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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

I just love your Steve writings and I'm absolute obsessed with the way you write. I have a little request if you don't mind? We all know Steve wants his six little nuggets but what if reader can't have children? I never saw someone write something like it and I think you would write it perfectly. The story and how they communicate about this is totally in your hands but I would just LOVE to read a happy ending.

AN | Please, this is such a sensitive but soft concept. He would be the best about it, fullstop. It has a happy ending 🥺

Warnings | Language, Mentions of infertility

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.2k

Masterlist | Steve, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I…you - what?” your eyes grew wide as you looked between Steve and the small velveteen box in his hand. Your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest as you anxiously fidgeted with your hands. Steve grew confused - and worried - as he looked at you in worried anticipation.

“Will you marry me?” he repeated his question as you still struggled to process what he was asking. It was such a simple question but it held an immense amount of weight. You could feel the eyes of almost all the other patrons in the restaurant’s outside patio on the two of you. Expectant and waiting…and you had no clue what to say.

Well, no - that wasn’t exactly true. You knew what you wanted to say, which was yes. A thousand times yes. But you couldn’t do it…you couldn’t say yes.

“I…I can’t,” you whispered softly, wishing you could look anywhere but his face. But all you could see was him, “no.”

“W-what?” he let out a nervous chuckle, cheeks pinking and eyes wide. Surely he couldn’t have heard you correctly, “what did you say?”

“No,” you repeated softly, tears already welling up and threatening to run down your cheeks, “n-no. I can’t.”

“Oh,” the look on his face was the worst thing you’d ever seen. It was heartbroken and upset multiplied by a thousand times.

“Steve - I…I’m so sorry,” you almost jumped up from your chair as you stood up and grabbed your back, “I can’t do this - I’m so, so sorry.”

“Wait, don’t just go. Angel-”

“I’m sorry,” it was the last thing you managed to choke out and the last thing he heard.

Steve walked you go, acutely aware that everyone’s eyes were on him. And his marriage proposal was rejected - which he never thought would happen.

He swallowed the lump that had welled up in his throat and sat back down in his chair. The ring box was snapped shut and quickly stuffed back into his pocket. Tears burned the backs of his eyes as he tried to keep it together enough to at least pay the bill.

“Sir?” a young waiter came over and offered him an apologetic look. Steve couldn’t even bring him to say anything, “it’s on the house tonight. I’m sorry about what happened. Hopefully things will be okay.”

“Thanks,” the bit of kindness caused the last of his walls to come down and he felt the tears run down his cheeks, “me too.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You spent the next couple of days absolutely wallowing in self-pity, regret, and anger. It all had to do with yourself too; it wasn’t Steve’s fault at all. It was yours and yet he was the one suffering. You’d contemplated calling him so many times, the phone halfway to your ear but you stopped yourself every time.

Steve too was keeping his distance; it seemed so out of character for him. That’s how you knew that you had royally fucked up. If your golden retriever, sunshine boyfriend was avoiding you, there was a definite problem.

After almost five days, you couldn’t handle it anymore. There wasn’t even anyone to blame but yourself. You were positive that all of your friends would hate you too - if you were in their position, you probably would have hated yourself too.

You had to give yourself a major pep talk in order to drag yourself out of your apartment and over to Steve’s house. Once you spotted his car in the driveway, you parked your car in the street and stayed in there for about fifteen minutes before dragging yourself to the door.

You knocked on the door, the key to his place that was on your keyring burning a hole in your pocket. It didn’t feel right to let yourself into his place without permission. You rocked and forth on yourself as you waited to hear the gait of his familiar footsteps.

When you did actually hear them, you grew nervous and contemplated running away again. But it was too late because you’d already been cowardly enough. The door opened slowly and you were met with a very tired and surprised looking Steve. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before blinking owlishly at you.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, and to your surprise his tone was void of any anger or malice. A wave of emotion washed over you, and you had the urge to wrap him up in a tight hug.

“I…I umm,” you closed your eyes and waved a hand around, silently willing it to somehow give you all the answers, “I wanted to apologize…to talk. But if you don’t want to, I understand if you don't want to. I don't know if I really deserve it."

"Y-yeah," he almost choked on the single word as he nodded before opening the front door. You hesitantly made your way inside; it usually felt just like home but today it didn't.

You trailed after him to the living room, sitting down on the couch as he sat down opposite you. A tense silence fell over the two of you for a few moments before you ended up clearing your throat.

“Umm-”

“So-”

The two of you spoke at the same time before you nervously exchanged a chuckle. You leaned back and exhaled slowly as he motioned for you to go.

“First of all,” you allowed yourself to meet his eyes; there was nothing but gentle curiosity behind them. Of course he wasn’t furious…he had too good of a heart, “I want to apologize. I know that doesn’t solve a single thing or make anything right, but I definitely owe you a giant apology.”

“It’s…’s okay,” his lips pulled into a thin line, clearly mulling over his thoughts, “it hurt a whole…like a lot a lot, but I figured you had your reasons.”

“Yeah,” if only you could turn back time and change everything, “it was just a big surprise and I didn’t know how to handle it. But I shouldn’t have run away from you like that. It wasn’t right.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he confessed sheepishly. He wanted to give you a huge surprise and gave you the most romantic proposal…but that was quickly shut down. Admittedly, Steve had wanted to be mad and angry but he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything of the sort to you, “we’ve been together for a couple of years so I just thought that it was the right time.”

“I know,” you couldn’t help the smile that crossed your features, “it’s been the best two years of my life…all because of you.”

“So why…what happened?” his brows furrowed as he tried to put two and two together. If it had been so good, why didn't you want to marry him? He was sure that it would be the two of you together forever. You knew you had to tell him…it was going to have to come out at some point so you might as well get it all out now, “you don’t want to marry me?”

“No, Stevie…I do,” you whispered, throat already thick with tears, “I do. You’re the only person I could ever see marrying.”

“But you…said no.”

“Steve…” you inhaled and exhaled shakily, “I should have told you this sooner…I just panicked. I thought that somehow it would work itself out but I see now that it never will. So I figured that I couldn’t marry you after all.”

“Angel, what are you talking about?”

“I can’t have children, Steve,” getting it all out in the open felt like a rush of relief and also like the weight of the world was on your shoulders, “and I’m so sorry for not telling you that before. I-I know you’ve always wanted kids, and I just…I was so selfish for never saying anything. I just didn’t want to let you go. I wanted to be with you because I love you so much; I’ve never felt anything like I do with you before. But if we stay together, we can’t have kids, and you deserve to have them. You’re going to be the best dad ever.”

He’d scooted over to the couch you were on while you were somewhere between rambling and crying, studying you intently. He hesitantly reached for your hand, holding it tightly in his when you slowly offered your hand to him, “how long have you known?”

“A long time,” you whispered, “before we started dating. I just didn’t want to lose you.”

“Why would you lose me?” he tilted his head to the side like a puppy as you blinked in surprise.

“Because you want children and I…can’t give you children,” you stated as though it was so obvious, “why would you want to be with me?”

“I’m in love with you,” and that might have been your favorite thing in the entire world to hear, “and I love you so much. There’s no one else I’d ever want to be with.”

“But-”

“But nothing,” he smiled gently, “nothing will ever change that. And if you think I wouldn’t wnat to be with you because of that - you must not know me very well.”

“Stevie-”

“I want you,” he promised, “and yes, I want children, but just because you can’t carry them, doesn’t mean we can’t have the family we want, angel. There are so many ways for us to have our own family.”

“I…you…” tears had rolled down your cheeks now and Steve tenderly wiped them away, “are you sure? You’d still want me?”

“I don’t want anyone but you,” he brushed his knuckles along your cheek, “no matter what. Why on earth would I not want to be with you over that? It’s something that you can’t even control. There’s so many ways for us to have the family we want. They don’t have to be biologically ours to be our children. Family is what we make it, yeah? Look at our family now.”

Steve was saying the exact opposite of what you had expected, but everything you wanted to hear. He was right, after all, your current family was found but that didn’t mean the love you shared wasn’t real.

“Are you sure?” you asked softly, “you won’t change your mind in a few years and hate me?”

“I could never, ever hate you,” he insisted and you knew in your heart that he was telling the truth, “I am so in love with you, and nothing is going to change. The only thing I wish I could change was how worried you were to tell me. I’m sorry if I ever did anything to make you feel like I could ever love you any less.”

“It was me,” you shrugged slightly, “I’d convinced myself a long time ago that no one would ever want to be with me because of that. But with you…I should have known better. You’ve never given me a single reason to doubt you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Don’t apologize,” he insisted softly, gently tugging you towards him. You obliged without a second thought and let him pull you into his lap, “I’m glad you were able to tell me now. I love you, okay? Nothing is going to change that.”

“But I…I was awful to you,” you pouted and Steve couldn’t stop himself from peppering kisses to your cheeks and forehead, “and I just…I left you. How could you still love me?”

“Because you’re still you and I’m still me,” he grinned, “and last time I checked we’re still in love. And I’m hoping that maybe you’d still agree to marry me one day?”

You gasped audibly which caused the boy to laugh softly. Your brows furrowed in surprise as you looked at me curiously, “you still want to marry me? Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” he insisted and you almost melted into a puddle, “but only if you want to.”

“Yes,” you looped your arms around his neck and clung onto him tightly before burying your face into his chest, “there’s nothing I want more. Of course, I-I really want to marry you, Stevie.”

“Good,” you felt his chest rumble with his relieved laugh, “that settles that. We’re going to get married. And, when we’re ready, we’re going to have the family we want. Deal?”

“Deal,” you pulled back and looked at him with misty eyes; you could see that he was trying to hold back his own tears, “I love you, Steve. So, so much.”

“I love you, angel. More than anything.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #joe keery #st

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harrysmimi · 2 years

Note

Okay okay soooooo this is my request. You totally do not have to but I thought it was cute. So Harry is himself and YN is a teacher at an art teacher at a school and he comes to visit them and the kids react to them being a relationship with himmmmm👀

Also I love your writing and I think you’re amazing❤️❤️

Idk about art that much. But music counts as art as well. Hope you don't mind.

Lunch Time

Synopsis: One where YN's students are shocked to see her husband (WC 1365)

More of my work

"Oh my god! Ms. YLN, Harry Styles literally has the same jumper as you!" Mary, one of YN's students exclaimed as soon as she walked in.

"Oh my— that's literally the same thing!" John, the other one from the very corner of the classroom.

YN was a highschool Music teacher, she was a big part of the art department of her school. All students loved her for some reason she never can pin point.

Today she wore one of her husband's jumper, a old brown one with green designs on the hem and the above the cuffs of the sleeves. When she originally picked it out of her husband's side of the closet she never thought it was something he wore in public where he was pictured.

She's been having symptoms of common flu lately after she visited her mum who had flu as well. Her husband being away on a tour from past six weeks. Though he's returning home later today she still felt the meed to put on one of his jumpers. They are soft, they're warm and they smell like him even though they've been washed.

She could not take few days off as she had already taken all her paid leaves to go see her husband at his Manchester shows. She needed that money to pay off her students loans.

YN never in a million years thought her students, who are bery obviously her husband's hardcore fans to recognise his clothes. It wasn't her first time wearing his clothes to work, that's all she wears om days she doesn't feel like dressing up.

"Oh thank you Mary, it's a gift." YN said. "Okay class settle down now." She began with her class her music history lessons. Taking a small five minutes break to go bring her water bottle she forgot at her office like an idiot.

Just as was about to leave her office, she got a text from her husband. He was coming home early when she told him a yesterday that she was starting to feel sick. He'd seen her be sick just once and it was just awful. He took the first flight home immediately after his show last night from France, which was very late in his opinion.

Mister⭐

- Hiya my love.

- I just landed in London

- Will bring your fave lunch today and we can go see a doctor.

- I love you so much! xx

It warmed her heart to see that. She sent him her lunch time.

- Yes, please.

- I'll ask later if I can take rest of the day off.

Mister⭐

- Yeah, do that baby.

- See you soon!

YN went back to her class but dismissed them early to move onto her next class with her headache boring holes into her skull from inside out. Again she had her students pointing out her jumper.

......................................................................

"How is Mrs. Styles doing?" Harry asked as soon as he stepped into her office with a bag of food from her favourite place, he carefully placed it on her desk.

It had been over a good six months of them getting married and he's still obsessed with her calling that name, especially since she had been so adamant about wanting to take up his last name. He's smitten like a little baby kitten.

"I took a painkiller for my headache but I think I still need to sleep on it." She explained, getting up from her chair and metting him halfway around her desk to take upto his welcoming hug.

"Yeah? We'll go home soon, okay?" He caressed her hair feeling her shake her head in agreement to him. "Gimme a kiss before we eat and I take you to go see doctor."

"I'm sick, don't want you to get sick." She lifted her head up to look at him.

"I literally won't get sick." He counter and got his kiss, smearing his lips onto her.

"We can actually go now, I already talked about taking a sick leave for the rest of the day and tomorrow." She shared.

