#bargain late holidays

[fraugwinska]

Hey! Me again!

Could I get an Alastor x Female reader where she tells him she's pregnant, he's so stunned he thinks it a joke until she shows him the positive on the test and it shocks him to the core but after the initial shock he's overjoyed.

My dear jezebel <3 Thank you for being so patient! I took a few liberties from the ask, I really hope you don't mind! After a lot of rewrites and edits - I'm finally happy to share it with you! Thank you for the ask, my dearest! TW:Sickness&death-Light smut-Minors DNI-5.2k words

Autumn had always been your favorite season.

The most colorful of the four; from your bed you could always see various shades of red, orange, green and yellow, all mixed together to create a vibrant, warm impressionistic painting. Just looking at the bright shades outside had always made you smile.

There was also this peaceful ambiance around autumn that you could feel but not quite understand. Something so profound and yet ephemeral in a way.

"Should I close the window before I go?", Alice asked you, a sad smile on her face. Your favorite hospice nurse had spent her last shift before her holiday almost exclusively with you - somehow you both knew there wasn't much time left. The sickness that ate away at your body was unforgiving - you knew it was simply a matter of days now, and even that was generous. Alice must've sensed it, too.

"No, no.", you replied with a warm smile. "Leave it open. The night nurse can close it later."

Alice nodded, said her goodbyes and gave you a kiss on the head before exiting the room, carefully closing the heavy wooden door with a thud of painful finality. Breathing had become painful lately, but despite the sting you inhaled deeply, just to burn the smell of bristle leafs and warm wood into your memory. Right next to the memory of him.

Alastor.

Summoning him hadn't been easy, especially since you were bedridden and almost constantly monitored. Not only did you have to take special care of choosing the right night to be left unsupervised - you had to bribe Alice and make her believe it was her own idea to give you a few hours to be on your own, which you claimed to need desperately. The internet had been your biggest friend in the weeks before, preparing - you had used the time you had at your disposal to research on shady websites and occult forums who to summon, how to do the ritual and, in case he said no, which bargain to offer. And you chose Alastor.

It was the name that spoke to you the most - Unusual. Mature. Vintage. Mysterious. Powerful and yet gentle, in it's own way. 'Mans defender'. 'Avenger'. The more you read about him on dubious servers and obscure wiki's, the more you were sure it should be him. Still able to use your hands back then, in the chosen night you managed to follow all of the instructions perfectly, even while bound to your bed. When the living shadow appeared out of nowhere, twisting and contorting into the shape of a tall, handsome, dapper dressed demon, the tiny handheld radio you had in your hands slid from your weakened grip and your heart skipped a beat. As he stepped nearer, the perceived humanity of his appearance disappeared before your eyes - long, black fingers ending in red talons, small antlers sitting in between fluffy crimson-colored ears, razor-sharp teeth and blood-red irises shining with curiosity. He stopped just a foot away in front of your bed. As he began to talk, to introduce himself - as though being summoned by gravely sick human women were the norm - you stopped him with a raise of your hand, the action draining your already weakened body and mind.

"I know who you are. Alastor, the Radio Demon."

"My reputation precedes me, then!", he chimed, his voice pointed, melodic and so enchantingly and contradictorily full of life. His whole posture, his devious smile and the way his eyes glinted in the dim moonlight made it very clear that he was a dangerous creature, and yet, you felt strangely at ease.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this summoning, my dear?"

You swallowed hard, knowing full well that if you wanted him to accept your deal, you needed to choose your words carefully.

"I... I am dying."

Alastor's grin twitched, but he said nothing, only tilted his head and waited for you to continue, hands folded behind his back.

"I've been sick my whole life, I...", you felt the need to explain, so that your offer wouldn't sound so... well, pitiful.

"Ever since I was born, I have been bound first to my crib, then to a bed, the hospital and now this hospice. I have never been allowed or even able to go to school, or make friends, or just... do things that children ought to do. Even though my life was always going to be short lived."

You could feel tears forming in your eyes, but blinked them away - you didn't want to cry in front of him, you felt pathetic as you were already. "I missed out on every milestone, every first experience a girl should have. First trip to a park, first day at school, first friend, first kiss, first... everything. And I'll miss out on so many more. I just want to have one normal thing, one 'first' before I die. One memory of a real and happy experience. Of something good."

"And what, pray tell, would that be?", he asked, a brow raised, his smile growing wider. He could probably hear the beating of your heart as you took a deep breath. This was it. Now or never.

"I want to lose my virginity."

The silence following your calmly stated confession was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. It took a while for Alastor to say something.

"Oh my, you really don't mince words, do you, darling?"

You shook your head.

"I have no time to waste. Every second counts."

"Believe me, little one, I'm quite... flattered that you'd go through the trouble of a summoning ritual for this... let's call it: venture. But... why me? Aren't there any men up here you would rather be with?"

"Have you looked at me?", you laughed bitterly. "I'm a sick, dying 20-something in a hospice bed. No man would ever so much as touch me. If I'd even get to meet anyone, since I can't get out of this bed anymore without a nurse. I have nothing to offer a partner anymore. No beauty, no future, not even money. I have only my soul. Please."

The last word came out as a whisper. Alastor's eyes glowed red in the growing darkness, his grin ever-present. He seemed to consider it for a moment, the sound of humming static the only sound in the room and you feared he might reject you.

"If I were to agree, would you truly be willing to pay the price for it? Your soul, darling, is a very precious thing. Do you know the implications of it's loss?"

You nodded.

"Yes. You can have it. It's not worth anything anyway."

Alastor stepped forward, his eyes locked with yours. He didn't sit down on the bed, instead he stood right beside you, bending over until his face was just inches from yours, the back of his hand lightly brushing your fringe out of your face. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, the scent of blood and something earthy, like wet soil or moss. He smelled like a forest in autumn.

"It is worth quite a bit, actually. More than you can imagine, I'd wager.", his voice was quiet, almost unfiltered and utterly beautiful. "But I can see you are dead set on it - Pardon the wordplay."

His sharp claw pressed into your skin, eliciting a gasp. He followed the curve of your cheek to your chin, lifting it to better access the side of your neck, just under your jaw. Your skin broke out in goosebumps because for the first time in your life, you felt a touch that was not clinical, not meant to treat you or wastefully bide you more time. This touch was gentle and purposeful. Sensual, maybe. A soft sigh escaped you against your will.

Alastor let out a hum that was not entirely unhappy, before bringing his face dangerously close to yours. You could feel the ends of his fluffy hair tickling your face, the tip of his nose lightly brushing against your skin.

"A happy memory, you say. One satisfying experience in return for your soul. I am certainly not usually known for my kindness, dear.", he muttered against the skin of your cheek, before turning towards your lips. So close. Your heart was beating as loud and as fast as it could, making you dizzy. "But I think we have ourselves a deal."

The golden hour has passed, turning bright orange light into fading blue to black. And the air was turning colder. The memory of that night was the only thing you thought about as you slowly felt death approaching.

The way his lips felt against your mouth, his tongue and the sweet taste he left on your lips that still lingered whenever you ran yours across them, recalling the sensation just once more. He had been gentle, patient, always asking and never assuming or forceful. He made sure you were comfortable before exploring you, careful in the places he touched, mindful in tasting you, praising you for the sounds you made. He allowed you to do your share of exploring, too, and although he wasn't human you found his body still wonderfully, beautifully male, no matter his thin, soft taupe fur and his many, shimmering scars. The memory of the moment when he had finally filled you, tender and slow, was as much sweet pain as it was blissful pleasure, and you found solace in his warmth and the steady, rhythmic pace of him moving inside you as you spilled his name, over and over again until he spent himself inside you, bodies deeply connected. It was hard for you to believe that all of it had been actually true, and not just one big fever dream your dying mind had cooked up to send you off gently when Alice woke you from your sleep later that night, wondering aloud why you didn't turn off the little, handheld radio on the floor that was still playing soft jazz music.

But the little, red and blue marks on your collarbones and the one red-and-black strand of hair you had found on your pillow were telltale signs that everything had been indeed real, and you made sure every detail was etched into your heart, into your body and into your skin. It was, and would remain forever, the happiest moment of your entire life.

'I hope my soul is worth enough...' you thought as the coldness finally embraced you, tears running freely down your cheeks now, but the smile on your face was wide and warm, and the last thing you heard before falling into your final sleep was the gentle hum of a breeze that brought in the smell of earth and rain and leaves.

Alastor had no need for sleep. He usually didn't spend his nights sitting in his favorite chair, motionless, listening to music. He was far too busy, too full of life and plans and energy to sit around and just wait for morning. And yet, there he was, sitting and brooding for the last month, every night, his ears tuned in on the low, static-y noise coming from the old-fashioned radio he was holding. A radio eerily similar to hers.

'How did it come to this?', he wondered for the thousandth time, like a broken record. 'Why did I do it?'

He couldn't fathom the reason for his actions that night, why he had given in to the strange, frivolous request of the frail young woman. Why he had agreed to take her virginity, of all things, in exchange for her soul. Granted, she wasn't the first to offer him that, not by far. But usually, the soul was the last thing a sinner offered, after a great many things of lesser value had been already offered and declined in return. It was, in essence, the most desperate measure, taken only by those who had nothing else to lose.

And yet, she had promised him her soul in the very beginning, treating it not as a valuable bargaining chip, but as an expendable object. A thing without use or worth. He didn't know what had intrigued him so much that night. She had been sickly and fragile, her skin almost translucent in the pale light, and yet there was a spark in her eye. Determination, maybe. Her voice had been strong, if quiet, and her smile, although sad, was still familiarly bright. The way she spoke and her body language had made it clear that she had been not as much afraid of him, despite her frail and vulnerable position, as she had been anxious about his response. She was clearly clever and resolute, despite her lack of personal experience. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to follow through the summoning ritual.

"I have nothing to offer a partner anymore. No beauty, no future, no money. O only have my soul. Please."

He couldn't remember a single instance where someone had begged him with the simple word please and he gave into it. And yet, he had accepted her plea - The whole of her soul, in exchange for a meager, single moment of ridiculous passion. The mere thought had repulsed him before: Body on body, blunt thumps of fleshes, debauched obscenities... it was something that had never held his interest. He felt like it was something unrefined and animalistic, something he had always regarded as unnecessary and obsolete. Until then.

Her body had responded so eagerly, so sensitive, so ready to his touches. It had been clear she hadn't lied about her virginity, and yet her eagerness, her fearlessness had surprised him. Acting solely based on instinct and the morals he was brought up with, no real experience of his own himself, he had tried to be as careful and gentle as he could, and somehow, her inexperience had made it... easier. She was not expecting anything in terms of skill, and thus he had to guide her through the process, allowing him to set the pace and giving him ample time to react to her reactions. Sweet gasps, subtle tremors, faint flushes - all of which had told him how she had felt, what had been pleasurable and what had been uncomfortable. He had been able to take his time and make sure she enjoyed herself. It had been fascinating and even... pleasurable for him, too.

Despite the obvious pain, she had kept her eyes open, watching his face intently as they connected. He had felt the warmth and the tension around him, and her little, breathy gasps had been such pleasant sounds that when she had finally found her release, it had triggered his own, foreign as it had been. She had sighed his name in pure bliss, and in that moment he had felt as powerful and as satisfied as the night he had gained his title as Radio Demon.

And when the deed had been done, the girl had smiled so serenely, he was sure he had rarely ever seen anything that could rival her in beauty.

Alastor shifted uncomfortably at that thought, trying to will away the memory and the sensation that the mere thought of her smile invoked.

It had taken a few minutes, but eventually he had collected himself and put his clothes back on. Her eyes had followed him, the spark back in them and even brighter than before, her smile not faltering even when her tired lids had drooped down, slowly lulling her to sleep. Alastor had stood there, in the small, plain hospice room, watching her for a while, a strange feeling in his chest. The deal hadn't been solidified by a handshake, her soul not yet firmly bound to him and the contract void if not officially sealed, but he couldn't bring himself to wake her. Something had stopped him.

The memory of her face, pale and beautiful, smiling so peacefully even in her slumber, made the corners of his lips twitch. She would've made a magnificent addition to his collection of souls. And yet, and yet... He had decided then and there that her soul would find its way to him, eventually. But not through the proposed deal. So, he had left, the exchange unfulfilled, the pact broken, turning on the small radio she had let slip onto the floor just as he heard her caretaker returning to check on her.

'Oh, how the mighty have fallen.', he mused bitterly, a small laugh escaping his lips.

"Alastor?"

Charlie's voice was a mix of concern and curiosity, muffled by the thick, wooden door of his room. She sounded worried, probably wondering why he had excused himself from the hotel's interactions more and more for the past weeks. He was about to ignore her, not in the mood to talk to anyone, especially not her, persistent thing that she was, but when her soft knock followed her call, his smile widened tightly and his eyes flashed red.

"Charlie, dear, I'm afraid I'm not available at the moment.", he called out, his tone a bit sharper than usual.

"Sorry, but...", the princess sounded hesitant, and he could hear her shuffle awkwardly outside. "It's just... There is someone in the lobby, wanting to speak to you. It seems... important."

He got up from his chair with an annoyed sigh and switched off the radio, straightened his clothes and smoothed out his hair and bow tie with one swipe. Whatever business matter was brought forward, Alastor didn't feel like discussing it. The smile he wore was razor sharp and dark, a result of his annoyance and brooding mood, and yet he couldn't bring himself to feign his cheery personality just quite yet. Maybe this mystery visitor would be a suitable punching bag to let off some of that steam.

When Alastor finally opened the door and walked down to the lobby next to a flustered looking Charlie, his breath hitched involuntarily and he froze mid-stride. Charlie stumbled at the sudden lack of motion next to her, the deafening static sound and the chime-like tuning of a radio startling her so much she flinched away from him.

"H-Hey Al!?", she called in shock, "Are you okay?"

He didn't move, didn't even react - his attention was solely focused on the figure standing at the front-desk, who, just a moment ago, had talked to Husker before turning around upon hearing him.

Hell kept her skin white and almost translucent in it's spite, but granted her soft, shimmering silvery fur in it's mercy. Her frame wasn't thin and frail anymore, she looked plush and healthy, soft curves where there had been nothing more than skin and bone before. Keeping almost all of her human features intact, the small, round ears protruding from her hair, the pink-tipped nose and the long and slender tail were definitely characteristics of a dormouse, their ends almost silver and soft-looking. Her eyes were of the same gentle color that he remembered, and when her lips spread into a sad, tender smile his breath was stolen away completely.

It was the same smile. The very one he hadn't been able to purge from his mind, and most likely never would.

"Alastor."

The sound of her voice, quiet and melodic as it had been weeks before, felt like an invisible touch that pulled the air out of him. Not enough to suffocate him, but he was still reeling none the less.

"So you finally succumbed, it seems..."

His usual bravado was absent, his voice lacked it's sharp, jovial tone, sounding more like he was actually talking. Charlie could do little more but watch with widened eyes, seemingly unable to fathom the scene right in front of her.

"What are you talking about, Alastor? How do you know...", the princess spoke carefully and uncertain, her eyes wandering from one demon to another, but she was quickly interrupted, not by him, but by...

"It's a long story better told another time, Miss Charlie.", she said with a genuine smile on her face, still not able to take her eyes off Alastor. She took a few tentative steps towards him, careful, but certain in her movement, a confidence about her that hadn't been there before. Her head tilted in an enigmatic way and she spoke again, this time solely directed at him.

"I'm truly sorry to impose. But I was hoping we could talk... privately."

Alastor nodded mutely, not able to think clearly, before taking a deep breath and straightening his back to tower over her once again. Husk seemed to notice his shift in composure, raising a brow when he passed him by on his way back behind the bar, noticing the strangely satisfied looking smile on Alastor's face that was as unnerving and frightening as always, but with a different tint that even Husk must've trouble placing guessing by the suspicious look that fell over the cat's face.

"Of course, my dear, my office will suffice. If you'll excuse us, Charlotte? We'll be only a short while."

He didn't wait for her response but took his guest by her arm and guided her past an astonished Husk and clearly confused Charlie, leading the girl down the hall and to his office, the air between them thick with something undefinable, and neither of them dared to speak until the heavy mahogany door fell shut, effectively cutting off all outside interference.

Her cheeks were flushed when she stepped closer towards him. The tips of his claws brushed against her fringe, following the curve of her soft ear, across the back of her delicate neck to pluck a strand of her hair, pulling it towards him and running the silky fiber between two fingers and over the pad of his thumb, bringing it to his lips with a deep, pleased inhale.

She looked up at him, her smile shy but hopeful.

"You remember me.", she said with a chuckle, her voice a bit higher, her ears twitching and her tail swaying behind her, showing her emotions all too easily. Alastor nodded, not letting go of her hair just yet.

"How could I not, dear. It's not common for me to leave a contract unsettled, you know."

"I had a feeling that might've been the case, since it took me so long to find you.", she said quietly. "So, my soul..."

"... is still yours, yes."

She wasn't looking at him, directly. Her gaze went over his suit, to his hands and cane, then back to the floor.

"Why?", she asked, a hint of confusion and hurt in her voice, her silken hair slipping from his fingers.

"Why didn't you claim it? You had every right, after all. I offered, you agreed and..."

Alastor didn't speak, couldn't speak. The answer was right on the tip of his tongue, and yet he wasn't sure if he wanted to share it. It felt... strange, and foreign, and not quite comfortable. But it was undeniably true, now - with her in front of him - clearer than any time in the last weeks in his chair, each night, in front of the fireplace.

He wanted her. Not just her soul. Her. So, he settled on silence and a half-truth, instead.

"It wasn't the right time, dear."

Her face turned to him, her eyes searching his. He felt exposed, like her eyes were piercing him.

"And now...?"

"That remains to be seen. Why are you here?", he countered, stepping back to put a more comfortable distance between them.

"I came to see you, because..." She swallowed hard, and Alastor watched her throat, the soft swell of her breasts under her modest blouse, the slight rise of her belly. "When I arrived in hell, I felt... weird. I thought it was because of all the changes, this new body and... generally being here. But it didn't go away, this.... feeling. I made friends with a lovely imp couple, they took me in after I fell. The wife, Millie, took me to a doctor because she got worried when I couldn't stop throwing up..."

Her face grew hot, a flush spreading across her cheeks, her ears folding back against her head.

"Alastor, I'm pregnant."

A loud bang rang through the hallway as Alastor dropped his cane and a deafening feedback noise filled the room. For the first time in what must have been decades, his face betrayed him completely, the smile ripping at the sewn edges as it dropped violently. He felt dizzy and his head was spinning.

"Impossible.", he breathed, the word almost getting stuck in his throat. The very notion was ridiculous, unheard of - clearly that must be a crude joke. Alastor started to laugh, though sounding not as amused and booming as he would've hoped, but more hysterical than anything else.

She stayed silent, looking at him with sad, but serious and almost pleading eyes as the truthfulness of her confession began to sink in and his laughter slowly died. He took a tentative step forward, a million questions running through his head, the sheer amount overwhelming his usually so precise mind.

"So, a month ago, it...", he stopped, feeling the corners of his mouth pull wider.

"...yes. The doctor told me there are only a handful similar cases like this known since hell was created... The circumstances are 'too specific' and it normally takes a vast amount of intimate interactions' between a hellbound sinner and a living, fertile human he said... Seems like you knocked me up with one round, buster." She wrung her hands, her smile forced and unsure. "Listen, Alastor... I know it sounds impossible. I mean, I couldn't believe it at first when he told me so I understand you can't, too... but I don't expect anything, I really don't. I just... I wanted to see you again, and-and you deserve to know, and..."

"Darling, hush.", Alastor interrupted, a sense of clarity taking hold of his chaotic mind. He had never felt a desire for a family, not in his lifetime nor in his death. Partners were liabilities and a distraction, relationships nuisances if they strayed beyond the borders of business or at the very most friendly aquaintances. He had no need for things like these in the past, looking down on people desperate to seek out partners, claiming to be lonely when in truth they were just weak or simply starving for a touch of the 'opposite sex' to make up for their own inadequacy.

Now, faced with the reality of fatherhood in a matter of minutes and the prospect of his life being bound to another - one who, undoubtedly, bore his child, no less - Alastor would be lying if he had claimed a part of him didn't absolutely reel at the prospect. A responsibility greater than his own had just fallen into his lap - a vulnerability he never asked for and certainly didn't expect.

But.

A part of him would come into the world, no matter whether it would look human, or demonic like him, or whatever strange combination of them both: This child would be proof of him. Him, not anyone else. There would be a person dependent on him for guidance and protection, a legacy he would be allowed to leave, a lineage that could one day claim that he, Alastor, had been the founding cause. His legacy. His blood and his seed had created another being against all rules and logic, an offspring, maybe a girl, maybe it would resemble him, or her, or even... his mother.

Despite the incredulity and the sheer panic the revelation brought, the longer he looked at the tiny dormouse in front of him, the more he realized how similar her traits were to his own mother's. Soft, but determined. Sad, but brave. Young but aged.

No, this hadn't been just some fleeting fling - Alastor had to believe in fate, given what she told him. There had been a reason why he didn't seal the deal that night. Why he had agreed to her request so easily. The more Alastor thought about the potential of a shared offspring, along with a loyal partner on his side, about the what-ifs and could-bes, the more appealing and pleasant the future appeared. She was carrying a being he created, one that had his essence – All the more stronger his grin widened, stretching so far it caused his cheeks to ache, but his blooming glee knew no bounds. He saw, to his own surprise, not a weakness or vulnerability.

But his greatest achievement.

With a laugh, this time sincere and booming and loud instead of hysterical, he picked her up on her waist, knocking the air out of her in a gasp, and swung her around several times.

"O-oh! Oh my goodness!", she stuttered, eyes wide and brows furrowed. "Alastor, calm down!"

"Oh, no no no, I simply can't! Dear, do you have any idea what a marvel you have wrought!?", he exclaimed in delight, setting her back down and bringing both hands up to her cheeks. "We've created a magnificent abomination!"

Her head shook as she chuckled, still nervous but with an edge of relief in her voice. "That's certainly one way of saying it. But... are... are you saying that... you are okay with it? That you..."

"What, dear?", he cooed, her big eyes shining hopefully as her ears twitched curiously. His chest swelled with affection, and he gently squeezed her cheeks between his hands.

"Does a daddy on your side scare you, darling?"

"N-No-oh."

The title invoked a peculiar reaction, and he made a mental note to use it again soon enough, as her cheeks flushed in a dusty rose. Alastor felt an unfamiliar and somehow primal pleasure at the sight of it, a surge of happiness in his chest, the warmth of it nearly too much. He pulled her face against his, smothering her with a kiss. He wasn't familiar with such embraces, but she felt like she was specifically molded to fit perfectly into him, her ears flicking with every beat of her racing heart.

There were tears welling in her beautiful eyes, and as he kissed her cheeks and brushed them away with his thumbs. Oh yes, Alastor was filled with a new kind of giddy excitement.

"Come on, dear, let's not waste time to spread the good news!", he exclaimed, unable to reign his euphoric mood, and before she could comment on his actions, he reached out and lifted her over his shoulder in one fluid movement, ignoring her startled squawk. The look of utter bewilderment on her face almost made him break out into more laughter, but he was already out the door, ready to take his child's mother, who was, without a doubt in his mind, bound to him forever with a force much stronger than any deal he could've made, downstairs to tell the news to his fellow friends, who would have no choice but to learn what a truly dangerous deal looked like.

[thelastofhyde]

ii. santorini.

pairing. tourguide!joel miller x fem!reader. series synopsis. on the brink of undergoing a life-altering change, you runaway from your problems in the only way any sane person can: embarking on a mediterranean cruise. there you meet joel miller, a grumpy, private tour-guide, who just so happens to be tasked with touring you through each stop on your cruise. from greek goddesses to roman ruins, you have ten days to avoid your fate. maybe a frowning, southern, sex-on-legs of a man is just what the doctor ordered. chapter summary. tensions are high as you and joel spend your first day together exploring the popular island of santorini. back on the boat, joel gets a glimpse at more than he bargained for. series warnings. no use of y/n, set in 2015, no apocalypse au, cruise!au, rom-com, enemies-ish to lovers, tour-guide!joel, unspecified age gap, depictions/discussions of grief, angst, fluff, a whole load of smut, a lot of cheesy stereotypical romance tropes bc i just wanna see joel not suffer ( too much ) <3 chapter warnings. mild smut ( female masturbation, mentions of oral sex + piv sex ), bickering, alcohol, mild angst, so much cheese it'll turn you lactose intolerant!! btw joel hates santorini and he makes that known, but none of his opinions reflect my own ( please don't be mean to me over things characters say <33 ) word count. 7.9k hyde’s input. the majority of this chapter was written with a mixture of medicine flowing through my veins, it's a miracle it's even intelligible. apologies for the wait, the holidays and health issues got in the way <3 as always, i hope you enjoy, comments an dreblogs are always appreciated !! previous chapter - next chapter - series masterlist

It is a known fact that your name and late rarely exist within the same sentence.

The mere thought of being late fills you with a sickness you cannot cure. The extremes you’ll go to avoid it know no bounds. From arriving four hours before a flight, to waiting in your car a whole hour before entering a lecture hall, adulthood is a phase in which you’d sworn to repair the damage of a childhood worth of not arriving late.

Late to school, late to birthday parties, late to dentist appointments.

