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#wife shaped balloon

bootleg-nessie · 6 months

Text

Rating band names based on their accuracy:

(I keep updating this list so check back later)

The Beatles: 3/10. None of these people are beetles, they’re just a bunch of fruity guys from Liverpool with matching haircuts

(Edit: changed from 0/10 to 3/10 because John Lennon beat his wife)

Pink Floyd: 4/10. There is not a single person named Floyd in the band, but some of the members do arguably look kinda pink

Nirvana: 10/10. Getting high and listening to Nirvana is roughly what I imagine actual nirvana to be like

Foo Fighters: either 0/10 or 10/10. I have never seen foo in real life so either they’re pretending to fight a problem that doesn’t exist or they’re doing an absolutely fantastic job of fighting it

The Eagles: 0/10. Same as the Beatles, there is not a single eagle in this band. The name is misleading and we have all been lied to

Queen: 6/10. Partial points for Freddie Mercury

Led Zeppelin: 0/10. I don’t think any of these guys have ever even seen a zeppelin, let alone one made of lead. A lead balloon would crash faster than my hopes and dreams

The Rolling Stones: 3/10. There is not a single stone in this band. Some points added because I’m pretty sure they rolled quite a few

U2: 0/10. Despite what the name says, I am not a member of this band

Metallica: 9/10. Naming a metal band “Metallica” is like naming your dog “doggy”

Red Hot Chili Peppers: 2/10. These guys are not chili peppers. They’re not even that hot, let alone red hot

Guns N’ Roses: 0/10. How the fuck could a gun or a flower play music

Backstreet Boys: ?/10. Depends entirely on their current given location

Simon and Garfunkel: 10/10. No notes

The Doors: 1/10. Jim Morrison is kinda shaped like a door tho

Chicago: 4/10. The number of people in this band does not come even remotely close to the population of Chicago. Points added because it originated in Chicago

Earth, wind, and fire: 2/10. This is even more innacurate than Chicago. Points added because wind instruments were often used

Def Leppard: 3/10. There is not a single leopard in this band. Some of the members are probably kinda deaf by now tho

The Beach Boys: ?/10. Accuracy depends entirely on location

The Black Eyed Peas: 6/10. Not sure what the hell an ‘eyed pea’ is but the black part is pretty accurate

Imagine Dragons: ?/10. Depends entirely on whether or not they’re thinking about dragons.

Cage the Elephant: 1/10. Why would you do that. Let the elephant go

Green Day: 0/10. They’re not even green

The Police: 0/10. There is not a single cop in this band

KISS: 5/10. I’m sure they probably kissed sometimes

The Monkees: 0/10. Are you fucking kidding me

We Butter the Bread with Butter: 8/10. I can’t verify this but I have no reason to suspect that they’d lie. Butter seems like the most logical thing to butter bread with

King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard: 0/10. I got really excited about the concept of a lizard wizard only to be let down. My disappointment is immeasurable

They Might Be Giants: 5/10. I googled everyone in this band’s height, the tallest guy’s only 6’1 so I wouldn’t exactly consider him a giant. Then again, I can’t really argue because the claim was only that they MIGHT be giants

The Presidents of the United States of America: 2/10. None of these people are Joe Biden nor are any of them former presidents. This is incredibly misleading. I’m pretty sure “Lump” was written about my first girlfriend tho so I’ll give them a point or two

Gorillaz: 2/10 Not quite but we’re kinda close genetically so I’ll give them partial credit

The Killers: ?/10. I have no way of verifying if they’ve actually killed before but the fact that they’re not in prison tells me probably not

The Offspring: 10/10. These guys are definitely somebody’s offspring

Arctic Monkeys: 1/10. They are neither monkeys nor are they from the arctic

Thirty Seconds to Mars: 1/10. It takes WAY longer to get to mars than that

Beastie Boys: 8/10. They’re pretty beast on the guitar

Jimmy Eat World: 1/10. Slow the fuck down Jimmy, you’re biting off way more than you can chew

Hole: 9/10. One point deducted because I’m pretty sure they had more than one hole

Rage Against the Machine: 10/10. They did exactly that

Alice In Chains: 0/10. This is illegal. Let Alice go

The Band: 10/10. This could not possibly be more accurate

Nine Inch Nails: 1/10. I can’t find any good pictures of their feet but from what I can tell their fingernails definitely aren’t nine inches long

Bush: ?/10. Not quite sure about this one, felt uncomfortable asking

The Who: 2/10. I’m not dealing with this “Who’s On First” bullshit

Radiohead: 0/10. Not a single person in this band has a radio for a head

Queens of the Stone Age: 0/10. This band should be called “five random dudes from the modern era” but FRDFTMA is a bit of a mouthful

Soundgarden: 2/10. Sound does not grow in the garden

Sonic Youth: 5/10. They’re not exactly youth anymore but the sonic part checks out

Talking heads: 8/10. There’s more to the band than just a bunch of disembodied heads but the heads do tend to talk

The Cranberries: 0/10. Decent music but I only added them so that the Beatles and Freddie Mercury weren’t the only fruits on this list

The Wiggles: 8/10. They do tend to wiggle a lot

Blue Man Group: 10/10. Yep!

Weezer: 5/10. They all look like they definitely have asthma

Limp Bizkit: 3/10. While the visual image of baked goods playing the guitar is hilarious, Fred durst is not a biscuit. Points added because he probably has erectile dysfunction

Stone Temple Pilots: 0/10. None of these people are accredited as being licensed to pilot anything, much less an entire stone temple. Stone temples don’t need pilots anyways

Wasted Youth: 8/10. I guess it really kinda depends on how you frame it but yeah, they probably wasted a lot of it

Them Crooked Vultures: 3/10. These are people and not birds but Dave Grohl’s posture is kinda bad and John Paul Jones is so old that his neck kinda looks like a vulture’s so I added some points

Audioslave: 0/10. Slavery is illegal

Traveling Wilburys: 4/10. Sure, they traveled a lot but not a single one of those lying bastards was named Wilbury

D12: 6/12. There were only 6 people in this band

NWA: 10/10. I’m a little too white to safely comment on this one but I’d say they nailed it

Jet: 1/10. A real jet would be way too loud

Goldfinger: 0/10. Not a single person in this band has a finger made out of gold

No Doubt: ?/10. I can’t really be too sure how Gwen Stefani felt but I think it’s probably a safe assumption that she had some doubts

The White Stripes: 3/10. I bet if you stripped them down naked and made them stand shoulder to shoulder and squinted really hard they’d probably look more like white stripes

Screaming trees: 3/10. They scream occasionally

Garbage: 2/10. I think they’re being a little harsh on themselves, their music isn’t THAT bad

Butthole Surfers: 5/10. Not even gonna touch this one

Megadeth: 3/10. To be fair, some of the former members are dead but only a little amount of death, not mega death

Dead Kennedys: 2/10. Last I checked Kennedy was still dead but neither he nor his clones are members of this band

Cake: 0/10. The cake is a lie

Cracker: 8/10. Most of them are

Tool: 7/10. I don’t know much about their music but they sure look like tools

Counting Crows: ?/10. Is this what emo kids do instead of counting sheep? Accuracy depends on whatever bird they happen to be counting at the moment

Dave Matthews Band: 10/10. It certainly is

Oasis: 1/10. Their music is the opposite of an oasis

Blur: 2/10. They are not that fast

Barenaked Ladies: 0/10. If I wanted to be this disappointed I’d reestablish a connection with my biological father instead

Meat Puppets: 10/10. Technically, aren’t we all?

Live: 8/10. Apparently they still do live shows but I deducted some points because I’ve only ever heard their music on Spotify

ABBA: 9/10. I’m still not giving any points to Guns N’ Roses but that’s mostly out of spite

5 Finger Death Punch: 8/10 I guess it probably depends on how hard you hit them but this seems to be the usual amount of fingers to punch somebody with

All American Rejects: 9/10. They’re all rejects from America so I don’t really see any issue with this

T. Rex: 0/10. Even if any of these people WAS a T. Rex I don’t think their arms would be long enough to play their instruments

Free: 0/10. Unless you steal their music, in which case it becomes a 10/10

The Strokes: 3/10. To my knowledge, none of them have had a stroke but I still added a few points because the name was probably accurate for other reasons

The Smashing Pumpkins ?/10. Another thing I have no way of verifying but this seems like a waste of perfectly good pumpkins

Therapy?: ?/10. The hell are they asking me for? I don’t know their medical history

Twenty One Pilots. 0/10. There’s only two of them and neither is a licensed pilot

Finger Eleven: 0/10. Leave the poor Stranger Things girl out of this

Fall Out Boy: 9/10. I conferred with an expert on this one who confirmed that they are in fact boys who had a falling out

Cream: 8/10. Considering this was the OG supergroup I’m sure a lot of people did in fact cream when their music came out

Edit: humans aren’t fucking monkeys. Stop saying we are

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tarotwithavi · 9 months

Text

Random messages for you from your future lover/future spouse

18+ messages in some piles

How to choose a pile?

Take a deep breath and close your eyes. Kindly ask your spirit guides to show you the right pile for yourself and then open your eyes. Whichever pile catches your attention is the right pile for you.

These pictures belong to their rightful owners.

Masterlist

Paid services

Pile 1

"I want to bite your neck and leave my mark there"

"I love the way you walk"

"you look absolutely gorgeous from behind"

"God really took his sweet time creating the masterpiece in front of me"

"I want to worship every part of your body"

"all the lonely nights were worth waiting for you"

"In your arms, I have found my home."

"With you, love is not just a destination but a beautiful journey"

"I will buy you every book you like, but there's a price you must pay"

"In a world of billions, you're the only that makes time stand still"

"The darkness inside me is really to consume you, however I am scared of the consequences"

"If you had any idea about what I want to do to you, you wouldn't be standing here challenging me"

"I want to know everything about you, your likes, dislikes, what makes you happy, what makes you sad, every fucking thing"

"Your whispered desires set my soul on fire"

Pile 2

"You think you can run away from me love?"

"I crave you, I desire you, I want you. In. every. way."

"I love the way you look right now. You don't need to change anything"

"You're flawless. People who find flaws in you are blind"

"tie your hair up. Show me your neck"

"Your presence lights up my darkest night"

"You can literally sell me poison and I will buy that in gallons from you"

"Your acne scars correspond to the craters on the moon. They make you even more beautiful to me"

"You look so f-able in my hoodie"

"You can be my black cat and I can be your golden retriever"

"I will never force my beliefs on you"

"You look magical in that dress"

"I don't want other guys to be close to you, to touch you, I know it's selfish but it's something I can't help but feel. You make you go crazy over you"

"You're like a Siren, alluring me with your voice, enchanting me with your appearance and making me want to do things that are not so pure"

Pile 3

"You are so pure so innocent. I feel like I will taint you with my darkness"

"Some things are better as secrets"

"Do. Not. Provoke Me. You'll not be able to handle it"

"I am not that type of person who dreams of getting married on the first date. But something about makes me feel I should wife you up, like right now.

"I want to see a mini you or/and mini merunning around in our house"

"Do you mind if I ruin your lipstick right now?"

"can you see hearts floating around above my head? No? *Gets heart shaped balloons from God knows where, puts them above their head* Can you see them now?

"With you, even the simplest moments become cherished memories"

"I crave the taste of your lips and the touch of your skin, you are my sweetest addiction"

"With you, time flies by like a shooting star, leaving behind a trail of cherished memories"

"Don't leave me. I have loved you too much to be separated from you.

"You make flowers bloom in my heart just from the thought of you"

Pile 4

"I will work hard for you. I will work hard for us"

"To be honest I will let you step on me"

"Our future is so bright together mama"

"In your arms, time loses its meaning, and all that matters is our love."

"How long do you want me to wait for you? 1 month? 6 months? 1 year? 5 years? A decade? I will wait for you if it means that I can be with you even for a minute"

"I will never judge you for your past. We all make mistakes and it's fine. As long as you don't repeat the same mistake"

"You feel like chopping off your hair? Go ahead, do it. I bet on my left nut you will look good in every hairstyle"

"What makes you think that I wouldn't eat your snacks? Am I not human? Or Do I not have taste buds"

"In the heat of our passion, time fades away, leaving only the intoxicating blend of our souls"

"Your touch ignites a fire within me, and I crave the taste of your lips on mine"

"Baby I am preying on you tonight, hunt you down, eat you alive"

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m0nsterqzzz · 7 days

Text

(wife) Natasha Romanoff x reader

word count: 1.8 k

- Snow Day -

summary - snow days with your wife and kids

a/n - ahhhhhh i love snow and natasha.

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The moment Natasha jumps on top of you at 7am is the moment you decide to divorce her.

Not seriously, but you did threaten to as she shook your body and practically screamed, “It’s snowing detka!” You opened one eye and sure enough, there was ice frost covering the outside of your bedroom windows and you could see snow covering the trees.

“That’s nice honey. Now go back to bed.” She shakes her head, jumping off the bed and yelling as loud as she can- which is pretty fucking loud if you didn’t know-, “Kids! It’s snowing!”

Just like Natasha, your kids love the snow more than anything. Probably more than they love you. It's a few seconds before the cheering begins, and then your oldest sons come running into your room and jump onto the bed. “Wake up! Wake up!” Lev, the oldest, practically screams in your face, and then Andy- short for Anthony-, the middle child, lays his whole body weight on top of you. He’s fourteen years old, only two years younger than his older brother and eight years older than their little sister, but after years of working out with Natasha, he’s very strong and putting his whole body weight on top of you means basically cutting off your ability to breathe.

The sound of little footsteps entering the room makes you all stop, and Lena, your six year old daughter and youngest child, enters the room with her stuffed monkey in hand and crawls into the bed next to you. She loves the snow, but she also loves sleep just like you.

“Come here принцесса.” Lev mutters, grabbing his little sister from the bed and holding her in his arms. Her big brothers are her protectors, and if you and Natasha aren’t there to treat her like a princess, her brothers are.

“You wanna build a snowman little spider?” Andy asks, tickling her stomach as a method of waking her up. She giggles, a tired grin taking over her face as she looks out the window. “Snow day?” “Snow day Lena.” She nods, suddenly much more awake as she climbs out of his arms and back onto the bed. You think she's coming back to cuddle with you, but you should know by the devilish grin on her face- one very similar to your wifes- that is not true. She stands up on the bed, then lets her small body free fall onto yours. Was naming her after your sister in law (the one that totally did this shit to you a few months ago) a good idea? Probably not.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

And that's how you ended up gathering up all the scarfs in the house, which only turned out to be 4. Luckily, one of them was really long so you and Natasha can share it once you get outside. While the kids are in their rooms putting on thousands of layers, Natasha is in a tank top and leggings like she's about to go out on a run in the summertime. “Natalia. Where is your sweater? Sorry I meant, where are your sweaters? Plural because it’s fudging freezing outside.”

She shrugs, continuing to make six cups of hot chocolate despite it being 7 in the morning. You chuckle. “The kids only need one cup each Nat.” She nods, looking down at the cups with a nervous smile. “I know…..three of these are for me.”

You grab a few sweaters for her, forcing her to put them on and then standing in front of her holding in a laugh at the now balloon shaped form of your wife. “You look um….you look amazing honey.” She can't see you considering the beanie going down to her nose and scarf up to about the same place but she can hear you searching through your pockets for your phone. “I know what you’re doing! Do I look stupid to you detka?”

“Yes….and this is going on the Avengers Christmas card.” You snap the photo, running away from her when she begins waddling towards you.

You go stand out on the porch with her, waiting for your kids to come out and join you in the cold. Why they love the freezing temperatures will always be a mystery to you. When they come out, each kid is handed one cup of hot chocolate that they pull down their scarves to chug. They boy’s aren't too big as they’ve grown a lot over the years since you bought the pieces of fabric, but the new one you bought for Lena when winter season started is practically covering her whole head and Natasha has to pull it down in order to see the little girl's bright smile.

You take your seat at one of the rocking chairs you and your wife bought for your wrap around porch, piling several blankets over your lap and watching with a smile as the kids- that's including Natasha- run out into the chilly forest. When Lev was two years old and you had first adopted the few month old baby Andy, Natasha retired from her job as an Avenger and bought you and your kids a large piece of property and a big house. The land is filled with trees that kids spend evenings placing hide and seek in, and in the summer they go horseback riding with their mom. Natasha takes care of all the animals that live around the property and in the barn, and you spend days doing whatever you wish whether it's helping her or staying inside the house relaxing with the kids.

A snowball flies past your head, and you look up to glare at your wife. “Hey! Why are you looking at me? Look at them!” The redhead points to the kids, who stare at her bewilderment. “You know what? Fuck this.” You mutter, removing the blankets from your lap and running out into the snow. You form a snowball, hiding with your kids behind a stack of hay that Natasha left out the other day. Your wife was an Avenger, a spy, and a shield agent. That's all true. But you live with her. It’s not too hard to pick up on her habits.

You can hear her crunchy footprints coming up behind the hay, but the kids have already formed even more snowballs so you hold up three fingers, slowly putting each on down until you have zero left. They all jump up, practically yelling war cries as they hit their mother with snowball after snowball. You take this chance to run into the forest nearby, hiding behind a tree with several snowballs in hand.

Once they run out of snowballs and the laughter dies down a bit, you sneak out from behind the tree and begin throwing the snow at the back of your wife. The children laugh, but she turns to you with a devil-like grin and you instantly know you’re in deep shit. “Okay Nat….Nat….our kids are watching. They can't see me go like this.” You dramatically tell her, only bringing more giggles out of your kids.