"We can eat first, I know you skipped your breakfast." He made her sit down and eat as he talked about the shows she misses, which were all of them except for the London and Manchester shows. About the One Direction shirts someone threw at him which he brought with him, the other one he saved for her. Just as she was about say something, there was a knock on her door.

"Ms. YLN do you mind if I come in?" It was Mary, from the class earlier.

YN's head shot to look at her husband who looked completely unphased chowing down his noodles with his best chopsticks using abilities.

"What?" He shrugged.

"She's your fan!" She whispered. Having him caught off guard.

"Go on, I don't mind." Was his answer to her surprise.

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Come in, Mary." YN called but not before taking another glance at Harry.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt your lunch time, Ms. YLN, I needed help with this assignment that—" the girl with blue dyed hair was completely froze to surprise seeing someone at her professor's office she never could have expected. "Oh my god!"

Harry actually chuckled earning a glance from his wife though he had his shy kode switched on there, "What do you need help with, Mary?"

"I, uhhh... I actually forgot..." She stuttered looking back and forth between the couple, printed notes in her hands, "this, this assignment— I'll come in tomorrow."

"No it's alright, I'm taking a day off tomorrow." YN shared, "don't want your assignment to be delayed."

"Oh— okay." She gulped nervously.

YN went back to her chair behind the desk and had her students doubts cleared up. Though it took her long time to realise she probably did not get a thing.

"Email me your doubts, I'll and refer to the sites I recommended." YN said, writing down a couple of referrals for online sites. "It's okay, you can talk to him."

"Oh my god, Harry! I'm such a huge fan!" Mary bursted out pointing at her Fine Line hoodie.

"Thank you so much." Harry smiled shyly.

"Can, can I ask for a picture?" Mary asked but regretted it as soon as she spoke.

"Actually do you mind if we don't? I can write you up a note." Harry suggested instead.

"That's totally fine! Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" She freaked out.

"It's alright." Harry assured her. YN smiled and handed him a pen and her sticky note pad. Harry scribbled a sweet note for the girl and signed it for her. "Thank you."

"No, thank you so much." Mary smiled accepting the note Harry gabe her.

"Mary, please don't tell anyone just yet about this if you can." Harry spoke. "Maybe wait for a few days.

"Yeah, no I won't. I really won't." The girl was freaking out, she waved at him before leaving.

"She won't tell anyone Harry, don't worry." YN assured him getting back on her previous seat next to him.

"You think so?"

"I know so." She affirmed, "I've known her for quite a long time now. She's one of the nicest students I have."

"I'm gonna take your word on that." He smiled.

"Oh, and I got my new professor's ID today." YN reached for the ID kept on her desk face down. It had her name changed on her to Prof. YN Styles which had Harry smirking.

"Still won't be able to fathom we're actually married!" His cheek muscles ached from smiling so much in the moment seeing the ID card.

"Neither can I." She chuckled.

They'd known each other for only a year when he proposed and they got married a few months later. It wasn't rushed. But it was still surreal.

Harry was still anxious about Mary trying to post about their little interactions but she didn't. Harry never saw anything on the internet about them. He was relieved to say the least.

YN students liked her enough to not talk shit about her. Plus they needed their good grades to pass out of school.

......................................................................

Tag list:

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @sweetwritingfanficfriend @theroosterswife24 @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts @marialikescherries @japanchrry @onlyangelrain @harrysgirl-1d

Lemme know if you want to added to the tag list

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cutielights · 7 months

Note

Hey pookie!! I luv ur work sm and I was wondering if u could do a rottmnt boys x spider woman reader ab them reacting to her stopping a collider like miles did? Idek if u watched into the spider verse but maybe something like that if not u could wing it if you'd like tysm hope u have a good day/night! ❤️

>>:] yes. For the purposes of writing, im going to act as if you were a spider person for at least a year before this. Not supposed to be Miles’ story, but pretty similar (if that makes sense)

i waNT THE THIRD MOVIE. Frikin dying of miles morales deprivation over here, hand over the sunflower boy with in tact parents

@moonchhu THE OTHER SPIDER PERSON ONE TAG LIST

That Really Big Earthquake

LEO

“Heyyyy, I haven’t seen you in twenty four hours which truly is a record for us, I missed you, did you miss me? I bet you did right? Go on tell me aaaalllll about it.”

“So, I was just kinda minding my own business, y’know, thwipping and thwapping and going about being an awesome hero when I bumped into myself? Kinda. They looked like me, but they were different, and didn’t look like me, but, I knew they were me! Because my spider sense went off and they could do stuff I could do, but also some different stuff! And then we freaked out for a little bit before I went to auntie May to show her and she showed me four more other me’s who were hiding out in her basement and then we tried getting them home and we had to sneak about in this fancy restaurant wearing bow ties, and we cried and they went into this collider thing, also it turns out my favourite cousin was working for the evil genius corporation and he’s dead now and it feels like my fault, I’m so totally fine don’t worry about me. Howwasyourday?”

“Haha, what.”

“Stopped the collapsing of the multiverse.”

“Oh it sounds so simple when you put it like that.” Yeah okay sarcasm queen

Made you some tea after that, let’s just, take a breath for a minute, m’kay?

He has decided it’s a self care day now, at least he did after thoroughly checking you for injuries

How you do not have a concussion will always escape him, not one broken bone? Seriously? After all that?

Please remind him you’re an actual super hero and not a pane of glass

“Wait what was that about your cousin?”

RAPH

“Hey! How was your weekend?”

“Crazier than yours.”

“Okay, Bet.”

One explanation later sponge bob narrator voice

“Wait, so you’re telling Raph, that huge earthquake that happened, happened because of you and five alternate versions of yourself?

“That’s excluding a lot of things I just told you but, I am telling Raph that, yes.”

Huge bone crushing hugs are in order, according to him at least. And I mean, is he wrong?

Not letting you out of his sight for ages, please, Raph, let them go home

“Why are you so worried? I did it, I won!”

“It’s more the fact that it happened and less the fact that you’re mostly fine.”

DONNIE

Othello Von Ryan: Stay home, S.H.E.L.LD.O.N has picked up on some strange (possibly universal fabric destroying) activity. Also there has been some earthquake activity in the area you were in yesterday, not that I have a tracker on you. Because I don’t.

Only Two Legs: I handled it don’t worry :D

Othello Von Ryan: ?

Othello Von Ryan: Traverse to My Lab.

“Heyyy Deee.”

“Stop. Explain. This better be your attempt at humor.”

There was silence for a long while after you had messily glued together words to describe the past 24 hours, before he took a deep breath.

“First, How dare you stop the multiverse from collapsing without me that’s incredible rude. Second, therapy. Third, that earthquake and power surge destroyed My Lab, thankfully I have backup backups to my backups, but I couldn’t use the internet for an hour straight.”

“Y- You’re more concerned about the internet?”

“Not what I said. Now let me check you for a concussion.”

MIKEY

“Hey they took down those art displays.”

“The what?”

“Oh you weren’t here, BUT there was these reaaaallllyyyyy cool art statues along this street! Look, hey, look, I took pics!”

“Oh cooollluuuhhh that’s not an art display that’s five different fire hydrants merged into each other.”

“Haha yeah it does kinda look like that doesn’t it? I thought it was supposed to be a dog.”

“Mikey, no-“ You pulled him aside into an empty alleyway, trying to explain what had happened over the past twenty four hours.

It was an interesting experience, but you got there eventually.

Best believe this boy is giving you the biggest hug ever, and then buying pizza.

Oh, and Dr Feelings is going to be paying you a visit. Multiple. You can’t escape him.

“So they weren’t art displays?”

Speedily bulk writing and scheduling rn bc im going on a holiday with zero internet.

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deceptive-daydreams · 1 year

Text

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter One - Damn Mailbox

W/C: 5K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Relocating to the small town of Knife’s Edge in hopes of leaving your old life behind and starting brand new solves all of your problems, right? Wrong. It only creates more and one of them may live right next door. Side effects may include blaring music at 3AM, a scowling neighbor, and one too many shots of tequila on several occasions. (That The Bourbon will not be comping.)

A/N: I'm super excited to start this lil series, I've had this idea for a little while and I can never resist writing total opposites, it's just so fun to explore their dynamic when they want to reject each other so bad. Also a lot of this fic is inspired by Smoke Signals by Phoebe Bridgers (hence the name). As always I would love your feedback and any comments y’all have 🙂 OH and finally...the hugest largest biggest thank you to @uglypastels for beta reading and proof reading and all that good stuff, it was SO appreciated and really helped smooth things out ILY Z YOU'RE SO GOOD AT WHAT YOU DO 💜

Masterlist

Morning dew was like an old friend, someone you hadn’t paid attention to since childhood but felt so familiar with, so…safe. Maybe it was a little too ridiculous to find security in a few dew drops but arriving in a new town with a population of less than five hundred would have that effect. Twists and turns of windy roads unknown, trees larger than any house, and barely any infrastructure would all frazzle anyone not accustomed to its elements. Normally you wouldn’t get car sick but these roads were a beast you’d never encountered before in your life, stomach threatening to send back your lunch of tuna on white bread and a bag of Doritos. You refused to let bile even trace your tongue so with just enough self control, you swallowed any sickness down and pushed forward. Now you were hunched over in the driver’s seat, the door open as you sucked in the fresh mountain air, perfect lengthy blades of grass grazing the bottom of the door. Just before you, up the driveway made up of damp dirt, was home. A home you were a stranger to at the moment but hoped to at least become acquaintances with. Lower expectations created less disappointment. If you dive in head first, you can only guarantee yourself vulnerability and pain, slow and steady was the only pace.

It’s not permanent; you are just figuring things out.

It’s what you kept preaching to yourself during the altitude change, where flatter land transformed into large mountains, the tallest peaks coated in white. Where your ears popped and your brain felt pressure. And then shortly after, you were submerged deep into the forests, far from home, where you knew there was no going back for quite some time. It was a trial run although it didn’t feel that way when the moving truck packed with your life pulled up just minutes after you, delivering every piece of your life to some cabin in a secluded town that was nearly invisible on any map. Temporary was starting to feel foreign when everything felt more set in stone.

You’d think a town called ‘Knife’s Edge’ would steer you away and maybe that was the intent when it was first named; to ward off newcomers who had no business being out in the woods. But it only intrigued you. From what you could find out in a few tourism magazines, Knife’s Edge was not somewhere you went for a getaway, not according to the locals who were a tight knit community where everyone knew everyone. The economy relied on the small businesses down in The Village, on Main Street which according to your calculations was about five miles down the road and around the lake then up. That was the extent of knowledge you’d had on your new home and yes, maybe you should have gathered more information before daring to even place a down payment on some random cabin in the woods but when a new start calls, you either answer the phone or stare at it until nothing happens. The cabin was either yours if you paid the down payment or it would’ve been torn down and sold to the neighbor for more land which would’ve sent you on your way again, on a wild goose chase for a new place that you could fit into. Not that you were too sure that you’d even fit in here. But it seemed too obvious that this was where you were meant to be when the realtor advised that it was yours at a low down payment, a steal. So you’d try to make it work.

The moving truck’s door startled you, slamming against the top as two men got to work, unloading all your belongings. You figured this was your cue to exit your beat-up sedan to unlock the front door–wide-paneled and made of a beautiful dark oak. The crunch of pebbles and dirt alerted the movers to your presence where you let them know you were going to open up so they could begin their tedious process, one of them grumbling something incoherent in response. As you approached even closer, there were knicks and dents decorating the surface of the door but it seemed to add to the essence. The wooden steps creaked underneath your weight and upon glancing around the porch, you found two well built rocking chairs that the previous owner must have left behind. Other than that, there were pine needles and other debris from the surrounding nature caked in the corners, some scattered along the rest of the floor that would need to be swept up but it wasn’t an urgent task in comparison to actually setting up your bed and other necessities.

The lock was stubborn as you twisted the key but with one more persistent shove and turn, it clicked and you were able to push your way in, the hinges painfully squeaking as you made a mental note to pick up some WD40. The air inside was stale, smelling of dust and maybe a half hearted spritz of air freshener. Or maybe it was drenched in air freshener but it did little to nothing to cover up the smell of an old abandoned cabin; you weren’t sure. It was a modest size, the kitchen off to the right, tucked into the corner with a small island in the center. The living room was the first room you walked into from the front, the floorplan more open than you’d expected. A little to the left was a narrow hallway with shutter doors lining both sides, you assumed one side had to be the laundry. The door at the end had to be the bedroom and the door just before you embark into the hall had to be the bathroom but you had no time to explore right now.

Morning light trickled in through the kitchen window just above the stove, creating a beautiful hue against the wood paneling of the walls which you only noticed as you came back in, setting a box that was labeled ‘kitchen’ on the counter before rushing back out to retrieve more of your belongings. It was too early to be doing such strenuous work but that's what you get for securing a slot with the moving company first thing in the morning. In hindsight, you didn’t realize you were signing yourself up to meet said moving truck at 6:00 AM but in your defense, you’d never done this before.

