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milariskanavasi · 2 years

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Haze & Hellfire

Chapter Six : Battered Boys and Shattered Girls

Part: 6 /(9) WIP Pairing: Eddie Munson x female OC

Summary: March 1986. Eight months after the Starcourt Mall burned down, the town of Hawkins is back on its feet. The smart, expressive leader of the D&D Hellfire Club, Eddie Munson, is determined that ‘86 will be his year, the year he finally graduates from Hawkins High and finally, maybe pluck up the courage to ask the most stone cold girl in Indiana, Dallas Haze, out. Meanwhile, Dallas Haze lives her life to the fullest by enduring the last three months of high school in the company of her cousin Chrissy, looking forward to her 18th birthday as well as planning a wicked road trip after graduation with her band, Dallas and The Velvet Haze, on the road to fame. Plus it wouldn’t be too bad if someone asked her to prom. When Eddie’s and Dallas’ paths cross in the most unexpected way, neither of them knows what lurks beneath Hawkins or what the future has planned for them.

Chapter summary: The radio silence from Hawkin’s own mystery Inc. begins to wear on the duo on the run. To calm their minds Eddie and Dallas decide to put their heads together and try to help. The escape from the painful reality backfires hard on Dallas and Eddie is again hit with the reality of being on the run up close.

Read the other parts: go to [MASTERLIST]

Chapter Six - Battered Boys and Shattered Girls

Hawkins, summer of 1985.

Who would’ve thought that Hawkins could feel like the warmest place on the earth in August?

The blazing sunshine has put the smalltown inhabitants in a zombie-like daze of pure heatstroke, not being used to temperatures of this magnitude. The concrete vibrates in the non-existent breeze and a mediocre convertible that drives by the two girls walking down the street blasting “The Boys of Summer”, testifies that it’s still the height of summer.

The well maintained gardens of one of Hawkins small residential areas shift in a cavalcade of radiant, enchanting summer colors; leaves in hundreds of shades of green in contrast to the flashing flower beds. Roses in every possible color, snow white gardenias and bright, yellow marigolds. The vegetation, although it’s a neat suburban area, is exuberant and lush, but meticulously managed. The trees are tall, the bushes are dense and perfectly cut. It’s a neat little residential area, a bit smaller than her former home area in Dallas Texas, but mostly it’s the same suburb design. Well-maintained houses, two cars in the driveway and the sound of kids running through a water dispenser in some backyard.

Dallas throws a glance at the seventeen year old girl next to her; a strawberry blonde young woman dressed in pink track shorts and a white top with a matching pink stripe from Sears summer catalog, shining like a bronzed, tanned Skipper-doll in the blazing sun. Dallas feels how her heart almost skips a beat with happiness at the sight of her.

Chrissy Cunningham; Dallas’ gushingly pretty, bubbly and sweet cousin, also her newfound best friend. In her hand she holds an extra large mug filled with clinking ice cubes and lemonade. Just like them, the large paper cup is sweating in the scorching heat. In stark contrast to Chrissy, Dallas doesn’t follow the latest fashion trends. She would rather eat hobnails than wear pastels!

Instead, she trots along beside Chrissy, sweating like a sinner in church in her black frayed denim shorts, Springsteen t-shirt, tube socks and dirty sneakers.

Objectively, they are an odd couple to say the least. Chrissy belongs to Hawkins' High School-elite, the upper echelon that to ordinary mortals is like standing and gazing up at Mount Olympus in ancient mythology; radiant, successful, unattainable and too good to be true. Almost. It’s an exaggeration, but through field studies Dallas has established that the popular crowd is always surrounded by a certain glow of charisma, beauty and talent, and very often, wealth. And Chrissy has hit the jackpot big time, over and over!

She’s drop dead gorgeous with strawberry blonde shoulder length hair; big blue eyes and great features. She’s the head cheerleader of Hawkins High, she’s charismatic, has good grades and her family lives in a big colonial with white colons, window shutters and a picket fence. What sets her apart from the rest of the popular crew is her genuine kindness. Up until now, Dallas has never met anyone as kind hearted as Chrissy, but her good heart comes with the price of easily being taken advantage of, which ironically was what brought them together at the public pool and, in the end, the reason they’re walking here next to each other on the burning hot sidewalk.

A true ‘pinch me in the arm’-coincidence.

Another car whizz past them. The speed that is undeniably above the speed limit creates a cool, but short temperature change as it swooshes by them. Hawkins in August is almost as bad as Texas during its hottest weeks of summer, peaking this afternoon at frying eggs on the tarmac-94 degrees.

“Tell me again, how hot was the hottest you experienced in Texas?” Chrissy asks and slurps on her lemonade.

Dallas’ mouth waters at the sound of the clinking ice cubes. She chugged her own mint-lemonade a few seconds after they left the town square, but Chrissy’s more restrained and still has some left.

“About…” Dallas wipes sweat from her forehead with the hem of her t-shirt. “97? It was hot as hell nonetheless. Think they broke the old heat record two years ago or something. I didn’t go out for like… three days?”

Chrissy releases the straw from between her wonky pearly-whites and nods.

“Thanks, it suddenly got a bit less warm around here, don’t you think?” She sighs while fanning herself with her hand.

Dallas laughs and bumps her hip into Chrissy’s.

“So… just to be clear; you think I should do it?” Dallas asks for probably the third time since they left the ice cream shop downtown, where they’d spent another few dollars on two scoops of mint chocolate chip, classic vanilla, chocolate brownie bomb and blueberry blazzzt that, according to Chrissy, was waaay better than the ice cream at Scoops Ahoy that was the former ice cream mekka of Hawkins. “I mean, the chances of it LEADING to something serious is…” Dallas grimaces, indicating that her chances are fairly low.

“Of course!” Chrissy smiles excitedly, squinting in the bright sun. “I’m SURE there’s more girls thinking the same thing you do!”

Dallas vented her thoughts about putting an ad in Creem-magazine about wanting to form an all-girl rock band.

“In Hawkins?” Dallas asks doubtfully.

“Okay maybe not in Hawkins.” Chrissy admits. “But Indianapolis isn’t that far! There’s plenty of potential there!”

The forever optimist has spoken. Dallas smiles and picks a piece of chocolate chip from between her front teeth.

“Okay! I’ll do it then.”

“You better!” Chrissy smirks, then she gets an excited expression on her face. “Oh please, can you have matching outfits!” She exclaims, almost jumping up and down as she walks next to Dallas. “I’ve always loved bands who have matching outfits! Oh, and choreography!”

“Eh, no on the choreography. Maybe on the outfits. But only if they’re leather.” Dallas replies, thinking that it wouldn’t be such a bad idea. It worked for the Runaways! To be fair, she has a pretty neat ass. Not sure the stiff leather would think the same. “And studs.” She adds. “Lots of them!”

Chrissy squeals with excitement, hooks her arm into Dallas’ and leans her head at her shoulder as they continue down the road.

They've known each other for just a few weeks and spent almost every day together since Dallas got both her and Chrissy kicked out of the public pool. A few very intense weeks where they’ve been hanging out almost every day and night.

They’ve taken long night walks; eaten ice cream; layed on a blanket in Dallas' garden, listened to music and talked until their throats were hoarse. Chrissy has even spent the night at the Haze’s house.

One night they dug out mom and dad’s old camping tent and put it up in the garden, underneath the apple tree; other nights they slept next to each other in Dallas’ bed, reading smutty adult short stories in romance magazines and dad’s old horror fiction magazines under the covers with a flashlight, while listening to the heavy rain beat against the window and the thunder roaring over the rooftops in the neighborhood; they’ve been to a party together -that Dallas tried her best to weasel out of, without any luck- in the empty football field at Hawkins High where Dallas got a crash course in the different cliques one had to know who they was to not be labeled a complete idiot the first day of the new semester.

That night in the football field Chrissy kissed Jason “saphead” Carver for the first time, while Dallas watched from afar, making sure that it went fair and square, not liking what she witnessed for a dime. But she let them be. Partially because the banger “The Warrior” with Patty Smyth and the Scandal blasted out of a car stereo and she had to find whoever was guilty of such a genius move and partially because she’d ask Chrissy to literally scream her fucking heart out if she needed her. Luckily Chrissy didn’t need any help. Maybe because she had Jason’s icky tongue halfway down her windpipe. Either way, Dallas could listen to the song without any interruptions.

“Jason invited me to his party on Saturday.”

Speak of the devil.

“Hm.”

She leaves out the sermon on exactly what she’d rather do than spend a night drinking at Jason Carver’s place.

“Oh come on, you’ll go with me, right!?”

“I dunno…” Dallas hesitates, desperately thinking of a smoother way to decline the offer than ‘I’d rather jump off a cliff’. “Do I have to?”

“Please, please-” Chrissy pleads. “It’s gonna be great! Plus, It could be the last party of the summer before the term!”

“Oh, yeah ‘cause THAT really makes a difference.” Dallas scoffs ironically. “Having party-punch in Jason’s lavish backyard with smashed jocks and cheerleaders… wow, I can’t brace myself Chris.”

They turn left at the sign indicating that they’re now at Breakwater Drive and pass underneath a low hanging Nymansay-tree. Its dense foliage and fragrant white flowers creates a small patch of shadow in the sidewalk in sharp contrast to the sticky heat that causes the tarmac to vibrate and the tank top sticks to her back.

They stop underneath the low hanging branches to sniff the flowers and enjoy the shade, leaning up against the picket fence next to the tree trunk. From where they stand Dallas can see the big, brick house that is the Cunningham’s residence. Chrissy’s mom, Dallas’ aunt, married into money for sure. Dallas’ own mom married into secondary money, as dad works in a bank. Almost the same, right?

“Pl-pl-pl-pl-pleeeeaseeee…” Chrissy flutters her long eyelashes at her. “I really wanna go! Plus it’s a great opportunity to point everyone out for you. You know, better be prepared for when the term starts!”

“As in everyone I’m NOT going to hang out with at school anyway?”

This inauguration-rite into the popular sphere hasn’t exactly gone swell so far for Dallas. Must be the lack of pastel in her wardrobe.

“For meee?” Chrissy pouts. “Your best friend in the whole wide world?”

Damn you Chrissy Cunningham, Dallas thinks to herself. Dallas lets her shoulders down and rolls her eyes. She CAN’T say no to Chrissy for some reason. It’s her kryptonite.

“Fine! Fine!” Dallas sighs. “I’ll think about it.”

“Thank yooou!” Chrissy burst out in a triumphant smile.

They shortcuts over the perfectly cut lawn, which despite the heatwave looks as healthy and green as ever, all thanks to the hard working sprinkler that has taken a much-needed break. They pass the big front door with the big, silver numbers 537 next to it and walk around to the kitchen door. As Chrissy’s unlocked it, she sticks her sunbleached, strawberry blonde head into the opening.

“Hello?”

An act of precaution. Chrissy’s parents shouldn’t be home for at least two hours. It feels both naughty and silly to be this cautious. But they can’t be too careful. Their friendship is a strictly forbidden friendship, at least from Chrissy’s side of the family. It’s almost like Romeo and Juliet, except that Romeo is replaced by a, in Dallas's opinion, much funnier friend that also happens to be Juliet’s cousin.

“Coast’s clear.” Chrissy states.

She opens the door wide and they enter. It’s like stepping into a freezer. A big, pleasant and cool freezer. Thank god for AC!

“Jeez Louise-” Dallas groans as the cool air wraps around her. “I’d give my left foot for indoor AC. Those crappy fans just blow around dust and make you feel sick.”

“Dad installed it before summer.” Chrissy explains with a shrug as she opens the freezer and takes out two soda cans. “Come, let’s go up to my room.”

Still sighing at the cooling, amazing breeze that swirls around the big house, Dallas follows Chrissy out into the hall, up the stairs. There, they pass the enormous, grotesquely painted portrait of the Cunningham’s hanging at the landing; Chrissy in a blue dress, her father with the wandering hairline, her brother in a cardigan and her mother sitting at the front in a red dress and pearls around her neck. Everyone is smiling wide, but it’s like the artist that was hired to paint the picture could tell that the smiles and the jolly, neat facade, wasn’t anything else then just that - a facade. Dallas huffs at the sight of the portrait, before she hurries after Chrissy’s tanned legs up to the second floor.

Chrissy’s strawberry blonde locks dance around her bare, sunburned shoulders as she walks through the corridor to the white mirror-door to Chrissy’s bedroom. It has a pink wooden sign with ‘Chrissy’s room’ written on it, decorated with butterflies. A relic from her innocent childhood that has followed her up into the more complicated teenage years. She pushes the door open and they enter into a big, bright bedroom bathing in sunlight. It’s like a copy from a girly magazine; a big bed with fluffy pillows, a dresser with framed photos and a jewelry box, a wardrobe crammed with clothes in pastel shades, a crammed dressing table and a bookshelf with prizes, a few books and more photographs. A potted plant stands on the window sill; a pink Anthurium. When you can’t flaunt your friendship openly in case of a mother-related meltdown, there’s plants. Dallas brought the potted plant with her last time she came to visit - incognito. Chrissy got beyond excited over the simple gift.

Out of pure reflex, Dallas goes straight to the plant and puts her fingers down into the soil. Smiling, she notes that Chrissy takes care of it carefully. But it looks a little sad in the grillin’ sun, so she puts it safely behind the curtain.

“You’re really taking good care of it.” Dallas turns around and plops down on the big, soft bed next to Chrissy.

“Of course!” Chrissy pops the cold soda open and takes a sip. “If only there was nail polish in that shade.” She throws a glance down at her chewed, sad setup of fingernails with some chipped, pastel blue polish left.

“Okay, where is it?” Dallas looks at Chrissy.

There’s a reason she braved all the dangers of being in the Cunningham residence as a member of the notorious Haze family.

“Yeah, right!”

Chrissy hurries out of the room, but she’s back soon, holding an old, brownish shoe box in her hands.

“I found it in the attic.” She puts it down on the bed and brushes away some dust. Faded letters written in blue ballpen appear. “Honestly, I just stumbled upon it. I don’t think mom even knows it exists, or that she still has it.” She grins. “Luckily for us.”

A secret box. A box filled with Chrissy’s mothers old photos. Chrissy had told her about it the first thing she did when they met up earlier in the day. She was up in the attic looking for a set of badminton racquets and had found the small, anonymous box behind an old trunk. Could this explain the complicated relationship between their mothers?

Carefully, as if she was Indiana Jones himself opening a sacred, ancient tomb, Dallas removes the lid and they both dive down into the box, causing them to bump their foreheads together. Not very Indiana Jones-y.

The content is a mix of small square photos with ruffled edges, polaroids and rectangular pictures. Black and white photos and photos whose colors have faded after years of sitting in a weathered attic. They start to go through them, grab a few each and observe them under a few moments of silence. Dallas looks down at the family in one picture. It’s Christmas and she can clearly point out grandma, grandpa and the two girls in the picture as her mom and aunt. Her mom sits on her fathers arm, a younger, less wrinkly version of grandpa, and has a huge, cheeky laugh on her face as she clings to grandpa’s Christmas-tie. He looks at her with a big smile on his lips. On the floor between him and grandma, stands Chrissy’s mom with a faint smile on her face. Her blonde angelic, well combed hair stands in stark contrast to Dallas’ mom’s messy hair where the bow has almost fallen out. Another picture shows the sisters out in the garden. Another one shows them standing next to their bicycles in the street, with ‘Laura and Natalie, summer-51’ written on the back.

“Wonder what happened?” Chrissy sighs and her eyes turn sad as she puts a picture of the two sisters, dressed up as cowboys on halloween down in her pile.

“Your mom hasn’t told you?” Dallas widens her eyes at Chrissy. “Oh, yeah, right.” She quickly continues as she sees her cousin’s left eyebrow rise underneath the blonde fringe.

“Yours have?” Chrissy asks.

“Yeah.” Dallas nods. “Or I mean, partially. I suspect she hasn’t said EVERYTHING, but enough.”

“And?”

“Honestly, by now I think they’ve forgotten the core of the grudge.” Dallas shrugs. “It’s just something that’s… there. Like organically. But I got my theories.”

“Which is?” “I just think they are too different. It has always chafed.” Dallas begins, while fanning herself with the faded polaroid. “They’ve always quarreled, always been rivals, in one way or another. I don’t think mom would put it that way if I asked her, but I think that’s what it’s all about.” She observes the girls in the picture. “Blood ain’t thicker than water. I think mom tried to mend honestly, until she realized that it was pointless.”

“You think that’s why you moved away from Hawkins?”

“Nah.” Dallas shakes her mane. “Not entirely at least. But she was less tense after the move. I think the distance gave her some breathing space.”

“It’s just… hard to even imagine them being sisters at all. They’re so-” Chrissy looks up into the ceiling, to find a fitting word fitting, other than ‘different as night and day’. She sighs. “-your mom is kind, protective… while mine’s-” Chrissy pauses, can’t bring herself to say it out loud. Her chin drops and she blinks, quickly puts the picture down and takes another out one from the box. “I know it’s mean of me to think like that-” She bites her lower lip. “But sometimes I wish we were sisters. For real. That your mom was my mom too.”

Dallas reaches out and strokes Chrissy’s arm, up and down. The soft skin still radiates warmth from sun exposure and a faint scent of tropical fruits and warm, sweet coconut lies around her like a pleasant cloud, from the sunscreen she applied earlier.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t be sisters anyway, right?” Dallas smiles. “We’re family, Chris. No matter what.”

With a little chuckle, Chrissy’s angelic face breaks out into a smile. She finds Dallas’s hand and squeezes it tightly, before widening her big eyes.

“I almost forgot!” She exclaims and jumps up from the bed like a jack-in-the-box. She hurries over to the dresser and the jewelry box. She opens it and takes something out of it. “Ta-da!”

A small, emerald green plastic case.

“Oh my god!” Dallas smiles wide. “You got it!”

“I did!” She replies excitedly. “Yesterday, in the mail!”

Chrissy hops over to the bed, sits down and holds out the small plastic box for her to see. Dallas takes it in her hands, tracing the thin, golden frame around the box lid with her index finger. With excitement glowing in their eyes, Dallas opens it.

“Oooh, sweet!”

“It’s perfect!” Chrissy gasps.

A sound downstairs makes them both jump on the soft bed; a heavy door that opens and closes, followed by footsteps towards the hardwood floor and a voice, calling out from the foot of the stairs.

“Chrissy! Are you home?”

“Shit!” Dallas and Chrissy exclaims in unison.

“Chrissy? Chrissy, are you there?”

“I thought you said they wouldn’t be back in like an hour?” Dallas hisses at Chrissy.

“They wouldn’t.” Chrissy replies with a worried expression on her face. “We gotta hide all this!”

Quickly, they gather all the photographs and put them back into the shoe box. While Chrissy puts the small green case back into her big jewelry box, Dallas pushes the shoe box under the bed and hurries on her tippy toes towards the window. She pushes it open as the footsteps come closer, up the stairs, and climbs out on the roof. There she pushes the window down slightly and adjusts towards the brick wall next to the window, while looking around to make sure no one has seen her. A girl on top of a roof isn’t exactly typical for this area, or any area for that matter.

Inside the room, the door opens with a faint creak.

“Chrissy, why aren’t you answering when I’m calling?”

Mrs. Cunningham. Also known, unofficially, as Beelzebub.

“Mom, you’re home early.” Dallas hears Chrissy exclaim, attempting to sound as normal and unaffected as possible by her mother’s sudden entrance. “I just… dozed off. It’s so hot.”

Dallas feels how the concern grows inside her stomach. With crossed fingers, she prays to higher powers that Chrissy’s lie will hold.

“I forgot my purse and wallet, your father’s waiting in the car.” Mrs. Cunningham replies in that somewhat haughty way that Dallas finds so incredibly fucking annoying. “You’re going out?”

“Eh, just with some friends.” Chrissy lies angelic. “It’s such a nice day. I’ll be back for dinner. I promise.”

Strained silence follows upon Chrissy’s lie. Dallas would’ve brought it, but she’s not sure Mrs. Cunningham does. Carefully, not to make a sound and revealing her position, or to avoid falling straight into the big rose bushes below, Dallas moves a little to the right, so she can peek back into the room, past the sheer curtains.

Mrs. Cunningham stands in the doorway to the room, looking at Chrissy who’s sitting on the bed. Her sharp, gray eyes narrow as she observes her daughter like a hawk protecting its prey. Dallas can tell Chrissy’s fiddling nervously with her poor, massacred cuticles. There’s no one that goes through a box of bandaids as fast as Chris. Maybe she already feels a twinge of worry. She’s probably nervous down to the marrow.

“You’re not leaving the house in those shorts, are you?” Mrs. Cunningham’s narrowed eyes have landed on Chrissy’s track shorts.

Yeah, Dallas’ concern was justified. Big time.

“Y-yes?” Chrissy says shaky. “I like them.”

It’s brave of her to say something like that. It wasn’t an indifferent, kind question she answered - she stood up for herself. But it doesn’t go down well with her mother.

“You’ve gone a little pudgy.” Mrs. Cunningham snaps in reply. “It’s all that ice cream you’ve been eating.” She rolls her eyes and sighs. “How do you expect to stay head cheerleader if-”

“Mom, I-”

“Don’t be impudent, Chrissy.” Mrs. Cunningham cuts off, sharp as a knife. “I care about you.” She nods her head a little and snarls her mouth.

A very fucking strange way to show someone that they care, Dallas thinks to herself and grinds her teeth.

“Head cheerleaders aren’t pudgy, that’s for the lesser, the ordinary girls.” Mrs. Cunningham continues. “Do you want to be ordinary?”

Dallas’ temples are throbbing and she clenches her hands so tightly that her knuckles are close to bursting out of the thin, tanned skin on the back of her hands. The only thing stopping her from intervening and giving Mrs. Cunningham a telling-off like no other is her promise to Chrissy. Do not intervene. A promise that feels like deep stab wounds. She hates Chrissy’s mother, her own aunt, with her body and soul. What a vile, horrible human being she is! To think that her kind, mildly overprotective mom is the sister of such a shrew is as incomprehensible as if Ozzy Osbourne were to start singing opera.

“Sorry.” Chrissy utters faintly.

“Believe me, there’s lots of other girls in line for the spot as head cheerleader - in line to be extraordinary.”

“Yes.” Chrissy replies faintly.

“Good.” Mrs. Cunningham nods. “We’ll be back in an hour. If you’re going out, change into something-” She rolls her eyes a little. “Roomier.”

Mrs. Cunningham closes the door as she leaves the room and Dallas waits for her steps to die out as she walks downstairs. Then Dallas pushes the window open and climbs back inside, carefully, not to tip over the Anthurium in its pot. Chrissy remains on her bed with her back towards her. The bronzy, sunkissed shoulders have started to shiver while a quiet sobbing sound comes from Chrissy’s mouth. On her tiptoes Dallas hurries over to the door and turns the lock. Then she throws herself down next to her now crying cousin on the bed and clasps her in a tight, protective hug while pressing her cheek to Chrissy’s now tear drenched face.

“I’m here.” Dallas says quietly and puts a kiss on Chrissy’s hair, while softly rocking her side to side. “I’m here, Chris.”

Still crying and shaking, Chrissy hugs her arm, leans into her, and lets herself break down in Dallas’ arms.

It breaks Dallas’ heart seeing Chrissy like this; the anger boils inside of Dallas’ chest as she squeezes Chrissy even harder.

“I’m here.” Dallas masses. “I’m here…”

“Oh- Dallas…” Chrissy pleadingly sobs and sniffles loudly. “Dallas, don’t ever leave me. Please?”

“I won’t, Chris.” Dallas says assuringly. “I will always be here. I PROMISE. No matter what.” She manages to release one arm around Chrissy and hooks her little finger around Chrissy’s, whose poor cuticle looks worse than Capone’s St. Valentine’s day massacre. “Pinky promise on that.”

Eddies POV:

“Heeelp me! Eddie, please, help!”

Abruptly, with his heart on the verge of shooting out of his chest, Eddie’s jolted out of his sleeping state by Chrissy’s loud, deafening scream. Once again, like a broken record, her badly deformed face kept him in a state of paralyzed fear as her eyes snapped back inside her head as dark, thick blood dripped down from the ceiling of the trailer. Eddie swallows hard. Chrissy’s chilling scream of agony echoes inside his head to the beat of his racing heart, hammering at his ribcage. While staring drowsily up into the roof, out of breath from sheer panic, Eddie tries to collect his thoughts.

It was a dream. Just a dream. With his heart halfway up his throat and his pulse working its way down to a normal pace, Eddie lifts his arm and looks at his wristwatch. It’s almost eleven. A dusky, tired ray of pale sunlight seeps into the blinds. He’s back in Rick’s cabin. Not that he ever left it, but the sight of the messy room and the dust particles hazily dancing around the air is a relief in contrast to his dream. The sun outside the covered windows is seemingly as newly awake as he is; it hasn’t bothered to get up either.

Eddie’s slept more than he has in a long time. But there’s something holding him back from getting ahead of the sun and rolling out of bed. Dallas Haze, clinging over him like a monkey holding on to a tree trunk. Her long, brown hair flowing around her bare skin like soft seaweed and she snores. A warm surge spreads throughout his blood as the thought of what caused them to lie here tangled up in each other, naked, appears in his mind.

It hits him like an improved combat throw in the solar plexus. They’re naked. Before he fell into his now normal sleeping behavior of nightmares, he dreamt the most incredible dream. To be really sure it wasn’t a dream, Eddie grabs a hold of the blankets and lifts, just to check. “Jesus fuckin’-” He swallows as the blanket glides out of his hand. As naked as the day they were born. “Oh my god!”

Eddie puts his hand over his forehead as it all comes back to him like a mental tidal wave. A faint whistle escapes his mouth. Last night was one of the most amazing nights of his life. Maybe even better than the epic “Wrath of Morkoth’-campaign in the summer of ‘84, that had him in a state of euphoria for almost two weeks afterwards. It was beyond anything he’d ever experienced. The campaign kept him and the other members of the club in a tight grip for four days; they couldn’t prioritize sleep or food when they were in the middle of a marine battle in the abyss against the ferocious kraken.

Eddie glances down at Dallas. Even though she snores pretty loud, she’s not Morkoth. But honestly, this may top that epic campaign-experience.

Carefully, Eddie adjusts so he can look at her. Being this close for real is beyond his wildest dreams. He has always been shaking in his boots around Dallas Haze; whenever she was nearby or walked past in the hallway he became dazed and momentarily mute. He’d try his best to stay normal and act confident, but it was as impossible as being unfazed by a volcanic eruption happening next to you. A faint chuckle escapes his mouth as he thinks of it; how he sometimes thought that he wouldn’t truly be confident until she became his - IF that would ever happen except in his most unrestrained daydreams, dreamt up in his bedroom at the trailer park. Well, here he is - still as dumbfounded as before he was invited into her sphere.

The prickling in front of his eyes makes Eddie realize that he’s holding his breath. He inhales deeply and lets out a sigh just as Dallas starts to move and grunt, then opens her eyes.

“Good morning.” Eddie spouts gawky.

“Hi.” Dallas replies raspy and stretches. “Shit, what time is it?”