“Get her mom!” Lev cheers, and your eyes widen as you look at him in mock offense.

“Whose side are you on kid?” You ask. He shrugs, holding up another snowball and throwing it at Natasha's head.

“Neither. Every man for themselves!” He sprints into the forest, Andy close behind him and Lena standing out in the open with no snowballs in hand.

Natasha grins at her, opening her arms for a hug. “Come here and give me a hug, little spider.” The six year old narrows her eyes at the Russian woman before sprinting after her brothers, but Natasha is already forming four snowballs when the little girl gets to the edge of the tree line.

You watch with a grimace as your wife throws each snowball at the back of the little girl, and the force of the snow makes Lena fall face first into a pile of coldness. You smack Natasha’s arm. “Natalia! She’s six years old!”

The redhead just laughs, turning her back to the forest as she grins at you. “She's my daughter. She can handle a couple snowballs to the face.” While she was defending letting her child get hypothermia, Lev and Andy were sneaking up behind her, each with a large pile of snow in their arms.

“Um….Nat-” You start with a giggle, but it's too late and the boys are lifting up the piles to drop them on top of her head. It breaks over her head, falling down in front and behind her like snow and leaving it all over her head and shoulders. “That was for Lena!” Andy yells and then they take back off to the forest, Natasha not far behind.

A few hours later, you watch as Natasha and the kids come back out of the forest, and then plop down in the snow with erratic breathing. You get up from your seat on the porch, walking onto the cold field and then laying down in it right next to your wife.

It's silent for a few minutes, but then the sound of shuffling begins. You look to your side to see Natasha moving her arms and legs, forming an angel looking shape in the snow. You all spread out a little before copying her movements. So that's what you guys do for like three minutes, before standing up and admiring your guy’s work. There are five different sized angels in the snow, the perfect replicas of you and your family.

“Mama. I’m cold.” With a small smile, Nat grabs her by her under arms and hoists her up on her shoulders.

“I think that calls for more hot cocoa.” “Tasha-” You go to tell her that they’ve already had too much sugar and that Lena is practically shaking due to a sugar high, but she’s making her way into the house with the boys trailing behind her before you can say anything. You chuckle to yourself, following after them.

She’s already grabbing the packets of cocoa powder once you get inside, and the boys settle themselves on the couch as you snatch them from her. She groans, sending you her best pout. You've been married to her for a very long time though and rarely fall for that anymore. “No. They can have something else.” The redhead widens her eyes, trying to put on a puppy dog's face that has you laughing harder than you ever had.

“Fine.” You’re not going to tell her that the only reason you said yes is because Lena was doing the face too. The little girls were much cuter. They cheer, beginning to heat up some milk to put in the hot drink as you go sit down on the couch with your boys.

Natasha and Lena join you guys, the older of the two sitting behind you on the couch so you can lay your back on her chest, and the boys let their little sister choose a movie which is why you end up watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas. Your wife isn’t focused on the movie though. She’s admiring you, how you chuckle at the funny parts as your eyes sparkle with joy.

Snow days are her favorite thing, but it’ll never compare to you.

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#natasha romanoff x you #marvel x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #the black widow #black widow x reader #snow day #marvel x you #marvel

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hemmingsleclerc · 2 months

Note

Plz more dad max

I am begging

Birthday Party ┃MV1

summary:Where max and his wife organize their little daughter's birthday party

It was a sunny morning and Max was a little stressed but totally excited because he was going to plan a birthday party for his adorable daughter, Olivia. As her fifth birthday approached, Max couldn't wait for it to be a day she would remember forever.

Max decided to turn his backyard into a movie theater for Liv and her friends. With the help of Y/N, his wife, they set out to organize the most unforgettable birthday celebration for their little girl.

The theme had been chosen between the two of them. Then, gathering cushions, blankets and stuffed animals, they began the decoration. While Max was hanging lights, Y/N was putting together what would be the screen. All this while her little daughter spent the morning with her grandmother Sophie.

Colorful balloons adorned every corner and a delicious aroma wafted through the air as Max prepared a delicious variety of popcorn, candy, and cupcakes.

Max enlisted the help of his wife,to create adorable movie ticket-shaped invitations, each personalized with the names of Olivia's little friends. They mailed them carefully, excited for the arrival of the little guests.

On the day of the party, the Verstappen house was bustling with laughter and excitement when Olivia's friends came running through the door, dressed like princesses.

The children's eyes sparkled with anticipation as they settled into their seats, munching on popcorn and giggling in anticipation.

Max, ever the gracious host, distributed special bags filled with treats and small toys during a brief intermission. The children couldn't contain their joy and Olivia smiled proudly as she shared her special day with her closest friends.

The afternoon at the movies flew by amidst laughter and joy. As the credits rolled, Max and Y/N gathered the kids for a group photo, capturing the magical memories they had made together. Each child left the Verstappen residence with a heart full of happiness and a bag of goodies, thanking the Verstappen family for the unforgettable birthday adventure.

maxverstappen1

Liked by yn.ln, landonorris, f1 and 1,242, 922 others

maxverstappen1 my little girl turned 5 today! Your giggles are music to my ears, and your hugs are the warmest embrace a dad could ever ask for. Here's to another year of making memories together, my little sunshine, love dad 🥲❤️

yn.ln My two favorite people on this planet 🥲💗💗💗

username IM GONNA CRY SHE'S SO BIG!!!

oscarpiastri Why wasn't I invited to the party?

yn.ln

Liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,483,482 others

yn.ln Happy 5th Birthday to my precious little princess! 🎂🌈 Time is flying, and my heart is bursting with love as I watch you grow into the amazing little person you are becoming. Here's to many more years of adventures, love, and discovering the magic that life has to offer. Love, mommy

maxverstappen1 my girls ❤️❤️

username adopt me pls

username HAPPY BDAY LIV!!

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maculategiraffe · 7 months

Text

so it is my understanding from books that it used to be that you went to the grocer(y store) and went up to the counter and told the grocer or the grocer's assistant your list, and the grocer was like "cool" and went and grabbed everything off the shelves and brought it to you while you waited at the counter. (either that or you could telephone the grocer with your list and send someone else to go pick it up for you. your husband or your daughter or your children's magical nanny as the case may be.) also the milkman came to your house and brought you milk and the butcher's assistant brought you meat on his little tricycle and the baker's assistant brought you bread. on like a subscription service

okay so I don't like the way we are doing things now. I don't like having to walk past miles and miles of scented candles and birthday cards and kitty litter and vaginal deodorants and mylar balloons and craft IPAs and erasers shaped like hamburgers just because I am out of eggs. and I don't want to pad out the amount of groceries I need to make the delivery trip worth the while of some anonymous underpaid overworked algorithm slave. I want to leave a note on the door asking the butter and egg man to bring an extra dozen eggs next time. and then I want the butter and egg man to go home and gossip to his wife about how I must be trying to learn fancy baking again because I have doubled my egg order and his wife will be like nice :) let's go out to dinner on friday and toast old miss giraffe's fifty-seventh attempt at learning to make her own macarons. who do I write to about this

#psir

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fanaticsnail · 3 months

Text

Sapsorrow - Chapter 5

Masterlist here, Series Masterlist here.

@i-am-vita, thank you for the beautiful banner

Word Count: 8,910

The Storyteller - Sapsorrow "Whom so ever fits the ring becomes wed to the warlord who owns it" Themes: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, forced proximity, lord and subordinate, one bed trope, apprehension, mutual pining, obligation, slow burn, eventual love, protective, "where is my wife" trope.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @be-good-please @little-bunnybabe @sukilovesyou @buggyenjoyer @thesailus @under-kitty @acehyacinth @andriannag @one17 @canthebest1 @khaleesihavilliard @quirkyrascal @hungrhay @sentieence @lebanese-afg-ya @captaincupio @szired @sexc-snail

(FanaticSnail Note: I did not get every element I wanted to into this chapter, but I didn't want it to go for too long. Much more to come!)

Song Suggestion: Nocturnal Waltz

The air was siphoned from your lungs at the firm tug of satin ribbon at your back. You hung your head low, eyes closing as you braced yourself against your bedframe with your palms and forearms. A small giggle rose from the woman behind you, continuing her incessant tugging and cinching with all her might.

“Not quite so tight, Perona,” you winced, focussing on stabilizing your voice as you firmly directed her. A small whined groan of disapproval was called from her throat as she began to lessen her firm grip.

“But you have such a pretty waist, my lady,” she complimented you while weaving the dual strands into each other, “Of all the times to show it off, now would be the time to display exactly what Mihawk signed up for.” She concluded her knot tying, ballooning the satin out into a delicately knotted bow and tucked it within the laced corset to hide it from view.

Huffing out a final breath of exasperation, you placed your right palm beneath your breasts to rest atop your diaphragm and elevated to a formal posture. The gown felt spectacular to wear; the material feeling lighter than air while giving you the comfort and security of having the object melt into your figure. The dress was black, an option you did not choose for yourself. In fact, none of this dress was what you would have chosen for yourself.

The black material clung to your chest, a single triangular sash attached to your left shoulder that was pinned to the middle of your back and waterfalling down your frame to pool behind you at your feet. Your bust was an interesting choice. The material was bunched in a fashion to mimic feathers, stitched above a heart-shaped cup to carry your breasts within it. The deep cut in the middle of the gown accentuated your cleavage and stopped just below where you would deem it tasteful to halt its descent.

You sighed in defeat as you stepped over to your vanity, looking at the assortment of jewelry you were tasked with placing atop your body. The dress flowed as effortlessly as the veiled tailfin of a betta fish; imprisoned within the pool of its owners’ design. You had never felt more like a fish on display, the glass sheet of clarity distancing you from the expectant audience.

“Are you okay, my lady?” Perona’s voice uncomfortably close to your right hand side caused you to jolt at her squeaked question. You snapped your head over to greet her wide and innocent eyes, staring unblinkingly at you. Her lips were elevated into a smile, although concern was written on her brows.

“I am perfectly well, Perona,” you stated automatically, turning once again to fixing your collection of ear and hairpieces atop your head. All emeralds, golds and platinums sparkling with an assortment of topaz stones in their deep amber hue. You elected to ignore how close Perona drew herself against you, her face now perpendicular to your cheek as she continued to gaze her unblinking eyes directly into your face.

You growled beneath your breath at her proximity, finally clasping your right earring to your lobe. You reached down to open your vanity draw, raking your fingertips over an assortment of glass vials of fragrances. You halted your hand over your usual scent, rising it from its space in the drawer and beginning to uncork its steel top from its glass canister.

“Are you really going to wear that one?” she whined at you, her hands floating down to the wooden drawer and brushing her hands along the variety of bottles, “what about that one that you wore when we walked in the garden? The one that smelt like bitter honey, and it had that intoxicating woodiness. The one that screams: ‘I’m a sultry mistress, take me by the hips and guide me firmly onto your-.”

“-Perona! Halt your vulgarity!” Your disciplinary voice cut through her train of thought, prompting her eyes to upturn into a mischievous twinkle.

“...I was going to say ‘dancefloor’, Governess,” she giggled, raising a bottle of her suggested fragrance and thrusting it into your hands while simultaneously removing the one you had opened prior. You inhaled deeply, rolling your narrowed eyes at her before apprehensively uncorking the vial and spraying the fragrance on your wrists. You circled the vial around yourself, placing the scent on the sides of your neck, the point between your shoulder blades and began to place the glass bottle back into the cabinet.

Perona snatched the bottle from your hands, quickly sprayed the lowest point of your cleavage and laughed as she dropped it back into the vanity draw. Hastily, she floated her ghostly body away from you and made her way towards the door - as far away as she could be with a feigned surprise expression; reveling in how cross she had made you. Your jaw hung open at her audaciousness, eyes wide in fury only briefly before you sighed out a laugh at your ward.

You glanced at yourself one final time in your mirror, checking to see if there was a single manicured curl out of place before you nodded to your reflection and turned to exit your chambers. As you opened the door, you were greeted by Zoro with his arm elevated in front of him. His fist was balled, his knuckles about to begin their descent to alert you of his presence beyond the wooden barrier.

His hazelnut eyes met yours, his breath halting in his throat as he took in your formal attire. You smiled at him, dancing your eyes over his attire before your brows furrowed at the stretched satin vest firmly clenching his wide torso. In the light of the black material, accents of green were patterned within the embroidered material. The relinquishment of a pale shirt beneath it being a final firm act of defiance at squeezing himself into the mold of the upper classes, but remaining incredibly attractive to the eye regardless.

“Woah,” Zoro sighed, using his surprise to examine your attire while you continued to take him in. You met his eyes once more before your eyes darted up to a single sprig of his moss-coloured hair hanging in the middle of his forehead. You smiled, immediately bringing your bangled and jeweled hand upwards and claiming the lock into your fingertips and tucked it backwards into his combed hair.

“You look very handsome, Zoro,” you praised him, slowly drawing back your hand as you searched for more out of place elements of his outfit to correct his frame with. You noticed a small amount of fray of satin on his left pectoral, prompting your fingers to delicately pick at the material to remove its strand.

As you were distracted by searching over Zoro’s frame for more irregularities in his attire, Perona shot Zoro a teasing look; her lips curling upwards into a broad smile. Zoro’s frown deepened as his blush continued to dust his nose, ears and cheeks. His top lip sucked into his mouth, his bottom lip curling into a deep pout in embarrassment as he continued to ignore his elevated heartbeat as you praised him.

“What a gentleman,” you purred at him, Perona laughing gleefully behind him at his tense stature. As her taunting giggle, you spun to chastise her. Her dark eyes were complimented in the accents of black in her tulle and taffeta skirt, her own corset accented with a pink so deep it almost seemed red in the candlelight.

“That’s enough mischief out of you, young lady,” you reprimanded her, her giggle halting with a gasp. She bowed her head to you, eyes closing and pouting with her lips. Shaking your head, you drew your hand away from Zoro and claimed her chin beneath your fingertips.

“You look beautiful, Perona,” you praised her, meeting her large doe-eyes as her eyelashes parted. Her pout softened into a smile as she reached forward to interlace her hands into your own. You crinkle your nose at her, an action reciprocated with the pink-haired debutant, allowing a moment of playfulness to fall between you and your ward before you turn back to the young gentleman.

“Are you ready to go?” Zoro asked you, his brow arching up in question. You inhaled as deep as your corset would allow you, before nodding along with your slow exhale.

“You seem nervous, are you sure you’re okay?” Perona asked, eyes holding concern while searching your face. You lulled your neck back, looking up into the ornate ceiling and taking a moment to notice all of the intricate carvings drilled into its mastery. Placing your hands up to cradle the back of your neck, you allowed your professionalism to slip in front of your wards for the first time; speaking to them as you would friends, rather than pupils.

“I usually have no qualms in attending formal galas,” you admitted, not yet bringing your head back down to meet with your wards, “but this-... this is not just a formal gala. This is a ball thrown to announce the intentions of unifying myself and a lord. I-...” you trailed off, finally meeting the patient eyes of your wards. Perona’s expression was full of empathy at your confession, brows creasing at the center while Zoro’s face remained unmoving and firm. You allowed your lips to twitch up into a small smile, nodding briefly and slowly blinking your eyes at them.

“-I am ready,” you ushered them with your hands in front of you, shooing them with your fingers. Perona was the first to turn from you, interweaving her hand within the crook of Zoro’s elbow and tugging him away. He continued peering at you over his muscular shoulder, shooting you a pointed look to wordlessly ask you if you were truly comfortable with them leaving you to make your entrance. You warmly smiled at him, eyes soft and delicately reassuring him. He finally turned away, revealing the dark satin knotted pattern vertically cinching his waist and straining under the pressure of his broad chest.

Zoro was wearing a corseted waistcoat. Someone had to cinch in his corseted waistcoat. You narrowed your eyes at them, watching how proud Perona looked as she raked her eyes over his assembly of attire. You allowed a silent laugh to fall from your lips as you drew the conclusion: Perona cinched Zoro into his corseted waistcoat.

As your pupils disappeared from your sights down the hall, you began your own trail down the halls towards the uproar of lively strings in jovial melody. Knowing the protocall, you waited by the partially closed doors for your formal announcement. You peered through the crack of the door, noticing how extravagantly the ballroom was decorated through this small window into your future.

Dracule Mihawk had spared no expense in adorning the walls and halls with an intricate display of his vast wealth. The walls had ropes of golden cast vines dripping from the ceiling, leading down their intricate spirals in spirals towards the guests with bushels of crystalline rose-shaped flowers. The assortment of guests were freshly decorated in clusters of frills, furs and feathers; their pearls and gems glistening under the candlelight.

That is where Mihawk caught you, breathless as he took in his beautiful intended bride to be. You were a sight to behold: wonderment dancing without restraint behind your eyes as you took in the celebration occurring beyond the door. He stuttered in his movement, opting to remain in the shadows just a moment longer as he continued looking over your body firmly secured within the material of his own design. If you got to choose three outfits for yourself to adorn on your wedding day, he wanted just one to suit his own interests. And within that singular choice he made, you were pure perfection incarnate.

He straightened his shoulders, rotating them within his pale sleeves below his own cinched vest to rid himself of any final nerves as he approached you.

“My Betrothed,” Mihawk’s purred voice broke you away from your stooped position; your body responded immediately by fixing your hunched posture upright. You turned, eyes meeting with the amber hued orbs shrouded in shadows.

