#baby's first picket line?!
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contract renegotiations are happening in 9 days and besties i will not lie. a strike is looking more and more likely with each passing day
#personal#baby's first picket line?!#<- the last strike at My workplace happened before i was hired#so first time as an active striking member#i'm just saying#if corporate doesn't pull their heads out of their asses soon#i'm reminded that the last strike lasted literally less than one day#before they caved#so idk who they think they're fucking with here#yeah i'm bigender i'm a Workin' Girl and a Union Man
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i really did move to the pnw to live my tranny faggot dreams that my parents warned me about. and it's awesome
#baby's first picket line today :)#it was soooo fun and it's literally crazy how supportive people here are#i can't believe how many people refuse to cross the picket line#had an older gentleman cross the street towards us from the direction of safeway and tell me good luck#and then held up his bags of groceries and said 'i swallowed my pride today'#that's wild!!! that's fucking wacky!!!#old men in the midwest would NEVER!#even just him not wanting to shop at safeway. it's so cool that people out here care about staying local#also i've been wearing a simple black collar to work which was already a Little scary#and today at the picket i wore my scene collar w my big bone tag and it was so normal that i forgot i was wearing it#i am living my tranny faggot DREAMS!#blake barks
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I'd like to tell you all a story about my grandmother.
My grandparents raised their children, four girls (one of them my mother), to be fighters. My aunts marched in Washington for women's rights with babies strapped to their chests and like to joke that all of the grandchildren who came from that line (including myself) were born with picket signs in their hands.
But it started with my grandparents. They fought hard for what they believed in. They marched against Vietnam. They marched for Martin Luther King. They marched for women's rights. They marched for a better future.
But let's talk specifically about my grandmother for a moment.
My grandmother unfortunately passed away in 2016. She had to watch the first Trump election and did so knowing that it would probably be the last election she'd ever see. And there is some argument there that she could have given in to fear and defeatism. She could have decided none of it was worth it, and she could have decided that fascism had won and the world was over.
But she did something else instead.
To give some context, my grandparents had friends who were Republicans. I say were, because they shifted from the normal Republican towards the MAGA Republican we see today. And despite a very clear message from my family about how we felt, they were more than ready to still come to the funeral as if everything was normal. Like their beliefs were normal. Like they were welcome to celebrate someone who had fought so hard for the rights of other people.
These were people who would have absolutely used their rhetoric to scream and shout if they were left out or disinvited.
And so my grandmother, even past her final moments, pulled the most brilliant, petty move I've ever seen.
She'd decided ahead of time that everyone who had known her was more than welcome to attend but that she wanted everyone attending the funeral to donate money. That was the requirement to be invited. And so everyone did just that. There was no talk about what the donations were for, just that they were appreciated. I want to say that the assumption was the money would help pay for funeral expenses and give the family some support while we grieved.
Except that wasn't the case.
Because in those final moments of the funeral, the rabbi stepped forward to thank everyone, and then very cheerfully announced;
"Arlene was so happy to know just how many people were coming to join us here today. She couldn't have been more proud of her family. And I'm sure she would have been elated to see just how much money you all gave today to Planned Parenthood."
When I say that the faces of those people are enshrined in my memory, I mean it. The anger, the devastation, the rage, the betrayal. It was an absolutely gorgeous display of true defeat at the hands of a boss ass old lady who literally fought with her last breath and threw up both middle fingers all the way out the door.
What I'm saying is this.
It is very easy to feel defeated. It is very easy to think that everything is over, and there's nothing left for us to do. It's very easy to say that fascism won, that fear won, that hate won.
But that's only true if you let it be true.
There is always more that we can do. There is a future that is still worth fighting for. And it's more than possible, even when it doesn't seem like it.
And fighting is going to look different every time.
Some days it will look like picket signs in our hands.
Some days it will look like spending time with friends and family and people you love and knowing that you have a community that supports you and your vision of a brighter future.
And some days, it's pulling absolute natural level 20 petty trickster shit even after you've left the world.
Because you can always make an impact and you can always add a little brightness to life, and if that means tricking a group of MAGA idiots into throwing their money behind Planned Parenthood in the middle of your own goddamn funeral then that's what it means.
Keep fighting. People have done it before you. People will continue to do it after you.
And enjoy the little victories.
(Even the petty ones)
#us elections#equality#equal rights#protesting#picketing#fighting#we can do this#we truly can#take a break and then keep fighting
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MASTERLIST: RAFE CAMERON
ᯓᡣ𐭩 mood boards
✦ ethnic gfs | all east asian ༯˖. south asian ༯˖. middle eastern ༯˖. west african ༯˖. southeast asian ༯˖. filipina ༯˖. albanian ༯˖. east african ༯˖. brazilian ༯˖. mexican ༯˖. spaniard ༯˖. syrian ༯˖. afrolatina ༯˖. tongan ༯˖. wasian ༯˖. moroccan ༯˖. armenian ༯˖. egyptian ༯˖. algerian ༯˖.
✦ finish line | fic, blurb, #maybank!reader
✦ all american sinners, pt. 2 | fic, blurb, #sex addict!reader
✦ good girl gone wild | fic, blurb, #sorority!reader
✦ angry god | fic, blurb
ᯓᡣ𐭩 social medias aus
heartbreak: live | sfw, fluff + angst
radio host!reader, ex-lovers┆after a breakup, you went incongito. now, you're back in the spotlight with a new radio show. and the whole world listening.
01 • 02 • 03 • 04 • 05 • 06 • 07 • 08 • 09 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • 20 • 21 • 22 • 23 •
extras — after | when reader has rafe blocked on all social medias — after | when it's national text an ex day — during | when reader posts about rafe on ig — during | reader and rafe's clay date night
ᯓᡣ𐭩 imagines
✦ tlc | rafe hollering at you from the passenger side of his friend's car
ᯓᡣ𐭩 drabbles
✦ headspace | sfw + fluff
established relationship, academic weapon!reader┆when rafe comforts you regarding your upcoming exam.
✦ proofs | sfw + fluff
established relationship, academic weapon!reader┆when you need rafe's help to finish a math homework.
✦ mangos | sfw + fluff
established relationship, vietnamese!reader┆when your spice tolerance is different from your boyfriend's.
✦ white picket fence | sfw + fluff
established relationship, dad!rafe | when your baby daughter wakes rafe up, he goes to comfort her.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 oneshots
✦ stay the night | nsfw + fluff
fwb to lovers┆if rafe sees you as a fuck buddy, then you're going to remind him what that truly means.
✦ reality check | request, nsfw + fluff
bsf to lovers┆when rafe gets a buzzcut, it changes how you view your best friend.
✦ finish line | nsfw
older sister maybank!reader, racing rivals┆when your little brother has to forfeit a race against rafe, he seeks your help to replace him and win.
✦ dirty air | nsfw
older sister maybank!reader, fuck buddies┆when rafe wants you as a booty call, you're going to make him work for it.
✦ te amo | nsfw + fluff
mexican!reader┆after a fight with his father, rafe shows up to your door for comfort.
✦ all for the game | request, sfw + angst
reporter!reader, basketball player!rafe┆when you get the chance to interview your first athlete, it turns out to be none other than your ex-boyfriend, rafe.
✦ whatever she wants | request, nsfw
bitchy!kook!reader┆you always wanted rafe, and when he finally came to you, you expect nothing but the best experience.
✦ shotgun wedding | nsfw + fluff
maybank!reader, fuck buddies┆when rafe suddenly has the idea to get married.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 series
✦ brother's rival | in progress, nsfw
brother's rival, secret romance┆when your brother is determined to steal something important from the king of kooks, rafe is going to return the favor.
01 • 02
✦ play fake | in progress, nsfw + angst
fake dating┆when rafe needs to secure a girlfriend, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.
01 • 02 • 03 • 04 • 05 • 06 • 07 • 08 • 09 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 / END
— extras: 3.5 • 5.5
✦ angry god | sfw + angst
twin flames┆when rafe discovers you're more like him than he realizes, he'll do anything to have you.
01 • 02 • 03 / END
✦ dead man walking | oneshot (for now), nsfw + angst
mafia boss!rafe, reluctant allies┆when a shootout injury is more life-threatening than it appears, you have to save rafe or lose your life.
01 •
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Silver Lining
Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: After Natasha dies, Wanda helps reader with raising her baby. They didn't know they would fall in love
W/c: 4.2k
Ellie needs diapers.
It’s a simple text. A message you’re used to these days. It’s straightforward and to the point. Ellie needs diapers. Though there’s no other meaning behind the simple sentence it's a bit unsettling. You stare at the message watching as the text bubble for typing appears. You wait with a finger over your cursor for the sender to say something else. Just as quick as it appeared it leaves your screen.
Are you okay?
You want to send it back. You quickly delete the message and tuck the phone into your pocket. Guess you’ll be going to get diapers. You start the engine of your car, glancing to the bar in front of you, before pulling out of the parking lot. Wanda’s been weird lately. Distant.Cold. a little testy. You have a bit of an inkling of what it could be but your mind won’t let you go there. You’ve just come from a pretty awesome late-night dinner with your coworker, Danny. It’s the second time she’s asked you out and you accepted. It’s about time you hang out with someone other than Ellie these days. Not that Wanda isn’t a good company but You’d be an idiot to say no. Danny is kind, sweet, smart, and so damn sexy. She’s tall, runway model tall, with legs that never seemed to end. Most of all she listened. She’s the only one in the office that understands a bit of what you’ve been through so you go to her for things. It was only a matter of time for your relationship to progress. Right?
You can’t help the deep-seated guilt at leaving Wanda in the dark. She takes care of Ellie as if she’s her own. She helps whenever you need it and despite her own grief and pain, she’s always there for you. This is why you are unsure of her recent behavior. It must be something you did. Maybe she’s not comfortable with you leaving her with Ellie to go on dates? If so you’d be happy to find a babysitter to relieve her. Was she upset that you forgot to put the laundry in the dryer? Did you forget her birthday? No, that can’t be it. Wanda was so gracious and plentiful with her forgiveness. Which is why you are so confused.
The only thing open right now is the 24 hour CVS. Simple enough. You step into the store with a purpose. You find the baby aisle with ease. You’ve been here plenty of times before. The Honest Company brand is the first you spot. You’re not too keen on being loyal to a specific brand but Wanda always insists that it’s really good. You grab a pack of diapers in Ellie’s size and tuck it under your arms. You pull out your phone again to check if Wanda has messaged about anything else. You’re the only one in the store beside the cashier so you’re not in much of a rush. You step around to the second aisle where there are trashy magazines and other assortments of books on display. You grab a crossword puzzle book for you and Wanda to finish together. Maybe then she’ll tell you what’s been on her mind. You make your way to the front where you spot her favorite candy. You’re not intentionally trying to make her feel better, you technically haven’t done anything wrong, and yet you can’t help but feel that you need to make things right with her. You grab the turtle's candy from the shelf and hand it to the cashier. She bags with boredom ready to clock out of work herself. You give her thanks before taking the items and leaving the store.
It doesn’t take long for you to get home. You sit in the driveway with the lights off for a minute. You’re looking up at the house. It’s beautiful. Two-story, brick, a white picket fence. It’s everything you’ve wanted in a home. Everything Natasha wanted. It’s been a little over a year since she’s died. A little longer than that since you’ve seen her face. Ellie never got to meet her. You were eight months pregnant when Natasha and the rest of the team decided to do the mission to reverse what Thanos messed up. Your wife, a natural leader and a true hero sacrificed her own life for the greater good. Natasha was always good. Which is why you resent her so much. In her haste to save the rest of the world she left you with a baby who would never know her name, never know her smile, and never feel her arms around them.
A life you planned together was over before you could start it. You’re here with the house that you chose together and sometimes you can’t make yourself go in. It hurts to see Ellie smile and laugh knowing Natasha would never get to see that. It’s a silhouette in the front window that breaks you from your thoughts. Wanda seems to be cleaning. She hasn’t closed the curtains which you have to remind her to do often. She moved in after you had given birth to Ellie. She was no longer Avenging. She wanted something else for herself. Wanda is your rock and you’re incredibly thankful for everything she does for you and Ellie. Suddenly, as if she senses you’re home, she turns to the window to peer out. She finds you easily and gives you a small wave. You wave back.
You unbuckle your seat belt and grab your items from CVS along with your briefcase. You take slow steps up the walkway. Wanda’s planted new flowers in the garden. They’re beautiful. She opens the front door for you and takes your briefcase just as she does every day.
You plant a kiss on her cheek in hello before stepping over to allow her to close the door. Briefly you think about how domestic the greeting is. She’s your best friend. It’s always been like this.
“Hey,” Wanda greets. She rubs her arms to warm herself. It’s the middle of August. It’s not too warm but Wanda always seems to be freezing. “How was work?”
“Work was work,” You shrug. Wanda lowers her hands to take the diapers. She places them on the front steps. “I need a long vacation. What do you say about taking Ellie to Montana or something?”
“Montana?” Wanda questions. She raises a brow.
“I know there’s nothing there but that’s the point.” You say. You follow her into the kitchen. Wanda rolls up her sleeves to get started on cleaning Ellie’s dishes. She’s sleeping by now with it being way past her bedtime. The eleven-month-old is full of energy. You find yourself missing her whenever you’re away. “How was she today?”
“She was great. She has another tooth coming in so she was a bit fussy before bedtime but a bath and a song fixed all of that.” Wanda scrubs a bottle with care and precision.
“How were you today?”
She pauses to look up at you. “I’m fine.” She drops her head back to the dishes.
“Her first birthday is soon,” Wanda begins another conversation.
“Yes, I can’t believe it,” You smile. “I think we should have a small party. Nothing too flashy. Danny thinks we should do a princess theme. I’ll probably ask her to plan it since she’s good with those things.” There it is. Wanda’s frown appears and she doesn’t try to hide it this time. “Is that not a good idea?” You lean against the counter to wait for her answer.
“No, no, it’s a great idea.” Wanda shakes her head. “I was just thinking that we would plan that together. Danny doesn’t know Ellie. I mean she’s never met her and you’re not dating.” Oh. There it is. She’s upset about you spending time with Danny.
“We can plan it together.” You placate her. “I didn’t think you would want to considering you’re already so generous with your time.”
“Are you kidding? I’d love to.” Wanda sets the last cup aside. “Ellie has been the highlight of my life for a while now. I can’t believe you’d think I wouldn’t want to help with such a milestone.”
“Okay then, we can plan it next week.” Wanda nods.
“I brought these.” You hold up the bag with the crossword puzzle and candy. Wanda eyes it before rolling her eyes.
“I’m going to have cavities because of you.” There’s no real malice in her tone. You grin before shaking the bag.
“Go change and I’ll make us tea.” Wanda takes the bag before waving you off. You plant another kiss on her cheek before running up the stairs to your bedroom. You make a pit stop at Ellie’s bedroom. Her door is cracked and the light from her night light castes the room in a light blue glow. You push it open gently. You tiptoe over to the bed where you take a second to look at her. She’s on her stomach with her hand resting near her face. Her favorite plushie, Boris the monkey, is inches away. You’re sure she fell asleep with it in her arms.
Sometimes you wonder how life with Natasha would be. How different would it be raising Ellie together? If you let yourself think too long you’ll become depressed. Natasha was the love of your life and you’d probably never be over her death. Does one ever get over that? Looking at Ellie, you’re constantly reminded of how much is being missed. You reach down to brush a hand over her head. You lean to press a kiss to her head. She twitches in her sleep before settling again.
You leave the room, closing the door behind you, before making your way to your bedroom. Deciding that a quick shower would feel amazing you step into the bathroom with that purpose. You don’t even bat an eye at Wanda’s towel resting beside yours. You take your time in the shower, allowing all of your stressors to melt away, before stepping out feeling refreshed. Wanda would be ready with the tea by now. You quickly dress and make your way downstairs to meet her in the living room. She’s already tucked under a throw blanket and she’s added a cardigan to her outfit.
“It’s amazing how you’re always so cold,” You say before joining her under the blanket. She adjusts it so that it’s covering both of your legs.
“If you kept the house at a reasonable temperature maybe I wouldn’t be.” She quips. She takes a sip of her tea before setting it on the coffee table. She grabs a pen and the crossword puzzle. She doesn’t hesitate to lean further into you so that you both can see the page. Despite her being cold, her warmth is comforting. She smells amazing. Clean. It sounds weird but it’s Wanda.
“Okay this one is literary lingo,” Wanda begins. She tucks the pen against her bottom lip as she reads across the page. “Two across says an exaggerated statement not to be taken literally.” She glances to you for help before turning back to the page.
“Hyperbole.” You answer. Piece of cake. She scribbles the answer onto the page before going to the next question. This is how much of the night goes until you finish the entire page. Wanda sets the book down in triumph. She picks up the turtle’s package and rips open the paper. She hands you one before biting into one herself. The candy is sticky and tough but delicious.
“Have you been back to the compound recently?” She asks you.
“Not really, I can’t bring myself to.” You shake your head. Going back there would only remind you of Natasha and Vision. She nods her head. She feels that way too. She chews before swallowing thickly.
“I think I want to start volunteering somewhere,” She says and you sit up a bit straighter in interest. Wanda adjusts herself so that she’s fully facing you. “I know I spend a lot of time with Ellie and I love her but I need some adult human interaction.”
“Wanda, if it’s too much please tell me, I can bring her to work with me some days and-”
“No,” She cuts you off. “It’s not that. I just want to do something good. I want to help other orphans maybe. Growing up in Sokovia without parents and then joined Hydra. I know it probably won’t be as dramatic here in America but I want to help them onto the right path. Whether with homework or reading.” Wanda’s hands move excitedly as she speaks. She’s passionate about this and you can’t help but smile seeing her so happy. She notices your look and smiles back. “What?”
“You’re a good person, Wanda Maximoff.” You reply. Her smile widens. It’s all she’s ever wanted to hear.
“Thank you, y/n. I think you’re pretty good too.” She grins cheekily. “So you think I should do it?”
“I think you should. I can get Steve or Peter and MJ to watch Ellie and I’ll come with you some days.” You suggest. NYC is only a train away so you figure it won’t be too bad.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You nod. Suddenly your arms are full of Wanda as she hugs you in gratitude. You think you're a bit touch-deprived as the feeling of Wanda in your arms is heaven-like.