By 7:00 AM the truck was fully unloaded and on its way out and with it went the grumpy movers, more than likely unsatisfied with the fact that they’d have to trek back down the mountain. You graciously offered them an extra twenty bucks which they gladly took but still appeared crabby nonetheless. Now for the part you had been dreading the most: unpacking each box and putting everything in its respective place. But first, you wanted to take it all in. You were right; the laundry was on the left side of the hall behind the shutter door and on the other side was a closet. The bedroom was settled right where you had guessed, at the end of the hall and rather than being empty, it now held your bed and mattress, sheets still yet to be found among the boxes labeled ‘bedroom’ in thick sharpie. The wallpaper was something you could do without but maybe you’d find time to peel it off later and replace it with something more to your taste. Currently the bedroom walls were lined with floral designs and pale blue stripes and if you could be honest, the design was a bit too busy for your liking. But it was a roof over your head for a good price so complaining was out of the equation.

At the opposite end of the hall, just off the living room was the bathroom, sporting a less off putting wallpaper of faded yellow and white vertical stripes. You first ensured your hygiene essentials were in place, toothbrush and toothpaste in a glass on the sink, towels on the rack, and soaps set up in the shower including shampoo, conditioner, and bar of Dove. Having these accessible was a priority, cleanliness being one of the most important factors of your daily routine.

Clothes were next and you’d forgotten a box in your trunk of your most worn items of clothing that you could pick through until you were fully settled. Lazily carrying yourself back to the driveway where your maroon sedan sat on top of the copper-toned dirt, you do a double take when you realize your mailbox was taken out, wood splintering out of the ground as the poor box lays among the grass at the edge of the street. From what you could remember, it was fully intact when you first drove up so you’re forced to conclude that the movers you’d tipped generously must have run it over and not given it a second thought.

The half of the mailbox that rested on the ground was a lot heavier than it looked and you would’ve thought it was made of cement just by the weight. You felt pathetic dragging it up the driveway, creating a prominent line in the dirt along the way. A brief break in getting the damn thing up to your porch has you about half way up the driveway, glancing around at your surroundings, only to finally take into account that you had a neighbor relatively close by, a cabin similar to yours only a few hundred yards away except it was a darker wood and a red pickup sat idle in front of it.

You braced yourself, catching your breath to continue hauling the mailbox back until you can figure out how to repair it when your eyes catch on figure, a man making his way down the steps of the cabin you’d just been analyzing. And you’re quick to shy away until you realize he’d already been looking at you, a cocky grin on his face as he slowly, almost tauntingly stepped off his porch. The way he walked closer reminded you of a lion declaring its territory, especially with the mane of curls he had, shaggy and brunette. He wasn’t close enough to allow you to examine any further; however, you caught the click of his tongue before he spoke.

“Gonna get splinters draggin’ wood around like that.”

It’s all he says, a toothpick between his teeth before he turns on his heel, combat boot digging into the soil and it’s only then that you realize he wasn’t offering assistance, he was simply picking up the hose connected to his spigot to rinse off his windshield which now that he’d drawn attention to it, was filthy with mud and leaves. He wore a red and black flannel which reminded you of a lumberjack but this man just didn’t fit that description based on your short interaction with him. Or rather his interaction with you. Your first indication was that he had no facial hair; he was clean-shaven. And his tight jeans that had black rips at the knees didn’t seem very suitable for a job that required a larger range of motion.

Without any further acknowledgement of your existence, he hopped in his truck and sped off around the bend without a care in the world. He was a resident douchebag and you’d never even spoken a word to him. You quickly realized you were still stood in the middle of the driveway with half a mailbox, grunting in protest as you lugged it the rest of the way up to the porch, leaning it against the railing for future contemplation on how to repair it or if you’d have to fork up money for a brand new one. That was a problem for future you and though future you would be pissed at past you for putting the responsibility on her, you had other things to sort out such as unpacking the rest of the kitchen so you’d be able to actually use it to feed yourself. And then of course you’d have to make your way into town a ways down the road to actually get groceries because not a crumb of anything edible was packed. Aside from a bag of Chex Mix that sat in the passenger seat of your car that you’d picked up at a gas station.

–

Going overboard was an understatement when it came to how much you’d actually gotten done. By 12:00 PM you almost had each room unpacked and put away, moving boxes discarded next to the front door to be thrown out later. Your plan was to finish off the kitchen and then go into town. Instead you finished the kitchen and moved from room to room with more motivation than you’d ever experienced in your life. Maybe it was the adrenaline of living alone, no one else could tell you what to do or where to put things. It was all up to you and maybe you were a little drunk off that power. Regardless, you were now worn out and that energy didn’t last very long. At least you had a freshly made bed for when you came back, that’s what you would reward yourself with.

If you go grocery shopping then you can come back and nap.

There were still various projects to be done, items to be organized, and objects without a home but for the most part, you could sleep peacefully with the work you’d done today. The floors were yet to be cleaned and the fridge still needed a good scrub down but that could wait until tonight after you properly refueled.

Humming to some song you’d heard on the radio earlier, you make your way out the door, patting your pockets for your keys and wallet, both of which you had before locking up and heading for the car. You rolled your eyes passing the mutilated mailbox, settling into the driver’s seat with an ache in your back from the grueling labor in the early hours of the morning. Shifting into drive and then rapidly back to park, you remember that these roads are foreign to you and that you could easily get lost and possibly become a bear’s lunch with your luck. With a tug, the glove box opens and reveals the map you had set in it before embarking on our journey. The map that was mailed to you of the town didn’t seem very complicated. But if you happened to make a wrong turn it could land you amongst some rocky cliffs which you thought better to stay away from. So you carefully examined the route to town, what the people here seemed to call The Village Square. You took the liberty of drawing your house on the map, a cute little doodle in blue gel pen and then proceeding to draw the rest of the route in the same blue so you’d always have it.

This was it. A fresh start where no one knew your name. This would be good for you. At least that's what you kept trying to convince yourself.

Goodbye someone else’s daughter and hello new self-made woman.

–

You weren’t lost. You were just…exploring.

Okay, you were a little lost but the signs for The Village Square kept passing you by and yet you found yourself also passing the same exact pine trees–and you knew they were the same pine trees because every time you saw them you thought ‘hey that kinda looks like a dog’. At some point it started to feel as if you were spawning in and out of some dimension until you finally turned into a lot directly behind one of the signs, sick of this game of hide and seek. There were no signs for parking which is why you’d passed by so many times in the first place, and now it seemed like you were behind a restaurant of some kind. This couldn’t be where everyone parked, right? Anxiety was pooling in your stomach and before you could sike yourself out, you ultimately decided to park and walk from here. You would only be a few minutes and hopefully you’d be able to muster up the courage to ask someone where to park from now on, even if it did make you seem like an idiot.

Leaves crunched under your sneakers, an obvious indication of the Fall season trickling one leaf at a time. As if you were a wary animal, you cautiously walked around the building, finding that it was someplace called The Bourbon; the letters written out in neon red lights that weren’t yet illuminated, the open sign in the window dull signifying they were closed. You let your eyes roam up and down the street, small businesses lined up all the way through and a few patrons, clearly with an agenda making their way along the sidewalks. It was a cute place, nestled in a little valley. Instead of plain old cement the sidewalks were cobblestone and overall it seemed to be a pedestrian oriented community with several cross walks and barely any traffic.

From here you had no idea how to get to Marvin’s Grocery, which seemed to be one of the only produce stores around according to your map. The others were a little more out of the way, your house conveniently only around five miles away from The Village Square. The shops you passed as you attempted to gain a sense of direction were exquisite. Mom-and-pop shops that either smelled of delicious baked goods or hunger-inducing aromas that filled your nostrils with savory goodness. The smell would haunt you in the best way for days to come. A candle shop piqued your interest, as well as a flower shop that bloomed so beautifully among the muted tones of the brick buildings around it.

Everything was so unlike what you were used to, back home things were more commercialized, built for quantity not quality. Here it seemed to be the polar opposite which you could appreciate. Corporations were the root of all evil and you had yet to see one single corporation among the several businesses you passed so far. People seemed friendly but also confused by your presence, offering you a meaningful wave accompanied by a puzzled expression written on every face you encountered. You were a stranger and it was becoming more apparent the deeper you found yourself in the square. Some people whispered and you happened to snag onto a few words, mostly grasping ‘is she new?’. In return, you graced them with a polite smile. It wasn’t like you to initiate small talk or approach new friendships. If they happened, they happened per the other party’s account, not yours, never one to try and stand out in the crowd only making this infinitely more uncomfortable for you, which was no one’s fault other than your own insecurity.

Eventually you were able to come face to face with the giant ‘Marvin’s Grocery’ sign which looked to be handpainted in big white letters outlined in black with a few cartoony carrots, a tomato, and a head of lettuce. Wandering around for an extra ten minutes and refusing to ask for help certainly wasn’t ideal but it did familiarize you with the shops you would soon be buying from on the regular. And it did give you a soft introduction to the small population of Knife’s Edge which despite the name, the people seemed lovely enough.

The store wasn’t the slightest bit crowded and it wasn’t very large either. A mother and her two kids skimmed one of the aisles while an older man pondered over the produce, apples specifically. Grabbing a cart, you begin gathering the items you had sorted out on a list in your head. First bananas, grapes, and blueberries, you didn’t want to bother with too much produce as it went bad fast and you were only one person so those would do for now. Then you moved on to pantry essentials, canned goods that you could stock up on and always have on hand. Green beans, corn, peas, baked beans, even soups such as tomato, cream of mushroom, and the standard chicken noodle.

You’d built up a cart full in no time, and by then, no one else was around so you noted that this time would be perfect to get your shopping done in the future so as to avoid as many people as possible. The cashier was a woman, probably in her early sixties who seemed not all that intimidating which you were grateful for. She smiles warmly and you appreciate the sentiment, grinning back at her as you place each item at the register.

“You’re new. But I bet you’ve already had an earful of that, haven’t you?” She lightly teases.

You laugh softly, avoiding eye contact while still trying to remain well mannered, taking notice in small glances that the woman’s name tag reads Donnie in bold red letters as well as the ‘help wanted’ sign perched up against the window. She seems friendly, a little rough around the edges though in the sense that she had several tattoos that disappeared into the rolled up sleeve of her blue crewneck sweater as well as a fire in her icy blue eyes. You could already guess that she was quite the character.

“Don’t let them scare you off.” Donnie carefully bags the eggs with a few more light items, her confidence radiating, as if she doesn’t even need to try, as if it just comes to her so naturally. Something you could only wish for every once in a blue moon. “We don’t get many newbies. They’ll get it outta their system.” Her voice is a tad scratchy but smooth otherwise, bringing a strange sense of comfort.

“Thank you.” A mouse may as well have been louder than you but you tried and that’s what counts, right? New people were not your thing but they would have to become your thing, moving to a place where no one knew you existed and all. Or maybe you could fly under the radar? It couldn’t hurt to become the mysterious outsider that spoke to no one although it wasn’t a very realistic ambition.

This was fucked. You thought to yourself in the solitude of your brain. Of course the second thoughts were coming now and not before you bought the damn property that tied you to this place. Initially, the idea was a temporary situation far from home but the deeper you delved into this town, the more permanent it started to feel. Not just anyone up and moved here and that was clear by the reaction you pulled from several onlookers. And yet you moved here, bought that damn cabin with the money left to you from your father’s estate, and ultimately, left everything you knew in a manic state. A mid life crisis in your early twenties.

“Miss, your change.” The woman broke through your thoughts and you must have shifted into autopilot, not even remembering handing her any money in the first place.

“S-sorry.” You mutter, collecting the filthy coins in your palm, shoving them into the front pocket of your jeans which you knew would be a pain to dig out later but again, that was an issue for future you. She hated your guts.

“No prob–”

It was abrupt, your exit but despite your rude departure, she called out “I’m Donnie!” and you never felt like a shittier person. She was welcoming you to her home and you didn’t even have the decency to introduce yourself. That’s how it looked at least, on the inside you were panicking and needed to isolate yourself immediately.

You must have looked like a maniac carrying your groceries in a near sprint toward the direction of your car. Everyone else seemed to move at such a mellow pace, not a single vein close to popping out of stress whereas you looked like you’d crumble under the slightest inconvenience. Which you would if you didn’t get to the car fast enough. A small misstep causing you to trip? No chance, you wouldn’t show your face again for weeks. Your groceries spilling all over the pavement because of said possible misstep? You would consider moving all over again.

Thankfully the majority of the walk back to the little lot behind one of many businesses was blacked out, your heart practically pumping in your ear the whole time. What you couldn’t black out from was the man-the same man from this morning smoking a cigarette as he stared at your car. Fear drenched you; you couldn’t gauge his expression with his back to you but you could guess he wasn’t going to be smiling with the way he was lingering, shuffling his boots back and forth in contemplation.

