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writing-in-glitter-pen · 4 months

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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ what I know to be true ⋆｡˚ ೀ⋆｡˚ ༘

Childe wasn't a big fan of the Tsaritsa's demand for him to find a wife, until he'd come upon the perfect girl for the job. You—a lady he knew in his childhood to be a horrible nuisance and demon on Earth. Not only would this marriage fulfill his duty, but would let him settle a long-time grudge as well. Little did he know, he stood more to gain from this partnership than he thought.

Childe x fem!reader II arranged marriage, angst? to fluff, childhood enemies to lovers, romance!

Childe was never one for romance, and especially not for commitment.

He just had so much else on his plate, much bigger dreams than that of settling down in a household and abandoning his place on the battlefield.

He was always looking ahead to a future of bloodshed, of power, of someday ruling the world.

That wasn't going to happen if a distraction stood in his way.

He would sometimes muse about having kids, loving the idea of continuing his lineage and watching a bunch of mini-me's run around, but ultimately, he decided his duty to the Tsaritsa would stand in the way of him being a good father. So he'd just have to settle for being an amazing uncle to the children his siblings would eventually have, spoiling them with presents at Christmas time and teaching them how to protect themselves out in the wild.

So when he was called into the Tsaritsa's throne room and received the news that a harbinger of his status was to be married, in order to keep up with regal airs the nobles of Snezhanaya, he was, respectfully, very unhappy.

"You'll be seen at balls and lead battalions. Your role must be carried with honor. Nobody will respect an old lonely man.", she claimed, then drew out a long, thin arm to hold his chin with a bony hand—long pointed nails pressing divots into his skin. Though her touch was frigid, she looked down at him with a certain fondness in her eyes, though the sincerity of it was undistinguishable. "You need a pretty thing by your side to elevate your status. You know I only want what's best for you.", she cooed, like she was addressing a child.

He new better than to disobey her commands, and something about the smoothness of her voice assured him that this was the right choice. He only nodded, though his fists clenched at his sides in dismay.

Childe read over the listed names of eligible young ladies for him to marry with contempt; scrolling through the meaningless last names and accompanying statures, ordered from top to bottom by how highly they stood in the totem pole of nobility. Like he cared where the girl would come from.

He felt guilt for the miserable thing that would have to marry him; though he could care less about who these women were, he believed that they deserved a partner that loved them, or at least a good man that could stand to take care of them. All they would be to him is a nuisance, a label which they had done nothing to earn.

Though, when he neared the end of the list, a section devoted to common folk who had certain merits like striking beauty or some sort of fame, that he found a name he recognized.

Your name.

Oh, how he remembered you.

You were the daughter of good friends of his parents. Your families would often gather for holidays or dinner parties, sharing what little they had in the name of kinship. The gatherings were lively, full of happiness and cheer...

But you had a certain countenance that stood out to him and branded your name into a special part of his brain to be remembered for the rest of his life.

You were a little brat was what you were.

Though you were only a toddler when he met you, having only just taken your first steps while he was already halfway through being eight, he found you to be the most insufferable little human he'd ever met.

Your parents would always gab and brag about what a good little girl you were; how you never cried or screamed, how you were sweet and patient and loving—a wonderful surprise for parents preparing for the "terrible two's.".

They had to be lying, because every time Ajax would come into view you'd immediately throw a fit, wailing and swiping at his face with a kind of rage an entire army of men could not match.

He had no idea why; he never touched you, or spoke to you, all he did upon your first meeting was draw back in repulse.

You weren't a pleasure to look at; with your beady little eyes and thick eyelashes that lined them, your thin eyebrows and piercing gaze. You looked like some haunted porcelain doll. And there was a certain consciousness behind your eyes that children your age were not supposed to have.

His little siblings were much cuter.

And he did not hesitate to say that.

"Tonia was a prettier baby. What's wrong with her?", he piped up, humiliating his mother and father who immediately scolded him for his rudeness. Your mother only laughed.

"Trust me, she'll be a beauty when she grows up. I won't be surprised when you come around here in sixteen years asking to marry her."

This started a little musing session between your mothers, giggling about the possibility of their children being wed and how wonderful that would be for their friendship and their families.

Meanwhile, Ajax was dwelling on how that would absolutely never happen—if the look on your face was any indicator.

You were red as a tomato, nose scrunched in distain as your eyes pierced his. Like you'd understood him.

How was he supposed to know babies could take offense?

Whether or not your infant brain could comprehend his words, your hatred was clear, and before he could react, your soft little hand went flying towards his face and landed with a resounding THWAP!

Even though you struck him, you immediately burst into tears, bawling crocodile tears that ran down your face and dripped off of your chin.

All of the adults in the room immediately ran to your aid, hushing and petting you while scorning Ajax for "tormenting the poor girl."

Never before had he felt so cheated.

That begun his feud with a two year old.

Your detest for one another ran deep. So much so that every gathering between your families ended in you receiving plenty of sneaky pinches to your fat baby skin and him risking a bald spot with the amount of hair you'd rip out of his head.

It was a nightmare you could walk too, since you'd often seek him out just to babble in annoyance and tug at the knee of his trousers.

"See? Look at how much she likes you!", his mother would coo, but he knew better. Your grappling with his pants was your pea-brained strategy to get him to bend down and remove you so you could bop him one on the nose.

He swore you were such a strong baby. He'd rather take a hit from a club than suffer the force that your tiny fists could bring down on his head.

That's why you were the perfect girl to be his wife

If he were to marry any other woman, the guilt of leaving her alone at home for long stretches of time, depriving her of having the good husband she deserves rather than a man who could never love her, would be overwhelming.

Sure, he was a monster, but he wasn't about to let some innocent bystander be collateral damage.

But you? The evil, horrible little wench you are? You more than deserved it.

In his mind, he'd actually be doing his fellow man a favor by saving an unsuspecting bachelor from accidentally marrying a grisly thing like you.

So, although his retainers were already in the process of scheduling meetings with his potential brides, he plucked your name from the list without hesitation.

"Set the wedding date. I'll have that one."

The organizers looked between themselves warily, deciding whether or not they should challenge him on this monumental decision.

"And nothing too grand—it'll just be family.", he cooly added, leaning back in his chair to rest his feet upon his desk and crushing the list of names under his dirty boots.

In the end, the harbinger always gets what he wants, so his retainers retreated with quiet nods and quick steps.

Though Childe acted aloof towards the decision to have you as his bride, when the day of the wedding actually arrived and he found himself standing at the altar of a small church in Mosepok—his home town, his palms were sweating and eyes darting around nervously. He shifted his weight on his feet as the congregation waited for you to enter; this was supposed to be a small ceremony, but leave it to his mother and father's proud announcements to their friends and neighbors to draw a crowd. As his eyes scanned the faces of those who'd known him in his youth, he realized near all of the small port town was packed into the pews. He wracked his brain for the answer as to why these people would want to watch their old town troublemaker's union, but he supposed it would be the most interesting thing to happen in the town since his era of delinquency.

It was a miracle that the budget the Fatui gave Childe for this wedding greatly superseded the amount he'd needed for the original plan of a small gathering; it was more than enough to feed the whole town for a night, which actually brought a flicker of joy to Childe's chest.

He was pleased that he could give back to the community that handled him like a family in his childhood.

But that flicker was immediately quenched when the creaking sound of the heavy oak doors that led into the chapel reverberated through the room—revealing the silhouette cast in white of his bride.

His stomach turned with anxiety. Childe had led battalions into what could be considered suicide missions if not for their miraculous victorious outcome, and yet, somehow, the fear he felt standing in front of a girl that, though she may not be small by definition, definitely looked so standing next to him, significantly surpassed that of which he's ever felt.

His cold body shook like he stood inches from death.

Suddenly, he remembered the fury your little body had when you were only a baby, and it dawned on him that you've only gotten bigger, smarter, stronger. A little arbiter of the apocalypse couldn't have grown into the meek woman he imagined, if anything, her bloodlust grew with age.

What did he get himself into? Was he an idiot? Did he, blinded by his scheming for revenge, land himself in a lion's den?

With a light tap on the shoulder from the priest, he jolted out of his stupor and found you standing in front of him already, suddenly remembering that he was now to lift your veil.

His hands shook as he reached out, bracing himself for the hideous face he'd been forced to associate with at every friendly gathering between your parents in childhood, and now, due to his own brashness, would have to associate with every time he returned home or attended public events.

He took a deep breath and shut his eyes as he took the fabric between his white-knuckled fingers and threw the thing up and over your head. The procession hummed with awe and approval—some more boisterous men from the docks whistling, to which their wives jabbed an elbow into their ribs.

The sounds of adoration resounding from the audience perplexed Childe, drawing his interest and encouraging him to open one wary eye and peek at you.

But his cautious peek grew into an owlish gawking and dropped jaw when the woman before him shined like an angel.

This couldn't have been the girl he knew in her infancy; her once-beady eyes now twinkled like stars, her red puffy face was now sculpted and the only remnants of her discoloration resided in dusted pink pigments on her cheeks. They were so perfectly placed that they could be mistaken for a painting by an artist with a keen eye. He pried his gaze from your enrapturing eyes to ogle your lips—plushy and inviting. He'd give anything to kiss a gorgeous woman like you.

And he remembered with an unexpected delight that he would by the end of this ceremony.

Before he knew it, the soft ring of your voice settled upon his ears. Having been caught in a trance, he hadn't realized the procession already arrived at your vows.

He only tuned in after the opening sentences of your declaration had passed, your words blurred by his reverie.

"I promise to wait for you when you go and embrace you when you return; to make a warm, solace of a home for you that you can always come back to, whether there be a roof over our heads or not. I promise to follow you through this life and meet you in the next, to be by your side when you need me, no matter how far apart we may be forced to exist. I promise to love you and only you, to be true as long as your ring encloses my finger, and promise to keep it there forever. I will take your family into my arms just as you will me, care for them—as they are an extension of you, to love them just as I do you. I'll hold you ever close to my heart, speak to you with nothing but kindness, recognize your face as that of my partner in life, my one and only, and..."

Childe jumped when he felt your warm hand sneak up on his and gingerly intertwine your fingers, to which he did not resist, nor want to.

"I promise to love you as you are; no matter how much the years we spend together may change us."

To his puzzlement, Childe felt a certain wetness roll down his cheek, causing him to look up at the skylight above the both of you to check if it was raining. When another droplet ran down the other side of his face, he realized he was crying.

Childe never cried, he couldn't even remember the last time it had happened; maybe it was sometime when he was a boy, but the memory simply did not exist. These were not tears shed in misery, they were spurred by your words of devotion, words he'd never been blessed with before. He truly wondered now if you may be divine, but all he beheld of you told him you were, in fact, human, and not a vision of absolution sent from the heavens above.

You tilted your head to the side and blinked your dollish eyelashes at him, obviously waiting for something, to which he remembered that is was now his turn.

He had neglected to write vows beforehand or memorize the traditional vows spoken by couples bound by marriage as an arrangement. He had, in fact, planned on skipping the process altogether, but your profession of love caught him off guard and incentivized him to speak his own.

So, with a blank mind, he resorted to letting the few truths he knew spill from his mouth.

"I'd only known you during our childhoods, but how you've blossomed and changed has..."

He had never been one for words, so making something up on the spot in front of quite literally a hundred people was daunting. His voice seized with trepidation, but he took a breath and moved forward.

"Has...left me speechless. My mind is empty, and all I can think of now is...that I am blessed."

He swallowed a lump in his throat and continued, struck by your endearing gaze on him—it made his voice quiver as it resounded from his chest.

"I'd assumed I knew you, but it's clear to me now that I have so much more to learn."

He unconsciously squeezed your hand for comfort, and, with a gentle smile on your face, you reassuringly squeezed back; making him sigh and yearn to feel more of you—imagining that you felt like warm cotton, soft and homey, something he could bury himself in and happily stay there for eternity.

"And I want to learn it. I...want to spend my whole life in awe of you, discovering as much as I can, knowing you like I know myself."

He could not hesitate before he blurted his next statement, his voice getting carried away from him and spilling his most personal beliefs.

"And loving you as you love me."

Your cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink, and your eyes glimmered as your perfect lips stretched into an even more enticing smile. He could hear your soft, happy sigh, a sound that not even the priest beside the two of you could catch, almost like a secret meant just for him.

Your sweetness enthralled him like nothing he'd ever experienced— slowly convincing him that you very well may be the best thing that's ever happened to him.

"I'll take care of you.", he promised, and meant it. "I'll spend the rest of my life ensuring your safety and happiness. Despite what you promised before, I will always put a roof over your head. You'll be forever warm and safe. I will fight for you, die for you, do anything you ask. You will want for nothing as long as you're mine."

His vow had come upon its conclusion with one final promise he all but growled, like it was somehow in danger of being broken—that he would go to any length to protect.

"And you will forever be mine."

His pause at the end indicated to the priest that the his vow had ended, and the way your lips parted in wonder and your wide eyes remained locked on his made him want to lean in and kiss you like every inch of his body burned to do. But he had to, begrudgingly, wait; hoping the ceremony would end as soon as possible so he could finally have you to himself and ask you all the questions he was dying for the answers to.

Did you really mean what you said? He sure did, and he didn't even know he had the capacity to not only promise, but want, desperately so, the fulfill the oaths he had declared to you.

Soon enough, the priest announced it was now time for the bestowing of the rings—a symbol of the bond you will share for eternity.

As the ring bearer, Childe's dear brother, Teucer, brought the rings resting on a white silk pillow over to the altar and held it over his head while he balanced on his tippy toes so the two of you could reach the rings with ease. Childe immediately felt awash in shame. All he'd purchased for you was a simple silver band—no precious gems, no original detailing, just a band. He didn't expect to want to take pride in the symbol of his loyalty you'd wear for him on your finger. He'd get you a new one, a better one—one he could admire as he kissed your hand, held it with adoration and smoothed his fingers over it.

But although the ring fell below expectations, there was no disappointment on your face. You barely glanced at it, your eyes trained on his face with a fondness he'd never received before. Your gaze had his heart spilling over with exaltation.

You took his hand in yours and slipped the perfectly fitted ring around his finger, giving it a small squeeze when you were done—as if to brand your affection deep into his hand.

He returned the gesture, taking your other hand in his and, carefully, securing the ring around your finger as well; he breathed a sigh of relief and felt a weight he hadn't known was resting on his shoulders alleviate. His heart thundered in his chest, threatening to leap out in a desperate attempt to be ever closer to yours.

The priest spoke, but his voice was drowned out by Childe's inner voice, wailing for you.

All he could register was the sound of your silver bell-like voice, piercing through the fog in his head like a star's light in the void of the night sky above.

"I do.", you said.

He couldn't tell if he'd rushed ahead of the priest's announcement of his turn or not, but he followed your statement blindly.

"I do.", he whispered ardently, brushing the backs of those precious hands of yours softly with his thumbs.

After the final blurb recited by the priest, a sentiment he couldn't bring himself to listen to in his anticipation, he finally heard the words he'd been waiting for.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Without a moment of delay, he brought both of his hands up to cup your cheeks, a look of ache in his face as it felt like you had reached an invisible hand into his chest and gripped his heart, and kissed you.

Fervently, passionately kissed you.

It took your breath away, left you panting when he finally pulled away after remembering he was, in fact, in front of his parents and broader community.

But cheers sang from the crowd for your union as he led you back down the steps of the altar and out of the church, eyes trained on your feet with your hand secured in his—watching carefully as you descended to make sure you wouldn't fall. He treated you as if you were sculpted from crystal glass.

After the two of you crossed the threshold out of the church as one, Childe gently tugged your hand to draw you closer so that he could whisper in your ear.

"Could we take a walk in the garden?"

While the guests made their way to the reception hall for their lavish dinner, you and Childe strolled through the church's garden together, hands still intertwined as the two of you gazed at the various winter shrubs and evergreen trees sprinkled with snow. It was beautiful in its own kind of way; the way life persevered through otherwise uninhabitable conditions, how even the bear oak trees existed as intricate silhouettes against the grey sky—providing cover as the sun sank down and gave way to a grim dusk, it was wonderful, and in this moment, it was yours to share.

The two of you came to a halt at a marble bench next to a large, frozen fountain, adorned with swirling details and moulding from an older, more fanciful era. He swiped off the snow that had built on top of the bench, then removed his large, fur-lined cloak to rest on the surface. He led you down to sit on it, having fashioned a dry, warm seat for you as he stood.

"Won't you be cold?"

"I'll be fine.", he assured you. He'd grown used to the frigid air of his home country, having entered various conflicts with nothing but thin linen to cover him for the sake of his movements not being burdened by thick, heavy fabric.

"Thank you.", you spoke, softly, and the words warmed his chest more than any coat could.

He stood there for a long moment, just taking in the sight of you. He just couldn't believe you were real, and couldn't believe you were his at so little a cost—he'd done nothing but bellyache and pluck your name off of a paper, and somehow the situation ended up being the best decision of his life. He'd found someone that claimed to truly, deeply love him by sheer chance.

And that thought brought him to the question that had been weighing on his mind since your vows.

"Did you really mean what you said?", he asked, quietly, hesitantly. After the words left his mouth, he wished he'd never said them. He didn't want to know the answer; if he could live in a fantasy where a miracle like you truly adored him, he'd seize the opportunity and hold it close to his heart for the rest of his life. He felt like such a fool.

"Of course I did.", you chuckled, like the question was ridiculous.

"I thought you hated me.", he confessed, his curiosity for your change of heart getting the best of him when he knew better than to ask too many questions. You only quirked your head and blinked at him, indicating that he needed to clarify. "When we were younger, you acted like you wanted my head on a stick."

To that admission, you laughed heartily. It was a lovely sound, one his mind would no doubt play on repeat in his darkest of times, sending sparks to his heart that would keep him moving forward—back to you so he could hear it again and again. "I was a toddler, dear. I didn't understand my feelings! And you were pretty nasty to me, too.", you said with a playful, pointed look.

The term of endearment made his heart bubble, craving to hear you say it again, but his mind was desperate for more answers. "But...how did you...", he coughed awkwardly, "fall for me?".

His carefully spoken question only made you giggle once again, but you could understand his confusion.

"Oh, Ajax. You were the most entertaining person I've ever met. I know we fought, but I remembered your presence in my life so fondly. And I'd look at pictures of us from our old gatherings, where our parents would force you to hold me on your lap and smile, or take candid shots of us chasing each other around, and I'd wish for you to come back so we could fight again.", you laughed at the memory. "I thought of you all the time, you know. And, as I grew older and life passed by, I'd keep looking back on those photos and...", your cheeks turned even redder than the chilly air had already done, flushing your cheeks and nose. After this conversation, Childe would make sure to rush you inside so you could warm up by a hearth. "Well, my heart would beat for you. And I wished you would come back for different reasons...so I could see you again and fall in love with the man you've become."

Childe gulped in shame. He knew the man he'd become was...cruel. Wicked. He'd never thought so little of himself than when he stood before you, your glorious, pure eyes assessing him like Celestia would upon the day of his death.

But how you looked on at him was not in judgement, but affection. "And when I met you at the altar, I did. I truly did."

He was so swayed by your words, so caught up in your devotion, that though he knew he was undeserving, he leaned down and connected your lips with his once again; his large hands warmed you where they caressed your cheek and the side of your neck, his lips thawing your frozen ones. The flavor of you was intoxicating, but as much as he wanted to prolong this moment, your icy skin pushed him to get you inside immediately.

So he drew back, drawing the most angelic whine of protest from your lips. It made him grin in pride.

"Let's warm you up, huh?"

Though you wanted to stay in the privacy of this isolated garden, continue to live in this moment that only existed for the two of you, you couldn't deny how you shivered and your stomach growled. It was time for your reception, and you couldn't keep your guests waiting.

So you, albeit reluctantly, let Ajax pull you up into his arms and throw his cloak around the both of you before taking you back to the church where he married you, now entering sharing one heart, one life, one love. Forever.

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wileys-russo · 5 months

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elf on a shelf II a.russo & l.williamson x reader

lil christmas fic number two! psa; just because i write this does not mean i ship them irl elf on a shelf II a.russo & l.williamson x reader

"woah! someone's speedy today, what's wrong then? where's the missus's?" katie was quick to snag you as you stormed into the dressing room, throwing your bag down with a scowl.

"if they've half a brain between them as far away from me as they can get!" you warned, shrugging off your friends arm and dropping down by your cubby to change into your boots.

having driven yourself this morning after a particularly nasty row with the blondes who shared your heart you'd stormed out of the house without a single look back, shocked you'd not copped a speeding ticket with how heavy your foot fell on the accelerator, determined to get as far away from the two girls as possible.