“You’re the best.” Wanda smiles as she pulls back. “Are you too tired for a show?” She tilts her head towards the tv.
“No, put it on.” You watch as she grabs the remote, settling into your side again, as she finds her favorite episode of BEWITCHED.
**************************
The next few days are weekend days so you and Wanda attend a play date with another mom from the neighborhood. Her son, Tyler, is a month older than Ellie and they’re still a bit young for any real play but it’s more of a social thing. Tyler’s mom, Terry, is serving you and Wanda finger food as she talks about a new committee that’s happening in the neighborhood. They want to plan events for the coming year.
“I know things are hectic but it may be fun,” Terry shrugs as she sits across from you. “Mike probably won’t enjoy it but I’d figure us wives will.” She waves a hand dismissively. “Gives us something to do being stay-at-home moms.” This time she looks to Wanda. You don’t bother to correct her. This wouldn’t be the first time someone mistook you two for a couple since moving here.
Wanda nods, she might be considering the idea. You don’t think it sounds bad either. You’re just about to ask Terry about the type of events when Ellie crawls over to you with a toy block in one of her hands. She uses your knees to stand on her own feet. Her eyes are wide and trusting as she shows off the toy.
“It’s so nice,” You feign interest. You wonder if this is like a parent requirement. To give praise or encouragement to something your child wants to show you.
“Mama!” Ellie pushes the toy into Wanda’s lap. There’s a gasp but you can’t quite tell who it’s from. Wanda looks to you for the next step. “Mama!” Ellie is insistent as she pushes the toy further into Wanda’s lap.
“Go ahead, Mama.” You find your voice. You emphasize the title with a gesture to Ellie. Wanda swallows thickly before nodding. She looks down at Ellie before pulling her into her lap. The slipup was forgotten as she inspects the toy and puts on a voice for the toddler.
“Is this her first time saying it?” Terry asks with a smile noting your reactions.
“It’s the first time she’s directed it towards either of us.” You inform her. It’s true. Ellie has said Mama before in passing but she was never so indicative about whom she was talking to. Seeing her direct it to Wanda was startling but heartwarming. It brings tears to your eyes. Seeing the other woman respond and play with Ellie with such care. Wanda looks over to you with a smile before turning her attention back to Ellie.
Whoa. What was that you’re feeling? Butterflies. You haven't felt those in a while. Suddenly you feel as if you’re suffocating. The room feels smaller and you need space. You stand, excusing yourself from the room, to find a bathroom. You go to the one Terry directs you to. Wanda watches as you leave with a frown. Did something happen? You push the door closed leaning your head against it as you take harsh, breaths.
Wanda. Wanda Maximoff. Your best friend. You’re in love with her. It’s a thought that makes you want to puke. You don’t know how it has happened or when it’s happened but suddenly all of your feelings make sense. How happy you are to see her. Even on your date with Danny, all you could think about was Wanda. Coming home to Wanda. Spending time with Wanda. Kissing Wanda. Making love to her.
You gasp. This can’t be. You shake your head hoping it will rid you of the thoughts. Wanda lost the love of her life. You lost yours. It could be nothing more than what it was. She probably didn’t even feel the same way.
Life is crazy.
The car ride home is ridden in silence. Ellie has fallen asleep after the playdate. You glance at Wanda every few minutes. You don’t realize she’s looking at you too. You park in the driveway, helping her with Ellie’s bag when your hand brushes against hers. You pull away hiding the effect it has on you as you walk into the house. You put Ellie to bed on your own while Wanda does god knows what downstairs. You take your time dressing in a t-shirt and shorts before sitting on the bottom step to tie your shoes.
Wanda steps into the foyer to ask where you’re going. You both only just got home. She didn’t know you had plans to do anything.
“For a run,” This surprises her even further. You don’t like running. You despise it and yet here you are gearing up to run.
“You hate running,” Wanda points out. “In fact, the last time Steve suggested you run you told him you would rather have crows poke your eyes out and eat them for breakfast.”
Damn. You did say that.
“I’m trying something different,” You shrug. You stand to stretch before heading for the front door.
Wanda follows after you. Before you turn the knob she calls out to you.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” You pause and turn back to her.
“Overstep? Why would you think that?” You question her.
“Well, Ellie called me Mama and I know that’s what she would have called Nat. I’m not her mother.” Wanda folds her arms under her chest. A nervous move. “I thought you might be uncomfortable with that.”
“No, Wanda, that’s not it at all,” You assure her. “I’m so happy that Ellie views you as her Mama. There’s no one I would rather have that title. You are her Mama.” Wanda nods with tears in her eyes. Maybe she’s wanted that without really knowing. You find yourself wanting to kiss her tears away. Again. Whoa.
“Okay,” She gives you a small smile. “Have fun on your run.” She tells you and you nod. She watches you exit the front door. You do a few final stretches before you plug your headphones into your ear. Guess it was time to run.
It’s been two hours the next time you walk through the front door. The lights off save for the foyer. You kick off your shoes, rubbing your forehead with your sweaty shirt before you make your way upstairs. Wanda must be asleep. You check on Ellie as you do every night. She’s sound asleep. You hop into the shower and allow yourself to stand under the scalding hot water. You’re going to regret running so much in the morning. Your thoughts are riddled with Wanda as you shower, when you dry off, and when you dress. You can’t stop thinking of her. You don’t know what prompts you to do it but you suddenly find yourself in front of her bedroom door. Her lights are off but you knock anyway. No answer.
You twist the knob to find the door unlocked. You open the door and call her. She’s on her side facing away from the door. Her posture is a bit stiff.
“Wanda?” You question.
“Yeah?” She whispers into the darkness. She turns over just as you climb into the bed. You’re under the covers now and briefly you think about how comfortable her bed is. You can see her through the light emanating from her window. Her cheeks are stained with dry tear tracks. She’s been crying. “Y/n?” She tries to hide the shake in her voice as you look at her. It’s now or never.
Your eyes fly down to her lips then back to her eyes. You lift a hand to caress her cheek as you lean to plant a chaste kiss against her lips. She gasps, quickly recovering, before kissing you back. You pull back keeping your eyes closed. If you open them to her being angry with you, you don’t know if you’ll forgive yourself.
“Y/n,” Wanda asks.
“Wanda,” You whimper.
“Open your eyes, Malysh.” She raises her hand to rub her thumb against your hand still caressing your face. She takes hold of it before lowering it to lie on the covers between you. She never let's go. You open your eyes slowly to find nothing that you were afraid of.
“I wasn’t mad that Ellie called you Mama,” You repeat your sentiment from earlier. “I was confused. Her calling you Mama made me realize a few things.” Wanda listens. “You’ve been here through it all and yet I’ve never seen you for you until now. My selfless, sweet, Wanda.” You don’t know what you’re saying at this point. All you know is you want Wanda to know how much she means to you.
“I feel the same,” She doesn’t need to you say the words. She knows.
“I can’t believe I didn’t realize all of this time what was right in front of me,” You frown. “I can’t believe how long I wanted to kiss you and I didn’t see it as anything other than platonic.”
“I realized a couple of weeks ago.” You lift your head to rest on your elbows. “When you went out with Danny for the first time. I couldn’t figure out why I was so angry about it. Then I knew why. I wanted it to be me.”
“Wanda, why didn’t you say something?” You ask. “If I knew I wouldn’t have gone out with her.”
“I didn’t want to stand in the way of you finding love again,” Wanda shrugs.
“I don’t love Danny,”
“But you could,” Wanda points out.
“No, I couldn’t.” You say firmly. “Not when I love you.” It’s the first time you’re verbalizing this. “Don’t be a martyr when it comes to your heart, Wanda. Even with me.” You squeeze her hand. “It took me some time but I want you.”
“How do you know that after only a couple of hours?” She asks.
“It hasn’t been a couple of hours,” You shoot back. “It’s been months. The late nights with Ellie. The dinners we have. Our crossword nights. I enjoy them. I look forward to them. We’ve been spending a life together without us even realizing it. I want more with you. If you want it too.”
Wanda surges forward pushing you onto your back as she kisses you with a passion that has you moaning against her lips. The weight of her on top of you is pure bliss. All you can think, feel, and smell is Wanda. Reluctantly she pulls back to take in a deep breath.
“I want it too.” She doesn’t wait for you to answer as she kisses you again.
Five years later
“Mama, Mama, we got ice cream.” Ellie races across the park with your golden retriever, Max, in tow. She’s hanging onto the leash very loosely as she waves around the popsicles she has in her hand. Wanda looks up from her book to inspect the items as Ellie pushes them into her hands. You’re a few feet behind watching as Wanda interacts with the little girl.
“Do you think the baby likes fudgesicles?” Ellie asks as she drops down on the picnic blanket.
“I don’t know, Kiddo, you have to ask him.” You say as you sit next to Max. You watch with pure adoration as Ellie takes it upon herself to lift Wanda’s shirt to expose her swollen belly. Wanda looks over to you with amusement in her eyes.
“Hi baby brother or sister,” Ellie begins. “Mommy told me to ask you if you like Fudgesicles. I bought some for you.” Ellie waits as if she’s truly expecting an answer. “Baby says yes.” She looks up at Wanda for confirmation. Wanda takes the Fudgesicle with gratitude as she licks into it.
“I think baby made a good choice,” Wanda grins. She runs her free hands over Ellie’s brown ringlets to smooth it down a bit.
“Me too,” Ellie says in between licks.
“I think I made a good choice,” You say and Wanda nods. Her too.
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Simmer #3
CH.3 Sunny Side Up | The Menu [4.3K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.
Talking to Eddie became a little easier after that night. Just a little. You greeted each other on morning shifts with tired nods, maybe a small ‘hi’ from you, a grunt from him that you’d learned not to take offence to. You’d watched time and time again as Jonathan brought his coffee to the kitchen, handing Eddie a mocha full of chocolate syrup and the boy received another grunt in thanks too.
The diner became more familiar, as did your colleagues and it made your heart ache a little when you realised you melted into their routines, their little world as easily as they did with each other. Steve knew your favourite song, liked to turn it up when it came on the radio, pointing at you with enough fanfare to make you flush when he sang the lyrics into the end of a wooden spoon.
Robin had invited you to hers, an unofficial girls night after a Sunday late shift that became a habit without meaning to. You shared her apartment space the way she shared yours, leftover pyjama shirts in each other's drawers, rented movies swapped between television sets. And at times, when she was home from college, Nancy would join you both, curled on the loveseat with Robin as they listened to your horror stories from Chicago.
Argyle would offer you rides to work, always passing you on the days you missed the bus, pulling over his brightly painted van with a lazy grin and a yell of “jump in my ‘lil Chicago pizza.”
It was easy, comfortable, a slow kind of life that you craved in the city, the long days and quiet nights that you were more suited to. Hawkins was far from the white picket fence dream, but you loved your little apartment with its view of the cornfields, the long road out of town that you knew took you to work. And when the bus stopped on Sundays and you walked to the diner, you’d pass that old garage the same way you did on your first day in town and wave to Wayne.
It was easy. It was simple.
That Tuesday, you clocked in early after swapping a shift with Nancy, the heat rolling into the side door with you as the sun rose. It was the earliest you’d started and the diner was still quiet, a lack of customers between the midnight hours that the truckers frequented and the breakfast rush. The radio was up louder than usual, the smell of fresh bread coming from the ovens, a huge bowl of batter on the counter beside some chopped strawberries, glittering with sugar.
“Hey! Hey what's the matter with you, feel right? Don't you feel right, baby?”
You could see Jonathan in the front of the diner, setting clean tables with new cutlery, Argyle trailing behind him - not necessarily helping, but definitely talking animatedly about something. Jim was in his office, groaning over receipts and copies of everyone’s vacation requests, two empty mugs of coffee in front of him. You weren’t sure where Ed—
“Jesus, watch it!”
You gasped on instinct as someone collided with your shoulder, a dull pain that wasn’t all that sore but scared you nonetheless. Eddie was glaring at you, holding a hot tray of morning rolls aloft with a dish towel.
“I could’ve fucking burnt you,” he snapped, setting them down on his station with a clatter.
You winced, an apology on your tongue, already tasting sour. “I’m sorry, I didn’t— I didn’t hear you say corner, or, or door or—”
You watched as Eddie’s frown disappeared momentarily, a soft drop of his expression that made you realise at the same time he did, that he didn’t give any of those warnings at all. You thought he’d apologise then, maybe back track with a rare smile but instead his scowl deepened and he set about pulling ingredients out of the fridge.
“Stumbling ‘round like a baby deer, man,” Eddie huffed, his voice low, like you maybe weren’t meant to hear. But you did. “Gonna end up seriously hurtin’ yourself— or someone else. Not supposed to be in the damn kitchen, told you you weren’t made out f—”
Tears burned the corners of your eyes at the first sign of conflict but your heart pounded and you let yourself get wound up. You squared your shoulders, sucked in a breath and let the sting of your eyes and the lump in your throat fuel you. “Hey!” You snapped, only sounding a little watery, a little soft. “It wasn’t— it wasn’t my fault. You’re supposed to tell someone you’re coming if you’re holding something.” You blew out a breath, acutely aware of how Eddie was watching you with raised brows. “Especially something hot. And I don’t stumble.”
You glared right back at the boy, hoping you looked as intimidating as he did, throwing your hands on your hips for good measure until you felt too much like your mom and dropped them back by your side. You squirmed in the silence, pulling self-consciously at the hem of your uniform dress, still trying to keep your lips in an annoyed flat line, your brows as turned down as Eddie’s. Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes, throwing a pound of butter into a huge mixing bowl. It made the station shake with a thud and he turned his back to you before he spoke, shoulders stiff, a tattoo that curled up from his back to the nape of his neck just visible for the way he’d pulled his curl up in a bun.
“Why are you always in such a bad mood? Huh? And I’m allowed in the kitchen,” you added, hating that you sounded haughty, but fuck this boy and his attitude problem. The hot and cold act was starting to wear thin. “I work here too.”
He turned then, the sleeves of his chef whites rolled up to his elbows, ropes of muscle and lines of ink curling around his forearms. His fingers were covered in butter and sugar, and when he took a few steps closer, brows raised at you in a challenge, he smelled like cinnamon. “That right, sweetheart?”
You didn’t back down, even though your stomach flipped. You lifted your chin higher, tried to give it back to him as good as he gave it out. “You think I come here for the good of my health?” You wanted to bite, you wanted to sink your teeth in and draw blood. You wanted to hurt. The taste of honey on fresh sourdough lingered on your tongue. “I heard the food is shit.”
Eddie’s nostrils flared at your childish barb, but as immature as it was, the boy gritted his teeth and stormed back to the work station. The bowls clattered against each, steel on steel and the spatula he’d been using got launched into the empty sink.
“Just stay out my way,” Eddie grunted.
The sharpness of his words made your throat tight, face scrunching unhappily because what had you ever done to him? You decided not to answer, pressing your lips together instead and hoping Eddie didn’t see your watery eyes when you stalked past his table. You ducked into the office, slamming your locker door as you shoved your bag inside, shouldering into Steve by accident on the way back out.
“Oh, sorry— hey, hey,” Steve frowned, catching sight of your face. “What’s wrong?”
You didn’t answer, just smiling and shrugging him off, already pulling out your pad and pen from the front of your apron, as if the quiet diner was suddenly full of people who were desperate for their orders to be taken. You didn’t look at Eddie as you left, disappearing between the table and booths, hoping for something to clean until a table filled up.
You didn’t see it, you didn’t hear it, but Steve walked to Eddie’s station with a scowl that matched the other boy’s and stole the spoon that was in his hand.
“Hey!” Eddie’s head shot up, eyes narrowed, ready for a fight. “Give me th—”
“Stop being a dick,” Steve scolded, holding the spoon over his head when Eddie tried to grab it across the bench. “You’re being an ass, man. And for what?”
Eddie glared, reaching for the stolen utensil and swearing when Steve rapped the back of his knuckles with it. “What’re you even talkin’ about?”
Steve scoffed, “don’t act dumb, Munson, it isn’t cute. What have you got against the new girl?”
Eddie didn’t answer, giving up and crossing the kitchen to rake through a drawer for another spoon instead. He stalked to the refrigerator too, still scowling, piling more ingredients in his arms as he went. He walked back to Steve with eggs and fruit, jars of spices that were all different colours. Steve was still standing, shirt sleeves rolled up, his name badge on upside down.
“Well?”
“Steve, just—” Eddie let out a huff and set a pan on the stovetop, flicking on the switches until a blue flame appeared. It bloomed into red, orange and Eddie spooned some butter into the pan. “I don’t have anything against her.” His cheeks were hot, he could feel it. A pink flush that went across his nose and attacked the tips of his ears. He cracked an egg too vigorously, shell in the yolk, making it burst. He swore.
“No?” Steve didn’t look convinced. He handed Eddie back his spoon. “Doing your damn best to convince her otherwise. Poor kid looked like she was about to cry.”
Eddie’s eyes shuttered closed at that, guilt gnawing a hole in his chest. He cracked another egg, watched it turn white over the heat. He really wanted a cigarette.
The bell for the diner door rang, signalling the arrival of customers, a bleary eyed bunch of business men that looked like they were from out of town. Their suits were too sharp, close shaven beards and briefcases making them look like sore thumbs against the garish decor and sticky booth seats. Both boy’s watched you approach their table, smiling sweetly and nodding shyly as you scribbled down their orders. When you turned to head to the hatch, a piece of paper ready to be slapped onto the stainless steel bar, Eddie watched as the men eyed your behind, appreciative faces and shared whispers about the way your legs looked in your dress.
He cracked another egg, eyes narrowed, chest tighter than before.
“Say sorry,” Steve finalised the conversation with a friendly slap to Eddie’s shoulder as he passed him. You were only a few tables away, head ducked down, eyes hidden as you approached. Steve looked serious as he said, “fix it.”
—————
By the time the clock hit eleven am, Jonathan was coaxing you into going for your break, handing your orders to Steve as he cleared the table your customers just left. He waved away your protests, voice quiet and soft as he handed you the dollar notes that were left for you beside a ketchup stain.
