#I'm sorry I don't usually boast but

[arminsumi]

I COULD DO THIS FOR HOURS

G. Satoru — さとる ⋅ fem reader

🔞 mdni / mdnr / smut / n.sfw / 18+ content

NOTE: i took a 3 am thirst draft and made it a fucking fic wtf 🥴 i'm so dizzy over this one idk why i usually don't drool for my own smut but god damn this one is special to me. ik i post a lot about gojo atm and it's because i love him no apologies 👍

SUMMARY — making a cheeky comment leads to a long, steamy session in the bedroom with your husband, who's got a point to prove.

WARNINGS — nasty smut 🤤, rough sex, namecalling/nicknames (b*tch, good girl, baby, dirty girl, sweetheart), he's kinda mean, hubby gojo, multiple rounds, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, messy/sweaty sex, daddy kink, p*ssy kiss (1), long session (3h), overstim, dirty talk (teasing, sweet, mean), incl. aftercare, lmk if i have missed smth thank u

WORDCOUNT ≈ 1.3k

PLAYME — daddy

🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)

Your husband didn’t like that cheeky comment you made about his stamina and how fast he cums. He thought you were being pretty hypocritical, considering the fact that you cum sometimes solely because of lazy clit thumbing and shallow strokes.

“ Baby, careful what you say to me. “ he smiled at you in the kitchen, serenely washing the dishes after dinner. “ You know damn well that I could go for hours straight with no breaks. The only reason I don’t do that is because you’re too weak to handle it. ” he boasted confidently.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at him. That scepticism pissed him off so much that he stopped cleaning the dishes and violently threw the towel down. Your giggles rung sweetly in his ear while he scooped you off your feet and tossed you over his broad shoulder, strong build carrying you to the bedroom like he was on a mission.

He threw you down on the bed with the same force that he threw the towel down with, his hands quickly finding his phone and setting a stopwatch.

You were already giggling apologies, but he wasn’t listening. He tossed his phone onto the bed and dented the mattress with his weight as he climbed on top of you, feverish kisses nearly knocking the wind out of you.

“ I’m sorryh – mmf – ‘toruh – didn’t meanh ih – I’m sorryyy. ”

“ Save your sorries and spread your legs. Gonna have to be a little rough with you, angel. But you like that, huh ? Yeah ? Like it when daddy’s rough ? Mhm, I know. Probably like it when I’m pissed off like this, too.

You smiled. “ Yeahhh, I love it. ”

He smirked. “ Dirty girl. ”

Folding you in half and sinking his cock inside you, it felt like he was your enemy for a second with how he beat up your gummy walls with his mean cock; you were giggling and squirming about his playful roughness in the beginning, but now? You’re screaming, going dumb and limp. It makes him chuckle.

“ Fuck, baby, just look at you. ” he cooed, “ . . . just cumming over and over on this dick like a dumb bitch. I told you that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, didn’t I ? Uh-huh. I fucking told you so. Keep it together, it’s only been twenty minutes. Haha . . . and you were the one talking shit about my stamina ? Come on, apologize to me. Good girl. Tell daddy how sorry you are – haha, you cummin’? Yeah, ‘can feel your pussy fuckin’ pulsing ‘round me – fuck that’s good. You like it when I’m mean, don’t you ? ”

“ Y-yesss ! Love it love it s'much Sa—to—ruuuh ! ” you panted frantically, body jiggling like jelly with each harsh thrust.

“ So cute and dumb. ” he cooed tenderly, as if he wasn’t rearranging your guts and breaking the bed.

“ Feel that, sweetheart ? Feel me sweating ? I know you like it when I’m this close, ‘like it when you can feel the sweat drip off my abs ‘n rub against your tummy ? Yeah, I know. Damn dirty bitch. Nah-uh, eyes on me. ‘S only been an hour don’t zone out on me. ”

Really, the concept of time flew out of your head when you were laying there taking him.

You’re shaking, gummy walls and sweet spots being beat up by your husband’s mean, yummy cock. The pressure inside you builds and builds until it snaps, and you scream his name in such a high pitch that it almost makes his ears ring. He laughs a little, watching as you writhe, trapped under his beefy body. He relishes in the feeling of your pussy pulsing as you cum, it brings him close, too. Before you know it, he’s pumping his cream deep inside, pounding into you like he’s trying to ruin your pussy and reshape it to fit only his cock.

“ Fuckin’ takin’ it so well, angel. Now ‘gimme another round. Get on your tummy – there we go, aw your legs are numb ? I don’t care. It’s only been an hour. You can hold on longer than that, can’t you ? ”

From the back, he fucks you so sensually and deeply that the two of you sweat sweat sweat it up. He insistently bundles up with you under the covers to make it extra toasty. The smell of sex is hot and pungent in your lungs, and inhaling yours and his arousal and scent of cum drives him crazy. Bodies wet and slippery, he’s made a sloppy mess of you before but not quite like this; his cheeks dampen, his hair sticks to his forehead; there’s little rivulets of sweat running down the center line of his abs, following along his v-line. There’s an ache in your thighs, you’re getting overstimulated but it’s so good. And listening to his ragged, heavy breathing behind you just brings on another orgasm.

“ Fuck, baby, ‘wish you could see yourself from this angle. ” he groans erotically, brows finally knitting together tightly as he loses composure and succumbs to his own sensitivity. “ Oh, angel, just cum. Don’t hold it in – cum cum cum yeahhh there we go – that’s my fucking girl. Cumming so pretty on this dick. You’re so fucking beautiful, ‘m gonna cum too. Sh-shit look at all that frothing up, feel that ? ‘so gooey and nasty. Hahhh-ahah I’m cumin’ – cumminggg ~ ”

You can practically hear the hearts in his voice when he cums, vocals straining and rasping against the nape of your neck. He lets out this one last primal sound before pumping you full of another load of thick creamy cum. You can feel him pulsing and twitching. He presses his weight onto your back a little too much, you can feel the tones of his sweaty torso and how wet and hot his body is.

“ Haha . . . fuck . . . ” he runs a hand through his hair, smiling down at the pretty mess on his dick. “ Baby, you did so good for me. You okay ? Did I go too hard ? ” he asks tenderly, nuzzling the back of your neck, just listening to your shaky breaths as you come down from your high.

“ I can’t feel my legs. ” you swallow, dazed smile on your face. “ So good . . . ”

“ Aw, sorry, angel. I’ve got you, come here. Ooh – where’s my – phone – let’s see how long you endured me for. ”

“ Felt like . . . forever . . . ”

He chuckled under his breath at that and leaned off the bed, reaching for his phone that had fallen right off the edge when he was making the bed violently shake earlier.

“ Ooh ! Baby, we’ve got a new record. Three hours. ”

“ Oh my god, no wonder I can barely fucking move . . . you’re a menace. ”

He smiles cheekily, “ Wanna make it four ? ”

“ Are you crazy ?! ”

“ Yes, of course. Don’t you love me for it ? ” he coos in a sultry voice, coming to press a loving kiss to your damp cheek.

You feel his weight lift off the bed, you tiredly peek at where he’s going and – of course, like the sweet husband he is, he’s getting you a towel. You can hear his exhausted huffs of breath. There’s cream running down your slit, some smeared across your pussy and frothed up.

He comes back into the room, smiling admiringly at your sleepy body. You’re sinking into the pillows, too tired to think.

“ ‘toru . . . ”

“ Angel ? ” he hums in response, slowly starting to clean you up from the thighs up. You feel his big hands massaging the numbness out of your legs.

“ I love you. ”

He smirks and presses a kiss to your pussy from the back, making you giggle. “ Love you too, my girl. No one makes me feel better than you do. Come here. Haha, are your legs still numb ? Should I massage them more ? M'kay, sweet girl. ”

The silence is sweet and long. He's massaging your body, feeling over you like you're his little masterpiece, his little angel.

Then he breaks the silence.

“ Told you so. ” he smiles victoriously.

You groan. “ Shut up. I was just teasing when I said you had shit stamina ! ”

“ I know, but I still hated that you said it and felt the need to prove a point. ”

You snuggle into his chest, making his heart flutter like he's a boy with a crush again.

“ Yeah yeah, point proven. ”

“ Aaand what's the point ? Tell me, I wanna hear it. ” he teases.

“ You can go on for hours. ”

He smiles to himself. “ Damn right I can. Glad my good girl learned her lesson. ”

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[tyunni]

┈➤ I LIKE YOU SO MUCH!!! (when ENHYPEN like you...)

enhypen masterlist | library

genre: fluff, fluff, fluff! warnings: i'm not sure if any specific gender is mentioned but keep in mind i do tend to usually write fem!reader, enha r kinda losers, mentions of being drunk in jakes part, isnt proofread so if you see any mistakes.... oh well! wc: 2.6k+

a/n: good lord, i haven't written anything in MONTHS so i'm a bit rusty 😭 i started writing maknae line first im p sure you can tell i put more effort in them and then i started getting tired, sorry😭😭😭

☆ — LEE HEESEUNG

who would've thought the cool, the chill, the awesome lee heeseung would end up being such a loser. a lovestruck, foolishly in love loser.

your fingers lightly grazed his hand when you walked past him in the hallway today, a touch that lasted a mere second, yet heeseung's heart exploded, and so did his friends' group chat when he boasted about your interaction like you had just asked his hand in marriage. he knows being lovesick is lame, but so what?! he can't help that he melts into a pink puddle of adoration whenever you make small talk, or when he closes his eyes an image of you pops into his head and makes his palms feel sweaty. yes, he feels his knees go weak at the mere mention of your name, and he's willing to endure his younger friends teasing him every time they spot you hanging out with your own group of friends.

so what if you're the only thing on his mind every second of his day. it's completely normal to make playlists for your crush, giggle, and roll around in your bed when you let the lyrics sink in and fill your head with the thoughts of the one you desire.

it's also totally normal of him to write down little compliments on a piece of paper and put them on your desk when you're not looking. he giggles like a little girl when you open the note and read not even a third fraction of what heeseung truly thinks of you and wishes to tell you one day. his smile grows wider when you finally read the initials written on the note, LHS, and you look over to his desk with your cheeks dusted pink, widened eyes looking into heeseung's.

(rest of the members under the cut!!)

☆ — PARK JONGSEONG

jay is very fond of you, he accepted that quite quickly. you're cute. he likes cute stuff, that's something new he has discovered since he started to fancy you.

"jay, are you serious?" - riki turned towards the older with a blank face, tired of his friends new shopping addiction, - "you have like 4 hello kitty stuffed toys in your bedroom, you don't need another one."

ah, innocent, naive riki. he doesn't know having a crush makes one forget about any form of rationality and make every decision without giving it another thought. jay is the number one victim of the 'everything reminds me of them' disease, he feels every wrinkle of his brain smoothen whenever he thinks of you, so it's not a surprise that he can't control his hand as he swipes his credit card and buys himself another plushie with a lovestruck grin on his face.

"are you even listening to me?" - the younger complains, jabbing jay's arm with his elbow to get at least a little reaction out of him. if anything else but you were on jay's mind this would've worked and he would've scolded riki by now, talking his ear off about how annoying he is, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes at his childishness. but it doesn't work.

"you're such a cheeseball, y/n has made you soft, jay, she's ruining you!"

but riki's words fall on deaf ears the second jay's eyes land on another cute stuffed animal that had reminded him of you as he grabs his friend's arm roughly and drags him into yet another store.

☆ — SIM JAEYUN

oh, he's down bad. jake would do anything for you. yes, even walking all the way from his house to the party you were at just to pick you up and walk you home, making sure you reach your house safely.

you called him in the middle of the night, the buzzing of his phone waking jake up. he groaned at the brightness of his screen flashing his newly opened eyes, yet at the sight of your name he rubbed the sleepiness off them, quickly picking up your call.

"jake, i'm drunk!"

and that's all it took for him to jump out of his bed and run towards his destination. surely enough you were waiting outside for him, a big smile growing on your face at the sight of him.

sure, he was extremely tired and out of breath, his voice was still groggy from waking up around 10 minutes ago, the cold, chilly night yet to have its effect on him and wake him up completely, yet he still let you ride on his back when you started complaining about how your heels hurt your feet.

you had been talking to him about something, even though you had no idea what you were saying with the way your words were slurred, your voice muffled by his jacket. jake was nodding his head, humming after a few sentences to make sure you knew he was listening, even though he didn't know what he was listening to. you started off by talking about the party, and somewhere along the way you got lost in your own words and so did jake. his soft hums and the steady rhythm of his feet lulled you to sleep, and when he felt your eyelashes close against the nape of his neck, your breath falling onto his skin as your cheek rested further upon his shoulder is when he finally let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head, stopping in his tracks to close his eyes and think to himself:

"fuck, i love her, don't i?"

☆ — PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon is desperately in love with you. he can't help it, butterflies swarm his stomach when he thinks about you, a sheepish grin makes its way onto his features when you talk to him, his eyes dart across your face every chance he gets so he can burn every second spent with you right into his memory.

"sunghoon, do you think this looks good or should i try on the blue sweater?"

to be completely honest, even if you wore a trash bag he'd think you looked gorgeous, and he hadn't been paying attention to any outfit you had shown him so far, your smile which grew wider with each compliment he gave you the only thing on his mind.

"you look beautiful, y/n."

"oh, come on, sunghoon! you've been telling me this about every outfit!" - you groan, yet a grin is still plastered on your face at his sweet words, "you have to help me!"

sunghoon tries, he really tries to hold himself back. his teeth sink into his tongue in hopes of biting back the words that were about to slip out, yet they still do. and so does his little secret.

"it's not my fault i'm in love with you!"

☆ — KIM SUNOO

sunoo is a sweet guy. everyone likes him: the teachers, the students, his friends, and complete strangers. his smile is contagious, his face is soft and beautiful, his eyes crinkle up when he smiles, and he's kind, helpful, friendly. who wouldn't like him? well, you, apparently.

it's not that he's intrigued by your cold attitude towards him, he's simply determined to make you like him just like everyone else. it's quite difficult to get to know you though, you don't speak to anyone except a select few. if your friends don't come to school you usually sit alone, either mindlessly scribbling in your notebook, or sleeping. you always have that look on your face. one of pure boredom, uninterest, that "why are you even talking to me" face.

sunoo thinks it's stupid. how could you not be thrilled to talk to the people around you? how is it even possible to not want to get to know everyone, to grow your circle, have new people to talk to and share experiences with.

you know who sunoo is. everyone knows who sunoo is. when he walks past you down the hallway he's always waving at someone, stopping in his tracks a few times to have a little small talk, then quickly picking up his pace once the bell rings so he gets to make it in time for class. it doesn't matter if he's late though, the teachers adore him like he's their own son, and he hasn't gotten a single second of detention. sunoo has the sunshine privilege. that's unfair. you don't like when things are unfair. you don't like the sunshine privilege. you don't like sunoo.

so you avoid him.

but he somehow still finds his way back to you.

"she totally hates you, dude, get over it," - sunghoon groans, shoving another loaf of bread into his mouth, and threatening to shove some into sunoo's mouth so he stops talking about you for the fifth time today.

"but why?! i didn't even do anything to her, i tried talking to her every single day since she moved here, i'm nice, i'm helpful, i'm a great guy, what am i doing wrong?!" - the younger boy whines into his palms, head buried in his hands, trying to come up with a way to win you over.

one of his other friends chimes into the conversation, taking a seat in between his friends and playfully wrapping his arm around sunoo, - "it's okay, man, there must be a way to get your little crush to like you!"

sunoo whips his head towards the boy, eyebrows furrowed so deeply that you'd think they'd merge into one another any second. - "heeseung, it's not a crush!"

sunghoon chuckles at his oblivious friend, - "is too!"

"... is it?"

you are kinda cute. your attitude, although not sunoo's style, makes you look even more adorable. you have pretty lips too, although you're always frowning. he thinks you'd look better with the corners of your lips turned upwards though. he wants to see you smile. he wants to make you smile. he wants to make you his.

☆ — YANG JUNGWON

jungwon thinks he's a pretty chill guy. he's always been levelheaded. most of the time he's the only levelheaded person in the room, to be completely honest. he knows what to say and when to say it. although he resembles a cat, the saying "cat got your tongue" had never applied to him. so why is he standing in front of you, his crush, ready to have his very first conversation with you, without a single word coming out of his mouth?

"oh, hey! jungwon, right?" - you ask, sending a soft smile his way.

you know his name. you know his name. you know his name.

"huh? yeah... i'm jungwon. um..." - his confident smile fades instantly when it really sinks in that he has no idea what to say to you. he always knows what to say, how could this happen to him?! this is ridiculous. if he weren't standing in front of you right now he'd slap himself in hopes of rattling his brain somehow.

your eyebrows furrow at the awkward silence taking over, - "do you need anything, jungwon?"

his name falls past your lips so gracefully that if hearing you say his name followed with the three words he wants to say to you the most means he must sell his every worldly possession, he will. but he can't tell you that. he can't tell you how pretty your eyes are either, he can't tell you that he wants to hold your hand, or wrap his arms around you and keep you in his warm embrace for a little while. or how he wants to bury his head in the crook of your neck and bask in your warmth, or that you're the most beautiful person he has ever laid his eyes on and it'd be an honor to take you out on a date. yeah, he definitely can't say that.

"you're the most beautiful person i've ever laid my eyes on, it'd be an honor to take you out on a date..."

it's over. he's a goner.

the way you twiddle with your fingers at his confession goes completely unnoticed despite his big round eyes growing wider at his own words. he's too far gone to see how a warm smile had made its way onto your face.

"sure, i'd love to!"

it's not over. in fact, it's just getting started.

☆ — NISHIMURA RIKI

riki is quite good at hiding his crush on you, considering how the overwhelming feelings have such a weight to them that he's sure his heart doubles at the mere mention of your name to make room for the intense emotions that'll start kicking in. you two aren't dating, although he wishes you were, and you're most definitely not best friends. he knows you, you know him, you think he's nice, he thinks about you every second of every day, y'know, the usual...

"riki, hey!" - you push through the crowd of students walking around a narrow hallway that could only be described as a jar filled to the brim with tiny little ants, very studious one's at that!

his friends' heads immediately turn your way. a girl, talking to riki?! although their eyes don't stay glued on you for too long, they quickly glance at riki. the sight was hilarious, his long fingers were brushing through his disheveled hair, free hand tugging at the hem of his hoodie to smoothen out any wrinkles. there's a soft tint of pink spread across his cheeks, nothing too noticeable, although the burning red glow of his ears was far from discreet.

"y/n, hey!" - he grins, the hand combing through his hair now scratching the nape of his neck to try and play it cool... very smooth! a muffled laugh escapes from one of his friend's shut lips as their orbs dart between the boy and you.

you reach into your pocket, rummaging through the various things you keep inside. crackling of your house keys and noises of crumpled-up paper can be heard before you take out something. riki's eyes try their best to tear away from your mesmerizing features so he can see what you're trying to show him with your arm stretched towards him and a big grin on your face. he notices a little something lying on your palm. it's a duck keychain. if you were any other person he'd look at the item in your hand with a disgusted look on his face, eyebrows knitted together, eyes squinting in pure horror. but you're you. you're the love of his life. that's probably why riki can feel his heart thumping against his ribcage, a stupid smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he tries his best to fight it off, yet the inevitable happens.