"oi! none of that pissy little attitude with me thanks. tell us what happened then." katie warned lightly, sitting down beside you and knocking her knee against yours as you sighed and dragged your hands down your face, starting to recount where it had all started.

if you were to know just how far things were going to go, you'd have never ever even considered getting that stupid little elf.

everything had been laid into motion last week when you'd seen a few tiktoks of adorable elf on the shelf ideas. never having really given them much consideration before you had thought it might be an opportunity for some cute christmas cheer around the house.

not that it needed much more. between you, alessia and leah all three of you had decorated your shared home extensively for the holiday season.

as you had prepared for there was the usual arguments around the tree, the worst of them being who got to choose the theme and who got to place the angel of the north of course, on top.

"what on earth is that babe?" leah had scoffed as you'd dropped it happily on the coffee table with a grin. "oo one of those elf things!" alessia had gasped happily, grabbing your hips and tugging you down onto the sofa with her.

"well its not a fucking reindeer less." leah chuckled earning herself a filthy look from the striker as you kissed her cheek with an amused smile.

"you're supposed to move them around the house and pose them to look like they're doing weird and funny stuff. it's mostly parents who do them for kids but i thought it could be cute for the three of us to take turns." you tossed your phone to leah who scrolled through a few videos with a hum.

"i think it's a great idea baby." alessia agreed, squeezing you tightly in approval. "guess it's not the worst idea you've had." leah shrugged as you kicked her ankle gently.

"sorry, it's a cute idea love. you start tonight, then less, then me." leah smiled apologetically, scooting closer and handing you back your phone, the three of you getting comfortable.

how naive you were not to know just how far things would go.

your first turn started off harmlessly, once your girlfriends had gone up to bed you spread some flour out on the counter, creating a snow angel and leaving the elf spread out in the middle, snapping a picture with a happy grin.

"oh that's so cute baby!" alessia was the first to notice it the next morning, snapping a picture and uploading it to her instagram story with a smile.

it took leah a little longer, never the most observant woman in the mornings but once she'd had a coffee she'd chuckled at the elf, wiping down the flour before the three of you needed to leave for training.

your suspicions should have peaked when you noticed kyra and vic hanging around alessia all day, seemingly always in her ear as she would nod and note something down in her phone with a grin.

her first turn the next night again was harmless, you waking up to find the elf in the fridge sat on top of a carton of eggs with a sharpie in its arms. the eggs with funny faces drawn all over them you let out a laugh which warmed the blonde's heart as she hugged you from behind.

"naughty naughty elf." she'd tutted in your ear, kissing your cheek and reaching past you to grab out a carton of juice. "really?" was leah's response once she'd spotted it, raising an eyebrow at the younger girl who shrugged.

"he must have gotten bored." alessia grinned sipping at her coffee. "yeah babe, maybe he just wanted the eggs to look their very best on their death day!" you added on, chopping up some peppers to make omelettes.

"death day? touch dark there gorgeous." alessia laughed, rinsing her mug in the sink and tapping your bum as she passed you with a wink. "the two of you are something else, why do i put up with it?" leah sighed dramatically, closing the fridge.

"think you mean why do we put up with you!" you teased, her body pressing against yours and nipping at your bottom lip before she placed a tender kiss against them. "hilarious my girl, hilarious."

for leah's turn she was a little more stumped than the two of you had been, having to do some extensive research to try and find some ideas she felt were achievable.

you'd woken up the next morning to find the elf sat on the bathroom counter with a tube of toothpaste in his hands, UTA spelled out in toothpaste on the marble top.

taking a photo and sending it in the teams group chat you rolled your eyes with an amused smile and hopped into the shower, leaving it for one of your girlfriends to clean up considering both of them were refusing to get up.

your next turn meant you'd filled up the kitchen sink with water, dropping in a bunch of goldfish crackers and propping the elf on the tap with a straw to look like he'd gone fishing.

that had gone over well with both your girls and ended up on leahs story, though having to fish out the soggy crackers from the sink had left you gagging and reconsidering the idea all together.

for alessia's she'd poked holes in a piece of toast, sticking the elf's arms and legs through and leaving it sat by the toaster with a little note stating 'it's cold outside...but i am toasty in here ;) '.

you'd found it adorable, leah less so. which had meant you'd spent the entire morning of your day off fussing over the striker who was grumpy with leah for her response, and then in turn you'd spent the afternoon placating a moody leah who'd felt ignored all day.

by dinner time they'd settled down and made up again and the three of you were curled up on the lounge eating pizza, seemingly a normal evening. until leah had to of course open her mouth and set forth the ball rolling which would eventually lead to a series of unfortunate events.

"why don't we make this elf business a bit more interesting?" the eldest between the three of you had challenged with a smug smile. "how so?" alessia raised an eyebrow, your legs draped across her lap as your top half was tucked into leah's side.

"no more posting photos. end of each rotation we show the girls and they choose whose was the best? most successful choices by the end of the month wins." leah challenged with a smirk.

"no! come on it's just supposed to be something cute for the three of us." you'd protested but it was no use. "you're on." alessia agreed with a smirk that matched leah's causing you to exhale deeply.

"why does everything have to be a competition with the two of you?"

things escalated after that to say the least. with you not wanting to compete you'd been cut from the roster all together, leah and alessia now just going night for night, too absorbed in their competitive natures to notice that it had upset you to see it turn into this.

throughout the week though the elf seemed to take on a little more of a personal vendetta against your girlfriends, the pranks going from harmless and cute to targeted.

alessia had started it by wrapping all of leah's trainers in foil and leaving the elf on top of them with a sign that said 'free shoe shining service'.

leah had countered by tying all of alessia's hoodies together tightly and stringing them from upstairs down to the christmas tree, sitting the elf on top with a candy cane as if he was sliding down them.

still alessia had won that round which leah was not impressed with. you on the other hand barely even paid their turns much attention, refusing to give them any sort of praise of acknowledgement beyond a hum or a nod, not that your vote counted for anything anyway.

it was taken up a notch when alessia had frozen leah's house keys in a block of ice overnight, sitting the elf on top with a makeshift scarf wrapped around him and a pair of tweezers in hand like a small ice pick.

that earned her an entire day of stony silence from the defender, meaning you were instead pulled back and forth between them both after your attention since they weren't receiving any from one another.

leah had once again stepped it up, laying out a bunch of alessia's makeup on the counter, smashing up an eyeshadow pallete and highlighter stick, and writing 'elf was here 2023' on the mirror in her favourite shade of lipstick. the elf in question was sprawled out on the counter with an empty bottle of wine and smeared makeup all over his face.

"leah catherine williamson!"

you'd shot up awake hearing alessia yell, rubbing your eyes and reaching around you, frowning when both sides of the bed were cold and empty. "oh what now." you mumbled tiredly at the noise of the bickering carrying from the bathroom.

"leah most of this stuff is fucking expensive you stupid idiot!" alessia seethed, gesturing wildly to the remnants of what was once her makeup on the counter. "babe i'll just buy you more, you're overreacting." leah rolled her eyes dismissively.

"no you've taken it too far! you fucking ignorant selfish moronic-" alessia struggled to think of her next words as you entered the room. "hey, lessi baby breathe." you gripped her bicep with a concerned frown, steam practically pouring out of the blondes ears.

"oh of course you take her side!" leah scoffed with a roll of her eyes as you fixed her with a stern look. "why wouldn't she? you're the one in the wrong!" alessia spat, wrapping you in a bone crushing hug and pulling your shorter body into hers possessively.

"it's a joke less! lighten up and grow a funny bone would you?" leah laughed, only fueling alessia's anger further as you quickly grabbed her face before she could explode, murmuring it wasn't worth it as the striker huffed and let go of you, storming out of the room.

"leah." you started with a disappointed sigh, crossing your arms over your chest and staring her down. "what?" the older girl rolled her eyes sitting on the edge of the bath.

"she's right lee that's too far. none of these have damaged anything." you reminded her. "she froze my keys!" leah whined with a glare. "your house keys babe, we have two extra sets. what would you do if instead of wrapping your trainers in foil she cut them up?" you challenged with a sigh, standing in between her spread legs.

"that's different! trainers are-" "expensive? but can't less just buy you more." "yeah alright you might have a point."

"clean this up and go and say sorry, sincerely. and if she doesn't want to talk to you then give her some space and apologize later." you grabbed the blondes chin, pecking her lips before leaving her behind to clean up her mess.

indeed alessia hadn't wanted to speak with leah but after a few hours of sweet words and grovelling, all seemed to be forgiven.

key emphasis on; seemed to be.

that next morning you'd woken up to yelling again, only this time the roles were reversed.

"alessia mia teresa russo you come here right now!"

"what did you do?" you shot up awake again same as yesterday, thsi time staring down at the smug looking blonde who was laid in bed beside you.

"i didn't do anything, maybe the elf was feeling naughty again." she'd mumbled with a smirk as you pinched the bridge of your nose and inhaled sharply. "alessia. what. did. you. do?" you asked firmly, poking her chest with each word.

but you didn't have a chance to hear her answer as footsteps pounded upstairs and leah flew into the room, not another word said as she grabbed your hands hauling you up and out of bed.

"leah! put me down!" you yelled in shock as suddenly you were flung over her shoulder, watching alessia sit up in bed as you were carried out of the room and downstairs, dumped suddenly on the sofa.

"look what she's done!" leah spat, pointing to a pile of clothing on the coffee table, the elf sat on a tissue box with a pair of scissors. "lee. baby i just woke up, please stop yelling at me." you sighed, closing your eyes and massaging your temples.

"look!" leah huffed, ignoring you completely as she held up shirt after shirt, all with sporadic holes cut throughout them. "oh for fuck sakes. alessia!" you called upstairs, leah continuing on her angry rant without even pausing to take a breath.

"good morning!" the younger blonde smiled happily, slinking downstairs as leah fell silent. "you've ruined half my wardrobe alessia!" she spat, lunging for the blonde as you hastily leapt up and grabbed the back of her hoodie.

"i didn't do anything, the culprits got the scissors right there." alessia shrugged pointing to the elf. "i will stab you with those scissors!" leah spat angrily as you shoved her to sit down in your previous position. "you! kitchen, now." you warned alessia pointing in the other direction as she rolled her eyes but left anyway.

"my love. deep breaths with me please, in for five and out." you started, sitting down on the blondes lap who did as you asked, calming down a little.

"i will take you both shopping this afternoon and less will buy you some new tops, and you'll replace less's makeup." you gave her a firm look as she opened her mouth to protest, eyebrows furrowing together angrily.

"fine. but i'm not sitting in a fucking car with her this morning and i'm not talking to her until she apologizes. just like i had to yesterday!" leah warned as you nodded in understanding, pecking her lips and standing up allowing her to storm off upstairs.

"alessia." you started with a sigh as you appeared in the kitchen, your other girlfriend leaning against the counter looking through her phone. "what?" she mumbled sourly, lips forming a pout.

"don't give me that, you know you went too far." you warned, pulling yourself to sit up on the island. "she started it!" the blonde moved to wiggle inbetween your legs, wrapping her arms around your torso and resting her head on your chest.

"you both started it when you agreed to make what was supposed to be a cute new tradition, into a competition!" you carded a hand through her hair with a deep sigh.

"we're going shopping after training love. you're going to buy leah new shirts and she's going to replace your makeup." you stated, a stern glare silencing the strikers protests as she nodded. both of you winced as suddenly the front door slammed close, leah's car starting in the driveway.

"you can start with an apology though lessi."

things once again seemed to calm after that, both girls ignoring the small elf for a further three days and you breathed a little easier enjoying the extra attention it meant you got from them instead.

but of course one kyra cooney cross had to open her mouth complaining about the lack of elf content with several of the girls backing her up, and you could have wrung their necks then and there, leah and alessia sharing a look across the dressing room which made your stomach lurch.

your warning them against it fell on deaf ears, their anger at one another for the mistakes of the past evaporating as they spent the afternoon teasing one another for who would win, leah having borrowed an elf off beth without your knowledge.

"thats it! i am over this. both of you leave me alone until you go to bed and i can get some peace and quiet!" you snapped as they started to go back and forth over the top of your head, shoving both of them off of you and storming to the spare bedroom.

you busied yourself with your studies for the rest of the evening, having taken a break over the holiday period considering your course was self paced.

but needing something to keep your mind off things you sprawled across the bed reading your text books, ignoring both your girlfriends attempts to coax you back out to spend time with them, the door firmly locked with the key in your pocket.

eventually having to give into how much you missed them, you snapped your books shut and padded to the bedroom. "baby!" alessia perked up at the sight of you, opening her arms expectantly as leah gave you a tired smile.

"you're both so annoying sometimes." you mumbled as you crawled into bed between them, settling into alessia's arms as leahs face tucked into your neck. "we're sorry gorgeous, we love you very very much." alessia whispered, kissing your cheek gently as leahs hand snaked up your top.

your breath hitched feeling her cold fingers trace shapes on your bare chest as alessia caught on, her lips settling on your neck as leah pushed herself up and hovered over you with a wolfish grin, suddenly wide awake.

"how about we make it up to you then baby girl?"

waking up that next morning you smiled seeing finally both of your girlfriends were in bed with you. no yelling, no arguing, no naughty little elf related disasters.

oh how wrong you were.

ignoring their half asleep grumbles for you to stay you wrenched yourself out of leah's tight hold, kissing both of their foreheads and slipping out of bed to make all three of you breakfast before training.

except you didn't make it to the kitchen.

this time it was leah and alessia who woke up to yelling, though this time when it was a cry of pain they both scrambled out of bed, tripping over one another in their haste to get to you.

"baby?" "love?"

you groaned in pain at the bottom of the stairs, leah hastily grabbing the back of alessia's shirt to stop her following in your footsteps.

"leah!" the striker gasped with wide eyes, the stairs covered with mountains of toilet paper supposed to look like snow which is what had caused you to slip down them.

"alessia!" leah echoed in the same tone, eyes falling to the kitchen where a thin layer of flour covered the entire room head to toe. but hearing you groan both of them snapped out of it, carefully making their way down as fast as they could toward you.

"do not touch me!" you warned as they reached you, the scarily calm tone of your voice causing them both to recoil as you gradually got to your feet. "baby we didn't-" alessia's words fell short as you held up a hand.

"not a word, from either of you." you whispered, anger on the brink of boiling point as you turned on your heel, slightly limping as you headed for the kitchen, none the wiser of what was to greet you as all you wanted was an ice pack for where you'd landed right on your ass.

"oh this is going to be ugly." leah mumbled, grabbing alessia's hand as you rounded the corner and your eyes landed on the kitchen.

"my love we-" again their words fell short as you held up a hand, back faced toward them as you leant forward, sagging against the counter as your hands gripped the marble with white knuckles.

a thick uncomfortable silence formed, both alessia and leah sharing a terrified look as you slowly turned, a murderous look in your eyes.

it was safe to say the words that followed were not PG13, both of your lovers remaining deadly silent as you ranted and raged at them, storming upstairs and changing in the blink of an eye, door slamming after you as they both cringed and hurried off to clean up and get themselves ready.

which is what brought you back to present time, sat beside katie as you finished recounting the mornings events to her. "fuck, well that explains it. incoming!" the irishwoman nodded toward the door where your girlfriends had entered.

alessia tried to approach you first as katie mumbled her a good luck and darted away after caitlin, however the piercing glare and stony silence she received were enough to send her right back to leah.

the older blonde was next, taking a much bolder approach as you felt her sit down beside you as you were hunched over tying up your laces. "baby girl." she started sweetly, wincing as your head shot up and your eyes slit into a glare, the name which normally had you swooning having no effect whatsover.

"both of you need to stay away from me. do not talk to me, look at me, breathe near me for the entire day." you warned the defender before stomping out of the change rooms, a few of the other girls gravitating toward her to question what had happened.

true to your wishes both girls steered clear of you, though that didn't stop you feeling their eyes on you throughout the day. they'd hoped to catch you maybe in a better mood once training was done but you'd already left, not bothering to shower but rather leaving as soon as you could, the first one gone for the day.

when they came home it was to no surprise you were once again locked in the spare room, a stony silence meeting them as they knocked gently, leaving you be for a few hours and hoping with time you might come to them.

when that didn't happen, they knocked heads together to come up with an alternative plan.

which is what lead to yet another round of knocks on the door, your head turning to look at it with a roll of your eyes, tucked up and watching a movie quite comfortably. but thats not to say you wouldn't be more comfortable with your blondes either side of you.

"baby. please open the door and let us apologize face to face." alessia begged softly. "please love, we really miss you and we want to make things right." lead added on quietly, a soft thump sounding as her forehead rested against the door.

with a sigh you paused your movie, getting up to unlock the door, not opening it as you settled back into bed and your girlfriends took that as a green light as they pushed it open slowly and stepped inside.

you refused to look either one of them in the eye as they sat on the edge of the bed, giving you a healthy amount of space not wanting to overstep your boundaries. "we are so incredibly sorry gorgeous." alessia started softly. "very very very sorry." leah nodded enthusiastically.

"for?" you questioned, still not meeting their eyes. you didn't miss the way alessia elbowed leah, the girl clearing her throat for a moment.

"for turning something that was supposed to be fun and light hearted into a competition, and getting carried away with that competition and being immature, selfish numpties." leah recounted, the tone in which she used making it clear it had been rehearsed as you tried to keep the smile off your face.

"if you come downstairs with us please babe we have a surprise." alessia asked hopefully. "please." leah added on as you finally met their eyes and nodded, still remaining quiet but standing up to follow them regardless.

"what-" you started as leahs hands came to cover over your eyes and alessia steadied you, grabbing your hands and guiding you downstairs. "just go with it." leah encouraged as you sighed but nodded none the less allowing them to guide you.

"ta-da!" you blinked a few times as your eyes adjusted to the light, but once you did your hand moved to cover your mouth.

before you was a pillow fort they'd both clearly put some time and effort into building, spare duvets and cushions littering the tee-pee like space. one of the elves was sat on top of a pile of pizza boxes and snacks, holding a sign that said he was very sorry for misbehaving.

the other was taped to a spoon which was dunked into a mug of hot chocolate, next to him was a sign that read 'it was all his fault but i took care of him' and an arrow pointing toward him.

"they wanted to say they were sorry as well." alessia grinned, leah taking her chances and wrapping her arms round your waist, her chin settling on your shoulder and body relaxing when you didn't pull away or push her off.

"we are also very sorry baby, very very sorry." leah murmured as alessia hugged you, effectively sandwiching your body between them as you sighed. "you're both forgiven. but those elves are finding new homes and they are not welcome back!" you warned, all three of you pausing before laughter broke out.

"we've got christmas movies, lots of pillows and blankets, snacks, pizza, cuddles, kisses and even got a pint of your favourite ice cream from that little place down the road." leah recounted as alessia took your hand and guided you down into the little fort.

"the peanut butter choc chip one?" you perked up at that as the strikers face paled. "you told me her favorite was the rocky road!" leah groaned glaring at alessia who shrank into herself with a sheepish smile.

"less that's your favourite flavor!" you cracked a grin, smacking her thigh playfully as leah shoved her head to the side. "you still like it though, you always steal mine when we go babe." the striker pouted, pulling your body to sit between her legs as she leaned into leah's side.

"merry almost christmas, my pretty girls." leah smiled lovingly, hand resting on the back of alessia's neck and pulling her into a kiss, leaning down to press her lips against yours next, alessia following suit, pulling away and kissing your nose causing you to scrunch it up adorably.

"i love you both very much, even if you drive me to the brink of insanity sometimes." you craned your head up to look at them, tapping your lips again with a cheeky smile as both of them took turns giving you what you wanted.

it was safe to say after that you were not surprised to see the next day both elves on katie's instagram story, wasting no time texting caitlin a firm warning about their misbehavior.

as well as a strict reminder they were not welcome back into your home, not even for a visit.

#alessia russo x reader #leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #woso blurbs #alessia russo #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso community #leah williamson #engwnt #woso

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 4 months

Text

Blue Christmas

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Summary: You're feeling down with the holidays coming, missing your rockstar boyfriend, so your friends plan a trip to a cabin with a little surprise to cheer you up.

18+ Only

"Y/N, come on! Sing along!" Robin whined from the back seat.

You groaned, rolling your eyes at her. You appreciated your friends' attempt to cheer you up but it wasn't working. Nothing was going to make this Christmas feel joyful or triumphant. The one person you wanted to be spending Christmas with was halfway across the country and you didn't know when you were going to see him again.

"We're on our way to a beautiful cabin in the woods for a friendsmas like no other!" Steve whooped from the driver's seat. "A whole weekend of fun, drinking, and me! What more could you possibly ask for?"

You couldn't help but laugh, "Yeah, I mean, if I have you Steve, then what more could I possibly need?"

Eddie. You needed Eddie, but he was currently on tour so you couldn't have him. Corroded Coffin had become an overnight sensation and you were beyond thrilled for him and the guys. But they'd been gone for two months. Two months where the closest you got to having your boyfriend was a phone call. He tried to call every day and you appreciated it but you also knew he was crazy busy. The newfound stardom had caused a whirl of insanity from talk shows to press releases to photo shoots to radio interviews. He was constantly on the go and lately the calls and been shorter and farther and fewer between.

