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#have you guys ever thought that he might have good handwriting?

dailypenpen · 5 months

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What do Genshin Men think of with you in their arms? (pt. 2)

characters: Alhaitham, Wriothesley, and Childe

notes: overworked reader (Alhaitham). gn reader, only you pronouns used.

a/n: hello hi um make sure to like and subscribe!! Thank you all for your nice comments on my previous post :) this might not be as good as the prev one 🙇

HERE'S PART 1

Alhaitham thinks you're quite the unique person. You're on the verge of sleep, yet you insist on fighting the urge to shut your eyes. You try, and fail, to rub it out. Your pen is gripped loosely in your hands, your handwriting starting to appear like gibberish.

Alhaitham frowns at your actions, observing you with lidded eyes. Why are you so persistent in keeping yourself awake? Don't you realize that your body is already telling you that it wants to retire right now? He wonders if you got any sleep last night, with how your head is drooping so much. His eyebrows knit together in worry at your state.

You aren't even listening to him anymore, brushing it off with something along the lines of you're not tired. Your lies aren't backed up properly, Alhaitham points out, with how much you're yawning. You groan, now moving to ignore him completely. Your writing is now incomprehensible. You almost planted your face on your papers.

Well, drastic times call for drastic measures. You are in mighty need of a nap.

He grabs you by the shoulders, much like a mother cat with its kitten. He drags you away to the couch with ease. Your sleepy protests are left unheard as he gently sets you down onto the cushions. The moment your body feels the softness of it, your face melts with satisfaction. Alhaitham sighs, sitting next to you. He reaches for your head, letting it lean against his shoulders as the two of you relax.

He glances at you, your tired eyes finally closed. He looks down at your hands and intertwines them with his own. The corner of his lips turned up at the soft sight of it. Who would have thought that someone like him would end up with someone like you? It's puzzling, really. But he chooses not to question it, settling on focusing on you.

Alhaitham presses a soft kiss on your head, his other hand running through your hair. He takes in your features, taking in the ethereal beauty that your entire being exudes. He leans in close, wanting to look at you even more clearly. Tracing the curves of your face, studying it with precision. His eyes trained to look at every part of your face that he deems the most wonderful piece of art his eyes ever laid on. Beating even Kaveh's best work, he muses to himself.

You stir, blinking awake your eyes in hopes that you can catch a peek of him. You try to subtly glance at him but you didn't expect him to look at you like that. To look at you with such softness, with such fondness. With such great intent, great purpose. You can feel your cheeks flush at his heavy gaze. Like by just looking at you, he might find all the answers he seeks.

"Take your rest now, sunshine. You deserve it."

Wriothesley thinks that he is one damn lucky guy. The two of you decided to go on a much needed date after not seeing each other for so long. You wanted to go to this one restaurant, fancy decorations and equally fancy food to be paired with a lovely night together. Of course, who was he to say no to you? He missed spoiling you, hugging you, giving you all the love you rightfully deserve. But work had made both of you busy, so it's no wonder why he immediately jumped to the offer of a date.

He leans against a building near the restaurant, occasionally looking at his pocket watch. He's wearing something more formal, yet still so distinctively him. Wriothesley tugs on his tie, Sigewinne must have tied it a bit too tight for his own liking. It takes half a mind for him to resist the urge to loosen it.

He glances at the people around him, whispering amongst themselves. He knows that some people are looking at him with surprise. The Duke, out in public? Not on official business? He smirks at the thought of their potential questions. The people here can't live without their gossip, can they?

Your voice suddenly calls out for him, Wriothesley instantly perking up. You're running towards him, a huge smile on your face. He opens his arms wide, and you take the cue to jump forwards. He doesn't so much as stumble when you both collide against one another. He wraps his arms around you, taking in your scent and warmth.

At this very moment, he thinks that all is finally well in this world.

You're almost floating off the ground, with Wriothesley lifting you up so that your face is close to his. Your huge grin from before is still present, your hands moving to cup both of his cheeks. He softens instantly, akin to a dog receiving pats from their owner. You could almost see a tail tagging from behind him.

He thinks you look absolutely gorgeous— almost ravishing if anything. You don't often wear clothes like this, but when you do he just relishes in it. He preps kisses on the palms of your hands, smile softening as he hears you chuckle at his actions. He sets you down, not before staring deep into your eyes and leaning ever so closely. He whispers to you, intending that you and only you can hear his proclamation of love. That only you can know about what he truly thinks of you.

"Sweetheart, do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"

Childe thinks he might be in heaven. The two of you just finished a round of sparring with one another, covered in sweat and grim from it. He sighs in satisfaction, knowing that you beat him this time. He'd want nothing more than to shout out to the skies that he lost against his lover. Childe is proud that he lost, because it was against you. He'd be ok with losing, if it was you who was winning.

You lazily lean against his back, gasping for air. You wipe your sweat with your shirt as it hurriedly drips to the ground. All the while Childe is starring intently at you. You don't even notice the way he's looking at you, eyes focused on your exhausted figure. He whistles lowly, eyes glinting with a plan.

Who was he to deny himself of this opportunity?

Before you know it, you feel a weight on your back and you somehow manage not to fall under it. You screech in surprise, turning your head to look at Childe with wide eyes. You try to shake him off you but he's persistent in staying put. He only grins at you, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling your neck. He doesn't care that he's sweaty or that you are too. All he wants right now is to be close to you, even if both of you are filthy and in desperate need for a bath.

You eventually give up, grumbling under your breath. Your hand unconsciously moves to his hair, ruffling it to get the dirt out. He hums in glee, eyes closed and hands tightening around you more. Childe wishes to stay like this forever but he knows that you'll immediately protest to his suggestion. What a bummer, he thinks to himself. You are much too comfortable to let go of. If he had it his way, he would have brought you both to the ground. That way, you won't be able to escape his hugs.

He kisses your cheek, reluctantly releasing you from his embrace. You turn to look at him, wanting to scold him. And dread goes to your face once you look at his playful face. What was he thinking this time? Surely he wouldn't want to spar again? Childe laughs at your expression, and he can almost hear what you're thinking. Really, can you blame him? You give him so much joy and happiness! Who was Childe if he wasn't going to chase that high?

Plus, it's you. He'll never get tired of you, no matter what you both do.

"C'mon babe, you can't be tired already! Come at me!"

Please consider liking and reblogging!!

#I was struggling help KSNIABEJS #al haitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham fluff #al haitham fluff #alhaitham #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley x you #childe x reader #childe x you #childe fluff #childe #tartaglia #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #penguin writings!!

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sourpatchys · 8 months

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Daryl Dixon Headcannons

Sfw❤️ nsfw❤️‍🔥

The NSFW content is targeted towards an AFAB reader (like myself) however, I’d be happy to do an AMAB version if anyone is interested!

❤️.

Daryl is always watching you. The guys favorite hobby is just being able to see you in his field of vision.

He definitely doesn’t show public displays of affection, PDA is not something he’s comfortable with, and if you were to kiss him in front of a bunch of people he might even get a little upset, simply because he doesn’t want to share that part of himself with anyone but you.

However! He doesn’t hold back when it comes to hand holding. This guy loves feeling your touch and being able to physically hold you in a way that tells him you’re safe.

Usually he just wraps his pinky around yours, if he does full on hold your hand it’s almost always accompanied by two squeezes that mean “I love you”.

That’s usually how he tells you he loves you, he’s not super emotionally available, two squeezes is all it takes. On your arm, your leg, hand, even the top of your head on a few occasions.

He did NOT ask you to be his. Absolutely not. You just kinda were one day.

Back at the prison when he and Merle had come back, Merle made a pass at you and Daryl told him to leave “his girl alone”.

You didn’t object, and that’s how it became official.

That’s not to say Daryl can’t be romantic. He definitely can be when he wants to.

He’s constantly leaving you flowers he finds that remind him of you, and sometimes he even scribbles down a note telling you why.

You always have to be comfortable. If it were up to him you’d live on a cloud.

When you two are alone he finds himself mindlessly running his fingers through your hair, it always calms him down.

And yes, he secretly loves it when you do it back.

It’s actually not secret at all.

You two will argue. He’s a gruff guy and you can be stubborn.

He has a hard time apologizing to you, he hates that he even has to. It can take days before you guys are on speaking terms again.

If you’re the one who has to apologize, you’re pretty quick with it once you can tell he’s ready for it. He’s not a super forgiving guy, but when it comes to you, he always hears you out once it’s over and done with.

Contrary to popular belief he won’t ever stop you from doing something you want to do. Even if it is dangerous.

He trusts you more than life itself. And if you think you can do it, he’s going to be your biggest supporter— but that’s not to say he won’t try to go with you.

He is a jealous guy though. He has a hard time believing he deserves you sometimes, so if someone looks at you wrong or gets too close, he’s quick to shut that shit down.

Negative thoughts are usually what causes the most issues between the two of you. He tries to run away from you a lot, and you refuse to let him.

He was never big on writing much of anything until you two got a little more serious. He had all these thoughts and feelings but he was afraid to tell you out loud, so he started writing little bits and pieces and leaving them in your stuff for you to find.

You love how scrawly his handwriting is.

It took you a good few minutes to even be able to read it the first few times, but eventually it came to you like second nature.

Sometimes you leave notes for him too, you know how private he is, so notes are the best way for you to tell him you love him.

He keeps the first note you ever wrote him on his person at all times. Seeing the words “I love you” written down in your handwriting never fails to keep him going, especially when he has to be apart from you.

Daryl Dixon is a bed hog.

Once he got comfortable sleeping with you, he started sprawling out like a starfish.

He refuses to admit it. He actually tried to convince you that you were the bed hog instead.

You learned to love it after a while.

❤️‍🔥.

Sex was not something that came naturally to Daryl. As crazy as he was before the world fell apart, he was never actually sober for any of his flings, one night stands or short term relationships.

He basically learned everything from scratch with you.

He NEVER initiated sex. Maybe he’d touch your arm or grab your thigh in a suggestive way to try and get the ball rolling, but he absolutely refused to do anything if you didn’t catch the hint.

Daryl, is in fact, a boob and thigh man. Regardless of how big or small your breast and thighs are, he can’t stop himself from staring.

When you ride him it’s like his brain turns to mush. He completely forgets how to act.

When you’d suggested it he almost dismissed you, no WAY was he going to enjoy being pinned down like that.

But oh boy did he.

Sometimes, when the two of you were alone, he felt like a teenager again. It kinda pissed him off how wrapped around your finger he actually was. He’d never felt this, undying attraction towards anyone before.

He’s not vocal during sex at all, maybe some grunts here and there— he finds the noises embarrassing.

If you’re making a lot of noise he also gets embarrassed from that.

“Shut the hell up, woman!”

Recently he’s just started putting his hand over your mouth instinctively.

You do in fact make the noises just to have a laugh, you think it’s adorable when he’s embarrassed, and you don’t get to see it very often.

He absolutely loves going down on you, the feeling of your thighs around his head and the sight of your breasts going up and down with each breath you take really gets him going.

Obviously running around during an apocalypse doesn’t exactly leave much room for deodorant and regular showers.

He’s very embarrassed about it— and will NEVER admit it out loud— but he’s really attracted to your natural scent.

So the lack of personal hygiene will never make him stop wanting you. If anything it makes him want you more.

That’s not to say seeing you cleaned up isn’t a turn on though. That first night in Alexandria when you got all cleaned and dressed up borderline has him in his knees.

He’s a gentle lover— unless you ask him not to be.

He’s aware that he’s a pretty strong guy, and he knows his limits. But if you’re into being pounded like no tomorrow— he won’t turn you down.

It might take awhile for him to get used to the idea, but seeing how absolutely crazy you get takes all his concern out of the window.

He does NOT have a daddy kink.

If you have past experiences he wants to hear about them.

Because of how jealous he is, he needs to know how you were treated before so he can make sure he doesn’t better.

His goal in life is to keep you alive— and make sure you never want another man ever again.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #twd daryl #twd #daryl dixon headcanon

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ghouljams · 4 months

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hi!! helloo!!! you're writing is simply AMAZING and i LOVE the way you headcannon the guys!!!

i just had a quick coupla thots and i wanted to share them so i hope this makes sense!!

the first thing i thought of when reading "a letter from your future husband" was johnnys reaction to a return letter

maybe it's too much wine and dancing after a party, maybe it's just too stiflingly hot watching other people in the castle, maybe it's a particularly scandalous letter and reader is just feeling impulsive, but when johnny gets his hands on that letter? by GOD he's drooling and tenting his pants and booking it to his chambers because he won't let anyone else in the castle look at your handwriting before he gets the chance to

when johnny finally sees your handwriting? he's hooked. when he actually READS it? he's FERAL. one of the first lines is something like "I am very thankful for the instructions in your letters, without them, I would have never known personal pleasure before we are officially wed" he nearly cums in his pants but is also SO UPSET that he didn't get to see your corruption in real time- he'd foam at the mouth the first time he sets his eyes on you

you can barely make out the writing in the letter he sends back, because he starts writing it the second he cums all over his hands after reading your letter to him

(ps- have a good day!!)

Soap getting a letter in return?? Oh my.... Well he'd certainly have trouble controlling himself with it.

It's truly unfortunate that he had to rush back home to Scotland without you, his poor bride sitting, wasting away without him in (ugh) England, but certain matters had arisen that needed his attention, his in-person attention. Nothing that would prevent him from writing you though. He's tugging his riding gloves off when the butler hands him a letter with your pretty red seal. Soap takes in a sharp breath through his nose. You only write him when you are truly mad, sending him the sorts of letters that make him sure it isn't anger that guides your hand. The sort of letters he'll punish you for when he sees you next.

He takes it to his room. Cracking the wax seal and palming himself through his trousers at the first glimpse of your neat loops. He hums to himself, bringing the letter to his nose, smelling your soft perfume with a smile. Christ he misses you, sweet thing that you are trying to scare him off. He knows you want nothing more than to melt for him.

"You are a wicked and horrible man," You tell him in your opening line and Soap thinks about digging his teeth into your neck, marking you where someone proper might see, "Never in my life has a man talked to me like you do. I don't even know if I can call you a man, an animal is more appropriate. You do nothing but attempt to lead me to ruin. God only knows the thoughts that you inspire in me, and he will surely condemn me for them.

'Don't call me 'wife' as if that absolves you of the sin you send me. Though I suppose I should thank you for one thing; now that I know I can pleasure myself I have no need for you. You're free to move on to your next plaything and have fun tormenting her. I will welcome the reprieve from your letters."

Soap smiles to himself, he can almost hear your pouting. As if he'd ever want anyone else. Poor thing, who told you you weren't enough for him? It certainly wasn't Soap. It's good knowing you're touching yourself to his letters. He pauses, smells the letter again, imagines he can smell the wetness on your fingers when you wrote it. Naughty thing, did you roll off the bed just to talk to him?

"How would you like receiving obscene letters? No love in them, no politeness or care. You hardly treat me like a woman set to be your wife. If you can't say you love me, why should I do the same? You only want to talk about sex, fine.

'It is unbearable to have you in my thoughts. I never know if I'm upset or pleased, but my skin grows hot and my shift sticks to me. I can't think of anything but your awful letters and your stupid smile and every other terrible part of you. I lay awake at night with my hand between my legs because you have encouraged, no, insisted on such debauchery. I am utterly ruined because of you and I know it must only bring you pleasure to hear that. So stroke your cock to whatever you like, only think of me while you do it.

Imagine me like I imagine you, think of my fingers and my mouth and [scribbled out] Why do your letters make me feel like this, why do they make my heart pound? What power do you have that makes me keep them? Why do I miss you when I despise you so? Why did you have to leave me, I'm sor

I wish I wasn't thinking of you."

Oh, his sweet lass. He kisses your signature, pulls his aching cock free of his pants and groans. He shouldn't have been so cruel to you, poor thing. Of course you're upset, he left you all alone and is teasing you so terribly. Fuck he loves how passionate you are, how your handwriting grows sloppy before you cross it out; loves the slight discoloration to the paper beside the edge of your text where the paper dried.

You are the object of all his desires and yet you write to him like he could have anyone else. He could. He wants you. Wants you in every way he can have you.

Soap strokes his cock and reaches for a pen.

"You think I don't imagine you in every way I could? Your fingers wrapped around my cock, your lips against my throat, your voice in my ear? Do I need to show you for you to believe me?"

He already knows. The next time he sees you, he'll take your hand and place it right where it should be.

"It's just you my bonnie wife, it's only ever been you."

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish smut #soap mactavish x reader #soap call of duty #soap x reader #soap mw2 #soap cod #regency au #courting letters #sort of

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neerons · 1 month

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Some of Nokto Klein’s best quotes

“You smell so good, as usual. Good enough to eat.” (—Nokto’s thoughts about Emma)

“I wanted to take her back to my room right then and there and slowly, leisurely lavish her with pleasure until she lay exhausted in my bed (...)” (—Nokto’s thoughts about Emma)

“Don't you think you ought to get some sort of reward for all that pain?” (—Nokto to Licht)

“A long, long time ago, you protected me. Don't you think it's my turn to protect you now?” (—Nokto to Licht)

“I already knew this about me, but... you're quite the schemer too, aren't you?”

"You really think it's fine to be brutally honest about everything and anything, don't you?"

“Deciphering cryptograms is outside my realm of expertise. That guy has absolutely terrible handwriting. It's so bad that he can't even read it himself once he's written it.” (—Nokto talking about Clavis to Emma)

“Oh it’s nothing. My only regret is that I didn’t sock the man.” (—Nokto talking about a random man to Emma)

"I love you. I want to hug you, and kiss you, and ruin you in bed."

"(...) I think your strong point is how short you are, Evie. (...) It's touching to think that you're still expecting a growth spurt, despite being older than me." (—Nokto to Yves)

"You've been avoiding Licht, right? He's really down in the dumps about it, you know. You're not trying to friendzone him, are you?" (—Nokto to Emma in Licht’s story event)

"Not only is she quite the bookworm, she also used to work at a bookstore. I'm willing to bet that you'll never even read half the titles that she has. You couldn't ever keep up with her." (—Nokto talking about Emma to a random man)

“You're so pretty, but you ruin it by pulling those grumpy faces all the time.”

"Well, I guess that explains why a woman as pretty as you is still single."

"You know, I think I like this whole waking up with you at my side thing."

"I happened to be talking to Licht, and he asked me about it, so I did a little investigating. Just because." (—Nokto talking about doing Licht a favor to Leon and Emma)

"And here I was, hoping for a chance to experience the famous Belle slap that so impressed Sariel."

"Hey, what would you do if both Licht and I tried to court you at the same time? Who would you choose?"

"I'll stay close to you and make sure you don't get involved with any bad guys. As bad guy number one, I know all the signs, after all."