“Betrothed,” you responded, dipping low into a deep curtsey with your head bowed. The small dip of your head bounced your curls and jangled the intricate headpieces within your manicured locks. Mihawk clicked his tongue, stepping away from the shroud of darkness to finally grace you with his presence.

Mihawk’s signature hat was no longer attached to his head; his hair displaying their natural curl and wave beneath a dark, embroidered tricorne. The usual white of his feather was replaced with a blackened ostrich feather, ombre with a deep crimson accentuating the tips. He paid extra attention to his grooming, ensuring not a single sprig of his facial hair was out of place. A pale shirt with ballooning sleeves was tucked beneath a tight black vest. The boning running down his torso catching your attention and forcing his built chest to display; the way it tightened him was sinful and made his shoulders look that much broader.

As you continued to shamelessly rake your eyes over his slowly approaching body, Mihawk’s yellow eyes were hyper focussed on the small gap in your plump lips as they parted. He couldn’t help the tingle that shot up his spine, knowing how you truly felt for him from your unwitting confession earlier. He relished in being an object of desire, not feeling this form of flattery for quite some time.

By the time your eyes met, you noticed a small twinge of a smile threatening to break through the honey-coloured irises. You tried as you might to remain professional and stoic, knowing within your heart that this match with him was never something to occur naturally between you. You closed your eyes, taking a moment to collect yourself as you attempted to regain your composure. He was intoxicating, every ounce of the lord of Kuraigana was simply-.

“-So beautiful,” he spoke in a voice above a whisper, reaching down to adjust the darkened satin strap clinging to your shoulder by the pinch of his thumb and index finger. You looked down at your dress, noticing his eyes continued to linger on the satin sashes and interwoven pieces attached to your bodice.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” you smiled, watching the way his fingers danced atop the material to smooth over the dress. Mihawk’s eyes drew themselves quietly over your neckline, dancing at your jugular and slowly seeking residence on your lips. He watched as your breath rose and fell between the two rose-coloured borders framing your mouth, fixated on every crevice and divet atop them. He watched them begin to dance as you uttered to him in question.

“Am I everything you hoped I would be?” he heard your voice ask him, breaking him away from his thoughts and snapping his intense eyes upwards to gaze into your own.

“What was that, Betrothed?” he asked, desperately hoping for you to say those words once more.

“Is this everything you hoped it would be, my lord?” you restated your words, blissfully unaware of Mihawk’s mind fluctuating words and unspoken intentions between the lines of your question. You gestured to the dress and fixed your posture once more, waving over your diaphragm to rid the material of any gathered lines from your prior stoop.

He huffed out a small breath of exasperation briefly before gesturing with his right index finger in a circular motion, indicating his desire for you to twirl for him to view it in its entirety. You sighed out your own exasperated breath and skillfully stepped backwards and twirled the pooling skirts of the intricate dress. The slit on your right thigh split to reveal your sheer, black stockings beneath your sharp, pointed heeled shoes. He raked his eyes over your slow turn, looking to each of the elements he had chosen to include: the boned corset with the laced back, the embroidered satin with feathered details and the plunging neckline to mimic his own.

You were perfect. Everything, perfect.

As your twirl halted its crescendo, your skirts fluttered before falling back into their waterfall position by your feet. Looking up into his face, his stoic expression was completely unreadable. You had no idea what thoughts plagued the eyes of your betrothed, nor did you ever assume it would be your place to ever ask.

“We never did choose a title to address each other with, did we?” Mihawk’s left eyebrow elevated as the corner of his lips twitched in question, “Although I do remember stating that you lowering yourself into your subordinate default was no longer appropriate.”

“We initially discussed referring to each other as ‘betrothed’, my-,” He shot you a warning look, forbidding you to say a final utterance to the formal title. You rotated your neck to rid it of its agitation as the two of you began circling each other. Each step Mihawk took, you mirrored it with a step of your own, “But I suggested that was no longer appropriate and sounded too rigid.”

“And have you thought more of it?” Mihawk questioned, allowing his body to be danced with yours a few steps in front of the door where you were to make your grand entrance. He halted his rotation, opting to step forward and bring your bodies all the more closer to each other. You refused to allow him to intimidate you with his presence.

“Have you?” You quipped in return, stepping closer to him and almost pressing your torso against his. He almost cracked a small smile, the ghost of its presence whispering over his mustached lip as he continued to stare his unmoving gaze into your eyes.

“When I introduce you to our guests; I will refer to you as my bride,” he declared, choosing to press his right hand an inch above your hip; slowly dragging it to fall into the mid of your back, “But as you’ve plagued my thoughts of late, my heart calls to you by another name.”

His eyes held a firmness to them, desiring for you to understand your place as his intended, but also harboring more affection for you than you once realized. You were drawn back to your conversation earlier with the Farm-Hand of Kuraigana, your heart singing the praises of the eyes and the voice of the man in front of you. That voice now referring to you almost akin to the prospect of ‘beloved,’ both had you reveling at the notion of affection being possible between the two of you, but also frightening you with the aspect that this could all be due to the suspicious curse that haunts the ring on your unity finger.

“I am your bride,” you whispered, dancing your eyes between his briefly while placing your right palm atop his heart and pushing against it firmly, “and I am fine with being introduced as such, as I would introduce you to our guests as my beau.”

As your heart began to drum frantically, and anxiety nipped at your neck at your approaching confession; a loud fanfare began its call to introduce the lord and intended lady of Kuraigana to the guests below the marble staircase. The shock of the interruption broke you both from your trance, eyes snapping from one another and jolting to the awaiting audience below.

You felt the left arm of Dracule Mihawk reach forward and claim your right arm within the crook of his elbow. Stooping down, he gently voiced a small utterance, “We will talk more on this later. For now, know this,” He leant down to whisper a small secret within your ear, lips brushing gently with the outer shell as his breath danced over your skin, “I’m here by your side, and I will not drop you.”

Your mind immediately began swimming with circling thoughts of the dirt, twig, fur and feather-covered Farm-Hand who has spent his morning with you. He journeyed with you, educating you on interests throughout the land belonging to your betrothed you clutched with your arm. He carried you, allowed defenses to break down between you and confessed to his own romantic ailments.

You refused to let your displeasure be shown on your face by the knowledge that this man you called ‘friend’ had spilled your secrets to your intended beside you: opting to falsify a pleasant smile as Mihawk chaperoned you to the balcony. This would be a conversation to be explored between you the next the two of you should meet.

Applause erupted below as you stepped in tow with your fiance, his face stoic and unreadable as it was moments prior. He guided you down the steps, slowly making your descent below with the mable clicking pleasantly with yours and Mihawk’s formal shoes. As your feet concluded its journey down the steps, the room had once again sprung to life with the merriment of your guests and the uproar of melody drawn from the small orchestra at the corner of the room.

Perona and Zoro were off to the side, opting to stare at the amount of guests within the large ballroom while drinking wine together. You raked your eyes over to several members within the upper class you had trained from youth; a broad, warm smile drawing itself to your face as your eyes met with your former gentlemen and debutants. Each of them you locked gazes with, stooped to a low and perfect curtsey and bow. Your pride in their tutelage swelled your heart and greatly improved your prior disgruntled mood.

That was, until, you caught the whiff of the choking scent of a sour cigar. The nicotine-woven smoke spurred towards you, drawing over your hair and face and dancing with the perfume you had meticulously applied against your skin earlier. You snapped your head towards the position the intrusion was occurring, narrowing your eyes as they met with the purple irises of an incredibly tall and broad gentleman.

Your beau beside you was no short individual, his height far greater than yours. But this man in his broad stature eclipsed the two of you with his presence. His beady eyes held a dangerous, cold-blooded and reptilian stare as it met with your own. You refused to look away from his intimidation, choosing to feign your practiced kindness against your features.

“Sir Crocodile,” Mihawk curtly addressed the man in front of you, “allow me to introduce my bride.” He carefully unwove your hand from within the crook of his elbow, prompting you to automatically step your body between Mihawk’s and this ‘Sir Crocodile’ to formally greet him. He had a cigar clutched between his teeth, his brows upturned in boredom but his eyes holding nothing but complete intrigue. He removed his bitten cigar from his lips by stabbing the tip of a golden hook attached to his left hand and moved to collect your right within his.

Stooping low, he drew up the back of your hand to press his lips against your knuckles with his eyes closing in respect. From this angle, you had the brief opportunity to study his face; noticing a large scar separating his eyes from the bottom half of its face that looked to be particularly painful in origin.

“A pleasure to meet you, my lady,” His raspy voice rumbled at you, the air of danger being omnipresent in the air and surrounds, “I have heard many wondrous things about you.” He opened his eyes at you while his face remained close to your knuckles, looking up at you through his eyelashes with narrowed eyes. Opting to mimic his response and mirror it back to him, you responded in a similar likeness.

“The pleasure is mine, sir,” you uttered in return, a smirk now pulling at your lips in lieu of your false smile, “And I truly wish I could say the same in return.” The rumble of his voice was now ignited with a small chuckle thrust from his lips as he ascended back to full height.

“The Hawk of Kuraigana has not spoken about me to his blushing bride?” Sir Crocodile quipped, his brow raising as his eyes snapped over to Mihawk’s, “My, my. And here I thought we were friends.” Mihawk attempted to contain his composure, not allowing the Crocodile’s suggestion get the better of him.

“I do not recall making much mention regarding my bride’s achievements to you either, Crocodile,” He uttered through a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes. You continued to hold your gaze firmly on the man in front of you, watching his nonchalant amusement dance over his eyes. His jaw continued to hold a bored and exasperated expression, even as he returned his cigar to his lips on the pointed tip of his golden hook.

“I did my own research on such a woman. A governess, Mihawk,” he inhaled a deep breath of nicotine-lace smoke and turned his jaw away from you to relinquish its presence in his mouth while his eyes remained on yours, “And a talented one at that.” You felt the tension between the men rushing between them like the rapids of a river of cloudy water.

“I am an exceptional governess, sir. May I confess to you a trade secret?” you smiled, stepping closer to the larger man and putting a greater distance between you and your fiance. You smirked as he stooped lower, using his pointed hook to smooth a stray hair from his forehead back.

“Please,” Sir Crocodile’s eyes narrowed and humor danced behind his darkened pupils.

You angled your chin upwards, looking down your nose at him through your elongated eyelashes and holding your face stern, “One of the greatest joys in my line of work is finding the stubborn ones,” you stepped closer into him, his smile creaking at the sides, “breaking them in,” your own smile continued to pull upwards, mirroring the playfulness now depicted between you, “and taming them.”

In an instant, Sir Crocodile’s eyes snapped over to meet the intense amber gaze of your beau behind you; an unreadable darkness contained within his purple hue. You witnessed the pointed gaze reflected in the irises of the crocodile, the deep amber hue of your betrothed honing in on the man in front of you; eyes narrow and jaw clenched tight as a steel vice.

“And what a fine job you will make of him yet, my lady,” the rumbled laughter of the crocodile ran through his chest, finally returning to his great height and releasing your hand from within his. He returned his eyes to meet yours, curtly nodded his head in a polite manner and uttered a simple, “Congratulations to the both of you,” before turning back to Mihawk.

“After you conclude with the pleasantries, you will both meet me in the foyer to view the item I have made for you,” he ordered, a smirk pulling at his lips as Mihawk’s frown deepened, “As we agreed, Mihawk. A hundred hands have sewn it.”

Your eyes widened only slightly at the thought, remembering the words Perona had uttered while in her trance; “a crocodile has the moon.” So this is how he is doing it. A wealthy man with the world at his beck and call, commanding those around him by the curt snap of his fingers. Sir Crocodile’s smirk broadened, nodding again and adding a simple; “Lord Dracule,” and a further utterance of, “my lady.”

Mihawk’s presence once again found itself by your shoulder, an elbow extended for you to weave your own through it. As you took his left arm, you found his dominant hand atop your right hand and held it firmly in place. You turned your head to gaze up at the man beside you, his eyes fixed firmly on the back of the retreating figure of the reptilian man from earlier.

“You managed him quite effortlessly,” he uttered in a voice only available to your registry, “But heed this warning,” Mihawk turned his head, his eyes meeting yours and depicting complete seriousness within his face, “Sir Crocodile is not a man you can trust, nor would I want you to ever be left alone with him.”

You nodded your head to him, your gaze fluttering down to focus on his lips moving so beautifully beneath his tailored mustache as he so eloquently spoke. Mihawk followed your eyes, your eyelashes fluttering as they continued to hold firm to his lips. He furrowed his brows, watching as your eyelashes fluttered up to meet your eyes against his amber orbs.

“Consider your warning received,” you uttered breathily, angling your chin up to look down your nose at him, “Are there any further guests I should be equally fearful of, or is it just the crocodile being cause for concern?” He hummed, beginning to chaperone you throughout the grandiose ballroom; all the while continuing to hold his dominant hand over yours within his arm.

As Mihawk opened his mouth to begin disclosing information about his other unruly guests, a loud commotion was occurring within the lounging area of the room. Muffled yelling, angry voices and clashes of wood slapping and scraping against marble echoed within the halls; the musicians electing to continue performing their serenade despite the interruption.

“Can’t you do anything right? No! Over here, here,” the scratchy and hoarse voice barked, prompting the steady shuffle of feet and another loud crash of plank on tile. Mihawk released your hand from within his, continuing to link his elbow with your arm as he hastily drew himself closer to the sound.

As guests parted, your eyes could not seem to form rhyme or reason as to what you were truly looking at. Your eyes were initially drawn to the train of thick, blue locks that veiled down the back of the brightly colored jester in front of you. Clasped firmly around his neck, an off-white ruff with a tight crinkle spiking off with its horizontal diameter incredibly large in size. You raked your eyes down his back, noticing a pale shirt ballooning out and tapering at the wrists beneath a gold, blue and red diamond-printed and patterned vest. Leather pants of the same pattern clung to his body like armor, accenting every muscle beneath it as he stomped his boot-clad feet against the marble floor.

“You idiots,” he growled, folding his arms over his chest briefly before flailing it out in front of him, “This is for Mihawk’s bride! Do you want to lose your heads? Because, so help me, if you drop that box one more time, I’m gonna-!” He turned away from the people in front of him, locking his teal eyes against yours.

All words fled from the mind of the blue-haired clown-captain as his teal eyes danced with your own irises. His lips opened and shut, nothing forming within his painted mouth as his throat struggled to produce coherence.

“Buggy,” Mihawk curtly snapped, bringing the clown’s attention over to meet Mihawk’s warning face, “May I introduce you to my bride to be?” Immediately Buggy’s entire body was fixated on taking you in. His arms gesturing out in front of him, his right heel extended and bending his left knee in a deep bow. He held unbreaking eye contact with you, taking in your every expression and response you gave to him: from the softness in your smile, the reprimanding presence in your eyes, to your manicured curls, to the way your breasts were perfectly displayed in the tight bodice of the-.

“-A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir,” your melodic introduction broke his attention away from staring at your bodice, drawing his eyes up to once again meet with your own.

“Believe me, Starlight. The pleasure is all mine,” Buggy’s voice rumbled, a small quiver detected in his throat. Mihawk’s sharp cough drew the clown’s eyes back to meet with the lord of Kuraigana with a winced grimace-like grin forming over his painted lips.

“Mihawk,” He elevated his voice in a loud greeting, leaning forward and clapping his left hand over his right shoulder, “I have the thing for you,” he cocked his head over to the large wooden chest, the smallest sliver of pale chiffon jammed within the iron brim of the frame. Your eyes darted over to the material, your legs carrying you far enough away to no longer hear a hushed conversation between your intended and the jester.

“Fuck me, Mihawk,” Buggy hushed out his breathy exclaim, choosing to fix his gaze on your stoop as you looked at the box with curiosity, “She’s spectacular. And you’re telling me you didn’t want her as soon as you laid eyes on her? If you still feel that way, by all means I’ll take her off your hands-.”

“-No.” That verbal warning was all it took to have the clown-captain sucking his lips into his mouth and eating his words. The two men continued to stare their unwavering eyes over your body as you rose from your stoop.

“Is this-,” you began, attempting to hide your unease at the notion that two of the three requirements were potentially presented to you in the same night, “-Is this one of the-?”

“-This is starlight for you, Doll,” Buggy chimed in, a broad grin decorating his painted face as he stepped closer to you, “If I may?” he asked, presenting his right hand out to collect your own. You danced your eyes briefly over to meet with Mihawks, an unreadable expression once again remaining stoic against his face.

You placed your left hand within Buggy’s, his grimace-grin softening with his eyes as he brandished your arm open to take in your whole appearance. He started with your feet, drawing his eyes up the slit of the full bodied, satin skirt and stopped his gaze at your waist. Holding it there a moment, he stepped closer to you and continued slowly looking over your figure, small hums exiting his large, red nose at each point he drew his attention to.

“You. Oh, you,” He exclaimed, stepping closer still to your body. He hovered his left hand in front of your waist, his right still claiming your left within its caress, “You are going to look so radiant in that dress. You’re going to want to kiss me, Mihawk. Your bride- you, Doll,” he hovered his hand over you, eyes watching yours as you held your attention fully on reading the flashy individual in front of you, “The stars are going to envy your radiance. Fuck, you’re gorgeous-.”