“I’ve got it,” he tsked. “Go on, go get some food or somethin’.”
So you smiled and pulled off your apron as you headed through the back, already sipping on a glass of lemon water you’d poured yourself at the bar. You could hear Steve greet a family at the front door, all charm and sweetness, and the radio in the kitchen was still playing. Breakfast was almost over but the place still smelled sweet, syrup and cinnamon, cooked pancakes and fresh bread, maple bacon that the diners always ordered an extra plate of.
Argyle was at the sink, washing a pot and he smiled as you walked across the tiles. “Wassup Chicago town?” There were bubbles on his arms, a walkman clipped to the waistband of his chef whites and headphones around his neck. “You lookin’ for Eddie?”
You frowned without meaning to, wondering if you could get away with pinching some leftover breakfast without anyone realising. Jim didn’t mind, but Eddie was way too particular with his leftovers.
“Uh, no,” you answered. “Should I be?”
“Think he was lookin’ for you.”
You didn’t get to ask anymore questions, or even laugh at the idea of the chef seeking you out, because Eddie was coming back out from the pantry with a new bag of sugar. His eyes flitted to you as he walked to his bench, cheeks a little pink and he sprinkled some of it over a bowl of chopped fruit before he said anything. He nodded to the stool he made you sit on the other day, the one at his station and it was only then you noticed there was a plate sitting.
Two perfectly cooked eggs, sunny side up with a huge slice of orange that was arranged like a smile. There was a single blueberry in the middle of the plate, plucked from the bowl that Eddie placed beside it, finishing off the smiley faced breakfast.
“You hungry?” Eddie murmured, his voice softer than it had been when you last ran into him. He kept his head bent, curls framing his brown eyes, lips twisted. “You didn’t have breakfast.”
“Wh—?” Your lips parted, your apron still fisted in your hand and you rounded the station slowly, eyes on the boy like you were waiting for the joke to land.
Eddie’s gaze shot from you to the stool and he tilted his chin once more. “Sit.” His demand wasn’t bossy, despite the bluntness. His voice was so much more gentle than you’d heard it before. The frown was still there, the stitch between his brows but his eyes looked softer, honeyed caramel, brown sugar, the stickiest kind of toffee. “Gonna get cold.”
So you sat, looking behind you to glance at Argyle, wondering if this was strange enough for him to take notice too. Sure enough, the boy had stopped scrubbing, his hands still in the hot water as steam rose up around his confused face. He was watching the both of you, eyes glancing between you and Eddie as he tried to work out what was happening.
Eddie turned his back on you as you stared down at the meal he’d made you, eyes still wide and something inside of you sank at the idea of his walking away. But he spun back, a fork and knife in his hand, wrapped in a napkin. He didn’t hand them to you, but he slid them across the counter, his expression neutral - you couldn’t work him out.
“Thank you,” you whispered and Eddie nodded. You wondered if Steve and Jonathan got their breakfast made for them when they went on break, if they came into the kitchen to a bowl of fresh fruit - mangoes and berries and brightly coloured slices of citrus. You thought it would be best not to ask. “Looks good.”
Eddie hummed and nodded, waiting until you picked up your cutlery and unfurled it from the wrapping. He made his leave then, cheeks pink, curls going a little frizzy in the heat and he ducked away, picking up a crate that he took into the freezer, the large door thumping behind him.
The napkin fell to the table as you took out your fork, marvelling over the way the yolk burst perfectly as you dug in, golden liquid pooling across your plate. You picked up the blueberry nose before it got caught, popping it into your mouth and humming at the flavour. And when you looked down, there was a word scrawled across the napkin, faded black ink on white tissue.
“Sorry.”
—————
Eddie made sure he waited long enough for you to be gone by the time he appeared from the walk-in, nose red with the cold, skin goose pimpled under his uniform - because fucking hell, why did he decide to hide in the freezer? He came back out warily, keeping his back against the tiled wall as he peered around the corner. You were gone from his station, your twenty minute break already over and he could see your empty plate and bowl stacked at the sink beside Argyle.
He squared his shoulders and tried to act normal as he stomped back into his kitchen, frown set back on his face but his heart was thundering. It made him feel ill, the way his chest got right, the way his stomach flipped. His station was clear of your plates, but you’d left the napkin there, the corner of it tucked under a plastic quart container so it didn’t float away.
There, in your much neater handwriting and the pink pen you liked to take orders with, was a reply to the boy’s scrawled apology.
“Thank you.”
Eddie stared at the words for too long, until the rosy coloured ink went blurry and his cheeks turned the same shade. He wasn’t sure where you’d gone, but he could smell perfume he assumed was yours, lingering between the stacks of chopped strawberries, the halved mango on the counter.
“You got a crush, my friend?”
Eddie’s head snapped up, a scowl set back on his face instinctually. He liked Argyle, he didn’t mind him at all, but the boy was standing by the sink and was looking at him knowingly. Argyle grinned and raised his brows, waiting for Eddie to answer.
“What? No.” Eddie slammed the napkin back down on the desk. Argyle was still grinning. “Shut up.” Eddie waited until the other boy returned to the dishes before he took the napkin and folded it up, tucking it into his pocket.
He’d bin it later, he told himself. It wasn’t a big deal.
—————
The day Eddie was scheduled off on the rota was a much busier day. It seemed like bad luck, the main cook’s day off coinciding with the monthly farmers market that was set up in Hawkin’s Main Street. The square was filled with stalls, fresh fruit and vegetables in crates, the smell of homemade soap, lavender and rose on the breeze. The tiny storefronts helped funnel the crowds in the direction of the diner, lines of cars driving to the restaurant for breakfast, their trunks full of fresh goods and Mrs Sinclair’s apple pie slices.
It meant your day went too fast, the tips good and the chance of a break slim. Argyle was pushed to his limit, the freezer used more than ever as the full tables called for a quicker turnaround, the frozen burger patties being used instead of the way Eddie liked to make each one fresh. But Eddie wasn’t here and you certainly weren’t thinking about him, so he didn’t need to know. And when your shift ended at five, the dinner rush was just as crazy so you stayed on until six and helped Nancy clear a table of twelve guests, two families from out of town that had too many kids and there were lines of coloured crayon along the walls that just wouldn’t shift until you gave in and brought out a bottle of bleach.
She was grateful enough that she split the table’s tip with you, something you tried to wave away but she insisted and stuffed the dollar bills into the front of your apron, not caring about the stains, the dryer grease, the spilled coffee there. Nancy looked just as undone as you. But it had been a good day - you missed the chance to eat, and maybe get something made for you by Eddie - but you had enough cash rolled up in your purse to start a new stack in your freezer at home and the bus back into town should be due any min—
The bus rolled past before you could get to the stop, the tires squeaking in protest as it passed you by, your feet not able to take you out of the parking lot quick enough. And it was still fine, there was still a little light in the sky, that navy-lilac kinda way that told you nightfall was coming soon, or maybe rain. Maybe both.
So you pulled the strap of your bag across your chest and wished your uniform wasn’t as starchy and tight, ‘cause the heat still lingered even in the evening, warmth collecting in the shadows even as indigo coloured clouds rolled in above. The rain didn’t hit until ten minutes into your walk, a Misty drizzle that had you scrunching your face until it turned into a downpour. A heavy summer storm where thunder shouted at you from the distance, way out across the cornfields and making the sky flash white. You ran down the sidewalk where there weren’t many places to stop, to shelter and you suddenly wished more than ever that you still had your shitty old car that you barely needed to use when you lived in Chicago.
But the garage was coming up, a familiar building with peeling red paint on its walls and a huge shutter that was already closed a third of the way. You hoped and prayed that Wayne was still around, wondering if it would be too cheeky to ask if you could finally take him up on the offer of that ride he once asked if you needed. Weeks of passing by and waving to him - and offering a snickerdoodle from the box you once took into work for Jonathan’s birthday - had built up a quiet sort of friendship.
The garage was quiet and the bell sounded as you pushed open the door, the workshop floor stained with oil and paint, leftover footprints that would never clean off. Cars sat asleep, some with their hoods up, engines ripped out and dismantled on the floor, and thank god, there was still a light on in the office. A warm glow through a window, the outline of a man sorting through papers and his head lifted when he heard you bump into the side of a workbench, a tool you didn’t know the name of clattering to the floor.
You winced and raised your hand in a greeting and an apology. “Sorry, hi— I just— it’s raining.”
Wayne laughed after he got over his surprise, beckoning you in with an oil stained hand. His tiny office smelled like gas and burnt tires but his smile was as friendly and tired as it always was. “Miss the bus?” He asked.
You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest. Out of the summer air, the garage was cooler and you were drenched, goosebumps trailing across your forearms. “Drove right by me.”
Wayne tutted, sympathetic and he pushed what looked like a stack of invoices into a tray for tomorrow. “That’ll be that Hagan boy, never should’ve been allowed the job. Doesn’t pay any darned attention to nobody.” The man patted down his pockets, searching for his keys. “Jus’ gimme a minute and I’ll drop you off, think the boy took my damn keys. Hey, son—”
Another figure appeared in the doorway, cutting off Wayne’s call. This man was tall and broad shouldered, with dark curls that weren’t tied back. They hit his shoulders, wild strands springing around brown eyes that quickly widened at the sight of you.
“What the fuck are you doin’ here?”
“Hey!” Wayne snapped with a frown. He whacked the boy���s shoulder with a rolled up newspaper he grabbed from his desk. “That’s no way to speak to a lady. I raised you better than that, you little delinquent.”
Eddie looked astonishingly different out of his chef whites and your surprise showed on your face. Out of his uniform, you could see more skin, more ink. Tattoos curling around his forearms and creeping up towards his biceps, black leaking across lithe muscles that you didn’t get to see at work. He was all dark, black jeans with rips in the knees, a black T-shirt that was well worn, the band logo on the front unrecognisable from wear and from the fact that your music taste was wildly different.
Jewellery he didn’t get to wear glitter on him, silver rings on almost every finger, skulls and orjer horned things around his knuckles, a silver chain peeking out from underneath his collar. There was a hole in the hem of his shirt, heavy scuff marks on his big boots. He was still scowling at you though, a familiar sight that made him look more like the Eddie you knew.
You glanced at Wayne, still confused as to why he was scolding the line cook from your work. You looked back to Eddie, lips trying to wrap around an explanation. He made you feel like you weren’t supposed to be here. “I— the bus. I missed the bus.” You swallowed, an awful shyness coming over you, or maybe it was nerves. “It’s raining.”
The weather was making itself known as the storm closed in, heavy, fat drops of rain pounding on the tin roof of the garage, a deafening roar that only got heavier.
“Yeah, no shit.” Eddie called back, raising his voice to be heard over the din and his cheek got him another smack from Wayne.
“You better hope I don’t find out you talk like that in the kitchen, boy,” Wayne pointed an accusatory finger at Eddie, to which the boy merely rolled his eyes at. “I’ll ask Jim, he’ll tell me.” When Eddie didn’t reply, Wayne pulled on his jacket and set about collecting more sheets of paper. He asked Eddie for his keys and pocketed them before saying, “Ed’s, be a good ‘un and take my friend here home, yeah? I gotta finish up this mess.”
When Eddie raised his brows and dropped his jaw, you were pretty sure your expression was the same. Except you were burning, both at the embarrassment of Wayne being so sweet and the idea of having to spend time with Eddie alone.
“Friend?” Eddie scoffed. “Since when?”
You wanted the floor to open up below you. “I can, I can just walk.” You jammed a thumb at the door, at the torrential rain that was still falling angrily outside of it. “I think the rain has stopped…”
Thunder bellowed from above. A leak in the corner of the work floor dripped onto an old tire. Wayne stared at you both, unimpressed.
And that’s how you ended up in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson drabble#linecook!eddie
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Babysitting Has Its Perks 🖤🐰 (Big Bro!Choso x Big Bro!Dabi x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)
Pairing: Choso x Black!Fem!Reader x Touya “Dabi” Todoroki
Synopsis: You’ve been babysitting kids as a side hustle for a while now to get extra money. You have your regulars, one of them being a doctor’s cute little son Yuji. Though the pay is good, you admit that the main reason you come back to babysit the kid is because of his sexy older brother Choso. On Halloween, when Choso gets caught up in a pinch, he hits you up last minute to babysit Yuji and his bandmate’s little brother. You think this will be an easy night…until you meet Choso’s bandmate Dabi…and you decide to wear a bunny costume…and you realize just how much your secret crush and his hot friend love bunny girls.
Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Musician!Choso + Dabi; Big Bro/Family AU; Band AU; Nerdy!Reader; Highkey Flirting; Weed + Alcohol Consumption; High + Drunk Sex; Dubcon; R*pe; Threesome; Sex Tape; Facefucking; Cunnilingus; Fingering; Nipple Sucking; Double Deepthroat; Choso + Dabi Got Big Cocks; Degradation/Praise; Dom!Choso + Dabi/sub!Reader; Roleplay; Doggystyle; NO CONDOM; Reader Cums 2x; Facials; Aftercare
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer’s Note: I’ve had this nasty little idea for a hot minute now tee hee!! 🤭 Originally, it was supposed to be just a Choso one shot, but then I thought “Damn….it’d be so hot if Dabi did this too”. So I made a lil crossover one shot for spooky day. I hope y’all enjoy! -Jazz
***********
“Are you my big bro’s girlfriend?”
This was the first thing little Yuji asked you the first time you showed up to babysit him. You stood on the steps of the white picket-fenced house belonging to Nanami Kento, a busy doctor who sought you out for your babysitting services on your LinkedIn.
It was September then and a mild night that only called for light layers. You were dressed in a cardigan that you paired with a clingy, white baby tee, hip-hugging jeggings, and flats. You wanted to be casual but still mild mannered since you were at a doctor’s home. You had giggled at the boy’s cuteness and replied, “Close. I’m your new babysitter!”
The little pink-haired boy with the rosy cheeks and a gap tooth had grinned happily at you before turning around and yelling, “CHOSO, YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS MY NEW BABYSITTER!”
“YUJI!” someone yelled back. You had giggled at Yuji’s antics until you actually saw Choso for the first time and started thinking that maybe being confused for his girlfriend wasn’t such a bad thing. As soon as he came to the door in his sweats and polo socks, your smile fell.
The man was fine. He had a face straight out of a dream with his black hair in two spiked ponytails that reminded you so much of Garu from your favorite cartoon ‘Pucca’. He was tall and big, much bigger than you thanks to your cursed short stack height, with broad shoulders and big arms roped in tattoo sleeves that started at his shoulders and cascaded down to his wrists. His thick fingers were coated in metal rings and his nails were painted black.
You thought briefly of what they’d feel like wrapped around your throat or…somewhere else.
The man was also shirtless. His porcelain skin looked soft to the touch, only touched by some tattoos here and there that added to his sexiness. There was one of Yuji’s name on his collarbone; a black heart with a knife jutting out of it on his right neck near his pierced nipple, a silver ball glinting back at you from both of the pebbled, pink peaks; a serpent slithering from his narrow left hip bone down, down, down under the waistband of his sweats that sat dangerously low on his hips, revealing his smooth, toned stomach and V-line.
You must’ve been standing there looking like a damn idiot because Yuji tugged on your hand. “Hellooo?” he sang. “Hey, are you okay?”
You blinked, suddenly back in your body after going up and beyond. Choso was also staring at you, his pierced brow raised in confusion.
“O-Oh, yeah!” you squeaked, wincing at your high-pitched voice. Quickly, you fixed your glasses and cleared your throat. “Yeah, sorry, m’fine. I-I’m—"
“The new babysitter,” Choso finished, his lips quirking into a small smile. His bottom lip looked so plump and soft, pierced with a silver ring you wanted to tug on. “Yeah, my dad told me about you. Sorry about…” He motioned down his bare upper torso, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.
His blush was so attractive that you nearly melted at his feet. He was so endearing and so sexy. “I was changin’ and wanted to stop this rugrat from answerin’ the door when he’s not supposed to.” He tugged on Yuji’s ear, making the boy giggle and swat at his hand. “Y/N, right?”
Realizing he was asking you your name, your brain stopped short-cuiriting for a moment to answer. “Y-Yeah,” you stammered. “And you’re—“
“Choso,” a deep, firm voice said from inside, prompting Choso to roll his pretty, violet eyes. “What did I tell you about answering the door without a shirt on?”
The older brother turned to the even finer blonde who came to the door in a pristinely clean tailored suit. “I only did that one other time ‘cause of those stupid kids prankin’ us,” he scoffs. “Lock the doors next time so Yuji doesn’t answer.”
Nanami went to argue back, but realizing you were standing there awkwardly, he stopped. “Oh, Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were here this early.”
“I hope you don’t mind,” you replied as he and Choso let you into their tasteful, cozy home, Choso holding a giggling Yuji under his arm like a puppy. “I know you have a doctors’ dinner to go to, so I figured I’d come early.”
“Not at all,” Nanami sighs, sounding relieved. “I thank you for that. Please come in.” You did so and you were officially introduced to Nanami’s two boys, little Yuji and his big brother Choso before Nanami left for a doctors’ banquet.
Choso was in a rock band as a drummer and songwriter, so he had to leave too for a gig. Yuji had begged and pleaded to go with him to which Choso reminded him that kids aren’t allowed in 21+ spaces. As soon as you discovered that he was in a band, you were way more intrigued to know Yuji’s sexy, 6-foot-something brother.
No wonder he had such big arms! You’d glad let him wrap those guns around you and squeeze your head like a melon, giving it a personal bear hug. However, you kept your deviant thoughts to yourself.
You were professional. You were good. You were…kinda nerdy. You’d like to think your profile pic of you in your glasses was what gave Nanami the final impression to hire you as his personal babysitter. Since he is a busy doctor and Choso is a busier musician, someone had to look after little Yuji.
That night, you and Yuji played games, watched cartoons, and you ordered pizza and French fries for him that you both scarfed down with some orange soda (Yuji’s favorite). When Nanami came home, he paid you handsomely and thanked you again for watching his son.
Since that night a month ago, you’ve been Yuji’s personal babysitter. You watch him most weekdays when everyone is at work or on Saturday nights if no one else is around. Out of all of the kids you currently babysit, he’s your favorite. He is just too stinking cute!