"Emma is more precious to me than anything else in the world, and I love her from the bottom of my heart." (—Nokto's thoughts)

"I mean, you not only waited for me, you readied a place for me to come home to. You're the perfect woman for me."

"Given the situation, I'm at a loss, really. I can't decide whether I want Emma or the throne." (—Nokto to Sariel)

"(...) There you were, looking like you were having far more fun with my brothers than you've had with me in ages— When for me, nobody satisfies this loneliness but you."

"It's a fresh look for you. I like it. And you did it so beautifully, too. (...) King Highness? How did he end up doing that?" (—Nokto complimenting Emma's hairstyle done by Chevalier, in Chevalier's route)

"I’m not sure if you realize, but Licht is totally stone-faced whenever you’re not around." (—Nokto in Licht’s event story)

"As far as I'm concerned, we could just forget about going outside and jump into bed right now. But I know how much you want to go to the carnival. We've come all the way here, so why don't we have some fun?"

"Saying such sweet things, and in such a sexy outfit too... how could I not want you?"

"Sorry to interrupt, but you might want to close your eyes for a second. (…) Of course I saw it coming. That’s why I didn’t warn you. (…) See, this is the best part about coming to the beach. Here you are, dripping wet and sexier than ever, and there’s nothing to stop us from doing this. (…) You look absolutely ravishing." (—Nokto hiding an upcoming ocean wave from Emma)

"I have to make sure I treat you right. Otherwise, you might leave me for someone else."

"(…) You always look gorgeous, but tonight… you’re utterly irresistible. I want to take my time, slowly ravishing every inch of you."

#will update later #nokto klein #cybird #otome game #ikémen prince #ikemen series #ikeprince #quotes

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0-hoony · 4 months

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OK! [or, group projects w riize]

pairing : ot7 x reader! genre : fluff with crack delicately lined in cw/tw : food mention + use of caps wc : idk ,,

shotaro ,. ! - the mood maker!! - is the person who Socializes, helps to coordinate between the members, makes the gc, arranges meet-ups; just overall supportive and cheerful even if your team is doing literally nothing and is very likely about to get an F (D:) - shows up w like cut fruits for everyone, goes on coffee runs + writes encouraging lil messages on sticky notes and leaves them around/in notebooks etc etc - also x2 i see him as someone who like,... doodles on your people’s hands :( draws a smol star and writes something adorably cringe like “ur my star ^-^”

eunseok ,. ! - he’s the type of guy who’d take charge and delegate work to everyone; to put it simply : BOSSY AF. dare i say dictator coded even, but hey, he just wants this to get over with yk?? - bit scary to work w at first but when if he warms up to you he might would definitely indulge in a lot of partiality; assign you the easier tasks/the tasks that you prefer + if someone pisses him off he would, w the nicest sweetest smile ever, assign them the worst possible task.. - can be bribed if you offer to help w his work though sooo :) do w that what you will :)

sungchan ,. ! - trust on me this, he’d be the one who’s always “busy” except in his case he probably fr is bc my guy is just into That Many extra curriculars - you call him up like hey where are you we’re supposed to meet at *insert name* coffee shop rn?? and he’d answer w all seriousness that his “rap music club members have a mandatory team exercise for which they’ve gone fishing and after he needs to prepare an ad for the video game club because he kinda insulted the ad making team and now they’re all on strike . oh and he has football coaching (as in he needs to coach like a bunch of tiny kindergarteners as a favor to some aunt) right in between!” - he’ll send all his work at like 4am tho dw ^^ sleep is for the weak.

wonbin ,. ! -perfectionist!!! he would be The aesthetic stationery + supplies guy with like pouches and pouches of pretty washi tapes, metallic coloured calligraphy pens, stickers and much more - would definitely call out people if their handwriting was bad.. - also he would totally use the project as an excuse to get to know whoever he’s interested in~ might offer to split the work into like duos and immediately choose you as his partner~ - prepare yourself for a lot of really obvious and goofy flirting..

seunghan ,. ! - ah yes the wise guy (genuine) (no why does he fr know everything about Everything) - puts out the most thought provoking, viewpoint shaking, world stopping arguments then half-slumps over the table and or rests his entire weight to lean on you and mumbles something about wanting to watch shin-chan >< he’s versatile (read : cute) like that - also would quite honestly go along w any idea no matter how bad it is <3 + seems super calm and composed but watch him be the most excited when taro suggests some team bonding at an arcade/festival :( <3

sohee ,. ! - he gives me manages stuff best under high pressure situations - if you’re freaking out about one of your teammates cough cough you can guess who it was having fumbled up and accidentally written down the wrong date and oh no your project is due tomorrow?! don’t worry! he’s got this :D - procrastinator at heart but for the right persuasion tactics done by ahem a certain someone (it’s you) he’d probably give it his all <;3 - also he’s an enabler at heart.. supports the ideas which he knows are going to be a trainwreck just for funsies

anton ,. ! - :(( he is Doing His Best okay - gets a bit overwhelmed due to the rising panic and chaos + leads to people being very partial to him but honestly yk he deserves it <3 - also a rich guy tm, would definitely ahem ahem pull some strings to get some extra fine quality materials~ - feel like he’d be good at research work + another 4am worker would definitely pester you to join zoom calls or ft you and be like hey!! look at this!! i did this!! is it good!! - as an excuse to show off to yuo splurges a lot for an end of the project celebration for sure

notes : inspired by very very real life events (wrote this in a zoom meet w my current group proj members ehe)! if you know me irl and feel like these are based off of you.. they're not!! you're simply hallucinating!!!! <333 + [m.list]

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blue-thief · 3 months

Note

do you perhaps have some headcanons about mr. isagi? <3

OFC!! <3333

on top of having 2.0 vision (and well, metavision) his VVIQ score is a perfect 5

this helps him a lot with art and he's actually pretty good at it even though he's not as passionate about it as he is with football/soccer

he started drawing through doodling his favourite manga characters and he's able to recreate art styles almost perfectly

he's actually pretty careless when it comes to his schoolwork (esp for STEM) so sometimes he'll hand in incomplete work bc it looks like he's already filled in certain questions

like no. you doodled an eye instead of solving for "x"

he canonically hates science, but if he had to choose one branch as his favourite, it would be chemistry (not boring & derivative memorization like bio but not absolutely insane like physics)

something might contradict this in canon but i hc his handwriting is pretty shitty lmao

since so many sports anime characters look like him (nanase haruka, kageyama tobio, etc) i like to pretend they're all cousins and they meet up at family reunions to compete to see who's better at their respective sport

so yeah despite having no siblings he has a shit ton of cousins who he's really close to

he was conceived by accident 💀 his parents love and coddle him despite this

despite showing the exact opposite of the typical symptoms (great spacial awareness, scarily good empathy, etc) i still say he's got autism lmao. he just has a really unique type yk

his hobby is canonically walking, but i wanna expand on this a little bit

he somehow doesn't listen to music on his walks

(in fact, he doesn't listen to much music at all. that's why his fav song is from a commercial 💀)

furthermore, he rarely ever brings his phone out on walks at all. he likes being at one with his surroundings and he doesn't want his phone to distract him

which is understandable. unless we're talking about how he'll sometimes walk 2+ hours to go to a friends house AND HE DOESN'T HAVE IT?? NO GPS??? NO MAP NOTHING

he's just spent so much time walking around saitama he has a map of most of it installed in his mind

he really doesn't use his phone much at all. he has a few accounts in case he wants to check something out, but he doesn't post anything + barely follows anyone + even has a blank pfp on everything

he apparently received 0 valentine's chocolates in the previous year, but a few ppl from school had a crush on him

he's not popular or anything but some ppl over the years thought he was a genuinely sweet guy and quietly observed him from a distance

he's completely oblivious to this

his school friends all have way more romantic experience than him and they all tease him for this

he gets really frustrated about this and tries to convince himself he likes certain ppl in hopes of something sticking

when he genuinely likes someone he's oblivious to this too lmaoo

he's the type of guy to take dodgeball in PE wayyy too seriously

the first time he swore was when he was eight and got mad at his teammates for slacking off

he got in trouble for this and never swore in front of an adult ever again

(the lack of any physical adults in blue lock made him fall back on his foul mouth)

his fav class is PE in canon but i think i remember something about isagi hating baseball? that might have just been someone else's hc but yeah

he enjoys basketball and badminton, but he thinks volleyball is mid

the one time his school tried floor hockey he enjoyed it well enough

american football is just way too confusing for him

he had no backup plans in case football/soccer didn't work out, but he'd be fantastic in psychology and/or politics

#i got more thoughts but i forgor 💀#blue lock #bllk #asks #isagi yoichi #yoichi isagi #bllk isagi #bllk isagi yoichi #bllk yoichi isagi

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spoonsock · 11 months

Text

Starbucks love

Gwen Stacy x reader

Synopsis: Ever wondered what would the one and only Spider Gwen order from Starbucks? Me neither but take this anyway.

Warnings: Idk none I think. Not proofread. Writing this at 2am no joke what is wrong with me. Also DUDE. This is kinda similar to Intruder like wtf am I really that not creative. 😭

Also, fun fact, I’ve never been to Starbucks so if I got something wrong pls lemme know.

You didn’t really mind having a part time job at Starbucks. It wasn’t that bad. All you had to do was take orders, make them, write names on cups with your best handwriting. Sometimes kick customers out. Sometimes maybe serve Spider-woman.

Yup that’s right. It all started yesterday.

It was supposed to be a normal day. You clocked in early and mentally prepared yourself for what awaits you ‘cause you never know what might happen. God, what a good decision it was to say a few positive words before the day started.

Around 10 AM, the shop is not even that filled with people yet, three guys barge in, all of them with a gun in their hands. One of them points the gun at you and then at the register, while the other two guys walk around the people sitting at their tables.

“You empty that thing right now or Imma blow your brains out”. The guy says pointing a gun at your face and you freeze. You don’t move an inch, just stare right at him. Your eyes are not wide, you are not hyperventilating or anything. You are panicking, but not showing any signs of it.

The more you stare at the guy, the more impatient he grows. “What are you? Deaf? I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t take the damn money out this fucking moment”.

As soon as he finishes his sentence, the door of the shop slams open and (literally) twirling in comes, the one and only, Spider-woman. The armed men immediately turn to her and point their guns, but she slouches and puts her hands on her hips, looking at them unfazed.

“Seriously, you guys aren’t gonna make this easy for me, are you?”, Gwen asks and receives no answer. “…Alright then”

Before you can even blink, she hits one of the guys in the face, grabbing his gun and throwing it at the other guy. You watch as the the third guy tries to throw a punch at her face but narrowly misses and she succeeds to grab his arm and twist it, before kicking him in the stomach. She easily webs all three of the unconscious men up and the people from the shop clap. She bows jokingly and makes her way over to you.

“Hey, you okay? They didn’t take any money, did they?”, she asks but you are unable to answer. When the masked guy pointed the gun at your face, it triggered something in you. Pushed an “off” button in your brain and turned everything into blurry stop-motion pictures.

For the record, you’ve never been held at gunpoint. Well, until that day, but you hoped it was the first and last time. You didn’t know why it caused you to act like that. To just freeze and zone out. I mean any normal person would start sweating and fearing for their life, visibly shaking or something but you? It turned you off.

Whatever. Whatever it was, you zoned back into reality when you saw a white hand move in front of your face.

“Helloooo? Earth to..”, Gwen stopped and squinted to read from your name tag. “Y/N? Earth to Y/N! You there?”

You quickly took in your surroundings before pulling yourself together and nodding. “Yeah yeah, I’m. I’m fine. Everything is fine. Thank you. For helping. And for asking. I’m fine”, you stumbled across your words and even behind her mask, you could see Spider-woman hesitantly furrowing her brows at you. She didn’t believe you, obviously. You were a terrible liar.

“Riiiighht, well I’m gonna go then”, she stretched out her words before slowly turning around, picking the masked, armed guys off of the floor and exiting the shop.

Honestly, you thought that was going to be your last encounter, but oh boy, you were wrong.

Because she came back in the very next day.

“Oh, hello?”

“Hi”

“I didn’t really see any thieves or villains in our shop today, but uh, how may I help you?”, you ask, unsure of what was she here for, kinda scared that something bad might happen soon and she’s just there to try to prevent it.

“Uhhh actually I came to see you. A-and to get a vanilla latte. And a chocolate chip cookie. But I’m mostly here to see you”, you felt your cheeks heat up at her words. The famous friendly neighbourhood superhero, Spider-woman, came in Starbucks in which you worked just to see you. Strange.

“Um. Okay.”, you didn’t really know what to say to that. What do you even say in a situation like that??

“Soo, hi. Are you okay? You uh didn’t really look the best yesterday? I-I mean you can’t really look the best after being held at gunpoint anyway. Not that you look bad! You don’t! It’s just that, it must have been traumatic, obviously. Not just for you, I guess for everyone in the shop but-“

“I’m okay”, you decided to stop her rambling. “Thanks for checking”, you gave her a shy smile and she smiled back, you guess, but didn’t say anything. You two just stood there, in comfortable silence, until someone coughed behind the masked superhero and tapped their foot on the ground impatiently.

“O-oh um you uh are you going to order orrrrr….?”, you asked, remembering suddenly that you were at work. Where you are supposed to do your work.

“Oh ah yeah I-I’ll have uuuuuuuuhhh a short vanilla latte and a chocolate chip cookie. Please.”

“You’re seriously going to order the most basic white girl drink?”, you chuckled before you’re eyes widened. “NO. Please tell me I didn’t say that out loud”, you thought. But judging by the silence you were met with and the “o_0 expression” (if you could call it that) your friendly neighbor super hero held, you were wrong. “Oh fudge”, you furrowed your eyebrows before giving her the most sympathetic look you could make.

“I did not mean to say that I am SO sorry. I mean I didn’t even mean to think that it just kinda came outta nowhere, I’ve never said anything like that out loud ever. Or not out loud. I’ve never even thought something like that, honest! I seriously don’t have any idea where this came from I mean I would never ever guess your race- it’s none of my business! And it’s not like race has anything to do with the goddarn drink. It’s a drink! Anyone can order it! I have no say in that and I am SOO-“

“IT’S OKAY”, this time, Gwen interrupted your rambling (finally, it seemed like you could go on and on), “you can uhhh make up for it by, I dunno, maybe, givingmeyournumber?”, she was nervous, but you were oblivious unfortunately.

“Oh. OH YEAH I can do that..I’ll just go get your drink. And you cookie”, your ass has never left a place so fast. “SPIDER WOMAN. WANTS. MY NUMBER”, you squealed in your head while preparing her order.

You returned to her in a few minutes, a cup in one hand and a cookie in the other. “For here or do you want me to put it in a bag?”

“Can you put just the cookie in the bag?”, Gwen asked shyly and you nodded packing the cookie in the paper bag. Taking a sharpie that stood on your side of the counter, you wrote on her cup of latte “For Spidey ♡ by Y/N”, scribbling your phone number underneath and handing the bag and the cup to her.

“Thank you for your visit. Enjoy!”, you said what you always say to your customers and she jokingly gave you a two finger salute, turning around and exiting the shop.

The whole day after her visit, you’d check your phone every two seconds waiting for her text. At this point, you were already at home, watching a movie you picked out randomly to distract you from constantly glancing at your phone. Unfortunately, you were a person who constantly keeps their sound off and the movie actually intrigued you to the point you somehow forgot about the happenings of yesterday and today, at least until the movie ended.

And then it hit you.

You opened your phone to see four new notifications from unknown. FROM AN HOUR AGO.

You could barely contain your excitement. Spider woman. Asked you. For your number. She had your number. And she texted you. You have Spider woman’s number. And you’re about to answer to her texts. Holy quack.

Unknown

Today 20:14

hey, this is spider woman

wow that felt weird to write hahah

anyway thank you for the drink

and your number

You smiled at your phone. Who would’ve thought that she would be so awkward while texting.

Unbeknownst to you, an hour ago, Gwen was panicking hard. At first she didn’t know what to say. She spent 10 minutes just writing and then deleting and writing and deleting words. Eventually, she decided to muster up the courage and send whatever first came to mind.

The moment she clicked on the “send” button, she regretted it. Then she sent another message, to try to fix the situation she put herself in. Only to realize she is just digging her grave deeper. Before she knew it, she sent you four messages, then threw her phone as far away as possible without damaging it too much, to stop herself from sending another text in attempt to “fix the previous”. She grabbed her mask and pulled it over her head, hiding her face from no one in particular.

After a few minutes, she heard a ding from across the room and scrambled from her bed quickly, tangling herself in the covers, getting her leg stuck in them and managing to fall face first on the floor.

Groaning, she reached for her phone from the very position she fell into, expecting to see a text back from you.

“Iphone storage full” was the only notification she received. Gwen placed the phone to where it was, continuing to lay on her bedroom floor with her Spider mask on.

“This is going to be a long night”

#spider woman x reader #gwen stacy x reader #atsv gwen #into the spider verse #spider gwen #spider man: across the spider verse #spider woman #across the spiderverse #ghost spider #gwen stacy #reader insert #spider gwen x reader #x reader #spiderman atsv

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thepixelelf · 4 months

Note

do u know nct?? if so, jung jaehyun and cupid au?!!! if not then au where wonwoo is a regular dude and also the subject of a Prophecy against his best wishes? idk i hope these are fun!!!

I genuinely don't think I could characterize jung jaehyun if I tried... but I can do reluctant Normal Guy wonwoo!! I hope you like it :]

[mr chosen one] It's been three weeks and six days since Wonwoo met the most annoying person in the world. Three weeks and six days since Wonwoo's been able to relax. Three weeks and six days of your constant pestering.

You call yourself the oracle. Whatever the hell that means.

All Wonwoo knows is that you showed up at his workplace out of nowhere as the "social media manager". Why would a company that sells Tupperware need a social media manager? Wonwoo still doesn't know. He's pretty sure you just wormed your way in to complete your life's mission-- annoying the shit out of him.

The first day, you'd leaned into his cubicle and whispered, "Hey. You're Jeon Wonwoo, right?"

And when he hesitantly nodded, wondering how the hell you already knew his name since he was one hundred percent sure he'd have nothing to do with the company's social media, you beamed.

Smiled so bright he thought he might go blind, and said, "I knew I'd find you."

Ever since that first day, you've been telling him over and over again how he's supposed to save the world.

Step number 1: find the king -- whoever that is -- in the heart of the fire.

You haven't told him who the hell "the king" is because apparently, you don't even know. And the whole "heart of the fire" thing is fuzzy to you as well, even though you're the one who said that out loud in the first place.

Step number 2: behead the king.

Yeah. Sure.

"And where am I supposed to get the sword for that?" he asked you nonchalantly a week into your nonsense, his eyes not leaving the spreadsheet he was working on. "Amazon?"

You just shrugged. "You can get anything on Amazon."

Step number 3: bear the crown under the weight of stars.

Whatever that means.

