#so on monday i finally had a FUCK IT IT'S TANTRUM TIME

[dreamlogic]

[tasmanianstripes]

Menstrual pain should be taken more seriously than it currently is, people suffering from it shouldn't be dismissed or accused of overreacting because "it's just a period"

For most of my life, I've suffered from debilitating menstrual cramps. Some days it was bad enough that I couldn't move, couldn't even speak, just cry and scream for hours until the painkillers finally kicked in, and it'd often leave me feeling weak, exhausted and like I was on the verge of passing out. I have to take the strongest non-prescription medication on the market and it still just makes my pain bearable enough that I can function; hell, even my prescription drugs sometimes weren't enough.

Despite this, I was often ridiculed by my peers and accused of faking it so I can get out of school or work, and I've had medical professionals refuse to help me because "it's just a period" and "it'll pass on its own". I've had to beg people to go get me painkillers and they'd usually start an argument or roll their eyes at me and complain the entire time. It was a constant problem and the only person that's ever taken my pain seriously was my mother.

Seriously, it isn't right that I have to deal with 2-3 days of debilitating pain and nobody around me treats it seriously. Not even my doctors.

And I'm not even the most severe case out there, I'm lucky that my cramps only last a max of 3 days and respond to medications. There are people out there who have to deal with worse.

Seriously, just please start taking menstrual pain seriously. Just because it happens every month doesn't mean it's any more bearable or less serious than any other pain. The pain this severe isn't normal, it's a medical condition and it should be treated seriously. It's even more fucked up that this sort of pain is often a symptom of some underlying condition yet even doctors don't treat it seriously.

[tanniefm]

all to you | jjk (m)

summary - why work on a boring school project when you could fuck your cute bestfriend?!

pairing - sub!jungkook x dom!reader (f)

genre - friends to lovers, pwp

word count - 2.6k

song inspo - all to you by sabrina claudio.

warnings - dry humping, dirty talk, praise, pet names, cumming in pants (EEEE), breast play, reader is described as squishy and squeezable so if you don’t like that my bad

a/n - i just desperately needed whiny koo. badly. also hey lol it’s been a while

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You're gonna fail this class. Who the fuck even needs calculus anyway? You huff and continue to throw a silent temper tantrum while writing down equations that don't even make sense to you. You look over at your friend, Jungkook to see if he thinks anything of what the professor was saying makes sense, only to see him diligently writing in his notebook and seeming to retain every bit of information the man bellows out to the class. You chuckle to yourself, your Kookie, always hard at work.

You and Jungkook have been friends since you were kids. He's always been a little meek and quiet, a complete juxtaposition from your talkative and loud manner. You had found him cute, even back in elementary school. His bunny smile and his big doe eyes made you melt every time you looked at him. Being neighbors, naturally, you both were constantly around each other. He was content with listening to you talk your head off while he listened intently and nodded along. You two complement each other. Anytime either of you had a problem, the other was always there to give support. Your favorite thing to do though was tease him. Seeing his pretty face burn scarlet and shyly bite his lip after complimenting him gave you a strange sense of satisfaction. It seemed as though no one could get him so flustered but you. Of course, you tried not to dwell on it, but it's not like it wasn't there.

You watched the clock obsessively, desperately waiting for it to strike 4. You smiled once it did and quickly gathered your stuff to meet Jungkook by the door where he always waited for you. Calculus is your last class of the day so he waits for you to pack up to walk back to the dorms together. As you start down the road to your building, you turn and finally ask him what the fuck you're supposed to be doing for class.

“Oh, we have a test next Monday. It's on Convergence and Divergence, remember?” he asks. No, you do not, but you're sure you wrote down some notes somewhere so maybe that'll count for something.

“I do not have the attention span for this shit I swear. Every time he speaks I automatically zone out,” you groan. He giggles and shakes his head.

“I’ll help you study, don't worry,” Your dorm building comes into view as you keep your pace on the sidewalk.

“Great! My roommate won't be home for another couple of hours so we can get started at mine.” you smile.

You take out your key and unlock the door and walk into the living room to set both of your bags on the kitchen table. Jungkook gets his laptop and notebook and sits on the couch. He found doing your work out here is more productive than in your bedroom since you tend to get a little lazy when you're in the comfort of your room. You've argued with him about this plenty of times before, even though you're very aware he's right.

“You want anything to drink? Eat? I think I might have some ramen in the pantry,” you yell from the kitchen.

“Nah I'm good, thanks!” he yells back. His face illuminates from his screen as he starts looking up the test review your professor sent out for the class.

You come back with a bottle of water and your sweatshirt in your hands. Oh. You took it off. Ok, that's fine - Jungkook thinks to himself - the tight tank top you're wearing that seems to accentuate your boobs and curves perfectly is completely fine. He's fine, just focus on the google doc, JK. He tucks his bottom lip between his teeth and stares wide-eyed at his screen.

“Oh shit, I still need to get the stuff for Tae’s party, hold on,” you whip out your phone and search for the text Taehyung sent you about all the different types of snacks and alcohol he wanted.

“Oh no you don't need to do that, I'll get them it's fine!” he rushes to grab his phone and open his notes app. Tae had sent the list of errands he wanted to the group chat and hadn't given anyone a specific job on who needed to buy what. You had said you’d get some of them, but it seems Jungkook had the same intention.

“Kook, I can get them, it's whatever. Just let me look for what he said he needed,” you argue. He attempts to disagree again but you snatch his phone from his hands before he can get a word out.

“Hey, give it back!” he yelps. You cackle mischievously and turn away from him as he tries to grab his phone from your hands. 

“____! Give me my phone!” he whines. He sets his computer on the coffee table and tries to wrestle it from your grasp again. Just as he lunges for his phone, you put your hand on his firm chest and push him back onto the couch. You climb on top of him and straddle his waist. 

“What are you gonna do about it? Why don't you just take it, hm?” you look down at him and freeze. His lips are in a soft pout and he gives you the best puppy eyes he can muster. 

“Please ____? Just give it back, please?” he whines softly. Your breath hitches as you realize the position you're in. Your best friend is under you begging for his phone while you are staring down at him and straddling his tiny waist. His hands had clasped onto your hips and he absentmindedly squeezed them. Fuck he looks so good like this. Jungkook doesn't know what to focus on. The view of you on top of him like this is something he'll be fisting his dick to for weeks. He bets if he leaned up right now he'd be at the perfect level to kiss you. Maybe even kiss your pretty tits that are seemingly calling for him to suck bruises into. He can feel his jeans tighten as his eyes dart everywhere but your eyes and his face starts to turn pink. You mistake his flustered look for being uncomfortable and immediately attempt to apologize and shift off of him. As you make your move, however, you hear him gasp loudly. His grip on your hips tightens further and his face darkens to a bright red. 

“Oh my god I'm so sorry did I hurt you?” you rush out. He looks like a deer in headlights. Maybe you went too far?

“N-no. M’ ok,” he says in a small voice. You furrow your brows in concern and take his face in your hands.

“Are you sure? You're burning up, babe.” you rub your thumbs across his cheekbones as he stares starry-eyed at you. He offhandedly thinks you might've been an angel in your past life. He smiles gently and nods in your hands. He musters the courage to start rubbing his hands up and down your waist slowly. You feel so soft. He wants to hold you like this forever. However, his dick is starting to strain in response to the worried tone you're taking on. He'll never admit it out loud, but he loves how concerned you get over him. It makes him feel needed and special.

“I'm fine, ____, promise.” He hopes you can see past his white lie for once. Unfortunately for him, it's just then that you start to feel something press against your leggings. 

“Jungkook...are you...?” you say slowly. His eyes widen as his entire body stiffens. Fuck fuck you felt him. Oh god, now you're gonna think he's a fucking weirdo that can't control his hormones. He should've never come over. Now you're gonna hate him forever! You notice his eyes start to well up and immediately try to comfort him.

“No! No baby it's ok! I'm not mad or grossed out please no tears you know I don't like seeing my pretty boy sad.” Without thinking, you softly kiss his forehead. He stares at you in awe and sniffles. Your pretty boy. The words swirl through poor Jungkook’s head on repeat. Did you mean it? Is he really yours? Did you really think he was pretty? Do you think about him the way he thinks about you?

“Y-yours? I'm...yours?” he mumbled. His watery eyes are looking at you like you're the center of the universe. Although you didn't mean for the words to slip, you didn't want to watch doubt cloud his eyes if you were to take them back. So you lean down and smile softly. “Mhm, mine. Always mine,” you see him glance down at your lips the closer you get to him. He starts to close his eyes and you giggle quietly at how cute he looks awaiting your kiss. You brush your lips against his and lean back teasingly. He whines and chases after you. 

���You wanna kiss me, baby? Hm?” you smirk as you watch his eyes flutter open and give you a pleading look. “Yes, please. Wanna kiss,” he frowns. You notice his lisp is starting to show as you cause his brain to turn to mush. You like him like this. All whiny and pliant just for you. Your pretty boy. You guide his lips towards yours and caress your hands along his chest. All the sports he's been doing must be paying off since you swear you can feel every muscle in him tense. His tongue shyly comes out to twist against your own which causes you to sigh blissfully into his mouth. Your fingers brush over his nipples and you feel him gasp.

“Oh? Are your little nipples sensitive, baby? You want me to touch them?” he whimpers and nods. “Words, sweetie. You need to tell me you want me,” you say pointedly. For some reason, he feels like you're talking about more than just touching his nipples. 

“Yes ____. Please touch me…I want you,” he says bashfully. You smile and praise him for being so polite, which in turn rewards you with a toothy grin and a cute nose scrunch. You peck his nose before you resume your little make-out session. Your fingers brush over his nipples once more but this time start to circle them slowly. His hips buck as he lets out a small moan that you swallow. Your hands sneak under his shirt to touch them more directly. You slide your hands up his muscular plane and return them to his pebbled peaks. He starts to whine consistently which only makes you wetter. God, he sounds so fucking pretty. Why didn’t you think to do this sooner? You direct your kisses to his jaw and work your way down his neck. You gently suck on his pulse point and it sends him into a full-body shiver. You giggle and tug at the hem of his shirt. He quickly obliges, tugging it off and diving back into you to continue kissing. He thinks kissing you has got to be his favorite feeling in the entire world now. Your lips are so soft and plump, the vanilla-scented gloss you put on smears across his smaller lips, making him feel dizzy and uncomfortably hard. His hands start to squeeze your hips again. They feel so soft and cushy, he loves how squeezable you are. He wonders if your cunt feels just as soft. Fuck he needs you so bad. He starts to rub himself against your clothed center as you slowly take off your tank top. 

Seeing your boobs squeezed into your bra has him drooling. This has to be a dream come true. “Can I take that off too?” he says whilst completely honed in on your breasts. You laugh and nod, god could he get any cuter? He reaches around and clumsily fumbles with the hooks. He’s so horny he can’t even think straight. He already knows his boxers are drenched with how much precum his dick is producing. Once your breasts are freed, he takes a moment to fully take you in and the situation he’s found himself in. His favorite person in the world is grinding on his lap, half nude, and looking at him warmly. He’s definitely fucking dreaming.

He shyly dives his head into your neck and trails soft kisses down towards your chest. The closer he gets to your nipples, the harder he sucks. He wants to leave his mark, anything to prove that this is truly happening. Your weight on top of him and his hands feeling your soft skin is the only thing grounding him at the moment. You grab his ebony locks and guide him to where you want his mouth. As sweet as he’s being, you’re feeling just as needy for him. You grind a little faster which causes him to moan loudly against your nipple. His hand moves from your hips to play with the neglected one. His other hand encourages you to continue your pace on his swollen shaft. Back and forth, back and forth. This is pure bliss for Jungkook. 

Your living room is filled with the noises of pleasure. Anyone unlucky enough to be your neighbor will know that not a single studying tactic is being used right now. But you can’t find it in you to care. All you care about is hearing Jungkook moan as loud as he wants as he orgasms. You briefly consider giving him more than this. Maybe wrapping your lips around his pulsing tip, or even sitting on him directly with no fabric in between. The thought of getting him to ruin his pants is too good to pass up though. You can imagine how embarrassed he might become, but it’s ok, you’ll clean him up. At this you smirk and put your full weight on him, snapping your hips to gain speed.

 He gasps and his eyes widen. Why are you going so fast? At this rate, he’ll… “____ wait! I’m gonna-hngg-I’m not gonna last if you keep going!” You shush him gently and keep your pace. You need to see him crumble under you. He throws his head back as his hips can’t help but thrust into yours. His mouth opens and spills every sound he’s been trying to quiet down. He’s never felt this good in his life. His hand could never compare to this feeling. You lean down and whisper in his, “You gonna cum baby? Cmon Kookie, be a good boy and cum for me. Want you to ruin these pants.” He moans loudly and nods his head rapidly. He lifts his head to look at you as his eyes start to water. “I-I’m-fuck! I can’t! Please don’t stop,” he chokes out. Curses slip profusely from his lips as his moans rise in octave. Until finally, the dam breaks. He spills into his soiled boxers as tears stream down his face and confessions of his love for you leave his mouth. Your body shakes with your own climax and smile bigger than you ever have, you had a feeling he’d be the type to profess his love whilst cumming. He’s such a sweet boy. You tug at the back of his neck to slot your lips onto his.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he pants into the kiss. You both can’t stop smiling, this is everything you’ve ever wanted. You pull back with a line of spit still connecting you two. “I love you too, you know. So much,” you say as you gaze into his black orbs. He’s gorgeous, he has the same thought as he holds you close. His phone suddenly pings from your side. Damn, you had forgotten all about that thing. A message that makes you both simultaneously cackle and blush appears on the screen. 

Tae:

“Hey so I got the stuff for the party, let me know when ya’ll are done fucking or wtv and come over 😒”

[reidslovely]

Peter’s eyes are absolutely beautiful 😩😩 Have any frat boy peter headcannons? Maybe him trying to get the reader but she doesn’t like greek life (and him being a cocky asshole)

He has gorgeous puppy dog eyes I can't describe them any other way.

Frat boy peter is...mhm if you could see my face. he and I have a interesting relationship because greek life and I are not besties. But we can say Pete is the actual exception. I mean look at him

You met Peter in your elective sociology course because out of some type of spite your professor told you to look to your right and you'd see your partner for the whole semester. Any discussion board completed had to have both of your names on it, any project you had both would turn in together. Meaning it felt like you spent every waking moment with this geeky asshole. The first thing he did after your first class together was ask you out.

The absolute audacity of this man because what the fuck? You had traded maybe a total of five sentences to one another the whole class. He was cute, you had to give him that..till he opened his mouth.

"Do you want to like go out with me sometime?" "Like to work on our discussion posts? Or the project one like what do you mean Parker?" "No, no." He laughed throwing his head back holding the door to the lecture hall open for you. "Like I take you to a movie, or a bar or something and we get to know each other. A date, you ever been on one?"

How dare he assume you'd never been on a date? You'd been on several dates since getting to ESU, did you look like someone who never went on dates? For that sole reason you turned down his offer, and you didn't feel like listening to him talk about his dumb frat and whatever stupid four year degree he was completing. (He was probably a business major or something.)

However he was a very good sport about it, shockingly, most frat boys would throw a tantrum like a three year old in the you section of a Walmart but Pete was chill. He nodded and said he understood and when, not if, when you changed your mind the offer would stand. What a cocky asshole.

A few weeks later in the semester is when you finally get to know Peter Parker and not Peter the frat boy. He showed up to the library (30 minutes late) soaking wet and shivering. "Where's your jacket?"

"Harry took it, they're doing rush stuff in the rain he needed it more than me." He says shaking his hair out of the ball cap he was wearing, and what was hidden under the hair shocked you.

Peter's dark brown hair that was there in class Monday morning was now a (unevenly) bleached blonde. "What the fuck did you do to your hair." "I didn't do fucking shit to it." He said a laugh in his chest. "Fell asleep in the den woke up being told to rinse my hair out. The older guys got to me for prank week or whatever." "That's fucked up." "Mhm I put itching powder in their after shave and shampoo after don't worry about me pretty girl. I get even." He smirks. "This is why I hate greek life." "Mhm pays for college what can I say. I wouldn't be here without it." You hadn't considered that as the reason Peter joined greek life. You knew they got benefits but, Peter just fit the stereotype to well. "Really?" You asked. "I'm a poor kid from Queens babe, I missed my SATS and ACTs more than three times. It's a wonder they even accepted me into the biophysics department. Then I wanted to double major with biochem and I basically had to get on my knees and beg the frat to let me in and pay for my degree." He laughed looking at you, playfully tapping your arm. "Didn't hurt that my uncle was an alumni, so I'm a legacy." You stared at him like he had three heads, he seemed so real in that moment. Suddenly he wasn't the asshole you met on your first day assuming you'd want to date him, or he wasn't the jackass you saw playing basketball in the front yard of greek row with girls drooling on him. He seemed like everyone else you knew.

You also stared at him because his hair was distracting. Slamming the book shut you put it into your bag, and stood up. "Come on, blondie." His head snapped up at you, eyes squinting a smirk on his face. "Is this you picking up that date offer." "No this is me fixing your hair because this is an eye sore and I feel truly bad for you." You laughed putting his hat on his head pulling it over his eyes. You stood in the middle of your dorm room that night, clipping a pink princess peach towel around Peter's neck as your re-bleached his hair, and he typed up the last few parts of your first project. Having him explain his bad chemistry jokes to you, which he sneakily replied:

"The one spark I know is positive is between us" You rolled your eyes calling him a cheeseball. It seemed that moment on wherever you were Peter went or vice versa. You found yourself in the bio lab with him a lot, working on discussion posts or doing notes while he worked. You two enjoyed each others company, with no labels. You had taken him up on the offer and didn't even notice until you were walking out of the bar a couple blocks from campus, having gotten drinks with him and his frat friends. Who knew you by name before you even walked in. Peter held your hand as he walked you back towards your dorm, a cigarette in his mouth. "You tell your friends about me Parker?" "Yeah I do. I'm slowly indoctrinating you into the greek life." You rolled your eyes in response, nudging him playfully. He laughed blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth, putting his cigarette out on the brick wall. "But no, I told some of them about you the day we first met." "Really?" "Mhm I thought you were fascinating, I couldn't get a word out to you, you were so smart and pretty. Only thing I knew to do was to ask you out and you said no and I had to tell them the moment I thought I feel in love." He jokes. You stopped in your tracked staring up at him. "You are such a..just kiss me." Peter laughed grabbing your face, pulling you into a soft kiss. Hands stroking your cheeks, as you soaked in every second of the moment you can. "Still hate frat boys?" Peter teases. "Little bit..but you're the exception."

[moonchildreads]

small town

Chapter 15 - Don't You Want Me

IN THIS CHAPTER: Illicit library naps, a sleepover, and Important Questions get asked [7.3k]

WARNINGS: fear of coming out (lighthearted, everything turns out okay), self doubt, bisexuality? idk if that's a warning but if you haven't noticed yet, eddie and dot are both bi lol

A/N: happy pride friends! i swear to god i didn't plan for this chapter to be out and proud in june, i set the outline in stone months ago but i'm taking it as a happy accident. sorry for posting a day late, yesterday was Not Great but we should get back to friday updates this coming week. enjoy <3

masterlist - prev - next | playlist

You know I can't believe it When I hear that you won't see me

Monday, May 12th - 1986

The rainy spell that haunted Hawkins at all times continued throughout most of the Monday, up until lunch time when it finally relented. The sky was still mostly dark with heavy clouds hiding the sun while the Hellfire seniors stood just outside the cafeteria doors, waiting for Eddie to be done with the conversation he was about to engage in so they could head to their next classes. All four of them - Dottie, Gareth, Donny, and Jeff - were staring pointedly at him as he approached the cheerleaders’ table.

“Got the goods, Cunningham?” Eddie raised his voice to call Chrissy’s attention.

“Yup! Got ‘em right here!” she said, smiling brightly and reaching into her pocket to grab the remaining prom tickets she’d promised to save for him. He gave her the money and she accepted it gracefully, but when he leaned forward to grab the tickets, she snapped her hand back, lifting it over her head. “You better suit up, Munson, or I’ll personally block your way in.”

“We’ll dress up, I promise,” he said, crossing his heart. “Scout’s honor.”

“You’re not a Scout, Eddie.”

“You don’t know what I get up to in my free time,” he snatched the tickets from her hand and began walking backwards quickly towards the doors. “See you around, Chris! Have a good day, ladies!”

Not a beat had passed since he’d walked away before Chrissy’s friends surrounded her, gossiping loudly about the situation they’d just witnessed. The Freak talking to their Captain? Who did he think he was?

“Ugh, he’s so… scruffy! Why do you let him talk to you like that?” Libby, a junior tumbler said, crossing her arms and burrowing further into her cheer cardigan.

“What do you mean? He was perfectly polite,” Chrissy defended him. “He just wanted to buy some prom tickets.”

“He shouldn’t be talking to you anyway, you aren’t in charge of selling them,” Melissa, a senior flyer and Chrissy’s second in command, scoffed. “I bet he’s not even gonna go, he probably just wanted an excuse to be near you. God, he’s such a freak.”

“I’m on the Prom Planning Committee, it’s more than okay if people ask me about tickets. And don’t call Eddie a freak anymore. It’s not right,” Chrissy said, stomping away to her next class.

“What the fuck is wrong with her?” Libby turned to look at her senior.

“I don’t know but she thinks she’s hot shit since that Ohio State cheer clinic she went to during Spring Break. I don’t like it,” the flyer replied, but Chrissy never heard her, already busy getting her books out of her locker.

Eddie was pulling out of his driveway to take Dottie home after their usual after school study session when she asked him to drop her off at Gareth’s instead. She mentioned they were having a sleepover at his house so they could work on a Chemistry project that had to be delivered during first period on Tuesday, and that didn’t do anything to calm the little knot Eddie was beginning to recognize as jealousy that formed at the pit of his stomach. The rational part of his brain, the one that knew there was nothing going on between two of his best friends, was at war with the dumb side that wanted to stop the van in the middle of the road and throw a tantrum. He settled on gripping the steering wheel until his fingers hurt when he saw her hug Gareth hello like she hadn’t seen him in years; the younger boy waved at him like Eddie’s heart wasn’t cracking at the slightest hint of being undesirable.

Oblivious to his friend’s feelings, Gareth guided Dottie inside towards his living room where his phone was so she could call her Dad and let him know she'd arrived safely. Once James had been informed of his daughter’s whereabouts, the teens got to work on the coffee table until Gareth’s dad came home from work. Gareth’s mom, Lydia, was a sweet looking woman with bright blue eyes her son had inherited and a big blonde hairdo. She really enjoyed being a hostess, which is why she had gladly slaved herself away in the kitchen all afternoon making a sweet and sour brisket she claimed was her specialty.

"Okay, so we're thinking regular crackers, marshmallows, cereal, toasted bread, untoasted bread, and dry pasta?" Dottie read from their notes.

"We should add something that we know is unhealthy, just to test it out."

"We have marshmallows."

"Yeah, but those are full of air, they'll probably burn really fast. We need something more dense, like… uh…," Gareth thought hard about what they could find in his pantry and still came up with nothing.

"D'you have peanuts? With the shell?"

"Peanuts are unhealthy?"

"I mean, not really, no, but they are, like, high in fat? And I bet the shells burn well."

"Let's do peanuts then," he nodded, jotting it down onto their notebook.