“-Enough, Clown,” Mihawk’s bored vocal warning hand Buggy’s embrace immediately flees from your arms and holds them up to display defenselessness. Mihawk made eye contact with one of the members of the household staff, wordlessly directing them with a small gesture to remove the wooden box and move it elsewhere, away from prying eyes.

You took that small moment to look over to where your former students were gathered, each taking to the dance floor with ease and gliding along the surface with practiced precision. Your heart swelled, the feeling of pride rising to adorn your cheeks with a content smile. Mihawk turned away from Buggy and the staff, his lips parting as he began to relay something no longer deemed important as he stood in awe. He wanted to commit the way your face lit up to memory: the upturn of your eyes, the shape of your lips as they rose in glee, the way your eyelashes partially shielded your twinkle in your irises.

“You danced with your bride yet, Hawkie?” Buggy quipped at Mihawk’s ear in a tone and pitch low enough to only be heard by the swordsman. Mihawk looked through the corner of his eye, narrowing his pointed gaze at the clown by his side.

“We are greeting our guests, Clown,” he spoke through his scowl, his voice warning the clown to desist with his incessant line of questioning and lewd comments regarding his intended spouse. Buggy’s eyes widened with an enthusiastic twinkle, his pearled teeth baring into a large smile.

“Well, hop to it, bird-boy,” Buggy jested at the broody lord, pressing his gloved hand down to clap over Mihawk’s left ass-cheek. If Mihawk were not indebted to the clown for creating a prominent piece to save his mortal soul, he would have had him drawn and quartered for such an action.

The curt sound of a slap drew you away from your students to seek out its source, only to find the clown with a triumphant smile plastered on his face while your betrothed bore his eyes into him with a burning hatred. Sensing a small amount of tension from the two, you nodded your head to the clown with a polite smile and wove your right hand within the crook of Mihaw’s left arm once more.

“It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir Buggy,” you meant every word spoken through your lips; your smile genuine for the flashy fool, “And I thank you for aiding my beau with his task in completing an impossible task. Truly, sir.” Buggy’s face beamed up at you, his body now crouched in a flamboyant bow to humble himself before your feet.

“My lady,” he uttered in a hushed whisper, rising once more to his full stature; his frilled collar bobbing beneath his lengthy blue hair, “I am just a clown. I aint worth all that-.” You shook your head, elevating your voice to cut off his train of thought.

“-And I am just a governess, sir,” you nodded your head, pursing your lips and smirking up at him, “We are worth far more than the titles that make us, do you not agree?” Mihawk continued to lay his face stoic, attempting to disguise his rise of adoration through clenching his jaw. He gave a short nod to the clown, dismissing him as he led you further within the crowd.

You stood silently at his side, nodding politely as he continued to guide you on to make the acquaintance of several more lords from nearby lands, and notorious pirate captains he felt obliged to extend a formal invitation. He could not fault your ability to navigate the room, carefully balancing and reflecting energies and intentions back without fault nor flaw.

That was, until, your eyes met with the intense and playful glint of a redheaded captain Mihawk truly thought would pose no threat. Standing amongst several close members of the Red-Hair pirates, all dressed in tailored suits with their weapons tucked in tasteful spaces amongst the belts and ribbons. As Mihawk began to form words to introduce you to his former rival, the Redhead immediately shot a wide and winning grin pulling at his lips, with surprise written in his chestnut eyes.

“Vile Exterminator!” Shanks exclaimed with glee, his eyes meeting yours with enthusiasm. Mihawk’s face paled, shock written all over his face at his introduction to you. He snapped his head over to meet with your face, meeting only with playfulness depicted within your eyes

“Red-Haired Rat!” you responded back with an equal amount of surprise. You unwove your arm from its place hooked within your betrothed as Shanks stepped forward and circled his one arm around your waist. He hoisted you off your feet, circling you around within the air as his eyes danced between yours.

“I thought that was you in the announcement,” Shanks uttered affectionately into your cheek, pressing a chaste kiss upon the skin, “Could recognise the disdain in your eyes anywhere, love.” He placed your feet back onto the floor, giving you an opportunity to place a gentle reprimanding slap against his chest.

“Charming as you ever were, Rat,” you uttered, stepping away from the redhead captain and politely bowing to the silver-haired first mate beside him, “Beckman, always a pleasure. Keeping the Rat away from the henhouse?”

“Always, Exterminator,” Beckman smiled, inhaling a deep breath from his cigarette and exhaling it away from your face.

“Good boy,” you praised him, watching the corner of his lips tick into a small smirk at the verbal reward you offered him. The lord of Kuraigana followed the exchange like a hawk examining a potential kill. He was not amused.

“It appears you have history with my bride, Red-Hair,” Mihawk stated with narrowed eyes, warning written in his unspoken expression. Shanks’ grin only seemed to grow further, if at all possible. Shanks danced his eyes between the two of you, taking in your appearance as you stood beside the broody former-warlord beside you.

“I have been known to bump into her from port to port,” Shanks confidently declared, shooting a winning wink from his tri-scarred eye. You rolled your eyes at the movement, returning back to your prior position beside Mihawk and interweaving your arm within his.

“One or two of my prior debutants had an affection for sailing men,” you spoke slowly, training your eyes on the pirates smirking with pride in front of you, “It was my job to chase them out.” Mihawk released a breath he didn’t know he was holding, slow enough to not draw your attention away from your stare in front; but not subtle enough to escape Shanks’ knowing glace.

You turned to the man at your side, noticing the tension arising in his jaw as he continued to look at the redhead captain in front of you. Placing your palm firmly on his bicep while circling it, you gave his arm a small reassuring squeeze, drawing his attention back down to you. Your left brow quirked up at him, a small purse of your lips as your gaze drew down to his mouth.

“I have also been known to acquire passage aboard the Red Force if I am in dire need,” you commented, floating your eyes back up to hear the amber hue of your intended’s eyes. He stooped down, turning his head away from Shanks’ teasing expression. His breath tickled your neck, his scent intoxicating as he purred a gentle reprimand in the shell of your ear, “And you said you were a lady.”

The hue of a warm blush rose in your chest, flushing your cheeks with its radiant heat. You clenched your jaw tightly closed, your brows furrowed as Mihawk pulled away from your neck with his lips twitching up into a small smirk. Shanks raised his right arm out defensively, a huffed laugh exiting his mouth with a grimace-grin akin to one the clown presented earlier.

“I assure nothing untoward has ever occurred between myself, my crew, and your intended, Hawk-Eyes,” he laughed, prompting a rumbled chuckle to gather within the chest of the smoking first-mate beside him. You snapped your pointed gaze back to the red-head captain, narrowing your eyes at him and wordlessly chastising him to hold his tongue.

“Rat,” you nodded your head, dismissing yourself from this conversation while unlinking your arm from within Mihawk’s.

“Exterminator,” He nodded in return, training his eyes after you as you made your way unchaperoned within the ballroom. Mihawk stood in place, turning back to glare at the red-head in front of him. He again opened his mouth to begin a lengthy verbal battle with his former rival, only for Shanks to immediately speak over his words.

“I have almost completed your request: so close I could almost see the vision. Mihawk-...” Shanks paused, stepping closer to the swordsman and turning him away from his crew. Both mens eyes fell over your form as you smiled and conversed with your prior students; introducing them affectionately to both Perona and Zoro now at your sides. All smiles, all beautiful and lovely smiles capable of having the highest of highs stoop to the lowest they’d become under the majesty of your smile.

“-Mihawk,” Shanks again spoke breathily, “I hope you are truly aware of how much of a lucky bastard you are,” He wrapped his arms firmly over the lord’s shoulders, the feather atop Mihawk’s hat bobbing under the swift movement. Mihawk sighed, closing his eyes and feeling a rise of agitation forming as the redhead continued to keep his one remaining arm hooked over his shoulders.

“I am fully aware of how truly amazing she is, Red-Hair,” Mihawk began, clicking his neck in an attempt to rid himself of such agitation, “And I can admit to you, as my oldest rival, that I have begun to develop a fondness for her. I would never give in to such an emotion, but rather shield her from how much I adore her.” He turned to face the captain once again, baring his eyes fully into his with a blinding and furious intensity; remaining blissfully and shamefully ignorant to your slow approach behind him.

You heard the next words of their hushed conversation, each word twirling like a dagger to the heart; but no context of the prior words spoken between them.

“I would have never chosen such a woman for myself,” Mihawk confessed to his rival, “I never wanted to marry, to take a wife, and to open myself up to the prospect of love. I am hating every minute I have to continue leading this facade.”

Your face fell, hearing the swirl of those words echo within your mind falling from the lips of your betrothed to your oldest acquaintance. Your heart shattered, hearing the words formed with a man you had begun to harbor affection for - a man who you were set to marry as soon as the final demand was met. You bit back the rise of bitterness within your throat and opted to not respond or react to the hurtful words spoken from the lips of your betrothed, but rather clear your throat and stilling your expression by flipping back to your prior state of pure professionalism.

“I am glad we agree on our mutual displeasure at the prospect of joining together in matrimony,” you attempted to mask your heartache by allowing your rage to bubble to the surface, “Perhaps after we conclude with this sham, we could ask Red-Haired Shanks to process a speedy annulment? He is a captain, after all.” Mihawk snapped his face over to meet with your own, watching as your lips drew into a thin line and chin drew upwards into the air.

“Would you excuse us, Shanks,” Mihawk stated suddenly, immediately reaching his left hand forward and grasping your right within his palm. Rather than to react by pulling your hand out of his grip and stomping away like the young teenager within you screamed at you to do; you allowed him to lead you away from the soiree of guests and out onto the quiet balcony overlooking the moon-dusted garden.

You held your surliness prominently against your face, not speaking nor listening to the amassment of voices laughing merrily together within the ballroom. As soon as you both marched through the threshold of the balcony, Mihawk immediately shut the doors behind you to shroud you both in darkness. Without turning to face you, he uttered darkly with his voice dripping in unrestrained ferocity.

“Is that how you truly feel about me? About this?” Mihawk growled, balling his fist and placing it on the wall beside him. You remained expressionless, choosing to vocalize your answer. You compartmentalised your emotions, boxing them away as you had trained yourself through the years to do so.

“Answer me,” He whispered, turning to finally face you. His brow was deep, his lips parted and eyes brimming with fury.

“What good would gracing you with an answer do here?” you asked him, shaking your head at him. He stepped forwards, prompting you to dance away from his rapid approach. His footsteps stuttered, his arm halting its reach for you as you continued to hold your face stoic and expressionless.

“Was it all a lie?” Mihawk whispered accusingly, “Everything you told me: was it a lie? My eyes, my voice - all of it?”

You furrowed your brows into the middle of your forehead, attempting to recall a conversation you had with him regarding those aspects of your adoration for him. Your eyes held a seriousness to them, the private moment you shared with the Farm-Hand being the only time you had ever confessed to such a thing again dancing into the forefront of your mind.

“You were eavesdropping on me? Ensuring I was behaving as your intended should? Watching me with the Farm-Hand as a parent would hover over an undisciplined child?” Your fury began to rise and elevate your voice within your throat, “I can assure you, my lord,” that final title had another growl free itself from the throat of the lord of Kuraigana, “I have never behaved in a manner unbefitting a lady-.”

“-That does not answer my question, Governess,” his voice roared with passion, his hair being freed from its confinement beneath his hat as his right hand removed it and cast it to the side, “Was it all a lie?” You backed away from him, your fingertips finding the coarse cement of the marble barrier behind you. You sighed, huffing out your agitation and allowing the moment to suspend your rage as you glared at him.

“Was what a lie? Articulate your words, sir, and I may yet grace you with the answer you so desperately seek,” your passion flared, your correcting reprimand strict and firm in your voice and stature.

At that small challenge, Mihawk was on you in an instant; his hands seeking out your waist and pulling you flush against him as his lips bruised yours in a vicious caress. The intensity of the oscillation dizzied your head, swelled your heart and confused your mind with this degree of unrestrained affection.

He raked his hands over your ribcage, drawing them behind your back, his fingertips slowly raking up each of the divots of the corset behind you. He hooked his arms between your shoulder blades, as your hands found themselves entangling within his raven curls. The brush of his silken mustache grazed your gradually swelling lips as you returned the kiss with equating intensity. You felt his teeth take your bottom lip between them, biting with fury as he drew you closer within his firm embrace. You gasped into his mouth, feeling a groan siphon itself from his lips into your own.

He broke his lips away from yours and began to place open mouthed and heated kisses against your jaw, relishing in the way your skin felt beneath his lips with the cries of surprise propelling him onwards.

“You have ruined me,” he growled into your cheek, raking his teeth over your jaw and up to your ear, “Look at what you’ve made of me.” He drew his lips away from your earlobe and began trailing hot and desperate kisses down your neck, inhaling the sweet perfume Perona had so subtly sprayed on you earlier. You whimpered as he placed a kiss on your pulse, soothing over the rapid beat with his tongue as he felt your breath hitch.

“Mihawk, stop,” you whispered, his actions immediately halting as he snapped his head away from your neck to gaze up into your eyes. Wide and worried was the expression he was met with, his desperation seeping out of his eyes and weeping down onto his face. He sighed, pressing his forehead onto your own, his eyes closing as he felt your anxiety roll off of you and onto him.

“I would never hurt you. You are my bride, my belov-...” his words trailed off as his throat closed them painfully between his tonsils. Your eyes widened as his remained closed, watching the pain draw up onto his face at his unspoken confession. You closed your eyes, leaning into his affectionate touch and inhaling deeply.

“I would never allow myself the luxury of harboring affection for you should you desire severance,” you admitted with a soft smile, drawing your forehead away from his as his eyes reopened to meet with yours. He sighed, both removing your arms from one another while remaining a whisper away from each other.

“And I would never find myself willingly breaking away from you, my lady,” Mihawk quipped in return, his lips threatening to break into a curled smirk beneath his mustache. You were the first to smile, reaching up your right hand to caress his left cheek beneath your palm.

“Perhaps we should return to our event, my lord,” you uttered, dancing your eyes between his before reaching your thumb down to remove some of the lip paint that had passed onto his face from your own, “I may even provide you with the dance you asked me for those many years ago.”

A sound fell into the air that you didn’t realize your heart yearned to hear fall from the parted lips of the lord of Kuraigana. His lips broke upwards, eyes cracking gently at the corners and his heart poured from his mouth in a small uproar of hearty laughter. This laugh felt so familiar to you, yet the sight of his face depicting such a sound was the most beautiful thing to take into your sights. He sighed, leant into your palm and pressed a gentle kiss into your flesh with his eyes briefly closing.

“I would want nothing more, beloved.”

#one piece #opla #x reader #opla fic #mihawk #dracule mihawk #mihawk fanfiction #op fairytale au #one piece fairytale au #mihawk fairytale au #sapsorrow au #mihawk sapsorrow au #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader #one piece live action #opla mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #one piece mihawk

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multific · 1 year

Text

Gender Reveal Party - Preferences

Modern Warfare Men x Wife!Reader

Summary: What it is like to have a gender reveal with your husband?

John Price

It was actually your idea to hold a little gender reveal party, but John loved the idea.

Sharing this moment with your loved ones sounded like an amazing idea.

Gaz was responsible for getting the correct balloon which you will pop and it will show if you are having a boy or a girl.

You had a small party before the balloon came out to play.

Of course, the balloon would have been army themed, because why wouldn't it.

People at the party choose if they believed the baby to be a girl or a boy. You were truly blessed to have such amazing people around you.

And then, you popped the balloon.

Pink.

A little girl.

John hugged you tightly as you felt the tears of joy in your eyes.

You knew you would have been okay with either a girl or a boy it truly didn't matter.

But both of you were extremely happy to have a little girl.

Simon Riley

Simon wanted it to be a private 'reveal'. He wasn't too keen of the balloons, cakes or whatever. He would have been fine with the doctor telling you two.

It was actually Johnny's idea that you needed a party. And you were all for it. Your husband? Not so much.

But you knew he would end up enjoying it so it didn't matter. Johnny offered to even do everything for the party. He just needed Simon's credit card.

The party was simple and private. To be honest, you were rather excited. After seeing Johnny arrive with so many decorations and such great ideas for the reveal.

It ended up that Johnny preparing a small ghost-shaped cake. The inside will tell the gender.

You will never forget Simon's face when he saw the cake. You just hoped Price took a picture of it.

To be fair, Simon did enjoy the party until that cake came out. It was as if the reality of the situation came crashing down on him. He was about to become a father and soon he will know if he would have a boy or a girl. It made him nervous.

But you were just as nervous.

You cut the cake and it was blue.

You were having a boy.

You looked at Simon with a smile but he kept on staring at the cake with a small smile on his lips.

"We are having a little lad." he said as he hugged you tight.

Jonny MacTavish

Now of course it would be Johnny's idea to have a party. He planned on getting the grill out, invite your friends and have a blast.

And who were you to ruin such a good opportunity?

A pregnant woman who was very sick, that's what you were. You spent more time by the toilet than with your friends.

But you did manage to spend some time out with the others as well.

Soon, John arrived with the reveal. He said he planned it rather simple, it was a gift box and the inside would tell the gender.

You let Johnny open it as both pink and blue confetti flew out of the box. Everyone looked at John Price with a confused expressions before he pulled out a paper and handed it to Johnny.

"You are having twins." you nearly fell over as you moved to look at the paper. It was from the doctor and it said: twins.

A girl and a boy.

After about five seconds of confusion, you and Johnny started to laugh and hugged each other.

