#He told me today that I had to be at the shop at 2 so if I was taking lunch I needed to take it before 2 or after the job we had to do

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[2:24 pm]

(cw: f!reader, suggestive, profanity, written on my phone so expect some typos)

“Baby, are you sure your big gave you permission to drive his car?” You asked fratboy!Jaehyun, eyes on him as he drove.

“Sweetheart, he basically begged me to take this baby for a spin! He asked me to water his plants, feed the dogs, and asked me to make sure the car was alright! A car like this needs to be taken out on a regular basis!” Jaehyun explained, his eyes not leaving the road ahead of the both of you.

Earlier today when Jaehyun had told you to come to the frat house, you hadn’t expected anything out of the ordinary. Even when he’d told you to make sure you were dressed up, you didn’t question it. It was pretty safe to say that you definitely weren’t expecting to see your boyfriend waiting for you while leaning against a Maserati! A sleek and shiny luxury car that had you wondering if cars were actually sexy like guys always talked about.

“Please don’t tell me you took out a loan for this. I know guys find cars sexy, but you’re smarter than this. Did you mix alcohols last night?” You asked with concern clear in your tone.

Jaehyun waved you off with a laugh and explained that his big, a major donor to the frat, had asked him to house sit for the week. That’s how you’d gotten here, in the leather passenger seat of the fanciest car you’d ever been in and on your way to a restaurant equally as fancy.

This restaurant Jaehyun had insisted on taking you to was about half an hour from campus, so while he focused on the road, you were in charge of directions. At least you were supposed to be, but how could you possibly focus on the screen of your phone when your boyfriend looked absolutely scrumptious behind the wheel?

He was in a crisp dress shirt, a bow tie around his neck with one hand at the top of the wheel and the other pinching his bottom lip gently while he hummed along to the song on the radio. “How far away is the exit, sweetheart?” He asked, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

“Huh? Oh, um…” you looked at the screen of your phone in your hands, “oh shoot. It’s rerouting. The next exit is in 3 miles.”

“Alright, thanks, Sweets. I made a reservation for this place so we can’t be too late,” he tells you, leaning over to give your thigh a gentle squeeze.

With his touch you feel your heart pound even faster, face growing hot. Did he even know what the hell he was doing to you? Touching you, taking you on a spontaneous date, looking like a model right off the runway, and just being the best boyfriend ever. He was everything you’d ever dreamed of, everything any girl dreamed of.

This effect he had on you was something else completely. So strong and intense that you’d now missed the exit you were supposed to take and the next 4 that followed. You even make him accidentally take the wrong exit a couple times because you glance at the screen right after you miss the exit you’re supposed to take and panic as you tell him to take the next one, even if it’s the wrong one.

Jaehyun groaned, trying to keep himself calm despite how frustrated he was feeling,“Sweetheart, we have 5 minutes before we lose our reservation and we’re 15 minutes away. What is making you so distracted?! It’s not hard to look at your screen, Sweets, we do it all the time.”

You flush with embarrassment, “baby, I’m distracted!”

“Distracted by what?! Sweetheart I’m going to have to break a handful of driving laws to make it to this restaurant on time,” he sighs tiredly, trying to hide his frustration with you.

He was trying to be spontaneous! How often did a couple of college kids get to go to a restaurant this fancy? Never. Since his big was paying him pretty handsomely for house sitting, Jaehyun had figured he could treat you by taking you out to the nicest dinner both of you had ever shared. This was a big step up from the usual diners and small food shops you usually went to.

“But you just look so fucking good right now! How am I meant to be looking at a phone when I would so much rather be looking at you? Seriously, babe, you look so sexy. I don’t know if it’s the dress shirt or you behind the wheel but something is doing it for me,” you confess with hot cheeks.

It’s Jaehyun’s turn to flush now, was the car hitter or was it just him? And then the next words that leave your lips have him wishing for the earth to swallow him whole. Very sweetly, very calmly, you ask, “do your think your big would know if we had sex in here?”

Jaehyun swerves the car, hearing multiple honks from his fellow drivers on the freeway. He swallows hard, eyes wide, “Sweetheart, you can’t just ask a guy that when he’s driving!”

You pout at him, reaching across the center console to hold his hand, “but you’re not just a guy. You’re my guy, you’re my boyfriend.”

“God, you’re going to be the fucking death of me, Sweetheart,” he sighs under his breath, then his back straightens and a smug smile comes over his handsome features, “I’m that distracting in a bow tie, huh?”

“Don’t let it get to your big head, take this exit,” you instruct with a playful roll of your eyes.

So that’s how you and Jaehyun find yourselves sitting across from each other with the finest food you’ve ever eaten. You have a happy smile on your face while you take another bite of the delicious food on your plate, and Jaehyun who sits across from you and wishes he’d never chosen a restaurant so far from home and chosen some looser dress pants. The things he does for you…

[stardustrebels]

A Hunger Like This- A Joel Miller x f!reader one shot

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader Rating: E/ 18+ MDNI WC: 5k

Summary: I really wanted to write a Joel Miller Valentine’s Day story, but couldn’t decide between naughty or nice so I wrote both.

Tags: No Outbreak!AU, established relationship, Joel Miller x f!reader, no/ minimal age gap, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PIV, pet names (darlin’, sugar, honey, baby,) dirty talk, rough sex, creampie and some bdsm elements- D/s dynamics, praise, light spanking, pussy/ clit tapping, edging and orgasm denial. Use of traffic light system & aftercare. Everything’s safe, sane and consensual. No use of y/n, minimal descriptions of reader. She wears fishnets, a bra and heels and has hair long enough to pull. Joel Miller is a competent partner because of course he is. Possessive dom!Joel comes out to play. He eats pussy like an absolute beast, as he should. 

A/N: A Valentine’s day story with a rough Joel Miller who’s had a bad day and a reader who likes to tease. I just wanted an excuse to write something porny for fun and it ended up a bit of a monster. I’m not even sorry. 1/2 of my Joel Miller Valentine’s day naughty & nice one shots. Enjoy!

You knew by the way Joel answered the phone at lunch time that he was having a bad day. He was still kind, called you the sweet names he usually did, and still told you he loved you before he hung up, but you could tell from his tone that something was wrong. He was dog-tired from working too hard and trying to hide it from you. He’d told you he booked a table at your favourite place for that night to celebrate Valentine’s day with you, but you knew it was only to make you happy. He’d told you once he’d do anything to see you smile. 

You figured you could probably make his day at least a little better by offering to spend the night at home, but you wanted to make it extra special, and when you eventually decided on how you would do that, your insides fluttered with anticipation. Joel wasn’t one to talk much about what he wanted, but you paid attention when he did. One night during lazy conversation between tangled sheets he’d let something slip. 

“Fishnets, huh?” You’d teased, grinning as you lay draped across his chest. 

“Mhm.” His voice had been thick with sleep, his fingers trailing idly across your skin as he admitted there was just something about the idea of fishnets and heels that drove him wild, that they had since he was a teenager, and you’d stored that little detail away knowing that you’d use it one day. Today was that day. 

By the time Joel’s truck pulled in to the driveway, you’d positioned yourself in the entryway, leaning against the wall in black fishnets, the bra from the lingerie set Joel had bought you last year, a barely-there skirt that left little to the imagination, and your favourite pair of black heels. 

When he stepped inside, the first thing you noticed was the bouquet in his hand- red roses held together by brown paper with a familiar logo stamped on it. This man, despite his tiredness, had gone across town after work to pick up flowers from your favourite shop. Your heart stuttered and for a second you almost abandoned your plan and ran straight in to his arms. 

You stopped yourself as soon as you saw the look on his face.

“Jesus Christ.” Was all he offered as he closed the door behind him.

You stepped forward, smiling sweetly as you reached out to lay a hand against his arm.

“Rough day, baby?” 

Joel’s fingers tightened around the bouquet, the paper crinkling under the grip. His gaze dragged over you so slowly you could practically feel it. 

You took the bouquet, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Are these for me? They’re so beautiful, thank you.” You said, tone saccharine as you placed them down on the console table beside you. 

Moving your attention back to him, you slid your hands up his chest to push his jacket from his shoulders. He let you, though you could feel how tense his muscles were under your touch. 

“Darlin’…” he muttered, so low you would have missed it had you not been standing right in front of him. You shushed him, giving his jacket one last shove, letting it land on the floor by his feet. 

You leaned in, lips grazing the shell of his ear. “You’ve been working so, so hard,” you said, emphasising the words with an exaggerated pout and a whine. 

The way his eyebrows shot up towards his hairline almost made you break, but you caught yourself before you laughed, pressing a kiss against his shoulder to hide your smile before you continued. “Why don’t I help you relax?” 

His hands drifted up to rest on your waist, fingers pressing gently in to the soft skin there, one of his favourite parts of you, he’d admitted one night. You peppered gentle kisses up his neck toward his jaw as your hands wandered across his chest and down the firm muscles of his arms, before moving to undo the buttons of his shirt. His jaw clenched hard under your lips as your fingers ghosted over his bare chest, and you expected him to snap, to take control the second your hand touched his bare skin, but he didn’t. 

Interesting. 

You felt his stomach tense under your touch, heard the tiny intake of breath as your fingertips dipped lower and brushed just past the waistline of his jeans, but he didn’t move. 

You grinned and leaned in to brush a kiss under his ear, where you knew he was sensitive. His fingers twitched against your waist, but still he held back. 

“You must be exhausted, baby,” you murmured against his skin, voice dripping with sympathy. “I thought for sure by now you’d be telling me exactly how you wanted me.” 

The hitch of his breath was almost satisfying, but he still didn’t react. It made you pause for a second. Was he too tired? Had you misread this? Doubt crept in around the edges of your plan, and you faltered a little, until you glanced up at him.

His lips were curled in to a devilish grin, dark eyes locked on yours, dazed with a look that was nothing more than pure, unadulterated lust. He was letting you have your little game, enjoying it until it was time for him to play.

Oh. 

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure, but the heat now pooling in your stomach made it difficult. 

You pressed a couple more kisses down his neck and onto his shoulder for good measure before taking his hand to lead him further in to the house. You made sure to sway your hips just enough, knowing damn well that his eyes were fixed on your ass. 

You could practically feel the tension radiating off him when you stopped in front of the couch, and a heat crept up your neck at the severity of it. You resisted the urge to look at him, knowing if you caught another glimpse of that dark, hungry look in his eyes, you’d lose your nerve entirely. 

You stepped close to him, your focus fixed on your hands dragging up his chest, slow and deliberate, pushing his open shirt to hang loose on his shoulders. You traced a nail lightly across his sternum, revelling in the subtle shiver that ran through him at the sensation, and you couldn’t help your smirk when you noticed his jaw tick out of the corner of your eye. 

You pressed yourself against him and reached for one of his hands, guiding it to rest on the front of your thigh. A sound rumbled from his throat then, a low groan that he couldn’t hold in, but he still didn’t move. His fingers trailed up with encouragement from yours on top, his rough skin catching against the delicate net. You pushed his hand up further, brushing past the hem of your skirt and between your legs. His body went rigid against yours when he realised you’d forgone any underwear as part of the surprise. 

Something in the air around him shifted as his fingers hovered between your legs, just shy of where you wanted them. Resisting the urge to buck your hips up in to his hand, you finally met his gaze and his expression made your heart skip more than a few beats. He’d never looked quite so intense; pupils blown with lust, nostrils flared, taking slow, deep breaths. You were struck with the sudden urge to run. 

As if he could sense it, he pushed you down on to the couch before you could move. The air left your lungs with a squeak as you collided with the cushions. He caged you in with his arms and took one last deep breath as he smiled down at you. 

“My turn,” he said in a growl, kicking your legs apart with a gentle tap of his foot before sliding down to kneel between them. 

You let out a whine as he admired you for a second, head tilted slightly at the sight in front of him. He trailed his hands up, pushing the skirt up to bunch up around your waist.  “Is this what you wanted?” He murmured, eyes locked between your legs as his thumb brushed over your clit, pushing the net against it ever so slightly. You sucked in a breath and raised your hips, trying to gain just a tiny bit more friction. 

He stilled and his other hand slapped the inside of your thigh, just hard enough to sting and send a jolt of electricity through your core. 

“I asked you a question, baby.” He said, his voice thick with arousal. “This what you wanted when you decided to tease me like that?” 

You swallowed hard, head spinning from how quickly he’d flipped your game on its head. 

“Yes,” you whimpered, gasping when his thumb pushed harder against the seam over your clit. “Yes, Joel, it’s what I wanted.” 

He hummed in approval, adjusting his weight to pepper kisses up your thigh. You bucked your hips again and Joel tapped your clit lightly with his fingertips, making you gasp and grip the cushions on either side of you. 

“Uh-uh, dirty girl,” Joel muttered against your skin, resuming his trail of kisses, torturously slow. “For all your teasin’? You’ll get what I fuckin’ give you.” 

When he reached the apex of your thigh you let out a long, needy whine, trying desperately not to squirm as he nudged his nose against your mound, pressing his tongue flat over the net that barely covered your folds. Your head fell against the back of the couch and you let out a string of curses, causing him to chuckle, the vibrations of it heightening every sensation. 

The seams between the holes of your tights were scraping against you as he licked, adding a new level of torture as his tongue flicked up and down, catching tiny points of your skin underneath. Your legs trembled, heels sliding against the floor as you tried to arch up to his mouth, desperate for more, but his fingers dug in to the outside of your thighs, keeping you pinned. Every time his tongue dragged against the fabric, it was almost where you wanted it most, but not quite. It was torture. Exquisite, delicious torture. 

You let out another whine, this one more frustrated than the last and Joel stopped altogether. 

“Somethin’ wrong, darlin’?” He drawled, lips ghosting over the netting, his breath hot against the dampness that had gathered there. “Thought this was what you wanted?” 

You groaned and gripped fistfuls of cushions in clenched fists. Joel hummed in amusement and kept going, alternating between light flicks of his tongue and slow, dragging licks that made you squirm uselessly under his hold. Every time you tried to angle yourself so that your tongue would hit where you ached for it, the fishnets got in the way. It wasn’t until you felt the breaths of another soft chuckle that you realised he was doing it on purpose. Another frustrated noise bubbled up in your throat, and you grimaced at how sensitive your clit was under the seams dragging against it. 

“Joel, please-”

He exhaled sharply, the sound almost sympathetic, but the way his tongue continued its ministrations told he wasn’t quite done making you suffer. You gasped when he sucked gently on the sensitive spot just above your clit, his teeth scraping lightly, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you. Your legs twitched, thighs threatening to close around his head, but he gripped your hips and held you where he wanted you. 

“Jesus,” you gasped, panting now, every muscle tight with need. “Joel, I- I can’t-” 

He groaned against you, tongue pressing a little harder, still blocked by the crosses in the fabric. You let out a desperate sob and raised your head from the back of the couch. He stilled and locked eyes with you. 

You felt as wrecked as he looked, and he must have felt some pity for you because the next thing you knew, his fingers were tearing a hole in your fishnets, right at the center of your soaked aching core, earning a gasp and a shocked, breathy laugh from you. 

He ripped at the fabric until he was satisfied with how much of you he’d uncovered, groaning at the sight now in front of him. He swatted lazily at your thighs, pushing them further apart. 

“Spread those legs, baby. Let me see what’s mine.” He rasped, voice dripping with desire. 

You hardly had time to take another breath before he was on you. His tongue was everywhere- hot, wet and relentless. Now that there was nothing in the way, Joel was devouring you like a man starved. You struggled to focus on anything, but obeyed and spread your legs wider, earning a muffled hum of approval as he buried his face deeper. 

Your fingers found their way in to his hair, threading through his thick curls as his tongue worked you over, unsure if you were pulling him closer or trying to push him away. Either way, Joel wasn’t going anywhere. 

His grip on your thighs tightened as he flattened his tongue and dragged it up through your folds again and again, his low groans mingling with yours in the most intoxicating way. 

“Fuck, sugar,” he murmured against your heat, “Ain’t a single inch of you I don’t wanna put my mouth on.” 

You gasped as he latched on to your clit, sucking just hard enough to make your back arch. The pleasure was sharp, coiling tight at the base of your spine, dancing just beyond your reach and tempting you to chase it. 

And then, he pulled back. 

You groaned in protest and your fingers tugged uselessly at his hair, trying to guide his head back to where it had been. Joel chuckled, pressing a wet kiss to your inner thigh instead. 

“Not yet, darlin’,” he murmured, glancing up at you. His face would have been the picture of innocence had it not been absolutely saturated in the evidence of your arousal. 

His fingers replaced his mouth, teasing through your folds, barely pressing where you needed them. You writhed beneath him, trying to push in to his touch, but he only pulled away again, leaving you aching. 

You whined a plea down at him, voice cracking with frustration and he hummed back in mock sympathy.  “Y’gonna be a good girl f’me?” 

“Yes,” you gasped, more desperate than you’d ever been for him to make you come, “Yes, please I’ll be good. I’ll be a good girl just please-”

His tongue was on you again in an instant, causing your rambling pleas to morph in to a deep moan in your throat, but it was too soft and slow, keeping you just on the edge without allowing you to fall over it. 

“Joel,” you sobbed through your moans, rocking your hips, “I- I need-”

“Oh, I know, baby,” he said, pouting before pressing a teasing kiss on to your clit. “Poor thing. You’re real close, huh?” 

Your fingers tightened in his hair. “Yes!”

He pulled back again, lips curling smugly as he looked up at you, eyes dark and heavy-lidded. 

“You’ll come when I let you.” 

The whine that left your lips was such a foreign sound to you, you almost couldn’t believe you’d made it. Your thighs were trembling uncontrollably and you glanced down at Joel, tears blurring the edges of your vision. His smirk softened just a fraction at the sight of you and his fingers moved from your thigh to trace the curve of your hip. 

“We green, darlin’?” His voice was rough with restraint. Your head was swimming, but the mention of your safe word system grounded you for a moment.

You swallowed thickly, nodding. “Yeah,” you gasped, breath hitching at how delicately he was caressing your skin. “We’re green.”

“Atta girl.” He rumbled, voice thick with approval. He traced slow circles back down to your thigh, his eyes fixed on yours, watching your changing expression intently. “You’re gonna be good f’me, ain’t you? Good girls get to come.”

When you let out a sigh and shot him a relaxed smile and a nod, his satisfied smirk returned, sharper this time. His head dipped again, and he pressed teasing kisses around your clit before flicking his tongue over it, making you shiver. It wasn’t long before you were moaning and gasping again, whispering broken pleas up toward the ceiling. 

“Tell me how bad you want it,” he ordered, his thumb taking over, pressing against your clit in the way he knew drove you crazy. “Beg for it, baby.” 

You had no pride left, no shame. They were gone and raw, desperate need had taken their place. Your head fell back and your hand left his hair to grasp at the edge of the couch and you rocked your hips against his hand, legs threatening to close around his head. 

“I need it, I need to come, I- please, fuck, Joel, I-”

He groaned and slid two fingers inside of you, curling up to press against the spot he knew made you come undone. The moment he nudged it, you let out a sharp cry, hips jolting toward him as the heat coiled tighter in your stomach. 

“There it is, pretty girl. Come f’me, let me feel it,” he murmured, before flicking his tongue back against your clit. 

You clenched around his fingers in response, thighs twitching, pleasure so sharp it was almost unbearable. Your moans gave way to a garbled sob, fingers clutching the cushions in a desperate attempt to ground yourself. Joel grunted and lapped at your clit like a man possessed. Every flick, every calculated curl of his fingers, every slick, filthy sound had you spiralling toward your inevitable release. 

You held your breath as your body went tight, pleasure knotting so tightly you thought you might snap in half. When you finally fell over the edge, it hit you like a truck; pleasure slamming through you so hard your vision went white. You let out a choked cry as your entire body seized, back arching clean off the couch. The pleasure was devastating- wave after wave of it crashing through you, with Joel’s fingers dragging every last drop of pleasure from you as you sobbed his name, trembling under his touch. 

After a moment, his hands slid down your legs to your feet, his touch gentle and reverent. He sat back on his heels and slid your shoes off one by one before tossing them over his shoulder. His hands continued their tracing, back up to your waist. He unbuttoned your skirt before pulling it off in one smooth motion, leaving your wrecked fishnets firmly in place. 

He stood, unbuckling his belt and shrugging off his shirt. You bit back a moan when he shoved down his jeans and boxers, freeing his hard, leaking cock. He stroked himself, breathing heavily as he watched you squirm and lick your lips beneath him.

Before you got a chance to really admire him, Joel grabbed you and flipped you on to your front, setting you on all fours, fingers hooking in the net to drag your hips toward him, causing the fabric to rip again. He ran his palm over the curve of your ass and gave it a squeeze as his other hand slid between your legs, fingers pressing against your swollen clit, drawing a choked moan from you. 

“So sensitive, sugar. I know you can take it, though.”

You whimpered, pushing back against him, silently begging for more. Joel huffed a laugh as he lined himself up against your entrance, teasing. 

“Tell me you want it.” 

“I want it,” you gasped, hands clutching against the cushions, scratching at the fabric as you keened.. “I want you. Please, Joel-” 

He didn’t make you wait any longer. With a low, wrecked groan, his entire length was inside you in one slow, ruinous thrust. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he hissed through gritted teeth, fingers digging in to your hips. “You feel so goddamn good. Gonna let me take what I need, darlin’?”

“Yes,” you sobbed, arching your back to press further into him, revelling in the way he was stretching you: overwhelming in the best way. 

Joel pulled back and slammed in to you again, setting a ruthless pace, dragging you back to meet him with every thrust. His hands were rough, one hand gripping your hip, the other sliding up your back to fist in to your hair.

“That’s right, pretty girl,” he praised. Each thrust was deep and desperate, stealing what little breath you had left from your lungs with each sharp snap of his hips. Joel sounded like he was hanging on by a thread, babbling strings of praises punctuated by hissed curses, voice wrecked and rough with need. “You’re mine, ain’t you? Mine. Takin’ me so well. Made for me. So fuckin’ perfect.” 

His hand left your hair and you almost whined with the loss of contact before his fingers curled around the nape of your neck, the feeling pulling a deep, animalistic moan from your throat. The sound only seemed to spur Joel on, and he dragged you up against his chest, keeping his rhythm with near-perfect precision against something blissful deep inside of you. 

He pressed a burning kiss to your neck, growling against the spot just below your ear. You could barely keep yourself upright, but Joel was one step ahead of you, wrapping an arm around your middle to keep you pressed to him, his other hand reaching between your legs, fingertips circling expertly against you, despite the rapid pace he’d set. 

“Love havin’ you like this,” he rasped, rhythm stuttering just slightly as you clenched around his cock. “Fuck, that’s it, you’re gonna give me another, ain’t you?” 

A sob tore from your throat, a familiar pleasure tightening like a vice inside of you. 

“I got you, sweet girl. C’mon, come on my cock. Let me feel it.” 

You shattered with a cry, pleasure ripping through your muscles so intensely you thought you might collapse beneath the force of it, but Joel held you steady, his movements turning frantic, losing his perfect rhythm as the tight heat of you squeezed him, pulling him over the edge alongside you with a deep, guttural groan. It vibrated against the damp skin of your neck and contorted in to something soft and raw, breaking apart in to broken whimpers as he spilled inside of you, his body wracked with tiny, involuntary shudders. His hands trembled where they held you, fingers flexing and gripping like he needed you closer, even though there wasn’t a single inch left between you. 

It left you gasping, sucking in the air even though it felt like there was none left in the room; overwhelmed by the sheer intimacy of it all. The way he clung to you, the way his lips imparted breathless murmurs of your name, the word falling over your skin again and again like a confession. His devotion to you rolling off of him in waves, pulsing through you with every thump of his heart against your back, along with aftershocks that made you quiver along with him. 

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The only sounds filling the space were your gasping breaths -  lingering echoes of your pleasure. You turned your head just enough to press a shaky kiss to the side of his jaw, the sharp scratch of his scruff pulling you further from your reverie. He let out a heavy exhale and rested his forehead against your temple, his breath cool against your scorching skin. 