"take it, it's a gift! i saw it on the way to school and it reminded me of you!"

he quickly takes the keychain from your palm, ensuring his fingers stray as far away from yours as possible. even the slightest bit of physical contact and he feels his heart will explode for good. he mumbles out a thank you before you turn on your heels and walk away, completely oblivious that the butterflies in his stomach now make their way towards his throat, making him swallow dry.

"hey, riki, what's that?" - jungwon nudges him with his elbow, eyeing the item riki's holding between his fingers. a smile makes its way onto jungwon's lips as he glances up at his friend who's currently grinning from one red ear to another, rosy cheeks like pink buttons on a sweater made with love and care.

"i thought you hated ducks," - sunoo adds, sly hands reaching towards the keychain to try and pry it out of riki's hands, but instead the tall boy clutches harder onto the item, bringing it to his chest.

"well i like this one!" - he adds, furrowing his eyebrows and glaring at his nosy friend.

riki never knew he could like ducks this much.

©tyunni please don't copy, translate or repost any of my work!

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[churipu]

WHAT REMINDS THEM OF YOU 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, megumi fushiguro, itadori yuuji

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. just pure fluff :D

note. i was going to write some hurt comfort — but then i figured that i wanted to keep myself sane for today :>

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

anything strawberry. scent, taste — anything strawberry.

gojo remembered when the first time he brought you home some honeoye strawberries after a mission since it was in season. the way your eyes just lit up at the sight of strawberries made him happy, and from then on — gojo looks at a picture of a strawberry or even smelled strawberry from god knows where.

he just thinks of you.

one time gojo saw a rabbit eating a strawberry while scrolling through his social media, and he wasted no time sending the video to you with a small message: "you <33"

or the other time gojo sees a bucket cap with strawberry motives and he just had to get it for you. the male waited in line for half an hour for that hat (and he had to "fight" a kid for it, he won in the end because the kid moved on to a duck motive hat instead).

"baby, look what i got you — strawberry scented bath bomb. it was the last one on stock, and i had to argue with a lady over it," he happily bursts through the door, boasting while raising what seemed to be a bath bomb.

gojo just knows when you change your usual brand of strawberry lip balm. it took him a peck and he asks you, "did you change your brand? this one tastes weird," he wipes his lips.

"they were out of stock, 'toru."

"why didn't you say so?" he cooed, kissing the bridge of your nose, "i'd go to the other side of the earth to get you one, y'know?"

you chuckled, "or, i could just wait for it to stock back . . ."

"nonsense!"

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

the smiths.

he finds it amusing when you start quoting that one scene from 500 days of summer, "i love the smiths . . ." and he just unexpectedly replied with, "sorry?"

but that time — he didn't know that he was "unknowingly" going along with it. confused, he had to question you about it, and when you told him it was from a movie. megumi finally understood and thought that maybe you really liked the movie.

he was wrong. it wasn't the movie, it was the smiths. so now, every time he sees anything or hears anything about the band, he finds himself thinking about you — but he'd never actually say that. megumi often listens to their songs just so he could understand when you talked to him about it.

also, quoting the movie was now a habit for you two. you just go, "i love the smiths," out of the blue and megumi will continue it (even if he says that it's pretty corny).

megumi loves it when you listen to the smiths out loud, singing softly to the tune. the male tries really hard to get you unofficial merchandise, official merchandise for the smiths are actually so hard to find today — so he just had to go and make it custom for you.

"and when the double decker bus, crashes into us . . ." he heard you sing, both of your ears jammed with earbuds from the earphones, "to die by your side."

that, was your favorite song. and megumi made it into a custom painting of you and him as if the two of you were in that one scene in 500 days of summer. i'm not kidding.

𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈

mochi skin. the texture, the flesh. it just reminded him of your cheeks — it's so squishy and soft. every single time he buys a mochi, he makes sure to do something that he calls a squish test.

where he squishes the mochi, and then squishes your cheeks. if they don't feel the same, yuuji gets rid of the mochi and gets another one (he eats them).

"it doesn't feel the same y/n, i don't like it," he whines out softly, tossing the mochi into his mouth — he angrily takes out another bill of cash to buy another mochi.

"yuuji, why does it have to be the same again?" you asked him, hands inside your pockets.

"because . . ." good point. why?

the male prompts to ignore you and buy another one (three others) to make sure they are the same texture as your cheeks. it's something he does — if a mochi he buys doesn't feel the same way like your cheeks does.

he eats them or lets you have them.

if it does.

he also eats them or lets you have them.

it's just something he does for fun, so he could always remember you. and when you're not there with him — yuuji makes sure to buy at least five before coming over to visit you so he could do the test.

when he's not feeling like it but he misses you, he takes a video and sends it to you with a caption: "i miss you."

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[joonsytip]

Only for Love || Mingyu - Part 2

Pairings: Mingyu x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Husband!Mingyu, Cold Wife!Reader, Arranged Marriage au, Contract Marriage au, Divorce au

Synopsis: When an accidental discovery has your perception of happy married life crumbling down, you do what you think is the best for everyone involved. Naturally, your opinion of the best doesn't cater to your husband's. So what happens when things spiral out due to unforeseen events?

Warnings: NSFW, virgin reader, cunnilingus, consensual and penetrative sex, couple uses protection (you do too), mentions of past accident, workplace politics allusions, mentions of getting stalked and periods.

Word Count: 6.1k

Minors DNI! Minors DNI! Minors DNI! Minors DNI!

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue

It's been half an hour since your arrival to the party and the lack of interaction between you and Mingyu starts to raise some brows.

Mingyu stays rooted to the same place, his eyes fixated on you as he realises that it was wrong of him to totally wring you out and knowing your temperament he's not brave enough yet to place himself in the periphery of your vision.

"The marriage is really a sham, afterall."

Mingyu scoffs, not bothering to look at the source of the voice.

Kim Hanjun has been demoted under the obvious reason of underperforming and it's boiling his blood having to work under Mingyu because being a man with connections and boasting about it openly would have eventually come to bite him back given he's not even good at his job.

"Your wife isn't even interested in you it seems."

Fisting his hands, Mingyu decides to mute out his words.

"Oh so you're not gonna speak because you might accidentally spill something?"

But there's a limit to how much one can endure. Even though he has the patience of a saint, Mingyu just can't tolerate this obnoxious colleague of him.

Just as he opens his mouth to retort, he feels a hand circling his arm. It's you.

"You must be Kim Hanjun?", you say with a poker face, "You're quite the infamous one around here."

Both the men are caught off-guard by your presence.

"Now if you could excuse us.", your grip tightens on your husband, "I have some making up to do, as you can see husband's upset is at me for not spanning attention to him."

Hanjun is rendered speechless when you step forward and say in a dangerously low tone, "If I see you pestering my husband one more time, you might not find your company ID working while swiping."

The man is suddenly sweating and you cross over your arms with a smirk, "I usually don't interfere but sorry to break it to you, if we come down to this, I'd like you to always remember what position my uncle holds in the company. You're not the only one who can exert connections."

Mingyu looks at you in awe. He wants to record this on his phone so that he could watch this again and again. His wife is standing up for him and that's the absolute hottest you've looked.

Once Hanjun leaves, you also turn on your heels to do so but Mingyu doesn't let you.

"I'm tired.", you say turning to look at him, hand trying to scuffle out of his strong grip, "I'm leaving."

"We're leaving.", Mingyu says leading the way, hands still held together.

While it's a sight for others to finally see the couple, might be romantic to some as well by the way Mingyu is not letting go of you but you know the truth so does your husband.

The car ride back home is silent because halfway neither of you speak and for the rest of the path, you somehow fall asleep.

You wake up in Mingyu's arm as he carries you to the bedroom.

"Let me down.", you say tiredly.

But your husband only sets you down on the bed and once he does he starts spilling the apologies.

"I was mad at you and thought you won't come if I asked you.", he says lowering his gaze, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay.", you say not meeting his gaze either and fumbling your fingers, "You should tell me if any of my behaviour has hurt or is bothering you. I can't read minds, Mingyu."

There's a pang in his chest as guilt consumes him. His mind lingers back on how he had been ignoring you for the past few days. And now that he looks at you, he realises the chronic tiredness ghosting over your features.

"Now if you could please move so that I can get changed.", you say, hands gesturing the way out.

Mingyu swears he hasn't had a drop of alcohol present in his body at the moment so why is he all of a sudden, seeing and feeling things differently?

Why are you glowing in the poorly lit room? Since when did you have such deep beautiful pair of eyes? How are your lips looking so luscious?

Mingyu loosens the tie round his neck, clearing his throat. As he has been crouching, he stands up and sides himself so that you would get out of sight because somehow though it's chilly but by doing absolutely nothing you've managed to heat him up.

You walk upto the closet and after searching for a while you turn around to look at your husband.

"Can I wear something of yours?", you ask, leaning against the door, "I think all of my comfortable nightwears have ended up in the laundry."

The man chokes, he wonders if the stars are plotting against him tonight. He settles with a subtle nod, looking everywhere but at you.

You mumble a thanks and grab the first thing that looks comfortable, going into the bathroom to change.

Mingyu rushes out of the room grabbing a pair of clothes and proceeds to wash himself in the guest bathroom just to cool off. He watches his red tinted cheeks in the dazed vision in the mirror, notices his heavy breaths and eyes down to the semi grown tent in his pants.

Something's wrong with him. He can't comprehend his state. His mind lingers back to the moments when you were defending him against Hanjun. His heart beats erratically when he remembers the accidental view of your cleavage through the dress when he was carrying you inside. The slit of your dress wasn't helpful at all as he could see your trained thighs on display everytime you moved. And your long manicured nails, he's sure that they would look beautiful running through his nape and back.

Mingyu slaps himself twice on both the cheeks, he takes a cold shower.

But he's just a man afterall, so when sees you standing in front of the dressing table in his shirt and shorts he breath hitches and he gasps. Loud enough to catch your attention. As you look at him, he looks at your collarbones peaking out because his shirt is too loose on you.

And before you could say anything he's already laying on the bed hurriedly facing away, pulling over the covers to hide the re-emerging boner.

You follow his actions, laying beside him but facing his back. You wonder if you should sleep at the guestroom because your husband is still mad at you. And his actions are clearly saying so as the person who can't sleep without hugging is maintaining the distance, not bothering to even face you, like he has been doing for the past days.

With a heavy sigh, you tell him, "I'll sleep in the guestroom. We can talk when you feel like you can bear to look at me again."

Just as you turn on your back to get up, you're being held back and within a span of seconds your husband is hovering on top of you.

"I'm sorry, I can't control myself anymore."

And admitting that he crashes his lips onto yours. You gasp grabbing his arms before sighing into the kiss. Mingyu sucks onto your lips pacing them slower now. His hand roams up to rest on your neck, gently rubbing along the column, the sensation of his touch eliciting another gasp out of you.

His tongue enters your mouth and it's lewd in the way they slotting perfectly on each other. His mouth descends to press kisses on your chin and collarbones.

The one time he detaches his mouth off you to unbotton your (his) shirt, you're tapping on his forearm. His gaze follows your hands which are now covering your eyes.

There's a bit of silence. Mingyu wonders if he's forcing himself on you, without your consent and with the thought just as he prepares himself to get off, you say something that wracks his head.

"This will be my first time. I've never been touched before.", you say shakily, evidently embarassed enough to not uncover your eyes until Mingyu does so.

Though Mingyu has his mind too clouded to be pondering over anything but the first question he asks with those eyes now turned soft, after urging you to look at him is, "Do you want to do this? Is it okay for me to proceed? Tell me if you want me to stop."

"Please don't stop.", you breathe out immediately averting your gaze which causes you to miss the smile your husband directs at you before placing his hand under your head to raise it swiftly to kiss you.

"I'll make it worth, Y/N. I'll make you feel good.", he whispers in between the kisses.

You lay naked, all bared out under him as after spanning enough attention to your boobs, Mingyu shifts all his focus on your wet, leaking core.

"Gonna prep you first", he says in his husky voice, "and let me know if you want me to stop."

His tongue laps a long stripe against your cunt and you grip the sheet underneath desperately to hold onto. He keeps tonguing your cunt, holding your legs apart as they try to close off, his nose bumping against your clit making it impossible to hold your moans anymore.

You are squirming under the mercy of yoYir husband and his tongue. There's a knot tightening in the pit of your stomach and you could do nothing, not even speak out any coherent sentences.

"Cum for me, Y/N.", Mingyu urges you and that's the push you need before pouring out the juices all over his face. You're catching breathes when sensitivity hits you as your husband licks you clean off the juices.

You are biting down on your arm when Mingyu decides to prep you a bit further by scissoring his long fingers in your hole until it's oozing out for the second time.

Mingyu presses a soft kiss on your forehead before scurrying away for a few seconds and coming back holding a bunch of condoms in his hands.

"You had those?", you ask propping yourself on your elbows, genuinely amused.

Mingyu cocks his brow, "Not sure who it was but one of the guys has kept them in the drawer at one of the times they visited."

He climbs on the bed, straddling over you as he tears the wrapper with his teeth and rolls up a couple of condoms up his girth, "I didn't even know until all of them sent the same picture in the group chat."

You nod in silence, looking at his big veiny cock and it's red tip that's leaking precum, wondering if it's gonna even fit inside of you.

Mingyu hovers over you, pressing another soft kiss on your forehead.

"It's gonna hurt a bit at start but it's gonna feel good, okay?"

You nod again letting Mingyu hold your hands over your head, intertwining the fingers. He slowly pushes his length and sensing your ragged breathing he stills for sometime before continuing until he hilts all the way inside.

Tears roll down, as you try to adjust and your husband does nothing but kiss you softly trying to soothe you, divert your mind from the pain.

"Let me know when you want me to move."

He waits patiently and once you ask him to move, he thrusts ever so slowly, his lips never leaving yours.

"Gyu, faster please.", you say breaking the kiss.

And who is your husband to deny your wishes. He picks up his pace steadily thrusting in and out, as both of your moans fill the room.

Mingyu fiddles with your nipples by taking them into his mouth while his fingers rub your clit at a fast pace.

You're too dumbified by the way your body is reacting. Your legs are shaking, your stomach is pitting a knot again, your hands are gripping onto your husband for dear life and you swear you're seeing stars.

"Y/N?", Mingyu calls you out, seeing your dazed vision, "Are you okay?"

Your reply comes as another moan as your nails dig crescent shapes onto his back deeper, running through the back of his neck, grabbing onto the hair on the nape.

"Can you hold on for a bit more?", he coaxes you once he realises your gummy walls are clenching harder around his cock, "Let's cum together, can you do that for me right?"

Mingyu looks at the juncture where the bodies are meeting, where your cunt is swallowing him wholly. He groans at the sight of white foamy ring around his cock and kisses you hard making you squeak into his mouth.

"Let it go, Y/N.", he encourages you, his calloused fingers now rubbing your sides as his thrusts turn sloppy, "Cum for me."

Both of you are catching breathes. You lay eyes closed, not feeling your body at all. Mingyu lies looking at you, admiration laced in his eyes, his heart doing dibs thinking about how you trusted him enough to give your firsts to him. He realises that unlike him, you're not vocal so he has to focus on your body language to understand your needs. He also makes his mind to have a conversation with you like a descent person in the morning but before that--

"You need to pee.", he tells discarding the condom in the bin and while you groan he continues, "And we need to wash up. I'll run the bath, clean us up and change the sheets so please don't fall asleep till then."

You are incapable of registering his words so you just let him do whatever he wants to do with you.

Late in the morning, the conversation gets shelved until evening because Mingyu fucks you again because he is insatiable and so are you. Well, you both end up being each other's breakfast in bed.

It's the day, you dread the most. It was the same day sixteen years ago when you lost your family. It's your birthday.

If only you hadn't thrown a tantrum about not wanting to celebrate the day at home as it had been done for all the years. Birthdays had always been a great deal to you. You wanted the celebration to be a bit grander which led all to unanimously decide to go the soaring picnic spot, inviting all your friends as well. Uncle being your favourite person, the rest of the family drove the to venue as it was an hour drive away a little earlier to set up things while you and your uncle drove in a van along with all your friends.

But instead of the picnic spot, you ended up in the hospital with your uncle identifying the bodies. The collision of two vehicles were severe enough to claim the lives of all present in them.

Though your uncle had never expressed anything as such but you know you are to blame for everything. You wondered if seeing you was even bearable to him. The guilt and regret changed you whole as a person. After the incident you distanced yourself from everything, everyone.

Birthdays mean nothing to you now. Unlike for other workers, no one receives your birthday mail as you have requested to the officials. No one knows, no one asks, no one cares and that's perfect for you.

It's been a long day, with you driving successive review and checkpoint meetings. One of the rare days where you want nothing but to fall to the comfort of your bed.

Just as you enter the house, you see a string a shoes lined one after another. You enter the hallway and come across the faces of your in-laws, your husband, his friends and your uncle.

Gatherings on any other day is always welcomed but not today. You have this look of disapproval on your face and the entire flock of people freeze. Without a word, you disappear into your room and it's about half an hour when you don't come out, Mingyu assures everyone and goes into the room.

"What are they doing here?", you ask as soon as he enters.

"Why? Are they not allowed to visit us?"

You glare at him, "They are. But why today? And you always inform me beforehand if anyone is coming so why's there an exception today?"

Mingyu sighs but walks upto you, "Y/N, they're just here to spend sometime with us. But if you want then I'll tell them to leave and trust me they'll leave instantly."

"Tell them to leave then. I don't want to entertain anyone today.", you say stoicly.

Mingyu nods, "All of them have brought something they've cooked for you. Hansol cooks occasionally and almost burnt his house but he came in so proud, bragging how he was able to cook something for you that's edible. And oh", he raises his finger plastered with a bandaid, "I've got a cut while chopping the vegetables. So are you gonna atleast eat them or should I tell them to take those back as well?"

There's a pang in your heart, it's constricts within your chest. Your eyes glistens with tears, the resolute within you starts to dissolve but you could never afford to do so. You don't deserve to be celebrated.

"It's the death anniversary of the people I love.", you say helplessly, "I don't remember them vividly, each year the memories of them are fading away. I can't bear to look at uncle without feeling guilty. He lost his son, his wife, his brother all because I wanted to celebrate a stupid birthday."

You are sobbing now and Mingyu holds you in his arms, letting his own tears fall. He hates that there's nothing he could provide to soothe you.

"There are so many words on the tip of my tongue but they're all meaningless.", he says and bites on his tongue to stop those tears from spilling, "I'm sorry but I won't let you wallow in sadness, I won't leave you all by yourself."

After staying quiet in his embrace, you tell him, "People are waiting for you, you should go. I'll be fine, I'm used to this."

Mingyu pulls away and holds your face gently, "Do you trust me?"

Your eyes say a lot, even if you hadn't given a nod, your husband would've known the answer.

"Then let's go and spend time with them.", Mingyu coaxes you, "They wouldn't do anything to make you uncomfortable, if they do, I'll send them back."

You ponder over for sometime. Past years have always been the same, you wanting the day to pass by anyhow. You've preferred to be alone but you think you'd make an exception for your husband and all those people who are waiting for you outside knowing they genuinely care for you.

When you both step out of the room, you could see the worried faces and it makes you feel bad.

