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onlyhuis · 5 months

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love thy neighbor

member — fwb! neighbor!joshua x f reader genre — smut, light angst, college au, idiots to lovers, happy ending word count — 5.1k synopsis — there's perks to having your fwb live next door to you, but there's also downsides. like the fact that it's really hard to hide that you're in love with him. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, one mention of periods, masturbation (both reader & joshua), the smut is REALLY quick, premature ejaculation sort of, a little bit of body worship, nicknames (baby, good girl), not really described but implied creampie, they are idiots and they are in love and it's gross and sweet notes — tysm to @wongyuseokie & @onlymingyus for help choosing the banner <3 and thanks to @petrichor-han for this idea !! fun fact this was originally going to be for skz han but i figured it would also make a great shua fic so i chose him instead. fun fact #2 i am addicted to giving shua's fics religious titles even when there's no mention of religion in the fic at all lmao. it gives me a giggle like how could i not when it fits so well?? also this is one of my few attempts at angst so if you liked this please reblog or send and ask and lmk how you liked it! hope you enjoy!!

joshua should be asleep right now.

really, he should. it’s 11pm on a sunday night and he’s got his chemistry lab at 8am tomorrow, and he’s still got a couple of assignments that he really needs to catch up on before the final next week.

but then there's that bump against the wall that he’s grown so accustomed to, and his eyes fly open.

maybe becoming fuck buddies with your next-door neighbor isn't the smartest idea he's ever had, because this is the fourth time this week he's had to hear your moans as he tries to fall asleep.

the walls are thin, but he's certain that you must not realize just how thin they are, because he can hear every sound you make as clear as day. every whimper, every buzz of your vibrator, even every moan of his name, barely muffled by the wall separating his room from yours. especially every moan of his name. and it’s been driving him insane.

really, it’s his own fault for trying to be a polite neighbor. he almost wishes that he hadn’t run into you when you’d moved into the apartment next door at the beginning of the semester, because then he probably wouldn’t have recognized you at that party during homecoming weekend and got to talking with you.

and because of that he probably wouldn’t have taken you home from said party and given you the best dicking down of your life (your words, not his), and then after that you probably wouldn’t have decided that you wanted to keep fucking him and agreed to become friends with benefits.

except he doesn’t actually wish that at all.

having your situationship live right next door is pretty convenient, after all. you’ll shoot him an “omw” text and be waiting at his front door seconds later. he forgot to bring condoms? it’ll just take a sec to run home and grab some. when you accidentally leave your panties in his apartment, he can drop them off the same day and then forget about it (he definitely won’t).

he could probably even just bang on his side of the wall and you’d know to come over, but to him that’s a little too far, too impolite. he at least has the decency to send a text first.

a part of him wonders if that’s why you’re so noisy at night, if you’re doing it on purpose and knowing he’ll hear it, secretly hoping for him to come knocking at your door. but he doesn’t want to assume, doesn’t want to show up without asking and realize he’s been completely wrong this whole time and make himself look like a fool.

so he settles for earplugs instead. because there’s no way he can sit there and listen to the sounds you make and not start thinking about all the times he’s been in your bed with you just inches away. and by the time he’s cum all over his fist and he’s finally worn himself out enough to fall asleep, it’s 4am and he has class in the morning and he’s wasted an entire night yet again.

he’s been inside your apartment dozens of times, enough to know the layout by heart. enough to know that your bedroom sits directly next to his, enough to know that your bed is pushed against that very thin wall the same way his is and that your nightstand with the drawer full of toys is right next to the bed.

oh, he’s gotten to know more than just your apartment over the course of the semester. he knows which positions are your favorite (you’ve never told him outright, but you always cum harder when he fucks you in missionary). he knows the names you like to be called and the ones you like to call him. he can even tell which vibrator you’re using right now (the red one doesn’t buzz as loud, so you only use it when your favorite purple one is dead. tonight you’re using the purple one.)

but he’s also gotten to know the way you smile when you see a cat video, the way your forehead wrinkles when you talk about your calculus professor, and the way you like your pancakes in the morning (though he’s never been able to make them for you himself, he swears one day he will. one slice of butter, a ton of syrup, and a handful of cut up strawberries.)

so maybe that’s what makes these nights so unbearable. he can keep lying to himself that it doesn’t bother him, that it wouldn’t bother him as much as it does if he just… didn’t like you.

but, unfortunately, he does like you. and he’s stuck with this problem until he finds a way to fix it, but just like in the lab analyses he has to write every week, he’s got no ideas. so he’ll have to settle for fucking his hand and biting his pillow so you don’t get suspicious of the noises he’s making, and hope that his silly little crush goes away on its own.

after all, he isn’t anything to you. albeit a sexual one, he’s still just a friend. and he’s certain that’s all you want.

god, you wish that joshua could see you right now. you’re certain he’d love it.

earlier tonight you’d had to physically force yourself to turn your phone off so that you wouldn’t be tempted to text him to come over. you’d already texted him on monday night and thursday afternoon, and you’d knocked on his door on saturday at practically the crack of dawn because you’d woken up thinking about him.

were you embarrassed about it? absolutely, but that wasn’t enough to stop you. okay, maybe sometimes it was, because the girl who lived across the hall had caught you (on multiple occasions) sneaking out of joshua’s apartment twice in one day and you refused to meet him again for nearly a week after that.

but joshua didn’t seem one bit embarrassed by your arrangement. he always gave you a friendly smile and offered to walk you to your door afterwards, which you always declined, and he always made sure to say he looked forward to seeing you again. you even saw him wave at the nosy neighbor girl when he’d left your apartment once (which you only remembered because you’d spent the rest of the night in tears about it, but not that you were jealous about it or anything).

you felt bad enough meeting up with him so often, but you felt even worse that you didn’t even have a label to show for it. you knew it was probably exactly what he’d wanted out of this, just somebody to call for a quick fuck, but it made you mad. it was why you got so angry about the girl across the hall; because you knew everybody loved joshua, so of course he couldn’t love only you.

he was hot and he was in a frat and he probably had a hundred girls he could call if he wanted to. with how often you text him to fuck, plus the other people he’s probably seeing? he’s gotta be exhausted.

which is why most nights you opt for touching yourself instead. in the months since you first met joshua, your vibrators have been going through batteries a lot faster than usual, a fact you’re not exactly proud of but will own up to nonetheless.

it’s not your fault that the image of him leaning over you, his thin gold chain dangling in your face as he fucks you is burned into your head practically 24 hours of the day. or the fact that his voice plays on repeat in your brain, specifically that one time he called you “baby” and you came so hard you nearly passed out.

so really, it’s actually his fault that he’s constantly on your mind. his fault for being sexy… or your fault for falling for him?

either way, you find yourself yet again with your pussy stuffed full of your own fingers and your favorite purple vibrator on your clit (you remembered to charge it last night, after you came to the thought of joshua fucking you on your kitchen counter), wishing he could be there to see it.

you close your eyes and picture him in front of you, holding the vibrator against your clit as he grins down at you. such a good girl, he’d say, brushing his thumb over your nipple with his free hand. you love this, don’t you?

“fuck, yes, joshua,” you reply, gasping as you push your fingers deeper inside. you arch off the bed a little, pushing your head back against your pillow. you’ve learned that he loves it when you call him by his full name instead of “shua” or “josh”; you don’t know why, but it always seems to drive him crazy, and you never fail to leave his apartment sore in all the best places afterwards.

you spread your legs a little wider and moan, rolling your cheek to the side as you imagine him fucking you with his fingers instead of your own. i can tell you’re getting close, imaginary joshua says with a smirk, his hand cupped against your pussy as he thrusts his fingers in and out at a bruising pace.

“mhm,” you whimper, curling your fingers and trying to convince yourself that it feels as good as when he does it. “please, joshua—”

you turn your vibrator up to the highest setting, your hips canting into the air as you squeeze your eyes tighter shut. you can feel the waves beginning to wash over you and you repeat his name like a plea, chanting it over and over until you can’t form words anymore.

cum for me, baby, all over my fingers, he says, and your mouth falls open as you let go, your knee accidentally smacking against the wall as your legs shake with pleasure. you keep your vibrator held firmly against your clit until it sends you over the edge again, still riding the high of your first orgasm as you struggle to breathe through it. joshua loves to overstimulate you, until all you can do is weakly push at his hands and beg him to leave your exhausted cunt alone.

the post-orgasm clarity soon starts to hit and you’re left with the realization that you just got off from pretending your neighbor is just as in love with you as you are with him. absolutely pathetic.

but your eyes are starting to droop and you’re quickly finding that you’re too tired to stay awake to think about how much of a loser you are, so you tuck your favorite vibrator back into its spot in your drawer and put your pajamas back on and tuck yourself into bed, trying not to wish joshua was there beside you instead of infinitely far away on the other side of the wall.

when joshua wakes up the next morning, he half expects you to be waiting outside his door again.

of course anyone would be annoyed at being woken up by their neighbor before 7am, but then you’d sheepishly told him that you’d had the most insane wet dream about him and he’d been more than happy to let you come in and bounce yourself on his lap while he watched the early morning sunlight stream through his bedroom window onto your cheeks.

pretty much the perfect morning, in his eyes, except for the fact that you hadn’t slept in his bed with him. you never sleep over and it’s obvious why, but maybe it’s for good reason: he won’t get so attached to you.

unfortunately, though, this morning you aren’t waiting for him, so he trudges to his kitchen to make himself one lonely cup of coffee and one lonely stack of frozen waffles and get ready for his day.

he’s started noticing patterns about when and why you text him, and he finds himself checking his phone all day.

on mondays, because you have all your classes on those days and you’re already exhausted so why not get fucked within an inch of your life before you settle in for the night?

on thursdays, usually in the afternoons because both your schedules happen to line up where he’s just finished his work shift and you’re on your break between classes so it leaves the perfect amount of time for him to eat you out.

if you have a particularly hectic morning you’ll text him right away and ask him if he’d come over once you get home that night, and he’ll reply that he can’t wait with a big red heart emoji.

in fact, most of the times you want to see him is when you’re stressed or upset, which makes sense to him but at the same time makes him a little disappointed. he hopes that you’d want to see him on your happiest days, because any day he gets to see you is automatically his happiest day. but he supposes that’s where you’ve drawn the line, and he’ll have to be okay with that.

joshua’s restless through his chem lab this morning, and then his english lecture, and then his shift at work, not-so patiently awaiting you to ask him about his plans tonight.

but you don’t text him at all on monday, and you don’t text him on tuesday, either. he catches you going into your apartment at the same time he’s leaving on wednesday, and he waves as usual but you just give him a small nod and hurriedly close your door behind you. he’s almost positive you’ll text him on thursday, but your lunch hour comes and goes without a word.

he almost never texts you first, because you text him so often and most of the time he’s already thinking about you anyway. so when sunday rolls around again and he still hasn’t heard anything from you, he thinks maybe you’re waiting for him to say something first this time.

he knows you’ve been home, because he’s heard your friends coming and going. maybe you’ve just been busy with other things and didn’t mean to ghost him. sure, you get together pretty often, but that doesn’t mean it’ll happen every single week. plans change and that’s fine, and it is right before finals week after all.

but even when you’re on your period and aren’t in the mood to see him, you usually send a text as a heads up, and he’s definitely not keeping track or anything but this week shouldn’t be one of them. he’s going through every possibility he can think of as to why you’ve seemingly disappeared, but he just can’t find a reason why.

but then he realizes something else; he’s stopped hearing you at night, too. and then he really starts to worry, because he remembers how upset you looked when he saw you in the hall and maybe something really awful happened to you and he’s been pouting in his room like a selfish idiot this whole time.

so he pulls up your contact, cursor blinking over the text box as he tries to figure out what to say.

hey, he decides on, and he’s surprised but happy when you read the message right away.

he waits a moment, but you don’t respond, so he texts again. you can talk to me, you know? about other stuff. i’m your friend.

he shakes his head and deletes that last sentence before pressing send. you read it immediately again, but it’s a long and agonizing few minutes before you reply.

okay

he frowns, not knowing what to say back. did i do something and make you mad? you seem upset and i’m sorry.

it’s nothing. don’t worry

joshua wants to say, but i do worry, but he knows that might be too far and he’s still not even sure what’s wrong.

so instead he stands up and walks out his front door, leaving his phone on his bed. he may be an idiot, but the least he can do is try to act like your friend.

you don’t answer when he knocks, so he calls your name. “i know you’re home, i can hear you through the wall.”

finally the lock clicks, and you open your door just a crack. “what do you mean, you can hear through the wall?”

he pauses. “i can hear you… walking around, and stuff. making noise. the walls are thin.” so you really didn’t know? oh god, now he feels like an asshole for listening, even if he was trying not to.

“oh. well.” you sigh and close your eyes, inhaling. “that’s embarrassing.”

“can we talk?” joshua asks, suddenly feeling exposed. he’s plenty comfortable in large groups of people, but when he’s around you he wants to hold you tight and keep you secret and safe, out of sight of any wandering eyes. standing out in the hallway where anyone could hear is not how he’d like this to go.

“sure,” you mumble, swinging your door open for him to come inside.

you close the door but don’t move from behind it, standing like you’re waiting for him to say something. so he does.

“listen. i know whatever this is, is messy,” he starts, gesturing between the two of you. “but you’re my friend, and i care about you and i want you to be happy.” he sighs. “so please tell me what’s wrong, because not texting you has been really weird, and if you want to end this then that’s fine and i’ll leave you alone, but don’t just ghost me. we’re still neighbors and i’m not a fan of awkward hallway conversations.”

you crack a smile for a second, but it quickly fades. “do you want to end this?”

“no, not really. but i don’t want you to feel like you have to keep doing this if you don’t like it.”

“i thought it was pretty obvious i did like it,” you say with an almost laugh.

he stares at you quietly. “then what’s going on?”

“i want to keep doing this, but i just… i don’t think i can,” you say, avoiding his eyes. “at least not like this.”

“what do you mean, ‘like this’?”

“joshua, because i like you. and i feel awful because i know we’re not on the same page and it feels like i’m taking advantage of you because you probably have a dozen other women telling you the exact same thing and it’s probably exhausting and it’s not what you want!”

his face contorts in shock at your words. “well, first, that’s not at all true. and second of all, stop trying to guess what i want without just talking to me. what is it that you want?”

“you! i don’t know. i don’t know what i want anymore,” you say, covering your face with your hands.

joshua’s not sure if he should hug you or not, but he really, really wants to. “is that all that’s been bothering you this week?” he asks softly.

“yeah,” you say, moving your hands but still avoiding his eyes. “it’s stupid. i know, and i’m sorry.”

he laughs, and you look up at him like he’s crazy. “you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he says. “i’m sorry. because for months i’ve been wishing we could change this but i never said anything because this is what i thought you wanted.”

you keep staring at him, but he can’t read the emotion on your face. “so… what is this, then?”

“i’ll be whatever you want me to be for you. your fuck buddy, or your friend, or your boyfriend, whatever.”

“you really don’t see other people?” you ask, still unsure.

now it’s joshua’s turn to look at you like you’re crazy. “no, why would i want to? i don’t care if you do, but with how often you text me it sounds like you don’t, either.”

“i just figured— nevermind,” you sigh.

“can i give you a hug?” he asks after a minute. “we’ve been sleeping together the whole semester, and i don’t think i’ve ever given you a real, proper hug.”

you smile, and seeing that instantly makes his day. “yes, please.”

his arms feel secure around you, and his chest is warm against your cheek. with a sigh you close your eyes, breathing in the smell of his cologne that you’ve been trying to push out of your brain for weeks.

you stand there for a while, neither of you making any moves to pull away. it's been a really, really long week without joshua and you didn’t realize how badly you missed him until this moment.

“so about the walls thing—”

“hm?” he mumbles.

“—you can really hear everything?”

he laughs. “oh, yeah. your bedroom is right next to mine. been having trouble sleeping for so long because i kept hearing you moan my name and it got me hard every time.”

your cheeks burn in embarrassment. “joshua, i’m so sorry! if i had known—”

he shakes his head, cutting you off. “you can make it up to me by telling me everything you were thinking about.”

“probably nothing you don't already know,” you grin shyly.

“probably, but i wanna hear you say it anyway.”

you lean away from him a little bit, releasing your arms from around him to rest against his chest. “i should've known this is why you wanted to come over,” you say, pretending to be mad, but you can already feel the tingling feeling building up in your stomach at the thought.

“it's not,” he replies smoothly, “but i did miss waking up to you knocking on my door.”

you pout. “that was only that one time!”

“doesn't mean it has to be the last.”

heat creeps up into your cheeks and you glance away from him, gaze trained on his shoulder.

“you really wanna know what i was thinking about?” you ask, finally building up the courage to look back up at his face.

“of course i do.” his eyes are sparkling as he watches you, and you can't exactly identify the emotion but you know it makes your heart flutter.

“well,” you start, “it was different every time, but most of the time it started like this.” you trail your hands down his torso, pausing when they reach his hips. he stays silent, eyes fixed on your movements and a little smile on his face that you don't think he even realizes he's doing.

“and then…” you look down, a little surprised to notice the bulge in his pants already there. you place your hand over him gently and look up, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't stop you.

you clear your throat and start again. “and then, you'd sit on the couch and let me gag on your cock for a while.”

you start to push on his hips, backing him into your living room. he’s enjoying this way more than he should be, but then again, you basically just confessed your love to him so it’s kind of the best day of his life.

the back of his thighs hits the arm rest of your couch, but before you can move him any further his hands pull you flush against his body, his bulge pressing into your stomach.

“how about we skip that part for another day?” he says, his voice low. “tell me what happens after.”

you try your best to hold back a moan, suddenly losing your ability to speak. you can practically feel his cock throbbing through his clothes and it makes it impossible to come up with a coherent sentence.

“don’t get shy on me now, baby,” he hums, hands still firmly gripping your hips, and if your brain hadn’t short-circuited already then it definitely has now. “been hearing you in your room for weeks, i know how loud you like to be.”

“that’s not fair,” you finally manage, still trying to collect your thoughts.

joshua leans forward to kiss your neck, gently at first but quickly growing harsher, and you’re sure he can feel your pulse jump every time his teeth graze your skin.

“fuck, just like that,” you whimper, “exactly like that, shua—”

after a minute he hums and glances up at you through his lashes, clearly waiting for you to keep talking.

“we’d make out for a while, and then you—you’d fuck me on the floor,” you gasp out. joshua moans against your skin, and it’s only then that you realize your hands have found their way to his hair, tugging on it to urge him on.

your fingers loosen and he pulls away, the corners of his lips wet with saliva. “on the floor? you deserve better than that, baby,” he tsks. “can i take you to bed instead?”

“please,” you whine softly, suddenly feeling unbearably eager to fuck him. all week you’ve been using every last ounce of your energy to avoid thinking about joshua, but now that he’s here in front of you and way too willing to play into your fantasies, all the emotions you’ve been holding in are spilling out, and you don’t feel like containing them anymore.

you grab his hand and it’s like you can’t make it to your room fast enough, falling onto your bed and pulling him down on top of you. by then you’ve both forgotten the conversation you were having before because you’re too busy desperately pressing your lips against his, barely remembering to breathe as he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you and what were you even talking about again?

your brain is clouded when he finally pulls away with a gasp, kissing your cheek and your neck once more. his hands slip beneath your shirt and tug it over your head, making his way between your breasts and down your stomach and leaving more kisses as he goes. your skin burns with each touch, gentle lips and not-so-gentle hands covering every inch of you until you feel like your whole body is on fire.

he sits up just long enough to pull his own shirt off and now it’s your turn to touch, your hands instantly finding his chest as you trace your fingertips down his abs.

“how do you want me?” joshua groans, his hands joining yours at his hips to help him push his pants to the ground.

“fuck… missionary? just like this?” you say as you kick your pants and panties off in a rush, wrapping your legs around his waist.

his cock brushes against your stomach and you sigh out a moan, your hands moving up to grab at his biceps. he doesn’t say another word as he runs his tip through your folds, his attention fixated on your pussy and how you’re already dripping for him. for a second he forgets where he is and what he’s doing, so engrossed with the sight of you and how fucking glad he is that he didn’t lose you because you’re both idiots that assume too much about what the other wants instead of communicating your feelings like normal adults.

you let out a little noise and his eyes flick back up to your face, his gaze immediately softening at the blissful expression on your face. to think, he could’ve been seeing you like this the whole time if he had the balls to admit how he felt sooner. but there’s plenty of time for him to pout about it later because right now you need him, and he needs you, too, so why waste time thinking about that when he can think about how good you look taking his cock?

he leans down because he can’t resist kissing your beautiful face one more time, and finally he pushes into you, letting out a loud whine at the same time you moan his name. the sound of your voices joined together goes straight to his dick as he pulls almost all the way out, thrusting back into you with renewed energy.