"Does it matter?”

She’s letting out a big yawn and Eddie makes sure not to make any sudden moves; hoping that she won’t fly out of bed regretting it all, he glances down at her, but she doesn’t seem to intend to move. Instead of asking again, she grabs a hold of his arm and checks his wrist watch herself.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Another large yawn escapes her mouth.

Her arm sweeps in an arc through the air and lands on top of him. Soft fingertips start to stroke his arm up and down.

“About last night-”

The words get stuck in his throat and the sudden muteness kicks in. What is he going to say? He didn’t have a plan to begin with when he opened his pie hole. Now it sounds like he regrets it all, which is the stark opposite from the truth. Dallas however doesn’t seem to take notice of his silent mental meltdown.

“It was nice.” She smiles. “I liked it.”

Nice, is that good? Where on the quality-scale of sex does ‘nice’ fit in? A tiny bit of disappointment rushes over him for a matter of seconds. Then curiosity takes over. With his nerves on the outside of his body, Eddie’s eyes flicker between her lips and her eyes as he plucks up every bit of courage he has.

“Which means…” He coaxes cautiously.

A light slap on the chest is what he gets in reply.

“Ouch!”

Dallas looks at him with an expression asking ‘you gotta be joking, right?’.

“You didn’t notice I enjoyed myself?”

“Just wanted to make sure.” Eddie says, rubbing his chest.

He feels a bit dumb. Of course he noticed.

“Jeez Louise...” Dallas sighs. “You’re funny.” Then she rolls her eyes dramatically and makes an even more dramatic sigh and flutters her hand in the air. “Ah, marvelous ‘twas!” She exclaims loud and theatrically. “Goodness gracious, you know how to spoil a lady, Mr. Munson!” She chirps silly. “The way you undertook my bosom so hungrily and how you ravished-”

“I get it, I get it!” Eddie intervenes before the heat on his cheeks increases even more and turns his face into a tomato. “It was amazing.”

“I know.” Dallas replies, with a peculiar smirk.

“What is it?”

“You’re doing it again. Smiling.” Dallas replies. “I like it. It’s pretty.”

Again, his face heathens up.

“Your’s is prettier.” Eddie mumbles, unaccustomed to compliments. “You have very nice teeth. They’re perfect.”

Without warning, Dallas releases herself from him and sits up, making the mattress squeak.

“What is it?” Eddie looks worried at her naked back. “What’s wrong?”

Did he say something wrong? Was it the part about her teeth? They’re perfect, what could be wrong about that?

In all honesty he doesn’t know shit about girls or being in this sort of situation with a girl; it could be anything?! At breakneck speed, Eddie’s brain begins to process every little detail that’s happened since they awoke.

“I was just thinking…” Dallas interrupts his headwork and turns around.

“About what?”

“When all this is over-” Dallas inhales deeply, while fiddling with the hem of the blanket. “I mean, when your name’s been cleared. Van Halen’s gonna be playing at Market Square on May 3rd. Maybe you’d like to go with me, If you’re not busy?” She holds up two wonky fingers in the air, a peculiar detail he hasn’t noticed before about her. “I got two tickets from my grandma on my pre-birthday hangout.”

She seems nervous, while pulling out small threads from the blanket.

“And…” Eddie coaxes, peeking out at the nervous mess of a girl from under his curly bangs.

This isn’t a side of her he’s seen before.

”It’s not the same without Lee Roth of course but-” Dallas looks up at him. “-it might be cool?”

What is he going to say? He’s baffled, having never been asked THE question with a Q before, but he quickly pulls himself together.

“Yeah! Of course!”

Upon his reply, that he almost shouted at her, Dallas cracks up in a sunny smile.

“Great!” She hooks a tangle of her brown hair around her index finger and puts it behind her ear and rolls her eyes theatrically. “Then there’s rumors that Maiden’s going to release something new.” She continues. “That means-”

“Are you asking me out twice, Dallas Daisy Haze?”

To say it out loud is even more terrifying than just thinking it inside his head. But Eddie’s mouth works a lot faster than the part of his brain in charge of his impulse. The usage of her full name makes the corners of Dallas’ mouth turn into a cheeky grin.

“Maybe.”

Without further ado she gets up from the pull out sofa. The striped sunlight hits her naked behind, making her bare skin look tiger striped. What comes to mind first at the sight of her, bathing in the rather bland light in all her naked glory, is Druuna from Morbus Gravis. As fast as the thought emerges in his head it disappears. A sudden flush of shame flows over Eddie; he can’t think of her like that. Morbus Gravis isn’t real. It’s just a stupid comic that degrades women. What stands in front of him is a real person, of flesh and blood and rock ‘n’ roll, plus a fascinating, kick-ass knowledge about fantasy novels. Dallas is real, Druuna isn’t. And Dallas Haze would sucker punch Druuna all the way to the last paragraph of the summer issue of Heavy Metal Magazine.

“Jeez, what is it now?”

Eddie’s pulled away from the world of comic magazines and back to the present. Dallas has turned to look at him. It’s clear as day that she knows what he thinks of. If anything, his staring gaze gives him away.

“Nothing.” Eddie mumbles as his cheeks start to heat up.

“Mhm, sure.” She grins amused and narrows her eyes. “Hold on to that thought though.”

For how long? He wants to ask, but doesn’t. Instead he observes with fascination as she gets dressed; wrestles on her jeans and pulls her tee over her head without putting on her bra. Still with the view of her bare breasts glued on his retina -damn, he’s only human- he gets up and gets dressed as she disappears into the bathroom.

He feels rested and envigored, still riding on the high of endorphins from last night. When she returns he’s back in his regular uniform, shoes and all.

“Have you heard anything?” Dallas asks and picks up her shoes. “The radio’s been awfully quiet.”

“The radio?”

Dallas eyebrows disappear underneath her bangs. She nods towards the radio standing on the coffee table and steps into the black and white shoes.

“That radio.”

Oh, yeah. Dustin put it inside his hand before they ran off, to drive after the patrol cars the other day. He’d almost forgotten about it. It’s been dead silent since then. That’s not a good sign.

“Completely dead, I guess.” Eddie sighs at the sight of the silent radio.

“Well, we can’t just sit here doing nothing.” Dallas states and throws out her arms.

“What are we supposed to do then?”

An ounce of frustration is noticeable in his tone. They’re trapped here. He regrets it immediately, but Dallas doesn’t seem to have taken notice.

“We might as well do our own investigation.” She suggests. “If only to make the time go a little faster.” From the crammed side table next to the couch with a weathered lamp, she takes a red marker-pen. “All we need now is a whiteboard…”

They look around the living room. Rick’s got a lot of crap lying around, but Eddie knows for a fact that he doesn’t have a whiteboard. His eyes land on the smiley face-poster over the pull out bed and he gets an idea. Quickly he steps up onto the squeaky sofa, the white sneakers sink into the mattress while he with his tongue between his teeth rips the poster down from the wall; he’ll buy Rick a new one if he’ll ever notice that it’s gone. He hurries out into the kitchen and finds a roll of duct tape, hurries back into the living room and over to a clean piece of the living room wall. There he slaps up the poster with the backside out and puts four pieces of tape in the corners.

“Voila!”

“Clever.” Dallas nods impressed.

With a ‘plop’ she removes the cap from the pen and starts to write down names, draw circles around them and connect the names with quickly drawn lines. Soon Eddie’s standing in front of a spider’s web of people connected to each other, with two big question marks - how and why?

“Just by looking at it like this doesn’t really make a lot more sense.” Dallas says, tapping her chin with the bottom part of the pen. “What do you think?”

“Me?”

“You’re the eyewitness, which is the same as the most important clue!” She points at him with the pen.

Eddie sighs and once again he sweeps over the web of red names and lines.

“Why her?”

“Exactly.” Dallas nods. “You mentioned she seemed nervous, right?”

“Yeah. Is that weird?” Eddie asks. How would he know?

“Not really.” Dallas shakes her head. “Her mom IS the wicked witch of the west, but I get what you mean. From what you’ve said she seemed more nervous than usual. Something was bothering her. But what?”

“Might be in hindsight, but she seemed more scared than nervous. As if she was followed. Did she know she would be attacked?” Eddie suggests.

“Wouldn’t she be even more terrified then?” The wrinkle between Dallas’ eyebrows has grown deeper. “Maybe she felt something was weird, but didn’t know what it was?”

She removes the cap from the pen and writes ‘Vecna’ in the lower right corner of the mind map, with a spiky circle around. With a squeaky sound, the red marker goes in between Chrissy’s name and Vecna, followed by another question mark.

“That’s it.” Dallas says. “Between Chrissy and Vecna, it’s empty. We don’t know the motive. The big old why?”

Eddie sighs deeply. They’re stuck.

“I hope the others got more luck.” He says.

“Yeah.” Dallas huffs. “We gotta solve this. Fast! The cops aren’t exactly the only ones looking for you.” She glances in his direction. “Jason’s up to something. I know that.”

Eddie scoffs.

“You think he’s dangerous?” He asks.

”He ain’t no boy scout.” Dallas admits. “Not that bright either, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be a threat.”

Eddie huffs, but he knows she’s right. Deep down he’s scared. The mob has been stirred up and soon the cup will run over. If a solution to this doesn't come soon enough, the police won’t be able to prevent riots and he will be in an ever greater danger. Honestly he’d prefer the cops over an angry mob any day. Jason and his cronies wouldn’t hesitate to tear him to shreds. They are past demanding an explanation at this point. They’ve found their scapegoat and want revenge for what happened to Chrissy from the one responsible for her death. That Eddie happened to just be a witness won’t be taken into consideration.

Again, it’s as if Dallas can read his mind, or if anything she can see the worry in his eyes. She takes his hand and squeezes it tight.

“It’ll be alright.”

They are such simple words, but it feels so much better to hear them from her.

“Let’s crack this case.” Eddie smiles back. “Or better; you crack it, and I’ll find us something to eat.”

If Dallas wants to play Sherlock Holmes he’d happily be Watson in the background. Eddie struts out into the small, bombarded kitchen. He hasn’t exactly prioritized the dishes. A frantic search for edibles starts as he continues to ignore the dirty plates and cutlery. But for every cabin he opens he gets more and more disappointed. The fridge is empty. There’s no bread. No beer. Nothing!

In the cupboard over the stove he strikes bingo, almost. A lonely can of Spaghetti-O’s.

“This will do.” Eddie sighs. If he’ll get out of this safe and sound he’ll never eat another can of Spaghetti-O’s in his life. “We’re out of food.” He hollers as he grabs the can and slams the cupboard close.

“Like… out-out?” Dallas calls back.

“Yup.” Eddie takes out a worn enamel pan and turns on the gas on the stove. “Great… I’ll starve before the cops get me.” He mutters. His last meal will be canned soup with pasta O’s.

Under continuous muttering he finds himself a wooden spatula in a drawer and drops it into the pan, cracks the can open and turns it upside down over the pan. Sloppily he swirls it around until it starts to boil. In a cupboard he finds the last clean deep plate in the house for Dallas; he himself might as well eat straight from the pot, so he pours half of the soup into the plate and leaves the other half in the pot.

With the hot plate in one hand and the pot in the other he hurries out into the living room. Miss Sherlock Haze is still deeply sunken in the web of red lines and names. The poor marker is soon to be long gone as she has twirled it around a strand of her hair.

“Here, eat.” Eddie puts her plate down on the table and plops down on the couch, while shoving Spaghetti-O’s into his mouth. “Come here. Better eat when it’s warm.”

From his spot he can watch her shift weight from one side to the other, while she scribbles down names, theories and question marks. Mostly it’s the latter.

“Hopefully the others can fill in the gaps.” Dallas says while taking a spoonful of soup, putting it in her mouth.

She turns around, puts the plate on the table again and crashes into the couch next to him. As she does, she reaches her arms towards the ceiling and stretches. Immediately, like if she’d revealed a Batman lantern, Eddie’s eyes are drawn to her tee. She didn’t put on the bra. She doesn’t wear a bra. Quickly, Eddie shifts his gaze away and swallows.

“What the heck are they doing anyway?”

“I… have no idea.” Eddie replies, glancing at her in the corner of his eye. She’s so pretty. “Ehm, your food’s getting cold.”

Dallas turns her head and looks at him, without saying a word. She has a peculiar, sneaky twinkle in her eyes. Did she notice him staring? Her incredible hair dances around her face whatever move she makes, like it has its own rhythm and soul. For a moment they just look at each other. Eddie swallows his mouthful of Spaghetti-O’s, feeling it as if his pumping heart makes the whole couch bounce with the beat of it. His body feels warm and tingly. Would it be wrong to kiss her now, Eddie reasons with himself, while he wets his lips with his tongue.

Then it's as if they are drawn to each other like magnets, into frenzy, wet kissing. It’s a miracle he manages to put the enamel pot on the coffee table without causing a messy accident.

The familiar surge of yearning surges through Eddie’s hands as they come to rest on her face and neck, when his tongue pries in between Dallas’ lips. She replies the messy kiss eagerly, clutching at the fabric in his shirt to pull him closer, pressing him against her soft body and drags him with her backwards, down on the couch.

“The radio’s turned off, right?” Dallas gasps, tugging on the washed out Hellfire-print.

Eddie cuts her off by pressing his lips to hers in a sloppy, hungry kiss.

“We’ll think about that later.” He whispers.

In all honesty, he doesn’t give a damn right now. If the others happen to hear that’s their problem.

“Weren’t you hungry?” Dallas smiles towards his lips.

“Not for food.”

In one motion he drags the shirt over his head and throws it on the floor. He can’t resist smiling as he sees how Dallas’ eyes twinkles like a starry night and the corners of her mouth turns into a rapturous smile at the sight of his bare torso. Breathing heavily, she caresses his bare chest, tracing his happy trail with the tip of her finger, towards the belt buckle.

Her upper teeth sinks into her lower lip as she hooks her finger under the buckle and tugs at it slightly, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

Eddie won’t keep her waiting; it’s tempting, seeing her lose it in front of his eyes, but he’s neither sinister or able to be that restrained in this heated moment. He wants her as much as she seems to want him, an intoxicating realization.

While he fumbles with his belt and zippers, Dallas wrangles out of her jeans and kicks them away through the living room. The unmistakable sound of a lamp toppling somewhere behind his back makes him grin wide and raise his eyebrow at her.

“Well aimed, milady.” He says softly, hooks his arm around her neck and pulls her up in a sitting position.

Dallas pulls the white t-shirt over her head and Eddie watches in awe when her breasts pop out in all their glory. The long scar runs like a canyon in between. It looks more like a battle scar than ever.

Knowing exactly what kind of sensation he wants to cause her, Eddie begins to fondle her breasts, whereupon his lips start to kiss her exposed skin, up and down the scar, then find one of her nipples and starts to suck on it.

“Oh, Eddie.”

Her head falls back and she purrs with delight. Her fingers run through his hair, gripping it as his tongue swirls around the stiff, wondrous button and causes him to moan and grind himself towards her.

Carefully he lowers her back down on the couch, releases his mouth from her breast and pulls her panties off.

With the help of his tongue he wets his fingers, and grunts as he places the tips towards her bud and carefully lets them glide around the magical spot. Dallas shuts her eyes and her breathing gets heavy and more vivacious, something between breathing and moaning. She’s glistening with arousal and with a throbbing erection he continues to carefully rub her clit, before he moves on, down between her soaked folds. Dallas gasps as he thrusts two of his ring clad fingers inside her tight entrance.

Eddie can feel her pussy tighten around him as he, knuckles-deep inside of her, curls his fingers against the spot that makes her thighs quiver.

“Oh- fuuuck.”

Her entire body radiates that she doesn’t want him to stop massaging her pussy, arching her back and squirm by his hand as he fucks her at the perfect pace that sets her nerves on fire.

“Oh my god- Eddie, I’m gonna cum!”

He won’t prevent her from doing so. Instead he intensifies the pace on instinct. He can feel her clit throb against the palm of his hand and the tension tighten in her stomach as every little muscle inside of her clench as she, completely lost in pleasure, reaches her climax.

“Watching you is-” Eddie pants, then whistles to make a point. “Wild.”

“Your fingers are wild.” Dallas sighs and supports herself with her elbow. She hooks her finger into the hem of his boxers. “The rumor about guitarists might be true, after all.”

“What’s that?” Eddie asks while he removes the boxers.

On still shaky legs, Dallas throws her right leg over his lap and straddles him majestically, a sight that would tempt even the most duteous choirboy into sinning.

“Dexterity.” She smiles at his reaction. “You like what you see?”

“You have no idea.” Eddie gasps and pulls her towards him and starts to kiss, suck and nibble on her neck. “You’re crazy.”

Satisfied with the answer, Dallas grabs a firm hold around his cock, pumps it up and down before placing it at the entrance of her wet, warm pussy. A hand underneath his cheek forces Eddie to remove his mouth from her neck. Slowly, without breaking eye contact with him for a second, Dallas sinks down over him. Eddie’s choked gasp turns into a delighted moan when his cock disappears into her completely.

“Oh my god!” Eddie’s hips buckle up desperately, eagerly wanting to go even deeper. He’s never been ridden before in his life.

Slowly, while Dallas puts her hands on his shoulder and neck, she starts to grind on his lap, causing Eddie’s eyes to roll back into his skull and his hands to clasp around her thighs. As she increases the pace and then starts to bounce, he almost sees a sky full of stars in front of his eyes.

“You like it?” She pants breathlessly, unable to stop smiling at his reaction. “Hell yeah…” Eddie puts his hands up on each side of her face, looking her straight in the eyes. “Don’t stop. Fuck, don’t stop.” He pleads.

He’s not sure how much longer he’ll last if she keeps doing this sorcery, but he doesn’t want her to stop doing it either; she fucks like a goddamn hurricane and he’s happily swept along for the ride, but how long he’ll last on this pace is something else.

Convulsively he grabs her hips and helps her bounce, slamming her warm body down over his cock. He can feel it, the grand finale, coming closer as the surge gets harder to restrain as Dallas’ inner walls start to tremble violently.

“Oh god- Eddie I’m- I’m coming!” Dallas whimpers and buries her face in his shoulder.

Eddie holds onto her thighs hard and prickles up every sense in his body to be able to handle the experience of Dallas Haze unrestrained riding herself, and him for that matter, to orgasm. He lets go of every attempt to hold back, pants and groans when the orgasm hits him as powerful as a roaring avalanche.

"Christ, Daise, fuck...”

From his mouth a loud groan rises as he releases himself inside of her. Instinctively he squeezes his eyes shut and slams his hips into hers repeatedly, eager to elongate every ounce of pleasure for them both that he’s capable of.

“Haah… aahh…” Eddie gasps and his head falls back against the couch backrest. He slows down, then stops and just feels the tingling aftermath of really fucking good sex. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

In reply he gets something in between a chuckle and a moan as Dallas throws her long mane out of her flushed face and looks down at him dizzily.

“Uhu.” Heavily panting as if he’s just ran a marathon, while sweat trickles down his forehead, Eddie stares up at her with wide eyes and a slack jaw, lips parted so he can get enough oxygen.

This is a view he could get used to.

Dallas POV:

In wonder, while running her hands through his soft curls, Dallas takes in the pretty face next to hers. He really is something else, she thinks while shifting her gaze down to his soft, full lips.

They’re lying squeezed together on the couch underneath a blanket, still somewhat out of breath.

“You believe me now?” Dallas asks.

The back of Eddie’s finger runs down her cheek and he gives her a smile that causes her toes to curl. Jeez, she’s floored, totally fucking bedazzled with him and his insanely brown eyes.

“Mhm.” He nods down at her. “That was… wild. Epic.”

An evaluation as good as any; she could definitely scribble it down on her grade card without blinking.

Dallas Daisy Haze; mathematics - average (thanks to dad pretending to be her); English - impressive; science - could do better; PE - can slam a 180 pound dude in a bathing suit into the floor; music - won a radio rock band competition which should explain it all; carnal knowledge - epic!

Dallas smirks and adjusts, nudging herself closer to Eddie’s warm, soft naked body.

“You called me Daise.”

“Huh?” Eddie’s eyes flicker. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that.”

“It’s okay. I kind of liked it.” Quickly she raises a warning finger. “Don’t make it a habit though.”

“Whatever you say, milady.”

To her surprise, Eddie starts to hum faintly. The outer parts of her lips curl upward when she realizes that the lazily hummed tune is REO Speedwagon’s putting each and every rock chic’s heart on fire-rock ballad “Can’t fight this feeling” while plucking with a strand of her hair.

“I didn’t know dungeon masters knew cheesy epic rock ballads?”

“They don’t.” Eddie replies.

“I must be dreaming then.”

Eddie leans in and glues his lips towards hers. His kiss is messy and sloppy, with more teeth than lips, but it’s still the hottest thing Dallas’ experienced, one of many in the recent half an hour.

“Nah, no dream.” He whispers. “And I do have a radio in my van.”

The fiery bundle of desire and yearning Dallas feels for Eddie Munson that’s wrapped up somewhere between her torso and her toes sends signals to the brain that if they continue like this she’ll have to straddle him like a cowboy on a rodeo again and race herself to at least two more orgasms. There doesn’t seem to be an end to her appetite.

It’s her stomach that’s interrupting her steamy thought of begging Eddie to live up to the sobriquet “the freak” Munson. She’s hungry. Very hungry.

“How about that soup?” Dallas interrupts the kissing. “Or else I’ll pass out.”

“Then I’ll just kiss you back to life.” Eddie places another wet kiss on her mouth. “Like that sleepy lady in that movie.”

It’s tempting, but as her stomach growls out loud, round two has to wait.

Once again, like when they awoke earlier, they start to sort out the scattered clothes and get dressed before they return to the lukewarm Spaghetti-O’s. Physical activities really make you hungry. Between chewing, Dallas’ eyes wander to the radio on the dinner table. Why haven’t they stayed in touch? Maybe it’s broken?

“Are there any batteries in that thing?”

While scooping up the last drops of soup, she watches as Eddie kicks himself off the couch and grabs the walkie-talkie from the table.

“Of course it is!” He exclaims with his mouth full of Spaghetti-O’s.

“You’ve checked?”

In response Eddie holds up a middle finger her way with a wry smile, leaving out a verbal answer; maybe out of teasingness or if it’s because his nerves have started to go through his skin. Her own nerves have started to feel restless. She puts her plate away and glances through her bangs at Eddie as he paces the living room with the pan in one hand, while he continues to converse to the silent radio he’s holding in the other.

”Dustin, can you hear me?”

“There’s no one there.” Dallas repeats.

“Dustin? Earth to Dustin?”

To both hers and Eddie’s great surprise, the radio crackles and a raspy voice is heard through the radio-speaker. But it’s not Dustin.

“Hey, it’s Nancy.”

Wide eyed and with gaping mouths, Dallas and Eddie stare at each other in confusion, before Eddie regains his composure, points at her and mimes “I told you”. But it’s clear that they’re both thinking the same thing; What is Nancy Wheeler doing on the radio?

“Wheeler? Hey!” Eddie pipes up instantly, eyes wide in excitement by the response on the other line.

“Nancy?” Dallas furrows her brows and climbs out of the sunken couch. “Nancy, is that you?”

“Dallas?” The voice asks back.

“Oh my god-” Dallas smiles wide in surprise. “Mystery Inc. has recruited Nancy Drew!”

“So yeah, listen. We’re gonna need a food delivery soon or else we’re gonna starve.” Eddie glances over at Dallas. “Unless you want us going out into the world?”

“No, no!” Nancy is quick to reply. “Don’t do that.”

“Yeah, also-” Eddie continues. “-can you pick up a six-pack also? I know, it’s shit, drinking right now, but… A couple of cold beers would really calm my nerves.”

Dallas gives him a punch on the arm. In the background, even though the quality of the crackling radio isn’t exactly Hi-Fi, they can hear noises and other voices.

“Was that yawning?” Dallas intervenes, before Eddie starts to make more demands. “Did you sleep?”

Now Dallas’ sure she hears other voices, followed by an ‘ouch’ and a thud; someone’s been awoken by a fist punch at the arm.

“Is it Eddie?” Someone asks.

“We’ve done some investigation.” Nancy replies, not taking notice of the question behind her.

”All night.” They hear someone yawn loudly in the back.

”Who’s that?” Eddie asks.

”Lucas.” Nancy replies.

”Sinclair!” Eddie exclaims.

“Eddie!” Lucas Sinclair’s voice grows stronger inside the speaker as he moves closer to the radio on the other side. “Listen, Jason’s after you. He’s on the warpath, for real. They all are.”

Dallas and Eddie look worried at each other.

“Yeah we sort of got that impression too, Sinclair.” Eddie replies into the speaker. “Good to have you on board, by the way.”

“Eddie, I’m so, so sorry-”

“Hey guys!” Dustin shouts on the other end. ”How are you doing?”

“We-” Dallas looks at Eddie, who shakes his head over Dustin Henderson’s impulsiveness. ”-did some brainstorming on our own, you might say.” She throws a glance on the backside of the smiley-poster taped up on the wall, filled with nothing but loose ends. “Please tell us you got something. Anything.”

For a moment both her and Eddie are sure the radio died. Dead silence follows on her plea.

“Hello?” Eddie calls. “Wheeler?”

“There’s been another murder.”

Just what they didn’t want to hear. Anything but that. Dallas swallows, not sure she wants to hear more.

“Fred Benson.”

“Shit…” Eddie whispers. “Where?”

“The highway.” Robin says. “It’s definitely our guy.”

“Vecna.”

“We know, Dustin!” Steve sighs in the background.

“There’s more.” Nancy continues. “Fred and Chrissy both came to Miss Kelley’s counseling. Same symptoms. Headaches, nightmares, nosebleeds. Five days apart. It adds up!”

“It’s like an omen.”

Dallas deep dives into her head. Headaches. Chrissy had complained about headaches. She had looked a lot more tired than usual, but Dallas thought it was nerves and the pre-spring break tiredness kicking in early.

“Oh my god.” Dallas whispers and stares at Eddie. “That’s it!” She exclaims. “The motive!”

”She didn’t dare to tell anyone-” Max says.

”Because the symptoms were too common for trauma.” Dallas fills in. “That’s why she went to see Miss Kelley.”

”She couldn’t have known.” Max says on the other end. “Just like Fred.”

“Not until it was too late.” Dallas lets out in a sigh. “You think there’s others? I mean, how many goes to see Miss Kelley on a regular basis? That’s… many.”

They go quiet again.

“What is it? What is it you don’t tell us?”

“Vecna’s next victim.” Max says monotonous. “It’s me. I’ve got all the symptoms.”

One could hear a needle drop to the floor. Undoubtedly they heard right. Max is next. One of theirs is the next victim.

”The rest’s… pretty unclear.” Nancy says. “We’re hoping to get some answers today.”

“How?”

”We’re going to Pennhurst. We think someone named Victor Creel might be able to help us.” Nancy tells, but she doesn’t sound entirely convinced. “It’s a loose end, but that’s all we got.”

“Pennhurst, as in THE Pennhurst?” Eddie asks in disbelief. “As in THE asylum?!” He clenches his jaw and closes his eyes. “Fuck…”

“We think it might be a lead.”

