#i can’t believe thanksgiving is in two days

[buckrecs]

Hi!! Was wondering if you had recs for Bucky and reader fake dating??

Fake Dating / Marriage

masterlist | req masterlist

ONESHOT

Keeping Score by @all1e23

After hearing you begging Steve to pretend to be your fake boyfriend to keep your family off your back, Bucky quickly jumps at the chance to play your boyfriend even though you’re a hundred percent sure he hates you. What could possibly go wrong?

the right partner by @bucky-bucket-barnes

You and Bucky have always possessed a complicated history, and even more strained relationship with one another. Begrudgingly, you're sent out on a mission with Barnes where you two are posing as a newly wed couple. In an effort to investigate the consistent disappearance of young women in a certain neighborhood, you find yourselves forced to confront a whirlwind of emotions.

Suburbia by @wkemeup

Posing as husband and wife, you and Bucky infiltrate a quaint suburban neighborhood in search of a Hydra hacker. Perhaps if you weren’t so in love with him and he hadn’t broken your heart, the act of pretending wouldn’t hurt so much.

where do we go from here by @barnesafterglow

when you agree to be bucky's date for his sister's wedding - and his fake girlfriend for the weekend - you're expecting a good time with your best friend. but things may never go back to normal

Fake It Till You Make It by @buckyalpine

Fake dating solves everything… right?

A Little Longer by @buckyalpine

It’s just a little lie.

Crossing The Line by @jadedvibes

After your friends set you up on a blind date with your sworn enemy, you both drunkenly decide to mess with them by making a bet to see who can pretend to be a happy couple the longest.

annoying neighbors and fake boyfriends | 2 by @lovelybarnes

“You stayed over at my place one night but my nosy, annoying neighbour saw you leave. They always get on my case about being single so I told them that we’re dating to show them”

Undercover by @buckysknifecollection

You and Bucky go on an undercover mission, where you need to pretend to be married. You are close to solving the case when Bucky decides he’s done pretending.

Make Believe on Christmas Eve by @green-eyeddragonfanfiction

When your family insists you bring your [nonexistent] long-term boyfriend over for Christmas, you panic. You hadn’t expected to be put in this situation; you never thought you’d actually have to bring “him” over.

Stop flirting with the staff by @writingsoftheloser

You and Bucky go undercover to stop the sale of a very important device.

The Karen’s of the World by @espinosaurusrexex

Aunt Karen is possibly the worst person you know. So when her annual Independence Day party arrives, you try to give her as little reason to pick on you as possible. Not being single for once should cover most of the topics she complains about. So you ask your friend Bucky to play pretend.

Tis the damn season by @starrysebastians

On the first post-blip Thanksgiving, you find yourself having to reunite with your parents and your heart is not in it — Sam persuades you to take Bucky with you, and this might be an opportunity for you two to get to know each other.

SERIES

The Holiday Hack by @gogolucky13

You ask Bucky to be your stand-in boyfriend for your family’s Christmas party.

Breaking The Rules by @redgillan

You hate James Barnes with a burning passion and the feeling is entirely mutual. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, you are tricked into attending his sister’s wedding as his girlfriend. Stuck with a bunch of strangers, you come up with a set of rules that are not going to last long.

Best Boyfriend You’ve Ever Had by @language-rxgers

When you find out your sister is getting married and expects you to bring a date to her wedding in two months, you panic, having not gone on so much as a coffee date with a guy in far too long. After all, being an Avenger doesn’t leave too much time for a life outside of work. So, when your best friend, none other than the James Buchanan Barnes himself, offers to pretend to be your boyfriend and plus one, how can you refuse? It seems like something that would come out of a movie. However, real life is never like the movies, and stories like this never go as planned.

Stepping Up by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend

When Steve can’t go with you to your cousin’s wedding, he sends Bucky in his place. What happens when more than one person assume you’re dating? 

Picture Perfect by @writingsoftheloser

When Steve asks his collegue to be his fake girlfriend, she accepts, thinking nothing could really go wrong. Then, she meets Steve’s best friend.

-> this is not bucky and reader fake dating but it’s one of my favorite fics so I included it!

Worst Idea Ever by @firefly-in-darkness

Wedding Season is brutal as it is but throw in two friends that decide to be each other’s plus ones and a mixed bag of feelings, what's the worst that could happen?

Heart to a Gunfight by @lailannajacobs

You didn’t want to help Bucky Barnes make it through the party by pretending to be his fake girlfriend, after all, you had just met him. You also didn’t plan on the charade lasting as long as it did. 

am i more than you bargained for? by @morsmordre-writes

Bucky has an unwanted secret admirer, so naturally you pretend to be his girlfriend until it blows over. Will someone catch feelings? Will they be absolute idiots about it all? Will they live happily ever after? We may never know.

Almost Had Me Believing It by @tuiccim

An undercover operation playing Bucky Barnes' wife is a dream come true. Playing house in the suburbs while trying to take down a drug ring brings you and Bucky closer but a nosy neighbor causes trouble in paradise.

A Certain Romance by @wienerbarnes

With the threat of yet another bad date at the result of Sam Wilson’s meddling, Bucky’s desperate to find a solution. As are you, another victim to Sam’s failed matchmaking. The two of you come up with a genius plan: pretend to date each other in order to escape the poking and prying nose of the Falcon.

The Proposal by @toomanyrobins2

Y/N Arnaud is the liaison to the Avengers, but she’s also a French citizen. After a couple mistakes, her visa application is denied. Even though they can’t stand each other, Bucky offers to marry her in order to keep her visa status in the U.S. and avoid deportation.

Follow My Lead by @ciarawritesmarvel

You and your new friend Wanda are enjoying a day together at the Avengers Tower, her giving you a tour around the place when you both run into the infamous Bucky Barnes. Moments later, he’s introducing you to Sam as his girlfriend and placing a kiss on your temple and you’re not sure you’ve ever been so confused in your life.

Where Dreams Go To Die by @insomniumstella

#bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes fake dating #fake dating #bucky barnes fake marriage #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #neighbor!bucky #bucky barnes college au #bucky barnes modern au #best friend!bucky

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Self indulgent but … thanksgiving w a gf who loves the holidays but doesn’t have family or friends to spend them with ?

This is really small and super quick, I hope you enjoy it! I do hope you have a wonderful day! (Also went ahead and incorporated two things I made today just because my mind is too lazy to think of anything else. If you don’t like them, womp womp/jk Pretend Gotham War dosent exist)

—

Time written - 8:09 p.m

—

“You sure I’m not invading in on their celebration?” You vocalize your concern for about the fiftieth time after smoothing out your final layer of fluffy, whipped concoction for your dessert dish.

“If anything, Alfred will appreciate one less dessert to make.” Jason responds, casually leaning across the countertop across from you, watching you work your magic on making one of your miracle dishes. While you didn’t necessarily have to bring a dessert, you insisted as a show of good faith.

“It’ll give the old man a reason to sit down for once,” Jason adds, referring to Alfred’s insistence upon waiting by everyone until they got full plates and thoroughly enjoyed a majority of their meals.

You kept asking the same question, just with different rephrasing of words. You were nervous, Jason could see that by the way you smoothed the silicone spatula over the top of your dessert for the tenth time, insisting perfection on something that already tasted heavenly.

Jason would know. He’s always your designated taste tester.

You went above and beyond with everything you did; Making your own whipped cream, using Madagascar vanilla beans, making your own pudding base from scratch.

“Babe.”

“Hm?” You respond with a concentrated stare on your dish.

“Look at me real quick.”

You spare a short glance up at him, putting up a sweet front of a smile. “What? I’m almost done, Jay.”

“I know,” Jason curts. “I’m sure they’ll love it.”

You nod, swallowing before focusing again on the top of your dish. You picked up the recipe from an online blog article about three years ago; an upgrade on a traditional banana pudding using heavy cream and expensive flavoring, the dessert reeking of pure holiday that had to be shared with the rest of the world.

“Are you sure this looks okay?” You ask, feeling like the top of the dessert needed a lot more than wafer cookies and bananas. Nuts? Caramel drizzle?

“It looks great,” Jason insists, approaching your side of the counter, settling his hand along your hip. “Scratch that. It looks delicious, incredible, mouthwatering. All the good words, sweetheart.”

You can’t help but smile, your cheeks warming with his compliments. Raising your whipped cream spoon to his mouth, you tap his bottom lip before giving him a kiss, hearing his muffled chuckle shortly after.

“Decadent,” He adds, licking his bottom lip of any remaining, perfectly sweet cream. “Perfect. Believe me, Dick and Alfred will never see any banana pudding the same way again.”

You could only hope so, giving him another smile. You liked making this dish, bringing it to your work during little dinner parties. The loudest compliment was a dish scraped empty, yet no one ever asked for the recipe. No one wondered who made it, no one really asked.

“You sure it looks perfect?” Again, your doubts can’t help but have you repeat your broken vinyl record. “I want it to be perfect.”

“It is perfect,” Jason gently reassures with firm sentiment, giving your cheek a soft squeeze. You set your mind to something, you keep at it until you’re perfectly satisfied. As stubborn as it makes you, you always try above your best.

This was your first official gathering with the entirety of Jason’s family. It wasn’t your first, as you’ve been over a few times before for pizza and burgers for movie nights, but never with every single Bat related member at a large, ornately decorated table in an extravagant dining room.

Especially, never with Bruce. Not until tonight, where they’d have a little private event to themselves at the manor. A rare occasion where masks and secret identities weren’t needed. Sometimes, criminal behaviors didn’t allow them a break, so this was truly a treat.

Dick could be himself, fussing over preferences of pumpkin and sweet potato to an annoyed Tim. Babs would scoff her amusement while recording them to show off during Christmas, and the rest would gawk or scoff, chatting amongst themselves or listening in on such a boisterous conversation.

This time, the special guest would be you; the girl Red Hood was sweet on long before you knew his name, becoming the sole guardian of every important identity of the Wayne family.

“Trust me. They invited you, it’ll just be us. It was a big vote with no one opposing.”

Those words brought a more comforting, genuine smile to your face, one Jason could tell was more truthful. Holidays were joyfully dreadful to spend alone in an empty home, the promise of a manor full of friendly faces happy to see you, happy to spend time with you and incorporate you into a tradition you desperately craved was a godsend. It felt too good to be true.

The best part of it all was how much Jason understood. He didn’t celebrate these kinds of holidays when he was a child. No foster family, or even his own mother, could spare enough money to provide grand meals and hours of spending time with people you care for.

It took him a long time to get used to it, he wanted that for you as well. You deserved it after all, they all liked you in their own unique way.

“I’m sure a solid nine out of ten attendants will enjoy those sugar cookie martinis,” Jason murmurs while adjusting a few strands of your hair, reminding you of the one underage family member that ‘tolerated’ your presence.

“Do they got a full stock of vanilla vodka?”

“Course they do. Personally know Bruce has a ton of amaretto.”

“‘Personally?’”

“All those bottles for our dates, babe. Grabbed them all from somewhere.”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #dc jason todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd dc

[plutoccult]

BRINGING THEM TO THANKSGIVING (PART TWO)

characters: reiner braun, bertholdt hoover, levi ackerman, erwin smith, and hange zoe (gender neutral pronouns for hange!)

description: headcanons on taking your favorite aot characters home to your family for thanksgiving.

read part one here

author’s note: hello! thank you for all the love on the first part of these headcanons. from my love all mine blowing up to also part one of the thanksgiving headcanons, i’m over the moon. i hope these headcanons are just as good, and happy (early) thanksgiving to those who celebrate! maybe i’ll do something christmas related in the future? in the meantime, i’m working on the next part of my haikyuu x the office au, and i hope more people will check it out! <3

REINER BRAUN:

— listen, i love this man, but he’s a mess. he wants to impress your family so bad! it’s so bad that he’s so in his head that he can’t even focus on having a good time. it’s not until you have a little talk with him in private and insist he let loose and try to have fun that he evades his overthinking head.

— despite his mess of a brain, he’s a total catch in the eyes of your grandmother and aunties. they think he’s a total HOTTIE! they can’t believe you bagged him, but at the same time are so impressed. you can’t help but roll your eyes at such comments while reiner has a hard time believing he’s that attractive.

— even if he’s not as tall as bertholdt, he’s still so tall, but has a better time navigating his stature as compared to his much taller best friend. your little cousins are quite amazed by his build, and he basically puts all the men in your family to shame in terms of muscle. good for you, honestly.

— at dinnertime, he feels more at ease and not as nervous when it came to making a good impression. he already left a positive mark on thanksgiving, and that mark continued throughout the rest of the night. everyone sure had no problem making sure that big boy was fed and was thrilled how much he loved everything. all in all, a success.

BERTHOLDT HOOVER:

— bertholdt is such a shy man!! my god!! he’s worse than reiner in terms of nervousness! no wonder they make such a great pair, they’re both wrecks. but bertholdt is sweaty, beet red mess when he walks through the door, and he can only pray no one notices and you don’t scold him for it (which you never would, but he can’t help but think you’ll do it anyway).

— he’s immediately overwhelmed by everyone greeting him all at once, a million words overlapping on another, and you have to tell everybody to call down and not scare him off right off the bat. bertholdt wouldn’t know what he’d do without you, really.

— honestly, take a shot every time someone mentions how tall bertholdt is. you’d be dead from alcohol poisoning before dinnertime, so don’t even try it. but seriously, everyone is so in awe of his height, it’s insane. you’re sometimes tempted to joke he’s not done yet growing just to make everyone sweat a little, but you don’t want to make your man even more flustered than he already is.

— unfortunately, bertholdt is too ridden with anxiety to properly eat his dinner, even if the small bites he ate were absolutely delicious. luckily for both of you, you get to take leftover plates home! the next day, he devoured his leftovers and ended up eating your plate too, but you weren’t mad. at least he enjoyed your family’s cooking in a place where he felt comfortable; at home with you.

LEVI ACKERMAN:

— you almost didn’t want to bring levi to thanksgiving. not because you didn’t want him to meet your family, but because he seemed so iffy on the subject of thanksgiving in the past. but, when you decided to take a chance and ask him about it, he was—much to your surprise—far more than willing to come along with you and even suggested the two of you bring a dish for the occasion (secretly because it was the one thing he could trust to eat).

— the two of you arrive, and you swore levi’s resting serial killer face would be the ultimate death of the holiday. your mother almost jumped when she opened the door and met levi’s piercing gaze, but was thankfully put at ease when he politely handed her the casserole he made with a soft smile. he was even nice enough to give her reheating instructions too. what a king.

— levi shockingly has a soft spot for children. you didn’t know that about him until now when you saw him cradling your baby niece in his arms with ease while she napped peacefully. the sight almost brought you to tears, seriously.

— even if levi didn’t have much of a family growing up, he could find solace in yours, secretly in his mind hoping he could always have things be this way. you were happy to see him happy, even if he had his own quirky ways of showing it, and you were so glad to have taken the leap to invite him to thanksgiving this year.

ERWIN SMITH:

— YOUR HONOR. i’m about to get oddly passionate about this for some reason, but hear me OUT. erwin is literally THEE man you want to bring home to meet your family. so serious. he’s every parent’s dream son-in-law. a father can only hope their child brings home someone like him, and luckily, you did!

— he’s such a charmer, oh my god. he just exudes bde, i’m not sorry (this is crazy coming from me, who was never a huge fan of erwin). he instantly wins over your family. you can’t even be shocked because he does this with every single person he meets, even you, who was swooned upon first meeting.

— he’s good with all the kids, just showing how more perfect he truly is, if that’s even humanly possible. everyone can’t stop talking about how awesome your man is, and you actually are proud of yourself for that. it’s about time you bagged an absolute 10 out of 10.

— when all is said and done, nobody wants him to go, they want him to stay forever! but don’t worry, he’ll come around for christmas, new year’s, and every other holiday after that.

HANGE ZOE:

— ah, my precious hange. they have their quirks, but that’s what makes them so wonderful, and that’s also why you fell for them in the first place. you can only hope your family falls for hange just like you did.

— honestly, hange just lights up the room. their presence has an instant effect on everyone, and some would argue the holiday for better once you two walked in together.

— i imagine hange talks about their inventions to your parents, showing examples of their previous work. it’s all impressive, really. you’ve got a real smarty pants on your hands, and your parents sure are happy about it! they’re just glad you’re not with someone who’s boring.

— they’re a total child at heart, not in a bad way. hange will play with the little ones as if they’re a kid themselves. they’ll even give out piggyback rides but with a little twist. the twist? bouncing around whilst a child is on their shoulders. thankfully, no one throws up.

— during dinner, hange probably thinks of good thanksgiving themed inventions and politely asks to write their ideas down on their phone since there’s a strict no phone rule at the dinner table. thankfully, your family can make an exception… as long as they’re mentioned in hange’s success story.

© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #attack on titan headcanons #shingeki no kyojin headcanons #aot headcanons #snk headcanons #reiner braun x reader #reiner x reader #reiner braun #bertholdt hoover #bertholdt hoover x reader #bertholdt x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #levi x reader #erwin smith #erwin smith x reader #erwin x reader #hange zoe #hange zoe x reader #hange x reader #pluto writes 📝 #310802

[gentlyweeps-world]

american day

summary: you surprise logan with a day for him

pairing: logan sargeant x fem! not american!reader

warnings: none

genre: fluff | rom-com | cheesy

notes: I’m so sorry if this is too cheesy or stupid, but I loved the idea 🫶

words: 1.1k

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

You knew Logan had been feeling down, not himself and certainly not in a good mental place.

Spending thanksgiving and the Fourth of July racing.

You weren’t from America, but you certainly knew those were staples for him.

So of course being the amazing girlfriend you are, decided to throw him an “American Day” when there was a break in between race weekends.

You picked a day when Logan was busy with training, so you could prepare all of the food you wanted and decorate your apartment with the most American things you could find..

Sure, maybe it was a bit cheesy! But you loved him and he deserved it.

“Babe..what is this?” Logan asks, walking into the kitchen and spotting pumpkin pie, hamburgers and hotdogs. Honestly it was just all of the most American food you could find and make.

“It’s your American Day!” You say with a smile, turning to face him. “I thought I would surprise you with it!”

“You did all of this for me Y/n?” Logan’s eyes widen with surprise as he sees all the American themed food on the table.

“You really did all of this?”

Logan begins to walk around the food, taking it all in as the smell of various grilled and toasted food fills the air.

“You didn’t have to do this sweetie…” He says, his voice laced with both gratitude and slight guilt.

“Of course I did Log..” You say with a warm smile, “You’ve been stressed, and I know you haven’t been yourself lately, don’t lie..”

“I wanted to do something special for you” You add on.

“Thank you…” Logan says, giving you a sincere smile as his guilt starts to dissipate.

“You really did all of this for me,” he says again, this time in more disbelief than before.

“You’re the best…” Logan says, giving you a hug as his body calms down.

It hasn’t been the best for him in regards to F1, and being away from home definitely didn’t help things either.

So the fact that you did all of this to help him out definitely means the world to him.

“Okay, okay. How about we eat?” You say with a grin, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

So that’s what you two did, you questioned some of the odd choices, but let Logan enjoy it nonetheless.

“Okay no- that’s not good! How- how do you even enjoy that?” You ask, giving Logan a weird look as he sprays cheese whiz onto some crackers.

“That’s the beauty of it!” Logan responds with a smile, chewing on the crackers and cheese whiz combo.

“You haven’t really tried American food unless you’ve had cheese whiz on crackers.” He chuckles a little as he continues to eat his strange combination of a snack.

“From the few times I've been to America, that doesn’t seem like a common snack..” You say with a grin, taking a cracker and eating it.

“It’s not something that we eat every day, but it’s definitely something common that you can find at any gas station.” Logan chuckles as he continues to eat the cheese whiz crackers, his expression seemingly one of nostalgia.

