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nctinkverse · 4 months

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Promissa Redux - Chapter 1

Synopsis: At 32, divorced with a wonderful 5-year-old daughter, questions from your teenage years resurface. The fairy tales and romance novels painted a perfect picture after the "happily ever after," but reality begged to differ. Mrs. Jung was your title for two years, and you cherished it.

Life, however, took a detour far from the expected plotlines, lacking the dramatic twists of a superhero movie. The not-so-happily ever after unfolded with its share of uncertainties, tough decisions, and the consequences of chosen paths.

Now, holding an engagement ring box you stumbled upon, the questions about love, endings, and new beginnings arise again, demanding answers you must seek soon.

Warnings: minnors do not interact!, for this chapter we've got angst, sex, and curse words.

Pairing: jaehyun x f. reader

Word count: 2.400

Unauthorized copying or translation of this work is strictly prohibited.

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Chapter 1 - Shattered promises & Broken vows.

One day, you promised yourself, one day you're gonna wake up and forget what you once had, what you gave up. It will stop. You won't think about it every time you get a moment for yourself. But right now, you can still remember the choices you had to make.

You feel yourself coming down, orgasms are a good thing, you can't deny it, so you breathe with your nails buried deep in your boyfriend's back. Orgasms are good, they aren't always granted, they aren't always mind-blowing, but they relax you, they have the power of making sure you cannot think. Just enjoy the high, orgasms always tell you. And you listen.

You listen because it's either that or hear the voices in your head saying it will never make you feel the way he used to. It's either go all in or give in to the sadness that is always lurking in your heart, telling you what you can't hear. So, you go high, but you come down, and all you can think is... you need to pee.

Getting up with shaking legs is a light feeling, peeing when you just had sex is also relieving, but almost stumbling back to bed because you stomp on something is no good.

So, you say a small "Shit!" Yeah, you're a mom, and moms do curse, especially if your feet hurt because it feels like you stomped on a huge Lego piece.

Unfortunately, like a mom, you bend down to pick up the shit that made your feet hurt because that's what moms do. Only this time, your eyes pop out of your sockets once you remember that soft velvet boxes aren't Lego pieces.

Who is idiotic enough to leave a ring box on the floor????

It takes a peek of annoyance before you realize the following things: You have a boyfriend. He's lying on the bed butt naked. You took out his clothes right before he said you guys needed to talk. You were horny, so you said, "We’ll talk later." Now, there's a velvet ring box on your hand that must have fallen out of his pocket because his pants were just by it.

"Shit, shit, shit!" you chant in your head this time, so he doesn't see you freak out. Panicking, you start to get your clothes back on again, you can't find your panties yet, so you leave it and start to make it to the door, but before running you make sure to drop the ring box.

When you make it to the room door, you say it with a high-pitched nervous tone, "I have to go, something came up," while turning and shutting the door without waiting for an answer.

When you make it to the asphalt with your black car, cracking the windows down is a must, you need to breathe and can't make it long before having to stop and collect yourself. You're 32, for God's sake, a stupid ring box shouldn't scare you like this. But shit, it does.

Seven years ago, fear was the last thing on your head when he asked you to marry him, your brain…or is it your heart, remembers you…

But this time, rings, promises, and the possibilities of broken vows scare you. You can’t, you don’t deserve him. You can’t possibly think about making another vow after breaking one just like this.

Banging your head on the steering wheel once, twice, and still not feeling like yourself, you think about the only thing in this entire world that would make you stop thinking about yourself, and that’s your daughter, the beautiful Jung Nari.

So you decide to pick up your phone to look at the time, and start to feel more like yourself when you see a cute orange lily dangling thing tied to your phone case, it was your daughter's Mother's Day gift that she made in art class.

She knows her name is Nari, after lilies, your favorite flower, so anytime she can gift you something, even if it’s just a drawing, Nari makes sure there’s at least one orange flower in the midst. With the cold winter wind flowing through the window and the 10 p.m mark on your phone, you decide to make a call. Maybe if she’s still awake, you can cuddle.

There’s a ring, two, and a third when you listen to a small “Hello” coming in a woman’s voice you love too much.

“Hi, Mrs. Jung, it’s me.”

“I know, dear; is everything alright?”

You laugh still a bit shakily while saying, “Am I that transparent?”

“You’re an open book to me, dear, come home. Nari is still awake, and my back can’t take too many hours of her cuddling before she starts to kick me.”

That sounded like Nari, she just like you, was a kicker of sheets at night. Her father says that she is just like you, can’t calm down unless you’re spooned, and your feet feel warm. You had cold feet and his were always warm and perfectly at reach so you could tangle yours against them.

Shaking that thought away, you replied a quick “I’m going, see you soon” to your ex-mother-in-law, who most of the time felt more like a mom to you than your own.

That’s why you had to make the decisions you made, so you could keep Nari close to her family, the Jung family was your family as well. There was no denying that as much as you always felt you didn’t fit in South Korea, you at least felt at home with them, Mr. and Mrs. Jung and… with Jaehyun too.

You didn’t hate him, never did, probably never will.

He gave you something so beautiful, meaningful that you could never, ever, hate him for anything. It wasn’t hate, it wasn’t the lack of love that led you two to break up, but just the opposite. Loving him was too great, too big, too much, and it was hurting you so much that keeping your cries hidden was becoming a challenge the more Nari grew.

You couldn’t make this to her, you couldn’t even think about the possibility of her thinking her dad didn’t want her or her mother because you kept suffering. She was just a baby, she wouldn’t and shouldn’t understand. The only thing you wanted her to know was love.

A love so great so beautiful that even when the distance put an ocean between her and her dad, love would still ring louder in her head instead of any fear of not being loved. And that’s why you did what you did.

Jung Nari loved her dad, she felt safe with him, she called him when she needed him, and he would pick up in a heartbeat. You knew you made the right decision, so did he. He wouldn’t fault you for it too.

Making your way to your ex-in-law's house, the gate opened just as you pulled up. After parking your car next to the huge 6-bedroom house in the middle of an expensive, almost exclusive part of Seoul, you felt calm. Looking up while going up the outside stairwell next to Mrs. Jung's garden, you could see the pastel pink light of your daughter’s bedroom still lit.

Great, she was still awake, and you wanted to cuddle her to sleep. She could tangle her little feet with your legs, and you wouldn't mind the tiny cold pressed against yours.

You made your way inside, going straight to her bedroom. When you opened the door, your mother-in-law was just next to her bed on a chair, with a princess book in her hand.

"Oh, thank God you arrived. She wanted another story, but we both know she is almost falling asleep," your mother-in-law said.

"I don't want no sleepy granny," Nari whispered in a voice that sounded more like a sleepy murmur than a complaint.

Getting up with the princess book in hand, Mrs. Jung gave her a goodnight kiss on the forehead and said in a light tone, "Good night, Junnie. Your mom is going to sleep with you, okay?"

Shaking off your winter clothes and shoes, you made your way to your kid’s bed, spooning Nari. The first thing she did was place her cold, tiny cute feet pressed against your thigh.

Right now, you felt more like yourself than the whole day.

With her head pressing against your nose, you breathed in her strawberry shampoo and her own soft scent. With your bigger arms, you crossed her center and started to whisper.

“Time to sleep, beautiful.”

“But I want stories,” she replied with so much sleep in her voice that you had to contain a laugh.

“Tomorrow, mommy is gonna tell you two stories before tucking you into bed, but right now, it’s sleep time.” You pleaded through whispers.

She just hugged your arm and let out a small hum. She went so quiet for a while you thought that she had already slept.

“Do princesses get married two times, mommy?” Nari asked while turning in your arms.

Your heart was beating loud in your ribcage, could she know?

“Why do you ask that, sweetheart?”

“Mommy is a princess in my stories, but mommy is not married anymore.”

“Why is my baby thinking about all that? Mommy can still be a princess without a man, did you know?”

“I know, but someone evil will push you to get married to a prince, don’t do it.”

“Why not?”

“The only prince in my stories is dad, you can’t marry someone better than dad, or prettier.”

Holding back a laugh, you went with it to figure out her cute line of thought.

“Do I need to marry someone?”

“No, but it can't be a prince. No frog too! I hate frogs!”

“But why not a prince, aren't they the best ones?”

“No! Only dad! If you marry another prince, you'll forget about me, mommy!”

Your heart constricted in pain realizing where she was going.

“Mommy is never going to forget about you, sweetheart. How can I? Mommy needs you too.”

“But if mommy has another baby with a prettier prince, I won’t be beautiful anymore.”

“Jung Nari, my sweetheart, you could be covered in mud, but mommy would still think you're the prettiest thing she has ever seen.”

“I hate mud, mommy!”

“I know, beautiful.”

She went silent for a few seconds until she said.

“I’ll still be beautiful even muddy?”

“I swear it.”

She stopped again and went…

“O.K. now silent. I can’t sleep with you talking so much.”

Holding in your laugh, you just left kisses on her head and while letting your fingers drag along the dark honey-brown hair color she got from her father. This time, with a calmer heart, she fell asleep.

After a while with Nari’s feet pressed right against your tights, you realized you’ve had fallen asleep too, with careful movements, you were able to untangle yourself from your kid and tucked her in properly with the covers.

Getting your bag and winter coat, you left the bedroom trying to be as silent as possible. Glancing at the watch on your wrist you realized it was almost midnight.

You made it to the kitchen and while waiting for your glass of water to fill you heard footsteps.

“Is she asleep?” Asked your Mrs. Jung.

“Yeah, she did.”

Sitting down on the kitchen table, she looked at you with concern.

“What happened my child?”

You let out a small laugh, she was always very attentive, it was a trait Jaehyun inherited from her, and hopefully Nari would too, it made people around them feel seen and valued.

“Nothing, Mrs. Jung.”

She looked at you with reprimanding eyes, she always hated being called Mrs. Jung, instead of mom.

You breathed loudly and asked.

“How did you feel when Mr. Jung proposed?”

She looked a little taken aback for a minute but replied with a smile on her lips.

“I felt so happy I almost forgot to say eyes because he was so beautiful and looking at me like I was his entire world, it’s such an intense feeling when you realize you matter that much to a person.”

You were looking at her face, checks pink, eyes that screamed joy as like she was reliving the memory in her mind.

“What did you feel like?” She asked.

“You know how it was. You were there, I was crying so hard.” You laughed at the memory, Jaehyun was so nervous he thought you were crying out of sadness, you still remember his relieved face when you managed to breath a small yes between tears.

“I saw it, but I didn’t feel it…what did you felt at that moment?”

“I felt loved…I knew marring me was a big risk, I knew I came with a lot of expectancies and issues, being with me wasn’t goin to be easy or come at a cheap price, yet when he got on one knee I knew… I knew he loved me and saw me for what I was worth, I was crying but I don’t remember anything in my life at that point making me as happy as I was at that moment.”

When you finished, you had your answer.

“Did someone propose?” She asked.

“No.”

“Is someone going to?”

“Probably.”

“And what are you going to say?”

“I don’t know, all I know, it’s if I hesitate…” You couldn’t finish that sentence, what if you couldn’t say yes? What if never again in your life you could let someone in?

Mrs. Jung probably saw all the pain and confusion in your eyes, so she got up from her chair and came to you, pulling you in a hug, she was taller you, so she just let you slump against her and hug her back with yourself tucked like a child in her chest.

You started to cry, and for a while she didn’t say anything, she just let you be while running her fingers along your locks of hair.

After what if felt like at least 30 painful minutes she withdrew a bit and so did you, she looked in your eyes and said:

“You my child, deserve all the love in the world, the magic that comes with it. Don’t tell yourself otherwise, you’re worth it.”

Mom, yeah, you should really start calling her that again.

Next Chapter

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Taglist: @dulyrana @clblnz 💚

#nct #kpop smut #nct series #nct smut #nct 127 smut #jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun smut #jeong jaehyun #nct x reader #nct scenarios #fic:promissa redux

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jungle-angel · 8 months

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The Little Bookworm (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: You and Bob can't get enough of your kids being obsessed with books

It was the gloomiest of fall days with the skies over Montana having gone darker than expected, almost as if night were setting in at lunchtime.

Auggie had been perched on the little bay window seat in the living room, the rain battering the diamond paned windows while the woodstove in the living room made the house warm and cozy. Bob didn't particularly like having the tv on all day, but The Nightmare Before Christmas seemed like the perfect background noise on a day like this and with Halloween fast approaching, it made it even better.

Bob smiled a little seeing his little mini-me completely engrossed in one of the books you had gotten him. Auggie had always loved pulling books from the shelf, no matter how big or how small they were and loved making up his own stories to tell you, Bob and the rest of the family.

"Auggie, come and eat," Bob called from the kitchen.

Auggie giggled and shut his book, running right for the kitchen and seating himself into his chair. Bob had definitely outdone himself this time, grilled cheese with bacon, a side of kettle cooked potato chips and a kosher dill pickle on the side.

"Whatcha reading buddy?" Bob asked him.

"Um.....I dunno," Auggie chirped with a big grin on his face before taking a bite out of his sandwich.

"You don't know?!" Bob questioned, pretending to be shocked.

"It's about these three guys and a bad guy who doesn't like them so they've gotta stop him," Auggie explained.

The more Auggie chattered, the more Bob couldn't control the broad smile on his face. The Three Musketeers had been one of his favorites growing up, one that his father had grown up reading as well. Now that Auggie was reading it, he was proud beyond words that his love of the book had been passed down to his son.

As soon as lunch was done, Bob took a look at Auggie's bookshelf and made a list of other books that he didn't have, noting that they would most likely be his Christmas gift that year. He made his way upstairs while Auggie scooted back to his little corner, hoping you were still up in your shared bedroom and sure enough, you were.

"Still working away Mrs. Floyd?" he asked, scooting in next to you.

"All I can do Bob," you told him.

You had been needle-felting all day as a movie played out on the tv that was mounted on the wall. Bob felt awful that you were on strict bedrest, but after the last ultrasound appointment, you both knew it was what you and your baby girl needed. Luckily Reagan and her husband, Elijah, lived close by in case anything came up, but it still made Bob nervous whenever you got up in the middle of the night to pee.

Yet he was in awe at the Halloween decorations you had made for Auggie's kindergarten class, little pumpkins that looked like fairy houses, witches in their pointed little hats and little brooms in their hands, fuzzy little bats with googly eyes and silly looking little spiders, black cats with slinky little tails, ghosts with their mouths wide open and even two little figures that turned out to be Jack and Sally and even a little Zero from The Nightmare Before Christmas.

"Did you do all this while I was downstairs?" Bob asked, picking up the soft, fuzzy little figures.

"Yep," you answered proudly. "Kay told me that while the kids were outside playing in the yard, Auggie, Gabe, Nicky and Pete were all collecting sticks and wanted to bring them home. I figured I could use them to make a little Halloween tree."

Bob remembered having been a kid at that type of school and having had Kay's mother for his kindergarten teacher. They were wonderful days, learning how to make fresh bread and soup for lunch, playing with his friends, listening to stories and plenty of playing outside. Yet they had been tough too. Bob remembered some days when his father had gotten a deployment notice. He would hide out in a corner of the classroom and cry until Kay's mother had to gently coax him out. Bob had made damn sure that Auggie, Patrick and any other children you might have, would never have to go through that when they started school. But luckily, Bob and the rest of the Daggers had been fully and honorably discharged by the time Patrick had been born.

"You've gotta teach me how to do this because I'm curious now," Bob chuckled.

"Believe me I will," you told him. "I need a partner so I can keep from getting bored."

Up the stairs came those familiar little feet you heard running through the house day after day on the weekends. "Daddy, Daddy," Auggie chirped again. "Can you read to me?"

"C'mere buddy," Bob said, lifting him up into the bed with his book and putting him between you both.

You rode out the rest of the rainy afternoon, reading The Three Musketeers and the adventures they had lived. Auggie was practically jumping with excitement whenever Bob read the swordfight scenes, the both of you happy and proud that he was your little bookworm.

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #dagger squad

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sweetestofchaos · 4 months

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red & white | m.yg x reader

you and yoongi have something to share this holiday

❅ yoongi x reader

❅ prompt: “Look, it’s a mistletoe. I guess you have to kiss me.” “As if I need another reason, your already as cute as it is.”

❅ wc: 1.2k

❅ warnings: pure fluff - daddy!yoongi - pregnancy announcement

❅ a/n: written for Merry Chaosdays 1K Follower Event, requested by @jjungkookislife. i do love me some yoongi! thank you so much for sending in this request B, i had fun writing this little idea. i read the prompt and it came right to me. i hope you enjoy! no beta touched this, sorry.

❅ line, fairy lights and support dividers made by @benkeibear

❅ send in your own requests here

The drive to the cabin wasn’t long but with you having to make frequent pit stops to use the restroom, it took a little longer than it should have. As Yoongi drives down the winding road that leads to your family's cabin, you can smell food riding on the breeze. Snow covers the ground and Yoongi takes his time as he drives up the hill.

He grips the steering wheel with one hand while his other rests on your upper thigh, your hands intertwined as music plays on the radio. You honestly can’t remember the last time you and Yoongi’s family all got together for the holidays. Most of the time the two of you split your vacation between your families, spending a week with your parents and the other with Yoongi’s.

This joint family holiday is a blessing and Yoongi is just as excited to have everyone together under one roof. Well, technically two roofs since an additional cabin was built to accommodate your ever growing family. As the cabin comes into view, Yoongi gives your hand a squeeze and you smile feeling butterflies in your stomach. It’s still early in the afternoon and you can see a shadow of someone standing by the large bay window as Yoongi parks beside his brother’s truck. Yoongi kills the engine and glances over at you as the front door to the cabin opens.

“You ready?”

“Do you think I can pee first?” You question and Yoongi laughs, his gummy smile making you smile in turn.

Getting out of the car first, Yoongi greets his older brother with a hug before the older brother helps him unload the trunk. You open your car door just as Yoongi rounds the side and offers his hand. Taking hold, you pull yourself out of the seat and Geumjae whistles when he sees you.