Announcing yourself felt like the most daunting task in the world, humiliation melting into your skin like an uncomfortable burn. Maybe some higher power heard your pathetic struggle because the crunch of your sneaker on a perfectly placed leaf called his attention to you, his head snapping in your direction instantly.

The urge to just run was strong but you maintained whatever cool was left within you, fingers waving at him weakly.

His expression was blank, unreadable. He didn’t say a word as you slowly inched your way closer to the vehicle, only eyeing your every movement like a predator protecting his territory, much like he did that same morning. The closer view of his face showcased his stoic yet soft features, eyes almost puppy dog-like but something glazed over them, a facade of some kind. Something that overtook the puppy dog nature they were capable of and replaced them with a cruel glare. The shape of his nose was endearing at least, rounded at the tip and tinted pink from the cold.

“You just park anywhere you want where you’re from?” He asks, gesturing vaguely with a tip of his cigarette toward the car.

Your shaky breath has him furrowing his brows at you, seemingly offended. It’s not in your nature to offend people but you can’t seem to stop doing it, especially today whether you mean to or not. But you definitely don’t think you mean to.

“N-no, ‘m sorry.”

“Sorry?” He mocks, scoffing before inhaling a puff of smoke once more.

“I-I uh, I’m leaving. It won’t happen again.” You rush out, all the while forcing yourself not to cry. “I just–I couldn’t find parking–I was driving around and—there was no–I couldn’t–”

“Don’t let it happen again.” He warns, stern but easing up on his intense demeanor.

“Promise.” You whisper, a tear betraying you and rolling down your cheek to which you quickly gather your grocery bags in one hand to swat away at your cheek. It’s too late, he already saw.

No empathy is detected in his stare, not that you feel you deserve any. It was just an observation. ��Now, get out of my lot.” It’s a demand, a non-negotiable demand that if you were brave enough to argue, would probably have him towing your shitty little sedan.

So you nod, blinking back the water works as best you could while tossing your groceries into the passenger seat, him watching the whole time. With your seatbelt suddenly feeling like the most complicated thing in the world, you expect to look up and meet pure rage but instead your ears perk up at a few knocks on the window. Rolling it down as fast as possible with the manual handle, the man stands towering over you, cigarette abandoned sometime in between you getting in the car and struggling to remember how a seatbelt works. Did he have more choice words for you for illegally parking on what he deemed ‘his lot’? You really didn’t want to stick around to find out but you had no choice.

“Left on Main. Then right on Cherry.” His dark eyes hinted at hues of warm honey but they were briskly dismissed by his cold attitude.

“What?”

“Next time. So you don’t turn into my damn lot again.”

You still didn’t know what he meant by ‘his lot’ and you didn’t have the backbone to ask. You did however fully get the message that you were to never park here again and were now aware of which streets to search for to avoid it at all costs. You’d memorize every detail of it if it meant you could steer clear of the apathetic man before you. With a nervous nod, you were off, not once looking back just as he did that morning except he had more grit in his actions, you just came off as a scared church mouse. You never even caught his name and you didn’t mind not knowing it at this rate seeing as he was all bite and bark for no good reason.

This place never felt so far from home. Nowhere was home. Your heart was in a sense homeless, lost and longing for the connections that these people had with each other that you couldn’t seem to tap into even if your life depended on it. In all fairness, it had only been a few hours and you couldn’t gauge your success based on that but it was tugging on your brain like a parasite, eating away at your final optimistic thoughts.

I don’t belong here.

I don’t fit in.

The drive ‘home’ was flooded with tears and muffled sobs into your now sticky sleeve, coated in snot and if anyone were to pass you along the way you would look psychotic with how your face scrunched up at every exhale, doing your best to keep yourself quiet despite being the only one in the car. You were always doing your best. Always to please others. And it never worked.

~end~

Masterlist

tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst #bartender!eddie #eddie munson au #bartender!eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

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katherines-imagines · 1 year

Text

Still Into You

pairings: hazel callahan x reader

warnings: obliviousness, literally so oblivious that its frustrating, bad writing

key: *** - time skip, faux - fake

summary: The Fight Club has been trying to get Hazel and Y/N forever, so when Y/N has a concert with her band, the Fight Club tries to bring the two together..

For as long as the fight club could remember, Hazel and Y/N had been hopelessly in love with each other, but the two were clearly, completely oblivious. Really, it stressed everyone out. No matter what they tried, the two idiots could not get together. They had tried everything. They planted fake love letters, they set up real love letters, they arranged blind dates with each other, they even tried locking them in a room (subtly of course), but nothing seemed to work.

“Nothing is working,” PJ complained to the group. They were having a secret meeting without Hazel and Y/N. “This has gone on for far too long,” PJ said, the group nodding in agreement. “I mean, at least Y/N tries. Hazel’s the problem.”

“No, remember when Hazel got Y/N coffee,” Brittany pointed out.

“She got all of us coffee.”

“Oh,” Brittany said dejectedly.

“Yeah, she was only going to get it for Y/N, but she chickened out last minute,” Josie recalled. The group collectively face palmed. “Ok guys, we have to come up with something.” As the group sat in silence trying to come up with a new plan, a loud gasp came from Stella-Rebecca.

“Oh my gosh I totally forgot, Y/N has a band concert and she invited all of us!” The girls started chattering excited as Stella-Rebecca started passing out the tickets before Annie clapped her hands.

“That’s it,” she exclaimed. The group turned to her in confusion. “This is how we get them together! We get Y/N to sing a song to confess her feelings, and we help Hazel know that she’s singing it for her. It’s perfect!” Unconsciously, the group mentally simultaneously agreed that Annie was the smartest of the group.

“Great idea,” Isabel gushed. “So how are we gonna do this?” The girls huddled around Annie, ready to here the game plan.

“Ok, so here’s what we’re gonna do..”

***

“Hey are you good over there,” the lead singer asked. Y/N nodded, nervously tapping her guitar. The fight club had told her to sing a love song, and look directly at Hazel to confess. In all honesty, Y/N would do anything just for Hazel to finally realize her feelings. This was the last resort, so she would give it her all.

“Ready guys? We’re on in five,” the drummer notified the group. Nodding, they got in position. Taking a deep breath, Y/N reassured herself that she could do it.

While Y/N was getting ready, the fight club found their seats, putting Hazel directly where Y/N would be able to view her easily and vice versa.

“So Hazel, you ready to see your girlfriend,” Sylvie teased. Blushing, Hazel shook her head in denial.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Hazel said with a faux scowl. I wish, Hazel thought to herself.

“With how she talks about you, I’m honestly surprised,” Annie enticed. Annie was sure that if Hazel had puppy ears, they would be perked right now. Hook, line, and sinker.

“How does she talk about me,” Hazel asked curiously, trying to play it off smoothly. The group subtly gave each other knowing glances before Annie answered the oblivious girl.

“She always says, ‘Hazel’s so pretty’, ‘Hazel’s so organized’, ‘she’s so cool when she fights’. Seems like she really likes you.” Blushing, Hazel looked off into the distance. Maybe Y/N did like her as more than a friend? No, of course not, she think’s of Hazel as ‘just a friend’. a/n: fucking adrien agreste vibes

“I think Y/N told me that she would be singing the last song specifically for you, Hazel,” Isabel said slyly. Head snapping towards Isabel, she bombarded the poor girl with questions.

“Really? For me? You’re not joking?” Isabel blinked before answering.

“Yes, yes, and no,” Isabel smiled. A huge smile settled on Hazel’s face before the light’s dimmed. The group focused their attention to the stage, where their friend stood on stage. As the audience applauded loudly at the band’s entrance, Hazel clapped the loudest.

The band made their way through the songs, until finally they were at the last one.

“Before we finish up with our last song,” Y/N said with a bright smile. “I wanna dedicate this last one to someone I’ve been trying to tell them, but they’re just a little bit oblivious.” With a nervous smile, Y/N stared directly at Hazel, and motioned for the band to start. The main singer took a step back for Y/N to sing. They started playing and Hazel could recognize the song, ‘Still Into You’, by Paramore. Oh my god, Hazel thought. This was their song. The song playing when they met. The song playing when both girls fell for each other. Theirs. As Y/N sang, her gaze never left Hazel’s.

“Even after all this time,” Y/N sang, looking at Hazel. “I’m into you. Baby, not a day goes by, that I’m not into you!” As they finished the song, a huge applause came out, Hazel’s mouth dropped. ‘I love you Haze’, Y/N mouthed. Hazel could feel her heart beating hard in her chest and she finally mouthed the words back.

‘I love you too’.

A/N: @deadgirlwalkingtaylorsversion wrote a post asking about the reader confessing unconsciously during a concert, but I tried putting my own little twist to it (hope that’s ok). I’m taking requests if y’all have any! Hope you all liked it!

#hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan #hazel callahan imagine #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan imagines #bottoms movie #bottoms x reader

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oliversrarebooks · 10 months

Note

can we see fitz's far less patient approach to taking a thrall?👉👈

I'm working on a much longer piece about Fitz's magic show, but I wanted to write a short holiday piece to cheer up anyone who might be cheered up by a vampire kidnapping them off the street.

Couldn't be me.

TW: hypnosis, kidnapping

It's a cold day, much colder than you expected it to be when you went out Christmas shopping. The sun's already long since down, the street lamps are flickering to life, and snow is falling gently from the sky, sticking in your hat and scarf. If you don't make it out of the cold soon, you feel like you might freeze to the sidewalk. But all the streets look alike, and none of them look familiar.

As you're trying to get your bearings, you run straight into a young man in a dark green peacoat, almost spilling all of your shopping. "Sorry, sir! I didn't see you there."

"Oh, no need to apologize," he says with a quick flash of a smile. He kneels down to pick up a bag you dropped. "Are you lost?"

You're not keen on admitting that to a total stranger, but something about him puts you at ease. "Not seriously... I only just came from Clarkson's Five and Dime, and I'm trying to find my way back to Grove Street."

"I see. I think I can help," he says. But instead of pointing you in the right direction or handing you back your bag, he reaches out with his hand -- ungloved, on a chill winter night -- and brushes a snowflake from your cheek.

His hand is cold, so freezing cold, but you feel flooded with delightful warmth, as if you're sitting by a roaring fire. It's so comforting that you ignore the alarm bells in your mind trying to warm you, and instead stay stock still as he steps closer and caresses your cheek.

"There you are," he says. "Feeling better?"

"Yes... sir..." you say. The world around you is starting to blur, a featureless haze of gas lamps and shop windows. All you can focus on is eyes the color of rainclouds.

He smiles, and you might be able to recognize something wrong with his grin, if only you weren't feeling so utterly relaxed and calm and helpless.

"Let me take your bags." He pulls them from your arms, never breaking eye contact, before replacing his hand on your cheek. He plucks your hat from your head and pets your hair, and you don't mind a bit, because you're so warm that you don't need it. "I'll help put you to sleep."

Sleep? That doesn't seem right. "I was... I was trying to get to Grove Street..." you explain again, your words sounding weak and shaky.

"No." His finger brushes your cheek. "You were trying to get to sleep. You're so tired, and that's dangerous out in this snow. You need to find some place to sleep."

A yawn escapes you. It's true. You've been shopping all day, and now that you're warm, you're so very, very drowsy. "I need to sleep..." you agree.

"Yes, you need to sleep. You're so sleepy, and you're sleepier every minute you're out in the snow. Your eyes are so droopy it looks like you can barely keep them open." He smiles again. "It's an awfully good thing I've found you."

"Mmmm... mmm hmmm..." You feel like you could agree with anything he has to say. You're practically asleep on your feet, and it's only his arm around your waist that's holding you up now. You let your head come to rest on his shoulder, letting your eyes rest.

The next thing you know, strong arms are scooping you up off the sidewalk. You're in the strange man's arms, and it feels so normal and natural. "I need to take you someplace a little more private so I can take my meal and so that you can rest," he says into your ear. "How does that sound?"

You snuggle in close to the wool coat. It smells of flowers, expensive soaps. You find it hard to be bothered that the man is taking you anywhere. You're so warm and you just want to curl up and go to sleep.

He chuckles. "Sometimes I really can't believe what easy marks humans are. I suppose I was too, once."

You stir, your sleeping mind trying to understand what he means.

"Don't worry about it. Go back to sleep."

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity

#ask #fitz #hypnosis #mind control #vampire #whump #vampire whumper

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dozing-marshmallow · 1 year

Text

BAKING WITH TOTAL DRAMA CHARACTERS SCENARIOS

(Photos aren’t mine by the way!)

BAKING WITH LINDSAY

(AS A BIRTHDAY SURPRISE)

You were surprised when she told you she didn’t have a mani-pedi appointment today. As if the day couldn’t be more convenient.

In Lindsay’s world, there was no such thing as baking unless it was done for her. And she was no expert in cooking either, which is why she was hesitant to bake.

“I don’t get it... Why am I putting four eggs in when five is my lucky number?”

Yep. As long as she was in the kitchen you could not let your guard down.

“What are you saying? What’s with all this flour? And this butter? Is that supposed to help me remember it?”