"You can't just say no," you asserted two weeks in. "This is your fate."

"I'm good, thanks." Wonwoo poured himself a mediocre black coffee in the break room, where he'd gone in the hopes of avoiding you. He didn't offer you any.

You crossed your arms. "The world is at stake."

"If the whole world is about to explode, I'm pretty sure you've got the wrong guy."

Almost four weeks of this weirdness, and maybe Wonwoo should've gone to HR by now, but it sounds a little trivial, even to him.

Hey, HR, my coworker keeps telling me I'm part of a world-saving prophecy and is convinced I need to go on a journey. I want either for them to be fired, or a couple weeks off so I can go save the world. Thanks.

Yeah, no. Instead, Wonwoo just braces himself for another day of your pestering.

...Which doesn't happen.

At the halfway point of the first peaceful lunch break Wonwoo's had in weeks, he realizes he hasn't even caught a glimpse of you all morning. He revels in that feeling for a bit, almost embarrassingly gleeful to sit in silence and eat his cup-a-noodles.

Then the afternoon goes by, and you've still yet to meet your annoyance quota for the day.

Wonwoo is happy. Yes. This is good news.

You've finally gotten over your delusions, and he won't have to deal with you anymore.

He's poking his head in Seungkwan's cubicle before he realizes he's doing it.

"Oh, them?" Seungkwan says when Wonwoo asks about you. "They left. They told big boss man we had no reason to employ a social media manager in the first place and got themselves transferred to a sister company."

Wonwoo blinks. "What?"

"Shouldn't you already know? You guys were hanging out like every day."

After that, Wonwoo walks back to his desk in silence. Awkward silence.

Why doesn't he like the silence?

When he sits down, there's a yellow sticky note on his keyboard, which he swears wasn't there when he left.

He wouldn't recognize your handwriting, but he knows it has to be yours.

Fine. I'll behead the king myself.

Wonwoo pinches the note between his fingers, and he remembers the conversation he had with you just the day before.

"It sounds dangerous," he said, focusing on the photocopier in front of him.

"Oh, it will be." You were leaned against the doorjamb. Always close by. "You'll be dodging death at every curve in the road."

"Delightful. I think I'll sit this one out."

The note gets crumpled in Wonwoo's fist. He grabs his coat and takes swift steps toward the elevators.

"Where are you going?" Seungkwan calls out when he sees Wonwoo practically run past his cubicle.

Wonwoo presses the down button before he rethinks and moves to the doors to the stairwell. He yells back, "I have no idea!"

He really doesn't.

But you said all that stuff about fate-- if it's really meant to be him that saves the world...

His footsteps, in whichever direction, will take him to you. Through fate or whatever.

At least, he really, really hopes so.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo scenarios #jeon wonwoo x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #svt scenarios #jeon wonwoo imagines #svt x reader #svt imagines

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domxmarvel · 1 year

Text

My little mermaid

Masterlist

Pairing:Ariel x Female!Reader

Prompt: 3 The lingering question kept me up 2AM, who do you love?

A/N: This might be a one off depending on if you guys want more,I just got really inspired while watching the movie. Also the Reader is the royal librarian and a childhood of prince Eric

Word had quickly spread around the castle about the new girl,you got to hear all about her before you even made it to the library. You had been the royal librarian for years,most people didn’t understand why you chose this life,especially those who knew you before. But you knew this is what you wanted,you wanted to spend your time learning more about everything around you. The door to the library was slightly ajar which you noticed immediately,slowly opening the door you didn’t see anything there. A few steps in you saw a girl you had never seen before,looking at the globe near the table.

“Hi” You said quietly but it still made her jump “Sorry,I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Y/N,you must be the new girl” You tried to be as welcoming as possible but she didn’t say a thing,only gesturing to her neck. “You don’t speak?” She nodded,and you thought for a moment “Do you know how to write?” Her face lit up as she smiled and nodded. Leading her to the table,you sat her down,handing her a piece of paper and a quill. “Why don’t we just start with your name” Her handwriting was lovely as she wrote “Ariel,it’s beautiful” She smiled at you again,you felt your heart skip a beat when your eyes met. Dipping the quill she wrote ‘Can I ask you some questions?’ She looked really excited and you just couldn’t say no to her.

She asked several questions and you were in the library for hours answering all of them. Eventually she had asked about the kingdom and the village that was close by.

“Do you want to go see it tomorrow?” She nodded with no hesitation. You stretched out and stood up. “In that case we should get some sleep and head out tomorrow. I’ll walk you back to your room” You noticed her stumbling over her own feet so she held onto you all the way to her room. “Good night Ariel”

Thanks to some convincing Eric had someone take you and Ariel to the nearest village. The only price you had to pay was the teasing from him. “Someone likes the new girl”

“Says the one who’s looking for a mystery woman he only knows the voice of” But it was all in good fun,since you had been friends for years. In fact he was the one who got you your ‘job’ which you suspected was only so you could spend more time together.

One of the palace workers dropped you off at the nearby village,you helped her down from the carriage and you swore you saw her cheeks turn slightly red.

"I'll return at sundown to take you back to the castle" You turned around and immediately she was gone,you caught a glimpse of her as she disappeared into the crowd. The blue dress she wore helped you find her,she stood out like a beautiful shining star.

"Ariel" She stopped once you called her name,letting you run over to her. "Don't run off like that" You held her hand "I don't want to lose you in this crowd" She seemed fascinated by everything she saw,looking around and turning her head as quickly as the wind. You had to admit her fascination was rather cute,she turned to face you and caught you as you were smiling at her,she smiled back. Her attention quickly turned away from you once she heard the music coming from the fountain. Immediately running off in that direction and dragging you behind her. You danced with her until the music stopped,pulling her closer just as the music faded.

"Y/N!" The sudden call of your name made her let go and step back,letting you turn in the direction of whoever had called you.

"William" He hugged you,squeezing you tightly,to the point where you were having a hard time breathing. "Will can't breathe" He let go of you,laughing off the awkwardness of the situation.

"Sorry,I just missed you. Ever since you left for the castle I hardly seen you" He pulled you away from Ariel and turned to whisper "who's the pretty girl? You like her or something?"

"What,no it's not-"

"You should see your face. So you do like her"

"Fine,just don't"

"Don't worry I would never" For some reason you doubted that. "You should sing something for her she's guaranteed to fall for you"

"No"

"What was that song,butterfly right?" He just wouldn't stop,the music started and he immediately pulled you up on the small stage. And despite your protests you still sung,Ariel's eyes were practically attached to you,sparkling more than all the stars in the night sky. As you sang your eyes never left hers,wishing you could be standing next to her. The music ended and you walked up to her,she clapped her hands and you playfully bowed.

"I have one more,for you" She pointed towards herself "Yes you" You laughed quietly.

"All I can say is, I was enchanted to meet you

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go

I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew

I was enchanted to meet you

The lingering question kept me up

2 AM, who do you love?

I wonder 'til I'm wide awake

And now I'm pacing back and forth

Wishing you were at my door

I'd open up and you would say, "Hey"

It was enchanting to meet you

All I know is, I was enchanted to meet you"

Your eyes were attached to hers through the whole song,she smiled at you. Her expression was soft,she was looking at you like you were the only person that mattered. "This is me praying that

This was the very first page

Not where the story line ends

My thoughts will echo your name

Until I see you again

These are the words I held back

As I was leaving too soon

I was enchanted to meet you

Please don't be in love with someone else

Please don't have somebody waiting on you

Please don't be in love with someone else

Please don't have somebody waiting on you"

You walked up to her as the song ended,she clapped for you again. "Let's go,there's so much more to do and see before the sunsets"

The town square was soon empty of people as you sat on the fountain,you were exhausted. She was quick for someone who seemed to trip over her own feet,she had pretty much dragged you to every stall. She was fascinated by almost everything,even watching you peel fruit,it was absolutely adorable. Her eyes followed your every move as you peeled and cut up the mangos you bought.

"This year's mangos are even better than last year's" Her face lit up as she tried a piece. You were interrupted by one of the guards walking up to you,so he could take you back to the castle.

You walked her back to her room,slowing down your pace to spend even more time with her.

“I’ll see you in the morning,good night” Before you could turn away,she grabbed your hand,making you stop. “Is something wrong?” She seemed hesitant,but before you could say anything she kissed you. You were in shock to the point where you didn’t realize what was happening until it was over. Her expression quickly switched from happy to sad in seconds and she tried to pull away from you,but you quickly pulled her back. “Do that again” This time you kissed her back properly,your hands around her waist,pulling her closer. When you pulled away she had the biggest smile on her face,you let go of her and she gave you a small wave before walking into her room.

***

Ever since she kissed you had been spacing out,your thoughts filled with her and when you'd kiss her again. You were so distracted that you didn't even know where you were going,only snapping out of your thoughts when something fell on your head and then the ground. It was a gold seashell necklace,you quickly looked up but didn't see where it could've possibly come from. You took it back to your room so you wouldn't lose it,putting it in your desk. But when you turned to leave you heard a sound coming from it,like singing. It was lovely and unlike anything you had ever heard. A sudden knock on your door made you drop the necklace back onto the desk,and tore your attention away. Opening your door you saw Ariel smiling at you as she gave you a small wave.

"Good morning,Is there something you'd like to do today?" You asked but you could see her eyes darting to your room,looking around. She pushed you back gently and walked in,picking up the necklace and turning to you. "That,you wouldn't believe me if I told you it fell out of the sky onto my head" You laughed and so did she. What you didn't expect for her to crush it and a glowing blue orb to float back to her.

"Y/N" You froze at the sound of her voice

"Ariel,you can speak?"

"I have a lot to explain,but you need to tell me where you actually found this necklace"

"I wasn't lying,it fell on my head as I was walking through the garden"

"Y/N,sit down there's a lot I need to tell you" She explained everything from who she really was to how she ended up as a human and giving up her voice. "That's a lot to take in but thank you for telling me”

“So you don’t think I’m lying?”

“Well I just saw you regain your voice from a necklace so you being a mermaid is not as far fetched. Also” Her expression went from relaxed back to anxious before you finished your sentence “I have so many questions,what’s it like underwater? Are there more mermaids?”

“Yes,there are several kingdoms. In fact my sisters rule six of them” You traded questions back and forth,until the sunset. She rested her head on your shoulder as you answered one of her many questions,it was beautiful to see how mesmerized she was about everything. As you explained you felt the weight on your shoulder increase and turned to see her sleeping on your shoulder. Wrapping your arm around her and laying her down so her head was on your lap.

“Good night,my little mermaid”

#ariel x reader #the little mermaid x reader #the little mermaid imagine #the little mermaid fanfic #ariel x female reader #the little mermaid live action #the little mermaid 2023 #halle bailey ariel

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captainofthedauntless · 1 year

Note

Hello!! I just wanna say first I love your work and your doing amazing and if possible I'd like a to request something.

It's my birthday today, and I was wondering if you could write the bayverse tmnt boys and how they would celebrate your birthday or their birthday's if that's ok? I love you and have a great day👋

Hi lovely! Happy Birthday :] I hope it's still the right day LMAO

(Thank you BTW! You are so kind and that means a lot.)

Post-movies HCs below!

I think they all go a little apeshit for birthdays TBH. They are very aware of mortality, risking their asses all the time, and love any excuse to celebrate life.

(Since you didn't specify romantic or platonic, I'll try to do a bit of both! I think the guys would make an effort to know their brothers' partners anyway, so if you're with one they're probably all excited to celebrate with you LMAO)

Don's a sweetheart, okay? Like, to his core. He's sweet and thoughtful and caring, so if you're important to him then it's important to him that he do everything he can to make your big day as special as possible.

This guy totally keeps a list of all the things his loved ones mention through the year that might make good gifts. Things you need fixed, things you need replaced, stuff you want to do- he writes it all down (literally or mentally, I'm not sure). So when your birthday comes around, he's got ideas ready and waiting!

The remote for your TV that only works if it's held at a Very Specific Angle, with a muttered prayer and a sacrifice of chicken nuggets? Replaced, and it probably controls your lights now, too.

You mentioned your computer running slow? He gives you a very professional looking purple coupon for one free computer cleaning, courtesy of DuzMachines LLC, signed by the CEO himself, Donnie Tello. (He looks way too amused by it, honestly.)

Or your hidden passion for table tennis that you only brought up off-handedly six months prior? Well, you better be ready to stretch your wrists, because he assembled a table for it and found a net and paddles and he and Mikey have been practicing to kick your ass.

If you guys are dating, he makes absolutely sure that he gets some solo time with you, away from his family. He leaves all of his tech in the lair (except for his phone and an Absolute Emergency Only panic button, because he's been doing this "save the city" thing long enough to know that if he actually goes off without a way for his brothers to get a hold of him, he'll come back to something on fire or someone bleeding or some sort of bomb going off in Central Park) and takes you for a nice drive. You guys go out in the middle of the night when the traffic is as easy as it'll ever get, and he puts you on DJ duty, and you spend a couple hours just driving around and enjoying each other's company until you end up parked in a quiet spot and he's pulling out a cooler bag of your favorite dessert to share with you.

He stutters a little, but he tells you how much he loves you. How happy you make him. How grateful he is to get to be yours. He kisses you so sweetly that it's even better than the dessert, and when you finally break apart you're smiling and he looks absolutely lovestruck.

"I mean it, you know that?" he says softly, cupping your cheek is his hand and squeezing ever so gently. "I love you."

Leo is micro managing the shit out of his family. Every inch of the lair will be cleaned and prepped for celebrating, okay? If he sees a single pizza box out of place he will be a bitch about it.

He really, really wants to have everything perfect for you.

He's really big on meaningful gifts. He works with April to get you a nice copy of one of his favorite books and writes a heartfelt little note on the first page, wishing you a happy birthday.

Or maybe he's painstakingly curating the perfect playlist of songs that make him think of you and burning them onto a CD, writing your name on the front in that perfect handwriting of his that makes it look like he cares about each letter.

He's the one coordinating all of Mikey's big plans for your big day, too. Leo makes sure everyone's at the lair and settled on time, makes sure that every gift is accounted for and wrapped, makes sure that you know exactly what to expect so you're fully prepared when you walk in to a very happy (read: loud) family gathering.

If you're dating, it's even worse. Everything gets double and triple checked. He makes himself and everyone else a little insane.

And then you come in and grin at him and suddenly the mismatched wrapping paper and clashing bows are more charming and homey than they are frustrating.

Leo makes absolute certain that he gets you alone at the end of the night. It looks like a really natural transition to you, but you know from the big fake yawn Mikey puts on that he isn't nearly as tired as he claims- and knowing your boyfriend, you suspect he had a hand in the comfortable privacy the two of you find yourselves in.

You almost call him out on it, but he's looking at you with so much love it makes your heart ache a little, so you decide to skip the teasing. (For now.)

He gave you a gift with the rest of the group, sure, but now he digs out a cute little box. When you open it, there's a bracelet in just the right metal to contrast gorgeously with your skin, lovingly shaped and formed and perfect.

He's nervous, but it only takes you looking up at him and going "Oh, Leonardo," for him to smile at you again.

"I'm happy to make adjustments to it, if you want."

"If you think I'm letting this out of my sight long enough for that, you are spectacularly incorrect."

He chuckles, and he helps you put it on, and he presses a kiss to your forehead so tenderly you think you may melt right into the floor.

He immediately gives in to you tugging him down to kiss his lips, too.

Obviously, Mikey has exactly zero chill. He goes a lot apeshit. We're talkin' hand-painted banner with your name that goes across the entire living area, a table cloth in your favorite color, every single game and activity you have ever mentioned enjoying all stacked up nice and neat so you can pick whatever you want. You want to play Twister? You bet, baby- he'll even go easy on you. More of a Charades person? He's rounding up the whole crew to play, and Splinter is damn good at it. Mario Kart? You get first dibs on characters and cars. (He will not go easy on you, though. He has a reputation to protect, birthday or not.)

Do not get me started on food.

This guy goes ham. April gets a novel-length shopping list, with your favorite snacks and all the ingredients for your favorite meal and your favorite dessert and he's making mixed drinks that have edible glitter in them. Booze optional- he's a mocktail master, alright?

Leo happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when Mikey does a test run of your meal. Leo proceeds to be stuck because Mike needs a taste tester, and "C'mon, Leo, it's gotta be perfect!", and "No no, just one more tweak, 'kay? Then you're free to go be boring."

(It was not just one more tweak.)

Now, if you're more lowkey, he tries- really really really tries- to keep it chill for you. He does. But he doesn't know how not to do a little something, so you're still getting some Chef Mikey action. Sorry.

If you're dating? Hooooo boy. You are getting smothered in as much affection as you can stand- and he's pretty good at gauging that, so it's only good vibes here. No overload from Mikey, not on your big day! But if you're receptive, you're getting texts right at midnight (despite him being on patrol, BTW) full to the point of bursting with emojis. He follows that up with good morning texts when he gets up. Then it's you coming down to the lair and celebrating and eventually, when things start to slow down a bit, he tugs you away to a secluded corner of their home for cute smooches and big hugs and "Happy birthday, Angel."

("You have a good day?" he asks, eyes big and hopeful and sweet, and when you say yes he scoops you up and spins you just to hear you giggle.)

Raph is actually the only one of the four with any kind of chill- mostly because he is terrified of ruining your day. Birthdays are a huge deal to him, and if he screwed up yours he would legitimately feel guilty until the day he died.

So he keeps it pretty simple. He's a crafty guy, so he might carve you a little wooden decoration for your place, or make you a bowl out of clay, or knit you a big blanket in your favorite color. It's thoughtful, it's either useful or gorgeous, and it's easy for you to carry home.

He's the one that keeps Mikey in check- tries to keep some of the bigger, crazier schemes in line, but he does it without raining on Mike's parade.

And if anybody catches an attitude on your big day? They have this guy to deal with. He takes zero shit. Seriously, Leo's getting bitchy? He gets one (1) warning look. Vern turns up and does anything even remotely annoying? Raph's behind you, silently threatening anything and everything Vern holds dear. Mikey gets too noisy? Raph's bumping his shoulder and having some silent sibling communication. It's all so subtle it's almost off-brand, but it's his way of making sure you have a good day. He's protective!

And if you're dating? Please.

He's doing whatever you want. You need a massage? You're hungry? Tired? Like two degrees too cold? He's got you.

You're having the perfect day if he has to cut his own arm off to make it happen, okay?

He's perceptive, too, so you probably don't have to ask for much.

The gang tries to sing and you look a little uncomfortable? "Happy Birthday to you, blah blah, cake time." And he's winking at you and passing you the cake cutter and it's so no-bullshit that everyone takes the hint but it makes him the center of attention long enough for you to relax again.

(And if you're not a cake person, he totally has Mikey organize another treat, just for you. He helps Mike in the kitchen, too. That shit is made with so much love.)

