#I'm gonna go grab dinner and see if it doesn't leave me with some energy to work on Once Bitten | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

callofthxvoid · 1 year

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WHO: Luke Matthews, Calloway de la Luna, Celia Reyes Ortega

SUMMARY: Three people have dinner and talk about grief.

TW: Mentions of death

luke didn’t feel like his usual self for obvious reasons but most people didn’t actually know why. sure people knew lincoln and him were friends and could chop it up to that but there was more to it than just that. he’d only been leaving his house for work, the bar and to walk lady which is what he was doing now. making sure she could still get her energy out before dusk hit and was letting her run around wherever she wanted to right now.

"I'm just worried about him, I don't know what all he's been up to lately," Cal mumbled as he walked next to Celia. It was their new routine, her coming to the library or him going to the diner, then going back to her place. He'd been sleeping easier now days, less nights spent at the library. He brushed his hand against the back of hers, "Losing someone isn't easy and-" cutting himself off when he spotted Luke and Lady walking towards them. "Well speak of the devil, I was telling Celia it's been a while since I've seen Lady."

Celia was about to take Cal's hand when she heard him calling out to Luke. Looking over at the pair, she greeted them with a warm, if somewhat subdued smile, before crouching down to pet Lady. "Hello beautiful," she greeted, before looking up at Luke. "It is genuinely good to see you, Luke. Both of you." She gave Lady a few more pets before standing back up. "How are you holding up? I… I can't even imagine how you must be feeling at the moment."

the intention wasn’t to run into people but it is a small town after all. luke gave a quick nod to cal and watched as celia pet lady, shrugging at the question. “i’m fine,” he said putting his hands in his pockets. “it’s life i guess, people die in this town all the time what can you do.” he shrugged again.

They'd lost so many people this year, he hadn't known any of them personally. The closest being that reporter who knew Jay's dad's coworker. While he sympathized for them, it hadn't affected his day to day. "Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt still," Cal said studying him, pushing the thoughts of his sister away wanting to focus on Luke. "You eat dinner yet?" Glancing at Celia, technically it wasn't his house, but he hoped she'd understand what it was he was suggesting.

Celia looked at Luke with a slightly worried expression before glancing at Cal. She didn't mind that he had extended the invitation to Luke on her behalf - in fact, that only endeared him to her more. It was exactly what she had planned on doing anyway. "If not, you're very welcome to come over," she filled in. "In fact, I would encourage it. Guillermo is at his other place and Felipe is with Jay. Gives me an excuse to cook for more than two people."

luke only nodded some, it hurt a hell of a lot more than he was willing to show even though it was getting increasingly more difficult to hide just how much this affected him. "not yet, i was just gonna grab something at the diner probably." though he hadn't had an actual home cooked meal since finding out not having the energy to do anything else besides work and caring for lady. "i guess i could come over though, it alright if lady comes with? she's been getting upset when i leave her at home alone."

It was hard to keep his face neutral, part of Cal wanted to just hug Luke and tell him things would be ok. But realistically he couldn't even be sure, that and he knew well enough how hollow that could feel to hear. "Well you have the diner owner offering to cook for you," he tried to joke glancing at her, "No offense to your cooks, but you are the better cook." Bending down to pet Lady on the head, he figured Celia would say yes.

Celia felt a slight sense of relief when Luke agreed to come over for dinner. She laughed softly and shook her head at Cal's comment. "You only think that because at home I cook entirely different food than what we serve at the diner," she reasoned, before looking at Luke again and nodding in the affirmative. "Of course, Lady is always welcome. There might even be a meal in it for her too depending on what I have." Slipping her hand into Cal's, she nodded in the direction that they had been heading in. "Shall we?"

“that’s true i do.” luke managed to chuckle a bit. he nodded some and watched lady enjoy getting all the attention and at the mention of her possibly getting something to her ears perked up. luke shook his head at her with a slight smile and started walking in the direction now. “i’m sorry i didn’t ask, how are you guys?”

It still surprised Cal how easy it had been to fall into step with her, "I have gotten less Luke lectures over my diet not being just coffee now," giving her hand a light squeeze. "Same old same old at the library, other than trying to get Josie to take it easy," he said figuring it be better to take things light for now as they headed back. "Not sure if you heard but she's expecting."

Celia squeezed his hand back before looking over at Luke with a small smile. "It's the same at the diner, just getting used to operating things like normal now that the power is back, and we're not having to pick and choose what to run on the generator," she filled in after Cal's answer. "And the family is good. Now that school is back in session, you might actually see more of my son than I do. When he's not there, he's usually with Jay."

"i saw the paper said she was yeah." surprisingly luke had actually somehow managed to read that at some point, maybe it was a way to distract his mind he wasn't sure since he didn't typically read it. he was looking at the ground as they walked, reaching over a few times to pet lady along the way. "i'm glad powers back on, not that i really needed it for school but i'm sure the kids are glad the ac is back."

Cal grimaced at the mention of the paper, he'd have to check in on her later he thought. Having all your business out there wasn't going to help her out of whatever spiral she kept slipping into. "The kids and Jay seemed pretty happy about," he agreed, "Grateful for having it back for the library, having to open all the windows was getting a bit much." As they walked back he kept an eye on Luke, trying to gauge how he seemed to be doing, not feeling particularly reassured even with the affection he showed Lady.

Celia listened in, letting the two of them carry most of the conversation as they made their way back to her house, occasionally chiming in with a comment. She caught Cal's glances toward Luke a couple of times and each time she squeezed his hand to let him know that she was there. When they got to the house, she unlocked the door and swiftly made her way toward the kitchen. "Please make yourself at home," she called out."Can I get you anything to drink?"

luke nodded in agreement, he wasn't feeling very talkative as they walked so it was mostly cal speaking but he'd still try and chime in to keep the conversation going so neither of them felt like he was ignoring them. he let cal walk inside first then let lady follow behind, closing the door behind himself when he actually walked in. "oh um, i'll just take a water please." luke headed towards the living room instead so he could keep lady in there with him so she wouldn't try and get into the kitchen while celia was in there. "thanks for inviting me over by the way."

Cal had followed Celia into the kitchen grabbing three glasses and a small bowl. He set a water glass near her already knowing how she could be when cooking. Taking the other to Luke and setting the bowl for Lady down. Taking a seat on the couch he took a sip, "Course, you know I always have time for you." He wasn't always this open about his sincerity but with everything going on wasting time on being afraid of making things awkward no longer seemed worth the effort. Taking another sip he debated the elephant in the room before deciding to at least slide into it. "You been sleeping ok? Was pretty hot there for a minute."

Celia smiled at Cal at mouthed a 'thank you' before following him with her gaze as he left the kitchen and walked into the living room. She spent the next time in the kitchen humming to herself and preparing various ingredients. If they needed her, she reasoned, they knew exactly where she was.

luke took the glass and gave a quick nods and thanks before taking a sip from it. he held it in his hand as he leaned against the back of the couch and gave a simple shrug. "yeah a bit, doesn't help i've got this giant fur ball wanting to cuddle at night." he was grateful for it though, he needed it and lady knew that so he really didn't mind. "she's been coming with me to work more often too, the kids have been excited about that."

Cal scratched idly at Lady's head when she came over to sit next to him, he took a long sip sneaking a glance at Celia. He knew she was listening so if this went sideways he hoped she'd step in before he glanced back at Luke. "You know, no one would blame you if you needed to take some time off work. I didn't start at the library till at least a month after I got here. I didn't really feel like myself, least not a me without her," he said briefly grimacing at the end.

Celia continued cooking.

luke shook his head. "i'm fine, i don't need to take the time off work. he was just a friend so whatever, i'll get over it eventually." though he knew he'd told cal and celia otherwise or at the very least mentioned it being his best friend and it would've been easy to put two and two together. "i don't want to take the time off anyway." he needed the company even if it was the form of his students that he had to teach, it still helped.

Cal chewed on his lip as he rubbed the back of his neck, hell he'd barely dealt with his own grief who was he to say anything to him? "This isn't the kind of thing you just get over Luke, and…the way you talked about him, he wasn't just a friend was he?" He wasn't sure at what point they'd reached but with how Luke was talking he was leaning towards them still being in that weird limbo zone.

Celia had forgone humming to herself while cooking in order to listen in on their conversation. She stopped in her tracks when she heard Luke refer to Lincoln as just a friend, a memory of a conversation they'd had a while back resurfacing from the back of her mind, causing her to furrow her eyebrows. Judging from what Cal responded, it seemed the two of them had had a similar conversation, and she quickly went back to preparing their food, albeit paying closer attention to what was being said.

luke was chewing on the inside of his cheek at this point. cal wasn’t technically right but he also wasn’t wrong either. “he was.” he said, taking another drink from his water to try and stop himself from saying anything more at that moment. it took him a second to gather his thoughts before he just blurted it out anyway. “but i wanted us to be more than that.”

Cal's gaze softened as he studied look, without thinking he'd glanced over at Celia while Luke wasn't looking at him. Partly to see if she needed help and partly just for the moral support for all this. Feeling a bit guilty that he had that while Luke didn't. "I'm sorry," he said glancing back at Luke, "How have you been feeling about this, or…are you just holding it in?"

Celia turned to catch Cal's eye, offering him a small smile before mouthing the words 'be right there' and turning her attention back to her cooking, at least until it reached a point where she could leave it alone for a little bit. Luckily, growing up in a house as chaotic as theirs had resulted in a lot of her staple meals being of the 'throw shit into the pan and wait for it to cook' variety. Setting the pan to a simmer, she picked up her glass of water and walked to the frame of the door, leaning against it as the watched the two of them on the couch. "Did you ever get around to telling him?"

luke took a deep breath and fell silent for a while. cal somehow always knew how exactly he was feeling about something even if he didn’t express it and as frustrating as it was in the moment it helped. luke shrugged now, “no i never got to tell him.” he decided to answer celia first since that one was easier. “and i… don’t know. maybe? i guess i haven’t fully come to terms that he’s gone yet.”

Cal had gone back to petting Lady, mostly to not stare at Luke, opting to let him work through his thoughts. He gave Celia a grateful nod, shoulders relaxing when she came over to the doorway. He bit back a sigh at Luke's confession, or well lack of confession. Nodding his gaze fell back to Lady, gently motioning for her to go back to Luke. "Yea that…that's the hard part. You wake up and you don't…you um," swallowing he shrugged, "You forget sometimes, then it hits you again, but uh…it does get easier. It doesn't hurt as much." He managed to give Luke a small smile, "It does get easier, he was a great guy."

Celia had planned on staying in the doorway to the kitchen, but Luke's admission that he hadn't told Lincoln how he felt and Cal's awkward attempts at comfort prompted her to make her way to the couch, perching on the armrest next to Luke and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I can't say that I've ever gone through what you're going through," she started, squeezing his shoulder lightly. "But when I was at my lowest, the biggest mistake I made was trying to carry on with my life as if nothing was wrong. I needed help, and I refused to ask for it, and that ultimately made things harder for myself and the people around me."

luke had heard that it'd get easier before, he didn't believe it then and he wasn't really believing it now. maybe that was partially because of what celia had added on, acting like nothing was wrong and that he wasn't as upset as he was leading people on to be. he hadn't noticed lady coming back to him until she rested her head on his knee wanting attention so he scratched her head. "i just don't know what to do, every time i think about him all i feel like doing is crawling into bed and crying thinking that'll fix everything. like somehow my tears will bring him back but they don't and they won't." luke cleared his throat a bit, biting the inside of his cheek. "i was supposed to see him the day after i found out… i was going to finally tell him then.."

Cal's sister had been the people person, better at talking than him. He'd like to think she and Luke would have gotten along, probably bond over teasing him. His insomnia hasn't been as bad lately, can see the same look in Luke's eyes he'd seen on the mirror for months. "You don't have to do anything, just take it day by day," he said, "Honestly crying isn't a bad way to let it out." He grimaced at Luke's words, "It might not be the same but if you ever wanted to go see him and tell him that way. Might at least let some of what you're carrying go."

"Cal is right," Celia filled in, glancing up to give Cal a small smile while keeping her hand on Luke's shoulder. "Even if crying doesn't bring him back, you shouldn't stop yourself from feeling what you need to feel." She leaned forward to set her glass of water down on the coffee table before looking back at Luke. "You're not alone. If you'd like to go see him and talk to him, one or both of us can come with you if you think that would be easier."

luke shook his head again, partly because he wasn't even sure where lincoln had been buried and could only assume it was on commune grounds. "no. if i see him then i'll know it's real and i'm not ready to admit this is real yet cause then i'll start crying and i don't think i'll ever stop." he'd been able to hold out this long, only letting a few tears slip every now and again before he'd push the feelings down to find something to distract him.

Cal remembered that feeling, it taken having to watch the video of the event on repeat the first few days for it to really sink in for him. "We can go whenever you feel ready, or even if you only feel half ready. You can change your mind at any point, there's no rush to going through this," he said. As much as he wanted to tell him to let it out, he knew from experience it was easier said than done. "Look tonight we eat dinner, maybe have a drink. We don't have to figure everything out now."

"Drinks can definitely be on the menu if you'd like," Celia reassured him, giving Luke's shoulder one last squeeze before standing up and starting to make her way back to the kitchen to check on the food. Stopping in the doorway, she looked over her shoulder at the two men on the couch. "There's no wrong way to grieve. You know that, right? You do what you have to do, and when you need us, we'll be there." In a way, she was speaking to both of them when she said that, before disappearing back into the kitchen.

“drinks sound nice.” luke said quietly. of course they did since that was majority of what he was doing lately anyway. “and i’ll get back to you on the whole going thing, i don’t know if i’ll ever be ready for it honestly.”

Cal tried not to flinch at her words, he's let her know a lot about him, but that part has stayed pretty buried. "I can grab drinks," he offered, considering Celia is already busy with dinner. "Take your time, like I said no rush. It hasn't even been a month, Luke, and I mean in this town we kind of have nothing but time," he tried to joke to lighten the mood. Grabbing a set of glasses he set some wine at the table, figuring Luke would come and join him. Glancing at Celia, "Need any help?"

Celia was in the middle of taste testing her sauce when Cal asked if she needed any help. At first, she shook her head, but quickly changed her mind. "Actually, can you help set the table? I've still got some of this to do and you know where everything is anyway." She looked over at him, a small smile automatically growing on her face, before she turned back to the food. "And grab a plate for Lady as well. She's getting food too."

luke nodded and stayed on the couch for now just continuing to pet lady as cal and celia went into the kitchen. he wanted to chuckle at cals joke but couldn’t bring himself to actually do so then leaned forward to put his glass on the table. he took a couple of deep breaths finally getting up from the couch and headed for the kitchen where he stayed in the doorway, leaning against the wall.

Cal waited when she shook her head, had gotten use to her initial reaction to deny help before changing her mind. He didn't hold it against her, just happy she'd started letting him help. "Course she is," he said chuckling as he set the table as well as leaving a plate near her for Lady. Glancing at Luke he walked by and squeezed his shoulder, "Wine alright or would you rather have a beer?" He'd already poured the glasses but wouldn't be hard to switch it out he mused.

Celia smiled to herself, focusing on getting the food ready while listening to Cal moving around the kitchen, finishing up and place everything in serving bowls before carrying them over to the table. She offered Luke a small smile when he joined them before plating the food she'd prepared for Lady and setting the plate down on the floor. "We might also have some moonshine left behind by my brother, although sadly, I cannot vouch for the taste of that," she offered, before gesturing toward one of the chairs. "But either way, dinner is served."

#interactions: celia #celia: luke #celia: cal #tw mentions of death

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casspurrjoybell-33 · 6 months

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Wreckless - The Jacuzzi

*Warning Adult Content*

Emmett

I'm not gonna lie... lying in a pool of semen and lube and sweat is not the way I prefer to spend my time and I'm 100 % sure that Finnegan agrees with me but neither of us move for a few minutes and even then it's only to separate a bit and lie on our backs.

I find his hand and hold it while we catch our breath.

"I want the toy back," he murmurs and I'm surprised.

I don't mind, obviously but I'd been mostly kidding.

Not about fucking him again, that's no laughing matter but I haven't even figured out if it'll be tonight or the morning.

Tonight is looking good.

"And to shower the yuck off and get in the jacuzzi."

That sounds really good.

The only slight problem is that it requires us to move.

"I don't want a huge house, glad the bathroom is close by."

Shit, I hope that doesn't fuck with his 'Little headspace'.

I need to stop mentioning adult things that he has to worry about.

He snorts.

"That's what my master is for, Emmett."

In what may be the sexiest show I've ever seen, he re-lubes the vibrator and slides it back in.

"Can't waste the master's juice," he says, smiling.

I suddenly have a little bit of energy so before I go over and start something I'm too tired to finish, I get up and wobble into the bathroom.

I start the shower, use some mouthwash and tie my hair up.

"Come on babe, let's rinse."

We do a good bit more than that.

First I exchange 'Finn's' toy for a more waterproof plug and we both decide that soap is a must.

Afterwards we wander into the living room buck naked.

"I don't wanna wear shorts," 'Finn' says and I agree.

"I doubt anyone can see us but I think towels are a happy compromise."

I grab one, tuck it around my waist and go out to start the water.

Luckily it's cooled off enough that I can make it fairly warm and twenty minutes later we're both in.