Their last project of the year was free choice, and after perusing a few science magazines in the library, they had settled on building a calorimeter. Truth be told, they should have done it earlier but between Mother’s Day, Hellfire and Dottie spending so much time with Eddie helping him get ready for his exams, Monday night before the project’s due date had to suffice. Gareth had asked his Dad for help to build two calorimeters, which were ready to go on the desk in his bedroom along with the blow-up mattress Dottie would be sleeping on right next to his bed. His Mom had been a little hesitant to let them bunk in the same bedroom, but her son had brought up a good point: his sister, Gretchen, would positively lose her mind if a stranger slept in her bed, so Gareth’s floor was a good compromise as long as they left the door wide open.

When Gareth’s dad, Gavriel, arrived home from a long day at work, dinner was almost ready to be served. Gareth was in the middle of an animated rant, explaining to Dottie about a very special part of their meal he had begged his Mom for to mark the special occasion. He had never really had a sleepover before, and even though they’d be up late into the night working on their project, he was still very excited at the prospect of hanging out with someone he considered one of his closest friends with no time constraints or adult supervision.

“You said you’ve never really tried Jewish food before, so I asked my Mom to make these for you,” Gareth explained, carrying a big plate to the dining table where they usually sat to do homework on Wednesdays, Dottie trailing behind him carrying cutlery and bread.

“They look like hash browns,” she said, peering at the mystery food.

“They are better than hash browns. These are called latkes. My Mom only makes them during Hanukkah, but honestly, I’d eat them every day if I could.”

“Didn’t know you did Hanukkah,” Dottie frowned. “Didn’t you say you went to your Grandparents’ for Christmas last year?”

“Yeah, we do both! And neither, now that I think about it,” he frowned too, like he was just realizing something about his own traditions. “We’re not really religious, I mean… We celebrate, but it’s more about family and getting together. We mix both sides.”

Gavriel was Jewish and Lydia was not, which in turn made their children half-Jewish. This was something Gareth’s friends were aware of, but didn’t entirely understand since they never really talked about what it meant. This, coupled with the fact that the youngest Coleman hadn’t really had close friends until he reached high school and joined Hellfire, led to his now very apparent enthusiasm while showing Dottie everything that made him… well, him. He didn’t consider himself spiritual in the broad sense of the word, but being Jewish was one of the only things he had always known about himself, the part of his identity that no matter what happened would always be his and he was proud of who he was.

Dottie sat at the dinner table with Gareth and his parents to share a lovely meal together and wondered for the millionth time in her life what it would be like to have siblings. She knew her friend and Gretchen, his older sister, hardly saw eye to eye: she was outgoing, sporty, had a lot of friends and a loving boyfriend, and Gareth was nerdy, shy, and obsessed with horror movies to a degree people that didn’t know him too well found off putting. Despite these differences though, it was clear from the way Gareth spoke about his sister that he would gladly walk through literal fire for her, even though he was the first one to chew her out every time she came home and left enough hair to make a wig on their shower wall. He put two latkes on Dottie’s plate, one with applesauce on top, the other one with sour cream and waited for her verdict, big blue eyes shining with excitement.

“Which one’s your fave?” Dottie asked him, holding the one with sour cream like Lydia was doing across from her.

“I’m not gonna tell you, you can’t be biased,” Gareth scoffed, fork halfway to his mouth full of decadent meat. “Gotta form your own opinion.”

“I’m gonna try them both, I just wanted to know which one you liked more,” she defended herself before trying a bit without any sauce first, just to get a feel of the texture. “Okay, yeah, I see what you meant now. These are better than hash browns.”

“Told ya,” he grinned. “Now try it with the sour cream.”

“Gareth, don’t be pushy,” Gavriel warned, but there was no need, she was already on her second bite.

Gareth waited with bated breath as she switched to her other latke, this one with applesauce. He watched her chew, her face giving away nothing while she wiped her hand on a napkin. A few moments of silence went by, both Lydia and Gavriel looking at each other with curious eyes, their son’s eyebrows going higher each second that ticked by. He had never been particularly patient, and Dottie was making him sweat for her review.

“So?” he asked, leaning towards her. “Which one’s better?”

“Are you gonna throw me out if I don’t agree with you?”

“Dot.”

“Sour cream’s better,” she said, and he groaned loudly. “It’s not that applesauce is bad, I just liked the other one more! The chives in the cream make it feel special. Thank you for making these for us, Mrs. Coleman, they are great.”

“Oh, you don’t have to thank me, sweetie!” said Lydia, beaming at the praise. “I like them with chives better too.”

“You are both so wrong,” Gareth said, looking at his father for support. “Tell them they’re wrong, Dad.”

“I like them with both sauces,” Gavriel declared before kissing Lydia’s cheek. “Your mother is a great cook, just eat and be grateful.”

“Ugh. Got no allies in this house.”

“Finish your dinner, Gare, it’s getting cold,” Lydia said, knowing better than anyone else how dramatic her son could be.

As the dinner progressed and his parents chatted with Dottie, eager to know more about her, Gareth couldn’t help but notice just how different it was to have a female best friend than to only have multiple sweaty metalheads around all the time. He loved Jeff, Donny, and Eddie, and he was pretty confident that he would go to war for them if they ever needed him to, but there was a soft quality to his friendship with Dot he had never really experienced before, not even with his sister. He felt less pressure to be traditionally boyish, could have longer, deeper talks and not have to worry about anyone making fun of his feelings when they overwhelmed or confused him. And truthfully, it wasn’t that he couldn’t be 100% himself with the boys, but having a girl in their tight-knit group had meant they were now a lot more careful about how they approached certain topics, or how they behaved in general.

No more farting around in each other’s faces when they got into the van or pausing to stare at boobs during Fast Times at Ridgemont High - they were much more in tune with each other now, noticing the little things they would have easily disregarded before, like Jeff’s apprehension towards the big brother he had once looked up to and tried to emulate, or Donny’s budding excitement at the thought of joining his family’s business after graduation. Or perhaps it hadn’t been Dottie at all who had changed the dynamic of their group, and they had simply, well, grown up. Graduation was just a month away, after all.

After dinner, Gareth’s parents retreated to their living room to relax after a long day while the teens gathered their supplies and slipped outside to the garage to do the practical portion of their project. Gavriel had spent a couple of hours on Saturday helping his son build all the necessary parts for two homemade bomb calorimeters; mainly they had just drilled holes into cans and hoped things would fit in once assembled. Once everything was in place, they got to work with the ease of two people who had been lab partners for a while and knew exactly what their tasks were: Dottie was in charge of the charts and Gareth of the equations. They were both equally excited about the burning though.

“God, this smells like a s’more,” he groaned, the barely there fire under their can of water consuming a marshmallow.

“I don’t like s’mores,” she said, jotting something down on their chart.

“You are so weird.”

They were both sitting in the driveway in front of the garage, the pavement under their jeans a little bit chilly from the day’s overcast sky. They had already burned the bread (toasted and untoasted), cereal, and dry pasta, and were now moving onto the remaining foods, the sickly sweet marshmallow scent mixing with the smoke in the night air.

“So…,” Gareth began, measuring the temperature of the water in the can.

“So?”

“Heard Eddie got you a ticket for prom.”

“Yeah,” she said, nonchalantly. “We got into an argument last week and he wanted to make it up to me.”

“Are you two going together now?”

“No, we’re still going as a group. He just did something nice for me.”

“Sure,” he smirked. “Something nice. Absolutely not strange at all.”

“Just spit it out, G, what do you actually want to ask?” Dottie turned to him with a tired expression.

“What’s going on between you two?”

“Nothing!” she said, a little bit too defensively, which made him lift an eyebrow in response. “Nothing is going on, I promise. We’re just friends.”

“Dot, come on,” he shook his head, big curls swaying back and forth. “Are you seriously telling me that you two aren’t swapping spit during your dates? He bought you a prom ticket, he takes you to dinner all the time, he might as well have fucking tattooed your name on his left tit.”

“Okay, first of all, ew. Swapping spit, really? God have mercy on however kisses you,” she ducked to avoid a marshmallow to her head. “Second, we don’t go on dates. We get together to study and sometimes we eat together, that’s it. Nothing inappropriate has ever happened, so knock it off, okay?”

Gareth saw her jaw clench and decided to drop the subject entirely, switching topics to their current assignment and the different smells certain charred food reminded him of. They completed their work quickly and efficiently, packing up for the night before retreating to the safety of his bedroom. He offered her his shower and Dottie accepted it gladly, desperate for a few minutes alone to clear her head. He fished out clean towels from the hallway storage cupboard, and sent her on her merry way to the Jack and Jill he shared with his sister, wondering if maybe he’d mistaken the signals he’d gotten from watching two of his best friends interact with each other.

Dottie was spiraling. There was no other way to describe what she was doing while staring at the big bottle of hair conditioner in Gareth and Gretchen’s shared bathroom. The water was scalding, leaving her skin pink and her fingers pruny but she didn’t attempt to move from under the stream for several seconds. Had she really been that obvious? Could people tell that she liked Eddie? Could he tell? What if he didn’t know, but found out and was disgusted about it? She’d shared so much of her past lately, what if he used it as a weapon to hurt her? Oh, but Eddie wasn’t like that. He could be mean when he wanted to, but never to his friends, or at least not intentionally. He could be harsh sometimes, but he didn’t mean to hurt anyone. And besides, he’d offered up his life story to her too so that meant he trusted her. But what if he started hating her? What if he hated that he’d confided in her while she was secretly harboring this big ass crush that seemed to grow every day and left her breathless every time their hands touched? What if -

“Dot? You okay in there?” Gareth’s voice cut straight through the madness swirling inside her head.

“Y-yeah! I’ll be out in a sec!”

“Okay! You want egg cream?”

“What?” she turned off the water and wrapped herself in a fluffy baby pink towel, padding closer to the door.

“Egg cream, it’s like an ice cream float but with no ice cream. Like foamy chocolate milk. You wanna try it?”

“Uh, okay. Sure!”

She could hear him walking away towards the kitchen, socks cushioning his steps, and quickly changed into her pajamas trying to come back down to the present. Gareth had always been incredibly nice to her, and she considered themselves to be pretty close. She thought of all the boys as her best friends, but Gareth and her had immediately clicked in a way that was different than with the rest of them. Jeff was very much an equal, a calming presence, the friend she turned to when she was nervous and needed advice, and he sought her out for comfort as well, their relationship shaped around a sort of gentle give and take. On the other hand, Donny was the big brother she’d never had, guiding her in D&D when she felt particularly lost, sharing music with her, and helping her become more confident in her own skin. She’d return his affections with endless enthusiasm and curiosity, their friendship based on mutual admiration and genuine fondness. And Gareth… Gareth was the rambunctious twin she’d always dreamed of. They bickered incessantly, she’d steal his sweatshirts and then let him copy off her homework, and he’d threaten to burp in her face only to then steer her away from bullies in the hallways. Out of all their friends, he was the most likely to give her his real opinion on something without filtering it, and that’s why when she hung up the towel to dry, she decided he deserved to know the truth.

“Hey,” he said, looking up from the glass he was pouring chocolate syrup into. “You can have that one, I didn’t make you a big one in case you didn’t like it.”

“Thanks,” Dottie smiled lightly, and he smiled back. “What did you say this was called? Creamed egg?”

“Egg cream,” Gareth snorted. “It’s chocolate milk, but with seltzer. It sounds crazy but it’s really good, I promise.”

Dottie took a small sip and scrunched her face instantly making him laugh. With a confused expression, she went in for a second sip, and then a third one. She wiped the foam from her upper lip and set the cup down.

“It’s not gross, but it’s not good either.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda weird, right? That’s why I like it. It’s better with Fox’s U-Bet, but I only have Hershey’s,” he said, before taking a big gulp and downing half his glass in one go. “Ready for bed?”

“Can we take down your Freddy Krueger poster? It gives me the creeps.”

“You’re such a baby,” he teased her, but he was already on his way to his bedroom to unpin it from his wall.

They settled in for the night after brushing their teeth while sharing the sink, playfully bumping each other with their elbows for more space. Gareth not only took his Freddy Krueger poster down, but also his Night of the Living Dead and The Evil Dead posters while Dottie fluffed her pillow, the air mattress bouncing softly every time she moved. They lay in the dark for a few minutes, moonlight barely giving shape to the bumps in the bedroom before she turned to him.

"G?" Dottie whispered, not wanting to wake him up if he'd already fallen asleep.

"Yeah?"

"If I tell you a secret, you promise not to tell anyone? Not even the guys?"

"Of course," the sheets shifted against his legs as he rolled onto his side and she saw his hand extend until it was right next to her. "Pinky swear."

She lifted her own hand up and linked pinkies with him, shaking on it once. He stayed on his side, squinting in the darkness to see her profile but she never spoke. He thought she'd maybe dozed off, but the blow-up mattress began crackling when she turned on her side to look at him. A car sped down the street illuminating the room and both teens stared at each other until the lights dimmed again. Gareth could tell, if only for a brief moment, that she was terrified of what was stuck in her throat.

"Do you… do you wanna, like, come up here?" he asked, thinking of how he used to climb into his sister's bed when he had nightmares as a kid. Gretchen would always protest against it, but when he woke up in her arms after the sun had gone up, he knew she didn't really mind that much.

"Yeah. Yes, thank you. Just for a bit, though."

"Just for a bit," he repeated, moving back towards the wall and leaving space for her to crawl under his covers.

They lay on their sides sharing a pillow, their heads so close they could have smelled each others’ minty breaths if they just inched forward a bit more. By all means, the situation should have been extremely weird, but it wasn't. There was no rush, no expectations, just two friends waiting until one of them was brave enough to spill some truth into the midnight. Only mild nervousness at the conversation that was about to unfold could be found on Gareth's bed at that moment.

"I think I like Eddie," Dottie said, breaking the silence and bracing for an impact that never came.

"You think you like Eddie?"

"I… no. No, I know I like him. I like Eddie."

"Okay. And he doesn't know?"

"I haven't told him, so I hope not."

"And you don't know if he likes you back?"

"I was kinda hoping you'd help me out on that."

"Well," Gareth began. "Not sure I can. I've known him for years and he just doesn't talk about that stuff with us. Not since Polly Sue at least."

"Polly Sue?"

"This girl he liked back when we first met him. They were in junior year, I think they sat together in class. He asked her to prom and she laughed at him in front of everyone," he explained. "It was really bad. Her friends made fun of him for like a whole week."

"That's horrible."

"He never talked about girls again after that. I know he's kissed some after gigs but it hasn't happened in months."

"Maybe he found someone he likes?" she said, chest seizing at the thought.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about. He's literally spending all his free time with you, so you must be doing something right. I bet he likes you too, but he’s too awkward to say it."

"Yeah? You think so?"

"Yeah! Come on, he'd be a dumbass if he didn't like you back. You're great!"

"You have to say that, you're my best friend," she nudged his leg with hers.

"As your best friend I have to also tell you that you're a freak for not liking latkes with applesauce."

"You're the freak, you sleep with socks on."

Both teens giggled at the absurdity of their fight, Gareth swinging a leg over her hip while she gave him a hug with her left arm only, the right one tucked under her head. He hugged her back, also with one arm, his chin barely touching her forehead.

"You know, if you really want to know, you could just ask him," he suggested.

"I can't walk up to him and go "hey Eddie! Do you like me? Oh, why am I asking you say? Don't worry about it, just curious!". Like, I'd literally rather fucking fall into the quarry."

"I'm not saying you should ask him like that, smartass. You could just ask him if he likes anyone, it’s a friendly question."

"And if he says he does and it's not me?"

"Then you know and you can move on. But honestly, I don't think you should worry. He got you a ticket for prom, he's getting all his grades up for you. I think you're good. Just, keep going like that, y'know? Show him what he’s getting with you if he grows some balls."

"You're really smart sometimes, you know that?" she teased, but her voice was full of fondness.

"Eh, I have my moments," he grinned.

They chatted for another hour, gossiping about things they'd heard in the hallways and making plans for the summer after graduation, the places they wanted to see, the food they wanted to try, the people they wanted to meet. Dottie slipped back into her mattress when the yawns became frequent, sheets cold but heart warm with the knowledge that if everything failed, she'd always could count on Gareth to be her best cheerleader.

Tuesday, May 13th - 1986

If Eddie thought dropping Dottie off at Gareth’s the previous night was bad for his blood pressure, he had no way of preparing himself for the absolute shock it was to see them hanging onto each other near Jeff’s locker where all his friends were congregating before their third period. Gareth was barely awake, clinging to Dottie to keep himself upright despite his head lolling onto hers every few seconds. Dottie looked equally sleepy but seemed to be less in danger of falling to the floor, shoulder tucked under his armpit and locking her body in place. All of that would have been enough to give Eddie a heart attack, but the fact that she was wearing Gareth’s oversized Van Halen sweatshirt tucked into her overalls had his brain firing in wild directions.

"Hey, man," Donny said, standing next to Jeff.

"Hey. You two good?" he asked the tired duo.

"Hi, Ed," Dottie smiled at him sleepily, and Eddie felt his insides turn to mush. "We got an A+."

"First A+ I've gotten since middle school," Gareth muttered, eyes closed but with a satisfied grin on his lips.

"Probably the last one too," Jeff teased, making the curly haired boy blindly lunge at him.

The sudden movement dislodged Dottie’s comfy stand, making her wobble against Eddie's side, left hand coming up to clutch the front of his shirt softly. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders to help stabilize her, but truth be told, he just wanted to hold her and it seemed like a good enough excuse. She didn’t seem to mind, letting herself relax into his soft embrace.

"Sorry," she said, stifling a yawn. "We stayed up really late last night, I'm exhausted."

"I can see that. You wanna skip Calc and take a nap in my van?"

"We can't skip Calc, finals are in a couple of weeks."

"Princess, you're dead on your feet right now."

"We aren't skipping Calc," she said firmly. "I'll nap in the library during fourth."

"Okay," he chuckled. "I'll wake you up for lunch."

Eddie didn't have the heart to wake her up after she fell asleep. Once fourth period started and they were free to study wherever they wanted, he dragged her towards a dark-ish corner at the back of the library and worked on his drawing portfolio quietly while she snoozed on the carpeted floor, her head resting on his lap. She slept straight through fourth period and lunch, and he made no attempts to rouse her from her slumber before the bell rang signaling the start of the last period and the end to their shared classes for the day. He walked her to her Home Economics classroom where Donny was waiting to fully wake her up with a bone-crunching hug, and hurried towards the Biology class he shared with Jeff who asked about their absence at the lunch table with a worried expression.

By the time they all reconvened in the parking lot at the end of the day, she was looking much more alive and he was hungry as hell. They didn’t stop to get snacks as they so often did, choosing instead to share Dottie’s BLT and chips she’d packed for lunch and the brownies she’d made during Home Ec on their drive to the trailer. She didn’t even wipe his tepid bottle of water before taking her own sip, and he hung onto that detail for far longer than he should have. Who could care about her wearing Gareth’s clothes when she lifted a bit of sandwich to his mouth while his hands were busy switching gears and pulling into a turn?

Wayne, as always, was happy to see her and gave her a big hug when they walked into the trailer. Dottie offered the last piece of brownie to him and Eddie could have sworn the old man thought about bringing out adoption papers right there and then. He left them to chat while he rearranged the mess in his bedroom and then the two teens retreated to the dry comfort of his bed, looming clouds threatening to rain again after it had drizzled all morning. Nobody had told Dottie the midwest was this goddamn rainy before she’d made the big move, but she’d much preferred it to how hot she knew summer was going to get as the days went by. She finished her homework for the day quickly and Eddie let her wander around his room while he steadily worked on his, Biology textbook open next to his knee.

When he was on his last question, he noticed she seemed to be bouncing with energy, keeping herself busy by rearranging his tape collection again. He snapped his textbook shut with enough force for her to jolt her head up, and as soon as he’d cleared his bed from any stray papers, she jumped on it, kneeling in front of his crossed legs with shifty eyes and rosy cheeks.

“Okay, spill. You look like Gareth when he overhears something juicy in the hallway,” Eddie said, leaning back onto the wall behind his bed and crossing his arms.

“Speaking of Gareth,” she began, and Eddie waited patiently. “We were talking about prom last night, and, well, it doesn’t really matter, but I was just wondering if you… because we’re all going together as a group, right? But you got me my ticket and I didn’t want things to be awkward if you did so I thought-”

“Princess, I’m so lost right now.”

“Right. Sorry,” she said sheepishly. She took a deep breath while she rearranged her legs to sit criss-cross in front of him. “I was just wondering if there was someone you liked, you know? At school? Because you got me my ticket and I’m really grateful, but I don’t want to ruin things for you if you want to get a date or something.”

“Did Gareth tell you I liked someone?” he narrowed his eyes in confusion.

“No! No, I asked him about- I can pay you back if you want,” she wrung her hands on her lap.

“You don’t have to pay me back,” he said, sitting up. “I don’t… there isn’t anyone I want to take to prom. I want to go with you. And, y’know, the guys. Hellfire Class of ‘86 and all that, right?”

“Yeah, no, I just thought…,” she chewed on her lower lip, not knowing where to take the conversation. “It’s okay if you wanna go with someone else.”

“Do you want to go with someone else?” Eddie asked, wary.

“I wanna go with you,” she said, and looked up at him suddenly. “Hellfire Class of ‘86, l-like you said.”

“Okay,” he said, untangling her wrung fingers and pulling one hand into his. “Good. Nothing’s changing then. You don’t have to pay me back.”

“Okay,” she repeated. “Good.”

Eddie pulled her by her hand until she fell forward into him, legs tangled on top of his blanket and arms around hers. Where were these questions coming from? Had Gareth mentioned something to make her doubt that he wanted nothing more than to take her to prom? He couldn’t wait until the moment he got to sit next to her in his van with her fancy dress on and a love stricken smile on his face. Dottie settled comfortably on his chest, the side of her nose pressed to his sternum, cheek squished against the soft cotton of his shirt. He wondered if she felt it too, that inexplicable pull between them, that overwhelming need to be close, to feel the heat coming off from each other’s skin.

One time very early into their friendship, Mike had mentioned that it was strange how touchy they both were with one another considering they hadn’t known each other for long. Eddie was someone who never hesitated to pull a friend into his arms, always play fighting with the boys, not entirely understanding what the phrase “personal space” meant. He was loud and boisterous, and he was equally showy in his affections regardless who was on the receiving end: Eddie Munson didn’t half ass anything - anything that mattered to him, anyways. Dottie on the other hand was much more reserved, but still didn’t shy away from physical contact. She was always letting her head fall into someone’s shoulder, consistently linking her arm with her friends’ while they walked through hallways, giving everyone strawberry chapstick kisses on their cheeks as a goodbye. But even after Dustin had pointed all of this out to Mike and everyone had agreed with his assessment and dropped the subject, Eddie had never stopped thinking about it.

In more recent times, he’d begun hoping that maybe all the work he was putting in was actually coming to fruition. He still had a long way to go in his eyes, but he couldn’t complain about the fact that he was currently holding the girl he was secretly in love with while laying on his bed, in the room she had helped clean, with his tummy full of the food she’d prepared. Would it really be too much of a sin to push things further a little bit? To start figuring out where he stood compared to everyone else in her life?

“What about you?” Eddie asked, hand coming up to brush her broken curls out of her face.

“Hm?”

“Do you like someone at school?”

“Not really, no,” she muttered, and he could feel her heart rate pick up under his own chest.

“What about Gareth?”

“Ew,” she said instantly, making him snort. “I love him, but I don’t like him like that. He’s like… Like an annoying brother. Did you know he snores?”

