#ma ma ma ma poker face

[ghostskiss]

Poker Face

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x F!Reader

Summary: On an information-gathering operation, things go haywire and not in the way you thought they would.

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, little plot, poker playing, gambling, humiliation (? kinda), public sex, bathroom sex, oral sex (f/m receiving), praise kink, facial. No use of Y/N

Word Count: 3.9k

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You’re sitting on Ghost’s lap. During a high-risk mission of all things. You’re sitting on his lap, and you’re trying not to squirm on your Lieutenant of all people. Trying to push the haze of arousal burning through your body and mind away.

His hands are ungloved, something you’ve never had the pleasure in seeing until now. He grips your hips with them, squeezing you softly before easing away.

This game you two are playing has got to be the most dangerous one you’ve partaken in.

A few days ago, Laswell explained what had to be done. Price went over it with all of you in the 141. Two “civilians” in. Gather the information you need and get the hell out of dodge. You have no idea why you’re paired up with Ghost. He refused to go in without a mask, wearing his balaclava he uses around more civil areas. His real mask wouldn’t fly here. You all know this, yet they chose to pair you with him anyways. Seeing parts of him that you haven’t yet seen, actual human under the hard attire he wore loyally, is doing something to your body.

Your cover’s working, the two of you went into this poker game as a couple. It was private, Ghost had to be formally invited by an insider, the whole file on this particular op was large. So much planning had gone underway, Ghost was originally supposed to be here alone. Until the Task Force all realized going in without “arm candy” or a good luck charm was something unheard of with this group of men. Each of them around the table have their own girls on their laps, one even has two surrounding him. You don’t get it. This game hardly makes sense to you, and you’re struggling with keeping your own poker face.

You’re glad Ghost can’t see you, back pressed against his wide chest. You can feel him breathe, shift, everything. It’s the closest you’ve ever been to the man, and you wonder if he’s feeling just as touched starved as you, his fingers trailing lazily up the slit of your dress where your thigh peeks through.

He won’t stop touching you and it’s making you a mess.

When the two of you had first gotten here, you were surprised with how many women were here. How little of clothing they were wearing.

You’re wearing a tiny black dress, the straps crossing at the back, thigh slit showing too much in your opinion. If you happened to bend over, there was no doubt your panties would be on display. You feel naked and vulnerable, no weapons to protect you from harm. Still, it seemed like more clothing than the others were wearing. It was definitely different from your work attire, and you wish you could relive the moment Ghost saw you in this for the first time.

“Christ, are you kidding?” He’d said as he ran a hand over his masked face. Like he was pissed off at your fashion choice.

Your brows furrowed into confusion, “What’s wrong, Lt?”

Ghost’s hand stopped at his mouth as his eyes burned into you, trailing over your entire body before he finally gave you answer. “You’re wearing a tiny fuck-me dress in those shoes,” he points down to your heels that match your dress, “and you expect me to able to do this safely?”

Your hands fidgeted in front of you, “Well, they’ll check us for weapons anyways, so there’s no point in worrying about guns.” You explain, thinking he’s mad at you for not having any place to keep a weapon on you.

A frustrated noise leaves him, his eyes going dark on you. It made you squirm a bit, your breath catching in your throat. “I meant how in the hell am I supposed to be able to focus around you.” It came out like a statement, like he wasn’t questioning it at all.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, and honestly, a bit of something else. You had no idea that you could ever have an effect like that on Ghost of all people.

“Thanks, I guess,” you muttered uneasily before he opened the door to the car, ushering you inside before you could dwell on it.

You sure are dwelling on it now, as you feel Ghost take a sigh, chest moving behind you. You’re trying so hard not to fidget, not to do anything, especially when you think about how good he looks right now. How good it feels to be pressed against him, to have his hands idly touch you, like he isn’t even conscious of doing it. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world to be doing.

You feel him lean in closer to you, hand coming up to your stomach to press you closer into him. “Relax,” he whispers into your ear, causing a delicious shiver to march its way down your spine, “you’re moving too much. Pretend you like me and lean back. They’re going to think I kidnapped you with how nervous you’re being.”

You allow your body to melt into his, turning to look up at him. “I don’t think they’d care about that.” You whisper back, staring into his dark eyes. You watch as his gaze jumps down to your lips and he stares at them from a moment, hand on your hip tightening.

“Oi, love birds. Hands bein’ dealt.” A man calls out to the both of you, breaking whatever spell Ghost was just in.

Blushing, you watch as Ghost picks up his cards, keeping them close to your body. He’s got both arms around you, caging you into him. You stare down at the cards and look up at him to see if they’re good. Of course, Ghost would be the perfect poker player. Even if he didn’t have a mask on, you bet he keeps his expressions to himself quite easily. As you’re trying to study him, to see any slip on if they were good or not, his gaze catches yours, feeling him take a sharp breath in.

“Quit. I’m trying to concentrate.” Ghost almost growls out at you, making you bite your lip at the timber of his tone. It’s rumbling in his chest, making you shudder as you turn away, watching the others around the table take in their cards. Suddenly, a different type of tension takes your body. The air is thicker.

The bets in this game are questions and answers. Each player has their own set of intel, everyone here for a reason. Laswell didn’t inform you on what intel Ghost is supposed to bet, but you’re sure that it’s something that comes at a high price. You know that whatever happens, Ghost is trying to get the highest hand here. The higher the hand, the more you can ask of your opponents. If you don’t answer, you need to have a higher hand than the questioner. If not… you aren’t sure what happens.

Your gaze falls to the table. There’s a gun sitting there, gleaming in the dark light. A revolver, no doubt loaded.

The man across from you bets, eyes set on Ghost. You tense, but you can’t even tell if he’s uncomfortable from the notion that they’re all set on whatever intel he has.

Ghost gruffy sighs out, “Fold.” He sets his cards down on the table, sliding them towards the dealer. The rest of the players continue on, either folding or calling the bet. You can hardly pay attention; you hope Ghost is at least listening on the intel they’re talking about.

One hand of his is placed on the table in front of you, the other under the table, sliding up your leg, dangerously getting closer and closer to your inner thigh. In response, your body produces goosebumps, nipples tightening against the fabric of your dress. It’s too tight to wear a bra and you’re starting to regret it more and more this night went. A woman opposite of you giggles behind her hand, no doubt seeing your reaction happening right before everyone’s eyes. You blush fervently, grabbing Ghost’s hand under the table with your own, trying to get him to stop.

Thankfully, the men don’t care about you or what the woman is laughing about. They continue on with their conversation, as Ghost’s fingers play with your own.  You squeeze his hand, trying to silently tell him to stop, but he either doesn’t get why you’re grabbing him, or he just doesn’t care. He shifts under you, and you freeze, spine shooting you to sit straight up. From the sudden movement, the people around the table scowl at you, suspicion in their eyes. Ghost’s cock under you is hard and throbbing, pressing tight against his pants as you sit on top of it. You wet your lips, heart pounding.

Chuckling, he pulls you back against him, “Sorry boys. Poker gets her a little excited.”

The table around you bursts into laughter and snickers as you tremble against your Lieutenant, humiliated and turned on.

The round ends quickly, the dealer announcing for a break as he locks the cards in the lock box, ensuring no one is tampering with the cards. A couple of men start bantering, some of the women standing from their laps to head to the bar. You stay shuddering in Ghost’s lap, his hand coming up to brush your hair away from your neck.

A sharp intake of breath takes you as you feel him nuzzle his masked face into your neck, practically melting in his embrace.

“Bathroom. Now.”

You don’t need to be told twice as you stand shakily from his lap, gaze going to his as he towers over you. His dark, usual sleepy eyes are burning into you, something ablaze in them. It makes you want to bolt. Instead, you turn away from him as you start your way to the bathroom, jolting as his hand comes to your lower back, guiding you through the halls. The hand is searing hot through the flimsy material, strong and warm. You’re thinking about it between your legs as he shoves open the bathroom door, locking it quickly.

You’re staring at yourself in the mirror, eyes blown with lust, lips red from your constant biting down on them as you tried to keep yourself from making any noise. Ghost comes up from behind you, and you stare at him through the mirror. He’s so much bigger than you. You barely contain your gasp as his fingers trail up your bare spine.

“After this, you better be on your best behavior.” His voice melts into you as he presses into from behind.

“You’re the one who can’t seem to keep your hands off me.” You snipe back at him, irritated that he thinks you’re the one making it difficult for the both of you.

“Do you blame me? I finally get you away from everyone and here you are, squirming in my lap wearing practically nothing.” His hands grip your hips, pulling you against him, allowing you to feel just how much you’re affecting him.

Ghost fingers curl around the back of your neck, forcing you to keep your gaze on the two of you in the mirror. It’s embarrassing, with how your cunt squeezes around nothing as he makes you look. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you watch his movements.

He’s torturing you, really. That’s the only way to describe how he’s making you feel. His free hand tugs the front of your dress down, freeing your tits. A rumble comes from his chest behind you.

“No bra? Dirty little girl.” A hand cups your breast, squeezing and testing the weight before his fingers are deliciously teasing your tightening nipples. You watch his large hands play with you in the mirror, legs starting to tremble.

Ghost is taking his time it seems, and in the back of your mind you’re thinking about the poker game that’s going to start back up any moment now.

“Ghost, there’s no time for this, we—"

Your voice dies out into a moan as his hand dips under the skirt of your dress, strategically pressing against your throbbing sex. He makes a pleased noise, finding you soaking through your panties.

“Would you have let me touch you in front of everyone?” He asks, his large frame curling around you, voice in a low timber.

You’re shaking. Breaths coming out in shallow pants as his fingers tease your clit through your clothes. You can’t focus, can’t think straight as you watch and feel what he’s doing to you. His eyes are set on you in the mirror, never looking away for even a second. One hand on your tits, plucking, pulling, rolling. The other creates a devastating pace on your cunt, giving you enough to whine and whimper for him, but not enough to get you there.

He’s freeing you as much as he’s caging you, ruining you.

“Answer me.”

Tears start to pool in your eyes as your hips begin to rock, trying to create more pressure, but he doesn’t give into what you’re trying to do. You nod weakly, a pained whimper leaving your lips.

“Yes, Lt.”

At your answer, he rewards you with his fingers. He pushes your panties aside, collecting your slick. You both collectively groan at the contact, and you hear him mumble a curse behind you as he slowly eases two fingers into you.

“Bend over the counter. Keep your eyes on me.” Ghost says, hand pressing down on your lower back. You bend at your hips, hands gripping the edges of the counter. He flips your dress up and he lets out a pleased laugh. “Fucking pretty, that’s what you are. Look at you, fucking my hand like this.”

You moan out at his words, his fingers pumping slowly into you from behind, your pussy making lewd squelches with how wet you are for him. His other hand rips your flimsy thong off your body, and you gasp as you watch him shove it in his pocket. It should make you feel anything other than turned on when you watch him do that.

Suddenly, he’s dropping loudly to his knees, uncaring about the harsh ground underneath him. You can’t see him in the mirror from this angle and you start to turn to look down at him.

“Eyes forward. Don’t want to see them off yourself in the mirror.”

Following his orders, you look into the mirror, watching the surprise come quickly to your expressions.

Hot tongue, soft lips and scruff are pressing, licking, tasting your pussy. A long moan escapes you and you have to really focus on not looking back at him as he leisurely licks up your arousal. It’d be so easy to look. So easy to sneak a glance. You bite down on your lip as you try to be good. Be good. You’ll be in deep trouble if you look. Your thighs start to quiver and shake as his tongue latches around your clit, a hum coming from him, vibrating through your entire sex.

Moaning, you can’t help yourself. You can’t stop your head from turning to look.

Ghost’s got his balaclava rolled up to allow him to lick your cunt. Something about it, something about that he’d even want to do something like this, to you. To even take his mask off just even a little. Without any warning, as you’re looking down at him, you’re taken by a hot blinding orgasm. Ghost looks up as he continues pumping his fingers into you as he sucks and bites, his eyes burning into yours. It’s wet, it’s crippling and you’re thankful for the counter you’re leaning over.

He releases his hold on you, slowly easing his fingers out of your spasming pussy. You’re still looking down at him, sucking down as much air as your lungs are allowing you. He stands up, towering over you, allowing you to look at the bottom half of his face and you shake your head, in disbelief.

“I knew it. I knew you were too good looking and that’s why you wear it.” Your voice is shaky, a little nervous that he’s allowing you to look your fill.

“Quit trying to butter me up,” he growls at you, pulling his mask back down. To your horror, his face is still wet, but you have a feeling he did it on purpose. “You’re still in trouble.”

Ghost grabs you, spinning you around to face him, ass pressing into the counter. He lifts you up with ease, settling you down on top of it, spreading your legs with his hands on your inner thighs. He runs his hands up and down them lazily, feeling you up, making you hot and wanting again.

“I’m sorry –” You squeak and jolt as his thumb starts to press circles against your already sensitive clit.

“You distract me when we’re supposed to be gathering information. You squirm and grind on my lap like a cat in heat, wearing clothes that make all the men stare, and you disobey. You think you’re getting off that easy?” He tsks at you, looking down at you with his dark eyes, slowly pulling out his cock as he continues playing with your pussy.

You shake your head, trying to show him you’re sorry, you’re going to be good.

“Real cute. Try to be quiet and I’ll forgive you.”

Your eyes widen as you watch him stroke his cock, precum dripping from the tip. Your throat suddenly dries, and you take a shaky breath, trying to relax yourself. He’s going to the biggest you’ve ever taken, and you can already tell it’s going to be a challenge. You brace yourself against the counter, fingers squeezing the edges of the porcelain under your open thighs. Ghost steps forward, pressing the head of his cock against your soaking entrance and you sigh out lowly at the feel of him.

He's pressing forward suddenly, making you cry out sharply as he eases his way into you.

“Shh. Good girl.” He tells you, a hand coming up to capture the noise you’re making from your lips. His praise goes straight to your sex, his words making you squeeze around him, and he laughs lowly, “You like that? Like when your lieutenant talks dirty to you?”

Whining behind his hand, you nod frantically as his girth stretches you open. It hurts but it’s such a good hurt. One you know you’ll be aching for later. He stops halfway, letting you adjust until you’re writhing under him, trying to get him to move. He groans at the feel of your hips grinding against him. He sinks himself further inside and now you’re really a mess. You can’t keep yourself from shaking, from whimpering out behind his hand.

It’s thick and heavy, hitting every spot in you that you’ll never be able to reach. His hand leaves your mouth to grip your hips as his thrust pick up, the sound of your soaked pussy filling the bathroom. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close against you and he chokes at the feel of you.

“Fuck. Feel so fucking good, love. I’m the only one allowed to do this to you, make you feel like this from now on.” His head tips back as he lets out a low groan, your cunt squelching around him.

Your hands fly to his shoulders, gripping onto them for leverage as he continues his assault on all of your senses. The angle he’s hitting you in has got your core tightening, lids lowering in pleasure. His gaze settles back down on you as his thrusts jolt your body, the mirror behind you rattling. You don’t care how loud you’re being now, letting out a pleasure filled squeal, fingernails digging into the material covering his shoulders.

“That’s it, takin’ me so well. Been wanting to fuck this little pussy forever.” Ghost is growling out now, groans and grunts rumbling in his chest, and it sounds so good. Feels so good, you blackout momentarily, gaze crossing before he’s capturing your attention again, a hand gripping your jaw to make you look up at him.

“Focus. Eyes on me.”

His forefingers are rubbing and pressing against your clit again. You’re crying out as you stare half-lidded up at him, your orgasm hurtling towards you fast.

“Simon, please. Please, I’m going to come.” Tears are welling in your eyes as you try to breathe through it. It’s startling how close you are to the edge, on the cusp of exploding. Of breaking into a million pieces under him. Your hands paw at him, overstimulated by the deep thrusts he’s delivering into you, destroying you in more ways than one.

“Come for me, good girl.” He moans lowly, chin dipping to watch where you’re wrapped around him, watching his length glisten with your slick. You can feel his cock throbbing inside you, and it pushes you over the edge, crying out his name in chanted syllables, until it’s just empty choked air.

“Good girl. Fuck. Oh, good fucking girl.”

You feel like you’re short circuiting, going haywire as he growls out praises. He’s gripping you so tightly around your hips, you know you’ll have bruises from days later. A reminder of what the two of you got into. Suddenly his thrusts stop as he quickly pulls out of you. You cry out at the abrupt loss of him, until he’s manhandling you to the ground.

“Open your mouth, girl.” His jerking his cock now, as you settle onto your knees, mouth and tongue opening for him. A thumb presses against your tongue, keeping your mouth open and you hear him groan in approval as your wet lashes look up at him. “Fuck, stay just like that. Keep those pretty eyes on me.”

Your gaze holds his even when you desperately want to watch him stroke himself. His thumb moves and that’s the only warning you get besides a delicious moan he gives you as his cum hits your tongue and lips. The salt of it coating your throat as you lick it up from him, thankful for whatever he’s giving you. His hand halts in his movements, watching him pant out, shoulders and chest moving with his ragged breaths.

You lean up, sucking on the tip of his still throbbing cock and his hands shoot out to tangle in your hair. He pulls you harshly away with a growl and you smile innocently up at him as you let go with a pop. Licking your lips, catching any salt of him left, you watch him shake his head at you.

He leans down, grabbing your arms to haul back up to your feet. Ghost touches his forehead to yours and your heart warms briefly at the soft contact before he pulls away to help adjust your dress.

“Let’s hope we can both focus now. Game’s started.” He sighs out, his gaze trailing over you. You look freshly fucked and he doesn’t care. Doesn’t even care anymore about the mission. He wants to stay with you in this bathroom.

He fixes himself before settling a hand on your lower back, guiding you out of the bathroom, back to the poker table. Back to his lap. This time you’re quicker to lean against him, to relax, even as his hands trail up your thighs, reminding you he still has your torn panties in his pocket.

[megahorous]

Dogs playing poker [?]

[apho-sappho]

🧠 🪻 🍁♟️

>:3

THANK YOU <3333

I suck at board games so get ready to win a LOT!!!

[snowfea]

MACRON AU NOM DE JÉSUS C'EST QUOI CETTE MERDE

[lymtw]

Thinking of an argument with Toji that leaves you mute by choice towards him. He still talks to you and asks you questions, and while you don't turn away from him, you don't respond to him either. He ends up having to figure out whatever he needs on his own because after a minute or so you huff and walk away from the conversation.

"Mama," he calls from the bedroom, rummaging through his clothing drawers. "Have you seen my gym shorts?"

If he was able to get a word out of you, he would know that you washed them for him. Though you were still sizzling with anger towards him, you pulled them out of the dryer and walked them over to the room. He could hear your little footsteps as you approached the room, and when he turned to look at you, he noticed you were holding his shorts in your hand.

Your eyes were vacant towards him. You didn't want them to be because it sucks when you can't look at him with the endless amount of love you have in store for him. It's still there, but it's being masked by a poker face.

You toss the shorts onto the bed and leave. Toji sighs, irked by the fact that it's actually starting to sting now. Your disregard for him because you're ruled by your emotions and he lets things go too easily because he can't hold a grudge towards you, even if he feels you're in the wrong.

Toji never knew how much he depended on your voice until you wouldn't let him hear it. He depends on you to tell him where things are because without you they would be scattered all over the place. He doesn't know your method of organization, but somehow when he needs something and looks to you in order to find it, you pull it out from right under his nose. He depends on you to tell him he's doing a good job, and to tell him you love him, and just reassure him in general. It makes him feel good to know that someone thinks he's good enough, but recently the one person who feeds him affection like it's as important as food and water, has left him to starve. You haven't said a word to him in almost two days, and he feels like he's starting to go crazy. The sound of his own voice is driving him insane. It's gotten so bad that he had to make a mental note of how he's going to get you back that same night.

Toji leaves for the gym and texts you during his time there. He includes some images because it's now an unspoken rule that he always has to send you gym pics.

[ Attachment: 3 Images]

... 😳🤐

Yeah, I know you like those. I'll be home soon.

You take the time to doll yourself up while he's still out. It's for him, but you won't tell him that until you come back from your "night out". Really, you're just gonna go get dinner for both of you from his favorite little restaurant. You just want to see how far he's willing to let this go, because you're caving. You're ready to apologize even when you know he's not upset at all. You're ready to spoil him in order to make up for those severe feelings you held towards him. You're ready to hear about how stubborn and unbelievable you are for this little act you pulled.

You spray on some perfume and walk out of the bathroom, just in time to catch Toji walking through the door.

"Woof, where're you going, ma?" He asks, setting down his gym bag before absorbing everything you were gracing him with. His eyes flit up and down your body, lingering on the very bare skin of the legs that come out from under your skirt. He can smell your perfume from where he stands, its elegant scent masking even the smell of his own potent sweat.

You didn't answer his question, and left him to wonder why you're all dressed up at seven o'clock at night. Was it a girl's night or were you openly showing him that you have options? Did he miss a message or a call from you?

You grabbed your wallet and scooted past him. You walked halfway down the corridor of your apartment building before realizing that maybe this was a bit much. You would make him worry over you going on a five minute walk to grab some food? All so you can show him you're mad? You cracked.

🥟🥡🍜.

Toji was staring at his screen, waiting for anything from you. The screen flashes like some sort of miracle and your message is seen by him. He chuckles, feeling a sense of relief wash over him at the sight of your little emoticons.

You came back home as fast as possible, bags of food in hand as you patiently waited for the elevator to bring you up to your floor. You took your time walking through the corridor, this time, not knowing how you would react once you saw Toji or if you would immediately say something to him. You're ready to talk to him, you want to talk to him. You miss him, you love him, and you hate the passiveness you threw yourself into around him as an act of retaliation.

There you were, standing in front of the door, nervous beyond belief for what was behind it. You collected yourself and twisted the doorknob, ready to face anything that came to you.

Toji stood from the couch and walked over to you to take the bags from your hands. The smell of his body wash wafted into your nose. There was an imaginary white flag hanging out of your pocket, and it was about to fall out to signal your surrender to Toji.

He pecks your cheek and watches in real time as color floods into your face. It's one of the most adorable things he's ever seen—you standing there so rigidly afterwards. He gives you a soft smile and resists the urge to coo at you for being so cute. Instead, he heads to the table to put the bags of food down.

You shut the door, and within a split second, Toji was in front of you again. "Ma," he says, sounding a little more desperate than he thought he would. "Say something." You stand there like a statue—unmoving, but unlike a statue, you are easily moveable. Especially, by Toji. "Anything, mama, please." He crouches down at your feet, his warm hands resting on the backs of your knees and his cheek resting on one of your thighs. This position made it look like you were being worshipped by him, and anyone who ever saw him do this would know that it was true, because he worshipped everything about you. From the top of your head, to the ground your feet stood on.

"Don't you miss having my hands on you?" They glide up and down the backs of your thighs. He looks up at your stunned expression. You won't look down at him, so he gets to see the way you swallow the words dying to leave your mouth, and the slight widening of your eyes as he lets his hands roam your lower body. "I know I do. I've been in hell these past couple days." He presses a soft kiss to your knee, then one more on your thigh. "I didn't mean what I said. I don't think you're selfish, baby. Maybe i'm just a greedy asshole," he says, rekindling the subject of what led to your silence towards him. His hand maneuvers around your leg so that his palm is on your thigh, making its way up towards the inner part of it. "But, I know something," his lips trail further up your thigh, softly kissing your skin. "I'm greedy about you. That can't and won't be changed, even when we argue like idiots."

You put your hand on his head as he starts kissing up your inner thighs, making his way even further up beneath your skirt.

"Come on, my sweet girl," he murmurs, his lips meeting the front of your underwear. "Tell me you want me to stop. Tell me you hate that my filthy paws are on you, right now."

Your legs tremble at the lightness of his touch, and you internally cringe at how sensitive you've always been for him.

"Toji..." you gasp. You feel his warm tongue flatten between your legs, a slow upwards drag of the muscle makes your thighs quiver before him. You whimper at the damp warmth his saliva leaves on your panties. "Fuck..." you moan, breathily. "Don't stop. Stay there, please."

The first word you reintroduced yourself with being a moaned out rendition of his name was heaven reaching down to pat him on the back for knowing exactly what to do to get you to talk again.

"Open wider for me, baby. Let me see," Toji says, your skirt still veiled over his head. You take a step back so that your back is against the door and widen your stance a little more. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and you shudder when his tongue returns to slide through your clothed folds. He doesn't even need to produce that much saliva to drench the fabric of your underwear because you've done that for him already with your leaking arousal.

You shut your eyes and rest your head against the door as Toji continues his act of filth between your thighs. You can hear him panting below you, your taste pleasantly coating his tongue every time he sucks on the garment that clings to you.