You love babysitting that boy, plus the money is great. As a college girl, you need it. But there is also one more perk to your babysitting service that you refuse to admit. You feel like a pervert even thinking it, but getting an eyeful of Choso every time you walk into his house is more than enough for you to stay.
Your pathetic crush on the drummer has grown since the first night you met him. You can’t help it! Not only is he cute, but he’s also a great brother to Yuji. Seeing him goof around and tickle the tiny boy is enough to make you want to be bred by him and have his babies.
He fills your thoughts at night, prompting you to cum on your fingers and use your trusty rose until you’re sobbing his name into your pillow. You’ve thought so many times about asking him out or attending one of his shows. You want him bad like a habit…
But you won’t dare say anything. This is your job! You could fuck up some good money just because you want to fuck the kid you babysit’s big brother. And you won’t dare do that to yourself or Nanami who trusts you with his child. So you bite back your feelings and admire Choso from afar….until one night.
On a cool Halloween with autumn finally here and the leaves crunching under your feet, you leave a local cafe, your other part time job, and arrive at an empty house. Your mom is working overnight at the hospital as a nurse and has left you to your own devices. You know she’ll be late since it’s Halloween which means endless hours of greasy takeout, reading, spooky movies, and private time with your toy. No Halloween parties for you.
After changing out of your clothes, tying your kinky hair in a quick puff, and taking a hot shower with your cinnamon roll-scented body wash, you wrap yourself in a towel and head to your room to begin your quiet night in when your phone rings.
When you check your phone, you nearly drop it at the caller ID. Choso. He gave you his number along with Nanami for work purposes and to contact him if anything went wrong while you babysat Yuji. You take a deep breath to ease your vigorously pounding heart. ‘Just be cool, bitch. You know him. He’s just the older brother of the kid you babysit.’
After some seconds of mental preparations, you answer and clear your throat. “HHello?” you breathlessly stammer, very clearly affected by Choso’s call.
‘Fuck!’
“Hey, Y/N, it’s me, Choso,” he answers, his voice causing a warm feeling to curl in your core. He has such a sexy voice. “Of course, it’s me. You’ve got my number. Sorry, forget I said that.” He sighs, sounding like he’s fed up with himself the way you are with yourself.
He becomes even more endearing and much more boyfriend material-y right there. “It’s cool,” you giggle, lying back on your bed in your towel. “What’s goin’ on? Is Yuji okay?”
“Yeah, he’s fine,” he replies with a chuckle. “He’s been askin’ about you. I swear the kid’s got a crush on you.” You laugh, taking your hair out of your scrunchie and running a hand through your kinks. “Well, he’s a wonderful kid.” And you mean it. Yuji is so goofy and sweet and listens to everything you say, probably because Nanami made him promise to. Either way, he’s a joy to take care of.
“Listen,” Choso begins, sounding uncertain, “I feel really bad for askin’ you this, but…are you doin’ anythin’ tonight?” Your brain suddenly short circuits and your cool bedroom feels stuffy and hot. “Uh….n-no,” you stammer. “Just at home watchin’ Halloween movies and stuff, but that’s it. I just got off from work at the cafe.” You hope that didn’t sound too lame.
“Oh, I forgot you had another job,” Choso tsks, sounding stressed out. “Shit, I’ll probably just have to cancel then.” You sit up now, concerned. “What? What’s goin’ on?”
Choso sighs once more and you feel bad for the guy. He sounds positively frustrated. “My dad is out of town until tomorrow for a doctor’s conference and I was put in charge of watchin’ Yuji, but I forgot I got a gig for a Halloween show at a bar tonight. One of my bandmates is already here and we need to leave in, like, two hours.”
“Oh, okay!” you immediately perk at the chance to see him and make more money. “I can be over there in, like, twenty minutes.”
He lightly laughs at your eagerness. ”Well, before you say yes, there’s a catch: my bandmate Dabi needs someone to watch his kid brother too. He’s the same age as Yuji but very quiet and chill, won’t give you any trouble. If you’re okay with watchin’ two kids at the same time, we’d really appreciate it and pay you double when we get home from the gig.”
You don’t even have to think it over. “I’ve watched five kids at once before. I can handle two. I’ll be over there in twenty.” Choso exhales in relief. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re a lifesaver,” he sighs. “I could fuckin’ kiss you right now. Oh, and Yuji and Dabi’s brother are goin’ trick-or-treating tonight if you wanna go with ‘em. See you over here soon and thank you!”
He hangs up before you can make a fool out of yourself over the ‘kiss you’ line. When you take the phone away from your ear, your face is flaming. Quickly, you hurry to brush your teeth, slather on some deodorant, and drown yourself in your favorite vanilla coco body mist that makes you smell like a baked goodie.
Then you dig into your closet for a costume for the kids. You find your costume from last year—fluffy, white bunny ears and a cotton tail. Basic, but it’ll do. You pair it with a white, body-con bodysuit, a skirt that stops mid-thigh, some stockings, and Mary Jane shoes. After applying some Fenty Gloss and mascara, you finally feel cute enough. Quickly, you grab your coat, phone, and bag before heading to your car.
Nanami’s house is only a ten-minute drive, so you get there by 7:45 PM. After parking, you hurry to the front door and ring the doorbell, mentally preparing yourself for another shirtless Choso (hopefully). But to your shock, it isn’t Choso who answers the door.
This man is fine if not finer than Choso. He is just as tall and slightly lanky but sinewy with muscle that is exposed underneath his loose-fitted tank top. He is all tattoos—roping up and down his arms, across his chest, on his thick neck.
Piercings, too. You can see two silver balls glinting through the exposed armholes of his tank puncturing his pink nipples. His left eyebrow and bottom lip are pierced too, giving him an almost dangerous look. The jet-black hair, ripped jeans, boots, and piercing blue eyes are the icing on the cake. He is the damn poster child for the guy good girls shouldn’t want.
His eyes lazily trail up and down your form as he leans against the doorframe. “So,” he says in a raspy drawl that nearly steals your panties, “you’re the little babysitter Choso’s been talkin’ ‘bout. Y/N, right?”
You struggle to find your voice. You feel so small and bug-like standing before such a man. You feel uncomfortable yet aroused, your panties tightening beneath your skirt. “Y-Yeah,” you stutter, gulping. “Dabi?”
He nods, the corner of his mouth tilting upward. “The guitarist,” he explains. “Sorry to interrupt your night, but we’re in a pinch. Somebody had to watch our kid brothers and apparently, you fit the bill.” His eyes roam up to your ears before trailing down your body, checking out your outfit. “Clearly.” You don’t know if you should’ve worn your skirt or not now.
“Dabi, stop flirtin’ with my babysitter!” Choso yells from inside before showing himself. Just as you hoped, he is shirtless except for a mesh top that shows off his impressive upper torso and tatted skin, jeans, and boots. His spiked hair is down for tonight and his eyes are rimmed in black liner.
It’s like the universe is playing a cruel joke on you putting you here with two sexy guys despite your awkward ass. “Hey, Y/N,” Choso greets you, flashing those whites at you. “Come in. Yuji is changin’ into his costume and Shoto is right here.”
He practically yanks Dabi out of the way to let you inside. Sitting on the couch is a little boy with multi-colored red and white hair and blue eyes like Dabi dressed in a vampire costume. You nearly swoon from the cuteness. He stares at you mutely as you come into the house.
“Sho, this is Y/N,” Dabi says, nodding at you. “She’s your babysitter for tonight. You say hello?” The little boy mutely looks at you. “Hi,” he says in a soft, bland voice. You wave at him, keeping a bright smile on your face.
“He’s a lil’ shy, but he won’t give you no trouble,” Dabi whispers as Shoto eats some carrot sticks. “Thanks again for doin’ this. I would’ve asked my siblings, but my brother is a big-time athlete and my sis is an overnight nurse.”
“Oh, it’s no problem,” you say, offering a kind smile. “I wasn’t doing much tonight anyways.” Dabi’s brows raise curiously and you immediately know that this was the wrong thing to say. “On Halloween? What, no parties or nothin’?”
You slowly shake your head, nervously smiling. “I just got off work earlier when Choso called…a-and I’m not much of a party person.” It’s so lame, but it’s true. You much prefer your books and solitude to sweaty bodies and drunk messes.
“Really?” Dabi asks, sounding humored. “Then that’s some outfit. You wear that for the kids?” His eyes, as blue as Arctic water, intensely stare at you like he’s attempting to turn you into a puddle.
Before you can think of an answer, footsteps thud down the stairs and you all turn to see Yuji in a Spider-Man costume. “Look, Y/N! I’m your friendly neighborhood Spidey!” He jumps down, lands on the bottom step, and hits a squatting pose.
You clap your hands at his superhero landing. “You look amazing, Yuji!” you squeal. “You and Shoto are gonna get sooo much candy!”
Choso walks up to Yuji with a backpack and a leather jacket, checking his water. “We’ve gotta go, squirt,” he says, ruffling Yuji’s pink hair. “Be good for Y/N and don’t eat all your candy unless you wanna be on the shitter, okay?”
Yuji giggles hysterically, slapping Choso’s arm. “You said a bad word, Chosi!” His big brother puts a finger to his lips before turning to you. “Thanks again for doin’ this. A couple of kids will be over soon to go trick-or-treatin’ with them around the block, so just let ‘em in.”
You nod, sending Choso and Dabi off with a wave from the door along with Yuji and Shoto. Five minutes later, four little kids come walking up to the door wearing costumes—a green-haired, freckle-faced ghost, a platinum-blonde werewolf, a brunette little girl dressed like Gwen Stacy, and a black-haired Venom.
“Well,” you coo, smiling at the group, “look what we have here! Are y’all Yuji and Shoto’s friends?” The ghost and Gwen Stacy nod. “Is Shoto here?” the ghost asks. “We’re here to go trick-or-treating with him!”
“Yuji too,” Gwen Stacy adds. “He’s trying to beat Megumi for the most candy bars.” She nudges Venom—Megumi—who rolls his eyes.
“Well, let me go get ‘em and we’ll go together,” you say before hurrying to scoop up your boys. Once everyone has their candy bags together, you lock the door with the key Choso left for you. “Now, let’s get some candy!” You shout, earning some cheers before Yuji and the werewolf—who you learn is Bakugou—race off to the first house.
For the next two ½ hours, you slowly walk behind the group from house to house, knocking on doors for candy, keeping the kids out of the street, and politely declining pervy men who take interest in your costume.
By the time you get home, you’re exhausted and trick-or-treating kids have long since gone home. Shoto’s brother Natsu comes to pick up Shoto to bring him home while you put Yuji to bed after too much candy. For the rest of your time there before Choso and Dabi return, you clean up wrappers, read your book, scrolling through Pinterest, and watch horror movies.
By midnight, you’ve fallen asleep on the couch in your costume, and the end credits to ‘Coraline’ on the TV. When you hear the door click open, you shoot up in surprise, your bunny ears falling off of your head and drool dripping down your chin.
The door cracks open, revealing Dabi smoking a cigarette. “Oops,” he chuckles, grinning at you. “Looks like we woke the bunny.”
Quickly, you wipe the spit off of your face and fix your bunny ears, blushing in embarrassment. You didn’t realize you fell asleep. Choso walks in the house with him, smelling of cigarette smoke and sweat. He gives you a warm smile as he shuts the door. “Hey, you. How were they?”
You smile and stand, smoothing out your skirt. “Like little angels. Yuji is asleep and Shoto was picked up by his brother.” Dabi rolls his eyes at the mention of Natsu as he stubs his cigarette out in an ashtray on the coffee table near your leg. “Yeah, the asshole called and told me to crash here tonight ‘cause he knows I’m fucked up.”
Now that he’s closer, you can see the slightly unfocused look in his blue eyes that can only be accomplished with alcohol. “I’m guessing the gig went well?” The guitarist nods, moving to sit on the couch where you just once were. “Well, we made a bunch of money and signed some titties, so yeah.”
Choso rolls his eyes, chucking a pillow at him. Dabi catches it with one hand. “Shut up. Speakin’ of money…”
He digs into his bag for his phone and clicks a couple buttons. Seconds later, your phone dings with a CashApp alert for $550. “From Dabi and me to you for your services,” he says, giving you a wink that makes your stomach flip.
“Oh, it was no problem, really!” you say with a reassuring smile, though your body sings with joy over the money.
Choso walks over to the couch and plops down with a tired huff, throwing his boots up on the table with Dabi’s. “So you goin’ home?” he curiously asks. “Y’know, you’re welcome to crash here tonight till tomorrow. The streets are packed tonight and those ears might attract the wrong crowd.”
He gives you a joking smirk, evident that he’s kidding. Dabi snickers as he rises from the couch, passing by you with a glint in his eye that makes you feel as if he isn’t joking. “Like we aren’t?” he asks, his voice causing chills to slither down your spine like a snake.
He walks to the kitchen, his walk lazy and slow like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Choso sits on the couch, arms slung over the back and his thighs pried open as if attempting to convince you to stay. “Thanks, but I couldn’t.” You pause, grabbing your bag. “I don’t wanna overstep or—“
“Please,” he scoffs, cutting you off. “You’ve been watchin’ my kid brother for a month! You’re practically family. Plus, we’ve got beer and some weed if you smoke.” Dabi comes back minutes later with three beer bottles, chilled and appetizing. “We’re celebratin’,” he announces with a crooked smirk as he sits down next to Choso.
“An hour then? Just to wait out the traffic?” Choso suggests as Dabi passes him a bottle. You watch the guitarist slip a baggie of marijuana out of his back pocket along with a pack of papers. “But only if you feel comfortable,” Choso adds as if sensing your apprehension.
The two make it a point to leave a space for you between them. You gnaw on your bottom lip, gripping the strap to your bag. You know if you say yes then a world of trouble could open up for you…but you also don’t want to say no. They haven’t done anything to make you feel uncomfortable or uneasy. “Just an hour,” you decide. “I’ll take a beer.”
You slowly place your bag within arm’s reach and sit between them, keeping your thighs clenched tight together and your hands in your lap. You sit rigidly, unsure of what to do. “I didn’t think you drank,” Dabi comments, sounding interested. “You don’t look the type.”
He pops the cap off of the bottle with his teeth before handing it to you. “Ignore him,” Choso says, smirking at his friend. “He teases, but he’s got a thing for the glasses.” You take a sip of the beer to calm your frazzled nerves, the different scents of the two men—cologne, cigarettes, some kind of spicy-smelling soap—mingling into one intoxicating mixture.
“You mean nerdy girls,” you correct him, cracking a smile. “It’s okay, I know I’m a nerd.” Choso laughs, taking a sip of his beer. “Nothin’ wrong with that. I think it’s cool.”
His cheeks glow with a slight blush that somehow turns you on. Dabi snorts from beside you, gently sprinkling crushed weed into one of the papers on the coffee table. “You mean hot. Don’t try to front.” Choso gives him the finger. “Shut the fuck up and roll the damn blunt, asshole.”
Dabi gives him the bird right back but continues to roll his blunt. You watch his fingers expertly work to pinch, roll, squeeze. You would think he’d be good with his hands since he’s a guitarist. They’d probably feel so good inside of you, curling up against that spot that would make you see stars.
“Wanna hit?” he suddenly asks. You blink, realizing that he’s talking to you. He holds the blunt between his forefinger and thumb, smoke billowing from between his lips. You grow hot suddenly, both out of embarrassment for fading out on him because of your dirty mind and uncertainty. “O-Oh, I’ve never…”
Dabi’s brows raise. “You never had weed before? Not even an eddy?”
It doesn’t take a village idiot to figure out that he means an edible. You slowly shake your head, glowing with embarrassment over your squareness. The guitarist breaks into a humored and interested smile like a wolf who realizes he’s got his prey. “Well, shit, aren’t you proper. We’ve gotta fix that.”
“Dabi, don’t corrupt her,” Choso barks. “She’s still our babysitter.”
The guitarist shoots him a bored look. “And she deserves some relaxation after a long, gruelin’ day.” He turns to you, his blue eyes a sea of sin and hot promises. “Don’t you, bunny?” he whispers before puffing on the blunt.
You watch him wrap his lips around the blunt and his cheeks hollow as he inhales. When he pulls away, he puckers his lips and sends an O-shaped smoke ring floating out from between them as well as releasing a steady stream out of his nostrils. He then turns and hands it to you.
With a gulp, you take it and hold it to your wavering lips. You look at Choso for help who is happy to assist with his words: “Inhale slow, hold, and then exhale.”
You do as he says and wrap your lips around the blunt before slowly inhaling. As soon as the smoke invades your lungs, you hold it and then slowly exhale. Though you cough a bit, making the bandmates laugh, the weed already takes effect and makes you feel light, fuzzy, and warm.
“Good girl,” Dabi draws, watching you with a rather predatory gaze. “So she listens, too.” Choso watches you too, creating a very uncomfortable feeling for you in your stomach that you stupidly try to squash with some more beer.
“S-So…uh, tell me about your show tonight,” you stammer, wanting desperately to change the subject and take this situation somewhere less risky.
They respect your decision and tell you about their night playing in a small, sweat-and-alcohol-soaked bar. They also talk about you, asking you about classes, work, your hobbies. You initially feel uncomfortable talking about yourself, but the more you drink and the more you puff on Dabi’s blunt, the less harder it becomes.
You should’ve stopped at one puff. You should’ve stopped after a few sips of beer too. But it’s too late for you now. The weed and the alcohol work their magic on you before you even realize it.
Everything around you feels fuzzy and your skin feels tingly. Choso and Dabi’s voices are thick in your eardrums which feel as if they are stuffed with cotton. You can’t quite comprehend everything they say because they sound so far away and your brain is processing everything at a glacial pace.
You slump against the couch, your eyes fluttering closed and your head feeling heavy. You want to sleep. You want to shut off the movie playing—some 90s slasher flick that Choso put on—, stick your head under the covers, and be plunged into darkness. “Y/N?” Choso asks. “Baby, you still here with us?” He is suddenly closer to you, his hand on your knee. It feels warm and makes your body tingle…especially one part in particular.
