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spideyanakin · 2 years ago

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10 Things I Hate About you - Chapter 2

Eddie Munson x Harrington! reader

Synopsis - A new rule strikes the Harrington household: if Steve wishes to date ever again, his sister needs to find a boyfriend first. As Steve becomes desperate and thinks of everything in his power to set her up, only one guy comes to mind that will take up a challenge such as that: Eddie Munson.

warnings - Season 1 Steve 👎 , ft. Eddie the mechanics, underage drinking, and free cookie if you spot the Titanic reference.

word count - 12.5k

proof read by the amazing @inknopewetrust

series masterlist 🌻

the playlist

"He tried again over lunch today," Steve slumped his shoulders, looking up to the sky. This was supposed to be a new day, a new opportunity for Eddie to try and seduce you, but instead, Eddie almost ended up having your yogurt in his hair. And even if the plan was failing, Tommy, who would have paid good money to see The Freak with yogurt stuck in his brown curls, was disappointed you hadn't gone through with it.

"I'm starting to think this is a bad idea."

"You gave him a fifty bucks a date deal, I'm sure he'll try again," Carol said through a mouthful of Steve's Kudos bar - the extra one he had packed for himself, but her sneaky hands had found it anyway.

"He told me he would," Steve climbed down from the hood of his car when he spotted you leaving the school building. "I'll see you guys tomorrow," He sighed, taking a seat behind the wheel.

"Hey, loser." Tommy snickered at you, taking a new puff of his cigarette and almost blowing it in your face.

"Oh my god, Tommy." You squinted your eyes, pretending like the smoke didn't bother you. "Are you losing your hair? You look balder than the last time I saw you up close?" You watched as his face twisted, placing a hand in his hair as if to protect it from your comment.

"Stop bullying my friends!" Steve yelled from the open window.

"Stop bullying my friends" You mimicked his voice as you settled yourself in the passenger side. "I'm Steve and I think that my dumb friends are actually really smart and good company."

"I don't talk like that."

"Yeah, you do. Oh my hair, my precious hair!" You mimicked again, putting a hand in your own hair as you did. "Wait until people find out it's because you use girl's hairspray.”

"And they never will, because you'll never tell them," he sang the words. "Talking about hairspray, I'm running out. I'm going to have to go to the supermarket before I can drop you off."

"Seriously? Can't you go later?"

"Nope. Don't have the time."

"I hate you."

"Look on the bright side, you can go to the comic book store in the meantime." He spoke to you like a toddler, you hated that.

"Right. Because I'm so excited to get the new Iron Man comic."

"Aren't you?"

You were.

But he didn't need to know that.

"You have to stop being so aggressive." Steve noticed as he watched you remove a few coins out of your wallet and hand them to the seller behind the counter.

"I'm not aggressive!" You argued back, side-eying your brother before thanking the elderly man as he neatly placed your comics in a plastic bag and handed them to you over the counter.

"You just fought a 9 year old over Lord of the Rings." Steve eyed the road through the shop's window, the little boy in question had a big frown on his face as he climbed into the back of his mother's car.

"But he was wrong! I don't know what he read, but that's not how the end of the Two Towers played out! And Saruman does die at the end of Return of the King."

"Why do I even bother with you?" He pinched his nose, his other hand on his hip in annoyance. You watched as the white plastic bag with the Farrah Fawcet hair spray bumped with his hip as he moved. He shook his head before putting his sunglasses back on. "Do you know that people around school are starting to call you a ‘heinous bitch’ more and more often?"

"You forget I don't care what people think." You pushed the shop door open, the little bell ringing with it.

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't," you chuckled, looking at him through his sunglasses. "You don't always have to be who they want you to be, you know?" The words came out of your mouth before you could even think them over.

"I happen to like being the king of Hawkins High, thank you," He gave you a chuckle as if you had just said something stupid. The pang in your chest started stinging even more at seeing the careless, stupid, and even sometimes mean facade your brother had created himself just for popularity becoming clearer and stronger. You knew deep inside he wasn't this way.

"Right." Your word came out stiffer than you wished as you opened the passenger door, Steve following you in from the other side. "You know you're paying for my car repair, right?" You asked as you watched him start the engine.

"Uh, no, I'm not."

"Steve, you're the one who put the wrong fuel in."

"Yeah, but it's your car."

"Mom said you were going to pay!"

"Yeah, and?"

"And, so I'm not going to pay for your mistakes. What is this? Asshole day?"

"Why are you like this? You're making a fuss about everything lately."

"Right yeah, because I'm the one with terrible grades and who bugs his sister like it's her problem. You broke my car, Steve."

"I did, but I don't see how I should pay for it."

"Agh!" You wanted to rip your hair out, a groan of frustration slipping out of you. "Please just drive. I have a car to pick up and the less time I have in here with you, the better. I don't want to argue with you anymore."

The air was so thick for the rest of the ride you could cut it with a knife. The only noise that could be heard was the engine mixed in with Steve's frequent huffs, and the chatter of the streets that would come and go at every red light.

When the bright blue banner of the garage came into view, Steve didn't even bother with parking and stopped right in front of the shop.

"I'll see you at home." He gave you a tight smile you ignored, stepping out and closing the door as loudly as you could.

You mumbled something about how annoying and unfair he was being, the ringing from the little bell at the door making a minimum of your frustration dissipate. John, the owner of the place, sat behind the counter; head stuffed in the day’s newspaper, cigarette dangling from his lips. He barely looked up from his paper as he heard you walk in.

"Afternoon," you greeted, walking towards the counter, sighing your feelings away as your hands rested on the cold surface. "You said my car would be ready by today?"

"Oh yeah," He didn't remove the cigarette from his lips as he spoke, his small eyes still fixed on the paper and smoke coming out between words. "We're a bit late on schedule," He turned a page, "Realized the fuel fucked up the engine more than we thought. Munson's still taking care of it in the back."

"Munson?" The name felt familiar.

"Yeah, Eddie Munson." The lightbulb lit up in your mind. You knew exactly who he was talking about.

"I didn't know he worked here."

"Mostly on weekends. But he's filling in for Rob today. You know him or something?" He lifted his eyes up to gaze at you through his blue square glasses.

"We go to school together."

"Alright. Well if you want to go see your car I'm sure he won't mind." You nodded and took this as your cue. Walking toward the doorway, the actual door was missing and was replaced by strings of blue and red clay beads. Now that you were closer, you could hear Metallica's The Four Horsemen faintly playing in the background.

The beads made a soft sound as you passed through them. The smell of fuel, rubber, and the metallic pungency of tools invaded your senses the second you walked in. The garage looked messy to an outsider–yet it was no different than other shops of the kind. A staple of car repairs in Hawkins, this little shop had seen business from every family and knew them all by name. The garage door was opened, giving out to a parking lot and letting the fresh air merge with the unnatural amount of toxins that emitted from each car, tire, and tank served. A range of different colored cars neatly parked outside, each either waiting for their turn to get repaired or for their owners to return.

Your car was parked in the middle of the room, and indeed–the boy you knew as Eddie Munson, the school's proclaimed freak and trouble maker who had decided to suddenly ask you out, was working on it.

His hair was tied back in a ponytail, head bowed into the hood. His black shirt was tight and hugged his torso perfectly, his jean jacket resting on a chair in the back of the room. The electric blue denim jumpsuit he called a work uniform was tied at his waist by the sleeves. The pants of it were decorated with car grease in large uneven patches on the sides as if he deliberately wiped his hands on them multiple times.

He blew a strand of hair away from his forehead as he leaned back to look at his work from a higher angle. His fingers were stained with black as they toyed with the wrench in his hand. He looked so focused. The crease between his eyebrows was evident as he figured out if his work was good enough.

"Thought you didn't want that date?" His voice brought you back from your staring, shoving away the odd feeling in your chest you hadn't noticed was there. You blinked, your expression changing.

"And I still don't. I came to see my car."

"This is your car?" He asked, eyebrows raised as he pointed to it with the tool in his hand.

"Yep." You patted the roof with pride.

"I didn't take you for a girl to confuse which fuel to put in her car." He smiled to himself, looking up from the car's engine to you.

Now he couldn't deny you looked nice–nicer than in that ugly Hawkins high sports uniform you had been wearing yesterday and at lunch again today. Something about volleyball tryouts.

Eddie had never really taken the time to see you. You had always been just a face in the crowd, but a cute one. His thoughts quickly processed and he remembered his mission. He knew loud and clear that he was just in this for the money, however, it didn't hurt that he found you pretty, and it definitely didn't hurt that you were wearing an Ozzy Osbourne t-shirt.

"Actually, that's my brother's fault."

"Ah, now I understand."

"Probably never going to let him use my car ever again."

"Yeah, he fucked it up pretty bad," he noticed. "It seriously poisoned the engine."

"How much longer do I have to wait?"

"Oh, I just finished!" He gave you his most charming grin before wiping his hands on the bottom half of his already disgusting jumpsuit. You could see the white patch with his name on it poking out from the folded top around his waist as he walked to where you were standing. "I just need to try it, see how it starts."

You took a step back to let him open the door and sit in the driver's seat, you could faintly hear the song fade away and the radio host taking over. Eddie left the door open as he turned the key and started the engine. The sound of the buzzing motor came and fully drowned the radio as it came loud and clear.

"It works!” He said as though it were a miracle. “And no smoke this time!" He seemed so happy it made you smile. "All set, princess." He turned the key and slipped out of the car, making his way back to the front and reaching up to close the hood.

"Thank you. I thought I was going to commit murder after a week of Steve driving me."

"No problem," he chuckled.

"How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing," he shook his head with big movements, making his ponytail sway from side to side. "On the house."

"You know that won't make me say yes to that date?" You put a hand on your hip, making him chuckle.

"I know."

"Don't think that getting me gifts is the way to my heart."

"What is the way to your heart?"

"That, I won't tell you."

"Just thought you shouldn't have to pay for what's your brother's fault."

"That's what I told him!" You pointed out. "No, but seriously how much do I owe you?"

"Nothing, I promise. Just get in the car and go do whatever pretty girls do on Wednesdays after school."

"Will John be happy you're giving away free service?"

"I'm sure good old John won't mind. C'mon! Get in! Get away from this smelly garage!" He waved towards the car when you didn't move.

You shook your head in disbelief before getting in and opening your window. "100% sure I can just leave?"

"Yes! Now go, before I change my mind." He watched with a smile on his face as you turned the car back on, smiling when everything worked perfectly.

"Thank you!" You cheered, waving as you made your way out, Eddie watching you disappeared down the road.

He breathed in heavily, walking to the half-broken sink in the back of the workshop. Once his hands were clean and dry he turned the radio off and reached for his coat which was still laying on the chair next to it. He reached in the pocket to remove his pack of cigarettes and lighter before fumbling with the jean, turning the jacket around to get access to the second pocket, pulling out some of the cash Steve handed him yesterday.

The blue and red beads made the familiar sound as he passed by the front desk.

"Did you let another girl leave without paying?" John looked up from his newspaper. "And I won't take a 'but she was pretty' as an answer this time."

"No," Eddie chuckled. "She gave me the money directly." Eddie put forty of Steve’s cash on the desk.

"Good."

"I'm taking my break." He nodded before stepping outside, cigarette already between his lips.

"Harrington! My new best friend!" Eddie cheered, a skip in his step as he made his way to Steve's locker the next day. Sleep still in Steve's eyes while Eddie's were bright and awake.

"What do you want?" Steve wondered as he stuffed his copy of Romeo and Juliet in his locker, only so he could forget it there and never see it again.

"I need your help."

"I thought you were the one helping me? And,” Steve paused his movements, “why is my sister still single?"

"I'm working on it… It's only been two days. And talking about your sister, if you want this to work, I need you to tell me what she likes."

"Well, she likes that same crappy music you listen to."

"I already knew that, not very helpful. Can't you tell me her interests? Her hobbies? What does she read? What does she do on weekends?"

"Well, I think she might read the same nerd stuff you do, but I don't know."

"You don't know? She's your sister," Eddie crossed his arms as he leaned on the neighboring locker.

"Can't you ask her out without all this information?"

"Nope. You saw what happened, I need to be smart about this," Eddie tapped the side of his head with his finger.

"Fine," Steve sighed, closing his locker. "I'll make a list and give it to you tomorrow."

"Works for me!" Eddie smiled and knocked a fist on the locker behind him before turning around to walk the other way.

"What was that about?" Tommy appeared out of thin air. His eyes fixed on Eddie who was already halfway down the hallway.

"He wants to know more about her. I have to make a list of stuff she likes." He took the hook of his backpack in his hand before he started to walk away.

"And you don't know all of that?"

"No, why would I?"

"Because she's your sister?"

"And?" He shrugged. "Shouldn't be my problem."

"What are you going to tell him?"

"I'll search through her room. See what I can find."

"Doesn't she hang out with that Barb girl? You could probably ask her for some stuff."

"Maybe."

"Plus isn't she like Nancy's best friend? Could make you gain some Nancy points."

"Yeah, that's not a bad idea," Steve nodded along.

As if on cue, you appeared in the hallway with headphones over your ears. Steve looked at you with narrow eyes as you made a stop at your locker. You were wearing a Star Wars t-shirt; that could be useful information.

The lunch bell broke his thoughts and he suddenly remembered it was pasta Thursday. Steve watched the students who were still stuck in class start filing out of classrooms, he would have to leave quickly to get in line before the additional cheese would have to be wrestled for and leave the students last in line with only butter for a minimum of flavor to the over-cooked dish.

Like every Thursday, the cafeteria was crowded. The chatter of students echoed loud and clear through the large room. Food had already been spilled and laughter could be heard. Everyone seemed to be exactly where they were supposed to be.

Steve with his friends, cheese proudly sprinkled on top of the macaroni that cooled just enough to be edible.

Eddie was at his table. The Hellfire club was a full house; each member munching at their food, anticipation and excitement coursing through their veins as they waited for tomorrow to come to continue Eddie's campaign.

"I'm telling you, this is a terrible idea!" Jeff nodded along Oliver's words.

"Why? It's good money," Eddie leaned back from his seat at the table, his eyes landing on you. You were at the table you normally sat at, talking with Eddie's physics partner: Barb.

Were you two friends? He wondered as he watched the interaction. You had a reputation for being a loner, yet you seemed to be smiling. A pretty smile that radiated over your features. Eddie noticed your Star Wars shirt, grinning to himself at the thought of a pretty girl like you being a fan of something he enjoyed too.

He hadn't noticed, but the entire hellfire table was staring at him, throwing looks at each other at the sight of their fearless leader cheesing it over some girl.

"This is bad," Eddie's right-hand man, Olvier, whispered into Jeff's ear. "Really, really bad."

"It might be good money, but don't you think it's, like, a little unethical?" Another boy from the table wondered.

"Unethical?" Eddie blinked at the words. "Since when have we had any ethics to begin with?"

"I don't know," the boy shrugged. "Just, imagine if she actually falls for you, and she finds out it was all a scam just so that her brother could get some?"

"She won't find out," Eddie cracked open his Mountain Dew, taking a sip from the tin can before continuing to speak. "And she's tough. You all saw what she did to Jeff's nose," the boy in question looked away in embarrassment. "I'm sure it would take her more than a few dates to fall for me."

"Right… Because leading someone on is totally the right thing to do to gain some extra cash," Gareth spoke up. "I still don't know why you've agreed to this. I don't want to be there when she finds out. Don't count on me to buy you flowers and dumb 'get well soon' cards for when she puts you in a coma."

"Don't think he'd even pass by the hospital," Another boy snorted. "He'd directly be put to his death." That made the entire table laugh, apart from Oliver.

The blonde had a serious shine to his eyes, a frown on the verge of forming. That wasn't what he was worried about, but he couldn't voice his worries, not right now.

That evening, Steve knew he had to work fast. He knew he only had an hour to get home from school, sneak into your room, and make a list of everything that could be useful before you'd be back from your hour of babysitting.

The second he swung the door open he was met with a sea of records and posters. Your bed wasn't made and your desk was a mess. Steve started his search with the desk. His eyes first landed on a big poster with four guys which, at second glance, he swore one looked like Eddie. He looked to the side to find another smaller poster of the same guy, smiling with his guitar. His name was written in bold on the side, but Steve didn't bother to fully read it. He shook the thought from his head before opening the main drawer. A collection of chapsticks rolled to the front, while random notes and spare coins sat at the back. He pushed some of the things around only to find concert tickets of events from eons past.

When he wasn't satisfied with the search, he moved to the smaller ones at the foot of the desk. Opening and inspecting each one with meticulous precision. When he opened the third one, his eyes went wide.

"Oh my God!" Steve reached for the blue game boy. His blue game boy he thought he had lost the year prior. He could see your pink one in the back of the drawer, the screen broken. He grabbed his, moving his hand through the different games to take his pick.

He put the console and games on the floor by the desk to reclaim them as his but continued his search. The fourth drawer had a magazine opened to a page showing multiple different electric guitars. You had circled one, Steve marked it down on his little piece of paper.

You liked guitar.

And you wanted an electric one, a specific model in particular.

Steve walked towards your shelf and scanned through your books. He made a face when he saw your small collection of Shakespeare. He wrote that down too. After that, he saw a few books by the same author. He recognized The Lord of the Rings, writing it down on his list. But then when his eyes scanned over the other works by the J.R.R Tolkein guy, he had to squint and reread the word at least 3 times to register it and to check if he had written ‘Silmirillion’ right. You had stacks of Rolling Stone magazines next to it except Steve barely bothered to skim through them.

His eyes landed on the big Star Wars poster next to him and on the spaceship on your shelf. He wrote that down as well.

Once he was satisfied, he grabbed his Gameboy and the selected games from the floor and left as though he had never been inside of it at all.

Steve's socked feet dropping from step to step down the stairs caught your attention. Like every Friday morning, he was wearing his blue shirt - his favorite one Tommy had gotten him for his birthday. His bag hung on one shoulder as settled for breakfast.

However, he wasn't looking at where he was going or making a cheeky comment to piss you off so early in the day.

His eyes were focused on the blue brick in his hand. The noise of the game rang before the realization hit. The familiar opening of a chest echoed through your ears and your eyes went wild.

The goddamn Gameboy.

"Are you playing Zelda?" He didn't own a Zelda game–you did.

"Yes. On my Gameboy that I found in your room! Also, I don't know how you can play this. It's too complicated."

"What were you doing in my room!?" Your hand collided with the table, making your breakfast jump.

"I was searching for it!" He bit back.

"Dad-"

"You shouldn't have taken his in the first place. You have one of your own. Steve, you shouldn't go into your sister's room, that's private. It's settled. End of argument. Can we eat in peace now?"

You grumbled something, melting in your seat before poking at a blueberry.