You cry out his name with sharp breaths following, your fingers tangling into his locks, gripping and tugging as his lips catch onto your cunt. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," you grit out, whimpering at the contrast between his mouth and his hands. His hands offer a gentle massage to your thighs, softly kneading the plush between his fingers. His mouth moves purposefully because he knows exactly what it takes to make you fall apart with it. He coats his tongue with your essence every time he laps at the wet patch on your underwear, sticky webs of arousal connecting him to you.

"T-Toji!" You squeal, your cunt throbbing with every brush of his tongue. "I'm gonna cum... Fuck, i'm gonna cum..." you whine.

Toji pushes your underwear to the side, and glides his tongue through your generously slicked folds once and you're instantly arching your back off the door, squirming in his hold and moaning carelessly as he sloppily makes out with your cunt. He desperately chases the sound of your pleasure-ridden voice, wanting to hear the way it raises in pitch when he strokes you just right. He doesn't want it to stop, it's been too long. Two days way too long. You tug at his hair with one hand, dragging the nails of your other hand down the door. You breathe heavily as Toji manipulates your pleasure until your thighs are trembling.

Toji pulls away and lifts your skirt off his head. He lowers your leg back down and stands up from his crouched position. He faces you with glossy lips that shine with all the juices he collected from you, some of it drooling down his chin to give him an even more messy appearance. He presses his lips to yours, making slow movements to allow you to realize what is happening while your eyes are closed. You can taste yourself on his lips as you catch the rhythm.

There's a loud smack in the last kiss before he releases you, a feral look in his green eyes as he dotes on your blissed out appearance. You look too pure for someone who's just experienced something so sinful. "Hey, look at me," he coos, cupping your cheeks in his hands. "Look at me," he repeats, staring at you as you try to catch your breath with closed eyes.

You hum, rolling your eyes open to lazily stare back at him. Your eyelids felt so heavy as you looked at him, but you liked how vigilant he was being. It made you crack a grin, a small gesture that had Toji's heart thudding a little quicker, now.

"I wanna fuck you so bad, mama." His eyes trail yours as they look away from his gaze. "If this is your reaction to my mouth, I don't even know what to expect for when I'm inside you."

You look down to see what's been poking your thigh for the past minute or so, and it's the monster in his pants, outlined for your eyes to quickly spot and everything.

"Come on," you say, reaching your hand out to him. He takes it and allows you to lead him to the bedroom.

Toji shuts the door and locks it to give the situation a deeper level of intimacy. There's no one there but the two of you and yet you feel even more secluded by the gesture.

He wasn't aggressive in the way he bared you for his eyes. He pulled you close to him by the waist, your body against his as he peeled your layers of clothes off.

"Stay," he says, when you take a step back. He takes that step towards you again, placing his hands on your hips, and snaking them around to your back to locate the zipper for your skirt. He exhales through his nose, lidded eyes watching the longing expression on your face closely as he pulls down the zipper and allows the article to fall on the floor. His fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt before he fully slides his hands beneath it, and raises it up your torso higher and higher. You put your arms up and allow him to slip it off your head.

He makes haste of getting his own clothes off, a sly smirk decorating his face when he sees you admiring him from where you sit on the end of the bed as you take off your bra and underwear. You're forced further up the bed by Toji as he inches closer and closer to you. You reach a dead end and welcome the suffocating warmth of his body as he cages you onto the bed.

"Don't do that to me again, mama," he murmurs, before leaning down to peck your lips. "Don't let me talk to myself for that long when you have such a pretty voice to respond with."

You laugh, pulling a small grin from him. "I didn't think you'd care, to be honest. I thought you'd tell me i'm being childish or ridiculous."

"Nah, princess. I thought I was gonna die."

You giggle, pulling him close again. "You're exaggerating."

"You wouldn't let me touch you. Not even when we went to bed, so it was like we were friends instead of lovers sleeping together. Especially with how far on your side you slept."

"Oh, baby," you coo, pressing multiple quick apologetic kisses to his lips. He chuckles at the affection, and his eyes close instinctively as your kisses become more widespread on his face. He missed this more than anything. "What can I do for your forgiveness, my love?"

"Just let me fuck you, ma. That's all. Give me my privilege to all of this, again." His hand slowly trails from your chest to your stomach, a touch you longed for dearly during those two days that you verbally ignored him.

"It's yours," you whisper to him. You peer up at him with your constellation eyes, silently begging him to realize how much you need him. "I'm yours, so show me the use you have for the privilege over my body, baby."

He leans down to kiss you, softly. He's desperate for you, but his lips don't falter their delicate synchrony because of it. He guides the tip of his cock through your folds, rubbing up and down the slickness a couple times before slowly sinking into you. Your ability to tangle with Toji's lips slowly deteriorates, and your focus strays to the stretching happening lower down your body, so Toji picks up the slack and feeds you his kisses.

"Come on," he groans out. Not even he is immune to the rebirth of sex with you. You're warm and inviting, and you embrace the pain and comfort he offers every time he craves you or you crave him. This time is no exception. "Kiss me back, sweetheart. Give them all to me," he mutters, before attempting to connect his lips to yours again. You dig your heels into the mattress and your toes curl as you feel his girth continue to submerge inside you.

Toji cups your chin and uses his fingers to squish your cheeks together into a makeshift pout for him to kiss. He can hear your hummed little whimpers in response to him sheathing himself further into you. He was being gentle, because hurting you is a crime in his world.

"Fuck, I missed this, mama," he says, goosebumps rising on his torso as he drags himself out of you halfway and pushes himself back in again. "So warm..." he says over the sound of your pleasured moan. He sighs, a grunt following as he starts a careful rocking rhythm into you. "I could stay inside you forever."

"I could keep you here forever," you rephrase, gazing up at him with those eyes he unequivocally loves. They've reverted back to the default loving expression you hold for him, the vacancy of your previous gaze now filled with love, excitement, lust, and overall enchantment. It's a beautiful thing to see your hurricanes subside.

He leans down to kiss you again, distributing the kisses on your face and leading them towards your neck. You could feel his abs dragging up and down your stomach with every roll of his hips against yours.

"Mmm... Toji," you moan, bringing your hands to his back. One of them moves up to the nape of his neck, threading through the dampened locks of his hair, the other traces his spine to distract you from how badly you want to dig your nails into him.

"I know," he coos, kissing the spot beneath your ear. "I know, doll. It's always this good with you."

You gasp at the feeling of his cock prodding the more sensitive area within you. "Right there, right there... Oh..." you moan out, inevitably digging your nails into his shoulder blades while Toji directs his kisses back up your neck and towards your face again so he can see the honest expression on it. You're lost in pleasure, vibrating as another orgasm rushes through you.

"Fuck, mama.. let me-" he groans, outwardly losing it at the overflow of your juices. "Let me see those pretty eyes," he pants, gripping your waist a little more harshly as he feels his cock on the brink of expelling into you. "Need you to watch me," he says, taking in the way your lips part to release your sounds of utter satisfaction. Your eyes flutter open to center on his greedy eyes. You mirror his lustful, lidded gaze, the look enough to make him spill inside you, making your cunt even sloppier. "You're gorgeous, ma," he says, mindlessly, as he fucks into you with a little more fervor. "Fucking stunning," he mutters through pants, to which you respond with a sly smirk. The gesture lured a groan out of him and made his cock twitch as he finished releasing into you.

You giggle when he stills his hips. Your combined attempts to regulate your breathing fills the silence that follows. "What're you laughing at?" He asks, massaging your hip with his thumb.

"You tell me that all the time like you're obsessed with me or something."

"And if I am?" he says with a voice so deep you have to blink to see that it's still your gentle giant of a man. "Is it too much for you? Can you handle it? Am I suffocating you, baby?" he purrs, cupping your cheeks while leaning in close to emphasize his points. All it does is allow you to closely admire how handsome he is and really think about what's happening in this moment. This green-eyed, raven-haired man, with the prettiest pointed nose and the most attractive scarred lips, is bedding you, and doing it so well.

"Never. Come closer and bite," you murmur.

He takes your lips in his again, a little more aggressive than before. You asked him to bite, and that's exactly what he's doing. The make out has him rocking both of you a little faster, working you towards yet another orgasm. You nip at his bottom lip and run your tongue over it when hisses. You hum out a little giggle, and moan into his mouth when he jolts into you.

"God, i'll bust again if you keep doing that. I'm serious, mama" he groans, swiping his tongue over his stinging bottom lip. You think he's being dramatic so when he leans down to kiss you again, you bite his bottom lip and suck on it. You gasp, releasing his lip and stare at him with wide eyes as his excessive warmth spurts into your cunt, filling it to the brim and beyond, to the point of leakage.

"F-Fuck... you're terrible," he groans, shuddering with tense abdominal muscles as he lures the entirety of his orgasm out. "Cum," he says, panting as he picks up the pace of his rutting to get you to follow his orgasm. "I can feel you clenching around me like hell. I know you want to," he says, reaching a hand between you and him to stimulate your clit.

Your already labored breathing picks up and your heart is pounding in your ears aggressively as you roll your hips back against his. You whimper as you feel your peak get closer and closer, a cried out and breathy "fuck!" leaving you when it arrives, followed by high pitched moans that make Toji's heart race. You arched your back off the mattress as you reached the zenith of your orgasm with the help of Toji's finger rapidly rubbing your clit while he maintained his satisfying pace inside you.

You whimper, slapping a hand onto Toji's wrist to stop his movements on you. He smirks at the sight of your trembling thighs, your heaving chest, and the sound of your dazed hums. You always were such a delicate thing. So fragile that even with just enough of his attention, he could break you.

"Tired yet?" He asks, admiring your relaxed facial features. You nod with your eyes closed, your lips parted to release little puffs of air. "Thought you'd be. I'll go grab some towels for us to shower." He pulls out of you, taking a moment to admire your collaborative masterpiece.

"Baby..." you whine, sitting up when you feel his weight lift off the bed. "I can't get up." You dramatically let yourself fall back on the bed and stick your tongue out to portray your exhaustion.

"Get up, you faker. That's all you have to do and i'll take care of the rest."

"Too tired to wash myself right now..." you say, waking up for a second before closing your eyes again. Toji can see the sly grin on your face and the little shake of your stomach as you stifle your giggles.

"Guess you're too tired to eat, too, huh? You know i've got a huge appetite, and I could eat all that food you brought by myself."

"You wouldn't," you say, abruptly sitting up on the bed and squinting at him. "There's enough to feed three people in those bags."

"I've got the stomach of three people in one, so you better catch up before you're left with my seconds."

You sigh, too tired to move, but you get up anyway and trail behind Toji. "Baby, can you pleeease clean me up? I'm beat."

He puts his hands on your shoulders as he now walks behind you. "Sure, but don't complain when I take longer on certain areas."

[ink-perfect]

“would you still love me if i was a worm?”

how the east blue five react to you asking them “would you still love me if i was a worm?”

luffy

“would you still love me if i was a worm?”

luffy's eyes widen with excitement, and he grins from ear to ear. “a worm? that's so cool!” he exclaims, leaning in close as if he can already see you as one, ideas flashing through his head.

thinking for a beat, he continues. “i’d get nami to sew a special pocket right here," he points at the side of his hat, “put you in it, and take you on all my adventures!” 

he then starts imagining all the fun things you could do together, like bouncing on his shoulder or swimming in the ocean, completely unfazed by how strange the question is.

“worm or not, you’re still my favourite!”

zoro

“would you still love me if i was a worm?”

zoro blinks, taken aback for a moment, then chuckles softly. “if you were a worm, huh?” he pretends to think really hard, scratching his head, before a tiny smile appears on his face. "you’d be my little training partner. i’d make sure you get strong - maybe learn to dodge raindrops or something," he teases, his grin widening. suddenly wistful, he adds, “i guess i could even keep you in a safe spot...like on my sword…so you’re always close by…or something.”

“just don’t crawl away when i’m napping,” he continues with a smirk. “i’d hate to have to go on a great worm hunt.”

he then mutters “a worm? really?” but there’s a tiny blush on his cheeks, showing he actually found the question kind of cute.

nami

“would you still love me if i was a worm?”

nami raises an eyebrow, a sly grin spreading across her face. “love you if you were a worm?” she repeats, clearly amused. “hmm… well, i guess i'd have to charge you a pretty berry’s rent for that little jar i'd keep you in," she teases, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “and you'd have to pull your weight, even as a worm. maybe help me dig up some treasure, huh?”

she laughs, leaning in closer with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “but yeah, i'd still love you… as long as you weren't a broke worm,” she winks, flicking a playful finger under your chin. “and maybe you'd get to help me out by crawling up some sleeves during poker night.”

usopp

“would you still love me if i was a worm?”

usopp's eyes widen as he processes the question, and then he breaks into a big, excited grin. "if you were a worm? oh, i’d make sure you were the most legendary worm ever!" he strikes a heroic pose, puffing out his chest. “i'd tell everyone about the incredible, brave Worm Who Sailed the Grand Line with Captain Usopp!”

he giggles, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. "and don’t worry, i’d make you a tiny little pirate hat and even build you a worm-sized catapult! imagine it - you, flying through the air, saving the day!"

he laughs, his cheeks flushing a bit. “but, uh, just promise me you won’t wriggle away when things get scary, okay? i…kinda like having you around, ma.” he adds with a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his head.

sanji

“would you still love me if i was a worm?”

sanji blinks in surprise at your question, then bursts into a soft laugh, a playful grin spreading across his face. “a worm, you say? mon amour, even as a worm, you'd still be the most beautiful creature in the sea!” he takes a dramatic puff from his cigarette and swoons, hand over his heart.

he leans in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “i’d build you a tiny, gourmet garden with the freshest herbs… only the best for my little worm!” he declares, wiggling his fingers like he’s sprinkling spices. “and of course, i'd carry you in a matchbox lined with silk - gotta keep you cozy, right?”

he pauses for a moment, then adds with a chuckle, “though you might have to promise not to wriggle into the kitchen. worms don’t go well with soufflés, you know!” he winks, pulling you close to kiss your forehead, clearly enjoying the ridiculousness of it all.

-- ౨ৎ

masterlist

[hellishjoel]

new year’s day

3.7k / pairing: francisco “frankie” “catfish” morales x f!reader

12 Days of Pedro Masterlist | hellishjoel masterlist | notifications blog

summary: You’ve found fulfillment in every aspect of life alongside your husband, Frankie. In the early hours of New Year’s Day, you and Frankie discuss your aspirations for the coming year. Among these, the possibility of embarking on the journey to parenthood, starting a family, and conceiving a child may be at the forefront.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), established marriage, discussion of alcohol consumption, cursing, discussions about starting a family/being pregnant/having a baby, a few pov switches, mommy issues go brrr, use of pet names (princess, momma (x3)), frankie’s hot dad bod, mix of sub!frankie and dom!frankie, pinch of daddy kink, unprotected PiV, breeding kink go hard, dirty talk, overstimulation, hickies, titty play, creampie

A/N: thank you for celebrating 12 Days of Pedro! come back to the masterlist every day from Dec. 11 - Dec. 22 to open a new present from the most amazing authors! special thanks to the breeding kink queen herself @thetriumphantpanda for beta reading this work! banners, per usual, from @saradika-graphics. enjoy!

There’s glitter on the floor after the party. Not to mention streamers, spare party hats, and dribbles of wine on the hardwood floor. Spare polaroids with goofy grins and blurry kisses at midnight. You hold one of you and Frankie to your chest, your heart swarming with a warm buzz caused by too much liquor and a lot of love. 

Your eyes lift to Frankie, his lopsided party hat holding on for dear life as he tosses empty beer bottles into a large black trash bag. 

Everyone’s left now, catching cabs or a ride home from their sober counterparts.  An annual Morales tradition; countdown to the New Year with your closest friends, the ones you’d consider family. 

You hope to remember these memories forever and that the memories hold on to you. The good and the bad. The friends you made, the friends you lost, remembering that people come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. 

Cheers, kisses, and giggles at midnight. 

“You ready, my lady?” Frankie asks as he hands you your journal, his own leatherbound one in his hand as he settles down beside you on the floor, your backs against the front of the couch. 

Another Morales tradition; New Year’s Goals. It all started a few years ago, your and Frankie’s first New Year’s together. Both drunk and rolling around on the floor, you decided to write your goals for the New Year. You thought they had a lot of power, and it was good to have motivations, even if they didn’t last all year. 

The fire crackled as Frankie nudged a log with the poker, his face illuminated in a brilliant orange light. He was so handsome. You were so in love. You couldn’t think of anything else you needed, everything you wanted was right here in front of you. Well, almost everything. 

Frankie lifted a Pabst beer bottle to his lips, tilting his head back to finish it off. A wet smack leaves his lips. You smirk as you feel his eyes on your list, curiously leaning his head to the side to sneak a peek at what your pen was etching into blank paper. 

“Do you mind?” You tease, nudging your elbow playfully into his ribs. “You know we’re not supposed to share until we’re both done.” You whisper as you pen in another thought. You both agreed to list three to five goals every year, things you wanted to make happen, things you want to change. Whatever it took to better yourself and the small life you’ve created with your husband. 

Frankie radiates warmth beside you, he’s always been like that. Even in just a dark pair of jeans and a black Carhartt t-shirt, he was as warm as the fireplace wavers heat in front of you. You lay your head gently on his broad shoulder, humming softly as you close your eyes, the exhaustion of prepping and then celebrating your New Year’s party finally taking its toll. But you couldn’t help but be so full of joy, considering yourself lucky to be surrounded by so much love. 

Your eyes open just as you feel Frankie smack a period at the end of one of his goals making his arm lurch before he tips his head down to you. “M’ready. You wanna go first?” Frankie asks, reaching his hand up to pull the small party hat off his head, watching as he sits it down beside him very delicately. So precious. Your heart swells thinking about your list, slowly nodding and sitting up straight as you re-open your journal to review your goals list. 

“Okay, I only have three,” 

“Me too,” Frankie interjects. 

“Perfect, okay, so number one, I want to dedicate more time to be creative. Whether it’s writing, or painting, or… I don’t know, picking up crocheting, I want to set aside more time for that sort of stuff instead of brainlessly watching shows.” 

Frankie’s smile tilts, slowly nodding in understanding. “I’d love to hang up more of your paintings around the house. The walls could use a little color.” 

Your sweet boy. He was always so supportive. You sweetly cupped the underside of his chin and pecked his lips. Frankie playfully cleared his throat and states his first goal. 

“Number one. I want to eat out less.” He pauses as he assesses your pouting face. “Don’t look at me like that. We’ll still go out sometimes, I just feel like we should cook at home more.” 

You couldn’t blame him. All the takeaway Chinese and pizza deliveries were really tugging at the precious strings that was your joint bank account. 

“Fine. But I won’t be happy about it. And this sort of ruins my second goal, which is to try more restaurants.” 

You and Frankie both take a moment to throw back your heads in laughter, rolling closer to one another as he shakes his head at you slowly. “We’ll figure it out, we always do. And that’s my second goal, more communication whenever I feel like I’m stuck. I know I’m not always…” he pauses and fiddles with his hands, nervous ticks causing him to pop his knuckles, “M’not always the best with talking things out. So I wanna work on that.” 

Heat catches along your neck and chest, the way he looks at you with a twinkle in his eyes, as if you put the moon and stars in the sky. Your sweet boy. He’s not perfect, you both had worked so hard to get where you were, but it took a lot of time and trust. You built a solid foundation for your relationship, and now it felt like there wasn’t anything you couldn’t tackle together. 

“What’s your last goal for the new year?” 

Frankie watches as you purse your lips, eye contact straying as you stare down at your handwriting. Something hung in the air. Uncertainty? He reaches out and gently clasps your free hand in his, deep brown eyes searching your beautiful orbs in reassurance. There was that feeling again, of promise and future. More birthdays, more holidays, more anniversaries, and more New Year’s Days. 

After a moment, Frankie’s lips part as you set aside your journal, taking a deep breath. God what was it? 

“A baby,” you say in less than a whisper. 

A surprised little smile slowly crosses Frankie’s face, a glint of fondness and curiosity in his eyes. 

This wasn’t your first conversation about starting a family. 

It began in small places, like seeing children in line at the grocery store. All chubby-cheeked with big toothy grins, tugging on their parent's sleeve and asking them for a sweet from the checkout. 

Then, your mutual friends had their first baby. You were able to see them at the hospital. New momma laid back in bed. New dad sitting in the chair beside her. Tiredness in their eyes but their excitement overshadowed any doubt. You held their daughter, Elise, in your arms. So beautiful. And sleepy. 

But what really pulled at your heartstrings, and perhaps your womb, was when Frankie held his baby nephew for the first time. You both were in the hospital waiting room for hours, nervous but excited, hoping the delivery went well for his sister and for the new baby. 

“Come here, Frankie, hold him. Just don’t drop him.” She teased. 

Frankie took a step forward, then a step back. He had never held something so small, so precious, untouched by the outside world. What if he held him wrong? What if he cried and fussed? 

The warmth of your hand touched his shoulder, your small smile and nod encouraging him to be brave, to love the new addition to their family. With your vote of confidence, Frankie remembered to carefully support the baby’s head as his sister handed him over. Because, of course, she could trust Frankie. Uncle Frankie, now. 

His warm amber eyes glistened as he stared lovingly down at the bundle in his arms. He was beautiful, with dashing dark hair just like his sister had. A tiny little nose and sweet pouted lips. Frankie couldn’t understand why his eyes welled up with tears. He was just so proud to be an uncle, to see his younger sister now in charge of a tiny little newborn. He just couldn’t believe that such a beautiful life was born out of the love his sister and his brother-in-law shared. 

Then he looked at you. And he knew his heart was certain. He wanted this, and he wanted it with you. 

In all truthfulness, you weren’t as sure as Frankie was. You excused his excitement for baby fever. It was your job to remind him that you were still saving up for a new home, that your financials were a bit of a wreck, and that babies weren’t always soundly sleeping. There would be sleepless nights, messy food on their faces, and very full diapers. A big responsibility. 

You also didn’t come from a wonderful family like Frankie was raised in. You often wondered if you were to start a family, could you be different from your parents? Or would you fall into the same habits as they did? 

How would you be as a mother? 

You tried to remember that it was your mother’s first time on this Earth, too. And that she had it worse when she was little. But you were little too. What if you inherited your mother’s fleshy crimson anger? Or her blue-warped vision of sadness? 

What if something ever happened to Frankie, and you were left alone to care for your baby?  Could you do it alone? Could you even do it together? What ifs after what ifs. 

You cried out your insecurities to Frankie that night. Shaking and sobbing in his arms as he tried to calm your breathing. You had bared your soul to him, remarking about the childhood you wished you could have had. He kissed the top of your head and held you tight like a boa constrictor, promising that you didn’t have to figure it all out tonight. That he would drop the topic of family until you were truly ready. 

That was over two years ago now. Frankie still had that gleaming light in his eyes when he saw his nephew over holidays, birthdays, or little occasions of visiting with his sister. Soon, you started to have that gleam too. Because you realized it wasn’t only Frankie’s dream to have a family, but was yours too. Because Frankie would be the father of your children. And a brilliant one at that. 

The nerves had faded away with your husband’s endless love. And you were ready this New Year’s Day. 

“Say something,” you urged anxiously, but Frankie was just staring at you with so much love and hope. 

Finally, it hit him. 

He cups your cheeks, thumbing his way up your cheekbone and gently cupping your jawline. “You mean it? You’re ready? Don’t- please don’t do this for me, I could wait a lifetime for you, you hear me?”

You let out a wet little laugh and nod eagerly, holding your hands around his wrists as he came to rest his forehead against yours. “I don’t want to wait anymore, Frankie. I’m ready. We’re ready.” You assured, watching a large smile crash on his face. 

There’s an eagerness when he leans in to kiss you, lips crashing and his hold on you tightening as if you were going to slip out of his embrace. 

“Oh,” you whimper against his mouth, feeling him glide his tongue across your lower lip before he fully envelopes you. It’s needy, it’s desperate, and damn, is it overdue. 

Your fingers wind up into his messy curls, tugging him on top of you as you fell back onto the floor. The heat of the fireplace tickled warmth on your temple, and a certain heat in your belly set in. 

“Can we start now?” He muttered against your mouth, his strong hands palming at your hips as his center matched with your own. 

“Fuck, yes,” you gasp before pulling him in once more, your needy hands grappling at the hem of his shirt and tugging it upwards. 

Unable to help but glance in awe as Frankie sits up on his knees and tosses off his shirt. Holy mother of god, you didn’t realize how much of a perfect dad bod he already possessed. Jesus. 

“I-I don’t even know if I’m ovulating,” you stutter out as your hands messily reach forward, tugging his belt loose and popping the button on his jeans. 

“Don’t care,” Frankie mutters, voice drenched in deep lust as his hungry mouth found yours again. You couldn’t help but melt into his touch and his dirty mouth. 

The man was feral. It was like he was possessed. 

Something in Frankie had flipped. You had just confessed you wanted to start a family and allow him the opportunity to be a father to your children. You’d be their beautiful mother, kind, thoughtful, sweet, and smart. Fuck, he wanted to put this baby in you right now. 