“baby— fuck,” he groans, his grip on your body tightening as his thrusts begin to grow faster and rougher. “so good to me.”

you clench hard around him at the nickname, clinging onto him as you squeeze your eyes shut.

and then without warning everything hits you all at once, and you go boneless in his arms as he whimpers and groans and gasps and holds you tight and he probably told you he loves you about a million times as he was cumming too but you can’t hear anything as you lay exhausted on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with your ears ringing.

even with his shaking hands you can still feel the gentleness in joshua’s touch as you start to come back down, the warmth of his breath on your cheek as his fingers lightly brush your hair out of your face, feeling him twitch inside you before he slowly pulls out.

with his own orgasm following just barely after yours that was probably some kind of record for the fastest round ever, but you don’t even have the strength to care. so what if he usually fucks you for hours on end? all you care about is the fact that he’s tracing your collarbones with a fucked-out little smile on his face and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

with a soft grunt he stands up, and you call out his name with all the energy you have left.

“joshua?”

“mhm?”

“can you stay?” you ask, and somehow you both know you’re talking about more than just for the next few minutes.

he smiles. “wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.” and when he comes back with a towel and a wet wipe and apologizes for how fast it all was and promises to give you more whenever you want because he’s officially yours now, you know he’s telling the truth.

even when he’s doing nothing at all, joshua never fails to make your head spin.

laying in the dark with you, his fingers absentmindedly twirling your hair as you snuggle into his chest, you can’t even begin to find the words to explain how good it feels knowing he loves you and you love him back.

but it doesn’t seem like he needs words right now. all he needs is you.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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flwrstqr · 29 days

Text

— SICKNESS DAYS TOGETHER

₊˚⊹ notes ~ idol! sunghoon x fem!reader ⋆⭒ warnings: sickness, reader on period, guilty, not proofread, pentanes ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 word count: 400+꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆˚ genre: fluff, comfortish | AN: a request from an anon, this was honestly a really cute prompt so thank u sm anon for requesting ^^| LIBRARY FOR MORE...

YOU'RE HUDDLE ON THE COUCH cradling a heating pad against your stomachas the cramps rage on. It's one of those days where everything feels terrible, and your mood matches the gloomy weather outside. Each passing minute seems to drag on, and you find yourself wishing for some relief.

Just when you start feeling more pangs of pain, the door creaks open, and Sunghoon steps inside. His dance practice ended early today. You barely acknowledge his presence, due to your cramps.

"Hey, angel," Sunghoon greets, his voice laced with tiredness, "I'm home."

You respond with a short nod, still in immense pain.

Sunghoon's brows furrow in worry as he approaches you. "Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?" you snap, your irritation seeping into your voice.

Sunghoon steps back slightly, taken aback by your sharp tone. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Just leave me alone," you mutter, burying your face in the pillow.

Sunghoon hesitates, his expression troubled. "Actually, I'm not feeling too well either."

You shoot him a skeptical glance. "Oh, really? Got cramps too, huh?"

He shakes his head, a pained expression crossing his features. "No, it's my stomach. It's been bothering me since practice."

You can't help but roll your eyes. "Sure, Sunghoon. Just trying to tease me, are you?God I probably going through worse."

His hurt is evident in his eyes as he meets your gaze. "No, I'm serious. I feel really sick."

"Right," you turned around, annoyance still flaming in your mood. Sunghoon stood up and then left the living room quietly, leaving you alone.

YOU'RE ABOUT TO HEAD OUT TO THE convenience store. As you grab your bag and keys, Sunghoon's earlier words echo in your mind. His stomach ache. At first, you brushed it off as him teasing you, but now, a feeling of doubt creeps in.

You pause, your hand hovering over the doorknob. Glancing back at Sunghoon, who's slumped on his bed looking paler and more tired than usual, a wave of guilt washes over you. Maybe you've been too quick to dismiss his discomfort. After all, he's never been one to complain about minor ailments unlike you.

With a heavy heart, you leave the apartment, your mind racing with worry. What if he's really sick? What if you've been too caught up in your own discomfort to notice his suffering?

As you make your way to the convenience store, you try to focus yourself to get the stuff you need and maybe a couple of snacks.

Inside the store, you mechanically grab the pads, your mind preoccupied with thoughts of Sunghoon. As you head to the checkout counter, you catch sight of the antacids on display. Without hesitation, you add them to your basket.

Back at the apartment, you find Sunghoon exactly where you left him, looking even worse than before. His pale skin and pained expression tug down your heart, filling you with a sense of determination to make it up to him.

"I got you something," you say softly, handing him the antacids.

He looks up at you in surprise, his eyes widening. "You didn't have to—"

"I know," you interrupt, taking a seat beside him in the bed. "But I wanted to. I'm sorry for not taking you seriously earlier. You were right, and I should have listened."

Sunghoon's expression softens, his gratitude evident in his eyes. "Thank you, baby. I really appreciate it." You give a soft smile leaning in for a soft kiss on his cheek.

"I love you so much," you whispered softly.

"I love you too," Sunghoon replied, holding you tightly.

426 notes · View notes

lovequartz · 2 months

Text

under wisteria blossoms

⊱ pairing: town doctor!wonwoo x reader

⊱ genre: small town, acquaintances to lovers, fluff & angst

⊱ warnings: historical inaccuracy, self-image and self-esteem issues, period-typical views (marriage/women)

⊱ word count: 7900+

⊱ tonight, i’ll send the glow of a firefly to somewhere near your window

⊱ notes: happy and somewhat relived to be able to share this, i think like aoybb this is something that i worked really hard on and tried my best with <3

The boy's skin feels warm and clammy underneath Wonwoo’s fingers. He’s glad the family called him when they did, thankfully the young boy’s condition had been better than he’d anticipated. He hangs his stethoscope back into its place over his shoulders and turns to the boy’s grandfather.

“It’s a mild fever, he should be feeling better with a few doses of herbal tea and lots of rest,” Wonwoo pauses to pull the young boy’s shirt down and the sheet covering him, back up, “please don’t hesitate to call me if anything changes.”

Your father walks the doctor to the door and bids him farewell with a firm handshake as well as a pat on the shoulder. As soon as the door shuts you move to change the washcloth resting on your nephew’s head.

“You could’ve greeted him properly rather than peek at him from the hallway,” your father teases.

You shake your head as your hands busy themselves with wringing the washcloth. “He was so handsome,” you sigh, “I almost broke into a rash just staring at him.” You place the now cool fabric back into place across your nephew’s forehead, and press your moist hands against your cheeks in a futile effort to bring a chill to your warm face. Perhaps you’re the one with the fever now.

Your paths do not cross with the young and handsome doctor until sometime a week or two later. Your parents had insisted you bring him a small basket of persimmons on your morning delivery to thank him for Silas’s care, and your sister, Silas’s mother, had insisted that you bring your nephew with you.

So there you were, the pair of you, walking towards the town center to find Jeon Wonwoo’s office of practice.

Silas squeezes your hand to get your attention and you glance toward him to let him know you’re listening.

“Auntie,” he starts, “do you think I should become a doctor when I grow up?”

You almost giggle but hold it in lest he thinks you’re laughing at him. His mother would probably run the streets in excitement if she’d just heard her son’s query.

“Now why do I have a say in what you should be when you grow up? You can be whatever you want, I always tell you that.”

His lips form a small pout before he replies; “You’re my best friend, of course you have a say.”

Tears try to fill your eyes before you will them away with a shake of your head. “Well as your best friend I say that you should be whatever makes you happy.” You tell him and lean down to quickly press a kiss to his cheek. “Now let’s hurry to Mister Jeon’s office so he can get his persimmons and you can go to afternoon classes.”

The doctor’s office isn’t too hard to find, mostly due to the fact that there’s only one of them, and it’s fairly new to town.

As you and your nephew make your way to the entrance you notice the wisteria plants that span the awning. ‘They'll look lovely when they bloom in spring,’ you muse.

The bell above the door chimes as the two of you enter and the young man sitting behind what you assume to be the reception desk nods in greeting.

“Do you have an appointment?” He asks once you are closer to the desk.

“Actually, I’m here with a delivery," you say, shyly holding up the basket, "and payment for Dr. Jeon's house visit."

"Of course," he stands to receive the basket from you and sets it on the floor beside his chair. You watch him smooth down his dress shirt as he returns to his seat. The man then pulls open a drawer at his side and retrieves a medium sized journal, setting it in front of him and wetting his index finger to flip through its pages.

"May I know the date the visit took place? As well as the patient's last name and address?"

You provide him with the information and watch as he skims through the cursive written on the journal's pages.

As you converse with the man about payment you can't help but be thankful about how well behaved Silas is as you do. Although it might have been due to his fascination with the fish in a tank that sat in the waiting area, tucked next to some chairs and a table with a few newspapers, you're no less grateful.

The two of you leave the office shortly after, your nephew a bit disappointed in not seeing Dr. Jeon, the man who has become the current subject of his admiration.

"I'm sure we'll see him sometime soon," you say, trying to lift the boy's spirits, "it's a small town after all. Now, run along to class. Your mother will have my head if you're late again."

Silas bids you farewell with a hug and you watch him jog down the road towards the schoolhouse, his bag swinging behind him. Unbeknownst to you that the doctor you'd been speaking about was watching it all from not too far away.

Wonwoo is just shy of exhausted as he enters his practice. Removing his hat and tweed coat, holding onto them to hang them up in his office.

Seungkwan stands from his chair to greet him but before he can utter a word Wonwoo lets out an almost comical sigh.

"Please tell me I'm done with house visits for the day, I don't think I can handle another matriarch trying to convince me to marry their daughter."

"You'll be happy to note that all the patients left today are mostly general check-ups." Seungkwan replies with a look of amusement. "Oh and before I forget the daughter of the persimmon farm came by with a basket for you and also took care of their bill for the visit two weeks ago," he continues.

"I thought I caught a glimpse of her outside. Thank you, Seungkwan, I'll be in my office if you need me."

Wonwoo closes his office door behind him as he enters, hanging up his hat and jacket on the coat rack to his immediate left. The basket of persimmons sits in the middle of his desk, covered with a cloth that had to have been hand-sewn. It's cream colored with a bouquet of embroidered flowers in the corner, beautiful work. It's a shame he can't enjoy the sweet fruit that lies beneath, work comes first.

The bookstore's wood stairs creak as you ascend and in turn the bell hanging above the door chimes as you enter. Delight flashes across your face as you lock eyes with the girl who sits behind the counter. She returns your joy earnestly with a small smile and a wave of her hand.

"You seem to be awfully chipper this afternoon." Jisun notes as you lean against the counter.

"Maybe because I have it all to myself," You reply, with a smile.

"I thought you had deliveries to do today?" She asks, confused.

"Well, I did have one delivery today, to Dr. Jeon's office. My father said if I made that delivery and sent Silas off to classes I could take the afternoon off. I might have to do some this evening though."

At the mention of the doctor's name your friend gives you a coy look, which you ignore.

Jisun and you fall into easy conversation between the calm buzz of the bookstore and her helping whatever customer needs it. You move to sit beside her behind the counter, to free up space. She tells you all about the planning being done by her mother for her upcoming wedding. Her engagement to the eldest son of the town's pottering family, Kim Doyoung, happened sometime this past winter. Jisun was over the moon when he had asked for her hand; you remember her crush on him from your school days. He was set to take over the family business in two to three years due to his father's declining health.

"I'm thinking late summer or next autumn, because of the weather. My mother wants it to happen as early as possible, but Doyoung and I are okay with waiting a bit longer. His mother is fine with whatever I decide, she's truly wonderful."

"I'm sure everything will work out. I just can't wait to atten– your response is cut off by the bell above the door chiming to announce a customer, your and Jisun's eyes snapping to the door.

To your utter horror, Jeon Wonwoo enters the bookstore.

You duck behind the counter quickly, praying he hasn't seen you yet and clutching your headscarf so it obscures your face better.

Jisun gives you a confused look but you wordlessly plead for her to act normal, breathing a sigh of relief when she turns to greet the doctor.

"Welcome, Dr. Jeon! I wasn't expecting you today."

You're glad Jisun is a better actress than she seems.

Wonwoo returns her greeting and asks about the store. To which Jisun replies; "It's been fine, not too busy and not too slow."

"How's Doyoung's father? I understand he's been taking his medicine diligently, but I haven't got around to seeing him yet as I was in the office all afternoon."

She offers the doctor a smile, "He's doing much better, thankfully. We're all really grateful to you, Dr. Jeon."

"Please, call me Wonwoo, I prefer to be 'Dr. Jeon' during work hours."

Jisun smiles, "Of course."

Your squatting position soon becomes uncomfortable but you'd rather die than show yourself now, so you continue to listen to the two converse.

"And the wedding? I know you've been planning."

"Well, nothing is set in stone yet, but Doyoung and I are thinking perhaps late summer or even early autumn. Fret not, you and Seungkwan absolutely have a place on the guest list."

"Looking forward to it then. Sorry to take up so much time with small talk, your father has a medical textbook saved for me. I told him I would be by this morning but I was a bit too busy."

"I see, it's likely in his study then. I'll be just a minute!" She replies before turning around to the back of the bookstore, shooting you a wary glance before she disappears.

You hear Wonwoo hum quietly to himself as he waits, and you silently pray for Jisun to make haste. Your legs are burning, not only from the weight of your body but also mostly due to the weight of your deceit. No matter, you cannot possibly let Jeon Wonwoo see you.

"Here it is!" Jisun announces cheerfully as she returns, holding up the thick book with two hands and a sense of pride.

"Thank you, Jisun. How much do I owe?"

Jisun calculates the total along with a hefty discount sparing no room for argument, before wrapping the book up and handing it to the doctor.

"You take care now Wonwoo! I'm sure I'll see you soon." Jisun says as she bids him farewell.

You breathe a sigh of relief at the bell chiming, and the sound of the door closing. Grabbing onto the counter you hoist yourself back to standing much to the torment of your legs.

"What was that about?" Jisun asks with a confused look as you wince and massage your knees.

You open your mouth to respond but Jisun continues; "Don't you dare say 'nothing'."

"I don't want him to see me." You admit, looking at your feet.

"Why not?" She seems incredulous at your confession, "Is it because of your scar?"

Your hand instinctively reaches to touch the long scar that runs through your left eye and down your cheek. The scar that "marred" you, the one that made people look twice, the only thing that prevents you from finding love.

You sigh before giving Jisun a hollow smile, "I have to fetch Silas soon. I'll tell you more later."

And with that you wave to Jisun and make your exit.

The reminder of your scar brings awful memories back to the surface of your mind, and they are all you can think about as you walk to the schoolhouse.

Early Summer (Two Years Prior)

"Darling, is your sister ready? The Baes will be here any moment!"

Your sister hurriedly pulls the curlers from your hair, and runs a brush through them. "Give us forty seconds Mama!" She looks you over in the mirror before giving you a reassuring smile, rushing to pick up the discarded curlers.

"You look beautiful! Now go see Mama, quickly!"

You meet your mother in the kitchen and she gives you a once over before kissing your cheek. "My lovely girl."

Your mother instructs you on when to join them at the table after the Baes arrive and to bring the persimmons she's already cut with you. Figuring you still have time, you move to your sister's room where your nephew is playing.

"Hi Silas." You say softly as you find a seat next to the boy.

"Hi Auntie, what happened to your special meeting?" He asks with a tilt of his head.

"The special people aren't here yet so I came to say hi one more time." You reply, pushing his hair out of his face, it was getting so long.

You and your nephew chat for a bit more until the commotion from the front of the house draws away your attention; the Baes have arrived.

The Baes were a modest family, a mom, a dad and two children, one boy and one girl. They owned the town jewelers, and were surprisingly well known. Bae Giwoong, the head of the family, was skilled with his hands, creating beautiful pieces that complimented anyone. Paired with a wife that had vast knowledge on jewels and precious stones, they had done quite well for themselves.

Hyunsik, the son, had come in earnest with his family to potentially ask for your hand. You were quite nervous, but seeing as your sister had married almost four years prior and had Silas, it was only natural that you were thinking about marriage as well.

The meeting was dragging on. You had presented the persimmons just as your mother had instructed, before taking your seat at her side, across from Hyunsik who you offered a polite but reserved smile. He did not return it, only glancing at you briefly before returning his attention to the conversation between your father and his.

Soon, the chatter dwindled and the Baes announced their leave. Your father convinced Mr. Bae to have a cigar with him just outside the house before they departed. You busied yourself with clearing the table of the used forks and now empty cups of tea your mother had prepared.

After your tidying, you swiftly move through the house to the window at the front of it, intent on eavesdropping.

Peering out you see the son and father chatting amongst themselves, your father probably in his study to fetch the cigar he promised Mr. Bae. Leaning closer to the ledge you're able to hear the two as they converse.

"They're a good family, what do you think of her?" Mr. Bae asks.

"They seem to be," Hyunsik agrees, "She's adequate, I suppose. If only she didn't have that unsightly scar," he continues.

Your heart drops into your stomach at his words, as your hand unconsciously reaches to the scar.

His father mulls over his words with a hum before replying; "You'd have to keep her under lock and key, the poor girl's mangled."

The dread in your stomach hardens and you want nothing more than to stop hearing these harsh words, but you are frozen in place.

Hyunsik nods in agreement, "It's really a shame. I'd be able to overlook it if it were anywhere else, I just can't imagine waking up to that face every morning."

You feel the tears before you register that you're crying, and the sensation is enough to knock you back to consciousness. You stand hurriedly and make your way to your room before anyone can see you in this pathetic state.

You pretend. In the day you are just yourself, getting errands done and living day to day. You pretend to agree, when your mother tells you that Bae Hyunsik would not be asking for your hand due to the fact that he believes you two wouldn't be compatible. At night you are inconsolable, crying into your pillow until your tears eventually put you to sleep.

Silas senses a shift in your mood, but as a three year old he only does what he can. Seeking attention whenever you're sitting idle, laying his head on your lap while you stroke his hair. His little hands playing with your free one.

Eventually, you learn to move on. As does Hyunsik when he marries the eldest daughter of Lee's dairy farm.

His words, however, will stay with you forever.

Drawn out of your memories by the clanging of the schoolhouse bell you quicken your pace, keeping eyes out for your nephew. He appears within a few moments, his own eyes searching for you. You wave to him when he finally finds you.

"How were classes?" You ask as the boy bounds up to you, reaching to smooth his unruly hair.

"Good!” He chirps, before launching into detail about his afternoon. Keeping the two of you entertained as you follow the road home.

The days that follow glide by until eventually they all bleed into a week, a week since you’ve seen the young doctor. Your deliveries go as well as can be expected, though they have been slowing down, and your father is busy preparing the year’s saplings. Silas has gone off to visit his paternal grandparents who live a few towns away, your sister going along despite her relationship of apathy with her in-laws. She did say something about Henry’s younger brother finishing his woodworking apprenticeship so she was expected to be present.

You find yourself bored without your small friend but find time to chat with Jisun every now and again. Miraculously you haven’t run into Wonwoo at all, though you’ve caught glimpses from afar and he has not gotten any less handsome.

At dusk your mother finds you with a basket in her hands.

"Did I forget a delivery?" You question eyes falling to the vermillion fruit.

"No dear, your father is out with the trees still and it slipped my mind that I had promised Mrs. Lee these. You know her youngest just got engaged," She explains.

"Ah right I had forgotten. I'll take care of it," you reply, taking the basket from your mother's hands and pressing a reassuring kiss to her cheek.

The walk to the Lee home is not long, but it is closer to the town than to your own home. You greet the few townspeople you come across on the way, offering them small smiles and polite nods.

The greetings have you in a good mood so you have a little more pep in your step as you bound up the Lee family's porch, curling your fingers around the knocker when you make it to the door.

"Coming!" You hear a girlish voice say, followed by the sounds of the door unlocking.

With a slight tug of the door inwards you come face to face with Lee Daeun, the eldest Lee sister, one hand laid on the wood while the other cradles her very pregnant stomach. The polite smile on her face slips when her eyes flash with recognition.

"I had assumed your mother would be dropping by, not…..you."

You offer a shrug, "Mother sent me instead, sorry to disappoint." You reply jokingly, trying to ease the tension.

Daeun doesn't respond right away, choosing to study you for a few moments. The silence becomes awkward quickly so you try your best to remedy it.

"Congratulations to your sister, what a joyous occasion for her. And to yourself, I didn't know you were with child." You say with a warm smile, probably the most genuine thing the two of you had exchanged thus far.

You hold out the basket to her, which she takes sliding it up her arm so it rests in the crook of her elbow.

"Yes, well, our family is quite satisfied with her fiancé. He's the son of an artisan, and they live a few towns eastward." Both her hands now rest on her stomach, "As for this one, it's only been a few months. Hyunsik is over the moon, and Momma insists on keeping me inside for the time being, so I don't get out much." Daeun's eyes seize you once more before she continues; "And yourself? I know your family has been searching for suitors, any success?"

She may as well have doused you in cold water with the way her tone becomes icy.

"Unfortunately not. I'm not too worried though, I know finding a suitable bachelor can take some time and I'm nothing if not patient."

A scoff escapes her at your reply. "Worried? I feel you should be rather embarrassed. My youngest sister, a girl who we both watched play with mud when we were all children, is now engaged. Meanwhile you continue to age with no partner to call yours, as well as toting around your poor nephew pretending he's your own. I think it's time you face reality, nobody wants a scarred wife no matter how pretty she is."

You are stunned into silence, fists clenched and nails biting into the skin of your palms. Every cell in your body fighting the urge to cry at the venom Daeun had spat at you for seemingly no reason at all.

"Give your parents our family's thanks." Is the last thing she says before shutting the door in your face.

