#why am i making poor quality gifs instead of sleeping

[pink-princess-pussy-pop]

Behavioral Lessons - King Ben x Reader

Summary: You push Ben's buttons too far

Words: 5.3K

Inspired by a section from my Dating Ben Would Include. Ben didn't lose his beard or fangs in this guys. He just didnt. So with that, he might just have some other… beast like qualities. (im so sorry i went rouge)

Link to photo of the dress, but if you hate it, just ignore when the dress is described and picture whatever you want to be wearing!

Warnings: Smut, uhhhh, thigh riding, a bit of edging, choking bro im not well at ALL for doing this to poor mitchell, not proofed

Edit: oh god. yall this is so dirty. i didnt mean to make ben a degrader but here we are... I’m sorry if I ruin this franchise for you rip i ruined it for myself

You had to take matters into your own hands. You hadn't seen Ben in weeks. And when you had, it wasn't for more than a few minutes when you passed each other in the corridors of the castle. He hadn't even been returning to your shared room at night, sleeping in his office instead. You were growing restless without your fiancé.

Since you were both twenty-one, your wedding was coming up. With the nearing celebrations on top of his usual king duties, Ben had been more stressed than usual, which is why you hadn't seen him recently.

So naturally, you just had to take matters into your own hands. You knew the way to help your fiancé was to help him relieve his stress, and you knew just how to push him to get there.

Every Friday night, you sat down with Ben and his parents for dinner. But this Friday was special. Not only were his parents going to be there, but so were your friends. It was the final Friday before your wedding and it would be the most you've seen of him in weeks so you were looking forward to it. And what was to come afterward.

...

You kept the dress hidden for months. It was strapless and fell mid-thigh. The body of the dress was a pale yellow, the outer layer was a sparkly floral pink fabric, and the bodice had tiny bows up the front. Evie had designed it for you and was standing in front of you now.

"Oh. My. God. I don't think I've ever made anything better. You look incredible. Ben is gonna go craaaa-zyyyyy." She was gushing over you, shoving a pair of gold shoes into your hands. "Now put these on, and then let's get to that dinner.

You looked at yourself in the mirror absolutely mesmerized at your reflection. Your legs looked incredibly long with the length of the dress paired with the heels. Dizzy had so graciously styled your hair, a simple updo, but with your small tiara on your head, it was perfect. You smiled at yourself, bringing your hand to your neck where a small, gold, necklace with the letter "B" sat.

...

You were giddy with anticipation, ready to see Ben, ready for him to see you. You entered the large dining hall, filled with your friends from the Isle and Auradon. Belle was at your side immediately, looking beautiful as always.

"Y/N! Sweetie! You look lovely!" The small woman hugged you. "I am so looking forward to you and Ben's wedding next week. It is going to be beautiful!" You smiled at her.

"Thank you! I'm excited about it too. Ben is a wonderful man. I’m very lucky to be marrying him." Then, Lumiere announced that dinner had been served and as you turned to go to your seat, Ben was behind you.

"Hi." He was giving you the smile that made your stomach flutter with butterflies. His hands were on your waist almost instantly, bringing your body closer to his. He looked perfect, would you expect anything different? The blue suit with the golden crown was a look you'd never get tired of.

"Hello." You smiled back at him as he kissed you for the first time in weeks. You broke it first, knowing that people were most definitely watching you and that you needed to leave him wanting more.

As you walked to your places at the table, Ben whispered in your ear...

"You look incredible, Y/n." You flushed at the compliment and at the way his voice sounded when he said your name.

You sit next to him, the chairs closer together than normal with the new amount of people. The plan was in full motion now.

The feast was grand, as it usually was, but before it began, Ben rose to give a toast.

"Thank you all for joining Y/N and me," He gestured for you to stand and join him. His arm wrapped around you instantly. "In our final feast before our wedding." He turned to you, his beautiful smile returning again. "I can't speak for my beautiful fiancé, but I am so happy that our closest friends and family were able to join us tonight." You spoke before he could go on.

"I am also very happy you are here!" The hall erupted in a chorus of laughs and Ben squeezed your side.

"I'm so honored to be marrying such a wonderful person. I cannot wait to share the rest of my life with you.” You smiled at him as he bent down to press a soft kiss to your lips. He whispers, "I love you." and then he pulls away to continue. “Alright, I’m sure you all want to eat, so I won't bore you with my love speech any longer."

...

As everyone else ate, you counted the minutes until you could begin your plan. You didn't want to start it too early or too late. You had to wait for the right time. Ben was such an attentive fiancé that he had noticed your behavior.

"Honey?" You were startled at his voice in your ear again. "Are you feeling ok?" You turned to him, noticing that he was looking down at your chest, blushing when he looked back up. You shifted at the sight of his tongue running over the tips of his fangs.

Now. It was time for your plan.

You set your hand on his upper thigh, leaning over to whisper into his ear.

"I guess I'm just hungry for something else..." You ran your hand up further before you were stopped by him. You looked down at his hand grasping your wrist, right above the seam of his pants.

"Y/N." His usually sweet voice was stern. You set your face with a smirk but innocent eyes, looking up at him. His jaw was clenched but you could tell you were getting somewhere. His skin was dusted pink and his pupils had dilated. "What are you doing?" You reached your fingers to brush against the fabric of his pants and he snarled, his grip on your wrist tightening.

"Ben!" His father interrupted and he swallowed, squeezing your wrist once more.

“Stop if you know what’s good for you.” His words were low and then he turned to his father who was across the table. You took this moment to shake yourself from him, turning to the former king, before placing your hand back onto his pants.

Ben jerked, trying to keep his composure in front of his parents and friends, but how could he when you were teasing him like this? In order to not draw attention to himself, he kept both hands on the table.

"Son, are you ok?" Ben eyed you, giving you a glare that only spurred you on further. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"I'm fine." He continued his conversation with his father, talking about God knows what, as you continued to tease him. You were half listening to Ben and Adam and the other half of your brain was only thinking of making Ben as flustered as possible, so you ran your hand over the growing tent in his suit pants. You could tell he was struggling to maintain his composure, his breathing had gone uneven, his face was red, and he kept glancing at the big grandfather clock behind his father's chair.

You smiled, gave his clothed member a squeeze, and withdrew your hand, reaching for a large piece of chocolate cake. You looked over at Ben, his eyes narrowed on you as you brought a bite to your mouth. His slip in composure was glorious and you winked at him as you brought a bite of cake to your lips.

You almost choked on the cake as his hand slid onto your thigh, just past your dress, fingers skimming the soft lace of your underwear, already wet from your actions and your thoughts of the night to come.

"So needy that you've resulted to disobeying your King? How pathetic." His lips grazed over the skin under your ear before he leaned back to look at you.

Your thighs squeezed against his hand involuntarily and it was his turn to smirk. He regained his composure, returning to “normal” Ben, now free from your teasing.

You, however could barely eat your dessert with his hand pressed between your legs.

“Regretting our actions are we?” He whispered to you as his engagement ring slid over your core. You covered the gasp with a cough. “That’s what I thought.”

...

The second dinner had ended, Ben's arm was around your waist. As the two of you neared the doors of the large hall, his name was called.

His dad and Lumiere were behind you.

"Your Majesty, your father and I have been talking and there are a few things we wanted to go over for palace security during the ceremony. If you come with us, it won't take very long." Ben's face was completely normal as he gave Lumiere a nod before turning to face you.

He plastered on his King Ben smile, brushing his hand against your cheek, bringing your lips to his, but he didn't kiss you.

"I hope you know, I'm not going to be nice tonight." His lips were on yours for mere seconds before he stepped back, running his tongue over his fangs once again. Then, he turned back to Adam and Lumiere, leaving you in the dining hall, thoughts running wild about what was to happen to you that night.

...

You called Evie as soon as you got back to your and Ben's bedroom.

"Do I keep the dress on? Or do I wear something else?" You were frantic, walking around the closet, not knowing what to do.

"Girl! Calm down!" You had told her what had happened and she was so excited she practically screamed. "If I were you, I would put on one of his dress shirts. He won't be expecting it when he comes in to punish-"

"Oh my GOD, EVIE!" The laughter on the phone was enough to make you roll your eyes. "Thanks for your help." You grumbled.

"Let me know how it goes!" Before you could reply, she hung up. You set your phone down and grabbed one of Ben's white dress shirts along with a simple, white lace lingerie set from a drawer.

Slipping the dress off, you carefully put it on a hanger and set it in your closet. You slid the shirt on, buttoning it up, leaving it open just enough to see the bra you had just put on. You began to take out your hair, setting the crown down on your vanity counter, and removing the pins holding the updo in place. Finally, you applied a bit of lipgloss and a spritz or two of Ben's favorite perfume before climbing onto your shared king-sized bed.

...

Thirteen minutes later, not that you had counted, the bedroom door burst open, and in walked your fiancé. His eyes locked on your body as he removed his suit jacket. You knew he was waiting for you to look at him, so you obliged, looking up from the random book you had picked up, you really weren't reading it anyway. He was glaring at you as his hand loosened his tie and removed it. You tried your best to look at him with the most innocent eyes you could and he chuckled.

You watched as he unbuttoned the first two buttons of the white shirt and rolled the sleeves up to his forearms. When you looked back into his eyes, they were almost black.

"Did you have a good time at the dinner, my dear? Did you enjoy yourself?" His hands were placed on the bed so he was leaning down. His tone was condescending, which sent shivers down your spine. He was always so sincere. This new side to Ben was intoxicating.

“Answer your King when he speaks to you.”

If he noticed your eyes widening in shock, he didn’t acknowledge it. He was unmoving, his eyes challenging you, taunting you.

“I’m not going to ask again.” You didn’t know how to respond, so you nodded.

Ben chuckled again, his fangs on display. Any sight of them made your heart race and he knew it.

“No, honey. Use your words.” His voice lowered. “Or do you want to disobey me again?”

“Yes, I enjoyed dinner.” Your voice was small but you held your ground, not breaking eye contact. You challenged him back. “Did you enjoy dinner, Ben?” A dark look crossed his face.

“Why don’t you try saying that again, using my correct title?” You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, but you had to admit, you liked this side of him.

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight…” You sat up from the headboard, leaning towards him, and bowed your head. Then, looking up at him through your lashes added, “…my King?”

His eyes narrowed again and his hands wrapped around your ankles, tugging you to the end of the bed. He settled his knee between your legs, brushing your clothed core on purpose, but not acknowledging it. His hands settled by your head and he hovered over you.

“No.” He dug his knee into you harder and you threw your head back, exposing your neck to him as you moaned. “No, I didn’t.” You felt his finger slide down the column of your throat before hooking itself around your necklace laced with his initial. He leaned down, mouth hovering over the pulse point in your neck. “My bratty fiancé couldn’t keep her hands to herself.”

His teeth ran down your neck and goosebumps erupted at the sharpness of the canines. “You haven’t touched your bratty fiancé in weeks.” He tugged on your necklace and your eyes found his again.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

Now that was a surprise.

Though he got stressed fairly often, he never used vulgar language. You had heard him say “damnit” once after losing a Tourney game in high school, but that was it.

Suddenly, you felt your body flush at his outburst. You didn’t reply, too shocked to say anything.

Ben smiled, but it wasn’t his good King Benjamin smile.

This smile was positively wicked.

“I believe I asked you a question, Y/N.” The fingers hooked on the chain around your neck now rested softly on your throat.

Holy shit.

“Yes.” The words were almost inaudible.

“M’sorry… what was that?”

“Yes.” You spoke clearly now.

He snickered.

“That’s now how you properly answer a question, now is it? Let me ask again.” His fingers tightened slightly. “Do you want your King to fuck you?” The word rolled off of his tongue like honey and your hips rolled into his knee.

“Yes, I want you to…” His eyebrow went up. “…fuck me.” His fingers withdrew from your throat.

“Hmm.” Suddenly he was standing up, leaving you on the bed, catching your breath. “I don’t think you’ve earned it.”

You watched with wide eyes as he sat down at your vainity in the corner of the room. He looked so casually regal. His crown, the unbuttoned shirt, his crisp blue slacks. But there was some other air about him that was making you crumble in his hands. The way he was man spreading, his long legs awaiting as your own throne. His beard and sharp fangs you were aching to feel between your thighs. Your toes curled at the thought.

“You’re thinking about it now, aren’t you honey?” The mean tone from before had returned. “You’re thinking about me fucking you?” Your face flushed so much you were sure it went down your whole body. You quickly realized he’d asked you another question.

“Y-Yes. I am thinking about that.” Your snarkiness from before was long-gone. He gave you another wicked smile. His picked up your crown, which was much smaller than his since your coronation would happen after the wedding.

“Well, are you going to sit there all night or are you going to come finish what you started at dinner?” You got up from the bed immediately crossing to where he sat. His fingers wrapped around your necklace again, tugging you to his level. Your knees hit the floor, hands on his thighs while he brushes your hair from your face. He tilts your chin up to meet your eyes.

His hand retracts while he takes you in. On your knees in front of him, wearing one of his shirts and dear God, the white lace of your bra peeking out at him was making his head spin.

No longer having self-restraint, Ben’s lips lock on yours. You moan into his mouth as his hands wrap around your torso, pulling you to sit in his lap. He growls into the kiss as you grind your hips into his.

Finally. You thought to yourself. Ben’s control over his respectful manner had cracked a little but your goal was to break through it completely. And you knew by his bruising grip on your hips that you were on the right track.

Then suddenly, Ben wasn’t touching you anymore. Your body was left heaving on top of his while he leaned back in the chair, resting his elbows on the armrests.

