#“I'm happy to buy you a drink” marry me right fucking now

[mopeytwat]

I can't stay silent about this any longer HE IS SOOOOOOO FINE IDC

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd season 2 #our flag means death season 2 #ricky banes #prince ricky #erroll shand #please for the love of God hear me out #he's so weird and awful i want him #i need him religiously #“I'm happy to buy you a drink” marry me right fucking now #he's so disgusting #he's so beautiful #he's my fav character now #I'm most likely gonna end up hating him #God I'm so scared to post this #No I'm not it has to be said #I have the worst taste in men ever #He's so pretty I can't describe it #I'll stop now I'm so soz

[m-jelly]

Hello, Jelly! Can I please request a Canon Levi x Wife Reader who is actually a sly cunning, smart intelligent noble woman with a kind, heart of gold? You can do what you want with the plot. Thank you

@kenkopanda-art <3

Cute brain

Levi x fem!Reader

Canon, wife and husband, romance, love, married, sweet moment, fluff.

Levi spends a day off with you and gets to see how you work.

Big thank you to @ladycheesington for helping me come up with a plot.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @notgoodforlife @demonsimp6 @nbinairyn

Levi leaned against the frame of the window as a man dropped to his knees before you. He tried not to laugh when the man started begging you to help him. The man was pleading for you to give him back everything, but you sat behind your desk drinking your tea.

He shuffled closer. "I need those trading deals. Give them back."

You hummed. "I paid for the fair and square. You lost, accept it."

He grabbed the edge of the desk. "I need them!"

"I don't think you do. You have so much money that you don't know what to do with it. It is just you and you pay your workers poorly." You sighed. "About them. I have paid them off and they are now working for me."

"You sly bitch!"

Levi snarled. "Tch, watch your fucking mouth. That's my wife you're talking about."

The man shook in fear. "I didn't know...you...uh..."

You smiled at him. "So, I have the trading routes, I have your workers and you kind of owe me money because you took some loans."

He started to get nervous. "I uh..." He laughed nervously. "I don't have it yet."

You tilted your head. "Hmm...Levi? As a man from the underground city, you know very well what things can bring in money, right?"

Levi walked closer. "I do."

"Anything on him that could sell well for his debt?"

Levi cracked his knuckles. "Yes."

You got up and packed a few things as Levi got what you needed. You waited for the man to scamper out sobbing before you held your husband's hand. "You ready?"

Levi squeezed your hand tightly. "Yes."

You kissed the back of his hand and walked with him through the town until you reached a large building. You slipped inside and grinned when kids started screaming and shouting for you and Levi. You kissed Levi's cheek and left him to the children you'd both saved from the underground. You moved to the person in charge and handed them money.

The teacher welled up. "Thank you so much! Oh, Mrs Ackerman, you have been wonderful. You and your husband have rescued so many children and women from the underground."

You smiled softly. "Levi came from that life and he lost his mother to the city. We want to prevent more death and suffering."

"You're both a blessing." She placed the money in her safe. "How is your husband?"

You giggled. "Likely playing with the kids." You walked with her back to Levi running around with the children. "There he is." You smiled as the rescued women were giggling and saying nice things about Levi. "It makes me happy to see these women and children doing well. Do we have enough for therapy?"

The teacher nodded. "We do. I'll action it. These ladies and children have seen and done things...we'll get them the support."

Levi jogged over to you and panted. "I have fought titans, people, trained for days and even camped out beyond the walls for days. None of that compares to running around with little kids for a while." He ruffled his hair and sighed. "I'm exhausted, but it's fun."

You giggled. "You are doing wonderful with them."

"Thank you." He hummed a bit. "Kids..."

You kissed his cheek. "A lovely thought."

He nodded. "Yeah, yeah it is."

You hugged Levi's arm. "Shall we buy the kids some sweets?"

"Sounds good and then a date after?"

You kissed Levi's cheek. "Perfect."

#levi ackerman #levi #aot levi #snk levi #aot fanfiction #levi x you #fanfic #levi x y/n #levi fanfiction #levi x reader #jelly fanfics #levi x reader fluff #levi x yn #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman snk #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x y/n #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader

[jennay]

Protect Her

The request:

Jamie standing up for his girlfriend when she's having an argument with her older, abusive brother about her relationship with J or smth, whatever you come up with!! and taking care of her after that situation, because protective Jamie is such a perfection 😩

Master List

You and your brother met at a local restaurant that neither of you had tried. You were excited for your brother to meet your boyfriend, finally. It only took him a year to agree to a simple lunch.

"When's he going to be here? I'm hungry." Your brother stares down at the menu. Hangry was a trait that ran deep in your family tree and showed in your brother.

"He said ten minutes."

You chose seats outside to enjoy the sunny weather. God knows you could use some sun. Plus, if your brother made a scene, it would be easier to escape.

"I looked him up online." Your brother David raises his sunglassed eyes to you.

"And?" You question knowing that you more than likely weren't going to get the response that you wanted. You never understood why David didn't like Jamie. He never gave you a direct answer. He shrugged it off as he just didn't. You wanted to believe that he was a sweet, protective brother, but you knew better. Your brother had verbally abused you off and on your entire life; why would he stop now?

"He's been with many women and already engaged by age thirty-three." He leans back in his chair, "The real question is, why hasn't anyone married him by now if he's such a great guy?"

"Trust me; I'm trying." You joke. "I'd marry him right now if he asked."

You are thankful when the waitress asks to take your drink order. Your brother orders a lemonade, and you order Jamie water and yourself a vodka lemonade. You were going to need it to get through this lunch.

"You think he's the one?"

You nod. "I don't think Jamie's the one. I know he's the one."

"Hey," Jamie pulls the seat from beside you and sits down. "Sorry, I got stuck in traffic, love." He leans over to kiss you.

"I'm glad you made it."

The waitress appears with your drinks. "Thanks." Your brother says to her. He's watching you and Jamie interact, but he's not buying it. He thinks it's all a show, and you two couldn't be that happy with one another.

"Jamie, this is my brother David; David, this is my boyfriend, Jamie." You watch as David reaches out to Jamie; Jamie stares at his hand for a brief second before realizing that he's in America, which was one of the corks of introducing yourself.

"Nice to meet you." Jamie kindly says. "Have you guys ordered?"

"Waited on you." David's attitude hasn't changed one bit over the years. He's still going to be a prick about everything. "So, what drew you to this one?" He asks Jamie. "Not much of a personality there. Can't imagine it was anything interesting."

Jamie's eyes widen. He's never heard someone talk to you like that. Shocked, his eyes wander over to you, wondering what the fuck just happened. "You must be confused, (Y/N) has a fantastic personality. She's a lot of great things, and boring is not one of them." Jamie brings his hand to the table where your hand rests. He calmly laces his fingers with yours and watches as your brother sarcastically chuckles.

When the waitress comes back, you order your food and patiently wait. You watch as your brother rests his elbows on the table and lets his jaw relax in his hand. He eyeballs you before smirking. You feel nervous; you don't know what he will say next.

"Doesn't sound like the girl I know." He takes off his sunglasses this way; he can ensure you see malicious intent behind his eyes. "Sounds like you're keeping secrets."

"Don’t." You warn.

His eyes dart to Jamie, "How many girls do you cheat on my sister with when you're out touring? I'm sure every girl wants a piece of the lead singer."

You feel embarrassed by your brother's question. "Stop." You tell him. You feel your heart begin to race, and you want to splash your drink in his face. Why was he so mean? For no reason other than that, he was like your father.

Jamie leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. "What's this really about? Are you trying to hurt her or me?" He takes off his cap and sets it on the table. "You can try to hurt me all you want, but you will not hurt her in any way, shape, or form." His voice is low and stern. "Are we going to have a problem?"

"Are you threatening me?" He stands up and pushes his chair back hard. "Come on, tough guy." He chides.

Is this really happening?

Jamie doesn't stand up, though. Instead, he chuckles at your brother's motion and says, "Keep your shirt on. I'm not going to fight my girlfriend's brother." He laughs again, which pisses David off more.

"You're going to let him talk to me like that?" David marches around the table and gets in your face. "You're pathetic. You'll never amount to anything, and your loser boyfriend will leave you just like they all do." He takes a step back, too proud of his job to notice that Jamie's fist is two seconds away from his face.

David stumbles back, holding his bleeding nose. "What the fuck, dude." He acts like he didn't just degrade you in front of your boyfriend.

Jamie grabs your arm and pulls you out of your chair. "I told you if you did anything to her, we would have a problem." You grab your purse from the ground and latch onto Jamie's arm. "Get fucked." Jamie says, "Come on, love."

As the two of you are walking back to Jamie's car, you can hear your brother cursing at you, but Jamie tells you to ignore it. He puts one arm around you, sticks the other in the air, and gives David the finger.

"Jamie." You warn.

He rests his arm back at his side and kisses the top of your head. "Nobody gets to hurt my girl."

I hope you liked this! Let me know if you want something written ❤️

#jamie bower #jamie campbell bower #jamie campbell x reader #jamie fanfic #jamie bower x reader #jamie bower x you #jcb #jcbower #jamie bower x y/n

[iwaasfairy]

You’re right about how people should mind their own business. I would like to add that sometimes it is necessary to inject into a relationship, especially toxic relationships. Because some ends in murder, or trauma, or a baby. Plus a teen ends up with a high school teacher is nasty (that’s the only part I disagree with you/unless if the teacher is in their 20s, but it’s weird) If two adults are happy in a relationship, then people should let them be.

Ok, I don't know why people try to read between the lines of things I said, even tho I know you're just commenting on the post- I'm not talking about relationships where a crime is being committed. I'm not talking about abusive relationships. I'm not talking about minors with adults. I'm not talking about people who are being forced, or being assaulted, or where a crime is taking place. I specified that in the post.

Two consenting adults. Two consenting adults making a choice to be together, and existing online. That's what I'm talking about.

The teacher thing I was referring to was a story of a hs gym coach in his early twenties who never had contact with his future wife in school. He happened to meet her after she was already out of high school. No grooming happened. No illegal shit. Just a consenting adult and a consenting adult, but people felt the need to start calling them out for being happily married years after the fact, when they weren't even so much as talking about their relationship. They're both in their thirties now. They were just a couple existing online.

And like I said, you're allowed to think it's weird. I also think it's a little weird if someone in their mid twenties wants to date a 19yo. But that's exactly the thing I was saying, ok. People infantilize young women, and then deny they're doing it.

You want to tell me a 21yo is old enough to vote, work, drink, drive, fuck whoever they want, go into sex work, have a baby, adopt a child, get their entire body covered in tattoos, get tossed into big adult jail, buy a whole house and get criPPLING debt

but not to date another consenting adult?

Really. Really? And you don't think that's sort of insulting to the young woman in question? All that, but you think it's ok to harass her because she's dating a 29 year old? If you think that's a little silly, then you agree with the point I was making.

And if you genuinely think "yea that's how it should be", then I just don't. agree with you. People only do this to young women. They only do this to women, not to men. It's degrading and gross and anti-woman.

#I'm not a moron; i understand why people warn people #if their relationship is truly actively harmful #if someone was 16 and was groomed into being with a 25yo #i never said anything about that tho;; of course people are allowed to warn a cHILD from being with a predator #the post specifically states many times: legal consenting relationships #between adults #aren't your drama. they just arent #if you genuinely constantly feel the need to comment on other people's relationships #even when they aren't asking your opinion #if no abuse is taking place; if no crime is being committed; if there's no indication of future abuse #you're just out of line #and i hate the fucking implication that young women 20 and up #just don't fucking know what theyre doing n that we're stupid #that we can't possibly decide for ourselves to be with older men #not saying you do that in particular- but ive seen it so much now #it just gets so old #honey mail

[thewritersaddictions]

Prompts List

Pick from this list of many prompts. To send in requests just click 🦝 Give me a number and a few details. Let's have fun with this prompts list!

"Your hair is so soft..."

"It's too cold! Come back!"

"No, I'm not letting you go. It's too early to get out of bed"

"C'mere, you can sit in my lap until I'm done working."

"I'm not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention

"Shh, you're safe. I won't let you go."

"What? Does that feel good?"

"Just pretend to be my date."

"He/she did it." "No he/she did."

"I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified."

"It's not a double date. We're just third and fourth wheeling."

"No no - it's alright, come here."

"I'm not going to leave you. You're never going to have to suffer by yourself again, I promise."

"Look, I know we don't know each other that well, but I'm still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone."

"If I could, I would kiss away all of your scars."

"I think I might be falling in love with you."

"Your lips are so soft. I could kiss them all day."

"It's not bad to cry. In fact, I think it makes a person stronger."

"Mmm... you're warm."

"You're so cute when you're half asleep like this.."

"I've had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with..."

"No, you can't get up! You're my prisoner for today."

"Shh, it was just a bad dream. Just a dream okay? None of it was real."

"You know I'm/we're always here for you, right?"

"Please talk to me about it."

"You have something in your hair... um-do you want me to get it out?"

"I remember practicing how to ask you out in the mirror.."

"I would've had breakfast ready, but you were sleeping on my arm and I didn't want to wake you."

"I know I've kissed you like, ten times, but just like another ten, please."

"Are you wearing my shirt?"

"Wanna, like- I mean, it you're not busy... we could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don't have a lot of time?"

"So I was driving past a pet store and couldn't help but wonder how cute an animal would be like in our home."

"Let's just stay in bed."

"We live together. You can't blame this on anyone else."

"You're beautiful, you know that?"

"Shooting star. Make a wish."

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Wow, you're hot."

"I want to marry you."

"I want to take a shower so you should probably join me. It'll save water."

"You're just not the same anymore.."

"It's midnight! Where the hell were you?"

"What the hell is your problem?"

"Why do you run away from your problem all the time?"

"You can't keep it all inside, you know?" Bottling it up won't do any good."

"Hey, I know you're hurting.. but, you're not alone, okay?"

"I hate you! I'm sorry it took me so damn long to realize that."

"You lost your chance."

"I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression."

You can'y just lose your temper like this every time you get a bit upset."

"calm down! You're scaring me!"

"Don't look at me like that."

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

"I'm done trying to help you!"

"Sorry doesn't fix anything."

"You didn't call. You didn't text. Nothing."

"It isn't up for debate."

"I don't know what's wrong, okay? I'm just… really tired."

"I'm fine. Stop asking."

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong, and don't try lying to me."

"I hope someday you get a taste of your own medicine."

"Pack your shit and go. Get the fuck out of my sight!"

"Is this how little you think of me."

"I can't do this anymore… not with you."

"Are you happy now? Huh? DOES THIS MAKE YOU HAPPY?!"

"You said you'd always be ther efor me… so how did this happened? Why weren't you there?"

"Did it ever occur to you that you're hurting me too?"

"I don't need help! I just want the pain to stop!"

"We can be friends instead."

"I tried to move on, but nobody is you."

"Do I look like I've moved on

"I don't remember a fight or a rason, so what happned? Why did we break up?"

"Can I at least buy you a coffee? For old times sake."

"I can't take the loneliness anymore."

"I feel like everyone just forgot I exist."

"What are you talking about? You're married."

"Maybe I'm meant to be alone…"

"I gave you your chance, and you just used it to stab me in the back."

"I've been alone for so long…"

"But you promised."

"Isn't this, like illegal?" "Probably."

"You're really drunk right now. I don't think you're gonna remember any of this." "No, i'm not drunk at all. You're just blurry."

"I have a feeling we should kiss." "Is that a good feeling or a bad feeling?"

"yeah, well, I shut everybody out. Don't take it personally. It's just easier. "

"You're jealous, aren't you?" "I'm not jealous."

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

"I can't beliece you dragged me into this."

" Bite me." "Eat me" "Kiss my ass."

"You think I'm dumb enough to fall for that stupid move."

"You have to tell me why were committing a felony before we do it. Not that that's going to stop us, but at least I'll have all the facts. "

"You weren't supposed to laugh! I'm so embrassed."

"I vote today is a pajama day."

"You aren't supposed to laugh! I'm embarrassed."

"It's a real shame nodody asked for your opinion."

"There's been some real friction in our friend group lately. I sugget an orgy to save out friendship."

"I saw that, You just checked me out."

"Are you stupid or stupid?"

Posted on: 01/21/23

#short prompt #fluff prompts #angst requests #angst prompt #97 prompts #100 prompts #requests are open #requests wanted #requests open #requested #requests #request #stranger things #the walking dead #the witcher #the peaky blinders #criminal minds #the vampires diaries #the orginals #resident evil village #marvel mcu #the boys tv #the boys

[trashbag-baby666]

Heart Of Glass-Rooster Bradshaw

Chapter Fourteen

WC: 1,248.

C/W: None?

HOG Masterlist!

Bradley was at a lost planning the grooms side of things, he had sat down with Mav at the kitchen table.

Mav had never done this before either but he was trying his best to help him with everything.

"I don't know what any of this stuff means or how to do this Mav," Bradley sighed dropping the list onto the table that Mazy had made for him. He brought his hands to his face and dug the heals of his hands into his eyes.