He felt like he was burning for you, worshiping at the altar between your thighs. Saying you were ready with full confidence was something indescribable. And he was ready to show you he was taking this opportunity seriously. 

Frankie wastes no time in stripping you of your clothes, nearly tossing your top into the fireplace with how eager he is. He melts into your body, his half-hard cock sloppily bucking against your thigh in neediness. 

“Lemme put a baby in you, princess, wanna see you carry our child in your perfect body. Fuck,” he muttered as his hand slipped down between your thighs, watching your lips part and make an oh shape. 

Your slick coats his fingers, your thighs already shaking with desperation. 

“Frankie, don’t make me wait, want you to fill me up so fucking bad,” your wavering voice begs as you sit up on your elbows and begin to stoke over his cock. He easily swells in your grasp, growing heavier and heavier. His face clenches as his hips buck into your tight, squeezing hand once more. 

“Goddamit, you’re so fucking perfect,” he rasps as his own hand takes over pumping his cock, gathering it in your slick he had collected and letting out a heavenly moan at the feeling. Pre-cum leaks at his fleshy red tip, jaw tight as he holds his base, beginning to guide the head of his cock up and down your wet center. 

Frankie watches you flinch with a small smirk every time he flicks off your clit. He’s drunk off watching you be ready, watching you take this leap with him, putting your trust in him that he will be the best father to your children. And honestly, he can’t fucking wait any longer. 

Your sharp gasp fills the room, Frankie piercing your walls and filling you to the brim in one heavy thrust. Both of you swallow the other’s moans and groans, eyes tightly closed and mouths agape. 

“That’s it, momma, take me so well,” he hums, a new fantasy forming behind his eyes. 

He wants to see you dripping in his cum, just so he can gently push it all back in with his fingers. His eyes were gold with fire and greed, wanting you to be his in the best way imaginable. 

Ragged pants fill the distance between you both as he steadily rocks his hips into yours. Frankie watches as your hands scrabble for something to hold onto before you finally tug him down and wind your fingers into his dark chocolate curls. 

Sweet whimpers ring into his ear as his thrusts grow in power, caging you protectively in his arms. You weren’t going anywhere. 

“Fuck, Frankie, you’re filling me up,” you cry out, feeling Frankie hit the spot only he can reach, the one that tickles at your cervix and pushes you into another dimension of pleasure. The place where you’re breathless and cloudy, lost in how good he feels. 

Frankie digs his forehead into your temple, looking down at you as his hips repeatedly snap into you. He’s gone wild, a weak little smirk on his face as he thinks about you swollen with his babe inside you a few months down the road. 

“Keep sayin’ that,” Frankie mutters, feeling a rush course through his body like a new high he’s never encountered. He shifts his weight onto his forearm nestled beside your head, his opposite hand snaking delicately between your bodies and starting to create sweet circles around your throbbing clit. You’re soaking wet, feeling your slick splash against his balls every time you both fully connect. 

You’re unsure what he means at first, what to keep saying, your head in the stars as Frankie’s hips nail you to the floor with each heavy thrust. Plus, his finger on your clit is sending you to high heavens. Then it clicks. 

You gulp and refocus, needing to get him there because God, after years of waiting, you want to give him this so badly. 

“Frankie, baby,” you gather your breath and cradle his face, his desperate eyes meeting yours. “I want you t-to use me, fill me with your seed, I wanna feel it. Fuck, want you to be so deep inside me, your cum goes s-straight into my uterus,” you beg.  

Frankie’s thrusts snap methodically faster, a few loose bucks from his hips at first, but now he trying to control himself strategically. 

“Fuck, daddy,” you cry out, digging your head back into the floor as your chin tilts to the ceiling. “Use me as your little breeding whore, dump your cum inside me, want all of it, want all of it so fucking bad!” You whimper as Frankie’s sweet kisses on your jawline turn into nasty nips at your neck, the kind that will flush with dark pigments by tomorrow morning. 

Your hips ache, your body is trembling before him, but he looks so fucking sexy worked up like this. He’s promising with his body that he’s going to make you the mother of his children. 

“Want you so bad momma, m’gonna watch your tits get so fuckin’ big,” he murmurs before his mouth latches onto one of your nipples, slathering it with his spit and swirling around your nub with his perfect tongue. The oversensitivity is so much, you’re so full, he’s going to make you cum before he can even finish off his own load. 

“Fuck,” he moans lowly, a deep grunt releasing from the depths of his throat. “Gonna make such a perfect momma, gonna knock you up so hard, baby,” Frankie groans as he tugs gently at your nipple between his teeth. 

The spark in your stomach suddenly explodes, pushing you over the edge. You wrap your arms around his neck and press his forehead against your own. “Come with me,” you beg, just above a whisper as each thrust he makes is punching the air from your lungs. 

You pace yourself just for him. The faster he moves his fingers around your clit, the closer he is. Overstimulated tears well up in your eyes, your jaw dropping wide as you look at him like he is a God. Frankie’s thrusts were growing sloppy with need, losing their rhythm, your man was so close. Finally, like a dangerous volcano, he erupts inside of you as your walls pulse around him. Both of you come in unison, blasting you with a hot heat across your body. 

You cry out, and Frankie moans loudly into the living room, hearing your name echo along the walls as his hips still momentarily inside you. His warm cum spurts and paints your walls, shooting off multiple times. It’s the hardest he’s ever finished, he’s so deep and filling you to the brim with his white hot seed. 

Lost in a cloud of lust, you think you melt into the floor. His arms shake as he holds himself up by the forearms placed on either side of your head, your sweaty foreheads glistening. Your bodies feel like one. 

With a shaky hand, you reach up and gently brush the hair out of his eyes. Frankie weakly smiles and leans down to press a messy kiss on your lips. You hum softly and keep him there, whimpering as his hips twitch a few final times before he completely stills. You were seeing stars behind your vision as Frankie soothingly brought you back down to Earth. You were so happy. 

“I love you.” He whispers as he presses one last kiss to your mouth, watching your hazy eyes fill with love as he slowly sits up. 

Both of your sweaty bodies peel off of one another, and you hum lowly as he starts to pull himself out. 

Frankie watches in lust-filled amazement as your hole leaks dribbles of his cum. 

He shakes his head with a disapproving hum, parting your legs once more to see his mess, gently using his fingers to push his cum back into your hole. 

You nip at your lower lip, watching as Frankie stares at you like he’s hypnotized, making sure every little drop stays inside of you. 

“Such a good girl for me, momma, keepin’ all my good cum inside you, that’s it,” he hums, finally letting your legs go as he tumbles onto his back beside you on the floor. 

His hand holds yours as you stare at the ceiling in bliss. 

“We’re trying for a baby.” He whispers with an indescribable amount of happiness. 

You nod as you snuggle into his side, feeling his strong arm wrap around your shoulders to keep you close to him. “We’re trying for a baby.” You repeat back to him, your fingers gently weaving through his dense dark chest hair. 

“I have a name for the baby.” He murmurs, fantasizing about your future together already. 

“Yeah, what’s that?” 

“Frankie Jr.”

“No.” You quickly cut off. 

Both of your heads fall back in laughter, feeling so secure next to your best friend who has promised you a family and a future, all laced with love. And for that, you were hopeful for the New Year. 

[yunietunie]

Look at Me

(nsfw)

König was a quiet yet authoritative Colonel at the base. His eyes always seemed to look as if he was searching for something, wanting something. How long would it go on for before he caved?

fem!reader, colonel!könig, smut, MDNI, 18+, unprotected!sex, pnv,

A/n: this one has got to be my favourites, enjoyed writing it. This was one I had before i even started using tumblr.

let me know who you want next!!!!

König. The man you laid your eyes on when you first came to KorTac. Unsure if he’d ever look your way since you were just only a private, he a Colonel. You were a knife specialist, ranging in hand to hand combat, it being your strong point. In meetings you would catch his eyes darting to you every few seconds, obviously searching for something.

Months had passed and you didn’t really think much of König. Sure, he was somewhat alluring but he didn't even talk to you, and everytime you did he seemed to not respond back. He seemed nervous or something. But it was for sure, he enjoyed eye contact with you.

This game of cat and mouse played constantly with your irises fighting for dominance. Through his sniper hood, you could never tell what he was thinking or saying, his eyes displayed a poker face like expression. His voice seemed commanding in the field, but outside of it, he was very impassive. 

Whenever he did talk, it was never directed at you. You must admit, that man’s voice alone was enough to make you want something from him. Your fingers would fulfill your thoughts when you were alone in your barracks room. You hoped he never would find out.

While you were cleaning your knives from a previous mission that went sort of bad, you heard a knock on the side of the doorframe behind you.

“Verzeihung..?” The 208cm Austrian man asked you as you swiveled your head to meet his gaze. His eyes staring right down at you while he shifted his weight onto one hip. “Yes..?” You said quietly looking up to meet his icy stare. He looked… disheveled? Like he wanted to ask you something but was being held back by his own conscience. You raise an eyebrow to his stance and his sudden appearance. He was always busy… why was König standing before you at your desk?

“Can.. I borrow you for a moment, bitte?”His velvety voice corarsed you, with a type of uncertainty in his tone. He also seemed rushed. He motioned you up from the bench, hoping you’d oblige. You reluctantly nodded and got up from your seat. You thought it was to discuss your actions in your previous mission. But worst of all, you thought it was because he was going to ask you about what you thought of him.

 His breath would hitch in his throat as he would see you standing below him with a smaller frame than his own. Leaving the area, König walked down the corridor quickly, with you tailing behind him. Concentration filling his aura. As you both stride to his destination of his choice, your eyes landed on a door. His quarters. A thousand questions filled your head as to why he asked you to come to his quarters in the middle of your work. Opening the door and leading you inside, he closed it, locking it behind himself. Your eyes would wander around his neat room, everything was clean and well organized.

“Sitzen.” He spoke to you, motioning towards the edge of the bed. His sniper hood never dismissed from his face as he stared at you. You sit, he watches. You move, he took note. He was watching you as some type of prey. This raised even more questions as he began walking closer to you and looked down upon your body as you sat near the edge.

“I brought you here because it is more quiet.” König would begin as he watched your eyes for any expression. He was beating around the bush, especially since he was fidgeting with his gloves, slipping them off after a few minutes of contemplating. “Mein Schatz, I've noticed your eyes on me.” 

Shit. You were so sure he didn't see you at all. You seemed practically invisible, at least at work and rank wise. Yeah, the two of you would make eye contact but you assumed he didn’t think much of it. You only gave a nervous laugh, almost challenging that comment as he spoke it. You looked around the room, hoping to find some excuse, but before you could König would step even closer. “I don’t mind it really. Especially when I first saw you.” 

You were stunned. No, shocked that the Colonel would be talking to you like this. You couldn’t help but feel flustered. He still seemed desperate. Antsy even. He began taking off his tactical gear, tossing it aside, whilst keeping the hood over his face. 

“Have you been thinking of me?’ He asked the question you feared. It wasn’t really a question, well, since he already knew the answer to this. He’d catch your attention when he’d give meetings or when he was in the break room drinking some water. And what about those dreams?

“Yes…” You admitted quietly, a little bit embarrassed at yourself. This pressure began knotting in your lower stomach.

“So ein ungezogenes Mädchen.” König replied back with an airy smirk you could tell that was under his hidden face. You didn’t quite understand what he was saying, however goosebumps began to cover your skin. Your eyes seemed to drift away from his body, trying to think. He moved closer, towering over you, placing a hand under your chin to force direction back to his eyes. That only made the pressure in your lower stomach begin turning to a throbbing one.

“That’s okay,” He said as he continued looking down at you. He took note of your small squirming to readjust your sitting position. “Liebling. I must admit… I've been thinking about you too.” König continued his wording. In truth, you could feel yourself getting wet by the way he talked about you. The way he admitted he thought about you. So he did know and now he was just watching you. 

He moved closer, bending down to your eye level, which instinctively made you jerk your head backwards. He moved even closer. You moved back. He came closer. This would go on until he had you backed up against the headboard of his bed, crawling over your squirming body. Caught in a stare down between each other.

“I need you, liebling.” He said with a slight quivery tone, moving his face closer to yours. Your eyes flutter at the very thought. You’ve been only dreaming about this moment. Now he admitted he wanted you.

“Then you’ll have me.” You purred confidently as you stared back at him. There was going to be no hiding it now, especially with your slick folds giving away your thoughts.

You could hear a scoff given under the hood as he placed his thumb on your lower lip, looking at the plushness of it. He had you in his grips and he was not letting you go. At least not right now. König would take his time taking off the top of your uniform. He wanted to be gentle. He knew if he could, he’d tear you apart in an instant. Brushing your uniform top off, König’s eyes landed on your chest. It almost seemed like he was growing needy, especially as he rushed to slip your bra off.

Grabbing one of your breasts, he placed his other hand under you on the small of your back, lifting you slightly towards him. He moved his hood slightly up and placed his lips around your supple nipple. That earned him a small gasp from you. 

His tongue swirls around it, making it more sensitive with each movement. He occasionally nibbles lightly on it, sending jolting sensations down your body. While he was tending to your breast, he made sure to keep eye contact with you. How he loved your eyes when you enjoyed yourself, the reactions from them.

Soon after, he moved to your other breast, giving it the same attention as you gave small whimpers to the gesture. He removed his hand from your lower back and grabbed it on your waist. Giving it a gentle squeeze before letting it travel down between your uniform pants. 

Two fingers rubbing against the fabric of your pants. He was teasing you and you knew it. His warm wet lips soon left your hard and sensitive nipple. On top of you, you turn your head away to avert your gaze from him, only for him to move his face closer to yours and speak to you in a whisper.

“Look at me… I want to see your pretty eyes.” He pleaded quietly, turning your sight to his direction once more. He wanted you to watch him. He wanted you to watch him see how much of a mess he could make you with just a few words and a few simple touches.

His calloused hands made their way to your pant button where he unfastened them. Along with your top, he threw it down to the floor as well, disregarding them. König would look down and his eyes widened to the coated wet spot between your panties.

“So wet for me already, liebling?” He would ask quietly while rubbing your clit through your panties in small tight circles. He’d continue the soft motion while your body trembled at the gentle touch. His fingers tore away from your pussy, slithering them under the side of your panties. Sliding them down your ankles, he kept one hand on your hip for grip support.

“I need to stretch you out. Or else I'll break you in half.” His accent rolled off his tongue. He looked down at your folds, pushing one finger into your greedy hole. A wince ran through your body as he curled it. He was teasing you again. König put his gaze back to your irises that were pleading for more. His voice was inviting when you clenched around his fingers.

He began pumping your pussy, his finger coated with your juices, becoming more slick by the second. Small whines would escape your lips as you kept looking at the scene. The pressure building once more as your clit began to throb. 

Without warning, he pushed another finger into you, making sure to spread you open. If this is what only two of his fingers did to you, imagine what his cock would do to you. As he continued to move at a slow and steady pace, that needy aura gathered around him again. His other hand moved down to your pussy as well. 

Slathering his thumb with saliva from under his worn out hood, he placed it on your clit. The rest of his hand applies pressure on your lower stomach. König’s thumb began rubbing in small circles as his fingers desperately tried to find your sweet spot. The only thing to fill the room were whines and moans as you began squirming around him, not able to keep still.

You instinctively try to shut your thighs back together. “It’s okay, liebling. Open up for me.” König‘s angelic voice would command you. With that demand, you give into his authoritative voice. 

Your cunt was throbbing and it felt so good to be stretched out by your own Colonel. His fingers now sliding in and out with ease, due to your own pussy betraying you. He curled his fingers. He found it. The spot that made your body writhe under him. Your desperate moans got his pace to move forcibly, even on your clit. 

For a man who was afraid to talk to people, he sure knew how to ravish you. It was almost unfair with the amount of teasing and toying he did with you. Then it was nothing. He slipped his fingers out your vibrating pussy then placed them in his mouth under the hood. Sucking your juices off his textured fingers. You were left with a shallow breath. Well, that was until he unbuttoned his pants and slipped his cock out.

It twitched, his eyes never wavering from your glistening and watering eyes. He was painfully hard, and even though you couldn’t see his full face, you knew he wanted it badly. Wanted you badly.

“Bitte.” He begged, he pleaded, he wanted as he inched closer to your cunt that was still longing to be filled once more. Your pussy would clench at nothing, but the size difference made you turn your gaze away from him. The anticipation of it slipping inside was enough to make your body squirm.

“Look at me, liebling. I won’t do anything until I see your pretty eyes.” He purred looking down at you as the tip of his cock rubbed against your heated slit. You slowly turned your gaze to him with a hot face, your lips pursing into a fine line.

He toyed around your pussy with the tip, just trying to make sure you were wet enough for him. The same desperate eyes meeting with your own. A sudden pain filled your lower stomach as he began pushing his hips closer to you. His cock entering your slick cunt. He was just head deep and it felt like he was going to tear you apart. You look down at the damage but his hand moves to your chin to look at him once more, then back to your hip. Squeezing it. Preparing you.

“Jesu–” Before you could finish your one worded comment, his cock already smothered against your cervix, bending it into his personal mold. A grunt escaped his mouth as he filled your pussy up. He loved the idea that you were smaller than him. König loved getting this reaction of pushing his cock into your needy cunt and stretching it out.

You were a mess, especially as he began pulling in and out, admiring your face as he did so. 

He slightly whimpered himself when he looked down and saw the large bulge from your lower stomach from him pumping in and out. He was trying to be gentle. Trying to go at a pace that wouldn’t break you. He was holding back. He didn’t know how much longer he could do that. His eyes looked back up at you for permission. You give him a nod.

Rocking his hips faster now, your cervix was already beginning to become bruised. He was so deep in you now, you thought your uterus was going to break open. His body slapping against yours, your moans and whines, his grunts and groans were the only thing filling the room. His grip on your hip is even harder, making a red mark from his handprint. 

“You’re taking me so well.” König would say between thrusts. He would put his weight on you, his face close to your ear as he moved even faster. He tried. He tried to hold back but you felt too good. Your tight cunt wrapping around his cock like a fucking glove. There were no words coming out of his mouth and definitely none coming from yours as his tip decimated your violated body.

His other hand found itself on the other side of your hip, gripping it hard as well. Leaving yet another hand print. König would move his ear closer to your mouth to hear how good he was fucking you, how good he was filling up your cunt with his cock. 

“Fuck.. So warm.” König muttered under his breath while feeling your warmth engulfing him inside you. He began at slow paces, making sure to get you adjusted to his shaft. It twitched and jolted within your walls. In and out, in and out, his body now slamming against yours as he hugged onto your body. You arched your back in response, squirming and writhing under his thrusts.

He stopped and lifted himself off you to look down at the mess he created of you. There were tears prickling the corners of your eyes. His hips would pound into you vigorously, bruising into your cervix. He would grunt into your ear, wanting you to hear how good you made him feel. König’s grip on your soft waist would begin to become painful, perhaps even leaving a bruise around the area. 

“Bitte. Bitte, liebling. Let me please you. Let me fill you. Bitte.. I need it.” He pleaded with an airy and shallow breath as he was still deep in you. You couldn’t give a response right away as you were still trying to find words. Instead, you wrapped your legs around his pelvis and your walls tightened around him, giving his cock permission to spill into you.

A groan would expel out of his mouth, a few whines when he began to feel himself getting closer.

Another round of plundering movements would meet your cervix, he began to move with even more force. His breath was ragged and heavy, his chest falling fast. The bed shook under you, your vision was beginning to become hazed by the pleasure you felt. You couldn’t help it, you moaned his name out with neediness it was almost embarrassing. You cunt clenching around his cock, hoping to squeeze him off every last drop. 

"So close." He moaned out next to your ear, his hot breath trickling with a bit of desperation when he felt himself become closer to his climax. The feeling of being swallowed by your warmth was throwing him into a feral overdrive.

“Oh.. Just like that. Please.” he would whine whilst his eyes kept themselves trained on yours. You couldn't help but feel as if he was trying to spear you open, but you could admit that the feeling was immaculate. The feeling of your legs tightening around his waist only made his thrusts more forcible and his voice more prominent.

This guy was really plundering you down to the depths of hell. "Inside?" He asked whispering, his brows furrowing slightly. "Inside." You would confirm, your arms wrapping around his neck.

A few hard thrusts gave before you felt his hot seed spill into your insides. He let himself ride his own orgasm out, giving a few movements before stopping while still inside you. König would fuck up into your pussy and into your cervix, making sure that you’re fed with every ounce of his cum. His breathing was shallow yet heavy as were yours. Panting, he placed a hand on your cheek, looking at you in a fond way. 

“I might be seeing you more often, liebling.”

[slutforsnow]

As an apology for being dead as hell, i would like to provide this one-shot/oc fic of Billy the Kid from the TV drama series.

A Pretty Girl Playin' With The Big Boys

Inspired by Diva and Beautiful Liar

CW//saloon fight, western time period, poker, mild sa (like almost touches but nothing more), implied sh00ting threat, Billy is his own warning for being so hot, mentions of abusive ex, rape mention

She smiled to herself as she watched her brother Jesse play poker as she took a shot of whiskey sittin' in her chair like the cowboys so one caught sight of a woman planning to get in on the next game. What she didn't notice was that a man, around 2 years older than her, was watching her as he played. His gaze seemed predatory and observant as he played-like he didn't really feel like focusing on the game.

He took a shot of his whiskey as he showed his cards, and Jesse slowly set his down. He lost, and he looked pretty pissed about it. He frowned, clenching his jaw. He half-expected it but had some hope that'd bring home somethin' to his ma and Joe since Henry was injured. As Billy got up from his seat and place his hat on his head again, he noticed an oddly small cowboy take the seat that his opponent, Jesse, had been sittin' in as Jesse gathered his winnins.

"She's gonna get herself found out," Jesse murmured laughin' to himself. Billy snapped his head to Jesse, his brows furrowed in confusion.

'She? She who?' The brunette thought before turning his gaze to the mysterious she at the poker table. She had put a rather large sum of money on the table, causing Jesse to raise his brows, surprised. "She never bets that much."

'She's a regular poker player?'

As the game proceeded, the mysterious she kept quiet, only making noise to clear her throat or move away from one of her opponents that seemed off and tried to lay hands on her more private areas.

Billy kept a frown on his lips as he watched her discomfort, but every moment he went to go shove a man off her, she'd shoot him a glare as if to say 'if you expose me, I'll shoot you.'

As the game came to a close, she smirked, gathering her winnings as she won more than Jesse. The other men bet more in this game than the last one and were surprised to lose a quite hefty amount. The men were genuinely shocked, thinking they lost to a 15 - or 16 year old boy. One man, however, looked pissed and as the mystery girl began to stand after pocketing her winnings, he grabbed her arm pulling her down to the table, knocking her hat off and letting her lustrous curls unfurl from her messy bun that was tucked neatly under her hat. The curls fell around her face, and one strand fell in front of her face. Smiling awkwardly, she stayed still.

'Well shit,' She thought, freezing as the man froze. The gambler lost to a woman, and he was furious. A WOMAN beat his ass in poker, a men's game.

The saloon was dead silent as the sound of her hat hit the ground seemingly echoed.

"Now, sir, there's no need to violent its just poker," She said, trying to wiggle her arm free, only for the man to tighten his hold. 'Okay, maybe I'll need Jesse for this,' She thought, glancing to her brother and his friend.

"You beat me in my game. No one ever beats me," the gambler growled, grabbing his gun and bringing it to her temple. The man's words sent Billy's mind to the night Carlos was shot for winning and for being Mexican. He wasn't having a repeat of that. Before he could think, Billy spun his gun out of the holster, shooting the hole through a broken window, hitting an old crate which exploded due to the force of the bullet hitting such a delicate and old thing.

The sound grabbed everyone's attention, even the gambler who dropped his gun in surprise. The saloon was still in silence, watching Billy's next move.

"Let her go," He said, moving his gun and aiming it at the man's head. The mystery woman smirked in approval of Billy, liking how he was handling it. "I don't wanna have to kill you, so just let her go."

Out of pure fear, the man dropped his gun and let go of her, causing her to fall onto the floor with a hard thud.

Standing up, she brushed the dirt off her jeans and grabbed her hat, swiping the dust off.

"Gentleman," She commented after a moment of silence and bowing, exiting the saloon with Jesse behind her and Billy behind both of them.

As the three walked in awkward silence, she put her hat on, ignoring the stares from other women at her boyish appearance, aside from her cerulean eyes and ginger locks that had been pulled into a braid down her back.

"I suppose I should thank you," She uttered, smiling towards Billy and turning to walk backward, now following Jesse based on the sound of his footsteps.

"'S nothin'," Billy told her, shrugging as he walked behind her, but noticing her bruised arm as she pulled her over shirt off to check on the bruise. "You gonna be okay?"

"Oh I'll be fine," She answered, shrugging off his concern. "This ain't nothin' compared to my last man."