'Finn' brought water and a bottle of wine but no glasses so we're just chugging right out of the bottle.

The jets pounding against my back are heaven.

"This is so nice."

"Feels really good. Wish I had some toys. Can I play with your hair?"

That's a lot at once and he currently has a toy that's being well used but...

"Sure."

I give up my back jets and spin around so that I'm in front of him.

"Whatever you want, kiddo."

Mental note, always bring toys.

Non-sexual ones.

Well and those.

So sure, toys.

I take a few sips from the bottle, this is probably the most expensive wine I've ever had and wrap his feet around me.

His hands feel really good in my hair and against my scalp.

They felt really, really good earlier too.

"I loved you pulling my hair earlier, darling."

"Me too. Lots."

He gives it a quick tug and then leans up and kiss my cheek.

"And you were wrong, Emmett, you said I wouldn't like the second part but I did. Super lots."

Super lots.

He's cute.

"I'm glad."

"I made you feel good. I'm a good boy."

Damn, he needs to stop.

Empty balls or not, damn.

"Yes you are. I'm proud of you for taking my cock so well."

"I miss you but the plug is nice. Scoot up."

I oblige, who am I to say no to a request to 'scoot'?

"I'm hungry."

"I'll order us something. What sounds good?"

There's no way I'm leaving this room unless it catches on fire.

"I want a hamburger... a huge hamburger. With exta cheese."

I saw them on the menu earlier, no problem.

He's gonna have to wait a bit though because I'm not getting out yet.

Besides, he had ice cream so he's not actually gonna die if he has to wait an hour.

"I'll get you one when we get out."

We soak until the wine is gone and then finally drag ourselves out of the tub.

I feel like I'm floaty, like gravity isn't working quite right because all my muscles are jello.

He hops under a blanket and finds Avatar, the last Air-bender on TV and becomes completely engrossed.

I order dinner and clean up the mess we made earlier.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I'm now sporting a french braid down my back.

Peter would laugh his ass off.

I'm surprised he did such a good job.

"Where'd you learn to braid, Finn?"

"My sister, she always makes me."

His use of the present tense jumps out at me and I'm glad he's fully back in headspace and enjoying his weekend, especially since I messed it all up earlier with the medication freak out.

I'm not going to fuck it up again.

I want him to be 'Little Finn' at least until we're home tomorrow... if I can manage it.

Once we're back in Baltimore... we may need to talk and handle some things but for now it's just us.

My cell-phone rings and I glance at the name flashing on my screen.

It's Harris.

"I'll be right back, darling."

I go into the bedroom and answer.

"Hey."

"Hey Locke, how are you?"

He always asks me that and he's one of those people that really want to know.

He's living over in California now, in Los Angeles I think.

He's a social worker or a therapist or something and his new career is perfect for him.

I always tell him that 'I'm fine' but this time I get to say...

"I'm really good. How are things in sunny Cali?"

"Warm. I hate it but it's good for the leg."

"Glad it's helping, Harris. How are you feeling?"

"Eh, it's still attached," he jokes.

"When are you gonna come visit?"

"Not this week" I tease.

But actually, it does sound good.

He's been asking me for six or eight months, since he headed out there.

I'm way too busy but I wonder if it's something Finnegan might be interested in once things settle down.

Will things ever settle down?

"But maybe this winter, if I can swing it."

"Good. Hey, keep in touch, Locke and thanks again."

"You can stop thanking me, Harris."

He won't but I really wouldn't mind.

"You would have done the same for me."

"Absolutely but I didn't have to. Hasta pronto and Locke?"

"Yeah?"

"Congrats on the boyfriend."

"Thanks, Monk... I'll talk to you later."

Of course Finnegan asks me who it was, as soon as I head back out to the patio.

"An army buddy of mine."

"You guys still talk? That's good."

"A few of us, yeah. The guys I was closest with."

But that's not true... I just talk to the guys who make the most effort and are easy to reach.

I'm saved by a knock on the door.

"Dinner time."

Shit, I need shorts.

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bemylord · 3 years

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ꜱ/ᴏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴄʟɪɴɢʏ

characters: satoru, itadori, megumi, toji, nanamin, sukuna.

warnings: it's not an angst, but it has triggers because they screamed at you :( [toji and sukuna parts bc yall know those man] + grammar issues. [aged up?]

butler's remark: it was hard to write yuuji, megumi and gojou parts bc they are good and sweet boys and i practically cry. i also had decided to do as a hdc not in the fake text. i did a reader with a strong character.

apologies part.

ɪᴛᴀᴅᴏʀɪ ʏᴜᴜᴊɪ:

pls no. i can't even imagine that yuuji would scream to you or say you're bothering him.

but, okay, that's why you're reading this.

you just wanted a piece, a little bit, some, of yuuji's attention while he was training.

you came to him from behind, wrapping hands around his neck.

you were happy to finally see and hug your boyfriend, planning to spend an evening watching some tv-shows.

suddenly, yuuji turned to you, and instead of the usual: 'sweetie, i'm so happy to see you let's watch the tv or eat ramen!'

he answered: 'i'm busy, y/n, let's talk later.'

being busy by doing something is totally normal.

but he could at least said you not cold as that. he turned around his body, continuing to do the same thing.

'but i missed you, yuuujiii~' you stretched out [?] his name in a smile, clinging to his shoulders again.

'can you not being clingy y/n, i'm trying to train. give me some space, you're starting to annoy me!'

you were standing there with doe eyes - he had never screamed at you.

'yeah? whatever, itadori. i'm gonna cuddle with megumi-kun, good training.'

you left the room with tears in the corner of your eyes. you'll give the space that yuuji had mentioned - you won't be talking with him for some days or weeks, therefore he'll know he should watch his mouth. [to follow what he says]

ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ:

he came back to the dorm late after training with satoru.

you, being the lovely girlfriend ever, wanted to help megumi: you filled the bathtub with water, made delicious dinner, and find a good movie to watch after bath. maybe, it isn't a romantic thing, but it'll help him to release the tension in the muscle.

'megumi, you finally here!' you had green your boyfriend with a warm hug, as you always do, cupped his face to kiss him.

you were about to give a kiss, when 'gumi intercepted your hands, looking at you tiredly.

'how was the train? you must be tired, that's why i made for you bath and dinner.'

you walked into the living room as you heard him muttering.

'you always being so annoying and so mommy [i mean, hyper custody], i am not a child, y/n, i can help myself.'

'gomen-gomen, megumi, i just wanted to help you relax.'

'stop being like that! that's annoying, i'll take a bath alone, without you.'

you saw bruises and abrasions on his face - he must be angry about that. you have known how megumi hates to be beaten gojou or todou.

you decided not to answer, only waiting till his fury will calm down and he will apologize.

ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ ᴛᴏᴊɪ:

i want to confess right away - i'm already afraid of him.

toji should be about to return home from a mission any minute now.

you had baked apple pie and made dinner, anticipating for your husband to arrive.

you only overheard heavy footsteps in the living room, immediately run to see him.

'my love, you back home.' you were about to kiss him, when he turned his head, pronouncing:

'don't touch me.'

his obnoxious nature. over the years of living with him you have taught him to be more gentle with you.

'use better words, toji.'

'i will talk to you as i want, woman. the fact you are my wife doesn't mean i'll be docile.'

'don't talk to me like that, i'm yo-'

'shut up, you're just a wife who comes when i need her. don't exalt yourself. don't be clingy.'

notwithstanding your strong character, tears start to roll down on cheeks.

'i have no intention of being your servant, toji. find another 'wife', i'm leaving.'

ɢᴏᴊᴏ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ:

as you know, gojou satoru is a playful guy, who wants to tease you like 24/7.

you never thought that gojou would scream at you due to you being clingy. it happened, tho.

you are basically just like him, naughty and agile, waiting for him after work so you could take gojou in your arms and kiss him.

when you heard as the door opened, you ran to hug him. however, when you were anticipating to him to do the same, he uttered: 'let go of me.'

you thought he wanted to hug you first, so you've wrapped your arms around your neck tighter.

'did i not make myself clear? get off me. you being so clingy and intrusive.'

'i missed you, 'toru.'

'we see each other every single day, let me spend a few days alone, don't act like a child, stop being sticky'

when you heard the last word, you get off your boyfriend, watching as he slowly walking into the living room, not look at you.

'a few days alone? fine, gojo, whatever. all you want, i'm leaving.'

you grabbed your phone, leaving the house.

ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ:

you had mentioned that you might be clingy or sticky, demanding a lot of attention, when you on the period.

he agreed, laughed at your words. 'i always be with you anywhen, angel.'

as silly as it may sound, you wrapped your arms on a pillow, which was smelling like him, imagining it was kento.

you heard as a door opened, cheerfully coming down to greet your boyfriend.

'welcome home, darling, i was waiting for you to have some.. cuddles!' you straighten arms on him, expecting kento hugs you.

'it seems as you need me only for that, y/n.'

'no, darling, of course not. how was your day? tell me while we're gonna have a bath.'

'that's what i'm talking about. can it be only one day when you stop being sticky like that? i'm tired from work i want to be alone.'

you were speechless. you mumbled something illegible, step backward.

'y-yeah, s-sure..'

you walk in the bathroom, hiding your tears from him. as soon as you found yourself in the room, you sob.

'he just tired. i-i won't cry.'

you let your boyfriend spend an evening on his own, trying not to cry.

ꜱᴜᴋᴜɴᴀ ʀʏᴏᴍᴇɴ:

disclaimer: the king was really mad today, exactly today when you wanted to cuddle him.

you came to his domain, happy and shine like the sun - you've moved up in the ranks, isn't that a success?

you baked muffins, the kind that the king likes - with chocolate, and garnished with nuts on top. [it's only my opinion]

so, when you stood in front of a pile of skulls, sukuna unexpectedly said: 'you should leave. now.'

'huh?' you turned your head on the left, in a curious gesture, waiting for him to explain.

you did a step forward, thought you misunderstood him.

he didn't even look at you, sitting on the throne like you ain't here like you're sort of a slave, not a girlfriend.

'i've got so good news, sukuna. the first i had baked muff-'

before you could've finished the sentence, he used cursed energy to stop you, knocking the treats out of your hands.

'i fucking said you to leave my domain, woman. are you that stupid? and stop being clingy, it's irritating me.'

you knew his nature, you knew he might indicate something offensive, but, that one - above hurtful.

'what's wrong, the king?' you said his position mockingly, going down the skulls, looking at his back. 'go to hell, i'll tell it itadori. be here alone, sukuna.'

well, shall i do a part two with apologies? also sorry for kinda sad post.

[?] - pls corrent me if i used the wrong word.

↳ back to the main master list.

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raggaraddy · 3 years

Text

Mouthy

Prompt: You say to Yandere BTS "Oh my god! Just shut up!"

A/N: Couldn't sleep, so I wrote this laying in bed. I hope it's not some sleep-deprived nonsense ^-^

Trigger warning: Yandere themes, violence, emotional manipulation, choking, non-con, D/s themes, examples of a bad D/s dynamic.

Alpha! Namjoon

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You scream it through your bedroom doorway. Storming to the railing of the stairs, you lean over and scream again. "Shut up!"

The sea of people on the ground floor go quiet. Only the music dares to keep making a sound in the background. You skulk back to your room, slamming the door loudly behind you. You had had a long, disappointing day. You were tired and grumpy, and moody and sad. But the dozens of uninvited pack members couldn't care less as their party raged on into the night.

Not allowing you enough time to even climb back into bed, Namjoon storms after you to address your outburst.

"Y/n, go downstairs right now and apologize." He orders.

"No." you mope. Feeling it's a wildly unfair request. All these people are in your house making so much noise when you're trying to sleep. How is it you that's in the wrong?

"Do you think I am asking you? I'm telling you. Get downstairs now." He says sternly. His strict tone making you even more emotional. You just wanted him to be on your side for this.

"But- But I," you sniffle, with tears in your eyes.

"No," Namjoon cuts you off. "I've asked you all afternoon what's wrong. And you wouldn't tell me. So right at this moment, I don't want to hear it. You have been disrespectful to me and my people. So you are going to put some more clothes on and cover-up, and you will go out there and apologize to every single person." He growls, leaving no room to argue. "And you will do it sincerely, or I will give you something to cry about."

King! Seokjin

You didn't say it to his face. You would never be that stupid. But still, you clearly weren't smart enough. While gossiping to a friend, someone you thought was a confidant, you're complaining about a seemingly endless, boring meeting you had to serve today.

"And I just wanted to tell all of them; Oh my god! Just shut up!" You laugh.

But hours later it's no longer a laughing matter.

"How did you enjoy serving me today, Princess?" Jin asks his tone giving nothing away of what he already knows.

"I enjoyed it. Thank you, your Majesty" You politely smile, thinking his question to be a kindness.

"I often find these meetings so dull. Many of the Lords do like to ramble on. Sometimes I would enjoy telling all of them to just shut up." He speaks the words so purposefully that you know at once you've been exposed.

"My Lord, I-"

"If you are smart you will not say another word." He speaks softly, with a grin on his face. "I want to thank you, Y/n. I have an endless supply of other people I can hurt. Each one of them is freely at my disposal, but you are my favourite toy." He fills the space in front of you. "However, I am a man of my word. I swore to you that you will be unharmed if you are obedient, and I would not dare to break this vow. Of course, I have sorely missed playing with my beloved little dol, though."

Towering over you he sets off your instinct to get to your knees and grovel, begging his forgiveness for your carelessness. But that would only be a wasted effort.

"So thank you, Princess, for giving me the possibility to hear your pretty cries of pain again. I will make sure to use this opportunity to its fullest."

Assassin! Yoongi

He had been in a hyper mood for 2 days straight. His energy and enthusiastic interaction was something you always craved, but you had never dealt with it this long before and you were losing your sanity and your composure.

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You shout at him as your last nerve snaps.

"Okay, Y/n." He gives little to no reaction. "Remember you said this in a month from now when you're begging me to speak to you."

But it didn't take a month. In two weeks you were in tears apologizing. He left you free to roam the house, but he revoked all communication from you. The only times he gave you any attention, was when he forcibly made you stop doing something he didn't like. Or when he wanted you for sex. But still, he wouldn't utter a single word, only bending you over to take what he wanted.

After 5 weeks, just as you thought you'd never hear his voice again, he finally broke his silence. Only to break your heart.

"Listening to you these past few weeks, I realise how much you talk. It's time you take your own advice and shut up. Y/n, I don't want to hear a sound out of you until I say. 5 weeks was easy enough for me. So let's start with that, and then I'll see if I want to hear from you yet."

Vampire! Hoseok

Hoseok was always so animated. Normally it didn't bother you, but he was talking and reacting through yet another movie and you were sick of it. It might have been because you were PMSing or maybe because Hoseok had forgotten to feed you all day, but when he yelled at the TV, you yelled at him.

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" And right away you were teeming with regret.

"I'm sorry baby. Am I being too loud?" He laughs with an unexpectedly harmless reply. Playfully but roughly slapping his hand on your thigh. "I'll keep it down."

You're not dumb enough to think that your eruption would go unanswered. So you sit tensely, anxiously waiting to see how he will repay you.

"Baby," he whispers in your ear, after sitting in silence for 20 minutes. "You know I have very strong hearing right?" You nod nervously. Chewing your lip. "Well, your breathing is too loud and very distracting. I can hardly hear the movie. Can you please fix that?"

You know this is going to lead to something horrible, but you have no choice but to do as he says. For the next 10 minutes, you're completely distracted trying to inhale and exhale as softly and shallowly as possible.

"Hmm baby, it's really too much. I can't concentrate on the film." He stands, pulling his belt off. "Here let me help you."

He wraps his belt around your neck, pulling and setting it so tight that it's biting into your skin. Your throat constricting, barely letting you breathe.

As you wheeze and splutter and cough, he holds the end like a leash. Sitting back on the couch, he turns his focus back to the movie without letting you loosen the strap or get away. Your whole body is shaking, your eyes starting to roll back as you struggle to inhale. The belt is cruelly not tight enough to have you pass out though. Only allowing you to sit in your suffering. The sound of your gasping filling the room.

"Ahh, there you go baby. That's much better. Don't worry, it's just while we're watching movies. And there's only two more left in the trilogy."

Playboy! Jimin

He was telling you over and over how sorry he was. How he didn't mean to kiss that girl. That he was drinking. And that she kissed him. It was every excuse and lie he had spouted 100 times before.

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You yelled at him. And for a moment it worked. He sat in stunned silence. But as you got off the bed to leave, taking your car keys with you, he chased after you.

"Where are you going?"

"Out Jimin. I need some time alone to think." You scowl.

But he refuses, blocking the door. Holding his arms to either side to barricade you in.

"No, you can't leave! I said I'm sorry."

"Fuck off Jimin, your apologies mean nothing." You say shoving him.

He doesn't accept that. With a roar, he grabs your shoulders throwing you down onto the bed. Quickly straddling you, using far too much force to keep you pinned beneath him. Tearing off the pillowcases, he makes some shoddy but effective restraints. Tying you to the bars on the headboard.

Ignoring your screams and how you struggle he starts to kiss down your neck, pulling at your clothes, rubbing his hands down your body.

"I'm gonna make you feel good Y/n. I'll show you that I only want you, then you'll have to forgive me." He says sounding desperate and unhinged.