“Looking good sis,” Geumjae greets as he gives you a hug, holding one bag in his hand.

You beam at his words, happy that Yoongi has someone here in his family that knows your secret. You are currently 29 weeks (seven months) pregnant and you plan on announcing it to everyone tonight. Yoongi slams the car door shut and takes your hand in his.

“Distract everyone with me okay? She has to use the bathroom.”

Geumjae nods his head in understanding and leads the way into the house with Yoongi taking up the rear to make sure you don’t fall. You just make it past the front door when you hear your mom announce that you have arrived. Yoongi easily intercepts the hug and Geumjae makes a show of dropping a bag, giving you just enough time to slip away and use the bathroom. From inside the bathroom, you can hear the muffled voices of everyone talking and you smile. The pink coat you have on is huge, big enough to hide your stomach and still make you look small enough to not be pregnant. It helps that you like oversized clothing too.

Once done in the bathroom, you peek out and find Yoongi waiting for you against the wall. He looks very handsome in his white sweater, red pants and orange-red hair. The colors suit him nicely. He offers his hand and together the two of you walk into the living room where everyone is at. Yoongi’s mom is the first to spot you and she pushes herself off the couch in the blink of an eye.

“You are glowing, child! Look how pretty you are!” She gushes cupping your face in her warm hands. She smiles happily and hugs you gently before she steps back to let your mom greet you as well. You are passed around from family member to family member until your dad tells you to take your coat off and stay a while. A joke that has been told since you were a child.

You and Yoongi share a look before you turn to face him and he helps you out of your jacket. Your outfit is simple enough, a red sweater dress with white speaks throughout and a pair of white leggings to keep your legs warm. Geumjae takes your coat and holds it while Yoongi places a hand on your lower back and winks before you turn around. A collective gasp rings out in the room as everyone notices the roundness of your stomach. Tears are in everyone’s eyes as they congratulate the both of you. Yoongi’s mom slaps his arm and scolds him for keeping it a secret, turning her wrath on Geumjae as he lets it slip that he already knew.

Lunch is filled with jokes, laughter and life updates as everyone questions you about your pregnancy. Yoongi answers a lot of the questions proudly, his smile wide and large on his face as he holds your hand under the table. You are having a girl, much to everyone’s joy. Yoongi’s father is the one to point it out as he inquires about your color coordinated outfits and pink coat.

You couldn’t picture a more perfect moment even if you try. Yoongi is wonderful, your family is happy and you feel blessed to be surrounded by such love. After eating, Yoongi asks if you would like to take a walk to get some air and you agree. It has been a while since you last visited this place.

Outside, the snow is blinding as you lead Yoongi to the frozen over pond that you used to snake on. The two of you both giggle as you make hearts in the snow with your feet before you take a small water break. Yoongi stands in front of you as you lean against a tree, sipping on a bottle of water. You notice something behind his shoulder and squint your eyes.

“What is it?” Yoongi questions and you smile.

“It’s snowing!”

“Is it?”

Both you and Yoongi look up to the sky at the same time and sure enough it is snowing lightly. A snowflake lands in Yoongi’s hair and as you reach up to dust it off, you notice something about the tree above you.

“Look, it’s mistletoe,” You point out and Yoongi raises an eyebrow. He stares at the tree for a short while before laughing. “I guess you have to kiss me.” You giggle, folding your hands behind your back shyly.

Yoongi rolls his eyes and cups your cheek in his hand, pecking the tip of your nose, “As if I need another reason, you're already as cute as it is.”

Leaning forward, Yoongi tilts his face and your eyes flutter closed as his warm lips press against yours. The sweetest of wine is still on his tongue and you nibble his bottom lip. Your hands find their way to Yoongi’s shoulders and he wraps an arm around your waist. Your stomach presses into his abdomen and the little one in your tummy kicks up a storm as the kiss deepens. You moan into Yoongi’s mouth as he presses you farther into the tree and his hand snakes down to your butt.

“Think we got time for a quickie?” You wonder and Yoongi smiles into the kiss.

“You’re gonna get me killed.”

“I’m already knocked up, Yoongi. Everyone knows how that happens.”

Pulling away from the kiss, Yoongi rests his forehead against yours and nuzzles his nose lightly against yours.

“Your wish is my command Momma.”

#yoongi fic #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #fic: red and white #1k followers event #merry chaosday event

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bratzforchris · 6 months

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Don't Worry Baby

Summary ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆: Movie night gone wrong turns into you helping Michael feel better in just the right way<3

Pairing: Michael x feminine reader

Warnings: Smut, p in v, Michael has a bit of anxiety, mostly just cute/fluffy smut :)

Word Count: 1.5k

Note: I just love red hair Michael sooooo much hehehe :p

☾

"I dunno, Mike," You mumbled, tossing a piece of popcorn into your mouth. "That looks scary...even for me."

It was your and Michael's weekly Friday night movie night and you two were currently eating popcorn and scrolling through Hulu, looking for something to watch. You absolutely loved horror movies, having grown up with horror-crazed brothers. You knew your (and Michael's) limits though, whereas Michael would never admit to being scared of something.

"Please?" he asked, looking up at you with puppy eyes you couldn't resist. "Everyone's talking about how good it is. It can't be that bad." his finger hovered over the button to click on Dear David.

"Okay, but if we get scared we gotta turn it off, bub." You kissed his forehead.

You had once again fallen victim to Michael's angelic green eyes, especially since he was wearing that smokey, black eyeliner you loved. You knew in the back of your mind that this was going to most likely end awfully, but you shoved it down, trying to just enjoy your time with your boyfriend. You could always click the 'off' button on the remote if needed.

Michael cuddled into your side, pulling the throw blanket over both of you and humming happily as the movie started. The fairy lights in your living room cast a warm glow while the overhead light was out, creating the perfect ambience. You slowly settled into the fantasy world, getting sucked into the fast storyline and spooky details.

Michael, on the other hand, was enjoying it less than you were. He was munching on his popcorn with wide eyes, curling further and further into your side. The movie was definitely scarier than he had anticipated, but there was no way he was going to admit his fright to you. Especially not after he begged and pleaded you to watch it, and definitely not when he looked up at you, seeing you watching the movie eagerly, a smile growing on your face.

"Gotta pee," You said, pausing the movie and standing up. "Liking it so far?" You asked him, a smile on your face.

"Mhm!" he lied, cursing himself for being this way.

You kissed his lips quickly, before padding to the bathroom. Michael pulled the blanket up to his nose and took deep breaths, trying not to panic. It didn't work for long though, because the poor boy nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard scratching at the door. Turns out it was just Southy scratching at the door, but Michael couldn't help the shaky gasp that escaped him when he stood up to let the pup out.

"Hey babe." You smiled, coming back into the living room after your bathroom break.

"Shit!" Michael yelped, nearly jumping as he flung around.

Your face dropped into a pout, settling into the couch as you watched Michael let South back in. "Are you okay, babe? We can turn it off if you're getting scared..."

"I'm fine," Your boyfriend insisted, sitting back on the couch with you. "Just didn't hear you come in here."

"Are you sure?" You asked.

You could see Michael shaking slightly, and you knew he got scared more easily than you did, but you didn't want to push him to talk to you.

"I'm okay," Michael mumbled, putting on his bravest smile. "Let's just keep watching the movie."

You brought him into your side in a cuddle, rubbing his side up and down. Michael didn't say much else throughout the rest of the film, just occasionally flinching against your side. Finally, the credits rolled and you stood up and strecthed. Michael was curled almost entirely into the couch, blankets pulled up to his chin.

"Ready for bed, babe?" You asked him, holding out your hand for him to stand up.

"Mhm."

You and Michael began to run through your night routine, and Michael still failed to tell you his fears. He seemed a bit aloof, you thought, but not particularly scared. Once you both had cuddled up in bed, you switched off the lamp, snuggled up against Michael's side. You began to fall asleep fairly quickly, tired from work earlier in the day.

Michael, however, was not going to dream land as easily as you were. He couldn't stop thinking about the movie and the dead child that had haunted the main character. Logically, he knew it wasn't real, but his fears were overcoming his rationale.

"Babe?" he whispered softly into the darkness, wrapping himself in the blankets.

You made a soft humming noise, cuddling into Michael's side and beginning to snore. The red-haired boy sighed, realizing you were basically asleep. He felt awful waking you up, but it was only 11:30 and he knew he wouldn't fall or stay asleep at this rate.

"Babe?" he said again, shaking your shoulder. "Wake up, please?"

Tears pricked Michael's eyes as he softly poked your shoulder. You had been right the whole time and now he was dealing with the consequences. The movie had been too scary for him and he kicked himself for being so sensitive. You blinked your eyes open slowly, observing the room. The lights were still out, but Michael was shaking you and you could tell by his tone that something was wrong.

"Mikey? What's wrong, bub?" You yawned sleepily.

"...I'm scared." he whispered.

"Oh Michael," You pouted sadly, sitting up and turning on the lamp. "I'm sorry, babe." You kissed his cheek.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm the one who said we should watch the movie even after you said we shouldn't." the poor boy's eyes dropped as he picked at the blankets on the bed to avoid eye contact.

You tilted his chin up in your hand, kissing his forehead. "There's nothing wrong with being scared, my love. It's brave to admit you're scared."

"I should've listened to you." he said, gnawing on his lip.

"Mikey," You pouted, kissing his face. "Bubba, I'm not mad. It's okay to be scared, buddy."

He nodded softly, practically crawling into your lap. You began to kiss all over his face and head, making sure he was comfortable. Your boyfriend was silent, that is, until he until you planted a kiss on his neck. Michael moaned softly, the noise dripping from his pink, plump lips. He snuggled further into you, softly grinding his hips against your own.

You began to softly make out with him, running your hands through his red hair. You weren't used to being straddled by Michael, but you loved it. He was grinding into you, soft, sensual moans and whimpers leaving him. The redhead began to softly tug at the waistband of your pajama pants, whining quietly.

"Are you sure you want it, bub?" You asked him. "I don't wanna push you, I know you aren't feeling great."

Michael nodded quickly, looking up at you. "You're the best remedy, Y/N." he chuckled.

You kissed Michael's cheek as he leaned over and pulled a condom from his nightstand. He slid off his own pants and shirt, rolling the rubber onto his dick that was becoming harder by the second. You blushed when Michael pulled off your own pajamas, leaving kisses on your warm skin and telling you how beautiful you were.

“You always make me feel better, baby.” he hummed, sliding into you.

You gasped at the feeling of suddenly being full, but slowly relaxed into Michael’s rhythm, letting out soft moans as he slowly and sensually fucked you.

“Michael…” You whimpered out, already feeling the familiar, tightening ball in your belly.

“Shhh,” Michael kissed you gently. “I’ve got you, baby.”

The feeling of being fucked and edged slowly was almost more exhilarating than your more active, kinky sex life. You could tell that Michael was also close to climax, soft whines and pants leaving his mouth as he railed into you gently.

“Michael, I’m so close.”

Your green-eyed boyfriend chuckled, kissing your lips. “Go ahead, honey. Cum all over my dick. Make me feel good.”

You immediately let go, your walls clenching around Michael’s cock as you whined and moaned. He fucked into you once more before having his own release, yelling out loudly at the wonderful sensations you were giving him. The redhead kissed your face once more before sliding out slowly, pulling the condom off his dick and tying it off, throwing it in the trash beside your bed.

You giggled and blushed when Michael pulled you into a spooning position for post-sex naked cuddles. You both were a bit sweaty, but he pulled the comforter over you like your own personal fort.

“I love you, Y/N.” he smiled.

“I love you too, Mikey,” You giggled sweetly. “Feelin’ better now?” You asked, running a hand through his sweaty, red hair.

“Mhm,” he yawned. “Think I could sleep now.”

You planted a kiss on his lips and then snuggled into his side. “Good night, Michael.” You whispered.

“Good night, Y/N.” Michael kissed your head and spooned you, holding you close like a teddy bear for the rest of the night.

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yandere-writer-momo · 1 year

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This is the new pin to my profile. Thank you all so much for all the love! I love writing for you guys 💕

> HI I AM MOMO BUT YOU CAN CALL ME PEACHES 🍑 BECAUSE I ABSOLUTELY LOVE PEACHES

I felt a need to make this because I don’t like little sneak disses. I am a writer. I write for an audience. A horny one. If people want certain content, request it. If you want male x male or female x female or female x male etc. Request it. I’m not going to knew what people want unless they tell me.

If you want a character to be submissive and breedable because they are in your head. Request that.

I write FAN FICTION. It’s all fiction. None of it is canon. Characters can be as uncharacteristic as I want to write them. I ain’t getting paid for this (*looks at the audience for manga panels*)

So here is the run down!

I am officially writing dark content again!!

What you can request on my 18+ Yandere Baki x Reader page:

NSFW Head canons

Short Stories

SFW Head Canons

LGBTQ+ content

Kinks (within reason)

Prompts I can put up on my page for people to request (like the gemstone one)

Cute things

Mentions of dark themes

Dubcon

Somniaphilia

Stepcest

Fairy tale stories

Fantasy creatures. Or even a transmigration from a fantasy setting. It happened to Retsu

Pregnancy

Babies (I like babies)

Kozue. I love her. Please request her

YANDERE CONTENT FOR THE YANDERE BLOG

What you cannot request

OC children (I have to come up with OCs on my own. You can request kids but don’t give them a personality. I will give them one. Just describe them as unruly or bad. Or angels. I will do the rest)

INCEST

Noncon (indefinitely)

Cheating

BEASTIALITY

Little sister/ brother scenarios with the characters. I never really had a family dynamic growing up so I don’t know how to write that (I love family drama though)

MINORS

Kinks that involve pee or scat or monthly cycle sexy time (I personally am not into it and will not go into detail of it)

Physical Abuse (unless someone is beating up YUJIRO HANMA)

Incredibly detailed requests where you basically tell me the story

Mixing other animes with Baki. I’m just here to write Baki

Murder (unless it’s Yujiro Hanma)

YUJIRO HANMA. I HATE HIM. I HATE HIM I HATE HIMMMMMMM

Also Link to my story that I promised to keep in the pinned post:

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ineedfairypee · 2 months

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Call that a psychic injury

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punk4ndisorderly · 11 months

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light on

The one where Y/N is the daughter of a legendary Team USA coach and used to attend the development program with the boys. 8 years after they last saw each other in person, a reunion brings Jack and Y/N back into each other’s lives... and hearts.

if you keep the light on, i'll keep the light on

XV XVI - this here and now with you XVII

Y/N felt like she could walk on air, an unwavering sense of gleefulness washing over her as she watched two of the people she loved most in the world walk down as a married couple. After all that River and David had gone through, they deserved, more than anyone else, a happy ending.

“I have a feeling your dress was made by tiny forest fairies that decided you were their new muse, henceforth ending up creating the masterpiece you’re wearing right now.” David's sister-in-law conjectured, with a nasally voice, approaching the doctor and intertwining her arm with hers, obliviously walking right past loverboy.

“Yes, the designers and dressmakers at Chloé do have magical hands.” she chuckled, patting the hand that rested on her arm. “Where were you sat? I don’t think I saw you from up there.”

“In the back. Leo always needs to pee at the worst times, so I figured if he needed to go during the ceremony it'd be the best way not to interrupt."

“Aw, honey…” Y/N laughed. "How are you feeling?”

“The fever’s down.” Sean's wife replied. “I’m on ibuprofen and a pretty strong cough syrup, so the reception should be fun!”

The two women followed the crowd to the venue, where they found Y/N's favorite duo, whose ties were already on their heads and dress shirt’s first two buttons had magically been undone, greeting everyone that walked past them with a goofy, but courteous bow.

“Dudette!” Alex called out. “Over here!”

“What did I tell you about drinking before meals?” Y/N scolded playfully after saying goodbye to Leo's mother.

��Relax, Junior, we haven’t been drinking. It’s a wedding though, so my partner and I are ready to wreak havoc together.” the curly-haired man snickered, rubbing his hands together.

“Are you sure about that?” Y/N smirked, motioning her head towards Trevor, who had quickly stepped away from them to join Jack and Quinn.

“Oh for fuck’s sake… It’s like they’re attached to the hip. Jack bats his pretty lashes at him and boom, I’m chopped up liver! Unbelievable!” he huffed.

The doctor wrapped an arm around his shoulders. She took the tie from Alex's head and handed it back to him.

“Come on, let’s find our seats. You can tell me all about it while I’m feasting on hors d’oeuvres. You’re not allowed to use the tie on your head until about fifty percent of the guests are drunk, though.” Y/N stated, spotting Jack in the distance.

By the entrance, a large gold-plated seating chart divided the guests into twelve tables, each one named after an European capital. Alex scanned through the perfectly designed poster, finding himself and his friends placed in number three, Paris.

“Great, the city of love… When my woman is so far away…” he groaned, his shoulder slumping as he headed to their table. “Just my luck.”

Y/N glanced around once more, fascinated by the beautiful vines hanging in the log trellis where they stood, the ethereal aura of the breathtaking venue standing out more than ever now that the afternoon sun shone upon it. She wondered if she could freeze that moment in time and revisit it as many times as she desired. The doctor loved everything about it: the pond, the reception area, the exquisite view and the company. Joey's presence would’ve made it an absolutely perfect day. Her daughter informed her, during the call Y/N had made after going up to her brother's room, that she had gone to the beach that morning, pretending to be Ariel with the aid of Charlie's father.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear Jack's steps as he closed the distance between them, his hands once again buried in his pockets.

“Paris, hu?”

The coach's daughter smiled up at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Hmm, seems like it.” she confirmed, reading the rest of the tables’ names: Madrid, Prague, London, Berlin, Rome, Lisbon, Budapest, Athens, Bern, Stockholm and Vienna.