“Go on.” You stated wide-eyed at him. “I’m not going to do all the work here, honey.” Your face flushed as you looked to his crotch, the tented fabric strained. “You did this…” His hand grabbed yours, setting it back onto his pants. “…so do something about it.”

Slowly, you began to move your fingers and Ben’s eyes narrowed.

“You and I both know you can do better than that.” His hand found it’s way back up to your throat. “Don’t you want to please your King?”

Dear GOD where had this side of him come from? He shifted the slightest bit so his pants ran against you.

“Ben!” Your eyes squeezed shut, brain foggy with him.

“Are you really making me wait?” You shook your head, avoiding his gaze as yours shifted to where your shaking hands were now trying to undo his belt buckle.

As you worked to free him from his pants, Ben’s hands found their way back to your hips, slowly pushing up the fabric of his dress shirt so he could see what was lying underneath.

His mouth almost watered as the white lace was brought into view. He licked his lips at what the fabric was trying in vain at hiding.

Ben had to remind himself that you were not being rewarded now. That you’d disobeyed him at dinner and now was not the time to be relishing in how lovely you were.

He was brought out of his thoughts as your hand slid into his boxers.

He threw his head back and muttered a barely audible,

“Fuck.”

As your fingers wrapped around him, timidly moving up and down.

He looked at you, so focused on what you were doing, so desperate to make him feel good, needing to hear his words of praise. Ben guided you to straddle one leg as he began to rock his hips into your hand.

You were so trained on pleasing your fiancé, that you hadn’t even noticed that you’d begun grinding on his thigh.

Ben had noticed. He watched as your breathing became more rapid and how your strokes became less careful. You looked up, meeting his gaze, sucking in a breath at the primal look in his eyes.

His eyes flashed with pleasure as your thumb ran over the tip of his cock. His fingers stopped your hips and he said,

“Stop.” Right as you were about to come. You did as you were told but you couldn’t help the whine that escaped at the lack of sensation.

Ben rolled his eyes, the hands on your hips forcing you to grind into his leg once again. You moan, tossing your head back to avoid looking at him. The fucker was edging you.

“So Goddamn needy.” His hot touch on your skin was gone and you had to steady your breathing before looking at him again.

Ben had begun to unbutton the rest of your shirt, pushing it off of your shoulders once it was fully undone. He shamelessly raked his eyes over your body, grinning that evil grin as he did so.

Then, his hands were under your bottom, picking you up before setting you down on the bed.

“Are you going to behave now?” The dampening of your underwear at his words is embarrassing. Ben’s thumbs skim over your abdomen, right on the waistband of your underwear. Ben doesn’t break eye contact with you, smiling once again. He looks hot as hell, his fangs and the beard along with his crown.

Was he going to fuck you while wearing his crown? God you hoped so.

“Honey?” Ben lowered to his knees, fingers now on the sides of the lace fabric. You instinctively close your legs but Ben’s strong hands are there instantly, forcing them back open.

Embarrassment floods your system as you watch him look down, a shit-eating grin appearing on his face before his eyes return to yours.

“Keep them open.” His fingers dance dangerously close to the damp lace. “Answer my question, please.”

He’s so close that you can feel his breath fanning your core.

“Yes, Ben. Fuck! I’ll behave.” He kisses your inner thighs which are now practically shaking in his grasp. His mouth moves to your hips, right where your waistband is.

“Do you want to know a secret?”

“What?” You sound breathless.

He looks directly into your eyes.

“I’ve been able to smell you this entire time.”

You’re too late to react as Ben rips through the white lace with his teeth. His hands are keeping your thighs to the side and he looks at you for a moment: A shaking little mess before him, your cunt dripping and clenching around nothing. You watch as he smiles again, bracing yourself for the contact of his tongue, lips, and teeth.

His tongue licks your glistening cunt from the bottom up twice and your hand clamps over your mouth when his lips wrap around your aching clit.

And then.

Oh, fuck.

You’d forgotten about his facial hair.

The delicious roughness contrasting with his sweet mouth made the pleasure skyrocket.

Ben loved the taste of you. He was never able to get enough. So anytime he went down on you, he took all he could get. He moaned at the taste of you, the vibrations going straight through you.

Your hips lifted off of the bed as one of his hands moved off of your thigh and a thumb pressed hard against your swollen clit. At the same time, Ben bit into the soft skin of your thighs, marking his territory. He repeated his actions on the other side, now rolling your clit between his fingers.

If you weren’t covering your mouth, you were sure the whole castle would be able to hear you.

Ben’s mouth returned and you let out a scream as his teeth bit your clit gently. He let his tongue swirl around it as his thumb ran down your slit, parting your folds, exposing more of you to the cool air. He moved the slightest bit and the roughness of his mustache brushed against your clit, sending you into your awaiting orgasm.

Ben continued devouring you through it, eating you out like a beast, already wanting to get another one out of you like this. He looked up at you, realizing he hadn’t been able to hear you, eyes narrowing once again at the hand over your mouth. Your hips rocked again as he slid his middle finger into you easily but then he stopped all of his actions.

Your grown was muffled but one look from Ben and your hand fell to the side.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of being too loud…” his finger curled inside you and you let out a loud moan, a blush settling over your cheeks instantly. “…because I don’t care if anyone hears. They’ll know how good the king is fucking you, right?” His mouth was on yours again, finger pushing in and out of you slowly. Your hips jerk up and you moan into his mouth, making him smile into yours.

Ben pulls away, making you groan in frustration. As you sit up on your elbows, you watch as Ben steps away from the bed to undress and you know he's doing it slowly on purpose.

"Ben-"

“Shut up. You brought this on yourself, honey.”

Once again, your cheeks heat. His harsh glare makes your heart pound.

His eyes tear away from yours as he finishes undressing. Yours close, waiting for what's next half in anxiousness, half in eagerness. His warm hand on your knee snaps you out of your thoughts.

His tongue runs over his bottom lip before he brings it between his teeth. He pulls your body down and steps between your legs. Ben's hand settles on your neck again, smirking at the feeling of your racing pulse.

"Don't tell me you're nervous, sweetheart." You take a deep breath before looking into his eyes with a smirk of your own.

"Why would I be nervous if this is what I wanted?" His jaw sets as the smirk disappears.

And then under his breath,

"Such a fucking brat." Before his hand fully wraps around your throat as he brings his lips to yours.

Your hands reach up to wrap around his shoulders pulling him down on top of you.

You pull away when Ben bites your lip, tasting blood.

"Benjamin!"

His smirk is back.

"Oh, so you're using my full name now. I thought this is what you wanted." You glare at him as you run your tongue along the bite. His head dips as he kisses you again, sucking on your bottom lip. You are so enthralled with the feeling of his mouth on yours, you don't register what else he is doing until you feel the head of his cock pushing into you.

You act on instinct, pushing your hips into him but he pulls away.

"Don't be impatient. That stunt you played at dinner was cute and all but-"

"You thought it was cute?" You pout. "I thought you were going to punish me for it, my King."

With that, Ben pushes into you the rest of the way, wrapping his hand around your throat again, silencing any moan trying to escape.

"You were saying?" Your pelvic muscles clench around him which spurs him on further. "What's the matter, my love?" He pulls out of you and puts the slightest bit of pressure on your throat. "You want me to punish you?" He leans in to kiss you again but stops centimeters from your lips. "You asked for it."

Ben kisses you once again, hands now on your hip bones as his hips roll into yours at a brutal pace. Your hands wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you as he does the dirty work.

Your nails dig into his skin as you near your orgasm, pulling away from his lips as you struggle to catch your breath. Then suddenly, Ben stills inside of you and laughs as you whine.

"Would you like me to keep going?" You nod, although you know he will continue to fuck with you. "Really?" His lips find your neck again, kissing the spot beneath your ear. He grins against your skin at your whine. "Alright."

Ben begins to move ever-so-slowly. Annoyed, you begin to roll your hips into his but he is quick to stop you. His hands press your hips deep into the bed, forcing your movements to stop.

"Ben..." You trail off, eyes closing as Ben continues. He leans back, his beautiful smile gracing his face.

He gradually picks up speed, every movement into you brings you closer to the brink but Ben knows your body well. He's memorized your body and the ways it reacts to his. He knows that when you throw your head backward and try to cover your mouth to subdue the noises you're making that you're close. That's when he knows to stop.

"Fuck, Ben, please." He leans over you again, his beautiful smile still plastered on his beautiful face.

"Please what?" He has the audacity to rub soothing circles on your skin.

"Damnnit Ben." Your eyes are squeezed shut, unable to look him in the eyes. Ben leans over more, his lips brushing against yours.

"Please what, honey?" Your eyes open and narrow at him.

"I already asked Ben..." He chuckles.

"And I'm asking again." He raises his eyebrows. "Now unless you'd like me to," his hips roll again, "continue with your punishment, I suggest you use your words and answer my question."

"Benjamin," You pause briefly, waiting to see if he will stop you and make you use his title, but he doesn't. "Please, please, fuck me."

Ben smirks, making him impossibly more attractive.

"That's all you had to say." His hands grab your thighs, wrapping them around his waist before turning his smirk into a grin.

He moves again and it is glorious. Ben does all the work, which is fine for you because you're too enthralled with the pleasure to do anything about it. His hands tighten on your legs and pull you to him, bringing your bodies impossibly closer. His pace is brutal, fingers most definitely leaving bruises in their wake.

Instead of covering your mouth, your hands wander up his arms and pull him down to you again before resting on his broad shoulders. His crown glints in the light and your eyes roll at the sight. His hand leaves your thigh and reaches between your bodies to pinch your clit. To cover your moan, you pull his lips to yours, releasing it into his mouth. Ben smiles in return, rolling your clit between his fingers.

You break the kiss, gasping for air as your head is thrown back, He takes the opportunity to attack your neck again, his teeth gently biting at the soft skin.

His hips slam into yours once again and it pushes you over the edge. Your mouth opens in a silent scream, your body going limp in his arms.

Ben follows not far behind, groaning into your neck.

"Fuck."

After the two of you calm down, he pushes himself back, looking down at you.

"I'm sorry if I went a little overboard. I just-"

"Ben..."

"No seriously I-" You cut him off.

"Benjamin shut up." His eyes widen. You look up at him, a small smile on your lips. He watches with wide eyes as you push yourself up to sit under him. His smirk returns as you wince at the soreness he left you.

"Did you just tell me to-" You cut him off with a kiss, hands pulling his face to yours.

You break away from him and his eyes are wide.

"Ben, if you had gone overboard I would have told you." You kiss him again. "Besides, it's what I wanted." His eyes narrow.

"What?" You giggle, squishing his cheeks together before his hands wrap around your wrists, pulling your hands down. "Y/N, what did you just say?" You fall back onto the bed, laughing.

"I had this whole thing planned out, Bennie Boo." His eyes roll at his ex-girlfriend's nickname for him. "You were stressed and we hadn't..."

"Fucked?" He finishes for you.

"...in weeks, so I put this plan together to help you relieve your stress and so we could..." It's Ben's turn to grin.

"Say it."

"Make me."

His smile drops.

"Oh, you're asking for it now, sweetie." His lips were on yours before you could even think of a clever response.

I'M BACK!!!

bro ive literally been working on this for like 3 months.

:) ENJOY

#ben florian #ben florian smut #king ben x reader #ben descendants smut #king ben #ben florian x reader #descendants king ben #king Ben Florian #king Ben smut #descendants #ben descendants

[xcziel]

Liu Sang in the car with Wu Xie on the way to go shopping?

#liu sang #liu chang #path 2 paradise verse #p2p liu sang #can't help falling in love with you fic #why am i making poor quality gifs instead of sleeping? idk liu chang's face cheers me up #xcedits

[mrsamaroevans]

TIGHTROPE PT. 2 | MIGUEL GALINDO

Fandom: Mayans M.C.

Pairing: Miguel Galindo x Female Reader. This follows from: Tightrope.

Request: Yes!

Words: 4,052.

Warnings: English is not my first language, so, sorry if there are grammar mistakes or if the redaction is poor.

A/N: Guys, without joking, I’ve been writing this since the first part was posted and that was nearly a year ago lol. But it’s finally here and I hope you like it! *Gif is not mine*

|| MY MASTERLIST ||

“Never sure, never know how far we could fall”

The past eight months, Miguel never felt so out of place like he was feeling by day four you were out of the house. He’s been feeling so bad not only emotionally because you were not with him, but physically ‘cause he started to catch a cold. His meetings with Potter were frustrating him even more and he was more tired than ever to have meetings with Los Olvidados or the MC.

He took a look at the last months of his life and he knew he had screwed everything up. Miguel hated himself for that; not Potter, not Los Olvidados or the MC. Him. He was the only one to blame for the situation his marriage was in.

That night when Cristobal was sick, he told you how sorry he was and promised you he would make an effort to be more at home. Two months ago, he had the chance to change the way your marriage was going and he didn’t do anything.

You’ve been together since you were sixteen. He knew about the loveless marriage your parents were living in because that was the reason why he had to work so hard for you to accept the first date. Miguel remembers how much you tried to avoid your feelings for him, how careful you were with every step of your relationship. He promised you he wasn’t going to hurt you and he didn’t. When he had to go to Cornell? You tried to break up with him, arguing about all the time he would be away with those pretty New Yorkers but he assured you, you were the only one who he could want to be with. Miguel did everything he had in his hand to make your long-distance relationship work, and instead of feeling away from him, you felt like nothing was different.

He did everything right back then, so right that when he proposed in the winter holidays of his fourth year in Cornell, you accepted without hesitation.

Why couldn’t he be like the twenty-two-year-old Miguel Galindo?

Miguel saw your face appearing on the computer’s screen and suddenly, he started to feel better. He texted you asking you to do a video call and felt relief when you accepted.