Alright, you both definitely didn’t have the same image in mind,“Remember what, Lindsay? We’re baking.”

“Ohh bake!” See? “I thought you meant pake, you know like password authenticated blah blah... Oh I’m soooo happy that wasn’t the case, you really aren’t complicated in that way, (Y/M)!”

She still messes your name up sometimes. But on the bright side, her motivation and inner child was found.

She loved pouring the sprinkles into the batter and tried her best to not break any when mixing.

You strictly put yourself in charge of dividing the batter evenly between each tin and swapping them around fifteen minutes within oven baking.

In the meantime, Lindsay managed to get started on the icing- not without constant confirmation that she was doing it right. Seems like she learnt a lot already.

All was looking well, until you noticed something out of place in the bowl. Feeling icky, you carefully extract it,”Lindsay... Is this your hair?”

“Oops...”

You fixed her hair into various styles until the timer went off.

She was gasping in amazement to how solid and fragrant they came out, asking if she could just eat them like that, and you don’t blame her.

Fast forward to icing the layer in between the combined cake and it as a whole, you were about done preparing the piping bag from a separate bowl of icing when she suddenly pleaded to do it.

Anxious, you handed it over to her. Your worry about any mistake she could make was short lived when remembering that even if it did come out slobbery, you know that her intentions were pure and it’s not like anyone else was going to eat the cake anyway. Until watching her actually pipe made you realise she was no amateur:

She was way better at it than you expected.

Seriously, her flowering and swirls were so high in symmetry, it was practically perfect!

“Duhhh! I do makeup! Hair and makeup! I’m like basically holding a curler, ooo I wonder if I could use this bag to style my hair instead? This has to be Victoria’s Secret to smelling so good!”

Logic never went well with Lindsay’s talents. And that was fine with you.

“Taa-da!” She cheers out,”Ohh it’s so pretty... I almost don’t wanna eat it!”

You congratulated Lindsay for her fruitful efforts and asked if she knew why you wanted to bake a cake with her specifically on that day.

“Because you like like me?” Her response after her time of self complimenting over the finish product was done.

“Yes, and also...” This is it.

You grabbed your 1 candle and 7 candle, placing them next to each other on top of the cake.

She watched as you lit them up in seconds, and without warning, the occasion hit her.

“Ohh right! Now I know why my Facebook’s blowing up like crazy today! It’s today!” As though the piped cursive writing of her name on top of the cake didn’t tell her too, but when she started clapping her hands together with that big smile on her shiny lips, it made up for it,”Yaaay! Seventy one today! Can’t believe how long it’s been since I first picked up a magazine. And was born, can’t forget about that, duh. Uh oh. Does that mean I’ll get frail and wrinkles now? Aww I don’t wanna give up tanning! Not yet!”

“You don’t need to worry about that for now, Lindsay, because it actually says seventeen. You’re seventeen today, and for another three hundred and sixty five days. Happy birthday, baby.” ⟡

BAKING WITH GWEN

(HELPING HER OUT)

“A pie, huh? Which flavour you thinking, apple, blueber-“

“Blackcurrant. We’ll be making a blackcurrant pie... that okay with you?”

When Gwen told you that her clique were hosting a get together party, you were almost as enthusiastic as she was.

But...

Because this was Gwen’s first time going to a party, she never thought she would have to worry about oven temperatures and accurate measurements up until now where the group agreed to whip up something individually that everyone could all share and eat.

That’s why she came to you with this dilemma! Her one and only.

Definitely not so she could simultaneously spend time with you.

You believed the thought process behind her choice of baking a blackcurrant pie was genius: the lattice crust on top could mimic a spiderweb and the colour behind itself was the real thing that appealed to the goth eye.

At the start, Gwen was nervous. She never did this kind of stuff before and didn’t want to screw it up, especially if her friends were going to eat it.

That’s why you suggested: I’ll make the crust, you can make the blackcurrant filling.

Oh how she loved crushing the blackcurrants,“Just imagining it’s Heather’s head right now.” She said with a smile.

Isn’t she so cute!

After pouring the sauce in the base, Gwen’s ambition really skyrocketed- you couldn’t deny how happy you felt when she insisted on making the perpendicular crust for the top, and that was just one example.

Even with all the red on her hands, she really was an artist.

“This is fun! It’s really like painting! Only with dough and fruit.”

Now, all the pie needed was no more than thirty minutes in the oven. To pass the time, you guys decided to do some drawing in her bedroom.

And it came out beautifully! The crust was golden brown and the blackcurrant juices were steaming with sweet flavour. Delicious... You can tell by Gwen’s eyes that she can’t wait to sink her teeth into a slice of it.

But her craving was quickly replaced by annoyance, upon realising how messy the countertop and floor was.

You cheekily remind her that she could’ve just bought something and passed it off as hers if she didn’t want to go through the trouble of cleaning everything up.

“Y-You think I would do something like that just so I wouldn’t need to clean? Jeez, I’m not that bad! I couldn’t handle the dreading guilt of doing that to them. Besides, I made it with you. That alone already tops off any other pie I could have bought instead.” <3

BAKING WITH ALEJANDRO

(IN CELEBRATION OF A SPANISH FESTIVITY)

“It would be an utmost honour, mi tesoro.”

In light of his Spanish roots, you were going to be baking “Pan de Cea” which was some kind of bread that’s traditionally made in favour of this summer festival called “festa de exaltación”.

You couldn’t wait! However, because you weren’t so familiar with bread baking, you were naturally amazed by Alejandro having known the entire recipe off by heart.

“No need to be ashamed. Unlike my love for you, this recipe will be very easy for you to understand.”

And what would be a day with Alejandro without his charming lines?

You loved and hated the warm effect they had on you, even more so when they escalated to a physical level.

He loves to stand right behind you, with his hand being on yours when you were mixing the yeast, the flour, the salt, the olive oil together...

He’d pour the water so majestically into the bowl and took over when your arm got tired of stirring.

After the dough was hard, he claimed that you’d have to leave it in the bowl under plastic wrap for a day,“I know I’d feel safe if you stayed here all day with this dough, your beauty is the perfect thing to maintain a high temperature.”

Pretending you weren’t flustered, he laughed and invited you to get churros with him to make up for the spare time- it was only fitting.

Timeskip to the next day where the dough was hard, just how it needed to be on the parchment paper. Two minutes of watching Alejandro rub the dough in olive oil felt like two hours with the frequent looks he shoots at you.

Once he’s done, he pampers you by also literally massaging you during the hour needed for the bread to rise. Guess he thought you got jealous of it.

Jealous was a stretch, but you didn’t think you’d groan when it was time to take the loaf out. At least it smelt as pleasant as it looked.

As you were about take a piece, Alejandro stopped your hand with his to take it for you instead. This was nothing out of the ordinary, Alejandro just enjoyed having the liberty to feed you like that.

“Delicious... You did so well...”

“Don’t hold yourself at such low standards, mi amor! We did very well. Words alone aren’t enough to describe how proud I am of you. Feliz festa de exaltación.”

“Happy exaltation party!”

For the first time in your relationship with him, he was the one caught off guard,”Did I say it in English before?”

¡Era canela fina! ///

BAKING WITH CHRIS

(JUST WANTING TO SPEND TIME WITH HIM)

Initially, he would accuse the activity something only for “peasants” to do so you quickly reminded him that it was an insensitive thing to say and it wasn’t always about material things; sometimes it’s just about wanting to spend time with him outside Total Drama.

Once he’s gotten over his pride, he joins you, on the condition that you made cookies- since, according to him, it requires the less mental strength.

This probably won’t be surprising, but he made you do most of the work (at first). Claimed that his hands would be “soiled” if he touched the “filthy” ingredients for too long.

In the beginning, he was mean spirited as Chris enjoys to be i.e pouring a handful of flour down your clothes, forcing your face down the sink with the tap on, general shoving.

You wouldn’t have minded if you could’ve also had a laugh whenever you tried to recite the treatment.

Yeah he would be seriously insulted if you tried even doing something as little as rubbing a chocolate chip against his cheek.

It wasn’t until you threw an egg at his head out of anger and watched the yolk oil down his hair where he took accountability that he went overboard. Sure, he was laughing while he did.

But his hair was ruined for the rest of the baking process so you were too.

Afterwards, there was less “joking” and more compassion. Somehow now that he temporarily moved past his sadist ways, Chris began to involve himself a lot more in the whisking and licking your finger and vice versa of leftover batter.

The rolling of dough into a collection of spheres was arguably the best part.

“Look Chris! I made one that looks just like you!” You held up a cookie circle, obvious that those two lines of dough were purposely added to be on top to mimic his hair.

“Oh? What a coincidence! I made one that looks just like you too!” He declared, revealing a sticky slob of dough in his hand right after he said that.

“Oi...” You smile helplessly,”That’s not a nice thing to say to your spouse.”

But hey, if he didn’t tease at all, was that really Chris?

Post setting them on the tray and into the oven, Chris immediately rushes to the shower, and by the time he’s done, you were on your fifth cookie.

He whined at you for not waiting for him, but you’re quick to hand the one you’re on to him.

He finishes it, not without reminding you that you were the only exception to treating him like a “regular” person. Which in his books, was a deadly sin.

Needless to say, he’s impressed; despite him letting on so little, you’ve been with this man long enough to know otherwise. You could only smirk when he makes dismissive claims that they would’ve came out better if it was just him making them as he took spontaneous sips of his glass of milk.

By the end, he’s really glad you had this time together. He won’t stop thinking about it for a while. Heck, he’s more excited about baking with you again than you are.

Even if he won’t admit it.

Yet. :)

#total drama #total drama island #total drama scenarios #td lindsay #td chris #tdi #td gwen #td alejandro #baking scenarios #romance #fluff #x reader #tdi x reader

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dramatic-crying · 1 year

Text

good old days // ryan dunn x reader

Writing prompt: "She runs into her high school crush and reminisces about the time that they had a really cute moment"

Summary: While working the closing shift at your job, you run into someone you haven't seen in years.

Work count: ~1.5k

Warnings: MAJOR FLUFF, swearing, cute shit

"Will that be all, sir?" You ask, making drinks for the man currently sitting across the bar counter from you.

"Yeah, whatever. Just put it on my tab, will ya, sweetheart?" He remarks, giving you a wink before walking to his friends halfway across the bar.

"You got it, dick," you say under your breath.

"Hey, Y/N!" You hear to your right. You immediately turn to see your manager walking towards you, your heart instantly dropping when you realize that she might have heard what you just said. However, despite your fears, she smiles at you warmly and says, "You wanna take your 30 minute break now before we get super busy?"

"Yes, please," you exaggerate, smiling at her as you rush towards the back. All you grab is a pack of cigarettes and the small dinner of some fries and chicken strips your coworker had cooked for you at the beginning of your shift. You check the clock, just to check how much of your never-ending shift has passed. 9:17, perfect.

"See ya in half an hour!" You shout to your coworkers before walking out the front door and heading to one of the tables placed in front of the bar. You sit down and quickly dig into your meal, feeling like you haven't eaten in days (when, in reality, it's been about 5 hours).

About eating all the lukewarm french-fries you had, you pause to have a cigarette before having the rest of your food. "Hey, dude! Mind sharing one?" You hear from right behind you. As you glance towards where the voice came from, you find a relatively tall, smiling man with a buzz cut.

You barely mutter out an answer before you see a strong hand land on the shoulder of the first man. As the first man moves out of the way, you see a vaguely familiar face behind him. He's blonde, has enormous blue eyes, and a shit-eating grin on his face, and you could swear you've seen him somewhere before. "Will you stop messing with people while we get food for five goddamn seconds?" He playfully complains, shoving his friend away from you. The blonde then looks to you, while saying, "I'm so sorry about him, he doesn't really know boundaries..." By the end of this man's sentence, his voice has almost completely trailed off and his friend heads back into the restaurant. He just... stares into your eyes for what feels like an eternity. He shakes his head a moment later, breaking eye contact. "I should go," he mumbles, beginning to leave.

"Wait!" You shout, expressing the only words you could muster in this entire situation. You turn around in your chair to be able to fully see the mystery man. You chuckle slightly as you realize you have this random man's entire attention. "You just look really familiar," you chuckle as you sweep your hair out of your face. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound weird at all."

He lets out a little giggle and moves the sunglasses he was wearing to sit on top of his head. "I was actually gonna say the same thing about you," he admits, taking a few steps closer. You gesture to the other end of the table you're sitting at.

"Wanna join me?" You suggest, taking another pull of your cigarette. He looks unsure for a few seconds, then begins to move over to the table, taking the seat that you offered. He suddenly holds his hand out to you and says, "I'm Ryan, by the way."

You take his hand and respond, "I'm Y/N." After this action, the man, who you now know as Ryan, smiles twice as big as he did before. "Did you happen to go to Westchester High?"

Ryan's eyes widen with realization as his mouth drops open. "Oh my god, of fucking course! I totally should've recognized you, you were in my P.E. class, right?" Your face begins to feel warm as blush rushed to your cheeks, but you still answer his question.