You stare at the door for a few moments, tears starting to blur your vision, before you turn and hurry away from the Lee's home.

Hot tears are blurring your vision as you head in the direction opposite your house. You want to find somewhere quiet to cry your eyes out before heading back to your residence and pretending everything is fine and dandy.

Reaching closer to town, you stumble across the fountain just behind the main street, tucked between a few trees. A veranda shielding it from the setting sun with vines of wisteria weaved through its wood. The flowers are nowhere in sight as their blooming season is still a ways off. You, however, are too busy crying to care much about wisteria.

Shakily you manage to sit at the fountain's edge before your body is wracked with your sobs. Fingers fumble to pull the knot of your scarf resting against your chin loose, and once the fabric comes free you bury your face in it, your tears never once stopping.

You don't know how long you sit there crying, removing your face from your tear stained head scarf every so often to breathe.

A soft voice is the thing that finally brings you back to reality, and there before you with worry etched into his wrinkled brow is Jeon Wonwoo.

Your mind blanks at the sight of him, and it feels as if someone has stuffed cotton in your ears as Wonwoo's lips move but you cannot hear a word he utters. His concerned frown deepens as he gets no response from you, leaning closer. It's as if all the blood in your body rushes to your head and you feel yourself falling backwards as if someone had grabbed onto the back of your dress and yanked.

Wonwoo cries in surprise as he watches you fall towards the water, arms reaching out to grab you. The sound kicks your brain into gear, it's too late to stop your descent but you throw your hands back to catch yourself. A loud splash echoes through the small area before you are engulfed in the sensation of cold water drenching your skin and clothes. Wonwoo as he lunged to grab you had also met with the fountain water, his hands and forearms submerged, and his body leaning over top of yours.

Silence buzzes between the two of you as the only thing you can do is stare at each other. It's only then do you truly realize the situation that you've found yourself in. Wonwoo's face is mere inches from your own and the only thing you can think is how much more handsome he looks up close. His strong jaw, sharp nose, and the flecks of honey that swim in the brown of his irises.

You notice him studying your own face, and as his eyes drift over to the left you remember why you were crying in the first place. Your hand snaps up to cover your scar and this is what seems to break the trance between you and the doctor. Wonwoo can feel the blood rushing to his ears as he scrambles back to his feet, bowing his head and offering apology after apology.

When you don't respond his eyes meet yours, and he notices you have not made any attempt to remove yourself from the fountain. Your green dress is bunched up over your knees, the fabric now dark due to the water, and your patterned head scarf still gripped in hand.

Wonwoo's face still feels like it has been set ablaze but he offers you both of his hands, "May I?"

You nod shakily before he leans over and your hands reach up to grasp his own. He pulls you firmly, but not yanking, and even lets one of your hands go to loop an arm around your waist for a more secure hold.

You notice how firm his body feels against yours and how much taller he is than you'd thought now that you're practically pressed together. Heat rushes to your cheeks.

Wonwoo slowly removes his arm from your waist and his hand from yours, taking half a step back to give you some (much needed) space.

"Are you alright? I feel awful about startling you, but I heard the crying and wanted to know if you were okay."

"I'm fine," you reply, voice small, "my apologies for getting you wet."

The doctor's lips twitch and you feel perhaps he wants to laugh at you. You wouldn't fault him, you are soaked to the bone, rivulets of water running down your legs beneath your dress.

"Water under the bridge."

You almost giggle at that, but duck your head down and compose yourself quickly.

Wonwoo continues; "Would you mind walking with me to my practice? I live right above it, and would feel better if I could get you into something dry before escorting you home. I know you live a bit out of town."

Before you can respond Wonwoo must have realized how he sounded.

"I know because you left me the persimmons and I treated the young boy, though I didn't see you there. I have seen you around town with him though, just briefly of course, completely coincidentally. I don't go out of my way to catch a glimpse of you here and there. I promise, I'm not a strange person." Wonwoo rambles in an attempt to clear the air, though you're not sure it needed clearing in the first place.

The space above Wonwoo’s office is quaint, what it lacks in size it makes up for in homey-ness. Books piled neatly from where they spill out of the bookshelf, a warm armchair nestled right beside it. A dining table with one chair, both a dark cherrywood, sits against the wall adjacent to the small kitchenette. There’s a small wood-burning stove that looks well loved. Everything in the space feels very Wonwoo to you.

Speaking of, you can hear him rustling through the drawers in the other room. He ushered you in despite your protests, not wanting to drip all over his home. Once inside he disappeared for a moment, reappearing with a towel clutched in his hand, and then layed it across the floor in front of you. “Since you feel so strongly about not getting my floor wet,” he’d said, before disappearing once more.

You fiddle with your fingers, still drenched to the bone, as your clothes drip drip drip onto the towel.

Finally, Wonwoo exits the room, pulling the door closed behind him with a bundle of clothes tucked safely in his other arm.

“I’m sure they won’t fit like a glove, but you’re likely grateful for dry clothes either way.” His tone is a bit teasing, and you can only nod in response with your ears feeling hot.

“The bathroom is just opposite of my room,” He says, passing over the clothes to your hands, “take your time. It’s just about dark so I’ll be sure to walk you home. You can call your parents, or husband, when you’re dressed. I have a phone.” He continues.

The ‘husband’ comment makes you bristle but you decide to clear the air with Wonwoo at a later time, desperately wanting to get out of this wet dress.

“Thank you,” you reply softly, and turn to scurry into the safety of the bathroom.

You get dressed quickly, not bothering with your undergarments. You’d rather have wet undergarments than be bare underneath clothes that don’t even belong to you, the thought flushes your whole body with heat.

Wonwoo directs you to the phone, it rests on a side table next to the armchair, and you dial your house phone with urgency, despite the slowness of the crank dial. The line rings for a few moments, and as you hear the other line click “Mother?” tumbles from your lips.

Your mother says your name with surprise, “Darling where are you? Are you still at the Lees’?”

“No, something happened on the way home. But I’m with Doctor Jeon, you know Doctor Jeon? He treated Silas when he had that god-awful fever. Well, he helped me out, so I’m fine. He insisted I call you before he accompanied me home, so I was just letting you know Momma.”

You listen to your mother talk for a bit more before you bid her goodbye, her voice ringing out a “Be safe on your way home!” before you set the receiver down.

“Thank you for letting me use your phone, and for the clothes,” you say to Wonwoo, who sits across the room from you in that dining table chair.

“Of course,” he replies, “now let's get you home.”

The small talk as the two of you walk the path to your family home is pleasant enough. You find that Wonwoo has somewhat of an eclectic sense of humor, and he’s quite witty despite the seriousness of his profession. In no time your home is visible, and you feel a tinge of disappointment at its sight.

“Well, I suppose this is where we part,” Wonwoo sighs as the two of you stand in front of the gate of your home.

“I suppose,” you echo.

A long pause ebbs between you both as you gaze at each other.

Suddenly you feel a jolt go through you as you have a realization. You’d forgotten your dress on the floor of his bathroom.

“My dress,” you say bashfully, “I left it in your bathroom.”

“That’s okay, I’ll get it washed for you. You can come by the office in the next few days, I’ll have it nice and clean.” He assures you with a soft smile.

“Thank you,” you reply.

Before you can turn to leave Wonwoo continues; “I haven’t seen your boy around, Silas was it? How’s he fairing these days?”

You offer the doctor a tight lipped smile, “His father took him to visit family a few towns over.” You think you have to clear this misunderstanding up before it's too late.

“Also, he’s not mine. Silas, I mean, he’s my sister’s son. I’m not married, I’ve never been.”

“I see,” Wonwoo replies, and you feel you may have offended him somehow at his tone but he continues; “That’s good then, I felt I may have been acting inappropriately towards you. Thinking you were married and all.”

“I didn’t think you were acting inappropriately at all.”

“That brings me relief. Then you won’t think me telling you how lovely I think you look would be inappropriate either? Considering you’re unmarried.”

You feel your ears are deceiving you, because surely Jeon Wonwoo didn’t just say he thinks you look lovely. But as you gaze at his face, a handsome smirk paints his lips, perhaps your ears work just fine.

It seems your mother has never had a more perfect sense of timing as she swings the front door open shouting your name.

You tear your gaze away from Wonwoo to call back to her; “I’m here! No need to shout.”

You hear her footsteps as she makes her way to the gate, shooting Wonwoo an apologetic glance. He offers a soft smile in response.

It isn’t long before you hear the rattling of the gate lock and your mother’s voice again “Honey, what are you doing loitering around outside…“ Her words trail off as she takes in Wonwoo standing across from you. Her gaze flits between the two of you, pausing at your state of dress; a linen shirt and black trousers that were a few sizes too big. Despite her obvious shock your mother paints on a lovely smile and bows her head in greeting to the doctor.

“Oh my, Doctor Jeon, I had forgotten you’d be accompanying her home! Thank you for helping my daughter out, you’re quite the gentleman.”

You shoot your mother an incredulous look, not wanting her to embarrass you further than you yourself already have. She ignores you, of course.

Wonwoo bows his head with a smile, “Not at all. It was my pleasure, your daughter has quite the interesting personality.”

“Doesn’t she? We have no idea where she gets it from, there’s no one like her in the family.”

You assume your mother is trying to rope Wonwoo into having something to eat by the glint in her eye so you jump in.

“I’m sure Wonwoo would like to head home, Momma. He has a bit of a walk back into town.”

“Do you?” She turns to him, “We’d hate to keep you.”

“I have some time,” Wonwoo assures her, “there’s no one waiting for me at home.”

You can’t help but feel betrayed by Wonwoo’s choice to indulge your mother.

“Really? Have you eaten? Let me pack some food for you to take!”

And before any of you can say anything, your mother has Wonwoo’s wrist in her grip gently leading him through the front gate and to your house.

You run a hand down your face before following.

Your mother leads Wonwoo through the house, through the living room, to have him sit on the ledge just outside the living room doors that open up to the garden.

“Now you wait right here,” your mother tells him, “I’ll have my daughter fetch you a drink while I pack up something for you!”

“Thank you,” Wonwoo replies.

She eyes you meaningfully before grabbing your arm to drag you to the kitchen.

“There’s some cold yuzu tea in the fridge, take him a glass please.” She sets a medium sized cup onto a saucer, and you recognize it as a part of the china set your family typically uses for important guests. It’s white with some foliage painted on the side.

You follow your mother’s command as she busies herself with packing side dishes, reaching past her into the fridge where the pot of yuzu tea sits.

After pouring a cup you garnish it with a rosemary sprig you pluck from the plant sitting on the kitchen’s windowsill. You're careful not to spill as you make your way to where Wonwoo waits, your pace slow.

He gives you a kind smile as you set the cup and saucer in front of him, thanking you in a soft voice.

“Your mother made this?” He asks, after having a sip. The tea is quite refreshing, and it's probably one of the best yuzu teas he’s ever had.

You shake your head. “I made the pot this time, usually whoever finds it running low makes it, between me and her of course. My older sister can’t brew tea to save her life, she takes after father.”

“Well, it’s delicious. I suppose you’re quite the master when it comes to brewing tea.”

You shake your head again, bashfully. You feel small under Wonwoo's fond gaze, not sure what is the appropriate way to act when he's showing you such kindness. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, with Wonwoo sipping at his tea and you trying to discreetly study his face. You know you've thought this before but he really is quite handsome.

"The garden is beautiful, I don't think I've seen one built in the middle of a home like this before."

"My great-grandfather built this house," you reply, moving so your body is parallel with Wonwoo's, both of you facing the open space. "He traveled a bit with my great-grandmother and when they built this house they took inspiration from some of the homes they stayed in on their travels."

"I see." He replies, setting his now empty cup down, his knuckles brushing the side of your hand as he does so.

You pull your hand away, as if burned, and heat flushes your body.

Wonwoo doesn't comment on this thankfully but you think you see the edge of his lips twitch.

"Sorry to keep you waiting!" Your mother's voice rings out. Walking to where you and Wonwoo sit with the containers of food wrapped up in an orange cloth. She sets it between you and Wonwoo as she kneels.

"I don't know what you like, so I added a bit of everything! I snuck in a couple of persimmons as well, we have more than enough."

"Thank you kindly," Wonwoo says sweetly, giving your mother a smile.

"It's no trouble dear! And don't worry about the containers, I'll have this one fetch them from you whenever." She says, motioning to you.

"Well, thank you again. I should be getting on my way now, I've overstayed my welcome it seems."

"Oh not at all!" Your mother pats his arm, "We're always happy to have you Doctor Jeon. My daughter will see you out, don't be a stranger now!"

Wonwoo gathers the cloth in his fist, and the cup and saucer in his free hand. You take the china, passing it to your mother before leading Wonwoo back towards the entrance of your home.

Soon you are in the exact same setting you were when you had arrived; you and Wonwoo standing across from each other at the gate.

"My apologies for my mother, she's the type to flit around even if you tell her to sit still."

"Not at all. She's quite the character, but I can tell she's also immensely kind. I now know where you get it from." The smile on Wonwoo's lips is teasing and you think about how nice it is to have someone compliment you.

After a few more short moments of small talk you urge the doctor to be on his way. The sun had already sunk low behind the horizon and the path back to town settled in darkness. You hurry to grab him a lantern, just to help him light his way home, as the roads would absolutely be dark until about halfway into town.

Wonwoo promises to make it home safely, and he watches you enter your house before turning and making his way to his own.

Later that night you lay awake, palm pressed to your racing heart, replaying the moment Wonwoo called you lovely over and over again in your mind.

The next few days are spent with you staying busy, too busy even to go see Wonwoo for your dress. Pruning the persimmon trees and overall maintenance of the farm are the allotted tasks that fall to you. The workload is a bit heavy due to your sister and her family’s absence.

You’ve taken to sleeping in Wonwoo’s linen shirt, his pants have been washed and folded, but perhaps selfishly, you can't bring yourself to part from his shirt. It smells like him, petrichor with a light musk and the hint of something floral. It's intoxicating and the scent lulls you to sleep better than any tea you’ve ever had.

Sadly, you aren’t meant to hold on to the young doctor’s clothes forever. You have your mother wash the shirt, and find a bag to put Wonwoo’s clean clothes in so they can be returned to him. You intend to slip out quickly, but when your mother catches wind of your plans she rushes off to grab a few persimmons to send with you.

“Please, he’ll be sick of persimmons at this rate,” you whine.

She ignores your concern, slipping the wrapped fruits into your hand. “Nonsense! Nobody can be sick of persimmons,” she argues.

Soon, you are on your way to the doctor’s office. Unfortunately, with the persimmons in tow. The walk to town is pleasant enough, and you get a sense of tranquility with nobody else on the path except for yourself and the occasional woodland creature that makes an appearance.

You made a point to doll yourself up just a bit, wanting to leave Wonwoo with a better impression of yourself than last time. You don’t have high hopes, but perhaps just a hope that Wonwoo holds any feelings other than cordiality towards you. Your dress today is a dusty pink, and you’d found your sister’s rouge and applied a smidge to your cheeks and lips.

The air is somewhat brisk, as it usually is in early fall, but the chill still makes you shiver slightly. Red and yellow tipped leaves sway in the crisp wind, it is undoubtedly autumn. Soon enough you are at the entrance of town, face burning with embarrassment as you catch a glance of the fountain, remembering the events that transpired there.

Your pace quickens.

As you come upon Wonwoo’s practice, you are surprised to see him waiting outside. Giving you a small smile and a wave when he notices you.

“Good Morning,” he greets you with a honeyed voice.

“Morning,” is your soft reply, “do you always mill about outside this early?”

This makes the doctor chuckle. “No, not usually. I saw you coming up the path from my window, so I figured it was only right that I came to greet you.”

“Oh,” you try to fight the heat blooming on your cheeks, “I have your clothes, freshly laundered. Mother thought it pertinent to slip in a few persimmons even though I told her you’re probably sick of them by now.”

The smile has not left his lips yet, and he reaches out to take the bag from your hand, fingers brushing against your own. “I could never be sick of persimmons,” he replies, “after all, everytime I have one I think of you.”

The heat rushes back tenfold, you are beyond flustered and you think Wonwoo notices because of the way his lips quirk up. You feel your brain has been fried at just those few words and you struggle to form a reply. Thankfully, Wonwoo takes pity on you, despite being the cause of your non-functioning state.

“Your dress is upstairs,” he tells you, “I didn’t want it to get wrinkled so I hung it up as best I could. If you’d like, we could go upstairs and retrieve it or I can always bring it down to you.”

“We can go upstairs,” your voice small as you reply, your heart fluttering shamelessly in your chest at the thought of being in Wonwoo’s cozy home once more.

The fluttering of your heart does not stop even as the two of you climb the steps.

You get a lovely sense of warmth when the two of you enter, and you look at the wood stove still kindling. Wonwoo guides you to sit in his armchair, disappearing to the area his kitchenette is. You watch him grab a resting teapot and pour whatever resides within it into a mug. The mug is then wordless placed in your hands, and you murmur a soft “thank you”.

“Apple blackberry tea,” he explains, “I thought you might need some warming up from the chill.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” you reply softly, “thank you.”

A small smile twitches at Wonwoo’s lips as he watches you cradle the mug and bring it to your lips to taste the tea. “Your dress is in the other room, give me a moment.”

You nod, taking another slow sip of the delicious tea. Both fruits pair surprisingly well, and it seems to be the perfect blend for a crisp autumn day.

Wonwoo returns, your dress folded meticulously and resting in his hands. Despite how well worn it is it looks almost brand new, testament to his care of it.

“Oh, you didn’t have to go to all the trouble!” You stand to take the dress from Wonwoo’s hand, fondness swimming in your chest.

The man just shakes his head, “It was no trouble. It's something that belongs to you so I wanted to make sure it returned to you in an adequate condition.”

You press the garment to your chest, your eyes meeting his. You try to think of what to say to convey your gratitude but nothing seems good enough.

It's almost as if Wonwoo turns bashful under your gaze as he rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t intend to keep you longer, I would accompany you back to your home but unfortunately I have a few patients to see this morning.”

You snap back to reality at this, “Oh! Don’t apologize please, you’ve done more than enough for me, Wonwoo. I can make my way home no problem. Thank you again, for everything.” You give him a nod, walking past him to the door. However, before you can turn the knob you feel a hand at the crook of your arm, pulling you gently to a halt.

Glancing behind yourself, you see that Wonwoo has stopped you. An emotion you can’t quite place swims within his eyes, and it just adds to your confusion.

“Wonwoo..?” You say slowly, when neither of you has spoken for a stretch of moments.

He uses his delicate grip on you to turn your body so you two face each other once more, and the hand on your arm raises slowly to hold your cheek. Suddenly, his thumb is rubbing against your scar gently. He whispers your name and you feel as if you’ve been caught in a trance, you can’t speak, move, or think. All you can do is breathe and feel Wonwoo’s touch.

His eyes trace the lines of your face, before they find yours. “From this moment onwards, I intend to court you. If you’ll have me.”

His words stun you, a moment of silence passing between the two of you before it is broken by your mouth, moving faster than your mind can. “Yes, I’ll have you. Of course I will,” You say breathily.

A smile tugs on Wonwoo’s lips and then he is leaning down to brush his lips over your scar, his hand falling from your cheek and finding your own.

⊱ notes: as always thank you for reading! it really was a pleasure to write this doctor wonu is very dear to me <3333

#wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #bee.pollen #fic.

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suguru-getos · 4 months

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Genshin Impact characters and how they comfort you (F!Reader):

A/N: It's been a while lovelies :P since yours truly touched Genshin Impact. In all honesty, the game remains to be my comfort game & the characters give me so much joy. Here's me, word-vomiting about them blorbos. ;)

Characters included: Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Alhaitham, Ayato

Neuvillette:

The only reason he hasn't cried (yet) is because he is thinking hard on what to do when you're blue. Would probably suggest that you and him go together for a walk! Hey! Don't judge him - a walk fixes everything. Besides, someone who hasn't had a romantic interest in centuries really needs to learn a thing or two. He doesn't mind writing an official application about his absence and walking along the streets of Fontaine with you. He knows the Melusine village brings you a lot of comfort so it's also his go-to place whenever he's feeling down. He tried making you taste different kinds of waters - yep, didn't end well for the Hydro Dragon Sovereign. However, lessons are to be learnt and he learnt them well! Now, he has realized that mostly, your sadness can be satiated with something delectable to soothe your tongue. He started with soup, well? Naturally.. though that didn't end well either. He now has realized what he might like, you might/might not. So, he takes the more aware turn & takes you to places you like, or sometimes doesn't do anything. Happily wraps his arms around you, kisses your forehead and doesn't say anything. Silence and hugs? Best! He's noticed you like that far better.

Ayato:

The Yashiro Commissioner is a cocky fellow, and sometimes a tad too overconfident. He thinks he knows you inside out; that's not something he refers from you though. He thinks it's because no one can ever love you more than Kamisato Ayato. (He is kinda right? Though what's worse is he is mostly correct about the things that you need.) Like - he knows when that period begins, and when the mood swings absolutely obliterate you; he knows some Fontainian chocolate, or Mousse will come to the rescue. Some dangos might also help. The Kamisato Estate staff is trained to not fall pale to your needs. You & him both know that with all the travel opportunities you accompany Ayato in, you do have taste-buds which would be bored with Inazuman food alone. Whenever there is something bothering you personally, Ayato would ask you to vent it out. He firmly believes in annoying you with persistent cooing and crooning of, "Hey Princess, what's got that pretty face so long?" / "Oh come now, don't tell me you would hide things from your husband? I feel judged already. Do I not deserve to know?" You do end up telling him everything - and while Ayato is surprisingly good at giving advices… you always like how he asks first, if you want him to listen, or give his opinions.