If that’s all they got, to put their faith in a locked up lunatic, Dallas understands Eddie’s frustrated reaction. As Eddie sighs deeply and tries to collect himself, doing a great job not punching holes in the walls, Dallas snaps the radio out of his hand.

“I really don’t wanna rush anything here, guys.” She says in a low tone into the radio. “But-” She cuts herself off at the sight of Eddie, pacing the room.

It’s not about rushing anything. You can’t rush trying to find a needle in a haystack. This will have to take the time it’ll take. They’re dealing with supernatural things, and the group on the other side of the radio has -regardless of how surreal it all is- been through similar oddities before, plus and minus a girl with superpowers.

How little patience Eddie and Dallas have doesn’t matter if the others don’t get to do their thing, regardless if that means going to a mental asylum in search of clues. Whatever it takes to keep Eddie alive and hidden, Dallas thinks. That’s what she has to focus on. In the corner of her eyes she watches the curly haired metalhead that has planted a swarm of butterflies in her stomach.

She lost Chrissy, she can’t lose Eddie too.

“If you think it’ll give you answers…” Dallas whispers into the radio. “Just… fix this. And be careful. You hear me?”

“You too. We’ll stay in touch.”

“Yeah.”

The radio goes quiet. Dallas and Eddie look at each other. All of a sudden the situation has become even more strained. Max is in danger, another murder has happened, they’re hungry and the others are way too busy right now to act as food delivery service.

“I’ll get us some food. I won’t just sit here and starve.” Dallas gets up and rips her jacket from a chair.

The frustration causes her to feel claustrophobic.

“What?” Eddie scoffs with eyes big as basketballs. “What if someone sees you? You said it yourself, you just ran out the door without telling anyone. You don’t think you’re wanted too, missy?”

“Better me than you, right?” Dallas shrugs and threads her arms into the jacket. “I’ll just be careful, try not to be seen. Like Frodo!” She nods convincingly. “I’ll get you some clean clothes too, if you want? maybe even a six-pack?”

“You’re trying to bribe me with beer, Haze?”

“As I said, better me than you.” Dallas repeats. “I’ll get a lift into town and take the bike back. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

Eddie looks like he wants to protest. Dallas knows that there’s at least a dozen things that could go horribly wrong, but her ability to stay positive and radiate confidence right now is vital.

“Fine.” Eddie says reluctantly, pressing his lips together.

“Good.” Dallas nods. “You just… stay hidden. You know, the usual.”

They decide that Eddie shall hide in the boathouse until she returns. Even though the area around Lovers Lake seems to be desolated, they can’t be too careful. If anyone happens to see her sneak out of the house and if they decided to check it out, they wouldn’t be able to find Eddie.

“I’ll be back soon.” Dallas says reassuringly as she puts her hand on the front door handle. “I promise.”

“Yep.”

“Stay hidden, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. In the boathouse. Got it.” Eddie replies and turns around, to walk towards the back door. But he lingers. “Be careful, Haze.”

Dallas nods. As Eddie, reluctantly, tears his eyes from her and turns around, Dallas holds her breath, opens the door and steps out on the porch. Carefully she closes it before she runs across the road, up on the bank on the other side and into the naked vegetation. Better to walk through the woods for a while and then get down on the open road again. As long as she’s as far away from the cabin as possible before anyone sees her.

It has become a little warmer in the air, but the early spring is still reminding itself by its brown colors surrounding Dallas where she strides on through the vegetation until she declares the distance from the cabin far enough. Then she heads out from the woods, toward the highway and climbs up on the road and starts to walk along it.

No cars in sight, but soon the familiar sound of rubber against tarmac is heard and a car brakes in next to her. With crossed fingers, desperately praying that it won’t be an icky creep or someone wanting to kidnap her, Dallas bends down and looks into the car. A woman in her thirties with an impressive perm rolls down the window and looks back out at her. Her eyelashes are gunked up with black mascara and she smiles.

“Do you need a ride?”

“I’m going to Hawkins.” Dallas explains, while digging her hands deeper into the satin coated pockets of her biker jacket.

“So are we. Hop in!” She smiles. “It’s ok.” She adds reassuringly and bobs her curly hair towards the backseat. “It’s just the three of us.”

Dallas opens the door and looks into the car. In the backseat two kids are strapped up in their car seats. Two boys wearing matching corduroy jackets and Indiana Pacers caps. They observe her under silence as Dallas slides into the passenger seat and closes the door.

A mom with a perm that would make Whitney Huston green with envy and two kids can’t be a serial killer, she decides and buckles up. Live a little, right?

“What’s your name?” The woman asks as she lets the car roll out on the road again.

“Dallas.” Dallas replies.

“Nice to meet you. This is Peter and Adam.” The woman nods her head backwards to the boys, still not uttering a noise. “I’m Pamela.”

In reply, not sure how much they should get acquainted with one another during this short ride into town, Dallas nods politely, pretending to listen. In reality she repeats the route she’s laid out for herself in her head; she’s gonna get back to Hawkins, go home, get some food and clean clothes and get her ass back to the cabin without anyone seeing her. Piece of cake, right?

“Why were you out on the road?” “Huh, what?”

Pamela with the perm looks concerned as she glances in her direction, twisting her hands nervously at the steering wheel.

“You shouldn’t be out here on your own.” She replies and shifts her gaze back towards the road ahead. “Especially not now. It’s really dangerous.”

“Yeah. I know.” Dallas lies, without explaining herself further. Better not to say anything than entwine herself in a complicated lie.

“Where are you going?” Pamela turns and looks at her again. “I mean, where should I take you?”

“The Video Store.” Dallas says. “Downtown. I’ve left my bike there.”

“Okay.” Pamela nods, making her stiff curls bounce around her face. “It’s horrible, all that’s happening.”

It’s even worse than you think, Dallas thinks to herself and glances at Pamela who once again has turned her eyes back on the road.

They remain silent the rest of the drive into town, letting the radio drain out the motor sound and the lack of talking. The kids in the backseat soften up and when they cruise into Hawkins Dallas and the boy behind her are spoofing with each other, sticking their tongues out at each other in the side mirror. Who said soon to be 18-year olds has to act all grown up?

When Pamela stomps her foot on the brakes in front of the Video Store, Dallas thanks her for the ride and climbs out.

“Be careful now!” Pamela says before Dallas closes the door behind her.

If Pamela only knew. Dallas waves at her and the boys when they drive away, leaving her alone in the parking lot. She spins around and looks with gratitude at her bike, the great zoomer, still standing where she left it. Quickly and slightly bent over in a meek attempt to prevent anyone from seeing her, Dallas unlocks the chain-cable, wraps it around the pole, jumps onto her faithful ride and kicks away.

The chilly air quickly finds its way into her open jacket and Dallas increases her speed as she hurtles down the street. It’s surprisingly deserted. No wonder, when there’s an outbreak of satanic panic. When she has to stop at a crossroad to let a truck pass, a couple walks past on the sidewalk and Dallas can’t unhear their conversation.

“I heard the eulogy for the Cunningham girl was today.”

“Hope they’ll catch the monster who did it.”

Dallas’ heart drops and for a matter of seconds it feels like she’s going to faint. The harsh reality once again strikes ruthlessly. It’s the day of Chrissy’s eulogy and Dallas’ isn’t there. But she has more important things to do than attend. She’s trying to solve this murder case and clear Eddie Munson’s name for christ sake!

Dallas’ brain works impressively fast as she stands there with one foot on the ground and the other on the pedal. Quickly, she makes a U-turn and rides the opposite way. Drastic change of plans! There is something else she has to do before she heads home.

A few minutes later Dallas gets off her bike at Breakwater Drive. From where she stands at the quiet curb, looking up at the dark and deserted colonial house, it looks haunted. An eerie feeling crawls up the back of her neck. But the decision has been made. She won’t back out of it now.

Determined, Dallas leans her bike against the mailbox pole and walks up the paved walkway leading up to the front door, standing between its white tall columns. But she takes off to the right, scurries past the dense, neatly cut bushes and runs around to the back of the house.

Only a real dumbass would think of breaking in through the main entrance door.

With her gaze directed upwards as she walks along the breakfast room, a small protruding part of the kitchen with tall windows where the Cunningham’s eat their breakfast, Dallas searches for the drainpipe closest to Chrissy’s window pair. She has glided down and climbed up that specific pipe at least a dozen times by now, escaping Chrissy’s room or entering it without having to ring the doorbell and dribble her way past Mrs. Cunningham.

Dallas finds ‘her’ drainpipe and looks around to make sure no one sees her, before she starts to climb up the cold metal. The worn out rubber soles on her Chuck’s glides towards the brick surface.

“Lousy, shitty… shoes.” She grunts.

Thank god she’s got a good portion of strength in her upper body from throwing around Hawkins High’s team of champion baboons.

With sheer arm strength and grit, Dallas pulls herself up the pipe, while her feet 'walks' up the wall. When she reaches the roof, she takes a steady hold and lifts herself onto the sloping tiles. There she stops for a while and catches her breath, making sure that no neighbors are standing in their windows watching her. Nope. No housewives gaping inside their houses at the sight of the potential burglar on the roof, ready to throw themselves on the speed dial-button straight to 9-1-1.

Dallas turns and looks at Chrissy’s bedroom windows. Dark and closed, but she knows by experience that Chrissy never locks it, just so Dallas could come visit whenever she felt like. There’s no exception now. Carefully she pushes the window up. The sheer curtain inside flutters in the breeze as the soft, but chilly wind creeps into the dark room. Dallas swings her legs into the window opening and jumps down on the soft carpet inside. The scent that surrounds her is like an emotional gut punch. The soft, floral scent of Chrissy’s perfume, the warm smell of vanilla from the fabric softener, the variety of scented candles and the faint, but piquant hint of lemon from cleaning detergent. A jumble of fragrances that together has etched into Dallas' nose as something familiar, but now only causing her heartache.

“Pull yourself together, Haze.” Dallas whispers to herself.

Purposefully, she moves through the bedroom towards the dresser. Her eyes are strictly fixed on the closed jewelry box. Automatically, from the top drawer on the left, underneath hair brushes and a bunch of scrunchies, she takes the small key and unlocks the jewelry box. From it she takes the emerald green jewelry case, the one with the thin, golden frame on the lid.

Dallas makes a move, in an attempt to leave. But she hesitates, even though she damn well knows that she should get the hell out of there as soon as she can. But something is holding her back, preventing her feet from moving. If Dallas leaves now, she will never come back here, she knows that. Mrs. Cunningham would rather eat her own face than allow Dallas into their house. If only for a moment, she wants to stay here, to feel close to the only thing she has left of Chrissy. Although Chrissy felt like a prisoner in her own home, the room was her sanctuary. A bright, sunny, happy place where Dallas and Chrissy dreamt up future plans and adventures together in secrecy from Mrs. Cunningham.

She looks down at the small jewelry case in her hands, strokes it gently over the slightly grooved lid. Slowly she walks over to the perfectly made bed and sits down on top of the covers. With her heart stuck in her throat and tears sweltering behind her eyes, she opens it. The small, crossed silver arrows glisten even though the room is dark. They decided together that they wanted the arrows. Friendship hearts simply felt too childish. They would put them on at graduation. Chrissy had already gotten a necklace from her parents at the start of the semester, ‘86’ in golden numbers as a symbol of her graduation year, but Chrissy had ensured Dallas that she wasn’t intending to wear it after they’d graduated.

“It’s just another year, right?” Chrissy said.

The dainty arrows symbolized a new beginning as well as their friendship. Now they’re all Dallas has left of what she and Chrissy had. Shattered dreams encapsulated into two small arrows made of silver.

Dallas caves in, falls down on the bed next to a stuffed teddy bear and lets all of it, the anger, the sadness, the anxiety gush out in a painful tidal wave of grief. Like a wounded animal she howls down into the pillows, inhales Chrissy’s scent as she gasps for air.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” She cries, pressing the emerald green jewelry case towards her chest. “I’m so sorry Chrissy…”

She remains there on the bed until she’s stopped shaking and she has gone out of tears for this time. That’s when she remembers what she has to do. Reluctantly she gets up and dries her tears with the back of her arm. Disoriented and still torn up, she opens the drawer to the bedside table and takes out Chrissy’s diary. She won’t read it, but she can’t let Chrissy’s mom get that piece of Chrissy too.

“I’ll fix this.” Dallas whispers out into the room before she leaves the Cunningham residence the way she came and runs to her bike.

She squeezes the diary into the back hem of her jeans and straddles the bike frame; there is no time to lose, so she starts pedaling for all she’s worth. Hopefully mom, dad and jack are at the eulogy and won’t be home bothering her.

Back at her own house Dallas throws the bicycle on the front lawn and runs around to the kitchen entrance. The house looks dark and quiet. Carefully, she unlocks the door and sneaks inside, quickly determining that no one is home. They must be at the eulogy. Without turning the lights on she runs up the stairs and into the bathroom. She takes a quick shower, changes clothes, hops into her trusty pair of docs instead -if she has to climb another drainpipe- and swallows down her birth control-pill underneath the tap in the bathroom.

In one swift motion, with the help of a lip pencil, Dallas draws a red line over the pill she missed and says a silent prayer that the pill-gods can indulge her carelessness and cut her some slack. To be careful, she puts the pill chart in the inner pocket of her jacket - just in case she’ll be gone longer than expected. From experience she hasn’t much faith in her impulses. What happens happens, and the birds and the bee’s have happened twice since last night!

In Jack’s room she grabs a hold of a pair of fresh boxers and tube socks from his packing - she’s sure Eddie would prefer to “borrow” her brother’s undies rather than her dad’s.

While combing her fingers through her damp hair, Dallas scurries downstairs. There’s no time for styling and blow drying in the business of solving crimes and hiding fugitives.

In the entrance hall she grabs her school backpack and turns it upside down on the hall mat. She throws Jack’s boxers into it and collects some spare change from the bowl on the hall dresser.

While making sure that she has some extra money in the outer compartment of the backpack, she hurries into the kitchen where she starts to gather what she can find in the pantry that can work as emergency-food; Snickers bars, a pack of Oreos and two cans of Progresso Vegetable soup.

As Dallas is in the process of emptying the fridge, placing an unopened packet of orange juice in her backpack, she freezes as the ominous rustle of keys resounds and the back door opens. S-h-i-t!

The next moment, mom’s standing in the kitchen. She jumps at the sight of Dallas, lets out a surprised exclamation and puts her hand towards her chest.

“Oh my- DALLAS!”

“Mom!”

For a moment they just stare at each other in silence, accompanied by the low humming of the refrigerator. Dallas’ feet are frozen to the linoleum.

Mom’s dressed in her black funeral dress, the one she wore when grandpa was put to rest in 12 feet of dirt, and her eyes are slightly swollen from crying. Even though the timing couldn’t be worse, Dallas’ can’t help but feel a teeny-tiny bit relieved that mom didn’t come home to see her BEFORE the shower; her tousled hair standing in every direction, unwashed and dressed in two or three-days old clothes and without a bra.

The sound volume’s intensely upped as mom collects herself from the surprise of her daughter’s return home.

“Where in god’s name have you been?!”

Dallas remains silent for a moment, as her head is desperately working to find an answer, or a lie, good enough. Telling mom the truth is not an option.

“I’m fine-” Dallas attempts, but to try and get in between mom’s scolding words is like attempting to pocket park a truck in a single car-pocket.

“You left without a word! Right after we got the news that Chrissy-” Mom’s voice breaks and she takes a deep breath, still pointing her finger towards the entrance. Tears start to build up in her already red eyes. “We thought- I don't know what we thought! You were gone! We called the police, Dallas!”

“Wha- no, mom-”

“Your dad and Jack have been out looking for you! Grandma’s been worried sick!” Mom inhales and continues. “You didn’t call us, you didn’t come home. You expect us to think that’s fine! Especially when some lunatic is killing teenagers in town?!”

“Look I-” Dallas mumbles. “I AM fine-”

“And- OH MY GOD IS THAT A HICKEY!” Mom takes a step forward and pulls the hair away from Dallas’ neck and gasps loudly. “Jesus, Joseph and Mary- WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN!?”

Son of a b- he did a fucking hickey, Dallas thinks to herself and curses Eddie Munson and his amazing mouth.

Quickly she pulls away and covers her throat with her hand, but the damage is already done. Mom’s eyes are close to popping out of her skull and it looks like she’s about to have a heart attack herself. She opens her mouth and closes it like a goldfish, but nothing comes out.

“Nothing.” Dallas lies.

It doesn’t work.

“IT’S A HICKEY, DALLAS!” Mom sputters, fuming with anger. “You just ran out the door without a word and disappeared for… two days!? And then you just… pops up out of nowhere with a HICKEY ON YOUR NECK?! With all that’s happened-” She pauses to take a deep breath, followed by a very disappointed, sad sigh that hits Dallas right in her heart. “Chrissy and that poor Benson boy-“ Mom shakes her head. “THERE’S A MURDERER ON THE LOOSE FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!”

“So?” Dallas mutters abashed, clenching her fists.

She glances at the wall clock. She doesn’t have time for this. There’s so much that she’d like to shout in reply. Things that would explain it all to mom; why she ran, why she hasn’t called or come home. Things that mom wouldn’t understand or wouldn’t believe a word off.

“So?!” Mom shouts. “You are not running around on your own when there’s a maniac killing high school students! Certainly not for days without us knowing where you are and absolutely not coming home with hickeys! That’s what’s ‘SO’, Dallas!”

“What? I’m fine!” Dallas yells and holds out her arms. “Seriously, mom!”

“You expect us to just KNOW that? How? Mind reading?” Mom scoffs and furrows her eyebrows.

“You don’t think I can take care of myself?” Dallas cuts off sharply. “I’m not five years old, mom.”

Mom doesn't answer. For a good while they just stand there glaring at each other under restrained silence. One could hear a needle fall to the floor.

They rarely fight and certainly not like this.

“You’ve changed.”

Here we go. The “you’ve changed”-comment. How many times Dallas’ heard it by now is unclear. Ever since she was discharged from the hospital in Texas after her heart failure and decided that everything about her life would be different, mom’s “you’ve changed” has followed her around like a ghost. Mom couldn’t handle it. Still picking up the pieces from the trauma of losing her daughter and seeing her balance on a knife’s edge between life and death was apparently too much to deal with. Having her also -as soon as it was determined that she was going to recover fully- want to have all the fun she could possibly have was even more. “You’ve changed” followed like a red line through Dallas’ early teenage years and beyond.

“How, mom?” Dallas sighs. ”How exactly have I changed? You always say that but I’ve never understood in what way? You mean since the time I NEARLY died? Cause you know what - I didn’t! I’m alive. Is it really that difficult to get? That I want to experience shit before the next time I die?”

“Dallas-”

“No, mom!” Dallas shouts, feeling an anger rise inside of her that’s been suppressed for a little too long. Like a kettle boiling over. It may be unfair and quite frankly even mean, but she doesn’t have time for this; and certainly not for putting together a polite response. “This time you do NOT get to decide what I am going to do! Chrissy’s dead! And the police are on the wrong lead.”

“Dallas-” Mom takes a step forwards and grabs a hold of Dallas’ hand. Her voice is more pleading now. “Please, talk to me! What is going on with you?!”

“Nothing!” Dallas calls. “Mom, you don’t understand. I’m gonna solve this shitshow. I owe Chrissy that.” Dallas continues and stomps her foot into the floor in pure frustration. “I can’t say more. You gotta trust me!”

Mom’s grip tightens, but her facial expression softens and turns sad. How hard it is, Dallas can’t tell what’s going on. Mom would never believe her and Eddie would be in even greater danger than he already is. She can’t trust mom, not this time.

If she knew what Dallas was involved in she would chain Dallas to the radiator and watch her like a hawk; years and years of overprotection and fear of losing her only daughter cannot be dispelled just like that. But Dallas gotta try.

“Mom I love you but this is something I have to do. Please trust me.”

Mom could refuse. She could refuse to let go of Dallas’ hand by holding on to it even harder. But for some reason she doesn’t. It’s not without force that Dallas has to release herself from mom’s grip, but she gets out of it and backs away, so mom doesn’t clasps her arms around hers in an impossible lock grip.

“Dallas…” Mom looks desperate, angry and sad. “Dallas?”

Silent tears have started to stream down her cheeks and she bites into her lower lip hard. Will she explode? Or collapse on the floor?

“I have to go. You will understand, I promise. Just not… now.” Dallas says before she turns and runs out of the kitchen, out of the house and towards her bike.

Behind her she hears mom call for her. The heart aches in Dallas’ chest underneath the tee and biker jacket and her throat stings from suppressed crying. Mom will understand. When all this is over and Eddie’s name has been cleared, and Chrissy’s death has been solved, she WILL understand!

Without looking back Dallas starts to pedal. Irated at herself for letting guilt clasp around her heart like a weakling, she begins to cry again. The bike whizzes past parked cars, road crossings and trees rustling like tambourines in the wind. Most of all, Dallas thinks about Jack. Fuck, she should’ve at least tried to contact him. He could’ve talked to mom and dad, or at least say that she was alright. He would understand, she is convinced of that.

Outside Bradley’s Big Buy she stumbles off the bike, leans it against the shop window and hurries inside. On autopilot, she rushes around the aisles and picks up bread, peanut butter and a six-pack. As she’s about to turn around, she bumps into someone.

“Oh, sorry I-” The words get stuck on the way out of her mouth as she sees who she has run into.

Wayne Munson.

“No worries.”

They look at each other. His face is furrowed and his hair is thinning. At first glance he looks stern and sullen, but when she dares to meet his gaze, his eyes look sad. Dallas swallows hard. Here he is, without knowing what happened to his nephew that he clearly has a strong bond to, the closest thing Eddie has to a parent. Should she say something?

“Yeah.” She manages to push forward a faint smile. “I- I’m sorry about…” The words get stuck in her mouth. “I gotta go.”

Without looking back at Mr. Munson, Dallas hurries in the direction of the cash register. She feels like she’s going to throw up. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Just as with mom, the chances of her tattling would endanger Eddie even more.

With a stabbing pain of anxiety on the right side of her chest, Dallas drops the goods on the counter. The cashier, a twenty-something guy with a face stained with acne-scars and eyes as red as the irritated pimple that it looks like he’s spent a good few minutes trying to pop, watches her lazily. Slowly he starts to scan as Dallas looks around, hoping she won’t run into someone else she knows, or the cops.

“That’s 7,52.”

Without meeting his baked gaze, afraid to get second-handedly high by his red eyes, Dallas hollers up some dollar bills and puts them down on the checkout counter.

“Keep the change.” She says.

“You wanna go to a party?”

“Eh, no.” Dallas looks up and frowns.

“Cool.” He nods and starts to collect the bills. “That’s… awesome.”

“You high or something?” Dallas throws the bread down her backpack.

Could this day get any worse?

The stoner-cashier shrugs.

“Maybe.” He admits. “You wanna make out behind the trash bins then? I’d give you the fiver back if you say yes.”

Dallas grimaces.

“Ew!”

“Ey, that’s not nice.” He replies. ”I have a way with girls.” 

“Hm.”

Sure, and pigs can fly? Dallas sends off a smile that feels a lot more like a grimace. She suspects his way with women is to make them run screaming in the opposite direction. Quickly she collects the six-pack and hurries out of the store before she runs into Wayne Munson again or the cashier starts to make more icky suggestions.

On her way out of town, she makes one last pitstop.

The street outside the funeral home it’s calm and quiet when Dallas hits the brakes and puts her feet down on the curb on the other side of the road. The sun is on its way down. When she’ll be back at Lovers Lake it will be dark. From her spot underneath a broken street light, she can see into the wide open double doors.

There’s some stragglers left inside, all dressed in black with bowed heads and stern expressions on their faces. A photo of Chrissy is standing straight ahead in the corridor at the front. Chrissy is smiling back at her in her cheerleader uniform from the enlarged portrait, placed on a black easel at the front of the podium. Dallas would’ve preferred if they’d picked a different picture. Chrissy was so much more than the head cheerleader of a mediocre high school basketball team; more than the green and orange; more than ‘go team’ and crazy-ass deadly jumps. She was the star of the show without a doubt, but she was also the kindest, funniest and most compassionate friend one could have, with the entire world at her feet. The cheerleading part was just a small portion, a side note in Chrissy’s life, if only it hadn’t ended so quickly.

It’s for you Chris, Dallas thinks and squeezes the handles on the bike, while swallowing hard and pushing another gush of tears back into her tear ducts. She’ll have to save them for later.

“I will make this right for you Chris.” Dallas whispers.

With one last look into the funeral home and the portrait, Dallas puts her foot on the pedal and kicks off from the side of the curb, heading back towards Lovers Lake.

Eddies POV:

*Clonk*

The velvety smooth surface of the chestnut hits the rusty soup can and drops to the bottom of it with a ringing sound. Two points! He’s figured out a very simple point system; One point if it hits the rim of the can, two points if it’s a solid, clean hit and minus one point if he misses. In his hand he’s got four more chestnuts. Soon he’ll have to crawl around the floorboards to collect them again.

As soon as Dallas went out the front door and ran over the road, Eddie turned and snuck out the back door and into the boathouse. As he closed the door behind him of the drafty building the feeling of déjà vu hit from his first night out there.

He’d abandoned his van at a desolated, overgrown parking lot to a walking trail about 1,5 miles away from the cabin. He’d parked there lots of times before, after leaving Rick’s place to sleep the haze off before going back home to Wayne. For a while he sat there, just hyperventilating and trying to get a grip around the situation. Of course at that point that was completely impossible, so instead he broke down in tears against the steering wheel. As soon as he’d calmed down somewhat he climbed out of the van, locked it with trembling fingers and started to walk in the direction of Rick’s place. The decision to head to Rick’s house happened instinctively; he knew he’d be alone out there since Rick had screwed up and got himself locked up again.

*Clonk*

Two more points. Eddie strokes the second chestnut inside his hand. The soft surface has turned warm towards his palm.

Wading through the tangled, overgrown grass in the roadside ditch was an effort in itself, but the fight or flight-reaction kept him going. As he finally arrived, the area around Lovers Lake and the cabin was completely dark and desolate. As always he didn’t have to find some hidden key underneath a garden rock or the door mat; Rick was of the light-hearted opinion that locked doors meant locking out exciting opportunities. Probably that wasn’t what he thought when the police, without knocking, went in and found him on the couch with a considerable amount of weed a few weeks ago.

The house was left just as when he left it; as messy as always. To calm his nerves somewhat, Eddie found Rick’s stash of beer, some food that he could eat raw and snuck out to the boat house.

*Clonk*

A miss. It was also his last chestnut. Now he’s got to crawl around and find them again.

“Son of a…” Eddie sighs and drops back towards the wall.

Resigned, he looks at the radio. Still no word from Henderson or the others. Dallas’ been gone for a few hours, a few more than he’d hoped. His nerves are going wild with anticipation and worry and his stomach growls loudly with hunger.

What if something’s happened to them? What if Vecna’s got Max? What if Wheeler and Buckley’s mission to Penhurst fails? What if Jason finds Dallas, or if her parents put her in house arrest so that she won’t fall victim to Eddie “the freak” Munson?