You didn't want to think it, but you couldn't help that nagging in the back of your brain. Those doubts that began to creep in like insects burrowing under your skin. Was he going to find someone else? He was constantly surrounded by beautiful women these days, models and other musicians and actresses. How would he not be tempted? You glanced down at yourself, your leggings and sweater dress and knew you couldn't compete. Maybe he saw you as special when his options were limited to Hawkins but a buffet of buxom had just been opened for him and he was quickly becoming the most wanted man in the world. You could compete with Hawkins girls but you had no shot with L.A. girls.

"Hey, stop that," Robin chided, slapping the back of your head. "Get out of there. No going down that path that leads to nothing but misery. This is not a pity party. This is a Christmas party and we are going to have fun. You are going to smile and laugh and have a good time and you are going to padlock those thoughts away where they belong."

You nodded, turning to look out the window at the snow covered landscape. Robin and Steve were your best friends. You had shared all of your doubts and fears with them about Eddie getting bored with you or deciding he didn't want to be tied down when he had the world at his feet. They consistently assured you that wasn't the case, that Eddie loved you, that you two were endgame. You appreciated their support and their positivity so much but you just weren't sure anymore.

"Here we are!" Steve called, pulling up to the most beautiful cabin you'd ever seen.

Cabin? This was like a manor made of logs. What cabin had two stories with a full porch that wrapped around to a deck? And was that a hot tub on the deck? Floor to ceiling glass windows covered the front, which would give you a beautiful view of the winter woods but, Jesus, this place as to cost a small fortune.

"Umm...how exactly are we affording this place?" you questioned.

"Oh, well everybody pitched in," Steve offered, shrugging. "Argyle, Jonathan, and Nancy are driving up later. Between all of us, it actually wasn't too bad." He hopped out of the car and ran around to the back, pulling out your bag. "How about you head in and check it out? You can look around and get all holly and jolly. Get in a positive head space while Robin and I handle getting the rest of the stuff inside."

"Okay..." you said slowly, taking your bag. Why was he being weird? You walked to the cabin and up the steps, pausing when you heard the car start up. You turned to see Steve and Robin waving at you and smiling as they pulled away. "Hey! What the hell? Where are you guys going?"

Seriously? What were they playing at? Did they think this was funny because you definitely weren't laughing. Ugh. Whatever. Groaning, you pushed open the door to the cabin and stepped inside. You had no idea what those two were doing but you'd be damned if you were going to stand outside waiting for their punch line.

Your eyes roamed the cabin as you set your bag down and unbuttoned your coat, hanging it on one of the hooks by the door. There was a Christmas tree already set up and decorated in the corner and a fire roaring in the fireplace. You wondered if the owners had done that. If so, it was a nice touch. Possibly a bit hazardous to leave a fire going with no one there but nice. There were cozy blankets draped on the couch and a lush, shag rug right in front of a beautiful stone fireplace.

You moved to the window to see if Steve and Robin had returned, ending whatever silly game they were playing. Moving the curtains back, you admired the view. Trees coated in sparkling white snow, large rolling hills in the background. Steve had mentioned possibly skiing this weekend.

"Well, at least it's a beautiful view," you muttered.

"Actually, I would say this view in stunning."

Your breath caught in your throat as that voice reached your ears, flowing over your body like the sun's rays after a long winter. Turning, you gasped, tears pooling in your eyes at the most beautiful sight you had seen in months.

There stood Eddie, your perfect Eddie. He looked just like your Eddie, not the Eddie that was plastered over the cover of magazines or sitting on the Today show. He wasn't decked out in designer clothes. His face wasn't covered in make-up to ensure he looked lively under fluorescent lighting. He wore his usual jeans and a long-sleeve blue shirt. Those mahogany waves you loved so much were gloriously chaotic, not perfectly coiffed. He was everything, everything you'd been dreaming about for two months, standing there in front of you.

"Baby?" he asked softly, tilting his head slightly, concerned that you hadn't said anything. "Are you happy to see me?"

Your response was to throw yourself against him, your lips smashing into his, hands tangling in his hair. A rumble of satisfaction rolled from his chest, his arms wrapping around you, crushing your body against his. Jesus, you missed him. You had a savage need to feel every single inch of him, to have him as close to you as humanly possible.

Your hands found the hem of his shirt, grabbing it and pulling it over his head. You threw it across the room, your eyes soaking in each of his tattoos, those images you knew so well. You pressed your lips to his neck, your hands running along his chest and stomach that were much more firm than they had been the last time you'd had him shirtless in front of you. Celebrity came with expectation of a certain body image and you knew his manager had him hooked up with a personal trainer.

You pressed kisses along his chest, tracing your tongue over each tattoo there, smiling when you felt him shudder under your hands. His hand cradled the back of your head as you moved further down, lips pressing against the flesh of his belly, the soft hair that trailed into his jeans, leading you exactly where you wanted to go.

Your fingers quickly undid the button on his jeans, slid his zipper down and pushed his pants and boxers down to his knees. You kissed a path along his groin, that lovely spot where his hips and pelvis met.

"Holy shit baby. This is a hell of a hello," he murmured, fingers tangled in your hair as your lips wrapped around him, pulling the length of him into your mouth. "Fuck. I missed your mouth so goddamn much."

You ranked your nails gently along his thighs as you moved your mouth along him. Your tongue slid along the underside, following the vein there and then swirled around the tip. The grip on your hair tightened as his hips rocked forward, plunging him deeper into your throat.

"Fuck princess..."

Smiling at how easily you could get a reaction out of him, you slid him from your mouth, taking his length in your hand. You began working your hand along him as you ran your tongue over his balls. Gently, you took one in your mouth, sucking just hard enough to make him scream out your name. Switching, you worked his balls with your hand, tenderly rolling them and pulling on them. Your tongue swirled around the base of his cock, working your way to the tip before taking him into your mouth again.

Suddenly, he gripped your shoulders, lifting you from the floor and into his arms. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he moved you to the shag rug, laying you back on it.

"I have waited too damn long to just come in your mouth," he growled, his lips now devouring your flesh. He yanked your shirt off, undoing your bra and tossing both. "Goddamn." His mouth descended upon your chest, pulling your nipple between his teeth until you shrieked with pleasure. His tongue rolled over the other nipple as his hands pulled at your leggings. Breaking away, he ripped them the rest of the way off. His hands moved to your knees, pushing them apart as he gazed down at you. "I have dreamed of this pussy every single day for the last two months."

"Eddie!" you screamed as he dove forward, his tongue sliding between your folds, licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit. Your hips rolled toward him, your hands gripping the shag rug tightly. Fuck, Eddie was so enthusiastic when it came to pleasuring you and he always succeeded. "Jesus baby...oh my god..."

Your eyes rolled back, waves of pleasure gently creating over you, promising the large crash at the end. Eddie slid a finger inside of you, exploring your walls until you almost came off of the bed with a screech.

"There is it," he murmured, pleased with himself, continuing to press along the sensitive flesh within as his tongue worked your clit. He was a fucking master with his tongue, circling and then working shapes around the edges just as you thought you couldn't take it, somehow knowing you needed less pressure.

"Fuck...oh...baby, I can't...oh shit!"

"Oh, yes you can," he replied, his tongue flicking quickly along your clit, "I can feel it, princess. Come on. I've been waiting far too long for this."

Your stomach knotted, your toes pointing as every single muscle tensed in your body. Your body lurched, hands slamming into the floor before gripping the rug again for dear life. That crashing wave was about to roll over you. Eddie's fingers continued to move, each time hitting that delicious spot that simply undid you. His tongue was not letting up, knowing you were close, pushing you over the edge.

"Fuck me!" you screamed, your body shuddering violently up off the floor. Eddie's free hand rested on your belly, gently pressing you back down as he continued to pleasure you gently through the waves of pleasure that coursed through your body.

"I mean, if you insist," he said with a smile, sliding his fingers from you and before you could even completely come down from your high, his cock had replaced them, your body welcoming him home, finally right where he belonged. "Oh fuck baby. You feel so damn good. Yes, I've missed you so fucking much."

"I've missed you," you groaned, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him close. "God, I've missed you."

Eddie's arms wound underneath you, his forehead pressing against yours as he moved his hips, his cock filling you completely. It filled not just your body but your very soul. Being this close to him was replenishing everything that had diminished in his absence. All doubts and fears flew from your mind at the perfection that was the two of you becoming one, your bodies interconnecting like perfect puzzle pieces.

"Baby, you're so perfect," he breathed, his breath gently tickling your skin. "You have no idea how much it kills me to be away from you."

Your hands held his face, gazing into his eyes as your hips met each thrust, your legs wrapped around him, pulling him even deeper. Brown eyes...people compared brown eyes to so many normal, every day things but his were anything but. His eyes were the color of sweet melted chocolate, a warm cup of soothing tea when your soul was aching, the color of the earth that brought life after a long, hard winter. These were the eyes that you wanted to gaze into for the rest of your life.

"Me too," you whispered, your head swimming in the lust and love you had for this man. "I hate it."

"Oh baby, I'm gonna..." he groaned and then his whole body jerked forward, stilling, his eyes closed as you felt his climax filling you completely. He lifted his head, his forearms framing your hand, and held your face in his hands. "I love you. I don't want to be away from you anymore. I can't do it. It's too hard."

"Baby, I hate it too. It's the hardest thing I've ever had to do," you said, smiling. "But you have to. As much as I hate it, I know you have to do it. The tour and everything, this is amazing for you and the guys."

"So come with me," he said. "Princess, I can't say goodbye to you again. I won't do it. I fucking hate it. It's so damn hard. This is my Christmas gift to you. I want you to come on tour with me. I know we talked about it and it didn't seem right but being apart isn't right. I know it's a crazy life, but it would be our life. All of this success just feels like bullshit without you with me."

You paused, looking upon the face that you loved so much. Yeah, you'd be leaving everything you knew behind but everything you wanted was right here. Did any of it matter without him? Could you do it?

"Yes," you replied without hesitation. "Yes. I don't want to go one more day without these eyes in my life."

"Yes?" he asked, grinning wide and then he started laughing, pulling you against him and pressing his lips to yours. "Yes! This is the best Christmas gift ever. Seriously baby. You and me, forever."

"Forever," you repeated, pushing those messy locks behind his ears. Yeah, forever with this man sounded like pure heaven.

#eddie munson #eddie the banished #stranger things eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x femreader #eddie munson christmas #christmas smut

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updatingranboo · 9 months

Text

ranboo tweet... uh

["This was such a good joke and I am appalled by the fact that it has not gone absolutely bonkers viral. I mean is comedy dead? I just dont understand how a regular human being can read the word "Greans" (A combination of green and jeans) followed by an image of, well, green jeans, and not absolutely evacuate themselves in laughter.

I believe this has something to do with the fact that comedy as we know it is dying. It has become too mainstream in todays media and that is the main problem. Gone are the days where silly little guys in their silly little hop hats are able to go "knock knock" and absolutely change the world. Nowadays you have to have so many things that go into a joke for it to remotely even be funny, setup, punchline the whole ordeal. Whatever happened to just a simple Practicality joke? Whatever happened to just being able to slap someone and be the headlining act?

The world is so full of so called "comedians" these days it makes me sick. All these people do is spend hours writing and practicing their act in order to try and sway an audience to have a good time listening to their words. For SHAME! Comedy used to be just two people on a stage just slapping eachother and going "knock knock" for twenty hours. Whatever happened to the good ol days where people just laughed at whatever someone said because their brain hadnt fully developed?

This is why I believe that I am going to start performing my comedy acts to a bunch of babies. An absolute hoard of newborns. I will make my jokes to them and they will laugh for they truly understand what humor should be. I will go to a hospital in that little room they have where it is very easy to switch said babies and cause a bit of a ruckus, but instead of doing that (very funny joke) I will simply perform for them and relish in their cheers and guffaws.

It is sad that one has to turn to performing to just babies in order for the world to understand the complexity of ones said humor, but alas if its what I must do its what I must do. Maybe one day we will revert back to absolute comedy anarchy, where the chicken has not yet crossed the road, but until then I will continue to strive and push forward in this dark age of comedy.

Maybe a complete reset of what we find funny is in order, maybe we have lost what humor once was for us. We obviously have considering my VERY FUNNY TWEET does not have a bazillion likes and has not spun off at least 30 million movie deals. (Please note that this joke is satire, and Ranboo stands in solidarity with the SAG-AFTRA strikes. Support actors and writers. -A message from Ranboo)

I spent time and effort making this tweet, I saw the green jeans in front of my eyes (which are very squishy) and my neurons fired and made this absolute gem of a joke. I was excited to share it with the world, I tweeted it nearly right after I saw it, excited to see what new adventures this tweet could bring me. I went to bed all cozy smiling like a child on christmas eve night, excited for the morning. When I woke I turned to check my phone instantly, my eyes racing to see the like total. What would it be? 500k? A million? I was surprised that my dms hadnt blown up with a personal message from every billionaire going "let me give you all of my money I can never make anything as good as your "Greans" tweet" but It must have been a glitch.

I was appalled to see that my tweet had only 30K??? 30K for the pinnacle of all of human achievement? A slap in the face of innovation is what it felt like. Like when that thomas edison guy ate a stolen lightbulb or something idk what he did really but I remember the person who made that lightbulb which he ate probably felt really sad and I felt really sad so I felt a deep connection with that person.

I quickly fell into a great depression, this is what all of my life had lead up to: one sad tweet. I didnt see the outside for years because of this tweet. I thought to myself "why would they do this?", "Isnt humanity supposed to be kind, supportive, and have a sense of humor when it comes to differently colored jean jokes?" (dcjj as I call them), and "Man I should probably have a burger" (I did) (very yummy) but as I ate my burger all I could taste were my TEARS as I chomped into it from the top down. It felt like I couldnt do anything right. Until thats when it hit me.

Im not the problem, EVERYONE ELSE IS! My humor isnt "bad" or "unfunny" or "makes me want to find a microwave and cause it to malfunction so I either become the hulk or die" (Please do not try this. -Another Ranboo message) It has to be that simply I am so far ahead in the world when it comes to comedy that my time has simply just not yet come! My jokes will be funny to a different generation, which will be frowned upon at first but I will quickly be welcomed with open arms, and told that I am an innovator, a true scholar of all that is funny.

And so I wait for that day. I wait for the day that people look back on my Greans tweet and realize, that without a doubt that it is the funniest thing that they have ever seen. The problem is not with my joke, the problem is with the world, and thats what makes humanity beautiful, is that it evolves, it changes, it doesnt stick to its mindset that a tweet that has the word "Greans" followed by a pair of green jeans doesnt get a BAZILLION LIKES! I wait for that day, and for those of you who are with me, I hope you wait patiently as well. Stay strong."]

#this is how i found out tumblr has a character limit per block #well. have fun reading #i sure did #ranboo #ranboo update #twitter update #ranboosaysstuff tweet

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bella-rose29 · 4 months

Text

Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - part 4

Christmas Eve, and the day of the party.

once again I maintain the idea that lockwood has his tea as a Cameron special (for absolutely no reason, they've just merged into one being in my mind)

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: swearing, family members being mean, lockwood never put his pyjamas back on, I should mention now that they're 18 for plot and ethical reasons, mentions of body image issues, innuendos?

series master list

(image credit to @sxnflowersa_tv on pinterest)

When Y/n woke up the next morning, her first thought was that she was cold.

Her second was that she was in a double bed and not her usual tiny single in Portland Row, and the third was panic at seeing her boss shirtless.

Lockwood's blanket had slipped at some point in the night, and so when she sat up and stretched she was met with the sight of him sleeping soundly in the armchair, his pyjamas folded neatly on the small table next to him. How he wasn't freezing to death she wasn't sure, but then Lockwood had never made sense to her. One minute he was all smiles and charm and then the next he was saying something completely opposite into her ear, and she was left to figure out which version was the real Lockwood.

Today would be difficult, and they had to come to some sort of understanding if they were going to survive the hell that they would soon be entering.

Lockwood didn't look comfortable at all, with his neck at an odd angle and his legs curled up underneath him (he was bound to get pins and needles when he woke up), and Y/n felt the smallest pang of pity before a knock sounded on the bedroom door.

"Are you two awake?" Her mother questioned, likely wanting to know if they wanted tea. Y/n clambered out of bed and leaned against the door.

"Uh, I am," she whispered. "Lock- Anthony's still asleep."

"Right, well do you think he'll want a cup of tea? I'm heading down to make a pot now."

"Oh, yeah. He has it weird though, with sugar and honey."

"I'll pop those on the tray, then, and he can put in what he wants."

"Thanks Mum." She heard her mother shuffle and head down the stairs, knees clicking as she went, and turned back to look at her fake boyfriend. "Fuck," she said, a horrible realisation dawning on her. Lockwood couldn't be in the armchair when her mother brought in the tea, or she'd wonder if they'd had an argument. Walking over, she gave his arm a quick prod.

No response.

She tried again, harder this time, and when he stirred a little she cheered internally. "Lockwood?" she whisper-shouted, giving him a proper shove.

"What? What is it?" He was bolt upright almost immediately, scanning for any signs of danger and reaching for Y/n. "Is everything alright?"

"Uh... yes," she said slowly. "Mum's making tea, and when she brings it in you can't be in the chair or she'll have questions." She stared down at his hand where it was grabbing her pyjama top (an old oversized t-shirt), his knuckles white. "You... you can let go of me now, Lockwood."

"Oh. Right." He retracted his hand, but not before letting it hover in the space between them for a few seconds. He stood up, the blanket falling, and Y/n immediately turned around.

"Why are you naked?!"

"I am not! I got hot in the night so I took my pyjamas off! I still have my pants on, thank you very much!"

"Well put your pyjamas back on!" she shrieked, pressing her hands over her face (despite still having her back to him) and desperately hoping she could delete the image from her brain. She had thought he'd only taken his top off, but since he wore matching pyjamas the pile of clothes on the table had looked like one thing, not two. She could hear him hopping around while he attempted to quickly pull his trousers on, and after a minute or so he cleared his throat.

"Alright, I'm dressed." Y/n turned around slowly, scared that he was joking, and sighed in relief when she realised that he wasn't. "Such a drama queen," he muttered under his breath, clearly not wanting her to hear as he looked to his left with a red face.

"I am not a drama queen, Lockwood. If anybody is the drama queen it's you. Now get in the bed." She pointed at it, glare on her face.

"If you wanted me to sleep with you you could have let me do that last night," he smirked, and she threw a decorative pillow at him.

"Just get in the bed, Lockwood." She went to grab a second pillow when he wriggled his eyebrows at her, and he quickly stopped and pulled back the covers. When he was finally settled she climbed in next to him.

"Y/n."

"What?"

"You should probably come a bit closer." He wasn't wrong, since they were as far away from each other as they could get, but she stubbornly refused to cosy up to him when she didn't need to just yet.

"Hang on." She'd spotted the blanket still crumpled on the floor, and hurried to pick it up just as she heard her mother coming up the stairs. Chucking it over the armchair she rushed back to the bed, pulling the duvet over her just as the door opened.

"Fuck's sake, come here," Lockwood whispered, harshly tugging on her arm and then wrapping his arm around her waist. "Ah, good morning, Emma!"

"Morning! Just got some tea for you here," she put the tray down on Y/n's bedside table and paused for a moment as she took in the two of them in the bed. "How did you sleep? Hopefully you feel rested enough for today?"

"Oh I slept beautifully, thank you." Lockwood beamed up at Emma, and Y/n wondered if she knew that his fingers were stroking the skin of her stomach under her top where it had ridden up.

"I'm glad to hear it! Well, I'll leave you to it!" They both smiled until Y/n's mother was out of the room, but as soon as the door clicked shut behind her they shot away from each other.

"I hope we never have to do that again."

"We'll have to do it tomorrow morning, darling."

"Nobody else is here, you don't need to keep calling me that."

"Ah, yes. Sorry, Schmoopie."

"I hate you. I'm going to poison your tea." She was getting the mugs ready now, adding extra honey to one and pouring in the water over the tea bags.

"And I will happily drink it."

A few minutes later (she'd had to let the tea stew for a bit) she poured in the milk and handed over his mug.

"Did you add in the sugar?"

"Yep."

"And the honey?"

"You watched me do it, Lockwood."

"Right, yes. I did." He was quiet for a moment, staring into the contents of his mug. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she replied, mild shock running through her at the sincerity of his gratitude.

