura #aib #chishiya #The Beach #Dori Sakurada #shuntaro yanagi #kuina #hikari kuina #aib ff

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mymelodyheart · 3 years

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Miles Between Us Chapter 4 ~Reunited~

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Previously in Twists and Turns

Although it was a cold, dreich and cloudy day, it didn't stop the strains of Pharell William's song, "Happy" playing in his head. He was having one of those days where he had the world on a string, and it felt like nothing could thwart his good mood. His Sassenach was coming tomorrow, and she'd be staying with him for at least a week. She already warned him not to make too many plans as she had work to do, but he didn't care. He would be waking up every morning for the next few days with Claire in his arms, and they'd eat dinner together when their day was done. That was all that mattered.

He was about to turn around and make his way into the living room when he saw Jenny leaning against the far end counter, her arms across her chest. It only took Jamie a second to deduce his sister had been standing there a while, her grin saying it all.

"Jenny!"

"I called out to ye when I came in, but ye didnae hear me. Looks like someone is happy," Jenny observed, smirking. "What's up with ye?"

"Claire ...ye ken Claire. Ye met her over two weeks ago. She's coming over to stay for a few days. With me."

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Jamie eased his car into the parking lot, focusing on his breathing when his heart began to pummel against his chest. He'd known this might happen, and he'd come prepared ...or at least he hoped so. Taking his key out of the ignition, he reassured himself Claire would be with him soon enough, so he tried to remain calm.

He leaned back against his seat and shut his eyes for a moment. Breathe in, breathe out, repeat. C'mon Fraser lad, ye got this.

Claire had initially planned on making her own way to Broch Mordha, too worried for him, in case he had another one of his panic attacks. But Jamie had vehemently insisted on picking her up despite her protestations. There was no way he was going to sit around in his cottage, waiting for her to arrive when he could be with her sooner. Every second spent in her presence was precious, and he wasn't about to give up any opportunity to be with her.

When he finally gathered himself together, he noticed his knuckles had gone white from gripping the steering wheel and a dull throb slowly working its way up to the back of his head. Every noise, every reflection of sunlight bouncing off the windshield was a torment. Ah, shite! Please, not now! His jaw already ached from its constant clenching and unclenching and his molars grinding during the drive, an attempt to smother the anxiety threatening to bubble up. He'd just arrived, and already he felt like he was going to suffocate.

All the way from Broch Mordha, he'd centred his thoughts on Claire, afraid that if he allowed his mind to wander, the panic attacks would get out of hand. In his head, he'd pictured her laughing, full of life and excitement, and the way she made him feel. And he'd thought, if he could hold on to those images, he might just be able to keep the anxiety at bay, long enough until Claire was by his side.

Taking a deep fortifying breath, he exited his car, the noise around him giving off a static buzz, rivalling the one crackling in his head. On cue, an onrush of whirring sound intensified and just when he thought he was going to pass out, he caught a familiar scent as a blur in beige walked past him. Surprisingly, the din between his ears subsided into a distant hum, and his head shot up in time to see a man in an old fashion trenchcoat and a flat cap, hurriedly zig-zagging past oncoming and ongoing crowds. What the ...?

He felt drawn to the man like it was pertinent to get hold of him right this instant, not quite comprehending why. "Hey ye!" Jamie shouted after the bustling figure. "Wait up!"

The man stopped as if he'd heard he was being called, long enough for Jamie to see his profile. Harry? Harry ...as in Claire's father? Surely not! It cannae be.

Before Jamie could make sense of what he was seeing, the figure began moving again, and so he picked up the pace. "Harry?!? Hey! Stop! It's me, Jamie," he shouted.

Jamie began to walk quicker, straining his neck so he wouldn't lose sight of Harry, but the man was fleet, occasionally stopping, looking for someone or something before rushing off again. Although Jamie was agile himself on his feet, he couldn't seem to catch up, and it wasn't long before Harry disappeared through the glassed entrance. Bummer!

He ran this time. When he eventually made it inside the airport, all he could see was Harry's head, bobbing up and down among a moving group of bodies heading in the direction of the arrivals' waiting area. He continued to follow, wondering what the hell Harry was doing here. The last time he'd seen the man was before Christmas, and after that, on an old photograph, Claire had shown him. Ah, fuck! Jamie thought he must be losing his mind. Is Harry alive, or is he a ghost? Claire did tell him that Harry or Henry, or whatever he was called, died in a car accident. So what the hell is happening? Is his condition making him see the deceased or is Harry a figment of his imagination?

His eyes scanned the crowd, but Harry's head was replaced by an image of a bouncing oversized red beanie. Jamie continued to walk forward, dipping and diving, not wanting to lose him, but red beanie head was waving an arm, and it kept getting in the way. Ah hell, where did he disappear to?

Irritation coasted down his back, and his eyes landed once again on the red beanie head, walking towards him, just a few feet away. Underneath the brightly coloured headgear was a mass of dark curls that framed a rosy cheek face with crystal clear amber orbs and a smile that tugged at his heart. Gradually, as if coming out of a trance, everything came into focus, and the backdrop and the noises dissolved. His heart stopped as realisation kicked in. It's Claire!

"Sassenach," he whispered. His lungs dislodged every iota of oxygen in his body, the world seeming to suspend around them expectantly.

Before his brain could compute what was happening, Claire dropped her bags and launched herself into his arms. Her warmth, scent and breath enveloped him, soothing his soul. In that instant, everything in the world felt right again as she buried her face against his neck.

"Oh, God Jamie, I missed you," she whispered, her grasp tight around his neck. "You came, even when I told you not to. Stubborn, stubborn man!"

The tension in his muscles loosened, and the feel of her body was worth the stress he'd put himself through coming to the airport. He drew away slightly and gazed down at her beautiful face. "I had to come so I could do this," Jamie murmured, ensnaring Claire's mouth with his own.

Her lips parted on a breath, and his tongue delved in, claiming her. Reminding them both and anyone in the vicinity who was watching, to whom she belonged. She must have sensed the psychological toll on him being in a busy place and what it took out of him to drive here, and his need to be grounded and centred. She clasped his face in her hands, forcing him to withdraw the kiss on a groan. She glanced up at him and searched his face, and when she was satisfied that he was alright, she gave him a smile that caused his throat to tighten with emotion. His heart pounded so hard, she placed her hands on his chest as though to keep it from bursting free. Wanting to feel more of her, he hoisted her up and pressed her closer against him. When he lowered his head to reclaim her lips a second time, she playfully nipped at his lip, before taking control of the kiss, reminding him he belonged to her too. She tunnelled her fingers in his hair and tilted her mouth over his, kissing him fervently until they broke away, gasping for breath.

She giggled, sliding away from his grasp, only for her arms to encircle his waist. "That was some welcome. I'm tempted to come more often now if I get to receive a kiss like that every time I arrive."

A harsh sound escaped his mouth. "Ah, Christ. What universe am I on that I get to keep ye for mysel', huh?" he breathed, running a thumb across her lower lip.

"A universe tucked away in a Highlands, one that I'm so chuffed to have found because you're in it," she replied, smiling, her breath ghosting on his chin as she looked up to meet his gaze. "Though I must admit, I wasn't too thrilled when you insisted on picking me up. I have faith you'll get over your anxiety one day, but you shouldn't push yourself too hard. Healing takes time, Jamie."

He tipped her chin and smiled, oblivious to the hustle and bustle of their surroundings, finding his calm in her presence. "I ken ye still worry, but I'm getting better every day. I promise. The meditation playlist ye sent me helps a lot, and it works even if I get leg cramps out of it as a result. Next, ye'll be suggesting yoga, but I'm warning ye, that's where I draw the line, Sassenach. My limbs are fine as it is."

She scrunched up her nose at his attempt to downplay his condition. "So, no more anxiety attacks? How about nightmares?"

"No nightmares," he reassured her, picking up loose curls resting on her shoulder and letting them slide between his fingers. "Though I still wake up sometimes in a cold sweat and occasionally, I have wee attacks when I'm under stress. But they're manageable as long as I remember the breathing exercises."

"That's good, Jamie," she said, sliding her hands up and down his back. "For a minute there, when I came out, and first saw you, I thought you seemed rather pale. You looked past me like there was no recognition in your eyes, but your colour returned when I got closer. I have been worried about you coming ...so I must have imagined the whole thing."

Ah hell, Harry! He'd forgotten about him. He looked beyond her head, even though he knew Harry was long gone. Knowing it was a futile endeavour to even contemplate Harry's whereabouts, let alone start looking for him, Jamie cleared his throat and brought his attention back to Claire. He didn't want to lie to her, but there was a time and place to talk about Harry. He knew he'd delayed it for too long, but it had to wait just a wee bit longer. "Ye didnae imagine anything, Sassenach. I felt the beginnings of the panic attack, but when I saw my mate and started to call after him and follow him, I realised the distraction helped suppress it. He was going in the direction where ye came from. And then right after I lost him, I saw ye."

She cocked her head and looked at him curiously, amber eyes inquisitive, always reading between the lines. Even though he knew she appreciated that piece of information, there was still something niggling at her. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Aye, I'm certain now that ye're here."

Claire studied him. "Well, the distraction from your mate helped for sure. Or at the very least, it took the edge out of the anxiety."

Jamie gave her a reassuring smile. "Indeed, it has. Shall we go?" he proposed, eager to get going.

She visibly shook herself and nodded as he stepped away from her embrace and made a move to collect her bags. Once they got going, he twined their fingers together, powerless to stop himself from kissing her knuckles and brushing them with his thumb. The noises in his head had already ceased, and with Claire by his side, not even the drone of a busy airport could yank him back into the grips of immobilising anxiety bouts.

Although seeing Harry earlier had helped quell down the panic attacks, he knew it wasn't a permanent fix. As Claire had once told him over the phone, part of his recovery included finding a healthy way to let go of the past and forgive himself. It was taking time for sure, but the more he acknowledged his demons, instead of burying it deep down into his subconsciousness, the easier it got. The more he talked about the death of his best mate, Simon MacKimmie, the lighter the load on his shoulders became. There might still be lingering guilt and the image of Simon's death deeply embedded in his memory, but as Claire often had, and time and time again said, real progress took time. Jamie understood the fix needed to be on a mental level, and that was on him.

Despite it all, he felt incredibly blessed to have a lass who was willing to walk with him through it and not for him, something perhaps his sister should take note of. He'd shared with Claire his living hell, and still, she found something beautiful in the midst of so much ugly. He was convinced more than ever, with Claire everything was possible and he was looking forward to their future.

As they made their way out of the airport and into the parking lot, Jamie squeezed Claire's hand and smiled. "So what are yer plans today, Sassenach? Do ye have to work?"

She beamed up at him. "No. Work can wait until tomorrow. I think these past few weeks I've worked enough ...not to mention missing out on a lot of weekends. I think I deserve a break."

"Aye, that ye do. So, lunch perhaps, then?" Jamie suggested, releasing her hand and clicking the key fob as his car came to view. "Ye must be hungry."

"Did you make something?"

He swiftly deposited her bags into the boot and shut the door before kissing her on the forehead. "No. But I can always whip us up something, or we can stop somewhere on the way to grab a bite ...if ye wish."

Claire shied away, for once looking reluctant. "I'm not really hungry, to be honest."

"So do ye have anything particular in mind ye want to do?" he asked, his curiosity spiking when he noticed a bright shade of red rising from her neck to her face, causing her face to flush prettily.

She chewed her lower lip. "Are you working today?"