You cry and yell for him to stop, trying to buck him off you, but his hand covers your mouth, his other successfully tearing down your panties from under your dress.

"Don't fight me, Angel. Just let me in. And I'll prove I love you the most."

Dom! Taehyung

Finally, Taehyung had agreed to spend some time with you in a social environment. He and you went out to a movie and dinner with some of your friends. They were vanilla friends though, so as an exception, for the day he loosened a lot of the restrictions and formalities you normally had in place.

You, however, you were getting a little too relaxed. While you joked with you're friends, you started to speak to him the same manner. As you and he were playfully arguing about trivia facts you realized you were losing the debate.

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You joke. But in the company of your friends or not, Taehyung was not about to let you disrespect him. Even in jest.

"Is that how you should talk to me girl?" He asks loudly and in front of everyone, bringing the group conversation to a grinding halt.

His change in tone and his use of the possessive pet name, right away have you back in your place.

"No," you whisper. The sting of embarrassment hot upon your cheeks.

"No, what?" He pushes it.

You can't stand to look up. All of the attention is on the two of you. And even in your peripheral, you can see your friends looking at you judgementally, wide-eyed and in shock.

And he was making it worse by having you use his title around them.

"No, Sir." you surrender, your head hung low.

"Shouldn't you also apologise to the other people at the table? For interrupting our night with your rudeness." He keeps piling on one shame after the other. Stretching out the ordeal.

"No, it's fine." One of your friends tries to laugh off the awkwardness and speed the discussion away from this point. "She doesn't have to."

"Y/n," He prompts you, disregarding what your friend had said.

Thoroughly humiliated, you can't imagine how you are going to repair these relationships or explain this treatment away.

"I'm sorry for interrupting the night with my rudeness." you swallow heavily, hands shaking.

"Good girl. Now mind your mouth. Before you make me embarrass you further."

Mafia! Jungkook

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" you say in a hushed voice. More of a prayer said to yourself than an actual demand you expected Jungkook to hear.

"What did you just say to me?" he lowers the phone, gawking at you.

You really didn't mean to, it just slipped out. He was talking on the phone, going into too graphic detail about how he and his men dealt with a threat recently. You couldn't handle the gruesome details he was recanting anymore and the words just fell out.

"What did you just say? Did you just tell me to shut up?" He repeats again through your nonreply. His tongue running through the inside of his cheek, his jaw and muscles tensing. His voice jumping rapidly from stunned to aggressive.

You're at home alone with him, so you weren't paying much mind to what you were saying. But this afternoon he's been dealing with work. And right now he isn't Kookie, no the person in front of you is Jeon Jungkook. The temperamental Mafia head, who would as likely hit you as he would speak to you.

"I'm sorry," you squeak.

"You're sorry?" He scoffs, slamming the phone down. "If you had said it and meant it, that would be one thing. I could respect that. But you really just can't control your stupid little mouth can you."

"I-" you start a defence, or more a plea for mercy.

"Shut the fuck up!" He growls leaning forward in his seat making you flinch back. Darting his hand out he grabs you by the hair, pulling you back to where you were. "Don't flinch. I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm gonna help you." He smiles.

You wriggle in his clutches, mewling the same trifle apologies under your breath.

"Shhh, my brainless little Kitten. I'm gonna give you a gift." He smirks. "For your own safety, you don't need to talk for the rest of the day. I just need you to come when I call. Sit on my lap when I tell you. And purr for me like a good little pussy." Grabbing your arm harshly, he yanks you off your chair and onto the ground. "There you go, where you belong." He laughs. "You think you can remember to do all that? I know you can. Otherwise, I'll buy you a kat collar to remind you how my Kitten should behave."

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min-yunki-agustd · 2 years

Text

sickie: Yoongi

Caretaker: hoseok

Tw: scat, stomach pain, mentions of nausea, and v****

Word Count: 2,237

I hope you enjoy it! update: Its nice to be back!

_______________________________________________________

Survive this company dinner, yoongi told himself. He just needs to survive this one night and then he could go home and sleep the weekend away.. being around hoseok will give him the energy he needs so that he can survive this company dinner. The only problem is that hoseok can't know he's sick, he doesn't want him to worry...

Yoongi had been feeling sick all day, he had been working at home but came back to grab some notes he had forgotten at his office in bighit, He was told by a coworker at hybe that there was a company dinner tonight and that attendance was mandatory. He noticed hoseok geting in a showfur car. He opted to catch a ride with hoseok to the restaurant. Hoseok greeted him when he sat in the car. the shofer asked if anyone else would be joining and hoseok said no, knowing that this was the last ride for the trip to the restaurant, all the other members had already left and caught the first and second ride. Hoseok was in the last ride because he was cleaning up the dance studio, he was the last one to be in the studio and he hates leaving it messy when he leaves. Once yoongi is settled into his seat Hoseok can feel how warm Yoon's skin is without touching him. " hyung? why are you so warm?" hoseok asked giving a giggle at the end of his sentence. " I'm just a little hot in this car.." yoongi lied. He was freezing and trying not to let his teeth chatter. " would you like me to turn on the ac?" the driver asked. before yoongi could even speak hoseok answered for him. " yes please, thanks" yoongi kept his mouth shut he had to work harder to not let his body shiver against the car's ac on full blast. On top of that, he had to keep his symptoms in check. His tummy at the moment was really giving him some trouble. It had been aching all day. He tried meds, warm foods everything he could think of but the medicine would end up not working and he'd throw up the little amount of food he mustard down. yoongi eases a warm hand onto his tummy, it feels so good. It makes the aching sensation a little bearable. His own hand melted into his angry tummy.

" hey hyung?" hoseok says. yoongi turns to look at hobi. " are you... ok?" hoseok asks looking at yoongi's hand which is obviously rubbing his belly. yoongi stops immediately when he realizes what hoseok means. " oh your talking about me rubbing my belly? I always do that" yoongi tries to play it off. "no, you always do that when it is bothering you, is it.. bothering you? did you eat something with flour or did you not eat at all?" yoongi felt cornered he didn't really care for lying he just didn't want him not feeling well to be a big deal, he was just gonna get through tonight and sleep it off after. the truth is that he hasn't been able to stomach anything and his tummy is achy and sour from puking so much today. yoongi lies once again. saying " I was working all day and eating slipped my mind. I'm just hungry" yoongi regretted using that excuse but he plays along anyways, figuring his hyung needed a good meal. hoseok doesn't accept that excuse. " you'll have to eat enough to make up all the meals you missed when we arrive." yoongi rolls his eyes since when do you tell me what to do yoongi murmurs. " the moment you stopped taking care of yourself" hosoek says back with sassiness. Hoseok knew something was up.

They arrive at the restaurant, and yoongi does not feel any better upon stepping out of the freezing car. yoongi sees a crowd of people he knows from work along with all the members. All socializing, he feels sick to his stomach. He really wasn't in the mood for socializing tonight. They eventually get through the crowd of people, properly greeting everyone. Yoongi's nausea built up during the process it was a lot of moving around hugs and firm handshakes causing shooting movements to his stomach. After they find a seat they pick out a food set on the table. hoseok takes yoongi's plate and adds food for him. It's easy to get food for yoongi he eats practically anything, still, hoseok avoids the foods he knows might have flour in them. He knew yoongi wasn't well and he didn't want him feeling worse. He gave yoongi his plate and begins making his own. Simply looking at the food made yoongi sweat. Once hoseok is done with his plate he sits back and begins eating. hoseok notices yoongi is eating abnormally slow, especially for a person who is quote " hungry" " come on hyung eat didn't you say you were hungry" hoseok is using yoongi's own lies against him. So far, lying was only bitting yoongi in the butt. yoongi begins to take fast small bites. At that same moment, hitman bang's assistant came to the front of the rented-out area and says that in a moment he will be saying a few words. yoongi wants to be respectful and wait till after hitman bang speaks and then leave for the bathroom but he can't. He's barely had a few bites and he can already feel it coming back up. He felt so sick so fast it made him lightheaded. He'd rather go now than stay and make a mess anyway.

yoongi rises from the table. hoseok grabs his arm and whispers," where are you going Mr. bangs about to speak?" yoongi didn't have much time before he'd start gagging he could feel it in his throat. " I really need to pee I'll be right back" he needed to get out fast. " he got up quickly. hoseok feels a bit bad for giving him so much to eat knowing he's sick, he thought it would help. yoongi manages to make it out of the room. He scurries down the hall o the restaurant. He finds a waiter. "Where is the bath-, "yoongi gagged hard and covered his mouth. The waiter points further down the hall. It looked like a long way away. yoongi feared he wasn't going to make it. He goes as fast as his stomach lets him, the food in his stomach sloshes around heavily making his nausea worse. He holds on to the side of the wall for balance. His fever must be getting high he starts to get dizzy. He makes it. he threw up a little in his mouth and hand, but that was manageable. As soon as he nealed in front of the toilet, a surge of sickness came straight out. He was surprised, he didn't gag at all at first, it surprised him when so much sickness came out of his body so fast, that he couldn't keep up. he was panting, dizzy from the lack of air. He remembers that he gagged a lot and partially threw up a little in his mouth in the hall so he panics slightly less. When he felt the stream sow down he thought he was getting a little break but his stomach convulsed inside of him and projectile puke flew past his lips hitting the toilet seat and around the floor. Yoongi gags, he has nothing left to get up, he gagged dryly again, he tried to save himself from a world of pain, his body was going to make him throw up stomach acid which would make his throat even more painful and sore than it already was, but he forced down some big deep breaths. He held his breath for a moment. The nausea subsided, he thought he'd never get out of the bathroom and that he was gonna miss the entire dinner and be in trouble but he was able to get back in time. He rinsed his mouth and washed his face and he was off, back in the room hybe rented out for the night. Just in time, hitman bang was just about to start speaking.

Hoseok couldn't help but notice his Hyung sickly completion. It was worse than before he went to the bathroom. It made hoseok worry. Hoseok was just about to ask yoongi about it but, at that exact moment, Mr. bang began to speak. Hoseok stayed quiet and listened to the speech. yoongi was on the other hand having a hard time keeping up with what Mr. Bang was talking about. Yoongi had yet another problem. His stomach was hurting like crazy. It was to the point where he couldn't help but wrap both arms around his midsection. He hoped it didn't look too suspicious, but with nausea not quite dying down and something new going on with his intestines, he couldn't help but hold his stomach. There was far too much going on with yoongi's body to even bother trying to keep up with the speech. He felt freezing cold yet sweat would occasionally fall from his forehead and is currently damping his shirt, his stomach twisting itself into a knot, nausea constantly building. Even tho it looked like he was listening he was doing what he wasn't. Hoseok took notice of this when Mr. Bang had ended his speech and walked off and yoongi was still looking forward, staring off into space at this point. Yoongi's stomach was so loud and painful. Hoseok tapped his shoulder to get his attention. Without saying a word yoongi got up and started walking to the door again. Hoseok assumed yoongi was headed to the bathroom again. This time hoseok wasn't going to let him go alone, he followed behind. When yoongi began to hunch over and pick up speed hoseok picked up speed as well.

Hoseok watched as the other made haste for what he presumed was the direction the bathroom is in. Noticed how tight yoongi was gripping onto his own stomach and the little pain noises he made as he went along. yoongi must be really sick hoseok thought. They made it to the bathroom, yoongi almost lost the battle he was having with his intestines when he heard extremely close footsteps echo the bathroom walls. Started he turned around to see that hosoeok had followed him. " Hoseok? what are you doing in here?" yoongi straightened up and asked. " you didn't seem ok so I followed you here, I was gonna as-" yoongi curled in on himself again and left in the middle of hosoek's sentence. He went straight to a stall. He slammed the door and hastily got in. Hosoek didn't want to intrude on his Hyung but got worried when he heard painful soft moans coming from the stall, hoseok decide to lock the door before going over to investigate. "Hyung? Are you ok in there?" hoseok asked. " ouuuuwww" is the thing hoseok heard as a reply back. Yoongi sat shaking as everything he'd just had violently left his body. He wished the bathroom was empty but at the same time, he's glad hoseok followed him. His stomach had yet to stop rolling and twisting painfully, while long steams painfully exit his body splashing against the walls of the toilet. It was when his mouth began to water and taste like stomach acid that he began calling hosoeok for help. he asked hoseok in a weak voice for him to bring him a trash can. Due to the other end not letting up. It was the moment that hoseok handed him the trash can that he wonder how he had gotten so sick. His hands touched the small metal bin, it was freezing, and he felt like he'd freeze to death simply from the touch. The bin came just in time, he had begun to cough and retch. with how funny his stomach was it was hard to tell what would happen next but that changed when a particularly painful cough turned into a retch. A little bit of water sick hit the bin causing yoongi to gag even louder than he for shoving his head back in the bin. His intestines not sparing him even once for a break.

Hosoek cringed at the sound of liquid hitting metal. Once yoongi felt like it was safe to lift his head up the madness began to die down. After a few minutes of collecting himself, he was able to clean up and leave the stall. Hoseoko was waiting patiently outside the hall with paper towels and a water bottle. Yoongi didn't even hear the other leave before. Yoongi walked over to the sink and hoseok helped him clean up. " I'm ... going to take you to the doctor." Yoongi had no energy at all to fight or try to make excuses, he simply accepted his fate. As yoongi was sipping on the water hoseok gave him, Hosek sent out a message to the other members explaining what has happened and what he planned to do now. Once They finally exited the bathroom they walked outside, hoseok called the showfer back. While he was waiting for him to pick him up he noticed yoongi aggressively shivering from the corner of his eye. Hoseok took off his jacket and gave it to Hyung. Yoongi was so cold he accepted it gratefully...

#sick!yoongi #tw nausea #btssickfic request #bts emeto #bts sickfic #sick bts #tw vomit #tw emeto ment #tw emetophobia #sickieyoongi #caretaker!hoseok

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deerestapologies · 3 years

Text

5 times you called him by a pet name + one time he called you by a pet name

(Diluc + Zhongli x GN!Reader)

Diluc

1. "Oh, hey hon." You greet mildly.

The candles have begun burning a bit low, the long shadows making his pout even more obvious.

"I apologize, I was held up for longer than anticipated."

He produces a small bouquet from his coat, a cluster of wildflowers, and approaches like he's about to give an offering instead of a gift. He kneels by your chair, face stoic as usual, but you can see the worry and shame in his eyes.

You twirl the stems to absorb their delicate scent, and then carefully drop them in your water glass. You cup his face in your hands, and press a kiss to his brow.

"It's okay." You kiss his brow again, "I am not mad." You kiss his nose. "I am hungry though."

You laugh lightly at his rush to sit across from you. An evening eating cold roast was worth being able to spend it with him.

2. "I understand your frustration, but perhaps we had best move on." You place a hand on his crossed arms.

"Their behavior was unacceptable, especially for those who would call themselves knights."

The stubborn clench of his jaw tells you just how angry he is. The idiots were lucky to have only gotten the verbal bludgeoning earlier instead of the literal one he wanted to dish out.

"Yes, but you've already made them apologize, and they do seem repentant," the fool knights in training nod frantically, "so why not leave this mess for Kaeya, darling?"

He sighs, but loosens his posture to wrap a protective arm around you. The hell the Knights were going to catch for this was still to come, but at least no one lost any limbs. Yet.

3. Tucked into your pile of pillows, book in hand, you waited as you do most nights. Diluc had a late meeting scheduled after dinner, but he promised it was truly to do with the winery and not of the vigilante variety.

So you bide your time, until you hear his heavy boots come up the stairs.

"I'm home." He calls softly.

"Welcome back." You say just as softly.

He goes through the motions of undressing, refreshing himself, and redressing without missing a beat, but his posture seems wilted. You mark your page, and turn over the blanket for him.

"How did it go?"

He heaves a deep sigh, and crawls over to you. Pulling you close, he lays his head on your chest but doesn't say another word.

"Oh, sweetness." You embrace him, one hand holding his face and the other in his hair. "It's okay. I've got you."

4. You lengthen your steps, but the increased pace doesn't seem to deter the boy following you. He isn't dangerous per se, but his persistence is damned annoying.

"But, if you'll just listen," he jogs back up to your side, "I just need your help for a little while!"

"I am neither a Knight nor an Adventurer," you cut him off with a sharp wave of your hand, "And you have nothing I want. Now leave me be."

He sputters, "M-master Diluc said-"

As if he's had his tongue plucked out, he suddenly stops talking.

You turn around only to find Diluc himself, a stifling hand on the kid's shoulder. His face is a stoic mask as always, but his energy is thunderous.

"I agreed to help you out of deference to your mother, but you," You see the boy wince as the hand tightens, "failed to listen to a word I said. Harassing my staff and my partner has only earned you banishment from all of my properties. Now go, before I report you to the Knights as well."

You both stand stock still as the boy sprints from the winery back to Mondstadt proper.

"Your going to report him anyways, right?" You mumble, after he is just a speck on the horizon.

"Of course," He finally relaxes his stance to look at you, "Though I doubt Jean will be happy about it."

Your chuckle, already imagining her face when the letter reaches her desk. Heaving a sigh, just grateful for the problem to have moved on, you grab Diluc's hand.

"Thank you," You pull him into a tight hug, "for protecting me as always, angel."

