#(see also: the hostess in midnight) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moonriizing · 5 months ago

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is it new year’s yet? | l.hs (18+)

Coming home for Christmas is your least favorite part of the year. But this time, you're up for a pleasant surprise when you get introduced to your cousin's friend from uni, Lee Heeseung.

Genre: holiday fling, smut Pairing: Lee Heeseung x afab!Reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+) Notes: 9.7k words. Listening to is it new year's yet by Sabrina Carpenter. First post on this blog and first enha fic! Do let me know what you think about this. Thank you! Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally, nor do I claim they would ever behave in real life like they were portrayed in this story. ALSO, if you see a similar story from a different blog for a different idol (nct mark), that is me. xoxo, cal.

Holidays are for family reunions and coming home to bond with your loved ones. Bullshit. You’d rather be anywhere but here.

Here being your family home, bright and cheerful with Christmas decors and merry chatter from relatives and family friends. The sweet smell of cinnamon and gingerbread permeated the halls and the Christmas songs playing from the speakers your mother had strategically placed around the house were grating on your nerves, making you dizzier than the champagne you were drinking.

Home. Familiar, warm, and somehow... suffocating.

You didn’t hate your family—far from it. You loved them with every fiber of your being. But that didn’t make the family tradition of hosting a horde of relatives and family friends for Christmas any less unbearable.

You should be used to it by now, considering how your mother had always made it her mission to be the ultimate hostess. What might have seemed magical when you were a kid now felt so unnecessary. As you grew older, it became harder to tolerate the endless stream of insufferable relatives and their even more insufferable commentary.

“Did you lose weight?” a distant aunt asked, her eyes raking over you like you were a mannequin in a store window. “You need to eat more. You’re so skinny.”

Just call me fat, why don’t you? you thought to yourself, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “I know. I did it on purpose,” you replied curtly before tossing back the last of your champagne. You didn’t wait for her reaction. You simply walked away, the bubbles fizzing in your throat as you searched for somewhere to hide.

You wove your way through the crowd, dodging overly familiar pats on the shoulder and sidelong glances that screamed When are you graduating? or Where’s your boyfriend?

The living room was packed with people swapping stories you’d heard a hundred times before. The scent of pine from the overdecorated tree blended with the warm spice of wine and sugary sweetness from the dessert table. The whole atmosphere was so perfect and festive that it made it a little hard to breathe.

You needed air. Or another drink. Although, both are fine too.

In the kitchen, you poured yourself another glass of champagne and leaned against the counter, fishing out your phone to scroll mindlessly. A part of you considered texting Yeonjun—the guy you couldn’t stop thinking about. He was probably back in the city, having the time of his life at some glittering party—champagne in hand, gorgeous people all around, someone to kiss at midnight.

“Fuck this,” you muttered under your breath, stuffing your phone back in your pocket as you walked out of the kitchen.

Rounding the corner too fast, you slammed into someone—a steady grip caught your arm before the champagne could spill.

“Easy there,” he said, his voice low and warm. You glanced up and found a stranger: messy hair, sharp jawline, and an easy smile that contrasted with the chaos around you. He looked your age, maybe a bit older.

“Thanks,” you muttered, eyeing him curiously. You could not remember seeing him anywhere before, so naturally, your immediate assumption was that he was a guest’s plus one. He could be a cousin’s boyfriend or something and you were just about to ask him that when your cousin Jake appeared beside him.

“Oooh, look who showed up!” Jake said, tilting his head with that playful glint you always found irritating.

You rolled your eyes. “I always show up.”

“Of course you do.” Jake leaned against the wall, arms crossed and grinning. “You hate it here, don’t you?”

You tilted your head at him, pretending to think. “What gave it away? My overflowing enthusiasm?”

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” Jake teased. “A little family bonding with your favorite aunts would be nice. Aren’t you supposed to pack them a gift each?”

You drained the last of your champagne, letting the fizz linger as you looked at your cousin. “I’d rather die.”

Jake laughed, nudging Heeseung with his elbow. “This is my cousin. She’s the resident Grinch. But don’t worry; she’s fun when she wants to be.”

“I can hear you,” you gloated.

“I know,” he said, his grin widening. “So? Are you going to spend the whole night sipping champagne like a miserable bore?”

You gave him a flat look. “Oh my god. You can read minds?” you deadpanned.

“Well, perfect! You’re already dressed for the occasion,” he quipped, gesturing vaguely at your casual attire. He laughed but stopped when you didn’t even crack a smile. “Tell you what, Heeseung and I are heading out. You’re welcome to join us if you want to.”

“No.”

“Come on. It’s gonna be fun.” Before you could refuse again, Jake slung an arm around your shoulder and turned to Heeseung. “She’ll come. She just likes to play hard to get.”

“I really won’t,” you retorted, trying to shrug him off. “I don’t feel like tailing you two all night.”

“What else are you gonna do—sit in a corner and glare at people?”

You rolled your eyes, but the answer was obvious. Staying inside meant more questions, more relatives, more everything you were trying to avoid.

“Fine,” you muttered. “But if you drag me into something ridiculous—”

“You’ll have fun. Promise,” Jake interrupted and then turned to Heeseung. “She’s coming.”

Heeseung’s smile was easy, almost reassuring. “No pressure. It’ll be chill.”

You smirked. “You clearly don’t know Jake.”

With that, Jake led the way, practically bouncing out the door. You followed, stuffing your hands into your coat pockets as Heeseung fell into step beside you.

The winter air hit you like a slap, crisp and biting, slicing through the lingering scents of cinnamon and pine. It was a relief, though, clearing your head from the stifling warmth of the house. You walked down the quiet streets with Jake, Heeseung, and a few friends you used to hang out with growing up. They led the way, cracking jokes and tossing playful banter back and forth, while you stuck closer to the back with Heeseung.

“I can’t believe they’re still dating,” you muttered, eyeing a pair in front of you.

“Who? Them?” Heeseung asked, making you glance briefly at them.

You nodded. “They started dating when we were sophomores in high school. And they’re still together.”

Heeseung hummed. “They must really like each other then.”

You grimaced, eyeing the lovey-dovey couple in front. “I don’t know. They used to break up and make up. It was exhausting. Everyone thought they’d break up for good after graduation. But, well… here we are.”

“Guess they like running in circles,” Heeseung said lightly, shoving his hands in his pockets. He glanced sideways at you. “What about you? Do you think people like that can actually work out?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, unsure if the question was casual or probing. “I think it depends on how much drama you can stomach. Personally, I’d rather avoid it altogether.”

Heeseung tilted his head thoughtfully. “No drama, huh? That’s a pretty high bar for relationships.”

You smirked, knowing how ironic it was for you to say this despite having a relationship drama. “Tell me about it,” you mumbled.

It was easy to figure out Heeseung’s intentions. The whole time, he didn’t try to hide it, nor did he try to send mixed signals. It was pretty clear with how close he was standing beside you, how his shoulder almost brushed yours. The way Heeseung’s eyes lingered on you when you spoke, the way he tilted his head when you laughed, like he was committing the sound to memory. How, even when you weren’t talking, he stayed within arm’s reach, his gaze flickering to you every now and then. How his focus remained on you.

And then there was the way he leaned in just slightly when he made a comment, his voice low, his words meant only for you.

He was attentive in a way that surprised you, even in the most casual moments. As you explained how you and your friends used to kill time in this sleepy town—late-night drives to the lookout point, sneaking snacks into the single-screen movie theater, racing bikes down the old dirt trail—Heeseung listened with genuine curiosity, his eyes lighting up with every story.

“So, let me get this straight,” he said when you were alone at the swings. You sat comfortably on the swing while he pushed you gently. “Not only did you race down a hill that sounds like a death trap, but you’re telling me you were the reigning champion?”

You tilted your head, feigning offense. “Why do you sound so skeptical?”

“Oh, I believe you,” he said, his smirk widening. “I’m just wondering how many people you bribed to throw the race.”

You gasped playfully. “Excuse me, I won fair and square.”

“Sure you did.” His laughter was low, warm, the kind that made you feel comfortable with him.

You smirked. “Why else would I bring it up? Go ask them.”

He chuckled, nodding his head. “You seem really confident… I believe you.”

You were quiet for a while, with only the creaking sound of swing filling the silence. The tip of your shoes dragged lightly with every swing, carving the damp ground underneath.

Heeseung asked after the silence stretched out. “So, is that all you did for fun around here?”

“Pretty much,” you said with a shrug. “Lame, huh?”

“Not at all. It’s simple but it has its charm,” he said softly, pausing as he held the swing tight to stop it. “It says a lot about you though.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at him with a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “Are you calling me charming?”

“Maybe,” he said, his voice light but his gaze unwavering. “What would you do if I was?”

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Depends. Is this small-town charm talking, or do you actually mean it?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Trust me, I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

“Well, aren’t you a smooth talker?” you teased, though your voice had softened, your usual sharpness dulled by the way Heeseung was looking at you.

He grinned, leaning just a little closer, his voice dropping lower. “Only with the right company.”

You held his gaze. “Right company, huh?” you murmured, your heart thudding as you tilted your head, meeting his eyes.

He smiled faintly, his voice dipping lower. “You know I mean it.”

His gaze lingered on you, his head tilting ever so slightly as he leaned closer. You barely noticed the chill in the air anymore, not when the space between you seemed to shrink. His hand brushed the chain of the swing, his fingers close enough to graze yours. His breath mixed with yours, the faint scent of his cologne and the crisp night air filling the gap. Slowly, as if testing the waters, he leaned in, his focus entirely on you.

Your fingers twitched on the swing’s chain, almost brushing his. His lips hovered near yours now, and for a moment, everything else faded away—

“Yo, there you are!” Jake’s voice broke through the stillness, loud and completely unbothered.

You flinched, the spell breaking as you turned toward the sound of footsteps crunching against the gravel. Jake and the others were strolling toward you, their laughter cutting through the quiet.

Heeseung straightened quickly, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips as he ran a hand through his hair. “Ah, that’s too bad,” he murmured, his voice low enough just for you. “I thought we’d finally lost them.”

A quiet laugh escaped you, even as warmth lingered on your cheeks. “I didn’t know we were doing that.”

He shrugged, a glint of mischief in his eyes, so you swatted his chest lightly, the playfulness easing the tension.

Jake raised an eyebrow as he approached, his gaze flicking between you and Heeseung. “What, were you two having a moment or something?”

“Not even close,” you shot back, sharper than you intended. “What do you want?”

“Lori was asking if your mom baked a fruitcake this year,” he said, pointing toward your friend Lori.

You glanced at her, catching her expectant grin. “You know what,” you said, rising to your feet, “she did. You should grab some before it’s gone.”

Lori and the others cheered. Though your mom’s fruitcake wasn’t your favorite—too sweet for your taste—you still felt a swell of pride knowing it was the highlight of every Christmas. It was this pride that made you wanna bring them over, so with Jake leading your group, you headed back to your house, noisy and in high spirits.

Like opposite sides of magnets, you and Heeseung found each other again and fell behind the rest of the group. He leaned into your ear as he asked, “Are we gonna pick up where we left off?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Depends on how charming you are for the rest of the night.”

He held your gaze, his smile softening. “Challenge accepted.”

You felt your cheeks heat up under his gaze, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you let the confidence he’d drawn out of you take hold. “You’ve been following me all night. You like me, don’t you?”

Heeseung didn’t even bother denying it. His smile widened, his voice steady as he replied, “Can you blame me?”

You chuckled. “Don’t fall for me, though. I’d hate to break your heart once the holidays are over,” you told him, grinning playfully before walking faster to rejoin your friends.

Heeseung stayed back for a moment, watching you. Too late, he thought. You really should’ve warned him sooner.

“If this was a uni party, someone would’ve spiked the eggnog already,” you mumbled, your eyes scanning the room filled with family, friends, and all the usual holiday chaos.

Heeseung’s voice was low beside you, cutting through the noise. “Really?”

You nodded, not looking at him. “Oh yeah. If you want to survive the night here, you have to make your own fun.” You shot him a side glance, half-smiling. “Otherwise, it’s just... this.”

For a brief moment, Heeseung said nothing, but you could feel him shifting beside you. Then, in a voice laced with amusement and mischief, he said, “I’ll be right back.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Alarmed, you grabbed his arm and yanked him back before he could get too far. “No, Heeseung!”

He turned toward you, his grin dangerous. “What?”

“No, seriously,” you whispered urgently, trying to keep your voice down. You scanned the room quickly, then pointed across it with dramatic flair. “Old people.”

Heeseung’s brow furrowed, clearly confused, so you leaned in just a little closer. “That’s my great-uncle,” you said, nodding toward an elderly man in a faded cardigan who was snoozing away in the rocking chair. “He’s 84 and can’t have alcohol. But he’s obsessed with eggnog. Let’s not ruin this for him.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, fighting back a laugh. “That’s not so Grinch of you.”

“I make exceptions for people I like,” you said, your voice dropping to a playful whisper.

His smile deepened, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Is that so?” he asked, teasing but warm. “What exceptions have you made for me so far?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop your smile from widening. “I’m not answering that.”

“So there is something, then?” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek, as if the answer were hidden in your response.

“I’m not answering that either.” You chuckled, taking a step back with an exaggerated sigh. You started heading toward the patio, but Heeseung’s long strides quickly caught up, his footsteps just behind you.

The cold night air hit your skin as you stepped onto the patio, but the firepit’s warmth immediately enveloped you. Your friends and cousins gathered around, roasting marshmallows and swapping stories. You sat on the same bench as Heeseung, his presence adding warmth and comfort. You joined the conversations with the others, while occasionally having your own little talks with Heeseung.