You were glad your car was repaired because you couldn't take another drive of Steve's whining and him complaining about how Zelda was too hard.

Fridays were the best. Not only because it was the day when you didn't have any classes with Steve, but also because it was a chain of your favorite classes that led right to the weekend.

But, Friday’s also went by faster than lighting because of it.

"Barb! You're sort of friends with my sister, right?" Steve appeared next to her like a child high on sugar.

"Yeah?" She looked up from her textbook and papers.

"I need you to tell me what she likes."

"What she likes? Why?" She placed the stray papers inside the textbook before putting them inside her bag, her gaze going to the classroom door where students were starting to leave. It was Friday. She wanted to run out of there and not spend any more time than she needed to in these horrible halls.

"Is that so bad that I just want to know my sister better?" He poorly defended himself, placing a hand on his hip to try and sound more convincing.

"That’s weird coming from you," she zipped her bag closed.

"Okay,” he brushed it off, “first, what does she like to do on weekends?"

"Steve-"

"Please just answer the question." He pressed on.

"Well, um… She really likes to go to The Hideout."

"That weird bar on the edge of town?" Steve made a disgusted face.

"Yes, she says she loves seeing new bands play and makes fun of them when they're terrible."

"Okay," Steve started writing it on his hand like notes for an upcoming exam.

"Are you really writing this down? Steve-" Barb lamented.

"I want to remember! Can't you just accept the fact that I want to be a better brother?"

"Right."

"Ok, what else?"

"She likes Hard Rock and Metal… She would die for Kirk Hammett and Axl Rose."

"Wh-who?"

Barb rolled her eyes. "Kirk is that guy from Metallica?” It sounded more like a question than an actual statement. “I think he's their guitarist."

"Oh! Is that the guy from the posters in her room? The one that has the same hair as Munson?"

"They all have the same hair as Munson," she pointed out. "But yeah, Kirk kind of looks like him, I guess." Barb blinked as she remembered your room from the little times she'd been there "Axl is the main for Guns ‘n Roses; blonde, blue eyed guy with long hair. Always wears a bandana and eye-liner."

"Mm-hm" He nodded for her to continue, writing keywords on the back of his hand.

"She also really likes the arcade and roller skating. Um, she likes fantasy stuff like those Star Wars movies and those big books…” Barb trailed off to think of the name.

“Lord of the Rings?” Steve filled in for her and she snapped her fingers in recognition.

“Yes! Lord of the Rings. And I think her favorite character is Darth Vader?"

"Is he from Lord of the Rings?” Steve asked and Barb furrowed her eyebrows at him like she couldn’t believe that is what came out of his mouth.

“Are you serious?”

“It’s… not?” Steve faltered and she shook her head.

“Star Wars… Bad guy…?”

"The guy with the helmet?”

“Mhm,” Barb hummed in reply.

"Okay, thank you! I think I'm all set."

"Are you sure you need this information just to be a better brother?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Thanks!" He beamed before running out of the room. Steve charged down the halls until he recognized the door with the theatre posters all over it.

"Here!" Steve burst into the drama room, earning a questioning gaze from Eddie.��

He was alone. Feet on the table that was even messier than the last time he was there. A book in his hand and he was practically one-hundred percent sure he had seen that same cover sitting on the shelves of your room.

"I have ‘the info.’" Steve slammed the note onto the table, in between the figurines and dice, before taking a seat in one of the rickety side chairs.

Eddie looked up from his book with a raised eyebrow and removed his feet from the table before scanning what was written.

"You missed the a," He pointed out and Steve looked at him strangely. "Silmarillion, not Silmirillion," Eddie showed him the cover of the book he was still holding.

"Whatever," Steve dropped his hand on the table. "That's the information I gathered."

"That's not a lot to work from," Eddie pointed to the paper with Steve’s scribbles on it.

"Look it should be enough," Steve huffed as Eddie read through the information. "But I've got more."

"She likes guitar, that's cool. She wants the same model I have."

"Oh yeah! She has a crush on that guy from Metallica, the one with the guitar."

"Which one?"

"I don't man, the one that looks like you."

"You mean Kirk?"

"Yeah! That's his name."

"Alright, good. I can work with that," A smirk rose on Eddie's lips. A sudden burst of confidence rose to his chest. He was your type. "Anything else?"

"I think her other crush's name has something with roses" he looked down at his hand, the writing so sloppy he could barely make it out.

"Axl?"

"Yep, that's the one!" Eddie could work with that. He basically owned half of the same wardrobe.

"She likes to go to The Hideout–you know that dodgy bar? She likes to go and judge the bands that play apparently."

"I'm in a band that plays at The Hideout."

Steve's mouth hung open into an 'O' shape before he spoke again. "Well, that's actually kind of perfect." He noticed, a bit more to himself than to Eddie. "She also likes the arcade and roller skating."

"Okay,” Eddie nodded, “What's her favorite arcade game?"

"I don't know? She stole my Donkey Kong game so she might like that?" It came out as more of a question than anything.

"Steve, what do you know?"

"Are you being sarcastic?" He narrowed his eyes.

"Maybe."

"Also her favorite Star Wars character is the villain."

"Palpatine?" Eddie scrunched up his nose, tilting his head.

"Pala-who? No, no, the other one, the guy with the helmet."

"Darth Vader?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it's arguable that's he's the villain-"

"Please keep that nerd bullshit for my sister," Steve cut him off and Eddie closed his mouth, crossing his arms against his chest, "that's all I have."

"Alright. I'll see what I can do." Eddie nodded before looking back to the table. "You should go," he tapped his watch, "Campaign's about to start."

"I'm home!" Steve yelled as the door closed behind him.

"Steve, can you come help me with the laundry?" Your mom called out from the laundry room. A large basket of folded laundry in her hands.

Steve rolled his eyes before slipping his shoes off and dropping his bag by the entrance. As he did, he noticed a pair of shoes and a bag he didn't recognize sitting by the doorway.

"Why can't Y/n do it?"

"Because she's babysitting. Here," she handed him the basket. "This side is your clothes, and this one your sister's. Just put yours in your room and put the basket with the rest in hers. Is that so hard to do?"

"Babysitting? But her shoes and bag are here?"

"Yeah, they're in the kitchen, baking."

"Ah," he grumbled something else before doing as told.

"So, got any plans for the weekend?" You asked Dustin as you placed the cupcake wrappers in the little molds.

"I'm going to Mike's. We're going to continue his campaign!" The curly-headed boy had a big smile on his face as he mixed the batter with all his might.

"That's nice," you smiled before you dipped your finger into the batter and stole a taste. "Our cupcakes are going to be amazing," you nodded, "high five."

One of his hands removed its grip from the bowl to collide with yours while the other stayed on the whisk.

"Do you need someone to drop you off or pick you up from Mike's?" You questioned as you started washing your hands, speaking a bit louder over the running water.

"No,” Dustin shook his head and his curls went bouncing, “mom said I could go all alone this time!"

"Oh my god," you put a hand to your heart. "Is my ‘lil Dusty growing up?" You faked a sniff, "are you going to fire me?" you wiped a fake tear.

"No!" He giggled at your dramatic sighs. "I still need you. I'm bored when you're not there and I have to spend entire afternoons home alone."

"I hope so," you pointed a finger at him, a small smile playing on your face as you turned back to the cupcake batter. "You still have to teach me how to play D&D, by the way. My half-written character sheet is still somewhere in my room."

"Yes! I promise. Once Mike's campaign is finished, we will do it."

"Deal," you grabbed the bowl and started to pour the mixture in each of the cupcake molds while Dustin washed up.

"What are you doing this weekend?" He wondered as he came back around, watching with big eyes as you skillfully poured just the right amount of dough into each section.

"Homework, probably."

"That's it?" His eyes went wider. Sometimes he thought you never had fun outside of babysitting him.

"No," you giggled. "Might go judge whoever is playing at The Hideout."

"I wish I could come with you," he sighed. "It sounds so much fun."

"Promise when you're a little older. I'll bring you and we can even make a bingo sheet out of it."

"What would we put on the bingo!?" His eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Well, stuff like, ‘did the singer's voice crack’, or ‘did he sing a wrong note’, or ‘did the guitarist mess up his chord?’ Oh! I forgot to tell you, last time I went, a band that came from Arizona was playing and the drummer threw up on his snare."

"Ew!"

"Yeah, it was disgusting. The whole band had to stop playing and the show was canceled."

"I'm surprised that you haven't met anyone there," Dustin sighed as he watched you put the cupcakes in the oven.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you always said that the boys in high school are unwashed miscreants," you giggled at the fact that he remembered your words. "You must have met someone cool at this bar."

"How many times must I tell you that I'm not interested in dating?" You laughed.

"But everyone is! Dating can be fun!"

"Not everyone, Henderson." Steve's voice came from the doorway. "Y/n is a peculiar breed of mean girl. No boy would even be interested in her, they're all terrified of her or either think she's a loser." Steve made an ‘L’ with his index and thumb, bringing it to his forehead as he poked his tongue out to you.

Steve thought you'd be in a better mood after he saw you laugh with Dustin, that you'd joke back like you always did, but when your eyes met his, your gaze became cold again. You were glaring daggers at him when he reached for the orange juice in the fridge.

"That's not true! She's like the coolest person on earth!" Dustin argued and a mocking chuckle came from your brother. Dustin's eyes were wide and angry as he looked at Steve pouring himself a glass and placing the bottle back in the fridge. The younger boy burned a hole in the back of Steve’s head before he disappeared into the living room.

"Don't listen to him," Dustin grumbled. "I would definitely ask you out if I was older!" That made you laugh; the hurt that started forming in your chest dissipated with his words.

"Well, thank you. But I do get asked out." ‘Especially recently,’ you thought. "I'm just not interested," You could see in his eyes he still didn’t take that as an answer. "Alright, my young padawan," you changed the subject and ruffled his hair. "Enough boy talk. Let's finish up your homework while these cupcakes bake."

"Why are you acting like this?" Steve's head poked from over your shoulder.

"Why am I acting like what?"

"You've been in a bad mood ever since Tuesday morning," Steve sat beside you by the kitchen counter. He quickly eyed what you were doing and saw your neatly written paper with all the answers to the history questions Mr. Click had assigned. Steve grabbed it but you quickly snatched it away.

"You're really asking me why I'm acting like this? Steve, you've been bugging me all week because you think I'm the answer to all your problems!" You dropped your pen in frustration. "It's not my fault you didn't do your English homework and it's not my fault you got shitty grades so now you're not allowed to get a girlfriend. And you're certainly not going to copy my history homework. You didn't even want to pay for my car and you were basically bullying me in front of the boy I babysit."

"But I always bully you," he pointed it out as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Saying it like his words were meaningless sibling banter and not him reinforcing ideas everyone thought. "And you said it yourself, the guy didn't even make you pay for the repair!"

"That's not the point! You have to stop acting like the things you do are my problem; stop asking me to get a fucking boyfriend and to read a book for you! And stop snooping around my work!" You almost screamed.

Steve was glad your parents were away at Enzo's for dinner because he would have gotten a really long lecture about bribing you to get a boyfriend and he didn't need that right now.

"But you won't get a boyfriend so now I'm stuck home on a Friday night."

"Wow, is that so bad?" You mocked before aggressively grabbing all of your pens and shoving them in your pencil case, stacking your papers before taking everything in your arms and walking up to your room.

"No! Don't leave!"

"Then stop annoying me!" You screamed from the top of the staircase. He heard your loud steps stomping the ground before your door closed with a loud thud and the small clicking of your lock.

You dropped your books and homework on your desk, sighing when you turned the lights on. Frustration burning in your veins, you turned your radio on and brought the volume as high as you could.

The start of Rainbow in the Dark started playing.

It was therapy. It was a cool cloth on the back of your neck on a hot day. Most of all, it was the remedy to tune Steve out and the world around you went silent sans the music that raced the airwaves of your room.

Steve could faintly hear it from the living room but chose to ignore it. This time, he will not give you the satisfaction of being annoyed.

You hummed the lyrics to yourself as you went through your bag, cleaning the empty wrappers and menial scraps that had accumulated through the week. You opened your planner and scanned around the homework for Monday.

Math

English

History

Spanish

You made the list as you went through the stack of textbooks on your desk and neatly placed the ones you needed on the side. You were about to turn around and decide which tape you wanted to listen to after this one when a knock came to your window.

You thought that you heard wrong. Maybe it was a chord in the song you hadn't noticed before. But when the sound of a rock hitting the glass struck again, this time you had the visual. It was a surprise you could still hear the soft clink over the loud music, and as you stepped to get closer, another one clashed with the glass.

You pushed the window up, Dio now playing loud and clear in the cool night air. You looked down to be faced with the last person you expected to see.

"Munson?" You raised an eyebrow. "I thought I told you to stop bothering me?"

"You haven't actually said those words," He echoed from down below.

He had a large smile on his face. His hair was loose and going wild while he was wearing a dark blue shirt that was ripped on the side–you knew you had seen the same shirt somewhere. Skinny jeans of matching color with chains dangling everywhere and purple reeboks complete the look.

It was a look. A completely chaotic, mismatched look that he made work because it was uniquely him.

The light from your window spread a glow over his features as he played with an additional pebble in his hand. For a second, you caught yourself thinking he was handsome. You found yourself shoving away the same weird feeling that had popped up after seeing him at the garage beside your car.

"What are you doing here?"

"I want to take you out," he beamed, dropping the pebble and taking a step closer to your window when the chorus of the song echoed louder through the air.

"I have homework to do."

"C'mon, it's Friday night, please?" He pouted, big brown eyes looking at you like a lost puppy. "I'm playing at The Hideout in 30 minutes, please just come. My van is parked a street away. Doesn't have to be a date."

"You never give up don't you?"

"No," he smirked.

You thought for a second. Dustin's words echoed from earlier: ‘dating can be fun.’ Maybe you could allow yourself just one night at the seedy bar where you would lose your shell. Maybe you could give Eddie Munson the chance to show you who he was behind all the rumors and 'scary' facade.

"I'll come with you on one condition," you levied at him and there was a spark of surprise that washed over his eyes.

"That is…?" He could feel the plan working. He could feel you giving in to him.

"Free drinks."

"Alright, yeah," he thought about the rest of Steve's cash stashed in the door of his van. "Deal."

"Give me a second to change, I'll be right back." You closed the window, then curtains before scurrying off to your closet.

Eddie was in it for the cash. That's what he told himself going into the deal, and that's what he had to remind himself when he watched you climb out of your window as Holy Diver played from your stereo and your feet hit the grass. You were wearing white pants. They were ripped almost everywhere and a chain was hooked to the one side, almost matching the way Eddie's wore his own. Black boots and a loose Metallica shirt brought the look together in some fever dream he was immersing himself in.

Eddie bit back a smile, nodding towards your shirt, "you have a great taste in music."

"I know." You looked at him up and down. "Is that Kirk Hammett's shirt from that cover of Rolling Stone they did two months ago?" You had noticed it when you came to your room and your eyes landed on said magazine.

"Maybe," he smirked. "Might have made it myself when the cover came out."

"Well, it's very nice. Suits you." For a second, you almost thought he looked like him. The same hair, eyes, and cheeky grin. Your heart doing a loop in your chest when you were starting to compare them; the guitar, being in a band. You shook the thought away quicker than it came and walked past him, turning back around when he didn't follow. "C'mon, what are you waiting for?"

"Nothing," Eddie smiled, dipping his chin into his chest before shaking his head and catching up to you.

"Are your parents not going to notice you're gone?"

"They're at dinner. They'll probably assume I'm sleeping by the time they're back."

"And your brother?"

"Nah. I turned the lights off, and the music will stop eventually. He'll have just about an hour left of Dio before he can have his peace."

"Sneaky."

You had never really noticed Eddie's van before. White with blue stripes and the smell of weed permanently stuck to its seats. It was oddly clean on the inside–with no stray papers or candy wrappers laying around like in yours. A guitar pick was dangling from the rear mirror and a bobblehead dragon stood on top of a dash like those Hula girls.

"I like the dragon," you noticed, tapping the top of his head with your fingers to see it move.

"Thanks. I won it at the arcade."

"You go to the arcade?"

"Yeah! Like all the time."

"Me too," you smiled to yourself, watching as he fixed his shirt when he settled in his seat.

"What proves to me that you weren't sent by my brother, the devil spawn?" You narrowed your eyes at him as he closed the door. Eddie's heart squeezing in his chest at the question, his hands began to sweat. You were smart. Really, really smart.

"Sweetheart,” the nickname fell from his tongue as if it were second nature, “you really think your brother would even think of talking to me?" That made you laugh. "I'm sure the idea in itself makes him shit his pants."

It did. But that was before Steve realized Eddie wasn't doing ritual sacrifices on the floor of the drama room.

"Yeah, you're right, sorry to assume," you laughed. "Just thought that maybe he would get really desperate and send the only guy in Hawkins who wouldn't be scared of me." Dammit you were smart. And if Eddie hadn't had as much acting practice from playing Dungeons and fucking Dragons he probably would have been busted the second the question left your lips.

"You don't have that much self-confidence do you?" Eddie narrowed his eyes and looked right at you, trying too hard to change the subject. "Look at you! You really think guys don't want to ask you out, just… because?"

You shrugged and played with the dragon's head again, watching it go up and down every time you touched it. "It's not that I don't, it's just… I'm not very approachable. People are usually scared of me and call me a heinous bitch. Steve gracefully reminds me of it every single day. Either that or they want to date me to be friends with 'Mr. King of Hawkins High',”

"Well, I definitely don't want to be friends with him," Eddie shook his head, making a weird face at the thought. "And I'm no picnic myself," his soft laugh echoed across the little space.

"Yeah, we both have a reputation, don't we?" You scrunched up your nose.

"Definitely," he grinned like it was the best badge a person could wear. "And for the record, I don't think you are a heinous bitch," He smiled, a real genuine smile that definitely wasn't an act. "I think you're very cool, Harrington. I don't know how I hadn't noticed you earlier," he meant it.

"You think I'm cool despite the fact that Steve ‘The Hair’ is my brother?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Despite that."

"Well, I think you're pretty cool too," a stare lingered a little bit too long between the two of you, causing Eddie to clear his throat and put his focus on starting the van.

"You know, never in the world did I think that ‘The Hair's’ sister would listen to Black Sabbath and Dio and like Star Wars."

"Why would you think that?" You smiled because to you, the assumption that you didn’t like any of those things was ridiculous. You wore shirts, listened to the music at near full volume through the hallways, and made it no secret that you weren’t afraid of liking the things you did just because some people found them ‘odd.’

"Because you're Steve Harrington's little sister?"

"So, you think I'm like my brother?"

