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illdowhatiwantthanks · 9 months ago

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The Lemon & The Apple (The Surprise, Part 7)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, NSFW, sex, fingering, strap-on, oral, some explicit language, pregnancy times. established relationship, fluff, smut (let me know if I missed anything!) Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Baby names, cravings, and more in the next few weeks of your pregnancy. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Morning sickness might be gone, but so is Emily, often. She's out on a case and the second trimester has your sex drive higher than ever.

Week 14: The Lemon

Emily walked out of Quantico and into the fluorescent-lit parking lot, holding her phone to her ear as she waited for you to pick up.

“Hi, lovely,” you answered, your voice bright. You were generally happy these days, having left morning sickness behind in the first trimester.

“Hey,” she said, smiling. “I’m just now leaving the office. Have you eaten?”

“No.”

“Want me to bring you something?” she asked, plugging her phone in as she drove off, your voice filling the car.

“Yeah, I could eat,” you replied sarcastically. You could always eat right now. In fact, you had a hard time eating enough.

“What do you want?” Emily already knew the answer. These days, you wanted the same thing. Every day. Even multiple times a day. To the point that the restaurant owners knew you.

The line was quiet.

“Y/N,” Emily prompted.

“Umm…” You stalled. You knew pregnancy cravings were no joke, but it still embarrassed you a bit to be this obsessed. Emily had to be getting tired of El Rinconcito. This would be your fourth time going this week. And it was only Wednesday.

Emily smiled, knowing you were trying to be considerate of what she wanted. “You want pupusas, don’t you?”

“Yes," you admitted, a little guilty. “But we don’t have to. We can get something else if you want.”

“Ah!” Emily tutted. “Stop that. You’re my wife. You’re pregnant. You want pupusas, then that's what you'll get.”

You smiled to yourself. Emily was so good at spoiling you. “Thank you, love.”

“Same as usual?”

“Yep.”

“Alright. I love you. I’ll see you in a bit.”

When Emily walked through the door at El Rinconcito, the owner, Ernesto, threw up his hands in greeting.

“Mrs. FBI!” he called. “The usual for your beautiful wife?”

Normally, Emily hated to be called Mrs. anything, but she found Ernesto’s nickname endearing. You came in multiple times a week, and you often talked about Emily, almost always referring to her as “my wife, she’s an FBI agent.” So when Ernesto called her Mrs. FBI, what Emily heard was that you talked about her constantly; it was a nice reminder that you were crazy about her, always thinking about her. So, for you? She’d be Mrs. FBI.

“Yeah, thanks, Ernesto,” she said, sighing and leaning on the counter. “All the pupusas.”

“And for you?”

Emily flipped through a menu without really looking at anything. She’d eaten so much Salvadoran food in the last few weeks. She was starting to get tired of it. “Honestly? Anything I haven’t had yet. Surprise me.”

Half an hour later, Emily was walking through the door with a plastic bag of takeout, grinning as you stood on tiptoes to kiss her on the cheek, snatching the food from her hand.

“God, I’m starving,” you groaned, flopping onto the couch and pulling out a pupusa, moaning as you took a bite.

Emily pulled out her own food–a container of some kind of heavenly-smelling soup–and sat next to you, watching you devour the pupusa.

“I think you’re more in love with pupusas than me right now,” she joked.

“Mmhm,” you mumbled through a bite. “Look out, I might leave you for Ernesto.”

Emily was quiet for a moment as you both ate before venturing, “I’ve been thinking about names.”

“You have?” You absentmindedly placed a hand on your stomach, which flipped in excitement.

Emily looked almost scared, like she was genuinely afraid to raise the subject. She bit at her fingernails, and you took her hand to stop her.

“What are you thinking?” you prompted, trying to put her at ease.

“I was wondering if�� I mean, if you’re okay with it…” She stumbled over her words, which was so rare for Emily.

You rubbed your thumb across her hand. “Em, you’re fine. Just say it.”

She avoided your eyes, her voice quiet. “I thought maybe, if you liked it, we could name him after my grandfather.

You felt your heart soften as you watched her. “The one whose cabin we stay at in France?”

“Yeah.”

“Julien?”

“Yeah…”

You smiled at her, still holding her hand. “I don’t know, Em, I was pretty set on another name,” you teased.

It was almost more than you could take when her face fell, but the joke was too good not to land.

“Oh, really?” she said, her voice low and sad.

“Mmhm,” you continued, taking another bite of pupusa. “I was thinking Ernesto.”

She glared at you, trying and failing to fight off a smile as you burst out laughing.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you said, reaching forward to run your thumb along her cheekbone. “Babe, I love Julien. He’ll be Julien. If it’s a boy.”

“Ugh, not this again,” she complained, but you knew she was teasing. You both had grown to love your faux-feud over the baby’s gender. There was no question that the baby would be loved, perfectly and wholly, regardless of their gender at birth or their gender later on. But you both enjoyed a bit of competition and, god, you knew Emily’s correct “profiling” of the fetus would go straight to her head if the little lemon turned out to be a boy.

“So do I get to pick the name if it’s a girl?” you asked, smirking, your eyebrows raised.

“Did you have one in mind?”

“Maybe Eve? After my mom? It’s her middle name.”

She smiled softly, watching you pile the takeout trash into the plastic bag. “Yeah, I like that. But he’s a boy, so…”

You rolled your eyes, but stretched out on the couch, laying your head in Emily’s lap so that you were looking right up at her. There was so much love in her eyes when she looked at you, it took your breath away. She gave you butterflies. Nearly six years in and you still got butterflies when she looked at you like that.

“Play with my hair?” you asked, and she started running her fingers through. God, she could put you to sleep like that. You closed your eyes and sighed contentedly. “So Julien if it’s a boy, Eve if it’s a girl.”

“Mmhm,” she said, watching you in her lap. She loved the feeling of you there, the weight of you, the knowing that you felt safe and loved and comfortable. She loved making you feel that way. It was an honor, a privilege, a gift that you loved her like that. That you let her love you like that.

“So Julien it is, then.” Emily smirked, watching you frown.

You smacked her arm playfully, keeping your eyes closed. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know.”

But, really, it was you who were lucky to love her.

Week 15: The Apple

Another week, another long case for Emily. She’d been somewhere in Oklahoma for nearly ten days. It wasn’t the longest she’d ever been in the field, but it was close. And it likely felt longer than normal because you were pregnant and hungry and no longer had an Emily to run out and get food for you at any hour of the day or night.

After months of feeling disgusting and exhausted, your sex drive was also back in full force. What a time for Emily to be gone. Just when you needed her. Really needed her. You hadn’t heard from her in about 24 hours, which would concern you except that you had her location on your phone. You spent many an evening with your Find My app open, watching both the TV and the little dot that was your wife making her way around various cities. Mostly, you just wanted to be sure she was moving. And that she wasn’t at a hospital.

But the dot hadn’t updated in a few hours tonight. Still not necessarily cause for alarm, but you made a mental note to call Emily later and make sure she was okay. As for now, you sprawled on the couch, eating a box of Kraft Mac & Cheese (Spongebob shapes only) straight out of the saucepan, while reruns of New Girl played.

You sat up quickly when you heard the apartment door open and shut, a smile lighting up your face when you saw it was Emily.

“You’re home!” you called, meaning to leap off the couch but struggling–you still weren’t used to the added weight or the way your now-protruding stomach knocked you off balance. When you finally got to your feet, Emily was standing at a distance, just staring at you, her cheeks flushed, eyes bright and soft.

“What?” you said, reddening under her gaze.

“You’re showing,” she said, her voice rough, like she might cry. She moved closer and placed her hands on your waist so that her thumbs brushed over your belly.

You felt your skin shiver under her touch, your body already longing for hers. You put your hands on the back of her neck and pulled her down into a kiss. A heavy kiss, a hungry kiss, a kiss that set you on fire. Heated and heady and frantic.

You slid your hands under her shirt, pressing your fingers into the soft skin of her abdomen. When she pulled away, your breath was ragged, your face flushed. You whined, pulling at her collar.

She smirked at you. “I take it you missed me.” She grasped your face in both hands, her thumbs grazing back and forth against your jawline. You huffed, nearly dizzy with desire for her, as she pressed her lips to your eyelids, your chin, your cheekbone, then back to your mouth. You felt drunk on her. She pushed her tongue into your mouth, and you moaned, leaning your body into hers.

You were so dazed you couldn’t even bring yourself to open your eyes when she pulled back again, running her fingers along the bottom of your lip.

“Emily,” you said breathlessly.

“Hmm?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

She silently led you to the bedroom and laid you down on the bed, her hands all over you as she removed your sports bra and pulled down your shorts. She lowered herself on top of you, and you moaned as she ran her tongue down your neck.

“How do you want it?” she asked, swirling over first one nipple and then the other.

You arched your back and gasped. “Strap,” you said, your thighs already glistening. You wouldn't need any warming up tonight.

Emily furrowed her eyebrows and sat up, thinking. You looked up at her expectantly. “Hey.”

“Is it safe?”

“What?!”

“The strap,” she said, placing careful hands where your stomach protruded. “He’s getting bigger. I don’t want to hurt him.”

“You can’t be serious.” You groaned, shoving her off of you, and rolling over to rummage through her nightstand, emerging with your favorite dildo and her harness. You tossed them at her impatiently. “Em. You speak six languages. You’re one of the smartest people I know. You cannot be this dumb.”

Emily still looked hesitant as she strapped up, watching you with concern. “You’re sure?”

“Emily,” you chastised. “It’s big but it’s not that big. Come here.”

You grabbed her wrist and jerked her toward you, shoving her hand between your legs so she could feel how aroused you were, feel the slick coating your thighs and your center.

She exhaled breathily, shuddering above you. “Shit,” she hissed, unable to resist running her fingers through your folds.

You bucked your hips toward her, nearly incoherent with want.

“Please,” you begged. “I need you.”

And with that, Emily could resist no longer. She crashed her body into yours, her mouth and hands roaming all over you–your mouth, your face, your chest, your stomach. You cried out as she eased her fingers into you, collecting your arousal to coat her strap.

You squirmed as she teased your entrance with the tip of the strap. “Emily,” you whined.

“Shh,” she said, and you gasped as she pushed herself inside of you. Your chest heaved as you adjusted to the feeling of being filled, and she leaned down to press a kiss to the side of your head. “I got you,” she whispered, breath hot in your ear as she started to thrust.

Your body quaked and pulsed around her as she moved deeper, burying herself inside of you, your chests pressed together. Her eyelids fluttered and she trembled, her breath hitching.

You got tired of waiting for her to move, eager for the pleasure of her pressing against your walls, the way she hit every single spot perfectly until it drove you wild. You grabbed at her hips and pulled her into you.

She didn’t need any more encouragement, snapping her hips to reach as far back into you as she could. You quivered around her as she moved, pulling for more, more, more.

You were desperate for her, high on the feeling of her inside you, the taste of the sweat that dripped from her collarbone, the way her eyes burned into you then rolled back when a wave of pleasure hit her.

You felt your body winding up for release and chased it, chased it harder than perhaps you ever had, your back arched so high seeking her out that she had to hold your hips down. Unable or unwilling to wait any longer, you reached down to circle your clit with your thumb, moaning as you tensed.

Emily grabbed your hand and held it above your head. You whimpered. “Shh,” she said again, pressing her mouth into yours so deeply that you lost your breath. “Let me.”

She kept thrusting, kept hitting that spot she knew would drive you nearly over the edge, until you were nearly begging for it.

“Emily, please,” you gasped.

Finally, finally, she pressed her thumb to your clit–and that was all it took. You exploded, clenching rhythmically around her as you threw your head back. She swallowed your moans with her lips, fucking you through your orgasm and bringing you back down as you jerked and then fell limp against the bedsheets, spent and flushed red.

You breathed heavily, still shaking as Emily pulled out of you. She placed a kiss on your overstimulated clit and you groaned, pulling her mouth to yours. Emily smiled at you, brushing a sweaty strand of hair out of your face.

“Jesus, Em,” you breathed. “I don’t think I’ve ever come harder.”

“Well, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you hornier,” she chuckled, kissing your head and cheek, then laying next to you, and pulling you in, her hands once again caressing the rise of your stomach.

You blushed. “It’s the hormones.”

“Well, I’m certainly not complaining,” she said, smiling, placing another small kiss on the tip of your nose.

You scrunched and grinned. Emily resumed staring at you, and she looked almost sad.

“You okay?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbow and placing a gentle hand on her cheek.

“You’re just so beautiful. I mean, you’re always beautiful, but…” She looked down at your stomach, then pulled you into her so you could rest your head on her chest and she could run her fingers up and down your spine. She sighed. “I just really love you.”