Dabi sounds closer too. He’s actually moved closer to you and you just didn’t realize it. When you open your eyes to stare into his piercing, blue ones, he smiles. “Ooooh, the weed’s got her,” he chuckles. “Look at those eyes. She’s gone.” Choso stares at you worriedly, keeping his hand on your knee.
In contrast, Dabi is more daring and lays his hand on your thigh. The surprise contact causes you to giggle, nervously and shyly. The weed has created a thick fog around you where everything feels good and nice. “You’re both so pretty,” you deliriously say. “So sexy.”
Despite your sluggish mind, you know you weren’t supposed to say that. Choso and Dabi share a look, one that you can’t identify. The guitarist smirks at you, his hand trailing farther up your thigh and giving it a firm squeeze.
“Oh, yeah, baby? We think you’re sexy too.” His other hand moves to cup your chin, emitting a small gasp from you. “And pretty…so goddamn pretty.”
His thumb gently pries your bottom lip down, showing him your teeth. He watches intently as the plump flesh pops back into place, his pupils dilating at the sight. He is so close…too close.
You don’t know what to do. Your heart hammers rapidly against your ribcage as he leans in. Or do you lean in? You can’t remember quite well when his lips are on yours.
You squeak in surprise, your shoulders tensing. It’s the only movement you can make with his hands on you. You’re like a terrified rabbit frozen in place as his hand grips your jaw, keeping you still as his mouth envelops yours. His lips are soft yet rough and demanding, practically bruising your lips as he kisses the lipgloss off of them. His piercing is cool against your tongue which swirls against his, only because he demands it. You felt it swipe against your bottom lip at one point, forcing himself inside of your mouth.
You’ve never been kissed in such a way before. Dabi takes and takes and takes yet forces you to take what he gives you. His hands find your ass, trailing up underneath your skirt, drawing a soft moan out of you. “You like that, baby?” he murmurs against your lips. “I knew you wanted this. It was just a matter of time.”
“Mmm-mmm.” This is all you can say or even utter as his tongue dances with yours, giving you a taste of his piercing dug into the pink muscle. His hands squeeze your ass so hard that it hurts, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. You’re helpless to stop him.
You become even more helpless in the situation when you suddenly feel another set of hands on you caressing your body. “Don’t be fuckin’ greedy, Dabi,” Choso growls. “This is my house, remember?”
Dabi pulls away and gives his friend a cocky smirk just as Choso’s hand presses against your cheek. He turns you to face him and his eyes, hooded from the weed and lust. “C-Choso…”
All you can utter out is a soft exhale of his name before his lips covers yours, swooping you up in a hot, wanton kiss. His kiss is less rough than Dabi’s, but it’s just as sloppy, your tongues hotly swirling with each others. At one point, Choso sucks on your tongue and stares into your eyes as he does it, leaving you a panting, wet mess.
“You taste so good,” he whispers. “I’ve been wantin’ this for so long, baby. You have no idea.”
His hands cup your cheeks, bringing you in for more. You find yourself pressed against him and Dabi both, their bodies like brick walls trapping you between them. “I think she has too. Why else would she wear such a slutty lil’ outfit?” His hands trail up your bodysuit, cupping your tits over the fabric. “I bet you wore this just for us, didn’t you, slutty girl?”
He begins roughly massaging your breasts, causing goose pimples to explode over your skin as Choso kisses your neck. You whimper at Dabi’s degrading words. “I-I’m not a—“
You’re cut off with your own gasp as Dabi pinches each of your nipples through the bodysuit, sending sparks of pain throughout your nerve endings. “Shut the fuck up,” he growls. “That’s what they all fuckin’ say until they’ve got a cock in front of ‘em…and I bet that’s what you really want, ain’t it, bunny?” He leans in and trails his tongue down your neck, creating a line of his saliva on your skin.
A soft moan escapes you as Choso begins playing with your left ear, gently nibbling along your earlobe. Dabi follows suit and plays with your right until both of them are teasing your ears with kisses, licks, nibbles, and moans that have you squirming between them.
Your body feels like it’s overheating and your pussy…you’ve never been so wet before. Is it from the weed? The alcohol? Them?
Choso trails a hand between your thighs, prying them apart to get a feel of your panties. “You look so cute in this costume, baby…so fuckin’ cute.” His index and middle fingers press into your panties, making your toes curl. “Choso, please,” you whine.
He pulls away from your ear, staring deeply into your eyes. “What is it, baby?” he asks. “What do you need? You want us to stop?”
You blink at him, overwhelmed and hornier than you’ve ever been in your life. “I….I….” You don’t know what you want or need. You want to leave, but you also don’t. It feels wrong, but also so right.
Dabi disagrees, yanking the straps to your bodysuit down. You yelp as your tits fall out and are exposed to the two musicians who ogle at them. “Her body ain’t sayin’ no,” he chuckles. “Check out these tits. Look at how hard these nipples are.” He begins to slurp your nipples, his tongue and teeth running over the sensitive peaks.
You gasp, biting your lip as Choso begins stroking you through your panties that continue to secrete moisture. “Fuck, babe, look at you,” he sighs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You need attention, don��t you?”
Dabi bites your nipple, sending shocks of pain throughout your body. “Ah!” you cry out. “W-Wait! Yuji might hear us!” Choso chuckles, still stroking, “He won’t. That kid can sleep through a murder.” Dabi tears himself away from you, glaring. “Now shut the fuck up and open your legs for us.”
With your nerves frazzled, you slowly open your legs…with some help. Choso and Dabi’s big hands pry you open to reveal your soaked panties underneath your skirt. “Just as I thought,” the guitarist tuts. “Look at how wet she is for us, bro. She barely knows us and yet, here she is with a soaked fuckin’ pussy.”
He pries your panties to the side, revealing your puffy, pretty, wet cunt to them both. You gasp as the cold air hits your sensitive skin. “Wow, baby,” Choso says in awe, his eyes slightly wide. “You’re so, so wet for us. Good enough to taste.” He sucks on his index and middle fingers before proceeding to gently rub your clit.
Two other fingers do the same, rubbing up and down your slit. “Good enough to eat,” Dabi adds. “You’d love that wouldn’t you, bunny? You want the big, bad wolves to eat you right up, don’t you?” He sinks his fingers into your pussy, just stopping at his fingertips.
You moan, gripping the duo’s big, beefy arms for dear life as the two play with your gushing pussy. “Fuck!” you gasp. What else can you say?
Dabi tsks disappointedly, teasing you further by curling his fingers up. “That ain’t an answer, baby girl.” Combined with his fingers shallowly fucking you and Choso rubbing your clit, you can’t process anything but how good you feel. “Yes! Yes, please!” You whine, your toes curling in your Mary Jane’s.
Like a killer who has caught his next victim, Dabi grins. He slides his digits out of you, sucks your wetness off of them, and slinks off of the couch to kneel in front of you. “Keep these fuckin’ thighs open,” he demands, eyes glaring into Choso’s. “I don’t want her doin’ shit while I’ve got my tongue in her.”
Choso grips your left leg and pins it open while Dabi takes the right until you’re completely open and exposed to Dabi’s pierced tongue. “Look over here, baby. Look at what you’ve done to me.”
Choso turns your face to meet him where he is fumbling to unzip his pants with his other hand. You watch him peel down his briefs to reveal his happy trail and a very hard, very pretty, very much throbbing and dripping cock.
Dabi nips at your thigh, scowling at you. “Well, don’t just leave him like that,” he scolds. “Stroke that dick. Take some fuckin’ accountability.”
With a shaky hand, you wrap your hand around Choso’s cock and begin to stroke it while Dabi begins to sloppily eat your pussy.
You and Choso moan at the same time, both of you overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure you’re receiving. Dabi’s tongue is skilled, teasing your folds as he slides it along your slit and up to your clit. You stroke Choso’s cock in time with his bandmate’s tongue strokes, trying to focus on two things at the same time.
“Shit,” Choso groans. “You’re so good at this, baby girl, fuck…”
His cute face is etched with pleasure, his eyes hooded and his cheeks flushed as he stares at you pumping his cock. Dabi stares too, still slurping away at your cunt. When the silver ball in his tongue hits your clit, you jump and let out a squeak. “You like that tongue piercing, huh?” he cackles. “Such a little slut. You can’t get enough of this.”
As he dives back down and sucks on your clit, he gently begins to finger you, aiming upward as he strokes your walls. You toss your head back at the euphoric feeling, your brain growing fuzzy. “Watch Dabi eat that pussy, baby,” Choso coos. “But don’t get too distracted.”
You don’t know if you can help that. The way Dabi is sloppily eating you out and finger-fucking you is too much for you to not focus on.
You finally cannot take anymore and let every loud, bottled sound inside of you escape as Choso plays with your breasts and Dabi sucks on your clit. “O-Oh, my God!” you cry out. “Fuck, fuck yes!”
The guitarist flinches, scowling up at you. “Plug up that hole, would ya?” He asks Choso, annoyed. He then goes back to fingering you, a slight, wet sound leaving your pussy as he coats his digit in your juices.
You suddenly feel a hand on your head and Choso’s deep, soft eyes are staring into yours. “Open wide, bunny. I’ve gotta keep you quiet.” He gently pushes you down towards his hard dick standing at attention for you. “You wouldn’t want Yuji to come down and find you like this, right?”
Instinctively, you open your mouth and cover your teeth with your pillowy-soft lips to avoid scraping Choso as his cock sinks into your mouth. “No ‘cause you’re a good girl,” he pants. “You’re my good, sweet fuckin’ girl. Fuck, baby, your mouth is so good!”
He proceeds to fuck up into your mouth, using it as just a fleshlight. A toy. And you allow it. Drool drips from your mouth and down his balls as he continues to assault your mouth, soon sinking deeper and deeper into your throat. You gag a few times and nearly feel triggered to throw up, but you just remember to breathe through your nose. Breathe.
Soon, it becomes easier for you to take Choso’s hard cock down your throat. Dabi watches, still fingering you. “Ooooh, she’s good at that,” he chuckles. “Look at her workin’ that mouth.” He hums in arousal to himself, palming himself between your legs, unbeknown to you. “Fuckin’ little cockslut is gettin’ me rock hard.”
Choso chuckles, his laugh breathless as he fucks your mouth like the hole that it is. His hole. Dabi presses a kiss to your clit, emitting a whimper from you. “Does our little bunny need two big carrots tonight?” he smirkingly asks. Choso pulls his cock, wet with your spit, out of your mouth, allowing you to take a proper breath.
“Oh, I think you do,” Dabi answers for you, “and you’re gonna fuckin’ take ‘em.”
He suddenly stands up between your legs, looking down at you as if you’re nothing more than a cock sleeve for his own use. “Get on your knees and look up at us,” he demands. You look at Choso for help, but he looks too lustful and sex-drunk to even begin to think about rescuing you.
On wobbly legs, you get off of the couch and sit on the floor on your knees. You stare up at Choso and Dabi, suddenly staring at two different cocks. Different in length. Different in girth. But still hard and throbbing. In addition, Dabi’s cock is pierced just at the underside of the head which drips in pre-cum for you.
You bite your lip as you stare up at them, kneeling in just your skirt, stockings, and shoes with your tits out, your pussy wet, and your lips coated in spit. The duo look as if they have fallen in love with you. Dabi cocks his head to the side as he slides something out of his back pocket. “Now that’s a sight.”
You close your eyes, humiliated and embarrassed by this moment, but also by how aroused you are. Your pussy has never been wetter than now sitting in front of these two men that you barely know, letting them see you naked and use you like a—
Click!
You open your eyes as a flash goes off and realize in horror that Dabi has his cell phone out. And he’s taking photos of you. “N-No!” you gasp, covering your breasts. “Don’t!”
Click!
Dabi rolls his eyes at you, still keeping the camera on. “Relaaaax. Nobody is seein’ this beauty but me and your little boyfriend.” He nudges Choso who is busy stroking himself at the sight of you, looking like he wants to eat you the fuck up.
He and Dabi get closer to your face, holding their cocks for you. “Nuzzle ‘em,” Dabi orders. “Put those cute little lips on us.”
Feeling like you have no choice, you do as ordered and nuzzle, kiss, and lick up their cocks. You bump your nose against their bulbous heads, run your lips down their shafts, and gently suck on their balls. The two groan in encouragement at your ministrations, hypnotized.
“You look so cute like this, baby,” Choso moans. “I need to see my cock in your mouth.”
He grabs your hair and, without warning, sinks into your mouth to fuck it dumb. “Fuck!” He groans. “You’re so good at suckin’ my cock, baby.” You have no choice but to breathe and let him do as he wants, your eyes watering from the ache in your jaw and your that button in your throat being triggered.
Dabi watches you, his phone in your face and the blinding, white light of his camera in your eyes. “C’mooon, you can fuck her mouth harder than that, can’tcha?”
Choso glares into the lens as he grips your hair harder. “Fuck you,” he growls but ends up fucking your mouth a little rougher anyway. You gag and sloppily gurgle around his dick as he pounds your throat like it’s your pussy, gripping your hair for leverage.
Dabi grins at his bandmate, enjoying the scene before him. “No thanks,” he cackles. “You ain’t my type, but this little doll is.” He taps his cock against your cheek to get your attention. “Look into the camera, bunny. You love bein’ our little toy, don’t you?”
You squint into the blinding light as Choso pulls his cock out of your mouth, leaving a strand of saliva in his wake. “Slutty little thing,” Dabi whistles. “Now it’s my turn. Get it on camera, will ya?” He passes Choso his phone before roughly yanking you towards his cock by your hair.
With a gasp, your mouth falls onto his cock. He is just as rough, aggressive, and desperate as Choso as he fucks your throat, pulling you back and forth like he owns your entire head.
“Deeper,” he growls. “C’mon, slut, take me deeper.” He sinks himself in deeper, nearly touching the back of your throat. Unable to avoid possibly throwing up, you desperately push at his hips to make him stop.
With a sigh, he pulls himself out of you, allowing you to take a breath. You sputter and gulp down air, unable to get it in your lungs fast enough. Figuring you’ve had enough time, the guitarist grabs you again for more throat-fucking.
“D-Dabi, wait!” you cough. “I-I can’t breathe!” But he doesn’t listen to you, instead plunging his cock in balls deep until the heavy things hit your chin. “Bunnies don’t talk, stupid girl. C’mon, you’re embarrassin’ me on video.”
He turns and smirks into the light as Choso records him plowing your mouth, his cock moving in and out of your throat at a fast, rough pace that nearly knocks your brain out of your skull. “You’re doin’ so well, baby,” Choso coos, gently tapping his cock against your soft cheek. “Such a big girl takin’ those big dicks.” He taps it once against your nose too, chuckling to himself.
Dabi wraps a hand around your throat and squeezes, tossing some rough into the mixing pot of sugar that Choso gives you. “Look up at me. Show me your eyes.”
You do so, staring deep into those blue orbs as his cock strokes the walls of your throat. “That’s it, my little bunny. That’s what I like.”
“Just remember to share her, asshole,” Choso hisses. “She likes my dick more anyway.”
Dabi lazily stares at him, squinting at the camera flash. “Oh, really? Then maybe she’ll be able to choose once we’re inside her.” He pulls his cock out of your mouth, using it to slap your cheek. “Turn the fuck over,” he growls.
Nervously swallowing your spit and his pre, you slowly turn around on wobbly limbs only to be hiked into position by an impatient Dabi: all fours. You feel his big hands on your hips, drawing you toward him. When you feel his cock slide against your pussy, you feel immense fear make your stomach turn.
Then he starts to push the head in. “Dabi, wait,” you gasp. “Condom! You need a condom!”
Smack!
His hand comes down to smack you hard on the ass. You flinch at the stinging pain. “I don’t need that shit,” he scoffs. “Now shut up and take this dick, little bunny.”
And then in he goes, sliding his full length into your pussy one inch at a time. Your mouth falls open as you feel him stretching you out, making his place in your cunt one stroke after the other.
He groans, his hips slamming into your ass a little harder and a little faster until he is fucking you onto his cock like you’re his toy, pulling and pushing you by your hips. “Much better than money, right?” he cackles. He leans down to bite your ear, tugging on your earlobe. “Bet it feels good. Bet it’s everything you need, right, bunny?”
You can’t form even one coherent word. Moans and whimpers are all you can manage as his cock drills into your pussy, emitting wet sounds like a moist macaroni and cheese casserole from his dick repeatedly pounding your cunt. Your head feels like mush, your tits jiggle, and you can’t get a grip on yourself.
“Too much!” you sob. “P-Please, Dabi! Slow down!”
He doesn’t, instead gripping whatever he can of yours—your jiggling tits, your stomach, your ass. “Shut her up, Choso,” he irritably grunts. “She’s killin’ my fuckin’ buzz.”
Choso moves in front of you, pushing his erect cock against your plush lips. “Shhh, baby,” he whispers. “Yuji is sleepin’. Just suck on my cock, okay, good girl?”
Before you can answer, his dick is pushing inside of your mouth. With a moan, he begins to fuck the side of your mouth, his head rubbing against the soft, wet wall.
The two begin to fuck you at both ends, using your body for their pleasure. Dabi grips your skirt, nearly tearing the fabric with his aggressively tight hold. “Fuck!” He grunts. “She feels so fuckin’ good! Gonna shoot a load in her soon at this rate.”
Your eyes widen at the terrifying mention of a creampie. Sure, you’ve always had a kink for that and maybe eventually, you’ll want to experience it, but not now. You can’t get pregnant! Luckily, Choso becomes your savior. “Switch with me then. I need my turn.”
Dabi chuckles, the sound sending shivers down your spine. Moaning in unison, the duo pull their cocks out of you before switching spots. Dabi takes your front while Choso takes the back, his hands massaging your ass. He presses soft kisses on your back as he rubs his cock against your soft asscheeks, almost rutting against them.
You look back at him, unintentionally making him harder as you stare at him over your shoulder. “Choso—“
You can’t finish the rest of your sentence because the drummer is already sliding his cock deep inside of you, sinking himself down to the hilt. He begins to fuck you almost immediately, grabbing your ass for leverage. You moan and whine at the feeling, unable to think about anything but how good his cock feels.
Choso uses one hand to fondle your tits while the other stays on your ass, massaging both sensitive zones as his cock massages your walls. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he moans. “Wanted to fuck this pussy for so fuckin’ long. All you do is tease me.” He grips your body to his like it’s his prized position, his hips hammering against your ass again and again and again.