"Oh, Christ, no. But, I thought you might be. Imagined you to be like a cheerleader of something until I realized that the second Harrington was the girl terrorizing everyone she crosses paths with."

"Jesus," You chuckled. "Imagine me dancing with pom poms."

"Now that's a sight I'd love to see."

"No,” you shook your head amused, “I would look ridiculous."

"I'm sure you'd look amazing."

"I would be a laughing stock! Then people wouldn't be scared of me anymore and where's the fun in that?"

"Yeah," Eddie chuckled with you. That was a fair assessment on your behalf. You weren’t the cheerleading type.

When he parked on the familiar grounds of The Hideout, he reached up for the switch, the small ceiling light making your eyes blink as they adjusted to it.

Eddie leaned toward you to open the glove box. Hand over your knees, he popped open the compartment and his hand barely grazed them as he reached into it. As he rummaged through it, he found a spare ring in the process. Eddie didn't hesitate to wear it on his one ring free finger the second his eyes landed on it.

"Ah-ha!" He smiled when he found what he was searching for. A long thin black tube was between his fingers that made your eyebrows raise high.

"Eyeliner?"

"What? Every rock star wears it." You laughed at the idea of Eddie putting on eyeliner, but it died on your lips when you realized he was being serious and started applying it around his eyes. "Don't look at me like that! Axl Rose wears eyeliner all the time!"

"Yeah, you're right. Axl Rose does wear eyeliner," you smiled at Eddie's comparison to him. Watching his movements as he looked at his eyes through the rear mirror. He definitely wasn't an eye-liner expert; the start of his lines were messy and he was making everything uneven.

For a long minute, he looked like a panda and had to rub some off the black with his fingers. It was far from perfect, but he seemed happy with it.

"How do I look?" He gave an award winning, teeth baring grin when he fully turned to face you.

Now, if you from Monday asked yourself what you thought you would be doing on Friday night, the last thing that would have crossed your mind would have been sitting in the parking of The Hideout with Eddie Munson, gaping at him like a fish as he turned to you with the most adorable grin you had ever seen, wearing eyeliner and comparing himself to your two favorite musicians, and every word dying in the back of your throat as the same unknown feeling that had now crossed you twice upon gazing at him came back.

"Good," you attempted but your words came out in a mumble, blinking the shock away. "You look good. A real rock star." In all truths, he looked really really good. So good you wondered how you had never noticed it before, especially from all your past trips to The Hideout.

Surely you would have noticed someone you went to school with or someone who looked like that.

"Great," he smiled even wider, grabbing the pick necklace from his rearview mirror. "Can't forget the lucky charm,” he winked before opening the door of his van and jumping out.

The Hideout was familiar.

Always the same people flocking to the little joint apart from a few new faces that changed every weekend. The same dark ambiance and washed-out lighting, the same pool table with the same five drunks playing every weekend and sometimes on Thursdays after the monster truck race outside of town.

It wasn't crowded. It never was. But on Fridays, there were always enough people to consider it a crowd, causing a cheerful spirit to hang in the air. Even Madame Bijoux seemed happier on Friday nights. Maybe it was the only day of the week she and the people of Hawkins forgot she was a French woman that came to the bar every day at six, drinking whiskey while wearing all of the jewels she owned and claiming she was waiting for her long-lost love to come back.

It was some Shakespearean tale playing out before your eyes each week.

She was a treasure, practically a ghost from another world but she sat drinking her whiskey with a mystical whimsy about her. Those jewels, the long-lost love… it was all too good to be true most days.

The same stage stood in the back, a banner with Corroded Coffin written in black doubled with red, hung on the side. One of the boys you knew to be in advanced English was still working on setting up his drum set.

But you didn't know why this time everything felt different.

Maybe it was because this time you hadn't gone alone. This time you were accompanied by the leader of its band who played there three times a month. Or that you had suddenly found him handsome and your mind became a mess of thoughts and your body was vibrating with unknown feelings. It certainly didn't help that his eyes wouldn't leave you as you made your way through the small crowd to reach the stage.

"That's Gareth," Eddie pointed at his friend once you were close enough to see. "He's a Freshman and a smartass."

"Is that why he's the only Freshman in advanced English?"

"Exactly why,” He nodded. "Joined Corroded Coffin last year when our drummer graduated."

"Question, why are you in advanced English?"

"They said that it would gain me more points. That I'd have a better chance of graduating if I took it."

"How’s that working out for you?"

"Horribly," Eddie chuckled, waving hello to someone behind your shoulder before continuing. "Definitely quitting at the end of the year. They can shove their extra points up their asses."

"Awww, and I won't get to stare at your empty seat for hours every week? What. A. Shame." Your words brought a fighting smile to Eddie's lips.

"Yeah, sadly. My sincerest apologies," he smirked, "but the year isn't over. Maybe I can think of showing up so you can stare at something more interesting than an empty chair."

"You would do that for me?" You gasped. "I'm impressed."

"You should be."

"This is bad," Oliver leaned his chin in the palm of his hand, his fingers covering his mouth as he sighed.

"You realize you say this every time you see them talk or we mention her?" Jeff side-eyed his friend before looking back to the two of you from their spot. They were standing in the back of the room, right near the stage–a place perfect for spying the crowd.

"Yeah," Oliver nodded, "but I'm saying it because it's true."

"You know the worst that can come out of this is Eddie having to take a trip to the emergency room?"

"No," he shook his head, blonde hair moving with him. "It's his heart I'm worried about."

"His heart?"

"Think about it. Y/n has always been described the same way people have always described Eddie. It's a mystery they weren't friends before this," Oliver crossed his arms. "Eddie asked Steve to gather up some info on her–I read it and Eddie doesn't see it, but they're practically soulmates."

"Oh."

"And her celebrity crush is Kirk Hammett"

"Oh."

"Yeah!"

"This is bad."

"It's very, very bad. I know Eddie. He wears his heart on his sleeve and cares too much. He's going to end up falling for her, I can already see it happening! Her too, and then when she finds out her brother paid him it's going to be like an atomic bomb going off. She's never going to forgive him and we’re all going to burn along with him."

Jeff didn't have the words to reply. He continued watching the two of you from a distance; Eddie had just made a joke, his face sparkling with joy. You were laughing loudly, the sound barely audible in between the chatter, and Eddie was definitely blushing.

Oliver watched, almost angry at the situation when Eddie placed the hand that wasn't holding the guitar strapped on his back in place on your back to escort you through a cluster of people.

Both your laughters became audible when you were just a step away.

"Hey guys!" Eddie turned his head to face his friends. His features lit with something more than usual–Oliver didn't like one bit of it.

"Hey," you greeted them with a shy wave.

"Guys, this is Y/n," Eddie pointed to you, both of them giving small waves in return. "This is Oliver, he's on second guitar," Oliver stiffly nodded. You could feel the cold in his eyes upon eye contact, as if he didn't want you here. It made you awkwardly look away towards Jeff, but that didn't help the awkwardness you were feeling.

"Um, that's Jeff," Eddie's voice became low as he said it, knowing your past interaction with the boy. You gave another awkward wave but he just glared at you. Great, you definitely did not feel welcomed by his friends.

"I'll have to leave you here," Eddie turned back to you, gloriously saving the moment from turning into an awkward silence. "Need to get ready with the band."

"That's alright. I'll go find a seat and get something to drink," you smiled, a warm smile that warmed Eddie's heart. His gaze followed you until you were lost in the sea of people.

"You should flirt less," Oliver said before looking back to his guitar, fixing the strap before placing it around his shoulders.

"Huh?" His words took Eddie by surprise.

"You should: Flirt. Less." He repeated, accentuating the words with each syllable. "Can’t have her really think this is going to lead to a real relationship," Eddie blinked at his friend's words.

"Have you seen the way she is around me?" Eddie pointed to the crowd as if pointing to you. "I don't think she's even close to thinking about actually dating," Eddie scoffed and brushed the words off his shoulder.

"Are you blind?" Oliver’s eyes went wide. Did he not just see the way he was laughing with you? Or acting around you? The way he touched you and blushed and made your own person radiate an energy Oliver only associated with the magical powers of flirtation and charm.

"What?"

"Nevermind," Oliver had enough. If Eddie wanted to put himself in this situation, then he would let him.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" Eddie raised his voice as Oliver walked towards the stage and away from him.

"Nothing. You should set up your guitar and mic. We play in five."

You had seen Corroded Coffin play a hundred times. And each and everyone of these times you knew they were getting better. Each new song they wrote dripped of a new skill, stronger lyrics, and more passionate skillful music. As the band got older, the songs got better. They were all goddamn talented and from the hundreds of other bands you had seen play in this shitty bar, you knew that they had a better chance than anyone else who stepped on the bumpy wooden planks of this stage to become big.

But when the lights went out and everyone started cheering, it felt like you had never seen them before.

The first chords of Eddie's guitar rang through the darkness like a ship finding its port in your soul. You recognized their most recent title: 'Walking in the Dark' . The song started with a guitar solo, almost slow, melancholic, until the whole song was flipped upside down and it became worthy to be featured in a Metallica album.

When the second chord started after a beat, the spotlight set on Eddie. And maybe it was the sip of beer you had just taken, but chills climbed up your shoulders as he started to play. He looked so focused, more than he could ever look while fixing cars just for extra cash. Your eyes lit up as you watched him play the most difficult part of the riff. His hair was going crazy, crazier than ten minutes earlier when you were still by his side and a small smile crossed your cheeks when he shook his head in a poor attempt to move strands of hair away from his face.

People cheered when the rest of the band started to play, and the lights came back in on rhythm with the music. When Eddie started singing, a few drunks joined in like they were singing along to their favorite song. Corroded Coffin having become a staple of the joint, the most fidel clientele had started to know most of the lyrics by heart–you included.

And you hadn’t even realized that this Eddie had been one you admired from afar every time they played, three times a month.

The whole place lit up like fire. The crowd was chaotic–as chaotic as a crowd of drunk Hawkins residents and travelers who had stopped at a motel for the weekend could be. People were raising their drinks with the music, and you felt yourself enjoying the show more than you had in a very long time.You never wanted it to stop.

But everything good had to come to an end. As your beer decreased in its glass, Corroded Coffin’s setlist came to an end. The crowd of singers became smaller, and the alcohol in their veins augmented with time. A fight that had broken out over a spilt drink was taken outside, and the wood on Gareth's drumsticks was periodically chipping away, threatening to split in half with every hard beat.

The last notes rang through the bar and the seven lonely drunks left on the makeshift dance floor attempted to clap, accompanied by the few tables that were finishing up their drinks or food that was left over from their dinner's, the waiters and of course; you.

The entire band was catching their breath, smiling at each other and sharing 'we did well' looks. You watched from your spot at the bar as Eddie shook his head and wiped the sweat of his forehead with the back of his hand. He had the brightest smile and you couldn't help but mimic the sight when his eyes met yours from across the room.

Five minutes later, he was standing right next to you, ordering beers for the entire band and another for you.

"So, you like it?"

"Better than other times. You guys are getting better," you smiled, your hand fiddling with your empty glass.

"That's because this time I knew you were in the crowd," he winked, his smile burning even brighter than before. He dropped a ten dollar bill on the cold surface as the women behind the counter handed him the five glasses.

"On the house," she smiled and Eddie was glad you hadn't noticed the way he flinched when he had to repocket the bill he was trying to get rid off.

"Thanks," he nodded, trying his best for his smile not to look fake before turning to you. "Will you help me? The rest are sitting at that booth over there," he pointed with his head, already grabbing two beers and holding the third one by the tip of his fingers in between the two others.

You grabbed the last two before following him.

"You sure you don't want to be alone for your date?" Oliver stated a bit too dryly when you carefully placed the beers on the table.

"Oh this isn't a date" you smiled, your tone directly opposite from his.

"It isn't?"

"No, I refuse to date in high school," you sat down, Eddie sliding into the booth next to you.

"Then what are you doing here?" He narrowed his eyes.

"First of all, I'm not new to The Hideout. I come here all the time. I was there when you fainted on stage two months ago," you pointed to Oliver with your drink before taking a sip.

"Holy shit! I remember that! It was so embarrassing," Gareth chuckled in between beer sips.

"Secondly, I came here with him so he would stop bugging me," you nudged Eddie's shoulder.

"Is that so? Is it not because you find me incredibly handsome?" He put on a fake offended look, placing a hand to his heart.

"No," you giggled. "Sorry to bruise your ego"

"My ego is very bruised"

"You'll recover"

"I don't think I can."

Oliver looked away, his look just getting colder. Eddie seemed to notice, looking at him inexplicably before glancing back at Gareth. Oliver and Jeff might have been giving you the cold shoulder, but conversation flowed naturally with the youngest member of the band.

Around an hour into the conversation, Jeff left. ‘Curfew at 1 am’ were his words before he walked out without even giving you a proper goodbye. But Oliver stuck around, despite the bad feeling that rested at the pit of his stomach when seeing how much you and Eddie got along.

"Wait! So you actually kicked Kevin in the balls?" Gareth held his stomach to try and stop from laughing.

"YEAH!" You laughed with him. "He was being rude to Barb and I think that he hasn’t removed his jock strap since."

"You’re a menace!"

"Kids, as much as I love hearing your laughter and enjoy seeing people have a good time, we're closing up,” the waitress you knew as Clara pointed to the clock on the wall. 3:30 am.

Your eyes went wide, you had never spent that long at The Hideout before. You all looked at each other, Gareth's eyes went to his drum set with a desperate sigh.

"I'll help you put it in your trunk," Oliver said as he finished off the rest of his glass.

"We can help too!" You proposed but Gareth shook his head no.

"No, go home. Don’t worry about it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"It would go faster if we helped."

“Don’t worry about it,” Oliver’s stiff words snatched the smile right off of your lips and Eddie placed a hand on your shoulder.

“They’ll be fine,” he turned to you with a tired smile. "C’mon, “I’ll go grab my guitar and I'll bring you home."

"You better because you're the one who drove me here," you joked, making him smile a bit wider.

It was so easy to keep smiling without remembering every second was based on a bet.

Eddie kept the grin on his face as he walked towards the stage, removing his instrument from its stand before shouldering it.

Your gaze fell back to Oliver and Gareth who were still planted in front of you. Oliver was still glaring icy daggers at you while Gareth just smiled. A sweet smile that made Oliver’s gaze less terrifying.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow?” Eddie asked as he came back towards you.

“Yep, bye!” Oliver waved you both off before running off towards the stage.

“What’s up with him?” Eddie asked Gareth who gave him his best shrug of the shoulders.

“I don’t know.” That was a lie, and he was glad Eddie was preoccupied with you or else he would have seen right through it.

“Weird,” he looked at his friend who was battling with a screw from the drum set. “Shall we?” He turned back to you.

“Yep.”

“Bye!”

“Bye Y/n!” Gareth’s smile warmed the cold of Oliver’s goodbye.

Eddie’s hand didn’t leave the small of your back until he had to push the big two doors open. A breeze came rushing in, making you instantly shiver.

"Fuck, I should have taken a sweater," you had somehow forgotten you were barely at the start of spring and that the air was still cold and called for layers.

"I think I have one in the van," Eddie said as he watched you rub your shoulders with both your palms.

"No, it's alright-"

Before you could protest, he opened the back and carefully strapped his guitar to the side before rummaging through a big green bag he always kept there. Eddie fished a balled up sweatshirt from it.

"Here," there was a sincerity in his words that you couldn’t protest. As the cool spring air passed you by once more, a new shiver was sent tumbling down your spine.

"Thanks," you took the black washed out fabric in your hands before placing one arm in each and hooking it over your head. The end of the sleeves were ripped, and small holes were at the edges of the neck, but you didn't mind. It smelt so much like him it almost made you swoon. And you weren’t a swooner. Weed and cigarettes mixed in with his cologne that smelt like wood and cinnamon. You even put the cuff of the sleeve up to your nose when he wasn't looking. But you weren't going to admit that.

The ride was peacefully quiet. Eddie hummed something you didn’t recognize. You thought it may have been a new song he was working on. The dragon’s head on the dashboard was going up and down almost in rhythm to his music as the van made its way in the direction of your house. Everything felt so perfect you had to do your best to stop from dozing off from pure contentment that washed over you as the dark, early morning streetlights fluttering in and out every second his van sped down the road.

Everything was peaceful, relaxing, and absolute against your better judgment. You weren’t used to feeling this way, let alone willing yourself to reflect on the emotions that surged through your veins every moment spent in his presence.

“I’m sure he’ll come around,” You blinked the sleep away as the words fell out of his mouth. You looked at him, questions as to who was written all over your features. “Oliver. I don’t know why he was so cold.”

“It’s alright,” You looked at the trees passing by. “You know I’m used to people being that way around me.”

“Hmm,” He didn’t sound convinced. Something in his eyes telling you he wasn’t happy with how his friend treated you so poorly. Jeff had a reason, but Oliver didn’t. Even Jeff had acted more civil than Oliver.

The ride came to a stop faster than Eddie wished; parking himself in the same spot he had hours before when he picked you up.

“Thank you for the ride,” You gave him a small smile as you reached to open the door.

“You don’t think I’m going to let you walk back alone at this hour?” He raised an eyebrow and every reply was stolen from your lips. He chuckled when he saw your dumbfounded expression. “C’mon! Let’s go!”

You stepped out of the van, the air getting colder again. Eddie’s sweatshirt suddenly felt like your best friend when another rush of wind blew.

The forest road felt so quiet. High trees surrounding a crumbling strip of pavement Hawkins liked to call a road. A cat stood up on the gates of your neighbor’s home, glaring at you with his big eyes. Halloween was still months away. You started walking through the little gravel road that separated your parents' property with the others, Eddie ducked when some branches almost collided with his face.

"What are you doing?" You stopped as you watched him crouch next to the big rose bushes of your neighbor's home. Quickly, he stood back up, a brightness washing over him in the night as he waddled back towards you, a pink rose in his hand. Not wilted, perfectly formed.

"I just wanted to show this rose how incredibly beautiful you are," he pointed it to you with a wide grin. He was pulling from a playbook you never heard from.

For a golden second, you let the feeling invade you. That vulnerability of being loved, feeling appreciated. But it never lasted long with you. The years of people calling you mean and unapproachable, those words and this identity that you wore as a shield always came back. The bricks of a wall willing to crumble given the chance were fortified again, building higher and higher until you couldn’t see who was on the other side. Before the heat could be felt in your face, where it couldn’t stay for too long, you grabbed the rose and rolled your eyes.

If you couldn’t enjoy the romance of it, you could jest the humorous aspect of it.

"Holy hell, that's the cheesiest thing someone has ever said to me."