The more you talked, the closer he leaned toward you, his eyes never quite leaving your face as if he were soaking in everything you said. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the heat of both the fire and his proximity.

As the night wore on, the laughter around the firepit thinned out, your companions dispersing one by one to retire for the night. Soon, it was just you, Heeseung, and Jake—both guys occupied with something on Jake’s phone. Left to your own devices, you scrolled aimlessly through social media, eventually landing on a friend’s Instagram story.

Yeonjun appeared in the group photo, looking happy and festive at what seemed like a rowdy party. You checked your inbox, hoping for a message, but he hadn’t even read the last one you’d sent. A sigh slipped from your lips louder than you intended, and Heeseung glanced up at you.

“You okay?” he asked quietly as you quickly turned your screen off. His cheeks were flushed, likely from the cold and the alcohol, and his eyes looked a little sleepy from the late hour. The sight of him brought a comforting warmth to your chest.

“I’m fine,” you mouthed, holding his hand that rested on your arm.

Suddenly, Jake shot up from his seat with a sharp exhale. “Let’s get out of here. I’m about to lose it with this Mariah Carey song they’ve got on repeat.”

“You go ahead. I’m gonna stick around for a bit,” Heeseung replied, squeezing your arm before rubbing his thumb against your jacket.

Jake noticed your joined hands and narrowed his eyes at the two of you. “You guys are getting cozy.”

“Are we?” you teased, glancing at Heeseung and shrugging. You leaned against his chest playfully and added, “I hardly noticed.”

Heeseung played along, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer. Jake shook his head, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “If you’re gonna have sex, don’t do it in our room.”

The comment made you roll your eyes. “This is my house, Jake. We can do it in my bedroom!”

Jake didn’t respond, only raised a middle finger at you two before walking away. You laughed, watching him disappear into the house. But beside you, Heeseung had stopped grinning, his expression shifting to something more serious, his eyes wide with shock.

You raised an eyebrow. “What? I was just joking.”

Heeseung blinked a few times, looking away as he cleared his throat. “Yeah, I know.” His voice was a little more strained, and you noticed a blush creeping up his neck.

You couldn’t resist teasing him further. “Did you think I was serious?” you asked, leaning in just a little closer.

Heeseung turned his head slightly, his eyes flickering toward you for a brief moment before he fixed his gaze on the fire. “Not at all,” he replied quickly.

“Oh? So you’re not interested?” you pressed, enjoying the sight of him flustered.

“I didn’t say that,” he responded too eagerly, too quickly.

The sudden shift in his tone caught you off guard. You hesitated for a moment, watching him carefully before you let out a soft laugh. “Okay,” you said, wanting to ease the tension. “I was just messing with you. Relax.”

Heeseung didn’t answer immediately, but you saw his posture stiffen, his hand slipping from your shoulder as he cleared his throat again. The air between you two felt thicker now, charged with something neither of you wanted to bring up.

You let the silence hang there for a few moments before turning to look at the house, your smile a little softer. “Anyway,” you muttered, standing up, “let’s get back inside.”

Heeseung didn’t say anything as he followed you, the air between you was thick with tension, but neither of you said much as you both walked toward the staircase leading up to the upper floors. It was past midnight. You had intended to hang out with him a bit more, but the night suddenly started to catch up with you after that awkward exchange with Heeseung.

It shouldn’t be a surprise. He clearly wanted you, at least based on how he’d been flirting with you all night and how you almost kissed at the playground earlier. And to be honest, you were entertaining the idea of a holiday fling with Heeseung. He was very attractive and he’d done nothing to raise any red flags so far. So why did the sudden sexual tension seem to make things awkward between you?

As you reached the hallway, you turned to him with a small smile. “Well, guess it’s time for me to call it a night,” you said, your voice a little quieter than usual.

Heeseung nodded, but there was something in his expression that suggested he wasn’t ready to say goodnight just yet. “Yeah… sure,” he replied, his eyes focused on you.

You both stopped in front of your door and there was a silence that stretched longer than either of you anticipated. When you reached for the doorknob, Heeseung didn’t say anything, though you could see the dejected look in his eyes that he failed to mask with the smile he was wearing.

“See you in the morning?” you suggested, offering him something to look forward to despite the seemingly disappointing end to the night. “That is, if you’re still here by then,” you added, a low key attempt at asking what his plans were for tomorrow.

Heeseung smiled warmly. “I might have volunteered to be tomorrow’s Santa Claus, so I think I’d still be here.”

You chuckled, the tension easing just a little. “Are you serious?”

“No,” he chimed with a playful grin, reaching for your hand and brushing his fingers lightly across your skin.

The touch was so small, yet it felt electric. Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. His eyes locked with yours, holding a silent intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. You found yourself leaning in, just a little bit closer, your breath shallow.

“Heeseung, I—” you began, only to cut yourself off because you didn’t really know what you were gonna say. Or if you should even say anything at all.

But then you both understood without words. Your nerves seemed to settle, and without another sound, Heeseung leaned in, his lips pressing gently against yours.

It was soft, almost questioning at first, but the moment it happened, everything else seemed to fade into the background. The lingering discomfort from the teasing, the unsaid words—everything disappeared. For that one exhilarating moment, there was nothing but the warmth of him against you.

When the kiss broke, you both stood there, breathless, eyes wide. You let out a nervous laugh, still trying to gather your thoughts. “That didn’t just happen,” you chuckled.

Heeseung’s gaze softened, his lips curling up into a small, almost sheepish smile. “Was that too fast?” he questioned playfully.

You exhaled a laugh, shaking your head. “Not really, but… let’s just pretend it didn’t happen,” you said, trying to play it cool, but your heart was still racing.

He nodded quickly. “Yeah. Good idea.”

You stood there for a whole minute, staring at each other in the quiet, with only the faint sound of Christmas carol from the living room filling the silence. “Good idea,” you echoed quietly, but your eyes were fixed on his lips, plump and inviting.

Before you knew it, you were kissing again, this time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate, the kind that made your knees a little weak. His hands settled gently on your waist, making you hyper aware of the way your bodies are pressed against each other. For a moment, you let yourself forget about everything else—the holiday chaos, your family, Yeonjun.

When he pulled back slightly, his gaze was intense, searching yours. “You good?” he rasped, his breath warm against your face.

“Totally,” you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him back in for another kiss.

You kicked your bedroom door open, tugging him inside without breaking the kiss. In no time, you found your back pressed against the wall right by the door, Heeseung’s lips ravaging yours with a kiss that made you go feral.

When his hand slipped under your shirt, you held it tightly, debating whether to let him go there—caught between wanting to retreat and wanting to give in. As your hesitation stretched, Heeseung took it as his cue to pull away—not completely, just enough to press his forehead against yours and cup your cheeks

“Is that a ‘no’?” he whispered, his voice laced with playful warmth.

You chuckled, still a little drunk on his lips—on him. “Are you hurt?” you asked playfully, though your concern was sincere. “Your ego, I mean.”

“Hmm, not really,” he replied, shivering under your touch when your hand ran from his arm to his neck. “I’m more hurt somewhere else.”

That made you laugh and hit his chest playfully. Heeseung caught your hand, keeping it on his chest as he closed his eyes—forehead still pressed against, his breathing steady but deep, his lips lifted slightly in a faint smile.

You planted a soft kiss on his lips and took a small step back. “Aren’t you leaving?”

Heeseung clutched his chest, feigning a pained look. “Ouch. I’m getting kicked out too? This is torture.”

The sound of Christmas carols from the living room filtered through the door, a reminder of the world just outside, but neither of you seemed in a rush to leave. Heeseung looked around your dimly lit bedroom, studying the space as if familiarizing himself.

“I don’t want to push my luck,” he said, his voice low as he glanced back at you. “But this is much cozier than the guest room I’m sharing with Jake.”

You smirked, catching the insinuation in his statement. “It’s a no, Heeseung.”

Heeseung winced visibly. “Is that final?” he asked, making you chuckle.

“We only just met.”

He shrugged, nodding thoughtfully. “That’s fair. It was worth a shot, though.”

You had to admit, you considered it. Just the idea of being in Heeseung’s arms stirred something inside you. A feeling that, if you were being honest, you weren’t expecting to feel at all when you boarded the train home for the holidays. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe the loneliness of the night creeping in, but right now, you felt more alive than you had in weeks.

Heeseung tilted your chin, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips once more. “Good night?”

“Good night,” you chimed, holding his hand against your cheek.

But he made no move to leave, he just stood there, staring at you as if it would physically pain him to look away. Then he leaned in for another kiss, and you were more than happy to oblige.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” he teased, forehead pressing against yours.

“You’re one to talk,” you retorted, rolling your eyes playfully, though your smile was soft, just a little more sincere now.

The next morning, breakfast unfolded in a much quieter manner than last night’s festivities with everyone still half-asleep and quietly eating. Across the table, Heeseung seemed perfectly at ease, though you couldn’t ignore the occasional glance he sent your way—or how your gaze sometimes lingered on him longer than it should.

Your mom’s attention was on him, which was understandable since he was the only new face around the dining table. Your mom said she didn’t get the chance to properly get to know him because yesterday was hectic. Heeseung didn’t seem to mind, he was polite and spoke with courteousness and a charming demeanor.

“So, Heeseung,” your mom began to add as she reached for another piece of toast, her tone light but curious. “How do you know Jake?”

You smirked, glancing at your cousin. “Yeah. You seem too cool to be hanging out with this dork.”

Heeseung glanced at Jake, who was already sighing as if he knew what story Heeseung was going to tell. “We met during our first year,” Heeseung said, chuckling. “It was a… uh. Freshman prank.”

“Freshman prank?” your dad asked.

Heeseung hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s a long story, but basically we fell victim to a freshman prank and ended up getting scolded by the college dean.”

“Oh my god! Jake said he was scolded by the dean for dancing around the school grounds in a bear costume. Was that it?” one of your cousins asked.

“Yeah,” Heeseung replied, his laugh a little sheepish. “It was actually the school mascot suit. They asked us to wear them at a freshman event for extra credit. Then we found out in the end that it was a faculty briefing, not a freshman event.”

Jake exhaled, exasperated by the memory. “ We even danced without knowing our mascot heads were switched. I was a lion with a bear head.”

Your mom laughed again, shaking her head. “Well, that’s one way to make a friend.”

“And now you’re stuck with him,” you teased, looking at Heeseung.

“Pretty much,” Heeseung agreed, his gaze flicking to you with a warm smile. “But hey, life’s never boring with Jake around.”

You smirked. “You’re too kind. Just say he’s an idiot. He doesn’t mind.”

Jake waved his fork in the air, scoffing at you. “Joke’s on you. Heeseung would never say that about me.”

Heeseung shrugged. “Well, he’s kind of�� an idiot.”

Jake gasped. “What have you done to my friend?” he accused dramatically, pointing a finger at you.

The conversation soon shifted from playful banter to lighter topics as the meal wound down. You mostly stayed quiet, stealing occasional glances at Heeseung, who somehow managed to charm your family without even trying. When breakfast ended, your mom handed you a towel. “You’re on dish duty today,” she said with a kind smile.

Heeseung stood without hesitation. “I’ll help.”

“Very gallant of you,” your mom quipped, her tone amused as she watched you carry the dishes away.

When your family was out of earshot, Heeseung leaned in close, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Figured I’d earn some points.”

You chuckled, shaking your head but not protesting as he followed you into the kitchen. He rolled up his sleeves with ease, taking the stack of plates from your hands and grinning like this was second nature to him. The two of you fell into a quiet rhythm at the sink, you rinsing while he dried.

“So,” he began after a moment, breaking the silence with his usual casual tone. “Your mom’s cool. Super curious, though.”

You snorted. “That’s her way of being welcoming. Consider yourself officially part of the family.”

“Is that so?” he asked, his tone teasing. “Guess that means I have to stick around,” he added, bumping his elbow against your arm.

You rolled your eyes, recognizing the playful hint. “Only as Jake’s friend, though.”

“What do you know? She might upgrade me to Son-in-Law once she sees my dish-drying technique,” he quipped, his shoulder brushing yours as he reached for a dish and started wiping with exaggerated flourishes.

“Son-in-Law is a pretty big leap from Nephew’s College Friend.”

He grinned with mock confidence. “I’m Lee Heeseung. Anything’s possible.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Alright, Golden Boy.”

“You’ve got a pretty lively family,” Heeseung said after a pause, his tone softening. “They remind me of mine.”

“Oh, yeah?” You glanced at him, curious. “Big Christmas crowd?”

“Not as big as yours, but yeah. We do the whole chaos thing. My mom insists on playing charades after dinner, even though none of us can act to save our lives.”

You chuckled at the image, your hand brushing his as you passed him a plate. The touch lingered for half a second too long, enough to make your heart skip a beat. When you looked at him, Heeseung was already watching you, his voice dropping to something quieter as he leaned closer to whisper in your ear.

“By the way, you look lovely this morning.”

The compliment hit harder than it should’ve, leaving you momentarily flustered. You managed to play it off with a teasing smile. “Trying to earn more points?”

“Maybe,” he replied with a grin, leaning just a fraction closer.

You rolled your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. “Just dry the dishes.”

Heeseung grinned, leaning slightly closer. “Maybe.”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. “Just dry the dishes.”

His soft laughter warmed the kitchen, the hum of last night’s lingering tension sparking again between you. By the time you handed him the final dish, there were no more “accidental” brushes—Heeseung took your hand outright, pulling you gently forward to steal a quick, mischievous kiss.