It wasn’t that you were a particularly difficult child, running rampant around the house as your mother tried to dress you, or your father tried to feed you. Quite the contrary, really. Often, it was little-you who chased around after them, and who waited by the door, school bag in hand, tapping your foot with every second that ticked by on the clock. You were too young and hadn’t the ability nor the empathy to understand that your parents were held up with sorting through things directly influenced by your existence, like cleaning up the messes you left at the breakfast table, or fixing the doorknob you and your sister broke in an intense game of hide and seek.

Nowadays, you can count on one hand the times you’ve been late.

First, you were late to your own surprise birthday party, but that was down to you getting stuck an extra hour at work. It was out of your control.

Then, there’d been your graduation ceremony. Your father missed an exit and ended up taking you on a mystery tour of the city, trying to find the next turn that led to your campus. Again, out of your control.

The third time is the one you remember panicking over the most, knee bouncing uncontrollably with nerves as you sat squeezed between two strangers on a plane. Your sister, barely halfway through her third trimester, had gone into labour, and where were you? Stumbling around drunk on a private beach in Cancún, mumbling along to the lyrics of some early 2000s classic you forget the name of. Your niece, all 4 and a half pounds of her, had decided now was her time to shine and there was nothing, not even the 4 weeks she had yet to grow in utero, that was going to stop her. By the time you arrived, mascara smudged eyes and with the stench of tequila still on your skin, she was laying peacefully in her incubator, the tiniest little fingers clenched into fists and a name tag around her wrist. This too was out of your control.

But the fourth time you’re late, as you stride urgently across the wooden decking of the ship, weaving in and out of lounge chairs and polo-neck wearing crew members, it’s completely within your control.

Yet, it’s not entirely your fault.

An alarm that never went off. A game of hide-and-seek with your purse. An unfortunate slip on bathroom tiles adding another bruise to your knees. An elevator that refused to travel faster than the speed of a snail. It’s as though Lady Luck had set out in favour of being against you, doing her utmost to ensure you arrive exactly seven minutes past your deadline. His deadline.

Best be on the deck by 7 am, darlin’, or I’m dockin’ without ya.

Your head whips from one side to another, eyes finding a familiar figure amongst the few passengers meeting their own private guides. It’s the same man from yesterday, out on the balcony, the memory of him cheering his champagne and shooting a tipsy smile your way replaying. Only now he’s clad in plaid, with a frown etched into his forehead as he stares at his watch. There’s another man, hanging off his arm, fusing with the collar of his shirt.

“She’s late,” you overhear him say, voice firm and leaking with annoyance.

“Maybe she just slept in!” The man next to him is cheerier, tired eyes full of optimism, even as he turns his head and stifles a yawn. “Give her a few minutes.”

“What kind of shitty tour guide sleeps in?” Balcony-Man huffs, and you can’t help but think of your niece and her pouty face whenever she fails to get her own way. “Does she think I’d not rather be asleep too? Lazy c-”

“See? This is why I told you to eat that damn croissant before we left.” The taller of them seems to snap, rolling his eyes. “Brighten up, Bill, or so help me God you’ll be leaving this boat a divorcee.”

Trying to tune their voices out, as the guilt of prying crawls its way into your bones, your gaze points down at your feet. The very same heels you’d worn last night, pretty as they may leave you, have you cursing at the Sun and the Moon. If you’d have just worn your sneakers, maybe you could have ran up the stairs instead of taking the snail-evator.

Joel, tour guide, Signore Miller’s voice- though your imagination can’t quite reach his level of arrogance- rears its irritating head through your mind, recalling his words from last night. Wear somethin’ a little more… practical. That had been enough to awaken that stubborn mule inside of you, hell-bent on proving him wrong.

But now, late, and with him nowhere in sight, your heels seem to have had the opposite effect. They’ve proved him right.

Which leaves you here, moping so pathetically you’re incapable of appreciating the shine of a rising sun over the horizon of aqua blue water.

Five minutes, you decide. That’s how long you’ll allow yourself to dwell in self-pity. Then, you’ll trek your way over to the Excelsior lounge, hit up the breakfast buffet, and await the general disembarking time.

Who knows, maybe you’ll get a call to say there’s a miraculous spot opened up on one of the tour groups.

If not, you’ll be fine! You’ve travelled alone before, you’ve got an all-inclusive data plan on your phone and you’re pretty well-acquainted with the less-than-accommodating features of Google Maps. You don’t need help, or a tour guide, much less one as blood-boiling, skin-prickling, irritating as Joel Mil-

“Wasn’t sure how ya like your coffee, but you look like a milk, two sugars kind of girl to me.”

Speak of the Devil and he shall appear. Or, in this case, think of him.

Turning a little too fast, you stumble a step or two back, and, sure enough, there he is. A tight fitting, dark grey t-shirt stretched over the swell of his biceps, a pair of washed-out denims, and two well-worn running shoes, one on each foot. Trailing up the swell of his tanned neck, you count the freckles up to his eyes, and find there’s bags under them. The growth of hair on his face is just as unkempt as yesterday, yet already it seems to have grown longer, making the litter of greys stand out more. The hair that sits atop his head is damp, and the strands that have managed to dry are being messed around by the morning air. He’s still got that ever-present frown stamped into his forehead, yet his mouth doesn’t seem to curl into a snarl as he calls your name.

You must stare a moment or two past his comfort level, for he clears his throat and nods down at his hand. Two to-go cups, the smallest streams of steam floating out the hole in each lid.

He’s extending one out- the one in his right hand- towards you. “If you’d rather black, you can take min-”

“No!” You snap back into your own body, all too quickly and all too volatile. Clear your throat, and then try again, this time with a little less of that im being held at gunpoint shake in your voice. “No… Thank you. It’s fine- Milk is fine.”

It’s more than fine.

In fact, he’s gotten it spot on. Down to the number of sugars you take.

But, still stubborn, you yearn to not give him the satisfaction of being right so early in the day, and instead settle for accepting the coffee out his hand. You welcome the golden warmth eagerly, eyes unable to resist slipping shut as you take your first sip. When they reopen, you find Joel watching you, intently. Purposefully, as though you’re something to be studied.

Clearing your throat, you glance to the side and spot Balcony-Man and his partner greeting an apologetic woman.

“Thanks for the, uh,” his stare is intimidating your nerves, setting you on edge of something you’re all to eager to jump off. “Coffee. Yeah. You didn’t have to… I mean, I actually thought you’d, you know, uh-”

“You thought I left without ya.” He states. All you can do is nod. “I could’ve. I did warn you not to be late.”

“You did.”

“I also told you to wear somethin’ other than them heels.”

“I know.”

“Yet here you are, late and in heels. You’re not very good at following orders.” He exhales something akin to a chuckle, as devoid of humour as it may be, and you swear he’s suddenly closer than you remember, knuckles brushing against your own as he bumps his paper cup against yours. “Just what am I gonna do with ya, huh?”

For a moment, you swear your heart has leaped from your chest and up to your throat, threatening to choke you with the beat of it. There’s no sense you can make of it, this reaction he rouses, a heat you can’t control creeping down your loins as you drag in a whiff of some manly cologne, the kind you’d usually turn your nose up at for being too overbearing. Yet, on him, it’s not. On him it’s just right, like he was born with pine soaked skin, and a tobacco stained kiss, and-

Before you can think of pulling in another breath, Joel’s stepped back, allowing a cool breeze to pass between you and get a hold of your senses.

“C’mon, we’re slotted in for the first tender that leaves for shore.”

“Oh my God.”

You’re half certain Joel’s growing sick of hearing those three words roll off your tongue. He’s likely felt this way since it first left your mouth, feet struggling to safely step out onto the dock as your mind became enchanted by the picturesque view in front of you. Only the burn of his hand meeting your lower back, nudging you ahead to make space for himself and the other passengers to step off the tender boat, was capable of dragging you back into your own body, the wanderlust that had gripped your soul yearning to be free to explore every building that sits carved into rock, every water-taxi that flows idly on cristaline water, every step that winds up and up and up the island’s cliff where, at the top, civilisation seems to lie.

The port you’ve docked on is rather small, with naught more than two docking strips and a walkway of shops and confection stands, with boats that find no space along the docking strips tying themselves to any safety they may find over the expanse of the walkway. It is no wonder the cruise floats safely out in deeper waters, alongside several other cruise lines, with no space for such large vessels. And, yet, the port is alive with something. The ground seems to pulse, like a beat of a heart, and the air, as fresh as the grass after heavy rainfall, almost dances its way down your lungs. Voices swim all around you, tourists scrambling past each other, fighting in a race towards something you’ve yet to identify.

“So this is Gialos, also known as the Old Port of Fira.” Somewhere, behind you perhaps, Joel’s voice pipes up, a speech so rehearsed and robotic, a part of your wonders how many times he’s recited it, how many people he’s recited it to. The other part of you, however, is much too fixated on the stairs ahead to pay him true attention, eyes following as two men and several donkeys descend. “That, up there, is Fira, the capital of Santorini. We’re going to need to take a cable- Are you even listening to me?”

“Yes!” You’re quick to react, a defensive rise in your voice. He meets it with a deadpan look and the crossing of his arms over his chest, which quickly becomes something you wish he wouldn’t do as you watch the tight fabric of his shirt stretch itself thin over the bulge of his arms. “No. Sorry, I’m just… Wow.”

You hope he appreciates the restraint you show towards repeating those three dreaded words again.

“You have all day to stare,” his words trip over his own irritated scoff, and you bite back a question of why he’s a guide if he seems to hate it so much, fearful he’s too honest to not tell you a truth that may hurt your fragile feelings. A truth where it is not so much his job he dislikes, but rather, your presence and all that it brings. “Right now, we need to move. Don’t wanna spend all day waitin’ in line now, do ya?”

This need for speed that hooks the other tourists seems to filter over into your guide, who’s forcing you forward, that heat of his palm now hovering inches away from your lower back. It’s enough to lead you where he pleases. As a pair, you weave in and out small clusters of people, till the space between you both and the large gathering crowd slowly diminishes. It is there where his once telepathic leading fails, with Joel turning left towards it as you stray right, over to the ascending pathway of stairs.

“Where are you going?” His tone is offended, almost, as he comes to a halt and watches you fail to do the same, to notice the space between you both and correct it like some puppy who’s been called to heel by its master.

“Where am I going?” The question, at first, is one you mistake as rhetorical. Staring back at him with an equaled confusion, you gesture to the stairway, as though it is the most obvious answer. Because, well, where else could you have been heading? He said so himself, that up there is Fira, the capital of Santorini, and you’ll be damned if you don’t get to see it. “Where are you going?”

“To the cable cars, that’ll take us up the island.”

Above the crowd of people, hanging over doors of small businesses, lay several signs. CABLE CARS - 6€ ! stands out, impossible to miss. Symbols you scarcely recognise sit beneath it, in smaller text, and you assume it’s Greek. In the distance, you spy the movement of the mobile boxes, people being carted up the length of the cliff at a speed that promises them a journey of mere minutes.

“Oh.” So, perhaps his option makes more sense than your own far longer, more tiring one. Still, stubborn as a mule, you double down on your decision to take the scenic route, inching closer towards the first step. Your guide, still in the face, refuses to move, daring eyes willing you to continue. “You want us to take the lazy man’s route? You go ahead, I’ll take the stairs and meet you at the top.”

You press one foot up onto the first step, weary of where you rest the point of your heel.

Glancing a few steps further up, there’s the unmistakable sight of a mound of brown substance, no doubt excreted out of one of the donkeys that walk ahead, tourists mounted on their poor backs.

“I don’t think you understand,” he finally inches closer, if only slightly, hands clenched at his side. “There’s five hundred and eighty-eight steps until you reach the top.”

The number is more daunting than you expect, and you pray he can’t read this on your face. “Only? I’ll be up in no time then!”

You feel more than see the way Joel’s eyes travel down the expanse of you, stuttering almost over the curvature of your chest, the dips at your hips, till they rest at your feet. The question hangs loose between you, unspoken yet evident.

In those heels?

“Listen, Joel,” taking a second, third, and fourth step, you aim for a literal higher ground, staring down below as he continues to drift closer and closer towards the stairway. “If you’re not fit for the task, or the climb’s no good for your knees, you can just say it, there’s no shame. Like I said, I’ll meet you at the top. Promise I won’t even report the fact my private guide abandoned me in favour of his own comfort.”

Defeat has never come easy.

Well, to phrase it better towards the truth, acceptance of defeat has never come easy.

There was always something more to be said, another excuse to be given for any of your shortcomings. When you’d been turned away from the school’s soccer team, you’d told yourself it was because you were a girl- ignoring the fact three girls in your year made the cut. When you’d lost an arduous game of Monopoly, you’d sworn you’d caught your sister sneaking notes out of the banker’s pile into her own. When you’d been beaten, round after round, by your own niece at Mario Kart, you’d stuck your tongue out at her and told her you let her win out of pity.

All that had been before, of course, back when you still roamed school hallways, when your sister sat across from you at the dining table, when your niece still laughed freely, wildly, celebrating her own victories with an over-the-top, uncoordinated dance around the living room.

As changed as things may be, defeat is still your foe.

It is that reason alone that you bite back a complaint.

You’d enjoyed the initial moments of your trek. Maybe it was the salty air in your lungs, or the beautiful views of your surroundings, or the idle grumbling coming from Joel, a few paces behind you, kicking up dirt under his feet with every step he travelled up. Whatever the reason, adrenaline had been flowing, into your heart and through your veins, covering every square inch of your body, a tingling of nerves from the tip of your toes to the top of your spine.

But, by the 10 minute mark, a dull ache forms in your feet. Each step of your heel feels more life threatening than the last, as the stairs grow slippier, dustier, and well-worn the further up you advanced. By stair who-knows-how-may, you take a near fatal tumble backwards, the crunch of crumbling rock threatening to be the last thing you hear. Till he appears behind you, fast as light, huffing out a breath as you smack down against his solid chest.

“Mind your step.” From anyone else, you would mistake it as a sign of care. From Joel, you know better than to think it’s anything beyond a humourless taunt.

You try to keep count of the steps, from then on, an effort to motivate yourself to move faster with each ten-pace you count. By 50, you lose your place and begin counting all over again.

The journey is difficult in other ways, too, with the constant passing of donkeys who obligate you to stand aside and make way for them. And the distant movement of cable cars, firing up and sliding down more times than you can keep track of.

When a particular step proves itself too steep, you can no longer hold back and, finally, a hiss slips out between your clenched teeth as pain shoots up your ankle, the leather of your shoe rubbing even harder into your brittle skin, threatening the promise of a blister yet to fully swell. Pushing the pain down, alongside a complaint, you take another step. Hiss. Then another, hiss. You can fight it no longer, bending at the waist to slip off your heel and examine the irritated skin.

Sure enough, it’s been rubbed raw, broken and spilling a small pool of blood.

Behind you comes an exasperated groan and, before you can straighten yourself to even register what’s happening, Joel barges past you and the figure of him up ahead slowly diminishes the faster he climbs up hill.

“Hey!” You call after him, hobbling to slip your shoe back on, but it’s to no avail.

He’s long gone, growing further and further out of your reach with each passing minute.

Cursing him under your breath, you decide to hell with the no complaints of his preferred regard for his own comfort. He’s abandoned you, injured and hobbling up the steps, all because he has the patience of a toddler who’s been waiting far too long to go potty.

“Wear somethin’ a little more sensible…” You’re bound to seem deranged to any passers by, half hopping up the steps, mumbling to yourself in a mockery of his deep voice “Yeah, right, how bout I shove somethin’ a little more sensible up your ass. Oh, what’s that? There’s no room up there with the massive stick you’re already carryin-”

“A local man warned me bout ya, on my way back down. Said there was some no-good girl casting out bad juju.” You freeze, foot stopped in mid-air. Shifting your gaze up ahead, you find Joel there, skipping a step every so often as he grows closer and closer. At his side, dangling from two fingers, sits a plastic bag. “Told him it ain’t no juju or curses you’re casting, just throwin’ a little tantrum.”

Like a fish out of water, all you can do is stare at him, wide eyes and mouth agape.

Joel pays your silence no mind, almost delighting in it. With a pop and a crack from his knees, he crouches down before you, holding out the palm of his hand.

“C’mon,” he mutters, pointing towards your injured foot. “Lemme see.”

You’re hesitant, at first, but ultimately lift it and let him curl his grip around it, holding you in place as the shoe slips off you. A tut meets your ears as his eyes meet the bloodied mess, and you watch how he contemplates, for a moment or two, before wetting his thumb with his tongue and swiping it over your broken skin.

It stings, like salt in a wound or a bee’s stinger through skin, and you try to flinch back, retract yourself from his hold. But Joel’s strong, resilient, nails biting at the flesh of your ankle to keep you in place. His free hand digs into the plastic bag he’d discarded at his side and pulls out a white box. Fiddling with it for a short period, he manages to open it at last and slips out a bandaid. He rips that open a lot quicker, using his teeth, and slips it over your open wound perfectly, thumb and pointer finger smoothing it around the curve of your heel.

“D’ya see now why I told you to not wear those things?” You feel like a child at his words, reprimanded like you once were for touching your mother’s curling iron. “And why I said we should take the cable car?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you refuse to meet his eyes. But he just won’t let you be, craning his own neck to infiltrate the space you stare off into. There’s a pleased look on his face, smugness pulling at the right corner of his mouth. Alarmingly, you think of how it’s the closest you’ve gotten to seeing him smile.

You continue your pursuit of silence, repeating a mantra of how you don’t care that he’d tried to look out for your comfort, or how he’d then tried to save you the effort of an uphill battle, or how his hand, big and warm and rough at the fingertips, is still holding your foot in place, absentmindedly rubbing your ankle in a circular motion.

“Look at ya, gone all quiet on me,” that corner of his lip curls higher. You register the rustling of the bag, his hand digging back inside it. “Ain’t one for bein’ put in your place, are you?”

Out comes his hand once more, though this time it’s not a box of bandaids. Now, resting firm in his grasp, sits a mixture of navy blue dyed cotton, stitched atop a flat, thick layer of a straw-like material. A slip-on canvas shoe. Joel doesn’t await permission, nor does he even ask for it. He simply takes charge, slipping it onto your foot, mindful as he straightens out the back to lay against your heel.

“Other foot, up.”

Switching feet, you stumble as your weight completely shifts onto your injured side. Your hands, reaching out to stabilise your swaying body, are quickly directed by his own to rest atop his head, curls of brown threading between your fingers. You contemplate asking what products he uses to achieve locks so smooth and shiny, then rethink it as soon as you imagine his reply of a disinterested grunt and a snarky ain’t use anythin’ but dirt water and a splash o’ whiskey.

“How’s it feel?”

Soft, you almost reply, then realise he’s asking about the shoe.

With a wiggle of your toes, you tell him it’s fine, and leave it at that. He doesn’t need to know they’re surprisingly comfortable.

Joel rises with a bit of a struggle, yet refuses the help you offer. Rough hands scoop up your discarded heels, tossing them into the bag, and then he straightens his back, lets out a noise of discomfort, before nodding up ahead.

“C’mon, only got a hundred or so to go. We’ll be up in no time.”

The sun sits high in the sky when you reach the city of Fira.

Crossing over that last step, 588 painted in white across it, you huff out a sigh, exhaustion aching you out of any enjoyment of your victory over the stairway from hell. Before you can even utter a word of your thirst, Joel is already reaching into his bag of wonders, unscrewing the lid off a bottle of water and passing it to you. Grateful, you take a sip, and lament the few drops that spill down your chin.

At least they don’t go to complete waste, cooling your skin ever so slightly.

It’s a shame to see Joel start moving again, moments before you’re even ready to gain back your breath, but you follow after him, nonetheless, mindful to not press your foot too hard down. Through streets he winds, past shopkeepers he walks. Eventually, after a few minutes, you ask him where you’re both heading.

“To catch a coach,” his hand moves quickly, tugging you closer as a bicycle shoots past behind you. Your own find themselves against his chest, and realise it is nothing like his hair. Solid, warm, wide. It’s almost a shame to lower them back down to your side. “Less you think you can walk from here to Oia, too.”

Truth be told, you don’t know where Oia is.

But you do know your walking for the day is over, happy to follow Joel onto the coach. You take the aisle seat, he’s by the window. Across from you both sits a couple, young and giggling into one another’s ears, as though the sounds of their joy is sacred to none but them. A pang of envy thumps your soul, and you quickly turn your face.

Only to find that Joel’s is grey.

Not the hair that lines it but, rather, his whole face, paled and blood-drained. It’s a sickly image, and one that’s quick to get your heart racing.

“Are you okay?” Any thought of keeping your composure becomes mute as you hear your own voice, a treacherous shake to it that gives your panic away. “You look…” There is no word kind enough for you to use to relay the image of him, so you lock your lips.

It takes a few seconds for you to get a reply, as your hand moves up to feel his forehead. It’s sweaty, warm, and you move to pull your hand back when he’s holding it firm in place, eyes slipping shut. “‘S cold. You’re cold,” seems to be his explanation. “I’m fine, it’s just- Carsick.”

“You get carsick, yet you work on a cruise.”

“Not the same. Ship’s big, somethin’ bout the size and my own visibility, ‘s what stops me getting seasick.”

You sit like that the rest of the coach, your hand pressed to his forehead, his eyes slipped shut.

“What’s your favourite stop on the cruise?”

As it turns out, Oia is exactly what you’d pictured Santorini to be.

White washed houses, deep blue domes for rooftops, turquoise waters, all for as far as the eye can see. Joel complains, more than tells you, of the rise in tourism over the years, of how it’s turned the beautiful village into a party-town for idiots abroad, disregarding the clean environment, shamelessly blocking paths to snap a frame-worthy shot, raising prices to the ceiling. When you ask him if he thinks he’s in part to blame, if people like him are to blame- running tours, bringing guests onto the island, earning a wage off the visiting of such a place- he grumbles out something about missing breakfast, needing lunch.

So you find a cafe. Or, more, Joel leads you to one. He greets the doorman, with a wave and a pat on the back, before sauntering his way through to a back terrace, overlooking the whole village, the water perfectly framing it. Stepping out and sitting down, the view robs the very breath out of your lungs.

It’s like sitting inside a postcard.

Joel asks if you like Greek food.

You tell him you’ve never had it.

He orders for you both, a mixture of different plates, and swears he’ll find something you’ll like.

It turns out you’re rather fond of baklava.

“Florence.” Joel’s taken his time to answer, staring at you like a deer caught in headlights. Disbelief more than fear in his eyes, you have to wonder if it’s the first time someone’s thought to ask him, in all his years as a guide. Naturally, this leads you to wondering how many years that is. “It’s a real site. Full of history, a real story to be told.” He tilts a ceramic dish your way, eyes glancing down in an offering. You follow them, and spot olives. Shake your head, no, then smile, thanks. He shrugs, more for me, and pops two into his mouth. “There’s this…” he pauses to chew. “This library.”

“A library?”

“‘S not just a library.” He slips out the olive’s pip and raises another into his mouth. You try not to think about how thick his fingers look, rolling the remaining briny green pebbles around in the pot. “There’s a cinema built inside it. Plays some classic films. I always- or, I try to go whenever we dock.”

It’s hard to picture Joel inside a cinema, something about the setting too busy, too loud to place his scowling face in. Would he be the kind to have a favourite seat, perfectly picked to optimise the sound quality? Does he speak animatedly, excited any time he recognises an actor? Or is he a shusher, the kind to roll his eyes when someone dares to even clear their throat?

A part of you wants to ask him if your tour involves a trip to this library.

Something tells you it’s not a place he likes to share, though. It’s his own little corner, safe to sneak a moment of selfish indulgence amidst a week of catering to another’s needs.

“A cinema inside a library?” A waiter interrupts you, asks if everything’s alright. Joel orders another serving of baklava. “Isn’t that a bit of an oxymoron?”

“Yeah.” For a moment, you think you see a smile creep across his lips. “Suppose it is.”

Another interruption comes in the form of your ringtone, rippling the water in your glass as your phone vibrates upon the table. You’re well aware of how Joel spots the word Mum displayed across your screen. Just like you’re aware he sees how you swipe down on your screen and switch on aeroplane mode.

Before he can ask any questions, or the sudden silence can become too deafening, you throw out another question. “And your least favourite?”

“Least favourite stop?” You nod, affirmative, and he needs no time to reply. “Here.”

“Here?! How come?”

The baklava arrives, as if on cue, and you point down at it, as though it is reason enough to be enamoured with the island. It seems to do little to convince him, his hand reaching out to push the plate closer to you, inviting you to indulge yourself.

“Compared to the other stops, Santorini’s bland.” He says it when your mouth is too occupied to protest, stuffed full with layer after layer of pastry. “Kind of like a diamond, y’know? Real pretty to look at, empties your wallet, and, at the end of the day, ain’t much you can do with it.”

“People propose with diamonds.” You point out, and cough as a flake of pastry hits the back of your throat.

Joel’s already passing you your glass of water before you even think to reach for it.

“People propose with rings. Diamonds are just custom, not a guarantee.”

Sunset arrives with no warning, a hue of fiery orange melting down into the calm waters on the horizon. It’s Joel who makes the call to head back, one glance at his watch enough to tell you the last chance to catch a coach is nigh. It’s only as you go to call for the bill that he tells you it’s covered and you realise his earlier trip to the bathroom had been a ruse to go pay.