You stared into her eyes, running your tongue along the inside of your bottom lip. “Keep that up, you’ll have to fuck me again.”

She grinned at you, smug, and held your face gently as she kissed you. “You’re beautiful,” she said again. “So beautiful. And your body.” She groaned. "I love your body."

“You do?” you cheesed.

“You do things to me,” Emily finished, pushing her tongue through your lips.

Your body started tingling again, and you grabbed at her waist, pulling her into you. “God,” you breathed. “It’s gonna be a long night.”

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss drabble #emily prentiss smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

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noosayog · 1 year ago

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[my first task!] ft. miya atsumu

synopsis: inspired by the series, Old Enough? basically, in Japan, it's common practice to entrust a toddler an errand to perform all by themselves, such as fetching something from the store. sometimes, in a small village or closely knit neighborhood, all the shopkeepers and neighborhood residents are aware of when the toddler will be out and all work together to watch over them and guide them.

wc: 2.6k

“Are ya sure she has to do this today?”

“‘Tsumu, we’ve already done all the preparation. Let’s just let her try, hm?”

He grumbles, but moves to his assigned location at the dining table, where your daughter is already sitting, swinging her legs in anticipation of her favorite Omurice lunch.

You bring the plates of food over to the table and set one down at each of your seats. You give Atsumu a pointed look which he ignores. You clear your throat and give him a hard nudge.

“Ow,” he complains. He gives you one last pleading look which you leave unanswered.

He sighs and recites his scripted lines. “Oh honey, what about the ketchup drawings?” he asks you in monotone.

You tap a finger at your chin, looking up at the ceiling to feign deep thought. “Oh no! I think we ran out of ketchup!” You bring a palm up to cover your mouth, gaping open in dismay.

“No ketchup drawing? How can I possibly eat Omurice without the ketchup drawing?”

“Oh no,” you turn to your daughter. “We can’t have Omurice without ketchup can we?”

“No, we can’t!” your daughter exclaims.

“Well baby, do you think you can go to the store and get some ketchup for us? Just like how you do it when you go with Mommy.”

Her eyes sparkle with excitement at the prospect of going out. “Me?”

“Yep, Daddy and I are so busy, we can’t go. Can we rely on you?”

“Sure!” she chirps.

So a few short moments later, you and Atsumu have strapped her little purse on her torso, containing just enough coins to purchase a bottle of ketchup and a card with your phone number on it, just in case. Atsumu laces her shoes up and gives her a kiss on the cheek. You think you see his eyes misting over.

You speak up. “Just to the store we always go to, okay? Mommy’s counting on you!” This was supposed to have been Atsumu’s line, but you can tell that the dam is about to burst so you help him out.

“You’ll do great,” he chokes out. “I’ll see you when you come home with ketchup so Daddy can have his Omurice. Okay?”

She nods, enthusiastic and completely unaware of Atsumu’s turmoil. With that, she’s out the door and Atsumu barely waits one minute before he’s following, sticking to his own plan to trail her on her first errand.

The route has been prepped ahead of time. All the neighbors and the local store owners have been informed of your daughter’s first errand to ensure her success. In addition, all of Atsumu’s teammates, old and new, showed up to guide her along.

So as Atsumu trails behind her toddling figure, hiding comically behind fences and walls, there’s really no need for him to intervene.

She first passess the local cafe, where Bokuto, Hinata, and Sakusa sit at a table strategically located by the open window facing the sidewalk. As she walks by, she recognizes them instantly, straying from her path to the store. Bokuto sits her on his lap while Hinata listens to her babble and Sakusa buys her an apple juice. After a couple minutes of chatting, Sakusa gently pats her and asks, “so why are you out here by yourself?”

“Oh!” she clammors out of Bokuto’s arms, suddenly remembering that she was supposed to be out on a mission. “I’m going to the store to buy ketchup for Mommy and Daddy. They’re counting on me.”

Hinata nods profusely. “You better be off then!”

“You should finish your juice first, though. Adults don’t waste food,” Sakusa tells her.

She nods, happy to sip the remaining juice from the cup, then sets on her way afoot.

The trio at the cafe watch her go, shaking their heads when they notice their setter conspicuously following close behind.

Next is Onigiri Miya.

Well, technically, next was supposed to be the florist on the main street, but the little Miya had seen the street that Onigiri Miya is on and took the turn out of habit. But no matter – you and Atsumu had foreseen this, so a team is at the ready there too.

Suna sits at the counter seat closest to the door to keep watch. When he sees her rounding the corner, he signals Osamu who comes out from behind the counter to greet her at the door.

“Heya, baby,” picking up her easily when she runs into her Uncle’s arms.

“Hi Uncle ‘Samu! Hi Rin-chan!” She greets Suna over Osamu’s shoulder.

Suna grins, “hey stink.”

“‘M not stinky!”

Osamu carries her into the restaurant and deposits her on the counter seat next to Suna’s. He rounds back into the kitchen where he begins shaping a miniature version of her favorite onigiri. She kicks her feet, completely at ease in the restaurant and blissfully forgetful of her task at hand. When the plate is deposited in front of her, she chirps out a quick thank you before digging in.

After chatting Suna up for a bit, Osamu finally cuts in.

“So, what are ya doing out here all by yourself?”

“Dunno!” she giggles.

Suna coughs a bit, giving Osamu a look which Osamu returns pointedly.

“Soooo… you decided to have lunch here without your dad and mom?”

She ponders this for a bit, before lighting up. “Oh yeah! Mommy made Omurice but Daddy forgot to buy the ketchup so I’m here to get it.”

Osamu’s eyes widen comically. “All by yourself?”

She nods sagely. “‘M a big girl now. Mommy is countin’ on me.”

“Well, ya better get going then. Yer silly dad will be waitin’ for ya.”

She agrees, hopping her to her feet. The two follow her to the door to see her off, holding the door open for her walk through. She gets halfway back the way she came when she turns around and grins toothily at the two.

“Thanks for the onigiri, uncle! Love ya!”

Osamu smiles and waves her off. Behind him, Suna holds out his phone, pointing the camera at the little girl’s retreating back, making sure to focus on the suspicious figure donning sunglasses, a mask, and MSBY jackals baseball cap tailing her. He sends it to the group chat warning the next team to watch out for a stalker.

Your daughter finds her way back to the intersection on the main road. She needs to take a left to continue her route to the supermarket. As she stands at the crossroads, she frowns, not quite remembering where she needs to go. She takes a right.

There, she bumps into the legs of Kageyama and Hoshiumi who are stationed at the intersection.

“Sorry,” she starts, craning her neck to get a better look at her obstacles.

“No worries,” Kageyama says, taking a step back.

Hoshiumi then strikes up a conversation with Kageyama, reading out the practiced lines.

“Hey, we need to go to the supermarket right?”

Your daughter’s ears perk up at that.

“Yeah. It’s that – ” Kageyama points dramatically “– way.”

“Ohhhh, I see,” Hoshiumi puts a hand up to theatrically mimic covering his eyes from the sun and squints the way Kageyama is pointing.

Your daughter nods to herself at that and turns around to walk in the correct direction this time.

When she gets far enough away, Hoshiumi shows Kageyama the text in the group chat.

“Stalker?” Kageyama reads, scrunching his face. “Should we –”

“Nah,” Hoshiumi cuts him off and points at the stalker in question, going the same way the little girl just went.

“Ah.” Tobio understands, noticing the peek of dyed blond hair from under the baseball cap.

At last, she arrives at the grocery store. This is familiar ground, so she wanders into the store and meanders the aisles, getting distracted by the array of colors in the snack section. She’s running her hands along all the biscuit options, contemplating how she can fit all the items she wants in her two hands when she hears someone clear their throat from above her.

This time, it’s Aran who waves a gentle hello to her.

“Aran-kun!” she exclaims, forgetting about the snacks and running up to hug his legs.

He chuckles and pats her head.

“Hi there. Are ya looking for something in particular?”

Once again, she thinks. She’s sure there must be a reason she’s in the store but can’t quite remember.

“I think so?”

“Hm, okay. Wanna go shopping with me until you remember what yer looking for?”

“M’kay!”

She grabs Aran’s hand and swings them as he guides her to the aisle with the condiments. There, she inspects the colorful array of sauces, eyes sparkling. Aran pretends to look for his own items, hovering a hand over the ketchup bottles and waving his fingers in the general area until she remembers. Her eyes hone in on the red bottle and she remembers her poor father, still unable to eat his lunch without ketchup.

“Aran-kun! I’m here for ketchup!”

“‘That so? Well, here ya go, then.” He picks up the bottle of the brand he knows you use and plops it right into her hands.

“Not this one,” she shakes her head. “Mommy wants that one.”

She points at the bottle next to the one Aran grabbed. They’re identical.

Unbothered, Aran switches out the bottle in her hands with the one she wants. “Sorry ‘bout that. All good now?”

“Yep!”

“Ready to go check out, then?”

She nods. He continues to walk her to the registers. Once the lines are in sight, she lets go of his fingers and darts over to the nearest line. But not before bowing a polite thank you to Aran.

At the register, she greets the attendant watching him scan the bottle and showing her the total amount owed.

“That’ll be 200 yen.”

She reaches into her purse and pours out all the coins onto the counter, not entirely sure what she needs to offer. The cashier picks out a few coins and deposits the rest back into her coin purse, allowing her to tuck the coin purse back into her bag and zip the purse securely before asking if she wants a bag.

“Yes, please!”

With a plastic baggie in hand, she makes her way to the exit. Aran catches her before and tucks a small box of pocky into her bag, pushing a finger to his lips and winking at her. “Keep it a secret from yer mom. Get home safe!”

She mimics his gesture and nods. With one last bear hug to Aran’s legs, she’s off.

Outside the store, Kita waits for her. She spots his white hair easily. Of all her uncles (excluding Osamu, of course), Kita is her favorite. She runs over to him, bag swinging carelessly behind her. Kita catches her and gives her a little spin before setting her back on the ground.

“Hiya, Uncle Shin!”

“Hey there. What’cha got in there?” he asks, pointing at the bag.

“Ketchup! Daddy forgot to buy more and he can’t eat Omurice without it, so Mommy’s countin’ on me to get it.”

Kita rests a hand on her head. “That’s real impressive of ya, to come to the store to get it all by yourself.”

She glows in his praise, rare but genuine.

“Going home now, Uncle Shin.”

“Alright,” he responds. “I need something from that way, so I’ll walk ya part ways.”

She beams and follows Kita in the direction of your home.

“Uncle Shin?”

“Yeah, bug?”

“Can I eat my pocky? Aran-kun bought it for me.”

He crouches down to her eye level. “Can I have some?” he asks seriously.

“Yeah!”

“Then, alright. But let’s go sit down at that bench over there, okay? It’s rude to eat and walk.”

“Okay!”

So the two take a detour, sitting at the bench to watch the birds hobble by while sharing the box of strawberry pocky. A certain stalker watches in envy from behind the trees.

Once the box is depleted, Kita wipes her fingers down with some wet wipes he keeps in his pocket and tosses out the trash. They continue on their way, Kita sticking with her until they pass the confusing intersection (where Kageyama and Hoshiumi bow slightly at the sight of Kita) and the cafe (where the MSBY trio nod in acknowledgement).

When the house is only a couple more feet away, Kita once again crouches down. “Alright, I gotta go my own way from here. Do ya think ya can make it home all by yourself?”

“Yep, thanks Uncle Shin!”

“Sure. I’m proud of ya, bug.”

She squirms a bit, overwhelmed by the praise she gets from her favorite uncle. The ketchup bounces in its bag by her side as she skips all the way back home.

After fishing out her own key and unlocking the front door, Atsumu is there to greet her at the genkan, scoping her up and squeezing her tight, the ketchup bag forgotten on the floor.

“There’s my girl!”

“Daddy!” she laughs.

“Welcome home,” you greet, tummy warming at the sight of your two Miyas.

“Mommy!” she squirms in Atsumu’s arms signaling for him to let her down. He obliges and she picks up the plastic bag to wave in your face. “I got the ketchup! Now daddy can eat his lunch!”

“Wow, great job! And all by yourself!”

You usher her over to the table as she babbles about her day.

“I saw Shoyo-chan, Bokkun, Omi-chan, Uncle ‘Samu, Rin-chan, Aran-kun, and Uncle Shin too!”

“Wow, sounds like you had a great day. Did you have fun?”

“Yep!”

Atsumu, who has since changed out of his stalker gear, slumps into his seat at the table, back to grumbling about his cold omurice and how it would’ve still been hot if he had quickly gone with his daughter to get it.

You throw him a bone by asking your daughter, “Did you miss Daddy on your trip?”

“What do you mean?”

You almost choke out a laugh; kids are ruthless sometimes.