“Fuck, I love you,” he finally said, voice scratchy and worn. You gave a satisfied hum. You knew he did. How could you not - he was clutching you to him like some precious thing that might fizzle out of existence the moment he let go. 

“I love you too,” you said in return, lifting a hand to cup the back of his head, carding your fingers through his thick, tousled curls. “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.” 

He peppered kisses down your neck in response and shifted so that he could slide out of you. You groaned in unison as he did, his spend leaking out on to your thigh. He ghosted a finger between your legs to feel it, and a low hum rumbled from his chest; the feel of it igniting the residual embers of possessiveness, ever-present at the edges of his desire for you. 

“Can you stand?” Joel said against your neck. You nodded, and moved away from him, but the moment he eased his grip and your feet hit the rug, your legs wobbled beneath you. His reflexes were quicker- of course they were, and his strong arms were around you before you could sway even an inch.

“Yeah, I figured,” he chuckled. “C’mon, sugar. Hold on t’me.” 

He slid a hand down your arm and laced his fingers with yours as you clutched his arm to steady yourself. Even when you found your footing, he kept his hold on you, making sure you were alright on your own before he even thought about letting go. He turned you to face him and lifted himself from the couch to press a soft kiss against your lips, the energy of it in such stark contrast to how he’d fucked you not ten minutes before. You sighed in to the kiss, tasting yourself on him as his tongue danced over your lips, coaxing yours out to meet it. 

“Let’s get these off,” he said, crouching down to help you out of your torn fishnets. He peeled them off with care, muttering about how it was a damn shame, before glancing up at you with such a salacious grin that it made you giggle. 

“Guess I owe you a new pair of these, huh?” 

You smirked, “Only if you wanna do that again.” 

His smile grew, crooked, lazy and just shy of arrogant. 

“I’d do that every day if I could, sweetheart.”  

Joel stood and his hands moved to your bra, unclasping it with practised ease, his fingertips following it as it slid from your body, his gaze tracing over every inch of exposed skin. 

“Christ, look at you,” he muttered, tone tinged with reverence, “Most beautiful thing I ever laid eyes on.” 

You felt suddenly shy at the way he was looking at you and you shot him a coy smile. His hands cupped at your waist and he guided you in the direction of the bathroom. 

“Let’s get cleaned up, darlin’.” 

The steam of the shower curled around you both as Joel pulled you under the water with him, his broad chest solid against your back. He took his time, lathering shampoo through your hair, massaging at your scalp until you melted against him. His lips found the curve of your shoulder and he pressed soft, lingering kisses between quiet murmurs of praise. 

Once you were both clean, wrapped in the fluffiest towels you could find, Joel led you to your bedroom and draped your robe over your shoulders while he rifled through drawers for the comfy clothes he knew you favoured on nights like this. He froze when he turned back to you, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. 

“Shit,” he said, “We’ve missed our damn dinner reservation.” 

You bit your lip, sheepishly avoiding his gaze as you took your clothes from him. 

Joel squinted at you, catching the shift in your expression. “What?” 

“I canceled it earlier,” you muttered, a shy grin curving your lips. 

His brows lifted. “You did?” 

You shrugged, reaching out to clasp his hand in yours. “I thought we could just have a quiet night at home instead. Just us. Order a pizza or something. I just wanna spend some time with you, Joel, I don’t mind where we do it. I bought you some beers, or we could have some wine- maybe just relax for a bit?” 

Joel only stared at you, the crease between his brows deepening like he was trying to work through what you’d just said. His throat bobbed and his fingers twitched against yours as he let out a shaky breath.

A quiet chuckle slipped past his lips, but there was a slight waver to it. “I’d love that, sweetheart. It sounds perfect.” 

You barely had time to register the movement before he was wrapping his arms around you, tugging you against him so tightly it almost knocked the breath from your lungs. His nose nestled in to your hair as he held you, chest rising and falling in controlled breaths beneath your cheek. 

“You’re so good t’me.” 

Joel had dressed in his sweats and left the room after checking in with you one last time and pressing a kiss to your temple. You agreed to meet him downstairs once you had dressed and dried your hair. 

By the time you made your way down, Joel had cleaned up. The evidence of your earlier tryst had been erased: your shoes, the fishnets and Joel’s clothes were gone. He’d placed your favourite blanket on the edge of the couch and there was an open bottle of wine on the coffee table between two glasses. The bouquet of roses he’d brought home was already in a vase on the side table, and you allowed yourself a second to admire them. 

Joel was leaning against the counter in the kitchen, phone in hand. The sight of him in comfy clothes made your heart ache- you couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him in them. He glanced up when you walked toward him, a smile breaking through the tiredness on his features.  “Pizza’s on its way,” he said as you reached for him, tucking your hands under his t-shirt, suddenly struck with the need to feel his bare skin against yours again. 

“Great,” you said, “You wanna come cuddle with me on the couch?” 

He cupped your cheek and his eyes flitted between yours as he looked down at you, his expression overflowing with adoration. 

“I’d love nothing more, darlin’.” 

[adoresia]

꣑ৎ contains ★ Fluff (?) ,, ft Nagi Seishiro :: ★ People usually buy you flowers when they love you. I dunno, that’s the only scenario I can imagine someone giving you flowers to be honest…

˙🧷 ̟ Sia here ! :: BEFORE READING!! I AM BEGGING YOU. WHILE READING LISTEN TO THIS. If you don’t I promise I’ll be under your bed every night. If the link doesn’t work the song is ‘I love you, I’m sorry by gracie abrams!!

˙🏷️ ̟ Nagi’s masterlist | BLLK masterlist | Main masterlist

Nagi never really understood why you cared about him so much.

He never asked you to wake him up early just so he wouldn’t be late for practice. He never asked you to leave neatly packed meals on his kitchen counter because he thought it was too much of a hassle to eat. He never asked you to lace your fingers with his when you walked together, even though he never pulled away.

“You don’t have to do all this.” he told you once, watching as you set a steaming plate of food in front of him. “It looks like too much work.” You only laughed and then settled on a smile. And then sat beside him resting your chin in your palm. “I like doing it. Even if you don’t let me.” Nagi didn’t get it. He didn’t get you.

Maybe that’s why he never bothered to stop you.

He remembers how you’d always wait for him after practice, met with a “You did great today, Sei.” As you stood by the entrance of the training facility while shifting on your feet as the cold air bit at your fingers. “Oh. You waited.” he’d reply, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Why wouldn’t I?” He never understood that either, and honestly he didn’t know why he was trying to. It wasn’t like you got anything out of it. Walking home with him was just silence and dragging footsteps, but you never complained. You stayed beside him anyway.

One time he asked you outright. “Why do you bother doing all this for me?” You tilted your head at him as if the answer was obvious. “Because I care about you.” He frowned. “But why? There’s no point.” He didn’t know why he was asking, he could’ve just lift it at that. But something in him had him curious. Some sort of foreign feeling that for some reason couldn’t accept that as an answer. You smiled reaching out for his hand. Your fingers curled around his wrist. “Yes there is! I enjoy caring about you.”

He had no response to that.

The bell above the flower shop door jingles as he steps inside. The place has an aroma of earth, like petals just after it rains. His eyes scan over bouquets wrapped in delicate paper, and for the first time — he realizes how colorful flowers really are.

Just as colourful as you.

You always had this way of making things less dull. You always dragged him outside when all he wanted to do was lie around. You always tugged him towards places you found interesting. There was a new bakery in town? You’re going together. A festival popped up on campus? You would buy 2 tickets for the both of you. You made life seem less like of a hassle for him, even if he never actually realised it. As his thoughts wonder back to where he is, the shopkeeper asks him if he needs help. He shakes his head signaling a “no”, choosing a bouquet without really thinking.

As he exits the store, he remembers the first time you told him you loved him. One of the most significant memories he has of you. You were both lying on his couch, a comfortable silence settled between the both of you. The only sound being the faint hum of his phone as he scrolled through it lazily. You were staring at him, waiting.

“I love you, Seishiro.” He blinked, looking away from his screen. “Oh.” Your lips quirked up, but your eyes held something softer. “You don’t have to say it back,” you murmured; as if you already knew he wouldn’t. He didn’t. He just turned back to his phone, feeling a strange weight settle in his chest.

The walk is quiet and the wind is gentle, but Nagi shoves his free hand into his pocket with his shoulders tense, almost nervous. But regretful. Why?

Because he should’ve let you love him ages ago.

You had tried so hard, never wavering or asking for anything in return. He wonders why he never let himself love you back. He’s ready now, ready to reach for you instead of standing still. Ready to tell you how much you meant to him.

And as he finally arrives to his destination, standing nervously in front of you. The flowers feel heavy in his hands.

He stares down at the stone,

your name carved into it with care. He wonders how long it took for them to get it right. How many times they traced the letters, making sure it was perfect. The sky is a deep, hazy blue, the kind you always loved. He never cared much for the sky before. But now he stares at it for a long time, trying to see what you used to. He kneels down and places the bouquet in front of your gravestone. His fingers linger against the petals, hoping they’ll warm under his touch. He exhales softly, and his voice is quiet,

“I love you.” A pause. A breath. “I’m sorry.”

And now, since he never gave you the chance to love him, he had to suffer the consequences of loving you emptily, for the rest of eternity.

a/n : is emptily even a word idk, anyways! sorry..😞 you can cry on my shoulder.

[distracted-obsessions]

The urge to make a Whumpee based off of this coworker of mine...

[asinglesock]

survived my perilous journey (walked two blocks in the dark to shower at my sister's not-yet-entirely liveable apartment because our plumbing is having issues)

[yoohyeon]

Omg today was exhausting ( in a good way)

[chuluoyi]

my boyfriend will kick your ass !

- fushiguro megumi x reader

it's a date gone wrong when you get into an argument with your aloof boyfriend. but will he save you when it counts?

genre/warnings: tw. street harassment, catcalling. hurt/comfort, arguments and reconciliation, protective!megumi and fluff !

note: i miss my emo boi :(

general masterlist

“Stay back!”

This is an utter plot twist. When you came out of your apartment today, all dolled up and ready to go on a date with your boyfriend, you never imagined you’d end up cornered by two creeps in a deserted alley.

“Easy, girl,” one of the guys in front of you cackled, lips curling into an unsettling sneer. “We’re just trying to get to know you better!”

“Listen— My boyfriend is super scary, you know!” you barked, willing yourself not to shake. “Now you better not come any closer or else—!”

“Or else what?” the other creep mocked with a snort. You gripped your umbrella—now your makeshift weapon—tightly, pointing it at him as a threat.

“Or else my boyfriend will be here in any minute and he’ll kick your ass!”

It was a partly a lie you hoped sounded convincing, because how could Megumi suddenly show up and find you in this dingy alleyway... right after both of you had a petty disagreement in the middle of Shibuya's shopping district?

Oh lord, how you regretted raising your voice and running away from him earlier.

"You are late!" you scolded him heatedly as he yawned, showing up twenty minutes later than your agreed time. "Can't you at least text me beforehand? I'll match your time if you do!"

Megumi sighed, fixing you with a blank stare as he scratched his head. "My bad. I overslept. I rushed here so didn't think of it."

It was so easy for him to say, and you would've understood if it was the first time, but you had noticed this pattern over the past two weeks. Whenever you asked him out for dates, his face always soured, and he didn't bother to be on time. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was reluctantly agreeing.

And by this point, you thought you knew better and that was really it.

Finally, you blurted out the burning accusation: "You never realize it, but it shows, you know? You never seem happy when we go out together."

He exhaled in exasperation, green eyes darkening at you. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly that."

It seemed he had run out of patience. Standing your ground, you braced for his next words. But the glare he sent your way and the words he spat pierced your tender heart more than you thought—

"You're always nagging. Can't you stop being annoying just once? What a pain."

Perhaps he was right, you were annoying him all this time and dealing with you was a pain. You could imagine it if you were in his place, but you couldn't handle the very implication that you had done so, and you screamed at his face:

"So be it then! Fushiguro, you are the worst!"

—and ran off with tears in your eyes, deserting him altogether.

You knew you weren’t exactly a model of maturity, but in your defense, it stung deeply that he saw you as annoying and a pain. What girlfriend wouldn’t be hurt by that?

Anyhow, you loitered near the Shibuya station afterwards, and at first you heard some catcalls you didn't really pay mind to. But when those two guys started whistling and edging closer, it hit you—you were their target.

You quickened your pace, turning down several corners, only to find yourself trapped in a dead end. Just how much worse could your day get?

"Aha, the girl says she has a boyfriend!" Creep #1 snickered, turning to Creep #2 with a smirk, before pretending to scan the area. "But I don’t see him?"

"Miss, I swear we’re not up to any trouble," Creep #2 chimed in, his eyes gleaming with a predatory delight. "Won’t you be our friend? You’re too pretty to be alone—this is Shibuya, after all!" he said, eyeing your legs and whistled. "And ooh, have I told you that skirt suits you well?"

These guys were straight-up perverts!

"Get lost!" you yelled, your fingers trembling as you swung the umbrella at him when he tried to close the distance. "Can’t you just leave me alone?!"

You were at your wits' end, and it was clear this situation wasn’t going to improve with them still blocking your way. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart, and decided to do the only thing you could.

In hindsight, a stupid move—

You barreled towards the two of them with your umbrella—managing to push past them. For a moment, you thought you had a chance and ran as fast as you could—

"Ack!" —until you tripped and crashed on the ground.

You rose and immediately winced, looking down at the site where it hurt the most. Oh, you had scrapped your knees badly.

"Ahh, miss! Don't be too hasty~!" you heard the second guy's sing-song voice, and you really wanted to cry. Why did this have to happen to you?

"Don't come c-closer!" you stammered, backing away as they approached. Your whole body shook, desperately trying to think of ways to save yourself. "Or— I'll scream!"

"Whoa, whoa, wait just a minute! Why don't you just—"

You really thought you would scream, until suddenly the familiar scent of mint filled your sense and a strong arm pulled you from behind, and a broad back shielded your view from them—

"What do you need from her?" Megumi's voice boomed, his eyes glaring at the two men who had been harassing you. His breathing was ragged, as if he had run all the way here. "Fuck off."

At that moment, you couldn't help clutching his sleeve, hiding behind him further as you kept trembling. Megumi sensed it, and turned over to have a look over you—

You looked disheveled, spooked, and his eyes widened when he saw the blood trailing down both of your knees.

"Hey man, your girlfriend practically asked for it! Just look how she is dressed—"

Before you could process what was happening, Megumi had yanked the man by his collar and thrown a punch at him. You yelped and immediately got a hold of his arm to stop him further. "Megumi!"

The other guy quickly caught his friend, who spat out a string of curses, his lips bloodied from the punch.

"Fuck. Off." Megumi glowered at them, and they finally got the message, scurrying away in hurry. The moment they did, he faced you again and you finally let out a sob, throwing yourself into him. His body was warm, his heart pounding hard— yet it meant reassurance for you.

"Are you okay...?" his voice was noticeably softer as he wrapped his arms around you and returned the hug. "Did they touch you—?"

Megumi froze when he felt his chest dampen with your tears and heard your sniffles, your figure shaking like a leaf in his embrace. A wave of guilt washed over him, realizing how scared you must have been. Instinctively, he held you tighter.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry," he muttered, his breath warm against your ear. It was as if there was an invincible knife that twisted his chest when it dawned on him what you just got into. "I'm here now, okay? You're safe now."

If it weren’t for his harsh words earlier, you wouldn’t have run off. He kept shushing you, his own heart breaking at the turn of events.

And when you nodded against him, he knew he had to make it up to you somehow.

Later, Megumi tended to your minor injury while crouching down before you, as you sat on a bench near the convenience store where he had picked up the first aid kit.

Your eyes were swollen, your outfit was dirtied, but you ignored the curious looks from passersby. Still shaken, you kept your gaze fixed on your lap.

You recoiled when the disinfectant touched your torn skin, tears welling up again in your eyes. "Ow..."

"It'll hurt just a bit," Megumi looked up at you worriedly, seeing you struggling to hold back tears. He gently blew air on your wound. "It’ll be over soon."

Megumi noticed how you were uncharacteristically quiet. Between the two of you, you were the chatty one and he was the silent listener. But now, you were completely silent, and he knew it was definitely not a good sign.

And so he thought it was a good time to finally explain himself. With a sigh, he began. "I... was on back-to-back missions last week."

You glanced at him, both surprised and confused.

“I was so burnt out— that’s why I’ve been oversleeping lately. Sorry for not meeting you on time.” Megumi applied the ointment to your knees, and you stiffened from the sting. He blew air on them again to ease the discomfort.

"You never told me," you pointed out.

“Yeah, uh, sorry...” he winced. “It’s so... lame. I’ve been exhausted for a week straight whereas Itadori bounces back so easily. Stupid, I know.”

"You... didn't tell me because you don't want to look uncool?"

As soon as you worded it that way, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Megumi remained silent, looking down, and you knew that his silence was a definite yes.

Totally stupid. But exactly how Fushiguro Megumi was always wired. A part of you was exasperated, but also forgave him for it.

When he met your gaze again, he finally saw the light returning to your eyes. It was a relief to him, so he let out a small sigh and put on a strained smile.

"How did you find me anyway?" you asked quietly.

"You didn't pick up my calls. I was worried. And then I ran around until I heard your voice." His eyes narrowed into a frown. "Did they do anything to you?"

You shook your head, and Megumi let out the breath he had been holding, gripping your right hand in his. "I’m glad."

You brushed away the trace of tears on your cheeks as he finished applying band-aids to your knees, awkwardly fiddling with your fingers.

"Sorry for being annoying," you mumbled softly, not meeting his eyes, feeling yourself so small all of a sudden. "Will totally happen again though."

"You..." Unwittingly, he cracked a smile at your blatant remark. "Just... don’t run off again, dummy. Do it where I can see you."

He ruffled your hair gently, then intertwined your fingers with his. "And sorry... for getting mad at you too."

Your cheeks felt warm, so you looked away, puckering your lips together. "...I'm hurt. You have to make it up to me."

He hummed, the beginnings of a smile on his face. "Let's go have that shaved ice you’ve been craving then."

“Huh? You remembered! But you don’t like them?”

“You like that kind of sugar dump, don’t you?”

Hand-in-hand, both of you traversed the Shibuya shopping district together. Your eyes were still puffy, but you were smiling and talking his ears off again just like you always did.

“I told those pricks my boyfriend will definitely kick their asses,” you giggled to yourself, swinging your joined hands in joy. “And you really did~”

“What are you talking about…?”

Sometimes you were beyond his comprehension. Sometimes you were also cute beyond comparison.

And Megumi thought... he liked you the best this way.

[madamecaos]

Crush(ing) pt.2

Summary: Where Ghost goes a little too rough on you in training then makes up for it.

6k+ ish words │ Ghost (Simon Riley) x Y/N

Warning: Mature filth, probably depression

A/N: You know the drill, no proofread found here. (This is literally an experiment to fight head-on my perfectionism lol)

Part 1

Part 2

Johnny must have said something, you realized the next morning. There was no way the strict management would provide him a personal room without providing some sort of information of a necessity.

And the team was… nicer. You couldn’t explain nor figure out if Johnny had told all the details. Or at least some because no one looked at you with pity.

Training was the same, no sparring today, just some laps and some cardio-inducing sweat. You hadn’t seen Ghost anywhere yet, but something told you he wouldn’t go near you anytime soon. Despite this team being one of the most secretive amongst the military branches, it wouldn’t be excluded from a bureaucratic process if you were to accuse him of something.

Of what, you weren’t sure. You were angry, but you weren’t there yet.

Everything was… as if you weren’t just another ‘lad’ in the team. Soap greeted you with his usual jolly good morning, kept an ongoing conversation like usual, but he filled up your tray and carried it to your table. This was the first time someone had done that. Gaz offered to carry your gym bag back to your room. Price rescheduled a briefing on the intel, allowing you to have fun and explore the city, or whatever that meant without any sort of security to follow you around.

Odd, and confusing. You weren’t sure you were complaining at the sudden reprieve from military treatment, but you weren’t sure if you were comfortable with being treated like a child. As something fragile.

Whatever, your complaining could wait a few days. You wanted to get your hair done and get some coffee that didn’t taste like water and bitter mornings.

So you did, you went shopping for clothes that you weren’t sure about when and where you would wear. At the same time, you eyed the open-back blouses wistfully, a little part of you wishing that your life wasn’t so filled with bruises and scars.

But that was the job. You had to get by.

The taxi left you at the entrance, the driver not having the credentials to enter the base, but that was not a problem.

You couldn’t find your badge, the guard’s expectation making the rummaging of your purse more aggressive. And again, that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that, when the guard opened the gates, making you think that he had recognized you and would allow you in, Ghost was standing right smack at the middle as they parted, expecting you. He was as casual as yesterday, a long sleeve tee and the expected balaclava.

You returned his inquisitive stare for a few seconds, the handles of the shopping bags digging into your bruised-enough arms. The hot shower last night had helped tame down the swelling, but not enough to not to feel it.

Keeping that in mind, you walked forward with all intention to ignore him. As you neared-

‘Ma’am-“

“She’s with me,” Ghost said, not allowing any doubt in his tone. The guard, given Ghost’s no-nonsense attitude, didn’t argue. The guard had recognized you but was jut being difficult, surely.

“May I?” He asked as he matched your pace, the whirring of the gates closing behind you occupying the silence.

You faltered and cursed internally. So much for not being affected by him.

Without hesitation nor expecting an answer, he took your bags, and you couldn’t help but notice he avoided skin contact.

The walk to your room was tense. His footsteps were not as quiet as usual, which made you think he made noise on purpose, enough for you to be aware of how far behind he stayed.

Somehow that put you somewhat at ease, but not enough. Ghost being nice? Something was happening, you just didn’t know what, but at the same time you were done assuming things about him and what his actions meant.

“I’m in a different room.” You explained as you neared the corner of the hallway that used to be your bunk bed.

“I know,” he answered just as briefly.

From your peripheral, you eyed him. You returned your gaze forward immediately when you met his, as he was already looking at you. His eyes seemed to have more depth under the fluorescent lights, no horror nor worry to be found this time.

But they weren’t blank and unexpressive as usual. 

Eyes centered forward, you finally neared your room, eying warily the small cooler right by the door. When you opened your new room, you turned to ask for your bags.

You should’ve known this was a trick as he shouldered himself into what was supposed to be your safe space.

Tiny and cautious steps led you in as he placed the bags on the simple desk. You left the door open.

Then, he had the gall to point at the bed. “Sit.”

He turned back, and returned as he closed the door, now cooler in hand.

You stood frozen in the middle of the room. The frown that marred your face was enough for him to falter. You looked at the bed slowly, then back to him.

This room, away from the others, was all him. The room was far away from the people that knew there was tension between you two, and now he was demanding that you sat on the bed. There was no question as to what this might lead to.

You were no barrack bunny.

Your heart wanted to crawl up your throat.

“Please…” He showed his hands as a peace offering, placating. You were too in your head to notice the ice packs. He made another gesture towards the bed. “Cold helps swelling go down.”

You wanted to think that he genuinely wanted to help, but that tiny monstrous voice in the back of your mind told you he must want the bruises gone because they were proof enough of his brutality.

Intrusively, the dark thought developed. He must want a blank canvas to ruin again.

“You can barely see them now,” you said, knowing that your strong reprieve would loosen if you felt his hands on your skin.

He took a deep breath in, seeking patience at your resistance. “Right.”

Droplets hit the floor as the ice packs melted. When you realized he wouldn’t move, you sighed and took them from him. “Fine, I’ll do it myself.”

You sat on the corner of the bed and begrudgingly placed an ice pack beneath your shirt, the size of it barely covering the span of your shoulder. Thankfully, you were strong enough to hold in the hiss at the contact. “There, happy?”

“No,” he reached for more inside the cooler. “I know it’s not only your shoulder.”

He waited for you to act, but not patiently, that much you could tell, but he was smart enough to not push you. Instinctively, you held in an eyeroll and laid down on the bed, belly down. If this is what you had to do to get him out of here faster, then so be it.