The trip back is calmer, quieter, with the coach full of sunkissed and heat exhausted tourists.

Again, you take the aisle seat, and Joel, the window.

Keeping an eye on him is easy, switching your gaze towards the approaching darkness of the night sky calling upon the street lights anytime he meets your eyes. When you notice the increase in breaths and the paling of his skin, you wordlessly unscrew the cap off a bottle and slot it into his hand, inviting him to finish off the last sips of your water.

Skipping out on a trip down memory stairway, you quietly follow him into the cable car and, when you reach the Old Port, you try your best to block out his smug remark of how easy and fast the ride was. A feat which becomes easier as you stumble halfway up the dock and turn back.

Like hours before, as you first stepped off the tender, your mouth falls agape. Only, this time, wider. The view of the island lit up in all its glory is enough to leave you breathless, hands scrambling to fish out your phone, open the camera and-

“You gettin’ on or what?” Joel calls out from behind, and you find him waiting on board one of the tenders, hand held out towards you.

It’s a demand, more than it is an offer, to hurry up. The collective of other passengers are watching the interaction, and a feeling you’ve come to know all too well crawls its way into your veins.

A burden, holding them all up, that’s what you are.

The feeling follows you back, as you slip into a damp seat and watch as the boat carries you further and further from the island, it’s lights twinkling in a way that chokes you up, drains you out, eyes stinging from more than just the salty air. You’ll love it, I swear! The memory plays out in your head, those words gushed at you. Hands squeezing your cheeks, a smile blinding you under its brightness. Just wait till you see it at night, the lights shine over it like stars!

You blink.

A tear pools at the corner of your eye.

“Here, look,” something nudges you. It’s Joel, inching his phone into your view. Through blurred sight, you glance at it. And find yourself, centre frame, lit only by the moon. In the back lies the whole skyline of Santorini, lights reflecting down onto the waters below. “Best view you can get, the whole island in one shot.”

Afraid to hear your own voice, you smile.

He answers by pointing his phone back at you, snapping another photo.

Back on the cruise, the two of you part ways, with Joel telling you to meet him in the same bar, same time as the night before.

Dinner had been part of your plans. With a glance over the listed restaurants on board, the ache in your tired bones asks you to stay in bed and make use of the room service. You listen, order something light, easy. It arrives in under 10 minutes and your hunger is satisfied sitting out on the balcony, watching the dark waves roll past.

Phoning your mother is the next port o'call.

Unlike with your food, that takes longer than 10 minutes. Much longer, and involves you countlessly reassuring her that yes, you’re okay, and no, you don’t need her to fly out and meet you in Naples.

“I’m a big girl,” you even throw in a laugh, hoping it’ll ease the worry lines you can picture splayed over your mother’s face. “I think I can climb up a mountain without my mum’s help.”

“Honey, you know that’s not what why I’m worri-”

“Did you know you can get carsick but, at the same time, not seasick?”

You hang up shortly after, with a promise to try your best to answer when she calls tomorrow, instead of hours later, when she should be fast asleep.

The time on your phone tells you there’s still forty minutes until you need to meet Joel. The image of that grandiose bathtub flashes before your eyes and, in record timing, you’re sinking into scalding waters, a complimentary bath bomb dumped in and granting you the childish gift of bubbles.

You try to relax, at first.

There’s no need to wet your hair, so you indulge yourself. Lay your head back, close your eyes. Feel your muscles loosen with the warmth, ignore the sting of soap in your blistering heel. Your hands struggle to find a resting place, until they meet your thighs. They sit still, for a moment or two, before one slips down, inching into the crease of where your legs meet.

Something stirs in your core, comes alive as you think of how long it’s been since you last felt someone. A few months, it has to be. A fellow graduate, if you remember correctly, that stupid robe still on his shoulders as he let his mouth come down on you.

Your hand is soon on your core, before you really notice, mind on a mission to recall the hazy encounter. When you think of his tongue, messy yet eager, your finger’s already on your clit, pressing against it with a tease of pleasure. When you think of his cock, uncut and thicker than your ex, splitting you open on his bedroom floor, your hips cant up against yourself, chasing friction. When you rewind how soft Joel’s hair had been between your fingers, your free hand grips one of your breasts, fingers pinching at your nipple.

Your eyes snap open.

Joel’s hair.

Joel.

Something you should not be thinking of right now, hand buried between your thighs.

You wait a few seconds, remind yourself of the graduate’s face.

His blue eyes, your fingers roll over your nipple.

His blonde hair, your legs spread wider.

Joel’s solid chest, your fingers dip inside your cunt.

Your breath is shaky, Joel’s annoyed groan echoes.

The shame of it, of thinking of him, is almost as tantalising as touching yourself, fucking your own hole full with as much of your fingers the angle will allow. It’s a one time thing, you justify. You just need to get it out your system. One and done, cum and done. No more of Joel Miller between your thighs, this is the closest he’ll get.

Someone knocks at your door.

You nearly miss it over the sound of your breathing, the pounding of your heart.

“Who is it?” You don’t like how weak you sound, but it’s too late to take it back now.

Another knock.

“Can I come in?”

A hand still between your thighs, orgasm titering on the edge, body fully submerged in lukewarm water. “No!”

“Ain’t safe to leave your door unlocked. Anybody could walk in- Jesus!”

You’ve never screamed louder.

Joel takes up most of the bathroom doorway, same clothes save for the shirt that’s got two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled halfway up his arms. You’re pressed right back into the bathtub, as physically far from him as you can get, knees pressed up to your chest, ankles crossed over.

In Joel’s defence, he’s quick to turn away, presenting you with a view of his back. A hand runs through his hair.

“Why are you in my room?!” You inch even further back, the water suddenly dropping several degrees.

“I asked to come in!”

“And I told you not to!”

“Well obviously I didn’t hear that!”

“Why are you in my room?” You’re back to your first question, eyeing up your towel.

It’s across the room, on the bathroom sink. No way for you to reach it without the risk of him seeing you reflected on something.

“You were late. Came to check if ya tripped on them heels and broke your neck.”

“I,” you’re not sure what time it is with your phone sitting by the bed, charging. That's now five times you've been late in adulthood. “Didn’t realise the time. I can meet you at the bar in ten minutes.”

He nods, and you watch him take a step, then immediately pause. “You know, I’ve heard a few things from passengers…” You may not see his face, but you swear there’s that half-smirk, smug look upon it. It’s practically dripping off his words. “The shower head, fourth setting. Seems to get the job done for most ladies on board.”

Grabbing the closest thing in reach- a bar of soap- you launch it and watch it bounce off his irritatingly wide shoulders. “Get OUT!”

You make it to the Tipsy Byson in 15 minutes.

Dressed more appropriately than the night before, your flared jeans and crop top garner less stares. It’s just as busy, if not busier, yet it’s not hard to spot Joel on a barstool, nursing a glass of something syrupy looking. Behind the bar is Luke, head thrown back at something Joel says.

They’re an interesting pair to observe, you realise as you make your way over. With Luke, so tall, so lanky, so bright-face, his energy warm and inviting, and Joel so- well, Joel.

“There she is,” Luke cheers, a little too loudly, calling attention to you as you slip into the stool next to Joel. “My new favourite customer.”

“Thought I was your favourite,” Joel’s yet to look at you, and it’s a relief. He’s looked at you enough for one day, one week, one lifetime.

“Sorry but she smells better than you, Joel,” the barman winks at you, a cheeky grin on his face. “ Plus, she’s a hell of a lot nicer to look at.”

Joel scoffs, you giggle.

“Not sure about the whole smelling better thing,” your response comes minutes later, after Luke’s already served you a glass of wine and turned away your cash, telling you he’ll put it on Joel’s tab. “But thanks!”

Unprompted and uninvited, Luke bends over the bar and takes an exaggerated sniff. “I don’t know, smell alright to me.”

“Really? I’m not even wearing perfume, I forgot to pack any-.”

“Yeah! Go on Joel, give her a whiff, tell her she smells fine!” There’s resistance on his end, but Luke’s adamant, hand clamped on the back of Joel’s head, shoving him face first into your neck. Joel’s nose brushes against you. You hear him inhale. Exhale. Inhale again, then the urge to cross your thighs begins to nag at you. “Well?”

“Yeah, smells nice- Fine. Ya smell fine.”

“Be still my beating heart! Someone alert the press that Texas said something other than-”

Joel interrupts Luke’s dramatics, scowl on his face. “Don’t you have a job to be doin’?”

Only once the bartender is down the other end of the bar, engrossed in a heated discussion over what beer pulls a better head, does Joel speak again, sipping on his drink. Whiskey.

“So I noticed somethin’, when I was checking your bookin’ info.” You nod, urge him to continue, and take a sip of your own drink. Some country song plays over the speakers and you notice a sudden shake in Joel’s knee, his foot tapping to the beat. “Says there should be two of you in my guide team.”

“Oh,” the lump forming in your throat falls safely back into the pit of your stomach as you take another drink of wine. “Must be a printing error. You know how technology can be, always complicating things.”

“Hmm,” it’s easy to write off the awkward energy between you with the excuse of earlier events, and it’s the first bright-side you find to him walking in on your intimate bath. “Well, you know the drill for tomorrow. 7 am on that deck or I’m-”

“Docking without me, I know.”

You finish your drink first. When Joel orders himself another glass, you smile politely and turn it down. Yawn, then tell him you best head to bed.

Before you can slip out the entry, someone calls your last name. Loud enough to turn more than just your own head.

It’s Joel, approaching you, effortlessly parting crowds through the lively bar as though he is knife and, the people, butter. The loud music seems to ring louder in your ear, impeding you from hearing the words that leave his moving lips.

“What?” You call out, hands clasped over your mouth in an attempt to amplify the volume of your voice.

His response is to step closer, hands holding you in place by the waist as he leans down. A hot breath on your neck, the smell of whiskey on his breath, the soft brush of lips against your ear.

“It’s your turn to bring the coffees.”

series taglist. @auteurdelabre

[jo-harrington]

Promotion (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: You take a Tuesday night off to surprise Eddie at a Corroded Coffin show and you both get more than you bargained for.

Previous Part: Team Building

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. (Do I need to say this anymore?) Fluffy, a little angsty, culmination of a lot of big feelings on both Eddie and Readers parts.

Note: I have been working on this part. Since January 15th. This has always been (and if you've read Peak Sales Hours you know) the way they finally reveal their feelings for one another. DAMN TOOK THEM AND ME A REALLY LONG TIME. The idea has evolved a little, but I hope the wait has been worth it. (Really gonna suck when we go back to the 2 parts of the story where they...aren't together yet but I promise both of those parts will be worth it and it's gonna make a few things towards the end of this part make sense...) We're almost at the end.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other Eddie stories and writing.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

“Nice fake, kid,” the gruff bartender scoffed, taking a quick glance over your ID. “Illinois huh?”

“Yeah, Illinois,” you insisted. “And it’s not a fake.”

“Whatever,” he sighed. “Enough of you kids home from college, I can’t keep up. In for a penny, in for a pound. What can I getcha?”

You ordered then turned to survey the ambience of The Hideout.

Bars weren't typically your scene.

You really didn't have a scene, if you were honest. Work and school had been your life for the longest time. If you had a social life, it was garage beers with your friends back home, or going out with coworkers after a really difficult holiday season or something. Your old Store Manager had certainly forced you to join her at dive bars and parties now and again. And now, you guessed...outings with Eddie and his friends.

When he had first told you about Corroded Coffin and their gigs, he said that the Hideout wasn't typically busy.

"It's like...like Cheers, you know? A place where everyone knows your name," he explained that first night you two had hung out. "Off the highway, used to be the local watering hole for everyone at the plant to wet their whistle after quitting time, according to Wayne. Lately, not as much.

"But the owner lets us play every Tuesday and it's good if we want to make it big someday. Even though right now it's really just...you know, a few regulars who tolerate us and clap if they're sober enough."

This, though, was most certainly not a few regulars.

Just like the bartender had said, there were a lot of kids home from college for Thanksgiving week, looking to get away from their families for a night. They'd already been milling about StarCourt; you'd seen a lot of unfamiliar faces. You wondered if this was just a convenient place to get a drink with friends now that they were back; it wasn't like the bartender was really taking anyone's ID seriously, real or fake.

Everyone was here for a good time, regardless. An old house-turned-bar with a few tables, mostly occupied, and a pool table that a group of guys were crowded around. Only a few open spots at the bar, one of which you had claimed for yourself.

It wasn't a club, it wasn't really even a bar.

It was just...kind of a shithole.

But if you were to remove all the people who were here tonight who didn't seem to fit in anyway, you felt it was the perfect venue for Corroded Coffin.

The stage was small and makeshift and illuminated by the many neon signs on the adjacent walls touting Coors and Old Style and PBR, and even though you were a little ways back you could easily enjoy the show.

You were actually planning to hang back anyhow. You usually closed on Tuesdays so you wanted to surprise Eddie.

He had mentioned, way back during your first Sunday night hangout, that you should come and see the band if you were ever free. You had brought up your schedule to him then, and immediately felt bad when he looked a little disappointed. And even more so the dozen or more times you tried to bring up the topic again, especially as you spent more time with him and his friends. Music was something you two had quickly bonded over, so you were hoping you could come and support him. But he never took the cue and never extended the invitation again.

It took a lot of bribery to get Mindy to take the Tuesday shift, and thankfully with the impending holidays, she had some time-off needs of her own. So a little quid pro quo and you had your night off.

Not to mention a covert trip to Tape World to grab one of the flyers for the show, disguised as a run to the bathroom, when you had lunch together a few weeks ago. Eddie's manager Kyle always let him have his homemade flyers on the counter when he was Manager on Duty, but they always went home with Eddie after his shift was over.

"I just have this bad feeling," he admitted to you once. "That someone would come in just to fuck with them, you know. At least while I'm there, I can...I don't know. Protect them." You understood, having been witness to how shitty some of the people in Hawkins were to him. You had dealt with bullies before, and it had gotten better for Eddie in the past few months but...he was still cautious and you didn't blame him.

So now, sitting here in this crowded bar, sipping kind of bad beer, wearing one of your brother's band tees that must have gotten mixed up with your shit from your last visit home, and waiting for the boys to appear "on stage," you felt happy that you'd be able to show Eddie just how much you cared for him. How much you wanted to be there for him the way he'd been there for you the past 6 months.

How worth...all of it he was.

And the other boys. Of course.

Eddie was the only one you wanted to kiss though.

He was the only one you wanted to do any of those sweet, sickening...ahem...sexy...things with. You really had wanted it all since you met him, and you'd gotten your taste and that was enough to smolder and turn your craving into an actual thirst.

Unfortunately, what you'd hoped was mutual attraction...never went anywhere, so friendship it had stayed.

You could always indulge in your little crush-fueled fantasies after you hung out. As pathetic as that was. Especially when you realized he was a touchy kind of guy. Hugs at the ready whenever you wanted them and even sometimes when you didn't. Hands always grabbing your shoulders to shake you when he was trying to make a point. He'd popped the arm rest up when you went to the movies so you could put your head on his shoulder. And then he would cover your eyes with his hand whenever there was something especially gorey or steamy on the screen.

"Otherwise, I’ll have to wash your eyes out young lady," he mocked with a very stern voice to mock your overprotective father, who Eddie had met once.

And on one of the toughest days of your life when his attention had fully been on you so how he remembered your dad enough to get his voice down like that...

You shook your head to release you from your thoughts as you noticed Gareth and Jeff haul in Gareth's drum kit from some back hallway and onto the ramshackle stage.

It wouldn't do to get lost in your daydreams when they were about to perform. Because yeah, Eddie was always doing things like that-- remembering things you said off-handedly, surprising you with things he thought would make you laugh or smile--and you tried to do the same for him, but coming to see one of his performances was gonna be different.

It meant more than quoting his favorite movie or getting him that snack he liked at the gas station.

This was his dream.

And you wanted to be fully present for it.

A couple people clapped kindly as all four boys took the stage and Eddie said a quick, slightly shy "hey" into the microphone, clearly unused to the crowd. You let out a tenuous whoop, and Eddie squinted in your direction and waved, but with the haze of cigarette smoke lingering in the air and the bustle of bodies that swarmed the bar to refresh their drinks, you doubted he could see who it actually came from.

So maybe you would need to worm your way up eventually. Maybe.

Once they started playing, though, you knew you would have to.

They were...

Well...

Ok they were not the best, but they were certainly getting there. They could be something great if they took the time, and you knew that was a high priority for the boys.

You didn't know what you expected though.

Certainly not like something professionally recorded or the one or two concerts you'd been to with friends over the years. Surely something closer to the bands that played during street fairs or the local venues back home.

Corroded Coffin was something in-between. Eddie's proficiency at the guitar and his overly confident stage presence once he got going, paired with Jeff and Dave who matched his energy with their endless strumming and head banging and enthusiastic vocals. And of course Gareth on the drums, who kept them in line as though he was simply amplifying the beating of his heart.

They were...one-of-a-kind.

It was a sight to behold and had you enraptured by their entire performance.

And you were surely not alone, as there was a good bit of applause after every song--none louder than you, you hoped--that caused the boys to preen with the attention. Especially Eddie, who would showboat if more than 5 people clapped.

"And now," he rumbled into the microphone, voice a little croaky, as the others set up a thrum of drumbeats and repetitive notes on their respective instruments. "Lend me your ear as I weave a tale of adventure and destruction."

You shifted on your stool with a grin, excited to see this. He'd explained it to you, how he and Jeff had been working on these little attention grabbers...stage patter...in tandem with his campaigns for Hellfire Club.

"Being a frontman is more than just singing, it's about...captivating the audience."

He told you it would make more sense once they had some more original songs and not just covers. But they were still working on it.

Thus, Eddie began talking about Lord of the Rings, of all things. Of a great journey with perilous consequences if the Fellowship were to fail, of the jaunts through Rivendell and encounters in Khazad-dûm and finally the terrible task on Mount Doom.

"And none of it would be possible without..." he started plucking at his own guitar strings, running his fingers up and down the frets, creating a haunting sound in place of a harmonica. "The Wizard."

You jumped from the stool and let out a whoop, beer sloshing over the rim of your glass and onto your hand. But it didn't matter, because when Eddie's eyes zeroed in on you, he beamed brightly and it was magical.

The moment would be burned into your brain forever, the way his big, void-like eyes got all round and soft and those lips stretched over his teeth to grin, lines carving deeper into his face in a look of sheer joy. And then glanced back down at his Sweetheart as he began to play his best performance of the night.

Or so you thought, but you were a little biased.

You were torn away from the performance as someone took the glass out of your hand and pressed some napkins over your beer-soaked skin.

"Here, watch out, you spilled some on the floor too," a deep, teasing voice said. "Jules, can you grab some more napkins?"

"Yeah. For sure."

"You Corroded Coffin's number one fan or something?" the guy asked as you kept trying to look back at the stage. You looked at him and felt uneasy. He was tall but unremarkable and had a plaid shirt under a denim jacket, a few patches similar to ones you'd seen adorned on Eddie's battle vest. He seemed like someone who might enjoy the music but there was a glint in his eyes and a smirk on his mouth that seemed...off to you.

"First time hearing them," you tried to dismiss. "Thanks for the help."

His friend or...maybe date returned with a stack of napkins and she handed them to you with her own tight smile, latching herself to his side.

"I thought it was music time, not story time," she joked snidely as you dropped the napkins on the floor to clean up the spill. "Are we gonna get out of here soon Mick?"

"Yeah don't worry," he patted her shoulder and then looked back at you. "So, not number their one fan. You dating Munson or something then?"

Jules let out a laugh.

"None of your business, who are you again?" You put on the hard city exterior you grew up with--the one that often clashed with your tight-knit community and customer service exteriors, each an interchangeable mask—and turned away from him, glad to put some distance between you.

You asked the bartender for another beer but there was already a bitter taste in your mouth and you knew you wouldn't enjoy the drink.

Mick and Jules…

---

You were happy when everyone gave them an outstanding applause at the end of the set, but the boys were quick to dismantle the stage after a stern look from the bartender.

Eddie had tried his best to have an encore performance.

"Come on Phil." He batted his eyelashes enticingly. "You know you love us."

"This isn't Madison Square Garden," Phil ran a finger over his throat. "You'll run up my electric bill."

"Make sure you tip your bartender everyone," Eddie quickly announced with a mock salute, then pulled the plug on their equipment and dashed offstage.

Dave, Jeff, and Gareth made their way back in sometime after they broke down their equipment, as some the crowd started to dissipate, and were ecstatic to find you at the bar.

"It's seriously so busy in here," Gareth exclaimed after he chugged his Coke and belched obnoxiously. "I don't think we've played a crowd like this ever."

"I don't think we've seen this many people in the Hideout ever," Dave gave you a hopeful grin and pressed his hands together in prayer. "You sure you don't want to buy us a round of beers to celebrate?" You pushed his shoulder good-naturedly but got them a round of the cheap, watered down stuff nonetheless.

"Ok and listen, I was supposed to do the intro to The Wizard," Jeff started, hand on your shoulder as though he was telling you a secret. "But I chickened out. I don't think I would have been able to do it with all of these people here."

"You would have crushed it," you reassured him. "Next time."

"No, because Eddie destroyed it up there," Jeff hollered. "I almost forgot the chords, he was so good. You seriously need to come to Hellfire one time...or Eddie can have a special session over Christmas break. That was on par with a Munson Death Monologue, if I ever heard one. Right guys?"

"Where is he anyway?" you asked.

Instantly, all three boys got nervous and it had you on edge.

"The bathroom."

"Just having a smoke."

"Had to restring his guitar."

They fumbled over each other with their excuses.

"Don't make me pull the mom card," you crossed your arms over your chest and glared at them. "You know I hate that shit."

"Only the freshman call you mom," Dave attempted to deflect.

You rolled your eyes and simply turned on your heel and exited the bar. You heard the three of them bicker as you walked away.

"Nice cover shithead."

"Me? What about you? Restring his guitar?"

"Fuck off."

When you got out to the parking lot, you heard talking. Bickering, much like the boys had been inside.

"...I'm trying to give you a compliment."

"A backhanded compliment isn't a compliment."

Eddie's voice. And another one.

You didn't want to interfere, but you were from the midwest and as a result, you were nosy.

And Eddie was your friend, if he needed help, you'd be there for him.

You rounded the corner of the building and saw Eddie sitting in the open side door of the van, cigarette smoldering between his fingers as he gestured wildly while talking.

"I don't know why you think you can just show your face here," he told the other guy.

Mick...the guy who'd helped you out inside.

"Come on Ed," he scoffed. "This doesn't have to be painful for either of us. I moved on, so can you."

"That's right Mickey, you moved on," Eddie argued. He dropped his cigarette to the ground and stomped on it aggressively. "You decided it wasn't worth it to be my friend anymore and you and Jack moved on."

Mickey and Jack. Eddie's old friends, the former members of Corroded Coffin.

He'd told you about them...in passing. You never really got the full story from him, you never wanted to pry. But seeing this guy...now...

"You decided not to be friends anymore, when we wouldn't throw our futures away for a stupid garage band! And look, two years later and you're still here? Heard my mom say you're still at Hawkins High too. Look at you, Ed. A waste of fucking space."

Well you didn't know whether to walk away or butt in and give the guy a piece of your mind.

It was a good thing that Eddie got to his feet and got right into Mickey's smug face.

"Go fuck yourself Mick." His hands planted on Mickey's shoulders and he shoved his old friend a few feet. Not to knock him down, enough to disrupt his balance though.

The aggression left Mickey then, and even from where you stood you could see his eyes go wide.

"Come on Eddie," he whined. "I didn't come out here for this. I've got friends in there and I told them I could get weed. Julie's in there."

"Julie fucking Williams," Eddie rolled his head back and let out a sardonic laugh.

You vaguely realized why Jules had sounded familiar. Jason Carver had mentioned her way back when, when he tried to play the macho protector act.

"He was sniffing around this girl Julie Williams a few years ago too..."

"She still got her claws in you?" Eddie continued. "You here to rub it in my face that you're still with her too? High School Sweethearts and all of that?"

"Stop being an asshole. I made them all come and sit through your stupid show, Eddie. You should be thanking me."

"Thanking you?" he scoffed. "You...you're just rubbing salt in the wound now Mick. Throwing me a bone thinking I’m hard up for cash. Bringing people along cuz no one would come to our shows way back when, so now I gotta know that the only way they would, is if you bribed them with weed? And Julie? Julie only fooled around with me, dated me, so she could get closer to you and you fell for her like an idiot."

"I don't know why you care Eddie, I saw your girlfriend in there. Besides, you two were never dating. So if anyone is the idiot here, it's you."

"Fuck off, Michael," Eddie muttered, turning his back to his former friend. "If you want weed, go to Rick."

There was a beat and you watched Eddie's still back and Mickey shuffling on the gravel drive, looking simultaneously like he wanted to say something, and regretting that he even said anything in the first place.

Finally, he stalked off, hands shoved in his pockets.

You ducked against the side of the building to avoid being noticed as he passed and headed back into the Hideout.

You didn't know what to do. You didn't...yeah you were nosy, but you knew you should have probably walked away when Eddie told him to go fuck himself the first time.