“Why would I miss Daddy? He was there the whole time.”

Atsumu sputters. “What do ya mean? I was at home waiting for ya the whole time.”

“Daddy’s a liar,” she whispers in your ear. “I saw him, but he was wearin’ some weird clothes. Like covering his face.”

You break into a fit of giggles. “Your daddy’s really silly, isn’t he?”

Atsumu can hear everything. “Hey!”

“Daddy was following you because he was just a bit worried about you going by yourself. But he’s really proud of you. Right?”

Atsumu rounds the table to crouch besides your daughter’s seat. “Yeah. But you did so well. I’m so proud of ya.”

Her eyes light up at the praise. She throws her arms around his neck and wiggles in her seat a bit.

“Well, great job and since you got the ketchup for us, all your favorite uncles can now join us for lunch too.”

At that, each of today’s helpers emerge from the kitchen holding their own plates of Omurice, all undecorated. You figure it might be a good time to introduce her to Kageyama and Hoshiumi too, but she’s distracted by Kita and Osamu offering their omelets to her to decorate with the ketchup.

As she goes around the table and draws ketchup hearts and stars on each omelet, you wander over to Atsumu’s side whose eyes are getting watery again, watching her brag to each of them that the ketchup they’re about to eat is her ketchup.

“What’s wrong, ‘Tsumu?”

“Nothin,” he hastily swipes at his eyes. “‘M not crying.”

“I never said you were,” you say gently. You wind your arm around his waist and lean into him, rubbing circles into his back. His body closes around you instinctively.

“She’s just growing up so fast, ya know.”

“I know.”

“Soon, she won’t need me – us – anymore.”

“Aww, ‘Tsumu. Yeah, she’ll grow up but…”

He looks at you when you trail off.

You reach up to whisper in his ears. “We could always just make another one.”

#noos writes #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #hq x reader #hq x you #hq x y/n #hq fluff #hq imagines #miya atsumu #atsumu miya #miya atsumu x you #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu fluff #atsumu miya x reader #hq atsumu

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rorywritesjunk · 1 year ago

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I felt the need to elaborate on Buggy as the Ultimate Girl Dad, because I am loving every Buggy as a Dad fic I've come across and decided to add into it. It's a mix of head canons and fic of all eight daughters and when they were born. Also can be read as anime Buggy or OPLA Buggy!

Rating: PG-13 because innuendos. Warnings: Childbirth, mentions of a difficult labor. A/N: I had a lot of fun just thinking up names for all eight daughters.

Buggy’s Eight Daughters

The first daughter, Lil Buggy (Lil or LB for short) is a clone of her dad in looks and personality. The first to inherit his nose (much to his distress) and the first one to really experience ship life. When she was two weeks old, Buggy bound her to his body while climbing up to the crow’s nest of his ship so he could show her the views of the sea. You nearly killed him for that. And while Buggy wanted to name her Buggy Junior, or BJ for short, you killed that idea immediately.

“I don’t want BJ for her nickname. People may make fun of her!” You said as Buggy walked around your room with the newborn, keeping her close to him as he gazed down at her.

“But come on, that’s what started that night we had when she was conci-” He looked up with a smirk and you resisted throwing a pillow at him. Not while he was holding the baby.

“Buggy!”

Mae was the second daughter. She was born with a full head of bright blue hair and your nose. Unlike her older sister, she was a bit easier. She was born when LB was about to turn 2, and well, older sister wasn’t too sure how to feel about a new baby joining the family. Surprisingly, Buggy noticed his daughter having more tantrums and generally being a terror since she wasn’t getting all of her parents’ attention, so he took to carrying her on his back while Mae would be strapped on his front, being the Ultimate Pirate Dad. He just had to remember LB was on his back when he sat down (which he sometimes did forget she was there because she often fell asleep back there).

“Oof, daddy!” A tiny voice squealed from behind him. It took Buggy a moment to realize LB was on his back again, so he jumped up from his seat and turned his head around to look at her.

“What are you doing back there?!” He asked, always sounding surprised. She fixed him with a glare that was so like his own it was a little terrifying. He got her off his back and sat back down in his seat, holding her into his lap while he turned his head back around to face his crew.

Cherry and Apple were next. Buggy wasn’t there when they were born. He was off dealing with the Strawhats, and while you never chose a name for the babies until a few days later, you took one look at them and decided on the names. Just like their oldest sister, the two of them had Buggy’s nose, and well, you thought the names would be as cute as their bright red noses. Cherry was the more daring of the two. Buggy literally had to keep one hand ready to grab her in case she decided to go overboard or climb up ropes on the ship. Apple was a little more cautious, choosing to stick near you more often than not. While Cherry was happy to join her father with the circus shows, Apple stayed off to the sides to watch.

“You named them what?” Buggy asked as he held newborn Apple in his arms. “Why?!”

“The names just popped in my head, Buggy!” You insisted as you cradled Cherry against your bare skin. “Besides, the names are perfect for them! Look at their little noses, like bright red apples and cherries!”

Buggy wasn’t sure how he felt about you comparing the inherited nose to fruit, but he wasn’t about to argue with a woman who’d already birthed four children, three of which had that same nose.

Another set of twins came a year and a half later. Buggy decided having a midwife on board may be ideal since he couldn’t seem to stop getting you pregnant (not that you were complaining, it was split 50/50 who initiated these things). He was there this time. Lil Buggy and Mae helped with the names for their sisters. When you and Buggy sat the four girls down to tell them about having another sibling, Lil Buggy had pointed out the rainbow in the distance and Mae asked if that would be the new baby’s name. Buggy looked like would cry at that.

“Wait, twins, again?!” Buggy exclaimed as he was handed the first baby. “We were expecting just one!”

“Sometimes the other one stays a secret, Captain.” The midwife replied calmly as she helped with the next one. “Better start thinking of a second name.”

Yea, right. When Cabaji let the four girls into the room once you were ready, Mae and Lil Buggy looked at the two twin girls before looking up at their parents.

“Rain and Bow!” Both insisted. You were too tired to disagree and Buggy was still in shock, especially since they had his nose again. He was wondering if he needed to propose marriage to you for birthing six kids already.

Buggy indeed proposed to you. It was flashy, with cannons, fire, and all six daughters running around with sparklers. You said yes because while you loved the flashy fool, you also wanted to douse the sparklers before something caught fire.

Six daughters already. When Lil Buggy was 10, Mae was 8, Apple and Cherry 6, and Rain and Bow not quite 4, you announced one night at dinner that you were, again, pregnant. The reactions were as such:

“That explains a lot.” Buggy grumbled as he looked down at his plate. You glared at him and he followed with, “Explains why you have a radiant glow about you, my love!”

“Again?!” Lil Buggy exclaimed. “Can you two stop? There’s no more room!”

“Why?” Mae asked. “Why do you want more kids?”

“Where do babies come from?” Apple asked, looking at Buggy. He was not ready for this conversation.

“We picked you and Cherry out of a treasure chest, just like your sisters and just like this baby.” Buggy said quickly. “That’s how we get babies. From treasure chests.”

“Oh.” Apple seemed fine with that response but Cherry looked confused.

“Why does mama get fat then?” She asked innocently. Buggy was about to say something but one look from you silenced him.

“Oh my God.” He whined. “Another one?”

Rain and Bow just kept eating while Buggy questioned his life choices in that moment and you looked ready to throw him overboard.

Inheriting his nose stopped with Rain and Bow, but his hair followed his daughters. When you gave birth to the 7th daughter, the family had been carving pumpkins as a fun activity. While some parents would worry about their children holding knives, you were more concerned about your husband with one. You decided to get up and grab some bandages from the midwife when it happened. She took one look at you, sighed, and led you to your room to help you give birth. It happened so quick that Buggy came to look for you after about a half hour and found you with a newborn in your arms.

“How! What?!” His jaw dropped seeing the baby in your arms. You just shrugged as you looked down at the newborn.

“Can we name her Pumpkin?” You asked. “I think it would be a fun story to tell, you know, what we were doing when she was born.”

Buggy wasn’t going to disagree with you.

The eighth and final daughter was born during a storm. Giving birth on the ship while waves crashed along it was not ideal. The other seven girls were hunkered in the room with you while you gave birth. Buggy was holding you while you screamed, threatening to kill him after you were done. This was, by far, the most difficult birth of the girls. Lil Buggy and Mae did what they could to entertain the other girls, hoping to get their attention away from your screams and cries while the ship rocked violently. Hours passed until they heard the cries of a newborn. The storm seemed to pass as well, and Buggy was crying as he held his newest daughter.

Lil Buggy, being the eldest, approached first to look. She saw the blue hair and sighed. “You won’t be able to tell us apart if you saw us all from behind, you know.”

“Yea, well, I’ll learn to tell you brats apart.” Buggy shot back. You were resting, having been given something by the midwife to help you sleep. The labor had been a rough one, and you were going to need your strength to keep up with the family.

“What’s this one gonna be called?” LB asked as she gestured for her sisters to come over. “I think mom needs to stop naming us, she’s getting silly with them.”

“What should we name her?” Buggy asked his eldest, his attention on the sleeping bundle in his arms. He glanced up at her. “I’m asking you.”

LB looked taken aback and scratched her head. “Um… why not… Crash?”

“Crash?” Buggy repeated. He was about to comment that that was silly, but considering what the last few hours were like, he was glad she didn’t go with a weather related name. “Y’know, I think Crash is appropriate.”

Buggy decided as a Rite of Passage for Piracy, his girls would join him in a raid when they turned 14. You knew it was something of importance for him, and you trusted he wouldn’t get them hurt. They could protect themselves as well, and by the time Crash turned 14, each girl had their chance. Buggy deemed them all official crew members when they returned from each raid and always held a party for them. With Crash being the last one to go through with it, Buggy couldn’t help but feel a little sad his girls were all growing up. He wouldn’t get to do those fun “Firsts” again like he had with the others. He would never admit to anyone but you, but he liked being a dad.

A few months after Crash’s raid, and the girls were readying for another fun day of piracy, you pulled your husband aside for a brief meeting.

“Babe, if you want me, just ask. We don’t have to sneak around.” Buggy teased as his hands went to your waist, a big grin on his face. You put both hands on his cheeks and tilted his head down so you could look him in the eyes.

“Sneaking around is what caused this, Buggy.” You told him. “I’m pregnant.”

The scream from the clown was heard all over the ship and no doubt all around the seas.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown opla #buggy x reader #buggy the clown headcanon #buggy the clown x you #buggy x you #one piece headcanons #lmao i had lot of fun coming up with names #buggy opla

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neoplatinum · 9 months ago

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can't remember to forget you - shakira | son chaeyoung

summary: is this love behind closed doors enough

pairing: guitarist!chaeyoung x fem!reader

themes: highschool au, weed, cigarettes, angst, fluff, music festival, rest of twice!, minor 2yeon, jooyeon and o.de from xdinary heroes

wc: 4.0k

a/n: FOR MY POOKIE WOOKIE CHAE'S POOKUMS (@nr1chaedickrider)

“do you know why she always carries that guitar?” momo’s watching chaeyoung walk across the field. that familiar brown guitar case strapped to the back of the girl’s back. like an attachment to her body. quick paces as she crosses the lawn with fishnets and platform boots on, layers of necklaces bouncing along in time with her steps.

that signature dark lipstick.

damn, she does look good.

you look away from her, trying your best to concentrate since the start of lunch.

“she told me it’s her soulmate.” sana says back, digging into her jacket for a sweet candy, continuing to watch as chaeyoung crosses the field towards the other end of the school. popping a small chocolate in her mouth. “don’t know what that means.”

then sana looks down at you.

“hey you’re friends with her right?”

you’ve been gripping your homework since momo spoke of her name. taking everything in you to stay still and not watch as your not-girlfriend walks past where you sat. and she knows exactly where you sit everyday for lunch, she knows this exact route like the back of her hand. but still she chooses to walk past it, she used to stop and wave to you discreetly before leaving. instead she’s plugged into her headphones and walking right into the building.

“yeah, chaeyoung.” you just respond, trying to read the biology homework in front of you. terms turning into characters when you try to re-read the same question. but you can’t focus when your not-girlfriend has been ignoring you lately.