The night ends with the cuddles of your life. He gets kinda quiet, and it's easy to think he's just tired, but you look over at him and he's staring at you and he looks like you're built out of stardust.

"Shit," he mutters, nuzzling into you and hiding his face in the process. "Love you."

149 notes · View notes

manicpixiedreamcurl · 2 years

Text

The More You Give ❧ (Part II)

Pairing | Eddie x reader

Warnings | 18+ minors and blank blogs don’t interact, drug use, grinding, brief mention of masturbation and sex. Reader is shy and full of doubt. Eddie is kind.

Word count | ~6,700

A/N | I am…very late with this. But my excuse is all of a sudden I had a social life I hadn’t planned for. That’s gone now so I should be more regular in updating from now on. It’s likely to be long, I’m at 20 chapters in the plan currently so I’m not looking to spread that out for ages. Thank you for waiting patiently.

Taglist

Previous Chapter

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Lying in bed last night, you felt something like the childish bliss of the night of your Birthday. Presents opened and enjoyed, full and satisfied by your favourite dinner and a cake made special by your Mom. The joy in the knowledge that, tomorrow, everything that had made you so happy would still be there.

Tomorrow, you thought. Tomorrow, Eddie will still be there.

But now you’re wondering if that’s true at all.

You were caught between feeling stupid, like you must be overreacting, getting yourself worried like you always do, and feeling, with certainty, that Eddie had realised he’d made a mistake. It was only a moment, a small thing, or it would be to anyone else, but you’ve been thinking about it all day.

You’d caught his eyes as you walked past Eddie in the hall, your hand coming up to give him a shy little wave. He did see it. His eyes were on you, but they’d only blinked. You might have said it was shock on his face, but he turned away so quickly you couldn’t get a proper read of his expression. Whatever it was, he ended up acting as if you didn’t exist.

“Once we have the posters up, we can get started on the banner,” Heather says, handing you a pile of yellow paper with her smiling picture. Running for Class President has been her main activity since the beginning of the year, and therefore your main activity, too. You look at the pile of paper in your hands. You helped design it, the pretty blue Vote for Heather! written under her picture is in your handwriting.

“Heather, does Patrick ever ignore you?”

“Since he went to college? All the time. But that’s just another guy thing. You got your blue tack?”

You nod and hold it up, accepting that she’s not in the headspace to be your resident boy expert today.

Being with Andy certainly hadn’t given you any experience of this feeling. He would disappear on you for days, weeks even. Then he’d be there, standing at your locker one morning, all apologies and hands clamouring for touches. He’d say he just got so busy the last week, he couldn’t really see you. You would tell him, smiling, that you understood, because that was the easiest way to end the discussion before he was asking to sneak away into a closet and make it up to you. On the weeks he was angry, after another failed attempt at caresses under your skirt, you only felt relief. It was a break from having to explain yourself, something you’ve never been good at, even at instances where you understand your own reasons. At the end, when Andy had laid out all the ways you had disappointed him, the tears had sprung from humiliation and hurt, but exhaustion, too.

But now, one missed moment, one turned head from Eddie. You’re terrified.

You’re still thinking about it after school, wishing you didn’t have to babysit, even if spending time as chief advisor to Princess Grace was often the great joy of your week. She’ll no doubt clock your mood the second you pick her up, and then it’ll be questions you can’t answer for the rest of the night.

If you weren’t so in your head with worry, you would have heard the engine of an approaching van, wailing electric guitar increasing in volume. It’s the sudden screeching halt of it that makes you jump, looking up to find Eddie grinning at you, arm moving in the effort to crank the window down. “You lost, Princess? Pretty sure this is not the way to your castle.”

Here he is, talking to you exactly as he was. Eddie brand kindness, complete with pet names that make your heart flutter even as it calls out, but why?

“I’m babysitting today.”

“Ah! That explains it. You want a ride?”

You curl your fingers in your sleeves, thumbs wrapped in soft cotton, wondering if he means it, deciding he surely can’t. “No, it’s okay.”

Eddie’s face displays his surprise. “Where you headed?”

“The church.”

“Well, can’t say I love it there, but for you-” Eddie jumps out of his van, hand pressed to his chest. “I’ll go wherever I’m needed. C’mon,” he says, grabbing your bag from your shoulder and taking your hand, helping you into the van. Just like yesterday, like there wasn’t a moment this morning where he pretended you didn’t exist. “So,” he says, letting out a little sigh when he’s back in the driver's seat, van speeding away from the curb fast enough that your body is pushed back into the seat. “This a preacher’s kid, or what?”

You blink at him.

“Babysitting at the church.”

“Oh. She’s at the after school club.”

“You like babysitting this one, or is she a little monster like most kids?”

“I like her.”

You see Eddie nod awkwardly in your periphery. “I’m just heading home to pick up an amp,” he tries. “I’m in a band, don’t know if you knew that. We play at the Hideout every Tuesday. You should come see us play, sometime.”

“I babysit on Tuesdays.”

“Right. Shit. Obviously. Of course you do.” He glances at you, his brown eyes searching. “Hey, are you okay? Did something happen today?”

You clench your eyes shut, rubbing the fabric of your sleeves, feeling stupid and confused and overwhelmed with the need not to cry in front of him.

“Baby?” His gaze moves to you, the road, and back again. “Can you tell me what’s wrong? I’ll try and fix whatever it is, I promise.”

His hand finds yours over your sleeve. Slowly, you free your fingers from the fabric, letting him clasp them gently. You swallow. “You didn’t-” God, it sounds so childish now. “I waved at you today, and you didn’t even- I thought-”

Eddie’s hand twitches. Obviously, he remembers the moment as well as you do. You move to let it go but his fingers tighten, linking around yours. “You thought I’d changed my mind?” You nod, sniffling. “No, sweetheart, Jesus. I was just…so fucking surprised, you know? I kinda assumed you wouldn’t want me to talk to you at school. I didn’t know what to do.”

“What?” You ask, voice watery.

“This may come as a surprise to you, but I’m not exactly well liked by the popular crowd. Being seen with me is not gonna do wonders for your reputation.”

“I don’t care.”

“You’re not worried about how all your cheerleader friends will react?”

“May’s my only cheerleader friend.”

“It’s seriously not a problem,” Eddie says with conviction, as if your last sentence had only convinced him he was right. “If you wanna keep it between us, I’ll get it. Here we are.” He parks opposite the church, and you spy Grace in the distance, skipping rope behind the fence. “Look, the last thing I want is to be, y’know, something that adds to your worries. It’s…so fucking sweet that it didn’t occur to you, but you should think about it, kay?”

The shame is overwhelming. All the times you didn’t defend him, this boy who would let you hide him away if it kept you happy. All the jokes you laughed along with, at the expense of a boy who was surprised you acknowledged his existence after he treated you with gentle adoration. All the people you sit with every day, who hate a boy who already sees what worry does to you, and would hate to cause any more. He hadn’t ignored you because he doesn’t like you, he’d done it because of how much he does.

“I don’t need to think about it.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Eddie, I think you’re so-” Amazing? Wonderful? Perfect? “I’ve never-” Felt this way before? Let anyone get so close so fast? Wanted someone this much?

You swallow, sigh, find an easier way to say it. “I won’t pretend I don’t like you. I can’t.”

There’s a pause while Eddie blinks slowly. Then he grins. “Well, shit.” Eddie leans in close, his hair falling over his shoulders towards you. “You actually have it bad for me, don’t you?”

You squirm, that pleasant embarrassment filling you up again, your cheeks burning with it. Eddie’s hand finds your face and you lean into it, covering his fingers with your own. His lips are smiling when they meet yours, and his grin is catching.

“Okay. It’s noted,” he says, breath warm on your face. His tongue peeks out once to lick his lips. “Always wave back. Otherwise, hell to pay.”

“Exactly.” You giggle, giving him one more quick peck before climbing out. You stand on your toes and curl your fingers over the edge of the open window. “Thank you for the ride, Eddie.”

“Absolutely any time, Princess,”

“Good luck with your gig.”

“Good luck with the munchkin.”

You bite the inside of your lip. When you don’t leave, Eddie just smiles, letting you take your time in finding the right words.

“I feel silly.”

“Yeah?”

You kick the ground, bouncing the rubber toe of your sneakers off the concrete. “Sometimes I…get in my head; convince myself that something is a disaster when it’s not.”

“Like me not waving at you?” Eddie’s eyebrows raise with the question, and he nods with understanding at the affirmative movement of your head. “Don’t worry.” He taps his temple. “That’s noted, too.”

“Okay,” you say through a sigh, giving one last little rock on your toes. “Bye, Eddie.”

“Later, sweetheart.” He watches you approach the church gates, stopping to talk to an older woman standing by the door. Further in, a girl in a sky blue dress entirely abandons a skipping rope in favour of running towards you, crashing into you with as much force as a girl her size can muster, legs swinging happily when she finds herself held up in your arms.

The next day, as you sort through your locker, you hear him across the hallway. “Hey, Princess!” Turning, you find Eddie with his dimples on full display. He waggles his fingers at you while you tense in joyful embarrassment, smiling at the playful glare he puts on until you wave back.

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“You look nice,” your Mom says, face appearing behind you in your mirror. You smile, feeling content with the glittery shadow that covers your eyelids, the shiny pinkness of your glossed lips. “What’s the occasion?”

“Going on a date.”

“Oh, wonderful,” she says, playing with your hair a little until you tilt your head away, whining in protest. “Does he have a name?”

“Eddie.”

“Is Eddie gonna come in for a while before you go?”

“Mom.”

“I’m only asking. I didn’t meet Andy the whole time and then all of a sudden I hear he’s a disgusting little- well,” she clears her throat. “He was disgusting.”

“Eddie’s not like Andy,”

She hums, unconvinced, still doubtful of your ability to pick the right boys since Andy left you sobbing on the doorstep after your final trip to his house.

The doorbell rings, and you blink, glancing at the clock on your desk in a panic. “Oh, he’s early is he?”

“Mom-”

But she’s gone, flying out of the room like a shot and you groan, searching quickly for your shoes. You hear the door open downstairs as you’re tugging them on, hear your mother’s surprised greeting, the low hum of Eddie’s voice in return. Too late now. You glance in the mirror, smooth your dress down and sigh.

You hear your Mom’s laughter as you walk down the stairs. She turns at the sound of you approaching, grasping a bunch of daisies. “Look what Eddie brought you, honey!” Eddie stands in the open doorway, missing his patched vest over the zipped up leather jacket. His rings, too, are curiously gone. He’s wearing cologne that, from a distance, masks any hint of his habits.

Eddie’s gaze on you is entirely too intense for standing in the hallway with your mother, but she’s distracted enough by the flowers. When she goes in search of a vase, you grab his hand, enjoying how soft his face gets every time you touch him first. You swing your hands and look up from under your eyelashes. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Dimples again, eyes crinkling at the sides.

“Now, I want her home by midnight,” your Mom says, placing the daisies on a table in the hall. “Don’t think I won’t be up waiting for her.”

“Of course, ma’am. Wouldn’t dream of it.” He only moves when you tug his hand, pulling him towards his van. “Very nice meeting you!”

“You, too, Eddie!”

Eddie pulls away from your house with a care you’re sure he hasn’t shown to driving since his test. His expression is all self satisfaction while he unzips his jacket, revealing the W.A.S.P. t-shirt, printed with the full band and a stretched out skeleton, and speeds up the second you turn the corner of your street.

Eddie is in his full metal regalia by the time you reach the diner. His hair, even, has regained its frizziness from the demonstration of his ability to headbang while driving. He looks just as you like him when he goes through his gentleman routine, holding the door of the restaurant open and allowing you to choose your side of the booth first.

You are unused to the comfort you feel in the silence while you read the menu, normally on edge when other people are quiet, wondering if they’re waiting for you to be the one to say something. In the limited time you’ve spoken to Eddie, it feels like he’s already learned exactly how to talk to you, what to expect. If he’s silent, it’s because he’s happy to be.

When you’ve decided, you play with the corner of the menu, watching him shyly. His plush lips, set in a content smile. His long, dark eyelashes on display from his tilted head. His big hands stretched on the table, thumbs tapping a rhythm. The back of his hands, lithe and pale, flex with the movement. His rings are back, of course, displaying the length of his fingers that such chunky jewellery barely covers them to the first bend.

That one there, the middle finger of his right hand, has been inside of you already. You felt the width and length of it stretch and play with you. Your toes curl, and when you glance up, Eddie’s watching you intently, expression playful. Your face heats, and you pull your own hands from the table to play with your fingers under it.

“I’m thinkin’ a burger.”

“Me, too.”

“What you getting to drink?”

“Just water.”

“What? Sweet girl doesn’t want a milkshake or nothing? You don’t like ‘em?”

“No, I do.”

“Yeah?” He smiles conspiratorially. “What’s your favourite?”

“Strawberry.”

“They got that right there!” Eddie says, pointing to the page in front of you.

“Sometimes they just make it with syrup.”

“Ahh, and you don’t like that.” He nods in understanding, smiling when the waitress approaches. “Hi there, we are gonna have two burgers,” he glances at you to get a confirming nod. “A Dr Pepper, and hey, do you guys make your strawberry milkshakes with syrup?”

You watch his polite smile, heart a little sore.

The waitress, name tag reading Dawn, is chipper, shaking her head. “No, we make ‘em with fresh strawberries and ice cream!”

“Great! In that case, we’d like a strawberry milkshake, too. Thank you so much.”

When she’s taken your menus, you find Eddie’s pretty eyes. “Thank you.”

He waves his hand like it doesn’t mean anything. “Don’t worry about a thing, sweetheart. I got you.”

You think he really does.

Eddie is good at talking. You like listening to him chat easily about his club and his band while you sip your milkshake. He clearly likes Dustin, one of the younger ones, who he talks about with the frustrated fondness of an older brother. He’s proud of the club, how it's grown, but says with charming humility that he’s aware it lacks feminine presence. Not his plan, he assures, though he’s not entirely sure how to fix it now.

Eddie is good at telling stories. You’re listening intently through each bite of your meal while he describes with impressive memory his first time DMing, overconfident and underprepared, something he’s clearly learned a lesson from.

Eddie is also good at prompting you, giving you space to speak as much or as little as you want.

“I don’t know if you remember, but uh, I played a middle school talent show with the band.”

“I remember,”

“You do?”

You nod, playing with your straw and smiling. “Thought you were brave.”

“Oh, Jesus, that fucking hurts.” You giggle as he clasps his heart only to return to full health a second later to eat seven fries together in a pile. “That bad, huh?”

“I meant that you were doing something different.”

“Different is one word for it. Kinder than most people, though, so I appreciate that.”

“Doesn’t it scare you?” He raises his eyebrows. “Letting people judge something you care about?”

“Yeah, but that’s why it’s metal to just do it anyway. Especially here, where they’re bound to hate it, no matter how good we get. What’s the alternative? Playing in a garage for the rest of my life, hoping we’re good enough but not taking the risk that we might not be? Nope. Nah, man. Not me.” He shakes his head in earnest, bringing his hand up to point at himself. “I know I might not ever be successful, or even make enough from music to live, but I am for sure gonna fucking try.” He eats a couple more fries, has another thought while chewing and continues with them shoved to the side of his mouth. “Same reason I haven’t dropped out, y’know?” Eddie swallows, looking intense and sure of himself. “Nobody is ever gonna be able to say I gave up, that I didn’t try.”

You are wide eyed in admiration of him.

“Besides,” he grins, leaning into you. “I am really fucking good.”

As if heated, Eddie shakes his hair out a little, and removes his jacket, sighing. His bare arms are pale and inked. A flock of bats by his elbow, a demonic puppeteer on the inside of his forearm. When he brings his right arm across his torso to stretch, you spy a third and blink in recognition.

“You like my tats?” He asks, mischief in his tone.

“Is that a wyvern?”

He blinks, surprise evident. “Uh, yeah- yes. It is. How did you know that?”

You chew a fry. “Two legs.”

“Oh, yeah of course, how stupid of me. I forgot everybody knows that,” he laughs, shaking his head a little incredulously.

You hum. “They pop up in old Celtic stories and poems.” You tap your feet a little, gearing yourself up, that feeling of knowing you have something to say and wondering if you really want to say it. “The word has a cool origin, too.”

Eddie gestures for you to elaborate, then rests his head on his open hand.

“Well, it’s- some people think it comes from, um, wivre, which is Old French for snake, essentially. And then other people think it’s Old English. Cause that language has, um, wiver, which is snake, and guivre, which means a javelin? So, a javelin snake, like a flying snake. A wyvern.” You sip your milkshake almost violently to shut yourself up, still tapping your feet under the table while Eddie stares at you. You shrug. “I don’t know. It’s not useful information. I just like stuff like that. I don’t know.”

“Things don’t have to be useful, if you like them.” Eddie leans forward. “Thank you for sharing something you care about, baby. Very metal.”

You twirl your straw in your milkshake, grinning at the table. “So, they’re used in your campaigns sometimes?”

“Of course,” he grins, starting to tell you about their powers, the way they can be used by somebody like him, a Dungeon Master, to add stakes to the worlds he creates. It’s like he knows, after your question, that you need him to be the one to talk for a while.

Eddie pays the bill while you’re in the bathroom, your resulting glare only making him more pleased with himself. “I’ll-” you start, stop, grab his hand and gain some confidence. “I’ll pay next time.”

“Next time,” Eddie agrees, squeezes your hand tight.

You glance at the time on his watch when you’re buckled up in his van. “Where we going, Eddie?”

“Well, that’s up to you. If you want we could go to my place? If I’m honest, usually around this time on a Friday I’m, well...high? Was wondering if you still wanted me to teach you how to smoke.”

You get a little fuzzy at the suggestion, remembering Eddie’s quip about what he might do when you were high. Just a joke, you knew that, but the thought of him touching you when you’re a little out of it is worryingly appealing.

“Okay.”

“You sure? Cause we can just watch a movie or something. Or if you’re tired I can take you home.”

“‘M not tired.”

Eddie’s pleased look is heat inducing in the evening light.

He warns you on the way, suddenly, that he lives in a trailer. Not ashamed, or defensive, just a mention. When you get there, he swings his feet on the way over to the door, holding it wide open and gesturing for you to enter in front of him. It’s nicely cool, a screened window open to let a gentle breeze drift through the air. You note a couch, chairs, a TV to your right, a little kitchen to the left that looks like it hasn’t experienced the presence of a woman in years.

“Eddie, do you live alone?”

“Nah, I live with my Uncle, but he works nights, so…we got this whole place to ourselves.” He grabs your hand, pulls you walking backwards down the hallway. “Bathroom,” he says, pointing to the first door you walk by. “Closet.” He taps the one opposite. You reach the end of the hall. “My room.”

