#tried one of these on black paper this time instead of painting in the black bg dhsgkhfd

[pit-and-the-pen]

Your Love is Sunlight- Unrequited Love Pt.3

Whoops. Part 3 to Requited Love but could also be read as a stand-alone (I think I gave enough context to do that). This will be the last linear fic for this little series. But there will be more from this OC.

Let me know if you want to be added to the on-going taglist for this OC

Eris x Day Court! OC (Sunbeam) 

Warnings: Suggestive language, heavy kissing. One singular dialogue line with misogyny. Eating (as always let me know if I'm missing anything)

Also I’m heavily messing around with canon/ lore for mating bonds here. 

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Pt. 2 Alt Ending]

WC: 3.7k

divider by @cafekitsune

The request came not even a week later. A week that I could not get the red head out of my thoughts. Eris was a perfect gentleman that night, only lightly chucking as he held my hips away from his after our heated kiss.  We danced the rest of the night away until my shoes had worn painful blisters into my heel. And I would do it a million times over if I got to see that look in his eyes

Eris looked at me like he actually saw me. Like a was someone worth looking at. Not a second option. No, he looked at me the way no one ever had before and I was drunk off of it. The fire in his eyes was enough to make me want to sink to my knees right then and there. I had told him that much that night. 

But instead, he went back to his court. The very court whose seal is on the envelope in my hands. The paper so dark red it was almost black. I opened it with shaky hands and scanned over the words, over and over. Written in loopy, beautiful cursive. The note was short and sweet 

Sunbeam, it would be my honor to show you around the Autumn court. You’d be my personal guest. 

I will be waiting for your reply. 

Yours,

Eris 

One little word made my heart skip a beat. YOURS. Something deep in my chest purred at the idea but I brushed it off to the side. Flirting is one thing but the idea of Eris ever truly wanting something like that with me seemed too good to be true. So I wrote back my enthusiastic yes and in a puff of smoke that left the room smelling faintly of cinnamon, the letter was gone. Returned back to the male that had written it. 

I had never been to the Autumn Court before. My eyes tried to adjust to the beautiful reds, greens and yellows in hues I’d never seen outside of paintings. The cool breeze that seemed to whisper in my ear as it brushed past. Everything seemed alive as I heard the scurrying of animals on the leaf covered ground. When the air rose a few degrees, you already knew who was walking up to me. I greeted Eris with a tight hug. He was dressed in a handsome emerald green button down with gray slacks. His hair tied up out of his face unlike the other night at the ball. Those same golden rings littered his fingers. I blushed as I realized my eyes had been raking over him. If he had noticed, he didn’t say anything. Suddenly not knowing what to do with myself, I gave him an overdramatic curtsey raising my voice to stuff almost regal pitch. 

“High Lord.” He quickly recovered from the confusion that washed over him. He smiled, catching on, before he bowed low

“Allow me the honor of showing you around.” He said as he extended an arm to me. His voice dripped with that same faux stuffiness. The two of you looked at each other, holding back laughter. I broke first. My laughter rang through the large forest at my back. His head was thrown back, blinding white teeth flashing. Once we had recovered, he held out his arm again. Voice back to normal. “I would still like to show you around.” I took his arm and the two of us walked around the manor that seemed to rise out of the forest. 

AS he showed me around, he told me of the renovations that had recently taken place, pointed out the things that he still planned to change. The inside was just as breathtaking as the woods around the house. Rich colors and soft, plush fabrics filled the space with an unmistakable warmth. One that Eris had painstakingly tried to create. 

“And this will be your room for your stay. I already had your things brought up and I had Tessa and Clover, two of my mothers maids, pick out some warmer clothes for you.” He gestured to the large armoire in the corner of the room. “If you need anything else please don’t hesitate to tell them or myself.” Thanks rushed out of my mouth as I gaped at the room. 

My  room at the day court had floor to ceiling windows that allowed for sun to streak through at all waking hours, marble and gold littered every surface possible. This room was cozy enough that I instantly felt my eyes get heavy. Dark wood paneling ran across the walls. Heavy curtains over the windows that had been pinned back displayed the colorful trees. And the bed.the bed. It was covered with the softest, plushest blankets I had ever seen. Pillows covered over half the bed and it made me want to do nothing but burrow into them and never leave that bed. My feet drifted on their own accord over to the bed, I reached out a hand and almost sighed at the feeling of the fabric against my fingers. Just as soft as they looked. 

Eris’ content laugh pulled me out of my trance. I turned around to face him, he stood in the doorway still. “I’ll let you get settled. I can show you around more later today before dinner? If you want.” My heart fluttered at the idea, the thought of his court seeing us together. Of course, it was probably just to make sure I didn’t get lost in the maze that was the manor. At least that’s what I told myself, but as he took one more glance at me before he walked out of the room, I wasn't sure how much I believed that. 

Although I had bathed earlier that day, the deep tub in my bathroom all but called my name. I sniffed random bottles of oils and poured in spicy, warm smells. The oils seemed to curl in the air and beckon me to sink deeper into the water. Completely submerging my head until I needed to come up for air. I sat in the bath until my skin started to prune. Groaning, I pulled myself from the soothing water and dried off. Wrapping the towel around myself, I padded over to the closet and ran a hand over all the clothes Eris had given me. The closet was full of jewel tones and deep reds. Floor length dresses that were heavy enough to keep out the nip of the air at night but light enough to walk around in during the day. I picked an emerald long sleeve dress and blushed at the realization that Eris and I would be matching. Before I could lose my nerve, I pulled the dress over my shoulder. The front buttoned up all the way to the ground. The waist tucked in slightly flaring out around my hips. It felt amazing against my skin and fit like a glove. 

A knock at the door pulled my eyes from my reflection in the mirror. My hair was still wet from the bath and small waves were starting to form at the ends. Eris opened the door and stilled as he took me in. I felt like I was a thousand feet under his heavy gaze. He looked down at his own shirt for a second before he looked at me again. 

“Autumn court is a good look for you, Sunbeam.” My whole body flushed at the compliment and I hummed in agreement. A small yip from the hallway split my focus. A small furry face pushed through his legs, almost toppling the High Lord. “Azelia” he whistled, the hound stilled for a second before prancing over to me. She sniffed at my skirt before she sat at my feet, giving me her full attention. I reached down to pet her and she rolled over onto her back. I laughed at the twitch in her tail as I ran a hand over her stomach. Eris whistled one more time and she barked back before flipping back over and walked to sit at his feet in a similar manner. I giggled at the exhausted look he shot the dog. She only barked in her own form of laughter. 

Eris and I walked along a river by the house. He helped me pick out the perfect stones for skipping across the water. Coming up behind me to make sure my arm had the perfect flick to make it sail over the surface. I wasn’t nearly as good as he was, even with his help. Something he pointed out with a smirk. I pushed him lightly and he clutched at his chest like I had mortally wounded him. Crouching down onto both knees. I walked closer to him.

“Oh please, Eris ge-” My words were replaced with a yelp as he wrapped his arms around my legs and pulled me over his shoulder. I could only laugh my head off as I pounded at his back. Demanding he put me down. When he did, I felt the tree against my back. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you sound when you laugh?” I blushed and shook my head. 

“It can’t be that special. No one has ever said that before.” He knew who I was speaking about and he pulled my chin up to look him in the eyes 

“I wish I could offer the usual sentiment of killing the male that ever made you feel this way but that would complicate things as a high lord,” he winked at me. I felt my shoulders loosening at the humor in his voice. “But you say the word and I will.” He picked up a lock of my hair and twirled it around his finger. “You’re radiant and anyone who has ever made you feel otherwise is either blind or dumb or both.”

We had leaned in so close to one another that I could count the freckles on the bridge of his nose. Someday I hoped he would let me kiss each and every single one of them. My eyes flickered down to his lips and he was smirking as he followed my eye line. 

“Is there something you want, Sunbeam?” The little shit. It’s like my words had evaporated completely. Brain went fuzzy as his smell wrapped around me. I could do nothing but whimper. He made no other remark, only used his hand already in my hair to grip the back of my head. He growled as he smashed his lips to mine. This was nothing like the kiss from the ball. That had been exploratory and warm. This was an all consuming inferno. Burning through every ounce of self doubt I harbored. Scorching through my veins until only Eris was left. His free hand wrapped around my waist and pressed me against every delicious inch of him. When I started undoing the buttons of his shirt, he still his lips. His hand went to rest over mine and I reluctantly pulled away from him. I tried not to show the hurt on my face. And he leaned in to whisper in my ear. 

“The first time I'm inside of you will not be outside. Nor when we're rushed. I need time to make you scream my name. For all of Priyanth to hear that you’re mine.” Something more than hunger flashed in his eyes and I felt that look deep in me. 

“Eris.” I gasped out. He brushed a soft hand down the side of my face. 

“You can’t say my name like that sweetheart, not when I have to sit at dinner with the rest of my court in less than an hour.” I blushed at the meaning behind his words and tried, and failed, to not look down to the front of his pants. The evidence behind his words. My tongue ran across my lips at the sight. He groaned and stepped away from me. 

“You are a bad influence. But I meant what I said.” He booped my nose with his pointer finger, “ Now please go get ready for dinner.” His hand lingered on my arm for a fraction longer before he reluctantly let go.

I got dressed in a daze. A wild blush would not leave my cheeks. Everytime I managed to push away my errant thoughts, more would seep back into my mind. 

Before I knew it, I had changed into a new dress and was walking side by side with Eris down to the dining room. A few members of his court were already there, talking amongst themselves. They smiled up at him as we passed. As I sat down next to him they introduced themselves in kind tones. I nodded trying to keep up with their names and faces. More people started to come in and eventually all the places at the table were filled. 

There was no big speech or ceremony to start dinner. Everyone ate at the pace that they wanted to and cups of wine were being poured and shared. 

A deep voice of an older male pulled me from my conversation with the female,Fern I think was her name, next to me. 

“I’m still trying to figure you out.” He stated plainly. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you hung around Rhysand and his cronies. Came crawling back to Day where Helion welcomed you with open arms,” I felt the room grow hotter. “So I’m simply wondering how to get you in my bed too.” One second the male had been sitting at the table and before I could even blink, he had been blasted across the room. He sat up, eyes unfocused as he put a hand to his head. All eyes turned from the male now lying on the floor to the High Lord who was picking at non-existent dirt under his nails. 

“You will not speak to any female, especially guests, like that in this court. Ever. Again.” He hardly looked up at male before he evenly said, “You’re dismissed.” Two of the other members of the court scurried to his side and helped heave him to his feet. Quickly getting him out of the room. 

“I’m sorry you all had to see that. There are many things I will tolerate but comments like that are not one of them.” Eris said to those remaining from his court. All of them nodded along, not fear but appreciation in their eyes. I felt my heart soften at his words. Beron would have let a comment like that slide, maybe even agreed with it. It would take a while, old habits run deep but Eris would squash that old cruelty out of the Autumn court piece by piece. The thin line of determination in his face told me that much. He turned his attention to me “Are you all right?” He quietly asked me. The sound of silverware clinking against plates and light conversations filled the silence from moments ago. I nodded. 

“You didn’t have to do that, you know? It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” His mouth set into an unamused look, anger pinching his eyebrows.

“Sunbeam, I will not allow anyone to talk to…” he took a breath, about to say something but seemingly changed his mind. “I would do it again.” I knew he was telling the truth and thanked him for his kind words. 

The next few days passed too quickly. I spent the days in Eris’ presence, him waving me off when I apologized for keeping him from his duties. He assured me that making me feel as welcome as possible was a hundred percent part of his responsibilities. Both as a High Lord and a friend. Friend. I bristled at the word. Only a few more heated moments had passed throughout the days, and nothing like that night before dinner. I was wound tight and from the way his eyes kept flickering to my lips, I knew he was too. Everytime I would go to take things further, he would steal my hands or push away from me entirely. That same excuse said through gritted teeth. I didn't question it. If it happened it happened but being around him so much made it harder and harder to keep my thoughts at bay. 

This was one of those moments. I was supposed to leave the next morning and my hands were currently wrapped in Eris’ hair. My back pressed firmly against the door of his room. He peppered my neck with small bites that had my blood singing for him. I didn’t reach for his shirt this time, despite the need rushing through me. I instead went to the buttons on the front of my dress. Eris all but growled, “Gods you’ll be the death of me.” He groaned into my neck. I used my grip in his hair to pull his face back to mine. 

“Do you want me to?” I asked, suddenly feeling self conscious. 

“I would want nothing more darling but if you do, you won’t leave my bed in the morning.” He went back to kissing my neck and as he found that sweet spot right below my ear, I let the argument die on my tongue. If this was all I got from him, I would gladly take it. Regardless of how much more I wanted. 

I woke up in the morning with my lips still swollen from the rough kisses the night before. I didn’t need to look at my neck to know the angry red marks that would be faded by the time I left. I sighed at the thought and curled deeper to my blankets. Shutting out the thoughts of leaving and the heaviness that creeped into my bones. 

Eris and I spent the day with his hounds. We walked around the forest, me chasing after them as he hung back, throwing sticks after them. We laughed until our lungs hurt and his pack walked between us with ease, slipping in and out between our legs like they had been doing it all their lives. 

It was finally time for me to leave. Helion was about to come to winnow me back to the Day Court. My bags had already been sent back. And I felt the disappointment on my face as he gave me one short kiss goodbye. As he pulled away from me it felt like the ground was being pulled from under me.

“Eris.” I called to his retreating form. When his eyes met mine it was like the air had been knocked out of my lungs. It shouldn’t be possible. I felt tears well up in my eyes. This could not be happening again. I had lost this chance when my bond with Azriel had been severed. Or had I? No one had ever gone as far as I had before. I didn’t just reject the bond. Helion had pulled it from my body, completely erased it for the both of us. Did that mean I got another chance? A small voice in the back of my head remembered those dreaded words. Maybe the cauldron gets it wrong. Could this be the cauldron making it right? Looking into those amber eyes, it felt right. In fact, nothing had ever felt so right before in my life. It was never like this with Azriel. He never loved me, was never going to love me. But Eris. Eris, who was always kind to me. Eris, who always greeted me first when he visited my old court during Hlyberns reign. It all made sense now. Everything had played out for this exact moment. I took a sharp inhale as I reached out through the bond, expecting that all too familiar coldness I had been greeted with all those years ago.

 Eris’ eyes snapped to mine as his body jolted. His mouth parted, words seeming to fail him. The other side of the bond was not in fact empty. But full of warmth and love. Love for me. We could do nothing but gape at each other as that thread, as golden as the leaves around us, grew thicker as it stretched between us. 

Tears welled in my eyes at the feeling. So much comfort and love running down the bond it almost pulled me to my knees. We both stumbled forward until our arms were wrapped around each other.

“I was so worried you would never feel it.” Eris spoke into the crown of my head. 

“When…”

“The moment I saw you at the ball. The first time I saw you after you cut your bond with him.” I squeezed him as tight as my arms would allow. “I didn’t know the depth of the magic Helion had used on you, I went to talk to him after to see if it was even possible and reading that book further, we realized it was.” I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. The sun reflecting off of them made them honey brown. He smiled at whatever emotion I accidentally sent down the bond. 

“I’m happy it’s you Eris.” He looked shocked. “If I had to go through all of this for it to be you, then it was worth it. Every second of it.” Tears of his own trailed down his face and I placed my head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.  “Don’t go. Stay here with me.” His voice reverberated deep in his chest. “You don’t have to make any decisions right now. But stay here, let me do this the right way. The way you deserved the first time.”  I could do nothing but blush and nod. My throat felt tight at all the feelings, mine and his. A breathtaking smile I had only seen him give me split across his face. My feet suddenly no longer on the ground as he picked me up. My skirt billowed out around me as he swung me lightly around, like he had on the dance floor that night. I squealed in delight and buried my face into his shoulder. Inhaling his deep earth and cinnamon scent and thanked the cauldron that it didn’t always get it right. The first time.

Copying over the people I tagged in the last one! I promise this is the last one I'll tag yall in unless you ask

@cleverzonkwombatsludge @myromanempiree @starsandsins @melmo567 @saltedcoffeescotch @daycourtofficial @anainkandpaper @leyannrae

#acomaf #acosf #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acowar #unrequited love #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris x oc #eris acotar #eris fluff #eris vandaddy #autumn court #a court of thorns and roses #sunbeam oc #mate!eris #high lord eris

[abouttofillhisshoes]

Do you wanna dance? - Matty Healy

A/N: i couldn't help myself, these two deserve to be happy forever and ever xx

wc: 3k

content warnings: mentions of drugs (weed), cursing, typical MPIND banter, kissing, a touch suggestive?

May, 2009 

“I’m so fucking boreddd, kill me now.” you drag your feet on the ground, letting yourself be pulled along by Matty, his hand tightly clasped against yours. He rolls his eyes, begging you to walk properly, and that you would find something to do soon. 

“Carolines?” he suggests, pointing in the general direction of the old paper factory, it being maybe a 25 minutes walk from where you were currently at. You raise your eyebrows at him, a skeptical look on your face. “Really?” you ask, whining about how your feet hurt and you didn't want to walk any further.

“Pretty please, I promise I'll make it worth your while.” he lowers his voice, winking at you cheekily. A groan leaves your lips, and you shove him off to the side, taking a swig from a freshly opened bottle of cheap tesco wine. 

“I’d do alot for you,” you burp, making Mattys face scrunch up in disgust “but i am not shagging you on a terrace, not a chance in fuck.” he laughs like music to your ears, a gross snort slipping out.

You suggest calling your other mates, inviting them for a few drinks on the balcony, just like old times. That small platform just off the main office held dear memories, good and bad. Matty immediately shakes his head, bringing your hand away from the phone in your pocket. “Just you and me, no one else.” He sounds different, you couldn't quite place it. 

“Carry me.” you joke, pressing a dramatic hand to your forehead. Imagine your surprise when you feel a firm hand press against your back, and another wrap around the back of your knees, hauling you up. Your hip hits the bare skin on Mattys chest, another ‘stylistic’ choice of his, only being covered in a thin, see through black shirt. 

“Jesus, fuck, let me down!!” you scream, attempting to push him away. 

All he does is giggle at your struggle, only pulling you closer, planting a sweet kiss on your lips. 