“Be glad all he did was snore. I’ve heard him fart in his sleep and it’s not pretty,” she chuckled. “Be honest now though,” he paused dramatically. “Do I snore?”

“You don’t snore,” she lifted her head, chin hovering where her cheek had been. “Do I?”

“Yeah. Thought we were gonna get kicked out of the library today, it was like an earthquake,” he said, making her gasp and slap his side. “No, you don’t snore, darling. You slept like a baby.”

“What about you though?”

“Do I sleep like a baby?”

“No - Do you like someone?”

“Not really,” now it was his turn for his heart rate to pick up. He hoped she couldn’t feel it under her hands that were now between her chin and his chest.

“What about Chrissy?”

“What about her?” he was confused.

“Dunno. The guys said you weren’t friends until recently and I just wondered. She’s pretty.”

“I suppose so, yeah,” Eddie thought about Chrissy for a bit. He did think she was pretty, but in the same way he thought a sunset was pretty. Nice to look at, pleasant to be around, but not particularly breathtaking. Not to him at least. He hoped Jason Carver thought Chrissy was as stunning as the way he thought Dottie with her wild hair lying on top of him right now was. She deserved that kind of adoration. “I don’t really see her that way. She’s a good friend, though. I told her she should talk to you, I think you’d get along.”

“Why?”

“Why I think you’d get along?” he asked for confirmation, Dottie nodded. Because I’m in love with you and she’s gonna be my maid of honor slash best woman slash whatever that shit’s called at our wedding. “You’re in World History together, right? You’re both sweet, and kind, and caring. And you both like Elton John. And Queen!”

“Everyone likes Queen.”

“Yeah, but not everyone has their records. I don’t. You could talk about that with her, she owns all of them. She says her Dad always gets a new one for her when he’s on a work trip.”

“You really are good friends with her, huh?”

“Like you and Gareth,” he said, wanting to make it clear his eyes were not wandering. He didn’t need Dottie thinking he wasn’t interested in her. “Well, maybe without the sleepovers.”

“Isn’t it dumb though?” Dottie said, furrowing her brow in mild irritation. “How people just assume that if you’re friends with someone of the opposite sex you must be into them?”

“I mean, sometimes friends like each other.”

“Sure, yeah, but not all friends do. Like, no one thinks you and Jeff are dating and I’ve seen you two almost kiss sharing a mic. If you did that with Chrissy, people would think there’s something going on.”

“Dot, you know exactly why people think that,” he lifted an eyebrow. “Fuck Reagan, remember?”

Dottie sat up immediately, looking very rigid. He took his time sitting up too, but took it as a win when she grabbed his hand and began playing with his rings. It almost looked like she was preparing herself to drop a bomb on him, and he couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t necessary. He knew what she was gonna say before she even opened her mouth, because whatever she looked like right now, was exactly how Eddie looked like a few years back when Wayne found a very special magazine he’d bought in Indy hidden underneath his bed amongst all the other ones he didn’t care to put away properly most of the time.

“Eddie, there’s… there’s something you should-”

“I know,” he said, thumb ghosting along hers. “Me too.”

“You too?” she said, confusion and hope mixing in her eyes. He nodded.

“Darling, you love Rocky Horror. That’s kind of a dead giveaway.”

“I like musicals,” she tried to pull back her hand but he held on.

“You do. But we both know it’s not Rocky and Brad you’re into when you watch it.”

“And,” Dottie swallowed a big lump in her throat before continuing. “-that’s okay with you?”

“Why would I care? It’s not like I watched it for Janet,” he revealed, a knowing smile on his face.

“So you like… boys?” she asked, wanting to turn all the cards on the table upright.

“And girls,” he said, her eyes snapping back to his. “And you like girls?”

“And boys. Like you.”

“Like me.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds before she let out an airy laugh, like she had been holding it for a while. Eddie wondered if he was the first person she’d ever told this to. Maybe someday he’d tell her that Wayne wouldn’t care either, and when it happened, she’d tell him that her Auntie Rachel didn’t mind as well, but for now, this shared secret would stay between the four walls of Eddie’s bedroom that no longer smelled like mold or vinegar. It smelled like home.

“Have you…,” Dottie began, not knowing how to ask. He picked up on what she meant instantly.

“Yeah. A couple of times at The Hideout. The guys don’t know though.”

“Do you think they’d have a problem with it?”

“I’m not sure, but I don’t think I’m ready to find out yet,” he said honestly. She nodded in agreement. “Have you?”

“Just one time. A kiss at a party. We were playing Truth or Dare.”

“Real steamy,” he joked, and she pushed him lightly.

“I was fifteen, okay? It was enough to send me into cardiac arrest.”

“I bet. I thought I was having a weird trip my first time. Didn’t help that we definitely smoked some strange shit before.”

“I feel silly now,” she admitted. “I thought you’d be upset.”

“Come here.”

He opened his arms and she crawled between his legs, squeezing his middle. He rocked them both side to side for a bit to make her giggle and loosen up. Eddie had a good feeling about where they were headed after this and let himself enjoy it, knowing that the knot in his stomach he’d identified as jealousy had begun unraveling. She didn’t like anyone at school and now she knew that he didn’t either. This was good. Things could grow on fertile ground, and he was doing a damn good job at prepping the soil. It was time, he felt, to turn up the heat.

“Hey,” he said, and she hummed in acknowledgement, not lifting her head from his shoulder. “So, you know my birthday is this week, right? Jeff was telling me today that we could have a movie night in his basement. You game?”

“On Thursday?”

“I was thinking on Friday after Hellfire. And on Thursday you can come over and we can, like, hang out? Wayne said he’s gonna get a cake, and I’d kinda really like to spend the day with you both. Nothing big. We can still do homework and stuff, I mean, I’m only halfway done with my portfolio and-”

“I’d love to come. Count me in, birthday boy.”

“Great. I’ll tell Wayne later.”

Later that night, when Dottie was tucked into her own bed after two long days filled with very interesting conversations, she pondered on Gareth’s words. Show him what he’s getting with you if he grows some balls, he had said. Just before she fell asleep, a sudden thought entered her brain and stuck to the front pushing away everything else. Maybe I am the one that needs to grow some balls.

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

[justaredheadf1fan]

O Canada, we're back!

Masterlist

I can't really remember when was the last Canada GP I watched, so I'm excited for this! Plus, this weekend I CAN watch almost everything live, so that's good, and I'm more stoked even because of that 🤓

While I watch the interviews and FP1 (this is what I'm currently watching) and FP2 today, I have a few topics to comment on until something happens. This might be a longer than usual post since I have several things built up that I've saved during the whole week, so brace yourselves 🤪

First of all, AUSTRALIA. That was amazing news. Seriously, I'm happy we get Melbourne until 2035 at least. That means if some plans fall through in the next few years, if I end up going to Australia as a second option to escape Spain for good, I'll be able to go to the circuit to see a race live. Which would be mental.

Since I've paid little to no attention to FP1 with less than 10 minutes to go while I write this (although I just saw a groundhog crossing the track right in front of Carlos 😂), I'm jumping to another one of the topics I had in store for today. I wanted to make a separate post last Monday after sleeping on what had happened in Bakú, but I was so tired these past few days I couldn't bring myself to it, so here I come.

Team orders are nothing new. We all know it, we've all seen them going around for years, no big deal. But what I think is shitty as fuck is Mclaren trying to make Daniel stay behind Lando once again when he was clearly doing better. Which makes me question whether until now they had real reasons to do it in the first place, but I believe it to be a Mclaren problem towards Daniel, honestly. Then we have Lando crying like a baby when the team finally concedes that Daniel deserves to be ahead for once. WTF? That temper tantrum was something embarrassing coming from a 22-year-old. It's so very sad that the only person who actually gives a shit about Daniel is Andreas, even if he doesn't always come through and defend him, he at least usually does what everyone else should do once in a while. Considering he's driving a fucking tractor, but that's another subject. Absolutely ridiculous. And what drives me crazy is that he's still too good of a person and never has a bad word and beats himself up first before blaming anyone else. And even if it's not his fault at all.

Now onto the porpoising that's given everyone so many headaches thus far. Finally, the FIA have decided to do the intelligent thing and have interfered. I know nothing about specifics since I'm no engineer, but too little too late if you ask me.

One of the Spanish commentators on DAZN very accurately said they should've never let it get this far and they should've interfered before the actual season started. It's sad that drivers needed to be in pain so that these morons decided to do their stupid jobs at last. I have no trust in their measures being effective at all at this point, but we'll have to see.

And I agree with the tweet that follows this part and I also agree with it and with the comments George has made when it comes to this. Something bad will happen and the FIA will react too late. There will be an incident at some point due to this massive porpoising in the cars and I don't even want to imagine the consequences.

Onto more fun stuff now, yesterday the pit lane was flooded due to the storm that rolled up almost suddenly (or suddenly, period) after what looked like a pretty nice day. It looks like this is going to be an entertaining weekend without knowing what the weather will bring us until the time comes. Like we needed more tension, huh? Let's see what happens but it looks interesting, at least.

I was going to focus more on FP2, but honestly I haven't really paid attention since it looked like nothing was happening at all. Maybe I missed something important apart from all the messages about the porpoising, a couple incidents, etc. What I have seen are those black clouds in the sky roaming the track. Jesus, that weather is nuts!

So, tomorrow I'll be missing FP3 in the morning, which I'll watch after work and then we have Quali. That I can see on time, which is the important thing for tomorrow. So, until then, laters gators.

Peace out!

[beeroses]

I’ll take the lot

FanFic Friday are starting to feel more like FanFic Mondays... sorry for the delays! Your picture inspired stuff @rebelwrites, and apparently, a lot of stuff..!! So here’s a whole lot of Bishop fluff thrown at all of you! If you wanna be added to the taglist, please holler, I’ll be glad to!

Warnings : Pet names are female (Querida, Reina) but no other descriptions made, slight language warning, Angel’s still a douchebag, sorry, it’s a theme I guess..!

Gif credits to gif maker, Mayans credit to Mayans makers

- So, Querida, what do you think?

- This is absolutely beautiful, Obispo, I just think it’s really funny that out of everywhere in the State you could’ve chosen, you went for San Luis Obispo County, you answered!

- Ahh come on Querida, I chose the Moonstone Beach not Obispo County, don’t laugh!!! I chose this place because I’ve heard you get to see the most beautiful sunsets in the country, here.

- Have you gotten soft, Presidente? you asked, smirking.

- No I haven’t, he coughed slightly and then you heard him mumble : it’s just really hard to find a place more beautiful than you…

You smiled to yourself, the man was pretty damn near perfect. You’ve had ups and downs, things had gotten crazy with the club then had calmed down, but whatever was going on around, your beautiful boyfriend made sure to spend time with you, to take you out and to go away with you. He never once put you aside deliberately and always included you in every aspect of his life. Crazy lives you two were living, but you wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

- I love you, Obispo, and I love this place, you smiled.

He took your hands in his and smiled, looking out in the distance. He looked deep in thought but when didn’t he? You enjoyed the breeze coming from the ocean as you kept looking at the horizon. He was right, this place was absolutely breathtaking. You knew he had something on his mind because he kept fidgeting with his fingers and yours, while holding hands. You never wanted to pry and sometimes, things were just better the less you knew, but after a while in absolute silence, you got a little bit nervous.

- Is everything ok, Cariño ?

He almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of your voice. Very, very deep in thoughts, indeed.

- I’m sorry Querida, I spaced out.

- Yeah, I noticed… Anything you wanna talk about? you tried.

- Actually, yeah, I think I should. Looks like the perfect time to…

His words trailed off when the both of you heard :

- HEY PREZ!

- You’ve GOT to be kidding me…

You looked over Bishop’s shoulder only to see the Reyes brothers coming your way, rapidly. Angel having cotton candy in his hands, EZ carrying his childish smile around like a trophy for the best brushed teeth in the entire universe. Bishop looked annoyed to no end.

- Hey Prez, what a pleasure! Out of everyplace you could’ve gone to for your day off, we come to the same one! Angel said, excited by the coincidence and clearly not reading the room.

- Out of Every. Goddamn. Places. Bishop mumbles.

The Reyes brothers invite the two of you to spend the rest of the evening together and you both accept, even though you feel like Bishop is long gone in his head again. Although you loved Abbott and Costello to absolutely no end, you were almost mad at the unexpected meet.

*****************************************************************************************************

It both always bothered you and never did, the fact that, as Presidente, Obispo rarely had time off. You managed with the time you had, the evenings when he left early, the lazy Sundays, he would allow himself, sometimes, the lunches he’d bring at your job so you could eat together. Therefore, it took a couple of weeks until he got a full weekend off. You had decided to go North a little and settle for a more deserted destination, near the Joshua Tree National Park. You knew, for a fact, that whatever Bishop wanted and felt ready to share with you hadn’t left his thoughts yet. You had seen the wrinkles on his forehead, the ones he only got when he was deeply worried about something. It stuck from the second he got interrupted by the impossible comedic duo up until you settled in your room, feet away from the park.

- Wow, you’re going all out, Obispo! you teased.

- Well, I try to make it right to mi Reina.

- You know you don’t have to pull all the stops, like this! I’m very happy at the littlest things, you know that!

- I do, he said, pulling you in his arms, but I really want this to be perfect, just like you, he whispered in you ear.

The day went on nicely, you brought yourself a picnic to enjoy while enjoying the beauty and peace of the park. Everything was going absolutely perfectly. Towards the evening, Bishop pushed an outfit towards you, something a little more fancy than you had thought but, what the hell, if your man wanted you wearing that outfit, you’d obliged, especially since the frown had seem to disappear along the day. You walked out of the bathroom and saw Obispo look at you, almost stunned, something very deer-in-the-middle-of-traffic, like. You could’ve almost sworn you saw the man blush. But he turned his head, making sure he had everything, mumbling how gorgeous you were, almost more to himself than to you. You saw him fumble with the hotel key, his keys, his wallet, and stumbled on his own feet. He looked like a baby animal just learning to deal with it’s legs. You laughed at his sudden awkwardness.

- You ok there, El Presidente? you asked, a smirk stapled on our face.

- I’m fine, of course, yes, I’m fine. You look stunning, Querida, did I tell you?

- Not directly, but the fact you don’t remember how to use your legs correctly said it for you… you laughed. Come here.

You pulled him towards you and made him face you.

- Will you finally tell me what’s going on with you? You’ve been so.. distant, in your head, lately.

- Yeah, I will, I promise.

- Tonight?

- Tonight, he agreed.

You left, hand in hand, and walked to a car Obispo had ordered to take you to a gorgeous restaurant, which had a beautiful terrace. You sat at your table and ordered drinks. Obispo kept your hand in his at all time. You could sense he was ready to talk about whatever’s been troubling him over the past couple of weeks.

- So, Querida, after everything we’ve been through, you know, it’s nice to be able to get away, like this, just us, he said, running his thumb on the top of your hand.

- It’s.. you started.

- PRIMO! Alvarez said, just walking in with his wife and coming towards you. What are the odds, my man?

- I’d say pretty good, lately… Bishop stated.

Alvarez and his wife took a seat at the table next to you and chatted you guys all night. You came back very late at the hotel and knew the moment was gone. Again. Early the next morning, Bishop received a phone call from Taza and you guys had to cut your trip short, putting an axe, once again, on that long overdue conversation.

*****************************************************************************************************

You got woken up by Obispo travelling back and forth across the room, grabbing clothes and throwing them in a duffle bag.

- You going on a run? you asked him, surprised as he hadn’t told you about it.

- No, we are, he answered.

- I’m sorry, who?

- You and me. We’re going away. Right now.

- But…

- No buts, Querida, let’s go!

The two of you left, at the crack of dawn, on his motorcycle, for somewhere only he knew. You drove for a while and stopped along the beach, where a beautiful boardwalk pushed into the ocean. Bishop took your hand in his and pulled you towards the furthest part of the walk, the one that pushed the furthest into the great Blue. You leaned on the railway to look further into the sea. The lightning of the morning sun making the water look like it was filled with diamonds. Everything about the scenery was absolutely breathtaking.

- Bish, what are we doing here? you asked, blown away.

- I wanted to find someplace special, since I think we’re long overdue to talk, you and me, he said.

- You didn’t have to kidnap me, you know, you said, smirk on display on your features.

- Pff, if I’d kidnapped you, you’d know, trust me, he winked.

You looked at the sea a little more and turned fully around to give your full attention to the man in front of you.

- So, Querida, I’ve been so lucky to have you stand by me through the years, you’ve been nothing but my…

- Bish, HEY, BISH!

- You’re FUCKING KIDDING ME. WHAT? Obispo asked, turning towards the voice. There stood half the Mayans. Gilly, Coco, Angel and EZ, on their motorcycles.

- What are you doing here, Prez, Gilly asked, isn’t there Templo in an hour?

- Yeah, I fell off that girl’s bed to be there in time, why are you here ? Angel asked.

- Do you even remember her name? EZ asked his brother.

- I don’t think she ever told me, Angel said smugly.

- WILL YOU JUST FUCKING SHUT UP? CAN’T A MAN ASK HIS GIRLFRIEND TO MARRY HIM, ROMANTICALLY, WITHOUT BEING INTERRUPTED EVERY SINGLE TIME? Bishop screamed at his brothers.

Then fell silence. The boys looked sheepishly at the pavement, gathering up excuses to run away as fast and far as they could. You looked absolutely stunned. Bishop looked enraged.

- Is that… Is it… It that what’s been bothering you, lately? you asked, wild eyed, tears welling up quickly to blur your vision.

Obispo just then realized your presence and how badly it went. He’d been trying to find a way, a place, a setting, everything to make sure it was the most romantic engagement, for his Reina and it ended being the worst possible way.

- It wasn’t bothering me… I just… he sighed deeply, I really wanted this to be perfect, you know.

- I didn’t choose you because you’re perfect, Obispo. I chose you because you’re you.

- Hopefully you also chose me because of my impatience and the fact I cannot, for the life of me, get rid of these punkasses.

- Like I said, I chose you because you’re you. And if you come with impatience, tantrums and those douchebags, then I’ll take the lot.

- Are you saying yes? Obispo asked, hopeful.

- Por supuesto, diciendo que si, mi Amor!!

Bishop took you in his strong arms and pulled you to his chest. The kiss you got was quite possibly the most passionate you’ve ever shared. The boys clapped and cheered, Gilly wolfwhistled and got a death stare from Bishop, therefore stopped immediately.

- Hey, just for the record, I never said I pulled tantrums, Bishop said, squinting at you.

- I said what I said, you winked as you felt him push the ring on your finger, squeezing your hand in his, lovingly.

@chibsytelford​ @yosoynicolexo @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo​

[didsomeonesaydaddydraco]

Fire meet gasoline | Draco Malfoy one shot

Request: yes, from the prompt list and by a lovely anon. (Hi! So I was wondering if you could make a Y/N x Draco fanfic with this prompt: “Please be quite, I can’t even hear myself losing the will to live”? The details would be like Draco and the reader had gotten into a fight about a stupid thing but make up in the end? Also...can it include fluff?)

Word count: 1,984

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin reader

Used prompt: 1. Please be quite, I can’t even hear myself losing the will to live

She was fire and he was gasoline. If people didn’t know better, they would have thought Malfoy and Y/L/N hated each other. They were always arguing about something, screaming at each other, ignoring the other, death stares and cold shoulders were the right description for their friendship. And it became even worse, when they smelt each other through the Amortentia potion. Draco became the most possessive and overprotective boyfriend ever, only letting his friends to talk to her. But just because he was acting like an arrogant asshole, it didn’t stop Y/N to be her own person and live her life the same way she did when they were only friends with the blonde boy. Of course Draco always picked a fight over this, and they would entertain the whole Common Room and sometimes even the Great Hall with their arguing. They were clever, one of the brightest in their year, so their fights were smart too. They were the explosion when fire meet gasoline. They were burning, but they burned in their love. 

Neither of them could have tell the exact reason of their argument. Both of them were tired, couldn’t sleep enough because they were up all night studying for their upcoming exams. The tiredness made them irritated and sensitive, and the whole week, they picked fights over the stupidest things. Like why was Draco always so mean to everyone who only wanted to be nice with him. Or why did she felt the sudden urge to help Harry and Ron with their essay for History of Magic. Malfoy even managed to get detention, because he almost hexed a first year old who picked a flower to his girlfriends as a thank you gift for helping him found his way back to the Hufflepuff Tower. They were fighting all week, and they were tired of it. But it wasn’t enough for them to actually push their pride aside and apologise to each other for being a bitch. No, they chose to argue over everything they could. 

“Do you think they will ever get tired of arguing so much?” Pansy Parkinson asked Blaise Zabini with a sigh, and rested her head on the chuckling boy’s shoulder. She was glad for the few minutes without Malfoy and Y/L/N, she had been listening to their bickering and arguing all day. On the other hand, Blaise found the couple rather entertaining, and often mocked them for being so stubborn and hot-headed. No matter what some people said, they were actually a match to happen. 

“I think they will argue even on their wedding day” Theodor Nott said with a huge smile and watched as the famous Slytherin couple entered the Great Hall. Both of their faces were red, and even though they were holding hands, it was evident they were still fighting about the same thing.

“Yeah, only if she doesn’t kill him until then” Blaise laughed with Grabe and Goyle, who were more occupied by the huge amount of food in front of them. Draco and Y/N joined their friends by the table, but they didn’t sit next to each other. Draco hopped down next to Blaise, and Y/N sat next Theo. Their friends watched them with amused looks.

“Look, all I’m saying, if you want to be with saint Potter, go and be with him” Draco spat and grabbed the plate from Y/N’s hand to put on some steamed vegetable for her. She rolled her eyes at his comment, and poured a glass of water and another glass of orange juice for him. Pansy chuckled at them. She found it funny, how they still cared and went along with their usual routine while they were clearly pissed at each other “But don’t forget that…”

“What?” Y/N raised an eyebrow at Draco “Don’t forget that your father will hear about this?” She bit her lip to stop herself from laughing, but her eyes were smiling “Please, you know that Lucius actually likes me” she shook her head and placed a stuffed potato on Draco’s plate.

“Bitch” Draco murmured and took away his plate from her “Everyone is head over heels for him, and I don’t know why” he rolled his eyes and aggressively cut the meat of his plate “And I don’t understand why’d you go and help him with that stupid essay, Y/L/N. You are a perfect pureblood, with a powerful family and you’re my girlfriend” he kept on renting. Their friends sighed in union and grabbed turned back to their food. It was going to be a very long night “Plus, should I mention that he is probably only using you for your looks? He is so pathetic, like who on Earth would actually be friends with an ork like Hagrid?” 

Pansy looked at her best friend, seeing the familiar look on her face. Y/N had enough of Draco’s childish behaviour, and how he was accusing everyone for every single thing, acting like he was so perfect. It was one thing when he was acting jealous and obsessive with her, but she couldn’t stand hearing him talk shit about nice and pure people like Hagrid. He was one of her favourite teachers, and she just wanted to put him in a bubble and protect him from the cruelty of real world. And she was certainly tired of arguing with him all day. She thought they were over the little incident, which was actually just a quick study session with Harry and Ron in the library, but it looks like Malfoy couldn’t drop it and believe that they were only friendly with her when they hugged her in the end. Those two would have failed History of Magic if she didn’t help them with their essay. But mostly, she was tired of hearing Draco talk and talk and talk and talk. She understood why Lucius was usually so annoyed when his son talked. Draco had the tendency to overdramatise things and make them look like it was the reason of the world ending soon. 