Alhaitham:

The Scribe of Sumeru's Akademiya who is also your boyfriend - usually takes the overly analytical route, rationalizing everything. So you often don't tell him about the things that bother you. Since he is so observant and keen however, you can never really slide something that's got you down under the rug either. "You are behaving differently." Alhaitham commented, "Usually when you come home, from outside… you freshen up." He comments at the lack thereof, watching you squirm under his gaze. Of course, whenever you feel down your mind and body send you in a slump. "Oh- yeah, I'll get to that." You quickly comment, though you're cut off by his tender hold on your wrist. "Course you can, something wrong?" Now he knows the 'Female Anatomy', as he likes to call it. Often going out of his way to explain your hormonal cycle, what you should do when you are in your leutal, menstrual, ovulation phases etc. You don't have to say much in certain times as such. Though he acts like nothing's the matter when you do vent about let's say - something at work/Akademiya; there have been instances where he would pay personal visits to some people for pissing his girl off. Duality? Yep.

Wriothesley:

'His' Grace; is extremely kind to everyone, and fair. You being his significant other, get your own perks from time to time. For example: He is always available for tea for his little one. He is always available to listen to you whenever. He considers it fortunate enough that you are willing to live in the Fortress of Meropide with him - he knows it's the harshest decision especially from someone who hasn't done any crime whatsoever. There are days when even someone like Wriothesley (who seldom goes out) makes sure that he visits the world up above with you. Might take you to the Opera, might take you to those fabulous boutiques, anything and everything fashion the second he notices your eyes glim. Nope, none of that is tolerated here. The prisoners have started calling you 'Her Grace'; while you do not prefer it, Wriothesley does not mind, he is fine with you being treated like someone treasured. That would ensure that people around you would tend to you also, when you're down. Damn does this man love body massages, giving them to you and watching your shoulders slump. He needs to be so careful with you though. Can’t be too rough else his little baby would break… <3

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daycourtofficial · 3 months

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Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 4

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Masterlist)

Author’s note: I love this series and I want to thank everyone who comments/reblogs/likes. I love you all and it gives me so much motivation to keep working on this series 💕

Cassian limped out of his room, using the wall for support as he walked into the living room.

“Sweetheart, can you grab me the ice pack from the freezer?”

You and Feyre had been in the kitchen making waffles, but the two of you make your way over to Cassian to help him, abandoning the batter you were making. You grab the ice pack from the freezer and a hand towel to wrap around it, while Feyre walks over to help ease Cassian onto the couch, helping him prop his leg up on the coffee table.

You place the ice pack on his knee, grabbing a throw pillow and placing it under his leg.

“Are you okay? What happened?” You ask, concern etched onto your brows.

He sighs, “just my knee flares up if I do too much, and I got a little ambitious with the girl I hooked up with last night.”

Feyre snorts as he waggles his eyebrows. You sit on the arm of the couch facing him, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Cassian leans his head back on the couch, “yeah can you grab my pain meds? They’re probably in my bathroom.”

You scuttle off after he tells you what the bottle looks like, walking through his room into his bathroom. You’re not surprised at how messy it is, clothes litter the floor and papers are strewn across his desk.

You can hear Feyre and Cassian talking but can’t make out what they’re saying as you begin your search. You search through his drawers and medicine cabinet, finding various medicines, condoms, and even pads, but not the bottle he described. The sight of the pads reminds you of a story Mor told where she had told Cassian she was on her period and his response was, “let’s get messy, baby.” You shake the memory away, heading back to tell him the bad news.

“Bad news bud - no medicine.”

He groans, “where the hell did I have it last?” He starts muttering to himself, hoping he didn’t leave it at the gym, when he points to you.

“It’s next door - Az has it. I stuffed it in his gym bag. Could you go check for me?”

Last time you saw Azriel, you had fallen asleep on his thighs, most likely drooling over them in your slumber.

You woke up to a dark room, the tv screen black with disuse. You lift your head, your hand using the pillow to push yourself up. You move your head to find hazel eyes looking into your own.

Your head is a few inches off his thigh, your hand wrapped around it for support.

“Um, hi,” you say, a moment later realizing your hand was on his thigh, quickly pulling it away. You take a quick moment to check the side of your mouth with your hand, praying to any god that will listen that you weren’t drooling on him.

“Hi,” he tells you, “you missed a good movie.”

“Rain check?” You ask, and he chuckles.

“Are you going to fall asleep again?”

“If you ask me, no, but if you ask my friend Feyre, the answer is likely yes.”

He laughs, and you realize his hand is in your hair, as he untangles your hair from his fingers.

“That’s okay. We’ll just have to keep watching it until eventually you make it to the end.”

“Uh, yeah, sure Cass.”

You start to leave, but Feyre grabs your arm. “I just told Cassian about how we’re going axe throwing. I invited him and his brothers.”

Feyre winks at you as she’s turned away from Cassian, and you give her a look.

Nosey busybody. All because you had told her you fell asleep on Azriel last night. And how he was so kind to help you drop the truck off. And how damningly beautiful he was.

Curse your big mouth.

“You should ask them if they want to come while you’re over there. Cassian’s coming, if they’ll find that enticing.”

Her words mean one thing, but her eyebrow waggling screams, I don’t think Cassian will be the reason one of them comes.

You wander over next door, knocking as you approach their door. Your mind starts wandering while you wait for a response, and you wonder if they used to always meet in Rhys and Az’s apartment.

Your thoughts still when Azriel opens the door, surprise on his face as he looks at you. He’s shirtless, his tan chest on full display, some black shadow-esque tattoos adorning his shoulders. Your eyes trace the design, roving over his muscular chest.

You want to lick them.

You shake the intrusive thought away, and Azriel grins ever so slightly at your blatant ogling of him. You tell him, “Uh Cassian’s knee is acting up and he said he thinks his meds are in your gym bag?”

He opens the door wider, letting you in. “What’d he do to mess up his knee this time?”

You follow him as he leads you into the apartment, your words dying on your tongue, “something about getting too ambitious with a girl - what the fuck?”

Azriel stops to find you staring at their tv, an absolutely massive screen mounted to their wall. It practically takes up most of the wall, and you imagine watching a movie on it would feel life-sized. “And I thought Cassian had the biggest tv I’d ever seen.”

Azriel chuckles, “they got drunk one night and started having a pissing contest over who was bigger, and it escalated to them both buying absurdly large televisions.”

He rolls his eyes at the memory of them drunkenly purchasing tvs online, forgetting about the ordeal until they appeared a few days later, Cassian refusing to use Rhys’s tv for a week in solidarity of his manhood.

You two start moving towards Azriel’s room, worry brewing in your mind over what to do. To follow could be overstepping, to linger could be weird. He leaves his door wide open, looking back to see if you’re following, so you decide to be brave and step through his door.

His room is dark, black out curtains with tiny moons sewn into them adorning his windows. His bed is neatly made, a deep blue comforter laying on top. Your eyes are drawn to the little bat stuffed animal that sits on his pillows.

His room is neat - dirty clothes kept in a hamper in the corner, books neatly stacked on his nightstand and on a bookshelf. He even has paper tray organizers on his desk.

His laptop is open at his desk, the screen still lit with whatever he was doing before you knocked. You see a familiar photo of you and Mor on the screen before it cuts to black, leaving you confused.

You shake the thoughts away, telling him “I like the little bat.”

He stills, looking over at the thing. His face falls a bit, but he quickly corrects it, going back to his search for the bag.

“Thanks, Cass got it for me.”

“That’s sweet,” you tell him.

You breathe deeply, the air in the room shifting, but you’re not really sure why. You don’t want this to be the end of your interaction with him, so you ask, “so Cassian told me you’re a personal trainer?”

He bends over to pick up his gym bag from the floor, your eyes roving down his toned back to the shorts that generously show off his thighs. Maybe you could join their gym if you got to see him like this, tanned thighs and chest on full display.

“Yeah, he helped me get the job, actually. I’ve been working a lot more over the summer, trying to save money for when classes are in session.”

You nod, as he finds the bottle in his bag. “Do you like it?”

He walks back over to you, escorting you out of his room. “S’okay. Cassian’s much better at it than I am, but it’s not hard.”

You nod, wondering how both of them are at their jobs. You can imagine Cassian being loud and rambuctious, a personality trait you can’t see him without. Shouting motivational words as you squat. On the other hand you can see Azriel being calm, quiet, his presence hardly noticeable as you train, offering occasional motivation but knowing what his clients actually need is just someone there.

He reaches his hand out to give you the bottle, and you break your eye contact with him to grab it. His fingers brush over your hand, electricity crackling on your skin from his touch.

You look at his hands, noticing them for the first time. Covered in scars, the skin is scarred over, the texture rough and uneven. His touch is soft and warm, a contrast to the harshness of his hands. You don’t let your eyes linger on his hand for too long, worrying you’re invading his privacy.

You duck your head down, fighting the heat on your cheeks from his touch. If he notices, he doesn’t let on as you pull your hand back with the bottle, uncertain how long your hands had been in contact.

“Thanks I um, Cassian will appreciate this.” You give him a toothless smile, one that he matches. His eyes have a look about them, but you can’t spend too long thinking about it, especially considering Feyre was likely conspiring with Cassian as you two spoke.

“I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing before,” you say, reaching for the doorknob.

“I’ll see you later,” he tells you.

Your hand stills on the knob and you turn to look back at him. “Are you doing anything today? Around 3?”

He shakes his head no, “not really - why?”

“My friend Feyre and I are going to go to this place to try out axe throwing and I was wondering if you wanted to come with?”

His eyes widen in surprise, but you continue before he can reject you.

“Um Cassian’s coming, and Rhys is invited too if he wanted to come. It’s no big deal if you guys don’t want to - Feyre and I probably won’t be any good.”

He watches you tuck your hair behind your ear and he realizes you’re rambling. Despite how cute he finds it, how cute he finds you, he cuts you off. “I’ll come - I’ll text Rhys too.”

You smile broadly at him, a sight he’ll definitely be thinking about until he sees you again, “okay, um yeah I’ll uh see you then? You can come over to our place and we can all leave together.”

You’re about to leave again when you backtrack, “uh, come over at 2:30 so we can leave together. See you then!”

After you’ve left, he listens to your feet pad down the hall, and the door to the apartment next door opening and closing. He looks to the wall that separates your apartments, as if he can see you giving Cassian the medicine.

He trudges back to his room, furling and unfurling his fist, his skin hot from your touch. The image of you looking at his hands printed in his brain. You didn’t look at him in pity, perhaps the first person to do so. You looked at him like he was resilient, like he was more than what happened to him, like he was more than the scars littering his hands.

He lets the thoughts whirl in his brain as he logs back into his laptop, the screen lighting up with your social media pages he had been scrolling through. He tells himself it’s just to see who Cassian is living with and if she can be trusted, if she seems okay. He also decides if she happens to be seeing anyone is also pertinent information.

For Cassian’s safety, of course.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar writing #azriel x y/n

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toomuchracket · 1 month

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if you're too shy, part 2 (office nerd!matty x reader fluff)

remember those gigs you and matty got scheduled to cover in part 1? yeah. this is them. enjoy <3

“hey.”

matty's curls bounce as he looks up at you quickly. a mild sense of guilt gnaws at your ribs when you realise you've spooked him, but it dissipates when he smiles, visibly relaxing when he realises it's you breaking him from his concentration. “oh, hi. you alright?”

you nod, gesturing to the vacant desk next to his. “am i ok to sit here?”

“yeah, of course. no need to ask. here, let me,” matty slides his notebook out of your way; as you lay your laptop down and sit, you can see him biting back a beam from the corner of your eye, and your heart flutters. “was there anything you needed, or…? not that there has to be, you know,” he sits up straight, apology settling itself on that gorgeous face of his. “i didn't mean it like that, i just meant-”

“no, i know, matty,” you smile softly. “there is, incidentally, but also i just wanted to sit next to you.”

there he goes with the blushing again - honestly, you reckon you could make a fortune if you bottled and sold the colour of matty's cheeks when you fluster him. although, you suppose, maybe the colour is only appealing because of whose face it's on.

said face is grinning at you again. “well, feel free, anytime.”

“likewise.”

“i'll take you up on that,” matty's smile gets impossibly wider, before he catches himself and controls it a little. “so, what is it that you need from me?”

the sloppiest kiss known to man. “advice, actually,” you put your glasses on, preening internally at the way matty's breath catches in his throat as you do, and open spotify on your laptop. “where should i start with this band we're going to see twice this weekend?”

matty's face brightens even more - impossible, you'd have thought. “oh. well, do you know any of their stuff already?”

you shake your head. “very bad of me as a music journo, but no,” you smile cheekily. “this is my first time. need you to talk me through it.”

the way matty coughs and tries to pass it off as him clearing his throat at your words is delicious. to be fair to him, he recovers quickly, the only sign of him being flustered the way his cheeks periodically twitch into a smile and back down again. “alright, so… i think i’d probably start with their second album - can i?” at your approval, he slides your laptop closer to him and scrolls down the band’s spotify profile to find the album in question. “their first is good, yeah, but the second one is where they really start to define their musical identity…” he trails off, covering his mouth.

you blink in concern, leaning into him. “you okay, matty?”

“yeah, i just,” he sighs, then giggles into his hand. it’s maybe the best thing you’ve ever heard. “i realised i was starting to sound a bit like patrick bateman.”

“oh my god,” you snort, covering your own mouth as you laugh. “christ, you were. was this band’s early work too new-wave for your tastes and all?”

“little bit. i think their undisputed masterpiece is album two - literally a personal statement about the band itself,” matty smiles, then winces. “that was embarrassing.”

you shrug. “nah, i like that film. and not just because i think christian bale’s fit in it.”

“i was gonna go as him for halloween this year, actually,” matty says, nonchalantly scrolling through spotify again. “would that be weird?”

fuck. matty in a suit? potentially covered in blood? you have to readjust the way you’re sitting at the mere thought. so, naturally - “i think you should do it.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” you smile, matching matty’s. “i’d enjoy it, at least.”

“that’s all the convincing i need,” he smiles sweetly at you, then gestures to the laptop. “so, d’you wanna know a bit about their influences before you listen?”

“go on, then.”

“alright,” matty shuffles his chair closer to you; you sit up slightly straighter as goosebumps pass over your body, increasing tenfold when he looks directly into your eyes. from this close, his are warmer than you initially realised, and you have to work extremely hard to focus on what he's saying instead of drowning in them. “to be fair, you weren't totally far-off with the new-wave joke - their music is rooted in post-punk subculture, but more along the melodic, jangly-guitar, early eighties type. you know aztec camera, yeah? convinced i saw you wear a high land, hard rain shirt to work once.”

the butterflies nesting in your stomach flutter at his recollection. “yeah, that's right. same vibe as them?”

“kinda. similar to a lot of scottish and northern bands of that era. which is weird, considering they're all about thirty and from fucking newark.”

“i see,” you nod, smiling at the way matty's twirling one of his curls. “any springsteen influence, then? not to stereotype, but… eighties-inspired music by people from new jersey? seems like there could be connection.”

matty nods enthusiastically. “yeah, great question. i mean,” he puffs air through his lips quite adorably. “lyrically, yeah, and they have quite prominent sax parts in some of the songs that are quite e street band. but the inspiration seems to be mostly melodic post-punk. does that all make sense?”

you smile, leaning on your elbow. “yeah. you're very good at explaining things. i like that about you.”

“really?” matty blushes again. “sometimes i worry that i'm just talking shite, to be honest. i know i've got a tendency to ramble a bit, always have. it annoys people, i think.”

“not me. you're always talking about something interesting. makes me feel good to talk to you.”

he clutches his hands into sweater paws again, smiling. “same. you're a sweet one, i think. m'excited that we're working a bit closer now.”

“nobody else i'd do this with, matty,” you hold out your hand, and squeeze his when he lays it atop yours; a perfect fit, you note. “you're my favourite.”

he genuinely looks like he could cry, softly rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand and speaking even softer than that. “likewise, darling.”

for a second, you do nothing but beam at each other, still tentatively holding hands; it's only when your laptop pings with an incoming email that you break out of your reverie and apart. matty clears his throat. “would you like to know which order i recommend listening to the albums in?”

“please.”

he nods. “the second, then the most recent - which is the fifth, by the way. after that, i think i'd probably say… first, third, and fourth last. that one got a bit experimental, i doubt they'll play anything from it at either of the shows. d'you want me to just make a playlist of that order for you, while we're here?”

“oh, yes please,” you watch him do just that, a slight sense of longing settling itself in your bones when you think of a playlist so sorely him settled amidst all your favourite songs; actually, it gives you an idea. “i've got a final question for you, if that's okay, matty. well, technically two.”

“yeah?” he turns to look at you again, eyes disarmingly caring and focused on you.

“what's your absolute favourite song by the band? doesn't have to be the objectively best one, and you don't have to tell me why. m'just curious.”

matty smiles, the sun breaking through clouds. “that's easy,” he scrolls down the new playlist. “this one. that's my favourite.”

“alright,” you drag it to the top of the song list. “then that's the one i'll start with. and then i'll go onto the matty-approved listening order,” pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose, you turn to face him. “that sound alright?”

“mhmm,” matty nods vigorously again, wild hair bouncing all over the place; a curl falls over his eye, and he brushes it away before peering up at you through his enviously-long lashes. “meant what i said earlier, you know. i really do think you're incredibly sweet.”

“thank you,” you all but whisper, doing your best to cover your own blushing. “um - what was i saying?”

he smiles. “you had another question, i think?”

“right, yeah. um,” your throat goes dry with sudden nerves, and you try to swallow as inconspicuous as you can to make it better. twisting your fingers together, you look down at them as you speak. “i've still got a restaurant review to do this weekend, and i was wondering if you, like, wanted to go for dinner before saturday’s show? that italian, near camden road station? and you can say no, of course, no hard feelings, but,” you can feel your cheeks burning as you tentatively look up at him. “i'd just like to hang out with you a little bit longer this weekend. i like spending time with you.”

“oh,” matty breathes, blinking as if he can’t quite believe he isn’t dreaming - you hope that’s the reason, at least. he bites his lip, cheeks rosy as he looks up at you with a smile, and nods. “yeah, i’d love that. thank you.”

“thank you, for agreeing,” you exhale, nerves replaced by tingling excitement. “is half four too early? that would give us time to eat, and walk to the roundhouse before doors, yeah?”

“that works for me,” matty nods. he twirls his hair again. “d’you want to just meet at the restaurant? cos that’s the station i’d get off at, camden road. but i don’t mind meeting you off the tube, if you like.”

“no, no, it’s alright. i’ll just get you there - i’m not gonna make you brave the high street when you don’t need to,” you giggle. “especially on a saturday afternoon, christ.”

he huffs out a laugh, but his eyes are tender - so is his voice, when he replies. “alright. i’d do it for you, though, no complaints.”

you believe him. you aren’t sure if you’ve ever seen someone look so sweetly sincere, and it’s fucking your brain up. big-time.

still, you hold it together long enough to reply. “you’re cute, healy, even if i think you’re a bit mad for offering to walk through camden just to get me,” you giggle at the way his jaw drops at the compliment. “you can get me at angel on friday, though, if you fancy? makes sense, if you’re already walking down from highbury.”

“i’ll be there at six,” matty smiles. “i’m excited to hear what you think of the band, you know. i think you’ll like them.”

“well, if you do, then i’m sure i will. you’ve got good taste,” you gather up your laptop and stand, turning to matty with a flirty grin. “speaking of - i like that jumper. you look hot in red, matty. really hot. anyway,” you bite back a grin at the little gasp he lets out. “thanks for all your help, lovely.”

“anytime!” he calls after you when you turn to walk away, deliberately swinging your hips slightly more than usual - you’re convinced you hear a muffled “fuck” before he speaks properly. “and, um, thanks for, y’know, liking my jumper.”

you look over your shoulder and wink, happiness bubbling through your body when you notice matty shifting his gaze from your ass to your face so hastily it’s a wonder his neck didn’t snap. “friday at six, yeah? don’t be late.”

“i won’t!”

and he’s true to his word - when you come up the escalators at angel station at five minutes to six on friday, matty’s leaning against the wall opposite you. he grins, a big toothy eye-crinkling smile that has your heart doing backflips, and waves as you walk over to him. “hi! i like your jacket.”

“oh, thank you,” you self-consciously touch the fluffy collar. “have you been waiting long?”

“not really. ten minutes?”

“that’s not too bad. shall we?” you wander out into the chilly evening air, matty matching pace beside you. “you ever been to a show here before?”

“yeah. what a fucking weird venue,” matty steps closer to you to avoid being run over by a bike, and your heart flutters; you’re actually sad when he moves away. “i like it inside, but-”

“the fact it’s literally in the middle of a shopping centre is insane?”

“completely mental.”