“We’re a simple country, so simple foods like this are pretty common.”

You let out a chuckle at that, “Yeah you guys are definitely simple..” You say with a small snicker, reaching for an Oreo cookie.

“Don’t act like American-style snacks aren’t the best, because they totally are.” Logan responds with a smirk as he grabs an Oreo as well, taking a bite out of it.

“Okay I will say they are better than Australian snacks..” You say with a giggle. Remembering the time Oscar forced you and Logan to try tim tams and fairy bread.

“Australians have nothing on our snacks.” Logan says with a smirk, taking another bite out of a cookie.

“I’m so glad you didn’t make me any of that stuff, I can’t believe Oscar made us try those weird foods…who the hell puts sprinkles on a slice of white bread?” Logan adds on with a grimace.

“And who the hell eats cheese whiz” You say with a grin, smiling at Logan as you take a moment to look at him.

He looked happy, less tired than how he usually looks. You were glad he was feeling better.

“Fine, you got me there…” Logan says with a smile, rolling his eyes a bit as he takes another bite out of a cookie.

“But you can’t deny that it tastes good!” He chuckles but still has a slight look of embarrassment on his face.

Despite how simple the snack is, there’s something about it that takes him back to his childhood and that feeling of nostalgia is something that’s both comforting and heartwarming.

“Wait okay- so what’s like the most American thing you can think of..” You say with a giggle, fiddling with Logan’s fingers as you two cuddle in bed.

Logan and you had made good work of the food you made, he had loved it.

“Hmm…” He considers your question for a few seconds before answering.

“The most American thing I can think of…” He thinks about the various options and thinks of the first thing that comes to mind.

“Definitely a Fourth of July block party or something like that,” He says, his answer seeming pretty reasonable.

“You know, the ones where you get together with all your friends and have a bbq, play games, and just have a good time…”

“Yeah, kinda like that now that you mention it…” He says, thinking of the similarities between the two.

You nod your head at his words, getting a visual, “That sounds like fun..it’s kind of like a street party, then?” You ask, trying to make a connection.

Logan seems to be remembering a time in his youth, when he was at one of these parties and just having a good time.

“Why don’t you tell me about it?” You ask softly with a smile, cuddling closer into him, resting your head on his chest.

“Well, I was about eight or nine…”

Logan starts to tell you the story as he holds you close and rubs your back.

“It was a pretty traditional party where one of my dad’s friends was grilling burgers and hotdogs.”

“We had some games set up in the backyard, and there was music playing off of someone’s phone.”

“It was just a very nice day with a bunch of my childhood friends, just enjoying the time together…”

He lets out a chuckle before continuing, “And of course we had massive fireworks”

You let out a giggle at that, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. “Very American Log..” You say with a smile.

“Maybe we can go visit your family in time for a block party?” You suggest.

“Sure baby, that would be lovely.”

Instagram

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logansargeant hi baby

logansargeant I love you 🫶

youruser I love you too 🤍

user027 why is there cheese whiz

user2483 what’s up with the cheese whiz??😭

williamsracing Why is there cheese whiz? 🤔

youruser american day!

logansargeant 🦅🦅

user8462 this is suspiciously american

alex_albon did you show him that tiktok sound

youruser oh I already made a tiktok of him 🤭

logansargeant I hate you both

oscarpiastri What is that abomination??

logansargeant Osc you can’t talk

youruser he’s right, fairy bread is atrocious

lilymhe I love this and I love you

youruser I love you too 🤍🤍

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚

radio 🪩: you guys still aren’t safe from my angst idea (it will have two endings that you guys get to pick from), send in any requests 🫶🫶

permanent taglist: @cixrosie @amajixi @i-wish-this-was-me @nelly187 @hannahwsworld @sltwins @itsprashimusic

#formula one #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #logan sargeant #gently weeps fics #logan sargeant x fem!reader #logan sargeant x y/n #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant blurb #logan sargent x reader #logan sargeant x reader #logie sarge #ls2 #ls2 fluff #ls2 imagine #ls2 x reader #williams formula 1 #williams racing #williams f1 #gently weeps blurbs #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #formula one blurbs #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 x you

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

is it over now with conrad pleasse

First request I finish in a while 🎉 This is progress for my writer block!

Who else is loving the new vault tracks? We were all clowning and hoping for a Harry Styles collab...and were gifted these masterpieces

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

The timeline of your and Conrad’s relationship was a block of confusion. There were so many times where one of you had walked away from a fight or unspokenly called it quits that you didn’t know where your relationship stood. Were you still together? Or was it over?

The first time hearing that your ex was seeing someone else always stung. You heard the rumor from your friend Inez, who had seen him out and about with some brunette. They were getting coffee on Saturday morning, but by the slightly smeared mascara under her eyes, she and Conrad had spent the night together. Inez didn’t want to hurt you, but she wanted you to know in case you were still together. 

A week later, your mouth was moving against Conrad’s, his hands unbuttoning your blouse as yours were pulling at his hair. 

Maybe you were not over.

You accompanied Conrad home for his mother’s birthday and spent a few days at your parents’ mountain cabin for Thanksgiving. It was nice to spend time together with each other’s families. Your relationship was doing better. 

Then you found out what happened during Spring break in Cousins and red flashed in your eyes. Not only had Conrad cheated on you, but he did it with Belly. Of all people, it had it be her. The girl he swore was a family friend, a little sister to him. 

‘’I can’t believe you had sex with her!’’ you lashed, your voice trembling as tears welled up in your eyes. ‘’You’re such a lying traitor, Conrad Fisher!’’ 

‘’We were apart,’’ he fired back, defending himself. ‘’I did not cheat on you—’’  

‘’You did. Steven heard her on the phone talking to Taylor about it.’’ You looked at him with the deepest hurt in your eyes. ‘’How can you do this to me?’’ 

The crack in your voice tugged at Conrad's heartstrings. He hated to see you crying and hurting. The last thing he wanted was to cause you suffering, but he did, and there was no way to undo what he and Belly had done. It was a regrettable mistake, and he wished he could erase it.

‘’I understand that you are upset and I wish you hadn’t found out like that,’’ Conrad began, his voice softer, remorse seeping through. ‘’But I love you. Belly…Belly was a mistake. We were both sad and lonely, and she was just there.’’ 

‘’And you couldn’t control your hormones? This is a teenager's excuse, Conrad. Grow up.’’ 

You didn’t hear from him for the following two months. Summer went and gone, spent traveling around the country with your friends and tanning on all the beaches. It was nice to not hear his name for a while. 

But eventually, Conrad found his way back into your life. As if he had ever truly left. 

‘’His new girl looks exactly like you.’’  

‘’Inez…’’ 

‘’See for yourself.’’ The blonde pulled out her phone with Conrad’s new girl’s instagram page on the screen. 

She was right. Her hair was the same color as yours and she had the same lips shape too. 

‘’I bet he still loves you.’’

After your last fight, all that was left of your relationship had shattered. The trust was broken beyond repair. 

You shook your head and took a sip of your iced coffee. ‘’We’re over.’’ 

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @Idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt

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#conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher fanfic #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty imagine #tsitp

[sycamorelibrary754]

The Piggy Story

Summary: Yelena is Melina’s Secret Santa and takes a crack at a few handmade piggy presents!

Pairing: Yelena x reader (platonic), Natasha x reader, Alexei Alanovich Shostakov x reader (platonic) Melina Vostokoff x reader (platonic)

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: None

A/N: If you read Happy Thanksgiving, you will understand this story. If you didn’t, please enjoy the random silly fluffiness. 😂

For two weeks Yelena had been sneaking around putting everyone on edge. Coming and going at all hours of the night. Not letting you tag along like you normally would when she would walk Fanny. At first, you thought maybe she was preparing for an undercover assignment. Every time you asked her what was up, she evaded answering the question with a face that said, “If I tell you, I have to kill you.” Honestly, it was par for the course. You had learned not to overthink your sister-in-law’s idiosyncrasies. If it was possible, they made you love her even more.

You were still in your pajamas playing cards with Wanda on the sofa of the common room when Natasha walked in. “Hey detka, have you seen Yelena? She was supposed to be in a briefing with me and Steve 20 minutes ago.”

“No, I haven’t,” placing your cards face down on your lap. “Not since this morning anyway.”

“She’s been acting odd lately,” Nat said.

“Odd in general, or odd for her because you know there’s a difference,” Wanda offered.

“That’s true,” pointing at Wanda.

“If you see your best friend, would you tell her that her sister is going to kick her ass?”

“Aye aye wifey,” you giggled with a mock salute and a quick peck to her lips.

Your wife rolled her eyes, “It’s a wonder I married you.”

*^~^*

The next day you and Yelena were putting up Christmas decorations around the compound. You were dancing around the halls in your favorite Christmas sweater singing happily.

“Dashing through the snow

In a one-horse open sleigh

Peter’s on the go

Laughing all the way

Bells on Fanny ring

Making Tony fight

Wanda wants to flip a coin

And sing this song tonight

Jingle bells, Clinton smells

Banner laid an egg

Ant mobile lost a wheel

And Loki got away

Hey!”

“That was very nice, y/n, now how about something from White Christmas?” Handing you a cup of hot cocoa topped with whipped cream.

No can do, boo. Only one performance per Christmas season,” sitting beside her on the sofa.

You both took a small sip of the chocolate beverage, the steam still rising hypnotically off the mug.

“You know, one of mom’s pigs is named Clinton.” Yelena grinned sheepishly.

“Really? That’s funny, I only know Alexi,” slurping some of the whipped cream off the top of your hot cocoa.

“Mom named Alexi, then she asked if Natasha and I would do the honors of naming the other two. Clinton was the poser’s choice.”

“I can’t believe Nat never told me. What name did you choose?” You took another sip of your beverage.

“Sir Francis Bacon.”

You almost choke on your hot cocoa, as you sputter and it rolls down your chin. “Oh my God. That’s adorable! You’ll have to point out which is which when we go to your parents house for Christmas next week.”

“You’ve got some whipped cream on your cheek.” Leaning over and licking it off.

“Oh my God! Who are you, Fanny?! I don’t know where your tongue has been! Ick!! Get some hot water, get some disinfectant, get some iodine!” You jumped up and ran to the bathroom as Yelena lapsed into giggles and fell on the floor.

*^~^*

The next few days are a splendor of Christmas activities. You had just settled down on the sofa wrapped in your favorite blanket to watch The Family Stone with the rest of the team when you noticed you were missing someone.

“Where’s Yelena?”

“In my lab,” Tony replied, tossing popcorn up in the air and catching it in his mouth.

“Umm, why?” Slightly confused.

“Blondie wanted a private space to work on a project. I told her she could use the lab as long as she didn’t joyride any of the suits.”

“Yelena in your lab with unlimited access to nanotechnology.” Nat pondered, grabbing two Christmas cookies and offering you one before snuggling up beside you in your blanket ball.

“Go down there and ask her if she wants to watch the movie,” you said, throwing popcorn across the room at Kate.

“Why me?” The young archer asked.

“Because you’re closer, and she’s starting to freak me out,” you reasoned.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. FRIDAY has an eye on her.” Tony said.

*^~^*

You awoke at Melina and Alexi’s on Christmas morning to the wonderful smell of Cinnamon Rolls and coffee. You agreed to do Secret Santas with your wife’s family this year. You and Natasha were wearing your matching Christmas pajamas ready to exchange presents, but Yelena was unusually eager and insisted on going first.

“I’m so excited! Mama, I was your Secret Santa this year and I wanted to try my hand at a homemade gift,” Yelena said, grabbing Melina’s tablet from the counter and tapping a few buttons on the touchscreen. “Come on in, boys!”

The door opened and all three of Melina’s pigs toddled into the house. As the three swine rounded the corner, you were greeted with the sight of each one wearing a custom-crocheted vest. Red on Alexi, Purple on Clinton, and Orange on Sir Francis Bacon. Each vest was expertly crafted and adorned with their name. Piggy prestige at its finest.

“Surprise, Mama! Now, not only will the piggies be warm in the winter, but they are stylish individuals with lots of pockets!”

“The pigs are wearing vests,” Nat deadpanned. You squeezed her hand with a smile, a silent plea to be nice.

“Not vests, sestra. Pests! Piggy vests. An invention of my own creation.” Yelena corrected. “Just call me the next Tony Stark.”

“The pigs are wearing Pests,” you revised with a giggle.

Thank you so much, sweetheart! They are wonderful. You know, I always thought they needed some sort of clothing. The winters are so harsh in Russia, and they certainly deserve something special.” Melina declared, planting a kiss on her younger daughter’s cheek.

“Alexi has the best Pest! Look at him, girls. He looks just like the Red Guardian. Ready to take on Captain America.” Alexi added, petting his namesake.

“Oh my God, it’s like living in a Dr. Seuss book,” Nat joked.

“I didn’t know you knew how to crochet?” Turning to your best friend.

“I didn’t. No, no… Kate Bishop does though. She taught me. It only took $100 for the yarn and supplies, which I stole from Stark, and a promise to never show up in the middle of the night again unless it’s an emergency.”

“That’s where you were sneaking out to at all hours of the day and night?” Surprise written all over your face.

“Of course, where did you think I was going?” Yelena asked.

“Undercover, the Multiverse, I don’t know!” Turning beat red the longer she looked at you. “You were scaring the crap out of everyone.”

“Ha! That is funny. You are so funny, y/n.” She placed her hands on yours and Natasha’s shoulders. “Now, I don’t want to spoil the surprise, but by New Year’s Eve, a couple of people in this room are going to be stylish individuals as well!” Wrapping you both in a warm group hug.

Natasha looked over at you behind Yelena’s back, and you couldn’t help but smile. Merry Christmas, indeed.

#yelena belova #natasha romanoff x reader #red guardian #melina vostokoff #fluff #mcu #the avengers #wanda maximoff #tony stark #kate bishop

[xetswan]

By Your Side- Prologue

(Joshua Washington X Reader)

(Until Dawn)

[Prologue] [One] [Two]

“Hey sissy.” Jessica jumps on the end of my bed with a huge grin. I raise a brow, closing my laptop.

“What is it, Jess?” I let out a large sigh causing her to pout out her lip.

“Oh come on, I just wanted to hang out with my older sister.” She nudges my calf, scooting closer to me on the bed.

“Right, you haven’t called me sissy in years.” I call her out, to which my little sister scoffs. Shaking her head in disagreement to my statement.

Right now we’ve been home alone, our parents out for some business trip or so they say. They do this every month or two, telling us a business trip came up that they have to go to when in reality we all know it’s just a mini vacation they want to take without feeling guilty. Something they shouldn’t have to feel guilty for.

“Uh, yes I have. Just the other day. Maybe I just want to say it again.” Jessica argues with me and I let out a small chuckle.

“Okay, I’ll keep you to it, sissy.” I mock her, she tries to hide it but she breaks out into a smile as well.

“Okay, fine. I overheard Hannah saying we’re going to the lodge! Did Josh say anything to you about it?” She hops up on her knees, bouncing on my bed a little bit. “It was mentioned but I don’t think I’m going.” I let out a nervous laugh, I watched as her eyes bulged out of the sockets along with her mouth hung wide open.

“You have to go! Mom and dad won’t let me go unless you do.” She grips on my knee shaking me aggressively.

It’s not that I don’t want to go.

It sounds fun as heck but lately Josh has been acting a little more flirtatious with me and I’m not up for an awkward weekend of the group making fun of us. Ever since Thanksgiving he started becoming more flirty with me. I went to his family’s dinner and I don’t know.

I like him, of course I do. Who wouldn’t in my position I just don’t want our friendship to get messed up in the heat of things.

“I.. I don’t know Jessie. I have a lot of homework to catch up on.” I lie, I’m all caught up. I only have three classes so I also have time to work.

“[Name], please. I’ll clean your car whenever you want me to! And your dishes! For a month!” She pleads with me. I bite the tip of my thumb thinking about it. A weekend with friends might get out minds off of things. Josh might not bother me as much as I think he will. I close my eyes.

“Okay,” I breathe out, “okay, I’ll go but please try to make sure the pranks against me are at a minimum. And don’t worry about cleaning my things.” I slouch down a tad bit only to be brought back up by my sister who squeals and hugs me. “I can’t wait for the invitation to make things official!” She lets me go and excitedly leaves my room.

I hear her call Ashley which surprised me. I didn’t expect her to really become friends with Ashley. It’s better than Emily though.

I check my phone that pings a few times, Josh and Chris’s names pop up and I roll my eyes at what they’re saying.

“Partying it up on Mount Washington!!!!!!!!! What you guys think?” Josh using way too many exclamation points.

“I’m in, you know it!” Chris sends with multiple emojis and I snort out a laugh.

“[Name], how about you?” Josh puts a little winky face to which I roll my eyes, a smirk still laid upon my lips though.

“Hm, I don’t know.” I respond back, Chris sends a gasping face emoji in response to my message.

“You’re the life of the party you have to be there:(“ Chris says.

“Is it worth my time though?” I tease them, obviously I already told Jessica I was going. I’m not backing out of my word but it is fun to mess with my boys.

“Oh wowww, can’t believe Miss chugger won’t come to a party… with provided alcohol.” Josh says, my jaw slacks open in shock.

“Hey, Miss chugger is in the past, dead even and she’s not coming back.” I remind him. In high school we of course were bit of partiers.

I was the worst of the worst when it comes to drinking. I’d out drink everyone, chugging disgusting beers, taking shots of pure vodka like it was nothing. Just thinking about those days makes me want to vomit.

“I miss her:(“ Chris comments,

Josh puts the laughing emoji, “me too:(“ I roll my eyes once again.

“Shut up, I’m coming I already told Jessie I would. Miss chugger on the other hand you guys can forget it.” I turn my phone off after I hit send, getting back on my laptop to watching YouTube videos like I was before Jessica rudely came into my room.

“C’mon, sissy, everyone else is already waiting for us!” Jessica dramatically tugs me onto the cable car.

“You’re really sticking with Sissy now?” I scrunch my face, throwing my backpack onto my back since I just had to get my hat out, somehow I forgot how cold it actually was going to be up here. I was currently wearing a little puffer jacket, a pink slightly cropped sweater underneath with low rise jeans.

“Of course, I told you I might want to say it again and I do!” She folds her arms. I shake my head. “Okay, sorry.” I jokingly say.

As the cable car goes up I glance around. Taking in the beauty of it all.

I used to come up here with the Washington’s for the summer sometimes, this also isn’t my first winter up here. I love the Washington’s, they’ve always welcomed me. It was nice to have a place where I didn’t always have to take Jessica with me since she’s my younger sister our parents always expected me to have her tag along.

I love her and all but it’s cool to have my own time too.

“Look, I see them!” She points over to the group who were actually waiting for us. I glance over and they’re waving to us, so we do it back.

Jessica was practically on the edge of her seat excited to get off. As it gets to where we need to be we rush off and get greeted with hugs from our friends. Even if we’ve seen them just days or a few weeks ago.

“It’s nice to see you actually came!” Josh jokes with me, pulling me into a tight hug.

“Yeah, it was a tough decision.” I mess with him. Chris gives me a small side hug.

“Ready for the weekend Chugger?” He takes my hat off to which I slap him on the arm.

“Chugger doesn’t exist anymore. Give me that!” I jump up to grab from the blond.

“I think I’ll wear it.” He places it on his head. “Doesn’t this look nice on me, Josh?” Chris turns to our other friends as we all start walking. “Oh man, I’d totally take you to the bone zone if you were a girl.” Josh says and I let out a sort of loud laugh.

“The bone zone? God you are so corny.” I hold my stomach.

“Okay, okay, calm down. It wasn’t that funny.” Josh pats my back. Chris tries to hold back his laughter as well.

“Are we almost there yet, my feet are killer from the work out I did earlier.” Matt speaks up from behind us, we stop and turn.