You gasped, heat rushing to your face as you slapped his arm. “You sneaky little—”

Before you could finish, he leaned in again, catching you in another kiss, quick and light, as if testing the waters. Then he turned back to the towel like nothing had happened, leaving you standing there, your thoughts a flustered jumble.

Exhaling a mock exasperated sigh, you gave up on playing it cool. Closing the small gap between you, you slipped your arms around his waist, letting your cheek rest briefly against his shoulder as he put the last plate away.

“This is nice,” he murmured, discarding the towel and turning to face you. His arms wrapped around you naturally, pulling you close. “Makes us look like boyfriend and girlfriend, doesn’t it?”

You scoffed, stepping back slightly. “Don’t push your luck.”

But when you turned to leave, Heeseung caught your wrist, pulling you back into a tight embrace. “Where are you going? Stay.”

You hesitated for half a second, then melted into his hold, your hands settling lightly on his waist. “What are we even doing?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, resting his chin lightly against your hair. “But it’s nice.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It kinda is.”

The moment was broken by the faint sound of singing from the direction of the main door. Heeseung’s brows rose as he glanced toward the sound. “Carolers?”

“Yeah,” you replied, pulling away and jogging toward the door. Outside, a small group of children and teenagers stood assembled like a festive choir, their voices harmonizing in cheerful Christmas melodies. Your family was already out there, listening with smiles on their faces.

Jake noticed you standing beside him and leaned in. “Tell me why I can’t punch the carolers.”

You snorted. “Because it’s not their fault you didn’t pass the auditions.”

“Right,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes.

“Wait, what? You auditioned for this?” Heeseung asked, his expression bewildered.

Jake smirked, unbothered by the attention. “I’m a man of many talents, my friend. They fumbled real bad when they decided to reject me.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, exasperated. “You’re insufferable.”

“You love me for it.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. Christmas morning chaos, as always.

The rest of the day unfolded in a series of warm, chaotic moments. After the carolers left, your family gathered in the living room, eager to keep the festive spirit alive.

Someone—probably Jake—suggested a game of charades. It started out as a reluctant group activity but quickly spiraled into uncontrollable laughter as your aunt wildly flailed her arms trying to mimic Jaws, and your dad confused everyone by acting out Titanic with interpretive dance.

Heeseung fit right in, his easygoing personality making him an absolute hit. He was surprisingly good at charades, though you suspected he was just adept at playing to the crowd. When it was your turn to act, he leaned over to Jake and whispered something that had both of them laughing under their breath—probably a jab at your complete lack of acting skills. You shot them a mock glare, but it only made Heeseung grin wider.

When the game wound down, your mom announced it was time for gifts. You handed your parents the small, thoughtful presents you’d prepared—a new mug for your dad’s coffee addiction, and a scarf you’d crocheted for your mom.

“You shouldn’t have,” your mom said with a soft smile, wrapping the scarf around her neck immediately.

Others exchanged gifts, too, and to your surprise, a few came your way: a box of chocolates from your aunt, fuzzy socks from Jake, and a cute notebook from a younger cousin. You hadn’t expected anything from anyone other than your parents, so it warmed you more than you cared to admit.

Heeseung, meanwhile, didn’t seem fazed by the lack of a gift exchange between the two of you. Instead, as the wrapping paper chaos settled, he nudged your arm.

“Guess we forgot to plan this part, huh?” he quipped.

“Yeah, well,” you replied, shrugging, “we didn’t exactly have time for shopping.”

Heeseung leaned back against the couch, thoughtful. Then his face lit up with an idea. “How about we exchange something else?”

“Like what?” you asked, curious.

He reached for his phone, pulling up a playlist. “Music,” he said simply. “I’ll share a song I love, and you do the same. It’s like a tiny window into who we are.”

You hesitated for a moment but nodded. “Okay. You first.”

He scrolled through his playlist before handing you one of his airpods. The track was a mellow, soulful tune with heartfelt lyrics, and as it played, you found yourself surprised at how much it suited him—genuine, unpretentious, and warm.

“I like it,” you admitted, handing the phone back.

“Your turn,” he said, leaning closer as if to make sure he wouldn’t miss a beat.

You picked something a little more upbeat but with a nostalgic edge. The second it started, Heeseung grinned, nodding along to the rhythm. “Good choice. I can see why you like it.”

For the rest of the evening, the two of you exchanged little pieces of yourselves—stories, favorite movies, quirks. It wasn’t the traditional gift exchange, but it felt like something better, something that fit the budding connection between you.

Later, as the family gathered for a Christmas movie, Heeseung ended up beside you on the couch. The warmth of him sitting close felt comforting, and somewhere in the middle of Love Actually, his hand found yours under the blanket draped over your lap.

As the movie played on, you felt your phone buzzing on your lap. You picked it up in a heartbeat, a force of habit that made you feel a little pathetic. Letting out a sigh, you tucked your phone away, refusing to check what the notification was about—or who it was from.

Heeseung leaned closer, his voice low but curious. “Who is he?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“The guy,” he clarified. “The one who keeps making you wait for him.”

You chuckled nervously. “There is no guy.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. You sighed. “Fine. There is—was, actually. I think I’m done waiting for him.”

“Why is that?”

You tilted your head slightly, taking a very good look at the beautiful man before you. A smile crept across your lips. Why, he asked? It was because you met him—Lee Heeseung, who wanted you and made it clear. Heeseung, who gave you signals and acted on them. Heeseung, who not only spoke honestly about how much he liked you but also went out of his way to show it. Heeseung, who gave you more in two days than Yeonjun had in three months.

“You staring at me like that is making me wanna kiss you right now,” Heeseung said softly, cutting through your reverie.

You grinned. “Do it then.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His lips brushed yours, warm and soft, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

Across from you, Jake grimaced, letting out an exaggerated groan. “Guys. Just get a room already.”

You pulled back, your cheeks warm with embarrassment. Heeseung didn’t seem fazed smirking as he laced his fingers with yours.

“Ignore him,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

You giggled, the giddiness bubbling up. “He’s right, though,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “We should probably get a room.”

Heeseung’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Okay,” he said, as if it was the easiest decision in the world. “I’d never say no to that.”

Jake let out another theatrical groan from across the room, muttering something about needing bleach for his eyes. But neither of you paid him any attention as you shared a knowing glance, the warmth between you now impossible to ignore.

Laughter spilled from your lips as you and Heeseung slipped out of the living room to the quiet halls upstairs. The muffled sounds of the movie still playing below faded with every step. Heeseung stayed close, his hand brushing yours until he tugged you gently back and spun you to face him.

“Come here,” he murmured, stealing another kiss.

You giggled, pulling away just enough to tease him. “Have some restraint, will you?”

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, his voice low and mischievous. “That’s too much to ask of me, you know?”

Your laughter filled the empty corridor as you took a step back, only for Heeseung to chase after you. His hands found your waist, pulling you close before kissing you again, slower this time, his lips lingering like he had all the time in the world.

By the time you reached your bedroom door, your cheeks ached from smiling, and your heart was racing. You kissed him there, leaning against the doorframe, your fingers tangling in his hair as his hands rested firmly on your hips.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made you both freeze. You pulled apart to see your old uncle shuffling past, raising an eyebrow but saying nothing as he continued down the hall.

Heeseung pressed his forehead against yours, biting back a laugh. “Think he’ll tell your mom?”

You snorted, pushing him lightly. “Does it matter? Bet everyone knows there’s something between us by now.”

“Touche.”

With a shared grin, you twisted the doorknob and pulled him inside. The door clicked shut behind you as you stumbled into the room, your lips finding his again in the quiet.

Gentle hands cradled your face as his lips moved against yours. When he pulled back, his eyes met yours with an intensity that made youre breath hitch. His touch trailed to your chin, guiding your head slightly as his lips pressed softly along your jaw.

You tilted your head instinctively, granting him access, and he didn’t waste the opportunity. His kisses wandered down to your neck—soft brushes, playful nips, and teasingly light touches. Each one sent sparks skittering across your skin.

When his tongue flicked against the sensitive spot beneath your ear, you giggled, stepping back slightly. The sound was as much a reaction to the ticklish sensation as it was to the heat pooling low in your belly.

“Sorry,” he said, his warm laugh brushing against your skin. “I thought you’d like it.”

“Oh, I like it,” you admitted, brushing your hair aside to bare your neck again. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

His fingers lightly traced the column of your neck. “Why not?”

“I’m… ticklish,” you said shyly, rolling your eyes to downplay your embarrassment.

Heeseung chuckled, sending butterflies racing in your stomach. His smile softened as he leaned in, teasing, “Noted.”

You sighed dramatically, unable to keep the playful glint out of your eyes. “Did we come up here just so you could tease me like this, or…?”

His eyes narrowed, his expression turning mock-exasperated. “Dude, why are you ruining the moment?” he asked, pulling you by the nape of your neck for another kiss. A deep one—heated, fervent, intoxicating, leaving you heady and utterly captivated.

Carefully, he lowered you down the bed, his lips not leaving yours. With one swift motion, he pulled your shirt off and tossed it aside, pausing to marvel at your body. You could see the desire in his eyes—clear and unadulterated.

“Well? Don’t just stand there and stare,” you whined cutely, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment but trying to keep your composure.

Heeseung exhaled sharply, crawling on the bed to kiss you again. “Can’t help it.”

His lips traveled the length of your neck and collarbone, nipping and sucking, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. With his mouth, he traced the line between your breasts, down to your stomach, until he reached your navel. Heeseung didn’t stop there. He undid your jeans and tugged it down before pressing his nose on your sex and taking a long sniff.

“Heeseung,” you whispered, the pressure from his nose making your body burn with anticipation.

He knew exactly what he was doing, pushing your underwear aside and licking a stripe at the pooling wetness between your legs. He continued with expertise, making you writhe and moan in ecstasy. You tried to close your legs when the stimulation became too much, but Heeseung’s grasp of your thighs was tight, prying your legs open so he could continue what he came to do. All you could do was whimper and grab a handful of his hair.

Your mind was screaming for him to stop, but your mouth could only utter his name as your hips bucked forward, eager for more.

Then he suddenly stopped, leaving you momentarily confused. He came back up, hovering over you with a proud smile on his face. You thought he was done but before you could utter a word, two of his fingers slipped into your cunt, making you gasp.

Heeseung didn’t say anything, he just grinned wider, seemingly proud of how good he was making you feel. His fingers slid in and out in a steady pace, growing more rapid and urgent the more he saw your face contorting with pleasure and euphoria.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, your back arching as you felt the familiar knot in your belly. “Don’t stop!”

And then came a euphoric wave engulfing your entire being. You froze for a moment, your mouth gaping open as you relished the momentary high that washed over you. Heeseung’s fingers were still inside you moving in small motions as he kissed your forehead.

“That’s it. Good girl,” he lilted before capturing your lips in a fervent kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you met his kiss with a hunger that bordered on desperation. Everything else faded, and before you knew it, the two of you were naked on the bed, moving together like it was the only thing that mattered.

The air was heavy with the sounds of your shared passion—your breathless moans, his deep groans, and the unmistakable sound of skin slamming against skin. Heeseung was a perfect fit, his every thrust reaching a depth that had you spiraling into an irrational desire for more. More, as though he hadn’t already completely consumed you.

Your fingers dug into his back, your grip tightening with every surge of pleasure. When he pinned your wrists above your head, your body arched instinctively, your hands grasping at the sheets as you gasped for him to keep going. When his teeth grazed the sensitive curve of your neck, your entire body lit up, every nerve alive with overwhelming pleasure. And when he murmured your name, his voice rough and breathless, it was enough to push you closer to the edge, leaving you lost in a desperate, dizzying need for him.

Heeseung was a vice. He unraveled you, body and mind, until nothing existed but the maddening ache of him and the desperate, spiraling desire to never let this moment end.

“Oh, Heeseung.”

“What do you want, baby?” he asked in a low, deep and raspy voice sending pleasant shivers down your spine.

“Harder, Hee. Please.” you cried out, not even caring to hide how needy you were.

“Shit,” he grunted, spurred on by the need in your voice. “You’re so...”

He didn’t finish his sentence, instead, he kissed your lips and picked up his pace. Rocking with more force and intensity. Drilling deeper with every thrust. Fucking you senseless until you were crying out his name and begging him not to stop.

The knot in your core coiled tighter with every thrust, your body trembling beneath him as you clung to the last shreds of control. His movements grew more frantic, each one sending shockwaves through you that built higher and higher.

“Heeseung,” you gasped, your nails dragging down his back as the heat between you burned hotter. He groaned in response, low and guttural, the sound sending you further into overdrive.

When his mouth trailed down, teeth grazing your nipple just right, your world seemed to have shattered. A wave of pleasure crashed over you, your body arching into his as you cried out, completely undone. He followed moments later, a broken sound leaving his lips as he buried himself deeper, his own release spilling into you.

For a moment, neither of you moved, both catching your breaths with your foreheads pressed together. The world slowly shifted into focus, the haze of what had happened between you lingered in the air as you found yourself coming back down from what had felt like an incomparable high. Soon though, the weight of his body pressing against yours made breathing slightly harder.

You gave him a gentle nudge, your voice soft. “Heeseung, you’re heavy.”

He grinned, rolling onto the bed beside you with a contented sigh. “Better?”

You nodded, meeting his gaze as he brushed a few stray hairs from your face. “You okay?” he asked, his tone quiet but sure.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice coming out quieter than intended. “You?”

Heeseung’s smile widened. “Never better.”

Before you could think of something clever to say, he leaned in, his lips grazing yours in a way that made your heart flutter all over again. The two of you stayed like that for a while, stealing quiet, intimate moments in the privacy of your bedroom. Eventually, you both knew you couldn’t hide away forever.