“right, that’s her name!” momo exclaims. then sana and her are back to bickering like siblings, all the while you’re trying to read this question again.

the cell cycle?

sana and momo, god knows why, have managed to flip themselves onto the grass and have their hand in each other’s hair pulling at it. legs and arms all over the place like they’re stuck to each other. you watch them briefly, trying to scratch each other’s faces. without missing a beat you turn back to your paper.

trying to refocus on the homework. anaphase…anaphase?

writing a few more lines across the page and munching on momo’s apple slices. you find yourself thinking about that stupid fight a week ago. you visited chaeyoung in her room, strumming her black guitar in her living room. weed filling the air as she tried different chords for her latest piece. one that she was discreet about.

you had visited her after she called you asking for a smoke sesh. and who are you to deny yourself the wonders of that green bud.

more than anything, you love the haziness of watching her play her guitar. especially when she plays that electric one she keeps tucked away in her closet. the shine of that black and white electric over the body and her tattooed arms expertly bending notes. dark hair falling over her face, while she closes her eyes and just lets her hands play freely.

hand flowing along the neck of the guitar, landing fingers in different, other hand holding a lit joint between her fingers. the smoke rising to the air. you feel your eyelids heavier as you lean backwards in the loveseat.

watching the way the body is laid on her thigh, adjusting her playing every couple of seconds. sometimes playing the metal bar for some vibrato, the sounds ringing bending the sound through your ears. she knows how it sounds when she plays it, looking at you with a smirk as you take another hit.

her eyes are low too, she always felt like her musicality shines when she’s not in her head. letting the playing speak for herself. coupled with the blue LED in her room, you think she’s gorgeous. a sight reserved for yourself. exactly why you are stuck here nearly every night, out of your own will of course.

admiring the art that is son chaeyoung. even more of a treat you can listen to the art she produces.

“you smoke?” you stuff your hand into your pocket, looking up suddenly. seeing chaeyoung hiding out behind the back of the school. after ditching class you were looking to just relax away from school, rounding out the back of the school. trying to jump the gate out back. and here stood in front of you was son chaeyoung. the last girl you would want to talk to her.

she keeps to herself in class, usually doodling or plugged into her earbuds. never speaking up, but you didn’t judge. here she is behind the school, flicking the ash off the end of her cig, earbuds in and a lock necklace dangling as she continues to stare at you. crouched down and phone in hand. her guitar case propped against the brick wall.

she stares expectantly.

you don’t even know what to say, knowing her for barely a year and never speaking more than two words. she takes another puff, pushing her lips into a circle before aiming the smoke right into your face.

immediately you step backwards, eyes stinging a bit from the cloud. the grittiness hitting your eyes, making you rub them and then you’re coughing a bit. the smoke hitting the back of your throat. chaeyoung laughs a little, staring up at you. you finally look at her again after wiping your eyes.

“want to try?” she says pushing herself up, holding the cigarette out a bit. you stare at the lit bud, her painted nails, all black. and the way her hand is covered in silver rings. each one more intricate than the last. you nod lightly. looking back up at her.

her eyes are dazzling too, little browns under the sunlight. you completely forget what you said yes to. she brushes her hand through her hair, pushing it back. and then she pulls you towards her, hand around your neck, pulling you in like a magnet. other hand reaching towards herself, taking a breath in of the smoke. your eyes in a trance as the lit bud lights with orange and reds. then she takes it away.

her hand on your neck, snaking around to your chin, thumb pressed on your chin. until you drop your jaw. letting her move you like a puppeteer. eyes staring at your lips, blowing the smoke right into your mouth. letting that dark smell fill your mouth once more. the airiness of her breath makes your hair stand.

woah.

then she pushes her thumb up, closing your breath once more.

“breathe it out.”

you let it flow out of you, that putrid smell making you scrunch your nose. she watches you amusingly, like a newborn deer taking its first steps. you barely know what you’re doing, it’s kind of cute.

then she returns that hand back to your neck, dragging you in for a kiss. one that makes your body freeze all over. your senses are all failing when all you can feel is her tender lips on your own. a hand pulling you in closely, and the smell of that awful cigarette between you two. she lets go of you, amusement still filling her face.

you step back. she throws the case right over her shoulder and walks away from you, rounding the corner of the wall. you barely catch the sight of her guitar case when your body returns back to you. a curiosity building within you.

you’re trying your best to listen in, an ear pressed against the door. she’s always in this music room, room 202. every single lunch she’s here, using the school amp to play her music. you know this because you’re the only one she’s told you about this spot. made you swear to secrecy, if anyone else were to find out that she played here, it would ruin her charm as she says.

like an obedient dog, you agreed. she doesn’t let you inside though, she never does. feeling so dumb for waiting outside like a kicked puppy, you’re ready to leave when you hear her singing.

since when was she able to sing?

a soft voice pulling at your heart, how you long to hear her voice again. standing outside with your hands stuffed into your pockets. listening to the girl in your heart vocalize through the confined walls.

you walk away from the room, tucking a cigarette between your lips as you walk outside.

some days are better than others, good days are when you can visit chaeyoung in her garage. watching her slide her hands across her favorite guitar. admiring the artwork draping the walls, like a cavern of her mind. a constant reminder of her artistic style and creativity.

stepping into the garage you can already smell the weed that’s been circulating the air. taking a second to breathe in that familiar scent before closing the garage door right behind you. chaeyoung is sat on her favorite amp. littered in her own artwork and spray paint by the lovely artist herself.

her head tilted down as she continued to play through different chords, each one prettier than the last. a pick between her lips as she concentrates on nailing the next measure. she’s beautiful like this, her favorite bunny tucked right at the base of the amplifier.

tossing the backpack onto her worn couch, you plop right in front of her. watching the way her nail polish shines in the lowlight of an old studio light. she gives you a small nod as she continues to play. eyes never leaving yours, even as her hands move quickly along the guitar.

you grab the joint that’s been lying next to her, taking a deep hit as she watches you. red across the whites in her eyes.

you lean back, letting the smoke go up, watching the cloud in the air as she continues to play. until she stops. setting the guitar down on her stand. and grabbing your hand, pulling you up.

“i missed you.” she explains, grabbing ahold of your neck, pulling you against her.

you let your body fall against hers, laying your head against her shoulders. her arms moving to wrap around your. both of you slowly rocking in her garage.

“i missed you too chaeyoung.” you reply softly. letting the weight of today off your body. and she continues to sway you in her arms. it’s warm, her hugs are always so warm. and today more than anything you need her near.

“tell me about your day.” she says softly, letting you continue to lean against her.

“it was tiring, you know how work usually is.” you explain, pulling her against you as you wrap your arms around hers too. “oh you missed it, jeongyeon confessed to nayeon today.”

you stand back up, and chaeyoung stares at you, nodding slowly as she sits into the couch. grabbing her favorite strawberry glass cup as she drinks it.

“good for them.” she says, placing the cup back onto the coffee table. you watch the way she stares at her guitar. reddish eyes that don’t look at yours.

sitting down next to her she barely lifts an inch to look at you. busy grabbing her music papers off the ground. stuffing them into her folder as she leans back. and you do the same. letting your eyes watch the ceiling fan. a constant rotating, almost like it’s stuck in a loop. and really you can feel yourself feeling the same.

the way that all you can do is wave at chaeyoung at school. restricted to the confines of these four walls to showcase your affection to your girlfriend. a reminder that the relationship that you two have only exists in this small space.

“chaeyoung, i want to be official.” you say gently, head turned to the side as you watch her side profile.

“baby, we are official.” she says, taking a hit from her joint.

“not to other people we aren’t.” you say, looking at her folded hands and the light thumping of her foot. “you won’t hold my hand in public, you won’t kiss me in public. why’s that?”

chaeyoung stares at you, eyes more opened as she watches you.

“why won’t you let my friends know about us?” you say with a bite. watching the way she continues to stare at you. lost in her own thoughts to offer up a response.

“i thought what we had here is okay.”

“i want more chaeyoung, you knew this.”

you explain, watching the slight twitch in her eyebrows.

the fiddling of her hands on her shirt.

“i don’t know.” you hear, and just like that you grab your backpack, tossing it over your shoulder as you exit the garage.

ignoring the pain in your chest as chaeyoung doesn’t bother to call out to you.

jeongyeon and nayeon are bickering like idiots in front of you. trying to step on each other’s calves to make each other fold over. you want to join in with them but lately, the fight with chaeyoung (if you can even call it that) has taken over your mind. instead you stand quietly next to mina. both of you watching the two girls, your arms folded over each other as you both walk in line for the music festival.

a little buzzing throughout your body.

the line continues to move forward and you can hear the distant music in the background. the loud chatter of everyone in line along with people lining the fields distracting you from the loneliness that’s been erupting in your heart.

drowning out the sounds like a muffled speaker, until your feet reach the front of the line. a fellow classmate staring at your student ID expectantly. a scanner in their hand, and you show it to them. taking a second to look at the enclosed festival space. with a quick scan, you move forward into the area. a large open field crowded with excited students buzzing at the talents that will be showcasing their skills on stage tonight.

the heat beating on your skin, a light layer of sweat setting. the smell of grilled foods enticing the senses of jeongyeon and nayeon. them waving you and mina as they stumble away to the food stands.

mina’s pulling you through the crowd, slotting you two in a small open space. eyes forwards towards the stage. the sight of the fellow classmates on stage, pushing and placing microphones around the stage. long metal pipes laid around the giant black stage, light strobes hung along the top facing the performers.

you keep picking at your skin, quickly grabbing a cigarette to slot between your lips. not lighting it but keeping it between your teeth as you roll it around. looking around hopefully for a head of blonde hair and that signature guitar case. instead you spot momo and sana in the back, giggling with each other before jumping to scare an unsuspecting jihyo.

you turn back around facing the stage. arms crossed as your eyes land on everyone huddled closely. tapping your finger against your phone as you beg for it to vibrate. anything for a sign of thought from chaeyoung. she hasn’t answered your message from days ago, a clear indication she was retreating back into her shell.

one that you often have to pull her out of, it’s just worse knowing that you are the reason why she’s retreating back.

you take another at the stage when you begin to notice the lights starting up, like a strobe light illuminating the dark stage. and out steps the administration, welcoming in the school spring festival.

you stare at your fellow classmates, some band members you can remember from your class. there’s jooyeon and o.de from english, along with their bandmates. eyes gleaming in the sun as they await their set.

the crowd shouts as they continue their set. and through all the pop rock songs the sun continues to set into the night. the low buzz of people talking and laughing filling the night air. jeongyeon, nayeon and jihyo promptly rejoining you in the crowd of people. softly singing along to the covers of the songs.

you watch as jeongyeon has her arms wrapped around nayeon. keeping her swaying in her arms. a deep feeling of longing in your heart as you stare at them. you even begin to feel a tear form before you snap out of it. the wind picking up as you continue to sing with mina. jooyeon and o.de giving their ending remarks and exiting offstage.

you turn to mina, offering her a light smile when she sees your distraught face all throughout the set.

while you’re busy reassuring mina that you’re okay, a head of blonde enters the stage. jihyo and jeongyeon are busy fussing and bumping into you. making you turn your sight to chaeyoung up on stage. the dark lipstick that she always sports on her face. along with that guitar pick necklace you gifted her as one of your first gifts.

the red of the mic in her hand and that guitar that she treasures most.

you wonder if she treasures you in the same way.

people have begun to notice her on stage. everyone knows of chaeyoung, but few knew her truly. they didn’t know how she liked to sleep with that exact bunny by her side every night. they didn’t know the way she liked her coffee. they certainly didn’t know about that tattoo on her back. they don’t know how hard she pours her heart into every song she makes.

they don’t know her like you do.

she takes center stage, eyes a little weary as she stares into the crowd. letting them sweep across the crowd. biting on her guitar pick as she stares out. and with a small huff she sits herself on the wooden stool. taking the time to adjust the mic stand. guitar laying on her body gently.

a reminder of every little ritual that you see when chaeyoung plays her guitar, all in front of your school to see.

staring at her as your body stills. not even the sight of jihyo and nayeon in your peripheral vision distracting you from your girlfriend.

“hello, i’m chaeyoung.” she scoots herself further back onto the stool. you can hear the cheers from the crowd. they’ve never seen her perform in public in all the years that she’s carried that guitar on her back.

everyone’s begging for a glimpse into what you admire so often.

“i know a lot of you have seen me with my guitar and wondered what i sing about? what i play about? who i play for?” she says, eyes continuing to stare into the crowd. she stutters a bit when her eyes land on you. hand gripping onto the red mic a little tighter.

“this song that i wrote, i wrote this based on my own feelings, and i wrote it for someone. please listen.” she says, taking a deep breath as she tucks a leg over another. letting the guitar rest it’s curve onto her thigh as she adjusts herself.

