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luveline · 2 years

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idk if you've done anything like this but maybe a rockstar!james where he introduces his relationship to the world/his fans ?

this was SO FUN tysm for your request! ♥ fem!reader | 1.1k words

James had asked specifically before he did what he did if it was okay. You love him and think it's sweet that he wants to, so you tell him to make sure he uses a good picture.

Some huge magazine had asked him to do a video for their website. You know vaguely when it gets uploaded because suddenly friends and even acquaintances are texting you repetitively. It's not long after that when The Marauders superfans start requesting to follow your twitter account. You'd set it to private beforehand, though there was nothing of interest there anyways, only retweets and Spotify links. You're glad you did when the notifications start and don't stop.

You turn off your phone and open up your laptop, navigating to the magazine's website, where the front page boasts your pretty boyfriend's face right at the top. You click the video link and wait for it to load, heartbeat as quick as a mouse's.

The introduction is quick. James sits behind a white table wearing a black, nondescript short-sleeved t-shirt. His fancy watch catches the light as he leans forward. "Hey, I'm James Potter from the rock band The Marauders, and today I'll be showing you guys what's in my bag."

He picks up a much cleaner version of his rucksack, new for the shoot. His actual rucksack sits at the bottom of your bed. You move your socked feet out of the way so you can compare it to the fraud on screen. It'll be fun to poke fun at him tonight over his lies.

There's not a lot of guidance to the video. He takes things out one at a time and gives some story behind them. There's a battered pair of drumsticks and a cleaner pair swiftly follows. James goes through them quickly, so a spare is always a good idea. The drumsticks are followed by a piece of drum gum in a plastic case, and a wrist brace for his dicky left arm.

He pulls out his chapstick with a subtle smirk.

"And my book," he says, pulling out a messed up paperback. You roll your eyes when you see it because it's not his book at all, it's yours, and he's wrecked it completely.

A bookmark sticks out about halfway through. "I got this recommended to me by a very pretty girl. Beautiful women seem to always have the best taste in books. I don't have to tell you guys," he says with a wink. He puts the book with everything else he's unveiled so far. "And it's a damn good book."

You flush warm with pleasure.

He pulls out some amazingly expensive headphones, an adapter for his electric drum kit, a different pair of noise cancelling headphones, his custom earplugs, his phone charger – again, new for the shoot – and a familiar notebook.

"This is for everything." He pulls it open to a random page and broadcasts what's clearly not his own handwriting. "I hate transcribing. Remus has done it for me here," he confides. "You have to love him."

You can imagine the twitter uproar as fans sing the band's bassist's praises. You do have to love Remus, he's an angel, and you'll have to have a word with James about taking advantage of his friend's kindness.

He turns it to another page. There's a sketch there of a tree you don't really recognise. James draws a lot, more than you could ever keep track of. He's even painted you a landscape or two in heavy gauche before, gifts with awfully sweet dedications on the back.

He's very good. "For sketching and things. This was a sycamore outside of the Point House arena. It had those helicopter seeds falling from it. You remember when you'd pick those up as a kid and throw them back up into the air?"

The camera person says something and James nods passionately. "Right, we'd have races too! Simpler times."

It cuts to James pulling out his wallet and his phone. They ask to see his phone wallpaper and he obliges. It's a photo of him and Sirius as kids. They could only be thirteen or fourteen in the photograph, but already Sirius holds his wicked charm like a knife, a sharp smile and a sharper gaze, though his arm around James shoulder is languidly placed.

"Yep, he's always been like that."

And finally, his wallet. It's nothing fancy. You can't afford anything as quality as he could himself but he hasn't tried to replace it since you bought it. He peels it open and makes a joke about nobody stealing his identity.

He smiles wide. "Here's the most important thing in my bag. No, not my card."

He pulls a piece of white paper from the fold between deft fingers and then turns it to reveal you, a photo of you.

You'll admit you look pretty. There's nothing fanciful to it, just you giving him a soft smile with your hair done up, your head tilting ever so slightly toward your lifted shoulder.

"This is my girl." He pulls your photo toward him and looks down over the top, no bravado, no charming comment. He smiles at you. "Doesn't she look nice here?"

The camera person says something again. James looks up, waiting for them to finish before he grins.

"Yeah, this is my girlfriend. Y/N."

There's subtitles for the camera person's next question. "This is the first time you've talked about having a partner publicly. Why now?"

The truth is just the unfortunate consequence of fame. Smear campaigns, hatemail, paparazzi, invasions of privacy. But you can't hide forever. And it feels nice – feels incredible, like your cheeks might bruise from the ache of your smile – to be shown off.

"'Cos I wanna take her on vacation for our six months, and I want the first photo people see of her to be this one, rather than her drooling on my arm in the airport."

You laugh.

"Six months, you've been together?" the camera person asks.

"And counting. Best six months of my life."

The interview moves on. There's a few layover shots of the bag's contents. You can't help but feel embarrassed at your face on a clear display next to his wallet, though a binging notification catches your attention before you can pick it apart.

You click on the notification, an email. It opens, James' voice in the background talking about the new album.

It's unsurprisingly from loverboy himself.

Answer your phone!!!!! sent from my iPhone.

You email him back. I've had to turn it off.

Oh fuck. Are you okay?

You pull the email tab to the side and watch James smile and say goodbye to everyone watching.

Yeah, I'm perfect. Facetime me?

On you like a rash.

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #marauders era #marauders #james potter blurb #james potter imagine #james potter drabble #james potter dialogue #james potter #james potter x fem!reader #fem!reader #drummer!james #rockstar!au #rockstar!james potter

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farfromstrange · 3 months

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Do No Harm

CHAPTER EIGHT: First-Date Jitters

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: It's time for your date with the beautiful stranger from the hospital, and you are beyond nervous. Still, you're already in too deep to pull out now, so, you jump into the cold water and learn how to swim.

Warnings for this chapter: Angst, comfort, some first-date cliché behavior, mentions of domestic violence (in thought), foreshadowing (?), flirting, physical contact, suggestive language (slightly), Matt's charisma uniqueness nerve and talent

Word Count: 5.3k

A/n: This flirty little shit won't leave my mind. Anyway, my plan was for this chapter to be one continuous chapter, but it got so long that I had to cut it into 2 parts (or this beast would have been 10k words). That’s why you’re getting a double update today. I tried not to put too much angst into this. It's still angsty, but there is a lot of comfort for the angst and the hurt to compensate for it, and I think that's beautiful. I don’t know about the writing though.

Read Chapter 8: First Date Jitters here on AO3

Many questions naturally come to mind when one is preparing for a date. How will you get there? Who will pay? What could you possibly talk about that has a high chance of boring neither of you? The question you find yourself grappling with the most though is, what the fuck are you supposed to wear?

After spending years trapped in a cage, your self-confidence took quite a hit. You used to feel somewhat satisfied with the way you looked, but John always had something to criticize. Your weight, your hair, your facial features—nothing was ever good enough for him. After breaking down your walls and making you believe that you were the best thing that ever happened to him, he knew how to manipulate you best. At least he looked at you. You were grasping at straws, holding onto the vision of a man who was never real, and you forgot your worth along the way.

“Wear that dress you borrowed from me and never gave back,” Claire says on the other end of the line.

You sigh. You have been staring at your closet for an hour now, and you haven’t come further than picking out what underwear to wear. With shaky fingers, you reach for the dress. You know exactly which one she meant.

“Are you sure I should wear a dress?” you ask. “I mean, it’s kinda cold outside.”

“That’s why they invented tights and over-knee socks. Oh, and maybe wear those heart-shaped earrings I got you for your birthday. They look good on you.”

You scan the dress with careful eyes. You’ve barely slept after getting home, and now your head is pounding. Earlier, you sent Matt a text, confirming the time and place for the umpteenth time, but as half-past two is inching closer on the clock, the unease is starting to creep deeper into your bones.

You promised Claire not to cancel, but that doesn’t take away the fear and the sheer agony you feel inside when you think about all the things that could go wrong. Alone the thought of facing Matt’s gorgeous smile in a different setting than the hospital sends a shiver down your spine, and it’s not fully pleasant.

But no. You swore you wouldn’t give John what he wants, and he surely would be punching the air if he knew that you couldn’t stop thinking about him. He would celebrate if he knew that you just can’t seem to get over what he did to you. Then again, if he knew where you are now, the only thing getting punched would be you. He might even kill you. God knows he’s capable of unspeakable things.

His name is too prominent in your mind: his face, his voice, his scent. You need to drown him out. You need to stop making everything about him. It isn’t healthy. And Claire was right when she told you that it’s a good thing another man—a good man, at that—is making you feel things you long couldn’t because you were too scared to allow yourself to feel even the slightest hint of affection.

You have to honor your promise to yourself and see where this date might take you. Matt is gentle. He won’t mind if you’re a little nervous. Hell, he won’t even mind if you wear a pair of sweatpants instead of this stupid dress, but you can’t deny that you still want to put yourself together and appear in something other than a pair of medical scrubs.

The dress you borrowed from Claire is a good fit for your skin tone and body type, you can’t deny that. It has turned heads before. You wore it to one of the fundraising campaigns Metro General sometimes hosts—it was summer then, a lot warmer than it is now, and you were toying around with the kids that came with their parents in Central Park. You were in charge of the games that day. One of the firefighters complimented you, but he was respectful about it, and his partner even asked you for a drink, but you declined both of them. They weren’t your type, although they were nice. It’s a fond memory that momentarily eases your anxiety.

Matt is nice, and he’s your type. You know he’s your type even after years of unlearning what your type even used to be. It’s not a coincidence that the two of you got along so well when you first met, and that he cared so much the other day when you got hurt.

Fuck. You realize you’re going to need to cover your nose with concealer. Not because Matt would care—he surely wouldn’t—but you don’t want to be looked at weirdly by the barista of your favorite coffee shop. That would be embarrassing.

“Liv?” Claire’s voice breaks through your downward spiral.

You snap out of it, throwing the dress on the bed. “Yeah, I’m here,” you mumble, working at your pajamas that you still haven’t changed out of. “I’m wearing the dress.” There is a certainty in your voice that surprises you.

You want to wear this dress. You want to go out with Matt. And you want to turn his head, even if you can’t do it with your looks. Looks are hardly all that matters, anyway. You have to remind yourself that he sees your mind, hears your voice, and has a different view of your soul than others. That’s what matters. That is all that should matter. You just have to make sure that you smell good or he will probably be appalled, considering blindness comes with heightened senses. If only you knew how heightened they truly are.

Your friend lets out a happy little, “HA!”

You shake your head, putting her on speaker, and changing out of your pajamas into the dress. You only have a handful of tights in your closet, and not a single pair of over-knee socks, but a pair of tights and your favorite boots should do the trick.

“Trust me,” Claire says, “one look at you in that dress, you’re gonna turn that guy’s head.” She sniffles, and you wonder how much longer she is going to torture herself with that cat.

“I’m not so sure my looks are going to matter much,” you say.

“Most people say looks don’t matter to them, but unless you solely fall in love with another person’s mind, looks will always play a part in how we perceive someone.”

“No, I meant that quite literally.” You pull the dress over your head. “I’m only dressing up to feel good about myself ‘cause looks definitely don’t matter to him.”

“How can you be sure?” she retorts.

You slip into a fresh pair of tights, some socks, and a pair of biking shorts underneath. “Did I not mention Matt’s blind?”

Silence follows your sentence. A pregnant pause. You said it so nonchalantly, you didn’t think anything of it. And why would you? It’s a part of him. It’s not unimportant—definitely not, considering that life works differently for him than it does for you—but it’s also not the only thing about him.

“Blind?” Claire’s voice is slightly shaky when she asks.

You frown at your phone screen while slipping into your favorite boots. “Yes, blind,” you say. “Although we didn’t get around to discussing his condition. I mean, medically, there is probably nothing I haven’t seen or heard before. I just didn’t think of asking him, “Hey, how’d it happen? Is it complete blindness? Amaurosis? Congenital?” Even I know that it’s not appropriate to ask someone you just met about their medical history. It’s something he has to want to talk about, not the other way around. I don’t expect full disclosure from a stranger like I do from my patients. And we both know dating a patient would be highly unethical.”

“I—” she cuts herself off.

One look at the time tells you that you’re already running late. If you want to catch your bus, you have to leave in the next five minutes. You slide the last of your heart-shaped earrings into your earlobe.

“Listen, Claire, if that’s all you have to say, I should go. I can’t miss my bus,” you say.

Her behavior may strike you as odd, but your mind is currently preoccupied with other things. You can’t pay much mind to the tone of her voice or the pronunciation of her words, or there is a chance you might not make it to your coffee date after all because you will be stuck in another downward spiral of overthinking.

She exhales. “I—okay, yeah. I’m sorry. It’s probably nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she agrees. “Go. Have fun. Just… be careful.”

The way she says it makes the hairs on your arms stand up. “I will.” Your eyebrows still furrowed in a frown. “I’ll call you later.”

The line clicks when you hang up, trying not to let the absurdity of the situation get to you. You have plans, and you have to stick to them.

With a swift shake of your head, you touch up your hair and makeup, assuring that the discoloration of your bruised nose looks less severe than it is before you grab your coat, your bag, and your phone, and you make your way out.

You’re not overdressed, but you still feel like you’re standing out of the crowd when you get on the bus. The bus driver pays no attention to you, and neither do the other passengers, but somehow all eyes are still on you. Maybe you should have gone for a pair of jeans instead? A longer dress? A shorter dress? Less cleavage? Maybe something a little less tight? A sweater would have worked nicely too, you’re sure. What if you get off at the next stop, hurry back to change, and arrive a little later than planned?

Matt probably won’t be on time either. He wanted to meet up half an hour later. That sounds like the kind of guy who needs a little more time, someone who struggles to be on time. Or maybe he’s the complete opposite of the picture you painted of him in your mind, and Claire’s reaction has something to do with it. It makes no sense—it absolutely makes no fucking sense, and you should stop worrying about things that don’t make any fucking sense whatsoever, but you can’t. You are physically incapable of stopping the spiral on your own.

Time stops when you overthink, and it’s only when more people start leaving the bus that you realize you have long missed the chance to get out, run back home, and change. You’re almost in the city, almost where your favorite coffee shop is located that you suggested to him and he agreed on, and there is no going back from here.

You don’t know where to put your hands. They’re shaking. Your heart is beating out of your chest. The sweat in your pores is threatening to drip down your temples, it feels like, and you’re starting to worry whether or not he will be able to smell how nervous you are. Your stomach is in knots. You can’t swallow the lump in your throat because it has lodged itself between your esophagus and your larynx. It’s too much—too loud, too hot, too everything. You just want to turn around and run. You want to disappear into the ground, melt into a puddle, and stay there.

When you look up toward the entrance of the coffee shop, he’s standing there. He’s on time. No, he’s early. The clock on your phone reads 2:28 pm. You wouldn’t have expected him to be so punctual. It scares you.

Your brain starts to secrete even more cortisol—should you run or should you fight? Fight might be the wrong word to use. It is more of a 'should you or should you not face a situation your inner demons don't want to face' dilemma.

The sudden wave of anxiety that washes over you mixes with a strange sizzling of excitement and a certain warmth that starts to build in your core. The feeling is much stranger than what you’re used to, and it makes you vibrate. Or at least it feels like you’re vibrating. Levitating. Dying. Maybe you’re having a heart attack.

Don’t be ridiculous, you think to yourself. You’re a doctor. You’re not having a heart attack. What you’re sure of though is that, if you start breathing even shallower, you will get a panic attack.

He looks good. Too good. His suit fits him perfectly. You wonder how much he spends to get his suits tailored so that he can breathe and move around freely, and still look fucking dashing whenever he sets foot outside. For someone who does mostly pro-bono work, he knows how to dress himself.

Matt is standing away from the many people crossing the sidewalk. He’s supporting himself on his cane, his red round glasses framing his sharp features perfectly. He has the kind of cheeks you just want to squeeze, yet his jawline is sharp enough to cut yourself on it. He hasn’t shaved in a few days, so his stubble is a lot more prominent. The locks on his head seem so soft, and he keeps the rest of him clean, too—you wouldn’t expect anything less from someone who has heightened senses due to the lack of one of the most crucial ones.

The way his muscles tense under his suit catches your attention. Your breath hitches again, and this time not because you’re nervous and worried out of your mind. His biceps are straining against the sleeves of his coat, and it seems like his chiseled chest is about to pop the buttons of his dress shirt, but it still fits perfectly enough to keep every sliver of skin hidden from the world.

Taking a deep breath, you close the distance between you. “Matt?” your voice cracks when you call his name.

He tilts his head in your direction. It doesn’t even take him a full second, nor does he pretend that he has trouble making you out of the sea of people. He probably has done this quite a few times. You can’t blame him. He’s an attractive man.

You wonder what would happen if he was yours. Women would still want him, and you would have to have faith. You wouldn’t consider yourself an overly jealous person, but the thought of having to compete makes your stomach churn. You feel so far out of his league that it doesn’t even cross your mind that you would be his as much as he would be yours, and it is no relationship if you feel like you have to compete with other women.

A part of you believes that he is the kind of man to pay undivided attention to the person he cares about, but who is to say that you are worth his attention? Who’s to say that he wouldn’t run at the first chance to be with someone less damaged, someone who’s beautiful in a different way, and someone who can give him peace instead of whatever mess you can offer him.

But then he smiles at you, and your worries are momentarily forgotten.

“Liv, hi,” he says. You shudder at the smooth sound of his voice. His hand reaches out, but he misses your arm. A slight frown finds its way onto his face as if he’s thinking to himself, ‘I’m usually better than this.’

You take a step closer. He finally gets a hold of your forearm. “I hope it’s you I’m touching and not some stranger with similarly soft forearms.”

Soft. He just called you soft. You have never been called that before. The giggle that escapes you makes you wonder where you left your brain this morning.

The left side has turned itself off entirely, leaving the right side of your brain in charge. This is the worst idea you’ve ever had. You’re already a mess. How are you supposed to survive the afternoon with him and only him? It feels like he’s staring right into your soul, which is impossible, but the glasses don’t give you insight into beautiful brown eyes, and that makes you wonder how he does it. How does he stare you down without actually staring you down?

You clear your throat. “No, it is me,” you answer. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he says again. The grin doesn’t leave his lips. He lets go of your arm, seemingly having oriented himself.