5. You gently rap on the door frame to his office. He looks up from his work just long enough to give you a soft smile.

"I was wondering," You lean against the frame, avoiding actually entering lest you get sucked in as well, "If my dear husband was going to come to bed tonight?"

The bright lamp on his desk means you see his blush even from across the room. He huffs an embarrassed laugh, but starts shuffling paperwork into orderly piles.

"I hadn't realized the time, my apologies."

You hum, "It is understandable. But I cannot rest if you are not in bed with me."

You watch as he tucks away his tools, pulls his gloves off, and undoes the tie in his hair, all with a much to pleased smirk on his face.

He pulls you into a delicate, lingering kiss with a hand on your neck. The warmth of his skin makes you shiver. You lean into him, letting him wrap you in his arms.

He chuckles, "Well, I would hate to neglect my husbandly duties."

1. The lingering warmth from your bath and the softness of the sheets has you dozing in minutes. You toss a hand onto Diluc's side of the bed, wanting to be present when he comes to bed as well but the ache of a long day is catching up to you.

After several moments you feel a calloused hand grasp your own. You are too tired to properly see, but feel the dip as he climbs into bed.

Still holding your hand in a delicate grip, he presses a kiss to your palm, and then your cheek.

"Sleep, my love, I am here."

Zhongli

1. Zhongli re-enters the house not even ten minutes after leaving. He is patting down his jacket and looking about the entryway in wonder, and you can't help but chuckle.

"Forget something?"

"Yes," he plants his hands on his hips, "I can't seem to find my wallet. I could have sworn I remembered it this time."

You get up from where you were leisurely awaiting his return, and snag the 'disappearing' wallet from where he left it on the table.

"Not quite, old man." You wave it, teasing.

"Ah, of course."

Tucking it into the pocket of his jacket, you tug him closer to plant a kiss on his flushed cheek.

"My apologies, it seems I was a bit distracted this morning."

He tucks a piece of hair away from your face, gaze so blatantly loving you can't help but crash your lips against his. Damn whatever appointment he may have, he shouldn't be so handsome in your direction.

2. It is not every day you wake up before him, so you try to make the most of it. You prepare his clothes for the day, just so you can pick out your favorite of his shirts. You start a light breakfast, and brew an energizing blend of tea for both of your sake.

You spend some time simply waiting at the table, content to sip your tea and watch the morning birds.

When the soft shuffle of feet brings Zhongli into the kitchen, you stand up. He is mostly dressed, minus his tie and shoes, jacket loose around his shoulders.

You steer him to the table, and press a kiss to his cheek when seated.

He hums contentedly, still a bit sleepy, "Good morning."

You pour him a cup of tea as well, and his smile grows a bit wider. He tilts his head up, "Thank you."

You meet him half way, pressing a firm kiss to his mouth, "Of course dearest. Do you have anything pressing today?"

A hand comes to rest on your hip, preventing you from moving back to your seat.

"No, nothing more important than this."

3. Squished between the mattress and the press of his body, you couldn't imagine being more content. The warmth, the scent, the feel of his breath ghosting across your skin.

You run a reverent hand through his hair, spread loose over his back. It seems impossible for you to be this happy, like you would only read about in unrealistic fantasies.

Amber eyes are already watching you, when you open yours. His gaze is soft, unbearably so, so you look at the ceiling.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

He answers it so easily, as if it is among the many universal truths that exist in his head.

"You must understand," You wet your nervous mouth, "I mean it. Truly, I love you."

You feel his head tilt in confusion, but power on, emotions spilling.

"You are my starlight. My life would be unimaginably dark without you. I am scared constantly by the sway you have over me, but I cannot stand the idea of living without you. I want be here with you, forever, no matter the cost."

You squeeze your eyes shut against the flood of tears that threaten to spill, waiting for his polite retreat. His body lifts off yours and you pull a shuddering breath in, unused to laying yourself bare in this way. He could end you now, destroy you by just walking away.

But you feel tremoring hands grasp your face, almost too tightly. He doesn't say a word, can't, but presses his forehead to yours.

4. "Zhongli?" You call into the empty hum of the parlor, hoping it will carry to his office. It's not far, but he gets absorbed in his work easily.

You lean out the door a bit, and try to project your voice more, "Hey, honey?"

The door to his office clicks open, and his head pokes out. "Do you need assistance?"

"Yes, please," you adjust the pile of books in your arms, "Would you mind grabbing this other pile? A client requested reference material from just about every era, and I don't think I have the wing span to carry all of it."

He presses a quick kiss to your head, and scoops up the remaining books with no problem.

"Of course, would you like me to relieve you of those as well?"

"Not a chance, show off, you're gonna have to deal with the doors."

As if to prove your point, he balances the stack in one hand to hold the front door open for you, smile only slightly smug.

5. Given how busy your lives were, and his propensity for letting time fly, you figured he would forget again. It would not be the first anniversary he forgot, and you imagine it wouldn't be the last.

It's not like you could hold it against him, especially not when he was so earnest and loving all year round.

So your surprise was genuine when he led you, dressed in his best, to a private booth at Liuli Pavilion.

The food was made by the head chef, as a show of gratitude for Zhongli's long patronage (you send a quiet thank you to Childe), and the service superb. The evening is relatively quiet, you converse as normal but with the additional soppiness that comes from acknowledging romance.

You are especially glad for the privacy when you cannot help but practically ravish the man over the table, his face being too handsome to bear just looking at.

Shortly after, he looks at you with burning eyes, and finally says, "I am quite full. Perhaps we should head home."

"That sounds perfect."

You continue to stare, sappy and sated, as he blindly pats at his pockets, equally unwilling to look away.

After several moments, it dawns on you, and then immediately on him.

You can't help it. You laugh. Hysterically, because no matter what Zhongli is Zhongli.

He's standing now, flustered like you've never seen, pacing the room as if his wallet would be anywhere but the table at home.

"This was not my intent." He huffs, "I had planned the evening meticulously."

"And it was lovely," You choke back another laugh, "But, sugar, you are not living this down for the rest of our lives!"

You are laughing as you pull out your own wallet, giggling uncontrollably as you hand over all the money on your person, and can barely walk you're so light headed when he leads you out the door.

He doesn't once let you go, from the pavilion's steps to your front door. Indulgent to the end, your man.

1. It is always a pleasant surprise when your errands overlap. Working nearly in conjunction makes it happen quite often, but still, it makes your day brighter.

You have just finishing bartering your lunch into existence when you spot Zhongli headed your way. Quickly, you slip the chef a few more mora to add another dish.

He is at your side in an instant, bringing your hand to his lips in that coquettish way he has.

"There you are," he lowers your hand but does not drop it, "I've been looking for you, treasure."

You twine your fingers together, relishing the warmth. You snug up to his side, taking the liberty of placing his hand on your hip just to see him blush.

"Have you now?"

"Always."

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin diluc #genshin zhongli #(the chef after zhongli +1: excuse me this is a wendys)#an informal apology

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byulsgrease · 3 years

Text

duly noted

you've never been one to obsess about your soulmate, assuming you'll figure it out when the time is right. but seriously, what kind of nonsense has yours been writing about recently?

(eventual moonbyul / wheein x gender neutral reader, soulmate!au, trainee/idol!au, ~1.2k words)

a/n: wheein bias wrecker anon! I might've had too much fun with your req and so this is gonna be my first soulmate au 🤠 while byul and wheein don't actually appear in this part (does that make this a prologue? idk), I promise they'll make their appearance soon enough :)

cw: struggles of being a trainee (weight + food talk)

The claps from your dance instructor ring out in the mirrored studio, calling everyone to attention before they send you off for the day. Everyone stands around listening to whatever niceties they're talking about, asking the rhetorical questions of whether all of you want this, how everyone needs to work harder, etc. How many years has it been now, almost three? Evaluations went pretty well recently and you've certainly demonstrated signs of growth since you started, but debut? Who knows. Does anyone, really?

But right now it's late and you're hungry, hoping that your growling stomach isn't loud enough to pierce through the lecture. You're respectfully tuned out anyway, since it's all old news. Nothing you haven't heard before. They clap again once their spiel ends and everyone disperses. Your eyes catch Hyejin's on your way out of the studio, sharing a funny face and an eyeroll before disappearing into the herd of trainees shuffling to the lockers.

Your locker opens with a routine spin of the dial, taking care to slow down and line up the numbers properly so you're not stuck having to do it over again. The inside's pretty cute for a metallic rectangle— it's really the only space of your own besides your notebook. Pictures of your family, old school friends, and fellow trainee friends line the sides beneath a tiny string of battery-powered fairy lights. It's not much, but always a humbling reminder of why you're here.

Unzipping your bag, you take out a pair of slides and drop them on the floor while stepping out of your sneakers. There's not much else in your bag, just a change of clothes and your notebook, of course. Everyone has one. Anything inside could be drawn, written, scribbled, painted. It’s your personal creative space and no one else's, but with two conditions:

You can't write your name in it, not even your initials. Of course everyone tried to as kids against their parents commands, but letters simply sink into the page, disappearing as if they'd never been written at all.

You can only mark up one side. Pages on the right side are for you, and the left side pages fill themselves. Fill themselves with what? you asked your parents. They gave you a non-answer, saying you'd figure it out someday. Great. Only other thing they bothered to tell you was that your right-hand pages were someone's left-hand ones. So someone can see what I put here? Their confirmation sounded rather casual, which you found weird. Someone out there was watching what you put in? But you got used to it, especially since every person owns one. It's a novelty for children anyway. Mark up a page however you want, knowing that someone out in the would will see, and sit back to watch whatever randomness shows up on the left side.

Your left side pages were actually empty for quite a while, save for the occasional "UGGHHH" followed by a typical childish annoyance scrawled messily across the entirety of the page in marker. Not that notebook use was mandatory, but parents usually encouraged it because it kept their kids occupied. There wasn't much you could do about empty pages, nor did you care most of the time, but it did leave you a little jealous of other kids at school who'd sometimes open theirs and be greeted with cute watercolor paintings, mini murals, or skillfully written poetry.

For you, the notebook's served many uses. As a kid it was random doodles and poorly-drawn fantasy scenarios— escapism, perhaps. In middle school it was angsty poems and random journal entries about the random happenings of your life. For the first half of high school it became your to-do list, keeping track of school assignments. And on the rarest occasion, song lyrics. Visual art was never your medium of choice, music came more easily. But drawing staff lines for music notation in the notebook usually ended up being too tedious, so your original stuff was mostly relegated to voice memos on your phone. And now? Who knows. Trainee life may as well be a blur. Sing, dance, talk, eat if you can afford to, sleep, repeat. It's hard to find the energy to write anything most days. Whenever you feel like checking, the left side has random jottings, nearly illegible most of the time.

It wasn't until you got older that you realized that whoever read your entries on the was the same person generating content on the left. And supposedly the person you're supposed to be with for the rest of time? What kind of system is that? I'm just supposed to trust blindly? having asked your parents in exasperation after figuring it out. Again with more non-answers— it had worked for them, didn't it? There's also the obvious question of why people don't just write directly to each other, but whatever. You're still young, no need to obsess over "the one" unlike some of your classmates. If it's meant to be, it'll happen, you figure. And it obviously is, you've got a notebook with (semi-)filled left side pages. What more could you ask for?

The cacophony of clanging lockers opening and closing starts to die down as people leave. Hyejin's head pops out from behind the locker door, laughing in your face when you flinch.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah, one sec. Man, I'm starving,” you remark while slipping the bag straps on your back and closing the locker door. You don't even want to know how strapped for cash you are, probably in for another night of boiled eggs and canned kimchi.

“Wanna go out for food?” she immediately asks, eyes alight at the prospect of getting to eat something besides convenience store food.