The excruciating feeling of hopelessness returns, an emotion he hasn’t felt in a few days. It disappeared as Dallas came into the picture and decided to stay with him. Having her here with him made him feel less alone, made him feel better even though the situation hasn’t improved the slightest - on the contrary. Now when she’s gone and he’s alone again with his thoughts and worries, everything gets a dark, dull filter.

“Dustin?” He pleads into the radio, hoping that someone will answer.

All he needs is a minute or two where someone talks back to him, updates him or tells him that they’re doing their best solving this shit show. But no one replies. Just white noise. With a deep sigh he drops his head towards the wall behind him.

“Think positive, goddammit.”

With force, clenching all of his facial muscles, Eddie closes his eyes, searches his mind for positive things to think about. It will be alright. When all this is over it’s gonna be like before, mostly. Hopefully with one, but very large, improvement. Dallas Daisy Haze.

As the heat begins to sprout in his chest, a dark cloud of worry sweeps over his mind as the “what if’s” appears. What if this is it for them? As in approximately 48 hours of total bliss before it runs out into nothing. Letting it all go isn’t an option now; he’s in too deep. He’s gotta tell Dallas how he feels, if that hasn’t already been made clear.

On the other hand she did ask him to go with her to the Van Halen concert and Maiden, but what if that won’t happen either?

“You gotta tell her, Munson.” He spurs himself. “You’re a fool if you don’t. A fool-” He sighs, softly bangs his head against the wall. “-and a coward.”

If anything, he’s gotta tell her before he’s locked up for the rest of his life. That’s what’s gonna happen if Steve, Robin, Max, Dustin and Lucas won’t make any progress with their crazy mission to the asylum.

Again Eddie has to force the fearful thoughts of a small, cold cell and only seeing Wayne though a thick pane away, to prevent himself from losing it completely. He repeats positive things in his life inside his head; game night’s with Hellfire Club, band practice in Gareth’s garage, the gigs at the Hideout, graduating high school, making Wayne damn proud, Dallas, his new acquaintance with Robin, Max, Nancy- he might even consider hanging out with pretty rich-boy Steve Harrington… IF it’s true he’s evolved into less of a douche.

There’s lots of good things to look forward to, things that are worth fighting for. He’s just gotta hold himself together until then.

Eddie flinches and is ripped out of his mindful state when he hears a vehicle approaching. Quickly he ducks under the window, behind the oars leaned up against the wall. Carefully he peeks out of the dirty window. Dallas can't be back yet. Could it be Harrington and the others?

What he sees is a black Cherokee Pioneer parked at the other side of the road from the cabin. Out of the car steps Jason and two of his teammates from the basketball team, wearing black suits, polished shoes and black ties. It strongly resembles a mafia scene, especially the baseball bats in their hands makes Eddie swallow hard with fear.

Why are they here? How the hell did they find out about this place? Someone must’ve blown the gaff about Rick being Eddie’s supplier. It probably wasn’t difficult to figure out. Holding his breath, Eddie watches as the group walks towards the brown house next to the boat house, passing the overgrown, dead flower beds and up to the small, covered porch.

“Shit. Shit…” Eddie mutters.

Crouching, he hurries to the other window, which faces the west side and the rear of the house. He has a bad feeling they won’t leave until they’ve turned the house upside down in search of him or leads on his whereabouts. Feverishly Eddie grabs the radio. They have to come and get him, now!

”Hey, Dustin!” He hisses into the walkie. ”You there?”

No answer. Of course.

”It’s Eddie. You remember me?” Eddie tries into the silent radio, while moving out of sight from the windows. “Hello?”

Still no answer. He feels how panic induced sweat starts to run down his back.

”Hey, if anyone’s there, I really think I might be in a bit of trouble here. Okay?”

Still no answer.

”Wheeler?”

He smacks the radio with the palm of his hand.

”Anybody?!” Eddie implores.

Nobody answers. Eddie rests his forehead towards the speaker, then explodes.

“Son of a bitch!”

In a fit of rage he throws the radio into a pile of sacks and junk. Shaking with frustration he clasps his hands behind his head and paces the boathouse, desperately trying to figure out what to do. But no eureka-moment appears.

With growing concern, he grabs the radio and sneaks up to the window. He can see them move around the house, searching every room and turning on lights. Outside the sun is going down. He doesn’t know how long he sits there, but the next time he looks at his wrist watch, the clock has struck nine and Jason and the others haven’t left. The only source of light beside the lights from Rick’s cabin is the milky white moon, mirroring into the lake and spreading a cool, eerie light over the area. Still he hasn’t caught a sight of Dallas, luckily, and he hasn’t heard a word from the others.

”Dustin?” Eddie repeats for probably the hundredth time. ”Please! Are you there?”

What is he going to do? Should he leave the boathouse, run towards the abandoned car and pray to higher powers that they forgot to take the keys out? Should he flee into the forest? He cannot stay here.

His flickering, desperate gaze lands on the tarp-covered boat. It’s a crazy idea, but what else can he do? He gives the device in his hand once last chance to change his mind, but no sound comes out of it.

“Nevermind.”

With the radio in his hand he hurries over to the boat and rips the tarp from it. Will it hold? He’s never seen Rick use it for anything else than hiding his stash products when he was struck with weed-induced paranoia.

Eddie takes a quick look, searches for holes or signs that indicate that the boat won’t sink as soon as it touches water. But it looks okay. Carefully, he hoists the boat down by its ropes into the water. He grabs one of the ores, jumps down into the boat and releases it from the ropes. Then he puts the ore into the water and starts to paddle from side to side like a canoe.

Once when he was thirteen Wayne took him out canoeing at the Eno river during a weekend camping trip. Besides grilling marshmallows over open fire and sleeping in a tent, reading comics inside his sleeping bag, canoeing was the third best part of the trip. But that was different; that was a real canoe, not a small boat.

Even though he’s stronger now than when he was twelve, it’s fucking hard to make the darn boat move forward. But soon he gets a hang of it. The tricky part is to do it quietly. While doing his best on that part, Eddie repeats his makeshift plan in his mind; he’ll have to paddle ashore on the other side, then run like hell. Where doesn’t mind, as long as he puts as many miles between himself and Jason’s gang as possible. He’ll get in touch with the others sooner or later, hopefully, and Dallas will understand.

He stops to paddle for a brief moment; what about Dallas. He’s about to paddle away from the place where she thinks he is still at, where she left him a couple of hours ago. Dallas will walk right into the hands of Jason and his mates, who won’t look between the fingers of her being out there on her own. Despite her stone cold manner, Eddie has no idea how she handles a stressful and potentially dangerous situation.

”Hey, Freak!”

Eddie’s heart drops in his chest and he turns around. Jason and Patrick are standing at the shore, looking out at him. Even though it’s dark, Eddie can see Jason’s eyes burn with wrath; the fury in his eyes is noticeable even though the distance between them is tangible.

”Where do you think you’re going?!” Jason shouts.

Shit!

Eddie throws himself toward the engine. Fuck it! It doesn’t matter if anyone hears him now, he has to flee for his life. With shaky fingers, he grabs hold of the line connected to the start engine and pulls. Nothing. No rumbling engine noise.

”Come on!” Eddie shouts at the engine that just sputters in reply. ”Just… come on…” Eddie pleads towards the dead object that refuses to make the boat move forward. ”…you piece of shit!”

He pulls again, only causing it to splutter once more. This can’t be happening. Not now.

”Come on!” Eddie pats on the engine as if it was a dog. “Gotta help me out here!”

A loud, wet splatter makes him look up from the striking engine. Jason and Patrick are wading out into the water. Jason’s running and the water splashes around him as he dives into the darkness and starts to crawl.

”Come on, you piece of shit!” Eddie shouts at the engine.

The engine revs and coughs weakly as Jason starts to come closer, but it doesn’t work. It’s dead.

”Goddamnit!” Eddie shouts and drops the line. ”Nope? Okay! All right then, okay!”

That’s it! He returns to the ore and starts to paddle again, but while he shouted at the motor to co-operate, Jason and Patrick have caught up with him. How fast he ever paddles, they will get to him. Eddie stops and turns around.

“Hey, stay back, man!” He shouts, waving the ore around him. “I said stay away!”

Jason’s just a few swim strokes from the engine, but Patrick’s 10 feet behind him, looking around the water without moving.

“Come on!” Jason shouts at him. “We almost got him!”

Patrick doesn’t answer. It’s as if he doesn’t hear Jason. Eddie stops waving the ore around. What’s wrong?

“Hey, Patrick!” Jason shouts, now in a concerned tone. “Patrick?”

With a jerk, Patrick disappears below the surface with such speed that he has no time to react.

“Patrick!”

What the heck was that? With sweat dripping down his forehead and a tight grip around the ore, Eddie looks around the dark lake with a pulse the same speed as a fighter jet. Patrick’s nowhere to be seen. Just dark, frightening water.

“Hey, Patrick!” Jason shouts again, kicking around the water.

Eddie should seize the moment and get a head start, paddling for all he’s worth away from there. But he can’t move. He’s frozen in fear. Something’s wrong, he can feel it.

“Patrick!? Patrick!” Jason shouts.

It strikes him like lightning. It can’t be anything else than it. Not again, Eddie just has time to think, before something shoots out of the water. Patrick. Eddie flinches violently and lets out a startled gasp, loses his balance and falls helplessly out of the boat and breaks the water's surface. Feverishly and terrified, he kicks around and feels the burning pain as water finds its way down into his lungs. Coughing and gasping for air, he comes over the surface of the water and spits at least a gallon of water out.

The first thing he sees is Patrick; five or six meters above the water, Patrick becomes suspended in the air, still and flaccid like a marionette puppet on invisible strings. It's like everything is playing on repeat inside Eddie’s head. Chrissy, slowly levitating towards the ceiling in the trailer, dead in the eyes, unreachable in a trance.

He can only watch as what happened to Chrissy happens to Patrick. The snapping sound of joints and the cracking of bones. The legs pointing in unnatural positions, as are the arms. He wants to scream and get the hell out of there as fast as he can, but his body can’t move, besides kicking around the water to prevent himself from sinking to the bottom of the lake.

And just as with Chrissy in the trailer, the invisible cords holding the now broken body up in the air are cut and Patrick’s body falls towards the water. The impact as the limp, broken body hits the surface of the dark water is painful. That’s when the panic releases its grip around Eddie. He won’t stay here a second more. With a racing heart beat and tears stuck in his throat, he swims back towards the boat. Desperately he climbs up into it, weighed down by the weight of his wet clothes. He tumbles into the boat and gropes blindly for the oar. Instead he gets a hold of the line to the engine and pulls.

“Holy shit-” He pants in falsetto as the engine coughs and starts to sputter.

The boat starts to move forward and he clings to the handle with one thought in mind - to get the hell out of there. With one last look back he gets a glimpse of Jason, disappearing underneath the water surface, probably to retrieve Patrick.

He doesn’t get very far before the engine starts to cough. Shortly thereafter it dies again and Eddie has to start paddling again. With his sights set on a small sandbar, he paddles so that his arms burn. The boat crashes through the sandy bottom a short distance from land. Eddie jumps out into the cold water and drags the boat up onto the beach. As he looks out over the lake, towards the cabin he sees someone crawl up on shore, Jason, dragging something behind. He trips and falls, pulling Patrick’s body up the sloping landside.

A lump grows in Eddie’s throat. His legs collapse underneath him and with trembling hands he pulls out the radio from the inner pocket of his jacket.

“For fuck-!” He swears as he sees the drenched radio. Desperately he starts to press all the buttons. “Hello!? Dustin, hello!?”

No use, it’s completely dead.

“Shit!” Eddie sputters, then he feels the rage bubble up inside. “Shit, shit, shit, SHIT!”

With all the force he’s able to produce after having to paddle over the lake, he throws the radio in a wide arc into the darkness.

He’s knee high in trouble now. From across the lake Eddie can hear faint, roaring cries from Jason as he -all in vain- tries to awake Patrick. You fool, Eddie thinks.

He’s gotta get out of here. Soon the area will be crowded with cops and people. On shaky legs he gets up from the ground and starts to run into the forest, away from the milky white moonlight.

The soaked clothes weigh him down and it clunks as soon as he sets his foot towards the uneven ground, scattered with roots, twigs and stones. All he can think about is getting as far away from the lake as possible. So far away from whatever it is that seems to be haunting him. He’s pumped up, completely exhausted, but he refuses to stop. With his hand pressed hard against the painful hold in his side, Eddie trudges on through the snarling, dark forest. Every sound makes him wince in fear.

Ever since he escaped the trailer, he has had a million different images of the unknown monster, Vecna. One more frightening than the other. Is Vecna in their world? Is he prowling around in the dark in the woods? Is he invisible? Is it even a male?

Eddie brakes hastily as he glimpses a dim light further ahead. It must be the moon. He begins to approach the edge of the forest. The closer he gets to the light, he sees that it reflects against tarmac. Must be the road to Hawkins from Lovers Lake. If he crosses it and continues through the forest on the other side, he might be able to find the railway and follow that. Where to is of less importance. He speeds up and charges even more when he gets out of the vegetation and puts his left foot on the road.

A swooshing sound and a jingling ringing tone makes Eddie press the heels of his sneakers into the tarmac in the middle of the road and turn his head to the left. In the milliseconds he’s got to react he can only think and whisper one thing.

“Shit.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x oc #Eddie munson x female oc #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fandom #eddie the hero #eddie x oc #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction

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blueparadis · 2 years

Text

▏decipher my heart ▏ emma sano. ▏

+CWs — f!reader, fluff, suggestive themes, poly relationships, angst, mention of alcohol and cigarettes,childhood friends, friends to lovers,slow romance, slow burn, alternate universe - modern, university/college. word count — 6.7k

synopsis — Emma knew you meant the world to her but she didn't know that sometimes she could be a little greedy too.

+notes — this piece was commissioned by @massivementalitynut. thank you for commissioning me. I had massive rollarcoaster of emotions while writing this. I love this trope so much. Kudos to your brain cells for pulling out this idea. Also, thank you for being patient with me!!!

LINKS SECTION. COMMISSION SHEET.

The first time you saw Emma, she wore a peach-colored dress with a floral pattern that reminded you of a fairy from the bedtime stories your mom used to tell you. It was her birthday and both of you were just a child of five. Her mom kept on insisting on being careful while playing, to be cautious not to get hurt, but who were you to deny the call of an angelic girl like her?

Her whole class was invited that day yet among all those familiar popular faces she waved at you with that heart-melting smile of hers. “Oh my ! he is gonna kill me, save me from this monster”, Emma yelled with the heartiest joy laughing merrily as she was chased by her eldest brother, Shinichiro. Of course, she was in her highest spirits. Being swarmed by her friends at her birthday party would sure put anyone in a good mood, even adults but you could not seem to blend in that easily.

There was no prince to save her as they tell in stories. So, you jumped at her savior being her prince. You were so small and feeble compared to Shinichiro. He was a young lad of sixteen and growing steadily. “I will fight you to save my princess.”, you stretched your arms to grab him by his torso and push him away from Emma. But with that lanky stature, one would easily dodge with the slightest movement, even if it was a small involuntary action. Shinichiro did exactly that making you lose your balance and trip on the floor.

Everyone gasped in unison. Shinichiro stood dumbfounded since realization just hit the boy that it was apparently his fault for hurting you. As you looked up at him, he called for his mom saying that you’re bleeding. You would not be aware if he didn’t mention that. Emma picked up her frills with her soft small palms and rushed towards you. There was no acting anymore. She was crying.

Even all the gifts and white lies could not stop her tears. Her mom aided you while Emma kept crying sitting beside you saying that it is her fault over and over again. Shinichiro apologized for being hit by such a wave of guilt but Mrs.Sano smiled and said he is not at fault for holding her son in her arms consoling his uneasiness. You wondered what it would feel like to have a family like this, have a brother like that. As you pressed the cold tissue up your nose, you forgot to cry.

That day Emma cried for you for the first time and on every birthday of hers that came after, she sat like a doll gracefully being the obedient girl that everyone liked. Shinichiro would recite the incident like one of those popular storytellers in front of others and his brothers were no different. But Emma held your hand firmly, exclaiming very sternly, “Boys, please. Stop this right now otherwise, mom should know that you three sneak out to the backyard every night”, every damn time.

At the age of eight, Emma shared her first ice cream with you. She was full of grace and soft gestures by then yet whenever she was with you, she seemed like a blooming flower. A little talkative, a little demanding, and a little clingy particularly when she had some favors to ask.

“Stop crying, Emma. I’m fine”, you were pressing her handkerchief on your bruised elbow while she was sitting on the bench of a park bawling her eye out like a child, like that day.

“You’re bleeding. You’re not fine”, her words toppled over one another and it almost made you snort in amusement but you had to control it. Lately, she has been a little sensitive.

“ Then, I will be fine but please stop crying.”, you sat beside her still pressing the handkerchief on your bruise.

“Oh-kay but promise you won’t hurt yourself for me? ever again?”

“I promise, Emma…I promise”

That was when you both were ten; when she absent-mindedly collided with a guy in the park while playing crashing on the sand along with you. While she was unscathed, you got just a bruise on your elbow. That remained the same even when you were struck by the cloud of sadness while she was soaked in rainbows and sunshines.

At twelve, you two went to a seasonal fair wearing matching yukatas. She wouldn’t just stop exploring the shops, jumping from one to other saying that this one is the last. When you bought apple candy she hugged you tightly saying those are her favorite. Emma’s first hug. She was so warm and so soft that you wanted to hug her again.

At sixteen, you had your first sleepover at her house. She mentioned she had something to show you but it happens that she had something to tell rather than show it. How on earth does a person show that they liked someone? Who on this earth liked getting caught while blushing thinking about their crush? Certainly not you, certainly not Emma but the way she kept rubbing her hands sitting under the covers in a pick camisole made you roll all over her bed.

“What? Really? Is he handsome?” your question was answered by a trail of giggles and you had no idea while you felt your chest tighten. Is this what people call jealousy? Why on earth you would be jealous if she had a crush on his brother’s friend? You responded with silence upon asking yourself this question. All you could feel was your throat drying, swallowing saliva constantly, and fighting off your best not to let your tears fall.

You never cried. She was always the one who cried.

“Draken huh?”, Emma nodded. She was so bashful.

“But I feel like he doesn’t like me”

“Oh don’t be silly and it is too early for that”

You could not believe your ears. She thinks he does not like her. So, there is a chance that her feelings might wither away like the petals of a flower. You felt an iota of solace in the corner of your heart but were too sleepy to find out the reason behind it yet at the same time, you realized that your friendship with her was starting to sublime like camphor.

That night she insisted on sharing the futon. She said mom gave you the larger one and both of you would fit. Her soft ivory arms wrapped around your belly. She smelt of baby powder and flowers. At first, you hesitated, but when you held her palm she curled it up pulling you a little close. You smiled to yourself thinking how every time her warmth, her kindness washes over your lonely shores of sadness and heartache.

The next day when you went to see her in class, she was with that annoying brother of hers, Mikey and there was a tall boy with a dragon tattoo on his left temple beside Mikey, he does not want an odd one out in his circle. Emma was beaming so bashfully standing in between them that anyone could tell she was in love. Perhaps, it was more evident to you since she confined you last night or maybe because you knew who is the brother and who is not.

“Heyyy, Where are you going?”, Emma’s voice reached you even though you were slowly cocooning yourself in the remnant affection she had for you. Your sudden halt made it clear that you had heard her. Hence, leaving now would be highly perilous since, with that emotional turbulence in your heart, you knew you would mess it up.

“I forgot to bring my water bottle. I’ll be right back”, you did not leave her a chance for a response immediately flying away from her vicinity. People would call you an utter fool for that, after all, what kind of butterfly flies away from such a fanciable flower? That was the first lie you had to tell her that day and you direly wished for it to be the last.

Needless to say that it was not the last lie you had to tell her.

On her eighteenth birthday, Emma did not host a birthday party like usual. She said she wanted to do something special but you had an idea why was that. Shinichiro was too old for a monster, Manjiro was old enough to not sign up for such bullshit, and Emma? She had found a proper prince and why would anyone settle for less even though the wish promised a mirage?

The neon lights basked her ivory body as she sat in the utmost corner of the pub. She sat with her palms resting on her knee and Draken was beside her. It was so hard to convince his brothers to have a birthday party she would like but they agreed when Draken mentioned he was free in the evening to accompany her.

Emma was desperate, desperate enough to bring her crush to the pub on her eighteenth birthday. And, just like she wanted, the outing was incredible and memorable. Draken was so easy to talk about given his grumpy face as well as huge stature, or perhaps it was Emma’s charms that he was being so easy to convince. After a long while, you wanted to feel that your friendship with Emma did not sublime, or at least you hoped for it.

“Is he staring at me?”

“Yes, he is”

“Yeah? What’s he doing?”

“Staring at you..”

Emma’s cheeks swelled in protest forming a pout. She looked so adorable trying to fight the fact that she was head over heels for Ken-chin. But you did not care. You just wanted this night to be fun, to be full of beautiful memories.

When Draken joined the dance floor, at first Emma hesitated but when you gave her the ‘go girl. You got this look, she inhaled a deep breath awfully making it obvious how much she was nervous around him. Maybe she did not notice, but you were. Draken smiled at Emma’s body moves full of modesty. At that moment, you felt excruciatingly elated. You wanted to know why but the thought of crawling back to the same jealousy made you erase this thought. Emma’s smile was much more important than just a mere ‘why’. Her smile was the reason for radiating happiness to everyone around her, including you, whatever the cause is; isn’t that selfish?

The narrow lane behind the pub was bestowed with dim lights, perfect for having a smoke. You did not have any idea that Ken smoked. Sure, he was a year elder than both of you but you doubted that Emma would fall for a bad guy. At such budding youth, non-smokers thought it was a sin to smoke but who really cared about that anyways?

“When did you start smoking? and why didn't you tell me?”, Emma was so loud that Draken had to sush her. She was a little drowsy. Draken did not have the strength to say no to her when she pleaded like a puppy and you? You just enjoyed the tension between them. After all, you knew Draken’s Achilles heel; if it comes to that, you’ll hit where it hurts.

“I turned eighteen a few months earlier than you”

“But that doesn't tell me why you kept me in the dark!”, she sounded so offended. For a moment, you wanted to yell back and say that if she had not been so blinded by her silly teen crush maybe you would have had the chance to share your first cigarette experience with her, about how it went, about how your elder sister was friends with Shinichiro and how he taught you how to smoke, with care.

But you just nipped the teen-crush part. “If I told you, Shin would have a hard time talking to you Emma”,

“Fuck”, it was not a surprise that Shinichiro would do something like this but the chain of friendship was hard to decipher. When did you become so distant to her?

Draken was still working on this situation while you extended him the half-burnt cigarette. A very normal habit for a smoker. You may have done it involuntarily but Draken sure did not take it as muscle memory. Before you realized what catastrophe you both just stepped into, Emma’s eye switched between the two of you as she slipped, “I wanna try pleaseeee”

Draken exchanged glances with you. He was surprised indeed but that glance did not reek of surprise, it sought permission. You knew instantly, that he valued your friendship with her, and respected your presence in her life. Were you really that important?

Draken skillfully handed her the cigarette not touching her, how bad down is he? ; without taking a drag he began to direct her in boyish charms.

“So, you just have to inhale … with your mouth

“I’ve to inhale the smoke ?”, Emma asked sarcastically.

“Yeah…”

Emma was worse than you. She sucked in a strong breath and Draken was quick to take the cigarette from her as you panicked, “You have to exhale it out too, you dummy!”

“Da’ faq”, Ken was at the edge too.

“How do you have it? It’s gross” Even though Emma could not tell that both of you were quite offended at her comment Draken sure shared his bubbling anger with you. It was so adorable that he shared glances with you whenever Emma was a little handful to manage.

Emma started coughing and why wouldn’t she? Her throat must feel itchy. You handed her a can of fruit juice that was small enough to fit in your jeans pocket, thankfully. After she settled in a little, Draken made no delay in taking her straight home. By then, she was a bit sober, sober enough to scold her brothers like she usually does.

After Emma vanished from your sight Draken finally lit a cigarette for himself. “Where is your home? I’ll drop you”

“I’m not a child. I can go home by myself”, you started walking steadily. Draken’s footsteps did not reach your ears yet.

“Neither is Emma.”, you turned to look at him mumbling to yourself making sure that was not audible to him.

“But she was tipsy, so…”

“It is quite late so can I drop you home, y/n?”, you could not hold it in anymore. You laughed loudly having him taken aback at your high spirits. Draken was sharp and handsome. No wonder Emma swooned over him. With the blonde strands tucked behind his ear, and his dragon tattoo on the display, he was breathtaking to look at.

He matched your steps with you quickly. “You don’t seem like a guy who would smoke…

“Yeah? What do I seem like?”, he passed you the cigarette.

“Hmmmph. Stoner?”, Draken narrowed his gaze on you but it changed when you looked at him apologetically, sticking your tongue out. He laughed, for the first time since this evening of secrets.

“There it is”, your house was not too far from Emma’s. Maybe that is why she often spent her evenings in yours. “Well, Good night then…” but impulse overpowered your body and it managed to unlock some more secrets.

“Hmm quick question Draken, does Mikey know?” He nodded his head sideways slowly trying to figure out yet was drowning in confusion but when he connected the dots his eyes fanned out in shock. How on earth did you know? Did Mikey tell you? Did he do something that might gave you the idea that he liked Emma?

While Draken’s brows furrowed in the confusion you had an idea what kind of thoughts could cloud his mind. It was painful to watch him like that. “Relax, your secret is safe with me Ken.”, you almost shut the door but turned around the next moment supplying, “Don’t make her wait too long.”

At the click of the door, Draken sighed heavily running his hand through his nape in between his golden locks. What makes you think that he is not aware that Emma likes him? More importantly, now that you seem to know his feelings towards Emma it could ruin his plans, although he did not have much yet the possibility remains. Draken was lost. He went down spiraling in the obvious path. What if Emma rejects him? What if she does not like him the way he does?

When you finally locked the door the familiar loneliness washed over you. You curled while sitting on the floor leaning against the doorframe. “So unfair”. Tears rolled down your cheeks and the most annoying part was when you asked yourself why. The inner voice replied, jealousy.

The next day was bestowed with unprecedented happiness.

You were waiting outside Emma’s home before going to school. You always have. It has become a routine but when fifteen minutes passed you decided to head to school thinking it was just another day where she wanted to stay home, maybe she was sick or was in low spirits.

Generally, she informs you if such cases were to happen but today was an exception. You could not exactly blame her given the roller coaster of emotions she had yesterday. Emma must be going through strange high-lows replaying what she had done yesterday.

“Good morning…”,

“Good morning.”, you supplied out of habit. As you turned you spotted Draken, who was parking his cycle on the opposite side of you. Both of you started walking towards the campus as if you two had been doing that since the start as if you two had been like this forever.

“Emma did not come today. Bet you won't be coming to the canteen today.” You have noticed a blonde boy with a dragon tattoo long before Emma confined in you. You have always wondered if the stimuli were Emma or you. Sometimes, you wished it was you since who would like their best friend to be eyed with the gaze of admiration and affection?