"Last man?" He repeated, staring at her puzzled. "What happened to him?"

"Jesse ran him out of town for trying to marry me while I was seventeen. Stopped him from rapin' me too," She commented. "Ex was awful."

Billy stared at her, surprised at how she could be so calm about it. Then he thought of something; she was so calm about it as if it was nothin' more than picking flowers by a river. It reminded him of how calm and unbothered he is to murdering, at least small animals and people who truly deserved it. He smirked a little before extending his hand to her to shake.

"Billy Antrim."

"Violet Evans."

[yeriyes]

R.I.P Sejanus Plinth you would've love Poker Face by Lady Gaga

"Ma Ma Ma Ma"

[stuckwthem]

dreams come true | joel 'de volta aos 15' x reader

contexto: a irmã mais nova de camila e fabrício tem uma paixonite secreta por joel, e em uma das festas na república, ela acaba o beijando.

wordcount: 3k tw: menção de álcool

sonhos são apenas uma manifestação do seu inconsciente, desvendando seus maiores medos, desejos e perversões enquanto tudo que você pode fazer é ser um mero espectador. é o que eu sei sobre sonhos.

e já estava mais do que acostumada a ter noites assim, onde tudo o que passa pela minha cabeça durante meu sono inquieto é: joel, o melhor amigo do meu irmão. 

mas dessa vez, havia algo diferente, uma sensação tão vivida que eu podia lembrar o gosto amargo da cerveja barata em seu beijo quando sua boca veio de encontro a minha, nos sonhos, é claro. se eu tocar meus lábios consigo ainda experimentar a sensação dos seus. e suas mãos…juro que a pressão de seus dedos em volta de minha cintura pareceu tão real que tenho medo de ter soltado alguns sons enquanto dormia.

apenas quando saio daquele transe adormecido que percebo ao me olhar no espelho, ainda estou com o mesmo vestido da festa de ontem e o gosto amargo de cerveja permeia em minha boca, assim como o borrão do batom vermelho.

e de repente, aquele sonho começa a insinuar na verdade mais uma lembrança. meu deus, eu realmente beijei o joel?

ao meu redor no quarto, anita ainda dorme pacificamente e rafa está laçada nos braços de whisky em um sono profundo demais para perceber que eu estou em absoluto surto no meio do quarto, tentando puxar todas as memórias da noite anterior enquanto meu estômago revira com a súbita realização.

aquilo era completamente normal, não era? todo mundo se pega em festas e a vida segue, mas não quando você, bêbada e passível de dizer atrocidades, beija o cara que tem uma paixonite secreta por anos.

é isso, me trancaria no quarto pelo resto do dia e evitaria a luz do sol tal qual um vampiro debaixo das cobertas, envergonhada demais para lidar com quaisquer que sejam as besteiras ou consequências daquela festa.

e se ele tivesse odiado? e se agora ele me desse um fora? e se ele nem lembrasse? e se de fato, tudo aquilo não passasse de fato de uma projeção no meu sonho e eu estivesse alucinando e nunca mais conseguisse olhar para cara de joel da mesma forma?

tenho que puxar o ar em uma lufada só pra voltar a respirar normalmente até que a linha de raciocínio em minha mente volte a funcionar, mas tudo volta para o jeito que estava me beijando ao som de poker face.

sério, eu estava ferrada. além do beijo, tudo que há em minha mente são borrões embriagados, uma dor de cabeça tremenda e já não me recordo de mais nada.

— amiga, tá tudo bem? — é carol que pergunta, por debaixo da sua cortina da beliche.

ela me olha com uma expressão preocupada, e eu pisco algumas vezes antes de responder.

— tá sim, é só…ressaca. — digo, como se tentasse acreditar em mim mesma e dou um joinha para ela, antes de agarrar minhas coisas no quarto e ir zonza rumo a um banho. 

meus pensamentos ruminam a todo momento para aquele acontecimento, e minha barriga gela toda vez que penso no instante que me depararia com ele. quando tiro meu vestido, consigo sentir o cheiro dele impregnado no tecido assim como o odor da bebida, e rio como uma piada de mal gosto comigo mesma. não poderia ter sido tão ruim assim, podia?

sem dúvidas não poderia ter sido tão ruim, constato isso quando vejo a marca avermelhada se tornando roxa no meu pescoço quando prendo o cabelo.

depois do banho, aproveito o raro momento de tranquilidade e silêncio na república. passo meu café, jogo algumas latinhas de cerveja de cima da pia fora, arrumo uma coisa e outra, e vou descansar.

sinto meu celular vibrar quando me jogo no sofá, empurrando os copos vazios de cima do estofado, e desinteressadamente desbloqueio a tela, esperando uma mensagem de meu pai, me desejando um “bom dia” ou algo do tipo, mas então meus olhos quase saltam para fora.

*sms:* joel: ei, você tá melhor? :p

quase cuspo meu gole de café quando leio a notificação, instantaneamente sentindo meu coração acelerar de tal forma que me sinto tonta. bloqueio a tela do celular rapidamente como se dali ele pudesse me ver, e coloco minha xícara dramaticamente de lado, forçando uma calmaria que não me pertencia naquele momento. quando olho para o lado, vejo a república dos meninos através da janela da sala, e num pulo levanto para fechar as cortinas, num ato de completa paranoia.

melhor? como assim, do que eu estaria melhor? eu tive um pt? ah não, me mataria se descobrir que vomitei na sua frente. não respondo a mensagem, na verdade, coloco meu celular bem longe, escolhendo fugir daquela situação, pelo menos por agora, como se ignorar seu sms mudasse o fato que joel mora a uma travessia de distância.       

meu plano de fuga estava dando certo. já eram 4 dias desde a festa e joel parecia uma figura quase fantasmagórica, mantida à distância graças à minha meticulosa e detalhada estratégia de evitar qualquer possibilidade de esbarrar com ele, o que me fazia andar pelo menos duas vezes a mais pelo campus em vias alternativas e até mesmo almoçar fora do bandejão. estava suando e me exercitando como nunca, com certeza. até ser, inevitavelmente, confrontada.

— espera aí, onde você vai?  — camila segurou meu ombro antes que eu pudesse desviar dela e de dom no corredor, sentido contrário ao bandejão. — não vai almoçar com a gente?

— é que eu preciso resolver um negócio lá na xerox e…— desenrolei a falar, sem pensar muito, tentando soar convincente.

— é, já faz uns 3 dias que você tá resolvendo um negócio lá na xerox. — ela rebateu, soando acusatória. engoli em seco.

— meu deus, você não tá ficando com o cabra, né? — dom arregalou os olhos, parecendo espantado com a própria suposição.

minha irmã reagiu da mesma forma, logo mudando a feição para um sorriso malicioso.

— não! pelo amor, não…— intervi de imediato, balançando a cabeça. abracei com um pouco mais de força os cadernos contra meu peito, morrendo para poder compartilhar o que estava me corroendo a dias. — o cabra até que é gatinho, mas não tem nada a ver…e ele já ficou com metade da faculdade!

meu rosto se contorceu em uma expressão de desgosto, reprovando completamente a ideia. bufei, agora sem mais saída, e puxei camila comigo para o final do corredor.

— é que… — ponderei as palavras antes de dizer, receosa em soar tão idiota quanto estava me sentindo — eu tô fugindo do joel. 

— do joel? — camila franziu o cenho, claramente surpresa. — o que ele te fez? mas por que você… 

— a gente se beijou na festa e eu tava muito bêbada e agora eu não sei o que fazer — as palavras saíram atropeladas, meu nervosismo se tornando escandaloso — e se o pessoal souber, meu deus, se o fabrício souber...

antes que eu pudesse terminar, minha irmã soltou uma gargalhada.

— cara, todo mundo viu você beijando o joel! — a partir do momento que ela diz essas palavras eu sinto meu rosto absolutamente pegar fogo. — tá de brincadeira? inclusive a hora que…

sua voz parece desaparecer no momento em que meu olhar é magnetizado para atrás dos ombros dela, mais precisamente, para joel que desce a rampa em nossa direção. o mundo ao redor parece entrar em mudo, um mero zunindo no meu ouvido, e em como um filme da sessão da tarde, tudo se move vagarosamente até o garoto estar à nossa frente, olhando em meus olhos, com o cenho franzido. ele com certeza ouviu o que camila estava dizendo e agora podia jurar que seu rosto estava corado como o meu. timing perfeito!

depressa, minha irmã deu um passo para trás, agarrando dom e descendo rampa abaixo para longe de nós, me deixando completamente em choque e desconcertada com aquelas informações, com a pessoa que eu menos tinha coragem de encarar neste momento.

— ahm…— cocei a cabeça, nervosa. minha boca abriu e fechou diversas vezes, mas nada parecia certo a se dizer, e novamente eu era apenas uma pré adolescente na frente do cara que nunca me daria bola. 

nos conhecemos desde sempre. crescemos na mesma rua, frequentamos as mesmas festas de família e éramos próximos o suficiente para ter piadas internas e conversar horas a fio sobre música, mas distantes o suficiente para que meus sentimentos ficassem escondidos.

joel sempre seria o engraçadinho, nerd e irresistível melhor amigo do meu irmão, o garoto que eu admirava em silêncio. e, por anos, aquele carinho havia se transformado em algo mais intenso, algo que mal tinha coragem de admitir para mim mesma.

— oi… — ele disse, com a voz tímida e me olhando de um jeito curioso, quase como se ansioso. — vai ficar fugindo de mim mesmo?

uma risada nervosa escapa antes que eu possa processar qualquer coisa, e eu bato no ombro dele de leve, embarcando naquela péssima mentira que tentava desenrolar a dias novamente.

— fugir? como assim? eu não tô fugindo de você, joel. — respondi, com um sorriso que começava a doer minhas bochechas.

— eu posso tá ficando louco mas acabei de ouvir você dizer isso pra camila. — ele refuta de imediato minha alegação, com os olhos semicerrados e uma risadinha sem graça. — você nem respondeu minha mensagem. fiquei preocupado, depois que você bateu a cabeça…

— que? eu bati a cabeça? 

joel acenou afirmativamente, o leve rubor se intensificando em suas bochechas enquanto ele coçava a nuca, visivelmente desconfortável. eu, por outro lado, sentia o chão escapar sob meus pés. 

— você não lembra? — ele perguntou, a voz suavizando com uma preocupação palpável. joel passou a mão pelos cabelos, um tique nervoso que eu já conhecia muito bem. — a gente tava dançando e…hm, se beijamos. e aí você tropeçou e…

claro que eu tinha caído. não bastava apenas beijar o joel bêbada, eu também tinha que me esborrachar no chão logo depois. perfeito. eu estava paralisada a alguns segundos, notando o padrão de decoração do piso do chão, constrangida demais sobre tudo. por onde começaria?

— olha, sobre… — o mais velho começou a dizer novamente, e eu gelei, pressentindo as próximas palavras que sairiam de sua boca.

ele ia me dizer que o beijo tinha sido um erro, que estava tudo bem, que não significava nada. exatamente como eu temia.

— não precisa... — interrompi rapidamente, levantando a mão, tentando salvar o pouco de dignidade que ainda me restava, se é que havia alguma. — a gente tava bêbado, né? isso acontece, e... e... podemos fingir que nunca aconteceu.

eu estava tentando ser direta e racional, engolindo aqueles sentimentos e matando sufocada a pequena fagulha de esperança de que aquele beijo pudesse ter significado algo a mais para ele também, não poderia ficar me enganando com essa quedinha — paixão — para sempre, mas lá no fundo eu queria tanto que joel me provasse o contrário.

seu olhar baixo me fitou confuso, como se não compreendesse o que eu dizia, como se tentasse juntar palavra por palavra. poderia dizer que até houve um vislumbre de decepção em sua expressão, a qual ele se desfez ligeiramente.

— na verdade, eu ia dizer que não rolou mais nada, sabe…quando eu te levei pra cama. — o garoto disse apressadamente, desviando seus enormes globos castanhos da minha direção. — mas você também não lembra disso, né? eu só fiquei te assistindo, tentando não deixar você dormir na primeira meia hora depois do tombo e…fingir que não aconteceu? 

repentinamente, ele repetiu minhas palavras, como se não fizessem o menor sentido, como se estivesse as processando com mais cuidado do que eu havia previsto. ele havia cuidado de mim até dormir, isso ecoa em minha mente como um sino alto e persistente.

um silêncio estranho se instalou entre nós, fazendo cada segundo parecer uma eternidade, os dois desorientados demais para chegar a uma conclusão.

— é... — minha voz saiu baixa e trêmula. eu estava perdendo o controle da situação, e isso me aterrorizava. — sabe, é o que as pessoas fazem nessas situações, né? bebidas, festas... ninguém realmente lembra no dia seguinte.

seus olhos subitamente me encararam com certa determinação, e eu podia sentir a mudança no ar entre nós. joel deu um passo à frente, diminuindo a distância, e de repente, sua presença parecia imensa, quase esmagadora. com o queixo ligeiramente inclinado, ele me olhava com uma intensidade que me desarmava por completo. ele estava ali, tão próximo, tão real, e ao mesmo tempo tão distante de qualquer expectativa que eu pudesse ter.

— mas eu lembro. — suas palavras saíram firmes, diretas, como uma confissão inesperada. — e eu não tô nem um pouco a fim de esquecer. 

o calor de meu rosto desceu por todo meu corpo, me esquentando por inteira numa sensação febril. meus músculos não respondiam mais, inúteis como se feitos de gelatina, e eu apenas conseguia observar por baixo dos cílios, incrédula e intimidada com aquela atitude que nunca havia presenciado antes.

— o que? — balbuciei, sentindo minha pressão se desvanecer. 

joel deu mais um passo, perigosamente tão perto que eu podia sentir o calor que emanava de seu corpo. 

— não foi só a bebida, não foi só o momento. eu te beijei porque eu queria te beijar.

minha mente levou um tempo para processar. a confusão, o medo e o desejo se misturavam em uma tempestade dentro de mim. o que ele dizia não fazia parte do roteiro que eu tinha escrito na minha cabeça. não sabia como reagir sentindo meu coração batendo tão forte contra minhas costelas que temia que ele pudesse ouvir.

— é sério? — o questionei, sentindo a ruga cravar em meio minhas sobrancelhas. o campus parecia vazio agora, como se tudo e todos parassem apenas para aquele minuto. — joel…o que você quer com isso?

eu estava desconfiada, com medo de que fosse abrir os olhos a qualquer momento e descobrir que aquilo também não se passava de outro devaneio. ele tinha um sorrisinho de canto nos lábios, quase tímido, mas como se soubesse de algo que eu não fazia ideia. 

delicadamente, joel levou a mecha de cabelo em meu rosto para trás da orelha, roçando seu dedo por minha maçã do rosto. me senti hiperconsciente de sua presença à minha frente, e agora estava tão perto que a frente dos nossos tênis encontravam-se. a corrente de eletricidade que percorria meu corpo agora poderia acender uma cidade inteira, e eu temia que se o tocasse, talvez lhe causasse um choque. mordi os lábios, resistindo em levar meus dedos até seu rosto apertando ainda mais o caderno em meus braços.

— achei que já estivesse óbvio. — o moreno deu de ombros, sustentando seu olhar no meu. apenas notei que estava sem ar quando tive de respirar fundo, ansiosa por seja lá o que estava acontecendo e seu próximo movimento. meu nome soou como mel em sua boca quando ele o disse antes de prosseguir, grudento e doce. — tô querendo dizer que gosto de você, e há um tempão.

cortem as câmeras, apaguem as luzes. isso era uma pegadinha? não, não era. e eu? eu estava parada ali feito uma idiota esperando as palavras surgirem em minha mente, que soassem a altura do que ele estava me dizendo, mas no roteiro original tudo isso acabava em mágoas e um pote de sorvete assistindo uma comédia romântica qualquer. 

— e você só me diz isso agora? — é a indignação que toma conta da minha linha de raciocínio, depois de toda aquela tensão. ele me olha surpreso, rindo, quebrando aquela sua pose de sedutor. — e eu tô aqui morrendo de medo de levar um fora. porra, joel! 

— isso é um…”bom, eu também gosto de você, maravilhoso e incrível joel”? — ele arqueou uma sobrancelha, a voz carregada de uma provocação leve.

o encaro como se estivesse sendo desafiada, e solto uma lufada de ar. malditos sejam os homens engraçadinhos. 

— não, mas isso aqui é — eu digo sem pensar duas vezes, agarrando a gola de sua camisa entre meus dedos e o puxando para um beijo. 

nossas bocas se encontram de uma vez, e seus lábios são macios e suaves contra os meus, assim como me lembrava daquela noite, apenas um pouco mais gentis. joel parece surpreso de início, mas logo uma de suas mãos faz seu percurso até meu quadril e a outra afaga meu rosto, removendo qualquer vestígio de confusão em minha mente, e eu me entrego a sensação, deixando meu caderno cair entre nós. joel faz menção de abaixar para pegar, mas eu envolvo seus ombros em meus braços, o segurando ali, lhe fazendo sorrir bobo contra meus lábios. havia esperado tanto, tanto tempo para isso.

o gosto de cerveja amarga de antes agora dá lugar ao hálito agradável com sabor de fresh drops de melão, e é um beijo tão gostoso e doce quanto a bala que joel tinha sempre na boca. eu me pego rendida a suas mãos e o jeitinho que sabe me segurar tão bem, movendo o rosto e explorando o beijo com tanta confiança e desejo que quase me sinto entorpecida, me detendo em suspirar seu nome entre seus lábios.

respirávamos ofegantes um contra o outro, as testas coladas, recuperando o ar quando se fez necessário. me sentia tonta, um misto de alívio e euforia me dominando, tão apaziguada quanto joel parecia, com o olhar sereno e perdido, percorrendo todo meu rosto. foi como acordar de um sono logo, sentia meus olhos pesados, a mente em névoas e completamente revigorada.

— e o que que a gente faz agora? — foi a primeira coisa que ele me disse, com os lábios rosados e o peito descendo e subindo acelerado. 

um sorriso escapuliu dos meus lábios, acompanhado por uma risadinha baixa, carregada de expectativa pela ideia que fervia na minha mente. levo minha mão a sua, entrelaçando nossos dedos e deixo um selinho em seus lábios, carinhosamente. 

olho para um lado e o outro no corredor, notando agora as pouquíssimas pessoas a passarem ali, rumo ao bandejão, e sem perder o calor do momento, não hesito em o puxar comigo em direção a uma das salas vazias no corredor.

— a gente descobre. 

estou completamente apaixonada pelo joel e vocês vão ter que se apaixonar por este homem nerdola engraçadinho também!

me arriscando com personagem novo por aqui! espero que tenham gostado <3

[cheemscakecat]

Um.. No?

So someone wrote a Dadspy fic where Scout knew the entire time and he’s indifferent to the reveal. There were big two things that didn’t feel right to me though.

Scout passive aggressively ignoring and avoiding Sniper after he died in the hallway in comic #6.

For those that don’t want to read this other post of mine, I went over what happened to Sniper in the comics and how that mighta affected Spy wanting to disguise as Tom Jones.

Now Scout wouldn’t think about the fact that Spy saw what happened, but he would eventually be pulled aside by Demoman or somebody and told about Sniper’s situation. Especially if he and Spy had a falling out.

So I can’t imagine him ghosting the poor guy to break off their friendship.

2. This:

“He keeps acting like he always did with Spy. The sick satisfaction he gets every time Spy follows him cloaked and takes a bullet for him in battle, tries to give him little gifts or start conversations only to get rejected with that poker face sliding over his features was thrilling.

But it got boring pretty quickly. Unfortunately, Spy didn’t leave him alone even after he yelled at him to go be useful for once and ****ing creep around the other Scout if he wanted to play follow-the-leader so bad.”

What do you mean you enjoy reaping the benefits of your father taking bullets for you, then rejecting his attempts to do right by you?!

It’s one thing if Scout doesn’t know the extent of how much Spy tries to help him, like protecting him from Joey Murders when his arms were broken in prison. I can see him forgetting the better deeds of his father in the timelines where he didn’t know the truth.

It’s totally different if he knew the whole time, saw Spy putting his life on the line for him over and over, and knew that Spy wasn’t using those deeds to try to force father-son reconciliation.

Like, he did not do all of that expecting Scout to just forget being left behind and let bygones be bygones; he did it because he loves his son. He doesn’t bring any of that up when finally revealing the truth to his son, and he’s left in speechless horror and remorse when he finds out how long Scout knew. So it’s really evil and nasty to take pleasure in hurting him like Jeremy’s been doing.

“Sniper shifts uncomfortably and looks off to the side, most likely to a cloaked Spy. ‘Nah, mate. Just about the… father… thing.’

Scout drops his stuff in his locker. ‘Huh? What about it?’ Of course he knows. Scout isn’t dumb. He sees the way Spy looks more and more disheveled each day, eating less and less, staring at Scout more and more.

Scout thinks it because he is at that age that he would start nagging his family to visit more if he had a normal life. If he had stayed. But he didn’t, so he doesn’t have one to nag. Not outside the base and certainly not inside it. Maybe it finally dawned on him that his only child knows him at a coworker level and wants to keep it that way. That the night he spent with his Ma practically doesn’t mean anything to anyone, not even Scout’s Ma, but him.”

Scout, how do you know that your parents weren’t in a relationship for a few years? You figured out Spy was your dad when you somehow recognized him at 16 in a random diner, so Ma had to have kept a picture or something like that. Ask yourself, would she do that for a random guy that she knew for one night? And would she keep that if he meant nothing to her?

… And he’s really gonna just sit there and watch Spy go into a depression or worse with no remorse. Refusing to go talk to him knowing he’s standing next to Sniper, knowing he’s losing weight in a dangerous way.

That’s not indifference, that’s called hate.

Me personally, I think Scout’s the type to say something really harsh and hateful, but not actually mean it; and that he’d feel remorse for it later. Not prey on Spy’s downfall like he did in this fic. Respectfully.

[bitchsister]

LISTEN TO ME. FIRE FIGHTER / PARAMEDIC BUCKY AND SASSY DIVA DAMSEL IN DISTRESS CURTIE. DO SOMETHING WITH THEM YOYO PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU ON MY HANDS AND KNEES

I love this!!!!! It was fun and cute!!!!!!

Curt was trying to be a good son — and this, he said as he’s lying in the grass, is the last time he ever does that.

He’s writhing by the time sirens come blaring down their little street, his body numb but filled with excruciating embarrassment as Ruth flagged them down from the house, “By god, Curtie. I hate you’re in pain, but these boys are somethin’.”

Tunnel vision had swept him away into a limbo, darkness invading his vision until it cleared again and he was face to face with a paramedic taking his vitals. “Hi, Curtis.” He said, and Curt momentarily wondered how on earth this stranger knew his name — and why was he here?

“Hi.”

Bucky was squatting in the garden with Curt, eyeing his leg that he’d broken badly. “My name’s Bucky, I’m a paramedic with the FDNY EMS, my partner Rosie and I are here to help ya.” Rosie waved from where he stood behind Bucky but Curt could hardly look away.

Ruth was right.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

Curt tried to move but Bucky held him in place, using a light hand to move his gaze back toward him and not at the bone sticking out of his leg. “Should I not look?” Curt murmured, his lips tugged into a frown.

“Think it’s better if ya don’t.” Bucky focused on him, blue eyes staring directly into his as Rosie worked on stabilizing Curt’s leg enough for a ride in an ambulance. “Tell me what happened, hm? How’d you get down here?”

Curt sighed heavily and wiped the sweat from his brow, “Hell if I know.” He grumbled, hissing when Rosie touched a particularly tender spot on his shin. “Ma needed the gutters cleaned — I ain’t ever done that shit before. Clearly.”

Bucky chuckled, realizing he’d been totally enamored by whoever this little stranger was in the grass with a compound fracture and more than likely a rather gnarly concussion, “Tryin’ to be a good boy, huh?”

Jesus.

“Y-yeah.”

Pain shot straight from his leg to his brain, causing everything around him except for Bucky to go buzzy and floaty, the grass suddenly feeling like a wet cloud and the man in front of him an angel. “You got pretty eyes.” He whispered to Bucky who grinned down at him.

“Was just gonna tell you the same thing, Curtis.” Bucky took a quick look down at Curt’s leg and tried to keep his poker face locked in, showing no reaction to the gore of it. “You ‘member my name?” He asked mostly because it was his job to assess Curt for any memory loss or brain damage, but also because he needed to know if Curt would remember him at all.

“Yeah. Your name’s Bucky.” Curt reached up to touch his face, his expression that of someone who’d just entered the gates of heaven. “Bucky.”

“Good job.” Bucky didn’t move away from the hands that touched his nose and his cheeks and then the little loose ringlets of brown hair that fell over his forehead. “Do you know what day it is, Curt?”

“Judgement day?”