If you had to guess what Eddie’s room would be like, this would be it. Posters and drawings line the walls, an electric guitar hanging by a mirror on the far wall. There’s tapes littered all over the place, a pile of records by a player. You smile at the clear attempt to condense the mess of clothes in one corner, a high pile lined with t-shirts to try and cover whatever else might be in there.

While Eddie opens a window, you sit up on his bed, leaning down to remove your shoes so you can tuck your feet up and cross your legs comfortably. Eddie turns and stares at you, giving a long blink. He watches you even as he crosses the room to start a cassette up, intense electric guitar and heavy drums filling the room until he turns it down for your more sensitive ears. Eddie takes one big step towards you, presses his fingers to your shoulder briefly. When he visibly pinches himself and flinches, you grab his hand, eyebrows creased in disapproval.

“Sorry,” he breathes. “Just really, really had to make sure this isn’t a dream.”

Eddie lies himself easily back on his bed, legs stretched out, toes wiggling in his white tube socks. Like this, spread out and comfy in his t-shirt and jeans, Eddie looks so boyish and handsome it makes you want to crawl into his lap and stay there forever. You think about it while he grinds weed fished out of a plastic bag, wondering how seriously he meant the promise of no funny business. He pats the space next to him without looking up from his work. “C’mere.”

You settle back into his spare pillow, keeping your legs tucked in, your knee just resting on his thigh. Eddie’s pink tongue peeks out, wet and wide, to get the paper ready, then it stays there, held between his teeth while he concentrates on rolling it up properly. “Okay,” he says, expression serious on you as he turns the joint in the flame of his lighter. “Want you to take a couple deep breaths through your mouth for me, yeah? In and out.” He watches you do what he says. “What you wanna do is, sorta, get it in your mouth first, then you breathe from there, like so.” You watch him, the sudden intensity of the cherry when he wraps his pink lips around it, then the slow movement of his chest. He blows the smoke away from you before holding the joint out for you to take. He senses some hesitancy and shakes his thigh under your knee. “You don’t have to, baby. No pressure from me.”

“I’m gonna cough.”

“Damn right. Looking kinda dumb the first time you smoke is a right of passage. But it’s only myself here to see it, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

You do cough, a symptom of breathing in too fast in your nervousness. Eddie pats your back softly, taking a couple pulls from the joint while you try to clear your throat from the burning sensation, looking up to keep your watering eyes at bay.

“That’s it, let it out. You gotta let it sit for a while. There’s no rush. Open your mouth even, get some air mixed in.” You follow that advice clumsily, but it’s easier, and followed after some time by the strange gentle wave that makes you want to settle back into his pillows and bury your face in them. Eddie watches some of the tenseness fall from your shoulders. “That’s it, huh? One more, baby, then you’re good.”

“Okay, Eddie,” you murmur, taking another drag before handing it back to him. He leans over your body to dispense some of the ashes in the tray on the table next to you. Your eyes stick to the porcelain column of his neck, stretched out and tense from leaning, relaxing as he sits back, settling the ashtray on the middle of the bed. You sigh, giving in to the need to relax entirely, slumping down until you’re only tilted at the shoulders. “I like your room.”

“Yeah? It’s a bit of a mess.”

“Did you do the drawings?”

“I did.”

“You’re so talented, Eddie.” You hum, turning on your side to look up at him properly. You reach out to grab the hand on the opposite side of you, the left one, covered in rings. You run your finger along them. A cross, a pig, a skull.

“You like ‘em?”

You smile a little, thinking yourself very clever when you reply. “I like you.”

“Me? You’re serious, baby?”

“You knew already.”

“Yeah, but it’s still hard to believe.” The weed is nice, makes you feel at ease, drifting instead of fighting to stay afloat. But you aren’t confident enough to list out all the reasons it should be very easy for Eddie to believe he is liked. Instead you keep playing with his rings, linking your fingers through his. “I like you, too, you know.”

Your sigh is deep and long. “That is hard to believe. I haven’t done anything at all to make you like me.”

There’s a pause, then Eddie’s detangling his fingers from yours gently, spliff hanging from his lips while he searches his bookcase. His fingers waggle, hand darting from shelf to shelf then a soft. “Ah, there you are.” You sit up when Eddie climbs back onto his bed, presenting you with his found book.

Sonnets to Orpheus. Beat up and a different addition to your own copy, but overall the same book. “I’ve sat through so many of those presentations, you know? You blew them all out the water.”

You tighten your fingers around the cover, shaking your head. Even like this, you couldn’t believe that for a second. “You must be confusing me with someone else.”

“Baby, I went out and bought the book. Read every poem in there, too. Thought I could,” he huffs a laugh and sits back, taking a long drag before he continues. “Thought I could, you know, impress you, maybe, one day. Which I’ve ruined now by admitting it, but it’s the truth.”

His tone, self consciousness mixed with sincerity as he tells you tried to understand something you love, did so entirely to impress you, fills you with fondness for him. The high is gently fading, but the confidence it brought is replaced by the growing feeling of safety that Eddie seems to radiate.

You rest the book on his bedside table, toes curling in your socks while you give in to what you’ve wanted since Eddie splayed himself out on the bed. You climb into his lap, calves pressed to the mattress either side of his thighs, feeling immediately right. That you are where you belong. His expression is all wide eyed surprise, especially when you take the joint from him and put it out in the ashtray, getting one final hit from what he breathes out across your face. You breathe it in, the bitter smell of it overtaken by Eddie’s aftershave, cheap but pleasant, sticking to the skin of his neck.

Safe, you think, leaning forward to kiss Eddie’s throat. You feel him swallow under your lips. Hands resting on his shoulders, you press kisses under his chin, the end of his cheek. His eyes are closed, letting your lips search the skin of his face until you reach his pink lips, giving the bottom one a quick taste with the tip of your tongue before you kiss him properly. Eddie’s hands come to your hips, smoothing over the fabric of your dress when your tongue finds his, fingers digging in a little at the soft, excited moan you let escape.

“I promised no funny business,” he says when you pull away to cast heavy breaths.

“Just kisses.”

Eddie fixes you with a look of disappointment that stokes the heat between your legs. “I think you’re looking for a little more than kisses though, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Your hips twitch, and the resulting laugh is harsh enough to send excited shivers down your spine. “Mm-hm, that’s what I thought. C’mon then, take what you want.” You blink, lips falling to a gentle pout that makes Eddie shake his head, hair moving about his face. “Don’t know what you want, do you, baby?” He pouts right back at you when you shake your own head. “No, course not.”

The hands on your hips press you down, spreading your legs wider on top of him until the warm place between your thighs is in direct contact with the denim of his jeans. You gasp, whimper a little at the stiffness there. “Been like this since I saw you sat on my bed, baby, looking all pretty and at home. Wanted to get you like this the second we walked in but, y’know, I was trying to be chivalrous.” His hands help you move in a slow roll over him, the cotton of your panties rubbing your weeping entrance, catching on your clit just a little at the end. “But what am I supposed to do when you sit yourself all wide eyed and willing in my lap, mm? I am but a man.”

You bear down a little, knees bouncing on his mattress to press the bulge at his crotch deeper, wanting him between your lips, wanting him inside. You whine low in your throat. “Eddie.”

“Know you haven’t ever had anything inside, but need you to tell me, sweetheart. You ever rubbed this little cunt on someone?”

“No, no. Nobody but you, Eddie. Just-” You gasp, finding the right tilt of your hips to drag the wet, sticky fabric of your panties across your aching clit. You focus on that angle, bouncing and rolling your hips against Eddie’s hard cock through his jeans.

“Just what?” You hum in question, mind already losing the thread of the conversation. Eddie digs his fingers into your ass, making you whimper. “What have you rubbed this pretty cunt on, baby?”

“Mm. Use my pillow sometimes.”

“Jesus Christ.” His eyes clench shut, jaw set in a way that would make you worried he was angry if you weren’t focused on how to rub your pulsing clit just right. Your panties are stuck fast between your lips now, exposing some of the wet skin to the air, to the roughness of Eddie’s dark jeans. “What do you think about?”

“Mm?”

“C’mon now. When you’re riding your pillow. What’s goes on in your busy head?”

“Oh,” your body clenches, thinking about the last time, just this week. Not as good as this, not nearly, but better than any time before because you knew what Eddie’s hands felt like, had kissed his lips and heard him speak to you, heard him call you good and pretty and sweet.

“Gotta know for my sanity. C’mon, please, tell me.”

“You,” you whimper, clit twitching happily at the sound of his groan above you. You press your face to his neck, hidden by his hair, deep in the smell of him that makes your head light. It takes you a second of gathering your thoughts, your bravery, but you continue. “You, mmh, saying I’m good.”

Eddie presses one of his hands to your cheek, bringing you up to face him. He tilts his head to you, eye contact intense and overwhelming, your chest tightening. “Talking to me like this? You’re so fucking good. I know it’s hard for you, baby, and you’re doing so well.” He nods as the tears build in your eyes. You are half wanting to look away, but the feeling there in his brown eyes is something you can’t get enough of. You want to see it all the time, the tenderness there, the pride. “Sweet girl, making us both feel so fucking good.”

You like that, smiling with pride. “Feels nice?”

Eddie laughs, finally letting you look away when he presses a long kiss to your forehead, hand moving to massage the back of your neck while his chin rests on top of your head. “So nice. S’fucking warm, bouncing all pretty on my lap. Your pussy’s gonna leave my jeans all wet, isn’t that right, baby?”

You don’t answer, can’t answer, mouth occupied by soft moans and little, begging whimpers. His hand is large and warm at the back of your neck, massaging points of pressure that make you feel like a kitten in his grasp, mewling for the comfort of his touch. Your hole clenches, missing him, gushing wet at the thought he might play inside again soon. You want him so much, the thought is distant but sure. If Eddie asked, he could lay you back and fuck you on his bed right now.

More than the perfect drag of your sodden panties over your clit, more than the hard press of Eddie’s thickness through fabric against your hole, the thought of Eddie above you, hair wild and falling around you, stretching you out on his cock and groaning, pushes you over.

“That’s it. Fuck,” Eddie laughs at the sudden change in rhythm, the desperate circling press of the top of your cunt against him, the sound of you bouncing on your knees against his mattress. His hand keeps rubbing your neck softly, keeping your mouth at the base of his throat while you clench up and cum against him, pussy leaking enough slick it’s starting to seep through the fabric, leaving even the check cotton of his underwear a little damp with you.

You breathe deep, Eddie’s neck perfect to press your face into and whine when you start your hips up again. You avoid your sensitive clit, but allow Eddie to guide your hips over him, firmly rubbing his aching cock. “That’s it, make me feel so good, baby- yeah-” You feel the moment he cums, a violent twitch against your cunt, his hands suddenly halting your movement altogether while he groans, low and desperate into the air. “Fuuuuck,” he breathes, then laughs, lips finding your forehead again. “Jesus Christ, you are a fucking temptress.” You look up at him, blinking in confusion. “Just made me break a solemn vow. I’m pretty sure this counts as funny business.” He sighs, head falling back on his neck. “Certainly wasn’t very chivalrous of me.”

“I needed you.”

His head comes back up with a grin on it. “Thanks for the loophole. Couldn’t just ignore a Princess in need. If anything, this should earn me the title.”

You rest your head on his chest, hearing the beat of his heart as it slows steadily. Eddie strokes your hair from your temple, hand hiding you from the world while you recover. You tilt your head, a silent petition that Eddie reads and grants within a second, lips finding yours in multiple kisses of decreasing length until he’s pecking your mouth, then your cheek, eyelids, forehead, back down to your nose, your chin. You giggle when he starts all over your neck, never stopping in one place until he finds a soft little spot at your collar bone which he pulls between his lips harshly.

Your hand tangles in his soft hair, keeping him there through the wide lick of his tongue against that spot, soothing the ache. There will be a mark there already no doubt, Eddie’s first claim on you. Ask me, a desperate, weak part of you thinks. I’ll let you do anything.

Instead, he holds you in his arms, lying back on his bed and letting you curl up at his side, staring at the serene expression on his face. When he opens one pretty eye to find you gazing at him, you aren’t even embarrassed.

Eddie lets you use the bathroom first when he starts shifting uncomfortably, needing to deal with the cooling cum in his boxers. The thought makes you a little giddy while you clean yourself up, that you made him feel good this time instead of getting trapped in your head. He runs in there when you’re done, holding a spare pair of underwear and jeans, but not before giving you another press of his lips to your forehead.

He finds you on his bed when he returns, swinging your legs a little and happy to see him back. Eddie stands over you for a minute, stroking your hair and watching for any signs of what happened the last time he touched you. All he finds is a sated, happy girl, so he clears his throat, suddenly turning to the piles of cassettes and picking one off the top. “I, uh, made something for you.”

He hands you the cassette, the white J-card reading METAL FOR BABIES written in scratchy black biro. Under that, a list of tracks and artists.

“Classic stuff on there. You might not like it. I mean, I have no idea what you’re into but I thought it would be kinda cool, you know? It’s nothing too heavy, so you might like it. And it’ll get you used to it, you know? Since you’ll be hearing a lot of it, probably, from now on.”

Your heart cries, yes please.

Eddie gets you home by half eleven, even after toning down his usual speeding violations to spend a little more time able to look at you, clutching your new tape, sitting comfy in his van, kicking your legs happily. With the warning that your Mom would no doubt make good on her promise to stay up, Eddie has lent you a black oversized hoodie, already big on him so it sits on you comfy, the arms long enough to cover your fingers, the neckline high enough to cover the mark he’d left on your collar.

He walks you up to your door, hands in his pockets, legs back to swinging. “I wanna see you again like immediately,” he admits, leaning right into your space the way he’s prone to doing. His face is close to yours, watching your agreeing nod. “You wanna do something tomorrow? We could go to the lake, maybe?”

Another nod. “I can make lunch.”

“I’ll bring beer.”

You give him a kiss, hand flat on his chest. “See you tomorrow?”

Eddie sighs dramatically. “Until then, sweet lady.”

You watch him drive away from your kitchen window, hands covering your warm cheeks. Your wet eyes close tight. Your heart sings.

Next Chapter

#eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #we cross our fingers this shows up in the tags this time #tmyg

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katethewriter · 2 years

Text

Just Come Home

sequel to Wish We Could Be Like That

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader

Words: 11k~

Summary: Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Inspired by the song Where's My Love by SYML

Warnings: bad words, bad guys, canon typical violence, an extremely long chapter

A/N: Remember when I said its gonna get worse before it gets better? hehehe... This part includes a long-awaited confrontation! I also hope this is a satisfying ending for the story. I don't really have anything planned next for this series, but I'm not against adding to it. If you have any ideas, hit me up! I might see if it can fit into the series. I'm almost certain this is the longest single chapter I've ever written for a fic. I hope you guys enjoy! Let me know what you think!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part One - Part Two - Part Three

Near silent foot steps announce Clint’s return.

For the last two hours, he had left to pick up the next shipment you are to pass to the tracksuits. As he enters the room, he looks at you sheepishly. His hands mindlessly fiddle with a small piece of paper with every step.

You barely spare him a glance before returning to the notes you were studying.

The two of you have barely spoken since that morning you finally broke the news of your relationship. Beyond the few questions he asked you about the timeline of your relationship, not much has been said about the matter. The longer the information sets in, the more he contemplates the last year and his interactions with you specifically.

You can see the guilt setting in more and more with each day. You want to give him the benefit of the doubt. He had only been trying to be a good friend. He thought he was looking out for Natasha. That’s what he was trying to do, unknowingly causing the pain he was trying to prevent. You try to remember his intentions were in a good place, despite bring terribly misguided.

However, the sting of betrayal still lingers. The last six months spent with no contact from Natasha and Wanda, without even a chance to say goodbye, all because he meddled into a relationship that wasn’t his to meddle in to begin with.

He comes to a stop in front of you, holding the folded page between you. “This was with the shipment,” Clint breaks the three day silence, “its for you.”

When you look up, he doesn’t meet your gaze. You stare at the offered paper for a moment before finally reaching out to take it from him. As the archer shuffles back to his side of the room, you turn the page over in your hands. Unfolding it slowly, you instantly recognize the handwriting, and your breath catches in your throat.

Y/n,

I wish I could just speak to you directly. I know it would do me good to hear your voice right now, Wanda too. We meant it when we said we are incomplete without you. Unfortunately, this note will have to do for now. We understand this mission is very important, and you have to do what you have to do. However, we miss you more than words can describe and want nothing more than for you to come home as soon as you can. Work fast, but please be careful. Your safety is paramount. We will wait however long we must to be with you again.

We love you.

-N

You don’t notice you are crying until a tear has landed on the paper. You quickly swat away the tears, very aware of the archer still in the room with you. You look up and lock eyes with him. By the look on his face, you know that he read it. He must have to know that it was meant for you.

“I’m sorry,” Clint whispers.

Silence stretches between opposite sides of the room. You need to talk. Decisions have to be made, plans discussed and orchestrated. The next exchange is tomorrow night, and they will want your answer by then.

You fold the paper and tuck it beneath your pillow, “I know.”

“For all of it,” he responds, “for dragging you on this mission, for how I acted, for what I did that night.” He’s had time to think, practiced a few speeches in his head. The apology he owes you. The apology he owes Nat. He can’t seem to come up with the right words, but he tries anyway. He knows you need to clear the air, so you can complete the mission and get home where you belong. “None of it was ok,” he clears his throat.

It’s a big change, an almost complete 180. He wouldn’t blame you for not forgiving him. He knows he doesn’t deserve it. He hasn’t earned it, but he wants to.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Clint asks, “that night or even after?”

Incredulous, you look across the room, “would you have believed me?”

He’s quiet, contemplating his answer. He wants to say yes, that he would have believed you and reacted differently. If he’s honest though, he doesn’t know. Was he too blinded by his protective instincts to have seen the truth? “I don’t know.”

You nod. You can appreciate his honesty at least. “I was insecure,” you admit, “I was worried that you were right. That my involvement in our relationship was hurting them.” Your hand raises to your chest, running your fingers over the rings. Reminding yourself of the reassurances they promised you.

“I was wrong,” Clint nods towards the note under your pillow, “they’re obviously better off with you than without. I’m sorry I didn’t see it.”

You nod silently. As day turns to night and the sky goes black, you remember the mission and what you have to do tomorrow night. “I have to go,” you state, knowing that he will understand what you mean, “we both know that.”

Clint shakes his head, “I can’t let you.”

Groaning, you roll your eyes, “Clint-“

“Y/n,” he interrupts before you can even say anything, “I can’t. If I send you in alone, Nat will never forgive me.”

“You’re a little late for that, bud,” you retort with a raised brow.

He pauses for a moment, contemplating the cryptic message in your response. “She knows?”

You nod in response.

“Does she know about that night in the hall?” he specifies, “about the bruises?”

You nod again.

He furrows his brow, “but she never said anything.”

“She found out the night before we left for the mission,” you explain, “Wanda too, at the bar.”