How will you deal with two little Soaps you didn't know, but you were also very happy for having twins.

Kyle Garrick

It was actually both of you who decided to have a gender reveal party. A friend of yours was given the task to prepare the surprise and she thought having smoke flares would be the best idea.

You and Kyle stood in your garden, ready for the others to pop the flares.

You were nervous but so was Kyle, his hold on your hand said it all.

Then everything went up and it was all pink.

However, something was wrong. Your friend started running around yelling.

"NO! NO! IT'S A BOY! NO!" she ran up to you handing you the paper and you read it. It indeed said, boy.

"They must have gave me the wrong colour!" she explained and apologized but you could only laugh.

"IT'S A BOY!" soon everyone realized the mistake and was laughing now.

You and Kyle shared a hug.

"We have a pink boy." he said and you laughed.

Alejandro Vargas

Alejandro preferred a silent night with some drinks. He was never into parties and having many people around.

So, he invited Rudy over to your house. Rudy was supposed to come alone.

But of course, he didn't.

Your small and silent night turned into a party.

And soon the pinata arrived. You looked at Rudy confused.

"It's time to find out if you are having a little chico or chica!" he said as he smiled.

With a club given to Alejandro everyone took a step back.

He hit the pignata and pink candy fell out of it.

"IT'S A GIRL!" yelled Alejandro as he and Rudy danced around one another.

You could only smile as you watched them before they turned to you and your husband gave you a hug.

"We are having a little girl, Mi Amor!"

König

Now, König was definitely not one for parties so you had to get creative.

So it was only the two of you while you gave the paper from the doctor to the bakery so they can prepare you a surprise.

You ended up ordering 12 cupcakes. And one would have a little surprise inside which would be either pink or blue. All the others would be empty.

You have König 6 pieces and 6 to yourself and whoever finds the one, wins.

The rule was that you had to eat all until you find the one.

He found it, and you knew he did. It was his fourth and you were only on your second. You saw him freeze and his eyes fill with tears. You grabbed his wrist and turned the cupcake, seeing the inside had a small pink part.

You looked at him and smiled.

"We are having a little girl." you said and it caused him to break down crying.

You watched as his huge shoulders shook with each movement as he sobbed.

"Es ist ein Mädchen." he said so many times, you hugged his head to your chest as his hands went around you, holding you close.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

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elatedfool · 1 month

Text

daylight

its's ayato day!!!! mention of murder, fluff! lots of petnames (wife, beloved) also i haven't actually written anything for him so sorry hubby take this as an apology letter ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ i put some taylor lyrics here btw hihi 😼

AYATO is anything but innocent, and he knows that very well.

he has crossed many lines, stained those hands he use to caress your cheek tenderly with blood—not that he did it out of nowhere—and has his fair share of mistakes. nevertheless, ayato never told you goodbye. he can't, to be precise. he doesn't want to look at anything else after he saw you. you are... what makes life better for him, like a ray of sunshine forcing itself into the bleak water that is his life.

do you know of this secret of his? yes, you know it very well, actually. the commissioner was not the type to hide things from his beloved. he prefers to let you know and be aware of the risk you are taking merely because you became his lover.

do you accept it? living in constant fear of someone from the other two commissions taking you hostage to draw the attention of kamisato ayato, having a lot of noble friends across inazuma, yet knowing that any of them could backstab you in any situation?

yes, of course, it was worth the risk if it means you can sneak into the bed and intertwine yourself with him, come home to his sweet nothings, and feel his hand around your waist everytime you are taking a stroll around the city to show you off to everyone, letting them know who do you belong to.

plus, ayato provides everything for you, and i mean it when i say everything—he assigned the shuumatsuban to guard and watch over you whenever he's too busy to accompany you out, and when you come home exhausted, his servants have prepared a warm bath and lit up the scented candle to enhance your experience. you wouldn't have to lift a finger, for you deserve to relax and be pampered by him.

but in this special occasion, you want to reverse the role and pamper the head commissioner instead! you baked the softest and most beautiful cake for him with the help of thoma and ayaka, decorate your bedroom with cherry blossom petals and heart shaped balloons—everything is perfect, and you are sure ayato will be elated when he comes home to this.

"my love, i have returned—"

"happy birthday, dear brother—master—my husband!"

the three of you spoke in unison, with you holding the cake up, thoma carrying an entire jug of milk tea, and ayaka popping the party crackers. ayato is surprised, very much so, of course, but the commotion is welcomed as he barely has time to spend with his sister, his most trusted servant, and you—the most treasured people in his life.

when the initial shock fades, his weary eyes lit up with delight, walking up to you to plant a kiss on your lips. it was meant to be a short and quick one, but after being away from you for so long (by so long i mean like, two days), it would be too cruel to reject the kamisato clan leader's advance.

the cake in your hand almost got knocked over when ayato leans further down to devour your lips—thankfully, the ever-so-competent thoma managed to save it despite having his hands full, but not without mumbling how you two should really be more careful. meanwhile, ayaka smiles fondly at her brother's clingy attitude, secretly taking pictures of the romantic moment as a memento of this special day.

your husband doesn't seem to care that much about the cake though, your lips are waaaay sweeter than any whipped cream in teyvat and way softer—the softest, dare he says. one kiss from you and he's sure that heaven is a thing because he went there everytime you touch him. he's so lost in the taste of your lips that it takes a loud and harmonized cough from ayaka and thoma to get him to separate himself from you.

"are you done, master?" the blond man asks with a grin, finding it cute how the serious and cunning master he serves can be this adorable when it involves you, "we should really start eating! wouldn't want the dinner to go cold,"

ayaka turns to look at you and her brother, knowing that you two might like some privacy, "we will be waiting at the dining hall," ayato simply nods in gratitude for her understanding, before turning his attention back at you.

"so, my beautiful wife is the one who prepared all this surprise for me?" he grins mischievously, trying to mask his excitement and giddiness with that smirk he always wore when he's trying to fluster you. you nod to confirm his words, "with the help of thoma and ayaka,"

ayato chuckles, already knowing the answer but doesn't want to miss the chance of calling you his wife—the way you congratulate him earlier did not went past his ear by the way, and he loves, looooves the sound of being called as your husband. after living a colorless life with only his sister to support him, he is finally able to throw his cloak and daggers away because morning has arrived in the form of you.

"i had the best birthday of my life, and it's all because of you," he smiles at you, leaning down again to kiss your forehead, "i love you, my darling,"

#genshin x female reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x y/n #genshin fluff #ayato x you #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader

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neopetting · 26 days

Note

Maybe five or six for the ship prompts!

5 - write about a casual kiss between your ship

The kitchen floods with light—his body with panic. Bob winces. Briefly, stupidly, he considers trying to shove the bread behind the toaster oven and making up a lie about the butter. I was… just… taking it out so it would be soft for breakfast. No, Lin, I do this all the time. Well, you’ve never woken up while I was doing it before!

He has a good five or six inches on his wife, but the steely look in her eye makes her shape fill the doorway. Arms crossed, she pads angrily over to him on her tiny, pointy, kicky, bare feet. Some merciful facet of his brain that isn’t currently terrified registers the way her hips move under her nightgown. He tries to swallow, but all his spit has disappeared. And his mouth is full of evidence.

Bob lowers the piece of bread in his hand and attempts to form words around the chunk still in his mouth. “I’m—”

“What? Sorry?” Linda reaches him, instantly all up in his face, her voice uncharacteristically hushed to account for their sleeping kids, yet somehow still deafening. “You’re sorry I caught’cha, Bobby?” She narrows her eyes, hissing out the next part so it sounds extra venomous. “With your mistress?”

He squints back at her, finally choking down his glorious, yeasty, perfectly-buttered bite of bread. Focusing on the taste puts some fight in him.

“…You know what? I’m not sorry.” Bob tenses his whole body to keep from chuckling as he watches her mouth fall open in exaggerated shock. “Yeah, that’s right. You kicked me awake, and then I couldn’t go back to sleep thinking about the bread all alone out here. It probably thought we didn’t love it enough to eat it right away.”

Linda is leaning on him now, squashing her torso against his arm with considerable force. Is she… trying to physically intimidate him? Or maybe she thinks she can seduce him into defeat by pressing her chest against his side, drumming up some cleavage. It wouldn’t be the first time. Plenty of Lin’s wiles begin with her just kind of… putting her boobs on him.

Bob surveys her coolly. “Also,” he says, tapping a finger against the loaf on the counter, “it’s not my mistress. It’s like… my child.” His voice rasps with sudden emotion. “This bread is our fourth child.”

One corner of Linda’s mouth lifts into a lopsided smile, but she stays incredulous. “Oh, so you were on daddy duty, huh? Came to check on our little bun-fresh-out-the-oven?” Delighting herself, her smile is the real deal now. “Didja hear it rye-ing over the baby monitor?”

He rolls his eyes so hard it almost hurts, but can’t hide his amusement. “You know it’s not rye. It’s—”

“Garlic sourdough woven with rosemary-thyme whole wheat sourdough,” she chimes in, doing her best Dedicated Chef Bob impression—a deep, goofy voice that sounds nothing like him. She wraps an arm around her husband, breaching the waistband of his boxers to slide her palm against his soft, warm hip. Planting her chin on his shoulder, she stifles a yawn. “See? I listen. I’m a good flour mama.”

Bob hums, a floaty sensation ballooning in his chest as she parrots back to him the recipe he’d been mentioning all week. It’s not surprising, anymore, how Linda pays attention to the things that excite him. But it’s never stopped feeling good.

“You are,” he confirms. From the corner of his eye, he takes a second to study her. Lin’s glasses are sitting a bit crooked, probably from hastily throwing them on to catch him in the act. Her thick, wavy hair is mussed from sleep. She notices him sneaking a stare and trains her ridiculously dark brown eyes on his. Definitely not for the first time, Bob thinks about how her eye color perfectly matches just-ground espresso after it’s been tamped down tight, waiting to be brewed. Sometimes he struggles to maintain eye contact, even with someone he’s loved for fifteen years, but he holds her gaze. Waits a beat. “You’re one in glu-ten million.”

She blinks once. Twice. Then she’s snort-laughing much too loudly and giving his love handle an affectionate squeeze, making him yelp and twist toward her. “Look at youuu, bein’ all cutesy-wootsey!” Her free hand skitters up his chest and brushes over his mustache as she beams at him. “Must be the Thanksgiving Eve magic. You gonna kiss me under the wishbone tomorrow before you go full crazy-pants kitchen troll, or what?”

“Mmmaybe.” Bob smiles gently against her fingertips. “Tina will fight you for the wishbone, though. I guess I could… kiss you under some giblets? Uh, before I start the gravy.”

“Ooh, giblet kisses. Romantic,” Linda coos. Her hand slips out of his shorts and he feels her fingers patter against the underside of his butt cheek. She points her chin toward the bread, eyes bright. “Now gimme a piece!”

Grabbing the serrated knife, Bob can’t suppress a wobbly giggle. “It’s so good, Lin. Better than I thought I could get it. I think the test loaves really helped.”

Earlier in the week, he had baked each dough recipe into two smaller, individual loaves to get their proofs right. Then, cautiously happy with the results, he’d launched the main event—meticulously braiding the batches together, then reshaping them into a single round, bubbly, perfectly-marbled mass. He’d been consumed by bread stuff for days. At one point, Linda had resorted to wrestling the laptop away from him when he’d stayed up until 2 AM researching techniques to keep sourdough properly inflated. But it was worth it. The final loaf is crusty and deeply golden all along its surface, the lighter and darker dough shades contrasting beautifully. Specks of the chopped herbs mixed into its whole wheat portions are visible in the scores, which look like stalks of wheat. The bread is downright gorgeous. Every time Bob lays eyes on it, he wants to burst into tears.

“Aww, my little Bobby baker,” Linda says. She stares hungrily as the knife glides through the loaf with several satisfying crunches. “I feel kinda dirty, though.” Her nails tap against the countertop in anticipation. “You made a whole big show about nobody eating it ‘til tomorrow.”

Bob snorts. “That was just so Gene wouldn’t eat literally all of it. He’s as excited about it as I am.” He slathers Linda’s slice in the fancy farmer’s market butter he’d safeguarded to use exclusively with his bread, then presents it to her.

She reaches for it, eyes shining, but furrows her brow when he pulls it back slightly. Shifting closer, she goes for it again. Bob holds the piece out of range, eyebrows raised and wearing the faintest of smirks. Linda scrunches her nose at him, about to complain, before she tracks him looking at her lips and realization dawns. She laughs tenderly and balls a fist in his shirt, leaning up and in. He meets her halfway. The kiss is quick, but so sweet that both their eyelids flutter shut.

“Ooh, mm,” Linda exclaims. “You taste like butter.” She yanks firmly on his collar. “Give me the friggin’ bread.”

Bob offers it in earnest. Suddenly, he’s plagued with nerves.

She gingerly takes it from him, her bottom lip jutting out. “No toasting?”

He gives his head a curt shake. “Doesn’t even need it.” Why does he feel like he’s just asked her out and is desperately hanging on a response? Dumb, he thinks.

Linda sinks her teeth into the bread. Bob’s eyes feel way too big for his face as he watches her chew. Slowly, she brings a hand up to cover her mouth, then locks gazes with him. He worries he might accidentally pee a little.

Swallowing, Linda flashes him a megawatt grin. “Oh. Bob. Hon.” She touches his chest. “It’s really good.”

“Right?” Blinding triumph ricochets through him. “Thanks. I kind of can’t believe it came from me.” He picks up his own piece, raising it to his mouth, then pauses. “Is this what giving birth feels like?”

“Yeah, sure,” Linda says around her second bite. “Little more sweat and blood with a human baby, maybe. And you don’t eat it after. It’s been a while.”

Just as Bob’s lips reconnect with his slice, the unmistakable creak of a door opening slams into him. Linda freezes mid-chew.

Gene’s voice, cushioned by a heavy yawn, sidles out from down the hall. “Is that butter I smell…?”

Bob’s eyes bore into Linda’s. “How is he smelling the butter?” he asks frantically, barely above a whisper.

“He’s very talented!” she hisses back, jabbing a finger into his upper arm. “You made him! Get down, get on the floor. I’m going.”

Bob has only seconds to hide the bread and butter before Linda’s pushing him to his knees. “Oh, God. Lin—OW,” he grunts, belly hitting the linoleum. It’s not lost on him that none of this is necessary.

Linda spins on her heel and trots through the doorway, her tone sing-songy as she rushes to intercept their son. “Genie weenie beanie baby,” she calls, “you’re… dreamin’. Oooooohh, I’m the, uh… ghost of Thanksgiving future. You gotta go back to bed. Or the turkey’s gonna be dry.”

“Nooo,” Gene drawls after a sleepy moment. “You’re a mom-poster. Dad’s turkey would never be dry.”

Bob snickers to himself, huffing as he uses the counter to regain his footing. He pulls out his masterpiece and cuts a slice for Gene.

A/N: their love language is shitty puns <3

#fanfic #writing prompts #boblin #bob/linda #bob x linda #bob’s burgers #bobs burgers #bob belcher #linda belcher #otp #1500 words…. ok. alright. guess man CAN live on bread and boblin alone

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jedi-luca · 2 years

Text

Avenger Lane Chapter Six part 2

Summary: You and your wife Quinn move your family outside of New York City to Avenger Lane; a small private suburbia. There you face your toughest obstacle of your marriage. Will your marriage with Quinn be strong enough when a certain redheaded beauty captures your attention?

Parings: Quinn Fabray x G!P Reader / eventual Natasha x G!P Reader

Warnings: NOT PROOF READ also Drug use!

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Avenger Lane Chapter Six: Part 2 "My Head Is Spinning Like A Screw"

“This is so much better than Painting with a twist.” Natasha grinned as you both shot through a balloon of red paint causing it to splatter across the white walls.

“Definitely.” You say, taking in the painting you both just made.

“It’s a heart.” She kinked her brow with the sweetest smile.

You turn to her and just smile, and she smiles back.

“What?” She’s red and laughing bashfully.

“Take another photo with me?” You lift your phone up gesturing for a photo. “Of course.” She says, rolling her eyes as if to tell you no need to ask.

You know this woman is something special. You know this could be a slippery slope. Quinn doesn’t like her, the kiss didn’t help, and you really don't wanna dwell on it right now. Which lets you know this friendship could be a disaster, but for the first time in a long time you’re looking forward to things.

You set your camera down after setting up the shot.

“Come on.” You say, taking her hand, angling her where you needed her. “Take aim.”

You stood next to her to give the illusion you were shooting with a gun as well.

“Nice.” You grin showing her the finished product.

“I love it.” She nudged you with her shoulder.

“I got another idea.”

“Well what is it?” She huffed.

You set the phone on a table in front of her, getting a white wall in shot. “Make it look like you’re shooting someone.”

She nods and you both agree the shot is perfect. You move in front of the heart and have her take the picture.

“Never really behind the camera.” She grins, happily taking the phone. You teach her how to use the settings to her advantage with the shot.

She takes a bunch of red paint and smears it across your chest then lifts the black paint placing some in the middle forming the heart shaped hole.

“Brilliant Natasha, simply brilliant.” You joke.

“Go pose like you just got your heart broken.”

You do a few poses before she sets the timer and joins you.

“What should we-“

Before you could finish Natasha kissed you. It’s firm but still soft? Almost tender in a way.

“Yup that works too I guess.” You manage to say when she parts your lips stepping back.