“a really strange bit of urban planning,” you smile, turning to him as you wait at a set of traffic lights. “i listened to the playlist you made me, by the way. even learned some of the words.”

matty laughs. “you like them, then? that’s good. knew you would, though.”

you nod, fighting the urge to grab his hand as you cross the road. “played your favourite song about ten times on loop. i had no idea it was going to end up being a love song, by the way…”

“yeah, the title’s a bit misleading.”

“...but it really works. i can see why it’s your favourite,” you gently nudge your shoulder into his arm. “like i said the other day, you’ve got good taste.”

he looks down at the pavement, smiling, then at you. fuck, he’s so cute. “so do you, darling,” he says, voice so soft you can hardly hear it over the bustle around you. “i really like your outfit.”

the hour spent upending your entire wardrobe onto your bed to pick it out was absolutely worth it. “thank you. i figured, y’know, since i’m technically not working,” you smirk at him. “i’d make the effort for going out. tomorrow, though, when i’m on-shift? not a chance.”

“you’ll still look great, i reckon,” matty says, easy as breathing; ironically, the ease of his words practically stops your own breath. “and yeah, i s’pose you really aren’t working tonight. when was the last time you went to a gig just for fun?”

“it’s been a while,” you admit. “and i miss it, actually, getting to just experience new artists without having to analyse and critique them. that’s part of the reason i’m excited to be going tonight.”

“i get that,” matty nods as you turn into the venue entrance. “and what’s the other part?”

you grin. “the fact i’m going with you.”

once again, matty blushes. “if you keep throwing me off with compliments the whole night, i literally won’t get any work done. but thank you. m’glad you agreed to come with me tonight.”

“i’m glad you asked,” you turn to him once you join the line to get in. “and you’ll get your work done, don’t worry. i promise to be good.”

for the most part, you actually succeed at that, and it’s largely due to how bloody good the band are. for all the venue is in a weird place, it really is a decent one - it’s so intimate that even you, who only started listening to the artists onstage this week, feel like a proper part of it. and, free of note-taking responsibilities, you can allow yourself to be made giddy by the coloured lights and loud melodies, to dance as best you can on the sticky floor, to sing along to the scraps of lyrics you recognise and join in the backing vocals with the rest of the crowd. that was always your favourite part of a concert, the moments where hundreds of voices just worked as one, identities dropping and merging to prioritise the music; it’s nice to be in it, for once, rather than doing your best to observe and capture and convey it in words. you leave that to matty, and mostly leave him be aside from the odd smile and laugh, always responded to warmly by him.

that is, until they play his favourite song, and the boy beside you becomes impossible to ignore.

the singer says something about this being the last song of the night, before beginning the now-familiar melody on his guitar. matty’s head snaps up at the first few notes, and his notebook snaps shut; you turn to him at the noise, smiling at the excitement on his face, even more radiant than usual under the pink lighting. he looks at you with a matching smile, curls bouncing as he nods along to the music, before turning back rapt towards the stage. you follow suit, soaking up the lyrics about wanting and yearning and falling fast for someone - hearing those words with that person beside you sends goosebumps shooting across your skin and sparks through your nervous system, the same kind of kinetic energy crackling in the space between you and matty. it’s so strong you have to uncross your arms, stretching your fingers out by your side. mortifyingly, they brush against the back of matty’s hand, and the sparks become shockwaves; not so much born out of fear, but of the same kind of longing the singer is musing about. he doesn’t seem to mind the contact, hand staying put despite it, and something in your brain just says fuck it and snaps.

tentatively, more so than you think you’ve ever been before, you loop your fingers around matty’s, and you hold his hand. and, quite honestly, nothing has ever felt quite so right as this. the shockwaves in your nervous system fade to a gentle hum, kinda like the reverb from the speakers, with only a tiny jolt when matty gently squeezes your hand in response.that’s how you stay for the rest of the song, hand-in-hand facing the stage, both of you - unbeknownst to the other - smiling contentedly and mouthing the lyrics to the song you relate to.

it lasts a sickeningly short amount of time, though - as soon as the song ends, you and matty are all but pulled apart by a group of kids running towards the stage, shouting about setlists and drumsticks and god knows what else. matty chuckles, walking backwards towards the exit so he can talk to you. "that was good.”

“yeah,” you agree, although you’re not sure what he’s specifically referring to. “liked it a lot.”

“me too.”

there’s comfortable silence as you weave your way out of the venue and onto the street. you turn to say a reluctant goodbye to matty, but he beats you to it. “i’ll walk you to the station.”

“are you sure? you’ve got a bit of a walk in the other direction, matty.”

he shrugs. “it’s a nice night. i don’t mind.”

“cool,” you do your best to keep from smiling at the thought of an extra five minutes with him. “thank you.”

“s'alright,” matty smiles, leading the way down the street. “i've had a lot of fun tonight.”

“yeah, same here. they're really good!”

“aren't they? i'm excited to see their set tomorrow, see how it compares,” he hums happily. “i think this is gonna turn out to be a really good article, you know.”

“so do i,” you beam at him. “and i must say, i'm enjoying the process for this one much more than i have in a while.”

he giggles, and you have to fight the urge to hold his hand again. “well, if you think about it,” matty rubs his thumb over his bottom lip quite attractively. “it makes a lot more sense for us to do gig reviews together. music is something to be shared, after all, and live music especially, and so are our reviews - we probably get a better sense of it all if we're not by ourselves, don't you think?”

you don't even bother trying to hide how enamoured you are when you look at him. “i love the way your brain works, matty.”

“oh, shush,” he clutches the sleeves of his jacket over his hands, but beams anyway; it drops from his face when he notices the tube station sign up ahead. “well, i suppose this is where i leave you.”

the melancholia in his voice makes your heart sink. “yeah, i guess,” you sigh. “but not for long, though.”

“true,” matty's face brightens, and he reaches to take your hand and squeeze it gently. “thanks for coming, darling. i had a lot of fun.”

“thank you for having me,” you squeeze his hand in return, smiling at the way he looks down at your connected fingers in wonder. “text me when you get home?”

“of course. you too, please.”

“i will,” you let go of matty, pausing before you turn to walk away; quicker than your brain can convince you otherwise, you lean up to press a kiss to his soft cheek, before winking at his dazed expression and turning towards the station. “see you tomorrow, lovely.”

“bye,” comes the soft, delayed reply. you turn back to wave once you reach the escalator, then smile giddily to yourself the whole way home.

in fact, you don't think you stop smiling giddily for the rest of the night, or the next day; just the knowledge that you're going to see matty again keeps you in a state of sunniness, has you dancing around the flat and serenading your dog, who just looks at you like you're insane. a tiny part of your brain agrees with her, but how can you be expected to help it? you haven't been this excited to go on a date with someone in a long, long time.

well, it's not a date, officially. but walking into a dimly-lit italian restaurant with matty in tow, him taking your jacket and pulling your chair out for you like a perfect gentleman? it fucking feels like it. you wish it was.

even more so when he takes his own jacket off, revealing A) a short-sleeved shirt in the same colour of red you told him he looked hot in the other day, worn slightly open over a white tank; B) almost-unbelievably muscular arms; C) tattoos littered up said arms, and one on his chest just peeking out suggestively.

jesus fucking christ.

you can’t help but stare at matty, mouth agape, as he sits down. he giggles nervously when he notices. “what?”

the words leave your mouth before you can even think about stopping them. “matty… do you know how hot you are?”

he does the adorable blinking thing again. “you think i’m hot? me?”

“um, yeah, i have eyes,” you giggle, cheeks burning. keep it together, you stupid slut. “i didn’t know you had all those tattoos, actually. why don’t you show them off more?”

matty shrugs. “sometimes, people think if you have lots of tattoos, you’re like, i don’t know… scary, or unapproachable,” he opens the drinks menu. “that’s not the impression i wanna give off, you know? especially at work. like, you know me, i’m quite soft and quiet. i just think the tattoos look sick.”

god, you want to eat him alive.

“i understand,” you nod, leaning on your elbows. “and i also think they look sick. kinda sexy, i’d say, to be honest. anyway,” you bite back a smirk at matty’s flustered expression. “what sort of drink are you in the mood for?”

“oh, well… i don’t know, actually,” matty scans the menu, then meets your eyes. “i’m new to this sort of reviewing. what do you usually do first? talk me through it,” he must mistake your wide eyes after his last statement for horror, instead of slight arousal. “please.”

“okay. can i see the menu, please? right, fab, thanks,” you hold it open so you can both see the drinks list. “shit, this is extensive… reasonably priced, would you say?”

“for this part of london? yeah.”

“i agree. right,” you look at him, and the concentration with which he looks back almost throws you off. “because we haven’t picked out food and don’t know about flavour palettes yet, i’d avoid wine for the time being. anything too flavoured, actually - i reckon our best bets are either some sort of fairly neutral cocktail, or a spirit and clear mixer. you know, vodka soda, a g&t, that kind of thing.”

matty nods. “makes sense.”

“yeah. the exception to all of that, in my opinion, is champagne,” you smile. “but if i start drinking it, i won’t want to stop, and if i kick the arse out of this meal on the work credit card then marianne will kick mine, so…”

he laughs, and the warmth of it goes straight to your stomach. “classy girl,” he smiles, laughing even harder when you make a face. “well, i think you are. and,” he points at the menu. “i also think we should have negronis.”

“nice. alright, let’s move on to food,” you open another menu. “oh, thank god we came here so early - this decision might take me a while. sorry.”

matty smiles, the tenderness in his eyes only exacerbated by the flickering candlelight. “that’s alright, darling. we’ll take all the time you need. well,” he winces. “maybe keep it within the two and a half hours we’ve got until we need to leave for the gig. although i s’pose we could stay here another fifteen minutes if we got a taxi.”

you wave insouciantly. “we’ll be on time. and you’ll have fun, too. promise.”

“oh, i don’t doubt that.”

and you really do have fun, despite having to constantly remind yourself that you’re not on a date and are in fact at work. the two negronis you each have over the course of the meal continue to coax matty out of his shell - and thus, get you to fall even harder for him than you already have, which to be honest you didn’t think was possible after seeing his tattoos - to the point where he’s affectionately taking the piss out of you for stealing forkfuls of his dinner “for journalistic purposes”. but, all in all, he’s completely fascinated by the process of forming your review, taking interest in the subtleties of what makes somewhere good versus great, and marvelling at the breadth of your culinary knowledge (which you’re actually very proud of, being self-taught and all); he’s still raving about it as you walk - with plenty of time to spare, mind you - along chalk farm road towards the roundhouse. “i actually don’t know what i’m more impressed with, you or the food. genuinely. you’re incredible. and to think i was going to make you soup!”

you frown. “past tense? why?”

“you know too much about food. i won’t be able to impress you.”

“matty,” you turn to look at him, wide-eyed and crestfallen. “that’s not true at all!”

he scoffs, but not harshly. “come on, babe,” the nickname does something funny to your stomach. “i’m not upset about it, just thinking realistically. how is my nana’s carrot and coriander recipe gonna stack up against michelin-starred minestrone, or whatever? not at all, that’s how. and that’s alright!”

“matty. matty - alright, fine,” you clear your throat, stopping and standing with your hands on your hips. “matthew. listen to me, and listen good, yeah? right,” when he nods, blinking those pretty eyes, you continue. “soup is a whole different thing - in fact, all domestic cooking is, especially if you’re making something for someone you care about. i don’t want to be impressed by the technique, i want to be nourished. cared for. dare i say, healed. and, in that regard, i have no doubt that your nana’s recipe would fucking decimate any posh restaurant soup. alright?”

he nods, shyly peeking through his eyelashes. “alright.”

“thank you.”

the walk continues, silent for a few minutes until matty talks again. “you know,” he says, smile audible in his voice. “i didn’t think i’d find being lectured about soup sexy. and yet…”

“oh my god, stop it,” you giggle, although you’re simultaneously fighting the urge to skip along the path and secretly filing that piece of matty information away in your mind. just in case. “thanks, though.”

he shrugs, smirking. you’re into it. “just telling the truth. it’s my job, after all.”

“and here i thought you were flirting with me,” you smirk back. “shame,” you wink, speeding up slightly towards the venue; you drop into serious mode when you see several different door queues. “shit. where do we go, with the press passes?”

matty hums, looking around. suddenly, he takes your hand, gently leading you to a side door; you’re quite content with this, a sort-of fuzzy feeling overcoming you, so much so that you barely register him talking. “here we are. you ready, darling?”

you nod happily at him. “round two. let’s go.”

the night, at first, progresses a lot like the previous one - you spend the opening set dancing, singing along to the songs you know pretty well by now, leaning in to talk to matty about any discrepancies you see in performance between both nights while he diligently takes notes. when they close with his favourite song, again, you’re slightly dismayed that he continues to write, and you can’t repeat the hand-holding; pretty much as soon as you’ve thought that, though, matty leans into you to rest his head on yours and sing along to the lyrics, and the room seems to get brighter. out of both desire and necessity (you know how clumsy he is), you wrap an arm around matty’s waist, and you swear you can hear him smile. it’s warm, sweet, intimate without being weird, and you really don’t want to let go of him. ever.

eventually, once the song ends and the house lights come up in the break between sets, you do, pulling your notebook from your jacket pocket with a sigh. matty straightens up, stretches with a groan that should not be as attractive as it was to you, and smiles. “pasta tiredness hitting you too?”

“little bit,” you wince. “maybe dinner then dancing was a bad idea.”

he shakes his head. “nah. it’s been fun. i’ve really enjoyed it.”

“i’m glad to hear that,” you smile at him. “wouldn’t mind making a habit of it, actually.”

“really?” matty beams. “neither would i. maybe we can pitch it to marianne as an actual segment. like, restaurant pairings with gigs, potentially highlight local places near the venues we go to. yeah?”

it’s a fucking great idea. he goes all bashful when you tell him as much. “cool. we can maybe see her about it on monday, if she’s in.”

you nod. “of course. come and find me on monday morning, and we can come up with a proper pitch while we get this piece done, alright?”

“‘course,” matty nods, smiling when the lights drop and the audience scream. “right, i’ll leave you to your notes.”

“cheers,” you reply, reluctantly turning towards the stage. it isn’t that the gig is bad, at all - as you wrote in your notes, the band are talented, charismatic, well-rehearsed. it’s just extremely difficult to focus on them and your notebook when you have the boy of your dreams beside you, close enough to touch and kiss and dance with, singing along happily and doing a dorky little two-step that makes his hair bounce quite beautifully. every so often, the urge to turn and smile at him becomes too much to resist, and matty goes visibly - adorably - pink under the stark white lighting every single time he makes eye contact with you.

by the time the gig ends, you’re dead certain: you are down so incredibly deeply bad for matty healy, and you need to tell him as soon as possible.

as it turns out, the opportunity for that happens extremely quickly once you’re both out of the venue, talking and laughing and dissecting the show even further than you did in your respective notebooks as you leave, and it’s so romance-media smooth that you genuinely think a higher power might be involved. perhaps an apology from the universe by having a group of teenagers push you and matty apart at yesterday’s gig, this time a group of them push you closer together, bolting past you and screaming about catching the bus home - matty tugs you into him to stop you being completely bowled over, and turns so the two of you are right next to the building instead of in the firing line out in the open. his hands are warm against your waist and lower back, and so is his neck under your clasped hands; you have no recollection of putting them there, but you sure as shit aren’t going to move them anytime soon. if you did that, you’d further the distance between you, and why on earth would you want to do that, when you’re so close you can’t tell whose breath cloud is whose and the little flecks of gold in his dark eyes are visible to you for the first time?

no. you’ll stay as you are, thank you very much.

“you know that thing we were going to pitch to marianne at work on monday?” you whisper, heart pounding as you notice matty’s eyes flick to your lips. “the thing we want to make a habit of?”

“yeah,” matty breathes, the words so close to your lips you can practically taste them. “what about it?”

your lips part, and you take a shaky breath before you reply. “well, the thing is,” you bite your lip, and his pupils dilate. “i don’t think i want it to be a work thing, matty.”

a beat passes before he responds. “neither do i.”

thank fuck.

your eyes close in contentment. “matty?”

“yeah, darling?”

you reopen them, looking up at him - for the probably millionth time in two days, you don’t bother trying to hide the feeling in your gaze. “kiss me.”

that gorgeous face above yours cracks into a smile. “alright.”

and he does.

it’s exactly how you imagined he would be - a little bit sloppy, tentative with tongue, but so eager and giggly and just so caring that it doesn’t matter. on instinct, your hand roots itself in matty’s curls, and the little whine he lets out is probably enough to fuel your bedtime fantasies for a fortnight by itself. you smile into him, tracing your tongue around his lips before sucking on the bottom one and releasing it slowly. your head is spinning, from matty more than lack of oxygen, and you honestly don’t think you’ve ever been happier post-kiss in your life.

there’s a happy silence for a minute, save the two of you gasping for breath, broken by matty kissing you quickly again and grinning. “hi. and, also, wow.”

“indeed,” you beam up at him, gently twisting those pretty curls around your fingers. “you might’ve figured it out by now, but… i like you, in a more-than-platonic sense.”

“the kiss gave it away, yeah,” he giggles breathily. “i take it there’s no policy at work about making out with your colleagues? or, y’know, taking them out on actual, unrelated-to-work dates?”

“no such thing.”

matty smiles, pulling you in for another kiss. “well, thank christ for that.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #office nerd au #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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n3ptun3e · 4 months

Text

—SUNSHINE BOY!

shisui uchiha x reader + headcanons

how shisui would eventually fall in love with you!

notes: listen, i’m no writer and my english is kind of shit, but desperate times call for desperate measures and i’m starving for cute shisui content with no inc3st in it, so this was born!! please enjoy it!

honestly? i just did this because it’s too fun to decorate the posts

You two became friends in the short period he was in the academy speed running through classes. He was pretty popular just like any other clan kid with the prodigy title, and since the whole “ostracize the uchiha clan” didn’t happen yet, at least not as obvious as it was in the series, the both of you would train or just spend lunch together, probably invites you to his house. Training in a secluded part of the forest and having deep talks would be one of his favorite activities to do with you. He loves loves to delve into the depths of other people’s minds and try to figure them out, what makes you act this way, your thought process, how does your mind works? he wants to know this because he wants to know the real you, to understand the puzzle that you are, it’s his way to show that he cares, otherwise he wouldn’t keep you as close as you are. He probably doesn’t even realize his thoughts are way more…technical? for scientific purposes only☝🏻 than your average person, because he’s a prodigy and all that, so he can come off as a little bit blunt (though as he grows up he’s much more suave and smooth when sharing his thoughts. Clan meetings and political bullshit does that to someone) but he has the bestest intentions in mind being the altruist that he is. He’s a curious and smart boy!!!

Either way, he likes to spend time with you, you saw the real him, not shisui the prodigy, shunshin no shisui, or the “weird and show off guy”, but him. If he had any other friends besides you, they would be gone once the kyuubi attack happens. Konoha doesn’t have the best education, so the kids would just follow what their parents told them and some adults already didn’t like him, so there really wasn’t anyone else around. It’s around this time that he met Itachi, seeing a glimpse of him and his long dead friend on the child, he decides to take him under his wing.

I’m not sure if it’s canon, but it’s stated in some places that he unlocked his mangekyõ because of his teammate, his friend that was more powerful than him, shisui was envious, jealous even. one day on a mission his friend got hurt and needed assistance, but shisui as team captain decided to follow through with the mission and his friend ended up dying. and THAT’S the crucial moment where he’s going to need someone the most. He’s a uchiha, they have big hearts and just feel more, much more than your average person, the blame crushes him, he’s already a gentle soul who is forced to kill others for his own village, and to make matters worse they are in war times, you saw how obito and naruto turned out very different because of it right? that, plus the start of the apparent hate and suspicion of the village towards his clan, makes way for rumors, “he’s an Uchiha, what else would we expect from him…? you should be careful, they are not to be trusted”. I imagine his clan would push and pressure him to become more powerful, to “Bring pride into the clan” moving him up in the ranks, making him enter anbu as a child even if he’s already a jõnin.

He just breaks, childish glint in his eyes gone, so he comes to you, “i didn’t know where else to go…” he breaks down in your arms, silent tears falling from his eyes as he clings onto you, his grip tight as if you would disappear at any moment, his only friend that didn’t left him. All the tension and adrenaline from battle would eventually leave his body as he relaxes, letting out all his frustrations away, feeling so fucking tired, body getting out of survival mode, his thoughts and feelings finally getting to him, you hug him tight and strokes his unruly dark curls, soothing hand on his back and whispering calming and reassuring words in his ear, his tears in your shirt slowly turn red, and when you pull away to dry his tears you gasp as you see the intricate pattern on his bleeding red eyes.