“D’you think I'm too weak to carry you?” you huff, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“I’m too heavy, you’ll proper hurt yourself-” he laughs again, almost in disbelief. “Oh, come off it, I'm pretty strong, you know!” you roll your eyes, shooting him a worried look. He nods, leaning in to give you what you think is another kiss.

Instead, he fucking licks across your face, making you squirm away at the odd feeling. 

“Perv.” you spit, turning your head away from him. He nuzzles his face into your freshly curled hair, humming contentedly as he starts walking down the sidewalk. You notice him adjusting his hands a few times, trying to get a better grip, so you ask to be let down. He refuses, like he’s trying to prove something to someone. It was no use, he was going to see this through, apparently. 

It was wet, the rain from a few hours prior making everything smell like damp concrete. It was barely sunset, the sky painted several shades of blue, purple and orange, clouds sparsely littering the sky. Trees were finally starting to green again, and the warm air kissed your skin, warning you of the hot summer to come. It was late May, breezy and comfortable, even if it was pissing it down most of the time, you didn't mind it, rarely getting sick anyway. 

The back entrance was covered by stacks of cardboard, soggy and flimsy from the rain. Matty tries to set you down gracefully onto a rock nearby, miserably failing as when trips over his own feet, sending you both flying down onto the soft, grassy ground. 

Laughing at the stumble, he kisses you while you're still under him, gripping your cheeks between his fingertips. The moment doesn't last long, wet dirt sullying the back of your shirt, making you whine like a small child. He reluctantly rolls off you, offering a hand to help you stand. Wobbly on your very impractical heels, Matty takes a jab at your choice of footwear.

“Who wears heels to go walk around? You've got fucking ankles of steel or something, thats mad.” he laughs, gesturing at your red platforms, thin straps the only thing keeping them attached to your feet. 

“They’re platforms.” you correct him “You’d know that, if you knew anything ever. Fuck you, you’re just jealous i’m taller now.” It was true, you towered slightly over him, even if only a few inches, it gave you a sense of power. 

Twirling your hair around your fingers, you let Matty lead you up the stairs, hand firmly gripping your wrist. His nails were painted black to match, though they were significantly more chipped than yours, the nail polish peeling off in chunks. 

Still, you found it endearing how he always wanted to use the things you did, whether it be makeup, clothes, even colors. What was yours was his, and what was his was yours, evident au cause de the blue top you were wearing. The stupid tourist shirt, his prized possession. 

The wind had died down a bit by the time you reached the smashed glass door leading to the terrace. Ross had managed to fall through it one night, absolutely wrecked off half a bottle of tito’s, no mixer. The four of you spent hours afterwards trying to pick small shards of glass out of a blacked out Ross, utterly convinced he was dying of alcohol poisoning. Fucking drama queen. 

Orange light floods the terrace, painting the worn down sofa in a warm hue. Matty smirks slightly as he plops down onto it, patting the space beside him, asking a silent question. You smile, the sight of him making your heart swell up with love. God, he looked beautiful, it was almost too much. Thicker chunks of his hair were now dyed blonde, streaks of pink peeking through. Impulse decision, though a good one, the bit of color really suited him.

“You got any?” he asks, tucking both his hands behind his head, spreading his legs, his shirt riding up slightly. A suggestion. 

“What do you take me for?” you giggle, already pulling out your weed. He never brought his own, insisting that if you wanted to roll them yourself, you’d also buy it. His logic was deeply flawed, but honestly, you loved him too much to tell him. 

Rolling the spliff, flashes of memories flip through your mind, you hear Hann’s voice. 

‘Girls don't roll their own spliffs’ God, he was such a dickhead.

“Girls don’t roll their own spliffs.” you giggle, grinning at Matty as you lick it closed, admiring your work. George had given you a few tips, and you’d actually gotten better. Mattys angelic laugh fills your ears, bouncing off the concrete walls. 

“Fuck yeah, I'm your girl.” he says proudly, brushing tangled curls out of his face, slightly more tan than usual, the sun having branded his fair skin. Your eyes roll of their own accord, and you nudge him with your elbow, muttering quietly. 

“Shut up mate, honestly.” he lets out a dramatic gasp at your words, pressing a hand to his chest is faux shock. 

“Do mates do this?” You jump as he snatches the spliff out of your hand, grabbing your face just like he did on the grass before, pressing a hot kiss right beside your mouth, just missing it. Biting back a moan, you feel his tongue slip past your lips, running across your own. 

“Okay, fuck off now, thanks.” you smile, unable to stop yourself. Not when he looked at you with such joy, eyes glimmering in the warm light. 

He hands the joint back to you, your hands brushing against each other. It felt loving, purposeful, real.

Grabbing the lighter from your right pocket, you run your fingers across the worn rhinestone, fondly remembering the day he’d made it for you.

The way he was reluctant at first, only giving in after you physically dragged him through the doors of the hobby shop, forcing him to pick out decorations. His concentrated expression as he tried to pick off the cheap stones, having to let you help him do it after numerous failed attempts. It was one of your favorite days with him, wishing you could relive it a thousand times over.  

Laying back, you hold it in front of you, rotating it over the flame to get an even burn. The smell flooding your senses, you close your eyes, bringing the spliff to your lips. Inhaling deeply, you feel Matty shuffle next to you, shifting and making the sofa creak under him. You try to ignore it, keeping your eyes shut as you feel the drug hit your system, a warm, weightless sensation enveloping you. It was when he moved for the third time that you snapped your eyes open, going to complain.

“Christ, will you stop moving around like tha-” your words get caught in your throat, dying out. 

He wasn't in the spot next to you anymore. No, he was on the floor. On the floor, on one knee, holding a small, red velvet box in his right hand. Your breath hitches as you notice the expression on his face. Anxiety. You could speak, hell, you could barely fucking think. Matty was in front of you, kneeling, holding a white diamond that was shimmering in the light, like a goddamn dream. 

You watch as he opens his mouth to speak several times, closing it before any sound comes out. His eyes fill with panic as you sit up, eyes wide in shock. He was proposing. Properly proposing, with a ring and everything, down on one knee. You’re convinced this is a dream, of a fucking hallucination, something more believable than what was actually happening in front os you. 

“Marry me?” he forces out, hand slightly shaking as you look him up and down, mouth completely dry. You felt tears stream down your face. Obviously, with Matty not being able to read your mind, his eyes dart around your features, trying to gauge what your reaction meant. 

“Holy shit, what the fuck is wrong with you.” are the first words you say, hands coming up to shield your face. The panic only grew as he tries to speak, only things coming out being bits of words and ‘sorry’. 

Shaking your head violently, you reach out your hand, presenting your ring finger. Tears well up in Mattys own eyes, dangerously close to rolling down his puffy cheeks. 

“Yes, oh my god, I fucking love you so much.” you scream, bouncing off your spot on the sofa, lunging towards a very emotional Matty. You catch his lips in a kiss, wrapping your arms around him tightly, not daring to let go 

“Really? You’ll marry me?” he says in genuine disbelief, his left hand gripping your lower back, pulling you close.

“Of course i’ll marry you Matty, christ.” he pushes you away, giddily slipping the silver ring onto your ring finger, planting a soft kiss to the metal. 

“Fucking hell that is a boulder.” you look at the diamond in awe, the stone basically blinding you. He grins from ear to ear, grabbing the fabric of your top, kissing you softly, a gentle warmth spreading throughout your body as your lips make contact. 

“Only the best for my wife.” giggles leave his lips, delirious and ecstatic, disbelief still evident in the way his eyes rake over you, settling on the ring. Pressing a hand to your cheeks, he thumbs the tears away, kissing all over your face. Your heart thrums against your ribcage, threatening to burst out of your chest. 

“Bit early, innit?” you comment, sucking in a deep breath, eyes glued to Mattys. You're both on your knees, concrete digging into the skin of your legs. It was cold, uncomfortable, but you truly couldn't care less.   

“Never too early, Mrs. Healy” he smirks in that cheeky way of his, both hands settling onto your shoulder, rubbing small shapes into your skin. The moment doesn't feel real, nothing does. You hope to god that this isn't a dream, that that this was really happening. 

“Can Hann be the flower girl?” your inability to be serious for five fucking seconds shines through, the both of you falling into each others arms, uncontrollably laughing. Mattys eyes crease as he giggles, the feel of his hands on your body is heavenly, l of his hands touching your skin makes you truly believe you've reached a higher plane of existence. 

“Only if he wears the dress.” 

“Deal.” you say, knowing well that getting Adam Hann into a dress would require months of begging, maybe even bribery. You would probably need to buy him a fucking house to get him to even consider it. 

More laughter, more kissing, more planning a future neither of you had ever actually thought possible. A future with each other. 

Matty fumbles around in his pockets, pulling out his Ipod, initials erratically scratched into the metal. You raise your eyebrows at him, asking a silent question of ‘what the fuck?’

“Do you wanna dance?” he asks, smirking at you as he swiftly stands up, extending his hand. This is so incredibly cliché, and you know that yourself, but you can't bring yourself to care. 

His fingers press one earphone into your ear, before doing the same to his own. He smiles sweetly, expression softening. This was true, raw, unbridled love. 

“Can I choose the song?” you ask, fingers trailing down Mattys jaw as he settles his hands onto your waist. Nodding, he hands you the Ipod, letting you select whatever you wanted. 

“I love you so much, my darling girl.” he mumbled into your hair, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers down your spine. 

“Stop being such a sap,” you laugh, quickly adding a “I love you too.” as to not offend him. As if he would be offended. 

Suffragette City blared through the headphones, the music filling every corner of your being. Your hips swayed, and so did his, guiding you lightly with the hands gripping you tightly. 

You didn't speak, letting Matty spin and twirl you around, breaking out into fits of laughter when you almost tripped over your ridiculous heels. Fuck, they were really a bad idea. 

Stopping for a second, you reach down to unclasp your shoes, kicking them off without a second thought. 

“Already taking your clothes off? We haven't even said our vows yet-” he teases, being met with a sharp look and a hand threaded into his hair, pulling him into a deep kiss. 

“Don't ruin the moment, you wanker.” you mutter against his lips, licking into his mouth as you let him take back control of your movements. 

You don't know how long you dance for, but by the time the two of you finally come up for air, the sun had almost completely disappeared behind the tall buildings of the city. 

Your life together flashes through your mind. That very first kiss. That night in The Sound. Ruby. The drugs. The lighter, smashed into little bits. Your fight with the guys. The night he had called you, shaking and crying, scared. The photos. The sight of him, down on one knee.  

This was it. Everything that had happened; every mistake, every fight, every passionate kiss, every gasp of pleasure when skin met skin, every tear shed since that night at the bus stop had been leading up to this final moment. 

You and Matty, 

Matty and you 

Forever.

Properly this time 

The music faded, the sound of rainfall pattering loudly against the metal roof replaced it. 

A Suffragette City, A Suffragette City

Quite all right

A Suffragette City

Too fine

A Suffragette City, ooh, A Suffragette City

Oh, my Suffragette City, oh my Suffragette City

Ah, Suffragette

Suffragette!

#i actually cried during this #its so sweet #no smut for once surprise surprise #the 1975 #matty healy #ross macdonald #adam hann #george daniel #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #matty healy angst #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 fic #the 1975 fanfiction #the 1975 smut

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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[keymintt]

choke it back

#art #painting #drawing #cmyk #coyote #coyotes #traditional #gouache #black #white #neon #eye strain #my art #tried one of these on black paper this time instead of painting in the black bg dhsgkhfd #greatest hits

[randomshyperson]

Old Yellow Bricks - Heart Shaped Series

Chapter Summary: The conclusion to the adventures of an international thief and an Avenger witch. Or the one where you stop skipping work, Valentina answers the phone and Wanda does an ultrasound.

Warnings: (+18), smut (wanda taking the lead ‘cause that’s hot), bl*wjob, unprotected s*x, creampie, more shapeshifting stuff, some supervillain drama, minor angst with a happy ending I promise. | Words: 7.094k

A/N-> Hey folks, yes, I know I disappeared for a long time but I was so busy and mentally exhausted that I couldn't keep writing anymore, and I used practically half of my vacation just to get a decent amount of sleep. This story was almost abandoned, but I decided to give it an ending, even if it was a bit hasty, out of affection for the plot and out of consideration for those who have followed it up until now. I hope you aren't too dissatisfied with the ending, I tried to address any loose ends and leave it open to the canon we already know. Good reading.

General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 | Series Masterlist

-&-

It shouldn't come as a surprise that you got caught. But you did, mainly because for the past weeks you've felt so comfortable around Wanda that for a moment, you weren't you. No international bounty for your head, not gangs or supervillains or big schemes. 

Just you and Wanda.

Your small argument with the Black Widow was to blame for your distracted state, but fairly, those men were probably following you for a while now, just waiting for the right opportunity to show themselves.

They weren’t aggressive, despite everything. You're just walking a little further from the hotel and this Van - Strategically hidden with paintings from a pest control service - was parked next to the sidewalk and you immediately knew. The door opened and nobody came out. 

It was an invitation.

You took a deep breath and a last glance at the street before getting in.

The face of one of Valentina's most trustworthy henchmen, Mrs. Cassian Camorra,  came to focus in the poorly lit car. He was not alone, masked guards armed to the teeth took every other seat. The only vacant spot was for you.

With a discreet shift, there was no longer much difference between your muscles and theirs. The change made the white-collar man chuckle at you.

“There's no need for that, reaper.” Says Cassian with a smirk. “We're not here for a fight.”

You stare at him with an indifferent expression, lifting your chin a little. 

“The Guns send a different message.” You say but he smiles again just before nodding to the others, who immediately relax their alarmed posture even though they continue to listen to the conversation. In that small space, it would be impossible to do anything else.

You don't let your guard down but sigh once your eyes meet Cassian’s again.

“I don't go by that name anymore, Cass, you know that.”

He chuckles. “Would you prefer shithead?” He teases but you roll your eyes, wishing this conversation would end soon. He laughs again at your expression. “I still don't understand why you would be ashamed of one of your greatest achievements. The Reaper was a goddamn legend! The name gave people the chills!” He recalls excitedly. 

You swallow, shifting in your seat. “Just tell me what you are here for.” You cut his enthusiasm with a sharp demand, managing to make your voice deeper. The security guard next to him has this immediate reaction of touching his gun, but you offer him a cocky smirk before focusing on Cassian again.

He adjusts his suit, one of his hands moving to his jacket pocket to grab something. A small purple cart is extended to you but you don't move a muscle.

“I'm not looking for a job at the moment.” You tell him but he chuckles, flipping the card to show you the back of it.

You thought it was the traditional mission paper with a coding at the back, for you to find target information but instead of that habitual info, there's a written number there.

“The Countess asks to meet in person.”

You don't grab the card. “If that is what she wants, then why didn't she come here herself?”

The man chuckles, and without giving a damn about the concept of personal space, he moves his hands to find your pocket and shove the card inside.

“The Countess is a clever woman, child. Why on earth would she talk business with your new superhero friends around?”

“They are not my friends.” You mutter, pushing his hands away with a slap before pulling the card out of your pocket. “And if she really wished to see me, her face would be the one to welcome me into this car.”

But when you make mention of getting up, Cassian loses some of the calm facade he kept so far. 

“Sit your spoiled ass back right now, kid.” The bodyguards in the two seats behind you grab you by the shoulders, but their hands move away once you are back at your spot so you don't try to start a new fight. “This is the problem with Valentina's little freaks. You all think you're special. She's too soft with your type, so you grow confident in your insignificance. Let me tell you what's going to happen if you don't take this cordial invitation seriously, Lady Fontaine. Every favor for your protection, every deal, is off. You won't be CIA protégée anymore, you'll be on your own. For once in your life. That might talk some sense into your head.”

The anger is burning in your chest because of the cruel words but it spreads around with shame and guilt. Tears beg their way to your eyes but you keep your cheeks dry.

“I've been alone my whole life, Cass. You don't know shit.”

But he laughs, truly, as if you're joking.

“Alone? You? Hydra's golden egg goose?” He mocked managing some chuckles from his colleagues. “You're the one who doesn't know shit, you brat. You have no idea what people like us would do to have the kind of protection you so proudly display without a second thought. The mansions, the travels, the luxury. All that money. And don’t get me started on the attitude. The rest of us living in the gutter, trying to survive out of crumbs while freaks like you get to walk around like you own the world.” He narrates with a trace of bitterness and contained hatred that makes you shudder.  “How many times have you walked out of prison? Do you think it's the same for the rest of us? That we get those same privileges?”

Some redness escapes to your cheeks but you manage to keep your cool.

“I have no power over how things happen in our line of work, Cass. And I am hardly the one you should be angry at. Those privileges you say, believe me, they came at a very high price.”

But Cassian rolls his eyes, dismissing your words with a hand gesture. “Fragile. You always have been. Crybaby should be your next nickname.”

You sigh impatiently and this time, when you move to open the door and leave the car, they allow it without any fight. Standing on the sidewalk, you hear Cass hold the door open and look at him one last time.

He leans for one last warning. “If you ignore her invitation, she will have her answer. And we will be back, this time, not for a conversation.” He lets you know with a little smile that makes you shallow hard. The possibility of putting Wanda in danger makes your heart miss a beat. And when Cass lets out a small exclamation as if remembering something, you somehow know it's not a good thing. He searches in his other pocket only to take a small photo.

“Almost forgot. She asked me to give you this. A gesture of trust, she said.”

But that was nothing trustworthy about Valentina being aware of you and Wanda's relationship, especially for such a long time. The picture is from a security camera and is clear by the poor definition, but still, that day is still fresh in your mind as if it happened yesterday. The Avengers fair you once infiltrate to find Wanda, only for her to end any plan you might had or ever could by kissing you. Inside those tents you were safe but outside, the camera caught the last kiss you stole from her before your departure.

The fact that Valentina knew about this, for so long, makes you feel sick in your stomach.

You don't take the picture - it's a symbol of the false freedom you possessed under Valentina's wigs. You storm off and hear the agents giggling and muttering threats before the car is gone, and so are you when you make a curve that takes you back to the hotel parking lot.