“Hi,” is all you can say. You miss his touch. It wasn’t even—or at least not mostly—because he wanted to touch you. He did it because there are so many people around you and he needed to know where exactly you stand. You can only imagine the anxiety that he’s feeling.

His smile turns into a smirk. “Hi.” He’s not making this easier on you. “How are you?” Matt finally puts you out of your misery.

What is the appropriate thing to answer? Good? Nervous? That you feel like you’re dying from a heart attack? Or that you miss his hand on your soft forearm?

“I’m–” you take a deep breath. “I’m good,” you say. “How’re you?”

He nods. “I’m alright, thank you.”

Your eyes flick down to the hand on his cane. He has his head tilted in your direction, his attention entirely on you. He adjusts his glasses. His smile turns into a softer expression of concern, and it makes your heart jump.

“You seem nervous,” he observes.

“I guess you could say that,” you admit. You can’t even stop the words before they tumble out of your mouth. “I don’t usually do this. You know, go on dates.”

“Really? Oh. I kind of figured men were lining up to get even a second of your attention, or trying to, at least.”

The blood rushes to your cheeks again. “Oh, I—No, they don’t do that.” Your head is spinning.

You always appear unapproachable, or so you’ve heard. You don’t know if it’s the way you look at people or the way you behave. Perhaps they get scared that they will burn themselves on your burning defenses. You wouldn’t put it past them. You have pushed what little advances people have made on you in the past two years away because you were scared of burning yourself, and you weren’t interested in trying to mend that. With Matt, that’s different.

If men were lining up to be with you, your first response would surely be to flee, and not because of your personal issues with the opposite sex. You would flee out of natural instinct.

Matt clears his throat. “I’m terrible at getting hints. If I’m making you uncomfortable or you think you made the wrong choice by coming here, I wouldn’t blame you for leaving,” he says.

He’s giving you a choice—an out. That alone makes the blood in your cheeks spread faster, and your palms start sweating. You don’t want to go.

“No,” you quickly shake your head. “I’m not uncomfortable.”

“Are you sure?”

You reach out, boldly so, and take his hand in yours. “Yes. Am I making you uncomfortable?” you ask.

Matt swallows thickly. His Adam’s apple bops as he tries to get rid of the lump in his throat. His fingers twitch when you wrap your own around his and place them against your forearm again. If you look close enough, you might even see a soft sheen of sweat on his forehead.

The silence persists for a few seconds. “No,” he answers then. “You simply have a way of, um...taking my breath away.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all.” He tightens his grip. His lips open, and he stammers for a moment before he finds his words again. “I find it refreshing. It’s not often I meet someone who can knock me off my feet, so…” Breaking off into a chuckle, Matt lowers his head to adjust his glasses once again.

The way he’s fidgeting with his fingers tells you that you’re not the only nervous one out of the two of you. Maybe the fact that you render him speechless affects him more than he lets on. He seems like the kind of guy who likes to be in control because he feels like he has to be or the world might end. You know that feeling all too well.

It would be so much easier if he wasn’t so charming, but if it were easy and he wasn’t so charming, you would still feel utterly alone in this life. New beginnings are supposed to feel better than an unhappy ending. New beginnings are supposed to offer a chance at happiness, and even though you are a little late with trying to find your way back to civilization after keeping yourself locked in a cage of someone else’s making for so long, there is a chance now. A chance that you have to take.

The easy way out would be to turn around and forget you ever met him, but Matt deserves better, and so do you. The easy way out would hurt too much.

You lick your lips absentmindedly. He sucks in a sharp breath. You’re a lot more sensitive to the behavior of others than a normal person would be. Is he attracted to you? Do you turn him on? Those are questions that make your head spin worse than it has been ever since you laid eyes on him.

“I’m sorry,” you break the awkward silence, your voice breathless. “It seems like the feeling is mutual.”

Your confidence is starting to build, convincing you that you can do this. And maybe you can. You’re not leaving him cold, that much is sure when you take a moment to analyze his body language.

His thumb brushes over your forearm. He seems so much more experienced than you, and he keeps his composure in a way you can’t relate to. You are dying inside, and the blood is pumping in your cheeks while leaving the rest of your body cold. Except for your very core; you can feel the heat starting to spread through your core, shooting between your legs just from the way he touches you.

You thought this would be an innocent coffee date—you were wrong. Your body is as desperate for a physical connection as your soul yearns for an emotional connection. It’s a strange combination of needs that hits you at once and with full force. And it is all directed at him. This guy you barely know but has turned your head every single time you have met him.

You’re fucked.

Matt smirks, as though he knows something that you do not. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he murmurs.

“The fact that you knocked me off my feet?” you ask dumbfounded. You’re glad he can’t see your face because that would be utterly embarrassing.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “that.”

You want to scream, 'God, you’re hot,' but you would rather not embarrass yourself in front of him like that. His smirk makes it hard to focus, but if you don’t want to spend the rest of the afternoon on the sidewalk, staring at him while he holds onto your forearm, one of you has to start moving.

“Do you want to go inside?” you ask.

“Yeah. Lead the way,” he says.

You gently slide his hand from your forearm into your own. You wish you could see his eyes right now. Are those beautiful hazel eyes with emerald specks in them sparkling? You saw how expressive they were when you patched him up. They were unfocused and pained, but they also reminded you of an array of stars. It’s probably unintentional, but his eyes give away how he’s feeling at any given time, and that, to you, is one of the most beautiful qualities he could possess because it means that he’s real. He can’t lie because his eyes would give them away.

His glasses don’t make Matt hard to read, but they sure make you miss the universe you got to stare into a few days ago. It felt like a privilege.

He keeps his cane pressed tightly to his chest, using the tip to check the small radius around him while he holds on tightly to your hand, trusting you to guide him where he needs to go without putting him at risk.

“Door,” you tell him as you make your way into the café. You hold it open, and he uses his cane to make sure he doesn’t accidentally bump into you or the doorframe.

Just as you’re about to enter, a couple comes at you. You twirl around, placing a hand on his waist and pulling him a bit closer to you before someone can bump into him. He raises his eyebrows.

“Oh,” he exclaims when the couple apologizes for not looking, and he tilts his way back in your direction, Your hands are still on his waist, standing closer to you than ever before. His cheeks flush. Got him. “Thank you,” he stammers, but not without letting out a chuckle that resembles a small giggle.

Your heart melts, and you damn Matt Murdock for not only being a walking wet dream but for being so kindhearted and adorable. And why does he smell so good?

“No problem,” you answer breathlessly.

“It helps that one of us isn’t blind, huh?”

It’s your turn to laugh. “It’s a big responsibility if you’re seeing for two, so I try to take it seriously.”

His giggle turns into a laugh that comes deep from his chest, but it still sounds like a soft symphony you might hear playing on a spring day. “Yeah,” Matt says, “You’re taking it very seriously.”

“I’d call myself your knight in shining armor, but I believe that comparison is outdated and wrong since you don’t need saving.”

“I wouldn't mind being saved by you.”

You open your mouth, but the only thing that comes out is a startled breath. “Okay, now you’re just trying to make me blush.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

He smirks. “I wouldn’t get anything out of making you blush, but I do enjoy hearing the smile in your voice whenever I compliment you. So, maybe that’s what I’m doing.”

“Oh.”

“Your smile sounds nice. Beautiful. It’s how I, uh, see you. And you’re calm. I—the world is often too loud, you know, and your voice is a welcome distraction from all the, uh, noise. Helps me relax. If you know what I mean.”

If he keeps talking, you are sure that you will pull him closer by his waist and kiss him. You can’t remember the last time you have felt a need quite like this one. And you have never wanted to kiss another human being more than him. Why? Just because he’s nice to you? No. He’s not just nice to you. You probably would have run by now if he were just nice to you.

Matt is genuine, which seems to be his personality trait, and it makes you feel somewhat important again. Like you’re worthy of whatever it is he’s giving you, not constant pain and suffering. It’s strange and new, and it is still terrifying in a way, but once you let it happen, it’s a lot more gentle on your soul.

“Fuck me,” you curse under your breath. “We haven’t even sat down yet.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he asks.

You shake your head. “No.”

“So, does that mean I can still buy you a coffee?”

“Now more than ever,” you blurt the first sentence that comes to mind. You look at him as if he is a rare species, and you’re painfully aware of that.

Can he read your mind? Whenever you look at him, it seems like he knows just what you’re going through. He tries to hide it, but it’s almost as if he’s already inside of you. Not in the way you want him to but in a way that makes you feel vulnerable, but you still would surrender all of you to him if he just asked.

Your hands slip from his waist.

“After you,” he says, grabbing a hold of your arm again.

“Right,” you mutter. “After me.”

The line isn’t long. You get behind a few other people, Matt’s hand still tightly clasping your bicep.

“I just realized that they don’t have a Braille option for the menu.” Your eyes dart around the room, but the only visible menu is the one hanging above the counter.

You’ve been here more times than you can count, but you never actively paid attention to how accessible it all is—which is not at all.

Matt chuckles beside you, his breath tickling your ear. “Read it to me,” he says. His voice is soft, quiet, and kept low so only you can hear him.

You shiver. Your lips suddenly feel drier than the desert. You won’t survive this day, you’re sure. He’s going to kill you.

“R-read it to you?” you stammer as if it is such an outlandish request. It isn’t. You just can’t process it properly, not when he’s so close to you and he smells like he does.

He doesn’t have a strong, overwhelming scent. The cologne he’s wearing only has a slight whiff of sandalwood and nature, but it’s nothing too overwhelming. Of course, he must have a sensitive sense of smell as well. He probably uses scentless soap and shampoo, and the cologne he uses might even be the only scent he can stand. What you smell on him must be his natural scent. Clean, soft, warm—you’re obsessed with it. You’re addicted to it.

Matt nods again. “Yeah, read it to me,” he repeats.

“Okay–” you take a deep breath, and you begin to recite the options you already know by heart. Coffee, cold drinks, tea, lunch options, and snacks.

He listens intently to what you have to say. “I think I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“Did you decide that now or did you know that from the beginning?”

“I may have already known,” he says with a smirk.

“Then why did you ask me to read it to you?”

“I like listening to your voice.”

When you suck in a sharp breath this time, you manage to conceal it better. “That’s cheesy,” you retort, trying to match the tone of his voice but failing miserably. Flirting over the phone proves to be much easier than in person, especially with a man like him.

“Is it still cheesy if it’s the truth?” Matt asks.

You look at him, staring at your reflection in his glasses, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “The truth can be cheesy.”

“That’s true, but I made you smile. I’d consider my cheesiness successful.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

He chuckles. “Oh, don’t worry. It won’t. Can’t deny it makes me feel good though.”

You exhale again, even more shaky than the last time. All you can see is yourself in his reflection. Before you can answer, the couple in front of you finishes their order and moves on to the other end of the counter, allowing you to step forward.

“Hi,” you say to the barista behind the counter. “Could I get two regular lattes and two muffins, please?”

Matt smirks beside you, not at all fazed by your ignorance of his antics. If anything, it spurs him on further, and he tightens his grip on your arm. Deep down, you know that he is doing it on purpose, but at the first sign of you being uncomfortable, there is no doubt in your mind that he will stop. But you’re not uncomfortable; you’re merely flustered beyond relief. To him, that’s a good sign because it means that you’re in this and not with one foot out the door—and you wouldn’t want to be, anyway, which is much scarier than the prospect of turning around and remaining alone for the rest of your life.

A bit of fear goes a long way, but there are still walls that he has to break through. Walls you won’t let him through so easily, but you also know you can’t keep him at an arm’s length forever. Eventually, the truth will come out, and you’re not quite sure how to deal with that revelation before your date has even taken off.

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @danzer8705 @kakamixo @littlehappyperson @atemydadforbreakfast @stevenknightmarc @zheezs14 @shouldbestudying41 @kiwwia-wiwwia @writtenbyred

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #daredevil x reader #reader insert #charlie cox #doctor!reader #do no harm

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hotchfiles · 4 months

Note

hey, congrats on 100!! wanted to request seth cohen with the prompt “i would do anything not to give a shit, but i do” thanks so much!!

lari's 100th follower bash + send me a prompt and one of my boys for a blurb

seth + “i would do anything not to give a shit, but i do”

his eyes haven't left you from the moment he barged into your room, the close friendship you shared allowing him to be as impertinent as he wished. your own glanced him from time to time through your mirror as you worked on your makeup. you had a date. an actual date. cohen was not going to ruin that for you.

"so you're actually doing this, you're really going out with him." if you allowed yourself to delve more into the terrible heart wrenching crush you had on the curly boy laying your bed, you would tell yourself his voice sounded disappointed, sad even. but you promised yourself you wouldn't do that anymore. not holding your love life back because seth might look at you softly once in a while, or because he would sleep on your lap while showing you one of his underrated tv shows that would surely be canceled in two seasons max.

"oh no, i just enjoy uncomfortable clothes and spending two hours on my makeup. the usual." seth's response to your sarcasm was to scoff annoyingly loud and roll on your bed to look up your ceiling, trying to think of anything he could say or do that could stop you.

he couldn't just lock the door and swallow the keys even though that was the first option to come to mind. a fake allergy attack wouldn't work, you knew of everything he was allergic to. he could just ask you not to—but then you'd ask why.

and he didn't know why. he just didn't want you to. it was unnerving to think of you having fun with another guy with your silly pretty dress and your red lipstick he never saw you wear before. and he couldn't even blame on your date. he was a cool normal guy, not some kind of awful jock.

"well, i mean, it's firefly night, you never miss firefly night. are you coming home before it airs or—" seth didn't finish his pleads, the way you looked at him was enough of an answer, you didn't even like firefly that much, your biggest enjoyment out of it was nathan fillion being a hottie and... cohen's company. you sigh deeply, avoiding his gaze as you went directly to your shoes, trying to find something remotely elegant for a dinner.

of course you would rather be laying on his couch, eating popcorn, cozy on his blanket that always smells like him, laughing at his jokes and pretending to be offended when he thought you didn't understand one of them. but the more you did that, the more you lost precious opportunities to find someone to actually be with you. love you.

"but like, you don't even know him." not true, he was older than you both, but he graduated from the same high school only months before. "and he's not even tall." he was taller than you though. "and he has a terrible taste in socks."

"socks, cohen? really?" you groan in frustration, at him and at the fact not one of your heels matched your dress. too high, too black, too thin, too tall. nothing matched. "why do you care?" you ask finally, your hands on your hips as you looked over at him, who, sensing you were getting madder by the second, decided to get up and just sit on your bed, looking into your eyes. "do i need your blessing? do i have to ask you before going out with someone? why, why do you care?"

"i don't know! okay. i don't know." his body jumps from your bed, pacing out through your room, avoiding your eyes at all costs. “i would do anything not to give a shit, but i do.” he stops on his tracks, his breathing is loud, was it ever that loud? or were you both just too quiet?

you think you're gonna regret this, but you step even closer to him, planning to possibly ruin your friendship but to at least get a single kiss before it happened. seth looks at your lips and like many times before he wonders how soft they are, if the lipstick you had on tastes like cherries like your balm you usually wear and forces on his lips with your fingers. would your thighs be warm around his waist? would his cold hands on your cheeks scare you away? just the usual stuff a good friend would think about his friend who is also a girl.

he acts on impulse as do you, both of you going for a kiss at the same time, laughing at how uncoordinated it felt because of it, noses hitting before your lips could touch. but they do eventually. and seth notices the lipstick does not taste like cherries on your soft lips, it actually tastes awful, but he doesn't care. your makeup is getting completely ruined, his fingers firm on your cheeks, but you're more than happy to let that happen.

the kiss doesn't linger, the need for air even stronger due to the surprise of it all, his forehead touches yours lightly, his hands never leave your face. "firefly night is just... very important to me." you nod at his joke, too stunned to even laugh.

"your house then." it's not a question, you let go of him and he groans missing how warm you felt. you put on the first pair of slippers you can find and pull his hand as you left your room. not a single plan to watch the stupid show in mind.

#lari's 100th #seth cohen x you #seth cohen x y/n #seth cohen x reader #THANK YOUUUU

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glittter-vamp · 1 year

Text

Ohio Is For Lovers | J.B

CHAPTER 2

Joe Burrow x Reader Series.

Warnings: 18+ only. MDNI. Angst. Explicit Language, Alcohol.

Word Count: 2,219

Read Chapter One Here

A few weeks later:

"Please please pleeaase Y/N! It'll be fun. We'll have unlimited food and drinks!" Mariana begs you for the 50th time. "Mariana, you know how I feel about this after what happened. Some fans will probably get stupid and I don't feel like listening to people call me names, look at me weird or throw some shit at me. I see how football fans can get and I'm good on that." You shake your head as you wash the dirty dish and lay it on the rack to dry. "No! You can't think like that! Don't let these assholes get to you! Ja'Marr is expecting both of us to be there and support the team. C'mon Y/N! Please...we'll have fun!" Mariana pleads again in front of you giving you puppy dog eyes.

Mariana came over before a game today to ask again about going to a Bengals game tonight. You had already told her no multiple times but she kept on insisting because Peyton was out of town for work and Sasha was with her family celebrating her moms birthday, so that left you. So she says, as if she hasn't gone to games with other people or even alone.

"Fine, but this is the only game I'm attending, you can tell Ja'Marr that too." You sigh going to your room to change. "Yes!! Thank you! Thank you!" She squeals as she follows you to your closet. You pick out an oversized black hoodie and black leggings. "You don't have anything with the Bengals on it?" Mariana. "Why would I? I don't even like football." You say starting to change clothes not caring that she was there, this wouldn't be the first time you'd change in front of your friends. "We'll get you something at the game." She nods. "I'll be fine in this." You shake your head knowing you're not going to buy merch of a team a person you really dislike plays on. You put on your white and black Nikes after putting on some socks and throw on an orange beanie. "This good enough?" You ask. "Better than nothing!" Mariana nods. You already had make up on from earlier today so you just retouched it a bit. You grabbed your phone, wallet and keys and made your way out of the apartment with Mariana. "I'm assuming I'm driving?" She asks as you two head down in the elevator. "Duh..." You chuckle. After getting into her car you two drive to the stadium. It was already a mess going into the parking lot with all these screaming drunk fans that tailgated. You were completely dreading being here for who knows how fucking long, you'd pray that crazy mid-west weather would kick in and they cancelled the stupid game but it was a perfectly sunny evening with no clouds in sight. Just you're fucking luck, you thought to yourself.