"I've never done any of this before either so we can figure it out together. Why don't we check things off as we go? We finished doing our half of invitations." Mav paused briefly and put a check next to it, "Finish ordering the boutonnière's." Mav sighed and opened up Bradley's laptop the first thing popping up the local florist website.

"The ones Mazy wants should be up already." Bradley sighed as he got up and refilled his cup of coffee.

"They are, I like your guy's color theme a lot." Mav hummed as he placed the order for them.

They had chosen a deep sapphire blue and peach color theme. Mazy was really big on colors and did a whole psychology deep dive on the colors.

"Thanks Mav," Bradley sat back down and checked off the item on the list, "Finish my half of the registry. I can't believe you can get married or whatever and just put ridiculous items on the registry and someone you've met maybe once in your life will get them for you."

"I agree, I was in for a shock at Charlottes baby shower for Mazy. It was all these people I had never met before buying us things that would've put us in debt." Mav agreed, he was so happy he could help Bradley with all of this.

He knew that out of all of them men in the world who could've asked for Mazy's hand in marriage it's someone who could treat her with respect and give her everything.

"Oh my god," Bradley sighed, "With all the wedding talk I forgot she's literally pregnant with my child."

"Okay Bradley I know this seems like a lot. Fuck this is a lot but it's gonna figure itself out. We have time to figure everything out and you have people in your and Mazy's corner. There's so many people who are here to help you." Mav assured him.

"We already talked about turning our guest room into the nursery and Mazy was looking at color theory." Bradley sighed, "I know we're comfortable and have money saved up. I'm just worried about going into debt."

"That's while we will make the best baby shower registry and make sure tons of people are invited." Mav chuckled and gave Bradley a side hug, "Let's focus at the task at hand."

At the end of the day Bradley and Mazy were so happy to get into bed and go to sleep.

Mazy rubbed her eyes and took a long drink of water from her bottle and set it on her nightstand before plugging her phone in.

Bradley tugged off his shirt and tossed it towards the hamper then plugged his phone in.

"How was your day darling?" Bradley let out a long deep breathe he felt as if he'd been holding in all day. He relaxed into the grey bedding Mazy sinking further into him as he wrapped an arm around her.

"Good, stressful and good. My wedding dress still fits so if I can keep myself at this size for another three weeks we will be set." Mazy yawned, she was stressed about her dress not fitting but she had alternatives. Tomorrow her and Nat we're gonna go buy a cheaper white sundress just in case. Penny offered to sew a tuul train kind of thing for a white sundress. She was happy she had women there to support her, "I don't wanna worry about that right now. How was your day Hun?"

"Good, me and Mav talked about registry's. Told me about your moms baby shower for you." Bradley kissed her shoulder.

"It was crazy. Crazier than a baby shower should be it was this whole thing. I've heard all the stories." Mazy giggled as she rolled over onto her back. Bradley instinctively wrapping an arm around her and combing his hand through her brown hair. "Simpler times I wish we could've been there for. I wish I would've been old enough to really know my mother."

"She was so great," Bradley hummed. He was barely old enough to remember Charlie but bits and pieces were there.

"I'm glad you knew her," Mazy turned looking at him.

"I'm glad you knew my mom too." Bradley looked down at her as she snuggled into him.

"I wish both of our mothers could be in attendance but you know." Mazy rubbed her eyes.

"Let's just go to sleep you know? We've been stressed let's not be stressed." Bradley placed a kiss on her cheek.

"You don't make sense. Good night I love you." Mazy snuggled into him.

"Goodnight little bird, love you too." Bradley kissed the back of her neck as they fell asleep together.

Mazy stood in the kitchen with the fridge door open.

“Our food is gonna go bad if you keep standing there with the door open.” Bradley hummed as he came in from outside. Bradley likes tending to the garden when he had off time.

“I’m so hungry,” Mazy shut the door and leaned against the counter rubbing her face.

“Pregnancy moment?” Bradley grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water from the sink.

“Yeah,” Mazy opened up the cabinet and grabbed a box of gold fish crackers. Always a comfort snack of her.

Bradley grabbed under her butt and lifted her onto the island counter, “Thank you Hun.”

“Mhm,” Bradley hummed as he chugged the cup of water and filled his cup again. He was rocking possibly Mazy’s favorite sight ever. An open floral shirt, khaki shorts, and some old school vans.

“You’re hot you know that?” Mazy giggled shoving a handful of goldfish crackers into her mouth.

“Oh I’m self aware of how to woo you,” Bradley kissed her cheek.

“I feel like I’m on the worst period of my life. My hormones are absolutely ridiculous.” She leaned her head forward onto his shoulder.

“Oh I’m so sorry darlin’,” Bradley rubbed her back taking in her fresh scent.

“I felt so nauseated this morning. Not exactly morning sickness but I know it’s coming, my boobs hurt so badly.” Mazy chuckled picking up her head.

“Maybe I can fix that,” Bradley winked.

“Stop,” Mazy giggled and ruffled his sandy hair.

“I saw you invited Hangman to the wedding when I took the envelopes to the post office.” Bradley hummed lifting Mazy up and carrying her to the couch.

“I mean he did literally save your and my fathers life. Plus I think he’s gotten some sense knocked into that big Texan head.” Mazy smiled as she laid between Bradley’s legs. He ran a hand mindlessly through her brown hair.

“I guess I just. He’s always been kind of a dick.” Bradley sighed.

“I’ve been talking to him more I trust he’ll not act like an idiot.” Mazy looked up at him.

“If you can trust him I’ll trust him. I support your choices and trust you.” Bradley kissed the top of her head.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #phoenix top gun #hangman seresin

[bite-sized-devil]

(for the fmk ask game)

admittedly, i am torn.

on one hand, marriage would mean i got to be around you all the time; while i fear that i would get annoying, i would greatly love getting to spend time with you.

that being said, i know you’ve said marriage isn’t your thing, and fair enough. it do be a Whole Thing. as such, fuck is also tempting, as i know you’d give a wonderful time.

so basically i’d be happy with either, but dammit you’re staying alive.

Hello my moon friend and fellow Aussie 💕💕

You could never annoy me, mainly because I would be to busy annoying the shit out of you. How about this; we make a bet whomever gets annoyed first buys the other one drinks? Or if you don't drink, lunch then!

Yeah I'm not a marriage gal, never have been. None of my Barbie's or brats dolls were married they just all collectively fucked action man or each other. 😂

Listen I'm all about blowing my partners mind so I'd definitely take care of you in that department 😘

Dying sounds pretty good right about now, dw I'm not actively suicidal or so my shirt says. 🙏🙏🙏😅

#i actually don't know where about in Australia you reside. but if its near brisbane we should meet up! #no pressure though because i am supr social awkward! #what does one do with ones hands in social situations? where should they rest? #fmk game #ask game #aussie buddies! #moonie the cutie

[kookiecrumb]

jjk|| Your Head

"tags": @kazthebrekkerofinej

word count: uhhhh

summary: Jungkook is the heir to the throne of your Kingdom! In this tale of duty versus heart, will love prevail victorious?

tags: Royalty!Jungkook x Peasant!Reader, oneshot, smut, fluff, slight angst, some crack, pining, forbidden lovers, Jungkookie has a sweet tooth, strangers to friends to lovers

warnings: explicit language, impact play, birthday sex (technically), fingering, oral (m receiving*), love marking, alcohol consumption, s&m themes, horny grinding, praise kink/body worship

a/n:

hey guys!

Firstly, I want to say how proud I am of myself for growing so much during this fic. I learned a lot about what I'm comfortable with, what I'd like to work on, and where my confidences lie.

I won't lie and say it's been easy, because writing this meant dealing with a lot of my fears? I'm excited for all the works that are to come.

The only thing I can do is be as receptive to growth as possible, so I'm looking forward to learning...

*I actually learned that Vaseline wasn't invented until like the 1870s? The fic is written in the 1810s, so I actually had a choice between having them do it with vegetable oil or spit. Spit won.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

5 years ago

You bend over to pick up an apple that had rolled over under your father's produce cart, praying that it isn't bruised so that you have to pay for it out of your dinner, when a crumpled piece of paper hits you in the ass.

Confused, you crawl out from under the stand and unwrap the paper.

The paper itself is of the finest quality you've ever seen. It's a sturdy cardstock, bleached white with gold etchings on the borders. The print on the top of it reads "His Highness Jeon's Royal Study," and scribbled in some kid's amateur cursive below, "Nice butt."

You directed your gaze upwards, towards the towering castle walls. Sure enough, a boy no older than 15 had his noggin popping out from the top of the rampart, with two wide eyes staring down, curious as to your reaction. This was Prince Jungkook, heir to the throne of your kingdom.

"Shouldn't you be equestrian horse riding or playing polo or something?" You shout. He furrows his eyebrows, apparently offended at your assumption, and then disappears behind the edifice.

Moments later, another paper hits your shoulder as you're practicing your caligraphy behind your cart. It lands between the apples, so you reach your hand over and fish out out.

You glance up at the anticipant, and sure enough he's there with his doe eyes and his coconut head, ogling.

"No, dumbie. That's at MID-day." Well how were YOU supposed to know the royal schedule of the crown prince, it wasn't just common knowlegde you learned from being a humble farmer's daught--

Ah!

"Will you STOP?!" You put your foot down. "Unless you're here to buy my apples, then you're not getting ANY, little Prince." Oh, shit. You gave him ideas. Now it was really over for you.

In less than half an hour, half a company of men arrived at the marketplace, asking about your little old apple stand, and sure enough, Jungkook had bought out the entire cart so that you were forced to help with the transaction.

The young prince had eyes frankly too big for his head, with the most prominent cupid's bow you've ever seen. His nose slightly outgrew his face and his ears were hidden away behind his short, black hair. "Now you can talk to me." He gave you a rose he'd stolen from the royal garden. "I am Jungkook, heir to the throne of--"

"I know who you are." You interrupt him, documenting His Highness' total in your calligraphy book.

With a hand perched on his chest from surprise, he scoffed. "And I happen to think you're really pretty, so I was going to ask you to be my very first consor--"

"You're 15, you have playmates not consorts."

"And how old are you?!" He's had it, raising his voice and taking a bite out of one of your apples with force.

"16, old enough to have suitors." You tease. Jungkook hangs his head a little. He just needed someone to talk to, it would seem. Reluctantly, you scribbled down your address down on a piece of note paper and handed it to him.

"Look, if you buy more of my apples, I'll have an excuse to tell my Dad so I can hang out with you." You spoke in a low voice as to not raise suspicion.

Your dad is standing negotiating with the guards about prices, his usual embarassing haggling gruffly overpowering the guards elegant twiddle-tones.

"Wonderful! See you soon, my sweet!" He resumes his confident demeanor, tucking the paper into his overcoat with a small smile. He salutes you boyishly and marches away with a year's supply of apples.

For the next week, the royal kitchen had baked 3 apple pies, made 5 fruit salads, 4 batches of apple muffins, and threw the rest of them in Sangria; that's the same Sangria as King Jeon finds himself drinking in his wife's drawing room on Sunday.

"Call Chef, fetch him up here." He waves to his assistant, keeping his eyes on the outside. He was deep in thought, his hands stoicly behind his back.

The Kingdom had been prosperous for over many years now, and war had not come close to threatening its borders in a lifetime. Negotiations were always successful, and quality of living was high. The work of a King, in a situation such as this, was to perfect the image of the royal family as strong rulers, and to paint his daughters as desirable to foreign heirs.

"Your Grace," the assistant called his attention, "Head Chef Sung." The dainty man bows and scurries off somewhere else.

Chef Sung is a portly man, who carries himself heaving with every step, his great belly inflating with each hefty inhale. He approaches the King, and kneels down to kiss his hand with his fat lips.

The King recoils in disgust, but quickly collects himself and his words. "Where are these apples from, is it France or Spain?" He demands.

"Neither, Your Highness." Mr.Sung lifts up his eyes. "They are from our Holy Kingdom; by order of Prince Jungkook, an entire cart was purchased of these apples and we have not been able to get rid of them." Tears threatened Chef Sungs eyes at the very mention of the fruit.

'Well, there's one thing the kid's done right.' King Jeon now faces the Chef, setting down his drink on a mahogany table, leaning against it casually. "Well! Good. I'd like to meet the owner of that cart, invite him to my Sunday brunch."

"Oh, yes, of course sir! You'll never see them in our kitchen aga--What?" Chef Sung takes out his handkerchief, waving it around in the air and drying his tears at once. "So you like them! Why...Yes! Yes, of course!"

Your father thought it would be valuable to have you around the kitchen, learning from the skilled men and women employed by the Jeon family. He only visited once a week to drop off fresh produce, (he'd been officially hired to handle restocking of goods) but you, after showing promising signs of being a gifted baker during one of your father's restocks, were granted scholarship by Ms.Kang to be her aid.

You were now, officially, a resident of the Jeon Estate, residing in the servant's quarters, immediately adjacent to the kitchen. This was convenient. It was far too convenient for a certain little Prince to get the idea of wanting a midnight snack and wandering downstairs.

One day, he does just that. He finds his way into the first bedroom to the right of the stairs facing the kitchen, and that happens to be your bedroom.

He pokes you awake. "Ow! Ow, whyyy~" You whine and toss yourself over to the other side of the bed. His irritating poking persists. You grab his fingers and your eyes shatter open.

You sit up, alarmed. "You could have me arrested, what the fuck are you doing?!"

"I wanted a midnight snack! Besides, I wanna talk to you." He pouts, still holding a small teddy companion.

"Fine. I'll bake you ONE sheet of cookies." You slip on your night shoes and shuffle to the kitchen, and Jungkook tags along.

By the time Jungkook's 18th birthday comes around, he's in the kitchen helping you whisk buttercream to top his cake while having a tease at the Austrian Princess' mole.

"You have one right under your lip, look!" You take a little buttercream from the bowl and stain the dark spot with it.

He licks it up and hastens to add, "it needs more sugar, lady!" as he turns to grab a puffy bag of confection sugar.

"You're impossible to please." Snatching the sugar away from him, you smirk. "You can gobble down as many sweets as you want when the ball commences. Remember, this is the year you're supposed to be keeping your eye out for a girl of a good fam--"

"Yada yada, must have hips for childbearing, yada yada yada..." He mocks the speech his mother had told him that morning when he got dressed.

"Exactly." You set your bowl aside to fix Jungkook's tie. "Yes, and that's your duty, as our heir."

You step back and examine Jungkook one more time. He'd grown so tall in the last year, his legs like spider's and he was just beginning to grow into his features. Handsome boy.

You, too, had grown into an elegant young woman. You had a poised complexion, ready-mannered and graceful. Your hands seemed out of place in your otherwise feminine frame, carrying an extra bit of girth from baking. You were 19 years old.

Marriage was becoming an uncomfortably frequent topic during your visits home, as your mother had married young, herself, she expected the same of you.

Truth be told, there were plenty of offers for your hand. You were a skilled and very esteemed individual, who had broken into thr artisinal class. But your father knew better than put a dowry on your happiness. So long as you worked, he saw no reason to marry you off just yet.

"Now, go. Your sisters must be worried sick! Go out there." You shoo him, pushing him out the door of the kitchen despite his flailing arms.

Throughout the party, you'd been carrying a platter of your own baked goods, serving them to the aristocrats attending the Princes' coming-of-age ball. Accents from all over Europe and some from Kingdoms as far East as Cyprus jubilantly engaged in artful conversation which filled the air with good spirits.

Jungkook, himself, was busy being introduced to as many women as possible, a medley of presenting duchesses, ladies, and even Princesses of your Kingdom. They were each more qualified than you'll ever be, ten-fold.

One was a Greek Princess, her hair cascaded in darling curls down her shoulders and her eyes were deep-set, her voice a flirtatious trill.

Another, a Prussian Princess', posture radiated excellency, and whose complexion sparkled like powdered snow. Jungkook greeted her warmly, pleased with her appearance.

Distracted, you tripped up your skirt and dropped the remainder of your pastries. With that, you stepped off to use the restroom.

The sound of Strauss' Rosen aus dem Süden faintly loomed in the air as you wiped tears from your waterline in the mirror. That was just the way it was, wasn't it? Princes come of age, and they find wives who they commit their lives to.

"Married men don't have friends who are girls." You say out loud, just to realize it. Jungkook was now expected to find a mate within the season, and he was, in fact, quite the eligible bachelor.

Little did you know that Jungkook had been keeping an eye out for you throughout the party, not only because you were carrying his favorite Danish pastires, but because he knew your company was his greatest comfort.

He's in the midst of greeting the Duchess of Kent when he excuses himself to go look for you. He finds your mess first, frowning as he realizes something has gone terribly wrong.

He catches you in the hallway, face puffy and shaky. He grabs your wrist to keep you from darting back to the kitchen.