“Yeah, she informed me. And I’ll have to go to the canteen ‘cause I'll get hungry” You scowled but quickly managed to switch it with a low chuckle. It was an embarrassing one; bet Draken could pin if there was something wrong with you, with this, with the relationship progress he made with Emma. You did not let it dwell further.

“Why do you smoke Ken…?”,

Ken. No one calls him that so he bothered to look at you with a raised brow while responding, “I thought it would make me look cool”

“If you’re worried Emma, you don’t need to smoke. You’re already enough”, the way it drawled out of your mouth made him stare at you long enough to make you aware of what it meant in between the lines. “For her of course”, you laughed out embarrassingly as well as cursed yourself for starting to talk about her again.

“And for you?”, Draken already crossed his classroom yet he kept walking along with you. At this point, you felt a little guilty for slipping in front of him like that. A neglected drowning heart always tries to clutch onto something, even if it is a twig of hope.

“Oh C’mon! Give me something”, his voice was softer this time making you cave in easily.

“You’d look better if you dye your hair black.”

Draken stood outside your class with a stoic expression and as you went inside the class, you wanted to turn around to have a look at him, at his bashfulness but that would be wrong, wrong in so many ways.

While going home you thought of dropping by her house but was immediately reminded how Draken was the first to know that she will not be coming to school today and you came to know from her, not even the second option.

Things changed from that day. You started to avoid both of them for different reasons. With Draken, it was more awkward to talk. He was full of glances at the corridors and smiled. Sometimes, he would have his lunch with you in the canteen, especially when Emma was not around. You did not like this behavior since he rarely talked about Emma in such situations. For a guy who is crushing on your best friend, does he not need to be a little curious about her, especially in her absence? Actually, he did not.

You would spot them together occasionally whenever you had to shift from one class to the other. You thought Emma wanted to spend all the time she gets before Draken graduates but keeping in touch with him would not be that hard especially when he is friends with her elder half-brother. Besides, will these efforts even matter to Draken after he graduates? Emma’s habit of waiting outside the school, keeping a spare water bottle for him and also a towel, and staying late while Draken was in practice.

The day came sooner than you expected, the graduation ceremony. Emma looked beautiful as ever in that black dress that had glimmering polka patterns on the sleeves. For once, you could see her alone. She was sitting on the couch going through her phone. You walked towards her but immediately stopped seeing Draken coming from behind with two red glasses. Your heart sank at that moment and immediately hid behind the door.

You could not seem to understand your behavior. Why do you need to hide from them? From Emma? When you scanned the place you spotted Mikey sitting on the couch with his friends. Even though everyone around him was enjoying the evening, his eyes were on you. Shit.

Mikey could not just believe what he say. He has never seen you like this. Surely, he did ask about your sudden absence from Emma’s life but did not press it further when Emma yelled at him for minding his own business. Now, when he watched you being so conflicted while seeing Emma and his best friend, Draken together, he could put two and two together, almost.

The party felt like a neverending dash of waves with each passing hour more people came. You were sure not all were graduates, some were alumni, and some were from other schools. You knew it was not an official ceremony but did not have the slightest idea about this very range of people.

You kept emptying one glass after another as you were waiting outside the main room so that at least you could go home with her. One more year and both of you will be apart due to different choices of study streams. The beer felt more bitter when an odd realization hit you. What if Emma had already picked a college? What if she was going to the same college as Draken?

You crushed the glass and discarded it into the bin before hurrying to find them. If that was the case, you needed to tell her sooner; you needed to tell her that you have to transfer schools and that, this year will be the last year she would be spending with you.

You had searched all the places you could think of except the terrace. When you reached there you spotted Draken’s broad figure. You looked around thinking Emma would be somewhere around until Draken shifted a little, giving a view of Emma who was in his embrace with a smile on her face like a sunflower who had found her sun. The staircase was devoid of any lights as you ascended the stairs in a hurry. Are they…together? That was the first thought that crossed your mind and all others came crashing down one after the other.

You were running as fast as you could to get out of this place until you collided with something and fell to the ground. With that amount of liquor in your system, an awful echoing buzz wrecked your mind. When you looked up, a person was crouching down and looking at you with a smile on their face. Blonde hair pronounced facial features almost like Emma’s. She can’t be here, can she? You just saw her on the rooftop just a while ago or maybe Draken was with someone else or maybe you should stop thinking because you’re too drunk. It would not hurt to find out.

It was dark, there was not even a single drop of moonlight. Still, you knew that the person you just kissed was not Emma, it was Mikey. You wondered if she would taste like her brother, their body aroma was in a similar range. Do people feel every little thing when they’re drunk?

“Waoh,woah, Woahhh-there”, Mikey grabbed you by your shoulders. He instantly helped you to be on your feet but you failed to keep a proper balance. “Just this once.”, he mumbled before having one of your arms around his shoulders.

“Youuuu’re a heroou mike-y, a hero” All you could hear was his warm chuckle. If there could be an eighth sin in this World, then it would be Mikey's laugh. At least, it did not promise false hopes, like Emma’s.

When you woke up, you were in loose boxers and a pale-colored camisole. The curtains were not drawn yet but the sunlight was strong enough to heat up the room. Your droopy eyes tried to look for the clock but you did not seem to find it in its usual place. “Fuck!”, you sprung up on the bed breathing accelerating as you noticed a pink teddy bear on the study table.

“Good morning”, a sweet melodious voice turned up that made you jolt in surprise.

“Em-mma”

“You were wasted so much so Mikey brought you here. I did not think it would have been appropriate to send you home like that. I called your mom too.”

“Thanks”, Emma sat at the edge of the bed her knee nudging yours as she leaned in and hugged you.

“I’m so happpppyyyyyy… Draken finally confessed.”, she squealed so loud that it made your heartbeats ring louder amongst your ribs than usual. She unclamped her arms from you and both of you immediately fell into a swarm of laughter. How could you tell her that she has just one more week before you vanish from her sight? But is there even any need to tell her? Especially when she is perfectly swamped with Draken’s love and care and will never have to know what loneliness feels like.

You learned a new thing that day, that is, how to keep a secret from Emma, from your lover. She can not know that you kissed her brother just out of jealousy or rather just out of spite perhaps.

Moving to a new town just before the graduating year was not easy but it definitely was not impossible when you are blessed with a very funky neighbor. He was a year elder than Draken. He had ivory hair and dreamy blue eyes but was like a non-stop radio station, Gojo Satoru. It is a wonder how he is so very energetic all the time, so very gleeful that anyone would hardly think that he has ever experienced an emotional skyfall or maybe he was too good at keeping those at bay.

Thanks to Satoru, your days were lively but sometimes you would find yourself staring blankly and thinking about Emma and Draken. Emma called you many times and left texts from every cell phone she had in the house yet all went unanswered. Guilt kept crawling back to you every time your phone rang or the sound of notifications went on. It was not just her ignorance of your existence in her life anymore, it was Draken who was at stake.

It was Draken who dropped you off at the station. You could not come to terms with the fact to tell Emma and have her bid you goodbye at the station. It was Draken; he was not only easy to talk to but also easy to rely upon. He did not ask you about what happened between you and your best friend. You did not want to look back at that moment before going in the elevator but you did. He was staring, it was full of longing and hurt. Fortunately, he smiled before you could think more of it. Right! a smile cures everything.

With that emotional turmoil, you would rather avoid Emma than confess that you not only kissed her brother but also had a sinful breeze of thoughts about her boyfriend.

“You’re in deep shit,y/n”, Satoru chimed as you poured your heart out. You were not very fond of his reactions but it sure put a smile on your face even though it was for a brief moment.

“I hope I can talk to them when I go back.”, Satoru snorted out loud. You blinked trying to conjecture what was so funny for him. Is he really gone mad or were you a hopeless fool? But then he suggested the oddest of all: to take him with you to your hometown. All he got was a raised eyebrow from you until you simply walked past him towards your house. It was almost a dusky twilight.

“Oh, c’monnn! I will be of massive help. You have no idea how my charms would work on . . .

When you peered through your eyelashes Satoru’s pleading voice faded and one of his cheeks was a bit puffed. “At least show me some photos of them” You did since that would shut him up for a while, at least until you graduate.

The graduation ceremony was a blast. You could almost list it under the label of “happy memories” if you did not see two girls posing for a picture while a boy was taking the picture. He was not even in his graduation dress. That was it. You had to go back to make things right.

Unfortunately, Your mom was at par with the suggestion of Satoru accompanying you since she could not nor did your dad. She said she worries less if someone elder than you would be with her to keep your bad habits in check. How amazingly contradicting that your mom thinks that Satoru would keep you in check while it is the other way around. Routines and rules were never in his dictionary.

The moment you stepped into your hometown you inhaled the air letting the nostalgia seep in while Satoru scrunched his nose. He was feeling sick due to the bus journey and could not wait to hit home.

“So, where is your home?”, Satoru asked as if he knew your hometown like the back of his palm but he seem to read your thoughts as silence prevailed. “Alright, so where is her house? You did tell me that she lives nearby…

“Four houses away from mine.”, you prepared yourself for his next question which was quite obvious for a stranger in town.

“Do we… like … do we have to cross her house to reach yours?”

You gave him a nod and Satoru being Satoru, he dramatically dropped his bags on the pavement. You licked your lips, folded your hands trying your best not to fall for his tricks. Maybe this is why your mom insisted to take him with you. He always had a habit of easing the unnecessary tension upsurging at the bottom of your heart. He was so goofy and comfortable to be around. It was just in him, probably.

“So, what do we do now y/n?”, he asked crouching down to meet your haze that was aimed on the road.

“How about we hit the cafe?”

“Yes, please. I’m starving” he murmured. With that smile, laced with a raised eyebrow, Satoru jumped at the chance. It was a fifteen minutes walk from the bus stop. The weather was unbearably hot and Gojo kept saying that over and over again making the heat all the more annoying.

“Seriously, how long is it gonna take? You said fifteen minutes, it has been more than twenty minutes”

“Well, you are just a slow walker”. With that height he was bound to have longer strides than you, you had to say that.

It is amusing how you were getting used to his ways. Just a year ago, you could not possibly tolerate his annoying ass but now you have learned how to give him a taste of his own medicine. Satoru stopped walking while you did not. But a moment later he joined in. A cab would have saved both of you but there was none, his phone was dead and you still are not there yet to trust him with your phone.

When you both reached the cafe Satoru exclaimed with extreme worry. “Well, let’s just have a drink and then we can head home. There is a huge line at the counter.”

Satoru can be moody sometimes and there was indeed a long queue at the counter but it did not bother you. “I’m one of the regulars. Moreover, they’ve other options too tooru.” you tried to assure him but it did not work. His eyebrows still remained wrinkled until he found a nice place to sit.

You two were sitting opposite to each other, with him facing the door of the cafe and your back against the great view of the colorful range of customers. You never argued with him, since he just pins the most hilarious customers until the food comes in. He is very good at observing people and whenever you two used to hit the cafe, time flew within a blink. Maybe, that is why you never complained about his awful tactics of always being so loud and eye-catching.

“What you’d like to order ma’am?”, the staff shot you a smile and nodded looking towards Gojo. To everyone else, you two would seem like a couple, including Draken and Emma who sat against in your range of vision just a table away from yours.

“A cold coffee… with chocolate ice cream.”

“And you sir?”, Satoru was busy flipping the pages of the menu card. He let out a whistle before mumbling, “foood. Lots and lots of food”

You cleared your throat before he could get carried away further and judging from the waiter’s expression he certainly thought quite deeply about Satoru’s words.

“Fine. just a burger and a cold drink”, as soon as the waiter left Satoru started talking again.

“Why are you like this? Can’t you have a little bit of fun?

Also, you can not stay here forever. You have to go home crossing her home ya’know”

Yea, another odd of Satoru is to jump from one topic to a completely different one just because he might forget to tell that later. Be it a simple remark or darkest secret he always tugs it up to a totally different topic.

“Relax. There must be another route to get home. I will check it on google maps so can you just keep quiet for a while?”, even though you remained perfectly calm while speaking you still responded with his pout. He leaned back against his chair as you took out your phone from your tote bag.

For a moment you hesitated, thinking you did not come here to avoid Emma. You came to have a proper talk with her and you had a lot of apologizing to do since you simply vanished into thin air. Moreover, you have no idea what is happening on her end. Is she still with Draken? Is she still like that? Like a sunflower or did Draken already deflower him?

“What’re ya thinking y/n?” that familiar sarcastic chime from Satoru was more than enough to declare that he had an idea of what was going through your mind. You tapped the corner of the phone on the table two times, waiting; waiting for his next words.

“Running is not easy y/n. It hurts the same as facing things head on”. In a span of six months, this was the first time you had seen him vulnerable like a wounded creature and there is no way you could miss the spice of his life.

You kept the phone aside squealing with thrill as you propped up your elbows on the table, “Tell me moreeeeeee” Satoru smirked before inclining towards you keeping the same mysterious smile that had a hint of chaos within it.

“So, whom do you like? Ken Ryuguji or Emma Sano?” the question was a blot from the blue. You never expected Gojo to be able to pin on such crucial detailed emotion you tried so hard to keep buried under the debris of your desolated feelings.

“I’m not doing this now”, you almost hissed, snapping at him. It is not hard to pick one. Even if you liked one of them more than the other, what exactly were you trying to hide from? Is it the fear of liking them both and ruining the three lives on the line?

“At least have the coffee. Don’t just let take the anger on food”, Satoru was right. If this conversation were to happen in a secluded place, you were bound to answer him. There was nowhere you could run but sit at this cafe, surrounded by a lot of gawking eyes Satoru could not possibly risk pressing the matter further.

A strong exhale escaped from your lips as he apologized. Yep, that’s his style of saying “Sorry”, that is, pointing out the pitfalls of the current situation. You sat crossing your legs one over the other.

“Both… i like both”, you uttered loud enough for Satoru to hear it. A curve of delight spread across his face as he supplied with an exhale, “See, it is not that hard to admit that you like both”, he was unnecessarily loud. You had to glare at him since the waiter turned up with the food both of you both. He placed a burger and a cold drink over Satoru’s side; and a cold coffee and some strawberry waffles. You blinked your eyes before enquiring about the obvious.

“I did not order. The waiter pointed diagonally from your place. “OH MY GOD”, you gasped slapping your cheeks to gain your composure.

“That’s it. Leave my hand Draken.”, your ears jammed at the voice, at the mention of the name. Your cheeks seem to heat up enough to make you dizzy. What are the odds that could happen to make you meet Emma and Draken at this very cafe?

Draken followed Emma like a lost puppy while Satoru was foolish enough to leave his seat taking the cold drink with him. It was definitely a bad idea to tell him everything, to show him their photos and why the fuck this table is a three-sitter, again?

“Satoru you’re grounded. I’m telling your mom about your late-night sneak outs”, that was the best threat you could come up with as you fumed like a steaming kettle. Draken nodded in Satoru’s direction before taking the same seat, hence sitting opposite to you. Emma sat beside yours.

“I hate strawberries.”, your voice seems to die at the core of your throat from the pressing silence. Emma was tapping her nails demanding an explanation while Draken cleared his throat.

“We do too. We both like you”

The moment those set of words left Ken’s lips, you gulped half of the sliced strawberry without chewing. Emma stopped tapping her nails on the table. She took a glance at her boyfriend before speaking, “that does not mean you’re forgiven. So, you staying at mine. Your friend can stay anywhere he wants I don’t care”, Her voice oozed out so much confidence that it made harder to process all of these.

“Alright.” you managed to mumble. She was wearing a peach-colored dress with floral patterns that reminded you of a fairy. She was indeed one, that too a wish-granting type. You glanced at Draken who had dyed his hair black and tied it in a high ponytail, displaying his dragon tattoo as he tried to avert his gaze from you while grazing his nape with his palm. Perhaps, he missed you too. You smiled at his bashfulness and so did Emma.

—

networks: @tokyometronetwork

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mrs-hatake · 3 years

Text

no but like imagine y/n is married to her high school sweetheart pro hero!aizawa and their relationship couldnt be any more perfect than this. that is, until five years into their marriage when aizawa’s popularity is increasing and he is climbing up the ladder of pro heroes, made it to the top five even, so he is extremely busy.

y/n is understanding when aizawa returns home late after every mission or conference. she is forgiving when he starts missing their dates. she tries to be understanding when birthdays were forgotten and anniversaries were uncelebrated. but three years of this was too much and it’s slowly killing y/n. she is depressed and lonely. and she is frustrated because she doesn’t know how to bring this up to shouta without making it seem like she’s some clingy and obsessed wife. she bottles up her emotions and tries to plaster on a smile whenever they go to whatever hero type event she is invited to along with her husband.

however, that doesn’t last long and she soon runs into villain!dabi by accident. she was at the wrong place at the wrong time. she was at some convince store getting some junk food for another lonely night when blue flames engulf the store and in walks in a scarred man who jumps over the counter and takes out all of the money from the cash register. they lock gaze and y/n recognizes him from tv as a member of the league of villains that shouta had been trying to break down for the past year and a half.

his stapled lips stretch into a wicked grin before jumping over the counter and advances towards her, y/n not liking the hungry look in his eyes. no doubt he recognizes her as the wife of eraser head. aizawa constantly warned her to stay low to protect herself but y/n was confident no harm would come her way. she deeply regrets her stupid decision.

before dabi could do anything, police sirens pierce through the silence. dabi curses under his breath and turns to bolt out of the crime scene. but not before throwing a “see you around, doll face.” with a sleazy smirk.

needless to say, the two met again. and again. and again until it become a normal occurrence. so normal, in fact, that if they don’t run into each other for more than two days, they feel as if a piece of their heart was ripped from them.

so it’s not a surprise to anyone that the two enter a sexual relationship and neither of them have ever felt so alive before. their lives feel complete and they feel like they can take over the world.

of course, nothing is perfect. y/n still has guilt over the fact that she is constantly cheating on her husband and still refuses to moan dabi’s birth name in bed. it frustrates him to no end. so imagine how mad he gets when y/n is ditching a night she promised to spend with dabi so that she could attend a dinner at some pro hero’s mansion (pretentious pig) and acting all lovey dovey with a man she no longer loves like she did before.

dabi’s furious and he is itching stir up the pot and make sure that y/n will finally be his once and for all and gets shouta out of the picture. so as y/n is getting ready in his cheap, rundown apartment to meet with her husband (who doesn’t even bother to go the event with her at the same time as he has an interview beforehand, what a dick! thinks dabi) he tells her that he wants to take a video because she looks so ravishing in her little black dress.

y/n doesn’t think much of it and even snorts at the choice of song (a popular sound on tiktok no less) and even humors him when he presses his front to her back and she matches the sway of his hips, even gives a sultry look at the camera filming them from a lowered angle.

y/n kisses him goodbye and promises to make it up to him tomorrow and dabi could barely hide the mischievous smirk threatening to split across his face.

needless to say, the dinner party with all the heroes was boring. and poor shouta was trying his very best to entertain his wife but y/n feels awkward being around shouta after she started sleeping with dabi and the fact that he had been neglecting her for years prior to her infidelity. she’s thinking of fun little ways to make up for dabi and doesn’t notice the deep frown settling on aizawa’s lips.

when they return home, aizawa tries to be intimate with y/n by kissing her neck and telling her how much he misses her but y/n breaks free from his hold with a lame excuse that she’s tired and wants to go to bed.

hours later, when y/n is deep asleep and shouta is leaning on his elbow as he watches his wife sleep, his fingers gliding across her arm, hidden by long sleeved pajamas (which was odd since she normally slept in tank tops) and is thinking about the odd change in behavior of his wife when his phone buzzes on the night stand.

he reaches over and his eyebrows pinches at the message he read.

trouble in paradise?

shouta decided to ignore it, assuming it was a wrong number, when the next message has his eyes widen.

she’s cheating on you

is she really?

shouta glances at his slumbering wife and he is about to reply to the person on the other end, demanding who this person is and how dare he accuse his wife. even though a tiny voice at the back of his head whispers to shouta that, maybe y/n is cheating on him. it would explain why she would always ignore his phone calls and would return home late on those rare nights he’s some early. sure, he assumed it’s because he’s just so busy that y/n is probably spending her time with family or a new hobby. but cheating? that’s a stretch.

aizawa receives another message and this time it’s a video that makes his blood freeze.

(imagine this is them in the video lol)

shouta’s heart painfully wrenches and his stomach churns. theres ringing in his ears and his vision blurs.

y/n.

and dabi.

the villain he’d been trying to capture for the past year and a half, dancing together.

the next three messages come simultaneously.

the first picture is of dabi standing behind y/n with his scarred arm wrapped around her waist and his chin resting on her shoulder as they both stare into the phone y/n is holding in front of the mirror.

the next is another picture of y/n kissing dabi’s cheek as the younger man scrunches his face, pretending to dislike the affection he is receiving.

but the third message, the last one, killed shouta.

it’s a video of y/n, his wife, who is naked on her back as she is getting fucked out of her mind. her smile is loopy, her hair is messy and her voice is whiny. an appearance of y/n he is all too familiar of.

“who do you belong to?” dabi’s voice could be heard in the background.

“yoouu~” y/n mewls, her breasts jiggling with every harsh thrust from dabi.

“you’re mine.” dabi grunts. “say it.”

“i’m yours! no one else’s but you, dabi!” and y/n comes with a cry of dabi’s name. she looks straight at dabi, and shouta holds back the sob that’s threatening to break because of the love and devotion filling y/n’s eyes. a look which he had been on the receiving end of for years.

aizawa quickly closes the messaging app, shuts off his phone and walks out of the apartment door. he needed to clear his mind before he did something stupid like hunting down dabi and killing him on spot.

he’d deal with y/n later.

#please i saw that video a month ago and i’ve been OBSESSED with it ever since #and i KNOW for a fact that dabi would do this! to aizawa specifically!!!#dabi x reader #aizawa x reader #dabi imagine #aizawa imagine #dabi hcs #aizawa hcs

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lollily · 2 years

Note

hit me with the most useless headcanon you have for your tokrev fave. (yknow something that'd have no consequence on the plot lol)

Thanks for the ask!! though you've probably unleashed something. Now I wonder how do I go about with this. My favs are Senju and Baji but I don't think I can just put them without talking about everyone else so????

Shinichiro's first love was the next door highschool yankee onee-san. He was in 3rd year elementary.

Akane became friends with Shinichiro after finding him beaten up in a playground. More like she was offering him a band-aid and just then takeomi arrived (from somewhere??) and very gruffly asked her what she was doing and shin interrupting him said, "No no she's a nice girl! We're friends!!" And ever since that declaration they became friends.

Shin had keizo dress up as santa for the kids' Christmas party.

Senju took a photo with him back then and still keeps it with her. She knows Santa doesn't exists but she says "that santa was really nice. If Santa was real I think he'd be like that."

Senju still doesn't know that was keizo and whenever he sees that picture his heart just melts.

Senju and Mikey as kids loved stomping over dry leaves, competing who can make the "loudest crunch". Baji even had a special move. Haru : "how childish".

Senju still does that. Mikey doesn't notice but he does it too.

Wakasa has a ring collection.

He also knows embroidery.

Senju sometimes asks wakasa to do her hair.

Wakasa knows he's not the best at it but he likes the tune Senju hums when he's doing her hair.

Yk when takemitchi was hospitalized after being almost beaten to death by Mikey? It wasn't koko who called Hina. Senju did. Senju narrated the whole incident, profusely apologising too, and Hina consoled her even thanking her for looking after Mitchy. They're good friends now ^^

The first time koko and inupi met the 1st gen BDs (through Akane) koko's first thought was, "my competition is them??". It's safe to assume he felt threatened by wakasa. Poor wakasa didn't understand why the smaller was glaring at him.

Koko has a cat's tongue.

Inupi doesn't haven't a cat's tongue, he just doesn't like hot food. Except ramen. He'll down piping hot ramen in no time.

After the BD arc yuzuha came upto him to talk away their bad blood. Inupi was seriously confused, still controlled his sharp tongue and made friends with her. Girl just wanted to take him shopping.

Hakkai has a Mitsuya scrapbook. Yeah no surprise there.

Once Mana and Luna had Mitsuya act as the bad guy and Hakkai was the prince but Hakkai couldn't play his role properly because, "I can't hit Taka-chan even if it's a game!"

Luna and Mana sure get that attitude due to Mitsuya's teachings, but yk who made them Divas? Hannah Montana.

Baji and Tora babysitting Luna and Mana. They weren't that bad surprisingly. Mostly because the girls loved dolling up the elder boys while they patiently sat and listened to all the blackmail material they were gaining. Who knew kids know all your secrets.

Baji is an honorary sano. He was there when Emma had her first period. He was there when Mikey broke his first bone. He was there preparing for Shinichiro's surprise birthday party breaking almost all the furniture in the house.

Kazutora, king of short power naps. Short being 4hour long.

Hakkai with long hair is very popular in highschool. It kinda irks chifuyu. Hakkai thought chifuyu was jealous because the girls weren't flocking around him, in truth, long haired Hakkai reminds fuyu of Baji.

After the whole "it was the first time I ever respected someone" incident, Chifuyu ranted about Baji to his mother.

His mother was concerned at first but weeks later she started noticing the good changes in her son and decided Baji was a good influence.

The next day she saw Baji getting scolded by his mom. That's when the moms became friends.

Chifuyu watched hairstyle tutorials on YouTube. In case Baji was interested.

Smiley is not very fond of the idea of Angry hanging out with the idiot trio. it's better if their stupidity doesn't rub off on his younger brother.

Angry likes berry flavoured desserts.

Peh third-wheeled atleast the first four dates of pah-chin. She was Pah's childhood friend (the one he gets married to) so she understood Peh's actions. She hinted to him that it was a date so he should leave them alone. But it's peh we're talking about.

She was so sure peh would third-wheel their wedding too.

Mitsuya's solution to peh's third-wheeling? He forced him to spend time with Yasuda-san.

Yuzuha was in the flower arrangement club in highschool and got obsessed with flowers and their meanings. She helps Mitsuya with choosing patterns when he needs to convey certain feelings or message through his work.

Hina and Emma would model for him too and help out in any other way possible.

Emma bought Hina some sexy lingerie. Hina couldn't look into takemitchi's eyes for a whole week.

Extremely difficult for Draken to keep up his tsun-tsun attitude whenever Emma sends him a picture of her wearing one of Mitsuya's dresses.

Draken learnt how to cook all of Emma's favourites.

Hanma knows how to cook too. His idea of a romantic date is candlelight dinner (with a single candle. A burning car will do too.) And his homemade spaghetti and meatballs. It's his dream to do the famous lady and the tramp scene.

Kisaki knows the kanji to almost every word.

Hanma asked him the kanji for masturbation. Kisaki: disgusted.

Smiley and Mitsuya have the highest spice tolerance in Toman.

Who has a higher spice tolerance? Rindou.

Rindou adds chilli oil to almost everything he eats.

Rindou is also the cleaner Haitani. He's also more concious about his hair than his older brother and has a very thorough skincare routine.

Ran does take pride in his hair, but according to him his naturally lustrous hair only need beer shampoo. That's enough.