How convenient, he thought, well aware of the promise he’d made to himself that he’d finally let Y/N know about everything that had been going through his brain for the past month. Even though Jack couldn’t quite explain it himself and it made him feel uneasy, the idea of giving up what could very well be his last change was driving him crazy. Who was he right now? A seventeen-year-old version of himself? He hadn’t been as neurotic about a conversation since his mom and dad had told him it was time to talk about the birds and the bees.

“River wanted each table to have traditional food from the capitals they represent. We’re having… Let me see… Ratatouille. And for dessert… Crème brûlée.”

“Mmm…” he muttered, his trance broken by the beautiful woman’s voice.

“How beautiful was the wedding?” she gushed, the giddiness in her spirit having yet to subside. “How beautiful is this?”

Not nearly beautiful as you.

“It’s pretty great.” Jack agreed, mimicking his temporary roommate, and looking around, pretending not to notice the way her eyes were glistening as she marveled at the sight of the newlyweds, who were making their big entrance.

“Oh, come on. I saw you getting all emotional during the ceremony.” the doctor teased.

“I think that might have been around the time Trevor decided to pinch me. I don’t know what’s up with people doing that today, but - ”

“Why the hell would he pinch you?”

Because I was staring at you like a lost puppy.

“He’s a weird dude.”

That should hold it.

“Mm, yeah, I know…” Y/N agreed, adjusting the tassels of her dress. “But, hey, either we continue discussing how much of an odd duck Z is or we can sit down and eat. I vote for the latter, because I am starving.” she admitted, a growling sound coming from her stomach. “See?”

Jack let out a loud laugh, placing his large hands on her shoulders and leading her to their assigned table, only to be stopped by her father.

“What the hell are you guys doing? It’s photo time!” he announced, grabbing their arms and practically dragging them to the gazebo attached to the log trellis, where they could hear and see the small streams of the pond, the amazing lighting being perfect for the photographs to be taken.

David’s parents were posing for their picture with the beautiful couple, the four of them smiling contently, David's father looking almost like he was about to cry. The pair glanced at each other, admiring how endearing the scene was.

“Okay, now you guys step in.” Coach instructed, on complete fill-in wedding planner mode. “Thank you, Eric and Rachel.”

“Both of us?” the brunette man asked, waving his index finger between him and the doctor.

“Yes, Hughes. Both of you. Go.”

Y/N shrugged, chuckling, taking note of how weddings could turn cool, calm and collected Coach Y/L/N into a stress ball, worriedbabout his son and his husband having the time of their lives. Placing a hand on River's back and another one on his arm, she grinned widely.

Her counterpart stood on the other side, right next to David, trying to dissimulate his amusement at his old Coach's attempt at getting genuine smiles out of them by making faces behind the photographer’s back. He remembered his father doing the exact same thing whenever he took him to get his pictures taken when he was little.

“Okay, now can get one of Y/N and River? Then one of Hughes and Y/N?” Coach requested.

The couple and their guests didn’t dare to deny his request, more like a subtle order, switching positions, with David and Jack stepping aside for Y/N and River to shine. Like two angels that had descended from heaven to grace their presence, the groom and his maid of honor had their own little impromptu shoot, with their father being pulled in halfway through.

“As fun as this is, we need to get everyone’s pics, so… Hughes, get your ass over here so I can release you both from photo duty.”

Jack obeyed his command, taking the groom's spot by Y/N's side. He was slightly taken aback when the woman he’d been admiring all day spontaneously rested her head against his toned chest, an arm snaking around his waist and a hand placed a few inches above his sculpted abs. The Devils' player held her close, rejoicing internally at how, once again, Y/N seemed so comfortable being so close to him.

The photographer gave them a countdown, taking the first picture at one and preparing himself to take a couple of spare ones. As he did, YN's stomach growled, reminding her and her company she was in desperate need of food.

The pair burst into laughter, ending up with a wonderful candid of sheer happiness in result, as everyone around them swooned over the chemistry that oozed out of the two friends.

“That’s it, Lois and Clark. Thank you for your patience and photogenic faces. You’re free to go.”

“Finally!” Y/N extolled, kissing her father's cheek and rushing out of the gazebo, followed closely by Aleksander.

“Tell Quinn and Cole it’s their turn!” Coach called out, ushering a couple of David's relatives in while at it.

Y/N filled a plate with the small entrées five waiters were walking around serving, taking a bite out of one of them.

“So good!” she moaned out of pure pleasure, making Jack chuckle as she took another appetizer from the waitress’ tray and placed it on her plate. “Quinny, Cole, your turn."

"I'm going to look like a kid between his mom and dad in those pictures." Alex groaned.

“Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure Coach will make us go together.” Trevor tried to comfort him.

Y/N and Jaxk sat next to each other as if it was a natural instinct, missing the knowing looks shared between their friends when all the seats at their table were finally taken, as they ate their hors d’oeuvres in a comfortable silence, not needing to exchange words to let the other know they were appreciating their company.

The newlyweds roamed around the venue, chatting away with their relatives and close friends, reminding him of the conversation he and River had had that morning. He was right, there was no way he'd get enough to eat throughout the night. He watched as he kissed his husband’s hand sweetly, waltzing to another table.

“Il n’y a q’un bonheur dans la vie: c’est d’aimer et d´être aimé.” Y/N mumbled, noticing the small smile adorning his handsome face.

His attention was brought back to the gorgeous woman sat next to him, facing her with a quizzical look.

“There is only one happiness in life: to love and to be loved.” she translated. “It’s only fitting we speak French, since we’re having dinner in Paris…”

“Yes, of course…” he nodded. “Unfortunately, the only thing I know how to say in French is bonjour.” Jack joked, undoing his bow tie and the first two buttons of his white shirt.

“Oh Rowdy, I’ve still got so much to teach you.” Y/N sighed, patting his head condescendingly.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh yeah?”

“Don’t doubt it for a second.”

Mr. Sawyer, David’s father, lightly tapped the tip of the microphone set at the small stage where the live band had been playing instrumentals of the couple’s favorite songs.

“How’s it going?”

All the guests cheered in response, some hooting, some whistling loudly.

“After the meal, come the speeches. You know the drill, right? Keep in mind, the maid of honor probably thought long and hard about what she was going to say, while the best man, my son Sean, to be fair, probably wasn’t aware he was supposed to speak. Anyway… Y/N, you’re up.”

“Oh god.” Y/N said under her breath, grasping her champagne glass with her right hand, while Jack squeezed the other one reassuringly.

A roar of applause encouraged her to address the bride and the grow the few words she had prepared the day River had asked her to be his right-hand woman. Clearing up her throat, she quickly shook off her nerves, beaming brightly at the audience.

“In case you can’t tell… I’m pretty much ecstatic to be here today. Yeah, we’ve got lots of insanely good food and drinks for free, an amazing view and warm weather, but the best part about this specific Sunday is that these two have tied the knot. A round of applause for the newlyweds, everybody!” Y/N chanted, clapping. “I was asked to come up here and give a speech about love. I’ll try to keep it realistic. Love is, undoubtedly, a huge leap into the unknown. You can play it cool and say you’re totally in control of your feelings and every situation that stems from being irreversibly in love with someone, but, in the end, you’re still jumping off a cliff with a blindfold covering your eyes, hoping someone’s down there waiting to catch you. Love isn’t always easy. But it’s worth it. Oh, god, it’s so worth it! Like Gloria Steinem once said: taking to the road – by which I mean letting the road take you – changed who I thought I was; the road is messy in the way that real life is messy. It leads us out of denial and into reality, out of theory and into practice, out of statistics and into stories – in short, out of our heads and into our hearts. She’s a certified badass and I completely agree with her: real life and real love are messy. We only know what it’s really like when we live it. Never be afraid to take a risk and experience everything love provides you. I’m more than certain that you too, like many others before, will beat statistics and make your love story as epic as every great tale ever told.” she concluded, raising her glass for a toast. “Cheers to River and David. May they find everlasting happiness!”

The beautiful woman stepped aside after drinking a small amount of the expensive champagne, blowing a kiss to the grooms, both trying to keep it together, waiting for David’s best man, his brother, to give his own speech.

Sean Sawyer grasped the microphone ceremoniously, saluting everyone with and and motioning for people to remain quiet, leaning in his lips touched the windscreen.

“What she said.” he jested, running off the stage to avoid his brother’s annoyed eye roll, as everyone laughed over his antics. That was Sean for you.

Y/M/N climbed on stage next, tucking a loose strand of silky hair behind her ear.

“Y/N and Sean, everybody!” she crowed. “Now, the moment we’ve all been waiting for…”

Back to her seat, Y/N eagerly awaited for her mother to announce the indie singers she had hired to perform the first dance’s song. River had begrudgingly given her permission to surprise him with the person who’d belting out the lyrics to one of his favorite songs of all time while he danced with David for the first time as a married man.

“The first dance! River and David, please step up to the dancefloor. To perform Leather and Lace, Lola Ivy and George Morris!” 

River cheered loudly, covering his mouth with his hands as the very talented musician he had been following on Spotify for months entered the log trellis in a navy-blue suit.

Y/N had managed, through Jack, who actually knew them, to get a hold of the duo and begged them to accept the gig, so it wasn’t a surprise when George greeted her with a small hug, getting to the stage as the wedding band returned, ready to play.

“Actually, Lola is on vocal rest and couldn’t make it today, but I heard through a reliable source that the maid of honor is as good at singing as she is at persuading people to perform at weddings so… Y/N, will you be the Stevie Nicks to my Don Henley?” the bearded man asked.

Before she could refuse his offer, she was being pulled up from her chair and all but dragged towards the stage, smiling awkwardly at the very attractive musician leading her to her mike stand.

The reception venue went completely silent as the first chords to the song were herd. It was now nighttime, the fairy lights intertwined with the hanging vines providing the romantic setting for the specific moment.

Is love so fragile and the heart so hollow? Shatter with words, impossible to follow… You’re saying I’m fragile, I try not to be… I search only for something I can’t see. I have my own life and I am stronger than you know… But I carry this feeling, when you walked into my house, that you won’t be walking out the door… Still I carry this feeling, when you walked into my house, that you won’t be walking out the door.

Jack could only stare in awe, for what could be the millionth and one time since he’d known Y/N, as she stood next to his friend, her sweet voice once again raising goosebumps across his skin. He remembered the very first time he had met her: long hair pulled into a ponytail, a thousand-kilowatt smile. Weirdly enough, he was sure right then and there she was one of a kind. As he got to know her better throughout the years they spent together he learned Y/N Y/L/N could not be merely defined by being one of a kind: she was quirky, immensely talented, loving, devoted, smart and the greatest friend one can ever have.

Lovers forever, face to face. My city or mountains, stay with me stay… I need you to love me, I need you today… Give to me your leather, take from me my lace.

David lead River to the wooden dancefloor, their family and friends finally daring to join them as George started his verse. The couple moved in sync, as if they’d been dancing together their whole lives. It’s weirdly poetic and a little bit twisted how life can throw us the craziest curveballs, only to reward us later on after we made it out of the storm. River had set the precedent and Jack was determined to find his way home after being lost for what felt like a lifetime.

Sometimes I’m a strong man, sometimes cold and scared, and sometimes I cry… But that time that I saw you I knew with you to light my night, somehow I’d get by…

Y/N held both of her hands to her heart, pouring every bit of emotion into the duet. She could see the peaceful smile on her brother's lips as he danced with his head on his husband’s shoulder. Jack's piercing blue eyes locked with hers from table number three. The doctor felt something in the pit of her stomach. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think it was his doing. It couldn’t be, though.

The song soon came to an end, prompting the coach's daughter to do as her mother commanded her through hand gestures and proceed with the highly anticipated wedding tradition.

“Alright, all the unmarried ladies and gents head on to the dancefloor, it’s time to throw the bouquet!” Y/N announced. “You too, Z and Turc.”

“Nice!” her curly-haired friend hooted back, raising his empty glass.

The bouquet toss was quick and easy, the flowers ending up on their seventy-nine-year-old great-aunt’s hands, much to the younger guests’ dismay.

A new ballad begun, a Leon Bridges song, taking most of the couples and small children present to the dimly lit area. Alex snuck out to call his girlfriend, leaving a very bored Trevor eating his crème brûlée while the rest of his friends casually talked about everything and nothing.

“I’m going over to Lisbon to steal a couple of custard tarts, I’ll be right back.” Cole excused himself, not taking his eyes off table number seven, a few feet away.

“Custard tarts?” Jack mouthed, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, don’t ask.” Quinn chuckled.

Seeing the blond man huff and puff over his current state of boredom, Y/N felt the need to put him out of his boredom and have him perk back up. Maybe just have him update her on his life. Placing her hands on the back of Jack's chair, she leaned over towards her friend, smiling sweetly.

“Get up, Zegras. You owe me a slow dance.”

“Since when?” he groaned, barely meeting her eyes. “Since I’m… Your date.”

Trevor instantly perked up, dragging his chair back and taking off his suit jacket. “Are you serious?”

“Don’t make me say it twice.”

Jack laughed, admiring Y/N'a gesture. The Devils' player knew full-well she was intent on making sure everyone had a great time. Getting up, he walked to the sideline of the dancefloor, standing there debating with himself about whether he should ask the beautiful woman to dance or not.

Don't want to get ahead of myself, feeling things I've never felt… It's kind of hard for me to explain…her personality and everything brings me to my knees…

As she swayed graciously to the sound of George's voice, dancing with another man, he wondered if he had missed his opportunity. What if it had come and gone, like the tide that washes over the shore?

I want to take it slow but it's so hard… I love to see her face in daylight, it's more than just our bodies at night…But she's really tempting me… Do you think I'm being foolish if I don't rush in?

Should he take the plunge? Should he risk it all right here, right now? He knew he had to, he was determined to. Jack wasn’t going to back out. He was just… Afraid.

I'm scared to death that she might be it, that the love is real, that the shoe might fit. She might just be my everything and beyond…

The brunette man had met his share of women through his mid-teens and early adulthood, but he was certain that the maid of honor would always be the one he’d wonder about. Did she feel the same? Would he ever get the privilege to love her?

Oblivious to Jack's inner turmoil, the teacher wrapped her rams around Trevor's neck, motioning with her head towards the now empty gazebo.

“Z, what's the veredict on Tiffani with an i?”

“Hmm I thought we were heading into something…” he sighed. “But I don't think she gets me, you know?

“Well, someone will."

"Yeah... But in the meantime..."

"You want to go flirt with David's guests don't you?"

"There's that saying..."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't need to repeat it. Go on."

"Are you sure?"

"Go ahead, you perv. We'll talk about this after the wedding." Y/N urged, releasing him from her grasp and sending him on his way. “Wrap it!” she called out, watching him step out of the dancefloor.

Leo timidly tugged at the hem of her dress as she was left alone. She stooped down so they were at the same height, being careful not to lose her balance. “Hey, buddy! What’s up?” the doctor asked, kindly.

“Do you want to…?” he mumbled, his eyes set on his new shoes.

“I’d love to, honey.” Y/N smiled, getting back ip, holding Leo’s small hands in hers. “Ready? One, two, three…”

The seven-year-old giggled loudly, counting steps along with his dance partner and being spun around a couple of times in a row.

“You’re a natural, Leo Sawyer!” Y/N cheered, picking him up and holding him on her hip, continuing to step on the imaginary square on the floor.

“Mind if I cut in?” Jack's velvety voice inquired, joining them where they stood.

“I don’t know if you can… Leo here is the best dancer at this wedding.” the coach's daughter avowed.

“Oh, come on. You have to at least check if I’m a fair contender to his title….” he pleaded, winking at David's nephew.

“Mmm…” Y/N pretended to be in deep thought, furrowing her brows before turning to the boy. “What do you think, sweetheart?”

“He can try.” he shrugged, waiting for the doctor to set him down before running off to his parents’ side.

Jack scoffed, facing the maid of honor so they could finally have their dance.

At that precise moment, though, Beyond gave place to The Proclaimer’s I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles), making the pair throw their heads back, laughing.

“I guess we’ll have to wait for a slow one, babe.” she stated while taking a break from singing the tune enthusiastically, making different voices as she did.

The Devils' player played along, bringing out his dorkiest side, normally hidden by his quiet and shy nature.

They jumped up and down, shouting da da da at the wrong time, embarrassingly so, looking around to check if anyone had heard them.

Thank god my heels aren’t that high, my feet would be killing me by now, she thought to herself, groaning internally at the prospect of having sore legs the next morning.

If anyone cared to observe them at that moment, they’d think they looked like a couple of young kids, belting out the lyrics to a song, filled with nostalgia for an era that was long gone.

Y/N saw the goofy, laid-back grin on Jack’s face and hers grew twice its size. The untied bow tie she’d messed up earlier, the unbuttoned collar, showing a little bit of his chest, the way he towered over har, made him look even more attractive than he already did. Jack Hughes was a sight to behold.

He noticed how her eyes bore into his own and the music seemed to fade out into the background, the people around them fading into faint blobs of color.

That moment, the dancing, the laughter and the song would stay with him until his heart stopped beating. Taking a deep breath, he stopped jumping, motioning for the brunette to do the same.

“Come on.” he said gently, grabbing her by the hand.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” the brunette man replied mysteriously, looking back at her with a smirk.

“You’re not going to, like, murder me with an axe, right?”

“Of course not. It’s a chainsaw.”

“You’re just full of funny today, aren’t you, Rowdy?” she scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully.

“What can I say, I have a great sense of humor.”

The fairy lights illuminated the way and the reception area could still be seen clearly from where they were when Jack halted his movements, right by four pine trees displayed in a row. He hesitantly let go of her hand, placing his on the bark of one of the tall trees.

“This is The Foursome Of Love.”

“Okay?” she chuckled, a confused look on her gorgeous face.

“I found these when I came out for a walk after lunch while you guys were getting ready. They have hundreds of inscriptions on them. Take a look.”