They drank their tea in silence.

~~~

"So, just to recap, there are around fifty people coming over today?"

"Yep," Y/n said through a mouthful of cereal. "All extended family members and close family friends and their families. I've been thinking about it, and as much as it pains me to say it I think... ugh," she scowled into her bowl. "I think you're right abo-"

"Ha! Finally! I got you to say it! About what?"

"If you'd let me finish, you would know, idiot."

"Oh, yes. Sorry."

"I think you're right about needing to do a big speech to everyone all in one go about..." she gestured between the two of them vaguely, "us."

"Ah. Yes, it would save a lot of time, wouldn't it?"

"Hm, it would. And then we only have to remember things once really."

"Remind me again what the story was?" They were sat in the kitchen, the only ones up other than Y/n's mother (who was upstairs getting things ready).

"What was 8 months ago?"

"Why 8 months?" Lockwood frowned over his second mug of tea that morning.

"Because that's what I told Steph last night."

"Oh. Uh, April I think? There was that one job we went on in March, just the two of us. We could stick pretty close to the truth then if we used that as a death scare that made you realise that you couldn't possibly live without me."

"Wasn't the story that you realised you were hopelessly in love with me one day and asked me out, but I refused multiple times until eventually I gave in to get you to shut up?"

"Well, yes. But I just think that- morning, Stephanie." His smile was clearly forced, and Y/n realised with a start that she was beginning to be able to tell which of his smiles were real.

"Morning you two. Hopefully you didn't get too frisky last night after that adorable kiss under the mistletoe!"

"No, we-"

"Well, a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell, Stephanie," Lockwood smirked, and Y/n rolled her eyes at his interruption. Her cousin was lapping it up, and after a few minutes the kitchen was filled with various members of Y/n's family as they all filed in, bleary eyed and reaching for tea and coffee. They would have to figure out their story while they got ready for the party, since they definitely couldn't get details straight with so many people in the room.

"Morning, Squeak," her brother Will murmured as he sat on a stool next to her at the counter. Y/n scoffed at the nickname, but there was nothing resentful behind it. "Sleep alright?"

"Yeah, did you?" He nodded in response as he started shovelling mouthfuls of cereal in, the bowl nearly spilling over with the amount of food in it.

"Lover boy didn't give you too much grief last night, did he?"

"No, he was alright."

"Hey, if you need a break at any point today come and find me, yeah? I'll fend off any inquisitive relatives."

"Thanks, Will." He was only a couple of years older than her, being the third youngest of her brothers, but Will liked to act as though he was the oldest of all of the L/n siblings. In fairness Tom was eleven and Sam and John who were thirty and twenty-eight respectively were rarely home or in contact with her, and she didn't have as much of a bond with them. Olivia was a year younger than Y/n, but since they had shared a room growing up they had fought consistently over the years about completely irrelevant things and barely talked outside of gatherings.

"Anytime. I think me and the boys were gonna take your lover boy away at some point to give him the proper talk, so if you can't find any of us later that'll be why."

"Please stop calling him 'lover boy', Will," she grimaced, not noticing Lockwood come up behind her.

"But I am your lover boy, darling." She whipped her head around to see Lockwood leaning against the counter next to her with a soft smile.

Weird. She'd thought he would be smirking instead.

Will snorted, then tipped his bowl up to drink the last of the milk. "You two," he said after he'd finished, "are quite possibly the most sickening thing I have ever seen."

~~~

"Is a suit too much, do you think?"

"Maybe leave the tie," Y/n called out from the bathroom where she was getting changed. She had long since pulled on the burgundy dress, but not knowing when Lockwood would be in a state where she could walk out meant that she had spent the last five minutes staring at her reflection in the mirror. She was absolutely certain that multiple people would make comments about her figure, or compare her to Stephanie, or both, and she was dreading leaving the bathroom. Then there would be the comments about her job, and how being an agent was a terrible choice and she should have gone into full-time education instead.

"Y/n? You can come out when you're ready."

She sighed shakily, taking one last look at herself in the mirror above the sink before unlocking the door and stepping out.

Lockwood was in one of his usual suits, pink socks poking out from under his trousers, and he was just sorting out his cuffs when he looked up and froze. When he still didn't say anything Y/n's mind started racing ahead to all the different possibilities.

"I look awful, don't I? I'll get my jeans and jumper and get changed, give me a minute."

"No!" Lockwood shouted, his arms outstretched. He hesitated, then spoke again, and his voice was back to how it sounded when he was being an arse. "No, don't do that, just... you look fine like that and we'll be late if you get changed now."

"Oh. Alright." She frowned, wrapping her arms around her midriff as she inspected Lockwood's outfit. "Wait, don't move," she called out when he went to move. Y/n walked over to him, then reached up to straighten out his collar. It had been sticking up, so she smoothed her hands over it to right it, letting them linger on his chest afterwards. He wasn't moving, and she was quite sure that he wasn't breathing either, and when she looked up at him she realised that she was holding her breath too.

They hadn't been this close since they kissed the night before, and then they'd had an audience.

Now it was just the two of them, alone in the room.

"Y/n?" Lockwood asked, his voice slightly hoarse.

"Yeah?" Had his face moved closer? Suddenly she could make out the individual colours in his eyes and was able to count the freckles on his cheeks. He licked his lips, tilting his head slightly to brush his nose against hers, and she felt her eyes fluttering closed.

"Are you two nearly ready? Emma needs help getting food and things ready for the guests!" A loud knock accompanied the shrill voice of Y/n's Aunt Linda, and the pair of them sprang apart, clearing their throats and avoiding eye contact. Y/n marched over to the door and wrenched it open, plastering a smile on her warm face.

"We're ready! Anthony? You coming?"

"Yeah, just... I'll be down in a minute, darling. I just need to use the loo." He flashed the two women a smile, then disappeared into the en-suite. Y/n could have killed him for leaving her alone, but maybe that was for the best given what had just happened.