"Well, you're welcome. I guess?" Eddie chuckled, pocketing his hands as he walked beside you. He wasn’t embarrassed. Eddie took that statement with pride because now he had a one up on the rest of the guys who tried to hit on you with textbook lines that made no impact at all. He would gladly take ‘cheesy.’

"This is my stop," You smiled. "I should probably give this back," You made a move to remove the sweatshirt from your body but Eddie shook his head.

"No, no. Keep it," You were glad it was dark because you felt the blowback of his words strike you with surprise. It was all over your face, and it was all at the thought of keeping his sweater.

"Thanks," a light wind blew once more and you brought it a bit closer to your body. Boldness coursing through your veins, you leaned in and kissed his cheek as you prepared to depart. "I'll see you on Monday." You gave him a soft smile that brought butterflies to his stomach. He watched as you skillfully jumped over the barely three-foot high fence.

"Does that mean I can finally take you out on a real date?"

"Maybe!" You turned around to answer him. Winking before disappearing in between the trees of the mini forest surrounding your house.

Eddie could still spot you by the bright white of your pants, a dopey smile on his face as butterflies fluttered inside his stomach.

And maybe he wasn’t in this just for the money.

But the aspect that he was… well, that turned everything upside down.

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jenomark · 4 years ago

Text

➔Pairing: Ten x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Smut ➔Warnings: penetration, little bit of a breeding kink ➔Word count: 1,903

➔Summary: Ten never wanted a baby until he saw you hold one. Now, he not only wants to have a baby with you, but he wants to have fun making one, too.

~Anon Requested~

if you don’t mind - i have a request for ten. i feel like i don’t see a lot of things like this for ten and maybe i’m just not looking properly 😭 but maybe something like ten x y/n having been in a long term relationship and y/n wants a baby, she’s been asking for one for ages and ten just doesn’t want one until one day he sees y/n with her friend’s baby and he loses it. like he immediately goes “now. lets do it now.” i just see lots of dirty talking on ten’s part too 😭 like he has a sudden change of heart. i hope that’s not too much 🥺

Ten opened his front door and immediately tripped over a baby toy. He looked down at the colorful plastic, a confused expression on his face. A little chubby hand reached out to grab the toy, and Ten's eyes followed the toddler all the way across the room. He kept looking back at Ten, as if he were challenging him to a chase.

"Hello." Ten said, waving when he saw you and your best friend watching him from the couch. "It's nice to see you again."

"Likewise," your friend said. She got up and picked up her toddler, who was getting into a stack of expensive books on top of the coffee table, opening the covers and attempting to rip out the pages. Ten winced, his face unable to hide his disdain.

It's not that Ten didn't like children. It's not that he was scared of them either. He just didn't know how to act around them, so he steered clear of their sticky hands and faces. He didn't know fully if he wanted kids with you, even though he knew that you did. It was never his first thought, or his second.

The toddler started kicking his legs, hitting his mothers stomach with each little kick, wanting to get down from the prison of his mother's arms. A phone rang, muffled by the sound of a purse. Ten wondered if he should step in and help, but everything was moving so fast. Your friend handed the toddler to you and answered the call, going into the bathroom for privacy and shutting the door behind her. There was a moment where you and Ten stared at each other, you willing the motherly instincts to kick in, and him scared for you.

"What do I do?" you asked. "He's upset."

The toddler was heading towards a full-on meltdown. Ten froze, not really knowing what to say. You looked helpless holding the baby, your hands not really knowing what to do. Slowly, you began rocking him in your arms, something you had seen your friend do multiple times. There was something about the movement that calmed all three of you down. The toddler stopped whining and looked up at you with wide, teary eyes.

"Keep doing that." Ten said. "You're doing great, baby."

You were mesmerized by the kid. You kept touching his little fingers and his cheeks. Feeling a little braver, you rocked him harder and fixed him in a better position. You began to feel confident in the way you handled him, the gentleness with which you patted his back. You pouted your lips when he put his little head on your shoulder and rubbed his eyes.

"So cute." you whispered. "Look, he likes me."

Ten came closer to watch you soothe the toddler. He couldn't keep his eyes off of you. He let his hand caress the back of the toddler, the soft blue shirt wrinkling beneath his fingertips. He felt like he was in a trance, swaying back and forth where he stood. Suddenly, he was overcome with so many emotions he had never felt before.

"Do you want to hold him?" you asked.

Ten shook his head no, the fear coming back. "I like watching you hold him. You would make such a good mother."

Ten imagined what his kids with you would look like. Would they have your hair and skin tone? Would they be tall? He hoped they would have your patience and beauty, maybe some of his humor and intelligence. He could imagine it so clearly, that if he reached out, he could touch it right in front of him.

"I want to have a baby with you." he said, even surprising himself.

"What did you just say?" you asked, heaving the toddler closer to you as he fell asleep.

Ten kissed you, maneuvering around the sleeping toddler as best as he could. "I want a baby with you. Now. Right now."

When your friend left, Ten was all over you. The door barely soft-clicked before he backed you against it, pinning your arms above your head and kissing your neck. If he hadn't made it harder for you to touch him, you were sure you'd be just as needy.

"You smell so good." he said, hungrily nipping at your skin. "And you taste good, too."

His lips and hands were all over you. By the time he was done, you looked like you had been roughed up a little. You were breathless, your brain trying to catch up to the way your body felt. And it felt everything.

Ten wanted a baby. You were not expecting the days turn of events. You hadn't been bothering him about it for years or anything, but it was always in the back of your mind. You yearned to make babies with him, to have his beautiful babies peppering the earth. Now that he was agreeing, you had to make sure he wasn't just saying it on a whim to make you happy.

"Are you sure?" you asked, cupping his face. "That this is what you want? With me?"

"Baby, I've never been so sure of anything in my life." he said. Then, he got really close to your face so that his hot breath blew against your cheeks. "Let me fill you up."

"Oh." you said, feeling a burn in the pit of your stomach.

Ten picked you up and carried you to the couch. The way he looked at you made you come alive. You could feel the heat on your skin wherever his eyes traveled. You began taking off your own clothes impatiently, watching him closely when he removed his own shirt. You touched his arm, your fingers sweeping over his tattoo. He had never been sexier than in that moment, his body ready to be with yours in every way possible.

"You are beautiful." he said.

Naked on the couch, you opened your legs and wrapped them around his waist. There was something about the lack of protection that turned you on. You were excited by the anticipation of feeling him inside of you as he was, each slick inch driving you towards an orgasm that would blow your mind. Ten was always addicting, but without the restraint, you didn't know how you could control yourself.

On his knees, on the couch, he crawled over to you. Ten grabbed your waist and pulled your body upwards, letting his fingers linger on the soft flesh of your stomach. He leaned over you to kiss you on your lips before moving his mouth down to your breasts. You reached between his legs to stroke his cock, as his mouth closed around your hard nipple. Ten paused, closed his eyes and let his forehead drop against your chest.

"Keep doing that and there won't be any more of me left to give." he said.

You laughed over his embarrassment. Usually, Ten could hold out for a long time, but there was something about the thought of making a baby that made him sensitive to your touch. You touched his nipples, his chest, his throat. You wanted to feel and see the sweat glisten on your fingertips.

"God, I'm so turned on." you said, running your nails up and down his back.

Ten lifted his head off of you and looked down at you. There was a moment of silence where he understood how much he loved you, and that anything that was a part of you would always be loved by him. He touched your stomach briefly, imagining a baby resting inside. He slipped his cock inside of you without saying anything, fucking you slow enough to make you greedy.

"I want more." you said, reaching out. "More."

He kept going slow, reeling back on his legs, and entering you over and over. You lifted your legs into the air and he placed them on each of his shoulders, bending over to get into a better position. He looked into your eyes as he fucked you, picking up the pace as he watched you lick your lips. He kissed the side of your calf before driving himself in deeper.

"I want it." you said. "Give it to me."

"You want it harder?" he asked, beads of sweat starting to pool in his collarbone.

"Yes." you said, reaching your arms above your head to grab onto the end of the couch.

From underneath your body, the couch cushions were starting to get messed up, but neither of you cared. Ten fucked you harder, not noticing how with each thrust, the couch moved a few centimeters. You were in the throes of passion, with nothing able to bring you both out but each other.

Ten let out a laugh and said through gritted teeth, "I think this might be the fasted record I've ever...."

You touched your own breasts, knowing that the visual would send him over the edge.

"Come on, baby." you said. "I want it."

Ten came inside of you, his body freezing up before the release. He pulled himself out of you a little bit so that he could see his cum spilling out. He pushed himself back inside, watched the streaks of white collect on his shaft. When he felt he was finished, he collapsed on top of your body and stayed warm inside of you, praying that it was a good start to making a baby.

Some time in the middle of the night, Ten woke up to your soft kisses on his cheek. He blinked lazily in the darkness, his hands reaching out to touch your hair. It felt like a dream. You held his hands as you climbed on top of his body, your naked skin touching his. It was a beautiful dream.

Ten's mouth was quiet, but his whole body was loud. His cock was hard, just from feeling the pulsing flesh above him. His muscles were tense, his lips moist. He was fully awake now, and not too far from begging you for it. You lifted your body up, took hold of his length, and pushed him inside your wet warmth.

"Fu-cccck." Ten said.

You rode him like you hadn't just had him earlier in the day, like he hadn't filled you up with every last drop hours ago. You wanted more of him, so you let him deep inside of you by your own control, not letting him take your hips to rock you back and forth. You pressed your hands against his chest and let yourself go. Tilting your head upwards, your hair cascading down your back. You let out a moan, and a soft whisper of his name.

"Baby." was all Ten said before you put your finger to his mouth and stuffed one inside. He sucked on it, his tongue tickling your skin.

You kept at it, fucking him and riding him in the darkness. It wasn't long before you came first, your whole body shaking against his. You slowed a little bit until you got a good look at his face, his beauty outlined by the moonlight. Clenching your thighs, you rode him a little harder, ready to make him cum for the second time that day.

Ten moaned, his face scrunching up with pleasure. He whimpered before he came, releasing himself inside of you, the sweet taste of your fingers and your love still in his mouth.

#ten #ten smut #ten fanfiction #nct #nct smut #nct fanfiction #nct ten #nct ten smut #wayv #wayv smut #wayv fanfiction #ten nct

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mrpenguinpants · 4 years ago

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Genshin: University AU [V1]

I love modern au. Or any “everything is fine, no one died, it’s just a fever dream” au. Half of me is thinking, damn maybe I should answer this serious- LOL HAHA no. That’s not happening. Time to crack my knuckles and let my brainworms take over again.

Once again, this is 90% crack 10% content. I want to switch up my characters from the last brainworm post but I included Kaeya and Diluc.

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Today’s appreciation post goes to twistedwishes. Hey! I’ve been seeing you pop up a lot lately and thanks for the support 💕💕 I hope things are going better for you and you’re doing alright^^ I feel kinda bad for making appreciation posts on crack fics but hopefully this is somewhat funny haha.

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Genshin: Holding Hands [V1]

Genshin: When you’re cold [V1]

Genshin: Roommate [V1]

Genshin: Royalty AU [V1]

[Masterlist]

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[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@mikeysbike @hanniejji@unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @youaskedfurret @diaxfeliz @wintergreen-aix @dandelily @thegayrubberducky @lovelykittycatmeow @yuunoagivesmelife @dokidokisama @simpygrimoire @minakohasmanyhusbandos @strwbrry-lia @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki

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Diluc

Absolute pretty boy who has braincells, but only if Kaeya is not there. In his mind, Kaeya’s presence makes his room loose 40% of their common sense. He can’t prove it just yet but he’s working on it. He majors in accounting but also has a minor in marketing, logistics’ management, fia- he majors everything business related. He’s going to become the next Elon Musk through smarts or by getting the competition drunk. There can be no contest if he’s the only candidate. He’s actually a hard working guy that overworks and stresses way too much. You have daily “Diluc recharge” evenings where he just hangs onto you while you go through your day.

“Don’t fucking talk to me until I’ve had my coffee,” except there is no coffee - he drinks grape juice out of juice boxes and his only energy boost is when he meets up with you - and that’s his constant mood. So he usually only hangs around you and Jean, since she has childhood friend status and is actually an angel. By default, Lisa is added and Diluc doesn’t mind her but if he see’s Kaeya, it’s full on war paint mode. If he's not busy with work or studies, he's usually with you either in your dorm or his apartment.

He has a fanclub and he seriously hates it and tries to do everything in his power to get Ningguang to take it down. Shouldn’t this be against his rights? But she refuses for whatever reason and makes a whole speech about free will. No matter what he does, someone manages to take a picture and it get’s printed in the university’s newspaper. The only bonding time he has with Kaeya is every Monday, where they collect and burn all the universities newspapers before anyone can get their hands on it. You always bring marshmallows to make smores during their arson activities.

“When I graduate I’m going to burn this school down to the ground. That’s not a threat it’s a promise.”

Ningguang

Is secretly the leader of the Diluc fanclub - not that she likes Diluc, she’s in a questionable platonic poly marriage with you and Beidou - but it was the easiest way to gain funds for the student council. Which she is the president of, so rip Diluc the fanclub stays. Ruthless business woman I tell you. But she can run in heels so her danger factor rises by at least 20%.

Majors in social sciences and law but more specifically the political science & government. She saw the Imperial State Crown that the Queen of England wears and says yes, that’s mine now. If she’s not with Beidou and you planning on “how to infiltrate the state government just for lols”, then she’s with Keqing, Ganyu, and Zhongli discussing student council things. Should they or should they not tell the student body that they can see everyone’s search results? Sit back and relax as the school goes into chaos.

She’s probably the scariest person on campus No, she is the scariest person on campus. She’s the scariest person on campus. But secretly she’s popping 20 aspirins just to make it through a night. She has the digestive system of steel. She still holds the title of "seriously do not try and beat her in a drinking game it's never going to happen" and that's her proudest achievement in life but sadly she can’t put it on her resume. Kaeya is still trying to beat her out of spite but so far it hasn't been working. You’re seriously concerned for her when she get’s challenged but Beidou gives you a way-to-hard slap on the back and cheers her on. If Ninngguang somehow get’s alcohol poisonings she’ll somehow find away to make a profit out of it.

"I'll let him die, I'll get the insurance money."

Kaeya

One day he chugged too much mouth wash, passed out, and somehow woke up in university majoring in law. His idea is that if he is apart of the law, he can therefore stand above it. To be fair, his only goal in life is to say “I am the manager” and he can go live the rest of his life in bliss or as a hermit. He’s secret best friends with you but wouldn't be caught dead beside you. He will stab a bitch if you ever get hurt but will still trip you on the way home. Seriously, you have no idea why people find him attractive. Your guess is it’s the eye patch or the clap of his ass cheeks that keeps alerting everyone.

He’s apart of the newspaper club and if anyone asks: No, he has no idea who keeps taking all the newspapers and burns them in the back of the campus. Originally, he joined because he was nosy and needed to join some type of club for his resume. He sometimes feels bad for his junior assistant Amber because he keeps tricking her and says that Diluc is secretly a demon that is trying to steal all the jobs and is apart of the lizard government hell bent on eradicating the human race. He even brought out a whiteboard for this joke, he’s dedicated to his job ok?

The type of guy to try and be humble and say his work is “okay” but will choke a bitch if anyone agrees. He tends to leave everything last minute and says that it’s his drug since actual drugs could land you one year in prison and a maximum penalty of $2,000. You have to awkwardly hold in your concerned mother head shake when you see him speed running his assignment literally right when the professor is walking around to check if students finished.

“I was taught how to lead not to read.”

Mona

Broke wallet #2. Zhongli is broke wallet #1 but Childe simps for him so is he really a broke wallet at this point? In this essay, I Mona Megistus, will explain why I have the rights to the title “Broke Wallet #1″...

Believes that astrology should be an actual career path but refuses to take astronomy as her major. I can read the stars not a textbook that tells me how to calculate the mass of the sun divided by the fucks I give. Instead she went into Philosophy and cries to Albedo, who is an actual prodigy genius- sir lend some braincells to everyone else please?, that her professor keep turning her paper down because “star reading” is not an academic source.

Fischl wants her to join the occult club because, surprisingly, Mona is very good at telling people’s fates through her crayon sketch ouija board. She thinks first year Fischl is cute but is put off by the cosplay roleplay that she has going on. She would join except that stupid hat wearing gremlin in her lit class would make fun of her if he found out.

You gave her half your lunch one day and bought her a doughnut "because she seemed upset" and "out of the goodness of your heart" whatever the hell that means. She thinks you pensioned it but once that thought comes she takes a bite. Poison from a doughnut is not the worst way to go out, classes are hard enough. She’s waiting for the lord to strike her down anyways.

“Its not about passing, its about doing better than everyone else.”

Venti

Slept through most of highschool and people question how he got into university. He’s a music major (wow how fucking original is that), and if anyone asks him to serenade someone or just do anything, he’ll do it for the right price. Or if you buy him alcohol because he still keeps getting ID checked. He’s banking on Kaeya actually becoming a lawyer or being on good terms with Diluc so he can finally stop being arrested for looking like a toddler.

Takes one step into classes and quickly nopes out and goes back to bed. Professors have no idea how he hasn't dropped out or failed. He just has some god given talent. He does whine at you to pretty pretty please with a cherry on top tutor him because you're such an angel and would never leave your poor but awesome best friend hanging right? He needs to get this essay down but how he is suppose to explain how the number 10 is symbolic and connects to the universe or the meaning of life. Do you think he can just say it’s apart of his culture and make up some random myth to pretend it looks like he knows what he’s doing?

He’s honestly going with the flow and put his brain on the back burner all of highschool and only now realizes wait, I actually have to use my brain?

He’s been banned from most club chats since Venti has the no chill card. Someone says “lol I look ugly today.” and he’ll respond "yup, you look like a cow." and he get’s banned. Zhongli keeps a speed run timer on his phone just to document these occasions.

"Sad spelled backwards is das and das how it be sometimes."

Childe

An actual dumbass that somehow does well. He eats sandwiches with the crust off, this heathen. Surprisingly he’s studying to become a physical therapist but most of his experience has come from breaking his own bones. You’re scared how he's going to be if he actually becomes a therapist. If he'll make bets with his patients or try to one up whatever crazy injury they get into. Everything is a challenge to him that sometimes the best way to deal with Childe is to knock him out.

This man really knows the way to a Zhongli’s woman's heart. Through micro transactions. Mona saw him accidently drop $20 and just shrugged and walked off. She has never been both spiritually and physically offended in her life. She did take the $20 though. As much as you hate leeching on Chile when he’s basically a walking wallet that probably uses bills as tissue paper, you can’t help but give him puppy eyes while planning on how to get into his will. If he even plans on having one, he might honestly write “whoever wins in a gladiator style duel in my funeral’s tournament, they will get my fortune.”.