“It’s for the shot dorogoy; what’s another kiss between friends?” She winks.

“What does dorogoy mean?” You chuckled as she turned and began messing with other crazy tools to paint with.

“It’s what you are… plus it rolls off the tongue better than ocharovatel'nyy.”

“Not gonna tell me huh?” You kink your brow. “Have it your way then Romanoff.” You take off your plastic gloves the painting place you were at gave you. “Hey Siri, what does the Russian word ocharovatel'nyy mean?”

Natasha furrowed her brows at the way you did an impression of a Russian almost perfectly even though you were totally joking.

‘It means Charming, enchanting, captivating.’

You made a smug face.

“Hey Siri, what does Dorogoy mean?”

‘It means darling, dear, precious.’

“Aww Natty!” You smile bashfully..

“I need a drink.” Natasha rolled her eyes blowing a raspberry at you.

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“I’ll go get us a drink. What would you like?” You ask as she sits down.

“I’ll have a raspberry martini.”

“Got it.” You make your way to the bar and place your order.

“Well, well, well, aren’t you a cutie.” A woman smirked at you. You could tell she’s had a few especially when she places her hand on your bicep.

Natasha frowned at the woman who was becoming handsy with you at the bar. She sat tensely gripping the table.

“Oh, no… sorry I’m married.” You chuckled, taking her hands off of you.

“Good thing I know how to keep a secret.” The woman smirked, pressing herself right back up against you.

“Oh wow. Uhh-“ you look around for Natasha when a sudden flash of red enters your line of vision.

“Hey!” The woman was suddenly shoved away from you and Natasha took your lips against hers.

Your hands automatically going to her hips bringing her flush against you. Her hands are cupping your face. You hummed in the kiss as she bit your lip.

She pulled back and you both slowly opened your eyes. Her hands are still cupping your face and your hands are still gripping her hips. You had half a mind to lean back down to kiss those plump lips again, but the sounds of cheering around the bar brought you back down to reality.

You cleared your throat, breaking eye contact and looking over at the restroom.

“I’ll be right back.” You swallow thickly just as the bartender sets your drinks down.

She nods, stepping aside. Blowing out the air she didn’t know she was holding as she watched you walk away.

“Fuck.” She mutters to herself looking up at the ceiling. She turns towards her drink before taking a sip.

You exited the bathroom you couldn’t have been in for more than 3 minutes. Only to come back seeing some guy grabbing Natasha.

You were gonna kick his ass. You were so ready to pummel this guy for grabbing Nat in that way. You in your anger forgot Natasha can always handle herself mid way of saying “Hey!” Natasha twisted his arm slamming him into the bar.

The bar gasped as the music stopped. The bouncers grabbed the guy and threw him out.

“I told you I can handle myself.” She smirked at you.

“I was just gonna warn him.” You shrug back with a smirk while taking your drink.

“You’ve gotta catch up.” She smirked. Her drink was long gone.

You laughed as she chanted ‘chug, chug, chug!’

She smiles, chuckling as she nudges you as you look around the bar. “I’m hungry again.”

“I better feed you before midnight then.” You grinned, looking down at her as you led her towards the exit.

“I’m not a gremlin.” She snorted, elbowing you.

“Ehh debatable.”

“Your wife is a badass.” The bouncer smirked, opening the door for you.

“Oh, I’m-“ Natasha blushed looking over at you.

You just grinned at her and said “Hell yeah she is.” Pecking her temple. Causing the redhead to blush.

You both hustle across the street towards the pizza joint.

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“Fuck me this is good.” You moaned while taking a bite.

“Let’s finish the date first.” Natasha smirked with a wink.

“Ha ha.”

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier by kissing you. I just noticed how uncomfortable you were with the way she was touching you. I shouldn’t hav-

“Oh no apologies necessary. Homegirl wouldn’t take a hint.”

“You’re better than a midnight PB Sammy.” You grinned lazily.

“You’re drunk.” She chuckled pointing at your expression.

“And a little high.” You cackled.

“How?” She furrowed her brows.

You held up Quinn’s pen with an evil smile.

“Oh she’s gonna be so upset with you.” She chuckled, covering her mouth.

“She doesn’t deserve this with how she’s been acting today. Maybe I should have waited and talked it over with her first, but I’m married to her. We’ve been together since high school. We have a daughter who is in her tweens and another who is about to be 3. I mean-“ you exasperated dropping your slice. “I mean when is it enough? Ya know?”

Natasha who's been steadily listening and staring deep into your soul, nods and reaches over the table for your hand squeezing. “Of course.”

“Sorry I don’t wanna-“

“No apologies necessary, homegirl was out of line.” Natasha smirked with a wink piggy backing off your earlier statement.

You chuckled.

“Okay I think I’m ready to get high.” Nat says after a beat.

“Really?” You ask a little taken back.

“Yeah why not.” She shrugged.

“Alright.” You chuckled while whipping out your phone. You quickly sent out a text and received a response just as quickly. “You done?”

Natasha looks down at her second half eaten slice. “I can’t finish it.”

“Let’s go.” You grinned, taking her slice and eating it as you walked out.

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“Y/L/N!” A short curly haired woman exclaimed as she opened her door, opening her arms.

“Hey Ilana!” You grinned.

“Ugh, long time no see! Come on in! Take a seat, I'll grab the goods.”

You gesture for Nat to follow you in. You take a seat with Natasha as Ilana talks to you.

“Dude when I got your text I was like ‘whaaaaat it’s not re-up time yet’. Plus normally Brittany just comes over and picks up for you guys.”

“Yeah we were in the neighborhood for a friend, and oh so rude of me this is Natasha.”

“Hi Natasha, I’m Ilana.” The curly haired girl said walking in with a large suitcase.

“Nat, here wants to smoke for the first time so I figured I’d get her something fresh.”

“Oh sweet! Hey one free purple flurp joint on the house just for you. Welcome to the stoner life.” The brunette laughed, handing Natasha a small plastic tube. “Wouldn’t open that until you're ready to smoke.” She turned away from you both as she set the suitcase on the coffee table.

“Thank you.” Natasha smiled.

“Of course! How’s life in suburbia going for ya dawgman?” Ilana asked.

“Lovin’ it so far.”

“I don’t think I could ever leave the city.” Ilana says in thought as you pick out a few items.

“I’ll take this.” You say taking out your phone to send her money.

“Awesome my dudes I’d offer for you to stay and smoke with me but she’s not ready for the big dawgs yet.” Ilana laughed along with you.

You both say goodbye and you're out the door.

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“Okay so if we’re gonna do this we’re gonna do this right.” You grinned at Natasha setting the goods and snacks down before moving the cushions off the sofa.

“What are you-“

“Trust me you’re not gonna be able to walk after this.”

“That’s what she said.” She smirked, leaning against the back of the couch.

You laughed, throwing your head back. Natasha grabs the other side of the sheet and helps you make a bed.

“I take it you and Quinn do this often?” She asks as you throw the pillows on the bed.

“Every once in a while.” You shrug.

“Oh by the way, where are the girls?”

“They’re at a sleepover at Morgan’s.”

“Oh right I did hear Lila talking about it yesterday.”

“Alright this movie is perfect for high times.” You grinned lifting up Fast Times at Ridgemont High.

You slip the dvd in and light up the joint Ilana gave Nat. You look at the snacks on the bed, the tray of water and other drinks. You inhale getting it to the sweet spot.

“Alright gingersnap you ready?” You smile lazily holding out the joint.

She nods, taking the joint.

“Slowly inhale and hold it for as long as you can.”

Natasha began inhaling and lasted all but 15 seconds before she began coughing. You took the joint as she keeled over coughing in her arm.

“Oh my God! My throat is burning.”

You hand her a bottle of water and she takes a few gulps. She inhaled and sighed, laying against the upright pillows.

“How ya feelin’?”

“Like I’m floating on a cloud.” She smiled lazily.

“Nice.” You chuckled, grabbing the remote and starting the movie as you took another drag. You reached over, handing it back to Nat.

30 minutes later

“How are you feeling?” You asked with a side grin.

“Did you say something?” Nat asks softly, turning her head towards you. Her eyes were glassy and red.

“I asked how you’re feeling?” You laughed.

“I’m good. Pretty snacky actually.” She smiled bashfully.

You point towards the snacks.

“I recommend you start with sour sweet tarts and work your way up to the chips. Ooooor just throw caution to the wind and I can make us Mac & Cheese bites.”

“But then you’ll have to leave.” Natasha Furrowed her brow.

“It’ll take like 10 minutes.” You chuckled.

“I can’t follow you if something happens.”

“What’s going to happen, stony bologna?”

She shrugged truthfully she just didn’t want you to leave her.

“I’ll be back after I pop them in the air fryer.” You grinned, booping her nose.

You were turning on the air fryer when Ilana sent your money back to you with a note saying.

DUDE, I HAD NO IDEA PLEASE DON'T HATE ME AFTER I TELL YOU THIS. QUINN CAME BY-

“Oh shit.” You sighed, you really didn’t want to finish reading the note.

AND I TOLD HER YOU WERE HERE WITH NAT. SHE LOST IT-“

2 New Messages

You sigh looking at a new message from your wife.

“You’re smoking with her in our home? Something special we do together?!”

You sigh, placing your phone back in your short pocket. Before taking the mac and cheese bites out for you and Nat.

“There you are.” She smiled.

“I’m back.” You grin sitting down on the bed. “Alright Nat try these out!”

She takes it dipping it in some ranch.

“Holy mother of- My sister is going to freak out when she tries these.”

You chuckled while eating as you watched the movie.

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“Okay how do you feel and what did you think?”

“I definitely didn’t enjoy the paranoia or the anxiety, but on the other hand you also calmed me down. I’ve never laughed so hard in my life. Also the food oh my gosh. I kind of wanna know how caviar tastes after.”

“You’re boujee as hell.” You chuckled, making her laugh. “So how are things with Bruce? haven’t seen him since Tony’s kickback.” You remark.

“Oh he’s here just holed up in his lab at Stark Industries.”

“Ah.” You nod.

“I’ve noticed Quinn’s been coming home a little later.”

“Yeah she said she’ll make a better effort to work from home.”

“Did I see you teaching Beth how to play guitar the other day?”

“Yeah she said she’s ready to learn. So I’ve been teaching her and Quinn’s been teaching her piano.”

“You guys have a piano?” She furrowed her brows.

“Yeah Quinn’s mother gave her their family mini grand piano.

“Okay play me something.”

“Like what?”

“Something that you wanna play.”

“Wanna sing with me?”

“What song are you going to play?”

“How about a little U2?” You grinned as you began strumming your guitar Natasha smiled instantly knowing the song.

“I have climbed highest mountains”

Natasha blushed when your head popped up in surprise. You didn’t know what to expect but her voice sounds like velvet.

“I have run through the fields

Only to be with you”

You couldn't help but stare at her as she sang. She was so alluring. She’s a siren and you’re the sailor falling into the depths of the sea.

“Only to be with you, but I still haven't found what I'm looking for”

She kinked her brow with a small smirk signaling you to join in.

“I have run

I have crawled

I have scaled these city walls

These city walls

Only to be with you

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for”

“But I still haven't found what I'm looking for”

“I have kissed honey lips

Felt the healing in her fingertips

It burned like fire

This burning desire”

“I have spoke with the tongue of angels

I have held the hand of a devil

It was warm in the night

I was cold as a stone

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for

I believe in the kingdom come

Then all the colors will bleed into one

Bleed into one

But yes I'm still running

You broke the bonds

And you loosed the chains

Carried the cross

Of my shame

Oh my shame

You know I believe it

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for”

“You’ve been hiding that voice Nat.” You smirked.

“So have you.” She smirked back before sitting next to you. “Teach me.”

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Natasha blinked awake hearing your muffled voice. It was dark so she couldn’t have been asleep long. She lifts her phone. It's 3 AM.

“You’re drunk.”

Natasha’s head turned towards your muffled voice. You were out on the back patio.

“Quinn, I'm not doing this with you right now.”

“Of course.” Natasha, sighed with a roll of her eyes as she sat up.

“Rachel, please make her eat something and sleep it off. I know Santana and Brittany won’t do it… Thanks.” You set your phone down and stared in silence before lifting up your guitar.

“Darling, don't you understand

That there are no winners

Metals rung from silken strands

To greet you at the finish

As we're dissolving into the sea

I can only take what I can carry

The counsel's combing through our debris

The treasures we never buried

My love, why do you run?

For my hands hold no guns

Darling, though you may pretend

Pretend that you are selfless

You break with but the slightest bend

It leaves you lost and helpless

So to whom will you place the call

In the coldest night of winter?

Cause numbers change and people fall

And friends they always splinter

My love, why do you run?

For my hands hold no guns

My love, why do you run?

For my hands hold no guns

They hold no guns

No, not a one”

You almost jump out of your skin when the door opens.

“Hey.” Natasha says softly sitting next to you.

“Hi.” You say softly, almost a whisper. You felt the Russian beauty pull you into her side holding you close.

You sighed against her, your patience was wearing thin with Quinn.

Suddenly Natasha stuffed a joint in your mouth and lit it up for you. You couldn’t help but laugh causing her to laugh too.

Your laughter faded out as you both passed a joint. Just the steady sounds of breathing and crickets.

“You know you’re pretty amazing right?” Natasha breaks the silence holding the joint for you to take.

“Stahp it.” You chuckle before inhaling. You pass it back but she shakes her head looking at you. You shrug and place it between your lips.

“You are, and your wife should count her lucky stars to call you her partner.” Your eyes widen a bit. “Or husband, or wife, I don't know what you prefer.” She mutters now a little embarrassed for having worn her heart on her sleeve.

“Thanks Nat.” You put the joint down and pull her into your side.

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Natasha was the first to fall asleep and she was the first to wake up. She blinked awake only to find your arms and legs entangled.

She could hear your soft snores against the back of her neck. She couldn’t help but smile to herself. She was totally going to tease you about that later. Is this what it feels like waking up with you? If so sign her the fuck up. She turned her head back only to feel you bring her closer; too afraid to move and wake you, she stays put. Letting herself enjoy this time with you falling back asleep.

She wakes up an hour later to the smell of bacon. She smiles smelling bacon and coffee. She sits up quietly going to the bathroom to freshen up before making her way to the kitchen.

“Good morning, starshine the Earth says hello!” You grinned, placing her breakfast on a plate and placing it on the table. You grab one of your favorite mugs and hand it to her.

“Good morning, sunshine! This all looks delicious.” She smiles, taking the mug and pouring herself some coffee.

You both sat down to eat when she spoke up a few beats later.

“Has Quinn reached out?”

“Not this morning. She’s probably still sleeping it off, or Berry is waking her up. She wakes up at the ass crack of dawn no matter what.”

“What are you going to say to her?” Natasha asks.

“Honestly I don’t know.” You sighed. “I’m hoping Santana slapped some sense into her.”

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“So…Why are you mad at Y/N again?” Santana questioned, furrowing her brow as she walked through the market isles.

“Are you kidding me? You were right there! You saw them! She kissed our neighbor.” Quinn grit arms folded as she scanned the shelves.

“Wait.” Santana stopped the cart turning back to scowl.

“You’re still upset about what happened? It was for the photoshoot Quinn! She kissed Brittany and myself as well.”

“It’s just you two, it meant nothing.”

“Exactly just like it meant nothing with Nat.”

“Not you too.” Quinn muttered looking at her best friend with betrayal.

“Oh stop it. You’re my best friend, Nat is nice and kind of a badass. Did you know she knows Krav Maga?”

“I’m so sick of her. The girls adore her, Y/N is smitten, and now she’s taking my best friend away.”

The latina walked over to her friend laying her hands on her shoulders. “You’re just feeling a little threatened. Just remember she’s just a friend, she’s married, and Y/N would never cheat on you.”

“She made out with her, Santana.”

“Quinn… you know damn well it wasn’t like that.”

“I just feel like they’re into one another.”

“You thought that about Sersi too.”

“This is different.” Quinn shook her head.

“How?” Santana rolled her eyes going back to pushing the cart. “You’ve always been overly jealous of anyone that gets close to Y/N.”

“No I don-”

Santana whipped around. “Bitch stop lying.”

“I mean I’m not like that anymore! It’s different between them, I just can't explain it.” Quinn shook her head inhaling deeply.

“Stop being paranoid Quinn, and go home to your Hife before she becomes your Wusband.”

“She’s the one that kissed her!” Quinn glared.

“For the photoshoot! My God you sound like a broken record, get over it already.” Santana stopped and turned. “I am telling you as your best friend if you keep going down this road you’re going to lose Y/N.”

Quinn gulped watching her best friend walk away.

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“It's so beautiful out today.” Natasha smiles as a butterfly lands on the kitchen window.

“Yeah it is.” You grinned wiping your hands on the dish towel before handing it to Natasha.

“Wanna go for a ride?” She smirked at you.

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“No, no, no, not again.” Natasha huffs trying to turn on her bike. She rolled her eyes she just wanted to go for a ride with you. Her legs begin dragging herself over to your house. She knows what she’s starting to feel is getting borderline dangerous. Ever since the kiss you shared. Natasha has not stopped thinking about it and you. The way your hands gripped her hips, the way your tongue out of habit lightly tapped against her lips. She has this urge to see you, to spend time with you, to get to know you. The Russian beauty wasn’t even aware she knocked until you opened the door.