The whole thing made your blood boil. How dare she? What was she even after, what did that photo even mean? Was it a treat? Or it could really be a gesture of trust? Something like, yes she knew and she never did anything about it, so maybe Valentina doesn't want your complete misery.  But then again, you know her well enough to tell that every action she takes is a well-planned one. If she knew about your relationship with Wanda and allowed that with no fuss other than a small bait in the first weeks, telling you to read Avengers files in an attempt to get you away from Wanda, then for sure, Valentina had a bigger plan. 

And for once in your life, you're done with being the pawn.

Wanda's asleep when you're back in your shared motel room so you do your best to keep it quiet on your way to the bathroom.

This will be painful but you're confident you can manage, with your powers help at least.

The small device hidden under your ribs is a high-tech tracker and it's your last physical connection to your old life. It doesn't work unless you want it to, because it answers to a biological stimulation only you can provide. Baron von Strucker gave this to you as a work tool, if you were ever captured, you could call for help without anyone being aware.

You haven't tried to use the device purposefully in years, but sometimes, when being too hurt, it would activate on its own. And because it's quite easy to forget a hidden object behind your ribs, it occurred to you that it has been active since you bled out in Greece, the same day Wanda called to tell you she was pregnant.

The realization that Valentina was aware of your location for so long, Wanda's and her friends especially, rips a sob to your throat. It’s more painful to know you’ve been putting her in danger than the open wound.

You muffle down your crying the second you hear the bed shifting. But luckily Wanda doesn't wake up. Taking a deep breath, your shaky hands keep doing the hard work - to cut open with a medical kit's scalpel your skin so you can remove the tracker.

It's painful of course but it ends quickly. You don't need a badge but it does take a lot of energy to heal on your own so when you're finally back at the bed, after destroying the little device with a squeeze, storing everything else, and getting clean, you're quite exhausted. Stumbling around, you do a poor job of laying down without much noise.

Your girlfriend only grumbles sleepy in return before her magic brings you closer to her body.

-&-

“Wake up.”

It's less gentle than previous attempts, but Wanda had to do it. You were really disturbed in your sleep - mumbling and sweating as if you were running.

Your restlessness and discomfort disturbed her greatly, but she gives you a tender smile as she sees all the tension ease when you meet her eyes.

Sleepily, you close your eyes again the next moment and Wanda takes the opportunity to move the sweaty hair away from your face.

"You were having a nightmare." She mumbles, and she's almost sitting on your lap so you think that it would be a waste to miss the opportunity. Your hands bring her into the position with ease, but Wanda has concern on her face. "Talk to me, detka."

A smile fills your lips, and you remain in a half-asleep state. "I love it when you call me that. You're so lovely, Wanda."

A faint blush fills your cheeks, but Wanda is determined to clarify a few things. "You came back late and as big as a bodyguard. I want to know what happened." She says, and seeing you sigh with your eyes closed, she frowns her heart racing. "Did you find trouble?"

"No, everything's fine." You retort quickly, stubbornly. And Wanda tilts her head incredulously at the clear lie. You finally look her in the eye, and she thinks it's unfair that you're such a pretty liar. Unable to hold her gaze, you look away, the flush on your face more from embarrassment than anything else. "It was nothing." You correct, annoyed, and Wanda sighs at the whole thing. She hopes that one day, your barriers won't have to be so raised all the time and you'll be able to trust her by instinct. But considering the kind of life you've led so far, maybe something like that is just impossible to achieve. 

She moves one of her hands to your face, caressing the skin tenderly. "If you can't put it into words, let me see."

You close your eyes again, nodding, and the invasion is almost immediate. The whole thing happens very quickly - Wanda is getting better at it. Accessing last night's memories is easy, the hard part is dealing with their significance.

When she comes to her senses, the room comes into focus again and so does your turned-away face. Pure guilt and shame in your expression.

"I'm sorry." You say promptly, your voice a bit tearful. " I keep fucking things up. I brought them to us because I forgot the damn tracking, and I got everyone in danger. I understand if you're angry and want to shout at me."

Wanda sighs at the words, shaking her head. "No one's going to be yelling at anyone." She says, her hands moving lower to pull your shirt up a little. She traces the new scar, feeling some of the tension leave her shoulders as she sees that, apparently, you've healed fine. 

"Don't ever do anything like this again." She says, and you sniffle.

"That was the only trace I had-"

"Not that." She cuts in seriously, waiting for you to look at her. Wanda looks more hurt than angry and that confuses you. "You can't just self-harm in the bathroom and sew yourself back up in silence. You have to tell me things. You should let me take care of you, all right?"

Aware that the warmth spreading through your chest is quickly creeping up your neck and ears, you give up on putting together a coherent sentence. You nod quickly, and Wanda gives a weak laugh.

"I'm not angry." She continues, adjusting your shirt again, although her hands remain underneath, drawing patterns on your skin as she speaks. "You're always so... jumpy. And you get into trouble like it's second nature. And you're so incredibly stubborn-"

"Thanks." You grumble ironically, but your annoyance turns into a choke when you feel Wanda shift in your lap. It's an intentional fit at your hips, she's probably noticed the bulge you'd forgotten you were even carrying now. And the fit takes the air out of your lungs and makes your body jerk gently, waking you up completely. 

Wanda doesn't pay a second's attention to your reactions as she continues to talk. "You also have this habit of not letting me finish my sentences." She says with a little grin, her eyes dilating as your breathing starts to get heavy. "And I have to admit that you're hard work, but darling, you're worth every second of that effort. I wish I could take all the pain out of your past, but since I can't, I need you to understand that you're no longer dealing with things on your own. That I'm as devoted to you as you are to me."

These are romantic, intense, and considerate words. But Wanda is grinding slowly against your hips as she says them and you can only return a desperate nod, a deep moan tearing its way into your throat.

Wanda won't even let you lead - Your hands grab her barely covered ass through the oversized shirt she's stolen from you in an attempt to intensify the friction, but bright magic threads pull your wrists away in the next second. 

With your hands pinned to the headboard, you can only squirm at the mercy of the woman on top of you.

"You feel bigger than last time, baby." She whispers, almost losing her train of thought during a particularly hard thrust against your hips. You struggle to breathe.

But Wanda stops, and you bite back a sigh of frustration as you stare at her in a mixture of desperation and curiosity. She works with a certain urgency on your underwear, but instead of rewarding you with her warm cunt, she moves away until she's between your legs, her nails scratching your thighs.

"W-wanda, what are you doing?" You ask, suddenly very shy, your eyes slightly wide. She giggles, as her magic removes your underwear completely, and she leans in, planting kisses on your thighs that make you shiver.

Her dominant hand finally grabs your length and it's not very gentle so you let out something between a moan and a whimper and Wanda looks at you with a certain regret.

"Sorry, babe." She says softly, still holding you now more carefully. "I've never done this before."

Your mouth is dry, and your eyes want to close and just enjoy the sensation, but you fight these instincts to speak. "Done what, Wanda?"

She giggles mischievously, and her hand moves slowly, giving a tentative squeeze that makes the muscles in your thigh twitch. "You know what." She says in return, although you both share the strong blush on the cheeks, Wanda seems more confident about what she's about to do. "It can't be that hard. And if I do something wrong, you can just tell me to stop."

"Wanda, you don’t have to-" But she leans in, and unceremoniously takes your member into her mouth. You break down in an aroused sob, arching up on the bed. 

It's heaven, you're sure. Wanda Maximoff decided to wake you up with a blowjob, it’s a gift from the heavens that you must definitely don’t deserve but you won’t complain. You struggle against the magical chains just as you struggle to breathe and not to come immediately when Wanda continues to suck you off. 

It's sloppy at first - as she mentioned, she had never done that before. But the lack of practice doesn't make the act any less deliriously enjoyable. You feel very close very quickly and have to use all your concentration when Wanda meets your gaze, mouth full.

"Jesus." You groan, your whole body vibrating. Wanda pulls back, licking the tip and your eyes roll back. "Fuck."

She revels in your moans as much as she does in the whole thing. She can feel her own core throbbing at seeing you so pathetically at her mercy, but she wants you to finish first. Her hand moves to help and with each lick of the head leaking pre-cum, your body jerks in a way that makes the bed shake.

"Come on, baby, you can cum." She encourages you firmly as she alternates between sucking and licking. "You need this. And I got you."

You cry out the warning, and Wanda takes your whole length so as not to waste a drop. Your back arches on the bed, and the hot shot is deep into her throat. Wanda moans in return, making a mess all around as you try to return to orbit, your chest heaving and your body jerking.

She kisses your now flaccid member, biting back a smile as she watches the final throbs. Taking advantage of your state, Wanda resumes her previous position on your lap. Her magic fades from your wrists.

Just the brief rubbing of her thick thighs against you is enough for Wanda to feel you harden again.

"Are you sure, babe? You're still shaking." She asks teasingly, but all you give in return is an affected chuckle, your hands helping her to settle into you. The invasion happens slowly, and Wanda groans satisfied at the proof that yes, you are bigger. The stretching is gentle, and it's not painful because she's soaked, but it's still there and she has to bite her lips as she slowly sinks down until you bottom up.

Panting together, you watch her adoringly, your hands on her hips helping her move.

Wanda doesn't rush things. She rides you leisurely, feeling every inch of your cock inside her warm walls until the slowness is too overwhelming. 

Her hands rest on your shoulders, and you don't care that her nails are digging into your skin because Wanda feels too good for you to think of any other sensation than that tight pussy wrapping around you.

She holds your gaze, and between the grunts and moans she lets you know; "I love you." You can only nod, trying to gasp the same when Wanda suddenly bounces harder.

One of your hands grips with more strength, enough to mark the skin and she has to grab the headboard for a firmer support.

You groan at her nearly roughness; "Easy, woman." You try, even though she's grinding vigorously and the room has started to spin. "Wanda, damn it. Be more... ah... careful. You're pregnant...slow down… God."

She comes first, which is a surprise because you honestly don't know how you managed to hold it for so long.

You're still coming inside her when she collapses on top of you, falling down against your shoulder. But then there's satisfied laughter filling the room, and a joke about that being a very incredible way to start a day.

-&-

It's decided that you guys need to move as soon as you and Wanda are properly dressed and Wanda has encouraged you to be honest with the other Avengers.

And she also doesn't need to be a mind reader to know that there's something wrong with Natasha, who doesn't offer more than a mumble of agreement and doesn't say anything about you keeping a tracker jammed in your ribs all this time. 

While Wanda goes out to buy breakfast for the team, you stay behind and busy yourself packing the bags. But she is recognized at the grocery store near the motel when she tries to buy breakfast. It's just a child and her older sister, wanting photos with an Avenger, but it still causes her so much anxiety that she goes back to the bedroom with something more than food: a box of hair dye.

"I thought I'd follow Natasha's idea." That's what she gives as an explanation, and you laugh confusedly but end up believing it until Wanda has bleached spots and ends up confessing what really made her late. 

You're standing in the doorway, and she's focused on painting her hair, her eyes meeting yours through the reflection in the bathroom mirror.

"I'm sorry for not saying it right away. I just didn't want to worry you." 

You let out a sigh before offering her a small smile. "No problem, love." You assure her, reaching over to pick up the empty box of the product and read some of the labeling on the back. "I'm more concerned about whether pregnant women can dye their hair."

Your comment makes Wanda giggle. Her magic continues the process of coloring the spots, and she busies herself with washing her hands at the sink. 

"Well, most pregnant women can't manipulate energy and move things with their minds. I think I'll survive." She jokes back, sticking her tongue out at you when you smile. It ends up being a small grimace battle before you return the empty box to the garbage can and lean in to steal a kiss from her.

Wanda smiles through it, but her cold, wet hands reach under your blouse and make you jump. She laughs at the reaction, and you can barely notice the time passing as you play with each other and wait for the dye to finish settling on your locks.

When Wanda disappears back into the bathroom for a while, you wait for her to finish washing her hair and nothing really prepares you for the new look. Your girlfriend is slightly shy as she reappears, the towel still slung over her shoulders.

"So, what do you think?" She asks about the red hair and you swallow dry, speechless. Wanda blushes immediately, a nervous giggle escaping her lips. "What?"

"You look..." Your voice fails you and you have to clear your throat. "Really beautiful."

Wanda smiles, but then raises an eyebrow, gesturing gently in your direction. "It does seem that you truly like it, dear, I'm flattered."

You blink in confusion, before following her gaze and noticing your own body, and the bulge in your pants. Grinning in embarrassment, you quickly cover yourself with the nearest pillow. "Sorry." You mumble with your ears burning, but Wanda giggles, glancing quickly at the ajar door.

"I wonder if we still have time before we leave." She comments, scarlet threads appearing through the wood with the thought of closing it, but as if guessing the intentions of a delay, the door suddenly opens and Captain Rogers is practically pushed inside by Natasha.

"Nice change, Maximoff. But I hope your suitcases are ready." That's what the widow said, and she looked stressed, most likely because of all the stories about her adventures the night before. If your embarrassment over the tracker story wasn't enough, there was the other one you were trying to hide under your pillow. Wanda disguised it better than you, nodding quickly to the widow and gesturing toward the ready backpacks. "Steve can you take these to the quinjet please, I want to have a word with Romeo and Juliet."

The Captain sighed, trying to ignore being made a baggage handler - Muscles must be good for something - and offered you and Natasha a sympathetic look before leaving the room.

The widow closed the door but you spoke first. “Listen Nat, if this is a second scolding for the tracker, I've already made sure it can't be retraced and-"

"That's not it." She interrupts you with a certain determination, then a forced smile. "I've found a doctor for you. For Wanda, to be more exact."

The now red-haired woman gives Nat a surprised look and it's you who asks; "Are you sure it's safe? Risking a medical appointment in the situation we're in."

"You underestimate me."

"I didn't mean it like that."

But Nat smiles genuinely, shrugging. She checks her watch.

"We're actually going to meet her. Apart from Banner, she's the only doctor I trust."

You and Wanda exchange a look before nodding to Natasha in thanks. Your girlfriend then asks; "That's not all you wanted to talk about, is it Nat?"

The widow nods, seeming to get upset for a moment.

"I'm not saying this for the tracker story, I swear I'm not, but... maybe it's better if Y/N doesn't stay with us anymore."

Wanda snorts indignantly, ready to protest, especially as you lower your head. 

"We stay together-"

"I know." Natasha cuts off Wanda's defensiveness with a sigh. "I wouldn't expect otherwise." She mutters, taking a deep breath to gather her courage. "Rogers doesn't agree, you know how protective he is over you. I mean, he was pretty indignant when Tony tried to ground you in the Tower. Anyway, that's not the point. Clint left. He accepted a decent deal until things settle down, and yes, they will settle down. I know it feels like our world has turned upside down overnight, but we need to remember why the Avengers were created in the first place. It's only a matter of time before they need us, all of us again, and maybe it's experience talking, but I've seen so many governments collapse and rise again. I have seen this movie before."

The widow vents and you and Wanda don't have the heart to interrupt her. 

"What I mean is that Clint can make a deal for his family, and maybe you can do the same."

Wanda thinks for a moment until she swallows. "I'm not an agent with years of military service to my credit. General Ross would never offer me a deal."

"Not him. And not to you." Natasha retorts, turning her face towards you.

You sigh deeply as you understand exactly what she's implying. " Is there really no other option?"

Natasha gives you a sympathetic smile. "That's not an ultimatum, mercenary. Just think about it. None of us wants a pregnant woman in the life of a fugitive, and don't make that face Wanda, I know you don't want the baby to be in danger either." Your girlfriend begrudgingly shuts up, knowing that the widow is right. "Just give it a thought. Melina has agreed to do the prenatal care, so you have all this time to make a decision."

Natasha nods in farewell before heading out the door, and you turn to Wanda.

"Do you have any idea who Melina is?"

-&-

In the safety of the Quinjet and the untraceable lines of the Avengers, you call Contessa Fontaine.

The first thing Valentina says when she sees your face in the high-definition hologram is a scolding; "That tracker was worth a billion dollars."

You have to laugh, your back resting on the cold metal of the ship. "Can't say I'm sorry, boss. Having a tracker in the middle of your ribs doesn't scream work ethic."

She gives a short laugh, and you realize from the surroundings that she's in the private room of the Fontaine Mansion, a place you've been to countless times before.

"What can I do for you, my dear child?" She asks, slightly impatient. You swallow dry.

"Your people said you wanted to see me." You comment. 

Valentina laughs wryly. "Oh, yes, in person. Not talking through an Avengers line. You must have lost your mind."

"There are no more Avengers, Val, you know that." You retort, and she smiles in satisfaction.

"Touche." She mutters before raising her bright eyes to you. "But let me guess, they're listening to this conversation."

You sigh impatiently. "What difference does it make? I've been with them for weeks. I could have told them all the secrets I know about your work, but I didn't. Just as you didn't inform General Ross of their location. So how about we stop playing games?"

Valentina gives another evil little laugh, nodding. "Oh, dear, I miss our conversations, you're always so direct and attentive. Yes, I didn't hand over Team America to Ross, because unlike that arrogant fool, I have no interest in seeing our heroes trapped in the Raft. Only someone like Ross and his ballistics background would think of something as stupid as taking out Earth's main line of defense for threats we have no means of dealing with." You remain silent at Val's words, and she takes a breath to continue. "You know me, Y/N. I like my... enhanced ones. I understand the grandeur of this new world, men like Ross, impressionable with colored rifles, don't."

"So... you've been trying to help the Avengers?"

She breaks into a laugh. "Help? Don't go that far." She retorts grinning. "Let's say we had allied objectives up to the present moment. And I have no reason to put them out of work, you know? In any case, perhaps a little time out of the spotlight and struggling will lower some of their egos. It's a shame that Mr. Stark always seems to shrug off the consequences of his actions, he could learn something without having billions to spare."

You sigh without patience for the speech, adjusting your body. "Val, speaking of money-"

"Oh, it's about time."

With a short laugh, you continue; "I need mine."

She looks at you for a moment, before smiling. "Your money has always been yours to use. Nothing has changed."

But you force a smile, not quite believing it. "Everything has changed, Val. I don't want Lady Fontaine's money. I don't want to be one of your pawns. I want a new account, a new life. With everything I've worked to earn."

"And what makes you think I can give it to you?"

You snort, rubbing a stress point on your forehead. "Please, Val, don't take me for someone naïve, who doesn't know the extent of your influence."

But Valentina sighs deeply, resting her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands, to look at you intently.