Any sport the university offers Childe is probably in it. Which is how he met Zhongli, challenged him to a fight, proceeded to have his ass handed to him, got a backhanded compliment, and screamed to you he was in love and how he found his soulmate. He's secretly very sappy and has cried and watched every Disney and Pixar movie at least 28 times.

"IM NOT TOO SPICY! I’M A TINY BIT ABOVE MILD IF ANYTHING!”

---

God if it isn’t Scaramouche, it’s Childe that ruins the aesthetic. This is why I hate you. Why do you people enable me like this, it isn’t even good. This is pretty much a @ yourself moment and I vibe hard with Venti. This entire post was just to make a joke about the clap of Kaeya’s ass cheeks alerting the guards.

This week might slow down since I have classes and assignments. My reply’s are gonna be late too, sorry;; (oh and thank you to everyone that was so supportive and nice when I mentioned it. All of you. Beautiful 💕💕 )

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saturnsstufff · 4 years ago

Note

Hear me out, imainge Techno raiseing a little girl and she just brings home her first boy friend or something. Techno being Techno just reacts to this in a "hurt her and i'll kick your ass" kinda way.

This idea wont leave my head and I have no idea why.---

Also hope you have a great rest of the weekend!! :D

-🐼😐

Oh my god he would be the best/worst dad ever. Best because he would be so loving and supportive. But worst because he was so terrifying.

Also! Apologies before hand I got a little carried away (I love domestic dad techno, what can I say)

Athena- Technoblade

Warning: none, maybe protective dad Techno?

When you first had children Techno was pretty hesitant. He wasn't sure if the child would like him or despise him. He also wasn't sure if he would even be a decent father. Of course being his loving and supportive wife, you already knew Techno was utterly amazing with children. So when you announced you were pregnant, you swiftly eased Techno's nerves about fatherhood.

When your baby was born he cried, he was so over joyed at the sight of your little darling within his arms. Phil, having known the lengths and dangers of pregnancies, was glad that you had safely delivered a healthy baby girl. Almost a exact replica of you to be precise. With little ruby eyes she looked at you both with wonder. Quickly finding comfort with her Mother, Father and Uncle. Techno upon seeing her, knew she would grow to be strong. Whether she choose to be delicate as a flower, or as fierce as a warrior. He would be there to support his little girl. With that said, he only found one name, perfect enough to fit his little darling.

Athena.

Like her name foretold, she became a elegant warrior. From a young age she was driven to make her father forever proud. Of course he was naturally proud of her. But that didn't stop her from picking a bow, and sword up to challenge her father.

When she was a toddler, she found amusement and love for the little things. Athena and Steve had even become inseparable. Her father was gushing over the idea that his daughter had a love for large animals similarly to him.

Of course you were also close to her. She was your daughter, made of your flesh and blood. While Techno taught her everything about combat, you often shown her the gentle side of things.

Between You and Techno- and the rather occasional help from Phil- you guys had taught Athena to be fierce, yet gentle and loving. Something you were all very proud of.

As Athena aged she became rather beautiful, growing to look a lot more like Techno then you first had perceived. With her father's strong gaze and jawline she became a heartbreaker without even knowing it.

You and Techno both knew she was gentle and loving. But due to Technoblade being her father, many boys and women alike tended to shy away from her. Fearing of upsetting her or her father.

Techno felt bad at the idea of his daughter being alone. He knew what it was like to be shunned by most people. It wasn't something he wished his little girl to face.

You, having been the more positive person in the marriage, knew that it would just take time for her to find the right person. Sure enough, you were right.

Athena had found friendship with a hybrid Ender boy named Nathaniel. Although rather tall he was in fact timid. Athena waisted no time in telling you about her long adventures with Nathan by her side. Soon the name "Nathan" and “Nate” had become a house hold name for your family.

Of course you had met Nathan occasionally. Having seen him when you would walk with Athena to the nearby village. He was a kind and loving boy towards you, and all those he encountered. When he started bringing Athena flowers, you had more then a well known hunch of where it would lead to. As always, you were indeed right again.

One morning Athena was a bit restless in her seat at breakfast. While you fed your young toddler, you couldn't help but wonder if she was ok. You were the type of mom to let your children come to you with their issues on their own terms. Figuring to wait until they were comfortable with bringing things up, then being pushed to tell you. It worked with your sixteen year old daughter and your twelve year old son. So you planned to roll with that for your soon two year old son as well.

Soon enough she did budge. "Mom?" She asked softly. You turned to her, showing she had your full attention. She cleared her throat and poked at her egg a bit. "I invited Nathan over for today... I hope that's ok..." she asked a bit shy. Something was up, but you weren't about to pry.

"Of course that's ok Thena, he’s your friend" you smiled softly to her wanting her to feel at ease. Her brother narrowed his eyes a bit. You watched your son from the corner of your eye. He knew something. Your middle child took after Techno expression wise. The look he was currently giving his sister, was the same look Techno gave you when he knew you weren't telling the full story. With your youngest in front of you asking for more food, you slowly moved your attention away from the eldest children.

"Will dad be coming home today?" Your son asked curiously. You herd the bemusement lace his tone. You hummed and put a spoonful of oatmeal into the toddlers mouth.

"I believe so. Phil and Your Father said they wouldn't be long with the Mansion run" you said looking over to him. With your youngest now almost two Techno started up his usual runs again. When you had a baby in the house he was always hesitant to leave for too long. Of course you always told him you would be fine. Thankfully your children were well behaved and easy to keep track of- that is unless your oldest son felt the urge to annoy his sister of course.

It was about a little after noon before Techno and Phil had returned home. Your toddler was the first to see them from the window of course. Calling out "daddy" and insisting that you all go out to meet him. With no hesitation you scooped up your baby and wondered out with your kids. Athena was smiling brightly. But you could also tell she was on edge.

When Techno rode up to the house your toddler was thrashing for him. Only easing up when he was handed to Techno. Your husband had the largest smile as he took his son in his hands. Asking if he was missed. You gave Phil a warm welcoming smile. Hugging him when he dismounted from his horse.

While you stood by Phil talking about the trip, your youngest children were hugging there father when he came down. Happy to have him home once again.

Athena, although overjoyed that her dad was home. Found her attention drawn to the young Ender boy approaching from the tree line. The two hugged happily when he met up with her.

Techno had traded your toddler to Phil. Making room within his arms for you. With your body pressed up to his, you turned your head to give him a warm welcoming kiss. But instead paused to see Nathan and your daughter hugging. Techno, expecting a nice kiss started to pout. But he soon stopped when he saw a unfamiliar boy with his little girl.

You had previously met Nathaniel, however, Techno has not. He’s only herd about this boy. So he was a bit skeptical.

Athena didn't hesitate to bring Nathan over to your little family. With Techno and Phil in full armor, you felt a bit bad that shy Nathan had to meet them this way. Your sons stood with Phil, your youngest within his arms. You stood in front of Techno, your husband towering over you with only his hand on your shoulder.

"Who is this?" Techno asked, his eyebrow slightly raised in question. Athena smiled hesitantly. Nathan quietly looking Techno over.

"Dad... This is Nathaniel... That boy I always talk about" you smiled warmly at the boy. Saying it was nice to see him again. He gave you a shy, but warm smile in return. Techno's eyes lingered over Nathaniel. Almost summing him up. "Nate.. this is my Dad and Uncle..." she said pointing. Nathan stepped away from Athena's side. Slowly stepping up to you and Techno. With a hesitant arm he held his hand out to Techno for a handshake. When Techno shook Nathan's hand, the size difference was easy to spot. Where Techno had strong calloused hands, Nathans were limber, long, and soft. Easily one of his Enderman traits he possessed.

Techno didn't make direct eye contact. Having remembered when Ranboo stayed with you two years previously. Ranboo had off hand mentioned making eye contact was seen as a hostile move to Enderman.

"Its very nice to meet you finally, sir..." Nathan said rather quietly. Techno although on the fence. Didn't choose to try and be intimidating. Instead he kept his normal monotone voice.

"It's nice to meet you too"

Nathan ended up staying for dinner that night. Athena and Nathan mostly stuck together, but both were a bit nervous you could tell. But again you didn't push it.

After dinner Phil took the kids outside for a late night walk. Figuring he would leave you and Techno alone for a bit. Of course you weren't fully alone. Athena and Nathan stuck about. With the two sat together on the couch, Athena ended up falling asleep on Nathans shoulder.

Well you and Techno talked in the other room at the table, the last person you expected to see was Nathan. He quietly walked in and waited for you two to finish talking before he began. "I... I uhm, have something to ask you s-sir" Nathan began uncertain. You gave him a kind smile and motioned for him to sit.

When he sat he looked between you two. Mostly looking for reassurance from you so he could address Techno. Techno didn't push, he just calmly waited for the boy to speak. "A..Athena really cares about your opinion... And.. I... I know I want to do this right..." he was stumbling over his words. You could tell he was nervous. Quietly you just told him to take a deep breath. He nodded and did so. Waiting a moment before continuing. "W...with your permission as her Father... Could I please date your daughter?... S-she means the world to me... all I want is her happy..." Nathan was shying away from Techno. Almost expecting him to yell or something.

Techno watched a bit and thought on his words. Truthfully Techno was proud of this boy. Everyone was terrified to date his daughter, yet a shy Ender boy had purposefully stepped aside to ask him for permission. "I suppose I'll let you..." Techno said slowly. Nathaniel's shoulders visibly relaxed at Techno's words. Of course techno narrowed his eyes after, becoming serious "just know I was your age. If she ends up pregnant anytime soon, I'm coming for you" Techno meant it. Nathaniel went red and swallowed thickly before slowly nodding.

"Y-yes sir...."

#technoblade #technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #techno x reader #techno x you #fanfic #fanfiction #minecraft fanfiction #minecraft x you #dreamsmp x reader #tb

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fuck-goes-on · 4 years ago

Text

Honour

pairing/s: past din djarin x gn! reader because you’re dead

summary: din visits you after a long, long time and bringing grogu along to introduce him to you

warning/s: DECEASED READER (you’re dead, you’re gone, you’re nada), grief, mourning, angst, crying, big hurt but also big comfort, bittersweet, helmet removal, and you’re dead

note/s: somewhat a continuation and sequel to Creed!! this idea was on the whim, like i just thought WHAT IF- and now we’re here LOL this is uh third person omnipresent because i wanted to include what grogu was thinking and feeling KEK

masterlist

Why he came back, he didn't know. Or maybe he didn't want to know. Maybe he already knew but refused to acknowledge it.

As the Razor Crest descended from the sky and landed in a forest, there was a coo coming from behind him. He turned around to see Grogu tilting his head like he did whenever he was confused or questioning something. The kid was silently asking him why they were there with his big eyes, when his distress and upset was obvious.

Din sighed and stood up from the pilot's seat, reaching to carry Grogu up in his arms. His steps were heavier than usual with heart ache as they walked out of the ship. His ad'ika perked up and looked around in wonder, admiring the tall, green trees and the sunlight filtering through the leaves. It was beautiful to the child.

But not to Din.

Din brought him and his child back at the planet where he lost everything. The planet where he lost his life. The planet where he lost his soul. The planet where he lost his love. The planet where he lost his heart. The planet where he lost you.

Flashes of your smile went through his head each time he stepped on twigs and leaves. Flashes of those three fucking knives went through his head each time the light hit his eyes. Flashes of his arms holding your dead body went through his head as he slowly walked to your grave.

Grogu's ears drooped down as he felt his buir's hurt. He knew that his buir had dark memories on the pretty planet, knew that being there caused him to retreat into his self-loathing thoughts; He just didn't understand why. Why were they there? Why does his buir always put himself through pain and agony?

It all came to light as Din stopped in front of a mound of dirt covered in grass and wildflowers. Rocks stacked on rocks surrounded the mound and were weathered and aged with moss and cracks. Your name was still visible where it was carved into the largest rock at the top of the grave.

Din fell on his knees, clutching at Grogu so tightly that he squeaks loudly in surprise. His mind was racing with the days when you were the one who was beside him during his travels across the galaxy. When you were the one who made him smile so much the clan would think you were a sorcerer. When you were the one who soothed his nightmares and cries. When you were the one he took care of and the one who took care of him.

Not that he didn't love Grogu, maker above he loved his kid so much that he brought the womp rat with him to see you after so many years. Or, what he left of you.

Placing the kid down on the ground beside him, Din took a moment to just wallow in his hurt, to just let himself be overwhelmed with the negative emotions he pushed away and ignored ever since you passed. Back then, he would've surely lost his mind if he let your death suffocate him into his own demise, but now— Now he has his kid with him. His ad'ika that could have had another buir if you were still alive.

Grogu clawed at Din's cuisse, trying to get his attention as he climbed up on his lap. His buir didn't react, however, and that made him worried. He frantically scraped his claws on the shiny surface of buir's armour, the beskar strong enough that it didn't leave a single mark. When all he could feel was pain and heartbreak in the midst of emptiness, Grogu opened his mouth and wailed as loudly as he could.

Din snapped out of his spiralling thoughts and craddled Grogu back on his chest. His ad'ika whimpered sadly and scratched at his helmet, wanting to see his face. Removing his helmet was still a challenge to do, only having taken it off once and that was when— But he's slowly getting used to removing it for Grogu, for his clan of two.

As his buir bared his face for him to see, Grogu felt his usual smile of seeing his handsome father fall at the sight of his tears streaming down his cheeks. He raised his clawed hand to try and wipe the offending liquid away, and hopefully it would wipe away his buir's sadness too.

Din smiled weakly at his son's attempts at comforting him, at the touch of his son's hand. You would've loved him, he thinks to himself. You would've been a better parent than him, a hardened mandalorian bounty hunter, with your teasing and caring nature.

You would've.

Grogu complained out loud when he was placed down once more but quietened when Din looked at him. He pouted and fell on his butt, sitting with his back to his buir. A large, gloved hand rested on his head and stroked him lightly.

"Grogu..." Din said at last, smiling once more when his ad'ika swiveled his head towards him in response. Holding back his sniffles, he points to the rock that carried your name. "I'd like you to meet your other buir. My riduur."

The kid made a noise of confusion, turning to look at the mound and scrutinising it in his gaze. Blowing a raspberry, Grogu looked back at his buir unimpressed. He doesn't get it; How can he have another buir when he already has one?

"My ka'rta, my lover," The mandalorian gently explained, "They are clan even if they are gone." Din grimaced as his mind kindly reminded him of that fateful day you fell. He could see Grogu work it out in his little toddler brain, trying to understand what he said, if he could understand Din at all. But, soon, his son's eyes brightened and stared at the mound with a renewed light.

Din watched as Grogu shakily stood up on his little feet and walked closer to your grave. The womp rat tilted his head left and right, flexing his tiny hands before flopping face down on the ground. He sat up in concern for his child, almost picking the kid up to see if he was alright, but before he could, the kid wiggled his whole body vigorously. It didn't occur to him what Grogu was doing, and when it did, he almost goddamn broke down.

Grogu was hugging the mound of dirt, letting his face get buried in the patches of grass and wildflowers. His claws were flapping and hitting the ground like how he would hit Din when he's happy in his arms. He wiggled around for a moment until he found a comfortable place and curled up, cooing loudly.

The sight made Din crumble down and cry. Tears were uncontrollable as they cascaded down from his eyes. Feelings of happiness and sadness filled his whole being; Happy because Grogu accepted you as his buir so quickly after knowing who you were for a minute, but sad because you would never know his child— your child.

Laying down beside the grave, Din turned his body to face Grogu who was slowly drifting off into sleep. He wondered if his ad'ika could see his memories of you, if his ad'ika could somehow feel you. As he reached out to caress Grogu's back, it was almost easy to imagine you laying there on the grass with them, smiling brightly at both him and the kid and humming softly under your breath. It was almost easy to imagine you holding Grogu in your arms as you curled into Din's.

It was almost easy to imagine.

BONUS:

You murmured stories of your adventures with Din to the sleeping child on top of you, hovering your hands over his little body comfortingly. It surprised you when the child saw you, and more so when the child understood who you were. You turned your head to look at your husband, drinking in his aged but still handsome face. Reaching out to cradle his cheek in the palm of your hand, your soul hurting when you remembered you couldn't touch him.

You settled with just watching your lover fall asleep next to your son, next to you.

It was easy to imagine.

general taglist: @stillshelbs @pedroepascal @pedrocentric (oomf and kitty im tagging u because i want u to cry with me)

#HURTED #hshjfjg #thank you and youre welcome #no cap im crying #JSKSJFJDK #this made me go :-(((#din djarin #din djarin x reader #mando #mando x reader #grogu #the child #baby yoda #mandalorian #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters

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sslow-dancer · 4 years ago

Note

heyy may I request a family fluff modren au oneshots with jonathan joestar? ty!

A/N: Since you said family... I thought I’d add the rest of Jonathan’s (and Dio’s bleh) kids with George II AND Danny! :)

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

“Thank You For This.” (Jonathan Joestar x Reader)

Warnings: none!

Description: On the Saturday after the last day of school for your eldest boys, you invite the entire family to a picnic at the local park. Though you face some challenges before getting to that first…

NOTE: P/P/T stands for “preferred parent title.” This one-shot is gender-neutral, I want all to be comfortable! 💙

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

“Boyyys! Shoes. We’re leaving soon. We need to get a good spot to eat at the park so get ‘em on.” you call out from the kitchen.

It’s a Saturday afternoon, the sun is extra bright out in your beloved city of New York and summer is the season many students have waited for. Your sons just as excited.

George has just finished up his 8th year in middle school, Giorno’s 3rd in elementary and Donatello’s 2nd in elementary. Rikiel and Ungalo are yet to start. They’ll be going once the breezy fall/autumn season is back.

It takes a lot to take care of 5 boys in one household. Though luckily your job becomes a bit easier when your archaeologist husband, Jonathan Joestar, gets a few days off. And thus, you plan out family hang outs here and there. This time, spending a day at the park to celebrate your boys’ achievements.

You use a rolling pin to knead at the cookie dough on the counter. You had already baked up some double chocolate chip cookies but decided to make some sugar cookies as well as George, Girono and Donatello prefer them. The two youngest of the 5 having a sweeter tooth. And your husband of course not caring, the large man will eat everything his sons leave over.

You sigh as you don’t hear any noise from the top floor. You stop your kneading and go to wash your hands under the faucet. You dry them off on your apron and walk up the steps. Your ears are filled with loud noise and your eyes widen. You just walked into a chaotic scene.