Clint’s face falls even more, “was she pissed? Nat?”

A chuckle escapes your throat, “I believe her exact words were ‘I’m gonna kill him.’”

He nods solemnly. He knows he deserves it.

Silence falls once again. You both know what you have to do, though he doesn’t want to admit it.

“I have to go in,” you repeat, “it’s the only way we’re going home.”

Clint nods reluctantly, hoping this won’t be the last nail in his coffin.

~I’ve got a fear, oh, in my blood.~

When Wanda rolls over in the morning, she is met with cold sheets as usual. Natasha left long before for her morning run. The sokovian buries her face in the pillow, inhaling as much of your scent as possible.

Late in the night, she had made her way to Y/n’s room. Unable to sleep until she was wrapped completely in her girlfriend’s bedding. When Natasha had woken with Wanda’s movement, she quickly followed. Lying in Y/n’s bed, they were almost able to trick their brains into believing that she’s here.

As she sits up in the bed, Wanda can’t ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something doesn’t feel right, but she can’t put a finger on what it is. The worry settles into her bones as she gets up and begins the day.

Maria and Steve are standing in the same spot looking over the same display boards they always are when Natasha makes her way into the command room. Instantly, she can feel the energy is different today.

The pair are tensely focused on the information on the screens, hushed words exchanged quickly with a sense of urgency. Worry pools in the widow’s stomach like it never has before.

“Any news?” she asks as she quickly approaches the pair.

They startle at her sudden entrance. They turn to her, and then quickly look to each other in silent hesitation.

“What’s going on?” Nat asks after they are silent a moment too long for her liking.

Maria takes a deep breath looking to the ex-assassin, “Y/n missed the check in.”

The worry in Natasha’s gut quickly turns to panic, but she tries to remain calm. She can’t help if she can’t maintain control. “When?” her voice is tight. Her jaw clenched.

“Two nights ago,” Steve relents.

“Two nights?!” The Russian can’t control herself as the panic slips into anger, “What do you mean two nights ago?! Why haven’t you done anything?! Why am I just now hearing this?!”

“They had an exchange with the tracksuits the night before last. They were to check in immediately following,” Maria quickly informs her. “There was a possibility the exchange would lead to further interaction with the group. Clint checked in after and confirmed Y/n got the progress with the group.”

“We should have heard from her last night,” Steve added, and the tone of his voice told Natasha all she needed to know.

Y/n has gone dark.

“What about Clint?” she asks quickly.

Maria turns, “we’re trying to reach out now. We’ve been waiting for him to contact us back.”

“Is he not with her?”

Steve shakes his head, “he said they only agreed to work with her.”

Nat’s stomach drops somehow further than it already had. Immediately thoughts start spiraling in her head.

Clint hates y/n. Is he telling the truth? How much can they trust him? He threatened her. Was he really capable of leaving her in a dangerous position? He hurt her. Could he have put her in harm’s way on purpose?

Is that damn secret gonna cost her and Wanda the love of their lives?

TWO NIGHTS EARLIER

The warehouse is empty when you arrive, as always.

Clint parks, but neither of you exit the car. This could be the last chance to talk before this mission takes a serious turn for you.

“Are you sure?” he asks again. He’s hoping you’ll say no. That this exchange will be just like all the others. They will come, take the shipment and then leave the two of you to make your way back to base together.

“Yes,” you nod. “It’s the in we’ve been waiting for.”

He sighs, “I still say we should wire you.”

This….. again….

“We’ve been working with them for almost six months,” you parrot the same debate you’ve been going through for the past two days. “They’re barely starting to trust us. They’re gonna check for things like a wire. They’re too paranoid not to.”

The archer shakes his head. He hates the plan but knows there is nothing he can do to change it. “You have got to be careful,” he faces you directly, “I won’t be in there to cover your six. Get the information you can and get out as fast as possible. My phone will be in my hands at all times, but don’t try to reach out unless you know you’re alone. Once you’re out, call me. I will meet you whenever and wherever I need to, ok?”

For the first time in months, you look into his eyes and see your friend staring back at you. The guy he’d been before he questioned your involvement with your girlfriends. “Thanks,” you say, actually trusting the words he said to you.

“Let’s get this over with and go home,” he half smiles.

The flash of headlights grab your attention, signaling the arrival of the tracksuits. The two of you exit the car as the three vehicles come to a stop before you. The men start emerging from the cars, and you are met with the usual crew. The last to exit the car is Kazi. The boss’s #2, and the one you were leaving with tonight.

“Long time, no see,” Clint quips as he opens the trunk of the SUV revealing the crates of the substance you are particularly familiar with after months and months of study and handling.

Kazi’s men begin checking the shipment before loading it into their vehicles. The young man in charge approaches you, “I hear you have an answer for me.”

“What’s in it for me?” you bargain, knowing a blind acceptance is suspicious to men who only give when they take first.

Kazi’s lips curl into an amused smirk, “I think you’ll find you’ve been well compensated.” He nods in the direction of Clint and his men.

Once all the goods were transferred, one of their guys pass your partner a large envelope, like they always do at the end of your exchanges. Clint opens and counts the bills, quickly realizing there was more than was typically provided in their previous transactions. The archer looks up to you and nods.

“…and there’s more where that comes from if the boss is impressed.”

You lock eyes with Clint one last time. This is the point of no return. You will officially be on your own. You nod at him, before turning back to Kazi, “well what are we waiting for?”

“Alright,” he grins. He turns towards his car, raising an arm in a silent invitation. Kazi’s guys load into the other two cars and drive off. When you reach the car, he quickly opens the passenger side door for you. You sit down and buckle up as he closes the door and rounds the car.

Clint watches the two of you sit in the car before pulling away to follow the others. Once he can no longer see the taillights, he climbs into the SUV quickly pulling out his phone to check in with the Hill.

~She was carried up

into the clouds high above~

The car ride across town was comfortable enough. Conversation flows pretty easily between you and Kazi. You listen to him explain a little bit about the power structure of the group. He quickly names and describes a handful of the people you were going to meet and work with. He cracks jokes and spills a little bit of gossip amongst the group.

He actually doesn’t seem like that bad of a guy, you think to yourself. You could actually see yourself hanging out with him, if only he wasn’t a criminal.

Eventually he pulls into a parking garage beside what used to be a KB Toy Store. Its only a couple blocks from the abandoned office building you have called home for the past six months. You file that information away, just incase you need to hide quickly.

You exit the car and follow Kazi as he walks to a door on the adjacent wall. They’re steel double doors with large windows in the top half of the door. The view inside is blocked however with several layers of what looks like newspapers.

He stops in front of the door, turning to face you. “I gotta check you first,” he waits for just a moment before elaborating, “can never be too careful.” He chuckles in a way that you know you have no chance of refusing.

Lifting your arms in compliance, “by all means, check away.”

He quickly pats you down quickly until his hand lands on the hand gun strapped to your hip hidden beneath your jacket. He quickly lifts an eyebrow.

You cheekily lift one as well, “can never be too careful.” You smirk, trying to act smug to hide the pounding of your heart.

After a moment, Kazi breaks out a satisfied smile, “boss is gonna love you.” He turns back to the door, knocking three times, pausing for a second, knocking twice, pausing, then knocking three times again. After the sequence, he steps back, and the door is pushed open from the inside.

Kazi leads you through the door and immediately a guy is on you, beginning to pat you down. Kazi holds up his hand, “I already checked her.” He grabs the guys arm and shoves him off you, “she’s clean.”

“Except for the piece on her hip,” a booming voice echoes against the walls. You turn in the direction of the sound and see probably the biggest man you’ve ever seen (with the exception of the hulk) approaching you. You recognize him immediately. Its Fisk, aka Kingpin.

The younger man beside you huffs in amusement, “tell him what you told me.”

“New York’s a big city,” you state confidently, relying on the adrenaline to keep you going, “a girl can never be too careful.”

Fisk cracks smile, “fair enough. Name?”

“Unimportant,” you try to brush off the question.

He fixes you with a stare, “we use names here.”

You suddenly feel rather small under his gaze, ��Y/M/N.” Not your official real name that you use, but close enough to not be a lie that could be easily forgotten.

He nods over his shoulder, “right this way, Y/M/N.” He leads you through a short entrance way that you can easily identify as the abandoned toy store. After a moment, you enter a larger room, that looks like a thrift store’s version of a chemistry lab. Tables are covered in tools, test tubes, and large containers of different substances. A wide array of materials, chemicals, powders, unidentifiable liquids and gel like substances. You quickly recognize a few. The one you have provided for the past six months, and others that you learned were often combined with it.

Several men are working meticulously measuring, combining, observing the different ratios as they try to create something. What they are trying to create, you have no idea. They pour over pages and pages of notes.

Kingpin holds up a page that lists detailed instructions for a certain combination of the materials you see scattered about the counters. “This is what we’re wanting,” he offers you the sheet for you to examine more closely, “but these idiots can’t seem to work it out. The subjects don’t survive the first 5 minutes of the transformation.”

At his critique, the men working in the “lab” look up in clear worry.

“Your reputation precedes you,” he taps you lightly on the back, “I hear you’re something of an expert in this area. Maybe you can show this crew how its done?”

You are far from the expert he’s described, but right now, you need to be. Quite literally, your life may depend on it. You may not be an expert, but you have learned quite a lot over the past six months. Enough so that as you glance over the notes quickly, you can almost instantly know what you’re looking at.

It’s a formula for a serum, specifically a very early, rudimentary version of the super soldier serum.

You had become very familiar with it, while studying the component that you have been supplying. Wherever they found these notes, must have been very outdated. This formula didn’t work. A few of the ingredients had later been replaced for better alternatives, some had been dropped altogether because they were not necessary for the serum’s effectiveness.

The biggest problem with this particular formula was that none of the subjects survived. With the perfect ratio, the subject would gain the strength and endurance of a super soldier, but due to unforeseen side effects, it had a very short shelf life. Usually within the following 24 hours, the subject would suddenly seize and eventually succumbing the side effects of the serum.

That’s why they can’t figure it out. The formula was just simply flawed beyond repair.

In an instant, your blood turns cold. The only way out of this building for you is to successfully manufacture the drug. If you did that, who knows how many innocent people will be at risk. Fortunately, quick thinking grants you the best plan of action.

Fix the formula just enough so its successful for a very short amount of time. You don’t need much, just enough to display the effects and get out before the serum kills the subject.

“Well, your problem is that these directions are almost over 100 years old,” you walk to one of the counters. Quickly grabbing a pen, you adjust the ratios, “this was one of the first attempts for the serum. They had to adjust the formula to make it successful.”

Once you are finished writing in the necessary changes, you fully enter the “lab” and begin gathering what you’ll need. The men, who had been working tirelessly, watch in shock as you confidently work circles around them.

This irritates Fisk beyond words, “start taking notes, idiots.” All of them hurriedly grab the closest pen and piece of paper available to them. Their focus then sets directly to you and every move you make.

The creating of the serum takes a few hours, requiring certain periods of heat and cold to activate different components. Once you’re finished, the sun has risen again. Neither you, the other men in the lab, or Kazi have slept at all during the process.

When Kingpin returns in the morning, you have a vial of the perfectly effective serum. You know you need to leave soon, but Fisk insists you stay through the first test.

They lead in a man with his mouth gagged. He is forcefully strapped to a chair for the injection. A part of you pities the man frantically trying to break out of confinement and as far away from your needle as possible. Then you remember, he’s a tracksuit, and the entire city depends on you getting out of here in time to gather the team for a strike.

Once you’ve injected the subject with the serum, it takes only a few seconds to fully work its magic. A small audience has gathered to observe the first trial of this new serum. He begins to thrash violently, even more so than when he was dragged into the room.

You all watch as his muscles swell, until the point a handful of the restraints burst under the force. It takes about 5 minutes for the initial effect to come to a stop, but then, he manages to break free of the restraints that remained like they were nothing. You turn your attention to the others in the room to gage their reactions.

Kingpin slightly smirked with victory. Kazi smiles at you, mentally congratulating himself for being the one to find exactly who they needed to make it work. The other lab workers stare awestruck that in a few hours you had accomplished what they have tried to for the better part of a year.

“Well done,” Fisk is impressed and anxious. He finally has what he needs to push is plan of city wide domination. “Put the formula in writing for our guys, and you are free to go.”

Instantly you do as your told. This new super soldier is a ticking time bomb, and you need to be far away when it explodes. After answering a few questions from the lab workers, you make your exit. Kazi stops you, asking if you need a ride somewhere. When you say that won’t be necessary, his face drops much like a kicked puppy.

…maybe Clint was right. You do have an admirer.

The moment you step foot outside of that store, you walk quickly in the direction of your base. You wait until you are a block away before pulling out your phone and call Clint.

Before he can even say hello, you interrupt him.

“Super Soldier Serum,” you say as soon as he picks up the phone.

“What?” he asks as he watches you walking further away from the building.

“That’s what they’re trying to make,” you continue, “the super soldier serum. They’ve accrued enough materials to inject over two thirds of their organization.”

When you round the corner, leaving Clint’s line of vision, he quickly makes his way down the building he was currently in, and he begins to make his way to meet you at the base. “With kind of man power…” he thinks out loud.

“They could level the city,” you finish the sentence for him. “I had to fix their formula-“

“You gave them the recipe?!”

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see you, “not exactly. I had to give them something to get out of there. I gave them one of the first, unsuccessful, instructions. The subjects won’t survive the next 24 hours.”

The archer can sense where this info goes to, “how long do we have?”

“Don’t know. Its different with each person,” you explain, “could be very late tonight or he could already be dead.”

Walking faster now, Clint feels a new level of urgency, “we need to get to the compound now.”

“and raid the store front. They’re already working on the next round of injections,” you warn, “They could inject a large number of them before they realize their poisoning themselves. At that point, they’ll be so pissed they won’t care what they do in the city.”

“Meet me at base.”

“A block and a half away,” you confirm, walking a little quicker desperate to get there now. So busy relaying the information, you don’t notice the two guys trailing you from across the street. Both are tracksuits; they sneak behind you waiting for their shot.

You’ve only just hung up the phone and turn down an alley to reach the back entrance of your building when a sharp pain pierces your abdomen. There’s no sound. No gunshot. No disturbance; nothing that should have stopped you on your way home. However, the next thing you know, you’re on the ground laying in a quickly growing pool of blood.

~If you’ve bled, I’ll bleed the same.~

“What’s wrong?” Wanda asks frantically entering the command room. All of the intense thoughts from everyone in the room had cut through any train of thought she had. Something is clearly happening, but the thoughts overlap and intertwine so much that she can’t make sense of any of it.

Nat turns to her girlfriend, “Y/n missed her check in two nights ago.”

The sokovian’s eyes go wide as she looks frantically between all three of them, waiting for more. “What?”

“She didn’t check in that night; there was a possibility that she wouldn’t. If she missed it, she was supposed to check in the next day, yesterday,” Maria quickly explains. “She didn’t.”

“and Clint?” the witch asks. One of the tings that worried her the most is that y/n was out there with him.

Steve responds, “we’re trying to reach out to him now. They were separated. He was supposed to check in after she got out sometime yesterday.”

“He hasn’t answered his damn phone,” Nat growls.

The four of them are in deep conversation, searching for any traffic cams or security cameras with in a five block radius. They’re so deep in conversation, the miss entirely the entrance of the very person they were trying to contact.

“Why aren’t they together?”

“Because I was sent to assemble back up,” a voice immediately sends their attention straight to the door. All of their eyes land on the archer.

A flurry of emotions race through Natasha and Wanda, fear, confusion, shock, panic, and lastly pure hot anger.

They haven’t seen him since that night at the bar, since they found out how he had hurt their girl. On sight, the betrayal and anger bubble to the surface. Wanda’s hands and eyes glow red unintentionally. Natasha immediately walks up to him.

The widow grabs his bicep the same way he had grabbed y/n. With everything in her, she swings him around to the closest wall. When his back hits the wall, he winces in pain.

The others are shocked still at Natasha’s violently angry outburst. “Hey Nat, cool it,” Steve attempts to deescalate the situation and break up the fight, but Clint holds out a hand, stopping him before he can really intervene.

“No, Cap,” he half groans, half whispers.

Natasha is not oblivious to the exchange. “No, cause you know you deserve it; is that what you did to y/n? Is that how you grabbed her?”

“Yes,” he admits to his friend’s face.

Natasha grabs him by the collar, pulling him away from the wall, just to slam him back into it, “how does that feel?” She only gives him two seconds to respond. When he doesn’t, she repeats the movement: pulling him away and shoving him back. “…and you deserve it. Don’t you? You deserve and she never did.”

Clint can only nod, “I do deserve it, but Nat this has to wait-“

She pushes him against the wall again, “Tell me, did you even give her a chance to defend herself before you started throwing her around?”

He has no words for his actions, no excuse. He sighs, “no.”

Natasha leans closer until she is in his face, “then why should I give you that curtesy?”

“Because Y/n needs us right now,” Clint states urgently.

She wants to keep going, wanted to punch him, give him a share of what he had inflicted on y/n, but at the sound of her name she pauses for a moment. She pushes off him, unwilling to risk y/n for her anger.

“Where is she?”

“Hiding near our base. I had to leave her and come get the team,” he looks over each of them quickly. “We have to go raid the old KB Toy Store and get back to her as soon as we possibly can.”

Maris from the place she had been observing quietly, steps up and asks, “why the KB Toy Store?”

“The tracksuits are using it as their front. Y/n got in, and they’re trying to make the super soldier serum,” he locks eyes with Steve for a moment. “She had to help them to get out of there. She gave them a formula that lasts max 24 hours before it kills the soldier. He wants inject a large number of his men within the next few hours. We have to stop them, before they realize they’re dying and take it out on civilians.” Maria quickly jots down everything that he says, so she can begin to organize a team.

“Where is she?” Natasha hisses, “why didn’t you come back together?”

He opens his mouth to speak, but his voice hesitates to form words. “She told me to leave her and come back for her. She wouldn’t have made the trip.”

“Why?” its Wanda who asks this time. Her eyes have begun to fade, but her hands still glow bright red.

Clint looks between the two of them anxiously, “because she got hit. GSW to the abdomen.”

Once again, rage erupts in Natasha, “you left her out there?” She takes him by the shirt and throws him on the ground. Kneeling over him, she only gets a few good punches in before Steve is pulling her off of him.

Wanda steps between them, while Steve continues to hold back Natasha until she has calmed down as much is possible considering the current state of events.

Clint shakily raises to his feet, np sporting a split lip and an already swelling face, “she made me come back for help.”

“How can we believe you?” Wanda questions. He had hurt her before, in her mind, it is entirely possible he would do it again.

“Because she gave me this,” he reaches into his pocket and produces a necklace, but not just any necklace. He holds up y/n’s necklace with two rings hanging like charms on a bracelet, the one they had given her as a promise of her place in their hearts.