"In fact, I'm beginning to think that your naivety is indeed remarkable and, unfortunately, my responsibility." She comments, and you chuckle ironically and indignantly, but she doesn't let you question it. "There is no new beginning for you, Y/N. Not the way you're asking me, not the way you really want. You're deluding yourself if you think I can bring in false documents and billions of dollars without anyone ever finding out the truth. That's not how things work. The bill always comes, and a past so stained with red always catches up with people like us." She says and you swallow, not having the heart to interrupt when you know deep down that she's not lying. Despite her seriousness, Valentina's gaze softens: "I know it's not what you wanted to hear, but all is not lost. You've been walking around for weeks with someone who committed as many atrocities as you did, and yet have been allowed to experience the greatest version of freedom a criminal can get."

It takes a moment for you to realize that she's talking about Natasha. You glance quickly at the main area of the quinjet through the glass of the private room they got you to call Val, and your former boss uses this time to light a cigarette.

"I'm not a black widow."

Val chuckles. "Of course not, they fight much better." She comments and you grimace. Val takes a slow drag, blowing smoke against the camera before continuing to talk; "Speaking of them, you should thank your new friend sometime. The amount of black widows she's put on the market looking for work is what's given you so much time off. I'm not short-staffed, thanks to that."

"I'm glad the rescue of trafficked women has given you new employees, Contessa." You sneer in annoyance, stepping out of the way of the video and ignoring her confusion to tap lightly on the glass. The Avengers outside look up at the same time, but you wave for Natasha and Wanda to come inside. 

"Where'd you go, little bird?" Val asks the wall, and ends up choking on her smoke as the faces of the two Avengers come into focus next to you. "Oh, hello. What an honor-"

"Cut it, Val." You interrupt annoyedly, squeezed between Natasha and Wanda on the seat in the room. "Make your proposal. I want Romanoff to tell me if it's true, because she's the only one with any real experience of these things, and well, Wanda's my partner and she should be up to speed."

Your former boss smiles impressed. "What a lovely thing, a thief and an Avenger, my eyes can hardly believe it." 

You snort impatiently, but Valentina doesn't keep up the teasing. She nods, before turning her attention to the personal computer next to her phone. As she types, she repeats her earlier proposal. "I need to work on it first, dear. But I understand it will be something very similar to the agreements Miss Romanoff signed with Shield when she was hired as an Agent. Serving the American government entirely in exchange for freedom."

Natasha looks at you. "Is that what you want to do? Be an Agent?"

But you shake your head, offering her a sad smile. "There's no more Shield to recruit me. And I don't think I'm fit to be an Avenger anyway. But Val is director of the CIA. She could offer me something perfectly legal. And I could have an almost normal life."

"But what about the Sokovia agreements?" Wanda asks in concern. "You're an enhanced one."

Before you can answer, Val hums and grins. "Oh, I can see why you like that one, she's clever." You roll your eyes at the provocation, wishing you'd gone to see Val in person and could pull a gun on her to make her behave. Your boss stops typing and turns her full attention to the three of you. "Miss Maximoff has a very good point. If you wish to work with me at the moment, a CIA Agent contract, you would be legally obliged to sign the Sokovia Agreements."

You snort impatiently. "I'm not signing something that would force me to become a lab rat again! And certainly not something that says Wanda should be behind bars or-"

"Relax, I didn't say I was going to make you sign it." She cuts in. "And you're the one in a hurry for a new job after all. I don't understand the hesitation to do something that could be entirely bureaucratic if you stay out of the spotlight."

You hesitate, and exchange a quick glance with the two women next to you. Natasha shakes her head in the negative, but Wanda sighs.

"I'm pregnant."

Valentina chokes on her cigarette again, and Natasha covers her face with her hands. You don't know how to react, and Wanda keeps talking.

"Y/N is doing this for us, and if your partnership has meant anything other than work all these years, I know you'll help her."

But Valentina shakes her head, chuckling incredulously to herself. Wanda begins to worry. 

"I don't want to appeal to sentimentality, I'm just asking you to be considerate. Job or not, no one is going to put my family at risk. I won't take it lightly if your people follow and threaten her again."

But Val gestures quickly. "A child, little bird? How can you keep this a secret from me?"

You sigh tiredly. "It wasn't exactly any of your business."

But Val leans over to pick something up from the table, and you frown as you recognize your old research file. "Except, well, it's entirely my business." Val retorts seriously, her eyes running over the pages she's leafing through. Until she lets out a small exclamation. "Yes, here it is. Strucker specifically wrote that you were infertile. And that was a disappointment of course, because everyone who gets an enhanced one, would love to make more of them."

Wanda looks at you with confusion, but you stand up as if you're going to choke on the attention, taking the cell phone with you to the other corner of the room.

"I know exactly what those pages say, you don't have to read them to me." You retort angrily. "Strucker had to believe that he couldn't have more of me, okay? I couldn't..." Your voice falters, but you control your emotions by swallowing hard. "I did what I had to do. The changes to my body so that he would never find out. So that no one would find out. But when I'm with Wanda, I just... I don't think about the past. I can breathe, Val. And it happened. And I'm asking you, if your mentoring has meant anything all these years, to give me a chance to be more than a goddamn puppet. Please."

Your boss remains silent, thoughtful, before sighing and offering you something like a sincere smile, however small.

"Ten years, little bird."

You frown in confusion. "What?"

"Ten years." She repeats. "That's the most I can offer you. Your money, a new identity, a fresh start. Think of it as extended maternity leave. The child will be old enough for boarding schools, and I'll charge you for the services."

"I-I..." You hesitate, looking at Wanda who has an expression that says she can't make this decision for you.

Valentina stands up, taking the phone with her. "I'll work on your contract carefully. Nick Fury is not a foolish man, little bird. He sees the world as I do, the dangers that surround us and that must come from the outside. I like the idea of a team working on my behalf, but it's too early for anything like that. Especially with everything that's happening with the first team." Val continues, and you swallow. She gives you a genuine smile. "And of course, all those years have meant something to me. You're the first person I'd trust with the job."

You want to tell her that this isn't the kind of meaning you'd like, but you think that work reliability is all Valentina can offer you. You nod and thank her and she says goodbye before hanging up.

Natasha thinks it best to leave you and Wanda alone for a moment, and when you sit down on the floor, Wanda sits down next to you. Silently, she holds your hand and rests her head on your shoulder.

"A lot can change in ten years." You murmur, and you don't need to explain for Wanda to understand your hope that you won't have to fulfill any contracts. She squeezes your hand tighter because the decision has already been made. 

Your cell phone vibrates again, not with the CIA contract, but with your new documents and bank account filled with all the money you've earned as a mercenary. It makes your stomach turn with the feeling that you've just sold yourself again, and there's nothing you can do about it.

Wanda turns away to look at you and waits for you to do the same. Once your gazes are connected, she raises her hand to your face and pulls you in to kiss you softly on the lips.

"I'll always love you. Nothing will ever change that." She whispers against your lips, her forehead resting against yours. "I need you to promise that you'll always remember it."

You caress the wrist of the hand she holds to your cheek, and continue with your eyes closed. "I won't remember anything else."

She smiles, ending the distance again.

You kiss for a moment before you pull away to press your lips to her forehead and squeeze her hand. 

"We'll be fine, Wanda. It's me and you, and just one baby. We can manage."

She smiles tenderly, nodding before hiding her face in the crook of your neck and sighing as she repeats the words. "You're right. Two of us, and a whole team of grumpy superheroes to handle one little baby. How hard can it be?"

Six hours later, Melina Vostokoff carried out Wanda's first ultrasound, which would reveal not one, but two little boys growing inside her womb. Both of them had a natural inclination towards superpowers. 

But that's another story.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #heart shaped series #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagines

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Summary: Conflict arises with Harris's new teacher, filling Halloween with more tricks than treats. But it's nothing a visit with Ms. Sweetheart can't fix.

Warnings: allusion to Reader and Eddie's one-night stand, panic attack, Reader's grandma has dementia.

WC: 5.6k

Chapter 6/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

Guns N’ Roses t-shirt: check. Goodwill jeans with makeshift holes in the knees: check. Bandana tied snugly around his forehead: check. Arms littered with an assortment of temporary tattoos: check.

Eddie grins as he assesses his son’s costume, reaching into the thrift store bag as he pulls out the pièce de résistance: a denim jacket, only two sizes bigger than Harris would usually wear. It was a bit over what he’d been hoping to spend, but he’d reasoned with himself that it could also be worn after Halloween. It was an investment, he’d decided, not a splurge.

His smile falters when Harris indignantly stomps his foot, crossing his arms over his chest. While Eddie had hoped his son would go with more badass tattoo options, perhaps a skull and crossbones or even a snake, he had insisted on a Sesame Street theme. Cookie Monster munches on his signature treat as Harris pouts.

“No, Daddy!” he whines, twisting away when Eddie holds the jacket closer to him. “I can’t wear that!”

“C’mon, Har,” he tries, scouring his brain to come up with a convincing enough lie. “Axl Rose wore jackets all the time!”

Harris doesn’t just shake his head; he swivels his entire body back and forth in protest. “I don’t care! No one’s gonna be able to see my tattoos!” He holds out both arms in front of him; nearly every square inch (besides the section blocked by his cast) is covered. Eddie had spent most of last night diligently applying them precisely where Harris had asked, lest there be a tantrum. There was, unfortunately, a headless Elmo from when Harris had asked–no, demanded–that he try by himself. Still, Eddie figured that only one casualty was a win.

“Those are some sweet ol’ tatties,” Eddie muses, biting back a laugh at the two-dimensional Big Bird on his son’s forearm. “But wouldn’t it be cool if you wore the jacket into school and then–BAM!--took it off and surprised everyone with them?

Harris appears to consider this, mouth tucked into his cheeks. “Can I show Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Sure, bud. We’ll stop by her classroom when I pick you up.” Whatever gets us out of the house in weather-appropriate attire. “But first, show me your most metal pose.”

The boy opens his mouth wide and sticks out his tongue as far as it extends, scrunching his face dramatically until the corners of his eyes crinkle. His middle and ring fingers press into his palm, thumb crossing over them, with his forefinger and pinky raised in the quintessential rock ‘n roll symbol. 

Eddie swoops down and smacks a wet kiss to Harris’s cheek. “That’s my boy!”

Standing among the crowd of parents at pick-up, Eddie opts out of making banal small talk and instead chooses to look at the bulletin board. The previous art project that had been hanging against the faded blue paper–”self-portraits” that the students had made on the first day of school–have been replaced by finger paintings of orange blobs that vaguely resemble pumpkins. There wasn’t one for Harris because he was in Ms. Sweetheart’s classroom then, so it’s his first art project in his new class. He eagerly scans the board for Harris’s, frowning when he can’t find his name. 

Maybe it’s still drying, he tries to convince himself, imagining his son over-saturating the paper with globs of paint. It wouldn’t be entirely out of character.

Ms. Marion’s classroom is a sea of costumed children. A boy dressed as one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles stands by his mom. A Cinderella, a black cat, and a Thomas the Tank Engine surround Ms. Paula. As soon as Eddie spots Harris, he smiles and waves him over, hurriedly scribbling his signature on the sign-out sheet.

He expects Harris to zoom past the other kids, fueled by the standard Halloween diet of sugar and chocolate, but he just kind of…mopes to the doorway. His shoulders slump dejectedly, and though he keeps his gaze low, Eddie can still see the film of mist staining his innocent eyes.

“Har, what’s wrong?” He waits for an answer, and when he doesn’t receive one–an oddity for his perpetually chatty son–he tries a new tactic. “Wanna show me where your artwork is? I must be gettin’ old, because I couldn’t find it on the board out there.”

“‘S not there,” Harris mumbles, scratching off a flaking piece of the Rosita tattoo on the back of his hand. “I didn’t get to finish.”

Eddie watches as the tears start to slip down his cheeks, and he brings him into the hallway before Ms. Marion or Ms. Paula sees what’s going on. He can’t be certain, but his paternal instincts tell him that they’ve contributed to Harris’s sad state. “Why not?”

“I-I t-tried, but M-Ms. Mar-Marion and Ms. P-Paula got m-mad at me.” The words come out between choked sobs. “‘C-Cuz I c-couldn’t sit d-down.”

“What do you mean?”

“I k-keeped st-standing up, ‘cuz m-my legs wanted to st-stand.” The explanation tumbles out of him so quickly, as though he’s trying to beat the clock. “And they s-said if I did-didn’t sit down, I c-couldn’t do art. But I k-keeped f-f-forgetting, and th-they t-taked away my pay-pay-paper and said, ‘sit in the c-corner!’”

Eddie’s breath hitches, and he has to clear his throat before speaking again. “Did…did that happen in Ms. Sweetheart’s class? The legs thing?” 

“Mhm,” Harris manages, “b-but she let me stand and d-do ju-jumps to get the wig-wiggles out. She just t-t-telled me not to do ju-jumps with s-s-scissors, ‘cuz of s-safety.” His breathing increases to a rapid pace, face flushing red as his chest heaves. “B-But Ms. M-Marion ye-ye-yelled at me!”

Eddie’s brows pinch together, and he gently presses his calloused palms against Harris’s narrow shoulders, desperate to prevent him from hyperventilating. “Harris, you gotta calm down. I can’t understand you when you’re crying like this!” Despite his efforts, his frustration bleeds into his tone, and he winces when the latter sentence ends with an unwanted snap. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s just an art project.” 

“Harris?”

The sound of your voice draws the attention of both Munsons. You let out a small oof as Harris flings himself against your legs, and though he practically flew the five foot distance between his father and you, now is not the time to remind him about using his walking feet.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” You crouch down, taking his hand in yours, and notice his quick, shallow breaths. “We’re gonna breathe together, okay? Eyes on me.” You demonstrate inhaling for three seconds, holding for three seconds, and exhaling for three seconds. “Now let’s do it together.” 

He hesitates but ultimately follows your lead, and you guide him until his breathing slows enough for him to sputter, “I t-tried to sit, b-but I c-couldn’t.”

You haven’t the slightest idea what he’s referring to, but Eddie fills you in. You feel the heat of anger creeping through your body, not just for the way your co-worker treated the sweet boy, but for her insolent approach to teaching as a whole.

“We can go to my classroom,” you offer, silently sighing in relief when the boy nods in agreement. “I don’t know if I have the supplies to make the same project as Ms. Marion, but if you have a few minutes, you can draw something now. I bet Mr. Will would love to help you; he’s a super-duper artist.”

Just as you’d predicted, Will jumps at the opportunity to help Harris with his impromptu art project, encouraging him to draw something that makes him happy. While he does that, you comb through the mess left behind from the Halloween party you’d thrown. You’d sooner toss one hundred cupcake wrappers in the trash before attempting a conversation with Eddie Munson. He’s simply too unpredictable; kind and thoughtful one day, harsh and guarded the next.

One of the wrappers in your hand drops to the floor and you reach forward to pick it up, pinching the pleated material between your pointer and middle fingers. You can feel Eddie’s eyes on your form, the way the backs of your thighs are slightly exposed when you bend over, and you stand up quickly. 

“Are you the Magic School Bus lady?” He takes in your lavender dress with planets and stars stamped all over it. Oh. He wasn’t checking you out; he was just trying to figure out who you’d dressed up as. Good. Anything else would be inappropriate.

So why does a twinge of disappointment radiate through you?

You glance at your costume; with all of the commotion, you’d forgotten you’d even been wearing one “I mean, would I even be a teacher if I didn’t jump at the chance to be Ms. Frizzle?” You motion over to Will, decked out in green from head to toe with two yellow horns glued to a headband atop his mop of brown hair. “Have you met my trusty sidekick, Liz the Lizard?”

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, Byers actually used to play in my D&D club back in high school. Made some pretty sick art pieces to liven up that dingy excuse for a room.”

You look between the two of them, trying to do the mental math. “Will, didn’t you say you’re twenty-four?” And if Eddie is thirty, that means…

“I, uh, had a little trouble graduating,” Eddie sheepishly admits, ruffling the back of his hair and offering a tight grimace. “But I got there eventually. Class of ‘86, baby!” 

“Worked out for me,” Will shrugs with a grin, looking up from Harris’s drawing. “You were the best DM Hellfire ever had. Although, rumor has it that Erica Sinclair gave you a run for your money.”

Harris picks up a yellow marker, furiously scribbling a circle in the left-hand corner of his paper. You try peering over to see the whole drawing, but he presses his whole body against the table, successfully thwarting your plans. “No peeking!” he warns, not putting his feet back on the ground until you’ve averted your gaze. “‘S a surprise.”

You put your hands up in surrender. “All right, all right. I’ll be surprised.” You raise your eyebrows at Eddie, who shares a similar response in return.

“Dunno when he got so bossy,” he snorts before calling out to his son, “Har-Bear? Five more minutes. We gotta get home to trick-or-treat with Grampa Wayne.”

“Ooh, that sounds like fun!” you echo as Harris grabs a purple marker from the box. “What’s your favorite candy?”

“Hmm.” Harris uses his free hand–the one with the cast–to tap his chin, continuing to color with the other one. “M&Ms. But only the plain ones. Daddy doesn’t let me have the peanut ones ‘cause he says I could choke.”

You shoot a sly, knowing look at Eddie. “I’m sure that’s the only reason. Such a selfless father.” You cross your arms over your chest and cock your head innocently. “And what do you do with all of these confiscated peanut M&Ms, Mr. Munson? Donate them?” 

Eddie tucks his lips into his mouth to mask his grin. “Listen, the jig is gonna be up at some point,” he mumbles out of the corner of his mouth, loud enough so you can hear but soft enough that Harris can’t. “Let me enjoy my free candy while it lasts.”

“No judgment here,” you say with a small laugh, “they’re one of my favorites, too.”

“TA-DA!” Harris shouts, startling you, Eddie, and Will. He holds up the construction paper and smiles widely. To anyone without kids–or who didn’t teach preschool for a living–it would look like a bunch of colorful scribbles. But you can tell that he’s drawn a group of people standing by a tree (or a really, really tall flower) underneath the sun.

“Wow, Harris! That’s amazing!” you clap your hands together to punctuate your enthusiasm. “Who are all those people?”