"Please don't do this, it's my birthday, y/n." It's as if an unspoken rule had been broken between you, and he feels it. Something is making you uncomfortable. "Was it the girls? You told me about this, it's my duty to at least greet them and--"

"Yeah, you sure did greet the Prussian woman nicely." You speak through tears. "She's the girl you were born to be with, huh? Your birthright?"Jungkook is silent. "Every girl at that ball wants to be your wife, want to have your children. They haven't known you for a day and yet they're ready to be your bride."

You search Jungkook's eyes for any sign of coherence, hoping that he would defend against you, that he would speak up and tell you otherwise. No such argument comes.

You yank your arm from his grip and march to the kitchen to remake the pastries you spilled.

You had the job of clearing off all the tables upon the departure of the last guests. It is midnight, and the windows of the castle stream moonlight down on the carpet beneath your feet. The glow of candles soothe you as you hum the waltzes which echo in your mind. It's a brilliant evening.

The centerpieces of the tables were gardenias, lush rose-like flowers with yellow pistils.

Summer, 1809

"Jungkook, wait! You're going to make me trip!" You shout from the top of the hill.

"You've gotta come see before the sun sets! It's the only way we'll get there on time, now run!" Jungkook's speeding down the terrain towards the Sycamore tree which grew deep and wide beneath the banks of a great rushing river.

You groan and throw caution to the wind, rolling down the steep mount in your Sunday dress. Jungkook turns to watch you, a grin spreading across his handsome face. "Look at you!"

You land on your feet at the bottom and scurry off to join Jungkook under the grandfather tree, out of breath entirely. "Now, look what you made me do. You're such a boy, you know that?! Making me come out here just to see some bloody--"

Jungkook has plucked a gardenia and placed it behind your ear. "Would you shut up? We got here on time. Behold."

In all its glory, the sun bathes you in its vivacious rays, creating a feeling of heavenly bliss as it dips below the horizon. The sky blushes pink, its clouds mere whisps above you. Wind rustles the leaves of the grand tree, rousing the birds to chirp their afternoon song.

"Mom used to come here all the time with my Dad, because of these." Jungkook clasped the blooming flower in his tender hands.

After a while, he says "the bugs will come out soon, so we ought to go back," as if he's trying not to scare something away. He helps you up, and with one last look across the valley, you walk next to each other back to the East Quarters.

You take all the silverware and plates by the tub to the dish-washing station and toss all of the linen napkins into the washing machine. All you had left was to blow out the lights in leading upstairs.

"Prince! It is very late, and there are no guests left for you to entertain. What troubles you?" Jungkook's sitting on the stairs with his head in his hands, still wearing his best suit.

"I disappointed you, y/n...I didn't like any of them." He admits, lifting his head up to sulk at you. "I should have told you then, but I didn't want to make you upset!"

Did Jungkook mistake your jealousy for disappointment?

"I'm not upset because you didn't hit it off with the girls..." You sigh. A confession is due, and he's ready to hear the truth from you about how you feel about him.

"Well, the truth is, I didn't like any of the girls because I like you, y/n. But you know that, don't you?" You pause, asking him to elaborate.

"Remember when I bought all the apples because I wanted to be with you? Like...I told you that you were my consort and I kind of meant it?" He felt pathetic now, realizing that you weren't just ignoring his advances. "So you didn't friendzone me for 2 years, you actually didn't know that I liked you."

It was almost laughable, a situation you would read in one of your illegal novels which you kept tucked away in your pillow at night. "No, Kookie, I didn't." You admit to your insolence.

You can't bear to lead him on any longer. You needed to put duty over your own self interest for the sake of the kingdom, even if it shattered his hope. It was better this way.

"But, you do know that we can't ever be a thing, right? It's just silly." Your heart tightens with the words which fall out of your mouth. "It is. Nevermind what your parents would think, what would it do for your image? You're on the world's stage, Jungkook, and you're a selfish person if you think you can just throw all of your duties away to date a scum of the Earth like-- like me!" With your heart in your throat, dry your eyes with your sleeve. "And...I want to, I really really want to, more than anything else to love you, Jungkook. I love you! I...can't." Through the blur of your tears, the shapeless blob that Jungkook has become stands up.

Taking his thumb and swiping it under your eyes, he sighs. Words escaping him, he takes your trembling body against his chest and nestles his head in the crook of your neck. Your cold hands travel underneath his overcoat to hold his waist. The Princes' lips plant a gentle kiss on your neck, chaste yet deep and satisfying.

"I will not accept any bride if not you, my love." He draws back, meeting your fervid gaze. "To the world, I remain a bachelor for a few years."

"And after those years, Jungkook?" You ride your hands up to caress the man's jaw. "You will still love me after those years, and then what?"

"I don't know," he says, voice as soft as powder. "I don't know many things, y/n, that's why I need you to teach me." His palms are rubbing at your waist, beckoning you closer.

His breath quickening as you lean your body against his hold, and you figure it must be the wine he drank to calm his nerves. That was it, wasn't it? He was drunk.

"You're not drunk, are you?" Your face sours, really hoping it's not the case as you feel your body temperature rise.

"Y/N, I've only had a glass. You saw I was a wreck back there." His lips kept chasing yours in a dance you can't quite describe. "I have wanted to hold you like this since I saw you selling apples on the street. Give me the honor..." His forehead against yours and his strong hands supporting your back, he's already fucking you with his eyes.

"The pleasure of being your lover." He squeezes your waist tight with his forearms, planting brisk kisses behind your ear and breathing in your scent. He smiles against you. Your skin pebbles at his affectionate touch, purring softly as your eyes roll back in delight.

"Kookie..." You breathe, leaning on his broad chest. "Kook, the maids are wondering where I am, I have to go..." You slur, tugging at his collar.

He grunts in protest, taking your ear between his teeth and nibbling it.

"If you let me go, I'll steal some cake for you tomorrow at breakfast." If there's anything Jungkook likes more than Cream Ice, it was cake. He unravels you from his arms and nods, his eyes softening.

"Request my service tomorrow, from Ms.Kang. She's been sweet on me lately." You peck his cheek before stepping back. Your rouge has embarrassingly stained His Grace's cheek.

Jungkook bows and presses a kiss on your hand, eyes rising to meet yours. "Til' morrow, babe."

Jiyoo shakes you awake the next morning, handing you a cake and a note that reads: "Prince Jungkook has a commission he must discuss with you. Meet him at his chamber immediately."

Lacing on a simple corset over your nightgown, you try not to look too red in the face as you climb up the stairs to His Majesty's room. You'd be up there alone, as requested. The girls would absolutely start rumors based on that alone-- rumors which you realize are probably totally true. This was stuff of scandal, after all...

'There shouldn't be anything scandalous about love.' You decide as you rap on His Highness' door.

"Please enter...but only if you have my cake!" Jungkook says in his morning voice. He's so cute.

The simplicity of Jungkook's abode takes you by surprise. His bedroom is very well lit, a capital display of the flowered valley through his bay windows washed the room in gold, painting his porcelain white carpets and his cotton sheets a warm creme color. His drawers and vanity were etched in gold, with breathtaking detailing.

The Monarch himself was splayed across the bed, laying on his side casually. He held a glass in his hand, holding a white wine. He puts down his glass and sits up as your presence.

"We both know that you didn't come here as my servant." You lock the door behind you. "And I have no such commission to give you, darling." The innocence which undertones his usual speech is missing as he coaxes you towards him.

"This much I know, Your Majesty," You say, taking a bit of frosting on your index finger and smudging it on the Princes lips. His black eyes, as cunning as a viper, watch you dangerously as you push two fingers past his plush lips. He wraps his hands around your wrist and draws your hand away, his gaze fixating on you.

"Set the cake down." At his command, you carefully place the confection down on a nearby chest, feeling Jungkook's eyes on you, drawing you back towards his grip.

"Let me pull your laces apart," with your waist held by his Herculean hand, he hums "and then let me pull you apart. I want to memorize your pleasures and gratify your desires, I need it, y/n..." Your back flush against his chest and your thighs split, his hands knead into you as he litters your collar with his mark.

You gasp softly against the crook of his neck, giving into his hold of you. His hot tongue spreads under your jaw, closing into a hard kiss as his hands travel back up to undo your corset and free your tits.

One by one, his fingers pop open the buttons left on your gown until the collar hangs off-shoulder to expose your collarbone. At the sight of new skin, Jungkook's tongue darts to stain it.

His hands stagger above your breasts. "Is it okay if I touch you here?"

"Oh, Kookie, touch me everywhere~" Your hands form fists around Jungkook's shirt, beckoning him impossibly closer.

Grasping one ever so carefully, his thumb grazes your bud as he playfully bites under your ear. "ah-- ahh,"

Jungkook groans in response, he can't believe how cute you sound. Curious, he wants to hear more, so he traces your thighs and experimentally pushes up the outside your cunt.

You squirm, tensing up immediately in response. You bring your hands down to find the latch on his trousers and dip your hands below to rub him through his undergarments. He heatedly bucks up to meet your touch, a panting mess.

You face him now as he watches you ride his fingers while you grip his girth through his clothes. He takes you by the ass and places you on his prominent bulge, hips rolling into you as he hungrily kisses you, his firm hands grinding your core on his cock.

His face is a sinful red, panting under you desperately.

"I've been wanting to do this," His voice warbles through your touch, running your thumb along his underside. It's his turn to gasp. He sits up and collapses his lips into yours, softer than rose petals and his taste faintly like wine.

You place your hand on his chest, and his heart is pounding, a thin layer of sweat already forming on his honeylike complexion.

Hastily, you pull your dress over your head and lean back to allow him to familiarize himself with your stark form, a dainty chain hanging between your bosom. Jungkook bites his lips as he wriggles out of his clothing, desposing of it beside the bed.

He's giddy behind those sultry eyes, you know him well enough that he's overexcited to get inside of you. It goes straight to his cock, your playfulness as you feel up his bare shoulders and discover his abdominals, your fingers tracing his ridges with a sense of innocent wonder.

He takes your hands and looks at you in this way-- Butterflies fill your stomach instantly. Jungkook's thumbing at your pout with his intrepid fingers.

His eyes flutter when grip his base and submerge your upper body below his hips. You lick a long, thick stripe up his underside, causing his breath to hitch and his head to fall back on to the bed.

Those goddamn cupid's bow lips of his would whisper the dirtiest things under his breath, lewd thoughts that sounded completely alien coming from His Majesty's mouth, he said for you.

"Oh, such a pretty mouth~ It's so good, y/n, you swallow me so good--" he moaned like a mantra, trying to keep his hips from snapping up into you. Your hot, wet tongue wrapped around his throbbing cock was only a fantasy to him for years.

He fills your throat with his girth, his taste tantalizingly smooth. It leaves your mouth with a 'pop.' You struggle to keep your legs apart as you crawl up to kiss him.

He takes those fingers of his and slides his index and middle into you and languidly thrusts them, smirking against your lips. "Shit, you liked that, hmm..."

"Kookie...please," you whine as he squeezes your ass hard before smacking it. You yelp, the sting of his fingers radiating from your skin.

"I like it when you beg, y/n, it's so cute..." He pulls your ass up to his thighs. He's flush hard against your abdomen, already sticky with his precum and your spit. You marvel at the self control he has.

You don't finish your thought before he has his head inside of you, impaling you on his cock and stretching your entrance, hissing at how incredible it felt to have you around him.

His shaft reached pleasure points within you had yet to discover. You clench, feeling his tip brush against your cervix. "Wh... hngh," he groans, "how did you do that, do it again--" You wrap your legs around his thighs and clench around him, biting your lip. You watch as he shivers from pleasure, feeling his skin horripilate under your touch.

His thumb is softly circling above your clit as he pulls out of you carefully. He swirls back in, nestling himself inside your heat, hissing. "Ahh~ Jungkook~!" At the sound of his first name moaned out of your mouth, he groans and rolls his hips up to create messy friction. That familiar knot in your stomach tingles as he plays with the bundle of nerves buried within you.

He glances up at your ruined lips, clashing with them again as he lifts your knees up with his hands and thrusts nice and rough, making you yell with every jolt of his cock. The smell and sound of sex fills the room as he experiments with positions, laying you on all fours.

"Get your ass up for me." You obey, ever servile. You're reminded-- you're his servant. He owns your work, he owns your services, and now he wants you in the most lucrative way, he wants your soaked cunt around his imperial cock. He gets what he wants.

Jungkook's palms smack against your ass one more time, just to watch the way it jiggles for him. He smirks a little before he shoves himself into your pretty little cunt. You bury your face into the pillows in pelasure as he chases your orgasm with vigor, fingering your clitoris while you move your hips back to meet his hard thrusts.

You whine like a harlot, his cock allowing you every satisfaction as he works a head-spinning orgasm out of that cunt. "I'm gonna cum, Kookie~!" you warn as you spasm against his length, moans ripping from your throat as you coat him with your thick juices.

His hips stutter up and he just barely pulls himself completely from you as he paints your back white, a guttural groan escaping his mouth.

After a while of loud panting and scattered giggling, Jungkook reaches over for a wet cloth and cleans the both of you gingerly. You trail your hands up to caress his jaw and kiss his lips softly.

"You need to tell everyone that I had a long and extensive request for the Harvest party, that I wanted a lot of fall fruits and vegetables featured in the baked goods, make it as specific as possible and make sure that you mention that I want to meet with you again, over dinner." His labored breathing punctuate his words, as youd kisses consume him. "And..."

"And?" You cock an eyebrow, simpering.

"Doyouthinkmaybeyoucouldbringmesomemilktogowithmycake?" He mumbles, eyes glued on the bed.

"What?" (If you give a Kookie a Cookie...)

Disgruntled, he sighs and repeats: "Milk! Milk for my cake. I know it's moist cause you made it but I'm really thirsty, especially after..." His cheeks flush a cute pink. You wait for him to continue just to fluster him a little more. "Y/N, just please!" You can't ever refuse his pouty face.

Next week, Jungkook's got you pinned against the hallway wall, making out with you hungrily as his hands ride up your dress. Just across the hall, his Dad is negotiating war with Portugal over land in the West.

The next month, you have his cock buried in your throat underneath the table at an important conference about how to create jobs.

All this while the pressure for Jungkook to find a bride continues to rise as he reaches seniority, and as his father's grey hairs pronounce themselves.

Warm touches are always hidden away to the public eye, but often shared between two kindred spirits underneath the man in the moon's watchful eye. Jungkook, as he reaches his maturity, grows strong. His jaw sharpens, and his eyes darken. His hair grows long, and he gains weight. Now at the proud age of 20, Jungkook had become a man before everyone's eyes, including the eyes of foreign monarchs and their eligible bachelorettes.

One day, you're serving the Royal family at a private dinner, when the topic of marriage comes up for the first time since his birthday.

"Your mother has made friends with the mother of the Austrian Princess, and she's invited you to the cordial ball to introduce yourself to the Princess. An allyship with Austria would prove advantageous for our relations with France, so you are to make your best impression." The King wipes his mouth. Setting his fork down, he continues: "It is in the family's best interest for you to marry her, if the French Princess, Anastasie, does not present this season or the next." The Queen holds the King's hand firmly, reassuring him from his shoulder. She wears a slight frown on her face, her eyes worrisome, somber. The King hides his anxiety, as he's been accustomed to from decades of responsibility. Would this be the face of Jungkook soon?

For now, Jungkook's face is scrunching at the thought of marrying Anastasie. She's not the most delightful young woman, her imprudence ruined her enjoyment of any event. She couldn't keep an intuitive conversation about regional politics and domestic policy for the life of her. Her people were on the brink of overthrowing the aristocracy, he was sure of it.

"Yes, father," is what you hear from him before you disappear down the stairs to fetch desserts.

Jiyoo interrupts your quest for sweets with a letter, signed by His Grace. She has a naturally innocent demeanor, her cheeks rosy and her frame as delicate as a feather. "Y/N, you have another special request from His Majesty...can I ask you why you get so many of these?" She looks genuinely curious, not a single menacing thought behind those eyes.

"It's because the Prince really really loves his cake." I mean, technically it was true. Jungkook never passed up an opportunity to squeeze, smack, or dig his fingernails into your ass during your sessions.

"Oh." Jiyoo pouts. "So it's not because you're like, in love or anything?" Her eyes are glued to the floor. You were expecting this question eventually, as the other girls in the kitchen were already suspecting it. It was only a matter of time before word slipped into the girl's ears.

"As much as I enjoy the Prince's interest in my baking, it isn't my place to confess any sort of feeling for him." Your answer is straightforward enough, so Jiyoo nods and hands you the letter. Another request.

Outside the Palace, Winter came like the wind. Lakes froze over, and couples tied up their skates and danced on the ice. The trees were bare and brown, not a single leaf persisting through the chilling breath of Jack Frost.

Jungkook had left for the Winter Palace, to volunteer and raise spirits up in the North. As heir to the throne, he was to be Commander in Chief of the Royal Armed Forces, and therefore needed to undergo intensive training in order to boost morale.