“Just a little bit always, princess.” Beth replies to him. “Ha-ha, I’m serious. I might’ve did a little too much.” He mainly comments the last part to himself. I then hear Mike and Emily flirting with each other making me want to gag but then I also notice how Hannah was staring at them, well staring at Mike.

We began walking again and I slowed down a little bit.

“Hey, Han.” I nudge her arm. She snaps out of her thoughts looking at me.

“Hey [Name].” She gives a small smile. “You like him?” I whisper, her face suddenly then drops.

“Who told you? Did Josh read my journal or something?” She starts to panic but I shush her, calming her down.

“No, no, I saw the way you were looking at them. Either you like him or it’s Emily which is kind of doubtful considering I didn’t think you swung that way. It’s not a bad thing if you did.” I rambled on a little bit, causing her to snicker shaking her head.

“It’s him, I didn’t think I was that obvious.” She shyly rubs her hands together, most likely trying to give herself warmth.

“It’s probably not, I just enjoy observing people sometimes.” I assure her.

“Oh, okay. Well I’ve actually done some observing myself and it seems like you’re avoiding my brother.” She calls me out, my mouth instantly closing having nothing to say in response to that spot on observance she had.

“What? I haven’t- I’m not avoiding him.” I disagree, glancing up to see Josh, Chris and Matt messing with each other as Mike cheers for god knows what they’re doing. “Right, so you not coming over on the weekends to hang out with Josh after Thanksgiving is you not avoiding him?” She questions me.

“Exactly it’s not.” I try to stay confident with my answer, attempting to keep a straight face but once I look at her we both burst into laughter.

“Fine, fine! I am.” I sigh out, kicking the snow as we walk up the trail. “But why? You guys never have a problem.” She frowns.

“It’s a long story.” I bite my bottom lip thinking about all that’s happened.

“We have some time before we get to the house.” She says, shrugging her shoulders. I glance up ahead again, seeing as everyone was pre-occupied with each other.

“Josh and I sort of got flirty with each other. Your brother was super headstrong with it. I kind of did it back. We kissed a few times on Thanksgiving night and since that night I was scared it would ruin our friendship so I cut back. I gave excuses to not come over.” I let out in a low voice so only she could hear. Hannah smiles at me sweetly.

“I know I’m a jerk for it but it’s just my anxiety taking over I guess.” I stare at the ground.

“You’re not a jerk. That also wasn’t a long story.” She comments, both of us laughing once again. “Just talk with Josh. You never know what could happen.” Hannah nudges me, I do it back to her. Both of us smiling. “Okay, I will.” I stand up straighter.

Once we get to the lodge, Josh opens the door dramatically.

“Finally, warmth!” Sam opens her arms, spinning around as she walks further inside. I watch Beth turn the lights on with a smirk watching Sam. “Very exciting.” I agree, tugging my jacket off, holding it in my arm.

“Party time!” Mike announces earning the rest of us to cheer. Josh, Chris, Ashley and I go get our rooms, well Josh is showing us to ours, I’m the last one too. He turns a familiar corner and I start to fold my arms.

“This is your room, Josh.” I point out. “Nice observation.” He smirks, taking my jacket and back from my hands he places them down with his on a chair that’s up against the wall. I shake my head, chuckling.

“Where’s my actual room that I usually sleep in?” I lean against the doorway.

“Oh c’mon, babe. Just this weekend.” He comes up to me, taking one of my hands. “Just this weekend, what?” I raise a brow, confused but also intrigued. He leads me into the room, sitting me down before going back to close the door.

“I mean we both know how we feel about each other. It’s pretty obvious.” He concludes, not exactly looking me in the eyes. “And how do we feel about each other, Joshua?” I stare up at him. His eyes finally meet mine, and it looks like he melted just from our eye contact.

“Y’know…” He mutters, coming closer. “I don’t.” I tease him, standing up to push him down on the bed so I’m in between his legs this time. His hands find my hips, aggressively he squeezes them, lowly groaning.

“[Name], please, you don’t understand what you do to me.” He pulls me closer to him, my chest practically in his face. I feel my face warm up, I wasn’t expecting this. My hand drags up his torso to his face, cradling it as I force him to look up at me.

“Let’s try this out.” I whisper. His eyes lighten up, I feel his grip tighten even more.

“What- what do you mean?” He adjusts himself on the bed, I still stare at his face. “Let’s try out the relationship thing,” I begin and a smile erupts on his face.

“But, if this doesn’t work out, we don’t let our friendship get awkward.” I practically am begging with my facial expression. “It will work out.” He pushes me back a little bit so he can stand up. He kisses me gently, first on the lips then trailing down to my jawline.

“We should get going back down before anyone gets suspicious.” I hum out, feeling his lips begin to touch my neck. I try to push on his chest but he’s gripping my sides so tightly like I’ll run away.

“Let them.” He takes a small break only to work on my neck again. “Josh.” I gasp. He snickers, finally stopping. His eyes trail all over my face then to my neck.

“You might want to cover that up.” He taps the spot he was attacking before grabbing his phone from the bed and walking out. My face scrunches up, confused at first but then I rush over to the mirror, I let out a loud gasp.

“Joshua!!” I hold my neck and I hear him let out a laugh. I sigh, going over to the chair with our stuff and dig in it, finding a stupid thin scarf I brought and neatly wrap it to hide the hickey he gave me.

I finally start heading downstairs, joining the rest of the group who were planning out what we’re doing for the weekend.

Later that night Josh and Chris decided to do a drinking game, I sat next to Josh as Chris sat across from us.

Beth and Sam were watching everything go down. “Come on Chugger, you gotta join us.” Chris practically whines, my eyes roll in response. “I told you she’s dead. Now knock it off.” I wave my hand in a swift movement.

“I liked Chugger, she was sexy.” Josh whispered the last part into my ear. I shove him away from me as my face warmed up.

“What was that? Care to share with the class?” Sam speaks up and I felt my eyes widen.

“Chugger, she was a sexy woman back in the day.” Josh announces and my body shrivels down in embarrassment. “She was a careless teenager.” I disagree. “Same thing.” Chris shrugs his shoulders, picking up a beer and beginning to take the first sip.

I watched as the two get shitfaced with Beth and Sam, us three talking about school work or just things going on in our lives.

Sam decides to join the others and I think Hannah went to go write or something, Beth and I are now taking pictures on our phones acting stupid.

Josh and Chris are passed out now.

“I’m glad you decided to come.” Beth smiles at me and I nod, putting my phone down.

“Me too, even if your brother is annoying. I’m still having fun.” I joke, of course forgetting why I have my scarf on I take it off due to me getting hot and my neck starting to sweat.

“He loves you.” Beth mumbles looking over at her drunken brother, laughing. “I don’t know about love but yeah.” I glance over at him, his face smushed on his arm with his mouth wide open.

“Oh my god.” The girl suddenly whispers and I snap my head over to her. “What? What is it?” I look down at myself to see if she accidentally dropped something on me.

“Is that a hickey?” She flicks the spot on my neck, I hiss, slapping her hand away.

“Is that from Josh?” She breaks out into a small laughing fit.

“What- no, it’s- maybe.” I couldn’t find a good excuse okay? Kill me. “That’s hilarious, Matt owes me fifty bucks.” She throws her head back.

“You bet on our love life?” I crossed my arms. “Everyone practically did. Even Chris.” She gets up to start cleaning after Josh and Chris.

I just sit there, in shock from what she just told me.

Beth leaves the room and I go back to sitting beside Josh, laying my head down on his shoulder. He moves around a little bit. “Hm?” He hums and I shush him.

“Sorry, just wanted to be by you.” I whisper. He grumbles a little bit but harshly leans up to put his arm around me, laying his head back down on his other arm. I smile to myself, laying down on my arm, cuddling up next to him. Our legs now sort of entangled together. I didn’t drink or anything but the tiredness of traveling finally hit me.

I don’t even know how much time has passed but that was until I heard the ending of a conversation.

“Just because he’s class Prez doesn’t mean he belongs to everyone… Mike is my man.” I hear Emily say as they leave the kitchen.

“Hey, Em. I’m not anybody’s man.”

“Whatever you say, Darling!” She sings. I lift my head up for a second but then shrug, going back to sleep, I hear someone walk in but I just ignore it.

Thinking I was going to get to fall asleep for longer I instead get Beth walking in to continue cleaning up, I still let Josh hold onto me but I sit my head up to watch her.

“Hey did you see that? Dad said it’d just be us this weekend.” She turns to us but sees the two boys still passed out.

“Josh?”

“He’s been passed out, love. I don’t think you’ll be waking him up anytime soon.” I give her a sad face.

“But what did you see?” I ask. “I thought I saw someone outside. I swear I did.” She frowns, glancing at the window again but she heads over to the counter.

She picks up a bottle that’s in front of us and empty by the way. It’s an older scotch, Jeremiah Cragg.

“Jeez, Josh… Once again brother you outdone us all. She pats the arm that he has around me and I tiredly laugh. I then watch her spin a paper around, picking it up to read it.

“Oh my god. What did our naive sister get herself into now?” Beth turns to us and I raise a brow. “What?” I ask. “Here.” She hands me the paper and I read it. I close my eyes letting out a long breath.

“I think they found out about Hannah’s feelings. This has to be a prank.” I gently pull Josh’s arm off of me and I stand up, placing the paper down and they we look outside to see Hannah crying, running past the window.

“Oh my god.” I gasp.

“Wake Josh I’ll go to the others, I hope that wasn’t Hannah.” She runs outside, I nod. Going over to the passed out drunk. I overhear the others yelling outside for Hannah and then hear Beth run after her sister.

“Josh, Joshua, hun.” I push his body. His snore becomes a little louder and I bite my bottom lip. “Babe, c’mon wake up, Beth and Hannah ran outside.” I say a little loud, shaking him more aggressively.

“What?” He becomes more awake.

“They what?” He lifts his head up.

“The others played a prank on Hannah, I’m guessing it was bad because she ran outside and Beth followed from what I heard.” I tell him, now he’s more alert and he drunkenly stood up. He stumbles a bit so I run over and get him a water.

“Here, drink and let’s go.” I tell him. Suddenly when we saw the group he sobers up.

“What the hell did you guys do!?” Josh angrily shouts, he was holding my hand for support.

“It was just a prank, Josh, we didn’t mean for it to upset her like that.” Emily steps forward and I glare at her. Then at Mike, then to Jessica.

“Especially you, Jessica.” I point a finger at her, her head goes down.

“I can’t believe you guys would do something so stupid like that.” I shake my head, disappointed.

“I tried to warn her, I was too late.” Sam tells me and I smile weakly. “Let’s just hope they come back soon.” I frown.

Soon never came though.

After thirty minutes Josh began to panic and I woke Chris up. Catching him up with everything as we decided to go look for the two sisters.

I called the police and mountain patrol but we never found them.

For months we did search parties, I stayed by Josh’s side, knowing it’s a tough time for him. I barely passed two semesters as I was always with him trying to help.

I didn’t mind it though. I wanted to make sure he was okay. I knew he wasn’t. His parents were rough on him, telling him it was his fault since he was drunk.

It wasn’t his fault. It was our stupid friends fault for playing that dirty prank on Hannah the way they did.

It’s about a year now and no one has even seen a sign of them…

It’s horrible.

#until dawn #until dawn imagines #until dawn x reader #mike munroe #jessica riley #emily davis #until dawn sam #chris hartley #christopher hartley #ashley brown #matt taylor #matthew taylor #josh washington x reader #josh washington #joshua washington #Joshua Washington x reader #beth washington #hannah washington

[frostandflamesfanfic]

Recipe for Family (Steve Harrington x Reader)

Recipe for Family (Rated G)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Word Count: 2.0k

Warnings: None, except tooth-rotting fluff (I was in a mood guys)

Summary: Set Post-ST4. The year is 1990. Everyone has moved on since the events of Vol. 2 and living their lives, Steve more than others. He finally has everything he's ever wanted. Now it's Thanksgiving in Hawkins and he begins to realize more and more about what he's grateful for...and a lot of it has to do with you and the micro-clones you call your family.

“Are we sure that’s everything?”

“Potatoes, cranberry sauce, turkey’s in the oven…I think that’s everything, babe.” Steve’s eyes raked over the rows of platters which were currently littered across the kitchen island. This was one of the first times he could really remember seeing his parents’ kitchen full of this much life and chaos.

Actually, that was a lie.

The first time the Harrington family kitchen at this level of chaos was in the early days of your relationship, when you had first started dating. Steve had mentioned how much he had disliked the holiday season. What point was there to celebrating the holidays if you didn’t have people to share it with? This had evidently been a mistake to tell you, as on the morning of that Thanksgiving, you and Dustin were perched on his doorstep with an abundance of shopping bags and baked goods.

The three of you had spent most of the day together in the kitchen, crafting a holiday meal fit for the whole party. Well, if Steve was being honest, it was more so a duo rather than a trio effort. Dustin had thought it would be helpful to “monitor” your progress by shouting random encouragement from his spot at the island, a bag of chips at his side. Steve couldn’t complain though. It had been one of the best Thanksgivings of his life. He tried so hard to memorize every detail of the day, from the way you shared your grandmother’s secret sweet potato recipe to how many times a stray lock of hair would fall into your eyes.

Now here he was, five years later in the same situation. Except things were a little different now. Thanksgiving was still meant to be shared with his friends, but now everyone had all grown up. The kids he used to babysit were college students now, having just come home to Hawkins for the first time since August. He and Dustin still spoke every chance they had, the young genius being the reason Steve’s phone bill is so damn expensive nowadays. The kid just had to be smart enough to get into Columbia.

Another big change was that Steve now owned his parents’ home. After some protest, they moved out after giving their son the keys and lived in a retirement community just outside of Hawkins. They still don’t talk to him, but that’s okay. He finally came to terms with something truly important: they may have been family by blood, but they weren’t the family that mattered. No, because that was you. . .

. . .and your two daughters: Amelia and Emery.

One year after the chaos of Vecna and the great Hawkins earthquake of ‘86, during your two year anniversary, Steve had finally mustered up the courage to ask you the big question. Proposing seemed a lot easier when he first bought the ring. He planned the whole night: a movie, dinner by candlelight, he even wrote an entire speech. Yet in the heat of the moment, all words simply left him except for those four crucial ones.

He still can’t believe you said yes, not to mention that you gave him two little miracles at once. The twins were three years old now and looking more and more like you every day. However, you still swear that Em has the start of his famous hair and striking hazel eyes. There was nothing Steve loved more than coming home after every long shift to his girls. Every day, without fail, they put the biggest smile on his face as they clung to his leg and held on for dear life as he made exaggerated steps toward you to share a gentle kiss of hello.

“I still feel like we’re missing something,” you mused to yourself as you absentmindedly wiped flour off on your apron. You had been cooking for almost three days straight to make sure that there would be enough food for the stampede of guests arriving in the next few hours. “Did we get the rolls from that bakery Max likes? And the special butter for Will? I know certain dairy bothers his stomach.”

“Babe, relax.” Steve pressed a kiss to your flour-covered cheek. “We have everything. Don’t forget, Robin and Nance are bringing over the green-bean casserole. Jonathan and Will were in charge of the stuffing and Eddie’s bringing over the mulled cider with Argyle.”

“I better not see any weird pineapple covered sides or joints being passed around,” you said with a sigh. Steve watched as your nose scrunched up into that little wrinkle he loved so much. He wished he could lean forward and kiss it off your face entirely, but there were much more important matters at hand. You would certainly kick his ass if he fell behind schedule due to stealing some private time.

Instead, Steve turned his attention to his current challenge: baking the perfect pumpkin pie. “Don’t worry, beautiful,” he tried to soothe as he prepped the pie tin. “Everything is going to be okay. Just head upstairs and get ready. I’ll finish up what’s left.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, now go before I pick you up and drop you in that bedroom myself.”

You smirked. “Is that a threat, Mr. Harrington?”

“No,” he replied. “It’s a promise. Although I can’t promise I’ll be too willing to leave if I have to take you up there myself.” He picked up a nearby dish towel and playfully snapped it in your direction. “Now hurry up. Our guests of honor will be here soon.”

You shook your head with a ghost of a smile, making sure to press a kiss to his lips before you sauntered over to the stairs. Steve rolled his eyes and felt the corner of his own lips pull up into a smirk as you purposefully swayed your hips when taking the first stair.

As he rolled out the final pie crust on the calendar, Steve felt a squeeze around his right leg. Looking down, he caught sight of messy sun-kissed chocolate ringlets and big hazel eyes that shone as bright as stars. “Daddyyyyyy,” came the high-pitched and dramatic cry from his daughter. “When can you pway?”

Steve chuckled. “Soon baby, okay?” He reassured her with a warm smile. “Daddy has to finish making these pies. Why don’t you go and make a card for Uncle Dustin with Amy?” He gestured to the living room, where her lighter-haired sister was happily scribbling atop the paper on the coffee table, eyes glued to the television before her.

His mini-doppelganger gave a huff of indignation far too mature for any five-year-old girl. “But ‘wan play wiff you!”

“Soon, Em. I promise. Daddy just needs to finish the pies.”

Emery tilted her head and Steve had to fight the urge to push back a loose strand of her hair back with flour covered fingers. She appeared to be contemplating something, raising a tiny index finger to her lower lip in thought. The action reminded Steve of you and how you’d nervously play with or bite your lips when deep in thought. “Can I helps?”

A warmth blossomed in Steve’s heart and flooded his entire body. He felt the smile which toyed on his lips threaten to split his face in half. His daughter was asking to help him with something; he could teach her something. “Of course, sweetheart,” he mused. “Now let’s wash those hands before we put the crust in the tin, okay?”

One singing of “happy birthday” and cloud of flour later, Steve held Em’s tiny hands in his own as they pressed the pie dough into the tin together. She was standing on the step-stool the two of you decided to buy early on. It was a preparation purchase for when the girls were a bit older and you wanted to encourage them to do things themselves. The fact that his three-year-old– his very own daughter– was standing in front of him using the steps shocked Steve to the core. This little person was someone he helped to create. She was growing up a little more every single day and it amazed him that this could happen with someone so tiny.

He watched as she stuck her tongue out in concentration when stabbing the dough bottom with a fork. It was only meant to get the air pockets out of the crust, but to young Emery, it was a life or death mission. After they pre-baked the crust, Steve let Em mix up the bowl of pumpkin filling…and maybe be the unofficial taste tester. Someone had to make sure it passed inspection, right?

“WAIT!” Em screeched as Steve reached over her head to pick up the tin to put it in the oven once they finished scooping the filling. He smiled in confusion as she reached over to stick her finger in the filling and dragged it through.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked.

“Uncwe Will says a good artist always signs theiwe work!” Em answered proudly. She leaned back slightly once she was done, tiny index finger pointing to the squiggles now etched in the pie. “Emewy…and Daddy!”

Steve could have melted into a puddle right then and there if he could.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Nothing could have prepared Steve when he saw you come down the stairs a few hours later. While he had dressed up in a navy button down and slacks, you had somehow transformed into a work of art. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you moved from setting the table to adjusting the pigtails you put in Amy’s hair. God, how did he ever get so lucky?

When you finally caught his stare, you smiled and walked over in his direction. “Hey there, handsome,” you quipped. “What’s captured your attention?”

“You,” came the smooth reply. “Always you. Can’t believe I got so lucky."

“I think,” you started as you smoothed out the collar of his shirt, “that I’m the lucky one.”

Before he could say more, guests began arriving and the rest of the night sped by in a blur. The Harrington household was filled with the sounds of laughter and silverware tapping against plates. Eddie and Dustin caught up with Mike and Lucas, lamenting about the various adventures of their Dungeons and Dragons groups. They had planned to get the rest of Hellfire to complete some kind of oneshot over the break, but Steve lost the ability to understand what they were talking about somewhere around the introduction of the land of Frotsgaard.