You two park in valet and security notices Mariana and they kindly lead you two to your seats. People of course were starting to recognize you two more, you would hear whispers from people who looked at you two. "Already hating this." You mutter to Mariana. "It'll be fine! Just keep your head up and keep walking" She reassures you. You two get escorted to your seats after stopping to get some beer and snacks. "See, not so bad." Mariana says. "Mhm." You hum. This was only the start of the night, you can't even imagine what could go wrong. The game finally begins and you smile watching your best friend cheer her boyfriend on. She seemed really happy and you really loved that for her since her last relationship wasn't all that great. She deserved to be happy with her partner.

During the game you got a couple looks and glares from people, mostly young teen girls who were all wearing Joe's stupid jersey. You didn't expect any less but as the game was nearing the end, your phone gets bombarded with notifications from your other friends and siblings. You open the stuff they sent you and they were all links about how you were spotted at the game with Mariana and a spreading rumor around that you were actually here to see and support Joe play, which could only mean to these delusional lying people that you and Joe were most likely an item. You roll your eyes at your phone and let out a big sigh of frustration.

You show Mariana and her Jaw drops. "And you thought I was being dramatic with coming here." You shake your head. "I didn't think that would happen! I'm so sorry Y/N...I'm sure we can clear this up somehow! I'll post that picture of us we took earlier on instagram and caption it in a way that will let everyone know we're both here for Ja'Marr!" She says and you just sit there upset at what was happening all over again. You knew you shouldn't have risked coming here.

When the game finally ends security comes to you and Mariana again. "Which one of you is Y/N Y/L/N?" One of them asks. "Me? What's going on?" You ask confused. People around you were looking at what was happening but thankfully the other security guards told them to keep it moving since they were holding up the line to get out of the section we were in. "Can you follow us?" The man asks. "Not until you tell me what's going on." You shake your head. "Joe Burrow wants a word with you him and Ja'Marr Chase, asked me to escort you two back to them." The large man says lowly near your ear. "Absolutely not." You shake your head. "Y/N...Maybe he can help with all these rumors and speculation. Finally put an end to all this..." Mariana says looking at you with pleading eyes, you knew she felt like crap for begging you come here. You look back at the security guard taking a deep breath and nod. They escort you to these golf carts and you and Mariana hop on. People looked at you both and took more pictures and video's which you despised. They take you where the locker rooms were and lead you to this lounge/ recreational type of area.

"The guys will be out any moment, feel free to help yourself to any drinks or snacks." One of them say. You and Mariana thank them and they leave you two alone. "Have you been here before?" You ask Mariana. "Twice, usually there's more girlfriends and wives in here though, kind of weird it's empty." Mariana says looking around, we were the only two in the room. You sit down and lean back in the seat just thinking about how this was happening. "You okay?" Mariana asks. "Nope." You shake your head. "What's running through your head?" She asks sitting on the arm of the chair next to you. "How I'm probably going to have to move out of Ohio and how I'm probably going to lose my job." You sigh. "Why would any of those happen?" She asks. "Mariana, I love you but you really don't get it do you?" You ask and she shakes her head no. You take a deep breath and let her in the situation.

"My job already threatened termination due to the whole cheating scandal video and I told them that it was just a big misunderstanding which it was but now that I'm here and new rumors are starting...it's going to look like confirmation that I actually did home-wreck and how I am now dating Joe." You sigh. "That's dumb! This is your personal life, even if any of this was true they have no right!" She scoffs. "Yeah but I represent the company and they don't want to be affiliated with someone like that, I'm so done there, I knew I should of stayed home." You rub your temples trying to think about how one stupid drunken night lead to all this. "I can talk to Ja'Marr maybe he can help with finding some good lawyers for you if that happens." Mariana says. "Lawyers for what? What did you two do?" You hear a voice say and you two turn your head to see Ja'Marr.

Mariana explains the situation to him and he shakes his head. "This is fucked up, I love Joe...he's my brother and all but he really threw you under the bus here." Ja'Marr says. "Yeah, well he doesn't think so." You shake your head. Speaking of the fucking devil, Joe walks into the room in some weird colorful sweats that made him look like rejected skittle. "Hey guys." He says mostly to Ja'Marr and Mariana. "Um...we'll leave you two alone. Here are my keys, Ja'Marr can take me home. Take my car, I'll pick it up tomorrow morning" Mariana says handing you the car keys. You say goodbye to Mariana and Ja'Marr and they walk out of the room. Mariana giving you one last supportive look before leaving.

"What is it that you want?" You ask Joe once they leave the room. "Why did you come here?" He asks right off the bat. "What?" You ask confused at that weird question. "Why did you come here? Was it to get back at me or something?" He asks. "What the hell are you talking about? I came here because Mariana begged me for days to attend this stupid game." You roll your eyes. "You just caused a whole lot of shit right now Y/N." Joe says shaking his head visibly upset. "ME!? Oh I'm sorry... was I the one that used you to get back at some girlfriend like we're 17 years old? Was I the one that let this whole shit fall on you and made you look like the bad guy when in reality it you had no idea what the hell was going on and that you even had a girlfriend let alone a girlfriend that was at the same fucking party as us!? How is this MY wrong doing. Tell me...Quickly." You cross your arms.

"You knew this was still blowing over, why the hell would you come to one of my games? It's to coincidental, I know you did this to rile shit back up! Stop acting so innocent." He spat back. "Your game? Since when were you the only player on the field. Your ego is out of this fucking world, especially since you think I'd be here to sabotage you in some way like you'd matter that much to me to do so. Get a fucking grip." You scoff.

"You can't come back here, I mean it. My publicist is on my ass right now about this and I have enough shit to worry about than worrying about you and your bullshit that you're causing me." Joe says angrily and you laugh. "What was it that you said to me last time when I told you my issue with this? Oh! that's right...I can't control what others say and it's not that serious. Stop being ridiculous, Joe." You smirk at him before you walk out of the room leaving Joe fuming just like you were at that party. Pay back is a fucking bitch.

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

Later that night as you were getting out of the shower, Mariana calls you up. "Hey!" You answer after putting her on speaker. "Girl... what the hell happened?" Mariana asks. "About what?" You ask drying your body with the towel. "Joe just called Ja'Marr fuming about you, that he needed to stop giving you tickets to the games or whatever the hell it was that he was saying." Mariana said which made you laugh. "What a fucking idiot, as if anyone could control me going to one of their games, even if I got tickets through you guys or not, I can still buy my own." You shake your head as you put on your Pajamas.

"I just don't get how he doesn't see that he's the one in the wrong? Even Ja'Marr told him that he was being immature & out of pocket. And let me say he didn't like that one bit! Joe expects him to be on his side." Mariana sighs. "Of course he didn't like it, the guy is a narcissistic asshole." You scoff. "Well, anyway...I'll let you get to bed and stop bothering you with this. I just wanted to see if you were alright. I'll be over early tomorrow to get my car, hope that's okay?" She asks. "Yeah, I'll be up, just text me when you're on your way. See you then." You tell her grabbing your toothbrush. "See you." She says before hanging up. You couldn't help but to laugh to yourself about how much of an immature asshole Joe was. He could of cleared things up and controlled the dumpster fire he created but instead he wanted to play victim, which resulted in it now biting his ass. It was about time he got some of his own medicine.

After you brushed your teeth and moisturized, you plugged your phone up to the charger on your nightstand and got into bed. "What a fucking day." You say to yourself as you turn off your bedside light and got into bed, letting today's drama fade away from your dreams.

#joe burrow fanfiction #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow smut #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow series

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sophsicle · 2 years

Text

I’ve been thinking about dinner...

"Reg?" James kicks the front door closed behind him, shrugging off his winter coat. It's cold today, especially when you're a hundred feet in the air clinging to your broomstick. James is bone tired and slightly nervous he's never going to regain feeling in his toes. He looks down at his socked feet once he gets his boots off, wiggling them experimentally. Well, at least they still move. He sighs, running a hand through his sweaty-half-frozen hair and peering further into the flat. He doesn't think any of the lights are on. "Reg?" he tries again. Lately they've been missing one another. It's getting close to playoffs and both their teams are pushing hard to make it into the finals. If they both get through they'll be facing each other in the first round, which personally, James thinks is fucking hot, but usually Regulus just rolls his eyes when he says that. He nearly misses it - the flickering light in the kitchen. Nearly walks right by it on his way to the bedroom. It makes his frozen feet stutter. Everywhere else is dark, but the kitchen is golden.

James is about to call out Regulus's name again when he's pulled up short in the kitchen doorway. At least two dozen lit candles are floating around the room, very much making it feel as though their flat has been decorated with stars. They twinkle and flicker and make everything warm. The small table they use is covered in a nice looking tablecloth James wasn't aware they owned. There are flowers in a vase - snowdrops - they were his mother's favourite. Since she's died they've become James's favourite too. Regulus has his back to him, fussing over something on the counter. He's wearing the jumper James likes - blue, soft.

"Have I forgotten something?" Regulus jumps, whipping around, hand going automatically to his chest. "Jesus Christ James, you scared the fuck out of me."

"It's not our anniversary," he says, quickly doing the math in his head. "Right?"

Regulus blinks, still catching his breath. "What? No."

"Not your birthday, not my birthday," James goes on, flipping through dates. "Not Valentine's day." "No, no it's not - it's just Wednesday."

James looks back at Regulus, curls soft around his face, grey eyes wide. Jame is utterly confused and so sorry for fucking this up. Whatever it is. "What's special about Wednesday?" he asks eventually, eyes running around the room again, not quite able to take it all in.

"I - nothing, I just - " Regulus lets out a breath, frowning in that way he does, when he's frustrated with himself. When things get stuck in his throat, in his chest. Old habits - of keeping the vulnerable parts of himself locked away.

"My practice was cancelled today," Regulus says finally. "And we haven't been able to really...sit down with one another in a while and I thought..." he gestures helplessly at the room around them. "It's always you who does the romantic gestures, and I wanted - I just wanted to do that for you this time."

He stares at James expectantly but James doesn't think he can talk right now. He's overwhelmed by how much he feels for the boy standing in front of him, fidgeting with the sleeves of his jumper. He's happy and yet somehow on the verge of tears all at the same time.

"This was stupid wasn't it?" Regulus says when James stays quiet too long. "You know I'm crap at this stuff I - I've gotten it wrong haven't I? I don't know what I was -"

"Reg."

"-thinking. It's too much right? I didn't know - I didn't know where to stop so I just sort of tried to do it all at once and well-"

"Reg."

"-it's a fucking mess isn't it?" he lets out a self deprecating laugh. "Just let me clean this up and we'll order pizza or something okay? And we can just forget that I ever-"

"Regulus," James is standing toe to toe with him, hands taking hold of Regulus's face, gently but firmly.

Uncertain grey eyes meet his, and James can't take it, can't come up with the words to make sense of everything he's feeling right now. So instead he bends down and presses their mouthes together.

The kiss is soft at first, sweet, and then James tilts Regulus's head back and deepens it, nearly bending him over. His hands slide to Regulus's neck, his lower back, pulling him close.

Holding.

When they break apart they're both breathing heavy, foreheads pressed together.

It takes a moment before a timid smile pulls at Regulus's pink mouth. "You like the dinner then?"

James laughs, the noise coming from his chest, rumbling through him. "It's incredible. Thank you," James brings his hand back up to Regulus's face just as he tries to duck away, to sidestep James's praise. Cheeks growing roses.

"Hey," James says softly, waiting for Regulus's eyes to meet his again. "I love you so much."

Regulus swallows. "Yeah," he whispers back. "Yeah I love you too."

#I don't have an excuse for this #fluff #choices #soph rambles #jegulus #starchaser

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peachbearies · 3 years

Text

Pussy Fairy. E.Jaeger

𑁍┊synopsis: something about y/n with pink glittery eyeshadow made him go feral, now all he wants to do all day is lay in between her thighs.

𑁍┊Genre(s): Smut

𑁍┊Pairing: aged up(21)!Eren X F! Reader

𑁍┊Warning(s): Face Sitting, Overstimulation, praise kink, fingering, body worship, hair pulling, squirting, minimal spanking, dom! eren modern au eren.

𑁍┊Proofread: Yes / No. (to my best abilities)

Eren asked y/n to hang out with his friends, just an infrequent hangout he reckoned, he didn’t think something so modest would make him so fragile in his knees. Y/n was sitting at her vanity feeling empirical she grabbed her favorite eyeshadow palette along with her pressed glitter, getting an inspo from a fairy core post on her timeline she concluded to imitate this look. A delicate pink glittery eyeshadow look paired with soft peachy blush from cheek to cheek, soft orange highlight on her nose, and cheekbones. Eren was trying to contain himself when she got in his car smelling like sunflowers and clementines, so simple but effective.

Eren was at an expense for utterances. Y/n chuckles before pecking his lips “what happened love?” eren positions his hands firmly around her inner thigh “you” is his straightforward alibi “me? Did I do something wrong? Is my outfit not okay?” y/n started to become subconscious, but that's not what eren denoted, quite the contrary actually “no, you look intangible darling you eternally do, just this reliance of you trying new things has my heart scampering like when we first kissed” saying no more he puts the car in drive to meet Armin and the rest of his friends at an arcade.

═════°∴,*⋅✲══❏══✲⋅*,∴°═════

Once they made it to the arcade, Armin told them to just walk in they've paid for their cards with fully loaded chips on them, eren holding her hand tightly kissed her knuckles as they walk to find his friends. Y/n was only close to two of his friends and those are the ones he mainly hangs with. Armin and Mikasa. In the beginning, she thought Mikasa hated the idea of her hanging with eren, but come to the realization she was just overprotective of his wellbeing. Sliding in the booth eren throw his arm around her snuggling her close to him.

Whenever they would hang out with a group of his friends he knew how anxious she would get and always kept a hand on her to remind her he's there and that nothing will hurt her. “You guys came later! Was eren taking too long to get dressed?” jean poked fun at him.

Their relationship was always fun to watch. It was either they cursed and quite literally fought each other, or they were giving tough advice and playing like competitive brothers. Eren scrunched his eyebrows giving jean a cut-throat stare to which jean chuckled “quite the opposite” y/n answered “I was doing my makeup” Jean looked back at her giving off a genuine smile “it looks good, you look like a fairy” smiling y/n informs him that's the look she was going for eren removed his arm from her shoulder to go get a drink.

═════°∴,*⋅✲══❏══✲⋅*,∴°═════

The emotion in his head was making him dizzy he felt jealous, lust, love everything all at once like a booster shot. His mind was shortly interrupted by a hug around his waist, the aroma clouded his mind yet again. “Hey darling” he expressed, using his two fingers to remove the hair from her lipgloss. “Hi! Baby” she smiled eren was caressing her face so delicately as if she was a glass vase. She was perfect in his eyes compared to the shit he's done in the past, she's innocent like a bunny.

But she's changed him for the better, grabbing her hand he twirls her around seeing her skirt follow in sync with her body the combat boots she wore with the lace socks popping out the blue glitter-laced tank top she was stunning today. Eren dipped his head into her neck leaving soft wet kisses onto her now burning skin, her fingers petting through his long chocolate locks. “I love you” eren repeats on his skin “I love you too” his emerald eyes sparkling under the led lights of the arcade. Eren forgot about the beverage he ordered until it was sat right in front of him.

“What did you get?” she asked, eren sips his drink trying to remember what he ordered under impulses “I think I ordered a jolly rancher drink, with vodka” she looked up at him as he tried a few more sips to conjure his memory. “Yeah, that's what it is” she tried to grab the straw to taste but eren just kissed her lips over and over.

“That's all you get to taste I'm not letting you drink” eren smirks when he sees her pout face, with his free hand he grabs hers telling her to lead them to the game she wants to play. Seeing a ghostbusters game she drags him in the booth. He loved the excitement on her face it meant he was doing an amazing job has a boyfriend and a friend to her, and that's all he ever wanted. “Baby, this is my favorite game, I used to play this all-time mainly by myself cause my old friends didn't like this game” Eren's blood started to boil at the mention of her old friends.

They were toxic, but y/n wanted to see the good in people even though it was hurting her deep inside. Eren couldn't sit and watch them destroy the person he loved, even though they were friends at the time. “Your old friends were walking disappointments, dare to look down upon someone else when they're no better” cupping his cheeks in one hand, she kissed him softly before softly tugging his lips between her teeth. Though he knew she meant it innocently to calm him down, it made him wanna swerve on the highway to get home.

“Calm down babe, I know you hate hearing about them, but trust me I'm happy with y'all” her smile gave eren goosebumps, every time he saw that smile he thought to himself ‘is it humanly possible to fall deeper in love? Even though you're wrapped around their finger?” eren kissed her forehead in response. “Cmon get ready for us to win” his competitive voice commended.

═════°∴,*⋅✲══❏══✲⋅*,∴°═════

After winning the ghostbusters game, here they were at a claw machine where eren was determined to getting y/n a plushie. “You know you don't have to right?” she reminded him but everyone knew, with eren video games and arcades meant competition in his mind. Even when he was courting y/n it was a competition in being a better person for her, changing his old ways. To stop drinking so much, missing out on college parties even though she told him he could. He loved her and wanted to be the best boyfriend he could. Watching as the claw landed on top of the smiling corgi with a strawberry hat on she gasped when it was dropped into the box.

“I remember you wanting this from last time we came here” smiling she stands on her toes to kiss him softly. “Thank you, baby” after all the fun was done y/n was sitting on Eren's lap in the booth while they ate nachos. Jean looked over Eren's shoulder to see an old friend of theirs also known as y/n’s ex. But eren was too busy talking about his college class with Armin. But y/n had a keen eye so she followed his and landed on the source, she knew better than to let eren find out so she turned back which caused eren to caress her thigh over his large hand. “Something the matter love?” he asks her “no baby, I just saw a motorcycle game that looked cool, but I'm getting tired now” she started picking the piece of cotton from his shirt out of his hair.

“Yeah me too, let's go home y'all” jean suggests, they all begin walking out of the arcade bidding goodbyes to everyone just what she was avoiding her ex parked right next to Eren's car. She looked up at him but his eyes were burning holes in his chest and her ex wasn't backing down either. “Hello, eren and y/n, you look beautiful y/n why didn't you dress like that when we were together?” he questioned, eren gave him a sharp knife gaze to which her ex chuckled.