"Come on then," Linda said, and ushered her downstairs.

~~~

Everyone was busy doing something, and everything was in complete chaos.

"Oh, that can go over there. Tom, don't put that in your mouth, please. No, over there, Ben. Tom! Not in your mouth! You're eleven, this shouldn't be difficult! Boys, please stop mucking about and do something useful! Over there- oh for god's sake, give it here!" Y/n's mother snatched a plate of food away from her husband, rushing between the kitchen and the dining room that was through the open double doors off to the side. The whole area would be brimming with guests in less than thirty minutes, and things were still being put out. "Oh, you're here, that's perfect. Where's Anthony? Never mind, no time. Here, you can put this next to the thingy there!" Luckily Y/n had grown up with her mother's distracted way of talking and knew exactly what she meant, taking the opportunity to run away from Linda.

The next ten minutes followed the same pattern of being handed things and told to put them in various spots on the table, and Lockwood was nowhere to be seen for any of it. Y/n was starting to worry that he'd flushed his skinny beanpole of a frame down the toilet.

"Where's your boyfriend, Y/n?" Stephanie asked, sidling up in a stunning silver dress that looked as though it had been painted on her.

"In the toilet. Are you gonna help, Steph?"

"Oh, you're... wearing that again?" she asked, ignoring Y/n's tired request for help. "Didn't you wear that last year? You've put on a bit of weight since then, haven't you!" She let out a laugh, and Y/n brought her arms around her stomach self-consciously for the second time since putting on the dress. Maybe she should have ignored Lockwood and got changed anyway. At least then when people complained about her outfit she'd be more comfortable in her own body. "Well, personally I think you should get it let out a little, Y/n. You do look awfully-"

"Beautiful?" a voice questioned from Y/n's right, and after a second someone else's arms were around her waist, pulling her back against a warm chest. "She does look stunning, doesn't she?"

"Anthony," Y/n breathed when he spun her around to face him, his hands holding hers tightly. He was smiling one of those private smiles reserved for the people he cared about, small and gentle, and her heart jumped in her chest.

"I... I suppose," Stephanie said, sounding confused. It was so typical of her to not think of her cousin as anything other than a way to make herself look better. Y/n barely noticed when her cousin drifted off, or when her brother picked up his camera and took a photo of the two of them framed by the lights that had been draped over the doorframe, since all she could focus on was the feel of her hands being held by Lockwood and the way he was looking at her.

"Aww, aren't they just adorable!" Y/n's grandmother Jean said loudly, catching the attention of everybody nearby. Apparently half of the guests had arrived on time (of course the one time that happened was the time she had to pull off a huge fake dating stunt), because the kitchen and dining room were packed with people. Murmurs of assent travelled around, and Y/n could hear a few people questioning who the tall young man next to her was, and suddenly her heart was plummeting rather than jumping, and she felt sick.

"Hey," Lockwood whispered, still smiling at her. "We can do this, alright? It's only today and most of tomorrow, and then we're back in London. It's really not that long when you think about it."

He needed to stop being nice to her, because it was freaking her out.

One minute he was saying she looked fine and not seeming to care much about what she looked like, and the next he was declaring that she was beautiful and stunning with such sincerity that she couldn't help but think it was real.

"So this is the boyfriend Linda told us about, huh?" one guest asked.

"Um... yes," Y/n replied, moving closer to Lockwood and curling into his side, trying not to look too stiff and petrified when his arm came around her side. "This is Anthony." She gestured up at him, feeling increasingly uncomfortable about the fact that around thirty people all had their eyes on her, and any one of them could work out that this relationship was a farce and completely destroy any good reputation that she had amongst her family.

"How did it all start? Go on, give us the story!" somebody called out.

"Yeah, we all want to know!" exclaimed a different voice. "Y/n/n's never had a boyfriend before!"

Y/n shared a glance with Lockwood, and he opened his mouth to speak.

part 5

Tag list (I think this is everyone): @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @locklyebrainrot, @locknco, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the tag list! <3

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #enemies to lovers #fake dating #christmas

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ruby-winchester24 · 11 months

Text

Kenny McCormick headcanons!

[sfw+nsfw] {fem reader}

very affectionate

PDA is his favorite, he wants everyone to know that your his

will make out with you in the hallways, he has no shame

always wants to hang out but not at his house he hates being at home

since he can’t pay for gifts he shows his love through physical touch aka his love language

6’0

he has always had the stereotype that he is a player, it’s far from the truth

body count is 2

will walk you to class he doesn’t care if he is late to his own class

texts you randomly in the middle of class

👌🏼👈🏼

“shut up and put your phone away”

he is surprisingly a great student but some days he just doesn’t feel like doing work

always asks for notes

his lock screen and profile pictures are you ofc

once saved up money for 2 months to buy you a promise ring

loves cuddling, mostly the only thing you guys do when you hang out

has naked Polaroids of you in his room

always finds time to hang out with you it doesn’t matter what’s happening he’s there

he was so happy that you liked his family

his dad doesn’t really give a shit low key

his mom on the other hand thinks your an angel because you babysit Karen sometimes

you try your best to cook for his family whenever you can since they don’t really get meals

Karen literally adores you

she always wants to play or hang out with you and Kenny

you buy her Christmas presents!

Kenny usually comes over to your house to shower, but he will always hang out with you too

loved when you cook breakfast when he spends the night

he def listens to NBA young boy i’m sorry💀

only sports he plays are football and track, low key hates track but he gets out of school a lot for it

motherfucker is FAST he beat the school record for the 100m race

will always hug you after a game or meet🤭

he is always hurt, usually has a couple cuts of bruises on his body

his hands are really calloused from working all the time

shows you embarrassing photos or videos of they guys

will always listen to your drama

“No because Bebe was literally calling Nicole out but she has also done the same thing!”

“What a hypocritical bitch”🙄💅🏽

“I know!”

he hates his teeth because there crooked and is missing the front one

always slapping your ass, it doesn’t matter where you are

will hold hands or interlock pinkies when walking together

will always express how much he loves you

kisses you all the time

is your personal hype man!

you have seen him die before and you did remember

you were so distraught for the rest of the day, when you woke up to Kenny knocking on your door, it fucked your brain

tells you about him being immortal and that’s the first time you ever see him cry

“sometimes i feel like a freak, being able to die and come back the next day like nothing happened isn’t normal!”

“i just want to be normal..”

he is actually a very emotional person but since he didn’t get much attention when he was younger, and his father yelling at him for crying he usually doesn’t to it much

but when he does it’s heartbreaking

he has panic attacks when he does cry from all of the emotions he feels that’s he not used too

when you try to calm him down you ask him to tell you happy memories

tells you stories about the boys when they were younger

he is your bodyguard also if anyone try’s to start shit with you it’s on

always drags you along with him when he hangs out with the boys

the guys usually complain about it aka Eric

when he spends the night at your house he always asks if you guys can have a spa night, since he can’t take showers too often he always enjoys the days you pamper him and make him feel clean

his love languages are physical touch and quality time

will rub your back before you fall asleep

if you smoke, he is your new smoking buddy

when he is high he is overly touchy, he just wants to be with you

if you do any sports or activities, he will be there cheering the loudest for you

he posts you almost everyday on his snap story

you teach Karen to braid hair🥰

Kenny loves how you are so close to Karen

is always thinking about having kids with you

wants to get married one day

NSFW!!

he is a very kinky person, even you bending over gives him a hard on

his main kinks are

orgasm conrol

bondage

breeding

a little bdsm

praise and degradation

choking

wax play

overstimulation

always down to try something new

he LOVES bondage, the idea of you being tied up and helpless gets him worked up

remember when i said he has those naked polaroid pics of you? he def rubs one out looking at those when your away

mostly a dom but likes when you are in control every now and then

orgasm control is his favorite, to see you looking at him with begging eyes

8 inches….

he is definitely more experienced when it comes to sex so he knows how to make you feel great

very vocal, he usually grunts and moans

loves to mark you up wherever he can

in missionary he will hold onto you as he thrusts into you

“god, baby girl you’re so beautiful”

“such a good slut, taking all of me”

“i own you”

“look at me when i cum in you”

loves to eat you out

music if definitely playing on the background

loves cream pies so hopefully your on birth control

8/10 will cum in you during sex

he has many toys to use on you

if your sucking him off he will hold your hair and guide your head up and down

cock warming is very common, he love’s physical touch and being able to be inside you makes him really happy

loves when you moan it makes him even more horny when you do

lingerie is his favorite😮‍💨

when your in control he is very submissive like extremely

he will beg for you to touch him and for him to cum

when you ride him, he is a mess

aftercare is usually really sweet

will always ask if you need anything before he gets up to get water

he will always make you take a shower with him, which ends up as round two

but it’s okay after you actually get cleaned up he will hold you and whisper sweet nothings into you ear

“you did so great for be baby”

“i love you so so much”

“your so beautiful, my beautiful girl”

“i’m here i will not let you go”

also i forgot to add in my last posts, they are all aged up!! anyways i hope you like this

#south park #kenny mccormick #kenny mcormick x reader #kenny my beloved #i’m mentally ill #kenny south park #kenny x you #south park headcanons #south park x reader

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stars-and-birds · 1 year

Text

Happy new year guys have a self indulgent wenclair fic i wrote instead of sleeping :D

“Tonight’s the night.” Enid declared, slamming down her red plastic cup next to the table where Yoko sat, some odd mixture of orange juice and vodka sloshing at the impact. Yoko looked up, flashing lights dancing across her pale face and dark eyes.

“Tonight’s the night… you what?” She asked, twisting around in her chair to face a confident and possibly slightly drunk Enid.

“The night I tell her. Wednesday” She replied breezily, plopping down into the chair next to Yoko. It was New Year’s eve, and Xavier Thorpe was throwing a huge party at his house. Well, ‘house’ was a stretch. More like a mansion. Enid had gotten lost at least five times (and stumbled upon three couples making out) on her way to the main room, where a disco ball flashed almost as loudly as the blasting music. Alcohol and drunk teenagers splashed across the room, dancing and cheering. Half of Nevermore had to be there.

“I’ll take her aside and confess. I’m telling her I like her.” Enid said confidently. She’d played the scenario over and over in her head, she wouldn’t be surprised if it had seared itself onto her brain. For months now she’d been worrying, trying to find some way to tell Wednesday she had feelings for her. Two very different possibilities played like a broken record in her brain, looping over and over. Number one, Wednesday harshly rejects her with a cold glare and their friendship breaks apart, Enid moves in with Yoko, and they never talk to or see each other ever again. This was bad. Worst case scenario. Scenario two, and the unfortunately less likely one, however… included holding hands, dates, kisses…

“Earth to Enid. Testing testing one two three.” Yoko said, snapping Enid out of a daydream that had spread a huge smile on her face.

“What?”

“Can I tell you what I think will happen?” Yoko asked, snatching up Enid’s drink like a cat and taking a sip.

“What?” Enid said again, somewhat irritated.

“You’ll work up some nerve and then chicken out like a little bitch. Like at the Christmas party. Or the Halloween one. Or even— ”

“Yeah okay I get it.” Enid interrupted. “But this time will be different! New year, new me.”

“Technically it’s not the new year yet.” Yoko pointed out as her girlfriend, Divina, stumbled up and sat next to Yoko too, leaning her head on her shoulder. Enid rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. Oh, there she is!” She said excitedly, spotting Wednesday’s goth aesthetic sticking out like a sore thumb. Her signature braids hung behind her head, nearly blending into her midnight black dress that spilled over her shoulders like a waterfall. The light caught her face for a second, flashing her black eyes so bright Enid could see it from across the room. Enid’s heart beat a little faster.

I’msogayi’msogayi’msogay

Enid took a deep breath, smoothing the colorful jumpsuit that she had slipped into for the night.

“WEDNESDAY HI!!!!” Enid yelled, making her way through the crowd and raising her voice over the music rattling her feet. Wednesday turned to face her, her face softening a little at the sight of Enid wiggling her way through the horde of sweat and vodka breath.

“OMG you look great!” Enid squealed, clasping her hands together as she finally reached Wednesday and Thing, perched like a bird on her shoulder, signing hello at Enid.

“You look…” Wednesday glanced Enid up and down like a cat stalking her prey, silently judging. “Revolting.”

“Thanks… I guess.” Enid gulped a little, a lump of nerves sliding down her throat.

Okay Sinclair. Stay cool. Just act normal.

“SO! Wednesday, I wanted to talk to you.” Wednesday’s eyebrows creeped up her forehead.

“You are.” She deadpanned.

“I know! I know, I just… about something specific.”

A beat.

“About…”

“YEah! About… um…” God, why was this so hard? Just get it out there.

“Do you… I… um. Do you want a drink?” She blurted out. Ugh. Nice going Sinclair.

Wednesday’s eyebrows raised a little higher. “I suppose.” She conceded.

“Great! I’ll go get you one.” Enid scrambled off into the crowd. Ugh. Of course Yoko was right, of course her nerves had overpowered her and she’d chickened out. No. It wasn’t too late. She’d get the drinks, come back, confess… and no matter what happened, hope it would quel the raging storm that thundered in her chest whenever Wednesday looked at her. It was a storm, yes. But it was also a flower that had slowly grown, unknown to Enid at first. A flower that glowed when Wednesday complimented her, that bloomed when they touched. A flower that Enid had unknowingly nurtured until she’d found herself with a flower bigger than she’d ever imagined. She reached the refreshments table, grabbing two plastic cups and scooping some punch in, contemplating the situation. Of fucking course she had to fall in love with Wednesday fucking Addams of all people. Wednesday with her deadpan drawl, cold glares, beautiful eyes… Something sticky and wet hit her hand, and she looked down to see that she’d overfilled the cup she was holding. Ugh.

Five minutes later she’d successfully partly cleaned up the mess, and was making her way through the crowd again, this time precariously balancing two glasses of punch. Okay. Okay. Okay okay okay okay. She got this. She’d walk up to Wednesday, tell her she liked her and then… heartbreak or kisses. Probably heartbreak, she thought bitterly.

“Okay Wednesday,” Here we go. “I got your drink, I…” she trailed off. Her heart plummeted into her stomach. There, right where she had left her, Wednesday stood in front of Xavier. The boy was holding roses. Black roses. Black roses that Wednesday’s hands were closed around, hands that dropped to Wednesday’s side at the sight of Enid standing there.

Oh.

The punch cups clattered to the floor, but all noise was muted in Enid’s ears.

Something new bloomed in Enid’s chest. Not bloomed. Withered. Withered and stung, dead branches prickling her heart, closing in and suffocating it. The feeling slowly creeped up her chest, closing up her throat, thorns stinging her eyes. Tears, hot and wet and gross and—

“Enid.” Wednesday’s voice. Her voice, which had soothed Enid’s nightmares and comforted her through her pain. Her voice that cut through Enid’s thoughts, that shocked her out of her trance.

“I… I'm sorry. Sorry. I… I have to go, I—” Enid’s words tripped and stumbled over themselves, not quite finding footing and forming complete sentences. It didn’t matter, as something else drove Enid’s legs away. Away from the shocked boy with the roses and the stunned girl who had stolen her heart. Away, away, away. Away down the confusing endless halls, which seemed to close in on her every second. Away and into the nearest door, away and stumbling into the closet and bumping into the brooms and mops and falling to the floor, sobbing. Tears soaked her thoughts, blurred common sense. Why was she crying? It’s not as if… it’s not as if she ever expected to get together with Wednesday. She didn’t expect a fairy tale ending, so why did it feel like she’d been cheated out of it? Had she read too far into the brushes of hands and passing glances that she’d feebly convinced herself she didn’t think meant anything more? Her heart felt like it’d been ripped out of her chest, tossed aside carelessly. Why did it feel like she’d handed Wednesday her heart, fragile and on edge from all the times it had been broken and dropped. Why did it feel like Wednesday had taken it from her and set it aside, doomed to inevitably fall again. Why did it feel so wrong?

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, just her and her broken heart. Stupid stupid stupid. Her mom’s voice stained her thoughts. She had no reason to be upset. She was overreacting, being overdramatic. Afterall, Wednesday didn’t know about Enid’s feelings for her. It wasn’t fair to Wednesday. And maybe, Wednesday did know and just… hadn’t cared. Decided Enid wasn’t good enough. It wouldn't be the first time Wednesday had tossed aside someone’s feelings for her own benefit. It wouldn’t be the first time Enid was abandoned for being not good enough. A shadow from behind the door tore away the flashing lights that had crept through, cracking open the door slowly. Enid kept her head in her arms, sniffling. The shadow —whoever it was — carefully set itself down next to Enid, brushing against her in the small closet.

“Enid.” Enid would recognize that voice anywhere. Even through her usual bored tone, Wednesday still managed to sound… caring.

“Enid, I need you to talk to me.” A pause, a mini void filled only by more sniffling from Enid.

“Why are you upset?” Her voice wasn’t demanding or accusing. Only curious. Like her voice that first night on the roof, when she had asked why Enid was crying. She’d said because she was upset. Maybe Wednesday understood that now, that crying meant that Enid wasn’t okay, that she needed comfort. Enid let the silence hang for a few more moments, trying to collect her stray thoughts and fish out an excuse.

“I… just. Sorry. Must’ve had too much to drink, haha.” Enid hated the way her voice sounded, weak and scrawny like a newborn chick.

“I can’t help if you’re lying to me.” Wednesday stated so matter-of-factly, turning to face Enid. Her eyes were so beautiful, a betraying part of her brain couldn’t help notice.“Is this about Xavier?” She continued. “Do you… like him?” Her eyes were like milky black pearls. Or a void staring endlessly back at Enid… wait. Wait what.

“What? No!” Enid wrinkled her nose. Even the thought of getting together with that… emo wannabe made her want to gag.

“Then what’s wrong?” Enid looked away again, resting her head in her arms.

Click

She looked up, startled. The closet door had slammed shut, and she scrambled to her feet, jiggling the door handle. It was locked. Wednesday had stood up too, pushing Enid aside to try it herself.

“Thing, if you do not open this door I will flay you alive.” She said, tone so sharp you could use it to slit someone's throat. No sound from the other side of the door, save for the soft clicks of manicured fingers padding off.

“Thing!” Wednesday growled. Enid shoved her back aside, trying to channel some werewolf strength to open up the door. Wednesday pushed her back, and soon they were shoving each other back and forth in the tiny closet.

“Enid, stop moving.”

“Give me some space!”

“Stop moving!”

Enid froze, eyes barely registering anything in the total darkness. A moment later, a light clicked on. Wednesday had found a lightbulb, and the cord to turn it on along with it. Speaking of Wednesday… after a moment of adjusting to the light Enid noticed.. They were very close. A tangle of limbs, they’d somehow ended up eye-to-eye, barely a foot between their faces.

Oh god

Enid could feel herself turning red, her cheeks flushing as Wednesday mumbled something about Thing never seeing the light of day again. She looked… really hot. Which was a very weird thing to think about the sweaty girl with a death glare you were trapped in a closet with, so she was going to stop thinking about it along with the ever growing urge to kiss Wednesday Friday Addams.

“I was jealous!” Enid blurted out. She wasn’t sure where it came from. Maybe she was tired of hiding it. Wednesday was looking at her, dumbfounded.

“…What?”

“I was jealous.” Enid continued, squeezing her eyes shut so she wouldn’t have to see the disgust that would inevitably flush the other girl’s face. “I was jealous of Xavier. Because I know he likes you and you like him and I…” She trailed off, bowing her head as more tears stung her eyes. “And I like you.” The words hung heavy in the air, a long held secret finally released.

“You like me?” Wednesday’s voice was a whisper, a ghost. But Enid heard it. Liked her? She more than liked her, really.

“I—”

“TEN!”

Enid was cut off by a chorus of voices from outside the closet. She pulled up her apple watch. 11:59. The countdown to new years had begun.

“NINE!”

“Enid, listen.” Wednesday's voice rang out urgent and clear.

“EIGHT!”

“It’s okay, I get it. You don’t like me back.” It was hard to keep the spite from creeping into her voice.

“SEVEN!”

“No, I… I don’t like Xavier. We’re not a thing. I rejected him”

“SIX!”

For a moment, Enid’s voice was stolen from her.

Wednesday didn’t like Xavier.

“FIVE!”

“But… I don’t understand. The flowers…” Something cold creeped up Enid’s face. Wednesday. Wednesday’s hands cupped her cheeks.

“FOUR!”

The space between them had gotten smaller, the air a kind of heavy that made Enid’s chest seize up around her heart and catch her breath.

“THREE!”

“I don’t like Xavier. I like you.” Wednesday said softly, so close that Enid could feel her warm breath mingling with Enid’s own.

“TWO!”

“Me? But… I don’t understand.” Enid’s voice was shaky, trembling. A million things were going on within her, panicked screams and breathless gasps. She was pretty sure she was having a heart attack.

“Then let me help you understand,” Wednesday replied, the determination in her voice reflected in her eyes.

“ONE!”

Faster than Enid could prepare or process, Wednesday kissed her. On the lips. And after an incredible moment that lasted for an infinity, that she would carry with her for the rest of her life, Enid kissed back. She couldn’t see the fireworks outside, but she had a pretty good idea from inside the closet. The boom was her heartbeat, so quick and so loud. The heat was Wednesday’s lips against hers, warm and welcoming. The lights… the lights were the faint blush that graced Wednesday’s black and white cheeks, the shine in her eyes when they opened as they broke apart. Wednesday's hands were a chilly vine, receding from Enid’s hair, tracing her chin.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The crowd from outside screamed, laughing and talking before breaking into a chorus. Wednesday’s eyes never left Enid, her brow furrowing.

“You taste like alcohol.”

Enid couldn’t help it. The flower in her chest had bloomed again, and something in her was just so… happy. She broke out into giggles, doubling over. She’d just kissed Wednesday fucking Addams. She’d just kissed Wednesday!

“Pffft. Happy New Year Wednesday.”

#wenclair #wenclair fic #My fic #my fics #im too lazy to put this on ao3 lol #whatever ill do it tommorow #well today technically #hang on did i just pull an all-nighter #shit

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randomwelcomehomestuff · 9 months

Text

Unfinished Business: a Welcome Home Corpse Puppet AU fanfiction

A/N: Just here to let you know that I'm not creative. Like, at all. This is a fanfic of a fanfic inspired by a fan-made AU of a completely unrelated work, but I couldn't get it out of my head so maybe now my brain will be at peace so I can work on my original story (or it will come up with fifty other fanfic ideas because that's more fun than editing).

Anyway, Welcome Home belongs to Clown/partycoffin, the Corpse Puppet AU belongs to @sketchquill, and the fanfic this is based on is a Corpse Bride/Nightmare Before Christmas crossover fic called The Undead Groom by moviefan_92 on Ao3.

Spoiler Alert for all of that media, plus a little for the novel The Pumpkin Queen just because there's a reference here and there, but not too much.

Also C/W: There's a lot of major character death in here.

I may add more to it later if inspiration strikes. Let me know in the comments if you are interested in that.

Okay, I'll shut up, now. Here's the fic.

The carriage jostled down the muddy dirt road. You wrung the handkerchief in your hands as you gazed out the window at the grey sky, occasionally distracted by the raindrops trailing down the glass. Try as you might, you just couldn't cry. You wanted to, but no tears would come.

At least the dreary weather was appropriate for a funeral.

Howdy was watching you. He wasn't one to judge his spouse's appearance, but he did decide that funeral black did not suit you particularly well. Not when he'd seen you in so many other bright, cheerful colors, when you had been happy. When you were like this—mourning—the sparkle in your eyes was gone. He thought you were beautiful when you were happy, somehow still hauntingly so when you were sad, but he would be lying if he said he didn't prefer seeing you smile or laugh.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “I know you and Eddie were close.”

You sighed. “I'll be fine. This isn't my first time dealing with grief.”

Yes, Howdy knew that all too well. The first several days of your marriage had been more awkward than they probably should have been for... obvious reasons. Any time he caught you staring despondently out the window, he knew deep down that you were thinking of Wally.

That didn't have a negative impact on your marriage, though. You were strong and optimistic, and Howdy shared many happy memories with you. You taught him how to play piano, and he in turn taught you how to garden. You even started a small orchard together. Howdy couldn't think of many more signs of a happy home than the smell of apple blossoms in the garden and hallways filled with the sounds of music and laughter. You were comfortable, and your fortunes were secure, (that was the most important thing to both of your parents, and neither of you could ask for much more than your parents' satisfaction).

Most of all, you and Howdy loved each other. Howdy had accepted long ago that yours was a love built off of friendship and mutual respect rather than romance, but it was enough for him, (considering what he grew up witnessing from his parents, he counted that as the greatest success of them all). You recently celebrated your copper anniversary, which baffled Howdy. How could seven years fly by so quickly? Thinking back on everything, he knew that he was completely satisfied with where his life was, as long as you were by his side and happy.

Which is why he hated to see you so sad. He wouldn't rush you through your grief, but he could at least help lighten the load. “Would you like to talk about it?” he asked.

You looked down at the handkerchief in your hands, wadded up beyond recognition, but still as dry as it was when Howdy handed it to you. You smoothed it out over your lap and stared at Howdy's initials embroidered in green in the corner.