Bucky snorted, “C’mon,” he felt his own heart flutter in his chest — c’mon, Egan. Be a goddamn professional. “You gotta give me a good answer, darlin’.”

Curt was giving Bucky these soft looking heart eyes despite his vision tunneling on him again. “It’s Mother’s Day.” He said confidently, “Ah, hell. It’s uh — it’s Sunday. Yeah. Sunday.”

“We got ‘em stable for the ride, partner.” Rosie clapped Bucky’s shoulder, giving him a look that told him he needed to reel himself in and get a grip. It wasn’t often he witnessed Bucky on this side of things since usually it was Rosie falling in love back to back.

Curt was put into the ambulance that Rosie drove, because Bucky had forced him to while he sat with Curt in the back. “How’s your pain right now, Curt? On a scale of one to ten. Ten being the worst imaginable?”

He thought for a moment, tried to move his leg.

He yelped.

“Nine?”

Bucky nodded slowly and hooked Curt up to a drip, hitting him with a little morphine that made him look even more out of it as he yanked the ears of the teddy bear he demanded. He didn’t care they were for the kids.

He wanted one.

“What’s his name.” Bucky asked carefully, making sure Curt was still alert. They didn’t need him falling asleep until they assessed him for further damages to anything internal. “Gotta have a name.”

“Cucky.” Curt blurted but immediately scrunched his nose, realizing it didn’t sound like the most pleasant thing to be named but it hardly mattered. “Curt and Bucky. Or — or maybe Burt.”

Bucky tried not to snort, his head hung as he laughed into his hands. “Let’s go with Burt.” He gleamed, and so did Curtis who had long forgotten about the bone he’d obliterated to pieces. “Cucky might have a hard time findin’ a job when it comes time for it.”

It was a whirlwind once Curt was rushed into the emergency room, everyone around him acting with the urgency that Bucky had suppressed just to keep him calm but the reality was that he had a bone sticking clean out of his leg, and he needed to have surgery before it was too late.

After a successful but very long surgery, Curt emerged from a slumber that sent him on an intensive journey of healing. Physical therapy, motor skill tests, hospital food, a lot of reality television, texts to friends, FaceTime calls, but just when he’d absolutely ran out of things to do, a knock came tapping at his door who he had assumed was his nurse, Becca.

“You ain’t gotta knock, Becks.” Curt sat up slowly and groaned, “You seen it all at this point.”

Bucky cleared his throat before he stepped in, closing the heavy wooden door behind him carefully before he plopped down in the chair beside Curt’s bed, still in his uniform. “Hey.” He grinned, “‘Member me?”

Curt couldn’t help but grin right back at him, looking at something new for the first time in a week that he’d yet to grow tired of. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about Bucky, and if he’d ever see him again. Though, “I kinda thought I imagined you.”

“Imagined me?”

“Yeah,” Curtis nodded slowly, “or hallucinated, you know? I was bleedin’ all over and everything was just so swirly and weird —“ he shrugged, his cheeks red because he realized he’d been rambling. “Anyway. Did you come back for Burt?”

Burt had been Curt’s only real reminder that Bucky was real, and that the whole thing had really happened. “No,” Bucky couldn’t help but laugh, “I just came to check in on ya.”

“You do that with everybody you throw into a three-thousand dollar ambulance ride?” He cocked an eyebrow, having grown tired of listening to Ruthie spout off about how expensive one was, not to mention the surgery to put Curt’s leg back together.

I was tryin’ to be a good son, ma!

Well you oughta just stay on the ground for that next time.

“No.” Bucky said again, but softer that time.

“Ahh,” Curt rose his brows and nodded, like he was understanding something but he was so very far from understanding why Bucky had come here at all — he was busy, Curt assumed. Where did he find the time to swoop in here?

Bucky’s radio pinged, a noise that reminded Curtis of the ambulance ride that grew less and less foggy as the days went by, “I gotta go,” He stood slowly and held his hand out. “Give me your phone.”

Curt’s brows furrowed as he clutched his phone, the only sense of entertainment or connection the outside world he’s gotten in the last week, to his chest. “No — wait - why?”

“To put my number in it, Curt.”

“Oh.”

Bucky typed away into Curt’s phone, sending himself a text from it so he didn’t leave the room without getting Curt’s in return. “I’m off Tuesdays and Wednesdays.” He handed Curt’s phone back to him, resisting every urge he had to violate that precious mouth that hung open with his own. “Let me know when they get you up outta this joint.”

Curt had looked astonished, but nodded his head slowly as he stared at the phone in his hand, the text he’d sent to his own phone from Curt’s staring right back at him.

Bucky ;)

[dr4k3n0]

'Drawn to You'

A/n: I've read a few different types of soulmate AU's in the past and I've always wanted to write one.. So this is a soulmate AU and whatever you draw on your skin, appears on your soulmate's skin. Enjoy!

Synopsis: You find out that what you write or draw on your skin appears on your soulmate's skin.

TW: None

Word Count: 1.1k

You sat bored and tired in a large tavern. Your friends had convinced you to come with them to a tavern for a few drinks but you didn't have any drinks besides a small glass of water. You watched as the people danced and played poker while your friends sat with these new men they just met. Rolling your eyes, you took out a pen and began to draw a random face on your hand. You smiled at the way it looked, before drawing an outline around it and adding a ridiculous haircut to it. Giving it a name, you rolled up your sleeve to draw more. At that moment, you were very happy that you brought a pen with you. It satisfied your boredom for a bit, before your friends began to stir up trouble and you had to walk them home. 

 Meanwhile, Vash and the crew had just settled in a small town and found a cheap hotel to stay the night. They all split ways and went to their individual rooms. Vash entered his room with a stretch before messily kicking off his boots and taking off his warm jacket. He ran his hand through his hair gently, before noticing the creation you had made.

"What the-" Vash said confused.

He didn't remember drawing that.. and he couldn't draw that well anyway. He went to the small bathroom and rolled up his sleeve as he went to wash it off.

"There's more?!" Vash exclaimed seeing the other drawing going up his arm.

He turned on the faucet and began to scrub at the ink but it wouldn't budge.

He scrubbed at the ink for a good 10 minutes before giving up seeing that it didn't even fade. He sighed confused before calling it a night and heading to bed. He thought for a while trying to figure out where these drawings came from, before finally drifting off to sleep. The night seemed to pass by way too fast and the next thing blonde knew, it was morning. He sat up groggily before remembering the drawing on his hand and arm. Sure enough, they weren't there.. Was this all a dream? He thought confused. Seeing a small pen on his bedside table, an idea popped into his head. He decided to draw a very messy-looking flower with a smiley face. He smiled before getting ready and meeting the others.

Now, you had just begun to wake up and decided to start getting ready for work. You worked at a small family-owned business as a waitress. The family was always very kind to you and enjoyed working with you. Stretching, you stood up and got changed. After that, you grabbed a small apple, before putting it in your mouth, and walking out of your house. You eventually made it to work, being greeted by the owner's children and the pleasant aroma of baked goods. You smiled down at the children as they were excited you had arrived. They eventually grabbed your hand and looked at the poorly drawn flower on your hand.

"Did you draw that Y/n?" The child said curiously.

"What do you mean?" You said as you looked down at your hand and saw the flower. 

What in the world-? You thought confused. 

Examining your hand, you brushed off the confusion before heading in. You started to work, still thinking about the drawing on your hand. How did it get there? What's happening? That was all you thought. You began to sweep the floor a bit, deep in thought as you worked before being startled by a voice.

"Y/n?" A woman's voice said. Snapping out of your thoughts, you looked at the woman who just so happened to be your boss.

"Yes ma'am?" You said smiling a little.

"How many times have I told you that you don't have to call me that, just call me Jess," She said smiling at you.

"Sorry ma- I mean Jess," You said smiling awkwardly.

"What's troubling you?" Jess said.

Surprised by her question, you reply with, "Oh it's nothing, I just woke up with a drawing on my hand that I don't remember drawing and I'm confused about how it appeared," 

Her eyes widen as she smiles at you. "Y/n I think you found your soulmate!" She said excitedly for you.

"What? What do you mean?" You asked confused.

"When you reach a certain age, when you draw or write on your skin they show up on your soulmates," She explained.

You looked at her confused not sure if you should believe it.

"That's how I met my husband," She said happily.

"So your saying, my soulmate drew this on me?" You asked confused.

She nodded happily at you before a customer walked in. "Oh, let's talk later, we have a customer," She beamed at you. 

A soulmate..? You thought confused. Taking out your pen, you decided to quickly write a small "Hi" on your hand before hurrying off to take the orders. 

Vash sat in the hot car, with little leg space, trying to sleep away the time before he felt a small itch on his hand.

He looked at it confused before seeing a small "Hi" In messy handwriting.

He gasped quietly and was confused seeing the word.

He pulled out the pen he may or may not have stolen from the hotel before writing a small "Hello" below it.

He sighed as he clicked the pen before putting it back in his pocket and trying to sleep again.

Soon another itch appeared on his hand and he looked down at it seeing the words: "What the heck-"

He chuckled a little bit before writing, "What?".

This time he watched as the writing appeared letter by letter on his hand. "This can't be happening-" The words spelled out. 

Looking at the words confused before writing back, "What do you mean? What's going on?"

"Is this a real person writing this?" Another set of words said.

"Yes?" He wrote.

The words stopped replying for a moment before saying, "I'll get back to you in about an hour I'm working right now.."

"That's fine Cya I guess?" Vash wrote back.

He looked at his hand confused before hearing a nosy Wolfwood. "So you got  a soulmate now Needle-Noggin?" Wolfwood said grinning mischievously.

"Is that what that is?" Vash asked confused.

"Yea that's what it is. You don't know about soulmates?" Wolfwood said laughing at him.

"Shut up," Vash said annoyed as he propped his arm up and looked out the window. 

Soulmates huh?

Pt.2 maybe? Lemme know what yall think. Anyway hope you enjoyed. Thanks for reading!

[crazychaoticizzy]

Good Grief Part I

Erwin Smith X Reader

Sometimes, the things that seem good for us cause us the most grief, and that is why we should always think through our choices.

WARNINGS: this chapter is mostly fluff however the series is angst, canonverse, suggestive, fade to black, underage drinking, insta love, the opposite of a slow burn we went fast, teenage pregnancy, angst at the end, I think that’s it but let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 15.6k (i'm so sorry because it’s no where near over)

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You couldn’t find it in yourself to cry.

Here you were, standing beside your sister at your husband’s funeral and you weren’t crying.

The promise you made to yourself must have applied when he was dead, as well. You truly had no more tears to shed for this man.

You hold a poker face during the service, and when you go up to collect the folded flag and bolo tie that belonged to him, you bow your head and quietly thank Hange, the new commander.

Even Hange can see that you could care less.

You almost worry about how showing no emotion could change your reputation, but as you hand your daughter the things you were given and begin to wheel her to the side of the stage, you decide you don’t care.

You look out at the soldiers Erwin led with a blank face, showing no sympathy for your dearly beloved.

You wonder where it was that everything went wrong—where your marriage to the famous Erwin Smith began going downhill.

There are multiple points in time it could have started, you suppose. It’s difficult to pinpoint exactly when it was, since looking back he truly hadn’t changed like you claimed he had in your last argument.

Perhaps everything was set in motion as early as the night you met him . . .

—

It was a dangerously hot day, the hottest of the summer.

It was busy at the bar, which made an excessive amount of work for both you and your sister that neither of you wanted to do.

You spent your shift pushing forward, constantly keeping the thought of moving out and finding a different job as soon as you could in the back of your mind.

Sure, there was a certain charm to the family owned bar, but it always got so tiring. Patrons were nice enough when sober, but as soon as they had one too many drinks the groping and ogling would begin. Whether it be to employees or other customers, a woman was always getting catcalled.

Your sister, however, didn’t seem to mind it. In fact, Marie always continued work with a soft smile on her face no matter what happened. There would always be talk about how she would be the next to run the bar, as there was no son to inherit it. It made sense, for even when Marie seemed stressed she was always found serving drinks and food.

Sometimes, you thought the bar was her happy place.

You were just beginning to open a keg when he walked in, tall and blond and oh, so handsome. Your heart practically skipped a beat, and you swore you fell in love.

However ridiculous you believed love at first sight to be, there was no denying the attraction you felt toward him since the moment you laid eyes on him.

“Y/n, are you alright?”

You hummed, abruptly peeling your gaze away from the blond and turning to Marie. “What? Oh, yes. I’m fine.”

Marie raised a perfect eyebrow. “Sure? Because you’re spilling beer all over your skirt.”

A soft look of confusion crossed your face, and you started to deny her before you looked down, noticing the new wet spot on the side of your dress.

“Oh!” You flipped the switch on the keg, stopping the flow of alcohol. “Right.” You nervously chuckled, setting the cup you were filling on the counter and grabbing a few napkins. You lifted your skirt and attempted to clean it off, but to no avail. The patch barely dried and you knew it would be weeks before both the smell and the stain would come out.

You sighed, dropping your skirt and tossing the used napkins in the trash. “I’ll have to go change,” you quietly complained to yourself, looking over your skirt again.

Marie hummed, but she was distracted. Her gaze had moved toward the direction you were looking in before she caught your attention. When she saw the two boys (both cadets, they had told her. They came to the bar quite often), she smiled.

“Oh, one of them,” she said. Her smile and tone were suggestive, and you looked up curiously from the lilt in her voice.

“What? Who is them?” Your gaze moved out to the bar, searching through the crowded room of patrons before you found him again. He sat with who you could only assume was his friend at a table facing you. You stared at him for a moment, before quickly averting your eyes and pretending to look around when he moved his attention from his friend to you.

Marie gasped knowingly, holding a hand to her mouth in mock surprise. “It is. Which one?”

Marie moved her head to better see them, trying to puzzle out which it could be before you softly grabbed her by the jaw and turned her to face you.

“Don’t make it obvious!” you whispered. You let go of her face. “Now, can I borrow a dress? Mine are all hanging out to dry.”

You rolled your eyes at your own laziness, wishing at that moment you had done your laundry at an earlier time.

Marie hummed in thought, wondering if she had any clean clothing as well. Her eyes lit up, and she looked at you as she began filling a tray with mugs of alcohol.

“Yes, I do. On my dresser is a new one I bought set out—it’s like a cream color?”

You softly sighed. “I don’t want to be the first one to wear your brand new dress.”

“Well lucky for you, I bought it as a gift for you anyway.” Marie smiled sweetly, lifting the tray before balancing it on one hand and patting your head with the other. “Now go change. You don’t want to smell like alcohol more than you already do.”

You rolled your eyes, fixing whatever she might have done to your hair as you turned and walked up the stairs leading to your family’s living area.

You had lived in this place all fifteen years you had lived and not a single thing had changed. The bar was still downstairs, the slightly singed floral wallpaper your grandmother had bought from a burned down church long ago was still peeling, and the same photos as always had hung up. It brought a sense of comfort knowing that it was unlikely anything would change, but at the same time you felt bored. You wanted some variety.

You opened the door to Marie’s room, easily one of the most organized in the house, and found the sage dress she had been talking about.

You quickly changed, discarding the faded brown dress you had been wearing before on the ground. You kept the white blouse on underneath, slipping the silky green dress over your body.

Marie had really bought this for you? It was so nice, made of quality material and by a good brand. You even tugged on a seam to test it, as most clothing nowadays was flimsy and came apart with the slightest movement, but it didn’t budge.

You smiled, moving the sleeves of your blouse down your shoulders before looking in the mirror Marie had in the corner of her room.

Your smile grew giddy at the sight of yourself, and for the first time you felt pretty. It was the first time you had seen yourself smile with teeth, and you gave yourself a happy twirl in the new dress.

You happily hummed before picking up your soiled dress and taking it back to your room, randomly tossing it somewhere before walking back downstairs.

You still held that giddy smile on your face, feeling like nothing could ruin your mood.

And then you saw Marie talking with the blond boy you had been staring at. You softly nodded to yourself after a moment, accepting the fact that whatever chance you thought you might have had with him was now spoiled.

Sometimes you wished Marie wasn’t as pretty as she was, wasn’t as kind and welcoming as she was, because then maybe you would actually have a chance.

Normally, seeing her talk to someone so obviously in love with her never bothered you, but for some reason seeing the hearts in this blond boy’s eyes (and his friend’s, though you weren’t paying attention to him) had that giddy expression on your face disappear.

You shook your head, continuing to fill mugs with beer and various alcohol and serving waiting patrons.

“Where are you taking me?” you heard someone ask.

“I’m about to change your life.” Marie.

You turned, three mugs filled to the brim in your hand when you nearly ran into him. You caught yourself before the drinks could spill, but you noticed that he held both hands on the cups, steadying them.

“Oh, thank you,” you said, smiling as he moved his hands. You watched as he unknowingly flexed them, making the blue veins more prominent and his fingers look long and elegant and—

Dear lord.

“My sister.” Marie came up beside you, setting the drinks in your hand on the table and linking her arm with yours.

He practically towered over you, shoulders broad with bulk under the clothing he wore. Your mind wandered and for a brief moment you imagined his skin to be tanned and smooth under his shirt before you caught yourself from drifting too far. He smiles, taking your hand and bowing to brush a soft kiss against your knuckles.

“Erwin Smith,” he said, meeting your eyes before standing straight again. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You softly hummed, dumbly nodding as the already steaming temperature in the room rose.

You stared into his eyes for a moment—his gorgeous blue eyes the color of the endless sky. A soft glint enters them as he tilts his head, waiting for your response.

“Yes. Yes!” you said, as if realizing something as you removed your hand from his and unlinked your arm from Marie’s. “Likewise. Apologies, I’m . . . distracted.”

You watch as Marie slyly moves away, winking at you before taking the three drinks she placed on the table and continuing her work.

You made a mental note to have a small talk with her later.

“May I ask your name?”

You hummed, returning your gaze to his before fully processing his question. “Oh! Yes, sorry I should have led with that. Y/n L/n.”

You offered a shy smile, noticing an emblem on his jacket—two swords crossed in an X. You thought about what it might be for a second, and bowed. “And thank you for your service. I didn’t realize you were part of the training corps.”

Erwin softly chuckles as you straighten yourself out. “No, it’s alright. You are actually the first one to offer respect like that, Y/n.”

He said your name as if he was trying out the way it felt, softly smiling from the way it rolled off his tongue.

“Oh, well, I mean anyone in the military worked hard to get there, so . . .” You trailed off, thinking of what to say. “I suppose I personally believe they deserve the extra rations they get, so long as they aren’t lazy, you know?”

Erwin quirked a brow, giving you a curious look as if asking you to elaborate.

“I mean- I-I didn’t mean you, per say, but—” Your brain scrambled for words to say, hoping you hadn’t somehow offended him. 

Erwin chuckles, cutting you off. “No, no, it’s alright. I know what you mean.”

You softly smile, and suddenly the room heated up just a little bit more. “So, can I offer you a drink? Whiskey, beer, ale, water . . .”

And oh, the charming smile he gives you—tilted more to one side than it is the other and showing off his perfect teeth. “Will you sit and share a glass of water with me if I say yes?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, slowly nodding before going off to pour two glasses of water. You turn around, finding that Erwin had found the most quiet corner of the bar to sit in. He was staring at you shamelessly, lips curving up when you made eye contact with him. It made butterflies fly around in your stomach, and you tried your best to bite back a smile as you made your way to him.

You placed the glasses down, sliding onto the bench beside him.

“So, Y/n.” His smile widens as he says your name again. Your lips try curving up again, but you try so hard to hide it so it doesn’t seem like you’re easy. “Tell me about yourself.”

You lean forward, resting your arms against the table and propping yourself on your hand. “Like what?”

“Your favorite color. Things you like doing. What you think about the guy you just met.” You chuckle, making a certain glint come into Erwin’s eyes. This close, you can see a ring of brown in his irises that surrounds his pupils.

“How’s your day?” you ask instead of answering any of his inquiries.

“Much better now that I’m talking to a pretty girl like you.” You bite your cheek and glance away as your heart skips a beat. “What about yours?”

“Well, I’m talking to this insanely attractive guy, so I’d say pretty good.” You turn your gaze back to him, smiling when he laughs.

“What branch are you planning to join?” you ask after a moment, trying to keep any sort of conversation going.

“The Survey Corps,” he replies. He nods his head to his dark-haired friend, who was talking with Marie. “Nile over there wants to join as well. We’re hoping we can change the program together and get one step closer to saving humanity.”

You hum. It’s silent for another moment before he talks again, and that sparks a conversation. You sit there for what seems like hours, exchanging flirty banter and soft smiles. You would have continued, had it not been for your mom getting onto you for not working.

Regretfully, you and Erwin stand. You stack the two empty glasses as Erwin glances outside.

“I have to go as well, actually,” he softly says. He looks back at you, following as you walk back to the bar and put the cups in the sink. “Can I come see you again?”

You lean forward against the counter, softly nodding. “Of course. Just don’t let my parents see that emblem.” You nod your head to the crossed swords embroidered on the left of his jacket. “They actually hate whatever government we have and the choices they make, including the military.”

Erwin nods, standing straight and tapping the tips of his fingers against the wooden counter. “Alright, I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

He watched as you leaned forward, falling into a bow and clasping your hands in front of your chest. “Thank you, again, for all your service.”

“If it takes risking my life for us to meet, it will have been worth it.” Erwin gave you a charming smile as he took your hand, softly kissing it again. Your lips curved up, love-struck as you watched him turn and walk back to his friend.

“So,” Marie dragged the word out, coming up behind you and draping her arm around your shoulders to lean against you.

You don’t answer, noting that Erwin pauses at the door and turns back to scan the bar. His eyes meet yours and he waves before closing the door behind him.

That small bit of eye contact leaves you breathless, and you can’t help but feel a bit childish at how easily smitten you were.

“Marie, that boy is mine,” you say, turning to her. The grin on your face is bright, lighting up the whole room and spreading from ear to ear. You don’t mean for your statement to mean anything malicious, only to tell Marie your intentions with a few words.

Marie gasped, jumping beside you in excitement. “Really? Oh, you must have really liked him.”

You nodded, and the two of you softly giggled and swooned for a few moments before your father got onto you for not working.

You had a smile on your face the rest of the night—a genuine smile that didn’t falter once.

—

Two days later Marie had discreetly given you a letter, an unusual thing, seeing as the only person that regularly received mail was your father.

Even more unusual than that, though, was the fancy wax seal and red rose tied to the envelope with twine.

When Marie had given it to you, she gave the slightest nod toward your room, and the two of you stepped inside.

She handed you the letter as she closed the door, leaving it open just a crack. You took the envelope with curiosity, untying the twine and holding the rose by its stem as you sat on your bed. You twirled it between your fingers, admiring it for a moment gently placing it beside you.

You glanced over the envelope for a hint of who it was from, finding no useful information except your name and address. You turned it over, running your index finger over the wax seal before carefully peeling it open.

You pulled the piece of paper inside out as Marie sat next to you, pressing her body into your side so she could read the letter over your shoulder.

Y/n,

I’m not sure how your family feels about you receiving letters, but I can only hope they won’t find out about this if they don’t like the idea of it. I didn’t put a return address on the envelope in the event your parents found this first, but here it is: ***** ******.

I sincerely hope you’re willing to exchange letters. I’d like to stay in touch with you even if I’m not at the bar with you. One of these days, though, I’m hoping to sweep you off your feet enough that you’ll agree to have me—and then I can be with you all you want.

I truly want to get to know you. You have stars in your eyes and I want to know what makes them so prominent. I want to know your passions and dreams. I want to have endless conversations with you and fantasize a future together where I am yours and you are mine.

I apologize if this is too soon to say anything like that, but I simply want to make my intentions with you clear. I hope we can see each other again soon. And if not, I hope you will at least send a letter back.

Yours truly,Erwin Smith

“Oh, Y/n,” Marie said, pulling away slightly and putting a hand to her heart. “That was the most beautiful letter I’ve ever read.”

You were smiling, so brightly it practically lit up the room as you turned the paper over, starting to reread it.

“Do you think he means it?” you ask, slightly in disbelief that Erwin was choosing you. Being as handsome and charming as he was, surely he was able to pull any girl he wanted.

“How could he not? He seems so infatuated with you.” Marie’s eyes glanced over the letter again. “Just be careful, he seems like the kind of guy willing to sacrifice everything to get what he wants.”

You nod. “I know. But I don’t think—”

“I’m only telling you, Y/n. I just don’t want you to get hurt, so be cautious.” Marie rests her head on your shoulder as she reads over the first couple sentences of the letter again, hand softly grazing your shoulder.

“I will be. You know how I am, Marie.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Marie lifts her head, grabbing the rose and holding it in front of you. “You’re not one to fall so easily. Or so you claim, at least, but with the way you’re swooning over Erwin right now says something different.”

She laughs as you playfully hit her shoulder, halfheartedly pushing you away to avoid any further hits.

“I’m joking! But I do want you to be careful. I don’t think you’ve ever been so . . . emotional over someone.”