You're back home, and in your wake is your father, who has now grown tangibly tired. He's been on a strict diet of warm vegetable soup for about three months, now. His eyes are sunken, but he still wears a subtle smile even during his most trying days.

Match girls make their rounds at night, you watch as the lamplighters illuminate the streets with their tall ladders and their taller peacoats. Shop windows glow warm shades of yellow and creme; inscriptions on the glass create shadows on the white snow.

"Wow. It's almost as cold as the King's heart out here." You step outside one day with a cup of tea, sneaking in a cheeky smirk. Yeah, good one.

"I heard that!" You turn towards the little voice. A child, maybe about 9 or 10 years old is pointing at you. You squint at it.

"Well, it's true..." You mumble. You have a bit of change in your pocket, so you walk towards a stand to buy a hot bun and a paper.

"Chilly today, hon...Best you take this on the house." The tenant hands you a steaming cake wrapped in a simple cloth and your paper. You stick the paper in your dress pocket and take back your change. You nod a 'thank you.'

You spill the contents of your pockets on the dining table and snatch the paper, snapping it open. Your eyes eagerly skim the headline: "Prince Jungkook Fires Up Royal Army." Below is an article detailing the happenings of His Majesty. All of it sounded very intense, the running, strategizing, first aid training...Was there anything Prince Jeon couldn't nail on the first try?

You set the paper down and pick up your now lukewarm tea. In the back of your mind you're coping with the fact that the Spring Solstice is next week, and that marks the beginning of Jungkook's last season as a Prince.

The King is ill with tuberculosis, and recovery is unlikely. If Jungkook is to marry, it is next season and that was final.

Sitting at the window of his Winter Castle study, Jungkook plays with a ring nestled between his fingers. He looks out onto the lake, as if he's trying to reach you with his gaze. His heart is tight knowing that it would be the season he chooses his bride. Actually, he'd already made up his mind long ago. If his duty was to marry, there was no way to evade such a responsibility. He had to fulfill it, despite his anxieties.

He straightens up and walks out of the hollow room with a firm step.

You awaken with the sound of horse's hooves thudding against the Earth. It is yet to be dawn, and in the distance, thunder roars mightily.

A figure wearing a long, black hood hoists itself off of the animal, tying it to a nearby post. It walks towards an obscure entrance, unknown to many staff.

Intrigued, you wrap a blanket around yourself and peek out at the stranger. His fingers are shorter than his palms, and that's when he tosses of his hood, his eyes set on you. "Y/N..."

You're bewildered by his guise, questions filling your head.

"I was horny, so I left camp" He sits down at the counter, catapulting a cookie into his mouth.

You roll your eyes. "And the guards let you?! Jungkook!" You whisper-yelled at him, readjusting your makeshift blanket-dress.

"Obviously not!" He puffed out his chest with pride. "I bribed them," he smirks.

"You're insufferable," you scoff, your eyes wandering down to observe his physique. His shirt is anything but conservative, highlighting the muscle he'd earned through laborious, sweat-inducing drills. You can feel his eyes on your face as you observe him.

"You can't hide it either," he crosses his arms. "You're standing in the kitchen with a blanket around your naked body." He flicks his tongue. He steps forward, putting a finger under your jaw so you're looking him in the eye.

Your eyes fill with lust as he speaks over your lips. "Look at yourself..." A crash is heard in the other room.

Jungkook's head darts up and in a flash, he disappears into the night.

'Fuck.' You gather your dress from the floor and shuffle back to your chamber.

The first event of the season commences with the most exaltant of spirits as friends of old greet each other with youthful smiles. Juicy exposés, enticing tales, and thoughtful greetings are exchanged in the most formal manner, and the conversation is lively; the most controversial topic of conversation, however, is the rumor that Jungkook is to marry this season.

So far, he's been to four different private residences within his own Kingdom and has been invited, by the secretary of King Louis XVII to meet their daughter. It would be an understatement to say that stakes were high for the pending King.

You were kneading your dough a little too hard thinking about it. "Not so rough, y/n!" Ms.Kang snatches the mixture from your hands. "What is up with you lately, you're so tense! It's really disrupting the kitchen's dynamic."

You shrug it off. "It's going to be hard sedating Anastasie's sweet tooth, I suppose."

"Well, you seem to be doing just fine dealing with Jungkook's addiction to cakes...She's perfect for him, really." Ms.Kang throws more flour on your kneading table and steps off. You give up on the dough, covering it with a cloth and letting it rise.

Jungkook is tapping his feet, munching on finger sandwiches as he waits on you to make an appearance.

"Dearest Prince, look, I am wearing Mediterranean violet!" A duchess shouts as she passes by him, to which he raises his eyebrows at. Another, with dark green eyes approaches and begins speaking rapidly in French at him. Frightened and undereducated, his canned response was: "Excusez-moi, Pouvez-vous répéter plus lentement s'il vous plaît," to which the duchess furrows her eyebrows before something else catches her attention, elsewhere.

Truth is, Jungkook is incredibly shaken at the thought of announcing his engagement tonight. Well, that and the fact that you had yet to pop out of the kitchen. Man, those finger sandwiches were good.

As the night progresses, Jungkook realizes that if he doesn't get up on that platform and say what he needed to say, he'd have to say it in London. Setting his fears aside, he plants himself on top of the orchestral stage and taps a champagne glass with a cheese fork. The music comes to a stop.

With conviction, he begins: "The time has come that I announce my engagement. To all of my beloved friends, who have introduced me to the most beautiful, talented, diverse, and benevolent ladies I've come to get to know over the years, I thank you from the depths of my soul." He swallows and continues, his confident voice masking his trembling. "The life of a Prince is defined by the virtues presented to him at birth. Those virtues are: duty, responsibility, grace, kindness, mercy and integrity." Here comes the part, oh shit.

"I am abdicating my throne to my Cousin, the Duke of Namseong."

Silence sweeps the room. You poke your head out to see what was going on.

"...to marry the love of my life, y/n." He points at you. Your face is cherry red, and you find yourself dropping those same Danish fucking pastries all over the carpet.

"Shit," you fall on your knees, plucking them from the ground one by one. You don't know whether to run as fast as you can or to present yourself, but your body seems to be currently doing the latter. You go along with it.

Jungkook takes your hand tenderly on the stage. "I am unable to perform my duties as King, and therefore am ineligible for the throne." His touch gives you the will to continue beside him. You feel the pure fear rushing through your love's veins, and he knows that this is the hardest thing he'll ever have to do, yet he stands by his announcement.

So, if Jungkook doesn't get to be King of this World, he at least will forever be the King of Your Heart.

But all this, of course...is all in Your, dear reader, Head.

~

a/n:

hope you enjoyed.

#angst #bts #crack fic #for fun #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader fluff #jungkook x reader smut #kpop #bts au #royalty!au #prince!au #prince!jungkook #forbidden love #bts fic #bts fanfic #jungkook crack #pining #oneshot #i am actually terrified of posting the oneshot #jungkook has a sweetooth #x reader #bts x reader #body worship kink

[wonderlandleighleigh]

Can we have more of Gordon Ford being an asshole (to whatever degree you want to write?) I'd like to cement this negative characterization in the fandom's brain before we see literally anything significant from him.

I actually just wrote this the other day. It's a long one because I'm hoping it'll be a bigger story, but here ya go!

Jealousy isn’t something Lenny is too acquainted with these days. Obviously as a concept, he knows it. He’s felt it before (he married a stripper, after all. It happens), but these days, in his thirties, he generally doesn’t get head up about it.

He thought.

But seeing Gordon fucking Ford wrap an arm around Midge brings on that old, long-forgotten feeling of boiling blood and gritted teeth. 

He plays it cool, obviously. Lighting a cigarette and taking a slow puff as he chats with some reporters. Doing Gordon Ford’s show is a matter of course these days, to hype any project, and he’s got a run of big-ticket shows here in New York coming up. 

Midge is the house comedian. And Ford apparently thinks that makes her his girlfriend. 

Midge’s face says otherwise; that she’s trying to extricate herself without making a scene; that she does not want that man touching her. That she just wants to get this round of interviews over with so Lenny can take her out for a late dinner and then take a walk on a nice April night. 

“And what do you think of Midge Maisel?” the reporter asks. 

Lenny grins. “Other than being one of the funniest women out there right now, she’s also one of the kindest, and she’s drop dead gorgeous.” 

The reporter looks surprised. “Are you two an item?” 

Lenny’s grin widens. “Ask me tomorrow.” 

***** 

“I have an idea,” he tells her as they sit down to dinner. He’d picked somewhere a little more public; a little more trendy, and Midge looks excited, taking in the place. It’s certainly not one of their usual haunts. 

“Okay,” she says, turning to look at him. 

Lenny smiles and takes her hand. “You fucking hate when Gordon Ford decides to get handsy.” 

Her smile falls. “It’s getting a little aggressive,” she admits. “When I started it was an arm graze - which - whatever. Then it wrapped around my shoulder. Okay, maybe he’s friendly. But now it keeps snaking around my waist, and it’s been getting closer and closer to my ass. And look, I have a great ass, but he could at least buy me a drink first.” 

“Or,” Lenny smirks. 

“Or what?” she asks, tilting her head. “That look is a naughty look, Mr. Bruce.” 

“Or, Mr. Bruce and Mrs. Maisel could make things official,” he says. “And let the whole world know that we are an actual, honest-to-god, goes out to dinner, puts the kids to bed together couple, and Gordon Ford can fuck off.” 

Midge smiles slowly. “You want to be a real couple.” 

“It’s probably about time,” he shrugs. “We’ve been sneaking around since January.” 

“You’re jealous,” she surmises. 

“I most certainly am not.” 

She keeps smiling at him. It’s an infuriating smile. He loves it. He hates it. Ugh. 

“You’re jealous that I work on Gordon’s show and he’s around all the time,” Midge says.

“...I don’t like the way he looks at you,” Lenny admits. “And you don’t like it either, may I point out. This would solve both our problems.” 

She raises an eyebrow. “Are you ready for that level of public scrutiny? They’re gonna label us a ‘comedy power couple,’ they’re gonna follow us around with cameras, they’re gonna make up crazy stories about us.” 

“Ah, I’ve been outta the papers too long,” he jokes. “I’ve been too good a boy.” 

“Our managers are both going to lose their minds,” Midge reminds him. “Susie was happy to keep this quiet.” 

“Fuck ‘em,” Lenny waves a hand. “I’d rather kiss you in public and watch Ford wriggle like a worm on the hook.” 

Midge smirks as she looks past him at the door. “You’re in luck.” 

He lifts an eyebrow. “Oh, am I?” 

“Mhm. He just walked in with his buddies.”  

“A fortuitous turn of events.” 

She grins, leaning in. Her eyes are shifting between his own and behind him, where Ford and his asshole friends are. “How do you wanna play this?”

“What?” 

“Light kiss? Slow? Steamy? What’s the tacti-” 

The kiss is slow and soft, and tender. Like they’ve been doing this for three months. 

Which they have. 

He vaguely registers some chatter around them, but he likes focusing on Midge much more. He doesn’t care how red Ford’s face is, or if there are reporters fumbling for paper and pen. 

There’s just Midge. 

He ends it by shifting his lips to her cheek. “How’s that for tactics?” he asks softly. 

“Hm?” she asks dreamily, blinking at him.

Lenny grins. “How’s our friend doing?” 

“Oh,” Midge sits up, clearing her throat. “He looks pretty unhappy.” 

“Perfect. You hungry?” 

“Starving.” 

*****

“Tell me what this is.” 

Midge blinks down at the photo of her and Lenny kissing in the newspaper. “Just enough tongue to be indecent but not enough to get us thrown out of the restaurant.” 

“Miriam!” Susie cries. “I thought you two weren’t gonna make your relationship a bid deal!” 

“Well, things changed,” Midge tells her. “And once my sandwich gets here, I will explain.” 

“Explain now.” 

“Susie, I promise it’s gonna be fine. Nothing is different.” 

“Except that the entire world thinks you got where you are by fucking Lenny Bruce,” Susie grouses. 

“They already thought that.” 

“You didn’t have to give ‘em confirmation!” 

Midge takes a deep breath. “We found it inconvenient to keep sneaking around.” 

“Inconvenient how?” Susie demands. “Your parents already know. His mother knows. I know, and his manager knows. Why do this?” 

“To get Gordon Ford to back off,” Midge tells her. 

Susie goes quiet. 

“Susie-” 

“I’ll kill him,” she says simply. “I’ll rip his balls out through his throat.” 

“Nothing happened,” she assures her. “But…it was starting to head in that direction, so Lenny and I…decided to make things a little more overt.” 

“A little?!” Susie grabs the paper. “Miriam. This is not a little.” 

“Everyone who’s seen me on Gordon’s show knows I’m talented,” Midge argues. “Dating Lenny publicly doesn’t change that.” 

Susie groans. “Fine. Fine. Okay. Fine. You’re public. Fine. Great. We’ll just- hope this doesn’t bite us in the ass.” 

***** 

David Fidel is a good manager. Understanding. Very patient. Lenny is lucky to have him. But he can be a pain in the ass. 

“This is…actually great,” Dave nods. “This is the most innocuous thing you’ve ever been in the papers for. It’s downright fucking adorable, to be honest.” 

“Gee, thanks.” 

“I mean, kissing the girl you’ve been seeing for months in public can’t get you arrested or blacklisted from a club. I will take it.” 

“You’re too excited.” 

“Hey! You’ve got that gig next week in Harlem. Let’s get her a reserved table.” 

“Dave-”

“And I’ll schedule a late breakfast for the two of you for the next day!” 

“Oh, jesus.” 

“This is gonna be the most adorable thing you’ve ever done,” Dave promises. “Or I’ll die trying to make it be.” 

“God, I hate you.” 

Dave picks up the phone. “Bonnie! Make sure there’s a reserved table for Midge Maisel at Lenny’s next show, and make sure there’s a rose settled there.” 

“Fuck you, Dave.” 

Dave grins at him. “Her favorite color is pink, right? Bonnie! Make it a pink rose.” 

Lenny rubs his eyes and wishes he could throw himself out the window.

***** 

Midge gets ready for the show the next night, turning around and coming face-to-face with Gordon. 

“Whoa!” she yelps. “Hi, Gordon. Ready to break a leg tonight?” 

“Sure,” he says, watching her as she turns back to the mirror to fix her makeup. “I uh…saw the whole thing with Lenny Bruce.” 

She smiles, mostly to herself. 

“How long has that been going on?” Ford asks awkwardly. 

“Well, we danced around it for a long time,” she shrugs. “Years, actually. But we officially started dating at New Years, and we decided to keep it quiet. You know how the press can be. But…” she sighs heavily for effect. “We’ve been getting tired of the sneaking around.” 

“Oh. Well. Good for you. I guess.” 

#fic #tmmm #Midge/Lenny #Midge x Lenny #au #Let's make Gordon Ford an asshole

[sagegr33n]

Can you make a mha story - angsty, based off the song "What a Time" by Julia Michaels? But it can also be fluffy at the end if you choose. That's it, that's the ask 💖

ok so this fic is based off of this song and the song marry me buy Thomas Rhett and also heatwaves by glass animals ! I'm feeling rather devious so there will be no fluff here , just angst , lovers to strangers/friends and a lot of tension. The story switches perspectives from the readers to dekus a lot.

Tittle -What a time

Fandom - My hero Academia

Genre -Angst, semi pinning, Requited unrequited love.

Pairing- Izuku x fem reader

Cw- Non race specified but there is body descriptions, heavy angst, hurt absolutely no comfort, no happy ending , lovers' to strangers ,no smut, katsukixreader.

Summary- You and Izuku Midoriya had betrothed yourselves to each other as young lovers before he left U. A . Upon Your estranged lover's return he discovers that you've moved on.

I feel a little nauseous and my hands are shaking, I guess that means you're close by.

Izuku knows he has no business showing up in Musutafu. Least of all on your doorstep.

He's still not sure why he is here right now, or what he's going to say when you open the door now that he rang the bell but he can hear you coming and he hopes he can make something up quickly.

" I was just in the neighborhood and I wanted to say hi ."

"I know it's been years but I'm in town, how have you been?"

" I'm still in love with you."

He doesn't have any more time to think as the wooden door creaks open, your head peeking out, visibly taken back as you stare at the man in front of you.

There's a moment of uncomfortable silence before you throw your arms around him in that way you used to do when you were kids face buried in his chest and for a moment, he feels as if despite everything the two of you will be ok.

A familiar voice sends him crashing back down to reality.

"Well if it isn't shitty Deku, you gonna stand outside or ya gonna come in ?"

Midoriya wants to ask what the fuck Katsuki's doing in your house -or better yet why his hand is snaking across your lower back - but he doesn't-its not his place anymore.

He really shouldn't come inside, just like he really shouldn't have back home, still he plasters the best fake smile he can manage and lets the two of you lead him inside.

My throat is getting dry and my heart is racing.

You were expecting a neighbor, a package, anything that wasn't Izuku Midoriya.

Yet there he stood on your front doorstep in all his absent glory.