“Hey.” You grinned toothbrush in your mouth,still wearing boxer briefs and a tank. “Am I late?”

“I probably should have just texted you.” Natasha mutters looking at your body.

You shook your head waving her concerns away.

Natasha can’t help but look you up and down subtly. She ached at the sight of your bulge, even flaccid it’s still big. Oh how she longed to feel you stretch her out. How can one look this sexy wearing briefs and a tank? She swore she could see your abs through that white tank.

“Come on in.” You mumbled beneath the toothbrush. “I’m just gonna.” She watches you rush upstairs letting the breath she’s been holding out.

She’s internally giving herself a speech about backing off, and remembering you two are only friends. You’re married. She’s brought back when you call out her name.

“Ready?” You grinned coming down the stairs in the same tank, but with jeans on this time.

“My bike is acting up, but-“

“I’ll look at it.” You winked as you put your shoes on.

You both make your way outside.

“So what’s wrong with my side piece?” You smirked lightly, running a few fingers down the back.

“Side piece?” She snorted at you.

“Yeah since Quinn hates me on these things and I can’t have one.”

Natasha stared at you brows furrowed before shaking her head chuckling.

“So what’s wrong with her?” You asked, opening the cover of the engine.

“I’m not too sure.”

“Okay well I just need to sex her up a bit figure out where she’s hurting?”

“Sex her up?” She smirked once again, furrowing her eyebrows at you.

“Yeah you know.” You gripped the back of the bike lining it up with your pelvis before you thrusted.

“Oh my God.” Natasha muttered rolling her eyes at you.

“Give her a little caress here a rub here.” You acted as if you were making love to the motorcycle.

“Wha- what is this?” Suddenly Tony Stark was right next to you.

You and Nat began laughing hysterically.

“Y/N was just-“

“Trying to make her purr.” You winked at the older man who began laughing as well.

“I like the way you think, Y/N.” Tony chuckled, leaning over to see the engine as well.

“Where are my girls?” You asked

“They’re all having a Crash Bandicoot marathon.” He waved you off.

Soon you were both looking at the bike when you announced its diagnosis. Tony looked a little surprised he didn’t even notice the tiny crack on her fuel pump.

“Great.” Natasha sighed.

“Hey, come on now gingersnap, cheer up, I can fix it.” You chuckled taking it apart.

Tony’s brows raised at the pink hue that appeared on the Russians cheeks.

“You’ve got welding supplies, and Nat’s not murdering you right now for calling her that?” Tony looked shocked.

You grinned not looking at either of them, but at the part as you cleaned it with a rag. “I’ll be back in 10.” You look up seeing Tony still flabbergasted, and your neighbor rolling her eyes at him.

“Can I join you?” Tony asked suddenly.

“We.” Natasha corrected him.

“Sure.” You chuckled leading them to your backyard shed.

“You garden too?” Tony raised his brow.

“It’s relaxing and I like watching them grow.” You shrugged. “Plus it helps me spend time with my kids.”

You set up your equipment and set your gloves and mask on before starting.

“Okay I get it now.” Tony nudges Natasha.

“What do you mean?” She asks, not wanting to take her eyes off your muscles as you fix something for her. God she really wishes Tony wasn’t here, and you’d just hoist her up on your bench, and fuck the living daylights out of her. She wants to be completely ruined by you.

“You didn’t come to me cause you want the new resident hottie to fix it. Hurts my ego a bit, but I totally get it now.”

“Shut up. She’s closer and doesn’t annoy me the way you do.” She smirked.

“Hmhm sure.” He chuckled. “You know I thought Wanda was just exaggerating.”

“Stop.”

“I get it she’s a smoke show. The total package. Especially when compared to Bruce.”

“There is no comparison.”

“You’re right it wouldn’t be fair. Y/N is miles ahead.” He smirked at her. She had yet to peel her eyes off of you. “Speaking of Bruce he… talk with you yet?”

“You keep asking me that. What is he supposed to talk to me about?” She says turning towards him wondering if he’d tell her.

“Just about his trip.” Tony said, looking away from her to you as you continued welding.

“Just said it went well.” She shrugged.

“Hmm, I’m sure it did.” He muttered, crossing his arms.

“Alright let’s put this bad girl on.” You grinned, taking off your mask and gloves.

“Bruce, mentioned you were supposed to go to MIT. What happened?!” Tony asked suddenly

“I don’t know man, I had a list of extracurriculars, my own father was an alumnus. Really thought I was a shoo in, but I guess not.” You shrugged as you all walked back to Natasha’s bike.

“Your father went? What’s his name?” He asked.

“He goes by Frank Y/L/N.” You kinked your brow.

“Frankie Y/L/N is your father?” He stopped you.

“Yeah.” You chuckled.

“Hold on.” He sprinted across the street.

“Uhh where is he going? Should I follow him?”

“Nope but you can fix my bike.” Natasha smirked.

“Brat.” You chuckled going back to the task at hand.

“Ugh, I am not a brat.” She huffed.

“Ehh.” You made a face.

“Ass.” She laughed, shoving your shoulder.

“Now you’re a brat and a half.”

“You did not just call me that.” She glared remembering her first encounter with you when you called your wife a brat and a half.

“Oh I think I just did and oh here it comes again brat and a half!” You smirked.

“I hate you.” She grumbled, biting her lip to keep from smiling.

“No you don’t.” You grinned.

“I don’t.” She shook her head.

Tony ran up just as you finished reinstalling her fuel pump.

“Oh well look at that I finished it while you were off at home.” You chuckled standing up.

“Look at this.” He ignored your comment, shoving a photo in your hands.

“That’s my pops.” You chuckled seeing a younger version of your father's arm around Tony’s neck. “You went to school with my dad?”

“I did.” He chuckled. “Your old man was very smart, very cool, and had a mean left hook. Our fraternity would go out and watch your father beat someone’s ass every Friday night.”

“It was how he paid for everything that his scholarship wouldn’t cover.” You explained staring at your father.

“Y/N, I’m not trying to upset you, but there’s no way you would have been rejected.”

“Well I was.” You said coldly.

Tony just didn’t understand how someone like you would get rejected. Tony and his father were board members; there's no way they would have rejected you, especially with your fathers name on the application.

“What did they tell you? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“That I just wasn’t what they wanted. I didn’t have the grades or the wherewithal.”

“Well I’m sorry you didn’t get to go, but I could really use someone of your caliber at my company. I hate talking about business and semantics.” He handed you a card with Peppers name on it. “Please call Peps when you get a chance. I need you on my team and if you don’t call I’ll have her call you. Anyway I better get going. Pepper wants me to grab dinner before she gets home. Oh we got your invitation to Finley’s birthday. We’ll be there!” He said walking backwards before turning and running across the street.

“Wow, you just got a job without doing anything.” Natasha grinned.

“I don’t know.” You say uneasy.

“What do you mean? You love building things Y/N. This is it! You’d get to work with other engineers and build stuff that could make a difference.”

“But what about the kids?” You say.

“Well you said school starts soon.”

“For Beth not Fin.”

“I can help.” Natasha shrugged. “I love that little girl, I wouldn't mind.”

“What about Quinn?”

“What about her?”

“She has a full time job she-“

“Y/N, I’m saying this as your friend, stop finding excuses. This is your dream and it’s actually happening. Quinn will just have to step it up because if she truly loves you she'll do anything to help you succeed. Just like you did with her.”

“I take back my brat and a half comment.” You say with a small smile.

“Yeah you better.” She chuckled, as you brought her in a hug.

“Thanks Nat, you’re right. Where have you been all my life?” You grinned, she was beginning to be your constant voice of reason.

Waiting for you to find me. Natasha thought to herself instead she settled with a bashful shrug.

“So will you tell Quinn and call Pepper?” Natasha raised her brow.

“I will.” You nodded.

Natasha cheered, throwing her arms up and bringing you in a hug. After a moment she pulled back a bit, arms still dangling from your neck.

“Come on, let's go on a ride to celebrate.” She grinned before getting on the bike. You placed your helmet on before getting behind her.

⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗

“Oh shit.” Natasha muttered.

“What? Oh. Shit.” You repeated as she stopped the bike in the driveway

The ride was just what you both needed; however you did not expect to see your wife standing with her arms folded on the patio.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #quinn fabray x reader #quinn fabray x y/n #avenger lane

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betaloserkris · 1 year

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I'm in pain and happy at the same time. Pain because my wife now almost officially belongs to another man and happy because my wife is happy. At the beginning of February it was my wife's birthday and I threw her a big party where her parents and my parents and our friends were invited. She also invited her boyfriend and his parents. Of course they were together all evening kissing and cuddling in public and everyone could see the big love between them. Some of our friends knew that my wife had a boyfriend and that they were in love and together. But it was a surprise for some of our friends. By the end of the night, everyone said my wife and her boyfriend were the perfect couple and they were a perfect match. Even my parents said they were a beautiful couple. My wife and her boyfriend left the party together and of course everyone knew they were going to spend the night together and have sex. One of my friends told me that I should be happy that my wife has such a nice boyfriend and I replied that I am very happy. I saw my wife two days later when she came home and was tired and happy and said it was a wonderful weekend. She said that they had sex all weekend and that she loves her boyfriend so much. I watched her sleep and cried because I knew I would lose her but at the same time I was so happy for her because she is a wonderful woman and deserves the best man. Last week my wife said that she is planning to spend Valentine's Day with her boyfriend of course, but I am also invited to a small Valentine's Day party with their parents and some close friends. Of course, I understood what kind of party it was and it hurt me so much, but I looked at my beautiful wife and said that I will definitely be there. Yesterday was that day and that party. My wife and her parents. My wife's boyfriend with his parents. Some of their closest friends who were once our friends. And I - alone… The room was beautifully and romantically decorated - lots of red roses and heart-shaped balloons, etc. My wife looked gorgeous and happy and excited. And then it happened… My wife's boyfriend got down on one knee in front of my wife, held out a ring to her and asked her to be his wife, and my wife said "YES!". Everyone applauded and cheered and my wife fell into her boyfriend's arms and they kissed for a long time and now my wife is officially engaged to her boyfriend and the wedding should be next summer… I cried from extreme pain and great happiness because I love my wife so much . And then they left but before that my wife came to me and said "Don't be sad honey try to be happy with me. We're going on a trip now and I'll be back in two weeks and then we'll discuss our divorce and your future role in our lives. Maybe we'll have I need a babysitter soon and you would be perfect for that." This means they are trying to get my wife pregnant during the trip…

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hellbeast-go-walkies · 5 months

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Eddie loves Richie: a bullet-point essay

(Combination of my thoughts and others' posts)

Ben/Richie are successful and living alone, while Bev/Eddie are in unhappy/abusive relationships with someone who resembles their parent.

Richie and Eddie also parallel the gay couple at the beginning of the film, where the asthmatic one is killed.

Eddie tries to avoid telling his wife he loves her.

Eddie gets defensive about his marriage (even before Richie says, "What, like to a woman?") in a way he doesn't about his job or mom.

He believes Richie when he says he got married. Bev rolls her eyes and says, "There's no way Trashmouth is married," but Eddie just says (in the tiniest voice), "When?"

"LET'S TAKE OUR SHIRTS OFF AND KISS."

Eddie triumphantly says, "I fucking knew it!" when Richie says he doesn't write his own material--when the only material we see is Richie talking about having a girlfriend.

Resident germaphobe Eddie Kaspbrak removes his shower cap just because Richie thinks it's stupid.

The hammock scene.

The shorts with the little rainbow stripes.

He and Richie are the only two Losers to come back to the hotel after getting their tokens, refuse to tell anyone what happened, and slink off to their rooms.

Both Eddie and Richie encounter Pennywise holding balloons making the shape of an inverted triangle, a symbol used to denote gay men in concentration camps.

Richie and Eddie encounter a scary door with a closet inside. If we were only supposed to see Richie as gay (and in the closet), you'd have him in this scene alone, but they're both present.

Eddie's the only one of the Losers obsessing over AIDS. He's also confronted by a leper, another highly stigmatized disease.

"But he married a woman!" So did Elton John. THEY MAKE MISTAKES.

#it 2017 #it 2019 #eddie kaspbrak #reddie #i'll probably add more later #and maybe some sources #hey guys i learned how to make bullet points on tumblr

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trashmouth-richie · 1 year

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Hi baby baby <3 How about a nice lil fluffy piece about Eddie surprising girlfriend/wife reader deciding that he wants a baby? Like she wants to be a mom, but he's so scared to be a dad, and she doesn't want to push him because of his own issues with his dad. But he realizes how much he wants a little family with her and decides to tell her. xoxo -@munson-blurbs 💚

Thank you lovely for the request @munson-blurbs ❤️‍🔥❤️ hope I did it some justice 🫣

Eddie x fem!reader

You wouldn’t think that Eddie the Freak Munson would wait for anything. Diving head first from one extreme to the next judging by his hair, the way he dressed and the disaster of a van he drove in highschool. The man child wreaked havoc wherever he went. But the one thing he kept safe? His heart. He had no experience when it came to love. Watching his dad hit his mom and then Eddie himself, scared him to death. He was afraid of continuing the trend, being the apple that didn’t fall far from the same tree. So back in freshman year when you started flirting with him in detention, he didn’t know how to handle it. He looked like he was fresh out of the psych ward in the growing out phase of a buzz cut. You were prettier than any girl he had laid eyes on. He was all too awkward in his too small jeans and one of Wayne’s flannels, he had scribbled the nails on his left hand black with a sharpie to see if it was metal or not. Turns out the thing it was— was not coming off. Your giggle pulled him in like a boat lost at sea. But even then, even with all those teenage hormones raging through his body, he kept his distance, protecting his heart from himself.

Fast forward 2 years 55 days and 4 hours, Eddie is driving you home from another long and drawn out campaign. Ever since you joined Hellfire, Eddie had created more and more elaborate campaigns stretching over two days a week and lasting all semester long. He couldn’t help it, he knew it was selfish of him to just want to see you for a few minutes more, see you laugh with the boys after Gareth or Jeff made a stupid joke. Batting your eyelashes up at him as he delivered his grand speech about the reign of whatever cultists he had studied over for the past few months. It was selfish of him to think about you not only during hellfire but after when he was home late and night and he couldn’t sleep. He peeled a glance over at you and his face turned crimson when you were watching him. Pulling along the street in front of your house, Eddie fumbles with the gear shift and turns to you, you smile warmly at him, giving him the universal look of ‘please kiss me’.

Eddie’s palms were sticky with sweat, he liked you and deep down felt as if you always liked him, but he didn’t want to hurt you. He wasn’t sure if whatever made his dad an absolute prick was genetic or not. He almost didn’t do it, almost didn’t lean in the 10% of effort after you put forth 90%. But when he finally did, your sweet lips felt like what he imagined heaven to be. And he was hooked. Still worried about his heart, he didn’t know how to love anyone but damn he sure would learn for you.

4 years, 30 days, and 18 hours later: he spent hours setting everything up. With the help of the Hellfire boys, Steve, and Robin, Eddie had small tea light candles set up along the sand of Lover’s Lake. Corroded Coffin was set up along the dock ready to play the song Eddie had written for you. Robin had taken you for a “girls day” getting your nails done and shopping all day at the mall. Steve arrived with his car full of red shiny balloons, and a single foil one in the shape of a heart. Eddie’s thumb was burnt and red from lighting and relighting the small candles shaping them into the letters to spell out ‘MARRY ME?’ on the damp sand. Steve had tried his damndest to tame Eddie’s wild mane and perfect the curls. He gave him a dark button up shirt and lent him some shiny shoes. Eddie refused to change out of his tattered jeans, claiming he wouldn’t feel like himself without them.

The ring was burning a hole in the pocket. He wasn’t even sure if you would say yes, let alone if his heart would be able to handle the rejection. But according to Steve, “dude she’s been in love with you since we were like 14, she’s going to say yes, stop over thinking shit because your dad is a jerk.”

But still the thought of his dad being an abusive piece of shit plagued his mind. What if he got mad and hit you? What if he started drinking heavily and couldn’t stop? The thoughts ran around his mind like marbles, knocking into one another noisily. A few months before, Eddie had confronted Wayne about you, spilling out his nervous worries and practically shouting as his anxiety peaked.

“Calm down Eddie, the only thing you share with your daddy is the last name. You’ve never been like him, not one single minute of your life. Now if this is what is holding you back from marrying that girl— don’t let it.” Wayne was always for the short and to the point answers. After that Eddie saved up for the perfect ring, a gold band with a single diamond.

And of course, you had said yes.

2 years, 99 days and 3 hours later: you had been dropping subtle hints about wanting to start a family for months. Every single trip to Steve and Nancy’s, has you smiling for days after watching their little kids run wild. Eddie was scared shitless of their kids, opting not to hold them because he didn’t know what he was doing. Even with Steve shoving the toddler in his face, Eddie’s palms began to sweat. He loved watching them play, but didn’t want to accidentally hurt them. “When is it going to be your turn?” Nancy says motioning to you and Eddie.

You smiled widely at him and Eddie just shrugged. His mind running a thousand miles a second. Truth is, he wasn’t sure if he could open the book to parenting without feeling like a complete and utter failure. His parents failed so why wouldn’t he?

Late one night after listening to Eddie read from ‘The Lord of the Rings’ you’d begun to cry.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?”