Still...then no one would have been out here for Eddie now. Even after all these months of getting closer to him, months of friendship and learning more and more about him, all it took was an overheard conversation to make the pieces click. You needed to make sure he was alright because that...that hadn't been good.

He'd already been in some kind of state of constant self-deprecation when you first met him, you didn't want him to fall back into it because of some asshole. You understood now why Jeff had been so protective of him at the start. You were that way now. You wanted your friend to be happy.

To see how much he mattered. That's why you came tonight in the first place.

At the sound of something crashing in the back of the van, you shuffled back around the corner and got closer.

"Fuck," he muttered pathetically. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

There was the twang of a string on one of the guitars snapping, and then Eddie's heaving breath.

"FUCK!" He turned around and kicked at the gravel, and it sprayed across the lot before landing at your feet. He ran his hands through his hair and stopped at the sight of you.

You froze too, unable to stomach the sight of his red, tear-filled eyes and the wetness of his cheeks illuminated by the streetlamp overhead.

"So uh," he sniffed and quickly ran the cuff of his sleeve across his nose. “Dunno if you heard but that was my old friend. Who's dating...well I guess she wasn’t my girlfriend. So she’s not an ex either.”

He rolled his eyes and hung his head pathetically.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered and took a few steps closer. “I’m sorry that they did that to you. Both of them. All of them. You deserve so much more than that.”

“Do I?” He scoffed. “I’m a freak, a loser. Too stupid to finish high school or get out of this town.”

“Stop it!”

"No, Mickey's right. My stupid band, my stupid friends."

"I'm your friend, am I stupid?" you asked. You knew it was a little shifty, trying to turn this onto you, but you needed him to see that he was being...well...

Stupid.

"Maybe," he shrugged.

"And Jeff? And Dave? And Gareth?"

"Maybe."

"Fine," you pointed back at the Hideout. "But those people in there...they couldn't have all been Mickey's friends. They clapped for your stupid band. Are they all idiots too? Freaks. Losers."

"Maybe."

"That was a really good crowd, you were great up there. I was so surprised. So impressed."

"Well you shouldn't be."

"Eddie," you said in a chastising tone.

He mimicked you in a childlike fashion, said your name in the same tone, and then ran his hands over his face and groaned.

"I don't want to let him get to me like that," he shouted into the sky. "I don't...want my stupid, dumb, shithead old best friend to get to me like that. To act like it's some favor he's doing me by rolling back into town and bringing some people to my show. When it still should have been our show. Together.

"I had to very nearly give up on all of my fucking dreams because our friendship wasn't worth it to him. Because he pretended to grow up. He...he barely got accepted into a college. He was going to take classes at Tri County and keep working at Bradley's forever and we were gonna have this band and make it big one day and now..."

He trailed off and heaved.

"And now?" You pressed after a few minutes of silence.

"And now..." He waved his hand dismissively. "I don't know...nothing I guess."

You put your hands on your hips and scowled at him.

"And now you have friends in there that actually support your dream, who actually believe you've got a chance as a band. Jeff's a better best friend than Mickey. And you've got a job at TapeWorld and have Kyle and the guys there. They all believe in you. What did you tell me a couple weeks ago? Kyle wants to see if he can make you an ASM after you graduate?"

"Yeah."

"You've got...a future...and new dreams...just like Mickey does," you tried again. "Losing old friends is hard. It's a hole in your heart that doesn't ever go away.

"My high school best friend moved away and I don't talk to her anymore. We had...maybe one phone call after she went off to some out-of-state school. It hurt when I tried to call her and she never made time for me. But...then I made other friends. It's not the same as her, but sometimes it's better. Because I have Jen, and the girls at the old store and now this store and now I have...now I have you too.

"You're better than my high school best friend ever was. Tell me I'm not a better friend than Mickey...whatever his last name is."

Eddie's face went gaunt then, his eyes evaded yours and immediately went down to his feet, hands wrapped around his stomach defensively, like you wounded him.

You breathed heavily for a few moments and then softened.

Maybe you went a little too hard.

"Eddie, I'm sorry, I..." You backtracked a little. "I know I don't know the whole story. I just...I want you to know how much I value you as my friend."

"Stop saying that!" He shut his eyes and scrunched his face.

"What? You need to hear it! I know it's hard to hear how good you are--"

"No," he opened his eyes and took a step back, holding his hands out beside him, as though he was offering himself up for the slaughter. "Stop saying that you're my friend."

"But I am your friend!"

"But I don't...I don't want you to be."

Your eyes went wide this time and your mind raced.

At first you just...you thought this was him saying he didn't want to be friends anymore. Maybe you'd overstepped boundaries and had gone too far. The little insidious self-conscious voice inside of your head told you that you were dumb and too stupid to realize all the signs of him pushing you away. Overanalyzing every interaction for some indication that he didn't want you there.

But then he kept talking and you realized you were dumb just not dumb in that way.

"I...I have...kind of always thought you were pretty," he let out a dry laugh. "Well...actually I thought you were awful...way, way back...at the beginning before I even knew your name. I thought...wow it's another mean popular pretty girl coming to tease me and make my life hell. Only...you didn’t. You’re not mean and you're not a popular girl."

"And I'm not pretty," you joked.

"But you are," he disagreed. "And you didn’t make my life hell. You're everything I...well...I know this is gonna ruin everything. So fuck it. But I have the biggest, stupidest crush on you and everyone fucking knows about it and won't stop teasing me about it and I thought...after that night at the trailer that maybe...you know, you felt the same way. That we were just two dummies. I got my hopes up. I was coming to ask you out that Friday. I even skipped school."

Your heart skipped a beat, thinking about that night.

About that kiss and about...

"And then your grandpa..." he trailed off. "And how could I bring anything up after that? I just needed to be a good friend. Be there for you, like you're always there for me. Just like you're here for me tonight.

"Sweetheart, do you know how fucking happy I was to see you back there?" he asked, eyes big and round and wet with tears. "Shit you took a Tuesday night off?"

"Of course I did," you laughed. "I told you way back at the beginning I could move things around."

"Yeah but..."

"I get it," you nodded and then felt your heart ache with longing. "Eddie..."

"So no," he continued sadly. "I don't want to be your friend anymore because I just...want you."

He backed away a little, on weak legs as though he had been wounded. Especially when you took too long to process all of your thoughts and he probably took it as rejection. He turned back to the van to try and finish packing everything up.

And your mind finally caught up to your body.

Eddie liked you and he wanted to...not be your friend anymore because he wanted more than friendship.

Right? Was that it?

Fuck, why had you been so...

You walked right up to him and grabbed him by the sleeve and turned him around.

"If you're an idiot," you told him, vulnerably. "Then so am I."

You surged forward and captured his lips with yours.

It was...admittedly not like a John Hughes movie. It was sweet for a second and your heart was soaring and then his nose bonked into yours and you both broke into a little bit of laughter.

"You're not that good at kissing," Eddie teased.

"Me?" you guffawed. "It was your nose."

"Maybe we're just both out of practice," he suggested.

"Yeah." You reached out and shook him by his vest. "One uh...maybe extra high kiss on your couch two months ago is not the warmup we needed."

He smiled at you.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Are we both just...stupid?"

"Yeah I think so."

"How long has Mindy been mocking you?" he asked.

"Pretty much since Day 1. Kyle?"

"Before Day 1," he ran a hand through his hair and blew a frustrated breath through pursed lips. "He was the one who told me I should go up and ask you out."

"No he didn't!" You slapped a hand against his chest and stared at him incredulously.

"Scouts honor." He crossed over his heart. "So uh...you wanna try again?"

Eddie waited for your little nod before he pressed a kiss to your lips. His hands sought your waist and pulled you closer to him, body flush with his as your hands became trapped on his chest. You grabbed him by the vest and held him to you.

It was sweet exploration at first, lips tentative and pliant. Then tongues got involved, painting your tastes sweetly to the seams of each other's mouth, taking turns until they gained the courage to dance together.

Before long though...you both got a little impatient and you were pressed up against the side of his van, one hand in his hair as he kissed down the side of your throat, fingers plucking at the neckline of your t-shirt to gain more access to skin.

"Didn't know you liked Pantera," he muttered and licked back up the length of your throat then lightly bit the softness of your jaw. "S'this Jimmy's shirt?"

"Please don't say my brother's name right now."

You gently pulled him by the hair and led him right back to your lips to shut him up.

Sweetness turned into impatience, where 6 months of friendship and unrequited feelings were released--for real this time. Eddie's body slotted between your legs, hands roamed, giggles turned into moans, and just as he was about to scoot you into the van for some private time away from the elements of the Hideout Parking lot--

"Whooo..."

"Mom and Dad, sitting in a tree..."

"K-I-S-S-I-N-G."

--the guys exited the bar and found you in your...compromising position.

Eddie, ever the gentleman, made sure your shirt was on the right way and your hair not...too disheveled before turning to shoot his friends with the most scathing glare.

"Alright you fucking pervs," he shouted. "Nothing to see here."

"Are you kidding?" Dave exclaimed. "This is like...Christmas."

"Yeah, about time Eddie," Jeff clapped a hand on Gareth and Dave's shoulders. "We were about to start a bet to see if it was even gonna happen."

"It was Wheeler's idea," Gareth confessed.

"Of course it was," Eddie rolled his eyes. "Little rat."

"Mike's nice," you poked Eddie in the side and he jumped. "Stop picking on him so much."

The guys all started their whooping and hollering again until you sent your own dead stare their way to shut them up.

Eddie shouted for them all to pile into the van, and once they were all inside he turned to you and awkwardly stuck his hands in his pockets.

"So," he ran his tongue over his lips nervously. "Uh...I mean...that was nice."

"It was," you beamed. "Changed your mind about if I'm a bad kisser?"

"Yeah, oh," he nodded vigorously. "I...yes...I mean, no. You're a really...good kisser."

"Not so bad yourself Casanova."

"So we gonna...do that more often?"

You both burst out laughing and then jumped as someone inside the van honked the horn.

"You wanna come to Benny's with us?" Eddie thumbed over his shoulder. "Post-show patty melts? Kind of a tradition."

"Yeah. I'd love to."

"Kay, we'll see you there then."

"Sure."

He was about to back away and head towards the driver side of the van, and you back to the front lot to get into your car, when he swept in and cupped your face with his hands. Thumbs running gently over cheekbones, lips gently ghosting over yours.

And you couldn't help but think as you covered his hands with yours, this was definitely a perk you were going to take advantage of in this...

Relationship?

...promotion from friend to something more.

---

Next Part: Peak Sales Hours

[solarpunkani]

PHILADELPHIA (AP) — Dockworkers at ports from Maine to Texas began walking picket lines early Tuesday in a strike over wages and automation that could reignite inflation and cause shortages of goods if it goes on more than a few weeks.

The contract between the ports and about 45,000 members of the International Longshoremen’s Association expired at midnight, and even though progress was reported in talks on Monday, the workers went on strike. The strike affecting 36 ports is the first by the union since 1977.

Workers began picketing at the Port of Philadelphia shortly after midnight, walking in a circle at a rail crossing outside the port and chanting “No work without a fair contract.”

The union had message boards on the side of a truck reading: “Automation Hurts Families: ILA Stands For Job Protection.”

Local ILA president Boise Butler said workers want a fair contract that doesn’t allow automation of their jobs.

Shipping companies made billions during the pandemic by charging high prices, he said. “Now we want them to pay back. They’re going to pay back,” Butler said.

He said the union will strike for as long as it needs to get a fair deal, and it has leverage over the companies.

“This is not something that you start and you stop,” he said. “We’re not weak,” he added, pointing to the union’s importance to the nation’s economy

At Port Houston, at least 50 workers started picketing around midnight local time carrying signs saying “No Work Without a Fair Contract.”

The U.S. Maritime Alliance, which represents the ports, said Monday evening that both sides had moved off of their previous wage offers. But no deal was reached.

The union’s opening offer in the talks was for a 77% pay raise over the six-year life of the contract, with President Harold Daggett saying it’s necessary to make up for inflation and years of small raises. ILA members make a base salary of about $81,000 per year, but some can pull in over $200,000 annually with large amounts of overtime.

But Monday evening, the alliance said it had increased its offer to 50% raises over six years, and it pledged to keep limits on automation in place from the old contract. The union wants a complete ban on automation. It wasn’t clear just how far apart both sides are.

“We are hopeful that this could allow us to fully resume collective bargaining around the other outstanding issues in an effort to reach an agreement,” the alliance statement said.

In a statement early Tuesday, the union said it rejected the alliance’s latest proposal because it “fell far short of what ILA rank-and-file members are demanding in wages and protections against automation.” The two sides had not held formal negotiations since June.

“We are prepared to fight as long as necessary, to stay out on strike for whatever period of time it takes, to get the wages and protections against automation our ILA members deserve,” Daggett said in the statement. “They must now meet our demands for this strike to end.”

The alliance said its offer tripled employer contributions to retirement plans and strengthened health care options.

Supply chain experts say consumers won’t see an immediate impact from the strike because most retailers stocked up on goods, moving ahead shipments of holiday gift items.

But if it goes more than a few weeks, a work stoppage would significantly snarl the nation’s supply chain, potentially leading to higher prices and delays in goods reaching households and businesses.

If drawn out, the strike will force businesses to pay shippers for delays and cause some goods to arrive late for peak holiday shopping season — potentially impacting delivery of anything from toys or artificial Christmas trees to cars, coffee and fruit.

The strike will likely have an almost immediate impact on supplies of perishable imports like bananas, for example. The ports affected by the strike handle 3.8 million metric tons of bananas each year, or 75% of the nation’s supply, according to the American Farm Bureau Federation.

It also could snarl exports from East Coast ports and create traffic jams at ports on the West Coast, where workers are represented by a different union. Railroads say they can ramp up to carry more freight from the West Coast, but analysts say they can’t move enough to make up for the closed Eastern ports.

“If the strikes go ahead, they will cause enormous delays across the supply chain, a ripple effect which will no doubt roll into 2025 and cause chaos across the industry,” noted Jay Dhokia, founder of supply chain management and logistics firm Pro3PL.

J.P. Morgan estimated that a strike that shuts down East and Gulf coast ports could cost the economy $3.8 billion to $4.5 billion per day, with some of that recovered over time after normal operations resume.

The strike comes just weeks before the presidential election and could become a factor if there are shortages. Retailers, auto parts suppliers and produce importers had hoped for a settlement or that President Joe Biden would intervene and end the strike using the Taft-Hartley Act, which allows him to seek an 80-day cooling off period.

But during an exchange with reporters on Sunday, Biden, who has worked to court union votes for Democrats, said “no” when asked if he planned to intervene in the potential work stoppage.

A White House official said Monday that at Biden’s direction, the administration has been in regular communication with the ILA and the alliance to keep the negotiations moving forward. The president directed Chief of Staff Jeff Zients and National Economic Council Director Lael Brainard to convene the alliance’s board members Monday afternoon and urge them to resolve the dispute fairly and quickly — in a way that accounts for the success of shipping companies in recent years and contributions of union workers.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Why so ugly? | Jeremiah Fisher x Reader

Advent calendar day two

Summary: You and Jeremiah are to attend an ugly sweater party. He refuses to wear his

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

—

Jeremiah stared at the offending item flatly. ‘’I’m not wearing that.’’ 

‘’Yes, you are,’’ you countered, pushing the sweater at his bare chest. It was red with a massive Christmas tree on the front…and twinkling lights that lit up to the tune of ‘O Christmas tree’. A true holiday gem. 

‘’No, I’m not. I already have something to wear tonight.’’ He put the sweater down on his desk, trying to get away from wearing it, but you glared at him. 

‘’It's an ugly Christmas sweater party. You can't not wear an ugly Christmas sweater to an ugly Christmas sweater party.’’ 

Everyone was going to be dressed in ugly sweaters. You even heard that some people did arts and crafts on theirs, which could either be a good thing or terrible.

He sighed, knowing he didn’t have a choice. ‘’Why does it have to be so ugly? Why couldn’t we get matching ones like Joshua and his girlfriend did?’’

‘’Because I was only informed about this party three days ago and the closest mall sucks.‘’ You pushed the sweater at his chest again, starting to lose your patience. ‘’Now, put the sweater on. We’re gonna be late.’’ You checked your phone again, seeing messages from your friends asking when you’ll be there. 

Jeremiah whined like a child having a tantrum in a grocery store. ‘’Do I have to turn the lights on?’’ he tried to bargain. 

‘’Jeremiah!’’

—

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[bulkyphrase]

Cap-IM Rec Week - Cap-IM Sunday

It's day 7 (the final day) of @cap-ironman's rec week event! Today's recommendations feature stories created for previous Cap-Iron Man events. Thanks so much to them for organizing this event, and all the other events that inspired the following fics!

I Look and in the Mirror the World Shatters by @navaan, art by Caz and KakushiMiko (616, Mature, 25,807 words)

Created for: 2022 Captain America/Iron Man Big Bang

Summary: After Pleasant Hill, Civil War II and right in the middle of Secret Empire, Steve Rogers (the real one) comes back and realizes a copy of himself is now leading HYDRA and has taken over the world. With Tony dead and only an AI copy of him existing and nobody trusting the face of Steve Rogers, he decides to make things right and help the heroes trapped inside and outside the planetary field. One way to do it: Infiltrating HYDRA by playing the role of the other him. What he finds is more than he bargained for.

Tabula Rasa by @sineala, art by @veryvincible (Captain America Corps, Explicit, 37,819 words)

Created for: Captain America/Iron Man Reverse Bang 2022

Summary: Sometimes superheroes save the world. And sometimes they're too late. Captain America's longtime villain Superia had a plan for revenge. She stopped the Avengers from ever finding Steve in the ice, tore the Avengers apart, and turned the world into her own personal authoritarian dystopia. A team made up of Captains America from across the multiverse came to set things right: they united all the remaining superheroes, took down Superia, and made sure the world would find Steve again. Tony spent Superia's hellish reign as her prisoner, a suicidally-depressed disembodied brain trapped in a jar for years on end, begging the Avengers to kill him and put him out of his misery. The Captain America Corps instead gives him his freedom, a brand-new body, and even the Avengers -- including his very own Captain America. But Tony's not entirely sure he wants to be here. He's walking wounded, and he thinks some wounds are too deep to heal. He thinks there's no chance the Avengers will ever be what they could have been. He thinks there's no way Steve will ever be the friend and partner he could have been on so many other worlds. Luckily for Tony, Steve happens to disagree with that.

More below the cut!

A Little Confused But He Got the Spirit by jellybeanforest (@jellybeanforest-a-go-go) (MCU, Mature, 3,298 words)

Created for: 2021 Captain America/Iron Man Holiday Exchange

Summary: On their third date, Steve decides to come clean about his lycanthropy. Tony is surprisingly understanding, almost too much so. Based on a prompt by DepressingGreenie.

on the inherent homoeroticism of cake decoration by Welcoming_Disaster (@welcomingdisaster) (616, General Audiences, 8,191 words)

Created for: 2020 Captain America/Iron Man Holiday Exchange

Summary: “She’s matchmaking, Barton,” Carol sighed. “We,” Thor corrected, thumping himself hard in the chest, “art matchmaking.” “Who, Cap n’ Tony?” Clint asked, his mouth full. “Cap and Tony,” Janet confirmed, cutting herself a thin slice of egg and gently depositing it on her whole grain avocado toast, “it’s getting ridiculous.” “Wait, I thought they were—“ Clint frowned, glancing around the room as though to confirm. Nothing but confused faces met his questioning gaze. “Huh. I really thought they were fucking.” “And there is the crux of the issue,” Jess licked a bit of spaghetti sauce off her lip. “Aye,” agreed Thor, “there’s rub.” ----------- The team tries to set up Steve and Tony. Things don't go as planned.

An Error in the System by orphan_account, art by Jellybeanforest (@jellybeanforest-a-go-go) (MCU, Mature, 45,224 words)

Created for: 2020 Captain America/Iron Man Big Bang

Summary: When the Avengers faced Ultron, they believed that Vision completed his task to lock Ultron out of the internet. After Sokovia, no one thinks that Ultron survived. Everyone is wrong. Ultron’s code persists, hidden in the deepest trenches of the internet. Soon, it rises to cause chaos around the world and the only way to stop a catastrophe is to meet Ultron face to face. But Ultron is computer code – elusive, persistent, and viral. The only way to confront him is to meet the AI on equal footing within the bowels of the internet itself. Steve and Tony enter the virtual world of Ultron’s mind, passing through the rims to get to the center Hub of the AI’s existence. Along the way they face challenges and nightmares, hardships and truths. Truths that hurt and haunt them. Now they have to deal with a genocidal killer AI, and a truth that could destroy them. Steve blames himself for everything that went wrong with his relationship with Tony, but that doesn't mean he isn't still hoping and pining for someone who will never love him in return.

The Fabric of Reality by Neverever (@captainneverever), art by Jayjayverse (616, Mature, 26,210 words)

Created for: 2019 Captain America/Iron Man Big Bang

Summary: Tony loves being Iron Man and the Avengers. But anyone can see that the Avengers are struggling as a team. While he helps Jan solve their problems, Tony meets freelance Artist Steve Rogers. Tony believes that everything is going to turn out great -- the Avengers will pull together, Tony has a gorgeous boyfriend, and the supervillains will be defeated. What more could the modern superhero and CEO want out of life? Except that Tony has a few secrets that threaten to undermine his happiness. For one thing, Tony remembers that Captain America was an Avenger when everyone else thinks he died at the end of World War II. And that's just the tip of the iceberg.

The Don'ts Of Dating (And How They Can Win You A Man) by Mozzarella (@muchymozzarella), art by @acachette (Marvel, General Audiences, 5,162 words)

Created for: 2019 Cap-IM Reverse Bang

Summary: In which Steve Rogers fills in the Don't column of "Cosmo's Dos and Dont's of Dating" and somehow makes it work, while Tony Stark marvels at the fact that he's picking this weird (yet unbearably sweet) artist from Brooklyn over Captain Goddamn America. AU where Tony is known as Iron Man but Cap's identity is secret even to the other Avengers.

The Moon and the Sea by @dirigibleplumbing, art by Bella (MCU, Explicit, 81,058 words)

Created for: 2018 Captain America/Iron Man Big Bang

Summary: Steve has lived his whole life in the coastal California town of Nublado. He’s spent the last few years trying to move on from a traumatic event in his past, and he finds new joy when he befriends—and quickly falls for—reclusive local billionaire Tony Stark. Then Tony abruptly breaks things off and won’t reply when Steve reaches out. Steve’s friends Clint and Nat have his back, at least. But… is someone following him everywhere? What’s with the human teeth Steve and his friends found while they were out fishing? How did the Scarlet Witch know so much about him? And why are there so many crows around?

Tony Stark and the Subterranean Escapade by @veldeia (Iron Man Noir, Teen And Up Audiences, 20,279 words)

Created for: Captain America/Iron Man Bingo 2016

Summary: Soon after the end of the War, a French cave explorer contacts Tony for help concerning a mysterious artifact found deep underground. It's time for a new era of adventures for the hero of Marvels, together with his friends, including a certain war-time acquaintance named Steve Rogers, with whom he has grown quite close. Bingo fill for the prompt "Infinity Gems (Make Life Difficult)”

Dreams of War, Dreams of Liars by @teaberryblue (MCU, Teen And Up Audiences, 34,438 words)

Created for: 2014 Captain America/Iron Man Holiday Exchange

Summary: When Steve succumbs to a malevolent attack that puts him permanently to sleep, the only way to wake him up is to unearth a technology that hasn't been used in twenty years. Welcome back to Dreamvision, Tony Stark. This is an MCU canon-compliant story that incorporates the science of Inception, rather than a straight-up AU or crossover.

Phantom by Del_Rion, art by Gabbi (MCU, Mature, 28,426 words)

Created for: Cap/Iron Man Reverse Bang 2013

Summary: After Steve gets mysteriously possessed by dark magic, the Avengers must contain the situation and save their leader without losing their own lives in the process. Steve keeps escaping, however – and unerringly migrates towards Tony every time. Written for: Cap/Iron Man Reverse Bang 2013. Story based on & inspired by the beautiful art by the talented Gabbi!

If Through a Door by jibrailis, art by tripperfunster (MCU, Explicit, 44,036 words)

Created for: Cap/Iron Man Big Bang 2012

Summary: Tony is accused of murder on an alien planet; Steve marries him to bring him home.

[jimraisedmeup]

TICK // 8.1 - i guess that's why they call it the blues

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (angst, language, sexual content, masturbation)

Word Count: 3000

A/N: still trying to work out some bugs on the taglist. thank you to everyone.

☾

Don't wish it away Don't look at it like it's forever

Between me and you I could honestly say Things can only get better

☾

New Year's Eve 1983 - junior year

You sat on your bed, wrapped in a white fluffy towel. Your hair was wet and dangling as you ran a brush through it.

Just let me know the time and place to pick you up.

The phone call was meticulously planned to occur when you were home alone, as Robin and your parents went to the store. There was nothing you disliked more than someone listening in on your private conversations. And having parents like Richard and Melissa made things such as privacy a rare luxury.

After hanging up the phone with Eddie, you had swiftly made your way into the shower. Without wanting to fully admit it to yourself, you purposely used your mother's expensive shampoo so that your hair would smell different, fancy. It was New Year's, after all. A special occasion.