Tentatively, he grasped the bottom of your shirt, avoiding skin. He managed to lift your shirt halfway, before it became troublesome for him to reach all the marks.

There was hesitation in his actions. The sure soldier now timid, uncertain, not knowing what was required. There was no way your clothes wouldn’t soak as the ice packs melted, and there was no way he could reach the bruises on your upper back without seeing.

He paused and you knew what he was asking of you, silently and unwearyingly. At least, he was smart enough not to make demands when you laid in this vulnerable position.

But, when you sat up and shed off your shirt and bra, he took a trembling breath as if he was the one being splayed open. Ghost looked away respectfully but caught the deep shades of blue and purple in the corner of his eye.

After shedding the only layer that covered your back, you laid belly down, pretending that you weren’t as nervous as him.

You expected clinical detachment from the man that had shown you only that, but as he sucked in a breath at the sight of your spine, you knew this was anything but.

Your arms pillowed your head as you faced the wall, concentrating on counting from one to ten as cold burned along the length of your spine.

Instinctively, you hissed when the cold packs reached a really sore mark that had been beneath the clasp of your bra all day.

“Easy,” he mumbled, deep voice doing nothing to help the rising goosebumps along your skin. “Going up now.”

He warned before you felt the branding of his fingertip, tenderly brushing away the hair from the nape of your neck. The shiver that racked through your body had nothing to do with the cold.

“Tickles,” you grumbled, burying your face further into the sheets.

“Yeah?” He mused gently, doing nothing to hide the fond undertone.

The voice inside your subconscious kept screaming that this meant nothing. That this was a soldier taking care of another. A weak link in the team meant repercussions.

The time passed in silence, and going against your instinct, you did nothing to fill it.

What could you say? That you mark easily? That it wasn’t his fault?

You said nothing, just like him. Thankfully, in the shadows of the sunset that bled into the room, you found yourself asleep before you had to face another awkward goodbye from the man that, surprisingly, felt something other than disdain for you.

--

This had been the offset routine for the last two days. And, for the first time in a while, you wished one of the terrorists reappeared for a whole other reason. This break had to end, or you would lose your mind.

“Easy,” he coached as he always did when he iced your back, as he’s been doing every night.  Only the phantom-like of his fingertips brushed against you as you hissed. “There we go.”

His hushed worry didn’t help.

The tension and the edging had you holding in the urge to squirm. The gnawing lust you felt for the man must be unnatural, and in the midst of your grudge, you thought he was doing this on purpose.

But, to your disbelief (and delight), he’s done nothing but be a gentleman inside and outside the bedroom.

During drills, he checked in often. Inconspicuous to your teammates, he let you off on not running the last lap. He also refused to let you spar with anyone “until you’ve recovered” he said once. The first day at training was fine, the second day you remembered why you were mad in the first place.

Despite doing the most in your mock fights, he didn’t believe you were strong for this job overall. The Lieutenant didn’t believe you were his equal.

But the third night you thought it over because, when the night was at its darkest, he visited your door, awaiting for entrance and a silent forgiveness for what he’d done.

When you removed your shirt, he looked away. He asked, checked and coddled you as he placed each icepack, never allowing his flesh to touch yours. Also, you weren’t going to pretend that he didn’t caress your hair away, being the opposite of methodical.

So you found yourself on the third night, laying belly down on the bed. The bruises were almost already gone, most yellow and transparent.

Part of you knew this was the last night he would do this, and part of you wondered if he would find another excuse to interact with you? Should you leave it up to chance and wait for him to act? Did he even want to? Or was this a one-time thing, a reprieve for the brutality he had put you through? That would mean that, when all wounds were healed, there was nothing else tying you two.

Maybe this was the last time you had the opportunity to speak with a semblance of privacy, outside of the norms of a soldier. This gave you enough bravery to do something different.

This time, as he was placing the last icepack on your upper back, you turned your head, now facing him.

If you weren’t so in tune with his movements, you wouldn’t have caught the slight falter as he pressed gently, right by your shoulder. Unintentionally, this was a sign that the dynamics had changed.

He didn’t have as much power as he thought, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. There was a conversation to be had, and he couldn’t bully nor punch himself through it.

Two days ago, you would’ve been furious at yourself for reading him so easily.

With no other space left to blanket your back, he leaned backwards, sighing heavily into his chair. At your ongoing stare, you dared to believe he looked defeated.

“The team is leaving in two days, 0800,” he started.

You merely blinked and his fingers twitched, fighting the urge to fidget.

He blinked back, the balaclava doing nothing to hide the tightening of his jaw. “Price has scheduled a briefing for tomorrow.”

“I heard.”

There was some information he wanted from you, but you weren’t sure what. The details mentioned were already rumors around the whole base, they were no secret.

After a pause, he looked around the barren barrack. “I haven’t heard of a request for transfer.”

“The Captain would be the only one privy to that information, would he not?”

He grunted in agreement. A long pause, then Ghost played again with the skin of his knuckles. What an odd time to notice that he hadn’t been wearing gloves this whole time.

“Just tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Don’t be difficult,” he snarked, baiting you for an answer in your usual anger, but you thought a lot about how you wanted this night to go. You laid placidly, feeling the ice melting against your back.

“More demands then,” you sighed, merely disappointed, cheek pillowed against your arm.

“Demands? You threaten to leave, and then I ask if you’ve requested a transfer-“

“That would imply that you, indeed, asked a question,” you said, gently as you kept staring at him, unexpressive. “The only question you’ve asked me since we’ve met is ‘are you dumb?’ three weeks ago while training.”

He went still and you waited for a refusal, an excuse that the military was no place for questions or politeness. He had been trained to take, follow orders and for others to do the same.

“You don’t ask.”

“I don’t… I only want to know if you’re leaving. After…”

-After he had to ice your back for several days straight after he didn’t know how to measure the severity of his strength. You were stealing one of his tactics, one that worked well with you. Allow the other to make the assumptions, fill the silence and reap the benefits.  

“Then ask.” You said, as if it was the most obvious thing. “What do you want to know, Lieutenant?”

In the dimmed lighting of your temporary reprieve, the silhouette of the man that had driven you near insanity moved and leaned in, elbows resting on his knees.

“Are you leaving?” he asked, lowly, as if it were a secret between you two.

You played along and tilted your head downwards minutely. His eyes followed the movement along as if he was starved for it. “Would you like me to?”

Just as gradually, he shook his head. The slow denial whilst holding your stare did something to you, enough to forgive that he hadn’t rebutted your leave with words. But, given the deep breaths he was taking, which might have been unnoticed for anyone else, you knew he was meticulously observing you, gauging you for your wants and needs.

You knew that look, the sudden shift. He was a soldier in a battlefield, a soldier with a mission. Ghost wanted you to stay and, right now, he was quietly asking what would get him exactly that.

“Anything else you wanted to ask me?” You asked, acting oblivious to his intensity.

You could play games too.

After a beat, still and unmoving, he shook your entire belief that he was cruel and uncaring. “Do you forgive me?”

Your breath stuttered, cool girl act failing, hardly hiding how those words affected you. Wide eyed, you stared and muttered dumbly a ‘what?’

While this night passed in the secret of your bedroom, you thought it would all be forgotten. Somehow, in your expertise as to what was Ghost, he was a man of action, not words. As you laid there, ice reddening the skin of your back, you believed that as soon as the bruises disappeared, nothing else would be mentioned. No words necessary. Transgressions would have never been declared again, and Ghost would’ve gone back to the cooly and indifferent Lieutenant you’ve come to known.

Asking for forgiveness and admitting fault felt like a whole other monster entirely.

At your silence, he leaned forward, allowing one knee to fall, then the other with a thud. The chair creaked at the movement as the man left the seat.

By your bedside, Ghost carefully knelt with hands splayed on his thighs. The bed wasn’t tall enough, so even kneeling, he had to hunch himself to keep eye contact with you. His eyes roved over your face, with thirst for any reaction that wasn’t hatred.

“Do you forgive me?” he asked again carefully, trying to get through your petrified form.

You merely blinked without words coming to mind, avoiding the burn behind your eyes. Along with a faltered breath, a shiver racked along the length of your spine, drawing his eyes to the goosebumps rising on your skin.

The ice had already melted, wetting the towel pinned beneath you. He had thought of everything.

Ghost returned his stared back to yours, finally catching the minuscule nod as an answer to his question.

He returned your nod with one of his own.

It seemed that the confirmation sprung him into action, like that was all he needed to hear. He stood and you did nothing else but lay there, immobile with your back exposed as he returned the melted ice packs to the cooler. Other nights, you had fallen asleep before he left, even with the cold covering your back.

You had often woken up with a towel-dried skin and the covers drawn up to your neck.

This time, you weren’t sure what to expect. Was this it? Now that you said yes, would it all go back to normal? Would he avoid you in the hallways and bark instructions in the battlefield?

The click of the cooler closing seemed to echo in the room and a sense of finality settled in.

You sat up, clutching the towel to your chest, doing the impossible to cover the shivers running through your body.

Despite his rapid movements to clean and organize every item he brought up, you knew he was running from the mere second he was vulnerable. There was no way this man had gotten on his knees before, not for anyone.

Given his braveness, you dared to ask the question that had plagued you since he stood up. “Is this it?”

No begging in your tone, no expectations. If he said he was done, you wouldn’t bring it up, wouldn’t claim nor believe he owed you anything, you decided. You weren’t also blind to the fact that he was always the one that set the tone for whatever sort of relationship you two had.

The man was always covered, always on guard, always a higher ranking, always more methodical.

And you already said what he needed to hear. There was no solid reason for him to come back.

“Are we… normal now?”

Ghost turned slowly, and you weren’t sure what he saw when he looked at you, but his intent gaze definitely brought you flashbacks. It wouldn’t be the first time he had looked at you like that after having access to your body, and then turn away and out of your life as if it meant nothing.

You had expected him to do the same as that night, the night where you found reprieve in each other’s bodies, then never spoke about it again.

Expectation kept you still, bracing for whatever nonchalant rejection came your way.

“You look at me as if you expect the worst from me,” he said as he turned towards the entrance, no hurry in his pace. His hand reached for the handle; cooler left behind at the desk. The lock clicked shut. “I aim to change that.”

You didn’t know what was more important, to breathe, to speak or to run.

He didn’t leave space for that as he headed towards you, expectation building at his leisurely pace. As if he had all the time in the world, he knelt again before you, eyes leveled with yours. This time, he was closer, enough for you to feel the heat through his clothing.

Hands that had known nothing but violence reached for your face, slowly but steady.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, something akin to worry in his tone. Thumbs caressed your cheeks as he held your face, searching for any reaction that might be against this.

“I’m cold,” you replied in barely a hush, shoulders caving at your vulnerable state.

Decidedly, you wanted to do the same. He saw the intention behind your actions as you gave him enough time to stop you.

Carefully, you reached forward, allowing the towel that covered your chest to drop, and rolled up the balaclava that had you spiraling over the last few missions.

Simon didn’t look down but searched for your eyes as you took in the face of the man that had plagued your dreams and nightmares.

You chuckled and he tensed.

“ ‘s not fair.”

His blonde eyebrows furrowed, distorting slightly the scar above his right eye.

“You can’t be buff and pretty,” you jested, eyes crinkling at the corners when you tried to hide your grin.

Uncharacteristically, he rolled his eyes and huffed at your joke. This made your smile widen, thinking about how expressive he really is as he was used to hiding behind a mask.

And you wanted to live in this moment, where you could appreciate every detail of his face, something that you’ve had the sole honor to see, but your anxiety was driving you wild.

You hated yourself for a moment, as he held your face fondly, for not being able to accept the present and wonder if this was a one time thing. After this night was done and he had proven he was more than pain and passion, would this tender moment live in your mind and your wishes for more.

It was sad but not unusual to expect crumbs.

As if sensing the shift in your mood, his head tilted, observing. Hands that radiated warmth drifted down to your neck, your shoulders then your hair as he caressed the wisps down your back.

“What is it?” he asked, low and worried.

The fact that he asked was monumental, but not enough to get you out of your spiraling.

“I’m not… I don’t expect anything,” you started, or tried to as the wide circles massaged into the tense muscles of your lower back served as a distraction. “But do I have to…”

His pinning and inquisitive stare had you stuttering and quivering.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I know but…” You dared to finally look back at him and asked meekly. “Do I have to pretend this never happened? Like last time.”

No answer from him, merely a sigh and you bit your tongue. You sat up straight with a mournful smile as he retreated his arms from your body and you crossed your arms across your chest.

He stood up and this time you expected him to leave, truly.

Instead, you got a, “turn around and take off your pants.”

He certainly could be blunt when he wanted to. At your confusion and furrowed eyebrows, he took the liberty to manhandle you into what he asked of you. With his hands on your hips, you stood with no space between you two. As you stared, he methodically undid your belt with a clink and unclasped your pants, then knelt, bringing your pants down with him. One hand behind your knee had you lifting your foot, then the other, leaving you in your underwear.

You kept looking down at him, asking silently what the hell got into him that had you standing in your underwear. The expression on his face dared you to say something.

Did he look like that every time you had been stubborn?

Without regrets, he turned you then pushed down on you, until you laid flat, belly down, similar to what you had been 10 minutes ago.

“You might be bipolar, has someone told you that?” You huffed, annoyed, about to use your arms to rest your head. That was until your wrists were taken, arms placed by your sides.

Then, the bed dipped with the weight of a full-grown man as he sat behind you, inches away from your thighs. Unlike the other nights, you expected an icepack to be placed carefully on your skin. Instead, you felt something liquid and cold after something clicked open.

You hadn’t even noticed he had caressed your hair away, leaving the span of your back exposed.

Then hands burrowed into your skin, massaging away the shocking cold from the lotion that sat innocently on your nightstand. Simon was now digging his thumbs into the knots of your back and the nape of your neck, ignoring the hisses you let at the pressure.

If this was the way he would act whenever you bombarded him with a vulnerable question, you might do it more often.

“No,” he said after a few minutes, your mind already drifting to a calmer place.

“No, no one’s told you you’re bipolar?”

“No,” he answered gruffly. “You’re not allowed to pretend this didn’t happen.”

You kept your eyes closed despite your surprise as the pressure of his hands drifted downwards, avoiding your underwear, heading directly to knead your legs, your calves. The proximity of his thumbs between the apex of your thighs had you squirming.

“If you do, I’ll have to find ways to make you remember.”

You barely held the groan when his thumbs dug away into the sole of your feet. If he noticed, he didn’t mention it.

“You be stubborn. I’ll keep finding ways to make you feel good.”

Despite your newly found relaxed state, you couldn’t fight the sensation pooling in your lower stomach. You might’ve drifted to sleep in this tender moment, but your mind kept wondering what else those hands could do. How much pressure could those thumbs do?

As he drifted upwards, he caught on your squirming, teasing gently as he kept massaging your thighs. Just as carefully, his fingertips brushed against the edge of your underwear.

“Need something, sweet girl?” He taunted but did nothing to hide the grave tone of his own lust. Not long after, his thumbs ‘accidently’ brushed against the cleft between your legs.

You bit your tongue, aiming to be stubborn and curious as to what he would do without guidance.

After he had enough, your underwear was tentatively pulled down to your feet. Then the hands that had been so through on relaxing you were now silently positioning you upwards to your parted knees, back arched as your torso laid placidly.

When he got you like he wanted, his fingers dug into your upper thighs for leverage, expecting you to run away. And that you did as a soft breath brushed against you before the slickness of a tongue delved into you.

You flinched instinctively at the sensation with a whimper, but he held you to him. He was no shy adventurer.

Simon had been teasing all night, and it seemed he was done playing games. His tongue, along with his lips, left nothing unexplored. His hands roamed along your flesh, issuing pressure to your lower back when needed to keep you arched enough for him. There were no tentative licks nor touches as he hummed into your folds, slick running down his chin.  

Thumbs splayed you open, and your whimpers rose into moans as he lapped at your clit with enough tension to make you gasp for breaths. Instinctively, you reached back, fingers latching into a full head of hair.

When you pulled, he moaned just as loud as you. That seemed to unravel him, his careful lapping now an intense suckling as he inserted one finger, then two. The hollow beneath your lower stomach now partially full. You were wet enough to accept whatever he had to give you.

When he dug down, aiming for your upper walls, you keened. He rubbed and rubbed, fingers so thick he had no problem hammering away into your g-spot repeatedly.

Now your moans were let out brazenly, gasping into the pillow as he did his best to burrow himself into your skin.

The shaking started on your calves, the tension rising upwards to your lower back. The sensation seemed to spur him on into a continuous pattern where he kept his mouth latched on you as your nerves coiled into and impending life-changing orgasm.

With a shock, your body spasmed with a silent scream, the soldier holding you tight through your tremors. Violent shock after shock racked through you until you managed to get some air in a keening moan. After seconds, Simon petting you lightly with his tongue and feeling every spasm, you laid back down placidly, all energy sucked out of you.

At the first flinch of overstimulation, he languidly let you go, barely letting his hands off your skin as he laid you flat on the bed.

He was out of breath too, but something told you it had more to do with the tent in his pants than lack of oxygen.

Owlishly, you looked back at him through the haze. As soon as he started petting your hair, you knew you lost whatever battle had been going on between you two.

Simon had done the impossible; proven he was going nowhere and that he was just as obsessed with you as you were with him.

And, as if nothing short of extraordinary had happened, his hands drifted lower to keep the ongoing massage as the remnants of your pleasured haze pulled you to sleep.

[msgexymunson]

The Ink Shop Part 2

Description: After your encounter with Eddie, things are beginning to get a bit more complicated; especially when you ask him for another little favour. But, will Eddie go for it? 

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI this ain't for you, angst, tiny bit of fluff, smut, fem oral receiving, male masturbation.

A/N: OK when I said this will be in 3 parts I lied, it's totally going to be at least 4, maybe 5! Thank you for the love you've shown the first part, it's incredible! You're superstars. 

❤️ If you like it please comment and reblog, it really makes my day!❤️

7k words 

Masterlist Part 1

For some reason, the shop seems more welcoming today than ever. It might be the fact that the sun is shining, it might be the radio seemingly playing all your favourite songs, or it might be last night. Either way, you feel loose and free, laughing at jokes, smiling at everyone, and genuinely just happier. 

Eddie saunters in thirty minutes late and you barely notice, apart from flashing him a bashful smile. 

“Well hello there sweetheart, you seem chipper today.”

You roll your eyes at the obvious insinuation, but your smile is warm. “I had a good night's sleep, that's all.” 

“Bet you did,” he grins, “you look real pretty.” 

Looking down, you consider your outfit; you'd decided enough of the corporate clothes, this is a tattoo shop after all. So, you'd paired a roll neck sweater with a short jean skirt and sneakers. A more relaxed outfit to go with a more relaxed attitude. Before you can say anything in reply he strolls over to his station. 

Right, so a few jabs, but he's being nonchalant. So put it out of your mind.

The morning moves quickly, a messy blur of clients and phone calls. After a fast lunch, the shop finally calms down a little. When you're focusing on sorting the mess of the heavy bookings tome in front of you, Eddie approaches, mischief glinting in his eyes. 

“I see London, I see France…” 

You follow his bowed head and cross your legs in sheer embarrassment, realising a sliver of your panties must be on display. 

“Eddie!” 

He simply laughs, throwing his head back far enough that your gaze drifts to his Adam's apple. 

“Sorry, I couldn't resist, I'm a big fan of this skirt,” he says, drinking you in with his eyes, “anyway I wanted to ask-” 

His sentence is stopped however by the loud ringing of the old corded phone. You and Eddie share a look, yours begging and his smug. Before you can grab it, he picks up the phone, putting on a ridiculous British accent. 

“Good Afternoon, London Underground Airways, this is your captain speaking- Oh shit Mac- Yeah she's- I know I'm not supposed to answer- Sorry I- Fine, here.” He brandishes the phone at you. 

“Hello? Oh, of course I'll let them know- I understand- It'd be my pleasure- see you soon.” replacing the receiver, you make a note on the pad at your side. 

“What'd he say?” Eddie asks, hovering over you. 

Not giving him the satisfaction of a look, you continue to make your note, however perfunctory it may be. “Mac's going to be a little late, he told me to tell his next client.” 

“He said my name, I heard it. What'd he say?” 

Placing your pen down with a loud click, you turn to him. 

You tell him as you smile smugly. “He told me to hit you for answering the phone.”

If anything, his grin grows broader. “Oh? Go on then princess, I'd hate for you to break the rules.” He turns his face, no doubt expecting a cuff to the back of the head.

Spinning on your stool, you slap him right across the cheek; not with all your strength, but certainly hard enough to remember. Eddie's face is a picture of shock, pink handprint already flushing his cheek. 

But that just makes his smile wider. 

“Harder.” He asks, eyes flashing arousal at you. 

“Eddie!” you shout, pushing him away, but his laugh echoes through the shop. Before he has a chance to continue, a burly biker type walks right in the door. 

“Good afternoon, can I help you?” 

“Yeah, It's Jimmy, I'm here for Mac?” 

“He's running a little late, but he'll be with you as soon as possible. Can I get you a coffee or something while you wait?” 

You can't help but hear a huff from Eddie, but before you can question it he's drawing in his book, entirely oblivious to the outside world. 

At the end of the day, you're tired, but still in fairly high spirits. It's the first time you've seen everyone in the shop at once. There's an edge to the air though, as if an expectation hangs over everyone. 

So… bar?” Mac asks in a defeated tone, although he's smiling. Everyone reacts; Eddie woops, pumping his fist, even the usually reserved Miranda is clapping quietly. You smile and nod, finally understanding what the atmosphere was about. 

As you all enter the dimly lit bar, chatting and laughing, you hear a low huff. 

“What did I do to deserve this?” John is standing behind the bar. An imposing figure, his arms crossed and face surly, but there's a kindness in his eyes. Mac leans straight over and hands him a card.  

“Easy John, I got this,” he chuckles. The card is accepted gratefully, the gruff demeanour lessening with the promise of payment. 

You accept a bottle of beer and slide into a nearby booth, the rest of the group filtering in. Mac walks over, eyes the space next to you, then grabs a stool to sit at the head of the table. It throws you for a minute; surely he knows he can sit there? Before you can tell him so, Eddie waltzes across the room with a tray of tequila shots and all the fixings with a cheeky look in his eyes. He slides right in next to you, tray and all, and places it on the table with exaggerated care. 

“Ladies, gentlemen.” He says, gesturing to the tiny glasses like an old timey butler. There's a succession of groans from the party, but despite this they all grab a shot. All except you. 

“I don't think I-” you begin, but he's waving a hand in the air. 

“Come on, you drink. It's a shot. Never had tequila before?” 

Fixing him with a sharp look, your cheeks begin to redden of their own accord. Eddie smirks and tosses his head back, hiding his eyes with one hand. 

“Shit princess, what did you do at college?” 

“Study.” You say primly, but take a glass tentatively and place it in front of you. 

“Right, so for the new guys…“ Eddie smiles right at you and licks his hand between his thumb and pointer finger. That hint of silver mesmerises you, the ball of his tongue piercing catching the light. It's almost sensual the way he does it, your eyes automatically following the movement of his tongue. “salt right here…” he sprinkles some on the spot he moistened, “then, lick, shoot, suck.” 

In a few fluid movements he licks the salt from his hand, downs the shot, and sticks a wedge of lime in his mouth. As your brain finally engages after that display, the little show that shouldn't have heated your insides up, you follow along, and take your shot with everyone else. It's easier than you would have thought, the lime easing the burn somewhat. 

Eddie squeezes your thigh under the table and whispers low enough for you to hear. 

“Good girl.” 

Shooting daggers with a simple look, he just smirks, leaving his hand on your bare leg as if challenging you. Dimly, you hear the echoes of a conversation in front of you; it's Julio, arguing about good tequila not needing salt and lime, but you're lost in the deep pools of Eddie's chocolate eyes.

For a moment, your body flashes red hot and you regret your choice of the high necked sweater. Tearing your eyes away you look at something, anything, but Eddie. 