“Shut up, Draco” she said and put down her fork. Y/N felt a headache approaching, and she couldn’t afford resting for the rest of the day. They had an important Potions test on Monday, and she didn’t want to spend her whole weekend in the library. Not, when they had plans in Hogsmeade. She stood up and made her way out of the Great Hall. She needed space and silence, and she couldn’t get neither there. Malfoy was fast on his feet, rushing after her, and stopping her by grabbing her hand. They were standing in the middle of the Hall, most of the students’ eyes on them.

“Excuse me?” He said with concern. He didn’t mean to upset her and make her angry. He knew his behaviour wasn’t the best, and how he acted was a little bit toxic, but this whole love thing was so new to him. He never thought he could someone like he loved her, and he certainly believed nobody would ever love him. Not until he realised why he felt his blood boiling in his veins every time he was Y/N with a boy. And not until he realised why he was always so excited when he saw her, and why he felt that strange feeling in his stomach when she would hug him or just touch him. He was in love with her. Deeply, crazily and madly in love, and he didn’t plan to let her go so easily. That boy, honestly wanted to spend the rest of his life by her side. Marrying her, buying their own mansion and filling it with little Dracos and little Y/Ns. 

“Please, be quiet. I can’t even hear myself losing the will to live” she said annoyedly and tried to free her hand from his grip, but Draco was stronger. She looked up at him with a determined look, ready to tell him to go and fuck himself, but the amused look on his face confused her.

“Drop the attitude, woman” he said and bend down just enough to be able to pick her up and through her on his shoulder. He knew she wasn’t used to be told what to do, so it always silenced her when he did it. 

“Draco, put me down right now” she commanded, but he acted like he didn’t hear her. All eyes were on them, their own group of friends laughing at the pair. They knew this was their way of ending the argument and making up, so they continued their meal with the thought of not having to worry about the scene they would walk up to in the Common Room.

“Come on, princess” Malfoy playfully patted her butt and made his way back to the Slytherin Common Room. He smiled innocently at the students who were passing by them, looking at them strange and wondering why on Earth he was carrying a cursing Y/N on his shoulder. 

When they finally reached Draco’s dorm room, she refused to say anything. She just let Draco drop her on his bed and watch her pouting and looking up at the ceiling. He always found his girlfriend rather cute when she was mad at him, which she was a lot of time. He didn’t even know why they made such a big deal out of his jealous tantrum. They should have been so used to it by now. He gave up and with a sigh, he climbed on top of her, so she no other choice but to look at him. 

“Baby” he said in a soft voice, kissing the top of her noise and nudging it with his “Don’t be like this” 

“Piss of, Malfoy” she turned her head and stared at the picture of the two of them, hugging each other. It was taken last summer, when they visited the beach together and spent the whole day playing in the water, chasing each other in the sand, and cuddling under the stars, making future plans and talking about baby names for their kids. Even though they both knew they had plenty of time for those things, it was something very intimate and heartwarming, talking about their future together.

“I know you love me” he laid down next to her, and pulled Y/N on his chest.  He played with the ends of her ponytail. It was something that calmed down both of them “And you know that I love you” he tilted her head just enough to see her beautiful pace. She wasn’t angry. She was annoyed with him. She didn’t understand why he had to act like a baby when he was almost eighteen years old. They could have spared so much time for themselves. 

“No, I hate you” she buried her face in the crock of his neck. She breathed in his amazing scent, and felt how the stress and annoyance slowly left her body and mind. She relaxed under his soft touch, and let herself to enjoy the small kissed he was showering her face with.

“You can hate me as much as you want, as long as you don’t leave me” he said with a smile, and with a sudden movement, she was under him. She blushed at the way he looked at her. It was pure love, lust, admiration and loyalty. She knew he was the last one who would have heart her. Draco might have been the biggest cry baby ever, but he knew when he had to act like a man and protect his lover. 

“How could I ever leave you, you annoying little twat?” She laughed and pulled him down by his tie and kissed him sweetly. They both smiled in the kiss, and knew they were done fighting. At least for the day. 

[wyn-n-tonic]

Golden, Like Daylight -- Part IV

Word Count: 1,925 Warnings: PTSD. Drug use. Ben Affleck. Panic attacks. Bullet wounds. Smut (not explicit but it's there). A/N: Your kind words mean literally everything to me and I have been sobbing between the warmth shown to me over this series and also how much I love Francisco Morales and want the absolute best for him.

MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX

Gif by: @uuuhshiny

Luna hasn’t stopped wailing since Sunday, the one and only day Frankie said he wouldn’t be able to call.

It’s Thursday and both their lungs are close to giving out.

One Morales woman hyperventilating herself into fitful sleeps, the other only sobbing through held breaths in stolen lonely moments of peace and quiet.

Kristyn had taken up residence in the spare room, making sure Leah slept and ate. She was the one who cashed in Leah’s sick days with the school, forging a bullshit sick note when she went into work.

Leah is currently distraught because her husband might be dead in South America, we don’t know.

That’s what the first one said, dashed out on the keyboard in a petty moment of frustration. She might be the only one of Leah’s sisters who didn't want to lob his fucking head off every time she shed a tear but it didn’t mean she never wanted to do it.

Patient is suffering from a prolonged migraine and intensive nausea. Follow up appointment scheduled for next Thursday at 9am.

That should fucking do it but she’ll have to start checking off the vacation days soon. Dip into family leave for Luna.

Alexa held her on that first Monday, talking her through the panic in a puddle of spilled coffee. The paper cup splashing across their knees in the hallway as concern emanated from the AP Lit room at their backs.

Somewhere at the base of the Andes, her husband was being pried out of a crashed helicopter by the only other men she’d ever truly loved. William was shot, Benny was reckless. She felt it all in her body as she was driven home, helped into the shower, held in her bed but not by the arms she craved.

“He's coming home,” Deana brought dinner that night, her big sister cutting into her steak like she was a child at risk of choking again, “he will do anything he can to make sure of that.”

“What if he doesn’t, D?” Leah’s taken on the stare, everything and nothing all at once, “what if he doesn’t come home this time?”

“I promise you, Lee, okay?” She reaches out to push aside hair damp with tears, “I've never seen a man so in love.”

“Yeah…” she’s quiet, “he promised me too.”

And she told him to stop making promises because he doesn’t keep them.

I think you put a baby in me, Francisco Morales.

The tears well over her eyes, spilling onto already salt stained cheeks.

He made love to her like it was the last time he would ever see her, the last chance he would ever get. He poured his entire being into her, drunk off the feel of their bodies together. She could feel him in the hollow of her ribs, an aching that called out for the comfort of his beating heart against hers again.

Would that be so bad?

She sobbed out, startling Luna’s own ragged cries again, afraid that she would never know warmth against her cold hands again.

—————

“Hey,” they're huddled against the onslaught beneath a barely-there cliff, labored breathing in tandem, “you still with me?”

Frankie’s panic attack came on slowly, a rolling storm in the distance the moment the helo crashed in the valley.

Bad landing.

His fight or flight response has his lungs in a vice grip but he still manages a laugh, “I think I should be the one asking you that.”

“You know it’s gonna take a lot more than a stray bullet to fuck me off,” he’s smiling but Frankie knows how much blood he’s lost, how long it takes for a wound like that to clot without medical intervention.

It’s true, it’ll take a lot more than a stray bullet to take William Miller but that was before, when they had back up. Out here, though? Surrounded by his brothers in arms? Having done what he just did?

Francisco Morales has never felt more alone.

“Fish,” William hits his knee against his, “where are you?”

His eyes refocus on the tepid water pounding all around him, the world coming back as he takes a deep breath, “are you afraid, Will?”

“You gotta be more specific, Frank, I’m terrified of everything.”

He’s quiet when he speaks, “me too,” barely above the downpour.

He sees Will nod in his peripheral, “I know.”

“Will, I’m afraid I’ll never see them again,” and when he chokes, he realizes he’s been crying.

“No, you can’t think like that.”

“I know, but I can’t stop it either, like…” trailing off, he lifts his face to the pressure of the water; it’s the sweetest thing he’s felt in days, “what if this is the last shower I ever take?”

“Fish…” Will reaches for him but he’s cut short.

“No, listen to me. If anything happens to me out he—“

“Nothing is going to fucking hap—"

“Shut up and let me finish,” his rage and sadness is burning hot through him, it takes everything within his being not to choke on air as he speaks again. “If anything happens to me out here, Will, take care of my girls. Please.”

The blond nods his head, heavy with exhaustion and pain, “until the very end of my life, Frankie.”

The relief that spreads through his body is better than any drug he ever tried, he feels himself slipping into an upright sleep, his heart at peace for the first time since he left his bed.

“But,” Will’s voice catches him on the edge of consciousness, “I would also face down the end of my life to make sure you see them again, do you understand me? If the only thing standing between you and a bullet is me, don’t fight. Leave me there and run like hell. You’re going back to your family.”

“But if I don’t make it…”

“Fish,” Will's laugh is drenched in the space between them, “are you saying it’s your last will and testament for me to marry your wife?”

“Fuck off,” his words are clipped, strained, “and don’t call me Fish.”

—————

They still, eyes up to the screen of the baby monitor as they hold their breath for another sound from Luna’s room. The baby settles back into silence, her small chest rising and falling on the grainy feed.

He remembers Leah opening the military grade surveillance equipment at the baby shower, the shake of her laughter as she held onto Benny’s shoulder to anchor herself to the chair.

“Should we check on her?” It’s small, a rushed question of a concerned mother.

“I said a baby monitor, Benjamin, not a prison security camera.”

“Absolutely not,” Ben grabs her hand, “This is better than any of that shit you’ll find at Target. Video means there’s no wondering either, you can just look up and assess the situation, more rest. That’s important, you’ll need to savor the little that you get.”

He pushes a lock of hair from her face, damp with the tears of the day and the sweat of the night, “no, baby, we don’t want to disturb her.”

“Yeah,” Will chimes in, his beer bottle held loosely in his hands, “Frankie should’ve been training you on sleep deprivation this whole time, you’re spec ops yourself now.”

“But what if she wakes up?”

“Well…” the corner of his mouth lifts to close the fan at the corner of his eyes, “it’s a good thing she can’t see us through that thing, right?”

“Francisc—“ the irritation of his name is finished in a heady moan lured from her body by another slow drag of his hips.

The crook of his nose slots against hers as he finds her lips again, the warmth of the room around them is nothing compared to their mouths on each other. Bathing in shared heat, her fingers entwine into the curls at the crown of his head, the other hand palm up to his chest. And as the beating of his heart races towards her burning touch, he submerges himself once again.

His firm grip holds the hinge in her leg, fingers digging into the sensitive skin that fills her lungs with fits of laughter and light. He braces himself against the bed, the aching in his forearm dulled by the soft, breathless whimpers intoxicating his entire being.

His voice is washed out when he finds it, “mi sol,” lips dragging across her own, “mis estrellas.”

Her eyes find his, heavy with admiration and trust. “Francisco,” she is drunk and drowning in the love of this man, “finish me.”

He shifts to cradle her jaw and as he trails his other hand up her thigh, he sinks within her once more. Finding his release against her own, he is convinced they’ll never be able to fully untangle again.

He presses a kiss to her nose.

My sun.

Her forehead.

My stars.

Her lips.

My whole sky.

—————

I think you put a baby in me, Francisco Morales.

He snaps back to reality, Santi and Tom’s voices echoing all around them.

His head is hot, he’s pushing past Will with concern set so deeply in his eyes he fears he’ll break right there.

Would that be so bad?

“Fucking bullshit!” Tom’s face is red, Santi having finally said what all of them are thinking.

He feels the weight of Leah in every fiber of his being, slotted perfectly against his body.

“We're all on the hook for this, are we not?”

I should’ve said no.

“God damn this fucking horse! Stop it!”

All those years blinded by loyalty to authority, Frankie never talked back to his leader but the man in front of him isn’t a leader. He’s a whiny child who’s lost his toys and Frankie hates him.

Biting back what he wants to say, he holds his hand up in a show of camaraderie, “Relax.” His finger quirks up as if he’s scolding a tantrum, “Relax. We’re not picking at the fucking scab right now, okay?”

Tom stares him down, like he’s weighing an argument against him too but Frankie’s done. He meets the taller man’s gaze, this man he would’ve died for.

“One foot in front of the other. Come on.”

This man he almost has died for.

“Let's go. Jesus fucking Christ.”

His true allegiances don’t lie to this man anymore or the gun at his hip. Not the money or the mules. He left that splintered fantasy about twenty feet back.

He’d throw this man over if it meant going home right now.

The money too.

None of it is worth a goddamn thing to him if it means he’ll never see the way that the light bounces off the gold in Leah Morales’ eyes ever again.

The same honeyed flakes in the brown of his daughter’s bright gaze.

I think you put a baby in me, Francisco Morales.

He made love to her like it was the last time he would ever see her, the last chance he would ever get. He wanted to pour his entire being into that woman, ensure that he would live on if lost to the Colombian jungle off a narco's bullet.

Would that be so bad?

He was scared but, truly, would it be so bad?

But it would be because he could truly leave her with nothing. No money, no husband, no father to her babies.

He lost count of the days he hadn’t called.

He makes his way up the mountain, following Tom’s bitching, wishing it was Leah leading him home instead.

TAG LIST: @justanotherblonde23 | @greeneyedblondie44 | @icanbeyourjedi | @princess76179 | @bbuckysbeardd | @notcookiebelle | @knivesareout | @empress-palpat1ne​

[inskz]

lucky charm - lee minho

pairing - lee minho x reader

genre - college!au, best friends to lovers, very cliche fluff (lucky girl starring lindsey lohan kinda vibes???)

words - 4k

note - this is just a cute little drabble i wrote while im still waiting for my covid test results to come back so that i can leave my room and see the sun again 🤪 pls be careful everybody take care of your health 💚 enjoy!!!

- - - - -

“You must be kidding me,” you sigh when you see Minho’s hand has turned into a fist, his rock crushing miserably your scissors. Once again, you lost at rock, paper, scissors. And once again, you’re the one that is going to wash your best friend’s dishes that have piled up in is tiny kitchen sink throughout the week.

“Fuck that. This is so unfair,” you grumble, throwing the dishtowel in Minho’s stupid yet perfectly chiseled face.

You make a beeline for his bed, which is actually only a few steps away from the kitchen. Being a broke college student definitely doesn’t allow him to rent a spacious studio, let alone a two-room apartment. You throw yourself headfirst onto his uncomfortable mattress, whose springs always poke your back at night.

“Life is so unfair,” your friend mocks you, dragging out every vowel of his sentence dramatically.

No doubt, you would be strangling him at that very moment if you weren’t so busy playing dead, hoping he would forget about your pitiful existence.

But there is no way mister Lee Minho would miss out on an opportunity to have his gross plates cleaned by someone else. Grabbing onto your ankle, he drags you out of bed until you plop down on the dirty carpeted floor (Minho has the unfortunate tendency to procrastinate vacuuming too). At this point, you are fake crying, throwing a literal tantrum, like a 6 years old child would.

“Life is unfair!” you yell, your feet kicking in the air in pure anger.

At least it is to you. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been lucky. The only instance you got remotely close to it was when you found a four-leaf clover last summer. Well, only if you disregard the fact you stepped into dog poop  on your way to picking it. Oh and that you were wearing brand new white Converse. 

On the other hand, it seems like the boy has the whole crew of the Olympus gods on his side. Not one day goes by without his guardian angel manifesting its presence. 

Minho has always been the lucky type. The type to get an extra nugget in his box of 10. To find 20 dollars bills on the ground. To win every single Instagram giveaway he participates to (and lord knows how much he likes participating to them). 

But how can you be mad at him when he always happily shares his food with you, invites you to the restaurant without you even asking, and gives you his prizes, pretending he doesn’t need them? You don’t believe him when he says he see no use in a panda onesie or a waterproof bluetooth speaker. Deep down, you know it’s his way to silently love you. 

But well, you can still blame him for occasionally taking advantage of your misfortune to make you do his dreaded house chores, just like right now. 

Everyone thinks you are a bizarre duo. Even you can’t fathom how in hell you two became best friends, considering how awfully your first encounter went three years ago. 

On orientation day, he asked you for the time, probably because his phone was dead (or maybe because he was dying to talk to you?)

Without hesitation, you lifted and rotated your wrist so that you could see your watch. Little did you remember; you never actually owned a watch and you were holding a fancy 7 dollars iced coffee, which, of course, did not have a lid on because plastic is bad for the environment (duh). 

Minho couldn’t help but burst out in hysterical laughter when the whole drink spilled on your jeans. For your defense, you didn’t sleep at all the night before  since you were terrified of being alone in your new dorm room the first few days (weird stuff happens all the time in dorms, okay?). If he had asked you for your name, you probably wouldn’t even have been able to tell him. 

But Minho thought you were the funniest person on campus, and he really needed a clown like you to entertain him throughout his endless college semesters. That’s what he told you anyways. Not that he thought you were the cutest human being he had ever seen. 

Why would he when you are the literal definition of a mess: always having toothpaste stains on your sweater, bags under your eyes, messy hair, tripping and falling, missing buses, breaking things, losing stuff. 

Most of the time, you just forget your keys and Minho lets you crash at his place since he hasn’t got any roommate and he isn’t used to sleeping alone, especially without his cats. It surely isn’t because he loves waking up next to a very groggy but adorable you every single morning, no.  

Minho manages to bring you back to the countertop despite your reluctance. Positioned behind you, his arms trapping your body to make sure you can’t run away from your duties, he dips your hands into the soapy water, and you can’t help but squirm at the touch of an unknown substance sticking to a plate that has probably been soaking here for a week. You despise doing the dishes and your friend knows it.

You hear him giggle in your ear while he is playing with your arms like you are some type of marionette, making you to take the sponge and squeeze dish soap onto it. 

You’ve never been the kind to like proximity nor seemed to be Minho, but for some reason, you always end up glued to each other. You hate public displays of attention and pet names a little less when it comes from him. Or maybe you don’t hate it at all and actually crave it every single minute that goes by.

Before he has the time to come up with the Machiavellian idea to soak your pajamas in dirty water (because you know he would inevitably have at some point), you yank his hands off of you and start scrubbing angrily the dirty cups. 

Minho stays behind you anyways, observing your every move, his chin propped up on your shoulder like a curious little bird. To be honest, his presence is kind of getting overwhelming. But whatever, it’s not like his slightest touch makes your heart warm up in comfort or that he smells like fresh linen drying out on the porch of a cottage house on a sunny Sunday morning or anything. 

“You missed a spot. Here” he murmurs teasingly, his lips almost touching your earlobe, while he points at the handle of his hideous ‘world’s greatest dad’ mug Jisung gifted him last christmas. 

You know he has noticed the way you shivered violently at the feeling of his breath tickling your skin because he starts snickering loudly. 

“I swear to god if you don’t shut up and go seat on the couch, I’ll slap you so hard with this spatula you’ll regret you were even born,” you say, turning around suddenly to menace him with the plastic utensil. 

Of course, he isn’t afraid one bit. Right now, you really wish you could make the smug, but oh so attractive, look on his face disappear. 

“Alright, ma’am” he laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll let you do your thing”. He lets himself fall onto his dingy couch. 

You can hear him humming one of his favorite songs above the sound of the water running. It would probably be getting on your nerves if his voice wasn’t so pretty.  

“Chan’s sick, so we’re not going to the gym tomorrow night. Do you wanna eat tacos? El Huero has even better deals than usual” he asks you, scrolling mindlessly through his phone. 

“Aren’t the deals supposed to be on Tuesdays?” You frown and scrub a little harder the frying pan Minho has burnt the night before while trying to make chocolate chips pancakes for diner, because why eat savory food when you can have dessert for every meal, right? It is one of the few advantages of living without your parents you both truly enjoy. 

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Tomorrow,” he yawns, probably exhausted after what you put him through last night. You forced him to catch up on the entire season of Love Island because you desperately needed someone to bitch with, and what better partner than Lee Minho.  

You take a quick glance at him and see him stretching himself across the cushions like a cat. You always thought there was something feline about his features. While you’re drying the mugs with the dishtowel, your mind wanders uncontrollably, thinking about his piercing eyes, his delicate nose, the corners of his lips that curl up a little… 

All of the sudden, your hands freeze. Minho is too immersed in TikToks to notice the stupor on your face. “Wait. Today is… Monday?” you stutter. 

Alarmed by the sound of your voice, his eyes finally leave his phone’s screen to look up at you. “Yeah” he repeats slowly as if you are the dumbest person he has ever encountered. 

And you truly are. You are pretty sure your heart has stopped beating. Minho’s “world’s greatest dad” mug you’re holding slips between your fingers and comes crashing on the floor with a deafening sound. The pieces are now scattered all around you, making you unable to make out what’s written on it anymore. Not a big loss, if you ask. 

“Y/N, you know that’s my favorite mug!” he exclaims, leaping up from the couch. “I’m sure you did it on purpose,” he mutters while he’s trying to collect the small fragments, in vain. 

But you’re too shocked at this very moment to pay attention to the glare your friend is giving you. To be honest, Minho has only two moods: glaring at you or teasing you.  

“My interview,” you finally manage to say, and Minho’s eyes go wide as he realizes the critical situation you’re in. 

You check the time on the microwave: 10:45. In 30 minutes, you’re supposed to be on the other side of town, being interrogated by boring businessmen that are going to decide whether or not you’ll be accepted for a paid internship in one of the most reputable music label of the country. Basically, decide whether you’ll live a happy and fulfilling life, working in the sector you’ve always dreamed of or end up miserable with a boring office job and a massive college debt. 

“Holy shit,” Minho whispers. You can see a wave of panic washing across his face for a split second, but, as always, he manages to find his composure back immediately. 

He has never been the kind to lose his cool, except to scold you when you forget the names of his cats and their respective coats’ color (which you unfortunately often did forget). 

“What are you doing? Get dressed!” He tells you when he sees you’re still standing there dumbfounded in the kitchen, like the famous Robert Pattinson meme, wearing an oversize Kermit the frog shirt with a dozen holes in it and his favorite Adidas sweatpants you always stole from him.

“No, it’s too late. I can’t make it,” you mutter, your breath short. You’re paralyzed, as if there is a 20lbs rock sitting at the bottom of your stomach, pinning you to the ground. 

This isn’t bad luck, you think. This is karma. This is what you get for skipping classes to watch telereality shows in your bed with your best friend and not even realizing it isn’t the weekend anymore.

“Miss me with that bullshit.” He runs to his closet and rummages through his drawers, throwing every piece of clothing that’s on his way to find an appropriate outfit that would fit you. 

“You’re gonna go do this interview even if I have to drag you all the way there.” He pushes you into his bathroom since you still haven’t moved an inch. 

You manage to brush your teeth and your hair, fighting through the nauseous feeling that is building up in your tummy. 

When you come back to the living room, Minho has found dress pants and a sweater that might not look utterly ridiculous on you. He lets you change in a corner, while he runs around the room collecting all your essentials. 

“You’re coming?” you ask him when you see he is already wearing his puffer jacket.  

“You really think I’m gonna let you go all by yourself when you’re literally not even able to put your shoes on properly”. You are, indeed, struggling with your laces, as if your fingers are suddenly made out of butter. 

Minho ties them up for you and you literally feel like he’s your babysitter. You know you’re gonna hear about this for months – what are you saying- years! But all you can think about at the moment though, is the fact that sneakers are definitely not appropriate for an interview. 