"I wish. Actually, you wish," you smirk with longing in your eyes. The "no" doesn't even have to be said, weigh-ins are way too soon to risk it. She hangs her head, jokingly dejected as you swing an arm around her shoulder to walk out of the company building together.

~~~~

After scrounging up whatever food you call dinner, taking a shower, and flopping into bed, you open up your notebook and grab the random pen laying on your dresser, unsure of what you'll write about tonight. There's chicken scratch on the left page already, ballpoint pen. It's actually legible today, though: In my room every day I see your smile.

What the hell does that mean? Whose smile, yours? You haven't even met yet.

Call me everyday every night, hug me everywhere every time

Utter nonsense. Maybe meeting soulmates is just a huge game of catch-up once everything's finally revealed, surely yours will be. There’s just so many questions. Moving to the right side, you jot down a list of cheat meal ideas along with some assorted notes and pointers from practice that you want to work on tomorrow, drawing little characters next to each list item for fun. After accidentally drawing a random squiggle from jolting yourself awake and feeling the heaviness in your eyelids, you cap your pen and shut your notebook, placing it back in your bag. With the lights out, the last thought you have before sleep consumes you is why haven't you ever tried writing directly to each other after all this time?

[next]

#using their real predebut photos feels like a disservice lmaoo #girl crush is my fave cf tho :D #requested #💥 anon #mamamoo imagines #gg fic #mamamoo x reader #hwasa x reader #mamamoo fanfic #kpop fic #girl group fic #moonbyul imagines #hwasa imagines #wheein imagines #mamamoo scenarios #soulmate au

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julietnterein · 3 years

Text

•| Violacea I. chp. 13 |•

It was exactly five days after my incident, when I heard a small knock on my door. Dinner was supposed to be in an hour and I wasn't really expecting anyone.

„Friday?” I ask the AI while i sit on the bed and close the book I was just diving into. I have to stretch my muscles as I can feel them being a little sore after today's training with Natasha.

„It's Miss Maximoff, ma'am.” Says Friday.

„Let her in.” I nod towards the door as they automatically open and Wanda gives me a small smile even before she steps into my room.

„Are you busy?” She asks me as she leans into the doorframe.

I look at the book that I was trying to read and then back at Wanda: „Well, not really.”

„Cool, get up then. We have some training to do.” She doesn't give me a chance to protest or anything, so with a confused face I get up, grabbed my hoodie and followed her into the gym.

„Where is everyone?” I ask when no one is joining us for the ride in the elevator.

„It's just you and me.” She pressed the button with a small smile on her face.

„What do you mean?” I ask her, confused even more.

„I'm gonna help you with your powers.” She nods at me to assure me that everything's going to be okay.

I don't ask any other questions as her strict and determined face stops me midway.

No one from the team really knew about the training that I was taking with Wanda. She was trying really hard, we were taking baby steps, which as we realized after a week, really made progress. I was able absorb and hold the energy in my right hand, but that was where it ended. Even after a couple days I wasn't able to move from there, it was all I could do. Wanda was really supportive and was telling me that we already made a really big progress, but I was growing restless and annoyed. I felt unmotivated, we made such a great progress and now I was stuck.

„Let's leave it.” Says Wanda as she interrupts my hard trying. „Dinner is gonna be in five, we have to go.” She tried again, when she realizes that I want to try again and push my powers to the edge, which would probably end up, once again, catastrophically.

I sighed annoyed and angry at myself as I let my hand fall back to my side.

Wanda tries to smile at me as we walk towards the elevator. But I'm still mad at myself so I punch the button a little too much and she backs up a little.

„I haven't seen Clint for a while.” I say suddenly as we are two stories away from the common room. He wasn't in the gym with us for at least four days.

„I feel like he is on some kind of mission or something.” Says Wanda as we both step out from the elevator and then we continue our way silently. We walk through the hall before we realize that someone is really loudly arguing in the dining room.

„… We don't really know, we lost contact a while ago.” I hear Bruce's voice.

„And you are telling us now, why exactly?!” I hear Natasha's voice with a hint of something I haven't heard from her yet. She was panicking.

„We weren't sure if he didn't do it on purpose, maybe because he didn't want to jeopardize the mission.” Explains Bruce.

A long pause in their conversation is when I realize that both, me and Wanda, has stopped in our tracks, quietly listening to their conversation.

„Alright, tonight we will go to the last coordinates we heard from Clint.” Says Steve suddenly. „There is no need for the whole team to be there. It will be me, Pietro and Natasha, of course.”

„Maybe you could take Andreea.” Says Tony out of nowhere.

„Have you lost your mind?” Growl Steve as he is starting to lose his temper. „Do you even understand how much damage she could do and how much of a civilist we would put into danger if she would have lost her control?” I can feel Wanda's hand as she squeezes my shoulder quietly.

„And we also don't know how dangerous it could be for her.” Adds Natasha.

„Alright, alright… I get it, calm down, old man.” Admits Tony. Weird, from him I would expect much more fighting for something he wants.

„Okay, it's going to be quick. In and out, that's it.” End Steve the whole conversation.

Me and Wanda stayed quiet in the hall for a moment before we step into the room, like we just didn't ears dropped to their whole argument.

Even though all of them really tried, the atmosphere was thick and could have been cut with a knife. Bucky and Sam were really reserved and I haven't heard any of them have any snarky comments towards each other and Pietro was weirdly silent the whole time. I didn't know how close he and Clint were until Wanda told me that they both always have each other's back and that they are the initiators of most of the pranks on the rest of the team.

After dinner I make my way to the kitchen to help Wanda with the dishes but Tony grabs my forearm really quickly and steals me away from everyone. He drags me by arm into one of his labs, where Bruce is already waiting.

„What's going on?” I ask right away as I rub the place on my arm where Tony was gripping my arm.

Both of them exchange a nervous look before Tony starts talking: „I sent Clint on the mission, because that hideout is supposed to be filled with information about technology that I won't be boring the little head of yours.” I frown at him. „It's complicated and definitely not important at the moment. We think he is being held hostage, which we will leave to the rescue team upstairs.” He nodded up towards the place where dining was. „But you…” He points his finger at me. „I want you to bring me these folders, because if they fall into bad hands… you have no idea in what mess we will be.” He nods at. „Like total mess, probably like fall of our governments and total chaos on earth kind of mess, get me?”

„Yeah, I think I do.” I nod a little taken aback with all this.

„Don't worry, Andreea, I know this all is new for you, but Tony is right. If it's gonna fall into the wrong hands we would be screwed.” Adds Bruce.

„So these folders… They are really really important then?” I ask once again, as I'm not sure if I want to stand against Captain in that and ruin the fragile bond, that is almost non existing, but is there somewhere between us. „But I have never done anything like this… I'm not even sure I know how-...”

„You won't be alone.” Interrupts the voice of the silver haired man, that just appeared in the doorway.

„Why am I not surprised.” I shake my head. „Why can't we tell the others?” I ask all three of them.

„Well… Natasha would want to get Clint home no matter what it costs and Rogers is… Well, Rogers.” Explains Tony.

„Plus Tony made some accessories for that he would like to see in action.” Adds Bruce.

„Yeah, that's true as well.” Smiles Tony. „I saw how you and Wanda trains, so I made you a uniform. Friday, please…” He call for the AI, that opens a wall where the uniform appears on hangers. Basic black unitard, nothing special, strengthened in places like knees or spine.

„Well this is mostly an armour so no one shoots you dead.” Says Tony, like he just didn't assume someone will be probably shooting at me. „But look at… this.” He grabs a huge box where a large knives are lying. „Look at the grip, it's made exactly for you and your powers, you can absorb your energy and then let it flow into the knives, so it became a deathly weapon whenever you want.”

„They seem deathly to me, even without my powers.” I mumble quietly.

„They look sharp as hell.” Nods Pietro.

„Well you are both right.” Admits Tony. And then he takes one knife out and makes his way towards the uniform. „And by the way, they are made exactly to fit into your uniform.” He shows me how the knives stick into the places thanks to the strong magnets. „But it has a lot of things and technologies I installed, which you will get along with when you start using them. We don't have time for that now.” Says Tony and a long silence stretches across the room.

Pietro looks at me with a huge grin on his face.

„Let's kick some asses then?”

Chp. 14

TAG LIST:

@littlegasps @multi-images @fandomlover8020

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x oc #violacea #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x oc #tony star x oc #tony stark x reader #pietro maximoff x sibling!oc #pietro maximoff x sister!reader #pietro maximoff x oc #pietro maximoff x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x oc #wandamaximoff x sibling!oc #wandamaximoff x oc #wanda maximoff x sister!reader

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alottanothing · 3 years

Text

Kismet

Summary: Evie prepares a meal for the stranger who helped her and finds herself more than a little smitten.

Previous Part: Hope

Word Count: 5707

Warnings: Language

Tag List: @ramilicious, @txmel, @edteche2, @gloriousdarkangelsworld, @diasimar, @xmxisxforxmaybe (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N: Okay, I almost didn't get this up today because I was up most of the night sewing kilts for Highland Weekend at the Ohio Renfiare. BUT I stayed awake and did my final read-through, so this should be mostly okay. I skipped a couple steps in my editing to get this up on time but I think, for the most part, it's okay. If you see a grammatical booboo, just ignore it, I'll get in here sometime this week with my other two editing steps and find it, then repost this. Capisce? Okay, cool...now. I hope you enjoy it, I also hope my trying to phonetically write Mer's accent doesn't get too annoying. I know you really shouldn't write accents, but I think it helps add to the characters. And I do try to keep it to a minimum so it doesn't get annoying. Thanks for the love the first part received last month! I know waiting so long between updates is a bit sad after weekly updates with LtR. But life is busy right now and once a month is all can guarantee.

Jonny did not know how to keep a house.

In fact, Jonny did not know how to do much more than drink, argue, and get into fights. He was nothing but a thorn in Evie's side—never mind how much she needed him for a place to lay her head. A necessary thorn was still a thorn. Given the opportunity, she would rip it out as soon as she could and dress the wound promptly so she was finally able to heal better. She stayed only because she had no other choice. And every time Jonny raised his voice or stumbled in reeking of alcohol and red-faced, Evie could hear her best friend's warning in her head. Cynthia had begged her not to go with him, but she hadn't listened.

Oh, how she wished she had.

Luckily, Jonny wasn't the kind of man who liked to stay home which eased the ache of the ever-present thorn in her side. Whatever money he did have, he spent out on the town—the town being New Orleans. Like Evie, Jonny had been born and raised in the Big Apple, the noise and the chaos was part of him. As such, he hadn't taken to the quiet suburban life Bridge City offered as well as Evie. She liked the quiet, easy flow of the sleepy town. Her housemate loathed his new home. He thrived in disarray, thus, he found a group of like-minded young men to run amok with in the neighboring metropolis every chance he got.

If Jonny had been any sort of amicable company, the notion of him leaving most every night to wreak havoc several miles away would have been upsetting. Thankfully, his penchant for city life meant a good portion of Evie's days were spent out from under Jonny's tyranny. The hours he was gone were blissful and calm, and she relished in them. Whether she was creating art or tending to chores around the old house, Evie didn't care as long as Jonny wasn't there—never mind how lonely the routine often was.

Evie had never gotten the chance to meet Jonny's maternal grandmother, though she suspected she would have liked to. Unlike her grandson, she seemed like any other sweet elderly woman judging by the furnishings she'd left behind. There were dozens of lace doilies, and table cloths with soft patterns, decretive china even, but it was the plethora of photos the old woman kept that told Evie she'd carried a kindly heart. All of them were kept in pristine albums or intricate frames; they were the only barbles that seemed to have been cleaned or dusted with any regularity which spoke of how much she must have treasured them. Evie loved those tiny trinkets and black and white memories. It didn't matter that they were not her legacy of family heirlooms to keep, she adored them anyway.

She couldn't count the number of times she'd replaced a broken frame that had fallen victim to Jonny's drunken belligerence or scrubbed tirelessly at a stain he'd left on the patterned tablecloths. It proved to be a hefty undertaking, but dwelling in the fantasies of someone else's history let her forget the grief of her own. She was willing to sacrifice a little elbow grease if it allowed her mind to roam away from the shadow that never really seemed to vanish.

For all the effort Evie put in on the interior, the cottage held little in the way of curb appeal. The porch was sunken in the middle, the paint was peeling off in chunks, and the yard was mostly weeds. Worst, however, was the screen door which squeaked so loudly, every dog in the neighborhood howled in protest every time someone crossed the threshold. The outside needed love that Evie simply didn't have the energy to lend. Despite the grit, however, the foundations were sturdy enough that she didn't worry. The cottage proved to be stronger than she looked—a feat Evie felt she had in common with the old house. And while it was a swell enough place to rest her head, it never truly felt like home. Home was somewhere safe, and as long as Jonny lived under that roof she wasn't safe. Not really.

Fortunately, Jonny wasn't home when Evie returned after her run-in with Mr. Shelton—Mer, she corrected herself with a hint of a giddy smile. Without her housemate there, her evening promised to be hopeful instead of lonely, and she wasted no time in figuring out what to make for dinner.

With her red pumps replaced by her worn-in slippers and her blue checkered apron secured around her waist, she set a pot of water to boil and dialed the phone conveniently located in the kitchen. Every evening she called her sister-in-law to pass the time and keep up on unimportant gossip back home; this time, however, Evie was excited to finally have some good news to share.

"You got the job, didn't you?" Cynthia Clarke asked on the other end, sounding hopeful. "I knew you would."

Evie grinned, still amazed how the sound of Cyn's voice always seemed to settle some of the ever-present anxieties buzzing in her head. She missed her friend so much.

"I didn't even say yes."

"Did you or did you not get the job?" Cynthia pressed.

"I did," Evie confirmed and her smile grew hearing her friend cheer on the other end of the phone.

"See! I knew it." Cynthia said. "My gut feeling is always right."

Evie rolled her eyes and shook her head fondly.

"I think I'm gonna like working there too, so that's good." she mused as she stood at the stove, eyeing the pot of water she’d set to boil.

"That's so great, Ev. I'm so proud of you." Cynthia paused before continuing. "So, what are you up to tonight? Avoiding Jonny?"

"Sorta," Evie nodded even though she knew her friend wouldn't see.

As she continued to watch her cooking pot of water she told Cynthia all about her trouble with Jonny's car and the man who'd been so kind to help her.

"Wait. You invited the stranger over who fixed the car?" Concern was heavy in Cyn's voice, and Evie half expected a lecture to follow.

Despite knowing each other since childhood, Cynthia had taken on the role of her protector since Evie's family was no longer in the picture. The war had claimed Evie's father, and brother—although they'd never found her brother, Jimmy after he disappeared behind enemy lines. Evie never lost hope that Jimmy would one day be found, Cynthia though, was certain her husband was never coming home. After Cyn’s brother, Charlie, died at Normandy Cynthia had difficulty believing anyone was going to make it home. As for Evie's mother, losing a child and her husband to the war was too much for her tender heart and she passed not long after. Ever since, Cynthia was overcome with the need to act as Evie's guardian.

"He wouldn't let me pay him," Evie explained. "So I'm making him dinner—it seemed like the least I could do."

"I suppose…." Cynthia didn't sound convinced, if anything she sounded slightly irritated there was no quick way for her to argue the logic. "Just be careful, Evie. You don't know this guy—he could be another Jonny Doyle. Or worse."

"He's not," Evie said quickly. She wanted nothing more than to tell her friend all about how benevolent Mer was, but she decided against it. Cynthia would only argue that point somehow.

A long pause followed, and Evie wedged the receiver between her ear and shoulder so her hands were free to work on the meal.

"So, what are you cooking?" This time, there was a hint of jest in her friend's tone when she spoke.

The art of cooking was one creative outlet that Evie struggled with, second only to music. In her youth, her mother did all the cooking—it was a passion of her mother's—thus Evie had done little more than watch in wonder as her mother whipped up meal after meal effortlessly. Breakfast she the meal she was probably best at, apple pies too, but anything beyond that Evie required a step by step guide to prepare. And even then she lacked confidence. Thankfully, when she'd fled south, she remembered to grab her mother's cookbook. It was a cumbersome tome with yellowed pages and notes scribbled into the margins: a piece of art itself cultivated over years of collecting recipe after recipe starting the moment her mother stepped off the boat that brought her from Ireland. And like a witch and her spellbook, Evie depended on it.

"Spaghetti with garlic bread," Evie admitted feeling as though the meal lacked a certain something.

Pasta was something she knew held a low degree of difficulty when it came to preparing. Surely she couldn't mess up pasta.

“Mmm, I can almost smell it,” Cynthia said.

“Shut up.”

“No, seriously,” Cyn replied. “You’re mom’s spaghetti recipe was always my favorite.”

A doleful smile pulled at the corners of her lips, thinking back to her mother happily cooking in the kitchen as she sang a Celtic tune. It seemed strange that those moments would never again play out, instead they’d become bittersweet memories Evie could only relive in her mind.

“Mine too,” she murmured, suddenly missing her family.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, and Evie’s mind roamed the dregs of her grief before blinking back into reality and the hope of something happy to come.

“I need to go, Cyn,” Evie told her friend with a sigh. “I don’t want to burn the garlic bread.”

Cynthia chuckled and said her goodbye, only after making Evie promise to call her in the morning to let her know how everything went.

With her second hand restored after hanging up, Evelyn reached for her mother’s cookbook to give the steps another look over to ensure she had done everything and added every herb and ingredient she was supposed to. She’d followed everything perfectly, even factoring in the little notes scribbled into the margins left there by her mother—those she smiled at fondly and traced the fading ink with her fingers. Everything was as it should be. Even so, without a taste, Evie knew the sauce she had prepared would never be as savory as what her mother made so effortlessly.

“You were the artist in the kitchen, Ma,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll stick to paper and canvas.”

For the smallest of a moment Evie thought she would hear the warmth of her mother’s laugh, and when it never came she sighed again, trying not to dwell on the shadows behind her. What mattered was the light ahead.

Despite her lack of confidence, the meal came together without any severe hiccups. The noodles were not overcooked, the sauce was a complementing mix of savory and sweet (though, as she had guessed after a tiny taste, was not nearly as good as her mother's) and the garlic bread was nicely golden. A small tingle of pride manifested in the form of a surprised, but satisfied, smile as she surveyed the dinner before her.

“Not bad, Ev,” she told herself, knowing her mother would have been delighted.

With the cooking done, Evie threw a glance over her shoulder to the clock mounted on the wall, triggering a surge of anxiety to bubble in her gut. Stranger, perhaps, was the amount of excitement coursing through her veins. It was as though all of her happiness was riding on whether or not she would see Merriell again. None of it made sense; the man was little more than a stranger. The coupling of nerves and delight was not a feeling that put her ill at ease, however. She trusted it. And it was that peculiar sensation that seemed to fuel her movements.