She came closer to the tree, taking the phone he’d handed her, using its flashlight to be able to read said scribblings. Tons of I love you’s and lovers’ initials were permanently carved into wood, from the bottom of the trunk as far up as her eyes could see. The same applied to the other three beside it.

“I asked one of the waiters about them and he said they represent four of the key pillars of any relationship: patience, respect, honestly, kindness and trust. Apparently, marking these beauties brings good luck to couples.” He explained, crouching down to try to find a sharp rock. “Afterwards, you have to ask for something your heart truly desires, whatever that means.”

“What are you doing?” Y/N asked, clearly amused by his antics.

“Looking for something I can use to carve River and David’s initials here. They deserve a happy life together.

The doctor's heart skipped a beat at his kind intentions, ultimately deciding to join him on his quest for the edged flint.

“Will this do?”

Jack looked up, his lips contorting into a small smile.

“That’s perfect.” he vouched, taking the small pointy object from her hands.

Sure enough, the next song on the repertoire was Perfect. They could easily distinguish George's voice from where they stood, the beautifully written words reverberating between them.

“Woah…” the coach's daughter gasped. “River went all out on the sappy love songs, hu?

Her friend stopped what he was doing, diverting his attention back to her. “Don’t you like these?”

“Yeah, but I think I like upbeat love songs way better than ballads. Let’s pretend we’re dancing in the streets in Barcelona” she hummed softly, raising her arms over her head and doing her best to emulate a Flamenco dancer.

Jack dropped the rock he’d been using to leave a shaky token of the newlyweds’ love on one of Hidden Creek’s most famous trees, pulling her to him. It was bold, yes, but this was the moment he had been waiting the entire night for.

“Coming to collect that slow dance now, I see.” Y/N teased, letting her old friend hold her gently against his body.

“It’s now or never, right?” I will not give you up this time, but darling just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own, and in your eyes you’re holding mine…

The moonlight lit her face up in all the right places, making her big, warm, loving eyes stand out even more now that he observed them up close. How could he have lived so many years without the incredible flutter he felt whenever her gaze caught hold of his? Her delicate touch raised goosebumps on his skin and her melodic laughter made its way into his ears.

Billions of stars looked down on the pair, illuminating the Summer sky as they silently let their undeniably strong chemistry do all the talking.

Baby I’m dancing in the dark, with you between my arms, barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song. When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath, but you heard it, darling you look perfect tonight…

Leaning down impossibly close to Y/N's face, he was surprised to find her staring at him in a complete daze, as if that moment was happening inside a dream. Their foreheads touched, neither one of them moving an inch to gain distance from the other.

“Weren’t you supposed to make a wish?” the teacher half-whispered, not breaking eye-contact with him.

“This. Here and now. With you. It’s all I could ask for.” he confessed, licking his lips slowly as he closed the mere inches separating their mouths from for the first time in ten years.

No Coach. No team. No other people around. This was real. This was Jack and Y/N.

Jack's lips moved slowly against Y/N's, his hands instantly finding their place holding her ace. He knew then he had been allowed to get a glimpse of heaven. How could a mere kiss make him feel like he was on top of the world? The Devils' player had kissed countless women countless times, but those kisses weren’t even half as good as this one. There was no doubt in his mind it was because this time there were strong feelings involved. It was a real kiss. Raw. Passionate. Liberating.

But then, she pulled back. Her eyes were wide open and she seemed jittery, running a couple of fingers through her lips as she tried to regain her breath.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Rowdy.” the doctor stuttered.

“I wanted to…” he admitted, daring to look her in the eye as he did.

The maid of honor stepped back, breaking free of his hold. Burying her hands in her hair, she paced back and forth as she tried to make sense of what had just happened.

“Oh god, please don’t… We can’t… This is wrong… I… Why?”

“Because you’re smart, witty, stubborn, kind, driven, loving, incredibly funny and astoundingly beautiful. When I first saw you today, I couldn’t breathe. Honestly, it happens every single time I see you. You make my heart beat faster each time those brown eyes of yours meet mine and I haven’t found a rational explanation for it yet, other than it means that I have feelings for you. I’ve thought about you every day since the reunion. Lately, every time something good or funny happens you’re the first person I want to tell it to. I know that his is a huge leap into the unknown and it could go terribly wrong, but for once in my life I’m not afraid of the consequences. What I am afraid is that if I let you go again without telling you how I feel, I’ll live the rest of my life wondering what could’ve been. I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. I can’t. I like you, Y/N. And I think I might like you a lot.”

Y/M/N - your mother's name

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes #cole caufield #team usa #hockey boys #hockey #trevor zegras #alex turcotte #luke hughes #quinn hughes #jack hughes fanfiction #fanfiction #blurb

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moonchildreads · 1 year

Text

small town

Chapter 13 - You Give Good Love

IN THIS CHAPTER: Vinegar fumes, an old photograph, and Eddie attempts to hang the moon [9.5k]

WARNINGS: angst, self-esteem issues, mentions of financial hardships, mentions of dead parents, small mention of period-typical homophobia (late 1960s)

A/N: i want to once again shout out my three fairy godmothers, my kindest merryweather (@duquesademiel), my loveliest flora (@justahappycloud) and my sweetest fauna (@gutterratt) for vibechecking dot and eddie's first big misunderstanding. also thank you for teaching me about 80s metal, you were right, dio's the last in line was absolutely perfect for this chapter. i keep thanking you three, and yet it is never enough. can't wait to hug the shit out of you in a month. <3

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I found out what I've been missing Always on the run I've been looking for someone

Thursday, May 8th - 1986

Eddie Munson had the nagging feeling that something was wrong with Dottie Burke. He didn’t know what it was, but he was 100% sure that something was wrong.

For starters, she was being terribly secretive about that textbook she’d borrowed from the library the day before, going so far as waiting until he got up to go pee to return it without him getting so much as a glimpse of the cover. Then it was the fact that her bag looked particularly full and she wouldn’t let him carry it for her, quickly stashing it under her legs as soon as she climbed into his van. She kept her locker closed whenever he was around, and even changed seats to be far away from him during lunch, engaging with Jeff in a conversation about flowers, their heads down and eyes glued to the book they had open between them on the table. But what was perhaps bothering him the most, was the knowledge that the damn mystery card was still hidden within her backpack, tucked between her Home Ec notebook and her Chemistry textbook, taunting him with a peek of its pink envelope when Dottie rummaged through one of her pockets for an extra pen to lend to him during their shared English Lit class.

He couldn’t pinpoint if it was simply him being weird due to the recent discovery of his jealous tendencies or if she really was keeping secrets from him, but something had to give. He was getting increasingly paranoid over every little interaction they had and he wasn’t enjoying his current descent to madness at all. Eddie was planning on asking her if everything was okay between them as soon as they arrived at their destination, but when he pulled into the trailer park, he saw his Uncle gesturing at him to roll his window down, lit cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Don’t get out, boy!” Wayne shouted, jogging to the driver’s side of the van. “Need you to run an errand for me in town.”

“Can it wait?” Eddie asked, turning around in his seat to see Dottie gathering her things. “We were gonna-”

“I need you to take this to Terry,” he slid him a big manila envelope with Terrence McKee’s name scribbled on the front.

“Aren’t you gonna see him tomorrow during your meeting?” he furrowed his eyebrows, wondering what the hell did the old man need him to deliver to his Union buddy so urgently on a Thursday.

“Yes but he needs this today, don’t ask stupid questions, son,” Wayne said with an air of finality. “You know where he lives?”

“Yeah,” Eddie scoffed, disbelief tainting his next words. “It’s literally all the way across Hawkins.”

“You better get going then,” he patted the side of the van like one would pat a horse to get him to move.

“Do you mind if I wait for you here?” Dottie asked, hopping off the van before Eddie could answer. “I really need to pee.”

“Go on, I’ll keep her company until you get back,” Wayne said, dismissing his nephew with another wave of his hand. “Don’t worry about her.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Eddie told Dottie, uncomfortable with leaving her at his trailer while he wasn’t there.

“Take your time!” she smiled at him. “Drive safe, ‘kay?”

He nodded once before peeling back into the main road and speeding away. Standing side by side while they watched the van get smaller, Dottie and Wayne could feel the tension leaving their bodies now that Eddie was gone. The older man let out a low chuckle, like he couldn’t believe they’d gotten away with their improvised ruse.

“What was inside the envelope?” Dottie asked, noticing mischief twinkling in Wayne’s blue eyes.

“Half of today’s newspaper,” he grinned, and she was instantly reminded of Eddie’s face when he pulled off something wacky during Hellfire. “Called Terry earlier today, got him to play along. Hopefully he’ll keep Eddie busy for a while.”

“You’re so evil, Mr. Wayne,” she said, smiling up at him. “Thank you.”

“No problem, kid. Come on in, let’s get started before he comes back.”

Dottie stood with her hands on her hips in the middle of Eddie’s room, watching the pure black stain on the ceiling get more and more faded with each passing minute. The furniture was covered in trash bags to prevent it from accidentally getting damaged with the one-part-water one-part-vinegar mixture that Uncle Johnny had instructed her to concoct; the bucket holding the liquid was safely perched on a step of the small ladder Wayne had pulled out for her from an overflowing storage closet in the hallway. While she had been busy soaking the affected surface with a sponge, the eldest Munson had taken it upon himself to give all the carpets in the trailer a much needed refresh with an old vacuum that hadn’t been used in a while. If the loud sucking noises had been of any indication, there had been way more crumbs and dust accumulated in the living room than he’d hoped to find, and the less was said about Eddie’s bedroom floor, the better.

After half an hour had passed without any sign of her friend’s return, Dottie climbed the stepladder once more to begin cleaning up the mold with her trusty sponge and pink rubber gloves. She was pleased to find that just one swipe was good enough to remove almost all the gunk, but Uncle Johnny had mentioned at least two applications were probably needed to get rid of it completely. She was so absorbed into her work that she failed to notice a very familiar van parking outside next to Wayne’s truck; upon entering the quiet trailer, Eddie was confused as to why all the windows were wide open. Noticing that Wayne had fallen asleep on his armchair with their old vacuum at his feet, he tiptoed down the hallway towards his bedroom and pushed the door open, only to find his newest friend standing at the top of the little ladder his Uncle had gotten for him when he first came to live at the trailer park so he could reach the kitchen cabinets on his own.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he said, standing under the frame in shock.

“I’m cleaning!” she smiled at him like it was no big deal.

It was a big deal. It was a huge deal, actually, because Dottie cleaning up his own home embarrassed him to the bone. Suddenly, Eddie was back in middle school and the people he desperately wanted to be friends with were calling him dirty and trash and smelly, and the walls were closing in on him, and there was an acid smell in the air that reminded him too much of when Wayne tried to get rid of his lice by soaking his scalp with vinegar, which in turn reminded him too much of the acrid odor that was embedded into every corner of the house he had once shared with his Dad. Dottie’s usually gentle smile was now taunting him, and when he noticed that she was keeping her hair away from her face with one of his bandanas, deep seated shame bubbled up to the surface, bursting to get out of his system with no regards as to who it would run over in its path.

“Get out,” he gritted out, voice dripping with venom.

“W-what?”

“Get the fuck out!”

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Is this fun to you?!” he yelled, eyes hard on her figure still standing at the top of the ladder. “You think you can just come into my home and touch all my shit and I’m supposed to be okay with it?!”

“Eddie-”

“What are you doing?!”

“I’m helping-”

“I didn’t ask you for help!” he heard heavy footsteps coming up from behind him but he couldn’t stop the poison coming out of his throat. “What, was it interesting to see what it’s like to be a broke piece of shit? Did you get tired of hanging out in a shitty trailer? Or did you just want to add me to your list of good deeds? Poor Eddie, I saved him!”

“Edward!” Wayne’s voice cut his tirade short. The older man looked tired with the kind of fatigue only years of hardship could give you. “She just wanted to help you out! I gave her permission to do it, so stop yellin’ at her!”

“You… you knew about this?” he looked at his Uncle, betrayal twisting his stomach. “What the fuck, Wayne!”

“Ed-”

“No! Shut up! Shut the fuck up! Stay out of this!” Eddie kicked his door shut and threw all his weight on it, leaving Wayne knocking on the wood outside before turning to Dottie again. “You turned my fucking Uncle on me?”

“I didn’t- I just asked him if I could clean up the mold stain-”

“Do you think I need you to clean up after me like you’re my goddamn mother? Because I don’t! I don’t need you! I was doing fine before I met you!”

“I just wanted to help-”

“I’m not a child, Dot, you don’t have to treat me like… Like I’m some charity case you have to have pity for!”

A wet sponge flew across the room and hit Eddie square in the chest, right in the middle of his favorite Iron Maiden shirt he’d gotten out of a thrift store bin a few years back. The yellow projectile flopped to the floor where it hit the carpet with a squelch; Eddie looked up to Dottie to find her face had turned red, her jaw clenched in barely contained rage. She threw a fucking sponge at me, he realized, wary of what else could she’d throw his way. Her bucket was perfectly within her reach.

“Are you done?” she raised her voice, louder than he’d ever heard her.

“I-”

“I asked, are you done yelling at me?!” her hands turned into rubbery fists, eyes narrowing to look down at him from her vantage point. He didn’t dare reply. “I asked your Uncle for permission to clean the mold stain because that’s what’s causing your allergies. You’re getting sick from it and it could be dangerous!”

“How do you-”

“Do you really think it’s the first time I’ve seen mold in my entire life? Give me a break, Eddie, how sheltered do you think I am?”

“If you had such noble intentions, why didn’t you ask me about it instead of going behind my back and asking Wayne, huh?”

“Because you don’t let people help you! No, no, no,” she lifted her gloved hand to cut him off as soon as he opened his mouth. “You don’t get to argue back. Gareth has to hide gas money in your glovebox so you don’t try to give it back to him! Donny acts like he wants your peanuts so you eat the extra lunch he brings for you without complaining!”

“I don’t want your pity!”

“It’s not fucking pity! We want to help you out because we love you!” Dottie threw her hands in the air with exasperation. She exhaled loudly, shoulders sagging, defeated. “Don’t you fucking accuse me of seeing you as a goddamn charity case ever again, Eddie. If you can’t see by now that I think the absolute world of you, then I don’t know why we’re even friends anymore.”

There was a heavy silence in the room, and Eddie could feel his anger and humiliation turn to guilt. He stared at her with wet eyes, regretting every single word that had come out of his mouth since he’d returned from his strange errand. Dottie was breathing heavily, lips turned downwards, biting the inside of her cheek; he had seen that face before and instantly knew that she was trying her hardest not to cry. He felt like such an idiot. Of course that what he was feeling was completely justified but he had just accused her of essentially tricking him into a friendship only to mock him, like she hadn’t consistently shown him how kind and selfless she truly was.

Putting his pride aside, he launched himself across the room and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his head into her chest and squeezing her tightly so she wouldn’t fall from the ladder she was still standing on.

“I’m sorry,” he said, clutching the back of the paint splattered shirt that had clearly once belonged to her Dad. She must have brought it from home to protect her clothes while she cleaned. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said, pulling her gloves from her hands, letting them fall to the floor before dropping her arms around his shoulders. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. You’re right, I should have asked you before I did it. That wasn’t cool of me.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he agreed. “But I still shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” she said, holding him tighter. “I would never pity you, Eddie, you have to know this. I admire you so much, I could never think any less of you. You’re one of my best friends in the whole world.”

“You’re one of my best friends too,” he admitted, looking up at her, his chin resting on her stomach. “I just… People are always judging, you know? And I don’t want you to see me differently because I’m… struggling.”

“I’m not trying to fix your life, or do charity with you. I just want to help you out the same way you help me out, and that’s what friends do for each other, okay? If you won the lottery tomorrow and moved to a big ass mansion in Loch Nora, I’d still help you out.”

“Because you love me?” he risked a little joke, testing the rocky waters between them.

“Yes, dumbass. Because I love you,” she said, fingers tangling in his wild curls, and despite the fact that he was sure his heart had never raced faster in his life, the waves lapping at his feet had never felt calmer.

If Eddie was taking more alternative roads and going slower than usual while taking Dottie home, neither of them said anything about it. They had spent the rest of their day together cleaning Eddie’s room as a team, her on ceiling mold duty and him wiping down every dusty surface and shoving things into his drawers and closet to deal with them at a later date. When they were done, they threw themselves onto his bed so she could quiz him on Sociology, trying to get him ready for his last test of the year before finals week. Wayne did not attempt to talk to either of them for the remainder of the afternoon, but he had hugged Dottie goodbye with a smile on his face and subsequently given his nephew a stern look that warned him about the scolding he was gonna get when he came back from dropping her off. Eddie had no doubts that his Uncle had overheard the rest of their conversation through the door and heavily favored her side of the argument.

“Are we still on for tomorrow?” he asked with a timid voice as he pulled into her street.

“You know I’m never gonna say no to tacos,” she said, turning in her seat to look at his profile. “Kinda been looking forward to it all week, actually.”

“Was really hoping you’d say that,” he admitted. “I’ve been looking forward to it too.”

“Taco Friday is still on then. They better be good or I’ll be so disappointed.”

“You won’t be, trust me. Best tacos you’ve ever had.”

“I’m counting on it. See you tomorrow, okay? Please go over your notes one more time before the test.”

“Will do, Captain,” he saluted, watching her jump off his van and walk backwards towards her front door.

“I mean it, Munson! I want to see you get at least a B or your ass is grass!”

“I’ll get you more than a B, princess, I promise!” he said, grinning when she rolled her eyes at him before scurrying inside.

He was in a fairly good mood again when he walked into the trailer, but instantly stiffened up when he saw his Uncle standing at the sink. He waited by the front door in silence for a few seconds before trying to disappear into his bedroom when Wayne put down the dish he was washing and turned around. His face gave away nothing as he motioned to the couch with his head. Oh, boy. Eddie sat down quietly and stared at the carpet. The eldest Munson crossed his arms and stood next to the coffee table, knee bumping Eddie’s to make him look up. He didn’t. The faint sounds of the trailer park settling down for the night were ringing in his ears.