"We're are really sorry for barging in.", Seokmin breaks the silence as he stands up and following his suite everyone does so well, "We'll get going."

And there's a lot of shuffling. Everyone is off their seats and packing the stuffs when you decide to interrupt.

"I'm hungry", you say everyone halt, "And I'm bored of eating his cooking.", you point at your husband who gasp in offence but smiles nonetheless.

And that's how the dinner table was set with everyone sitting together eating and chatting happily. No one wishes you birthday, none of them have bought you gifts and it does seem like another normal gathering except for the subtle wishes of wellbeing they launch softly at you.

"You are beautiful, Y/N, inside out.", Minhee says as she secures the seat beside you, "I hope to see you healthy and beautiful always."

Sometime later, when the topic of work is brought up, Soonyoung slickly tells, "Y/N is handling such a big project.", and looking at you he speaks with a mouthful, "I know it'll be a huge success. Hope we get to see you achieve many more milestones in your career."

And throughout the dinner you recieve such praises and wishes from every single one of them. You didn't want to send them off but you had to with a heavy heart. First time, in several years you feel like you have a family, you want to hold onto people, want to expect certain things and be a part of them.

First time in several years, your birthday didn't haunt you rather it gave you a reason to smile.

Lying the bed, tired after a long day when you feel an arm drape around your waist, you turn to face your husband, snuggling closer in the comfort of his embrace when he opens his arms for you.

His eyes droop in sleepiness but he strokes your hair saying, "I wish you to be happy.", smiling sheepishly he adds, "Thanks for trusting me."

And when you watch your husband drift off to sleep, stroking his hair with a hesitant hand, you whisper, "Thanks for tolerating me."

Your relationship with Mingyu progresses steady but it's beautiful in it's own way. To you, Mingyu hasn't only been a good husband, he has been a great companion. He takes care of you, knows your limits and shortcomings, never makes you feel weirded out and makes sure to sort things out to be on the same page.

Your calendar previously which had only meeting dates marked on them are now filled with many more events such as your anniversary, Mingyu's birthday, Minhee's birthday, your uncle's birthday, your in-laws' anniversary etc etc. A smile appears on your face when you reminisce how late you were to your second anniversary party and how pissed Mingyu was at you, avoiding you the whole night until after the party was over and you had stripped yourself naked in front of him which worked to dissolve his anger as you let him fuck you dumb till the dawn.

You have a best friend now and her name is Minhee. You've always liked her and over the years you two have grown closer. Mingyu's friends, well more of yours, are not scared of you anymore, they've dropped all the formalities to pit long ago.

Junhui shares every funny thing he sees on the internet, on appointment days he rants to you about patients and work. Soonyoung now shares table with you during lunch and eat your ears off. Seokmin calls you randomly during work and if you don't pick up, he just sends you a candid picture of your husband with a caption 'thought you'd be missing him, so here's your husband. Don't thank me, just name one of your gaming character after me.'

Hansol is the most random of all, he just pings you any fact he learned out of the blue without any context. Sometimes when on asking when you confirm that you're free he sends you a bunch of pics telling you to choose the best among the lot. Jeonghan is the quietest among all, he'd only talk to you during the gatherings.

You have started calling Mingyu's parents as what Mingyu calls them because you are comfortable to call them so. They've blended into your life making you feel as their own. These changes in your life have helped you bond better with your uncle as well.

It's been over two years and you think you're happy. You think your married life is perfect and you're in love with certain things.

You love the back hugs, love those forehead kisses, love the smell of coffee that hits the house in the morning, love the way his mouth opens and closes in sleep, love when the fangs graze his lips as he smiles wide, love when his hand sneaks to wrap around yours on a busy road.

You're in love.

In love with your husband because how could you not, he's so easy to love. Though you feel there's still a lot you both need to discover about each other, you hope he'd also love you one day. He's your first love after all.

You are in the middle of a meeting when your phone keeps vibrating continuously. Trying to ignore it, your brows knit in agitation but that soon turns into worry when you check the caller ID. It's Minhee. Excusing yourself, you call her back.

And now after a drive of an hour you find yourself in front of the park, near her apartment.

"It's okay, I'm here now.", you say patting on Minhee's back, "Once you feel better, tell me everything."

And after some moments Minhee does relay everything. There's a thug-like guy who has started visiting the café she regulars at because somehow Minhee has piqued his interest. Even though she didn't notice at first, it started to strike her that she has been seeing a face almost everywhere she visits.

He has been following her to and back from the school she teaches in. He's been bold enough to get in the way and ask her to sleep with him for a night, if she wants to stop getting bothered by him.

Minhee has had enough to slap him straight across his face, even threatening to report him to the police. And that seemed to work because he didn't appear before her for a whole week until today.

As she describes it terrified, he had an ominous gaze, when he had given her an ultimatum to be compliant or be ready for the worse.

"I was so shocked and scared. I could only think about calling you. If Gyu knows about this he'd kill that guy even before police knows about him and would never let me work here. I don't want that.", Minhee says, "I am planning to go to the police today."

"You're so brave", you tell her as your gaze sweeps across the surrounding, "Let's deal with that guy now. Is it that guy standing over there?"

And Minhee now ponders over if it would have been safer to call her brother because the stalker guy, all bruised from the beating he got from you is kneeling in front of you both with hands up in air.

You've called the police and as soon as they arrive, that guy is mumbling confessions of all the harassment he did and tried to perform on Minhee.

"Did I tell you, I'm trained in taekwondo?", you ask her frowning, "Uncle also made me take specialization classes on self defence.", you suddenly hiss because of the bruises inflicted on you during the hassle and look at her.

Minhee engulfs you in a hug, "Thank you so much. You're a lifesaver."

Your lips curl up and you say pulling away, "Let's go to the station and complete the formalities and then we'll have to inform Mingyu and mom & dad as well."

Minhee hesitates but she knows she'll eventually have to so.

"Let's do that.", she agrees, "I have something else to tell you."

Your brows quirk up questioning as you both head towards your car.

"I have developed a liking towards Soonyoung.", she smiles looking at your flabbergasted demeanor, "No ones knows except you and him."

You swear, your head spins at this.

And as if she could read your mind, she adds, "I don't know how he feels but he said he'd never date me because I'm his friend's sister and that's against bro code."

You scoff, how typical of Soonyoung.

When Mingyu stumbles upon his sister's apartment that night, he finds her sleeping peacefully in her room. And when he goes searching for you, he finds you in the bathroom clutching the slab. Your eyes are red, forehead glistening with sweat.

"Oh god, Y/N...", Mingyu rushes inside as the door was open and holds you up on your feet, "what happened?"

"Stop shouting, you'll wake her up.", you say groaning, "and why do you care anyways?"

Right, you both rarely fought but when you did it would go on for days, like now. It started with a simple matter but escalated real quick causing Mingyu to lash out on you and give you a silent treatment. You tried to talk to him twice, which was more than you think you have done but were met with radio silence. He went as far as being petty enough to not even wait for you at dinner table or sleep facing you. And that's how you decided to shut him out as well. It's been a week since you both talked.

As Mingyu holds your waist to support you, you cry out in pain. You tried to resist but when he glares at you, you give up. He unbottons your top and his eyes almost gauze out on seeing the cut on your waist.

"How did it happen?", he sits you on the counter and pulls out the first aid box.

You stay quiet.

"Y/N, I'm asking something.", he uses an authoritative tone, looking at you.

"I thought we are not talking.", you snark at him but gasp when he dabs the cotton with antiseptic gel on the cut. He does several other sorts of things which makes you think he's a trained nurse before pasting the adhesive.

"Y/N, please.", he gets up and holds your face, "I know I have been an asshole and I'll keep apologizing to you until you forgive me. But please tell me are you hurt anywhere else? Did that bastard do this to you?"

You sigh and peel his hands off your face, "Yes, he was swinging his knife at me so while tackling him, I got that wound. And I got some bruises but Minhee treated those, didn't want to worry her so hid this one. You should be worried about Minhee. I'm fine."

Mingyu looks at you with so much admiration. His heart swells within his chest when he thinks about how you saved his sister and handled the situation well while he was being a jerk to you.

"The first thing Minhee asked on calling me was how did I manage to marry someone as amazing as you. That I should have seen you, you were looking like a superhero fighting off the evil.", he smiles pinching the bridge of your nose.

You bite your lower lip, your brows crease and Mingyu instantly deflates noticing the obvious signs.

"Are you on your periods?", he asks concerned.

"The cramps are killing me."

"You should have told me sooner.", he immediately lifts you up and takes you to the guestroom and lays you on the bed, "I think I know what all things Minhee uses for her cramps and where they are kept. I'll be back."

"I was supposed to sleep with Minhee tonight.", you say frowning.

"No, you're sleeping with me", he smiles, crouching to peck your forehead, "Minhee rotates around the bed all night in sleep. Doesn't matter though, I won't be letting you out of my sight."

And while he spends the whole night making sure you get a good sleep, in the morning he makes you apply for sick leave. He scolds Minhee for not calling him sooner as it could have been dangerous for you both but in turn gets scolded by you.

He doesn't take his car, rather drives your car back home because you were scheming on sending him away first, not wanting to go with him. He sulks throughout the way back because when he leans in to you, in the guise of helping you putting on the seatbelt just to give a kiss, you slap a hand over his mouth. But that doesn't stop him from not letting you go to your office room the whole day and spend the time in taking rest.

It's an important day for you. It's a success party of the new game launch and playing the key role in leading back to back projects you're going to get felicitated at the party by the director herself.

You have informed Mingyu beforehand and he has promised to reach the venue before time, also squealing for days on about how he'd capture everything and show others, that how proud he is of his wife.

Your eyes boringly scan through the crowd, waiting for your husband.

"How am I looking?", Soonyoung's voice startles you.

As he takes a seat beside you, you tell him, "As usual. Are you supposed to not look like a human but something else?"

He scowls, "Wow, you're really doing this to me."

He brings over a glass of wine from the waiter who was passing and says, "I heard there have been some changes in the management and they'll be announcing it today."

You take a candy from the bowl kept on the table, "I'll be reporting to someone who has joined the company recently. My previous boss is gonna take over the strategy planning unit."

Soonyoung laughs, "There are rumours about him being eccentric."

"Let him be anything, I don't care as long as it doesn't hinder my work.", you tell him, eating the candy and checking your phone, "They're gonna start soon. Any idea when your dear friend is gonna arrive?"

"He was supposed to leave from work early", he tells you, "Don't worry he's punctual."

Mingyu curses when he checks the time. He's late.

"Min, I think you should leave as soon as possible.", Seokmin says as he helps him pack his bag, "You'll go home, get changed and then leave for the venue, right? You're running late by almost an hour already."

Mingyu is hot on his heels as he hurriedly takes his bag and rushes out of his cabin.

"Be careful!", Seokmin yells seeing Mingyu's fleeting demeanor, knowing how clumsy he can be and as he takes the keys to lock the cabin as requested by his friend his gaze falls on the USB drive which he knows Mingyu would need to work on some presentation.

Seokmin rushes to catch him so that he can give him the USB just in time. As he punches out his employee card, he sighs in relief as he recognises Mingyu standing still just outside the main door.

He pushes through the door and is just about to call him, something catches his eyes from the periphery of vision.

Just like Mingyu, Seokmin freezes on spot.

Because it is Sora who's standing in front of them.

Seokmin doesn't know what or if they had any conversation prior to his arrival but he grabs Mingyu's arm when he sees Sora open her car door and his friend heading in the se direction.

"Min, don't go.", he speaks the next part in louder tone, "your wife is waiting for you."

"I know what I'm doing, Min.", Mingyu frees his arm, "Trust me on this."

Seokmin watches helplessly as the car drives off to who knows where.

You are dejected. Even when recieving the award your eyes kept scanning the crowd just in hopes of seeing your husband's face. And still now doing so you keep on checking your phone, too upset to call or text him.

"I'll call him after they make the announcement.", Soonyoung says equally upset, "I'm sure something really urgent came up otherwise he'd have not missed it."

Everyone is asked to stand near the stage where they announce the key changes in management.

You are shocked when you hear a certain name being announced, see a certain figure taking the centre of the stage.

Xu Minghao is going to be your boss tomorrow onwards.

Minghao seems to have taken notice of you as his smile widens, his gaze locking on you.

Soonyoung has noticed the change in your demeanor, has followed the gaze of Minghao. He observes quietly before motioning you to come with him to a quieter place.

He then calls Mingyu putting his phone on speaker who doesn't pick up. There's an uneasy feeling settling at your chest and hope that your husband is fine wherever he is.

Soonyoung then calls Seokmin and regrets putting the phone on speaker because you hear what he says.

"Mingyu left with Sora and I can't reach him."

Your heart sinks because even though no one has ever talked to you about her, you know that name very well. Your husband's ex girlfriend whom he to marry.

"Trouble in paradise?"

Both you and Soonyoong turn to see Minghao standing, his gentle gaze bestowing upon you.

You decide to forget any other thoughts and wear a tight lipped smile, "Been a long time, Hao."

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Breakfast III

Ellie Carpenter x Daniëlle van de Donk x Child!Reader

Summary: The match against Arsenal

You don't know how you feel now that Beth is back.

You don't hate her. You don't think you can ever hate Beth. She used to do your bubble baths and read you stories with funny voices.

But...You don't want to see her. You don't want to have to play nice with her and be friendly.

You walk out with Ellie for the match and make sure not to wriggle away even when she teasingly flicks your ear. Usually, you walk out with Mamma but she's playing super sub today and Ellie scooped you up before you could scamper away.

Beth waves at you in the tunnel and you shrink away.

"You can just tell her to fuck off, pipsqueak," Ellie says as you walk out with her.

"Mamma says you swear like a sailor and not to listen to you," You reply and Ellie looks a bit hurt by that.

"She said that? Clearly, she's never heard herself. Talk about a potty mouth."

"Don't be mean to my Mamma!" You say back, glaring though there's very little anger in your tone.

"Right," Ellie says," Well I think little pipsqueaks who turn on their partners in crime should run back to their Mammas."

You huff. "Play good, Ellie," You say begrudgingly because Ellie's ruffling your hair.

"Of course I will," Ellie boasts," I'm amazing."

You dig your fingers into her side. "Humble, too." You run off to Mamma a moment before Ellie can retaliate.

You're all smiles as you approach before you make eye contact with Beth and it immediately drops when she gives you a special little wave she always used to.

You get the icky feeling in your stomach and rush to hide your face in Mamma's shirt.

She presses the back of your head into her, rubbing over your hair softly. "What's wrong?" She asks. Mamma isn't usually this serious with you. She's always more joking and soft. She's not a serious person.

"You've been out of it all day," She says," What's wrong? Huh?"

You glance out across the pitch as the match goes on. You pick out Ellie and Beth easily - Ellie dispossessing Beth and kicking the ball all the way up and away. You bite at your lip.

"Mamma," You say," If Beth is here...Do you still like her?"

Mamma looks a bit confused at you and she adjusts you on her lap. "Where's this coming from, huh? You can still be friends with Beth if-"

You shake your head, your bottom lip wobbling. "I don't want to be friends with Beth!" You cry out," I don't! I don't! I don't!"

Mamma looks alarmed at your sudden influx of emotions and she immediately reaches out for a blanket to cover you with. She cups your face.

"Okay," She says to you softly," You don't want to be friends with Beth. That's okay. Can you explain why though?"

You can't though and you huff out a big sigh and rest against Mamma's collarbone. You clamp your fist around her top. "No," You say," I just...It's different. We've got Ellie now." You stop for a moment just to suck in a ragged breath. "I don't need Beth like I used to. I'm sorry."

"Okay." Mamma's fingers run up and down the length of your spine. A kiss is pressed to your temple. "Thank you for telling me. You don't have to be friends with Beth, alright? You don't have to pretend that everything's okay with her when you feel differently. You never need to apologise for your feelings."

You sniffle. "Thank you, Mamma."

You're more settled after that, happy to turn in Mamma's arms and watch the match.

Arsenal puts up a good fight but no one is beating Lyon today. You happily clap your hands and stand on Mamma's lap to get the best view.

It's a few minutes before Mamma's meant to come on that everything goes to hell. She's already started warming up so you're sat between Ada and Lindsey, who are meant to be resting for the match.

You're leaning away from Lindsey's tickling hands when Beth comes streaking down your side of the pitch, right in front of the bench and tackles Ellie to the ground.

It's not exactly the cleanest of tackles and their legs get tangled with each other and you're on your feet as soon as you catch a glimpse of Ellie's pained face.

Mamma catches you quickly, intercepting you as she jogs back to the bench while you peel away from your babysitters. "Hey," She says softly," Hey, no. You can't interfere. You know the rules."

"Ellie!" You cry out, reaching for her as the medics swarm around her prone body," Ellie!"

Beth gets up with no injuries of her own and it makes your blood boil. It's completely unfair that she gets to just walk away while you and Mamma's Ellie are left hobbling off.

"Ellie!" You try to squirm out of Mamma's grip but it's like iron and she walks you over slowly.

"You're not worried about little old me, are you pipsqueak?" Ellie teases even as she winces.

Mamma leaves to get subbed on and you pad to Ellie's side.

"You're hurt," You say," Is it bad?"

"A week or so of rest," She says," But that's it. A nasty tumble, that's all."

You sniffle a lot and bite the inside of your cheek so you don't cry. "Are you sure? Promise?"

"Promise, pipsqueak," She says," I wouldn't lie to you."

You believe her and you harshly wipe away your tears to curl into her side.

You do it so naturally that Ellie's a little shocked. She knows, of course, that you tolerate her in your house, in your space, in your company. She knows that you're at least semi-happy about her relationship with Daan but this is a whole new ballpark.

She hadn't even considered that you would be so emotional about her getting injured. It's barely a scrape really and the week off is more so making sure it doesn't turn into something serious but you're treating it like she's broken her leg or something.

She holds you tight against her side as you sag into her grip, matching your breathing so both of your chests are rising and falling in sync.

You stay next to her for the rest of the match and you make sure to hold Ellie's hand nice and tight when you head onto the pitch to shake everyone's hands.

You shove your way in front of Ellie and cross your arms over your chest.

"Go away," You say to Beth as she approaches," Go away!" Your whole little body shakes with an unexplained emotion deep in your gut. "I won't let you hurt her!"

"I'm not going to hurt her," Beth tries to assure you and you can't settle," Why do you think I'm going to hurt her?"

You won't settle not with you and Mamma's Ellie standing behind you. You clench your hands into fists. You don't know why you want to cry. You shouldn't want to cry but you do.

"You shouldn't hurt people!" You say through the choked-up feeling in your throat," I won't let you!"

You're full-on crying now as you try to stay strong to protect Ellie.

Mamma notices though and breaks off her conversation with Viv to kneel in front of you. "What's wrong?" She asks," What happened?" She looks wildly between all of the adults then back to you.

"I won't let Beth hurt Ellie!" You say through heartbroken sobs," Not like me!"

"Not like you?" Mamma echoes," Oh, y/n, it's okay."

"What do you mean I hurt you?" Beth is wary in approaching you, just out of arms reach. "I'm sorry if I hurt you. Can you tell me when?"

You wipe your nose on Mamma's jersey and soak in the warmth of Ellie at your back.

"When-When me and Mamma left and I never saw you again..." You sniffle again and lay your head, exhausted, on Mamma's shoulder. "You can't come back and be friends with me. I'm not little anymore!"