When you finally slipped back into the hallway, your cheeks were still warm, and you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Heeseung stayed close, his shoulder brushing against yours as you rejoined your family in the living room.

For the rest of the day, his presence was a constant. Whether he was cracking jokes with Jake or leaning in to share a private comment that made you laugh, it felt like he’d completely settled into your orbit—and you didn’t mind.

It didn’t take long for everyone else in the house to notice your growing closeness with Heeseung. Your cousins teased you relentlessly, joking that Heeseung was the Christmas Miracle who made you shed your Grinch fur. Even your parents joined in.

“Had I known all it would take for you to stop grimacing every year on Christmas was a boyfriend,” your dad quipped, “I would’ve asked your mom to set you up on blind dates ages ago.”

“Ew, Dad. That’s so lame,” you replied with a grimace, though a pang of guilt flickered in your chest. For years, they’d put up with your reluctance to embrace the holiday spirit, and it hadn’t been fair to them.

Later, while Heeseung was off chatting with your cousins, your mom quietly pulled you aside. “I like him,” she said with a knowing smile. “He seems like a really sweet guy.”

“He is,” you admitted softly, hesitating. “But we don’t know much about each other. This is probably just… some temporary holiday fling.”

“Is that what you think?” she asked, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Well, sometimes those ‘temporary’ things surprise you. It’s just nice to see you happy.”

Her words replayed in your head, even as the evening unfolded into more teasing, laughter, and the occasional stolen glances between you and Heeseung. It felt effortless, the way he was seamlessly pulled into your family’s fold—laughing with your cousins, charming your parents, and somehow always finding his way back to your side.

At one point, as you leaned against the porch railing, your gaze wandering to the clear night sky, Heeseung appeared at your side. His hand brushed yours before his fingers slipped between them, the motion casual but deliberate.

“Wanna get out of here?” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear.

“And go where?” you asked, your voice just above a whisper.

“Anywhere,” he said with a crooked smile. “I just wanna be alone with you.”

You didn’t even have time to answer before Jake, lounging on the couch nearby, cut in with exaggerated indignation. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he sighed.

“But now that it is happening, I guess all I can say is fuck you guys and please get out of my sight,” Jake added, rolling his eyes. “You have no respect for the single loners hanging out with you, did you know that?”

You snickered. “This is why you bring your girlfriend home for the holidays, not a hot friend.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Jake retorted, crossing his arms.

“And whose fault is that?” you teased with a grin.

Jake shot you a pointed look. “Don’t act so smug. You’ve been a Christmas Grinch for years. I’m not taking any advice from you.”

“Fair,” you admitted with a shrug, wanting so much to keep taunting him but deciding against it because he was right.

Your cousin cut in from across the room. “Jake, when did you say you were leaving again?”

“Tomorrow morning,” he replied.

“Already?” you asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” he continued, his tone dripping with self-satisfaction. “We have a New Year event at uni. Heeseung’s needed for some important technical stuff. And me? Well, they need me for my invaluable presence.”

The chatter around you faded into the background as Heeseung tugged you closer. “You should come see it,” he whispered, his voice low and filled with intention.

You tilted your head, curious. “Is it fun?”

“I hope so,” he said with a small, crooked smile. “If it’s not, I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

You giggled when he kissed the side of your head. “How are you gonna do that?”

“Well, for starters…” He paused, whispering lower, “I’ll take you somewhere private and show you a really good time.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Lame,” you quipped, pushing his face away.

Heeseung threw his head back laughing. “Okay. I’ll try to come up with something better.”

And just like that, the night became a blur of moments—each one filled with laughter, teasing, and kisses that were never fully explained, only given and received.

It happened again. And again. The gentle pull of his lips on yours, the warmth of his touch, the way he always found a way to stand just a little too close. By the time the night had fully settled into the late hours, the two of you were tangled up in your bedroom again, tipsy, comfortable, and perhaps a little too far gone to really care about the next morning.

The train ride back to the city was as mundane as ever, but there was a nice buzz in your nerves this time. You sat back comfortably, looking out the window at the snowy landscape that blurred past. The past few days felt like a dream, a Christmas full of laughter, teasing, and beautiful moments with Heeseung.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, pulling you from your thoughts.

Heeseung: See you Wednesday?

You smiled to yourself, the memories of the past few days flooding back—his easy laughter, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the room, and the way his touch always seemed to leave a mark on your skin. It had all gone by so quickly, but in the best way possible. Everything had felt easy, comfortable, and natural in a way you hadn’t expected.

The holiday season had come to an end, but what you’d shared with Heeseung was just starting to unfold. There was something about it that felt like fate, or maybe just the simple truth that it was time for you to stop waiting for something that had no guarantee would ever happen.

You quickly typed your reply, your fingers moving almost instinctively.

You: Can’t wait.

When you hit send, you leaned back into the seat, letting the train’s motions settle the buzz in your busy mind. The thought of seeing him again made your heart clench in the most pleasant way.

You couldn’t wait for Wednesday. For fuck’s sake, you couldn’t wait for the New Year.

[fin]

#heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #enhypen smut #heeseung x you #heeseung x yn #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #lee heeseung imagines #lee heeseung fluff #lee heeseung x you #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen x female reader #heeseung fluff #heeseung fanfic #enhypen fluff #enhypen fic

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saythenametotheworld · 5 months ago

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is it new year's yet? | l.mk (18+)

Synopsis: Coming home for Christmas is your least favorite part of the year. But this time, you're up for a pleasant surprise when you get introduced to your cousin's friend from uni, Mark Lee. Genre: holiday fling, smut Pairing: Mark Lee x afab!Reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit content (18+) Notes: 9.7k words. Listening to is it new year's yet by Sabrina Carpenter. A little late holiday treat for you all! I miss writing for Mark sm. I'm on vacation so I've been MIA and will be MIA for a few more days. ALSO if you see a different version of this fic on a different account for a different idol, it's me. I have decided to open a different blog for other groups. xoxo, cal.

ENJOY!

Holidays are for family reunions and coming home to bond with your loved ones. Bullshit. You’d rather be anywhere but here.

Home. Familiar, warm, and somehow... suffocating.

“Did you lose weight?” a distant aunt asked, her eyes raking over you like you were a mannequin in a store window. “You need to eat more. You’re so skinny.”

You wove your way through the crowd, dodging overly familiar pats on the shoulder and sidelong glances that screamed When are you graduating? or Where’s your boyfriend?

You needed air. Or another drink. Although, both are fine too.

“Fuck this,” you muttered under your breath, stuffing your phone back in your pocket as you walked out of the kitchen.

Rounding the corner too fast, you slammed into someone—a steady grip caught your arm before the champagne could spill.

“Easy there,” he said, his voice low and warm. You glanced up and found a stranger: jet-black hair with an undercut, sharp jawline, and an easy smile that contrasted with the chaos around you. He looked your age, maybe a bit older.

“Oooh, look who showed up!” Hendery said, tilting his head with that playful glint you always found irritating.

You rolled your eyes. “I always show up.”

“Of course you do.” Hendery leaned against the wall, arms crossed and grinning. “You hate it here, don’t you?”

You tilted your head at him, pretending to think. “What gave it away? My overflowing enthusiasm?”

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” Hendery teased. “A little family bonding with your favorite aunts would be nice. Aren’t you supposed to pack them a gift each?”

You drained the last of your champagne, letting the fizz linger as you looked at your cousin. “I’d rather die.”

Hendery laughed, nudging Mark with his elbow. “This is my cousin. She’s the resident Grinch. But don’t worry; she’s fun when she wants to be.”

“I can hear you,” you gloated.

“I know,” he said, his grin widening. “So? Are you going to spend the whole night sipping champagne like a miserable bore?”

You gave him a flat look. “Oh my god. You can read minds?” you deadpanned.

“Well, perfect! You’re already dressed for the occasion,” he quipped, gesturing vaguely at your casual attire. He laughed but stopped when you didn’t even crack a smile. “Tell you what, Mark and I are heading out. You’re welcome to join us if you want to.”

“No.”

“Come on. It’s gonna be fun.” Before you could refuse again, Hendery slung an arm around your shoulder and turned to Mark. “She’ll come. She just likes to play hard to get.”

“I really won’t,” you retorted, trying to shrug him off. “I don’t feel like tailing you two all night.”

“What else are you gonna do—sit in a corner and glare at people?”

You rolled your eyes, but the answer was obvious. Staying inside meant more questions, more relatives, more everything you were trying to avoid.

“Fine,” you muttered. “But if you drag me into something ridiculous—”

“You’ll have fun. Promise,” Hendery interrupted and then turned to Mark. “She’s coming.”

Mark’s smile was easy, almost reassuring. “No pressure. It’ll be chill.”

You smirked. “You clearly don’t know Hendery.”

With that, Hendery led the way, practically bouncing out the door. You followed, stuffing your hands into your coat pockets as Mark fell into step beside you.

The winter air hit you like a slap, crisp and biting, slicing through the lingering scents of cinnamon and pine. It was a relief, though, clearing your head from the stifling warmth of the house. You walked down the quiet streets with Hendery, Mark, and a few friends you used to hang out with growing up. They led the way, cracking jokes and tossing playful banter back and forth, while you stuck closer to the back with Mark.

“I can’t believe they’re still dating,” you muttered, eyeing a pair in front of you.

“Who? Them?” Mark asked, making you glance briefly at them.

You nodded. “They started dating when we were sophomores in high school. And they’re still together.”

Mark hummed. “They must really like each other then.”

“Guess they like running in circles,” Mark said lightly, shoving his hands in his pockets. He glanced sideways at you. “What about you? Do you think people like that can actually work out?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, unsure if the question was casual or probing. “I think it depends on how much drama you can stomach. Personally, I’d rather avoid it altogether.”

Mark tilted his head thoughtfully. “No drama, huh? That’s a pretty high bar for relationships.”

You smirked, knowing how ironic it was for you to say this despite having a relationship drama. “Tell me about it,” you mumbled.

It was easy to figure out Mark’s intentions. The whole time, he didn’t try to hide it, nor did he try to send mixed signals. It was pretty clear with how close he was standing beside you, how his shoulder almost brushed yours. The way Mark’s eyes lingered on you when you spoke, the way he tilted his head when you laughed, like he was committing the sound to memory. How, even when you weren’t talking, he stayed within arm’s reach, his gaze flickering to you every now and then. How his focus remained on you.

And then there was the way he leaned in just slightly when he made a comment, his voice low, his words meant only for you.

He was attentive in a way that surprised you, even in the most casual moments. As you explained how you and your friends used to kill time in this sleepy town—late-night drives to the lookout point, sneaking snacks into the single-screen movie theater, racing bikes down the old dirt trail—Mark listened with genuine curiosity, his eyes lighting up with every story.

You tilted your head, feigning offense. “Why do you sound so skeptical?”

“Oh, I believe you,” he said, his smirk widening. “I’m just wondering how many people you bribed to throw the race.”

You gasped playfully. “Excuse me, I won fair and square.”

“Sure you did.” His laughter was low, warm, the kind that made you feel comfortable with him.

You smirked. “Why else would I bring it up? Go ask them.”

He chuckled, nodding his head. “You seem really confident… I believe you.”

You were quiet for a while, with only the creaking sound of swing filling the silence. The tip of your shoes dragged lightly with every swing, carving the damp ground underneath.

Mark asked after the silence stretched out. “So, is that all you did for fun around here?”

“Pretty much,” you said with a shrug. “Lame, huh?”

“Not at all. It’s simple but it has its charm,” he said softly, pausing as he held the swing tight to stop it. “It says a lot about you though.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at him with a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “Are you calling me charming?”

“Maybe,” he said, his voice light but his gaze unwavering. “What would you do if I was?”

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Depends. Is this small-town charm talking, or do you actually mean it?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Trust me, I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

“Well, aren’t you a smooth talker?” you teased, though your voice had softened, your usual sharpness dulled by the way Mark was looking at you.

He grinned, leaning just a little closer, his voice dropping lower. “Only with the right company.”

You held his gaze. “Right company, huh?” you murmured, your heart thudding as you tilted your head, meeting his eyes.

He smiled faintly, his voice dipping lower. “You know I mean it.”

Your fingers twitched on the swing’s chain, almost brushing his. His lips hovered near yours now, and for a moment, everything else faded away—

“Yo, there you are!” Hendery’s voice broke through the stillness, loud and completely unbothered.

You flinched, the spell breaking as you turned toward the sound of footsteps crunching against the gravel. Hendery and the others were strolling toward you, their laughter cutting through the quiet.

Mark straightened quickly, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips as he ran a hand through his hair. “Ah, that’s too bad,” he murmured, his voice low enough just for you. “I thought we’d finally lost them.”

A quiet laugh escaped you, even as warmth lingered on your cheeks. “I didn’t know we were doing that.”

He shrugged, a glint of mischief in his eyes, so you swatted his chest lightly, the playfulness easing the tension.

Hendery raised an eyebrow as he approached, his gaze flicking between you and Mark. “What, were you two having a moment or something?”

“Not even close,” you shot back, sharper than you intended. “What do you want?”

“Lori was asking if your mom baked a fruitcake this year,” he said, pointing toward your friend Lori.

You glanced at her, catching her expectant grin. “You know what,” you said, rising to your feet, “she did. You should grab some before it’s gone.”

Lori and the others cheered. Though your mom’s fruitcake wasn’t your favorite—too sweet for your taste—you still felt a swell of pride knowing it was the highlight of every Christmas. It was this pride that made you wanna bring them over, so with Hendery leading your group, you headed back to your house, noisy and in high spirits.