“this song is called ‘cant remember to forget you’, please enjoy.”

there’s light cheers and whistles as chaeyoung readies herself.

and I left a note on my bedpost

saying not to repeat yesterday's mistakes

what I tend to do when it comes to you

her voice rings out clearer than the sound of water drops. the speakers hitting your ears as if she’s singing it to you. like all things that remind you of chaeyoung, one thing is the constant sticky notes in her room. dedicated to remembering the things that she cherishes most, one of which was the first note that she wrote to you, asking you to be her girlfriend.

her eyes closed as she feels the music, hands moving along the guitar, and you can feel it, the emotions through her singing. a deep feeling as she nearly gets choked up. pushing through it to continue to sing. everyone around is swaying to her playing.

her eyes landing on yours once more.

she’s singing this to you.

only to you.

the way you make me feel, yeah

you got a hold on me, i never met someone so different

the way she continues to slide her hands over the different frets. standing up quickly when she feels the emotions running through her too. eyes ablaze as she pours into her emotions. people are getting into the song, everyone’s cheering loudly and staring at her. but she can only focus on you. the way tears are falling off your face. the way the lights shine on your face.

this song was made for you.

and only you.

the only memory is us kissing in the moonlight

oh-oh ooh oh, oh-oh ooh oh

i can't remember to forget you

the memories of running down the sidewalks. laughing loudly as her hands were in yours. a box of takeout in hand and flowers in another. the memory of her slowing you down to give you a kiss under the moonlight.

every memory of your love under the moonlight, or under studio lights. love that only you two knew. tucked away from the world and those around you two. she rocks into the beat of the song, letting her playing get her into the feeling.

the way you make me feel, yeah

you got a hold on me, I never met someone so different

her eyes are shining with tears too as she stares at you, you continue to stare at her. the way she can’t hold herself back when she’s singing. you’ve never heard her so vulnerable and open. a declaration of the feelings that she keeps away from others. and sometimes even you in turn.

there’s tears in her eyes but she keeps singing to you. like all great artists they need a muse, and for chaeyoung.

it’s you.

I can't remember to forget you.

she plays the last note, letting it fizzle out, and then the crowd erupts into a roar. everyone who ever thought she was strange for carrying her guitar everywhere is cheering in admiration. chaeyoung’s a talented artist. you knew this firsthand, but now everyone else knows it too.

the roaring in your ear feels like it’s muted, you can’t even hear them anymore. just the feeling of tears rolling freely, as she stares at you. her breath through the mic as she stares you down. that bunny hung onto the stand. she want you to know this song, it’s only for you.

only for you.

more people are cheering her on, begging for another song, erupting in chants of her name.

“i’m only performing this song. i hope it reached the person i wanted it to reach.” she says. grabbing ahold of her mic, guitar, and tucking the bunny under her arm. taking a short bow before exiting off the stage. using the sleeves of her shirt to wipe the tears off.

mina’s offering a tissue to you silently, and you wipe your tears away as she looks away. a sweet smile on her face as you excuse yourself to find chaeyoung.

eyes a little blurry from the tears as you head off the side of the stage. seeing her blonde hair in the crowd. she looks gorgeous. and then she spots you, running up to you. throwing her arms around you as she pulls you into a kiss.

taking the time to continue to kiss you even as you feel you nearly fall over. loud cheers and gasps as more people spot chaeyoung kissing you fiercely.

she leaves the kiss, eyes still filled with some tears but then she smiles at you.

“is this official enough?” chaeyoung smirks before pulling you into another kiss.

yeah, this is more than enough.

-- a/n: very late chae day fic hahaha !! sorry about that !! this is for my angst luver <33 angst4chaespookums lives on. stay safe and stay healthy everyone

#chaeyoung #chaeyoung x reader #twice chaeyoung #chaeyoung twice #son chaeyoung #twice x you #twice x reader #twice #kpop imagines #angst4chae'spookums #neoplatinum

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writting-for-a-chain-of-heros · 11 months ago

Note

Things Time would do for you if he liked you,

When the old man likes you:

First off if you're a part of the chain & on the younger side you're getting the same treatment as the rest of the boys,which is being an unpredictable canon that switches between stern, soft or goofy, you can never really know what you're going to get from him at any moment.

If you're on the older side he's giving you a lot more of an authoritative respect and might see you as a second in command similar to Warriors & Twilight depending on your capabilities of course.

Relaxes more if you do prove to be capable because that's at least one more person he feels he doesn't have to look after & trust you with bigger tasks/responsibilities in the group especially when the group has to separate

If you're not up to the responsibility then he's fine with you being in charge of less stressful work in the group

But one thing is for certain is that he lets you get away with a lot more than if you were a stranger or someone he wasn't close with.

You can joke and tease him as much as you like (to a limit) as long as you don't go overboard he'll either indulge in amusement or give you the look if he's not in the mood

After every battle he makes sure that you aren't injured & to get you medical help asap; Now to be fair he's this way with anyone he travels with after a battle but if you're someone he cares about he's personally putting his hands on you gently to tend to any injuries and carries you off in his arms(even if you protest to being able to walk on you own) anyways.

Whenever he's out shopping for supplies in the market he makes sure to get something you'd like with his spare rupees especially if he's noticed you've been having a much harder time during the travel recently

He lets you sleep on him when you fall asleep during watch or on his back when he's carrying you after fighting in a dungeon all day.

Depending on how close you two are, he'll sometimes brush the hair out of your face or instead of risking the chance of ruining your rest by trying to move he'll let you sleep against him until you wake up.

He’ll do meaningless tasks repeatedly if you ask him,even if it annoys him he's not going to voice it out if it's somewhat necessary to you but he will help you learn to do it on your own after some point.

If you ask this man to cut your apples for you 46 times he'll cut your apples for you 46 times but he's going to start teaching you how to cut your own apples after the 18th time you've ask in 20 minutes

PRANKS!!

Pranks,Pranks,Pranks,Pranks,Pranks

This man is a pranksters

This man will prank you a lot if he likes you,the minute he's able to be as ridiculouse as he likes around you is when you've reached into being a part of his inner most closest circles, the more silly he is around you the closer you are to him.

A Lot of his pranks are simple and fun with no real harm but they're so sudden/unexpected you're never prepared for them until it's too late.

Hot peppers in your soup

Mud in your shoes in the morning

Sudden jump scares when he sees you're alone.

Finding rocks instead in your rupee pouch

Your pillow case has a cuckoo inside when you go to bed

The strap on your bag & clothes have been tampered with

Your shoes are ties to a branch that drops a bucket of flour on you when you reach to grab them

Despite their unpredictability, luckily for you the pranks are typically far and few between as Time is still a busy person with responsibilities to hold up but that doesn't mean he can't have a little fun tormenting you once & a while.

If you're someone he likes he'll take what you say into deep consideration and respects your input into things more then he's willing to show.

Overall he sees you as someone he can trust and enjoy having in his company with

#linked universe x reader #linked universe #ask #lu time #fluff #headcanons #time x reader

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shopkeepmc · 8 months ago

Text

🌈New Merch Release🌈

Caseplay is releasing a large assortment of phone cases & accessories for the Obey Me brothers! These items are for Japan buyers only for now but most likely be released worldwide later this year!

Caseplay Store

———————————

Merch List:

📱Bunny Outfit Cases

📱RAD Outfit Cases

📱NB Chibi + Ruri Chan Cases

📱D.D.D Mascot Cases

📱Headphone Cases (AirPods/Galaxy)

📱Apple Watch Straps

📱Card Wallets

📱Phone Grips

📱Phone Lanyards

📱& Art Canvas

Each phone case has multiple phone models for each brother!

#obey me #obey me goodies #obey me nb #obey me nightbringer #obey me!#obey me! shall we date?#obey me collab #obey me phone case #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me ruri chan

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spaghettificationandpretzels · 1 year ago

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A Hero's Welcome

I am super duper unhappy with this. I just can't get it right, but if I don't post it, I'll get stuck in a rut. As always, please drop a comment below, they are loved and cherished.

This can be read as a The Way the Stars Love the Heavens one-shot or as a standalone, so you don't need to read my series to read this!!

Contains: Fluff, smut (oral sex M and F receiving, fingering, p in v).

2.2K words of pure smut.

Simon comes back after an op and you're happy to welcome him back to base.

It was the soft sound of his tac boots on the hard floors that gave Simon away. Despite how quietly he would always move, the long days of waiting for him to return to base had left you on edge and listening out for every sound that came by your door.

You didn't want to wait any longer, ladylike behaviour be damned, so when the footsteps got close enough to let you know he was right by your dorm, you yanked him into the room. He was still wearing all his tac gear, and he was already grinning when he laid eyes on you, ever the observant soldier, he must have been ready for your reaching arms the second he heard the creaking of your door. "Well hello lovely, did you miss me?"

You all but ripped his mask off his face and pressed your lips to his as your reply, and Simon smiled against your lips as you started to pull his vest off. Your fingers moved haphazardly, and he grabbed one shoulder strap as it fell from his chest. With the vest discarded, you started on the various weapons strapped to his body, finally needing to break away from his lips and look as the task grew.

"You need a hand?" He watched you remove the knife from his hip, your fingers unfocused and rushed, and you nodded as he unbuckled the holster from his other hip and placed it and the gun it held on the ever-growing pile. You reached towards the small of his back, gripping the wad of metal pressed against his skin and pulled it free from the tiny pouch protecting his body.

You laughed when it came into view, and Simon's easy grin had your heart fluttering. "What the hell do you need a trench knife for? The world wars ended a long time ago, dearest."

"The knuckles detach, you know, in case the knife gets stuck." He took it from you and separated the pieces. "See?"

You shook your head and sighed. "Alright then."

You dropped down to your knees to remove his shoes, and he smiled down at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'm really getting to gold star treatment, aren't I love?"

"Of course." The knife on his left ankle went first, then the gun on his right and you made your way back up his body to take off his belt. He stopped you, wrapping his hand gently around your wrists before placing your hand on his shoulders and leaning down to kiss you. You felt him grip the edge of your shirt and you lifted your arms as he pulled it over your head.

"Fuck you're so fucking beautiful. I'm the luckiest man on Earth." His lips found your neck, and the added roughness of his beard from being in the field for a week without shaving had you taking in a sharp breath as the texture sent shivers down your spine.

His shirt went next, and he took two steps back to accommodate the height you didn't have so you could pull it off his body. You fought back a giggle, and he brushed his fingers over the apple of your cheek as he looked at you fondly. "What it is love."

"I was hoping I'd find a razor blade taped somewhere." The look on his face told you all you needed to know, and your suspicions were confirmed when he started to undo his belt with a smile. You helped him, pushing his camo pants off his hips and down to a pile on the floor. He had something long and impossibly thing strapped to his thigh, and your eyebrows wrinkled in confusion as you went to undo the strap.

"It's a KGB concealed blade, you know, in case of a pat down." Nevertheless, it joined its brothers and sisters on the pile on your table, and Simon thanked you for all your hard work with another kiss as he removed your bra.

You nipped his lower lip, and one hand went from your hip to your breast so he could play with your nipple. He wasn't as gentle as he usually was, and it had you gasping through the kiss as the roughness of his battle-hardened fingers danced across your sensitive skin. You slid your hand down his body and palmed his cock, and he grunted when you rubbed him through the fabric.

You pulled away from his lips and pressed yours to his cheek, then his chin, then you dipped your head to kiss his neck, stopping briefly from sucking a mark on his throat. "I think I should show you how much I missed you."

His tongue darted out to lick his lips as he used his fingertips to draw circles on your breast. "And how are you going to do that, lovely?"

You smiled and slowly dropped to your knees, pressing kisses to his chest and abs as you went. "I have some ideas."

One of his massive hands found the back of your head as you pulled his boxers down. You used the precum beading at the head to slick your way down as you stroked him, and he groaned when you tightened your hand on the upstroke. You smiled up at him before leaning in and licking him from base to tip like an ice cream, and you felt his fingers tense as he stopped himself from digging them into your hair.

You sucked the tip into your mouth, and he took in a breath as the heat of your mouth made his toes tingle. His head fell back, and his breath quickened as you took him further in, one of your hands moving from his hip to play with his balls. He moaned, his chest rumbling as his hand squeezed your shoulder rhythmically.

He started to rock his hips, a slow and steady back and forth that still let you set the pace, and you could tell by the force of the hand on your shoulder that he was holding back. You took your hand off his balls and moved it to the part of his cock that your mouth couldn't reach, and Simon grunted and a breath left his chest. "Fuckin' ell love, you're gonna kill me."

You hummed an affirmative and pulled back, using both your hands to take the place of your mouth. "Death by blow job, what a way to go."

He shook his head and huffed. "You're asking for it now." He pulled your hands off of him and lifted you up by your upper arms, manhandling you to the bed. "What makes you think it's ok to give me so much lip."

You pressed your lips together to stop yourself from laughing, and he took in your expression before ripping your trousers off, the buttons flying everywhere as you protested. "Hey, those were my favourite."

"I'll repair them for you, don't worry love." He knew he would and the vision of him sitting on the bed with a tiny sewing needle in his hand made you giggle. The sound of ripping pulled you away from your thoughts, and you looked towards his hands, there was no way he could fix your panties, he had torn them in two.