At least you didn’t want to avoid him the two weeks you were going to be away.

“Hey! How are you?” He asked and you smiled. Miguel loved seeing how passionate you were about your job, so he smiled for the simple fact of seeing you smiling.

“Fine,” you said “And you? You sound different,” you asked, a bit concerned.

“I’m catching a cold, but I’m fine,” Miguel said nonchalantly.

“There’s medicine in the cabinet of our bathroom,” you told him “You should take some before you feel worse”

“I’m better now that I’m talking to you,” Miguel said and you chuckled immediately “What?”

“You did it too soon,” you said and added when he frowned: “Trying to make me fall in your arms again”

Miguel laughed. He wasn’t trying that, he was just being honest, but now that you touched the subject…

“I know you said we’d talk about it once you come back, but…”

“And we’ll do it” you interrupted him and Miguel understood you didn’t want to talk about it at that moment “I had an interview earlier, that’s why I’m all dressed up,” you said, changing the subject.

“I think you look gorgeous,” he said, and when he saw the look you gave him, he laughed “And how did that interview go?”

Miguel and you talked about a bunch of stuff. You told him about the process of publication of your book and he listened to every single word that came out of your mouth. He didn’t realize how much he missed hearing you talk until now, and when you least expected it, you and your husband talked for three hours straight, something that hadn’t happened in so long.

“You know? This takes me back to those four years you were at Cornell” You said and Miguel nodded.

“Yeah… our old computers didn’t have this quality but, yeah, they helped us,” Miguel said and when he was about to say something else, he saw you turn your attention somewhere else.

“Oh, hi baby” he heard you say and Miguel knew immediately who was the person that walked in the room where you were “Just be careful, Lucy, please”

“I’ll come back as soon as it ends, Mrs. Galindo,” a feminine voice said and then he saw Cristobal in your arms.

“It’s okay, have fun” You smiled, and then the door got closed “You wanna see daddy? Look who’s there!” You pointed to the screen and Cristobal looked at it. A smile appeared when he saw his father and Miguel smiled as well.

“I miss you two so much,” Miguel said, feeling tears in his eyes at seeing you both smiling so wide, but, a thought he didn’t like at all came to his head.

You seemed happier now than in the past eight months and it broke his heart because he felt so alone. Every night he expects to walk in your bedroom and see you sleeping, kiss your head, —kisses you never felt— and lay at your side. But all that he finds is an empty and cold bed.

Miguel didn’t want a future without you and he knew he had to work really hard to keep you in his life.

||

“What are you thinking, Mickey?”

Miguel looked at his friend, he didn’t even realize he was that quiet and thoughtful. Nestor sat down on the stool next to his and looked at him.

“You miss her so much” Nestor teased once Miguel didn’t say anything.

“I do” Miguel nodded, he had a glass of scotch in his hand and when he took a sip, he realized it was already warm, so he left it aside “I fucked it up, hermano. We never had this distance before, not even when I was at Cornell… and it’s all my fault”

“Well, it’s a progress that you already accepted it,” he said and Miguel scoffed.

“At what damn moment” Miguel sighed and leaned his forearms in the bar “I feel like I’m losing her”

“She thinks the same about you” Nestor confessed, making Miguel look at him.

He should have expected it. You and Nestor started to spend a lot of time together since he was your driver. You met Nestor at the same moment you met Miguel, you were friends, it was obvious you would talk to him.

“You can’t lose her, Miguel,” Nestor told him “(Y/n) and Cristobal are the best things that have happened to you, not the cartel, not the protection you’re having from Los Olvidados… your family”

Nestor was right and Miguel knew it. Not anyone would stand his life and everything that comes with it, but you? You were there since the beginning, you never judged any of his decisions. He was so lucky to have you in his life, ‘cause people could talk shit about him, the cartel could be crumbling down, but at the end of the day, when he walked through the door of your home, you were there, welcoming him with a smile and a kiss. You were all that he needed.

“I know,” Miguel said, immediately “I have always known that, I just… I don’t know what happened, I’m trying to remember but… I can’t. I thought we were fine, I thought I was just working like before and then my son got sick and if I hadn't woken up in the middle of the night, I wouldn't have even noticed” he sighed again, summed in frustration “I didn’t want to be the absent father and husband my father was and here I am. My wife is miles away from me and she looks happier”

“Don’t you think is because you’ve been talking every day?” Nestor asked, raising an eyebrow at him “She loves you, Miguel. Never doubt about it… I’m going to the airport tomorrow for her, you wanna come?”

Miguel nodded. He would do all that it takes to bring his family back.

||

You had your son in your arms as the babysitter helped you with your suitcase. You missed so much your home that you were so happy that your days in New York came to an end, and for the giant smile Cristobal had, you knew he was also happy, even if he didn’t understand what was going on.

“Let’s find uncle Nestor, you’re gonna help me?” You asked, looking at your son’s face. He smiled at you and wrapped his arms around your neck.

“Over there, Mrs. Galindo” Lucy said, pointing away and when you turned around, you froze for a moment.

Miguel was there with Nestor, and when he spotted you, he started to make his way through the crowd to reach you. You didn’t know what to do for a moment, he surely surprised you ‘cause Nestor told you he had a meeting with Los Olvidados that day. You definitely didn’t expect him to be there.

“Look, baby… it’s daddy” you told Cristobal and he looked at where you were pointing “It’s daddy, baby…”

As soon as Miguel reached you, Cristobal stretched out his arms to his father, and being as happy as never in the last eight months, Miguel took him out of your arms.

You took the chance to turn to the babysitter “Lucy, thank you so much for helping me… we drive you home?” You asked, but she shook her head no.

“My brother is picking me up,” She said.

“Are you sure?” You asked again but she only nodded, “Thank you so much again… Cristobal, say bye to Lucy,” you said, grabbing your suitcase and caressing Cristobal’s back.

The babysitter smiled when Cristobal waved his tiny hand at her, and then she started to walk to look for her brother.

As soon as she walked away, Miguel used his free hand to cup your cheek and kissed you before you could object. You pulled back, frowning, and with a small smile on your face “Someone is too affectionate today”

“I missed you,” Miguel said “And I’m not talking only about these past two weeks…”

“It’s not the place, Miguel,” You told him, but stood on your toes to kiss his lips again “Let’s go home…”

Miguel held your hand the whole way home, he asked you about the flight and about your last two days in New York that you couldn’t talk.

“You’re too affective today” You whispered, looking at him and grinning when he caressed the back of your hand with his thumb. He smiled and turned to you “How’s your mom?” You asked to change the subject.

“Happy ‘cause you’re coming back,” he said “She also missed you two… I think Cristobal helps her with her treatment”

You looked back at Cristobal, who was busy playing with a stuffed bear in his car seat “I also noticed that… what did she say about the psychologist?”

Miguel sighed and you half-smiled, you didn’t need more to know what your mother-in-law thought about that idea “You know her, she doesn’t want to go to a loquero”

“Well, we knew she’d say that” Miguel nodded at your words “Maybe Dr. Kamen can convince her… I’ll talk to her, don’t worry”

Again, Miguel realized he didn’t deserve you. He didn’t know what he had done to have you in his life, you were too good to be true ‘cause even after all that distance, you were there for him, having his back like you had done since you were sixteen.

So he kissed your hand and you smiled.

When Nestor parked outside your house, Miguel leaned to the backseat to take Cristobal as you jumped off from the SUV and smiled when you saw Dita in the front door.

“You’re finally here, querida,” She said, walking to you and hugging you “How was your trip?”

“It was great,” You said, and as soon as Miguel appeared with your son in his arms, Dita’s eyes sparkled.

“Oh, mijo, I missed you so much” Dita smiled and Miguel let her take Cristobal in her arms “You must be hungry,” Dita told you and you couldn’t hide the fact she was right “Let’s go inside, lunch is ready”

That night, even though Miguel wanted to be with you when you bathed Cristobal, he received a call and couldn’t make it. You weren’t mad. You understood that besides his family, he also had other important things to take care of, also, you saw in his eyes that he wanted to fix things up. He didn’t want to lose you and you also didn’t want to lose him.

“Sorry for that,” he said as soon as he crossed the door of your bedroom. Cristobal was in his bed already and you knew he wouldn’t wake up until the morning arrives “I went to see Cristobal… he looks tired”

You smiled.

“Yeah… he was,” you said, taking your earrings off and leaving them on your bedside table. You were tired as well, you would put them to your jeweler tomorrow.

“You also are... We can talk tomorrow”

“No. I promised we would when we had time alone” You said, turning to him and patting the bed for him to sit at your side “What did you want to tell me?”

“I’m sorry” It was the first thing he said “I know I haven’t kept all the promises I made the day we got married. You’re the most amazing wife and mother out there and I haven’t appreciated you the way I should” he shook his head and leaned his head back looking at the ceiling “I used to say that I work a lot, but now I know that’s not an excuse. ‘Cause, you work a lot too and you haven’t neglected our son, our house, or our marriage… I can see it now”

Our marriage.

Those two words made you shiver. You have confronted him about Adelita’s baby and you were afraid that the words he used just confirmed your biggest fear. But he could see that in your eyes, ‘cause he started to shake his head.

“I swear to God, amor, that between Adelita and I never happened anything,” he said, grabbing your hands. There were tears in his eyes, afraid of you not believing him “I can see why would you think that and, unfortunately, I have nothing else than my word for you to believe me” you looked him in the eyes, you wanted to have proofs but how could you have them? You had to trust him “You’re the only woman I have ever love and that’s how it’s gonna be forever. You can trust me”

“I do,” You said after a few seconds “If you say nothing happened, then nothing happened”

“Nothing” Miguel insisted, sitting closer as one of his arms landed on your shoulders and kissed your head.

“Thank you for not ignoring my feelings,” you said with your eyes closed. You missed having him so close, the smell of his cologne taking you to all the happy memories at his side.

“I’m sorry it took me too long to finally see it” he got a few inches apart from you, so you opened your eyes and looked up at him. You couldn’t deny it, you were a bit disappointed for that action “And… I know this is not romantic but…” you leaned back to see him better. Miguel was nervous and the only times he was like that were, when he asked you for the first date, when he proposed to you and when your son was born “We’ve been married for ten years now, and if you want… I want to renew our vows”

You were surprised.

You didn’t know anyone who wanted to renew their votes. The only thing that you heard of marriages when you were young, was that they were so tired of being in them.

“Miguel…” you barely whispered when he got on one knee in front of you. His hand grabbed a small black velvet box from his suit coat and opened it.

“Would you like to marry me again?” Miguel grabbed one of your hands as you were still trying to find your voice “I can’t promise you I won’t make mistakes again because I’m not perfect, but I promise to always put you and my family first”

You smiled. Your eyes getting watery as you nodded.

Miguel sighed in relief and took your engagement ring off your finger to place the new one “I love you” he told you as he stood and the next thing he did was cupping your cheeks to kiss you.

You accepted his lips, leaned back, and held from his dress shirt where you looked for its buttons as the kiss went from sweet to passionate. It had been so long since the last time he touched you like he was doing it at that moment, and your heart melted when you realized that his touch felt the same as always.

But, of course, the moment was interrupted by Miguel’s phone.

“Are you kidding me?” He said, irritated at whoever he was talking to “Potter wants to talk now? Does he know what time is it?”

You sat in the bed and looked at him as he walked around the room. You bite your lower lip as you recognized Alvarez’s voice coming out of the device and from what you could hear, you knew Miguel had to leave.

“No… tell him I won’t go anywhere”

You walked towards him and stood in front of him so he could see you. Just by looking at your face, he shook his head, but stopped when you placed one of your hands on his chest “Go. They need you” you whispered.

Miguel covered the microphone and shook his head again “I got it, amor, they won’t interrupt us”

“I’ll be here when you come back,” you told him with a smile as you wrapped your arms around his middle and left a soft kiss on his chest. He didn’t understand how he could deserve someone like you “Go. It’s okay”

He sighed and gave in “I’ll come back as soon as I can,” Miguel said kissing you, before walking out of the room as he buttoned his shirt.

Your eyes stayed at the door for a couple of seconds and when you looked down at your left hand, you smiled at seeing the new ring on your finger. If you wanted a proof, that could be. The butterflies in your stomach made you giggle while you made your way to the bathroom to take a shower.

Half an hour later, you were doing your skincare routine. You had a small smile while remembering the past weeks and how you were feeling things were changing just stepping into Californian ground. It all started to feel like before and you were not even afraid that things could change for worse. What happened today was proof enough for you to be sure that you could overcome anything.

You turned to your left when you heard the bedroom door being closed. After placing all the products where they belonged, you walked back to the bedroom just in time when Miguel was about to call your name.

“What happened? Potter just wanted to say hi?” You asked and Miguel chuckled at your joke as he was taking his coat off.

“I was in the car and I realized that I didn’t care what he wanted, so I asked Alvarez to come back,” Miguel said, unbuttoning his shirt and looking directly at you “I want to spend this night with you and nor Potter nor anyone is gonna interrupt”

“Amor… I was being honest when I told you it was okay” You told him smiling once he reached you.

“I’ll deal with him tomorrow” Miguel smirked and pulled off the strip from your robe “I love you”

Your hands cupped his cheeks “I love you too”

| ONE YEAR LATER |

The sky was bright blue. There were no clouds and the weather was perfect. Miguel and Cristobal were in the pool while you watched them from the bed in the tent Miguel asked to be built. They were having fun until the little one wanted some cookies from the kitchen and as demanding as his father, he wanted to go for them.

“We have fruit here,” You told your son, pointing at the bowls on the table as Miguel helped him to take his blue lifejacket off. Cristobal pouted and shook his head no.

“I want cookies” he insisted.