Like opposite sides of magnets, you and Mark found each other again and fell behind the rest of the group. He leaned into your ear as he asked, “Are we gonna pick up where we left off?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Depends on how charming you are for the rest of the night.”

He held your gaze, his smile softening. “Challenge accepted.”

Mark didn’t even bother denying it. His smile widened, his voice steady as he replied, “Can you blame me?”

You chuckled. “Don’t fall for me, though. I’d hate to break your heart once the holidays are over,” you told him, grinning playfully before walking faster to rejoin your friends.

Mark stayed back for a moment, watching you. Too late, he thought. You really should’ve warned him sooner.

“If this was a uni party, someone would’ve spiked the eggnog already,” you mumbled, your eyes scanning the room filled with family, friends, and all the usual holiday chaos.

Mark’s voice was low beside you, cutting through the noise. “Really?”

You nodded, not looking at him. “Oh yeah. If you want to survive the night here, you have to make your own fun.” You shot him a side glance, half-smiling. “Otherwise, it’s just... this.”

For a brief moment, Mark said nothing, but you could feel him shifting beside you. Then, in a voice laced with amusement and mischief, he said, “I’ll be right back.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Alarmed, you grabbed his arm and yanked him back before he could get too far. “No, Mark!”

He turned toward you, his grin dangerous. “What?”

“No, seriously,” you whispered urgently, trying to keep your voice down. You scanned the room quickly, then pointed across it with dramatic flair. “Old people.”

Mark’s brow furrowed, clearly confused, so you leaned in just a little closer. “That’s my great-uncle,” you said, nodding toward an elderly man in a faded cardigan who was snoozing away in the rocking chair. “He’s 84 and can’t have alcohol. But he’s obsessed with eggnog. Let’s not ruin this for him.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, fighting back a laugh. “That’s not so Grinch of you.”

“I make exceptions for people I like,” you said, your voice dropping to a playful whisper.

His smile deepened, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Is that so?” he asked, teasing but warm. “What exceptions have you made for me so far?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop your smile from widening. “I’m not answering that.”

“So there is something, then?” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek, as if the answer were hidden in your response.

“I’m not answering that either.” You chuckled, taking a step back with an exaggerated sigh. You started heading toward the patio, but Mark’s long strides quickly caught up, his footsteps just behind you.

The cold night air hit your skin as you stepped onto the patio, but the firepit’s warmth immediately enveloped you. Your friends and cousins gathered around, roasting marshmallows and swapping stories. You sat on the same bench as Mark, his presence adding warmth and comfort. You joined the conversations with the others, while occasionally having your own little talks with Mark.

As the night wore on, the laughter around the firepit thinned out, your companions dispersing one by one to retire for the night. Soon, it was just you, Mark, and Hendery—both guys occupied with something on Hendery’s phone.Left to your own devices, you scrolled aimlessly through social media, eventually landing on a friend’s Instagram story.

“I’m fine,” you mouthed, holding his hand that rested on your arm.

Suddenly, Hendery shot up from his seat with a sharp exhale. “Let’s get out of here. I’m about to lose it with this Mariah Carey song they’ve got on repeat.”

“You go ahead. I’m gonna stick around for a bit,” Mark replied, squeezing your arm before rubbing his thumb against your jacket.

Hendery noticed your joined hands and narrowed his eyes at the two of you. “You guys are getting cozy.”

“Are we?” you teased, glancing at Mark and shrugging. You leaned against his chest playfully and added, “I hardly noticed.”

Mark played along, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer. Hendery shook his head, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “If you’re gonna have sex, don’t do it in our room.”

The comment made you roll your eyes. “This is my house, Hendery. We can do it in my bedroom!”

Hendery didn’t respond, only raised a middle finger at you two before walking away. You laughed, watching him disappear into the house. But beside you, Mark had stopped grinning, his expression shifting to something more serious, his eyes wide with shock.

You raised an eyebrow. “What? I was just joking.”

Mark blinked a few times, looking away as he cleared his throat. “Yeah, I know.” His voice was a little more strained, and you noticed a blush creeping up his neck.

You couldn’t resist teasing him further. “Did you think I was serious?” you asked, leaning in just a little closer.

Mark turned his head slightly, his eyes flickering toward you for a brief moment before he fixed his gaze on the fire. “Not at all,” he replied quickly.

“Oh? So you’re not interested?” you pressed, enjoying the sight of him flustered.

“I didn’t say that,” he responded too eagerly, too quickly.

Mark didn’t answer immediately, but you saw his posture stiffen, his hand slipping from your shoulder as he cleared his throat again. The air between you two felt thicker now, charged with something neither of you wanted to bring up.

You let the silence hang there for a few moments before turning to look at the house, your smile a little softer. “Anyway,” you muttered, standing up, “let’s get back inside.”

Mark didn’t say anything as he followed you, the air between you was thick with tension, but neither of you said much as you both walked toward the staircase leading up to the upper floors. It was past midnight. You had intended to hang out with him a bit more, but the night suddenly started to catch up with you after that awkward exchange with Mark.

It shouldn’t be a surprise. He clearly wanted you, at least based on how he’d been flirting with you all night and how you almost kissed at the playground earlier. And to be honest, you were entertaining the idea of a holiday fling with Mark. He was very attractive and he’d done nothing to raise any red flags so far. So why did the sudden sexual tension seem to make things awkward between you?

As you reached the hallway, you turned to him with a small smile. “Well, guess it’s time for me to call it a night,” you said, your voice a little quieter than usual.

Mark nodded, but there was something in his expression that suggested he wasn’t ready to say goodnight just yet. “Yeah… sure,” he replied, his eyes focused on you.

You both stopped in front of your door and there was a silence that stretched longer than either of you anticipated. When you reached for the doorknob, Mark didn’t say anything, though you could see the dejected look in his eyes that he failed to mask with the smile he was wearing.

Mark smiled warmly. “I might have volunteered to be tomorrow’s Santa Claus, so I think I’d still be here.”

You chuckled, the tension easing just a little. “Are you serious?”

“No,” he chimed with a playful grin, reaching for your hand and brushing his fingers lightly across your skin.

“Mark, I—” you began, only to cut yourself off because you didn’t really know what you were gonna say. Or if you should even say anything at all.

But then you both understood without words. Your nerves seemed to settle, and without another sound, Mark leaned in, his lips pressing gently against yours.

When the kiss broke, you both stood there, breathless, eyes wide. You let out a nervous laugh, still trying to gather your thoughts. “That didn’t just happen,” you chuckled.

Mark’s gaze softened, his lips curling up into a small, almost sheepish smile. “Was that too fast?” he questioned playfully.

You exhaled a laugh, shaking your head. “Not really, but… let’s just pretend it didn’t happen,” you said, trying to play it cool, but your heart was still racing.

He nodded quickly. “Yeah. Good idea.”

When he pulled back slightly, his gaze was intense, searching yours. “You good?” he rasped, his breath warm against your face.

“Totally,” you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him back in for another kiss.

You kicked your bedroom door open, tugging him inside without breaking the kiss. In no time, you found your back pressed against the wall right by the door, Mark’s lips ravaging yours with a kiss that made you go feral.

When his hand slipped under your shirt, you held it tightly, debating whether to let him go there—caught between wanting to retreat and wanting to give in. As your hesitation stretched, Mark took it as his cue to pull away—not completely, just enough to press his forehead against yours and cup your cheeks

“Is that a ‘no’?” he whispered, his voice laced with playful warmth.

You chuckled, still a little drunk on his lips—on him. “Are you hurt?” you asked playfully, though your concern was sincere. “Your ego, I mean.”

“Hmm, not really,” he replied, shivering under your touch when your hand ran from his arm to his neck. “I’m more hurt somewhere else.”

That made you laugh and hit his chest playfully. Mark caught your hand, keeping it on his chest as he closed his eyes—forehead still pressed against, his breathing steady but deep, his lips lifted slightly in a faint smile.

You planted a soft kiss on his lips and took a small step back. “Aren’t you leaving?”

Mark clutched his chest, feigning a pained look. “Ouch. I’m getting kicked out too? This is torture.”

The sound of Christmas carols from the living room filtered through the door, a reminder of the world just outside, but neither of you seemed in a rush to leave. Mark looked around your dimly lit bedroom, studying the space as if familiarizing himself.

“I don’t want to push my luck,” he said, his voice low as he glanced back at you. “But this is much cozier than the guest room I’m sharing with Hendery.”

You smirked, catching the insinuation in his statement. “It’s a no, Mark.”

Mark winced visibly. “Is that final?” he asked, making you chuckle.

“We only just met.”

He shrugged, nodding thoughtfully. “That’s fair. It was worth a shot, though.”

You had to admit, you considered it. Just the idea of being in Mark’s arms stirred something inside you. A feeling that, if you were being honest, you weren’t expecting to feel at all when you boarded the train home for the holidays. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe the loneliness of the night creeping in, but right now, you felt more alive than you had in weeks.

Mark tilted your chin, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips once more. “Good night?”

“Good night,” you chimed, holding his hand against your cheek.

But he made no move to leave, he just stood there, staring at you as if it would physically pain him to look away. Then he leaned in for another kiss, and you were more than happy to oblige.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” he teased, forehead pressing against yours.

“You’re one to talk,” you retorted, rolling your eyes playfully, though your smile was soft, just a little more sincere now.

The next morning, breakfast unfolded in a much quieter manner than last night’s festivities with everyone still half-asleep and quietly eating. Across the table, Mark seemed perfectly at ease, though you couldn’t ignore the occasional glance he sent your way—or how your gaze sometimes lingered on him longer than it should.

Your mom’s attention was on him, which was understandable since he was the only new face around the dining table. Your mom said she didn’t get the chance to properly get to know him because yesterday was hectic. Mark didn’t seem to mind, he was polite and spoke with courteousness and a charming demeanor.

You got to know a few things about him from their conversation. He’s a Music major at the same university as Hendery, he’s Korean but was raised in Canada. And he came with Hendery because he couldn’t fly back home for Christmas.

“So, Mark,” your mom began to add as she reached for another piece of toast, her tone light but curious. “How do you know Hendery?”

You smirked, glancing at your cousin. “Yeah. You seem too cool to be hanging out with this dork.”

Mark glanced at Hendery, who was already grinning as if he knew what story Mark was going to tell. “We met during our first year,” Mark said, chuckling. “I was waiting for a class to start, and out of nowhere, he sat down next to me and just… started talking.”

“Talking about what?” your mom asked.

Mark hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh… pigeons.”

“Pigeons?”

“Yeah,” Mark replied, his laugh a little sheepish. “He was convinced that pigeons were government drones or something, and he just kept going on about it. For like, twenty minutes. I thought he was messing with me, but he was dead serious.”

Hendery piped up from further down the table. “They are drones, by the way.”

The table burst into laughter, while you shot Hendery an incredulous look. “You don’t actually believe that, do you?”

Hendery looked unbothered. “Oh, I do. As a matter of fact—”

“Nevermind,” you interrupted, cutting him off. “Forget I asked.”

Mark was grinning. “Honestly, I didn’t know what to think at first, but it was kind of refreshing. Everyone else was so uptight, and here’s this guy just dropping pigeon conspiracies out of nowhere.”

Your mom laughed again, shaking her head. “Well, that’s one way to make a friend.”

“And now you’re stuck with him,” you teased, looking at Mark.

“Pretty much,” Mark agreed, his gaze flicking to you with a warm smile. “But hey, life’s never boring with Hendery around.”

You smirked. “You’re too kind. Just say he’s an idiot. He doesn’t mind.”

Hendery waved his fork in the air, scoffing at you. “Joke’s on you. Mark would never say something so mean.”

Mark shrugged. “Well, he’s kind of… an idiot.”

Hendery gasped dramatically. “What have you done to my friend?” he accused dramatically.

The conversation soon shifted from playful banter to lighter topics as the meal wound down. You mostly stayed quiet, stealing occasional glances at Mark, who somehow managed to charm your family without even trying. When breakfast ended, your mom handed you a towel. “You’re on dish duty today,” she said with a kind smile.

Mark stood without hesitation. “I’ll help.”

“Very gallant of you,” your mom quipped, her tone amused as she watched you carry the dishes away.

When your family was out of earshot, Mark leaned in close, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Figured I’d earn some points.”

“So,” he began after a moment, breaking the silence with his usual casual tone. “Your mom’s cool. Super curious, though.”

You snorted. “That’s her way of being welcoming. Consider yourself officially part of the family.”

“Is that so?” he asked, his tone teasing. “Guess that means I have to stick around,” he added, bumping his elbow against your arm.

You rolled your eyes, recognizing the playful hint. “Only as Dery’s friend, though.”

“Son-in-Law is a pretty big leap from Nephew’s College Friend.”

He grinned with mock confidence. “I’m Mark Lee. Anything’s possible.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Alright, Golden Boy.”

“You’ve got a pretty lively family,” Mark said after a pause, his tone softening. “They remind me of mine.”

“Oh, yeah?” You glanced at him, curious. “Big Christmas crowd?”

“Not as big as yours, but yeah. We do the whole chaos thing. My mom insists on playing charades after dinner, even though none of us can act to save our lives.”

You chuckled at the image, your hand brushing his as you passed him a plate. The touch lingered for half a second too long, enough to make your heart skip a beat. When you looked at him, Mark was already watching you, his voice dropping to something quieter as he leaned closer to whisper in your ear.

“By the way, you look lovely this morning.”

The compliment hit harder than it should’ve, leaving you momentarily flustered. You managed to play it off with a teasing smile. “Trying to earn more points?”

“Maybe,” he replied with a grin, leaning just a fraction closer.