In an instant, the necklace is wrapped in red light, ripped from his grasp, and flies to Wanda’s outreached hand.

She hates the thought of him having this in his possession. It was meant to stay on y/n’s neck always until they present her with a ring of her own.

“This doesn’t prove anything,” Wanda says through gritted teeth.

The archer sighs, wondering what it will take for them to listen and heed his warnings. An idea come to mind, “read my mind, Wanda. See the memory for yourself. If that will convince you that we need to move fast.”

Wanda closes the distance between them, and she wants to use her powers to throw him against the wall as Nat did. But she wants y/n home and safe more. Raising a hand, she taps the side of his head. She slips with him deep into his subconscious and more specifically, the memory in question.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clint never heard a gun shot. He just rounded the corner to find Y/n on the ground rapidly losing blood.

“Y/n?” he runs over quickly. When he kneels down and sees you’re awake enough to talk to him, he feels a moment of relief, but only briefly. Taking in the blood loss, he knows you need help immediately, “its ok, y/n. You’re gonna be ok. I’m gonna get you out of here.”

He quickly does his best stop the flow of blood. He rips the bottom of your shirt to pack the wound, and another longer strip he wraps all the way around your stomach to keep as much pressure on the wound as possible.

Even despite the blood loss, you have enough cognitive function to think clearly about the situation, “Clint, you gotta go.”

“We will, give me one more second, then we’re on the move,” he continues to work on the improvised medical attention, frantically doing everything he can to get you well and stable enough to hurry across town.

“Clint, we’ll never make it,” you shake your head, “if this was Kingpin, he’ll have people, maybe even super soldiers all over the place canvasing the city searching for me. You need to go get back up and stop him before he succeeds.”

“No,” he shakes his head stubbornly, “I gotta get you back to Nat.”

“This is how you do that, Clint,” you try to reason, the clock is winding down. It may already have ran out. You try again, “I won’t make it across the city. I’m a breathing bread crumb trail that with lead them straight to you. You can come back for me.”

He halts his movements for a split second to look at you, “what would I even say to them? If I come back alone, they won’t believe me. They’ll think I left you for dead.”

You have to admit he has a point there. He needs proof. Something that will make them know to listen to what he has to say. With shaky hands covered in blood, you reach up to unclasp your necklace. Once its off, you clasp it again, and hold it out for him to take.

“Take this.”

“No,” Clint denies.

You don’t give in, “give it to them, they’ll listen if you have it.”

Tying one last knot in the make shift bandage, he’s almost ready to set you on your feet the best you could manage. “Give it to them yourself.”

“Clint please,” you beg with a despair in your voice that cracks his resolve, “I didn’t get to say goodbye.” Tears roll down your cheeks, suddenly facing a fear you never knew you had, “please, I can’t die, Clint. I can’t die without... I never got to say goodbye.” Your hand shakes as you hold up the necklace once more, “please. It’s the only chance I’ll see them again.”

He finally relents, taking the necklace from your grasp. He quickly looks around the alley, trying to fins a place that leaves at least somewhat hidden. He quickly lifts you and sits you beside the dumpster about five yards away. He finds the remnants of a cardboard box. Takin the larger pieces, he leans them over you and against the side of the dumpster. “Stay here,” he urges you, like there’s anywhere you could go. “This should keep you pretty hidden,” he says to you before placing the last piece over your face, “just incase they come back. Try to stay quiet and awake. We’ll come get you as soon as we can, I promise. Just stay with us.”

After that he covers your face, like he did with the rest of your body. Clint stands quickly reaching for his phone so he can call for backup, but he can’t seem to find it. He takes off down the alley without it. He doesn’t have time to look for it.

Y/n doesn’t have time for him to look for it.

Dodging the tracksuits while traveling across the city, proved to be much harder than Clint had anticipated. Several times, he had to hide low for a while, until the person moved on. All in all, it’s the next morning by the time he runs the compound doors.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wanda exits Clint’s memories and is thrusted back into the present. Immediately, her face crumples, and she buries it in her hands. She pivots falls back into Natasha’s embrace.

~If you’re scared, I’m on my way.~

No one needs to ask what that means. Everyone knows that Clint must be telling the truth.

“We have to go,” Wanda lifts her head, “We have to go now.” Natasha nods, pulling the younger woman close to her again.

A brief lock of eyes between Natasha and Steve is what finally tips the ball into rolling. The super soldier immediately sends out an urgent message announcing an emergency mission. Everyone is to suit up immediately and report to the command room right away.

Natasha and Wanda are the first to make it to the command, wanting no needing to be out there right now. Clint is a close second.

When he enters, the couple were staring at a monitor. A video clip plays on repeat. It’s a bit below average in quality, but they don’t care. They watch you exit the front and walk down the sidewalk until you walk out of frame.

They barely spare the archer a glance, before turning back to the video.

“I’m sure you don’t want anything to do with me, and I totally get that,” he pauses briefly as he formulates his next sentence in his head, “I just need to say I’m so-“

“You can apologize after we save her, and not a moment before,” Natasha cocks an eyebrow. Clint has come to know that facial expression well over the years, but never has it been directed at him. “Understood?”

He nods in solemn confirmation. They wait for the rest of the team, filled with anxious nerves and deathly silence.

Around 10 minutes later, the entire team is in the command room. Steve explains briefly the rolls for each person. You were splitting into groups, each group going after their respective objectives.

The vast majority of the group will be raiding KB Toy Store.

While Natasha, Wanda, and Clint will be on the second objective: locate Y/n and get her back to the compound as fast as possible. Wanda and Nat were assigned this group for the obvious reasons. Clint was chosen solely because he knows where he hid her. Not to mention that he volunteered himself for this team.

They take a helicopter across the city to avoid the delay of New York traffic. They landed on the rooftop of a building equal distance from KB Toy Store and where Clint left y/n. Everyone pours out and runs to do what they need to, knowing how time sensitive the whole situation is.

~Did you run away?

Did you run away? I don’t need to know.~

Clint leads Natasha and Wanda to the alley behind base.

When they turned down the alley, neither of them saw y/n, but they did see the rather large blood mark that still stains the concrete below. Sensing their panic, “Its ok, I moved her.”

The three of them run to the far side of the dumpster only to be met with several pieces of cardboard with some blood stains.

“I left her right here!” the archer exclaims. He told her to stay put, that he was coming back. A nagging feeling in the bag of his throat suggests that maybe she was picked up. However, they have no clues as to who would have done that. It could be anybody, the tracksuits, an ambulance, some other random stranger that just happened across a pretty helpless woman.

Wanda takes a deep breath trying to remain as calm as possible, even when it feels like her world is crumbling in front of her eyes. “I can’t feel her,” she’s unable to hear y/n’s thoughts.

“She might be unconscious,” Natasha reassures Wanda and honestly herself too. The widow is in deep contemplation of where y/n may have gone. “How far could she have gone if she left on her own?” Nat asks.

Clint shakes his head slightly, “not very far. I had to carry her from here to there,” pointing between the large blood stain and the side of the dumpster.

“So we start close and work our way out,” the widow takes a look at the surrounding buildings, “is she familiar with any buildings in this area?”

“Yeah, this building is our base,” he nods in the direction of the base. “but I doubt she could manage to get herself in there in the state she was in.”

“Have to start somewhere,” Nat tries to pull open the door, but is met with a resistance that will not budge.

“Wait,” Clint quickly comes up behind her holding a key, “we’re gonna need this.”

Nat takes a step back so he can get to the door, “does she have a key?”

“She does,” he turns the key and pulls the door open, “but I don’t know if it was on her person.

Upon entering, Nat and Wanda understand why this is the place is a perfect base while undercover. It doesn’t look like anyone has been here in years and years.

“Ok there are 14 floors,” Clint states, “our set up is on the eighth. We’d probably get the best results if we split up”

“Agreed,” Nat nods. “So, here’s the plan. Clint, go to the top floor and work your way down. Wanda, start from the ground floor and work your way up. I’ll start at 5 and work my way up. Everyone ok with that plan?”

Wanda and Clint quickly agree, and the three of them scatter. Each going to their separate way to search for y/n.

The archer is intimately familiar with the building so he quickly clears the top floors, making it all the way to the eighth floor. Once there, he runs into their setup hoping y/n has somehow managed to get herself up there. Unfortunately, the room is empty. Still determined to find her, he sits at the desk and begins searching through the security feed of the building, hoping it can show him where she went.

Natasha floors 5, 6, and 7. As she sweeps through 8, she hears what sounds like the typing of a keyboard. She follows the sound to a set of double doors; one of which is propped open. She takes a deep breath before entering the room and aiming at the room’s occupant. All she finds is Clint sitting at a desk. Lowering her weapon, she relaxes a bit.

“Have you already checked every floor above us?” she asks. All she gets a nod in response. Quickly she does the math in her head. How had he cleared 6 floors while she had only made it through 3? “… and you’re positive she’s not up there?”

Clint doesn’t even turn his eyes from the computer screens, “Nat, I have lived in this building for the last 6 months. The floors are clear.”

The widow approaches the desk and peers over his shoulder. Her eyes go wide when she sees the security footage he is looking through. He has all angles of the building. If y/n was anywhere in the building, they should be able to find her with the footage.

Wanda searches floors 1, 2, and 3 with no luck. She’s trying to move as fast as she can, while also being as thorough as possible. Its that thoroughness that keeps her from clearing the rooms as quickly as she likes.

Once she is certain the third floor is empty, she enters the stair well to move up to the fourth. She takes the first set of steps two at a time. When she turns to raise the next set of steps, she freezes mid-step, and stares.

“Y/n?”

At the top of the steps, you lay unconscious, leaning against the wall.

“Y/N!”

Immediately, Wanda flies up the stairs and drops next to you. She takes you into her arms. She cradles your head in one arm, while the other hand strokes your cheek. Your skin is ghostly pale, a clear sign of the amount of blood you’ve lost.

“Come on, detka,” Wanda calls to you, trying anything to wake you. She switches from stroking your cheek to patting it. “Please lyubov, wake up,” she desperately wants to see your eyes. “Open your eyes,” she tries to shake you awake, but your eyes remain closed, “Y/n please.”

Her voice waivers in terror. Pressing two fingers to the soft spot just below your jaw, she prays to feel a pulse. For a moment, she feels nothing and fears the worst. “No please,” her lip quivers in anguish, “… please detka, no.”

Wanda presses harder, willing herself to find it, and she does. Its weak and frighteningly slow, but its there. She’ll take it. She immediately raises her hand to press the com in her ear, “I found her! I’ve got her. We’re in the stairwell between the third and fourth floor, far east side of the building.”

On the eighth floor, Nat and Clint jump up from the desk, sprinting out of the room. “Is she…” the widow can’t bring herself to finish the question.

“She’s alive,” Wanda answers, not needing words to know what Nat meant. “She’s unconscious and nonresponsive, but she has a pulse,” Wanda looks up from your face to look towards the door she believes they will come through, “she needs medical attention now.”

“Get her to the chopper,” Steve’s voice rings through the com, “and take her to the compound.”

She shakes her head, even though no one can see her, “I don’t think she’ll make it to the chopper-“

“Wanda?”

Your girlfriend’s attention snaps down to you. She had been so busy trying to communicate with the others, she had missed you opening your eyes and staring up at her. Tears of relief flood her face, and she smiles down at you, “hi detka.” She cups your cheek gently stroking it with her thumb.

Leaning ever so softly into her touch, you try to return her smile, “I love you.”

A happy laugh falls from her lips, “I love you too.” She leans down to press her lips to yours for the first time in many months. Her lips are soft against your dry, chapped ones, but it’s still the best feeling you’ve had since the beginning of the mission.

She pulls back to look at you again.

“Which stairwell?” Nat’s voice pops into her ear, bringing Wanda back into the moment.

“There’s three on that side of the building,” Clint elaborates.

The witch brings her hand back to her com, “the northeast corner. She’s awake; she’s talking.”

“Nat?” you ask weakly.

“She’s here,” Wanda nods down at you, “Nat’s coming; she’s on her way.” She never released her com, so the team can hear her reassure you.

As she continues running through the building, Nat has an idea, “Wanda, give her your com.” The sokovian smiles to herself, knowing what Natasha is wanting to do.

You watch her rip the tech out of her ear and transfer it to yours. She holds the button, so they can hear you just as much as you can hear them. There’s only silence for a moment, then Nat’s voice fills your ears.

“Detka?”

It’s only one simple word, but it brings tears of joy to your eyes, “Natasha?”

“Hi lyubov,” you can hear the smile in her voice, despite her rapid breathing from running, “I’m almost there, love. I’m coming.”

“I love you,” you whisper, as the tears spill from the corner of your eyes.

“I love you too,” she immediately repeats back to you, “just hang on a little longer for me. We’re gonna get you out of here. Ok? You’re gonna be ok, just hang on.” Her voice is laced with urgency.

“Ok,” you promise.

There is more talking. Something about someone leaving the raid, to take you back to the compound immediately. You can barely make it out as your awareness begins to slip again.

Your eyelids are heavy, and despite your effort they begin to droop. Wanda notices this and begins shaking you again, “stay awake detka. I need you to stay awake right now.” You can only nod, as she gently strokes your colorless cheek.

The door to the stairwell flies open.

Natasha barrels through it, with Clint close behind. Wanda smiles up at her in clear relief to be with you again. Without pause, the widow falls to the floor next to you on the opposite side of Wanda. Her hands cradle your face, and her smile beams down at you, “Hey lyubov.”

“Hi.”

“If you ever leave without saying goodbye again, you are in so much trouble,” Nat playfully scolds you.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper at the pain you must have caused them.

They both shake their heads firmly. “Shhhhh,” Natasha leans forward to press a long kiss to your forehead.

From the doorway, Clint watches the reunion. A clear display of how wrong he has read the situation for the past year.

Natasha rests her forehead against yours, relishing your presence. Wanda pulls both of your heads close to her chest. They cling to you, like you might disappear if they don’t hold you tight enough. Not that you were complaining at all.

“Hey love birds.”

Wanda and Nat break from the embrace to face the door.

Tony now stands in the doorway behind Clint with only his face not covered by his suit, “I heard someone needed a lift.”

The two women look back down at you. “Tony’s gonna fly you to the compound,” Nat lightly scratches your scalp.

“We’re right behind you,” Wanda promises. You nod in confirmation. You don’t really want to separate from them right now, but you know that you can’t delay treatment any longer.

Natasha leans down to kiss you. She nestles her face in your neck briefly, trying to soak up as much you as she can before you part again. Once she leans back, Wanda takes her place. She whispers sweet nothings in your ear, then brings her lips to yours.

After they’ve said goodbye, they help Tony gather you in his arms. He lifts up and begins flying to the nearest exit. Once you’re outside, he rises and propels the two of you through the air.

“So, please tell me,” he says as you travel above the city, “exactly how did you manage to land not one, but two hot women? What’s your secret? …asking for a friend, of course.”

You chuckle despite your current condition, “I think I’ll ask Pepper about this ‘friend’ of yours first.”

~If you ran away,

If you ran away, come back home.~

The room is quiet. The only sounds heard are your measured breaths and the beeping of your heart monitor.

Nat and Wanda have not left your bedside, since you all returned to the compound yesterday. You haven’t woken up since the surgery to remove the bullet fragments in your abdomen. Cho has assured them that you are stable and expected to make a full recovery. All you needed now was rest while your body mended itself back together.

Wanda sits near your head. One hand holds yours close to her chest, while the other delicately strokes your face. After two blood transfusions and an iv for rehydration, your skin is full of color once again. Your cold, chapped lips are now soft and full. The change is comforting to both of your girlfriends. The y/n they know slowly returning to them.

Natasha is resting in a seat on your other side. She rests an elbow on your bed, propping up her head. Her other hand firmly grips yours on the bed. She’s fighting to keep her eyes open. The adrenaline has faded and exhaustion of not only the day before, but also the constant worry of the past six months finally catches up to her. Her eyes close despite her best effort.

They sit like that and wait and wait for you to wake up once again.

A soft knock on the door pulls Wanda’s attention from you. Natasha however has managed to doze off. Steve enters carrying two plates with a sandwich and some carrots on each.

“I brought you guys something to eat, when you’re up for it,” he sets the plates on the small side table near the end of your bed.

“Thank you,” Wanda smiles appreciatively.

Steve nods, “any changes?”

The sokovian deflates slightly, “not yet. Cho said it should be any time now.” She looks over your face, “just up to her now.”

He nods. He’s glad to have you back. The change in Wanda and Natasha is tangible. Your presence beginning to return them to their normal selves. He knows the moment you’re awake and well, they will finally be ok again.

“We got them,” he says, remembering part of the reason he ventured in here. “The tracksuits,” he continues, “we took them down before they were able to inject any others with the serum. Thanks to her.” He nods in your direction.

Wanda smiles proudly, “she’s pretty great right?” The super soldier agrees with a smile. “… though I may be a little partial,” she playfully adds.

“Rightfully so,” he takes one last glance at you, “keep me posted about any updates. Also, let me know if you need anything.”

“We will,” she smiles, “thank you, Steve.”

With one last nod, he slips from the room. Leaving the three of you in silence again.

Wanda’s attention returns to you. She hums softly and her fingers find their way to your cheek again.

Another hour passes in this way. You and Natasha both sleep, while Wanda memorizes every one of your features.

She’s so deep in thought, that she thinks she imagined it when your brow furrowed slightly. She continues watching as you lay still again. When your eyelids begin to flutter, she knows she didn’t imagine it.

“Natasha,” she reaches over to wake her.

The Russian startles awake. She lifts her head, looking at Wanda, then following her gaze to you just in time to see your eyes flutter open. “Lyubov,” she stands quickly to lean over you.

You blink against the harsh light as your eyes adjust. You are faintly aware of someone calling your name as you slowly take in your surroundings.

“Y/n?”

Looking up, you find Wanda and Nat looking down at you in hopeful hesitation. Their smiles only grow when you fully lock eyes with them.

“Hi-“ you try to say, but your voice is so dry. You’re sent into a small coughing fit.

Almost instantly, Wanda produces a cup of water from somewhere. “Here,” she offers bringing a straw to your lips. You drink greedily, taking large mouthfuls until your throat is no longer burning.

“Thank you,” you rest back into the bed, and a sharp stabbing sensations blooms on your stomach. You wince and try to lay as still as possible.

They notice this of course. “Are you in pain?” Natasha asks. When you nod, she reaches for the call button on the side of your bed.

A nurse quickly enters the room.

“She’s hurting, can you give her anything?”

The nurse nods, “I’ll be right back.” He then exits the room swiftly.

Once alone again, they turn back to you.

“The tracksuits?” you ask. You need to know that the danger has been neutralized.