“Take it easy, I can't compliment her? Is that a crime?” he jokes eren smugly leaned against his car and across his chest “no, but to watch you suffer I'd gladly catch a case” his devilish smirk cascaded across his face. Her ex started to tremble at the expression on her boyfriend's face y/n grabbed his hand “can we go home?” she asked politely “yeah, let's go home dear” the aggression in his voice sent rivers in between her legs and shivers down her spine. Opening the door for y/n she got in after letting out a soft sigh, ‘how long was I holding my breath?’ she thought to herself.

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Eren cranked up the car placing his hand on her inner thigh, but close to her weak spot, she didn't say anything just thinking maybe he was doing it by accident, but she didn't mind either. She was comfortable with eren she trusted him. His fingers slowly crawled up her thigh to the waistband, of her panties snapping them across her warm skin his fingers were frigid against hers, a low gasp left her lips when his fingers slipped into her fabric as two of them disappeared into her slit. Her eyes lolling back before he's done anything. “You know how patient I've been?” eren mumbles, y/n looks at him in utter confusion, all she could see was his firm sculptured jawline, the stubbles from his beard coming back.

“Since you came out that house, wearing this beautiful outfit, and your elegant makeup, I wanted to cancel on them and drag you right back into the house” removing his hand from her needy core he spreads her legs open with his free hand, before removing her panties and throwing them in the back seat. Her wet core exposed to the cold air made her squirm to feel anything as if eren could read her mind his index finger slid up and down her core feeling her walls clench in anticipation. “Pretty girl, got all dressed up you look so lovely, dress like this more often and ill reward you hm?” eren pinched her clit between his two fingers making her body twitch the gasp in her throat quickly turned into an air pocket. “You're so beautiful my dear, you want these fingers inside of you?”

“Please?” y/n begged, without further ado, he preps his two fingers coated in her lubrication before sliding them into her needy hole. Her short gasp fueling his desire for her. “Look at you, baby, a beautiful mess for me” eren looks in her direction at the red light to further pound her with his fingers, the palm of his hand slamming against her clit “faster..” she begs her body heat getting warmer by the second “your wish is my command babygirl” eren knew what he was doing saying that word. It was her weakness, eren sped up his fingers as he curled them inside her sloppy hole. The broken syllabus of her saying Eren's name, seeing her squirm next to him fueled him, even more, to just get home fast.

“Eren—I'm coming” her legs were shaking too close but eren pulled out followed by her whine, his glossed fingers smack her inner thigh “keep them open for me pretty girl hm?” he placed his fingers on her tongue as she sucked her flavor off his finger. “Okay,” she whines “good girl” eren praises her. His fingers engulf back into her hole the tender buzzing between her legs resurfaced and she was on edge again. Eren was fingering her faster than he was a moment ago, his left hand gripping the steering wheel as he speeds home to ravish her. “Fuck—” she whispered “you're going to come for me princess?” he asked, she whimpered a small yes feeling her legs trembling to his touch.

“Come for me beautiful” eren decrees, her body shuttered under the drastic sentiment of his fingers coddled inside of her. She couldn't keep her eyes open due to the shock going through her body. His fingers swiped her clit left and right to procure another orgasm out of her, her whimpers twisted into short pants brandishing his wrist with both of her hands after riding out her second orgasm he discarded his hands from her pulsing clit and walloped her essence off his fingers, her legs fastening right after. “Taste as good as you look, princess, you did well for me” smiling at her broken form he just couldn't wait to ravish her at home.

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Getting home eren wasted no time holding her over his shoulders making her giggle at how needy he is for her. Getting a vigorous glimpse at his leather seats they were lustrous but he didnt have the time or thought to do anything, that all she had to do was wear glittery eyeshadow to get him pungent and irked. Throwing his metallic keys in the receptacle he kicked off his shoes and omitted hers simultaneously. “I love you, you know that?” Eren murmurs before positioning her on the bed “yeah, and I love you more” he cupped her face as their inflamed lips adjoined for each other her nails stroking his stern arms before coiling them in his chocolate locks, strands of his hair mashing against her forehead making her smile into their fervent session. “You’re perfect” Eren mumbles in her neck, vacating humid elegant kisses on her susceptible skin, the forlorn pants and stubble weakness for attention made him sneer against her skin.

His fingers draped around her throat holding her in place as his lips suck softly on his skin, Eren wasn’t an aficionado of hickies, but he did cherish to give soft bites and pulls from his lips on her skin, every time he did it gave her goosebumps. His free hand floundering to get her bra off he latched it off in a matter of seconds, he enables her out of her clothes the nimble air blowing on her body as he clasped his hoodie from the peripheries and over his head. Y/n was enthralled by his sculpted body, his abs defined all the way down to his v-line. “See something you relish princess?” His tongue cascade against his lower lip. “I see something I love” Eren grins “you’re cute” grabbing her by the ankles he heaved her towards the edge of the bed both of her legs upon his shoulder.

Frittering no time Eren hauled his tongue up her folds teasing her, while her head inundated in the pillow reaching out for his hands. Clutching her hand into his, while his tongue swirled around her folds already feeling unstable. Eren invariably said he could devour her for weeks and would never get depleted, now he was eating like he was famished weaving his tongue between her folds his green eyes looked Into her eyes with ardor and fascination, her legs coercing to close when he altered the pattern of his tongue to quick flicks.

She strived to say his name but was ceased by his lips engulfing her clit as he executed zigzags her mouth agape for seconds before she divulged all down his chin fidgeting for something to mellow her down. Eren wasn’t going to let her run away from her fourth orgasm so he dragged her in closer and inserted his fingers into her slowly. “Good girl princess” he gripes across her thighs, sweet kisses to her trembling thighs made him smile, hoisting his head up his fingers swirl inside of her repeatedly peaking at her g-spot. “Going to give me another one princess? Or better yet how about I make you squirt hm?” His eyes drifted darker, they were no longer a sour apple, they resemble the pine trees. “I can’t—“ she smothered grabbing his wrist with both of her hands.

She could feel the knot expanding in her stomach the pressure and feeling to squirt all over his hand along with the overstimulation made her shiver to the touch. “Yes, you can beautiful” Eren cupped her face in his free hand placing endearments on her lips and crown of her head. “Let me see that luxurious face as you soak up the sheets, let daddy discover it baby” his free hand encircled around her neck adding no pressure just to hold her in place. The tones of his palm slapping against her throbbing weak spot. Her pants were getting abrupter and tighter but her moans enhanced almost screaming out Eren's name and some mishandled cursed words. Her liquid soaking up Eren's v-line and mattress.

“Look at you, baby you’re so stunning darling” her drowsy face as her eyes started to cross, as she could see through her hooded eyelashes was Eren coming to land soft kisses on her forehead. Her body felt paralyzed she never knew she could do that. And Eren was the only one to get her to do it. She senses the weight of the bed sink next to her grinning she whirls over, solely to maintain his hand on her midriff and her thighs by his ears. Her hand striking the headboard for support, she didn’t know what he was doing candidly she thought he was complacent, not announcing she wasn't.

He pulled her waist sitting her down on his face, his tongue grazed over her folds making her twinge, “Eren..” she let out desperately “I may suffocate you” she weakly notified him, all distress left her mind once his hand clashed with her ass. Biting her lower lip she sat on his face thoroughly as he rumbled in happiness. She snickered at how much he’s enjoying this, it’s something new for the both of them. Trudging her folds on his tongue she glimpsed down at him seeing the fulfillment in his eyes she extracted the fringes of his hair from his glossy forehead. The traction drove her eccentric she needed more from him, placing his fingers on her bud he stimulated her at the pace she was moving. Which made her more frantic.

Her head lolled back desperately wanting more, she sped up for rhythm as Eren followed in pursuit, becoming greedy with his touch, she was approaching her now fifth? Sixth? Orgasm? She lost count after she left the car. Her forehead firmly pressed against the headboard has she comes undone. Eren cleaned her like a dinner plate he didn’t want any of her Essences to drop. Helping her up he lays her on her stomach, perching her ass up to him. He knew this would ultimately destroy her after they were through but he didn’t care.

She looked beautiful today. His tip taunting her entrance she moaned for him, “I hear you babygirl” his hand collided with her ass leaving a stubble print, her fingers grabbed purchase of the sheets when he rammed himself in without reluctance her toes spiraling until she fully adjusted to his expanse. Sex with Eren was either arduous or delicate, with no in-between. “Look at you taking all of me, lovely girl” fastening his hands around her waist the pitches of his low wails made her clench around him, his waistline hitting against her. She was a whimpering predicament underneath him as he demolished her for what felt like the tenth time.

Skin to skin colliding with the mixture of Eren's dirty talk, and her soft moans she tried to comprise, Eren wanted her to be loud, damn what their neighbors said he wanted to give it to her till she couldn’t fight it. “Cmon baby, utilize your words” he roared at her through his clenched cheeks, the repulse of his body denouncing against her as he continued to ravage her, “let me and the neighborhood hear those delightful little moans” he grabbed her hair placing her head on his shoulder for support as he placed delicate kisses upon her forehead. He slowly placed her back on the bed before he completely drilled her endlessly, she was now on the horizon of crying out his name out, her moans were boisterous than before, if someone didn’t know better they would’ve thought she was shouting for aid.

“Atta girl” Eren facilitated her, her body was simmering as the beads of sweat crept down her shoulder and onto the bed, he adored that face she makes when he ignites her into subspace, he hoists her fully one time holding his length inside of her, she gasped for air as her body started shuddering at the pressure. “Fuck..” was all she could let out as she came undone.“Pretty girl, you’d let me know if I’m being too harsh right?” Eren inquired out of serendipity, all y/n could do was nod. His lips kissed her temple down to her lips in a delicate manner “promise? I need words princess” he uttered in her ear. “Yes,” she let out in the form of a hum.

“Good, I don’t wanna hurt you, or get greedy just because you’re not saying anything okay? I love you” Eren soothed her, “I love you more” y/n responded. Eren slid his length out slowly as she whimpered from her high “sensitive aren't we?” He quips she turns over on her stomach to throw her arms around his neck he kissed her lips softly to savor every feeling he has right now. She wasn’t emigrating anywhere but he certainly kissed her like she was leaving tomorrow. Feeling her hand traversing to his member she brings in closer until he’s halfway inside of her. “You didn’t come” her eyes sparkled into his, the fingertips that were on her cheeks were now In her hair.

“This isn’t too much for you?, honestly just made this about you and how beautiful you looked today” Eren questions her, followed by a short ramble. “this is just perfect, this about us baby I love you” y/n giggles, Eren pressed his forehead against hers “m’kay, I love you more” Eren took the more vigorous approach, soft but drilling strokes, as much as he rushed it now he wanted to admire her. The way her eyebrows pleated when he strike the right spot, the way her lower lip fit merely prudent in between her teeth, the way she nestled his face in her hands, the strings of her hair attaching to her forehead he loved it, he’s never cherished someone as much as her. Picking up the momentum slowly his pants inaugurates to become in unison with hers the smirk on his face when his fingers flickered her bud his nose dusting against her neck.

“Come with me goddess,” he said in her neck, her nails digging into his back, she held on for dear life, her face plunged into his neck as she came, and he withdrew and did the same. Once his eyes were now on her she titters at his handsome crisp green eyes “Eren you’re so beautiful” he derides before kissing her temple. “That’s my line, I may have to litigate you” his craggy voice echoes from the bathroom, with her eyes close she shook at the touch of a calm cloth. “Shh, no ones here” he kidded, y/n smacked him with a pillow before giggling “such a fucking cocky bastard” Eren climbed on top of her “and you love it” he kissed her nose before presenting her his shirt as he put on sweatpants.

“Danger!” She screamed, Eren swiveled his eyes knowing precisely what she meant “don’t fret I’ll take you in the shower darling” y/n eyes enlarged as he pulled her back into his chest “respectfully of course” Eren gleamed in her hair before closing his eyes. “Maybe I should do red glimmer for the party on Wednesday”

“You’ll have to cancel right now if that’s your scheme, cause you’re not leaving you know how red gets me” he laughed, but his tone was far from a hoax “maybe I don’t wanna go” she chortles turning into his chest her nose prickled his collarbone, “deal” he smiled smoothing her shoulders in a circular motion.

“I love you Eren” she grumbled

“I love you more y/n”

♡ · · · · ────•.°本°.•──── · · · · ♡

#eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren jeager x reader #eren yeager x reader #attack on titan eren #snk eren

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lavsnz · 2 years

Note

if you're still taking these prompts, 🥶💭💙 for the girls pls🥺

hello! i'm sorry this took so long & thank you for the req, i hope you enjoy! i am taking any prompts i've posted no matter the time! the prompts are from this prompt list (with inspiration pulled from this post as well) & with these ocs! i loved writing this, it's so incredibly soft & sweet & i hope you love it as much as i do 🥺

Rowan’s heart drops when she gets the text.

paisley mae💋💗

ro? i don’t feel well… can you come take care of me?

Rowan responds quickly, telling Paisley that she’s running out the door as fast as she can. Rowan’s mad at herself. How could she have missed something like Paisley being sick when they were having lunch together just over an hour ago? She does her best to recall any little signs or symptoms that should have told Rowan that Paisley was sick but can’t think of any. Rowan puts all of her anger and frustration into her speed walk over to Paisley’s, which ends up turning into a run. When she gets to Paisley’s apartment, Rowan knocks on the door a bit harsher than she probably should’ve, but she’s desperate to see her girl.

The door opens to reveal the antithesis of the Paisley that Rowan saw for lunch. Lunch Paisley had her hair up in space buns, her normal amount of makeup on, bright eyes and voice like usual. Lunch Paisley was wearing a sweater dress, tights, and thigh high boots which gave her another inch to add to the three she has on Rowan normally. This Paisley is in sweatpants, one of Rowan’s big sweatshirts that nearly swallows her whole and two pairs of fuzzy socks. This Paisley no longer has makeup on and her nose is so red. This Paisley has teary and tired eyes and was shivering just opening the door. This is a sick Paisley.

Rowan walks into the apartment and shuts the door behind her. After putting down her bag, she pulls Paisley into a giant hug, with Paisley’s head resting on Rowan’s shoulder.

“Oh my baby… What happened to you?” Rowan asks, squeezing Paisley tighter.

“I started feeling a bit bad this morning but it wasn’t enough to cancel lunch. I think it’s hitting me now, I c-can’t stop shivering and I’m so, so cold. I’ve been sneezing and I’m starting to cough. I just feel horrible. Snff! I’m starting to get a bit congested and my sinuses are already bugging me. I’m sorry I asked you to come over,” Paisley says with a few more sniffles and a cough.

“Paisy baby, why are you sorry?” Rowan asks, a slight look of defeat on her face.

“I feel pathetic and needy for asking. I just don’t want to be alone and I love your comfort and cuddles and kisses,” Paisley responds shyly.

Rowan takes Paisley’s face between her hands and softly kisses her. “You are not being pathetic or needy in the slightest. You’re sick, you deserve all the cuddles and love and comfort and warmth. Let’s go get all comfy and lovey. Bed or couch?”

“Bed, much warmer and snugglier.”

“Okay sweetheart, let’s go,” Rowan replies, taking Paisley’s hand in hers and walking to the bedroom. She pulls back the mound of blankets Paisley has on her bed and Paisley lays down. Paisley makes grabby hands towards Rowan and a noise of protest when Rowan starts to walk away.

“Where you gooooing?” Paisley whines in a baby voice, with a fake frown and puppy dog eyes on her face.

Rowan lets out a quiet laugh. “I’m just gettin’ some things for us. Water, medicine, thermometer, et cetera. Don’t wanna have to get up once I’m in bed with you. I’ll be so quick, then I’m all yours, okay?”

Rowan feels Paisley nod as she presses two quick kisses to her forehead. She hurries off to get supplies and comes back with what she said and more. Once Rowan has everything set up on the nightstands she climbs into bed. Rowan sits up against the headboard and Paisley moves to be in Rowan’s lap as much as she can.

“I’m right here baby, right here always,” Rowan says, kissing the top of Paisley’s head. A content noise comes from Paisley, and Rowan laughs softly from above her and kisses her head thrice more.

Rowan gives Paisley some medicine before she gets too sleepy, and turns on the humidifier in hopes it’ll ease some of Paisley’s congestion. The humidifier makes Paisley’s nose run, her nose starts to twitch and her eyes start to flutter.

“haHA-AAITSHIEW! AACHUO’OO! Oh my… I-I’b no-no- aptCHSIO’oo! Nod dode, SNF! SNFF!” Paisley says, all stuffed up and with a few coughs after.

Rowan hands her a strawberry handkerchief - one of Paisley’s favorites - and Paisley blows her nose harshly. Rowan takes another one of the handkerchiefs she brought and cleans up Paisley’s nose. Rowan holds it there when Paisley’s breath starts to hitch, but the sneeze seems to have gone away because Paisley’s breath returns to normal and she lets out a defeated sigh.

“Bless you, gorgeous. My poor love, you just have the stuffiest cold, don’t ya,” Rowan says with a pout on her face and in her voice, and she pulls Paisley closer to her chest. Paisley buries her face into Rowan’s chest and sniffles, and curls up even more into Rowan.

“You just make yourself so small to fit into my lap even with the three inches you have on me, huh, bug?” Rowan teases fondly, kissing the top of Paisley’s ear.

Paisley nods into Rowan’s chest. “Like mbakig mbyself smball around you, mbakes mbe feel safe. ssnff!” Paisley replies, rubbing her nose against Rowan’s chest.

Rowan hums and starts to card her fingers through Paisley’s hair. “‘M always here to make you feel safe and protected, darling. Always always.” Rowan says and nuzzles Paisley’s ear.

Paisley pulls her head away from Rowan’s chest as her breath starts hitching again and Rowan can tell that she needs to sneeze. Rowan knows Paisley well, knows Paisley’s little tells. So, Rowan knows Paisley prefers sneezing into Rowan rather than a handkerchief. Paisley continues to hitch and her nose twitches as Rowan quietly says “You… You know you can sneeze into me right? I know it makes you feel better, I really don’t mind, promise. I’ve got you, sweet girl.”

Paisley looks up at Rowan with wide eyes and a soft smile on her face, eyes fluttering. She ducks her head back into Rowan’s chest and sneezes out a AA-aitSHOO! And an h-HAHTSHIEW! and even more sneezes into Rowan’s chest with a shiver and some sniffles. Paisley then wipes her nose against Rowan in an effort to clean up the mess. Rowan takes a handkerchief and uses her finger to tilt Paisley’s chin up so that she can wipe Paisley’s nose.