“Fine, just two,” you said and your son nodded. he grabbed his father’s hand and dragged him all the way to the kitchen.

You smiled watching them going inside the house. Their curls and swimsuits dripping water as they walked. There was no doubt that Cristobal was looking more and more like his father as the days go on.

The giggles of your son became louder as they approached the tent. You looked up from your phone and saw your son with two cookies in both of his hands. You turned to Miguel, questioning him with your gaze.

The expression on his face was saying “I couldn’t do anything”

“I said just two cookies, hun,” you told your husband once Cristobal sat near you.

“I told him so,” Miguel said quickly “Tell your mother what you told me”

Cristobal smiled when you ran your fingers through his hair “Two for me and two for little brother” he looked at you and then turned to the bassinet at your side. You couldn’t stop your laugh and neither did Miguel.

“But little brother can’t eat cookies yet,” you told him.

“Can I eat them for him?” Cristobal asked looking up at you with a big smile, trying to look as innocent as he could.

You looked at Miguel who didn’t even try to hide his smirk. Like father, like son.

“Fine,” you told him “but you’ll have to wait an hour before you go to the pool again”

Cristobal nodded too eagerly probably not knowing what an hour meant, and when Miguel was about to say something, your youngest son started to whine “Hey, little man. What’s wrong?” he asked taking the baby in his arms and trying to coo him, “I know, I know. You don’t want to see me now; you want your mami”

You smiled when Miguel kissed his forehead to place it in your arms so he could eat.

Miguel laid on the bed with Cristobal, they were close to you but not enough so they wouldn’t get you or the baby wet. He was having a conversation with his son, at least, the kind of conversation a three-year-old kid could maintain, which soon started to fade away and when you looked at them, you saw your oldest son sleeping on Miguel’s chest.

“He gave up,” Miguel said with a smile when he noticed you were watching them. One of his hands was on Cristobal’s back and the other in his hair “You want to try for a girl?”

You chuckled while patting your newborn child on the back “It’s been only six days since this little one came out of me… give me two years to forget the pain and we can talk about it”

“We have a deal here” He smiled at you and then kissed his son’s head “I think he likes being the big brother”

“Yeah, he gets extra cookies” you both chuckled at that “Today was wonderful”

“Every day at your side is wonderful”

“Ugh, cheesy” you laughed and Miguel looked at you pretending to be offended.

“I’m not taking it back, because it’s true” Miguel shrugged as best as the kid in his chest let him “I love you, you know it”

“Hun… I love you too”

Miguel stood there, lying in bed and looking at you and your sons. He was thankful that you had given him another chance, ‘cause he realized by looking at you three, that he couldn’t see his life without you.

“Hand in my hand and you promised to never let go”

Tags: @luckyharley1903​

|| MY MASTERLIST ||

#miguel galindo #miguel galindo x oc #miguel galindo fanfiction #miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo imagine #miguel galindo x you #miguel galindo x female reader #Mayans MC #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fic #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfic #sons of anarchy fandom

[noladyme]

The Wife - Chapter 2

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. As rumors spread that Mr. James Delaney had returned to England – making a dramatic arrival at his father’s funeral – you might imagine mothers throughout London, rushing to present their marriable daughters to the man. They did not; and for three very good reasons. First; James Keziah Delaney was clearly damaged from his travels, and not a little dangerous. Secondly; it was the general opinion of the better society that Mr. Delaney had inherited his mother’s madness. Thirdly; Mr. Delaney was not single. In fact, he was very much married.

TW: angst, violence, blood, smut (7467 words)

He came to her, as she stood in the middle of a meadow of white flowers. As he walked towards her, the flowers he passed wilted. “Why are you here?”, Rosalind asked. “Because I cannot stay away”, James said. She put her hands on his broad, naked chest; and felt his heart beat as if he was really there, and not a dream vision. “Then don’t… I waited. Even after they told me you died; I still waited!”. “Why?”, James asked; putting his forehead to hers. “You know why, my love”. James pulled back from her, and pointed at the wilted flowers behind him. “This is what I bring. This is what will happen to you, if you let me in”. “You won’t hurt me”, Rosalind said, and reached for his hand.

He disappeared in the same moment, and appeared again, a way off from her. The white flowers were now all dead. “Death follows where I go. Do not put yourself in danger… I should not be here. Wake up”.

She woke with a start. The sun was already peaking through the gap in the curtains, and the room was cold. A wilted flower lay on the pillow next to her.

---

Two days later, Rosalind was seated on a plush sofa in countess Musgrove’s day room. She had long since given up on the card game, as the stakes were much too dear for her purse; and she was feeling dizzy and out of sorts. “I tell you, that feather made all the difference. Within minutes, he was meek as a lamb, and pleading with me to end the torture, and just let him finish!”.

The ladies in the room all laughed at the countess’ story. Musgrove herself relished in the attention, before turning to Rosalind. “Miss Beauchamp… or should I say; Mrs. Delaney”. The ladies all cackled. “Tell me; how is it, having your husband back?”. “Much as it was before he returned”, Rosalind said, surprised by her own bluntness. “Are you still being courted by that dashing Mr. Geary, then?”, a well-fed lady, who’s name Rosalind did not remember, asked. “I’ve never found him… dashing. And he smells like herring”. Rosalind could not cover the disdain in the voice.

The countess got up, and walked over to join her on the sofa. Her blue, silk gown covered most of the seat. It reminded her of water; and for a moment Rosalind considered stroking her fingers against it, to see if they would breach the surface of the fabric. The countess poured her another cup of tea, and handed it to her. “Please. I have it made especially”, she smiled. Rosalind took a sip, and tried – unsuccessfully – to hide how bitter the taste was. “It is not in everyone’s taste, of course. But quite expensive, I assure you”. “I’m sure it is”, Rosalind said.

The countess popped a meringue into her mouth. “Now, your husband…”, she said, after finishing chewing. “I hear he’s quite the brute”. “He wasn’t when I met him. Now, I do not know; to be honest”. “He has not moved you in to his house. Why?”. “You guess is as good as mine, my lady”, Rosalind said. “Perhaps he knows I am quite comfortable with Mrs. Owen”. “Bah, that old gossip monger”, the countess scoffed. “My maid tells me, she runs her mouth to every man or woman who will listen, about her tenants”. “I am not surprised. But my lodgings are fitting to my income, as it is”.

Musgrove raised an amused and overly painted eyebrow at her; while Rosalind took another sip of tea. “Are they? I hear your formerly dearly departed, now very much alive husband, is about to make quite a lot of money; from selling a plot of land. I’m sure you’ll be moving up in the world soon… You might not even need to take employment with me, the next time my niece visits”.

This was how Rosalind had met countess Musgrove a little over a year earlier; as she was entertaining her husband’s niece from Germany. The poor girl needed a chaperone for the rambunctious parties the countess hosted; and Rosalind had held the flabbergasted girl’s hand, as they made their way through rooms filled with acrobats and magicians. She had soon returned to Hanover, but Rosalind had been continuously invited to all the parties at the countess’ home; and had each time sent back a polite decline. She had accepted the occasional invitation for tea, and sat through the ridiculous gossip and banter such occasions had provided.

“I was not aware. We have not spoken much, since his return”, Rosalind said. “I have only seen him twice, and he never spoke of land or money”. She cleared her throat, feeling it suddenly dry. She could not stop herself from saying things, she felt she shouldn’t.

“But you must have heard about the land in America. Nootka Sound”, Musgrove said. “Here; have some more tea, for your cough”. She poured another cup for Rosalind; who took a large sip. “Only from Mr. Thoyt, my father-in-law’s lawyer”. A strange expression ghosted the countess’ face. “Mr. Thoyt… He has been in contact with you?”. “Well, I was the sole heiress to the Delaney estate, so yes”, Rosalind said. She took another sip of tea. “All my husband has spoken of; is how he believes someone is out to kill him”.

Rosalind halted herself. She felt as if she could not stop the words going through her head, from coming out of her mouth. Her hands shook, and she set down the cup on the small table next to her. “I’m terribly sorry, but I am feeling unwell. Would you mind having a carriage take me back to town?”. Musgrove took her hand. “Oh my dear! Are you sure you do not want to have a lie down in one of the guest rooms?”. “No, please. I should like to go home”, Rosalind insisted.

Musgrove got up, and walked over to one of the footmen, and said something below her breath. “… when she’s asleep…”, Rosalind thought she heard the countess say. She used her hand to fan herself; feeling not hot, but still like fresh air might do her good, in her faintness. When she looked up again, the other ladies were whispering at the card table, and the countess had disappeared off to somewhere. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when they opened again, she was alone, but for the countess, who had returned. “Come my dear. The carriage awaits”.

Rosalind managed getting into the carriage without too much help from the coachman. The countess waved her off, as they drove away. For a while, they drove down the roads leading from the Musgrove manor to London; and Rosalind let herself relax against the window. It became dusk while they drove, and the trip took longer than Rosalind expected. The coachman took a few turns she knew were wrong. “Driver, this is not the way back to town”, she called out. She noticed some of the same trees she’d seen earlier. “Why are you taking me back to the manor?”.

There was no answer, but the carriage halted, and she heard the coachman get down. Suddenly, the door opened, and the coachman entered the carriage; startling her. He pulled out a handkerchief, and pressed it against her face; with a firm grip to the back of her head. Rosalind screamed through the fabric, but when she inhaled, a strong acidic smell hit her nose; and she suddenly felt dizzier than before. “Sleep now, miss. You’ll feel better in the morning”, the coachman said. Rosalind let out another scream, and weakly struck at his head; before she had to give in. She had no fight left in her.

Another person entered the carriage; striking hard at the coachman’s head. A knife shaped as a claw slid across his abdomen, and Rosalind saw blood flowing from the wound. “Go back to Musgrove. Tell her the lady will be disinclined to return for tea, until she serves something of a better quality; and less disturbing to the senses”, James voice growled. Rosalind let out a gasp of relief mixed with exhaustion. She found it difficult to keep her eyes open, but managed to meet James’ eyes for a moment, as he pulled her out of the carriage, and tried to set her on her feet. “Can you walk?”, he asked. “No”, Rosalind replied; unable to raise her voice above a whisper. She collapsed against him, her face buried against his shoulder. She held on to his collar, but couldn’t stay on her feet. “Rose”, James breathed. Then everything went black.

---

There were flashes of lucidness. Leaning against a strong shoulder, seated in an open carriage. The smell of gutters, and sounds of laughing people. A street light forcing her to cover her eyes. A voice she knew, speaking a language she didn’t. Being carried up squeaking steps. A warm hand stroking her forehead.

She woke in a bed she knew well, and had slept in it many nights, years before. She was in the bed she was meant to have shared with James after they’d been wed, but had instead ended up sleeping in on her own, after he’d left. The room was darker than it had been when she had lived there; in spite of the fireplace being lit, and the candles set up on the nightstand.

Looking down at herself, she saw that her jacket had been removed, as well as her shoes; but otherwise, she was fully clothed. James was seated on a chair in the far corner; his expression dark and hard. “Did you kill him?”, Rosalind asked. “No. I had a use for him. He needed to send a message to your friends, the countess”, he said. “I did kill the pharmacist that sold her maid the powders she put in your tea, to make you compliant”. Rosalind shuddered at his words. “What happened to you, James?”, she asked. “I was always this. You are just seeing it now”, he replied. She sat herself up, leaning against the headboard.

They sat for a moment in silence, before Rosalind could take it no longer. “Will you not come closer? I can hardly see you in the darkness”. “I should not be close to you right now. I am very angry”, James replied. Rosalind went to get out of bed. “No, stay there”. “Are you angry with me?”, she asked. “Do I have reason to be?”. “I don’t know”, Rosalind admitted. “I know nothing about your dealings, and yet I fear I’ve let too much be known to others”. James nodded. “You did. But no; I am not angry with you”. Rosalind leaned forwards. “Then come closer. You won’t hurt me”. James got on his feet. “Do you believe I would hurt you, if I was angry with you?”. “No”, Rosalind replied.

A log in the fireplace cracked, and the embers lit up James face. His lips were parted, as if he was to speak again; but instead, he slowly walked towards the bed. Once close to her, Rosalind reached for his hand, and he sat down on the edge of the bed; allowing her to merge her fingers with his. “You put yourself in danger, when I asked you not to”.

“I didn’t know having tea could be dangerous”, she said. Swallowing hard, she met his blue eyes. In spite of the crows feet and the scar, they were still the same.

“You visited me in my dreams”, she said timidly. “Hmm”, James muttered. “I’m sure I’ve visited you there many times”. “But you did…”, she insisted “This does not sound like madness to you?”. “Madness that I believe you can do so?”, Rosalind said. James merely grunted as a reply. “You died, and then you came back. I believe you can do many things”. “Hmm��”, James grunted. Rosalind turned his hand in hers, and pulled it up to kiss his palm. “If you want to see me, don’t come to me in dreams”, she said. “I have dreamt of you too often. I want to you there when I am awake”.

James pulled his hand back abruptly, and got off the bed. He looked hard at her. “You are no longer safe on your own. You will move back into this house, where I can protect you”. “Is that the only reason why you want me here?”, Rosalind asked. She reached for his hand again, but he recoiled from her. “Sleep now”, James demanded. “You still have chemicals in you, it is why you are saying such foolish things. There is no such thing as visiting another person’s dreams”.

He left the room without another word.

---

The smell of coffee and bacon woke her. Rosalind gingerly stepped out of the bed; testing to see if her legs would hold. Once she was satisfied that they would, she looked under the bed. There, covered in a thick layer of dust, stood a pair of slippers. She smiled to herself, happy that she’d been correct in thinking she had left them here, when she’d departed the house 9 years before. They still fit.