A fresh wave of tears drop from your eyes as Beth inches a little closer.

"I'm sorry," She says softly," I'm very sorry I hurt your feelings. And I'm sorry I tried to pick up where we left off without thinking about how much bigger you've gotten. I'm very, very sorry."

"Go on," Ellie says softly in your ear, rubbing your back.

You look up at Beth over Mamma's shoulder. "I'm sorry for not using my grown-up words but not for my feelings because I should never have to apologise for my feelings."

Ellie snickers a little bit behind you but Beth offers her fist for you to bump your own against.

You do it cautiously and Beth smiles at you.

"I'll see you around, yeah?"

"Yeah."

[luveline]

Hey jade, I hope you had a good Christmas,

Love your writing so much it brings me so much serotonin 🤣🤣 I have a request for hotch if you’d be up to it, I just love this man’s patience and understanding and would love to see him interact with reader who struggles with sex? Or just sexual stuff in general, like maybe she feels really embarrassed about it and doesn’t know how to talk about it with him? Idk if this is something you’d be interested in just thought I’d throw it out there. Regardless, I can’t wait to see what you post next ♥️♥️♥️

hotch lends you some comfort when a certain topic flusters you, 1.1k

cw adult themes, mdni 

“It's almost cheaper to have kids.” 

You scoop your gaze from the deodorants. “What?” you ask, looking first to Hotch, and then to his eyeline. “Oh.” 

The grocery store boasts a few rows of contraceptives. Condoms, dental dams, and under that, lubes and stimulants in candy rainbow colours. Thirty one ninety nine for silicone-free, aloe vera flavoured lube. Twenty seven for o-gel. 

You avert your gaze without fact-checking him on the condoms, laughing awkwardly as your heart races. “Right.” 

“I'm kidding. Just feeding Jack is a surprising expense.” He says surprising like it's delightful. “Good thing we have cushy jobs.” 

Oh, he's feeling funny tonight. Your laugh is authentic as he takes your arm, the basket in his other clinking as he starts forward again. You finish your quick stock up and Hotch pays for your things despite your protests, packing you and the bags into his ‘cushy’ car. 

You're a little embarrassed in the passenger seat. Your relationship with Hotch is complicated in that while you're in the official early days, you pined for a long time. You're undoubtedly in love with him, and though he's your boss and your senior, he seems to have taken a similar liking to you, hence another chilled out date night upon his invitation. And you've you've messed around like teenagers with kisses too hot and hands wandering, but you haven't fucked, and it's a problem, because your usual awkwardness around the subject grows bigger the longer you wait. 

Hotch can wait forever if he wants, you're not trying to rush him. If he wanted to fuck you tonight you'd probably be too nervous anyhow. 

You can't talk about condoms. How are you going to cope when you have to use one? 

Your stomach churns the longer you think about it. Hotch doesn't react at first, but you know he's figured you out when he covers your hand atop your knee and gives it a squeeze. You okay?

“Can we turn on the radio?” you ask. 

His hand lifts away slowly. He turns on the radio, and you think, oh, he's mad. No, not mad. Irritated, maybe, or confused. That's not fair to him. You think it anyway, sick to your stomach as he parks in the parking garage under his building and you make your way up. 

He doesn't pull any punches —as soon as you're inside with your shoes off and the door locked, he puts the groceries on the counter and looks at you until you meet his eyes. 

“I'm sorry,” he says. 

“What for?” you ask, startled. 

“I made you uncomfortable. I didn't mean to imply anything before you're ready.” He's handsome like this, earnest, his eyebrows raised and an inviting palm held open on the counter beside him. “It was a poorly judged joke.” 

“No, no, I,” —you bring a hand to your mouth, cover it, uncover it— “don't mind if you want to joke about it. It would be weird to care, right?” 

He hears an insecurity in your tone you don't mean to reveal, and he pieces it together swiftly. Understanding lines his eyes. “I don't think so,” he murmurs. 

You're embarrassed beyond words, but he is your boyfriend. He asked with a little expensive bracelet and your favourite baked treat from the bakery near work. You'd only ever mentioned it once, but he remembered. He knows you well, and he's never given you reason to be afraid of his reactions. 

“It's just so embarrassing,” you mumble, staring down at your socks. 

“What is?” he asks, crossing the kitchen to take your hands. “You don't have to be embarrassed about anything, you're perfect.” 

Your breath catches, your neck cracking uncomfortably as you look up. “I– I don't know how to talk about it. I know it's childish.” 

“No, it's not. It's a big thing, and it comes naturally to some people, but not everyone.” His brow furrows a little, the warm depth of his voice working to unspool the tight panic you'd been clinging to, “I'd never push you to do something you're not ready for.” 

“I know that. It's not you. And I don't know if I'm ready or not, it's just–” Your face is hot enough to boil rain. You shake your head. It's too difficult to explain. 

Hotch ushers you into his solid chest. “It's okay,” he says, patting your back gently. “Don't worry about it.” 

“I want us to be like everyone else,” you confess. 

“We are. You're not the first woman to get nervous about the idea of intimacy, sweetheart, I promise. And I'm not the first man to make a bad joke about contraceptives.” He laughs as you laugh, two huffing chuckles as he presses his lips to the top of your head. “You can take as much time as you need to get used to the idea, and if it's still weird when you're ready, does it matter? We'll be weird about it together. Or we won't be. Okay?” 

“Yeah, okay… thank you, Aaron.” 

“I waited a long, long time for this,” he says, giving your back a pointed little squeeze. “And it's more than I ever thought I'd get. I'm not worried about the rest. I'm in no rush, and you shouldn't be either.” 

You hide your face in his chest for a while, somehow more embarrassed than when you'd started. He draws lines up and down your back with his palm patiently. “It's okay,” he says again, kissing the side of your face. After a moment, he encourages your head back with a hand on your cheek, checking your expression carefully before leaning in for a kiss. His hair tickles your forehead. 

To your relief, it doesn't make you nervous. He probably never could, not when he's touching you so softly. 

You're feeling a hundred times better when you pull away. A tad mortified still, but relieved to know your struggle with talking about it isn't a turn off. If he can stick with you through this bump in the road, you can try, at least, to overcome it. 

“Is lube really thirty two dollars?” you ask in a whisper. 

“I don't know. I've never needed it.” 

He spends the next ten minutes laughing and apologising sincerely as steam pours out of your ears. 

[monayen]

Hey!!! HI!!! YOUR FANFICS ARE SO GOOD AACK

Can we (the starved) please have a Nyen dating hcs?? The reader can also be Luther's pet hshshshshs I'm literally going insane godd I'm so sorry Nyen's just so... So fucking fine..

Dating headcannons ! | Nyen

➷ Paring - Nyen x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - degradation, sadism, biting/marking, blood kink, predator/prey kink, mentions of killing, hes bad at emotions okay

a/n - trying to figure out how i want to format hcs so ignore that this looks different than the luther dating hcs. please. anyhoots whos dating hcs should i start doing next >.>

Hates you a little (probably)

Not in the “wants make you suffer and kill you” type of way he usually hates, but rather the “why do you make me feel this way?” type

How you make his cheeks redden and his palms sweaty, sharp nails digging into his own skin in overwhelming nervousness. It makes him feel weird, no matter how hard he tries to hide it

To care for someone other than his master, especially just a weak, pathetic pet like you… Nyen thinks in turn it makes him weak and pathetic

Knows loyalty from Luther. Knows satisfaction and pleasure from killing. But genuine love? It made him want to tear his heart out just to stop it from beating so fast when he sees you

The romance manga Randal gifted him hadn’t prepared him at all. He's reread them and reread them in an attempt to understand how he should feel but he still needed time to wrap his head around the reality of being in a relationship

Did feel like he needed permission from his master to be with you. Thankfully, Luther was happy (how cute!) as long as it didn't affect his pet duties. Nyen doesn't know what he would've done if Luther said no.

Doesn't like terms like boyfriend/girlfriend/partner, you're just his.

Calls you baby or sweetheart. Some pet names you’d hear a trashy construction worker catcall a woman down the street with. His gruff voice doesn't help

Doesn't really care what you call him as long as it isn't sickly sweet… does have the smallest thing for being called sir… but only in private!

He most likely wouldn't act much like a good boyfriend in front of people. Sorry, his own pride is just too high to look all lovey-dovey in front of others

Basically the embodiment of “he's just bullying you because he likes you!” you’d get from an adult when a boy would torment you in school. Except he actually does like you. Weirdo Nyen’s more comfortable when it’s just you, which means he doesn't feel the need to be brooding and scary in private

Loves to lay on your lap and have his head pet while he reads or watches television like the catman he is. Eventually falls asleep after some time so don't dare move.

Schedule tends to be the same, he's not all about change. His day consists of doing what Luther tells him, working out, and watching out for pests or danger

Still about the same since you guys have been together, but he tries include you in his day as much as possible

It can be nice, like him wanting you to watch him workout. Making sure to show off his abs and biceps… acts like he doesn't do it on purpose for you to oogle at

Nonchalantly boasts about how he can pick you up with ease, no matter what you weigh

Has in fact proved it multiple times by carrying you around place to place

Wouldn't mind you exercising with him– but be careful. He's a harsh trainer, can and will push you until you're a sweaty, exhausted mess. Kinda turns him on…

Other times, he’ll drag you into more dangerous or scary situations just so he can protect you

You're his perfect damsel in distress, someone to run into his arms and hold closely

Actually wouldn’t let you be in real danger. But if he knows he can handle it, (which he can) he’s not opposed to your praise about how he’s saved you

On the opposite end, Nyen also enjoys playing hunting and chasing games with you. There are times when he has taken you to a nearby forest, releasing your hand where the evergreens are the thickest, and in his low voice, he says, “Run.”

He loves to focus on the scurry of leaves crunching beneath your feet, the sight of your figure trying to keep up ahead of him, and the sound of your rapid breathing as he gets closer and closer

Nyen pounces and catches you every single time, dark pupils dilated with pure adrenaline as he constrains you. Hours will pass before you’re home again

There's not many date-like activities Nyen is interested in doing. Nyen doesn’t care to plan them, you live together anyways!

But if you insist, a picnic is the go-to. Simple, outside of the house, and he gets to have as much beer and undercooked chicken as you can stuff into a basket

Can also take you out on late night drives. Speeding down long, tree lined roads as CD music blasts with a hand resting on your thigh. (Nice!)

Does go out of his way to hit any animal(man?) unfortunate enough to be on the road. If he manages, he’ll pull over and make you look at the mangled body with him (Not so nice.)

Lots of territorial behavior. Nyen loves to share his extra clothes or his cigs (if you smoke) so you’re smelling like him. It just connects you two together, without having to say a word

Speaking of territorial… marks a lot. Biting, scratching, hickies. Even bruises if he's extra rough

He doesn't let you hide them. Would probably explode if he caught you trying to cover them with makeup or clothes and end up punishing you by marking even more

Libido is very high. Didn't actually get much action before being with you, mostly jerking off after a successful kill

But with you? Practically at any chance, he will

Doesn't care if you haven't showered, shaved, or prepped in any way. Will always find you incredibly attractive and irresistible

Even if you have periods, he’ll still pin you against the wall and rub his cock against you. The blood turns him on baby!

Has a fantasy of you being covered in the blood of one of his victims while he fucks you. Maybe less of fantasy and more of a goal. One day…

Treats it like a game, pulling and teasing you beforehand. Nails dug into your hips, a low voice in your ear whispering about how you’ve been teasing him “like the slut you are”

Drags you away from whatever you're doing. Not sneaky or polite when he pins you against the closest surface available, the only gentleness being the steady growl of his voice. Nothing possibly can't be as important as the need to stuff his aching cock inside what's his

Has fucked you in every room besides his Master’s and Randal’s. Would just be too weird…

A sadist (duh), but cares about you feeling good too. Won't hurt you too bad, though his definition of what is too bad might be different from yours. He wants you alive and mostly conscious

Made an effort to learn proper aftercare and to be less selfish, as he never felt the need to before

Still uses too much teeth when giving head and offers you a lukewarm bottle of water after sex… but it's the thought that counts!

Has a bunk with Nyon and still makes you sleep with him. Problem tends to be that it's wayyyy too tiny for both of you. You’ve complained to him to ask Luther for a bigger and separate bed but he gruffly responded for you to shut up and let him spoon in peace

Kicks Nyon out of the room a lot so it could just be the two of you. It's almost childish, bitching and hissing if Nyon doesn't give up his space. Poor guy, he just wants to lay in bed and smoke :/

Bit of a night owl, doesn't actually need to sleep much yet he still likes to. but does so very late. You’ll only know he's in bed when he snores against your neck

Always awake first, he's got more important things to do than lay around in bed with you (as he claims)

Will come back a bit later and wake you up with a cup of the most bitter black coffee in a cheesy matching mug. Just as an apology for the scratch and bite marks leading between your thighs he gave you last night. Drink it all, it's rude if you don't :(

[riewritten]

so i went to a remote area this weekend for a field work and i cant help but imagine erwin during the ride... like in an interview he said that if given the chance, he would like to live in a remote cabin, right?

LIVING IN THE CABINS OF TROST

ERWIN SMITH X GENDER NEUTRAL READER

TAGS: post-canon, erwin lives agenda, fluff, age-gap (lol rie tell us what we don't know!), love confessions, basically jus wholesome stuff

WORDS: 2k

Trost District’s advanced practice had saved their economy from titan invasion years ago, but sadly not every district in Paradis would like to apply it in consideration to the nobilities. In principle, you’d like to have it implemented in the rest of the island whose pride has long belonged in its rich agricultural resources. To know the bounties of Trost to the fullest, you’ll have to live with them for a month!

Lo and behold, you’ll come across the Erwin Smith as one of the residents. You see, he doesn’t talk much to people, let alone from outsiders, but the villagers love him because of his kindness and intelligence; they’re confident that if there’s someone who could help you the most, it’ll be no other than this man. And, strangely so, Erwin welcomed you with open arms the moment he knew of your research.

He doesn’t want the residents to treat you as an inconvenience so as soon as he learns your university isn’t funding student researchers—which makes you lack the resources to rent a dorm in Trost—he gladly opens the spare room he had built inside his cabin at your disposal.

However, amidst the neat and swift arrangement, you can’t help but be bothered because not only is he so kind for reasons you’re yet to unveil, but you are to live with him! A very handsome middle-aged man who is unreasonably single, especially in a period where people as young as sixteen are already bearing children!

Maybe the sheer change the Paradis had become since the walls collapsed has something to do with it?

However, it isn’t long until you’ve learned that he is none but the very commander who had contributed the most for the freedom of Paradis. He suddenly blurts out over breakfast that he was the 13th Commander back in his prime. The 13th commander of the Scout Regiment. You took history classes really well so you know what the 13th commander has done; it’s just that you never remembered his name because as far as you are concerned, the former commander opted not to publish his name in books and told the historians to ensure every contribution of his comrades would be noted instead. Your teachers spoke of him so highly–indeed, an amalgamation of what a real leader must be. 

The way you started shaking over the coffee and bread Erwin had prepared made him panic, “Oh no, was the coffee too strong for your liking? I'm so sorry.”

And when you eventually cry and utter praises and gratitude for serving the country well, he starts laughing—boisterously so. That was sure a laugh he had never done during his prime. 

He then pats your head, “Well, our efforts have never gone to waste because of smart students like you, no?”

To integrate more with the Trost community, Erwin fetches you to other neighbors using his old car every morning (he bought it for a discounted price at an auction—scratch that, the merchant almost gave it to him because he was a huge fan. Had Erwin been a boastful bastard, he wouldn’t even bother paying for it). He says the ride to another farm takes around half an hour, so you two take your time talking about a lot of things. He turns gloomy whenever the topic of being a commander is talked upon, so you’re always sure to stay with the menial—his favorite areas on his lawn, the things he’d like to do in the future to make his little paradise even better to live in, and more. 

Oh, how badly you yearn for a life like his.

And when late afternoon comes, Erwin would pick you up from the neighborhood so you can accompany him to the wet market approximately an hour away. Erwin usually takes this chance to talk to the merchants because he supplies them his harvest at a low price for extra income (what a strategic and simple man he is!) then you two would restock condiments and other needs in the house that his small farm couldn’t provide. The life Erwin has is surely tiring for you who’s basically raised in a highly urbanized area, but that doesn’t mean you don’t enjoy it especially with his company.

One of the best things he has ever shown you is the tiny river surrounded by giant trees where he takes a bath. The scenery makes you feel like some sort of deity in an urban legend; sun would peak behind the leaves and onto the water, then the water would bounce back its light towards your glimmering eyes—full of adoration at god’s creation. The river is quite cold and sometimes the breeze these trees exude freezes your skin, yet it feels so fresh, so pleasing to look at, and you wouldn’t mind if you’re not accustomed to taking a bath in an open area. No reason to be scared, too, as the singing birds and cicadas keep you company. Not far from here, you could also hear Erwin’s daily wood chopping. Of course, he’s just there, ready to rescue you if you slip on the rocks or some intruder tries to come at you.

One of the best tasks he had entrusted you with (which you asserted to be tasked because you couldn’t fathom not paying him rent) is plucking ripe fruits from his farm. In your hometown, every need comes with money, but here, one could survive with just the gifts of land ripened by their hard work.

“It makes your research more valuable, doesn’t it?” Erwin affirms. “Imagine every citizen in Paradis being able to live a life not based on money once the government appreciates agrarian reforms more, given how rich our country is with natural resources.”

The distance you had with him as he intricately teaches you how to cut fruit from its stem, his appreciation for your principles (which students from the urban area often laugh about), and the way his hands brush against yours while he’s correcting your posture because the way of cutting needs to be precise so the stem could still be capable of bearing another fruit—it all fills your heart with sheer warmth. When night comes and you’re alone in your room, you finally deduce what you feel for him—it’s not just mentorship that you want, or his kindness, or even his farm.

You want him as he is. You want to give back all the help he has given you by loving him with all your heart.

As the research is about to end, you realize that you soon will be bidding him farewell to go back to your hometown, to live a boring university life, to take a bath in the constricted bathroom of your dormitory, and to worry about filling money up your sleeves so you could eat instead of just plucking out leaves and straight up cooking it. It fills your heart with sorrow; you hope you can just stay with him.

On one of your final days in Erwin’s house, you wake up with rain so strong tip taps of water can be heard from the roof towards the wooden floor. Erwin knocks and asks if he could fix it as you eat breakfast but as soon as you open the door for him, you start crying.

“I'm sorry, it happens a lot during rainy days. I should've warned you.” Perhaps he’s thinking that an urban girl like you would deem living in this wooden cabin overwhelming, but it’s rather far from it. “I’m thinking of replacing the roof with cement instead of mere iron strips, but I can only do that when summer comes. you might not be here anymore by that time, though.”

“Can I just live here for good? I don’t want to go,” you wail, the attachment and adoration you have for this new friend flowing through your tears. “I want to live here for good!”

“Because you want to witness the renovation of my roof…?”

“No!”

Erwin is surprised at your sudden rise in tone, but eventually he smiles—he smiles despite not understanding it all, “I’ll consider, but only after you let me fix the hole in your room.”