You hummed, turning the thought over in your mind and wondering if this whole thing really was ridiculous. You always knew love at first sight could only end badly, but if that’s the case then why did you feel so light? So dizzying and happy and sunny . . .

Surely it couldn’t be all that bad, right?

“It’s alright, though,” Marie started, making you turn your gaze toward her, “because now we know he thinks the stars are in your eyes. And judging by his words he most definitely wants to-”

“Marie!”

You go to playfully hit her shoulder again, cutting off whatever suggestive thing she might have said, but she had already stood up and stepped away by the time you turned.

You chased her around your room, your dresses ruffling as laughter filled the air.

“Girls!” You had both collapsed on your bed, the letter hidden beneath it, when your mother opened the door and stood in the doorway. “Bar opens in five. Get ready.”

You nodded as Marie said, “Yes, ma’am.” When your mother left the two of you shared a glance, bursting into laughter before standing and making yourselves presentable.

You didn’t see Erwin that night, making you wonder if he truly wanted to sweep you off your feet and take you to a world you’ve never known before.

—

One week after that you and Erwin began exchanging letters as quickly as the postal service would allow. He came to the bar as often as he could to see you, but when he couldn’t he would send a beautifully written letter, promising paradise and a better life.

You swooned every time, rereading until you could recite every single word from memory. Erwin might as well have been building palaces and cathedrals with the way he wrote to you, so obviously enamored with everything about you.

Your mother and father, of course, would never approve. They didn’t want their daughters marrying a militiaman. And since Marie had been rather adamant and obvious about her interest in Nile, whatever slim chance you might have had with Erwin was gone.

But that didn’t stop the two of you from sneaking around whenever you could. Every chance Erwin got, he would come find you, whisking you away to a late night picnic in an overgrown garden or to stargaze just beyond the border of your town.

No matter how many times you went on the exact same date, too scared to do anything else in the daylight, you always treasured it.

“Y/n?”

You hummed in response, turning your head to face him. It was one of the nights you went stargazing, laying together in the soft meadow grass as you talked.

“I have to tell you something.”

You smiled, turning on your side and laying your head on your arm. “Okay, what is it?”

“I am in love with you.” Erwin softly grabbed your hand as your eyes widened in shock. He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing soft kisses to your fingertips. “So inexplicably in love with you that you are all I think about day and night. You have me smitten, Y/n, so much so that I’m willing to do anything to make you mine.”

He pressed your palm to his lips, closing his eyes as he left a lingering kiss.

“I don’t have much, if anything at all. I’m living on government funds and the only dollop of fame I’ll ever have is when I die, but I’m hoping that if you feel the same way those things won’t deter you.”

The both of you sit up, Erwin coming closer so he can softly cup your jaw. Your noses brush against each other, breaths mingling together from the closeness.

“I love you, Y/n.”

He presses his lips to yours, so lightly and brief you aren’t even sure if it counts as a kiss. He pulls away quickly, staring into your eyes for a moment before kissing you again—firmer and more self-assured this time.

You can tell it’s his first kiss because he doesn’t know how to do it, but you don’t put that against him because you don’t know how to kiss someone either. It wasn’t at all like the novels you sometimes read, the ones where first kisses were magical and perfect and almost always led to something more.

No, this kiss was not magical, or perfect, or even half decent. It was messy, full of awkward breaths and obvious inexperience. But this was your moment, and you wouldn’t dare change a single thing about it.

When you pull away you tell him that night that you love him, but you remind him again of your family’s distaste for military men. That gave him pause, but after a few moments he smiled.

“I’ll just tell them I’m a mercenary.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, laughing. “A mercenary? How is that any better than a soldier? They’ll think you’re only using me for money.”

Erwin hums, softly tracing the line of your jaw and gazing into your eyes. “It’s not, but I’ll figure it out.”

You softly smile, leaning forward slightly. “We will figure it out.”

Erwin nods. “We will. And one day, we will have everything you could possibly wish for. I promise.”

He presses his lips against yours again, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so happy or complete.

—

Work has always been so tiring—especially on nights like this when it was someone’s birthday and everyone flocked to the bar. You weren’t even entirely sure whose birthday it was, but they must have been popular for the bar to be this full.

You tirelessly went from table to table, refilling drinks and serving platters of whatever spare food you could scrape up. Glasses were shattered and you charged more to tabs in hopes of buying new ones. The amount of drunk older men that had suggestively grabbed your waist to slip behind you was worse tonight than it was most, and you had to remind them that you were fifteen more than you wanted.

You were exhausted. It was almost midnight on a Tuesday and there were still more patrons than you could keep track of. You kept messing up orders, and any other day you would have beaten yourself up about it, but you made an exception for yourself.

A hand ghosts across your arm, and you nearly jump and smack whoever had touched you before realizing it was Marie. She gives an innocent smile, holding her hands out to take the tray you hold in your hands.

“I got that,” she says. Instead of waiting for you to hand the tray over, she grabs it herself and nudges you with her shoulder. “Now go. Your lover is somewhere over there.”

She nods her head to the right and you turn, noticing that Erwin was sitting at a table with Nile and another girl. Nile and Erwin weren’t dressed in training attire, trying to blend in more. When Erwin glanced up and noticed you he smiled, standing up and meeting you halfway to the table.

He takes your hand, lifting it to his lips to leave a kiss on your knuckles. “Good evening, my love.”

You smile, readjusting your hands so your fingers are intertwined. “Morning, technically,” you say.

“Barely.” He softly laughs, leaning down to chastely kiss your lips. “It doesn’t matter. It’s still good because I get to see you.”

You smile, looking around to make sure no one is watching after he kisses you a second time. “Have you been waiting this entire time for me?”

Erwin shrugs, leading you back to the table Nile and the other girl sat at. “We only came about an hour ago. I didn’t want to bother you while you were working.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were here, but if I did I would have slipped away.”

Erwin shakes his head. “It’s alright. Besides, you’re very cute when you’re working.”

Your eyes widen, the room suddenly hot. He chuckles at your flustered expression, allowing you to slide onto the bench before him.

You end up across the girl. Her hair is dark and pulled back into a tight ponytail, and she wore a faded brown blouse and slacks. She wasn’t looking your way when you sat down, looking down at whatever she was writing, but then Erwin said her name and she glanced up, first at them then you. She smiled, straightening herself and adjusting the way she sat.

“Hi! Are you Y/n or Marie?” She seemed excitable, putting down her pencil and crossing her arms in front of her.

“Y/n. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You held out your hand for her to shake.

“Anastasia Brownfield.” She took hold of your hand, her fingers rough and calloused against your own. She gave a firm shake before withdrawing. “I’m part of the training corps with Erwin and Nile.”

So that’s how she knew them. You should have been jealous—you probably would have been if Erwin wasn’t looking at you the entire time Anastasia spoke. But the way she carried herself struck you as odd. She leaned against the table in a way that suggested her legs weren’t pressed together or crossed, and when a pretty girl passed by her gaze followed her and a small smile came to her face.

“She’s pretty,” she quietly mumbled, lifting her glass to her lips before looking back at you.

Anastasia continued the conversation like the two of you were old friends catching up. She was animated, moving her hands along to match with nearly everything she said, and got distracted easily. She could have been in the middle of telling a story before something she said reminded her of something else, the original tale forgotten about.

As she continued talking Erwin and Nile would cut in occasionally, and it felt like the four of you had known each other forever with the way you casually laughed and joked around.

Eventually, the bar started emptying out. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but you figured it would be smart for the three of them to leave before your parents found you slacking off.

Before he left, Erwin wrapped a hand around your waist and pulled you flush against him. He left a lingering kiss against your temple, quietly whispering, “I’ll see you later.”

He kissed your temple again before pulling away, winking as he followed Nile and Anastasia out. It left butterflies flapping in your stomach, their wings flapping and making you feel all giddy inside.

When you finally gather yourself you continue what you had originally been doing, refilling glasses and washing empty ones.

Over and over again you did that. And you would continue to do that over and over again until the day came where you would be with Erwin, and maybe you would be washing the dishes together in your own house.

—

When Erwin told you that he would see you later, you did not expect to find him throwing small pebbles from the streets at your window to get your attention two hours later.

You had been blowing out the candles lighting your room when you heard the first plink! You paused, looking around before shrugging it off and continuing getting ready for bed.

Plink!

You looked around again, glancing out your window and waiting for the sound again.

Plink!

Your brows furrowed in confusion. You took a match from its box, striking it to relight a candle and cautiously walking toward the window.

You look out, unable to see anything through the reflection of the light. You rest the candle on the windowsill, unlatching the lock and opening the window to look around.

You see him standing across the street. It’s too dark to see his expression, but you imagine he’s smiling.

Erwin crosses the street, face being lit by whatever dim light was still on in the spot below yours.

“What are you doing?” you ask quietly, a chuckle in your voice. “Erwin, do you know how late it is?”

“I said I would see you later.”

You can hear the smile in his voice, and your lips curve up. “I wasn’t expecting you to throw rocks at my window. What if it wasn’t the right one?”

“I would have ran if someone caught me.” You softly chuckle, leaning against the windowsill. “Sprinted away and returned tomorrow.”

“Erwin, do you know what this could do?”

“Nile and Anastasia have me covered. And even if I get caught, I don’t mind being punished by the higher ups. As long as I get to be with you, my love.”

That made you smile, because you knew how important it was to him that he get perfect scores on nearly everything, including his discipline record. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Well the chances of getting caught are increasingly higher if I stay out here.”

You can barely see a mischievous smile on his face. You playfully roll your eyes, pulling away from the window. “Give me a moment. Wait at the door.”

You don’t see his reaction because you close the window, latching it closed before grabbing a robe from your desk chair. You shrug it on, tying the belt around your waist as you walk across your room to the door. You slowly open it, looking out to make sure no one was awake before quietly stepping into the hallway.

You walked cautiously, testing the floor to make sure it didn’t creak before continue with every step. You made sure to skip the third stair from the top of the staircase, because that step always created a deafeningly loud screech and alerted everyone that someone was leaving or entering the living room.

You finally allow yourself to breaths when you step off the final stair. No one will be able to hear you, so you’re less paranoid and take less careful steps.

You place the candle on the table closest to the door, looking back to make sure no one was awake and following you before beginning to unlock the door and opening it, slowly to make sure its hinges don’t squeak.

You watch Erwin push himself away from the wall, standing straight to face you. The both of you exchange a smile, and you open the door wider so he can step inside the bar.

You close the door and turn back to him, watching in awe for a moment as he looks around at the silence of the bar.

You step toward him, softly brushing your hands together to get his attention. He looks down, smiling.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi yourself.” You’re not sure what it is, but something about the dreamlike candlelight makes you lean forward to kiss him, standing on tiptoes to reach his lips. You leave a chaste peck on his lips, pulling away with a small smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me you meant tonight?” you ask, taking his hand and leading him to the stairs. “I would have prepared better.”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

You smile, motioning for him to pause just before the door leading upstairs. You opened it, looking around to make sure everyone was still in their rooms before beckoning Erwin in. You held a finger to your mouth as the two of you tiptoed to your room.

You quietly close the door behind you, listening for a moment before you turn toward Erwin and take a couple steps toward him.

“So,” you drag the word out, folding your hands behind your back as you step closer to him. “Is there a reason you came by so late?”

You softly laugh, looking up at him and his blue eyes and his sharp cheekbones.

“I just wanted to spend time with you, my love.” Erwin smiles, making butterflies fly around in your stomach. You try to hide your gleeful smile, but end up failing.

“That’s what our dates are for.”

“No, I mean, just us. Away from watching eyes. Just me and you, Y/n. I don’t want to have to worry about sneaking around on the streets tonight.”

You softly hum, hands gently entwining with his as you gaze into his eyes, so bright and clear like a cloudless sky.

“That sounds nice.”

Erwin’s lips slightly curve up, one hand entwined with yours as the other slowly grazes along your arm and shoulder. His fingertips softly caress your jawline, slightly tilting your head up.

“I got you something.”

Your eyes slightly widen in surprise, more focused on the touch of his hands than his words. “Really?”

He nods, removing his hand from your face and reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a small, black box, slipping it into your hands.

“It’s not much, but I thought you’d like it.”

You tear your eyes away from his, glancing down at the small box in your hands. It’s made of wood, sanded to perfection and smooth beneath your fingers.

“What is it?” you softly ask, looking up at him as you open the box. He doesn’t respond, only smiling as you return your gaze to the opened box and let out a soft gasp. “Erwin? Is this . . .”

You trail off, looking up at him again and watching as he slowly bows down on one knee in front of you.

“It is. Y/n, you truly are the love of my life. You make me want to do anything I can to make you happy and satisfied. I want us to build a future we can love together, but I can only hope you share these dreams with me. So, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you breathed. You nodded, hiding your giddy smile behind your hand as Erwin stood back up. He gently took the box out of your hand, slipping the ring inside onto your finger before tucking the box back into his pocket.

It was a simple band made from iron, the unrefined surface polished and cleaned. It was a cheap ring, something anyone could buy with spare pocket change if they so wanted, but it was yours. Erwin had picked it out just for you, and while it wasn’t anything special, you wouldn’t change a single thing about it.

You look back up at his eyes, wrapping your arms around him. “Thank you, my love. It’s beautiful, and I can’t wait to be married to you.”

He smiles, sliding his hands under your robe and around your waist to pull you closer. “I’ll get you a better ring when I have the money. A proper engagement ring like you deserve.”

You hum, foreheads pressing against each other and noses brushing together. “You don’t have to. What you’ve given me is already more than I want.”

His lips barely grazed yours, almost as if he was asking permission to kiss you. “I want to give you everything. Everything you’ve ever wanted will be yours, darling. I promise you that.”

“What about a kiss?” You pull away slightly to look up at him through your lashes, blinking innocently. “Please?”

Erwin lets out a breathy chuckle, pulling you back against him. “How could I say no?”

His lips press against yours, more practiced than the first time but still unsure. You hum into the kiss, gliding the tips of your fingers over the back of his neck until you can thread them through his hair.

He pulls you as close as he possibly can, your bodies flush against each other as you share the passionate kiss. He unties the belt around your waist, sliding the robe off your shoulders slow enough that you can protest whenever you want.

You don’t. You let the robe fall on the ground, hands sliding down his chest.

You softly gasp as his hands move down, ghosting over the curve of your hips before he tentatively lifts you up.

The kiss breaks, and you look at him curiously as he steps closer to your bed.

“Erwin?” you quietly ask as he places you down on the edge of the bed.

“We won’t do anything unless you want to,” he whispers. He leans forward, touching his forehead to yours. “I just want to be with you.”

You softly nod, wrapping your arms around him as you kiss again. You gently lay on your back, breathing heavily as Erwin crawls on top of you.

He kisses you again, once very quickly on the lips before he begins trailing kisses down your jaw. “Do you want to?”

“We have to be quiet,” you say, letting out a soft breath.

“That’s not what I asked. I asked if you wanted to do this.”

You pause for a moment, hesitating before you nod.

“Are you sure?”

You nod again, more sure of yourself before you rethink and shake your head. “Not yet.”

Erwin smiles against your neck, leaving one last lingering kiss before he pulls away. “Okay.” He lays down beside you, eyes following the outline of your silhouette as he pushes a strand of hair away from your face.

Your face paints itself into a smile, and you turn on your side so you can face him better. You take hold of his hand, gently rubbing circles across his knuckles with your thumb.

Erwin lifts your hand to his lips, kissing your fingers. “I love you.”

You softly hum, scooting closer to him and wrapping your arm around him. “I love you, too.”

He lets go of your hand, wrapping both arms around your figure and pulling you closer to him.

“I have to leave soon,” he says, which is the most tragic part about this entire thing. The time you spend together is fleeting, and you feel as if the two of you spend more time watching the clock than enjoying each other.

“I know,” you say quietly, trailing off slightly. “I don't want you to.”

Erwin nods, planting a kiss to the top of your head. “I know you don’t, but I have to, my darling. I swear that one day you’ll have me all to yourself.”

You softly sigh, closing your eyes. “When will that be?”

“Now that you’re my fiancée, hopefully soon.” Erwin takes a deep breath, relishing in the smell of your hair. “Your parents would never approve of this. I’d like to win their favor first.”

“I wish they didn’t hate the military so much. Then we could be more public about this.”

“One day soon, Y/n. If there is one promise I swear to fulfill, it is that.” Erwin presses his lips against the top of your head again, holding them there.

“Stay,” you whisper. “Please. Just for a bit longer.”

He hums into your hair. “A couple more minutes.”

You nod, hugging him tighter and pulling him closer.

The two of you chastely lay together in silence, the soft sound of Erwin’s heartbeat being the only thing you hear. He plays with the ends of your hair, face pressed into your locks as you begin subconsciously counting how many times his heart beats until you forget what number you were on and have to restart.

Erwin doesn’t leave while you’re awake. He stays beside you, holding you against his body and basking in your presence the same way you bask in his.

You fall asleep in his arms, unsure of how long he was with you or if he even stayed.

—

You awoke the next morning to the sound of your door slamming shut.

You immediately sat up, looking around for a moment while you gathered yourself and fully woke up. Erwin was gone, your bedsheets were rumpled and your breath was stale. You yawned, and almost laid back down before you heard glass shatter.

“Get out of my house, you goddamn military mutt!”

Fuck.

You jumped out of bed, legs getting caught in the blankets, and stumbled across the room. You untangled your legs as you moved, reaching to open your bedroom door.

“Dad? What-”

“You want to tell me why he was in your room this morning?”

You paused, frozen in the doorway to your bedroom as you processed his words. Your eyes darted around the living room, finding Erwin standing against the wall. His hair was a mess, blond strands falling onto his forehead.

Your eyes widen, and you immediately try to calm whatever anger your father was feeling. “Dad, it’s not what you-”

“Bullshit!” You flinched back, the resounding sound of your father’s voice bouncing off the walls. “He was in your room this morning so obviously you’re sneaking around like a whore!”

“I-I’m not! We didn’t even do anything. Please, I-”

He slapped you then, a loud, striking sound that seemed to echo in the room.

Time seemed to freeze with you. You heard ringing, turning your head to face your father. Except when you turned back, your mother held a firm grip on his arm and pushed him away from you. She said something you didn’t hear, the words muffled and muddled together, before she turned to Erwin.

“Out,” she said, pointing to the door. Erwin moved without a word or complaint, glancing back at you once before he closed the door to the bar behind him.

Your mother took a deep breath, sniffing. She blew out an exasperated breath and turned toward you.

She looks just like Marie. The same brown hair and eyes and faint splay of freckles across her cheeks. You could see the dark circles under her eyes, even in the dim light of the early morning.

She stared at you in silence, arms crossed and eyes pensive. She looked at the ground after a moment, softly shaking her head.

When she looked back up at you her warm eyes were colder than ice.

“How could you?” Her voice was unwavering and assertive, making you feel small and unimportant. You would have crawled back to your room if she wasn’t staring you down. You hear your father breath out and notice him stepping into another room to collect himself.

Your mother sighed again, walking to the couch and sitting on the edge. She ran both hands through her hair and leaned back. “You let him into your room. You let that government pawn into your room to do God knows what to you.”

“That’s not-”

“Your father and I raised you better. We have been lenient in letting you and Marie hang around them, but now you go and spread your legs for someone that’ll tire of you as soon as he gets promoted.”

“Mom, no, we didn’t-”

“He doesn’t love you-”

“He does!” You’re surprised at yourself for a moment, standing in stunned silence for only a second before continuing. “He loves me, Mom. And I love him. And-And we’re going to get married.”

She stared at you, not allowing any hint of what she was thinking or feeling to show on her face. She eventually closes her eyes and breathes out through her nose, rubbing her forehead. “You’ve hardly known him a month-”

“You and dad got married after one week of knowing each other.”

“It was different then, Y/n,” she snaps, harshly glaring at you. “Everything was different when your father and I got married.”

“You only got married because you were gonna have Marie,” you mutter. You had meant for it to be a thought, even a whisper quiet enough you could barely hear it. But it slipped out louder than you intended, making your mother snap her mouth shut. You’re left staring at each other, almost to see who backs down first.

“Mom, please just give him a chance. I promise he’s not what you think,” you say.

“We gave him a chance and look what happened!” Your mother threw her arm out, motioning to your room and the general situation. “He’s a teenage boy, Y/n. He’s too young to know what he wants to commit to. You know better than to give yourself to the first boy that gives you attention-”

“It’s not just attention! I’m not mistaking attention for love. He wants me and he wants me to be happy and he wants to build a life together.”

Your father comes back out then. He takes slow steps to the couch, sitting down with your mother.

It’s completely silent as he does. You find yourself wondering where Marie is while your parents wordlessly communicate. You stare at a spot on the wall opposite from you until your dad sighs, and you turn your gaze to him.

“Y/n, we just want what’s best for you. We were young once, too and we regret some of the choices we made.” He clasps his hands together, leaning forward against his knees. “We don’t want you making a life changing mistake like this. You’ll find someone better suited to be a husband in the future. A military man can’t give you what you want.”

“I don’t want another man. I want Erwin. He’s everything I want, dad.”

Your father sighs, running a hand through his graying hair. It’s obvious he’s conflicted. He wants you to do whatever makes you happy, but he knows big decisions like this have consequences.

“You don’t have to give us your blessing,” you softly say. “We can get married on our own and get out of your hair. You won’t have to see us again.”

“Y/n, we never said we wanted you to leave. We just want you to think this through.”

You’re silent, feeling like a scolded child because you have thought it through. This is what you want to be happy.

You wait until your parents tell you to go before walking to your room. You close the door behind you, sliding down against it until you sit on the floor with your legs pulled against your chest.

You stare off into space, your mind noisy with all the thoughts running through it. You aren’t even sure what half of them are, but you’re positive of one thing.

You want to marry Erwin Smith, and you will do whatever you can to make that dream your reality.

—

Over the course of the next month, you work tirelessly; doing anything for tips and helping out wherever you go to the market during the day for extra cash.

Both Erwin and Nile had been banned from the bar. At first you didn’t take it seriously, but any thoughts you had of sneaking either of them in were quickly dismissed when your father shot at them with his musket, just barely missing their heads.

You’re not sure if it was just a scare tactic your father had used to force you to think over your decision. But needless to say, you had learned a more discreet way to communicate so you didn’t get caught. You found out that Anastasia came through quite often to visit her family. Neither of your parents knew she was in the military, so she was the messenger between you and Erwin. 

The two of you would meet in the market as often as you could. She would give you the letters he had written and she would deliver yours to him. It wasn’t the best method, but it was the best you could do.

You hid every single letter you received, storing them in an old tin box that used to house cookies. The box was hidden under your bed, concealed by your blanket the majority of the time. Any time you felt lonely you would bring it out, looking through each letter and being reminded of what you’re working towards.

You hadn’t told Erwin about the choice you made, because if you did he would tell you he wasn’t worth it and convince you to stay with your family. And it would have worked because God he could convince you of just about anything.

You had begun devising a plan. Since Erwin had chosen to join the Scout regiment while the two of you were apart, the letters became less frequent and more like an unexpected gift each time you received one. You had started planning what days he would have off, which days he would be able to travel to you and sweep you off your feet.

You decided November fourth, because that was the start of a mandatory military break given due to Erwin’s commander sustaining a severe injury outside the walls. 

Over the course of the next two months you save money, picking up whatever odd jobs you could and selling what you wouldn’t need in the near future. You stored your savings in a can that used to be filled with rationed corn, hiding it in plain sight.

Early on November third, you packed a bag and spent most the day writing letters to your parents and Marie. You asked in the letter if Marie would be your maid of honor if she could find time off, and hid everything behind your open bedroom door during the day.

The work day dragged on, and you found yourself asking for the time every couple seconds to see if it had moved any faster. The minutes seemed like hours, and you swear the hours took longer to pass. Every time you looked out the window the sun still shone bright, as if it was mocking you from the sky.

Even when the moon came out you still had to wait. 

You might as well have waited a lifetime, because as soon as the bar closed you feigned exhaustion and retreated to your room to make sure you had everything ready to leave. You reread the letters before sealing them in their envelopes and waited even longer.

It was nearly dawn when the house finally quieted down and you could sneak out. You were honestly exhausted, and could barely keep your eyes open, but now was your only chance. If you didn’t leave now, you wouldn’t be able to when everyone wakes up.

You tiptoed out of your room, leaving the first letter to your parents on the kitchen counter. Then you moved to Marie’s room, where you heard quiet whispering from inside.

You paused to listen for a moment, hearing the cadence of Nile's voice but not recognizing anything they said.

You slid the letter to Marie under her door before rushing out of the house and bar forever.

You didn’t look back. Not once did you even think about it.

You found yourself waiting in the market, placing your suitcase down and patiently sitting on it as you waited.

The sun had risen and four merchants had opened up shop by the time you saw Erwin, handsome as ever and looking around eagerly, hopefully searching for you. Someone followed him, and you recognized her dark hair.