With a few minutes to spare, Evie wandered into the small bathroom to freshen up. She made sure her hair was still pinned the way she liked—up and pretty. Her make-up was holding up nicely despite the heat; all she needed was a fresh layer of lipstick to complete the illusion of a put-together young lady. It wasn't often she wore a dress with heels and a face of cosmetics—she liked to when the opportunity arose, but she was just as comfortable in a pair of old overalls and smudges of charcoal on her face.

Just as she wiggled back into her red pumps—discarding her worn-in house slippers with a couple of calculated kicks—a knock on the door signaled Merriells arrival. Immediately a grin curled onto Evie's lips and her heart began to pound an anxious-excited rhythm. A blush threatened to color her cheeks to give away the torrid muscle beating in her chest—her ever yearning heart already making leaps and bounds for a man she had known for mere hours.

Don't be ridiculous—she warned herself taking in a deep breath to curb the eagerness coursing in her veins. Untying her apron, she tossed it along with her discarded slippers and went to answer the door, taking one last deep breath to steady the fervor in her heart.

Merriell had changed and showered. The sweet bouquet of his shampoo coupled invitingly with the musk of the aftershave he'd chosen, making it difficult for Evie to keep from soaking in the scent he carried. His curls were still somewhat damp—too much moisture in the air to keep the heat from drying them on his way over—though they fought to spring back into their previous fluff. The grease-covered, jeans he'd been wearing had been replaced by a nice pair of tan slacks, and the buttoned shirt he wore was a soft shade of green that made his eyes glitter a deeper emerald as he stood under the glow of the porch light. All Evie could do was stare—utterly beguiled—every rational thought in her head lost to her.

Mer smirked, amused by her ogling. "Hiya."

Evie blinked, coming back to reality, suddenly feeling foolish, and uttered a nervous "hi" before swinging her arm to invite him inside.

"Come in."

Merriell's smile grew as he crossed the threshold, inhaling deeply. "Mm, smells tasty in here."

He gently forced a bottle into her hands as he passed on his way to investigate the savory smells in the kitchen.

"I wasn' sho what ya was makin', but I figured wine usually goes with anythin'."

"Oh, thank you." Evie glanced at the label, unable to read the French words printed there. "You didn't have to bring anything."

"I know," Mer shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets. "I just wanted to make a good impression."

There was something almost boyish when he smiled then—cheeks coloring pink ever-so-slightly—that made him even more of a mystery. One Evie was eager to solve.

"Well," she said placing the bottle on the kitchen table. "It should go perfectly with dinner."

His expression lost a hint of its boyish charm as it grew into a look of delight.

"Make yourself at home," Evie gestured vaguely between the table and the sofa in the living room as she ventured to the cabinet where the stemware was kept.

She placed two crystal glasses on the table along with the wine and retraced her steps to fetch some of the nicer china Jonny's grandmother had kept. Mer watched her, his gaze, gentle and attentive, and a little bit yearning as she methodically sat the table.

"Need help with anythin'?" he asked finally.

"Nope," She replied with a smile. "Everything is almost ready."

The hearty red sauce on the stove was beginning to boil again which told her it was hot enough to serve, and Evie eyed the pot with scrutiny, praying silently her attempt at cooking would go over well.

"I'll pour us a glass then," Mer announced.

"Great, lemme…" Evie spun to fish for the corkscrew in the drawer of misfit utensils, finding it, only to turn to see Merriell holding his lighter against the neck of the dark bottle just below the cork.

Before she could ask, a loud pop sounded, causing her to jump as the cork went flying.

"Oh my goodness!" she laughed, a little surprised, a little impressed. "Where did you learn to do that?"

Mer shrugged, a sly expression on his features, and left her question unanswered.

"How much ya want?" He held the open bottle over the top of her glass, waiting patiently.

"Enough," she said, tossing him a coy smirk without really meaning to.

He bit his lower lip as he smiled, chuckling under his breath when he poured a generous glass of red wine for each of them. She thanked him as he took his seat and grabbed his plate to dish out their dinner.

"How much pasta would you like?"

Mer's face lit with charm and mischief as he turned to face her.

"Enough," he grinned.

The expression on his face was playful, his smirk devious and amused by his own response and his cheekiness settled warmly in Evie's stomach. Not only did she revel in it, but she also played into his whimsy and scooped as much spaghetti into his plate as she could before coupling it with the savory sauce and a slice of bread.

Despite being only strangers, the atmosphere that bloomed that evening was not marked by any hint of bashfulness, instead, it was relaxed and amiable. Warmth that Evie had longed to dwell in again—that unrefutable kindness she'd lost with the passing of her family—flowed uninhibited from the man sitting adjacent to her. His conversation was cautious but still jovial and genuine. It was the first time since running south Evie could recall what life felt like without grief and fear weighing upon her. Merriell was a stranger, but she felt safe with him. Jonny had never made her feel that way.

"So," Evie spoke as she twirled the last bit of pasta with her fork. "What is it you do, Mr. Shelton?"

Mer cast her a look of disapproval—no doubt in retaliation to being addressed so formally—before his features softened back into a neutral, yet somehow still amused side smirk.

"Nothin' too excitin'," he stated vaguely. "The odd jobs are what I like ta do the most—like fixin' ya car this aftah noon."

Without really meaning to, Evie leaned forward, resting her elbow and chin on the table, utterly enchanted by the beautiful stranger at her table.

"You like to get your hands dirty, huh? Fixing things?" she was entirely too intrigued with the thought of what he could do with his hands.

He shrugged, suddenly modest after a foray of playfully arrogant smirks and glances. It made him abruptly twice as charming.

"I've always had a knack for it, I guess." Merriell finished the food on his plate with the help of his remaining garlic bread to mop up the sauce still left on his dish.

"What about you?" he asked after chewing. "Ya workin' anywhere?"

All at once, a proud smile lit up Evie's face. After all the excitement of seeing Merriell again, she'd almost forgotten about her good news.

"Actually, I just got a job today—the general store downtown, Southern Comfort."

Mer's face lit up too, "Birdie's place?"

"Yeah, you know it?" Of course, he knows it! She thought, Bridge City's population was slightly less than the number of people who lived in a single district back home in New York. Everyone knew everyone else.

"Sho do—I was practically raised there…ole Birdie's like a second mothah to me."

"Really?" Evie found a great deal of comfort in that notion. In fact the more she thought on it, the more she realized how similar the old woman and Mer were; they radiated the same magnetism and sincerity.

"Mmhm," he nodded, his eyes focusing elsewhere as the veil of memories danced across the contours of his features. "My mama used ta work there…once upon a time…"

"Does she still work there?"

Merriell's face lost a hit of its levity and he swallowed as though to fight off the onslaught of sudden emotion threatening to cast a shadow onto his expression.

"No…" he said softly. "She—uh—she died, about a year ago."

Shit!

Abruptly, sick knots twisted into Evie's stomach, feeling callous, but understanding of the quiet misery he hid under layers of charm and arrogance.

"Merriell, I'm…I'm sorry—I didn't mean…"

He met her eyes and cast her a quick smile—doleful, but enough to ease the awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"It's okay," he reassured her, reaching for his glass of wine and taking a good gulp before changing the subject. "Birdie's great—you'll enjoy workin' for her."

"I hope so…" Evie said softly, still too embarrassed to meet Mer's glance longer than a second or two.

For the first time all night the atmosphere they shared felt cumbersome—perhaps more melancholy—than she'd wanted it to get. Evie sat, worrying her bottom lip, her fingers toying with a loose thread in the table cloth as she stole quick glances through her lashes in Mer's direction.

He was nursing the alcohol in his glass with the same sadness she'd caught plaguing him as he sat at the bar hours ago. And while Evie was eager to know if his grief stemmed only from the loss of his mother, or perhaps more, Merriell was still too much of a stranger to warrant such questions. It didn't matter how easy it was to be near him, she had not earned the right to know his narrative.

A soft sigh broke past her lips as she fought to find a way to properly allay the gloom that was quickly ruining an otherwise wonderful evening. It wasn't until her eyes found their desert sitting on the counter, waiting to save the day, that she perked up.

"Got any room for apple pie?" Evie asked with a hesitant smile. She hoped he wanted to stay long enough to have a slice, though she would not have blamed him for wanting to leave.

Immediately Mer perked up too, the shadows on his features retreating with the promise of something sweet.

"I was countin' on it—seems as how you promised a slice earlier," he said with a boyish grin.

When she stood, he did too, helping clear away their dinner plates, and letting them soak in the sink to be washed later. Evie cut them each a slice of apple pie and the delight on Mer’s face made her smile too seeing him lick his lips as his grin continued to grow. Catching that flash of his tongue was like a bolt of hot lightning striking her without warning; a blush rose so quickly on her cheeks Evie had to look away to keep the blunder a secret. Thankfully, the pie was more than enough to hold Merriell’s attention away from her.

“Mmmm… Almost looks too good to eat,” he said ogling the desert in front of him.

When Evie chanced a look his way, the expression on his face caused her to chuckle, “‘oughta be, I made one for my pa every year for his birthday since I was nine. It’s probably the only thing I have any confidence in making in the kitchen.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Mer quipped as he loaded his fork with as much pie as he could.

The moment he took a bite, his brows creased, and eyes closed as he chewed painfully slow. Those few seconds were like agony. Evie’s heart was pounding in her chest with so much anticipation she feared she might faint as she watched him sample the only thing she could actually make that was worth a damn.

“Fuck me, if that ain’t the best apple pie I’ve evah had the pleasure of tasting.”

A somewhat nervous, but relieved chuckle sounded in the back of Evelyn’s throat as she watched Merriell shovel a larger bite of pie into his mouth.

“Mmm… Yep. God damn delightful.”

“Stop,” Evie said sheepishly, suddenly afraid he was overselling his reaction to keep from hurting her feelings.

“No,” he wiped his mouth and leaned across the table to meet her gaze with a sincere expression that stole away all the doubt writhing in her stomach.

“I mean it. If I wasn’t so full of pasta, I’d eat that whole damn pie right now.”

“Well,” Evie grinned softly, trying not to let her blush color her cheeks too obviously. “Thank you. And you’re welcome to take the rest of it when you go.”

Excitement took form on his face with a smirk that was sweet but roguish all at once—a sort of debonair charm that amplified his magnetism—as if his bright eyes dark curls and razor-sharp jaw did not make him alluring enough already. Again she had to look away knowing the pink in her cheeks would be too strong to combat.

“Imma have ta take ya up on that offah. An’ I’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout you every time I cut me a slice.”

That blush was unstoppable; her heart was suddenly so smitten, it felt as though butterflies were fluttering merrily in her stomach. She felt weightless with warmth and hope swelling in her bosom, fearing any slight breeze would carry her off. It was ridiculous how at ease Evie felt sitting there eating pie with a complete stranger. The conversation had been easy all night; even when it had delved into less savory topics he still made her feel comfortable. Evelyn had forgotten what it was like to be in the company of a man who wasn’t easy to anger, who was genuine and kind and wanted only to live in the moment.

For a time the whimsy of the atmosphere faded as the warmth in her heart ached, suddenly missing her brother James and Cynthia's brother Charlie. Both of them were good men, kind and genuine—like Merriell—but they had been swallowed by the rages of war. Brave young men were lost forever, while a man like Jonny Doyle was still alive How was that fair?

No matter how pleasant her thoughts could be, they always fell back to the grief that plagued her. She sighed, deeply, pushing those intrusive memories back into the depths of her mind so she could find joy once more in the moment with a kind stranger.

When Merrill finished his plate he made a beeline for the sink full of soaking dishes.

“Oh, no,” she said jumping to her feet. “I can do those.”

Merriell, however, shook his head. “Uh-uh, you did the cookin’, I can do the cleanin’.”

When Evie tried to argue, Mer simply shook his head, his grin amused but determined as he kept scrubbing the dirty dishes.

“Let me help at least,” she suggested. “I’ll dry and put them away.”

Before he could protest, she snatched the freshly rinsed dish from his hand and began wiping away the droplets of water clinging to the porcelain surface, throwing him a smug smirk that made him chuckle.

“Alright,“ he smirked.

She watched him for a moment not really paying attention to her task as he scrubbed the old plates clean, overcome with a blissful vision of peaceful domesticity. It made her stomach fill to the brim with whimsy and her heart was fluttering again; had this stranger bewitched her already? Or did what she feel bubbling lightly in her gut like a seltzer stem from an end to her loneliness—even if it was only for a few hours? Evelyn didn’t know. Nevertheless, she was intrigued with a profound feeling and she wanted to dwell in it for as long as she could.

Occasionally as he would hand a freshly washed dish her way, his calloused fingertips would brush against her skin, igniting a spark she didn’t know how to react to. It was more than an amicable tingle racing from the tips of her fingers right to her heart. And each time they touched, Merriell would cast her a gentle smile that held nothing more than his inherent charm and magnetism. She wondered if he felt it too, or if her need for companionship was playing a dirty trick on her.

When the dishes were all back in their usual places—the night drawing to a close—Evelyn realized she was not ready to say farewell to her Beautiful Stranger. She longed to stay up all night just chatting with him, she did not care about what, Evelyn only wanted to stay encompassed a while longer in the blissful warmth he brought into her life. Once he was gone, all she would be able to do was stay up and ponder the significance of those little touches and the sparks they brought.

Thankfully, Merriell lingered on the old rickety porch, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto his plate of leftover pie, seeming to stall their inevitable departure.

“Well,” he said with a grin. “Thank you for invitin’ a stranger ovah for dinna.” He paused, glancing at the leftover pie in his hand. “Can’t recall ever having a better plate of pasta, an’ nothin’ evah gonna beat this pie.”

Evie quickly looked at her feet to hide another blush.

“It was the least I could do,” she told him before looking back to meet his eyes. “You have no idea how much of a savior you were this afternoon…”

A glint of concern flashed in his eye, his brows beginning to crease as his unspoken question lingered between them.

She thought about telling him—telling him how Jonny was nothing more than a throne in her side, and how much she cherished Merriells company—but Mer was still a stranger. It wasn’t right to unload so much onto someone she’d only known for a few hours.

Before Mer could offer any reply, the sound of screeching tires stole all their focus as an old wagon pulled along the curb—narrowly missing a collision with the mailbox. The rowdy passengers were laughing and shouting loud enough even before the door opened to let Jonny stumble out. He staggered on drunk feet and screamed a handful of profanities to his buddies in the car which made them all roar with laughter.

It was only after the wagon full of hooligans pulled away that Jonny began to stagger towards the house, and it was exactly then that Evie’s fluttering heart became consumed with panic.

She and Mer watched him cross the yard, unseen, both frozen: Evie in fear and Merriell in confusion. Jonny’s intoxication level inhibited him from taking notice of them until he was at the base of the steps leading onto the porch. Immediately, his eyes narrowed and he frowned.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Jonny, this is Mr. Merriell Shelton,” Evie said quickly, willing her voice not to shake.

The Doyle’s were not known for their hospitality, nor were they known to trust most people. Especially strangers.

“He helped me this afternoon with a bit of trouble I was having,” she explained vaguely, hoping to thwart any more suspicion. “I made him dinner to say thank you—he’s just about to leave.”

Jonny eyed Merriell, seizing him up as best he could through drunken lenses. Mer stood his ground, eyeing him back with a subtle intensity that never so much as cracked under Jonny’s scrutiny.

Finally, being the better man, Mer held out his hand in a friendly manner, “nice ta meet ya.”

Jonny cast a prolonged glare at Merriell's open hand, his brows furrowed and part of his lip hiked up in a sort of snarl. Instead of returning the kind gesture, Jonny made a show of spitting at his feet before tossing his heavy leer at Evelyn.

"Evie, do not invite any more strangers into my house. I don't care if they are dying." He shoved past them both, purposely bumping Mer's shoulder (most likely in hopes to start something) muttering as he went: "I don't trust any of these filthy southerners."

Shock sent Evie's jaw slack; this time the redness in her cheeks was a symptom of embarrassment instead of infatuation. She should have known Jonny would say something rude and uncouth. Without another thought, she grabbed Mer by his sleeve and pulled him across the lawn until they stood next to his truck parked along the curb.

"I am so sorry about him," she said, crossing her arms and glaring at Jonny's house, ashamed and angry.

Mer shrugged as he placed his partially eaten pie in the passenger seat through the open window before fixing his hands in his front pockets.

"Ya boyfriend's a bit of an asshole."

"He is not my boyfriend," Evie corrected vehemently. "I don't think he knows that though. I'm just staying here until I can figure some things out."

Merriell was quiet a moment, nodding silently. It seemed as though he was taking his time processing the whole situation. There was compassion on his face and behind his eyes, but it was guarded somehow. Evie caught it though and she was grateful when he didn't ask the questions plainly forming in his mind.

"Well," he said finally, his tone light as one corner of his mouth quirked into a grin. "Since he ain't ya othah half, I feel more inclined ta leave ya with this…"

Gently, Merriell caressed her upper arm as he leaned forward to plant a tender kiss on her cheek. He let his lips linger slightly longer than was common for such an act, that all at once wove a new hopefulness into her heart.

"Dinna was swell," he added as he pulled away, his smile somehow more charming than it had been all night. "Hope I see ya again, Evie."

"Me too," she murmured.

Evie watched as he got in his truck to leave, her hand held to the cheek he'd graced with his kiss. And when he drove away, it took everything inside of her to keep from running after him.

#Beautiful Stranger Series #Merriell Shelton x Original Character #Merriell Shelton #Snafu Shelton #HBO War #The Pacific #The Pacific Fanfiction #Rami Malek Fanfiction

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knockknockchicagopd · 4 years

Text

❛ THE GOOD DOCTOR ❜

❚❙ SUMMARY: Ask your father to not worry about you, if you dare.

❚❙ CHRISTOPHER HERRMANN MASTERLIST.

❚❙ WORDS: about 750.

❚❙ A/N: I have strong daddy feels for Chris since ever, and this short idea came to me on one of those kinds of days where I need a hug. I just hope you enjoy this fluffy moment. Daughter!reader. This writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted.

❚❙ GIF credits: to @chicagofireadventures.

❚❙ General tag list: @melblacc @rebelwrites @skyofficialxx @sesamepancakes @scarletsoldierrr @mondefantastique @that-chick212 @enbyamaro @inlovewith3 @ocetevasgirl @destynelseclipsa @miahelen @jadakiss13 @mcgreads @graniairish @teller258316 @i-love-scott-mccall @tclaerh. If you wanna be added to my tag list, send me a message!

“Watcha' doin', kid?”

You can't help but jump slightly on your seat when your father's high-pitched voice interrupts your concentration, not expecting a visit from him in the Chicago Medical library. With a hand on your chest trying to calm yourself, you turn at him, frowning somewhat upset. He sits on the nearest chair shrugging his shoulders and drawing a guilty grimace because of the scare.

“Something happened? Is everyone okay?” You ask confused, lowering the screen of your laptop, until you notice the plastic bag hanging from his right hand.

“This is what you do now, uh? Lie to me? To your dad?”

“I didn't li—”.