He grinned. "No. I took a day off." And he'd arranged with Willie he wouldn't be starting work until ten tomorrow morning.

"Well, ..."

"Weel what?"

"I think I'd like to go to bed."

To bed? He searched her face looking for any evidence indicating she was unwell or fatigued. After all, she'd been working a lot these past few days. But he found none. Instead, her eyes betrayed what she had in mind. Still, he could be mistaken and wanted to be sure. "To bed or to sleep?" he asked slowly and cautiously.

She stood on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his, making his stomach flipped. "What do you think?" she whispered against his mouth.

There was an awareness on Claire's face that revealed she felt the wild rapping against his rib cage. Both of their breathing changed, and in an instant, the closeness of their bodies was no longer means to keep anxiety at bay.

His heart rate suddenly became an equivalent of a man running from a bull in Pamplona. "Ach, Sassenach, couldnae ye wait until we were nearer to home to tell me that?"

Her shoulders lifted. "Well, you did ask ..."

He walked her backwards against the car and pressed their forehead together. "Ah, damn it! Here I am trying to block images of what I want to do to ye the moment we're alone and be a decent boyfriend and treat ye like the sweetheart ye are. Now all I can think of is ..."

"What?" she asked innocently, her lids fluttering, her pupils obstructing out some of the gold of her irises. "What are you thinking of?"

Ah, bloody hell! He certainly didn't want to answer that. Not here at the airport's parking lot anyway. He blew out a shaky breath and adjusted his jeans. "Get in a car." The growl that broke from his throat sounded foreign to his ears, but it couldn't be helped when the sudden urgency to have Claire was thrumming in his veins. "And not another word, until we reach home."

She smiled and made a motion of zipping her lips as she got into the passenger side. He groaned inwardly, hoping and praying for another distraction. But this time for an entirely different condition that was tormenting him.

Dear Readers,

Well, I did try my hardest to finish this chapter in time for Valentine's day, but I was having too much of a good time with hubby that I thought surely you guys wouldn't mind. We had takeaways, a bottle of wine and cuddles on sofa rewatching Hunger Games. I know it's hardly a romantic film befitting Valentines, but we both loved it. My thoughts are, every day should be Valentine's day, so I hope you felt Jamie's love (and lust) for Claire in this chapter.😁

Before I sign off, I'd like to thank you for your continued readership and feedback, and I am so looking forward to what you think in my latest update. Take care of yourself and keep the love vibes rolling. Until my next instalment ...X

#melodyheart #wonderwall #milesbetweenus #ClaireBeauchamp/JamieFraser #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #outlanderfanfic

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freedom-of-writing · 3 years

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The Stable Girl

Wayhaught AU:

Waverly of the house Earp is a young princess supposed to marry the champion of the tournament organized by her father, the king, for her 21st birthday. Nicole is the new stable girl with big dreams of becoming a knight of the king's guard. What will happen when these two elements, minding their own business, finally connect? Will they become love?

Chapter 1 – Waverly’s birthday

Her 21st birthday was supposed to be the most magical day of her life. She’d been planning that day for years now. But unfortunately, things don’t always go as planned. Actually, for her it seemed like they never went as planned. Her eldest sister Willa had gotten married 4 years prior, and she had moved to another castle with her husband, prince Robert Svane. Not that she missed her. Willa had always been a bully to her. As for her other big sister Wynonna, she was a knight of the king’s guard, their father’s army, and she’d been away for ten months now. She was probably still fighting some battle, or just getting really drunk in some tavern with the rest of the knights. She’d promised she’d be back for her birthday, but she must’ve forgotten. As always. And that was it. The only other people she talked to in the castle were her two handmaids, Stephanie and Chrissy. When they were younger, she used to consider them her friends, but with time she’d come to realize they only cared about gossip, beautiful dresses and boys. She was way too educated to settle for their company. What she really needed was someone with whom she could talk about literature and science, and do all kinds of things that were not necessarily girly.

When she was a kid, she and Wynonna used to hang out with the stable boys, or the king’s guard rookies. They would wrestle each other and spar with wooden swords, and in the hot season they would ride to a lake only a few miles away from the castle, and they would swim, and talk, and play around… She missed doing all those things. But mostly, she missed being allowed to hang with her sister and the boys. It’d been so long since she’d felt that carefree and happy. Seven years to be precise. On her 14th birthday her father told her she was no longer a kid, and it was time for her to start behaving like a proper lady. She’d never understood why Wynonna was allowed to be a tomboy, while she had to give it all up. But maybe it’s because their father simply viewed his middle daughter as a lost cause. Which might also be why he had given her an ultimatum: either she got married and started acting like a lady, or she trained to become a knight of the king’s guard. But Waverly, she wasn’t stubborn enough to go against her father’s will. And that led her to years spent following Willa around and mimicking her every move, while her sister basically treated her like her personal slave. Finally, when Willa got married, Waverly was left alone. Apart from some brief visits from Wynonna, she’d been alone for 4 years now. At first it had felt very lonely, but with time she got used to the peace and quiet, and most of all, to the company of a good book or some music. She would spend most of her days in the library, reading books, playing piano and singing. When her father wasn’t at home, she would go to the stables and spend hours with the horses, the dogs and Lady Jane, a ginger cat who seemed to dislike every human but her. But she would always make sure not to be alone with the stable boys. She could see the hungry looks on their faces whenever they saw her, and that made her extremely uncomfortable. Wynonna had warned her about that: “beware of the boy who’s turned into a man, for he wants a woman not a friend”. Sometimes her sister could be quite poetic. But she was right. Those who used to be her friends now scared her, and she did not want to be alone in their presence.

Anyways, back to her birthday. You’d think having to spend it all alone was the worst of it, but no. It gets even worse. Apparently, her father had decided 21 was the perfect age for her to become officially a lady. Someone’s lady, to be precise. Her dreams of travelling and exploring the world after coming of age were all shattered by the king’s wish to find her a husband. He would have never said it out loud, but Waverly knew her father couldn’t wait to get rid of her, as bad as it sounds. She never understood why he hated her so much. He was always so attentive when it came to Willa and Wynonna, but with her… sometimes she felt like he didn’t even remember he had a third daughter. Wynonna had always told her he only became so harsh when their mother left. But why punishing his six-year-old kid for a decision his wife had made? It was not her fault she chose to leave her family behind and start a new life somewhere else. If it were for Waverly, she would have gladly left with her mother. At least the queen had always been caring and loving with her. Everything her father had never been. He had never given a damn about what she wanted, nor had he ever bothered giving her a choice.

“You’ll be a grown woman soon. It’s time we find you a husband. You can’t live under your father’s roof forever.” He had told her a month before.

Not wasting any time, he had come up with the perfect plan to find a suitor for his daughter: in honor of the princess’s birthday, the king was to host a week-long tournament, and lords and princes from all over the realm were to come and fight for a chance to win her hand.

Waverly had lost count of how many men she had to welcome and greet in the past couple of days. And it wasn’t even over yet. The last of the party were to arrive that morning, so not even on her birthday was she allowed to have some time for herself and do something she liked. That’s why she had ordered her handmaids to come wake her up early that morning. Obedient as always, Chrissy and Stephanie had knocked on her door at 7 am, two hours before the first guests would be arriving to meet her. In just a little over an hour she was up and ready, which meant she had quite some time to spend on her own before meeting her father in the throne room. The two girls had tried to convince her to let them stay so they could celebrate her birthday together over breakfast, but she had a long day ahead of her, and she really needed some peace and quiet before it started.

When the two had left, she sat down by the window to look out at the garden. Opening it a little, she let the cool breeze run through her stray locks, and she took a deep breath in. She was wearing a huge silver gown with high-heeled shoes. And her hair was tied up behind her head with little lilac flowers in it. The fresh air and the peaceful atmosphere of the garden made her forget about how uncomfortable those clothes were, and for a moment she imagined being little carefree Waverly, running barefoot in the grass chasing butterflies and dreaming about flying up in the sky with them. Her mother would be sitting under a tree making her a flower crown, while Wynonna would be chasing squirrels up the trees like a little monkey. And Willa… well she would be inside with their father, learning how to rule a kingdom. As far as Waverly could remember, Willa had never played outside with them. Wynonna used to say her big sister loved playing with her when they were little, but she was the heir and their father wanted to be sure she knew how to rule the kingdom once he was gone. That’s why Willa had stopped being a kid quite early on.

It was almost the end of summer, and the trees were starting to look less green than before. A light shade of yellow tinted the leaves, and the grass was no longer covered in flowers. In just a few weeks most of the birds would be gone as well, flying away to look for a warmer place to spend the winter. Waverly remembered a conversation she had with her mother on her sixth birthday. The last they spent together.

“The garden is a magical place, my little one. The grass, the trees, the animals moving around… everything’s alive. And everything keeps changing. I could stare at it every day for the rest of my life and never get tired. If you look closely, there’s always something new to admire.”

“But in winter it gets kinda sad. The birds all leave, and the squirrels hide. It all looks kind of naked without leaves and flowers.”

“Life’s a circle, baby girl. The old die so the new can thrive. But there’s beauty even in the silence of a sleeping garden.”

“I miss you, mama.” Waverly whispered at the wind as a tear fell down her cheek.

The king had told everyone the queen had died of a sudden illness, but the three princesses knew she had just left because she couldn’t take that life any longer. Wherever she was, Waverly imagined her sitting in the grass with her eyes closed as she listened to what nature had to say around her. And she was happy. At peace.

Speaking of, her own peace was interrupted by a knock on the door. It was time. Two of his father’s guards had come to escort her to the throne room, where the king was already waiting for her. With a heavy sigh, Waverly got up and closed the window, taking one last deep breath in. Then she turned and followed the guards outside.

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“Father.” She greeted with a slight bow when she reached the throne.

Her father barely bowed his head in return before motioning for her to take her seat by his right side. Once she was seated, she noticed lord John Henry Holliday, the king’s hand, had also taken his place on the other side of the throne. Doc, as he liked to be called, was a middle-aged man, with black hair and a thick black mustache. His beautiful blue eyes met hers briefly and he smiled warmly at her. She had never spent much time with him, but the man had always been really nice and sweet with her.

“Happy birthday, princess.” He mouthed at her.

“Thank you.” She mouthed back with a bright smile.

It was in that moment that she realized her father had not even bothered wishing her a happy birthday when she entered the room. But he probably didn’t even remember it was today. He had never really been aware of her birthday. If it weren’t for Doc, she was sure, he wouldn’t have even remembered she was turning 21 that year.

The noise of heavy footsteps approaching the room brought her back to reality. The captain of the guards, who had been charged to escort each guest to the throne room, entered the room and announced the first lord.

“Welcome to Purgatory, lord Lance” Doc greeted him once the man was standing in front of the throne.

Lord Lance nodded briefly at him, before bowing to the king. “Your majesty.” Then, turning towards Waverly, he bowed slightly to her as well. “Princess.”

“If you will, please, follow the guards, they’ll show you to your room. You can rest and get changed. The king and the princess will see you at lunch.” Doc told him.

“Thank you, lord Holliday.” He nodded again, and then he turned to follow the guards out of the room.

“These Lance… are they rich?” The king asked once the man had left.

“Very rich, your majesty.”

“Good. He seems nice too.”

“He could be father…” Waverly whispered making sure her father wouldn’t hear her.