She made her way down the stairs, into the sitting room. Two places had been set up for breakfast, and Brace was happily putting down a plate of eggs and bacon by the chair closest to the lit fireplace. The dog was laying in front of the fire, and lifted its head for a moment, when she entered. “Good morning, ma’am… or, miss”, he smiled. “I am glad to have you back in the house”. “Just a few days ago, you seemed to rather have me anywhere but here”, Rosalind chuckled, and seated herself in front of the delicious smelling food. “Well, maybe you can straighten him out. Lord knows, I can’t”, Brace replied, and poured her a cup of coffee.

“Bacon, Brace? We don’t eat pork”, James grunted; suddenly appearing in the doorway. He was dressed in trousers, and a blue shirt that was not tucked in. Tattoos were visible on his chest and neck, and the shirt exposed more of his skin than Rosalind had ever seen before. He was tanned, and looked strong. Heat pooled in Rosalind’s lower belly, and she had to look away. “Which is why I made you porridge”, Brace replied. “There’s no reason the lady should suffer, because you won’t eat anything from the market”. Rosalind stifled a smile, and raised a fork to her lips. “You bought this at the market?”, James asked. Brace nodded, and James sprang towards Rosalind; grabbing the fork from her, and throwing her plate into the fireplace. Some of the food landed in her lap. “James!”, Rosalind yelped. James raised an angry finger at Brace. “How many times must I tell you; we only eat what comes from Atticus. He is the only one I trust!”.

Rosalind got on her feet, and wiped the food of her skirt with a napkin. The dog got on its feet, and came over to eat the scraps that landed on the floor. James looked at her, his gaze slightly embarrassed. “I will have your things delivered here today”, he said. “Your clothes, and whatnot”. “I never agreed to stay”, Rosalind replied. Brace looked disappointed. “You don’t have a choice. What happened last night should be proof of that”, James retorted. “And, you are my wife. It is only proper”. “And you are all about propriety, are you?”. She let her eyes travel toward his partly uncovered chest. “I will fetch my own things, thank you". “I don’t want you leaving this house, until I’m sure it’s safe", James said.

Rosalind sighed in irritation. “Brace, I should like to eat in my room. Porridge will be fine”. “Honey?”, Brace asked. “Jam, please. If you have it”, she replied, and exited the room with as much pride in her step as she could muster. She heard another plate being smashed as she went; and hurried up the stairs.

---

She didn’t leave her room the rest of the day. Rosalind knew James was right. Though she had no idea why she was in danger, someone – quite possibly the countess Musgrove – had tried to kidnap her. Angry as she was at him, being in James’ presence – in his house – made her feel safer.

During the day, she heard shuffling upstairs in the attic. Heavy items being moved around, and steps across the floor. The senior Delaney had used the attic as an office, she knew, but she had only been up there a few times; and when she had, her father-in-law had been in a drunken stupor, and she’d had to help Brace get him down to his bed. The thought of James in the same condition, mad and rambling, made her heart sting with pain.

In the evening, she decided to go downstairs for dinner; needing a change of scenery. Her chest and travelling luggage stood in the hallway. On top of the chest, stood the new boots; still unused. She stood for a moment, looking at them, before walking in to the sitting room; where James sat at the dining table, bent over what looked like salted beef and potatoes. Rosalind sat down at the opposite end of the table.

“I’ll have to burn your old boots, if you keep refusing to wear the ones, I got for you”, James said; eyes fixed on his plate. “You don’t want me leaving the house. I don’t need boots”, Rosalind replied. James grunted nonsensically in response. “What was that?”. “Eat your food”. “Are you sure it’s not poisoned?” He looked up at her with narrowed eyes. “You should watch your tongue”, he said. “I am not afraid of you, James”, Rosalind snarled. “You should be. I am a dangerous man”. He returned to his food.

Rosalind poked at the meat on her plate. It looked unappetizing, and she decided to only eat the potatoes. “If you insist on keeping me here, I should like to know why", she said. James gave her a quick look, before downing a glass of brandy. “You don’t want to be here?”, he asked. “You don’t seem to want me here, and I prefer not to overstay my welcome with anyone”. She put a piece of potato in her mouth, and chewed as femininely as possible; considering the undercooked consistency. She suspected these potatoes were of the kind, which would never be possible to cook properly.

James leaned back, and watched her intently. "Did my father ever give you any documents for safe keeping?”, he asked. “Something that might look like a contract, or a deed?”. Rosalind shook her head confusedly. Brace came into the room, with a tray of bread. “No. He wouldn’t let me near anything official looking. I was more or less an ornament, while I stayed here last". James narrowed his eyes at her. “How long did you live here?”. “A little over a year. Up until your letters stopped, and your father became too cruel", Brace said. James tensed up at this statement. “He wasn’t cruel", Rosalind said. “He was just in pain. He missed his son, and I reminded him of that". James studied her face intently. “You always seek out the good in others; almost to a fault, miss", Brace said. Rosalind blushed at Brace's words, though she was quite sure they were not truly a compliment.

She looked at James again. “You did not answer my question. Why am I here? And why did someone try to kidnap me yesterday?”. James looked at Brace, who shook his head almost pleadingly. “The lady wants to know”, James said. “Nootka Sound. Do you know of it?”. The old butler left the room, looking unhappy. “Not much. I’ve heard it is a plot of land in America". “Hmm…”, he grunted. “It is an area on the north-west coast. And it’s mine". Rosalind carved another piece of potato. “I was told you were about to sell it”, she said. “That is what they want. They tried killing me, so they could buy it from you, but they haven’t managed so far", James said.

A chill went through Rosalind’s body. “You’re not selling?”. “No. I intend to use it for myself. It’s located in a strategically beneficial place for trade…”.

James looked at her, as if he anticipated her next question. “And who are they?”, she asked. “The ones who want you to sell?”. He seemed to consider whether she was to be trusted enough to hear what was to come; before finally coming to a conclusion, and continuing. “The crown wants the land, to control the Americans; and the East India Trading Company wants it for naval trade. To add to them, are the Americans, who also want their hands on it. That is why Musgrove was trying to put her claws into you, yesterday”. “The countess is French", Rosalind said. James shook his head. “She is from New Orleans. An American spy”, he said. “All three parties believe they can use you; that if they have you, they can convince me to sell to them”. Rosalind pushed away her plate, and looked hard at James. “My life and yours are in danger, because you won’t sell a plot of land you’ve never even seen?”, she asked. “They probably won’t kill you like they would me, but rape and torture is certainly a possibility”, James said matter-of-factly. He raised a bottle. “Brandy?”. Rosalind shook her head. “I changed my mind. You are mad, James…”, she said; and pushed her glass forwards. “Make it a double”.

James got on his feet, and walked over to her, filling her glass. “I have a plan to keep you safe, and me alive”, he said. Rosalind raised the glass to her lips, and took a sip. “It is why you must stay here with me – and be my wife again”. Rosalind almost choked on her drink. “I… what?”. James handed her a napkin, and she wiped her mouth. “I am making arrangements to travel to America”, he said, and topped off her glass. “I can continue those preparations in secret, if we convince all three parties that I have instead decided to sell”. “How do we do that?”, Rosalind asked. “By you moving in here permanently”, he said. “They will believe that I have reunited with my wife. We are very happy, and I’ve decided that my future lies in England. It gives me free range to continue my preparations”.

Rosalind got on her feet, and reached for James hand; but he stepped back, to put some distance between them. “James…”, she said almost pleadingly. “Each of the potential buyers will want to keep me happy, so they will all be working to keep each other at bay. No one will touch you”, James said. And neither will you, apparently, Rosalind thought to herself. “This way, you are protected, until it is no longer necessary”. “And when will that be?”. “That is still to be determined”. James went back to his seat. “I am yet to purchase a ship, and I’m also still working on safe passage through the American blockade”. “And after you get that?”, Rosalind asked. “After I get that, I will go. You will be free of me”. He more or less ingested a piece of meat, looking like he could care less about the taste – he was only feeding a hunger, not enjoying a meal. “I will make out papers to leave you Chamber House. You can sell it or stay here, that is up to you… I will also leave you money; enough to keep you comfortable”.

Rosalind felt cold all over. James entire explanation had seemed indifferent to her emotions, how she’d longed for him for so long. “And I cannot come with you?”. He seemed surprised at her question, as if he’d never considered the possibility. “Why would you do that?”, he asked. She let out an exasperated sigh. “Because you are my husband. Because I loved you and you loved me, and maybe…”. “I told you. None of that”. He pushed away his plate. “Now, Mrs. Delaney, I have a use for you, and you have a use for me. Do we have an accord?”.

Rosalind looked at the garnet ring on her right hand. She’d kept it there for 7 years, unable to let go of him; but also, unable to wear it on the finger he had put it on himself, 3 years before that. “Why did you marry me?”, she asked. James met her eyes. His expression warmed; and he furrowed his brow, as if to make himself come across harder than he felt inside. “Because I was selfish. You did not see me as I was – as I am. You saw things in me I wanted to believe were there. It made me want you, but you deserved better”. “I still believe those things about you”. “Then you are a fool”. “I think you are the fool. There is no darkness without light. Goodnight, husband”.

She left the room, and went up the stairs; leaving James to his thoughts and plans.

---

In the morning, Rosalind woke up in determination. If James wanted a wife, he would get one. She held no hope that he would change his mind, and decide that he wanted her back; but if he was insistent on travelling to America – if that was what would make him whatever version of happy it was possible for him to be – she would do her part to make that happen. To add to that, she had no wish to be kidnapped, raped or tortured; and the only way to avoid that, seemed to be to go with the arrangement James had proposed.

Once dressed in her best morning dress, and she had made up her hair in a fashionable yet appropriately demure manner, she made her way downstairs to face her husband. He was not in the sitting room, but she found him nursing what looked like a terrible hangover, in the kitchen. Brace was seated by the fireplace, scratching the dog behind its ears. His face lit up when he saw her. “Good morning, miss Beauchamp!”, he said. “Mrs. Delaney from here on, Brace”, she smiled. The butler’s smile widened. “Coffee?”. He poured her a cup, and she sat down on one of the wobbly chairs, across the table from James; and looked over the kitchen. It was even drearier than the rest of the house; clearly vermin infested, and in need of a cleaning.

“I have terms”, she said. James looked up at her from his own cup; clearly wanting nothing but to be left alone. “Terms? You get protection for as long as needed; then this house, and money to live”, he said. “What else could you want?”. Rosalind took a deep breath, and tried to look as calm as possible. “Yes… the house. No lady with any kind of respect for herself, or her reputation, would live in it, in the state it is in now”, she said. “It must be cleaned; the leaking from the roof must be fixed; the furniture needs mending; and I want new curtains… Oh, and fresh flowers in every room”. “Why?”, James grunted. “I shall have to invite ladies for afternoon tea, and I will not have them gossiping about me being a bad housekeeper”. James looked disgusted at the prospect. “Tea…”. Rosalind smiled brightly. “Yes. Feel free to stay away on such occasions, if you are not comfortable with it. We will also need to light the fireplaces in all the rooms in use. It’s too cold here”. “There is not warmth in the Delaney house”, her husband grunted. “There will be now”, she retorted. “Hmm…”, James said. “Anything else?” “Yes”, she replied, and took a sip of her coffee. “The cleaning of the house shall extend to its inhabitants. Including the dog. Does he have a name?”. “Yes”, James growled. “It’s dog”. “Hmm”, Rosalind nodded.

Brace cleared his throat. “If I am to clean this whole house…”, he began. “You will not have to do it alone. We will employ a maid”. The butler’s eyes widened in fear. “Just for propriety’s sake, Brace. Don’t worry. She does not need to live here, and I can tend to my own dressing in the morning”. “You seem quite capable of that”, James muttered, and gave her a once over. “Ah, a compliment! How kind of you, husband”, Rosalind jeered. “You will of course have to extend those on occasion, especially in company, and when we promenade in public”. “I do not promenade”, James said, and took a sip of his coffee. “You do now. Every Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday, after church”. James sputtered in disbelief and disgust. “We must keep up appearances, James. Otherwise, this will never work”. James let out a noise that sounded like a mix between a laugh and a growl. “Agreed”, he said, and got on his feet.

“One last thing”, Rosalind said, halting him. James looked about ready to throw something heavy. “I will do my part to make your travelling to America possible; but as long as you are here, you will treat me with the respect a wife deserves. I do not expect you to be kind, or in any way affectionate and loving – you have made it clear that is not possible for you – but you will speak to me with curtesy, be honest and faithful; and never again imply that I am a whore”. “You dislike whores?”, James asked, a smile ghosting his face. “I don’t believe I’ve ever met one, so cannot say I do. After all, a woman must do what she can to survive in this world”, Rosalind replied. “But personally, I prefer sex without monetary exchange".

She got on her feet, and with a final smile, she left the kitchen; leaving a flabbergasted looking butler, and an angry looking husband in her wake. Rosalind smirked to herself, as she went to her room, to write down her plans for the renovation of Chamber House.

Soon after, she heard the front door slam, and felt the house shake from the sheer force of it.

---

She took in her lunch and dinner alone. In the evening, she was brushing her hair by the vanity, when her bedroom door opened, and James stood there, wet from the rainfall, and a devil in his eyes. Droplets of water fell from the brim of his hat, and onto his already soaking coat.

“Who?”, he said hoarsely. “What?”, Rosalind asked, shaken by his demeanor. “Who did you fuck?”, he growled. “Who did you let in you bed, while you belonged to me?”. She swallowed hard, and tried for a proud expression. “Maybe there was someone before you…”, she said. “No. You were untouched when I left. Now you are not. Who?”. He walked closer to her, and she got on her feet, backing away. “Geary?”. “No! I would never… Never him".