You had wanted to scream, hit him, ask him what right he had coming back after ghosting you for so long. smack him across the face, and somehow you still found yourself wrapping your arms around him.

It didn't matter how many years had passed you were still the stupid girl you were when he left.

" I was just back in town, wanted to stop by and see how you- The green-haired man's eyes flicker from you to Bakugou - you guys were doing ."

" Were fine we were just - working on a project - a nursery" You say cringing at the sound of your voice,

"Your expecting" The hurt in his voice almost makes you feel bad but there's a small part of you-a a shameful part that revels in it.

Knowing that you've somehow hurt him.

"Trying" You correct.

"Hey, the agency called me in to fill in for shitty hairs shift. That dumb fuck got injured on patrol"

Your stomach turns at the thought of being alone with him but you still scurry off to kiss your fiancé on the cheek like a doting girlfriend should, waving as you see him out, dreading having to go back and face him, but walking back to the living room anyways.

"So you and Katsuki huh." You're taken back at how quickly he brought it up.

"Yeah after you left me-Musutafu, We got closer." You choke out, wandering off to the kitchen to busy yourself with making drinks, washing dishes, anything to put off having the conversation you had dreaded for years.

"Close enough to have a kid?" He whispered

He's following you now. probably thinks you couldn't hear it - but you did.

"Like that's any of you're fucking business " You snap, turning around to face him for the first time in what felt like centuries.

I haven't been by your side in a minute, But sometimes I think about it.

He knows he's gone too far. Knows it's not his place to be here right now or question who you've been fucking around with.

But he can't help it.

The feeling of betrayal that courses through his veins as He studies the stupid framed pictures of you and Katsuki at the beach, at the carnival, camping. The way his mind screams that it should have been him.

" You're right" I just always thought -He stops clearing his throat- "Always thought we'd end up together."

He can see the way your bodies tense and you turn back around, making your way to the fridge.

"I think everyone thought before you ran away Izuku," You say, the coldness in your voice sending shivers down his spine.

"I didn't fucking- I didn't runaway y/n" Izuku hisses. voice rising

"Yes the fuck you did, you ran away, and now you pissed at me because I didn't fucking wait for you."

It's half true. Sometimes He stays awake at night thinking about how different everything would have been if he never left, or you saved yourself for him.

Sometimes all he thinks about is you.

" Look Midoriya, why are you here ?" you ask slamming the fridge, seems to have to give up on whatever imaginary thing you were looking for.

" I just thought you should know I never forgot our promise.

Even though it's not that distant, oh no I still reminiscence it.

You remember the promise too.

You had been fucking idiots back then. Dreaming fantastical dreams and making outlandish promises that you now know neither of you could have ever kept.

I think of that night in the park it was getting dark and we stayed up for hours.

Of course, you still fucking remembered.

You would never forget that night in the park. It had been years ago, but you still remembered it like it had happened earlier today,

A few weeks before he ran away Izuku had knocked on your window in the middle of the night, smiling like an idiot as he told you to follow him, grab his hand -that he would hold you on the climb down. Laughing at the way you were afraid of falling.

"Don't you trust me?" He had asked

You did trust him.

against your better judgment, you let him pick you up and hoist you out of the window, screeching a little as he pivoted of the side of your house and onto the ground.

The two of you wondered about the neighborhood for a while before stopping at some park up the street from your house, Settling on a swing.

He had kissed you for the first time that night on the swings- it had been awkward and amazing all at once. the type of thing you never forget.

You'd Cling to my body like you'd wanted it forever

That night if he had wanted to go further you would have let him.

It's what everyone expected- what you expected of boys his age-to try to hit all the bases with you and there were parts of you that wanted to do it too - to cross that line with him.

instead of trying to talk you out of your panties he had grabbed your hand and promised you he'd come back for you.

You hadn't been sure what he meant back then and when you had tried to ask he told you not to worry about it, only that you needed to promise him that you would wait for him.

You had. Because in your stupid teenage mind you believed that nothing could separate you. No distance or time.

You had been wrong.

When you had received the same letter everyone else at U. A had, vaguely explaining his disappearance, you had thought you would him being gone for a few days would be fine. But the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months and the months into years, it had got to the point where if it weren't for the news reports detailing the latest feat of the new symbol of peace-you weren't sure if he was even alive.

What a time, What a time, What a time, For you and I

"You didn't wait for me Izuku finally says" Feeling the weight of too many years start to lift off of his shoulders.

"Well, it's not like you ever came back" You whisper. " And I did wait"

Your voice is cracking and he's sure you are about to start crying but you keep going anyway, He can tell you've waited far too long to get this off your chest.

" Do you know what it was like to reserve yourself for someone you don't even know is fucking alive - spending all your time worrying about someone who never even bothered to call but had no problem showing up years fucking later and acting as you owe him something.

" I wanted to - I wanted to talk to you but

"If you wanted to you would" You cut him off.

"You don't know what you put me through, how crazy I looked waiting for you when everyone else gave up?

I know we didn't end it like we're supposed to and now we get a bit tense.

The tears are falling now, flowing really.

" I still love you, never stopped, " He says voice quiet. A part of you wants to believe him the same little girl who spent all that time waiting begs you to believe him, but the older you, the present you won't allow it.

The sound of the door creaking open has both of walking back to the living room to greet Katsuki's who covered from head to toe in soot.

" I interrupt some shit ?" The blonde asks kicking off his heavy work boots.

" No Honey, Deku was just leaving we did some catching up is all, got on the same page n' whatnot. "

The green-haired man takes his cue to leave, giving Katsuki a nod before walking out the door.

I wonder if my mind leaves out all the bad parts.

sometimes in the dead of the night when Katsuki's fast asleep you find yourself thinking about how different things would have been if he had come back, or if you waited all this time for him.

You let yourself fantasize about the family you would have had and the house you would probably have owned, the names of children that will never exist.

but as your pregnancy test finally comes back positive and Katsuki pops the question you don't let yourself think about what could've been.

There is only what is.

----

i hope all of you suffer and all of this was intentional

anyways if you enjoyed the piece feedback, notes and reblogs are appreciated

#deku x fem!reader #fem!black!reader #deku x reader #deku angst #mha angst #bakugou x y/n #dekuxyn #mhaask #ask box #its queue i like #izuku midoria x reader #izukux reader angst #blackreaders #hurtnocomofrt #no happy ending #sagegr33n #sage'swritting #sageanswersalotofasks

[deviliciousdev]

MBTI✨ Meet Cute? Meet. Cute.🖤

entp (the debater)

x

infj (the advocate)

budding romance

ft. intp (the logician) friend

--------------------------------

[entp & intp at an arcade bar 👾🍺🥃🍸🍹🥂]

entp: [playing intp in air hockey] HA! take that bitch!

intp: you HAD YOUR HAND ON THE TABLE IT DOESNT COUNT!

entp: oh really because the little digital score board begs to differ...

intp: son of bitch.

[waitress brings entp the drink they ordered, and winks at them as entp says thanks]

intp: op. now i'm not an expert on human sexual behavior... but-

entp: yeah no shit. actually the opposite of an expert. whats the word i'm looking for for, idiot.

intp: 😐... BUT, the waitress chick, huh? huh? wink, wink, nudge, nudge? [goofy smile]😜

entp: did you just say "wink, wink" instead of winking...

intp: the alcohol is affecting my facial muscles and i was afraid you wouldn't get my intent on cadence alone...

entp: [camera looks]

intp: but anyway stop changing the subject, so? waitress chick, she's cute, you should go for it, ya know do a little dance, make a little love... basically just get down tonight... [snorts in humor at their own joke]

entp: yeah... i don't think so. i haven't really been into the dating scene lately... it's mostly disappointing, and sometimes cringe worthy.

intp: ok first of all until i met entj that's ALL the "dating scene" was in my experience, so sorry if i don't feel that bad for you. besides you're probably just being dramatic, it can't be that bad.

entp: [looks at intp with intense deadpan] the last date i went on, she looked almost 10 years older than her profile picture, and when she said in her bio she was a nature lover i assumed she liked to hike or some shit, but no... she was a taxidermist... she brought her latest "project" to our date...

intp: yikes.

entp: yeah. it was weasel. and it's eyes followed you wherever you moved...

intp: 😬

entp: so i'm thinking i might take a breather from "dating" for the moment.

intp: [shrugs]🤷‍♀️/🤷

entp: [sips old fashion 🥃] [winces] oof god what'd they do dump the entire bitters bottle in here, ugh!🤮 i'm gonna get this re-made.

intp: alright i'm gonna hit the bathroom all that vodka is gettin to me...

[entp approaches bar]

entp: hey uh think i could get a new one, this one is... bad... sorry i couldn't think of a nicer way to say that soooo, yeah.

bartender: bad huh? may be i should get you something more suited for you. like a daiquiri...

entp: ok, first of all daiquiris are delicious and if i wanted one i would feel no shame about ordering one. but i ordered an old fashioned my go to drink since i was 12, not a glass of bitters and a splash of Bourbon, so if we could change the tone and i could get new drink that'd be great, thanks.

bartender: [nods passive aggressively and takes entp's drink]

entp: [to self] god everything's disappointing. [hears cheering behind them, turns, still leaning on bar counter]

[someone collides into entp and spills drinks all over them💥]

entp: [angry😡] oh dude what the hell- are you bli- [sees the person, and is attracted to them] 😳

infj: oh my god! i am so sorry!! [hands on head] 🤭 i've been having a really dumb day, i got a parking ticket, and then the dry cleaners lost my new coat, and- and why am i telling a stranger all of this... look i'm really sorry, can i give you some money for dry cleaning?? i feel so bad about this.

entp: [tone has completely changed] oh no don't worry about it, it's just... liquid... sticky liquid... but no no seriously it's really not a big deal.

infj: please, let me at least buy you drink??

entp: hmm, ok sure, thanks 😏

[both stand next to bar]

infj: infj [shakes entp's hand]

entp: entp 🤝😸

infj: so what are you drinking?

entp: any dark smokey liquor.

bartender: [slides entp a huge frozen daiquiri with fruit on a stick and tiny umbrella] [sarcastically] your new and improved... less bitter... drink... sir...

entp: [angrily looks from side to side, with an expression that says, damn it.]

infj: [trying not to laugh] wow yeah that's a smokey drink...

entp: [nods with a smile]

[both laugh a little]😄😅

entp: [notices dirty looks group at a table are giving them] whyyyy are those people staring at us like we're about to be sacrificed...

infj: oh, yeah, those are my co-workers we took the lady in the blue blazer out to cheer her up, she just got dumped, so were supposed to be celebrating independence and hating people [raises eyebrows]

entp: huh, what do you do?

infj: i work at the embassy, in the Ambassador's cabinet as a cultural liaison.

entp: holy shit. that's fucking epic. so do you speak more than one language??

infj: aha, well thank you. and yes i do, fluently i speak German, Spanish, Italian, French, Arabic, and Japanese. i do speak some Russian but it is... rough haha 😄

entp: that's amazing. i took american sign language in high school and a course on high elvish in college when i was bed ridden with... mono... [joking smug face] 😏

infj: [with a wide smile] wow. i'm impressed.

entp: [jokingly] yeah i'm pretty impressive. [sips daiquiri🍹]

infj: 😄

[a voice calls out to infj angrily]

infj: oh, i should probably get back to them. [motions to co-workers]

entp: oh yeah, totally. um, before you go, would you may be wanna grab dinner sometime??

infj: oh, you're really sweet and funny, it's just that, i just moved to the city, and i'm really busy at the Embassy right now, so i'm not actually dating right now, but may be we can be friends?

entp: ah, got it. well yeah ya know i'm a good friend to have aha. and to prove i'm such a good friend, if you want to make your co-worker who got dumped happy, you can throw a drink in my face, make it look like you're fiercely independent.

infj: ahaha, really?

entp: yeah what's a little more drink all over me huh?

infj: haha, again i'm sorry about before. and you know she would probably love that...

entp: go for it.

infj: [hesitates for a moment, before tossing a drink in entps face] 🍸💥 [sneakily gets out business card and sticks it in entp's shirt pocket] [whispers] thanks. 😊 [goes back to friends]

[intp approaches]

intp: ooooofffff, shot downnn, that blows, sorry dude.

entp: [gets infj's card out of pocket and wiggles it in front of intp]

intp: unless that's a pocket sized restraining order, i am... thoroughly confused.

entp: [looking across bar at infj] i'm gonna marry them.

intp: [shaking head as they sip their drink] so confused...

[to be continued...]

#mbti #16 personalities #mbti humor #mbti memes #mbti relationships #mbti friendships #entp x infj pairing #entp x infj #infj x entp #entp male #infj female #entp x intp #entp #entj #intp #intj #enfp #enfj #infp #infj #estp #estj #istp #istj #esfp #esfj #isfp #isfj #mbti romance #mbti pairings

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper Pt. 5

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of past abusive relationship, swearing, past drug use, alcohol

Word Count: 1.8k

Notes:

Parts ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR

Your injury, and consequential recovery time, couldn’t have come at a better time. The harvest was done and the apples had to rest before being pressed, which meant Frankie was now free to start working on your home. The work didn’t often require more than two hands so the days found you doing menial tasks being his gopher.

“You know,” Frankie had had to explain to you, “Go’fer this, go’fer that.”

This mainly consisted of you passing him tools while he was swearing under his breath in the attic, or groaning after rapping his knuckles under the sink, or white-faced and clinging to the weathervane on the roof. 

You had discovered Frankie’s sweet tooth on the first day of renovations, not noticing until after he’d left for the day that more than half the cookies you’d baked that morning were already gone. Making sure he was kept happy, you had a new treat ready for when he walked in the door. 

He was a coffee drinker though, and while you owned a coffee press you had never actually used it yourself, preferring tea leaves for your dose of caffeine. You’d tried, the first morning, to make a cup for him. You even googled How to Make a Cup of Coffee? to make sure you didn’t fuck it up. 

You could laugh about it now, but the look on Frankie’s face after he’d taken his first sip made you worry you had poisoned him. He had spat the black sludge out and handed you back the mug with a look of bewildered disgust. Apparently, you needed to grind the beans first, who knew?

An efficient, if not quite comfortable, rhythm had been forged between the two of you over the past week and a half. Frankie would arrive at nine in the morning, scarf down half a dozen treats while discussing the day’s projects. You would run to town in his truck (yours was still at the autobody shop awaiting parts) and buy any supplies that would be needed while he set up the worksites and organized the tools that would be required.

You had added popping into the local café for a large coffee for Frankie and a red rooibos latte with almond milk for yourself. The first couple of days you had bought him a brownie too but stopped after he’d only half-finished the first one and mumbled through the crumbs in his mouth that yours were better. It only took you three days before the owner had your order ready for you before you even walked in the door, five days before you noticed the sidelong glances the little old ladies were giving each other as you walked out.

Small towns, you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes, had the unique benefit and downfall of everyone knowing everyone else’s business. They’d quit with the hardly-concealed smirks if they knew how awkward working with Frankie was becoming.

You had been sure, in the immediate aftermath of waking up in Frankie’s arms while his truck sat in your driveway, that he was never going to speak to you again. The two of you and hopped out and began explaining away whatever conclusions Jacquie and Mark had made. Then Frankie, without even looking in your general direction, told Jacquie to get you inside and have your wrist looked at. 

To his credit, he had taken care of everything regarding your truck for you. The tow truck came and hauled it to the yard, Frankie had commandeered the inspection report and, after calling them out on trying to swindle you into buying unnecessary parts, had ordered what was needed and paid. 

You had, naturally, argued against this but you both knew you weren’t in a position to afford it. Frankie shut down your arguments gracefully, and broke his apparent vow of silence, with a gruff “I’m just doing it so I can drive my damn truck without you changing the radio station.” The absolute charmer.

It was your damn house, though, so you decided you'd talk as much as you wanted and it would be up to him to interact. Either that or you had music blaring from the radio, never playing his favourite country station purely out of spite. 

Never quite sure if he was listening or not, you rambled on about anything and everything. You explained your vision for the house and the plans you had for a greenhouse in the yard. Memories from your childhood were described in great detail, as were embarrassing stories from your year in college. Baking tips, waxing poetic about your love for sunflowers, interesting animal facts, you'd even downloaded a Word of the Day App and made a game of fitting the words into your daily uninterrupted monologues.

It took three days for Frankie to break.

You had been reminiscing about your trip to Disneyland as a child when he abruptly cut in, voice muffled due to the nails being held between his lips.

"You never talk about it."

You assumed he was referring to the little all-day nap you’d shared in his truck, as it had yet to be spoken of, but were taken aback by the slight accusatory tone.

"Talk about what?"

He took so long to reply, you started to think that he had interrupted purely to shut you up. The silence demanded an explanation though, so you kept your mouth shut and waited.

Clambering down from the attic, where he had been strengthening the trusses throughout the sagging section of roof, Frankie pinned you with his gaze and softly repeated himself.