The conversation drifts between all manner of subjects and you start to relax, the beer and tequila swimming in your belly loosening your tongue. It's nice, having a chance to chat and giggle with your coworkers in a setting not interrupted by the constant buzzing of tattoo machines. 

Julio and Chloe end up in a full scale argument about the karaoke machine in the corner. Before you're subjected to the horror of having to sing in public, you get up to grab another beer. Perching on a stool by the bar with your purse in hand, you're waiting patiently to be served. 

Eddie strolls over. You see him in your periphery; that confident walk as if he owns the very ground he walks on. Casually he hops up on the stool next to you, making no effort to hide the way he undresses you with his eyes. 

“Quit staring Eddie,” you say testily as you knock the bar with your bank card. 

“Now I can't look at you?” He asks with an amused grin. 

“I said quit staring, not quit looking,” you huff out. 

“What's the difference?” He asks, shrugging his shoulders and scrunching his nose at you.

You groan, turning on your stool to face him. “You are impossible,” 

He sticks his long tongue out childishly, flashing his piercing at you. 

Thankfully, John's voice cuts through the squabble. “What can I get you?”

“May I have a beer, please?” 

“You certainly may.” John cocks his thumb in your direction, addressing Eddie, “I like this one, she's polite. Don't scare her off.” 

Eddie dramatically holds his chest. “You wound me, sir!” 

Two beers are placed on the bar and John waves your card away. “Don't worry about it, Mac's treating you guys tonight.” 

As you swig your beer, you contemplate for a moment, trying to work out something.

“You're staring, sweetheart.” Eddie grins, as he gulps his drink. 

“I wasn't staring, I was thinking! I know that's a foreign concept to you.” It's catty, you know that, but he just seems to bring it out in you. No one else has annoyed you so much in your life just by… being. 

“That was rude. I thought we were playing nice?” he pouts playfully. 

“Sorry. I- Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure, shoot.” 

Turning to him, you speak what's on your mind. “Why do people get their tongues pierced? No one really sees it. I get like, nose and eyebrow piercings and stuff, but the tongue one I don't understand.” 

Eddie's grin is wide as he bites his bottom lip and stares at you. Well, you couldn't call it a grin. It's a flash of teeth, almost wolfish in its delivery. 

“Oh princess, you are too cute.” 

Staring at him with your brow furrowed, you try to work out what he means, but the longer you take, the more amused he looks. 

“What? What is it?” 

Sighing, he leans closer, the scent of aftershave, cigarettes and man clouding around you. “It's got a purpose, sweetheart.” 

“What, like, kissing?” 

Shaking his head, he looks you up and down. “Kinda. Kissing somewhere… specific.” 

Realisation breaks across your face, followed by a fierce blush that you can feel to the roots of your hair. Laughing, Eddie pulls away a little and takes a mouthful of beer. 

Voice an airy whisper, you lean over to him as you speak. “And girls like that?” 

His laugh is so loud it reverberates around the bar. 

“Yeah, a lot, in my experience.” 

“Oh.”

Well, the thought is there now, and you're pretty sure it won't ever go away, not without some sort of mind bleach. Eddie's head between your legs, his long tongue exploring your sex. The image is burned into the back of your brain, playing on a loop.

“You're looking a little hot there,” he says, as if he can read your thoughts. It's fair to say it wouldn't take a psychic to know what's rattling around your head right now. 

“I'm fine, this sweater is too warm,” you shake out, pressing your thighs together. 

“Liar.” 

Mouth opening and closing like a fish, you finally snap it shut with a crunch. Curiosity is eating away at you, and it's too easy to say what's on your mind after a couple of drinks. 

“Eddie, could you… tell me, what- what it's like?” 

He chuckles lightly and scoots closer to you. “you know I can't, I've not exactly had the pleasure.” 

“I know that, I mean…” 

For a second he just gapes at you. 

“Wait, princess, are you asking me to tell you or… show you?” 

Flustered, you turn away a little. “Sorry that's- that's too much isn't it. It's just you… did such a good job with the, you know, the other thing, I was just curious.” 

Eddie bites his lip, puffing out a little breath. “You know, flattery works with me. I did a good job, huh?” 

“Well, yeah. I can imagine you'd be really good at… that too. I could, owe you a favour?” It's bold, especially from you, but the way he's looking at you, the slight flush to his cheeks, you'd put money on him agreeing. 

Eddie stares at you incredulously. “Wait, you're saying you want me to stick my tongue in the holiest of holes and then you owe me a favour?” 

“Yeah? Like a little… arrangement.” 

He rubs his face with his hand, his voice muffled as he speaks. “I'd feel like I was taking advantage of you.” 

That confuses you for a moment. Surely you were the one who asked him? Hesitantly you reach out and touch soft fingertips to the back of his hand. 

“Please?” 

“Fuck.” He looks around, and turns to you, gazing into your eyes for a moment. 

“Fine. Right now.” 

“Oh I didn't-” 

“Listen, before I change my mind. Meet me out back. I'll tell the guys you're not feeling well and I'm taking you home.” 

Wordlessly, you grab your purse and head to the back door, heart hammering in your ears. It's a little dank out here, with the sound of a dripping pipe and moss covering the cement. Eddie comes out a moment later looking more serious than you've ever seen him. 

“You sure about this?” He asks, searching your eyes. 

‘Yeah, but…” you look around the small yard, gesturing vaguely. 

“Oh. Oh! You thought- oh Christ no, not here. I'm not a complete asshole. Come with me.”

Letting out a relieved breath, you follow him. He walks over to a gate in the fence and opens it, which leads down a narrow alleyway, a little shortcut between yards. That eventually opens up to another road with a couple of apartment blocks. The one he moves towards looks mostly clean, if a bit lifeless, with a creepy looking van parked out the front.

“This way sweetheart,” he says, leading you through the courtyard and to the stairs. 

For a second you stop in sheer surprise. 

“Wait, you live this close and you still manage to be late for work?” 

He chuckles, looking at you over his shoulder. “I have a condition, you know. Chronic tardiness; I'm afraid there's no cure.” 

You bat him on the arm playfully and he grasps your wrist, stopping on the stairs briefly, giving you a look that is wickedness personified. 

“If you're gonna hit me, do it properly.” 

“Eddie!” 

He laughs loud and grabs your hand, holding it in his until he reaches his door. That alone is enough to shut you up. It's warm and rough, and the feeling of his skin on yours, no matter how tiny, sends bolts of sensation through you. 

“Right, here is my castle,” he says as he opens the door and lets you inside. 

Chaos. That's the first word that crosses your mind. It doesn't look dirty, there's just things everywhere. A bookshelf stuffed with books and weird little trinkets placed any which way dominates one wall, and another on the other side with a huge music collection. There's a poky little kitchen with a couple of pots still in the sink, and a big couch with mismatched cushions takes up the remaining space. A tower of board games is precariously leaning next to it, and on the wall over the TV is an honest to goodness sword.

“It's nice,” you say as you walk in, as if you're not mentally organising it in your head. 

“You hate it.” He scoffs, pulling his boots off and dumping them by the door. 

“No, no, it's very… you.” 

“I stand by my previous statement.” He grins at you, clearly indicating he wasn't being entirely serious. 

“This is the bedroom.” He walks over and nudges the door open with his foot. Surprisingly, apart from an open clothes rail, an overflowing laundry hamper, and an enormous bed, there's not much in it. The wallpaper is a pretty purple colour, and looks oddly familiar. 

“Eddie isn't that the same wallpaper-” 

“-As the shop? Yeah. Mac let me have the leftovers. I was broke and this room was fucking pink.” 

You snort out a laugh; the thought of Eddie with a pretty pink bedroom was rather unbelievable.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I can live with purple.” He roots around and grabs a pair of sweats. “Make yourself comfortable, I'm gonna change real quick.” 

Then he walks out into another doorway, you assume the bathroom. The urge to snoop is real, but you resist. It looks like he spends less time here anyway. 

The question is, how comfortable are you supposed to make yourself? Nerves start settling in, the thought of what you've asked him to do is finally sinking its way into your mind and down your jangling spine. What if he doesn't like the underwear you're wearing? God, you've been at work all day, what if you smell bad? Or taste bad? What if- 

“You can sit down, princess.” 

Eddie saunters back in, shirtless, a pair of grey sweatpants hanging so low on his hips you see his cut groin. A little squeak hiccups out of your throat at the sight. You stay standing, ready to make your excuses and leave, but the signal hasn't reached your legs just yet. 

“What's wrong?” his eyes are brimming with concern as he steps toward you. 

“No I- I was- maybe this-” 

“Hey, look at me,” he says, grabbing both of your hands. You stare up at him, his face gentle. 

“Whatever you're worried about, I'm sure it's nothing.” 

“But i haven't showered-” 

“When did you last?” 

“Well… this morning.” 

“You're fine. Trust me.” 

He backs you up onto the bed, your knees folding as you flop down. The air around you feels full, humid with anticipation. He's so close, your bodies almost pressed together. 

“I wanna kiss you.” He says softly, stroking a lock of your hair out of your face. Heart leaping into your throat, you try to suppress the urge to lean forward. The last thing you need is to fall for this man. Chloe's words echo in your head; he's not boyfriend material.

He'll break your heart. 

“That's not part of our deal, Eddie.” 

A frown flickers across his face. It's just for a second, a flash of vulnerability, before his usual cocky smile returns. 

“That's not where I wanna kiss you.” He winks and tugs at your top, “can I take this off?” 

Nodding wordlessly, you help him and wriggle it up and over your head. 

“God damn.” Eddie props up on an elbow, running a finger between your breasts, before following the edge of your black cotton bra. 

He looks up at your face, grinning wide, and points at your neck; little purple marks adorn it. “That why you wore that sweater today?” 

Flushing crimson, you run fingers across your neck. 

“Yeah, you marked me Eddie. Not exactly discreet.” 

He chuckles, stroking the side of your neck. “Sorry sweetheart, I won't do it again. Well, not anywhere that anyone can see.” 

Heat floods your stomach, the stark realisation that you want him to mark you clings to your insides. If he notices your reaction he doesn't say, instead he leans toward you pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. 

“You're really pretty. I don't know if I said that before.” 

Awash with a new heat in your cheeks, you smile bashfully. “Thanks, I don't get told that very much.” 

Staring at you, he shakes his head.

“You should. You should be told every fucking day.” 

You open your mouth, but before you can reply he kisses your jaw, running his tongue down your neck, before he presses his mouth to the top of your breast, sucking roughly. A gasp flies out, and your hand makes a decision entirely on its own to grab his hair. 

It seems it was the right thing to do, judging by the deep groan that comes from him. It seems to spur him on, and he yanks the cup of your bra down, taking your nipple into his mouth. His tongue teases it, rubbing his piercing over the pebbled nub.

“Oh Holy fuck!” Back arching with the foreign sensation, you revel in it, wriggling underneath him. He smirks against your skin, and takes your nipple between his teeth. Moaning loudly, you pull his hair. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” He looks up at you, pupils blown to black, “can’t hold back if you do that.” 

It's not a dare, but it tastes like one, and before you can think you're tugging at it again. Eddie's eyes roll back, and a hard look crosses underneath his eyes. 

His actions turn a little feral, pulling you up so he can unhook your bra, practically ripping it off you before his mouth is all over your chest, firm fingers digging into the flesh of your hip. 

“Fuck, Eddie” you stutter it out, voice laced with need. 

“Yeah?” He whispers out breathlessly between urgent kisses, making his way down your stomach. Suddenly he takes the flesh of your hip in his mouth and bites down little before sucking a bruise as you writhe under him. 

He reaches your skirt, hooking fingers into the waistband as he looks up at you, his tone urgent. “Can I?” 

As you nod frantically, he reacts immediately, yanking it down along with your underwear. 

“Fuck, look at you.” 

The urge to close your legs is real, embarrassed at the way he's ogling you right between your thighs. They quiver with tension, but Eddie forces them open with his large palms. 

“Don't hide from me. You still want this?” 

You nod, and his head snaps up to look at you. His voice is hard, swirling around your insides with an intensity you're not used to from him. 

“Say it. You need to say it.” 

‘Yes, please Eddie.” 

That satisfies him. He leans forward, breath ghosting over your clit. You're waiting for his mouth, his tongue, but that's not what happens. He inhales you, nose so close it's almost touching your sex. 

“Jesus Christ, you smell so fucking good.” 

“Eddie!” you cry it out, cringing at his words as you bury your face in your hands. 

“Relax princess, it's a compliment.” 

Before you can retort that it's not a compliment, it's weird, and he's a freak for saying it, it no longer matters. He's licking a fat stripe up the length of your pussy, long tongue pushing against you hard in an animal-like gesture. 

The noise that expels from your chest is inhuman, a choked, guttural breath that belongs in a cave somewhere, not a bedroom. 

He doesn't relent, his mouth exploring every inch of you with a ferality that has you tingling all the way to your toes. His fierce movements, accentuated by the bump of his piercing, have you nearly leaving the mattress. You're not sure if you're trying to get more, or move away. Not that it matters. His hands are holding you so firmly that all you can do is wriggle helplessly like a fish on a line. 

Fingers trace the outside of your entrance before they slide in, beckoning your release. Whimpering, you grasp the bedsheets in a need to keep contact with something real. 

“Talk to me,” he says between mind numbing messy kisses to your clit, “good, yeah?” 

“Eddie, f-fuck, its incredible, please, oh God, k-keep going!” 

You can practically feel the smirk on his face as he dives back in, suckling at your clit with an unmatched fervour, his tongue piercing flicking expertly as he does so. Suddenly, you're not creeping toward your release, you're being hurtled toward it, thrown into the depths of absolute pleasure. 

Hands finding their way into Eddie's hair again, you hold on tight, buckling up for the ride. It's almost violent the way he pulls your climax from you, and you scream loudly, almost folding in half before you fall back onto the bed. 

Eddie sits up, hands placed on your thighs, as he grins proudly, face shining with your slick. 

“You OK princess?” 

OK doesn't seem to cover it. You're panting wildly, each breath shallow and ragged, brain melted into soup. 

“Think you can go again?” 

That gets your attention. You sit up, gaping at him. “Again?” 

Chuckling, he runs a finger up your slit and circles your clit in a teasing manner. The slight touch has your thighs trembling. 

“I think you've got at least one more in you.” 

Without a further word he presses his tongue against you. On instinct you grip his hair once more, bucking your hips up. 

“Fuck, that's it sweetheart, ride my face.” 

This time he slips his tongue inside as his nose nudges at your clit, the thick muscle curling and writhing. Holding on tight, your hips know what to do, your body reacting and rolling to meet him. 

You're yanking his hair hard as you grind against his face, pulling deep grunts and moans from him which vibrate inside of you. It feels primal, sheer need clouding your mind, a fog that rolls into every limb and leaves no part untouched. 

“Eddie, fuck!” You moan loudly as your walls clench around his tongue, another climax bubbling its way to the surface. He doubles down with his efforts almost as if he needs this as much as you do. 

With one final thrust of his tongue you whine out your orgasm, back finally touching the bed once more. There are no thoughts, only your heavy breath and beating heart keeping you in the moment. 

After a few seconds that seem to stretch on for a year, he hovers over your face. He's wiped off your release, but nothing could wipe that smug grin. 

“So? Good?” 

It's not like he doesn't know. You pat blindly at his arm, words stuck in a puddle on your tongue. In an unexpected tender gesture, he swipes his thumb over your chin, his gaze pensive. You stare back, fingers reaching out to gently touch his cheek. 

“Are you going to kiss me?” You whisper, the words pooling from you unbidden. 

For a split second you think he's going to lean in and close the gap, but he flashes his teeth at you and flicks the tip of your nose. 

“That's not part of the deal.” 

Disappointment leaks into your stomach. Which is entirely unfair. He's using your words after all. Fighting the feeling, you force a smile. 

“I think I'll need a wheelchair to get home.” You chuckle, indicating to your still twitching legs. 

“Stay here. I'll take the couch.” 

“Oh, no, Eddie, I couldn't kick you out of your own bed thats-” 

“Hey, it's fine, honestly. I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it.” He shrugs and rolls off the bed and onto his feet in one quick movement like a cat. “Here. If you want something to sleep in.” He hands you a faded t-shirt. Hesitating for a moment, your hand hovers over it, but he stuffs it into your grip. 

“Honestly, it's fine. I can drop you home before work so you can get changed and stuff. No big deal.” 

“What about your chronic tardiness?” You joke, smiling softly at him. 

“You're here, I'm sure you'll whip me into shape.” 

“You'd probably like that,” you tease. 

“More than you know.” He winks again, and walks to the doorway. “Night, princess.” 

“Night Eddie.” 

When he's gone you shrug the shirt on. It's clean, but there's an undercurrent of pure Eddie still there that's more comforting than you'll care to admit. Then, you lay there, staring at the ceiling. 

Well. You certainly weren't expecting to end up in Eddie's room, in his bed, but here you are. You're not sure what this all means just yet and processing it is just hurting your brain. A part of you is saying that you should get out now whilst you can. Another, louder part is telling you this is where you should be. The only problem: is this message coming from your heart, or much lower down? 

Chloe drifts into your mind whilst you lay there. Did they hook up in this bed? Are you in the same place she was? And how did that end? Clearly it was on good terms, considering how friendly they are, but how many girls have been where you are right now? A few? A dozen? A hundred?

After a while your thoughts just start to ache, leaving a migraine behind your eyes. Shifting on the bed, you try to get comfortable, but it's no use. You wonder if Eddie is still awake. After all, he's the only one that can answer your questions. 

Sitting up a little, you listen intently for any signs of life from the next room, but no matter how hard you strain your ears, you can't hear anything. 

As you quietly get up and creep to the door, you press your ear to it. Maybe that was a word you heard, a loud breath, or the signs of an overactive imagination. Turning the doorknob like a safecracker, you inch the door open ever so slightly to peek beyond. 

There he is, laying on the couch, eyes tight shut and face contorted in concentration. Odd. You slowly guide the door open a little more and your eyes nearly bug out of your head. 

Eddie's laying there, hand down his sweats, tugging at himself like there's no tomorrow.

You almost cry out in shock but manage to swallow the noise just in time. For what feels like a full minute you stand and stare, mouth gaping open. It's like you're hypnotised, unable to tear away from his urgent movements. 

A particularly good stroke has him bucking into his hand, and he lets out this strained whimper that shoots directly between your legs. 

Right, stop. This is wrong. How would you feel if he caught you? …OK, bad example. 

Reluctantly, you close the door again as quietly as you can before climbing back into his bed to stare at the ceiling once more. 

It looks like it's going to be a long night. 

********************

“You look really great,” Chloe says as she strolls into the shop, handing you a coffee, “like, happier, more relaxed.” 

It's a few days after your impromptu sleepover at Eddie's place, and she's absolutely right. You do look more relaxed, even you've noticed the change. There's more confidence in you, and a smile that was once a little forced is warm and genuine. 

“Thanks, I think I'm getting more comfortable here.” It's not a lie, exactly, but it's certainly not the whole truth. 

“Good, glad to hear it!” She beams at you and heads to her table. 

The bell over the door chimes once again startling you. Miranda and Mac are already here and it couldn't possibly be Eddie this early. 

“Um… Hi.” A gangly youth walks in, all arms and legs and bright blonde hair. He shuffles over to the counter awkwardly. 

“Morning, can I help you?” 

“Y-yeah, you do walk-ins today, right?” He asks, brandishing a crumpled flyer at you. 

Face lighting up, you fix your best smile. 

“Why yes we do, it's walk-in Wednesday. It's a little early though. Can I see some ID? 

He hands it over. The guy's freshly 21 and knows it, puffing out his little pigeon chest with pride. 

“Excellent. It's about 10 minutes until we open, but Miranda will be with you. Miranda, you got a book for this guy?” 

Confusion paints Mirandas's face, but then she smiles. 

“A walk in? Wow.” She strolls over and hands him her portfolio of designs, introducing herself. 

When Eddie finally turns up, there's another guy waiting. 

“You're not my 10:30.” 

The poor boy looks at him nervously like he did something wrong. 

“Eddie, he's a walk-in.” Mac says, calling over his shoulder. 

Eddie smirks at you and leans over the counter. 

“Well well, bet you're happy. Atta girl.” 

Blushing profusely, you move to tap him on the arm in warning, but he grabs your hand and kisses it. Heat flies straight to your belly at the gesture.

“Let me know when my 10:30 is here, alright sweetheart?” 

He's still holding your hand, brushing his fingers over your knuckles. Weakly you nod, gazing at him as your toes curl in your shoes. 

Shooting you a wink, he ambles over to his station as you watch him, eyes drawn to the way he moves. 

There's three more clients asking about Wednesdays; granted, one didn't have an ID, but the other two were seen and inked, and one even booked a follow up with Miranda. 

Buzzing with job satisfaction, you're grinning when you nip to the restroom, walking through the narrow corridor. As you exit, you're immediately accosted by Eddie. He stands close, a hand loosely holding your wrist to keep you there as he bends to whisper in your ear. 

“Now, you're not supposed to touch fine art, but someone's gotta pin you against the wall and nail you right.” 

“Eddie!” You whisper shout at him, only serving to make him chuckle low in his throat. 

“Sorry, couldn't resist. I have an idea, for that favour you owe me?” 

Body tensing of its own accord, you look up at him, your cheeks flushed and mouth slightly parted. Before you can ask what it is, a voice cuts through the tension. 

“Hey, keep it at home guys.” 

Mac's standing at the other end of the corridor with his arms crossed, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Pursing your lips, you wriggle from Eddie's grip. 

“It's not what it looks like Mac, I promise.” You say, shouldering past Eddie. 

“Come on sweetheart, don't get all shy on me now!” He shouts, walking after you.

You ignore him, giving Mac an apologetic look, and sit back down at the counter. God, that was embarrassing. Seems like professional and discreet are out the window. 

“So, as I was saying-” 

“Eddie, stop, not now.” you say, cheeks bright red. 

“I was only-” 

“Eddie please! I don't want to get into trouble!” 

Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes, but backs off finally. 

You make a very clear point of being busy until the rest of the day, completing any ad hoc tasks you can think of. Tidying the stock cupboards, refreshing the consent sheets, and even organising the sparse counter. Anything to avoid further comment from Mac. 

When six rolls around you turn to talk to Eddie, but he's already leaving without a glance at you. 

Sighing, you make your way outside and home, trying to ignore the little sting in your chest. 

********************

It's Saturday before you see him again. Your day off was mostly spent worrying about how you upset him and thinking about everything you could have done differently. 

By the morning you're an emotional wreck, anxiety having done her job and left you a bubbling mass of maybes. When Eddie storms in the shop with a proverbial rain cloud over his head your heart pangs in your chest. 

He's such a big character, and you didn't realise until now the influence this has on this place. Usually he's energetic and upbeat; however, with this melancholy energy coming from him, everyone seems to stoop a little more, eyes a touch downcast, movements more shuffled and broken. It's like a black hole has descended on the shop, pulling joy from your soul and sucking everything into its gravity.

The tattoo shop is quiet for a Saturday. Not from lack of customers; it's just a more hushed and sullen atmosphere. By the afternoon you decide enough is enough and you grab Eddie's arm between clients.

“Eddie, can I talk to you?” 

He gets up, stretching his back in a feline movement, and walks with you slowly to the stockroom. 

“Listen, I'm really sorry about what happened on Wednesday, I didn't want to upset you and I can't stand seeing you like this and-” 

“Woah, sweetheart, slow down. You been worrying? About me?” He tilts his head, giving you a small lopsided smile. 

“Yeah? I thought you were mad at me.” You mumble out. 

“Oh, princess, come here.” He wraps you in his arms, holding your head close to his chest. A relieved breath puffs from your chest as you melt into the hug. 

“That's not what I'm upset about, I promise.” 

You pull from the embrace to look at him, a hopeful smile tugging at your lips. 

“Really?” 

Stroking your cheek softly, he presses his lips together. “You're adorable,” he moves his hand away and starts waving his arm about as he tells you what's wrong. 

“You know I'm in a band? Well we've got this regular gig at Hatters, which is great and all, but I found out they're looking for more bands at The Pit. That big rock club on Main? I've been trying to get hold of the damn owner but he's ignoring all my calls and I'm pissed off.” 