Now the only obstacle was escaping your parents' watchful eyes after dinner. It was a tradition for the Buckley family to eat dinner late in the evening on New Year's. But this year, you and Robin had absolutely no intention of being home at midnight.

You wondered vaguely if Eddie's dad cared about him being out all night.

Mr. Munson didn't seem very nice on the phone when you called for Eddie. The older man was mouth breathing and irritable, like you had interrupted an important event. Which turned out to be true once you heard him yelling about Jeopardy being on.

Having unkind parents was something you understood, but still shocked you to overhear the abusive tone Eddie's father held as his only son simply got a phone call.

And then, as you were lost in thought with the brush still in your hair, a peculiar thing happened.

The phone in your room began to ring.

Knowing you were the only one home, you reached for the receiver with haste, a tiny voice in the back of your mind begging for it to be Eddie again.

But after one ring, just as the tip of your finger touched the phone, the ringing stopped. 

You were momentarily frightened as you heard a deep voice mumbling downstairs, then quickly realized that it was your father. You must not have been the only one to ditch the grocery shopping trip.

Then the fear came back, washing over you like a wave. What if it was Eddie calling you back? Your father would have a fucking conniption fit if Eddie Munson was calling his home.

In a panic, you quietly lifted the receiver to see if you could hear the voice of the caller. Normally, you wouldn't dream of listening to someone else's call - but anxiety took over. 

"...Richard, honey, come to the office for just an hour… you know I won't tell anyone…"

The sultry voice of a woman was the last thing you expected to hear. You also didn't expect to recognize the voice as your father's coworker, Kate.

Pressing your palm to your mouth and nose to stay quiet, you were unable to stop yourself from listening further, a sick feeling rising in your stomach.

Your father's voice, usually impatient and gruff, seemed almost unrecognizable as he responded to the woman.

"You know that's a risky idea, Kate. I have dinner with my family tonight."

"So come before dinner. The office is empty for the holiday. I promise I'll make it worth your while."

You almost gagged to yourself. Was this really happening, or did you never wake up from your dream-filled sleep from earlier that morning?

It didn't take much for Richard Buckley to give in. "You drive a hard bargain. I'll be there in about twenty minutes. Just don't call the house again, okay? Unless I call you first."

Not waiting to hear the rest of the unpleasant infidelity, you gently hung up the phone and rushed to put clothes on. 

Your father was off the phone and gathering the keys to his work truck when you appeared at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed. You were satisfied to see the color drain from his face.

"I- okay, now," he sighed angrily. "I thought you went with your mother to the store."

Relishing in having the upper hand in the situation, you kept a poker face and stared at him.

"Ditto."

Your father sighed again, running a hand over his thin combed-over hair. "I have to run to the office for a while before dinner. There was an… unexpected delivery."

"Okay. I'll let mom know."

You waited for him to turn for the front door, letting him think he could make it out unscathed, before adding another comment.

"Tell Kate I said hello."

Freezing with one hand gripped on the doorknob, white-knuckled, Richard Buckley didn't look at his daughter as he chose his words carefully.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

You scoffed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Please don't make me spell it out, Dad. I could hear her on the phone."

"You must be mistaken, then. That was a phone call about a deliv-"

Tossing your hands in the air, you weren't about to be gaslighted. "Oh, come on. I'm not a child. Listen, I'll make you a deal, okay?"

Your father finally looked at you then, face red with anger at your defiance, but not an ounce of shame for being caught. This only fueled your frustration. If your father was going to play dirty, so were you.

"I won't tell Mom about this… if you let me and Robin go out tonight for New Year's. No curfew."

"Fine."

That was easy, you thought, satisfied. But what else could you get out of this?

"One more thing."

He hesitated, but still humored you, gesturing with his hand impatiently for you to continue.

"I don't want to face any consequences for spending time with Eddie Munson. No more threats of private school."

You almost laughed at your father's expression then, the reddest you had ever seen it. He looked as if he could spontaneously combust at any moment. 

But as foolish as your father was, he wasn't a complete imbecile. Having an affair with his also married coworker was something that would ruin his reputation not only with the town, but with his beloved church as well. You were almost tempted to ask him how God felt about adultery.

You didn't get an easy response like your first part of the deal.

"Listen," he spoke slowly. "You need to keep your nose out of this. Forget this ever happened. Your mother and I have private lives that don't involve you."

"I have a private life too! And I'm sick of you dictating who Robin and I can be friends with!" 

Desperate to end the conversation, Richard pointed his finger in your face.

"You are a troubled young woman. Be friends with whoever you want. But dear daughter of mine," spit was flying from his lips, face basically a tomato. "If I so much as see that Munson boy, this deal is over."

You stared him down. It took everything in you to not smack his finger out of your face. You calmed yourself, realizing that this was as good as the situation could possibly get. 

Holding a hand out to shake, you sneered at him. "You drive a hard bargain, Richard."

But he didn't shake your hand. Your father abruptly left the house as he mumbled an almost incoherent "absolute failure" under his breath.

Slumping down on the bottom stair, you trembled with adrenaline, wondering if you were the failure or if your father was actually admitting it about himself.

☾

While I'm away Dust out the demons inside And it won't be long Before you and me run To the place in our hearts Where we hide

☾

Eddie found himself in a quandary.

Later that evening, as he got ready to head out for the night, the brown-eyed boy stood in front of the bathroom mirror, a foil wrapper crinkling in his hand.

A condom.

The cliche better safe than sorry was running through his mind. But on the same note, he felt bad for assuming that you would even kiss him again. 

He rubbed his eyes, then looked at his reflection in the mirror. Dark eyes, dark hair, dark clothing. It was kind of a front, though, as his thoughts usually weren't very dark. 

Usually. 

Eddie still had plans with Jeff and Gareth before he was due to pick you up, and he considered asking them for advice about the situation. That would be fruitless, however, as Eddie was quite familiar with the extent of their experiences with women. 

Plus, you would literally have his head if you knew he was talking about you like that to anyone. One of his favorite things about you was the respect you had for yourself, the sureness with which you carried yourself. You were quiet and a little awkward, but still completely confident.

He pondered for a moment, still fiddling with the foil wrapper in his palm. Like a horrible totem representing his own crippled self confidence.

Figuring that you wouldn't even know that he had it unless you actually asked him for one, Eddie tucked it away inside of his wallet for safe keeping.

He could hear his dad stomping around upstairs as he walked back and forth between his armchair and the case of beer in the fridge. As much as Eddie liked his bedroom and bathroom in the basement, he wouldn't miss hearing that annoying stomping as a daily reminder of his dad's alcoholism.

For now, the solitude of the basement was worth it. And it held good memories regardless of the drunk monster that lived above him.

Brushing his teeth, Eddie's thoughts wandered back to the condom in his wallet. He thought about you, about your request to spend New Year's Eve with him. Him, of all people.

At eighteen years old, Eddie was still technically a virgin. Would he ever admit that to anyone? Probably not. Heavy petting make-out sessions and half of a handjob didn't exactly count as occurrences that required such contraception.

And he never really considered himself to be the kind of guy who needed to carry around a condom with him everyday. The town freak. 

He noticed attractive people, like any other teenager in Hawkins. But as of the entire last year, you were the only human being to cross his path that made him want an excuse to use a condom.

Sure, he wasn't exactly a blushing, completely inexperienced teenager. Though it had been less than a month, Eddie was still fucking shocked that you hadn't even kissed anyone before. He almost wondered if you were fucking with him, some kind of sick joke.

Deep down he knew you were telling the truth, though. Maybe he was naive, but Eddie refused to believe that you'd lie to him about something like that. Not to mention that after several years of school with you, he had never seen you dating anyone.

Eddie was curious as to why. You were semi-popular, attractive, funny. But maybe your attitude and general feisty demeanor made it clear that you preferred to be alone.

Pacing in his bathroom, the only sound was his boots dragging across the linoleum tile, the clinking of the chains on his belt. 

It didn't take long for his attention to crawl towards something more deviant. He didn't think he could ever forget the feeling of your skin as he tattooed you. The cold press of your lips on his as snow fell around them.

Jesus Christ, he needed to get rid of the tension in his body before he was physically near you.

Grabbing the lotion off the bathroom counter, he hastily unbuckled his jeans.

Already hard, he imagined groping you in the shadows, wishing it was your soft hands along his length. He wondered how sensitive you were - would you whimper if he dragged his nails gently over the most private area of your blue jeans? Would you take his hand and place it inside your panties?

He dropped himself back onto his bed, spare guitar picks falling to the floor. Flashing images of you kissing his neck, fingers pulling his hair.

It didn’t take long for him to make a mess all over his belly, letting out a sigh at the ceiling tiles where he swore he could see your name hidden in the cobweb patterns.

☾

I guess that's why they call it the blues Time on my hands Could be time spent with you

Oh, laughing like children Living like lovers Rolling like thunder Under the covers

☾

"You're late, Munson."

He smiled at you. "You know, I think that might be something you'll have to get used to. I'm incapable of being on time."

It was just after eleven at night, only an hour before the New Year, as you scrambled into the passenger seat of his warm van. Rubbing your hands together in front of the vents, you turned your excited eyes to him as he drove away from your house. 

He was dressed in his usual dark attire. From the glow of the streetlights, you could see his devilish grin as he lifted a cigarette to his mouth.

You were just about to tell him how gross the cigarette was when you heard the song playing on the radio.

"Oh! Turn it up, will you?"

Lifting an eyebrow at you, Eddie twisted the volume dial. "Journey? Are you serious?"

"'Separate Ways' is my all-time favorite song," you stated matter-of-factly, tapping your fingers on the window sill. "So, where are we going?"

"I'd tell you it's a surprise, but it's not really all that surprising. We're going to Lovers' Lake."

Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him. 

"That's very original of you, Eddie. Isn't it all frozen over this time of year?"

He flicked the cigarette on the edge of the ashtray. "Yes, sunshine. A huge, frigid heart-shaped body of water. Just like my own heart."

You smirked to yourself. "Yet another perfect place for you to finally murder me."

"Not quite yet! I have a warm van, a six pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon, and some blankets in the back."

"You literally just described the exact van that murderers drive around in."

Eddie laughed at your morbid sense of humor. "Does it help at all that we'll have the best view on the lake? My friend isn't at his cabin tonight, but he said it's cool to pull my van up to the shore by his boathouse."

Pretending to think hard for a moment, you shrugged and smiled. Then, you shocked Eddie by nonchalantly placing your palm on his leg, like it was something you did everyday. 

"I guess that makes up for all these homicidal red flags."

☾

Stare into space Picture my face in your hands

Live for each second Without hesitation And never forget I'm your man

☾

"So, how do your parents feel about you being out so late?"

Eddie helped you wrap yourself into a blanket cocoon and then handed you a beer. He watched as you took a drink of it, shivering slightly, before responding to him.

You were curled up close to each other in the back of his van, legs dangling out of the open rear doors. Eddie made sure to blast the heat in the front so you wouldn't get too cold, but he could still see your breath in the brisk winter air around them.

"Oh, the usual. I'm a sinner. A disappointment. An absolute heathen, disgracing the Buckley name."

He stared at you, his can of beer paused halfway to his mouth. "Did they really say that?"

You snorted. "No, but my father might as well have. My mom's just an idiot who goes along with him."

"Do they know you're with me?"

"Yes," you replied simply.

When Eddie stayed quiet on the matter, you asked some of the lingering questions in your mind.

"How does your dad feel? He didn't sound very happy when I called earlier."

Taking a long sip of the cold beverage in his gloved hand, Eddie seemed to wince at your query. He glanced out at the frozen, dark abyss of Lovers' Lake and then peered over at you.

"I doubt he even noticed that I left the house."

You fidgeted in the blanket and awkwardly adjusted the fluffy hat on your head. "I'm sorry, Munson."

"Don't sweat it. He's just an asshole. I think I'm going to move in with my uncle this summer, though. After graduation."

You were surprised to hear this. "Really? Does your uncle live far away?"

Eddie didn't miss the slight panic in your words, his heart instantly swelling as he realized that you worried he was moving away from Hawkins. Still, he wasn't going to pass up the chance to tease you about it.

"Well, well, well. Are you going to miss me? Is Miss Buckley breaking away from her infamous emotionless exterior? Do I see the hint of an actual soul in there?" 

He burst out in laughter as you punched him playfully on the shoulder. 

"C'mon, Eddie. If you weren't around, who else would tolerate me?"

"Don't worry about it. I'll tolerate you all the way from Forest Hills Trailer Park, sunshine."

Your shoulders dropped a little in relief. "Oh. That's not far at all."

"Nope."

The conversation went quiet for a while, a comfortable silence forming between the two teenagers. You rested your head on Eddie's shoulder, feeling his hair tickle the side of your cheek.

It didn't go unnoticed by either of you that, without directly saying it, you both wanted to spend the upcoming summer together.

Eddie continued to sneak glances of his watch. Midnight was slowly approaching.

☾

Wait on me girl Cry in the night if it helps But more than ever I simply love you More than I love life itself

☾

(song lyrics credit: "I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues" by Elton John)

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[lovelywhiteroses]

hope you eat well tomorrow. Adam or CAKE band with a famous chef mc that does a brunch for them, unfortunately a Karen approaches them?

✨🌹This is very late I apologize for the very long wait! Ahem! Let’s get started shall we?🌹✨

It’s been awhile since Adam and YOU finally decided to drop the whole running and hunting game, and decided to try and have a normal relationship, of course your still wary of him but he’s keeping his end of the bargain to reconcile pretty fine, soon it came upon thanksgiving. You didn’t want to spend the holiday with your chaotic family members, and didn’t really have the money to go out and buy whatever you want right now so Adam invited you to spend thanks giving with him and his whole boy band, otherwise known as CAKE. You decided to accept it will help you in trusting him a bit more, and you could even get to know him more. It was a win win!………

Until……… one of his band mates forgot forgot to get the turkey…… so now you and Adam are now at the store getting a turkey…

“Ugh stupid-…… son of a-……”

You’d hear Adam mumbling underneath his breath, you looked around awkwardly not knowing if you should talk to him or not… but one thing you noticed was that there was a woman looking at you and Adam. She had a little kid in her cart and once she noticed you looking she gave a little ‘hmph’ and left into another isle. That was…… odd……

Once you and Adam got the turkey you two would eventually start talking, after paying for it and getting out of the store Adam felt a tap on his shoulder. It was the lady from earlier.

“Um I’m sorry but don’t you think it’s inappropriate for you to have an upside down cross for an earring? Don’t you feel ashamed of yourself?”

Adam’s calm demeanor quickly turned into a frustrated tone, along with yours. Of course it’s a Karen…… no wonder she was looking at you two……

“Look ma’am we really need to get going, so if you don’t mind-.”

“Ugh! Stay out of this, I wasn’t talking to you! Learn to speak when you’re spoken to…”

Adam really didn’t like that… the Karen then went off upon respect your elders and how an upside down cross was like a stab to the heart for ‘their’ religion. Adam finally had enough.

“Talk shit like that again and I’ll stick an actual knife in that heart of yours…”

He gave a menacing stare at her, which scared both you and her. She quickly left after that, but the more important question is, where was her kid? Did she leave them in her car?! But anyways you see Adam sigh as he then tugs you to walk with him. You did so, and you have to say, when he stood up to that Karen when they went after you instead of him, it helped gain a bit more trust, the next Day was Thanksgiving and you had a good time. No stabbing or anything… like I said before… it’s a win win!

✨🌹Sorry this is short. I do have to catch up with other requests… also again I apologize for how late this is…… good day, afternoon, or night.🌹✨

[tbyfandoms]

Against All Odds | Jake Pearson x Reader

Pairing: jake pearson x f!reader

Word Count: 14.6k

Summary: while on vacation with her best friends’ family, y/n gets a lot more than she bargained for when she encounters both love and…aliens!? (requested)

Warnings: descriptions of violence

Masterlist/Request Form | Ask/Tell/Request

A/N: dude someone tell me why this fic is SO LONG??? I knew it would be a little lengthy since I basically copied and then rewrote the whole aliens in the attic movie but ohmygod lmao?! anyways, even though this is apparently my longest fic to date, it was also one of the most fun ones I've written! although cheesy and mildly unrealistic, I love this movie so much and appreciate getting a request for austin's character, jake. I hope you all (especially the person who requested this) enjoy! as always lmk what you think! :)

The sunlight shines brightly on your face as you step out of the car. Your hand goes up instinctively to shield your eyes, and with what little shade it provides for you you’re able to take in the house before you.

It’s gorgeous to say the least. The Pearsons’ rented holiday house is unlike anything you’ve seen before, especially in person. There seems to be about a million different rooms from what you can tell, and if the house looks this good on the outside, you can’t wait to see what it’s like inside.

Bethany told you what the house would be like, but actually seeing it for yourself totally puts it into perspective. The lake looks like it’s sparkling and all you can see for miles is green trees upon green trees. The air smells crisp, fresh. This place is everything and more that you could want for a week long getaway.

Wow.

“Quite the place, huh?” Tom steps besides you and mirrors you in looking up at the house. “Too bad it’s in the middle of nowhere.”

You can see the agitation taking over the brunette’s face. It’s no secret he’d rather be anywhere else but here. Things have been tense with Tom and his parents lately, what with everything going on at school. It hurts you to see him like this, but you also wish he would just let loose and stop being so lost in his head for once.

“C’mon, Tommy, it’s not that bad. There are worse places you could be than at a beautiful lake house with your family and best friend.” You grin at him and feel a tiny sense of relief when you see his own smile start to crack through his facade.

The boy rolls his eyes before shaking his head and adjusting the strap of the bag on his shoulder. “Sure, whatever you say. Let’s go inside so I can pick the best room before my cousins get here.”

Laughing, you nod before going to get your own bags from the car. Mr. and Mrs. Pearson smile warmly at you as they hand you your stuff. They’ve always been the sweetest to you and you’re so grateful to them for letting you come on their little family vacation. The Pearsons are like your second family and you wouldn’t trade them for the world.

“Bethany, are you coming with me to go pick out our room?” You turn around to try and locate your best friend, and when you do it seems she’s already set her mind on heading straight to the pool.

“You go on ahead, I’ll be up in a bit! Just wanna get started on my…summer tan.” She winks at you before hurrying off towards the pool. You wish she was actually that excited about kickstarting her sun bath, but in reality she just wants to be out here when her new boyfriend, Ricky, shows up.

Bethany told you all about her plan to essentially sneak Ricky in on the family vacation. The guy gives you the total creeps and he isn’t worth half the trouble he and Bethany get up to, but if he makes your best friend happy then so be it.

You thought about telling Tom what Bethany was up to, but you figured it wasn’t worth the trouble. Mr. and Mrs. Pearson love Ricky and clearly can’t see how much of a tool he really is, so they wouldn’t believe anything Tom would say anyways. And besides, you don’t feel like it’s your place to convince them otherwise even if you are like family to them.

Whatever’s gonna happen will happen, and you just hope it won’t cause too much drama. You’re all here to relax, have fun, eat some good food, and make lifelong memories—so that’s all you plan on doing. Hopefully.

Catching up with Tom, you both make your way inside and take in the expansive foyer. The place is definitely dated and fitting for a house in the middle of Nowhere, Michigan, but it’s still nice nonetheless.

“Ugh, so lame,” Tom winces from beside you, and you turn to see him pointing at one (of countless) fish hung up on the wall. It’s huge and definitely does not do anything to tie the room together, but what else could you expect from a place like this?

Laughing, you steer your brunette companion towards the staircase. “Forget the fish, let’s go find our rooms!”

“Alright, alright! Y’know I don’t know why you’re so excited about this. All we get to do out here is go fishing or bake ourselves outside by the pool.”

“I don’t know why you’re not so excited about this. I know things have been tense with your parents lately, but maybe this vacation can be a good thing! Maybe you and your parents will find some common ground?”

Tom glances at you briefly out of the corners of his eyes as you make your way up the stairs, trying to decide if you’re being serious. You of all people know there’s a minuscule chance of that happening. He grumbles out, “Not likely.”

Not wanting to press him any further, you let it go. For now. Leaving Tom at the top of the stairs, you go off to find a good room for you and Bethany to share. You know she isn’t picky and most likely won’t even be sleeping there if her plan with Ricky works out. The thought makes you shudder so you pick a random room, throw your bags down, and quickly find Tom before your brain can make up any more assumptions.

Once you do find him, you can tell just by the look on his face that him being able to pick his room first didn’t help much. You’re not sure how Mr. and Mrs. Pearson found this place, but it’s extremely obvious it’s supposed to be for families with younger kids, much younger.

There are toys and little sports knickknacks all around the room, perfect for a boy, but definitely not one Tom’s age or even Tom in general. You fight your smile as he turns to you and groans weakly.

The pity party doesn’t last long though as suddenly loud music can be heard along with tires screeching. You and Tom make your way to the window to see who’s acting as if the roundabout driveway is a racetrack. Tom already knows, but you’re completely clueless. Even though you’ve been Tom and Bethany’s best friend for as long as you can remember, you’ve somehow never met any of their extended family. The only time Bethany and Tom ever really see them is during family vacations, and so since you’ve never tagged along before this will be your first encounter with them.

“Who is that?” You question as you watch a guy around Mr. Pearson’s age hop out of the front seat. There’s someone else that was in the passenger seat, but he moves too quickly to the trunk so you can’t make him out.

“That would be my Uncle Nate,” he says and then continues when an older woman gets out of the back seat. “And my Nana. The twins are probably still in the car glued to their Nintendos and my cousin Jake, well, he’s right there.”

You tear your eyes away from Nana as you watch her give Hannah some sort of candy. The sight makes you smile. Moving towards Tom more you notice instantly who he’s talking about. Jake, as Tom said, is tall and from what you can tell, decently tan. His hair looks like a mop of honey sand (if that’s even a thing) and the energy he gives off is palpable.

Something inside of you pulls towards him, interests you. But before Tom can catch on you pull away from the window, making yourself busy with helping him unpack.

The distraction only works for so long before suddenly you hear multiple sets of footsteps coming up the stairs. Your eyes jolt to the door and are instantly met with the blonde boy you were staring at just a few moments ago.

He’s saying something to the twins but instantly stops in his tracks as he takes in your presence. The way his blue, incredibly blue, eyes quickly trail up and down your body leave your cheeks feeling warm.

“Hi, I’m Jake,” he says, flashing you a smile as he rocks back and forth on his heels, hands nestled deep in his shorts pockets.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m one of Tom and Bethany’s best friends. It’s nice to meet you!” You give a little wave and then instantly curse yourself for doing so. What was that Tom said earlier? So lame.

“You as well,” Jake says as his eyes flick from you to Tom and then back again. He can’t wrap his mind around how his cousins have kept you from him all this time. He’d definitely need to get more intel once you left.

“Don’t be modest, Y/N. You’re our only best friend,” Tom teases as he wraps an arm around your shoulder. You roll your eyes and nudge him lightly in the side with your elbow.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, a message from Bethany popping up on the screen asking you to meet her by the pool. Thank God for that girl, even without knowing it she has impeccable timing. Now you don’t have to worry about being any more awkward around Jake. You’re sure there will be other opportunities later, but for now you have an out.

“Speaking of, Bethany’s waiting for me by the pool. I’ll catch up with you in a bit,” you say to Tom before walking towards and around his cousins. You smile at the twins and glance at Jake before quickly saying, “See you guys later.”

Once you’re out of earshot, Jake jumps into action, picking up right where he left off when he came in and more importantly getting information on you.

“Twins, get these out of here,” he says as he points towards Tom’s luggage.

“Woah woah woah, wait a minute. Why do you get the best room? I was here first!” Tom protests.

“Never mind that!” Jake urges, waving his hand as if Tom getting kicked out is nothing. “Dude, why have I never met Y/N before, and why have you never thought to tell me about her?!” The blonde races to the window, trying to get a glimpse of you as you walk out the front door.

Tom rears his head back in confusion, not understanding his cousin’s sudden interest in his best friend. The two of you spoke for a minute, not even. It’s not exactly a match made in heaven.

Meeting up with Jake by the window, Tom decides to answer his burning questions anyways. “Well, she’s never come with us on family vacation before. Every time we invited her she had other commitments or didn’t want to overstep. My mom and dad finally convinced her to come this year since she’s practically family, so here she is.” Tom spots you as you walk over to Bethany by the pool. Just from the looks of it his sister is losing her mind over something. He’s had a feeling she’s been planning some scheme but Tom still can’t figure out what it is. He shakes it off and continues. “And besides, why would I tell you about her? It’s not like you go to school with us or anything.”

“Unfortunately,” Jake mumbles as he locks his eyes on you. Tom looks from his cousin to you and catches on to what he’s so intent on watching. You’re pulling your shirt off to soak up the sun with Bethany by the pool, and the way Jake is ogling you is definitely something he didn’t need to witness. “Hey is she single by chance?”

“Ok first of all, ew, and second of all, never gonna happen! Nice try, though.”

“Oh, c’mon, Tom! What’s the big deal! She’s insanely gorgeous and she’s got this cute awkward thing about her,” Jake grins, peeling his eyes away from the window to give his cousin his full attention.

“The big deal is she’s my and Bethany’s best friend! She’s not some random girl you can just try to get with. Sorry, Jake, but it’s not gonna happen.”