There in the room in full view from the stairs lays a sleeping Donatello under a large pile of blankets. Giorno is in the bathroom brushing his teeth while Jonathan attempts to fix his messy hair. George’s door is closed and loud with the sound of video games inside. And the sight that has confused you the most- a naked Ungalo getting chased around by a Rikiel in pull ups with a towel. Danny barks behind the toddlers, Ungalo giggles as Danny reaches his side.

“Hey, what-“

You’re cut off when George exits his room and brushes past you with his face glued to his phone. You question your oldest as he approaches the stairs, texting god knows who.

“George, what the hell happened-“

“Don’t ask me. Dad only told me to get ready and I did that.” George replies in a blunt tone. He puts his phone in his pocket and pats the side of his leg, he mouthes a “come on” to Danny. The dog runs over and heaves happily as George pats his head. They both rush down to the first floor.

You place your hands on your hips and huff in disbelief. The youngest run past you, your face scrunching up as you grumble lowly. You manage to catch Ungalo by grabbing him by the shoulders and picking him up by the waist. You grab the towel from a dazed Rikiel and wrap it around your naked son. Ungalo wraps his little legs and arms around you as you direct Rikiel to go to his room and wait for you. The 3 year old pouts as he pads his way down. You sigh shaking your head as you approach Donatello’s room and knock on his opened door multiple times.

“Come on! Wake up, wake up. I told you to get enough sleep last night. And get those blankets off of you, you’ll overheat.” you exclaim aggressively. Your middle child groans, his arm reaches out as if there’s an alarm clock next to him. Ungalo giggles as he pulls at your apron and points over at a now ready Giorno walking down to join his older brother. ‘At least 2 of the 5 are ready’ you think ‘and the dog…” you add on humorously.

Half of your husband’s stature appears from outside the bathroom. He dries his hands with a small towel and walks out. He closes the door and looks at you. You lift an eyebrow.

“Jonathan…” you mutter frustratedly. A clueless Jonathan looks up.

“Yes, my love?”

You point at the naked boy in your arms, the boy sleeping under piles of blankets and the half-naked boy sitting on the bed carelessly swinging his feet. You place a hand on your hip.

“What is the meaning behind all this? Our youngest are practically naked-“ you lock eyes with Ungalo, you sigh “well…one is naked. And one is still asleep. Only 2 are ready! What’s going on? I thought you were good at controlling them while I’m busy…”

Jonathan laughs soundlessly, taking Ungalo from your arms and placing a kiss on your forehead. You groan.

“It’s no time to be lovey dovey here… I’m yet to prepare the sandwiches for everyone.”

“And I’m not trying to be, it’s just who I am. I want you to be calm. Let me explain.” he says with a sweet voice. You frown as you cross your arms and look down at your feet.

He walks over to Ungalo’s and Rikiel’s shared bedroom. He places Ungalo on the bed as he goes into their closet and picks out outfits for them. You stand at the doorway and watch him get your sons dressed.

“I was going to dress these boys first but Giorno told me he wanted to try a new hairstyle as he’s grown it out and plans to dye it blonde. So I helped him out with that. Donatello had already gotten up-“ he laughs a little, your mind wondering how he’s able to keep so positive as you’re worried that you won’t get the best spot at the park. “But he somehow fell asleep again after he played with Ungalo and Rikiel. He actually helped me shower them too so he must’ve fallen asleep before he dressed them fully.”

Ungalo happily runs out with his shoes in hand, telling his father that he can tie them himself. Jonathan nods in response and finishes tying Rikiel’s shoes. Rikiel giggles following after Ungalo. He smiles lovingly, you blink, a blank expression on your face. Your gaze going from Donatello finally standing up to get ready and back to him innocently smiling. You exhale through your nose.

“Okay, I believe you. Your story sounds- fine. But I’m still confused as to why you didn’t do anything about the boys and Danny chasing each other.” you ask with genuine uncertainty. Jonathan shakes his head.

“Well, that one’s on me. Which I apologize for. Even though I asked Donatello to dress them, I don’t blame him. All I did was tell them to go to their room while I helped Giorno. In truth, I feel Girono could’ve done everything himself but I wanted to bond with each of our sons before I go to work again. George and I even spoke before you were awake. I come home late often and don’t get to see all unless one or more of them are awake.” he places a hand over his heart “I swear an event like this will never happen again. Please do not stress, you know I don’t like seeing you that way.”

You hum, uncrossing your arms as you think. Well he only is one person, what do you expect? Your boys just got done with school too, they must be tired and desiring to sleep in most days.

Jonathan nears you and wraps his arms around your waist, he pecks the side of your mouth. You hum again, embarrassed at how angry you got. He knows you well, so he goes on to say,

“Don’t be embarrassed. You deal with them more than me. So it’s understandable that you got upset. Go downstairs and finish up. I’ll deal with Donatello, okay?” he caresses your cheek, his touch always soothes you. You hesitantly remove his hand and nod. You go down and become content when all your boys offer to help.

~Time Skip~

An hour later, you all arrive at the park. Lucky for you, a grassy area near a playground is open.

Jonathan lays out a large blanket for you all to sit on. You set down the two baskets of food and goodies and let your family get comfortable in their own seats.

“I call the PBJ!” Giorno calls out. Ungalo pouts and crosses his arm, he nudges at your sleeve.

“But I want that…” he says sadly. You laugh, searching through one of the baskets.

“Oh honey, don’t worry. I’m sure we have one more…”

You give him one and smile when he hugs your side. All the others ask of you and Jonathan for things and activities as the day goes on.

“Dad, can I go for a quick walk around the park?” George asks.

“P/P/T, may I have a cookie?” Rikiel asks shyly.

“Can I go play fetch with Danny? I’ll stay near, I promise.” Donatello asks.

“I want to look at the garden- can we go after they’re done playing?” Giorno asks as he points at Ungalo and Rikiel playing tag with the other kids at the playground.

You and Jonathan never said no to their questions. You love and trust them with all your being- them going against you is low in chances.

You collect your belongings and go to the garden Giorno asked to go to. You hold a basket in front of you as you watch Giorno educate his brothers about the different plants and insects. Your heart melts as George picks up Rikiel and Donatello pick ups Ungalo to help them inspect the taller plants.

Jonathan removes the basket from your hands and places them in front of you both. You look at him confused. He smiles as he takes your hand and kisses the back of it.

“Thank you for this.” he whispers. You rolls your eyes playfully as you mindlessly ask,

“For what?”

“For giving me a family… I wouldn’t ask for anything in this world aside from pure happiness for you and our boys. You all keep me going and I appreciate you the most for that.”

You’re a blushing mess as he leans in and kisses you. You kiss back, true love can be seen by outsiders. You locks arms with him and place your head on his shoulder.

You and your husband resume to watching your sons bond and blossom.

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90sbokuto · 4 years ago

Text

— “ heather ”

including: bakugo, deku, kirishima, todoroki

genre: extreme fluff , songfic , one shot

tags: fluff, magic, one shot, songfic, headcanon

warnings: season 4 spoilers and probably language

request: “This isn't a really well thought out headcanon scenario but bnha headcanons with bakugo, deku, kirishima, and todoroki where they have a S/O with a magical girl quirk or something with those four going through a magical girl transformation and their reactions to their outfits and powers?? (magical girl outfits are basically their hero costumes but frilly,,,and the powers are just their quirks but more magical-) please and thank you! 💖🧡💚❤️🤍✨✨✨”

a/n: ngl, i’ve been holding off on writing about this one since i had a really cute idea for it, with the lyrics to “heather” by conan grey! thank you for being so patient with this! I really enjoyed writing this prompt!!! there are going to be season 4 spoilers also just in case you haven't watched it!

— bakugo katsuki

he adored you. sure he’d never tell you, he’s not a simp. you were his princess. you were powerful and in fact, you were the reason he met his match. he’d never seen you in your hero costume though and when he reflected upon it, he hadn’t see you use your quirk either. when the UA school festival came around, he was going to ask if you wanted to hear him practice but it seemed like you were nowhere to be found.

“where the hell is she?” he wondered, before the show started. he didn’t see your face in the crowd. he wasn’t just mad, just irritated. being late wasn’t really in character for you. you were rushing to do your hair backstage and as everyone fell on cue and he began playing the drums, you peeked out from the other side of the stage. he wouldn’t notice you though, as he was too busy focused on the beat.

you’d have to leave right before the end since you were nervous about him seeing you all dolled up, but you couldn’t help but admire his concentration. the peace that came about his face as he played, the way he seemed to be enjoying himself.

the song quickly came to an end and as they made their way backstage he checked his phone. “any of you dumbasses seen y/n?” bakugo’s voice rumbled. “no.. isn’t she doing the pageant?” kaminari mentioned.

bakugo thought he was spewing nonsense, but nevertheless he’d have to pass that way to get snacks, so he went. neijire was almost done and before you knew it, it was time for you to go out. “y/f/n, y/l/n! the girl you can’t help but fall for!” the announcer said.

the way bakugo turned his head so quick.

and sure enough it was you, using your quirk to create snow around you, as your blue dress trailed around you. it had frills at the top and the bottom flowed with the wind.

he was astonished. it was you. the girl he fell in love with when you first challenged him, looking like an angel in front of his eyes.

— izuku midoriya

he was beyond grateful to have you in his life. when i say beyond grateful, he thanked the universe for even letting him coexist at the same time as you. you were warm and loving, yet so tough and it shook him to his core.

so of course, he was at a loss when you didn’t want him to see you in your hero costume after the alterations were made. “you look beautiful no matter what, y/n!!” he cheered from outside your room. “I promise! it can’t be that bad!” he said, when in reality, it wasn’t that.

you just weren’t used to it. you stood in shock with yourself in front of the mirror. you looked like a princess, and after your internship with Mt. Lady, she had one of her designers work on your costume.

deku was still praising the way you would look in your costume from outside until you finally swung the door open.

his mouth dropped.

“oh, I forgot about this...” you sighed, taking your hair from out the scrunchie. it fell softly down to your shoulders and he almost fainted. your quirk fit the color of the dress perfectly, since you could make glitter rain down like hail. the sequins of the dress matched the silver of the glitter you could create

“y/n..” he began, and you blushed a bit. “what? I know, I know it’s a lot..” you said shyly, beginning to put your hair back into a bun.

“no!! it's perfect! you look perfect!” he said, practically stumbling over his words.

“you look magical!!” he said, awestruck. tears filled your eyes as he fawned over how the dress fit your personality and your quirk.

you were like a fairy. kind and goodhearted, mischievous and mythical. he was at a loss of words, the same way he felt after your first kiss.

— eijiro kirishima

you made his world light up. seeing how you came in the room made him feel something, nervousness and excitement. it never went away, even after you started dating, you still made him feel nervous and thrilled. your humor, your smile, your genuineness, he loved it all.

kiri had tried on his costume first to make sure he wouldn’t tear through it while using his quirk and as you watched, you couldn’t help but wonder what your was going to look like. you had just carried the bag around all day and assumed the costume looked the same as what you’d drawn out and asked for.

you knew you had to try it on soon though, your internship with fatgum started in a few days and that’d barely be enough time if you ended up needing alterations.

“hey? how’d your costume come out?” he stopped to ask, watching you go from enthused to deeply in thought.

“oh! fine, I was just wondering when I should actually try it on..” you said, grabbing the bag from behind you.

“well we have time now if you want!” he gushed, watching as you began to get up.

“yeah, I really probably should..” you chuckled, closing your door.

as you opened the bag, you noticed that your costume was what you wanted, you just didn’t expect it to really look so beautiful. the skirt was nice and poofy and the upper portion of the dress had frilly straps. it was perfect.

using your quirk was a plus, since it made the dress shimmer. your quirk was primarily based around light and vision and the dress, the damn dress, worked so well!

as you walked out of your room, there sat kirishima and he looked stunned. “I-i..” he stopped and tried to gather his words again. “y/n.. I love it..” he said, looking as you twirled so he could get a better look at the skirt. “you’re so beautiful..” he said, getting up to give you a hug and a kiss. “wait no! look!” you said, excitedly. as you used your quirk, the dress began to shimmer and you’d seen a reaction from him that you’d never seen before.

his hands trembled as he pulled you close to him. “how’d I get so lucky..” he murmured after kissing your forehead.

throughout the rest of the day, he couldn’t get the sight of you excitedly using your quirk in your costume all day. the excitement, your radiant smile, it just reminded him of the first time you fell asleep on each other 🥺

— shouto todoroki

he knew from your first interactions that you weren’t gonna be one to be pushed away. you made him smile and you guys friends would be left wondering “wtf?? how’d you make him laugh????”even though people may have seen him as stoic, you never did. and your interest made him love you so much more. you were everything he admired in a girlfriend.

homie felt like he got the whole package

and really, he did..

you were normally very talkative, so when everyone got their hero suits, he quickly noticed how silent you were. it just didn’t feel right.

“y/n?” he turned to you and asked, while everyone rambled about how their suits came out. “hmm?” you asked, not quite meeting his gaze in return.

it was beautiful, your costume..and it just reminded you of your dreams of becoming a hero. they were really coming true. you’d been dreaming of it since you were a toddler and now you were a hero in training with a suit and a hell of a quirk. you were a late bloomer and had gotten your quirk just months before the entrance exam but worked day and night to get in. that work paid off.

“Is there something wrong with your suit?” he asked, pondering over why you could be this quiet.

"no it’s amazing..” you said, feeling tears well in your eyes.

he was conflicted now, watching the tears well but you were smiling. “if you’d like, we’re allowed to try them on right now..” he said softly, trying to examine the situation at hand. lost in your thoughts, you forgot that’s what you were supposed to be doing and quickly grabbed your bag, hitting your desk while getting up.

the dress was lacy at the top and the straps made the whole look come together. you were so excited to put it on and as you walked back in, uraraka and mina were the first to tell you how pretty it looked.

shoto looked up from his phone and his reaction turned from nonchalance to disbelief. you looked like a princess??

as you came back to your seat, he couldn’t help but smile to himself again. “you look beautiful.” he said, his tone laced with affection.

“thank you..” you said accidentally using your quirk which made the sequins on the dress change color

needless to say, he loved seeing your hero costume..

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stxvercgersslut · 4 years ago

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One of the good ones

Description: you always had a bad experience with Christmas in the past due to your bad home life. But your boyfriend, Steve Rogers, and his 4 year old daughter, Lilah, are determined to give you the best Christmas ever.

Warnings: extreme fluff like there is way too much fluff in this one fic and it wasn’t even supposed to this long! mentions of bad family experiences.

Prompts: Gif is a prompt too,

“you’re skipping Christmas? Isn’t that against the Law?” (Christmas with the Kranks)

A/n: yeah I’m late to the party but @chrissquares is just too damn amazing for me not to at least write one fic for this challenge!

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“No you have to be kidding!” Your boyfriend of almost 1 year spoke, totally and utterly shocked from your declaration just a few seconds ago. Mouth wide in shock horror causing the little 4 year old Sarah, named after Steve’s loving mother who had tragically passed away during the 40′s, to giggle slightly at how hysterically ridiculous her daddy looked right now.

You, on the other hand, weren’t as amused at the toddler. In fact, you were bored of the conversation already and the love of your life had only brought it up a couple seconds ago to make conversation. But then again you could just have been in a god awful bad mood like you always were this close to Christmas. “You heard me Steve...I’m not repeating it again. Please just drop it?” you pretty much begged at this point which seemed to cause Sarah to giggle a tad bit more since she seemed to find this entire scene quite amusing. Especially with how ridiculous the whole situation was.

But Steve didn’t want to end the conversation just yet. No he was determined to get to the bottom of this. “Nu uh baby girl. You don’t just get to blurt out that you’re skipping Christmas altogether and not explain why” he declared, a much sterner look on his face.

However, those words seemed to pluck Sarah’s attention away from her pretend tea party on the floor and landing her straight into the current conversation. She couldn’t seem to help herself. Especially after what she had just heard.

“What!” The four year old announced in the cutest little voice that Steve had ever heard in his life, causing the super soldier to crack a smile. Meanwhile your expression still stayed static. “you’re skipping Christmas? Isn’t that against the Law?” The toddler added to her previous shock.

You really weren’t expecting that. Especially not from a toddler as young as Sarah was. Yet you still managed to prepare yourself to answer her question. “It’s not against the law. It’s perfectly acceptable to just ignore Christmas all together” oh you should have known Sarah wouldn’t have accepted that answer.

“Why would you want to skip Christmas...” now she looked offended. No, offended wasn’t the word, she was totally and utterly shocked that someone would actually hate a holiday that she assumed everyone loved due to the magical experience. All kids loved Christmas so why didn’t you? That wasn’t something you truly didn’t want to disclose.

“Because” you answered, not having the energy to come up with anything too interesting that would actually put the situation to bed without any more questions. But if you’d believed that Sarah would just leave it at that then you were painfully mistaken.

“Because what?” She answered with her beautiful blue eyes sparkling in the sun light shining from the window with how wide her little eyes were. You really had started a war now.

However, finally your boyfriend decided to actually interject, seeing the way you cringed in thought “Sarah come on she doesn’t wanna answer baby” the super soldier explained, walking closer to you and wrapping his arms loosely around your waist to let you know that he was there. Just because he was trying to help ease the situation with his daughter didn’t mean he’d let this go. Oh no.

"Because isn't an answer!" And there it was, the delicate child had began to press you for answers that you truly didn’t want to expose.

Quickly you sat down on the floor with your step daughter, taking her little hand in yours before digging around in your brain for a answer that you could give to her. “Sarah.....it’s hard to explain baby...I don’t really think that this is a discussion that you really need to be a part of okay?....” you eased, placing a hand on her shoulder as a peace offering to which she seemed to take and just wander even closer to you, pretty much tugging you into a mighty tight hug. For a 4 year old she was extremely strong. Mostly due to the super soldier serum already running through her veins.

After the hug Sarah pulled away, showing her shiny white baby teeth to you before giggling away to herself when she turned around to play with her toys again. Finally you had managed to stop the toddler from pressing for answers.

Steve, on the other hand, was not going to allow this to happen. You were the love of his life, the one that swooped into his life during a time where he had believed true love would never find him. You'd change his life for good and most importantly you were the very first women that he'd allowed into his daughters life. No way was he going to let you skip the lost wonderful time of the year. "And what do you plan on doing on Christmas Day if you're skipping Christmas then huh?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows which successfully made you laugh due to his stubbornness.

"Well...." you began, scratching your head in thought as you struggled for an answer. It was the easiest of things to answer since you barely did anything. "I'll probably watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S for the hundredth time and finish off a bottle of wine." You admitted, guessing truth would probably be the your one true option.

But the look on Steve's face told you otherwise. Maybe you should have just lied instead of telling the truth. Then at least you would have spared yourself the humiliation of telling the one man you loved more then anything about your plans for Christmas.