You were catching up with Nancy and Robin, who had moved out to New York to focus on their education and careers. After graduation, Nancy started work as a cub reporter for the New York Times, whereas Robin decided to study theater and English at NYU. They had just gotten a small apartment near 8th Ave that they absolutely couldn’t wait to decorate. Robin was already talking about Christmas trees, much to Nancy’s chagrin.

Em was practically bursting at the seams to talk about her pumpkin pie that she had baked with Steve. She told everyone about her design and proudly showed off her signature to Will, who grinned and ruffled her hair. He called her a natural artist, which only made her squeal with happiness more. Amy took that as an opportunity to show off her latest drawing to Dustin, who promised to hang it up in his dorm as soon as he got back.

At one point in the evening, Steve reached over to tuck a stray hair behind your ear and kiss your temple. He brought his chair closer and wrapped an arm around your waist. As Robin continued to describe her latest class in a very animated fashion, he could feel you relax in his hold. He pressed another kiss against your skin, this time against the corner of your mouth. “I love you,” he whispered in your ear.

This was all he truly needed.

Growing up, the holidays may not have been anything special for Steve. He would have traded anything to have a kinder family, to have parents that cared. But with the family he has now? The love he found with you, the happiness he feels with your girls? He wouldn’t change that for the world. For once in his life, Steve spent Thanksgiving happy and actually thankful for those in his life.

And that’s all he could ever ask for.

======================

Author's Note: To my American readers, happy thanksgiving! I'm actually surprised I was able to draft and write this idea just in time for the holiday. In all, this took me about 3 hours to write and format. As you can tell, I am still head over heels for domestic Steve Harrington, especially dad!Steve. I had this idea and just knew it needed to be written down. I hope to write more dad!Steve in the future because his interactions with little Em are just precious.

If you want to see more fics like this on my blog, make sure to drop a comment and reblog this post. Likes are appreciated, but it's the reblogs that really help spread the word about my writing and send the happy emotion chemicals into my singular brain cell. Want to join my taglist? Shoot me a message, an ask, or even reply to this post and I'll be sure to tag you! :)

Finally, if you have ideas for dad!Steve, send me your thoughts and maybe I'll have the motivation to craft a fic from it. Either way, I'll definitely be responding and sharing the love for our guy. Until next time, my lovely sparks! <3

Taglist: @bakerstreethound

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #gender neutral reader #dad!steve harrington #thanksgiving fic #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #frostandflamesfanfic #joe keery #joe keery imagines

[leclerc-s]

fruitcake

series masterlist

NOVEMBER 8, 2023

liked by isabellaperez, penelopetrevino, pierregasly and others

maejonesverstappen made smthn special for you guys for the holidays 🤍 ‘fruitcake’ out 11/17!

view all comments

isabellaperez will there be new songs i can traumatize jos with?

maxjonesverstappen1 i can’t believe it’s right before winter break…

↳ isabellaperez CHRISTMAS MUSIC IS ALL YEAR LONG YOU GRINCH!

danieljonesricciardo i am worried.

↳ daphnejonesricciardo i am also worried

estebanocon i still can't look max in the eyes. do not traumatize me again.

user83 CHRISTMAS EP! YES!

user10 watching these guys panic that mae is going to pull another nonsense/a nonsense christmas on them is so fucking funny to me.

user72 any christmas song by the jones sisters is a certified chrismash.

↳ user02 real. i listen to christmas tree farm everyday after thanksgiving

↳ user41 who gives a fuck about thanksgiving?

↳ user02 I DO! IT'S A HOLIDAY TOO! PEOPLE LOVE TO FORGET ABOUT IT.

↳ user41 not everyone lives in the states.

↳ user02 i meant in the states.

landonorris i beg. please do not traumatize us further.

↳ maejonesverstappen no promises 😊

↳ arthur_leclerc think of the children! like olliebearman

↳ olliebearman okay that's rude. i am not a child!

↳ maxjonesverstappen1 you couldn't even drink in vegas. you are a child!

george russell please tell me we are safe from another nonsense christmas.

mae jones-verstappen maybe. maybe not.

esteban ocon i don't think i can take another one.

lewis hamilton i know i can't take another one. i will leave the group chat for real if it happens again.

mae jones-verstappen when i do it's a problem but when penny released mayores no one had a problem.

penelope trevino that was back in 2017! and i didn't know anyone but carlos! let it go! and i also wasn't dating anyone at the time.

carlos sainz that's not true. you were with what's his face. the one who cheated? penelope trevino we don't talk about that dickhead.

natalia ruiz is that the guy carlos said he was glad cheated on you?

daphne jones-ricciardo what?

lando norris dad said what to mom?

penelope trevino in his defense, we hated each other then. when he got cheated on, i told him he deserved it.

isabella perez how the hell are you two even together if you hated each other?

penelope trevino same reason you're with oscar. he taught me how to love again. dulce perez huh. that's cute. when's the wedding?

natalia ruiz i bet carlos and penelope are going to end up married before me.

alex albon she's practically screaming at charles to propose already.

natalia ruiz he's too naïve to get the hint.

logan sargeant have some faith in him nat. maybe he's just scared?

NOVEMBER 17, 2023

liked by maxjonesverstappen1, baileywinters, dulceperez and others

maejonesverstappen fruitcake is officially out now ♡ just sayin i never seen santa klaus and mae jones-verstappen in the same room

view all comments

rowantodd someone's watching too much vampire diaries again.

↳ maejonesverstappen THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS TOO MUCH VAMPIRE DIARIES!

↳ maxjonesverstappen she's forcing me to have a marathon.

↳ maejonesverstappen boy the couch surely looks comfortable for you tonight.

↳ maxjonesverstappen i meant, yay, we're having a vampire diaries marathon!

↳ maejonesverstappen that's better 😊

user53 came into this expecting a cindy lou who to be a happy song. HOW COULD I BE SO WRONG?

user20 this is officially my go to christmas album

pierregasly THIS IS A GOOD DAY! NO DICK REFERENCES ABOUT MAX!

↳ alex_albon WAR IS OVER! I REPEAT WAR IS OVER!

georgerussel63 i can sleep peacefully now!

↳ isabellaperez i know you ass isn't talking, i caught you singing a nonsense christmas the other day.

↳ georgerussell63 yes, but i tend to block out that the song is about max

danieljonesricciardo oh thank god. no more dick jokes.

↳ maejonesverstappen you guys are just haters. you all enjoyed the song before you knew who it was about.

↳ estebanocon it's a good song yes. but it's about max. i did not need to know those things about your life.

↳ maejonesverstappen it would be a shame if there were a christmas nonsense mv.

↳ pierregasly is that just an excuse to leak your sex tape?

↳ maejonesverstappen wouldn't you just love to see that? (it doesn't exist btw)

↳ user47 nah, that's unhinged mae.

isabella perez max blink twice if you need help

max jones-verstappen i am fine. i do not need help. i love the vampire diaries. mae jones-verstappen he's fine. he's being dramatic.

max jones-verstappen THE SHOW IS UNREALISTIC! HOW AM I MEANT TO WATCH IT?

daniel jones-ricciardo it's a show about vampires max, it's not supposed to be realistic!

isabella perez hey, does giuseppe salvatore remind anyone of someone?

natalia ruiz eh, i see him more as a john winchester. max jones-verstappen who the hell are you two talking about? isabella perez NO ONE! natalia ruiz NO ONE!

daniel jones-ricciardo i hate that i understand exactly what they're talking about.

charles leclerc what does it mean?

isabella perez sorry charlie, if you know you know. arthur leclerc unfortunately i understand this

mae jones-verstappen YOU PEOPLE WILL APPRECIATE THE VAMPIRE DIARIES UNIVERSE AND YOU WILL LIKE IT!

penelope trevino they're talking about supernatural mae, not tvd.

mae jones-verstappen i know but i'm making a point here penelope.

mae jones-verstappen i have to go, i have a needy 14 year-old demanding attention.

max jones-verstappen he's doing this shit on purpose. he's stealing my wife's attention from me.

charles leclerc this is what you get for allowing him to live with you until the new year.

max jones-verstappen mama jones deserved a break from the demon. she is living her best life on vacation right now daniel jones-ricciardo she deserve it after raising two wonderful daughters, a demon spawn, and surviving through a divorce.

natalia ruiz stan momma jones and pascale leclerc.

isabella perez AND MY MAMI AND SOPHIE! zoya torres AND NAT! MOTHER IS MOTHERING EVERYONE!

oscar piastri correct me if i'm wrong but isn't rhys doing press for his show soon?

max jones-verstappen he is but that doesn't mean i'm enjoying having him around for the time being.

daniel jones-ricciardo he says that now but he literally bought the kid so many christmas presents max jones-verstappen he's growing on me, sort of like mold.

daphne jones-ricciardo i'm telling him you said that.

max jones-verstappen DON'T YOU DARE DAPHNE!

DECEMBER 7, 2023

liked by maxjonesverstappen1, daphnejonesricciardo, charles_leclerc and others

maejonesverstappen santa doesn't know you like i do music video featuring a very special guest. go watch it to find out!

view all comments

charles_leclerc i better not be watching the video just to see max's face.

↳ charles_leclerc i spoke too soon.

user61 THIS WHOLE VIDEO WAS SO FUCKING CUTE?? THEY ARE THE IT COUPLE OF RED BULL!

↳ maejonesverstappen unfortunately that title belongs to geri and salty spice, but thank you for that!

↳ user61 OH MY GOD!

rowantodd wish my relationship was as cute as this video

↳ pierregasly do i mean nothing to you? i'm trying!

↳ user01 PICK UP THE SLACK TRIPOD!

isabellaperez you win this time jones-verstappen but i will find something new to terrorize jos with trust me.

↳ rhysjones you looking for a partner?

↳ isabellaperez LET'S GO! WELCOME TO THE TERRORIZE JOS CLUB BABY JONES!

↳ maxjonesverstappen oh no. this is why i randomly shivered.

↳ danieljonesricciardo oh no. the world is about to end.

↳ user52 the one thing they didn't want happening happened. i pray for them.

user95 stop this video is so cute. me and who when?

user80 this video just called me single in about 100 different ways.

penelopetrevino this is so cute, pick up the slack carlos.

↳ carlossainz55 is it your job to make us look bad maxjverstappen1?

↳ maxjonesverstappen i am the superior s/o and i have to prove it.

↳ danieljonesricciardo back the fuck up that role belongs to me jones-verstappen. i was here first.

↳ maxjonesverstappen you wouldn't even know your wife if it weren't for me meeting mae.

↳ danieljonesricciardo you don't know that! i'm still superior.

↳ rhysjones you both suck. fernandoalo_oficial would've been a better brother-in-law.

↳ maxjonesverstappen wow, you're the worst.

↳ danieljonesricciardo i'm hurt little stink.

natalia ruiz wow. i wish i was married or engaged.

george russell she's screaming again charles!

isabella perez WHY HAVE I BEEN KEPT AWAY FROM BABY JONES?!

daphne jones-ricciardo for the fact that you and rhys cannot be trusted to be left alone for more than 2 minutes.

mae jones-verstappen because you're both idiots who cannot be left alone.

max jones-verstappen I AM NOT AN IDIOT MAE! AND TELL YOUR HUSBAND TO STOP GLARING AT ME!

mae jones-verstappen YOU STOLE HIS PHONE?

max jones-verstappen added one person

rhys jones I GAVE IT BACK!

rhys jones i get why they call him mad max now.

ollie bearman at least i'm not the youngest one here anymore.

rhys jones renamed the group chat to motorsports biggest headaches

rhys jones changed the group chat icon

rhys jones simply because you are the biggest headaches in motorsports

sebastian vettel finally someone who gets it.

rhys jones OH MY GOD! SOMEBODY SEDATE ME!

max jones-verstappen with pleasure. rhys jones SCREW YOU SID! IT'S SEBASTIAN FUCKING VETTEL! max jones-verstappen calm down timon.

fernando alonso how can you be related to him and somehow he's still not your biggest fan?

rhys jones AND THAT'S FERNANDO ALONSO! MISTER, I RELATE TO YOUR WAR CRIMES! I'M A WAR CRIMINAL TOO! daniel jones-ricciardo once again, it's a character you play. rhys jones SHUT UP BIG STINK!

lewis hamilton oh god, this is great.

rhys jones JUSTICE FOR ABU DHABI 2021 SIR HAMILTON! YOU WERE ROBBED! max jones-verstappen you literally congratulated me after i won. rhys jones DETAILS ARE NOT IMPORTANT

george russell i love this kid

daniel jones-ricciardo you won't be saying that in about 20 minutes when he explains every single piece of lore in percy jackson. he's got serious issues.

isabella perez but he is percy jackson. cut him some slack dude.

rhys jones SHE GETS IT!

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie @lorarri @mypage-myfandoms @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @cowboylikemets1989 @justtprachisblog @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @Smnthnclj

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! love that these guys are scared of mae pulling another nonsense christmas on them. my attempt at covering the actor (i don't know his name) from the santa doesn't know you like do music video is atrocious but it's the thought that count. we need to use our imagination for the sake of the plot. rhys is my precious little baby and i will do anything to protect him.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #the honest series #max verstappen #max verstappen x female oc #formula 1 #formula 1 fic #fanfic #fanfiction #f1 #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #f1 fic

[bordysbae]

Can I get “don’t feel special that i’m here, my mom made me come.” “mhm, sure.” And “are they fighting again?” “worse, they’re kissing” for Adam Fantilli please and thank you <3

“favor”

adam fantilli x f!reader

not proof read oops

“absolutely not mom! i’m not going to his stupid hockey game!” you roll your eyes. your mom then lets out a huff, “please y/n? just do me one favor. i know you guys haven’t spoken since last year, but please? you don’t even have to talk to him,” your mom begs.

“fine. i’m only doing you a favor because i expect one in return,” you groan, obeying her wish and slipping on your shoes. you guys head towards the hockey rink, where part of the fantilli family would be waiting for you two. “oh y/n hi! it’s been so long!” julia fantilli—your mothers lifelong best friend—pulls you into a hug.

“julia, hi! it’s been too long!” you put on a fake smile. the reason you haven’t seen the fantilli family in so long is because you and adam got in a huge fight last year. everyone knows about it since you and adam were best friends, and it came as a shock to everyone. ever since then you’ve tried your best to avoid any events with the fantilli family. but the only ones you couldn’t get out of were the annual events, such as friendsgiving, christmas, and easter. the fight happened last christmas, when you had left the christmas eve dinner to go hang out with your (now ex) boyfriend. both sets of parents said it was okay, but adam flipped out at you the next day.

you two have barely spoken since.

you still to this day never got a full explanation on why adam freaked out, but you’re still angry. it’s been over a year, yet you two have hardly spoken any words to each other besides things like: “happy thanksgiving” “merry christmas” or even “can i borrow a pencil?”

—

as you walk into the hockey rink, the cool air sends a little chill against your arms. it’s been so long since you went to one of adam’s games that you forgot how cold it can get. you take your spot in the bleachers next to your mom, with giulano on your left.

“so, watcha been up to kid?” he asks, making a little smile appear on your lips. giuliano has always been a second father to you, and julia has been a second mom to you too.

“not much, just thinking about colleges i wanna tour next year. i can’t believe i’m gonna be a junior, i can remember me and adam in kindergarten like it was yesterday,” you chuckle, a somber smile forming at your lips. you dwell on the old memories of you and adam, and you can tell giuliano does the same.

“he misses you, y’know” he says, looking out at the ice waiting for the game to start. suddenly your mouth runs dry, “what?”

“don’t play dumb, i know you heard me. i think you should talk to him,” giuliano shrugs. before you can retort, the team skates out onto the ice, and the starting lineup stands on the ice for the national anthem. as you’re sitting back down, you spot the ‘C’ on luca’s jersey.

“luca’s captain now?!” you exclaim.

“yep! first season as captain, we’re so proud of him!” julia chimes in.

“wow, i really have missed a lot,” you mumble. giuliano turns to you and whispers in your ear, “i told you! you should talk to him, like seriously.”

—

adam scores the winning goal, and you find yourself jumping to your feet and clapping. you catch yourself and stop immediately, but your mom is already sending you a smirk. as the two freshly showered boys exit the locker room, adam’s eyes widen when he sees you.

“y/n, hi,” he awkwardly states

“congrats adam,” you say before immediately going to congratulate luca on becoming captain. julia takes your moms hand and goes to greet some of the other parents, meanwhile luca leaves to fill up his water bottle. leaving you and adam.

“um, is there a restroom anywhere?” you ask shyly.

“yeah, follow me.”

you walk next to adam as he leads you around the corner, to a little area with two unisex restroom. you thank him, but stop in your tracks before opening the door. you turn around and see adam beginning to make a 180, but you stop him.

“adam, i’m sorry,” you say, catching his attention. he turns around with a confused look. “for what?” he asks.

“i don’t know, but i’m sorry. i did something that upset you last year, and i’m sorry. although i don’t know what it is, i apologize. i never wanted to upset you nor did i want us to stop being friends. i miss you adam,” you state.

“no, i’m sorry. i never gave you an explanation on why i got so mad, and i regret that. i miss you too. i got mad because i was jealous. you and jackson had only been dating a month, and it didn’t bother me until you ditched our annual dinner for him. i thought that you were gonna slowly drift from me towards him, so i got mad. it’s so stupid, but i guess it also helped me realize my feelings for you,” he shrugs. your breath hitches, and before you can even think, you lips crash against his.

at first he doesn’t kiss back, but he soon realizes and kisses back. he deepens it by putting a hand behind your head, and your hands find their way around his neck.

luca walks around the corner looking for you, and gasps. he scurries over to his mom, “mom! you won’t believe adam and y/n!”

she lets out an audible sigh, “are they fighting again?”

“worse! theyre kissing!” the older fantilli chuckles, looking at the reaction on both his parents and your mothers faces. at that moment, you and adam walk around the corner towards the bleachers, and see everyone looking at you two.

“well, we’re friends again,” you awkwardly chuckle, looking up at adam. everyone decides it’s best not to mention the kiss, and head towards the cars for the ritual post game ice cream. you and adam walk slowly behind everyone else, catching up on things.

“i’m surprised you came, i was wondering when you’d next show up to a game,”

“don’t feel special, my mom made me come,” you roll your eyes jokingly.

“mhm sure”

#adam fantilli blurb #adam fantilli imagine #adam fantilli #adam fantilli x reader #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #umich hockey #michigan hockey

[steddiealltheway]

Part Three to Meet Ugly (Ha, I named it... I think?). Part one. Part two. AO3 Link

Eddie sits on his kitchen counter staring at the fridge. Steve’s number blurs until Eddie blinks harshly, tears falling down his face. 

He scoffs, “I’m not going to cry about him.” He angrily wipes at his face, taking in deep breaths as more tears fall. He feels his bottom lip quivering and angrily hops off the counter, making his way to the phone. He glances back at the fridge and punches in the first two numbers and pauses. 

He can’t do this. It’s too soon. Besides, Steve doesn’t even know him; he can’t just call him during a breakdown. 

He thinks about his band members, specifically Gareth, but they had all voiced their harsh opinions on his relationship. None of them had met Brian, but that was reason enough to dislike him. If Eddie called any of them now, he would be met with an “I told you so,” which is exactly what he doesn’t need. 

He puts the phone back and stalks off to his room, collapsing in his bed. He turns to face where Steve was laying before and sees the handcuffs. Eddie will have to pick the lock on the other side to get them off his bed frame, but he can’t right now. 

He wants to call Steve desperately. The small period of time with him was more comforting than any point in his relationship with Brian in the past two years. 