“Not again, kiddo. Maggie called me. She said everything you ate today was two bags of chips and a chocolate bar!” Shaking his head as he snorts and rubs the bridge of his nose, your father places the bag on an empty space over the desk. “I understand you have too much to study, that you're on the final exams period, but… how are you gonna be a good doctor, if you don't know the importance of food?”

“Dad, I really have zero time to lose it in the cafeteria or cooking”.

“Mom can cook for you! I can do it too! I can send the candidate with what we prepare in the firehouse, or anything with Uber eats! You have no excuses”.

As your father points out every option trying to not raise his tone of voice, you can feel the bothering growing inside him. You can't be contrary to what he's saying because he's right; you have been so focused on your exams that you haven't taken care of what you eat. You understand he is worried for you, that's why you don't say a single word when he puts your laptop and notes away to empty the bag on the desk. A tupper with pasta and chicken salad, a banana, an energy bar with chocolate chips, a small bag of almonds, and an orange juice.

Even if you wouldn't be hungry, you would be seeing this dinner right in front of your eyes. You can't hide the adoring grim that, inevitably, is drawn in your face. Watching him opening the container and spearing some pasta with a fork, you tilt your head with curiosity.

“I'm not leaving till you eat it all. So… do it by yourself or I'll treat you like the kid you are still”.

It doesn't matter how old you are, nor if you don't live in his house anymore, nor if you are an independent woman; you will be his little girl forever. He can't be a day without hearing your voice, without checking if you need something, without seeing you. Parents don't have a favorite child, but you are his. Every time you remember how much he cried when you told him about renting a flat with your best friend, you cry too.

Without a fuss, you grab the fork to bring it to your mouth and start eating. And as you are finishing the dish he has prepared for you, your father looks more relaxed and less preoccupied. He also looks satisfied because he's aware of the amazing cooker he is and how much you enjoy it. Because, yes, it's a pasta salad; but you need to find the perfect boiling time and obtain the perfect texture. He also knows how you like chicken, roast in its juice, and seasoned with a little rosemary. Then, he mixed both ingredients with tomato diced, corn, and some olive oil.

“Thank you, dad”. You sigh feeling your stomach full to the limits, cleaning your lips with a napkin. “I… really needed it”.

“Bet you study better now”.

“I'm sure”.

“Okay, gotta go back to the firehouse. I'll call you in a few hours to don't fall asleep and be on time for your exam”. Leaning on his chair, your father places a hand on your neck to leave a kiss on your forehead.

“I love you, dad”.

“And I love you, my little girl. I know sometimes I worry too much, but it's only because I want the best for you”.

“I know… I'd never change that from you”.

You watch him leaving the library, taking a sip from the juice he has prepared for you before continuing studying. Without any doubt, your father is the best in the world.

#lemme know what you think in a comment! ⚡#i really love it #chicago fire x reader #chicago fire imagine #chicago fire #christopher herrmann imagine #christopher herrmann x reader #christopher herrmann

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managedmischiefs · 4 years

Text

BAD DAY//MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

word count: 3k

warnings: body image issues

before we get into the writing i just wanted to say that i’m not, in any way, criticizing mgg’s body in this fic. it is never my intention to make others feel bad about their bodies. i have plenty of experience w that and it feels awful. if anyone has a problem w this fic then please let me know. thank u.

i collapse onto the couch after a long day of cleaning the house, blasting music and dancing around while i have time alone. the house has been in need of a serious cleaning and when i woke up this morning with the energy to be productive, i didn't let it go to waste. the dishes were washed, all the laundry washed and folded and put away, rugs vacuumed, trash put on the curb, bathrooms scrubbed down, and mirrors cleaned of scuffs. and by dinner time, i've finished and feeling accomplished.

matthew has been away at work all day and was only able to spare me one text around lunchtime to tell me that he might be later than usual. i responded with a text that was far sweeter than it needed to be, professing my love multiple times and adding a slew of cute emojis. days that run long typically mean bad days, and bad days mean a very upset boyfriend. that never ends well.

when matthew doesn't arrive home by six, i send him a text to let him know that i'm going to order chinese food for the both of us, and that he can eat when he returns home. i get nothing in return.

i watch tv while i wait for the food to arrive and only half pay attention to whatever is on the tv. my only thoughts are of my boyfriend and how horribly his day must be going. the food arrives and i put it away for later so that neither of us have to eat alone. i take my place on the couch again and wait anxiously for the door to open.

surely enough, the front door swings open and matthew comes stomping in. i hear his backpack hit the floor and then his keys following, and then the door slams closed. he doesn't come into the living room where he know i always am when he gets home, and instead goes rushing up the stairs and presumably to the bedroom. surely enough, the door slams shut a second later.

a heavy sigh falls from my mouth. i shut the tv off and go to pick up the things he had thrown onto the ground. i give matthew a moment alone to collect his thoughts and once i've tucked away his keys and hung up his backpack, i make my way up the stairs and to our bedroom.

i knock on the door softly before entering, my heart breaking at the sight before me. matthew is sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, arms trembling and shoulders shaking. i can hear him sniffling softly, fighting back tears. he looks so helpless and so broken and in the five years that we've been together, i don't think i've ever seen him like this after a day at work.

i close the door gently behind me, and when the door clicks, i see matthew flinch slightly. "hi, sweetheart," i whisper, walking a few steps closer. "can i do something for you? can i help?" matthew hesitates with his answer, sniffling before nodding a tiny bit. "yeah? okay, what can i do?" i move to sit next to him now, a few inches away. i know he won't give me an answer when he's in this state, but sometimes, just asking helps. so i just sit and wait with him as he fights off his tears.

"you can cry, you know?" i whisper. "you can cry if you need to. don't hold it in." matthew shoulders start to shake even more, his hands sliding up and into his hair. he tugs on the strands, letting out a strangled sob for the first time. my heart absolutely breaks, and i reach forward to place a hand on his back, stroking up and down the fabric of his tee shirt. "baby, i'm here right. it's okay. you're okay."

he reaches his hand back and clutches my hand, tugging on it, but not lifting his head. i scoot closer, but as soon as our legs are touching, matthew's other hand starts pulling at my thigh, trying to get me even closer. so i move to stand in between his legs, pulling his hands out of his hair so he won't give himself a headache.

and once his hands are away from his hair, he grabs my waist and pulls me right into his lap, tucking his face into my neck. this is the time that he finally lets himself go, sobbing into my shoulder and holding my waist as tight as he possibly can.

"oh, my love," i coo, brushing my fingers through his hair and running my fingers up and down his spine, "i've got you. i've got you. just let it out. i love you so much."

he hiccups and trembles as he cries, and cries, and cries. i rock him back and forth just slightly, hoping the movement will bring him some sort of comfort and tranquility. and i'm not sure how long we just sit like that, holding each other as i whisper sweet nothings into matthew's ear. but eventually, his cries slow down and he's just shaking in my arms, clutching my sweater.

"can you look at me, baby? it's okay, i've got you," he lifts his head slowly, staring at me with bloodshot eyes and wet cheeks, pretty lips pouting and nose scrunching up as he sniffles. but i give him a smile, raising my hands to wipe the tears off his cheeks and brush his hair off his forehead. "hi, my love."

matthew's lips quirk up in the slightest but they don't stay that way. "hi," he whispers, voice cracking.

"so do you wanna talk about it or go do something else?" i keep touching his face, wiping the new tears away and letting his nuzzle his cheek into my hand.

"something else, please." he says.

"okay, that's fine. are you hungry? do you want dinner? it's in the fridge, i can go heat it up."

"no, no, i'm not hungry." he shakes his head, turning his head to place a kiss on the palm of my hand. "i think i wanna go take a bath, if that's okay?"

"of course that's okay. you do whatever you want. do you want me to come or do you wanna be alone?" matthew just shrugs in response. "okay, well, why don't you go alone and i'll come by in a little while?"

"yeah, okay," matthew nods and slowly ushers me off his lap, dragging himself into the connected bathroom. he closes the door behind him and i hear the water running a few seconds later.

i can honestly say that i've never seen him so upset, at least not in recent times. he's had his fair share of breakdowns over the years but this feels different. he's been upset over a bad day at work or not getting a role, but i can't recall a time when he cried that much.

i go downstairs and, regardless of what matthew said, heat up the food i ordered. i know that he doesn't have time to eat on busy days and usually tears through the fridge and pantry when he gets home. he didn't do that today so i can only imagine how hungry he is.

i leave the food in the microwave so it will stay hot and then head back upstairs. i knock gently on the bathroom door, waiting for a response that i never get. "matthew?" i crack the door open just the tiniest bit but don't poke my head in. "is it okay if i come in for a few minutes?"

i hear the water sloshing around before he hums. "mhm."

i enter the hot bathroom and close the door behind me. matthew's legs are pulled up to his chest, forehead resting on his knees and arms wrapped protectively around himself. i sit down beside the tub and reach over to run my fingers through his damp hair.

"sweet boy," i coo softly, "i know you said you don't wanna talk about what's making you upset, but i think it'll help. i don't wanna force you, but i wanna help you feel better." he leans into my touch when i trail my fingers down his cheek, almost purring like a cat.

"m'dizzy," matthew murmurs so quietly i barely even hear him.

i furrow my eyebrows at him, cocking my head to the side. "you're dizzy? from the heat in here?" i jump up and open the bathroom door so some of the heat can travel out. "did you drink enough water? have you eaten enough today?"

matthew shakes his head no, sniffling yet again. "no."

"no," i repeat, defeated. "well, i heated up the chinese i ordered and i left it downstairs. so maybe you can jump out of the bath and come eat and you'll feel better? sound good?"

i stand and hold matthew's towel out for him as he slowly climbs out of the bathtub. i watch him carefully, making sure his dizziness doesn't overcome him. not that i could do anything like catch him if he fainted. he’s too tall and i’m too short. i pull the plug on the drain and usher matthew back into the bedroom.

i watch in careful silence as he pulls on pajama pants and an oversized sweatshirt, scrunching up his nose in the most adorable way. and once he's dressed, he turns to me with his shoulders hunched forward, almost like he's waiting for me to tell him what to do and where to go. i've been doing it since he walked in the door so i suppose he's too far gone that he needs me to continue.

i give him a small smile and grab onto his hand, leading him down to the kitchen. i point to a barstool in a silence instruction to take a seat, and retrieve our food from the microwave.

"so," i state as i sit down and dig into my fried rice, "i finished the next chapter of my book today! it's not the best writing i've done so i'm gonna do extensive editing on it, but at least it's done. i've been stuck on this chapter for weeks and i'm just relieved that i can move on."

"i'm sure what you've already written is amazing," he half heartedly, stabbing a piece of chicken before pushing it off his fork again.

i keep talking about my writing process, and observe him as he plays with his food and doesn't eat anything at all. i've finished my food in ten minutes and matthew hasn't eaten anything. he responds every now and then with short sentences or one word answers, and doesn't lift his head much.

i throw out my containers and fill up a glass with water and ice, placing it beside matthew's hand. i sit on the barstool beside him, facing him instead of forward. "you haven't eaten anything, sweet boy. you need to eat. did you eat anything today?" matthew ducks his head even further down and shakes his head no. i resist my urge to sigh. "okay, can you tell me why? i made breakfast for both of us and i thought you ate."

"no," he shakes his head again. "i don't- i just don't wanna eat."

he's never acted like this before and it's truly heartbreaking. he doesn't seem like the man i feel in love with and he's even a completely different man from the different man he is when he's upset. this is a new version of my boyfriend that i hope makes a one time appearance.

matthew takes a long breath and pushes around his rice before starting to speak. "last week, on set, i had a fitting for outfits for the episode we filmed today. and the kevlar vest that i've been using for years didn't fit. it was too small. so i," he hesitates, and then tilts his head a little towards me. i instantly bring my hair up to his wet hair and start scratching his scalp, "i just, well, this past week i just decided to eat less and hope that i could fit into the vest today. but it didn't work. it was still too small and it looked absolutely horrible. i looked horrible. ugly."

and yet again, my heart breaks for him. i've never really heard of matthew having issues with his body, except for the off comment that he didn't look good in an outfit or that it didn't flatter him. nothing to this extent. but i've had my fair share of body image issues over the years and matthew has always been quick to remind me that i'm stunning, regardless of whether i'm wearing an extra small or a large.

"i'm sorry you feel this way, love," i drag my hand back to the nape of his neck and play with the short hair there. "and i know exactly how it feels to not fit into clothes that you used to fit into. but you've helped me realize that we don't keep the same body every year. our bodies change as we get older. remember that red dress you really liked on me? it doesn't fit me anymore because i'm not as skinny as i was when we met. but i got a new one that suits me better. it's okay for your body to change and there's nothing wrong with it. you're beautiful no matter what, or handsome, if you'd prefer that."

matthew nods, wiping his cheeks when he finally lifts his head. "i just looked so bad today."

"i'm sure you didn't. i always tell you that i look horrible in outfits you think i look good in. everyone is always really hard on themselves and that's natural."

he drops his head again and let's go of his fork, letting out a heavy sigh and resting his hands in his lap. but i stand, moving his hand away and sitting down on his lap, placing my hands right on his ribs. "when you filmed season twelve, you started to work out more. remember?"

matthew nods. "yeah, of course. what does that have to do with anything?"

"you thought that you would put on weight in muscle, and that's exactly what happened. your shoulders got broader, your thighs got thicker. and you know what?" i lean forward until our noses are touching. i manage to get a tiny smile out of him when i give him an eskimo kiss, our noses rubbing together. "i absolutely loved your body before and after you started working out. you know how much i love your thighs. they're sexy, baby. i know that me telling you things like this doesn't really help but i love your body, no matter what it looks like. what your body looks like doesn't define you."

"really?" he gives me the most adorable puppy eyes. "you like my, you know, my body?"

"i love your body, matthew," i move my hands down from his ribs to his stomach, slipping them under his sweatshirt and placing them on his bare skin. "i love everything about you." matthew lets his head fall forward and presses his forehead into my shoulder as i let my hand continue to roam his skin. "i'm not gonna force you to eat if you really don't want to, but i don't want you to starve yourself either. so i'm gonna go, okay? i'm gonna go sit in bed and you can either eat or not and not feel pressured by me staring at you, and you can join me when you're ready."

i place a kiss on matthew's nose before retracting my hands and heading back to our bedroom. part of me wants to hold him down and force him to eat all of his food and another part of me knows that letting him make his own decisions is the right choice. forcing him to eat when he feels badly about his body is the worst thing i could do. it could make him spin even further out of control and that is obviously the last thing i want.

so i curl up under the duvet on my side of the bed and flip the television on, skimming through the channels until i find some random romcom that i watched with matthew years ago. i leave that on and start scrolling through my social media.

just a few minutes later, matthew comes wandering into the room and closes the door behind him. when he walks towards the bed, i notice he's holding his pint of fried rice in his hand, and while i would normally not support eating in bed out of fear of getting the sheets dirty, i make an exception for this.

he gives me a weak smile as he climbs in beside me, instantly tangling his legs with me. i roll over and rest my head on his chest, bringing my arm around his stomach, resting my hand in his sweatshirt pocket. i try my hardest to ignore it as matthew scoops rice into his mouth slowly. i can tell it's a little bit of a chore for him to be eating, but nonetheless, i'm proud of him for doing it, even if he only eats a few pieces of rice.

"we watched this movie a long time ago. one of our first dates, right?" matthew mumbles.

"mhm," i nod against his chest, "we watched this in your house in the living room and ate pizza and complained about the acting."

"i love you," matthew randomly confesses, leaning down to press his lips to my forehead. "thank you. i don't know what i'd do without you."

"well, you'll never have to find out because you're stuck with me," i quip, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "and i love you too. a whole lot. and i love your tummy too. i think i might love your tum more than i love you. no offense."

#matthew gray gubler #matthew gubler #mgg #gublernation #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler fic #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler one shot #matthew grab gubler x oc #spencer reid #dr spencer reid

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punkrockmads · 3 years

Text

Miller Crackheads

Summary: I have no words. This is for @joel-motherfucking-miller

Joel sighs, leaning back into the couch and tossing his backpack to the floor. He closes his eyes, rubbing his face with his hands. Another long day. He's barely had any time off duty, constantly helping the many people of Jackson by picking up any assignments he can. Patrol, farming, armory, you name it. He's always been the "work till you drop" kind of guy. His wife comes downstairs wearing one of his flannels and her favorite pair of jeans.

"Looks like you had a fun day." She jokes. Joel's eyes snap open as he jumps, not realizing she had come into the living room.

"Jesus christ, Tess." He breathes, giving her his best 'I hate you but I love you' glare. Tess grins, moving to sit next to Joel. The two hug, enjoying the relaxing, quiet moment. That's when Joel realizes something's missing. "Where's Madelyn?" Usually their daughter comes running down the stairs to greet him every afternoon when he gets home. She has almost every day for seventeen years.

"Upstairs sleeping." Tess answers. "She had a rough day."

"What happened?" Joel asks, his worry growing and spreading like a fire in his gut.

"I think she just really misses you. That and she didn't get a lot of sleep last night. Nightmares again." Tess explains, pushing some of Joel's hair back. "You need a haircut."

"It's all turnin' grey anyways." Joel chuckles. "Might as well just let it do it's thing." He stands up, taking Tess' hand and kissing her knuckles lightly. "I'm gonna go check on her." He sighs. Tess nods, reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table.

"I'll see if I can find a movie for us to watch." She says as he walks up the stairs.

"Alright." Joel calls back. He knocks lightly on Madelyn's door to see if she's awake. When he gets no response, he slowly opens the door, poking his head in. Madelyn lays curled up in her bed, surrounded by stuffed animals and balled up blankets. Her arms are wrapped around her torso, knees pulled up to her chest, hair that she never brushes splayed out in every direction. Creepy Bird by Ladylike Lily plays from the little speaker Joel had helped her fix up for her fifteenth birthday. He recognizes the song immediately; one of her favorites.

Joel sits down on the end of her bed as the song changes. Honeybee by Steam Powered Giraffe, another one of her favorites. She must be listening to the playlist Ellie made for her during their weekly sibling bonding time. Her breathing is steady, she's calm for the first time in what probably feels like forever. She's a hard worker just like her father. Months of working nonstop have finally caused her to shut down. Joel sighs, feeling slightly guilty for not spending much time with her lately. Too much has been going on, putting a wedge in their usually close bond. He reaches over to grab the slightly shattered cellphone Madelyn uses to play music. He turns the music off before gently setting the cellphone back on the night table. No need to leave it on and waste the battery.