Anastasia looked around as well, smiling and pointing to you when she spotted you. She said something to Erwin, making him turn his head in the direction she’d pointed in.

You stood, running up to Erwin when a look of recognition crossed his face. He moved faster, scooping you up and spinning you around when you got close enough.

You were elated, heart beating quickly from being held so close. You could feel his warmth despite the layers of clothing he wore. You squeezed him tighter, taking in his smell, his presence, his arms around you, his body.

“You bulked up a bit,” you said, face pressed against his shoulder.

“Survey Corps,” he simply said. He pressed his lips against the side of your head. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“I love it. I love you.”

You felt him smile against your hair, and it was just another moment where it was just the two of you in the universe before you heard someone clear their throat.

“People are watching, guys,” Anastasia said. “Wasn’t the whole point of this for people not to know?”

Erwin carefully placed you back on the ground, hand on your waist to keep you close. “Yeah, you’re right.” He let out a heavy breath, looking down at you. “Your parents are really okay with this?”

You nodded. “They gave us their blessing.” And you felt so bad for lying. But this is what you wanted. You wanted Erwin and nothing else.

Erwin nods again, clearly slightly nervous about the whole situation. “Anastasia, you said you knew somewhere we could stay for a bit?”

Anastasia gave a thumbs up, and it was then that you noticed she carried your suitcase in one hand. “Yup. My uncle’s house is only a couple blocks down from here. He has a spare room the two of you can stay in until you leave.”

“And he can officiate marriages, right?” you asked, holding your hand out in an offer to take back your bag.

Anastasia nodded as she handed your suitcase to you. “Yes. It’s a cheap piece of paper, but yes, he can legalize marriages.”

She had told you all about that. She’d mentioned that her uncle wanted to discreetly marry same sex couples without judgment, so he bought an officiant license to do just that. She had said it multiple times, actually. Sometimes twice every time you asked, but you just had to make sure one more time.

“Alright, lovebirds, let’s go.” Anastasia nodded to the right, readjusting the hat on her head before she began walking.

You and Erwin followed behind her, silently talking amongst yourselves.

At least, you would have been doing that. But something in the air had changed around you and you didn’t talk. There was a kind of weight, seemingly holding you back from speaking a word to each other as you followed Anastasia.

The house she led you to was cramped. It was a small living space made for two people at most, not the five that would be staying.

Anastasia walked up a flight of stairs, telling you and Erwin to stay downstairs until she comes back. You notice for the first time as she motions to chairs that she’s missing both her left ring and pinky fingers.

She walks up the stairs, leaving you and Erwin awkwardly standing there.

You turned to Erwin when his knuckles brushed against yours and he linked your pinkies. He wordlessly led you to one of the couches, sitting down with you. You smiled at him, the two of you doing nothing but stare at each other for a moment.

“Hi,” he said. He smiled, big and wide and showing off his perfect teeth.

“Hi yourself.” You felt butterflies staring at him again, especially being this close. It was the closest you had dared be in broad daylight, and something about not having to hide from the light made your stomach flip.

“How’s it been with your parents?”

“Good,” you said. “The bar’s doing good.”

You didn't elaborate, leaving the two of you in a moment of silence.

“How is it with the Scouts? Are you enjoying it?”

Erwin nodded, leaning back against the couch, crossing his legs at the ankles and resting his arm against the back behind you. “Yeah, it’s fine. Nile and I were supposed to join together, but he, uh,” Erwin paused, thinking about his next words. “He ended up joining the Military Police.”

“Why?” You turned slightly, moving to see him better.

You saw him bite the inside of his cheek in thought. He clicked his tongue. “Marie. He . . . He wants to protect her.”

You hum, slowly nodding. “So he wants to go to the innermost wall where it’s safest.”

“Yeah.” Erwin blew out a breath, moving his hand to softly grab yours. “But it’s going well. Anastasia and I were assigned to the same captain, so we’ll be working together more.”

“Have you gone out yet?”

He shakes his head. “Not far. We went out once and attracted Titans so we had to turn back. We lost a couple people.”

It’s silent for a moment. Erwin runs his thumb across your hand, turning the cheap iron ring around your finger.

“I’m glad you made it back.”

He hums, and the silence returns. It borders the line of being uncomfortable and acceptable, and you can’t quite tell which it’ll fall into.

It seems like an eternity until you hear voices. Anastasia and a man that must have been her uncle come bounding down the stairs.

“Okay, guys. This is my Uncle Henry. He’s the one officiating your marriage.” Anastasia motions to the man beside her, and he smiles and bows his head.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you two. I assume you’re wanting to spend some time alone beforehand, correct?” He pauses for a moment, waiting for one of you to nod before continuing. “Well, we have your room ready. It’s pretty cramped, but hopefully you don’t mind.”

Henry smiles, and you graciously thank him before he leads you to said room. He was right—it’s very cramped. There’s hardly room to walk around the bed, but you and Erwin manage.

Henry leaves you to your own devices, closing the door behind him.

Something about not having to sneak Erwin into the room made it feel different. It wasn’t stolen kisses and whispered words anymore—this time people knew he was with you. Alone. Unaccompanied and unsupervised.

You didn’t know what to do with yourself.

You both awkwardly stood in the doorway after Henry left. You held your suitcase close to your body, arms glued to your sides in an attempt to make yourself as small as possible as you took in the room.

The bed is pressed against the wall, a window with streaming rays sitting to its left. The walls are cream, evidence of a child drawing on the wall beneath the window.

Your fingers lightly tapped against the handle of your bag. You looked down, glancing at Erwin through your peripheral.

The silence was unbearable, so thick you could cut it with a knife, but you didn’t know what to say.

You lifted your head and watched as Erwin strolled further into the room, placing his suitcase down on the side of the bed closest to the window. He takes off his coat, undoing the cufflinks holding the fabric around his wrists together.

“At least we’re finally alone together. Now we can be as loud as we’d like.” Erwin smirks as your eyes widen and he pushes his sleeves up his forearms. He stepped back in front of you, brushing your hands together so he could take your suitcase.

“Let me take that,” he whispers. When you let go of your luggage’s weight, he leans forward, softly pressing his lips to yours.

“I missed you,” you say against his lips.

Erwin hums, breaking the kiss for just a moment to put your bag on the ground before he kisses you again. He lifts you up as you wrap your arms around him. You softly gasp, holding onto him tighter.

“Is this okay?” he mumbles as he walks over to the bed. He gently sits you down, kneeling and pressing his forehead against yours. “Please tell me if you want this.”

You think for a second, thinking back to weeks ago when he initially asked you that and you said no. You don’t feel the same as you did then. You don’t feel as if you were just supposed to say yes out of obligation. Now you want to say yes.

You nod.

“Are you sure?” Erwin’s breath is heavy, his lips ghosting over your own.

“I’m sure.”

His eyes scan your expression for a moment. When he sees that you are beyond a doubt positive of your decision, he kisses you again.

You hum and softly thread your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp as he pulls away and begins trailing kisses along your jaw.

“You’re beautiful.” He left a lingering kiss beneath your ear as his hands slowly traveled along your body, his fingers tracing your waist.

You smile, eyes closed as Erwin slowly undoes the laces of your corset. You don’t stop him, and when he asks if what he’s doing is okay you nod and politely urge him to continue.

The laces are halfway undone when you hear a faint knock on the door. The two of you freeze, waiting a moment before you hear the knocking again.

“Y/n? I know you’re in there.” Anastasia.

“What is it?” you ask. Erwin lets out a heavy breath, pressing his forehead against your shoulder.

“We said we’d go out and get stuff, remember? Like flowers or something, I dunno.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, turning your head to face the ceiling because yes, you had agreed to do that. But that was before you were held in Erwin’s arms again.

“Is it possible to move it to later?”

“Not really. There’s like, a thing. And another thing. And one more thing that’s kind of important.”

You sighed at Anastasia’s vagueness. Now you were aware that she had brewed up some sort of scheme, and you weren’t entirely sure how comfortable you were with it.

“Listen if you don’t respond I’m coming in,” Anastasia says after it had been quiet too long. You heard the doorknob turn.

“No!” both you and Erwin call out. He had lifted his head from your shoulder and turned to look at the door.

“Knew it. You two were getting down and dirty in there. And before you’re even married. The scandal.” You heard Anastasia quietly snicker as Erwin sighed, leaning against his arm and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“She’ll be out in a minute,” Erwin says. He uses a commanding tone that makes you feel hot. The hand he holds on your thigh scorches your skin through the fabric of your skirt, and when he starts drawing small circles with his thumb you almost melt.

“Okay . . .” Anastasia draws out the word. “I’ll be waiting in the lobby.”

You hear her footsteps retreat, and when you’re sure she’s completely gone you groan and fall back onto the bed.

“I’m sorry,” you say, running your hands over your face. “I completely forgot about that.”

Erwin chuckles, the bed quietly creaking as he stands up. He gently grabs your hands, pulling you so you stand in front of him. He moves your hair out of your face, saying, “It’s alright, darling. We can always do it later.”

He laughs when your eyes widen in shock. He kisses your forehead before he pulls away, letting go of you.

“I’ll see you later.” He smiles, watching as your hands redo the laces on your corset.

“I love you,” you say. You reach the door, placing your hand on the doorknob and turning back to him.

He had seated himself back on the bed, leaning back with his legs crossed. smiled when you said those words, tilting his head up.

“I love you, too.”

You close the door behind you, going back downstairs to join Anastasia on whatever little adventure she had planned.

As it turns out, that adventure was simply finding pretty flowers, Marie and Nile. All three things were in the central market, and all together. Marie and Nile had been looking at a flower booth, picking out hydrangeas and roses.

Marie had smiled when she saw you. She embraced you in a tight hug, saying something about how proud she was that you had started paving your own path.

She looped her arm around yours and did not let go. It wasn’t long until the four of you returned to Henry’s house. Flowers were put into vases and placed around the living room, and soon enough you were shoved into another room to get ready. 

—

You slowly blew a breath from your lips, eyes flitting around the room without giving a single object more than a fleeting glance. Your fingers tapped against the stem of the already wilting flowers in your hands, and you had started clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“Will you calm down? You’re giving me anxiety,” Marie said, softly laughing at the sidelong glance you gave her. “I’m kidding. But seriously, why are you so nervous? It’s not like Erwin suddenly ran away, he’s right out the door and down the stairs if you would just open the goddamn door-”

“I’m not opening the door,” you say. You take another deep breath, straightening your back and rolling your shoulders. “What if he sees me and decides he doesn’t want to be married? Mom and Dad would never take me back into the family, what would I do if that happens-”

Marie put her hands on your shoulders, softly shaking you. “Y/n. Erwin stayed after almost being shot at when Mom and Dad kicked him out. And when that happened, your hair was half-done and you were wearing a robe and he still blew you a kiss. I sincerely doubt he’s going to leave, especially with you wearing that and looking as pretty as you do.”

She fixes the sleeves of your cream dress—the same one you wore the night you and Erwin met.

“What if he has second thoughts?”

Marie blew a breath through her nose, holding you by the arms again. She stared at you, her brown eyes a passage into her soul and deepest thoughts.

“I promise you he won’t. Nile and Anastasia both say he doesn’t shut up about you when they hang out. They’re tired of hearing it.” Marie laughs, looping her arm through yours. “Nothing will go wrong. I promise. And if it does, I will take Dad’s musket and shoot Erwin myself.”

Her threat makes you snort, and you bring a hand up to cover your mouth as you laugh. Marie smiles beside you, taking a deep breath before placing a hand on the doorknob.

“Ready?”

You inhale, holding the breath as you nod. Just on the other side of this door is your future. Your entire world is standing just outside and waiting for you.

You can feel your heart beating, can hear the throbbing of it in your ears. A chill runs down your spine, making you wonder where all these nerves suddenly came from.

“I’m ready.”

Marie smiles, mouthing something you didn’t catch before pushing the door open.

Marie led you down the hallway, stepping in front of you to go down the stairs first. She waits for you at the bottom, taking your arm as you descend the stairs.

You look around the living room and take everything in. Nothing had changed, but somehow the flowers make the room seem more alive and vibrant.

And then your eyes land on Erwin, and the breath you had been holding gets released. Tall and blond and still oh, so handsome—just like the night you met him.

He smiles when he sees you, because he just can’t believe he managed to make you fall in love with him. You were ethereal to him, your smile alone radiant enough to light the entire world.

Nile and Anastasia both sit in wooden chairs, both dressed nicer than usual and smiling as they watch their friends.

When you finally take Erwin's hands it feels like you’re on top of the world. You want everything to stop for just a second so you can enjoy this moment longer. You exchange your vows and promises to each other, and it’s everything you could have wished for and more.

And then you kiss and god it’s just pure magic. You don’t think there’s ever been a moment in history where someone was happier than you were as you kissed your new husband.

You and Erwin pulled away for just a second before you kissed again, this time wrapping your arms around each other. You heard Anastasia whistle, saying, “Aye, hands to yourselves, guys. Save that for the bedroom.”

It makes you pull away from Erwin to laugh, leaning against him as he holds you close. 

The rest of the evening is filled with laughter. The six of you all enjoy each other’s company, getting to know each other more and more.

You and Erwin cling to each other, always touching in some way and never letting the other out of sight.

And it translates well later, when Marie and Nile have left and Anastasia and Henry have gone to bed. It leaves you and Erwin as the only ones away, sharing slow, sensual kisses as you slowly undress and touch each other. 

—

Golden rays streamed through the windows, creating an ethereal, early morning glow around everything.

You shared whispered words with Erwin, talking about where you should move to. You couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful man in front of you, your husband. The entire situation was dreamlike with the way Erwin was backlit from the sun. It created a glow around him that made you believe he might be an angel, highlighting his blue eyes.

“Where do you think we should go?”

“Maybe Trost. We passed through it on our last expedition. It’s a nice place, good people.”

You hummed, fidgeting with Erwin’s fingers as you thought. God, you could not look away from his face. The curve of his nose was beautiful, and the tilt of his lips when he noticed you staring was just so alluring.

“What are you thinking about?” he softly asks, not wanting to disturb the atmosphere around you two.

“Just you.” You smiled, quietly laughing when he wrapped an arm around your bare waist and pulled you flush against him. “And us.”

“What about us?” He nudged his nose against yours, lips just barely ghosting each other.

“Just our future. Where we’ll end up.” You let out a soft breath and closed your eyes, content with everything you have now. “When do you leave?”

“Three days.” Erwin sighed, pressing his forehead against yours. “And then I’m gone for about three weeks.”

You hummed, expression slightly faltering. But you weren’t sad. You knew that marrying him meant you would be alone more often than not. You had prepared yourself for this.

“Okay. Maybe I can start a business or something in that time. Just something for us to have a little extra money. I can make clothes,” you said.

Erwin smiled at your response, lightly tracing your spine with his fingertips. “I’ll be back for a few weeks after, though. We can be together more then.”

Your lips curve up, and you finally drew your gaze away from his to tuck your head where his neck met his shoulder. You left a soft kiss on his collarbone, letting out a satisfied breath as you basked in his presence.

“When should we start going?” you ask. “To Trost, I mean.”

“You want to go to Trost?”

You nod. “Why not? You said it seemed like a good place, so let’s go there.”

Erwin’s fingers softly tapped against your back. After a moment he stopped, instead splaying his hand across the small of your back and pulling you as close as possible.

“We should probably go before I leave, then. I don’t want you here for three more weeks, but I want to experience this first with you.” His face pressed against the top of your head, and he took a deep breath before continuing. “I want us to be a happy family.”

You smile. “We are a happy family. And we’ll be even happier as time goes on.”

And you were. You spent the rest of the day with Anastasia and her uncle before you left for Trost.

It was almost overwhelming. You realized as you looked for an available house that you truly had no idea how to be an adult and do these things, but it’s lucky that Erwin was there because he managed to figure it out and buy a lovely little house at the edge of the district.

You go out and find vendors that sell fabric after that, hoping to find a few pieces that you can hopefully make into clothing and sell. When you got back home he helped the two of you get settled down, and you made love once more in your new house before he had to leave.

You send him off with a passionate kiss, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him down to your level. You make him promise to return to you alive and in one piece before kissing him again.

And then he leaves, and you’re left in your new feelings of love.

—

You found out you were pregnant from the little clues your body gave you. You ignored them at first, telling yourself you missed your period because of the stress from making clothes, telling yourself that the nausea was from eating something weird the night before, telling yourself that the soreness on your lower back and chest was from sitting hunched over your desk as you sewed.

But one morning after throwing up you sat against the wall and thought about it. You put all the symptoms together and thought about what they could mean before the possibility of being pregnant dawned on you.

You stared at the panel of wood across from you for what seemed like hours before a tear slipped down your cheek.

You didn’t know why you were crying. You didn’t even know if this was a good thing or not. But you sat in that same spot for what must have been days just letting tears silently fall down your cheeks. You remember you grabbed your hair close to the roots and tugged, wanting to pull it out. You had pressed the heels of your hands against your eyes, hoping to stop the flow of hot tears before you stood up.

You took a deep breath and composed yourself, blinking the remaining tears from your eyes and wiping the wetness from your cheeks with a cloth. 

When you walked out of the bathroom, you ignored your revelation for as long as you could, hoping you were wrong. And it worked for a while. You dealt with the nausea and the soreness and the annoying voice in the back of your head telling you to start preparing for whatever baby might be on the way. You ignored it all and continued with your life as usual, making clothes and cleaning whatever mess you made and making food for one.

Of course, there was the occasional letter Erwin sent that told you his break was postponed. Every time it was because of something different. Be it the commander had gotten hurt again, there weren’t enough soldiers to spare, or some paperwork needed to be filled out. It didn’t matter what it was, there was always a reason for Erwin to stay.

It didn’t matter, though. Because you had everything figured out. You were making enough of a living on your own to provide for yourself and still have leftover money to do what you pleased with.

Sure, it had been almost four months since you last saw Erwin, but that was to be expected. He was part of the Scouts regiment, his schedule was bound to be busy.

All throughout that, you had been able to ignore your earlier revelation of being pregnant. In fact, you had nearly forgotten about it completely with how easily you were able to weave the daily dizzy spells and vomit into your life.

That is, you were able to ignore it until four and a half months later when you started to show. Your clothes started fitting just a little bit tighter and two weeks later you found yourself measuring the size of your stomach to make dresses that fit comfortably.

When you seemed to finally realize you were growing a child inside of you, you became more cautious of the things you did. You immediately sen Erwin a letter informing him of your pregnancy and started giving yourself bigger servings of food to help the baby inside of you grow and receive nourishment.

Erwin had yet to come back, but you had sent a strongly worded letter to Commander Keith Shadis, begging him to allow your husband to come home even if it was only for a day.

It worked, and a week and a half later you opened the front door to your husband, concerned and asking what was wrong before his eyes trailed down to your stomach. His eyes had widened, and you had to gently pull him by the arm to get him inside the house.

He stood in shock as you grabbed his luggage and set it to the side and took off his coat and hung it for him—all the things a good wife does for her husband. He abruptly turned his head in your direction as you hung his coat, mouth slightly agape as he took in your form again.

His eyes lingered on your stomach. It was barely noticeable, but it was an obvious change for someone that hadn’t seen you in months.

He took a tentative step closer to you and gently grabbed your hand. You look up at him, meeting his piercing gaze. You can’t discern exactly what he’s feeling, but he squeezes your hand and you figure that must count for something.

“Darling, are you . . ?” He can’t finish his sentence, but you know what he’s asking. You almost want to shake your head and deny it, and you probably would if it weren’t so obvious.

But you nod. And you watch as Erwin drops to his knees and begs for forgiveness.

—

The silence is deafeningly loud at dinner that night. Erwin holds your hand in his as your forks silently clang against the bowls. He runs his thumb over your knuckles, almost as if he’s scared to let you go. He keeps giving you apologetic looks, glancing over when he thinks you aren’t looking.

“I’m fine,” you finally say when you’re able to make eye contact with him. “Just . . .”

You trail off, making a vague hand motion to yourself. Erwin nods, and he doesn’t give you an apologetic glance again. But his hold on your hand does tighten. When you stand up to collect the dirty dishes, Erwin stands as well. He picks up the bowls and forks before you get the chance to, leaving you standing by the table helplessly.

“I can do things on my own,” you softly say when he comes back. He pushes both of your chairs in and takes your hands in his again. He looks down at you with heartbroken eyes and licks his lips before talking.

“I know. I just feel so bad that I wasn’t here.” He squeezes your hands, pressing his soft lips to your forehead. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to bask in the feeling of it after going what felt like forever without his touch. “I should have been here.”

“It’s okay,” you say, because it really is. He was busy and had things more important than his wife on his plate. He can’t be there for you like you want all the time. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

“I should have been here then. You shouldn’t have had to keep this for so long.”

“I told you about it in the letters I wrote.”

“What letters?” There was just the smallest sense of panic in his voice, and when you opened your eyes to look at him you saw the tips of his ears turn red.

“Did you not get my letters?” Your brows pulled together in a confused glance because you’re sure you addressed them correctly. Maybe you didn’t even send them to begin with. Or maybe they simply got lost in the mail.

But no, you did nothing wrong. Erwin had seen every single envelope addressed to him, and he always smoothed his finger over the edges before he set it down and told himself he’d read it later.

He never did. But you didn’t need to know that.

“I-I didn’t,” he lied. And he felt so bad about lying because you had done nothing to deserve being lied to. You had only been the wife he’d dreamed of having, waiting patiently for him to come home after weeks of being away.

He watched your expression fall. It wasn’t a drastic change, but it was just enough for him to notice.

“Oh. That-That’s alright. They probably got lost or something. Postal service, you know?” You let out a fake, pained chuckle before clearing your throat and glancing away. “But, uhm, yeah. I guess this is kind of it.” You vaguely motioned to yourself, biting the inside of your cheek.

Erwin stared at you, not knowing what to say as he watched you chew on your lip. You two stood in silence for what must have been hours before you finally drew out a breath and walked away. You didn’t know where you were going, but you assumed you would just figure that out as you went.

And you do figure it out, because you remember a dress you agreed to make for someone that’s waiting in the living room. Erwin follows you through the house, hesitantly putting his hand on your shoulder once you had started working.

“My love, are you upset?” His voice is soft, acting as if he were in a library.

You shake your head, not moving your focus from the needle and thread in your hands. “I’m fine. What would I even be upset about?”

“Y/n, I am so sorry. I would have come running if I’d known you were pregnant.” Erwin knelt beside you, placing a hand on your thigh and gently squeezing. The other was warm on your back, and you noticed how much rougher they had gotten as he traced small circles on the exposed skin of your nape.

“I said I was fine. I’m just tired.” That much was true. You were exhausted. You never imagined being pregnant would take this much out of you.

“Please let me do something for you. I can rub your back, or clean something, or-or make you breakfast tomorrow.” He sounds desperate, and the way he slightly pulls your leg to get you to face him tells you that he truly is. You can see the guilt in his blue eyes, and God it makes you feel so bad because he feels this way because of you. Sure, you expected some sadness and longing to come from this relationship, but not this.

So you give in. You put down your work, let your shoulders slump as you face him, and let out a breath. “Okay,” you say quietly. “You can make breakfast for me tomorrow if you want.”

Erwin lets out a relieved breath and closes his eyes, mouthing something you don’t catch before he presses your foreheads together and leaves a lingering kiss on your lips.

“Thank you.” His mouth stays against yours as he says it, and he kisses you again. “I promise to make everything up to you. I told you that you’d have everything you ever wanted in our marriage and I intend to make that a reality.”

You softly hum as he pulls away and stands, holding his hand out for you to take. You take it, because even though you can do these things yourself it’s still the touch of his hand against yours.

He leads you to the bedroom, where he kisses your hand and tells you he’ll be just a moment before leaving.

You spare a glance out the window and notice it’s late. You spent more time making dinner because you weren’t used to cooking as much as you did at once and you had burnt the first attempt. Erwin wouldn’t have minded, but you wanted to make him a nice dinner.

You undress, finding a nightdress that fits a bit too snugly and moving to put it on before you catch a glance of yourself in the mirror. You notice the faintest lines on your breasts and lightly trace over them with your fingers. They weren’t there before, and you’re not sure how to get rid of them.

You hear Erwin’s footsteps coming back to the room, and you quickly slip the nightgown over your body. It’s almost too small, and you know you’ll have to either make or buy new clothes soon.

You look at yourself in the mirror again. God, you hate the way you look. Exhausted and overworked, which makes no sense because you’ve been sleeping for the right amount of time and haven’t been piling too much work on yourself. You just look so worn out.

When Erwin opens the door and sees you looking at yourself in the mirror, he thinks you’re admiring the bump. He comes up behind you, trailing his hand across your shoulder and kissing your temple.

“I promise I’ll be more present,” he says against your hair. He places both hands on your arms, kissing you again before making eye contact with you in the mirror. “I promise, love.”