Maybe it’s just a rebound type thing. He makes a connection with a guy that is attractive and kind and suddenly he’s calling it something more than it is. 

Eddie curls up on himself and tries to fight the spiraling episode he can feel himself diving head-first into. 

Two fucking years. 

Eddie thinks of all the shows he’s done that Brian never came to. The Thanksgivings he’s spent with his Uncle Wayne gushing about a guy who wouldn’t even show up. The key he gave Brian a year ago, expecting him to understand the grand gesture of moving in with him, but Brian had put off the move for an entire year. The holiday parties at Brian’s job where Eddie insisted, he would behave and say he was just Brian’s friend, but Brian would always argue that he didn’t want to take the risk.  

But he would promise that eventually – always eventually – he would be there. 

And Eddie believed him. That might be the worst part.  

Maybe the worst part was how oblivious he’s been this whole time. How long has he been cheating? And how many times has he used Eddie’s fucking bed? 

The thought makes him want to throw up and wash his sheets. Luckily, he washed them the day before, ironically enough because he wanted to have clean sheets after Brian came to see his show.  

But knowing that Steve was the stranger in his bed makes him feel more comfortable with putting it off until the next day.  

Eddie closes his eyes for a few moments then punches his pillow as soon as more questions about Brian flood his head. He opens his eyes and sees the handcuffs again. 

He reaches out and holds onto the end where Steve’s wrist used to be. He closes his eyes, imagining Steve could still be there, rambling on and making him forget his miseries.  

He’ll call tomorrow. 

-:-:-:-:-:- 

“Wakey wakey, baby.” 

Eddie groans hating how Brian always had the worst way of waking him up. 

Brian. 

Must’ve been a weird fucking dream. Eddie opens his eyes and spots the handcuffs on his headboard that he’s still somehow gripping onto. He sits up and wipes at his face, finding flakey tear residue embarrassingly down his face. 

Not a fucking dream.  

“Oh, baby, you don’t look too good, but I brought blueberry muffins,” Brian says holding up a bag.  

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Eddie asks, staying in his bed, hoping this is a nightmare. 

Brian shakes the bag as if to answer. Eddie stares at him. “Damn,” Brian laughs, “I thought you’d be able to move past yesterday’s incident but someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” 

“Get out.” 

Brian rolls his eyes. “Come on, let’s get some food in you while I explained what happened.” He wanders out towards the kitchen, and Eddie wishes more than anything that he had a bat near him. Instead, he stalks over to the closet and starts pulling out anything that Brian might own. 

“Baby, what are you doing? There are muffins in the kitchen,” Brian says as he comes back into Eddie’s room.  

Eddie starts throwing Brian’s items on the ground, moving on to his dresser and desk next. 

“Are you going to even let me explain?” Brian asks sounding clearly agitated. 

Eddie shakes his head in disbelief, ripping up a generic hallmark birthday card with the only personal thing written being “Love, Brian.” Eddie throws the scraps on the ground along with his other random items. “Explain what? How you’ve been using the key to my fucking apartment to trick random people into having sex with you.” 

“Oh, baby, is that what he told you?” 

Eddie turns and points a finger in Brian’s face. “Don’t fucking call me ‘baby.’” 

Brian pushes Eddie’s hand out of his face and explains, “Eds, he was lying to you. He approached me. Asked me if I could show him the ropes when it comes to hooking up with guys. And I took him back here because my roommate was home, and I showed him a few things. I never intended to sleep with him though, so it’s not even cheating.” 

Eddie’s heart drops to his stomach. “And how many guys did you so call ‘show them the ropes’?” 

“Only a few. Don’t worry, I never went far enough to need to get tested. Now come on, get your muffins. They’re your favorite.” 

Eddie searches Brian’s face, trying to find the person he thought he knew. 

“Fuck you,” Eddie says, “And get out of my fucking house.” 

Brian throws up his hands. “What’s fucking wrong with you, Eds?” 

“What’s wrong with me?” Eddie yells. He huffs out a humorless laugh. “Oh, I don’t know. I find out my boyfriend has been hooking up with people but doesn’t consider it cheating. Then I realize that he’s a fucking asshole and always has been. How have I never seen it?” Eddie stalks off to the kitchen, hands in his hair. “Now, I think it’s time you give me my fucking key and get the fuck out before I actually lose my shit,” Eddie warns him. 

“You don’t mean that,” Brian scoffs. 

Eddie holds out his hand not trusting himself to speak without yelling and straining his vocal cords.  

Brian finally starts tugging Eddie’s key off his keychain and drops in his hand. “Just for the record, I’m the best you’re ever gonna get sweetheart. Who the fuck is going to want you? You’re a nobody who thinks his awful band is going to make it somewhere. Don’t you know there’s a reason I never came to your performances or showed you off to my friends? It wasn’t because I was scared about how they would react to me being gay; it was because I didn’t want to be associated with a loser like you.” 

Eddie shakes his head, trying to ignore the pressure behind his eyes caused by elementary school type insults. He shoves the bag of muffins into Brian’s hand. “Take your fucking muffins. Blueberry were always your favorite. Never mine. While I’m at it...” Eddie trails off, going to the fridge and digging through for all the shit Brian stocked up there.  

Eddie lays random shit on his counter and slams the fridge door shut. He shoves it towards Brian but finds him staring off behind him. Eddie runs a hand over his face as he storms over to the kitchen cabinet where Brian’s coffee mug has been staying. He grabs it and turns around to hand it to Brian. 

But he isn’t where he was before. He’s by the fridge, staring at the number. 

“What’s this?” Brian asks. 

Eddie can’t answer. He can feel himself freeze. 

“He left you his number, didn’t he?” Brian questions then laughs. “You’re pathetic, you know? Let me do him a favor.”  

Brian reaches out and swipes his hand across the whiteboard, instantly erasing Steve’s number. 

Eddie’s heart drops and his blood runs cold. He raises the mug, and Brian’s eyes go wide before he bolts towards the front door. Eddie throws the mug, hearing it shatter as it makes contact with the door Brian just slammed shut. 

He runs over to the whiteboard and stares at the faint smear left. 

Eddie slowly sinks to the floor and buries his head in his hands, letting the tears flow. 

Part four

(Adding people who asked to be tagged. So sorry if I forgot anyone. Love you guys btw.

@gaysonthefloor @tinydragonhuman @micheledawn1975 @kerlypride @counting-dollars-counting-stars @yourebuckingkiddingme @ilovecupcakesandtea @cheyyyyyy @phantypurple @saramelaniemoon @xoxo--insanity @2btheanswertothequestion @connected-dots @vampireinthesun @yes-im-your-mom @redfreckledwolf @swoodoo @grtwdsmwhr @eddiethesexy @whomst-the-hell @lydi-cyan @teelagurl558 @omletlove @samcoxramblings @ineffablecolors @planetsoda @whimsicalwitchm @suikatto @mavernanche @cr0w-culture @steve-the-hairrington @zerokrox-blog @blue-little-silly-and-unsure @isabel-ffl-xoxo @staninggaycouples @lillemilly @thisisjaybaker @gobbledy-gluk-gluk @namelessssho @imnotsureiexist @sammararaven @funnymagicman-named-dandy @sketchy-scribs-n-doods @freddykicksasses @stardustonpages @funsizearsonist @unclewaynemunson @igotloki @mrbutchdyke @multifandomnerds-stuff )

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #I swear there is a part four coming #Sometimes I write like I'm in middle school again #but i hope you enjoy

[starry-hughes]

ugly christmas sweaters (mark estapa)

day 4 of star’s ficmas event!

dakota x mark estapa (au)

Dakota was still nervous to be around all of Mark’s friends. The two had only officially been dating since October. The most of his friends saw her was at her work, the local bar they frequented on weekends they didn’t have games. The last time anyone saw her was when she showed up for a brief five minutes during the team Thanksgiving dinner to drop Mark off some tupperware he left at her place. 

“You working on Saturday?” Mark questioned. “No, not with finals next week.” 

“Come to a party with me, at my place?” 

Dakota hadn’t really gone to a party since before meeting Mark. The first time the two met, Dakota tumbled into him and spilled her drink down his shirt on accident. She poured herself into school work and the rest of her time was spent at work. “I don’t know Mark, I have a finals and case law to review,” Dakota sighed, being a legal studies major with an interest in environmental law wasn’t easy sometimes. “God you’re so hot when you talk all lawyer,” he mumbled, attempting to seduce his girlfriend. 

Mark didn’t bring up the idea of the party until the day before the party when she let him into her studio apartment. “Here’s your sweater for the party,” he grinned. “The party?” With finals close by, she was distracted and completely forgot about the party. “Tomorrow night’s party. Remember? I know you have been studying hard and you need a break babe.” 

Dakota unraveled the sweater from the bag, an over-the-top ugly Christmas sweater, topped off with a way to turn on the lights on the sweater. “I have a matching one,” Mark said proudly. Dakota tried to hide the fact that she didn’t exactly love the sweater. “It’s supposed to be ugly! That’s the theme! And Ethan is making all the spiked egg nog. Please just come baby. You can spend the night at my place.” 

She gave in, nodding, “Fine, but only because I need a break.” 

Mark and Dakota were at the house before the party started, Dakota was getting some last minute studying in while Mark napped. When the two descended down the stairs, wearing their matching sweaters, the whole Michigan hockey team was already there. Dakota swore that she had never seen so many ugly sweaters in one room. 

The party was in full swing soon after that. “Where’s your other half?” Dylan Duke teased as Dakota filled two cups with Ethan’s overly alcoholic egg nog. “I think he’s singing Christmas karaoke,” she giggled, her cheeks tinted pink from the amount of alcohol she consumed so far. 

Mark’s face lit up when he laid eyes on his girlfriend again, shoving Luca Fantilli out of the way as he drunkenly clamored over to Dakota. “I missed you!” He snatched the cup of alochol from her hand and drunkenly placed a sloppy, wet kiss on her cheek. “I was gone for two minutes Mark,” she chuckled. “I know, but I missed you still.” He took his girlfriend out back, where some of the guys were playing Stump. “I can’t believe you let these boys have a hammer when drunk,” Dakota hummed, leaning into his side. “No one has gotten hurt yet.” 

Dakota heard the backdoor open, snickering and shuffling behind her but she didn’t pay any attention to it. “It’s cold Mark, can we go inside?” she whined. “Yes baby, let’s go.” 

Mark led his girlfriend toward the door and quickly realized why there was laughter just a bit ago. “Babe, wait, the boys put up mistletoe in the doorway.” Dakota smiled up at the plant, probably ripped off the headband Ethan had been wearing earlier in the night. Dakota pulled him in for a kiss, letting her (cold) hand slip up his sweater and rest on his side. Mark almost giggled, the idea of him kissing his girlfriend on the porch, wearing matching Christmas sweaters, drunk on spiked egg nog was something he never would have imagined happening. 

#dakota and mark #star’s ficmas #mark estapa imagine #mark estapa blurb #mark estapa #mark estapa x reader #mark estapa fic #umich hockey imagine #umich imagine

[strangermarvelss]

the pain of letting you go- e.m (pt 10)

Pairing: Ex!Eddie Munson x Ex!AFAB!Reader

Summary: eddie has a solo therapy session and a sit down talk with wayne about everything that’s been going on

Warnings: angst, eddie pov, mentions of past trauma and abuse (please don’t read if the topic is sensitive for you), crying, eddie having a breakthrough, wayne being the g.o.a.t and talking some sense into his nephew, cliffhanger ending

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: part ten of the series is here! can’t believe it’s almost done, it feels unreal. thank you to everyone for the continued support! reminder: if the topic is sensitive for you, please do not read. also, my two years of taking psychology in high school really came to play in this chapter, so if it doesn't make all kinds of sense, be gentle with my fuzzy brain recollection ! one last thing: eddie's backstory might sound a lot like billy's but that's just how i think it would be in this series! enjoy! :) -sava

series masterlist

“Do you want to start by telling me what brings you here today?” The lady in front of him asks, her notepad open and a pen situated between her index finger and thumb. Eddie shifts, readjusting his sitting position on the stiff couch in the spacious office as he looks back at the therapist in front of him.

He did exactly what he said he would. He got home that day that Christopher got in the fight and dialed Jonathan Byers’s home number, asking for the name and number of the therapist he and Will used to see back in Hawkins when their parents were getting their divorce. He thanked the man and hung up, quickly dialing the number Jonathan provided and made the first available appoint for the Monday after Thanksgiving, thanks to a recent cancellation. 

Everything he said that day was true, he wanted to make it up to you and he would put the work in for that to happen. He spent the holiday alone, except for the breakfast he had with Wayne before he went back to bed to prepare for his shift at the plant that night. He mentioned wanting to talk with the boy, concerned about his lack of Thanksgiving plans. Eddie hadn’t really kept Wayne in the loop with everything that has happened between you and him, not wanting his uncle to look at him differently for acting so stupid. He was already beating himself up over the situation, he didn’t need more people he loved to turn against him.

“I’ve been an idiot lately,” he tells her simply, crossing his arms in front of him, putting a barrier between his heart and the unfamiliar woman. She smiles a little, looking at her notes before turning back to him.

“Happens to the best of us sometimes. Care to elaborate?” She questions, raising a brow. Eddie lets out a sigh, before opening his mouth to speak once more.

“I asked my wife for a separation, for a really stupid reason, and now that we’re not together anymore, I-I feel nothing but regret and I just want her back,” he explains.

She takes a moment to write in her notebook, before turning back to Eddie. She examines him for a moment, looking him over and Eddie squirms under her intense stare. Therapy was new territory for him. He often wondered how much better his life could’ve been if he attended regularly as a kid, but with money being tight and his asshole father not seeing the point, it was never a solid option. He probably could’ve saved himself a lot of heartache and trouble if he had a healthy outlet to express himself like this, really talking about his problems instead of blasting music and getting high to forget all the troubles the universe threw his way.

“This ‘stupid’ reason you said…what exactly was it? What led you to want to separate from your wife?” She inquires. Another sigh leaves Eddie’s lips as he braces for judgement.

“I-I’m in a band, called Corroded Coffin. I have this bandmate, his name’s Gareth. He made some silly joke about my rockstar image being ‘tainted’ because I’m married to the only girl I’ve ever dated and been with sexually, and already have a kid. Like I said, it’s really stupid, but, I guess I just…let it get to me.”

“And why do you think that is?”

“Why do you keep asking why?” Eddie snaps a little, already getting a little irritated. “I thought you were supposed to tell me all that. Tell me what’s wrong with me so I can go and make shit better.”

“We have to work through it to get to the root of the problem, first. Together,” she answers him, sending him a sweet smile. He huffs, pressing himself further into the uncomfortable couch. “Now, is what your friend Gareth said true? That you’ve only been with one girl your whole life?”

“Yeah, it is. No one ever looked at me that way before Y/N and I started dating, and it just felt right. Then she got pregnant, and we got married after she graduated,” Eddie explains a bit. 

“Did you feel like you married Y/N out of obligation? Because you got her pregnant?”

He takes a moment to think. To reflect on the entire 8 years you spent together in a romantic relationship, and the years before that you spent as friends. He always loved spending time with you, whether you were friends or more than that. He remembers the time he realized he had feelings for you:

The summer of 1982 was hotter than you both wanted it be, even at night. You and Eddie were hanging out in his trailer, listening to his Black Sabbath album ‘Mob Rules’, blasting it with the windows wide open for the whole trailer park to hear. You both were on your third beer of the night, not wanting to celebrate the Fourth of July at the annual fair Hawkins threw every year thanks to Mayor Kline, but instead just having a relaxing night in the trailer, which is why it was okay for you both to blast the music after quiet hours began.

You were both laughing at some silly joke you said about his neighbor’s cat, the alcohol evident in your system and the fuzziness swirling around in both of your brains making any and every thing sound like the best joke in the world. He noticed how sweet your laughter was, and the way your nose crinkled when you giggled at his jokes, your lips curling into the brightest smile he’s ever seen and how you tilt your head back when you found something particularly funny. 

The butterflies were beginning to swirl in his stomach when you flopped on the bed next to him, laughing so hard he thought you’d pee all over his bed and stain it further, since you’d already gone several times that night thanks to the alcohol in your system. He thought he could just laugh at hearing your laugh for the rest of his life, seeing the bright twinkle in your eye when he turned towards you and heat spreading to his cheeks thanks to the staring. 

The laughter died down, the two of you looking at each other with soft eyes and reaching for each other. He grabbed your arm, running his ring clad hand up and down your soft skin, and you went to brush his growing mane out of his face. He felt his heart beating so fast in his chest, thinking it might pop out of him and explode all over your pretty outfit, which was a low cut tank top and high waisted shorts due to the heat, not that Eddie was complaining. 

It felt sudden when you pressed your lips to his, but he didn’t care all that much as he quickly melted into your touch, bringing the hand that was once rubbing up and down your arm to cup your face gently. The two of you had been friends for a while, but it wasn’t weird to be kissing in that moment. The heat that was created between the two of you as your lips moved against each other felt so nice and comforting. Like it was bound to happen any day. Like Eddie always said: It just felt right.

“No, I didn’t feel like I needed to marry her out of obligation. Her parents maybe think that, since they kept hinting towards it throughout the pregnancy, but I didn’t feel pressured by them or her. I did it because I wanted to,” he finally answers the woman before him. She nods at his answer and quickly scribbles something in her notebook again.

“And why did you want to? Think back at how you felt around that time in your life. What made you decide you wanted to spend the rest of your life with her in the first place?” 

“Being with her made me feel truly happy for the first time in my life. I had a shit childhood and everyone bullied me up until I graduated at my third attempt at a senior year, but whenever we were together, even before we were dating, it felt like I didn’t have to worry about ever being unhappy. I just felt-I felt like maybe life didn’t have to suck as much as I used to think it did.”

“Good, that’s good. I think we’re starting to get somewhere. Can you talk to me more about your childhood?” The therapist asks, readjusting her position in the chair in front of him, crossing a leg above her knee and readjusting her notepad. Eddie’s breath hitches for a moment, swallowing it down quickly after. He never reveled in the details about his childhood too often. The last time he had to was some comment Christopher made about a family tree he had to make for school, and he had asked about where his mother and father were and why he only had one set of grandparents he went to visit during the holidays. It wasn’t a lengthy conversation between him and his son, not like it was when he told you all those years ago. He wanted to save that story for when Chris was significantly older. Please, it all still felt very fresh, as if it was happening yesterday.

“Um, yeah…yeah I can. My mom, she was the sweetest woman. Always did her best to care for me a provide some kind of normal childhood with what little we had. But my dad…he was a total prick. An angry drunk who used to beat us every time we breathed wrong. He and my mom would fight a lot, arguing about money and other pointless shit in the end. But it always ended in him ‘winning’, getting a few too many smacks in and taking it out on me when I would try to defend her,” Eddie begins, his hands clasped in front of him as he leans forward on his knees, one leg bouncing uncontrollably as he speaks.

“One day, thinks got a little too heated between the two of them because he lost his job at the body shop he worked at, being drunk on the clock and all. They got into a screaming match, apparently, because money was becoming tighter and tighter, and when he lost his job, my mom was the only one with a stable income coming in. He…he hit her. No, not hit. He punched her. He was going at her and just hurting her worse than he ever had. She ended up in the hospital, broken ribs and eye swollen shut, but panicking about how much it would cost her instead of worrying about her injuries. But she figured it out and once she was better, she left Hawkins. S-she promised she’d come back and get me, and we’d go live in a city together where we didn’t have to deal with that asshole, but after two months of getting the brunt of all his anger about it, I lost hope. Then six months after she left, my dad got locked up and I was put in my Uncle Wayne’s care.”