“Oh goodness, bug… Some fit you had, bless every single sneeze,” Rowan says, kissing Paisley’s cheek multiple times in a row before finally leaning down to press soft kisses onto Paisley’s lips.

“Thangk you,” Paisley sniffs and nuzzles her face into Rowan’s neck, “I dond’t dnow how you dnow that and how it doesnd’t gross you out, but it just feels so good. SNFF!” Paisley finishes, doing her best to lay down while still in Rowan’s lap.

Rowan starts to lay down as well, and once she is she pulls Paisley into her chest, intertwining their legs. “When you love someone, you notice all these little parts of them with time. Germs don’t bug me. Even if they did, I would still encourage and offer to have you sneeze against me because I know it makes you feel better. Anything I can do to make you feel the best, I will,” Rowan replies, and kisses Paisley’s forehead.

“I dond’t dknow how I got so lucky. I lobve you.” Paisley says, snuffling into Rowan’s neck as she closes her eyes.

“I’m the luckiest. I love you too, my Paisley Mae.”

Rowan plays with Paisley’s hair and listens to the congested little snores and snuffles that come from her mouth once she’s asleep and thinks about how truly lucky she is to have her girl. Rowan hopes she’s always the one Paisley’s sneezing into, always the one loving on Paisley and being loved on right back. She falls asleep and dreams of their future, smiling the whole time.

#rowan oc #paisley oc #my fic #thank you for the req!#ahh my sweet girls #anon req #fic req

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childish-ish · 4 years

Text

kismet

pairing: michael myers x reader

soulmate au; soulmates that make choices for each other.

part two!

"Bro. I got this bitch ass pimple on my face - what should I do?"

soulmate chooses: let it do it's thing.

"What a bitch. When i meet my soulmate I'm gonna fucking punch 'em in the fucking neck." You sigh, then snicker right after - "If i can even reach them."

Usually, you start off your day with a huge huff of cocaine and a box of Kelloggs™ cereal with the milk with the purple lid. Just kidding! You don't eat Kelloggs, instead, you eat Lucky Charms! Mostly for the marshmellows. Anyways.

You get dressed. Having been naked and looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror, contemplating on whether popping the 3 pimples on your face - one above your eyebrow, very - not visible. Another on your cheekbone - the other on your nose. You popped the one on your nose and washed your face, yesterday, so two pimples.

Anyways. You dress in regular jeans, pull over a plain grey t-shirt over your head, and slip on some socks, then your sneakers, then a hoodie. You checked over yourself and decide you look hot as fuck, and step to your bed, pull off your phone from your charger, shove that bitch in your pocket - and leave.

soulmate chooses: take a bus to school.

"Awh! They care about me <33."

"Hm." You look over the choices you get to pick - buy a donut or have a balanced breakfast.

"Haha!" You laugh, clicking on the 'balanced breakfast'. "Homeboy gonna eat good tonight. Whether they fucking like it or not."

You exit your home, keys in your pocket, and a lollipop in your mouth. You totally forgot to the brush your teeth, but gurgled some mouthwash hoping it would be enough.

You jog towards the bus, enter said bus, and sat next to your friend.

"Hey, kiddo." She waved. Neon pink hair clashed with black hair as it fell over her left blue eye, a major contrast to her paper white skin. She wore a black hoodie with some red symbol, something to do with creepypasta, black pants with large rips, fishnet tights under, and regular ol converse. Red, to be exact. Converse Chucks, to be exact.

"Shut the fuck up, don't call me that." You pull out your phone and lean down, entering your password as the bus begun to move.

"Ah, babygirl, you know that turns me on, aha - " She bites her lip and rubs her hand together like she was rubbing in hand sanitizer.

"Ah, right. I love you."

"Ew." Cheesebird laughed. Some random ass nickname you gave her because she didn't like her name.

soulmate chooses; go to classes

"Ugh." You roll your eyes - had thought about skipping class.

You look over your choices. steal a car, or walk.

Well. You don't want your soulmates feet to hurt.. so. Steal a car.

After the bus pulls up to the school, you exit with Cheesebird. You're a Senior in highschool.

You enter first period. Homeroom.

You sit in your assigned seat, thankfully, next to Cheesebird. You two discreetly passed notes, never getting caught - only once by a substitute.

"Hey, so, i know a neat place to go trick-or-treating. You up for it?" Cheesebird asked, placing her Gir themed backpack next to her feet, under the piss yellow desk -

You shrug. The day carrying on, kind've. You're in fourth period. Gym, when Cheesebird asked you the question again.

"Honestly, I'm thinking of starting in tonight. I have this fucking weird ass bad feeling.." You rub your bare arms, feeling unusually comfortable in the red booty shorts the gym made you wear.

"I can respect that. After i get all my candy, I'm gonna dip over to your house, is that okay?" Cheesebird asked, fiddling with a lollipop stick. She ate the lollipop already, stealing it from someone's backpack because of her soulmates choice - so the stick acted as a candy cigarette of some sort.

"Yeah, that's chill. What are you gonna be?" You swing your legs back and forth. Ankles crashing against the bleachers, giving you a dull pain.

"I'm gonna be a goblin. You know, if i were to guess what you were going to be, you would be a fucking astomi. Cause like, I'm gonna be a goblin.. and you're basically a goblin.. and i don't like talking.. except like, with you." Cheesebird explained awkwardly. She begun to chew on her lollipop stick.

"Yeah, i got it." You chuckle.

soulmate chooses: apple, water, and chicken nuggets.

"Oh, sick." You nodded.

"Oh, did your soulmate choose something? What was chosen your majesty?" Cheesebird asked.

"I got chicken nuggets for lunch. Want them?" You ask, looking over the freshmen that chose to play volleyball on one side, and basketball on the other.

You turn to Cheesebird, watching her eyes peek up.

Her eyes flick to you, and she nods with a smile, "Thanks bro!"

"Ah, yeah." You breathe, "No problem."

You look over your choices. clever or chef's knife.

You make a look, furrowing your eyebrows and jerking your head back slightly before choosing chef's knife.

"Another? What'd you choose?"

"My choices were clever or chef's knife." You tell her with confidence.

"Holy shit - your soulmate is a cooker! Lucky.. mines a fucking idiot."

You snort. "Lucky you.. mine could also be a murderer." You shrug.

"Hot." Cheesebird wiggles her eyebrows at you. "Oh, dude! Remember that guy - Boogeyman of Haddonfield?"

"Yeah."

"Dude, they say he escaped some institution! They might cancel Halloween cause of his bitch-ass." Cheesebird rolled her eyes and leaned back.

"Ah, what a fuck. If it actually gets cancelled, you wanna come over and watch some movies? Maybe order some pizza?" You offer.

"Oh fuck yeah man! Thanks." Cheesebird laughed, clapping you on the shoulder once.

"No problem!" You say enthusiastically, punching Cheesebird on her bare upper arm.

"Ow! Fuck.. you whore." Cheesebird sucked in a breath.

You laugh, quieting down and patting ehr on the thigh. "Wanna go to the lockers? It's almost time to go. Like, 15 more minutes.." You say absentmindedly, gazing at the red blinking numbers.

"Oh yeah. Let's go." Cheesebird was ready to hop off. You count down to 3 to 1 and jump off the bleachers with Cheesebird, jogging across the court and entering the locker room.

soulmate chooses: wash face

I didn't even do shit, though? You shrug off the thoughts and get undressed after putting in the combination for your little locker. After shoving your gym clothes into said locker, you pull on your clothes, slipping on your shoes easily and picking up your backpack. You jog over to the bathrooms, go to the nearest sink, and splash your face.

You look up - the choices; grab a water or get a beer.

You choose water. Gotta stay healthy.

You wait by the gym doors for Cheesebird. And, hooray! She comes. Don't take that out of context.

Lunch speeds by. So do your classes. After school, you walk home with Cheesebird and say your goodbyes. You pull out your keys, inserting the key and unlocking the door.

You enter, closing the door behind you. You toss the keys on the stand next to the door and kick off your shoes, throwing off your backpack and jogging to the living room. You recieve a call from your mom. Saying that she was gonna be late. Maybe coming in around midnight or even later.

soulmate chooses: order pizza.

"hey cool."

And, you do just that. You call some pizza place with breadsticks, grab some money from your room and jog back downstairs. You watch Adam Sandler movies while you wait for the pizza.

The doorbell rings after 15 minutes of waiting. You jump up and run to the door. Opening it and seeing a cute pizza boy.

"Thanks." He salutes, recieving a tip from you.

You call back a 'no problem' and shut the door, placing the pizza on the table in front of the couch. You lie down, pulling a blanket over you.

soulmate chooses: take a nap.

You feel so.. tired now. Fuck it. Let's go to sl-

You awake. The T.V. off, lights out, and warm-ish pizza. You were obviously disoriented. You go to pull out your phone from your back pocket once you sit up.

The brightness blinds you - you quickly put it at a lower brightness.

You yawn, vision vlurry before it subsides and you quickly look over your notifications. A text from your mom 'hey honey, gona b stayin l8r than usual luv u'. You smile, rubbing your eyes and holding your phone with one hand.

You stand, flashing your flashlight. You drop your phone - gazing at the large figure in front of you.

"Who.. are you?" You take an anxious step back, you can feel a stream of cold sweat stream down the side of your head - from your temple. It was fucking disgusting. So.. so dark.

You see the glint from his hand - a knife. A knife. A knife. A knife. He has a knife. He has a knife. He has a knife. Run. Go. Run. Go. Go. Through the backdoor. Now. Fucking GO!

You turn on your heel and bolt through the living room and through the kitchen. Why did you even fucking ask that? 'Who are you' - like?? You don't know him, and he's in your house. Like?? You should've just pulled a knife. Just kidding! You would've been too fucking pussy to do that :\

You inhale and exhale heavily - otherwise known as breathing. You were really close to hyperventilating - but somehow, you slow down your breaths as you quietly slip through the backdoor.

All you wanted to do - you sob in your mind, was eat some fucking pizza - you heave, as you shuffle towards the backyard entrance, that lead to the front yard. And maybe watch some fucking pornhub.. all my plans.. ruined.

soulmate chooses: go back inside your house.

You choke. Eyes growing uncomfortably hot, your bottom jaw trembled as you clench your arms, hugging yourself. Was this - this fucking stalker your soulmate?

You did have control of your body as you calmly walk back through the gate. Your eyes well up, tears blurring your vision. You wipe the tears away and wipe them on your hoodie harshly. You trace therock trail that lead around the corner of your home.

You enter through the backdoor. Closing it behind you gently. You huff, and turn around.

You immediately make eye contact with large breasts that were covered by a dark blue fabric. A zipper in the middle and a single pocket.

"So.." You begin; voice cracking. You feel your face grow hot out of embarrassment. After clearing your throat and looking into the black holes of the mask that mocked a human face, covering the whole ass fuckin head of the tall, buff male, you instantly feel small. You rub your hands together, clenching your hoodie in your hands now.

"Uh.. what's uh - what's your name?" You come to a realization of how fucking stupid that was. Asking a large scary man what his name was - he's your soulmate! A part of you pleaded for some reason. Anyways, we live for the confidence.

You gawk at the man - wasn't he "Michael Myers? Killed - killed.. four teens back in -" you couldn't remember the year. All you could honestly think about the man that was looming over you threateningly. Where the FUCK was your mom?!?

He painstakingly slowly brought up a hand, and dropped it onto your shoulder. You feel tears well up in your eyes once more as you shake under his hold.

"H - hey.. aren't we uh.. soulmates? Sh - should you really be h - HOLDING me that tight?!" You squeak, now trying to pull away. "I'm - not fucking going anywhere - "

The Boogeyman brought up his other hand and let the hand fall on your other shoulder, the hold gradually getting tighter.

You could barely see his actual eyes, due to the not-so-bright moonlight. Despite this, you see some irises..

"I - i.. I go to school.. " You blurt, "I - I have a f - family."

He didn't respond. You get anxious quite quickly due to the circumstances. You feel your eyes well up as he fucking gripe you tighter before picking you up and throwing you over your shoulder like a dead body. His actions were clear - they said 'you aren't fucking getting away'.

He held you with one arm, caging you in over his shoulder. You sob softly, but couldn't help but admire his nice ass as he walked towards the front door.

what's to become of me?

You thought. You couldn't scream - could you?

You couldn't believe you missed Halloween for this shit. You could still see some kids - they would probably run away due to their fragility.

Fuck this. We are not fucking dying. We're soulmates. But what kind of fucking soulmates does this shit? I wish my soulmate was Adam Sandler.

michael: you the bitch thats been making HEALTHY decisions for me??

you: no..?

#michael myers #michael myers x y/n #michael myers x you #michael myers x reader #slasherslikebeetroot #slasher x reader #slasher #slashers x reader #yandere slashers #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere slasher x reader #yandere michael myers x reader

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spicyizuku · 3 years

Text

—𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 | 𝙠.𝙨.

genre: fluff

pairing: sugawara kōshi x gn!reader

warnings: none

summary: your fiancé is one of the many that have to teach during a pandemic. It's caused him to overwork, so you try to get him to relax.

word count: 1.4k

The pandemic has been hard on him.

Every night he crawls into bed later and later, exhaustion visible in the tension of his body. It worries you, but Kōshis efforts with online learning will not be stopped by your concern.

Trying to teach elementary students through a screen is probably the hardest thing Sugawara has done in his adult life. Every week he tries methods to increase retention and every week he fails. Kids can't sit still for hours and it's unfair for a school to think they can- it frustrates him to no end. A few times a week you have to listen to your fiancé rant about how unsustainable this method of teaching is- he always gets red in the face when he thinks about his students that don't have access to functional internet. You help him as best as you can- figuring out ways to get his kids access to education, going on countless runs to drop off school supplies at every home- but you have a job too, so you can't put in as much time as you want to.

And the worst part is watching him tire himself out and succumb to irritation when he so dearly loves those kids. You thought maybe teachers would be able to have more breaks during quarantine, but you regularly find him working on lesson plans well past midnight.

The kitchen lights are dimmed as he sits at the island. Elementary Education textbooks and lesson plans litter the countertop. You cleaned the kitchen earlier so he didn't have to worry about the mess. You both had home offices, but Suga's favorite workspace has always been the kitchen. In the afternoon, He'll usually work on plans while you busy yourself by making mapo tofu.

Depending on the day the kitchen could be filled with laughter and conversation or comfortable silence. Its been more quiet, lately. It's hard for the two of you to be excited about life when you can't even go outside. Your weekly grocery shopping together has been replaced by delivery, movie dates cancelled, meetups with old friends rescheduled months out. You two had planned for a vacation, but that was easily forgotten about when cases suddenly went from dozens to thousands. Hell, even wedding planning was abandoned.

You watch him shuffle in his seat, busying yourself with getting him a glass of water.

Even when tired, he looks beautiful. His long eyelashes flutter as he tries to stay awake, his chin resting in the palm of his hand. He looks soft- contacts abandoned for large rimmed glasses. He's wearing a faded crewneck you got him a few years ago, sweatpants too big for him and mismatched wool socks. When he looks up from his laptop, greeting you with a tired smile, your heart lurches. Whether in sympathy or adoration, you don't know.

You make your way over to him, slippered feet shuffling quietly.

"You know what time it is, love?" You say softly, placing the glass of water down before leaning over him and pressing into his back. He whispers a small "thank you" and you hum. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and run a hand down his chest. Its nothing more than grounding, just present, a reminder to him that says hey, i'm here. He relaxes and leans back into your touch.

"Time for you to get some rest." He responds. It almost sounds like a command.

"Not without you."

His shoulders shake as he huffs in laughter. Something about it tells you that he already knew exactly what you were going to say.

"I've gotta get this done."

"It'll be there when you wake up."

You press your face to the crook of his neck, leaving a few soft pecks. His shoulders droop and he lets out a barely audible sigh. He doesn't want to lose to his exhaustion, but you're the only one in the room that knows him going to bed is nothing if not a win.

"I'll lose momentum." He turns his head slightly to acknowledge you.

"Never in my life have I seen you lose drive. Your energy is unparalleled."

"So you know that I can't give up now."

"You're not giving- Thats not what I meant and you know you're exhausted." Your reply sounds exasperated.

"Yes, beloved. But-"

"Kōshi."

He pauses. You run your hands down his arms as you continue.

"Don't mistake hard work with overworking. 'nd don't mistake taking a break with giving up. You gotta relax, baby."

He stays silent, still leaning into you. You take it as your cue to continue.

"How about we both lay down 'nd I help you relax, hm?"

Suga's eyebrows raise almost involuntarily. You let out a half-suppressed laugh.

"Not like that, you absolute horn dog. Just a back rub- in the morning I'll make you miso soup and you can go back to work. I just want you to rest. You've been so tense for so long, Kōshi- It's worrying me."

He pulls away, but your separation only lasts for a few seconds as he turns completely to face you. He brings his hand to your face, lightly running a thumb along your cheekbone.

"I don't want you to worry. I'll come to bed- just let me clean this all up, okay?" He almost sounds guilty.

You smile, "Don't, then you'll have to set everything back up in the morning. C'mon-"

You pull him out of his chair and the two of you quietly make your way to your bedroom. Kōshi all but collapses on the bed, burrowing his face into a pillow and groaning in relief. He grunts lightly as you climb into bed and on top of him, straddling his back as you lean over and press a kiss to the top of his head. He lifts off the pillow to rest his head on his arms, face turned enough to find you in his peripheral.

"Close your eyes, dearest." You say as you raise his shirt up slightly, just over his lower back. You run your hands up and down his back, he hums.

"And what if I want to see your pretty face? You're enchanting-" When he responds your face starts to heat up. It's crazy how he still knows what to say to get your heart racing.

"Sap-" Your response is quiet, and he does as he was told earlier.

Your hands slowly make their way up his back as he melts into the mattress. All that can be heard is the soft whiring of the ceiling fan and Kōshis sounds of contentment. You try to work through knots as gently as possible, but he groans in discomfort as you press your thumbs into his skin. His grunts quickly turn into sighs of relief when you finally work through tense muscle.

You get the opportunity to watch him slowly relax. His breath deepens slowly. When you work over his spine he struggles to hold in a whine.