He dropped down and knelt on the floor before manhandling you again, throwing your legs over his shoulders and diving in, licking you from entrance to clit as he moaned. He went in like a man eating his last meal, and you knew you would have bruises in the morning with how hard his hand were squeezing your thighs.

With your ass off the edge, Simon had to support the weight of your legs and he took full advantage, using his massive arms to maneuver you so you couldn't move away from growing pleasure as he increased his efforts with his mouth. He dropped one of your legs but shifted to maintain control as his hand slid up your inner thigh and to your core and moved his mouth to focus solely on your clit.

"Fuck, oh fuck." The feeling of his fingers sliding inside you was wonderful, and the slow pace juxtaposed to the enthusiastic one he had taken with his mouth meant that you felt every ridge of his digits. He crooked his fingers to rub your G-spot and you arched toward his mouth as you grew closer to the edge.

You pressed a hand to your mouth to muffle your growing moans, aware that the walls could only keep so much away, and you didn't want your friends to hear how desperate you must have sounded as Simon touched you. Suddenly, everything stopped and the hand he was using to pleasure you was wrapping around your wrist to pull your hand away from your mouth. "None of that Love, I want to hear you."

"But…" You couldn't really think of a response, not when he was looking at you like he wanted to swallow you whole.

"No buts, be good for me Love and let me hear how good I make you feel." He dove right back in, and your fingers gripped the sheets as the sensations picked up exactly where they left off. You tried to muffle the whimpers, but you were rushing towards the peak like a runaway train.

Your hands found his head, and you scratched his scalp and pushed his head into you, and with one more stroke to your G-spot, your vision went white as the pleasure overtook you. The vibrations of his moans only made the feeling stronger, and he didn't seem to mind the way you were yanking his hair as the orgasm slowly faded.

He didn't stop, and you pushed his head away softly as he chuckled. "Simon, enough."

He pulled away and wiped his face with his hand before standing up with a grin. "You right there love?"

You blinked in indignation. "Am I right? What kind of question is that?"

He was smug, his handsome face twinkling with ego. "I'm just making sure."

You yanked him downwards and used the momentum to flip yourself on top of him, his hands moving to your hips as you settled on top of him. "The bed's too small to flip again, so what are you going to do now?"

He ran one hand up and down your leg while the other moved to your cheek to pull you down for a kiss, and he nipped your lower lip as the kiss deepened. He pulled back, only far enough to speak through his smirk. "Absolutely nothing."

You nodded and brought your hand from where it was resting on his chest to wrap around his cock, jacking it a few times before holding it still so you could slide down slowly. He was always just a little too much, but like this, he was overwhelming, hitting every single space you had until it felt like you were going to burst.

You took in a breath and started to rock slowly, moving your hips back and forth while Simon rubbed gentle circles on your thighs with his thumbs. "You're doing so good for me, Love." You bent at the waist and kissed him, and he ran his hands up and down your back as he started to match your pace.

The kiss turned rough, and he bent one knee to gain more leverage as he overtook the pace. You found yourself unable to straighten back up as he angled his hips to hit your G-spot, and then he was taking your hand off his heaving chest and placing it between your legs. "Touch yourself for me, Love."

You did as he asked, rubbing small circles on your clit as he gripped your hips so tight you knew you'd have bruises by the time the night was up. Simon was grunting like an animal as thrusts increased in force, and your body rocked with each one as your skin started to tingle with release once again. Your head fell into the crook of his neck, and his hands moved to the backs of your thighs for more leverage as you started to clench around him.

"Come on Love, I know you're close, I can feel it, just let go for me." You could tell by the glint in his voice that he was close behind you, and your fingers sped up on your clit as he pressed his lips to yours, swallowing your moans like a man starved as you fell over the edge. His hips stuttered and he held you to him as he pulsed inside you.

With his hips still, you rested on top of his chest to catch your breath while he ran his hands over any skin he could reach. "You need anything from me Love?"

You sighed and turned your head so you could rest your ear against his chest as a steady thumb filled your ear. "No dearest." You smiled softly and rubbed his nose with yours. "Welcome back."

He grinned and kissed you, it was full of love and affection, and your heart swelled as he held your face while his lips moved against yours. He pulled back with one last peck and put his forehead on yours with a sigh. "It's good to be back. I love you y/n."

You mirrored his sigh, enjoying the intimate contact as you grew sleepy. "I love you too Simon."

Fin

@chaos-4baby @shuttlelauncher81 @carma-fanficaddict

#simon riley/you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon riley/reader #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #call of duty smut #the way the stars love the heavens

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hippiegoth97 · 1 day ago

Text

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story - Epilogue

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 45

Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafescvntyclubgf @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @songbirdmunson @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @losingmygrasponreality

@mediocredreams @bloodibambiidoll @taintedcigs @ali-r3n @emxxblog

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, mentions of smut, fluff, happy endings for everyone!

Word Count: 2.5k

divider by @strangergraphics

Epilogue: Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now

Two years later, September 3rd, 1992...

"You ready for your first day, love?" Eddie asks from the kitchen. He's packing lunches for the two of you, which consists of sandwiches, apples, and homemade cookies.

"Almost, I can't seem to find my special bag." You call to him, sounding rather frustrated as you search the apartment. Mom bought you a gorgeous leather bag to carry your teaching materials in, with 'Mrs. Munson' etched onto the strap in elegant script. You've been looking forward to using it, now that you've gotten your license to teach and are finally taking over all Hawkins High science classes. It's officially the first day of the 1992-1993 school year, and you've misplaced the one thing that'll keep you from losing your head today.

"Hold on, I'll help ya find it." Eddie replies as he finishes up, closing the lunch boxes once everything is placed inside nicely. He brings them to the living room, finding you bent over the couch as you search behind it. If you weren't in such a hurry, he'd have a mind to smack that perfectly plump ass of yours. It's looking particularly slapable in the long denim skirt you're wearing today. He bites his lip as he holds himself off, calmly walking up to you to help you out. "Any luck?" He asks softly, putting a gentle hand on your back.

"Nope." You sigh, turning around and plopping onto the sofa. "I can't believe it. My first day, and I've already lost everything I need to go to work." You scoff at yourself, unable to feel like anything but a failure in this moment. You've been making yourself sick the last couple of weeks, stressing over every little thing. 'What if the kids don't like me?' 'What if the kids don't listen to me?' 'What if I make a fool of myself?' 'What if none of the other teachers take me seriously?' These are all the questions that have been swirling inside your mind, as well as verbalized to Eddie on countless occasions. All of which have earned endless reassurances that you can, and will, be a great teacher. But right now, that concept doesn't ring true for you at all.

"Y/N, I'm sure it's here somewhere." Eddie replies kindly, checking his watch. You still have a half-hour before you need to be at the school to set up. "We've got time. Lemme take a look, fresh eyes and all that." He says, leaving you sulking as he walks down the hall. He checks the bedroom, and the closet. Nada. He doubles back to the kitchen, even opening up the fridge in case your brain got scattered. Nope. Lastly, he checks the bathroom, where you spent a good hour smoothing down your clothes, fixing your hair, and making sure your makeup wasn't 'too whorish'. He finds your leather bag resting on the counter by the sink, he lets out a relieved breath and grins. He brings it back to you, though your head is currently resting shamefully in your hands. "Sweetheart?" He asks, prompting you to look up at him.

Your eyes meet his, before falling onto the blasted bag. "Where the hell was it?" You ask, sure you had checked everywhere, like, ten times.

"Bathroom." He replies simply.

"Oh, figures. That's the last place I'd look." You giggle, taking the bag from him. "Thanks, baby. You always know how to keep me sane." You stand up, giving him a small peck. "We'd better get going, I wanna get there early." You say.

"Aren't you already getting there early?" Eddie asks, confused.

"For normal people, yes. But, I need to make sure everything is extra perfect." You say matter-of-factly, though you're absolutely beaming in the eyes. You're exceptionally anxious about today, but you're also happy to start your new career. You've found your passion, and worked very hard to get where you are.

"Whatever you say, babydoll." He shrugs, following you towards the front door. You both gather your keys and jackets, giving Arwen a farewell pet before leaving for the day. Eddie drives you to the school, pulling up into the teacher's lot at the back of the building. "Here we are, princess." He says, gesturing towards the structure he loathes to this very day.

"Yep. Here we are." You nod, gripping hard on the handles of your lunch box and teaching bag. As excited as you are to get started, you can't help feeling a little overwhelmed as you stare at the empty school.

"Hey, look at me." Eddie pipes up, and you turn to look at him. He puts a hand over yours, gazing at you adoringly. "You're gonna do great in there, honey. The kids are gonna love you. Everything will be fine." He speaks calmly to you, putting your jitters to rest.

"Promise?" You ask as a confident smile creeps across your face.

"Promise." He answers sincerely, leaning in to give you a good-bye kiss. You meet him in the middle, the feeling of his lips on yours calming you down further. "Now, get your hot teacher ass in there! Hawkins High better watch out!" Eddie chuckles goofily, shooing you out of the car. You do as he says, making a show of swaying your hips as you walk towards the school. He whoops from the rolled-down window, and you turn around and walk backwards to wave at him. He returns it, before turning the key to get the engine running. "Have a good day, Mrs. Munson!" He cheers as he pulls out of the parking space.

"I will!" You shout back, cheeks turning pink as joy overtakes you. You spin back around to head inside, listening to the van driving away to take Eddie to work. He'd decided to get a more adult job recently, at the local auto shop. He's pretty handy with cars, as it turns out, and having an in with the owner isn't a bad thing, either. The pay is good, he gets to work with his hands all day, and he's left looking sexy as all hell at the end of his shift.

You're picturing it in your mind right now as you make your way through the school halls. Blue jumpsuit, stained with oil and grease, the top half tied around his waist with an equally dirty white t-shirt underneath. His curly mane tied back in a messy ponytail, a few strands framing his face. And the best part, dark streaks of what you lovingly call 'car gunk' all over his pretty skin. On his hands, his arms, little smudges on his nose and cheeks. Sometimes on his chest, if the day is hot enough and he ditches the shirt. Fuck, you've never seen a man look so gorgeous while doing manual labor. You may have stopped in a few times to 'get your oil changed' or 'brakes checked' to catch a glimpse of him in action, which usually leads to him taking an early lunch and railing you in the back office. Thankfully, no one seems to bat an eye when you leave with grease marks on your clothes afterwards.

Just as you stop fantasizing about your beautiful husband, you're right outside your very own classroom. Your name is engraved on a plate mounted beside the door, telling you this is your new domain. You're already quite familiar with the space, having learned under Mrs. O'Donnell for the past couple years. Plus, you had a few weeks to come in and whip up lesson plans and arrange the room as you see fit. You take a deep breath, and pull the door open to get started. And once you step through that threshold, everything feels like it's falling into place.

Speaking of things following their natural order, quite a lot has changed since the summer of 1990. Dustin's starting his senior year at Cal-Tech, which will be followed by an internship at NASA. He's apparently one of the best and brightest the university has seen in a very long time, to no one's surprise. He's moving up in the world, getting all these wonderful opportunities, and you couldn't be happier for him. As for Mom, she's not too keen on the whole continued long-distance thing, but she's so proud of him in spite of that. She's been doing alright for herself as of late, joining a romance novel book club with Mrs. Wheeler and Mrs. Sinclair. They're big fans of pulp fiction, it seems.

Other developments within your long-extended family are numerous. The Hellfire kids are thriving under Erica's rule, who's proving to be a more formidable Dungeon Master than even Eddie himself. You've played a few campaigns with them, when the timing is right given everyone's busy schedule. You haven't won a single one, which makes Erica far too pleased for her own good. She's managed to stump the former head honcho himself, totally schooling him in the game time and again. She's quite the mastermind, which will prove useful in her pursuit of a career in criminal psychology. The other kids have pretty general goals, most of them wanting to follow in their parents' footsteps.

Nancy's five months pregnant with her and Jonathan's first child, a little baby girl. Nancy is really nervous, but Jonathan is overjoyed by the prospect of being a dad. He's been reading all the baby books, learning everything he can to be a team player for his beautiful, glowing wife. You've seen the sonogram, and Mom helped Karen throw a wonderful baby shower for the mother to be. That was a lot of fun, hanging out with all the other ladies in the group, having fancy tea and sandwiches while giving Nancy everything she needs for when the baby arrives. She even made Robin and Vickie the god-parents, which was really sweet. The overall idea of having kids may be a bit foreign to you, and always will be. But it's nice to share in the joy of your friends.