If she really had no choice but to get married, couldn’t she at least marry a man her age? She thought to herself with a heavy sigh. This birthday was slowly turning into her worst nightmare. She could almost feel tears forming in her eyes, but she could not cry right now. The morning had just begun, she had to keep it together. With a deep breath, she pushed back the tears, and she put on a smile as the next guest was admitted into the room.

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The morning had seemed to last forever. The last of the guests arrived when everyone was ready to go to lunch, and the king refused to meet him. Doc had tried to convince Waverly to go with the king, but she refused. She hated this whole meeting and greeting the guests, but these men had come from all over the realm just for her, and the least she could do was welcoming them into her home as a princess should do. Obviously, her gesture did not go unnoticed, and the lord made sure she knew how grateful he was for her patience. He was an old man, almost completely bold, but at least he’d proved to be very polite, offering Waverly his arm as they walked to the dining room.

After an hour, Waverly was getting a terrific headache, and she just couldn’t take the noise anymore. Being the only woman in a room full of men was bad enough, but being the only woman in a room full of screaming drunk men was too much.

“Father, I’m not feeling well, I think I might retreat to the library for a while.” She tried to tell him, but the king was too drunk to process what she’d just said.

Luckily, Doc heard her and granted her permission to go. “We’ll see you at four. Have some rest, princess.”

She smiled gratefully at him, and then she turned towards the guests excusing herself. Once she was out, she ran down the hallway and out into the garden. As the fresh air filled her lungs, she felt her head beginning to pound less and less. She was free, at least for an hour or so. After a moment of reflection, she decided that going for a walk in the garden would be much better than closing herself in the library. The cool breeze would surely make her headache to go away. She just hoped no one went looking for her inside, or she would be in great trouble.

She’d been walking for forty minutes when she found herself in front of the stables. It had been a while since the last time she went in. In the past year the king had barely ever left the castle to go haunting with his lords. Taking a look around to make sure nobody could see her, she decided to go in. She was immediately greeted by lady Jane who came running towards her.

“Hey, little one. Did you miss me? Yeah?” She said as she leaned down to pet her, and the cat happily purred in response.

She stayed like that for a while, but suddenly the cat took off looking for a place to hide.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Waverly asked as she got up to see where she had gone.

“I didn’t know princesses were allowed in the stables.” A voice said from behind, startling her.

“God!” Waverly exclaimed with a little jump. “You scared me...” She said turning around to face the other person.

In front of her was a beautiful tall young woman with long red hair and big brown eyes, which seemed like they could stare right into her soul. She was wearing a pair of khakis and a sleeveless brown leather jacket over a creme shirt. She must have been a new servant or something, because Waverly couldn’t recall having seen her before. And it’s not like there were many ginger heads around there.

“Are you okay?” The redhead asked with a chuckle.

Waverly couldn’t help but stare at her. The woman was giving her the most beautiful smile Waverly had ever seen. And the dimples on the side of her mouth made her look even cuter.

“Yeah, I’m… I just had a crazy morning.” She managed to answer after a moment.

“Sorry I wasn’t there to see it.” The woman said with a smirk.

Was she… was this woman flirting with her? Waverly couldn’t help but blush a little at her cheeky behavior.

“I’ve been… I’ve been meaning to introduce myself. I’m Nicole. Nicole Haught. The new stable girl.” The redhead said trying to break the awkward silence. Offering her hand for the princess to take, she continued. “And you are… Waverly Earp. Quite a popular girl around here.” She smiled before kissing the back of Waverly’s hand, making the princess blush in the process.

In her life, she had been greeted like that from gentlemen a thousand times, but no one had ever made her feel butterflies in her stomach. Waverly felt so shy and small as Nicole’s soft lips grazed her skin.

“So… why is a princess like you hiding from her perfect life?” Nicole asked letting go of Waverly’s hand.

“I’m not hiding!” Waverly answered harshly, catching Nicole off guard. “I’m sorry… I’m not usually like this.” She apologized when she noticed the shocked look on the redhead’s face.

“Hey… I get it. No one’s life is perfect.” She reassured her with a shrug.

“Yeah, well, mine’s feeling more like hell than a perfect life lately…” Waverly said more to herself than to Nicole, but the stable girl still heard her loud and clear and gave her a questioning look.

“I’ve spent the past couple of days smiling and waving at lords and princes who came here for the tournament. My father wants me to marry the champion.” She explained with a sigh.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve spent all morning cleaning your stables. Looks like my morning was shittier than yours. Both literally and figuratively.” Nicole joked hoping to lighten Waverly’s mood.

“Might be hard to believe, but… I kinda envy you.”

“Oh, c’mon, how bad can it be? You get to marry a rich prince, or some brave knight…”

“Most of the men I’ve greeted are like forty years old! And what if I just don’t wanna get married?!” Waverly exclaimed in an exasperated tone.

Couldn’t everyone just leave her be for one freaking minute, and let her choose whether she wanted to get married or not?! All her life, she’d had to be what others expected her to be, but no one ever bothered asking what it was that she really wanted. Willa got to marry a rich prince, yeah, but he was also the man she’d been in love with ever since they were kids. And even Wynonna was given a choice. Okay, it was more of an ultimatum, but still… she wasn’t forced to marry a man twice her age. But what about her? Her father had never given her a chance to find her place in this world. All these years spent trying to be the perfect little girl her family wanted her to be, hoping to enter her father’s graces, and nothing had changed.

“What do you want?” Waverly was taken aback by that question. Nicole was the first person who’d ever asked her that.

“I… I don’t know.” She realized in that moment that she’d never really thought about that question, so used to tailor herself to the people she was with.

“Well, what do you like? There’s gotta be something that’s just… yours. A dream, a wish, a passion…”

“I… I’ve always wanted to see the world, and visit the places I’ve read about in my books. And… and I wanna drink beer at the tavern with my friends, or… hold a sword, a real sword. I wanna travel around with the king��s guard and fight in battles like my sister does. Why does she get to be a hero, while I get to be just…” She trailed off.

“Just what?”

“Me.” Waverly concluded in a sad tone.

“Hey… look, you as you are, are okay. You don’t have to be a hero to be special.” Nicole tried to comfort her by grabbing her hand and giving it a light squeeze.

Waverly looked down at their joined hands for a moment, and then she looked up only to be met by the brightest and warmest smile ever. Nicole was looking at her with so much love and compassion that she felt like she could get lost in those big brown eyes of hers.

“You’re special, baby girl. Don’t ever forget that.”

So far, mama had been the only one to ever call her that.

They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, until it became too much. Retracting her hand from Nicole’s, Waverly tried to break the awkward silence. “So, hum… what about you? What do you want?” Waverly asked while sitting down on a trunk nearby.

“Me? I’m just a stable girl…”

“And don’t stable girls have dreams too?”

“I should probably get back to work now. Those horses won’t brush themselves.” Nicole said, clearly avoiding the question.

“You know, when I was a little kid I used to come here every day and would spend hours with my horse. But when I turned 14, my father forbade me to come to come to stables. I could still ride my horse if I we had to go somewhere, but he said I wasn’t a kid anymore, and ladies can’t get covered in mud and dust. The only times I can come to the stables are when he’s not at home.”

“So why are you here?”

“I needed a break. And he thinks I’m in the library.”

“I see…” Nicole said, then she got an idea. “Hey, do you wanna help out?”

“Oh, I’d love to! Like… like to. But I can’t.” She tried to correct herself.

What the hell, girl? Get your shit together! She mentally scolded herself. You see one hot girl, and suddenly your brain can’t work anymore? OMG, did she just think Nicole was hot?

She took a deep breath in order to gain some control again, and then she continued explaining. “If I get dirt on my gown, my father’s gonna kill me.”

“I got some spare clothes if you want… you could just get changed.” Nicole offered with a smile. Or was it a smirk?

“It’s not that simple, it took me like 40 minutes to get into this gown.”

“40 minutes, huh? I bet I could get you out of it faster…” Nicole said to herself, but it was still loud enough for Waverly to hear it.

“What?”

“Help. I bet I could help you out of it faster. If… if you wanted to get changed.” She tried to correct herself.

Damn it, Haught! Couldn’t you keep the comment to yourself? This time it was Nicole’s turn to mentally scold herself.

“Right. Hum…” Waverly didn’t really know where to go from there. She had never actually flirted with someone before. Let alone with a woman. She needed an excuse to leave, fast. She couldn’t do this right now. “I… I’d better go back now. Before my father finds out I’m not actually in the library.”

“Sure, yeah. Then maybe some other time.” Nicole smiled at her. “I mean it.” She added with a hint of a smirk.

Waverly smiled briefly at her, and then she turned to leave before the other woman could notice just how bad she was blushing.

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Chapter 2 - The night shift

#wynonna earp #wayhaught #wayhaught au #waverly earp #nicole haught #fanfiction #fanfic

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orsuliya · 3 years

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This part (4 of who knows how many) of my Awu/Xiao Qi married headcanons resembles nothing more that a dying whale full of confused feelings. Which is exactly what I would swiftly turn to left alone with this drama without @madeleineengland’s continuous friendship and support. What I actually want to say is: Happy Birthday, my dear! I am thankful to have met you. I hope you like this instalment, even if I couldn’t quite manage to fit in a kneeling Song Huaien. Sorry!

There are some things that no woman can choose for herself. Some things simply happen – or not – as they please with no regard to wishful thinking or social status. A princess or a gravedigger’s daughter, a young maiden or a stately matron, none can simply will themselves pregnant, no matter how many prayers have left their lips and how many offerings have graced the altars, set there by gentle hands yearning to hold a living, breathing child instead of a bowl of rice or a stick of precious incense.

And yet, no matter how many times she whispers this truth to herself in the middle of the night, Xiao Qi’s broad hand resting on her lower belly in a sincere attempt to soothe the twinges of pain that come every single month without fail, there are still moments when Awu cannot help feeling as if she’s failing in the worst of ways. Not failing her husband, for until the day she dies she will never forget the truth shining in his eyes, still fever-bright from Wang Qian’s vile mixture despite the self-inflicted blood loss. And not even the twelve generations of Wang Empresses. After all, hadn’t she courted their disapproval already by choosing to walk through life hand in hand with her husband instead of living torn in half until her very last breath? No, the person whom she fails is always herself.

And in her mind she fails a lot. There is a bitter taste on her tongue as she pushes Xiao Qi’s wise, warm hand off her abdomen and rises from their shared bed to stand at the window, throwing open the shutters and trying to breathe, even as the feeling of warm blood pooling between her thighs makes her remember her first and worst failure, committed right in the middle of the palace courtyard. There were pamphlets, she knows, vicious, cruel rumours of how she bled her baby out from sheer disgust of having been bred by a man born nobody knows of whom and where. Only after every wagging tongue had already been silenced with a cloak of red silk set around her shoulders, did she realize that half the court must have been tittering excitedly over the prospect of seeing the proud Wang daughter set aside and brought as low as she had once sat high. And they hadn’t been kind about it, going as far as to comment that her swift appearance at the scene of the coup must have been motivated by her eagerness to be rid of her spouse as the balance of power finally shifted. Fools, what blind, base-minded fools all those high-born courtiers – many of them her distant kin – have turned out to be!

Princess Shangyang wouldn’t have felt such dark, all-consuming anger. Princess Shangyang, as Awu has learned in all her years as Princess Yuzhang, had been something of a fool, a bird kept in a gilded cage, encouraged to sing and chirp happily regardless of how the bars of that cage withered her wings. It was only later that this caged songbird discovered that she was no songbird at all, but a bird of prey. And like a bird of prey Awu wishes she had known of every single salacious rumour – but only so that she could tear their originators to shreds for using her poor never-born first child for their own vicious purposes, for making a spectacle out of her – their – pain.