"Y/n"

"Yes, baby?" You go back to running your hands up and down his back. He sighs as you press a kiss in between his shoulders.

"love you,, so so much-" He slurs, and you know you finally got him where you want him.

"I love you too, Koshi."

"Can't imagine life without you- y'make me so happy." His voice is barely above a whisper. Your heart swells in adoration. He's always been such a sweetheart- but its almost maximized when he's at his most relaxed. You're suddenly reminded of how lucky you are to have such an affectionate partner. A life partner.

"Please don't waste your talent."

"Hm?"

"By not becoming a masseuse- you're a god at this."

His comment makes you snort. "Go to sleep, love. We'll talk about my future in massage therapy in the morning."

"Over miso?"

"Over miso."

He gives you a small grin, his eyes still closed. You didn't know he could melt into the mattress any more- his breathing deepens and his facial features slowly relax. Before you know it, He's finally asleep.

You roll off of him as gently as possible before curling into his side, finally noticing your own exhaustion as you force your eyes to stay open. You pull a blanket over the two of you and sigh, listening to your fiancés soft breathing and letting it finally lull you to sleep.

The love you two shared over this night will not be forgotten.

Thanks for reading bestie ❤️ requests are open nd id appreciate feedback!! have a lovely day <3

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Note

From the angst list: "I never loved you" with WinterIron if you're up for it? :)

Bucky takes a long look at the screen.

“Why me of all of us? Why can’t Nat do it?”

“You’re the closest to his type, whereas I am not,” Natasha says, looking particularly miffed. “At least, that’s what Bruce said.”

“And I’m the smart one on this team for this one,” Bruce says, sliding his glasses down his nose. “Stark likes tall, dark, and handsome. Also potentially someone who could kill him.”

“I can kill a man! You’ve seen me do it dozens of times!”

“And as satisfying as it is each time, still not who we need,” Bruce says. “You can be part of clean-up.”

“Why exactly are we doing this again?” Bucky asks. “Not saying it’s not necessary, but I’m assuming we can get past security.”

“Ix-nay on that,” Maria says, frowning. “We’re getting Tony out of the weapons distribution game. He’s been selling under the table to a group called Ten Rings, and we need that shut down. Also, his security is impossible to break into. Trust me.”

“Even past government level?”

“Especially past government level,” Bruce says, admiration laced into his voice. “Government level is stupid-easy to hack compared to Stark Industries. Theirs is like breaking into Heaven itself.”

“Or Hell, depending on your outlook,” Maria says.

“If their security is good, then it means I’ve been had,” Bucky says. “I don’t think they’re gonna bypass this face and go ‘oh yeah, perfect for the job,’” Bucky says. “Which, by the way, am I just seducing him or getting a job?”

“Seduction,” Natasha answers. “Bump into him. Disregard his status as a billionaire. He’ll swoon. Rich guys always do.”

“Good to know next time my rent is late,” Clint adds, actually writing it down.

“I have no idea why you always grumble that we never send you on missions when you do this,” Steve says. “But back to the subject.”

The plan is this:

Bucky runs into Tony as he’s out walking. For a billionaire, Tony is surprisingly easy to track down. Maybe it’s because he knows he’s built up a tech empire and if anyone does kidnap him (and they try) his tech quite literally saves him.

They’re theorizing if Bucky is an outlier, a chance encounter, they might have an upper hand.

He’s not sure, but hey. What the hell. Gets him out of the house.

Tony frequents a coffee shop that is unfairly tacky, has lemon-blueberry muffins, and Bucky is ordering an iced latte.

He bumps into Tony, sending him off-balance.

The man is tinier than anticipated.

Bucky all but lunges to make sure his head doesn’t go right into the glass windows.

“Sorry about that,” he says. “Wasn’t thinking that hard, sugar.”

Tony calls all of his friends by pet names. They figured he’d appreciate it.

Judging by the small smile making its way onto his face, he does.

“No harm done, not if I get to see someone as gorgeous as you,” Tony says, all but purring. “I’m a regular here, and I’ve never seen you before.”

“Just moved back to New York,” Bucky supplies smoothly. “Work opportunity.”

He buys Tony a coffee for the trouble.

Buying a man with all the money in the world, coffee.

He gets a number printed in blocky, engineering script on a napkin with a promise to “call for a date, if you want.”

He calls the next day, heart jack-hammering out of control.

It feels awkward to have Steve and Nat right there, egging him on to take him on a simple date.

They go on a picnic. The weather’s nice, Bucky’s nervous, and Tony grinning at him is not helping.

He feels...guilty. He’s pulled undercover work before, hell even gone down the same line of thinking.

But this...this is different. Tony doesn’t seem to even acknowledge that he’s the most well-known person in the world. Sure, there are the signs. Allusions to business, Obadiah Stane “killing” him so to speak, if he doesn’t get a weapon done in time.

Tony Stark is far more different than Bucky had expected. He wears old t-shirts and jeans that have definitely been in his closet for a long time, doesn’t always remember to style his hair, and definitely enjoys having Bucky around.

The terrible thing is that Bucky actually really enjoys the man’s presence. He’s casually affectionate, unaware that Bucky could kill him if he was feeling particularly bored.

Tony tells him about his day. About the little things in life, like that he discovered that he likes a certain kind of creamer or a funny thing Rhodey said.

His friends are guarded, but nice. They don’t trust Bucky, and for good reason.

(After all, Bucky’s just another one in a long list of people that have dated Tony for something.)

And he hates it when his eyes light up because he’s excited to see him, or when Tony pecks him on the cheek when they get to Bucky’s place (and it’s not his place, it’s a safe house that he had to personalize a bit), and just...

“You catching feelings?” Natasha asks.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Good.”

They both know it’s not good.

In order to maintain a cover and not have it blow up in your face, you need to feel a little bit. Or be a hell of an actor.

Bucky’s not the type to be nominated for an Oscar. .

When he’s lying in bed, he remembers that Tony is the one who’s selling under the table. He’s causing needless deaths and it’s a shock to the system.

Because Tony can’t even kill a spider. He gets a napkin and shrieks as he flings it out into the patio garden he has. He coos when he sees a dog walk past the breakfast place they tend to frequent in fair weather.

Tony goes to farmer markets early and buys bouquets and hands out the baked goods to people on his way home.

He complains that he needs a pinstriped suit but nowhere makes it right. He puts his head against Bucky’s shoulder after a long day at work, and is very tactile. He puts Bucky’s hair into buns and is so delicate.

And it all is a lie.

It is a lie when Bucky pushes that one unruly curl out of the way when he kisses Tony on the forehead. It is a lie when he gives him fun space socks and laughs when Tony’s first action is to slide on the wooden floor.

It is a lie when they go to the art museum with hands interlaced and make fun of modern art. When Tony whispers that he loves Michelangelo, and everyone says he should like da Vinci, but he doesn’t. He can’t.

“Michelangelo painted and sculpted what he saw, and that was strength in people,” Tony says. “He used everyday models. He created a sense of pride in creation. And I never forgot that, that pride of creation.”

And Bucky swallows and it’s hard to breathe for a moment because creation is not something he would say.

Obadiah Stane knows about Bucky. He doesn’t approve of him because he is yet another distraction that pulls Tony away from work.

“You’re a golden goose, boy,” he says, putting a hand on Tony’s shoulder.

Bucky can’t help but be uncomfortable in his presence. He calls Tony “boy” and maybe that’s from knowing him from such a young age, but that doesn’t feel like it.

“Well this golden goose likes going on dates with his love,” Tony says, pecking a kiss on Bucky’s cheek. He smiles on instinct.

“Sorry, sir,” Bucky begins. “But he’s only human.”

Stane doesn’t like this Barnes guy. There’s something off about him, something that’s too...close.

He looks into Bucky Barnes.

Had some military service, was MIA. Almost declared KIA until a guy named Captain Rogers brought him back from somewhere in Eastern Europe, somewhere that Stane was familiar with.

He calls two numbers.

One is to inform the military of a surprise cancellation on a weapons demonstration regarding the Jericho missile.

The other is to a man who he hadn’t dined with in quite some time.

“Pierce, how do you feel about lunch on Saturday?”

Alexander Pierce is a man who is quite easy-going. He can do a lunch on Saturday, particularly with Obadiah Stane.

“Good to see an old friend again,” he says, taking his wine glass. “What do I owe an occasion for? Did you finally get Stark to agree to marry one of my nieces?”

“Not quite yet,” Obadiah says, smiling at the waiter. “Could I get the sirloin, medium-well? Thank you so much.”

“I’ll take the grilled salmon,” Pierce says, handing his menu over.

“How are the kids?” Obadiah asks as the waiter’s gone.

“Fine, fine. You know how the younger generation is. Think they know everything when they get to college. Samantha wants free college. Thinks we didn’t pay for anything back in the day.”

Stane laughs.

“They’ll do that, for sure. Tony comes back with all sorts of ideas in his head about medical fees and do-good-community-bullshit.”

Pierce takes another swallow of wine.

“I assume you don’t want to just know about my kids.”

“No, no that’s not all. I need to know how much you know about one James Barnes.”

Pierce stills.

“What do you know about him?”

“Tony has a new...partner,” Obadiah says, “and he goes by Bucky. I saw that he was nearly declared KIA. Can’t imagine that that was satisfactory for you.”

“It still isn’t. You know where he is?”

“I can point you to his apartment.”

“Excellent. Are we splitting the check?”

“I’ll get it, you get the other thing,” Stane says. “And don’t make it too big of a thing, okay? Dramatics aren’t what we need.”

“Got it. Thank you.”

They enjoy the steak and the salmon.

Stane tips absolutely nothing.

What Obadiah doesn’t know but probably should have is that Tony was sleeping over at Bucky’s place.

He would not have sent Pierce there at the time that he did.

He’s lucky that Bucky still remembers how to kill a man and gets out of the bed, knife already in hand.

Tony is clutching the blankets, frozen.

“You...what.”

“Do you have anyone after you to kill you?” Bucky pants.

Another guy comes up, and he’s not even looking at Tony.

Well. Looks like Stane looked into him a little bit.

“Babe, what the fuck is going on?” Tony asks sharply. He’s scrambling to get under the bed, yelping as he finds what is either the handgun or the machete. He thinks he put the handgun on the opposite side.

Tony pops out with the machete.

“I may or may not have not told you some things,” Bucky says, throwing the guy against a wall.

“Like fucking what?”

“I might have been a secret agency’s weapon for at least a year,” Bucky says. “In my defense, I remember nearly none of it except for sometimes.”

“Except for sometimes?!” Tony yells, brandishing the machete.

He’ll have to remember that he has the handgun on the other side.

“Darlin’, I need you to go to the kitchen and grab my cellphone. Call Nat, tell her you need help.”

It’s a whole clusterfuck is what it is. Bucky’s dealing with three different men all in varying states of pain in his apartment, his boyfriend (well, kind of a boyfriend, he doesn’t know he’s not one) is on the front lawn, and Bucky is in his room debating on redecorating tips and panicking.

“Why the fuck would someone send people after you?” Natasha hisses. “Who knows?”

“Stane, most likely,” Bucky says. “Got suspicious. Hated that I would take Tony out for dates.”

“Why, he homophobic?”

“Among other things. I think I cut into Tony’s productivity time.”

“Oh my fucking god, seriously? You took Tony out for ice cream and that’s what did it?”

“Most likely. Rhodes and Potts didn’t suspect a thing. I’m thinking Stane knows Pierce, probably made contact. But it begs the question as to why. Because he could get around my timing.”

“Maybe it’s not Stark who’s selling,” Natasha says, “and that means we’ve wasted a fucking year with this whole shtick.”

Tony is standing outside the door.

“You...so you were exactly like the other ones?”

Bucky’s chest constricts.

“I--I can’t say no.”

“So you never loved me?” Tony asks quietly. “Every single time you got me a present, it was just to lead me away from something else? Every single time you picked me up for brunch, it was an act?”

“Tony--”

“So after all this,” Tony says, gesturing to the framed pictures and the set of drawers that were specifically for him in mind, “you were gonna look me dead in the eyes and say ‘I never loved you’?”

“We thought you were selling weapons under the table,” Natasha explains. “We needed to get close without tripping any alarms.

Tony freezes.

“Well. You did your job. Now I’m getting the hell out of here. And I’m taking the fucking machete.”

Tony tears apart Bucky’s tires on his way out.

That’s fair.

Bucky was not expecting to feel like absolute fucking shit.

Or try to apologize to Tony.

He calls and texts and even shows up to the tower, but Jarvis says if he comes in then he’ll be obliterated to pieces.

“Does it help if I don’t care that I die?” He asks hopefully.

“I do not want to bother our cleaning services with something so trivial, Barnes,” Jarvis says.

Even his AI is mad at him.

Existence is a curse and a prison. He is definitely writing his own eulogy and telling everyone it was Bruce’s fault that he sent him instead of Nat. Nat probably could’ve done it. And not fucked it up and gotten feelings and now feel like drowning to Lana Del Ray.

“You’re so fucking sad,” Sam says, poking Bucky in the leg. “Stop listening to sad shit, I think it’s affecting Bruce. You know how Bruce is when Lorde comes on.”

“Yeah, he gets all mad and tells us we’re disappoints to natural worlds,” Steve calls out. “Bucky, you want a grilled cheese or are you gonna deny yourself a functional dinner and eat two pretzel rods later tonight?”

“Aren’t we out of pretzel rods?” Bucky grumbles back.

“I’m making you a grilled cheese now then. If you don’t eat it I’m going to tell you all about my day, and I had to wait in a really long line at the DMV.”

“Ugh,” Bucky groans. “How is your life sadder than mine at this point?”

“His life isn’t sad, it’s just boring,” Sam answers. “Steve, you’re boring.”

“If I’m so boring, then why the fuck am I still here?” Steve asks. “You never call Bruce boring when he rants about nineteenth century art and elitism.”

“That’s because I’m right and I called Cezanne a ‘punk bitch’ and made it funny,” Bruce says. “You are around for entertainment value and aesthetics only. Also because occasionally you let Sharon visit and I love her.”

Despite his best efforts, Tony is crying on a Friday afternoon at 2:34 p.m. This should not be happening, but it is.

Pepper says he shouldn’t have his desk face the door, it’s kind of sad.

“Just...god I hate that I like him!” Tony exclaims. “I hate that I know he kind of didn’t mean to do this, except he did, but he thought I was a criminal! And I still like him! Even though objectively what he did was bad but I haven’t talked to him!”

“You’re a sad little man,” Pepper says.

“If you call me a ‘little man’ one more time I think I might go unhinged and destroy the fourth floor,” Tony says. “And I know that you store your and Rhodey’s favorite coffee there because they don’t mess with cabinets.”

“You monster.”

Pepper reshuffles her papers.

“Well, while you sign these--and you willl, stop pouting--I’m going to tell you something.”

Tony starts signing.

“While I think that Bucky is questionable at best, I don’t quite think he was there because he wanted something. Other than you in jail, but like. I don’t think even that.”

“Should I be consulting a therapist about this?”

“Probably. Are you going to?”

“I’m me. No.”

Pepper snorts. She gets one signed form back.

“He felt guilty taking your gifts. He liked baking you desserts so when you got back home the house would smell like cookies. You’re not the only one who misses that, by the way.”

“So are you saying I should take him back?”

“At least talk to him. Decide if you want him back or not. Keep in mind he can’t come to family dinner for a hot minute.”

“Understood.”

Bucky gets a text asking about dinner.

He says yes.

Obviously.

They go to a restaurant neither of them know. Tony still passes an old dinner favorite, and remembers that Bucky had hated the fish.

Bucky passes by a breakfast favorite. Or late night favorite.

He remembers making little pyramids of the coffee creamers and Tony figuring out how to get creative with the tin foil for leftovers.

The restaurant has a fucking wait list.

Fifteen minutes.

So they’re standing there and making the most awkward small-talk available because it’s not like you can ask if someone is doing fine after they were attempted to be killed and you also found out they thought you were the criminal mastermind.

At least, you can’t ask it while you’re on a wait list at a restaurant.

They get seated at the bar because Tony is a gigantic pushover and Bucky doesn’t mind bar seats.

They order drinks and then Bucky orders an appetizer and it occurs to Tony that for the first time in a long time, he’ll have to ask to split the checks.

“How have you been doing?” Bucky asks.

How have you been doing. What a fucking sentence. What a damn question.

“Are you asking me how I am doing?” Tony responds. “When I found out that my boyfriend was faking it, my uncle was basically Claudius from Hamlet, and I also have to revamp my company entirely from scratch and fired the most amount of people I think I’ve ever done because of said-tragic-uncle? Oh James, I’m doing just absolutely peachy.”

Oof, James.

Bucky orders a martini.

“For the record, I am very sorry,” Bucky says. “About everything. I shouldn’t have done all that I did, and I probably should’ve just asked you if you were selling weaponry.”

“You think I would’ve told you?”

“Well no, but you’re the worst liar on planet earth,” Bucky says. “You said you liked my cardigan. You never did.”

“It was a monstrosity and you know that,” Tony argues. “I hope you burn it.”

“I’ll let you burn it,” Bucky says.

“Are you serious?”

“Course I am.”

They order from a very nice waitress who most likely has no idea the amount of shit they need to talk about, or the epic level of just...drama.

“How are you doing?” Tony asks, stirring his lemonade. “Still being a weird conman?”

“I usually am not the conman,” Bucky answers. “I’m usually the guy who’s long-distance.”

“What the fuck do you mean long--oh. Oh. Never mind, I don’t wanna know. Nope.”

“Well other than that, I’m fine. You know. Making coffee. Getting up in the morning. All that fun jazz.”

(Tony politely does not mention that all of those activities are not “all that fun jazz.” They are not fun, nor particularly jazzy.)

They sit awkwardly. Tony checks his phone.

“I still like you. And I want to hear your side of things,” Tony says. “I’m...open option.”

“You did not just say open option like you’re a college tour guide.”

“Get to the point,” Tony says.

“We thought you were the one double-dealing under the table,” Bucky says. “So we decided that I would go in. We couldn’t surpass your security, Jarvis is too good.”

“He’ll be glad to hear that.”

(This is because Jarvis is a Smug Bastard. Just like his dad.)

“And so I was introduced to you. Bumped into you completely by accident, or so it seemed. Sincerely didn’t mean to drop coffee.”

“Okay.”