“You two make up?” Wayne asked, getting straight to the point.

“Yeah. Sorry about the yelling.”

“S’alright. You know what she said to me? When she asked about the stain?” Eddie didn’t reply, so Wayne kept going. “That she’d rather have you angry at her than see you cough up blood.”

“I didn’t know it was toxic. I thought she was just… being judgy.”

“Now why do you think she was being judgy?” Eddie only shrugged and Wayne sighed, changing tactics. “You do things for her sometimes, don’t you, Ed?”

“I guess,” he could feel his ears start to get red.

“You drive her around, get her snacks. Made her that shirt for her birthday too, ain’t that right?”

“We’re friends,” he argued back, although he didn’t really know what he was getting agitated about.

“Do you judge her because she can’t drive herself?”

“What- no, of course not, I’m not an asshole!”

“Do you judge her when you buy things for her?”

“No!”

“Then what on Earth made you think she was gonna judge you, huh? That any of your friends judge you?”

“People like that always judge,” he grumbled.

“People like that?” Wayne repeated in disbelief. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means,” Eddie finally looked at his uncle, exasperated. The older man lifted an eyebrow. “People that don’t live in a trailer park,” was what Eddie said. People that don’t have to decide what bill would hurt them less if it didn’t get paid on time. People that go thrift shopping for fun and not out of necessity. People that graduate on time, and go to college, and live in a suburb, was what Eddie implied.

“Y’know, for someone as perceptive as you, you can be really dumb sometimes,” he chuckled bitterly. “Open your damn eyes, boy. I know you ain’t blind. You’re not the only one who’s had a hard life ‘round here, so quit the self-pitying.”

Wayne could picture the cogs behind Eddie’s confused expression start to turn as he pondered on his words. A few seconds of silence passed between them before the eldest Munson fished his cigarettes from his shirt pocket and headed outside for a quick smoke. He turned around when he reached the door; Eddie was staring at him but his eyes were unfocused, mind miles away.

“Ed?” Wayne called, and his nephew’s head jerked violently, snapping out of his trance. “You be good to that girl, son. You don’t find people like that every day.”

Never in his almost twenty years of life had Eddie felt as productive as that day waiting for Wayne to leave for work. He’d vacuumed his bedroom carpet, put a new load of clothes in the washing machine, had dinner, washed the dishes, dried the dishes, and reorganized his tapes, all in an effort to keep moving, not stopping to think once. He was sitting at the kitchen table drowning himself in the dull black and soft gray of Jeff’s photocopied Sociology notes when his uncle finally laced up his boots, turned off the TV and headed out for the night, leaving him alone with the thoughts that could no longer be ignored.

He remembered the random five dollar bills he often found in his van: in the glovebox, between his tapes, tucked into the sun visor, laying on the dashboard. He’d always assumed he’d left them there while he was high or drunk after a gig; Gareth had never mentioned them and Eddie wasn’t a stranger to misplacing his own things so he’d never had any reasons to question his friend about it. He thought about befriending a freshman Donny when he was a junior, only a couple of months before he started selling weed and still couldn’t afford cafeteria lunches, bringing whatever little leftovers he could find in the fridge to keep his hunger at bay during the school day. He’d never given much thought to the fact that Donny kept asking him to trade a few peanuts or half his apple for a whole sandwich, not when his friend kept pulling excuse after excuse (“I hate this kind of cheese, please take it or I’m gonna throw it away”, “My sister made waffles for breakfast, I’m not that hungry”, “Dude, you know I love chocolate covered pretzels, come on, trade with me?”) and he was always happy to say yes. Donny hadn’t stopped doing it, only slowed down on the frequency once Eddie started selling and now had extra pocket money to spend on whatever he wanted.

Throat constricting, he looked down at the notes in front of him and saw Jeff’s handwriting spelling names and concepts he should be memorizing. Eddie hadn’t made the copies, Jeff had. He had gone to the library during one of his free periods and spent his time photocopying his own notes so he could give them to his long haired friend before their exam. Eddie wondered how many more things they had done for him throughout the years without getting so much as a thank you from him, and never once expecting anything in return. Never looked at him differently, never made fun of him, never questioned him. I’m a fucking idiot, he thought bitterly, before Wayne’s words rang in his ears. “You’re not the only one who’s had a hard life”, he had said.

Eddie twirled his pen in his hand, noticing it wasn’t his. It was Dottie’s fluffy pen, blue ink with a pink pompom that he loved tickling his own chin with. She was very protective of her things, never hesitating to lend them out to her friends but always having a sort of nervous anxiety until they were back in her hands. Dottie, who always waited to see what everyone else was picking at the diner before placing her own order. Dottie, who loved apple Kool-Aid and didn’t like sodas unless it was a special occasion, who knew how to bake and cook with whatever was in the fridge, who never threw away pencils until they were so small she couldn’t grab them anymore.

“Ah, fuck,” he said out loud, the weight of the words he’d carelessly thrown around at her rooting him to his chair.

Dottie who cut the toothpaste tube in half to get everything out. Dottie who always said “it’s thrifted!” or “I made it!” whenever someone complimented her on a piece of clothing that she was clearly proud of. Dottie who hated doing math but could calculate the price of things that were on sale quicker than she could read her own dice during a D&D session. Dottie, Dottie, Dottie. Eddie let his head hit the table, forehead sticking to a piece of paper. How had he missed all the signs? He’d accused her of looking down on him and all this time he’d never once stopped to think that maybe, just maybe, she knew exactly what he was going through. He’d been so concerned trying to hide all the things he feared she could judge him upon, and instead had been judging her all along.

He had to fix this. He had to show her that he was sorry for what he’d said, that he wouldn’t judge her anymore. That all this time he’d been wrong, and she’d been right, and that he was a Grade A Idiot who had gotten lost in his own head a little bit too much. Staring at an old camping lamp he’d found under his bed while he was cleaning, Eddie decided that to make things better he would simply have to hang the moon for Dottie.

Friday, May 9th - 1986

“Hey, Chris?” Eddie said, staring at the trees above him. “Could you do me a favor?”

“Is it illegal?” Chrissy replied, following the dancing leaves with her eyes.

“Absolutely.”

It was a sunny Friday, the kind of day that just made you itch to be outside, which was exactly what Eddie and Chrissy were doing after school while they waited for their extracurriculars to start. They were hanging out in their secret spot in the woods, lying on the seats of what they had claimed as their picnic table, looking up at the mostly clear sky while passing a joint back and forth under the wooden surface that separated them. Chrissy had been complaining about how someone on the Prom Planning Committee hadn’t booked the DJ they’d wanted on time and now the guy wasn’t available anymore; she had been scrambling all week trying to find a decent replacement or else everyone in their senior class was going to have to get down to someone’s cousin’s shitty mixtapes. As their shared blunt got smaller and smaller, she was thankful that she not only had a new vice to indulge in when things got overwhelming, but also had Eddie, who always listened and reacted accordingly to her frustrated rants.

“What do you need?”

“Can you sell me a couple of prom tickets? I really don’t wanna ask Kemper about them, she’s such a bitch,” he groaned.

“What did Luce do to you?” she turned to look at him, confused.

Lucy Kemper was a meek looking redhead that knew she was going to be an accountant since she was 12, and because of that, she’d appointed herself as the Committee’s treasurer as soon as she reached senior year. She said she didn’t trust anyone else handling money, so she’d taken it upon herself to be the only one selling tickets for both the junior and senior proms. Other senior students had, in turn, started calling her The Ticket Peddler - it remained to be seen whether it was an affectionate nickname or not.

“Well, for starters, Luce is the one that started that rumor about me stealing underwear from the girls’ locker room.”

“What? They literally caught Tommy Hagan breaking into a locker, Billy Hargrove dared him to do it as their last senior year prank, it was so gross. Why did she say it was you? Everyone knew it was him, it was all everyone talked about for two weeks.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Eddie said sarcastically, the smoke he had been holding in his mouth getting lost into the breeze. “That’s why she had to drop it, but that didn’t stop Higgins from interrogating me twice about it before your coach caught Hagan red handed.”

“I hated that guy, he was such a little creep. And I didn’t like how he treated Carol at all.”

“Carol Perkins was a bigger asshole than her dumbass boyfriend ever was,” he declared, offering the burning joint to Chrissy with a lifted eyebrow.

“Not to me! She was always really nice. She let me borrow a tampon once,” Chrissy said, taking a drag.

“Ew.”

“Periods are completely normal, Eddie.”

“I had to take Health class twice, I’m not scared of periods. I said “ew” because you borrowed a tampon from the Witch Queen herself. You know, I’m surprised she didn’t ask you to give it back, guess she wasn’t in the mood for a blood ritual that day.”

“You’re such an idiot,” Chrissy giggled, making him crack up too. “I’m sorry about Lucy, though. She shouldn’t have done that.”

The more time Chrissy spent with Eddie, the more she wondered how many people around her had been horrible to others right under her nose without her noticing it. She knew that Jason could be mean to the metalhead sometimes, but she figured it was just a guy thing; Eddie stood on tables and badmouthed Jason, and Jason did it right back to him, and so on and so forth. Her boyfriend wasn’t a bully, was he? They both gave as good as they got, neither shied away from conflict when it concerned each other, right? It bothered her to know that maybe she’d misunderstood the situation all along. How many times had she walked past someone being mistreated and not looked their way twice?

“Ah, don’t worry about it. Water under the bridge and all that,” Eddie waved his hand like it wasn’t a big deal. It was to Chrissy. “So, can you sell me two tickets today and hold three until next week? I’ll round up the money and pay you for those on Monday.”

“Sure! Why two today though?” she asked curiously, putting out the roach on the underside of the table and letting it fall to the grass before it began burning her fingers.

“I have another study date tonight.”

“Oh my god, are you promposing?” she suddenly sat upright, eyes twinkling with excitement. “I thought you said you were all going together as a group! What are you gonna wear? Are you taking Dottie to dinner before too? You have to get her a corsage, I can help you pick a nice one if-”

“Jesus Christ, slow down,” he said, clumsily lifting himself up from the bench until he was also sitting down across from her. “I’m not promposing, we’re still going with the guys as a group. I just… kinda fucked up yesterday and wanted to do something nice for her. Make things right, y’know?”

“Define “fucked up” for me, please.”

“I, uh, I got angry and said some things I didn’t mean. There’s nothing to worry about though, we talked it out and we’re fine. We’re going out for tacos tonight.”

“Another date that isn’t a date, huh? I’ll have the tickets ready for you after Hellfire on one condition,” she teased him. “I want first row seats at the wedding.”

“Sweetheart, if we get married, I promise you I’m picking you as my Maid of Honor slash Best Woman slash whatever that shit's called.”

“Deal,” Chrissy stuck out her hand for him to shake on it and he grinned brightly.

It occurred to her right at that second with his hand on hers, that once they left high school, this regular hangout she enjoyed so much was no longer going to happen. Their picnic table wasn’t gonna be theirs anymore, left abandoned for other misbehaving kids to take ownership upon once the new school year started. No more smoking together, no more listening to each other's cassettes, no more lying on the benches and pointing out funny cloud shapes until their faces were red with mirth. And now Eddie was talking about his future like she had a place in it, and Chrissy wondered if her future had enough space for Eddie too.

"Eddie? What's gonna happen after graduation?" she asked, tracing a happy face with crosses for eyes that was carved into the wood with her index finger.

"Dunno, I'll probably try to get a job during summer. Weren't you going to Asscrack, Ohio early for the preseason?"

"Yeah, but that’s not until August. And stop calling it Asscrack, Ohio! OSU is literally in Columbus!”

“You could have gone anywhere and still chose Ohio. What kind of demented person chooses to live in Ohio?”

“They’ve won the UCA Nationals three years in a row, I want to win too,” she shrugged. “But that's not what I asked, I meant it more like- I don't know, like, what's after graduation for us, y'know?"

"Oh," he looked at her carefully, trying to gauge her thoughts by her anxious expression. "Well, what do you want to happen?"

"I don't want us to stop being friends," she said, getting straight to the point. "I like hanging out with you, I like that I can be myself when you're around."

"I like hanging out with you too, really, I do, but I think your Mom might ground you until you're 30 if she ever sees us together," Eddie warned her.

"She doesn't have to know. We can… we can hang out in secret until I leave for college. And you can come visit sometime! You and Dottie and the guys. I’d love to see everyone again."

"You wanna be friends with the freaks?" he asked, disbelieving.

"You were the one who said I was a freak too!"

Eddie really wanted to believe her, he really did. He wanted to call Chrissy to tell her the news whenever something good happened to him, wanted her to come to The Hideout and watch Corroded Coffin perform before college inevitably made it impossible, wanted to pay her back for her support and advice by being there for her during hard times. He wanted her and Dot to become friends like he knew they could be, for them to have girl nights where he'd pick them up from a bar all rosy cheeked and giggly, singing Pat Benatar until they fell asleep in his backseat.

He wanted all of that, because he actually really fucking loved being friends with Chrissy Cunningham, Queen of Hawkins High and Head Cheerleader, but also because it would mean that they had never been so different after all. That high school cliques and hierarchy didn't mean shit once you were out of that dreadful place. That people could change, and come to understand each other and that maybe Hawkins wasn't the shithole town he desperately wanted to leave behind.

Eddie really wanted to believe Chrissy, but he didn't. Not entirely. Not yet. However, given recent events, he decided there was no harm in giving her the benefit of the doubt if she was so willing to extend it to him too.

“How about we start with you signing my yearbook and see where that leads us?” he offered.

“Only if you sign mine too.”

“Fair enough,” he smiled at her, and Chrissy had the feeling he wasn’t lying at all about her being his Maid of Honor-Best Woman-Whatever It Was Called whenever he got married.

And luckily for him, she was serious about accepting the offer too.

“Did you pick one?”

Eddie climbed back into his van with a bag full of Mexican food to find Dottie going through all his tapes, the cases balanced precariously on her thighs. The parking lot was quiet, but soon it would start filling up with misbehaving teens looking for a bit of fun on a Friday night. Hot Sam was another survivor from the Starcourt Mall fire; they had relocated to Mulberry St. in Downtown Hawkins after collecting a big fat cheque from their insurance company and had managed to infuse a little bit of nightlife into an otherwise deserted area. The owners were just grateful that the still-in-construction Taco Bell at the mall, in order to not associate themselves with a tragedy, decided to leave the town altogether instead of moving somewhere else, leaving the Hawkins Taco Kingdom to be disputed between themselves and the owners of Olé Amigo!, who quite frankly didn’t know what a poblano was even if it hit them right in the face. Dottie huffed loudly as Eddie turned on the van and began backtracking out of the parking lot, right hand behind her headrest.

“Why are all your tapes in the wrong cases?” she complained, snapping Mercyful Fate’s Melissa shut.

“Gareth thinks switching them out is the peak of comedy.”

“He’s such a gremlin,” she said, putting another tape in its rightful case.

“Which one are you looking for?” he asked, glancing at her hand shaking Dio’s The Last in Line’s empty case. Wordlessly, he ejected the cassette that was in his van’s deck and lifted an eyebrow. “It’s ready to go.”

“How did you-,” she interrupted herself and chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief while pushing it back in and pressing play.

He shrugged, heat blooming in his chest as the first notes of We Rock rattled his windows. It had been a coincidence, he’d been listening to it as he drove to school that morning, but there was a part of him that always got giddy whenever she willingly chose to partake in his interests. He knew she always carried around a couple of her fave tapes, and there were enough mixes with non-metal songs in his glove box, so the fact that she’d picked one of his favorite albums was nothing to scoff at. She didn’t always like everything he showed her, but she still tried to understand it because it was important to him, and that meant more to him than she’d ever know.

When they missed the turn that took them to the entrance of the trailer park, Dottie eyed him suspiciously, his face carefully schooled to look very nonchalant. His fingers were tapping the final beats to Breathless on the steering wheel when he pulled into a road flanked by trees on both sides.

“Eddie? Where are we going?” she asked, looking out of her window.

“It’s a surprise.”

“You know I don’t like surprises,” she said, hands starting to sweat and the skin on her neck prickling.

“I promise you it’s nothing weird,” Eddie said, lowering the radio to a low rumble and letting his right hand fall to her left knee. He squeezed it comfortingly, but it only made her more nervous. “There’s a place I like to go for a smoke at by the lake, I just thought you’d like to see it. We can go back home if you don’t like it but it’s not scary, I swear.”

“We’re going to Lover’s Lake?”

“No funny business,” he insisted. “It’s just a really pretty place to hang out. And we can leave as soon as you want.”

“Okay. Sounds nice,” Dottie said, heart racing as she placed her palm on top of his hand and squeezed back.

Eddie didn’t remove his hand from her knee until he had to change gears to get onto a dirt road, thumb rubbing in circles over the bone underneath her jeans. She wasn’t sure what was worse, the possibility of something happening between them or nothing happening at all. The anticipation was eating up her insides as he parked the van in reverse under a thick tree like he had done it a million times and killed the engine, cutting One Night in the City off. A gentle breeze ruffled the grass and leaves around them, dull silence threatening to swallow them whole.

“Stay here for a second, okay?” Eddie said, patting her knee a final time. “Don’t turn around, I’ll come get you when I’m ready.”

“Okay,” she answered, but her voice was swallowed by the loud slam of the driver’s door being closed.

She heard him walk all the way around the van, open the back doors and get inside. He shuffled around for a few seconds before he hopped off and hurried to her side, opening her door and unclicking her seatbelt.

“Close your eyes for me, yeah? I’ll guide you,” he said, nervous energy bouncing off his tongue.

“Eddie, you’re scaring me,” she admitted, voice weak, feeling his hand remove her backpack from her shoulder and the bag of food from her tight grasp.

“Trust me, you’re gonna love this,” he took both of her hands in his and started walking her to the rear of the van and closer to the shore. “Just follow me, follow my voice.”