James grabbed her hand, and held it up in front of his, as if examining it. His grip on her wasn’t painful, but there was no way of releasing herself from it. He was strong, and had his mind set in one thing. Answers. They had not stood so close in years. “Then, who did this hand bring pleasure, hmm?”. He tugged her close, and with a firm grip on her wrist, he used his free arm to hold her in place against him; pressing it against her lower back. Rutting his hips forwards, they met hers, and Rosalind found it difficult to breathe, from the friction James' movement created. “And this? Tell me…”.

James broad frame was tense as a bowstring about to snap. His wet coat made the fabric of Rosalind’s nightgown damp, and she shivered, both from cold and from James pressing his groin against her own. “If I tell you, what will you do?”, she whispered. “I will kill him, for touching what is mine", James replied. “You left behind what was yours 10 years ago”, Rosalind retorted. “Since then, it has been mine to do with as I please. And for that, I will not let you commit murder. Do you mean to tell me you never laid with another woman while you were gone?". James growled some words Rosalind didn’t understand. She looked him in the eyes, never blinking or turning her gaze. She would not be intimidated. She was not in the wrong. “You don’t want me anymore. You should not be disturbed by the idea that another man does".

Unable to keep eye contact, James stepped back, letting out a snarling hiss, before turning around, and storming out of the room. “You left me, James. You left!”, Rosalind called after him. He slammed the door shut, and she fell to her knees, finally giving in to tears of heartache and a frustration over a need not fulfilled. She wanted her husband, soul and body; her own was practically screaming for his touch.

After a while, she climbed in to bed, and fell asleep, numb and empty of tears.

---

There were noises from the attic all night. Rosalind woke more than once, believing she’d heard voices, or maybe just one voice, having a conversation with itself.

When she woke in the morning, she spent some time mentally preparing herself for another day of loveless matrimony; and an, in spite of that, jealous husband. Then again, jealousy might be the wrong word. For all she knew, he might just be unhappy that someone touched his property. Brace had prepared breakfast for her in the sitting room. The house seemed, for once, not to be making a sound, and the silence was almost deafening.

“Where is he?”, she asked, once Brace entered the room, to take away James' uneaten breakfast. ”Finding another way to get himself killed, I’m sure", Brace grunted. “He left before sunrise”. “Why is he like this?”, Rosalind sighed. “What broke him?”. Brace looked at her with pained eyes. “James was broken long before he even knew it himself”, he said. “Whatever happened to him after he left England just brought it out, I’m afraid”. “I wish I had known…”. “Would you not have married him then?”. “I would. But maybe if I’d known, I could have…”. She couldn’t finish the sentence. “Saved him?”, Brace said. She looked down. “I believe that was his hope as well. I never saw him more alive, than just after he met and proposed to you”. “Then why did he leave?”, she whispered. “That is not for me to say, ma’am. But if he could have stayed, I believe he would have”. The butler gave her a sad smile disappeared out of the room again; leaving Rosalind to ponder his words, and remember.

---

There had been a ball, with drinks that were far too strong. She’d worn her favorite gown; one of red velvet, that she had made herself. Cadets from the academy had been present, and she’d not wanted for dance-partners. The only uniformed man who would not dance, stood brooding in a corner; gazing towards her once in a while. He looked deep in thought, and whatever that thought was, had put a deep furrow between his brows. Something made her want to see him smile, and when her partner in the next dance stepped on her toes for the third time, she caught the cadet’s gaze, and rolled her eyes. A hint of a smile traced his lips, and she felt her heart flutter at the sight. They’d spent the rest of the night in conversation, and when no one had looked he had broken all rules of propriety, and placed a chaste kiss on the corner of her lips. She had told herself that it was intoxication that had held her from slapping him; but truthfully, she knew better.

They had spent every chance they had the next month together, and whenever they had a private moment, their lips would meet; with each kiss growing bolder and more heated. Rosalind lived for his smiles and his gentle fingertips grazing her cheek. She knew it was lust, but she also knew it was love; and when suddenly he had dropped on one knee, she had not hesitated to agree to marry him.

They were wed six weeks after their meeting, with Rosalind never having been surer of anything in her life, than of James’ love for her, and hers for him. Then came the wedding night. With her heart in her chest, she had waited in what would be their bedroom from then on. He’d never entered the room, and she didn’t see him again for another 10 years.

---

The rest of the morning passed quietly. Unable to leave the house, Rosalind resolved to entertain herself by getting acquainted with the dog; who seemed to have no problem eating the salted beef she herself could not stomach. As she sat on the sofa to embroider, it fell asleep with its head on her feet. In the afternoon, she read the first three chapters of a book, before realizing that someone had ripped out pages from it; probably having used them for kindling. Boredom was taking over, but luckily Brace was obliged to play a few rounds of cards with her, before he had to tend to the kitchen. She noticed movement outside, and looking out the window, she saw a pair of rugged looking men tending to the garden, trying to make it look presentable.

James returned to the house just after she’d finished her dinner, with a young, dirty looking woman at his heels. He stepped in to the sitting room with a glum look on his face. “Your maid”, he said. “She will be here only during the day”. “I have employment elsewhere to attend to”, the young woman said; not meeting Rosalind’s eyes. Rosalind got on her feet and approached her husband. “I would have liked to speak to her, before you hired her”, she said. James stepped towards the dining table, away from Rosalind, and poured himself a brandy. “She has experience in the service industry, and you said you did not dislike whores”. The young woman stifled a smile.

Rosalind sighed defeatedly. “Right. What is your name, miss?”, she asked the woman. “Pearl, Mrs. Delaney”, the woman replied. “I’m glad to meet you, Pearl. Are you aware what your duties will be, as a maid?”. “Cleaning things, I suppose”, Pearl said. “I can’t cook, but I can make tea”. Pearl suddenly looked nervous that she might be sent away. “I don’t steal, and I don’t have no diseases!”. Rosalind smiled at her. “I’m sure you will do fine, Pearl. And we have Brace for cooking; don’t worry”. Pearl visibly relaxed. Rosalind noticed James looking at her through the corner of his eye, as he drank from his glass. “We shall have to find you a suitable dress, of course… Oh, and; I will on occasion receive guests here. I would very much appreciate it if you did not mention your other profession when I do”. “Just keep quiet whenever strangers are in the house”, James grunted. Rosalind sent him a chiding look. “When can you start?”, she asked. “Whenever you need me, ma’am”. “Tomorrow at 10 am, then”, Rosalind smiled. Pearl curtsied awkwardly, and took her leave.

Rosalind went back to sit on the sofa, and James took his seat in the chair across from her. He drained his glass, and set it down on the table next to him. Brace had left the mail for him there, and he picked it up, before seemingly remembering something. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out another letter. “This arrived for you at your former lodgings. Your landlady has opened and resealed it”, he said, and leaned forwards to hand it to her. “It’s from Mr. Geary”. “Did you read it as well?”, she muttered, and took the letter. “No, but I recognize his handwriting on the address. It looks like it was written in less anger than the one he sent me yesterday, threatening to kill me if I did not disappear from England again”. His tone was indifferent. “Well, I suppose it’s good you’re on your way to be doing that, then”, Rosalind said. He met her eyes again, and grunted nonsensically, before sitting back and going through his own mail.

Rosalind opened Geary’s letter.

To; Rosalind Beauchamp c/o Fanny Owen

My dearest Rosalind. I came to call upon you this Friday, but was told you were visiting with the countess Musgrove. It was my wish to extend my apologies for my unfortunate behavior when I saw you last. I realize I might have come across coarse in my manner of showing my affections towards you; but I pray you understand that I was struck by the urgency of the matter. With Delaney’s return, you see how I felt it necessary to make my plans of having you for my wife, known to you. I understand that for propriety’s sake, you had to let him escort you home; but I also know that deep in your heart you must long for me, as I do for you. Delaney will either fake his death, and leave England again, leaving you as heiress to the fortune – and the American piece of land – or actually die. Either way, you will be free of him; and we will be free to marry. We will have a rich and prosperous future together, my darling. With all my heart; Thorne.

Rosalind sighed and shook her head. “Another proposal?”, James asked. “Yes, actually”, she replied, and handed him the letter. James read through it quickly. “Well, he’s right about one thing. Before too long, you will be free to marry… Even him, if you’re daft enough to do so”. “He only wants me, because he thinks he can get your money that way”, Rosalind said. Picking up her needlework, she accidentally pricked her finger. “Fuck!”, she hissed, and put her bleeding finger in her mouth. James looked at her in startled amusement; his lips curling upwards. “I think you underestimate yourself”.

She got on her feet, and went to leave the room, when she made a decision, and turned around to face James again. “His name was William”, she said. James looked at her in confusion, before realization came through in his eyes. “William”, he grunted, and looked into the fire. “He was a soldier, but that is as much as I learnt about him”, Rosalind continued. “I was widowed, lonely and heartbroken; and for a moment, he made me believe I could be happy again”. “It only took him a moment, then?”, James said with a cold smile; but frowned when she began walking towards the door. “Rose…”. She halted, and looked at him again. “Don’t call me that…”, she said quietly. “I cannot bear to hear it now. That is what you called me when you loved me”. “No one else has ever called you that?”, he grunted. Rosalind shook her head, and swallowed hard. “No. That at least, was only ever yours. Good night”.

She retired to her bedroom.

---

She was in a forest, strange sounds and whispers surrounding her. He grabbed her shoulders from behind her, and leaned in to whisper into her ear. “Rose… my Rose”, he said. “Am I?”, she whispered. His arms snaked around her waist, and she leaned into his chest; feeling his lips against her cheek. “Yes. Always”. She turned around, and buried her face in the crook of his neck. “Not out there. Out there I am nothing to you. It is agony, my love”.

He leaned back, and put a finger under her chin; smiling at her. “Then let us stay here. We don’t have to go back”. The whispering around them intensified, and Rosalind looked around her. “I can’t live in a dream”. James took her right hand, and pulled the garnet ring from her finger; then lifted her left hand, and slid it onto her ring finger. “This is where it belongs, Rose”, he breathed, and leaned in; placing a soft kiss on her lips.

She woke with a gasp. Looking at her right hand, she panicked when she saw that the ring was gone from her finger. She frantically searched the bedsheets and cover to see where it had gone to; when she saw that it was right where it belonged. On her left ring finger.

---

#James Delaney #james delaney angst #james delaney x oc #james delaney fic #tom hardy

[itsmoonphobic]

👑Royal Buisness👑 (SBI+Tommy AU)

Hello!My name is Moonbow and I am a huge sbi+more fan! And so I decided to do my bois some justice and create a au based off of dnd and skyrim!They all reside in the land of "Bladestrom" a legendary kingdom build out of mysterious ruins and on the ground where dragons once rested.I will let you in on some headcanons and insights about each character!I hope you guys enjoy it🥺👑💓

Dave(Techno) Blade:

The 12th heir of the throne King Technoblade,or simply King Blade.A strong and fearless warrior known for his determination,power and strength.

He has a serious and egoistic facade.Though in reality the king is anything but egoistic and serious.Quiet the opposite actually:He tends to be very polite and respectful.Sure his ego is the size of a full grown dragon but he is a big hearted man.

Techno mostly stays in his castle walls and prefers to read or write in peace.The only time he will actually step foot in the outside world was during night,when his people need him or his favorite hobby ;)

He has a pretty unbalanced and unhealthy sleeping schedule which he constantly gets reminded of.

The only person Techno actually lets into his private life is his best friend Phil.Phil is Techno's personal knight and right hand man.Techno trusts Phil with his eyes closed,his loyalty is very appreciated.

A huge downside for Techno's reputation is that he is really shy and socially awkward.The poor guy can't find the right words or say anything normal without feeling like he said something fully absurd.

Apart from reading and fighting,Techno loves to farm potatoes in his free time.He loves the fresh taste once they are harvested and prepared properly!!His potatoes are known to be from the best quality in the whole land!Which earns Techno some extra money.

Techno won't admit it infront of Phil or anyone else but he has a soft spot for children,especially orphans. He knows the feeling of growing up without parents and he feels connected to them.That's why Techno stops by the local orphanage to donate some money he earned from his potato farming.

Techno loves to train and upgrade his swordsmanship abilities to their fullest potential.Always coming up with new strategies and techniques to use whenever the time for war would fall upon them once again.

And speaking of war,the thing that terrified the neighboring kingdoms and enemies even more about King Blade is the fact that he never manages to lose. Everyone stupid enough to challenge the king of Bladestrom would go down in shame and regret.

Though Techno isn't really in control of himself in those types of situations.His lust for blood overcomes his senses and he can't but see red with every step he takes on the battlefield.

Phil is usually the one who manages to calm him down and get him back to his normal self.Techno would feel awful and expose the side he hates the most about him to Phil: Vulnerability

Techno doesn't take things very seriously.He is very sarcastic and relaxed all the time,and that's what makes him even scarier.

He competes in the yearly bladestrom championships which is a battle arena with different challenges and obstacles you have to beat.And suprise,suprise Techno wins em' all!

Techno suffers from adhd and anxiety.Something that only Phil is aware of is Techno's ptsd.He didn't exactly have the luxurious and perfect life growing up,so when he ends up getting nightmares or panic attacks Phil's dad instincts take over and do their thing.

Long story short,Techno doesn't necessarily know his limits,but he is hundred percent aware of his strengths and weaknesses.He protects and takes care of the people he deeply cares about and welcomes them as family.His power is what makes him a fearless and violent king.But his heart is what makes him a kind and understanding human.And if he ever forgets about that side of him he simply has to listen to the repeated beating in his chest.

Phil Watson:

The royal guard with a five year long achievement on staying at the top of his game and ranking as the number one royal knight.