You rolled your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. “Just dry the dishes.”

His soft laughter warmed the kitchen, the hum of last night’s lingering tension sparking again between you. By the time you handed him the final dish, there were no more “accidental” brushes—Mark took your hand outright, pulling you gently forward to steal a quick, mischievous kiss.

You gasped, heat rushing to your face as you slapped his arm. “You sneaky little—”

You scoffed, stepping back slightly. “Don’t push your luck.”

But when you turned to leave, Mark caught your wrist, pulling you back into a tight embrace. “Where are you going? Stay.”

You hesitated for half a second, then melted into his hold, your hands settling lightly on his waist. “What are we even doing?” you asked, chuckling lowly.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, resting his chin lightly against your hair. “But it’s nice.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It kinda is.”

The moment was broken by the faint sound of singing from the direction of the main door. Mark’s brows rose as he glanced toward the sound. “Carolers?”

Hendery noticed you standing beside him and leaned in. “Tell me why I can’t punch the carolers.”

You snorted. “Because it’s not their fault you didn’t pass the auditions.”

“Right,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes.

“Dude, what? You auditioned for this?” Mark asked, his expression bewildered.

Hendery smirked, unbothered by the attention. “I’m a man of many talents, my friend. They fumbled real bad when they decided to reject me.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, exasperated. “You’re insufferable.”

“You love me for it.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. Christmas morning chaos, as always.

The rest of the day unfolded in a series of warm, chaotic moments. After the carolers left, your family gathered in the living room, eager to keep the festive spirit alive.

Someone—probably Hendery—suggested a game of charades. It started out as a reluctant group activity but quickly spiraled into uncontrollable laughter as your aunt wildly flailed her arms trying to mimic Jaws, and your dad confused everyone by acting out Titanic with interpretive dance.

Mark fit right in, his easy humor making him an absolute hit. He was surprisingly good at charades, though you suspected he was just adept at playing to the crowd. When it was your turn to act, he leaned over to Hendery and whispered something that had both of them laughing under their breath—probably a jab at your complete lack of acting skills. You shot them a mock glare, but it only made Mark grin wider.

“You shouldn’t have,” your mom said with a soft smile, wrapping the scarf around her neck immediately.

Others exchanged gifts, too, and to your surprise, a few came your way: a box of chocolates from your aunt, fuzzy socks from Hendery, and a cute notebook from a younger cousin. You hadn’t expected anything from anyone other than your parents, so it warmed you more than you cared to admit.

Mark, meanwhile, didn’t seem fazed by the lack of a gift exchange between the two of you. Instead, as the wrapping paper chaos settled, he nudged your arm.

“Guess we forgot to plan this part, huh?” he said, his tone light but his eyes searching yours.

“Yeah, well,” you replied, shrugging, “we didn’t exactly have time for shopping.”

Mark leaned back against the couch, thoughtful. Then his face lit up with an idea. “How about we exchange something else?”

“Like what?” you asked, curious.

He reached for his phone, pulling up a playlist. “Music,” he said simply. “I’ll share a song I love, and you do the same. It’s like a tiny window into who we are.”

You hesitated for a moment but nodded. “Okay. You first.”

“I like it,” you admitted, handing the phone back.

“Your turn,” he said, leaning closer as if to make sure he wouldn’t miss a beat.

You picked something a little more upbeat but with a nostalgic edge. The second it started, Mark grinned, nodding along to the rhythm. “Good choice. I can see why you like it.”

Later, as the family settled down for a Christmas movie, Mark ended up beside you on the couch. The warmth of him sitting close felt comforting, and somewhere in the middle of Love Actually, his hand found yours under the blanket draped over your laps. It wasn’t showy or obvious; no one else noticed.

Mark leaned closer, his voice low but curious. “Who is he?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“The guy,” he clarified. “The one who keeps making you wait for him.”

You chuckled nervously. “There is no guy.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. You sighed. “Fine. There is—was, actually. I think I’m done waiting for him.”

“Why is that?”

You tilted your head slightly, taking a very good look at the beautiful man before you. A smile crept across your lips. Why, he asked? It was because you met him—Mark Lee, who wanted you and made it clear. Mark Lee, who gave you signals and acted on them. Mark Lee, who not only spoke honestly about how much he liked you but also went out of his way to show it. Mark Lee, who gave you more in two days than Yeonjun had in three months.

“You staring at me like that is making me wanna kiss you right now,” Mark said softly, cutting through your reverie.

You grinned. “Do it then.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His lips brushed yours, warm and soft, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

Across from you, Hendery grimaced, letting out an exaggerated groan. “Guys. Just get a room already.”

You pulled back, laughing, your cheeks warm with embarrassment. Mark didn’t seem fazed, his smirk playful as he leaned closer, lacing his fingers with yours.

“Ignore him,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

You giggled, the giddiness bubbling up despite yourself. “He’s right, though,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “We should probably get a room.”

Mark’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Okay,” he said, as if it was the easiest decision in the world. “I’d never say no to that.”

Hendery let out another theatrical groan from across the room, muttering something about needing bleach for his eyes. But neither of you paid him any attention as you shared a knowing glance, the warmth between you now impossible to ignore.

Laughter spilled from your lips as you and Mark slipped out of the living room to the quiet halls upstairs. The muffled sounds of the movie still playing below faded with every step. Mark stayed close, his hand brushing yours until he tugged you gently back, spinning you to face him.

“Come here,” he murmured, stealing another kiss, his lips warm against yours.

You giggled, pulling away just enough to tease him. “Have some restraint, will you?”

He grinned, leaning in to whisper in your ear, his voice low and mischievous. “That’s too much to ask of me, you know?”

Your laughter filled the empty corridor as you took a step back, only for Mark to chase after you. His hands found your waist, pulling you close before kissing you again, slower this time, his lips lingering like he had all the time in the world.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made you both freeze. You pulled apart to see your old uncle shuffling past, raising an eyebrow but saying nothing as he continued down the hall.

Mark pressed his forehead against yours, biting back a laugh. “Think he’ll tell your mom?”

You snorted, pushing him lightly. “Does it matter? Bet everyone knows there’s something between us by now.”

“Touche.”

With a shared grin, you twisted the doorknob and pulled him inside. The door clicked shut behind you as you stumbled into the room, your lips finding his again in the quiet.

His kiss was unhurried, deliberate—gentle hands cradling your face as his lips moved against yours. When he pulled back, his eyes met yours, the intensity of his gaze making your breath hitch. His touch trailed to your chin, guiding your head slightly as his lips pressed softly along your jaw.

“Sorry,” he said, his warm laugh brushing against your skin. “I thought you’d like it.”

“Oh, I like it,” you admitted, brushing your hair aside to bare your neck again. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

His fingers lightly traced the column of your neck. “Why not?”

“I’m… ticklish,” you said shyly, rolling your eyes to downplay your embarrassment.

Mark chuckled, the sound rich and low, sending butterflies racing in your stomach. His smile softened as he leaned in, teasing, “Noted.”

You sighed dramatically, unable to keep the playful glint out of your eyes. “Did we come up here just so you could tease me like this, or…?”

Carefully, he lowered you down the bed, his lips not leaving yours. With one swift motion, he pulled your shirt off and tossed it aside. Then he paused, his gaze sweeping over you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

Desire burned in his eyes—raw and unmistakable—leaving no doubt about how much he wanted you.

“Well? Don’t just stand there and stare,” you whined cutely, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment but trying to keep your composure.

Mark exhaled sharply, crawling on the bed to kiss you again. “Can’t help it.”

His lips traveled the length of your neck and collarbone, nipping and sucking, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. With his mouth, he traced the line between your breasts, down to your stomach, until he reached your navel. Mark didn’t stop there. He undid your jeans and tugged it down before pressing his nose on your sex and taking a long sniff.

“Mark,” you whispered, the pressure from his nose making your body burn with anticipation.

He knew exactly what he was doing, pushing your underwear aside and licking a stripe at the pooling wetness between your legs. He continued with expertise, making you writhe and moan in ecstasy. You tried to close your legs when the stimulation became too much, but Mark’s grasp of your thighs were tight, prying your legs open so he could continue what he came to do. All you could do was whimper and grab a handful of his hair.

Your mind was screaming for him to stop, but your mouth could only utter his name as your hips bucked forward, eager for more.

Mark didn’t say anything, he just grinned wider, seemingly proud of how good he was making you feel. His fingers slid in and out in a steady pace, growing more rapid and urgent the more he saw your face contorting with pleasure and euphoria.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, your back arching as you felt the familiar knot in your belly. “Don’t stop!”

And then came a euphoric wave engulfing your entire being. You froze for a moment, your mouth gaping open as you relished the momentary high that washed over you. Mark’s fingers were still inside you as he kissed your forehead.

“That’s it. Good girl,” he lilted before capturing your lips in a fervent kiss.

The air was thick with the sounds of your shared passion—your breathless moans, his deep groans, and the unmistakable sound of skin slamming against skin. Mark was a perfect fit, his every thrust reaching a depth that had spiraling into an irrational desire for more. More, as though he hadn’t already completely consumed you.

Your fingers dug into his back, your grip tightening with every surge of pleasure. When he pinned your wrists above your head, your body arched instinctively, your hands grasping at the sheets as you gasped for him to keep going. When his teeth nipped at the sensitive curve of your neck, your entire body lit up, every nerve alive with overwhelming pleasure. And when he murmured your name, his voice rough and breathless, it was enough to push you closer to the edge, leaving you lost in a desperate, dizzying need for him.

Mark was a vice. He unraveled you, body and mind, until nothing existed but the maddening ache of him and the desperate, spiraling desire to never let this moment end.

“Oh, Mark.”

“What do you want, baby?” he asked in a low, deep and raspy voice sending pleasant shivers down your spine.

“Harder, Mark. Please.” you cried out, not even caring to hide how needy you were.

“Fuck,” he grunted, spurred on by the need in your voice. “You’re so...”

“Mark,” you gasped, your nails dragging down his back as the heat between you burned hotter. He groaned in response, low and guttural, the sound sending you further into overdrive.

You gave him a gentle nudge, your voice soft. “Mark, you’re heavy.”

He grinned, rolling onto the bed beside you with a contented sigh. “Better?”

You nodded, meeting his gaze as he brushed a few stray hairs from your face. “You okay?” he asked, his tone quiet but sure.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice coming out quieter than intended. “You?”

Mark’s smile widened. “Never better.”

When you finally slipped back into the hallway, your cheeks were still warm, and you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Mark stayed close, his shoulder brushing against yours as you rejoined your family in the living room.

For the rest of the day, his presence was a constant. Whether he was cracking jokes with Hendery or leaning in to share a private comment that made you laugh, it felt like he’d completely settled into your orbit—and you didn’t mind.

It didn’t take long for everyone else in the house to notice your growing closeness with Mark. Your cousins teased you relentlessly, joking that Mark was the Christmas Miracle who made you shed your Grinch fur. Even your parents joined in.

“Had I known all it would take for you to stop grimacing every year on Christmas was a boyfriend,” your dad quipped, “I would’ve asked your mom to set you up on blind dates ages ago.”

Later, while Mark was off chatting with your cousins, your mom quietly pulled you aside. “I like him,” she said with a knowing smile. “He seems like a really sweet guy.”

“He is,” you admitted softly, hesitating. “But we don’t know much about each other. This is probably just… some temporary holiday fling.”

“Is that what you think?” she asked, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Well, sometimes those ‘temporary’ things surprise you. It’s just nice to see you happy.”

Her words replayed in your head, even as the evening unfolded into more teasing, laughter, and the occasional stolen glances between you and Mark. It felt effortless, the way he was seamlessly pulled into your family’s fold—laughing with your cousins, charming your parents, and somehow always finding his way back to your side.

At one point, as you leaned against the porch railing, your gaze wandering to the clear night sky, Mark appeared at your side. His hand brushed yours before his fingers slipped between them, the motion casual but deliberate.

“Wanna get out of here?” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“And go where?” you asked, your voice just above a whisper.

“Anywhere,” he said with a crooked smile, hazy with the warmth of the evening—or maybe just you. “I just wanna be alone with you.”

You didn’t even have time to answer before Hendery, lounging on the couch nearby, cut in with exaggerated indignation. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he sighed.

“But now that it is happening, I guess all I can say is fuck you guys and please get out of my sight,” Hendery added, rolling his eyes. “You have no respect for the single loners hanging out with you, did you know that?”

You snickered. “This is why you bring your girlfriend home for the holidays, not a hot friend.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Hendery retorted, crossing his arms.

“And whose fault is that?” you teased with a grin.

Hendery shot you a pointed look. “Don’t act so smug. You’ve been a Christmas Grinch for years. I’m not taking any advice from you.”

“Fair,” you admitted with a shrug, wanting so much to keep taunting him but deciding against it because he was right.

Your cousin cut in from across the room. “Dery, when did you say you were leaving again?”

“Tomorrow morning,” he replied.

“Already?” you asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” he continued, his tone dripping with self-satisfaction. “We have a New Year event at uni. Mark’s needed for some important technical stuff. And me? Well, they need me for my invaluable presence.”

The chatter around you faded into the background as Mark tugged you closer. “You should come see it,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with intention.

You tilted your head, curious. “Is it fun?”

“I hope so,” he said with a small, crooked smile. “If it’s not, I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

You giggled when he kissed the side of your head. “How are you gonna do that?”

“Well, for starters…” He paused, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered in a voice full of promise, “I’ll take you somewhere private and show you a really good time.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Lame,” you quipped, pushing his face away.

Mark threw his head back laughing. “Okay. I’ll try to come up with something better.”