Ran quotes anything trendy.

Rindou smells like flowers. Like, very much.

Shion is actually very sweet to children though they normally don't approach him themselves.

Shion never wins at the summer festival games and ends up threatening the stall owner out of frustration. He lets go easily because there are lots of people around.

Mochi has a pet Pomeranian.

Mochi is also very respectful to elders and women. The kind of guy who'd help someone cross the street.

Izana spent his time reading philosophical books and would often ask kakucho for his opinions by giving him a hypothetical situation.

Kakucho likes fish.

In bonten, whenever Sanzu would get high just before a meeting or something serious. Koko would make him listen to conspiracy theory podcasts, hand him a notebook and pen and leave him alone. Sanzu would sit quietly after that.

Ran low-key despises takeomi for being a negligent older brother and tries to show brotherly affection to Sanzu from time to time.

His crazy ass makes it difficult.

Sanzu admitted to what he did to Mucho when he was high. He was hallucinating and talking to himself. Since then, people give Sanzu privacy whenever he's high.

Which led to him trying to swallow a goldfish.

Kakucho once brought Mikey dorayaki even without him asking for it and all of bonten executives swear they saw faint stars in those obsidian eyes for the first time in years.

Kakucho has one of Izana's earrings in a beautiful velvet box with a picture of them and a picture of tenjiku higher ups. Ran once found it, just smiled softly and never let out a peep.

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in-the-dollpalace · 3 years

Text

Rating Kit’s entire collection

We are finally back with another ratings post! I’m sorry i can’t do these more often, they take a lot of time and energy, so I’m usually to busy to sit down and make them, now nearly a whole year has passed since i started this series!

But thats alright, because we only have 5 more to go after this one, and hopefully i can do them more often after this. I thought about removing unessasary commentary, but alot of you said you liked it, so i kept it in.

anyway i guess lets get into it! since i go in order of the year it takes place, its kit’s turn!

Doll and meet outfits

1. original meet outfit

doll: 10/10 I love her short bob! it really helps reflect her time periods fashion trends so well!

outfit: 8/10 I don’t particually care for this outfit, but i do love how true it is to the time period and the detail that the skirt is supposed to be made of a flour sack.

2. beforever meet outfit

4/10 what the hell is this. I mean it is a subjectively cute dress, but it doesnt fit kit’s story at all! It is way to modern, but even if it is historically accurate, that type of printed fabric and decoration would be way to expensive for the kitterages to buy for an everyday dress for her.

3. original meet accesories

10/10 omg cute! i’ve said it before, and will say it again. I love historical coins!

4. beforever meet accesories

5/10 its so... empty. now there is nothing to put in her purse :(

School collection

1. school dress

9/10 again, not really my personal favorite but i do love the little... flower boquets? (not for sure what they are the pic is to blurry)

2. book bag and supplies

10/10 i love the dog binder

3. swivel chair and desk

10/10 I always love seeing how the girl’s desks have evolved and changed depending on their setting. It’s become a niche interest of mine.

4. school lunch

10/10 i love the tin lunch box with the train!

holiday collection

1. christmas dress

10/10 so festive and cute! I adore the dog pin on her collar

2. Aviator doll

10/10 I havn’t had the chance to read her books yet, but i heard she likes amelia earhart? if so, that is such an amazing interest!

3. Waffle iron

9/10 I like the little recipe cards, and the holly branches too but idk if those were actually included. My only gripe with this is that kit’s iron should have been square shaped, the round ones were a bit more expensive in the 30s.

4. typewriter set

10/10 I always have had an interest in typewriters. Like i said before, i havn;t read her books yet, who is the photo of?

Birthday collection

1. birthday dress

10/10 it looks like a green version of annie’s dress!

2. grace the dog

10/10 i’ve always wanted a dog like this

3. party treats

8/10 i don’t really like this set, but i do like the cute cake.

4. glasswear and linens

10/10 reminds me of my grandmas house, probably because she grew up when this was popular lmao

5. table and chairs

10/10 this is one of my favorite table and chair sets they have made

Summer collection

1. overalls

10/10 hello lgbt community

2. hobo camp supplies

10/10 i’d buy this just for the binoculars tbh

winter collection

1. coat

10/10 looks cute!

2. hat and mittens

9/10 wish they came with the coat

3. photography set

10/10 i love everything about this set

bedtime collection

1. beach pajamas and slippers

10/10 aw it looks like a little sailor suit!

2. sriped nightie

8/10 I beleive this one is based on her movie? I don’t like it as much as her original pjs

3. day bed and bedding

9/10 not a fan of the green and pink combo but still like the bed overall

4. bedtime extras

10/10 omg the old timey phone!!!

5. trunk

10/10 its good as far as trunks go. Although i wonder how much it can actually hold?

extra outfits

1. treehouse outfit

10/10 cute, but it kinda reminds me of southpark 💀

2. baseball fan outfit

10/10 i like how the also gave her an interest in baseball

3. beach outfit

9/10 cute, but the goggles have me hollaring 💀

4. school skirt set

8/10 its very pretty, but looks like something an adult would wear back then, not a kid.

5. play suit

10/10 so cute

4. summer dress

8/10 i absolutely adore this dress, but i feel like this one is a bit to expensive/girly for kit (unless mrs. kitterage made it?)

extra accessories

1. beach chair

10/10 i’ve never seen one of these chairs in real life funnily enough

2. cookstove

10/10 looks just like the one i found in my grandmas storage room

3. produce and preserves

10/10 cottagecore vibes

4. washday set

10/10 my #1 post from this year with the most notes was talking about this set

5. holiday baking set

10/10 i love baking, so seeing vintage baking stuff reminds me of looking through old cookbooks.

6. scooter

10/10 this is possibly the most iconic thing in her whol collection. even if you don’t know much about her collection, you know this.

movie outfits

1. floral dress

9/10 maybe unpopular, but i actually like this dress on her. it feels just the right amount of “kit” without being to frilly

2. treehouse

10/10 so cute

3. reporter dress

10/10 same as i said with the first one

4. reporter accessories

10/10 it fits right in with her collection

Beforever

1 reporter dress

7/10 i like it but it just feels.. off?

2. photographer outfit

0/10 what the frick frack, paddy wack, cracker jack, thumbtack is this shit??? what the hell was ag thinking? not only is it ugly as hell, but it also, again, does not fit her character or story at all. It looks like something a 5 year old wear where to easter sunday church service in 2012.

3. chicken keeping set

4/10 again with the pastels? is this supposed to fill the viod left by her old overall set? why AG, why.

4. one peice pajamas

3/10 ugly color and pattern

5. play dress

6/10 actually kinda cute. a breath of fresh air after the last 3. But still not very fitting for her.

6. mini golf outfit

5/10 i want to like it but i don’t. like i said, I havn’t read her books, does she ever play mini golf?

7. christmas outfit

4/10 definantly christmassy, but its just a cheap copy of her old dress, but worse. also the fabric is a ripoff of addy’s dress.

8. gardening outfit

5/10 well its at least better than the last overall outfit, but thats a low bar.

Beforever accesories

1. bed and bedding

4/10 its a weird, vibrant version of her old bed. my eyes are watering

2. radio set

8/10 alright, i admit that i like this one

3. christmas stocking

9/10 this is cute. still knocked a point off just because im mad about beforever >:(

4. garden accessories

6/10 cheap knockoff version of her produce and perserves set

5. garden stand

5/10 no comment

ruthies collection

1. doll and meet outfit

10/10 love ruthie. i know that she would have rocked half the outfits in this post. (not #2 of beforever though. that should be burned)

2. meet accesories

10/10 very cute

3. play outfit

8/10 i don’t know how to feel

4. satin pjs

10/10 ruthies pjs walked so that rebecca’s pjs could run

5. christmas dress

10/10 it has a similar vibe to samantha’s christmas dress, yall know what i mean?

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

That’s all! As we have seen again, beforever has absolutely massacered my girls. I hope AG restores her old collection, but thats laughable considering their antics lately. I hope y’all liked this post!

#kit kittredge #beforever slander #rating american girl dolls #Ruthie Smithens

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rnisa · 2 years

Text

Death Note characters at an Anime Convention

Light either cosplays as Lelouch Lamperouge or Seto Kaiba

L cosplays as the tired bitch from Watamote (?)

Misa Misa would look good in anything. In fact, she changes her cosplays at least twice throughout the day. She dresses up not as an anime character, but as Tiffy from Chucky (carries around a doll of him, too!)

Near stays in the hotel room because he's too nervous to be in a big crowd, but eventually gets over his fear as long as he's wearing something that conceals his entire self. Probably a fursuit.

Mello doesn't enjoy cosplay or conventions, he just goes for the concerts and getting crunk.

Beyond Birthday cosplayed as L. It made Light very uncomfortable when he saw. Fortunately due to being a massive fucking weirdo, BB manages to get himself kicked out. He sneaks back in, though.

Matsuda has the most fun. He and Misa apply to all of the events (cosplay contest and whatnot) and win one of them. Though they're not a couple, they do "couple cosplays"/just matching because both enjoy being asked for pictures. Matsuda definitely walks out with a few phone numbers but he's too shy to call any of them.

Bonus: Light is absolutely batshit and touches as many random people with the DN as possible. Ryuk is impressing random humans (who look crazy to those who haven't been touched, as they're fawning over and taking pictures of nothing). Ryuk is able to interact with more humans who don't know what he is. Ryuk is very amused and soaking in the popularity.

Many people were convinced there was some acid involved.

#light yagami #death note #death note headcanons #death note x reader

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lillywillow · 3 years

Text

Birthday Wishes

Summary: Bucky wants to plan the best party ever for his young daughter

Word Count: 2430

Square Filled: Free Space

Pairings: Singledad!Bucky x Female Reader/ Steve x Peggy

Warnings: None really

Written for @star-spangled-bingo

Ever since the mother to Bucky’s daughter passed away when she was a baby, he had been totally devoted to her and every year on her birthday, he went all out trying to make it the best one ever.

About a month ago, Tony’s daughter Morgan had a mermaid themed party; complete with a woman dressed as a mermaid. Bucky’s daughter Rebecca had totally raved about it and with her own birthday coming up, he made a note to take one of the business cards with him.

...

The moment Bucky walked into the building, he was in awe. The front of the store was full of costumes, dolls, plushies, pirate treasure chests, fairy wings and wands... every kind of fantasy item a child could possibly want and a lot of it looked handmade. Out the back, he could hear squealing and laughter. A party in progress, perhaps?

“Good afternoon, welcome to Childhood Dreams. How may I help you?” the receptionist asked.

“Hi. I’m looking to book a party? It’s for my daughter...”

“I see. Well, before booking a party, you’ll need to make an appointment with Y/N. She likes to customise her parties to the client. She’s currently doing a performance but if you’re happy to wait, she’ll be done soon...”

“I can wait...”

“Great. Follow me please...”

Bucky followed the receptionist into the back. There was a pirate party taking place with all the children dressed up as pirates. There were props and decorations keeping in tone with the theme and an incredible cake. On the stage up the front was the same woman who had played the part of the mermaid at Morgan’s party, this time she was a pirate, enacting a mighty swordfight with another actor. She really put her all into the performance.

Bucky watched her for a moment before the receptionist pulled him along and guided him to an office along the side. The inside of the office was just as cheerful and childlike as the rest of the place. The desk was lined with small trinkets. Along the walls were various photographs of the woman in different costumes. A princess, a fairy, a friendly witch... there was a costume for every occasion. Bucky was in the middle of admiring them when the door opened and the subject from the photos stepped in.

“You must be the gentleman wanting a party,” she smiled, taking off her hat and eye patch before sitting at her desk and encouraging him to take a seat. “I’m Y/N.”

“Yes, that’s right. My name is Bucky and I’m looking to do a birthday party for my daughter Rebecca,” he said, getting his phone out to show her a picture.

Y/N smiled at the photo of the little girl who was dressed as a princess.

“Tell me about Rebecca. I take it she’s a princess fan?”

Bucky’s face lit up as he spoke about his little girl. Everything that she loved about princesses and fairytales, down to her favourite colours, animals and mythical creatures.

“I’m probably rambling now...”

“No, no, I think it’s sweet to see a father so dedicated to his daughter. Let me show you a few of our packages,” she smiled.

Y/N logged into her tablet to show him a few of the princess themed parties they offered. Bucky looked through the options before deciding on a fantasy type one with princesses, wizards and all things in that vein.

“Will you be having the party here or elsewhere?”

“I think home would be best... unless... here would be better? I don’t know...”

“Some children feel more comfortable on home base and some like going out. It’s really up to you. My job is to give your child the best possible experience...”

Bucky nodded slowly and thought.

“She might like a party in her own backyard...”

“That’s totally fine. I’ll need to visit ahead of time just so I can work on a setup. Now, will you be providing your own cake? If not, I can recommend an excellent bakery.”

“A family friend agreed to make the cake,” Bucky replied.

Y/N nodded and jotted down a few notes.

“What about food?”

“Yes, we’ll be making our own food too.”

Y/N nodded again and wrote down a few more notes. After agreeing on a price, a date and time to meet, his address and the date of the party, Bucky started heading out the door.

“One more thing...”

Bucky turned to look at her.

“I like to ask our clients how they found out about our business...”

“A while ago, you threw a mermaid party for a friend of mine’s daughter. Rebecca couldn’t stop talking about it for days after that...”

Y/N smiled fondly.

“I see... well, I guess I’ll see you when I come to do my inspection. Goodbye, Bucky.”

“Bye.”

As Bucky left the office, he could feel his heart fluttering like it hadn’t done in a long time. Ever since his wife’s passing, Bucky hadn’t even looked at another woman. Well, he had looked but he had always been so busy taking care of Rebecca, he didn’t really have time to be pursuing women. Sure on occasion, he would go on a blind date now and then and Steve would babysit but that would be the extent of it. Bucky thought for sure his dating life was over but talking to Y/N just now... it gave him a lot of hope.

...

Time went by and eventually the day arrived when you went to meet Bucky at his place. Bucky greeted you at the door with a smile and ushered you inside. Smiling, you looked around the place. Pictures of Bucky’s life lined the walls and shelves. Photos of him with friends but most of them were of his little girl. One thing you noticed was the lack of pictures of the girl’s mother. There were a few of her before having the child but not many after.

“So, um... what do you need to see?”

“You mentioned a backyard?” you said, referring back to the interview you had a few days ago.

Bucky nodded and showed you the way. First, you scoped out the best place to conduct your performance then took out your measuring tape to size up the props you might need. As you worked, Bucky could see the gears turning in your head.

“Do you go out to different locations a lot?” Bucky asked, trying to strike up a conversation.

“Not a lot but it’s always fun when we do.”

“How long have you been in business?”

“It’s taken me about ten years to get it off the ground. It’s only been gaining popularity in the last year or so...”

“Wait, so you own Childhood Dreams?”

“Sure do. You see, I always believed childhood should be about fun and games before going onto the drudgery of adulthood. And I help out local business in the process. Most of the items available for purchase were made by local artists. I’m always willing to lend a hand when they need it. That’s why I ask about food. There’s a small bakery a few blocks from the building we’re located who does the most beautiful cakes...”

You suddenly were interrupted by something brushing up against your leg. Looking down, you saw the most adorable white cat.

“Why, hello there. Aren’t you a cutie?” you cooed, bending down to pat the snowy feline.

“This is Alpine. Rebecca is just crazy about her. She’s been a really big help ever since...” Bucky paused, feeling a lump in his throat and tears well up in his eyes.

Alpine trotted over to him and purred as he picked her up.

“Sorry. It’s just... ever since my wife passed when Rebecca was a baby; I’ve wanted to give her the best life possible. I try to give equal amounts of time between her so she can look up to me and work so she has the best things in life...”

You went over and gave him a hug.

“You’re a good man, Bucky. I’ve been in this business long enough to tell the devoted parents from the off-standers. Just by spending a few minutes with you, I already know that you love your daughter and think the world of her. Just make sure you spend a few moments taking care of yourself, okay? It doesn’t have to be much, just enough so you feel good too.”

Bucky gave you a soft smile, knowing that you were right. Everyone had told him as such but sometimes, it’s harder to take advice from the people closest to you.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” he offered.

“Actually, I should get going. I’ve got a children’s charity event I need to get ready for. It’s been really nice seeing you again, Bucky. I guess the next time I see you will be for your daughter’s party.”

“See you then,” Bucky smiled.

He couldn’t wait for the party.

...

Finally, the day of Rebecca’s birthday arrived. Bucky had spent the night before busily transforming his humble home into a castle fit for a princess. He wanted everything to be perfect for his little girl’s special day, buying the most glittery, ruffled princess dress for her to wear, complete with a sparkly tiara. Bucky himself hired a prince costume and even managed to obtain a kitty sized dragon costume for Alpine.

Bucky spent the morning cooking, starting with a plate of pancakes for breakfast before moving onto the finishing touches on the food for the party. He had most of it prepared already but some of it needed heating.

The first to arrive was Wanda with her twin boys who were both in costume. The boys instantly ran over to play with Rebecca while Wanda was left holding the cake she had made along with her purse and the present she had bought. Bucky rushed over to help her with the items and after exchanging greetings and pleasantries, she showed his the cake.

It was everything Bucky could have ever hoped for and more. The cake was purple with ice cream cones decorated like castle turrets, topped with little princess and unicorn figurines and the words ‘Happy Birthday, Rebecca’ written in icing along with the age she was turning. Little pink flowers were piped along the sides.

“Thank you so much, Wanda. Becca’s just going to love it.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled, giving him a hug.

Soon after Wanda’s arrival was Steve and Peggy with their child followed by Tony, Pepper and Morgan, Sam with his kid and it wasn’t long before all the party guests had arrived. The adults all mingled while the children played together happily. Right on time, Y/N arrived with her scene partner in full costume. She was wearing a knight costume while her partner (whom she introduced as Phil) was dressed as an ‘evil’ wizard. Bucky settled the kids in front of the makeshift stage and let the performance begin.

Y/N started by introducing herself as a knight dedicated to Princess Rebecca.

“That’s me!” Rebecca squealed in delight, jumping to her feet and clapping.

Y/N knelt down to be level with her, crossing her right arm over her chest in a salute.

“I vow to protect you from the evils of the kingdom.”

Suddenly, Phil jumped out of his hiding place.

“Mwa-ha-ha! I am an evil wizard and I am here to change all the cakes into broccoli!”

Bucky thought he was laying it on a little thick but there was a wave of horrified gasps from the kids.

“Not so fast, evil wizard! We will defeat you! Kids, if I’m going to beat him, I’m going to need your help...”

Y/N and Phil made an amazing pair. While Y/N encouraged the children and even a few of the parents to join in, Phil played off their reactions until he was ‘defeated’.

“You win! I will change my evil ways and use my powers for good!” he dramatically cried.

The children all cheered and clapped. The two actors took a bow and started to pack up as Bucky announced it was time for cake. The kids all raced over to where the cake was being brought out.

“Would you two like to stay for cake?” Bucky offered.

Phil looked at Y/N for permission, a hopeful glint in his eye.

“Sure. We have some time before our next appointment,” she smiled. Phil gave a big, childlike grin.

Once everyone had sung Happy Birthday to Rebecca and she had blown out the candles, the cake was served out. Steve approached Bucky.

“Hey, man. How are you doing?”

“A bit tired but seeing the smile on that little girl’s face makes it all worth it,” he softly sighed.

Steve followed Bucky’s gaze to where Rebecca was talking animatedly to Y/N. He could tell the smile on her face was genuine and not just for show. This was a person who loved their job and loved children.

“Is that the same Y/N you’ve been going on about all week?”

“I haven’t been talking about her that much...”

Steve gave him an incredulous look.

“You know, it’s okay to like her. Why don’t you ask her out?”

“What about Rebecca?”

“Peggy and I can look after her while you go out on date. You deserve to be happy too...”

Bucky thought about it for a while and headed over to Y/N and Rebecca.

“Daddy, daddy! Y/N was the mermaid at Morgan’s party! She’s magical...” Rebecca was absolutely smitten with the woman.

“I see... Can I talk Y/N alone for a minute? Then you can open presents,” he smiled.

Rebecca giggled and hugged his leg before running off to play with her friends.

“She’s a darling,” Y/N warmly smiled.

“She is... Listen, Y/N... I was wondering... if you’re not busy tomorrow night... if maybe you’d like to have dinner with me...”

“Like a date?”

Bucky’s face flushed.

“I mean, if you want it to be...”

Y/N kissed his cheek.

“I’d like that. How about 7:00 at the restaurant around the from the Childhood Dreams building. They do an amazing meal...”

“Sounds perfect,” he smiled.

This was one the best days of Bucky’s life. Not only did he pull off the perfect party for his daughter but he took a step back into the dating world with an incredible woman who somehow stole his heart.

#ssb2021 #Free Space #Birthday Wishes #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #single dad!bucky #Rebecca #Children's birthday party #Acting #phil coulson #Steve Rogers #Friends #Fluff #Alpine

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cuquitalocita · 3 years

Text

...oops |rowaelin month- day 5|

rowaelin masterlist

an: i had a dream about this and i kind of hate the ending buttt enjoy! :)

word count: 3,988

“You did what?”

It wouldn’t take a genius to note that twenty one year- old Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was fuming. And it would have been to no one’s surprise if the princess herself brought the very palace down in flames herself in a matter of moments.

The Queen of Terrasen sighed and with a small shake of her head, daintily placed her teacup on the table in front of her. With her hands crossed in her lap, she turned her blue gaze to her daughter’s twin one, this one holding a fire many would cower from despite the girl’s young age. But it seemed that Evalin Ashryver feared no one but the gods, and she faced her daughter’s seeth head-on.

“Fireheart-”

“An arranged marriage? I wasn’t aware I was a doll who’s life you can just play with. Is this top okay or would you like to change me into a new pretty dress?”

Evalin merely rolled her eyes at her only daughter, allowing her to rant and fume as she pleased for what seemed like hours before the princess finally collapsed into the chair beside her, blue in the face and a vein popping out of her forehead.

“Fireheart,” she began again, this time gentler. “You have to understand, your father and I are simply doing what we believe is best for the country. For our people.”

“By selling me away? I’m not a child anymore mother, and I can make my own decisions just fine.” The anger had vanished, now replaced by a look of utter despair in the princess’ eyes as she gazed at her mother, an attempt to delay what she knew was inevitable.

“We know that Aelin, of course we do, and we would never do anything to purposefully hurt you. Terrasen is… is struggling right now, my love. You may be our only hope.”

The look in her mother’s eyes settled something in her chest and she realized there would be no fighting this- although she most certainly would try. Her parents were set on an arranged marriage for the Princess of Terrasen.

And as she stormed through the door of her chambers, Aelin’s thoughts settled on one in particular.

The Prince of Doranelle better be handsome.

The Wild Princess of Terrasen, they called her.

Well- Aelin thought as she gunned the Corvette through the streets of the capital- if they wanted a wild princess, a wild princess is what they would get.

She remembered a time where her mother had rolled her eyes when her daughter had told her she wanted a Corvette for her sixteenth birthday. She didn’t even have a license, and she would never be driving herself, so what good would it do?

Aelin smirked. Apparently they were perfect for fits of rage.

She vaguely remembered a few lessons Brullo had given her when she had managed to bribe the grumpy body guard with cookies enough for him to teach her how to drive- unbeknownst to her mother, of course. Aelin bet that Evalin Ashryver would just about have a heart attack if she knew her daughter could drive.

Aelin swerved into the left lane without her turn signal, earning an angry honk and a few unkind words from the car behind her.

Well- sort of knew how to drive.

Oops, she thought. From then on, she turned her speed down just a bit.

As Aelin careened through the streets of Terrasen, she realized that as a princess, she truly had been deprived of her own country. Sure, she had been escorted through the streets during the annual parade, and her father used to take her to Malakai’s for her favorite cake every once in a while, but the streets she drove through now were unknown to her.

She passed jogging college kids and mothers with strollers and toddlers, couples holding hands and homeless people that scattered some of the streets. The sight made her heart clench and her knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.

Aelin was so focused on the people around her, she forgot to look forward as she drove through a glaring red light. Luckily there were barely any other cars around her, and the only indication that she had done something wrong came from a distinctly aggravated male voice screaming, “What the fu-”

“Shit!”

Aelin slammed her foot down on the breaks as her gaze came into contact with a man in front of her- she was going full speed towards him as she tried crossing the cross walk. The car came to a screeching halt directly in front of him, but the momentum proved to be too much as the Corvette did in fact make contact with him.

She thought time slowed down as the man went shooting to the ground with a groan of pain.

Yes, she had just hit a man with her car.

But her mother was going to absolute assassinate her.

Another loud groan from outside the window had Aelin shoving the car into park and flying out to the man in front of her, heart in her throat.

As she took in the man, she wondered what the odds were of hitting a person with your car and having them be one of the most attractive people you’ve ever seen. Pretty low, Aelin would think, but like everything else in her life, statistics did not seem to be on her side.

The man was clearly young, maybe a few years older than her, and even though he wore a thick winter jacket to protect him from the Terrasen winter, he was clearly built like a greek god. With silver hair almost matching the snow around him and tan skin that signaled to Aelin he clearly wasn’t from around here, the man could have been on the front page of any popular magazine.

“Fuck!”

Aelin kneeled down beside the man who was thankfully still conscious, face scrunched up in pain and clear anger. It made him look older, she thought as she finally looked at his eyes. They were a stunning green. She wanted to hit herself with her car. Of course they were.

“A-are you okay?” She helped him up, placing a hand on his lower back and pushing him up until he sat forward enough until he could support himself.

The man glared at her, teeth clenched in pain as his gaze burned into her own.

“Are you crazy?” he growled, his voice even deeper than Aelin thought it would have been. “Am I okay? You just hit me with your fucking car!”

Aelin jerked her hand away from him, suddenly defensive. “Look, I am so sorry. I- I wasn’t looking where I was driving and-”

The man scoffed. “Obviously.”

Aelin saw red.

“Well what the fuck were you doing on a crosswalk two seconds before the light turned red? You had plenty of time to move out of the way and you’re blaming me because you couldn’t look around?”

It was moments like these where Aelin realized why Elide’s fiancee liked to call her ‘fire breathing bitch queen.’ Sure, she could acknowledge it. She had just hit the guy with her car, and Aelin had foung a way to blame him.

“Maybe if you had been less careless about crashing Daddy’s car you would have been a bit more careful and we wouldn’t be here right now, Princess.”

Aelin almost slapped him, if not for the derogatory way her title slipped through his tongue. And that was when she realized that he had no idea who she was. The man in front of her didn’t look like an idiot. He wouldn’t be insulting her if he knew who she was. And Aelin realized she didn’t want him to know. Not as the words that spilled through her lips could ruin her entire legacy.

“Watch it.” The words were low and dangerous, and something flashed in the man’s eyes that signaled to her than he had caught the anger lacing her tone. “You don’t know shit about me.”

“I don’t think I need to. Nor do I care enough to want to.”

“Well you’re clearly fine, if you can spew ridiculous insults out of your head at the drop of a dime,” Aelin deadpanned. “So, can we wrap this up?”