In her anger she barely notices how her fingers have curled tightly over the windowsill… at least until big, calloused hands descend onto hers and she finds herself cradled in Xiao Qi’s loose, yet strangely grounding embrace. For a moment she wishes to slip away, to escape and simply be angry, no matter how futile it may be after so many years… And had he tried to lead her back to bed, had he spoken a single word, she might have done just that, but there is only silence between them. Only slightly unreal, moonlight-washed silence and Awu feels the flames of her anger sputter and go out, leaving only bitter, choking ash of regret.

Yet there is one kernel of failure she can exorcise right here and now for both of their sakes, even if it can never be made right in this life. If I have children of my blood, she says, allowing herself to let go of the magical ‘when’ this one time, seeing them entered into the Xiao family book would bring me greater honour and joy than if they were feted as princes and princesses of the first rank. And maybe after a moment she feels the need to explain further, to say that she would have been honoured to act as a filial daughter-in-law to his parents, no matter their birth and status, but before she can get out a word, he manages to catch her off-guard. Not with a kiss to the side of her neck, that much she has come to expect always, but rather with his quiet, sleepily tender reply: Before we get to filling any pages, we need to have a book in the first place. Help me with that in the morning? And what can she do in response to that except hum in agreement and lean backwards?

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Some things simply happen – or not – as they please. Which does not mean one should not help them along in any way that comes to mind. Or several minds, as it happens in this case.

Doctor Shen, however wise and famous, is far from the only – or even the best – available authority on the matters of female body, partially due to not being of female persuasion himself. Unlike, for example, his assistant and niece Shen Yunxin, an aspiring female doctor in her own right. Once that accomplished, if rather young lady managed to make herself heard, she swiftly rose in Xiao Qi’s regard, and would have done so for her gumption alone, even if her medical skills hadn’t been excellent in the first place. Shen Yunxin, skipping the dancing-around that most of her male colleagues invariably tended to degrade to in the presence of any person of power, rather daringly announced that perhaps instead of concentrating solely on curing Awu’s infertility – and thank you, the acupuncture treatments she herself administers every week are going just as planned – they should perhaps focus on the picture as a whole. That is, after all, what a doctor should look at first, right? Especially as there is no material proof of Xiao Qi’s high fertility. The ‘or is there now?’ part remained unspoken; even though Shen Yunxin came to like her primary patient a lot and had her own reasons to distrust men and their promises, she – this time and always – held to the standards of professional behaviour.

Awu, for her part, really enjoys seeing Xiao Qi drinking bitter herbal concoctions of his own. Even if she might not be all that convinced by Shen Yunxin’s words, it surely cannot hurt anything. And why should she be the only one to suffer under a tyrannical medical regime? What’s good for the goose is good for the gander. And if in truth Xiao Qi doesn’t mind the taste at all, who would blame him for exaggerating a little for his wife’s amusement? Certainly not his wife, who has seen through his play-acting at once and swiftly decided that there is something to this mouth-to-mouth method of feeding particularly vile medicines to recalcitrant patients.

And yet Shen Yunxin isn’t the only fount of knowledge to be found in Ningshuo and, truth be told, has shown much interest in the secrets of folk medicine herself, especially as practiced by Alima’s kinswomen. Although some of those women, in particular Alima’s crone of a grandmother, have proven astonishingly… direct and rather shameless with their advice, to the tune of making a fully-fledged practitioner and an old married woman such as Awu, both of them hardly prone to prudishness, blush like girls not yet through their hair-pinning ceremonies. Or perhaps the advice was actually fine and tamer that one might expect. The enthusiastic appreciation that Alima’s kinswomen seem to hold for Xiao Qi, however, could probably fluster anybody, much less the man’s wife!

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It is not entirely out of the realm of possibility that Awu decided to follow the kindly-meant advice of Alima’s grandmother. After all, the woman had successfully given birth to nine babies and gotten eight of them to adulthood, which would make anybody pay attention. Perhaps there is something to be said for the value of hard-won experience? And perhaps it was Shen Yunxin’s acupuncture skills that helped in the end, or even her insistence to look at the greater picture first. Or Doctor Shen’s bitter tinctures, or Xiao Qi’s unwavering, ah, helpfulness. Or possibly the fact that Awu finally decided that what will be will be and threw herself with doubled energy into the whirlpool of domestic concerns… which are truly never-ending, if one counts an entire province as one’s home.

Whatever the cause, Awu eventually achieved her goal… And yet she was among the last ones to actually suspect anything, the first being Xiao Qi and A-Yue, who had informed Doctor Shen and Shen Yunxin respectively, after having noticed some rather peculiar changes. A lady’s maid knows her mistress better than her own husband, although in this case, with the husband being an exceptionally affectionate one, that might not ring quite so true. Incidentally, the symptom that both of them had noticed was Awu’s sudden heightened sense of smell combined with a rather noticeably expressed aversion to her previously favourite perfume, which, you must admit, is a rather worrying sign.

As it turns out, both the uncle and niece had a good idea of Awu’s state, going by her last bleeding being more of a spotting than anything else – and you may bet Shen Yunxin monitors that closely – and yet they remained unable to fully ascertain their suspicions without any clear accompanying signs, nor were they willing to give any early hope, which may later be dashed. In fact, Doctor Shen would have preferred to avoid any agitation whatsoever for at least a week or two more, having had difficult experiences with this patient in particular, but one look at Prince Yuzhang’s face had him rethink that plan. Had Hu Guanglie been there – or alive in the first place – he would have immediately recognized that expression as Xiao Qi getting ready for battle, which he is quite sure he can win… but not entirely sure, with his doubt rising with every hour of there being no news of enemy movements. But even an amateur would be immediately wary of this sudden tension, for all that it might be hidden under an impressive facade of pretended calm. And Doctor Shen, after thirty years of practicing medicine among the upper echelons of Cheng nobility and staying alive – which is no mean feat – has learned to be quite sensitive to his powerful employers’ moods. As a survival tactic, if nothing else.

Another important skill, which Doctor Shen hasn’t yet imparted onto his niece, is judging when and where a doctor’s presence might be wanted... and when and where it is most certainly not needed. Pulling Shen Yunxin from the room by her sleeve might seem like a rather abrupt reaction, but it was by no means unjustified. Some things are simply not meant to be seen by outsiders. Prince and Princess Yuzhang facing each other and simply looking into each other’s eyes in perfect, tremulously joyful silence before the Princess lets out a hiccuping laugh and hides her suspiciously shining eyes against her husband’s collarbone is certainly one of those.

____________________________________

Xiao Qi’s first emotion after hearing the news is joy, then absolute panic – as far as that man ever panics, that is – and then steely determination most usually reserved for military planning. Having heard one word too many about miscarriage being a real possibility this early on makes him frantic and this in turn means that something really, really foolish is about to happen. Something like riding for the capital with only ten thousand troops. Something like going into Hulan alone. Something like dealing ungodly amounts of damage and letting his hair fly loose. Hu Guanglie would call this state a silence before mass decapitation. Were he there and alive, that is. Thankfully Hu Yao is both alive and there (deal with it, people!) and manages to redirect this thrumming energy into something actually constructive, which is probably the only thing that saves Awu and Xiao Qi from having an epic row over a series of very unreasonable ideas. Like, for example, shutting Awu in her rooms in the middle of Ningshuo Fortress and standing guard over her until the baby is born.

Meanwhile, Awu’s behaviour couldn’t be more different from that exhibited by her very own husband. Now that her years of continuous disappointment are over, she refuses to even consider that something might go wrong. At least not during waking hours, when she’s surrounded by a steady throng of people and children; and there is no way she would ever agree to being imprisoned in her rooms, although she agrees to retiring at the first sign of true fatigue and actually keeps her word, which causes her to share more than one nap in the middle of the day with little Song Guanglie. Which, in turn, makes for a pretty mellow Princess, especially right after she rises.

Which is exactly why this is the exact moment the brilliant tactician Hu Yao chooses to inform Awu that her fool of a husband (even if she doesn’t use exactly those words, she means exactly that) has evaporated with a troop of six into direction unknown, which may or may not be Hu Yao’s fault. Awu confirms that yes, Xiao Qi came in as she slept, woke her up briefly and said something about going on a short trip, promising to return as swiftly as possible. The look on Hu Yao’s face is rather telling and a tiny bit guilty.

That little overnight trip? Hu Yao is reasonably certain it is a hunt for something big and impressive. A local variety of wolf? A big feline of unfriendly persuasion? Probably not Hulan raiders, such as they are those days; she is rather insistent on that last point and for a good reason. That reason being that Xiao Qi had been making things strangely tense in the training yards, which are Hu Yao’s rightful domain, and so she decided to get rid of him by asking about preparations for the birth, no matter that the happy event may be six months away yet, and describing in great detail the extent of the prospective father’s involvement in those.

And seeing as it’s paramount – for future good fortune and the safety of both the mother and the baby – that no products of the birth are allowed to touch the ground, hence the need to provide a layer of ash, rushes or perhaps a cow’s skin as is the case in the wealthier families of Hu Yao’s acquitance, and taking into account that Xiao Qi has never done things by halves, his plan is rather obvious. Awu doesn’t know whether to feel strangely amused, immensely flattered and touched… or perhaps increasingly annoyed by losing her bedmate for such paltry a cause. For the moment she chooses option one, if only because amusement helps her forget about any apprehension the word ‘hunt’ might be causing her for rather obvious reasons. She will hold her judgement on options two and three until she sees the result of Xiao Qi’s bout of paternal madness.

The hero of the hour returns four days later, impossibly smug and with a bloody enormous salted pelt of a great brown mountain bear. Which he will then proceed to cure himself, because why wouldn’t he. Awu doesn’t have the words for what she’s feeling. Exasperation? Fond exasperation? A sudden onset of unexpected horniness? And I mean really unexpected, because bears smell and she’s still not over her olfactory oversensitivity. But mainly a burst of love and womanly pride. Sure, her man might be a fool, but he’s her fool and… I mean, it is a really big bear. Very, very impressive, if one was prone to being impressed by such things. Which Awu usually doesn’t find herself to be… Oh, who is she even trying to fool?

____________________________________

Xiao Qi has made something of a study of his wife’s body, which she had always been cognizant of to a certain degree. So it’s rather hard to say that it comes as a surprise that he’s able to tell when she begins to show even before she herself does – and she shows very early due to her general slimness. All the other things, however, are somewhat more out of the left field.

Like how he starts to send Awu’s maids out every time he catches one of them with a comb even before she confesses that somehow her scalp became really, really sensitive and in a rather peculiar way. Which he has apparently noticed and decided to take shameless advantage off, especially as the pleasure is mutual; Awu’s hair has become somehow both thicker and softer, a true delight to touch for a person as tactile as Xiao Qi.

Or how he suddenly stops going after Awu’s earlobes to her sincere confusion and irritation. She liked it, dammit, and what Awu wants, Awu gets, so the next time his mouth appears anywhere in the vicinity of her neck, Xiao Qi finds himself rather brusquely pointed at the desired target. The problem is, upon his acquiescence Awu finds it not as pleasurable as all that and really rather painful, her ears apparently having become rather sensitive practically overnight. By which point she has no other choice but to demand how had he guessed before she realized this about herself. His answer turns out to be rather disarming: You haven’t worn a single pair of dangly earrings for half a month.