"I think so, yeah. The teacher, Mr. Wilson, was always a fuckin' bitch to you," you exclaim while chuckling. Ryan covers his face in embarrassment.

"Well, can't say I didn't deserve it since I ditched his class most of the time."

"So, what have you been doing since high school?" You inquire, hoping to continue this conversation with a long-lost acquaintance.

He clears his throat, and you shift in your seat in anticipation of his answer. "Well, I actually started filming movies with my friends, and we just started filming a T.V. show with some other really cool guys."

You can feel your eyes widen in surprise; it's not every day that someone you used to know happens to be famous. "Holy shit, good for you!"

He shakes his head while laughing small bit. "Yeah, well, it can get pretty hectic every once in a while." You scoff in response and say, "Don't tell me that you're complaining about being famous."

He shrugs his shoulders with a neutral look on his face. "What can I say, I'm not much of an extrovert."

You nod your head and say, "Yeah, I guess that's fair."

"What about you?" He questions. "What have you been up to?"

Just before you were about to answer, your manager comes out of the bar and begins to yell to you. "Y/N, what are you doing?? It's been 45 minutes!"

You whip back around to Ryan with a terrified look on your face. You were about to apologize, but the blonde man stopped you. "It's okay," he declares, smiling at you. "We can reminisce in the good old days later, maybe after you get off of work?"

Instantly, you nod in response. "Absolutely, um... I get off at 1."

"Oof, long night," he responds.

"I know," you say, giggling.

"Well, whatever. It's worth it," Ryan admits, his puppy-dog eyes staring straight into your soul.

You bite your lip. "Okay, see ya later." And, with that, you go back into the restaurant.

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

It was finally time for you to go home, and you couldn't wait. You rushed out of the bar as fast as you could, ensuring you had all your belongings with you, so you didn't have to return until your next shift.

As you step outside, you feel the slight trickle of light rain. "Great," you sigh, soon realizing you were going to have to walk home in the pouring rain. You hear someone greet you out of nowhere and you shriek slightly in surprise. However, not surprisingly, you soon see Ryan doubled over, laughing his ass off. What a dick. "Jesus, what the fuck were you doing in the shadows?? You're gonna give someone a fuckin' heart attack one day," you exclaim, holding your hand over your heart.

"Oh my god, you should've seen your face!" Ryan cries, still hysterically laughing. "You jumped like three feet into the air!"

"Shut up," you groan, walking over and shoving him slightly. He finally begins to calm down, but it's extremely easy to tell his eyes were tearing up with how hard he was laughing. "What are you even doing here still?"

"Well, I mean, you said we could talk after you get off of work, so I just thought I would... wait for you," he says.

You raise your eyebrows, and he seems to catch onto the reason why.

"Okay, so that sounded a lot less creepy in my head. But do you think I could at least walk you home?"

You take a few seconds to think, but it really isn't even a question for you. "Sure, why not?"

He grins in response and holds out his hand for you to take. You roll your eyes but take his hand anyway.

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

It only took about 15 minutes to walk back to your apartment, but the entire time you two were laughing like idiots while reminiscing about the stupid shit you did in high school.

"Right, right, and then Raab ended up getting expelled because of it!" Ryan yells.

"For smearing shit all over the school's lockers?" You cry in disgust.

Ryan hums in response and giggles once again. Once you two had properly calmed down, you point out that you both had arrived at your apartment. It almost looks as though Ryan is upset as he walks you up to your apartment building's front door. You both stop in front of the building, and he gently takes your hands in his.

"I know this is gonna sound weird, and possibly creepy, but you are really, really pretty. Beautiful, even." He remarks, biting his lip as though he's pondering what to say next.

"Yes?" You question, urging him to speak what's on his mind.

"Can I... kiss you?" He sheepishly looks up at you through his eyelashes.

You scoff and say, "Is that even a question?" You then cautiously grab his chin and bring him in for a passionate kiss. After almost 10 seconds, you both pull back for air. He rests his forehead on yours.

"Wow," he says in awe.

You slowly pull back his face to find that his cheeks are slightly dusted pick. "Do you wanna know something?" You whisper. He just nods his head in response. "I've been waiting for you to do that since high school."

#jackass x reader #ryan dunn x reader #dunn x reader #ryan dunn fluff #ryan x reader #cky x reader #cky #jackass #ryan dunn #ryan #dunn

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ohdudedhesflirting · 1 year

Text

Matthew boyfriend headcanon

Synopsis : Just my thoughts about boyfriend!Matthew

Tag : My dear @seok02 this is for you <3 I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

....Under the cut ....

Matthew is the most sweet and understanding human and boyfriend you could have ever wished for.

Attentive, kind, patient. He always made sure everything you might need was ready for you. Oh you need a tissue ? Let me fetch you a pack. Need a hand to carry your bag ? Already on his shoulder and you didnt even had the time to let your thought out loud.

Matthew is the type of boyfriend that your whole family loves and knows.

You swear you didn't even know how it happened, it just happened ..? One day you take him home in a very casual way, you know, just for him to get acquainted with your parents and the next thing you know is that him and your dad are cutting wood together ? You are getting to a family gathering to see your cousins and somehow he is already here "Hi Babe !!" smile flashing his lips. You don't really understand how it happened but on thing was sure : they loved Matthew as much as they loved you.

He is the type of boyfriend that just lives to feel you.

Its nothing that makes you uncomofrtable or suffocated. Its just that Matthew likes feeling you. Wether its just walking hand in hand, having his hand on your back, or just casually resting his hands on your hips and his head in the crook of your neck.

He is a waist holder. Helping you to reach something, walking on the street together, just doing grocery shopping. His hands always naturally come to rest on your hips. Not his fault if they always feel especially well.

He loves to give you piggyback rides. Its just something he likes. Feeling your legs around his torso, arms around him, face inthe crook of his neck. Hearing your heart beating against his back.

A part of his love language is matching items, no matther if its a big sweatshirt, or a little ring. He just loves to match with you.

Pyjama party ? Give him two minutes and he has some matching pyjamas, because what is better than cuddle in the same outftit ? Nothing. Winter is very cold and you need a new beanie ? Say no more boyfie Matthew got you a matching one with him.

Both of you are really into jewelry, and he already has a couple of matching rings with his members so naturally, there is one day a ring that finds its way on your finger, a discreet ring with both of your favorite flower interwined.

Matthew loves being babied by you when his members aren't around. He just really likes when you are soft with him, just pulling him into a warm embrace, playing with his hands or with his hair (careful he will fall asleep after five solid minutes)

Have I mentionned tattoos ? Because Matthew definitely wants to get at least one with you.

You already had a few of your own, and Matthew as well so when the relationship get very serious I can totally imagine Matthew just asking you if you wanna get a matching one.

"Not a cringy one like a forever symbol babe, just something chill like references of our favorite movie"

And when the relationship is hella serious, I totally can see him getting a very intimate tattoo with your initial on top of his heart on his rib "this way you are always close to my heart, even when you are not by my side"

And the nicknames, petnames ? He is a sucker for it. There is no governement names okay ? Its only babe, love, honey, sunshine (for him). Does he likes matching nicknames ? Hell yes he does, if you call him sunshine than you can be sure you could be nicknamed moonie.

And his Seok Woohyun oppa agenda ? Its real. That part of his personnality comes out whenever he is jealous.

Matthew is a jealous person okay ? Just seeing you too close with another member is enough for him to raise his blood pressure and just death stare his member "Matthew hyung I promise, Jiwoong is not gonna kidnapp them". And when you finally get back by his side the only way to calm him down is to shower him with love and calling him oppa (doesnt matter if you are older, he just likes the way it sounds like coming from your lips).

His seok Woohyun oppa energy is also present whenever things get heated between the two of you.

He is the type to send you thirst trap. Working out at the gym, you deserve a picture. Worked on his biceps, a little picture. A new outfit that he knows you will like ? Photo.

He just likes to show off and see that he has effects on you.

He likes it when you shower him with compliments.

His love can totally be of the quiet one, taking care of you in your shadow even if you dont even notices it. But sometimes it can be loud too, when he always protects your from men when walking in town, holding your hand proudly when he is with his members.

You are his person and he just loves to show off.

On a point of view of dates, Matthew like everything that you can bond over or just for you guys to be close. A cooking class ? He is ready. A day at the theme park ? Already in the car.

But he also likes the quiet type of date, just staying at his dorm or at your place. Cuddled up one against each other, hand on your bottom or on your hips. Or just putting himself behind you to rest his head on your neck and his hand on your stomach. Just enjoying each other's presence and watching movies, animes and dramas together.

Have I mentionned the gossips ? He is always ready to hear all your gossips.

Just picture it, you are coming back from a night out with your friend, and he his just waiting for you to come home, he helps you take off your make-up and putting yourself in comfortable clothes. And you finally go together under the covers where its your turn to rest your head on his torso, he just brushes your hair and tells you to tell him everything. And you just gossip until the both of you falls asleep. And he just loves it. For him its a way to see that you truly trust him and for you, its the sign that he cares about you. Even if you tell him during thirty minutes why its so important that the person you despised in your class got the same top as one of your friend.

Matthew genuiely cares for you, and in every one of his actions he shows it.

#i hope i fed all of your delulu self #because i fed my own delulu ass #i tried to keep it minors friendly so there is nothing innapropriate for kiddos (i hope)#im actually proud of that one #seok matthew #seok matthew type of boyfriend #seok matthew imagine #seok matthew imagines #seok matthew headcanon #seok matthew boyfriend #zb1 imagine #zerobaseone imagine #seok matthew x reader #zb1 #zerobaseone

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locketsvault · 3 months

Text

「 BIRTHDAY DINNER WITH AYATO 」

pairing: ayato kirishima x male reader

tags: male reader reader, established relationship, first person, amab terms used, smut

warnings: sexual content, descriptions of sexual acts

request: hai pookie :3 Its my birthday today, and this is my first time requesting for anything on here, but can you write an ayato and his male s/o doing the deed (ahem...) and him cooking for his s/o on his bday?? Preferably hcs but whatever makes you comfortable <3. (original request found here.)

word count: 838

a/n: I wanted soooo badly to write this the second I got the request, except I got it while suffer by a nasty viral infection and my eyes could barely stay open, I’m so sorry.

It’s surprising just how well this man is at cooking human food. Even he was shocked and kind freaked out. I’m not kidding either, he’s a wonderful cook. And eventually it grows on him as a love language for you.

Which is how your birthday started off simple, yet quite wholesome.

Your apartment was set up for the night, pillows and blankets decorating the couch so you can snuggle and watch him cook. He knew you loved watching, and who could blame you.

Also, screw eating at the dining room table today, he totally brought you your food to eat on the couch. He could care less about manners lmao.

Also also, somehow you managed to talk him into being comfortable enough to eat with you. Ayato is not one to care about freaking humans out or not when eating yk, people, but you’re different. He doesn’t want to scare you off. Yet you’re comfortable with it, and you always reassure him.

You put on a random movie to have on in the background as you both sat on the couch and ate the amazing food.

I should also probably point out there Ayato is not one for extravagance. If others are than fine, but he isn’t. So your apartment is going to be decorated with cute happy birthday signs and balloons. He believes that of service and quality time is all you need. And he isn’t entirely wrong… he just missed one thing.

Somehow during dinner time both of your plates ended up on the coffee table, you in his lap, and him having a burning hard on in less than five minutes. I would say oopsies but was it really?

It didn’t take long for him at all to flip you over on the couch and go down on you. You wanted sex? That’s fine, but since it’s a special day you’re getting extra taken care of. You poor thing.

He started off by sucking you off, which side note, getting a blowjob by this man is heavenly. So I think I’ve said this before, but he runs hot. And that includes his mouth. It’s not scalding hot, but it is hot enough for stimulation. And he knows how to use his mouth. He knows exactly how to pleasure you in the ways that make you curl and scream his name.

Once you’ve came from him giving you a blowjob he swallows by the way he will then work on opening you up for him. Not at the same time, he’s dragging this out and worshiping your body.

This boy… he snickers and smirks at your whines and complaints. He feeds off of it. Genuinely. But he makes up for it by making sure you feel amazing.

As I established before, no condoms. He sees them useless. Oh and, simple missionary because he wants to see your face while also doing all the work and having you under him.

He’s the kind of guy to brace both of his forearms next to your head while connecting your foreheads. And yes, he’s locking eyes with you the entire time, especially when he pushes in the first time.

There’s definitely been times where you’ve had angry sex or just been rough to let off steam, but this is not it, and he wants to make it clear. He’s grateful you were born and that he has you.

He starts off with slow deep thrusts, wanting to feel every inch of you and vice versa. He’ll kiss you a bit rough but still tenderly. You probably feel like you’re going insane by how much he’s drawing it out.

He picks up the pace eventually though, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. Another thing he loves about you, how flexible you’ve become for moments like this. He likes the greedily believe it was all for him.