THAT’S when you two become even more close. Shisui was always caring and protective of you, but now as you two have grown up he gets even worse, always having a hand on you, arm around your shoulder as he teases you, giving you a little wink before flicking off existence. god, when he finally perfects the body flicker he becomes a menace, appearing out of nowhere inches away from your face, blowing out a puff of air into the back of your neck as you almost rips him in half thinking it was a enemy ninja, cheeks burning red. Though it’s undeniable how your heart beats quicker and smile warms up as he leaves, he’s always there to cheer you up and support you, he’s loyal okay? you have been there for him and now he’s going to follow you for the rest of your life, you feel like safety to him, a light in the dark, he trusts you with his life. he would never EVER left you behind (only if you asked him to, but duh why would you dummy), especially on missions, he will bring you back alive even if he has to sacrifice himself for it.

i know it’s obvious but PHYSICAL TOUCH!!!! it’s his way of communicating affection alright? hugging, ruffling your hair after training, THE UCHIHA POKE, you name it, he especially likes to put a arm around your shoulders and lean close to you, teasing you about whatsoever, whispering in your ear about the random guy on your right hitting on the lady next to him, chuckling and laughing to yourselves, you don’t even notice when he has a hand around you anymore because it just feels natural at this point, it gives him a excuse to be so close to you. Also looves to spend time with you, it’s kind of hard since the both are you are busy with missions but he would always use shunshin to see you, especially during breaks on the uchiha military police forces, asking you to have lunch with him, his treat! he’s a gentleman okay? Sometimes he would appear and gently put a kanzashi 簪 (hair ornaments used in traditional Japanese hairstyles) in your hair, saying it reminded him of the color of your eyes, he would always do that, giving you thoughtful gifts he would find along his missions, smiling at you as he says “i knew it would suit you” it means you look pretty in it.

His touch starts to linger more than necessary, appearing out of nowhere always with a warm hand on you. God he always runs so hot? maybe it’s because he’s a uchiha but his body temperature is high. Shuffling closer to him when you both go on a mission in the middle of winter, a teasing smile on his face as he asks “what was that?” a eyebrow raised in amusement, though he quickly chuckles and opens his arms, hugging you close, making jokes so you don’t feel awkward. He’s just so gentle and soft with you, stroking your hair as you both fall asleep. Always blushing if you reciprocate his barely hidden affections. He’s shy on these matters okay? i imagine him being just like minato but with the determination and sense of humor of naruto. so he can be all serious and in mission mode but if you pass him by and gives him a smile he’s all smiley and red cheeks, sheepishly expression on his face with a hand scratching the back of his head, snsksuzysowb cute. Sometimes he would look at Itachi and Sasuke interacting, imagining how it would be like if one day he ends up building a family with you, it’s one of his favorite daydreams jakajansja definitely a family guy. Yearning for the feeling of coming back home after a long mission and sink into your arms, sighing as he feels how soft, warm and alive you feel, he would do anything to keep you that way, even if he’s not the one you love, being able to be by your side is enough, at least that’s what he tells himself.

It would take a while for a confession tbh, he doesn’t want to lose you or ruin the friendship you both have, would probably talk about it with Itachi, sighing and telling him for the hundredth time if he should tell you or not. itachi’s already tired from this bullshit, staring at his cousin with a deadpan expression “i do believe it would be for the best if you finally told her how you feel” he would repeat, for the millionth time.

I doubt he would like or even look at somebody else in the same way he looks at you, he’s a uchiha and they feel deep, so when he falls, he falls hard, he’s a racional, loyal and busy guy, he wouldn’t even have time for romance outside of his barely there free time that he spends with you >:) so i really don’t think he’s the type to get with someone just because of their appearance or frivolous things like that, he needs the connection, heart, love and trust, so it takes time.

HE’S A JELLY GUY, not overly so, and would never seriously harm someone because of it, BUT HE IS he may not look like it, but if he sees a guy getting too close to comfort with you he’ll pop out of nowhere between you and the man, hugging you from the back and talking with the both of you, hands stroking your sides gently, or just pulling his arm around your shoulders, acting all friendly. You probably don’t even notice he’s actually jealous because he’s too smooth about it (and because you are trying to hide your blush from him).

By the way, you and itachi are friends! he’s a cute kiddo that follows shisui around, and he also has a little shadow following him (lil sasuke) it’s the cutest thing to see Shisui waving at you with a big grin on his face, eyes crinkling with happiness, a little shadow behind him, and a even more tiny figure following behind just like little ducks following their mother lolol.

Eventually shisui would have the guts to finally tell you how he feels, but only after a long while, probably when the whole uchiha fiasco ends (AND IT ENDS WITH EVERYBODY ALIVE) he would be so relieved and happy that his family and the village now are all safe and in peace that he would decide to finally take a step forward and be honest with you, he’d plan everything too, choosing your favorite place and all kinds of things that make you smile awww it would be perfect. You would blush, having at least a suspicion with the way he acts around you, not being able to contain your smile, putting your hands on his cheeks, gently caressing them, his ridiculously long eyelashes brushing against your thumbs as his eyes flutter at your touch, his own cheeks red. When you say “i love you” back, he would be so happy and excited he wouldn’t stop grinning, cheeks almost hurting from how happy he felt, taking you by the waist and spinning you around, the both of you laughing as he does so, just like when you were children, it feels like being home. Time seems to stop as you two gaze at each other, him staring at you with the softest eyes, carefully putting you down on the ground, running his fingers through your hair and saying one more time, “i love you” before his hand travels to your jaw, caressing and tracing the skin there, slowly inching his face closer until you feel his warm breath on your face, brushing his lips lightly against yours, leaving you breathless, fluttering your eyes close, he presses his lips harder against yours as you don’t pull away, sighing and pulling you impossibly close, one hand on your waist softly stroking your skin, the other on the back of your neck, playing with your hair as he finally gets to taste the lips of the girl he longed for all those years.

notes: oh wow that took much longer than i thought it would? what the hell i started to write this at night and now it’s MORNING ughhh i hope you guys like it, we need to keep the shisui simps people alive! happy new years for all of you!

reviews, likes and reblogs are much appreciated! thank you very much!

#shisui uchiha x reader #shisui x reader #shisui x you #shisui uchiha #uchiha shisui #headcanons #shisui headcanons #naruto imagines #naruto #uchiha clan

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cicimunson · 10 months

Text

Period Comfort with Eddie

Just a short drabble of Eddie comforting the reader while they're on their period.

~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up with a sharp pain in your lower stomach, groaning softly as you curl into a ball. Your period was here, it was early, and you were already miserable.

Eddie stirs in his sleep, automatically rolling over and tossing an arm around you.

"Bad dream, babe?" He murmurs, kissing your cheek. "Don't worry, I'm right here."

You slip out of bed. "I'm fine. I just need to use the bathroom." You hurry down the hall before he can reply.

Please let it be a light one, please let it be a light one, please let it be-

You sigh as you tug down your sleep shorts and underwear and see the mess. You had already leaked through them.

Fuck, of course. My first time sleeping over with my boyfriend and this happens.

You realize that if you've bled through your shorts, there's probably blood on the bed. You briefly contemplate just leaving, walking out the front door without saying a word. It isn't like Eddie is going to want to talk to you after this, he'll probably be disgusted.

You dismiss the idea, your shoes and keys are in his bedroom anyways.

You leave the bathroom, dragging your feet as you walk back to him. Eddie is sitting up in the bed, looking concerned.

"Are you okay baby?"

You nod slowly, dreading the conversation you're about to have.

"Um, yeah, I'm fine. I just…I got my period is all."

He looks a little surprised but nods. "Oh, okay. Do you need to go home or something?"

Of course he wants me to go home. You blink back tears.

"I can, but, um, I wanted to offer to wash your sheets first. I'm really sorry."

He frowns. "Wash my sheets? Why?"

You look down at the floor. "I, uh, I got blood on them."

Eddie pulls the cover back, grimacing when he sees the blood stain.

"I can clean it up, I promise, and then I'll go, I'm so sorry." You start to ramble. "It wasn't supposed to happen until next week, but sometimes it's early and I should have-"

"Hey, stop, it's fine." He gets out of bed and pulls you into his arms. "Are you okay? Are you in pain?"

"I…just some cramps, I'm fine." You look up at him, surprised at the worry etched on his face. You expected him to look disgusted.

"Are you sure? That's a lot of blood, it looks like it would hurt." He gestures to the stain.

You realize his little grimace when he saw it wasn't because he was grossed out, it was because he was worried about you. He’s so concerned, he’s so sweet.

"Listen, I can handle the sheets. Why don't you go take a shower? I'm sure you wanna get cleaned up." He kisses your forehead.

"Are you sure? I know it's kinda gross. If you don't want-"

"Babe, it's just blood, I got it. I just wanna make sure you're okay is all." He strokes your cheek, still looking worried.

He's really not disgusted or mad. He's worried about me. You let out a sigh of relief.

"I'm fine, I promise. I'll go shower." You peck his lips gently. "Use cold water on those sheets."

He nods, turning to gather them up while you grab your overnight bag and head back to the bathroom. You get out fresh clothes and search your toiletries, letting out a triumphant "A-ha!" when you find a pad wedged between your deodorant and toothbrush holder.

You ball up your dirty clothes and stuff them in the bag before showering quickly, making sure there's no trace of blood left in the tub before getting dressed.

You follow the sounds coming from the kitchen, smiling when you see Eddie standing over the stove, singing along with the radio.

"Oldies country? I'm shocked." You tease and he whirls around to face you, a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks.

"Hey, it's all Wayne listens to so of course I know a couple songs." He protests. “Doesn’t make me a fan.”

"Oh I'm not judging, you sound great babe." You push his hair back to kiss his shoulder.

"We are having eggs with cheese, the house speciality." He says in a dramatic French accent. "You like, oui?"

"Oui." You giggle. "Can I do anything to help?"

"You can sit and look pretty, you're already halfway there." He kisses your nose. "My pretty baby."

"Oh, stop." Your cheeks turn pink as you sit down.

He serves you a plate of eggs and a glass of juice before sitting down beside you, grabbing your chair to tug you closer to him. Eddie always had to be close to you, resting a hand on your leg, brushing his thigh against yours, kissing your temple. You normally didn't like to be touched constantly, but with Eddie you craved it. Something in his touch made you feel happy and safe.

He tries to spoon feed you and you laugh, pushing his hand away. "Stop, you goof."

"It's part of the house speciality, the chef feeds you." He tugs one of your thighs over his, stroking your leg as he feeds you little bites.

"You're spoiling me." You murmur, taking a sip of your juice. “I’m fine, Eddie, really.”

He hesitates. "Does it…are you hurting?"

You nod. "Just a little, the cramps hurt. And my chest is a little sore."

He grins mischievously. "Seeing as I'm such a loving and devoted boyfriend, I'm more than happy to rub whatever hurts."

"Eddie!" You blush and hide your face in his neck.

"No, no, I insist. It's my job and I take my job very seriously." He quips as he puts the dirty dishes in the sink before leading you to the couch.

"Very funny. Although I wouldn't say no to a tummy rub right now."

He sprawls out on the couch and pulls you down beside him, your back against his chest. "Let me take care of you baby." He coos, rubbing your lower stomach gently.

"I thought…I thought maybe it would gross you out and you'd want me to go home." You admit. "I'm really sorry about the sheets."

He shakes his head. "Hey, none of that. Truthfully, I think it's kinda metal."

You look up at him over your shoulder. "You think periods are metal?"

"I mean, yeah, kinda! You're in pain and bleeding but you're still up walking around and doing stuff? It's a bit badass, babe."

You smile softly. "You're one-of-a-kind, you know that right?"

He looks pleased. "Right back at ya, gorgeous."

You snuggle in his arms, your eyelids starting to droop after a bit.

"Getting sleepy, pretty baby?"

You nod, kissing his cheek. "Can we nap?"

"Whatever my baby wants." He returns the kiss, holding you tightly.

You nod off in his arms as he keeps rubbing your stomach.

Eddie isn't even tired. He lies contently beside you, hugging you close as he strokes your tummy and back. When he finally does drift off to sleep, he whispers a soft "I love you." in your ear, feeling a weight lift off his chest as he says it for the first time, even though you're sleeping soundly and didn't hear him.

It doesn't matter though, because you fully intend to tell him you love him when you wake up. How could you not?

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson comfort

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azure-cherie · 1 year

Text

PAC : General messages for you

Hello loves , i hope you are doing well 🥰❤️ , choose with your intuition, take what resonates and leave the rest since this is a general pac , you can choose multiple and choose another if one doesn't resonate with you . Hope it helps 😉

⭑ࣶࣸ ֺ✦⸼࣪⸳ 𓂃 ⴰ ࣭͘ 🔮⭑ุ 𝁼 ✷⭑ࣶࣸ ֺ✦⸼࣪⸳ 𓂃 ⴰ ࣭͘ 🔮⭑ุ 𝁼 ✷⭑ࣶࣸ ֺ✦⸼࣪⸳ 𓂃 ⴰ ࣭͘ ⭑ุ 𝁼 ✷⭑ࣶࣸ ֺ✦⸼࣪⸳ 🔮𓂃 ⴰ ࣭͘ ⭑ุ 𝁼 ✷⭑ࣶࣸ ֺ✦⸼࣪⸳ 🔮𓂃 ⴰ ࣭͘ ⭑ุ 𝁼 ✷⭑ࣶࣸ ֺ✦⸼࣪⸳ 🔮𓂃 ⴰ ࣭͘ ⭑ุ 𝁼 ✷⭑ࣶࣸ ֺ✦⸼࣪⸳ 𓂃 ⴰ ࣭͘ 🔮⭑ุ 𝁼 ✷⭑ࣶࣸ ֺ✦⸼࣪⸳

Pile 1.

You are going to face some challenges soon however you should know that you're fully capable to face each one of them i feel the challenges are either financial or educational , you need faith the most this time and it will be provided by someone close to you , there is a chance of unexpected help coming to you , be mindful and beware you are manifesting great things , it's just the tower moment before the star arrives , keep pushing through you're almost their . Don't let your ego drive through this situation, listen to someone whom you can trust or listen to your own inner intuition. Your intellect is tested here , practice as much as you can , practice will give you everything, i think this pile also has people who have competitive exams soon , i keep hearing pomodoro technique, recapitulation etc , i also feel really sleep be mindful of your body sleep more , you can remember more that way , don't put so much pressure onto yourself. I feel some people here have been too protective with their resources it's like they never want to share what they have , spirit is telling you to be generous, the more you give the more you get . Like being a miser right now may lead to some financial instability later as a karma i feel, so like to use it correctly. For the other bunch of people i feel there's someone who is coming to aid your financial problems and give you support in that area . I get the message that some people here must change the layout of their door decoration like the elements i suppose , you can install some money attraction signs i feel , change your curtains and also your purse . Gift chocolates to your loved ones and consume walnuts . A deer symbolism is coming through as well . All the best loves.

Pile 2 :

As i start the pile i get the song lyric in my head " I am laughing on the outside crying on the inside coz I'm so in love with you " , i feel recently you have gone through a heartbreak or a breakdown of some kind like something has really shattered for you , however know that this ends here , you have a period of love and stability beyond but it starts with self love first , you will have to work on yourself and heal yourself then only the spirits will send someone to be in your vibration and stay with you or else you are going to attract energy vampires . You will soon earn a reward probably a promotion or a medal or trophy of some kind , it's all a result of your hardwork you deserve it love , you also should work on your mindset a bit , you have great things to receive don't block it by overthinking everything. You could get a new best friend they will be your ride or die and help you in every situation they are wiser and will fight anyone who tries to harm you . They could also be a familiar spirit or someone in the astral realm . Beware of infidel people , okay one second i feel though this friend of yours is coming in your life , in the astral realm it could also invite people who are into mischief and pretend to be your friend, you have to be careful of them , like be mindful who you are inviting, use your discernment, you need it now . Try doing some protection for yourself. There's so much celebration around like promotions, spiritual upgrades, even a birth of a child in your family ( i feel they could be the rebirth of some ancestor of yours ) . Btw your lashes are looking great and your skin needs some nourishment. You will be blessed with greater intuition and many great opportunities are coming your way for you to grab them hehe so happy for you .

Pile 3:

New opportunities are coming for you soon , some of you may buy a new house or restaurant , move to a new place or a new college i feel . For some of you a guru is coming to help you , maybe in your spiritual path you have met some weird people and that's why you have lost your faith in gurus however the next person is divinely sent and is here to help you , it could be an archangel as well . If you are waiting for initiation into a spiritual field you will be getting it soon , there could be shamanic experience for you in about 8 months to a year. Look at you getting the rewards for your hardwork look at your smiling face you deserve it all , i think your past good actions will be rewarded soon , your rewards were delayed or are being delayed because of your limiting beliefs , let them go and see it coming through. There's someone who is going to reconcile with you after a long time , i think you should stay away from them , they are just adding upto your busy life , you should be focused on your goals for now , i mean you can still let them in but are you ready to take the burden they bring. Pay attention to your dreams maintain a journal , they are so important to you right now , people have been communicating to you but because you have been kind of distracted you haven't been receiving the messages, take some time to immerse yourself into transcendental meditation i feel it will help . You are going to completely transform yourself it's going to be so good for you love . You're coming out of the period of stagnation and giving yourselves the world and wait wait you could get a partner as well , loves around the corner babes !!!!!! You could get married if you're also looking for it :) . Love love love for you.

Pile 4 :

Things have been chaotic for you lately and yes i feel someone has been trying to do magic on you for your downfall could be a young women who is really jealous of your success or your beauty, in the past you may have someone whom you both used to love and now they chose you over them so they are doing this to be resentful against you this also could be someone who is very jealous of your wealth. Some people around you feel you have let the success around you get to your head , you might have lost some friends you were genuine, you should ground yourself now . Good things are coming for you as well like new projects and investments . Something about jewellery youll be gifted soon, you can start a jewellery making business it will be successful i feel so . Even though the other person has been trying so hard to see you fall , the universe is saying you must learn to protect yourself, don't be unbothered do something about it soon it will help really , your hope is the way through, you will get through this , there are some losses and they are unavoidable, it's a rock bottom thing you have to reach in some sphere of your life , for example: your career field could flourish but the other fields are going to be in a low state , it could differ from person to person. You will go through minor conflicts, you really need protection, whoever is doing this against you wtf they're nasty as hell , they have a lot of power but idk why are they using it against you coz I feel this is affecting you in ways you don't even understand, you feel as if it's your karma but it's not it's actually ulterior forces . Surrender to the spirit and ask your guides or the gods you pray to for help , you could do some protection spells as well so it ASAP . The good thing here is after this ends , you will go through a major change in your life for the better , you will become a better person and will establish yourself more . I get you might buy a car soon , some of you could also get famous for your strength and for having a beautiful body like a modelling contract i guess . Sending hugs .

Thank you for reading 🧡 have a great day/night ahead ✨✨✨

#pick a card tarot #pick a photo #pick a card reading #pick a picture #pick a pile #pick a card #pac reading #pac readings #tarot card reading #tarot reading

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fairsexynasty · 1 year

Text

∞ ₒ 🏆˚ ° 🏈 WHO’S FREER THAN ME?

+*:🐅:* joe burrow x fem!reader

summary: talk, talk, talk. it’s like men were conditioned to do only that. will they ever listen to you? questions plague your mind during a night out with joe. except, you’re not physically with him, quite unfortunately so.

warnings: SMUT. oral (fem receiving), squirting, fingering (fem receiving), daddy kink, dom/sub, subspace, mentions of spanking, dacryphilia mention, jealous!joe, asshat men

a/n: and she’s finally here! and she’s looking gorg <3

You figured that it was natural to get yourself caught up in tricky situations. The night before, you were adamant on the fact that parties were insipid and required an amount of fucks you personally couldn’t give. But damn it, Joe. It wasn’t on purpose, but his eyes practically begged you to accompany him to the stupid thing, and the last thing you wanted was Joe standing against a wall, drink in hand, disappointed you hadn’t tagged along. So after a period of begging (and kissing,) you reluctantly agreed to go to the party.

And it was terrible.

Never once in your life did you have to interact with such vapid, arrogant adults who had pools of beer and other mystery alcohols spilling down their shirts. It smelled like a gym and a bar at the same exact time, and the smell was so unrelenting, you excused yourself and headed upstairs.

Passing by multiple guys who had always been assholes to you out of attraction, made it to a secluded hallway, dim with dying overhead floral lights. At some point, Joe was pulled away by guys who animatedly conversed with him in what was probably their first-ever conversation with your boyfriend.

Footsteps padded along the stairs and you prayed it would be your boyfriend, for he at least had some decency to not stomp on some rando’s carpet. Unfortunately, you were met with— well, you didn’t know his name.

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you here!” He greeted you. The look you gave made him say his name, but frustratingly enough, you hadn’t heard him. You stared up at him through the rim of your cup, a white line appearing in your vision and cutting off his torso.

“I, uh, I don’t find myself at parties a lot. Out of my own volition.” Perhaps, if you were sardonic enough, he would leave you the fuck alone and you’d be able to hide out in the bathroom for the rest of the night. Nothing like sitting atop a polished granite slab, feeling the surface vibrate in pulses beneath you.

‘What’s-his-face’ gives a stupid chortle. He’s finding you amusing, which is literally the opposite of what you want from him. “Oh, so you’re a cool girl, aren’t you?”

No. No, no, no, not this gimmick.

Rule one of interacting with men you don’t like, is never to make them think you’re a cool girl, which is another word for “My own personal manic pixie dream girl.” Once they think that, you’re free game, no matter how hard you try to rope yourself back in. And now, ‘What’s-his-face’ has pulled the buoy cord out of the water, leaving you stranded with him for god knows how long.