The worst thing is, he is absolutely right. Every single time, which at the beginning causes no little exasperation, especially when Awu’s body starts rapidly changing and sometimes she feel like she hardly knows what she even looks like anymore. Is that pale, drawn face in the mirror actually hers? Why are her eyebrows suddenly so pale and whispy? And has she always had dark patches on the underside of her breasts? As time passes, all those other changes start looking less and less dire, having taken second fiddle to the most important thing of them all: a growing, living child nestled between her hipbones, which have lost all pretense of sharpness during those last few months. And so she starts asking questions. Not to fish for compliments – she truly cannot complain of a shortage of those – but out of true curiosity. What have you noticed that I haven’t? Show me.

And he does show her, claiming and re-claiming every inch of her skin as it changes and there is not a single moment in which she does not feel beautiful, or wanted, or loved, even when she’s absolutely miserable and sick, and bloated. Although she calls him a liar the one time he truly earns it by announcing her stitches on the newest piece in the increasingly elaborate layette to be the height of perfection despite them being crooked and all over the place due to her suddenly clumsy fingers. But just as he is her guide to her own body, she is his and there is little that she finds herself unable to complain of.

It’s their journey, their child, perhaps their only chance at this miracle and she absolutely refuses to hide, especially as her time comes near. Refuses to hide both literally and metaphorically, spending hours upon hours of increasingly warm, stuffy summer evenings laying naked on top of the covers and drawing nonsensical labyrinths upon her own skin with the tips of her fingers, every line closely followed by eager eyes, calloused hands or gentle lips; every single tap or movement from within met with genuine fascination and something not quite unlike worship.

____________________________________

There has hardly been a military campaign that involved more meticulous planning than the birth of this one tiny child, Ningshuo’s first princeling. Taught by Wanru’s premature experience with childbirth, both Awu and Xiao Qi remain rather wary of any fixed dates. The child will come when it will come, rather like the enemy, announces Xiao Qi, stopping the rather spirited discussion between the womenfolk about the necessity of early preparation and earning himself a fiery glare from Awu for using such inappropriate comparisons. By which I mean there is little to be done aside from observing the terrain and getting ready for an ambush, which may or may not come at any time, he explains, trying to mollify Awu and enclose her into his self-imposed bubble of confidence, usually reserved for use upon soldiers on the verge of panic, which is exactly what this discussion of premature birth has brought into their home.

And you know what, it actually helps, if only a little. Enough to take Awu’s mind off the possible complications and redirect her nervous energy into consulting with the astronomy charts and then choosing an appropriately situated side room, setting up curtains around the bed to serve as a birthing tent and getting that blasted bearskin out of storage. Which process they will ultimately go through four times, as the star charts – and thus best orientations – keep changing every month. And which neither of them will begrudge, as every single time they move the birthing tent Awu grows just a tiny bit more confident in the success of the upcoming labour and also more attuned to her own needs. At the very last milestone – during which she is comically enormous, but no less able to give out commands – she is an absolute nightmare, having everyone running around to and fro as well as throwing an absolute fit over the birthing rope, which she has agreed to previously.

Doctor Shen, being a great believer in getting his clients through labour alive and having a long-standing grudge against the usual way of birthing practiced in the Imperial Palace – which means supine, surrounded by a crowd of panicking women and with the doctor hardly able to see the patient in order to preserve their chastity – instills a certain regime, which is perfectly in accord with the traditional ways dictated by medical practitioners of old. By which he means peace, no more that two calm attendants at one time and letting gravity do part of the work; the last thing meaning that a length of rope or cloth should be suspended from the ceiling or perhaps stretched between two pillars at at appropriate height, so that the mother can support herself while kneeling or squatting.

In Awu’s case the arrangement changes from a hanging horse bridle – which while a show of status and a portent of good fortune proved to be not that comfortable after all – to a length of silk, to a rope stretched between two pillars. Which apparently doesn’t suit Awu any longer, not providing her with a steady enough support. While A-Yue and Alima keep tying and retying the rope to Awu’s continuous disapproval and even irritation, Xiao Qi doesn’t get involved. Yes, partially because in contrast to everybody else he doesn’t find his heavily pregnant wife a nightmare to deal with. Adorable, more like, the man is that hopeless. And partially because as long as Awu acts out on her irritation, she’s not getting apprehensive or despondent. So let her rage to her heart’s content. Now, the moment she goes silent and perhaps a little bit bashful over her previous outburst, he decides it’s high time for an intervention. Any intervention, even an absurd one. Which means that he disappears for a moment and brings back his spear, which he then secures in place of the rope to the growing disconcernment of everybody present. Awu finds it steady enough for her needs and it’s not like anything else matters.

Seeing as she goes into labour the very next day and finds herself properly appreciative of this improvised solution, Xiao Qi can’t find it in himself to really mind the rapidly growing slew of jokes and ditties starting to make rounds, although he makes a point of trouncing the most intrepid joker rather soundly. Or perhaps five of those, not that he’s in the right mindset to actually keep count once the entrance to the birthing room is barred to him. Before it is, there is still time to tell Awu– not for the last time, this isn’t going to be the last time! - of her bravery, of how only now does he start to truly appreciate what it means to send a loved one into battle and of how they’re going to carry this moment through their whole lives. You’re Princess Yuzhang, you will come back with a victory, hale and whole. You will always come back, he whispers into her hair, not sure who is he actually trying to convince as he hold his entire world in his arms, desperately trying to hide his fear. And failing miserably, which Awu cannot help but notice… once she gets through the current set of contractions. Don’t you dare to be a coward now, my Prince Yuzhang, she scolds, resting her sweaty forehead against his chin. Don’t you bloody dare. I have asked for this and I don’t take upon myself what I cannot carry. And now get out and let me fight my war. You know what I’m capable of.

And by all gods, he knows. And this steely determination in her voice scares him as little has ever scared him before. This time, unlike every other time when she’s risked her life this bravely, there will be nothing he can do to help her, no miraculous rescue, no last-minute shot, no hand ready to break her fall. Has he been too greedy, he ponders, only by a miracle avoiding skewering Tang Jing straight through the gut and then actually earning a light graze from Hu Yao’s blade. Useless, she pronounces, confiscating their weapons and hurrying both men off the training field. Absolutely useless. Go and do whatever it is that men actually busy themselves with while women do all the work.

It turns out that what men actually do in highly stressful situations is sharpen their swords as well as any other blade they may encounter. They are joined in this endeavour by Xiaohe, who will later be unilaterally – and wholly unfairly – blamed for each and every single skewed edge. Of which there will be quite a few. But then, what does an imperfect sword or ten actually matter, when after long hours of absolute hell, during which Xiao Qi has imagined at least five different worst scenarios ending in a pool of blood – just like that terrible day – and prayed to all the gods he has ever heard of, A-Yue finally comes, her wide smile speaking for itself.

#the rebel princess #monarch industry #Awu and XQ headcanon time #and unto us a child is born #although the aftermath must wait #this was getting a bit too long and me a bit too weepy #I am an absolute disgrace of a human being #oh well #HAPPY BIRTHDAY MADELEINEENGLAND #also I might have read a book about childbirth in ancient China #it was full of dead babies but on the whole very interesting

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elles-writing · 3 years

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The Sounds of Home - Kili x reader

Kili x reader

Requested: Yes, by @terri205

Request: Hello there - I read one of your previous posts about taking requests so here i am asking for a drabble or oneshot with some domestic life / husband x wife with children with Kili even though his character died I really cannot get over him. Hope you are still writing for him . ( dwarf x human if that helps .. also can the height difference be erased for now ? Yk Aidan is a tall boy 😁🙃 ) wish you having a great day!

Word count: around 3k

A/N: Of course!! I write a lot for Kili, because I feel like there’s not a lot of fanfics for him, that people actually think more of Fili and Thorin, but hey, this little cute pup needs love too! (Just like Lindir. He’s also adorable.) And I’ve red somewhere on Pinterest that Thorin is actually tall 5′2 ft, which is like only solid 2 inches smaller than me (okay, I’m barely 5′4 ft)!! And Kili’s only a bit smaller than Thorin!! I’ll look for that picture and if I find it, i’ll put it here.

A/N II: I feel like my writting sucks at most of this one, I’m so sorry! I wanted it to be much, much better, but I just somehow don’t really know how to rewrite it, so I’m posting it anyways. I want to write something similar in the future, so I’ll tag you to it.

A/N III: I wrote some extra part and edited it, so now I can say I’m quite happy with it!

Tw: pregnancy, mentions of sex

Okay, so here it is. I found it on pinterest, but it’s from tumblr @richardarmitagequotes . Here is the link to it.

Playlist you don’t have to listen, but I was writting during listening to these songs: Taylor Swift - cartigan, Taylor Swift - exile, The Chainsmokers - Paris, Porcelain Black - One Woman Army, Taylor Swift - august,

It was such a long time ago when did this happened...

This was how you started your children’s bedtime story, which was their favourite - it was the story of how did their parents - you and Kili - have met and long adventure that was avaiting behind them to reclaim Erebor. About you, a young human girl, who was curious and wanted to see the world, and him, young dwarf prince, who wanted to help to reclaim his home again. And surely wasn’t counting on finding love, but yet you were here - Kili, you and your children - living in a cottage a bit aside from Erebor and Dale.

It was a sunny day, you and your children working at the garden. You were in the middle of placing tomatoes to your handbasket, when a loud scream came to your ears. You looked up and sighed at the sight of your son scaring your daughter with earthworm on a stick, which was moving around.

“Vili, stop scaring Ainiel with that earthworm. Go back to taking out the carrots out, alright? And let Ainiel to pick the berries.” Your son shook his head and went back to taking out the carrots, putting the earthworm to his hand and mumbling something to it before putting it back to the hole, where was one big carrot before.

You looked at him by the corner of your eye. He has the same hair as his father, face features, very similar personality, the only thing was his eyes - they were brown with slight e/c in them. Your daughter has gotten her father’s hair texture, face shape and a bit of his joking personality, but from you she’ve gotten her bookworm-self, able to read all day, and thinking carefully about things. Otherwise, she would be your dupe.

You looked over to your youngest child - your second daughter, who was sitting in the grass and creating a flower tiara from daisies. When she was done, she jumped up and with squealing runned to her sister and putted the tiara on her head. She let out a bubbly laugh, as toddlers do, and runned to you.

“Mama, Ainiel is a princess! I am a princess! Mama is a princess!” And placed flowery tiara she finished earlier in your hair. You smiled and she sat down to you, looking up to sky.

“Is there going to be a storm?” You looked up and noticed the dark clouds, quickly approaching. You took your youngest daughter to your arms, your basket hanging from your forearm.

“Vili, take the carrots, Ainiel, take the basket with berries, Lila...” you looked in the toddler’s eyes.

“Hold your tiara, dearie.” You looked over the garden and noticed movement on the other side of the garden on your backyard. Then someting let out a ‘meow’.

It’s probably just some cat, you thought when a typical little furry tale glimpsed through the grass. It wasn’t unusual for cats to be wondering around your house, since in a Dale many people were having cats as pets.

When you were inside, a hard rain started. You sighed out, placed Lila and the basket with tomatoes down in the kitchen, and went over to fireplace to start a fire.

Once the room was filled with warm light and sound of cracking wood, your children started with washing and clearing the vegetables. Vili and Ainiel only, because Lila was sitting on the chair cuddled in blanket. She was afraid of thunders and storms, and even though there was no thunder, there was sometimes a lightning across the sky and she squealed and jumped up.