She nods at his words, taking in all the information spilled at her in such a short amount of time as she writes faster than Eddie thought anyone could. Eddie’s chest feels tight as his mind brings him back to his past. The pain from his father’s fists and the smacking sound he’d create against his chubby pre-teen face still fresh and the exact reason he was so worried when Christopher got into a fight at school. Sure, Eddie knew how to defend himself against bullies when the time called for it, but he tried to not get physical when he felt the need to get violent. The fight with his son, plus the smack you landed on his face when he was being a jealous dickhead about Steve, took him back to the small house he lived in on the outskirts of Hawkins with his father’s harsh words ringing in his ears and horrible actions making his skin sting.

“Do you ever find yourself running away from conflict, Eddie?” The therapist asks, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

“Um…yeah, I guess sometimes I do. But Y/N and I didn’t have any conflict when I asked for the separation, it was because of what Gareth said,” he replies. She hums to herself, raising her eyebrows a bit a shaking her head.

“But what if it was something deeper than that?” She ponders.

“What do you mean?”

She closes the notebook momentarily, setting it on the side table closest to her chair and clasping her hands in front of her. “What if you had a deeper reasoning, something that didn’t click into place until your friend said the joke. Eddie, with all the stuff you just told me, it sounds like the abandonment your mother caused you to feel could have something to do with this, as well as a bit of self sabotage.”

The abandonment was spot on, with the grudge he still held for his mother for leaving him in the hands of an abusive piece-of-shit still very present. But self sabotage? What on earth could he have been sabotaging? And for what reason?

“I’m going to need you to elaborate further, doc,” he pleads.

“Well, you said you never felt truly happy until you were with Y/N. Things were going good between you, so there could’ve been a small part of you just waiting for things to get bad again. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. So instead of you going through any sort of pain on the receiving end, you initiated the bad stuff before it could happen to you. And running away similar to how your mother did, but not exactly the same,” she explains to him. 

Eddie feels as if a lightbulb went off over his head as he listens to what she says. It all makes sense, because there was always a small part of him that told him he never deserved anything good in his life, words his father would spew at him continuing to stay with him many years later. He finally felt happy and let his head overthink that, not truly being able to soak up the feeling and throwing away the best thing he’s ever witnessed in his life. The words the therapist said, mixed with the insecurity of his lack of experience, all made Eddie feel semi-better about knowing what exactly led him to acting so stupid.

As happy as he was to get to the root of the problem, he felt like even more of an idiot for doing so and putting you through the shit that was going on with him. What if he managed to get this kind of help earlier, before acting on Gareth’s words and being a mini manwhore? What if he just talked about how he was feeling instead of keeping it to himself and letting you suffer in the process?

“That actually makes a lot of sense doc…thank you,” he breathes out.

“That’s why I’m here. I think we’ve made some great progress for today, and I’d like to try and see you once more before your family session coming up in a couple of weeks. Talk to the receptionist out front and see where they can squeeze you in,” the therapist says, standing from her chair and extending her hand to him. He shakes it as he stands himself, digging his hands in his pocket before walking out of the room and out into the lobby where the front desk is located.

—————————————————————————���———————————————

Staring at Wayne’s truck in the driveway, Eddie takes a deep breath before turning the engine to his van off. Exiting the vehicle, he takes the few steps until he reaches the porch, climbing the stairs and walking in the front door. Wayne’s figure is relaxing in his recliner, feet extended as he watches a show on the tiny television. He meets his nephews eyes, Eddie giving him a shy wave before setting his keys on the kitchen counter.

“Hey boy,” Wayne greets him, pushing the recliner back into the regular sitting position and standing. He walks over towards the kitchen, his arms extending and wrapping around his nephew quickly. “How’ve you been boy?”

Eddie shakes his head, laughing a little as he looks to the floor. “Not good Uncle Wayne. Pretty far from being okay, if I'm being honest”

“C’mere son, lets sit down and talk,” he gestures towards the kitchen table, the two chairs already situated a bit for people to just slide it, the two men having a habit of not pushing them in. Eddie sits down, wringing his hands together as he rests the against the table. Wayne slides in, taking a sip of his drink as he looks at his nephew. “Tell me what’s been going on with you and Y/N.”

Eddie’s eyes shoot up to meet Wayne's, panic in his face hearing his uncle say the words. Wayne hated gossip, so there was no way someone else managed to tell him the situation before he did, right?l

“How did you-“

“Now you know as well as I do how fast word travels in this damn town. I may not like to gossip, but my ears do perk up when they’re talking about my nephew. I would’ve liked to hear it from you though, so talk to me son,” he explains, cutting the younger man off. 

“M’sorry Wayne, I just didn’t want you to be mad at me and be disappointed in me. I've already put you through enough shit...I-I just didn't want to add onto that,” Eddie admits, hanging his head low in shame, staring at the wooden table and tracing the cravings he did years ago with his fingertips.

“Eddie I could never be disappointed in you, and I mean that.”

“Thanks Wayne, I appreciate that,” he pauses, continuing to trace the carvings. “I really screwed things up with Y/N. I got in my head and let her go…and now I feel horrible. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done, and you know me, it says a lot.”

“Yeah son, I do know you. And you’re right, that is the worst thing you’ve ever done,” Wayne tells him. Eddie’s eyes widen, staring at his uncle crazily, a breathy laugh leaving his lips. “No, Eddie, I’m serious. I’ve seen how that girl has changed your life for the better, and leaving her like that was just cruel. She and that boy of yours love you so much, but I can’t for the life of me understand why you did it, because I know how crazy you are about her. So what the hell?”

Eddie frowns, hearing the disappointment in his uncle’s voice. He knew how stupid it was letting the one person other than Wayne who has ever treated him with any kind of love that he deserved go like he did, trading the simple family life for the rockstar life he’s always dreamed of. But now that he had that rockstar life, he hated what he gave up in order to have it. Losing you and your son wasn’t worth all the potential record deals and never having to worry about money again. 

“I know Wayne…I know I messed up. But I’m trying to do better-I am going to do better. I just came back from a therapy session, and we’re going to go as a family so I can see just how much this has effected them and see what I can do to be good to them. I want to be back in their lives and come home to my family every night and tuck my son in without him hating me. I want to lay in bed with my wife at night and hear all about her day and hold her in my arms as we fall asleep, then wake up and do it all over again. I never thought that’d be something I could want, much less have, but now that it’s almost out of my grasp?” Eddie stops, feeling the tears fall down his pale cheeks as he tries his best to compose himself in front of his uncle, turning away and rubbing his eyes with his thumb.

He keeps the sobs to himself, not wanting to look more pathetic than he already felt. He knew it was stupid to cry over his own mistakes, but it just showed how much he cared for you and Christopher. He loves you both so much, and despite everything, he wants nothing but happiness for the both of you, whether that includes him in your lives or not. 

Wayne stands from his chair, walking over and taking Eddie’s figure in his own, wrapping his arms around the boy’s shoulder and holding Eddie’s head close to his figure with his free hand. Eddie immediately hugs him back, his face burying into one of Wayne’s legs as he turns his head to the side, looking out at the living room before closing his eyes once more, fresh tears spilling over the edge.

“I don’t want to lose them, Wayne. I can’t,” Eddie mumbles out. Wayne nods, patting his nephew’s head as he tries to soothe him. 

“I know boy, I know. But you have to keep putting in the work. I know you love them, and they still love you, I can see it when I see Y/N around town sometimes with the way she still manages to flash me a smile. So go and be a better man for them, the husband and father they need you to be and get your head out of your ass,” Wayne says.

Eddie smiles a little, pulling away from his uncle and rubbing his tears on his sleeve. He was going to do whatever you needed him to in order to be on good terms again. He knew things wouldn’t magically heal over night and that he’d be welcomed back to his home with open arms next time you saw both of them, so he would wait as long as he needs for you to be ready and let him back into your life. 

That is, if you still really wanted him there.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things angst #fanfic #fanfiction #angst #uncle wayne #wayne munson #the pain of letting you go #strangermarvelss

[lovelywhiteroses]

Happy holiday maybe a short drabble about Ray or Haley from binary star Mc is making ornaments for them.

🤭

✨🌹 Of course dear anon. But how about I do both! 🌹✨

Ray

Ray never spent the holidays with anyone before. He’s always spent them alone. But ever since you and him got together he’s been able to experience what it’s like celebrating with someone. Halloween, thanksgiving, now Christmas. With thanksgiving over, now comes Christmas. One day he when coming back from work he noticed that everything was quiet. He was a bit fearful that something might have happened to you or worse. Until he saw you hyper focused on something. “Star?” You jumped a bit. You really need to learn when to keep your guard up. Especially since double was still on the lose. “Oh it’s only you you scared me there. How was work?” Ray shrugged and walked over. “The usual, just doing the NAHA’s dirty work and being the ‘hero’ everyone so loves.” He then noticed the two see through ornaments you had. One already looked halfway finished, meanwhile the other wasn’t. “What have you been up to?” You smiled and showed what you’ve done so far. “I’ve had this idea for awhile, and I’ve done this with my family before so it’s no problem. Im making an ornament for the soon to be Christmas tree to be put up.” You give him a playful shove. Causing him to chuckle a bit. “I see. But you haven’t gotten started on the other one yet. I believe you still got a long ways to go.” That’s when he noticed you laugh a bit. He was a bit confused at why you laughed. “Ray, that one is for you to decorate.” Ray felt a bit embarrassed but was quick to regain his composure. “Me? I’ve never really decorated an ornament, I’ve never really have the time.” He picked up the ornament and sat next to you. “Well then hopefully you have time now, Don’t you?” You hand him a marker so he could write something on it. He sighs and looks at you with a genuine smile. “Of course star. As long as it’s with you.” He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek, making you flustered but still able to help out a bit. After awhile of giving him some tips along with a bit of messing around with small talk and jokes, you finished his and you finally finished yours. “Here I’ll clean up the mess. You did great Ray. Not bad for an old man.” You smiled, as Ray turned to you a bit stunned but at this point he’s used to it. “Wow star you really know how to make me feel speechless huh?” You laughed to yourself while cleaning up a bit while Ray put the two ornaments away, though plastic he seems to treat them as if they were glass. “But I do got to say this was actually very nice. Thank you star.” He said walking over to help clean up a bit. You couldn’t help but smile, you liked making him smile even if it was from the little things, you can’t help but feel that this Christmas was gonna be special for you and him this year.

Haley

Hal was always a person who was a nice person to talk to for you. And when asked to spend some time with them in their spare time they’re always down for it. You and Hal were now currently together. Miles was always teasing you both even doing the classic song of sitting in a tree. But you didn’t mind. You two decided to take things slow. You did have Halloween and thanksgiving together along with miles, but you wanted to try something for Christmas. That’s when you got the idea to make ornaments. You decided to get three one for you, miles, and Hal. “Alright what are you planning?” You took Hal’s hand and just smiled. “It’s a surprise! There’s no point if I just tell you.” Hal just laughed as you pulled them in the room where miles is already starting to decorate his ornament. “Oh hey Haley!” Miles said as he looked up for a moment and back to his ornament. “What all this?” You picked up they’re ornament and handed it to them. “I wanted to do something special this year since I’m gonna be with you this year.” You said while you felt your face heat up while you told them. Hal’s face turned a bit pick. They obviously felt flattered that you considered this special with them. “If your not gonna do yours Hal I can always do it!” Miles said as he was still making his ornament. It was obvious it was hero themed. You both laughed and Hal and you sat down and made your ornaments. Though Hal was a thief they weren’t the best at making ornaments. But it was still beautiful in your eyes. When all three of you were done you brought out a small tree and Hal laughed at how much you’ve planned this out, meanwhile miles was extremely excited. You all put your ornaments on the little tree. Though it wasn’t a big one. You know that it was special. Hal knew it to. They run their hand through their short hair, and smiled at you. “Thanks I really enjoyed this time together.” You smiled at Hal as you felt your face heat up again. “My ornament looks awesome doesn’t it?” You and Hal laughed. “Yep it sure does miles.” You responded back. Yep! This year was definitely gonna be more special this year.

✨🌹Hopefully this was to your liking dear anon. Have a happy thanksgiving and a happy holiday.🌹✨

#binary star hero vn #binarystarhero #binary star hero

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

North To The Future [Chapter 3: Everlong]

The year is 1999. You are just beginning your veterinary practice in Juneau, Alaska. Aegon is a mysterious, troubled newcomer to town. You kind of hate him. You are also kind of obsessed with him. Falling for him might legitimately ruin your life…but can you help it? Oh, and there’s a serial killer on the loose known only as the Ice Fisher.

A/N: I hope you are all having a magical holiday season!! My birthday is Dec. 24th so I’m always extra excited for this time of year. 🎅🎄☃️🍾🎁🥳

Chapter warnings: Language, alcoholism, addiction, murder, boy bands, and discussions of sex. Do you know that Tom Glynn-Carney is the lead singer of an alt-folk-rock band called Sleep Walking Animals?? I do and it’s ruining my life!!

Word count: 5k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @elsolario @meadowofsinfulthoughts @ladylannisterxo @doingfondue @tclegane @quartzs-posts @liathelioness @aemcndtargaryen @thelittleswanao3 @burningcoffeetimetravel @b1gb3anz @hinata7346 @poohxlove​ @borikenlove​ @myspotofcraziness​ @travelingmypassion​ @graykageyama​ @skythighs​ @lauraneedstochill​ @darlingimafangirl​ @charenlie​ @thewew​ 

Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💜

“Dad, do you have an extra parka that I could borrow? Like, permanently?”

He furrows his brow at you as he scrapes his plate clean with a fork: meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, peas, Rice-A-Roni. He’s curious; he’s concerned. “Yeah, ladybug, sure. Why?”

“I have a friend who needs one.”

“You’re going out again tonight?” your mom inquires, cautiously optimistic. She slathers her roll with I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter. It’s Thursday, and exactly one week before Thanksgiving.

“Twice in two days!” your dad says. “I’m proud. I’m very proud. You work too much, you know. Which friend is it? What size is she?”

“He,” you correct.

Your mom’s butterknife abruptly stills. “He?”

Your dad is grinning. “Uh oh,” he says.

“He’s a friend,” you reiterate. “And he’s new to Alaska and not properly equipped. That’s it.”

“Is this friend married?” your mom asks.

Great question! No one knows! “Probably not, Mom.”

“Is this friend sexy?” your dad says, then he and your mom bust out laughing. You wait patiently for them to tire themselves out. “Okay, how big is he? Around Trent’s size?”

“Smaller.”

“Let me see what I have…” He lumbers down the hallway towards your parents’ bedroom and reappears moments later with a black L.L.Bean parka. He hands it to you. “Here, this should work. It fit me fifty pounds ago, so it should be nice and roomy on your sexy friend.”

“Your sexy single friend,” your mom amends.

“You’re the worst,” you tell both of them, smiling. “You will rue this day once I reveal myself to be the Ice Fisher and claim you as my final victims.”

Your mom shudders, but your dad chuckles and pats your shoulder three times. That’s how he says I love you. He hasn’t been your dad your whole life, only for about as much of it as you can remember. When you were born, your mom was married to a man named Jesse. He was charismatic and clever and talented and, from what you can gather, a lifelong addict. There was some untold amount of suffering that your mom endured and then one February morning when you were five years old, Jesse washed up on the shore of the Gastineau Channel. This is not something that you carry around as a tragedy—you barely remember anything about Jesse, and you and your mom are surely better off without him—but you do carry it. It is a sort of ancestral memory that travels with you like a suitcase. When you enter a room, you can tuck it away for a while, store it in a closet or under a couch; but when you leave that room, the suitcase always leaves with you. There’s a box full of Jesse’s old journals up in the attic. No one ever reads them, your mom won’t even acknowledge them; but perhaps getting rid of those journals would be like throwing out the best parts of the man she once believed was her soulmate, the parts that he drowned in vodka and Valium and heroin. Perhaps it would be like killing him all over again.

Your dad says: “Have fun tonight, ladybug.”

“Yes,” your mom murmurs, gazing down into her cup of tea, cloudy like the Juneau sky; it clears so rarely you can hardly ever see the Northern Lights. “But don’t go anywhere alone.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“He said what?!” Heather gasps.

“That he likes me. That he really likes me.” You’re in Heather’s usual booth at Ursa Minor. She has a Sex On The Beach; you’re restlessly spinning a blackberry Bacardi Breezer between your palms. The parka your dad gave you is squished beside you in the booth. For reasons that remain unclear to you, Trent and his friends are—loudly, annoyingly, howling out peals of laughter like hyenas—assembling a drumkit in one corner of the room. Aegon has yet to appear. The Christmas lights glow like stars. The staircase that leads up to the rooftop patio—only really useable three or four months out of the year—is adorned with sprigs of holly.

“And what did you say back?!”

You wave your hands around helplessly. “I don’t know, I just…kind of…like…left.”

“You left,” Heather says flatly. “You actually met a guy that you are into—a miracle! water into wine! loaves and fishes!—and you have this completely deranged romantic moment in a Taco Bell, and then you follow him back to his apartment where he lets you pet his adorable golden retriever and admits that he likes you, and then you…leave?!”

“Yes. Exactly.”

“What is wrong with you?” Heather says. “Did you party a little too hard in vet school? Blackout a lot? Are your remaining brain cells lonely? Are your parents first cousins?”

“Look, I have reasons.”

“Let’s hear them. Wait.” She takes a sip of her Sex On The Beach, ruminative. “You, being the sensible and risk-averse person that you are, don’t want to gamble on falling madly in love with some maybe-murderer glorified homeless man who could pack his figurative bags and disappear tomorrow.”

“That’s some of it. Not all of it.”

“What’s the rest?”

You shrug, drinking your Bacardi Breezer, pretending to be distracted by the other Ursa Minor patrons. Kimmie is at the bar flirting with some barely-twenty-one college student who’s wearing a University of Alaska Southeast hoodie. Trent is hooting as he wallops his friend Rob with a pair of drumsticks. Shania Twain’s Honey, I’m Home drifts pluckily from the stereo.

Heather bangs her Sex On The Beach against the table like a judge’s gavel. “The rest?”

You sigh and confess in a vanquished rush. “If nothing happens, then I can always comfort myself with the thought that the sex might have been terrible anyway. Maybe he would have passed out halfway through. Maybe he’s never heard of the clitoris. But if I sleep with him and it just so happens to be earth-shatteringly amazing, then…”

“Then it’ll hurt that much worse when he leaves.”

“Right. I’ll be like a traumatized Vietnam veteran. I’ll never be free of those flashbacks.”

Heather’s eyes are kind, sympathetic, twinkling with the reflections of Christmas lights. “My good bitch, this is a clusterfuck.”

“I’m not disagreeing.”

“You really don’t know anything about him? Hometown, family, ex-wives, credit score, criminal record, horoscope sign…?”

“No,” you say. “I think he might be from Miami. And that’s literally all I’ve got.”

“If only there was some way to instantly uncover a person’s entire personal history and social life.” Heather slurps down her Sex On The Beach until there’s nothing left in the tall glass but clinking cubes of ice. “There’s this thing called Google, I saw it on 60 Minutes. But no one around here has internet. Not in their houses, anyway. Like, maybe the Wells Fargo office has internet, but I don’t think they’d let you use it to research the slutty rando boozer who just slinked into town.”

The metal bells on the front door jangle. You turn—too quickly, too eagerly—to see who enters. It’s not Aegon; it’s Joyce. She stops by the bar to get a can of Surge and then slides into the booth beside you, lifting her book out of her purse and laying it on the table. Across the room, a cackling Trent drops a cymbal on the floor and thus attracts the judgmental stares of everyone in Ursa Minor. Dale, looking tired and irritable, scowls at him as he pops open a fresh Miller Lite for Kimmie.

“Hey,” Joyce says, then is promptly absorbed into the fantastical world of the half-naked, horse-riding man on the front cover of her book.