It took you five minutes of wailing (and Erwin’s gentle taps on your shoulder) before you stepped away from the door and let him in, with which he whispered a small praise, “Good girl. Now come on, eat your breakfast and drink your coffee. We’ll talk after I'm done here.”

His voice sounded so warm, deep, and gentle in that particular remark.

You manage to do what he asked of you, albeit with little hiccups. To be honest, had Erwin lacked the academic knowledge to help you finish your research, your stay in his home would’ve lasted longer. but he’s such a smart man—even on par with your actual research professor—that it even makes you wonder if his parents were formerly part of the academy, too.

When Erwin learns of that fact, he laughs in guilt, “I'm sorry! I admit I got too caught up with your research. You should’ve shooed me away when I got too invasive! Is that why you were crying?”

“No! It’s because I want to stay with you longer!” you cry, albeit impulsively, because you are drenched in cold water as soon as you see Erwin’s surprised face.

Nonetheless, he’s able to compose himself, “Seems like you loved living in Trost, hm? It’s okay, you could visit us here even after your research is—”

“I meant you! I want to stay with you specifically!” 

Oh god, did bathing in the river give you a bravado as strong as Erwin’s? You’re not usually this blunt.

“Why, if it’s fine to ask?” Erwin starts, his face more serious this time around, albeit there’s a tinge of expression you couldn’t quite decipher.

You wouldn’t be able to take this back. You wouldn’t be able to take this back. You wouldn’t be able to take this ba— “Because I like you!”

You wouldn’t be able to take that back!

“Oh god,” you covered your face in embarrassment. “I-I’ll be back! I’m sorry!” then you stand up from your seat and hurry towards the door.

You run to the secluded river to wash your face from embarrassment (or perhaps drown in it for good), but after a throaty scream of shame, you notice a presence behind you.

“E-Erwin!” you screech in surprise. “I told you I’ll be back soon!”

“Repeat what you just said.”

“The what?”

“What you said before running off. Repeat it.” 

“Are you angry?” you weakly mutter.

“What? No! I mean—” the unusual stuttering made Erwin chuckle in defeat. “Please, I just want to hear it again.” 

His soft eyes on the ground, one you couldn’t quite decipher earlier, is much more understandable now. It gave you more courage to admit more, “I said I like you.”

“As a host or…?”

The question almost ruins the mood, and yet you think that’s the most adorable Erwin has been since you’ve known him. All this time you thought of him as someone who knew everything astutely.

“What do you mean ‘as a host?’ I know we have a bit of a generational gap but I’m certain what I said was clear enough!”

He walks closer until you’re centimeters apart, eventually he smiles in realization. Then he cups your cheeks and says, “Finish your research and come back here. you’ll hear my answer by then.”

“Huh?” you scorn, “Why don’t you answer now while I’m still—”

A kiss on your forehead cuts you off. It lasts for ten seconds or so—you know because you started counting it out of fluster. While on it, he rubs his thumb on your cheeks in circular motions. The sensations render you in a haze. As soon as he withdraws, you bury your head on his chest, taking his scent in even though you don’t understand what’s happening.

“What I could offer to you is nothing in comparison to the life ahead of you in Stohess. Do what you must there—submit your research, advocate for your principles until your voice reaches more people, and if by then you still can’t stop thinking of me, by all means, stay by my side for good.”

“How can I be sure that you’re not married the moment I come back?!”

He chuckles, then places your hand on his chest. His forehead bumps on yours, a knowing smile plastered on his lips, and his eyes reeking of adoration. “Because my heart has been yours the moment you set your foot here.”

p lease i encourage everyone to continue this fic for me because as much as i love the prompt i donT HAVE THE TIME TO TURN IT INTO AN ACTUAL THING 😭😭😭 PLEASEDKDKSED

also here's a majestic fan art of idrawr16yt that helped me visualize what a retired-commander-living-in-the-countryside erwin smith would look like

🔖 @xiaotopia @cadenza-damour @rinamars @grimistheangerinmystares @suntizme @onasvigo @inkofteyvat @aeanya @watyousayin @collinnmckinley @frenchdyer | SUBSCRIBE/UNSUBSCRIBE TO MY STORIES

[lvrgirlrey]

Hii!!!

Can I request a Ranpo x reader where you and Ranpo got into a petty argument and refused to talk to each other for a week and the reader don't really mind not talking with Ranpo for a whole week but that doesn't mean Ranpo does, he clung to you after a few days? And whining that the reader isn't paying attention to him

I'm so sorry if this is way too specific and thank you!!!

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣’𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: hello!!! i love this its so cute *v* ofc i can do that

𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: none

you and ranpo were known to have your moments. you two had bickered before, but this one was different. it wasn’t even that serious. just a small disagreement over something trivial—maybe it was about a case, or even about snacks, but somehow, it blew up. one word led to another, and before you knew it, you both decided to stop talking to each other. it wasn’t like either of you was really angry. it was more about pride at this point. no one wanted to be the first to give in.

you didn’t mind it much, honestly. a week without ranpo hovering around you? you could use the break. sure, he was a genius detective, but he could be a handful sometimes. so, when the days passed without him trying to talk to you, you thought it was a win. it wasn’t like you needed to be around him every second of the day.

the first couple of days were quiet. you went about your routine, working on cases, grabbing lunch, heading home. you noticed ranpo hanging around, always in the corner of your eye, but he didn’t say anything. sometimes, you caught him staring, but when you turned to look, he’d quickly avert his gaze and go back to whatever he was doing. you shrugged it off. if he wanted to stay mad, that was on him.

by the third day, things started getting… strange. ranpo wasn’t being his usual self. he was quieter, not as loud and boastful as usual. he still solved cases like they were nothing, of course, but there was something off. normally, he would have bragged about it to you, rubbing it in your face how quickly he figured things out. but now? nothing. just silence.

you were fine with it, really. it wasn’t like you missed the constant chatter. or the way he always found some way to make everything about him. no, you were doing just fine without all of that. totally fine.

on the fourth day, ranpo started hovering. not in a confrontational way, more like… he was just there. if you were at your desk, he’d find some excuse to walk by, glancing over like he was waiting for something. during lunch, he sat at the table next to yours, not talking but always looking like he wanted to say something. it was starting to get on your nerves, but you weren’t going to be the one to break first. not after the argument. you had your pride, too.

by the fifth day, the hovering turned into light tugging. ranpo would gently pull at your sleeve whenever he walked by, his lips pressed into a pout. at one point, he even stood in front of you, waving a piece of candy like it was some sort of peace offering. when you didn’t take it, he looked like a kicked puppy, but you stayed firm. it was just a week. he could handle it. you could handle it.

on the sixth day, ranpo’s patience finally broke. you were sitting at your desk, going through some files, when suddenly, there he was. ranpo leaned over your shoulder, pressing his chin on top of your head. “you’re ignoring me,” he mumbled, his voice full of whine. you didn’t look up from your work. “i thought we weren’t talking.”

“i changed my mind,” he said, dragging out the last word. he flopped into the chair next to yours, arms crossing over his chest. “you’re being so mean. it’s been forever!”

“it’s been six days, ranpo.”

“exactly! six whole days of no one telling me how amazing i am!” he puffed his cheeks, scooting his chair closer to yours. “i thought you’d crack first, but you’re just… ignoring me. how can you be okay with this?”

you shrugged, still not looking at him. “i’m not the one who needs attention every second.”

he groaned dramatically, throwing himself halfway across your desk, his hand brushing against your papers. “come onnnn. i’m sorry, okay? i didn’t mean to argue with you. let’s just go back to how things were.”

you raised an eyebrow, glancing at him. “you don’t even remember what we were arguing about, do you?”

he blinked a few times, tilting his head in thought. then, with a small, embarrassed grin, he admitted, “nope.”

you sighed, pushing him off your desk and standing up. “fine. i guess we can stop this. but you need to stop being so dramatic about everything.”

he grinned wide, like a child who had just won a game. “so does that mean we’re talking again? you’ll finally pay attention to me?”

“if you stop being annoying, maybe,” you teased, grabbing your coat. “but no promises.”

ranpo jumped up from his chair, practically bouncing around you as you headed for the door. “i knew you missed me. you can’t go that long without me.”

“i think i could handle a little more than a week, honestly.”

“no way,” he said, shaking his head. “you’d be lost without me.”

you rolled your eyes, but there was a small smile on your face. no matter how much ranpo got on your nerves, you had to admit—it was a little too quiet without him around. as much as you hated to admit it, things were always a bit more interesting when he was by your side.

“fine,” you said, holding the door open for him. “let’s go grab something to eat. i’m starving.”

“finally, you’re making sense!” ranpo grinned, practically skipping out the door. “i knew you couldn’t resist me forever.”

you laughed softly as you followed him. maybe it wasn’t so bad, having ranpo around after all.

[redr0sewrites]

If it wouldn’t be too much to ask can we get an angst Adam x reader?

Where reader is a winner waiting in heaven for Adam to return from extermination only for him to never show and being told by Emily or lute directly he died.

Please and thank you!

NONNIE WHY WOULD U DO THIS TO MEEEEEEEE <\\3

🥀Pt 2 HERE

🥀Cw: major character death, angst

the soft tapping of your foot against the marble floors echoed rhythmically throughout your shared home. shared with your lover of course, who had just flown off to this year's extermination. pacing up and down the kitchen floor, worries were seeping into your mind. despite your lover's reassurance, you still had the nagging feeling that something was amiss. you knew that Adam would be up against some of hells greatest powers, and while he had confidently assured you that the battle would be easy, you were still uncertain.

"dont worry toots, i'll be fiiiiine. i always am, eh? i'm THE Adam, i fucking rock! trust me babe, this fight will be over in minutes~" your lover leaned in to kiss your cheek before donning his helmet and taking off into the sky. as you watched him fly away, you tried to calm the worries soaring in your chest. Adam was right, he would be fine. he always was... right?

you replayed the scene in your mind again and again, trying to force yourself to remain calm. everything would be fine, Adam would come home and tackle you in a hug, then demand that you listen to him rant for the next few hours about each of his kills. suddenly, the rustle of wings and a loud thump outside of your door caught your attention. you ran towards your front door, excitement filling your body as relief curled into your soul. he was fine, of course he was fine! you tore open the door, expecting your lover's bright eyes and boastful expression to greet you. but it wasn't Adam at the door. it was Lute, looking bedraggled and worse for wear.

"Lute? what the fuck happened to your arm?!" you exclaim, motioning for her to come inside. Lute just shakes her head, a miserable look on her usually stern face. "Lute... where is Adam?" you try to remain calm as she just stares at you, pain and pity in her gaze. "he... in the battle, there were some... complications. Adam didn't make it," she whispered, handing you a bloody halo. ice cold shock flooded through you, soon melting into a burning pain coiled in your chest. you felt as though your insides were trying to break free, and you took the halo from her with shaky hands.

"where... where is his body," you whisper, voice low and sharp. Lute turned, refusing to even look at you. "we lost it, we had to retreat quickly and didn't have time to retrieve it..." your heart broke at her remorseful tone, and tears began to stream down your face. "i'm sorry y/n. there was nothing i could do-" you raised a hand to shush her, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself. your lovers cold halo was still heavy in your hand, just like the heavy ache in your heart.

"its not your fault, Lute. i just- i need some alone time to process- i don't know." you sigh, defeated and exhausted. "i think we all do," she whispered, looking at you again. then, Lute nodded understandingly, and flew off without another word. for a second you stood there, looking out at the beautiful skies of heaven. people always claimed that there were never bad days in heaven, but you felt as though your very soul was splitting in half. pain and remorse and anger seemed to be filling the empty pit in your heart, the fresh wound of Adam's loss already stung enough. you slam your door shut, throwing the halo across the ground and collapsing into your shared bed- now just yours. there was nothing you could do, and tears overcame you as the sound of sobbing echoed throughout your lonely home.

AUGHHHHHJH this hurts. i might make a pt2 where adam returns as a sinner and reunites with reader (only if yall want ofc) bc i HATe unhappy endings 😭

[apricityxoxo]

Help and Care.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ this is a sneak peek!!! ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

✧.* Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem! Reader

✧.* wc 1,156

✧.* summary: he definitely didn't need help, he doesn't need someone to care for him. no one has ever helped him before, and no one ever cared so why would they start now. he doesn't care, he definitely doesn't need help. so why does he keep ending up in the infirmary with the beautiful nurse?

contents: fluff and a bit of angst

sorry y'all, I had to finish up my winter classes but I'm back. (don't be mad at me it's black history month.) here's something new that I'm working on and don't worry part three of uncertainty is coming soon. I'm going to make a masterlist and a schedule lol. hope y'all enjoy this and lmk what y'all want to see soon.

enjoyy

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Help. He hates help. He can’t stand it. When others look at him, when he looks at himself, he doesn’t see himself as someone dependent on others. Why else would he enlist, he didn’t need help, he learned that the hard way. No one ever helped him and he adjusted, so why would he need help now. People are dependent on him; they rely on him. When someone is injured, scared, or dead it’s up to him to fix the situation, to solve the problems of others, to carry the fallen.

When Price told him to go to the nurse he was upset, actually, he was pissed. He was not a child who scraped his knee playing football at school. He was a soldier; he was more than a mere man. He knew how to endure, he knew how to carry his weight, and he knew that he didn’t need to see the nurse. He knew what was wrong with him, he just bruised his ribs. He didn’t need some old woman with a bad attitude to tell him what he already knew.

He endured and he resisted the pain for exactly two weeks, but the pain was only getting worse. He was confused and didn’t know what to do, he hoped that no one had noticed and he didn’t want people to start. He didn’t want questions or concerns, he wanted relief and nothing more.

He thought no one would notice and he was so wrong.

Training.

Simon hated training the new recruits, they were cocky and they didn’t know their place. They thought after joining and passing the initial physical exams, they were done.

They were most definitely not done. They needed to adjust, physically and mentally, to fit in. Many people think the initial physical and mental exams are where new recruits break, no they break here, during training…with him. He hated it but, he knew why Price asked him to do it.

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Price usually did rounds during training, he watched the recruits and the techniques of the other task forces. The smell of sweat, dirt, and blood filled his system and that smell drew his attention to Ghost. Today he felt the need to check on Ghost, see how he was doing. Ghost was a good teacher even though he didn’t realize this, Price did though.

Ghost was mean, harsh, and disciplined, and the people he taught tended to not last long, however the ones who do, they turn out to be great because the one thing that ghost teaches best is endurance.

When Price was watching him train, he started to get upset and he was confused. This was most definitely not the big and bad Ghost he was used to. He thought at first that "maybe Ghost was pulling his punches?" When he paired Ghost up to train some of the rookies, he thought maybe Simon was finally going soft.

Usually after training, the rookies would be sore, and in pain, sometimes they might even need to be excused to nurse. However, these past few weeks the rookies have been surprisingly...fine. Maybe even better than fine and it's been making them cocky, it's boosted some of their egos.

It would probably boost his ego too, Price chuckled. If he were to beat the big, brutal, and scary Ghost while still a rookie. However, they are starting to get obnoxious because they are taunting and boasting, which is certainly something that Price could not have. It was starting to piss him off. Price was going to tell Ghost that if he didn’t put these pricks in line, there were going to be consequences.

That was the plan, but then he took a closer look and that’s when he saw it.

He saw the way that Ghost taking more hits than normal, he was slow to react and he was even slower to respond. His stance was off as well, usually his form made him feel like a giant among men but now he looked like he was shrinking himself, like it was his first day of training. Ghost wasn’t pulling his punches, he wasn't holding back, he was weak.

Now he was pissed.

Price knew.

Price knew exactly why Ghost wasn’t as strong as he usually is, why his punches aren’t as powerful as they normally are. Ghost was a disobedient bastard and Price was pissed.

“STOP! That’s enough training for today, soldiers.”

“Ghost, come now!”

“Yes, Captain” Ghost replied in his thick Manchester accent.

“The hell is wrong with you Lieutenant!”

“Nothin' Capt’n, I'm just-”

“You’re just hurt, did you go to the nurse?” Price knew the answer.

“I didn’t feel the need to go to the medical facility Capt’n”

“You didn’t feel the need to go?” Price asked Simon and looked at him like he was crazy. Since when did his soldiers feel the need for an opinion?

“If you don’t get your ass to the medical facility right now, you’re going to be training these pricks for three months straight. You understand?”

“Yessir!”

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Unbelievable!

He doesn’t need to be here. He feels everyone’s eyes on him as he walks to the nurse’s office. He’s rarely ever here and because of that it draws the eye, lots of them. He thanked his balaclava every day because without it, based on the face he was making, some might think he was actually nervous.

He doesn’t want some old hag telling him what to do and degrading him for not coming sooner. Some old nurse or doctor telling him everything he already knows just to insult him and show off their vast vocabulary just to try and make him feel small. that’s what they all do, that’s what his father did.

Before he goes and knocks on the door, he dries his palms on his pants, desperately hoping to get over this.

Knock-knock.

Some time passed but then he heard a soft voice say…

“Come on in”

He opened the door and he was surprised that the soft voice matched a beautifully soft face. A face with beautifully unique features that worked together in harmony to make the beautiful woman that sat before him.

God damn.

Those were the only words on his mind.

It wasn’t an old woman who looked like she had a chip on her shoulder and carried a deep grudge, nor someone who looked like they were going to insult him… no. definitely not.

It was a young woman.

A beautiful young woman.

A beautiful young woman with the most inviting features. Absolutely gorgeous, he’s never seen a woman this beautiful ever on this base. He feels like she doesn’t belong here, her face is an exact contrast to the environment he surrounds himself every day. He has a million questions he wants to ask her, he feels the strong urge to get closer to her. He’s such a creep. He doesn’t even know her name.

He feels his mouth goes dry and his hands sweat. Gross. He hasn’t felt this way since Secondary School, he feels like a dork and he doesn’t know what is wrong with him.

“Good afternoon, how can I help you!” Her voice was cheery and if he was a little bit more nervous, he wouldn’t notice the shock on her face and the tremble in her voice. He was used to that reaction; it was probably due to his appearance. her voice matched her face and he felt his heart beat faster, he finally was going to die.

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the whole story is coming soooon, pls let me know what yall think

i wrote this while listening to creep by radiohead lol

full story

[icarustypicalfall]

Sweet Cherry Wine

Phillip Graves x fem!reader

summary: I'll crawl home to you, and if you dare to push me away, I'll break into ashes, thus my dust will fill your every space.

★ comfort (reversed) fluff/angsty/married couple/ legal age gap

notes: a sweet treat for my stars, so sorry for being away, I don't know when I'll come back, it feels too good to be here, and I don't want to leave. Ilysm for everything you had done to me, your support for the last 5 months had been incredible. I never thought I'd start this journey and honestly, it's all amazing. ty <3

★

The way she tells me I'm hers and she is mine

Your husband was unusually quiet tonight. Despite being a proud man who usually took every opportunity to boast about you and his company, he remained silent throughout the evening. His arm rested gently on your waist as he absentmindedly followed the conversation. At first, you assumed he was just being protective, but there was something else on his mind.

You caught him stealing glances at your two friends dancing together on the dance floor. Sipping your drink, you couldn't help but wonder what was bothering him. He had refused to dance, citing an aching back from work. You absentmindedly traced the scar on his cheek, but he gently brushed your hand, placing it back on the table, as if he didn't want to be touched or engaged with. Finally, you understood and let go of him. Philip coughed nervously, fidgeting with his hands before deciding to step outside for a smoke. You nodded, deciding to join your friends on the dance floor. His behavior occupied your mind, but you resolved to ask him later what was wrong.