“Please don’t push me into the water,” she said, memories swirling in her mind. Jeannie locking her into a dark closet at a birthday party while they played Hide and Seek. Howie “accidentally” shoving her into a muddy puddle during a rainy field trip. Eddie’s fingers gripped hers tightly.

“I would never, darling. Just a few more steps, I’ve got you.”

When they reached their destination only a couple of feet away from the van, Eddie let his hands roam from hers up her arms all the way to her shoulders where he gently applied pressure to let her know he was still there. He stood directly behind her, leaning forward a little bit to match her height.

“You can look now,” he muttered over her right shoulder, equal parts nervous and excited.

Eddie’s secret Lover’s Lake spot was a little natural clearing right across the lake houses that belonged to the privileged few in Hawkins. Most of them didn’t live there; their everyday addresses were located mostly in Loch Nora, but they used these particular houses as a weekend getaway sort of space, a secluded oasis in a shitty little town the rest of the country had forgotten about. Eddie found a certain charm in sitting in the back of his van staring at the twinkling lights of those giant residences, watching them throw their entitled rich people parties from a safe distance where they couldn’t see him intruding on their privacy. He’d get high and observe them come and go, the voices belonging to drunkards only rarely carrying across the water, wondering what would he do if he ever had a house like that.

The water licked the dirt edge with barely audible waves, crickets chirping in the distance, birds settling into their nests for the night. Dottie watched and watched, the moon reflecting on the unperturbed surface of the lake, the boy behind her sitting with his legs dangling from the back of his van, one of his cigarettes perfuming the air between them. It was peaceful; she could understand why he’d come here to clear his head, be alone with his thoughts.

“This is beautiful,” she whispered, not wanting to break the bubble that had formed around them.

“Told you to trust me,” he said, the side of his mouth lifting in a smile as she turned around to look at him.

If the lake at night had seemed beautiful, what was in front of her was downright mesmerizing. Eddie sat a little to the side, feet swinging back and forth in the air, his weight resting on his right arm while he held his half smoked cig with his left hand. Behind him, he had set up an upturned plastic crate covered in blue gingham cloth as a table, various cushions and blankets were strewn around on the hard wooden floor, and a small camping lamp rested on top of an amp that belonged to Jeff. The soft yellow light illuminated him from the back, his wild hair looked like a halo, his figure surrounded by his broken, frizzy curls. He had set her backpack to a side with his and the bag of food waited for them unopened on top of the crate.

“This is for you,” Eddie reached into his jacket and pulled out a thin envelope.

Dottie stared at it for a second before opening it, then at Eddie, and then back at the papers in her hand. Two prom tickets. One for her, one for him, she assumed. Is this a joke? It would be cruel if it was, and she knew him to not be cruel. Maybe to others, to bullies, but not to her. Trust me, he had said. The photo hidden inside her bag was screaming, begging to be released. She swallowed the knot in her throat and looked at him with wet eyes.

“W-what is this?”

“I was an asshole to you yesterday. A complete and total asshole and you had every right to throw your dirty sponge at me, and I’m sorry.”

“You were upset.”

“Yeah, I was, but… I guess I’m just so used to people judging me that I thought if I did it first, it would hurt less. And it totally doesn’t work like that,” he chuckled, flicking ash onto the grass. “I want to make it up to you. You’ve been so nice to me all this time and I’ve just been a fucking idiot.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“I have, but it’s okay. I’m not planning on being one anymore. Not with you at least,” he threw his cig to the side and extended his hand to her. Dottie accepted it instantly and let him pull her closer. “I know we said we were all gonna go together to prom, and that’s still the plan, nothing has to change. But I didn’t want you to have to buy your own ticket.”

“I’ll pay you back.”

“No,” Eddie held her hands in his. “It’s a thank you. For cleaning my room, for taking care of me when I get sick, shit, for helping me graduate. I’ll deny it if anyone asks because as Club Leader I can’t exactly pick favorites, but you’re at the top of my list, darling.”

“Really? Top of the list?” she whispered theatrically, thumb playing with his.

“There’s you, a small gap, then Erica because she scares me, a big gap, the rest of Hellfire, another gap, and Mike.”

“Why is Mike at the bottom?”

“Have you seen his hair recently? He’s trying to steal my look. Can’t have that, they’ll think I’ve gone soft.��

“You are soft,” she said, pointedly.

“I’m Satan’s lost son, princess, haven’t you heard? I’m corrupting children with my dice and cool dragon stories,” he grinned, thoroughly enjoying how easy it was to slip into banter with her.

Dottie looked at their entwined hands with a heavy heart. Here he was, opening up to her, accepting his faults and wanting to change, and she felt like such a hypocrite. All Eddie did was wear his heart on his sleeve. He was open, and honest, and even when he was scared and lashing out there was still a heavy dose of truth embedded into everything he said. He wasn’t a child who needed coddling, he didn’t want anyone’s pity because his life was rougher than others’. He just wanted to be Eddie, wanted people to look at him like that’s all he was: not a failure, not trailer trash, not a sob story. Just Eddie. And Dottie didn’t want to be Just Dottie.

Everything about Dorothy Burke had been kept under several padlocks from the moment she could talk, and every time something important happened, a new one would get added to the chest. There was a key for each padlock, but she guarded them fiercely, only lending them out to her Dad or one of her Aunts and Uncles, immediately asking for them back as soon as they had peeked at her secrets inside. There were systems in place to not have to talk about things. There were schedules, and lists, and routines. If everything looked right from the outside, then everything was right, so Dorothy Burke didn’t get into trouble, didn’t get bad grades, didn’t fool around with classmates who could look into her a little bit too deeply. Everything about her was so tightly wound and the screams coming from inside her backpack were so loud. Something. Had. To give.

“Eddie?” she mumbled. The sound of her own blood rushing in her ears was daunting. “There’s something you should know about me.”

“Okay,” was all he said, keeping his hold on one of her hands while she reached for her bag with the other one.

She put the prom tickets on the floor of the van next to Eddie’s thigh and opened the big zipper. He could see the pink envelope that had been tormenting him for a few days between two notebooks, but Dottie pulled out a piece of glossy paper instead. She pushed the bag aside like it had offended her, and offered the retrieved item to him. For a brief second, Eddie didn’t know what he was supposed to be getting from it. The man in the photo didn’t look like anyone he’d ever seen before, and the place where it was taken was a complete mystery to him. Only when he noticed a baby hanging onto the side of a white tub, yellow pacifier in her mouth and wild curls sticking out did it occur to him that this was a piece of Dottie’s past.

“That’s you,” he said, not really asking for confirmation.

“Yeah. And that’s my Uncle Johnny.”

“Wow. You were tiny.”

There was no date on the back of the photo and Eddie hadn’t been around too many babies to accurately guess her age, but he could tell that her Uncle looked very young. He was wearing an old dark red t-shirt with bleach stains and yellow rubber gloves, posing to the camera with a big grin and a sponge in his hand. He was cleaning something behind a white square thing; the full object wasn’t visible in the photo but if he had to guess, it was probably an appliance of some sorts. A washer or a dryer maybe?

“After my Mom died, we couldn’t afford rent on our own,” Dottie began, eyes stuck to the picture in Eddie’s hand. “My grandparents helped us for a few months but it just wasn’t sustainable in the long run. We had a lot of debts, my Dad was still paying his student loans, and there were so many medical bills, it was just… too much for one person to handle,” Eddie didn’t interrupt her, but tugged her a little bit closer so their knees were touching. “So when my Dad began looking into apartments closer to where he worked to save on gas, Johnny told my Dad that we should all move in together. His lease was up and I loved it when he babysat me, so it seemed like a good idea, y’know?”

“How old were you?”

“Around 11 months? I had just found out that if I grabbed onto things, I could stand up all on my own.”

“I can see that,” he lifted the picture. “Look at those chubby thighs.”

“Still got them,” she laughed. “My Grandma says I’ve got chicken legs.”

“Shit, princess, you can't say that and now show me those weird ass toes now,” he grinned.

“I said chicken legs, not chicken feet. Big thighs, small ankles,” she pushed him away jokingly and he pulled her even closer, his thumb rubbing back and forth on top of her hand.

“So you guys moved into this place?” Eddie looked at the photo again.

“Mm-hmm. No one wanted to rent an apartment to two 23-year-old guys with a baby, they thought it was weird. Like, what were they doing with a kid, y’know? They asked for my birth certificate once, it was such bullshit.”

“They accused your Dad of stealing you?”

“Yeah. It was just one time, and the guy was super weird, but still. I think… Well, I know a lot of landlords thought they were gay. And honestly who gives a shit if they were? Gay people need houses too! It’s not like they live in a magical land far far away. And especially in fucking New York City, like, Broadway is right there.”

“Yeah, no,” Eddie scoffed, his heartbeat rising a little bit. “Total bullshit. Fuck Reagan.”

“Fuck Reagan,” she repeated, and they both knew what they were talking about but it wasn’t the right place or time to discuss it. “That’s how Johnny became Uncle Johnny, actually. There was this apartment that was super cheap, great location, near a daycare, and the owners were this old couple, very traditional, so Johnny lied to them so they'd let us rent it. Said my Dad and him were brothers from different fathers, and had this whole speech about how family always helps family during hard times.”

“Go Uncle Johnny.”

“Honestly, he’s awesome. This is from the weekend we moved in,” Dottie pointed at the photo. “There was this old washing machine in the bathroom, the owners said we could throw it away ‘cause it was broken but when we moved it, the entire wall was covered in black mold. Like, you couldn’t even see the wall behind it, it was gross. My Uncle cleaned it up all on his own and repainted the wall so I wouldn’t get sick. That’s why I knew your mold stain was dangerous.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” she ground her sneaker into the grass. “I… It hurt when you said that I was treating you like a charity case because it wasn’t easy for us either while I was growing up, you know? We lived in that apartment for four years. There were only two bedrooms, and I shared a bed with my Dad until we moved on our own and my Uncle Rob built me a princess bed for my fifth birthday.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I- I didn’t know-”

“I’m not telling you this so you’ll feel bad. I’m telling you because I want you to know that I understand more than you think I do.”

“I know. I know you do, I’m just stupid,” he smiled up at her. “I do this thing sometimes where I convince myself that no one else in the world knows what it’s like to be me and Wayne has to remind me that I’m not as unique as I like to think I am. Not your fault, darling.”

“God, you sound like Ms. Kelly,” she giggled. “I think I’m… too emotionally constipated for my own good? I should probably work on that.”

“Is that not what we’re doing right now?” he set the photo to the side and finally let her hand go, only to pull her between his open legs for a hug. “Opening up and shit?”

“Yeah,” she let herself sink into his embrace. “Feels nice. Thank you for listening to me.”

“Thank you for sharing your story with me.”

They stayed like that for a few more minutes - just hugging each other, backs a little bit less loaded and hearts a little bit heavier. Before Dottie pulled away to put the photo and the prom tickets into her bag for safekeeping, she stopped for a second to kiss Eddie’s crown. It wasn’t a sexy kiss, or even a romantic one; she grabbed his head with both hands and cartoonishly said “mwah” loudly when she pressed her lips to his hair, but it was still charming enough to make him melt. He glanced at her hands and saw the damned pink envelope peeking out while she tucked away her things. Something was still left to give.

“Can I be nosy for a second?” Eddie said, lifting himself from his seat on the edge of his van to help her get in.

“Sure.”

“What’s that pink thing in your bag?”

“Pink thing?” she sat in front of him at their makeshift table and began unwrapping their forgotten tacos.

“Yeah, you were talking about it with Jeff the other day when we were at Gareth’s,” he said, acting nonchalant.

“Pink thing… Oh, you mean this?” she retrieved the envelope from her bag with one hand while she grabbed a plastic cup with her other hand. “It’s a Mother’s Day card! I always get one for my Mom and write her a little note.”

“That’s… that’s really sweet, princess,” Eddie said, suddenly feeling so very dumb. “You celebrate?”

“Yeah! Just like doing something special, y’know? I feel like she deserves it.”

“I get that. Wayne and I get breakfast at a diner and take flowers to my Grandma. ‘S nice,” he gave his taco a big bite. “D’you still wanna get together on Sunday? We can postpone if you have other plans.”

“Actually,” Dottie looked down at her food. They really were great tacos. “D’you wanna come over and celebrate together? I always bake a cake and do a little bonfire thing… It’s silly.”

“It’s not silly,” he shook his head. “I’ll come.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, you are kinda bribing me with cake so…,” he said, downplaying the fact that the tips of his ears were red.

“You’re the worst,” she laughed and he beamed at her, a little bit of guac smudged on the corner of his mouth.

Maybe Dottie could trust Eddie with a key. Maybe she could give him his own to keep, so she couldn’t chicken out and ask for it back as soon as the morning sun made her rethink her choices. Maybe, with time, she could be comfortable enough to give him all her keys. But for now, eating the best tacos she’d ever had in her life with the boy who felt like getting into a warm bed after a long day, this first key was enough. It was only fair to give it to him; he’d given her a key to one of his padlocks too, after all.

taglist (comment below or shoot me a dm if you want to be added!): @munsonology

#bunny writes #small town fic #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x ofc #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things 4 #wayne munson #chrissy cunningham #joseph quinn #baby's first fic

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devildomwriter · 2 years

Text

Obey Me As Tumblr #15

Belphegor: Standing next to sunflowers always makes me feel weak like “look at this fucking flower. This flower is taller than I am. This flower is winning and I’m losing.”

Satan: Wow you are not ready to hear about trees

•

Mammon: Hey guys I’m making French toast sticks in the oven. I’m gonna take a quick nap wake me up in five minutes so I can flip them over

Lucifer: Mammon, it’s been five minutes flip your sticks

Mammon: Snnnnzzz

Beelzebub: MAMMON YOUR STICKS

•

Mammon: Why are shorts called shorts but pants aren’t called longs

Solomon: She wears short shorts I wear long longs

MC: She’s cheer cheerer and I’m on the sit sits

•

Leviathan: The internet is for cowboys only

Www ? Stands for wild Wild West

•

Mephistopheles: I have been sitting in this Burger King for four hours

Beelzebub: They don’t come to take your order you have to go to the counter

•

Mammon: I wanna be a reverse tooth fairy where I rob people and then scatter human teeth on their bed

Solomon: A dentist

MC: I don’t know what your dentist is doing to you but I think you need to go to the police

•

Leviathan: Beauty and the best but in reverse. I kiss the love of my life and she turns into a sick fucking monster and it’s awesome

Mammon: Shrek.

Leviathan: Never mind post cancelled.

•

Solomon: 63 earths can fit inside Uranus

Mammon: One day I’ll be mature enough to read this without laughing

•

Simeon: If you think about it maybe and maybe not means the same thing

Satan: What the fuck have you done

•

MC: I fell in love with him the way ketchup falls out of a bottle. Slowly and then all at once.

Mammon: Oh my god you managed to one up John Green.

•

MC: In the 7th grade I went to see a movie with a boy and in the middle of it he was like “do you wanna kiss” and I was like “excuse me” and he pulled a bag of Hershey’s kisses out of his coat

Asmodeus: DO YOU REALIZE WHAT A GOOD BACKUP PLAN THAT IS

•

Diavolo: Why aren’t there friend pick up lines?

Pick up lines to make friends

Like: Hey that a cute dress, you know where it would look better? On nobody else because you’re a beautiful individual.”

Belphegor: Be my friend or I’ll set your family on fire

Michael: There are two types of people

•

Solomon: Just because you’re trash doesn’t mean you can’t do great things. It’s called garbage can not garbage cannot.

Leviathan: I have found my senior quote.

•

Mammon: If no one comes from the future to stop you from doing it then how bad a decision can it really be?

Belphegor: #new life motto

MC: I think this will be my graduation quote

•

Diavolo: Hey I’ve never had a nightmare before and kinda wanna know what they’re like, can you help me out?

Raphael: Sure! See you soon

•

Mammon: I hate the term spinal fluid it conjures up horrible imagery in my mind

(Lightly taps a spigot I have attached to my spinal column) come get y’all juice

Dantalion: We’ve never met and I hope it stays that way

Mammon: This is the most powerful reply I’ve ever received

•

Belphegor: I will kill you: basic threat; overused; lacks serious weight

Pee your pants: up-and-coming; respectable; unexpected

I will pee your pants: full of promise of grief and terror; absolutely devastating

Solomon: Your pants can’t wait for my pee

Mammon: And here we have it, the most terrifying sentence in the universe

#obey me shall we date #funny obey me #obey me as tumblr #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me simeon #obey me diavolo #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me solomon #obey me belphegor #obey me leviathan #obey me beelzebub #obey me barbatos #obey me luke #obey me raphael #obey me mephistopheles #obey me thirteen

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supercap2319 · 1 year

Text

The Prince & The Fairy Chapter 3 - Season 2

Pairing: Sky x Male Reader

The Winx Club followed Erendor and his caravan as they parked Terra and Sam’s dad’s car in the middle of the road close towards the burned bridge that a drunken Fire Fairy destroyed. They all got out of the car as Terra came up with different ideas for them to try to make this plan still work. “What if I bloom a bunch of pollen and give all the guards allergy attacks? Okay, no, ignore that. That wouldn't work. Okay, no, wait, I've got another. No, wait. This is good, okay. Or, um... No, this is good. What if Aisha makes them all need to pee at the same time? How brill would that be?!”

“No bad ideas in brainstorming, but maybe a breath, sis?” Sam walks over to Musa.

“We’re going to make sure there's not another way to cross the river.” Y/N and Bloom head down the bridge towards the grassy patch at the bottom as Terra continues. “Holograms. What if we use holograms? You and Bloom could create like a mirage and…”

“Can you just stop? Please. My first plan was good. We don't have time to come up with another one.” Aisha snaps as she begins to panic just a bit. The plan was falling apart before they could even try it. Musa comes up to her and touches her arm as her eyes flash purple. There’s a mystical tingle as Musa takes away her anxiety and stress. Musa squeezes in comfort as Aisha takes a breath and relaxes. “It's okay. You got this.” Aisha smiles at her. “I'm gonna take a look at the maps.” She leaves as Sam and Terra look at her.