“You need to find out if Aegon’s a Gemini,” Heather tells you. “That would be absolutely disqualifying. Two weeks spent dating a Gemini and you won’t need the Ice Fisher to end it all, you’ll be ready to strangle yourself with your bare hands.”

“Yeah, totally, I’ll get right on that. Um, what is Trent doing?”

Heather rolls her eyes. “His band is performing tonight.”

“His band? Trent has a band?”

“He has something that he alleges is a band. Dale agreed to let them have their highly anticipated world premier here tonight. I think he’s regretting it already.”

The electric guitar. The electric guitar in Aegon’s apartment. “Who’s in this band?”

“I’ll be honest with you, I didn’t care enough to ask any follow-up questions.”

“Huh.” You watch Trent and his friends as they finish setting up the drumkit, the amps, two microphone stands. Trent spies you and waves, beaming. You wave back halfheartedly.

Like a storm, like a meteor, Aegon crashes through the front door and slams it shut behind him, engulfed in a whirlwind of frigid arctic air. The bells jingle shrilly. He’s wearing a black and white striped long-sleeve shirt, ripped jeans, and his battered jade green electric guitar. His white-blond hair is in disarray. There’s snow all over his Doc Martens combat boots. His eyes scan the room, settle on you, stay there. He smiles knowingly, mischievously. And then he goes to join the rest of the band.

“Oh no,” Heather says. “Oh God. Oh no. He’s hot. Look, Joyce, look. He’s hot.”

Joyce glances up briefly. “He’s okay.”

“He’s hot,” Heather moans. Trent greets Aegon with a fist bump and a bear hug. Rob, even-keeled and stocky and hoisting on his bass guitar, gives him a placid nod. Heather reaches across the table to seize your hand. “Come on. I want front row seats to your willpower’s funeral.”

There is a crowd gathering: you and Heather and Kimmie, Trent’s gang of friends, assorted locals, even Joyce wanders over with her ring finger keeping her spot in her book, as if she might lose interest in these peculiar real-world happenings at any moment and need to retreat back into the oasis of fiction. Trent plops down behind the drumkit and gives the toms a few experimental whacks with his drumsticks. Rob warms up too, plucking at the strings of his bass guitar with his sturdy fingers. Aegon plugs in his guitar and tunes it, a bright green pick between his teeth. Satisfied, he grabs the pick and takes his place at the forefront microphone stand.

“Check one, check two,” he says, tapping the mic. “How’s everyone doing tonight?”

There are tepid claps and whistles. Kimmie squeals enthusiastically. Aegon doesn’t seem to notice her. His eyes—a deep and calm blue, not steely or translucent, not icy or sharp—flit to you. You react before you can think too much, before you can troubleshoot or veto it. You mouth: You look great. Aegon grins, toothy and effervescent.

“Dear lord, that was quick,” Heather mumbles.

“Anyone in the mood for an appletini?” Aegon says, then laughs as the crowd roils with confusion.

“What the hell’s an appletini?” a cantankerous middle-aged logger asks his wife.

“Tonight we have a very special cover for you folks,” Aegon announces. “If I don’t know you already, my name is Aegon and I’m here with my good friends Rob and Trent. It’s the first-ever public performance for our little band, which we’ve named Boat #27 after the commercial fishing vessel we were destined by fate to meet on.” He strums his guitar once. The notes ring out rough, powerful, magnificent. “Special thanks to Ursa Minor owner Dale for making this possible and for letting me have like eighty rum and Cokes on my tab. Alright, let’s roll.”

Aegon begins playing, and it takes you a few seconds to recognize the opening chords: it’s Everlong by the Foo Fighters. The bass and drums join in. Rob is self-composed, so unpretentious you could forget he’s there. Trent assaults the drums with a childish, frenetic sort of energy. Aegon’s fingers move artfully across his electric guitar’s fretboard, confident and nimble.

Heather informs you, regretfully, as if it’s catastrophic news from halfway around the planet, an earthquake or a famine or a hurricane: “I think he knows his way around a clitoris.”

“Goddammit,” you whimper miserably.

“Hello, I’ve waited here for you, everlong…”

In this moment, Aegon sounds very much like a rockstar. He looks like one too: hair shagging in his eyes, combat boots stomping, face flushed and halfway between euphoria and agony. There’s black eyeliner smudged around his eyes and glitter on his cheekbones. He mostly keeps his eyes closed or faraway as he sings, but there’s one line when his gaze finds yours and locks there.

“Breathe out, so I can breathe you in, hold you in…”

“Oh snap,” Heather says. “Do you think you should take a pregnancy test after that?”

“Please shut up.”

“Look, I can read palms too.” She grabs your hand. “I see many Cobainbies in your future.”

When the song ends, the bar erupts into cheers, more convincing this time. Even Dale claps. “Thank you, thank you,” Aegon says. “Have a great rest of your night. We’ll be back soon, I promise.” He unslings his guitar, sets it on top of one of the amps, and begins walking over to you. Kimmie intercepts him, yammering at lightspeed and asking about his jade green guitar, his favorite bands, his boots, his hair. Trent finds you instead.

“Hey,” Trent says exuberantly.

“Hi,” you reply. “Awesome show tonight.”

Heather adds: “Yeah, I’m sorry I mentally muted you as you were explaining this to me.”

“Man, it was da bomb!” Trent says. ��You have no idea how long Rob and I have been trying to find somebody who could be our frontman, and then Aegon came out of nowhere, I mean it was like he dropped out of the sky, and he was just perfect…”

As Trent rambles, your attention strays to Aegon. He’s nodding politely at whatever Kimmie is saying, but he’s looking at you. He turns away when he catches you watching him. Trent, eternally eager to impress, ventures off to the bar to procure you another Bacardi Breezer. He gets preoccupied talking to Dale, a sort of idol for him; Dale was a park ranger for years before giving it up to open Ursa Minor, and Trent has been feverishly submitting applications to the U.S. Forest Service. It’s easier work than trolling, more consistent, less backbreaking. You’re still staring defenselessly at Aegon.

“You know what’s interesting?” Heather says, following your eyeline. “He’s ignoring Kimmie almost as much as you’re ignoring Trent.”

“He’s ruining my life,” you groan, rubbing your face with both hands. “I’ve known he exists for four days and he’s ruining my life.”

“Uh oh. I think he’s coming over. Time for another Sex On The Beach.”

“Wait—!”

Heather hurries away. Aegon, having abandoned a patently disheartened Kimmie, appears like stars out of cloud cover. He’s tipsy, but nothing more than that. It is as close to sober as you have ever seen him. “Hey.”

“So you did lie to me,” you tease, nodding to where his guitar rests on the amp.

“Yes,” Aegon admits. “But that was a necessary lie.”

“Is any lie truly necessary?”

“Oh, undoubtedly,” he says. “I needed to know what you really thought of me before your judgment was compromised by the whole cool, tortured rockstar thing. Every chick in this room is looking at me differently now than they were yesterday. Except you. You look exactly the same.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.”

“It is.”

Trent returns with a pomegranate Bacardi Breezer for you and a Heineken for himself. Heather comes back with a fresh Sex On The Beach. Rob is trying to chat with Joyce by making fun of her fantasy novel; Joyce is calling Rob stupid with words that are too big for him to understand. Rebuffed by Aegon, Kimmie has pivoted to chatting with Trent’s friends Matt and Gary, who are both entirely enchanted.

“Okay, okay, important question,” Trent asks you. “Fight Club or The Sixth Sense?”

“The Mummy.”

“ER or the X-Files?”

“The X-Files, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Aegon agrees.

“Microsoft or Apple?”

“Apple,” Aegon says instantly.

Trent laughs. “You have some kind of vendetta against Microsoft?”

“No.” Aegon glances at you, smiles, winks. “I just really like apples.”

“Totally,” Trent says uncertainly. “Lots of Vitamin C. Backstreet Boys or Boyzone?”

“Oh, no question, Boyzone!” Heather exclaims. This begins a fierce debate. As they battle it out, you find yourself watching Aegon again. The sounds of Ursa Minor bleed away, the conversations, the giggling, the clinking bottles and glasses, the resumed Shania Twain hits. You are aware of nothing else but these things: the gravity of his voice, his large expressive eyes, that stubborn lock of hair that always escapes from behind his ear, the way he gestures with his hands, the fullness of his cheeks when he smiles.

Absentmindedly, as he is arguing the merits of I Want It That Way, Aegon scratches his forearm and pushes up his shirt sleeve. There, in the crook of his elbow, is something that puzzles you: it is a cluster of small dark patches like bruises, knots of scar tissue that are probably years old. Before you can ask, you realize what they are. They’re track marks. You hear his voice in your hushed skull: I’ve been better than I am now. I’ve been worse.

Aegon catches you watching; your face is horrified, but more than that it is wounded. He rolls his sleeve back down and shakes his head subtly enough that no one else will notice. What he means is clear. Please don’t say anything.

It hits you like a bullet, like a blade: not the past, but the future. He is going to die one day. You all are, of course, but unless Aegon changes he’ll be first. The thought is nonsensical, excruciating. You don’t want to lose him. You don’t want to imagine a world without him in it.

“I have something for you,” you tell Aegon suddenly, interrupting what Heather was saying. You dart to the booth and return with the parka that your dad generously donated. You hand it to Aegon.

“No way!” he says, admiring it. “How? Why?!”

“It’s my dad’s old one, it doesn’t even fit him anymore, so don’t feel weird about it. It cost me less than a Bacardi Breezer. But it’ll keep you from getting hypothermia.”

He dons the parka and models it, hands in his pockets, then on his waist; everyone agrees that it looks very fashionable. “I’m going to go try it out,” Aegon says. “After a quick detour.” He departs to get a rum and Coke from the bar. With his drink in hand, he ascends the steps that lead up to the rooftop patio, which is very much out of commission at the moment.

“Aegon, it’s closed!” Trent calls after him. “Hey! Aegon! Well…what can you do.” He shrugs, blasé now that the cause is lost, and smiles at you. “Ricky Martin or Jennifer Lopez?”

Heather detonates: “JLo, clearly!”

Five minutes later, Aegon comes flying down the steps and pulls you away from the group. Trent almost interjects; Heather stops her brother and diverts him with a passionate diatribe about New Kids On The Block, which Trent reveres unequivocally. “You have to come up to the roof with me,” Aegon says, low so no one else will hear.

“What? Why?”

“You just have to. Right now. You’ll see.”

“Um…okay…?”

You get your own parka off the coatrack. Then Aegon, wildly impatient, takes your hand and half-leads, half-drags you up the wooden staircase. The luminescence of the Christmas lights and clamor of voices disappear behind you as you step out with him into the cold, dark, mid-November air. The snow crunches beneath your boots. The wind is sharp and brutal, harsh enough to crack skin like ice.

“What—?”

“Look!” Aegon insists ecstatically, pointing up into the sky.

And then you see it, what the clouds and fog of Juneau hardly ever leave visible: the rippling curtain of green and blue and purple, fluid like silk, soundless like eternity. The aurora borealis. The Northern Lights.

Aegon is laughing, spinning around, gazing up into the sky with speechless, awed wonder. He flops down onto the snow, bathing in the otherworldly light. After a moment’s hesitation, you lay down beside him. The sky is remarkably clear. You can see stars, the crescent moon, the shadow of the Milky Way.

“This place is so fucking beautiful,” Aegon sighs, his breath white mist in the air. Then he looks over at you. “Thank you for the parka. This would be really painful without it.”

“Thank you for saving me from Trent.”

“Are you not into tall, beefy, obviously hot football stars? Is that not your type?”

“Tragically, my type seems to be alcoholic Greek guys.”

He smiles, the star-fire radiance of the Northern Lights on his face. “Oh no. You poor thing.”

“I know. I’m destined for annihilation.”

He turns towards you, rolling onto his side, and like a mirror image you turn towards him. The snow shifts to accommodate the shape of your body, shoulders and ribs and hips. You and Aegon study each other as the universe wheels by, mesmerizing and yet indifferent. That unruly lock of white-blond hair rests on his cheek.

“Aegon?”

“Yeah.”

“What the hell are you running from?”

“I can’t tell you,” he says. “I mean, I could lie to you. I could give you a million different reasons. But none of them would be true. I don’t want to lie to you. I’d rather say nothing.”

“You’re married,” you try.

“No,” he replies, chuckling, thinking it’s absurd.

“You have, like, twelve kids and are fleeing child support payments.”

“No kids. Not that I know of.”

“You’re a demon who got in trouble and was put on demon probation and as an opportunity to redeem yourself you were sent here from the underworld to ruin my life.”

“No. Me ruining your life is just one brilliant coincidence.”

You reach out through the cold night, tuck the escaped lock of hair behind Aegon’s ear, caress his cheek—smooth, yielding, strangely delicate—with your hand, roughened by a lifetime in this unforgiving alcove of the world. And then Aegon closes the space between you to touch his lips to yours.

What shocks you is not that he does it, but how soft the kiss is, how slow. He’s gentle and careful, not reckless, not insistent; he’s warm while Juneau is freezing, freeing while so much of existence feels like a cage. He’s a key that throws doors wide open. He’s a harmless, weightless fire like starlight. His hands explore your face, your hair, tentatively, as if he expects you to stop him. His tongue leaves remnants of his rum and Coke in your mouth, bitterness and sweetness and spice. There are pounding footsteps on the staircase; you break the kiss not a second too soon.

“Hey,” Heather says as she opens the door, flinching against the cold. “Unless you plan on sleeping up here—or, uh, whatever you’re doing—you’ll want to come downstairs now. Dale is closing up the bar.”

Ursa Minor is in chaos: people are hustling to get one last drink, arranging rides, saying goodbyes, making plans, gathering their things. Aegon fetches his guitar and then joins the melee at the bar, begging Dale for another rum and Coke.

Dale is bellowing over the commotion: “Alright, the rock concert is over. Everyone better be out of here by 10:00, I’m exhausted, I gotta wipe everything down and go home.”

“One more!” Aegon pleads. “Please, Dale, my man, hook me up!”

“Fine,” Dale surrenders. “Just one more…”

“And a Heineken for me too?” Trent says hopefully. Dale groans in exasperation.

“Are you coming?” Heather asks you as she, Joyce, and Kimmie head for the parking lot, parkas donned and zipped. You hesitate and then push through the mob to locate Aegon.

“Do you need a ride?”

“Huh? No, I’m good,” he says. He’s mostly paying attention to the rum and Coke that Dale is mixing. “I’m more than good. I’m great, Appletini, don’t worry about me. Yeah, Dale, can you make that a double…?”

You leave him, a little annoyed, a little anxious, and follow your friends outside. Within ten minutes, your Jeep Cherokee is pulling into your parents’ driveway. You enter to find your mom and dad still awake and embroiled in a heated Scrabble game at the kitchen table. You shower, change into comfy oversized pajamas, and lay on your bed staring up at the ceiling. The walls are covered with posters from your middle school days, your high school days, your college days, your current days: NSYNC, Will Smith, the Spice Girls, Destiny’s Child, Hanson, Winona Ryder, Heath Ledger, Ryan Phillippe, Ricky Martin. You would have chosen him over JLo when Trent asked…if you had cared enough to answer.

The phone rings once, twice, goes quiet. Someone must have picked up downstairs. Thirty seconds later, your mom knocks on your bedroom door and then opens it a crack.

“Hey, Mom. What’s up?”

“There’s some boy on the phone for you. I told him I wasn’t sure if you were still awake, just in case you wanted to avoid him. He sounds annoying.”

Oh great, Trent. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll handle it.” She disappears and your hand fumbles to grab the phone on your nightstand. “Hello?”

“Hey,” says Aegon.

You bolt upright in bed. “Heyyy. Stalker.”

“I am not a stalker,” he objects, slurring. “I am an…uh…an investigator. Yes. I investigate. That’s what I do. Not stalk. Investigate.”

“Okay. How did you investigate your way into calling me?”

“I asked Dale if he knew your parents’ phone number and he had it in his address book.”

“Top notch, the CIA is missing out if they don’t recruit you.”

The smile is gentle and hazy and warm in his voice. “You want to come over and watch the X-Files with me?”

“What, right now?”

“Yeah. Right now.”

In his apartment. On his couch. Just the two of us. Alone. Well, alone except for Sunfyre, who hardly counts as a chaperone. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

“Oh, no, you misunderstood. I said X-Files, not—”

“Okay, great, as long as you’re aware. I’ll be over in fifteen minutes.” You hang up the phone.

When Aegon greets you in the doorway of his apartment, he is wearing a pink San Diego hoodie and green plaid pajama pants. He staggers when he walks; there are three small empty bottles of 99 Whipped on the counter, along with two mugs of hot chocolate, dutifully topped with whipped cream and chocolate shavings. “Yours is the one in the blue mug. It’s booze-free, I swear. I double-checked like five times.”

“Are you a Gemini?” you demand.

“No,” he replies, bewildered. “Aquarius.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

You retrieve your hot chocolate and sink into Aegon’s couch. It’s threadbare and sagging, but surprisingly comfortable; he sits all the way at the other end, leaving a full middle cushion of No Man’s Land between you. Sunfyre leaps up to fill the gap, resting his cone-embellished head on your lap. His stitches are healing beautifully; you’ll take them out next week. On the tv is a rerun of the X-Files. Fox Mulder is, somewhat predictably, ranting about a government conspiracy. You are watching, but you are also wondering if this was a good idea. It feels like you know Aegon—completely, inexplicably—but you don’t really. He’s just some stranger, a drunk stranger, a drunk former-addict stranger who you are beginning to suspect you love.

Lyrics from The Distance come back to lurk in the corner of the room like a ghost: She’s hoping in time that her memories will fade.

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” you ask Aegon.

“I don’t know, probably making a turkey for me and Sunfyre. He loves the organs, the ones that come in that little plastic baggie they shove up inside the carcass.”

“Charming. But you can’t be alone on Thanksgiving.”

“I’m usually alone on Thanksgiving, I’m used to it.”

“You don’t make friends in all those glamorous cities sprinkled across America?”

“Not the kind of friends who would invite me home for Thanksgiving.”

You stare at the tv, sipping your hot chocolate, scratching Sunfyre’s floppy ears. You are hyperaware of the precise amount of space between you and Aegon. You are alarmed by how natural it would feel to make it disappear, like Northern Lights blotted out by fog.

“Look,” Aegon says, breaking the tension. “What you told me on the phone…that’s not why I called you. That’s not what I’m expecting from you right now. I don’t want to do anything that you’re not totally cool with. And I can see that you’re not cool with it. So nothing is going to happen. Completely off the table. Zero percent chance.” He’s nervous, you realize; you’ve seen him frantic, and you’ve seen him angry, but it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him nervous. “What I mean is that I don’t want you to be sitting here stressing about what you think is on my mind. So I’m telling you flat out, that’s not what I’m thinking.”

“What are you thinking?”

He smiles, opens his hands futilely, looks down at his bare feet. “I can’t tell you. But I promise it’s not that.” Then an idea occurs to him. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that you shouldn’t be alone on Thanksgiving.”

“Are you finally inviting me to your house? Because I invite you to mine constantly and my house sucks.”

“I am officially inviting you to my house. Sunfyre can come too, my parents adore dogs.”

“Is your dad going to be waiting for me in the living room with a shotgun?”

“No. He’s not that kind of dad.”

Outside, there is a swelling whirl of sirens. They build and build as they approach the apartment building, then fade as they shoot off into the darkness towards the lakes: Crystal Lake, Moose Lake, Dredge Lake. Aegon goes to the window and pulls aside the curtain. Then he looks back to you. The lights of the passing police cars paint his face in shades of ruby and sapphire, ocean and blood. “I think they found another body.”

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon ii #aegon x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen ii #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Merry & Bright"

Part 3 - Family Fun Night

Merry & Bright Masterlist

Rated: Teen

Pairing: Bucky x Steve

Tags: a/b/o, omega Bucky, alpha Steve, kid fic, Karens

Summary: Bucky and Steve go to their daughters' school play.