He asks you about your favorite SNL sketches, how many Blur songs you can name, and whether or not you caught the Sunday football game. Your stomach shifts inside your body, his douchebag aura making you feel queasy, and now you’re yearning for your boyfriend who is most likely surrounded by other douchebags like the one in front of you. You should have handcuffed yourself to Joe. Should have tackled him down the stairs and knocked him out before he stepped foot outside your house. Maybe, you should have driven all the way to get ice cream instead and fuck him after.

But you didn’t, and now you have to pay the price.

“It’s really nice that you’re listening, typically girls start talking about other stuff when I’m talking, it’s really kind of you.” Ugh. No fucking way. Then, he placed a fucking hand on your arm. “Wanna get out of here?”

Before you can slap him in the face, Joe turns him around by his shoulder. “No, but I think you should, right buddy? I mean, look at her. She’s obviously not interested, and would rather shoot herself than talk to you.” You let out a laugh because there’s no one who understands you more than Joe does. “Don’t you?”

It strikes you as strange, it even incenses you. What the hell do you mean by that, Joe? You grab his hand and start pulling him with you, not bothering to bid goodbye to the other guy.

“I want to leave,” you start as the two of you trudge down the stairs. “Got it?”

Joe rolls his eyes but acquiesces to your request. He grabs his keys from his pocket and the two of you are out the door.

The car ride back to your apartment is silent. Dead silent. Once you arrive home, you make a dash for the door, choosing not to wait for Joe.

“Babe,” he calls out. He catches up and closes the door behind him. His hand runs over his face. “The hell was that?”

“You know I don’t like parties, I told you I didn’t want to go.”

“Yeah, initially, but then you eventually agreed, right?”

You groan in frustration. “I lied, Joe.”

“So why are you mad at me because you lied? If you wanted to leave, you could have told me, but you let that douche chat you up instead.” He walks toward you and holds your chin with his pointer and thumb.

“You know I didn’t like him,” you say in earnest and avoiding eye contact.

“Really? Because I can’t read your mind, baby. Tell me what you need.” The air grows thick with tension. Suddenly you feel hot, overcome with a warmth fueled by Joe radiating jealousy. You also feel a bit of pompousness in the mix, knowing Joe is feeding off of the fact you’re caught in a now precarious situation. His eyes seem as if they’re smirking at your own, his lids curving at the ends, irises as blue as sapphire. He’s teasing you, making you wait for him to quit the unrelenting gaze that was so stimulating.

You decide to take his thumb into your mouth, wrapping your pouted lips around the digit. Your throat began to meet with his thumb almost immediately and you moaned, wondering how his fingers would feel in you.

Head moving back and letting Joe’s thumb fall from your mouth, a string of saliva trailed to your lips, you immediately go dumb for him. “Need you to fuck me, daddy.” Glossy eyes bat three times at him. “Please?”

It’s almost shameful to you that you put yourself in this position every single time. It’s almost shameful how you go dumb as soon as your arousal gets sexual, as if all you’ve built yourself up to be washes away in the waves of fuck me now. But it does fill you with pride in the end, because you hold the key to Joe’s satisfaction, and you’re the only person who does him as well as you do.

“That’s my girl,” a low coo of pleasantry. He scoops you up in his arms and you let out a squeal of surprise. Joe walks to your bedroom, slipping your shoes off and dropping them on the floor along the way. He gently lays you on top of the sheets, holding your head as he leans in to kiss you.

Moaning into the kiss, your hands take the rein in his hair, fingers already carding through the blond. Joe tugs at your bottom lip, making you drop your jaw just a bit so he can explore inside your mouth.

You find it astonishing. To be concise, Joe’s pretty selfish— but it’s how he takes things for himself that renders you wanton. The way he bites on your skin and soothes it after. How his hands direct your body in any way of his choosing. When he holds your head up as you cum to make sure he can see the stars in your eyes.

Your legs spread immediately as Joe enters the space between them. He takes his time trailing hot kisses down your neck, then down your torso after removing your top and bra. His fingers dance upon your jean-clad thighs, tap-tap-tapping upwards to your button and zipper, then work in a quick fashion to rid you of your bottoms. You’re left in just your panties and they’re soaked with your wetness, turning a shade darker than the original where it covers your core.

Joe’s eyes glimmer with an unsatiable want to ruin you. His fingers trail over your core, and you let out a breathy whimper. God, you’re pathetic. “You got really worked up didn’t you, pretty girl? How long were you waiting for me to come to save you?”

You let out a playful scoff and roll your eyes. “I don’t need to be saved, Joey. I just know you missed me so much.” Pulling him closer by his belt loops, you bite his bottom lip and pull ever-so-slightly. “Don’t tease me, daddy. Makes me upset.”

The soft sound of your purrs full of pure raunch flips a switch in Joe. Instead of wanting to fuck you dumb, slap your ass until the skin was hot to the touch, kiss the tears that never stopped running down your cheeks, the man decided he wanted you to scream for more. More, more, more. God, he could just hear it in his mind. Blessed cries of pleasure, letting his baby take whatever she wanted from him like the princess she was, that’s all he needed now.

He pounced at your neck in an attempt to distract you from what he was about to do— rip your panties apart in one swift motion, with little to no effort at all. He lowly chuckles against your pulse point, sending a shiver down your spine. As he kisses and marks his territory, his hands travel to your core and start truly exploring the wetness that coats you. His two fingers slip inside as easily as ever, and he’s grateful to realize it’s because you’ve decided he’s all you ever wanted.

“That’s my girl. So ready for daddy, aren’t you?” You nod softly and pull him into a deep kiss.

The tightness is a comfort and Joe curves his fingers to pull a moan out of you that bounces off the walls of your room. With every flick of the wrist, he feels your cunt pulse around his fingers, sucking him back in deeper each time.

His mouth leaves your neck and goes straight for your pussy, instantly latching onto your clit and sucking, hard. You let out a scream, as your mind tries to wrap around how it’s possible he makes you feel even better each time. “Fuck, s’good daddy, so good…”

Joe’s tongue parts your folds and joins his fingers in motion. The heat travels all along your body as you drip onto him. He eats you out like a man starved, licking and thrusting his tongue all over, catching every last drop of what you give to him.

The coil in your abdomen tightens and your thighs clench and shake around Joe’s head. Your hands snake down his hair and pull hard, taking rein in the blond. Your back arches over and over as you grind into his mouth, chasing your release.

After you start practically fucking yourself onto his fingers, Joe comes up and takes one good look at you. Your eyes have rolled into the back of your head, your skin sheen with sweat, and your body just looks outright divine.

“Gonna cum for daddy, honey?��

“‘M so close, gonna cum, daddy-“ You cut yourself off with a moan. He knows you’re so incredibly close that you’ve lost the ability to hold onto necessary cognition, so he gives you a couple of slaps to your clit, and soon enough you’re gushing all over his fingers. “Oh, fuck!”

“There you go, good fucking girl,” he groans, failing to cease rubbing at your clit. He wants all of the mess that you so happily give to him. Once you’ve finished cumming and the aftershock contractions start, he finally controls himself. He dips his head back down to clean you up with his tongue, and you choke out tiny squeals.

Then, he’s done being selfish for the time being. He meets you face to face again. Your eyes lull back and forth from clear vision to a blur of Joe above you. “Come back to me, baby,” he whispers as you slowly regain consciousness. He caresses your cheek, pressing small kisses from your forehead into your hairline.

He smiles when he feels your arms wrap around him, your hold as present as your mind. “Thank you, Joey,” you whisper back. Your hands feel fabric clinging to his back, and you suddenly realize he never even got undressed. “What’s with the clothes?”

Joe smiles down at you. “A very wise woman told me that men need to listen to women in conversation. This is my special way of conversing with you, I guess.”

“Did you make a mess in your pants, Joe?”

“Not answering that.”

#joe burrow x reader #joe burrow smut #fairsexynasty

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kneelingshadowsalome · 4 months

Note

OK OK OK, but can we revisit the daughter "sitcom" scenarios?! I loved them sm.

Imagine Engel is out somewhere, like the store or whatever. Their daughter, who is about 12-13 at the time, just got her first period...😦

She just kinda awkwardly walks into the room and is trying to figure out how to tell him...

Konig is totally panicking, probably frantically calling Engels phone to get home ASAP. Poor boy probably didn't even know that you can get your period at that age and thinks some really bad is happening 😭.

But once everything has settled down, he starts to treat her the same way he treats Engel on her period, maybe even letting her stay home from school.

König is 1000 miles away from his comfort zone

I imagine the conversation goes something like this: (D=daughter, K=König, R/E=reader/Engel)

D: “I think my period just started…”

K: “Ja? Just remember to do your homework.”

D: “No, I mean… I think I just got my first period? I’m bleeding–”

K: “Bleeding? Where?? ”

D: “…??? There...?”

*uncomfortable staring and silence”

D: “I just… Do you know where mom keeps her pads?”

K: “...Pads?”

D: “Dad!! You’re just repeating my words!”

She leaves the room to look for the pads herself while König calls her mother: now imagine a colonel, a commanding officer of thousands of soldiers, responsible for important pre-decisions throughout the whole organization, calling his wife and asking what to do in this kind of a situation 🧍‍♂️ König is rubbing the back of his neck while walking anxious circles in the living room, almost bumps into a sofa while Engel calmly explains what's going on and that this is all completely normal.

When she comes back, König has just closed the phone, sighs, then takes a rather stiff stance to indicate he is about to give an important speech.

“Now then, my pretty young fawn. You are not my little girl anymore… Today, you’ve become a woman–”

“Dad, wtf?!? Ughh….”

She storms out of the room again, about to die from cringe: why does his father have to be such an embarrassment and an awkward mess? Why the hell did her mother even want this odd big loser as her man???

She’s sick of his stupid speeches and ridiculous rules and poor attempts at jokes, she's more than sick of listening to her parents’ disgusting cooing all the time. Only the noise canceling headphones can block out his dad’s profuse lovesick confessions before they start to bonk each other, thinking she can’t hear it all upstairs. Meanwhile she's not allowed to have a life of her own because the "world is a dangerous place"...

She can't wait to get out of this household, especially when even more cringeworthy conversations follow once her mother comes home. The only reason she's eavesdropping is because they're finally speaking of her instead of "how beautiful his sweet Engel looks" or "how silly and clumsy her big bear is":

K: “Does this mean she starts to have boyfriends?”

E/R: “She probably has had a few already.”

K: “What?!”

E/R: “Well not really. They’re just kids, fooling around. I wouldn't worry about it yet.”

K: “Should I talk to her about… you know, birds and bees? Just in case?”

E/R: “You? Absolutely not.”

K: “But–”

E/R: “I’ll talk to her at some point. They probably have sex education at school.”

K: “She can’t go to school. She said she was in pain.”

E/R: *sighs*

K: “What...? I already called them and said she's ill.”

E/R: “She's not ill, silly. It's just a period, it comes every month. You of all people should know...”

K: “Ja, I know... The torture days :)”

E/R: “Torture days for who?”

K: “I'm in so much pain every month, you have no idea...”

(Daughter upstairs makes a furious dive for her headphones :|)

#I’m fairly positive their future menace of a daughter had her first “boyfriend” when she was six #she chased the poor boy with a stick and thought it was true love #wonder where she got that from…#also König protecting his girls furiously when either of them is on their period 🥺#hauling painkillers and chocolate and pads for them like it’s his job #practically preventing them from leaving the house #fighting anyone who tries to politely tell him that women can work and go to school even on their period #saga of könig's daughter #answered

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

Note

AITA for not picking my brothers side against our mother?

Some background information:

My brother (let’s call him Collin) is trans (20m) We come from a relatively Catholic (we aren’t religious but the influence is deffo there) conservative country and have been living in the USA for most of our lives. My mother definitely can’t be considered LGBTQ allies, although they are much more understanding than some of the people here, especially in the south— which is impressive considering where we come from. She is TERRIBLE with using the correct pronouns for Collin, so much so that he doesn’t contact her much anymore. I’ve never tried to get him to do otherwise— it’s his choice, and I still respect him. I can understand it. Shortly before he moved away, he’d rant to me about her. I was pretty good with listening and giving advice/support for the first few years, but towards the end of high school (when the school work stress was piling up, along with other external family issues), it started to weigh on me. I wanted (and still want) to be someone Collin can confide in, but I still love my mother. She has made improvements with her close-mindedness, even if they aren’t huge steps. Whenever I try to give reasons for her behavior or just try to get them to get along, he accused me of siding with her. A lot of his perceptions of her seem warped these days, too. Like a while ago he was talking with me via text about one of his friends/coworkers (who is gay). He told me not to mention to our mother that this friend is gay— this friend, by the way, is fully out and married. A few months later I slipped and mentioned it to my mother (she had suggested that this friend probably likes this woman we know and I said “no mom he’s gay!”). And she didn’t really react? She just bluescreened for a moment (the trademark “confused boomer pause”) and went on with the conversation. I’ve had a lot of talks with her about LGBTQ issues, and I’ve actually managed to get her to consider the fact that homophobia may stem from religion (she is a very science>religion kind of person). She wholeheartedly believes that LGBTQ issues should not be politicized. (Not an ally, not an enemy.)

anyway, all this to say that Collin has a very 2D impression of her. Last year I went to pick him up at the airport, and mom called while we were in the car to remind us to stop by [store] and pick something up. When the call ended, Collin snorted and said something like “the bitch couldn’t have just sent a text?”

I told him, a bit snappishly, to shut up. He looked surprised and I felt bad, but I told him that I didn’t want any in part in the conflict and that he should stop bringing me into it.

I was also kind of pissed at him at the time for posting the story of an argument between our mother and I (my period was a month late, she thought I was pregnant*— not even an argument she was just annoyingly suspicious for a week or two) online. He changed names for privacy, but there were people who knew who he was so it wasn’t that hard to figure out who his “sister” was. Since I never gave him permission to share it with anyone, I asked him to take it down. He did eventually. but I guess that could be for another AITA post.

*I have never dated or shown interest in dating anyone.

Overall, I feel that he has the right to argue/have a bad relationship with our mother. But I also have a right to let it affect me without being labeled as a bad or traitorous sister.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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steviewashere · 22 days

Note

27,28,32 Eddie finds out he’s pregnant and tells Steve

Oooo, okay, I had so much fun with this one! And, get this, it's not almost three thousand words!

27: "I'm pregnant.", 28: "Marry me?", 32: "I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified."

Tags: Established Relationship, Post-Canon, Trans Eddie Munson, FTM Eddie Munson, Pregnant Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Marriage Proposal, Pregnancy Announcement

————— This is definitely not how Eddie thought he’d start his day.

He’s in the bathroom of his and Steve’s apartment, just sat with his head in his hands to accommodate the wave of nausea that overcame him. And that’s when he got the smart idea that…well, maybe he should figure out why he’s been so sick the last week or so. Steve’s still asleep in their bed. Came home late from work, wanted to sleep in on his day off, and already knew that Eddie was sick.

But didn’t know that it was because Eddie’s period was late. He had a sneaking suspicion that there was something wrong, when he didn’t have to put a pad in his underwear, but he thought it could be from PCOS or something unrelated. It’s not. Which is evident in the stupid plastic stick in his shaking hands, lightly glistening from his own urine, and definitely showing two prominent dark pink lines. He’s crying at eight in the morning, holding a stick in his hand, sick to his stomach, and shaking.

Whimpering, he knows that there’s no way he can avoid this. Steve is too observant for his own good. He’ll figure out something’s wrong or changed. And he’ll be too good, too sweet, and Eddie knows he’ll run. So he’s going to face this. Just like he did with the demobats. Facing this is half the battle. Finding out Steve’s reaction is the other half.

He exits the bathroom, stick in hand, but stops short in the open space of their room. At Steve on his belly, snoring smooth into his pillow, blanket pooled at his waist, nude skin golden with sunlight that peers through the window. God, he’s so beautiful; Eddie doesn’t know what to do with himself if Steve rejects all of this. Carefully, he gets back in bed quietly, not even jostling Steve’s body. He sets the test on his bedside table, hovers a hand over Steve’s back, and swallows down the soft sob that wants to override him.

Gently, he runs a languid stripe down Steve’s spine. “Baby,” he whispers, “Stevie, sweetheart? I need you to get up.” He takes a stuttering breath as Steve stirs, rolling over on his right side, blinking his eyes sleepily. Steve yawns, stretches, rubs fists over his eyes. A pout present on his features. Eddie feels awful for having to wake him up so early, but he thinks he’ll throw up if he has to keep this a secret any longer. “Okay,” he exhales. His breath shutters. “Okay, Steve, I need you to listen to me.”

At that, Steve blinks completely awake. Sits himself up against his pillow. Hands already grasping for Eddie’s. Face blank of anything teasing. Eyes going soft and concerned and imploring.

“Um—I—I think I’m in love with you—“

Steve chuckles. “Baby, I already knew that,” he lightly teases. But the small quirk he had to his lips dissipates almost as soon as it appeared, falling into the space between them.

Eddie nods anyway. “—And I’m terrified,” he admits. “I’m really fucking scared right now, but I know that I love you. I know that you love me, but I…” He tears one of his hands out of Steve’s grip, runs it harshly over his face, and curses softly, “Fuck.”

“Hey,” Steve murmurs, “You’re okay. Take your time, babe.”

“I’m pregnant,” he rushes out. “Steve, I’m…I’m pregnant. I don’t know how it happened. Must’ve missed my birth control a few times? Maybe I—I’m probably just fucking stupid and miscalculated when my period was supposed to happen. I’m sorry if this is—“

“Really?” Steve asks, breathless.

That’s when Eddie notices he wasn’t looking at Steve. Drags his eyes from their hands, the blanket that swamps him, and up to Steve’s…excited eyes? Shining and happy. He’s smiling, the small crinkles by his eyes are all too noticeable. Smile lines deep. All his teeth are showing. He releases a sigh of relief, nodding.

“Oh my God!” Steve exclaims, bouncing the bed with it. “Holy shit! That’s awesome, Eds. That’s so…Wait.” He pauses. Movement stilling. He’s half off the bed, angling for his bedside drawer, and reaching to Eddie, too. “Unless…Do you want this? I’m really excited for this, but I only want this if you want to.”

“I…” Eddie looks off to the side momentarily. He’s a bit afraid, honestly. Of what may happen with his body. What he may have to go through. The absolute uncomfortableness that he’ll have to endure, but…He’s thought about this before and been excited about it, too. Kids weren’t always ideal to him, not really. But having a kid with somebody he considers the love of his life, who’s looking at him like a puppy awaiting a bone toss, he’s content with whatever happens next. “Yeah, Stevie, I think I do,” he murmurs, “But only with you. With anybody else, I think I’d shrivel up and die.”

At that, Steve bounds off the mattress and disappears down their hallway, clambering about their living room. He rushes back in, careless of the neighbors below them, and skitters to a stop in front of Eddie. Slams his butt back down on the bed, hand gripping something, taking both of Eddie’s hands.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” Steve pants. “Like, seriously, insane.”

“Okay,” Eddie says slowly, “You’re scaring me a little, baby.”

He can see Steve swallow harshly. “Sorry,” he mutters sheepishly. “I just—This is crazy. I’m crazy. So, like we were close friends for a really long time before we got together,” he begins first. Gesturing with their conjoined hands between them. “And I knew that you were somebody I wanted in my life, no matter what we were. I knew that, like, day one? So, when we started dating, I had a feeling deep down that you were it for me.”

His eyes dart very briefly as if searching for words. He bites down on his bottom lip and works his breathing to be set normal. Eddie didn’t even realize he was still panting until he fully relaxes in how he sits.

“In our second week of dating, I got this insane idea. Went out to the mall with Robin, dragged her to the nearest jewelry store, and made them figure out the size of one of your rings. The ones you put on your ring fingers,” Steve explains softly. He grabs for whatever is in his left hand, fidgeting with it so that only he can see it, and then turns it around for Eddie to finally peer at. It’s a small, blue, velvet box. “We don’t have to do anything about this immediately. Whatever you want, I want. You’re one of my best friends. My romantic soulmate. And I love you beyond belief. So…Marry me?” He asks, enamored and giddy.

The box opens. Revealing the shiniest silver ring Eddie’s ever seen. It’s not that thick, a simple thing, doesn’t have anything added to it. But to know that it was made to his exact size, that’s something he carries warmly inside his chest.

He looks back up to Steve. “Yes!” He exclaims. “Are you…You’ve had this since week two? I can’t believe you right now, baby. Holy—“ And he takes the ring from the box, lets Steve slide it on his left ring finger, and just admires at it.

“I can’t believe that I get to be a dad, too, Eds. You’re the love of my life. This is…Fuck sleeping, lets celebrate!”

“Oh, how do you plan to do that? Because I could just sit here and fucking ogle this forever, Stevie.”

“I’ll show you how excited I am, how about that?” Steve teases. His eyes hood, cheeks flush pink, and Eddie knows he’s the happiest man alive right now. Well, other than the darling man in front of him. The pure giddy excitement on his face is something special.