“I was to get to know you in a way that didn’t involve anything with the company so that there wouldn’t be added security measures. You vetted me as a romantic interest, not a threat. You didn’t do deep digging.”

“Good to know,” Tony murmurs. “I did it after all of...that. You have an impressively mysterious background, Bucky.”

“I tried my hardest,” Bucky says.

“Continue with your story.”

“Somewhere along the line, I started...well I was conflicted. Because Tony, I don’t mean this as a way to sugarcoat, but you are genuinely one of the best people I’ve ever had in my life.

And I just...I couldn’t stop hurting myself every single time I saw you because I thought you were this person who put profit over people, and then you weren’t. And I completely fucked that up. And I was a terrible person who manipulated you. That wasn’t okay.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Tony says. “But it also should be said that I let the wool get pulled over my eyes. I wasn’t personally checking in on the company that I own. And if there were under-the-table dealings, the CEO should know. And I was just compliant with whatever Obie was doing because I thought that he was good just because I knew him. That was...stupid of me.”

They order food. It’s kind of awkward. They are both pretty sure the waitress has caught on that something is up with them.

Bucky decides to eat his mac n cheese.

Tony is looking at it.

“You want some?”

“Better not. Your appetite is always huge.”

“Yeah but you like mac n cheese.”

Bucky scoops some of it onto Tony’s plate. In usual circumstances, Tony would’ve just swooped in with his fork and stolen it like the gremlin he is.

But this is not the usual circumstance.

They split the check. Get the wrong bills. Pay them anyway, because they are nothing if not nice and slightly desperate for each other.

“I’ll..see you soon,” Tony says. “It was nice talking to you.”

They get to know each other as people, after that amazingly awkward lunch.

Tony finds out that Bucky really, really loves getting up early in the morning. He has a ritual that he rarely strays from. Bucky also likes working on cars and bikes, and that’s something they enjoy together.

Tony loves quoting old movies and talking in the very stupid but very adorable transatlantic accent.

They find new restaurants to try. They figure out that they both would prefer to not go into sandwich shops. (Varied reasons, all stemming from events from 2004. Do not ask.)

Bucky gets Tony a series of old movies and movie posters, which Tony adores. Pepper and Rhodey approve.

“You’re no longer on the kill-list!” Pepper exclaims brightly.

“I think Bucky here could kill you if he wanted to,” Tony defends.

“I could not,” Bucky immediately counters. “All of your friends terrify me on a level that shouldn’t exist.”

“I’ll keep this in mind the next time I want late night pizza,” Rhodey says. “You should not have shared with the class, Barnes.”

“Like you wouldn’t have found out anyway,” Bucky answers, snorting. “You found out where to find my middle school pictures and blow them up on Stark Industries’ presentation boards. What else couldn’t you find out?”

“Bruce’s phone number,” Rhodey says, sighing.

“Oh, I have that,” Tony says.

“And you didn’t tell me?” He screeches. “I could’ve been taking him to brunch by now!”

Tony rolls his eyes.

“You’re so dramatic. I have no idea where you got that from.”

Rhodey flips him off.

Pepper delicately sighs, picking her plate up.

“I’m turning in the for the night. Rhodey, I’d suggest you do the same.”

It’s not subtle at all. They all know that Tony and Bucky are going to talk.

They’ve been doing this dance for a couple of months now. Going on dates, leaving each other at the door and kissing on the cheek goodbye. Only recently has Tony restarted activities they used to do. It still sends a zing to Bucky’s heart when Tony kisses him on the cheek before he leaves.

“So.”

God, what a great start. Really and truly. Their best one yet, of course.

“Listen,” Bucky says. “I don’t have a lot that you don’t already know. But what you should already know is that I will and can die for you. Doesn’t matter what the circumstance is. And I know you’d do the same, I can always tell. But I know that you dying for somebody is different from me because you carry the world on your shoulders and I don’t.

And these months have been rough, I know they have. I’m beyond grateful that you got that lunch with me and we agreed to actually date and have no secrets--except for the time you used the last of my blackberry preserves--but that’s okay. You can use all of my jams and preserves for whatever you want as long as I get to see you for the rest of time.”

Tony stills.

Because he wasn’t expecting this many words. He had actually prepared a whole speech. Even practiced it in front of his mirror.

(Also he was not expecting to be in his ratty old workshop t-shirt, but here he is.)

Tony melts.

He crawls into Bucky’s lap, sighing.

“I’m never leaving.”

“Really? After all that, and all I get is cuddles?” Bucky sighs dramatically. “The folly of man.”

“You get cuddles for the rest of time,” Tony says, “plus a little more. Discounted rate, of course.”

“Oh, a discounted rate?” Bucky says, cackling. “Debit or credit?”

Tony grins, laughing. He pulls Bucky into a kiss.

“Missed that.”

“Me too.”

They won’t miss it anymore. At least, not for as long as it was.

#lovelyirony writes #winteriron #bucky barnes #tony stark #rhodey #pepper potts #bruce banner #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #sharon carter #clint barton #steve is a little shit in this and i LOVE it #i need to write him like that more

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hermannsthumb · 4 years

Note

Hello!! If you're not too busy and are so inclined, could you do 24, 27, 37 for the fall prompts? For Newt and Hermann o b v i o u s l y. Thank u so so much!! Keep up the great work xoxo

24. Warm Sweaters + 37. Cold

from autumn fic prompts here

im cheating a LITTLE and not filling the “27. corn maze” part because I wrote it last year and im def not inspired enough to do another HAHA. and also...because I want to work towards finishing my @theloccent bingo card belatedly with Spooning and Huddling for Warmth. SORRY I TOOK SO LONG, ive had a weird summer and i just moved/started grad school last week, it hasn't been very conducive for writing. set ambiguously before they're transferred to the HK shatterdome

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“I must say, Newton,” Hermann says, “I believe I sorely underestimated your abilities.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Newt says, gloomily.

“You went above and beyond what I expected.”

“I get it,” Newt says.

“It takes a true sort of talent to screw things up as much as you have.”

“I get it,” Newt says.

Hermann is not smirking--he’s too angry right now for that--but he does have a somewhat unpleasant curl to his mouth that’s making Newt boil hot with embarrassment all the same. Sort of a sneer, maybe. “I get it,” Newt says for the third time. “I’m a fuck-up, I’m a walking disaster, I--” He kicks the front of the rental car hard with the end of his boot, relishing in the dull thud that echoes from it, and less in the dull pain. “--can’t even figure out how to patch a fucking tire.”

“Or drive,” Hermann offers, helpfully. “You can’t drive, either.”

“Neither can you, Mr. Speed Demon,” Newt shoots back, but he knows it falls flat. After all--when their connecting flight got cancelled, Hermann wasn't the one who insisted they leave the relative safety of the airport to peel out into a snowstorm in search of a hotel. Hermann wasn’t the one who insisted on driving the rental. Hermann isn’t the one who got them lost down some shitty little road in the middle of nowhere, with snow piling up all around them, and he definitely isn’t the one who got distracted behind the wheel trying to adjust the radio and didn't see a patch of ice in time and sent the car--well. The point is, they’re down two tires, probably an engine, most definitely their only mode of transportation, and sure as hell aren’t near any hotel.

Around them is snow as far as the eye can see. When they get home (and that’s if they ever make it back to the airport), Newt is requesting a transfer to the LA Shatterdome ASAP. “Well, Newton?” Hermann says. He’s bundled up in his stupid parka and more scarves than Newt even owns. Newt can barely see his face. “What’s your next brilliant plan? Build an igloo?”

Not a bad idea, at this rate; the snow is no joke. “I’m thinking,” Newt grumbles. His breath puffs out white in front of him. “Tow truck,” he says. “We need a tow truck.”

“Astute,” Hermann says.

Newt ignores him and pulls his cell phone from his pocket. No bars. Right, of course, middle of fucking nowhere. “Do you have any reception?” Newt sighs.

“I didn’t bring my mobile,” Hermann says.

Newt’s eyes snap up to fix on him incredulously. “You didn’t bring--?! What the hell, man?”

“I had no need for it on the trip,” Hermann says. “We’re meant to be at a conference. I didn't think we’d get lost.” He doesn’t even have the audacity to look ashamed. Newt debates hurling his cell phone into the snow bank in frustration, but decides against it, because it did kind of cost a lot.

“Unbelievable,” he says instead. “Fucking unbelievable. Fine. Let’s go find--”

“You’re not saying we ought to walk somewhere?” Hermann interrupts.

“What other options do we have?” Newt says. “Freeze to death? There’s gotta be at least a gas station or something nearby--I could find someone to tow the car, while you--” He looks Hermann up and down, from his oversized Oxfords to his twenty scarves to his pathetic red cheeks. Hermann’s leg gets stiff as hell in the cold; there’s no way he’d be able to make any kind of distance right now, and who knows how long they’d be walking. There’s also no way Newt’s leaving him behind. “Come on,” he finally sighs, and touches Hermann’s elbow tentatively. “Let’s just get back in the car. It’s warmer in there.”

Maybe he’ll go off by himself once the snow stops. Or maybe, if they’re lucky, someone will stop by and offer them a ride before that. “Only barely,” Hermann says with a scowl, but he obliges.

Newt doesn’t get back in the car right away, though. Instead, he pops the trunk, pulls out their duffel bags, and begins feeling around the backseat. They’ve only had the rental for a few hours, and Newt isn’t exactly the most skilled around cars, but he thinks... “What are you doing back there?” Hermann says.

“One sec,” Newt says, and when he tugs a little lever off to the side, the seats fold down. Another tug, and they fold back into the trunk, leaving the back half of the car entirely flat. “Oh, awesome!”

"Newton?”

Newt ignores Hermann and begins digging around in their duffel bags. He has nothing but a few spare sweatshirts and boxers in his own; Hermann’s proves far more promising. “Score,” Newt whistles, and pulls out two--three--four ugly sweaters. “Holy shit, dude, we were only supposed to be there for a night. Why’d you pack so much?”

“I like to be prepared,” Hermann says. “Which you clearly know nothing about. Hang on--” He cranes his neck around his seat headrest to frown at Newt. “Why are you--?”

“You’re a regular Boy Scout,” Newt interrupts. He climbs into the back of the car, kicks his boots a few times against the back fender to knock off all the snow, and shuts the trunk behind him. “Come on,” he says, unlacing his boots, “get back here already. I’m cold.”

Hermann stares at him.

Newt shucks off his leather jacket and pulls one of Hermann’s sweater over his head instead. It’s insane how much of a difference it makes--maybe Hermann has been on something all these years when he tells Newt he needs proper winter wear or whatever the fuck. He pulls on a second one for good measure, pleasantly surprised to find he can still move his arms, and then pulls on a second pair of his socks over his first. “C’mon, Hermann,” he says. “Time to share some body heat, dude.”

Hermann grumbles, and he shakes his head, and he tucks the hood of his parka down over his face (like being unable to see Newt means Newt will just magically forget he’s there), and then--finally--he turns back to face Newt again. “This is ridiculous,” he declares. “We must have other options.”

Newt lays down and stretches out on his side, blinking up at Hermann coyly. “You’re making it weird for no reason,” he says. “It doesn’t have to be weird, you know.” It can be perfectly natural--two dudes, who sometimes fight, and sometimes do things a little more amorous than fight, sharing body heat. That's all. “It’s just biology. Cats do it, penguins do it--”

“No,” Hermann says.

He comes to the backseat anyway. Newt likes to think it’s because he’s too irresistible.

“I call being big spoon,” Newt says happily, and he tucks himself around Hermann’s bony--and, at the moment, puffy--back before Hermann can protest. One leg, he nudges between Hermann’s, making sure not to put any weight where he shouldn’t; he settles the arm wrapped around Hermann at his waist, splaying his hand somewhere around Hermann’s upper abdomen. “There. Isn’t that nice?”

“Hmph,” Hermann says.

Outside, the storm rages on around them, snow piling up on the windows and frosting them over where it hasn’t landed yet. The last dregs of the heat in the car die out. Newt tucks himself a little closer to Hermann, inhaling his shampoo, the slight damp scent his fuzzy parka hood always has. Hasn’t the guy ever heard of dry-cleaning? “Feeling cozy?” Newt mumbles.

“You’re shivering,” Hermann tells him.

“Am I?” Newt says.

He is. Huh. Hermann turns over with a grunt, then unzips his parka and tucks Newt into it in one fluid motion. Newt winds his arms around Hermann instinctively. “There we are,” Hermann murmurs. “Let’s get you warm.”

The zipper goes back up with some difficulty, pressing Newt so tight against Hermann’s chest he can barely move. Hermann’s chin bumps his forehead. Newt looks up to find his wide mouth parted slightly. “I think I want to kiss you,” Newt says, surprising himself.

“Hm?” Hermann says.

“I want to kiss you,” Newt repeats a little louder, and that gets a reaction--Hermann’s eyebrows leap to his sweaty bangs, and his whole body stiffens. “Listen--listen. Uh. The best way to share body heat--you know--it’s stuff like that. Kissing, and--”

“I am not having sex with you in the back of a bloody rental car,” Hermann half-shouts.

Newt wriggles around a little until he can steal an uncoordinated kiss from Hermann, landing it somewhere to the left of his mouth. He has better aim with his next one. “I won’t tell anyone if you don't,” he promises.

“We are not,” Hermann says, but the next kiss, he instigates himself.

They’re rescued half an hour later when a local knocks on the window and asks if they need a lift; the bed and breakfast Newt was so sure he was leading them to, as it turns out, is only a five minute walk away, hidden from view by some trees and the snow. “At least we had some fun bonding time,” Newt tells Hermann sheepishly in the lobby.

Hermann scowls, but to Newt’s delight, requests a single queen for them both.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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nachotrash · 3 years

Text

MORE INCORRECT QUOTES WITH MY MOOTS

ft: @catchmewiddershins @lilikags and @paradise-creator // no haikyuu boys this time

Pauline: No more making fun of me when I misuse dated cultural references, alright? Are we cowabunga on this? Wid, sighing: Fine. We're cowabunga.

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Pauline: We're having a baby. Shiyu: Oh, congradu- Wid, slamming adoption papers onto teh table: It's you, sign here.

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Pauline: Why are there little handprints all over the walls? Shiyu, whispering: Why are there little handprints all over the walls? Wid, whispering: Because I have little hands. Shiyu: Because they have little hands.

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Wid: I was born for politics. I have great hair and I love lying.

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Lili: Life keeps fucking me and I can't remember the safeword.

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Wid: Pros and cons of dating me. Wid: Pros. You'll be the cute one. Wid: Cons. Holy shit, where do I begin-

(cons. you're the smart one😔)

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Shiyu: Sure, you're verified on twitter, but are you verified in the eyes of god?

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Pauline: Theater kids are just choir kids who joined forces with the band and strings kids.

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Shiyu: Did you just call me a shrimp, you asshole?! I'm still growing, dammit!

(*lipbites in 166 cm*)

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Wid: I don't dab. I stab.

(nOw WhEarE HAvE i SeEn ThIs BeFoRe)

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Shiyu: I scare people a lot because I walk very softly and they don't hear me enter rooms. So when they turn around, I'm just kind of there and their fear fuels me.

(t-pose to assert dominance)

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Shiyu, as a child, reading their school assignment out loud: I love my library because... Shiyu, mouthing words while writing: I love reading, fuck you.

(lmao baby nacho really be bold)

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Shiyu: The ‘how the fucks’ and 'why are you so dumbs’ don’t matter. All that matters is that I have a new gun.

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Lili: It's not ugly, just aesthetically challenged.

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Pauline: The last time I went to an urgent care clinic, I checked off 'excessive crying' on the symptom list, and then the nurse got really confused and said that was meant for babies.

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Pauline: All of your existences are confusing. The Squad: How so? Pauline: Your presence is annoying, but the thought of anything bad happening to any of you upsets me.

(we are the squad now)

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Lili: Blackmail is such an ugly word. I prefer extortion. The X makes it sound cool.

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Wid: Real life should have a fucking search function, or something. Wid: I need my socks.

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Pauline: New year, same me. Because I'm perfect.

(yes yes you are how dare you)

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Shiyu: Yeah I'm LGBT. Shiyu: cuLt leader. Shiyu: God hates me personally. Shiyu: cowBoy hat. Shiyu: *sniffles* Trying my best.

(my asexual ass be like;)

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Wid: *plays shreksophone* Wid: Woo. Wid: Time to listen to this on loop for all eternity. Shiyu: ...Genius coping mechanism my friend

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Shiyu: Treat spiders the way you want to be treated. Pauline: Killed without hesitation.

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Pauline: The next time I open up to someone, it'll be my autopsy.

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Pauline: Sometimes, I don’t realize an event was traumatic until I tell it as a funny story and notice everyone is staring at me weird.

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

Pauline: I hate Lili. Shiyu: "Hate' is a strong word. Pauline: I have strong opinions.

(oh no)

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Wid: How does that even work? Shiyu, mocking them: hOw dO yOu UsE a cOmPUteR aNd KnOw wHaTS GoiNg oN iT DoEsNt mAke SeNSe?! Wid: Your face doesnt make sense.

(...fair enough)

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Pauline: Get in, loser, we’re committing vehicular manslaughter!

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Pauline: My stomach growled super loud in French. Pauline: I would like to clarify, my stomach did not speak in French. It growled during French class. Shiyu: Bonjour. Lili: Le growl. Wid: Hon hon hon, feed me a baguette.

(reminds me of the 'ill speak french between your legs' tumblr legend and im wheezing)

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Shiyu: *tapping fingers on table* Lili: *taps fingers back furiously* Wid: …What’s going on? Pauline: Morse code. They’re talking. Shiyu: -.-- ..- .-. / - …. . / -.-. ..- - . … - Lili: *slams hands on table* YOU TAKE THAT BACK!

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Shiyu: For self defense reasons, I'm going to pretend to be a burglar and you guys have to act wisely. Wid, Lili, & Pauline: Okay. Shiyu: If you don't want to die, give me all your money. Wid: Bold of you to assume I have money. Lili: Bold of you to assume I don't want to die. Pauline: Bold of you to assume I can die.

(pauline is a goddess. goddesses cant die)

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Lili: If I punch myself and it hurts, am I weak or strong? Wid: Strong. Shiyu: Weak. Pauline: An idiot, is what your are.