Steve laughed, he fucking laughed at you. Not in a rude way (you hoped) but in a way that showed just how shocked and confused he was at you antics. How could someone like you not want to celebrate Christmas? That had to be against the law right? Just like Sarah had said, no one should skip Christmas. “Baby! You really think I’m gonna let you just be alone for Christmas?” he spoke, voice stern as if he was speaking to one of his team mates and not you his literal girlfriend. Clearly Steve wasn’t ever going to let you just be miserable, especially when it was Christmas that was hanging in the balance. No he’d be damned if he was going to let any of what you had planned out for your Christmas alone.

“Well I kinda wasn’t going to ask for permission.” You interjected, knowing that this was an argument waiting to happen but you didn’t really care at this point. All you really wanted was for this conversation to be over and for Steve to completely forget about everything that you had said. not that that was ever actually going to happen now. Of course that wasn’t going to happen.

Steve was silent for a few seconds as he crossed his arms in a slight huff, of course catching the eye of the small toddler who instantly repeated the same gesture in which her father had just done. that in itself was the most adorable thing in the world.

“Well you don’t need to ask permission I guess...but its still not right! I’m not letting it happen.” He spoke, once again using his stern Captain America voice. Which seemed to provoke a little giggle from Sarah before she once again repeated Steve’s exact words in her beautiful little childish voice. Although you really wanted to reply to his comment, right now you couldn’t. It was Sarah’s moment to interject so right now you allowed this to happen. Now that in itself had enough power to cause Steve to finally break his stern facade, letting out a joyful chuckle before turning to his little girl deciding to test how far Sarah’s little game would go.

After a couple seconds Steve placed his hands on his hips he grinned childishly. Sarah once again repeated the action in her little childish ways. So in retaliation Steve placed his middle finger against his nose, Sarah repeated once again. Oh this game really was causing you to burst out into a fit of giggles. It was almost as if she had sensed the tension in the air and just wanted to put an end to it. Which the little girl had done effortlessly. Things like this really did seem to make you realise how lucky you were to be a part of Steve’s life. You just really hoped to god that Steve would never get bored of you.

You had no idea how on earth any of this had happened, but after a few more minuets Steve had began to dance around with Sarah. Wiggling his body around like one of those inflatable balloons that danced around when the wind blew them just right. At that point you just couldn’t hold back the laughter that was erupting inside of you, causing your stomach to ache with how much you were laughing. Now you really had forgotten about the conversation that had once been important to Steve. Little did you know that Steve hadn’t forgotten, in fact it was still quite important to him.

______________________________________________________________

It had been a good couple of house later that Steve had finally managed to once again pluck up the courage to finally speak to you. He needed to make this Christmas one that you would never forget. If he didn’t then he would have failed, something he desperately didn’t want to happen. Especially when you were apart of his life. Clearly he loved you too much to let you deal with another Christmas alone, even if that was actually what you wanted to do. He’d be damned if he was going to let that happen.

After putting Sarah in her bed to nap, Steve slowly walked over to where you were sitting in Steve’s bedroom, a room he so longed to share with you. Maybe one day he would. Taking his time as he attempted to figure out exactly what he was going to say. Although he did have a small inkling as to what he wanted.

“Y/n.....baby.....I know it was hours ago since we spoke about your Christmas plans...but I think we need to continue that conversation.” He began, voice low as he attempted to kee the conversation quiet as to not wake Sarah.

This took you by surprise, your head shooting up from your phone screen to look him directly in the eyes. This time his eyes were less stern. No instead his beautiful blue eyes were softly looking at you as if you were the most angelic creature that he had ever encountered in his 100 years of living. And in his eyes you truly were.

“Steve....just drop it please....I just want to forget about Christmas this year like every year” you replied hoping he’d understand. Yet he didn’t.

“No baby....I’m not going to drop this!” His voice raising ever so slightly as he began to voice his opinion.

“Why? Why won’t you drop this? It’s one subject I don’t want to talk about!” You yelled back, although your voice still wasn’t too loud since you had to make sure you wouldn’t disturbe the sleeping toddler in the other room.

Your raised voice had seemed to throw Steve ever so slightly, confusing him. “Because this is important to me y/n! You’re important to me! And I’m not going to let you be sad and alone on Christmas Day! It’s just not happening” now he wasn’t asking. He was being assertive. Which wasn’t exactly the greatest thing in the world but what could you do about it? Clearly Steve wasn’t going to let go so you couldn’t either.

“I’m alone every other Christmas so why does this year have to be any different?” You challenged knowing Steve wouldn’t like that one bit. But the again you were most certainly past caring at this point.

Once again Steve was taken aback by your words. “You didn’t have me and Sarah back then! Now it’s different you don’t have to be alone on Christmas or any other day because you’ve got me! And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you be alone when you have two people in your life that love you more then anything in the whole world!”

He hadn’t heard it at first, hadn’t heard those words escape his lips until he saw your face drop. That stern look leaving your features and instead gracing your face with a much brighter smile that he had so desperately missed. That was when he’d realised that the words he’d tried so desperately to keep in until the time was right had now escaped his lips. To say he was terrified was an understatement. What scared you more was how worried he looked now.

“Y......you love me....” you asked with wide eyes, a smile gracing your features. The sound of those words really did seem to shock you. “Y.....You love me?” You repeated trying to get his attention.

Finally you had, that worried expression on his face still continuing to get wider as he tried to figure out if you would run or stay. Clearly terrified that he’d lose you because of what he had just said.

“Of course I love you y/n, I love you so much more then you will ever know. I know I should have never kept this from you for so long. I should have told you How I felt the second that I started to feel that way....” he explained hoping you’d understand as much as physically possible. That’s all he wanted.

“Why didn’t you?” You inquired.

“Because I was terrified of what you’d say...” he admitted, showing you the side of him he was too afraid to show.

“You shouldn’t have had to be scared. I love you too Steve....I love you so so much”

This Christmas was going to be the best Christmas you had ever experienced.

Tag list: @chuckbass-love @harrysthiccthighss @jtargaryen18 @et-lesailes @cevans-fics @amythedvdhoarder @drabblewithfrannybarnes @pumpkin-and-pine @starlightcrystalline

#merryhoemas #chris evans #chris evans cute #chris evans hot #daddy! chris evans #chris evans and dodger #his laugh though 🥺#chris evans sexy #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans characters #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers sexy #steve rogers

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candycityy · 3 years ago

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RIVETRA AND 51.

Note: Hey anon! I already did 51, you can check it out here <3 But in the similar spirit of husband!levi, I did 63 instead ("Can you just man up and change his diaper?"). I hope you enjoy it still!

(You can also read this on AO3!)

Petra Ral, without a doubt, is the person he trusts most on the planet. From subordinate, to comrade, to lover, and finally, wife, she has always demonstrated nothing more or less than an unerring sense of judgment.

This trait, of course, is what made her the most reliable person on his squad back in the day, and what allows him to entrust his life—and the life of his daughter—to her.

But. Still.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Levi asks, for the fourth time that night. His wife doesn't even bother with an exasperated glare this time, just idly turns the page of her book. "And why won't you tell me who you got to babysit? I swear, Petra, if it's Hanji—"

"It's not Hanji, relax," she says lightly, tucking a neatly curled lock of hair behind her ear. "And yes, I'm sure. We haven't had a date night in ages. I think I've forgotten what it's like to actually do an activity that doesn't involve crayons or nursery rhymes."

"But if you'd just tell me—"

"No, Levi." She stands up and smooths down the fabric of her dress—a silky, knee-length sheath the colour of honey. He's seen her in it before, but it still makes his breath catch in his throat; although, to be fair, it's been a while since he'd seen her in something other than a t-shirt and sweatpants.

She glances at the clock, and then at the cot, where Ava is still dozing peacefully—for now, anyway. "They should be here any second."

"They?" he's about to say, when two hesitant knocks come at the door. He starts to get up, but Petra shoots him a warning look and sweeps towards the door. He sits back down.

"Boys, thank you so much for agreeing to babysit today." Petra beams down at their guests, her voice like melted sugar. "Come in." Levi glances up just in time to see...of all people, Eren Jaeger and Jean Kirschtein, wearing twin expressions of wariness.

Oh fuck no.

The words are out of his mouth before he can stop himself. "Petra, you're not serious. Jaeger and Kirschtein? You might at least have tried for one of the girls."

"Mikasa wouldn't come," Eren says helpfully, and then blushes, looking a bit awkward. "She has...uh, a bit of a grudge against the captain still, I think."

"Historia was busy, and I don't think you'd want Sasha anyway, sir." Jean, who's crisply attired in his military wear for whatever reason, looks mildly offended at Levi's brusque comment.

Levi tries to be polite.

"It's nothing personal. It's just that the pair of you don't have any experience with infants," he says, attempting to rearrange his features into that calm, reassuring expression Erwin makes whenever he's faced with agitated civilians.

Judging by their faces, he's still pretty far off the mark.

"Actually," Petra intervenes, "they do. Well, Eren does." She shoots him another warm, cinnamon-sweet smile, and he blushes again. "He said he used to babysit the neighbour's toddler with Mikasa. And Jean...well, it was between him and Connie." When the teenager chafes at the comparison, she adds hastily, "and he's always been perfectly responsible and conscientious, hasn't he?"

"We can handle one infant, sir," Eren pipes up. His face is a picture of anxious enthusiasm, reminding Levi sharply and uncomfortably of a particularly eager-to-please puppy.

"I mean, we kill Titans with no problem, and they're a heck lot more troublesome than a baby, I would think," Jean adds, casting a skeptical look over at the still-silent cot.

"You would think," Levi mutters darkly, and is about to put his foot down, no, absolutely, not, when Petra firmly loops her arm through his and begins to steer him towards the exit.

"See? Everything's fine. We'll see you in a couple of hours, boys! Thanks for doing this again!" she chirps, and frog-marches him out of the door.

"Bye, captain! Bye, Ms. Petra!" Eren calls cheerfully, waving. Levi turns (with some difficulty, considering his wife's very firm grip) to glare at him.

"She's a Mrs. now, you brat," he manages to snarl before the door slams shuts in his face.

Despite everything, they have a nice date.

It takes about four glasses of wine and a threat of bodily harm from Petra before he finally stops fretting about Ava—but, truth be told, the rest of the night goes as well as it possibly could have, considering.

"See, didn't you have fun?" Petra teases. There's a blush high in her cheeks from the cold and the wine, and with his thick coat wrapped around her slight figure, Levi figures she looks pretty damn adorable.

He grunts in reluctant assent, feeling unusually relaxed. It's been a long time since it was just the two of them, after all, and he's almost forgotten what it feels like without the constant stress of being responsible for a very small, very fragile human being who he loves with such fierceness that sometimes he feels as though his chest will burst.

He's still revelling in the niceness of it all—the cool night air, Petra's small hand in his—as they walk up to the door of their house. He's seriously contemplating if he should actually get Jaeger and Kirschtein something nice for their trouble—maybe a day off or something, he doesn't know—when he hears a sound that makes him freeze in his tracks.

Next to him, Petra stiffens. The sound fades momentarily, only to re-emerge with a vengeance, and there's no mistaking it: it's a scream.

Levi doesn't remember sprinting to the door and wrenching it open, his heart pumping so fast he can barely breath and Petra hot in his wake, but he supposes he does at some point because in a matter of seconds he's in the house, staring straight into the face of absolute chaos.

The living room is littered with toys and scattered pillows and, for some reason, a lone shoe. The stove is smouldering in a vaguely menacing manner, heavy smoke rising from the burnt remains of something completely unrecognisable. Meanwhile, their beloved daughter crawls quite cheerfully across the floor, beelining for Jean, who's slowly inching away on the ground, his face screwed up with equal parts terror and disgust. A familiar stink wafts through the room, and Levi instinctively wrinkles his nose.

And the perpetrator of the scream: Eren Jaeger, who's hunched over the basin, scrabbling blindly at the trickle of water from the tap, feverishly attempting to wash what appears to be spit-up out of his eyes.

Clearly, none of them have yet noticed their arrival.

"HORSE FACE, CAN YOU JUST MAN UP AND CHANGE HER DIAPER?" he shrieks across the room, his voice coming out noticeably higher than usual.

"WHY CAN'T YOU DO IT?" his comrade yells back, his eyes not moving from the effervescent infant, who giggles at the sound of all the shouting.

Behind him, Petra stifles a laugh.

"BECAUSE THANKS TO YOUR SHITTY BURP TECHNIQUE, I'M NOW BLIND, YOU—" The teenager proceeds to cuss him out quite colourfully, and Levi chooses that moment to intervene.

"What," he goes, lowly, "in the living fuck do you think you're doing?"

The effect is instantaneous, like the firing of a gun. Both boys instantly scramble to their feet and thump their fists to their chests in salute (Eren still blinking furiously).

Petra just giggles and strides across the hall to Ava, who's now babbling happily at the arrival of her parents. "Thanks for babysitting, boys," she goes, taking a cautious whiff of the baby's diapers and reeling at the smell. "Whew. I'll take care of this. Levi, be nice," she warns, before hoisting their daughter onto her hip and strolling away.

He can't help but notice there's a little amused bounce in her step, and his glower darkens.

"Captain—" Eren begins, but Levi lifts up a hand.

"I don't even wanna hear it," he barks. "You—for fuck's sake, go wash your face in the bathroom, the water flow is better there. And you..." he rounds on Jean, who gulps nervously. "You're dismissed. Just...go. Bye."

The boys slump over, looking at him with the big sad puppy eyes (although the effect of Eren's is somewhat diminished by his pained squint). And maybe it's the wine, maybe age or marriage or parenthood has made him soft, but he adds, with utmost reluctance, "Wait. Uh...thanks." He clears his throat. "Take a day off next week. If you want."

It takes a while for them to realise that it isn't a trap of some sorts (seriously, he doesn't get it; why do cadets always think the worst of him?), but eventually, he manages to shoo them off with wide eyes and thank-yous and maybe some mild trauma on Jean's part, but hey, this is the Survey Corps, after all. When he goes back to their bedroom, he finds Petra waiting for him, Ava sleeping peacefully in her arms, a mischievous, smug grin on her face.

"Don't even say it," he snaps.

Drabble challenge!

#keep the prompts coming!!#rivetra #levi x petra #attack on titan #levi ackerman #petra ral #aot fanfiction #candycity writes

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littlewetbeast · 3 years ago

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hi! i love your tumblr fics/writing in general… sending you so much love and appreciation! if you’re taking requests and if the mood takes you… do you think you could write something about dean’s lack of hunger? i’m obsessed with it as a concept, it’s fascinating! i don’t think we talk about it enough :( happy 4th july!

Note: timeline is a bit muddy - set roughly in kripke & gamble era, s4-s7. Warning: very vaguely NSFW, depressive and suicidal feelings Word count: 2k

It’s always the little things that end up getting to him, in the end. The server glances at his unfinished plate of food, and with a tilt of her head says, “Not to your liking, honey?” He stills. A tight sensation coils in his stomach. “I’m good,” Dean says, flashing her a smile, willing every muscle to relax. “Just had a big lunch.” He pats his stomach for show. She nods, leaving it at that, and brings him his bill. Dean reminds himself that there is no need to check around the diner to see if anyone heard it. He rubs his greasy fingers on the napkin and downs the rest of his beer, leaving an extra large tip with the odd hope that it will, somehow, quell the unease deep in his gut. It doesn’t. Then again, nothing ever does.

* * *

The reality is - he gets the urges. He gets the pangs of hunger and the dry-mouthed thirst; the deep aches for rest; the need for an extra long shower with his hands on himself, gritting his teeth to bite back the noise. Dean has basic desires and fleeting wants. All of them remain only surface-deep - they never soothe the gaping void in his chest, or the sensation that he is rotting from the inside out. Dean tried to explain it to Sam once. After seeing the way his mouth twisted with pity while he listened, he vowed never to bring it up again. He peers into his drink, his tongue darting out to wet his numbing lips while he drums his fingers absently against the glass. Dean’s not sure how many he’s had now, but he has enough muscle control that as he waves down the bartender for another one, he isn’t met with protest. It takes him far too long to realise someone has appeared on the stool next to him. Mind moving sluggishly, he realises that the stillness with which they arrived means they can only be one person. “Not seen you in a while,” Dean says, still looking into his drink, eyeing the sorry drop that’s left. “Hello, Dean,” Cas says, voice low. Dean knows for sure he’s had too much now, because the sound of him instantly sends a flush across his cheeks, one he can’t blame solely on the alcohol. He lifts the glass to pour the last drop onto his tongue, for something to do.

“How’s all that angel crap going?” Dean says as he sets the glass back down, not bothering to dampen the slur of his voice as the bartender brings him his next drink. “It’s fine,” Cas says, a little curtly. He shifts on the stool, half-turning against him. “Sam wondered where you’d gone.” Dean snorts and takes another sip of his drink. “He sent a babysitter.” “He’s been worried about you,” Cas says. Dean hums, licking his lips again. “I’m fine, Cas,” he says. He turns towards him, roaming his eyes across him lazily, then grins, big and toothy. “I’m wonderful. Peachy. Having a swell ol’ time.” As if to prove it, he lifts the glass up with a jerk, inadvertently sloshing some of the liquid onto his fingers. He swears and puts it down on the napkin, sloppily licking his fingers. Dean only barely has enough self-control to stop himself from making a sensual show of it.

Cas doesn’t say anything. Dean can feel the weight of his gaze, but he now feels unable to look at him. After a moment, he hears Cas call the bartender over. “Whatever he’s having, please,” he says.

Dean feels himself sink into the seat, releasing tension in his body he hadn’t even known was there. As Cas receives his drink and lifts it to his lips, Dean watches. He’s too drunk now to be able to look away; the willpower it takes is already challenging while sober. Cas maintains eye contact as he takes a sip, and something in his eyes keeps Dean’s gaze locked to him. The urges, as always, are there - even if they are inhabiting a dead man.

He’s starting to feel the latent effects of the previous drinks now, buzzing underneath the surface of his skin. Dean takes another long sip, relishing the burn of it at the back of the throat, and Cas doesn’t say anything more. He remains a warm, solid form next to him as they drink. None of them push each other further, and Dean is grateful for it. By the time the glass is empty, the full effects of the alcohol is working its way through his body, sending the room into a hazy spin, with Cas being the only steady thing left. Dean vaguely registers being taken out of the bar, feeling the bite of the night air on his skin, cooling the warmth on his cheeks.

“I’m not really hungry, Cas,” Dean says, eventually, as he begins to register his feet moving under him. “You’re not making any sense,” Cas says, his breath hot in his ear. Dean desperately wants to lean into it. He realises now that he’s been talking for a while.