You made a luke-warm tea for Lila and while she was sipping it, you were cutting the vegetables and meat and cooking stew.

Once the meal was done, you looked out through the window. It was raining really hard still, so you decided to take your children and cuddle behind the fireplace with tea and either read to them or tell them some story.

Once you and your children sat down, blankets were all over the place and Vili and Lila fighting over one of them.

“Lila, give it to me, you have it all the time!”

“No, I want it! Give it to me!” Vili teared out the blanket from her hands and she squealed when she fell down. She started sobbing and then vailing. Vili’s eyebrows furrowed and he kneeled down to her.

“I’m so sorry, Lila, I didn’t wanted to hurt you! Look, you can take the bla-” She teared the blanket from his hands and stick out her tongue on him. He was surprised and inhaled, but Lila jumped on him and started beating his chest by her little fists.

“I’m as strong as you!” Vili squealed when she took his hair and started to pulling them. You quickly took her off of him, careful not to pull his hair more, but a few of them stayed in your daughter’s grasp.

“You’re getting way too energetic, young lady. What’s all this about?” You sat down and she was sitting in your lap.

“He wanted to take my blanket and I fell down.” She didn’t dared to look up at you.

“It’s because the two men in Dale two weeks ago were doing this?” She mumbled a response and you shook your head.

“Lila, that’s not how you are supposed to solve problems. First, you need to talk about it. Don’t be that-” then a loud thunder and sharp lightning scrossed the sky and Lila squeaked.

“M-momma, I’m so afraid!” She nuzzled to your chest and you wrapped a blanket around the two of you. Vili and Ainiel sat next to you, wrapped in blankets.

“Will you tell us the story, momma?” Ainiel asked you, breaking the silence. A slight smile stretched your lips.

“You already know that one backwards.”

“That’s not true, I cannot say it backwards!” Vili protested and Ainiel shook her head.

“That means we already know it really well, you dumb dwarf.” Lila let out a laugh.

“Will you tell us the part with Master Baggin’s home? The beginning?” Vili made a pleading puppy look, that he surely got from his father, and you sighed.

“Okay.”

“And that one when you confessed your love?” Ainiel asked. You smiled and nodded.

“I will. So, I came here with Balin, and I didn’t wanted to be rude, because, as you know, hobbits are peaceful beings and they don’t like when someone is rude, so I just sat aside. Then, there was another knock on the door, and I told him I will open. I opened the door, and there were two young dwarves, one with blonde hair and blue eyes and the other one with dark hair and brown eyes. Me and the younger one froze in spot and the whole Shire must’ve hear us, because we both screamed: ‘YOU?!’. It was that dwarf I saved from two orcs and kicked his butt before, calling him very...spicy names for doing such a stupid thing.”

“How did you called him?” Vili pleated. You’ve never told them, that first words adressed from you to their father were ‘What were you thinking, you fucking fool?! Two big orcs twice your size?! If I wouldn’t save you, you would be dead by now!’.

It was a few days since you’ve left your home for an adventure, where Gandalf invited you.

You were thankful to the few of dwarves that lived near the village you’ve lived in, whom teached your father how to fight, which he teached you. You could get a few nice hours of sleep at night, because you didn’t have to worry about not being able to defend yourself.

The next day, around a down, settling down your things to prepare for a camp, a loud scream cutted the silence. You looked up. It sounded as if somebody needed a help.

You quickly and as quietly as you could, runned to that spot. You looked through the bushes and noticed somebody - a male - trying to fight with two orcs double size of him. One of them was holding his leg, the other one his arm and he was trying to fight with them, but you assumed they took his weapons, since he had nothing but a dagger. You quickly let out an arrow, which went straight through orc’s head, and he fell dead. You jumped out of your hiding spot and the other one chuckled darkly in black speech. You growled and jumped aside when he was trying to catch you. He tried to stab you with his sword, but you were way too quick. You jumped up at tree stump and stabbed him by your sword in it’s back. The orc fell dead, down to the ground.

You looked over to that male - a dwarf, you thought, because of his ears and he was as tall as you - and he was staring at you with awe in his eyes. Adrenalin was still in you from the fight in your veins and you got angry.

“What were you thinking, you fucking fool?! Two big orcs twice your size?! If I wouldn’t save you, you would be dead by now!” He snapped from his expression and quickly started gathering his weapons.

“I didn’t needed help, you know?! I could-I would be able to win over them!” You snorted in very un-lady like way while taking out your sword and arrow.

“Of course, but before that, you would be their dinner.” You looked over your shoulder and shook your head. No. He has just stupid brown puppy eyes.

“That’s not true!” He got angry, slightely offended. You smirked.

“All right then. You’d be their midnight snack.” You chuckled when noticed his face to redden and looked away to get to your place where you wanted to camp.

You couldn’t stop thinking about that man since then. And your angry behaviour, which you were quite sorry for.

“That’s not appropiate for your ears, children. So, where did I ended? Oh, I know!” Vili and Ainiel shimmed closer to you.

“Then, the blonde one looked at both of us and asked: ‘Where do you know each other from?’. The brown-haired muttered something under his breath and I sighed. ‘I didn’t wanted to be so rude, you know?’ He looked up at me, eyes wide, mouth slightely open and cheeks red. I got into house and...who do you think was that?” You asked your children and Ainiel, the quick thinker, was first one to answer that.

“Uncle Fili and Adad, mommy!” She grinned and you stroke her hair.

“Excellent. Now-” You inhaled to talk again, but Ainiel interrupted you.

“Now the wedding, mommy! How was the wedding? Was it big? Was it beautiful?” Her face lighted up in happiness, that was her favourite part. Vili just snorted.

“Girls. Why the wedding? It’s so boring!” You chuckled.

“One day you will find your own significant other and you won’t be snorting at the mention of weddings, because you will be the eager one to plan it all out.” Said voice behind you. You and your children turned around and found your soaking-wet, but madly-grinning husband. Vili squealed, excited, and while trying to get to him, be tripped over his own legs and blanket and landed at the floor. Lila’s fluttered open and she yawned as she woke up from her slumber, and once she noticed her father, she squealed in joy and tried to get to him, her arms opened for a hug.

“Adad! You’re home!” He picked Vili up from the floor and with a grin on his face, he picked up Lila too and spun them around. The sight of him with your children, his face lighted up with joy and absolute adoration for them was a thing that made you to appreciate every single moment like that you had.

Kili placed his two children to the ground, and even if all three of them were wet now, they didn’t really cared. You stood up.

“Now, I see, you are ready to change in something dry.” Kili looked over to Vili and Lila.

“Who’s going to be the first one changed, gets the most cookies!” Before you could even blink, Vili and Lila were already rushing to their rooms to change, and Kili went to your bedroom to change, too.

Ainiel turned to you.

“What about the wedding, mommy? How was it?” You sat down to her.

“So, at first, it was before the battle of five armies. Me and your father, your uncle, nobody knew if we will survive, so we decided to do it without unnecessary formalities. We just changed vows, gifts, kissed and braided each other’s hair.” And lost our virginities that night.

“After the battle and when Dale and Erebor was rebuilded, we got married with all of the formalities that are necessary in royal family. It was a big and eventful wedding, very loud, too. Something like celebration on Durin’s Day, but three times louder, with more dancing.” She nodded with a serious expression.

* Extra *

After the dinner (and promised cookies, which got Vili and Lila) and when your children went to sleep, you and Kili stayed together in the living room, cuddled under a blanket.

„How was your day, amralime?“ You asked him while making circles inside his palm. Kili softly kissed the top of your head.

„Uneventful and boring, givanshel. Meeting got longer today, and thanks to the storm, I was even more late than I would be. How was today for you, my precious queen?“ You felt his hand lazily making circles over the fabric on your stomach and smiled.

„Just like any other day, my dear husband. Two out of our three children took their personality after you, making every day an adventure,“ He softly chuckled and kissed your temple from the back.

„It all started with one adventure,“ He said in a low voice. You sighed softly.

„Yes, indeed it did. But I saved your butt before that adventure,“ His fingers started to make way to your hips and sides.

„Of course, my dear wife,“ He started tickling you, and you tried to giggle as quietly as possible to not to wake the children. You turned around, so you now faced Kili and sat on his lap. You kissed his nose, then his lips, and he smiled to the kiss. He pulled you closer.

„Mhmm, amralime,“ He whispered when you pulled away for air. You pushed a few strands of his hair out of his face, looking deep to his loving brown eyes

„You should go to sleep. You are tired,“ You said. He raised a brow.

„I can stay awake as long as you’d like me to.“ His eyes got that mischievous spark you knew way too well.

„I may be in love with you, but you cannot fool me, my precious prince.“ You kissed his cheek softly.

„So you want to say you’d turn down an opportunity for making love on the floor, or just right here, right now?“ You gasped and punched his shoulder softly.

„Kili!“ His sparkling eyes were watching you, while his lips tugged up into a smirk.

„You didn’t minded that when we moved in,“ He winked at you and your cheeks burned red.

„You’re right,“ You muttered and he laughed.

„But I wanted to talk to you about something...something else,“ You nervously rubbed your hands together. He furrowed his brows and cupped your cheek in his palm, making you to look at him.

„What’s wrong, Amralime?“ You felt his body tense. He was fully awake, and you just shook your head with a small smile.

„Nothing is wrong.“

„What is it, then?“ You placed his palm to your stomach. Kili’s eyes widened in realization, experiencing this for the fourth time.

„Are you-are you really-do you mean-?“ You slowly nodded.

„Around a week,“ A grin stretched across his lips and he took you to his arms, kissing your whole face, dancing around your living room.

„We’re going to have another baby, I cannot-oh Mahal, I can’t believe that!“ He kissed your lips with a smile.

„You need to rest, givanshel.“ He started walking towards your bedroom.

„I can walk on my own, Kili.“ You laughed and he kissed your temple as he kicked the door to your bedroom open.

„Well, you need to rest a lot now, so no walking for you, my love.“ He placed you down to your shared bed and you giggled.

„I need to walk at some point. Who will cook?“ Kili kicked off his boots and laid to you, placing you to his chest and resting his palm on your still flat belly. He kissed your temple and blinked, so he wouldn’t start crying out of pure happiness.

„You know how it ended up every time you ever tried to cook,“ You reminded him and he grimaced.

„Oh, c’mon amralime, I’m not that bad at cooking!“

„You cutted yourself while cutting the vegetables and then burned the soup.“

„Oh hush amralime,“ He muttered and you laughed.

„Amad was giving me a cooking lessons,“ He blurted out suddenly. You raised a brow and turned to him.

„When we were over for Durin’s day last year. Well, rather Amad was teaching me, while Lila and Ainiel were watching over the kitchens in general, and Vili, well,“ He looked sleepishly down on you.

„Vili was messing around with Fili,“ You rolled your eyes.

„I’ve noticed them, of course. I’m glad Erebor is still standing,“ You both chuckled and he started rubbing small circles on your belly. You sighed and hugged your husband closer. He kissed your forehead.

„Sleep, Amralime. You need to rest.“

„You too, Amralime. Good night.“

„Good night, my princess.“

#kili x reader #kili x you #kili #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit au #kili durin #kili-x-reader #request

108 notes · View notes

dr-divinae · 3 years

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Spirit Guide Session

Welcome to your Shamanic Healing Journey experience where you'll be introduced to your Spirit Guides for the second time tonight!! Yeah, I used GoogleNotes for your Spirit Guide Sessions and lost all of my work but I'm not terribly off track I had wrote some of le. Details down via Grimoire for ShamanicChanneling

@cosmic-badlarry

Thank you so much 💖 for joining me this evening 💞 or should I correct myself and say late evening 🌃 night!!