(as long as you dont flinch or scream youre strong. unless you get punched in the gut by someone like ushijima ofc)

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Shiyu: Those darn tall old people. Wid: Darm em' indeed. Pauline: Don't worry, they'll be gone soon enough. Lili: *sharpening knife* Yes. Dead. The Squad: Lili: Hahaha. Lili: ...Is this self-destructive behaviour?

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Wid: Oh god, they texted you ‘hi.’’ punctuation only means one thing, Pauline. They're mad at you. Pauline: No, it's Shiyu. They're just being gramatically correct! *meanwhile* Shiyu: And then I used a period so they'd know that I'm mad at them. Lili: A period doesn't say 'I'm mad', it says 'you're dead to me'. Shiyu: I stand by my choice.

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Wid: What do we think of Shiyu? *pause* Lili: *sighs* Nice pal. Pauline: I think they're gay.

=------------

Wid: Where is Shiyu? Pauline: I'll do you one better, who is Shiyu?? Lili: Here's a better question, why is Shiyu?

(i dont know man. ive been trying to figure it out for the last few years)

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Wid: On the count of three, what’s your favorite cake? Wid & Lili: One, two, three- Wid & Lili: Chocolate cake, peanutbutter frosting, and chocolate chunks! Shiyu: Our turn, Pauline! One, two, three- Shiyu: Vanilla! Pauline: I’ve never had cake before. What is cake?

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Pauline: I am darkness. I am an power. I am your worst nightmare. I could kill a man in more ways than you can imagine. I am the night. I am fury, I am a weapon, I am- Wid: A doll. Shiyu: A cinnamon roll. Lili: A sweetheart. Pauline: Pauline: ...stop it.

(cant deny the truth bby)

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Wid, Pauline & Shiyu: *screaming* Lili: *runs into the room* What's wrong, Shiyu?! Wid: Wait, why are you asking Shiyu that when Pauline and I are also here? Lili: Because Shiyu wouldn't scream unless it's an emergency. You two scream whenever you have the chance.

(i mean... its true )

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Pauline: What’s wrong? You look 10 seconds away from ripping someone’s throat out. Wid: Fucking Shiyu and Lili were trying to invoke one of the minor gods again last night. I didn't get an ounce of sleep, thanks to their bloody chanting.

(manifests dvalin cause i wanna ride on their back and fall off)

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Lili: Wake me up- Wid: Before you go go Shiyu: When September ends Pauline: WAKE ME UP INSIDE

(cant wake up- WAKE ME UP INSIDE)

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Shiyu, watching Pauline & Lili panic : What's going on? Wid: Pauline is having a midlife crisis and Lili is just having a crisis.

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Lili: *Gasp* Pauline: wHAT?? Lili: What if soy milk is just milk introducing itself in Spanish? Pauline: *inhales* Wid, in another room with Shiyu: Why can I hear screeching?

(shiyu: same shit different day)

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

Shiyu: Christmas is cancelled. Wid: You can't cancel a holiday. Shiyu: Keep it up, Wid, and you'll lose New Year's too. Wid: What does that mean? Shiyu: Lili, take New Year's away from Wid.

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Pauline: So, are they your friend or... Lili: They’re like Wid, but if Wid was ordered to be around you. Pauline: Oh, so Shiyu. Lili: Precisely!

(if its about how annoyed i always look then you ahve a point)

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Wid: You’re just being paranoid. Again. Pauline: When have I been paranoid? Wid: Um, when you first met Lili you thought they were an undercover cop…? Pauline: No one has a wart that big, I thought it was a surveillance camera! Wid: And last year you were sure Shiyu was a mermaid! Pauline: They hate wearing shirts! COINCIDENCE?! *Later, when Pauline’s theory is proven wrong* Wid: Do you have anything to say for yourself? Pauline: I still think Shiyu is a mermaid.

(id gladly be one)

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*Wid drunkenly wanders around the manor and Lili is drunkenly giggling* Shiyu, completely sober: *sighs* Well, looks like it's just me and you against the wold, Pauline. Pauline, going to their room: Nope, just you. *shuts door*

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

Wid: We need to distract these guys. Lili: Leave it to me. Lili: Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss. Pauline & Shiyu: *immediately begin arguing*

(*pulls out dictionary*)

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

Police: You’re under arrest for trying to carry three people on a single motorcycle. Shiyu, with Wid and Lili behind them: Wait, what do you mean THREE?! Police: Yes…three. Shiyu: Oh, my God— What the fuck!? Police: Wha- Shiyu: Pauline FUCKING FELL OFF!

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

Wid: What is love? Pauline: An emotional minefield. Shiyu: A neurochemical reaction. Lili: Baby don't hurt me.

(BECAUSE FUCK EMOTIONS)

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

Pauline: I currently have 7 empty notebooks and I have no idea what to put in them. Any suggestions? Wid: Put spaghetti in it. Pauline: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you. Lili: Put spaghetti in it. Pauline: I am currently taking suggestions from everyone but you two. Shiyu: Put spaghetti in it. Pauline: I am no longer taking suggestions.

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

Shiyu, pointing to the wall: What color is this? Pauline: Gray. Lili: Grey. Shiyu, turning to Wid: Now tell them what color you think it is. Wid: Dark white.

#incorrect nacho

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restlesstheoryqfab · 3 years

Conversation

text | LivQuinn

Liv: I was just looking back in my camera roll and found a picture of us in the dungeon :sweat smile emoji: :sweat smile emoji:

Quinn: oh God

Liv: We looked so rough LOL

Quinn: I'm sure we did

Liv: How are you?

Liv: Did I see somewhere your tour ended?

Liv: You going back to California?

Quinn: m'fine

Quinn: That it did.

Quinn: Nah. Headed back to Boston.

Liv: Oh! So I’ll get to see you then??

Liv: When will you be around?

Liv: It’s been ages

Quinn: Yup

Quinn: Got plans Monday, presumably I'll be required to make an appearance at Fran's on Tuesday, but I could probably do sometime on Tuesday?

Quinn: That it has.

Liv: That’s so far

Quinn: It's Tuesday or you wait even more.

Liv: Ugh the worst

Liv: why can’t you be around nowwwwwww

Quinn: Because I'm not

Liv: I’ll wait

Liv: Since I have to

Quinn: believe me, I'd prefer to be around

Liv: Are you close enough for me to drive to you?

Liv: The pictures were so hot!

Quinn: I'm busy.

Liv: Oh, okay. No worries

Quinn: Post tour shit is a bitch

Liv: I mean, I imagine so. So much physical and emotional work. When I was on tour it felt like we never went to bed.

Quinn: I love being on tour. I hate coming off it.

Liv: Sounds like you ate too many edibles

Quinn: I wish.

Liv: Do you want some?

Quinn: God no. Fran would kill me.

Liv: So? Edibles are basically good for you

Liv: Plus they just help you sleep

Quinn: You convince miss high and mighty of that.

Liv: Maybe she just cares about you?

Liv: Well, if you decide you want some lemme know.

Quinn: She does, but she's also anti-everything fun

Liv: Fun is relative. Different for everyone.

Liv: sounds like you need fun, grumpy

Quinn: But weed is nearly always fun, and Frannie turns up her nose at it.

Quinn: I need a fucking break is what I need.

Liv: plus how do you know Frannie hasn’t made edibles before? She definitely has.

Liv: You’re literally on break

Quinn: Is my withdrawal brain reading shit wrong or did you just say that Frannie, Francine Grace Fabray MADE edibles?!

Liv: She did! On Sunday.

Quinn: The fuck?

Liv: It’s why I have them

Quinn: You made edibles with my sister?

Quinn: god this feels like a hallucination

Liv: I did!

Liv: They’re so yummy too

Quinn: What fucking world did I faze into that my sister is making edibles?

Liv: Why does it matter?

Liv: It just means she doesn’t care if you let me bring you some

Quinn: She'll still fuckin kill me

Liv: I just wanna chill with you Fabray

Quinn: I'm probably the last fucker in Boston you really wanna hang out with.

Liv: Hey now, don’t put words in my mouth :frowning emoji:

Quinn: I'm not good company right now.

Liv: That’s okay. I can just drop cookies off?

Quinn: No. It'd be a bad idea. I don't know what adding that onto everything else would do. Would like to at least give Fran the chance to kill me.

Liv: Okay. I’ll bring some Tuesday then. How’s that?

Quinn: Sounds great. And tell whichever of the women in that house you're talking to that I know what I'm doing.

Liv: You sure about that?

Quinn: Yeah, this isn't my first rodeo.

Liv: Well they love you

Quinn: Doesn't always feel like like it. Fucking snitch.

Liv: Rather be a snitch then lose you

Quinn: I was talking about Bea. Though you're not much better.

Liv: What did she do?

Quinn: Tattled to Frannie

Liv: she is the baby

Quinn: And I told her I was fine.

Liv: Yeah, I mean drugs usually don’t equate to fine. But it’s fine.

Liv: What do you have going on Monday?

Quinn: I'm detoxing. It's fine.

Quinn: high school reunion of the horny variety, apparently

Liv: But why stop if you wanna do them so bad?

Liv: Ooooooh

Liv: Gross

Quinn: Frannie. And I only trust one guy to supply me, though after this my trust is wavering.

Quinn: Pretty little brat that I'm inclined to believe is as good with her mouth as she says.

Liv: So you stopped enough to trick her?

Liv: Hopefully she’s not lying

Quinn: If she thought I wasn't using she didn't worry.

Quinn: Pretty little song bird who also doesn't know how to shut up. So if that woman doesn't know how to put that mouth of hers to good use, well, she knows what I'll do to her.

Liv: Looks like you’re spots been blown up unfortunately

Liv: What now?

Liv: Hopefully she shuts up enough to use her mouth

Quinn: Fuck if I know.

Quinn: She likes being put in her place, I'm sure I can that mouth to do what I want it to.

Liv: Cool

Liv: sounds funnnn

Quinn: I should ask if she's gotten rid of her reindeer sweater...

Liv: LOL u joking?

Quinn: This girl wore short fucking skirts, knee high socks, and sweaters so fucking often. And no matter how much teasing and bullying occurred she wouldn't change. Even her so-called friends tried to get her to toss the fucking reindeer sweater and she just wouldn't.

Liv: Well, stubborn can be fun. I think.

Liv: My brother always wears funny bow ties. People don’t appreciate them but he does it anyways.

Quinn: Bowties I can appreciate. Unflattering sweaters with reindeer I cannot

Liv: They were unflattering even with the knee socks?

Quinn: From ankle to waist she was perfect. Great legs, an amazing ass. And then BOOM reindeer

Liv: LOL you’ll have to let me know what she wears cause I’m big curious

Quinn: Hopefully not much. But yeah, I'll let you know

Liv: She shows up naked. Could you imagine :laughing cat emoji:

Quinn: If she wasn't meeting in public first I am not entirely sure I'd complain.

Liv: Why public if you know each other?

Quinn: Because it's been 11 years since high school and I'm not stupid enough to give someone I barely know my address?

Liv: Did she know your address back then? :winking emoji:

Quinn: No. My father would have had a conniption if I even entertained the idea of being acquainted with her.

Liv: Ohhhhhh

Liv: Romeo and Juliet vibes :laughing cat emoji: :laughing cat emoji: laughing cat emoji:

Quinn: I wanted nothing to do with her back then. Except when I could get her angry enough to storm off so I could watch her go.

Liv: So you kinda wanted something to do with her

Quinn: I wanted less to do with her than she wanted to do with me.

Liv: Omg was she in love with you

Quinn: She wanted me to fuck her in the locker room. Apparently on multiple occasions.

Liv: Jesus

Liv: that’s hot

Quinn: Spanking included

Liv: Well then

Quinn: Mmhmm

Liv: Well hopefully she’s just horny for you and not obsessed with you

Quinn: I've had worse people obsessed with me

Liv: Fair enough.

Liv: So what are you going to make her do?

Quinn: Haven't decided yet.

Liv: No fair

Quinn: I mean, she's given me so many ideas. Definitely like the idea of spanking her, getting her on her knees, not letting her up until I'm satisfied."

Liv: you could kill her between your legs and she probably wouldn’t care

Quinn: Probably

Liv: That’s a sacrifice I’d probably take too

Quinn: Is that so?

Liv: For sure

Quinn: Interesting.

Quinn: So, you and Frannie?

Liv: We’re friends because of Arin! Love that woman

Quinn: Okay, but like how are you two JUST NOW connecting? I mean, you and the queen of darkness have known each other for a while, right?

Liv: It just sort of happened, idk

Liv: the same way you spent your summers with my Blaine

Quinn: Excuse me what?

Liv: Blaine Anderson | Liv Anderson

Quinn: Bruh.

Liv: Tell me about it. I could have gotten into so many pants way sooner.

Quinn: So like, why weren't you?

Liv: You know, dads suck!

Quinn: Mood

Liv: I punched him in the face and he shipped me off to boarding school :sunglasses emoji:

Quinn: Damn, I wish

Quinn: I just write songs about mine

Liv: Mine doesn’t exist to me anymore so no songs need to be written

Liv: At least they are good!!!

Quinn: I'm sure I don't exist to him but that doesn't make the trauma and shit nonexistent

Liv: Neither does the drugs

Quinn: The drugs have very little to do with THAT bastard

Liv: Okay. My apologies.

Liv: They still don’t help trauma

Quinn: They stop the memories way more than you'd think

Liv: Doesn’t make it the way

Quinn: Yeah, well they work.

Liv: I know

Quinn: and that's the part that matters.

Quinn: so like how did you get her to make edibles?

Liv: I asked her

Quinn: What the ever loving fuck have I missed the last 9 months?

Liv: I don’t know LOL

Quinn: Neither do I.

Liv: The world just got smaller mostly.

Liv: and everyone is horny and kinky

Liv: Or both

Quinn: Both, definitely both.

Liv: Specially them Fabray girls

Quinn: Not all of us.

Liv: All of you dude

Quinn: Last a checked my not-so-closeted older sister is still in fact a sex free bitch. And as much as even I know kink isn't always sexual, Frannie might have an interested, but that definitely doesn't result in actually being willing.

Liv: An interest is enough for me to label you all kinky. That’s all.

Quinn: Okay then

Liv: And you are horny I’m sure

Quinn: nah, withdrawal sucks that shit right outta ya. Hoping I don't have to cancel Monday, honestly

Liv: omg that’d break her heart probably

Quinn: Probably

Liv: such power

Quinn: Mmhmm

Liv: if you cancel on her let’s hang out

Quinn: If I cancel on her it will be because I still feel like death

Liv: and I can’t take care of you?

Quinn: Why would you want to?

Liv: Friends take care of friends

Liv: I messaged you because I was hoping you’d let me come over to help you. It just also meant I could let Frannie know you are okay

Quinn: I'm fine, Liv, really. Just some extra shit I wasn't expecting to deal with.

Liv: You guys are so fucking frustrating holy shit

Liv: Okay. I get it. But I want to help. And I’m here for you. That’s all. You can believe it and I hope you would but I won’t force you.

Quinn: I know I am. Bea, if you know her is too. But what's frustrating about Frannie? Like, from a you perspective?

Quinn: I just don't need the help right now, okay? Go be a brat to someone who can handle it

Liv: She doesn’t take a single compliment.

Liv: I’m not being a brat I’m trying to be a friend

Quinn: Is there a reason you're trying that hard to compliment my sister?

Quinn: You're being a bratty friend.

Liv: It’s easy to?

Quinn: ... You like her don't you

Liv: We’re friends. Obviously I like her.

Quinn: Bitch, you know what I mean

Liv: I haven’t thought about it like that tbh

Liv: Maybe I do

Liv: That’s fun

Quinn: Does she know? Does she like you back? I need details bitch

Liv: You think she knows when I didn’t know?

Quinn: I don't know. Maybe? Like does she like you?

Liv: I mean she likes hanging out with me and made edibles with me

Quinn: Mmhm. And?

Liv: What do you mean and? We just chill a lot

Liv: And laugh a lot lol

Quinn: Okay. That's something. But also you're terrible at this. I'm gonna have to ask Arin. Arin knows these things.

Liv: Arin knows everything

Liv: I also don’t know anything right now outside the fact that I’m seconds from exploding

Quinn: Except how to fall in love with someone who WON'T cheat on her.

Quinn: Getting relief, I hope?

Liv: low blow

Liv: Maybe she can date Bea. Bea doesn’t know anyone but us.

Liv: Yes sooooon

Quinn: But the truth.

Quinn: Don't know how I feel about that. Though, pretty sure she had a crush on Arin when we were younger.

Quinn: oooh

Liv: I mean who didn’t have a crush on Arin? LOL

Liv: oooooh

Quinn: Frannie. And presumably Blaine.

Quinn: Who???

Liv: Wonder if Sugar did. She’s worse than anyone I know when it comes to realizing feelings LOL

Liv: Arin

Quinn: Sugar had it BAD. Like, literally got her ass beat multiple times with a book cos she refused to leave Arin alone. Now she just pretends to hate her for it.

Quinn: enjoy the queen of darkness, you both probbaly need it though like... does Frannie know?

Liv: LOLOLOLOLOLOl

Liv: Yeah, I think she knows. I mean I don’t know how she wouldn’t know.

Quinn: uh huh. and do you know if she reacted to this?

Liv: What do you mean?

Liv: I don’t know.

Liv: she said she didn’t need Arin

Quinn: I mean how did she react. Was it normal. Was it short. Did it take longer or faster than it should have.

Liv: She gets short a lot. I didn’t really note it as different

Liv: This is so much

Quinn: Well, when you have a chance, compare what everytime she's gotten short with you has in common and met me know

Liv: Quinn, I really like sex and she doesn’t

Liv: I don’t think we could ever work

Liv: it’s not that serious

Quinn: Look, I can't say why she's repulsed lord knows that's her story to tell, but she's on that site for a reason. A reason that I pray means what I think it does. Don't count her out because of her history.

Liv: I’m not counting her out. I just think you’ve got it all wrong.

Quinn: I don't think I do. But Arin will know more and I will get my answer. Just think over why she gets short with you.

Liv: Stubborn :sweat emoji:

Quinn: Fabray genetics. Running away, being attractive, a desire to be right.

Liv: can you like wait to bug arin until I’m done with her?

Quinn: You mean til she's done with you, but yeah, I'm gonna go pass out

Liv: goodnight Quinn :winking emoji:

Quinn: enjoy the queen of darkness

#i: liv anderson #t: liv anderson #t: all #long post

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