Howdy watched you, patient. A deep rumble of thunder rolled through the sky outside.

“I just... hate how somber it was,” you said.

“Funerals typically are.”

“I know, but Eddie wouldn't have wanted that. He was so much more cheerful and... and colorful than that. He'd want people telling funny stories about him and celebrating his life, not... just standing in silence while the dirt is thrown over his casket.” Your shoulders stiffened. “I should have said something.” Now you could feel the tears building up, but they simply would not come. I should be crying. Why am I not crying?

Howdy leaned forward and took your hand, and you finally looked into his eyes. He was smiling. “He's in a better place, now.”

You smiled at that. Seven years ago, those words would have felt like a hollow attempt at consolation, but now they were a real comfort. Howdy was there when the dead came up to the Land of the Living. He witnessed Eddie and Frank briefly reunite. Now they would never be separated again, and he knew it as well as you did.

Perhaps that was why you couldn't cry: you knew that good things were waiting for Eddie on the other side.

The tears finally spilled over and rolled down your cheeks, but they were not tears of sorrow. You were happy.

Howdy used two of his free hands to cup your face. His smile was soft and understanding as he thumbed away your tears. You stood and shifted over to the seat across from you so you could sit beside him, and his four arms wrapped you up into a tight hug. He pressed a kiss into the top of your head, like he had so many times before. “Everything will be alright,” he whispered.

“I know,” you mumbled into his shoulder.

Lightning flashed outside, followed by a loud clap of thunder. You gripped at Howdy's coat as he leaned forward to look out the window. “That storm is getting much worse.”

“Should we stop somewhere?” you asked.

He nodded. “Most likely.” He reached up to knock on the ceiling of the coach. “Johnson? How are the roads looking?” he called.

Johnson, the driver, shouted something back to Howdy, but his voice was drowned out by a deafening crash. A blinding white light flooded the carriage and the horses whinnied outside in terror. You tried to lean forward to look out the window, but the horses bolted and the momentum sent you crashing to the floor of the coach. You could hear Johnson yelling. Howdy grabbed your arm and tried to haul you back into the seat, but when you looked out the window, what you saw made you freeze.

Lightning had struck a nearby tree. It was on fire. Johnson seemed to have lost the reins, because you could see them flapping in the wind by the window. Howdy was calling your name. Johnson was screaming at the horses to stop.

The carriage was passing the flaming tree right as it started to crackle and groan.

You jumped back into the seat and grabbed Howdy. One of his hands grasped the back of your head and his body tensed around you as if he was bracing himself.

It only took a few seconds—three at most—but it felt like an eternity.

Wood splintered around you as the carriage shattered. A heavy weight came down on you and Howdy, and for a brief, macabre moment, you were amazed by how fragile your bodies really were.

Then everything went black.

There was nothing but darkness for a long time. You tried to move, tried to call out for Howdy, but nothing happened. You were just... nothing.

That thought scared you. There was so much more than that. Light. Color. Noises and smells. Life. You couldn't be nothing, that just wasn't possible. You had memories and goals. You had a spouse and a family. You had an estate to attend to you. You couldn't just... not be.

Panic twisted your stomach into knots, clawed its way up your throat, and came out of your mouth as a scream: “Help! Help me!”

“Alright, alright! Calm down!”

You stopped. That voice sounded familiar, but you couldn't quite put your finger on who it was.

Then you heard another, timid voice. “Is it always like this?”

That one you did recognize, because you had just heard it a few days ago. It was Eddie. Your instinct was to gasp, but you couldn't. I can't breathe. Oh, God, I can't breathe.

The first voice spoke again: “Often, yes. It all depends on the person and how at peace they are.”

There was a shuffling nearby. It was odd, despite the panic coursing through you, your body was strangely... calm. You expected your heart to be thumping fast and heavy in your ears and for your palms to be sweaty, but there was nothing.

The space above you shifted with a low creak and light stabbed your eyes. You flinched, blinked, then stared at the two faces above you blurring into focus.

Eddie and Frank were leaned over, looking down at you. They both offered you sad, soft smiles.

Your neck was stiff as you looked around. Your were laying in some sort of bed. It wasn't comfortable; even though it was all silk, there was no cushion, and the pillow at your head was much too small. Your mind was sluggish like you had just woken from a long nap. You had to blink several times and crane your neck to the left before you realized that Frank was holding open a lid.

You were in a casket.

Your tongue felt like cement in your mouth as you stammered, “Am... am I d-dead?”

Eddie gave you a pitying look. “Oh, Y/N.”

“Come on,” Frank said, “the sooner you get on your feet, the better you'll feel.” He and Eddie grabbed you under your arms and hoisted you out of the casket, which was sitting on a table. They helped you find your footing and Frank instructed you through some stretches to shake off the rigor mortis. You took a moment to look around.

You were in a sort of cavern, full of other caskets sitting on tables. Some looked new, others old and decayed.

“Where are we?” you asked.

“The Land of the Dead. Specifically, an offshoot of our village, just below the graveyard where you were buried,” Frank said.

You felt dizzy. “So... the crash... I didn't make it.”

Eddie put his hand on your shoulder. “No one made it except the driver. When the tree fell, he got thrown off, but he survived. Poor man blames himself for what happened. Thinks he should have kept better hold of the reins or suggested you leave sooner to avoid the storm.” He squeezed your shoulder. “They say you and Howdy died in each other's arms.”

“Howdy...” Your stomach was churning and you wondered if you could still get sick even if you were dead.

Eddie nodded. “Frank had to break a couple of rules, but we went to the Land of the Living to see your funeral—”

“From a safe distance, of course,” Frank interrupted.

“Of course. Your parents spared no expense. They got you a big, beautiful gravestone and there were flowers everywhere. You and Howdy were buried next to each other in the outfits you got married in.”

You glanced down at yourself for the first time and realized he was right, you were wearing the outfit your mother had picked out for your wedding, complete with your wedding band on your left hand.

Not only that, but you were also wearing the other wedding band on your right hand. Wally's wedding band. It was the same ring Wally had worn all those years ago, after you had practiced your vows in the woods. You ended up keeping it for myself since Howdy's mother insisted that you purchase new rings for your next attempt at getting married, (”I'll have no cursed rings at this ceremony,” she said). You could never bring yourself to get rid of it, though, and eventually fell into the habit of wearing it on your right hand while you wore your actual wedding ring on your left.

You were surprised that you had been buried with it, considering everything. Perhaps your family decided that since you wore it all the time, it held sentimental value to you and you'd want to keep it. Or, you shuddered to consider this, your hands were too swollen to get it off.

You shook those thoughts away and looked back to Eddie. “Where is Howdy?” you asked. “If he was buried next to me, shouldn't he be here?”

Frank and Eddie exchanged a glance. “We aren't sure where he is,” Eddie said.

“We've been keeping an eye out for him, but we think he's gone to the upstairs,” Frank added.

“The upstairs?”

“Heaven, Paradise, Nirvana, whatever you call it. You can go to whatever version of the afterlife you choose once you pass on. Unless you're someone like Julie.” They frowned. “Someone like that who has caused suffering for others doesn't get a choice. She's downstairs.”

“So, if there's an upstairs and a downstairs, where are we? The ground floor?”

Frank's mouth twitched into a smile. “Something like that. The people who end up here usually either can't make up their mind where they want to go or have unfinished business. You could join Howdy upstairs, if you wanted.”

You considered this, but the idea made your head spin. Where exactly did Howdy go, and how would you go about joining him?

Frank nodded to a nearby hallway. “We can talk more about this, later. Come on, the others are waiting to see you.”

The others. You perked up a bit remembering them. Sally, Poppy, Barnaby, even your old dog, Scraps. You followed Frank out of the cavern, and Eddie fell into step beside you, whistling a cheery tune as you walked.

The bells were already ringing by the time you reached the village, and as you got closer to the old tavern you could hear a chorus of voices all calling out, “New arrival! New arrival!”

Eddie chuckled beside you. “Poppy is up to her ears in cooking. They just had a Welcome Feast for me the other day.”

You tried to swallow, but your mouth was too dry. God, Eddie's, funeral was just the other day, and now here you were. You weren't sure if you could take part in any kind of feast; your mind was still reeling from everything that had happened.

You entered the tavern and were immediately greeted by Sally, the tragic Shakespearean actor, who gripped your hand and was roughly shaking it as soon as you stepped through the door. “Well, it's about time you showed up!” she said.

“Easy, Sally. Y/N is still adjusting,” Frank said as they came in beside you.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sally said as she tugged you across the room and sat you down at a bar. “So how'd it happen?”

You cleared your throat. “Um. A carriage accident.”

She whistled. “Wow, that's a rough way to go. Do you remember any of it?”

“Not really. I got knocked out pretty quickly.”

There was a loud thud beside you as a familiar, tall blue dog plopped down in the seat on your other side. “Welp, that's good at least,” Barnaby said as he handed you a frothing mug of beer.

“Sure is. Not remembering violent deaths makes the transition a little easier.”

Barnaby leaned over, his eyeball rolling into his right socket, and peered at you. “And judging by all the schmutz on your face, I'm guessing it wasn't a pretty sight.”

“Schmutz?” You gently touched your face and realized that you had a very thick layer of makeup on.

“Oh yeah! We need to get that off you right away. It looks awful.” Sally stood up and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Poppyyyyyy! I need a mirrooooooooor!”

“One moment, please!” a high-pitched, crow-like voice squawked from the kitchen. “Goodness me, I'm going to start molting again from all these feasts.” Poppy walked into the space behind the bar, wiping her wings on her apron, and she looked up at you. “Oh, my dear Y/N. I heard the rumors, but I didn't know if they were true. I'm so sorry.”

You couldn't help but smile at Poppy, remembering the way she comforted you when you first came here and were scared out of your wits. “I'm fine. It's good to see you again.”

She smiled back at you before digging through her apron pocket. “Let's see, I think I have a mirror in here, somewhere. Ah!” She withdrew a tiny hand mirror and handed it to you. “Please don't be insulted, but whoever did your funeral makeup certainly did you a disservice.”

You looked into the mirror and blanched when you realized that they were right. The makeup didn't match your skin tone and made you look horribly discolored, and they seemed to try and make up for that by applying huge splotches of rouge to your cheeks and lips. You grimaced at your reflection.

“Uh huh. Here,” Sally said while handing you a rag.

You went to work cleaning up your face and neck, scrubbing the makeup away. You froze when you glanced at your reflection again and noticed just how much you had changed. Your skin had taken on a bluish tint, and you had massive stitches across your neck and down your right temple. You gently prodded at your temple and flinched when a fraction of your skull shifted under your touch. No, the accident wasn't pretty at all.

Sally noticed this and took the rag and mirror from you. “Here, I'll finish,” she said.

“You'll get used to it,” Barnaby said as Sally got to work. “Imagine how Poppy was when she first got here and saw that half of her face was missing.”

Sally finished and nodded with satisfaction. “There. Now you look like one of us!”

“The stitches are a nice touch, too. Makes you look like a pirate,” Barnaby said.

Sally gasped. “Oooo. We could do a production of The Pirates of Penzance! Are you a good singer?”

“Me? Well, uh—”

Barnaby laughed then stood up. “Care if I go ahead and audition?” He started singing “I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major-General” before anyone could protest, going out of his way to use a silly voice and make larger-than-life funny gestures.

Eddie took Barnaby's seat beside you and helped himself to the drink that Poppy put down in front of him. “So, what do you think you're going to do now?”

You pondered this for a moment. “I'm not sure. What can I do?”

“Whatever you want, really. You could move on to another afterlife upstairs, or you could stay here. Take care of whatever unfinished business you have.”

You shrugged. “I guess that's why I'm here, huh? I just can't make up my mind?”

Poppy leaned against the bar and giggled. “Oh, no. I think you do have unfinished business.”

You tilted your head. “What?”

Sally's attention was brought back to you and she propped her elbows on the bar, giving you a sly smile. “Oh, yeah. And I bet we all know what it is.”

“I'm confused,” you said.

“Oh, come on. Do we really need to spell it out for you?” she said with a groan. “How about the guy you almost drank poison for?”

Your eyes widened. “Wally?”

Sally and Poppy both nodded. Barnaby gave up on his performance when he realized no one was watching him juggle three empty beer mugs and approached you again. “Sounds about right,” he said.

“But that's not possible. Wally, he... he's gone. I saw him disappear.”

Frank approached you from behind and placed their hand on your shoulder. “He's not gone. Souls don't just disappear like that.”

“Yeah, and he visited us a couple of weeks ago,” Barnaby added.

You felt something deep within you—your heart, maybe? even though it wasn't beating anymore?—jump up at the revelation. “Where is he? Upstairs?”

“Nah, I think Poppy would have let us know if he was living in the attic.” Barnaby laughed when Frank gave him a sharp glare.

“Not precisely. Last I heard, he's residing in another in-between kind of place. It's a little bit harder to get there since it's separate from our world, but he's figured it out well enough that he still visits us from time to time,” Frank said.

Your throat clenched like a fist and your eyes were stinging. You pressed your hands against your mouth and sniffled.

Poppy grinned. “I knew it.”

“Please. We all knew it,” Sally said.

“How do I find him?” you said.

Frank put a hand to his chin. “Well, he told me that there are a couple of ways to get there, but for most of them you have to know what you're looking for. I haven't been able to go there, myself, so I won't be very much help, there.” They tapped his jaw and hummed a bit in thought. “I suppose I could give you the spell I gave Wally before. It's a bit of a gamble, but I'm sure it won't be much of a problem for you. It's a spell to help you find your heart's desire. I gave it to him when he first got here in case he ever changed his mind about that unfinished business of his, and he kept it with him for years. Didn't use it until that day in the Land of the Living.”

You remembered that moment vividly, when you watched as Wally's body dissolved into hundreds of blue and grey butterflies. “That was a spell? I thought he was gone.”

Frank shook his head. “I think once he decided that he was satisfied, he needed something to help him move on. He's happy where he is now, if not a little lonely.”

You hugged yourself. You had never considered the possibility of seeing Wally again, and now that you were told that it was possible, your heart seemed to sing at the idea. But something was holding you back.

“What about Howdy?”

Frank sighed. “I can't help you with that. I'm afraid that's a decision you'll have to make on your own.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Eddie said, “you're not limited to one place. You can visit each afterlife whenever you want. I visited my parents in the upstairs the other day, but I'm staying here to be with Frank.” As he said this, he took Frank's hand and gave them a sweet smile. “So, uh, if you want to see Howdy again, you can. But you don't have to stay anywhere. You're free to do what you want.”

That seemed to loosen some of the tension in your chest. You took a deep breath and let your heart take over. “Okay. How do I use that spell?”

Frank smiled. “We'll need to get some things out of my office.”

You stood and followed Frank out the door. Sally whooped behind you, “Woo hoo! Lover boy's getting his partner back!”

“We'll have that Welcome Feast another time, alright?” Poppy called.

Barnaby just hummed to himself, considering adding another verse to “Remains of the Day” so that the story would have a happy ending, after all. Then again, he'd probably have to sacrifice the catchy instrumental part in the middle so the song wasn't too long, and he wasn't willing to do that.

You and Eddie stood in silence as you watched Frank dig through his various supplies. He scrutinized their spell book as he carefully measured and combined the ingredients. When they were finished, he handed you a small capsule the size of a marble.

“This is it?” you asked.

He nodded. “It looks unassuming, but it is a very powerful spell. All you have to do is crush it in your hand and you'll be sent to wherever your heart's desire is. Though, you may need to try and focus on one thing, or else you may get sent to the wrong place.”

“But don't worry. If you get lost, just find a graveyard and enter a crypt to go underground, and you'll find a village associated with that grave yard. You should be able to find your way back from there,” Eddie said.

You nodded, staring at the capsule in the palm of your hand.

Without warning, Eddie pulled you into a hug. “Take care of yourself, okay, bud? And you'd better visit us all the time, or I'll come find you, myself.”

You smiled and leaned into his hug. “I will. I promise.”

Frank sniffed and cleared their throat, trying to hide the fact that you reminded him of themselves when he was young and fell in love with Eddie for the first time. “Alright, go on before Eddie decides to make you stay here.”

You turned to Frank and gave him a hug, too. “Thank you,” you whispered.

They awkwardly patted your back. “Of course.” He led you out to his balcony that overlooked the village. “I will warn you, it may be a bit of a bumpy ride.”

You walked to the edge of the balcony, looked back over your shoulder at them as Eddie put his arm around Frank. You took a deep breath—just out of habit at this point, and it was an odd sensation to feel your lungs stretch for the first time in a while—then turned your face up. You closed your eyes and pictured Wally, wherever he was, then you squeezed your right hand until the capsule burst and a fine powder spilled out between your fingers.

Nothing happened, at first. You opened your eyes again and looked down, wondering if you'd done something wrong.

But then you felt another strange sensation: an unraveling, like your body was falling away from you. A gust of wind swirled around you, your feet and the tips of your fingers tingled, and your body transformed into hundreds of butterflies.

Just like Wally.

Normally, you would have been frightened. You weren't. Your heart jumped up in your throat with excitement. You almost laughed, but your face and mouth had been transformed by then.

You were jumbling, fluttering, riding on the wind current, spread out in a great cloud of delicate wings. You tumbled through the air, trying and failing to grasp what was happening and where you were going. The world flew past you in a blur. You felt free.

You jolted when your feet suddenly met solid ground. You blinked, held your hands out in front of you and found them whole again.

You were in a circular clearing in the middle of a grove of trees. You spun around in a circle, taking in your surroundings. The trees were all tall and dark, and each tree on the edge of this clearing had a door carved into it. A four-leaf clover, a big red heart, a Christmas tree? An Easter egg? These were all symbols associated with holidays.

“Oh!” a quiet voice sounded behind you. You turned to face them and stared, slack-jawed, at the person who met you. She was a tall, slender woman standing at the edge of the grove. Her skin was made of a blue fabric and she had long, red hair and wore a colorful, patchwork dress. A small basked was hanging from the crook of her arm, stuffed with sprigs of lavender. Her round, glassy, babydoll eyes blinked at you. She smiled and dipped her head down. “I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting to find anyone else here.”

You struggled to find your words as you were still wrapping your head around the concept that a giant rag doll was talking to you. This was all a lot for you to take in one day. You coughed and said, “No, I'm sorry. I'm just... looking for someone.”

The woman tilted her head. “Is that so? Who are you looking for?”

“A man named Wally Darling. He's a...” You hesitated, unsure how foreign this would be to her.

But she finished the sentence for you. “A corpse? Like you?”

You smiled bashfully. “Yes.”

The woman grinned even bigger. “Then it's a good thing I found you. He's from the same town as me.”

That jolt of excitement shot through you again. It seemed like the spell that Frank made for you worked like a charm. “Really? Can you take me there?”

“Of course.” She walked up to you, her stride small and with a noticeable limp, thought she didn't seem to be in pain. She held out her hand. “My name is Sally, by the way,” she said.

Another Sally, you thought. You shook her hand and introduced yourself. She nodded, then motioned to the side toward a tree with a door shaped like a jack-o-lantern in it. “We'll be heading to Halloween Town. This is the fastest way there,” she continued. She limped to the tree, turned the knob that was disguised as the jack-o-lantern's nose, and the door swung outward. You cautiously approached it and looked down into the hollow tree. There was nothing but darkness, and the door opened to a steep drop-off that you couldn't see the bottom of.

“I find it easiest to just close my eyes and jump,” she said. “I know it can be a bit intimidating sometimes, but I promise, it's perfectly safe. My husband and I come through here all the time.”

You swallowed, grabbed hold of the doorway, and shut your eyes. A gentle breeze blew through, carrying the comforting scent of fallen leaves and caramel apples. A smile crept onto your face, and you pulled yourself through the doorway and jumped.

There was only a second of free fall before you landed smartly on your rear end in a giant pile of leaves. You grunted and clambered to your feet.

Sally appeared beside you. “Are you alright? That happens a lot for first-timers.”

You straightened up and said, “Yeah, I'm fine. Not like I can get much worse.”

She giggled at that and motioned for you to follow her. You walked together down a dirt path that cut through the woods and she asked you about where you came from and how you got here. She was a good listener as you told her everything.

“How do you know Wally?” she asked.

“We, um...” Your face heated up and you found yourself fiddling with the band on your right hand. “It's a long story. Let's just say we're... old friends.”

“I see,” she said with a knowing look that made you blush more. But then she looked forward and said, “Here we are.”

You both crested a hill and looked down on an archway with “Halloween Town” spelled out in black, iron letters. A large town bustled with activity down below. The architecture was conflictingly made of a combination of twisting, curving lines and jagged, sharp angles, and the citizens seemed to enjoy and monochrome color palette with occasional splashes of bright color. You followed Sally down the path and entered the town.

You had to keep yourself from gawking when you saw the first couple of citizens gathered in the town square: a wolf man dressed in tattered flannel chatting with a bulking man dressed in overalls with an axe stuck in his head. They both gawked at you, though, when you came into a view.

“Look! Queen Sally has brought in someone new!” the wolf man exclaimed with a gravelly voice.

You glanced at her. “Queen Sally?”

She blushed. “Ah, yes, I didn't mention that. I'm the Pumpkin Queen.”

“Oh!” You fumbled and started to bow, but Sally stopped you.

“Please, don't. That's exactly why I don't go around announcing that to everyone. Just treat me like you would anyone else.”

You nodded. “Sorry.”

“And don't apologize, either.” She hooked her arm around yours and said, “Now, let's go find Wally.”

She led you away, but not before you noticed that a trio of women, (witches, you guessed, based on their clothes and pointed hats) had gathered around the wolf man and were whispering conspiratorially.

You hadn't gone far before you stumbled upon two more citizens: a man wearing a long trench coat and tall, thin top hat, and an even taller, thin, and gangly skeleton dressed in a pin-stripped suit with tails on his coat and a bat bowtie. They were both leaned over something on a table.

Sally perked up a bit beside you. “Oh, that's my husband over there. He may know where Wally is.” She waved her free hand and called, “Jack! Jack!”

The skeleton looked up and his face split into a wide, toothy grin. “Sally! Perfect timing! Mr. Hyde and I were just testing out his newest creation. Would you care to see?”

She nodded and walked to the table, where Jack presented her with a large, orange bowl of candy with a small sign taped to the front that read “Just Take One.”

“A seemingly normal bowl, yes? Perfectly welcoming to trick-or-treaters.”

“Of course,” she agreed.

“Go and take a piece. Just one.”

Sally did as he said a delicately picked up a wrapped piece of butterscotch. She waited a moment, then raised a brow at him. “Is that all?”

“Precisely, because you were good and only took one. Now, pretend you are a greedy trick-or-treater and try to grab a handful.”

Sally nodded and drove her hand into the bowl, grabbing a large handful of candy, when a ghostly hand jumped from within the depths of the bowl and grabbed her wrist. She gasped, startled, then laughed. “What fun!”

Jack clapped Mr. Hyde on the back. “You see? A brilliant idea! I knew you were an excellent choice for the knew town scientist. Well done!”

Mr Hyde chuckled, pleased with himself. “You flatter me, Jack.”

Sally gently tugged at Jack's arm and whispered to him. He looked at you and his eyes lit up. “Oh, my apologies! I was so caught up in my work, I hadn't noticed you there.” He swept into a low bow. “Jack Skellington, Pumpkin King and Co-Representative of Halloween.” He stood upright and draped an arm over Sally's shoulder. “And you've already met my wife and partner, Sally.” He looked you up and down, then beamed. “We don't get very many new faces, but you seem like you'll fit right in, here.”

You cleared your throat and said, “Actually, Mr. uh, Skellington—”

“Please, Jack is fine.”

“Jack,” you corrected, “I'm actually looking for someone. Wally Darling?”

He raised a brow and glanced at Sally, who only smiled up at him. “Your name wouldn't happen to be Y/N, would it?”

Your eyes widened. “Yes. Why?”

“He talks about you all the time. Oh, he'll be over the moon when he sees you!”

You could have sworn that your heart thudded hearing that, but that couldn't have been possible, could it?

Jack tilted his head and hummed. “I just saw him a moment ago. I may know where he is. Follow me!” He let go of Sally and strode away. You glanced at Sally and she nodded to you, urging you forward, then you jogged to follow the skeleton.

Jack led the way down a twisting cobblestone path that led out of the town and into farmland that mostly consisted of pumpkins. He led you through a graveyard and up a steep hill, and his long strides took him up the hill faster than you could keep up with. You couldn't run out of breath, anymore, but that didn't stop your muscles from aching as you hiked after him. As you reached the top of the hill, you could see another hill in the distance that made the shape of a spiral. As you took in the view, your gaze wandered from the massive spiral and down to the bottom where another there was another pumpkin patch.