I'm noticing the moon right now 😹

First Quarter Moon 🌜 in ♉⚡💜 When the moon is in Taurus we are motivated by a place of serenity, security, peace, and comfort.🌺⚡Tonight, this evening my dear Gemini child you are going to meet your most active🍂 Spirit Guides...I just pulled some Oracle Cards from multiple decks and based on their Chakra balancing and literal meaning you've got a lot of 🌸Spirit Guides in the 💙fifth Chakra💙 or the 💎Vishudha❄️, and right away we know that that's the 🗣️throat Chakra🗣️💫

And the throat Chakra represents: All sound, Vibration , Communication, Self-expression, Listening, Speaking, Writing

This to me tells me that there could be something related to yourself in the mentioned areas of voice , or vibration?

Or perhaps it's a hint of who your Spiritual Guardians are and what your Spirit Guides gifts are as far as communication goes because that's another vibe I strongly get as a result of this card pulling set.

On my Oracle Card I can tell it's Gabriel's horn... So dear Gemini 💞💖 your first Spirit Guide that's showing up today is Archangel Gabriel as he is also associated with the fifth Chakra as well. Due to his communication link in literally each and every story we ever heard of him .. and he's even known to wear this blue which actually relates to the Chakra I am speaking on so much now ,

now now I'm going to get comfortably numb 😂😂😅 no drugs needed just my regular medical medication 😭dont tell them your dr is now! It's just that I'm ready to do the most in depth part of this Shamanic Session which you've paid for ... I just need to relax , I'm listening 🎧 to a specific type of binaural beats music 🎶 that allow me to channel your most Active 🍂 Spiritual Guardians hopefully I'll really connect with your Spirit Guide ☺️ here we go it's 12: 36 now wow long process🍂💫🌜 but worth it no?

When i begin typing again it will all be channeled information all from your Special shamanic experience with your Spirit Guide.. see you there in the channel 😎...

Hello 👋 Gemini 😁 I'm glad that you have made this choice to finally meet the voice behind all of the synchronicity 🏵️ in your life🍂🍁 to meet the real reason we have met this evening and I'm glad and honored to introduce you to your Spirit Guide🏵️🌸💐

Your most active and current Spirit Guide is a Greek Goddess from this tale I'm about to share and although she's been cursed by Juno and lost her voice somewhat; She is able to repeat sentences, fragments and makes a whole lot of sense when I have her communicate with your higher self 😅 because when I first found out through this Shanic experience that your Spirit Guide is sort of speechless I was lol pretty depressed. About the direction of this Shamanic Healing Journeys for you but going forward I did find the magical method to communicate with the ever forever silenced echos of your Greek. Spirit Guide.

And it's 1:17AM EST Did you guess your Spirit Guide 🏵️ yet? No...

Name: Echo

Origin: Latin

Meaning:reflected sound

Echo as a girl's name is of Latin and Greek origin meaning "reflected sound". In mythology, Echo was a nymph who loved Narcissus and faded away until only her voice was left behind.

In Greek mythology, Echo (/ˈɛkoʊ/; Greek: Ἠχώ, Ēkhō, "echo",[3] from ἦχος (ēchos), "sound"[4]) was an Oread who resided on Mount Cithaeron.[5] Zeus loved consorting with beautiful nymphs and often visited them on Earth. Eventually, Zeus's wife, Hera, became suspicious, and came from Mount Olympus in an attempt to catch Zeus with the nymphs. Echo, by trying to protect Zeus (as he had ordered her to do), endured Hera's wrath, and Hera made her only able to speak the last words spoken to her. So when Echo met Narcissus and fell in love with him, she was unable to tell him how she felt and was forced to watch him as he fell in love with himself.

In Metamorphoses (8 AD), the poet Ovid tells of Juno (Hera in Greek mythology) and the jealousy she felt over her husband Jupiter's (Zeus in Greek mythology) many affairs. Though vigilant, whenever she was about to catch him, Echo distracted her with lengthy conversations. When at last Juno realized the truth, she cursed Echo. From that moment on, the once loquacious nymph could only repeat the most recently spoken words of another person.

Abode/Residential: Mount Cathaeron

Parents: Ouranos

Siblings: Nymphs

Children: Lynx and Lambe

Consort: Pan and Narcissus

Symbol: Crabgrass, Hemlock , the Skunk

Colors: Black, White, Blue, and Purple

The myth of the goddess is told in Book III of the Metamorphoses, and tells the story of a "talkative nymph" whom the goddess Venus admires for her magnificent voice and song. When she tricks Juno into believing that her husband, Jupiter, was in the city, Juno curses Echo by making her able to only finish a sentence not started, and unable to say anything on her own. "Yet a chatterbox, had no other use of speech than she has now, that she could repeat only the last words out of many." This is the explanation of the aural effect which was named after her.[1]

Sometime after being cursed, Echo spied a young man, Narcissus, while he was out hunting deer with his companions. She immediately fell in love with him and, infatuated, followed quietly. The more she looked at the young man, the more she longed for him. Though she wished with all her heart to call out to Narcissus, Juno's curse prevented her.[2]

During the hunt, Narcissus became separated from his companions and called out, ‘is anyone there,’ and heard the nymph repeat his words. Startled, Narcissus answered the voice, ‘come here,’ only to be told the same. When Narcissus saw that nobody had emerged from the glade, he concluded that the owner of the voice must be running away from him and called out again. Finally, he shouted, "This way, we must come together." Taking this to be a reciprocation of her love, Echo concurred ecstatically, "We must come together!"[3]

In her delight, Echo rushed to Narcissus ready to throw her arms around her beloved. Narcissus, however, was appalled and, spurning her, exclaimed, ‘Hands off! May I die before you enjoy my body.’ All Echo could whisper in reply was, ‘enjoy my body’ and having done so she fled, scorned, humiliated, and shamed.[4]

Despite the harshness of his rejection, Echo's love for Narcissus only grew.[5] When Narcissus died, wasting away before his own reflection, consumed by a love that could not be, Echo mourned over his body. When Narcissus, looking one last time into the pool uttered, "Oh marvellous boy, I loved you in vain, farewell", Echo too chorused, "Farewell."[6]

What's Hemlock?

Poison hemlock (Conium maculatum) is a poisonous invasive weed that has caused many accidental deaths because of its resemblance to carrots, including the wild carrot (Queen Anne’s lace). The poisonous agents in the plant are volatile alkaloids, and they are found in every part of the plant. In addition to causing death when ingested, the plant also causes a miserable dermatitis in sensitive people upon contact with skin. Socrates drank the juice of this notorious plant to commit suicide, and ancient Greeks used it to poison their enemies and political prisoners. North American Natives dipped their arrowheads in hemlock to make sure every hit was fatal.

.........TO MOST DEFINITELY BE CONTINUED

Having technical difficulties as far as uploading and sharing this channeled session of Shamanic Healing so @cosmic-badlarry just pleeease hold on

Anybody who's interested inbox me

I can tell you who your Spirit Guide is not a problem just need to get a small fee 😊 and speak to you for a quick second of does not take long at all that part . . But my part of doing channeling does take it m afraid hours. This case I'm doing now omg I've been working since 11:33PM EST NOW ITS 5:44 EST

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timeless-hollywood-classics · 3 years

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Ruth Etting (November 23, 1896 – September 24, 1978) was an American singing star, vaudevillian and actress of the 1920s and 1930s, who had over 60 hit recordings and worked in stage, radio, and film. Known as "America's sweetheart of song", her signature tunes were "Shine On, Harvest Moon", "Ten Cents a Dance" and "Love Me or Leave Me".

Her other popular recordings included "Button Up Your Overcoat", "Mean to Me", "Exactly Like You" and "Shaking the Blues Away".

As a young girl in Nebraska, Etting had wanted to be an artist; she drew and sketched everywhere she was able. At sixteen, her grandparents decided to send her to art school in Chicago. While Etting attended class, she found a job at the Marigold Gardens nightclub; after a short time there, Etting gave up art classes in favor of a career in show business. Etting, who enjoyed singing in school and church, never took voice lessons. She quickly became a featured vocalist at the club. Etting was then managed by Moe Snyder, whom she married in 1922. Snyder made arrangements for Etting's recording and film contracts as well as her personal and radio appearances. She became nationally known when she appeared in Flo Ziegfeld's Follies of 1927.

Etting intended to retire from performing in 1935, but this did not happen until after her divorce from Snyder in 1937. Harry Myrl Alderman, Etting's pianist, was separated from his wife when he and Etting began a relationship. Snyder did not like seeing his former wife in the company of other men and began making telephone threats to Etting in January 1938. By October, Snyder traveled to Los Angeles and detained Alderman after he left a local radio station; he forced the pianist to take him to the home of his ex-wife at gunpoint. Saying he intended to kill Etting, Alderman, and his own daughter, Edith, who worked for Etting, Snyder shot Alderman. Three days after Alderman was shot, his wife filed suit against Etting for alienation of affections.

While Alderman and Etting claimed to have been married in Mexico in July 1938, Alderman's divorce would not be final until December of that year. The couple was married during Moe Snyder's trial for attempted murder in December 1938. Etting and Alderman relocated to a farm outside of Colorado Springs, Colorado, where they were primarily out of the spotlight for most of their lives. Her fictionalized story was told in the 1955 musical film Love Me Or Leave Me with Doris Day as Ruth Etting and James Cagney as Snyder.

Etting was born on November 23, 1896, in David City, Nebraska, to Alfred Etting, a banker, and Winifred (Kleinhan). Her mother died when she was five years old and she then went to live with her paternal grandparents, George and Hannah Etting. Her father remarried and moved away from David City and was no longer a part of his daughter's life. Etting's grandfather, George, owned the Etting Roller Mills; to the delight of his granddaughter, George Etting allowed traveling circuses and shows to use the lot behind the mills for performances.

Etting was interested in drawing at an early age; she drew and sketched anywhere she was able. Her grandparents were asked to buy the textbooks she had used at the end of a school term because Etting had filled them with her drawings. She left David City at the age of sixteen to attend art school in Chicago. Etting got a job designing costumes at the Marigold Gardens nightclub, which led to employment singing and dancing in the chorus there. She gave up art school soon after going to work at Marigold Gardens. Before turning exclusively to performing, Etting worked as a designer for the owner of a costume shop in Chicago's Loop; she was successful enough to earn a partnership in the shop through her work.

While she enjoyed singing at school and in church, Etting never took voice lessons. She said that she had patterned her song styling after Marion Harris, but created her own unique style by alternating tempos and by varying some notes and phrases. Describing herself as a "high, squeaky soprano" during her days in David City, Etting developed a lower range singing voice after her arrival in Chicago which led to her success. Her big moment came when a featured vocalist suddenly became ill and was unable to perform. With no other replacement available, Etting was asked to fill in. She quickly changed into the costume and scanned the music arrangements; the performer was male, so Etting tried to adjust by singing in a lower register. She became a featured vocalist at the nightclub.