“Gladly.” He made to get up, placing his weight on his arm as he pushed himself upward, cutting off with a loud gasp of pain before sinking back to the ground, his green eyes alight with agony. The sight made a pang shoot through Aelin’s chest and she grabbed his arm to steady him before his momentum his head careening toward the ground.

“Shit, we need to take you to the hospital.” She rose, already on her way back to the car.

“No way am I going anywhere with you.”

“That’s fine.” Aelin’s smile was purely saccharine. “You can stay here if you’d like. It’s supposed to drop to -10 in a few hours when the sun goes down but you look pretty toasty to me. Of course, your fingers will fall off before the ambulance gets here, so it’s really give or take.”

The man growled and rubbed a large hand through his hair.

“So what do you say, Superman?” Aelin gestured to the car behind her. “What’s the worst that can happen? I already hit you with my car today.”

If the tone of his voice was any indication, the man was in enough pain to barely put up a fight.

“Fine. But get into another accident and I’m calling the police.”

Aelin almost laughed. Little did he know that she owned the police.

It was only during the awkwardly silent drive to the hospital that Aelin realized the workers at the hospital would recognize her, and then the man beside her would. The thought put a sour taste in Aelin’s mouth. She liked fighting with this man- liked the fact that he treated her with the same amount of respect he would anyone who hit him with their car. Even if he was an infuriating prick of a man.

“Alright,” she pulled the car into park. “Here we are.” The man grunted in acknowledgment.

Surprisingly enough, the ER was close to empty on the Thursday evening and Aelin was grateful that it meant fewer people would recognize her. Who knew how the paparazzi would react if they saw their crown princess in the ER with an unknown man.

As if her ‘issues’ weren’t plastered in the tabloids enough already.

Aelin hadn’t realized how tall the man was until he was standing solidly behind her at the check-in desk. He was close enough that she could feel him at her back and she swore her shoulder had bumped below his own. Gods, he was strong.

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts, and turned to the man at the desk.

“Hi um, I’m here to check in a patient.” If the way the man swallowed was any indication, said patient was glaring daggers from beside her. He turned to the monitor in front of him and began typing something into the computer.

“And, what’s the reason for your visit today?”

Aelin cleared her throat. “Just- just a checkup. He had a bit of a fall, we just wanted to make sure everything is okay.” She felt what must have been a scoff from behind her but ignored it. The man nodded without looking at her or stopping his typing.

“Okay,” he finally said after a few moments of silence. He handed a clipboard to Aelin holding a few pieces of obvious paperwork. “Fill this out and give it back to me when you’re done. It’s a slow day so you should be able to meet with the doctor in just a second.” Aelin nodded, thanking the man and making her way to the empty seats across the desk, dragging her silver-haired friend with her until he collapsed into the seat beside her with a huff.

She ignored him in favor of flicking through the paperwork as casually as she could, attempting to not draw attention to the fact that she clearly knew none of the personal information about the man beside her.

Aelin leaned close to him and almost rolled her eyes when he leaned significantly away.

“Hey,” she whispered. She watched as he rolled his eyes.

“What?”

“What’s your name?” he leveled her with a confused look and she held up the paperwork. But really, what kind of an idiot hit someone with their car and didn’t ask for their name. Aelin was such an idiot. Such an-

“Rowan.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s Rowan.” She raised a brow,

“Rowan…?”

“Whitethorn.” Rowan Whitethorn. The name sent a pang of familiarity through her and Aelin struggled to ruffle through her mind to find where she had heard it before.

“What do you do for work?” The question was out of her mouth before she could berate herself for how stupid it was. His eyebrows shot up to the top of his head.

“Is that on the form?” his voice was defensive but Aelin shrugged nonetheless and Rowan sighed before running a hand through his hair. “Let’s say I’m involved with politics.”

Aelin grimaced. Maybe that was why her mind had blocked out his name. Anyone involved with any kind of politics was automatically dislikeable in Aelin’s eyes. She had been around enough politicians to recognize their slimy exterior.

Rowan clearly noticed her face and scowled at her. “Well not all of us have a choice in our future just because we’re young and irresponsible.” Like you, was what he didn’t have to say. Aelin wanted to kick him. If only he knew. Instead, she rolled her eyes and looked back at the sheet in front of her.

“Date of birth?”

“December 8, 1995.” Aelin almost dropped her pencil but instead turned to Rowan, surprised to find him already looking at her.

“Seriously? You’re twenty- five?”

“What’s your point?”

“All of the high and mighty, ‘I’m your elder’ attitude and you’re only four years older than me.” She shook her head and turned back to the form, ignoring the glare she could feel burning into her skull and trying her best not to think about how good Rowan smelled from beside her. She never would have thought that the scent of pine could be so intoxicating.

“Place of birth?”

“Doranelle.” Aelin wondered if he knew anything of the infamous prince she was to marry. She really should have done some more research before storming out of the palace.

“Height?”

“6’ 4”.”

“Any allergies?”

“Blondes.” Aelin ignored that one.

“Any family history of fatal medical issues?”

“No.”

“Type and reason for pain?”

“An irritation in my head from the woman beside me.”

Aelin threw her pen at him and watched as he winced before looking at her with wide annoyed eyes. But she frankly didn’t give a fuck anymore. She could have let him freeze to death outside and here he was complaining about her.

“You know, this whole thing would be a lot easier if you weren’t such a prick.”

“Actually this whole thing would be a lot easier if you hadn’t-”

Rowan was cut off by the clearing of a throat in front of them, signaling someone had come through the door. The two had been too preoccupied with one another to even notice the doctor standing in front of them.

She’s beautiful, with cinnamon skin and curly hair, and she wears an amused smile on her face as she looks between the two. Aelin and Rowan automatically calm themselves into an acceptable demeanor and Aelin stands to shake hands with the doctor in front of them, handing her the unfinished paperwork.

“Alright, Mr… Whitethorn. I’m Doctor Towers and I’ll be helping you out here today. Why don’t you come back here with me and we can check you out.” Rowan stood up to follow her out of the room before Doctor Towers turned back to look at Aelin. “You can come too, Mrs. Whitethorn. We’ll probably need you to clear a few things up.”

Aelin hated the blush that sprang to her cheeks at the implication that she could be married to Rowan, and she almost laughed. As if she could ever marry someone like him. Their protests are cut off by the creaking of the door and neither Aelin nor Rowan bothers to correct the doctor as she leads them to a section of the hospital filled with open hospital beds and shitty curtains for ‘privacy.’

Pulling one shut, Doctor Towers gestures for Rowan to sit on the bed. Once he does, she leans back on her heels and pulls out her own clipboard.

“Okay, what seems to be the problem today?”

They’re silent for a moment, both looking at each other with wide eyes, not knowing what to say. Eventually, Aelin clears her throat.

“Um, we had a bit of an accident-”

“I would hardly call it an ‘accident.’ She-”

“He decided to walk through a crosswalk during a green light and-”

“You hit me with your car!”

It seemed the entire hospital went silent for a moment before sound resumed once more and Aelin allowed her head to fall into her hands.

“It wasn’t like that. I-”

“You slammed straight into me!”

“I barely knicked you!”

Doctor Towers had been watching the sparring match between the two with wide eyes, clearly still hung up on the fact that he had been hit by a car and was still alive. It took a moment before she shook her head and scribbled a few things down on her piece of paper.

“I hate to ask this,” she cleared her throat. “Was this- um, a crime of passion?”

Aelin and Rowan stared at her blankly before turning to each other, both confused. She tried again.

“I mean- when a wife hits her husband with a car-” Realizing what she was implying, Aelin and Rowan were quick with their rebuttals.

“She’s not-”

“I’m not his wife!”

“Most definitely not-”

“As if I’d ever marry this prick-”

“I would rather hit myself with a car than voluntarily pledge myself to her.”

Aelin rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her defensively. “Now that’s a little dramatic.”

“Well, you did hit me with a car.” If Aelin didn’t know any better, she would say that it almost looked like amusement twisted his lips.

“You’re never gonna get over that, are you?”

“Not likely.”

Doctor Towers cleared her throat from beside them, causing the two to snap their gazes back to her. Whatever they found there had them shut their mouths like scolded children.

“So…” she arched a brow. “It was an accident?”

Rowan nodded while Aelin muttered, “Unfortunately.”

Doctor Towers ignored the comment in favor of looking at Aelin closely. She watched in despair as it clicked in her head who exactly was standing in front of her and Aelin found herself holding her breath. But surprisingly enough, the doctor said nothing, simply turning to Rowan with a knowing look.

“So Mr. Whitethorn, what hurts?”

“Besides everything?” Rowan grimaced as he circled his shoulder. “Mostly my shoulder. I don’t know if I pulled it today specifically, but it’s been bothering me for a while. I think today just aggravated it.”

“It could be a stress fracture,” she mused. “Has anything happened recently in your life that could have caused your anxiety and stress levels to shoot up? It could be anything really from, an increase in work to a big change or big news…”

Rowan let out what Aelin assumed was some sort of laugh. She ignored the shiver it sent down her spine.

“You could say that.”

Doctor Towers didn’t press for more information, merely nodded and wrote something down before looking at Rowan again.

“The only solution I can really offer you right now is to ice it as often as you can for about eight to ten weeks, and it should heal on its own. No cast necessary.”

“Really?” Aelin exclaimed, unable to hold back the relief in her voice. Maybe her mother wouldn’t kill her after all. “That’s great.”

“It is,” Doctor Towers gazed at her through a knowing smile and narrowed eyes. “Just try not to hit people with your car anymore Pr-, ma’am.” Aelin almost laughed at the comment, even more at the mistake she had almost made, but instead nodded with a small smile.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Turning to Rowan, Aelin found him already watching her, a strange look on his face as he gazed between the two women. He opened his mouth to speak when the door to the ER burst open, and the Queen herself strutted through.

Aelin thought that if a look could set a flame, she would be ashes by now.

She felt herself pale as her mother walked toward her on near-silent footsteps, leaving citizens bowing in her wake. But the Queen only had eyes for her daughter. Very angry eyes.

“Aelin Ashryver Galathynius,” she hissed, and Aelin tried not to cringe. “You are in so much trouble young lady.” Aelin opened her mouth to defend herself. “Sneaking out, close to Yulemas in fact, when crime rates are highest, stealing a car-”

“It’s not stealing if it’s mine-” Her mouth snapped shut at the look her mother gave her.

“You’ll come to learn Aelin, that as future queen of this country, you have a status to uphold. You have an image- a reputation, one that should not include sneaking out of the palace unsupervised and ending up in the ER.”

She felt the words like a stab to the heart. Aelin knew the last thing her mother wanted to do was hurt her, especially with her words. But Aelin felt the truth of them to the bottom of her toes, and she was swept into a tidal wave of disappointment in herself. No wonder her parents wanted to marry her off. Of course she couldn’t lead a country on her own.

“Mother, I’m sorry I snuck out. I was just so upset with you. And do you think I meant to end up in the ER? I hit him with my car for Gods sake! I couldn’t just-”

“You’re the princess?”

The surprisingly choked voice came from Rowan, and the two pairs of Ashryver eyes snapped to him in a millisecond. Rowan was looking at Aelin like he had never seen her before, and she frowned at him in confusion. Maybe he hadn’t met a princess before, but this was hardly how she thought he would react. It was as if he was going to be sick.

From beside her, Evalin let out a strangled laugh and Aelin gazed at her mother incredulously. From beside her, Aelin’s mother burst into peals of laughter.

“Well, this is quite the situation, isn’t it?” she laughed. It was a moment before she composed herself and turned to Rowan. “Rowan Whitethorn. I suppose introductions aren’t necessary.”

Rowan was bowing, green eyes hard as they met Aelin’s and stayed there, even as he addressed her mother. “Your majesty. Allow me to express my gratitude for welcoming me into your country.”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Evalin insisted, still smiling as if she couldn’t believe what was happening. “You’re practically family, after all.”

And that was when it hit her.

Let’s just say I’m involved with politics.

Doranelle.

Recent stressful news.

His name.

Rowan’s eyes were on hers as the realization struck that Aelin not only fell into the statistics of people who hit attractive strangers with their car but also happened to hit members of royalty.

No- Aelin thought as she gaped at her betrothed- she most definitely did not fall in favor of most statistics. But they had fallen with her on one account.

The Prince of Doranelle was handsome.

this prompt was: “i accidentally hit you with my car”

taglist:

@story-scribbler

@rowaelinismyotp

@live-the-fangirl-life

@claralady

@surielandiareendgame

#aelin galythinius #rowan whitethorn #aelin #rowan #aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #rowaelin #rowaelin fic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin au #rowaelin modern au #tog sjm #throne of glass #rowaelin month

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quicksilverownsmysoul · 3 years

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13 Going on 30 pt.1

A Peter Maximoff x reader fanfiction based off the movie 13 going on 30.

Summary: You are so excited when the most popular girl in your school agrees to come to your 13th birthday party. But after a cruel prank you find yourself wishing that you were popular and older. By some miracle your wish is granted but isn’t as wonderful as it seems. You turn out to be a major jerk and you don't even talk to your best friend Peter anymore. Can you fix everything and get back to normal or are you stuck living like this forever

Warnings: Angst and some suggestive content. But it’s mostly pure fluff. (Also peter has no powers in this and some scenes will be changed to better fit Peter and so I can be creative with it!)

Word Count: 2759

I am so excited to share this fic with y’all! 13 going on 30 is one of my favorite comfort movies and I thought that adding Peter Maximoff to it would make it even better.

It was 1987 and your birthday party was next week. You were so excited you could barely contain yourself. You were turning 13, you were finally becoming a teenager. It was time to abandon all childish things and live a life of adventure and romance. One that all the movies told you was guaranteed once you became a teenager. You were writing in your notebook during lunch checking off the things you had already gotten for your birthday party. “Balloons, check. Party favors, check. The cutest outfit, check!”

“Your best friend in the whole world who is getting you the best present. Check!” Peter added as he sat down across from you, dropping his lunch tray down on the table. You just rolled our eyes at him.“So I was thinking for this year we should go to the arcade then get ice cream.” Peter muttered his mouth full of the school’s signature sloppy joe sandwich. “Cause if I eat too much ice cream before we play that dance game you love, I'm gonna get sick again.” Some of the sandwich meat dripped out of the corner of his mouth. You handed him a napkin to wipe it, not even disgusted at this point.

You and Peter had been best friends since birth. You had lived right next to each other as kids and you had done everything together. Learning how to walk, the loss of your first tooth, the first day of school. Always together no matter what. That’s what made you so nervous to tell him what was on your mind. “Actually, I was thinking of having a party this year.” You gave him a nervous smile.

“What?!” He choked out in the midst of a coughing fit having nearly choked on his milk. Kids turned around to look at him and you shushed him. ”Peter stop shouting.” You scolded through gritted teeth.

He spoke up again this time, his voice back to it’s normal level. “But it’s always just us.”

You winced, you had figured he was going to respond like this. “I know, I know. But hear me out.” Peter sat back in his chair, arms crossed. “Lucy said she’d come to the party this year, and she’d bring Dylan! You know how much I like him.” You gushed and Peter narrowed his eyes at you.

“How did you convince the most popular girl in school to come to your party?”

“Way harsh peter.” You reached over to his tray attempting to steal one of his fries. His hand slapped yours away. “You make it sound like she doesn't even know I exist.”

“That’s exactly what I’m implying, you and I are at the bottom of the social food chain and you know it.” He pushed his chair back even further, now only balancing on two legs. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” You defended.

He held your gaze with narrowed eyes as you tired your best to maintain eye contact. The minute you looked away he knew he had you. “I know you're lying (y/n). When you can’t look me in the eye you’re hiding something. Spill it.”

You muttered really quickly. “Imayormaynothavedoneherhomeworkforthepastmonth.”

He gave you an exasperated look. “What?”

“I said I may or may not have done her homework for the past month.”

He gave you a disapproving look. “Don’t look at me like that. “ You pouted. “It was the only way she was going to bring Dylan.”

“I don't even know why you want that guy at your party. Or Lucy for that matter. They’re all a bunch of jerks.” Peter got up to put his tray away. You shoved your notebook back into your bag and got up to follow him.

“You don’t even know them Peter.”

“Neither do you.” You frowned at him before turning on your heel and walking away from him. “(y/n) wait.” You sped up and he sped up with you. He caught up to you and grabbed your arm. You refused to look at him.

Peter’s harsh look softened and his grip on your arm loosed. “Look.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “ I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

You gave him a soft smile. “I won’t especially not with my best friend around.” You bumped your shoulder into his. He returned your smile after a while and your face lit up. “It’s going to be fun!”

“If you say so.”

On the day of your party you couldn't even sit still for a single second. Pacing by the front door waiting for Lucy and her friends to arrive. The doorbell rang and you threw open the door, but your smile dropped when you saw it was just Peter. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Geez, it's good to see you too.” He pushed his way into your house as you closed the door behind him.

“Sorry I just thought it was Lucy.”

“And you were disappointed when it was me.” He joked making himself at home on your couch.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“No, I get it. Suddenly you get new friends and I’m old news. Hung out to dry. Dead and buried without a moment to grieve.” He milked his performance trying to make you feel guilty. You sat down next to him knocking his feet off your mother’s coffee table.

“Shut up.” You laughed, he watched you and smiled. You noticed the keyboard strapped to his chest and groaned. “Did you have to bring your keyboard?”

“Duh. It’s part of your gift.”

“I hope that’s not all you got me.”

“Hey!” He mocked being hurt by your words. “And it’s not by the way.” He sat up and made his way to your front door. “I gotta go get it, I left it on your doorstep.” He opened the door and was gone for a minute, making you anxious with anticipation. He poked his head through the doorway and a sweet smile plastered on his lips. “Close your eyes.”

You quickly covered your eyes with your hands. You heard Peter’s sneakers shuffling as he made his way closer to you. “No peeking.”

“I’m not!”

“Yes you are, I can see you looking through the slits of your fingers.” You giggled at the accusation and squeezed your eyes even tighter. You felt the couch dip from his weight as he sat back down next to you. You feel his hands close around yours, and the small action making you blush. He carefully removed your hands from your eyes. “Ta-da!”

Sitting on the coffee table front of you was a huge handmade pink doll house. “I decided to make you your own (y/n) dream house.” Your eyes widened taking it all in. It was beautiful.

“Petey did you make all this?” You asked, heart swelling at the sweet action.

“Yeah,” He admitted a little embarrassed. He scooted closer to the table. “See that’s you in your bubble bath. Reading your favorite magazine” It was a Barbie doll with a picture of your face tape on it. You giggled.” And there’s your room with the giant closet you’ve always wanted and a huge stereo collection. I know how much you love music. And there’s that bum Rick Springfield, sitting on the couch.” As you took in all the details you fell even more in love with the house. Peter had put so much time into this and you adored it.

“And uh, there’s me.” He smiled sheepishly. A picture of him was glued to a piece of cardboard. His picture was making that ‘I’m watching you’ gesture at Rick Springfield. “I’m making sure that creep keeps his hands to himself. He’s only here for his musical talents, nothing else.” You smiled at him. He smiled back and for a second you could have sworn he glanced down at your lips. “Oh! I almost forgot.” He pulled out a red packet and shook it lightly. “Wishing dust.”

You scooted closer to him so you guys could read the package together. “It says wishing dust knows what’s in your heart of hearts. They’ll make all your dreams come true.” He whispered the last part, his eyes cast downward as you watched him rip open the package. He stood up and sprinkled the dust down on the house. You watched in wonder as all the different colors rained down together and decorated the whole house in a pretty shimmer. Your eyes met his and you could feel yourself tearing up. He was so sweet and he didn't even know how much this meant to you.

Just then the doorbell rang and you jumped to your feet. “They’re here!” You wiped away the tears that threatened to fall really quickly before dashing to the door.

“Yay.” Peter cheered sarcastically. You ignored him and sprinted to open the door. Lucy was there along with her friends and Dylan in the back. She was wearing a neon pink dress, the same one you had begged your mom to buy you last week. She had said no obviously.

“Hi Lucy! Thanks for coming!” She just gave you a tight smile and let herself in. She looked around your living room and a sneer made its way to her face when she saw Peter on your couch fiddling with his keyboard.

“Sup Freak.” Lucy shot Peter a sickly sweet smile.

“Sup slut.” Peter replied, mirroring her smile. You felt your mouth open in shock and shot him a deadly look. Lucy just pressed on trying to get a reaction out of Peter.

“I see your hair is still as gray and as ugly as ever.”

“At least my hair is naturally this color. From the look of your roots you should really look into getting a better stylist. You ain’t fooling anybody honey.”

They continued to glare at each other until Lucy finally broke away from his gaze and turned to face you. “Where is this party happening anyway.”

“It’s um downstairs, in the basement.” You motioned towards it, Lucy and her friends made their way down the steps. Peter followed them carrying your dollhouse, but you held your arm out to stop him. “What was that? Why were you being such a jerk?”

“She started it!”

You huffed. “I know, but it’s my party so please try to be nice to her.” He opened his mouth to say something but then decided against it. He pushed past your arm and went down the stairs to the basement. Taking two at a time.

“So this is it.” Lucy picked at the neon colored table cloth. You didn't know what to say as she looked around. “What are we going to do anyway?”

“Well we could play twister, Peter is really good at it.” Peter gave a small salute in acknowledgement as they glanced towards him. “Or we could watch a movie.”’ You said excitedly, making your way over to the VHS rack.” I have a lot of good ones.``

“Lame.” Lucy announced and her friends echoed in agreement.

You felt embarrassed of thinking that they would enjoy such childish things. “Why don't we play a new game?” Lucy suggested.

“What kind of game?” Peter asked, suspicion laced in his tone.

“A fun one.” She made her way towards you and placed her hand on your shoulder as she turned to address Peter. “Not that you would know anything about fun Maximoff.”

“Not that you would know anything about fun.” Peter mocked back in a high pitched tone.

“Real mature.” Peter stuck his tongue out at her.

She turned back to you. “Let’s play seven minutes in heaven.” She leaned in even closer. “You can go first (y/n), and I think you’ll like who you get.” She glanced back and you followed her gaze towards Dylan. He shot you a smile and you felt yourself blush.

All of a sudden you heard your mom. “(y/n)!” Your mother yelled down the stairs. “Your cake is here come and get it!”

“Peter go get it.” Lucy commanded.

“What? No.” He scoffed. You met his gaze and shot him a pleading look. “Fine.” He put the dollhouse away in your closet on the top shelf and made his way to the stairs. “Thanks Petey.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Lucy took off her scarf from around her neck and placed it over your eyes, knotting it tightly in the back. She led you towards the closet and you felt your heart rate pick up. You could hear the giggles of her friends as they closed the door. You stood there in the darkness waiting for Dylan to come in. It had been a while since Lucy had led you to the closet, you sat down putting your arms around your knees hugging them close.

Peter came back down the stairs carrying your cake, as he was coming down Lucy was going up the stairs, her friends trailing behind her. “Hey where are you going?”

She didn't answer, just smiled at him placing a hand on his shoulder. “(y/n) is waiting for you in the closet.” He gave her a confused look, he didn't know he was part of this game. Lucy and her friends continued up the steps, Dylan swiped your cake with his finger smearing the icing and eating it. Peter yanked it away and continued down into the basement. Madonna was playing softly in the background, he put the cake on the table and made his way to the closet, opening the door. He saw you sitting there on the floor, you upon hearing the door squeak open were smiling up at him. “I didn't think you were going to come.”

He nervously smiled back at you and sat down on the floor across from you. You reached your hands out towards him. “Where are you?” He let his hands find yours, fingers intertwined in one another. He had held your hand before but this time it felt so different. He saw you lean in and he did the same. He was inches away from your lips when you whispered. “Oh Dylan.” He pulled back abruptly.

“It’s not Dylan, It’s Peter.” You yanked your hands away from his and tore the scarf away from your eyes.

“What are you doing here?” You felt panic take over you. “Where is Dylan?”

“He left. They all did, no one is here.” You stood up and saw that Peter was right. Your snack table stood untouched and Lucy, and Dylan were no where to be found. You immediately turned on Peter. “What did you do?”

Peter looked at you in disbelief. “Nothing!”

“Yes you did!” You were screaming at him at this point.

“I just went to get your cake!” He screamed back.

“Get out.” you whispered. Peter looked at you, clearly hurt that you were pushing him away. “GET OUT!” You screamed as you pushed him out of the closet.

“(y/n) wait!” He tried holding the door open as you desperately tried shutting it. “(y/n) let me talk to you!”

“Peter stop.” You cried.

“(y/n)-”

“No!” You managed to shut the door and lock it. You sat back down on the floor and put the blindfold back over your eyes.

“(y/n) Please!” You could hear Peter on the other side of the door even with your hands covering your ears. “Please come out!”

“I hate you!” You screamed as his voice stopped.

“You don’t mean that.” He muttered, tears of his own threatening to spill.

“Yes I do! I hate you! I hate me! I hate everything!” You were so angry and embarrassed and that you really thought Lucy was your friend. And that you were going to get to kiss Dylan.

“(y/n) what are you talking about?”

“I want to be thirty!” You wailed through your tears.

“Just let me play you this song.” Peter yelled back. He slung his keyboard over his head and started to mess with it trying to find the right key. “It’ll make you feel better!”

You ignored him continuing to cry. “I wanna be thirty! I wanna be thirty and flirty and thriving.” You swing your head back shaking the shelf behind you. The wishing dust from the dollhouse fell down all around you but you didn't even notice. You could faintly hear Peter playing some tune on his keyboard but you ignored it. Just muttering through your tears over and over how you wanted to be thirty, flirty and thriving. At the moment you wanted to be anywhere but there.

#quicksilver xmen #quicksilver xmen x reader #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver x you #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver #peter maximoff imagine #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #xmen fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel x y/n #marvel fanfiction #13 going on 30 #13 going on 30 au

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ronnie-azumane · 4 years

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Haikyuu guys as stuff my dad did

This idea has been in my brain for a while, so I'm writing it out. Hope y'all enjoy :)

CW: idn, its pretty wholesome

Daichi answers your frantic phone call home expressing that you forgot your backpack and laptop for college when you went home over the weekend. Expressing that all of your notes are in the backpack, he decides to wake-up extra early Monday morning and make the 2 1/2 hour drive to your university, then drive all the way back to your hometown to go to work.

Sugawara came up with the best hiding spot for you while playing hide and seek at your 7th birthday party. He squeezed you in-between the back of the couch and the back couch cushions. Then, he sat in front of it to conceal the awkward lump it made in the couch. It took the others 30 minutes before giving up and telling you to come out.

Asahi asks you to style his hair for a zoom meeting he has later that day. After some deliberation, you both decide to do a mohawk style. He braces himself as you run off to get the brush, hairspray, hair gel, and hairdryer.

Nishinoya still wears the Annoying Orange shirt you got him when you were in 3rd grade. It's faded and has a giant picture of Annoying Orange on it, which faded from popularity in 2010, but he still wears it. In public.

Tanaka makes the dumbest jokes while in the audience of your colorguard/dance competitions. For example, he asked your mom if he should shout "Go get 'em George" to the group of girls performing to confuse everyone. Another favorite joke o his is to chant "the worm, the worm,, we worship the worm" while the previous team is carrying out their floor.