Every time he slams into you, you’re propelled deeper and deeper into a hole of molten pleasure that you can’t crawl out of…and you’re not sure if you want to.
“Choso!” You whine. “Oh, my God, Choso, fuck!” His stroke game draws the loudest, most pathetic sounds out of you, only muffled by Dabi’s cock.
He laughs as he slides into your mouth as you moan around it. “Damn, you’ve got some pipes, girl,” he chuckles, biting his lip as he watches you suck on it. “Might wanna look into bein’ a singer. We might have an opening for ya if you can make us nut.”
He takes his cock out once and taps it against your tongue before sliding back in, proceeding to fuck your throat. Choso laughingly moans, still massaging your insides with his cock. “That won’t be a problem…ssshhhit, her pussy is so tight!” He lets out a shuddery breath as he slows himself down, edging himself inside of you. You can feel him beginning to swell, his cock growing thicker.
Dabi nods at him encouragingly, gripping your hair and forcing you to throat his dick. “Then beat that pussy up, man. Don’t fuckin’ slack—give her what she needs.”
And together, they do just that. They fuck and use your holes until you’re a gagging, whimpering mess, dripping from both ends. Your fake ears fall off and your skirt is ripped so tightly in Choso’s fists that you hear it rip. They fuck you as hard and as fast as they want to, taking you on a bumpy ride.
You feel your core begin to tighten into a knot and your clit swell the more Dabi teases it with his fingers. Your second orgasm is approaching quickly.
Choso must feel it because he focuses heavily on that spot inside of you, fucking it until you’re a puddle. “You gonna cum, bunny?” he whispers. “You gonna cum all over this cock?”
Your mind is blank, the pleasure too numbing. You can feel the urge to cum building, building, building. Choso pinches your nipples while Dabi swirls his fingers around your clit, the sensations getting you closer. “Mmmm!” You scream around Dabi’s cock. “Mmmm, pweeease!”
Dabi nods, pleased with your begging. He grips your hair tighter, forcing you to take his cock deeper. “Go ahead and cum with us, slut. We fuckin’ need it.” Choso nods encouragingly, still pounding your pussy with the intention of making you both cum your brains out. “Do it,” he begs. “Cum on that dick. Give it to me, bunny, please! Cum right fuckin’ now!”
His begging and pleading triggers something inside of you that immediately flips your O switch on. “Ohhh, fuuuuck!” you moan as you finally cum all over Choso’s cock. He keeps fucking you through each intense wave of your orgasm, extending it until you’re writhing and thrashing between him and Dabi.
“Oh, God,” Choso groans as your pussy clenches around him. “I’m ‘bout to cum too.” Dabi shakes his head, pumping his cock in your face. “Unless you want a baby, I suggest you follow my lead.”
Despite the feeling of disappointment as your heavenly cunt leaves him, Choso pulls out and takes his place next to Dabi. The two stand over you—little, pathetic, cum-drunk you—and jerk themselves off in your face.
“Not done yet,” Dabi hisses, damn near feral. “Look up at us, bunny. Show us that pretty face.”
Slowly, you do as he orders and stare at their cocks as they furiously chase their orgasms with their hands. Dabi cums first with a raspy groan that sends warm shivers throughout your body. His creamy, hot cum shoots all over your face and tongue that you slip out of your mouth to catch some droplets.
Choso comes next, his face flush red and looking oh-so pretty as his orgasm peaks. Finally, with a moan, he cums too. “Ohhh, fuck,” he groans as he sprays his load all over your tits. Some of the droplets also splash onto your tongue and on your stomach, coating your skin in the creamy substance.
Their muscles tense and their faces screw in pleasure until finally, the cloud of pleasure fades and they relax. Choso tilts his head back, eyes shut and looking winded. Meanwhile, Dabi takes his phone from the floor and once again puts the camera on you. You squint into the white light, wanting to cover yourself.
“That’s a pretty sight,” he sighs, getting up close and personal. “Now was that good, bunny? Did ya have fun?” He takes his thumb and wipes some cum away from your lips. “Y-Yes,” you softly reply.
The guitarist smirks, pleased with your answer. “Mmm, good girl. You look so nice with my cum all over you.” He makes sure to get all of you—your tits, your stomach, your pretty face all covered in his and Choso’s nut—on his phone. You have no choice but to sit in it…and your embarrassment.
You can’t believe you just got fucked by two men you barely know after babysitting their baby brothers…one of which is sound asleep upstairs.
Dabi finally turns off his phone, chuckling to himself. You don’t ask why. After fetching some tissues, Choso bends down on the floor to wrap his arms around you, using the tissues to dab the cum off of your body. “You did so well, baby,” he sighs. “You were so, so fuckin’ good.”
His big, strong, inked arms wrap around your middle as he drags you into his lap. He then picks you up and walks you over to the couch where he cuddles you, naked and satisfied. He gently strokes your back and kisses your forehead, almost making you forget all about your humiliation….almost.
And then you hear a knock. It is loud and it is abrupt. You gasp, jumping in fear. Someone’s at the door. Could it be Nanami? Is he home early?
Dabi, putting his undies and jeans back on, zips up his fly before sauntering over to the door. He peeks through the peephole and smirks at you. “Relax, girl,” he cackles. “It ain’t no trick-or-treaters.”
Despite the fact that you and Choso are still very naked, Dabi opens the door to reveal two more hot, tatted band members—one with long, wavy white hair and tired gray eyes and the other with spiked pink hair and vermillion eyes.
“Took you long enough,” Dabi scoffs, opening the door further. “Get your asses in here.”
The two strangers walk in, laughing to themselves. When their eyes lock with yours, they each smirk to themselves, menacingly. “Damn,” the pink-haired hottie laughs lightly. “Guess we missed the party.”
“Nah, you guys came just in time,” Dabi chuckles, tossing an arm around his white-haired friend. “We just finished up with her.”
The white-haired man tilts his head to the side, his eyes roaming over your body. “Tiny little thing. You two horn bags corrupt her already?”
Choso squeezes you to him, smiling at his friends. “Baby, this is Tomura and Sukuna, our bassist and one of our other guitarists.”
The two bandmates’ smirks grow wider, causing a twirl of fear and anxiety to appear in your gut.
Choso presses lips to your ear. You can tell he’s smiling. “They’ve got a thing for bunnies too,” he whispers.
THE END.
#black fanfic writer#smutty smut#my works#black coded reader#my one shots#black writers#choso x black!reader#dabi x black!reader#anime crossover#jjk smut#bnha smut#poly smut#happy halloweeeeeeen#bunny girl
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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.
Beautiful Boys
Prompt Day 23: Wayne Adopts Steve | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Lingering Injuries/Trauma | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Good Uncle Wayne Munson, Wayne & Steve, Wayne POV
Wayne is in Hawkins Hardware, looking at the fence pickets. He definitely didn't expect them to have this many choices. He figured he'd come in and buy what he needed, from the only option available. In and out. Wallet a little lighter, but no choices to be made.
But, no. There are options. Decisions. And he isn't sure which style Eddie would prefer. He just wants Eddie to have a place he feels safe outdoors, again.
Wayne reaches out to touch the samples, again, when he hears clattering and an "oh my god, I'm so sorry" that sounds an awful lot like Steve Harrington.
Wayne pokes his head around the corner of the aisle, and Steve is gathering up a bunch of swag hooks off the floor, swiping them back into his handbasket.
"What're you doin' with those, kid?" Wayne asks, crouching down to help him.
"Eddie's plants," Steve says, standing back up, pushing his hair back and up, out of his eyes. These boys and their hair they can't keep contained. Wayne smiles. He remembers how his (now long-gone) hair was in the sixties. Different styles, sure, but just as impractical, at times.
"Eddie's plants," Wayne repeats with a smile, then asks, "You're gonna hang them from the ceiling?"
Steve nods, and Wayne grins, "That's a good idea, kid. He'll love that."
Eddie has gathered up a lot of houseplants recently, tending to them, taking care of them, babying them. The first ones were sent to the hospital by his friends, and Eddie latched onto them. And now, Steve drags a new one home every week or two as a gift. Eddie is still recovering, might always be recovering, but his plants make him smile and give him something to do.
Wayne doesn't quite understand it, not with the black thumb he has, but it's like everything else about Eddie. Wayne doesn't have to understand it, to support him. If Eddie wants plants, they can have a whole houseful of them.
Eddie survived something he still hasn't fully explained to Wayne, might never, so if he wants to fill the house with greenery, so be it.
If he wants to fill the house with Steve Harrington, too, that's also just fine by Wayne.
Steve smiles shyly, "If you don't care that I put holes in the ceiling, that is."
Wayne doesn't care. "I'll help. I've got a stud finder, so we won't have them falling and cracking us on the noggin."
Steve laughs, and nods, "Thanks. What are you doing here?"
Wayne waves him over, getting Steve to follow him.
"Trying to pick fencing for the backyard. If Eddie's gonna keep dragging home strays, we'll need a place to put them," Wayne says, and Steve blushes, just a little.
"I could make a tent work," Steve teases, and Wayne squeezes his shoulder. Steve is always, and will always, be welcome in the house.
"Good to know, but I was thinking more along the lines of dogs, cats, raccoons. You know how he is," Wayne drawls, and Steve smiles. It's wishful thinking, because they both know the real reason for the fence. Eddie doesn't want to leave the house these days.
"I just assumed I'd get dog-ears," Wayne says, pointing at the slightly-rounded piece of wood on display. "But there are choices."
Steve studies them all, finally saying "I think Eddie would like the pointed ones the most. Looks dangerous," Steve says.
Wayne nods. He was thinking the same thing.
"They're narrower, be more work to set," Wayne mutters.
Steve turns to look at him, "I'll help you, you know that."
Wayne nods. He knows Steve will. He's a good kid, who spends most of his time hanging out in their new little house, doting on Eddie in one way or another. Wayne isn't blind. He knows what this is, what these boys feel for each other, even if Eddie hasn't told him yet.
He will. Wayne just has to be patient.
"Sounds good, kid," Wayne says, and Steve grins, big and bright. Like he wasn't sure his help would be accepted.
"I don't know much about building a fence, but I can learn. I can follow instructions," Steve assures, and Wayne pats him on the back.
"Let's double-check my math here," Wayne says, pulling a small notepad out of his pocket, rerunning his figures.
Once he's got a good number, Wayne directs them towards the stain options. Steve picks one with a red tint, and Wayne nods. Looks good to him.
When they get to the counter, he takes Steve's basket and adds it to his.
"You don't have to do that," Steve says.
Wayne knows he doesn't, but it's for Eddie and it's just a few dollars worth of hooks and bolts. He's definitely gonna get his money back in fence-building help.
"I know, I want to," Wayne says, opening his wallet.
Outside, Steve helps the guys from the lumber department load up the trailer full of the pickets.
"See you at home?" Wayne questions, and Steve nods and smiles.
"Yeah, at home," he answers, walking towards his car, with his small sack of hardware.
And they spend days hanging the over-abundance of plants in front of every window in the house, so many that it seems like they're living in a greenhouse, and then they work on the fence. Putting it up, picket by picket, together.
Sometimes, Eddie comes and sits on the patio and watches, but it still takes a lot out of him, even now, months later. Wayne's worried he might never fully recover.
But, Steve works hard to entertain Eddie. Steve's funny, and he treats Eddie real good. That's all that will ever matter to Wayne. Eddie's his boy, and by extension, Steve's his boy now, too.
Eddie and Steve fight over the radio, a welcome sound, and Steve's won.
So, John Lennon's singing about a beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy.
Wayne knows that feeling well.
He's got two of those beautiful boys, now.
close your eyes, have no fear, the monster's gone, he's on the run and your daddy's here, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy John Lennon, Beautiful Boy
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!
If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!
#steddieholidaydrabbles#wayne adopts steve#wayne munson fic#good uncle wayne munson#wayne munson is always the best#wayne munson & steve harrington#eddie munson lives#steddie#steddie ficlet#wayne munson#steve harrington#eddie munson#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles#Spotify
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☆ for blurb night requests; Jake's nieces and nephews calling Ace aunt for the first time
frat!jake seresin x f!reader
wc: 632
warning(s): 18+, fem!reader, no y/n (reader goes by nickname ace)
catch up with jake and ace here!
a/n: decided to write a lil bit for these two before bed, it's missing jake and ace hours (oh my babies...) maybe this will get me to continue writing some bradley and clover too….
»»————- ♠︎ ————-««
The familiar feeling of love and pride swells through Jake’s veins as he watches you with his nieces and nephews. This wasn’t the first time you’ve come home with him, yet he still felt the same excitement that came over him every time you visited.
There was always that small feeling of disbelief, almost like he couldn’t believe that you were real. That you chose him and his family to give you the love you deserved and to keep you safe. He always thought there would be a day where you would wake up and realize maybe he wasn’t what you wanted. But that day never came and here you were still as in love with him as ever.
Jake laughs as he watches you take his youngest nephew and lift him off the ground, spinning him in a circle before putting him back down. The little boy joyously giggles, demanding another round of “spins” with grabby hands.
You comply with a smile and lower down to the boy’s height before sweeping him off his feet and whirling him around once more.
His nephew’s laughter mixes with your own as you put him back on his feet and ruffle his hair.
A feeling that’s not unfamiliar to him stirs inside of Jake at the sight of you suddenly being surrounded by two of his younger nieces and nephew. All of them clamor over with excited chatters neither of you could understand.
You shake your head with a smile and exasperated eyes as you look at Jake who already has his gaze set on you.
His smile is just as wide, if not wider than yours, as he walks over with his hands on his hips. “Alright, alright, what’s going on here?”
His niece, Rebecca, reaches for her Uncle Jake who swiftly lifts her in his arms. “We want Auntie Ace to give us some spins!” The little girl’s exclamation is paired with her throwing her arms up in the air.
“Yeah, Auntie Ace, spin! Spin! Spin!” His nephews and Rebecca’s sister begin chanting over and over.
Jake sees the look on your face just as the words fall from the kid’s mouths. You’ve come home with Jake and met his nieces and nephews twice before then, only talking with them occasionally when they were on FaceTime with Jake. This was the first time they have ever called you “Auntie.”
Your eyes are slightly glassy as you gaze lovingly at the little kids around you before locking eyes with Jake and Rebecca who was already reaching for you. You take her into your arms with ease, not once breaking eye contact with Jake.
“Yeah, Auntie Ace, give ‘em some spins,” he tells you endearingly. The words fall easily from his lips, just as it did from the little ones’.
You smile, wholeheartedly with eyes filled with stars for all of Jake’s little nieces and nephews. Auntie Ace–you have never felt so loved in your life. Brushing a few of Rebecca’s stray strands of hair from her face, you give her a kiss on the cheek. “Oh, alright. Line up, kiddos, everyone’s getting two spins each.”
There’s an eruption of cheers, making you laugh once more with the little girl in your arms.
Jake steps back, taking in the scene in front of him. For a moment, he’s able to imagine you, the love of his life with smaller loves, just like these. Two or three little ones that were half of you and half of him running around a yard with a white picket fence. He knew it was a little early for the thoughts that came to his mind but there was no doubt that he was ready to commit to it all.
For now, he admired your new title. Uncle Jake and Auntie Ace. He loved the sound of that.
tgm taglist: @joaquinwhorres @harrycherrylove @smoothdogsgirl @t-nd-rfoot @dempy @ollyoxenfrees @potato-girl99981. @averyhotchner @2guysonascooter @loveforaugust @blue-aconite @fandom-life-12 @stiles-banshees @iamdannyday @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @breezemood @eli2447 @angelbabyange @finelytaylored @pono-pura-vida @hecate-steps-on-me @blueoorchid @aviatorobsessed @blackwidownat2814 @hallecarey1 @averagereader35 @laneylovesglen @atarmychick007 @kajjaka @urfavelocagirl @clancycumber230 @memeorydotcom @kmc1989 @percysaidnever @thestarspangledcaptain @wkndwlff
#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x f!reader#jake seresin x y/n#jake seresin x you#hangman x reader#hangman x f!reader#hangman x y/n#hangman x you#college!au#frat!jake seresin x reader#hangman x ace 📚#loving you universe#demxters writing
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santa's house | c. leclerc
pairing: charles leclerc x reader word count: 2.1k words (oops) request: nope prompt: character a works as a santa’s helper. character b has a small sibling/child. from this prompt list. not my prompts, credits to the person who created it!warnings: kids, uncle!charles, language maybe, idk what else. **text in italic is supposed to be in french lol** a/n: day 4! a little bit longer than yesterday but oh well, for some reason this one didn’t feel as long when i was writing it. REMINDER THAT MY REQUESTS ARE CLOSED, EVEN IF IT’S FOR THE SPECIAL. pls, i don’t want to close my askbox but if i keep getting i’ll have to turn it off.
my masterlist / 25 days of christmas masterlist
the job wasn’t the most luxurious ever, but it paid good, especially with the holiday craze.
working as one of santa’s elves at the local mall wasn’t exactly on her bucket list, but she needed the money. living in monaco as a student wasn’t easy nor cheap, and she couldn’t let any opportunity to make some extra cash escape.
thankfully, the lines were never too long, the people were understanding, and the children were the sweetest. since starting that job she’d learned a lot about patience, about being around a lot of kids at the same time, but most importantly, about keeping the children’s innocence and spark alive.
in the two weeks of working there she’d had to deal with every kind of kid, the excited ones, the ones that were slightly afraid of the idea of santa, little babies that was their first time meeting santa, and she remembered every single kid that she met.
she was sitting on santa’s chair, still wearing the green dress and striped tights, a red santa hat on her head. the actor playing santa had already called off for the night, but she had to wait until her flatmate finished her shift at one of the shops at the same mall so they could go home together. she was about to turn off the lights from santa’s house when she heard the now-familiar pitter patter of tiny feet on the polished floors.
“cha, hurry!” a little girl’s voice echoed through the walls and tall ceiling, she turned her head seeing a girl of about two or three years old running her way. her heart melted, this girl was probably the prettiest girl she’d ever seen. bright hazel eyes and hair, a gorgeous red dress with white tights on. behind her, a twenty-something brown-haired guy was rushing to her, trying to keep up with her tiny but fast legs.