"You never talk about it. The time in your life when you were married." He must have seen your hackles rise because he quickly set down the hammer and held his hands up in a placating wave.

"You still haven't answered my question about being in the army," was your quick response, finished with an ever-so-mature, "so there."

With a resigned sigh, Frankie twisted his hat around backward and scrubbed his hands across his face. "Come on" -waving you towards the patio doors- "these kinds of conversations require fresh air and a drink."

Reluctantly you followed him outside but rather than sinking down onto the porch swing you opted to lean against the post facing it. Opening two ciders, which you now had free access to, you handed one to Frankie and watched him over the top of the bottle.

Half of your drink was gone and your mind had wandered to greenhouse and flower garden placement before Frankie spoke again. His voice low and quiet catching you by surprise.

"Yeah," he broke the silence with another ragged sigh, "I, uh, I served. Started in the Air Force, worked my way up to Special Tactics Squadron. Made enough noise there to get recruited to Delta Force."

"Oh, fuck," your exclamation was soft with shock "you've seen some shit then." Blast your runaway mouth and its inability to wait for your brain to catch up before blurting out your inner thoughts. "I'm sorry!-"

"No, it's okay" Frankie interrupted, trying to reassure you and remove the horrified look that had come across your face. 

"No, no, that was totally uncalled for. Brad, my um, my husband, he was a Marine. He hated talking about it, said no one liked talking about it. I should have known."

"It's not that," Frankie reassured you again, "You were the first person to ever ask me about it, in all the time I've lived here. Just took me by surprise."

Leaning over in the swing, Frankie pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and handed you a photo from inside it. Five men beamed up at you. You could recognize them from a few of the photos that had rested on Frankie's mantle, they looked older in this one.

"Tell me about them?" you asked, knowing that most of the request was due to curiosity but a small part of you hoped that if you kept him talking you could avoid the subject of your marriage.

The sun was beginning to set and you'd long moved inside to eat dinner by the time Frankie was done sharing. It must have been cathartic, you mused, for him to bare this much about himself. He had never looked more relaxed in all the time you'd known him, which wasn't saying much and it could just as easily been due to the amount of alcohol thrumming through his system.

The room fell into a companionable silence, each of you digesting the information that had been revealed. You were in awe of the fact that, despite the life of violence he had witnessed, Frankie still maintained his humanity. Even after a messy divorce and lost custody battle, Frankie continued to choose the path of healing. He was clean, was fighting for shared custody of his daughter again, running his own business, and still had found time to endear himself into the town's hearts.

Frankie was, for all his sharp edges and gruff words, a sweetheart.

It put into stark comparison how Brad had reacted to the lemons life had served him. Born into an upper-middle-class home, the only son, doted on by his parents, Brad had been raised into a life where every door was open to him. Despite this, or maybe because of it, he had grown hateful of those weaker than him. He was controlling but had just the right amount of charm to pass it off as caring.

"I've met men like that," 

You nearly jumped out of your skin from surprise. Looking at Frankie with wide-eyed shock you wondered again what the hell was in the cider. This was the second time you'd poured your heart out to a virtual stranger, but this time you hadn't even realized you'd started speaking your thoughts aloud. 

Squaring your shoulders and holding Frankie's gaze you continued, almost challenging him to find someone worse than Brad had been.

"He made me quit college because he said he wanted to start a family. Then berated me and acted like it was all my fault every time the pregnancy test came back negative. You know what that asshole did?" Tears were threatening to fall but you held on to Frankie's gaze, "He had gotten a vasectomy months earlier. I didn't find out about it until after he died; going through paperwork that had been stored in his desk."

Frankie was up on his feet now, pacing around the kitchen island, too distraught to keep still. How could anyone be so cruel? Let alone be so cruel to someone as sweet and pure as you. He hated seeing you cry but knowing you weren't receptive to people being in your personal space, wasn't sure how to comfort you. 

Acting on pure instinct he grabbed the kettle and started preparing you some tea, not allowing himself to ruminate how he knew which flavour you preferred. Setting your favourite pottery mug in front of you, along with the little honey pot, he also decided to grab the fluffy throw blanket off your couch. 

"I get it now," he thought to himself offhandedly, "why women have so many fuckin' blankets and pillows in every room."

Placing the throw around your shoulders he was preparing to say goodnight and let you have some peace but was stilled by your hand reaching up and covering his.

"Please. Stay."

Part SIX

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#Fix'er Upper #Frankie Morales x you #Frankie Morales x F!reader #Frankie Catfish Morales x you #Frankie Catfish Morales x reader #Frankie x reader #Frankie x you #Catfish x reader #Catfish x you #Triple Frontier fanfiction #Frankie Morales Fanfiction

[llyncooljones]

brake the car, not me - rowaelin month day five.

ao3 || masterlist || rowaelin month '21 masterlist

prompt: i accidentally hit you with my car.

word count: 3314

trigger warnings: language, suggestive shit.

tag list: @live-the-fangirl-life @rowaelinismyotp @rowanaelinn

the whitehorn-galathynius home, early morning.

Aelin runs hot, constantly. There isn’t a second in a day you could touch her skin and not find her to be the personification of a radiator. For her, it’s a curse, she doesn’t like it.

Right now, it’s a blessing. Right now, in the freezing fucking cold, she absolutely loves running hot, fucking adores it. Right now, she’s practically the only source of heat in the whole house, Except for (maybe) the electric kettle and the breakfast tea it’s helping to make.

With a pair of stag-patterned, fluffy socks on her feet and a pair of similar-looking pyjama pants that cover her legs, she's looking pretty damn good for just past six in the fucking morning. But you travel further up than her pants, that's when it all goes downhill—quickly. Tucked into the pyjama pants is a fluorescent orange and neon green striped thermal from an ancient Halloween costume. On top of that lays one of Rowan's hoodies from his college football days, the yellow and blue of their team decorating the hoodie.

And to top off the entire ensemble, she slides a sausage-dogs-go-skiing dressing gown over her shoulders while the tea steeps.

It's her and Rowan's first house, and it is one hundred per cent worth the ninety-five grand they paid for the house. It's in a quiet neighbourhood, perfect for raising the children Aelin hopes to have with Rowan. Despite the five bedrooms, three and a half baths, and half-acre property, the house is shit. It needs so much money put into it to even make it liveable for Rowan and Aelin, let alone their future family, that they almost didn't buy it.

The windows are single glaze and in rotted wood frames, the walls are stained, and the floorboards are so creaky you could create an off-tune symphony on your way to take a shit. There's mould in just about every place you can imagine, and everything was created to fit in with the fucking nineteen-seventies.

The kitchen is large, and a line of windows sit above the main worktop, looking out onto the garden and Aelin can picture herself stood in front of them, making dinner or pouring a cup of tea for herself and looking into the garden, at children she and Rowan made and created.

It's so vivid in her mind she can't help but place a hand against her stomach, it's deluded, she isn't pregnant. She and Rowan only got married three weeks ago, only moved in here two months ago from their shared apartment. They only got back from their honeymoon a week ago.

Shaking herself from her reverie, she spoons out the teabags and places them in the compost bin on the counter. Adding a splash of milk to both mugs and a teaspoon of sugar to only Rowan's she turns and begins to ascend the painted, wooden and dilapidated staircase. The wood of the stairs is so rotten, it's liable to snap beneath your feet—hence the old mattresses beneath the stairs.

Pushing open their bedroom door, Aelin sees Rowan sat up in bed, reading from his phone. His glasses are sliding down his nose and one hand is lying across his bare torso.

He looks perfect, the thick white duvet and the two fluffy grey blankets cocooning him against the cold not doing anything to stop the cold from seeping into him. Fleetfoot is curled up next to him, under the covers and with her head nestled into the crook of his elbow.

"Fireheart, babe, I hate to do this, but a client just found something for their case. I have to pop into the office. It'll only be for an hour, and it's the weekend you can come up with me."

"Ro, that's fine. I've been in a relationship with you for nearly eight years now, I stuck with you through law school and your first year of lawyering. I'm perfectly aware of this shit and am perfectly happy to go with you today."

"Thanks for the tea, love, we can drink it and then we'll take a shower, yeah?" He says so whilst taking his mug, a huge one with pine trees and snow all over it.

She climbs back into bed after shedding everything except her striped shirt. In comfortable, newly wedded silence, they begin their morning together—another page in their ever-growing book.

An hour later and the clock tower in the town centre is chiming for half-past seven as Rowan and Aelin rush through the house, frantically moving from room to room, periodically picking up phones and keys and chargers and briefcases.

Everything is hurried but strangely perfected after nearly six years of cohabitation and eight years of dating.

Everything holds a familiar ease and yet nothing feels repetitive, nothing becomes boring the longer it's being dragged on.

"Rowan Whitehorn-Galathynius! If you are not through this door in the next fifteen seconds I am leaving for your office on my own." She loves the way their double-barrelled surnames slide off her tongue and rolls over her lips. It feels just right, and she loves it.

Rowan appears in their front doorway, his hair dishevelled from their quickie in the front room when Rowan had found Aelin on her hands and knees looking for her phone charger. His dress shirt is white and paired with his black and faintly pinstriped slacks he looks like every girl’s dream teacher.

Instead, he's both her dream lawyer and husband, her vision in business casual. With his hand pulling his phone from his back pocket, the muscles in his arm are highlighted, popping out against the thin fabric that is rolled up to just under his elbow.

He begins to walk around the car, to reach his seat on the passenger’s side, his steps regular and just about heard over the quiet hum of the engine. Aelin is watching his progress around the SUV with careful eyes and rolling them when he stops at the back door on the passenger’s side.

He slides his thumb across the phone screen, Aelin recognising the motion for him to answer a call. Looking back at him through the window he's stood still next, she shoots him the middle finger.

He replies with a look that conveys both that she is a brat, and he is sorry. After that, Rowan forms an 'L' with his hand, and Aelin knows it means it's his co-counsel Lorcan calling to discuss the development in their joint case.

the whitehorn-galathynius driveway, the same moment.

Rowan knows he could have taken that call inside the car, and he also could have been spared the below-freezing temperatures whilst wearing only a shirt and a pair of pants. But he would not be able to focus on Lorcan's, his co-counsel on his current case, call with Aelin looking freshly fucked.

Which she is, of course.

"Listen, Lor, I'm just about to head into the downtown office. I'll go over evidence logs and the evidence as well. I'll handle it, but I can keep you updated." He doesn't want to pull Lorcan from Elide, the overly tall brute has been much more bearable since they first hooked up at his and Aelin's wedding.

"Alright, man, if you say so. You know I won't leave El on the weekends if I don't fucking have to." Lorcan's voice is weirdly happy as he speaks, a testament to how the right someone can change a person.

"You and Elide, who woulda thought you'd be joined at the hip."

"Literally everyone, Rowan, it was you and Galathynius no one expected, always fucking fighting."

"Fair enough, fair enough." The car's engine roars fully life somewhere in the back of his mind, and he realises he needs to end the call before Aelin takes it upon herself to leave him on the driveway and make her own way to downtown, so she can use his credit card in the massive independent bookstore there.

It isn't until it's already happened that it registers in Rowan's mind. Pain is suddenly swimming up his every nerve, firing off into his brain and making Rowan respond. His eyes well up and he damn near collapses onto the snow-covered concrete.

"Holy fuck, Lorcan, holy fucking hell that fucking hurts! Oh, my gods, that hurts, that hurts a hell of a lot! That's, that's a lot of fucking pain!" He isn't shouting and he isn't screaming 'ow' for all the world to hear so he thinks he's doing okay given what the fuck just happened.

"What hurts?" Lorcan's question is relaxed and unassuming and his friend is totally unprepared for the answer Rowan gives.

"I don't know, Lorcan. Maybe the fact my fucking wife just ran my foot over with the fucking car! And it really fucking hurts." He slams his hand on the back window, suddenly glad he tends to stand with one foot in front of the other, and glad that was how he was stood when he was run the fuck over by his wife, of three weeks.

The car stops, the wheel thankfully completely off of his foot. Slamming the 'end call' button on his phone, he waits as his wife clambers out of the car, rounding it at speed.

She gasps when she sees his foot, and the fact it's in the path of the wheel and she covers her mouth. At first, Rowan thinks it's out of embarrassment and that it is a vaguely apologetic gesture but when her shoulders begin to shake, and her eyes aren't welling with tears.

She's laughing, she's fucking laughing at the fact she ran him the fuck over. Rowan almost wants to laugh, but he's afraid if he starts, he'll end up crying like Aelin does after reading a character death scene.

"Okay, alright. This is comedy gold but ignoring the fact that I owe karma a massive amount for this... Let's get you into the car and to the hospital." Aelin has the decency to look a little guilty, but the shit-eating grin playing on her lips greatly outshines any guilt.

It's ten minutes of fumbling hands, tears, and so many swear words they've probably invented a few until Rowan is in the front passenger seat and in a state of uncomfortable comfort. He's got ice packs and three bags of peas taped around his foot, and he's still in so much pain he can barely think.

He's pretty sure he passes out on the way to Orynth General, but he can't be sure. The drive might've actually just passed in three seconds and a flash of black. Who knows, stranger things have happened.

He can't stand the feeling of not knowing, opting to ask his sadistic wife's opinion on the matter. As she parks, Rowan speaks up, "Did I pass out on the way here, I've got no recollection of how we got here."

"I don't know, love, but how we got here... That I can answer. After I backed out of the driveway—" Aelin always takes an opportunity to be sarcastic, even when she's driving her husband to the hospital, it seems.

"—Without running someone over this time, I take it?" Rowan throws back snarkily at his wife, knowing she didn't.

"—and then I drove north down our road until hit the T-junction, where I went left. I continued in that direction until—" Not letting it go, she remains serious and doesn't even let in a hint of snide joy to her tone.

"—Ae, as much you would enjoy my silence whilst you give a play-by-play," it's a sarcastic comment, Rowan's the one who appreciates Aelin's silences, "could you answer my question?"

"What was your question?" Aelin retorts, enjoying their conversation more than she should.

"Whether or not I passed out on the drive here? I literally asked it two seconds ago, how have you forgotten?" Rowan is pushing on all of Aelin's pressure points—hoping for a reaction.

"No, our journey literally passed in three seconds, and it definitely passed in a black blur." The sarcasm is so clear in Aelin's voice Rowan can't help but let out a quiet laugh as she opens her door.

Once his wife has arrived at his door and opened it, he responds. "Stranger things have happened." Yeah, he thinks, like fucking Stranger Things actually growing popular.

"Oh yeah, like what, you buzzard?" Retorts have been second nature to Aelin, ever since her childhood days spent arguing with Aedion and his sexist ten-year-old friends,

"How about, my wife running me over with our car. I mean, call me stupid, but personally I think that getting run over by your own wife is pretty damn strange."

"Rowan, it was only your foot. It's not that deep, it is not that deep." Rowan delights in her statement. She's making excuses as to why she shouldn't feel guilty, meaning that she does feel guilty. And a guilt-ridden Aelin is always fun.

They're hobbling towards the exit to the car park, making sure to take it easy and not put excessive pressure on Rowan's foot. His hands are wrapped so tightly around Aelin he isn't sure they'll be able to separate, ever.

"It was still run over, Aelin, the car's wheel still drove over me, no matter whether it was at ten miles an hour, or if it was just one wheel. I was run over! By my wife, no less!"

"Still, Rowan. It was your foot. Your foot does what? Is it crucial to your life force and strength? No. Is it crucial to your work? No. Does it get me off? No. Therefore, not important."

"So, what you're saying is, that if you ran over my cock with the car, you'd be sorry." He would also be sorry; he might not ever recover if she had run over his cock.

How she'd do it, he isn't sure.

But if she felt any urge to do it, ever, she would. No matter what, if Aelin wanted to run over his dick, she would run it the fuck over.

"Yes, how else would you fuck me. With a dildo? I know they're good, but they cannot compare to you."

"Thanks, nice compliment and nice ego-boost. Anyhow, Aelin, you still ran me over." The compliment isn't going to make up for the fact she ran him over, but for now, it's a nice little dose of paracetamol.

"What proof do you have that you even were run over." He wants to shout at her, what proof does he have? The fact his foot is massive, and she was in the car, behind the wheel when it happened.

What proof do you have?

"My foot is twice its usual size, that's what proof I have. And also, we have a dashcam. So, it's fucking on camera."

"Okay, nice for you. I plead the fifth." Even whilst married to a lawyer, to a man who serves justice via the law, Aelin has some of the poorest understanding of the law he's ever seen. He's surprised she's trying to bullshit her way out of this, using phrases she's no doubt heard during his conference calls or had read in his old pre-law or law school textbooks.

"That's not how the law works Aelin, not even close, babe." A mile away, really. A hundred thousand, if you wanted to be correct.

"Okay, nice for you, lawyer man." Her face doesn't even crack with a smile.

They're passing by the sign that points to the Emergency Department, to Accident and Emergency and Rowan knows Aelin is clocking the fact that he hurries his hobble up when he sees the sign. The cobbled pathway is hell to be walking on right now, his foot wobbling when he steps on the cracks.