Grinning, you grab his arm. “Eddie, I can totally help you with that.” 

His gaze is soft and warm as he asks “Really? You'd do that for me?” 

“Of course I would. You got their number?” 

He digs around in his pocket and passes you a wedge of shiny paper. Unfolding it, you look at the details, smiling even wider when you see they're attempting a ladies night. There's a telephone number at the bottom, the contact listed as William. 

“I gotta idea. Just roll with it, OK?” 

He looks confused but nods at you. Skipping to the counter, you pick up the phone and dial the number. When it's answered by a young woman, you speak with a nasal voice, sounding almost bored. 

“Is Bill there?- Tell him it's Barb- oh trust me he's gonna wanna take this call honey.” 

Eddie's staring at you with an amused expression; you look back at him, flashing a smile while you wait. 

“Bill! How long has it been! Oh, don't say you don't remember me… oh, you do!- I'm good, I'm good- I'm managing this band, yeah, you've gotta book them- Corroded Coffin- yeah, yeah- They are hot right now, selling out their shows- look I know you're struggling getting the ladies in, but that's about to change. Their lead singer is-  well lemme tell you, if I were a younger woman- haha yes, sounds great! Next Saturday?- Nine- Great stuff- I'll speak to you soon.” 

Placing the phone down with a little click, you cross your legs and look at Eddie smugly. 

His jaw may as well be on the floor, eyebrows so high that he resembles a cartoon character. 

“Barb? Selling out their shows? If I were a younger woman? Where the fuck did that come from?” 

You giggle, “I thought he'd listen if he thought I was a business connection. I took a shot, a little bullshit can take you far.” 

He swoops over to you and grabs you in his arms, lifting you bodily from your seat and swinging you around as you squeal helplessly. 

“Saturday? Not even midweek? Princess I owe you big time.” 

“Eddie I already owe-” 

He's not listening, running over to Mac and bouncing on the spot like a child. “Mac, Mac, did you hear? I'm playing at The Pit!!” 

You watch as he explains what just happened; he's so animated, gesticulating wildly as loose locks of hair fly from his bun. Mac beams at him and hugs him in a fatherly motion before Eddie springs back over to you. 

“Who the fuck is Barb?”

“I dunno, she sounded worldly.” 

He grins, shaking his head, “I can't believe you lied for me. You seem… different lately. More confident. It suits you.” 

Blushing, you thank him. For a second you stare at each other, both lost in the other. 

Eddie shakes his head, and looks at the time. 

“Fuck, right, I got 20 minutes, I'll be back!” He grabs his coat and runs out of the shop shouting “personal errand!” 

Chuckling, you sit back down at the counter. Mac approaches, smiling softly. 

“You did good Miss, he's really happy.” 

“Thanks, I couldn't bear the sulking.” 

He laughs and touches your shoulder, “he cares about you. In case you didn't notice.” 

He walks away nonchalantly as if he didn't just drop a bomb at your feet. Eddie cares about you? You're still pondering it when he returns a half hour later looking sweaty and dishevelled. 

“Princess, I got you a present,” he whispers, brandishing a nondescript black bag at you. You peek inside and shut it immediately. 

“Eddie what the fuck!” You whisper, face flooding with blood at the sight as you hide it under the counter. There's a sex toy in the bag, well at least one, but you were so shocked at the sight you didn't get a good look. 

He chuckles and leans in close. “Thought you'd like it.” 

“Eddie I don't know how to- to use this stuff,” you mumble quietly, looking around to make sure no one's listening. 

He smirks at you in response.

“You free tonight? I can show you.” 

Taglist

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[writersblog20]

Sick baby🍒

Neighbor!Joel Miller x reader 

Credits to the very talented : @a7estrellas 🫶🫶

Summary: When sickness catches you and you seemed to be doomed to take care of yourself, your hot older neighbor is going to make sure you get better.  (Lots of fluff and comfort)

Warnings: age-gap (Age of reader isn't classified but is in mid 20s). Mention of neglect and ptsd but NO details of traumatic events in itself. Sickness and hints to anxiety. Pet names like: baby girl, sweetheart, princess etc.  I'm sorry if I missed anything else.  

Words: 3.1K (I could've made this shorter, but I didn't) 

A/N: Hi.... So, I'm back? Sort of? Anyhow, here's a soft fic after 2 (or 3?) years of hiatus. I'm not dead just anxious and traumatized but I'm trying to get back to writing again! Please take it easy because I've been out of training. Anyway, I want to try to write about Hugh Jackman as well! So get ready for that, but also give me a second hahaha. I hope Youa'll are doing good!  

Sick baby 

It all started with a throbbing headache and the feeling of thorns in your throat. You groaned which made get an entire cough attack. You wiped the tears away from your eyes from coughing so violently. You felt exhausted and sick. It was in fact, that time of the year again for getting a cold.  

You made your way downstairs to make some tea. You looked into the cabinets for some honey but groaned when you remembered you had to do some grocery shopping today. The thought of having to go out of your house made you want to cry. You felt emotional, horrible, weak and sick. You just wanted to curl up in bed and someone to take care of you but that wasn't happening anytime soon.  

You heard the car door closing outside and it caught your attention, as it always would when he would arrive home. Your insanely hot, sweet and older neighbour, Joel Miller. You had a huge crush on him since you moved into your new home, and he helped you with your moving boxes as he saw you struggling. A couple of days later, when you got all settled, you made him some muffins as a toking of gratitude, and he invited you in to have a cup of tea.  

It didn't take much to get a crush on your older neighbour. He was incredibly handsome, sweet and you had a thing for older men, and he just made you turn into a complete puddle every time. He seemed to notice that you got flustered and shy around him and he absolutely loved it, which he made it now a mission to get you shy and flustered around him. It made his chest feel all warm and fluffy, something he hadn't felt in years that it turned him in a grumpy old man. Except, you made him feel happy and fuzzy inside. He would never admit it, but it was true. He was so very intrigued by you. For him, you were a sunshine even though you were alone a lot of the time, he saw you as someone very special for your age. He caught you more times, watching old movies. Like 1925 and 1950 old movies. Or when you caught you walking to your front door with new records in your arms. The times he caught you outside on your own porch, completely indulged in your book that you were reading at the time, a cup of tea next to you, a blanket over your lap as the rain hit the roof.  

He caught him staring at you so many times. Joel was a difficult and sometimes troubled man but when he looked at you, he found peace and serenity. The kind that he had been looking for his whole life, and now that it was in front of him, it scared him deeply. But no matter how hard he fought that feeling and wanted to keep a distance between the two of you, he found himself even closer to you. There was one thing he noticed, you were alone for most of the time, and it made him curious.  

One night, when the two of you had a beer on his front porch, he asked you why and how you were able to move into a home already at your age, hoping by asking you that question, he would get to know why you were alone a lot. You told him that you would tell the part of why another time and went straight to the how. He figured it wasn't a nice story and it wasn't. Let's just say for now that you didn't have a relationship with your parents and that it truly was for your own good. You had to leave your parents' home for your own safety.  

One evening, you stood in front of his door, soaking wet by the rain, and tears streaming down your cheeks. It left a hole in his chest seeing you like that and he felt instant rage, knowing that someone was the cause of how you felt. The moment he saw you, the features on his face showed deep concern as he pulled you into a tight hug as an impulse. When he opened the door and saw you like that, he had an overwhelming feeling to protect you. He pulled you inside carefully as he shushed you softly. His hand on the back of your head as he carefully tucked your head against his chest. He placed multiple kissed on the top of your head.  

You told him about the altercation that you had with your father. That was the moment you told him everything. You babbled so much that you struggled to get through your own words. “C'me here sweetheart.” he told you, held your hand and let you to the kitchen. He lifted you up on the counter and set you down while he quickly made some tea. Your make-up was all over your face and he got a soft cloth, made it wet and gently wiped it over your face to get the remains of your make-up and tears away. The soft look that was on his face, made your lip wobble again and gave you new tears on your cheeks. Joel looked into your eyes and his eyes softened even more as his heart broke for you. “Oh, baby girl...” The softness by a man and the feeling of safety and how secure and taken care of you felt, was new to you and it brought you to a completely new breakdown. Joel pulled you in a hug again and tucked your face into his neck. Even though you were on the counter, Joel was still taller than you. It was at that point that you've started to became emotionally attached to Joel.  

~~~~~~~`~~ 

You looked out of the window and thought about asking Joel if he could go to the store for you, but you felt so fatigue that you couldn't master up the courage to ask him, knowing that you would be too shy right now. Yes, you've shared that intimate moment together but since that night, your crush turned into love. You were head over heels for your neighbour.  

You sighed, which got you into another coughing attack. “Fine” You grumbled and heard that you had almost no voice left. You nose started to run and you knew that it would be better if you went to the store now before it got worse. 

You quickly went upstairs and got your oversized hoodie and sweatpants, throwing them on, brushed your teeth, cleaned your face and quickly did your hair. You noticed that you looked horrible, and a wave of warmth came over you. “A fever? Already?” you sighed and quickly got your stuff to go to the store.  

You got all the groceries you needed and headed home. You got so many extra things to make this cold disappear as soon as possible.  Once you got home you tried to get your bags out of the car, but you felt a hot wave go over you again, started to get dizzy and felt so weak that you couldn't even lift the stupid bags out of the car. You were already out of breath, and you started to mutter curse words in yourself.  Your vision started to get warry and black and you had to hold yourself to the car 

“Woa, take it easy baby girl.” Joel ran to your aid and held you, looking worryingly at your face. You held onto Joel now and slowly started to get your vision back but with a major headache... A migraine. “God fucking dammit...” you muttered, and Joel looked a bit in surprise at you. He never heard you curse before. “You okay there baby doll?” You held your palm to your head and groaned. “I'm sick” you spoke up louder and he was finally able to hear your voice correctly. Without saying anything he held his hand to your forehead, feeling how warm you were.  

“Let's put your things inside and get what you need but you're coming with me after. You're burning up.” he told you and got your stuff out of your car. You felt your heart skip a beat from nerves. “I ehm...” Joel ignored you and got your stuff. You wanted to get one bag out of his hands to help but he shot daggers at you for even thinking about getting a bag out of his hands.... ever.  You quickly looked down as if you were in trouble and Joels look softened and got your hand in his. “You're too good for this world princess.” he remarked and helped you towards your house.  

You unlocked the door and Joel hinted for you to get in first. He made his way to your kitchen and unpacked your stuff, putting it away and keeping the things, he figured were for the cold, in the bag so he could take it with him to his house and nurse you back to health. You were shuffling on your feet and Joel looked up. It was pretty clear that you felt uncomfortable and not really knowing what to do. It wasn't Joel that made you feel uncomfortable but more because you weren't allowed to help and you felt like a burden.  

“Why don't you get the stuff that you want ready, and we can head back to mine in a minute.” he proposed softly. You nodded, giving in silently. You made your way upstairs and gathered some stuff, but you felt so exhausted and out of breath that you sat down for a moment. You felt so terrible that the tears started to gather in your eyes. Your head and mind were so preoccupied that you didn't hear Joel. He softly knocked at your door, scaring you a bit. You quickly wiped away your tears, even though he'd seen you cry before.  

Joels gaze was so full of care and gentleness at that point that you couldn't stop crying right now. “What's wrong sweetheart?” he carefully kneeled before you, holding your hand and his other hand stroked your hair. “I don't want to burden you, Joel. Or take up too much space, change your schedule and stuff. I’ll be alright by myself.” you told him, but you couldn't even convince yourself of that right now.  Joels hand that stroked your hair, went gently over your cheek and his thumb and finger held your chin and made you look at him. “Princess, you will never be a burden to me, at all. I like your presence around me. Sick or not. You'll never take up too much space and you are allowed to be yourself around me. I want you to feel safe, secure, comfortable, loved and adored enough to be yourself around me. I know it's difficult for you, with what you've been through, but I promise you, I'll never let anyone hurt you again. Let me teach you what it's like to be cared about and loved.  I want you to be with me so I can take care of you, and I promise you, you'll never be a burden to me. Let me take care of you right now baby girl. You deserve it. And secretly I know that you really want to right now.” he playfully told you and gently poked your side.  

You couldn't help but smile a bit. “Okay...” was all could say right now, and it was more than enough for Joel as he got a big grin. “Let me help you pack up sweetheart. And if you need more stuff, I can always walk back.” he told you and kissed your forehead. He asked you where your pj's were and put it in your bag, with your toothbrush and all the necessities for now. Joel already chose to give you his hoodies for when you got cold. It was easier, so he didn't have to take much with him but the biggest reason was so he could see you in a hoodie and sweatpants that were his. He saw your book at your night cabinet and got it in the bag as well. “You need anything else princess? If we forgot something, I could get it in a second, that's no problem.” He told you convincingly. “I think we're good.” Joel hummed in satisfaction and gently helped you stand up and helped you down the stairs.  

He got your grocery bag, your keys and locked your door. When you got into his house, he placed the grocery bag on the floor for a second and helped you up the stairs towards his bedroom. You felt butterflies in your stomach seen you've never been upstairs before. 

“Don't worry, I changed the sheets this morning.” he told you but honestly, you wouldn't have mind if he didn't. He placed you gently on his bed and you looked around for a bit. “Why don't you take a shower to freshen up a bit and I'll get you some tea and fruit when you're done, hmh?”  You nodded and he showed you the bathroom. “I'll get you some towels and your pjs.” he told you and you nodded, looking around for a bit and feeling out of place.  

When Joel came back, he flashed you a comforting smile “Yell if you need anything or when you need help sweetheart.” he told you and you smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Joel.” you told him and he smiled, closing the door.  

After your warm shower, you felt exhausted and wanted to sleep. You got into your pj's and crawled into Joels bed. You snuggled into the pillows and pulled the sheets up to your chin, getting comfortable. It still smelled like Joel, giving a comforting and safe feeling. Like you were finally able to relax and be taken care of for once. You closed your eyes and gave into the tired feeling. 

You didn't know how much time had passed but you were awakened by Joel stroking your hair softly. “Hi baby girl, I made you some tea and some fresh fruit. You can continue sleeping if you eat and drink something.” he told you softly and sweetly as he sat beside you on the bed. You nodded, getting up. Joel adjusted the pillows behind you and walked around the other side of the bed and sat next to you, handing the tray with the fruit, tea, water and painkillers. “Thank you, Joel. I mean it. This means a lot to me.” Joel couldn't help but smile almost proudly. He gave you a kiss on your forehead. “Thank YOU, for letting me take care of you, and trusting me. That means a lot to me as well.”  

You started to feel a bit more comfortable and slowly finished the food he gave you. Joel handed you the tv remote with a wink and you searched something to watch on it. Joel got up to put the tray away but you were quick to take his arm. “Please, stay with me.” Joel melted by your big puppy eyes and smiled “I'll be right back baby girl.” you were content with his reaction and let go of him.  

Joel was as fast as lightning at that moment because he was back in a blink of an eye. He got next to you again and made himself comfortable before hinting to cuddle with him. Your heart was filled to the brink with love. Your head was on his chest and you grabbed onto his shirt before making yourself comfortable. Your eyes started to feel heavy while Joel softly massaged your head. His breathing and heartbeat calmed you down “It's okay baby girl, you're safe here. Get some sleep.” He whispered and in response you snuggled even closer to him and gave into the much-needed sleep.  

~~~~~ 

When you woke up, Joel was gone and with that, it left a sort of emptiness in your heart for a second. The tv was still on with the sound softly echoing through the room. You heard some pans clink together downstairs and you felt at ease, knowing Joel was close by. You sniffled your nose and hid underneath the blankets again from the cold. You heard the rain violently hitting the roof as it covered the sound coming from the tv.  

30 minutes later, Joel came upstairs and you peeked a bit from the covers, looking at him. He smiled warmly at you. “I made you some soup. I promise you, this will get you back on your feet.” he told you with a proud smile on his face as he gave you the tray with the soup. You saw that he had, once again, cut some fresh fruit for you, had a bottle of water and some lemon tea with honey. You smiled shyly “Thank you Joel.” He sat down next to you. “I missed you when I woke up.” you told him honestly without really thinking. Joel smiled proudly again and his cheeks changed in a pink color. “Well, I'm glad you did” the realization of what you had said, kicked in and you felt your cheeks heat up and immediately turned shy again. Joel noticed, and knew it wasn't the time to joke around right now. “But don't worry, I won't go anywhere, princess.” He interlinked your fingers through his and placed a kiss on the back of your hand. You leaned more against Joel in response, not really knowing what to say, so you tried to show his through getting closer and luckily, Joel picked up immediately on them and let out a gravel chuckle.  

“You stay here as long as you need. Even when you're better. Or when you feel like shit, you can always come here. See it as your second home, doll. You're always welcome here, and.... I really like you here.” He looked at you and for the first time, you could see Joel a bit nervous as he confessed to you. “I really like it here too. But only because of you...” You shyly admit, hoping he would catch on what you said, which, of course he did. “Same here, princess.” he gave you lingering kiss on your forehead, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. “I'll make sure you're better soon, baby girl. But for now, what old classic movie do you want to watch?” he asked you with a smile, making you giggle.  

You were down bad for this man but in the end, you were very glad and happy that it was this man.  

[jesswritesthat]

Bakugō Katsuki: Class

Fandom: BNHA // MHA — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: ~1.4k, fluff

• Teaching your class at U.A. was an amazing experience but that’s because they don’t know who you’re dating. Until they find out that is.

Warnings: Post time skip spoilers, cursing

>>>>——————————>

You stared at them with a deadpan expression, one that the ever devoted Class 2-A had grown accustomed to over the past year that they'd experienced with you as their Homeroom teacher.

"I told you. I'm retired."

"We know (L/n)-Sensei, but you're like only in your twenties." One of them argued, brow raised in confusion.

"So is Midoriya-Sensei." Now part of you wanted to mutter an additional 'but not for long', however that wasn't your surprise to deliver.

"Different circumstances. You could still do the whole hero gig, especially since you're well trained enough to kick all of our butts without breaking a sweat." Another stood from their desk to contribute rather eagerly.

"Trust me, I have enough of the hero business to deal with once I get home."

———

Of course, they'd never be able to comprehend such a topic when they had no idea you were in a relationship with the number fifteen hero himself, Bakugō Katsuki. You'd hear the villainous tales, the torturous reporters, and dabbled in a few first aid sessions.

This lingering aftertaste of hero work was enough to satisfy you after your retirement, and Katsuki respected your career choice providing you were happy with it. If he had the time he'd even offer to help out with any work you'd bring home since he could still ace any exam put in front of him even now.

However, with your respective busy schedules any time you got to spend together was appreciated. Even if it was a day like today when you'd been gifted the opportunity to do some shopping in the district - Katsuki wearing a hoodie and mask to prevent the whole idea of socialising with anyone but you.

Yet, timing was not on your side. Katsuki had pulled his mask down to meet your lips in a chasté kiss, brief glimpse of a sentimental smile gracing his expression whilst remaining in proximity.

“Oh. My. Wash.” Odd reference to hero no.8 but still, Katsuki and yourself snapped to the nearby interruption finding familiar sets of shocked eyes staring on.

"The hell is wrong with you?" The blonde aggressively barked, flicking to the teens with festering irritation. "Never seen a damn kiss before? Grow up!"

Immediately you grabbed his hood, pulling him back to you close enough to whisper in his ear.

"Katsuki... they're um... from my class."

He froze up then once you released him and looked back to the group with an expression of pure resentment. 

"Fuck."

"Yeah, fuck." You confirmed under your breath, sighing hopelessly when meeting the sparkling gazes of admiration from your students.

"You're dating a pro hero?!" One of them exclaimed, another following in just as enthusiastically.

"No no, you're dating THE pro hero!"

"He's not top ten so technically—" Meanwhile you deftly attempted to subdue their excitement as it began to garner the attention of passersby.

"He's famous! All that stuff during the war, plus he's like a living legend. That man is a freaking powerhouse, I wanna be as cool as him when I make it to the pro leagues." Another proudly claimed, pointing finger guns at Bakugō who only tsked in response wearing his classic glare. Noting the accumulating attention he fixed his mask, reaching for your wrist and angling himself in front of you.

"Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight and (L/n)-Sensei. Who'd have thought it?"

It started to grow out of control, the lingering onlookers surrounding you both and your students in a crowd, then erupting in applause and flashes.

"Did they say Dynamight?! Take a picture!”

"PRO HERO DYNAMIGHT IS HERE!!"

Before you knew it, fresh air brushed your skin and Katsukis' hand lingered on your lower back.

"You good?"

"Dating a pro hero is definitely not boring." You breathed relief, the pair of you looking back in the direction of the shopping districts and both silently agreeing to walk the other way.

"Is when ya can't even browse in peace."

"It's okay, we can grab ramen and head home?"

"Work gonna be okay for you?"

"I'm sure I'll get questioned about it, but the kids will be fine.” You shrugged it off, figuring they’d probably find out eventually anyway.

"Get Deku to talk to the shitheads."

"Izuku is... well being strict isn't his strong suit... so..."

"That wimp can't even manage a bunch of brats?! Course he can't, damn idiot." The blonde moodily attested, flicking his crimson gaze back to you with a cunning smirk far too menacing for his proposition. "If you want, call me and I'll assist in a training session from hell."

"Katsuki, you cannot blow up heroes-in-training regardless of your ‘Explosion Murder God’ title.”

“It builds character. Gotta toughen up if they want to be pros don’t they?” He held the door to a small restaurant open for you, smirking proudly with his justification. You could only shake your head with a laugh.

“I guess you’re right.”

———

As predicted, the next time you saw your students at U.A, the interrogation immediately ensued.

"Today for our English lesson—"

"How'd you meet?" One of your students abashedly cut you off, the moment you’d stepped into class no less.

"By accident. Anyway I have some worksheets—" Again you attempted to continue as if nothing had transpired; as if no revolutionary news had been discovered; as if the entire class hadn’t already heard about it.

"How long have you been together?"

"Long enough. These sheets will—" In vain, you tried, a girl putting up her hand and not even waiting to be selected before speaking anyway.

"Do you wanna get married?"

"I want to get this lesson done. I'm not answering anything about my personal life." Hands on your hips, you faced them with a scolding expression - intimidating enough for them to get the message.

"Dynamight is coming for the sport festival this year right? We could ask him him then."

"You... you do realise the man you're talking about? Mildly snappy, questionable people tolerance, a little explosive..." Saracasm flowed through you, for his attitude toward the public was the sole reason he wasn’t ranked higher. Based on hero ability alone, he would be undoubtedly top three.

"And your boyfriend."

"And my boyfriend." Was your deadpan reiteration, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose before sighing. "I am highly against this, if you do get to speak to him, it'd be wise to gain valuable advice on hero-related subjects. But for now, this is worksheet explains..."

———

Thankfully, your class had stuck to their word, the ‘revelation’ no longer became a tangent for questioning. Aside from for hero advice or genuine check ups on Dynamights’ well-being after a particular gnarly attack portrayed on the news the previous night.

Indeed, they also remained true to their word by tracking the infamous hero down during the sport festival. Cornering him in one of the halls of the stadium before the next upcoming event - no doubt on his way to find you or Midoriya-Sensei.

"Dynamight! Dynamight wait up!"

The hero met the approaching group with a scrutinising side eye, scanning each student and narrowing upon recognition.

"You brats again."

"Yes, but there's a few things we wanna ask you!" One of them desperately explained, trying keep his attention and presence in tact. Meanwhile Dynamight growled lowly, folding his arms with an accusatory glare potent enough to send them running for their lives in moments.

"I swear this better be good else I'm outta—"

"It's about (L/n)-Sensei."

"..." A second of silence. His features softening minutely with his tone morphing to one less antagonistic. "Go on then."

———

Izuku sat opposite you in the faculty room, fingers occupied by the warm cup of tea he was currently nursing after delivering the information to you.

"He... he actually told them?"

"Yeah." Izuku nodded in confirmation, his carefree grin far too chipper for the matter at hand.

"Without yelling?"