(If your name is Karen, I'm sorry and sending warm hugs)

Bucky’s been able to ignore the encroaching Holiday season for longer than usual this year. 

Between the warm-ish fall weather and his continuing therapy appointments, the ceaseless calls from his publisher and that guy from Warner Brothers, and the move and the overwhelming demands of a newborn, it’s just hard to believe that it could already be Thanksgiving next week.

Steve’s next text coming through just about drives a bulldozer through that delusion:

Steve: Hey, I’m at the store right now. You want me to pick anything up for this ‘Friendsgiving’-extravaganza? I know Jarvis said he’s got it handled, but I feel like we should have backups for the girls? Just in case Tony’s picked out some sort of weird, avant garde menu? Becs really has her heart set on pumpkin pie. And Sarah, well …

Bucky: You could ask Pepper. I think we’re safe as long as there’s mac ‘n’ cheese and rolls. Anyway we’ve got over a week to sort it out.

Steve: … Babe, today’s Tuesday. We’ve got two days. 

Bucky immediately checks his phone calendar, and sure enough, Thanksgiving is this week, not next. Fuck. 

“Ohshit,” he breathes, eyes bugging out of his head as he realizes that this means tonight is the school play, not next Tuesday. “Fuck. Shit!” In his hands, his phone chimes.

Steve: So, pie?

Bucky texts back a harried ‘yes’, thinking that he’s got to get his butt back to the tower immediately. He very suddenly has only about nine hours before his children need to be fitted with their (as of yet not even near-to-finished) homemade costumes. Becca’s paper mache drumstick still needs spray painted, and Sarah’s supposed to be a scoop of mashed potatoes that Bucky still needs to find something to act as the pat of butter on top.

“Jarvis, help.” Bucky says as he hoofs it back in the direction of the tower. 

 Jarvis’ voice emanates from his phone: “Mr. Rogers. How can I be of assistance?”

Bucky rattles off the craft supplies they’re going to need. “And if you know anyone on Stark’s payroll who’s good with a needle and thread, that wouldn’t hurt either.”

It seems like only yesterday they were dressed up as Buzz and Woody, letting Bo Peep and a very bossy Jessie drag them around from house to house. They’d trick-or-treated in the Cobble Hill neighborhood where they technically don’t live yet but will soon, once the house is finished being refurbished. Bucky had carried Gabe strapped to his front as one of the Little Green Men alien squeaker toy thingies, and Steve had pulled a wagon along for when one or both of the girls inevitably became too tuckered out to—

Anyhow, point is: it feels like they were trick‘or’treating all of two seconds ago.

And now Thanksgiving is in two days? What the everloving fuck?

Bucky spends a very brief amount of time that afternoon being irrationally mad at his husband, as if it’s Steve’s fault that his pregnancy brain has apparently extended into the postpartum period and allowed him to lose track of time. He grumps privately that Steve should’ve somehow magically known that he was mentally operating in the wrong week, and should have thus alerted him that the holiday was imminent! Stupid Steve. What the hell is the alpha good for, anyway?

Later that evening of course, he realizes how ridiculous that is. He comes to terms with the fact that he’s actually upset with himself—partly because of the mad scramble he’s left with to get ready for Coulton-Chestor Preparatory Academy’s family fun night, but even moreso because of the 5k he now has to face up to in less than forty-eight hours. (What real, qualitative difference one more week of jogging in the park was really going to make, Bucky can’t say, but he’d been counting on it to help him work his confidence up about the whole ordeal.)

It’s not like he wouldn’t back out of it if he could, but he absolutely cannot back out. This is the first ever Brooklyn Bridge American Heroes Turkey Trot, co-sponsored by Stark Industries and Barnes Prosthetics (yes, Bucky is the genius who thought it’d be fine and dandy to plan a 5k less than half a year after giving birth). Together, he and Tony have started a foundation for veterans and civilian victims of the regime years, to help provide them access to the high quality, bio-integrative prosthetics that Bucky’s company makes.

Since it’s not exactly cheap to weld a robot arm onto somebody, Bucky and Tony have partnered with Wounded Warrior Project for this charity run; done to raise funds for vets who don’t happen to have a spare ninety grand lying around to fund their surgeries. The limbs themselves are, of course, all provided free of charge by Barnes Prosthetics, and the overall costs are at least somewhat ameliorated by various amenities provided by Stark.

As the visible face of the charity, Bucky’s got no choice: he needs to show up, show off, and show support. He’s expected to be there to make nice with all the other amputees who’ll be running, and to show off how happy and perfect his life is now that he’s got the Asset IV prototype cybernetic implant attached to his body. It is a bitchin’ arm, and Bucky is excited to get to hand one of those gigantic cardboard checks over to the Wounded Warrior guys, but he really, really wishes he’d thought to postpone the Foundation’s first run until next Thanksgiving. 

At least he’ll have Steve there with him, he thinks. His Alpha has promised not to outpace him to any embarrassing degree, Darcy is fine with keeping Gabe until they get back, and Tony has even arranged to have the girls set up for the Macy’s parade with a disgustingly VIP viewing situation on Central Park West. But aside from those few hours on Thanksgiving morning, Bucky’s daughters will remain under his purview for the holidays this year. 

And the hubbub begins with Family Fun Night that evening. 

Bucky alone has to deal with Sarah’s anxiety problems leading up to the curtain call for this stupid fucking school play. “Hold still, Honey,” he begs, speaking past the safety pin he’s got held between his lips as he kneels there and uses both of his hands to try and do a last minute costume fix. “Sarah I said hold still.”

“Fix it daddy, fix it!” 

He’s crouched next to his youngest daughter in the school’s hallway, trying to better secure the pat of “butter” (a folded yellow tea towel) to the top of her not-so-great mashed potato costume. Steve is off somewhere with the drumstick, helping her to not be scared about walking out on stage. “Baby, please. I can’t fix it if you keep moving around,” Bucky growls, but his frustrated tone only makes Sarah get more hysterical about her role in the play being messed up by a floppy tea towel. She starts to cry about how she doesn’t want to do this anymore. 

“Sarah Winnifred, I swear to God, if you don’t hold still, you’re gonna have a new hole poked in your head!”

He and Steve sit proudly in the fourth row back and watch the play that their children’s overpriced prep school is putting on before it lets out for Thanksgiving break.

At the end of the final song, when all of the students are lined up on the stage like a demented paper-mache buffet of human-sized food items, bowing hand in hand, Steve and Bucky rise with all the other parents for a standing ovation, humongous smiles plastered on their faces. Steve tries to do a finger whistle with middling success, then he leans over to Bucky’s ear and cheerfully whispers, “That was so dumb!”

Bucky laughs, still clapping and beaming with absolute pride for his daughters. “Yeah it was friggin’ awful!” 

The curtain falls, and he and Steve exit the auditorium to go backstage and congratulate the girls. A very excited drumstick and mashed potatoes run up and start talking over each other to tell their fathers all about the play that they just performed. “Papa! Daddy! Did you see me?! Did you see my song?!!” 

“What about meee?!”

“Sure did, Becs. You were really good!” 

“The best turkey drumstick ever.”

For being such excellent thespians and to celebrate their acting debut, they present the girls with two foil-wrapped tulips that they bought out in the lobby. Becca especially, seems very proud of her flower, twirling in her drumstick costume and holding it to her nose again and again. Bucky’s smile wavers with emotion as he gets that warm, shot-of-whiskey feeling once again, and he remembers that Life is Good. He catches Steve’s eye from over top of the mashed potatoes, and they share one of those silent “I Love You” moments. Steve shoots him a wink.

It being family fun night, Darcy appears as planned and ushers the girls away to go change back into regular clothes before they head over to the kids’ party in the gymnasium. Meanwhile, Steve and Bucky go to the reception that’s been put together for the parents. Bucky isn’t super keen on attending, but he promised the girls that they could play games with the other kids for at least an hour, so he and Steve make an admirable attempt to mingle amongst the other parents.

Coulton-Chestor Preparatory Academy is an exclusive elementary school on the Upper East Side. Due to its sheer proximity to Stark Tower, and since bussing the girls all the way to Brooklyn for an entire year would’ve been too much of a hassle, Steve and Bucky chose to enroll them there. It’s only temporary, until the renovations on the Cobble Hill house are complete and they’re able to move back to Brooklyn. Bucky is looking forward to being able to walk his children the two picturesque blocks between their house and the neighborhood school each day.

But until then, it’s the more snobbish parents and overzealous PTA moms of Coulton-Chestor that he has to navigate at functions such as tonight’s. Bucky’s been taking some time off work ever since things got very pregnant-and-miserable in about month eight, but he still considers himself a working father, and as such there is an awkward disconnect between him and the more … involved stay-at-home parents who surround him at the reception.

At least there are hors d’oeuvres and cocktails, which give him something to do with his hands. Steve starts chatting with a few of the parents who are running the silent auction, and Bucky avoids getting drawn into bidding on overpriced theater tickets by heading over to the refreshments table. He’s just finished loading up on a bunch of mini quiches and cocktail weenies, when the one person he’d hoped to fully avoid at this function makes her attack. Bucky turns around with his little plate of foot and startles as he’s suddenly faced with a familiar, blonde-haired woman. 

“James!” She’s got a tea-length dress, an overly-whitened smile, and a ponytail that’s been curled to within an inch of its life. It’s Karen.

(No, her name is literally Karen.)

And in Bucky’s limited experience with her, she has an uncanny ability to make every social interaction the exact opposite of what Bucky would like it to be. It’s just a gift some people have.

She swoops in with two other omega parents by her sides, introducing them as “Jill” and “Nate.” Bucky plasters on a smile to match hers while she air kisses his cheeks in that way that rich people who think they’re cultured always do.

“You made it,” she coos, acting pleased to see him. In all fairness, she might be. Bucky’s never point blank told the woman that he finds her insufferable, and she always seems to make a beeline for the more well-to-do parents. Ever since she found out that Bucky and Steve not only rub shoulders with Tony Stark, but are actually living with him, she’s been eager to make Bucky one of her besties. “It’s been too long. How are you, darling?”

“Oh, you know,” Bucky says, gesturing with his plate of cocktail weenies. “Hanging in there.”

“And how is that gorgeous new baby of yours doing?” she asks, nudging Jill to announce, “James is married to Commander Rogers. They have three children.”

Jill and Nate make a polite fuss over that, while Bucky tries to act gracious and think of a way to correct Karen that “Commander” isn’t Steve’s title, and if he ever hears her referring to him as such, he’ll be offended. “How is your family doing?” Bucky asks, more to get the topic off himself rather than due to any real interest. 

Like most of the Coulton-Chestor moms, Karen is married to a well-to-do Alpha, has precisely one child, and spends her time trying to climb as high in Manhattan “Mommy” society as possible. Having a living child at all is automatically a foot up in terms of social standing, Bucky’s learned, and the moms of Park Avenue lord their accomplishments higher than most. Most times Bucky’s met her, Karen’s been wearing diamond solitaires with designer workout clothes and brandishing her own fertility like a damn merit badge. 

Karen brags about her son for a few minutes, and when it seems like everyone in their small group is necessitated to take a turn with regards to their own offspring, Bucky throws some random fact out about how the girls have been doing. Jill and Nate start gushing over Bucky’s grand accomplishment of having three kids, which is practically unheard of. 

“You must be so proud. How lucky to have three healthy children!”

“What were yours in the play?” Jill asks, and she seems friendly enough so Bucky makes an effort to tell her about how he’s responsible for the turkey leg and the mashed potatoes. She giggles and nods and says her son was one of the pumpkins.

“Oh, ha, yeah. They had quite the little dance routine, didn’t they?” 

Bucky’s smile turns annoyed when Karen feels the need to point out, “Yes! And your little Rebecca kept up alright, didn’t she? She seemed able to follow along with the other kids quite well!”

“Yes,” Bucky says peevishly. “She’s very talented.” 

“Isn’t it wonderful here? I just love how inclusive Coulton-Chestor is,” Karen simpers. She turns to the other moms and starts telling them about how Becca is in her son’s “regular” class, and how she’s always so sweet, and so helpful to the other students. She talks about Becca like she’s a little mascot, or a class pet, and it rankles Bucky’s nerve to no end.

Since the fertility crisis began, there’s been more stigma placed on children with any sorts of disabilities, and Bucky’s had to deal with a lot of thinly-veiled prejudice due to his daughter’s special needs ever since he started advocating to get her into the same high-quality school programs as Sarah. The public school system still hasn’t recovered, and with limited slots available in all childcare-related fields these days, people are more ruthlessly competitive for their children than ever before. 

“Yes, we like it here,” Bucky agrees. “Though we’ll be switching to a different school next year, when we move to the new house over in Brooklyn.”

“You’re not leaving The Tower?” Karen gasps, as if that’s the most horrible, ludicrous decision. Given that she makes it sound like Bucky and his family are choosing to move out of friggin’ Buckingham Palace, Nate and Jill predictably get curious and ask:

“The ‘Tower’?”

“Stark Tower,” Karen chirps, excited to tell the other two omegas, “James and his husband live there.”

 Nate’s eyebrows go up. “They live there. In the tower?”

“Oh yes! Didn’t you know? Why, they’re friends with the Starks.”

“Really? Oh, I’ve heard such good things about that Pepper Potts,” Jill gushes. “Seems like a lovely woman. How do you know her?”

Bucky smiles, pained. “Actually I knew Tony first. We work together.”

“You work?” Nate sneers. Bucky ignores him. 

“Yeah, I met Tony back during the, ah … well, during the regime years.”

“Gilead? Oh. Huh.”

(“Wonder what the Starks were doing, back then? Were they married then?”

“You never do hear what celebrities got up to during all that, do you?”

“No, you never do.”)

Bucky hums, not intending to get into a conversation about it, but Karen forces his hand by volunteering, “Wasn’t that all in your book though, James?” 

“Um,”

Karen enthusiastically tells the others, “He was one of those resistance fighters, can you believe it? That’s how he lost his arm.” (Everybody’s eyes not-so-surreptitiously fly to where Bucky’s left hand is sticking out of his sweater, holding onto the plate of hors d'oeuvres.) “And he was a vessel. His husband was one of the commanders down in Washington. That’s where they met!”

“Really?”

“Steve wasn’t a real commander …” Bucky hedges.

“Oh he wrote a whole book about it! You really must read it.” Karen rattles off the title and both Nate and Jill make sounds of recognition. 

“Ooh. You know, I’ve heard of that book.”

“Great,” Bucky mutters. He has to smile along politely and answer them as they start asking him fascinated questions, with Karen supplying details every time he tries to demure and change the topic to something less sensational. 

“He’s just being modest!” she simpers, laying her hand on Bucky’s arm in an overly familiar way. “James, tell them about how you were on the View.”

Bucky reluctantly does, and Jill and Nate nod along, enthused to hear about how he’s been on television and met the hosts of the show. “It really wasn’t all that exciting,” Bucky insists. “I wasn’t the main guest. They had, you know, real celebrities that went after me. Reese Witherspoon and stuff.”

“You met Reese Witherspoon?”

“No, no. I didn’t. I was only there for like, two minutes. It wasn’t even important.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Karen prods smugly. “A little birdy told me that Netflix was trying to buy up the film rights to your book.”

Bucky doesn’t even care, he openly shoots her a withering glare this time. “I can assure you that’s not true.” (It’s HBO, and it isn’t Bucky’s fault if she doesn’t have her details right.) 

Karen continues to gab to the other two parents about it anyway, insisting that some omega heartthrob actor whom Bucky has never heard of would be the ideal casting choice to portray him in the film version of his book. “And Chris Hemsworth. Oh! Wouldn’t he just be perfect to play your Steve?”

“Nobody’s making a movie out of it!” Bucky snaps, fed up with her incessant gossiping. “It’s not happening.” He looks around awkwardly at the end of his outburst, aware of Nate and Jill’s surprised expressions. “Um, I just mean: the studios were shopping around,” he mutters. “But I said no.” 

Of course this is very disappointing to Karen, and she tries to tell Bucky what a mistake that is, talking about how interested everybody would be in the subject matter. “I just saw an episode of the Dr. Phil show where they were talking about it,” she says. “They had wives and some of those vessels on. Even a commander.”

Bucky hums dispassionately. “Sounds like trash tv to me.” He’ll be damned if he lets Karen know he was asked onto that program as well. “Just people trying to make a spectacle out of it.”

Karen titters awkwardly and agrees, but Bucky can tell that she’s annoyed at him for shutting her gossip down. “Well, it’s all very controversial, of course,” she excuses. “And a commitment like that would just be so much more on your plate.”

Bucky nods, glad that she’s dropping it. “Yeah. Exactly.”

“After all, you’re already a working mother,” she says, saying ‘working’ all hurriedly and quietly, as if it’s something not to be mentioned. “I’m sure you just want to focus on your family, now. With the new baby and all.” 

“Congratulations,” Jill gushes. “Did you have a boy or a girl?”

“A boy. Gabe. He just turned four months old last week.”

“Oh, how wonderful.”

“Another omega for your family?”

“No, Karen,” Bucky says, annoyance audible in his voice. “We haven’t had him tested. We’re just going to wait and find out the old fashioned way.”

“Oh. I see.”

They all seem taken aback, because it’s very rare for a newborn not to be tested for designation these days. Much to Bucky’s chagrin, gender roles only seem to be becoming more emphasized than ever. Jill chuckles awkwardly and tries to lighten the mood. “Well, that’s so progressive of you. Dan had our little Archie in an alpha playgroup by the time he could crawl, I swear.”

They all titter over that, and Bucky tries to scan the room for any sight of Steve without being too obvious in what he’s doing. He spots him over by the punch bowl. “Um, I’m sorry,” he excuses. “I think I see my husband calling me.” He starts to make his escape, but Karen grabs him just as he’s turning.

“Oh, James, wait! We wanted to ask if you’d help us plan the Winter Gala.”

“Oh, I uh.”

“We’re going to have the children do a nativity scene. And I was thinking a candlelight service. Wouldn’t that just be picturesque?”

Bucky makes a face. “Sorry, Karen. My family isn’t very religious.”

“Oh, no but it’ll be interdenominational!” she insists with a big grin. “You celebrate Christmas, of course!”

“No.”

“... No?” 

“Not really,” Bucky grunts. “I mean, we do a tree and a menorah and all that, but ..."

“Menorah?” she says, and the way she squinches her eyes sets Bucky’s nerves on edge. “You’re not Jewish?”

Bucky pulls his arm back to himself. “Culturally, yes. Steve’s family is Catholic, mine’s Jewish. But we’ve decided that organized religion isn’t what’s right for our family.”

“Oh! But you can still come to the church service!” Karen says brightly. “It’ll be—”

“We’re not religious,” Bucky blurts out, sick of stepping around the issue and having lost his patience. He’s tired of politely fielding other people’s invitations for him and his husband and children to come and check out ‘this congregation’ or that, and figures he’ll just squash any chance there might be of him actually getting roped into planning holiday festivities with the Coulton-Chestor evangelical set. “We’re pretty much raising the girls Atheist,” he tells Karen, watching as her smile flickers like a bulb hanging on by its very last filament. He feels a degree of nasty satisfaction at having perturbed her. 

Disturbingly, the Christian Right has continued to grow in popularity—culturally, if not politically—these past few years, and Bucky has very little tolerance for it (he tried to show tolerance before the regime, and look how that ended up). He knows his family is in the minority, and it’s very apparent how this information makes the friendly light in even Nate and Jill’s eyes dim somewhat.

“I’m sure you’ll plan something great, though,” he excuses brightly, turning around to go and find Steve and see if it isn’t too early to make their escape. “It was nice catching up!”

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