Now here’s the extra fun part. Ghoul stamina. He can go many rounds and he can keep himself from cumming as quick. You’ll most likely have two more orgasms before he even allows himself one. And he can keep going after that.

His cum btw, is also hot. You can feel it filling you up. Oh, and no, he does not pull out after, especially if you’re going more rounds. He loves filling you up before inevitably watching it leak out of you.

Sex with Ayato is always amazing, but your birthday was probably the best you’ve had since your first time with him. He did everything he could to take care of you. That includes sex all night. You probably got about two hours of sleep? He’s not sorry.

I want to be sappy real fast though, he was probably whispering I love yous and praises on what he loves about you and what you do to him in your ear as your crying out. And considering how much this man can be emotionally constipated, that’s a big deal for him. And it was his birthday gift to you, his love.

#x reader #headcanons #ayato kirishima headcanons #ayato kirishima x reader #ayato x reader #ayato kirishima x male reader #ayato x male reader #tokyo ghoul headcanon #tokyo ghoul x reader #tokyo ghoul x male reader #x male reader

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arcaneauthor · 1 year

Note

I love your writing so much, if it wouldn't be too much trouble could do you something where Ghost and the reader get tattoos together

(kinda like the story where the 2 got tattoos for each other without the other knowing but this time they decide to get one together?)

If not thats 100% okay and I hope you have an Amazing day!

Warnings: None? Needles I guess? But it’s not described. Fluffffff

A/n: Sorry this took so long, my motivation has been 📉 lately. But thank you so much for the kind words and amazing request❤️ Hope you like it! Also this is technically a part 3 to my other story but can be read as a standalone.

-$-

“Would you get another one?” He asks suddenly one day as their sitting at the table, a deck of cards in hand.

Yes you know having poker be your date night activity is strange, but your relationship wasn’t exactly anyones definition of “normal” to begin with. But it was your normal. So, yes, sitting at the table on a Friday night with a group of playing cards in one hand and a take out taco in the other was your definition of a good time, sue you.

You look up from your deck at his question, he still hadn’t looked up from his, “What?”

“A tattoo. Would you ever get another one?” He questions, leaning back in his seat, eyes finally connecting to yours.

“I-I mean I’m not- opposed to the idea, if I found the right one.” You’re still not sure of the meaning of this. The question was so sudden

He hums, nodding his head. Eyes gazing back down at his cards, as if they held all the answers.

You raise an eyebrow, “why?” You drawl out.

He shrugs,“Curious.” Is all you get as response before he stands up, throwing his deck down on the table, “I win.” He proclaims in in a baritone voice, then promptly turns to step out of the room. Your eyes following him in total confusion.

They then flick down to his discarded hand.

A royal flush.

That bastard.

Shaking your head slightly, you can’t help but let a fond smirk overtake your face as your ears catch onto the sound of water pittering against the shower floor.

Your boyfriend, the man of many words.

-$-

About a week later.

“Are we there yet?”

Simon sighs in annoyance, the hand not on the steering wheel rubbing his temple, “You’re not bloody five years old, stop asking me that.”

You give him a pouty lip just for show,”But we’ve been driving forever.”

“Twenty minutes. We’ve drove for twenty minutes.”

That short?… really?

“Well how the heck am I supposed to know that, I can’t d*mn well watch the clock now can I?” You question rhetorically as you lightly tug on the blindfold secured around your eyes for emphasis.

He lightly swats your hand away,”Don’t touch it.”

You huff indignantly, but do lower your hand,”Can you at least tell me where we’re going?”

“No.”

“Oh come on.”

Simon huffs, that seems to be a reoccurring thing for him the last twenty minutes, “Impatient little thing.”

You could’ve swore you heard some fondness in that sentence.

-$-

Around, what you assume to be, ten minutes later, you feel Ghost’s truck gently pull to a stop. Slightly jostling the both of you as you hear the gear shift click into park.

You sit up in your seat,”Are we there?”

“Yes.”

“Oh thank gosh. Can I please take this off now?” You point towards the blind fold,”I don’t know how you wear that mask 24/7, this thing is killer.”

“It’s not that bad.” You can hear his seatbelt click and the sound of his old Ford door creaking open.

“Wait! Can I take this thing off or not?”

“Almost.” The truck shifts as he steps out. Giving a slight rock at the absence of Simon’s massive body weight.

The door shutting cuts off any response you had. For a short split second you think he’s left you, until he opens your door. Ever the gentleman.

You unbuckle and twist around, legs hanging out the door. Now how are you going to do this blind? You try wiggling your foot around, but can’t feel anything but air.

“Uh- could you like guide me to-“

You cut yourself off with a squeal as, without a word, you’re swept out of your seat. Simon picking you up in a bridal carry, one hand under your thighs, the other around your back, as you rap your hands around his neck in a panic.

“Simon-!”

“Every girl wants to be treated like a princess at least once, don’t they?” You can physically hear his smirk.

It’s embarrassing how much that made your heart flutter.

“You could at least warn me first!”

“Then I wouldn’t get to hear that cute little squeak.” He gives a deep chuckle

You’d never admit to the extent of redness that your cheeks turned to.

You’d also never admit how much you like the feeling of his large hands gripping tightly to the bare skin of your thighs. The gentle scrape of his calisced fingers being almost therapeutic. For such a large man, his hold is surprisingly gentle, always is when he’s touching you. Never wanting to bring you any semblance of pain.

Even after all this time, his touch never fails to raise your skin into goosebumps.

“Alright,” his words bring you back from your touch induced daze,”We’re here.” He sets you back onto your feet, your hands lingering around his neck a little longer than necessary.

“Allow me.” You feel his hands reach around the back of your head, fiddling with the knot.

The blindfold slips loose easily underneath his skilled fingers.

Your eyelashes flutter open now that the obscurity is out of the way. Though you’re forced to immediately scrunch them back closed as the light floods your corneas, leaving colorful spots dancing across the back of your eyelids. It’s only after a few tries that you can actually see anything then just a bright white. Vision finally clearing, you take in your surroundings, particularly the building with a big neon sign atop it.

It’s-

The tattoo parlor?

You flick your curious eyes from the sign to Ghost. His face, the upper half that’s not obscured by the black surgical mask, almost looks, dare you say, nervous. Well, maybe not fully nervous, but, slightly unsure of himself?

“Wha-what are we doing here exactly?”

“Well-uh- I thought that, maybe we could get tattoos?”

“But-we already have tattoos?” He made the big deal of blindfolding you, and hauling your a** out of the car to,,get more tattoos. You’d accompanied him to this place multiple times, what’s different now?

“I meant like, together?”

It takes your brain an embarrassingly long time to catch on, your period of silence making Simon’s hesitation only grow.

“Ohhhhh, you mean like-like a couples tattoo.” You feel your smile start to grow as you grab his arm, pulling on it in excitement like a kid in a candy store.

Ghost’s hesitation seems to all but disappear in the face of your happiness, his eyes softening as he observed your childish antics.

“Yeah.” He finally responds breathily, before he remembers something,”I’ve gotta’ picture of the stencils if you wanna-“ He reaches towards his back pocket, though your hand over his stops him. He look up into your eyes, which are shining with love and joy.

“I’m sure whatever you have in mind is perfect.” You lean up on your tiptoes to give him a sweet peck on the cheek,”Thank you.”

You could’ve swore you saw his cheeks turn a little pink, though he doesn’t let you observe him for long before he’s clearing his throat, turning his face away.

He offers his hand to you in invitation,”Ready?”

You smile, placing your hand in his,”Yep!”

-$-

You both take turns since Ghost refuses to use any of the other artists besides Jackson. And refuses to let you use anyone else. Says he trusts him the most, with his whole identity thing and to not hurt you.

Simon won’t even let you in the room during his session, saying that he wants to reveal it after they’re both finished. He sits by your side during your tattooing, holding your hand and making sure you don’t look before it’s finished. Even rubs his hand over your arm when you wince, whispering a little “You got this princess” in your ear.

Jackson wipes the remaining ink residue from your lower arm,”Alright, looks like we’re finished!” He begins cleaning up his tools.

You and Simon turn to look at one another.

“You wanna see em’?” He asks.

You give him a deadpan expression,”No, I wanna wait another hour. Of course I wanna see!” You excitedly sit up on the bench

He fondly shakes his head, and when he speaks, you can hear the smile, “Alright, close your’ eyes for a moment.” An order you immediately comply with.

You hear rustling and then a slight ripping sound, which you assume is him tearing the bandage from his own tattoo if Jackson’s chastisements are anything to go by. Chastisements that Simon, of course, answers with a quick “Stop your bloody worrying, it’ll be fine”

You feel him grab your arm, careful around the tender area, and pull it up in front of you, placing it beside of his.

“You can look.”

You eyes flutter open, even though in the dim parlor lights you’re not nearly as blinded as when you removed the blindfold earlier, it still takes a second for shapes to register. When they do, your gaze immediately latches on to the two arms displayed in front of you. Your breath hitches.

“You like em’?” And there’s that unsureness again. Rearing it’s head in the face of your prolonged silence.

You look at him, eyes hesitant to leave Jackson’s masterpieces, “Like them? I love them!”

You basically tackle him in a hug, again, being careful with your arm, and almost fall off the bench from the momentum. Ghost lets out a little huff of amusement as he catch’s your weight with his other arm, “They’re perfect. Thank you.” You lean back enough to look at him.

He bumps his forehead lightly against yours,”Anything for you, sweetheart.”

The endearment makes you heart jump, a soft smile lighting your face. Every single thing this man does, makes you fall farther and farther in the depths of love.

“Can we please cover them now?” Jackson exclaims from the other side of the room, holding up a roll bandages.

You both burst out in giggles.

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #reader insert #imagines #ghost fluff #ghost fanfiction #call of duty #fanfic #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost cod mw2 #ghost simon riley #request #tattoos

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slocumjoe · 1 year

Note

Hi! I love the quality of You’re work, it’s so good!

Can you do companions react to overhearing sole and someone else talking, and all sole is talking about is how freaking amazing said companion is and how much they love them and about five minutes into the rant sole just pauses and is like “oh God I actually love them”

could you do gage too if you write for him

I studied for this one, y'know, just to do Gage right for once

Anyway, this got so long, i had to use multiple paragraphs per some companions. Whoops.

Companions react to Sole talking themselves into realizing their feelings for them

We're going to assume the feelings are mutual. Featuring non-romancable companions too, because i love yall and want you to eat good 💕

Cait; the C in Cait stands for Crisis. Panics and runs away, doesn't want to hear anymore. Sole being all sweet about her platonically about ripped her in half as is, but...holy shit. She has a chance with them. Cait didn't think this far.

The A in Cait stands for Assessment. She starts doing mental gymnastics. Okay, Sole's previous partner was like this. Cait is/isn't like that. Are they viable? Does she even know how to have a relationship? She and Sole get along very well, already. They're in- ew, no. They want to smang. Yes, that is it. No one wants her for long.

The I in Cait stands for Insecure. Cait has so many goddamn issues, man. After enough thinking, she talks herself out of it. What if she's wrong, what if she hurts them, what if they hurt her? She shouldn't try it. She'll fuck it up, right?

The T in Cait stands for Take the shot, bitch. Mentally, she decides to not pursue anything. This will fly out of the window the moment Sole flirts with her or gives her any opportunity. Cait is impulsive, man. Insecurity doesn't last long around Sole.

Curie; Curie lacks tact. Might be the most likely to just...walk in and confess her feelings too. Regardless. But she might also give them more time to ponder it, seeing as they just figured it out. The weird stuff happening in her chest (joy, confusion, bashfulness, she's learned) might also nerf her for the moment.

In the time it takes for Sole to confess properly to Curie, she'll give them lots of space, so that they can think of it without her influence. Will be painfully obvious to anyone else that she's over the moon, though. Listens to love songs and stares dreamily at the sky. Draws hearts in her notebook. Gets terrifyingly excited whenever Sole talks to her, thinking it'll be the moment. If they take too long though, WILL approach them on her own.

Danse; I'm gonna be honest, second most likely to hit the legs the moment Sole starts talking about him. Danse is not built for praise. Danse isn't even built for people being neutral towards him. And he isn't the type to eavesdrop. So, we have to assume that he gets there, like, right before Sole says it. At which point, most likely to stumble and fall on his ass. Sole hears the commotion and comes to check, only to see Danse hopping a fence, or sprinting down a hallway. So, jig is already up, Sole knows he heard.

But, Danse is 1 letter away from being a different word. What is that word, class? Yes, it's "dense." Will do mental gymnastics to come to conclusion he misheard, or misunderstood, or that Sole was talking about an entirely different person.

However long it takes Sole to approach him about it, will dig himself a hole full of self-loathing, loneliness, and yearning. The longer it goes, the deeper the hole. Sole really needs to just run after him screaming "COME BACK I LOVE YOU" or this is gonna be exhausting for Person C, who had to watch this play out as an outside observer.