Etting described herself as a young, naive girl when she arrived in Chicago. Due to her inexperience in the ways of the big city, she became reliant on Snyder after their meeting. Etting met gangster Martin "Moe the Gimp" Snyder in 1922, when she was performing at the Marigold Gardens. Snyder, who divorced his first wife to marry Etting, was well-acquainted with Chicago's nightclubs and the entertainers who worked in them; he once served as a bodyguard to Al Jolson. Snyder also used his political connections to get bookings for Etting, who was called "Miss City Hall" because of Snyder's influence in Chicago. Etting married Snyder on July 17, 1922 in Crown Point, Indiana. She later said she married him "nine-tenths out of fear and one-tenth out of pity." Etting later told her friends, "If I leave him, he'll kill me." He managed her career, booking radio appearances and eventually had her signed to an exclusive recording contract with Columbia Records.

The couple moved to New York in 1927, where Etting made her Broadway debut in the Ziegfeld Follies of 1927. Irving Berlin had recommended her to showman Florenz Ziegfeld. Etting nervously prepared to sing for Ziegfeld at the audition. However, he did not ask her to sing at all; only to walk up and down the room. She was hired on that basis because Ziegfeld did not hire women with big ankles. While the original plan for the show was for Etting to do a tap dance after singing "Shaking the Blues Away", she later remembered she was not a very good dancer. At the show's final rehearsal, Flo Ziegfeld told her, "Ruth, when you get through singing, just walk off the stage". Etting also appeared in Ziegfeld's last "Follies" in 1931.

She went on to appear in a number of other hit shows in rapid succession, including Ziegfeld's Simple Simon and Whoopee!. Etting was not originally signed to perform in Simple Simon; she became part of the cast at the last minute when vocalist Lee Morse was too intoxicated to perform. Ziegfeld asked Etting to replace Morse; she hurried to Boston, where the show was being tried out prior to Broadway. When Etting arrived, songwriters Rodgers and Hart discovered that the song "Ten Cents a Dance" was not written for Etting's voice range. The three spent the night rewriting the song so Etting could perform it.

Toward the end of Simple Simon's Broadway run, Etting persuaded Ziegfeld to add "Love Me Or Leave Me" to the show though the song was originally written for Whoopee!. She had recorded the song in 1928, but Etting's new version of it was impressive enough to earn her a Vitaphone contract to make film shorts.

In Hollywood, Etting made a long series of movie shorts between 1929 and 1936, and three feature movies in 1933 and 1934. She described the short films as either having a simple plot to allow for her to sing two songs or with no plot at all. The idea was to have Etting sing at least two songs in the film. While she received a marquee billing for Roman Scandals, Etting had only two lines in the film and sang just one song. Etting believed she might have had more success in full-length films if she had been given some acting lessons. Her perception was that the studios viewed her only as a vocalist. She later recalled, "I was no actress, and I knew it. But I could sell a song". In 1936, she appeared in London in Ray Henderson's Transatlantic Rhythm. Etting quit the show because she and the other performers had not been paid.

Etting was first heard on radio station WLS when she was living in Chicago. Her appearance drew so much fan mail the station signed her to a year's contract for twice weekly performances. She had her own twice weekly 15 minute radio show on CBS in the 1930s. By 1934, she was on NBC with sports announcer Ted Husing doing the announcing and Oldsmobile sponsoring her program.

After an unissued test made by Victor on April 4, 1924, Etting was signed to Columbia Records in February 1926. She remained at Columbia through June 1931, when she split her recording between ARC (Banner, Perfect, Romeo, Oriole, etc.) and Columbia through March 1933. She signed with Brunswick and remained there until May 1934, when she re-signed with Columbia through July 1935. After a solitary Brunswick session in March 1936, she signed with the British label Rex and recorded two sessions in August and September, 1936. Etting returned to the US and signed with Decca in December 1936 and recorded until April 1937, when she basically retired from recording.

Etting saved some of her paycheck each week, regardless of the amount she was making at the time. Her friends said she invested in California real estate rather than the stock market. Etting, who made many of her own clothes, did her own housekeeping and lived frugally, initially announced her retirement in 1935. It is not clear why she did not go through with her announced plans, but she issued a second statement regarding retirement after filing for divorce from Snyder in November 1937.

Snyder's aggressive and controlling management style began to cause problems for Etting; during her work with Whoopee! on Broadway, Snyder was a constant presence. He was never without a gun and enjoyed poking people with it while saying "Put your hands up!" then laughing when their fright was evident. Snyder also persisted in cornering Ziegfeld because he believed Etting's role in the musical could be improved. Ziegfeld had a different opinion and indicated nothing would be changed. Snyder would then mumble that it was not a suggestion but a demand.

By 1934 she was having difficulty getting engagements. Snyder's arguing and fighting at venues where Etting was employed caused her to be passed by for jobs in the United States. In 1936, she thought taking work in England might be the answer, but Snyder created problems while she was working there also. Soon after the couple arrived in England, Snyder became involved in a street fight which created adverse publicity for Etting. She divorced Moe Snyder on the grounds of cruelty and abandonment on November 30, 1937. Snyder did not contest the divorce and received a settlement from his former wife. Etting gave her ex-husband half of her earnings at the time, $50,000, some securities and a half interest in a home in Beverly Hills, California. She deducted the gambling debts of Snyder she had paid and the costs she had paid for a home for Snyder's mother.

Etting fell in love with her pianist, Myrl Alderman, who was separated from his wife. In January 1938, she began receiving threatening telephone calls from Snyder, who initially claimed Etting withheld assets from him when the divorce settlement was made. Though the couple was divorced, Snyder was also upset because of reports that she was seeing another man. Snyder told Etting that he would come to California and kill her. When Snyder telephoned and found Etting unavailable, he told his daughter Edith that he "would fix her ticket, too". He called again that evening; this time Etting took the call with her cousin, Arthur Etting, listening on an extension. Etting requested police protection after the telephone call and arranged for private protection. Apparently believing the danger was over when Snyder did not appear soon after his telephone call, Etting released her bodyguards a few days later.

On October 15, 1938, Snyder detained Myrl Alderman at a local radio station and forced the pianist to take him to his former wife at gunpoint. In the house at the time were Etting and Edith Snyder. Edith, Snyder's daughter by a previous marriage, worked for Etting and remained living with her after the divorce. Snyder held Etting and Alderman at gunpoint; when told his daughter was in another part of the house, he made Etting call her into the room. Snyder said he intended to kill all three, and told them to be quiet. When Myrl Alderman attempted to speak, Snyder shot him. Snyder then told his ex-wife, "I've had my revenge, so you can call the police."

Snyder claimed Myrl Alderman pulled a gun and shot at him first and that his ex-wife would not file charges against him because she still loved him. He also claimed he was drunk when he made the telephone threats to Etting in January 1938, saying that at the time his intentions were to kill both his ex-wife and himself. Ruth Etting said that the only gun in the home belonged to her, and after the shooting of Alderman, she was able to go into her bedroom and get it. Upon seeing Etting's gun, Moe Snyder wrested it away from her; it landed on the floor. Snyder's daughter, Edith, picked it up and held it on her father, shooting at him but hitting the floor instead. During a police reenactment of the shooting three days later, Edith Snyder said that she fired at her father to save Ruth Etting, weeping as she continued, "I don't yet know whether I am sorry I missed my Dad or whether I am glad". Snyder was accused of attempting to murder his ex-wife, his daughter, and Etting's accompanist, Myrl Alderman, the kidnapping of Alderman, as well as California state gun law violations.

Three days after the shooting of Myrl Alderman, the pianist's second wife, Alma, sued Etting for alienation of her husband's affections. Though Etting and Alderman claimed to have been married in Tijuana, Mexico in July 1938, Alma Alderman said any marriage was invalid, because her divorce from Myrl Alderman would not be final until December 1938. Police investigators could find no record of the couple's Mexican marriage. Etting publicly invited Alma Alderman to visit her husband in the hospital, in an effort to see if the couple could reconcile.

Ruth Etting testified that she was not married to Alderman. During the course of the trial, there was also a question of the validity of Alderman's marriage to Alma. Alderman's first wife, Helen, obtained an interlocutory decree on January 7, 1935; the divorce became final one year later. On January 9, 1935, Alderman married Alma in Mexico. The second Mrs. Alderman called Moe Snyder to the stand as a witness regarding an attraction between her husband and Etting. Helen Alderman Warne also appeared in court, claiming that Alma Alderman had spirited Myrl away from her. Warne added that she had married and divorced the pianist twice. Alma Alderman's lawsuit ended in December 1939, with the court finding that she was not entitled to damages from Ruth Etting.

The testimony in both trials brought much personal information into the public eye. Snyder, who claimed to still be in love with his ex-wife, gave Etting a diamond and platinum bracelet which she accepted after Snyder's telephone threat in January 1938. Etting testified that she agreed with her ex-husband's statement to police that Snyder was either drunk or out of his mind when he threatened her by phone. Snyder's attorney initially tried to prevent Etting from testifying against Snyder with a charge that the divorce she obtained in Illinois was invalid because she was a resident of California at that time.

During the trial, Snyder's attorney portrayed Ruth Etting as a calculating woman who had married Moe Snyder strictly for the benefit of her career, and that she divorced him in favor of being with another, younger man (Alderman). Snyder's attorney echoed his client's claim of self-defense and said his client never intended to kill Etting, his daughter, and Myrl Alderman. The attorney further claimed that if Snyder intended to kill the pianist, he had ample time to do so while he held a gun on Alderman during the drive from the radio station to the home where the shooting took place.

Etting married Alderman, who was almost a decade her junior, on December 14, 1938 in Las Vegas, during Moe Snyder's trial for attempted murder. Snyder was convicted of attempted murder, but released on appeal after one year in jail. Snyder won a new trial but returned to jail in January 1940 in lieu of bail. In August 1940, Myrl Alderman asked the district attorney to drop further prosecution attempts against Snyder for the 1938 shooting.

Etting, who had retired from performing prior to the shooting and subsequent trials, briefly had a radio show on WHN in 1947. She also accepted an engagement at New York's Copacabana in March 1947. Etting traveled alone to New York and during a newspaper interview, was asked if she had ever seen Moe Snyder again. She replied, "No, I hope I never do." and said that her husband never went to bed without a gun.

The couple relocated to an eight-acre farm outside of Colorado Springs in 1938. Alderman, who was raised in Colorado Springs, operated a restaurant there for a time. Etting and Alderman remained married until his death in Denver on November 28, 1966; he was buried in Evergreen Cemetery, Colorado Springs. Etting died in Colorado Springs in 1978, aged 81. She was survived by a stepson, John Alderman, and four grandchildren. Alderman and Etting are now interred at the Shrine of Remembrance Mausoleum in Colorado Springs, Colorado.

Her life was the basis for the fictionalized 1955 film, Love Me or Leave Me, which starred Doris Day (as Etting), James Cagney (as Snyder) and Cameron Mitchell (as Alderman). Etting, Myrl Alderman and Moe Snyder all sold their rights to the story to MGM; Snyder was living in Chicago in 1955. Etting expressed sadness that "the real highlight of my life", her marriage to Alderman, was omitted from the film. Shortly before her death, Etting said she thought the screen portrayal of her was too tough and that Jane Powell would have been a better choice for the lead.

Etting has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame for her work in films, located on the north side of the 6500 block of Hollywood Boulevard. Her recordings of Love Me Or Leave Me (2005) and Ten Cents a Dance (1999) are part of the Grammy Hall of Fame.

#ruth etting #classic hollywood #classic stars #golden age of hollywood #singer #1920s hollywood #1930s hollywood

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