Harris’s pointer finger travels left to right across the paper as he names each person: “That’s me, Grampa Wayne, Daddy, you, and Mr. Will!” The stick figure that represents you has a purple scribble on it, which you realize must be the costume you’re wearing. “An’ we’re all smiling because we’re happy!” Sure enough, each person has a curved red line at the bottom of their face. But there’s something else that catches your eye.

All of the people have a small space between them, except for you and Eddie. The circle that Harris drew to represent your left hand overlaps with the circle that is Eddie’s right. 

You glance at the real Eddie, and if he notices, he doesn’t give any indication. “I love it, buddy.” He takes the drawing and inspects it closely. “Yup, this one’s definitely going on the fridge when we get home.” He flicks the paper for good measure. “Go clean up the markers so we can head out, Axl Rose.”

Among the noise of markers clattering back in the bins, you lean in to Eddie, inadvertently inhaling the scent of his cigarettes and cologne. For a brief moment, you’re transported back to the night fate had led you to cross paths; the thought of his lips on your neck in the stairwell has you clenching your thighs and swallowing thickly as you murmur, “I can ask him to make a new one with just you, him, and his grandpa.”

Eddie shakes his head. “N-No. I like this one.” He lets one hand drop to his side and it grazes yours. His rings brush your knuckles, and you instinctively draw back at the sensation of the cool metal and the zing of heat that pulses at his light touch. “Sorry,” he mumbles, not making eye contact.

“S’okay.”

He blinks a few times and redirects his attention to his son. “What do you say to Mr. Will and Ms. Sweetheart for letting you do your art project?”

Harris’s little chest swells as he inhales deeply, storing up as much oxygen as he can fit in his lungs before bellowing, “THANK YOUUUUUUU!”

Eddie brings his palm to his ear canal, rotating his forefinger as though trying to repair a punctured eardrum. “Love the enthusiasm,” he says through gritted teeth. “Seriously, though. Thank you both so much.”

“Of course,” Will says warmly, picking up the marker bin and placing it in its space on the shelf.

“Anything for Harris.” You smile, motioning towards the little boy already by his father’s side. “Have fun trick-or-treating tonight, bud! I can’t wait to hear about all the yummy candy you got.”

Harris scrunches his nose in contemplation. “Are you going trick-or-treating, Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Nah,” you laugh, “I’m gonna stay home and give candy to all the kids who come by.” And pray that Grandma doesn’t curse them out, you silently add.

“Oh.” Harris pauses, grabbing his dad’s hand. “Okay, bye!”

Eddie chuckles as his son pulls him towards the door. “That’s my cue. Um, Happy Halloween,” he adds awkwardly, waving once before disappearing down the hallway.

There’s so much more that he wants to say: you’re the best; you saved the day; you should be my son’s teacher instead of that old, bitchy bat. But he didn’t have time. Maybe another day. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

Wayne arrives just a few minutes after Eddie and Harris get home. As soon as his gruff voice comes over the intercom, Harris excitedly buzzes him in. “Grampa Wayne’s here!” he yells, even though Eddie’s standing right next to him. He grabs the pillowcase from the couch; it was originally white, but after Eddie accidentally threw in a red sock with the white laundry, it’s tinted light pink.

No sooner does the older man cross the threshold into the apartment, Harris is trying to drag him out again. “Let’s go, before all the good candy is gone!” he whines. His eyebrows pinch together and he drops his grandfather’s hand. “Oh, wait, I gotta show you something.” He scampers off into the kitchen, and Wayne winces when he hears the rattle of magnets falling to the floor.

“I’m okay!” Harris calls out, running back with a piece of paper in his hand. “Look what I drawed at school today!” He gives Wayne the rundown of who’s who.

Wayne analyzes each person in the picture, stopping at the overlapping circles between you and Eddie. “This is great, Har-Bear,” he muses. “Are, um, are Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart holding hands?”

“Mhm,” Harris casually confirms, taking the drawing back. “‘Cause they’re married.”

Eddie chokes on air as Wayne does a double-take. “Congrats, Ed,” he jokes, clapping a hand to his nephew’s shoulder. “Gotta say, I thought I’d at least get an invite.”

“Shut up,” Eddie grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Harris, why do you think that Ms. Sweetheart and I are married?” He wracks his brain for answers, but he can’t come to a logical conclusion. Did I talk about her in my sleep? Oh, shit, what if it was when I had that dream—

“Because you gived her a present,” Harris says, eyes innocent and wide. “And when grown-ups love each other, they give each other presents.”

“Oh, he gave Ms. Sweetheart a present, huh?” On the surface, Wayne’s words are as innocuous as Harris’s, but Eddie hears the teasing buried just beneath. 

Harris nods. “Mhm. He gived her a tape!”

“It was the Toni Braxton one that she came into the shop for…that day that, uh…” Eddie raises his eyebrows at his uncle, who nods in acknowledgment. He brings his focus back to his son. “It doesn’t mean that we’re married. People have to go on dates and fall in love before they get married.”

The young boy absorbs this information. “So you should go on dates and fall in love with Ms. Sweetheart!” His face lights up at the idea of it, and it breaks Eddie’s heart to let him down. 

So, he doesn’t. 

“Why don’t you hang that back up so we can get outta here and get you some candy, huh?” He forces a smile and watches his son scamper into the kitchen before turning back to Wayne and shaking his head. 

Harris peels a magnet off of the fridge, the one Eddie bought him on their Daddy-Son day. It has a sea lion balancing a beach ball on its snout, with HAWKINS ZOO printed in bolded letters along the bottom.  

Lowering his voice to a whisper, he speaks directly to his drawing. “When Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart fall in love and get married, I’ll finally have a mommy.” He presses his hand flat against the paper as though he’s sealing in the wish. He stays like that for a moment until his dad calls his name, and he clutches his pillow case as they head out the door. 

Eddie assumes that the love and marriage talk is done for the evening, but the feeling of relief doesn’t last long. The trio of Munson men is halfway down the stairwell when Wayne starts instigating. “Hey, Har, is Ms. Sweetheart pretty?”

“WAYNE!” Eddie grits his teeth and shoots a sharp look at his uncle. The last thing he needs is for Harris to get his hopes up about a blossoming romance between his dad and his former teacher. 

“Oh, yeah!” Harris gleefully agrees, oblivious to the mounting tension. He grips the railing and jumps from the second to last step onto the tiled landing below. “Super pretty! Like a princess.”

The eldest Munson turns to Eddie. “Didja hear that? Pretty like a princess.”

“I heard him,” Eddie replies tersely. 

“Daddy?”

No. Don’t ask me. Harris Wayne Munson, do not ask me what I think you’re going to—

“Do you think Ms. Sweetheart is pretty?”

Although he anticipated the question, Eddie still freezes. If he disagrees, Harris will inevitably want to know why not. And if he’s being honest with himself, he can’t name a single ugly thing about you. 

He does think you’re pretty. He thinks you’re beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. And even though he’s literally seen you naked, fully on display for him–a memory he revisits more often than he’s willing to admit–it’s the thought of what you did today that solidifies your beauty. The way you��d effortlessly calmed Harris down without Eddie even having to ask. The frown on his face almost instantly became a smile, the flow of his tears ceasing and turning into the giggles that brought sunlight into Eddie’s life. You did that.

Any woman can be sexy, but you? In that moment, you were perfect.

Fuck. 

“Daddy? Hello?”

At the sound of Harris’s voice, Eddie realizes that he physically hasn’t moved from his spot on the stairs. His hand is gripping the banister so tightly that it leaves an imprint in his palm. “Yeah, buddy,” he manages through his Sahara Desert throat. “I think Ms. Sweetheart’s pretty.”

“Like a princess?” Wayne’s eyes twinkle mischievously. It’s been a long time since he’s been able to tease his nephew about a crush, and he’s not passing up this limited opportunity. 

“Yeah. Like a princess.”

Education outsiders might think that Halloween is one of the worst days to be a teacher. The lethal combination of sugar and excitement barely contained in tiny costumed bodies seems like a recipe for disaster. But any teacher worth their salt will tell you that there is a day far, far worse than Halloween: November 1st. 

On Halloween, there is the expectation for fun. There’s a costume parade, classroom trick-or-treating, and even a little party. The kids are out of control, but who cares? It’s Halloween. 

But on November 1st, there is work to be done. And you’re expected to teach the months of the year to 10 four-year-olds who are suffering from candy hangovers and won’t stop asking why they can’t go trick-or-treating again today. 

You and Will are preparing for battle as students trickle in, excited to show off the candy stashes they acquired the night before. Abby Carver cries because she ate her Reese’s cup and now she’s sad that it’s gone. Joshua Harrington is continuing to “sling webs” at the other kids despite your incessant reminders that he is no longer Spider-Man. A fight over a KitKat bar breaks out not even five minutes into the day, and you confiscate it before someone causes serious bodily harm. 

Two fingers lightly tap on your shoulder—too high up to be a kid—and you whirl around with an irritated, “what?”

“Whoa,” Eddie says, concern etched into his otherwise soft features. He takes a small step back, nearly tripping over a rogue Lego that somehow made its way out of the toy area. He stumbles but catches his balance easily. “Everything okay?”

“‘S a warzone out here,” you try and joke, but you feel it fall flat. You’re too tired for humor. Grandma may not have yelled at the trick-or-treaters like you’d feared, but she did get increasingly angrier with each knock on the door. After the fifth time of her snarling at you to “shut the hell up” (like you could simultaneously be on both sides of the door), you’d relented and just put the candy bowl on the welcome mat, scribbling “TAKE ONE” on a yellow sticky note, adhering it to the plastic container. 

Two decades earlier, Halloween at Grandma’s house had a completely different connotation. She’d have a little pizza party all set up for you, and she’d buy a big bag of your favorite candy, in case you didn’t get enough during your door-to-door quests. And she’d always let you watch whatever spooky movie your heart desired, regardless of your parents’ rules. 

“That’s what grandmas are for,” she’d said with a wink, and the two of you curled up to watch Little Shop of Horrors. Her demeanor matched the hokey magnet on her fridge that read, If I knew how fun my grandkids would be, I would’ve had them first. You’d stay like that until you both fell asleep, only being roused by your parents arriving to pick you up. The good old days, before Grandma waking up involved watching the confusion in her eyes as she tried and failed to place you.

“C-Can I help you with something?” Your guard goes up immediately when you notice that Harris isn’t with him. The time you’d spent together after school yesterday had been nice, fun, even, but you couldn’t trust that today would be the same. Not after what happened a few short weeks ago. 

“I, um…I just swung by to give you this.” He reaches into the inner pocket of his denim jacket; it’s the same one that he lent to Harris when he’d forgotten his at home. A flash of yellow paper catches your eye, and he unfurls his palm to reveal a small bag of peanut M&Ms. “You said they were one of your favorites, right?”

You look at the treat, not willing to reach out and grab it. What if it’s a joke? An elaborate ploy to reel you in, just to shout “gotcha” when you finally let your walls come down?

“Are they poisoned or something?” you quip, crossing your arms over your chest. “Did you spike them with Ex-Lax?”

Eddie’s lips part in surprise before he collects himself. “Guess I deserve that,” he mumbles. “But, no. They’re not. I swear on James Hetfield’s life.” He drags his fingernail over his heart in an X-formation. 

You take the bag, inspecting it for any sign of tampering, but you come up short. The edges are sealed, and there are no pinpricks as far as your eyes can see. “Dipped into Harris’s stash for me?”

“Hey, these bad boys are technically mine for the taking until he figures out that he can eat them without dying.” Eddie chuckles lightly, peering at you through impossibly long lashes. “But, yeah, I was hoping you’d accept these as part of my apology. Or apologies, I guess. For, uh, for not calling when I said I would, and all of the awful shi—awful things I said to you.” His voice is barely above a whisper as he steps closer and says, “I am so fucking sorry.”

You make a small tear in the bag, tapping it against your palm until an M&M falls out. Popping the blue candy in your mouth, you allow the shell to start dissolving on your tongue before crunching on the peanut, hoping you can process what he’s said by the time you’re finished chewing. 

This is what you’ve been waiting for—an actual heartfelt apology. His brown eyes reflect nothing but shame and remorse, and you can tell by the way that he’s fidgeting with his rings that he’s anxiously awaiting your reply. 

His vulnerability softens you slightly, and considering you haven’t keeled over after ingesting the candy, you throw him a bone. 

“This fun size bag covers the ‘not calling’ part, but I’m gonna need a lot more candy if you want me to forgive you for what you said at the music store.” You keep your tone light; teasing, even, but there’s a layer of truth to it. He can’t merely waltz into your classroom with a gift and expect you to forget his hurtful words. 

Eddie nods, his frizzy curls brushing the tops of his denim-clas shoulders. “I know. I’ve said some pretty terrible things in my life, but that might’ve been the worst. And, um,” he fumbles his words, desperately searching for the right ones. Semantics has never been his forte. “You didn’t deserve that. It’s not true; your grandma didn’t want to forget you. And…neither do I.” When you raise your eyebrows, he starts to backtrack. “Because you’re so great with Harris; like, you understand him and stuff. He’s always talking about you.”

Daddy, do you think Ms. Sweetheart is pretty? The question replays like a song he can’t shake from his head, its melody familiar but the notes still keeping him on edge. Pretty like a princess, only instead of saving her, I’m the one who needs to be rescued. So much for Prince Charming, huh?

The M&M melts in your mouth while you formulate a response to his candid admission. Sweetness seeps into your taste buds as you try to straddle the line between careful consideration and overthinking. Speak too quickly and you might say something you’ll regret. Take too long and you’ll make this even more awkward.

“W-Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Short, simple, to the point. Your words are slightly slurred by the candy obstruction, but what else is there to say? You could add that you forgive him, but you’re truthfully not sure that you do. His words scarred, had taken your already mangled self-worth and snapped it into pieces, and so did his reasoning for hurting you. Despite the love and kindness you’d shown his son, Eddie had fully believed that you were responsible for spreading personal information that would wound him. It was exactly as Jeff had said: Eddie struck below the belt at the first sign of conflict, so determined to protect himself that he didn’t even realize that he was attacking the people on his side.

The sound of books clattering to the floor snatches your attention from him, and you whip your head to your little classroom library to see two kids standing over a pile of fallen books, guilty looks stamped on their faces. “I’ve gotta go,” you blurt out, dashing off to assess the damage. You’ve never been so grateful for your students causing mischief.

The hour hand crawls to the number two; at one point, you swore the clock was moving backwards. The chaos of the morning was only a preview of the rest of the day’s fiascos, but you and Will had navigated as best as you could.

“Jesus,” he murmurs once the kids have all been dismissed, gingerly rubbing his temples, “that was brutal. I can handle the day after Halloween; I can handle Fridays, but when they coincide? Nope, never again.” He slumps into a chair dramatically, letting his arms drape over the sides.

“Gonna have a glass of wine when you get home?” you joke, wiping Play-Doh residue from a tabletop.

Will nods. “Or a whole bottle.” His focus shifts to your desk, and he nods his chin in that direction. “I see you have something to look forward to tonight, too.”

You follow his gaze, widening your eyes when you see the object he’s referring to. A bag of peanut M&Ms–much bigger than the one you’d inhaled this morning–sits on top of your desk calendar; resting next to it is a cassette. You walk over, curiosity getting the better of you. The cassette is Guns N’ Roses’ Appetite for Destruction; you recognize the iconic cover as soon as it comes into view. It’s not your usual music choice, but you’ll listen to almost anything.

There’s a piece of paper taped to the giant yellow M&M bag, folded in equal triads. Messily scrawled across the front in black ink is Ms. Sweetheart. You gently pull the adhesive loose and open the letter, nervously running your forefinger across the irregular edge where it was obviously torn from a composition notebook.

Fun size mistake=fun size bag of candy

Family size mistake=family size bag of candy

I’m really good at fucking things up, but really bad at fixing them. I wish I could say that I didn’t mean to hurt you, but we both know that I did. 

You don’t have to forgive me, but I need you to know how sorry I am. 

-Eddie

P.S. Not sure if hard rock is your thing, but I saw this at work and it reminded me of the kindness you showed our favorite little Axl Rose yesterday.

“Who’s it from?” Will asks, breaking into your thoughts. “A secret admirer?” He brings his clasped hands to his cheek in mock dreaminess.

You manage a laugh as you fold the note back up and tuck it under the calendar. “If it is, he’s really bad at it, because he signed his name.” When did he even sneak in here to do this? Kind of scary that someone could walk in and you didn’t even notice.

“Aha! So it is a guy!” Will pumps his fist triumphantly, though you’re not quite sure what he thinks he’s won.

“Just Eddie Munson, thanking us for letting Harris draw here yesterday.” 

It’s not a total lie, but Will sees right through it. “Uh-huh. Thanking us? So that note is also for me? Can I read it?” He starts towards your desk, outstretched hand reaching towards where you’d tried to hide it, but you playfully swat them away.

You glance at the clock and frown. “If you leave a little early, I won’t tell anyone.”

Will flips you off; over the last two months, you two had developed a sibling-esque relationship that came out more once the kids had left for the day. He grabs his backpack from the supply closet and slings it over his shoulders. “You’re lucky I’m exhausted, or I’d stick around and keep bothering you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes, knowing full well that he’s itching to leave regardless. “Gotta save up your energy for when Marshall visits.”

Will blushes at the mention of his long-distance boyfriend’s name. He still wasn’t out to many people, but when you’d casually mentioned the date Jess had with a girl named Robin, he’d felt comfortable opening up to you. “I can’t wait!” His grin is so wide you swear it’ll stretch right off of his face. “Thanks again; you’re the best.”

That leaves you alone with your gigantic bag of candy, a Guns N’ Roses cassette, and an apology that you have no idea what to do with.

Once again, Eddie Munson has given you more questions than answers.

--

taglist:

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#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

[zeraaachan]

the coffee you spilled all over him ft. riddle and leona

ੈ♡˳ . in which you spilled coffee all over him and tasted sweet consequences.

riddle rosehearts.

The coffee you spilled all over him tastes like annoyance and frustration. Oh, he's sure it's all an honest mistake like you claim as you apologize over and over again. But Riddle Rosehearts is also sure that his notes are now honestly destined to the bin. The coffee you spilled all over him wouldn't taste as bitter, if only it didn't also painted his notes with brown and cream.