You froze when you saw him. There was no mistaking him with his blue, patchwork skin and signature hair style. He wasn't wearing the wedding tuxedo anymore; now he donned a simple white shirt and blue striped pants. He was seated at a stool in the middle of the pumpkin patch with an easel in front of him, hard at work on a painting. You would have gasped if you still had breath, and your body moved before you completely comprehended what you were seeing.

Wally.

As you came closer, you could see that he was recreating the view of the spiral hill on his painting. His back was to you, and he hummed quietly as he worked, so deep in thought that he didn't notice you and Jack approaching until Jack called his name.

“Wally! I thought we'd find you here.” Jack leaned over Wally's shoulder and looked at the painting. “Ah, is this my commission? It's coming along swimmingly.”

All you saw was Wally's side profile as he smiled up at Jack. “Thank you. I'm just touching up a few details, right now. It should be finished in a day or so, when it dries.”

“It will be a wonderful anniversary gift. Sally will love it!”

Wally turned back to his painting, and Jack glanced at you like he'd just remembered you were there. “Actually, Wally, I needed to speak to you.”

“Hm?”

“It seems,” Jack said, putting his hand on Wally's shoulder, “that someone is here to see you.”

Wally gave Jack a confused look, then turned.

His eyes widened, and the paintbrush fell from his limp fingers.

Neither of you moved. His eyes trailed up and down your body. He stood, took a few hesitant steps forward, and said, “Y/N?”

You smiled. “Hello, Wally,” you said.

Jack was beaming.

Wally blinked, then shook his head. “I'm dreaming.”

You almost laughed. Your hands were shaking. “No, you're not.”

“I am. You... you can't be here. It's not possible.”

“Wally...”

“I'm going to open my eyes, and you'll be gone.”

You approached him, took his hand, and pressed it against your face. His eyes dilated and his mouth fell open.

“I'm here,” you whispered.

He studied your face, and his fingers trailed down your jaw and to your neck, where they found the stitches. He glanced at them, and his mouth opened wider. “Oh...” His other hand found your neck and he gently traced the stitches. He gently turned your head from side to side as he looked you over like he was just noticing the bluish tint your skin had taken, and his gaze fell on the stitches on your temple. “What happened?”

“A carriage accident.”

He covered his mouth. “Oh, no...”

You took his hand again. “It's alright. I don't remember anything.”

You noticed tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “I'm so sorry.”

You cupped his cheek. “Don't be. I'm alright.”

Jack coughed. “I believe you two will be wanting some time alone?” He leaned down and whispered to Wally, “I recommend the top of Spiral Hill. Very romantic spot.” He winked, and Wally started to blush.

“Thank you,” he mumbled before he gripped your hand tightly and led you toward Spiral Hill. You trudged to the top together, hand in hand, and you looked out over the view of the graveyard and pumpkin patch, grey and black with dots of orange.

Wally turned to you and took a tight hold of both your hands. “Tell me everything.”

You didn't speak, because with him holding your hands I noticed something for the first time. When you had met before, when you were still alive, whenever he touched you his skin was always freezing cold. Now it wasn't. You realized it was because we were the same temperature. It made you want to hold him closer.

“I already told you, I was in a carriage accident.”

“No, no. I mean... tell me about your life. What happened after I left?”

“You want me to tell you all of that? Right now?”

He nodded. “We have all the time in the world, now.”

You grinned, and then you did just that. You told him about your marriage to Howdy, the relationship you had formed, the good and bad times, and you told him that during those seven years, you never forgot him. You were afraid that he would be upset or sad when you told him about your marriage, but he seemed to be the contrary.

“I'm glad,” he said. “I was hoping I was making the right decision. It's good to know that you lived a good life after I was gone, even if... even if it was a short one.”

He had looked away, and you gently cupped his cheek so that he would look at you. “The others in the Land of the Dead said that the reason I stayed behind was likely because I had unfinished business. At first, I didn't know what they were talking about, but I think I do, now.” Despite building up to that, you suddenly became bashful and couldn't quite find the words.

Wally touched your hand on his face and leaned into it. “You were looking for me?”

You nodded. “The thing is... I missed y—”

He interrupted you by pressing his lips to yours.

He had only ever kissed you once before, that night on the bridge. You weren't sure if that even counted since you fainted when he did. You remembered being terrified back then, your stomach swirling and your heart thumping so hard and fast you thought you were about to have a heart attack. You remembered how cold his lips were, and how dizzy you were from the fear.

This was different. Obviously, you weren't afraid, now, but it was more than that. It was rushed and passionate, not the formal seal of the vows that Wally had done before. And it was warm. You still felt dizzy, though.

When he pulled away, you stared into each other's eyes for a moment, then you took his shoulders and pulled him back to you for another kiss. Your hand went to the back of his head and your fingers tangled into his soft hair. His hands trailed up and down your back. You gripped each other as if the second one of you let go, you'd be lost forever. You finally pulled away again when you heard the sound of an applause in the distance.

At the top of one of the nearby hills, a small crowd of monsters and ghouls had formed, and they were whooping and cheering. Jack and Sally stood at the center of the crowd, smiling up at you as Sally leaned into Jack's shoulder.

“So much for alone time,” you muttered. You turned back to Wally to see him beaming up at you. His eyes sparkled.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up into a twirl. You yelped in surprise and gripped his shoulders. He laughed heartily as he set you back down, then he leaned his forehead into yours, and for a moment you simply relished in each other's company.

“Thank you,” he said. “I've missed you, too. I know that I was selfish before, but I really am glad that you came to find me.”

You were surprised to feel your heart melting a bit when he said that—it seemed that even if your heart didn't beat anymore, it was still capable of swelling and melting with emotion.

The ring on your right hand glinted in the moonlight. A knot formed in your throat. “I think... I think I know what my unfinished business is, now.”

Wally tilted his head, curious.

You took the ring off your finger and held it up to him. “I want to try again. Properly, this time. Nothing in our way, and no interruptions. I want to give you the wedding you deserve.”

Wally's eyes widened a bit, then he chuckled and shook his head. “It was never just about the wedding, you know. I wanted true love. A happy ending.”

“Exactly,” you said. “I want to give you that. A big, beautiful ceremony to celebrate true love, and a real happily ever after.” You cleared your throat, suddenly nervous. “If you'd like that, I mean.”

He broke into a wide smile. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

You nodded. “Yes. Will you marry me? Again?”

He laughed again and pulled you into a hug. “Yes. If you will have me.”

You closed your eyes and leaned into the hug. “Of course I will.”

You finally pulled apart once again to slip the band on Wally's finger, right where it belonged.

A/N: Yes, I already know I'm cringe. Don't look at me.

#welcome home fanfic #corpse puppet au #wally darling x y/n #wally darling x reader #nightmare before christmas crossover #jack x sally

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callsignlucky · 2 years

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talk to me, lucky (part 1)

summary: You're Maverick’s kid. You’re also Bradley Bradshaw’s best friend—or at least, you were. What lies between you two now is uncharted territory.

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw/mitchell!reader

a/n: good morning aviators and welcome to my top gun brain rot. i liked this enough i decided to post it, its short and sweet (at least some of it is sweet), feedback would be greatly appreciated! i'm planning a few parts for this and it will remain in first person. your callsign is LUCKY. this also cross-posted on ao3 if that strikes anyone's fancy. (1.5k)

part 2 ->

My memories of Rooster started before he was Rooster.

Back then, he was just Bradley.

He was three when I was born, and according to my parents and Aunt Carole, he loathed me. We’re talking as much hate as a shaggy, blonde-haired three year old could muster. Refused to even look at me, detested when my father showed me the slightest amount of attention, and if Aunt Carole doted on me in the slightest, it was tummy to the ground fists on the carpet full-blown tantrum.

Of course, that lasted all about a month. After he got over the fact that he had to share the attention of the various grown ups in our lives, I had Bradley Bradshaw wrapped around my finger and it had been that way ever since.

We grew up together, three years apart yes but always attached at the hip. When I started walking, I stumbled my way over to Bradley on Christmas Day instead of into my father’s open arms.

When I lost my first tooth, Bradley was the first one I told, and we used the two dollars the tooth fairy left me to share an ice cream cone on the swing set in the backyard.

When Bradley started baseball, I insisted on being at every game, and no matter how long they lasted or how far away they were, I sat through each one and cheered for him louder than everyone.

Middle school started, and my second week of fourth grade, my mom died. Freak car accident, completely out of the blue, and Bradley—a sixth grader at the time but never too cool for me—was by my side through the entirety of it. He had experience in this area with Uncle Goose’s death, and despite him not remembering much, he knew the pain of waking up in the morning expecting both of your parents to be there, and then walking downstairs to find just the one. It was okay though—like Dad had stepped in to try to fill the role Uncle Goose left behind, Aunt Carole did the same with Mom. It was never really the same though, and everyone knew it.

Middle school melted into high school, where Bradley was a junior and I was a freshman. I was fully expecting the silent treatment on my first day, but Bradley intercepted me in the main hall after breaking away from his baseball friends and gave me a guided tour of the school before walking me to class. He kept up that morning tradition every day for the two years we went to high school together—he’d pick me up in his inherited Ford Bronco, we’d go get coffee and bagels, and he’d walk me to class.

After Bradley’s graduation ceremony was completed and all the friends and family had congregated outside, I waited anxiously for him between Dad and Aunt Carole. I saw a flash of blue and white before I was wrapped up in Bradley’s arms, squealing with delight as he hugged me tight and spun me around. One hand clutched the hem of my dress to keep myself decent while the other wrapped around his neck, and his smile was breathless as he shook his diploma excitedly in the air and credited his graduation on the hours I spent tutoring him in history. He was so handsome and so happy at that moment and I think that was the first time I really saw Bradley as something other than my best friend.

Those feelings only got worse during my junior year, when Bradley was visiting home for the fall.

Autumn in California was just like a really tame summer, and Bradley had really become a man in his two years of college. I hadn’t really noticed it before, or maybe I just wasn’t paying attention, or maybe it was the fact that, despite my father’s best efforts, I’d finally discovered boys. Either way, I could’ve died of heat stroke that afternoon when Bradley thought it would be fun to have a pool day with my dad and his mom. I insisted on studying instead of swimming, but my ability to focus on any textbook dissolved as soon as Bradley took off his shirt and dove into our pool. That night, I scolded myself for the thoughts that passed my mind, even though I’d asked Aunt Carole about them (leaving out they were about her son, obviously) and she’d said they were completely normal to have for a girl my age and to not be ashamed. But I was ashamed, because this wasn’t some boy, this was Bradley. My best friend since before I could even walk.

My graduation came along, and Bradley had made a special trip to surprise me for it. It was his first year in the Navy and Dad and Aunt Carole had lied to me, telling me he couldn’t get out of a deployment to attend. I was beyond crushed, until before the ceremony, when my best friend Fallon got my attention and I saw Bradley in the gym’s double doors, dressed in his dress whites and smiling at me like I hung the damn moon. I can’t remember ever being that excited as I ran across the gym in the stupid heels they’d made us wear, practically leaping into his arms and knocking his hat right off his head. The yearbook editor managed to snap a photo of our interaction, and it was the biggest one on the graduation spread.

It wasn’t long after my graduation that everything fell apart.

Aunt Carole had been sick for a while, and died two months later. Dad donned his dress whites for the second time in the same year, and it rained for the first time in California since I was sixteen. I held Bradley’s hand the entire time, just like he’d held mine when we laid my mother to rest. He had stayed stoic during the service, up until the moment before they took his mother’s body away to transport to the cemetery. I let go of Bradley’s hand long enough to say goodbye to the woman who’d stepped up when I needed her most and guided me through my formative years. I kissed her on the forehead, and tucked a little stuffed goose into her casket. When I turned back to Bradley, he had lost his composure, and the rest of the funeral attendees had to wait twenty minutes for us to arrive at the cemetery so they could put Aunt Carole in the ground next to her husband, the father Bradley barely knew.

Two months later, Bradley and my father’s relationship crumbled. Dad made a promise that was completely unfair to Bradley, and as a result he had his papers pulled from the Naval Aviation Academy. Dad would’ve never told Bradley his mother had asked him to do that, it would’ve destroyed him, so he took all the blame. And to be truthful, Dad was selfish in doing it too. I knew what had happened to Uncle Goose. I knew how close he and Dad and Uncle Ice were, I knew how hard it was when the accident in the air took Uncle Goose’s life. Dad hadn’t let go or forgiven himself for it since it happened, despite it not being his fault. I knew he couldn’t bear the thought of losing Bradley in the same way he lost his best friend, and he was more than willing to let Bradley hate him forever so long as he was alive to do it. I remember the sound of the front door slamming the last time I saw Bradley. I was nineteen years old, halfway through my first year in college, and I watched from the bay window in my bedroom as Bradley peeled out of our driveway in his father’s old Bronco.

What my father didn’t understand was that we’d just lost Bradley, and he wasn’t even dead. That’s what made it hurt worse.

As I stood frozen to my spot in Penny Benjamin's bar in North Island, my eyes upon Bradley Bradshaw for the first time since he’d stormed out of our lives ten years ago, those memories flooded back in.

He wasn’t Bradley anymore, he was Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, callsign Rooster, and the sentiment of it had my heart twisting. He was here for the same deployment I was, he was a pilot, the same as I was—he was a Lieutenant, the same as I was. We weren’t children anymore, but as I watched him catch sight of me and pull his aviators off his face, I couldn’t help the teenage to young adult anger of those years I spent without him fill me to my core. Even worse, he sauntered up to me without hesitation, like he hadn’t abandoned me because of something my father did.

He was all smiles and I couldn’t help it. With my father across the bar no doubt watching our every move and our new team standing within spitting distance, six pilots whose respect and trust we needed to earn before our mission in three weeks, I raised my hand and slapped Bradley Bradshaw across the face.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw #top gun #rooster top gun #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw #rooster/reader #jake hangman seresin #tom iceman kazansky #penny benjamin #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw/reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw/reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #mavdad #pete mitchell #pete maverick mitchell

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loserdiaz · 1 year

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can this be a real thing, can it?

buck, eddie and chris go to a baseball game. it doesn't go as planned... it goes so much better. | 695 words.

Baseball is Eddie's favorite sport. He used to play back in highschool, it was one of the things Eddie truly enjoyed where he didn't care about his parents expectations or anything else.

He's never been to a big game, though. Of course he dad wouldn't waste money on that and then Eddie was in the army, and then he was coming home with his bullet wounds now etched into his body, Shannon left— a lot of things happened. Getting tickets for a baseball game never even crossed his mind.

But one day Buck comes into the Diaz house, screaming and cheering like Christmas morning came early. Buck bought tickets for a baseball game, just because knows Eddie likes it and— well, how is Eddie supposed to be normal about that? How is Eddie supposed to just not fall even more in love with the adorable, charming idiot?

And then they're at the game, Buck has this happy little smile on his face and his stupid backwards baseball cap. And he's leaning down to a side, so he can explain to Chris every little detail about the game and the players.

It's so— Eddie can't be normal about it, okay? It's too domestic and too close to what he wants foe him to be normal about it.

"Wow." Chris says, eyes following the ball. Eddie likes that his son gets to have this experience, that they're at a baseball game together.

Like a family. His brain unhelpfully supplies.

"Did you know there's a baseball player who only had one arm?" Buck says and Chris immediately starts asking questions. Eddie already knows all of this but he doesn't mind hearing the story of Jim Abbot again. He'd hear it a thousand times, he'd hear it for the rest of his life if it meant hearing Buck's voice.

Eddie just basks in the moment, happy to seat back and watch the game as two of his favorite people talk about anything and everything.

They're like a family. It's so domestic and perfect that he aches with how much he wants this to be real.

Eddie is a little distracted by how good Buck looks and how good he is with Chris. If he's being honest, he's barely watching the game— which he'll probably regret later. And he is brought by reality when the ball nearly hits him in the face, Buck's hand coming out of nowhere and catching it just before it hits Eddie.

The crowd around him goes wild and Chris is yelling the loudest, while Buck blinks and slowly a smile breaks, showing his dimples.

"Oh, God."

Buck lifts Chris up, giving him the ball and it's— Eddie looks around and realizes everyone think they're a family. They think—

"Dad, look!"

Everyone thinks they're a family and now they're faces are on the kiss cam. Everyone cheering for Buck and Eddie to kiss, because they think they're in love.

They think they're a couple.

Eddie hearts beat rapidly in his chest and he turns to look at Buck next to him.

The blonde has blushes cheeks and his lips are parted, wide blue eyes looking at Eddie with fear and hope— or is that wishful thinking?

Maybe it's the adrenaline suddenly rushing through his veins, maybe it's the thousands of strangers cheering him on, maybe it's the love and hope that he's sure he sees in Buck's eyes. Maybe it's a combination of all those things, but Eddie leans in and softly kiss the corner of Buck's lips.

It barely counts as a kiss, it's chaste and short. But it's enough.

"Later." He whispers low enough just for Buck to hear him.

Later they'll talk, once they're alone and Christopher isn't in the middle. Once they're in the privacy of their home and the warmth glow of the kitchen shines a light over them. Later Eddie will lean in and kiss Buck for real, press him against the kitchen counter and murmur all of his feelings into Buck's lips.

Later, they'll get their moment.

"Yeah, later." Buck answers back and then they're back to focusing on the game, matching soft and hopeful smiles adorning their faces. They're on the same page.

#don't ask me what this is #someone mentioned buck taking chris to a baseball game and next thing i know i'm writing this #eddie diaz #evan buckley #evan buck buckley #buck x eddie #buddie #christopher diaz #911onabc #911 on fox #buddie drabble #911 drabble #ficlet #my writing #april writes #buddie fic #911 fic

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integra1127grimmreaper · 4 months

Text

Mr. Grinch (Joel Miller)

Joel Miller Masterlist

Warning: swearing, fluff

Summary: A little Christmas story inspired by Lindsey Stirling's version of - You're A Mean One, Mr. Grinch.

Mr. Grinch... that was what everyone had nicknamed Joel after just one day in Jackson last year, when he and Ellie had first set foot in the community last winter. Now, one year later, and another winter in yet the nickname still stuck. You found the entire thing to be quite amusing; yes, Joel could be grumpy and sometimes comes off as just plain mean, but there were good, loyal qualities to him, ones that only those dearests to him were witness to. So, that's why to make lightly of the nickname, you had decided to do something fun about it in the annual Christmas eve pageant.

You had come across an old burlesque record sometime back, the beat of the music perfect for what you had planned. Your outfit; a cute red winter dress, green tights and Santa hat.

The pageant was taking place in the mess hall, as the Christmas eve community dinner was to be taking place immediately thereafter. A small stage had been erected in the hall, with tablets setup for all to enjoy the show and dinner after.

The hall rang out with whistles and cheers when you made your way to stage, everyone soon quiets down, and the music begins to play.

You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch You really are a heel You're as cuddly as a cactus As charming as an eel, Mr. Grinch You're a bad banana with a greasy black peel

The room was eerily silent as you comically performed on stage whilst singing; everyone knew exactly where you were going with the chosen song. You on the other hand, were having a field day with it, as people's eyes kept jumping back and forth between you and the table you were clearly trained on during the entire performance.

You're a monster, Mr. Grinch (Mr. Grinch) Your heart's an empty hole Your brain is full of spiders You've got garlic in your soul, Mr. Grinch

You're a vile one, Mr. Grinch (Mr. Grinch) You have termites in your smile You have all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile, Mr. Grinch Now given the choice between the two of you I'd take the seasick crocodile Seasick crocodile

"Shit, it's you!" Ellie bawls out in realization, but you continue like nothings amiss. Everyone nervously stares back at the table as she chuckles out loudly then.

"The song is about you, Joel! You're Mr. Grinch!"

"Now, Ellie... don't be looking for trouble where there ain't none" Tommy attempts to neutralize the situation before things got out of hand.

"Nuh-uh..." Ellie retorts with a stiff head shake, hollering out then.

"See! I fuckin' told you! She just winked at him!"

The sounds of gasps ringing out at her words, as everyone braced themselves for your impending demises at the hands of the man you were clearly referring to in the song. He, on the other hand sat dangerously silent, as his dark narrowed gaze remained fixed on you as the performance continues.

"Ellie..." Tommy drawls out in annoyance, and then it happened.

"She blew him a kiss!" Ellie screams, griping onto Joel's shoulder; shaking him back and forth in excitement.

"Wait. What?" an open-mouthed Tommy stares at you on the stage.

The words that best describe you are stink, stank, stunk (Ooh) No, no, no Stink, stank, stunk Oh, Mr. Grinch Mr. Grinch...

The music ends and the room is filled with nothing but awkward silence, Tommy silently eyes Joel; preparing himself to have to stop his brother from strangling you in front of the entire Jackson community. Ellie then jumps out from her seat and starts cheering loudly and you chuckle out, taking a dramatic bow.

"Now, Joel..." Tommy attempts to divert his attention away from you as you step down from the stage.

Everyone sat with bated breath as you made your way toward Joel's table with a cocky smirk plastered on your lips.

"Joel" Tommy warns, jumping up to stop him when he gets up, but Ellie and Maria hold him back.

"What hell are ya two doing?!"

"Wait" Maria remarks as you and Joel meet each other in the centre of the room.

Placing a hand on your hip and cocking your head to the side; you smirk at him whilst striking a pose.

"Hey there, Mr. Grinch..."

Joel's eyes narrow to tight slits as he silently grinds his teeth whilst staring down at you for a second. Silent gasps ring out when he steps closer to you, reaching out to take the Santa hat off your head; Joel plops it onto his own, a broad smirk spreads across his lips as he pulls you flushed against him.

"Hi, Baby..." Joel drawls, tipping down to capture your lips in a deep kiss.

"What the fuck...?!" Tommy voice rings out, along with loudly gasps of surprise.

"Knew they were fucking long before this, FYI..." Ellie remarks smugly, causing both Tommy and Maria to scowl at her disapprovingly.

"What?" she shrugs at them.

"He's always looking at her all-googly-eyed... and she's even worse. Also caught him from my bedroom window; sneaking out of her house and back home in the early hours of the morning when no one's awake."

Joel and you chuckle into each other's mouths at her words, resting your foreheads against one another's with broad smiles.

You had your suspicious of her knowledge, but both had decided to keep your relationship a secret till now. Finally deciding after four months that it was time to make it public, as a matter of fact; it was Joel who had come with the idea of your performance when you had let him in on the town nickname for him.

What the residents didn't know; was that even with only one good ear, Joel had still managed to pick up on the word 'Grinch' being softly uttered whenever he was around. He wasn't too keen on it at first, not till you had told him that you found it to be a cute name for him. That 'How The Grinch Stole Christmas' had been one of your favorite Christmas movies as a child. That in the end Mr. Grinch wasn't as bad as everyone believed him to be just lonely and misunderstood, with a heart of gold hidden underneath all that grumpiness, just as your Joel.

When you playfully performed the Mr. Grinch song for him, Joel found it utterly amusing and that's how you came to be performing it tonight. Proving to everyone that your Mr. Grinch wasn't as bad as everyone believed him to be.

"C'mon Baby..." Joel slings his arm around your shoulder and directing you towards the table.

"Lead the way, Mr. Grinch..." you pat his ass affectionally, causing him to chuckle yet again as the rest of Jackson stared at the two of you weirdly.

#joel miller #joel x reader #joel x you #the last of us #joel tlou #pedro pascal

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undreaming-fanfiction · 1 year

Text

Alone on Christmas

1986 wasn't kind to Wayne Munson, even after the strange phenomena following the earthquake settled down and life slowly returned to Hawkins. It didn't matter where he was, if the house was new, if the street was vastly different from the trailer park - he would still see Eddie standing in his kitchen, boiling water for any leftover tea bags they had because the heating wasn't exactly willing and they would wrestle for the last pair of clean warm socks. He would catch a glimpse of a head of dark curls outside and lose his breath, his mind conjuring up an image of his nephew's mischievous grin before it dissolved, revealing a foreign face. A song on the radio that Eddie loved and used to blast throughout the trailer, a leather jacket in a shop window, a forgotten poster calling for Eddie's lynching...the town was unforgiving, even if there was nothing to forgive. Any grieving was difficult, Wayne was no stranger to it, but grieving while not being to talk about who you missed because people refused to believe the person Eddie was...it was a new and imaginative kind of torture. Wayne wasn't a social creature, but he'd never felt so utterly and thoroughly alone.