He throws your warmest coat at you, grab his keys, and by some type of miracle, you’re both out to the door in less than 10 minutes. 

You try to call the elevator, but Minho grabs your arm and leads you to the staircase. His hand never leaving yours, he runs down the stairs and you have no choice but to follow him as fast as you can. 

You can’t count how many times you missed a step and fell at this particularly slippery spot, between the 5th and the 4th floor, but weirdly enough, it doesn’t happen today. 

When you finally reach the ground floor, you exit the complex and Minho hops on his old and rusty bike that he had attached to nearest tree the night before.

“There’s no way I’m riding behind you on this death machine,” you laugh nervously. The memory of that one time Minho convinced you to seat into his bicycle basket (as if you could even realistically fit in it) and you both fell seconds after he started to pedal is coming back to your mind.

Sure, it was after a long night of drinking, you were both tipsy and it was the only way to get you home since you had spent all your uber money at the bar, but still! You’re pretty sure the bruise on your butt hasn’t disappeared to this day.  

“Hurry up,” Minho groans, ignoring your complaint. You unwillingly seat on his flimsy pannier rack and wrap your arms around his torso. 

You haven’t even left, yet you’re already holding onto his puffer jacket for dear life. A giggle escapes your friend’s mouth (which you think is very inappropriate in such a desperate situation) before he lifts his feet off the ground and starts pedaling. 

You try to ignore the loud squeaking of the bicycle drive by shutting your eyes tighter and rehearsing your introduction you have prepared over and over in your head. No matter how hard you are trying, you can’t remember what you are supposed to say just after your age (which, as you can imagine, isn’t really far into your monologue). 

By the way the wind is lashing your face, you can tell Minho has picked up the speed. His breathing is getting louder, his heartbeat faster and you can’t help but think you’re probably way too heavy for him to bike you around like that. Maybe he shouldn’t skip his gym sessions with Chan so often. Or maybe you shouldn’t have eaten the leftover pancakes for breakfast after all.

You find the courage to open your eyelids and are pleased to see you’re already halfway there, probably because every single one of the traffic lights you encounter is green, and your friend is going surprisingly fast. Is luck finally starting to smile upon you? 

Your mad race comes to a halt when you reach the address of your interview. You hop off the bike and so does Minho who, by the way, is a panting mess. He’s barely able to catch his breath, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, but he’s beaming at you when he realizes you’re just on time. 

“Go” he gasps, pushing you in the direction of the building’s hall. 

You walk up to the glass door but as your hands are about to push it, you pull a 180. Your friend sighs loudly, already knowing what’s coming next. 

“Wait. No. I can’t do this. I’m not prepared” you tell him frantically. “I’m freaking out. I think I’m gonna pass out.” You are now walking in circles, mumbling incoherently. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

Your heart is racing in your chest and your hands are getting clammy at the simple thought of failure. But guess what? You can’t fail if you don’t even try! One more good reason to just go back to bed and forget about your sad life for a good 8 hours, right? 

“Y/N, you’re the most talented person I know, you’re gonna do just fine” Minho catches you in his arm to stop your endless pacing. You would probably think this gesture is endearing if it wasn’t just meant to make sure you couldn’t run for your life.  

“No, I’m not. What if I throw up in front of everybody like that one time during the Romeo and Juliet musical?” You look up at him and his face is only inches away from yours. You’re sure you would be swooning at how beautiful he looks if you weren’t so terrified at this very moment.

“You were nine,” your best friend says, and you swear you have never heard him speak to you in such a sweet tone before. His voice is like honey and lavander but it doesn’t soothe you like it should. 

You manage to break free from his embrace to crouch down, in an attempt to slow down your breathing. If only you had data left, you could be watching those short relaxing videos on your phone. They always work. But no, you had to spent it all on online games, just one week into the month. You really are beyond help.  

“Y/N I know you’re scared, but if you miss out on this opportunity, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life.” Minho is lowering himself so that you can hear him, even though you’re curled up in a ball. 

“And I’m warning you, I won’t want to hear you complain about it,” he adds, this whole situation obviously starting to get on his nerves. 

If you were him, you would have probably left a long time ago. But this isn’t your best friend’s way of behaving. You know he would never abandon you no matter how annoying you could be (and you could be very annoying sometimes). After all, he is always the one holding your hair while you puke in the toilets when you had a couple too many drinks.

It takes all your willpower to stand up but there is no other way, you have to do it. You can hear the time ticking dangerously in your mind, as if your brain had turned into a clock.

“You’re right. Slap me,” you say, looking at him straight in the eyes, dead serious. 

“Wha -“

“Slap some sense into me. They do that in movies when people are panicking. It’s like throwing a bucket of cold water in someone’s face. But clearly we don’t have a bucket and we don’t have cold wa- “ you start blabbering. 

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not gonna slap you!” Your friend isn’t usually that horrified at the thought of beating your ass. In fact, he has felt the desire to rip your head off more than once, especially when you’d steal all the duvet at night, but at this moment he is just scared you might have actually lost your mind.  

“Just fucking do it Minho!” you scream, your hands clenching the front of his grey hoodie he always looks so divine in. 

Minho has never obeyed you, and this is not the day he is going to start. 

He puts both of his hands on the sides of your face and crashes his lips onto yours. 

You would be lying if you said you have never imagined the day your best friend would kiss you. It happens pretty much every single time you look at his cute pout a little too long. But one thing is certain, it isn’t like you pictured it to be at all.

You were convinced your heart would go so wild it would burst out of your chest and your head would spin so furiously you’d lose your balance. You thought your stomach would fill with butterflies to the brim and your whole body would be on fire.

But none of that is happening. On the contrary, every single muscle in your body relaxes under his touch. The way his soft mouth presses gently against yours makes you calmer, almost at peace amongst all this turmoil. 

Minho is kissing all your tension and stress away and you catch yourself letting a sigh of relief escape your parted lips.

As if you have kissed him already hundreds of times in your past life, Minho feels like home. He’s a safe haven you can always take refuge in during troubled times. Ever since the day you met, he has never left your side.

When he breaks away from the kiss, you notice your breath isn’t so ragged and your mind isn’t so foggy anymore. You’re serene. His cold hands are still cupping your face, slightly squishing your cheeks, and you feel like an idiot sandwich for asking him to slap you seconds before.

“That can work too, I guess…” you mutter.  

“You’re okay?” he asks, staring at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen.

You just nod, unable to say one more word, and sprint to the entrance, not wanting to make your interviewers wait any longer than they already have.

“Good luck!” You hear him yell just before the door closes behind you and you can’t help but grin from ear to ear.

- - - - - 

Thirty minutes later, you finally step out of the fancy lobby to find a very bored Minho leaning against a tree, patiently waiting for you.

“You’re still here?”

“Of course, I am,” he says, his mouth full of croissant. He gives you a large iced coffee he probably went buying to kill time. Your lips unconsciously curl up into a smile when you notice it comes from the same chain that the one you spilled on your lap on the day you first met him. 

“How did it go?” he asks you, sticking his buttery pastry into your mouth so that you can take a bite.

“Way better than I thought” you answer, right after you swallowed. You hate the way flakes would always get stuck between your teeth. But Minho is always there to warn you about it before anyone else notices, and even pick them for you if you can’t manage to, which, when you think about it, is kind of gross. 

There are two things the boy knows about you: you’re the greatest pessimist on earth and you’d rather die than admit you were wrong (especially if it meant he was right). So for you to even say it wasn’t that bad, means it went phenomenal. 

“I don���t want to say ‘I told you so’ but I told you so.” He smiles so wide you can barely see his eyes anymore. You have to look away, otherwise you know you might become instantly blinded by love.

“Maybe I could use some more of your luck” you mumble, staring at your shoes and kicking the red leaves that were surrounding your feet on this sunny autumn morning. 

“Really? And what makes you think I’ll share it with you,” he teases you, leaning forward to incite you to look at him in the eyes. 

“That.”

Your hand finds the back of his neck and pulls him in, in order to close the space that is still left between your mouths.

At first, Minho stiffens, taken aback by your bold move. But soon enough, he caves into your touch. He kisses you back fervently, like he means it. 

His fingers entagle in your hair, his arm wraps around your waist and his chest presses against your body. You’re melting in his embrace, submerged by a wave of bliss which he alone seems to know the recipe. 

It feels new, yet so familiar. Like it was supposed to happen, like it was written in the stars. 

He tastes like croissant and Americano. Like fortune and fate. 

And you can’t help but think you’re the luckiest person on earth.

Who cares about winning the lottery when Lee Minho is your lucky charm? 

[taeyohonic]

stolen dances | chap. 8

summary: sometimes supporting the person you love is the hardest challenge you’ll ever face.

pairing: jeon jungkook x fem!reader

rating: m

warning: swearing

additional tags: f2l, ceo!jungkook, bestfriend!jungkook, shrink!yoongi, my best friend’s wedding meets 27 dresses (if the boss/secretary couple had happened), angst-y

words: 2200

links: prev. | next  [masterlist]

note: lower case letters intended

chapter summary: maybe there are too many red flags to ingore.

“what do you mean the menu changed?”, you hiss into the receiver, not caring how your colleague aches an eyebrow at your harsh tone.

“mr. jeon’s assistant called yesterday and demanded the gluten free pasta to be added instead of the duchess potatoes.” your caterer sounds as lost as you feel.

“but… the duchess is gluten free – now there’ll be a double pasta dish for entrée and sides”, you explain to the person who professionally cooks. never would you have imagined you’d be this upset about a vegetable.

“i’m doing what mr. jeon wants, ms. _____. my apologies.” yeah well, jungkook doesn’t know what he wants. his cold shoulder equals an iced crystal – your best friend has been mute even after getting back from his business trip. all the information you need as his unofficial wedding planner are thrown at you from different partners – like the caterer today or the florist last monday.

it’s seems like jungkook really wants to sabotage his own wedding to win this fight between the two of you. until now you’ve let him throw his childish temper tantrum, passively accommodating his changed decisions. but you’re drawing the line at the duchess potato.

“very well”, you say to the caterer. “i know you’re just doing your job – sorry for being rude. i can’t wait to taste… the gluten free pasta.”

the chef on the other end chuckles at your faked enthusiasm and you soon join.

“will you be there for the cocktail testing?”, he asks and you rummage through your desk, finding your planner in milliseconds.

“of course, it’s still on saturday?”, you ask, not trusting jungkook to change dates just to mess with your schedule.

after confirming the date, the two of you hang up and you start to pack up for the day. you’ll do the log entries for your students from home.

“everything okay, ___?”, your coworker jisoo questions, seeing you leave earlier than normal.

“yeah, don’t worry. i just… forgot an appointment. see you tomorrow”, you answer absently taking your prepacked lunch from the community fridge to eat later.

after taking two different trains and one bus, your self-made hummus is looking more like vomit than food as you stand in front of jungkook’s office building. but with your stomach in knots, you lose all appetite.

“miss ______, what a lovely surprise!”, the doorman greets you with an honest smile on his face. normally jungkook would send one of his town cars to collect you for your weekly lunch. to see you getting out of a bus worries the employee.

“how is the family, hanseo?”, you ask and answer his smile with one of your own.

“all well and healthy, miss! mr. jeon just got back from his meeting”, he informs you warmly and you bow in thanks.

with swift steps you move to the elevator, ready to make jungkook listen. arriving at the final floor, you greet his secretary with a short hug, your eyes already set on his closed door.

“may i go in?”, you ask mrs. yang – not really up to date on jungkook’s schedule. her knowing eyes stare right through your question.

“he’s all yours for the next hour; i’ll hold all phone calls.” you nod silently grateful for her discretion.

two loud knocks are the only forewarning jungkook gets before you barge into his office. your best friend sits at his desk, the top buttons of his shirt undone. his neatly styled hair and the reading glasses tell you that the last few hours were full of business decisions and negotiations.

his tired eyes look at you in surprise, before they cloud over with indifference.

“_____”

no ‘hey, how’ve you been the last week?’, no ‘did you manage to grab the credit card i forgot at the restaurant i stormed out of?’, no ‘i’m sorry, i canceled your favorite potato dish’.

“jungkook”, you greet him and hate yourself for how soft your voice sounds. your feet won’t allow you to move further into the room as your body stands still right next to the closing door.

a hefty silence sets around you, while the two of you muster the other. you notice the bags under his eyes – even with the expensive concealer covering the dark rings.

“_____”, your best friend says again, uncomfortable with the tension in his office.

“jungkook”, you answer, mimicking his tactic.

two estranged friends smile timidly at each other, before the CEO gets up from his seat and closes the distance. in front of you, he hesitates for a breath, but then you are in his arms. your winter coat and heavy bag create a barrier which jungkook crushes easily. he presses your body close to his chest, the suit jacket tightening around his shoulder blades.

you embrace him back, just as fiercely, and inhale his musky scent. he smells like love and you feel your eyes water.

“you’re a jerk”, you whisper against his neck, not ready to let go, but willing to work through your anger. the former idol huffs and buries his nose deeper in your hair. you can feel his breathe against your scalp and thank the lord with a silent prayer for taking a shower this morning.

“i know”, jungkook admits as he manages to squeeze you tighter at the same time.

“you’re a child”, you continue while drawing soft patterns across his shoulder blades with your fingertips.

“i know”

another silence follow – but it’s one without anger. it feels like going on vacation. nevertheless, problems need to be face, you’ve learned that from your shrink. so, with a heavy heart, you lose your embrace and try to step away from your best friend. after reluctantly holding on to you, he huffs and lets you go.

“have you eaten?”

“jungkook, we need to talk about this”, you tell him while the both of you sit on the leather couch. you have to suppress the impulse to take off your shoes, an old habit after the long nights spent in his office.

“when did you eat lunch, ____?”, he asks again and loses his suit jacket. the white button up shirt underneath looks a size too small, which troubles your heart greatly. jungkook doesn’t seem to notice, his focus remains on your eating habits.

“jungkook, i’ll eat later, promise”, you deflect and pat your bag with the hummus vegetable stew in it. your best friend doesn’t seem impressed.

“you’re upset because i haven’t told you about a close friend of mine”, you start, only to see him grimace at your wording.

“for five months”, he specifies.

“it never came up in conversation, jungkook. you… you don’t know all details of my life”, you justify yourself while mentally bowing at your backbone.

“yesterday, your mother invited me to their vow renewal, i can open a whole art gallery with your food pictures and i helped you plan a funeral for your living room plant last month”, jungkook replies astonished. “i even held the eulogy.”

yeah, fair, you’ll never forget seokjin’s oscar worthy crying scene in front of the calathea. even jimin was impressed.

“but you can’t introduce me to the guy accompanying you to my wedding?” there is a thick, and reasonable, accusation behind his words. you feel your hands sweat as you look at the tired eyes of your best friend.

“i’m afraid you won’t like him”, you offer. it’s the most logical explanation you could come up with after your phone call with taehyung. when truthfully, you are more afraid of the person yoongi will see in you face-to-face with jungkook.

but your best friend seems to buy your white lie. his face softens as he rests one hand on your knee.

“_____”, jungkook starts, “every friend of yours is a friend of mine.” you snort right into his words, not believing him for a second.

“you put my last boyfriend into jail.” the answering chuckle from him does not sound one bit apologetic.

“he was trash.” you know he’s right, still, his distrust was there before it turned out that your ex-boyfriend committed tax fraud.

“what about jisoo?”, you ask. “you’ve never warmed up to her.”

jungkook looks like he just swallowed something bitter at the name of your coworker.

“she hit on me.” his reveal shocks you.

“but she has a fiancé!”, you exclaim, only to see him roll his eyes.

“she hit on me”, he repeats unforgiving.

just… great.

“yoongi is different”, you say softly, not ready to reflect on jisoo’s audacity. it’s quite common for others to hit on jeon jungkook – he’s famous after all. but your own friend?

“let me be the judge”, jungkook demands equally soft and squeezes your knee.

“i’m not asking for your judgement, kookie”, you huff. you don’t need his approval. and yoongi sure as hell doesn’t want it.

“but”, you start again, “i think it’ll be best if you got to know him before the wedding.” you’ve thought about this a lot. it seems like the best course of action. even if you can’t picture yoongi and jungkook in the same room.

“he isn’t invited to the wedding”, your best friend scowls like a child. now you push his hand from your knee, irritated by his actions.

“he is”, you press, not willing to back down. jungkook’s eyes flash in anger.

“you can go with taehyung. he still has to make amends for fucking the DJs”, the CEO offers businesslike and moves up from the couch, like he just singlehandedly solved the problem.

“i don’t need a pity partner, jeon. i – there is a person who actually wants to go with me to your wedding”, you bite back. sure, you had to beg yoongi, but you won’t disclose that now. you’ve seen his gummy smile last week as he tried on expensive suits. he looked way too happy and handsome.

your best friend pushes some documents around his desk, deep in thoughts.

“as my best man you won’t have much time to be with him during the wedding. he will be alone in the midst of strangers. it’ll make him uncomfortable”, he tries to reason. you can’t help but roll your eyes – yoongi’s whole job description is to talk to strangers and make them feel safe. but wait…

“i’m not your best man, jungkook.” you’ve scheduled the event. seokjin’s best man speech comes right before the main course. you even sent the man some keynotes, with topics not to add to his roast.

“you got upgraded”, jungkook states with a shrug. no, no, no, no, no.

“you’ll have to rearrange the seating chart – the place next to my parents’ is now yours.”

“jungkook”, you breathe, astonished by his thoughts, “i’m not your best man.”

he tenses at your refusal, but won’t admit defeat too soon.

“you’re my best friend, so you should be my best man as well”, he says like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“she was against it at first – some bullshit about gender norms and how the photos will look. but, ____, not talking to you for this long made me realize, that you are way more important than seokjin.”

you can see the red flags wave behind jungkook as you feel your heart quicken at his words.

“jungkook” no longer is your voice angry. the sadness in your tone makes jungkook flinch while looking at you from across the room.

“we’ve both created very – very idolized versions of one another”, you start to explain. “maybe you think of me as important – but jungkook, there is so much we haven’t shared with each other.”

he shakes his head, willing to interrupt, but you hold your hands up in warning.

“jungkook, i lo- i like being with you a lot these last few years. but there are parts of you i’ve never met. i never shared your trainee days with you, the hardship, the success. i was only an unknown fan cheering your band on from afar.”

you take a deep breath. “but even now, you still surprise me with new sides of yourself. leaving me on an island? disinviting my plus one? that’s not the jungkook i know. and that’s sure as hell not someone i want to toast to.”

your best friend looks like you’ve just broken something dear to him and you can feel the defeat in your bones.

“seokjin is your best man, jungkook”, you end and smile at the CEO who won’t look at you anymore. before you can move closer to him, the door opens.

“mr. jeon, your next appointment is waiting.” mrs. yang sounds apologetic and looks uncomfortable between the two of you – so far apart.

jungkook nods at his secretary and she closes the door, leaving you to finish the train wreck of a conversation.

“are we no longer best friends, ____?”, he whispers as he logs into his computer. his posture screams dismissal, but you can see how tensed his shoulders are and how hard is mind is working.

you have to suppress the coo on the tip of your tongue.

“jungkook – you are my best friend. you are a person of the utmost importance to me.”

“you still like me?” i love you, you fool.

“i still like you way too much for my own good.”

he nods silently and you can see the tiniest smile spreading across his lips.

you leave without goodbye, only to feel your phone vibrating in your pocket while the elevator rushes to the lobby.

bring your plus one to this week’s movie night.

before you can send a smiley face in responds, an email form the caterer pops up.

subject: duchess potatoes are back.

_____

happy new year! i hope you all have a healthy and kind 2021! let’s make life better by wearing our masks, helping others in need and supporting those who experienced hardship during this tiering time!

i know i promised yoongi/jungkook cat fight – but the chapter got so ugly that i squeezed in this scene of reader und kookie talking about this mess. so that yoongs won’t bleed during game night.

i’d love to hear from you all, it’s been really silent in my virtual life…

all the best and the warmest of hugs from, dana

taglist: @livewittykid  @thequeen-kat @kagami-s-void @goldenclosethobi @youwannabelostandnotbefound @jinsalpaca @bishuthot @laabellaavitaa21 @baekstans @jalexad​ @kimluvwoo​  @jinsearthh​

[blindingdutchy]

lamentation | TWO

{peter parker x fem!reader AU}

based on All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven

SERIES MASTERLIST

word count: 3,495

warnings: depression, anxiety, mental illness! angst, fluff if you squint really hard

18+!!! minors stay away

Peter Parker was relentless, insufferable, and extremely annoying. It all started the morning after what you'd decided to call The Encounter, and it had been unending ever since. Nearly a week had passed since that fateful night, and you'd yet to see a day at school where Peter didn't try his hardest to get under your skin.

On Monday he sat next to you in Calculus, and no matter how blatantly you ignored him for the entire class, he continued to whisper facts about himself and stupid little jokes to you. You wished you could say you hadn't listened, but ever since that morning you'd been unable to forget that his favorite color was red, his Aunt packed him a lunch every day that he threw away because she couldn't cook, and his middle name was Benjamin. Why he thought you needed or even wanted to know such things you weren't sure, but even more befuddling was the fact that you couldn't un-learn them.

When Tuesday rolled around he stepped it up a notch, much to your dismay. He sat with you during Calculus and insisted on jogging with you during gym class, feigning that he was out of breath despite your slow pace and the fact that you were certain he could run for miles without getting winded. He told you more jokes then, too. One of which you begrudgingly found yourself exhaling a little harder over whenever it popped into your head; what did one stranger say to the other? Nothing. They didn't know each other.

Wednesday was the worst, because Peter made a scene. You came into calculus late and the teacher scolded you in front of the class, at which point you got flustered and tripped over your untied shoe laces. Your books spilled to the floor and you tumbled to your knees in front of everyone, and the whole class laughed. But Peter? Peter just had to be the hero, and your blood boiled at his actions.

He'd dramatically swept all his books off of his desk, feigning surprise at the loud clatter as if he hadn't done it intentionally. When the teacher scolded him, too, he just apologized and made a show of picking up each of his things one by one. "Why did you do that?" you'd hissed as you sat down, scowling at the brown-eyed boy who just blinked at you innocently.

"Do what?"

He'd ran with you in gym class again, and he'd even followed you to your locker afterwards. In all the years you'd known of Peter, you had never known him to be much of a talker. In fact, he seemed like a rather shy boy who didn't like to branch out much. With you, though, that was far from the case. Silence was a pipe dream with him around.

On Thursday he sat next to you in Calculus, ran with you in gym, walked you to your locker, and went so far as to sit with you at lunch. You'd put your earbuds in and blasted music as loud as you could without hurting yourself too much, but every time you looked up you could see he was still talking. Part of you wondered why he was being so relentless, but you didn't want to ask. If you asked he would think you cared, and you didn't. You didn't care at all, and the sooner he figured that out, the sooner he would leave you alone.

Or, at least you hoped so. As you walked into school on Friday morning, you groaned at the sight of Peter waiting patiently beside your locker. "What do you want, Parker?" you gritted out, glaring at him as you twisted the dial to enter your combination.

He grinned in spite of your glare, "I'm walking you to Calculus today, obviously. How was your night, (Y/N)? Do anything fun?"

"What part of I don't need friends did you not understand?" you demanded, giving him a stale look as you swung the metal door open with a clang. Peter blinked at you, clearly not used to you actually speaking back to him, and further uncomfortable with your hostility. What did he expect? Did he expect for you to suddenly be happy? To not be completely fucked up anymore just because he started talking to you?