Ennoshida talks with you as you make one of the biggest changes in your life. Midway through your second semester at university, you determine that business is not for you, however, you do not have a backup plan. Talking with him, you end up changing your major to Geography, and now you love every second of it.

Kageyama drinks the milk out of you cereal. You hate the taste of milk by itself, but you don't want to eat dry cereal. To not waste milk, he drinks it after you finish eating your cereal.

Hinata fails miserably when your mom tells him to reapply the medical glue on your forehead. The day before, your sister threw a wooden block at you, causing a major tear in your head. Your mom took you to the emergency room, but they were busy and it was a school night, so they told her to just take some liquid band aid (which we called glue) and close the wound. Your mom told him to replace the glue, and he took ELMERS GLUE and placed it on the open wound. It hurt like a bitch.

Tsukishima takes you to go see the museum of natural history once a month. He knows you're the odd girl out of your class that would rather play with dinosaurs than dolls, so he takes you to see the dinosaur fossils. He also gets a discount because his place of work donated a significant amount of money and resources to one of the exhibits.

Yamaguchi helped set up your setup once you moved to zoom university. He attached your laptop to a monitor his job had extra, so now you feel like a badass whenever you use the two screens.

Oikawa out of nowhere invites all his high school friends over to stay the week at your house. A trip that probably should have been planned in weeks, even months, is planned in just a weekend. Everyone ends up sleeping on air mattresses and blankets on the floor due to your mom just finishing up replacing the floors in the house (she was not too happy with the sudden trip, but was welcoming anyway)

Iwaizumi makes you watch Godzilla with him whenever it's on TV. Some of his fondest memories include receiving Godzilla themed ornaments from his mom ever Christmas. He also unironically watches those cheesy fan-made Godzilla fights on YouTube for hours on end. Man just likes Godzilla.

Hanamaki and you wear funny hats to a volunteer cookout. The organizers told every one to wear a hat so that their hair didn't get in the food, but you two take it a step further. You wear a banana hat while he wears a hotdog hat.

Matsukawa taught you how to make all kinds of breakfast food at a young age. Whether it was a simple as a fried egg or as complex as French toast, he worked with you until the recipe came out perfect.

Kyotani scares the other parents off when it comes to the silent auction selling the class are projects. Now the shelf you and your kindergarten classmates fingerprinted flowers and bugs on sits proudly in your closet holding crafting supplies.

Ushijima scolds you for leaving the lights on. Most parents do that already, but he takes it to a new extreme. Your mom explains that he would never turn the lights on in his apartment when he was in college and would simply get his homework done before dark. Sometimes, if he had something to do, he would light a candle to finish something up.

Tendou recalls a story in which he stole a bus battery with his buddies to power an air conditioned tent at boy scout camp. He also recalls the year he and his friends tried to build a pool in the wilderness at the same count, only to get caught and reprimanded for it before filling it with water which totally had nothing to do with a camp counselor finding it and having a Vietnam flashback

Goshiki watches anime with you. He always acts like he is uninterested in whatever show is on, but he soon gets super into it and it will be the only thing he talks about for a week.

Kuroo sits at the table with you until 2am working on that math assignment you have been struggling with. You've definitely run out of tears to cry, and had to redo the assignment twice, but he is guiding you through the answers

Yaku isn't a fan of all the pets you and your mom have collected over the years. I mean, in his defense, at one point we had 8 cats an 3 dogs. However, he is also super cuddly with them, always giving them nose boops and belly rubs.

Kenma plays Xbox, Wii, and the ds with you. He doesn't find the bulk of the games you play with him entertaining, but he is willing to run through LEGO Star Wars with you. His personal favorite to play is Mario Kart and he doesn't let you win >:(

Lev is trying to convince the family to let him take the position in Alaska with higher pay. When mom raised the concern that the long winters wouldn't do well for your mental health, his counter argument was, "Yeah, and that sucks, but hear me out. We could have a pet Polar Bear." We didn't move to Alaska

Bokuto was definitely the most enthusiastic dad at the girl scout father daughter dance. He twirled you around in your pretty little JC Penney dress and made sure you two were the center of the dance floor. At one point, he lifted you above his head with each foot in a hand like a cheerleader. Truly terrifying.

Akaashi drives out to the 24-hour pharmacy to pick up some cold medicine when you couldn't sleep due to a stuffy nose. He also checks up on you every hour when you are coughing with some mysterious disease (due to the lack of tests and priority of the high-risk, I will never know if I had Covid when I got sick in late March)

Aone gives you the biggest hug after you get released from the graduation ceremony. He isn't the best with words, so this hug speaks so much to you.

Terushima has been taking you to Mardi Gras in New Orleans since you were a baby. He doesn't care that it's mostly an adult party, he believes that everyone in the family should enjoy a good ol' Mardi Gras

Atsumu carries you on his shoulders all the time when you're small. He just thinks it's the cutest thing.

Osamu makes sure to host a crawfish boil every year. Whether its the neighbors, family, both, or just the household, you can expect some good, spicy crawfish with corn and potatoes whenever he cooks.

Kita teaches you how to drive a stick shift. He's frustrated that you cant move three feet before stalling, but then realizes that the issue was that you were in third gear, not first. He is now impressed that you were even able to start moving at third gear.

Sakusa takes you along with him to work. His job is full of tough men, so when they see him with you in a little blue dress-up tutu and a plastic tiara on your head, their hearts just melt.

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fairestwriting · 4 years

Text

diasomnia index

all

going on dates with their s/o

malleus simping for reader and how diasomnia gang reacts to it

jade and floyd’s reaction to their little sister dating them

with fem s/o that has a beautiful singing voice

with s/o who’s good at baking

with s/o who's similar to morticia addams

playing spin the bottle with their crush

with s/o passing out by overworking but insisting to go back to work

malleus draconia

soulmate au

showing yuu his dragon form

what being his mate entails

reaction to reader falling asleep under a tree

reaction to crush describing their type like in guy.exe vil’s reaction to reader (his younger sister) dating him

lilia and silver’s reaction to reader (also lilia’s child) dating him

first kiss with s/o at a picnic

s/o’s birthday is today, but she was too shy to tell him about it before

finding female mc depressed in the rain

setting reader up with his vice dorm leader but falling for them in the process

yandere malleus with broken s/o

with vampire s/o who’s craving his blood

with s/o that plays a lot of otome games

with reader who’s always surrounded by cats

with a reader who’s overprotective of grim

reaction to yuu sleeping with a body pillow of him

with cyber goth s/o

s/o asks him to pose with the swag face

getting caught checking out fem crush

with touch starved s/o

with feline beastman s/o

catching his crush checking him out

with small but very strong s/o

reaction to yuu crying because he reminds them of their older sibling

fem s/o laying across his lap expecting affection

reaction to cheerful fem s/o snapping at someone

with s/o who’s taking care of a cat that oddly resembles him and rivals him getting all of s/o’s affection

stargazing with his little sister

reaction to s/o's ex being aggressive towards them

being proposed to first by fem s/o

watching a disney classic with him

carnival date with his s/o

meeting fem reader who he's seen in his dreams before

little sister who's going to nrc now glomps him upon arrival

playing the pocky game with his s/o

with cuddly fem s/o

reacting to s/o wearing a maid outfit

gifting a big library to his s/o

wearing a maid dress

reaction to s/o's ex being aggressive towards them, with s/o managing to fend them off

with gentle giant boyfriend

reaction to reader getting into a fight with someone who's insulted him

with s/o who fronts band that makes music about social issues

visiting mc's world

getting a goodnight kiss from yuu

lilia vanrouge

what being his mate entails

with hyper and chaotic s/o

reaction to innocent crush singing touch you

s/o’s birthday is today, but she was too shy to tell him about it before

with reader who’s always surrounded by cats

being playfully jealous with reader

setting reader up with his dorm leader and falling for them in the process

receiving miniature doll of him from fem s/o

with dancer s/o who’s injured but refuses help

with feline beastman s/o

yuu showing him music from their world

with cutesy cheerful s/o

reaction to s/o's ex being aggressive towards them

reaction to usually nonchalant s/o getting flustered

with tall and flirty fem s/o

realizing he has a crush

reaction to s/o's ex being aggressive towards them, with s/o managing to fend them off

makeout session with lipstick stains

with mainstream cosplayer s/o

helping his friend get over a cheating ex

silver

vil’s reaction to reader (his younger sister) dating him

first kiss with s/o at a picnic

being picked on by older students

kissing fem s/o who’s too cute for her own good

having a crush + confessing to reader

getting a massage from his s/o

vampire au, fem s/o offers them her blood

shy fem s/o kabedons him

suffering from hanahaki disease

with s/o who fronts band that makes music about social issues

bridal carrying fem s/o who sprained her ankle

sebek zigvolt

with touch starved affectionate s/o

pining headcanons

first kiss with s/o at a picnic

malleus’ reaction to reader (his younger sister) dating him

reaction to yuu sleeping with a body pillow of him

getting caught checking out fem crush

with very photogenic/videogenic fem mc

vampire au, fem s/o offers them her blood

with crush who likes watching him train

crushing on malleus' s/o

mc shows him popular music from their world

with delinquent-looking s/o who somehow carries themselves elegantly

bridal carrying fem s/o who sprained her ankle

with s/o who fronts band that makes music about social issues

reacting to seeing reader cry

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out-of-jams · 4 years

Text

Across the Board || i || kth

(banner done by the great @kimtaehyunq )

↠ Across the Board ↞ You’d hit a low point in life. With bills piling up and your bank account empty, you were starting to get desperate. So when you got the invite to your oldest friend’s birthday party being hosted at the most popular underground casino in town, what did you possibly have to lose? You took what little you had left in your savings, put your card skills to use, and entered a private blackjack game.

And you’d won. And went back for more, and more, and more.

Until you lost.

And now you’re indebted to the city’s most dangerous mob boss, forced to pay your dues in blood one way or another. With a gun pushed into your hands and your life at stake; once you’re in, you’re in. You’ll never get out.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings/Genre: Set in the Roaring 20s! Gambling. Mature themes. Mafia!au. Mafia Don!Taehyung. Violence. Law breaking. Alcohol use. Death of minor characters. Explicit language. Enemies to lovers. Short series. 18+

|| Next | Masterlist | |

Danger.

It was a word right up there alongside the definition for the term “stupidity.” While not next to each other in the dictionary, they were close enough that your brain was unable to pick out the subtle differences. Perhaps you’d just always had a habit for screwing your life up, or maybe it was just genetics. Who knew?

You should have listened to the warnings, should have stopped yourself before you got in too deep. Hell, you should have done a lot of things. But you had no one to blame for your current situation except for yourself. However, if you’d learned anything throughout your twenty-two short years of life, it was that life lessons didn’t mean jack if you didn’t get yourself into messes into the first place.

Though staring down the barrel of a revolver sure was a funny way of going about it.

The air in the dimly lit back corner room was tense enough to hear the sound of a casino chip fall to the ground somewhere beyond the shut door. None of the six men sitting around the round, green felted table spoke a word. Their attention — and yours, consequently — was fixed on the single man in the room who barely even batted an eye at the clear panic evident on your face.

He sat on the opposite side of you; the scowl pulling down his bow shaped lips and the narrowing of his fierce gaze had fear chilling your veins. That man was much like an exotic animal; beautiful beyond belief, but dangerous right beneath the surface. A carnivore staring down his prey. The single light above the table threw his shadow against the wall as he casually aimed his pistol right between your eyes.

“You were saying, dollface?”

His neatly parted, straight black hair fell across his face when he leaned forward as if the next words out of your mouth would seal your fate. Not that the thought of having to have your blood cleaned from the expensive carpet beneath his expensive shoes seemed to bother him in the slightest. In fact, he’d look almost bored if it weren’t for the dangerous gleam behind his espresso irises.

“I—” You cut yourself off, swallowing roughly and glancing back down at the table. A depleted deck of cards sat in the center, two hands laid out on the surface. One was yours — a ten of diamonds and a ten of clubs — and the other his. A red ace of spades and a black jack of hearts.

You were out of money.

Having bet more than you possessed, you were also out of chances.

“It’s simple. You owe me money as promised,” his deep, baritone voice spoke up casually over the noise of your heart beating through your chest. “Either hand it over, or you won’t be leaving this room alive. Your choice.”

You closed your eyes for a moment too long to be called a blink, and cursed yourself for ever getting into this situation.

One Month Ago

Final Notice of Payment

Ms. L/n,

This is a reminder that you have a balance of $20.54 that is past due. Please make a one time payment no later than—

“Oh, please.” The bill enclosed envelope hit the top of the small, circular dining room table. Or was it the kitchen table? It was hard to tell, seeing as how they were one and the same.

A sigh escaped your lips as you leaned back against the creaky wooden chair, fingers massaging your temples. That was the third bill you’d come across that morning and every single one of them was the final notice of payment. The last warning they’d give before sending someone to collect what was owed.

It hadn’t always been like that. You hadn’t always been in such an insurmountable amount of debt, not until recently. Two months ago your mother, the last bit of family you had left, died. Passed away clinging to the sheets of the hospital bed she’d been laid up in for the past half a year. Cancer, the doctors had said. From all of the cigarettes she’d burned through in the past decade or so.

Irrecoverable, they’d said.

No amount of “sorry’s” or meaningless condolences could fix the massive amount of money that the hospital billed you. Or the debt that your mother left behind, along with her slim-boned corpse that you’d had to bury in the corner of the city cemetery. Perhaps if you’d known who your father was, you could’ve laid her to rest in the space next to his own, but you didn’t. Weren’t fortunate enough to.

Bills had piled up. Rent for the tiny studio apartment the two of you had shared was demanded by the pigeon-toed old woman who owned the rundown, overpriced building. Her husband had passed away two years ago and ever since then, she’d been relentless. She pounded on your door at approximately eight in the morning everyday, shouting through the thin wood that you had until the week was up to pay what was owed. Otherwise you’d be tossed out onto the street with only the clothes on your back.

Combined with the utility bill and the fact that you still had to come up with the dough to feed yourself, you were trapped. The meagre pennies you got from your waitressing job at the diner three blocks away weren’t nearly enough. Nothing would be enough. Not unless you wanted to sell your body on the street corners in the late of night.

Which you didn’t. And you wouldn’t. You’d be more likely to end up dead in a ditch somewhere with your throat cut than out of debt. The city wasn’t safe for women, less so by those men who saw prostitutes as no more than an object to relieve stress onto. And you refused to become another headline in the paper.

Tossing the opened envelope across the table, you paused when familiar handwriting caught your eye on top of the rest of the mail pile. Addressed to you in a curling script that only ever came from someone who could afford a private tutor. You sighed, carefully sliding a knife along the top to slice it open. A waft of sweet, cherry scented perfume filled your tiny kitchen and you almost rolled your eyes at the unnecessary addition.

Jennie, your oldest friend since high school, always had an inclination for the unnecessary. Born with a silver spoon in her mouth and a gold digger for a mother, she’d had nothing else to waste her time on. How you’d even gotten on as friends with such a gap between tax brackets was still a mystery to you. Maybe it was because she’d always used her wealth and status to get the two of you out of trouble. Whether it was from breaking into the school late at night to get wasted in the halls with the rest of her friends, or to get away with slipping things from the corner store into your dress pockets.

She’d always been a rule breaker.

Which was exactly why when you read the contents of the letter, a laugh tumbled from your mouth. It was an invitation to celebrate her upcoming twenty-third birthday in three day’s time. That wouldn’t have been anything out of the ordinary, however, if it weren’t for the location. There wasn’t an exact address, there never was. Just a thin piece of cardboard the size of your hand that fell from the envelope. A playing card — a red ace. One that looked normal except for the center that had the name of a restaurant in the heart of the most rich part of downtown printed on it.

It was a ticket to the most popular underground casino in the whole city. No one knew how to get one, how to get your name onto the list that only catered to the rich and powerful. Located beneath a restaurant, it had grown to be infamous almost overnight since gambling and alcohol was outlawed. Even the coppers knew well enough to leave the establishment alone.

The only way to gain entrance was by flashing a ticket to one of the restaurant staff. That was what you’d heard, at least. You had no idea how May had managed to secure one, let alone enough to cover what you knew would be a large party of her closest friends.

Flicking the corner of the card, you couldn’t believe your luck.

Your mother hadn’t taught you very many things, had been too busy gossiping with her friends over a carton of cigarettes to bother. What she had passed down, however, was her ability to draw cards. To play blackjack with the best of them. That’d been the only thing she’d ever bothered to teach you; when she’d had too many sips of wine and her eyes had glazed over with memories of the life she used to live.

She’d sit you down and make you memorize the names and faces of the cards until you could count them forward and backwards. Could predict what card would be drawn and when. Where she’d learned it, she’d never told you. But that didn’t matter now. Couldn’t, seeing as she was dead and all.

Grinning, you flopped back into your chair.

Maybe you’d be able to pay off your debts after all.

And you had. Paid off your debt, that is.

After clearing out your savings account of the last fifteen dollars you had left to your name, you’d dolled yourself up and gone with Jennie and her friends. Had left the group of flappers tittering and groaning drunk at the line of slot machines at the back of the casino. Calls of bets being placed, dough exchanging for chips, and illegal cocktails pouring into glasses played as a soundtrack.

None of the card tables scattered across the underground establishment held what you’d been looking for. Neither roulette, nor craps, nor slots. The bartender had been the one to tell you where the real games were, where the cash was. A door down a tiny back hallway led to a room where private games were held. If you managed to win at one, he’d told you, then you’d win not only the pot, but an invitation to come back and play again.

Which had been an opportunity that you just couldn’t pass up. No matter the risk.

You’d won.

And now you were addicted.

To the money, the lifestyle, the adrenaline that shot through your veins like a particularly harsh sip of gin. Which was exactly why you’d gone back. Again, and again, and again, every single week for the past month. It wasn’t your fault that it was so easy. So simple to swindle your way into getting your name permanently written down on the entry list.

Oh, and the men.

It was a different group every week, but they weren’t all that dissimilar from one another. They’d sit there and smoke their cigars and drink their whiskey, all while silently mocking you with their eyes. Like they thought they were better than you just because they had a dick between their legs.

You were addicted to that too.

To watching the way their faces would fall in disbelief every single time you cleared the pot and took their money. And how their voices would raise in pitch with their countless complaints about how some lowly broad conned them out of their pocket change. Because that’s all that money was to people like them.

Change.

They were rich. You could tell by the custom suits they wore, the cologne they bathed in, the way they carried themselves. The money they gambled with always had a cap, a max amount that they were willing to bet. And the games never got too crazy, didn’t escalate once they lost to you. Which was a shame really, because you wanted more. Craved more. More of what, you weren’t too sure, but the high that playing brought only lasted so long until you came crashing back down.

Which was exactly when fate decided to change the routine.

“Here to play again, miss?” Felix, the same teenage boy who always manned the door to the gambling room, asked with a slight tilt of his head. His light brunette hair was tucked beneath a bowler hat, different from the usual fedora. Back to the door, he was standing up straight instead of his normal slouch. And the way his mouth was taught around the edges was out of the ordinary as well.

The boy didn’t have a cigarette clenched between his teeth, which should have been enough to set off the bells in your head. But it didn’t. Because you were too bullheaded, had gotten too cocky in the terms of things.

“You know me too well, Felix.” You reached out a hand to pat the lanky boy on his suit clad arm lightly, a smile pulling up at your red painted lips. “Is the usual table ready?”

The volume in the casino wasn’t as loud either, nor were there quite as many patrons. But you’d just chalked that up to the heavy rain pounding a path into the concrete outside. Though the lack of customers did nothing to eliminate the permanent smell of cigarette smoke that lingered, hidden in the walls beneath the fancy looking wallpaper.

“I don’t know if you want to play today, miss.” Felix glanced away from you with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. You blamed the flickering light in the corner of the hall for the way his freckles stood out amongst his slowly paling cheeks.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

He didn’t answer. Not at first. Silence lingered in the hall, drowning in the soft jazz music coming from the band on the stage near the back of the joint. It took the raising of your other brow for the underaged boy to finally answer.

“It’s just not a good day for gambling.”

Now that had you leaning forward until you could finally catch his flighty gaze, voice hushed in a playful whisper. “Oh really, how so? Is there a stool-pigeon running about somewhere? Should we be expecting the coppers to come kicking down the door any minute?”

“No. I—”

“Then why can’t I play, Felix?” You were starting to get irritated. The week had been long and you were ready to forget about it all for the next few hours. Buried beneath the weight of a handful of cards and glass full of gin.

Either Felix could see your growing impatience, or there really was something he was hiding, because he stepped even further in front of the door. “You don’t want to play with this group, miss. They aren’t as welcoming as the others are. It’d be best if you just went home.”

“You ca—”

“And what’s going on back here?” That wasn’t Felix’s voice and neither was it yours. You whipped around, surprised at the new addition.

The man behind you had honey brown hair parted and styled carefully until it was brushed back away from his heart-shaped face. Though some of it still hung in front of a single, dark eye. His other was uncovered, a scar running through his eyebrow and cutting it in half. Everything about him was angular, sharp. From his jawline to the slope of his nose and the corners of his full lips.

One look and you already pegged him for a cake-eater, a ladies man, if you’d ever seen one. Hell, he even dressed like he came right off the front cover of one of those Time magazines that littered the newspaper stands on every street corner. With a navy blue suit and perfect, unscuffed shoes.

“No, sir,” Felix attempted to pull the man’s attention from you unsuccessfully. “The missus here was just leaving.”

The Stranger hummed, tilting his head to study you with those sharp eyes of his. “Were you, bunny? Just leaving?”

You couldn’t help the twitch of your nose at the unfavorable nickname, squaring your shoulders and crossing your arms with a scoff. “No, I wasn’t. I want to play a few rounds, you see, but he won’t let me.”

Perhaps you should have felt bad for ratting out the kid, but you didn’t. Especially not when the Stranger huffed a laugh, a distinct ha-ha-ha! in amusement. Though there was something else in his eyes that you couldn’t name. Didn’t want to acknowledge. “You want to play a hand of blackjack, is that right?”

“Ab-so-lute-ly.” You raised an eyebrow at the man and waved a hand through the air. “I can play.”

“Oh,” He asked, taking a step closer until you had to crane your neck back to meet his imploring gaze. “Playing isn’t cheap.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I can pay too.”

He must have been waiting for that answer if the smirk that pulled at his lips was any indication. And he finally, finally broke eye contact to wave aside the boy behind you. “Well, did the dame make herself clear or not? She wants to play.”

You happened to turn just in time to catch the alarm that flickered across Felix’s face as he stepped to the side to reveal the door behind him. Felix reached out with a ringed hand to twist the brass knob of the door. It swung open without a sound and he gave you a quick, wide-eyed stare filled with a warning you couldn’t interpret, before looking away.

“Well?” The Stranger questioned from over your shoulder. You could smell his cologne now; husky with a hint of sweet orange.

His words were an invitation if you’d ever heard one. And you didn’t want to look like a bluenose, a prude, so you stepped inside without hesitation. Though perhaps you should have taken Felix’s unspoken warning, for you had no idea just what it was that you were walking into.

Inside the cramped room was filled with a haze of cigar smoke, which wasn’t unusual at all. What was, however, was the group of six men sitting at the circular table as you rounded the corner with the Stranger at your back. They were beautiful, all of them. A huge contrast to the usual rabble that came to play. Hell, even underneath the dim light you couldn't spot a single flaw on them.

No one noticed your entrance at first.

Well, at least not until the Stranger cleared his throat. “Gentleman.”

His greeting sounded like it toed somewhere on the line between amusement and respect.

All movement in the room came to a halt as six men looked up from where they’d been bent over the blackjack table. If you’d been a little less prideful and a lot more careful, then perhaps the overbearing confidence that bled from their pores would have given you pause. But as it was, you stood standing, back straight and head held high. Even while their eyes roamed your figure like tigers behind a cage at the zoo right before feeding time.

A pause hovered in the air, lingering with a tension that crawled onto your skin. What seemed like hours passed merely in seconds before it was broken.

“And who’s this?” The question came from the fella who sat in the chair closest to where you stood. He was turned around with his arm propped up on the back of it, head tilted to the side in curiosity. His hair was styled similar to the Stranger’s, though his was darker and the gel pushed through the strands made it gleam silver beneath the dim lamp that hung above the table.

High cheekbones and skin the same color as molten honey, his jaw worked around a piece of gum stuck between his teeth. A smirk pulled up at the corner of his mouth, dark eyes glittering with a touch of interest. With a black and white suit that complimented the shade of his hair, the man was nothing if not a billboard: flashy. Handsome.

“I found bunny here outside arguing with Felix. Something about wanting to play a few rounds of blackjack. Isn’t that right?” The Stranger placed a heavy palm between your shoulder blades. What might have been intended to come off as comforting, only succeeded in making you feel the opposite. Like you were being put on display.

You didn’t let it show on your face. “That’s right.”

“Oh?” Gum Chewer’s smirk grew broader at that, but he said nothing else. Just leaned back in his chair.

“What do you say, should we let her play?” Blond hair, pink kissable lips and dangerous, dangerous eyes. The slim man sitting next to Gum Chewer was attractive in a pretty way that made you envious of his easy-on-the-eyes looks.

While the question may have been asked to the whole room, none of them answered it. Instead they looked towards one of the men sitting in the middle who had yet to speak. If you’d thought the rest of them were a sight for sore eyes, well, they had nothing on him. How your attention hadn’t been drawn to him the moment you walked through the door, you didn’t know.

He wasn’t even looking at you and you already felt tongue-tied. Busying himself with shuffling the cards in his hands against the green felt table, the expensive looking rings adorning his slender fingers caught your eye. He was what your mother would’ve called a timeless beauty. The type of handsome that meant he could walk the streets of the city in nothing but a sack and he’d have women throwing themselves at his feet.

Hair the same shade as a moonless sky made him look intimidating, like he belonged to the shadows themselves. A straight nose, cupid bow lips and long eyelashes that would make any broad jealous; he gave off the type of power that could make even the bravest of men cower at his feet. The longer he took to respond, the more the room grew still. As if your fate was in the hands of a man who’s name you didn’t even know.

Though perhaps it was.

A muffled thud echoed throughout the room as he tapped the deck of cards against the table once, twice, before sliding them over to the fella to his left. Plucking up the glass of scotch in front of him, he finally looked up. And graced you with the prettiest chocolate brown eyes you’d ever seen.

“What’s your name, dollface?”

tagged: @bewitch-me @jxngkooksthxghs @kaitswrld @clarissalance @namurkive @ifntelyinspirit @kotaevln @red--aren @ggukkieland @moonlitmyg @i-like-puppy-mg @aianloveseven @drumsofheaven @figurativehoe00 @wonhoandonly @wacdon @hear-me-growl @milaridez7 @1088x1088 @alana-ba @vlntaeg

#bangtanarmynet #networkbangtan #magicshopnet #btsbookclub #ficswithluv #bts #kim taehyung #taehyung smut #jungkook #jimin #namjoon #hoseok #seokjin #yoongi

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