"You know what isn't nice for me?" He can't hold it back, it's too good.

"Oh, please do enlighten me, O' Wise One." He does hope this nickname isn't one that sticks with him and Aelin.

"The fact my foot is double its normal size, Ae."

"Okay and your cock gets larger when I'm around. You gonna blame that on me too?" They've just entered the emergency room, and eyes turn to them like they're on fire. Mum's shoot death stares, kids begin asking questions and the singles and the dads try to muffle their tired laughter.

"Yes! It is literally your fault I get hard around you." Rowan's usual shyness is gone, it evaporated alongside his sensibility when he got run over.

"It is not my fault you cannot control your bodily urges around me."

"Maybe I don't want to control my bodily urges around you." He'd much rather fuck her than force his erection away with thoughts of his bachelor party when some random tag along from his law firm had eaten spaghetti from a pile of puke. Without a prompt, or even a dare. Of his own volition, though heavily influenced with the top shelf alcohol they had been served with.

"Maybe I didn't feel like controlling the car this morning. Did ya think of that one, huh, Bird Boy, did ya?"

"That isn't— that's not even close to the point."

"Well maybe, just maybe you should point the blame somewhere else. Somewhere that isn't your wife."

And do so to whom, to which place. Lorcan? It's hardly his friend's fault that his wife can't be patient. The car? It was being controlled by Aelin. Who didn’t feel like controlling it?

"Yeah, away from my wife who ran over my fucking foot today."

"Whilst you were on a work call. At seven in the morning. On a fucking Sunday. Even God rested on Sunday, Rowan. Even fucking God." She becomes more and more frustrated the longer their barbs and teasing jabs are thrown at each other, her usually cool front always falling to pieces when it comes to him.

"And that's an excuse, a reason for running me over?" It isn't, in case anyone was wondering.

"Yes! Of course, it is. Ask anyone here, ask any woman here and I guarantee she will agree with me." The look Aelin gives the waiting room is not as surreptitious as she believes it is, but the cuteness of her facial expression as she commands the room is enough for Rowan to forget that this future census is biased.

"Fine. Is, being on a work call at seven in the morning on Sunday grounds for running someone over, specifically, your fucking husband?" He asks the question with such venom in his voice he’s surprised the room isn’t suddenly filled by Tom Hardy and his character.

Every woman in the blue-painted waiting nods, some hesitant and some nodding so fiercely he wonders how their heads are still attached to their necks. Some look frightened while others seem to be on the verge of laughter after hearing Rowan and Aelin's entirely ridiculous conversation.

"Great. You win this time, but don't think for even a second that you aren't waiting on me hand and foot when we get home." Rowan knows, in his head, that couples have divorced for less than this, it's the lawyer in him. And his divorce lawyer friends, who attended his wedding with the gusto of matchmakers, rather than people who earn their livelihood from marriages failing.

"Mr. Whitehorn-Galathynius? We have Dr. Towers here to see you. If you could follow me, please?" States a nurse in blue scrubs, continuing to speak at them when Rowan identifies himself. Feeling the weight of the stare of everyone in the waiting room, he hobbles to his feet and makes sad little hoppy-jumpy movements to the doorway.

"Oh, look at that. We're out of time." Aelin flashes him a wide and victorious smile and despite everything in him being in massive amounts of agony, his heart just shines brighter than before.

#rowaelin month #rowaelin #tog #throne of glass #tog fic #my fic #my writing #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #llyncooljones' writing

[hot-wiings]

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Requested By: Anonymous

Edited: 11-5-2020 

Katsuki Bakugou fidgeted with his hands as he sat on his couch. He was nervous, a foreign feeling for him. He didn't get nervous, he didn't get scared. Katsuki was confident. Confident and bold. Yet, here he was, acting like a nervous little baby.

“Kacchan...?” 

Your voice called out to him from across the house. Your voice was soft and sweet, a reminder to Katsuki how nervous he should be for what he was about to ask of you. It was big, it was huge, something you both promised to never ask for. 

You made your way over to him and knelt in front of the brown couch. With a concerned look on your face, you grabbed your boyfriend's rough, fidgeting hands. You had never seen Katsuki so nervous and you'd been with Katsuki for a long time. You had been there with him for every fight and stress since the beginning of UA high. You had been there for every struggle on his journey as a hero. It was you two against the world. 

“Babe, what's wrong?”

“I- I want a baby.”

As if his words had burned your skin, you immediately let go of his hands and stood up. You soon began pacing the room nervously. Betrayal and hurt ran through your veins as you turned to him and threw your arms up in the air. 

“You can’t just spring that on me. You never even hinted at the thought of a family.” 

“I thought the feeling would pass... But every time I see a child, I realize how much I want one.”

“We can't raise a child katsuki. We wake up, go to work, come home, eat dinner. We barely even have the time to make one! Children, they require a lot of attention.”

He knew that. He knew they required care. He knew they needed attention. But he wanted one so bad. He wanted one with you. He wanted to be a father. He wanted a mini-him, someone to look up to him. Someone he could teach right and wrong.

“I know. I know they need attention, and I know we promised each other kids would never be in the books for us... But I want one, so bad.”

Your hard gaze on Katsuki softened as you took a spot on the couch next to him. You slipped your hand into his warm one and squeezed it. 

“Look, I'm not ready for a baby. I'm not saying never, just not right now. Maybe in a couple of years, maybe once we're married.”

A deep frown made way to Katsuki's face. You weren't ready for children and you wouldn't ever be. You weren't a kid type of person, you hated them. You would never be happy with children, you would force your self to have them for Katsuki's sake, but you would grow to resent and hate him. 

With a deep sigh, Katsuki squeezed your hand then withdrew it from your grasp. There was only one thing he could do in this predicament. 

“We should break up. I received an offer to work in America and I'm gonna accept it.”

“What the fuck Katsuki? What about us? You don't even wanna try long distance?”

“As far as you're concerned, there's nothing holding me back here anymore.”

He didn't want to hurt you. He hated himself as he saw the tears dribble down his face. He felt sick and disgusted with himself, but this was the only way you'd let go of him. 

With a loud clinking sound, you slammed down a shot glass you had previously downed onto the bar top. Quickly, you waved over the bartender and yelled to get their attention.

"Another one! Please and thank you!"

The barman immediately hobbles over and pours you a new glass. In all honestly, he probably should have cut you off, you were loud and obnoxious, not to mention so wobbly and unstable it was a surprise you were still sitting on the barstool. It was good publicity to have a hero of your caliber in his bar, you'd also been his best customer all night. In fact, you'd been his best customer all week.

You'd been crying over Katsuki for the last two months. During the first month, you were sad. He had started staying at Deku's place and you were sure he'd finally get fed up with his old friend and come back. You were so sure he'd change his mind about leaving. That he'd change his mind about leaving both the country and you, but he didn't. As his plans progressed, he slowly moved more things out of your once shared apartment. During the second month, all you did was cry and drink. Or drink and cry. He was leaving you, he was really leaving you tomorrow. He was at his mother's tonight, and he was heading straight for the airport in the morning.

You down the shot and you're about to flag over the bartender again but you're distracted by the back of someone's head. Dark green hair, even in your drunken state you'd know him anywhere, Izuku Midoriua was in the same bar as you.

"Deku!"

He turned at the sound of his name and smiled as he walked over to you. You both stumble as you walked closer to each other, it looked like he was as drunk as you. Izuku was usually so responsible, guess there really is a first time for everything.

"Hey! I saw on snap chat that you were here, figured you could use a drinking buddy."

His words were slightly slurred but you understood him. It was a surprise Deku was this drunk. While he liked getting a drink after work, he never, never, ever, got plastered. Although you weren't surprised, Kacchan was leaving. His childhood friend was leaving. Though they acted like enemies, they still had their friend moments, they worked in the same agency, they seen each other every day.

However, Izuku was not drunk for the reasons you thought. He was angry and upset, both at himself and Katsuki. He had been the one who introduced you to Katsuki in the first place. Deku had strong feelings for you back then – he still did. He had feelings for you, but you and Katsuki hit it off. He trusted his friend with you, but to see him so callously hurt your heart pained him.

He put you both together, but here you were crying your heart out, the same way he did when you and Katsuki first got together.

Izuku is about to take a seat and buy you a drink when the bartender turns him away.

"You're both drunk off your asses and I'm not properly equipped to deal with a bar fight with a prohero like him in it."

Girl heroes were often underestimated. You surely weren't coming back to this bar or paying your tab.

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the fact he's been thinking of you for years. Maybe it was the wanting feelings he had stored up since the day he brought you to Katsuki. Izuku grabbed your hand and gently tugged you towards him a huge smile on his face.

"You want me to call you an Uber? Or take you somewhere else?"

He offered you an Uber. Even drunk, Izuku was still a hero who cared about civilian safety.

"How about we go back to your place?"

It was an innocent question to a friend, but it was a bad idea. You were both drunk, and things were bound to happen. You were both tipsy and weren't thinking straight. Yet you both entertain the thought and walked out together, hand in hand, like a drunk couple.

Katsuki didn't cross your mind as Izuku took off your clothes. Katsuki didn't cross your mind one bit as you let Izuku fuck you. All that you thought about was the way Izuku grabbed, held, and pounded into you. Katsuki certainly didn't cross your mind the next morning either when you woke up with a naked fucked mess next to Izuku.

Despite the hangover, one thing was for sure. Izuku could fuck.

"So we..."

"Yeah..."

You both had blushes among your cheeks. It wasn't every day you woke up naked with you coworker and friend.

"Do... Do you regret it? I'm sorry, I'm not much of a hero am I? I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable, I should've never gotten drunk."

"No, you're a great hero Izuku! It's not like I said no... I didn't push you away, we both wanted that."

You grabbed Izuku’s hand and intertwined your fingers.

"I'm undecided on if I regret it, but I definitely did enjoy it... I hope you did too..."

"I did... Maybe we can in sick to the agency, we could spend the day together. You know, to decide if last night was worth regretting?"

"I'd very much like that."

You looked up at Izuku and smiled at him. It felt good and domestic. You in his bed with a shining smile. It felt like you were his. Like he never lost you to Katsuki. He was determined not to lose you to anybody again.

Katsuki Bakugo maneuvered around people as he looked for you. It had been five years since he last saw you. Five years since he broke your heart and ran away to America. He was back now, and you were the first person he wanted to see. He didn't just want to see you, he needed to see you. 

He had hurt himself as much as he hurt you that day. He thought it would be better to break up, but five years in America taught him that he would never find another person like you. He would never find another woman that could measure up to you. You were so perfect, and in return, he was so shitty. 

All for what? Because he wanted a family and he didn't think you'd be happy giving him one? It didn't matter now. He didn't need a family. He didn't need kids. He just needed you. He didn't have to have kids if it meant he couldn't have you.

Seeing as he doesn't have an apartment, Katsuki had been staying with Eijirou since he got back. They had immediately fallen back into a bromance as if they hadn't been apart for five years. That was how Katsuki got to where he was now, discreetly standing in your home. Eijirou had told him about how you were having a house warming party, despite their friendship, Eijirou couldn't tell Katsuki about the truths and secrets he wasn't privy to in America. All Eijirou could do was stare in sympathy as Katsuki got ecstatic at the idea of seeing you again.   

Katsuki had been there for about fifteen minutes and he still hadn’t found you. With every person he passed, he got annoyed. Most of them were people he knew, Denki Kaminari, Mina Ashido, Ochako Uraraka. People he used to work with, people he went to school with. They all gave him weird, sympathetic looks as they said hi and stopped him to catch up. It was as if they were all apart of some big elaborate secret. Although, he supposed five years apart will do that.   

Katsuki excused himself from a conversation with Denki, who practically begged him to go out for drinks with him sometime. Apparently, he had developed an American accent and Japanese chicks dig that, Denki hadn't changed much. With one swift turn, Katsuki stumbled into a little kid. 

“I-I'm sorry, sir. I was looking for my dad he said he was going to the bathroom and he'd be right back but there are so many people and me- I- I-”

Katsuki could tell the kid was on the verge of a panic attack so he crouched down to the kid's height to speak to him. He had green hair and freckles, for a second Katsuki was taken back to that wanting need for children. He wanted one so bad, but he was prepared to give it up for you. 

“Don't worry about it kid, how about I help you find him?”

Katsuki took the kid's hand. While he didn't want to deviate from his search for you, he couldn't leave this little kid on his own. Although most of the people here were heroes, he couldn't be too safe.

Katsuki had thoroughly searched the downstairs of the house already on his endeavor for you and he hadn't seen a bathroom. He had no choice but to look upstairs, maybe he could find you and the kid's father. Two birds with one stone.

While holding the kid's hand, Katsuki guided him upstairs. He made sure not to pull or yank the kid, he had to go his pace.  

Katsuki couldn't help but look at your house. It was nice and pristine. He felt remorseful for breaking up with you. If he hadn't you two would just be at home, chilling together in the old apartment you used to share.

Katsuki reached the upstairs floor and made his way to the nearest door. He knew it was rude to open random doors and pillage throughout your house but he hadn't a clue which room was the bathroom.

Katsuki turned the nob and pushed the door open. It wasn't the bathroom, however, Katsuki wished he hadn't come in.

This room appeared to be your bedroom. You were inside leaning against your dresser and in front of you was a man. Not just any man, but Katsuki's old childhood friend, Izuku Midoriya. He had his hands on your hips and his face was in your neck, leaving little kisses and whispers into your ear. Worst of all, you were laughing and smiling as he let his damn hands wander over you.

"Dad!"

The little kid rushes over to you and Izuku with relief laced in his voice. Izuku breaks away from you and crouches down to the kid's level. The kid immediately grabs onto Izuku as if his life is hanging in the balance. You crouch down to and rub the child's back soothingly. The way Katsuki remembered you rubbing his back when he was sick and puking his guts up.

"What's wrong buddy? Are you hurt? Are you okay?"

"I- I couldn't find you and there were a bunch of people! This house is so big, I wanna go back to grandma Inko's."

The child buried his face in Izuku's chest and you were both so enamored with him. Worry and concern dripped from your voices. Katsuki didn't know how he didn't notice earlier. This child was obviously Izuku's kid, but he just couldn't believe that he was yours. He couldn't believe it. He refused to believe it.

"Bud, we were only staying with Grandma while we finished moving, you'll get used to the big house, I promise."

"Once all the guests leave you'll feel right at home. Besides... You know me and daddy will always protect you, right?"

With his sniffling and tears now coming to a stop, the kid rubs his face and nods at you.

"I know."

It was then that you looked up and saw Katsuki. He hadn't aged much these five years. He wore the saddest face as he watched you and Izuku interact with your child. His heart was breaking and yours broke with it. Of course, it did. He was your first love. He was what led up to the events of your pregnancy.

"Katsuki?"

Izuku's head craned up at the mention of his old friend's name and he frowned. Truthfully, he felt bad for Katsuki. He had what Katsuki wanted, a family. Not just any family, but one with you.

"Hey bud, let's find you some food while mommy talks with her friend."

Izuku picked his son up and carried him out of the room to give you two privacy. He knew how loud Katsuki could get when he was upset, and he did not want his innocent son to experience that. While Izuku didn't want to leave you alone with your ex-boyfriend, he knew you and Katsuki needed to talk. You were each other's first love. There was deep history there, along with deep hurt.

"What are you doing here? It's been five years."

"I missed home... I missed you."

"You broke my heart five years ago. You hurt me, you left me."

The feelings you had for Katsuki were gone, but you still had the urge to cry. He was your everything, you would've married him, but he broke your heart and ran away to America. If it wasn't for Izuku, you would be a drunken hero. If Izuku hadn't been at that bar that night, if you hadn't slept together, if you hadn't gotten pregnant, you would've continued down your path of destructive behavior.

"You broke my heart, you broke me. You don't get the right to come back five years later acting like everything is fine."

"I know that! I know I hurt you, I know I broke you. I can fix it, let me fix it. Leaving you was such a mistake. I never should've done it.

Tears were brimming your eyes as you twisted the gold wedding band around your finger. Katsuki hadn't noticed the band before. He had no choice now but to believe the kid really is yours. Yours and Izuku's.

"You can't fix what's already been mended."

"You married him."

You smiled over at your former lover as you talked about your new one. Katsuki was seething on the inside. Once again, Katsuki had lost to Deku. He was the world's greatest hero, and now he had you.

"I did... One drunken night after you left led to a pregnancy. [Son's Name] wasn't even intentional, he was an accident but Izuku stuck by me. He stayed by my side, he's made me feel loved and safe."

He would beg you. Beg, and beg for you to be with him. Fuck, he wouldn't even care if he had to be a stepfather and share your kid with Deku. He would do it because he wanted a kid, a kid with you. But he couldn't. It was too late. You and Izuku were married, you had a family now. Maybe, had Katsuki stuck around and waited for you to be ready, maybe you'd be a family with him, but he didn't wait. He left. He broke you and left.