Before the blonde gets a chance to reply, Tom’s dad calls from the foyer for him to come down and help unload. Tom shoots Jake a knowing look before heading out of the room.

“We’ll see about that,” Jake whispers to himself, intent on at least getting to know you better.

*****

To say you’re less than thrilled when Ricky pulls up in the driveway would be an understatement. What makes it even worse is the way Bethany quite literally throws herself at him. When Ricky tells her to “give papa some sugar” that’s what really throws you over the edge. You’re glad Tom says something before you ultimately had to.

Why, oh why couldn’t she have just gone out with the nice guy from calculus class you recommended!?

Witnessing his interaction between Bethany and Tom’s parents was unnerving and when Ricky brought up having car trouble, you knew it was all just part of the plan. You caught Tom’s eye for a second and the look he had on his face just further confirmed it. You knew immediately he’d caught on to what Bethany’s been up to.

When Mr. Pearson leads you all outside so he can try and fix Ricky’s car, your heart swells at his kindness even though you know the man has no clue what he’s doing, but on the other hand your brain starts sounding off alarms that make you wanna shake your best friends’ father until he snaps out of his usual parent obliviousness.

The only good thing that comes out of standing outside by Ricky’s precious car is that you’ve somehow ended up next to Jake. The close proximity of the blonde and you sends goosebumps shooting up your arm. It’s like tiny zaps of electricity are bouncing between the minimal space between your arms and for some reason you’d do anything to know what it’d feel like to actually be touching him.

You can feel Jake sneaking little glances at you while everyone else watches Mr. Pearson fiddle with things under the car hood. In a moment of boldness, you meet his eyes and smile at the redness that blooms on the apples of his cheeks.

Time goes too fast because in a flash Mr. Pearson is done being dumbfounded by the car and you’re being whisked away with Bethany and her boyfriend while Jake trails after Tom back into the house. You both look back at precisely the same time to spot each other and the moment leaves you feeling giddy all the way back to the pool.

While Bethany and Ricky settle into two of the lounge chairs, you decide instantly to move yours over as far as possible while still being by the pool. When Bethany questions it you assure her it’s just to give the two of them space so they can connect and she calls you sweet for it. In reality you don’t want to be anywhere near that infuriating man and would rather not have to listen in on their inevitable cutesy talk. Gag.

After a while you begin to contemplate just going back inside to meet up with Tom or maybe play a game with Hannah, but out of nowhere you catch movement in the grass not far off to the side of you.

You sit up and squint to get a better look, and when you finally realize what and who it is, you’re too late to do any questioning. Pops start to go off and you do your best to try and figure out what’s being shot, but you don’t have to wonder long because Bethany and Ricky both begin screaming. When you spot the orange splatters covering the both of them, the dots begin to connect themselves.

Bethany gets up and you don’t even think about interfering with her. When she’s pissed, she’s pissed. You watch as she goes over and rips the paintball gun out of Tom’s grasp and rips him a new one. Wincing at the sight of it all, you grab your stuff as well as Bethany’s and follow her and Ricky inside where you’re sure a spectacle is about to occur.

*****

To say Tom’s dad is livid would be selling it short. The lecture started practically as soon as he and Jake walked through the front door. You had to restrain yourself from laughing as you took in the sight of Jake. He looked like a literal shrub! Tom’s dad gave them both a few minutes to clean up before forcing them to sit at the dining room table. He played it off as giving them time to think about what they did before being reprimanded, but you know it’s because he wouldn’t be able to be in full lecture mode with Jake looking like that. You know you wouldn’t either.

As you stand off to the side, not wanting to insert yourself too much, you watch as Mr. Pearson goes in on them. He has some points, but if he knew what Ricky’s really like, he probably wouldn’t be as upset. It takes all you’ve got to not point out the fact Ricky is mocking him behind his back. Once again, that guy is such a tool.

All of a sudden, Nana is banging her cane against the TV and complaining about it being broken. She’s the sweetest but obviously you don’t mess with her and her TV.

Of course Ricky’s the first to jump in and offer to help which leads to Tom being hassled into joining him on the roof. It doesn’t seem like a good combination, especially after everything that just happened, but off he goes. As he passes you, you reach out and squeeze his arm lightly, whispering a “good luck”. He smiles at you halfheartedly, clearly already feeling defeated and it hasn’t even been a full day. It’s not long before Jake rushes after him (but not before catching your eye and nearly running into you as he passes, which leaves you feeling lightheaded in the best way possible). Hopefully with the both of them Ricky won’t be too much of a problem.

With nothing else to do while Bethany complains to her dad about Tom, you wander over to where Tom and Bethany’s younger cousins and sister are. The twins, Art and Lee, are playing some sort of video game that seems cool so you watch them play for a bit while also keeping an eye on Hannah. She’s playing with her toys and it astounds you how immersed she can become in her own little world. Oh how you wish you could go back to that time.

The twins’ game starts getting intense and you find yourself locked in on their skills. You know being addicted to video games isn’t the best for them in the grand scheme of things, but at least it looks cool.

When you turn towards Hannah you’re startled to see she’s disappeared. She was right there just a second ago, but now she’s gone. Her toys being the only things left behind.

Loud banging starts to come from upstairs and you watch as even the twins seem interested as to what’s going on up there. They pause their game and look at you before it’s all silently agreed upon that the three of you should check it out.

By the time you get up to the attic you can hear screaming and even more banging around. You’re the last to reach the top, and you become confused as you notice Hannah seems frozen in place by the window and that Art and Lee are looking at each other as if they’re bickering about something.

You rush over to them and your heart rate picks up rapidly as you notice Jake banging on the window, begging for someone to open it. Reaching out, you unclasp the lock and step back as both Jake and Tom stumble inside.

You’re completely lost on what’s going on, confused as to why Tom is yelling at everyone to get downstairs when suddenly something is crashing its way through the window, shattered glass flying everywhere.

The room is dead silent as four small things stand before you all. The air seems to completely leave your lungs as you gasp at the sight. What are those things?

“Creepy crawlies,” Hannah squeaks out, obviously terrified over these newfound intruders. You reach for her, guiding her back towards you and away from whatever those creatures are. One of them starts to mimic Hannah and once they begin to advance, you all fly down the attic steps.

You get the twins and Hannah out first, you following closely behind. Tom and Jake are right behind you and as you go to help the twins bring up the ladder to try and stop the invaders from following you, you’re eyes go wide as you watch both the brunette and the blonde tumble down the steps, the two of them falling flat on their faces.

“Are you guys ok?” You rush out as you go to kneel by them, wanting to make sure they didn’t get knocked out. They turn around and seem okay but for some reason Jake grasps Tom by his collar and pins him down, demanding him to prove he’s not a zombie, whatever that means.

“You wet the bed until you were ten! A zombie wouldn’t know that!” Jake goes rigid and looks sheepishly at you before turning back towards Tom.

“Thanks a lot, man.” You giggle before your head snaps back towards the entrance to the attic, the door flying open again as the little gremlins try to make their way out.

Instantly, you, Tom, and Jake are up on your feet doing all you can to stop them from coming down. The twins and Hannah are freaking out and you feel bad for Art as he screams that he's been scratched.

With Jake’s help you’re able to slam the door shut, chopping off the nails of one of the martians in the process. Tom latches the rope tightly and for now it works, but something tells you it won’t last long.

Your best friend yells out that you all have to call the police and that’s exactly what you have in mind as you go racing to the boys’ shared room.

As soon as you get there you’re all checking your phones, but none of them work. The signal’s dead and the thought of not being able to call for help makes your heart sink.

You look to Tom in hopes he has something in mind, but the uncertainty doesn’t last long thankfully as Hannah finds a phone on the desk and says it’s working. Art hurries over to it but complains there’s no buttons.

“That’s a rotary phone, there are no buttons, you have to spin it,” you explain as you go over there to dial it for him. The phone begins to ring and you hand it over to Tom so he can explain exactly what’s going on to the police.

The call seems to be going okay from what you can tell, but then Tom starts saying “Hello?” over and over again into the phone and with that you know the line’s gone dead.

“We have to tell our parents,” he says as he hangs up the now useless phone. Everybody nods and heads towards the door when out of nowhere there’s banging on one of the windows.

Slowly, everyone advances towards the window. You watch as Jake reaches out and snatches open the curtain. You all jump back as Ricky’s face appears. He’s upside down and swinging side to side. As Jake opens the window and pokes him with one of Hannah’s toys, Ricky begins saying something, but it becomes clear he’s not talking to you guys. It’s the aliens and they’re arguing with each other and it’s all being relayed to you through him. Weird.

Tom explains to everyone that what’s happening with Ricky is like a bluetooth device. The guy’s a human speaker at this point. The aliens go on and on until Ricky’s body becomes too heavy for the rope he’s attached to to hold him up anymore. He goes flying down the side of the house and it does not sound pretty when he hits the ground.

Per usual Tom starts piecing things together. You’ve always loved how his brain could work like that, God knows it always helped you, him, and Bethany when you needed a good plan to get out of trouble. It seems he hasn’t lost his touch unlike how he’s been pretending he has.

Good news is apparently the mind control device the aliens are using won’t work on any of you since you’re all still considered kids. Bad news is, Tom’s parents, his uncle, and Nana are all at risk of being controlled. Also apparently Ricky’s a senior in college which is why the chip worked on him. Wonderful.

The twins want to go tell the adults what’s going on, and part of you agrees but also realizes it won’t help the situation at all. If anything it’ll make it worse because as soon as those aliens lock eyes on them, they’re done for.

Jake starts going on about practically bringing in the national guard which blows your mind on how someone can come up with an even worse plan. Imagine having armed alien zombies. At least he’s pretty, you think.

Tom takes command and starts telling everyone that you can’t tell any adults about what’s going on. It’s up to you guys to fix this and send these aliens back to where they came from. Everyone seems to understand but when you all look towards Hannah to make sure she’s got it, she’s gone.

Crap.

*****

After finding Hannah and narrowly convincing Mr. and Mrs. Pearson, as well as Nate, that everything was okay, you all regrouped and started to brainstorm. Jake took charge and essentially turned on his commander mode which was a little funny but also pretty impressive.

You’ll definitely decide on which one it is after you see the outcome of this plan he’s enacted. Jake’s brought you all outside to the side of the house and it’s apparent that he plans on climbing the vines and seeing what’s going on with the aliens in the attic.

You’re honestly just hoping he makes it there and back in one piece at this point.

Once Jake starts climbing, Tom decides he’s going up there with him. It’s hard watching Jake climb up there, but now watching the both of them? You squeak out to Hannah to tell you when it’s over, and she nods while calling after Tom to be careful.

They seem to be doing alright. The rickety wooden structure they’re clinging to is making you nervous but it should be fine, right?

Wrong, Jake loses his balance and both boys come plummeting to the ground. You swear you can hear a bone snap as they hit the grass. The three younger kids “ooo” and “ahh” over the harsh landing, while you fly over to them to make sure they’re alive.

“I knew this was a bad idea! Are you guys okay!?” You once again find yourself kneeling beside both boys. Tom shoots up from the ground but Jake seems to be taking his time so you lean into him, placing your hand lightly on his shoulder. “Jake, are you hurt?”

He looks up at you with clear blue eyes and a smile on his face that lets you know him being hurt is definitely not the reason he’s still laying on the ground. “I’m fine now that you’re here.”

You find yourself at a loss for words as a smile breaks out on your face. He’s so cheesy but man is it endearing. Tom scoffs from the side of you and you look up at him timidly.

“I’m fine, Y/N, thanks for asking!” He huffs while brushing off bits of leaves from his shirt.

“Hey I asked if you were alright! You shot up so fast I figured you must be happy and healthy considering you had all that speed! Besides, Jake was still laying on the ground, there could’ve been something wrong with him.”

Tom chuckles and nods his head. “Oh there’s something wrong with him alright!” Jake glares at him and you can tell there’s something between them you don’t know about, but before you can question it and before Jake can retaliate Tom is ushering everyone to get a move on. “We’ve got to get to the basement!”

Before any more bickering can ensue, you’re all rushing back to the house but get stopped short as Bethany rounds the corner asking if you’ve seen Ricky.

Your eyes dart quickly to his body that’s still laying on the side of the house from when he fell earlier, and you rack your brain trying to come up with a good excuse.

“I think he said he was gonna go sit by the lake to work on his tan!” You rush out as Bethany starts to turn towards Ricky’s body. “He told us he wanted you to meet him there so I’d definitely head on over, it looked like he wanted to talk!”

Bethany looks at everyone skeptically, finding it odd you’ve seemed to create this group when she never would’ve guessed for all her siblings and cousins to find common ground, especially with her best friend. But she appears to accept it as she shrugs and thanks you before marching off towards the lake. You all let out a collective breath before dashing into the house and heading down to the basement.

*****

Looking through all of these random items in the basement has you feeling a little squeamish. You swear some of the laundry that’s in these baskets has been down here for half a decade.

Moving a few tarnished boxes aside, you jump a little when you feel someone come up next to you. You turn and realize it’s just Jake and let out a small laugh, trying to settle your nerves.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, smiling sheepishly. You shake your head to let him know it’s ok and you watch as he starts to mindlessly look through boxes around you. “So, how long have you known Tom and Bethany?”

“Oh practically my whole life! I met Tom in Kindergarten and I met Bethany after he invited me over to hang out.” You smile as you think back on the memory. “I’ve been inseparable from them ever since.”

“That’s really nice, they seem to care a lot about you,” Jake replies. The blonde seems to lose his usual cocky attitude for a moment as he continues, “I’m glad you came along with them.”

Your eyes meet and even in the shadowy darkness of the basement, you can still see all the sea blue hues his contain. “Me too,” you whisper.

Jake moves one of his hands at the same time you do to search through more of the boxes and it causes them to collide. Somehow neither of you jump back from the contact, instead you bask in it. Jake practically has his pinky wrapped around yours, warmth traveling every which way in your guys’ hands.

The feeling is incredibly comforting. You don’t know what it is that draws you to Jake, or why you feel it in the first place, you just know it feels good, right.

For a minute you feel like you could stay like this forever, but then Tom’s voice rings out through the basement.

“I’m telling you, their map led down here.”

You and Jake break apart, he grins at you before turning towards his cousin. “You sure about that?”

“Ssh,” Hannah says. “You hear that? Rice Krispies.”

Everyone moves towards the center of the basement and is dead quiet. You strain your ears to try and see what Hannah’s talking about and after a second you can hear it. Some sort of static.

Art pulls out his Nintendo DS and hands it to Tom. You peak over his shoulder and notice the screen is completely messed up. It’s like some other-worldly message has taken over both screens. Tom immediately confirms it’s the aliens.

The group disperses and you start to search again with Tom as Jake hurries towards a bucket of gardening tools. “Well whatever it is, we can’t let them get to it! Everyone, gear up. We move on my command.”

You and Tom exchange a glance before moving back towards Jake. Tom starts to talk about needing a plan, that just going after them with random junk will do nothing good. You hate to say it considering your feelings for Jake, but you agree with him. It’s too dangerous to go up there with nothing but a whim.

Jake argues with the brunette, set on heading straight for the aliens with what they’ve got. He motions for the twins and you notice they’re immediately on board with their brother.

“Y/N, are you coming?” Jake looks to you in solidarity, but you unfortunately can’t give it to him.

“I’m sorry, Jake. I’m with Tom on this one.” The look that flashes in the boy’s eyes, disappointment, makes you frown. But you won’t change your mind, having a plan is the best option in this case. Jake nods at you before racing up the stairs with the twins, leaving you with Tom and Hannah.

“Guess it’s up to us, guys,” you say, grinning softly at Hannah and Tom. Your best friend smirks at the two of you, a plan no doubt already forming.

“Hannah,” Tom says. “Hand me that tape.”

*****

It’s impressive how quickly Tom was able to come up with a…weapon? You wouldn’t necessarily call it a weapon considering what it is, but at least it’s something and you’re sure it’ll help in some capacity.

As you rush up the stairs to get to the attic, you already begin to hear yelling coming from the other boys. Tom looks at you and Hannah before suggesting you stay behind him.

Tom goes to open the door and as soon as he does the yelling intensifies. You can’t make out what the others are saying but the moment you step foot in the room, you get the idea.

Immediately you’re lifted off the floor, a weightless feeling settling over your body. In an instant you find yourself practically attached to the ceiling along with everyone else. You’ve never felt anything like this before and under any other circumstances you’d think it was cool.

Looking towards the attic you notice two of the aliens hop down easily to the floor. One of the twins yells out something about anti-gravity boots and in this moment you wish with everything you’ve got that you had a pair of those boots right about now.

Jake calls for Tom to use his weapon but before he even sets it off you know it’ll be useless in this situation. As soon as Tom pushes the trigger, the potato slowly flies through the air like everything else in the room and does nothing to stop the aliens. Yikes.

“Hurry, Tommy!” Hannah yells and you look around the room to find anything that might help.

You find your answer right next to your best friend. “Tom! Use the fire extinguisher, it’s right there!”

The brunette looks to his side and finds exactly what he needs. As quick as he can he unlatches it and sets it off, sending him flying across the room. Tom reaches the door, closes and locks it, before spraying the aliens with what’s left in the container. You cheer at the small victory.

“Jake, get the grenade!” Tom calls out and in no time his cousin is doing exactly that. In an impressive set of moves Jake is able to use the lack of gravity to his advantage and dive to the floor to get the device causing everyone to float. He throws it towards Tom and as if it was a baseball bat Tom uses the extinguisher to smash the anti-gravity device to pieces.

Immediately you find yourself falling to the ground, meeting a not so soft landing. You groan and turn to the side, finding Jake lying next to you. He sits up quickly and reaches his hand out towards you. Graciously accepting it he pulls you up and you stumble into him, finding yourself mere inches from his face.

“Thanks for the help,” you let out airily, suddenly finding it hard to breathe as you look in his eyes and feel his cool breath on your lips.

“Anytime.”

Hearing a commotion by the door, you notice Tom has started using the fire extinguisher for something else, this time to beat the aliens back. In no time they come to realize there’s no where else for them to go so they’re scurrying back into the attic. Before the attic door closes something falls from one of the aliens’ grip and clatters to the floor. You help Jake secure the door before going to investigate whatever it is.

The twins have a hold of it and are going back and forth on who gets to see it first. Something tells you that their tug of war with the device is doing more harm than good, but who knows?

Jake marches over and halts their bickering instantly, warning them it’s not a toy and that what’s happening is very much real. You look over and see Tom’s discovered something outside the window, so you walk over to see what’s caught his attention.

“Ricky?” You question, taking in the fact that controller must but what they were using to control him earlier. Tom smirks and nods his head. “Well this should be fun.”

“Get him before somebody finds him. I’ll stand on alien watch,” Jake says before handing the controller back to his brothers.

Tom and the twins make their way out the door, but you stay behind with Jake and Hannah. “Need a helping hand?”

Jake looks at you and smiles, lightly shrugging one of his shoulders before saying, “From you? Always.”

You try to hide the way he so easily makes you smile by busying yourself. “Let’s move this couch over, we can use it as cover incase the aliens try anything.”

The blonde moves to help you push the couch and as you set it into place he says, “I like the way you think.”

Softly biting the inside of your cheek, you look away so you don’t melt right here on the floor. When you turn, you’re met with Hannah’s mischievous grin. She holds her sock monkey close and gives you a look that lets you know she’s so onto you and her cousin.

The little girl doesn’t even have to say anything because she knows, as do you, that you’re falling for a certain lanky blonde and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

*****

As you stand guard with Hannah and Jake, you take in the fact it’s been really quiet for a while. You guess it’s better than the aliens actively trying to attack, but it’s definitely suspicious.

You and Jake haven’t spoken since you moved the couch, wanting to be on high alert, but even without talking he’s still distracting you. There have been countless moments since the three of you took cover behind the couch where Jake would accidentally bump into you or brush his shoulder against yours. Each time it sent a strike of electricity through you, and each time he wouldn’t make a move to scoot over. Neither would you.

It’s like a game of cat and mouse and even though there are clearly bigger things to deal with and stay focused on, it excites you and makes you feel giddy. Although the circumstances are less than ideal, you’re so happy to be sharing this time with Jake. He’s chaotic and a little unhinged at times, but you can tell he’s a softie underneath it all and is just trying to look after his family.

Turning to look at the boy on your mind, he feels your stare and moves to make contact, but before he gets the chance Tom and the twins are making their way up the stairs and into the room with you guys. You move over some and instantly feel the lack of Jake’s presence.

The blonde starts filling in his cousin and brothers and gets info on Ricky when all of a sudden you hear movement in the vents. Jake questions it and Tom rushes out that the aliens are using their map to try and get to the basement. All they need is the vents and they’ll end up right where they want to be. Oh God.

*****

“So you’re sure this is gonna work?” You question as Tom turns up the heat on the thermostat. It seems like a solid plan, but from what you’ve seen so far these aliens can handle pretty much anything.

“Let’s find out shall we?”

Hustling back up the stairs the twins inform you all that the aliens seem pretty mad. As you head back into the room with the attic door you can hear the intruders rushing back to where they were hiding out. It worked!

Everyone celebrates the victory but it doesn’t last long as Mr. Pearson calls for everyone to go downstairs.

He questions why the heat is on and you all try to convince him it’s freezing in the house but he doesn’t seem to believe it. Tom fights him on it and tries to come up with more excuses, but you can tell things are starting to get escalated.

Mr. Pearson starts bringing up Tom’s misbehaviors that have happened since you all arrived, but what really snaps the chord is when he brings up Tom’s failing grades. What Tom says next shocks you.

“I failed them on purpose! Yeah I tanked my grades, okay? I’m tired of getting picked on because I’m a brainiac!” The comment makes your heart ache. You knew Tom had been struggling lately, you saw what went on at school but never knew he would resort to this. Everyone around you is silent, their own thoughts on this confession coursing through their heads.

Tom’s dad speaks up first. “I was a brainiac. It worked for me.”

“I don’t wanna be like you. I wanna be cool!” If you thought the room was quiet before, it’s nothing compared to now. Even Mr. Pearson’s gone silent and you can see the hurt on his face clear as day.

“Don’t touch the thermostat,” he says before turning to walk away. The younger kids start to go back upstairs and you, Jake, and Tom go to do the same.

“Is that true?” Jake asks. “You really fail on purpose?”

“Nobody likes a mathlete,” Tom sighs, and before he can get any farther up the stairs you stop him in his tracks, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him close to you.

“Your intelligence is one of the most special and unique parts of you. Never let anyone make you feel less just because they don’t understand that, okay?” You say into his ear, and the way he squeezes you in return lets you know he appreciates the sentiment. Letting go of him you continue up the stairs and say, “Now, what do we do? We can’t fight these things with your guys’ parents around.”

“We can’t just make them leave,” Jake replies, a stumped look on his face. This whole situation is hard to deal with and with only you guys to figure out a plan, it makes it even more challenging.

“Maybe we can,” Tom says looking between the both of you. “Here’s what I want you to do.”

*****

It blows your mind, even to this day, how Tom’s able to come up with the craziest and yet most genius plans. He takes Art to go track down Ricky because he’s going to somehow use him to get all the parents to leave the house. Meanwhile you, Jake, Hannah, and Lee create a type of spy camera out of some old Barbie toys. You connect everything and are able to see exactly what the car sees on a laptop, it’s perfect.

As you watch the screen, so far there’s nothing around. There’s a small part of you that hopes the aliens retreated and are giving up but there’s another part of you that knows there’s a slim chance of that happening.

Your thoughts are further confirmed as the camera gets flipped over and a squashed looking face pops up on the screen. Before you know it the lavender Barbie car is flying out of the open vent and smashing into pieces on the floor. Well, so much for that.

“C’mon, I have an idea,” Jake says as he rushes out of the room. You look at Hannah and Lee and you all shrug your shoulders before heading after the blonde. You and Hannah go straight for her cousin while Lee goes off to continue his part of the plan.

When you get to the hallway, you find Jake kneeling in front of the vent on the stairs, he has it open and appears to be throwing something inside of it. You get closer and realize he has some firecrackers. Must be more reinforcements he brought with him on vacation. You know, to go along with the paintball gun.

“Hey, not to question your plan or anything, but you’re not gonna set the house on fire, right?” You’re mostly joking…mostly. You kneel next to him and he laughs before throwing in another.

“Of course not! I just wanna wish those little space maggots a happy Fourth of July!” Jake smirks before taking out another firecracker from his pocket, this one looking a bit bigger than the last.

You just sit and hope Mr. and Mrs. Pearson have insurance…

Next thing you know Tom comes up the stairs with the twins and lets everyone know the coast is clear, the parents are gone. Jake revels in this and tosses in the larger firecracker he took out. The sound is loud and from the screams and fast footsteps you hear in the vents, you can tell it works to draw away the aliens.

Tom urges you and Hannah to go hide and although you can handle yourself, you agree to go along with the girl so she won’t be alone. Who knows what else these invaders have up their sleeves.

As soon as you and Hannah reach the room she’s staying in, you usher her under the bed, you sliding in after her. It’s not the best hiding spot but at least it’s something.

You can hear the aliens running through the vents and more firecrackers going off. It goes quiet for a second but then you hear some sort of clatter and feel something drop on the bed above you.

Both you and Hannah slowly slide out from under the bed a bit to try and see what it is. You’re met with a green face popping up from the top of the bed and it leads you and Hannah to start screaming. What’s weird though is that the alien starts screaming back!