“What did you just do?” Terra asked.

“I've gotten better at taking in people's emotions with my magic. I just took the edge off her anxiety.”

“Without telling her, songbird?” Sam frowned.

“If she knows I did it, it'll come back. It's okay. Promise,” Musa said.

“Right, it just feels like a really bad idea.”

“Come on. We should help her out.” Musa walks towards the car. Terra and Sam follow.

The river flows gently down stream and Y/N and Bloom travel down there to make sure there’s no other way to cross the bridge. One glance at the very much burned bridge tells Y/N that Sam and Terra were right. There was no way anyone could cross this bridge. Certainly not a caravan of Specialists and their one prisoner.

“Yeah, I’m not wearing the right kind of shoes for this,” Y/N said as Bloom glanced at her brother’s choice in footwear. They’re black combat boots. Like the ones the Specialist wear to fight. “Why would you wear those?”

“Because they were a gift from Sky, and they’re practical for battle. I think.”

“Hmm, right.” Bloom walked closer towards the underside of the bridge and noticed how the legs of it were broken and soaking in the water as her eyes caught something against the stone of the wall. It was a coppery color stained like a murder mystery novel or something out of a horror movie. She saw some blood splatter on some leaves as well. The Fire Fairy darted her head left to right upon instinct. If this blood was fresh, then they may not be alone down here.

Y/N followed Bloom’s gaze at the blood and his stomach tightened. “Damn. I hope Pennywise the Dancing Clown isn’t down here.”

“Shut up. You’re not helping.” Bloom grasped the leaf, ready to pull it off as something fast, small, and black feathered whizzed past her ear as she jumped in fright. “Shit!” They both turned to see a crow fly away from them. Bloom took a shaky breath as she grabbed the leaf. “Hopefully, Terra and Sam can identify it.”

“Yeah, let’s go. This place is creepy as hell,” Y/N said.

Once they make it back to their group, Bloom gives Terra the leaf so she and Sam can determine what kind of animal was attacked. “I think something got attacked down there. There was blood with purple in it. Is that a thing here? Purple blood?”

“Oh, Everything's a thing here, Bloom. We’ll look it up when we get back,” Sam said as he took the leaf.

“Got it. Minor modifications, but the first half of the plan is the same thanks to Y/N. Let's go,” Aisha says as they all climb into the car and drive towards their intended spot to wait for Erendor and the other caravans. That’s when Aisha explains their new plan. “With the bridge out, the caravan'll have to go north.” They park their car somewhere that’s hidden well, then hide themselves too as they wait for the caravans to drive towards them. They wait until the Caravan with Silva in comes to them as Aisha’s eyes flash blue. “I'll flood the transport's engine.” The engine inside the car begins to overheat as steam comes out of the hood as the caravan comes to a complete stop. The driver of the car gets out and curses as he pops the hood of the car to check the damage. “Without Stella’s invisibility magic, Y/N and I had to come up with a way to help Silva break himself out. And thanks to Sam’s abilities of invisibility and boring through natural matter, it’s perfect. Sam will get us the key.”

While the guard checks the engine, Sam comes up from the ground like ShadowCat from X-Men and makes a grab for the key. He glanced up at Musa as her eyes flashed purple as she said, “Wait.” Sam waits for the okay before gently snatching the key away and turning invisible to avoid detection.

“To keep moving, they'll switch Silva to a less secure spot.” Erendor and another guard throw Silva in the back of a more exposed car as they handcuffed him to one of the bars as he takes off once again. “Terra's vines have limited range and Sam can't risk being seen. So instead, we use my water to get Silva what he needs.” A ball of water flies and follows the car as Silva is the only one to see coming towards him and hopes nobody else does. “Timing is everything.”

Riven looks back at Silva and sees the bubble of water with the key in it as it splashes on Silva, giving him the key to his freedom. Riven watches for a few more moments before turning his head, pretending he didn’t see anything. “Then it's up to Silva.” Silva grasps the key in his hand, but doesn’t use it yet.

Terra frowns. “Nothing's happening.”

“He needs a distraction,” Y/N said.

Bloom looks at the empty car. She leans towards Aisha. “Can you pull gas from that tank?” Aisha uses her powers to pull gas from the gas tank as it leaks out as Bloom's eyes flash red as a fire trail burns towards the gas as the car explodes. The car holding Silva comes to a stop as Riven and Dane look back as Erendor looks through the rear-view mirror. “What the fuck?!” They all get out and run towards the explosion as Silva jams the key into the lock of his cuffs to get free. When the sweet sounds of chains fall off, Silva jumps out of the back and into the forest.

Erendor takes notice of Silva’s escape into the woods as they all run back. “Stop!”

They begin to chase Silva through the woods as Dane and Riven have their swords drawn and Erendor has his bow and arrows ready. Silva continues to run as he hears something whistling towards him and he grunts as he feels something pierce his back. “Argh! Ah! Ah!” Erendor shot him twice with target seeking arrows. Silva continues to run, despite the pain he’s in as he finds himself close to the edge of a cliff. Down below is the river. He’s trapped.

“Saul!” Erendor cries out.

Silva has no choice. He jumps over the edge and into the icy water below. He hits the water and sinks down like a rock. Erendor, Riven, and Dane glance down into the river. Looking for any sign of Silva. “Where is he?” They continue to wait as Silva tries to stay under for as long as he can, despite his lungs protesting for air. “He can't

hold his breath forever.” Erendor tells the younger men.

Silva gasps as he begins to feel his lungs ready to burst as he tries not to float back up. Suddenly, another water bubble comes down and moves over his mouth and nose like an underwater breathing mask as Silva feels himself relax. He can breathe once again. Close to where Erendor and the others are at, the Winx Club waits for Musa’s read on Silva’s condition underwater. “He's calming down. We're good.”

“How long can you hold him under, Aisha?” Y/N asks.

“Long enough for them to leave.”

The Specialists realized that they’re not going to find anything just by waiting for him to show up. “Let's move downstream. Either he'll surface or his body will.” They leave as everyone breathes a sigh of relief.

…..

Once they’re sure they won’t return, Y/N and Sam help Silva out of the river as they lay him on some rocks to sit on as Sam and Terra remove the arrows and Silva winces in pain from their piercing points in his back. Once they’ve cleaned the blood, Y/N puts his hands over the former Specialist Headmaster’s back and heals his wounds like he did Sky’s, as Silva shivers slightly from the coldness of Y/N’s magical healing.

Once he’s all healed up, he looks at all of them, but locks eyes with Y/N as he says, “That has to be the most reckless thing you've ever done.”

“I don't think that's very true,” Terra says gently.

“Weren't you here last year?”

“Yeah. When Bloom and Y/N went crazy and let loose evil Headmistress,” Musa smirks at them.

“Silva, what do we do now?” Y/N asked the older man.

“Take me to Magix. Right off the town square, my friend Sebastian owns a store. He helped us take down Rosalind. He'll hide me.” They all get back in Ben Harvey’s car and drive to the town of Magix. They find the store that Silva mentioned. It’s called Sebastian’s First World Goods. Apparently, the people here in the Otherworld have taken a liking to First World objects.

They entered the store where Silva introduced them to a man of 6’0 feet, brown hair and eyes. He leads them to the back of the store as Silva sits and rests while Sebastian goes to get him a blanket. When he comes back, he smirks at Silva, who just shrugged. “I, uh... I was getting a killer Airbnb rate in this place. So I'll expect some form of compensation. All right? Wine's good. Whiskey's better. Don't cheap out.” He sits down next to Silva and points towards his beard. “And, uh, as for this whole hobo situation, right, it's from the '90s, but the blades are still good, so… Just let me know how many bandages you need.” He hands Silva a razor to cut his messy beard he grew in prison.

Silva smiled. “Thank you very much.”

“Anytime.”

Meanwhile, at the front of the shop, Y/N is talking to Sky over the phone to tell him of Silva’s current condition. “I'm with Silva in Sebastian's shop, but I think it's best if you wait until tomorrow. But if you come down after training…”

Sky scoffed over the phone. “I'm not going down there, Y/N.”

“You promised you’d give him a second chance.”

“No, I said that I would think about it, and I have. The answer is no.”

“Sky. Please just talk to him on the phone,” Y/N begged.

“Look, I'm happy you're okay. I'm happy it worked out, and you got what you wanted, but I'm… I don't wanna talk to him,” Sky said, and he could practically see his boyfriend’s disappointed face at his words. “I love you. Be safe and I’ll see you when you get back.” Sky hung up the phone.

Sky walks out of the shed and passes his father as he looks at Riven. “Give me good news.”

“We didn't find a body, so not the worst-case scenario,” Riven shrugged.

Sky nods as he overheard Dane’s conversation with the other Specialists. They’re all around him as he brags about what happened to Silva, or at least what he thinks happened to him. “Three arrows right in the back. Fucking savage. Then he did this sad-ass flop right into the river. It was game over!” Dane says as the other guys chuckle.

Sky huffs as he storms towards him. “You think this is funny?” Dane turns towards him. “Sky! No, we were, um, just chatting.”

“Just Chatting? What about a guy getting shot in the back?” Sky’s anger grows.

“Just messing around. Relax, mate.” Dane touches Sky in a friendly manner.

Sky gets closer to him and towers over the shorter male. “I'm not gonna relax.”

“Okay then, don't relax,” Dane said as he got closer to Sky. “But I think we both remember what happened the last time. Your boyfriend saw you getting owned like the little bitch you really are.” Dane snickers as Sky throws a punch at him and catches him off guard. Sky throws another punch with his left fist and then knees Dane in the stomach. Then he punches him again as the other Specialists watch Sky beat the shit out of Dane. Erendor watches the chaos with an almost amused smile. That same fury Sky was executing on Dane was the same way he used to deal with his enemies. The raw power of a king of Eraklyon. Perhaps there was hope for Sky yet.

Sky continues to punch Dane in the face, hard enough to draw blood on his lips and he probably would have done worse had Riven not pulled him off as Dane hit the ground. “Sky! Get the fuck off him!”

Two Specialists help Dane to his feet. “Man…”

“You let me know when you wanna keep chatting, mate. And don’t you ever mention my boyfriend again,” Sky said as Dane stared hatefully at him.

Sky and Riven pass Erendor as he smiles. “Hmph.”

Back at the shop, Y/N headed towards the back as Silva and Sebastian heard him come in. Silva’s blue eyes looked at Y/N’s expectantly, hoping for some good news about Sky. Unfortunately, Y/N couldn’t give that to him. He bit his lower lip as he looked at Silva. “Sorry, Saul. Um…”

Silva looks down and nods his head in understanding. He looked back up at the Ice Fairy. “Sky will come round.” He doesn’t look too sure, but Y/N decided not to push as he prepared to ask him an important question. “When you were at the Capitol, did you hear anything about Dowling? I've been trying my best, but the Solarian Army, they're giving up and I’m up to my pretty little wings in problems.”

“I wish I knew where she went, Y/N. I do, but we're not gonna give up hope just yet. Sebastian here has a knack for finding things.” He looks at the other man as he nods his head. “Mm-hmm. I'm, uh, I'm like a terrier. But, like, you know, cooler. Actually, maybe a different dog. What dogs are cool?” Y/N hesitates for an answer as he looks down, then back at Silva. “I—so am I supposed to just let it go? Like go back to the school and act like things are fucking normal?”

“No. No, because everything's... it's not normal. You need to remember that, 'cause Rosalind will try to wear you down, and you will forget what normal used to be like,” Silva says as he looks at Sebastian. “Meanwhile, it would appear that Luna allowed Rosalind access to the Restricted Vault.”

“Shit,” Sebastian curses.

Y/N looks surprised. “What is it? What's in the Restricted Vault?”

“Ancient texts. Powerful relics.”

“The good stuff.”

“Mm-hmm. Yeah, she's planning something.

Something big.”

Y/N sighed as he looked down, guilty as his voice trembled. “This is all my fault. All of it. Dowling. You. Sky. Everything that's happening at Alfea…” He begins to cry a bit as Silva looks sad as Sebastian rubs the back of his neck nervously. “...it's all… because I was selfish and I wanted answers. I fucking broke Sky and hurt him in the worst way possible and if I didn’t let Rosalind out, then everything…”

“Somebody else would've, Y/N. She couldn't stay down there forever,” Silva said. “But you're right about one thing. Whatever she's up to, it started 17 years ago. And it started with you and your sister.”

Later, after they all returned to Alfea without getting caught and promising Silva they’d return, Y/N and Bloom found Rosalind in the courtyard looking out of the giant stained glass windows. It was nighttime and the only source of light was three hanging lamps. She didn't move as the twins approached her, ready to tell her the reason they've been holding back.

They both looked at each other as they took a breath. “We've been scared. That's why we've been holding back. Last term we put our magic

and our lives over everything else, and it didn't work out so great.”

“I may have a different opinion about that,” Rosalind said. “You're both the reason I'm standing here.”

“Exactly. And that's the problem,” Bloom said.

“No offense, but everyone in the school hates you and hates what you've done,” Y/N said.

“Ah. The displeasure of the masses. Do you know what happens if you listen to them? The mob?” Rosalind looks to them for an answer to her question. They remained silent as she continued. “Nothing. Nothing happens. Nothing of any significance, anyway. Everyone gets fat and happy. The world grinds to a halt.” She walks away from them towards a bench. “Or they get slaughtered.”

“That's bleak and harsh, don't you think?” Y/N asked.

“That's life. The reality is, I don't care that people hate me. I don't care what they think. That's how I get shit done,” Rosalind said, as she sat on the stone bench and looked at the younger Fairies.

“You care about something,” Bloom said.

“Oh, what’s that?”

“You care about us. We don't wanna hold back anymore.” Y/N looks at her as she smiles. “Excellent, tomorrow we start your lessons in the second term of transformation magic.”

“What‘s that?”

“Charmix.”

Y/N walks toward the Bastion training area. The wet grass clung to his shoes as he walked towards the light of the outdoor flashlight. The wind blew a little chilly air, but that’s one good thing about an Ice Fairy. The cold never bothered him, anyway. As he got closer, he saw the fair hair of his boyfriend as he spun his swords in the air, slashing fiercely as he cut through the night wind.

Riven had told him that Sky was doing some intense training, but he didn’t mention that he was like this. Every swing of his sword; Y/N could practically feel the fury from his current position. Each strike and stab had a purpose, as whatever seemed to be fueling Sky kept at it as he glided with his weapons. The young prince spun his swords in the air as he slammed them on the ground and threw two knives from the back of his armor, and towards the setup targets. It hit a bullseye.

Sweat glistened down Sky’s face as he was breathing heavily and he looked at the target he just hit. Thinking about Silva, his father, all of it left him an angry mess of energy. Sky sighed as his shoulders relaxed. “You’re supposed to be in bed….”

Y/N tried not to blush as he was caught in the act of staring at his boyfriend’s little angry moment. He walks towards him. “I couldn’t sleep. I was worried about you.”

“Well, I’m fine, Y/N. Don’t you have a curfew?” Sky turned towards his boyfriend as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I actually got special permission from our headmistress to come out here and find you. You?”

“Same. Erendor permitted me to be out here for late-night training.”

Y/N nods as he looks at the target with two knives embedded into it. “Wow, you’re pretty tough when your opponent can’t fight back.” Sky gives a humorless chuckle as he grabs his knives and puts them back in their sheaths. He turns and sees Y/N holding two ice daggers.

“What the fuck are you doing, Baby boy?” Sky asked, confused.

Y/N smirks. “Giving you a moving opponent, of course.” He flips a dagger in his hand as he charges forward and takes a stab at Sky, who jumps back in reflex.

He looks at him in shock.“Y/N, stop it!”

“No, you stop it. You want to be angry at someone, Blue Eyes? Be angry at me.” He spun in a circle and swung his knife horizontally across at the Prince as he moved back and grabbed his sword from his back and held it up to shield himself from Y/N’s other dagger. Sky pushed back against him as their weapons broke away from each other, as Sky grabbed Y/N’s right hand and hit it with his elbow as Y/N dropped the right dagger onto the floor. The younger male charged and jumped as he took a swipe at Sky’s head as he ducked and moved behind him and kicked his back as the Ice Fairy stumbled before turning around and sending his arm and weapon forward as Sky stepped to the side, knocked his other weapon from his hand before pulling forward and threw him over his shoulder and flipped his boyfriend on his back.

Y/N groaned as Sky roughly straddled his hips, a fury and a pissed off look on his face as he was panting heavily. “Don’t. Ever. Do that. Again.” Sky practically growls out and Y/N’s cock totally did not twitch at his boyfriend’s deep and husky voice. “Y-Y-Yes, Sir..." Y/N whispered, a voice coated with lust. Sir? Where the fuck did that come from? Sky was just as surprised with the turn of events, and he smirked. “You like it when I take control, huh?" Sky purred, as he leaned forward, his lips so close to the Ice Fairy’s. A quick nod was all Y/N could muster before their lips smashed together. A heated kiss.

The Peters boy moaned against Sky as he pulled on his bottom lip with his teeth and Y/N easily opened up as Sky stuck his tongue into his mouth and explored his cavern. Y/N linked his fingers in Sky’s golden locks as they continued their kiss, but pulled back before any clothes could come off.

“Wow, rough kissing is hot. I think I should bring out this side of you more often,” Y/N whispered as Sky chuckled softly.

Sky gets off his boyfriend and helps him to his feet as he puts away the training targets in the Specialist warehouse of weapons and equipment. Once he’s locked the shed, they both head towards the school. “So, does this mean I can ask what the hell all that was about? How you tried to kill me.”