Joel puts a hand on Madelyn's shoulder, remembering when she was tiny enough to fit in his hands. He wishes he could go back in time to when she was so little and carefree. Back when she'd run into his arms as soon as he returned to their rugged old apartment from his assignments in Boston. When she'd sass him and argue with him in her little baby language that sounded like absolute nonsense. He'd always let her win those arguments. He wishes she'd stay his tiny little jellybean forever. But she's growing up faster than he'd like to admit.

He remembers when she used to hit him with the old pool noodle Tess had found for her. He remembers constantly hearing her teeny tiny feet racing through the apartment as fast as they could go. She used to have so much energy. The stress of life stole that from her as it does to most at some point in their lives.

It stole her energy, stole her childish dreams of princesses in huge castles and mermaids in magical oceans and dragons up in the clouds, it even stole her hopes of a future free of infected. The things she's seen. The things she's done. Joel's had his fair share of trauma and it's something he lives with daily. He can't imagine how tough it must be for a child. He's just glad the world hasn't crushed her free spirit. Or her wild and chaotic energy. Or the way she seems to shine wherever she goes. The world could never crush her soul.

Joel never thought he'd be here. Married to the most incredible woman in the world, two daughters, one all grown up with a kid of her own. He never thought he'd survive more than a year and now he can't imagine living any other way. He tucks a lock of Madelyn's hair behind her ear. She takes a deep breath, her eyes slowly opening. She looks at her father with tired eyes.

"Can we have chicken nuggets for dinner?" She mumbles almost incoherently, stretching her arms out in front of her.

"What?" Joel chuckles. "I just got home and this is how you greet me?" He grins at his daughter as she sits up, rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands. He wraps his arms around her, resting his chin on top of her head.

"Nooooooo!" Madelyn groans. "Get your scratchy beard off meeeeee!" Despite her complaining, she hugs back, falling limp in Joel's arms.

"What is with you people and making fun of my hair today?" Joel laughs. "You're too much like your mother."

"Nah. Mom doesn't spray Tommy with a spray bottle every time he rambles about matchbox cars." Madelyn grins.

"You're so mean to him." Joel says.

"It's just how we bond." Madelyn says. Her eyes close. "I missed you." She sighs.

"I missed you too, kiddo." Joel says, holding her tighter. "I'm gonna take a few days off so I can spend time with you and mom. How's that sound?" Madelyn moves to look up at him.

"Really?"

"Yeah." Joel nods. "I could use a break anyways." Madelyn crawls out of his arms, slipping off the bed and onto the floor. "Jesus christ." Joel laughs. She stands up, kicking away a blanket that got caught on her ankle. She runs out of the room and into the hallway.

"I'm gonna go get Ellie!" She yells from the stairs. Joel runs out when he hears a loud thud from the bottom of the stairs. He sees Madelyn laying on the last step. "I'm fine!" She assures, getting up and running out the back door. Tess walks out of the living room and looks at Joel standing there with a look of terror on his face. She laughs at him, causing him to crack a smile.

"That's your genetics right there." Joel jokes, pointing at Tess. She glares at him, reaching to take off her shoe. Joel realizes what she's about to do just as she aims it at him. "Oh no."

Here's the lovely chaos family;

First photo is obviously mine

If you know the owners of the Joel and Tess photos please let me know! All credit where credit is due!

#the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou2 #ellie williams #tlou #ellie tlou #joel miller #joel tlou #tess tlou #oc character

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

Text

❛ ABOUT TRUE LOVE ❜

Headcanon.

with Angel Reyes.

Request: Hey babe. What about a HC of the different ways Angel shows you he loves you? Something soft and fluffy ❤

BY @chibsytelford

Warnings: none.

Word count: about 1k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: @angels-reyes

Masterlist.

Angel is proud of being your boyfriend. He shows it anywhere, at any time.

He usually kisses you in public, mostly at clubhouse parties, so you don't feel bothered by Vicki's girls who try to call his attention.

“Hey, mi dulce”.

Standing up from the pool table, holding the stick with your left hand, he grabs your chin with his ringed fingers placing the other five at the back of your head. He starts to peck your lips once and again with loud kisses, until everybody around you is aware about what he is doing.

“Man, you need to stop, seriously”. Gilly laughs, making you draw a smile on your face, because you don't want him to stop.

“I… love… you… mi… reina”. He chuckles between kisses, before spanking your ass.

Whenever he can, he surprises you at work when your turn is already finished, not having to walk your way back home.

Honking the horn like a child, biting his bottom lip so focused on his task to make you look at him, you roll your eyes, sighing before saying goodbye to your mates. Walking towards him crossing your arms, your eyes get fixed on the darkest ones.

“Having fun, five years old?”

“Pretty much”. He nods energetically, smirking and swinging his legs back and forth. “Ready to go home?”

“With you?”

“Yeah, I'm the one who was single when you walked around”.

“Well… I will have to be content with that Mayan, I guess…” You whisper leaning over him to kiss his lips.

He has learned to cook for you, preparing your lunch every morning before leaving your house to the clubhouse.

“What is that?” You ask holding the tupper with a green note on it. “Eat me at lunch, eat Angel at dinner”.

A loud laugh escapes from your mouth, turning at your boyfriend, who is wearing his kutte too proud of his new skills.

“I asked Chuckie to teach me. And pops said it was good, so…” He says pursing his lips, surprised yet for his father's words.

“Aw, Angel”. You pout at him, leaving the container over the desk, to jump into him and wrap his waist with your legs. “You're the best man in the world”.

“Right? People should see me like you do”.

“Nah, I don't want them all to fall in love with you. You're only mine, mi angelito”.

Taking care of you if you are sick.

Tucking you in bed, he puts under your tongue the thermometer, caressing your head over the pillow. He knows you got a cold for walking under the rain, on your way to the clubhouse to surprise him. You came so soaked, that he had to give you some of his clothes to change yours. Angel has already called your boss to tell him that you're not going to work tomorrow.

“I will heat up pops' soup, okay? Don't move”.

“Angel, I'm fine…” You mumble with a low tone, making him twist his neck with an incredulous gesture.

“You're not”. He claims. “We're going to have dinner in bed, watching ‘The lady and the tramp’. And I'm gonna text Prez to ask for a day off”.

“An—”.

“Do you wan'me to cover your mouth with tape?” He frowns.

“I won't eat the soup then…”

“You're a pain in the ass, querida”.

“But you love me”.

“More than anything”.

When he is on a run, for more than one night out, he hides himself when everybody is sleeping to call you. It's supposed that he's not allowed to do it, but he doesn't give a fuck.

“Hey, mami, thirty seconds. I'm safe, I'm okay, I miss you and I love you”.

“Bishop is going to kill you if he finds out”.

“Fifteen seconds left”.

“I'm wearing your shirt and probably I'm gonna imagine that my hand is yours. Bye, mi amor”.

Hanging up laughing, you would love to see his face looking at the screen of his phone.

Bonus of you showing him how much you love him, when he needs it the most.

He's not used to crying, but he's human and he has a heart, at the end of the day. You know by EZ that they argued about some club shit that ended up talking about family issues, and this time, your brother-in-law wasn't right. Holding Angel tightly between your arms, his tears wet your shirt. Your legs are tangled with his, gently caressing his nape and kissing his head. You didn't ask when he came back home being a mess of feelings and bad memories, just hugging him and making him lie down on the sofa.

“I will always love you, Angel. Unconditionally”. You whisper into his ear, before cupping his face in your hands to kiss his lips once and again, trying to make him feel somewhat better.

“I fucking hate my family”. He says enraged, being aware of the predilection that his father has for EZ. “I fucking hate them both”.

You know that maybe it's a perfect moment to give him the news you have been hiding from him for some days, until finding a good moment to tell him about.

“At least, you will not commit his mistakes”.

Raising up his blurry gaze to you, pulling himself away some inches, he looks at you confused. There's no more cry.

“With our family, I mean”. You add then with a fleeting smile plowing through your lips.

“Are you… Are we…?”

“Having a baby, papi”.

“Fuck, no”. Angel says about to cry again, shaking his head.

“Fuck, yes”. You laugh seeing the gesture on his face.

“A baby…” He just says, letting his tears fall down again kissing you with so much energy.

“Your baby. Our baby”.

✨ Tag list:

@starrynite7114 @chibsytelford @dazzledamazon @mara-mpou @sammskellington @gemini0410 @1-800-imagines @briana-mishell24 @sassymox @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba @destynelseclipsa @sheeshgivemeabreak @abbiesthings @knowles-morgan @lady-pswrld @minnicelli @marquelapage @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @jadesamhart @mycupoffanfiction @claytoncardenasbabymama @thesandbeneathmytoes @phoenixhalliwell @thewarriorprincessxo @sugary-x-sweet @multiyfandomgirl40 @imanerdychubbyqueen @iambabyharry @firebenderwolf @itsanofrommesir @noz4a2 @peaches007 @edonaspanca @irenne-stans @skyofficialxx @that-chick212

If you want to be tagged, send me a message!

#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader

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blueeyedheizer · 4 years

Text

sound of metal - matt

WARNING: might contain some triggering topics (talks of surgery, hearing loss)

A/N: this movie was so beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time I had to write something based on it. (excuse the crappy ending) If you haven't seen sound of metal...go watch it nowww

•••

Matt had been acting strange lately. Wether it was during sound check or while you were performing in front of a crowd, he seemed off and completely out of it everytime you shot a glance his way.

Today wasn't any different and you were starting to grow seriously worried. You and your band were performing in front of your biggest crowd yet; the band was getting more and more recognition and people were quick to spread the word about your small tour. It even got to the point where people would take pictures with you and buy your merch after the show. Quite frankly, everything was going well and it was a dream come true.

But when you looked at Matt, it seemed like he wasn't handling things as well as you did. At first, you thought that it might only be stage fright. You weren't really used to such big venues, and it would've made sense that he feels some kind of discomfort in front of an important audience. Yet he never spoke to any of you about it, and you knew he would've at least told you if that was the case.

So when you looked over your shoulder in the middle of the fourth song and caught sight of him you immediately sensed that once again, something wasn't right. He looked almost terrified, you could tell his breathing was heavy and that it wasn't just because of the drums. You tried to contain your worry and focus on your singing, but you kept a mental note to talk to him after the show. You couldn't just sit there and keep pretending everything was alright when he was clearly hiding something from you.

But before you even had the time to move on from your thoughts Matt suddenly stormed out of the stage, his drumsticks falling to the floor while he pushed a few people on his way out. Your heart pounded hard against your chest as you were hit with a wave of anxiety, then with a small apology to the crowd and a worried glance at your bandmates you followed him.

Within seconds you were bursting through the back doors, running after him.

"Matt! Matthew, what the hell?" you called, running to his side. He was bent down, hands resting on his knees as he panted hard. You placed your hands on his shoulders and he eventually stood up straight before leaning against the fence. "Baby, what's wrong?" you placed your hands on his cheeks, your thumbs stroking his skin as your eyes searched for his.

"I can't hear anything." he admitted, voice cracking.

"What?"

"I can't hear anything."

You just picked at your food, not hungry due to how anxious you felt. You could barely register anything else than the sound of your heartbeat, the sounds of muffled talking, plates and glasses clinking from the restaurant being completely drowned out by your nagging thoughts.

"What are we gonna do?" James eventually spoke up.

"I don't know James. I really don't know." you put your fork down and buried your face in your hands, finally letting a few tears slip. You leg was bouncing repeatedly, heart beating a million miles a minute. After taking a deep breath, you grabbed the pen and paper that were in front of you and wrote something down.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" you slid the paper across the table so that Matt could read it. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I didn't want you to worry about it. It's nothing. It'll come back eventually." he said, but you were far from satisfied with his answer. You squeezed your eyes shut.

"What did the doctor say?" once again, you slid the paper across the table.

"There's a surgery. An implant. It's— it's expensive but I'll get it."

"Y/N, there's no way he'll be able to afford it." James whispered. You glanced at him and nodded, knowing damn well you'd never be able to earn so much money in such a short amount of time. You were just a small band, earning a salary worth of such surgery would take an excessive amount of work and time. Noticing the worried look on everyone's face, Matt broke the silence and grabbed your hand.

"Look— we'll play tomorrow and see how it's like. It'll come back. It's fine baby, my hearing's not completely gone. okay? I can do it." Matt said, and you shook your head.

"No."

"We have a tour booked."

"Matt, it's not safe." you tried to reason with him as more tears welled in your eyes.

"We have a tour booked, Y/N, I'll just deal with it, I can do it!"

"No, Matt. We can't." you removed your hand from his hold.

"It'll come back!"

"For God's sakes Matt, it's not safe!" you finally raised your voice, fist colliding with the table as you flopped back against your seat. Your bandmates flinched and some waitresses and customers turned to you, thinking a fight had broke out. You apologized quietly, not even loud enough for any of them to hear before grabbing the pen.

"We're not finishing the tour. You can barely hear a word we're saying. We're not finishing it." you put the pen down and got up, gathering your things before turning to James and Alex. "I'll call the manager and see what we can do."

And with that, you left the dinner without a word.

Fortunately, your manager was very understanding of the situation and helped you with everything you needed. He got you in contact with a friend of his who ran a small community in which Matt would be able to attend meetings and learn sign language.

You called the man immediately after finishing the call with your manager, wanting to get this done as soon as possible. You were hit with a wave of relief when he told you he would be more than willing to welcome Matt, as long as he complied with the rules that were imposed there. But getting Matt to understand that this wasn't just a small hearing loss and that he needed help was another story.

"I'm not going, Y/N. God, it— it doesn't even bother me that much! I can still play!" he said and you shook your head, lowering it afterwards. You had never seen him so agitated, and no matter how hard he tried to convince you that he was okay, you could see right through him. His hearing loss was in fact bothering him, he just wouldn't admit it. "Baby I know our songs by heart, we could just—"

"Matt, stop. Just stop." you interrupted him. Tears were beginning to form in your eyes and it was getting harder to hold them back. He scoffed, burying his hands in his hair.

"Matt. Please. Just look at me." you placed your index finger under his chin, forcing him to look at you. "The most important thing right now is to preserve the hearing you have left. Okay?" your hand slid to his cheek, wiping a tear before pecking his lips. "I love you so much, baby. And that's why I'm not leaving you the choice. We're cancelling the tour, and you're going to let these people take care of you." you told him, making sure to speak clearly.

-time skip-

Those 6 months spent away from him were hard. The members of the community he was in all lived in one house together with no contact to the outside world - which meant no phones allowed. It was a rule that you had agreed on committing to, but you hadn't anticipated how awfully long these months would actually be. Performing without him was something you couldn't get used to. You had found a new drummer for the time he was gone, but it was different. You were so used to Matt's energy, his way of playing, and the boy was nothing like him. He was really nice and Alex and James seemed to get along well with him, but this band wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for Matt, therefore performing his songs without him felt wrong.

You had no idea what the future was going to look like, wether it was regarding the band or your relationship. You had no idea how Matt was doing. For all you knew he could be at his lowest point and you weren't there for him. Or maybe he was having an amazing time, and you couldn't shut off this nagging voice in the back of your head that kept telling you he might've met someone new.

You were walking home from work, looking forward to leave this long day behind you and get some well deserved rest. You greeted your dad and was about to make your way to your room, but his voice stopped you in your tracks before you could leave.

"Y'a Matt qui t'attends dans ta chambre." (Matt's waiting for you in your room.)

"Quoi?" (What?)

"Il est arrivé y'a une heure ou deux. Je lui ait dit de rester là en attendant que t'arrives." (He arrived about an hour or two ago. I told him to stay there and wait for you.)

You tried to contain your excitement in front of him, but your heart felt like it was about to burst inside your chest.

"Okay, cool. Merci."

With that, you left the kitchen and made your way upstairs hurriedly, heart beating faster with every step you took.

Finally, you opened the door to your room and your eyes immediately caught Matt's figure. He was sitting on your bed, a book in hands as he waited for you. You stayed at the door for a small instant, grinning warmly as he looked up, allowing you to finally make eye contact.

"Hi. Can you hear me?"

Matt set the book down and nodded, then you walked over to him, standing between his legs. You cupped his face and caressed his cheeks with your thumbs, taking in all of him. His hair was a bit longer than the last time you had seen him.

"I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too."

You leaned in and pressed your lips together for the first time in five months, your hands sliding to the back of his head as the kiss deepened. You pulled away after a little less than a minute, catching your breath.

"What are you doing here? How— how did you afford it?" you asked a bit awkwardly, referring to his surgery as you noticed the implants on his ear.

"I had to sell my stuff." he shugged. "Guitars, synth, my car. Anything I could find, really." he chuckled sadly, lowering his head. Your face dropped at his words and a small silence settled in the room before he broke it with the smallest voice. "I'm sorry."

"Hey...there's nothing to apologise for." you said, lifting his chin up to peck his lips once again. He shook his head, refusing to make eye contact with you as tears welled up in his eyes. Then he climbed further up the bed silently, his back now resting against the headboard. You followed, situating yourself next to him.

"I ruined everything. The tour, the band, us." Everything."

"You didn't ruin anything. You couldn't control what happened, Matt. You know that." you tried to comfort him, scratching the back of his head with your fingertips. He scoffed a bit at your answer, still avoiding eye-contact.

"I can't get back to drumming, Y/N. I can never go back to how my life was before."

There was a pause before he finally dared to look at you. His eyes were red from holding back tears, cheeks streaked and flushed, the sight causing your face to visibly soften. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Instead you looked down, fidgeting with the ring on your index finger and the room went silent. You knew things would never be the same, but you still took the news like a bullet. A couple more seconds passed and you took a small breath before climbing onto his lap gently.

A bitter, sad smile curved on your lips as you looked at him, hands cupping both sides of his head, gently rubbing your thumbs and occasionally wiping a few tears from his cheeks while you fought with great difficulty to hold yours in. First you kissed his forehead then you rested yours against it, noses brushing.

"I love you." you whispered, closing your eyes as you felt a tear escape and roll down your cheek. "I love you so much."

You pulled away just a bit and signed "I love you" to him in sign language to emphasise your words. He signed it back to you and you wrapped your arms around him, cradling his head against your chest as you mumbled comforting words, your hands rubbing his back and hair soothingly as you cried silently.

#blueeyeddean #matt

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