He replaced his lazy smile and shrugged, retorting, "You know my secret and I know yours. That makes us friends."

You wanted to scream at him. You wanted to shout, yell, stomp your feet, and throw a tantrum fit for a child. Friends were not something you wanted or needed, and you certainly didn't want to be friends with Peter Parker. You didn't want to be friends with someone just because they were worried you'd spill their dirty little secret, or because they pitied the girl who wanted to die.

The black hole in your chest was worse than ever that day, and it sucked away all the fight you had in you. So, with a roll of your eyes, you stuffed your earbuds in your ears and tuned him out once more. Just like he had at lunch, Peter continued to ramble even though he knew you weren't listening, and you pretended you didn't see his lips moving at the speed of light.

For once, at the very least, he at least shut up in class. You were thankful for the break from his incessant chatter, the endless monologue you couldn't escape from when you were stuck in a desk while Mr. Tinley droned on and on. Calculus was far from interesting, but you found yourself beyond relieved to finally be able to pay any sort of attention to the lesson.

Friday was steadily continuing along the same path every other day had since The Encounter. Peter thankfully parted ways with you after Calculus, but quickly rejoined you two classes later in Gym. From Gym he was glued to your side through lunch until you escaped to your Spanish class, which you thankfully didn't share with him, but the solitude was short lived. Your last class of the day was one you also shared with Peter, and prior to that day he had remained seated with his friends.

That day, though, he plopped down in the seat beside you with a cheerful smile. "Ready for our new project?" he asked, skipping the greeting he knew you wouldn't return.

"Huh?" you asked, blinking at him in bewilderment. New project? Our? What was he talking about?

Peter beamed back at you, clearly pleased that you hadn't snapped at him for once. "Our new project! Didn't you see the list on the door? We're partners." he explained, and you stiffened.

It was too big of a coincidence to truly be happenstance. All week Peter had been pestering you, perpetually following you around and talking your ear off, and now he just happened to be assigned as your partner for the final Speech project? He did something. That was the only logical conclusion.

Your eyes narrowed as you stared at him with as much intensity as you could muster. "Peter, what did you do?" you growled.

Peter's eyes widened at your tone, and he shifted in his seat nervously with a sheepish smile. "What do you mean?" he questioned coyly, and you scowled at him fiercely. "I didn't do anything, (Y/N)."

"Bullshit." you snapped, "I find it hard to believe that we just happened to be assigned partners after how obsessively you've been harassing me all week."

He gaped at you, "Harassed? What?" he stammered, "(Y/N), let's calm down--I haven't... I haven't been harassing you. I just want you to know I really do want to be your friend."

You scoffed at his excuse, "Shut up, Peter. Just leave me alone! I don't want to be your friend, okay? My lips are sealed. I won't tell anyone your secret, just leave me alone!"

With one finally glare, you lurched out of your seat and stomped to one far away from the still aghast boy. As you settled into your new seat, ignoring the strange looks from your classmates who witnessed your outburst, you wrinkled your nose and picked at your nails angrily. As much as you were angry with Peter, you were also angry with yourself.

You were angry that he'd stopped you, and you'd let him. You were angry at the world for letting your sister die. You were angry at your sister for saving you when she should have saved herself. Most of all, though, you were angry with yourself for how you were acting. Even though she wasn't there, you could almost hear your sister scolding you for how you'd treated Peter.

She always was the levelheaded, rational sister. The good sister. The better sister. She would have been ashamed of how you'd been ignoring Peter, ranting to you, "He's just trying to be there for you, idiot. Stop being such a jerk and let him help you. You need to stop being so stubborn..."

You listened eagerly to Ms. Lovell's lesson and instruction for the new project. It wasn't because you were genuinely interested, because you weren't, but it was something to distract you. It was something to drown out the voice of your sister that was echoing through your skull, rattling you to your core as you tried to keep your emotions at bay.

This was the hardest part of losing your sister. She'd been so close to you, so important to you, it was impossible to not think of her in every moment of every day. It was impossible not to think of what she'd have done, instead of what you had done. It was impossible not to think of what she'd have thought of your actions, what she'd have said to you, of what she'd have wanted you to do.

She had been your voice of reason, your confidant, your role model. She'd always been so much better than you, someone you aspired to be like, and now that she was gone the comparisons were so much heavier on your head. Why couldn't it have been you instead of her? She would never have had such a hard time like you were.

For instance, she wouldn't have been so bitter. She wouldn't have been so filled with rage, hatred, or despair. She wouldn't have blamed anyone, not even herself, and she wouldn't have hated the people who had killed you. She always did love a good superhero, and even if you'd have died at the hands of the Avengers like she had, she would have found a reason to still have faith in them. She would have forgiven them.

This project was going to be a tough one, and not just because you were going to have to work with Peter Parker. "This is going to be a persuasive speech, guys, so you're able to pick your stance freely so long as it pertains to the Avengers. For example, you could persuade us that they're bad, if that's how you feel." Ms. Lovell explained, "Just be prepared to face debate from the class. Each group has to face five full minutes of argument from the class and be able to firmly debate their stance."

A project in which you'd have to argue your stance pertaining to the superheroes that had killed your sister, and you were working with Peter-Spiderman-Parker. Great, you thought to yourself, this was going to be a nightmare. There was no way the two of you would agree on what stance to persuade; you hated superheroes, and he was one, for God's sake.

You glanced over at Peter, only to catch him already staring at you. The pair of you quickly looked away from each other, but you noticed the way his cheeks flared red in embarrassment. How long had he been watching you? Was he dreading the project now as much as you were?

He probably didn't know how you felt about the Avengers. Not many people really cared enough to read about what had happened to your sister, and you weren't exactly in the right state of mind to be out protesting the many shortcomings of the superheroes. You wondered, though, how he would react when he found out.

Lying was an option, but there was no way you'd be able to debate in favor of the Avengers without breaking. Could you debate against them without losing it either, though? You weren't entirely sure. It was a sore subject and you were certainly not looking forward to having to dedicate your time to speaking about them.

Peter lingered by his seat after class was dismissed, staring at you awkwardly as he told his friends he would catch up with them later. You could see the strange, weary looks they shot you, but you chose to ignore them. Everyone looked at you a little funny ever since the incident, and you'd long ago grown accustomed to it. This time, though, you couldn't help but think they were looking at you strangely for a reason other than your sister.

You had two options. You could suck it up and talk to Peter right then, or you could continue to ignore him until you were forced to do the project. Catching his warm brown eyes as he timidly watched you, you sighed. It was now or never; maybe if you were nicer he'd back off a little with the obsessive tendencies.

"So," you drawled, approaching him shyly, "how are we gonna do this?"

This was what she would have wanted you to do; that's what you chanted in your head as you forced yourself to at least seem somewhat approachable. "Uh, we could--we could meet up tomorrow? You could come to my apartment." he stuttered, scratching his neck awkwardly and fiddling with his backpack.

He radiated nervous energy, and the black hole inside of you consumed it greedily. You twiddled your thumbs just as nervously as you replied, "Do you, um, do you mind coming to my house instead? My parents are--they're a little weird about me going out because of... yeah."

God, his stutter was rubbing off on you, and you cringed at the way you stumbled over your words like a fool. It had been such a long time since you'd invited anyone to your house, let alone talked to anyone besides your parents and your therapist, and it was stressing you out. The exhaustion of the day was wearing you down rapidly, and having to socialize was making it worse.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, of course!" he spluttered, "Uh, could I get your number? So I can, like, text you when I'm coming?"

You hoped he didn't notice how much your fingers were shaking as you took his phone, struggling to type in your number as you mistyped multiple times. Once you'd saved your contact into his phone, you sent yourself a text so that you'd have his number too. You didn't exactly answer unknown numbers anymore, though if you were honest, you often didn't answer people you knew either. That was what drove your friends away.

Peter shot you a shy smile as you handed his phone back, and he asked, "Do you want to get started tonight, maybe? I could call you."

Biting your cheek, you paled. Tonight? You were exhausted, and the thought of having to talk for any longer made you nauseous. "No offense, Peter, but I... I really just need a break. This week has been a lot." you mumbled, avoiding his eyes as you stared at your feet.

"Oh, yeah, totally." he acquiesced, "I'll, uh, I'll see you tomorrow."

You didn't reply, only giving him a tight lipped smile that probably looked more like a grimace as you quickly walked away. Once you were out of his sight, your entire body drooped and the numbness steadily washed over you. It had been the longest day, and you were once again grateful for the escape from the overwhelming emotions.

Ever since she died, it was as if all your emotions were on overdrive. There were the many constant ones, like the guilt, shame, and anguish over her death. Along with those were more fleeting ones, like anger, disgust, and fear. Peter, though, he brought about a whole slew of new and equally as intense feelings that drained you.

He made you feel things like anxiety, apprehension, and hope. There was anxiety both due to his wild behavior in regards to you, but also because you feared he might tell people what he'd seen. The apprehension was due to your suspicion he was only so interested because you knew his secret, and was just as fearful that you would tell. But the hope, the stupid anticipation, was the worst.

It was the worst because a stupid part of you hoped he was genuine. You wanted him to really want to be your friend with no ulterior motives because, no matter how much you denied it, you really did need a friend. You wanted a friend. You wanted to let someone in.

You weren't buying it, though, because you were certain you couldn't handle the heartbreak of being wrong about his intentions and discovering he really did only care about his secret. You weren't going to let him hurt you, and if you had to shut yourself off from the world and hurt yourself to prevent it, then so be it. It was easier that way.

Peter Parker: hey i know you said you didn't want to start tonight but that doesn't mean we can't get to know each other

Peter Parker: so if you want, lets play 20 questions! i'll start. what's your favorite movie?

The typing cursor blinked at you tauntingly as you laid on your bed, huddled under the blankets with your thumbs hovering over the keys. That stupid part of you that wanted to make your sister proud begged you to go along with it, to let him be a friend, but you were terrified. You were terrified of the way you actually opened the text and went to reply without hesitation, something you hadn't done since before the incident. You were terrified of the way you wanted to reply, but the only thing that gave you pause was the fact that you didn't have an answer.

Movies weren't something you'd given much thought to in awhile. You knew all of your sister's favorite movies by heart, but your favorite movie? It was as if your brain opened an empty drawer. You didn't know what your favorite movie was.

You: i don't know

Peter Parker: what do you mean you don't know

Peter Parker: do you not like movies?!

You: i just don't know okay

You: i can't remember the last time i watched a movie.

That was a lie. You very well could remember the last time you'd watched a movie, and that was because it was with her. The weekend before she'd died, your sister had dragged you to the theater to watch some cheesy romance film she'd been gushing about for weeks. It was awful, but it was so utterly her that you'd weirdly enjoyed it. You enjoyed it because it made her happy.

Peter Parker: that's crazy wow

Peter Parker: no offense sorry

Peter Parker: it's your turn to ask

You: what's your favorite movie

Peter Parker: star wars but you can't ask the same question!! try again

You: fine

You: what's your favorite food?

Was talking to boys always this hard? You couldn't remember the last time you'd had to get to know someone, but you didn't think it had ever been so nerve wracking. Was something wrong with you? Was everything destined to be this hard now that she was gone?

Peter Parker: anything from Delmar's

Peter Parker: best sandwiches in Queens

Peter Parker: since you got a double and you technically didn't answer my first question, i'm asking you the same but also what's your happiest memory

Everything was always going to be hard. Reading his response, your lungs deflated in your chest and the numbness gave way to the all too familiar sensation of despair. She'd always loved Delmar's, insisting on getting the same sandwich from there every single Friday after school, and it had been your thing.

Would there ever be anything that didn't remind you of her? Remind you of the hole punched in your life where she used to be? It was hard enough dealing with the empty space in your room where her bed used to be, the empty chair at the dinner table where she'd used to sit, all the empty spaces she'd used to fill up. But the little things--the little memories of things she'd used to love--those hurt so much more.

You: i have to go

You: i forgot i'm busy tomorrow so we can't start the project

You: i'm sorry

SERIES TAG-LIST {ask to be added}:

@msmimimerton

[operation-619]

plus size reader x homelander perhaps

Homelander x Plus Size Reader 

Edited 17-01-21

15+

Just want you to know that the colour of skin in this Gif doesn’t determine the colour of the skin of the reader. 

Warnings; Language, mentions of indecent exposure, blood, indecent thoughts, mentions of anxiety and past trauma and BLOODPLAY. Read at your own discretion. 

WC - 2.4k

MASTERLIST

The suns’ arms were surrounding the city, squeezing it tight in its’ warm embrace. The light bounced off the windows and made the city look crystallised. (Y/N) stood with her eyes solely focused on the horizon; the warmth penetrated through the window and caressed her cheeks. She closed her eyes and sighed. This was what she needed after today, the man-child Translucent was caught up in another public scandal – he was caught being a peeping tom, again.

(Y/N)’s eyes closed as she released a deep breathe before she plonked her head onto the cold glass window, the contrasting temperature soothed her rising headache.

“I need a glass of whiskey, make it a whole bottle.” (Y/N) whispered under her breath. She was so close to braking down and everyone around her knew it, she wasn’t snapping at everyone like Ashley or Stillwell did. No, she would just stare at them and walk away because if she were to open her mouth god knows what would come out. It is not like they could fire her, they fucking needed her, but god was she close to killing a super.

She turned her head and made eye contact with the tray of alcohol that was beckoning her over, she weighed the options in her head – she is still technically working but if she doesn’t leave the room then no one will know.

The smile that graced her face was what sealed her fate.

The whiskey warmed her throat deliciously on its way down that she almost forgot about the man that caused her so much stress, almost. Groaning loudly, she placed the glass back on the tray and grabbed the bottle of whiskey by its’ neck and walked over to the desk that was tucked in the corner of the room.

“Fucking Translucent, always causing me trouble. I should’ve told Stillwell no when I had the fucking chance,” she opened her laptop and began the work she had been dreading since this morning; Mondays were supposed to be her good days, the start afresh day were Mondays and that nonce had completely shat on that for her.

She was immersed in her temper tantrum that she jumped out of her skin when her phone rang. ‘Madelyn Stillwell’ was calling, she couldn’t stop staring at the name in bold that was screaming at her to pick up the phone. She didn’t even know what she was going to say.

‘Fuck’.

“Hello (Y/N) (L/N) speaking.” The silence made her heart shrink in on itself.

“Ahh, (Y/N) good to finally speak to you I have been trying to get a hold of you since this morning.”

“Sorry Madelyn, I have been trying to figure my piece out. I just needed to be shut away from everything for a minute.”

More silence followed, she hated it. (Y/N) drummed her fingers against the glass table-top impatiently as she waited for Madelyn to speak up again. After a few seconds she pulled the phone away from her ear to check she was still connected to the line.

“(Y/N) hello? Yes, sorry about that, I completely understand. I just wanted to let you know that the conference is in two hours. And after today you can have the week off. Okay?”

“Say that again?” laughter echoed through the phone, (Y/N) grimaced as she realised, she just said that out loud.

“God, five years on the job and you still surprise me (L/N), you have the week off. We, sorry I will deal with Translucent properly after the conference okay. I will see you in two hours.”

“Ok- “the line was disconnected before she could properly thank Madelyn. (Y/N) tried to break down the conversation that had just taken place, Stillwell sounded happy, but was she?

‘That week she wants me to have off is going to turn into never coming back, (Y/N) you asshat’, (Y/N) let out a shaky breath before looking at her watch, she could do this. It’s the same as last time, apologise to the press and explain the circumstances. The circumstance being that Translucent was being a peeping tom in the ladies visitors bathroom and got caught by a bystander.

“I’m going to kill that invisible son of a bitch.”

Two hours later….

“Ladies and gentlemen, if you could take your seats please the press conference is about to begin.”

The room was buzzing with talk and bodies, but (Y/N) didn’t notice.

She was too busy staring out the floor to ceiling window looking at the people passing below her, such simple boring people naïve to everything around them. The corruption and selfishness that she has witnessed ever since she started working at Vought has made her regret taking off her rose-gold glasses. The world she lives in now is scary, she use to fall asleep at night knowing that she was safe and that the superheroes would defend her no matter what. But now, when she shuts her eyes, she is drowning in the screams of those that could have – could’ve been spared, could’ve been saved – they never leave her because they know she’ll crack eventually. And she can see it, her face is puffy from the lack of sleep, her eyes are practically swimming in their bags, her shoulders can’t even carry the weight of alcohol – they use to carry everything she had going on her life.

And she had a really painful ingrown toenail that has been biting her for weeks.

(Y/N)’s hands smooth down her dress, the folds that use to make her weak and anxious now give her strength and a power of her own. She has struggled with the way she looked since she was a young girl, but her mother had always made her realise that she didn’t need to look like Victoria secret model to command the attention of everyone. Her rolls, cellulite and stretch marks have been with her through everything and she sure as hell will never make them leave her.

(Y/N) notice that Stillwell’s speech was coming to an end and checked herself in the reflection of the mirror, she went to go turn around when something in the corner of her (E/C) eyes made her turn back around to look out the window. But before she could investigate further the roar of applause made her turn her attention to Stillwell welcoming her on stage.

Smoothing down her dress one more time she strutted on to the stage and waved gracefully at the camera. Giving Madelyn a quick hug she turned to the podium and spoke with her voice loud and confident:

“Thank you all for making it today, Randy looking beautiful as ever,’ the crowd chuckled as Randy bowed towards (Y/N), ‘but we need not be distracted by Randy’s radiance. Unfortunately, there has been an incident involving Translucent exposing himself to a member of the public, and I can tell you know that the woman has our sincere apologies.” (Y/N) placed her hand over her heart and smiled sweetly at everyone, god it made her sick.

“As you all know, for Translucent to be, well, Translucent he has to be as naked as the day he was born. And recently we have had a few security threats in the building. He was following a lead that led him to a part of the building that he doesn’t quite know. Our bathrooms are gender neutral, to make everyone feel safe in included. We have talked to the victim of the exposure,’ (Y/N) made sure her chin was high and her voice was clear, if she stopped her true feelings were going to come out. And she couldn’t afford another scandal, ‘she was understanding about the situation, and we made sure she had everything she needed. I can assure you, ladies, gentlemen, and others. That once Translucent comes back from Palestine, you will have a sincere apology from the super himself. Any questions?”

She instantly regretted that question as the light and noise that arose once she finished talking made her believe she was entering heaven and hell.

(Y/N) closed her eyes briefly and took a deep, deep breath in before opening her eyes and smiling widely.

“(Y/N)! What do you think about the new member of the seven? Starlight?”

_________________

(Y/N)’s heels were off and she couldn’t be more grateful, she slumped her way back to the room she came from with a smile on her face remembering that she had left a half empty bottle of whiskey on the desk. Her eyes were halfway between closed and open after the media conference that went from two hours to six.

The soles of her feet were crying to be out to rest, and her back was already dead. She felt like a zombie, probably looked like one with how slowly she was walking. But when she saw the door to her room, her back straightened and her feet came back to life.

She completely ignored the fact that the door was open as she was too focused on the bottle of heaven calling her name; throwing her shoes into the closet, she turned on the lights and glided over to the desk only to halt when said bottle of heaven was missing.

“What the fuck?” she lifted up the laptop, papers and plant searching for her liquid gold.

“Looking for this?” the scream that left her mouth was surprisingly loud for such an exhausted person, whipping around (E/C) eyes pierced into electric blue. (Y/N) stumbled back into a wall as she tried to comprehend what was right in front of her, or rather who.

He looked different in civilian clothes, boxer shorts and a white t-shirt adorned his body, hiding the perfection underneath. He was sculpted by gods, his thighs made (Y/N)’s mouth water and he knew it by the smirk on his face.  He was stood in his signature pose, hands on hips. And it drove her wild.

(Y/N) bit her lip subconsciously as she looked him up and down before stopping at the bulge between his legs, it was calling her attention begging to be held.

The man in observation raised his eyebrow and cleared his throat. He watched gleefully as (Y/N)’s face contorted into a look of embarrassment, but the smile dropped as he met her eyes and saw the tears threatening to fall.

“Come here.” No question needed; (Y/N) threw herself at the supe in front of her and the tears released themselves from their prison. She stuffed her head in his neck and breathed in his scent, and for once in the past week she finally felt at peace with everything.

“God, I missed you so fucking much,” her voice broke as she moved her head to look into his eyes, her solace. (Y/N) found it ironic how stormy his eyes get yet she finds them so calming, so peaceful.

He was her solace.

His hands cupped the back of her thighs and hoisted her up. Once he got to the bed he turned around and dropped himself onto the bed, never letting go of (Y/N)’s legs. He just sat there, (Y/N) straddling his lap, watching her. He noticed the bags under her (E/C) eyes, and the dried blood on her lips from the continuous lip biting. It brought a sadness to him as he watched the bountiful goddess before him struggle.

“Let it go.” And with those words (Y/N) let the tears stream down her face, the numbness washed itself away with the tears of pain and sorrow. (Y/N) felt the weight that had been dragging her into the floor finally lift off her shoulders.

No more pain, no when she has everything she needs right here.

“I love you John,” and he was all she needed.

She ran her fingers down his neck, the feeling of something sticky caused her to stop and withdraw her hand. Crimson covered her (Y/S/C) hand, coating it to the bone. She started at it, wondering how it got there, the metallic smell invaded her sense as she watched it run down her forearm.

Without a thought, she brought her finger into her mouth and slowly licked the sweet and tempting blood off her finger. Humming to herself, she closed her eyes and tried to saviour the taste for as long as she could. The warmth of the blood lingered in her throat, coating it as it travelled down her trachea. (Y/N) opened her eyes as she finished swallowing the last drop and smiled sweetly down at the man trapped between her legs.

“Did they suffer?” her tongue swept over her teeth, licking off the remainder of the pleasant treat her man brought home. She watched at the smirk stitched itself onto his face, answering her question. She giggled softly before diving towards him, biting his bottoms lip before devouring him into a kiss of passion and lust.

John grunted quietly as he felt her pierce his bottom lip, but that grunt turned into a delicious moan as (Y/N) suckled the wound.

“Did they scream?” her question was breathless and quick as she frantically tore apart his shirt, hands roaming the body sculpted by God. (Y/N) pulled away, smiling to herself when she watched John try to chase her lips, she looked down at his body and frowned slightly when she realised, he healed before he came back to her.

Looking up at John through her eyelashes, she slightly traced the muscle of her superhero.

“Can I Homelander.” The eyes of the man in question turned dark with lust as he pieced together what (Y/N) wanted. He watched intently as she leaned over to the side and withdrew a knife from the end table. He watched the little sparkle in her (E/C) eyes turn into an explosion as she pierced his skin, he watched as her tongue swept through the valley of blood on his stomach. He watched everything his woman did to him and he loved every last bit of it.  

John cupped (Y/N) face after a while and brought it towards his face, he wiped of the blood on the corner of her mouth. The life had come back to her face, the tears had dried and the bags look less looming. His girl was back, and he was going to make sure that joy he sees now, never leaves her face. Even if it means killing a few people, or a few thousand he’d do it without a second thought.

“I love you (Y/N).”

[xpao-bearx]

Part 1 HERE

NOTE: OMG I really wasn't expecting for the previous first part of Heavenly Sins to blow up as it did, but I just wanted to give a huuuge THANK YOU to all of you amazing folks!! 🥰🥰🥰 Your support truly means so fooken much to trashy ol' meh and y'all are the reason I am writing this story series in the first place :')

I do have my ideas, but I still don't know much yet of what to do or even how long (or short) this story will get. So, if you would continue to give me your mindblowing support, it would seriously mean the W O R L D.