Steve and Chrissy, on the other hand, are just recently getting serious. He popped the question to her a few months ago, the two of them wanting to take things slow. It's really paid off, they are honestly one of the happiest couples you've ever seen. Chrissy managed to convince Jason to sign the divorce papers from prison, which was a shock. But she said he knew there was no winning her back at this point, so he set her free. Perhaps some hard time has helped him see what an awful man he used to be, and he wants to make things right. Either way, Steve is very much looking forward to making an honest woman out of Chrissy, as well as officially adopting JJ as his own son. In regards to the upcoming wedding, both you and Eddie have been asked to be in the bridal party. Robin is going to be Steve's 'best woman', and Vickie is the maid of honor. She's surprisingly gotten really close with Chrissy, sharing similar tastes in clothes and movies, as well as having overbearing parents. It's a friendship no one expected, but it's a welcome one.

Robin and Vickie have moved in together, sharing a quiet little house on the edge of town, with an acre or so of land along with it. They have a few chickens, a cow, a goat, and some honeybees. It's their own little homestead, growing food for themselves and selling some at a small, colorfully-decorated stand they have on the side of the country road. Robin's become oddly outdoorsy as time has passed, but it's more that she wants to share this thriving, private space with the woman she loves. They've had you and the others over a few times for dinner, which always ends outside at a massive fire pit they've dug out back. It's warm and cozy at their place, and you never fail to leave there with a massive smile on your face after wonderful food and conversation.

The Hopper/Byers family have plans to move back to Hawkins, missing everyone way too much to be so far away any longer. You're looking forward to having them back in town, they really are a great bunch. Hopper's aiming to get his job back at the police station, but more as a detective than anything else. The town has had a bit of a boom as of late, expanding as more people come looking for that sweet, suburban paradise. With said growth has come new shops and restaurants, though the tried and true landmarks of this place have been going stronger than ever, despite a little friendly competition. This growth also calls for a facelift of tax-paid services to maintain it all, which includes the police department. It's nice to watch this once dingy little town turn into a real spot on the map. A humble spot, but a spot worth taking a second glance at, that's for sure.

Last, but not least, there's the matter of Wayne. Given that he's been getting on in years, he decided to retire shortly after you and Eddie got married. He felt like his job was finally done. He'd raised his scared, scrawny nephew up into a fearless, beautiful young man. So, he quit his job at the plant, and now spends his time traveling around in a small RV. He got a sweet basset hound named Bessie to keep him company on his adventures, visiting every silly tourist attraction and crappy motel this country has to offer. He also sends you postcards, of which you receive at least three a week. You've gotten cards from the Corn Palace in South Dakota, Roswell in New Mexico, the Blue Whale of Catoosa, and many, many more. They give you and Eddie a good laugh whenever you check the mail, and you always call Wayne at whatever motor park number he writes down on the cards the night that you get them.

All in all, everybody is doing really well. Everyone has their own things going on, finding contentment in whatever that means for them. After years of loss, and tragedy, and general upheaval in this once-sleepy town of Hawkins, Indiana, it's more than earned. You've all taken the bad and the ugly in stride, and the good is well worth all the hardship you've worked through to get it. Everything is exactly as it's meant to be, despite life trying its hardest to throw obstacle after obstacle in your path. They say happy endings only exist in movies, and it would be naïve to say that no challenges will come your way ever again. But, the fact is, now that you've formed such strong bonds with one another, you know you can make it through. And as far as you're concerned, that's a happy ending if you've ever seen one. The knowledge that, no matter what happens, you'll always have people you love by your side to get through it.

#fanfiction #hippiegoth97 #smut #stranger things #eddie munson #hawkins #1980s #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you

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saltnsugarbear · 4 months ago

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did you think about me if I ever were to find out?

summary: you drink a little too much at Marcus' Halloween/house warming party, Sydney has to take you to a separate room

title from: "Drunk on Halloween" by Wallows

word count: 0.7k

content warnings: alcohol consumption, more fluff today <3

side note: the full word count is 777 which is p sick actually

dividers by @strangergraphics

Sydney's costume makes you want to melt.

She had somehow convinced you that you should both go as Snoopy and Woodstock. Marcus had planned a work Halloween party at his place to double as a housewarming party. So Sydney insisted you both go, you being front of house and her being back of house it only made sense.

So, here she is. Her braids collected in two pigtails, wrapped in place with black bows to mimic Snoopy's ears. The white dress she has on is a bit shorter than you know she's usually comfortable with, but you can see the lace shorts peaking out under the hem of her dress.

Your costume is... A lot of yellow. Ruffled shorts and short sleeve Henley that you thrifted the week before making the costume come together. Sydney tried to convince you to adopt a yellow hair accessorie, but you could not bring yourself to wear anymore yellow. The only thing you could get away with was a pair of black boots, insisting to Sydney that the shoes didn't matter with all the yellow you were already wearing.

You told Sydney you would pick her up from her place, and you would both go to Marcus's together. However, you were not prepared for how she would greet you, all dressed up in her costume.

So here you are, shocked by the sight of her all dressed up.

"What? Does it not look good? Should I change?" Sydney starts her anxious interrogation upon seeing your expression.

"No, no. Sorry! You look fine. Look good, actually." You assure her.

"Okay.. You sure? Cause like.. I can change-" Sydney starts.

"No, no, promise, Syd," you assure her. You place your hand on her forearm to further comfort her, rubbing your thumb over her soft skin. Sydney nods, adjusting her bag on her shoulder.

"Come on, Marcus'll be upset if we're late.." She says, tugging the door closed behind her. You agree, linking your arm with hers.

Snoopy and Woodstock.. Arm in arm.

You have had too much to drink already. You know it, Sydney knows it. The whole staff probably knows it. But you feel good so you don't particularly care.

You do start to care when you notice Sydney floating around you more, staying close to you in case you need the extra support. She's watching to you dance obnoxiously with Richie, singing loudly at the top of your lungs.

"Okay, okay, that's enough.." Sydney intervenes when you stumble into Richie for the third time. She slides her arm around your back, bringing your own to rest over her shoulder.

"Can you let Marcus know we're gonna be in his guest room?" Sydney tells Richie softly before leading you away from the crowd. You're perfectly content to follow Sydney wherever she leads you, so long as it's by her side.

You don't notice when she gets you into the room, playing with the strap on her shoulder to keep your attention. You do notice when she plops you down on the bed, laying you back and lifting your legs so yours laying down.

You listen softly as she takes off her shoes before laying on the bed next to you. You both lay there in silence for what feels like hours. Until eventually-

"Y'look so pretty tonight.." You whisper. "Look pretty all the time but..."

You trail off as you stare at the ceiling. Sydney turns onto her side to face you, but you can't bring yourself to turn over yet.

"You look pretty tonight.." Sydney whispers softly. Her words make you roll onto your side, finally taking her in. You watch silently as she brings her hand up to rest against your cheek, leaning into the warmth of her skin.

You're not sure who moves first, but it doesn't matter when she's kissing you like this.

It is soft and sweet, mixed with the apple cider she'd been nursing all night, and her plum chapstick. Between the apple cider and blood orange screwdriver you had, together the kiss tastes addictive.

Sydney doesn't let you make it any more than a soft kiss between the two of you. At some point in your kiss drunk state, you brought both your hands up to hold her face, keeping her close to you.

When you pull away from her, you can't help but stare. She's flustered. You can see it in her eyes. She looks more shy, not quite meeting your own gaze. It makes you smile softly.

"You're so pretty when you're flustered," you giggle softly. Sydney flusters even more, trying to hide her face in your hands while she mutters.

"Shut up.."

#saltnsugarbear #saltnsugarbear promptober #bearblrpromptober #not enough sugar #the bear fanfiction #sydney adamu fanfiction #sydney adamu imagine #sydney adamu x reader

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pyreneese · 4 months ago

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The Weakest Link

@deathnotetober

Day 3: Task Force

Rating: G

Everyone on the Task Force belonged. They all had a role to play and something to contribute. Matsuda knew this... just as much as he knew that he... didn't... belong. He wasn't smart or intuitive or even much of a leader. Hell, Light was barely out of high school and running circles around him.

It just confused him. L always worked alone. At least, he did until the Kira case. Was the detective really that strapped for assistance? It was clear L didn't think much of him... Was Matsuda really only here because L didn't have another choice?

Well at least he could come here to the building's shooting gallery to clear his mind. Well... keep it clear if L was right about him being an idiot.

Matsuda took a break from shooting practice to take a gulp of water. He leaned back in his seat with a heavy sigh, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice L quietly slinking towards him.

"Here instead of working on the investigation?"

Matsuda yelped in surprise, nearly jumping out of his skin. He blinked rapidly.

"O-oh! Ryuzaki! Sorry, heh. I uh... I wasn't finding any clues."

"I didn't think you would," L admitted with a shrug.

Matsuda frowned at that. He tilted his head a bit, watching the detective intently.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did."

"I-I mean.... ugh... um... why do you keep me on the investigation?" Matsuda slumped back with a defeated sigh. "I'm not smart... strong... intuitive... I'm... useless."

L stared at the man with large, unblinking eyes, unsettlingly quiet. Matsuda averted his eyes, waiting for the moment. That moment he'd dreaded when L would realize he was the weakest link and should be let go.

Fast as lightning, the detective threw an apple into the shooting gallery.

"Quick, Matsuda!"

Matsuda gasped, immediately snapping into action and whipping up his gun. It felt like as extension of his own arm as he fired and the bullet easily ripped through the fruit, sending juice spraying out onto the practice dummy beyond. Matsuda breathed heavily, peering over the wall's edge to see that he had hit the apple right in the center.

L idly hummed as he clasped his hands behind his back.

"I don't keep people who I don't find useful."

Matsuda's eyes widened, shining happily.

"You think I'm useful?!"

L's gaze slid in his direction, ever silent and borderline ghostly. Matsuda's smile never faltered though. All he wanted during this entire investigation was to impress the detective. L's face never changed as he turned on his heel.

"You're still an idiot."

"I'll take it!" Matsuda chirped, hopping to his feet to follow.

#death note #deathnotetober2024 #day 3 Task Force #L death note #matsuda death note

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kittenofdoomage · 2 years ago

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Nothing Left To Say

Summary: You let it lie too long, and now it’s time to move on. It’s escaping unnoticed that’s the problem.

Prompt: Endverse!Dean, at the camp, busted

Pairing: Endverse!Dean x female!reader

Word Count: 2190

Warnings: angst from the outset, smut, breakups, cheating, no HAEs here

Ao3 Link

It hadn’t been as hard as you thought it would be. Once you’d made the decision, you had made sure your responsibilities were passed on to someone else, and ensured that everyone would be alright without you. After that, it was simply a case of packing your things, which didn’t take long when your whole life fit into one duffel bag.

“Guess I won’t have to worry about carrying too much,” you mumbled, pulling the zip closed over the light bulge of your only sweater. Hoisting the bag onto your shoulder, you slipped out of the cabin’s bedroom, heading for the door through the kitchen.

He was waiting for you, half-bathed in shadows, the dim light of the only lamp giving the whole room a feeling right out of a horror novel. You skidded to a stop a few meters away from him, watching as he lifted his head, your hasty escape busted before you’d had a chance.

His eyes flicked from your face to the bag dangling at your side, one eyebrow arching. “Where are you going?” he asked, his voice calm but strained.

Holding your chin up, you swallowed the nerves down, dragging the strap further up into a more secure position. “Something I should have done a long time ago.”

There was no reaction on his face; no anger, no amusement, nothing. It unsettled you. But you hadn’t been sure what to expect from Dean for years now. He’d changed, become harder, colder, when he lost Sam. You both knew it. You just didn’t talk about it.

“You’ll die out there,” he said, his casual manner chilling you to the bone. Did he even care if you did?

You shrugged. “Better than dying here.”

A flinch. The tiniest of movements, but you knew you’d gotten to him and it gave you a tiny thrill of satisfaction. Just a taste of the pain he’d caused you.

He moved, and you jumped at the sudden step. The reaction made him freeze, and then you saw something else - hurt - cross his features. “I wouldn’t hurt you,” he accused, voice softer now, filled with pain.

You could feel tears in your eyes. “You already did,” you whispered brokenly, sniffing to try and stop the anguish in your throat. “I knew, Dean. I knew the whole time. About Risa, Jane, Marie… I knew and you lied to me. Told me it was another recon meeting. Weapons training. And just because it’s the end of the world doesn’t mean I don’t have a choice.”

Dean didn’t say a word, not even to defend himself. There wasn’t much point in denying it now.

“I kept thinking I could make it better,” you sighed. “But you’re never gonna change. Since…” You sucked in a breath, unable to say the words you were thinking. Since you lost Sam. “Since Detroit.” Meeting his gaze, you kept control of your composure, fisting your hands at your sides. “I don’t think you’re capable of love anymore.”