"Uh-huh."

"Why...?" It was retorical, almost mystified, but Midoriya only laughed and answered you anyway.

"Kacchan has no problem talking about things he likes or is interested in, it's been that way since we were kids. It just so happens one of his favourite subjects is you (Y/n)." Again he spoke brightly, you think even he is besotted with the situation.

"Izuku, don't say cheesy stuff like that!"

"Sorry, if it's any consolation I think if they asked any 'dumb questions' he'd have shooed them off."

Following your conversation with Izuku, returning to your class came with a sense of both unease and comfort. Apprehensive about how they would react toward you from now on, especially since you weren’t clued up on the details of the conversation they’d had with your boyfriend.

"Hey 2A, I heard your interrogation went well."

"Oh yeah? Did you get told that at home?" One of them replied happily, the exchange between you that of a playful one which left you rolling your eyes with a smile.

"No, Midoriya Sensei filled me in. I haven't seen Dynamight, he’s busy with hero stuff y'know."

"We found out everything we wanted to know so we won't pester you anymore. Also asked about hero stuff like you said." He continued, watching as you focused on writing the lesson objectives on the blackboard rather than the conversation.

"There was one thing that piqued our interest though." One of the girls giddily added on as if it were a trade secret they were all in on. Unawares to you, the entire class held a unanimous feeling of bubbling expectance, like a time bomb waiting to go off.

"Uh huh." You continued writing, lacking investment in the whole ordeal.

"He said wants to marry you too."

The snapping of your chalk echoed a little too heavily in the anticipating silence of the classroom.

<——————————<<<<

A/N: Yet chapter 431 just doesn’t sit right with me…

[ Masterlist ]

[charlotteking23]

The Lion's Lamb - chapter 1 - MV1/33

Max Verstappen x reader

The lion's lamb series: Aesthetics, Ch. 2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch.6, Ch.7, Ch.8, Ch.9

You spent most of your life alone. It wasn't your decision but artists tend to isolate themselves by accident. you were the type to find inspiration and peace when alone.

You would spend hours in your room, painting, until your vision became a reality.

Most people would never work as hard as you do to make a living, but you lived in Monaco. The country where money flowed. You knew you weren't like other residents that surrounded her in this country.

You weren't rich and you didn't have a trust fund to fall back onto. Don't get it wrong, your paintings sold high enough to be able to live in the country permanently, but you were barely scrapping by.

Some might ask why you choose to live in Monaco when you could have been living somewhere else more comfortably.

Monaco itself was known for their wealth and in your line of work, you need the rich to buy your work. You had about three regular clients in Monaco that provided 80% of your entire income.

Coffee was the only time you took a break and wandered into the outside world. And today was one of those days where you needed a break. you had been in your room for the past 4 hours trying to come up with something, but your mind was blank with ideas.

A client had commissioned a piece about 3 months ago and gave the 23 year old a wide range of creative ability on the painting as long as it was a darker piece.

You were the epitome of bright and bubbly and couldn't seem to get her mind into a darker frame of thought. With the piece needing to be done in a months time, you were starting to stress.

You had ordered your cup of coffee at your usual spot. You heard your name being yelled at the counter and quickly went up to grab your drink. Once in hand, you turned only to run into a wall, spilling coffee all over herself and the wall.

To add fuel to the fire of the already embarrassing situation, you slipped on the coffee that had spilled on the ground and fell to the floor hard causing more attention to be drawn onto you. While on the ground, you noticed two shoes in front of you.

You hadn't run into a wall like you originally thought, but instead a man. Your eyes followed the shoes all the way up at the man's face.

Piercing blue eyes stared down at you in annoyance. You could tell he wasn't truly taking you in but rather glaring at you for spilling both their coffees.

Jumping up quickly, You immediately grabbed some napkins off the counter of the coffee shop and tried your best to wipe the stains off the mans white shirt.

"I'm so sorry sir!" you said with tears building in your eyes. "I didn't see you! I'm so sorry!"

As you wipe the man's chest, he grabs your hands causing you to look up at him. It was then, he took in the details of you standing before him.

Your big eyes stared up at him, tears threatening to spill out of the sides. You had a light sprinkle of freckles that ran along her cheekbones and over your nose.

You had long hair that was pulled back out of Your face, but bangs to frame your face perfectly. Your lips were the perfect size and your cheeks were now the color of your lips from embarrassment.

There was a certain shine in your eyes that drew him. He couldn't tell if it was because of the tears or something else, but he needed to find out.

"It's alright," he said. You picked up an accent that wasn't from Monaco but you didn't know where.

"Please, sir, let me buy you your coffee! It's my fault, I can at least try make up it up to you by getting you another."

He nods his head at your response causing a smile to erupt across your face. The man loved how every part of your face lit up at his response. He didn't even say a word, yet you acted like he hung the stars just for you.

"How do you like your coffee?" you asked.

"Black," he state.

With a nod of your head, you told him to sit down while you waited in line. There were only two people ahead of you but you didn't want the man to have to stand with you after you ruined his clothes.

Being around him longer than necessary would cause more embarrassment on your part.

After getting both their coffees again, you found your way back to the blue eyed stranger sitting at a corner table by the window.

"Here," you said while putting it on the table. You noticed his shirt was definitely going to stain and winced slightly at the brown blob on his chest "Again sir, I am so sorry!"

You started digging in your bag for some money to give to the man for dry cleaning. Pulling out whatever you had, you tried to hand it to the man, "Here. It's not a lot but it should pay for dry cleaning to get that stain out."

"No," was the simple response you got.

"Please! It'll make me feel better if you take it! It's the only way I can make up for spilling you coffee!"

"Sit down," he said. You tilted your head in confusion at the blue eyed man. "Sit down and tell me your name. I don't want your money but I will take a name and a conversation as payment."

A blush quickly took over your cheeks as you shyly looked away from the man and sat down across from him. When you sat down you finally got a good look at his face.

He was attractive. He had these piercing blue eyes that would stare into your sole. He looked at you with softness but you were scared to be on the other end of that stare when he was angry.

He was tall, or at least taller than you, but that wasn't saying much compared to him. He was a dirty blond and had a bit of scruff that started to turn into a beard.

You could tell he didn't smile much due to him having very little smile lines. He was a serious man and it showed.

"Your name?" He stated.

"(name)," she said softly, "and yours?"

The man's eyes quickly flashed a look of surprise before they softened again, "Max."

[petertingle-yipyip]

DONT BE A FOOL - MATT MURDOCK

Pairing: matt x wife!reader

Word Count: 2, 156

Summary: After a very tense argument about a misused name, your apologetic husband ends up getting looped in by your students.

//follow-up to three empty words but can probably be read on its own. i realize i lost the original plot so if it’s too bothersome, i’ll rewrite it// rewrite/part three?

The next morning, you refused to dilly dally your morning routine. Your shower was quick, your hair and makeup remained simple. Even your outfit was more or less the first thing you grabbed from your closet. You gathered all of your papers - which you hadn’t gotten around to grading the night before - and your laptop before Matt’s alarm had even gone off.

You skipped making breakfast, deciding to stop at a coffee shop on the way to work instead, and hustled out the door. You ignored the still sleeping figure of Elektra on your couch even though your brain wanted to soak her with cold water and kick her out. You did slam the door on your way out but that was just to satisfy your own anger.

You walked into your classroom and let out a loud sigh as you dropped into your deskchair. You were thankful to be out of the house, in your own space for the time being. As you began grading the papers and piling them according to the hours, your mind wandered back to the night before. You wondered if Elektra would be out of your apartment when you got back. You wondered if Matt would tell Foggy and Karen that you two got into a fight last night. You then found yourself wondering if Matt was actually going to go to work that morning.

You realized you were staring blankly at the student’s worksheet in front of you so you shook the thoughts and focused on the daunting stacks before you.

Most of the hours were business as usual. Your normal rowdy students were a bit extra, but that might’ve been due to your already grated nerves more than their own behaviors. It wasn’t until the hour before lunch that you found some of your students more huddled and secretive than usual.

“What are you doing in the corner?” You called, peaking over your computer at the small group. “There’s, what, five minutes till the bell?”

“Mrs. Murdock, what’s your husband’s name?” One of the girls, Liv, asked with an innocent expression. The same one she gave you when she explained her lacking assignments.

“Matthew.” You titled down your screen to see them better. “Why?”

“What does he do again?”

“Lawyer. Why?”

“Is he handsome?” Another girl, Nicole, asked with wiggling eyebrows.

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes at your middle schoolers.

“Yes, very.” You smiled slightly. “I wouldn’t have married him if he wasn’t.”

“And if he’s a lawyer, he’s gotta be smart, right?”

“Again, very. He went to Columbia.”

“So like… Is he why you’re so sad today?” Blake, the only boy in the group, chimed in with a nonchalant shrug.

“Guys.” You frowned slightly. “I’m not sure what you’re doing, but I’m not sad. Me and Mr. Murdock are fine. We’re happily married. And you should be worried about your own relationship drama, not mine.”

“So you admit there’s drama?” Nicole countered quickly.

“Between Blake and Emmy? Yes.” You nodded and Emmy’s jaw dropped while her friends poked her teasingly. “Between me and Mr. Murdock, no.”

“Mhmm.. So why is the photo face down?”

“What?”

“The photo by your computer.” She came across the room and lifted the frame near your laptop that was in fact, face down. “You told us on the first day that this was one your favorite photos and you have it on it’s face… There’s drama, Mrs. Murdock.”

“You’re very observant, Nicole. Thank you.” You said flatly as you took the frame from her hands and set it in it’s rightful position. “I must’ve knocked it over when I was trying to find you and Liv’s missing portfolio project.” “You can’t deflect, Mrs. M.” Liv added from across the room. “It’s all over your face.”

“Y’know what.” You announced, standing from your desk. “The bell rings in less than two minutes. You guys can all go to lunch early.”

A chorus of questions arose while you heard the door being pushed open.

“They can’t write you all up.” You shrugged and dropped back in your chair while the meddling group made their way into the hall.

The girls continued to whisper to themselves and glanced back at you, to which you shooed them away. When you were finally alone in your classroom, you let out a heavy sigh and rubbed a hand over your eyes.

Usually, you adored having open communication with your students because that meant they trusted you. But at the same time, that meant they felt entitled to know your life story whether you like it or not. The bell echoed in your ears so you spun your chair to the small fridge under your desk that held your lunch.

You clicked play on a playlist from your laptop and began eating your lunch, typing away to enter in grades. You knew you should just do nothing, scroll mindlessly on your social medias instead or maybe even call Foggy to ensure Matt made it to work, but the busy work for your eyes, head, and hands felt better. Plus, you weren’t exactly sure what you would’ve said that could’ve gotten your question answered without being a dead giveaway. So you kept working instead.

“MRS. MURDOCK!” Liv nearly yelled as she burst through your door, maybe halfway through the lunch hour. “OHMYGODYOULLNEVERBELIEVE-”

“Liv!” You said in shock, nearly dropping your water bottle. “What is going on? Is everything okay?”

“Look at this!” She hurried across and showed you her phone screen. Oddly enough, it was a photo of the back of a man exiting a taxi. What stood out to you was the white cane in his hand.

“It’s a guy getting out a cab.” You tried to reason, gently pushing her phone away. “That’s what you ran in here to tell me?”

“But he’s blind!”

“So it seems.”

“Don’t you know what this means?” She insisted with a small stomp.

You simply shrugged and raised your brows.

“It’s Mr. Murdock! He came to apologize!”

“Liv, I appreciate your concern for my marriage but we’re fine, okay? It’s not like he and I are heading towards a divorce. We’re just in a bit of an argument. It’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? Because I’ve never seen you so…” She gestured vaguely to you.

“Yes, I’m sure. Now go back to your lunch, please. I have to finish these.”

“But-”

“No.”

“Mrs. M, just-”

“Liv, boundaries, please.”

“Just listen!”

“No.” You said firmly. “Go back to your lunch.”

She huffed slightly but retreated to the door. As she was heading out, she nearly ran into one of the monitors.

“Sorry to intrude, Y/N.” The monitor said as she popped her head in. “I have a visitor for you.”

“Another one of my kids being a problem?” You sighed and wheeled yourself a bit further from your desk. “Send ‘em in. They can sit in the corner till next class.”

“Actually, I think you’ll be glad to see this one.” She smiled knowingly and reached for something outside the doorframe.

Before you could voice another question, she ushered Matt through the door. He said his usual thanks for being guided and the monitor gave you an approving nod and thumbs up. She mouthed a very not subtle ‘He’s very handsome’. You smiled awkwardly in agreement but once the door closed, you rolled your eyes and went back to your gradebook.

“Could’ve called.” You said simply.

“I didn’t think you would answer.” Matt replied honestly.

“Probably wouldn’t have… Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I couldn’t focus.”

You heard the clicks of him folding his cane as he wandered around your classroom. You peaked up to watch him manueaver the desks with such ease that for a split second, you forgot he was blind. You watched him run his fingers along the bulletin board you had on one wall, leading into the standards and other required signage you had up.

“Did she leave?” You asked and returned to your prior task. You knew if you watched him for too long, he’d know and he’d show you that stupid lopsided smirk that he did.

“She was still pretty weak when I left.” He said and there was a slight sadness in his voice. Though if someone asked if it was for Elektra or your argument, you wouldn’t have been able to say. “But I did ask Stick to find somewhere else to take her to recover if she can’t leave on her own by the time someone gets home.”

“Chivalrous.” You made a face behind your computer screen. “You didn’t have to come all the way here to tell me that.”

He sighed slightly and you mumbled a short complaint to yourself before scooting away from your desk and spinning in your chair to face him, just as he appeared at your side. You folded your hands over your stomach and leaned back in your chair, giving an exaggerated sigh and nod for him to talk.

“Y/N, last night, I said something I shouldn’t have.” He began carefully, as if he was following a carefully rehearsed speech. For all you knew, he had rehearsed it with Foggy that morning before he showed up. “I let Stick push me and I just said the first thing that came to mind.”

“But she shouldn’t be the first thing, right?” You said softly with a small shrug. “Stick shouldn’t be able to push you into saying that, whether you meant it or not.”

“You’re right.” He admitted and your brows went up slightly. “I shouldn’t have said that. You are the only woman that I want to be with. I married you, without any hesitation. I never had second thoughts or second thoughts or anything. You, Y/N Murdock, have my heart.”

You nodded slowly but said nothing as you stood. You crossed your arms and looked up at him, him offering a hopeful expression in return. You broke into a small smile and nudged him with your shoulder before moving past him. He followed you almost instantly and you took him to the wall on the other side of your desk near the window.

“The kids started calling this the Sweetheart’s Spotlight.” You said quietly with a small smile. “They keep a polaroid camera in one of the cubbies and every Friday, they rearrange the couples in order of their favorites… They made me put a photo of us on here, too.”

“Where do we rank?” He smiled slightly.

“We’ve been number one since it started.” You laughed. “They tell me that you’re the best by default since I’m their favorite teacher.”

“Lucky me.”

“You know I’m still upset, right?” You said carefully when the air was too light between you two.

“I know.” He nodded. “I can hear it in your voice.”

“But I also don’t want to hold onto this fight. So here’s an idea. Elektra’s out of the apartment today. You two finish whatever crusade you’re on. You make sure you don’t get yourself killed. She leaves New York and it’s all put to bed.”

“Consider it done.” He nodded. “And I know better than to get myself killed. I’ve got it too good to die.”

“Yeah because then I’m a widow and there’s not much life insurance to cash in on.” You joked as the lunch bell rang.

“I should get going.” He nodded before gently taking your hand. “I love you. So much.”

“I love you too.” You said softly as your students started filing in.

“OHMYGOD.” One of your students yelled and you closed your eyes tightly, quietly groaning in embarrassment. “IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS?”

“Yes, Luna.” You said, feeling the blush across your cheeks. “This is Mr. Murdock and he’s leaving.”

You pulled Matt towards the door as he laughed. Your kids yelled questions that you tried to ignore until Matt stopped, pulling you to stop with him.

“It’s career week!” One of the boys yelled. More so a demand.

“I’m aware, Jack.” You nodded. “What does that have to do with this?”

“He’s not here to talk to us about lawyers?” The boy’s head cocked as he asked his question.

“That’s exactly why I’m here.” Matt grinned and you groaned again. “Let’s give Mrs. Murdock a break, right?”

“You’re so dead.” You threatened quietly with a laugh before heading back to your chair. 

“Okay, kids.” You announced. “He’s blind and can’t write. I’m not getting up. Take your own notes and keep your questions relevant to his career, okay?”

“Yes, Mrs. Murdock.” They all answered.

“All yours, Mr. Murdock.” You gestured before returning to grading and the personal questions started flying.

“How did you guys meet?!”

“What’s her favorite color?!”

“Did you see the wall?!” “He can’t see!”

“Are they always this rowdy?” He asked you with a slight laugh.

“You’re new and exciting.” You shrugged. “Take it as a compliment.”

[everyonewooeverywhere]

NSFW BLOG | MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

chapter 1 : oh shit. a cowboy.

summary: when you come into his shop to get your boyfriend's car fixed, yunho can help but wonder what a hardworking, pretty girl like you is doing with someone so...pathetic. and maybe, just maybe, he feels like he could treat you better.

pairing: cowboy mechanic!yunho x female!reader

genre: non-idol au | strangers to lovers | angst | fluff (no smut yet, but there will be eventually)

rating: 18+ (for the whole series bc there will be smut eventually)

word count: 4.9k

content/warnings: pet names (sweetheart, doll), strangers to lovers, toxic relationship, yeonjun slander 😗 (sry baby), yj and reader get into a pretty big fight

notes: literally thank you so much to @ateez-main-yapper for helping me write this! like this would not exist without her letting me yap in her dms. or letting her help build the story up. or asking her to help edit. this was a two woman job 🙂‍↕️ so thank you baby 💗

ALSO there have been a couple changes and edits from the teaser, so not everything of the first 1k words is the same ☺️

and YES there will be a part 2 (& 3 💀) so PLEASE don't ask for it 😭 she will come when she's ready

Where the fuck was this place? You took another turn down another shaded alley, the sky strangely overcast for two in the afternoon.

The tapping of your fingers on the steering wheel was the only music since the stereo had broken months ago when Yeonjun slammed his fist against it in a fit of rage when you asked him to skip his gig this weekend to attend your sister’s wedding. Now it just blinked periodically when the car hit a bump, giving it miniscule signs of life. And for a man who focused his whole life around his music, he seemed uncharacteristically uninterested in getting it repaired. And maybe it would never get fixed because you could only afford to get the big issues fixed today.

After six wrong turns you finally pulled into the parking lot. Your friend had recommended this garage when you’d told her this car had been having all sorts of issues, and she insisted on here. You had your doubts when she pulled up the Instagram of one of the mechanics to show you the shop and ended up going on about how hot he was for several minutes, but you didn’t really have any other options.

It looked official enough. The brick building was large enough to house two large garage doors that opened up the shop to the dusty parking lot. Peering inside, you could see that there weren't many people inside the garage. There were only two mechanics in your line of sight, the closer of the two venturing back and forth between his toolbox and the taillights of an old Chevy, and you were their only customer as far as you could tell. You shrugged, Maybe they’re understaffed. 

You shrugged before swinging the car door open and grabbing your purse out of the passenger’s seat, brushing off your pants before you made your way in. There wasn’t a front desk or a receptionist to talk to, and you got the feeling that this shop was solely run and staffed by the men inside. 

You spent several moments hovering by one of the garage doors, shuffling your feet and trying to catch the eye of one of the mechanics, but neither of them looked up. Entirely too absorbed in their work to notice your presence. They must not get very busy. 

“Um…hello?” You spoke, trying not to startle either of them. 

They both turned to you, and the man who’d been fixing up the Chevy opened his mouth to speak. But he was cut off by his coworker, who jogged over from where he'd been partially hidden from view behind a rack of miscellaneous parts, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder and muttering a quick, “I’ve got her, Min.” 

“Min” chuckled and rolled his eyes, returning to his work.

Oh god. 

“Hey Doll, what can I do for ya?” Something about the way he sauntered up to you and smiled so gently immediately filled your stomach with butterflies, but you chose to ignore them for the sake of your own sanity.

Doll. That was a new one, and you felt that anyone else uttering that word toward you would’ve disgusted you to your core. But something about this stranger was strangely comforting. Maybe it was the way he tilted his head as he waited for you to speak. Maybe it was the baseball cap strewn backward on his head. Or maybe it was the strands of his taupe hair that fell in front of his face, strands you imagined yourself brushing up under his hat.

Your fingers fidgeted with the strap of your purse, “I’m, uh, having some car issues.”

The laugh he let out, and the curve of his lips that accompanied it, made the tips of your ears burn, “‘Course you are, sweetheart. Anything in particular, though?”

“Oh,” you chuckled softly along with him, “Well, he mentioned that the acceleration’s been kinda weird, and I thought the engine was a little loud when I drove it here today. Sorry, I don’t really know a ton about cars.”

He hummed and tapped his foot a couple of times, “Which one is it?” 

You pointed across the lot. 

“Alright, let me pull it into the garage,” he put his hand out in your direction. 

You stared at it, confused, and when you looked back up at his face he was smiling at you again. Stupid smile. He made your heart flutter more than you would’ve liked to admit.

“Keys, sweetheart. Your keys.”

“Oh,” you scrambled around in your purse before handing them over, embarrassed. 

He took them from you with a 'thanks doll' and a tip of his head, hand hovering over his forehead in a way that made you think he was used to wearing hats much bigger than this simple baseball cap. Before you could even question it further he was jogging across the lot and pulling the car through the big garage doors. 

When he stepped out of the car he looked at you curiously, “This your car?”

You shook your head, “No it’s my boyfriend’s. He’s been…busy…lately, so he hasn’t been able to bring it in. He keeps complaining about it, though, so I just decided to do it for him, I guess.”

He raised his eyebrow at you, nodding slowly. 

“What?” you asked, moderately offended.

He shook his head, waving a dismissive hand, “Nothing. Sorry. You just seemed a little unsure is all.”

“Yeah…I don’t know. I honestly think he just kept complaining so I would get tired of his whining and go on and get it fixed myself,” You chuckled awkwardly. Why the fuck were you telling him this? You started to feel a little embarrassed.

And that feeling only got worse when you saw the mildly horrified look on his face. 

You shook your head and ran a frustrated hand through your hair, “Can you just fix it?”

That pretty fucking smile came back, and your grip on your hair tightened just a little in frustration. “Of course I can. Glad you brought this in when you did, honestly. Seems like your boy toy’s got a bit of an exhaust leak. Could be pretty dangerous, so it's good to get it off the road.”

“Ah, perfect.” You shifted on your feet, “How long will it take, do you think?”

He lifted his hat and ruffled his messy hair before readjusting it on his head. Why did every little movement he made drive you crazy? “Unfortunately, issues like this take a couple days. I doubt I could get her done any sooner than tomorrow.”

You nodded, “Okay. I’ll try and get a ride home then.”

“Alright, Doll. Let me write down your number real quick so I–so we can call ya when she’s ready.”

You wrote down your name and number for him on a pink sticky note that he stuck to the dash. 

“Perfect!” He smiled at you, “We’ll call ya tomorrow.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, “Awesome! Thank you…Oh. I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“Yunho. My name is Yunho, sweetheart. It’s nice to meet you.” He stuck out his hand for you to shake.

And you couldn’t help the ramming of your heart in your chest when he took your hand into his own.

Yunho watched as you stepped out into the parking lot to call someone, presumably that questionable boyfriend of yours who seemed to be way more trouble than he was worth. He couldn’t help how his heart had dropped when you told him you had a boyfriend in the first place. After a long while of singleness, he was kind of hoping to test the waters when he saw you, and it even seemed like you responded positively to his obvious flirtations.

“So a boyfriend, huh?” Mingi startled him from behind.

Yunho let out a small sigh, trying not to let himself get too worked up about it. You had only met twenty minutes ago for fucks sake. “Yeah, seems like a real piece of work though.”

“Really?” MIngi gave his friend a skeptical side-eye, “Or is that the jealously talking.”