You softly hum, forcing a smile as you meet Erwin’s gaze in the mirror. “It’s alright. I know you have other responsibilities.”

“Nothing is more important than you,” he intejects. He turns you around so you’re face to face, making it so you can’t escape his gaze. “You should be the first thing on my priority list, Y/n. Don’t let me forget that.”

You softly nod, keeping your expressionless face as you stare at yourself in the mirror. He looks at you with sad eyes before leaning in, kissing your forehead.

“I love you, Y/n. I promise I’ll be better.”

“Just be here when they’re born. Or soon after. I just want you with me when they’re here.”

Erwin nods, a sort of determination evident in his eyes. “I will. I will, I promise.”

And what right did you have to think he was lying?

—

Erwin was called back to his post three days later.

He had left you alone again, but this time it became a routine of two weeks where he wasn’t home and two weeks when he was. You had formed your schedule around that, running most of your errands and chores while he was gone and clearing your agenda so you could spend time with him while he was off.

You often went to the market to buy groceries together, and Erwin would cook dinner for you in the evenings while you watched him from the dinner table.

You were pissed at him, but that had slowly gone away. You never stopped loving him, but something about having him back more regularly made your stomach flip.

Until he went off on an expedition and scared the shit out of you when he returned home two days later.

It only got worse after that. His stay with the scouts would extend further and further, making your time with him shorter.

And you truly didn’t understand why he couldn’t just come home when he was given breaks, especially because somehow Anastasia can find the time to visit you.

And that’s where you’re at now, sitting on the couch with Anastasia as you vent all of this to her. She’s silent as you talk, leaning back against the arm of the couch and nodding along with everything you say. She puts her input every now and then, making the kind of comments only she could get away with because they were funny.

And eventually, once you’ve gotten everything off your chest, you get up to make Anastasia tea because you hadn’t offered her any when she came in. It was the polite thing to do, especially since she was one of your closest friends.

However, when you stand, pain shoots through your body. You recognize it as a contraction, which is how you know you’re going to have this baby soon.

You try to continue with the task, but you have more and more contractions closer and closer together, and eventually Anastasia pieces two and two together before you do and rushes you out your front door.

She bribed someone with a wagon to give the both of you a lift, and before you know it you’re at a doctor’s clinic being told to calm your breathing.

“Y/n, why did you decide to have a baby at 16? This is actually a terrible idea.”

Maybe it was.

Maybe this entire thing was a mistake. Maybe you should have waited and thought this through before diving in headfirst. Maybe your parents were right and you should have given this entire thing more thought.

But those doubts are silenced. Because sixteen hours later on August 13, you hold your precious baby boy for the first time and realize this is it. Now that he’s here, Erwin has to be home more often.

You name the infant in your arms Benjamin—a strong name for the son of a strong man. A strong base for what you hope will turn into a strong relationship.

You could feel your eyes drooping, fighting off sleep as hard as possible. You had Anastasia write to Erwin and tell him his son had been born, telling her to keep it short and sounding urgent.

And she agreed, leaving your side to grab a sheet of paper to write on. In the short amount of time she was gone, you dozed off, hoping and praying and wishing this would be enough to get your husband back home.

But not all dreams come true, because Erwin Smith saw his son for the first time three months and fourteen days after he was born.

with ten minutes left of his birthday, happy birthday Erwin Smith

this is going to be a super long multipart series guys i’m sorry 💀 (not a lot of parts tho). also the title of this is literally complete bs i just had to title it so i just used the EP “Good Grief” by Leanna Firestone because I used the songs in that to describe a lot of feeling

but anyways! please for the love of god supoort this because i wrote this entire series in like two months and am going back and editing right now and i poured my entire heart and soul into it please like it

also know that it only goes downhill from here

but i hope y’all enjoyed it anyways

-Izzy <3

next part >>

TAGGING: @daisynik7 if you’d like to join the taglist for this series or be notified whenever I write for Erwin please leave a comment or DM!

[nominzn]

Jo Malone & Pinot Noir 3

chenle x leitora gênero: fluff. notas: eu não imaginava escrever uma segunda parte, imagina uma terceira... não quero me despedir desse lele, ele é maravilhoso demais. aproveitem!

Chenle tomava banho quando você despertou. Abriu os olhos pesados devagar, sentindo os lençóis quentinhos quase implorarem para que não mandasse o sono embora. Tombando a cabeça para o lado, viu um pouco do vapor que saía da porta entreaberta do banheiro, e o cheiro do sabonete gostoso preencheu teus sentidos.

Então, não pôde evitar as memórias da noite anterior. O jeito que tinham se tocado, as besteiras que ele disse no teu ouvido bem baixinho no carro, além dos elogios sem fim enquanto descobriam juntos o que o outro gostava...

Perdida nos devaneios, não percebeu Chenle voltar para o quarto de imediato. Ouviu uma das portas do armário correr e o observou tentar não fazer barulho. Os cabelos molhados caíam sobre as maçãs do rosto, o torso exposto revelava alguns arranhões, e você mordeu o interior da bochecha por timidez.

Ele vestia as roupas calmamente, sem notar que você já estava acordada. Apenas quando terminou de se vestir ele reparou o teu olhar diretamente nele e abriu um sorriso meigo, indo até a cama para te envolver nos braços.

— Bom dia, dorminhoca. — Ele enchia tua face de beijinhos doces, e você não conteve o sorriso ao devolver o cumprimento. Chenle apoiou um cotovelo na cama e com a mão livre começou um cafuné no teu cabelo. — Tá se sentindo bem?

— Sim, mas acho que vou ter problemas. — Você disse dengosa, se aninhando mais perto dele.

— Eu te machuquei? — Indagou preocupado, e você negou rapidamente, rindo.

— Claro que não, bobo. — A carinha confusa que ele fez te desmontou por dentro. — Vou ter problemas pra dormir sozinha de novo quando voltar pra casa.

— Que susto! — Ele beliscou tua cintura com carinho. — Minha cama tá sempre disponível, cê sabe... — Fingiu um tom sedutor com sorriso travesso que denunciava a brincadeira. — Mas... foi bom pra você?

Como reagiria a essa pergunta? Chenle foi, no mínimo, maravilhoso. Porém, não queria se entregar assim e parecer tão rendida.

— Foi. Muito. — Se antes já estava envolvida, agora parecia ter triplicado. 'O que ele fez?' pensava.

A face descontraída do rapaz se transformou numa séria e ele entrelaçou tua mão na dele, cálida.

— Pra mim também. Foi gostoso demais. — Pela primeira vez em muito tempo o viu desviar o olhar. Ele também estava tímido... Você quebrou Chenle Zhong.

Depois de mais uns carinhos preguiçosos, resolveu tomar um banho para despertar. Tinha deixado umas roupas no apartamento dele há umas semanas, vestiu umas peças confortáveis e o procurou pela casa.

Achou-o na cozinha, estava coando o café porque gostava mais feito assim. A mesa do café já havia sido posta por ele e tinha tudo que vocês mais gostavam: pão francês fresquinho, manteiga e queijo. Logo que terminou de passar a bebida, Chenle sentou-se na cadeira ao teu lado.

Silenciosamente, ele tomou um dos pães clarinhos e você já comemorou animada, sendo seguida dele. Era pra você. Ele montava o sanduíche com carinho, bem do jeitinho que já sabia.

— Quer que eu coloque na sanduicheira? — Perguntou porque você nunca sabe se prefere quente ou normal. Sempre tinha que checar.

— Não, hoje vou querer assim. — Então ele te entregou e riu da tua pequena dancinha de alegria. Você assistiu enquanto ele preparava um igual para si.

— O que cê vai fazer no final de semana? — O garoto tentou fazer o seu melhor poker face. Não poderia denunciar a empolgação com os planos que bolava.

— A Malu me chamou pra ir numa festa de família no Sábado, sei lá... — Você repassava a agenda na cabeça. — Talvez no Domingo eu visite minha prima que tá por aqui, mas não é certeza.

Chenle te olhava interessado enquanto mastigava. Ele já sabia o que responder, mas procurava as melhores palavras para que não soasse muito invasivo.

— E tem como você não fazer nada disso? — Solicitou com uma carinha de pidão, e você quase engasgou com o café.

— Como assim? — Cuidadoso, ele acariciou teu ombro para checar se está tudo bem. Aproveitou para consertar uma mecha que incomodava o canto dos teus olhos.

— Eu tenho um bom motivo.

— Lele... — Ele sorriu sem mostrar os dentes, seu esforço de não entregar nada indo por água abaixo. Escorregou as mãos pelo teu braço e pousou a mão na tua, entrelaçando-as. — É sério.

— Eu só quero te sequestrar rapidinho. Diz que topa, por favor. — Chenle esperou uma resposta, e você cedeu. Óbvio. Teria como dizer não para aqueles olhos? Ainda mais com o afago que seu polegar deixava no teu.

Notou ele soltar o sanduíche na mesa e tão logo pegar a xícara para bebericar o líquido quente. Ele não soltaria a tua mão para isso, poderia se virar bem assim. Você refletia se ele estava fazendo de propósito. Todas essas pequenas ações... teu coração pulava algumas batidas. Somente fitá-lo era necessário para que uma vontade imensa de estar o mais perto possível a invadisse.

Não contava, no entanto, que o garoto captasse tuas íris apaixonadas focadas nele. Na mesma hora levantou teus dedos até os próprios lábios e deixou vários beijinhos aquecidos de café pelos nós, seus olhos não se desviaram. É, não tinha mais jeito. Estavam perdidos mesmo.

No meio da semana decidiu procurar um look novo para a ocasião que Chenle tinha na cabeça. Definitivamente não sabia o que fariam, então tinha a intenção de se preparar bem. Tentou convencer Malu a ir ao shopping contigo, porém, não havia tempo em sua agenda pelos preparativos da festa da família. Bufou com desculpa da amiga. E agora? Não queria ir sozinha.

A única outra pessoa que já estava acostumada com tuas fugidas para banhos de loja era ninguém mais, ninguém menos do que Donghyuck.

você: bora no shopping hj? você: preciso de umas roupas você: se vc n me fizer perguntas eu te pago um bacio di latte

Jogou bem onde era seu ponto fraco.

hyuck: bacio E almoço hyuck: to bonzinho vou deixar vc escolher o restaurante

Não abusaria da boa vontade do amigo, então concordou. Após almoçarem, e você cumprir o trato da sobremesa, adentraram diversas lojas. Já tinha escolhido duas opções diferentes, mas a terceira e última precisava ser especial. Contava demais que Chenle te desse uma pista antes do dia para que usasse algo condizente; ele não havia revelado nada, no entanto.

A vendedora te ajudava a complementar o vestido de seda, que alcançava o meio das coxas, com um blazer de tom parecido, além da bolsa e das sandálias pelas quais havia se apaixonado na vitrine.

— E então? — A mulher esguia e jovem pergunta com expectativas, o rosto iluminado pela aprovação. — Eu achei esse fit perfeito, amiga!

— Ai, eu não sei, viu? — Mexia os pés, tentando identificar se tudo te agradava.

— Vou deixar você pensando um pouquinho. Quando estiver pronta, só acenar. — Ela se afastou, então, e Hyuck assobiou como uma cantada.

— Tá uma gostosa. Vai aonde assim? — O rapaz sorria de canto, tentando não levar uma bronca por meio que quebrar sua parte da promessa. Você apenas revirou os olhos, e ele fez um bico. — Coitado do Lele. — Suspirou, voltando a atenção ao celular e ao sorvete que estava enrolando para tomar.

— Como você sabe que é pra ele? — Voltou o corpo para o amigo, que levantou os olhos arregalados e confusos.

— VOCÊ VAI SAIR COM O CHENLE?

Puta que pariu! Tinha se denunciado à toa?

— Quem disse isso? — Olhou para os lados numa tentativa de despistá-lo. — Nada a ver.

— Mais uma vez a covardia vence a pureza. — Declarou derrotado. — Os de verdade eu sei quem são. Cobras por todo lado. De algum lugar a falsidade te assiste. Eu sei quem fecha com...

— TÁ! O Lele e eu... — Começou a falar, mas estava insegura. Será que realmente poderia contar? Não seria tão ruim, né? Donghyuck era teu amigo mais próximo depois de Chenle, afinal. Decidiu desabafar. — A gente tá se curtindo.

— Vocês estão FICANDO? — Quase gritou no meio dos provadores. Sentou-se, fingindo desmaio, no banco acolchoado à sua frente. — Por isso que ele não quis desenrolar com a gente na boate... Tudo faz sentido... E vocês sumiram... Ca-ra-lho. — Murmurou mais para si do que para que você, parecia juntar vários acontecimentos e perceber tudo. — Desde quando?

— Desde a noite de vinhos do Jaemin. — Você sorriu sem graça já prevendo sua resposta.

— ISSO JÁ FAZ DOIS MESES, PORRA! — Levantou-se novamente e suas mãos tamparam a boca em choque.

— Cala a boca, ou eu vou enfiar esse sorvete bem no seu...

— Nossa, que agressiva! Vou falar pro Chenle te dar um jeito. — Hyuck encolheu-se de pavor ao ver tua mão erguida para estapeá-lo. — Brincadeirabrincadeirabrincadeira! — Respirou aliviado ao te ver recuar. Olharam-se em silêncio, assimilando o segredo escancarado no ar. — Tô feliz por vocês dois. Finalmente, né.

Para falar bem a verdade, era um conforto poder dividir isso com o amigo. Já era hora. No caminho de casa contou-lhe outros detalhes, e se divertiram tanto desvendando os disfarces. Donghyuck confessou quantas vezes Chenle quis te falar tudo, mas o medo não deixou, e você se sentiu um pouco mais mexida.

Ainda era Sexta, parecia que a qualquer momento você iria surtar. O delinquente do teu ficante não tinha te falado um nada sobre o tal sequestro do dia seguinte, e você não conseguia se decidir o que vestir.

Chegando em casa do mercado, apressou os passos para pegar o elevador parado no térreo. Mal deu tempo do porteiro novo da tarde te alcançar para te dar o recado importante.

— A senhora é do 407, né isso? — O homem baixinho e simpático perguntou, segurando a porta do cubículo para te ajudar a entrar enquanto equilibrava as sacolas nos braços.

— Isso mesmo! Tudo bem?

— É que chegou uma encomenda pra senhora. Tá lá na frente, botei lá e fiquei tomando conta na câmera pra ninguém mexer. — Ele riu da sua cara de confusa. — Só pra senhora não se assustar.

— Ah, muito obrigada... — Assistiu-o fechar a porta, sentindo seu estômago revirar. Sabia que era Chenle porque não estava esperando nada.

Correu para o apartamento assim que pôde e viu um buquê de bombons ferrero-rocher decorado com flores mosquitinho, laços pretos e um girassol extravagante bem no meio. Era lindo. Entretanto, seu olhar bateu direto no bilhete dobradinho no canto.

Despejou as compras de qualquer jeito na cozinha e correu para ler a caligrafia simples do chinês: "Posso imaginar o seu bico vendo isso... Acertei? É só mais um mimo, dona encrenca. Te vejo amanhã às 18h, com a roupa número 3. Donghyuck tem uma boca enorme... Lele."

De fato, ele tinha acertado. Olhou para o espelho e notou o biquinho malcriado nos lábios, pelo presente e por Donghyuck. Só não ligava para o amigo agora para gritar porque ele pelo menos te ajudou um pouquinho. E ele jogaria isso na tua cara para se defender.

No dia seguinte, estava mais calma, por incrível que pareça. Talvez a garrafa de vinho pela metade estivesse ajudando. Retocou o batom escuro, consertando com lápis da mesma cor qualquer imperfeição. Estava prontíssima, e impecável, quando ouviu a campainha. Chenle já era conhecido pelo condomínio, podia subir sem ser anunciado.

— Nossa! — Ele exclamou após você abrir a porta. Te fitou de cima a baixo, sorrindo com os olhinhos apertados, ao mesmo tempo que você esconde um risinho bobo. Se inclinou para deixar um beijinho na bochecha do mais alto, e ele te sustentou com uma mão forte na lombar. — Tá tão linda. — Mumurou em teu ouvido, galanteador.

— Vamos? — Sabia que não poderia esconder as bochechas rosadas além do blush, mas tentaria, pelo menos. Trancou a porta com Lele ao teu encalço, levando-o pela mão até o elevador novamente.

Entrando, ele te fitou de forma engraçada. Estava vidrado em você. No entanto, aquele sorrisinho de canto como de quem soubesse de tudo não saía dos seus lábios. O canalha se divertia com esse mistério todo.

— Esse batom borra? — Ele questionou, arqueando uma sobrancelha enquanto te encurralava na parede metálica.

— Não... — Provocou-o mordiscando o próprio lábio inferior, como um convite.

Uma de suas mãos segurou tua mandíbula com força, e ele estalou a língua nos dentes, reprovando teu joguinho.

— Não brinca comigo.

— Por que você não testa? — Antes mesmo que teus dedos se amarrassem nos fios alinhados de Chenle, ele te beijou.

Sem pena ele se aproveitava da perfeição do tom acerejado que pintava tua boca enquanto tuas unhas arranhavam seu pescoço levemente. Sem ar, ele interrompeu o beijo sem quebrar a proximidade. Suas digitais afagaram tua bochecha com afeto, e ele entrelaçou suas mãos ao ver as portas abrirem.

A BMW esperava vocês bem em frente à portaria, e ao entrar no banco do carona sob o olhar cavalheiro do rapaz, as borboletas voltam. O que ele estava tramando?

Quando chegaram na Fogo de Chão, não conseguiu evitar rir. Chenle era mesmo dedicado. Você havia passado a semana anterior inteira comentando como o desejo de churrasco estava te consumindo, e ele não respondia nada. Agora entende a razão.

— Que ardiloso, Chenle Zhong! Você não presta!

— Pelo contrário, eu presto muito. Mas não nego que mandei muito nessa. — Ele se inclinou para te dar um selinho doce e saiu do carro, entregando a chave para o manobrista e disparando para abrir o outro lado para você.

Esperava encontrar o recinto lotado, por ser um Sábado à noite. Porém, só havia vocês e os garçons. Estudou as outras mesas vazias enquanto ele puxava a cadeira que você se sentasse.

— Estranho, né? Tá muito vazio. — Comentou, observando-o ir para a lado oposto da mesa. — Deve ser o horário, sei lá.

Enquanto ajustava o assento, Chenle riu com um toque de deboche. Ele pegou uma de tuas mãos e escondeu o rosto com os dedos livres, tentando acalmar-se.

— Que houve?

— Eu não ia te falar, mas você é tão linda, cara... — Ele te olhou mais sério. �� Meio que tá reservado pra gente por umas horinhas.

Tua cara fora impagável. Chenle quase tirou o celular do bolso para tirar uma foto.

— Chenle, você não reservou a churrascaria mais cara de Botafogo por algumas horas. — Você frisou cada palavra, sem acreditar naquilo.

O homem não queria te responder, porque sabia que a bronca ficaria maior caso tentasse. Não estavam ali para isso. Pediu o melhor vinho da casa para começarem o jantar relaxados. Você não conseguia ver, mas Chenle balançava os joelhos por baixo da mesa, estava mais nervoso do que você. Enquanto eram servidos cortes de carne da maior qualidade, mal podia se concentrar. As palavras passavam pela mente dele como um borrão apressado, apesar de tanto tê-las repassado.

— Lembra quando a gente era do jardim de infância? — Começou casualmente, olhando para o próprio polegar, que acariciava as costas das tuas mãos cálidas. Você murmurou uma resposta afirmativa. — No dia que eu empurrei o Pedrinho, você contrabandeou uns pedaços de massinha pra mim no cantinho do castigo.

— Eu não tinha medo do perigo. — Vocês riram com a lembrança. Eram tão pequenos, não sabia como Chenle se lembrava disso.

— Depois, quando a gente mudou de escola e continuou na mesma sala, lembra? Acho que a gente tinha uns 13 anos já.

— Lembro! — Bebericou o vinho suave. — Nenhum professor aguentava a gente naquela época. — Era verdade. Mesmo que tirassem notas ótimas, nunca calavam a boca. E Chenle era esquentadinho, disso recordava-se bem.

— Eu odiava quando você ficava sofrendo por causa de One Direction, puta merda. — Ele confessou, brincando. — Principalmente o Niall.

— Eu achei que você gostasse deles!

— Eu aprendi todas as músicas só porque queria entender do que você tava falando. Mas... — O rapaz virou o olhar para o lado, inibido pelo que falaria a seguir. — Eu tinha ciúmes deles, tá? Gostava tanto de você, e tu só queria saber do Niall.

— Você não gosta mais? — Indagou, fingindo mágoa. Chenle te repreendeu com o olhar quase severo, se não fosse pelo sorriso solto.

— Não. — Ele tomou tua outra mão na dele também. — Gostar é muito pouco pra dizer o tanto que eu quero você comigo.

— Lele...

— Lembra uns meses atrás que a gente tava fuxicando o insta da Bia pra saber se ela tinha aceitado o pedido de namoro? — Você assentiu novamente, sem compreender aonde ele queria chegar. — Tu quase surtou de felicidade quando viu que ele tinha dado uma aliança pra ela...

— E a gente brigou porque você falou que não era casamento, era só um namoro. — Lembrou-se do dia e fez uma cara de desgosto. Detestava discutir com Chenle. Suspirou derrotada. — Você tava certo, sabia? Não te disse isso antes. É só uma besteirinha, não faz sentido mesmo. — Ele sorriu fraquinho, te olhando apaixonado. — Mas eu acho fofo, tipo uma prévia de pra sempre.

— Então só pode ter aliança se for uma promessa de sempre?

— Mais ou menos isso, eu acho. — Deu de ombros e bebeu mais vinho quando ele soltou uma de tuas mãos para pegar o guardanapo dobrado milimetricamente na frente do teu prato.

Ele desfez a dobradura com calma e revelou um pequeno anel de prata ali. 'Não pode ser, bem na minha cara esse tempo todo!' Teus olhos curiosos e pasmos acompanharam Chenle levar a peça até mais perto do rosto e fazer uma cara totalmente falsa de choque.

— Você aceita minha amostra de pra sempre? — Ele pediu, te fazendo rir. Te admirou com sorriso grande e aproveitava o som sincero que saía dos teus lábios. — Quer namorar comigo?

— Claro que quero!

Chenle deslizou o anel em teu dedo como um príncipe, e você não se surpreende ao constatar que coube perfeitamente. Ele pensou em tudo mesmo.

— Você também vai usar uma? — Perguntou curiosa, esperando um não. Mas o rapaz apenas levantou a mão ao lado do rosto, exibindo a aliança bem ali.

Ele reparou que você não havia se dado conta antes, o que só tornou o momento melhor. Ele riu da expressão perplexa que mudou tua face, e você só conseguia pensar em como foi tão bem enganada.

Após o jantar, não conseguia parar de olhar a mão de Chenle em tua coxa ao dirigir. O dedo adornado com a jóia prendeu tua atenção o tempo inteiro na volta para casa, e ele já havia depositado inúmeros selares sobre o teu dedo anelar pelo caminho.

Como parte dos planos, o chinês te levou para a própria casa. Era um final de semana só para os dois, cheios de detalhe para que você fosse ainda mais dele.

— Quer ficar mais confortável? — Chenle perguntou, quase sugerindo. — O que você acha de ir tomando um banho?

— Hmmm, acho uma boa ideia. — Respondeu enquanto ele deixava alguns beijos pelo teu pescoço, e teus braços envolveram-no pelos ombros. — Vai comigo?

— Nunca recusaria um convite desses. — Ele riu nos teus lábios antes de deixar ali um selinho demorado. — Mas vai primeiro, vou só ajeitar umas paradas aqui.

Chegando ao quarto do namorado, foi direto ao banheiro, dando de cara com mais um de seus bilhetes. Desta vez, estava pregado numa cesta de produtos de pele.

"Não sei se são os certos. Tirei foto dos seus outro dia. Sim, eu sou o melhor namorado do mundo."

Filho da mãe. Sabia que você aceitaria.

— CHENLEEEEE!

— Oi, mô. — Usou o apelido com ternura, aparecendo com sorriso travesso na cara.

— Você... — Apontou para o kit sobre a pia de mármore. — Obrigada, vida.

Nada poderia medir o tamanho da felicidade que iluminou sua face. Ele encerrou a distância entre os corpos, te abraçando forte como nunca.

— Eu tô feliz que sou sua e que você é meu. — Segredou na curva de seu colo com timidez.

— Eu sempre fui seu, amor.

E, então, ele te encheu de amor naquela noite. Marcou cada traço da tua pele com um pouco do desejo dele, além de satisfazer todos os teus. E por todas as outras que vieram, ele te amou mais. Amá-lo era tão leve e fácil porque era certo. Para sempre, o nome dele estaria gravado como tatuagem sobre tua história.