Earning himself the trust and life long,brother like friendship with the king himself was a big plus!

Phil is a very loyal and hardworking man.He seeks justice and always wants to take things the slow and pacifistic way before instantly turning to violence and bloodshed,much unlike his best friend.

Phil is very kind,and gentle when he needs to be. Everyone loves seeing Phil in the local town tavern or in a city bar.He always seems to read poeple like an open book and find the right topics to talk about.

Techno and Phil have a very close and important relationship.They are like a brothers,though Techno secretly looks up to Phil like a father he never had. Phil would risk his life for Techno,not only becouse of his duty as his personal guard,but becouse family comes first.

Phil is a very wholesome and strong willed guy.

Whenever Techno is feeling down or something like a panick attack or nightmare is happening,Phil immediately notices it.Techno doesn't have to say a word for Phil to hug him and take care of the vulnerable king in his hands.

He will find Techno on his balcony while patrolling the castle halls or garden in the middle of the night just staring at the moonlit sky.He always seems so lost in thought and carefree that Phil simply smiles and continues his work.

He does scold him for not resting enough the next day though-so he's never really off the hook :D

Phil is also the only person who really knows Techno.He knows his deepest fears,biggest insecurities and darkest secrets.He sees him in moments where the world would turn his back on him but Phil doesn't and he never will.That's what he promised him all those years ago.

Long story short,Phil is very kind and hardworking.He takes problems into his own hands and solves them the best way he possibly can.He can and will tease the living daylight out of Techno and that infront of other residents of the castle who don't know if they should laugh or simply stare in shock.Phil deeply loves and cares of Techno like his son and always makes sure ro put his well being infront of his own.

(I WOULD DIE FOR PHIL-HE IS SO WHOLESOME AHHH-)

Wilbur Soot:

A lonesome musician on the lookout for money and success-

Wilbur is a guitarist living on the streets of Bladestrom He goes from bar to bar and performs his musical talent there.Though the majority of the time Wil plays and sings on the streets.

Earning money is hard so affording an apartment,even a room for a few nights is almost impossible for Wilbur since he only earns a few silver coins per night,that is if he gets lucky and poeple actually listen to him.

He is very charming and suave,also add the fact that he is pretty handsome to the list and you have yourself the perfect boyfriend.May I inform you that his voice is a perfect balance between velvety and rough-

Wilbur isn't from Bladestrom.He grew up in another kingdom which he can't remember the name from since he arrived here during a war 19 years ago.

He never really heard from his parents,they just sort of disappeared.But that was something Wilbur didn't question,he didn't care about them.He learned how to survive and keep himself company.He doesn't need a family ro accomplish his goals.

Wilbur is a huge gentleman and he is also tends to be extremely flirtatious,which he is really good at btw!So yeah he earns himself some extra points with the ladies ;)

His biggest dream that he is trying to achieve is to become a famous musician in the whole entire land. Opening his own theater and doing what he loves the most.Sing and perform.

But living on the streets has it's ups and down's.Most nights Wilbur has to deal with drunk people wandering the alleyways or annoying little children who constantly pickpocket you-

Wilbur will sometimes nonchalantly sneak into a hotel and sleep in one of their cozy beds,since he doesn't experience that feeling often.Or the places he performs at reward him with shelter instead of money.

Long story short,Wilbur can keep apart dreams and reality.He is a smart and sly person who knows how to accomplish his goals.Even though Wilbur has his one Night stands more than often he would never betray a woman if he got into a serious relationship,which he plans on not having any time soon.He keeps to himself and sternly focuses on the things that matter in life,everything else is irrelevant.

Tommy Simons:

An energetic orphan with no manners and the mouth of a sailor.

Tommy grew up on the streets,any memory of his past life or family only appear as a missing puzzle piece or a black canvas.

Tommy is a very outgoing and optimistic person,his emotions are practically worn out on his sleeves.

Spending his days in the local town orphanage Tommy met a few poeple who he spends his time with.You could say that he has formed a wierd alliance with his more questionable friends.

Tommy learned how to defend himself and make sure that his "gang" stas safe aswell.He is quite the expert at pickpocketing which comes in handy.

Being quick and light on his feet,if Tommy does get caught by the royal guards he manages to escape and get away with the stuff he stole.

On the other hand though,Tommy is extremely clumsy and seeks huge amount of admiration in any way.He constantly wants people to refer to him as the best.

And to repeatedly prove himself worthy of that title he picks fights with multiple poeple and always manages to make poeple hate him.He won't say it out loud but he sees the bloody noses and bruises as badges of honor,he's proud of them.

This little troublemaker has only one person he dreams to meet one day,but for now he can only hear stories about him and admire him from afar.And that person is none other than King Blade himself.

Oh what he would give to train with him and show off his badass moves and fighting skills.

Long story short,Tommy doesn't think before he acts and he surprisingly manages to pull off any stupid stunt he plans to do.For Tommy it's kill or be killed.Either you face your fears head on and establish dominance or you act like a coward and run away.And there was no way Tommy ever does the second option even if it gets him into dangerous situations.Tommy is very overprotective over poeple he cares about,his guild is his brotherhood,his family,and he would do anything for them,even going sofar as risking his life.

THIS IS ALL I HAVE FOR NOW-I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS AU BECOUSE I AM ABSOLUTELY IN LOVE AND I CAN'T GET OVER THE FACT THAT MY BRAIN ACTUALLY MANAGED TO WORK PROPERLY AND CREATE SOMETHING USEFUL-Sorry I ramble alot,anyway I am definitely planing on making this a whole ass fanfiction on AO3 so yeah KWKDJWKIS I AM HYPED!!Love u all <3

#mcyt #au #alternate universe #technoblade #wilbur soot #ph1lza #tommy innit #minecraft #videogames #minecraft youtubers #royalty au #headcanon #i hope this is okay! #i love this #very proud #sleepy bois inc #sleepyboisinc #sleepy bois

[fnafslinky]

Fazbear Frights 1-9 review.

Into The Pit:

Slow and meandering during the first half but picks up speed after Spring Bonnie shows up. Good message and good idea, but the execution could be better. 6/10

To Be Beautiful:

This story is so full of fluff, you can cut out like 60% of it and lose nothing. I know it's going for a fairy tale thing with the repetition and all, but fairy tales do that because it's made for children. Repetition is to train a child's brain to remember better. These books are aimed at teenagers, so this narrative device is not needed. On top of that, it has unfortunate implications of "Not like other girls" memes that we don't need to revisit. Only saved by its creepy af ending. 3/10

Count The Ways:

Legitimately my favorite story out of FNAF and one of my favorites of all time. It fixed the previous story's Not Like Other Girls problems by having the goth main character hate the pretty blonde and being called out for not even knowing her and being shallow. It is actually surprising to have these two stories be back to back.

The narrative device of switching back and forth between the MC facing her death and how she got up to that point means it keeps your interest throughout that the previous two stories had problems with. It makes for great drama and tension.

The main reason I love this story in particular is because of this exchange near the end:

“Silly Millie, for someone who doesn’t want to die you sure spent a lot of time talking about it,” the voice surrounding her said. “But that’s the way of things, isn’t it? Talk is always easier than action.”

“I think,” Millie said, sniffling, “that when I said I wanted to die, what I really wanted was to escape. I didn’t want death. I just wanted my life to be different.”

“Oh, but that really takes action, doesn’t it?”

And, if I can be real for a minute: I feel like that kinda changed my life. Or very least, my point of view.

As someone who has made attempts on his life before and frequently battles depression- It made my problems so much less overwhelming. Of course I didn't want to die. I wanted my life my life to improve. And now whenever the thought of suicide passes through my head, I just remember this phrase and it helps me keep it together and calm down.

And also F.Freddy's follow up with having to work for happiness is spot on too. Misery is comfortable, that's why so many people prefer it. Happiness takes effort. 10/10

Fetch:

I'm in the minority for not caring for this one. I felt like there wasn't any direction or character arc, I didn't find Fetch particularly scary or interesting, and the MC makes a lot of dumb decisions in it.

That being said, I love how it jumps right into the action instead of taking awhile to get to it like the other stories did. The stories tend to play out like a different book and then FNAF characters are slapped in at the end. This one gets right to it and makes it integral to its plot. 6/10

Lonely Freddy:

Another one I really love. The Frights series has a good traction with its tragedies and this one is no exception. I really connected with the feeling of being pitted against your siblings, usually by accident and circumstance with your parents. Particularly this line:

“Maybe you’ve made them what they are,” Aunt Gigi said, pausing for a moment before adding: “Hazel’s the easy one. Alec is the hard one. It’s like you put them on their own little islands.”

I wasn't Alec, but Hazel in this situation. And it made me realize what my sibling went through because of it.

And this is another story where Freddy's is more integral to the plot too, and one of the few times it's not already abandoned.

I really like how well done Alec's back and forth he had with himself whether to befriend his sister or not. It's a believable character arc when he realizes his mistake at the end unlike another story that we'll get to.

And the fact they made a God damn teddy bear legitimately creepy is a mastery of horror writing that I can only ever hope to strive for. Definitely the scariest in Frights 2. 9/10

Out Of Stock:

I agree with Dawko that this one feels best to make a 30 minute special out of. It feels like a Halloween special or creepypasta you would watch/read as a preteen. Old enough to want to explore more mature stuff, but young enough to still have more cartoony stuff be familiar. And I mean that as 100% a positive.

I also like how this one is a bit more comedy based. Like the scene where the MC gets thrown across the room after electrocuting himself and his friends dont even notice. I can picture that bit so clearly.

The climax is the best part of having a dire game of Red Light, Green Light with the Plushtrap Chaser. It's very energized and exciting that the other stories don't have as often because the subject matter doesn't lend itself to it.

The trend in these stories of kids learning to appreciate their parents, and they're parents realizing they have to sacrifice some stuff to make their child happy is very sweet. And it's no different here. 8/10

1:35 AM

What I like about this series is that you never know where its gonna go from story to story. I though for certain this story was about how the doll was gonna have an evil spirit possessing it.

But no, what actually happened is that it's never made clear if the MC is losing her mind, being haunted, or just seeing stuff because she's sleep deprived. That ambiguity makes the book a lot creepier and sadder because you don't know how this poor woman should be helped. And it ends without any clarification. That's great and a perfect idea for horror story.

That being said, Scott's writing quirks (and it's definitely Scott doing it, I can tell) of front loading info, constantly stopping the flow to have backstory and over explaining things that don't need makes it frustrating to read after several books of it. And we're not done with that either. 9/10

Room For One More:

I skipped over all the dream sequences because it adds nothing to the story. Its great you remember Sister Location, but it feels like you don't trust your audience to read a FNAF story if there isn't animatronics every couple pages. And honestly? Understandable.

I do know based on my own FNAF comic, pages featuring humans is a lot less popular than the ones featuring animatronics. And I get it, you're a bunch of furries it's more interesting to visualize. And you can go in the opposite direction and have very little FNAF stuff when they're needs to be more. The New Kid doesn't even bring it up til the last third.

But I digress. The strongest qualities in Room For One More is three points.

The location is very vividly described. The underground security office with steel walls, the radiation disposals, the musky scent. It paints a clear and unique picture.

The main character's fallen arc of self care and distrust of others is a well done cautionary tale. It goes hand in hand with the speech before of having to work for happiness, and the difficulties there are from even trying. But you still need to do it.

The body horror is not as visually disgusting as it could've been, and more conceptually horrifying. But if you have a fear of bugs in your skin or crawling in your mouth, prepare for something so much worse! And no, that's not a spoiler, it's pretty obvious where its going from the beginning. 7/10

The New Kid:

This one was disappointing. This is not the way to do a tragedy, because I don't care about the MC.

Throughout the entire story, the main character has literal sociopath tendencies. He is controlling of other people, he doesn't have any empathy, he sees other people as tools to use, he kills a bird and doesn't care- So at the end when he accidentally kills someone, I don't believe him feeling bad about it. And I sure as shit don't care about his death after him leaving his victim to die, while he was still breathing, and not coming back for a week.

Also the twist at the end makes no God damn sense and I'm not even gonna dignify it.

A better tragedy would've been his friend, Mick, getting into trouble for the murder after refusing to ever stand up to the MC. Or even the MC being betrayed by him last minute for him to learn how his shit behavior really screwed him over. But the end result ended up being an unsatisfying mess. 2/10

I'll review the 4th's books with 5 and 6, since I'm sticking with a three at a time theme and because I haven't read 4 yet.

#fnaf #fazbear frights #fnaf books

[saladejin]

Changing States | Jimin

Jimin x Reader | non idolverse au, husband!Jimin |  Fluff, crack-ish, slight angst

Summary: You receive a much needed comfort after one of the worst days in history. Well... your history anyway. 

Warnings: Mention of a pregnancy loss.

Word Count: 3k 

* Request from my Ao3 series ‘Movie Night’.

~

Sometimes people liked to call it waking up on the wrong side of the bed. You preferred to label it as just a bad day, nothing to worry about usually, yet now you were rethinking everything.

Today, your entire bed seemed to be on the wrong side of the room.

You awoke to the sound of loud machinery and boisterous yelling filtering in from the window. Blinking the sleep away, you inwardly cursed for forgetting to get the uneven windowsill fixed up yet again. Now you would have to deal with the noise from the construction site next door without being able to complain about it because it was your scatterbrain that had left you to suffer in silence.

You let your eyes flutter shut and extended one arm towards the other half of the bed, desperate for the warm body that would usually be there but only meeting the cold, dreary bedsheets with your fingertips.

That’s right, he has to work extra early hours today.