“I told you,” Dean says, “I’m not really hungry.” He laughs, a sharp bark that punctures the still midnight air. “You’re upset because you’re not hungry,” Cas says slowly. Dean snorts inelegantly. “Dude,” he says, “I’m upset because you fucked up.” He disentangles himself from Cas from a second, and realises swiftly his mistake as he wobbles around, waving his arm at something to grab at. Eventually, his arm is clasped by Cas, bringing them together again. Dean makes a half-hearted attempt to separate himself from him, but there is nothing solid around to steady him except for Cas. He feels giddy now, inane laughter bubbling up from his chest. “I’m not all here, man,” Dean says. “There’s something missing.” A bizarre thought occurs to him. “I’m not soulless, am I?” “No, Dean,” Cas says. Dean shakes his head. “You angels ever get that feeling where,” he snaps his fingers, clumsily, “you keep worrying you’ve left the oven on?” “No,” Cas says. “Well, it’s like that,” Dean says, swinging his finger emphatically. “You did that. Except it was me. I was the oven.” They shuffle along quietly for a moment, Dean slumped into Cas, pulling back every urge to nuzzle into his neck. “I’m very confused by this metaphor,” Cas says eventually. “Yeah, ‘cause you’re the one who left it on,” Dean says, as if explaining to a toddler. “I see,” Cas says, resignation laced in his voice.

This time, Dean can’t help but nuzzle into him. “I should be pissed at you, you know,” Dean says into his ear.

Cas doesn’t say anything, seemingly focused entirely now on keeping Dean upright, urging him to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Dean wonders if Cas ever expected himself to be abandoning his heavenly missions in favour of dragging a drunk man home. “No,” Cas says. Dean realises he’s saying everything out loud, and snaps his mouth shut. “Hey,” Dean says, deliberately this time. “Why aren’t you, uh,” he frowns, and makes his one free hand flap like a bird, “you know, just flying me back?” “Not sure how the effects would be on someone this inebriated,” Cas says. “Keys, Dean.” “We should go to Hawaii or something. Get a couple of drinks there,” Dean says. “Dean,” Cas repeats firmly. “The motel keys.” Then he starts patting Dean’s jacket down, and Dean sways in place, focused now entirely on keeping his head cool while Cas’ hands move all over him. He pulls the keys from his jean pocket, his hand far too close to Dean’s crotch for his liking, and they jingle as Cas unlocks the room. The giddiness deflates from Dean’s chest as he remembers, suddenly, why he’s here. How he had left Sam with a mumbled excuse, booked a room for just himself, because he could no longer bear how the hollowness had grown to a gaping hole in his chest; or how he had the overwhelming sensation of being nothing but a puppet, an empty vessel that was simply being manouvered into doing things he was supposed to. Drinking, sleeping, eating, hunting, teasing Sammy, flirting with girls - all things he had done before spending a lifetime in hell. He does all the same things, but they are no longer the same. This time, Dean Winchester is no longer there. He died a long time ago. “Dean?” He looks up, and realises he’s gone still in the doorway, and the image focuses slowly in his eyes. Cas is watching him with his brows furrowed together, his mouth set in a worried line. Dean feels like he should laugh again, but there is nothing left in him now but what remains at the core of him - a deep, aching nothingness. Dean swings the door shut behind him, and Cas reaches out to him as he attempts to stand on his own two wobbly feet. Smiling thinly, Dean says, “I’m all wrong.” With effort, he tugs the jacket off. It feels like it’s wound tightly around every limb, refusing to let go, but eventually he manages to peel it off. “You left a piece of me down there in the pit,” Dean says, and huffs a dry, humourless laugh. “You left the damn oven on.” For a moment, Cas says nothing. He hovers a half-step close to him, and they stand quietly while Dean’s breaths get thick and raspy, his hands trembling by his sides. “You gotta fix this shit,” he bites out, and he feels his cheeks have turned hot and wet. Dean braves the journey to the bed, with Cas’ hands securing him by his side, and he slumps down heavily on it. “You gotta,” he presses the palms of his hands into his eyes, drawing in a shaky breath, “You gotta fix this, Cas.”

He breathes into his hands, both covering his face, and he draws in a breath, then another, his whole body trembling. “I can’t do it anymore,” he says, his voice small, breaking at the end. “I can’t go on anymore, Cas.”

Dean’s hands are gripped by something warm and soft. Cas’ hands are pulling them gently away from his face, and placing them on his knees. He doesn’t make a move as Cas tenderly brushes away the tears streaking down his cheeks. He doesn’t protest as he cups his face. Distantly, he wonders if anyone has ever touched him like this, and comes up short. Cas is just inches from him, his eyes watching him like he wants nothing more than to draw out every bit of pain and ache Dean has ever experienced. Dean is gripped by the notion that he could lean forward and kiss Cas right now. It’s not the first time he’s thought it, but it’s the first time he’s let himself seriously consider it. “You need to get some sleep, Dean,” Cas says. His voice is barely a whisper off his lips.

Dean feels Cas’ hand over his forehead, and for a brief moment, he wonders if it is normal for angels to have a touch that is so unbearably tender, as if they can pour love into their skin. He feels as if something warm has filled his chest, the dry ache smoothed away, the sensation of something like peace. For one insane moment, he wants to tell Cas he loves him. He doesn’t.

Instead, he sleeps.

* * *

When Dean awakes the next morning, he thinks for the briefest of seconds that he can see a dip in the mattress, fresh from the weight of a body. As he rubs the sleep out of his eyes and shakes himself awake, he remembers that he is alone.

Dean reaches out for his phone, clumsily plugs it into his charger and waits impatiently for the screen to finally light up in a glow. He calls Sam, who has left five increasingly panicked voice messages on his phone. He ribs him mercilessly for it - What are you, an old man? Send a text like everyone else! - and then lets him know his phone had died over the night. There, nothing to be worried about.

The events of the past day feel foggy, courtesy of the hangover. Despite that, when Dean looks up in the bathroom mirror, he finds himself looking refreshed. He feels lighter than he has in years. Later, he tells Sam that he clearly needs to take more vacations away from his griping, and receives a half-hearted punch to his shoulder. "I prayed to Cas, you know," Sam says, looking at his hands. "He must be busy. Didn't answer." Dean huffs, sipping his coffee. "God, you're such a drama queen. Can't survive without your big brother for one day." "Shut up, jerk." "Bitch." Sam sends him a look, but he doesn't say more - he changes the topic, and that's that. Dean drinks his coffee as he half-listens to Sam filling him in on a new case, and he tries to recall when he last saw Cas. He wonders, briefly, if he should pray to him. His stomach flutters traitorously at the thought, and Dean swallows thickly, deciding against it.

He swirls around the remaining coffee in his cup, rubbing his chest absently, and wonders at the ache that has settled there now. Distantly, he reaches for the broken pieces of an old memory, a lingering sensation of a warm palm to his forehead.

#fic prompt #unbetaed #rosa writes #deancas #destiel #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #thank you so much for this AWESOME prompt anon #not sure i did it a sliver of justice but i loved the concept

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rachaelswrites · 4 years ago

Text

Poppy

Emily Prentiss x daughter!reader

Based on Murder Song by Aurora

Word Count: 2,641

A/N: I’ve had this song stuck in my head forever so I had to write something. I hope you guys like it

Warnings: Kidnapping, mentions of blood, guns major character death,

Your mom prepared you for this. She always told you to watch your back and she taught you to protect yourself, but you let her down. It was as if everything she told you left your brain. It could’ve been the fear coursing through your veins or the drugs still clouding your memory. Emily told you what to do but you just couldn’t.

It felt like years but in reality you were only missing for three days. The team didn’t know if you were still alive. Emily’s hope is the only thing that kept the team going. She believed in her little girl and knew she could fight her way through anything. She knew her daughter was smart and knew she was holding on.

You weren’t thinking clearly and you tried to remember what happened to you. You remember that your mom was coming home after a stressful day at work. You knew she loved her wine so you set out the bottle and a glass for her. While waiting for her, you went into your room and did homework. You heard a window shatter. You snuck into your mom’s room and found her hidden gun. You slowly walked into the living room and kitchen. You saw a man looking through some of the books on the shelves.

“I’ll shoot you. Don’t move,” you trained the gun on the man in front of you. You tried to keep your voice steady but it shook a little.

The man laughed darkly, “Now, why would you do that Poppy?”

You froze. That was the identity you used after your mom faked her death. You went to Paris with her and continued living as Poppy. Nobody except JJ and your mom knew that name.

“Or do you go by Y/n now? I don’t remember.”

“How do you know me?” you moved your finger closer to the trigger.

“You’re not going to kill me. You were always a curious little girl. Do you remember? It was a long time ago.”

You tried to remember. You were only in Paris for a year and you were young. You looked back to where the man was but he was gone. You were too focused on remembering him that you didn’t notice he came up behind you and snatched the gun out of your hand.

He threw it across the room, “I don’t want to hurt you Poppy. I want you to learn.”

You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t remember this man. You thought you could try and stall him until your mom got home. Your phone was in your room so you couldn’t call anyone. You looked for something to hit him with. You spotted the wine bottle. Surely Emily would forgive you.

You reached for the bottle and hit him on the back of the head. It shattered, spilling red wine and glass everywhere. It didn’t seem to phase him. You tried to run and scream but he grabbed you and covered your mouth with a cloth.

When Emily came home, she saw the mess but nothing else was out of place. She saw some blood and figured you just dropped the bottle off the counter and cut yourself, trying to clean up.

“Y/n are you ok?”

She didn’t hear any noise coming from the bathroom or your room. She went into the bathroom and nothing had been touched since this morning. When she went into your room, your homework was open and your phone on your desk. It was still on and you had tons of missed notifications. She went into her room and saw the safe that held her gun was open and the gun itself was missing.

She ran back into the living room and saw the gun on the floor. She looked around the room and saw the shattered window. She ran out of the apartment and called the team.

The sound of a lock clicking distracted you from your thoughts. The man opened the door and sat on the bed across from the chair you were sitting in.

“Do you want to talk?” he asked.

“Talk about what? You kidnapped me. I have nothing to say to you,” you spat at him. He was keeping you in a house. You were in one of the bedrooms. The window was boarded up and there were no clocks. You didn’t know the time or day. To be honest, you gave up. You saw his face. You knew he would kill you. You just wanted it to be over, “Are you going to tell me how you’re going to kill me? Because if not, then I don’t care.”

“I already told you. I have no interest in hurting you. I want you to learn about your mom. I want you to understand why I’m better than her,” he stood up and walked towards you.

You stood up also, trying to challenge him, “I have nothing to learn from you. You’re just a sick son of a bitch who gets off on kidnapping kids.”

He laughed in your face, “I see you listen to things your mother tells you. If you don’t want to talk to me, maybe you’ll talk to her,” he gripped your hair roughly and dragged you through the house into the living room. All these windows were boarded up as well.

“My mom? What did you do to her?”

He grabbed a cell phone and dialed a number, putting it on speaker, “Nothing yet,” he waited until a person spoke. It was Rossi.

“It’s about time we spoke. It’s been a few days,” Rossi said calmly.

“Put Emily on the phone.”

“Not until we know the girl is alive.”

The man motioned for you to come closer, but you shook your head.

“Come on Poppy. Don’t be shy. It’s just your mother,”

On the other end of the call, the team was confused. Except for Emily and JJ.

“How does he know that?” JJ asked Emily.

“Know what? Does the name Poppy mean anything?” Alvez asked.

“It was her identity while I was in Paris. It was a way to keep her with me and to keep her safe,” Emily looked around the room. Her eyes landed on Reid.

“I thought she was with your mom. That’s what you said,” Reid was the most hurt when she “died.” he wanted to take you in, raise you so you could remember your mom and follow in her footsteps, “You lied again.”

“Just to keep her safe.”

It was one of the rare times Emily got to have you. Her job wasn’t stable enough for a toddler, but your dad’s was.

She had a week off and she knew how much you loved France. You were only three but you talked non-stop about it. You always wanted to go and she surprised you.

“Momma where are we going?” you asked her. She was holding your hand at the train station.

“It’s a surprise Y/n.” she said back.

“I don’t wike surpwises,” you pouted. You crossed your arms over your chest.

Emily crouched down next to you, lifting your head with her finger, “Don’t pout. I promise it’ll be worth it,” she moved some hair behind your ear and tightened your coat around you.

On the train, Emily sat you on her lap. She listened to you babble about certain things that caught your eye. Whether it was a cow with a certain pattern or an especially fluffy cloud. You two reached your stop and your mom helped you off the train.

“Where are we?”

Emily lifted you up so you could see over the station, “Those are poppies. There the flower you like so much,”

The attention was turned back to the phone, “Let me talk to Emily and she can talk to Poppy.”

Emily took the phone from Rossi, “Did you hurt her? Because if you did I sw-”

“Relax. She’s fine,” there was a pause before you were handed the phone.

“Momma? Please help me.”

Emily’s heart broke. You hadn’t called her that in years, “I’m trying Y/n I promise. Can you give me any details about where you are?”

The man looked at you and pulled out a gun. He would shoot you if you talked.

“No, I can’t. He said he knows me from Paris but I don’t remember.”

“That’s ok, anything helps.”

“What day is it? I can’t see anything. The windows in the house are boarded.”

That was definitely a hint to where you were. Before she had a chance to respond, a loud sound from the phone startled everyone.

“Shut up!” there was a loud thud and the sound of your screams filled the phone and the line went dead.

The man hit you in the head with the butt of the gun and shoved you to the floor. He started kicking you all over, “I told you to listen! You didn’t and now, I get to have my way!” he pulled you up by the collar of your shirt and punched you in the eye. He dropped you, “Go to your room!” he shoved you in the direction of the hallway. You limped back to the door and slammed it shut.

You were confused. What did he want from you? You sat on the bed carefully. Your body was covered in cuts and bruises. You let your mind wander, trying to forget about the pain scorching your body.

You entered the building, hand in hand with your dad. There were tons of people working at desks or standing and talking.

“Daddy where are we,” you looked up at him.

He smiled back down at his four year old daughter, “This is where momma works. You wanted to see her right?”

You nodded.

A man stopped you two and asked where you were going, “We need to see Emily Prentiss, is she here?”

At the mention of her name, she turned, “Caleb? Y/n?”

“Emily, it’s been a while,” your dad let go of your hand, letting you run to your mom.

“Momma!” you ran into her arms and she picked you up, kissing you on the cheek.

“Oh my gosh! You’ve gotten so big!”

“Daddy says I look like you.”

She smiled and looked at your dad, “Y/n what don’t you go with Spencer while me and daddy talk,” she set you down and you ran over to Spencer. He took you into another room.

The man walked into the room, “I’m sorry. My anger got the best of me. Same thing happened to my daughter,” he sat down on the bed, “They took her from me.”

“You had a daughter?” All the things your mother said about profiling was coming back to you. This guy was a narcissist. All you had to do was keep him talking, long enough for the team to find you.

“I did. I lost her a year before you came. You reminded me so much of her. I wanted, no. Needed to get closer to you.”

“So you took me from my mom. How does that help your daughter?”

“They called me a bad parent,” he looked up from his hands to you, “I watched you, making sure she took care of you.”

“She did. She loved me. She made sure I was safe.”

“No! She didn’t! She took you from everything. I had to wait for years to give you the life you wanted! Don’t you remember?”

His yelling made you flinch, “Please just let me go home. If you want justice just let me go,” you tried to plead with him but his mind was made up.

“You get one more call with her,” and with that, he left the room and locked the door.

You pieced together his words. He was going to kill you. Just like he did his daughter. He thought he was the best dad anyone could have. Anybody else wasn’t worthy and any child in their care was suffering. He was planning on putting you out of your misery.

You flopped back onto the bed. You looked at the ceiling and prayed your mom was going to find you in time.

You were sitting on the floor, watching Spencer perform a magic trick, trying to distract you. Your parents were in the other room and you could hear them arguing. You didn’t know what it was about, but you thought it was you. You watched as your dad pointed at you and then handed your mom a piece of paper. She said something to him and he stormed out of the room, leaving you.

You stood up and tried to get to your mom.

“Y/n you should stay in here,” Spencer tried to keep you in the room but you wiggled out of his grip and ran to your mom.

“Momma are you ok?” you waited for her to look at you. She had tears in her eyes.

“Come here,” she said softly. You crawled onto her lap and looked up, “How would you like to stay with momma for a while? You can get your own room.”

You were snapped out of your thoughts when the door busted open. The man grabbed you by your arm, still bruised and making you wince, “Shut up Poppy,” he whispered, “They’re here.”

You widen your eyes, “Mom! Help! I’m in here!”

“I said shut up!” he pushed you into a wall.

You felt blood trickling down your neck.

The team had managed to track you down, thanks to your hint about the abandoned house. They used the security camera footage from the streets outside your apartment to find the unsub. They tracked his car to this house.

Emily heard you call out for her. Her and Rossi rushed into the room, busting down the door. They saw you, with a gun against your head. They trained their weapons on the man. Emily never broke eye contact with you.

“Mom please don’t. Let me go you’ll be fine without me,”

“I’m going to get you out I promise. Don’t give up please,” she saw the fight slowly leaving your eyes.

He held you in a chokehold. You were bruised and bloody. She almost didn’t recognize you.

“You can’t shoot me without shooting her. But don’t worry. We’ll be happier,”

“Where are you going?” Rossi asked. He was giving the rest of the team time to get in position.

“She’ll be better with me. She won’t suffer anymore Emily. She’ll be in good hands.”

You had enough. You wanted all of this to be over. Your anger bubbled and it spilt.

“I hope you don’t mean yours.”

“Enough!” he held onto you tighter, keeping you from running.

“Let her go. Give me my daughter. We don’t want anyone getting hurt,” Emily tried to reason with him. She saw your tear-stained face and you both knew what was going to happen.

“I love you,” her hand was shaking.

“I love you too.”

The gunshot rang through the house. Your body fell onto the ground, lifeless. Rossi shot the man in the chest. He dropped to the ground. He clutched your hand in his, “I’m sorry Poppy,”

Emily shot him, making him drop your hand, “Don’t call her that. Rossi, call an ambulance,” she told Rossi.

He looked at her, “Emily.”

“Call one now!” she sat on her knees next to you, pulling you onto her lap, “Y/n please, wake up. Please! Help is coming. Stay awake for me,” her tears were dropping onto your shirt. It was one of hers. You two always fought about it. It was her favorite but you loved it. It was now tear and blood stained.

Rossi came over and put his hand on Emily’s shoulder, “Emily, I’m sorry, but she’s gone.”

Taglist

@ssebstann @peachyprincessss @emmy-writes-sometimes @dudele @kerrswriting @laura-naruto-fan1998

#x daughter!reader #x teen!reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction

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