The coffee you spilled all over him back in your first week of college became savored by his clean and pristine notes. It coated the immaculate letters with the smell of caffeine and drenched the paper in a soggy glory. The coffee you spilled all over him is not as hot as the steam now coming out of the red haired housewarden's ears, who looks as if he's tempted to take your head off. Riddle Rosehearts looked at you for a long moment, insults threatening to come out of his lips as frustration bubbles from within him. But when he saw the panic and regret in your eyes as you fret over his notes and swear to make it up to him, Riddle Rosehearts, the tyrannical housewarden, for once, chose to turn his back before his rage further ruined what was already messed up.

The coffee you spilled all over him two weeks ago can now barely be remembered. He disposed of his notes long ago and acted as if nothing happened. Your apologies are only acknowledged with a nod yet no actual forgiveness was given. Perhaps Riddle cannot forgive you for making a coffee art out of his notes. Or perhaps not.

A small but discreet smile played on his lips as he picked up the clean and new notebook left on his desk, one that is identical to the one that became soaked with coffee. The petite man opened the notebook, going through the letters and notes written that are similar word by word to what he wrote on his notebook except for the messier handwriting. Riddle Rosehearts, can see that his notes are written letter by letter and in a way that seeks to imitate his ruined ones. He can guess that perhaps you picked the notebook he threw to the trash. Maybe you spent the night rewriting his notes seeing how your head is threatening to drop on the desk as you fight off your sleepiness.

The red tyrant closed his new notebook, carefully holding it with one hand, as he make way to the person who looks like they need a kick of caffeine.

A knock on your desk. A stoic but not a harsh look on his face. A subtle, very subtle red on his ears and cheeks if you'll look closely. And a simple offer in exchange to the notes you made up to him. "Do you have time for a cup of coffee?"

leona kingscholar.

The coffee you spilled all over him didn't spill to him at all. Instead, with lithe moves and reflexes as agile as a cat, Leona Kingscholar sidestepped and the coffee destined to embrace his shirt fell to the floor instead. But it didn't stopped some drops to splatter on his black shoes. Perhaps, yes, perhaps, perhaps he should've really caught you instead and prevented you from falling. He could've done that, but he didn't. Leona Kingscholar is the cat to your cat and mouse games. So you shouldn't have been surprised if he asked a month of service in exhange for the shoes you supposedly ruined with a few drops of coffee.

How can anyone refuse the second prince of Sunset Savanna anyway? You tried, but still how can anyone refuse when it wasn't a request but a demand.

Every morning you run to make errands for him, competing with Ruggie to see who is the most battered with exhaustion by the end of the day. Every morning, at the exact time before he wakes up, the lion makes his little mouse fetch a cup of coffee as if a reminder to rub salt on the wound that caused your situation. And every morning you'll present the coffee he requested, one that is coicidentally brewed the way you like it. But every morning Leona Kingscholar will only grin and make you drink the very coffee you sprinted for.

The coffee you spilled all over him is similar to the cup of caffeine you now always have ever since you started being a pair of feet to run for the lazy lion. Morning, run, coffee, no, drink. The repetitive cycle of sprinting like you life depends on it to the nearest coffee shop and coming back panting to give him his drink is already about to come to its end. Two weeks, three weeks, 'til came the last morning of your run. However, as soon as you opened the door to your unit to sprint for the king's coffee once again, you found the lion out of his den and at the front of your door instead.

Leona Kingscholar, the man you served for a month due to drops of coffee sprayed to his shoes, the same cocky man who only watched you with a smirk as you obediently drink the coffee he made you fetch, the lazy lion who listened to you ramble for an entire month, and the same man who is now outside your unit, hands on his pockets, as he leans on the door frame. "Shall we grab some coffee?"

in an owo mode today ✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧

part 2?

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #disney twst #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts fluff #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar fluff #riddle x reader #leona x reader #twisted wonderland fluff #the spirit of fluff possessed me >:33

[pillow-anime-talk]

12 fluff promt for uta plz

# tags: scenario; current relationship; soulmate!au (tattoos); light romance; fluff; couple goals; sfw

includes: gender neutral reader ft. uta {tokyo ghoul}

author’s note: hope u like it :) have a nice day/night!

12. “But we are not married.” “Then marry me.”

Punk music played at medium volume and spread throughout the building, and you jiggled your right foot to it while keeping your both eyes on the colorful magazine in your hands. From time to time you also glanced at your boyfriend, Uta, who was a few meters away from you, tattooing another client who wanted a huge red dragon across the entire width and length of his back. His concentration was really intriguing, and not even your warm gaze could snap him out of trance.

That’s why, after a few tries, you focused entirely on the thick periodical, reading about the biggest fashion bloopers of this month and dozens of romances in the world of showbiz stars.

{ ･ﾟ✧ }

After another three hours, Uta finished part of the tattoo and thanked his male client for staying in the uncomfortable position for that time. Together with a middle-aged man who had a black beard and dark eyes, they agreed on the last meeting, and thus the last part of the beautiful painting that was to appear on the right shoulder blade. They shook hands, wished each other a nice evening, and then Uta closed the front door to his small tattoo studio, which he had been running for years on his own with no other employees. He turned off all the lights, then returned to a room decorated with a tattoo table, several cabinets, special equipment and a trash bin.

There was also a small, dirty-green leather couch and a table with a glass surface. There was you on the sofa, clutching a magazine in your hands, though your eyes were squeezed tight and your mouth slightly open. The calm face and light movements of the chest spoke loudly about the fact that somewhere in the middle of Uta’s work you fell asleep, and the only thing that appeared in your sleepy thoughts was the desire to drink a cup of coffee without milk and sugar.

For a brief moment, Uta didn’t have the heart to wake you up because he knew your life had been quite stressful in recent days and you had a lot of responsibilities in your private life, but at the same time, he didn’t want your head to hurt after this short nap, or worse, your back and neck.

Before waking you up, however, he glanced at one of the hands that was touching the paper and smiled at the small tattoo adorning your little finger. The drawing showed a full moon; light streaks and lines were made with the utmost precision – the tattoo looked like a real moon that can be found in the sky. After briefly glancing at your finger, he looked automatically at his own left hand and the left corner of his mouth twitched. On his pinky there was a drawing of the same size – the only difference was that there was a tiny sun on his pale skin.

He sighed though, touching your soft cheek covered with gold highlighter.

“... Mgmhm...” You muttered something unintelligible under your breath, which made the man laugh again. “Uta... It’s your turn to... Y-You have to take our kids to school... Mhm...” You said a little more clearly, though your voice was still quiet, muffled by yawns and the desire to stay asleep. It was, after all, close to eleven in the evening.

“Kids?” He raised an eyebrow and the silver earring a bit up. “But we are not married.” He added directly into your ear, and you wiggled your nose, keeping your eyes shut.

“Then marry me.”

Surely you dreamed something nice – there was a slight smile and a huge blush on your face. Uta gave up and decided not to wake you up. Instead, he lifted your body off the couch with no problem. He had placed the magazine on a glass table a moment earlier, next to a small candlestick and a vase of dead roses.

You were already soulmates, and that meant the bonds of marriage. Nevertheless, the vision of you two with a bunch of children and then grandchildren, although too beautiful, did not have to be unattainable.

#—🎉 #quote prompts #prompts challenge #4k followers #4k special #prompt 12 #tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul imagine #tokyo ghoul imagines #tokyo ghoul scenario #tokyo ghoul scenarios #tokyo ghoul x reader #tokyo ghoul x you #tokyo ghoul x y/n #uta #uta imagine #uta imagines #uta scenario #uta scenarios #uta x reader #uta x you #uta x y/n #uta tokyo ghoul #uta tokyo ghoul imagines #uta tokyo ghoul scenarios #uta tokyo ghoul x reader

[hopleii]

bsd characters (of your choice) x reader who loves bows, baby pink, and dainty things <33 love ur profile and aesthetic so i think you'd have fun with this one

pretty pink ribbon . . .

content: chuya x fem!reader, dazai x fem!reader (separate), not proofread (I'm writing this while watching a math tutorial hehe), kindaa ooc?, a bitt suggestive on dazai's part hihi, lmk if theres more!

a/n: HWUHWUEHWUIHYUSG SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I COULDN'T LOG IN , i love this request hehe :33 I looooooooveeeee bows and dainty things and baby pink and and and and EEEEKK !! >___< ANON I HAD SO MUCH FUN WITH THIS I LOVE YOU MWAAAAAAA

OSAMU DAZAI

yk that tiktok trend where you put pink bows on random objects, articles of clothing, OR on ur s/o's biceps?

would def let you do that on his bandages OR his hair <33

dazai walking around with frilly pink bows tied around his wrist and on his hair

the first time he entered your house, it was expected that you'd have alot of pink items but not THAT MUCH. . .

doesn't complain tho cuz he thinks its cute!

baby pink pillows, blankets, shirts, socks, curtains!

and bows everywhere

he thinks your room is an actual fever dream because HOW DOES A PERSON HAVE THAT MUCH PINK LIKE??

115% convinced you have pink in your veins

loves seeing you wear pretty pink dresses with the fluffy skirts and the lace

in instances where he finds cute dainty jewelry or clothes, he'll buy it! he's got enough money saved up from the mafia so why not spend it on you<33

"ahh! I love it, I love it so much!" you squealed, spinning around watching the fluffy skirt of your new dress spin around with you.

dazai had bought you a new dress, it was a beautiful baby pink dress with a bows all over it. the soft fabric of the skirt made it look and move along with your small movements like a cloud.

you took a look at the mirror one last time before hopping onto dazai's lap as you placed delicate kisses all over his face, "I love it just as you do, doll" he whispers softly as he held you close, playing with the hem of your skirt, "thank you~ ! aah! it's so pretty" you say excitedly before kissing him again

"you're beautiful, y/n" he whispers again as he tucked stray locks of your hair in your ear, "but I think you'd look even more pretty with that dress on the floor, no?"

CHUYA NAKAHARA

THIS MANNN AEDHWUIHIAJ

makes sure to buy you different jewelry, shoes, dresses for your dates so he can show everyone how pretty your style is

but mostly because he wants you to get dolled up and dressed all fancy because he loves how excited you get seeing yourself in dainty pink outfits<33

also, if ur hair is long enough, he'd tie your hair in that half up half down style with a pink bow<33

got pretty good at tying bows because he loves assisting you when you want to put them in the most mundane places !

wanna put a ribbon on instead of a belt? he'll tie it for you. wanna use a ribbon instead of your regular shoelaces? sure! he's putting ribbons on all your shoes!

every gift he sends is either wrapped in pink paper adorned with a bow, or the gift itself IS pink and has a bow (I WANTTT)

just like with dazai, he buys you tons of dainty jewelry and other things ♡

but he likes buying you hats the most so you guys could both wear hats together!

his favorite one though, a pink beret with a long dainty bow on top

he thinks it's adorable on you! like SURE the bow gets caught in a few things sometimes when the two of you are out, but it looks so pretty :((

also buys you a crap ton of shoes just because he's scared you'd find a good pair of shoes but it doesn't come in pink and you'd probably paint it pink

okay wait what if you DO paint a pair of shoes pink LOL

"baby, why would you ruin a pair of perfectly good shoes? we'll just get it in pink!" chuya groans as he tries to take away the can of pink spray paint from your hand (that's also probably adorned with pink accessories and/or nail polish HEHE)

"it doesn't come in pink! it only comes in black, white and blue!" you whine, trying to get the can back, "but I couldn't help it~ ! it's so cute! look at the bow and the straps and the heel!"

chuya sighs and gives you the can back, letting you do whatever needed to be done to satisfy your insatiable need for pink as he excused himself, saying he has something to do.

"fine...I'll be right back, okay? just...do whatever you need to."

the next day, you wake up to find a box instead of your boyfriend beside you on the bed. it had a (pink) sticky note attached to it;

To my darling,

Enjoy your new pink shoes and throw away the ones you spray painted.

Love, Chuya

you opened the box and immediately fell inlove with the pair of shoes inside. pink, with a bow, and a pretty strap. just like you wanted.

© — hopleii

#works—💌 #chuya nakahara #bsd chuuya #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #nakahara chūya #osamu dazai #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd x female reader #bsd x y/n #pink bows #ribbons and bows #baby pink #pink aesthetic #soft pink #fluff #bsd fluff

[chamberedbeauty]

@lamentingwclf continued from x

That stupid yellow piece of paper plagued her thoughts from the moment James pulled it out of his pocket. It plagued everyone they knew. His sisters were terrified, but tried their best to keep a brave face for their brother and mother- who was sick with fear and grief already was distraught and filled with tears only a mother could weep. Steve- well she wasn't quite sure how Steve was feeling other than a failure- that he should be with him.... which Gwen could nearly deck him for, but it was his feelings, nonetheless.

And as for her...all she could do now was pray for this war to end- and think of escape routes for the new soldier.

The week flew by and before everyone knew it, James would be sent off for basic training in the morning. 7am sharp. His sisters wanted to make this night special and begged him to go dancing- which of course he agreed to, even if it wasn't what he wanted.

Even more than that he'd been hesitant around her, and not just after the card came. No, this had been going on for a few months now. Nothing rude or blatant to the naked eye, but she knew him, she knew their relationship, and something was just off. He'd been avoiding her presence solely the whole night. Any time his sisters would be off dancing and Steve finding some quiet in the back, Bucky would suddenly need a drink and excuse himself. Finally, she stood, her hand outstretched to him, asking him to accompany her to the dance floor- a large grin coming to her red painted lips as he guides her out.

As the band slows their song, Gwen can't help but feel her chest tighten with disappointment, figuring he'd dismiss the dance, but instead, he pulls her to him. Not close like Harry would, or like he had before, but enough, and once more it causes her to smile. Her hand holds onto his as they begin to sway, her other softly resting on the back of his neck and she's about to speak before he asks his question- one that surprisingly brings the smallest bit of discouragement.

"Try my mother," Gwen replies with a small laugh. "Daddy's excited, but my mother, she's been dreaming of this moment ever since I was a little girl. But despite her pleading, I haven't even tried on any dresses yet. We have a few things planned out. What we'd like as the venue, the church, who will stand with us- just little things like that but um...it is a little difficult planning the wedding through letters."

Brown eyes look up to find his, resisting the urge to squeeze his hand. "I'm happy Steve came with us. I know he wasn't feeling well earlier this week, but I am glad he is trying." She laughs, a true and genuine laugh. "I will have to give him some lessons however. He stepped on my toes a few times and I'm pretty sure even though he only weighs ninety some pounds, June's toes will be black and blue in the morning."

This time she gives in and gives his hand a light squeeze. ".... Bucky, are you doing alright?" She feels the worry creeping onto her features, and she doesn't want that. He has enough to worry about without feeling the need to take care of her. So, she lightens it- as quickly as she can. "Because even though I'm a girl, I can still do some damage. We could break your ankle- oh! or your knee. You'd get out of service, and you'd get to walk like a pirate. Or maybe we should try for a rib. If we do any damage to your legs, it could affect your dancing abilities, and the women of New York City would weep. So, what shall it be?"

#lamentingwclf

[pioneergirlsie]

The Little Things

John “Soap” MacTavish x Reader

Summary: While Johnny is home on leave, you share a quiet moment together.

A/N: I am such a Soap girl. This is based on a post that I cannot find back about coloring Ghost’s tattoo sleeve. It’s lived rent-free in my head ever since I read it, and this was born. I will link the post if I ever find it back!

Modern Warfare Masterlist

“Hold out your arm,” you commanded.

Soap gave you a suspicious look. You’d been quietly working on a coloring book on the couch beside him for a while now, the scratch of the marker on paper the only sound besides an occasional chuckle before Soap showed you a meme.

“What are ya doin’, lass?” he asked with an amused grin.

“Just let me see your arm,” you said, giving him a pleading look.

He tried to give you a stern look and refuse. He really tried, but he could never say no to you. No, after the horrors of battle, you were what he came home to, his comfort and his safe place to land. You were his everything, and he’d never deny you anything, not if he could help it.

You’d been dating for two years, but the time you’d actually physically spent together had been drastically shortened by his deployments. You both treasured the time you could spend in each other’s presence.

“Johnny,” you teased, drawing out his name. You wanted his arm.

He rolled his eyes and held out his right arm, the one with the tattoo. Your face erupted into a bright smile as you got comfortable on the couch, moving his forearm to your lap.

You uncapped a blue marker and steadied your canvas with the other hand.

Soap raised an eyebrow.

“It’s too plain,” you said, gesturing to his tattoo. “Needs some color.”

You waited until he gave you the slightest hint of a nod before you touched the tip of the marker to his skin, delicately brushing it over his arm.

He laid his phone aside, intent on watching you work. Soap was enjoying the attention you were focusing on him, and the brush of the markers was intensely relaxing.

As you carefully worked and chose different colors to best suit different areas of the tattoo, Soap couldn’t help admiring you. Beautiful, kind, innocent. You were as untouched by war as someone dating a special forces soldier could be. You cared about him in a way few others did. Even on his worst days, you *wanted* to be there for him.

Too soon, you capped your last marker.

“What do you think?” you asked, a twinkle in your eyes.

At some point, he’d stopped watching you color and focused on your face instead, watching you bite your lip in concentration as you worked. Now he looked over your handiwork.

“Excellent work,” he said with a grin.

“Should get it tattooed like that,” you commented, trying to tease.

He didn’t say what he was thinking: if he got it tattooed like that, you wouldn’t be able to color it again when the ink washed off.

“My turn,” Soap said, holding out a hand for your arm.

You looked at him, puzzled. He knew you didn’t have any tattoos.

Soap grabbed the black marker and motioned for your arm.

“I’ll sketch you something.”

You gave him your arm quite happily, and he held your wrist lightly to keep his canvas still. You couldn’t stop a shiver at the touch of the cold marker on your skin.

He started working immediately, painting his vision onto your arm. The attention he focused on you and the feeling of the marker was relaxing. He could draw on every square inch of you if he wanted to and you wouldn’t mind.

You found your eyes wandering to his face. The way he held his jaw told you he was concentrating hard. His blue eyes never wavered from his work.

You loved him. He was your protector, your confidant, your partner-in-crime. You hated that he had to be away so much in such a dangerous line of work, but you were also immensely proud of his service. You wanted to support him through everything.