I do, however, very much enjoy writing Negan in particular so far. He's one of my absolute fave characters ever and JEFFREY DEAN FUCKIN' MORGAN NEED I SAY MOAR?!? 🥵💕💕

But this second part will be focusing a bit more on our beloved sheriff Ricky boi! Of course, Daryl will also get some much deserved love and attention tho I think he will appear in the story a lil later on.

Also, if you ever feel compelled, you are more than welcome to take some inspo from this story and make your own imagines and such! I'd love to see 'em, so please tag me 😁

P.S. There won't always be long ass notes like this, only if I wanna say something or bring up whatever is important. Also, if you wanna be tagged on any new/future story parts, then just tell moi and I will dedicate the latest one to the people who wanted to be tagged!

DEDICATED TO: The wonderful @buttercandy16 💖

"Heavenly Sins"

Part 2

After your little spiel, you haven't spoken to Negan since then. But on the way home after church, you passed by his house and found him tinkering away on his motorcycle (which you previously learned he interestingly named Lucille) in the garage. Not being able to help yourself, you paused in your tracks and just curiously watched him for a while.

His leather jacket was off, revealing a plain white t-shirt. The shirt was quite tight, and you noted how it perfectly hugged the taut muscles of his chest. Your eyes then slowly trailed to his toned arms, adorned by tattoos you wished you had a better look at. He stopped briefly, placing his tools down before grabbing the hem of his shirt and wiping the sweat on his forehead.

You didn't even think twice as your eyes dropped, hyperfocused on his abs. He wasn't the buffest guy out there, but he was lean and fit and--to put it bluntly--hot. A part of you screamed bloody murder to get a grip on yourself, to just turn your stiff body around and proceed on home. But another part completely squashed down those protests without even a fight; as if your pathetic excuse of a resolve wasn't even meant in the first place.

"Take a goddamn picture, darlin'. It'll last longer."

Your head snapped up, meeting the tantalizing hazel stare of Negan. His lips were curled in a smug smirk, and nevermore in your entire life have you wanted to both slap and kiss someone so badly.

But you only clicked your tongue, shooting him a sharp glare before (at last!) turning and walking away as you hid your blush. In the distance, his amused chuckle begrudgingly sounded like the sweetest fucking music to your ears.

♡♡♡

You woke up at 7:05 a.m. like you typically did the next morning, Monday. It was the dawn of a new week, and while most people dreaded it you actually didn't mind it so much. You had your job to thank for that.

Sure, it wasn't always easy, but it was worth it in the end. You loved teaching and spending time with the children, and you were even more ecstatic since you knew Judith was going to be at the daycare.

As you finished eating breakfast and preparing for the day, you grabbed your bag then went out the door. You opted to walk again today, the weather far too beautiful to miss plus the daycare really wasn't that far away.

Eventually arriving at your destination, you approached the daycare building's doors with a little spring in your step. Once inside, a young woman with her blonde hair high in a ponytail smiled and waved.

"Hi, Y/N! Goodmorning!" Beth Greene greeted energetically.

"Morning, Beth." You chuckled, the girl's radiant smile infectious. You've known Beth for some time now, especially since the Greenes were one of the oldest families in Alexandria and they were well respected. But you got along best with Beth, you thought she was the friendliest and she was also the latest hire of the daycare.

Stashing your bag away in your personal locker, you fixed yourself up a bit before getting your nametag and sticking it on your top. Looking up at the wall clock, you read that it was 7:50 a.m. Perfect, just in time for the kids' drop-offs.

You waited outside with Beth and the rest of the daycare workers, until finally the parents started rolling in. It was the usual; some of the children were wailing, snot snivelling down their nose as their embarrassed parents tried to tug them away from clinging onto their legs. You could only offer a sympathetic smile as you tried to help, while other children were much more relaxed and didn't even spare a second glance at their parents as they were dropped off.

"Well, that's about all of them." Beth piped up.

"Wait, we're still waiting for Judith." You said, searching for the toddler. "Rick said she'd be here."

Beth checked her watch, her brows creasing a little in worry. "That's odd. Sheriff Grimes is never late when he's dropping Judith off."

Just as she said that, there was a honk that disrupted the peace. You and Beth both spotted a crying Judith being held by Lori, the woman appearing utterly exhausted before her eyes locked with yours and didn't waste another second dashing towards you.

"Please don't run when you're holding Judith. Also, no honking is allowed on the premises." It was hard for you to keep the malice out of your voice, but you mentally gave yourself a pat on the back since you miraculously managed to not make it sound the worst it could get.

Lori raised a brow at you, but only handed Judith over to you. Judith immediately quieted down when she saw it was you, you cooing gently at her as she giggled and snuggled up comfortably against your chest.

"Rick will be picking her up later." Was all Lori said, pressing a quick peck on Judith's curly little head before parting ways. As Lori rushed back to the car, you saw Shane in the driver's seat shamelessly attack her neck with fervent kisses and you couldn't restrain an eyeroll.

"Fucking bitch..." You grumbled.

"Uh-oh. Bad!" Judith giggled again, clapping her hands gleefully.

"Right, right. Bad. Don't copy me, okay?" You laughed, completely forgetting about your aggravation as you rubbed your nose with Judith's and went inside.

♡♡♡

The rest of the day rolled along splendidly. No one threw a tantrum and for the most part, all the kids properly shared the wide assortment of toys and even did their activities orderly and on time. So, you decided to indulge them with a small yet much sought after reward.

Painting.

When it comes down to children, painting can be utter chaos. But you figured since they were being so good, you'd allow it. At the daycare you worked in, painting was quite a rare occurrence and that only solidified how much the kids adored it.

Once the materials were set out, it was a dizzying flurry of excited hands grabbing anything it could latch on to. As the kids went about doing their creative business, you found Judith all alone sitting in the corner playing around with some blocks.

"Whatcha doin' there, Judi?" You asked, sweetly calling out her nickname. "You don't wanna paint?"

"I wanna, but not with papers." She replied, shaking her head.

"Oh? Then where do you wanna paint?"

"I wanna paint on faces, but no one wants me to!"

"If that's the case, then I'd be more than happy to let you paint my face." You smiled.

"Really?!" Judith's whole face lit up, jumping up and wrapping her tiny arms around you as tightly as she could. "Thank youuu!"

You chuckled, ruffling her hair and watching as she happily gathered some paint and brushes.

♡♡♡

It was finally the end of a long day, and your face felt a bit itchy from the paint Judith put on you. But it didn't matter; as long as the little girl was happy, it was the best damn day ever.

You were holding Judith's hand as you waited outside for Rick to pick her up, and once he came up with his car Judith beamed.

"Daddy!"

"Hello, sweetheart. Did you have a nice day?" His face looked tired, his greying beard making him appear slightly older than he really was, but his smile was genuine as he carried Judith in his strong arms.

"The bestest! Y/N lemme paint her face!"

"She did, huh? What did you pai--oh my god."

You bursted into laughter at his reaction, flashing him a toothy grin. "In the words of Judi: You're a pretty tiger! Grr!"

"Now that you mention it, I can see it." Rick joined in your laughter, nodding his head. "Looks like we've got a talented lil artist in our hands!"

"Daddy, I wanna paint your face next! You can be daddy tiger and Y/N can be mommy!" Judith proclaimed.

You and Rick flushed pink at the same exact time, but Rick was quick to clear his throat and change the topic. "A-Anyways, Y/N, how 'bout me and the kids give you a ride? Thank you for today, by the way."

"No problem, and sure! Thanks so much."

As you settled in the passenger's seat, two hands covered your eyes from behind. "Guess who~?"

"Hmm..." You hummed, making a show of thinking. "Are you an elf?"

"No!" The hands were removed, Carl popping his head out from the backseat to look at you as he laughed. "It's me!"

"Oh, sorry! You're just so short, I thought you were an elf." You teased good naturedly.

Carl huffed, sticking his tongue out at you. "Y'know, in a few years, I'll be way taller than you!"

Once Rick was done buckling Judith into her carseat, he took his place in the driver's seat and drove out of the premises. You just talked about anything that came to mind: work, the weather, Alexandria's local shops, etc. To anyone else, maybe it seemed like regular boring conversation. But speaking with Rick was truly one of the highlights of any of your days. He was extremely easy to talk to, and he never failed to cheer you up. And it was obvious Rick was the same. He was allowed to simply be himself around you; to loosen up, momentarily forget about the stress and sometimes even the woes that came along with being the town's upstanding sheriff.

As you were nearing your home, Carl decided to cut in.

"Y/N, can we stay at your house? It's been a while since we had a sleepover." Carl asked, his baby blue eyes identical to Rick's alight with hope.

It wouldn't be the first time Rick and the kids would be staying over. You were very close to the Grimes family, sometimes even almost considering them as your own. You didn't mind it. Since you lived alone, it can get pretty lonely. And having people around surely brightened up the house and made you keep your sanity.

"I don't mind, but you gotta ask your dad." You chuckled.

Carl turned to Rick, pouting and giving his best puppy dog eyes. Rick rolled his eyes, but couldn't suppress an inkling of a smile.

"Yeah, yeah. But let me drop you and Judith off with Y/N first. I'll be back, I just need to get some extra clothes and essentials."

"YAY!" Carl cheered, Judith following suit as they both raised their arms and hollered.

"You're so whipped for them." You laughed, shaking your head as you looked at Rick.

"I ain't denying that." He sighed dramatically, grinning.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Forever

A Very Rogers Christmas.

Part 1- The Best Things In Life Are Tree.

Summary: It’s that time of year again and the Rogers family prepare to go and pick their Christmas tree. But when Emmy calls with a bit of bad news, it puts a little downer on the whole thing for Katie and Steve decides to call in reinforcements to pull off the best Christmas Heist he can…

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: So here we go, Part 1 of my Stark Spangled 2020 Christmas special- A Very Rogers Christmas.  This one was written for for @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ and @sagechanoafterdark​ ‘s Winter/Holiday Challenge. My prompt- Finding the PERFECT Tree.

It feels like AGES since I wrote for my babies so I hope you enjoy this little three parter. Part 2 posting next Friday, and part 3 on Christmas Eve.

SSF Masterlist //  WIYPT Masterlist 

"Daddy, I found something else I want to ask Santa for, for Christmas." Rori bounced into the study and Steve closed his eyes on the papers he was trying to grade and sighed.

"I bet you have." He mumbled before he glanced up at his daughter and couldn't help but smile at her as she skipped over to him, her long pony tail swinging behind her "What is it, Princess?" "A capybara." she said, scrambling up onto his lap. "A what?" Steve frowned. "A capybara. Look!" she turned the tablet she was holding towards him to show him a picture of the brown animal "They're like huge guinea pigs. I saw one at the zoo with Uncle Buck yesterday and when I said I wanted one he told me to tell you that I was gonna ask Santa." "Course he did." Steve sighed, mentally cursing his asshole best friend. "You know, Rori, don't think Santa can get you one of those." "Why not?" "It’s too big." He attempted “There’s nowhere for us to keep it.” "Our garden is huge!" Rori blinked at him. "And when Emmy and Petey move into the Tower he can live in the cabin." Trust her to be as damned smart as her mother. "They're wild animals honey." Steve shook his head as he tried attempt number two. "But they live in a zoo." Rori looked up at him, her face full of eager excitement “That’s not the wild.” "Yeah but that’s different." Steve reasoned patiently. "They're not like dogs or cats or regular guinea pigs. They need very special care.” "Oh." Rori looked down a little, her shoulders slumping and Steve sighed.

Fuck you, Bucky.

"Okay. Never mind." She clicked off the screen of her tablet and turned towards Steve, looking up at him with those damned green eyes. "Do you think he could get me a kitty instead?"

No, just say no… "Maybe."

Way to go, Rogers. Rori's eyes lit up and Steve inwardly groaned. It was a well-known fact in their house that whenever Dad said maybe, it meant yes. Fuck.

“I love you Daddy!” she beamed, reaching up to press a kiss to his bearded cheek before she hopped off his lap and skipped towards the door “Oh, me and momma are going to make gingerbread men for tomorrow so we can have them when we decorate the tree.”

“Can’t wait baby.” He smiled

“Are you gonna be working tomorrow afternoon?” she asked a little shyly and he shook his head.

“No, I promise.”  He assured her. “All day tomorrow is family day.”

She gave him another huge smile, one that truly warmed his entire being as it made her look even more like his wife, and then headed out of the room, her feet pattering on the tiles of the hallway as she skipped back into the other part of the house. Steve exhaled and looked back down at the paper, groaning as he realised he’d lost his place. He’d been home early that afternoon hoping for more peace and quiet than he got in his office at the University to concentrate on getting through all these and for the most it had worked, until Jamie and Rori had arrived home from school full of it as usual. Katie had kept them out of his way for the most but the realisation that Christmas was well on the way had hit the eldest two and whipped them up into a fever.

Not that Steve particularly cared. He adored this time of year. It was Katie’s holiday and from the day after Thanksgiving the Christmas period started in full throttle in the Rogers household, and they’d picked tomorrow, 2 weeks before the schools broke up, to go and pick the trees for their lounge and hallway. He was a little disappointed that it hadn’t snowed yet, there had been a good covering the previous year but, still it was set to be a cold and dry day so they could still get bundled up and have their hot chocolate and snacks as usual.

He rubbed at his eyes and focussed, reading through the paper in front of him on the ‘Strategy, Diplomacy and politics of Axis and Allied forces in WW2’, wishing to God he was marking something on the course he was actually employed to teach now- Fine Arts- but all those had been done and graded last week. This was the module of History that he taught, because as the Uni said- he was a living, breathing expert.

Aparently.

An hour or so later he finished red-penning the final six paged essay, with a proud smile as that one had been particularly good and he quickly checked it over once more, making sure he’d captured all the notes on the electronic copy and queued it up to send on Monday, just like Katie had shown him how to, so that each student had the hard copy and soft copy back. He stood up, stretched, turned off his laptop and headed through to the main area of the house, the smell of baking and cooking hitting his nostrils as he went.

He walked into the kitchen to find Rori kneeling on one of the tall stools over the island-slash-breakfast bar, her hands and face smeared in pink icing as she decorated a gingerbread man, her little tongue poking out of the side of her mouth in concentration. Katie was stood supervising Harry who was also covered in frosting, this one bright green. Flossie sat in the highchair opposite, banging a spoon on the tray occasionally letting out a yell or babble of something incoherent. As soon as she saw Steve she gave a huge grin and her shouts became louder and he smiled.

“Hi Floss-Floss!” he beamed, crossing to drop a kiss to her head before he looked across at Katie “Where’s Jamie?”

“Upstairs in his room.” Katie gave a little sigh “He said, and I quote, ‘I’m ten now, far too old to decorate gingerbread, mom.’ I could have cried there and then Steve.” She finished with a pout.

Steve gave her a sympathetic smile, the fact her eldest baby boy was growing up was something he knew she hated “Yeah, I bet he won’t be too old to eat them, though.” He appeased and she smiled.

“That’s what I said.” Rori gave a dramatic roll of her eyes and Steve chuckled.

“You finished Grading?” Katie asked as she gently guided Harry’s hand over the cookie shaped like a Christmas tree.

“Yeah, all done. Sorry it took so long.”

“It’s okay.” She looked up at him, smiling “Your dinner is in the oven. I already ate with the kids. Sorry, I was starving.”

“I didn’t expect you to wait.”  Steve walked over the room and dropped a kiss to her cheek. “Thanks, Sweetheart.”

He made his way over to the Aga stove and opened the door, giving a little groan when he saw she’d done his favourite, a Mac and Cheese bake laced with chicken, chorizo and broccoli. He turned to look at her and didn’t miss the flicker of a smile on her face as she knew what he was thinking, before he pulled out the plate giving a yell as it burnt his fingers, dropping it onto the side with a clatter.

“Careful daddy, hot!” Harry turned to face him, and Katie burst out laughing.

“Yeah, thanks Son.” Steve tried not to roll his eyes as he sucked his thumb. Grabbing a tea-towel he gripped the plate, found some cutlery and sat down at the table to the side of the kitchen, tucking in.

“I finished all mine, Momma.” Rori grinned, placing the tube of squeezy frosting down on the side. Steve watched as Katie moved to look over Rori’s shoulder.

“Good job sweetie.” She smiled, “Creative, I’ve never seen a pink cat before.”

Steve paused and looked at Rori as she grinned “I know they’re not really pink, and my kitty won’t be, but it can have a pink collar.”

At that he winced and hastily shoved another forkful of food into his mouth, praying that the conversation stopped there.

Katie sighed “Rori we’ve been over this, you can’t have a cat.”

“Daddy said I could.”

Shit.

Katie’s eyes shot to Steve and he gave her his best innocent look, but from the way her features grew stern he knew he was utterly busted and he swallowed the food in his mouth which turned to cement in his throat.

“No, that’s not what I said.” Steve shook his head.

“You said maybe.” Rori shrugged “Same thing.”

“We getting a kitty?” Harry asked, looking at Katie.

“No.” she shook her head.

“But I asked Daddy if Santa would bring me one and he said maybe.” Rori looked at Katie.

“Well Daddy is wrong.” She glared at Steve and he visibly shrank in his seat. Katie’s green eyes narrowed before they turned back to Rori. “Santa can’t bring live animals. It’s in the rules.”

“What rules?”

“The Christmas Rules” Katie said quickly “No live animals. It’s not fair on them. They don’t like the sleigh.”

“But…”

“No buts Rori.” Katie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose “I’m sorry honey, but it’s not gonna happen.”

Rori pouted a little but she knew when she was beat and glanced down at the cookies on the tray before she looked up, grinning smugly. “I’ll just ask Uncle Bucky to get me one. He got me Dory.”

“Oh for the love of…” Katie spluttered “Uncle Bucky won’t get you one either.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll tell him not to.” Katie looked at her “We have Stark. No more animals.”

Rori folded her arms and at that point Steve stepped in, sensing an impending tantrum.

“Aurora.” He said sternly and she turned her head to face him as he pointed his fork at her. “Enough.”

She glared at him before she sighed and looked at Katie “Can I get down now please?”

Katie obliged and pulled her stool out a little allowing Rori to hop down. “Stay right there little miss.”

“Why?” Rori frowned as Katie headed to the sink, coming back with a cloth. With a groan, Rori held out her hands so Katie could wipe them clean, along with the little smear of icing on her face “20 minutes and then its bath time. We’re up early in the morning.”

“Ooh, yeah!” Rori bounced excitedly “To pick our trees. Hey, can I get one for my room?”

Katie hesitated before she shrugged “You know, I saw some in the shop that already have the lights on and they change colour. We’ll get a big one for the lounge and hallway like normal and I’ll get you a special one. And you get to keep it for next year and the year after.”

Rori pondered this for a moment before she shook her head “I want a real one from the farm.”

Katie groaned, and threw her hands out to the side “Fine, just, go and watch TV or something in the Play Room.”

“I watch TV too please, Momma?” Harry asked and Katie nodded, cleaning him up too before she lifted him down off the stool. He toddled after Rori, yelling for her to wait and as soon as they were gone Katie rounded on Steve.

“Honey, I…” he began and winced as she exploded on him.

“Seriously? A damned cat?”

“She caught me unawares.”

“She always catches you unawares!” Katie scoffed “After six, almost seven years I’d have thought you’d be used it by now.”

“I only said-“

“And as usual I’m left to be the bad guy.” Katie ranted, shaking her head as she moved to turn Flossie’s chair so she was facing the table. “You’re an asshole.”

“This is technically Bucky’s fault.”

“Oh, no, Steven Grant Rogers! Don’t you are try and blame this one on Buck.” She hissed.

“But he took her to the zoo and told her to ask for a capybara!” Steve practically whined “When I said no she asked for a cat, the maybe just slipped out.” Katie paused, her arms folded, face furious and Steve peered up at her giving her a little smile “Don’t be mad, come on baby. I didn’t mean it.”

“You’re still an asshole.” She grumbled, before she crossed to the fridge and pulled out the wine. “And for that you can deal with bedtime. I’m going for a bath.”

“Sure, not a problem.” Steve nodded, swallowing more of his food. Katie poured herself a large glass before she moved to put the bottle back and then changed her mind. With the bottle in one hand, full glass in the other she made for the door. “I love you.” Steve shot as she passed him, and despite her annoyed demeanour, the slight smile that played on her face told him he wasn’t in too much trouble.  

****

All kids were bathed and in bed little over an hour later. The youngest three settled down to sleep, Jamie instructed he had an hour of TV or reading time before lights off.

“Ok Dad.” He nodded, running his hand through his hair as he tidied up his games console a little, Stark curled up on the bed.

“I’ll be in to check.” Steve looked at him, and Jamie rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I got it. You can trust me.”

“I know.” Steve gave a chuckle “Night son.” He crossed the room to drop a kiss to his head and Jamie pushed him away.

“Gerroff, I’m ten.”

“Yeah, well, you’re still my kid so…” Steve grumbled, and Jamie burst into laughter as the pair of them began to play fight, Jamie digging Steve in the ribs with a well-aimed jab. “Ouch! “ Steve stood up, rubbing at his side, that had hurt a little too much for his liking. “Nice shot.”

“Bucky said I had a good right hook.”

Steve rolled his eyes “I don’t wanna know how he even found that out.”

“He has a punch bag in the garage.” Jamie shrugged as he flopped down onto his bed. “Like yours. He was teaching me to swing.”

“I could teach you that.” Steve replied, a little petulantly.

“Will you?”

“No. You’re ten.” He shot back and Jamie let out a groan of frustration, before Steve chuckled “Ok, I’ll teach you a little IF you promise not to use it anywhere but on the punch bag.”

“But what if I need to use it?”

“Well, that’s different.” Steve pondered, before he shook his head. “But you’re far too young to be getting into situations like that.”

“Uncle Buck said you were fighting people form the age of six. And getting your ass kicked.”

“Well, you do as I say…”

“Not as I do, yeah I got it.” Jamie grinned and Steve arched an eyebrow before he made his way to the door. He paused and turned back to look at his son, not for the first time taking in how damned tall and broad he was for his age. He pointed to Stark “Don’t let your mother catch him on the bed.”

“You know she says the same thing about you.” Jamie looked at him and Steve chuckled.

“I do, but let’s just pretend I don’t okay?”

“Okay, night dad. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Steve smiled, closing the door behind him.

He made his way back downstairs and into the lounge, and paused as he saw Katie talking into the laptop, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Don’t worry about it.” She said softly, and he could tell she was fighting to keep her face straight as Emmy’s voice came from the other side.

“I’m just gutted we can’t get home to come with you guys for the tree.”

“What’s going on?” Steve frowned as he sat next to Katie on the sofa, looking at Emmy and Peter as they both waved to him on the screen “Hey Kids.”

“The UK has been caught up in a huge snow storm.” Katie turned to him. “Their flight has been cancelled.”

“Bummer.” Steve’s frown deepened “Is there nothing from another airport?”

“Not in London.” Emmy shook her head “And the roads are that bad, even if we managed somewhere else…”

“Don’t wanna risk driving Mr R.” Pete shrugged and Steve had to give it to him, that was a sensible move.

“Wise decision.” Steve bit his lip, before he turned to Katie “Can we not get The Stark jet over? You guys should have used that anyway, not gone commercial.”

The irony of his statement didn’t pass him by, as there’d been a time when he had hated using a private jet as he felt it was ostentatious, but he’d fast learned to live with it as it was less hassle and a damned sight comfier and quicker too.