“wait, darling. slow down,” he said, right as the girl tried to climb the small white picket fence surrounding what was supposed to be santa’s house. out of instinct, she hurried to help the girl.
“careful, honey, you could get hurt,” she said softly, opening the entrance to the house and helping the girl down.
“santa,” she frowned, looking around, her heart sunk in her stomach.
“santa’s gone for the night, darling,” she explained as the guy that came with the little girl walked to her, lifting her in his arms.
“sorry,” he said, hugging the girl tight, “don’t run off like dad, your parents won’t forgive me if something happens to you, and neither would i,” he told the girl, who leaned her head against his shoulder.
“santa,” the girl told him, lower lip sticking out in an adorable pout.
“santa’s house is open until six, you just missed him, i’m sorry,” she explained, a small smile on her face.
“hear that, lovie? we can come back tomorrow,” he said, but the girl shook her head.
“i want to see santa today,” she insisted.
“what’s your name, darling?” she asked the girl, she felt her heart squeezing at the sight of the girl being sad.
“cami,” she answered.
“that’s such a pretty name, cami. it’s so nice to meet you. listen, how about this, i can show you inside santa’s house, would you like that?” she offered, smiling sweetly at the girl. who nodded.
“he there?” cami asked, pointing to the house.
“no, honey, he had to go to the toy factory for the night, but he’ll be back tomorrow,” she explained, it wasn’t the first time she’d had to make up a story on the spot.
“cha, down,” cami said, and the guy holding her put her down, but held her hand. they followed her to the entrance of the house, it was simple, but still in theme. there were two cushioned chairs and a bench, a cabinet where she and the santa actor kept snacks, drinks and some make-up. thankfully, there were no costumes there.
“welcome to santa’s house in monaco,” she smiled as the girl looked around, the soft glow of the lights outside illuminating the inside.
“it’s small,” cami said, looking around and sitting on one of the chairs, the guy she called cha helped her up.
“yeah, he’s so busy, he doesn’t to spend too much time here, and every night he goes to sleep in the north pole, that’s why it’s small,” she explained, watching ‘cha’ with a smile on his face as he saw cami nod slowly, taking the new information in.
“he comes back?” she asked, too enthralled by everything around her.
“yeah, he’ll be back tomorrow.”
“cha, we come tomorrow?” she turned to cha, who nodded in return, pinching the little girl’s cheek lightly. “you’re here tomorrow?” she asked her.
“i will be right here, cami.” she nodded, smiling. she saw movement outside the house, seeing her flatmate waiting for her. “but right now it’s getting late, and i think we all should go home, but i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” she said, standing up from her spot and walking to the snack cabinet. she opened it and grabbed a cookie that she gave every kid that went to meet santa. she thought twice and grabbed another one, instead. “here you go, this is for you,” she handed her one of the cookies, one in the shape of a snowman. the girl’s eyes shined bright, making her smile. “and this one’s for cha,” she said, giving her one in the shape of a christmas tree.
“cha, cookies!” cami giggled, staring at the cookies longingly. “thank you,” she said.
“thank you, uh- my name is charles. that’s cami, camille.”
“nice to meet you, charles. i’m (y/n),” she smiled.
-
the next day, she lifted her head every time she heard a small child’s voice, hoping to see cami and charles walking her way. she tried to hide her disappointment, putting on her happy face and welcoming the kids. with about thirty minutes left, she’d already given up on seeing them that day, but the sweetest voice calling her name caught her attention.
she turned, seeing camille with charles trailing behind her. this time she wore a green dress. she waved at her, turning to sam, the guy playing santa.
“please be on your best behavior for this girl. she wanted to see santa last night but came too late.” she felt two hands wrap around her legs, she crouched in front of cami, “hi, cami, how are you?” she asked the girl, smiling at her and charles as she looked up at him. he smiled back.
“good. i see santa!” she pointed to the side.
“want to meet him? i already told him about you, he’s been waiting all day to meet you,” she smiled, getting a funny feeling in her stomach at the girl’s bright expression in her eyes.
“cha, come!” she grabbed charles’ hand and led him to santa.
-
she waved her hand goodbye at them, already knowing she was going to miss having cami around. she closed the curtains of the small windows of santa’s house, changing out of her costume inside the house. her flatmate had already gone home for the day, so she had to walk home by herself. she didn’t mind it, she liked having time to see her temporary home.
as she walked past an antique shop, she noticed a gorgeous snowglobe. the bottom was painted gold, and inside there was a carousel, and she was sure it worked because of the small lever on the side. she sighed, knowing that with the holidays the prize was sure to be way out of her budget.
“hey, hi-” she jumped a little letting out a curse word. charles noticed the switch in language, “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to startle you.”
“no, it’s okay, i- i was too caught up in my thoughts,” she said, smiling at him. her head went down, looking for cami. “where’s-”
“with her parents,” he said, pointing to a shop across the street. a cozy coffee shop, cami sat with her parents in front of her.
“she’s your…”
“niece,” he answered, she nodded.
“i’m guessing you’re her favorite uncle?” she smiled, watching the way charles looked at her softly.
“i’d say so,” he chuckled, “her parents, my cousins, are really close to my age, so i’d say she’s my favorite, too. i love her to pieces.”
“cute,” she slipped out, feeling a light flush creeping on her cheeks.
“do you want to join us? i’m sure cami will be delighted to spend more time with you,” he asked, her gaze drifted from cami to him. “or if you’re busy or have plans i-”
“no, it’s… i-” she thought for a second, seeing his small smile and bright eyes, so similar to cami’s. “sure. a little while won’t hurt.”
her heart beat faster at the sight of his relieved smile, he offered her his arm, she slid her hand around it and walked to the coffee shop. as they entered she could see cami turning her head to see charles. her eyes widened and she clapped her hands as she spotted her.
she sat next to cami, with charles on her other side as he introduced her to his family.
conversation started flowing easily, with her helping cami eat her slice of cake as if she’d been doing it her whole life, it came natural to her.
charles smiled, knowing cami didn’t open up easily to people, and it was surprising and so nice to see her like that with her. his cousins made her feel welcome, asked her questions about herself, her job, her uni major. with every word she spoke charles found himself unable to look away.
he wanted to get to know her more. whoever managed to get cami out of her shell was someone worth knowing.
after almost two hours of talking and enjoying a nice evening, cami and her parents left, the little one having fallen asleep already. and charles insisted on driving her home, she’d said it was fine, that she was good just walking home, but had finally given up.
the car ride was filled with talk, asking questions that were a bit more personal, but both felt comfortable answering them. as she pointed to her building, charles felt a small ball of dread in his stomach. he didn’t want this to end.
“can i-” he said, sighing as he cut himself off. “i’d love to see you again,”
“oh,” she said, before a smile slowly crept on her face, “me too.” she admitted, feeling shy under his stare.
“um, is… that’s great,” he said, watching her nod. she nodded, too, tapping her fingers against her leg.
“here,” she handed him her phone, “put your number in. we can text and plan something,”
“yeah, i’d… i’d like that,” he said, typing his number and saving the contact as ‘cha’ with a bear emoji. he’d explained the bear necklace that cami had picked out for him as a birthday present, she had contained herself to avoid swooning audibly. he called his number so he could have hers as well.
“good. well, thank you for tonight. i really had a nice night, your family is so great and cami… she’s quite possibly the greatest toddler i’ve ever met. and trust me, i’ve met a lot,” she laughed.
“she is, the sweetest girl.”
after staring at each other for a few seconds, she jumped when they heard a car passing by, too fast to be within the speed limit.
“i should… go. i- i’ve got to work tomorrow.”
“yeah, of course. have a nice night, and… i’ll call you.”
“i’m looking forward to it,” she smiled, stepping out of the car.
he watched her close the door and walk to the front door of her building, and it took him one second to make up his mind. he stepped out and closed the door, calling her name.
“yeah?” she asked, watching him walk her way.
“i… i forgot something,” he said, feeling his hands getting clammy as he kept them behind his back.
“what is it?”
he leaned forward, brushing his lips against her cheek, placing one soft kiss there. her breathing hitched as she looked at him, a smile on her lips as he leaned back, heat rushing to her face.
as soon as she closed the door to her apartment she received a notification.
from cha🐻: sweet dreams.
she smiled, dropping down on the sofa and screaming into a pillow.
there was no way a man this perfect existed.
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Writing Pattern Tag Game
Thank you for tagging me, @luckynumber4 🥰💜
Rules: Share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns!
🦀 When The World Is Crashing Down:
You scream when he grabs you, this lightning strike of a man with a grip like an animal trap that splits bones.
☄️ Comet Donati:
“You are a professional,” you tell your reflection threateningly, like it owes you money.
🌹 Now I’m Covered In You:
He’s thrusting into you, but you’re miles away: a speck of an island in the Mediterranean Sea, the glimmer of an unnamed star.
❄️ North To The Future:
“He’s going to hit the mailbox,” Jennifer says.
🐉 Have You No Idea That You’re In Deep?:
He changes every room he walks into; he drags your eyes to him like the sea swallows anchors.
👑 We Were Something, Don’t You Think So?:
“There is a man coming for you.”
🕯️ 72 Hours In Montreal:
The obnoxious British men are still laughing.
⚾ Eccentricity:
Vampires do not exist.
🌊 But You Can Never Leave:
“I can’t lose my arm,” the flushed, sweated, panic-stricken man on the hospital bed pleads as he clutches for your sleeve.
🦖 Baby You Were My Picket Fence:
This kid is going to be the death of me.
Not sure about common themes but that NICIY opening was really something, huh 😅😂
Tagging my lovely writer friends (and anyone else who would like to participate 🥳): @arcielee @storiumemporium @ladylannisterxo @humanpurposes @namelesslosers @theoneeyedprince @wintersire @huramuna @jetblack4real @dd122004dd @under-the-aspen-tree @gemini-mama @daenysx @babyblue711
#aemond targaryen x you#aegon targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#aegon x reader#aemond x you#aemond x reader#aegon x you#aegon targaryen x you
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Something that does genuinely concern me is the possibility of the Duffer’s being a major conflict of interest when it comes to supporting the strike out in the open. They’re not just writers but also producers and the show runners. Arguably they have the tightest relationship of any production to Netflix, and so just knowing that they’ve always been very much intertwined, are they going to be willing to voice their support for the strike, beyond just being WGA members who likely voted in support of the strike? Like even the cast, complete silence. I know that it can be hard for a lot of reasons, but the complete silence, besides that one writer who posted about it, has me side eying the situation as it’s unfolding.
For the last few Friday’s, they’ve been active posting about stuff, and so are they going to keep that going by posting today, hopefully something to agknowledge the strike, or are they going to just act like nothing is going on and carry on with Easter egg like content? Or worse, are they not going to post at all and so we won’t even know what to think?
It’s just so weird bc they’ve known about this strike for months now. They’ve known about it when they’ve been stringing fans along with little things over the last month. And now, silence, at a time when silence is not the best choice, especially when they are the hugest show in television rn. The duffers coming out and saying something about putting pressure on Netflix would actually have the capacity to get something to happen, and yet they don’t… and it makes me think they’re a conflict of interest bc unlike their writers, they get paid A LOT!
And when it comes to filming starting, I’m concerned that just because they have the first few scripts written and finalized, the Duffers are just gonna say fuck the strike go through with it and start the production for those earlier episodes, either without any writers present bc they’re on strike and so no rewrites, meaning we’re risking the quality not being as good as it would be with them. Or worse, the Duffers are gonna go cross picket lines and scab, and rewrite the scenes themselves essentially going against the strike and their own writers to side with the studios that want it done…
Like I want Stranger Things filmed as soon as possible, I really do. But I also am a little bit unsettled by s5 being soured just knowing they chose a route that sided with corporations and not the writers getting paid mf crap while they are in Netflix’s pockets.
Even though I’m skeptical, I’m still hopeful that they’ll say something, maybe the st writers Twitter will make a statement for all the writers, including the duffers to show their support. But just considering how quiet it’s been, I do wonder how they view the situation.
Do they think it will be over at any moment, without their interference and so they’re just waiting for that? Are they genuinely being advised to say nothing, including the cast and so that’s going to be the case until this is over (if it’s even over any time soon).
Like wtfff is going on in their brains I need to know what they’re thinking about all of this.
Bc them being silent all throughout or even worse doing the exact opposite of supporting the strike by literally starting filming anyways against all of their writers best interests, would be the worst possible course of action. The final season won’t be remembered for all the love and dedication put into it, it’ll be remembered for the greed. And that pisses me off bc the writers don’t deserve that! This is their baby and they’re literally out here risking it all to have a live-able wage, only to be undermined at the risk of everything. It fucking sucks.
#byler#stranger things#writers strike#st writers#duffer brothers#pls st writers Twitter post blatant writers strike solidarity today I swear to god#literally the duffers could protest#the cast could show their support or even protest#and we’d all be going above and beyond to pressure Netflix and other streamers to pay their fair share to writers#but they’re just silent#and so all we’re left doing is going#‘ughh when is s5!? I hope this doesn’t affect s4! I can’t handle any more delays! the cast is gonna be old by the time it airs!!’#and it’s just all so misguided#these ppl making the show we love can barely afford to make a fucking living#ppl involved with the show make millions and have a huge audience that could make a difference#and it just saddens me that they’re probably being told they can’t#and so they’re just staying quiet to protect themselves and their livelihood#it’s obviously not all black and white#it’s complex#but the sooner more people in power step up#the sooner it will be over#the longer they stay silent#who tf knows how long this will go on
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The Impossible Man ✨ 1. The Deathwatch Beetle ✨
Modern Day Detective! Din Djarin x Witch! Reader (Soulmates AU)
Series Masterlist
Summary: For someone being born into a magical family, a curse placed on the women of your bloodline means you have mostly avoided witchcraft and its calling for the majority of your life. After a life-altering tragedy, you turn your back on your family and your gift and seek out a more normal, boring existence, devoid of magic, and mostly, of love. What happens when the ghosts of your past threaten your peaceful existence and you are forced to reconcile all that you have lost? Will you let the people you have abandoned in your past life back into your heart? Will the appearance of an impossible man you have unknowingly cursed yourself break the chains of love? Will you let him?
Chapter Rating: M? (for now)
Chapter Warnings: Magical realism, implied mention of suicide, reader and her family are cursed, implied (minor) character death, (some) men are the worst, mentions of violence
A/N: Oh, Hello there.
For Halloween this year, I decided that I wanted to write a little 3-part story featuring my favorite Pedro boy, ✨Din Djarin✨. Inspired by my favorite Halloween-ish movie, Practical Magic, the story follows a Modern Day Detective Din, and our (reluctant) Witchy Reader. This story is not a complete retelling of PM, but a mishmash of other films that I love and cherish. If you're able to spot some of these films, I'll gift you a virtual Halloween candy treat! Happy Halloween, everyone!
Peep the (main canon storyline) Star Wars cameo!
Banner by @chiriwritesstuff ✨ Dividers by @saradika
Word Count: 3.2K
The first time you heard of the deathwatch beetle, you were eight years old.
The Victorian-style house that sat along the edge of Puget Sound was a whimsical sort, with its white picket fence adorned with creeping ivy, its single turret, a spire with the shape of a star on top of it, like a star on a Christmas tree. It had belonged to your family for decades - and was always kept in the same manner as when it was built. It was the home that your mother was raised in, and her mother before her, the house being passed down through each generation. You remember the summers you spent with your Aunt Fennic and Omera, taking the ferry from the port at Capitol Hill to Bainbridge Island, your sister Violet - Vi, for short - with her hands intertwined with yours. Three hundred and sixty-seven days younger than you, and every bit your opposite - if you were the match, then she was the flame; she was light, embodied to your infinite darkness. You would wear braids in your hair and fairy wings as you ran down the corridors of the house, playing hide-and-seek and hoping that you wouldn't get lost in the vastness of it. It was your beacon of light and solace, always welcoming. Now, as you hold your sister's hand while walking up to the porch, dressed in black, eyes still puffy and swollen and lined with tears, your aunts standing side by side, already expecting you both - it had finally become home.
"In this house," your aunt Fennic starts, grabbing the suitcase out of your hands as your aunt Omera bends to pick up Vi, "We will eat chocolate cake for breakfast and not worry about silly little things like bedtimes and brushing our teeth." You chuckle as she winks and leads the two of you inside.
Later that night, as Omera tucked you into bed, Vi having fallen asleep only moments before, she smiled as she kissed your forehead. "We're so happy you're with us, Starshine."
You silently nod, your fingers fidgeting nervously as you try to hide the discomfort of being in a new place, despite having been here so many times before. You look down at your hands, blinking away the tears that were begging to come out. "Aunt Omera, did Daddy die because of the curse?"
She gives you a sad smile. "Yes, Baby, he did." She strokes your cheek with her thumb, wiping away your tears.
"Your mother knew the moment she heard the click, click, click of the deathwatch beetle beckoning for your father's life... she knew that day that he was doomed to die. Every person who falls in love with any of the women of our bloodline is resigned to the same fate."
"Is that why Mommy died? Because of a broken heart?"
Omera's face softens as she brushes your hair away from your eyes. "Yes, my darling girl, she did. She couldn't imagine life without your father..." She pulls the covers over you. "…but that's how you came to live with us, and we will raise you the best way we know how."
You smile sadly, settling yourself deeper into the covers. "Why is our family cursed, Auntie?"
"It was because of your ancestor, Maria."
"Was she a witch?"
"Yes, the first in our family. And you are the most recent in a long and distinguished line."
"What happened to her?"
"Well, my Starshine, she fell in love. She fell in love with a man, her soulmate... but not everyone was happy about it. There was another man, an evil man, who had loved Maria from afar. He demanded that she be with him, and when she refused, he killed her lover in cold blood."
You bite your lip, nodding to yourself as you try to understand. "… but how does that make us cursed?"
"Well," Omera says, "Maria didn't take her lover's death kindly. With her powers, she managed to encase the evil man in a tomb full of beetles, eating him alive. However, before he died, he cursed the entirety of our female bloodline. This curse dooms any being who dares to love us, but it also ensures that we will always find our soulmate. Throughout the years, the appearance of the deathwatch beetle - the same one that consumed the man - is seen as a warning bell. The moment you hear the click, click, click of the beetle, there is nothing you can do to stop the curse. We have carried the weight of this burden for hundreds of years."