Your eyes flickered back down to what he was drawing. It was a wild violet.

One of the first times you’d spoken, you’d been crouched near the edge of the sidewalk. Soap had assumed you needed help. Why else would you be in such a position?

When he asked if you were okay, you looked up and smiled, assuring him you were fine. You’d blushed at his attention, having hoped to go unnoticed in the few moments your task would take.

“I just thought these violets were pretty, growing out of the sidewalk cracks like that,” you’d said. “They’re my favorite.”

You were taking pictures of a beauty that few others would ever notice, and that was one of the things he loved about you. You found good everywhere.

Soap finished coloring in the petals.

“What do you think?”

“It’s perfect,” you whispered, in awe that he’d drawn something that lovely in mere minutes.

Soap smiled at you as you admired his masterpiece. You were radiant. You were everything good and wonderful and beautiful. He loved you.

“Will you marry me?”

It slipped out before he could stop it.

He wasn’t prepared for a proposal. He would have planned a fancy dinner and taken you somewhere romantic. Instead, his proposal was accidental and spontaneous, born in a moment of pure love.

You froze and looked up at him, shocked. Had he really just proposed?

As you looked at him, his heart stopped. He couldn’t breathe. *What if you said no?* Why had he let that slip?

“Johnny,” you breathed, and he prepared himself for your gentle rejection.

“Yes.”

It was his turn to be stunned. “Yes?”

“Yes,” you confirmed, tears in your eyes. “A thousand times, yes.”

He cupped your face and kissed you sweetly. Your hot tears slid over his thumb, but he didn’t mind.

As you broke the kiss, you both started laughing in disbelief.

“Are we getting married?” Soap asked, gazing deep into your eyes.

“Yes,” you said and smiled, running a hand through his mohawk. “Yes, we are.”

He looked a little embarrassed then.

“What?”

“I dinnae have a ring for my fiancée.”

You were about to assure him that you didn’t mind. You could go ring shopping at any time. Still, you knew he just wanted this proposal to be perfect for you.

In a moment of inspiration, you grabbed a thin-tipped Sharpie and held it out to him, along with your left hand.

He quickly caught on.

“May I?”

You nodded. He took your hand and the marker and began his work. While he drew, he told you how much he loved you. Every reason that he adored you, he let himself say.

You wiped tears with your other hand, trying to keep steady for your fiancé.

Once he had designed a ring as special as you, he capped the marker. While he was still holding your hand, he brought it to his lips and kissed it.

“I love it, Johnny.”

It was truly a work of art, an elegant design with a Celtic twist. You didn’t say it then, but you wondered if you could get a jewelry-maker to craft you a ring following his design. The ring was perfect, and it was created out of the love you had for each other.

You kissed him.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You were going to be his, his, his.

You were his.

#elsie writes #call of duty #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #modern warfare 2

[gtgbabie0]

hey can I request something with Sirius and the reader's birthday? Contrary to popular belief, I think Sirius would be into spending quality time together instead of throwing parties. So, maybe they're a new couple and he shows up at her place and they have a great day?

-Sirius Black x reader

This is too cute!! Hope you enjoy my lovelies 💕

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Sirius doesn’t know how exactly he’s managed it but somehow he’s wrapped your present in the most chaotic way he’s ever seen, and that’s saying something because he’s witnessed the travesty that is Marlene’s wrapping. He’s half inclined to rig up James, who miraculously has the gift of wrapping like it’s his job, but he wants it to mean something to you.

Perhaps that’s why he feels as if his heart might jump out of his chest when he shows up to your house, a sudden tremor that takes over his hands as he goes to knock on your door and he feels as if he’s forgotten how to breathe.

Sirius smiles, ear to ear, when he hears you shout a soft “one minute!” Your voice is as sweet as ever and the sudden panic seems to dissipate for a moment. You rush to the front door opening with a smile just as big as his and he immediately opens his arms out to you enveloping them around your shoulders as you mirror his actions, he presses a kiss to the top of your head before closing the door behind himself.

“Happy birthday sweet girl,” he says, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles as you let out an almost giddy laugh, completely breathless. He’s always made you feel like that even before you two got together, the butterflies were always so persistent.

You watch as he rummages through his bag, pulling out a very tragically wrapped gift, and you try your hardest to bite back the giggle that bubbles up in the back of your throat.

He looks over at you with a knowing look, “Don’t start, I tried really hard” he says, with a grin as he hands you your present, his nerves creep their way back into his heart.

Sirius doesn’t take his eyes off of you, waiting in anticipation as you tear the wrapping paper from the small box. His leg bounces and his heart skips a beat or two when he catches the gleam in your eyes and he swears he’s falling in love with you all over again.

It’s a delicate bracelet, the charm that connects the chain is a small red heart-shaped crystal. You take it out carefully looking over at Sirius, who’s quick to help you put it on, his warm fingertips brushing against your wrist as he clasps the bracelet together.

It’s gorgeous with the way it shines against your skin, under the afternoon sun that slips through your blinds, painting the room and the bracelet in a lovely light.

“It’s beautiful Sirius, thank you so much” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck as you bring him into a hug, “I love it,” you tell him as he pulls away, gently taking your wrist into his hands as he observes the piece of jewellery.

“I’m glad, I was losing my mind trying to figure out what to get you” he chuckles, and he only realises just how shaky his hands still are when you take them in your own.

“Well you did amazing, It really is beautiful,” you tell him with great sincerity in your tone, it makes his chest bloom with warmth.

“You’re beautiful” he winks, smirking at you when you shake your head with a breathy chuckle. He nudges your shoulder with his own as he leans into you, and there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be than here with you.

Sirius stays over the night, he pays for whatever dinner you want insisting that “it’s your birthday and you deserve everything” and you quickly learn just how stubborn he can be, giving up on fighting him on the matter, you can’t help be feel like the luckiest girl on the planet.

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#sirius x reader #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x reader #sirius black fic #sirius black imagine #sirius black one shot #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black fluff #sirius black blurb #sirius black drabble #sirius fanfiction #sirius fluff #sirius fic #sirius x you #sirius black #sirius x y/n #sirius oneshot #the marauders #the marauders era #the marauders imagine #the marauders fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #marauders fic #the marauders x reader #marauders #marauders oneshot #marauders drabble #marauders blurb

[argumentl]

Osaka Noutei Tora no ana: fan report, Sep 23/24 2023 - Kaoru's talk event!

First I just need to say, I consider myself very lucky to have been able to attend and take part in this event!

I arrived at the venue at about 11:30pm, there were already a lot of fans hanging outside, and almost immediately a staff member of one restaurant opposite the venue building approached me and asked me in a shocked tone what on earth was going on with all these people here!😂 I told him it was an event by Kaoru from Dir en grey, and he just had no idea at all, asking, 'Is he Japanese??' 😆

Some fans were saying then that they saw Kaoru pulling up in a taxi and waving as he walked past them to go inside earlier...damn, I was too late!

After entering the building and lining up, I was eventually THIRD LAST into the venue! My ticket number was twice as high as last time..agh! It made me realise how close I was to not getting a ticket at all 😱 so I was grateful, but I was also stressing, because as my ticket number was so high, I was worried I wouldn't be able to see or hear anything from right at the back. In fact, I WAS right at the very back, there were no tables left and only one lonely chair left, but thank the gods, from that chair I had a clear view of Kaoru the whole time!!

Having said this, I did end up with a bit of trouble...in being handed a bunch of stuff as I entered (q&a paper, coaster, drink order token) and having nowhere to put anything, losing stuff, panicking, and then after that having to balance my drinks/food on my lap all night, but HEY, I could see and hear fine, so its all good!

Again, as far as I could tell, I seemed to be the only person there who was not Japanese. If any other foreign fans were there, let me know!!

The talk started with Fujieda and Takabayashi coming out for a quick greeting before calling Kaoru to join them. For some reason, Kaoru didn't immediately come out when he was called, and the audience ended up having to do encore style clapping before he actually came out 😆

He was wearing a black shirt, khaki shorts, a beanie, and glasses.

Kaoru and the managers got their drinks pretty quickly and Kaoru tried to raise a toast, but as us poor folk at the back still had no drinks, Kaoru decided to delay making a toast until we all had drinks (which, I must say, probably took another 30 mins or so). I'm so grateful he waited for us! 😭😭😭

To start, Kaoru talked a bit about how things had been for the Tokyo exhibition. That big collage board was also propped up on the stage next to them, and he explained a bit about it.

He also talked about his drawing of the Genesa which was on display in Tokyo. It was his original idea for how he wanted the guitar to look.

They then talked about how they came down to Osaka and brought all the art by car the previous day(Friday). When they got to the venue, the people who they had hired to help them set up everything didn't come, so they called the company and it turned out the company had mistaken the date, and thought they were due to set it up on Saturday instead! Thankfully, it was still all ready by the end of Friday, just a few hours later than expected. Kaoru said that while Takabayashi was on the phone seriously trying to sort out the problem, he himself went to the nearby convenience store, Mini-Stop, and bought ice cream. He really likes the ice cream at Mini-Stop 😆 This reminded them of how they occasionally had to go out to DIY stores for extra supplies during the Tokyo exhibition, and Takabayashi bought taiyaki while he was at one of the bigger stores. This made Fujieda jealous, as he loves taiyaki. Fujieda then told everyone that once during Tokyo run, Kaoru bought all the staff donuts from the store JACK IN THE DONUTS.

Kaoru said that he needed extra space to paint while he was creating all the art pieces so he rented a seperate apartment for the short term, just to paint in...but he heard a lot of noise there from people shouting in foreign languages next door (.....or something like that).

They talked a lot about the mangas they all like, as Kaoru had had some of his fave mangas with him on his desk at the exhibition. Fujieda said that as well as being a huge fan of Dragonball and Slamdunk, he is also a huge fan of Death Note. Kaoru found this kinda funny, and asked him if he'd seen the live action remake of Death Note, which Fujieda said he hadn't. This also reminded them of the recent One Piece remake, and then Kaoru remembered the Dragonball Z live action remake, saying it was astonishing...in a BAD way 😂 He even mentioned how Akira Toriyama had refused any association with it.

Speaking of watching things, Fujieda and a lot of the audience have been watching the new VIVANT TV drama recently, and they couldn't believe that Kaoru hasn't been watching it. (I haven't been watching it either, so this went over my head a bit!!😆)

Kaoru said if he could take any manga to a desert island, he would take Kochi Kame: Tokyo Beat Cops, as stuff like Dragonball etc is already all in his head.

During the first half of the event, a screen was lowered behind Kaoru and the managers, and they used it with a kind of overhead projector to showcase some of the new art. Kaoru used the exhibition pamphlet to project images of the art onto the screen behind, which meant we also got a lot of closeups of his hands and arms ☺️ There were also plenty of spoilers for me, since my ticket for the exhibition is for after Tora no ana 😆 (Again, I still feel lucky there, because I heard some women near me talking in the line that none of them had been able to secure tickets to the exhibition at all.)

Just like when writing music, Kaoru said he also ends up with a lot of duds/write offs when he is painting too.

He started having ideas about putting on an exhibition after the completion of Phalaris, but started the actual painting in January this year.

Fujieda and Takabayashi both revealed their fave pieces from the exhibition, and those works were then discussed in more depth.

It was around this time that a woman in my row at the back started bravely calling out comments and questions to Kaoru, which he was replying to! Im fairly sure I recognized her as one of Kaoru's more visible online fans. Oh, to have her courage!!

Ive totally forgotten how they got onto this topic, but at one poInt Fujieda started talking about how he used to regularly get brazillian waxes when he used to be a bandman. And these days he also waxes his nose hairs...you're welcome for the mental image!😂

It was well past 2am by the time the break was announced. Kaoru dissapeared back stage for around 15mins, and by this time I was also kinda drunk.

After getting restarted, there was a bit of casual talk for a while iirc, and then the Q&A section began.

Once again Im going to start this part of the report by saying my question and name were read out!! BUT with hilarious/tragic results!😂 My question was concerning Kaoru's old band Charm, since he had displayed the flyer in Tokyo, and I also asked if he could expand on his pre-Dir band history in general.

Fujieda was like, "Ok, this question is asking about Charm, what kind of band was it, and stuff? I can't even understand the rest of the question..", and then he promptly announced my name to Kaoru too! I'd be lying if said I didn't feel slightly dead from embarrassment at his last remark! 😂 But let me clear things up here! Remember I said earlier that I was practically last to get inside with no table? Well, I knew I had barely any time left to scribble down a question when I got in. I had mentally prepared the question in my head in advance, so I had to write it as fast as I could with one of those flimsy plastic clip/pencil things, resting on my knees, in a totally frantic state, and in VERY poor light...in my second language! 😂 My handwriting was certainly rushed and untidy, and knowing me, I probably made errors and missed out words etc in my haste. I was actually shocked that it was picked up at all, considering its lack of readability, and the fact that so so many of the other question sheets just got passed straight over. So after some consideration, Im taking this as win! 😂

As for Kaoru's answer, he basically said he has nothing to say about Charm, as if HE was embarrassed to talk about this topic! So yehy, I managed to embarrass us both!! 😆😆 Again, Im taking this postively, you only live once, and I will never forget this! 😂

As for the other questions, he was asked various things, includIng firstly which of the other members is most into exercise? To this he said probably none of them, since none of them are actually inherently sporty.

One question congratulated Kaoru on Hanshin winning the series (the whole audience applauded this), and asked for his alternative suggestion to diving off the Ebisu bridge in Dotonbori. (This practice has been banned due to people getting hurt/killed while jumping off the brige in celebration) Kaoru sarcasticly suggested diving off Tsutenkaku tower instead...the audience was audibly shocked 😂

Another fan asked about how the other Dir members refer to Takabayashi, since Kaoru always calls him Tōru. Apparently the other members call him Tōru too, except Shinya who refers to him as 'kimi'(you). But then again, Shinya refers to Fujieda as 'kimi' as well.

About half way through the Q&A Kaoru introduced some of the merch available at the exhibition, using the overhead projector to showcase it.

Another question asked the dates for the fan trip next year, and Kaoru confirmed it will be on the 16th and 17th of Feb. He already has the location decided and the venue booked, but he couldn't say any more for now. The only hint was that is was nothing like all the suggestions considered back in March. The official announcement will be made next month.

Someone also wrote something suggesting that Kyo and Kaoru do should a shared birthday event, because they didn't like having to choose bewteen Kyo and Kaoru's seperate events. Kaoru was reluctant to do this, because 'its him, right?' (i.e We all know what Kyo can be like when he feels like it...or not!) 😅

There were a few other questions about the usual things, food, baseball etc, and after the Q&A was finished, Kaoru declared he was gonna give away a signed nouteikarano2 poster to one audience member. He asked everyone who wanted to win it to stand up, and then started a game of rock paper scissors, with him against the audience. In the end one fan was remaining and she was called to the front where Kaoru handed her the poster! Obviously I lost against him, but I'm just happy to have played!!😄

As the event was coming to an end an audience member quietly ordered two rounds of tequila shots for Kaoru, and the managers! The were kinda surprised, but still drank them! (Tonnes of food and drink which the audience had been ordering for them was still left over though!)

To end Kaoru stated that the streets were still full of weirdos at this time in the morning (4:30am)..so to be careful (Like, its dangerous, but off you go anyway! 😂). Takabayashi confirmed that, yes, the clubs are still very much in operation at this time. So I avoided the backstreets on my walk back alone! Haha.

Much more was talked about in addition to the above of course, he talked the night away! Despite my blunders, I do feel very lucky to have been here, and it was joy to be drinking till morning with him! Next...the actual exhibition!😅

#dir en grey #薫 #report #tora no ana #nouteikarano2

[heartfullofleeches]

Ok but what if the reader instead of being a security guard for the museum they were actually its new owner? The haunted pieces already knew about you, your grandfather bringing you there to show you how to take care of the museum once they were gone, and all of this while you were just a young adult! Now you are...older, and that makes them worry. The white strands on your hair become more noticeable, the way your eyes sink into your skull sends them into a panic and so much more. (1/2)

Just give up on your mortal life and live with them forever in your new body, you can even choose which one you want!! Do you prefer marble? Or maybe even roses!? Or even paint!!!! Just PLEASE, PLEASE don't die on them. They already wanted to hold you close before, but now?? They don't want to. They NEED to.(2/2)

(A.N - Tw: light gore, injury)

-

The gallery was a place of wonder when you were young.

Even before you knew the truth, every piece breathed with life; the history behind each one like stories ripped from a fairytale. It wasn’t long before you were whisked you way to the Night Gallery. Where those figures would step from their pages, and walk about in the realm of your reality. From your first visit, your grandfather made it known what your future duties would be, but you wouldn't realize the weight of their burden until many years later.

It was towards the later stage of your adolescents. By now you knew the first floor residents as well as the friends you had back home. They welcomed you with as much curiosity as you did them; happy to have a new human to make themselves acquainted with, and one with so much energy unlike most. You weren't allowed on the upper floors unless it was daytime, but you imagined them to be as friendly as those below.

You had taken up a summer job at the gallery, and would go about your days in peace. There was the occasional rude visitor or someone who tried to sneak a picture in no photography zones, but it was decent pay and gave you time to spend at your home away from home.

Sweeping up on the third floor, you heard snickering from around the corner. There was an end of the year field trip happening that day, but you had already seen all the classes moving on to the next floor. Taking a peek, you spot two teenagers close to your age; spray painting the face of one of the statues by the bathrooms.

"Hey! What are you doing?!'

They bolt as soon as they hear your voice. Probably not the best choice of action, but the most logical that came to mind. You contact security as you walk over to the statue. The figure depicted a person in robes; their face now obscured by a heavy layer of black paint. You could vaguely make out the outline of their closed eyes and tight lips, but aside from that their face looked like a small void. Completely hollow.

"I'm so sorry this happened.. Don't worry, we'll get you cleaned up in no time.

You grab a rag and gently attempt to scrub some of it off. It only succeeded in smugging the paint more; coating the complete length of their exposed face in dark paint.

You chuckle nervously. "That... probably wasn't the best thing to do.. I think I made it worse. Let's wait till someone who's right for the job comes, so you can look as good as new."