“No, seriously! This is his car. And she said it’s been actin’ up for a while, but he never made the time to bring it in. She only brought it here ‘cause he wouldn’t stop whining ‘bout it.”

“Huh. Sounds kinda child-like to me, but who are we to judge? We haven't even met the dude,” Mingi pat his friend on the back, “Try not to let it get you down, man. I’m sure there’s a cowboy-lovin girl right around the corner waiting for you.”

Yunho nodded, moving along so Mingi would let the whole thing drop. But no matter how many times he repeated in his head that you were taken, he just couldn’t stop looking over in your direction. You just seemed so…tired. He didn’t want to assume, but he got the feeling that this boyfriend of yours might be the main cause of that. And try as he might to reign in his ego and keep it in check, he couldn't help the part of him that knew that, whatever this man was providing for you, he could do so much better. That wasn’t really his place, though. So he let you be. 

“Yeonjun what do you mean you’re busy? You were on the couch when I left an hour ago,” you sighed through the phone.

“Baby, come on. You know I have a gig tonight,” You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “And I need to get in the right headspace, so I can’t leave the apartment. It’ll ruin the mood.”

“Is that really more important than picking me up? I’m stuck here.”

“I don’t know. Call an Uber?” Oh, you were gonna kill him.

“What? Why would I pay for an Uber when I have a boyfriend at home with my perfectly functioning car who could drive his ass over here and pick me up? For free!”

You hated how difficult it was to get him to help you out in any way. Why did he have to be so stubborn? “Listen, I really can’t break my flow right now. Maybe wait a couple hours, and I’ll come pick you up, okay? Or maybe have one of your friends pick you up.”

“It’s 3 pm on a Tuesday, Jun. Most people are at–” He hung up on you, “Work..” You trailed off.

God, this is so embarrassing. What the hell were you going to do now? You could call an Uber, but you could barely afford groceries this week. And getting this car fixed was gonna drain the last of your paycheck. 

You bit at your lip anxiously, wracking your head for options. Your friends would be more than happy to pick you up, but most of them wouldn’t get off work for another two hours. So maybe you could just wait until then. Or maybe you could hitchhike? The highway was miles off. And your gut wrenched at the idea of a stranger knowing where you lived…But maybe that could work. Or maybe you cou–

“Everything alright out here, sweetheart?” 

You jumped at his voice, “Oh! Yeah,” you scratched at your head, trying to force a smile, “My boyfriend’s just really busy, so he can’t come get me.”

“Do you…need a ride?” He offered sincerely, “I don’t wanna overstep or anything, but I could help ya if you need it.”

“Oh god no! You don’t have to do that.”

He grinned softly at you, “It’s really nothing at all. I’ll tell you what, I’m leaving here in about an hour. If you can’t find a ride before that, you’ll let me give you drive you home.”

Just say ‘yes.’ Your brain was practically begging you to speak, but you knew this would cause an argument with Yeonjun. A random handsome man bringing you back to the apartment? Oh, it was a recipe for disaster. But what other choice did you have? It wasn’t like he was gonna pay for an Uber to help you home or pick you up himself. No, he left you stranded here with a shit reason, so you were gonna get home the best way possible, and, if it pissed him off, that was his own damn fault.

“Ok,” you smiled up at him, “If you really don’t mind.”

“Trust me, Doll, it’s no problem at all. Let me just finish a couple things up and change, and then we’ll get going, okay?”

You sat on the bench inside the shop while he finished his work. Trying to give yourself a moment to breathe. This was supposed to be your day off. You had finally been able to get a break from both of your jobs, and this is how you were spending it. Trying to fix the car of your boyfriend who couldn't even put his “pre-show ritual” on hold to make sure you got home safe. Part of you was mad at him. Livid that his priorities were so far in the gutter. But you were mostly angry at yourself. Because at the end of the day, when all was said and done, you were the one who had spent six whole years of your life bending over backward for a man who wouldn’t even reach out his arm to catch you. 

You worked two jobs to support the two of you. Your paychecks paid for groceries, rent, insurance, everything. And what did he pay for? Nothing. Because he didn’t have a job. He played two gigs every month at the dingy bar two miles from your apartment, which somehow justified not even bothering to look for employment. 

How did you even get here? A deep sigh rose out of your throat. What the hell were you doing all this for? Your head hurt just thinking about all the times he’d let you down and all the stupid little arguments those let-downs had caused. And yet you were still out here paying his bills and running his errands.

“Alright, sweetheart, ready to go?” You broke out of your spiral when he called for you, and you looked up to see him no longer in the denim and baseball cap he was sporting earlier. 

Lord help me. You silently prayed to whoever might be listening, swallowing around the sudden dryness in your throat. He was sporting a light blue button-down shirt with the top two buttons left open so his collarbones were exposed and a light brown cowboy hat that almost exactly matched his hair. A cowboy. Of course. You couldn’t help the racing of your heart as he reached to adjust the brim of his hat. Unsure of whether you wanted to praise or curse whatever fate had sent him your way.

You cleared your throat and stood up from the bench, barely pushing a ‘yes’ out of your mouth. 

He grinned and motioned for you to follow him to the parking lot. The innocent gesture left you lightheaded as you focused on the way his index and middle fingers curled towards his wrist.

As you approached, he gestured to a baby blue pickup truck, “Here she is. My baby.” You chuckled, endeared by the pet name, the image of him gently patting the hood of 'his baby' as he walked around the front of the truck with you reminding you of cowboys in old westerns, leaning their foreheads against their mares as they gently stroked their manes. 

It was sweet. So sweet that you almost missed the fact that he was coming around to the passenger side of the truck with you.

He brushed past you, reaching for the passenger-side door. Swinging it open, he held out a hand to you, and you took it without much thought. 

“Up you go,” he said with a playful lilt to his voice, helping you hold your balance as you climbed into the truck.

“Thank you, Yunho.”

“It’s not a problem at all, Doll. I got ya.” He was going to be the death of you for sure.

“Ten years. You’ve been working there that long?” you looked over at him, amazed, “How old are you?”

He let out a hearty laugh, “Twenty-five. Mingi and I used to come up after school every day and help out. His grandpa used to run the shop but he retired a few years back and left it to him.”

“Oh, that’s sweet!” The thought of a little Yunho sweeping the floors and vacuuming cars made you smile. 

He hummed, “Yeah, it’s been a real nice job. Flexible hours, good pay, get to meet pretty girls from time to time.”

The tips of your ears burned at his blatant flirting. You looked over to see him focused on the road in front of you. The rays of the late afternoon sun shone on his face, letting you see the tan glow of his skin up close. 

Why did you have to meet such a seemingly perfect man today? Why couldn’t this opportunity have fallen into your lap six years ago? 

And fuck you knew you needed to end things. But more than half a decade of your life had been poured into this relationship and you couldn’t find it in your heart to let that go so easily.

Yunho noticed you looking over at him in his periphery, expecting some kind of playful rebuke, but was more than a little worried by your silence. Afraid he'd crossed a line, he was quick to apologize, eyes sincere and tone sober when he chanced a proper glance your way. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’ mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No! It’s fine,” You assure him, unconsciously threading your fingers through the ends of your hair, “I just don’t usually get this kind of attention. I know you’re just being playful.”

He nodded, some of his playfulness seeping back into his expression as he cleared his throat, adjusting the brim of his hat as he fixed his attention back onto the road in front of him. “I promise I’m not lyin’ about the ‘pretty’ part, though. I hope you know that.”

You scoff, but you can feel the heat in your cheeks rise, “Thank you…”

Silence enveloped the two of you after that, but he didn't seem to mind. Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and humming along to the music playing out of the car's stereo. In another life, one where the man waiting for you back at your apartment wasn't hell-bent on driving you insane, you wanted to believe that you could be strong enough to look away. To ignore the butterflies filling your stomach. To ignore the way he made your heart flutter. But you just couldn’t find it in you to look away, but he didn’t seem to catch on.

He thinks it's cute that you think he doesn’t notice. He’s very keen on noticing your every little move. The way you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear when he called you pretty and the way you awkwardly fidgeted with your bag when you told him that you didn’t normally receive that kind of attention.

It took every ounce of self-control in his body to keep him from prying. But he couldn’t help the way he started to hate this man that he’d never met even more. What he wouldn’t give to have a partner who was willing to go get his car fixed without asking. Someone who was so dedicated to the relationship that they were willing to sacrifice the little free time they had just to help out.

As he pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex, he glanced over at you and met your eyes for a second. You quickly whipped your head away, embarrassed that you’d been caught red-handed. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling, smiled, “Here we are.”

“Mhm,” you nodded awkwardly, busying yourself with checking that you had all your things set to go. “Thank you for the ride. It means a lot.”

“Not a problem at all, Doll. Need me to walk you up?” he asked, leaning forward to try and meet your eyes.

You shook your head, “No, I’ll be alright.” You gave him a smile, “So you’ll call me tomorrow?”

He nodded, the tip of his hat dropping slightly, “Yep, I should be done with ‘er around noon.”

“Perfect! Again, thank you so mu–”

You were cut off by the sound of someone pounding on the passenger side window. Both of you turn at the sudden commotion. 

Yunho watched as you hurriedly swung the door open and slid out of the car. And he heard a muffled, “Jun, what the hell!?” after you’d slammed the door of his truck.

Ah, the boyfriend.

“Are you insane? What the fuck is your problem?” You yelled.

Yeonjun glared at you through the wild strands of his crimson hair, “My problem!? Who the fuck is that?”

“Oh, that’s your issue? That I had to have the mechanic drive me home?” You seethed, jabbing a finger into his chest, “This could’ve easily been avoided if you had picked your sorry ass off the couch to drive me home yourself. Like any decent partner would.”

Your not-so-subtle jab seemed to go over his head, his mind too focused on the image of you smiling and blushing in response to a man that wasn’t him. “You really couldn’t have found a woman to drive you home? It just had to be this dick.”

“No, Yeonjun, I couldn’t find a woman to drive me home. You know why? Because it’s a Tuesday afternoon and all of my friends have jobs. Unlike you who can’t even take the time to take a break from whatever the fuck you do all day to give me a ride.”

He gawked at you, clearly offended, “I have a job.”

“Oh my god. This again?” You ran a frustrated hand over your face, “No. You don’t. Practicing with your bandmates twice a week and playing a single gig a month is not a job. You make $100 a month.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want a nine-to-five? I like my schedule the way it is.”

You could feel angry tears forming at the back of your eyes, stinging as you held them back, “You think I DO!? Yeonjun, I work sixty hours a week trying to keep us afloat. I pay for our food, our rent, our insurance, your fucking car! And I can’t even get you to pick up the damn apartment when I’m gone.” The tears started falling before you even realized it, shocking both of you. It had been a long time since he’d last seen you cry. Because you always chose either anger or an eerily calm response to his childishness. Knowing deep down that he wouldn’t be able to comfort you if you slipped into vulnerability. “I’m fucking tired Jun. This was my first day off in three months, and I spent it trying to get your car fixed. And I can’t even get a ‘thank you’ out of you. I don’t know how much longer I can do this. You aren’t nineteen anymore, and I think it’s time you grow the fuck up.”

He didn’t say anything. The anger in his face replaced by a mix of shock and awkward discomfort, one of a man who was embarrassed to even be in this situation.

You stayed like that for a beat, holding your breath, praying for the moment when he realized everything he’d done wrong. Where he woke up from the immature daze he’d been trapped in since you were teenagers. But you supposed that was all wishful thinking, the tension broken not by either of you, but by a honk from behind him. His bandmate was here to pick him up. 

He couldn’t even look you in the eyes. “We’ll talk about this later,” he mumbled before jogging up to his friend’s car and sliding into the passenger seat. You watched him give his friend one of their ridiculous handshakes, the sound of blaring music and feminine laughter spilling out into the parking lot before the car door slammed shut. The scene was so ironic in the face of everything he'd just yelled at you for that you really couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled up through your tears, bitter as acid on your tongue.

Yunho sat in his truck as he watched your asshole of a boyfriend leave the parking lot. He stayed like that for a while, watching you wipe at your tears and try to compose yourself. When you’d calmed down enough for his conscience to let him leave, he looked down at the passenger seat and noticed you had left your purse behind.

Grabbing the bag, he exited the truck and approached you. Trying his best not to startle you, he cleared his throat. 

Surprised by the sound, you turned around to find Yunho standing there awkwardly, holding out the purse you now realized was missing from your shoulders, “You left your bag.”

“Oh…thank you.” You mumbled, closing the distance and grabbing it from him with a bit more force than you meant to. The mechanic didn’t so much as flinch.

How could he when his heart hurt for you? This woman he could barely even claim to know. He hated the fact that you felt the need to respond defensively, the pain in your eyes, and how you could barely look at him. You shouldn’t feel ashamed of this. It wasn’t your fault. But Yunho knew without you having to say anything that you were incredibly embarrassed. 

“Listen–”

“Oh god. Please don’t”

His shoulders dropped, “I just wanted to–”

You lifted a hand to stop him, “Yunho, please. You’ve been so kind to me, and I really appreciate your help today. But please for the love of god don’t make me dump my relationship problems on you.”

“Hey now,” he said, holding both his hands up in a calming motion as he spoke in a voice so deep and steady in contrast to your own that it caught you by surprise, “I don’t mean to push or pry, Doll, you just look like you could use someone to talk to is all.”

“I just don’t want you to think down on me,” you sighed.

He looked at you sincerely, slipping the hat from his head and placing it on the hood of the truck, “Now, have I given you the impression that that’s somethin’ I would ever do?”

The appreciative smile you gave him almost made him melt. You leaned back against the side of his truck, tilting your head back until it hit the window with a soft thud, “I’m just so tired.”

Yunho slid next to you, awkwardly scuffing his boot into the pavement, “Would it be too rude to say I could tell?”

You chuckled, “I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I’ve been trying for years to get him to just put in an ounce of effort, but he won’t budge. But we’ve been together so long I don’t know if I have it in me to end things.”

“You know it’s not your job to teach him how to be an adult, right? He’s a grown-ass man. You shouldn’t have to beg him to help you out.” 

The somber look in your eyes when you looked up at him made Yunho want to pull you in and hug you to his chest, but he respected your boundaries. 

“I know. I just…” you trailed off, no longer finding it in yourself to argue for your relationship.

Yunho took a deep breath, bracing himself for what he wanted to get off his chest, “Look, Doll, I don’ wanna overstep or anything, but I’m gonna be blunt with you.” He paused, giving you room to tell him to stuff it and save it for someone else if you wanted to. But you were looking up at him expectantly, teary eyes nearly pushing his little speech clean out of his skull. He had to clear his throat a little before continuing. “The way that man treats you is just disgusting. For everything you do for him? The least he could do is make sure that your apartment is spotless and you never have to cook again. And I’m not saying it’s me who should give it to you, but you deserve worlds better than that.”

“Yeah…” was all you could get out before you felt a tear fall down your cheek, and you tried to wipe it away before Yunho saw. But of course he noticed.

Tentatively, he placed a hand on your shoulder in comfort, running his thumb along the fabric of your t-shirt. You surprised him, though, when you turned into him and started sobbing into his chest. Your fingers desperately gripping his button down.

“Oh sweetheart,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around you and rubbing your back. Holding you with so much warmth and sincerity that you felt safer than you had in years. In the arms of a stranger, no less.

general taglist: @swimmingkpopblog @oddracha

ateez taglist: @certifiedmoa @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @curiousgworge @hyukssunflower @hotteokisms

@sushiinmidnight @atiny-dime-p1ece @mismatchfluffysocks @vic0921 @vampzity

@breadpuddingboys @woolysium @desirehorizon @im-ovulation @pommelex

@dancingwithdeities @maidens-world

ok cowboy: @saintriots @ateezswonderland @fairyofhueningkai

[mikashisus]

MAY THE WIND PROTECT YOU

SYNOPSIS: kinich recalls each time he heard you speak mondstadtian, each memory making him miss you more than the last. meanwhile, you return home to mondstadt.

PAIRING: kinich x gn!reader

TAGLIST ! @aphrodict @wystiix @tragedy-of-commons @pixelcafe-network @papiliotao

contains: poorly translated german, ajaw, intense pining (on both sides), down bad kinich, last part is not edited

word count: 4.4k

notes: THIS IS A PART 2!! writing this was sm fun guys, i had a field day with each scene. i wanted to post this yesterday on his bday, but gwen told me it'd be such a power move if i posted it today bc today is MY bday, so that's what i'm doing >:) crazy that his bday is a day before mine.

i was listening to this ost the entire time i was writing the mond scenes. when the mc mentioned the lullaby, that song is what i was referring to! anyw enjoy! TY ZIRA FOR PROOFREADING!!

part one!

The first time Kinich heard you speak in Mondstadt’s native tongue was two weeks after you arrived in Natlan. 

A merchant from Mondstadt had set up shop at the Stadium of the Sacred Flame. By pure chance, Kinich had been showing you around the Stadium that day. 

(Somehow, it slipped his mind that you were from Mondstadt— despite the fact that you unintentionally made it abundantly clear you were a foreigner by the way you dressed and your poor attempt to speak the language of Natlan.) 

As soon as you set your sights on the merchant’s wares, you were sprinting over to his stall, eagerly shouting in what sounded like an aggressive tone to the people around you. Kinich followed, worry pooling in his gut at the sudden commotion you just made. 

All your worries about wanting to set a good first impression had been thrown out the window the moment you saw a familiar face. With the way you and the merchant were animatedly speaking, anyone passing by would’ve assumed you were lifelong friends. However, that was not the case. 

Mondstadters were well known for being extremely welcoming and hospitable, especially within their own nation. Anyone who ever traveled there always put in a good word about their stay, claiming that although the nation’s ways of greeting foreigners was a bit odd, the entire populace had this unique charm that made everyone instantly feel at home there. Paired with the ever-flowing wind and the ideals of freedom and peace, Mondstadt seemed to be a true paradise. 

The few merchants Kinich had run into in the past were fairly kind people, though there was always this edge to them that made them feel a bit aggressive. Maybe it was their way of speaking… or their blunt honesty. 

Joining your side, Kinich realized you weren’t speaking the universal language of Teyvat anymore, and that now, you were speaking a language that sounded rough and throaty.

This must’ve been the language of Mondstadt. He only ever heard a few words here and there in passing through merchants he met in the past. 

He couldn’t understand a word you were saying, but he liked hearing your voice in its primitive state. 

The merchant made a gesture towards you, and you threw your head back in raucous laughter. Kinich wondered what you were talking about. A few moments later, he heard the words ‘Dornman Port’ fall from your lips, and he assumed that the topic shifted to where you were from. 

“It’s not everyday you see a Mondstadter down here in the South! Where are you from?” 

“Dornman Port!“ You answered eagerly, ”my family’s been living there for generations, but recently my grandparents moved to the city to get better access to healthcare.” 

“Ah, I see. No wonder your accent sounded familiar! My family’s a bit North of Dornman, more inland towards—“ 

From the excited way you two were speaking, Kinich guessed based on context clues that you and this merchant were from the same hometown.

Finally, you seemed to turn your attention back to the merchant’s wares, and your eyes practically sparkled once you set your sights on his entire alcohol supply. 

(You weren’t a true child of Mondstadt if you didn’t cherish your booze.) 

Pointing to a vintage bottle of something that was labeled in Mondstadt’s native tongue, you fished some mora out of your satchel.

“I haven’t seen many Mondstadters down here,” you said, resuming your earlier conversation, “not that we can’t travel to other nations, I just mean—“ 

“It’s strange?” The merchant finished your sentence. “I get that a lot from the locals. Usually, Fontainians visit Natlan the most, though I suppose that’s not too surprising. The hot springs are great!” 

“Speaking of Fontaine, I was suspected of being Fontainian my first year here. The looks on the locals’ faces after hearing I’m from the Crown of the North were priceless!”  

You took the bottle of Dandelion Wine and smiled. “I bet! I got questioned a bit too on my arrival a few weeks back.” 

He eyed the journal in your hands. “Akademiya student?” 

“Yes, sir! Vahumana Darshan!” You nodded. “I’ll be here in Natlan for six months to work on my thesis.” 

Glancing at Kinich, you suddenly felt a pang of guilt rush through you. Unintentionally, you had been making him wait this whole time. You quickly wrapped up your conversation with the merchant, explaining that Kinich was your ‘tour guide’ and you had to leave. 

“Good luck with your studies!” The merchant shook your hand, his grip firm. It reminded you of your father’s handshakes. “Let the Wind lead, youngster.” 

“Danke! May the Anemo Archon bless you! Tschüss!” 

The second time Kinich heard you speak in Mondstadt’s native tongue was when a yumkasaur had stolen your journal and decided not to give it back. 

(He didn’t think he’d ever heard someone curse so much in his life— aside from Ajaw.)

Although he couldn’t understand what you were saying, he just knew you were cursing that yumkasaur to the high heavens. And as soon as he helped you get your journal back, you cursed the yumkasaur out again as it hissed at you and flew away. 

It took a heavy amount of restraint for Kinich not to burst out laughing. You could’ve sworn a small snort had escaped from his lips as he raised a hand to cover his mouth, but that was the least of your priorities. 

Your main focus was on the big chunk taken out of your journal. 

A few pages of your journal were missing, meaning you had to rewrite three pages (front and back) of all the research you found in some Dahri ruins nearby the Scions of the Canopy. 

To say you had been angry was an understatement. You hadn’t stopped rambling in Mondstadtian for the rest of the week, and Kinich was more than a little worried you were going to throw yourself off the balcony outside your villa. 

(You didn’t, but other people from his tribe did say you spent the remainder of the week in those ruins — which, to be frank, was concerning considering you always outright refused to go exploring during the day. 

When he found you, you were mumbling to yourself and teetering on the edge of becoming someone’s sleep paralysis demon. Long story short, he had to drag you back to your villa.)

Needless to say, that was a fond memory of his, despite your imminent despair that entire week. 

It had been five months since you returned to Sumeru. Five grueling months of convincing himself he didn’t miss you as much as he truly did. 

There was a significant decline in his mood since then. 

Ever since he walked you to the borders between the Children of Echoes’ settlement and the Sumeru desert— where an escort from the Eremites was waiting (he remembered you addressing her as ‘Dehya’) —he’d been all down in the dumps. 

At first, Ajaw had a field day teasing him, until eventually, the mini pixelated dragon got tired of his sour attitude and stopped mentioning you altogether. 

One mention of you and Kinich became snappy and pissy. If he saw something that reminded him of you, he began sulking like a kicked puppy. It was amusing to Ajaw… at first. But as time dragged on, it just made him more and more annoyed. 

(“Are they all you think about!?” Ajaw screamed once after Kinich bought a bottle of Dandelion Wine from that merchant you would always talk to. 

Kinich didn’t answer, but the pout on his lips was enough to make it clear to anyone that yes… you were all he thought about.) 

He found himself back at the same merchant’s stall, immediately putting Ajaw in timeout before he could even utter a word. 

The Mondstadt merchant greeted Kinich with a firm, friendly handshake. “Welcome back! Did you enjoy the Dandelion Wine?” 

Kinich nodded curtly. “Yes. It was quite good. My tribe enjoyed it, as well.” He paused. “Where was it made?” 

The merchant’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. He probably wasn’t expecting that question. He stroked his chin. “Well, you’ve probably heard of it if you’re a wine lover, but most alcoholic beverages from Mondstadt are brewed by the famous Dawn Winery.” 

Kinich had heard of it, though only in passing from merchants. 

“The Dawn Winery’s the reason Mondstadt’s even known as the wine capital of Teyvat. Without the winery, Master Diluc, Mondstadt’s fertile soil, and the wine brewing methods taught to us by Lord Barbatos, we wouldn’t be where we are today.” 

“The Anemo Archon taught you how to brew wine?” Kinich raised a brow. 

The merchant nodded. “Why, of course! Back when the people of Mondstadt migrated to Cider Lake, Lord Barbatos taught our ancestors the intricacies of wine making, and over time, his original technique had been refined into what it is today!” 

Interesting. So that was how Mondstadt’s wine business began. 