#stranger things #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #my asks #trans eddie munson #ftm eddie munson #established relationship #mild hurt/comfort

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

Hey can you maybe write a fic about Eddie helping his gf through getting her period really bad at school love ur writing x

AN | Eddie Spaghetti, the best and softest boyfriend. We all deserve an Eddie 🥺🥰

Warnings | Language, Period talk

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You wished you could have stayed home. Realistically it probably would have been the best idea, but you also knew that your mother would never allow you to skip school for something so menial such as your period. Even though it was a well known fact that your periods could be brutal sometimes, making it almost impossible to think or focus on anything but your cramps. But you were tough, Eddie always reminded you of that, so you were going to suck it up and deal with it.

But honestly? It fucking sucked.

It was barely halfway through your second class of the day and you were already suffering. It was going to be a long day…at least you were able to look forward to the evening with your wonderful boyfriend. If you made it that far anyway. Dramatic? Yes. Justified? Also yes.

At least you had enough foresight to keep a bottle of painkillers in your locker. Maybe that would help a little bit - worth a try anyway. You excused yourself so you could go to the restroom, grabbed your bag so not everyone had to see what you were doing, and stopped by your locker first.

When you closed your locker again, a small yelp escaped your lips. There was none other than Eddie, standing there with a big smile on his face, “fucking hell, Eddie!”

“Sorry sweetheart,” he pressed a playful kiss to your cheek, “thought you heard me coming.”

“You’re silent like some kind of weird ninja,” you waved your hand around to which he only grinned, “or I’m too wrapped up in my own thoughts. Wait - what are you doing out of class?”

“Doesn’t matter - penny for your thoughts?”

“Eddie.”

“Fine,” he sighed dramatically, clutching at his heart as you just snorted at him, “I saw you leave class and followed after you. Had to make sure my best girl was okay.”

“‘m fine,” you murmured, trying to play it off like it was no big deal. You didn’t need him to worry about you on top of everything else, “you can go back to class, Eddie. I was just running to the bathroom.”

“When did you decide to start lying to me?” he raised an eyebrow curiously, your face flushing with warmth when you realized how easily he could read you. You opened your mouth to speak, but he put a finger on your lips to keep you from speaking, tutting gently, “honesty is the best policy, my love.”

“Eddie,” his name came out as a smushed murmur as he shook his head, “‘n not lying.”

“Wait,” his brows furrowed for a moment, pretty chocolate brown eyes studying you intently. You wanted nothing more than to lean in and kiss him, but his finger was still squished against your lips. It didn’t stop you from pressing a kiss to it, “I know what’s going on! It’s your least favorite time of the month, aka you’ve gotten your period.”

Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling his hand away from your face as you looked at him incredulously. Your heart melted as you looked at your metalhead in surprise, “h-how do you know that?”

“I…how wouldn’t I?” he looked at you in confusion as though it should have been obvious that he possessed this piece of knowledge, “you get it every month, it’s pretty much like clockwork for you….it’s not that hard to keep track. ‘specially after that one time when the condom broke and -”

“Eddie!” you hissed softly, looking around to make sure no one had been listening in. Luckily, it appeared to be just the two in the quiet, abandoned hall, “don’t worry, I remember that too. But, you…you keep track of it?”

“‘course,” his smile was always so magical - all toothy and sweet, showing off his dimple, “how else am I going to know when you’re suffering? I have to make sure so I can take care of you.”

Oh. Yeah, you were a sucker for this man, pure and simple. Your eyes prickled with tears, causing you to blink rapidly in order to try and keep them at bay. Eddie reached over and put his hand on your face, brushing his thumb over the apple of your cheek, “I love you, Eddie.”

“I love you,” he kissed your forehead before reaching for your backpack, “now let’s get out of here so you can rest.”

“Cut class?”

“Well yeah,” he answered as though it was the most obvious thing, “I know how bad your cramps can get and I think it’s better for you to rest than try and suffer through the rest of the day. Besides, these are doctor’s orders.”

“Oh? And just what doctor happened to make these orders?”

“Doctor Best Boyfriend Ever,” he cheesed, you giggled. You were madly in love with him, “now c’mon, let’s get out of here and let me take care of you.”

“Well, I have to listen to the doctor,” you nodded, leaning over on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. You grabbed onto him, gently holding it as you looked at him with the softest eyes, "thank you, Eddie."

"There's nothing to thank me for," he promised softly, "I would do anything for you."

"Can we stop and get some chocolate on the way home?" your voice almost dropped to a whisper as you looked at him with bright, shy eyes, "and maybe pizza?"

"Of course, princess," he swung your backpack over his shoulder, "now let's get outta here before we get caught!"

-─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Less than hour later you were padding after Eddie into his trailer, arms empty as he struggled to balance everything. You’d offered to help but he wasn’t having it for a moment; you were going to relax and rest and he would take care of everything else. He’d decided that you were going to spend the day at his, opting not to take the chance and going to your house in case one of your parents came home early. As good as they were, they wouldn’t understand you needing to leave school early.

“Home sweet home,” he beamed, setting your backpack down and pizza on the counter…along with the bag of sweets you’d collected at the store. You’d fully intended on buying the things you wanted and the supplies you needed, but Eddie had beaten you to it and taken everything to the register and paid for it himself. As if he could get more amazing.

“I love it here,” you sighed softly as you walked over to the couch and almost collapsed on it, reaching for one of the soft and well-loved blankets, “it always feels like home here, ‘cause of you.”

“I love it when you’re here,” his heart constricted in his chest and he thought he might die from the sheer amount of affection and love he held for you, “how’re you feeling?”

“Okay,” the painkillers were slowly wearing off and you felt the onslaught of cramps starting to come back, “tired, getting crampy. Hey, my love, you’ll tell me if I’m being too annoying, right?”

“If that ever happened, you know I would,” you heard him shuffling around in the kitchen, “but that is impossible, so you never have to worry.”

You laughed at his silliness, and it was only a few seconds before he came over to you and kneeled at your side. Unable to stop yourself, you reached over and brushed his curls out of his face, “hi handsome.”

“Hi beautiful,” he held up the heating pad before reaching under the blanket and placing it on your tummy, “I know you like the heating pad for cramps, so I got one to keep here.”

“Oh Eddie,” before he could turn to plug it in, you tenderly grabbed his face and pressed a kiss to his lips, “you are so wonderful.”

“I’m just…trying to help,” his entire face turned pink at your praise as he made quick work of plugging it in. He handed you a bottle of water, a few more painkillers, and a candy bar, “and I hope this is helping.”

“It is,” you really couldn’t have asked for anything or anyone better, “Eddie? Can I ask you for one more favor?”

“Of course,” he touched your face so gently that it made you want to melt into him, “anything, princess.”

“Will you cuddle me?” your soft lips pulled into a pout, causing Eddie to chuckle. As if that was really a question - the man would cuddle you no matter what, “you don’t have to, if you don’t wanna. I feel all icky and gross, but -”

“You are perfect,” he insisted firmly, leaving you no choice but to accept what he was saying, “and you are not icky or gross or anything like that. I will gladly cuddle with you, sweetheart.”

“But if I get blood-”

“You won’t,” he stood up to kick his shoes off, and discard his jacket, “and even if you did, so what? It’s just blood, it’s all natural, what your body is going through is normal. It sucks and I wish I could make it so I was the one dealing with it, but it’s okay.”

“Okay,” you sat up and scooted over so he could lie down. He slowly did so, and pulled you on top of him, settling you between his legs so you could rest your head on his chest. He made sure the heating pad was right on top of you to help as much as it could, “you’re so warm, like my own personal heater. And you’re so comfy.”

“Ahhh,” he groaned playfully, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “I knew you only wanted me for my body.”

“I’m a woman of taste,” reaching for his hand, you threaded your fingers through his and rested them on your tummy, “what can I say? You’re the total package - handsome, smart, funny, and multi-talented? What more could I want?”

“Silly girl,” there was nothing but gentle affection and fond teasing behind his words, “what more could I want? Nothing, that’s what.”

“Hmm,” sleep was quickly making your eyes heavy and you felt yourself falling under the siren call of slumber, “me neither. ‘m gonna marry you someday, Eddie Munson. You’re not just boyfriend material, you’re husband material.”

“Funny,” and oh. How his heart was beating wildly in his chest, surely threatening to break through his ribcage, “I was just thinking the same thing about you. Gonna marry you, princess, but I’m gonna do it right.”

“Whatever you do will be perfect,” you murmured already half asleep, “because it’s you.”

“Oh honey, honey,” he sighed wistfully, “I love you, but I think right now you need to rest and later we watch a movie and eat lots of snacks, yeah?”

“Sounds perfect,” you agreed, “love you so much, my Eddie Spaghetti.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #this one is for me today lol

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sissylittlefeather · 5 months

Text

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 5

A/N: This is the time travel/soulmate AU with Elvis and a fem!reader. We pick up with Elvis having traveled from 1960 to 2010 and then refusing to leave. Make sure you come back for Chapter 6 soon!

Special shout outs to @ccab and @elvisfatass for listening to me go round and round about this fic constantly! I love y'all so much!

Need to catch up? Here's my Masterlist.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI!, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (both receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie. Also, drinking and possible alcoholism.

Word count: ~2.8k

"Oh my God, Elvis. What have you done?!"

******

You look at him with your eyes wide and he takes a deep breath.

"I made a decision. And I'm happy with it." You shake your head and feel the tears forming in your eyes.

"No no no! This can't be the way it is! You have to go back!"

"It's too late now. Are you saying you don't want me?" A moment of panic flashes across his face at that thought. You grab his face with both hands and look into his eyes.

"That's not what I'm saying at all. You know I love you more than anything. I'd give anything to have you here with me forever."

"I am here!"

"But I know your future. This is wrong."

"Maybe my future is different now."

"No. That's not possible."

"Y/n, what's done is done. Can we just enjoy the fact that we're together and stop worryin' so much about how it might change things?"

You know you can't, but for his sake, you'll at least stop arguing about it. You'll figure out a way to get him home. Somehow.

"Yes. I am glad that you're still here."

"There. Now that's better." He wraps you in a hug and kisses your forehead. You realize that you're both still sitting there with nothing on and reach for your sweatshirt.

"No, come here." He pulls you to him until you're settled in the crook of his arm. "We never get to do this. One of us always leaves. I just want to hold you like this for a while."

When you realize he's right, you revel in the closeness of just laying there naked together. He plays with your fingers, kissing the tips of them periodically as you talk. He starts by telling you about the army, but that moves into a conversation that's deeper than anything you've had so far. You talk about faith, what it means to be alive, and what you both want to do and be before your time is up. There's a deep intimacy in this moment with him and you love him more by the second. You've never had a connection like this with any other person before. It feels like he's a part of you and the longer you're together, the stronger that feeling gets.

After a couple of hours, you get to a small lull in the conversation and you hear his stomach growl. You roll onto him and put your chin on your hands.

"Should we go get some food?"

"Food would be good." He smiles. "You got a diner in this town? I need a burger and shake."

You laugh at the thought of trying to find a classic style diner for him. There's one place in town he'd probably love, but they have a whole wall dedicated to pictures and memorabilia of him. So that's out of the question.

"Not a diner, but we'll find somewhere that has what you want."

"Not a diner?"

"They're kind of out of style."

"Oh." He laughs and remembers that he's not in 1960 anymore. "Speaking of out of style, I can't wear this uniform around."

"Yeah we need to go shopping. We'll just go to Target real quick and then get some food."

"Target?"

"Yeah it's kind of a superstore. Like Walmart but better."

"Walmart?"

"God sometimes talking to you is like talking to an alien. Just get dressed and we'll go." You stand up and throw his pants at him laughing. He gets a serious look on his face.

"Wait. Are there real aliens now? Have you been to space?" You try to match his serious tone.

"Yes. I went to Mars for vacation last year."

"What? Really?" His eyes are huge. You can't stand it anymore and the laughter comes pouring out of you.

"No! You goofball. No, I've never been to space. And if there's aliens, we haven't met them yet."

"Well, I don't know! 50 years is a long time for things to change!" As if on cue, your phone rings on your nightstand, playing a pop song. You grab it and see that it's your mom calling.

"Ugh." You toss the phone on the bed and he stares at it.

"What is that?"

"Oh lord." You shake your head and pull on some underwear and a bra. "How do I explain this? It's a phone."

"That's a phone?! Where is the cord?"

"It doesn't have a cord. Unless it's charging. It has a battery."

"And it plays music?"

"Yeah, that's my ringtone." He glances at it again.

"Wow. Can I see it?" When it finally stops ringing, you unlock the screen and hand it to him. He holds it like it might bite him. His response to technology is unbelievably endearing. He loves the idea of it, but he's also wary of it. You finish getting dressed while he experiments with the touch screen, accidentally opening apps and asking you to fix it. He's amazed when he finds the weather app. You show him that it's not just a phone, but a calendar, clock, calculator, and camera too.

"It does all kinds of things. It even has the internet."

"Internet?"

"Yeah, it basically has access to all of the information in the world. People put stuff on the internet and we can see it. Like, here." You take the phone and open a webpage to Google. "Ask a question."

"What kind of question?"

"Anything you want."

"Are aliens real?" You smile and type that into the search bar. You walk him through how to click on the websites to find the answer, even though his question can't really be answered.

"You can ask it pretty much anything." He looks at you with his eyes wide and you realize he's still standing there in just his underwear.

"Can I have one of these?"

"Maybe. Depends on how long you're here. But right now you need to get dressed." You take the phone from him and hand him his shirt. He throws it around his shoulders and buttons it and you hear him mumble under his breath.

"That's goddamn incredible."

******

After you shop and eat, you head back to your house to hang out for a while before you get ready to go out that night. You have plans to go with your friends to your favorite local bar that does karaoke on Sunday nights.

You make some spaghetti for dinner and eat it together in your living room. He compliments your cooking, even though you know it's very basic. Still, he eats two whole bowls, so he must like it a little bit. After you eat, you go to get in the shower to get ready to go out.

"Can I come?" He asks with a devilish grin. You know where this is headed, but you're not exactly complaining.

"I don't know, can you?" You respond slyly.

"Oh, I think I can." He laughs and slaps your ass. You both strip naked and tumble into the shower together. You get mostly clean and then his lips crash into yours in a fury of passion. You press your naked body against his and he turns the shower off. He wraps you in a towel and gets one for himself before walking you backwards into your bedroom. After you're dry, you both drop your towels to the ground. He grabs the back of your thighs and you jump so that your legs are around his waist, your mouths still pressed together in a passionate kiss. When you make it to the bed, he lays you on it and kisses down your neck to your chest, not stopping until he gets to your core. It's clear he's practiced since the last time you were together, since he moves his tongue on you with no hesitation.

"Oh my God, Elvis." You moan. He really knows what he's doing now. His tongue moves over and around your clit skillfully and he slides two fingers inside you to tickle the spot that makes you crazy. You feel the coil of your orgasm tighten and you grip the sheets with both hands. When you look down, he's looking up at you, face buried in your pussy as he watches you revel in the pleasure of his mouth on you. He stops just long enough to whisper into you.

"Come for me, baby." He continues to pump his fingers in and out of you while his tongue makes a point and licks directly over your sensitive bud. You cry out as your climax slams into you, pushing electricity out to your fingertips and back again. Wetness spills out of you onto his hand and he pulls back, smiling. He slides his fingers out and wipes his face with his other hand. He goes to line himself up with you, but you push him onto his back and situate yourself between his legs. You've learned a few things too.

You pump his cock with your hand for a bit, sliding his foreskin back, and then lean forward and lick a slow circle around the sensitive head.

"Oh, fuck, baby." You open your throat and push him as deep as he'll go into your mouth, pressing your nose into the soft patch of hair at the base of him. He leans his head back and opens his mouth. You continue to bounce on him quickly and he grabs your hair to hold it while you move. You slide your tongue up and down the bottom of his shaft and then swirl it around the tip again. He pulls your hair gently and thrusts slowly into your mouth. When you can tell he's getting close, you suck off the tip with a small pop and then look up at him. You kiss back up his body and he flips you over onto your back with him on top of you and pushes into you passionately.

"Sorry, honey, I couldn't wait any longer." He pants as he drives into you over and over again. You whimper in response, obviously not complaining about his pace. Your breasts bounce as he pounds into you and he watches them match his movements. You wrap your legs around him and he groans with the change in sensation.

"You like this, baby, when I give it to you hard like this?" He whispers in your ear as he fucks you with all his power.

"Yes, yes! I love it!" You respond, nibbling on his earlobe.

"Good. That's my good girl." He continues to slam his hips into yours until neither of you can stand it anymore and you come undone together, your orgasms hitting you at the same time. He shudders and groans and you cuss and flutter around him. Finally, he rolls off you and you both lay there breathing heavily. He leans over and kisses your shoulder gently.

And then you hear it. The buzzing sound. You sit up frantically, but a lightbulb goes off for him.

"Y/n! The portals!"

"What about them?"

"They open when we have sex!" He looks at you excitedly.

"Yeah, and?! You need to go!"

"No. I don't."

"Elvis, I'm not having this fight with you again."

"No, honey, I just mean I don't have to go right now. If this one goes away, we'll just make another one." You look at him with your eyes wide. He's right. Every time you've had sex, a portal has opened. It's like the connection between you is what's causing them to exist in the first place, so this ultimate expression of your connection forces them to open.

"You're right!" You laugh and he grabs you and pulls you close to him.

"I'm not going anywhere. Not right now." Not ever, he thinks to himself, but he'll break that part to you slowly.

The portal disappears with a pop and you stay there in his arms. But how many portals is he planning to ignore?

******

Later that night, a few of your friends come over to pre-party for the bar. Several of them recognize "John" from the last time he was around and he greets them happily.

One of your friends busts out a bottle of Fireball and starts pouring shots. You take one and drink it and Elvis holds one to his nose cautiously.

"Aw, come on, John. I know you like girly drinks. This is basically candy." Katie teases him, remembering his love for Malibu and pineapple.

"Haha." He mock-laughs teasingly in return. Then he closes his eyes and tosses back the shot. He winces a bit and then opens his eyes.

"Damn, alright, that's not bad." Everyone laughs and they pour another round of shots. He only does one more, but you do three. He looks at you with mild concern, but doesn't want to be the guy to tell you not to have fun.

Either way, you're feeling very relaxed by the time you get to the bar. You settle at a long table with your friends and lean over into his shoulder. He wraps his arm around you, half because he wants to touch you and half because he's holding you upright. You're the first one of your group to volunteer to sing and despite the amount of alcohol you've had, he's amazed at how you sound. Your voice is soulful and strong and it makes him love you even more. When you get back to the table, they're pestering him to sing.

"Sing an Elvis Presley song. We know you know them." You make eye contact with him nervously, but he shrugs. There's no way they would ever know who he is, even if he sings. He goes up and talks to the DJ and then settles behind the mic. The first few bars of Jailhouse Rock come through the speakers and he starts to sing.

You've never seen him sing on stage before. He's just as electric as they said he is and you're spellbound. All your friends clap and cheer, but you sit there in silent amazement. He does a few dance moves as he sings and you understand why girls threw their underwear at him. You'd drag him off the stage to the bathroom right now, if you could. You half consider it for a second, but he finishes the song and takes a bow. When he walks back over to the table everyone gushes over how much he actually sounds like Elvis. He laughs and thanks them and then you grab him and pull him into a deep kiss right in the middle of the bar. He pulls back after a few seconds.

"Honey, there are people everywhere."

"I don't care." Your words are getting a little fuzzy, since you've had two more drinks at the bar.

The rest of the evening passes and you continue to drink while he continues to watch you worriedly. You both sing a couple more songs and finish with Love Me Tender as a duet. You never lose your ability to sing, but when you stumble and he has to catch you on your way back from the stage, he decides it's time for you to go home. Katie agrees and volunteers to drive you both home. You try to argue, but your words are so slurred at this point that it's a lost cause. On the way to the car, he actually goes ahead and picks you up to carry you.

In the car, you go on and on about how much you love him and how much you love watching him sing. You actually even call him "Elvis" a few times and Katie raises her eyebrows.

"She's so drunk. She must think I'm the real thing." He laughs nervously. "Does she do this a lot?" Katie shrugs.

"Yeah. It started a couple years ago. She went to Memphis and came back different. I'm not sure if something happened to her or what."

He looks at you where you've fallen asleep in his lap. Leaving him in 1958 must've been harder on you than he thought.

When you get back to the house, he has to carry you inside. Katie offers to take care of you, she's done it a lot recently, but he says no.

"I've got 'er. Thanks for the ride." She nods and he takes you into the bedroom. He takes off your shoes and your jeans and is trying to sort out your bra clasp when you sit up in the bed.

"Oh no."

"What?" He gets his answer when you run to the bathroom and puke. He sighs deeply and then goes to help you. Luckily, his time in the military taught him a few things, so he brings you some water from the kitchen. Then, he holds your hair and rubs your back while you're sick. Eventually, your stomach is empty, so he gets you to drink some water and get back in the bed. There, he holds you to him and kisses your forehead. You mumble into his chest.

"I love you, Elvis."

"I love you too, honey." He settles in to sleep, worried about how you truly were while you were apart. He never even thought to ask if you were okay. In his mind, it's his fault that you're like this. There's no way he's leaving you now. Not like this.

******

Until Chapter 6!

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Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog @eddiesgirlforever @helen06dreamer @rjmartin11

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis presley fic #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis fic #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley x you #elvis presley smut #elvis presley fanfic #elvis x y/n #elvis x you

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