Y/N rolled his eyes. “Please, I was on my back in less than 10 seconds, in more ways than one.” He smirks. Sky gives him a look as the Ice Fairy sighed. “Okay, fine. Riven told me what you did to Dane, and I'm not saying that he didn't deserve to be knocked down on the pecking order, but still, since when do you fight with your fists instead of your words? This isn't like you.”

“Did it ever occur to you that this was always me? Someone who is ruthless and doesn't take shit from anyone. Not this posh, mild-mannered little prince soldier golden boy who wouldn't dare disobey the rules,” Sky said.

They turned a corner in the hallway towards the main corridor; their feet echoing off the walls. “If I don't know you, Sky, then no one does. This isn't the guy who gave me my necklace or the person I gave my virginity to. I know you're nothing like Erendor.”

Before Sky can say anything about it, they hear someone scream. It's Stella. They run toward the sound as they see Stella and Beatrix helping a bleeding student. It's one of the missing Fairy students. It's Devin. When Stella sees them, she looks scared. “Sky, Y/N, help us.”

Y/N kneels down at Devin’s level and tries to heal him. “Oh, my God. What happened to you?” Devin’s eyes are unfocused and barely open as his breathing is ragged and shallow. He looks at Y/N as the Ice Fairy realizes his magic isn't healing him.

“Rosalind…” Devin chokes out as he slumps forward into Y/N’s arms into unconsciousness.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #sky fate the winx saga #danny griffin #danny griffin x male reader #sky of eraklyon #fate the winx saga #fate the winx club #ice fairy #ice magic

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jeanbie · 1 year

Text

♡˳೫˚∗ LOVELY #2 ★ masterlist.

pairing: jean x reader

genre: domestic au | warnings: suggestive sexual themes at the end | wc: 3.3k

⏤ Jean and Y/N play Mom and Dad for a little bit.

Jean could cry. He could quite honestly, genuinely, whole-heartedly cry, right here and right now in the middle of his living room, surrounded by mess and feathers from the bedroom pillows.

He loves kids, don’t get him wrong- my God, he loves kids, and loves how kids can make a house feel like a home, how kids say some really fucking weird things; but, Jean finds that kids are a lot of hard work. He has half the heart to call his parents and say sorry urgently, because children are like tiny spawns of Satan, demons wanting to cause chaos at every corner.

The last time Jean and yourself were given the mission of looking after your niece and nephews, they were much smaller, and therefore easier to look after. All they did was sleep, and cry when they were hungry or needed to pee or poop, and were perfectly content doing absolutely nothing all damn day. Now, three years later, when your sister and her husband are going on a small self-care vacation to Spain, Jean removes himself from the situation to observe the situation, which in description is the view of his living room completely ransacked and bustling with life, crazed children dashing around at full speed, like Mario Kart characters using the star.

It’s so overwhelming that he actually doesn’t even know what to say. When the fuck did they get so hard to look after?

Whenever your niece and nephews came over to visit, they clung to Jean like moths to lamplight. You never knew why, but it made sense. Jean was fun, and easy to get along with, and perhaps his kind-hearted nature was universally loved by all ages. Even when they were babies, they settled with Jean, staying silent and googly-eyed whereas in your arms they screeched, like banshees or dinosaurs swinging in trees. You couldn’t fault them; Jean was irresistible, maternal almost in the way his voice changed around the kids, the way he laughed at their weird jokes and forced himself into pretend roles, like the mean villain coming to take over their Playmobil hospital.

Eight a.m, that’s when they arrived. Jean had got up at six, eager and anxious, already cutting up salad bowls made up of apple slices and watermelons. Over an overly bitter cup of tea, you heard him ask, “wait, can three year olds eat watermelon?”, and you glared at him to resist the urge to respond with something that may well hurt his feelings.

(1)

“Y/N, I’m sorry, but you’re boring.”

Five year olds can be blunt and mean. You now know this to be a fact, because the eldest of the four just said that to you, his hands on his hips with his lips in an unamused pout. He stands by the window, one foot on the Playmobil ambulance and the other on his leg like a flamingo.

“What? Why, what did I do?” you ask, confused and honestly, slightly offended. Jean sits off to one side petting the hair of the youngest, his secret favourite because she’s not quite old enough to ask questions or complain.

“That’s what I mean, you’re not doing anything,” he huffs. “You’re supposed to be the bad police officer.”

“There’s no such thing as a bad police officer,” you try to tell him. You pause, realising you’re wrong but also realising that you’re not advised to get political with a five year old, especially one who still thinks the tooth fairy is a real thing. “I’m trying to be realistic.”

“You suck,” comes his reply. Jean snorts, shrugging when you glance at him angrily.

“Stop, you know I’m your favourite Aunt,” you say to him sweetly.

Your nephew, sassy and honest little Jamie, pulls a face and sits back down with a huff, snatching the ambulance off the carpet to thrust the small man inside. “You’re my only Aunt, Auntie Y/N.”

Right.

The not-so-bad-police-officer gets snatched away from you seconds later and you decide, with finality and assertiveness, that you’re done with playing pretend with them. You lift yourself up off the floor, crouching over to take Maria away from Jean’s arms. Jean pouts, his eyes blown wide as he watches the baby being lifted away from him and towards you.

“Uncle Jean can be the villain,” you suggest, making Jamie forget how uncool you are as he launches into an enthusiastic cheer, followed by his siblings who are making noise just because he is. Jean stares at you, pleading. “Anybody hungry?”

“No thanks, Auntie Y/N,” Jamie replies.

“Oh, do we have animal crackers?” asks Marcel politely, and you nod, taking his hand as you walk towards the kitchen, where a neatly packed bag sits on the counter where you left it when the four little monsters came by your apartment this morning.

(2)

“Y/N, did you move Jamie’s inhaler?”

“No, why?”

Jean appears in the doorway to the kitchen, scratching the back of his neck out of a nervous, absent-minded habit. His eyes are glued to the four children in the living room.

“They’re running around a lot, I don’t want Jamie to lose his breath and have an attack,” Jean explains, meanwhile you rummage around in your sister’s handy dandy travel bag and search for the tiny blue inhaler. Jean braves looking away from them and instead over to you, “if it’s not in there, it’s fine, I’ll check the bathroom again.”

You hum, searching blindly. “Yeah, it’s not here, baby. Check the cabinet under the sink, I’m eighty nine percent sure that it’s in one of those plastic boxes.”

Jean’s eyebrows push up in amusement: “Jamie’s life is counting on this eighty nine percent.”

“The more you question me, the less confident I get. Check the bathroom,” you reply, shoving a baby carrot into your mouth as you follow Jean out of the kitchen, opting to watch the kids while he rummages around in hordes of bathroom mess. While Jean hurries into the hallway to check the bathroom, you step out into the living room and pause comically.

The four kids seem perfectly happy, loud and obnoxious and covered in a thin layer of white feathers, bleeding from one of the pillows mangled on the floor. Without context, this looks like a murder scene, with crayons broken and split around the floor and the couch throw on the floor next to the Playmobil set, and you’re half praying on everybody’s behalf that those pillows aren't the ones from the master bedroom, because you’re pretty sure you don’t have any spares laying around for later.

“Found it,” Jean returns a few minutes later, holding the small inhaler in his hands. After taking a second out of the room, when he comes back he doesn’t quite know what to say. “The mess wasn’t my fault.”

You frown, your hands on your hips. “I know. Maybe you should put on a movie, keep them entertained for a bit so they don’t completely trash our house.”

Jean chews the inside of his lip. “Is it cheating if we call over Marco to help? He’s always on kiddie pool duty, he’s better with kids than we are.”

“You’re so good with kids, shut up,” you say to him, gently smacking his arm. “They love you.”

(3)

“I hate carrots.”

“You do like carrots.”

A gag. “Vegetables! Yuck!”

With one hand, you rake through your hair, staring tiredly at Jamie and Freddie as they fuss over the food on their plates. And it’s not even like you wanted to give them carrots! You’re just following the note left for you in the bag, with the instructions of an actual parent being your law. Jean sits at the other end of the table, twirling his fork around his food as he watches, feeling increasingly guilty.

It’s hard being an Aunt, especially hard being the uncool Aunt. He knows it’s just a joke, just something the kids say because you’re looking out for them, and he frowns, looking around the table.

“I’m allergic to carrots,” Jamie says suddenly.

“Don’t lie,” you tell him, aeroplane feeding Maria who seems to be the only baby present who appreciates your efforts. She laughs and squeals as the spoon of food comes towards her and that makes you smile, animated sound effects as she eats it.

Jamie pouts, “It’s true.”

“Your Mom told me to feed you this, don’t hate me,” you say to him, making your own pout which he, as a stubborn five year old, ignores. “Come on, eat all your food and you can have pudding afterwards. I’ll let you have two slices of cake instead of one.”

He feels tempted. “Can I leave the carrots?”

“No. Carrots will make you super strong,” you explain. “Uncle Jean ate carrots when he was a kid and now he’s real strong, look!”

Jamie glances at Jean, who smiles for effect and encouragement. “Auntie Y/N is right. I hated carrots too, but I wanted to be big and strong so I ate all my vegetables.”

A groan of sadness comes out of Jamie’s mouth. At this point, Freddie is convinced, wolfing down his carrots that he actually doesn’t hate after-all, considering they’re gone in a matter of seconds. Marcel seems unbothered about the entire thing, quietly eating his food because he knows that he wants that additional slice of cake, even if Jamie is going to refuse it, he is not!

Before you can have a mental breakdown at the dinner table, Jean leans over slightly and looks at Jamie with a gentle and wide-eyed expression, child-like, engaging. “Did you also know that all the good kids on Santa’s nice list eat vegetables?”

Mid-mumble, Jamie freezes, looking at Uncle Jean. “Really?” Intonation, his voice is so high.

Jean nods. “Mhm! Santa said that if you eat your veggies and say thank you to whoever made you the meal, he’ll bring you anything you want on Christmas Day. Don’t you wanna be on the good list?”

Jamie nods furiously. “Yep! Uncle Jean, that’s so cool, you know Santa!”

(4)

Splash.

“Careful, honey, don’t get the floor all wet.”

“Sorry, Auntie Y/N. It was the ducky’s fault!”

Bath time is a chore, surprisingly harder than it was when they were babies and needed extra attention in the water. Marcel sits solo in the bathtub, the sound of Freddie and Jamie running around in the bedroom an ambience as you crouch by the tub and help Marcel get clean. Maria is the only child clean and patient, so calm and cute and cuddly and ready to go to sleep the second her bathtime is over. Jean groans somewhere in the apartment, keeping the twins entertained while Marcel finishes up.

“O-kay,” you say, after a few minutes of helping wash away some suspicious chocolate stains off his arms. Most likely super-cool-Uncle-Jean gave them something extra after dessert, and honestly, that wouldn’t surprise you if it were true. “All done! Feel better?”

Marcel nods, letting the duck float away. “Yep. I’m cold.”

“Once you’re dry and changed, we can put on the heating and finish up watching Cars, does that sound okay?”

“That sounds fun, Auntie Y/N! You’re the bestest,” he grins, and you grin too, because honestly, you’re taking coolness points in gasps, and anything to prove you’re not some grouchy unfun Aunt is welcomed and encouraged. Marcel doesn’t make a fuss as he gets dried, shuddering for extra effect and happily snuggling into his duck onesie once everything is dry and ready for him to get changed.

Marcel is a human rocket. He hops into his onesie and races back into the living room, reaching his final destination of Uncle Jean as a loud groan fills the house, likely due to the fact that Marcel has jumped on top of his Uncle, like he always does, just to get the reaction. You sniff, leaning to flush the toilet because apparently they haven’t quite mastered that one yet, and drain the bathtub. The floor sits wet, pooling like an extra tub or the floor of a shower and you sigh, grabbing an extra towel off the rack to soak up the bathwater, the low bubbling sound of the water disappearing briefly out-yelling the terrorsome three out in the living room.

“Need any help, baby?”

Behind you, Jean appears in the doorway, not quite in and not quite out. He hovers, waiting patiently to see if he can find an excuse to stop being a couch for the three kids. You lean over the bathtub, taking out their small toys and setting them on the side with hopes that they will dry overnight.

“Nah, I’m okay,” you tell him, looking over your shoulder with a smile. Jean stands there, having changed, in an oversized jumper and sweats. “What are they doing?”

“Fighting,” Jean says. “I’d break it up, but I wanna see if they’ll learn their lesson once they get hurt.”

“That’s perfect. But fucked. Are we fucked up?”

Jean shrugs. “Worked for me and my cousins when we were younger. I turned out okay!”

You look at him for a moment with a bewildered look. “Sure, if that’s what you want to call it.”

The bathtub makes a gurgle, the water gone and you crouch to pick up the bathmat, hanging it over the small radiator for it to dry faster. Jean then takes several steps backwards as you meet him outside, his smile widening as you close the door and turn off the light, falling into his arms with a soft thud and sigh. His arms wrap around you sweetly, warm and tight, like home. Jean likes weekends for the moments he gets to spend with you, but today, he’s barely seen you in his own home. Longing- Jean tightens his arms around you and presses his lips to the crown of your head, gently swaying you from side to side like a waltz. He knows you feel the same way, the same kind of tired and wanting energy, as your arms lock around him tighter.

“Come on,” Jean mutters, pouting slightly when you pull out of his embrace and glance up at him. He exaggerates it, humming, and then leaning to press his lips to yours. Moments after he pulls away, he comes back in for another, and another, his hands molded behind your back. “Love you,” he adds in between one kiss, and you hum in reply. It’s enough.

There’s a pitter-patter of feet. “Ewwww! Auntie Y/N and Uncle Jean are having sex!”

You pull away from Jean with such speed that it might give you whiplash; Jamie stands looking slightly horrified in the hallway, near the door to the living room, proud of his rising of ews that follow from his siblings near the TV.

“Don’t say that! Where did you even learn that word?” you gasp, moving towards the five year old.

Jamie shrugs. “Heard it at Mommy’s birthday party. Uncle Reiner said it.”

You sigh knowingly. “Should have known.”

“Please don’t go around saying that when your Mom and Dad come to get you,” Jean adds in, looking flustered from behind you.

(5)

The bathroom light switches off. Jean closes the door and rubs his face, groaning out aches from his shoulders as he approaches the bed, shirtless, his toes curling into the carpet.

“I swear they weren’t that crazy last time we looked after them,” Jean says, sinking onto the bed. “Have they always been like that? Am I the crazy one?”

“It’s this scary thing called growing up,” you reply, sitting back against your pillows with your phone in your hands, the screen lighting up with new messages from your sister. “Can’t believe you got them to go to sleep without any trouble. It’s giving me baby-fever…”

“I’m gonna - I’m gonna have to ask you to slow down,” replies Jean, sounding winded.

“Everytime you hang out with them, it just proves to me how good you are with kids, and how, you know, someday you might be a Dad and- ugh, you’re gonna be great,” you sigh, followed by Jean grunting with amusement and shuffling to lay right beside you, his nose on your arm. You set your phone down, turning to match together against him like a puzzle. “They’re not shy when it comes to picking favourites. God, they really hate me.”

Jean rolls his eyes, “No, they don’t. They love you- you’re so good with looking after them. If I was doing all this alone, there’s no doubt I’d probs forget to feed them at dinner time. I’d straight up order a pizza and forget that kids need certain foods to grow up.”

Laughter suffices as a reply, and that’s that for a little bit. In his head, Jean wants to talk all about how great of a Mom you’ll be, how amazing it would be for him to watch you raise children, his children. He doesn’t say any of these things, because he’s one-hundred-percent certain that you know it all already, and that you’re just modest and insecure about it. So, Jean hums and pulls you closer for a hug, smooching your lips when you’re close enough.

The door is closed. The four kids are sleeping, Maria so deep in sleep that not even her brothers could wake her up if they screamed. Jean knows this. You know this. So, he moves his hand from your back to your ass, feeling the curve, feeling the smile against his teeth.

“Stop, our niece and nephews are next door,” you warn him, quietly, mumbles against his mouth. Jean smirks, gently nipping your bottom lip with his teeth and pushing his head into your neck.

“And it would suck to wake them up,” Jean replies, worming his way into places hot and inviting. “So, keep it quiet, yeah?”

You huff, rolling to your back and parting your legs as Jean slots in between. “I love when you get bossy on an evening,” you say to mock him and he laughs quietly.

“I love you,” he breathes.

(6)

“And they were good?”

Jean and yourself share a glance.

“Golden,” you say.

Your sister stands in the kitchen, giving you both the stink eye while the three older kids race around the house, excited at the fact their cool parents are home three days later. Honestly, she knows you’re lying, because these are her kids and she knows them better than anybody.

Anyway, she shrugs. “They must always be good for you guys. You can babysit more often.”

Jean tenses in his seat. He loves these kids but, holy fuck, the thought of looking after them again so soon makes him want to throw up. If there is one thing Jean has learnt from looking after three wild rampaging children and one angelic princess baby- but, again, he has no favouritism!-, it’s that it is absolutely harder than it looks.

It’s not enough to put him off though.

(7)

[5:45pm] Mean Sibling #1: Tell me why Jamie is talking about how you and Jean had sex [5:46pm] You: OMG THATS NOT TRUE [5:46pm] You: well, i mean… [5:46pm] You: not in front of them !!!! what kind of aunt do you think i am????? [5:49pm] Mean Sibling #1: How does he even know what sex means….how does he know that word [5:50pm] Mean Sibling #1: Hubby is laughing at me. what does my husband know that i don’t [5:52pm] You: that sounds like a you problem [5:54pm] Mean Sibling #1: ok well sorry for accusing you :P gotta give my FIVE YEAR OLD a talk….dear fucking god [5:59pm] Mean Sibling #1: wait a damn second wtf do you mean NOT IN FRONT OF THEM??? [6:00pm] Mean Sibling #1: Y/N ANSWER UR PHONE [6:01pm] Mean Sibling #1: Y/N [6:03pm] Mean Sibling #1: fucker

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