He falls off the bed and lands right in a slinky that’s laying on the ground, he gets wrapped up in it and if you’re being honest the way he struggles with it and is mumbling to himself is kind of adorable.

The two of you feel bad for the little guy so you and Hannah each take an end of the slinky and begin to untangle him. The way he cowers and whispers that he comes in peace lets you know he’s completely harmless. As you remove the last ring of slinky, Hannah notices he has a cut and bandages him up.

It’s adorable in a crazy, weird type of way. So be it, though!

Once he’s all fixed up, the alien takes in his surroundings. He notices the toy instruments scattered on the floor and begins to play around with them a bit. Before you know it he’s a complete one man band and has a whole show going! It amazes you and Hannah and ends up with the two of you laughing and dancing around.

After he’s done Hannah begins to show him a bunch of her toys and even tells him about her bubble gun that’s been broken for a while. What stumped Hannah’s dad on what to fix is no problem for the alien and he has it fixed in practically seconds. It’s incredible.

While Hannah and the alien begin to talk about it, you see the boys rush into the room, immediately going into attack mode.

“Enemy armed! Enemy armed!” Jake starts to yell as he looks around for something to defend himself with.

“Hannah! Y/N! Step away from the alien!” Tom approaches the two of you while Jake grabs a bat, and Hannah instantly goes into defense mode at the sight of it.

“No! Leave him alone! He’s our friend!” She demands as she holds her arms out, doing what she can to stop the guys from advancing.

“He was just holding a ray gun to your head!” Art calls out and to prove him wrong Hannah picks up her bubble blower.

“It’s my bubble blower. He fixed it for me.” She holds up the gun for them to see and continues. “He’s not like the others.”

The four boys look to you for confirmation and you nod your head. “She’s telling the truth. He’s harmless and actually pretty sweet. Look!”

You motion for everyone to look under the bed where the little guy has retreated in fear. The moment you all lay on the ground, you can tell he’s unsure what to do. The alien cowers back towards the wall and looks more stressed than you during exams and that’s saying something.

“First sign of aggression I’m taking him out. With extreme prejudice,” Jake says, holding the bat he picked up close to him.

“Jake! I’m telling you, it’s fine, he’s fine! He’s not gonna hurt us. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true.” The boy looks at you and it’s obvious he trusts what you’re saying. He gives you a tightlipped smile and a nod but you can tell he’s still on guard. That’s fair, at least he’s backed off a little.

“It’s okay, Mr. Snuggle Lump,” Hannah coos from beside you. The name isn’t the best and you advised her not to name him considering he is an alien and definitely not a pet, but she insisted.

The boys question the name and Tom reiterates the fact she shouldn’t name him. The alien introduces himself amidst all his anxiety (his name is Sparks) and Hannah waves at him. Sparks returns her wave but immediately pulls his hand back, still unsure of his safety.

“Awh,” Jake smiles and you nudge him in a “See?” manner. He blushes and nudges you back, trying to recover by saying “I mean, ugh!” You just roll your eyes in response, smirking.

Tom asses Sparks’ tools and demeanor and suggests that you guys are right. He definitely doesn’t seem or appear like the others. He and Hannah coerce him out from under the bed and Sparks humors everyone by using some sort of static device to make Hannah’s hair stand up. It sends you all into a laughing fit.

Before long Tom and Jake want to jump into interrogation mode. They pull up a chair and a bright light and shine it on Sparks as if they’re in an episode of Law & Order. It’s a bit much but considering you’re all trying to save the world, you let it slide.

Tom and Jake shoot a million different questions at Sparks and he gets a little overwhelmed, but after a while he figures out the best way to explain it to everyone is by showing it. Tom gives him some paper and crayons and in no time Sparks has drawn a full diagram of the house and the objective they’re looking for.

What they’re after isn’t in the basement, it’s under it!

As Sparks continues to build diagrams out of Legos of what they’re after, Jake continues with quips about him. He goes on about how they can’t trust him and that Sparks is a freak. Hannah’s getting pretty upset about it all and honestly so are you.

Tom tries to convince Jake that Sparks is different from the others, but he’s still not having any of it. Tired of the back and forth, you pull Jake aside while Sparks continues to talk to everyone else.

“Look, blondie, you’re cute when you’re sarcastic but the straight up mean jabs towards Sparks is getting to be a little much! Hannah’s clearly upset about it and even though I know it’s insane to think we should trust this alien, I’m telling you we should! I mean even Tom, the brains, thinks we can trust him so I’m gonna need you to as well at least just a little bit!”

Jake peers down at you and that smirk you saw earlier returns to his pretty pink lips. “So you think I’m cute?”

You scoff as heat rises to your cheeks, the confidence you had a few seconds ago faltering a little as you look into the boy’s sparkling eyes. “That’s seriously all you got out of that?!”

The blonde shrugs and leans in a little closer to you. “Yeah, pretty much.”

Taking a daring step closer to Jake, you place your pointer finger on his chest, poking at it to annunciate your words. “All I’m saying is, if you’re not gonna trust Sparks at least trust me and your cousins. And stop throwing out insults to the alien! You’re hurting Hannah’s feelings.”

“Alright, I will.” Jake’s comedic tone disappears, a look of genuine understanding and trust passing through his eyes. The next second he’s back to his usual self. “You know, it’s kinda cute when you’re snappy.”

Humming, you tilt you head up towards the boy, finding yourself closer to him than you’ve ever been before. “You’re something else, Jake Pearson, you know that?”

“I get that a lot,” he cheekily replies. You roll your eyes and laugh before pushing him away from you lightly and walking back towards the rest of the group.

*****

“Woah!” You awe at Sparks’ work as Tom holds up his new and improved potato gun. You don’t know how he did it, the little guy works so fast, but he took something so simple and turned it into something amazing! You’d definitely want him as your electronic repairman—er, repairalien?

Everyone’s heads shoot up as beeping can be heard from outside. You and Jake hurry to the window and the first thing you see is a brown squad car. Great.

“It’s the po-po, be cool,” Jake urges and you stifle your laugh at his weird sayings. As if it couldn’t get any worse, though, someone starts banging on the bedroom door.

You listen in and realize it’s their grandma. You guess they weren’t able to get rid of everyone.

“Crap! We forgot about Nana!” Jake moves away from the window and goes to stand by Tom. From the look on your best friend’s face, you can tell he’s not convinced it’s his beloved grandmother. From the way she’s talking, you aren’t either.

“I may not know her extremely well, but I’d bet money that isn’t your Nana,” you say, jumping back a little when she knocks particularly loudly.

“Are you sure?” Jake questions. Not a second later and the door is flying forward, completely off it’s hinges. Nana growls at you all and if you weren’t one hundred percent sure before, you are now!

“Yeah, I’m sure!” You cry out. All of you start to take several steps back as Nana makes her way forward. She heads straight for Hannah and Sparks, so you, Tom, and Jake do all you can to prevent her from reaching them.

Nana throws Tom off to the side and then once she gets to Jake she’s sinking her teeth into his arm, leaving her dentures hanging on his arm as she pulls away. Gross! The horrified look on Jake’s face says it all.

Before Nana can reach Hannah, you plant yourself in front of her, doing your best to try and guide her away without hurting her, but it’s no use as she easily tosses you aside just like with Tom. You land on the floor with a thud.

“Do something, Tom!” Jake calls out as he tries to recover from the Nana-sized bite on his arm.

Thinking fast, Tom pushes a skateboard out in front of Nana and it sends her flying back. One of the aliens pops out from under her and lands on her chest. It’s doesn’t take him long to recover though and in a second he’s got Nana back up on her feet.

You try to think of something to stop him, but you don’t even need to as Hannah’s way ahead of you. She blasts the alien with her bubble gun and it sends him in a frenzy. Art gets ahold of Nana’s controller and in the chaos Tom’s able to trap the little thing in a fishing net.

Jumping to open a chest near the bed, you urge Tom to put him in there. You leave Jake to lock it and head over towards Hannah and her suitcase where she’s hidden Sparks. It’s obvious the aliens know he’s in there, so you have to do something to throw them off.

You help Hannah unzip the pink suitcase quickly, and lead Sparks to a mountain of pillows on the bed where he blends in perfectly. You do it not a moment too soon because when you turn around, the other aliens are running into the room looking to retrieve Sparks.

One of them gets their hands on Jake’s paintball gun and suddenly you’re all being shot at. You hit the deck along with everyone else and just like you thought they would, the aliens get away with the suitcase.

Tom turns towards you and Hannah, feeling disappointed in the loss of Sparks. “I’m sorry, guys. I’m sorry they got him.”

You and Hannah glance at each other, smiling, before you step forward and take the top pillows off the mountain you hid Sparks under. The two of you high five in excitement at outsmarting the aliens.

Per usual, every victory is met with a new challenge. The “po-po” as Jake likes to call them, starts speaking into his megaphone demanding for someone to open the door. It’s pretty doomed from what you can tell but you’re sure Tom will come up with something.

“You guys get rid of the cop. I’m going after the aliens,” Jake says as he starts to back out of the room. Immediately you’re not having any of it. No way he’s going alone.

“Wait!” You call after Jake and he stops in the doorway. You turn towards Tom before following the blonde. “You got this? He shouldn’t go alone.”

He nods his head. In the back of his mind he takes in the worried look on your face, the obvious signs his best friend is starting to care for his rambunctious cousin. He doesn’t fully love it, more-so because of Jake and his antics, but he accepts it. “Yeah, you go, I’ll handle it, don’t worry.” With that, you trail after Jake, stepping out into the hallway with him.

“Did you really think I was just gonna let you go after them on your own?” You look up at the boy and tilt you head, giving him a look of coy disbelief.

“I should’ve known better. My apologies,” he grins.

“I’ll accept it just this once. As long as you know we’re in this together. It’s you and me.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.” Surprising you, Jake intertwines one of his hands with yours, a flurry of butterflies erupting in your stomach instantly. “Let’s do this.”

And with that, the two of you race up the stairs, heading straight into whatever comes next.

*****

“Jake! He’s over there! He’s about to shoot someone!” Carefully stepping higher on the roof, you point off to the right, showing Jake exactly where the alien is.

“Not on my watch!” In a flash Jake throws a rake he found up on the roof. It successfully knocks the alien on his side, making him miss his shot.

The martian’s back on his feet in no time and you and Jake rush after him. He begins to repeat everything the boy says and it irritates the crap out of you. You really need to get these things out of here, now!

Leading you both back to the window to get inside, Jake’s the first to reach it and as he leans in, his body is instantly thrown back.

“Jake!” You race towards him and take in the paint splatters all over his face and chest. He’s almost completely knocked out. The boy reaches a hand out and tries to hold on to you, but it’s too late. As you turn back towards the window, you’re met with the male and female aliens, who strike you with the paintball gun, knocking you out cold.

*****

When you come to you almost get knocked out yet again. For some reason your head keeps getting thumped against something over and over and it feels as if you’re heading down a hill.

Opening your eyes fully and trying to get your bearings you realize you’re being dragged down the stairs. Each time you get pulled forward your head flies back onto the steps, causing an unbearable ache to start to bloom there.

You go to open your mouth to say something, but panic fills you as you realize you can’t. Your mouth has been stuffed with cloth and taped over, and the panic only intensifies when you go to move your arms and legs and note you can’t move them either. It’s as if your whole body has been bound together, leaving you no room to try and escape.

Heartbeat pounding in your ears, you find yourself unable to concentrate on anything, feeling as if you’re underwater and everything is being drowned out.

Your head lolls to the side and in doing so you come face to face with Jake’s head. You take in the fact he looks like he’s trying to say something to you, but you can’t make out any of it as he’s in the same situation you’re in. Tears fill your eyes as the feeling of being trapped sinks in. The ropes around your body start to rub as you become more awake and the feeling makes you feel like you’re on fire.

For such small aliens it takes them practically no time to drag you and Jake down to the basement. The trip down there is no easier than the one down the main stairs and you’re sure you’ll have splinters all over if and when you get out of here.

The thought of maybe not even surviving this whole thing only heightens your current emotions. Your breath becomes more ragged and you find it hard to even keep your eyes open as the aliens begin to dig in the ground and throw dirt towards you and Jake.

Noticing your obvious stress and wanting to do anything he can to try and help, Jake inches himself closer to you. He takes in your tear stained cheeks and rapid rise and fall of your chest as he turns his body and immediately feels an ache in his chest at the sight of it. He’s terrified, but the fact you have to go through this too makes it even worse. Part of him wishes he would’ve urged you to stay with the others so you wouldn’t be in this mess.

“Hey, Y/N, look at me!” Jake tries to grab your attention, but his voice comes out muffled due to the tape and cloth. The boy tries again, doing his best to try and talk to you.

Amidst your racing heartbeat and choke-backed sobs, you notice the movement beside you and can hear Jake’s muffled voice. You tilt your head and are met with his dirt-caked face. Even with all the mud, paint, and dim lighting coming from the alien’s tools, his eyes shine bright. The familiarity of them soothes you a bit but not enough as more dirt gets thrown your way and the aliens’ delighted voices reach your ears. It’s clear they’re getting closer to what they’re looking for.

You drop your head back to the ground, feeling defeated and so tired. The ache at the back of your head is starting to dull but it’s still throbbing, making you miserable and feeling like you can’t concentrate on Jake.

“No, c’mon, Y/N, keep your head up! Look at me, it’s okay!” Jake wishes with everything he’s got that he could somehow rip off the tape and cloth wrapped around his mouth. He’d give anything to just be able to talk to you clearly and try to ground you during this crazy experience.

Moving your head up and struggling to get closer to Jake, you do your best to try and stay focused on him. You can see the desperation on his face, his concern and empathy. It makes your heart swell that he cares so much about you and your well being when he’s going through the same exact thing.

The blonde tilts his head down and leans his forehead gently against yours. The warmth and light pressure of it allows you to focus on him and him alone. “It’s okay, I’m right here. I’m right here.” Jake’s muffled encouragement is hard to understand, but the intention is clear. You push back softly against his forehead, doing what you can to let him know that he’s helping you more than he could ever realize, that you’re here for him just as much as he’s here for you.

A bright light begins shinning from the ground and excited cheers follow. The aliens found what they were looking for. It’s actually happening, more aliens are going to invade planet earth.

As the aliens start grabbing what they need, it becomes clear they have no use for you and Jake. Before they leave to begin their invasion, they shove the two of you into the hole they created in the ground and that’s the last thing you see before everything goes dark.

*****

When you wake up it’s to the feeling of a decent sized weight being dropped on you. Dirt and rubble fly everywhere and you push yourself backwards, wanting to distance yourself from whatever it is.

A light flashes across your face and you’re sure it’s the aliens before suddenly everything comes into focus and your met with your best friends, Hannah, and the twins. Relief floods your body and you nearly burst into happy tears at the sight.

The group lifts you and Jake out of the rubble and you’ve never felt more grateful than you do in this moment, especially once Bethany and Hannah get the tape and ropes off of you. As soon as you’re able to move freely, you wrap your arms around them both, holding them close and thanking all your stars that you made it out of that situation alive. There’s still much to do, but in this moment you’re safe.

After getting intel from Jake, Tom comes over and hugs you as well, telling you he’s glad you’re okay. Once letting go of him, it’s no brainer that you lunge towards Jake, wrapping your arms around him and holding him as close as possible, taking in his warmth and tight grasp.

The blonde nuzzles his face into your neck, trying to get his brain to understand you’re both safe, you both made it, that it’s okay now. He rubs his hands up and down your back soothingly, almost using it as a technique to convince himself you’re here and in his arms.

“Thank you,” you whisper into the side of his head. Those two words holding a meaning so much more than anyone could ever understand.

“-your stupid brother and your dumb little cousins!” The snarky tone and comment has you shocked and causes you to turn out of Jake’s arms. It’s no question who the voice belongs to and when you see it’s being directed at your best friend, anger bubbles under the surface of your skin.

“Don’t talk about my family like that,” Bethany retorts

“Well you don’t have to worry about it anymore cause we’re done. I knew I should’ve stayed home and hooked up with Annie Filkins, she’s smokin’ hot and she doesn’t like talking about feelings all the time! I’m going straight to Annie’s.” Ricky starts to retreat back upstairs but you’re done with his crap. No one gets to talk to one of your best friends like that and get away with it. Especially not after the day you’re having.

“Hey, dirt bag!” You call out, stopping Ricky in his tracks. He turns towards you, a bored look on his face, and it takes everything in you not to smack it right off of him. Walking over to him you continue, “I don’t know what your problems is—actually I can think of about a million, but no one treats my best friend and her family like that and gets to walk away!”

Ricky scoffs at you and rolls his eyes, clearly not caring for anything you have to say. This only makes you more defensive of your friends. “Bethany is the greatest girl you ever had and ever will have! There’s absolutely no one out there who will ever put up with you the way she has, and I know for a fact she deserves a thousand times better than a guy like you! You’ve got some nerve acting all high and mighty when you’re nothing but a selfish jerk that likes to pick up girls half a decade younger than him. And honestly, Ricky, that’s all you ever will be.”

Ricky’s face heats up at this, not feeling as cocky as he was a second ago. “You know what? I don’t have to take this from you! I’m out of here!”

The guy turns around, starting to head back upstairs, but not before you can get one final jab in. “Have a nice trip!” Leaning forward, you kick your foot against the old wooden steps, causing Ricky to trip over his own feet. Unfortunately it doesn’t trip him up too bad, but the stumble you get out of him is enough to satisfy you for now.

When you turn away from the stairs, you’re met with Bethany’s tear-rimmed eyes and bright smile. Before you can even get a word out she has you wrapped in her arms. “You’re my best friend in the whole world, you know that?”

“Forever and always,” you say as you squeeze her in return. “I’m sorry things turned out like this between you.”

“I’m also really sorry,” Tom says as he comes up to the both of you.

“Don’t be, you guys were right all along,” Bethany says, a defeated tone evident in her voice. The sound breaks your heart.

“If it’s any consolation,” Tom says pulling something out of his pocket. “He’s not going straight to Annie’s or anywhere for a while.”

Looking closer at what the brunette has in his hand, you smirk as you realize what it is. A piece from Ricky’s car. It won’t start without it. Good job, Tom!

“Wow!” Bethany exclaims, clearly impressed with her brothers skills, for once.

“Guys, enough with the bonding, we’re at DEFCON one here!” Jake says as he comes over and ushers you all towards the back window.

Once you get a look outside, you know things are only going to get harder from here. The aliens have their whole set up going and you can tell it’s only a matter of time before their whole fleet of other aliens arrive.

“This is so bad,” you mutter, backing up from the window along with everyone else.

Bethany starts questioning things and Tom seems at a loss for answers, as are the rest of you. The boy urges everyone that you all have to stop them before it gets any worse and Hannah demands that Snuggle Lump (Sparks) be rescued. You honestly can’t blame the girl, from what you could see from the window, Sparks is getting treated even worse after his “alliance” with the humans. You worry about what they might do to him.

Lee helps Bethany understand what in the world a Snuggle Lump is and how he’s actually a good guy and once that’s settled, Tom insists everyone gets outside. Before anyone can get far, Jake’s calling out for you all to wait.

“Not so fast, I have a plan.” The look everyone gives him makes it obvious they’re already not so sure about this, Jake picks up on it immediately. “Work with me here! Did Nana give anyone mentos?”

Confused glances travel around the group and you catch Jake’s eye for a second, raising an eyebrow, before Tom asks, “Why?”

“Hand ‘em over!” The blonde rushes out, holding open his hands for everyone to drop their mints into. Without questioning it you all begin to empty your pockets, having enough pieces each to last all week. Nana sure does love to give out her mentos.

“What? We’re gonna throw candy at them?” Bethany questions, not understanding what kind of plan her cousin could possibly have in mind.

“No,” Jake says before looking over at you and from the look on his face you can tell he’s got something good up his sleeve. “My own little science project.”

The blonde moves fast, getting all of his supplies and setting them up in record time. At first you don’t understand what he’s up to, but once you get a good look at everything he’s grabbed, you get the idea, and you’d be lying if you were to say it isn’t incredible.

“Mentos bombs,” you whisper beside him, excitement starting to course through your veins over how this plan might actually work. “You’re a genius!”

It’s like an instinct the way you so easily jump into Jake’s arms. He spins you around, feeling his own sense of pride over his work, and when he puts you down you don’t miss the suspicious glance from Bethany. It completely slipped your mind the fact she essentially missed the whole day with you guys, having been totally oblivious to what was going on until just a little bit ago. She has no clue as to how quickly you and Jake have become close, but from the teasing smirk on her face you can tell she’s more amused than angry. She’d definitely be asking you details later. A part of you can’t wait until then.

Grabbing all of the bombs and any items you can use as weapons, the eight of you take your places. If this works you might only have a small window to do what you need before the soda bombs fizzle out but hopefully it’ll be enough. It has to be.

Before anyone even has a chance to second guess the plan, the bombs are being thrown. Soda goes everywhere and from what you can tell, they’re working!

The aliens get disorientated and before they can regroup you and everyone else rush out into the backyard, the boys going one way and you, Hannah, and Bethany going another. You and Bethany cut off the female alien as Hannah meets up with Sparks. Bethany latches the bin you used to catch the alien and when she’s done you head over to Hannah and her alien companion, wanting to make sure they’re both okay.

An enormous flash of light surrounds the yard and you turn around to see one of the aliens being zapped by their own machine. Everyone starts cheering as he gets flung into the air, but from the look on Sparks’ face you can tell this isn’t anything good.

He tries to get the attention of the others but they’re so wrapped up in their presumed victory that they don’t hear him. You and Hannah rush over, trying to get them to listen to Sparks’ anxious ramblings, but it’s only when the giant alien smashes his way through the trees do they understand.

Oh my God.

The alien starts talking to everyone, clearly convinced he’s won. You find yourself clinging to Jake’s side in fear and you don’t miss the fact he holds his arm out in front of you, acting as some sort of shield. The action makes your heart soar, even under the circumstances.

As the enlarged alien starts to walk away, everyone begins to freak out. Hannah starts questioning Bethany about what’s gonna happen to their parents, the twins look towards their big brother for answers, and Tom stalks forward towards the machinery, no doubt trying to think of something to do.

“Everyone, listen! We don’t have much time,” Tom says as he rejoins the group. “Sparks, can anything go on that machine?”

“Theoretically,” Sparks replies, and the satisfied look on Tom’s face tells you all you need to know. He has a plan and knowing him it’s a good one.

“Art, Lee, I’m gonna need a controller, Bethany and Y/N, I need you to keep the other aliens on lockdown.” You and Bethany look at each other, nodding, ready to take on anything together.

“Okay,” you both tell Tom and after that he’s moving to grab something from the grass.

“Jake, c’mon, this battle’s not over yet!” You’re not sure what Tom’s plan is, but you know it’s definitely not gonna be anything easy, or safe for that matter. As Jake starts to follow Tom towards the machine, you lightly grab onto his wrist, pulling him back.

He turns and looks at you a little confused, but you waste no time in letting him know why you stopped him. Reaching up, you quickly kiss Jake on the cheek, reveling in the warmth you feel there as your lips make contact. “Be safe out there,” you say, taking in his bright smile before rushing off back to Bethany, ready to take on some aliens.

*****

It’s no small feat taking down aliens, even if in fact they are…small.

You and Bethany tussle hard with the female alien and successfully knock her out after she escapes from the bin you trapped her in earlier. Of course there are a few words exchanged and some nails broken, but you and Bethany come out practically unscathed and feel pretty awesome in doing so.

The feeling is fleeting though as you realize the other male alien has become bigger as well. You hurry over to Hannah and Sparks, wanting to do what you can to make sure they’re protected. They seem fearful but thankfully it appears that Tom and Jake have successfully enacted their plan and have gained control of the alien in charge!

The two aliens battle it out, the twins controlling the commander. They seem to be doing a pretty good job, but it’s unclear how long they’ll be able to hold the other one back, especially at his size.

“Sparks!” Tom cries out while running towards you guys. “Reverse the machine!”

In a flash you, Sparks, and Hannah race over to the glowing otherworldly device. Sparks immediately gets to work on reversing the effects of the machine and his hands move so fast you can’t even keep track of what it is he’s doing exactly to complete it. You just sit with Hannah and hope for the best.

In no time Sparks finishes what he’s doing and gives you and Hannah the thumbs up. “Reversed!” Yes!

“Tom! He’s done!” You call out towards your best friend, and with a nod of understanding he uses the controller to push both of the aliens into the improved machine.

Taking several steps back with Hannah and Sparks, the three of you take cover as you watch the aliens’ machine collapse. The female alien narrowly saves her partner but leaves the commander behind. In a flash the whole thing explodes and it’s almost as if it was never there.

Feeling a rush of relief, the three of you get up off the grass and hurry over to the others. You reconnect with Bethany first and then meet up with the boys. You all breathe out words of praise and sighs of relief at seeing everyone’s okay and that the plan worked.

You go to move towards Jake, but Bethany’s worried voice cuts through, causing you to turn around.

“Tom? What about the others? There’s so many.” Looking up at the sky you feel your heart sink at the sight. Dozens of spaceships take up the night sky, no doubt hundreds of aliens aboard them and ready to invade. You’re too late, they’re already here.