And just like that, the night became a blur of moments—each one filled with laughter, teasing, and kisses that were never fully explained, only given and received with a kind of sweetness that felt both comforting and thrilling.

It happened again. And again. The gentle pull of his lips on yours, the warmth of his touch, the way he always found a way to stand just a little too close. By the time the night had fully settled into the quiet of the late hours, the two of you were tangled up in your bedroom again, tipsy, comfortable, and perhaps a little too far gone to really care about the next morning.

The train ride back to the city was as mundane as ever, but there was a sense of excitement buzzing in the air this time around. You sat back comfortable, looking out the window at the snowy landscape that blurred past. The past few days felt like a dream, a Christmas full of laughter, teasing, and beautiful moments with Mark.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, pulling you from your thoughts.

Mark: See you Wednesday?

The holiday season had come to an end, but what you’d shared with Mark was just starting to unfold. There was something about it that felt like fate, or maybe just the simple truth that it was time for you to stop waiting for something that had no guarantee would ever happen.

You quickly typed your reply, your fingers moving almost instinctively.

You: Can’t wait.

When you hit send, you leaned back into the seat, letting the train’s rhythm settle the buzz in your busy mind. The thought of seeing him again made your chest tighten in the most pleasant way.

You couldn’t wait for Wednesday. For fuck’s sake, you couldn’t wait for the New Year.

[fin]

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bunnipuffs · 1 month ago

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hi! would you be interested in writing for mob boss!ellie and mobwife!reader ?

I’m imagining dark themes: toxic relationship, arguing, gun and knife kink, jealousy, hate sex

sfw and nsfw head canon or oneshot, whichever you choose :)

hiiii !!! omg this is the best prompt ever mmmm ... mob boss! ellie is so scrumptious ... tysm for this request and i am more than happy to write for it !! i'm gonna write for both sfw & nsfw since this prompt is so fun , i hope you enjoy anon and readers !!!!! <3333

꒰ cw. mean! ellie, mentions of violent imagery/murder, rough sex, gun play, strap use ꒱

⋆˙⟡ mob boss! ellie williams is infamous for her business handling all sorts of illegal activity. there isn’t much known about her besides her constant havoc on the government and the community… and well, of course, you. ellie's pretty little wife.

♡ . — ꒰ (kinda) sfw headcanon ꒱

mob boss! ellie who deals with what seems like hundreds of meetings everyday. she's sat at a dingy bar with her group, the lights above the cramped corner table constantly flickering. it's hard to see any of their faces, but they've been talking about a variety of drug-related business for hours now, something about a deadline coming up next week. you twirl a loose strand of hair around your fingers while you overhear something about the unfortunate pause in ellie's production. oh well, none of your business! you're sat on her lap all pretty, her tattooed arm holding your waist tightly. ellie had already told you off when you spoke out, trying to input your own solutions for their problem — this conversation wasn't for you, certainly not for you when you had no idea how difficult it was to run the business like ellie did. where do you think you got your favorite purse from? the queen sized bed ellie fucked you in? the big house that was all yours? ellie had produced enough money from her various drug distributions to cover hers, and your lifetime combined. while you were absolutely grateful for ellie's work, you two often fought about her loyal dedication to it. sure, you're ecstatic that you don't have to work as a hostess at a sketchy diner anymore, but you're her wife.

you hate to admit it, but you've also grown jealous of ellie's relationship with her business. it seemed like it was all she ever cared about recently. not to mention one of ellie's assistants that always stuck to her like a stupid dog. she had a nice face too, and you fucking hated her. every time you've brought up your issues with this girl, ellie brushes you off and tells you she's with you for a reason. you're never satisfied by this answer, but you seem to forget when she shuts you up with your favorite meals and a bouquet of flowers to match.

"i don't get why you're so pissy all the time els. i was just trying to help you, you seem like you need it." you're sitting on your shared bed pulling off heels from your feet, your ankles rubbed raw from following ellie around all day. the meeting was finally over, and you two had made it back home at midnight. she shrugs off her jacket, hanging it up in one of the three closets she had. she doesn't acknowledge you at first but soon she's standing right in front of you, her hand cupping your jaw tightly. you pout at her.

"if it weren't for me, you'd still be parading your ass for tips to make ends meet. i gave you this. not you, so don't piss me off with stupid shit you don't understand." ellie pushes your head away and takes off the rest of her clothes, slipping into the sheets behind you. you blink once, twice, before doing the same.

well. it's not like she'll leave you, she's killed for you before — sat a man down on your couch and made you watch. he had stupidly come up to ellie during a meeting and described how bad he wanted to put his dick in you, wondering how good you'd look crying around his cock. ellie didn't hesitate luring him into your home, telling him, "i know her personally, you wanna see for yourself?" yeah, bad fucking idea. ellie had poured a pot of boiling water on his head before pulling out her handgun, pressing it to the back of his head and pulling the trigger. it seemed like nothing happened the day after, a normal weekday for you and ellie. your carpets and floors were scrubbed clean, the couch that was covered in his blood now looked like you had just bought it. no sign of a man ever being in your home in the first place. you didn't mind it much, grabbing your box of cereal and having it on the very same piece of furniture where ellie blew a man's head out. ellie gripped your neck, the pressure making it hard to breathe. she's staring at you with an intensity that you can't describe, "don't say i don't ever do anything for you, got it?" and left for work that morning.

being ellie's wife was exhausting, but at least you were safe.

♡ . — ꒰ nsfw headcanon ꒱

mob boss! ellie likes to watch you writhe under her. on the off chance she's not on the phone with someone, she's deep inside of you with her strap — almost pressing against your cervix. sex with ellie is never slow, never filled with sweet kisses to your face or her hands tightly gripping your own. she likes it rough, hard. likes to see you push away from her in an attempt to escape the painful pleasure brewing inside of you. your stomach feels so full, your moans and whimpers mixing with ellie's grunts as she fucks into you like an animal. you know not to run from her, and you can't. she has you on your knees, arched and gripping the sheets under you so she can abuse your squelching hole. it's dripping down your thighs now, and ellie can't help but play with your ass while she has you like this. she likes to see you all stretched out around her strap, pushing back on it even though you complain that it's too much.

ellie's handgun lays next to her, unloaded, but you didn't know that. when you start mouthing off, whining about "els, please, it's too sensitive" or "stop, too much, no more.." she picks it up and pulls her strap out of you — the sudden emptiness leaving you gasping. she replaces the toy with the gun, pressing the barrel into your twitching hole. you turn to face her, "els! please, no-" before she starts thrusting it into you, in and out, the cold metal freezing against your hot skin. she pulls it out suddenly, a harsh laugh coming from her. she looks at her handgun, your slick dripping off of it.

"what? you're saying no now? thought you wanted my attention. i think you still do, baby, you made a mess of my gun." she scoffs before pushing it into your hole again, watching as your thighs shake at the stimulation. she fucks it into you over and over again until you're screaming her name, drool falling from your lips. you're collapsing around it, the unrelenting pace pushing you to your limit. you gush around her handgun as you come down from your high, falling to your side when ellie pulls it out of you.

you can't think, or breathe, not when ellie had just fucked the life out of you. your vision is blurry, you watch as your wife moves to sit next to you with her gun still in her hand. you feel something prodding at your lips, the now warm metal pressed against you. you can taste yourself, opening your mouth at the push — swirling your tongue along the barrel and taking it down your throat.

"bein' so nice and quiet when you get what you want, huh? that hard to listen to me without being a dumb whore?" she mutters, watching as you deep throat her gun. the sounds of your gagging turn her on even more, watching you struggle.

"you're lucky i still keep you around, you're pretty, too sweet for your own good. i could kill you right now, y'know? this gun is in your mouth... would be so easy," she continues on, using her free hand to rub at your swollen clit. you whimper at the thought, thighs pressing together. she could kill you. dispose of your body like she did with that man, but for some reason it makes you wetter. ellie notices, a knowing grin on her face.

"hmm... you're sick, baby. guess that's why i married you."

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #˚ෆ 🩰🦢 .° ༘

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gladoswantscake · 6 months ago

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Just a Scratch - Goro Majima x Reader

Summary: This wasn't the first time he came home in the middle of the night beaten up.

Warnings: Minor spoilers from Kiwami 1

Available on AO3

The outside of Kamurocho's bright neon city lights shined warmly through your bedroom curtains as you slept. Tonight was quiet. Too quiet and lonely. Tonight was one of those nights when you couldn't fall asleep. You roll over to stare at the empty spot on the other side of the bed; desolated and cold. It lacked your lover. Nighttime was when you longed for him the most. You only ever get to see him when he leaves for work and when he comes home at night. Going many hours each day without seeing him makes you yearn for his presence. A good day is when Majima comes home to you.

Of course, being a patriarch has more responsibilities and also requires him to attend to more important matters. He'd be lucky if he was able to come home before dusk. But that was rare.

You roll back over to your side to glance at the clock. Almost midnight. You'd only been in bed for nearly two hours and not a feeling of drowsiness hit you. At least he'll be home anytime now. You make an attempt to try to sleep.

Not even ten minutes in and the sound of three loud knocks erupts you from your sleep. The noise startles you as you sit up quickly, feeling your heart pacing rapidly. The continuous loud knocking begins to strike a nerve in you.

"Alright... Alright..." You shout as you sluggishly get out of bed.

You drag yourself to the front door, rubbing your face as you unlock the deadbolt and the knob. Upon opening the door stood Majima; beaten and bruised up.

What shocked you even more was his new attire: A dirty pink bodycon dress with torn fish net stockings, tousled blond wig, and press-on nails. The makeup was surprisingly well-kept on his face despite how badly wounded the rest of his body was.

You then remembered this morning before he left, he spoke to you about an idea he had in mind to lure Kiryu: If there was one thing that many men loved, it was women.

But you didn't expect Majima to come home dressed as a hostess.

"Sorry if I woke ya up. I lost my key."

You took no time to pulling him into your home. "What the hell happened to you this time?"

Majima follows you from behind, removing and tossing the pink high heels onto the floor at the front door in the process. A sly grin appears on his face. "I uh, got my butt beat again by Kiryu-chan." He follows you into the bathroom.

Ever since Kiryu got out of prison, Majima has been coming up with weird ideas.

Majima sits on the seat of the toilet. He watches as you dig through the cabinet searching for your medical supplies. It felt like a ritual to patch him up every time he came home injured. He never complained once about it. He secretly enjoyed being doctored up by you. Physical touch was a love language of his.

You set out bandages, rubbing alcohol, and pads on the sink then leaving in search for a bath towel in the bedroom.

"I thought Goromi would have been the perfect hostess to make him swoon." He removes the messy blond wig. "Almost had him too!"

"Maybe he's not into buff women." You shout from outside of your bedroom.

As Majima waits for your return, he begins to undress himself. The tight fabric of the dress was making it impossible for his fingertips to reach the zipper. Even trying to pull the dress downward didn't budge. "What a goddamn pain." He grumbles. "Who the hell makes these dresses where ya can't even get out of?!"

You quickly return to him, unzipping the dress for him revealing. Large bruises already forming on his bare back.

"Thank you, doll." He sighs in relief.

"This has to be the most uncomfortable thing I've ever worn." He removes the pink thong before wrapping a towel around his waist. "Do ya think pink looks good on me?" He jokes.

"I think it accentuates your figure." You glance up at him. A faint bruise was starting to appear on his jaw and a few scrapes scattered amongst his face.

"I'm sorry your idea didn't go as planned." You remove his eyepatch before getting started. Your hands cups both sides of his cheeks to examine the damage. You then reach for the gauze wipe then the alcohol. After lightly dousing the wipe, you cautiously dab his face.

"Ah, don't be sorry. I had fun." He winces at the feeling of the alcohol wipe stinging his cheek. "You should'ave seen Kiryu blushin'." He chuckles softly.

"So Goromi, huh?"

Majima laughs to himself. "Oh yeah. Now that you reminded me. I gotta a great story to tell ya."

After disposing the used gauze and band aids, you return to him to observe his beaten face. The condition was slight better than it was prior.

"I'm worried for you."

"How so?"

"I'm worried that one of these nights you won't come home."

"Aw Y/N-chan..." His voice trails. His hands roam up your waist. "Don't be havin' those thoughts, besides it feels like I only took a scratch." He gives you a reassuring smile.

"I get that you enjoy fighting, but there's only so many times you can do it before something bad happens to you."

Majima sighs. His hands move to your wrists, taking them in his hands. "Darlin' I've told you many times I can't quit. It ain't no easy job. Hell, I've been a yakuza my whole life and I'm still kicking."

Majima was extremely defensive when it came to you preaching concern about his brawling habits. There was no way he was backing down something that he enjoyed doing. But with what you said was true. All the times he got into conflict, the thought of him ending up dead never crossed his mind. He had gotten an earful from you when he came home from the hospital a couple of weeks ago when one of his subordinate's accidently stabbed him. He could see why an incident like that concerned you for his safety.

"I may have some cuts and bruises, but I'm still here. I ain't goin' nowhere. I promise."

"Promise?"

He pulls you into his lap. "As long as come home to see my Y/N-chan." His lips peck yours, leaving a faint lipstick stain on your lips.

Your hand runs through his messy undercut. "I'll be waiting for you in bed."

"You're not gonna join me?" He whines. "I haven't seen my Y/N-chan all day."

You took your time contemplating the idea.

"At least let me return you the favor." He purrs. "I gotta show how much I appreciate all that you've done for me."