His jaw clenched. You didn’t want to see how his rage came out, and you didn’t want to drag it out any longer.

“Take care of yourself,” you mumbled.

“Can’t we talk about this?” he asked suddenly, the coldness evaporating. Your shoulders dropped, and you gave him a pitiful look.

“There’s nothing left to say,” you replied gently.

The only thing left was walking out the door. You just had to make it past him.

Every step was shaky and the closer you got, the more you saw the anguish on his face, but he didn’t move, watching you with glassy eyes. As you moved past, his hand shot out, grasping the top of your arm in a firm but not painful grip. “Please,” he whispered, turning his head to let you see the pain in his eyes. “They meant nothing to me.”

You inhaled sharply, searching his face for the truth. “Do you love me, Dean?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “If I said I did, would you stay?”

“Just asking that,” you forced out through gritted teeth, “means that if you did, you wouldn’t mean it. So no.”

“I can’t let you leave,” he murmured softly.

“Let me go,” you demanded, pulling at his hold, scowling when he didn’t release you. “Dean!”

Your bag hit the floor as you tried to escape, only he was stronger. In an attempt to free yourself, you twisted, but he anticipated it, shoving you hard until your back hit the wall, sending an empty picture frame clattering to the floor. In the next second, you found yourself caged in by Dean’s arms and your heart pounded in your chest as he stared at you.

He hadn’t been this close in weeks. The smell of him was intoxicating, and you remembered better times, when he’d touch you like you were the only woman in the world for him.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and you released an involuntary moan, pressing your hands against his chest. The moan was followed by the tiniest whisper of his name, and he struck without hesitation, crushing his mouth against yours, forcing you harder against the wall. You responded in kind, fisting the material of his shirt, gasping as he ground into you.

It was probably a stupid idea but you ignored the sensible side of your brain, too desperate to be touched to think about it. You knew you should have stopped it at the first kiss, then the second, or when his fingers curled up underneath your shirt, popping buttons as he went, except you didn’t stop there, undressing him as quickly as he was undressing you.

Your shirt and his ended up tangled on the floor, and he pulled you from the door, making it as far as the table before his hands were tugging at your pants. You kissed over and over, breaking apart only to remove clothing, and your impatience had his pants around his ankles and his cock in your hand while your jeans dangled from one leg. There didn’t seem to be a place for any words, and when Dean sank two fingers into your wet heat, you cried out, desperately trying to stroke him as he fucked the thick digits into you.

Grunting his name, you rocked against him, ass scraping against the wooden tabletop. He panted into your mouth, working you into a frenzy, pulling back just to watch your face twist into a mask of pleasure. “Cum for me,” he murmured, mouthing at your jaw.

You were almost blind from the bliss in your veins; your hand dropped as your concentration lapsed but he didn’t stop. He kept you grounded with slow strokes as you fell over the edge, and when you began to settle back into your bones, you felt him, hard, nudging at your entrance.

His eyes locked on yours as he sank into you, and you swallowed down a cry at the penetration, clinging to his shoulders. One of his hands slipped down to cup your ass, the other steadying you as the shoulder as he sank deep and held himself there. It struck you with sorrow when you looked into his eyes, realizing how much you’d missed this, but knowing that you needed more.

He kissed you again, starting to rock into you. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself the indulgence of his touch, of being connected to him, enjoying the warm buzz lingering in your head from your first orgasm, already feeling the beginnings of a second. Dean had always known just how to make you quiver, but it was soured by the knowledge that you weren’t the only one.

Pushing those thoughts away, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, tangling your fingers in the unruly short hairs at the back of his head. He groaned against your lips, both hands on your ass now, slamming into you with enough force to make the table shake. Your noises were muffled until you needed to breathe, inhaling hard and exhaling with a drawn out moan as you started to cum again.

When you were almost through, he withdrew, manhandling you onto your stomach across the table, barely sparing a second before he was sinking into your warmth again. At this angle, his strokes drove you onto tiptoes, and you scrambled for purchase as your brain short-circuited with pleasure. Dean growled, hands on your hips, driving into you harder and harder until you were screaming his name.

Finally, he choked out a single “fuck” and thrust deep. Warmth spread out from where his cock kissed your cervix, trickling down until it was dripping onto your thighs. You went slack, cheek against the table, listening as Dean grunted and pulled away, expecting him to dismiss you.

His hand slipped around your wrist, tugging you up. You stumbled, falling right into his arms, and another kiss. “Come to bed,” he whispered, nuzzling your cheek.

You hesitated, glancing at your bag. One bout of great sex didn’t fix the problems between you but when you looked into his eyes, he looked so earnest, and so like the Dean you loved.

“Okay,” you murmured, offering him a weak smile.

He smiled back, and you knew you’d be gone by morning.

He was on his back, snoring lightly, one arm underneath your pillow, the other draped across his chest. Like this, with his features relaxed, you could see the young hunter you’d fallen in love with, the one who had smiled. The only man you’d ever loved.

It felt like an appropriate way to say goodbye. He didn’t need to be awake.

Dressing quickly, you found your bag where it had been abandoned, quietly hoisting it onto your shoulder as you went for the door, glancing back nervously in case Dean had woken up. Satisfied you could sneak away without his notice, you slipped out of the door, closing it carefully so it didn’t slam.

On the horizon, the sun’s first rays were beginning to turn the night sky pink. You stepped down carefully from the cabin, wary of the squeaky step at the bottom, then headed down the path. At this hour, you shouldn’t have expected anyone but the sentries to be awake, but naturally, you encountered another obstacle to your freedom, laying in the grass with nothing on his feet and a lit joint in his hand.

“You’re leaving.”

Castiel’s statement was slurred, and you briefly wondered what he was high on tonight. “Yeah,” you replied. “Are you going to stop me?”

He chuckled, rolling his head toward you. “The stars put on quite a show tonight,” he grinned, holding out the joint. “You sure I can’t persuade you to watch with me?”

You smiled fondly at the former angel. “Take care of him, Cas.”

He regarded you for a second, pushing up into a seated position. “There’s nothing out there, you know.”

“Turns out there’s nothing here either,” you sighed. “I’ll be okay.”

With no further argument, you turned your back on Cas and headed for the gates. The sentries didn’t stop you, so you hurried out of the camp and onto the road, heading south. In truth, you hadn’t decided where you were going to go yet, but you had family in California, and there was always the hope someone else had survived.

It grew lonely quickly in the next few days. You took to humming songs, forcing yourself to remember lyrics to take your mind off of how tired or hungry you were. Sleeping was a tricky prospect, requiring a good hiding place if you wanted true rest, and you had to scout any potential safe areas as you went. Though you didn’t encounter many Croats, you remained alert, keeping your machete close in an effort to conserve your limited ammo.

A week after you had left, a storm rolled in. You found sanctuary in a gas station, lucking out on a full stockroom that hadn’t been plundered. As the thunder and lightning raged outside, you ate Twinkies and snatched a brief few hours of calm in the lockable room.

It was dark when a sound disturbed you from outside. You woke and sat up, machete already in your hand as you listened for whatever was making the noise, assuming that at worst it was a Croat, at best, a raccoon. Getting to your feet, you crept to the door, unlocking it as silently as possible before peeking out.

There was nothing you could see. The wind blew an empty chip packet across the floor, and the moonlight shimmered on the shelving as the storm clouds moved on. You gripped your weapon, stepping out with a hope that your raccoon theory was correct.

And then he stepped out. Dressed in a crisp white suit, eyes glowing a subtle red as he smiled. He breathed your name like a prayer, a smile on his face that didn’t seem to fit right. You felt the cold wrap around you like a ghostly embrace. Dean’s voice echoed in your head.

You’ll die out there.

Lucifer’s smile didn’t waiver. “I was hoping I’d run into you.”

Please consider reblogging with a comment or gif or keyboard smash 😁 thank you for reading!

#dean winchester #endverse!dean #dean x reader #smut #angst #cheating #no happy endings #supernatural #spn #fanfic #fanfiction

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the-weirdos-mind · 5 months ago

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The Perfect Sound (Part 1)

The vilginate for Estella’s card for @raguiras Music Weeks event! I wanted to write something with this, so I did. (Not because this event took over my mind. I don’t know what you’re implying)

Allen belongs to @raguiras. Thank you for letting me use him for this.

@adrianasunderworld @mangacupcake @writing-heiress @fair-night-starry-tears @queen-of-twisted @achy-boo @abyssthing198 @fiendishfan

Estella huffed as strummed the note on her guitar. She didn’t like how it sounded. It sounded too high to her so she tuned the instrument. She had the string loosened and strummed again. Too low. The cycle of tunning and strumming continued until she strummed nonsense. After playing a sour note for the millionth time, she set the instrument to the side with a frustrated huff. She grabbed the music sheet in front of her and began to look over the notes that were written. Maybe she was reading the notes wrong? “Hey Estella.” Someone said. She looked up to see Allen looking at her.

“Oh, hey Allen.” She said. “What’s up?”

“You’ve been strumming for over an hour on a single note. Is everything okay?”

“Wish I knew.”

She went back to looking at the notes on the sheet. She heard some shuffling and saw that Allen had sat next to her. She went back to looking at the music sheet, her mind completely focused on that. After a moment of silence between the two, the music sheet was snatched from her hands. She gave Allen a look that told him she wasn’t amused.

“Go take a break.” He said.

“I don’t need it.” She said.

“Yeah you do. If you keep at this pace, you’ll burnt out. That won’t be good for the team and yourself.”

“But—“

“No buts. As the co-leader of Hazard/Riff, I’m ordering you to go take a walk or something.”

She groaned. She didn’t want to argue about the situation but didn’t want to admit that a break sounded good right about now. “Fine.” She grumbled, admitting defeat. She grabbed the instrument and the black case she had for it. She zipped the case open and put the guitar inside. Once she zipped it close she stood up and slid the strap over her shoulder.

“You’re taking the guitar with you?” Allen asked, a bit confused. Bringing the very source of your frustration wasn’t going to do anyone any good.

“The last time I left it here, Floyd tried to use it as a baseball bat.” Estella stated. She remembered almost having a heart attack when she came back into the room and seeing the eel merman swinging it around by its neck. She did cuss him out in Spanish about that as soon as she got her instrument back.

“That’s fair. Don’t be too long, we still gotta shoot the music video soon.”

“I won’t. I’ll see you in a bit Allen.” She quickly walked out of the room, wanting to get away from the conversation. She didn’t want him to know that she was stressed out about the upcoming shoot. The music video shoot was also making her nerves jump around. Perhaps that’s why she’s been messing up with her playing. It was exactly what was making her mess up. She did her best to hide her stress and anxiety about it but Deuce had noticed. He always noticed when one of his friends is upset or anxious. The leader had done what he could to make her take a break and relax for a moment, but when he turned around she was back at working. He asked Allen if he could make her take some time to herself, since she isn’t listening to him.

“See you later.” Allen mumbled as the door closed. He sighed in relief, knowing that Deuce would calm down just a little bit.

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

Estella walked to the courtyard of the school. She was trying to think of something, anything else instead of the upcoming shoot. Her mind refused to let her think of anything else. She took the strap off her shoulder and set the case against an apple tree. She soon sat underneath the tree and watched the clouds go by. After a few minutes of cloud watching, she still felt anxious.

She looked at the guitar case from the corner of her eye. Whenever she got to the state she was, she would play something on it, but what do you do when the very thing you use to calm down is having the opposite effect? She looked back at the sky, feeling her stomach drop the more she thought about it.

She has to get herself together or she’ll mess everything up. Like she did back home. She huffed and scrunched her legs to her chest. She placed her head on her knees and wrapped her arms around her legs. “Get it together.” She mumbled. She wanted to cry, as the feeling of hopelessness started to consume her. Her mind had turned something that brought her comfort, to something that causes distress. She took a few deep breaths until she calmed down somewhat.

Then she released herself from that fetal like position and grabbed her guitar case. She unzipped it and took the instrument out. She tuned it and started to play the first song that came to mind. Never Too Late by Three Days Grace. She didn’t sing the lyrics, just played the instrumental. Halfway through the song she calmed down more. She didn’t see that someone was approaching her, having heard the sound of guitar strings being played.

She jumped a bit as she heard clapping. She looked up to see Ace, standing there with a grin and clapping. “Nice work there, Stella.” He said.

“What do you want?” She asked, hoping that he wasn’t there to mess with her. As much as she would like to get into a petty argument with him, then make up immediately she wasn’t in the mood.

“Just came to check on you. You’ve been stressed out for a while.”

“So it was noticeable?”

“Obviously!”

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #estella garcia #not my oc #allen alagona #ace trappola #ragu music weeks #twst fan event #not my event

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