★

You slipped off your heels and fell onto the bed with a contented sigh. Philip sat on the edge, almost slumping to the ground. It was then that you noticed the furrowed brow that he wore. He was never one to easily show vulnerability or ask for help. You couldn't blame him, considering all that he had been through.

You moved closer to him, and he turned his head, avoiding your gaze. Your hand gently rested on his back, feeling the warmth of his skin radiating beneath your cold fingers. He hesitated for a moment before leaning into your touch. You sighed.

"What's wrong, Phil? Something bothering you?"

He remained silent for several moments, but then a sob escaped his lips as his body subtly shook. He turned away, hiding his face completely from you. His blond hair fell messily onto his forehead as he whispered between his hands with a broken tone, "Why me? Why did you choose me?"

You furrowed your brow, and he repeated himself, this time with a melancholic tone that couldn't be mistaken.

"I'm an old dog, nothing more than a war machine. Why me, darling? You could have had any other man— young, handsome. Yet you chose me," he confessed, gripping your hand tightly. His voice was quiet, but his words resonated louder than any shout.

"No, that's not true. I chose you because..."

He shook his head, unwilling to listen to anything. He interrupted, looking at you with a frown. "You know that I'm too old for you, right? I've got a face full of wrinkles, my hair is turning grey..." He turned away, releasing your hand and standing up. "Why can't you find yourself a younger man? Someone who can still dance with you at parties? Someone who can make you happy?"

You protested, standing up and facing him. "You make me happy."

He shook his head, looking at you once again. Affection was always present in his gaze, but fear had blinded him.

"Somebody who... somebody who won't die and leave you a widow," he said, looking into your eyes. The once bright blue of his eyes now reflected a somber shade, like a raging arctic in the midst of a storm of doubts.

"You know the end, we all die sooner or later. Why think about it now?"

"B-because you deserve better than me," he stammered.

"I love you," you said firmly.

His head snapped back, familiar with those words that were repeated daily, from dawn till dusk. But in this moment, they held more significance than ever.

"I love you. Nothing else matters to me. Why would I want another man when I have you?"

His cheeks flushed slightly, and he coughed, a weight being lifted off his shoulders.

"What about when I'm 60 and can't get out of bed without groaning?" he asked, a small smile playing on his lips. You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, a smile mirroring one from long ago.

"When you can hardly walk and your hair is falling out, I'll still feel the same about you," you reassured, squeezing his hand and smiling.

He looked at you in disbelief. "You'd do that for me? Even if I became a miserable old coot who wakes up every morning with joints that creak louder than an engine?"

You nodded. "When you reach 60, that'll still be 20 years from now. Until then, we can live without worrying about it. It doesn't matter what you become; it's about the life we've had together. No one cares about later. Let's enjoy what we have, Phil."

"God, I feel like I'm talking to a poet or something," he chuckled.

His hand gently cupped yours, his thumb tracing over the scar on his cheek. "What about my s-," he began, but you interrupted him with a tender kiss on his cheek. The warmth of your lips left a burning sensation on his skin, igniting a fire within him.

"I adore it, I adore every scar you have, everything about you," you assured him, your words carrying a depth of love and acceptance.

Tears welled up in his eyes once again, and you brushed them away with your thumb, kissing away the single tear that escaped. The weight of judgment and self-doubt he had been carrying seemed heavier than any burden he had faced before.

A wide grin spread across his face, and he lifted you up, spinning you around in joy. "Something about you makes me so happy, darling... your words are like witchcraft!" he exclaimed, his laughter filling the room.

You giggled, playfully ruffling his blond locks, earning a mock frown from him. "No! No touching the hair!" he protested, but you couldn't resist running your fingers through his soft hair once more, as if symbolically removing the last traces of doubt from his mind. He couldn't help but laugh, his resistance crumbling under your touch.

"Okay, now you're asking for it, you know," he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Philip tilted your head down, gazing into your eyes with an overwhelming love. The softness of your lips enchanted him, and he leaned in, sipping from the elixir of immortality.

Your love was a delicate blend of honey and roses, overflowing with affection shared behind closed doors, a secret garden of emotions.

His warm breath brushed against your cheek, carrying a hint of alcohol from the earlier sip of whiskey. It trailed along your jawline and neck, leaving a tantalizing sensation in its wake. He whispered softly, gently setting you back down.

"You're a work of art, sweetheart... something I'll never fully understand, but something I'll forever pray for and thank God for granting me."

[mccall-muffin]

The Lady and the Major - Part 1/3 // John "Bucky" Egan x OC

Summary: Major Bucky Egan is on leave in London, and what else is there to do than to drink, sing, have a good time, and... of course, ladies. But then he meets Liz, a Lady of the Court, and Bucky is immediately entangled in her net.

Warnings: Language, teasing, use of alcohol - soldiers being soldiers

A/N: Okay, wow... I thought today: "Uh, I have an idea for a OneShot with Bucky Egan," and now I'm sitting here with a three-part story. Jeeeeeez... Uh, but what you gonna do. (I've only seen the first two Episodes of MotA as of now, but... I just love Callum)

Here is my Masterlist

Tags: @liebgotts-lovergirl, @softly-writes, @mads-weasley, @brassknucklespeirs, @softguarnere

(Sorry mates, you just have to be tagged ;))

The Ritz, London, 1943

The opulent bar of the Ritz in London, brimming with the raucous laughter and chatter of soldiers on leave. The air is thick with smoke, jazz music fills the background, and the atmosphere is charged with the night's excitement.

Major John "Bucky" Egan, surrounded by a rowdy group of fellow American soldiers, is the life of the party. His laughter is loudest, his stories the most captivating, and his gaze roams freely, appreciative of the scenery—particularly the women who add a touch of glamour to the smoky room.

Bucky, with a glass of whiskey in hand, leans back, surveying the room with a smug grin. "Gentlemen," he boasts, "London's no match for a Yank with charm. Watch and learn."

His eyes, however, catch a sight that stops him mid-sentence—a vision of elegance seated across the bar. Lady Elizabeth Cavendish, unbeknownst to him, sits alone, her posture the epitome of grace, a long, slender cigarette holder elegantly poised in her hand. The soft glow of the bar lights catches her blonde hair and the sparkle in her blue eyes, making her seem almost ethereal.

Bucky's usual confidence wavers for a moment, his friends noticing the sudden change. "Well, I'll be damned... Who's that?" Bucky mutters, more to himself than anyone else.

One of the British soldiers, a man who has seen his fair share of high society, leans over, a knowing look in his eyes. "That, Yank, is Lady Elizabeth Cavendish. The Duke of Wellington's daughter. I'd tread carefully if I were you. She's out of your league."

Bucky's grin returns, cockier than before. "Out of my league? Buddy, there's no league I can't play in. Watch me."

With a swagger in his step, Bucky makes his way over to Elizabeth, his comrades watching eagerly, some with admiration, others with skepticism, and some with knowing faces.

"Evening, miss. Can I say you light up this room brighter than the London Blitz," he says cockily, letting his charm play.

Elizabeth doesn't even glance up from her drink at first, taking a slow drag from her cigarette. When she finally turns her gaze towards him, it's with an air of amusement. "And can I say that's the most American pickup line I've ever heard?"

Bucky, undeterred, flashes a grin. "Major John Egan, at your service. But for you... You can call me Bucky. And you are?"

Elizabeth finally offers him a small, knowing smile. "Elizabeth Cavendish. And I'm quite aware of who you are, Major Egan. Your reputation precedes you."

Bucky, leaning against the bar closer to Liz, his confidence seemingly unshaken. "Is that so? And what have you heard?"

Liz, taking another slow drag from her cigarette, eyes Bucky with a mixture of interest and challenge. "Oh, just that you're quite the charmer. A real ladies' man. Or so you believe."

The air between them crackles with a mix of tension and intrigue. Bucky, for once, finds himself having to work to maintain his usual smug demeanor. "And what about you, Lady Elizabeth? Do you enjoy games?"

Liz's smile widens, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, Major, I don't just enjoy them. I excel at them. Care to play?"

The challenge hangs in the air, a silent dare that Bucky, despite the warnings and his better judgment, finds himself unable to resist. "You're on. Let the games begin."

As Bucky signals the bartender for another round of drinks, his fellow soldiers exchange glances, some shaking their heads, others betting amongst themselves on the outcome. What none of them realize is that in the game of seduction and wit, Liz is a master strategist, and Bucky might have just met his match.

Bucky leans closer, his confidence unwavering. "So, Liz, you don't mind me calling you Liz, right?" he starts, the smug smile never leaving his face, "I've flown some of the most dangerous missions over Germany, you know. But I must say, navigating this conversation with you feels like my most thrilling challenge yet."

Liz lets out a soft, amused laugh. "Major Egan, I've met many men who believe their war stories could sweep a girl off her feet. And maybe it actually does some. But it's going to take more than tales of aerial feats to impress me," she replies, her voice laced with a teasing sarcasm that only someone of her breeding and wit could perfect.

The night progresses, and with each drink, Bucky becomes more audacious, his hand finding its way to the small of Liz's back, a bold move that, in any other circumstance, would have guaranteed success. Liz, however, is not any woman he's encountered before. She plays along, leaning in as if captivated by his charm, her lips tantalizingly close to his, only to pull away at the last moment, leaving him wanting more.

Their conversation ebbs and flows, with Bucky regaling her with his exploits, each tale more daring than the last. Yet, Liz remains unimpressed, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement rather than awe. It's a dance they're both familiar with, but in this instance, Liz leads, her every move calculated to keep him on his toes.

As the night wears on, Liz finishes her drink, placing the glass delicately on the bar. She rises from her stool, the movement graceful and deliberate. "Well, Major, it has been... interesting," she says, her tone implying a myriad of things left unsaid.

Bucky, taken aback by her sudden desire to leave, scrambles to his feet. "Wait, Liz, why don't you stay for another drink? The night is still young, and I feel we've barely scratched the surface."

Liz turns to him, a sly smile playing on her lips. "I'm afraid I have other engagements to attend to, Major. But I must thank you for the entertainment," she teases, her gaze piercing through him with a challenge that silently says she's not one to be easily conquered.

As she walks away, Bucky watches, a mix of frustration and fascination written across his face. For the first time, he's encountered a woman who not only matches his wit but exceeds it, leaving him in uncharted territory. Liz, with her aristocratic poise and undeniable charm, has turned the tables on him, making it clear that if he wishes to pursue her, he's in for a game unlike any he's played before.

Returning to his comrades, Bucky's expression is a mix of irritation and resolve, a stark contrast to the confident swagger he had before approaching Liz. The British soldiers, having observed the entire exchange, can't help but wear smirks of "told you so" on their faces.

"Well, Major, looks like the ice queen has claimed another victim," one of the Brits comments, clapping Bucky on the shoulder with a laugh that's both sympathetic and mocking.

Bucky, undeterred, shoots back, "This isn't over. Not by a long shot."

Another British soldier chimes in, swirling his drink, "Mate, many have tried to climb that mountain. From viscounts to earls, not a single one has reached the summit. Lady Cavendish is... well, she's a fortress."

"Yeah, heard she loves to make sport of men, seeing who can try and fail the most spectacularly," adds a third, his tone laced with a mix of admiration and warning.

One of Bucky's American friends, attempting to find a solution, suggests, "Did you pull the pilot card? Chicks love pilots." The suggestion hangs in the air until another British soldier, who had been quietly listening, interjects, "Her brother's Captain Edward Cavendish, Royal Air Force war hero. Your pilot card might as well be a library card."

The revelation doesn't dampen Bucky's spirits; if anything, it fuels his determination. His jaw sets firmly, the challenge now more personal than ever. "So, she's used to high-flyers, huh? Well, she hasn't met anyone like me. I'm not just any pilot; I'm Major Bucky Egan. And I don't give up that easily."

The group looks at him, a mix of skepticism and intrigue in their eyes. They know Bucky for his tenacity, his charm, and his unwillingness to back down from a challenge. But Lady Elizabeth Cavendish is not just any challenge—she's a high-stakes game that many have lost.

As the night winds down and the group disperses, Bucky's mind races with plans. He knows winning over someone like Lady Cavendish won't be easy, but he's always loved a challenge. The thought of her, with her piercing blue eyes and that untouchable aura, only makes him more determined. He's ready to prove that he's not like the others, that he's someone who stands out, even in a crowd of heroes.

The stage is set for a captivating game of wit, charm, and strategy. Bucky's resolve and Liz's cunning promise a tale of intrigue, where each move could either draw them closer or push them further apart.

In the soft morning light filtering through the hotel's dining room windows, Bucky and his fellow soldiers are halfway through their breakfast, the air filled with the light-hearted banter typical of men who've faced much together. The sudden approach of a concierge, bearing the unmistakable posture of formal importance, silences the table. With a discreet cough to announce his presence, the concierge presents a silver platter to Bucky.

Bucky, eyebrows raised in surprise, picks up the envelope resting on the platter. The envelope itself is a work of art, the calligraphy on the front flawlessly executed, hinting at the significance of its contents. His name, "Major John Egan, US Air Force," is inscribed with elegant flourishes that speak of a bygone era of meticulous attention to detail.

As he carefully opens the envelope, the anticipation among his comrades is palpable. They watch as Bucky's initial confusion shifts to an understanding smile, a silent acknowledgment of the ongoing saga that had captivated them since last night. He pulls out the invitation, and it reads:

Major John Egan,

It is with great pleasure that Arthur Cavendish, Duke of Wellington, and Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of Wellington, extend to you an invitation to a gala being held at our family estate, Wellington House, on the evening of this day.

This event will assemble distinguished individuals from various sectors of British and Allied societies in a celebration of unity and resilience in these challenging times.

Date: This evening at 7 o'clock post meridiem

Dress Code: Formal (Black Tie)

Location: Wellington House, Kent

We anticipate the honor of your presence and look forward to an evening of meaningful exchanges and spirited fellowship.

Kindly present this invitation at the entrance.

Sincerely, The Duke of Wellington

Bucky's grin now spread wide across his face, confirms the unspoken thoughts of his table. "Looks like I've got plans this evening," he announces, his voice a mix of amusement and intrigue.

The soldiers around him, well aware of the story behind the invitation, erupt into a mix of cheers and playful jeers. Bucky's encounter with Lady Elizabeth Cavendish, a tale that had quickly become legendary among them, was evidently far from over. This invitation was not just a call to a social event; it was the next chapter in a story that promised to be as unpredictable as it was entertaining.

As the concierge departs, Bucky's mind races with possibilities. The gala at Wellington House was not just an opportunity to step into the world of British aristocracy; it was a chance to see Liz again, to engage in their game of wits and charm. With a sense of adventure stirring in his heart, he knew one thing for sure: the evening promised to be unforgettable.

House Wellington, Kent, 1943

As Bucky steps into the grandeur of the Wellington estate, the opulence of the gala immediately envelops him. The air is thick with the scent of expensive perfumes mingling with the faint aroma of quality tobacco. The chatter of the high society fills the room, a mixture of refined British accents and the occasional foreign dialect. Bucky, in his crisply pressed formal uniform, stands out—not just for his attire but also for the aura of confidence he carries with him, an unmistakable mark of a man not easily intimidated.

He navigates through the crowd, champagne flute in hand, his eyes scanning the room until they find what they've been searching for: Liz. She's a vision in her gown, embodying the grace and elegance of her status, yet with a glimmer in her eye that hints at her spirited nature. As he approaches, he can't help but admire the way she holds herself, the center of attention yet seemingly uninterested in the adoration she commands.

"Seems like I can't go anywhere without you showing up to steal the spotlight," Bucky teases, offering her a playful smirk as he closes the distance between them.

Liz turns to face him fully, her expression one of amused defiance. "Oh, Major Egan, I was under the impression that an officer of your caliber would know how to read a simple dress code," she retorts, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she gives him a once-over. "But I suppose we can't all have the luxury of choice in our evening attire, can we?"

Bucky chuckles, unphased by her jab. "Well, Lady Cavendish, it seems I'm at a disadvantage here. While you dazzle the room in that stunning dress, I'm stuck in this old thing," he says, gesturing to his uniform with a mock sigh. "But let's be honest, we both know I could show up in a burlap sack, and you'd still find it hard to keep your eyes off me."

The air between them crackles with the tension of their banter, a dance they've both come to enjoy. Liz takes a slow drag from her cigarette, held elegantly in a long holder. "Confident, aren't we? Just don't let that confidence get you into trouble, Major. This isn't the front line, and the battles here are fought differently," she says, blowing out a stream of smoke, her gaze locked with his.

"Then consider me armed and dangerous," Bucky replies with a grin, his eyes never leaving hers. "But I'll admit, this is one battlefield I'm looking forward to navigating, especially if it means crossing swords with you, Lady Cavendish."

Their exchange, filled with the playful yet pointed jabs of two individuals equally matched in intellect and charm, sets the tone for the evening. Around them, the gala continues in its whirl of music, laughter, and conversation, but for Bucky and Liz, the rest of the world fades into the background. They are each other's focal point, engaged in a game where the stakes are undefined but unmistakably high, each moment building on the tension and attraction that simmers just below the surface.

As Bucky and Liz continue their verbal dance, the arrival of a British Captain momentarily shifts the atmosphere. The Captain's demeanor is one of polite curiosity mixed with the protective scrutiny of a brother. When he inquires about Bucky, there's a brief tension, a moment where the social games of the evening meet the reality of wartime alliances and personal connections.

Bucky, with the straightforwardness that military life has ingrained in him, extends a hand. "Major John Egan, US Air Force," he introduces himself with a respectful nod, recognizing the familial resemblance in the Captain's features.

Edward's expression warms slightly at the mention of Bucky's service. "Ah, a fellow pilot then. And where might you be stationed, Major Egan?" he asks, a hint of camaraderie entering his voice upon learning of their shared skies.

"With the 100th Bomber Group," Bucky responds, his answer earning a nod of respect from Edward. The reputation of Bucky's outfit precedes him, known even among the British ranks for their bravery and contributions to the war effort.

The conversation takes a turn when Edward's attention shifts towards his sister, curiosity piqued. "And how did you two come to meet?" he inquires, his gaze bouncing between Liz and Bucky, searching for a glimpse into his sister's enigmatic social life.

Bucky opens his mouth to answer, perhaps a little too eagerly, ready to dive into the tale of their first encounter. However, Liz, ever the master of her own narrative, interjects with a grace that belies the quick thinking behind her words. "We met at a charity event just last week," she states, her voice carrying a tone of casual innocence. "Major Egan was kind enough to share some fascinating insights into his experiences in the war so far. It's not every day we have the honor of hearing such stories firsthand."

Edward's expression softens, a mix of brotherly concern and pride evident in his gaze as he looks at Liz. It's clear he's unaware of the full extent of his sister's adventurous spirit and her propensity for finding herself in the company of intriguing characters. "Well, I'm glad to hear our allies are not just brave but also charitable. It's important, especially in times like these, to remember what we're fighting for," he comments, directing a respectful nod towards Bucky.