You shake your head as you turn away from him. It was stupid to be crying about something so silly but you couldn’t stop. Since you laid eyes on Eddie you wanted every single part of him. Now with a ring on your finger and a year of marriage you wanted the rest, you wanted a baby of your own. A little boy with Eddie’s curly hair or a little girl with Eddie’s big brown eyes. You didn’t care. As long as the baby was healthy and Eddie’s.

“Babe, please talk to me.” Eddie cooed as he rubbed your back.

“I’m fine, honey, let’s just go to bed.”

The next few nights Eddie has nightmares of babies. There are so many of them and they’re all crying and he doesn’t know what to do. Everywhere he turns there are more and more of them. Taunting him. He wakes, a sweaty mess, hair matted to his neck. It was clear to him that you wanted to have a baby, the way your eyes sparkled whenever you held Nancy and Steve’s youngest little nugget, made his heart soar. You would be the best mother, he was sure of that. But him? There was no way. But then again, Wayne stepped up to be a dad to him and was the best father figure he could ever ask for. If Wayne could do it, and do it well, so could Eddie. He didn’t know why he doubted himself so much, he had proven himself to be a worthy enough man by being married to you and being faithful, he held a steady job at the mechanic shop in town and still played with Corroded Coffin on Friday nights. He was a good man. He broke the Munson curse. Now all he had to do was tell you that he was ready. Ready to be a dad.

2 weeks, 1 day and 7 hrs later: Eddie is giddier than normal. Practically bouncing around the trailer all afternoon. He’s got something special planned for you tonight and is waiting for the right moment. After eating take out from Enzo’s and watching your favorite movie, Eddie asks if you want him to read to you. You nod your sleepy head and curl up on the bed with him as Eddie reaches below the mattress to get his very worn copy of ‘The Lord of the Rings’. Instead he pulls out a new copy of ‘The Poky Little Puppy’.

Your eyebrows raise as you look up at him.

“So I’ve been thinking, and you know me, I don’t do that often,” he jokes, you let out a little laugh and pinch his arm, “oww okay okay! I was just thinking that, with Jeff moving away to live with Sara on the East Coast, Corroded Coffin is going to need a new member… and instead of me doing auditions and finding some helpless sack to fill his position, what if we made one instead.”

“I love you so much baby girl, you’re going to be the best mommy a kid could ever ask for… so do you wanna try for a little Munson?”

You squeal as the tears start streaming down your face. Eddie is also crying as he holds you tight.

“You mean it!? Eddie seriously?! You want to try for a baby?” You ask as you wipe your tears with the sleeve of your shirt.

“As long as we don’t name the baby some asshole name like Jason or Tiffany!” Eddie says.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #stranger things x y/n #eddie munson angst #steve harrington #eddie munson fluff #mechanic!eddie #eddie munson lemon

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alkali1 · 1 year

Text

Exercise

They called it Indefinite Pregnancy Syndrome. A side effect of the extreme, experimental fertility treatments you had used after years of failing to conceive. Some women were pregnant for an extra few weeks, others spent 20 years carrying their broods before birthing children the size of full grown adults. There was no way of knowing how long it would be, all you and your wife could do was stay prepared for the day labor would finally come.

It had been several years since she blew past her original due date, and her big brood now kept her bedbound almost all the time. It had been years since she had been unable to walk unaided. A series of increasingly elaborate mobility aids, wheelchairs, and walkers had kept her somewhat mobile for a couple years, but now the ceiling-mounted harness system in your house was her only hope for getting out of bed.

It was so time consuming and effortful to put on that it was now only used for her daily exercise routine. Though the types and amount of physical activity she could do were severely curtailed by the hundreds of pounds of fat, fluid, and baby weight bloating up her short body, it was important for her to do as much as she could for her own health and the health of the brood, as well as to keep her body prepared for birth, whenever it may come.

You start the long ordeal of strapping her baby-ballooned body into the harness. She tries her best to help position herself but it's a struggle for her to move her heaving bump even an inch without support. Eventually you get her strapped in. You notice that it's probably time to start getting a larger harness built; her belly is squeezed in there tight and her baby fat bulges beyond the straps around her butt, thighs, and back. You heave her county-fair pumpkin sized boobs into the inbuilt bra attachment and stuff it with several milk pads for her near-constant leakage.

The harness whirrs loudly as it begins to lift her up from the bed. When it reaches a comfortable height you step behind her, steadying her by her waist and shoulders, and she slowly rises to her feet. She whimpers and moans in pain and discomfort from the unimaginable pressure of a kindergartener-sized head rammed against her unyielding cervix.

You support your body gently and slowly waddle her to the living room. She can barely see over her massive breasts so you guide her over to her peanut-shaped yoga ball. She straddles it and you gently lower her down so she's sitting on it, while the harness retains enough weight that she doesn't pop it. Her extremely wide hips and wobbling, cellulite-bloated ass cheeks nearly dwarf the yoga ball in size. She gently starts bouncing, hoping the repetitive motions will stimulate her contractions.

She softly moans as she bounces, turned on by her swollen pussy rubbing against the ball. She hasn't been able to reach past her wrecking-ball womb and colossal ass in years, and all the hormones combined with the intense pressure make her extremely needy. She grinds desperately into the ball, her pillowy butt cheeks jiggling violently within the confines of her tight red yoga pants.

Eventually she tires herself out. She's panting and covered in sweat, babies kicking uncomfortably at her ribs, stomach, and spine. You gently wipe the sweat from her forehead and kiss her on the cheek. It drives you crazy to see her like this, pushing her horribly overdue body to the limit, desperately trying to pleasure herself and induce labor.

You lift up her belly with the harness and move the yoga ball away. It's time for her squat routine. You crouch down behind her, pressing your hands deep into her huge, soft mommy butt to support her strained hips. She carefully squats down as you lower her belly along with her. She reaches the nadir of her squat and summons all her strength to lift herself, grunting deeply as you press against her fat hips in support. She repeats this several more times, but on the final rep her overtaxed yoga pants finally give out, splitting at the seams straight down the middle, exposing her pale cellulite and stretched out maternity panties. She huffs and puffs, too exhausted and embarrassed to heft her massive body back up. You can see how soaked they are, not just from sweat but from her own pleasure. You can't help but grab her soft flesh and kiss her exposed cellulite playfully. She grinds her fertile hips back against you and begs you to go further. You dive in, spreading her butt wide and teasing her wet, quivering pussy through her panties.

After a few minutes she's close to cumming. She begs for you to penetrate her, and you oblige, rolling her on top of her loveseat-sized belly and pulling her panties to the side. You grab huge handfuls of butt fat and spread her as wide as you can, forcing the rip in her leggings wider. You push in and start thrusting away hard, making her quiver and moan. She always wants it rough and intense, hoping that it will induce her long-awaited labor. You grab her long, sweaty blonde hair with one hand, pulling her head up out of its resting place in her bulging cleavage, and slap her ass hard with the other. You slap her again and again, leaving angry pink handprints on her delicate ass flesh. She's overcome with pleasure, squeezing her tits hard enough for milk to flood the pads and stain the bra attachment.

You talk dirty to her about how huge she is, how unbelievably fat and swollen, how utterly helpless and immobile she is. She loves it more than anything when you call attention to her overly pregnant body. After a few minutes you can tell she's close to orgasm. You pull her fat hips as close against you as you can, thrusting deep enough to touch her swollen, impenetrable cervix. It's enough to push her over the edge, and you soon follow, blasting ropes into her tight pregnant cunt while she screams loudly in ecstasy.

You each just sit there for several minutes, sweaty bodies pressed together, breathing deeply from exertion. When she's recovered enough to stand you tear off the remnants of her inadequate yoga pants and hoist her belly to the ceiling. You waddle her back to the bedroom, lie her down and remove the harness, gently rubbing the spots where the tight straps left marks on her skin. Your wife, utterly spent, goes down for a nap almost immediately, and you spoon up against her soft backside and join her.

#pregnant #hyperpregnancy #overdue pregnancy #pregnant fantasy #pregnant fiction

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gucciwins · 2 years

Note

bel and harry in venice???? 🫶

okay, because i love you here's a bit of the red carpet

(this is in relation to my story love on tour)

______

79th Annual Venice International Film Festival

The red carpet and all who walk are where the attention is, and today we'll be speaking about what we see for the premiere of Don't Worry Darling. We will discuss who's here, what they're wearing, and all the hot gossip. All around, cameras are scattered around, an endless amount of cameras, and the cheers only seem to be getting louder the more guests we see enter. It all goes by smoothly, and honestly, everyone is waiting for the stars of the night, Florence Pugh and Harry Styles.

The crowd is wild, and we know it has to do with a particular pop star walking down soon. Harry Styles is set to walk alone, bringing his team with him to support. Let's hope he stops for an interview. The biggest question we all want to be answered is if he and Y/N Belmonte are still dating. We have stopped seeing them together, no more visits at love on tour, and for Belmonte's red carpet, she's been wearing Valentino, not Gucci, for which Harry is the face.

First of the cast to walk the red carpet is Director Wilde in a bright yellow dress, sure to capture everyone's attention. As she wants to be seen as the start tonight. Followed right after by Gemma Chan and Chris Pine, who make quite the duo, these two have been fan favorites as they are husband and wife on-screen and here in Venice show a united front.

There are shouts of their names as they greet fans and walk to the end of the carpet, awaiting the rest of the cast to arrive for photos.

Familiar faces cross our path as Nick Kroll, and Lily Kwong walk the carpet hand in hand. Kwong stuns in a purple dress while Kroll wears a blue suit. His wife was shining brighter than him on the carpet.

Up next is the man everyone has been waiting for, Harry Styles. He is wearing a custom Gucci look featuring a deep blue double-breasted suit and a long sleeve shirt with an oversized collar. He has on Gucci square sunglasses from his HA HA HA collection set to launch next month. He did not come to play. Also, he arrived alone, even though we all know Ms. Belmonte has been at the event for the past few days. The fans go crazy as Harry goes up to them; quick photos and signatures are enough to keep them cheering. There's nothing like Harry Styles fans who are dedicated and always ready to support him in all he does.

The star of Don't Worry Darling, Florence Pugh, is wearing a Valentino dress made for a leading lady. She poses on the red carpet in a shimmery creation featuring voluminous balloon-styles sleeves and a stunning split front. The sheer overlay is scattered with round, star-shaped silver sequins finished in a sweeping train. She wore her hair in a simple, slicked-back wave, and honestly can, she hand over her stylist's number because she indeed was a dream. She accessorized her glam gown with black heels featuring a bow at the ankle, and dramatic feather trims up her leg.

Making a late arrival is Y/N Belmonte, and honestly, it's clear why she's so loved. She walks with grace, a timid smile on her face as fans begin to wave. The cast sends her a wave as she goes to greet fans instead of interrupting the cast photo taking place. The cameras follow her every move, trying to look at her stunning outfits. She's wearing Christian Dior, a tight fitting black suit with silver embellishment that make her look like she’s shining. It’s closed with a diamond broach showing just enough cleavage for a red carpet It's clear she held back because of her three red-carpet looks. This might not be my favorite. But of course, she was the leading lady for those two premieres and is now here to support the cast.

As the wonderful cast breaks away, the cast mingles together, hugging and taking photos. While Belmonte didn't linger long to have her photo taken, she did make her way over to Florence Pugh, who welcomed her in a warm embrace. The two ladies have acted alongside each other in Little Women and have competed for similar roles, but it's clear their friendship remains strong.

Styles and Belmonte don't cross paths, but her stare lingers on him for a second when Styles turns and meets her eye. It's clear by the tension that something has happened. Let's hope we find out.

Belmonte walks off after chatting with Chris Pine, who she allowed to take a photo of her. She moves to the edge, and right as the camera turns away, we see her approach Harry's team, who all look dapper and full of smiles in support of Styles. She hugs them all individually, all of them beginning to talk at once, trying to get her attention. She's good friends with them all.

Our attention stays locked on her as someone from Styles' team takes her hand and has them twirl for her. They seem to love the outfit just as much as we do.

The stars are heading in, and we have not one interaction with Harry and Y/N.

The camera zooms in as Harry walks toward his friends, including Belmonte. He comes from behind and rests a hand on the small of her back; when she turns, the smile she gives him is bright. He whispers something causing her to nod and lean into his arms, wrapping him in a hug. Their friends have their phones pointed at them, taking photo after photo just as the fans and photographers seem to be doing.

A security guard comes for Harry, and before he leaves, he leans in to give Y/N a quick kiss, which leaves us shocked but allows us to confirm that Harry and Y/N are still going strong despite all the tabloids.

Safe to assume that we'll be seeing a lot more of our favorite couple later tonight.

#harry styles #don't worry darling #harry style x reader #love on tour series #harry x bel #love on tour nyc #venice film festival #enjoy amores

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oneshotnewbie · 1 year

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Can I request something fluffy with Wanda? I so not have a plot in mind but maybe something where Reader wants to propose to Wanda but has no clue how?

Summary: You confess to Natasha that you want to propose to Wanda, but you're clueless how; you want something special but not tacky.

---

"What do you think of a romantic hot air balloon proposal? Or you bribe a pilot who writes 'Marry me' in the sky with his plane?" Natasha stirred her latte as she pushed the burgundy box in her hands across the small table. "I think that would leave her speechless!"

With a quick and skillful hand movement, you snatched the ring and buried it deep in your coat pocket; fearfully looking around to make sure that your hopefully soon wife didn´t suddenly appear behind you.

She´s always had a talent for showing up at those moments when she really shouldn´t.

"But I don´t want her to be speechless, ´tasha." you replied, looking utterly distressed as you threw yourself back into your chair. You nervously ran your index finger over a torn cuticle on your thumb as you gazed around paranoid, admiring the splendor of the newly renovated cafe. "I want her to say yes after all."

You caught a deep laugh from your best friend, which made you frown slightly annoyed. You just wanted someone who would tell you in no uncertain terms what to do, but Natasha wasn´t much of a help.

"Quit fiddling with your fingers, Y/n. It´s interfering with my train of thought." ordered the redhead and only got a big sigh from you. You nodded and looked at the tabletop as if it held the answer to all the questions that were swirling around in your head- stopping the fiddling and instead discovering a napkin on the table with your hands that you could crumple up to let off frustration.

"Please tell me you got something?" you asked, tilting your head as you watched her pull a strand of hair from her forehead, hoping she finally had something plausible for you. You pushed yourself to the table, resting your elbows on it as you took a long gulp of your still hot latte.

And while you burned your tongue, it hit you- the perfect idea of how to ask the crucial question.

"I got it! I have the perfect idea! Thanks ´tasha." you quickly got up from your seat and grabbed your walled to pay the bill. You put the money next to Natasha´s cup, turned on the spot to approach her, gave her a short hug and ran to the exit.

"You are welcome!" the redhead looked after you satisfied and happy. She watched a guest hold the door open for you and you saying thank you politely before disappearing from her view shortly after.

---

With a racing heart and sweaty fingers, you were walking down the beach with Wanda, where she had asked you if you would like to be her girlfriend. That day was already six years ago and you could still remember it like it was yesterday.

The sun was low and dyed the sky in the most beautiful colors at sunset. Her then ginger hair blew in the light breeze of the evening and her eyes shone with the view of the wide ocean. The beautiful white dress that almost reached her knees, fitted her shape perfectly.

Like now.

To create a parallel, you asked her to wear the same dress; you knew it was still hanging in her closet. Mainly because it held memories of you and the beginning of an beautiful love. Only that today should end differently than the day you had in mind- more beautiful, more important, more meaningful.

A nudge from the left pushed you unnoticed into the cold water and you startled out of your thought loop. Wriggling your bare feet and wanting to quickly escape from the water, you watched Wanda grinning at you from ear to ear while playing with the sand between her toes. "Look, babe, there is a message in a bottle!"

She let go of your sweaty hand almost immediately and walked towards the bottle, which wasn´t entirely coincidentally lying there. You placed it a few hours ago on this spot, digging the bottom of the bottle firmly into the sand so the approaching water wouldn´t sweep it away and shatter your plan.

Wanda took one look around and let her magic flow by pulling the glass bottle up and removing the cork from it with a simple movement of her hand. A small piece of paper fell onto her hand and the bottle was dropped by the red strings coming out of her hands. When she opened the note, only one thing was written on it: Will you marry me?"

Her head cocked questioningly to the side while her two thumbs wandered over the old looking but perfectly creased paper and traced the well-known hand writing. Her eyebrows furrowed over her eyes and a small but wide smile formed on her lips. "Wanda, I loved you before I even knew you."

"What do you mean?"

"Before we met, every time I listened to a love song or planned my future or dreamed about being happy, you were there." you started rambling nervously, your hands shaking and your throat tightening like someone was choking you. But eventually, you managed to swallow the huge lump in your throat and moved on. "Blurry and undefined, but there. My heart has always had a space for you. I love you, Wands."

At that moment, you got on your knee and finally asked Wanda again in your own voice. "Would you like to marry me and be my wife?" "Yes, Y/n, yes. Of course I want to marry you. There is nothing I would love to do more!" she exclaimed excitedly and unceremoniously threw her arms around your neck. You leaned back a little and looked at her with bright, shining eyes.

"Are you serious? You want to be my wife?" you asked her; Wanda´s eyes boring into you. "Yes," she breathed happily and kissed your lips. "You are my life. There is nothing that would make me happier. You make being alive so easy."

A big smile spread across your face and you kissed her again. Your lips rested on hers, not reluctantly but urgently. Your heart was racing with happiness and all you could thing about was this perfect moment.

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