“I told you we didn’t want to.” Emmy shot back and Peter hastily cut in to prevent an argument.

“Already tried Happy before we called. He can’t get in any airfield be it private or other. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Katie shook her head “If you need anything just call. Have you got a place to stay?”

“Yeah, The Savoy found us another room.” Emmy shrugged before she grimaced “I’m gonna have to put it on my credit card though.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Katie shook her head “Just do what you gotta do, we’ll sort the bill out. Do you need us to wire you some cash or-“

“No, we’ve got enough between us for that.” Pete smiled “Just the hotel. We could get somewhere cheaper if that’s-“

“If it’s that bad out there you can stay where you are.” Steve shook his head. “Don’t worry about the money kids, it’s not important.”

“Just call us if you need anything.” Katie added.

“Thanks Mom. Look, we’re gonna go try and get something to eat and then sleep” Emmy sighed “It’s past 1 am now.”

“Sure, call us tomorrow okay, keep us updated.” Steve instructed and Emmy nodded.

“Will do. Love you both.”

“And you.” Katie smiled “Stay safe, and look after each other.”

“Got it.” Emmy grinned and with that she blew them both a kiss as Peter waved and the screen went blank.

Katie bit her lip before she tapped at the keyboard of her laptop “I’m going to send her some money, just in case. I know she has plenty in her savings, but…”

Steve nodded “Good idea. Those are for a rainy day, not a snowy one.”

Katie gave a small smile as she logged into the banking, and hesitated before she transferred a few thousand over to Emmy and closed the laptop, running her hands over her face. Steve saw her shouldes shake and he gave a sigh, pulling her to him.

“Hey, come on. They’re safe. In the poshest hotel known to man.” He pressed a kiss to her head “No doubt thinking this is some kind of huge romantic adventure. Snowed in, in London, with a mini-bar, room service.”

At that thought he grimaced, as his mind took him to a very dark place about just exactly what the spider kid would be doing to his daughter in said hotel room but he shook himself out of it as Katie spoke, sniffling a little.

“I know it’s just, well we started this tradition with Emmy that first Christmas she lived with us.” Her voice cracked “We went with Tony, Pep and Nat remember?”

“I could I forget.” Steve chuckled, his hands rubbing Katie’s back “You were almost five months pregnant and had that jumper on with a huge Christmas pudding on the front.”

“I’ve still got that.” Her voice was muffled as her face pressed into his Henley.

“And Pepper was going mad when Tony bought that nine foot tree for their lounge.”

“Ours wasn’t much smaller.” Katie laughed, leaning back to wipe her eyes. “You had to trim the top off.”

Steve chuckled, his hands cupping her face “A few days after that we found out bump was blue. Hello Jamie.”

“God it seems so long ago.”

“It was.” Steve smiled pressing a kiss to her lips. “11 years.”

“Yeah.” Katie looked at him “We’ve been through a lot since then.”

Steve nodded, as he wiped her face with his thumbs “And a lot worse than this. I know it’s disappointing, kitten, and I’m gutted as well, but it can’t be helped. We’ll still have a good time and we can go out with Emmy and Peter when they get back, nice meal and a few drinks somewhere instead, just the four of us. Start a new tradition now she’s all grown up.”

“Yeah suppose.” Katie sighed “I mean when they moved out in the New Year, they might not wanna come with us to get a tree anymore.”

“Like that’s gonna happen.” Steve snorted “She’ll simply be getting one for her own place. You know she loves Christmas as much as you. All the kids do. Because you make it so special.”

“It isn’t all down to me.” She smiled “You help.”

“It’s definitely your speciality.” Steve shook his head “You do the baking, the carols, the cooking…suss the decorations out.”

“Yeah, but you hang them. And you’re the one that started leaving Santa footprints by the hearth.”

“Okay so it’s a team effort.” Steve shrugged, dropping another kiss to her lips. “It always is when the kids are concerned.” He pulled back a little and nodded to her glass “You want another?”

“I wasn’t going to but yeah, now I do.”

Steve chuckled “I’ll go get us a drink, you find us something suitably Christmassy to watch.”

He stood, pressing his lips to the crown of Katie’s head before he wandered into the kitchen. As he closed the door behind him he pulled out his phone. He’d had an idea, but hadn’t wanted to mention it to Katie just in case it didn’t work…but if it did, well, he was going to reunite his family for their tradition and earn himself major husband points.

Win win situation.

“Hey punk.” Bucky drawled as he picked up.“What’s crackalackin?”

“God you talk some shit.” Steve rolled his eyes and Bucky laughed

“Sorry, we were watching Madagascar.”

“Yeah, I know where it’s from. I got five kids, remember. Six if I count you.”

“Well you could argue Diva Doll counts for two so you really have seven.”

“Yeah, speaking of which, I got a bone to pick with you about her and a damned capybara.” Steve narrowed his eyes as he spoke and there was a pause before Bucky burst out laughing. “Yeah, laugh it up, jerk. That got me in some major shit before.”

“You didn’t say yes?”

“No of course I didn’t.” Steve sighed “But she sideswiped me asking for a damned cat and I said maybe, so…”

“You fucking moron.”

“Whatever, listen, that’s not why I’m calling anyway.” Steve sighed, his voice growing serious. “I need a favour, Buck.”

“I’m listening.” Bucky replied, before Steve explained the predicament and possible solution. When he finished there was a pause and Bucky let out a long whistle. “Man, that’s…”

“I know, I know.” Steve sighed “But I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate. Katie’s heartbroken Emmy can’t get home.”

“Well, we can’t have the second most important woman in my life upset now can we?” Bucky replied “Leave it with me.”

“Cheers buddy.”

“You’ll owe me a life time of favours if I can pull this off.”

“We’ll call it quits for you almost getting me couched.”

“Not my fault you can’t say no to your likkle Princessa.” Bucky responded and Steve snorted.

“You’ve met her, right?”

There as another pause and Bucky laughed “Point taken.”

“Not a word to Katie.” Steve instructed “Just in case you can’t do it.”

“You seriously doubt me after all this time?” Bucky sighed “That hurts Stevie.”

“You know what else will hurt?” Steve shot back “My foot up your ass.”

“You want me to do this or not?” Bucky scoffed “Because threatening me aint gonna make me wanna do you any favours.”

“No but not wanting to see my wife upset is.”

“You fight dirty, Steven.” Bucky’s voice was low and Steve could imagine the narrowed eyes he was pulling as he spoke. “Okay, I’ll call Sam now. Leave it with me.”

“Thanks Buck.”

Steve cut the call and stuffed his phone back in his pocket, running a hand over his beard. Buck was right, it was a big ask and ridiculously over the top but, well, nothing was too much for him where his family was concerned. And after everything they’d been through this year what with Flossie’s horrific birth and Katie’s post-partum depression, his amazingly brave and gorgeous wife deserved the damned world. With a sigh he yanked open the fridge as he pulled out Katie’s wine and a beer for him, simply hoping that it worked.

**** “You good?” Steve asked as Jamie hopped into the back of the Q7, taking his place on the rear row of seats.

“Yup.” Jamie grinned “I prefer it back here, Rori can’t bug me.”

“Wanna bet?” Rori turned her head and peered at him from her place in the middle of the second row and Steve shot her a look.

“Enough. I hear one sound outta you that’s annoying him, we’re coming straight home.” He said sternly. Rori eyed him shrewdly, as if weighing up whether he was serious or not and he raised his eyebrows, challenging her.

“Ok Daddy.” She shrugged, turning back round. Steve shot Jamie a wink as turned and collapsed Flossie’s little stroller. He slotted it down the side of Jamie’s seat before he shut the trunk and then quickly inspected the roof rack. Satisfied he looked up just as Katie came out of the house, Flossie on her hip, Harry jumping down the steps in front of her. He headed over to his dad and peeked up, Steve giving a laugh as his little woollen hat slipped down over his eyes.

“Come here, buddy.” He said, swinging him into his arms. The little boy gave a giggle as Steve pulled his hat straight so he could see.

“Thanks Daddy!” he smiled and Steve pressed a kiss to his rosy cheek.

“No problem. You ready to get a tree?”

He nodded “Big one!” he threw his arms out wide and Steve nodded seriously.

“The biggest.”

Ten minutes or so later they were sailing out of Brooklyn in the winter morning sun, heading for the tree farm some forty or so minutes away. True to her word, Rori was behaving and chatting to Harry, Jamie was quiet in the back doing something on his tablet and Katie was gently humming to something on the radio. Steve’s hand reached over for hers and he entwined their fingers, gently bringing her arm across his body, pressing a kiss to her wrist.

The journey pass uneventfully and as Steve announced they had arrived the kids all gave a cheer. He parked the car up and then the disembarking began along with issued orders for Jamie and Rori to stay where they were as they sorted the youngest two.

“I think I’ll just carry Floss.” Katie glanced around. “Pushing her stroller is gonna be a pain. I’ll put her in the carrier.”

“You sure?” Steve asked “I would say I’d do it but…”

“You’re gonna be carrying trees, yeah I know.” Katie waved him away. “Its fine, she’s not heavy. Besides, she’ll be too big to do this with next year.”

Steve smiled at her wistful tone, and between them they had Flossie strapped to Katie’s back in no time, having become experts at it over the years. Katie glanced over her shoulder as Flossie gave her a hug grin, before she peeked around and started to gabble animatedly.

“Ready?” Steve looked around and held the hand that wasn’t containing the saw out, Rori taking it as Katie took Harry’s, Jamie falling into step at her other side next to Steve who strategically placed himself between his eldest son and Rori to avoid any potential arguments between the two siblings.

“Want me to take that Dad?” Jamie asked, nodding to the saw. Steve hesitated then shrugged, it had the safety cover on so he handed it over, Jamie slinging it over his shoulder proudly, stepping in front of them a little and Harry wriggled his hand free of Katie’s and ran forward to take Jamie’s. Jamie smiled down at him and Steve shared a glance with Katie as she smiled at him, slipping her hand into his. The family made their way to the entrance and as they approached the various little trade stands, one of which was selling various hot drinks and baked snacks. Katie took a deep breath and smiled, the warming scents of spices, cinnamon and pine hitting her nostrils.

“Smells exactly the same.” She beamed and then frowned as Steve was looking around, blatantly not listening to her as he was busy studying something to their right.

“Hey!” she tugged on his hand and he glanced down at her.

“Sorry, honey.” He diverted his attention “Just saw someone I know.”

“Oh, from work?” she asked.

“Not exactly.” He nodded in the direction he had been looking and Katie spun at the same time Rori let out a shriek.

“Emmy!” she yelled, wrenching her hand free of Steve’s and bolting towards her sister as she strode towards them alongside Peter, Bucky and Sam.

“I don’t-how?” Katie was struggling for words at the sheer emotion of seeing her eldest daughter, who should still be stranded in England, sweeping Rori into hug. “Steve? What?”

“You got Bucky and Sam to thank.” He said gently, as she spun between them all, before she strode forward meeting Emmy halfway and throwing her arms around her.

“Hey mom!” Emmy smiled, before she pulled back and gently waggled Flossie’s hand. “Hi Floss!”

“How did you get here?” Katie sniffed, wiping her eyes, chuckling before she gave Pete a hug.

“Quinjet.” Emmy grinned “It was awesome. Hey Dad!”

“Hey, sweetheart.” Steve swept her up into a huge hug, picking her up slightly off the ground kissing her head. “Nice to have you home.”

“Hold up, a Quinjet?” Katie looked at Emmy, then to Bucky who shrugged.

“Yeah well Steve rang me last night begging for my help…” he began, putting on a whiney voice “Please Buck, I can’t do this without you Buck, you know the usual.” Steve rolled his eyes as Bucky sniggered. “So, me and Birdbrain set off on a daring rescue mission.”

“Yeah, we totally used and abused Fury’s equipment.” Sam chuckled, as he pressed a kiss to Katie’s cheek as he gave her a hug. “He’s gonna be pissed when he finds out.”

“Oh, screw him!” Katie gave a laugh as she turned to Bucky, wrapping her arms round him. “Thank you so much!”

“Anything for you darlin’” he beamed before she stepped back and spun to face Steve, reaching up and grabbing his face. With a smile she pulled him down to meet her in a long, deep kiss.

“Thank you.” She whispered against his lips, and he beamed at her, his nose brushing hers. “I love you, so much.”

“Love you too.” He smiled, before he drew himself up, a little embarrassed at their PDA in front of his two friends and the kids. “Right, who’s ready to go tree picking?”

“We’ll leave you to it.” Bucky smirked as various excited shouts rang out around them. “I’ve got stuff to do with Jen and Sam’s…ahhhh, crap.” The smile on his face turned into a grimace and Steve spun round to see a familiar figure in a trench coat and eyepatch stood by a black SUV watching from a distance.

“Son of a-” Steve snorted, shaking his head as Fury started walking towards of them. “He still knows everything.”

“You have no idea. “Sam muttered.

“Oh, trust me, we do.” Katie grinned as Fury stopped in front of them.

“Someone wanna tell me why one of my jets was in London this morning?” Fury looked at Bucky, then to Sam, then to Peter, all three of them giving him an innocent look.

“Well, there was a thing.” Bucky shrugged “Emergency.”

“Emergency.” Fury dead panned “So nothing to do with a certain Miss Rogers and Mr Parker being stuck in London in snow storm?”

“How do you know this stuff?” Bucky looked at him.

“I told you Barnes, you wanna get one up on me you gotta keep both eyes open.” He levelled him with a look. “Happy called me in a flap to see if I could action a pick up and I told him I wasn’t running a damned Uber service. And then one of them went missing so I put two and two together and looks like I came up with four” He paused and shrugged, smirking a little “Plus, you forgot to wipe the mission log.”

“Damned it Tin Man!” Sam shoved Bucky “You dick, I told you!”

As the two men began to squabble Fury raised his eyebrows and turned to Steve and then Katie, a small smile flickered across his face “Nova, Cap. Long-time no see.”

“Hi Nick.” Steve smiled, reaching out and shaking his hand.

Fury jerked his head as Katie shook his hand, his eyes roving over each of their kids in turn. “I’ll say. You’ve been busy I see.”

Katie gave a huff “One way of putting it.”

Nick arched an eyebrow before he sighed and turned to Bucky and Sam who were still bickering. “Imma let this one slide.” He spoke loudly, the two men instantly turning to face him. “But only because it’s the holidays and I’m in a good mood.”

“You know technically Stark Industries owns half those jets. Tony paid for and designed a lot of the tech on them after all.” Katie quipped and Nick looked at her, before he let out a laugh.

“You’re more like your brother than you’ll ever care to admit” he shook his head as she snorted, pointing at her.

“Worse people to be like.” She smiled fondly, and Fury gave one last scoff before he turned to Sam and Bucky.

“I’ll see you two later. Now, imma go get me some churros then split.” He looked back at them all “Merry Christmas.”

As they all waved him off, watching the curious glances he attracted as he strode towards the hot food stand and then Harry tugged on Steve’s sleeve, causing him to turn his attention from Fury to the little boy.

“Daddy, who’s the pirate?” Harry asked.

There was a pause before Katie burst out laughing, Steve following suite as they both shared a knowing glance, remembering Tony’s fond little nickname for their one time director.

The Goth Pirate.

“He’s an old friend of mine and your momma’s “Steve explained before he glanced up, not surprised to find that once more Fury had disappeared from sight. “We haven’t seen him in a while. And I doubt we will again for a long time.”

There were more hugs shared and after another final thank you to Sam and Bucky, Katie demanding they come over later for drinks, the four remaining adults and four kids all headed into the farm and the chaos began as they began to scout for their perfect trees.

“So we need two large ones.” Katie spoke, “And one for Emmy and Pete in the Cabin and a smaller one for Rori’s room.” she paused “Jamie, did you want one for your room too?”

“Nah, it’s okay.” He shook his head “Thanks though.”

“So four over all.” Steve nodded. “Okay gang, let’s find us some trees.”

They decided to get Rori’s first as it would be smaller and easier to carry once they’d picked it. They set about walking down the various aisles, and before long the jokes started flowing and they were getting worse and worse with time.

“What would you get if you ate the Christmas decorations?” Pete asked and Jamie looked at him, arching a brow. “Tinselitis.”

“Oh God.” Emmy snorted “That’s as bad as one of dad’s”

“Which reminds me.” Steve said, a smirk on his face, “Did you guys hear the forecast for Christmas eve? They’re predicting rain, deer…”

Katie and Emmy both let out a groan as Jamie and Peter howled with laughter.

“What do you call an elf that runs away from Santa’s workshop?” Jamie asked and Steve paused before he shrugged.

“No idea.”

“A rebel without a Clause…”

Katie, Steve, Emmy and Pete burst out laughing as Pete held out his hand to hi-five him. Jamie grinned.

“That’s a good one buddy.” Steve chuckled. “Where did you hear that?”

“Moo text me before.” He smiled “She said her and Auntie Pep had been googling them to put in their cards this year.”

“Like Father like daughter.” Katie smiled to herself, a little nostalgically as a memory of her brother crashed over her and Steve pulled her a little closer, his hand tightening on hers as he dropped a kiss to her head.

After half an hour or so of scouting and plenty of excited shouts and laughter, Rori paused in front of a tree that was the same height as her and she gave a gasp.

“Daddy, that one.” She pointed.

“You sure?” he cocked his head to one side. The tree was leaning to one side, the branches completely uneven, sticking out at all angles and the top was bent. “It’s a bit-”

“It’s perfect.” Rori insisted.

“Okay Princess, whatever you say.”  He looked at Katie as she smiled, her hand dropping to the back of Rori’s head. “Jamie, you got the saw?”

“Yup.” Jamie nodded, passing it over and they all watched as Steve gripped the trunk of the small tree with one hand a little higher up and began to cut it towards the bottom. He could have easily snapped the trunk with his bare hands but he played the part and in four strong swipes it pulled free with a little crack and Rori gave a shriek and clapped her hands.

“I love it!”

Once the safety cover was back on the saw they continued their search, walking towards the slightly bigger trees they spotted and Katie paused in front of a large, Norwegian spruce and reached out, gently crushing one of the needles between her fingers. She took a sniff and stepped back, nodding.

“That one.”

“I still can’t believe you pick them with the smell.” Steve shook his head.

“It’s not all the smell.” She protested “There’s a lot to consider. The height, width and spacing of the branches…this one’s just right for the corner in the lounge. And that one two down will do for the hallway.”

Steve chuckled, knowing better than to argue. “Positive?”

Katie nodded and once more Jamie passed him the saw. This time they all stepped back as Steve crouched down on the ground, expertly cutting the trunk and just the right place. As he took the final swipe, the tree pitched over to a loud shout of “Timberrrrr” from Jamie and Peter and it landed with a thud.

Harry gave a loud cackle and clapped, Flossie shrieking too as Steve then moved two down and repeated the action with a slightly smaller one that would sit in the entrance lounge directly in front of the photo of the pair of them at their wedding, so it would be the first thing anyone saw as they walked into the house.

Emmy strode past the tree to one that was behind it and then nodded to Pete “I think this one will do. I kinda like the way it fans out at the bottom.”

“Sure, Em.” He smiled “Mr R?”

“Oh, here.” Steve handed him the saw and watched as Pete cut his and Emmy’s first Christmas tree down, his arm round Katie’s waist, lips softly kissing Flossie’s cheek as the baby grinned. He arched an eyebrow as Emmy pressed a kiss to Pete’s lips, giving a soft huff as Katie dug him in the ribs, shooting him a warning glance which he returned with an innocent one of his own.

“Well, that was easy.” Emmy commented “It took us 2 hours last year.”

“They need to be right.” Katie shrugged simply, Steve and Emmy exchanging a look before Steve watched as Pete hoisted his tree easily onto his shoulder. It still surprised Steve how strong Peter was, even though it shouldn’t, he knew he was enhanced after all.

“I’ll take Rori’s, Dad.” Jamie stepped forwards, puffing his chest out a little, picking the smaller tree up easily and placing it on his shoulder, in an identical manner to Pete. Steve actively fought the urge to laugh as Jamie began to walk besides Peter and Emmy, clearly proud as punch at being able to help before he turned to Katie.

“Don’t say it.”

Katie laughed “Oh I’m gonna.” she smirked “If he was any more like you I’d be convinced he was a clone.”

Steve snorted as he bent down and easily lifted their two trees onto his shoulders, before they followed a little slower due to Harry being with them. Steve maneuvered around the other tree pickers as they went, his boot clad feet traipsing on the damp of the ground as they made their way back towards the main entrance and joined Pete, Emmy and Jamie at the place ready to pay. As the various helpers, all dressed in little Elf outfits bustled around to wrap their trees and strap them to the roof of the Audi, Katie was suddenly struck with a little problem.

“Hang on.” she turned to Emmy as she thanked the man who’d been dealing with and handed over the cash. “How are you two gonna get home if Bucky and Sam left?”

At that Pete gave a little grin and pulled a set of keys out of his pocket, “Mr Wilson let me borrow his Chevvy.”

“Yeah they went home on Buck’s bike.” Emmy shrugged and at that Steve let out a huge laugh.

“What?” Katie asked.

“Sorry, I’m just picturing those two riding pillion.” He snorted “I give it five minutes before Sam ended up tells Buck to let him off on account of him driving his Ducatti like a maniac.”

“You’ve no room to talk.” Katie scoffed and Steve looked at her with mock outrage.

“Mom?” Jamie asked and Katie turned to him “Can we get a drink now please?”

“Sure, come on.” She smiled and they headed over to the stall. She purchased a hot cider each for her, Steve, Emmy and Pete before hot chocolate for each of the kids along with a selection of donuts, churros and Stollen as Steve took Flossie back to the car so they could pop her in the stroller. They made their way over to one of the benches by the side and sat down and Steve returned, parking Flossie besides them before he handed her a piece of a donut and slipped his arm round Katie, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“You have a good time?” he asked.

“Yeah.” She beamed, before she glanced over at the other side of the bench. Jamie was settled to Emmy’s left, talking to her about school, as she nodded along whilst Rori was perched on Peter’s knee as she animatedly told him about how she was going to decorate her tree in unicorn colours. Harry meanwhile sat in between both Pete and Emmy, his little frame chewing on a donut as he grinned at his parents who smiled back. Katie turned to look a Steve again, leaning up to kiss him softly “It’s been perfect, thank you for making sure we were all together.”

“Well it wouldn’t be a Rogers Christmas otherwise would it?” he smiled, kissing her again.

“Get a room.” Emmy grumbled and Steve turned to her as she smirked, shoving a piece of donut in her mouth.

“Watch it young lady.” Steve pointed at her.                      

“Daddy.” Rori asked “Can I go with Pete in their car to Target? I need decorations for my Princess Tree.”

Steve hesitated for a while and Pete hastily cut in “It’s no bother Mr Rogers.”

“Yeah we need some for ours.” Emmy nodded.”So we’re going anyway.”

“I come too?” Harry asked hopefully and Emmy shrugged

“If Momma and Daddy say it’s ok, course you can, squirt.”

Steve looked at Katie who shrugged “Fine by me. Sure you can manage them?”

Emmy rolled her eyes “They’re no bother.” She then turned to Jamie “You wanna come too?”

“Hell no.” he said hastily, peering round at Rori before he shook his head “I’m going home for some peace and quiet.”

Both Steve and Katie let out a loud laugh, as Katie shook her head “Oh Jamie.”

“What?” he frowned.

“Nothing pal.” Steve smiled, reaching for his cider. “Nothing at all.”

#ssholidaychallenge #sageandsweater