“Gone,” Wanda smiles, “the team took them down before any more of them were injected. SHIELD confiscated all of their materials. Its all locked away. Everything has been taken care of.”

You nod gratefully, but worry and guilt stirs within you, “I didn’t want to help them.” You look between them, hoping they will believe you, “I had to give them something, but I didn’t want to-“

“Hey, hey,” Natasha hushes you, “its ok, you did the right thing. You bought us time to take them down.”

Wanda quickly jumps on the end of Nat’s words, “the mission was a success, and that’s all because of you.” They gently soothe you until your worries are squashed.

They’ve finally calmed you down when there’s a knock at the door. You all look up to see Yelena smiling in the doorway.

“Hey, you’re awake,” she enters and stops at the foot of your bed, “how are you feeling?”

You tilt a bit, “well I’ve been better.”

The blonde nods with a smile, “yeah, I bet.”

There’s a moment of silence, and the energy in the room feels awkward. No one quite knowing what to say. This is the most Yelena has spoken to you in you can’t remember how long. Her friendly tone throws you off a bit, but it is a welcome change.

“I need to apologize,” Yelena finally breaks the silence. By her face and tone, you can tell that she knows about your relationship. Her guilt is clear on her face.

“Its ok-“ you try to say, but she cuts you off.

“No, its not,” she stands resolute, “I never should have treated you that way. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was so uncool of me to assume the worst without knowing the whole story.” As she speaks, you can feel the sincerity of her words, “you were my friend, you deserved better than that. I know I don’t deserve it, but I would like to be your friend again, someday.”

You smile. This is the Yelena you have missed since she became suspicious of you. “Is this the part where you give me the shovel talk? ‘You better not hurt my sister or else!’?”

The blonde looks between her sister and Wanda, “I’ve been told I used up all of my protective sister speeches.” She pauses for a moment, “… plus, I trust you not to hurt her.”

Her words hit you straight to your heart. Emotion starts to gather in your eyes; you lightly squeeze Nat’s hand prompting her to bring yours to her lips. She leaves a tender kiss on the back of your hand.

Yelena takes this as her cue to leave you three to each other. “I’ll get out of here, so you can rest,” she smiles to each of you, “if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

“Thank you, Yelena,” you say. She gives you one last half smile before slipping back into the hallway.

Once alone again, you look up to them and sigh, “I missed you so much.”

“We missed you too,” Wanda leans down to kiss you lightly, “more than you know.”

Natasha then leans up to press her lips to yours. She’s happy not only that you’re home, but you’ll also be treated the way you deserved to be from the beginning.

“Am I interrupting?” a familiar voice asks from the doorway.

“Yes,” Natasha grumbles and breaks the kiss to acknowledge the new visitor.

The three of you find Clint standing awkwardly with flowers in his hands, but you don’t notice those. You are too preoccupied by his appearance. His face is all beat up. A busted lip, swollen eye, and a litany of bruises adorn his face.

“Woah, what happened to you?” you ask. None of those injuries had been there the last time you saw Clint, when he hid you beside the dumpster. You know he had been there when they found you, but you never saw him, too concerned reuniting with your girlfriends and trying to maintain consciousness.

“Nothing I didn’t deserve.”

He steps into the room. “These are for you,” he places the flowers on the side table next to two plates of food you are just noticing for the first time. Were those for Nat and Wanda? When was the last time they ate?

He then stands looking between the three of you. Wanda and Natasha are very much still angry with him. They barely spare him a glance. Natasha specifically fighting to keep her hands to herself.

“I want to apologize,” he starts, “to all of you. I’m sorry for dragging Y/n on that mission, for all that time you suffered being apart. Nat, I’m sorry I didn’t just come to you and ask what was going on. Y/n, I’m especially sorry for lashing out at you. That night in the hallway…”

At the mention of the incident, both Wanda and Nat snap their focus on him. Their need to protect you pushing itself right to the front of their brains.

“… it was uncalled for,” he finishes, “and way out of line. I don’t expect or deserve your forgiveness, but if there is anything I can ever do to make up for some of the suffering I’ve caused, I will do it without question.” Your girlfriends don’t say anything; they just return their attention to you.

“Just you wait,” you break the silence, “once I’m cleared, we’re gonna spar, and I will not be pulling my punches.” Despite the anger they still feel, your remark brings an amused smirk to their faces.

Clint chuckles lightly, “I think that’s more than fair.”

Just then the nurse finally returns with the medication to help with your pain.

“I’m gonna step out,” the archer says, “I’ll see you around.” Without anything further, he exits the room.

The nurse approaches the side of your bed, and Natasha steps back to give him room to work. “Alright Agent Y/L/N,” he adjusts your iv and begins to push the medication into the line, “this should help with your pain. It has a sedative effect, so any drowsiness is completely normal.”

You nod as you feel the effects of the drug throughout your body.

Once he is finished, he resets your iv with fluids, gathers the discarded vial of medication and makes his exit, “if you need anything, just press the call button.” With that he is gone.

Your girlfriends settle back beside you like they were when you were asleep. Nat runs her fingers through you hair, while Wanda takes your hand between both of hers. You relax back into the bed as the medication fully sets in. Your side no longer hurts, and your brain feels a bit fuzzy.

Your thumb runs across a ring on Wanda’s finger, and she is reminded of the item in her pocket.

“I have something for you,” she says softly, reaching into her pocket. You furrow your brow curiously. When she holds up the necklace with their rings, you can only smile. She reaches around your head to put it back in its place, and you lift your head to give her more room. “There,” she says once it is secured around your neck.

Nat reaches and adjusts the rings until they are centered on your chest. She fixes you with a stare, “if you ever take it off again, you’re sleeping on the couch.”

A genuine laugh bubbles up your throat, “I won’t.” Your eyes feel heavy once again. The longer the drug is in you, the more it works its magic.

“Sleep,” the widow urges you, “you need it to heal.”

“We’ll be here when you wake up,” Wanda promises, “sleep now.”

Unable to fight the drowsiness, you relent, “ok.” Though you catch sight of something, right before you can close your eyes, “will you do me a favor?”

“Anything detka,” they agree before you even ask.

You smile cheekily, “eat those sandwiches before I wake up again.”

Now, they are the ones laughing. Nat rolls her eyes but agrees, “ok.” She resumes playing with your hair, while Wanda hums quietly again.

The combination quickly drifts you off to sleep again.

~Just come home.~

Learning Curve

Series Master List

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

…so they keep telling me my taglist is too long, and I’m not allowed to tag that many people in a post, SO I’m gonna try to tag the rest in the comments. If you know a way around the 50 tag limit, let a sister know please 🙃

tag-list: @simp4nat @mostlymarvelsstuff @youralphawolf72 @originallovementality @an-evergreen-rose @mmmmokdok @localarcherwriter @boowhobabe @womenarehotsstuff @gay-trash-in-a-paperbag @lifeontop @wandamaximoff-simp @kaitlynroseb @diablloblood @ang3lmask @marvelwomen-simp @nightimemommy @smromanoff @nothisismax @splatasha-jumpinoff @natashaswifeu @nattyswidow @dumpaccdontmindme @natty-taffy @iliketozoneout @nowthisisliving27 @theoowo @tvseries-writings @trikruismybitch @s1ut4nat @xinied @souanick @melatonindaydreamz @angel-of-snow @chailivi @lainjupi @gay-fandom-menace @trashbod @lonewalker17 @daenerys713 @tigerlillyruiz @winters-witch-bitch @wizardofstories @karmasgxrl @kyoka-jirou @m-r-nicely @marvelfan-2022 @its-just-greek @anonreader346 @justarandomreaderxoxo @smallworld123 @finleyfray @maernys @loveshineslikethesky @peachesandhoneyb @danicarpediem @ministark @imthenatynat @bapplenana @alwaysgoodnight @oh-thats-cute @jowshuaayee

***if your url is not listed above or in the comments below and you would like to be added to the taglist, please go to the series master list and comment there. Its easier for me to have all the tag requests in one location. Thank you, y’all are the best 🥰

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sourpatchys · 6 months

Text

My personal Shigaraki Tomura Headcannons that I will defend with my life

—

He’s actually pretty shy. He keeps to himself, he’s not going to tell you about his interests unless he trusts you with his life, he won’t even so much as share his favorite foods with you if he doesn’t know you well enough. Not because he’s afraid you’ll make fun of him for it— he just genuinely finds opening up to be embarrassing and prefers not too if he can help it.

He never lost his love for video games and he still thinks about strategies with a lot of the terms in mind. Being the leader of the league of villains and losing the original hide out made him pull the break on his hobby’s.

He likes to draw. He figured out at an early age that art doesn’t take all five fingers. It started as something silly he did when he didn’t feel like paying attention to kurogiri, and steadily over the years it’s become something he relies on to help with stress

He wears all black because he’s too lazy to figure out what looks good. He does care about his appearance, but not badly enough to go through multiple outfits.

He’s actually really self conscious of the scars on his face. He thinks they make him look weak, unkept and disgusting. If he could change anything about himself he’d get rid of them in an instant.

Due to his self conscious nature regarding his looks— he’s super on top of everything else. As a kid he was so worried about looking the way he does and smelling, that he actually had to be temporarily banned from using cologne and body spray because of how overwhelming it got for everyone around him.

He has insanely good handwriting. It’s actually really alarming to see for the first time.

His internal dictionary is also pretty well established. Shigaraki is not afraid to use big words, and he tends to use extremely well put together sentences, both verbally and otherwise.

AFO made sure shigaraki had a proper education, even going as far as to hire private tutors, which is why his vocabulary is so top of the line.

(Sometimes while speaking the league will stop him midway through and ask him to use ‘normal people’ words)

He does have manners— some might even say he has an annoying amount of manners. And he will get pissed off if people don’t follow his footsteps, especially if the situation calls for it.

That being said he has never— and will never— sit in a chair properly. His legs are all over the fucking place and that’s how he likes it.

Growing up he wore mittens to bed to stop from absolutely disintegrating his mattress because he’s a stomach sleeper.

He sleeps with his mouth open, he drools AND he snores.

Contrary to what you may think, he’s not going to be an angry spiteful boyfriend.

He takes everything to heart because he hates everything, that’s who he is and that’s what he does! But he doesn’t hate you. So he will learn to take things with a grain of salt when it comes to you.

He’s not going to be a confrontational type of guy with you, he knows it wouldn’t solve anything if he came in with guns blazing. He doesn’t want you to ever see him that angry as long as he can help it.

He’s not going to apologize if things go wrong on his end though— at least not vocally. Honestly he doesn’t even know how to apologize, so you’ll just get a gift or some tighter cuddles that night compared to usual.

He’s afraid of spiders. He thanks the universe every single day that there isn’t some weird ass mutated spider hero that he has to deal with.

His “rebellion phase” was just him trying to overcome his murderous thoughts. (It didn’t work)

This man loves loitering. It’s the stupidest crime there is and he genuinely cannot get enough of it.

It took him an embarrassingly long time to understand that not everyone had endless amounts of money. Growing up he could order or buy whatever he wanted, so he just assumed that’s how the world worked for everyone until his early teens

If he were to start developing feelings for you, he wouldn’t know what the hell was going on. “Love” and “attraction” are not emotions he’s familiar with.

He will absolutely test out his theory by building a life with you in the sims.

Shockingly enough he’s not opposed to having kids. It’s just not something he’d ever think about unless you were to bring it up.

He has a My Chemical Romance hoodie tucked into the very back of his closet.

He collects vinyl records

He doesn’t like animals but if he had to choose between a dog or a cat he’d choose a cat.

Yes— he does own a pair of pink fuzzy bunny slippers, your suspicions are correct. (They’re so comfortable but he’d never been caught dead wearing them)

As a kid he collected bottle caps, he still has one he carry’s around with him as a good luck charm

He constantly forgets to tell you where he’s going and how long he’ll be gone— and he’s never on his phone so don’t expect him to answer your texts or calls if you’re worried.

A Domesticated shigaraki is just like having an old man as a pet. He complains— is a little too good at playing chess— is always wearing some kind of pajamas and smells like aftershave

Has the largest sweet tooth you’ve ever encountered. This guy could eat an entire cake in a single sitting and not get nauseous.

He either won’t eat at all and then gets pissed because he’s hungry or he’ll eat too much and get pissed that he’s full

He keeps a small sketch book on him at all times and 80% of the pages are of you

He’ll eat anything once, including shit he finds on the floor

One of his front teeth is fake, the adult tooth literally just never grew in

He hates hero’s but sometimes in order to get ideas he reads old marvel comics

He’s a green goblin stan

He has a “shoot first ask questions later” mentality that no one can take away from him. He simply does not gaf what your reasons are

He’ll kill anyone regardless, but he goes a lot harder on people with outdated opinions

#shigaraki x you #tomura shigiraki x reader #shigaraki headcanons #shigaraki imagine #mha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #tomura shiragaki #mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia

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greyghoulclub · 7 months

Text

There was a letter for Max on the table. It had been there for at least two months now. But she was too scared to open it, for may be written inside.

She stares at it from across the breakfast table while she was supposed to be eating breakfast before she got to school. With a shaking hand she picked it up and looked at the scratchy block handwriting on the envelope.

Maxine.

There was only one person apart from her mom who called her Maxine.

The letter was found in his room the day after he was skewered by the monster made of people. It was one of three. The other two addressed separately to his parents. She thought about the letters the gloomy day his coffin was lowered into the ground. It was in the middle of August but the sky had been overcast as if it was weeping for him too.

Her mom had sent the one addressed to his mother away the day after they were found. She saw her stepdad rip his up with some ugly words about his now deceased son. After that she hadn’t seen her step dad since. Fine by her, she didn’t like the guy anyways and he didn’t either.

Her mind was full of the memories of him, the good and the bad. The time where he had helped her beat a record on the arcade machines to win a giant stuffed bear for El, but then that was followed with a memory of him breaking her skateboard for sneaking out at night. She understands why he did it now, but she was still pissed about it. The walking paradox that was Billy Hargrove.

The letter itself read;

"Dear Maxine,

I want you to know I never really hated you, not one bit. I thought you were annoying sure, but who doesn't think their younger sibling is annoying? Tell Lucas I didn't hate him either, I was made to act that way. Neil wouldn't have taken too kindly to you hanging out with a black kid. He was the monster, not me.

He pit us against each other Max, especially so I wouldn't have had an ally against him. He used me to punish you since people would ask questions if you were walking about with a black eye. I hope he hasn't turned onto you since I'm going to die soon. You're a good kid Max, and you don't deserve anything he may or may not throw against you.

I'm going to sound insane right now, but there's more monsters in Hawkins other than Neil. Actual monsters that you'd see in a horror movie, dogs with no faces, ones that can walk on two legs. And one that's made out of people. That one made me take people to it against my will to help it get bigger. It brainwashed me Max, I can feel it in the back of my head as I'm writing this, it doesn't want me to tell you this. It tells me I need to not be as weak as the boy. I don't know who the boy is but you've got to keep him away from me. I already took Heather to the monster and her family, they got melted into the monster, it was the most horrible thing I've ever seen and it made me do it. I think I might be a bad person Max, but I don't want to be. I've never wanted to be a bad person but other people and things made me a bad person Max.

I don't know what I'm trying to tell you Max, I guess this might be the last time I speak to you as me. The monster is taking control more and more. Just remember that I love you, and while I might have not been the best brother to you, you were the best sister to me.

Love, Billy"

The letter had tear stains near the end, the ink starting to smear from either Billy's tears or Max's. Part of her was angry that it took Billy dying for him to tell her this, the other part felt a sort of relief to know that Billy really did love her. Tears were freely flowing as she read the letter again, pain in her chest growing for not realising earlier that Billy had been a victim of both the Mindflayer and Neil. She felt as if she had failed Billy even though she wouldn't have been able to do anything.

She clutched the letter close to her chest as she cried in the corner of Billy's room. "I'm sorry Billy, I'm so sorry,"

#stranger things #billy hargrove #max mayfield #billy and max #angst #st fic #billy antis dni #greyghoul fics #tw death #tw child abuse #post s3

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yourlocaltrashcan657 · 4 months

Text

Menral Hospital AU! Yandere! Attack on Titan x Female Reader

Chapter 18- Jean

Walking out of Connie’s cell, Y/N saw Levi being dragged by two security guards. He looked at Y/N and mentally smirked, proving that he kept his promise. She made sure that at Break, she would retrieve Marco’s letter to Jean.

Making her way to Jean’s Cell, she was wondering where Erwin had been. He hadn’t walked up to her once nor talked to her. Was he mad about her not attending yesterdays party?

Shaking the thought off, Y/N made it to Jean’s Cell and sat beside the boy who had been waiting eagerly but quickly went back to his gloomy mood.

“Hello Y/N.” Jean said before fake coughing.

”Hello Jean. I have a letter from Marco.” Y/N said before reaching into her pocket and grabbing the letter and handing it to Jean.

”T-thanks.” Jean said before opening it and reading the neat handwriting. A small smile crept on his face until he looked up and saw Y/N looking which had him going back to his ‘grumpy’ look.

”Why do you do that?” Y/N asked.

”Do what?” Jean asked back.

”You always smile until you see me looking at you.” Y/N said. “Are you worried I might judge you for smiling?”

”W-what?! No no!” Jean quickly replied. “I’m just tough like this and I don’t smile-“

”What if I told you, you look quite nice when you smile?” Y/N teasingly asked.

”H-Huh?! Are you serious?!” Jean practically shouted as his eyes widened.

”Mhm!” Y/N reassured.

The same fluttery feeling erupted from his stomach like the last time he talked or even saw her. Just the way she sat there like the Goddess she is made him feel so honoured.

“You’re hair is r-really beautiful..” Jean whispered.

”Thank you Jean! No one’s really ever complimented my hair besides my friends.” Y/N said as she smiled and twirled a few strands. (A/N: sorry to any bald ppl :P)

“Say.. do you like Eren?” Jean asked.

”Yeah! He’s a great, fun guy and he’s really nice towards me.” Y/N explained.

”What about me?” Jean asked.

”You as well!” Y/N said.

”So.. between me and Eren, who’s the better person?” Jean asked whilst smirking.

”I cant really chose between the both of you.. it’s not that you guys are the same but it’s the just because you both are really different in a good way.” Y/N explained.

Jean only looked down at the ground and mumbled an okay and talked with Y/N more until he handed her a prewritten letter as she began to leave for lunch.

(A/N: I’ve realised that my chapters are becoming quite short and I apologise for this because I barely have any time because school has started. Thank you to all of my wonderful readers and hope you have a good week ❤️)

#christa lenz #sasha braus #yandere aot #yandere aot x reader #yandere bertolt #yandere erwin smith #yandere connie springer #yandere jean #yandere erwin #yandere jean kirstein #yandere reiner #yandere levi #yandere levi ackerman #yandere shingeki no kyojin #yandere #yandere eren yeager #yandere eren #yandere armin

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