The moment passes, and Edward excuses himself to greet other guests, leaving Bucky and Liz alone once again. Bucky raises an eyebrow at Liz, impressed by her quick thinking and ability to weave a story that protects her reputation while not entirely dismissing their actual encounter. "A charity event, huh? You're quite the storyteller, Lady Cavendish," he teases, the corners of his mouth turning up in an amused smile.

Liz, taking a delicate sip of her champagne, meets his gaze with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "One must always be prepared to tell the story that needs to be heard, Major Egan. Besides, I couldn't possibly let you ruin all my fun with the truth, now could I?" she replies, her tone playful yet laced with the underlying thrill of their shared secret.

Their exchange, now even more charged with the thrill of their clandestine understanding, continues to weave a complex tapestry of attraction and intrigue, each moment adding to the layers of their unfolding story.

Next Part

[pedal-writes]

Homesick (2)

A/N: This one is a bit longer despite it honestly being filler but yk I gotta keep the grind up guys 🙏 oh yeah, don't mind the obligatory fanfic bestie, she isn't gonna have that big a role after this don't worry guys, big peepaw robot will only be on the mind soon lolz

Oh yeah and I added some dialogue from the book in here bc it's easier to translate that then movie dialogue so I'm gonna switch between the both of those, just an FYI!

It’s been about a week or so since you arrived in L.A.. Like Sam boasted about, he managed to get a car, a yellow camero to be exact. It was amusing how much he rubbed it in your face as if you didn’t get a car when you were literally his age. But you weren’t that bothered by his sudden load of cockiness and was just happy he managed to get some independence for himself. 

Today, Felicity wanted to meet up with you  and catch up over some dinner and maybe a shopping spree at the mall. She had been talking about it all week but couldn’t see you until now since she hasn’t found a good time to take off from work. You went through your suitcase and found a few cute clothing items that screamed casual but also girls night (more like day) out. As you picked up your purse and made sure all of your essentials were inside, you made your way out of your bedroom and down the stairs. A small chuckle left your lips when you heard your parents muffled voices bickering outside. They were working on the yard for the past few hours and your mom would constantly harp on what your dad did wrong. It was a little funny honestly. 

Suddenly, you felt someone walk past you and a muffled sorry escaped their lips. You glanced over in confusion and saw Sam go into the garage. You snorted and decided to follow him, out of pure curiosity. As you walk into the garage and lean on the door frame, Sam scrambled to find his keys. “Hey Sam, what’s goin’ on?”

Sam glances over, his demeanor dropping a bit in annoyance. “I’m uh, going to this lake party. Miles is gonna come with me so y’know…”

“Wait, you got invited to an actual party?” You responded with a twinge of surprise in your voice. “No offense.”

“I mean not… officially. It’s a public place, anyone can go to the lake.” Sam said, making his way past you and towards one of the back doors. “And why are you so done up? You don’t usually wear clothes that nice.”

“Wh— Okay I’m going to ignore that you just said that. Anyways, Felicity is gonna pick me up in a few because she wanted to catch up since we haven’t seen each other in like forever.” You say as you adjust the purse hanging on your shoulder. As the name ‘Felicity’ leaves your mouth, Sam groans over dramatically and turns towards you. “You’re seriously still friends with that girl?”

“Duh! She’s my best friend Sam.” 

“Yeah, more like she’s the best at being annoying. She would literally come here every single day after school and you two would talk about whatever girl problems you two had and by the way, I heard everything. The walls are very thin in this house.” Sam opened up the door and began to walk out. “I have no idea how mom and dad even tolerated it because I didn’t! You guys didn’t even listen to me when I complained.” He rants irritably, making his way towards the driveway.

“But she had a troubled home life! I was the only one there for her. And she hasn’t spent the night here since I was in high-school. That was, what, five years ago?” You explained as you followed close behind him. Both of you managed to step onto your father’s, Ron’s, lawn. “You two, I do not like footprints on my grass. Please step onto the very nice path I ever so carefully laid down.” 

“Oh, sorry dad.” You mumbled and retraced your steps. You could practically hear Sam’s eye role as he begrudgingly did the same. “Mom, seriously, could you stop putting jewelry on Mojo? He’s got enough self-esteem issues as a Chihuahua without you pimping him every day.”

Judy frowned at her son. “You know I don’t like for you to use that term,” She scolded. 

“Maybe you should put him back in the dryer, hon.” Ron said playfully. 

You glanced towards your mother with a confused expression. “Wait, that’s how Mojo broke his leg? Mom, you told me he jumped off the counter and fell weird.”

“I– I was ashamed, it’s embarrassing. And It was an accident, Ron! I didn’t know he fell asleep in the laundry basket. You know how hard he is to see sometimes.” Judy reached down and picked up the small dog, cuddling him close to her chest despite Mojo’s frantic means to escape her grasp.  “How’s your little leggy-weggy, huh, tough guy?” She cooed.

Hearing a small buzz come from your phone, you grab it from your pocket and see a message from Felicity. 

‘I’m here nerd :P GET UR ASS OUT HERE!!’ 

“Oh uh, Felicity’s here. I’ll see you guys later. And have fun at your lake party, SAM.” You walk back into the house and hear a cut off ‘shut up’ as you close the door behind you. From the windows at the front of the house, you see that familiar white convertible parked in front of the house and excitedly open the front door, locking it behind you. 

“Hey you! Long time no see.” Felicity said, resting her sunglasses on top of her head. You walk towards the car and open the door to sit inside. “Yeah, it’s certainly been awhile.” You lean over and give Felicity a hug, cringing slightly at the amount of perfume she’s wearing. 

“So how are you? How’s your job?” Pulling away, she starts the car and drives down the neighborhood’s street. “I’m doing alright. I uh… quit my job. Some stuff happened with another coworker and I just couldn’t work there anymore.” You hesitantly answered, fidgeting with the strap of your purse. 

“Oh snap. Was it like a creepy coworker thing or…” 

“No no, nothing like that. Well I guess… kinda. It’s complicated. I had no idea what this guy’s problem with me was but he wouldn’t leave me alone! Always harassed me before, during, and after work. I tried to report him to H.R. but since he was positions above me, they just gave him a slap on the wrist.” You paused for a few moments and felt your cheeks begin to burn with embarrassment. “So one morning, I was so pent up I… hit him. Like punched him, really hard. I’m pretty sure I broke his nose and screwed up my hand really badly. It was a stupid thing, really…” 

Felicity stayed quiet for a few seconds before a smile creeped onto her face. “That is so badass.”

You looked at her dumbfounded. “It was not badass!” 

“It so was! You were like ‘you want a piece of me?! Bam!’ and then the creep went down. I bet he never bothered you again after that, huh?” She quipped, that same dumb smile resting on her face. 

“No, he didn’t. But it cost me my job! It’s just really unprofessional.”

“But didn’t you quit it?”

You sighed. “I quit out of embarrassment, before they would inevitably fire me.”

“Oh. Well, since you’re so smart, I’m confident you’ll find another one. Maybe one without a weirdo guy.” 

“Yeah, I hope so.” You rested your elbow against the hard material on the door and laid your head against your cheek, staring at the passing buildings and people with a mopey expression. You really were disappointed you lost a job that both perfectly matched your interests and paid highly. Maybe after being in L.A. for a few weeks will raise your spirits enough to start job hunting again, and get out of this weird depressive funk that’s been preventing you from doing so. 

Felicity noticed your change in attitude and cleared her throat, changing the subject. “So I’ve been following this one news blog and apparently there are some high tensions between the U.S. and some other countries for some reason. I really hope a war doesn’t start because that would be, like, really bad.” She says, glancing between you and the road ahead of her. 

“Oh yeah,” You sit up again and look at her. “I’ve seen stuff like that on the news. If a war does start, they would start drafting people right?”

Slowly the restaurant came into view and Felicity pulled the car into the parking lot. “Pretty sure, but only boys though. Woohoo for us I guess… Speaking of boys, how’s Sam doing?” 

“He’s doing fine. He got a car recently, It’s kind of a piece of junk though. And he also still hates you.” 

Felicity laughed as she pulled into an empty parking space. “Yeah I figured. Should I apologize to him? Since I kind of invaded your personal life for a good while.” She turned off the car and stepped out, grabbing her purse. You think about it and eventually nod, also exiting the vehicle. ”He’s annoying for sure but I’m gonna say yes. I care about the both of you and I don’t want any bad tension between you two, as funny as it is.” 

“I’ll remember that. Oh, and when we get in here, only one alcoholic beverage. Cause I am not dragging your drunk ass out of here like last time.” She playfully bumped her shoulder into yours and opened the front door for you. 

“What that– It was my 21st birthday! That’s not fair. I even said I wouldn’t do something like that again.” You argued.

“Riiight, okay. Just get in here.” You rolled your eyes and mumbled a ‘whatever’, to which Felicity chuckled. 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

It was already night time when you and Felicity were done shopping at the mall. She was a bit of a bad influence considering how overboard you went with the shopping, with her excuse being ‘you’ll probably rarely get chances to visit Cali again so make it worth your while!’ But despite the amount of money you spent, you deemed it worth it considering you found the cutest pair of Uggs. As the two of you walked down the sidewalk, You let out a small sigh as you realized how far away Felicity had actually parked. It was a Saturday night so of course the mall was packed, so it made sense for her to park a block or two away. 

What you both didn’t know was that there was a looming police car in the distance behind you, slowly creeping. 

“Remember that one time in sophomore year when you liked that one jock-y kind of guy and during valentines day, you went up to give him a valentine and literally fell on your face?” You laughed, adjusting the bags in your hands so they wouldn’t be as uncomfortable in your hands.

“Oh my god, that was so embarrassing! It gives me second-hand embarrassment just thinking about it.” Felicity shivered.

“Hey, at least he asked if you were ok, even if he rejected you afterwards…”

“Ugh, can we talk about something else? Please?”

Soon, Felicity’s car came into view and you both crossed the street with urgency. As you put your bags in the backseat and got into the car, your brows furrowed at the police car parked beside the sidewalk you and Felicity were just walking. “Uh, Was that Cop car always there?” You pointed out to your friend. 

“Mm, yeah no. I’m pretty sure he just drove up. He’s probably keeping a look out for thieves or junkies or something.” She replied, starting the car and beginning to pull out of the parking space. “Unless, you’re the thief.” 

You playfully scoffed. “I wouldn’t steal anything!”

“I’m just joshing with you.” Felicity patted your back and drove down the dark street. A few minutes would pass before you would see that same cop car following behind you two from that same far distance as before. You brushed it off, he was probably just driving to get something to eat or go back to the station. But as Felicity turned the car a few more times and the car still didn’t change its direction, you started to get a little anxious. 

“Felicity, that cop car is legitimately following us now.” You mumble, staring into the rear view mirrors with a small pit in your stomach. 

“What? Should I pull over?” She replied in a worried manner. 

“I don’t think so… He would turn his lights on or–or yell at us to pull over by now.” 

Felicity decided to take a different way to your house and went down a darkened street with almost no streets nor people, to try and maybe lose him. The two of you still kept your eyes on the rear view lights before the car suddenly stopped. It sat there for a few seconds before making a U-turn and going back the way it entered, almost like it was being called by something. You both sighed in relief, “Thank god…” You muttered. 

“That was really weird… Do you think he was gonna kidnap us or something?” Felicity looked at you with wide eyes.

The thought irked you a bit and you shook your head. “I don’t want to think about it, I just want to go home.”

Felicity nodded understandably and went back onto the regular route to your house. The ride wasn’t that long and as the car drove down your neighborhood’s street, the familiar shape of your family's home came into view. “Thank you for coming to hang out with me, I really missed you. And I’m sorry it ended weird with the whole cop thing…” Felicity said with a small frown on her face. 

You huffed, leaning in and giving her a hug. “It’s okay. At least he left us alone and I got to spend some time with you.” You pulled away and smiled, to which she returned. You reached in the back and grabbed your bags, stepping out and closing the car door with your hip. 

“I’ll call you tomorrow, please get home safe Fel.” 

“Will do, tell your parents I said hi!” With that, Felicity started her car again and drove down the street. You watched her drive away for a few seconds before going into your house. When you opened your door, it was dark and you were pretty sure your parents were asleep. You walked up the stairs and you heard Sam’s muffled talking coming  from his room. Something about how leaving someone behind at the lake wasn’t that big a deal and to ‘get over it.’ 

You snorted and headed towards your room, setting your bags down and closing the door. It was a bit late but you could probably still squeeze a shower in, considering you felt a bit sweaty from walking outside all that time. You took off your shoes and grabbed your towel off of the door, walking back into the hallway and into the bathroom. You didn’t want the shower to be too long considering how late it is so you moved with a sense of urgency, getting out after about 20 minutes. 

After getting into some jammies and aggressively drying your hair with your towel, you flop into bed and sort of reminisce about the past day. While you were really happy you got to see your best friend again, you felt a bit irked out by that cop car following you and Felicity. There really was no rational explanation to justify why that car was following you so it was probably either a creepy guy who stole a police car, or worse, a creepy cop. The thought creeped you out and you sat up, yawning and rubbing your eyes tiredly. Your eyes dart over to under your door and you see a little bit of light that was coming from Sam’s room. That gave you an idea. You grabbed a blanket and a pillow and made your way out of your room. You stopped at Sam’s door and knocked. The sound of approaching footsteps were heard and the door opened, Sam standing there with a neutral expression. “What’s up?” 

“Can I sleep in your room tonight?” You hesitantly asked, honestly feeling a little childish. 

Sam rolled his eyes. “You’re a grown woman, with your own room, and I need my privacy. So if you don't mind—” As he closed the door, you gently stopped it with your hand and gave him a saddened look. “Please Sam, I don’t think I want to be alone right now.” 

His eyes widened slightly and he sighed, opening the door fully and letting you enter. You found an empty spot on the carpeted floor and threw your pillow down, sitting down beside it. “So… Did something bad happen today?” Sam asked, walking over and sitting on his bed. 

“No—well, yeah I guess. Felicity and I were on our way over here and this cop car was just slowly driving after us. I didn’t think much of it at first until Felicity turned a few times and that car was still behind us. We were panicking and I thought ‘oh my god i’m going to die’ before the creep stopped and turned around. It wasn’t fun, like at all.” As you talked, you laid your head down against your pillow and pulled your blanket over you, looking over at your brother. 

“Oh damn, I’m sorry. That sounds freaky.” Sam said with a frown. 

“Yeah it certainly was. I’m just glad we managed to get out of there without getting hurt or worse… Anyways, I’m gonna change the subject now. How was the lake party?” 

Sam grinned at the question. “You won’t believe it when I tell you, cause it’s that unbelievable.” 

“Spill.” 

“Mikaela Banes actually got into my car and I drove her home, in my car!” 

You sat up with a bewildered expression. “Bullshit!” 

“I’m serious!” 

The two of you talked and laughed for a little while after that and soon drifted off to sleep, you forgetting about the mildly upsetting events that transpired today. A few hours had passed of peaceful slumber until you heard a car revving and Sam running out his door in a hurry. You were still a bit dazed and your tired mind registered it as nothing, so you quickly fell back to sleep.

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Hey! Just wanted to say love your Sihtric fics. They literally give me life. As a new Last Kingdom fan (just started watching the show, on season 2 now). I was hoping you could write a one shot of Sihtric x Fem reader. Where the fem is like a healer very similar to Iseult in season 1. But this time reader is patching up our boy Sihtric. The reader is extremally worried for Sihtric. Hope this ask is okay. Thank you again!

The Witch

Part 1

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: Dear Anon, I'm so sorry it took me so long to write this. I loved the request, but unfortunately there were so many things in between. And lately I really struggle with writing, so I can tell you I have rewritten it at least five times and if I don't post it now, I will probably start all over again tomorrow. Sorry, I didn't manage to put all in a one shot, so this is Part 1.

Warnings: a bit of fluff and as per usual angst, but in delicate doses

Word Count: 3,4K

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek @alexagirlie

If you want to be added to the tag list - write to me.

Sihtric's gaze repeatedly drifted toward the upper end of the grand hall, where Sigefrid and his brother Erik were seated. He tried to force himself to look away, just to find himself staring again as if pulled by an irresistible force. It was not the commanding presence of the two brothers that captivated him. No, it was you. 

The first time Sihtric had seen you was on the very first day of his arrival in Beamfleot. Deliberately, he guided his horse into a slow walk as he passed through the city gates, determined not to appear hasty or restless. He was supposed to look just like one among the numerous Danish warriors lured in by the boastful promises of wealth and vast lands, spread by Erik and Sigefrid. 

He paused at the stables, casually tossing the reins to a stable boy, and began to unfasten his saddlebag, taking in his surroundings with vigilant eyes, all the while sensing an unfamiliar presence, as if someone's gaze bore into him.

Sihtric turned around, finding no one behind him. His gaze shifted upward, scanning the city's encircling walls, counting the watchtowers and the spears positioned within them. It was precisely at that moment when he caught sight of you. You stood upon the ramparts, your attention firmly fixed on him, making no effort to conceal it. 

The sun danced through your unbraided hair, fluttering in the wind and what was meant to be a fleeting glance began to feel like an eternity for Sihtric, as he found himself unable to tear his eyes away. He was ensnared by the boundless depths of your dark, scrutinising eyes, as if they possessed the ability to peer into the recesses of his soul, reading his very thoughts. 

"Hey, you, lunkhead," a mocking voice snapped Sihtric's attention back to the present. "Barely arrived, and already fallen under the witch's spell?" 

A small group of warriors approached him, and Sihtric felt a slight flush of embarrassment as he chuckled nervously.

"What's it to you?" he retorted, raising an eyebrow.

"You know, the woman up there on the ramparts. The seer and Sigefrid's personal healer," one of the warriors grinned knowingly.

Sihtric shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I was just taking in the view. No harm in that, right?"

The warrior smirked. "Oh, there's harm, my friend. They say she can see right through a man's soul. Best be cautious with those lingering looks."

"I'll keep that in mind," Sihtric chuckled, feigning nonchalance, but as the group of warriors continued to jest and banter, he couldn't resist stealing one last glance in your direction, only to find the ramparts empty, with a few mocking ravens cawing at him. 

Sihtric didn’t expect to see you soon again, but there you sat, positioned to Sigefrid's right. Your slender fingers, adorned with golden rings, idly played with the ale mug before you, while your large and expressive eyes swept across the scene of feasting, drunken, and brawling warriors in the hall. In another corner of the hall, a more serious argument appeared to be escalating. Your voice cut through the commotion, addressing one of the warriors by name, and your firm and assertive gaze landed on the group. Instantly, their voices lowered, and the quarrel that had been unfolding came to a halt. It was as if you held a power over the gathering, a power that made Sihtric’s heart race and his palms grow sweaty. 

Each time your eyes wandered in his direction, Sihtric felt a shiver run down his spine and he hurriedly turned away, clutching his mug and engaging in forced conversation with a nearby companion, all in an effort to avoid accidentally locking eyes with your watchful and discerning gaze, just to find himself stealing secret glances a moment later.

No matter how hard Sihtric tried to clear his mind, your presence lingered like an indelible mark. Even as he finally sank into the bed assigned to him within one of the large barracks nestled along the city walls and closed his eyes, he found no escape from your haunting image in his dreams. It was a frenzied vision of a wild sprint through a dense forest.