Deacon; Flips a coin to decide his next move; run away screaming, or walk in strutting? If he walks in, will loudly start chatting up whoever Sole is talking to about how cool Sole is, and does it in a way that gives off the vibes of "I totally feel the same way but I'm pretending I don't know you feel that way at all". Person C wants to die seeing this.

Will also talk himself out of it like Cait. Deacon doesn't even know who he is, how could Sole? And things with Barbara didn't end too well, because he was an asshole who dragged her into his shit. He's still an asshole, dragging Sole into his shit. But because of who Sole has to be to get this close with Deacon, they're likely to nip this in the bud and approach him ASAP.

Deacon has maybe ten minutes of freaking out before Sole finds him alone and confesses. And he knows this. If Sole wants to confess, they better recognize him through a disguise. He wants to be swept off his feet, and nothing turns him on like Sole seeing through his shitty wigs.

Gage; HITS THE BRICKS. He sticks around for praise because shit, who doesn't like hearing how badass they are? And from the Overboss, no less! The intelligent, tough, sexy Overboss, who makes him melt with just a look. He could listen to them brag about him all day. Hell yeah, tell them how smart he is, how strong he is, how...big his muscles are...? Uh, thanks...but talk about how good his aim is, despite the one—wait, what's this about him being...charming...? ...Handsome? Boss, what are you—WHAT? WHAT? WHAT THE FUCK?! THIS WASNT THE PLAN! RETREAT, RETREAT, RETREAT.

Gage put all of those nasty little feelings into a jar and threw them into the ocean like a civilized person the moment they reared their ugly little heads. And now, Sole just...fucking said that. Not a care in the world, no hesitatation. They—they can't. They just can't do anything there. Inappropriate workplace relationship, it wouldn't be right. And with him? Dirty, old, banged up Gage, fucked up in more ways then he has teeth? When Sole is...Sole? Nah, nah, that...nah. Best not go there. Gets a bad case of the Yearning that makes him cringe.

Talks a big game to himself about how he's not going to do anything about it, fuck that, fuck love, who needs it, but to be honest? All Sole would have to do is invite him in a shower or something and he's dropping the literal and metaphorical pants. A smart raider doesn't turn his nose up at a good thing dropping right in his lap. That...might also be literal, in this case.

Hancock; Unlike Deacon or Curie, who consider barging in, Hancock does it. He's so shocked, touched, scared, etc, that he puts on the persona and follows its lead. He walks in, chats like normal, teases, makes no indication that he knows. Everything is normal. It didn't happen. If it did, they didn't mean it.

Whenever he remembers it later, immediately distracts himself. Cuts back on chems because he keeps thinking about it on them. Lets his mind wander. Sole is too good for him, Sole deserves better, and Sole can do better. In this state, Hancock's walls are so high up and reinforced, Sole is gonna need a real bulldozer of a confession to knock them down. I recommend a moonlit dinner with music. Something to let him know that they mean business.

MacCready; It takes a good, long time for him to realize what he heard. In the moment, his brain (likely in a bid for self-preservation) locks up. He shrugs and wanders off, forgets about it. It'll be, like, a week later, and he and Sole will be talking, and it'll come rushing back to him. The shutdown happens again, and this repeats until MacCready thinks about it for a moment.

When he realizes what they said, screams into the nearest pillow, mostly because he's been an idiot for...way too long. Has a crisis. What about Lucy? What about Duncan? What about Shaun? What about Sole? Much like Danse, Sole needs to come get their man quickly, before he spooks himself out of getting some. He wants to, but is it time for that? He'll come around once Sole figures themselves out and goes to him.

Nick; The only one who will go out of his way to approach Sole later and confess himself. He's an adult with functional interpersonal skills. He's not going to kick the door down and drop his pants, and he's not going to run away and fake his death just to avoid talking about it.

Nick gets his thoughts in order, waits for Sole to not be busy, and goes for it. If Sole would be embarrassed, doesn't mention that he heard. Nick probably starts real traditional, gets flowers and candy or something. A little courting gift, as is gentlemanly. Nick knows the importance of skipping the tomfoolery and getting down to business, but he's a sentimental man. And besides, Sole deserves to be pampered, and treated right, if they're going to do this.

Also, Nick is Person C with the other companions. And he fucking knows they sit there and eavesdrop, wants to die when Sole confesses their feelings when the object of them is right there. But also, kinda lives for it. His name is Valentine, of course he's a romantic.

Piper; Piper has a taste for the theatrical, and right now, she's thinking of what she would want as Person C. And She, in C's position, would lose her mind if the Person B walked in and loudly proclaimed their feelings for Sole. Also, it's the first thing she thinks to do, too shocked to stop and think. So Piper does it, God bless.

Well, kind of. She charges in, only to cough and awkwardly tell Sole they should talk, red as her coat. Person C (Nick) appreciates this greatly, even if she stumbled on the landing.

Anyway, there's no wistful wondering. They get this shit figured out ASAP. Piper is also impulsive, and thank God for that. Sole is also red as her coat and they go back and forth teasing each other relentlessly. Lots of squealing and incoherent noises.

Preston; Much like Nick, goes for it...but not for a while. He takes time to think it over. After all, Sole is his general, they have a lot going on, he himself has a lot going on...he has logistics to work through. Likely to make a corkboard planning it out. Will he be able to provide the needed emotional labor? Goes to Nick/Person C and ask their opinion. Nick takes one look at the corkboard and tells him Sole is his friend, not a damn supply route.

Heeding Nick's advice, also approaches it traditionally. He invites Sole to a personal, off-the-record meeting late at night. Sole finds their favorite dish, music, and Preston in a tux that Nick would have advised against if he knew about it. But Preston talks about his feelings, confesses, wants to try if Sole is willing. Obviously they are.

X6-88; Decides No. Simply No. He vanishes and refuses to think about it. Sole is his Director. He is a synth, a courser, a machine. He shouldn't have these feelings anyway, but to act on them? To have them reciprocated? Oh no. No, no, no, that won't do. It goes against everything he believes.

He doesn't think about it at all. If Sole brings it up, he will initially reject them out of shock, because he genuinely is not ready to even consider it, let alone agree. Forget matters of compatibility, there is so much red tape around this, and if he trips over it, he risks his life, his position, even Sole, if the other Board Members take enough umbrage.

Sole has to do so much heavy lifting to get him to feel safe enough to think about the possibility. Not even if he wants to, if its possible. After that...X6-88 is not meant for such things. He's never done it before. Sole will expect and need things he can't provide. What if they want sex? He most certainly doesn't. What if they want comfort? His brain isn't built for that. What if they want him to change, better himself? He's not supposed to change, he wouldn't be a courser if he could.

This relationship would take so many baby steps. But he won't forget that Sole, for some reason he can't parse, feels the same way. For something they shouldn't see as a person, but do. And...they like the person they see. It...Sole is going to be dealing with a crisis, down the line.

#fo4 #fallout 4 #paladin danse #preston garvey #piper wright #nick valentine #x6-88 #robert joseph maccready #companions react #hancock #GAGE STANS COME AND GET ME I TOOK NOTES ON THIS FUCKER #HE IS A COWARD MAN WHO STINKS #THE BITCH FLEES THE SCENE I KNOW I'M RIGHT I WENT THROUGH ALL OF HIS DIALOGUE #porter gage

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ardentcastle · 2 months

Text

Fic List

Hello. I write Polin fanfic. Here's links to some stuff.

WIP(s)

Returning To You:

It's a regular Friday for Colin Bridgerton. When a knock at his door changes everything. ‘My name is Agatha Featherington. I have reason to believe you are my father.’

Complete - Multi Chapter

please, burn my world down

Colin chuckled. ‘Please. I could have you screaming my name in minutes.’ ‘Prove it then.’ Nope. She hadn’t meant to say that part out loud. Not at all. — — Penelope and Colin used to be friends. Now they can barely exist in the same room without starting an argument. What was supposed to be a relaxing girls trip at Aubrey Hall quickly turned into something else for Penelope.

Waking Up In Vegas

'Eloise, tell me. Please,' she begged. She needed to know, what could possibly have her friend so worried about her, and Colin looking like he was about to pass out. What happened? Eloise sighed. 'You really don't remember marrying Colin last night?' 'Excuse me, what?' ———— The fic where they get drunk and marry in Vegas.

Between Us

The first time was an accident, it just… happened. The second time was testing the waters, was the first a fluke or not? Neither of them have a real excuse for the third, and the fourth, well, by the fourth time they’d finally started to sort their shit out. OR Three times Colin and Penelope got drunk and had sex and a fourth where they were completely sober.

Breakable Heaven

It was messed up. She knew it was. But from the day it had started she hadn't been strong enough to put an end to it. She was never going to have Colin Bridgerton. Not really. He was too… and so… and she was… Just Penelope. Dorky friend of the younger sister. So if she couldn’t have him in the way she wanted, she would take any piece she could get.

--- Colin and Penelope have fallen into a messy and complicated friends with benefits situation, that only gets even moreso when Penelope has another man showing interest and she and Colin are thrown into forced proximity.

One Shots

Ruining Lady Whistledown

‘I do not understand, how it is I can be furious with you. So angry at what you have done, and yet, desire you as much as I do,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t. I wish I could turn away from you. Forget what it was like to taste you, to feel you, to have you. I cannot.’ Season 3, Episode 8 - Colin didn’t leave the bedroom after going in to get the blanket. //Pt 2 - Penelope writes a Whistledown column for Colin's eyes only

Go Through The Motions

I could coach you.' 'What?' her head snapped up to his, her eyes wide with surprise. 'I could… I mean, I could show you a few different ways so that you don't feel so out of your depth,' 'You want to show me different sex positions?' her voice was disbelieving. 'Yes,' Polin Week Day 2 Prompt: Lessons - Colin offers to help out his friend when she’s nervous for an upcoming date.

wasn't for you

Penelope: Oh my god it's been so long since I've been laid. I just want to get totally dicked, you know? Completely meaningless sex where I'm absolutely pounded until I forget my own name. Colin: ??? Penelope: Oh my god. Colin: You want to forget your name? Penelope: that text wasn't for you Penelope accidentally sends a text message, meant for the girls chat to Colin instead and things get… interesting for them.

Twelve Years of Christmas

If there’s one thing Penelope and Colin will do, no matter where they are, who they’re with, or what has happened between them, it is message each other on Christmas Day. Text messages from twelve Christmas days over the years as they grow up.

The Road Not Taken (looks real good now)

It’s that time of year. When the tether she has to this small town pulls her back. It doesn’t matter where she is on this planet. She ends up back here. For five days she will imagine what her life might have been like if she never left. Based loosely on Taylor Swift’s ‘tis the damn season

Of Snowball Fights and Discovering Delights

Penelope is spending Christmas at Aubrey Hall this year. An annual Bridgerton snowball fight accidentally leads to a lot more than she ever hoped. --------- 'I've never kissed anyone. I might be bad at it.' 'I think that would be impossible.'

The Holiday Party

Quickly Penelope pressed play on the music video and it started, and with the more she watched, the more the heat in her rose and rose. He was singing about her. Normally she wouldn’t be so presumptuous. She wouldn’t assume. But right now, as the video played out how they met, there was no doubt at all. Colin Bridgerton wrote a song about her. Colin Bridgerton is a superstar. Penelope works a standard 9 to 5 and lives a quiet life. When Colin is performing at her work Christmas party, she captures his eye. And there is no turning back for either of them from there. No matter how hard Penelope tries to resist, and convince herself it couldn't possibly be happening.

Under Me

'Hey, you tried to call me?' he said. 'I tried to…' she trailed off. Oh fuck. In a sudden flash what she'd done came back to her. She had completely forgotten, most of the night was a drunken haze. The voicemail she'd left. The things she'd said. _______ In which Pen leaves Colin a revealing voicemail and can't take it back

Look At Your Face

Colin starts loosing his mind, when on the Bridgerton's annual summer holiday Penelope is comfortable talking to everyone, except him. Any time he tries she suddenly needs to be somewhere else (she's had a laugh with Anthony of all people! But won't so much as look Colin's way) and he's going insane trying to work out why she's ignoring him. There's a game of never have I ever that reveals a lot, and eventually Colin finds the nerve to confront her about her silence towards him. Loosely inspired by Taylor Swift's Gorgeous and in particular 'I can't say anything to your face, cause look at your face'.

Inescapable

The ton is at Aubrey Hall for a Bridgerton Ball. Colin finds Penelope in his room -- 'Pen? Why are you in my room?' He asked. She appeared to be frozen to the spot. Her mouth slightly open, and a flush that started on her cheeks spread down towards her chest. Colin brought his eyes back up to hers the moment he realised he was a bit too transfixed on what her hands couldn't hide from him. 'I was told I would be retiring here.' She finally said, her voice was soft, shaky. 'You must be mistaken.' Colin said.

#polin fanfiction #bridgerton fanfiction #this took way too long to do #I didn't even include everything #anyway thought i'd compile a list #i don't know what i'm doing here tbh #polin fanfic

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