And if the year itself was painful, Wayne's first Christmas without Eddie hurt beyond belief. The traditions made no sense with Eddie gone, just empty gestures, sparkle with nothing underneath. Of course, Wayne knew that Eddie would have wanted him to celebrate, the boy was kind and ridiculously fond of Christmas even at his age. But even after the kid from Eddie's club, Dustin Henderson, visited Wayne and kept him company before excusing himself for a Christmas dinner with his mother, Wayne just couldn't conjure up a single spark of the festive spirit. After fighting to keep down two mouthfuls of store bought turkey and leaving his hot chocolate untouched long enough to go cold, he gave up. Grabbing his jacket and car keys, Wayne walked out of the door.

He didn't exactly plan where to go, but his body had known the destination long before his brain did. The drive itself was a blur and yeah, it wasn't really safe, the streets of Hawkins were covered with snow and it was already dark, but everyone who had something to live for was inside, sharing food and laughter, so the town might have looked deserted had it not been for the twinkling lights in the windows.

As for Wayne, he found himself in front of the Hawkins cemetery.

With the unbelievable amount of tragedy Hawkins had seen in previous years, it was no surprise that there were candles lit up on the graves, flowers, small presents. For the better or for the worse, people of Hawkins remembered, came to see their loved ones before retreating into the warmth of their own homes. In the dark, the cemetery was quiet and deserted.

Or almost.

At first, Wayne thought he must have been imagining things, but the closer he got to Eddie's gravestone, the more obvious it became that he wasn't the only one who decided that Christmas cheer just wouldn't do it. In the quiet of the snowy evening, the walkman hung over the slab of stone with Eddie's name sounded much louder, almost like a speaker. He couldn't tell the name of the song, but the voice sounded familiar - Dio, he recalled, one of Eddie's favorites. And in the front of the grave, on a thin blanket that must have done nothing to protect from the cold, sat a familiar figure. Steve Harrington.

Wayne knew Steve well enough, he saw him at the graveyard, at the relief center, driving the kids around. He also found him once knocking on his door past midnight, on one of Wayne's rare days off, and spent one of the strangest nights of his life sitting down with him, talking, Steve fidgeting and looking around with panicked eyes. But the boy was determined and slowly, almost apologetically, he told Wayne what exactly happened with Eddie, with Hawkins. "I know it sounds insane, I know it's too much and I'm putting both of us in danger, sir. But you deserve to know. Not some kind of a cover up story they will eventually tell you. You deserve to know what happened to Eddie. I used to think keeping everyone safe was a priority, that maybe it would help if we didn't think about it, but...yeah. You can stop me any time and I'll leave, no questions asked." But Wayne never stopped him and now he knew everything. It was a small consolation and the truth did nothing to soothe his anger and grief, but at least he had the full picture.

And now Steve Harrington was sitting in front of Eddie's gravestone - not a grave, no body to be buried, yet another stake through Wayne's heart - as Dio's voice broke through the silence of the night. He was grasping a mug of hot chocolate, another one leaning against the cool slab of granite, and somehow he even secured a tiny plastic tree, with small baubles and a tiny star at the top. Wayne's throat suddenly felt even tighter.

Steve's shoulders jerked when he heard the crunching of snow under Wayne's feet. He tried to get up, but his legs must have been cold and he fumbled with the fabric, almost crashing into Wayne in the process. "Shit. Sorry, sir, I just-!"

Wayne's large hands grasped his shoulders, stabilizing him. "Easy, boy. And I've told you before, it's Wayne. You happen to have a free spot on that blanket of yours?"

The boy still looked shaken, but he quickly nodded and smoothed out the blanket to allow both of them to fit. It was uncomfortable, way too cold and frankly depressing, but the silence between them felt right. Steve unscrewed the cap off his thermos flask (so that's how he kept the chocolate warm!) and handed it to Wayne. Unlike the cup still waiting on his table at home, Wayne sipped this one and actually enjoyed it.

After a few more minutes of shared quiet and listening to the finishing tones of Holy Diver, Wayne cleared his throat. "Nice tree you got there. You even got the colors right. Eddie loves...loved," he corrected himself, one of the worst habits he'd picked up recently, "the red and gold combo."

"I know." Steve's voice was strained, quiet. "I mean, I didn't know, originally...but I talked to Gareth. You know, the guy who played drums in Eddie's band? He told me...a lot. Well, I also asked a lot, so it's fair. I wanted..." his words trailed off, uncertain. "I guess I wanted to do something nice for him. Even if it's too late."

Wayne smiled into his hot chocolate. "My boy would still appreciate it. I sure do." Looking at the small twinkling tree, he sniffed, maybe not from the cold. "Hell, you did more for him than I did today - I just wanted to see him, easy as that, but you had the whole thing planned. I didn't...I didn't even get him a present."

The shuffling next to him surprised him enough to suppress the bitterness creeping up his throat. When he turned to Steve, the boy was holding a tiny wrapped package. "It can be from you then," he said, dropping the present into his gloved hand. "I didn't know where to set it, thought the snow would ruin the paper, but...maybe you can unwrap it on Eddie's behalf?"

Fucking depressing indeed. But also warm, so terrifyingly warm.

Steve watched as Wayne removed his gloves with his teeth. "Okay, Eddie. Let's see what Santa brought you," he muttered and tore off the paper, revealing a red D20. He glanced at Steve and they both started chuckling at once, finally easing some of heavy atmosphere.

"Dustin said this was like, Eddie's thing. He'd carry them in his pockets all the time" said Steve and swept aside some of the snow so Wayne could set the die down, under the tree.

"Oh you have no idea." Wayne was putting the glove back on and returning to his hot chocolate. Stupid December. "He'd leave those things lying everywhere. Ever stepped on one of these when you've just woken up? That hurts."

They were laughing again, watching the steam rising from Eddie's cup of hot chocolate. It would be cold soon.

But eventually, Wayne had to ask. He turned towards Steve, touched his shoulder. "Not that I don't appreciate the company, Steve, but...why are you here?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line, clenched his jaw. But Wayne knew when to push and when to wait.

Eventually, the silence got to Steve, made him desperate to break it. "I told you. I wanted...I wanted to do something nice for him. So I came here."

Wayne shook his head. The grip on Steve's shoulder never wavered and the boy didn't shake him off. "I get that. You're a good kid, Steve. But no one should be alone on Christmas Eve."

He didn't have to look to tell that Steve's lips were trembling, his breathing uneven. "But Eddie is," he whispered. Then, louder, more stubborn. He met Wayne's eyes. "You are."

If that truth didn't hurt. But Wayne couldn't bring himself to be mad, to flinch at another stab into his heart. Twisting on the blanket, he pulled Steve into a hug. He didn't give many and received even less, but maybe Steve needed it. Maybe they both did. By the ease with which Steve let himself be pulled forward, with the firm grip of Wayne's arms, it was hard to dispute.

"I know, Steve," he muttered against his shoulder. "We're both alone and it sucks, it sucks so much, but there's nothing we can do about it. And you don't have to tell me why you're not with your parents, girlfriend, friends, anyone...but making yourself miserable won't bring Eddie back. It wouldn't make him happy." Patting Steve's heaving back, he continued, staring into the night sky. "You know, if he was here, he'd probably yell at us both. And then he'd have us both drive home and warm up before we lose a limb or two."

Steve chuckled into his thick winter coat. "Not sure about it. He wasn't my biggest fan...until the last week. But even then, I think he'd enjoy watching me squirm a bit."

"Maybe so," said Wayne and glanced at Eddie's name on the gravestone. "But there's one thing I know about my boy, Steve. He saw people for real, how they felt. He just had a knack for it, he could see when you were lonely and that was when he was the loudest, most annoying. If he saw you like this, I don't believe for a second he'd enjoy it. He'd probably annoy the hell out of you to snap you out of it, then adopt you like a puppy or somethin'."

They were laughing again, the sound so foreign that Wayne couldn't believe it was coming from his own mouth.

They would have probably stayed there much longer, but the cassette finished playing and clicked loudly, drawing their attention. Wayne let Steve go, but not too far. He might have not been able to save his own boy, but maybe the adoption thing ran in the family. "Hey, Steve. Could you help me with a thing?"

The boy nodded immediately, not taking a single second to think. "Sure thing, sir- I mean Wayne. What is it?"

Wayne took a good look at him. Even in the darkness of the graveyard, in the flickering light of a candle he kept lit on Eddie's grave, he could see the circles under Steve's eyes, the haunted look he'd seen so many times in Vietnam and after. The lines in his face that weren't supposed to be there. "I have a turkey at home that needs eating. It's not good, mind you, but I hate wasting food."

Steve's mouth hung open. "I...I couldn't possibly..."

But Wayne was already rising to his feet, extending his arm to help Steve up too. "Na-ah, Steve. You already agreed. Now help this old man. I also have some more hot chocolate at home, pretty sure what we have here is still chocolate, but definitely not hot."

He saw how Steve's eyes traveled to the gravestone, the tree, the die underneath. The nearly cold mug. He took a deep breath, then another one. And nodded. "Of course. Let me just pack the blanket."

Wayne smiled and pulled him upwards. "Let me help, son." The word slipped from his mouth, almost automatic, but it wasn't just a phrase. Like this whole meeting, it felt right.

As they shook snow off the blanket, the baubles on Eddie's Christmas tree gleamed, like his smile.

#wayne munson #steve harrington #stranger things ficlet #stranger things #eddie munson #possible implied steddie if you squint #or just grieving if that's better for you #angst #but also warm-ish?#yeah I made myself sniffle #christmas fic

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mountttmase · 24 days

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Teaser would be nice to cheer us up if you don’t mind

Ollie was at a friend's house for dinner and after all of you had eaten, you were cuddled up on the sofa with Mason, Tilly nestled in between you watching her show quietly. Her head on Mason's chest as you watched whatever was on the tv with her but soon enough Tilly was ready for a biology lesson.

‘Daddy, how did the baby get in mummy’s belly?’ she asked, her head tilting up to look at him but as soon as you looked up you could see the panic written all over his face.

‘Yeah, how did it happen, Mase?’ You teased wanting to know how he’d worm his way out of this one but you could see he was hating every second of this. Sending you a what the fuck face before looking back down at Tilly who was waiting patiently for him to explain.

‘Okay, so you know how you write a letter to Santa at Christmas?’ He started, Tilly nodding excitedly and you could see the cogs turning in his brain, wondering where the hell he was going with this but let him carry on. ‘Well, when two people who love each other very much want a baby, they write a letter to the stork and then you have to bury it in the garden so they can come and pick it up’

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hotreadingwitch · 4 months

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MADE TO LIE - the epilogue

“UNCLE STEVE!” 3-year-old Rebecca practically screeched as her favourite uncle lifted her up into a tight, spinning hug.

The little girl beamed as she was then smothered in kisses by her two aunts Natasha and Wanda. Sam hugged her too, patting her affectionately on her wavy mass of brunette hair that she got from her dad.

“Come in, come in,” Bucky gestured for them to move to the living room where the large, decorated tree was glistening with festive light.

“Don’t forget about the little one” Y/n joked from the couch at the crew of her friends, her family, that had just arrived for the morning’s celebrations.

The four came over immediately all cooing at the newborn who was wrapped in a light pink blanket. Wanda poked at the sweet thing’s cheek, giggling as it jiggled, bouncing from the slight pressure.

“Hi Stevie,” Steve said softly, his eyes glistening as he took the small baby from Y/n, rocking her in his arms. Y/n sighed with relief, her heart full as she took in the warm scene taking place before her. Bucky planted a distracted kiss on her cheek before hugging Sam, Natasha, and Wanda in greeting, wishing them all happy holidays as he did.

Over the last six years of being together, Y/n had discovered that Bucky was rarely as happy as he was during the annual holiday. Some people hated it, overly concerned with finding the perfect presents or completely stressed about one thing or another. She figured it was such a memorable day for him because he had spent so many of them as a child with Steve and his family. Though Y/n didn’t have as many sweet memories of the day from her childhood with her father and his group of criminals, the day was forever changed for her as, exactly four years ago, Bucky had proposed to her at Tony’s holiday party. Their friends had cheered for them and their future as they kissed under the mistletoe, never wanting to break apart.

This Christmas, like each one they’d had together thus far, was bound to be a special one. It was little Stevie Jr’s first Christmas and Rebecca's third but it was also the first time Bucky and Y/n were hosting the special day at their house with their small group of chosen family. The old Brooklyn apartment resisted the December cold, the lit fireplace thankfully keeping them all toasty and warm as they settled in for the merry day. The smell of fresh gingerbread instantly brought Y/n back from the reel of memories that were playing in her head.

“…” Beatka cheered as she bustled into the living room, bearing cookies.

Sam and Wanda practically dived for the warm baked goods making the rest laugh at their antics. Y/n grabbed one as well, splitting it in half and helping Rebecca into her high chair to eat it.

“Thank you Mama” the toddler expressed her gratitude.

Y/n caressed her hair, helplessly affectionate when it came to the little girl only to feel Bucky’s hand on her back, rubbing gentle circles, releasing all her tension. She gazed up at him, helplessly affectionate when it came to him too. The kiss she placed on his lips was chaste and yet Rebecca's small "ew” was loud, making them break apart just to laugh, blush tinting their cheeks.

~ Later that night ~

Y/n snuggled closer to the mound of warmth beneath her as she woke from a short but deep sleep, her holiday dress slightly crumpled. A smooth, jazzy melody flitted through her consciousness as she yawned. Propping herself up onto her elbow she looked over to see a record spinning on the old player next to Bucky’s impressive vinyl collection.

The stars are aglow. And tonight how their light sets me dreaming. My love, do you know? That your eyes are like stars brightly beaming?

“I think I maybe had too much of that spiked egg nog doll” Bucky’s low rumbling voice reverberated in her ears, breaking her away from her sleepy trance.

She laughed through the brain fog that came from sleep, tilting her head upward to capture his lips in a small kiss, one that quickly deepened into something more.

“Can I ask you something?” Y/n questioned when they finally broke apart.

“You know you can” was Bucky’s easy reply.

“Will you dance with me?”

A low, rumbling laugh sounded in his chest as he pulled her up to stand before him, taking her hands and placing them behind his neck. It was moments like this where Y/n felt most connected to Bucky, both his present and his past. They stood swaying to the music, allowing the lyrics and the sweet melody to caress them as their hands did the same, playing over each other’s skin.

I bring you and sing you a moonlight serenade. Let us stray, till break of day in love’s valley of dreams.

“You’re good at this” she flushed beneath his warm gaze. “Do you ever miss it?”

“Miss what?”

“The 40s”

“I miss who I was but even then, not fully because I like who I’ve become…” he paused, taking a breath as if pondering the right thing to say, “And I miss the dancing”

His lighter tone encouraged Y/n to smile and ask, “Show me?”

He swayed her forward and back, side to side, even dipping her at one point, balancing her weight easily. His callused palms ran across her arms, making her shiver as his hips and feet did the majority of the work for both of them. But what she noticed the most was his expression. It was the softest she’d ever seen him look, exposed by the gentle moonlight streaming through the tall window and the glow of the Christmas tree behind them.

“I love that song” Y/n whispered as the melody reached its natural conclusion.

And I sing you a song in the moonlight, a love song, my darling. A moonlight serenade…

She smiled to herself before humming it from the beginning, allowing them to continue to dance, Bucky swinging her gently along. He matched her voice, his baritone one melding together with her higher tone. It truly was a serenade, a moment of vulnerability for them both as they danced beneath the celestial light that shone brightly down on all of Brooklyn.

“I love you” she whispered into his chest like a secret.

He tilted her chin up to look at him, his gaze fond and real, “I love you too doll”

Bucky Barnes was not a man who opened up easily, so Y/n’s responding kiss was her way of saying she was honoured. She was honoured that in the end, he’d trusted her, that he’d cared for her, that he had chosen love—their love— above self-destruction. This was not to say that Y/n hadn’t made the same hard choice. She too had to overcome her most negative thoughts, her learned behaviours, and her traumas to be with him. Some days they struggled but mostly they lived in love, appreciating the life that they’d built. She beamed at the thought that in their shared pain they both had found something worth fighting for.

requested account tags: cjand10 identity2212 bucky-jbb-sunshine unaxv hnnhbananananana @differenttyphoonwerewolf

#fanfiction #fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #mcu #mcu fanfiction #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #james buchanan barnes #happy ending #romance

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tracybirds · 4 months

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I love Christmas time, and I am writing allllll the fic for it :D Here be the start of the main thing I've been working on! Many thanks to @gumnut-logic for reading through! I hope you're all having a very happy end to your year with love and laughter and good cheer <3

[Day 1 - you are here] | [Day 2] | [Day 3]

Five Days Where Christmas Didn't Seem To Go As Planned

Day One

The villa had been in a state of disarray for weeks in the lead up to Christmas. Rescues didn’t stop for any holiday, and with half the world flocking to ski resorts and snowboarding towns, International Rescue had been kept busy.

Scott hardly minded though, not that now the Christmas decorations were finally up. He checked the date on his comm and smiled. With record time to enjoy it too, it would seem.

Festive streamers hung from the ceiling; red, white and green, matching the candy canes and other sweet treats Gordon had scattered around the room. Scott could even see a few tell-tale stripes of peppermint added to the Christmas tree that Kayo and Alan had chosen. Reportedly, they’d fussed and argued for over three hours over the height, the bushiness and finding that perfect shade of green.

Scott was only grateful that John had called him away moments before the family left the island to make the big decision.

Tinsel and matching ornaments hung on its branches, that Virgil had arranged and rearranged by until the perfect balance between eye-catching sparkle and soft greenery had been found.

Along the walls were Brains and John’s contribution; flickering holograms of stars, trees, bursts of holly, reindeer – a projection of a perfect Christmas scene straight out of a storybook. Scott couldn’t help but grin to see a new style of hologram had joined them. It was EOS’s first attempt and although clumsy in comparison, the geometric patterns she’d coded and brought to life held a joy of her very own.

Central to the design were the Christmas stockings, neatly attached to the fire well. Even Lady Penelope and Parker had one, ready and waiting for Christmas morning when they would join the family.

The decorations brought a warm glow that enveloped the villa, and Scott stepped back, surveying the living room with a critical eye.

“It looks great, Scott,” said Jeff, looking almost as pleased as Scott felt. “Much nicer than the chicken scratch I had to make do with out there.”

Scott felt his smile grow fixed, the air catching in his lungs at Jeff’s offhand mention of his long ordeal in space. For the first few months, no-one had dared reference the Oort Cloud at all, tiptoeing around the subject until Jeff had put his foot down. Despite the nonchalance, Scott had noticed his father was reluctant to speak of the place directly and he couldn’t help but imagine the endless dark that had accompanied Jeff.

“Thanks, Dad,” he said, forcing himself to speak. “I... well, thanks.”

Jeff looked at him closely.

“You did a good job,” he said slowly. “You’ve done a good job…”

He trailed off, as he often did nowadays, his eyes sliding off Scott and far away. Scott followed his gaze to the window, out beyond the watery pool lights and into the night.

Jeff shook himself slightly, his eyes refocused on the room in front of him again. “Sorry, Scott, got lost in my own head again,” he said. His brusque tone dismissed any attempt of concern, but did nothing to ease the turbulence in Scott’s own mind.

Jeff turned abruptly, and began to stride out of the room. He paused only once, his fingers resting lightly on the string of Christmas lights near the door.

“Do you remember those lights from when you were small? How strange that even Christmas lights are completely different.”

Then he left before Scott could say a word.

Scott gaped, his mind racing.

It seemed no matter how fast he turned things over in his mind, it wasn’t enough, his thoughts kept getting swallowed by the inky black that nearly swallowed him if it hadn’t been for his dad, and no-one was there to catch his dad for all those eight years, but Scott could do this now for him.

He didn’t really remember putting through the call to John but something must have convinced him because a few short minutes later he was flying over the Pacific.

The trip to the ranch and back went smoothly, and an hour later, Scott held his prize in his hands. He lugged the old box back up to the living room, smiling at the imperfect crafts that had served as their family Christmas decorations of yesteryear.

The pine cones dipped in silver and gold he placed in a bowl in the centre of the coffee table, the reindeer made of clothes pegs he propped up around them. There were paper snowflakes and popcorn kernels in a jar with some needles and thread, there was colourful card for the annual paper chain competition, there were woollen ornaments that Scott could remember his mother making with her friends on the cold, dark winter nights when Jeff was travelling to a new world. There was even an old Advent calendar in the shape of a tree that their Grandpa had made, numbers carved by hand into each wooden box.

And right at the bottom, wrapped up in a neat coil were the Christmas lights they’d hung over the fireplace.

A whiff of stale cinnamon and pine floated from the box and Scott staggered slightly, for a moment six years old on the other side of the globe. The lights were soft and warm, the long bulbs twisting over each other and twinkling brightly in the night. The long December nights were no more, not in this part of the world, but Scott still remembered how endless it felt, how the sharp, cold of daytime was never enough to push back the darkness.

It was nothing next to the endless nothing of the universe, but the Christmas lights had helped, and Scott knew that they’d help now. He found an old extension cord, scrabbling behind the sofas for the nearest power point and plugged them in.

Nothing happened.

Scott’s face fell.

Of course, the box had been jostled so often over the years, of course one of the bulbs had fallen out of alignment.

He sat down with a sigh, his back against his father’s desk, and began to check for loose bulbs.

“Now those, I haven’t seen in a long while,” said Grandma Tracy quietly, and Scott jumped.

“Grandma!”

“Oh hush, you’re halfway under Jeff’s desk. I can’t help sneaking up if you’re the one hiding.”

“I’m not hiding,” said Scott defensively.

“Then what are you doing, kid? And where’d you find these old things anyway?”

“At the ranch.”

Grandma Tracy paused for a moment, then slid to the ground next to him. Without a word, she untangled the other end of the coil and began to methodically check the lights with him.

“You’d better hope that’s all it is, a loose bulb,” she said. “If one’s blown, I’m not sure they make this kind anymore. It’s all LEDs and the like these days.”

“We’d make it work. Brains could solder the ends of something.”

“Hmm,” was all she said.

Together they worked in silence, one step closer with every twist.

“What made you go and get these, Scott?”

He shrugged. “Dad liked the decorations.”

“He didn’t like the new ones?”

“No, no he said it looked good.”

“He liked what you had, so you had to race off to get the old ones? We all noticed One dashing off, and you’re saying it was just for these old things? Tell me why that doesn’t add up, kid.”

Scott flushed. “There wasn’t any reason, I just wondered if we had more lights.”

“That’s a reason. Why’d you think we need more lights?”

His hands stilled.

“Dad mentioned the Oort,” he said, bracing himself for her response.

Grandma Tracy looked at him, her eyes searching for something in his expression. Scott didn’t know what, indeed hardly recognised the flash that was less than fear and more than mere concern that shot through him when he remember those long dark years without their Dad.

“I see,” she said. “Did he say anything else?”

She was cautious now, not willing to initiate discussion on anything his dad might have kept confidential, and Scott understood that, he did, he did, and yet…

“He won’t talk to me about it,” he said, the words dull in his mouth. “He doesn’t trust me, I know that.”

Grandma Tracy clucked her tongue and reached out to gently smack him. “Get that thought right out of your head, Scott Tracy. Your father’s done his best to keep that boundary in place for a reason. He’s not fool enough to rely on you for this, not after what happened when your mother died.”

Scott ducked his head, suddenly very interested in the lights that ran through his fingertips. He felt just as helpless as he did all those years ago, that first, long Christmas without their Dad.

“I just wanted to push the dark away. I keep imagining it, all those years without the sun…”

He broke off with a shudder, wrapping his arms around him tightly.

Grandma Tracy tugged him close, rubbing soothing circles as she held him.

“Now, Scott, don’t go inventing trouble when you’ve already got plenty of your own,” she said softly. “You’re going to have to trust me, and your father for that matter. We’ve got things handled.”

“But,” he began, but she shook her head.

“No ‘buts’, this one isn’t on you, kiddo. Your only job is to enjoy that we got our own Christmas miracle this year. He’s home, and he’s not going anywhere for a long while yet.”

Scott let out a slow, even breath. His hands uncurled, and he reached once more for the Christmas lights.

“He’s really here, isn’t he?” he asked, eyes on the bulbs.

Suddenly, the whole string lit up, red and yellow and blue and green, glowing orbs that trembled as he lifted the lights with a smile.

Grandma Tracy gripped his shoulder tightly, her eyes shining in the dancing light.

“He really is.”

[Continue to Day Two]

#scott tracy #jeff tracy #grandma tracy #thunderbirds are go #sometimes i fic #i have debated back and forth about posting bc the fic is not exactly.... finished lol #but it's not far off and I'm excited for it #so I am sharing <3 #fanfic 🥰#scott 💙#grandma 💜#jeff 🚀#thunderbirds #collected works (mine)#🎄🎄🎄#family feels #2015

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