With deep regret, Katsuki smiles at you and pulls you into a big hug. He missed the way it felt. The way your body felt against his. He knew he'd never feel it again after this, so he pulled tight and did what he never did. He apologized.

"I'm sorry for hurting you."

Katsuki pulled away from you and walked to the door.

"The kids cute, I'm happy for you."

#bnha #bnha x reader #mha #mha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero x reader #boku no hero academia #boku no hero #my hero academia #katsuki x reader #bnha katsuki x reader #mha katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo x reader #mha bakugo x reader #mha izuku x reader #bnha izuku x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #bnha midoriya x reader #mha midoriya x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha katsuki bakugou x reader #mha katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #mha izuku midoriya x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki x reader #mha bakugo katsuki x reader

[arumin-arureruto]

Honeytea PT 1

Kyoya x fem reader and Hikaru x fem reader, Kyoya angst, Hikaru slowburn.

Warnings: manipulation, Kyoya angst

word count: 2k

songs to listen to while reading:

The Night We Met - Lord Huron

Everything I wanted - Billie Eilish

Bitches Broken Heart - Billie Eilish

(I'll probably make a Spotify playlist at some point)

Outfit reader is wearing:

"ouch" the boiling hot water dripped from the tip of the tea kettle and onto your hand

"Mrs Ootori let me help you with that" said one of the kitchen workers as she rushed to your aid, already grabbing a towel.

"Oh no it's ok, this is for Kyoya and I would like to make him tea myself, I haven't been in a kitchen in so long though it seems I'm a bit rusty." you laughed while running your hand under cold water.

The water helped soothe the burning but you would definitely feel an unpleasant sting later.

This time you payed more attention as you poured the water into the mug.

Looking through the assortments of tea you tried looking for Kyoya's favorite, mint and passionfruit.

You put the tea bag in the water and put back all the other tea boxes, you and Kyoya used to love buying exotic teas from all around the world and trying them. The thought of doing something as simple as drinking tea with your husband made you smile.

You picked up the mug and started walking out of the kitchen, smiling at the staff that were busy at work already prepping for tomorrow's meals.

The manor's halls were dimly lit and empty, Kyoya insisted on buying a big lavish house even though it was just you two most of the time.

Walking slowly as to not spill any of the tea all you could hear was your breathing and your bare feet hitting the cold marble floor.

When you got to Kyoya's office you knocked, and waited for permission to come in.

No answer.

You knocked again and waited.

Still no answer.

You grabbed the doorknob thinking you'd just let yourself in when you remembered what happened last time you walked into his office without permission.

A chill went down your spine and you felt a lump in your throat.

"It's okay, he said it wouldn't happen again" you thought to yourself.

Still you decided to try knocking one more time, after you knocked the third time you heard Kyoya's voice coming from behind the door.

"You may come in"

You slowly opened the door and walked inside, still holding the mug in your hand.

"How can I help you?" he asked not looking up from his laptop.

"I brought you some tea" you hesitantly put it down on his desk, your hands already missing the warmth the mug provided.

"I appreciate it, you may leave" he still wasn't looking at you.

"Actually I was wondering if you wanted to come to bed with me?" you spoke the words quickly and nervously.

"No thank you, I am quite busy at the moment and would like some peace and quiet to continue my work if you don't mind."

"You've been leaving earlier for work and staying up later to finish it, I've just been feeling lonely and wanted to spend some time together that's all"

oh no.

Word vomit.

You did not mean to say that thought out loud.

Kyoya let out a loud and annoyed sigh, he stood up from his desk and started walking towards you.

You felt your heart beating in your ears and a lump starting to form in your throat as his tall lanky figure approached you.

Already preparing yourself for the worst you closed your eyes and looked down.

"Like I said, I am busy at the moment with important work and do not have time to deal with you and your loneliness, will I have to repeat myself a second time?"

His mouth was right next to your ear, you could feel his warm breath on your neck.

"No, I understand" you said, voice barely above a whisper.

"Then you may leave"

you gave a quick nod and turned to leave, already feeling the tears in your eyes threatening to spill while he returned to his desk.

"Y/n, before you leave I ask that you learn your place in this house, you are in no position to waltz into my office and demand that I drop everything to spend time with you, do you hear me?"

You stopped in your tracks. His voice was cold and emotionless, the chill you felt earlier returning.

Your voice shook a little.

"Yes"

"Good, then we understand each other my dear."

You hurried and left Kyoya's office quickly, tears streaming down your face.

You had only been married for a year and 4 months, why was your marriage already dying? Before you got engaged you and Kyoya had already been dating for almost 3 years so you knew he did like you, what happened?

You continued walking to your room, the house's unwelcoming atmosphere making you want to ball up and cry even more.

When you got to the room you and Kyoya shared you frantically looked for your phone, turning over pillows and accidentally messing up the tidy bed one of the maids had made.

"Son of a bitch where is it" you thought while continuing to search the bed. Your vision was blurry because of the tears so that didn't help.

After 5 minutes of turning the room upside down for it you found your phone, sitting neatly on your vanity.

You quickly picked it up and hurriedly scrolled down your contact list.

Majority of the numbers were women from families Kyoya thought it would be beneficial for you to associate with, your actual friends and family took up less than 30% of the numbers in your phone.

After scrolling for a little longer you found the number you had been looking for.

You quickly called the number and waited while it rang.

"Hey this is Hikaru leave a message, or don't, I really don't care."

fuck

It was pretty late so he was probably asleep, but you decided to try again.

You paced around the room and waited while the phone rang a second time.

After what it felt like ages you finally heard a voice.

"y/n?"

Your spirits started to lift and a little smile crept up to your face.

"Hikaru? I'm sorry did I wake you up"

Hikaru let out a sleepy laugh.

"Yeah you big head it's almost midnight, its fine though, what's up? You sound weird"

"I'm-"

You froze, should you tell him?Should you tell him that your marriage was falling apart? That you felt out of place in your own home? that you felt lonelier then ever?

"I've actually been having a pretty shitty night" you laughed, mostly out of nervousness than joy.

Suddenly you couldn't hold it in anymore, tears started running down your face again and you let out a loud, guttural sob.

"Sorry I didn't want you to hear that" you laughed again as you wiped your nose with the sleeves of your robe.

"Y/n what's going on?" Hikaru's voice grew alarmed

"I don't think I can do this over the phone, I have to talk to you, in person."

"Ok I'll come over right now if you want."

It sounded like he was stumbling out of bed and putting on his slippers.

"Oh no no its fine, it can wait till tomorrow" you said quickly, even if Kyoya wasn't home you needed some time alone to think so Hikaru coming over right now was out of the question.

"Are you sure?" he asked, still sounding worried.

"Yes I'm sure, I'll talk to you tomorrow"

"Ok but are you 100% sure?"

You felt a smile creep onto your face

"Go back to sleep Hitachiin"

"Whatever you say Ootori"

You laughed again, this time a genuine laugh.

"Goodnight Hikaru"

"Goodnight y/n"

You hung up, feeling happier than you were before.

You threw your phone on the bed and went into the bathroom that connected to your bedroom to wash your face.

After splashing some cold water on your face you looked into the mirror and almost didn't recognize the woman before you.

What happened?

You had everything anyone could want. Looks, money, power, a rich handsome husband, a high status in society.

Your eyes didn't have the same glint they did back in high school, you felt as if you had aged 2 decades in just 8 years.

You and Kyoya had started dating in your senior year of high school, he was attending his first year at Ouran University and he proposed to you right after he graduated while you were starting your 4th year at the university.

You were happy, everything was going great, it all started going downhill after you got married.

Kyoya became cold, it's as if after he had you wrapped around his finger he didn't bother trying to please you. Sometimes you wondered if the only reason he targeted you was because of how it would make him look, but you couldn't think of a way in which marrying a commoner that was attending Ouran on a scholarship would benefit him in any way.

You tried forgetting those awful thoughts, no, Kyoya loved you, you guys were just going through some hard times as do any couples.

As you leaned on the sink staring at your own reflection you heard Kyoya coming into the room.

You took one last look in the mirror to make sure any traces of your crying were gone.

you turned around and there was Kyoya, silently staring at you while leaning on the door frame.

You didn't know what to do so you just leaned with your back on the sink while he slowly approached you.

He ran his hands down the side of your body down to your thighs and put this face in the crook of your neck.

He inhaled and exhaled, hands feeling the back of your thighs.

"God you smell amazing"

Just his deep voice close to your ear was enough to make your legs go weak.

No.

Sex wasn't getting him out of this.

Until he used words to apologize you weren't going to give him anything.

"I thought you were busy" You said harshly.

"I took care of things that couldn't be delayed, everything else can wait until tomorrow." You could feel his breathing speeding up.

no, nope. Until he apologized he would get nothing.

"Hmm" you said, still not giving him a reaction.

He seemed to pick up on your strategy because he lifted you up and put you on the bathroom counter.

The cold marble against your bare thigh scared you but before you could process the feeling Kyoya put his mouth on your neck and sucked the skin.

Since you were caught by surprise you couldn't suppress the moan that came out of your mouth.

"Now now Mrs Ootori, what troubles you? Giving me the cold shoulder isn't very nice." he was whispering in your ear while undoing your silk robe.

Your own breathing was starting to speed up and you could feel heat pooling at the bottom of your underwear.

"How about you try apologizing?" You didn't try to stop him from undoing your robe.

"And why would I do that?" he asked while feeling the exposed skin on your collarbone with his nose.

"For the way you treated me when I went into your office" You said, anger starting to return.

"To be fair you interrupted me while I was doing very important work and it made me upset, so who here should really be apologizing?"

He was right, you knew how much he valued his work time and you still interrupted him.

Ashamed, you put your head down.

"I'm sorry" you mumbled.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you"

"I'm sorry" this time you said it louder.

Kyoya lifted his head up to look you in the eyes.

"Good girl. Now, there are other ways you could apologize to me."

He picked you up by your thighs from the bathroom counter and carried you to the bed.

By then your robe was already discarded on the bathroom floor and you laid on the bed, just in a thin and short sleeping gown.

Kyoya took off his shirt and pants and straddled himself on top of you, arms on either sides of your head.

Although you laid there with your husband on top of you, all you could think about was seeing your best friend the next day.

A/N: Hey babes so this is just the first chapter, I'm definitely making this a slowburn so expect a lot of chapters. As a Kyoya girl this was painful to write </3, anyways love y'all!!!

#kyoya ootori #ohshc #ouran high school host #kyoya senpai #ouran high school host club headcannons #kyoya headcanon #kyoya x reader #ouran kyoya #ohshc kyoya #hikaru x reader #hikaru hitachiin #ohshc hikaru

[dreamylyfe-x]

you know i'm rewatching the gallavich wedding planning and i can't help but feel like i don't know who this is, but it ain't mickey! them writing him to be all specific about colors and sh*t, like where's the real mickey from s4 who was annoyed with that guy listing beer types? i get they wanted to do that dumb gag but they should've used someone else for it. i mean ian's the one who was always meticulous about details, they showed that from the beginning. i don't know i just found it so weird

Aw, yeah. I get that reaction -- I think it’s pretty widely shared. And I suspect that storyline did come from someone pitching “it’d be funny if Mickey was a groomzilla.” Which is an idea I find annoying. Because I find the whole bridezilla thing annoying. 

But... I kinda love it, to be honest. 

I really like the idea that Mickey has an aesthetic and some artistic tendencies. We know he draws. I think there’s some indication in canon that Mickey is creative -- both in problem solving and in, let’s say, his sartorial choices. Mickey seems to act on things a lot. He’s not buying those hoodies without sleeves. He is creating hoodies without sleeves.  

Ian IS meticulous... or at least, he’s organized. He’s also given to executing a plan that isn’t necessarily of his own devising. He is drawn to uniforms and he seeks out knowledge he can apply to systems and processes. He seems to have an appreciation for creativity and art, but he isn’t particularly creative himself. 

So of the two of them, I think Mickey is actually much more likely to observe the details and to have opinions about them. That’s still a long way away from having a meltdown about gold chiavari chairs with white cushions. I do realize this. And I remember how that scene came out as a sneak peek the week before and I was... concerned. But when I saw it in context, I honestly liked it. Not so much the scene itself, but the story of that episode. It’s pretty much the only ep that season where Mickey’s concerns are foregrounded over Ian’s and, though (as always) I would have liked MORE of it, I like that we got this one episode about what the wedding mean to Mickey. 

So here are the top reasons why I like and buy this story. 

1. Right off the top, I don’t think Mickey objecting to being given a list of beers indicates he’s not going to care about what chairs are at his wedding. Putting aside that he’s lived an additional five or so years since then, Mickey doesn’t get annoyed in that scene because he thinks it’s dumb to know a lot about beer -- He’s annoyed that Ryan has asked him a question he can’t answer. I’ve always thought of that as a class issue -- He has never been in much of a position to CARE about what he drinks, and he drinks mass-produced pilsners because that’s what everyone in Southside drinks, because it’s cheap. He might love a winter wheat. He has no goddamn idea, because he isn’t living a life where you get to concern yourself with whether or not you’re into IPAs or lagers. Mickey DOES like beer. I was surprised and delighted when he recently ordered a stout at The Alibi, because it does indicate that his life has changed enough that he gets to know a bit more about beer. That at some point, he had the time and inclination to alter his tastes. He might have a different answer for Ryan now.

2. That Mickey wants things. Just... I don’t know. Mickey wanting anything other than food, shelter and Ian gets me so much. Mickey attending to his hierarchy of needs legitimately makes me teary. For people who grow up like Mickey -- asking for things can be a very big deal. So the fact that he just decides he’s going to make a wedding happen -- and a wedding with nice flowers and chairs that will reflect the light (because, we find out, that’s why he wants the gold) and a singer who will perform Livin’ on a Prayer -- is a big deal. And as many have cited before me, it makes sense that Mickey wants a better wedding with Ian than the one he had with Svetlana. But what we also find out, when we get the moment with the vows, is that Mickey takes the whole thing very seriously. He delivers those vows with complete commitment and deep sincerity. So I understand why he wants that space to carry the weight of what is happening. 

3. Mickey doesn’t break the chair because it’s not gold. He breaks the chair because every single person he’s encountered that day is a fucking dick. And they’re being a dick about his wedding. Something he’s happy about, and something he wants to celebrate. And, honestly, he’s not asking for much. He’d be annoyed, but most likely not violent, if his father hadn’t aimed a gun his face and some random old lady hadn’t refused him as a client because he’s gay. Brooks -- who tries to gaslight and act like the chairs are the chairs that were asked for when he knows damn well they are not -- is taking the wrath for a number of other people. But to me, the most important line in that scene is “why does everything always have to suck?”

4. Another thing about this is... back when Mickey responds to Ryan’s multiple choice beer question with “how ‘bout beer?” Ryan covers the awkward moment by making a joke about his own sexuality. The implication being that relating to beer with the kind of detail traditionally reserved for wine, is not masculine. And the thing is, Ryan is making a joke at his own expense, but he’s also acknowledging something that has always been true for Mickey. That Mickey has to make sure he never, ever displays any of these qualities Ryan so casually exhibits. Whether it’s natural for him or not, Mickey has to avoid anything that can be read to be a stereotype. He has to be hyper masculine, both because he’s from House that Toxic Masculinity built, but also because HE knows, even when he won’t acknowledge it, that he’s gay. So when we see Mickey openly talking about what flowers and chairs he wants at the wedding, he’s letting out something that could very well have always been there, but that he never, ever would have expressed back in seasons 1 through 4. Mickey doesn’t kiss Ian for two whole seasons because he’s so messed up about his sexuality. I 100% buy that, at that same time, he isn’t acknowledging having opinions about home decor. 

5. I like it when Mickey defies our expectations. I’m find with him discovering or revealing new facets or abilities or interests -- what I don’t like is when they have him do something that seems more like a regression. The show lampshades that this is something of a surprise, for Mickey to want a wedding, by having Ian be absolutely baffled by it for most of the episode. But they also participate in the end. There’s an indication that Mickey and Ian plan the eventual wedding together, though I imagine Mickey’s stronger opinions took the day in most cases. And the gesture at the end of that episode -- a romantic gesture just as surprising from Ian as anything Mickey does in that episode, really -- validates Mickey in a way I think is pretty beautiful. Like... he gets to be a guy who wants someone to sing Livin’ on a Prayer to him while he holds his boyfriend’s fiancé’s hand. He wasn't allowed to be that guy for years. I like that he gets there. 

So. We might not agree on this, but I really like that you drew a parallel between that scene and the party scene at Ryan’s because I hadn’t though of that before and I think it’s a very interesting one. I also enjoyed thinking so much about this on the day that we mark their one year anniversary! Because holy fuck. Gallavich is married! 

#asks #once again I'm contrary #but I am always so grateful to be asked #and I am grateful for the opportunity to think deeply about how much of a triumph it is for Mickey to want something solely because #he likes the way the light hits it #mickey milkovich #Gallavich meta #shameless season 10