"Come on, catch me if you can," your voice, soft and melodic, teased him, urging him in the direction of its origin. There you stood, leaning against a tree, a playful smile gracing your lips as you extended an inviting hand. He ran towards you, his breath heavy, not so much from the wild chase as from the electric anticipation coursing through his veins. Sihtric loomed over your fragile and gentle frame, trapping you between his body and the tree. Your lips half parted, so red, full and inciting lured him in with a soft moan, your fingers trailing up and down his chest. His hand tenderly caressed your cheek as he leaned closer, his heart pounding in his ears and his eyes widening in surprise as you dissolved into thin air just a moment before his lips could meet yours.

"Catch me, I'm here, I'm waiting," echoed again from a different direction, and the wild chase began anew.

Upon waking in the morning, Sihtric discovered himself drenched in sweat, his breath laboured, and his heart pounding, as though he had just completed an actual race. He cursed silently at his own foolishness, swearing never to venture near the grand hall in the evening to evade encountering you again. 

And during the day he even managed to focus on his direct tasks, he inspected the barracks, visited the camps outside the city gates and casually walked nearby the docs to get an overview of the ships and the crews on them, however, each time as the evening descended, there he sat, nestled in his preferred corner at the far end of the hall, his back against the wall, surreptitiously stealing glances at the beautiful witch, drawn to your every movement and word. 

Sihtric seethed with frustration at his own weakness, resenting the magnetic pull you had over him. At times, he couldn't help but wonder if you had really somehow bewitched him, making his attraction to you feel all the more maddening and cursed himself for not being able to get over this hopeless infatuation.

—----------------------------------------------

You had long been aware of the handsome, young, and bashful warrior whose gaze seemed perpetually drawn to you. It didn't escape your notice how his cheeks would flush with a rosy hue every time your eyes met his, and how he attempted to steal glances at you, convinced he was being discreet.

Your heart couldn't help but warm to the endearing way he watched you, the earnestness in his big, expressive eyes mirroring a genuine curiosity and fascination. It was as though he were a moth to your flame, his shyness only adding to his charm. You were used to men looking at you with desire, but the sweet, innocent adoration that radiated from the young warrior made your heart fill with an unexpected sympathy.

You found yourself secretly delighted by his persistent glances, amused by his attempts to hide his interest. There was something about this young and undeniably handsome Dane that piqued your curiosity in return.

While the whispers and rumours surrounding you had labelled you as a witch, you knew well that your abilities were far from magical; they were rooted in your sharp wit, ability to observe and listen and your keen reasoning and you couldn't help but take notice that the young warrior always seemed to keep to himself. Unlike the boisterous and rowdy men in the hall, he never engaged in quarrels or brawls, and you had never once seen him completely drunk. 

You were intelligent enough to put things together and after inquiring discreetly and listening carefully to the tales and whispers circulating among the warriors and local folks, you were certain that the enigmatic young man was a spy. The question remained who had sent him. The idea that Alfred, the Saxon king, would employ a Dane for such a task seemed improbable.

Then, like a bolt of lightning, it struck you – Uhtred, the infamous Dane killer. This must be it. You had heard countless stories about him, a Saxon and a Dane, steadfast in his devotion to the old gods despite the repulsion it elicited from his King, renowned as a formidable warrior and a nobleman whose lands harboured both Danes and Saxons, living together in peace.

Your curiosity knew no bounds as you contemplated the implications of this discovery.

You had vehemently opposed this ill-conceived plan and had attempted to dissuade Erik and Sigefrid from their reckless pursuit. Impulsive and driven by their unquenchable thirst for conquest, they often lacked the foresight to plan for the long term. They were warriors, not settlers. Meanwhile, you found yourself tired —tired by the ceaseless cycle of men waging war and longing for someone with the courage to forge peace.

The weariness ran deep, as you were exhausted of mending wounds that you knew would barely have a chance to heal before the next battle, the next the final blow, erased the lives of the very fools you were striving to save. You had grown weary of gazing into the hollow, despairing eyes of the widows and children who had followed their men in pursuit of the elusive promises of wealth and fertile land. You were a healer, and you longed for an end to the relentless cycle of violence.

Even as both Danes and the Saxon town folks referred to you as a witch, with the former showing respect and the latter reacting with fear, crossing themselves and spitting in your direction, you knew who you were and had no need for anyone else's approval.

For you, healing was not just a trade—it was your heritage, your calling, a legacy coursing through your veins. You had absorbed the knowledge from your mother, who had received it from her own mother, continuing a long line of wise and strong women passing down their carefully gathered wisdom from one generation to the next. It was a blessing and a burden you carried with equal measures of pride and devotion. And as a healer, you held within your heart a sacred dream of peace and prosperity for your people. In a world already burdened with pain and suffering, there was no room for the needless and futile wars incited by foolish, power-hungry men.

Just a few days prior, you had experienced a heartwarming surprise when a young Saxon girl had come to you under the cover of night, secretly seeking your aid for her little son. She had knocked on your door, her trepidation clear, fearing the judgement of others but driven by her desperation for help. You had not hesitated to assist her.

Today, while crossing the bustling marketplace, your paths had crossed again. Your gazes had locked for a brief moment, and in that instant, you knew that the boy was well. Your heart swelled with warmth as you witnessed the unmistakable joy shining in the young mother's eyes. It was moments like these that constituted the greatest reward, the very purpose of your existence—to apply your knowledge where it was needed most, to offer help to those in dire circumstances.

—-----------------------------------------

"Damn," Sihtric muttered under his breath as he withdrew his knife from the lifeless body, observing as it slowly slumped to the ground.

Wincing at the unusual ache that prodded at his consciousness, Sihtric instinctively reached for his right side, as though attempting to locate the source of the unpleasant, slightly burning sensation that was steadily intensifying. Something sticky and warm trickled through his fingers, prompting Sihtric to extend his hand for a closer look, his vision blurring as the burning sensation in his side abruptly erupted into a sharp, overwhelming pain.

Blood. So much blood. It dripped from his fingers and streamed down his arm. With a forceful grunt, he pressed his hand against the area where the pain was most intense, as if attempting to quell it, and leaned heavily against the wall.

He had carefully avoided all the quarrels and brawls in the city, but this time there hadn't been any other option; the robust, black-haired warrior with a scar marrying his left cheek had recognized him and attacked in rage without a single word of warning. 

Gasping for breath, Sihtric tightened his grip around the hilt of his knife as the world around him began to blur slowly.

"No, no, no... come on... get a hold of yourself," Sihtric muttered under his breath, shaking his head in an attempt to clear his vision.

With a resounding groan, he straightened and forced himself to move forward. Each step sent waves of pain through his body, nearly causing him to double over. Gritting his teeth, he continued to stumble through the deserted, narrow streets of Beamfleot, using the wooden walls of houses to support himself.

Where to? He was alone here, without a clan, without friends or a leader. There was no one who would be willing to help him. It wasn't a conscious decision, but rather a pure instinct that guided him toward a small house standing apart from the others, nestled under an ancient oak tree with its imposing wooden arms stretched protectively overhead. Some distant memory in his pain-addled mind had led him to choose this small house as his last refuge.

Shivering, cold sweat covering his forehead, Sihtric pressed on, forcing his trembling limbs to take another step and then another until there was no wall left to lean on.

"Come on, just one more step... You can do it, you're almost there," a loud groan escaped Sihtric's lips as his knees and hands collided with the unforgivingly hard ground. He lay there for a moment, still, listening to his laboured breaths and feeling his heart racing in his chest. He was too close to give up now. He wriggled back to his feet, took a few steps, slipped and fell again, his hands and knees bruised and aching. The small house loomed just before him, just a few strides away. Stretching out his arm, he dug his fingers into the muddy earth, his nails breaking against some hidden stones in the trampled ground as he forced himself back on his feet again.

Sihtric had always imagined that death would come swiftly, like a clean cut from a sharp blade. But now, it felt more like falling asleep after a long, exhausting day, with everything around him dissolving into a soft mist.  He had fallen again and his strength was slowly waning, as with one last effort, he propped himself up on his elbows and crawled the final few steps to reach the door.

—--------------------------------------------------

It was late, nearly midnight by the moon's position in the sky, and the fire in the hearth was on the verge of dying out. You added more wood to the fire and watched as the flames danced and licked at the fresh fuel, gradually regaining their strenght. Sleep was a luxury you couldn't afford at the moment. The ointment for treating wounds was running dangerously low, and it was just the right time to prepare the fever-reducing potion, it was a new moon - the perfect timing to achieve its best effect.

Your eyes roamed around the spacious room, taking in the herbs hanging on lines along the walls, then returned to the mugs, flasks, and pounders scattered across the table before you. This place had once belonged to a local healer who had fled as the Danes drew near. Being Sigefrid's personal seer had its advantages, as no one had dared to challenge your declaration of this house as your own. 

A peculiar sound at the door jolted you from your thoughts, instantly commanding your attention. It wasn't a customary knock, but rather a feeble scratching. Instinctively, your hand sought the dagger hanging from your waist. With a gentle but purposeful motion, you retrieved the small yet potent weapon, a faithful companion that had saved your life on more than one occasion. Cautiously, you approached the door and swung it open.

"What in the world..." you exclaimed, taken aback as your gaze fell upon the grimy, hunched figure of a young man—a Dane. He gasped for breath, his body trembling violently, his right hand pressed to his side, and blood seeping through his fingers. His face contorted with pain, his large, expressive eyes silently begging for help.

By the way his eyes periodically rolled back, it was evident that he was on the brink of losing consciousness.

"Hey, look at me." Kneeling down beside the young warrior, you firmly gripped his chin, locking your gaze with his. And then, in a sudden rush of recognition, you realised who he was—your sweet and bashful admirer, the young warrior, the very spy sent by Uhtred.

"You're going to be alright. You're in the right place. I will help you. Do you hear me? You are safe here," you assured him as he struggled to catch his breath. The Dane nodded, sucking for breath in short, shallow intervals.

"I need you to stay awake. Can you do it for me?" The young man's eyes began to roll back again. "No, no, no, stay with me, look at me," you hissed in frustration and pressed your finger onto the wound in his side. The Dane cried out, but his gaze cleared.

"What's your name?" you asked, not because you needed his name, but because you needed his focus.

"Sihtric," came a barely audible whisper from his lips.

"I'm sorry, Sihtric, but I need you to stay awake and make one last effort. I need you to summon all your strength and help me get you on your feet. Come on, I know you can do it. You are strong," you said, placing his left arm around your neck and wrapping yours around his waist. As you pulled, you didn't expect his lean body to be so heavy, but to your relief, he still had enough strength to follow your lead. With a loud groan, he managed to rise to his feet. 

"Good, you're doing very well. The hardest part is behind us now. Just a few more steps to that table over there. Can you see it? You can lean on me. I won't let you down, I promise. But you have to find the strength to move your legs. I can't carry you," you reassured him, tightening your grip on his waist as you both took a step towards the table. You could feel his body trembling from the effort, leaning heavily on you, his breaths growing even more uneven and sharp. However, he managed to stumble in the right direction.

"Good, just one more step, and we're there," you kept talking, trying to maintain his focus. And then, you reached the table, allowing him to slump down. You supported his head as it slowly descended onto the hard surface and quickly lifted his legs, placing them on the table.

"This is going to be a long night," you murmured to yourself, your hands already in motion as you hastily gathered your supplies and placed the kettle filled with water over the flames of the hearth.

Your experienced fingers deftly unfastened the belt, untied the laces, and carefully removed the armbands. Eventually, everything was loose enough to pull the thick and heavy armour from the young Dane's body. Cutting away the blood-soaked linen shirt that clung tightly to the wound, you gasped in astonishment as your gaze traced the well-built, muscular frame of the injured warrior, wincing in pain on your table.

His body was marked with scars. You recognized each one, having treated them countless times before, but it was rare to see so many of them in one place. There were the short, deep scars left by knives, the long, straight ones undoubtedly from a whip, some uneven burns, healed sword cuts, and a few from axes, identifiable by the deeper cuts in the centre that gradually faded at both ends. Each scar had a different colour, with some older ones slowly fading away and others more recent.

He was so young; you would wager he hadn't seen more than nineteen or maybe twenty summers. Yet, his body was like an open book to your skilled eyes, recounting a long tale of torment and pain. Too long for his young age.

"Drink this," you gently lifted his head and brought a small mug to his lips. "It will dull the pain."

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

[cursedvida]

SAD EYES, BROKEN SMILE p.II (Buggy x f!Reader)

HERE PART 1 // HERE PART III

Warnings: violence, swearing a lot, reader being a little tsunedere. Little age gap between the reader and Buggy, she's like 25/26.

A/N: i didn't plane this for having more than one chapter but here we go... Again sorry for the typos, English isn't my first language. I hope you enjoy this :D

You don't know much about seduction. In fact, you don't know anything. Throughout your life you've had very little interest in love affairs. You had a pretty rough teenage years, so you were too busy surviving to think about boys. Therefore, the whole thing with Buggy is something totally new to you. Not being in control of the situation gets on your nerves. It's irritating, nauseating. To think that right now you could have collected a nice reward and you could be quietly enjoying your money, but instead you're in that crew thinking about a clown all day is something your pride can't take. You often wonder how you could have stooped so low, but as soon as that red-nosed idiot pops into your head there is only room for daydreaming. 

Now your goal is no longer to kidnap him and hand him over to people who will probably kill him, but to try to make him notice you. But really you, as a possible love interest, and that's much harder than your first mission. It's like ten billion times more complicated. Killing people is a lot easier than attracting them. 

You were trained to kill people, so you're not a person who knows very well how to relate to others. Social skills aren't your strong suit and being nice for more than fifteen minutes isn't either. You've at least tried to be friendly with the rest of the crew, but by continuing to pretend you're a wimp you haven't had much chance to blend in either. 

Today the whole crew went to the nearest tavern for a drink. Buggy claims to have landed a deal that will bring in a lot of money, so he's in a good mood. At first the tavern keeper didn't seem too happy to welcome a gang of pirates to his place, but Buggy can be quite persuasive when he wants to be. 

Now they're all drunk. Buggy is the center of attention, as usual. He boasts of his great wit and everyone around him cheers him on. The alcohol causes all emotions to intensify. You watch him from the bar, this time you're drinking because it's the only way you don't feel ridiculous about being hopelessly attracted to that idiot. 

You have conflicting feelings all the time. You like him, but you think he's a dumbass. You're attracted to him, but at the same time you think he does terribly ridiculous things. You have no idea how to handle all those emotions, but you're also unable to take your eyes off him or ask yourself absurd questions, like how experienced he should be, or how he should look without makeup. You also often think about whether he'll like younger girls, because he's got more than a decade on you and you might not be his type. In fact, what his type is also comes to your mind all too often. 

Fuck, you're a mess. 

You order another mug of beer, turning away from staring at Buggy with an intensity that could break solid concrete. You've always had a good tolerance for alcohol so you're not drunk, just dizzy enough to make it all the same to you. The perfect state. 

"What's a girl like you doing surrounded by this bunch of weirdos?"

Suddenly you see a guy next to you, he doesn't belong to the crew. He's a big man, looking menacing. He must be one of the few people who have decided to stay in the bar despite the pirates. You decide to deliberately ignore him. 

"Hey gorgeous, I'm talking to you.”

You take another swig of beer, completely evading. You decide to turn around again, now Buggy is doing some sort of demonstration. He has detached his hand from the rest of his arm and swings his clenched fist at full speed. You don't know what he's talking about, but he sure has exaggerated the whole thing. You smile to yourself. 

"Who the fuck is that fucking clown?" asks the heavy one, still standing next to you. 

You don't even deign to look at him. 

"Shut the fuck up" You tell him in the coldest voice you can. 

"Don't tell me you're going with him and his whole gang of freaks" The guy lets out a huge laugh "Honey, a beauty like you is wasted among all those creeps."

"And the oxygen you use is also a waste considering it could be useful to someone who isn't useless to society."

"But what the fuck is wrong with you, does it bother you that much that I pick on that loser?"

"I told you before to shut the fuck up" You repeat calmly and without raising your voice. 

"Uh, you scare me" he laughs "almost as much as your big nosed captain". 

"All right, you asked for it”

The guy can't even react, as soon as he wants to realize you've already stuck an ashtray in his mouth, wedging it in such a way that he can barely breathe. And, before the others can even realize what's happening, you grab one of the stools and hit him so hard in the stomach that the guy goes flying towards the other end of the bar, hitting the wall with such force that the ashtray comes out of his mouth. 

You calmly return to your seat, taking another sip of beer as if nothing had happened. But it's at that moment that you come back to reality to realize that Buggy is no longer the center of attention, but you, and that everyone is staring at you in disbelief, including your captain. 

Fucking shit, for fuck's sake. 

Now you've really fucked up. You're supposed to be a rookie with barely any physical skills, not a killing machine. Let's see how you get out of this now, though at least Buggy is paying attention to you. God, you have to be a moron to think something like that at a time like that, you're totally losing your mind. 

"What the hell was that?" Buggy ask to you.

You just answer simply, as if everything that just happened was not with you.

"He was bothering me"

Buggy approaches you, something that makes you nervous. Not because he might be angry, but to have him around. You almost killed a guy just two minutes ago but having the man you're obsessed with looking at you makes your legs tremble.

“You broke all his teeth, Y/N.”

You look at the man across the bar. It's true, you've left his mouth in a mess, all his clothes are stained by the blood that falls on him. But hey, he asked for it, you warned him.

"Why hadn't you said you knew how to fight like that?" He insists, and you don't know if right now he's thinking of killing you, kicking you out of the crew, or both. 

You can't tell him that you were hired to hunt him down and that you've abandoned that task because you have a huge crush on him. Especially the crush part, you would never admit that, so you must think of a good excuse as soon as possible. 

"My parents trained me" and that's not a lie "but they always said to only use my skills if necessary" that's a lie, and a big one at that. 

Buggy looks you up and down, which makes your stomach tingle. You are so close to him that you can almost feel his breath on your skin. So close that it would be very easy to get a couple of centimeters closer and see what red lips taste like. You wonder what his skin must feel like against yours, or how your hands must feel tangled in his hair. You look like the narrator of a romance novel, it's pitiful but you can't help it. 

"You've been swabbing the deck since you came in, how did it not occur to you to say you could be of more use to us?”

"I'm sorry, captain."

Buggy lets out a sigh, there is something paternalistic in his attitude, that condescension that is so typical of him. That makes you relax, he believed everything. Probably because he's drunk, but you don't care about that now.

Buggy puts his hands on your shoulders, making you jump. It's the most contact you've had since you've known him and it's not even real contact because he's wearing the fucking gloves.

"Y/N, look at me" And you obey, although the fact of having him so close to you, being able to smell his alcohol breath mixed with that smell of gunpowder that characterizes him makes you a little dazed. You feel more and more like kissing him. "You can't keep such important information to yourself. But don't worry, I'm going to look for a better position for you. With how good you are at fighting, we're going to do great things together, huh."

You nod without further ado. It's a shitty proposition, he's just telling you that he'll use you as a weapon, like he uses the strongest members of his crew. But you don't care, because Buggy is touching you and because from now on you will be able to talk to him a lot more.

Maybe you should go talk to that guy from earlier and thank him.

Oh, god. Yeah, you're definitely going from bad to worse.