"I wish that I never find my soulmate," you whisper, determination etched on your 8-year-old face. "I don't want anyone to die because of me, and I don't want to die of a broken heart!"
Omera looks at you sadly as she kisses your forehead. "Oh, my sweet Starshine." She reaches over to turn off your bedside lamp, then kisses Vi before walking to your door, locking eyes with you, nodding as she turns away, leaving you in complete darkness.
"You will."
“He will hear my call a mile away. He will whistle my favorite song. He can ride a horse backwards.” You gather the petals of the flower and place it in the bowl, reading the words you have written in your diary aloud, your fingers grazing the page.
“What are you doing, Starshine?” Vi asks from behind you, walking into the greenhouse as she pets Boba the house cat.
“I’m summoning a true love spell. Amas Veritas. Also known as a Soulmates calling.” You pull a rose petal, inspecting it as you turn to your sister. “He can flip pancakes in the air. He will be marvelously kind… and his favorite shape will be a star… and he’ll have a birthmark on him, the shape of a… bullseye.”
“… I thought you didn’t want to find your soulmate? I heard you, last night. When you were talking to Aunt Omera.” She picks up your diary and flips through the pages, her hip resting on the table as you finish gathering the rest of the ingredients, stirring it gently with your hands.
“That’s the point, Vi. The guy I dreamed of? My soulmate? He doesn’t exist… and if he doesn’t exist, I won’t die of a broken heart.”
You walk out and your sister follows, making your way to the balcony as you hold the bowl out into the night sky. Vi gasps as the petals start to float out of the bowl, flowing out like a waft of smoke, fluttering in the air, flying out into the distance, a small smile forming as you look out into the sky.
"Goodnight, Impossible Man."
The first time you heard the ominous click, click, click of the deathwatch beetle, you were 28 years old.
It was in the dead of night, the clicking noise faint and almost unnoticeable, its distinctive chirps being drowned out by the idle sounds of the crickets and the gently blowing wind.
Click, click, click.
Your eyes open at that, suddenly alert. You shoot up from where you lay, Ben's still form beside you still in deep sleep. You breathe deeply, pushing your hair out of your face as you scan the room, looking for the source of the subtle clicking sound that roused you from your sleep. "Baby," Ben murmurs into his pillow, his eyes half open. "What are you doing up? It's late. Go back to sleep." He whispers, his arm pulling yours gently as you ease yourself back onto his chest, the deep thump, thump, thump of his heartbeat reverberating throughout your body, a reminder that he’s still very much alive. You sigh, pressing a chase kiss on his sternum. "I thought I heard something," you reply, his body shifting as he cages you in, his chin resting on the top of your head. "It's just the wind, Starshine. Go back to sleep," he continues, his fingers gently drawing small circles on your back. "I love you," he finally whispers before his breathing evens, his soft snores lulling you back to sleep.
A few hours later, you’re roused from your sleep once more as Ben's phone starts to chime. You feel his arm reaching out blindly for his phone on the nightstand, a slight groan rumbling from his chest as he squints at the screen.
"Good Morning, baby," Ben whispers in your ear, his voice heavy with sleep. "I have to get up, but you go back to sleep." You feel his breath on your cheeks as he presses a kiss to them, a faint smile forming as he embraces you, the feeling of his body stretching against yours as he wakes. He kisses your sleepy head as he rises out of bed, sitting on the edge of it as he caresses your half-sleeping form. He cracks his neck and silently pads himself into the bathroom, the sound of the shower starting as you burrow yourself deeper into the covers, your body slowly shifting to where his body was only a moment ago, relishing in the residual warmth of your lover it still contains. You wedge your nose into the indent of his pillow, smiling as you inhale his scent. You lay there until you hear the tell-tale sound of the shower shutting off. Your eyes adjust to the warm orange light of the bathroom as he walks out, a towel half slung onto his form as he walks into the closet, pulling on his suit as he dresses for the day, his faint silhouette shuffling in the light of early dawn.
"Ben," you say softly as he’s beginning to pull on his socks. "It’s early. Come back to bed." You plead with him, your arms outstretched, making grabby hands, beckoning out for him.
"Djarin messaged me saying he has a lead. I’m heading over to meet with him now," He walks over to you, sitting on the edge of the bed as he puts his wingtip loafers on. "We’ve been at a stalemate for months now, baby. I’ll make it up to you, maybe we could go back to Montauk after I close this case. Gideon is so close, I’m finally closing in on him, I can feel it."
You nod as you reach out to rub his back. "Okay. You owe me, though."
He chuckles at that, the corners of his cheeks lifting as he gives you a rare smile. "No, Djarin owes me because I must be insane to leave my beautiful wife all alone. It’s criminal." He smirks as he bends over to kiss you, his lips tracing the side of your jaw.
"I have to go," he whispers into your ear as he kisses your head. "I’ll see you after work, ok? Might be a late night, this case has been killing me," he continues, grabbing his briefcase perched against his nightstand. He hovers by the doorframe, smiling as he turns to leave.
"I love you, Starshine."
He’s gone by the time you whisper those three little words back out into the ether.
Click, click, click. Click, click, CLICK.
Your eyes shoot open once again, the room now bathed in the mid-morning light. You scramble out of bed.
No, you think. No, no, no, NO.
You pace around your room nervously, the clicking sound from the night echoing into the recesses of your brain. You scan the room for the source of your dread, your body shivering in fear. You run to the opposite side of the room, scanning every nook and cranny, every crevice and surface. "Where are you, fucker?" you think to yourself.
Click, click, click.
You realize the sound is coming from beneath you, your eyes quickly shifting to where your feet are planted on the old floorboards of your shared apartment. It’s an old apartment in the heart of Queen Anne, one of those charming wartime-era duplexes painted in pink with its charming crown molding and black and white checkered tiles in the kitchen. Your dream home, you once thought to yourself, Vi’s unit on the other side, her bedroom wall sharing your own - an inheritance you both shared after your mother died all those years ago.
Your mother.
Your heart shudders at her memory, the tears forming as you take another deep breath. You forcibly repress and push those memories aside, centering yourself as you remind yourself of the current problem on your hands. You look below you once again, the gaps of the aged wood showing the earth below. You focus on the gaps, your eyes scanning frantically until you see it - the silhouette of the deathwatch beetle, its obsidian shiny armor scampering away from you, as if it finally acknowledges your presence. You dive onto the floor in its direction, your eyes inspecting the gaps of the floorboards, your line of sight aligning with the death beetle once more.
You scamper back onto your feet hurriedly, running out of your bedroom into the hallway, your feet pounding heavily on the floor as you make your way to the hallway closet, wrenching the door open with hurried force as you scan for the ancient toolbox on the shelf. You yank the rusted toolbox out, spilling its contents onto the floor, not caring one bit about the mess that you’re making. Grabbing a flathead screwdriver, you hurry back into the bedroom, following the now-insistent clicking of the beetle. It managed to make its way above ground, scampering away as you furiously head towards it. It hurriedly makes its way across the way of the floorboards, you diving once again towards it, your hand stretched out as you try to slam onto it. The beetle is quicker and more agile than you, shimmying away from your hand as it falls through the crack of the floorboard. You lay your cheek on the cold floor as you pound on it furiously, willing the beetle to click as you listen intently for it. "This can’t be!" You whisper to yourself, your breath choking out in a panic.
"FUCK!" You scream in agony, grabbing the screwdriver that lay beside you. You wedge it against the edge of the floorboards, prying it open as you scan for the beetle. You start to pry off the boards around you until you make a sizeable gap for you to jump into, throwing the screwdriver aside and forcibly pry more floorboards until they lay haphazardly amongst each other in piles, completely surrounding you as you breathe heavily, the tears flowing freely on your face.
"Don’t do this to me!" You cry out, gasping for air as you crawl into the earth below, your nightgown now soiled as you frantically search around you. The clicking sound is becoming more frequent and louder, its eerie cadence becoming the only thing you can hear in your mind. "Come on!" You scream. "Please, don’t do this to me, not now, not him…. PLEASE! Haven’t you taken enough from me?! Haven’t we shed enough blood? Oh god…" You plead, your voice croaking out in desperation. You suddenly sit in a daze, your hair disheveled, the tears refusing to cease as your heart feels like it’s about to explode in your chest from pure exhaustion, from sheer adrenaline. It's then you realize that you’re suddenly surrounded by silence. You blink, scanning the room once more, the clicks having stopped and the deathwatch beetle nowhere to be found. You breathe a sigh of relief until suddenly the clicks ring out fast and furiously, a crescendo of fear and pain building within you until it ceases once more. You suddenly shudder, your body jolting violently, a single tear falling down the slopes of your face.
You’re still sitting there hours later, as the day has turned into night when your phone suddenly rings in the distance. You slowly climb out of the floor as you make your way to your dresser, silently picking up the phone and answering it, not bothering to check who it is, your hands trembling in fear.
"Ben?" You whisper shakily.
"Hey Starshine, it’s me, Din. Din Djarin?" You hear a deep sigh on the line. "...Are you there?"
"Listen. I’m going to need you to come down to the station… I’m sorry… it’s… it’s Ben." You hear him take a harsh breath as he speaks again. "I’m so sorry, Starshine…." His voice fades as your phone slips out of your grasp, the Seattle Police contact illuminating the screen as it hits the ground, his voice cutting through the silence as the sob you’ve been holding in erupts deep within your chest, you begin to wail and scream, falling to your knees.
"It was the curse, wasn’t it?" You scream as you storm into your aunt's house later that night, pacing frantically in the kitchen. “Because I loved him so much!”
Your aunts slowly walk into the room hesitantly, looking at your shaking frame nervously.
It’s your aunt Fennic who speaks first.
“We had no idea… when we cast that spell…”
“What spell?” You ask as your eyes shift between your two aunts, Omera’s eyes downcast in shame. “What are you talking about?!" She finally looks at you, her eyes filled with tears as she glances at her sister.
“Oh…” you shudder. “You didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t… my own flesh and blood...”
“You were so lonely, Starshine… we just… wanted to give you a little push… we didn’t expect you to fall in love.”
“WELL, I DID!” You gasp, grasping your chest as you walk out, grabbing the spell book from the other room, slamming it onto the kitchen counter as you frantically flip through the pages. “And I want him back!”
“You brought him into my life, and I want you to bring him back!” You say as you continue to flip through the pages. “I’ve never asked you for anything, I’ve never asked you for spells but do this! I know you can, I know you can bring him back!”
“We won’t do this” Omera speaks up as she approaches you. “We can’t do this” Fennic adds, crossing her arms.
“I know you can! I remember I found it here…” your fingers reading through the spell “I found the spell when… when mommy and daddy died.”
“Even if we did bring him back” Fennic starts, looking at Omera “… it wouldn’t be Ben.”
“… it would be something else, something dark and unnatural” Omera adds, reaching out to you.
“I DONT CARE WHAT HE COMES BACK AS, AS LONG AS HE COMES BACK… as long as he comes back” your voice breaks as you suddenly start to sob. “Please! Please do this for me!” You sob as you collapse onto the spell book, looking at your aunts pleadingly. “Please? PLEASE?!” You cover your mouth as you fall to your knees, Omera catching you as you cry onto her chest.
“I’m so sorry, Starshine.” She whispers as she strokes your back, looking at her sister as she turns to walk away.
The first time you hear the ominous click, click, click of the deathwatch beetle is the day you swear to yourself that you will never, ever fall in love again.
Authors Bits:
If you guessed that Ben was Ben Solo, you were right. I admit that I was once a Reylo - not so much now, but back in the day, so including him in this story was a treat... also, because Adam Driver <3.
Speaking about Ben, it's safe to say he's alluded to his death several times to Starshine, and there's several hints that I try to convey throughout. I'll miss our Benji, but we all know what we want, and he's definitely coming...
Taglist: @strawberri-blonde
#din djarin#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#modern din djarin#din djarin/reader#pedro pascal#the mandalorian#the mandalorian fanfiction#din djarin x female reader#din djarin x oc#din djarin x y/n#din djarin x original female character#A smol Ben Solo Cameo#ben solo x reader#Squint and you might miss Ben Solo#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal fanfiction
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I can't handle another year of us just bein' fine I've shared all my secrets, and I've paid for all my crimes and our stars ain't falling back into line // I always thought I'd be alone, 'cause I never wanted to tap my brakes, I never wanted to settle down I was always one foot out the door I never thought about turning round Never saw myself with a white picket fence dug into the ground, Never til now
Never Til Now (Rolling Up The Welcome Mat) November 12th, 2025
“You ready?” She asks him softly. Evan nods quickly, a choked sound coming out of the back of his throat as he lifts his arms and Maddie slowly slides her own out from beneath the baby—their daughter. Evan sniffs, unabashed at the tears running down his face as he looks down at her.
“Th-this is real,” he says, almost not recognizing his own voice. Tommy’s hand comes down over his, under her head, and Evan looks over at him and the tears in his eyes that haven’t fallen yet.
“Yeah,” he rasps. “This is real.” //
April 2nd, 2025
He can feel it coming, physically. He knows an avalanche is headed towards them, that the issue of kids might actually break them. Because he means it, when he tells Evan that he doesn’t want to keep him from having something as integral as children. But also, he can’t fathom a version of his life that doesn’t have Evan Buckley in it. And sure, if they really wanted to, they could try and be friends—Tommy would try if Evan wanted that, just to have some tangible connection to the man that has made him truly believe that actual love exists for the first time since his mom died when he was nine. He’d move the sun and moon if it pleased Evan.
Except, he can’t grasp the ability to even hypothesize a life with another baby in it, another person that he could give his whole soul to the way he did to River, even if it was with Evan. Something about that just feels like a personal brand of hell he’s not prepared for.
Still, he can’t figure out what feels worse: the idea of losing Evan, or the idea of having a child that isn’t River.
#moodboard#fanfic moodboard#never til now (rolling up the welcome mat)#bucktommy fic#tevan#kinley#teaser#firepilot#firefly#firebeast#firecopter
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WIP Wednesday
Tagged by the lovely @piratefalls and @onthewaytosomewhere
Happy birthday to our favorite chaos bisexual baby boi, Alex! I am almost at the finished line for this chapter. I'm determined to post today, so stay tuned, folks. Wordy little bastard Alex has a lot to say and a lot of FEELS. ENJOY!
As they exited the cemetery, Henry turned to him and asked, “Would you indulge me one more cemetery tour?” Alex nodded, something in Henry’s eyes telling him this was important. They walked down the street until they found an appropriate place to cross. Henry led them up to the open gate that read Holt Cemetery. Compared to the grandeur of the place they just left, Holt looked rundown and neglected. The gravestones were worn and crooked, some lined with PVC pipe or broken mini-picket fences, and decorated with mementos from loved ones. He took Henry’s hand and squeezed it as they walked along the gravel drive. “Somewhere in here,” Henry said softly, “may lie the remains of four men, victims of a gay bar fire in 1973 called the Upstairs Lounge.” “May?” Henry’s jaw tightened. “Many older records were destroyed after Katrina. Some say the victims, one, possibly two, who have been identified, were buried here or in the Charity Hospital Cemetery nearby. Their bodies were so damaged, they were never identified or claimed. One man’s family, Ferris LeBlanc, didn’t even know he’d died in the fire until 2015. In total, thirty-two men died that night, the deadliest attack on a queer space until Pulse in Orlando.” “Jesus fucking Christ,” Alex hissed. “Was anyone ever charged?” Henry shook his head. “There was a suspect, a man who had been ejected about twenty minutes before the fire started, but it ultimately went nowhere. It was just a bunch of queers who had it coming, right?” “How did you learn about this?” “A documentary,” Henry replied. They paused, and Henry held their joined hands against his chest. “I have a vested interest in the history of our community because the mainstream media and so-called educators still seek to bury it.” Alex swallowed thickly as he scanned the cemetery. As the son of a Mexican immigrant, he knew all too well how hard the system fought to suppress those they deemed as “other.” It occurred to him that so much of the real history of this country hadn’t been taught to him in the classroom but through books, documentaries, and people like Henry. People determined not to let their history fade into obscurity. “I don’t mean to preach-” Alex stopped him. “No, you’re not. And you’re right. These men deserve to be remembered. Thank you for sharing this with me. I’ve only been for about a year, and I’ve still got so much more I need to learn.” “That’s the first step,” Henry smiled. “The worst thing you can do as a young queer person is live in willful ignorance because the people in power are counting on it. Pride Month is about so much more than celebrating who we are. It’s about remembering those who we’ve lost, who didn’t get the chance to live openly as we do now.” Alex felt a lump growing in his throat. He wrapped his arms around Henry and squeezed tight. Henry huffed a laugh but returned his embrace, murmuring, “I’d kiss you right now, but that would be grossly inappropriate, given our current location.” “Good call.”
There are so many bonding moments between A&H in this chapter, but this is one I'm proud of. As a queer person myself, Henry was channeling me as I too think it is beyond vital that queer people learn their history, the bad and the good. Celebrate Pride but remember the people who are no longer here. CMQ brought up the story of the Upstairs Lounge in One Last Stop, so I wanted to include it here as I feel it would be something important that Henry would want to share with Alex. I promise, this chapter is almost done and you guys are NOT ready for it! All aboard the hype train, choo chooooooo! See ya soon!
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[Image description: Two digital drawings of Vash from Trigun Stampede slumped over a table, crying. “whimper” is written next to him. He has his glasses, which are cracked, hanging from his face in the first drawing but not the second. The background is a blue gradient. The Picket Line Pitch-In logo is in the corner. End description.]
Thanks to Ravyn for the Donation, who requested Vash the Stampede from Trigun Stampede with expression F6 from the Emotion Challenge "because he is baby"! Drawn by Mimi the Alpaca
Thank you so much for your support for the writers and actors on strike!
#picket line pitch in#vash the stampede#vash trigun#tristamp#trigun stampede#writers strike#wga strong#support the wga#wga strike#actors strike#sag strike#sag aftra#fanart 4 donation fundraiser#image description#image description in alt text
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