You flash the statue a reassuring smile. You weren't sure if could see you with its eyes closed; or if it could even hear you, but you felt it was the right thing to do. You stay with it until security came a few minutes later; chatting away like it was the most lively of company. From what you heard, they hadn't found the culprits of the defacing. They never would.

And you never saw that statue again.

-

Closing up the following fortnight, you wheel the supply cart down the empty halls; heading for the janitorial closet on the first floor. Your shift had ended on the third floor, and a little later than usual due to a prankster shoving paper towels up the air dryers. If you hurried, you had enough time to get out of the gallery before midnight.

Climbing in the elevator, you press the button for the first floor. You scroll through your phone as it takes you down. As you swipe your finger over the screen, a blotch of paint smudges the glass. Where did that come from? You don't remember cleaning up any paints that afternoon.

The elevator's doors open; a chill bellowing through its gates. You push the cart out of the entrance; doors slamming together behind you. The corridors to the elevators were pretty much the same on each floor. A long hallway with a few doors on the sides; hidden by paintings or simply locked off as they were for use of the employees. You roll the cart down to the janitor's closet; pulling your keys from your pocket. The key was to small to fit in the lock- but the door was already unlocked.

You step inside; alarm bells going off like a fourth of July gone wrong. For one, the room was quite larger than what you remembered, and secondly- you weren't alone. Various pieces of art were placed around the room; all in different forms of disarray. A painting with a tear through its center, a shattered vase - the statue.

"Gah!"

You hadn't even realized it was right in front of you til your eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room. The hulking mass of stone stands a few feet ahead; face still masked in shadows. Its head was tilted higher than you remembered; angled directly in your direction. Its hood appeared to be chipped.

You breath a sigh of relief. "Oh... it's just you. You startled me."

The statue's hand was raised in an extended motion rather that at its side when you first saw it; almost- inviting in the way. You take a step closer; splatters running up the sleeve of their arm. There's.. something nestles in its palm, surrounded in a pool of dark liquid. It's small; fitting perfectly in the crook of its hand. It looked flesh like, and shaped like the half of a heart; fitted with a small diamond hanging on its lobe. You recognized it the piece. An earring worn by one of the vandals from the previous weeks. Lost in concentration, you barely notice the statue's chest rising and falling with each ragged breath it takes.

"Ta...tak.."

A wet gurgle comes from the statue's face cavity. The black paint drips down its neck; falling on the floor with a wet smack. You could make out the outlines of its exposed teeth as they gnash together.

"T..a..ke it.."

The statue extends its hand further out to you, the blood accumulated in its palm spilling over. It wheezes; placing one foot forward towards you. The stiffness of its robes crumbles as they wrap around its thin bone structure. From somewhere behind it, you heard a laugh.

"Oh, hoho. Is that our new owner coming to finally pay us a visit? What an honor~"

The other voice steps from the shadows, fluctuating with each syllable. Its eyes lock onto yours; one wide open, while the other rests half closed. The entity's body was doused in a spectrum of color; no one section the same as the other. Swirls, splotches, and other abstract patterns covered its frame. Not even its basic shape was symmetrical. One leg longer than the other, giving it an awkward stance. Bits of it technicolored flesh melting from its other parts. The only thing that was somewhat similar was its arms. They had been dyed with the ink of its body, but they were exactly alike, and appeared to house human skin. One of the nails was missing from its left hand.

"What a pretty thing you are! It seems time has been a kind friend to you, my dear."

You can't speak. What's going on? This isn't anything like what you've seen before. You don't understand what's going on.

"Speechless, are we? That's quite all right. We've been waiting for so long to meet you!"

We? The painting throws its arm to the sky in a welcoming gesture. As if awaiting the cue; damaged artworks from around the room come to life. A mannequin attempts to stand on its splintered legs; a cuckoo clock chimes with a note so off key it makes your skin crawl. There's blood on their frames... their hands. Chatter comes from every corner of the room; all excited to see the new face.

"You've grown so much! Do you remember me? I used to hang by the gift shop. You're so beautiful, you should have your own painting done. "

"We've heard a lot about you, but we'd love to hear so much more. It's all I can do without my eyes"

"Please don't leave"

Run. Your brain screams at you to run. These pieces weren't like any you'd met before. Were those one as good as they seemed? Your head was spinning. Your body startled to tremble. What do you do?

You know.. the older you grow the more that body of yours will break. We can give you a better one. If you stay here with us...

"Y/n!"

Yanked by your collar, you're dragged from the madness. Your grandfather slams the door shut, locking it as a long bang comes from the other side. Your eyes subconsciously shift over to the sign by the door. Paint drips off its lettering. Restoration.

"What on earth were you doing in there? Do you know what time it is?"

You utter your first words of the night. "Did... did someone really.. die?"

The old man's eyes soften. He lets out a deep sigh, turning his back to you.

"It will be your responsibility someday. You'll have to make sure that no one hurts them. And that they don't hurt anyone the same."

-

From that day forth, your love of the gallery lost its spark. You still cared for it and its residents, but it was hard to look at them knowing what they were truly capable of. The inhabitants of the first floor soon began to ask you to stay as well. Never a demand, but a pleaded offer. They'd seen the light draining from your eyes; the droop in your smile. It was the last thing they ever wanted to see on the face of the one they came to admire.

Eventually, the time came. Your grandfather passed, and you became the head of the gallery. It became your whole life. You couldn’t hire any guards for the risk of their safety, and if you ignored them in the vain hopes nobody would trespass the artworks would get violent with each other. You were exhausted in every way, shape, and form- and everyone knew it.

Sitting alone in your office, you watch the cameras you'd set up; sighing in annoyance as someone runs by on the second floor. People never learned. You get up from your seat, heading out to find them.

-

You find the trespasser on the stairwell between the second and third floor; using hidden passages and keeping your head low to avoid detection. You applaused them for getting this far without being spotted. They crotch by the stairs with their hands over their mouth as they steady their breath; gripping something tightly in hand.

"Hey....follow me"

The burglar turns to face you; fear burned into their widen eyes. They point their weapon at you; completely on edge.

"S-stay away."

"I'm not going to hurt you. Come with me."

"No! No... you're trying to trick me. You're one of them."

You hear shuffling from the floor below.

"Keep your voice down. They'll hear you."

"You aren't going to get me, you monster!"

"Calm down." You hold your hands in peace as you slowly edge closer; attempting to show you mean no harm. This only settles them off more, slicing the skin of your right arm.You hiss in pain; trying to keep your voice low so they don't hear- but it's too late.

DoN't ToUcH tHeM

You lock eyes with the intruder. "I'm so sorry."

Before they can reply, dozens of hands approach from the lower form; wrapping around their ankles and theur lower torso- crushing them in their grip. They plead; beg, but their cries turn to incoherent babbles and screeches as their fate is sealed. You don't see what happens, your eyes covered by a heavy hand. It coos in your ear, inserting a piece of jewelry into its lobe. Your arm stings, pleading profusely onto the fabric of your shirt. It runs its fingers over the flow.

"Look at you.... You're falling apart. The wounds you've come to bear can never be healed, and you'll only continue to break til there's nothing left. Join us... We can make your image last forever. We can give you all the love you could ever desire. Our masterpiece..."

Your lips remained sealed. You know that one day you'll belong to the gallery for good. Somewhere deep in your chest you knew that you already did.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere insert #yandere story #yandere drabble #yandere writing #yandere fic #tw yandere #yandere monster #Night Gallery tag

[lqbeo]

IN MY DREAMS ...

THIRTY TWO / The end

WARNINGS / angst WC / 1425

IN WHICH / You join the photography club to be with your crush, jeongin. But on the first day of the club you notice he wasn't there but instead his best friend, beomgyu, was.

Life was smooth sailing until it took an unexpected turn. Where did our daily exchanges of good morning and goodnight disappear to? Why did everything crumble away so suddenly? I honestly tried to move forward. But it's nearly impossible when every little thing triggers memories of him. From guitars to flannels to apples, I even gave up sipping smoothies and nibbling on straws simply because it reminded me of when he’d say, "Biting straws is not good for you." 

Flashback —

I sat waiting in a cosy restaurant for the blind date that Yunjin and Chaewon had orchestrated for me. While I waited, I could hear those two friends chiming in through the phone. "Take this one seriously!" Chaewon's voice came through with an emphatic tone. "Yeah, don’t turn him down if he wants to see you again," Yunjin added, but I couldn't help but chuckle. You see, they'd arranged blind dates for me in the past, but I had always found a reason to bail.

"I won't bail this time, I promise," I assured them. "If I do, I owe you all tickets to the new Marvel movie." Their excited, almost childlike screams of anticipation came through the phone. "I'll catch up with you later, I think he's here." I hastily ended the call as I spotted a tall, handsome man taking the seat in front of me.

“Hi, I’m sorry I’m a little late” He muttered and I shook my head.  “No, it’s totally fine” I reassured him, taking a sip of the coffee I'd ordered earlier. Awkward silence hung in the air, and I was starting to contemplate asking Jeongin to fake a phone call about a car accident. Thankfully, Beomgyu decided to break the silence.

“Oh uhm, I’m Beomgyu. Chae Beomgyu”

The smile on my face slowly dropped.  God, all the memories came flooding back in.  My first date with Jeongin when Beomgyu worked at that restaurant.  The time we took pictures together during the school’s air show. Our kiss in the storage room when we were in Seoul.  My eyes then swell up with tears.  “Uh, I don’t really know how these blind dates would work” He chuckles but all I could do was start to whimper.  I see the worried expression he displayed when I all of a sudden started crying.  “Yujin? Are you okay?” My loud cries I guess gave him an answer.

End of flashback —

Be proud that, after a few years, I stopped those intrusive thoughts that seemed to bring him to mind at the most unexpected moments. I could finally watch someone play the guitar without superimposing Beomgyu's image over them. I wore flannels without having to pretend they were his favourite black and white one. I even got back to enjoying smoothies without feeling like I was trying to hold onto a memory, and I didn't shy away from biting the straws. Companies started using paper straws, but I stuck with it.

It has been a decade since Beomgyu disappeared, I became an artist and my newest painting found its place in the city's most prestigious museum. As I crossed the threshold into the museum, eager to lay eyes on my painting for the very first time, the entire gallery captivated me.  Sculptures and paintings, each more remarkable than the last, beckoned me. Their artistry was a testament to human creativity and expression.

I got to the hallway that showcased my painting and it was the first thing you’d see.  A small smile grew on my face, I was proud of myself.  The painting was one of the pictures me and Beomgyu took during the airshow years ago.  Painting that piece was a key moment of the process of moving on.

Wandering down the hallway, I chanced upon an unassuming door. My curiosity got the better of me, so I surveyed my surroundings before cautiously pushing the door open. What lay inside was a room filled with screens and digital artwork. It wasn't crowded, but a few visitors were scattered about, engrossed in the videos and artwork on display.

Across from me, I noticed another door, marked with a stern "do not enter" sign. My mischievous spirit from high school stirred within me, and I couldn't resist the temptation. I opened the door silently and peered inside.

Inside, a small vintage TV sat, its screen entirely black at first. Then, it began to glitch, displaying blurred images of people intermittently. Suddenly, the screen glitched again, revealing an image identical to the one I had painted. It then went black once more.

The screen glitched once more, this time revealing a photo of the apple tree that Beomgyu once took me to. Another picture quickly followed, and to my astonishment, it was an image of me, hissing at the camera.

Flashback —

“You are good at one thing," He remarked, you turn to face Beomgyu. “You paint, right? I haven't seen any of your works, but I'm sure they're lovely." You tried to suppress the smile that threatened to spread across your face, but the blood rushing to your cheeks gave you away. “Really?" Beomgyu snapped a picture of the trees, capturing a moment of natural beauty. “Mhm, you should show me one of your paintings, especially the one of Jeongin—"

“Ya! Quit teasing!" you playfully exclaimed, playfully hitting his head this time. Laughter escaped his lips as he pointed the camera at you. You hissed at the camera, unaware that he had already taken another picture.

End of flashback —

I have moved on, ask my friends and they will say the same thing.  But moving on doesn’t mean forgetting every memory I had with him.  The next picture was the video of Beomgyu I took during the airshow.

Flashback —

You get off track, your hand absent-mindedly turn to camera towards Jeongin.  You admired him but you noticed Beomgyu swinging his arm around Jeongin’s shoulder.  Again, you absent-mindedly turn the camera towards Beomgyu’s face instead.  You stood still secretly watching how the frat boys interacted with one another.  Until Beomgyu’s eyes catch sight of the camera that was pointed at him, resulting in him tilting his head.

End of flashback —

The screen turned black once more before showing a video of Beomgyu beside a young boy.  “Look at the camera. '' He told the boy and my eyes started to water.  I missed his voice.  The little boy started speaking “Hi, Yn. Uhm..” I covered my face with my hands, trying to keep myself composed but obviously failing.  “Have a happy new year” I heard Beomgyu whisper in the boy's ear.

“Happy new year”

“Say it with more passion like this, Have a happy new year!”

“Have a happy new year!” The boy said with more enthusiasm, making me laugh.  I watched as Beomgyu gave the kid a high five.  “Yes! Amazing.” Beomgyu complimented.  

I began to recollect the memory of Beomgyu mentioning his younger brother. I suspected that the kid in the video was probably his brother. The joy they must have felt reuniting after many years was evident. His brother began speaking, "You know, the girl working with Beomgyu is really pretty—" Beomgyu swiftly silenced him by placing his hand over his mouth. His brother wriggled free from Beomgyu's grip and playfully proclaimed, "Mhm, it's true!" It brought a laugh from me.

Now, Beomgyu stood alone in the meadow under the night sky. The stars and the moon illuminated the scene. I observed as he took steps closer to the camera, bending down to fit the frame, ready to speak.

"I got out of bed just to show you this," he said, adjusting the camera to capture the moon and stars. Memories of our late-night drives and nights spent by the Han River, gazing at the sky, flooded my mind. Beomgyu continued, 

“Uh, it's two in the morning in Korea, so you’re probably asleep.  I know it’s about to be a year since we last saw each other but, hold one just a bit longer.  I’ll come see you soon, because I just know that it’s not gonna be an amazing year if I don’t spend it with you”

Those were his final words before the screen faded to black. I couldn't hold back my tears any longer. I was crying as intensely as I did on that blind date. I didn't care if someone found me; all I cared about was how Beomgyu could say those things but not come back. As I sobbed, I noticed the screen displaying:

In remembrance of Choi Beomgyu

(2001-2023)

MLIST / PREV

A/N: this is the end. Thank you so much for waiting. I apologise that it took too long. I started school again and everything just went chaotic. Anyways. Thank you so much for reading and I had a lot of fun creating this story. Thank you again for everything I love you guys saurrr much.

TAGLIST: @captivq @beomomb @flowerbe0m @rosenatorfirst @xtra-cheese @tya0 @catsyoon @woncheecks @ioszzn @kaeebtch @beoms-sugar @kaewonie @huening-ly @aernx @yumilovesloona @i2lain @myknifeyourlife @xrvrqs @sandhyaaa-aa @belovedxiao @beomsbeanie @yeonboy @beomies-world @tyigerz @ahnneyong @luvsoobs @eggeutarteuu @idgyuaf @ajakaashi @tae-ology @ikyuzies @marshmelle @wasteofoxygenn ( taglist is open )

2023 © lqbeo

#lqbeo #beomgyu smau #txt smau #kpop smau #social media au #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu fic #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu drabbles #beomgyu fluff #txt x reader #txt fic #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt drabbles #txt fluff #txt fanfic #txt series #choi beomgyu #beomgyu soft hours #beomgyu ff #txt #txt reactions #yeonjun #soobin #taehyun #huening kai #tomorrow x together

[coffee-breath1]

Medieval Au Executioner Konig x reader

Something that i’ve had in mind for a while but haven’t been bothered to write yet so here’s the bones of it

Warning - Major character death, Suicide

You and König meet as kids by a river one day, him scaring you and apologising before the two of you become friends.As you grow up, he becomes more distant from everyone but you. He isn’t allowed around you but leaves you little gifts sometimes and smiles at you when he sees you in town.He’s chosen to be the village’s executioner as a teenager and has no choice but to do the job that upsets him. Despite what most think he is very empathetic and kind so he tries his best to be respectful when killing people.

One day, the two of you managed to sneak off together and spend the whole day and night enjoying each other’s company and exploring each other in a way that you were never allowed, staying out until the sun painted the world gold once again. This same day, you were thrown in a cell, locked away on a false accusation of theft and sentenced for the chopping block.

As you walk out, you connect eyes with König and see the horror written over his face, yours calm having already accepted your fate. “There is no one else I would trust to end my life as I do you” you whisper to him as you kneel down in front of block, placing your head and breathing slowly. As you head the count down to your final moments, you prepare yourself for the end as much as one can and listen for the sound of the swing of metal- except it never comes. Not for you.

As you open your eyes, you see a sickly maroon colour spilling out on the ground besides your knees and jerk your head up, only to see your executioner, your König with his sword plunged into his heart, bleeding out for you. You cry, wail and beg but you know it’s of no use. He is gone, the thought of harming you too much of a sin in his eyes. A task so unacceptable and impossible to carry out, so instead, he will be the one to go.

That night as you lay in your cell, crying yourself numb, pen in hand you write.

“To my love, how cruel it was of you to leave me here without you, for you know how painful each moment alone is. I pray you wait for me in another life, one where you are not dealt such a harsh hand, one where the world is kind to you and we can be together. Wait for me, I ask of you, for it will not be long which we are apart.” you write on a single piece of paper, all that you could manage.

You tuck the note into your palm before spilling the same maroon liquid you had seen just earlier that day, this time your own. As the world fades to black and a fuzzy, comforting feeling encompasses your body, all you can think, all you can remember is your love and with that, your story ends.

And who knows, maybe somewhere out there, there will be a man with his love, sitting on the veranda of the house he built for them, watching them dance in the flowers, baby in arms, smiles stretching wide as the sun painted the world gold once more.

I came up with this idea whilst listening to No Surprises by Radiohead so feel free to listen to that whilst reading if you would like to get the full vibe. I was originally planning on fleshing this out into a multi chapter series but felt like i wouldn’t be able to do it the justice that it deserves but i didn’t want the idea to go to waste so i just decided to dump it out and see what happened :)

#cod #call of duty #cod x reader #major character death #angst #konig cod #konig x reader