“We even have wine festivals to honor Lord Barbatos,” the merchant continued, piquing Kinich’s curiosity, “Weinlesefest is the most common. Every harvest, families come together to brew wine and offer it up to Lord Barbatos as a sort of ‘welcome home’ gift for the western wind. If he’s satisfied with the wine, he blesses us with a refreshing breeze.” 

Weinlesefest. He heard you talk about it once in passing with a different merchant. He couldn’t understand what you were saying, as you had been speaking Mondstadtian, but he knew it had to do with a festival; seeing as it was one of the first things the merchant had brought up in conversation. 

“I see.” Kinich nodded curtly, making a mental note to ask you about the Weinlesefest in his next letter. “So… does the whole nation celebrate?” 

The merchant nodded. “Yep! It’s a time of gathering together with family and friends. Mondstadters living away from home usually come back for Weinlesefest.” He let out a heavy sigh. “In fact, it’s happening right now. But work is work, so I can’t visit my wife and kids. I can only hope Lord Barbatos will keep them safe in my absence.” 

Kinich was slowly learning how Mondstadt worked the more and more he talked with Mondstadters. He sent a small smile to the merchant and bought three bottles of wine this time, even going as far as to pay extra. 

“I hope you can return home soon and see your family.” A small pang of something bitter settled in his chest. 

Family. 

“Tschüss.” He muttered, the word feeling odd and unusual on his tongue. 

The merchant’s face lit up with pure, unbridled joy. He shook Kinich’s hand once more, firmer and more enthusiastically than the other times. It was obvious Kinich had just made this man’s day, even if it was something so simple as saying ‘goodbye’ in his language. 

“Tschüss!” 

That night, he sat on his bed, writing out another letter. He occasionally glanced at the last one you had sent him, his fingers gently tracing your elegant handwriting. 

(Name), 

I visited the Stadium today to receive a commission. The merchant you always talk to, Klaus?? was there again. He told me the history behind wine making in Mondstadt. 

It’s interesting that your Archon taught you that. He also mentioned that Weinlesefest is happening right now. I remember you mentioning that festival a few times before. Did you go home for the festival? What does your family do to celebrate? Speaking of… how is your family? And your grandparents?

Everything is going well in the Scions of the Canopy. We’re recovering from the losses of the war, along with the nation as a whole, but there is still a large scar. The toll will be great for a while, but all we can do is move forward and honor the fallen. 

You don’t need to worry about us, by the way. Mavuika is strong. Speaking of Mavuika, she’ll be heading off for the final fight in a few weeks’ time. Everyone’s antsy, but we know she’ll pull through. She isn’t the Archon for nothing. 

-Kinich 

P.S. - Mualani insisted on taking you to visit the People of the Springs the next time you’re here… but knowing you, I don’t think you’ll like the hot springs :P 

P.P.S. U BETER RETURN IN 1 PEACE LOWKY HOOMAN OR I W1LL  KILL U  >:( -AJAW

The day your vacation was confirmed, you jumped for joy right in the middle of the House of Daena. It earned you a halfhearted glare from Alhaitham, the Akademiya’s scribe, but you didn’t care in the slightest. You were just happy you finally got your much needed vacation. 

You weren’t close with the scribe. Your relationship was far from anything like that, but you saw him enough on a daily basis to consider him an acquaintance. He often occupied a table in the House of Daena, either reading a book or writing furiously in a notebook. 

There were a few times you visited his office to drop off parts of your thesis for peer review, though he was never there when you did. His office hours were listed right next to the door in bold letters, yet he was never present for them. It made you raise a brow and wonder how he was even still employed if he never even showed up for his required office hours. 

Though, he did give you the proper feedback you needed for your thesis, so you couldn’t really complain. 

“I didn’t know you oversaw vacation notices,” you said, glancing up at your senior as he stood next to you. “I thought your only job was to record things for the Akademiya. Oh! That reminds me, when is my thesis presentation?” 

He sighed. “Being the scribe is more complicated than that. And yes, all proposals for vacations go straight to my office from the drop box.” 

You hummed. “So like, how does that work? Do you just check a box that says ‘yes’ or ‘no’?” 

“If the proposal was sent in during a break period, then it gets approved. Any proposals sent in after the break period are denied. The presentation for your thesis is scheduled for three months from now in the Vahumana Lecture Hall at two o’clock sharp. The Dendro Archon will be present alongside the Vahumana Sage and the Grand Sage. Be prepared to answer any and all questions from all of them.” 

“Yeah yeah yeah,” you waved him off dismissively, “I already received that info in my mailbox.” 

Three months from now… Did you have anything planned for that day? You thought it over. 

“Shit.” You muttered.

“Something wrong?” Alhaitham questioned, his arms crossing over his chest. 

“My hometown has its annual food festival that week… Ah, well, there’s always next year.” It still stung, though. It would be the first time you missed it. “Besides, I’ll be home for Weinlesefest, so that should be enough.” 

Your parents would be upset, but they’d understand. Your thesis was a big deal, after all. As long as you were home for Weinlesefest, you knew they wouldn’t mind you missing out on Dornman Port’s annual food fest. 

You stood up and grabbed your bag. “Well, I should pack. And mail my letter before I leave.” 

“I’ll be stopping off at Port Ormos later. I can mail it for you.” Alhaitham offered. 

Although he didn’t show it, Alhaitham was kind. This was something you had to learn the hard way after a few misunderstandings. He had his own way of showing kindness, and it was often through his actions rather than his words. 

“Really? That’d be awesome! I have so much to do before I leave, I was beginning to think I wouldn’t be able to make it to the mailing office.” You dug through your bag and pulled out a letter, handing it to him. 

His eyes scanned the envelope, his brow raising slightly in surprise. He shot you a knowing look, but he didn’t pry. 

“Thanks, Scribe!” 

“Alhaitham.” He corrected, nodding curtly before taking his leave. 

You smiled as you watched him go. Friendship with the scribe: secured! 

The boat ride home to Dornman Port was long and grueling, but the crew was friendly and had a good sense of humor. You found yourself making a few new friends in unexpected places. 

The soft breeze of eternal Spring shifted to a biting chill in the air as the boat neared your beloved hometown. The wind whipped violently, howling like the infamous Wolf King of Wolvendom. 

Up North, the winds were harsher and colder. There was a legend in your hometown— that a god ruling over this section of land during the Archon War had died with many regrets, and therefore, cursed the land with a wintry wind that would never cease. 

Whether or not that had been true was a mystery. The god’s name was long forgotten from Mondstadt, and so too was their legacy. The only person who could possibly provide evidence to those events would be the Anemo Archon himself. 

The boat docked and the sailors let out heavy sighs of relief. One clapped you on the back cheerfully. 

“How’s it feel to be home?” He questioned, a big smile on his face as he kicked a wooden plank onto the docks. 

You smiled, inhaling the cold air you missed oh so much. The same air that you had been longing to feel on your skin for months. 

“Good… great, actually!” you answered, thanking him as he helped you off the boat. 

You looked around, taking in the sight of the familiar bustling port with navy rooftops and tightly packed houses. Lanterns were strung between lampposts, ornate garland hung from the sides of houses and wrapped around streetlights. Market stalls occupied every corner, accompanied by the occasional yell of a merchant trying to sell their wares. 

Dandelions were blown up into the air as children roamed the streets, waving around wooden swords and weaving between adults’ legs. A stray dog followed behind the group, barking happily. 

The sweet tune of a lyre and a flute rang in your ears from a distance, and you quickly realized it was that same familiar Dornman lullaby that all Mondstadtians knew by heart— specifically those of you born in the far North. The song was soothing and nostalgic to your ears, opening the floodgates to a whole range of memories from your childhood. 

You inhaled the biting air again, this time with your eyes closed. “Yeah… it’s more than great to be home.” 

The sailors bid you farewell, claiming they’d see you again once you returned to Sumeru. Enthusiastically giving them your goodbyes, you watched as they loaded trade goods onto their ship before taking your leave. 

Dornman was exactly how you left it: serene yet lively. 

You stopped to chat with a few of the elders, greeting them excitedly. They asked about your studies, how your thesis was coming along, and wished you luck in your future endeavors. 

Passing by a group of kids you swore were only a few apples tall the last time you saw them, they called out to you and asked if you brought any souvenirs back for them. Showing them your empty hands, they began to pout and call you old as you playfully threatened to kick their asses. 

They ran away giggling, pretending to scream at the ‘scary monster they provoked.’ 

Shaking your head with a smile, you continued on your walk home, greeting other familiar faces as you did so.

Tucked away behind a few hills and farther from the main streets of the port, was your parents’ house. Seeing the same, old rickety wooden gate still standing tall was a surprise. You could’ve sworn that thing had fallen by now, but it was still here, on its last leg. 

The eager barking of two dogs could be heard as you unlocked the gate and walked up the stone path. Spotting the beds of flowers outside the windows, you smiled. It seemed as though your father had been participating in his yearly flower competition again with the old ladies that lived just down the road. 

You leaned down to take in the smell of the fresh cecilias, your favorite. 

The old door of your home hadn’t changed, and the decorative basket of flowers hanging from the front hadn’t either. You picked up the handle of the dove doorknocker and waited, listening as the sounds of barking got louder and louder. 

A series of locks clicked before the door swung open and two black and brown dogs came tumbling out, knocking you onto the stone path. You laughed as they licked your face, excited for your return. 

“Millie! Hashbrown!” You hugged each of them, placing kisses on their heads before you stood back up. 

Your father embraced you, hugging you tightly. You returned the hug, smiling as you pulled away. He took your bags from you and ushered you inside, claiming your mother had baked a few pies to celebrate your return home. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent catching up with your family, telling them all about your studies in the Akademiya and your long trip in Natlan. You told them about Kinich, a man from the Scions of the Canopy. 

That’s when your mother sent you a knowing look. Nothing ever escaped her know, especially when it had to do with crushes. You assumed it was because of that rumored sixth sense that all mothers possessed. Or maybe the smile on your face as you talked about Kinich was just too obvious. 

You told them how you and Kinich wrote letters to each other as much as you could, though it was getting harder for you to keep that up when exams had rolled around. 

“Speaking of mail,” your father interrupted, standing up, “we received a letter a few hours ago from a ‘Kinich.’” 

He handed you the envelope and you snatched it from his hands, ignoring the way he snickered at you as you did so. He took another sip of his beer and sighed. 

“Oh, and there was a package too!” He rummaged around on the kitchen table before handing you a tightly wrapped package. 

Confused, you took it. You had no idea what could even be inside it, but assuming it had arrived at the same time as Kinich’s letter, you guessed it was from him. Your mother stood up. 

“Let’s give them some privacy, dear.” She patted your father’s chest and ushered your siblings out of the room before sending you a wink. 

You rolled your eyes and opened the envelope, smiling absentmindedly at Kinich’s somewhat messy handwriting and the complete scribbles at the bottom of the page that were nearly indecipherable. Judging by the chicken scratch, you deduced the last message had been from Ajaw. 

You ripped open the package and set aside the note. Inside was a handmade blanket with a small note that claimed it was made by the Flower Feather Clan. 

You admired the swirling designs and hugged it to your chest. So he had remembered how much you loved blankets. Receiving such a high quality gift meant the world to you, as did the thought of him going to such lengths to have it handmade just for you. 

Digging through to the bottom of the box, you found a neatly wrapped vintage bottle of Dandelion Wine, silently cheering. You’d enjoy this with your family during the rest of the festival.

One last item sat at the bottom, so small you almost overlooked it. Pulling it out, you slipped it out of the velvet bag it was in and your jaw dropped. A gold necklace with purple and blue crystals fell into your palm, cold to the touch. 

Based on the fine craftsmanship, you could tell it had been crafted by a blacksmith from the Children of Echoes, and the crystals had been from the Masters of the Night Wind. 

Kinich really didn’t have to get you all this. Was there some sort of special occasion, or had he just wanted to send you gifts? You weren’t sure, but you were already thinking of some Mondstadt specialties you could send him in return. 

Heading up to your bedroom, you placed the gifts on your bed and grabbed a piece of paper from your desk. You sat down near the windowsill and unclasped the latch, pushing your window open. A cold breeze wafted inside, the scent of dandelions invading your room. The wind chimes hanging from your window sang in the wind, their sound comforting to your ears. 

You began to write. 

Dear Kinich, 

Thank you for all your thoughtful gifts!! Based on the fact you mentioned Klaus in your letter, I’m guessing you bought the Dandelion Wine off him, didn’t you? 

Pass on my regards to him! Möge der Wind dich beschützen! 

Weinlesefest has officially kicked off! Unfortunately, I missed the opening ceremony in the city, but tomorrow we’ll be opening the wines in my hometown! At least I haven’t missed that! The opening of the wines is the most important part of Weinlesefest, as it honors Lord Barbatos. 

My family is doing great as ever! Same old, same old, honestly. I’ll be seeing my grandparents in a few days, as my family will be taking a trip to the city to celebrate the festival with them! Unfortunately, I have to go back to the Akademiya in a week to continue my studies and refine my thesis per the Scribe’s suggestions. I wish I could be home longer, but school is school :( 

I’m glad to hear everything has blown over somewhat smoothly and all of you are safe. I can’t imagine everything you’ve had to witness, but I’ll offer up prayers of my own for the fallen (is that okay? That isn’t insensitive right…? Please tell me if it is). 

I hope the healing and rebuilding is going smoothly. If I was there, I would help in a heartbeat. Oh! I have an architect acquaintance in Sumeru! Maybe he and his team could help…? Say the word, and I’ll request his help! 

NO, I think I would melt into a puddle if I ever even stepped FOOT into those hot springs… Sorry Mualani, but I’m good… I’d rather stay in the brisk trees of the Scions of the Canopy.

Thank you once again for the gifts. I’ll cherish them. 

Mögen die Feuer von Natlan immer brennen. 

Sincerely, 

(Name) 

P.S. I’ll return back safely to you, Ajaw. Don’t worry! :)

notes: including all the german words were sm fun to do bc i'm german (not too familiar with the language but i'm in the process of learning!) and i am a firm believer that teyvat has their own languages, and dialects within those languages. some translations: danke = thank you, tschüss = goodbye, Möge der Wind dich beschützen = may the wind protect you, Mögen die Feuer von Natlan immer brennen = may the fires of natlan stay ever burning

© 2024 mikashisus. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[getosbigballsack]

Random thought! - Husband Gojo x Wife Reader-chan #inside the diary

Hear me out! Gojo read your thoughts in your diary and came to realize that he was a terrible husband to you.

He knew he was a good lay, hence the reason he managed to knock you up three times. But as of lately, he came to realize that you weren't interested in having sex with him.

At first, he thought it was just because you were too tired, having to take care of the kids while he works, all day by yourself (in which he understands, and he praises you for being such a wonderful mother).

But that wasn't the case. He just happened to come home early from work while you were out shopping with the kids, and he got a hold of your diary.

Interestingly, he took it upon himself to skim through the pages of your book, just to see what's inside your little head. Nothing out of the ordinary, just little notes and reminders to yourself about the task you had to complete and a few words of encouragement here and there.

He usually doesn't read through your thoughts, always thinking that if you had an issue you'd come and talk to him, so he was about to put your diary back where he found it because he didn't want to pry further into your thoughts, but that's until one page in particular caught his eye.

I find it difficult to enjoy sex with my husband nowadays and I don't know why?

Words in blue handwriting are written beautifully on the paper. He kept on reading, and as he continued to move further down the line, he felt his heart break.

It’s just me, but I don't think I'm attractive enough to have sex with my husband.

I wanted to suggest the last time we had sex [that was a month ago], but I didn't wanna ruin the moment for him because he looked like he was having fun.

Satoru came home today and wanted to have sex. I told him no. He never forced himself on me. He only kissed me goodnight and left to go sleep in the guest room. I know he was upset but did he really have to leave?

It's been 2 months, and Satoru hasn't tried touching me since that night. Am I not worthy of loving anymore? He doesn't even buy me flowers anymore or take me out on dates.

He doesn't compliment me anymore, doesn't tell me that I'm beautiful. He doesn’t even call me baby girl, doll or even honey.

No more I love you, only kisses to the forehead and peck on the lips before he leaves for work in the morning.

He comes home late, I'm always alone with the kids, no more family dinners, no more kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom conversations. No more late-night kisses, no more holding me tightly in his arms while he sleeps.

Does he not want me anymore?

Sometimes I wanna visit his office with the children but I’m afraid that he’ll find my presence a bit annoying. I feel lonely without him here with me.

I should've said yes that night and spread my legs for him,

That's my duty as his wife.

To have fulfilled all my husband's needs without complaint.

But it hurts to have sex, I'm just not in the mood. I'm too tired, I just need my husband to hold me, but he's not there.

I can't complain, he's the reason I don't have to work.

But is it so bad to ask my husband to love me without having the need to touch me?

The last entry to your diary reads.

I'm going to do it today, bare the pain and have sex with my husband, just so that I can feel his love once again. 

Now he knows the real reason you won’t have intercourse with him, or let's say the reason you don’t enjoy having sex with him. You feel as though he doesn’t love you anymore, and he needs to fix that. So, until he can figure out a way to prove to you just how much he loves you, he’ll have to deprive himself of your warm loving touch. 

Later in the day when you came home with the kids, you saw your husband cooking up a storm in the kitchen. “Hey baby girl, want something to eat? It’s been a while hasn’t it.” too stunned to even say a word, you just watched as your kids, ages 3, 4 and 6 ran over to their dad and engulfed him in a big hug. He giggled and stopped whatever he was doing to bend to his children’s height and kissed every single of them on their cheeks. “Hey boys. Did you all take your mom out shopping today?” Oh, that’s right you’re a boy mom. You managed to pop three boys, all of them came out looking just like their dad, especially your eldest son. 

The boys chatted away with their dad until he excused himself and walked over to you and wrapped his arms tightly around your body. You're in a state of shock, unable to move for a moment until he whispers, “can I get a hug back?” and you did give him a hug. 

“Welcome home, have a seat, dinner’s almost ready. I cooked vegetable curry today, I know it’s your favourite,” and indeed it is your favourite. For the rest of the day, he spent time in the kitchen cooking while chatting with his kids, not without taking small glances at you. You all ate dinner together, got the kids ready for bed when night falls, before preparing for bed yourselves. 

You remembered that you wrote in your diary that you were about to try and have sex with your husband, all for the sake of feeling his love again, but that didn’t happen. Instead, you found your husband already waiting for you on the bed, fully dressed in pjs, a cup of your favourite tea in his hand and a warm loving smile on his face. 

He immediately started up a conversation with you, asking you about your day and your trip to the shopping centre. You had no clue what was going on inside your husband’s head, but it’s been a while since he last sat down and had small conversations like these, and you weren’t about to miss this opportunity. 

So with a smile on your face, you told everything that happened today and even the fact that you had to buy a bag of grapes you had no intentions of buying, but you did so because your 3 year old son stole and ate a few while you picked up a bag of oranges. The conversation went all a while until he sighed. 

“Y/N,” he whispered in a serious tone. “We need to talk. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I can’t bear the fact that my wife would be going to bed with doubts about our relationship and my love for you.”

You swallow thickly and rest your now empty cup against the nightstand before turning to face your husband fully. He reached his hand out for you, and you gently placed your left hand in his. He wrapped his large hand around your finger and gently pulled you until you were straddling his lips. You swallowed that thick lump yet again, before whispering, “So what is it that we need to talk about.”

“Why do you always refuse to communicate your feelings with me?” he asked as he let go of your hand and wrapped both hands around your waist and rested his head up against your chest. “I know I haven’t been a good husband to you these past few months, but I don’t want you to think that I don’t love you or that you’re not worthy of loving.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

He sighed heavily before taking a deep breath. “I found your diary in the living room when I got home, and I read through your notes.” Your body tensed up in his lap, your mind immediately racing towards negative thoughts. Is he angry? Why did you have to carelessly leave your diary out in the open for him to see. 

“Oh!”

“I’m sorry for reading through your diary, but I’m happy that I did because my wife won’t communicate with me,” he said with a frustrated sigh. 

You frowned, “Would you have listened even if I tried?”

“I would’ve dropped everything and listened to whatever it is that you have to say. I know it's my duty to ensure that my wife is living her best happy life, and that it’s also my responsibility to take care of your wellbeing, but I can’t always know what's going on with you if you don’t communicate with me.” 

Communication on your end has always been a big issue in your relationship with your husband. It bothered him and he’d hope that after a while you would’ve grown out of your bad habit, but he guess he’s wrong, because here you are now after 8 years of being a relationship total and that includes the four years of marriage, and 3 kids later, you still struggling to figure out a way to communicate your feelings with him. 

“I broke my heart when I read that you thought that as my wife, your duty is to only provide for me sexually or even the fact that you don’t think that you’re attractive enough to have sex with me. What hurts me the most is that you have so many doubts about my love for you. Y/N you know that I love you right?”

“I do,” your voice trembled slightly as you answered. 

“Then why are you doubting my feelings for you? I apologise for leaving you to sleep in the guest room that night, it was wrong of me to be upset all because you told me no.” There was a moment of silence, you figured he was waiting for a response in which you never gave.

“I know I don’t say this as much as I need to, but I love you. I LOVE YOU so very much. I love you as my best friend, my wife and I love you even more as the mother of my children.” Tears started to obstruct your vision as you stared off at your wedding portrait that was above your bed and listened as your husband poured his hurt out to you. 

“I need you to stop thinking that you are not worthy of loving because you are more than worthy. You’re an amazing woman, an amazing wife, and an amazing mother to our children. Just the fact that you're a mother makes you worthy of loving.” 

“Satoru… I- I,” you stuttered, trying to formulate the words inside your mouth, but even if you did, what are you going to say to your husband? You had not one clue. 

“I’m not a mind reader Y/N, so you need to start communicating your feelings with me, because if you don’t tell me, I’m not going to always know,” he said to you as he snuggled his head against your chest. 

“I- I’ll do better.” 

“I’m happy to hear that, and I promise to show you just how much I love you and do whatever it is to ensure that my wife is happy, because your happiness means the most to me. I’ll get you those flowers you want, and I’ll try my best to buy you loads of flowers in the future. And about visiting my office.”

“Yes?” you said. 

“I would love for you to pop up at my office one day with the kids and surprise me. My workers have been dying to meet my beautiful wife and children. And about the late-night work meetings. I can’t promise you that there won’t be any more late-night meetings, but I'll do my best to get home as early as I can to be with you and the kids. I don’t want you to feel as though I’ve abandoned you with the kids. I’ll take a few days off from work too and take the ends out. You’re right we barely have family time.”

“Thank you,” you said smiling as you allowed those tears to run down your cheeks. 

“I’ll do better as your husband. It wasn't my intention to not cuddle and hold you tightly while we sleep. Baby you know you can always smack me in the head or do that cute silly little thing you do and crawl underneath my arms if you want to cuddle with me,” he said to you, and you let out a small giggle. 

He chuckled too as he removed one hand from around your waist to cradle your cheek. “Lastly, this is about our sex life. If I make you feel physical pain, or uncomfortable at any time during intercourse you need to let me know because the last thing I want to do is hurt you. In your diary you said that you wanted to suggest the last time we had sex. I want you to tell me what it is.”

Your face heated up immediately, why would he have to bring that up now. Couldn’t he have waited until a better time. But nonetheless despite the obvious look of embarrassment on your face you whispered, “I was wondering if… if…”

“Yes?” 

“I was wondering if we could try something outside the usual vanilla sex,” you said to him, and he cocked his eyebrow towards you. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy vanilla sex, I love having vanilla sex with you and you know how to be rough when you need to be. But I thought it would be nice if we could do something different.” 

“What do you suggest?” he asked with a sunning grin on his face. 

“Maybe we could try using some sex toys.” 

“Sex toys heh?” he said, and you quickly covered up your face with your hands. “I’m open, I don’t mind getting a few sex toys here and there for us to use. I can order us a few online on another day.”

“Ok…”

“Good girl. I love you.” he whispered as he kissed your lips. "I promise I'll be a better husband for you."

“I love you too, Satoru.”