“Retreat! Retreat! The machine is destroyed! We have been outsmarted by the hu-mans! The invasion has failed! Retreat to Zirkon right away! Retreat! Retreat!” Sparks’ voice rings out across the backyard and just as soon as they appeared, the spaceships are gone.

“It’s gone. It’s over, it’s all over. We won!” Tom says as he takes it all in. You all move forward, meeting up with Sparks. The smoke is still clearing but the evident relief and happiness on not only your guys’ faces but Sparks’ as well is refreshing. “Thanks, Snuggs, for everything.”

“You’re alright for a space maggot.” Jake tells Sparks and you nudge him softly in his side for it, rolling your eyes at him teasingly as he smiles down at you. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“Miss him? He’s staying here, with us!” Hannah exclaims as she goes to crouch down in front of her newfound friend. “Please don’t go, you can be part of our family.”

The sight warms you heart and you find it cute how Hannah’s taken such a liking to him. Honestly who wouldn’t? Sure he’s an alien, but he’s so kind and he protected people of another species he hardly even knew. You have a feeling there aren’t many other aliens who would do the same.

Sparks pulls something out of one of his pockets, and when he hands it to Hannah you can see exactly what it is. It’s a photo of Sparks and three other aliens, a female and a little boy and girl. It’s his family! Sparks is a father!

“Han,” you say lightly, kneeling down next to the younger girl. “I think he’s already got a family.”

*****

It’s a sad sight, all of you saying goodbye to Sparks on the roof. You nearly lose it as Hannah hands him her sock monkey and the two of them hug.

After a final goodbye, Sparks is off, back to his home planet. The air is still and the only thing you can hear are the crickets and cicadas in the trees surrounding you. Another moment passes before you all look at each other, grins breaking out on your faces leading everyone to erupt into cheers.

The twins are high-fiving each other, Bethany and Tom are hugging Hannah, and you turn towards Jake. When you do, you’re taken by surprise as he rushes towards you, nearly knocking you off your feet as he connects his lips to yours.

The action is sudden and slightly startles you as you weren’t expecting it. Feeling your stiffness and apparent shock, Jake breaks apart from you and takes several steps back.

“I-I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have done that! I just got excited I wasn’t-!” Cutting him off you take back the distance he made between you, grab onto his shirt, and pull him down towards you, connecting your lips once more.

This time he’s shocked, but Jake quickly recovers and takes your face between his hands, moving his lips perfectly in sync with yours. Even after being piled on with dirt and grime, somehow his pink lips are still soft to the touch and you don’t ever want to know what it’s like to not be able to kiss them.

Needing a second to catch your breath, you reluctantly break apart from the blonde, giggling as he quickly sneaks another peck in. You look up into his blue orbs and smile as you say, “It’s you and me, remember?”

“Ugh, get a room!” Looking over Jake’s shoulder you laugh as you see the “disgusted” look on Tom’s face. He smirks at the both of you before saying, “I should’ve known Jake wouldn’t give up on you.”

Looking over his shoulder, Jake laughs and retorts, “That’s on you, cuz! There was no way I was giving up that easily on this girl. Not even with your threatening best friend warning.”

“Tom!” You cry out, mock disbelief spreading across your face over this revelation. Of course he’d try and block his cousin from getting to you, he’s so protective.

“I think it’s cute!” Bethany coos and you smile at her in return.

“Yeah well just make sure you don’t continue to make out in front of everyone for the rest of the trip. I for one would like to get through the week without throwing up. Plus, there’s children present.” Tom glances towards Hannah and you laugh at her obvious look of irritation, clearly feeling insulted.

“Hey!” Hannah interjects, crossing her arms. The little girl starts to go in on her older brother over the clear level of maturity she has and the sight makes you smile. You’d never get tired of the Pearson family.

Chuckling and shaking his head, Jake turns his attention back to you. He leaves one hand cupping your face as the other grabs onto your waist, gently bringing you in closer to him.

“Anyways, you and me, huh?” He questions, referring back to your comment. He uses one hand to point up at the sky, referencing the aliens, and then points back at his difficult cousin. With a smile on his face he asks, “Against all odds?”

“Against all odds.”

[devildomwriter]

All Seem to Say, Throw Cares Away | Belphegor x Reader

.7K Words | GN! Reader | CW: MC has holiday stress

Belphegor had been more anxious this holiday season than ever before. Even more than the year everyone switched bodies, or the time you had to substitute Santa, it was worse than ever and it was because of you. He didn’t blame you of course because you couldn’t have known, all his stress was from seeing how anxious you were running around trying to get so many things done.

You were struggling to budget money so you could get the gifts you wanted to give everyone, you were struggling to bargain for days off work, you were sad you weren’t watching holiday movies because of how tired you were. You were stressed because you wanted to enjoy the holiday and you felt like it was happening too fast and you were getting nowhere.

Belphegor frowned as he watched you typing away on your laptop in the attic corner, trying to find some peace.

You didn’t mind him being there because he was just sleeping on the bed, but he did mind you being there because there was no way he could sleep peacefully when you were right there, stressed as all hell.

He grumbled and rolled out of bed, you didn’t so much as glance up from your screen as he trudged over to you and took a seat next to you.

You shut the laptop and turned to him, “Yes?”

He frowned and stole the laptop, “Belphie, I don’t have time to play right now,” you growled and he shook his head and held it out of your reach.

He left you no choice but to use your pact and force him to give it back. He glared, upset his plan to help you hadn’t worked but obviously, you didn’t know he was trying to help when all he’d done was steal your laptop.

“___,” he stated your name sternly. This was unusual for him so he caught your attention.

You raised a brow and prodded him to continue with what he wanted to say.

He sat on the edge of his bed as he watched you open the laptop again, “take a break,” he insisted and you shook your head.

“I have stuff to do.”

“Do it later.”

“I won’t have time later.”

“Yes, you will.”

You shook your head and stood up, prepared to find somewhere more peaceful.

Belphegor snuck up behind you and stopped you from leaving the attic. You stated quietly as he held you and without using his powers, Belphegor’s presence slowed your heart and calmed you down. You became drowsier than you already were that entire week and you allowed him to take the laptop again and set it on the top of the wardrobe.

“Belphegor, I really have things to do,” you insisted more softly.

“You have lots of Christmases left, you don’t need to do everything every year,” he pleaded and you heard pain in his voice which concerned you.

“Are you alright Belphie?” You asked, assuming he just needed your attention and he shook his head.

“No. Because you’re stressed.”

“I—“

“Don’t deny it. I haven’t gotten much sleep lately because all I can think about is how you’re forcing yourself to stay up so you can watch movies you don’t have energy watch and buy gifts that strain your pockets. You can’t enjoy Christmas because you’re forcing yourself to…” he revealed, frowning and you blinked in surprise.

“Belphie…”

He hugged you tightly. “Please, ___… just give yourself a break…I hate seeing you so stressed.”

You relaxed into his chest and relented. He had a point, maybe you’d regret taking a break later but for now, you knew you needed it, and apparently so did Belphegor.

Seeing you accepted his words, Belphegor led you back to the attic bed and tossed aside the covers. You took your sweater and slippers off and crawled onto the bed. Belphegor sat down next to you and grabbed the blankets to cover you both.

He hummed, excitedly and snuggled against you, you moved around to get comfortable and kept out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

Belphegor fell asleep quickly, pleased with himself that he’d gotten through to you.

Your breathing slowed and you grew more tired, so tired you began nodding off. Before you did you grinned and whispered to the comatose demon, “Thank you Belphie.”

Belphie grinned and his embrace tightened as you both fell into a peaceful sleep, the stress of the holidays melting away.

[letters-unsending]

No. 43

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Henchman x Scientist x Villain in small snippets

////

“I would lay down my life for you, my lord.”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t, [Henchman].” Villain glanced up from their papers. “You signed off on any life debts when you took this job. It’d be a poor investment.”

////

“While I appreciate your dedication and obvious drive toward the task at hand, there is no reason to continue with such…vigor.” Villain stood at the entrance to Scientist’s office. Their desk was rife with paper, coffee cups and tangled wires—a fire risk that’d he’d address at a later date—and Scientist worked overtop the mess, hands never stopping as they turned to acknowledge Villain.

“Yes, yes, it’s quite late isn’t it? I’ll be closing shop soon, I promise, but while you’re here, do you mind testing this out?” Scientist grabbed a device from a drawer and presented it to Villain.

Villain eyed the curve of metal, gleaming darkly in Scientists palm. “On the condition that you go home and get some rest.”

“You drive a hard bargain, boss.” Scientist laughed, skin crinkling at the edges of their tired eyes. “Now, come here.”

////

“Surely, this is unnecessary,” Villain argued as Scientist combed back his hair. They’d added gel and the brush tugged at his scalp.

“Supervillain is strict on presentation.” Henchman muttered, holding up a tie against Villain’s chest, assessing the color. He brought up another and squinted.

“The red one will do just fine, darling.” Scientist paused, leaning over Villain’s shoulder to assess the options. Villain blinked as Scientist kept their hand on his temple and reached with their other hand to feel the fabric of the tie, running their thumb over the textured pattern. “He always looks rather dashing in red, wouldn’t you agree?”

Henchman raised a brow at Scientist as Villain straightened in his seat.

“Yes, it’s a quite shame we don’t see that red suit of yours anymore, [Villain].”

“It���s an impractical color for subterfuge.” Villain breathed a sigh of relief as Scientist shifted back and resumed focus on his hair. “And the heroes have favored the color as of late. I would like to prevent any misconceptions.”

////

“You two are supposed to be on holiday.”

“We are.” Henchman raised two steaming tins and a wrapped plate. “Just came in to visit.”

They were both red in their cheeks and noses, and wrapped in thick coats. Scientist worked their scarf off their neck and slung it over Villain’s armor stand.

“I gave you time off,” Villain insisted as Henchman set the food on Villain’s counter, “time to visit your friends and family. You don’t have—you’re not obligated to spend your vacation here.”

Scientist sighed and worked their gloves off. Humming a tune, Henchman drifted past Scientist and patted Villain on the shoulder; his hand still carried the warmth of the trays. “Come on, let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

Once they’d both taken off their winter gear, they settled down at the cramped table in Villain’s kitchen and talked about Scientist’s most recent invention. Villain chewed on something spicy and gum-achingly sweet as Henchman tried to decode Scientist’s mathematical ramblings into words Villain could comprehend.

////

“[Villain], dear, would you pass me that book?” Scientist called.

Villain almost bumped into the shelf as he turned toward Henchman. “That must’ve been meant for you.”

“I don’t have a book.” Henchman smiled, waving his empty hands.

Villain stared as Henchman for a beat, then gazed at the book in his hand, then looked at Henchman once more before swiveling around and passing the book into Scientist’s waiting grasp. Scientist smiled at him in thanks and returned to frantically penning down their latest theorem.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Villain turned back to Henchman. “They must be really focused.”

“Certainly, dear.” Henchman assured.

[universitypenguin]

Hey Alice :) I know you did something already for Valentine’s Day where Lloyd spoiled princess but I was wondering what if the roles were reversed? Would princess 👑 do anything sweet for Lloyd? As always thank you so much for writing this amazing story 🥹

Thank you so much for this ask! 🥰

I had a lot of fun thinking about what Princess would do for Lloyd on Valentine’s Day if she were the one planning their celebration. I know for a lot of men it feels like a one sided bargain which is something a guy like Lloyd would find incredibly annoying. Of course he loves Princess, so his perspective on the holiday has shifted, but I feel like Princess would want to do something special for him, too.

When I was pondering the dynamics between the characters, I did a lot of thinking about that piece I wrote about Lloyd’s approach to Valentine’s Day. It’s clear that his plan for the day was mainly driven by his need for social validation. Yes, his overall goal was to please Princess, but his actions in the story centered around impressing her social circle and gaining attention. This is quintessential Lloyd Hansen behavior. He’s motivated by a very superficial type of recognition, because that’s all he’s ever known before.

Princess is very aware of this because she understands Lloyd and knows how to read him. That said, by the end of the day she was getting sick of the extravagance and the theatrical, exhibitionistic display it had become. She did appreciate his efforts, but what she really wanted was a personal connection that memorialized their relationship, not ones driven by external validation.

Side bar: The fact that Jenn was the one who realized the disconnect between Lloyd and Princess was so funny to me. Like, if you’ve read the backstory pieces you know Jenn and Lloyd absolutely despise each other. She really proved her devotion to Princess by going to Lloyd in private and re-orientating him in the right direction. It was kind of like watching the Grinch save Christmas. 😂

So, after all this reflection on what Lloyd’s take on Valentine’s Day represented to the characters, I came up with a plan for how Princess would choose to spend the holiday if planning it were up to her.

First, she wouldn’t try to steal Lloyd’s thunder by planning something for the actual date of Valentine’s Day on her own. Knowing how important it is to him to have center stage and step up to prove his worth as a boyfriend to her (and all of their friends and coworkers) she’d sit back and graciously indulge his extravagant public display of affection. Princess would wholeheartedly mask her desire for more intimate gestures in an effort to honor his intentions.

Which is why she would plan her own Valentine’s Day celebration… but in deference to Lloyd, she’d arrange it for the weekend after V-Day.

Her take on the holiday would prioritize their shared interests and revolve around activities they both enjoy, starting with a relaxing morning at the spa and a leisurely brunch. For the afternoon Princess would reserve a cozy spot at one of Lloyd's favorite restaurants for a late lunch, ensuring a quiet, private ambiance for uninterrupted conversation.

As for his gift, Princess would cater to Lloyd's interests, by arranging a golf trip to Myrtle Beach for him and his friends. The rest of their afternoon would be spent wandering through the D.C. botanical gardens, a favorite pastime of Princess’ that Lloyd has also come to appreciate. In the evening they’d go on a romantic sunset catamaran ride down the Potomac River to cap off the day.

The rest of their night unfolds at home. Having spent the day out on the town, Princess would opt for reheating leftovers at home over going out for a fancy dinner. After all, Lloyd’s homemade Coq au Vin from their Valentine’s Day meal is even better the second time around. Then they would cuddle up on the couch with their dinner as Lloyd picks out a movie for them to watch. When he suggests turning the weekend after Valentine’s Day into their own personal holiday, a warmth spreads through Princess’ chest.

For some, it would be devastating if their partners’ approach to celebrating a romantic holiday like Valentine's Day was very different from their own. However, at that moment Princess realizes that she’d never want to spend Valentine’s Day with anyone else. Despite the fact that they have incredibly different perspectives and values - something which could easily drive a wedge between even the strongest of couples - she and Lloyd somehow always come to a unique, peculiar state of equilibrium. They balance each other out, and in the end, that’s the best gift he could ever give her.

[adrift-in-thyme]

How are you doing? 🩵

Very tired 😅 School and life in general have been…a lot more than I bargained for lately. But I’m very excited for the holidays!! And I feel my writing inspiration coming back from the war so I’m super happy about that! I haven’t felt that much of a creative drought in a while and it kinda made me nervous haha

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Halloweeny Fic Titles Masterlist

Black Eyes - omgdatphantho

Summary: Dan just wanted a roommate. Phil’s looking for a vessel for his brother.

Cinderella, A Dinosaur, And A Lot Of Fake Blood - daniactuallysnuffledthatpopcorn

Summary: Dan and Phil go Trick or Treating with their kids.

Dan and Phil’s Spooktacular Halloween Adventure (ao3) - WritingCactus

Summary: In the late hours of Halloween night, Dan and Phil wander off the path and find themselves in a place that would be perfectly at home in any strange dream… or nightmare. Will they make it back to the world they know before the night is over, or will they be trapped there forever?

Haunted House - doomedhowell

Summary: Teenage foursome having a sleepover at a haunted house. they try to freak eachother out by telling ghost stories and jumping out from behind things. but later that night things start getting really creepy and they all end up getting so scared they run out of the house screaming.

Holiday Horror (ao3) - phanmily

Summary: After scheduling a special holiday at a haunted Victorian house, Dan and Phil are about experience something they would never expect. How bad could exploring a restricted room possibly be? What about reading from a weird, old book that’s written in another language? I’m sure everything will be fine.

Homoerotic Vampire Make-Out Session (ao3) - husbants

Summary: It’s October 2015 and Phil wants to indulge Dan in a little festive vampire roleplay. Dan seemed to like writing “The Urge,” after all.

I’m Not Scared - cocktailaunt

Summary: Dan and Phil watch a scary movie together.

late night pumpkins (ao3) - yoongioss

Summary: Phil doesn’t get editing until nearly half 1. He blames Dan and Halloween.

Never Trust a Ouija Board - phansomedevil

Summary: In which Dan and Phil have a ghost.

Picking Pumpkins (ao3) - scifi

Summary: Dan and Phil visit a pumpkin patch.

Promises From The Dark (ao3) - glitterhowell

Summary: Dan was so deeply in love with his boyfriend Phil he would do anything to be with him again. Even if that meant murder.

Scary Movie (ao3) - xDeathMelodiesx

Summary: Phil slips into little space while watching The Evil Dead and gets scared. Dan comforts him with a bath and snuggles.

Sugar, Sugar (ao3) - larry_hystereks

Summary: Dan’s too little to go trick or treating by himself, so Phil goes with him.

Sweetest Halloween - irphanfic

Summary: Halloween is Phil Lester’s favourite holiday but his best friend Dan is not so keen on going trick-or-treating this year because of his braces. Will Phil manage to do something so Dan can enjoy Halloween this year too?

The Cutest Pumpkin In The Patch (ao3) - glitterhowell

Summary: Every time he does a video with Phil, Phil always feels the need to make it extra challenging. The thing is how do you make carving pumpkins more challenging? Dan’s not so sure he wants to know the answer to that.

The Haunting (ao3) - RacheyRagdoll

Summary: Dan is reluctant to waste his time visiting a haunted house attraction, but he gets more of a scare than he was bargaining for.

The House of Horrors (ao3) - alimacbrux

Summary: Phil really didn’t want to go to the House of Horrors again, but when his friends decide to drag him along, the haunted house has far more surprises than Phil had bargained for-and not always in a bad way.

The Monster Bunch (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)

Summary: Omega Dan and Alpha Phil take their kids trick or treating.

The Pumpkin, the Princess, and the Fairy Godmother - awesomesockes

Summary: It’s Halloween and Dan and Phil’s five year-old-daughter, Emily, wants to go trick-or-treating. But that might be a problem as Dan is stuck in a wheelchair. But Phil and Emily come up with a brilliant idea.

They Did the Monster Mash (ao3) - tellsfromhale

Summary: Dan and Phil decorate for Halloween.

Trick or Treat, Sweets for My Sweet (ao3) - glitterhowell

Summary: Daddy Phil takes little Dan trick or treating and the night doesn’t turn out as expected.

vampires will never hurt you (ao3) - howellesterfics

Summary: Dan is embarrassed by his mistake of a Halloween costume, but not everybody has such negative feelings towards it.

[f0point5]

going through my saved reels on Insta, and it made me think that we didn't talk enough about the shift between Max and Charles.

at the beginning of the year there still was some tension between them. they didn't talk much, were more cold towards each other... maybe it was the fact that the championship was still in fight. but then summer break came, and it was like you turn a switch. suddenly, so much Lerstappen content EVERYWHERE, the atmosphere between them changed completely. their times at press conferences? during driver parades? shared padel match? shared interview? Max calling Charles "Charlie"? the overall shift of vibes between them? they actually look they like the presence of each other now! like, I really wanna know what happened between them, what changed that atmosphere so suddenly.

and don't let me even start about the RB x Ferrari sticker war. because that. took. the. cake.

-🦥

I love a chat…but I may not be the person to talk about this with because I just never got picked up by the lestappen hype train I’m not going to lie 🫣🫣🫣 (please don’t hate me 🥺)

If I’m being honest, I think what happened is marketing picked up “Lestappen” and ran with it. For whatever reason, in the second half of the year Charles has been doing a lot more work on branding himself away from Ferrari (I got theories but obviously we don’t know why). The intensity of his racing persona has dropped a bit, I think, which coincides with his less “rival” attitude with Max. Also, his increased visibility around another top team probably didn’t hurt his bargaining position for contract negotiations. Also, Max could always do with looking a bit less like the Darth Vader of F1…it’s been undeniably helpful to see him publicly having a good rapport with Charles.

(Plus, wasn’t Max wearing a pair of shoes from Charles’s brand in one of his holiday pictures? You can’t tell me Charles just randomly gave them to him?)

On vibes, I’ve always said, I think Max just copies other people’s vibes most of the time. Like in the cool down room he always waits to see if the other person will talk to him and how open they want to be before he follows suit. I think he was probably always open to being more friendly with Charles but it was Charles that was a bit more reserved with him so he just matched the energy. Now that Charles has more rapport with him he’s happy to build on it. Just my take.

Imo the sticker war was probably a fun thing that started between the engineers and when it blew up on social media there were so many comments wanting Max and Charles involved.

I might be cynical but I think the shift was well timed

Maybe I’m just crazy because SO many people see chemistry between Max and Charles and I just never have. Clearly they get along, but I think racing and a competitive mentality is the only thing they have in common, and I think they know it. To me they’re friendly, but definitely not friends.

I agree with you though I would die to know what the general shift was really about, if it was collusion etc 😂 I would die to know how Max got the shoes (if indeed those were Clace shoes). I would die to know what Charles’s PR strategy has been all about lately.

Basically I’m nosey as hell

[sitp-recs]

Heyy i love how you’ve made this amazing site for lost drarry lovers so thankyou so much for that!! I love the fics you’ve recommended and i doubt i’d be able to find them without your help I was wondering if you could recommend some slowburn fics where draco is hunting horcruxes with the Golden trio! And maybe all about the war through their eyes in general!! Thanks a lot

Ahh that’s such a nice message, you’re very welcome! 😊 I love war fics so it was really fun to put this reclist together. I haven’t read it but I know that Men Who Love Dragons Too Much by fencer_x also explores the theme and is a highly popular fic. Happy readings!

Mortal Frame by @tackytigerfic (M, 6k) - post-canon

Draco’s on a mission, and this time it's personal. But it's not easy to track down something that no one wants to talk about, especially when Harry Potter keeps popping up everywhere Draco goes. Though at least he’s on Draco’s side this time, and if he happens to be useful, and kind, and great in bed—well, Draco’s not exactly complaining.

The Eighth Tale by lettered (E, 12k)

Draco Malfoy tries to fix the past, but instead mucks it up some more. For Harry, it all becomes quite clear.

flashback, warm nights (orphaned, M, 13k)

“What’s killing me is that I actually quite fucking like Christmas, festival-for-a-personally-irrelevant-religion-turned-commercialised-garbage-holiday though it may be, and now I’m stuck in the perpetual almost-there of it all with an idiot who gets himself cut up every time no matter how differently I try and do things!” “Killing you?” Potter asks. “I thought I was the one who’s about to get my torso sliced into?”

Speak (and may the world come undone) by @shealwaysreads (E, 26k)

The war is on in earnest, and the hunt for the Horcruxes has begun. Harry receives help from the least expected person, and must decide whether he can trust the enemy he knows best. A story of grey-tinged loyalty, the silver of trust in the darkness, the agony of courage, the unexpected richness of secrets, and the vast unknown of survival.

9 ½ Days by @magpiefngrl (E, 69k)

After the events at the Manor, Harry and Draco find themselves stranded in the countryside with a broken wand and Death Eaters on their tail. This is the story of an uneasy truce, featuring faerie forests, seaside caves, Romani camps, kind old ladies, and a shared bed in an attic. Or how two boys fell in love in the midst of a bloody coup.

Walking the Line by SilentAuror (E, 179k)

Sixth year is over and Draco Malfoy is on the run. The war is on and an unwanted assignment is forced upon him by the only people he trusts - and a one-time arch-enemy just may be out to kill him.

Temptation on the Warfront by alizarincrims0n (E, 180k)

Draco Malfoy is forced into hiding with the Golden Trio and dragged into their search for horcruxes. What ensues is a journey of redemption, unexpected friendships and an unwanted, turbulent romance with Harry Potter. Warnings for swearing, sexual content, and dark themes.

The Secret Keeper by @the-fools-errand (M, 225k) - AU

On Halloween 1981, Albus Dumbledore made a decision that would change the course of history, concealing Harry Potter’s survival at the hands of Lord Voldemort underneath a Fidelius Charm. But when Harry comes of age in the Muggle world, Dumbledore realises too late that the fate of the world may depend on a boy who has never held a wand.

The Hush of War by @lol-zeitgeistic (E, 351k)

Voldemort has made a bargain with Harry to stop killing muggles and muggle-borns (when at all possible, of course) in exchange for Harry's cooperation. While Harry thinks he's using the time to find a way to defeat the Dark Lord, he will realize that Voldemort is always one step ahead, and so long as he isn't killing anyone...what's the big deal? He has bigger things to worry about now, anyway.

Double Edged Sword by @romaine2424 (E, 552k)

Harry thinks his life has been planned out, but the night he comes of age changes everything. Now there are decisions to be made and a path to be chosen, and the choices before him will change the lives of everyone he knows. But when destiny calls, Harry finds himself ready to listen.

All the Answers by Maxine (M, WIP)

Finding himself saddled with Draco Malfoy is just about the last thing Harry expected to happen this year. Too bad ignoring the git is something he’s never been able to do. Horcruxes, war, and teenage hormones – no one ever said this would be easy!