You sat up slowly, letting your eyes trail over the hauntings of a crease he had left in the smooth fabric. You couldn’t help but roll over to rest your face into his plush pillow, trying to catch the last tendrils of his scent that was made up of a million different things. The things that made you feel secure and bolted to the ground, whether it be his aromatic shampoo or the light cologne he’d worn the previous day.

It hadn’t been the best morning so far, but you knew he would have made it perfect if he’d only been by your side. Being your source of motivation to get going, or something.

You got to your feet and padded into the bathroom to make yourself somewhat presentable. Your brows were still twitching from the obnoxious noise outside, and the fact that they’d brought in a big reversing truck had amped the annoyance level. Repetitive beeping was a big no for your sanity at the moment.

“Two more weeks,” you sighed and tried to angle your lips upwards into a smile, just for the sake of feeling brighter in mind and spirit.

Then, the smile vanished as a high pitched shriek tore from your throat. The big fat hairy spider sitting on your mirror didn’t move, but you did.

“What the fuck!” You growled, eyeing the creature and clenching at your heart over your shirt to stop it from racing. It was so big you were almost too afraid to try getting rid of it. Usually you could whip out the fly spray or get a cup and a sheet of paper to let it outside, but this one was giving you eyes.

“Nope.”

You let the bathroom door click shut and let your head rest against the wood with an audible thump. It was still morning, but already you’d been through about twelve of your most detested emotions of all time.

I’ll let Jimin deal with it when he gets home.

You left the spider to its own devices and made your way into the kitchen for some food. Luckily for you, the milk had expired and your coffee machine had decided to overflow and ooze its weird concoction of water, caffeine and sugar straight onto your tiles. Tiles which had been freshly mopped not two days ago, mind you.

You reminded yourself to feel thrilled that it hadn’t been on the carpet instead.  

You could only sigh again and began moving your feet to get the cleaning stuff from the cupboard. The sound of the machine dripping occasionally followed you the entire way, and that, coupled with everything else that had gone down so far, landed you the biggest headache you could possibly imagine.

You weren’t hungover, but if things continued the way they were then it wouldn’t be long before you’d be setting yourself up for something similar. Your phone buzzed a while later and you perked up at the message from your best friend. She’d suddenly invited you out for lunch, but you didn’t know how to feel.

I’ve been kicked out of the bathroom and I haven’t had much to eat. I’ll look like trash and be grumpy as hell, but hey at least it’ll take my mind off everything for a while.

~

Newsflash, it hadn’t helped.

You watched in shock as your friend beamed at you from her seat in the café. Your coffee had been served unnaturally cold, and then when you’d sent it back they had returned with a completely wrong order altogether. You could barely keep your fragile sense of civility together for the nervous looking waiter, but whenever you felt yourself about to snap you just imagined Jimin’s heart-warming smile and the words he would always speak in moments of amounting stress.

“It’ll be alright baby, you’ll get through it.”

Now, the aforementioned shock was stemming from your friend and colleague. The friend and colleague who had just dropped a bombshell.

“We’ve decided to move interstate! There’s a lovely house on a river we saw and fell in love with,” She smiled excitedly.

“That’s amazing,” You breathed, genuinely feeling happy for her but trying your best to ignore the feelings of sorrow gripping at your heart.

“I’ll be sad to leave you guys and the company, but I’ll come down to visit as often as I can. You okay (Y/n) sweetie?”

You jerked as her hand found yours across the table.

“Yeah, sorry I’ve had a bit of a chaotic day. I’m so happy for you,” You smiled, grasping her hand and feeling relieved when she seemed to let the moment pass. You hated yourself for letting the negativity outweigh everything else, but you knew you would easily be feeling elated if had just been a better day.

“I’ll have to show you photos, maybe you two will be inspired to look for another place somewhere too,” She smiled tenderly, knowing you and Jimin had always wanted to venture out into the world to find the perfect spot. Work had overtaken many things so far in your married lives, but seeing your friend finally break free did make you feel hopeful for a change.

Feeling encouraged by your thoughtful and optimistic expression, your friend continued.

“Just a nice little place with a perfect temperature for like, everything! Wouldn’t it be great to even live close together? Our families and kids could share so many memories.”

Your smile dropped and your best friend suddenly let her voice die in her throat, realising she’d brought something up she shouldn’t have just yet. It was a little soon.

“Oh shit, (Y/n) I didn’t mean to.”

“No, it’s fine silly,” You laughed it off, still squeezing her hand to reassure her. Her worried gaze pierced into your own and you felt a tad uncomfortable from all the emotions in your brain running rampant all of a sudden.

“You look under the weather, let me pay your bill,” She offered softly, getting to her feet and prompting you to follow. You were so grateful she was so tuned to your mannerisms, she knew just when you needed a break from it all.

You said your goodbyes after apologising for your miserable appearance once again, finally getting into the car and heaving a massive sigh to rid yourself from the tension. You contemplated calling Jimin, but you knew that he was at work and would likely be busy with getting everything done. He was efficient like that.

“What a shitty person I am, couldn’t even be fucking happy for my friend,” You muttered in shaky annoyance as you started up the car, feeling like you wanted to scream all your anger away into the dashboard. Onlookers be damned, you didn’t care about being judged.

No, just buy some ice cream or something on the way home. You’ll have a better day tomorrow.

More of his words drifted through your memory.

“Keep it together, treat yourself. You deserve happiness.”

A sad smile tugged at your lips and you made it onto the road after promising yourself to feel better. If you hit a low point in your day you could only climb up from it. You told yourself to clear your mind and look forward to what time you had left.

To your chagrin, the positive outlook only lasted so long when you found yourself neck-deep in traffic; the sound of rumbling engines and an occasional beep of a horn being the only sounds greeting your ears for a solid ten minutes.

What the…

Your resolve cracked at the edges and began crumbling.

“Music will help,” Your teeth found your bottom lip as you reached for the radio station buttons, but unfortunately you were only met with white noise and the momentary sound of ads breaking through. You could almost feel the speed of the ice cream melting.

The world became blurry and your grip tightened on the wheel.

~

“I’m home, my love.”

Jimin’s slightly wearied voice echoed through the front hallway as he shuffled through the door, keys thrown onto the bench and coat draped over a nearby bar stool. He rolled his shoulders experimentally to feel how tensed they were, letting out a sigh at the muscles loosening from their strained position.

“(Y/n)? Jagi?” He used a few more names to try and get your attention, full lips pulling into a frown when he only heard muffled sobbing coming from the living room.

Oh no…

“(Y/n)?”

He walked into the room with purposeful strides, rolling up the sleeves of his button up as he went to help cool down. When he saw the flickering screen of the television, he noticed instantly that an attempted movie stream had failed due to a poor internet connection. He searched the couch hurriedly with concern flashing in his chocolate brown eyes, finally coming to rest on your form wrapped in a blanket huddled to one side. His heart broke when he watched your shoulders tremble with another barely contained wail.

“Shit, (Y/n) are you okay?” He inhaled sharply and jogged over to kneel in front of you, hands flying upwards to peel the blanket away from your face.

“God, I’ve wanted to hear your voice all day,” You sniffled, face red and puffy from tears. He didn’t know why you were crying, but the man embodied all the sensitive qualities of an empath. The sorry sight of you made his own emotions well up at an alarming rate.

“Hold on,” He cradled your face and stood up to gently smear the tears away from your cheeks, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead before rushing to the bedroom to get changed into something comfier.

“You definitely should have called me!” He groaned with a frown, hating that you were feeling so saddened but hadn’t been in contact to let him know.

You could only sigh. “You were working, I’d be too much of a bother.” You swayed on your feet as you waited for him out in the hallway leading to your room. You just wanted to be close to him now; wanting absolutely nothing more than his soothing words and body heat. He finally nudged open the door with his elbow, now dressed in tracksuit pants and a plain white t-shirt that was looser than anything else he owned.

“Come here baby,” He cooed and looked at you with softened eyes, reaching down to sweep you into his arms almost effortlessly. You wrapped your own arms around your husband tightly as he brought you back to the comfort of the couch, pressing his lips to your hair to remind you that he was home safe and sound.

“Tell me all about it.”

You sighed a rickety sigh, feeling even more tears swell from nowhere at the feeling of immense joy you now felt.

“Shit day, just all round shitness,” You murmured as you settled comfortably into his lap. His fingers swept some of your hair away and then moved to run through the tresses, making you smile and lean into the inviting pressure.

“Hmm, what was the first thing,” Jimin prompted, wanting you to let it all out to him while also being curious as to what had caused such emotional trauma. You revelled in the softness of his voice and moved your own hands to touch his face. He thought it was cute, but you believed the resulting smile he flashed your way was the most adorable thing to exist on this planet.

“The windowsill, for one,” You finally muttered, breaking off into a chuckle.

“Oh, whoops. I keep forgetting.” He clicked his tongue, a rumble of a growl sounding deep within his chest. You chuckled again and couldn’t help but nuzzle your face affectionately into his neck.

“It’s not your fault, I was gonna call up about it ages ago.”

His fingers continued to comb through your hair as he hummed for you to continue. Your tears had stopped altogether as you synced your breathing with his, feeling secured by the feeling of his rhythmic heartbeat underneath your moving hand.

“Met up with (F/n), but I looked like shit and felt like shit too. Oh yeah, coffee machine broke before that as well.”

“Wow, double whammy.”

You snorted and tried to push down your feelings of endearment to continue solemnly. “She’s moving away with her husband, interstate.”

Jimin let out a low noise of understanding. Finally, he could wrap his head around why the combination of all these small and big events would cause you to fall apart at the seams. Now that he thought about it, it had been so long since he’d even seen you cry. Maybe you’d been bottling it up for months now, and he just hadn’t noticed.

Work causing me to be ignorant, again! I really need to start focusing on what’s important...

Jimin pushed the thoughts away as you continued with the adoption of a heavier tone, the warmth of your tears falling onto his shoulder suddenly. He ran a hand over the top of your head to comfort you, his own eyes watering at your outward display of frustration.

“I couldn’t bring myself to feel happy, I mean I was but she’s one of my only friends at work and I know I’ll feel a little lost without her there. The house sounds really nice from what she said too.”

Jimin felt your form stiffen as you sobbed lightly.

“Then what?” He prompted with a soft whisper, holding you closer and rubbing your arm to help calm you down.

“She t-talked about kids and stuff, I’m so fucking stupid but I couldn’t help thinking of the miscarriage. She knew too, she…she had to stop herself from speaking just so I wouldn’t break down. Jimin, I’m such a horrible friend, I really am…”

Jimin felt his own sorrow creeping up on him as you brought up something that had deeply affected you both. You comforted one another as you stopped to brood for a few minutes, the silence being as consoling as anything while you focused on the sound of his breathing. He cleared his throat, urging away the crackle in it to lighten the atmosphere.

“It’s alright, the world is full of people you’ll meet and keep close to you. Think of all the opportunity out there instead of seeing the loss. We can visit, no?”

You cracked a smile at his much needed optimism.

“Of course. Of course we can, love.”

He kissed your head again and you reached up to smooth your now softened hair out of your face and peripherals. You looked up at him with an absolute storm of adoration clouding your gaze.

“How about we stay in tonight and just cuddle here on the couch. I’ll get the TV working too,” He murmured, bringing his hands to cup your cheeks lovingly and letting his eyes curve slightly from the accompanying smile. You ruffled his thick ashy locks briefly before shifting in his lap and capturing his lips with your own gently.

“I love you so much, it hurts sometimes,” You sighed after pulling away, but he jerked to follow your lips a second after. You hummed in amusement as you moved to straddle him, trying to pour all of your gratefulness and appreciation into the kiss.

You disconnected but rested your foreheads together to lock eyes, your face scrunching slightly when he tickled your nose with his own.

“I love you too, but you already knew that,” He rasped, planting another tiny peck to your lips and letting it linger.

You couldn’t stop running your thumbs across the expanse of his wide cheeks, your noses still inches apart and warm breaths tickling each other’s lips in small puffs. It was as if neither of you ever wanted to move.

“Yeah, kinda,” You giggled while giving his cheeks the lightest of pinches.

“Kinda? I’ll give you kinda…” Jimin growled playfully and rolled you over to the other side of the couch, standing up straight and flexing out his shoulders while you shrieked with laughter.

“I’m sorry, I know!”

He chuckled cutely and leaned over to tickle you some more before showering you with more kisses. You let your face relax as you took in his warm gaze. You felt a little calmer and more serious after the small bout of liveliness you’d had.

“Sorry, I didn’t really ask about your day. Now that I’m done I can give you a massage while you tell me.”

Jimin let out a big breath and fixed his roughened hair, looking down at you with vaguely tired eyes that were still filled with appreciation.

“Massage sounds amazing love, but I need the toilet.”

“Okay, maybe the ice cream is back to normal. Get it on your way back?” You called out after him.

“Sure thing.”

You smiled softly to yourself as you thought about how much he had managed to cheer you up with one conversation. You did feel kind of selfish for unloading all your troubles onto him without seeming to give a shit about his day in return, but you promised you would make up for it as soon as he came back. You would help him turn his day around, just like he’d done for you.

In fact, the ice cream reminded you of this very moment. When it came down to it, something like this could never be irreversible. Even if you were a sad, melted puddle of emotions from the moment you woke up, you’d since been restored to your former glory by your saviour husband, your personal freezer. He kept you together when you needed it the most.

“AH!”

A muffled shout from the bathroom caused you to slap a hand to your mouth to stop the cackles from escaping.

“That’s a big motherfucker.”

Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.

#park jimin #jimin #reader #jimin fluff #bts fanfic #bts fluff #slight angst #husband material #just a whole lot of hurting tbh #he is a sweetheart #it's too late for this #bts #sorry for this #saladejin