#yakuza #ryu ga gotoku #yakuza kiwami #yakuza oneshots #yakuza x reader #goro majima #goro majima x reader #majima goro #majima goro x reader #my creation

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the-tardis-is-blue · 16 days ago

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It is late and I have Thoughts about The Well

Something I thought was interesting about the Midnight Entity in this episode was that the two main people it latched onto (Aliss and Belinda) had one thing in common: both of them wanted to go home. We know (since it knows the Doctor's name) that it's got some kind of telepathic powers, so it would definitely be able to tell a person's motivations, and both Aliss and Belinda wanted something that was beneficial to it (breaching containment, essentially). In fact, it's possible that the only reason the Entity wanted to leave Midnight in the first place was because of Aliss!

The Entity's primary motivation in Midnight seemed to be discovery. It copied the people in the bus and then, once it had learned enough about their behaviour, moved on to controlling them, whether telepathically or through verbal manipulation. It started pushing their boundaries - emotionally, logically, even telepathically in the Doctor's case (it knowing his name means it was presumably rooting around in his mind, possibly because it was curious about the Doctor's mysteriousness, especially because it seemed to distress the other passengers that he was lying to them). And what it saw was that almost all of the people in that bus - pretty small sample size, but what's an Entity to do - eventually decided on killing as a solution: at first the Doctor, but then the hostess threw it (in the body of Skye) out of the bus.

I don't think that motivation has changed at all by the time we get to The Well. It's still investigating that human (or not, as the case may be) instinct to lash out at things that are frightening, especially the unknown. Why else would it jump between murderers? Maybe it's trying to understand what drives a person to that point, how bad things have to get before somebody will resort to killing.

(I saw somebody point out that the way it throws its victims in the air is very similar to the way the hostess threw it out of the bus, which is really interesting! It's not only learning, but it's also applying what it's learned to its next big experiment.)

So then it ends up with the last person alive: Aliss, who shot presumably once in fear and then at least once again in self-defence. But Aliss has something else driving her other than her fear: her daughter. She doesn't want to kill anybody - all she wants is to get out of here so that she can go home to her daughter.

Through her, the Entity learns about something other than fear, and wants to get a taste of it. So from that point onwards, the goal isn't to investigate people: the goal is to get off Midnight and see what's out there that's so incredible it would drive Aliss to murder to be able to experience again.

Which is why it then picks Belinda. Belinda's not a killer - she's the opposite, she's a medic - but the one thing she most desperately wants is out. Even more than Aliss, even more than the Doctor (whose primary aim was to save Aliss and catch a glimpse of the Entity), Belinda wants to go home.

(Side note, that's possibly why the Entity didn't jump to the Doctor when he offered? The Doctor doesn't have particularly clear motivations. He's said before that the reason he needs companions is so that he can continue to see the universe is through their eyes, or else it'd start to feel boring and stagnant. Through the Doctor's eyes, the Entity would get to see the universe, but it wouldn't see how it motivates people, how it's so incredible and brand-new and exciting.

Alternatively, the Entity has already possessed the Doctor! It already knows everything it could want to know about him. He's just not interesting anymore.)

And of course, it does in fact get off the planet. Maybe not the way it originally planned, but it does accomplish its goal.

Which makes me a little worried as to what aspect of human[oid] nature it will investigate next.

#doctor who #the well #musings #doctor who spoilers #dw spoilers #my posts

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player279achlys · 4 months ago

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The golden rabbit's legacy (Hwang In-Ho/Frontman x fem! reader!)

Il-nam's granddaughter will prove herself worthy of being the next hostess, while someone becomes her loyal shadow.

CHAPTER II: midnight's surprise

Previous chapter: Chapter I

Next chapter: Chapter III

Pairing: Hwang In-Ho/Frontman x Original!female!Character

Word count: 1,8k words.

Summary: In the shadow of her grandfather’s dark empire, Melinoe, a brilliant young woman in her early twenties, steps into a world of blood, betrayal, and power she was never meant to inherit. As the granddaughter of the infamous Oh Il-Nam, creator of the deadly Squid Games, she is thrust into a brutal legacy that demands she not only survive but thrive as its new hostess. Determined to honor her family’s name and prove herself worthy of the golden rabbit mask, she designs games more cunning and lethal than any before.

But power comes at a cost. Beneath her calculated exterior lies a woman haunted by guilt, trauma, and the faces of those she has condemned to die. And at her side stands Hwang In-Ho, the enigmatic Front Man—older than her, cold, and feared by all, except for her. Since the day he learned of her existence, In-Ho has been deeply, obsessively in love with Melinoe. His devotion is as intense as it is toxic, a tangled mix of desire and protectiveness that pushes him to control every aspect of her life.

As Melinoe rises to prominence, she finds herself navigating not only the deadly games but also the dangerous allure of In-Ho. Their relationship is a powder keg of suppressed emotions, forbidden passion, and fraught power dynamics. He would destroy anyone who comes close to her—including a charming, younger VIP who flirts with her one too many times. Yet, while In-Ho dreams of keeping her safe in his arms, Melinoe dreams of reshaping the games into something darker and more just—her own twisted vision of justice against the world’s worst offenders.

When the 33rd Squid Games begin, everything changes. With her grandfather entering the arena as Player 001 and Gi-Hun as Player 456, the games take on unprecedented stakes. As alliances crumble and bodies fall, Melinoe must contend with the weight of her grandfather’s legacy, the manipulations of the VIPs, and the unrelenting obsession of the man who would burn the world for her.

In this slow-burn enemies-to-lovers romance, “The golden rabbit’s legacy” explores themes of obsession, power, betrayal, and the lengths people will go to protect the ones they love. Juxtaposing the dazzling opulence of the VIPs with the desperate brutality of the games, it tells the story of a woman fighting for control in a world that threatens to consume her—and the man willing to do anything to keep her.

Will Melinoe rise as the queen of the games, or will the bonds of obsession and love be the end of her?

Warnings: MDNI!!!, Afab!, angst. Sexual language. Fear of losing someone. Smut (light kinda), grumpy x sunshine, dark romance, age gap, possessive, obsessed, paranoid and dominant In-Ho, daddy issues, yandere behaviour, jealousy, violence, murder, typical squid game stuff.

English isn’t my first language, if there are any mistakes, please forgive me. :)

The room felt smaller now, the space between them shrinking with every second. In-Ho’s hand lingered on Melinoe’s cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin with a tenderness that contradicted the chaos roiling inside him. Her gaze searched his, her hazel-amber eyes shimmering with an emotion he couldn’t quite name—but it was enough to undo him.

“You’re trembling,” she whispered, her voice so soft it felt like a caress.

“I’ve been trembling since the moment I met you,” he admitted, his voice raw. His hand slipped to her jaw, tilting her face up to his as he leaned closer. “You make me weak.”

Her lips parted slightly, her breath hitching as his words hung in the air. He could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest, feel the faint warmth of her breath against his skin. Her vulnerability, her strength—they were a siren’s call, and he was helpless to resist.

“In-Ho…” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Whatever restraint he had left shattered at the sound of his name on her lips. He took off his mask just enough to expose his lips and closed the distance between them, capturing her mouth in a kiss that was equal parts desperation and devotion. It was a collision of longing and need, years of buried emotions spilling out in an instant.

Her hands found his shoulders, gripping him for balance as he deepened the kiss. He tasted the sweetness of her lips, felt the softness of her body pressed against his, and it sent a jolt of electricity through him. He wanted more—needed more.

Without breaking the kiss, he lifted her from the chair, his hands gripping her hips as though she might disappear if he let go. She gasped against his mouth, her arms looping around his neck as he carried her to the bed.

When he laid her down, he paused, his dark eyes drinking in the sight of her. Her hair fanned out across the pillow, her lips swollen from his kiss, her skin glowing under the soft light. She was a vision, and for a moment, he couldn’t believe she was real.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with reverence. His gloved hand traced the curve of her cheek, down to her jaw, then lower, to the delicate hollow of her throat. “You’re everything.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she reached up to tug at the mask he wore. “I want to see you,” she said softly, her fingers hesitating just beneath the edge.

For a moment, he froze. The mask was his armor, the thing that kept the world at bay. But as he looked into her eyes, he realized he didn’t need it—not with her. Slowly, he removed it, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud.

Her breath caught as she took him in, her fingers brushing against his face. “In-Ho,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “You’re…”

“Yours,” he finished, his lips curving into a rare, small smile. “I’m yours.”

Her hands moved to his chest, unbuttoning his jacket and slipping it from his shoulders. He followed her lead, removing the layers of his uniform until there was nothing between them but skin. His hands roamed over her body with reverence, memorizing every curve, every dip, every scar.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his lips trailing down her neck to her collarbone. “Every inch of you.”

She shivered beneath his touch, her body arching toward him as he explored her with a mix of tenderness and hunger. His lips pressed against her skin, leaving a trail of kisses that made her gasp and writhe beneath him.

“In-Ho, please,” she whispered, her voice heavy with need.

He stilled for a moment, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “Tell me you want this,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” she replied without hesitation, her hands tangling in his hair.

That was all he needed. He claimed her again, his kisses growing more fervent as his hands slid down her body. He worshiped her with every touch, every kiss, every whispered word of praise.

In-Ho’s mouth traveled lower, his lips brushing against her thighs, his touch reverent and filled with devotion. He took his time, savoring the taste of her, the way she trembled beneath him, the soft moans that spilled from her lips. She was his—completely, utterly his—and he wanted her to feel it in every fiber of her being.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured against her skin, his voice husky with desire. “So perfect for me.”

Her hands gripped the sheets as she gasped, her body arching toward him. He didn’t relent, his mouth and hands working in unison to bring her to the edge. When she cried out his name, her voice filled with pleasure, it sent a surge of pride through him.

He moved back up to capture her lips in a kiss, his body aligning with hers. He entered her slowly, carefully, his forehead pressing against hers as he whispered her name like a prayer. The connection between them was electric, a mix of passion and emotion that left them both breathless.

“You’re mine,” he said again, his voice low and possessive. “And I’m yours.”

They moved together, their bodies perfectly in sync as they gave in to the need that had been building between them for what felt like so long. He worshiped her with every touch, every kiss, every whispered word of love and devotion. She was his anchor, his salvation, and he would do anything to keep her safe.

When they finally collapsed together, their bodies tangled and their breaths mingling, he held her close, his arms wrapping around her protectively. For the first time in years, he felt at peace. She was here, in his arms, where she belonged.

In-Ho awoke to the soft rustle of sheets and the faint scent of lavender still lingering in the air. His arms instinctively tightened around her, the warmth of her body pressed against his a grounding comfort. For the first time in years, his sleep had been untroubled, his mind unburdened by the ghosts of the games. Melinoe had banished them all with her presence.

But when his eyes fluttered open, his chest tightened. The bed beside him was empty.

“Melinoe?” His voice was hoarse, rough with sleep and a trace of panic.

The door to her quarters was ajar, the faint sound of guards patrolling the hallway drifting in. She was gone, and though he knew she was likely safe, the gnawing fear of losing her again began to creep in. In-Ho sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair before burying his face in his palms.

How could I let her leave?

The memories of the night before replayed in his mind with vivid clarity—the way she had looked at him, the way she had whispered his name, the way she had melted beneath his touch. He had given her everything, yet now the cold emptiness of the room threatened to swallow him whole.

Melinoe stood in the bunkroom, the oppressive atmosphere of the games pressing down on her like a physical weight. The other players were subdued after the horrors of the first game and the first night there, their faces etched with fear and exhaustion. She felt their stares, though she wasn’t sure if they were scrutinizing her or simply searching for someone to share in their despair.

Her mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. The night she had shared with In-Ho had been… unexpected. She had seen a side of him that no one else had—a man burdened by duty, yet capable of a love so fierce it both frightened and intrigued her. And yet, she couldn’t allow herself to be consumed by him. Not now. Not here.

If she was going to survive this, she needed to focus.

“Eun-Seol,” a familiar voice called out, pulling her from her thoughts.

She turned to see Player 077—Wol-Jin—approaching her with a cautious smile. His dark eyes held a mix of curiosity and admiration, though there was an underlying tension in his expression. She forced a smile, hoping to deflect any suspicion.

“Good morning, Wol-Jin,” she replied, her tone even.

“You’re holding up better than most,” he remarked, his gaze sweeping over her. “It’s impressive.”

“I’m good at compartmentalizing,” she said with a small shrug, her eyes drifting to the guards stationed at the far end of the hall. She knew one of them would report her movements back to In-Ho. It made her skin prickle with unease.

Wol-Jin stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Listen, I know this is crazy to even say in a place like this, but… you’re different. You’ve got this calm strength about you. It’s inspiring.”

Melinoe met his gaze, her expression softening despite herself. “Wol-Jin…”

“I just want you to know,” he continued, his tone earnest, “if we get through this, I’d like to see you again. Outside of all this madness.”

Her stomach twisted uncomfortably, and not just because of his words. She could feel the weight of unseen eyes on her, the knowledge that In-Ho was likely watching their exchange sending a shiver down her spine. She needed to put an end to this, for Wol-Jin’s sake as much as her own.

“I appreciate that,” she said gently, “but I already have someone waiting for me. Someone who means… everything.”

Wol-Jin’s expression faltered, disappointment flickering across his face. “I understand,” he said after a moment, his voice tinged with resignation. “But if things ever change…”

“They won’t,” she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

“She’s lying,” he muttered to himself, his voice a low growl. “She’s protecting him.”

He paced the room like a caged predator, his mind racing with dark thoughts. The scotch bottle sat on the desk, its contents already half gone, though it did little to soothe the fire burning in his veins. He replayed the conversation in his head, dissecting every word, every expression. She had chosen him last night—she had said she was his. So why was she entertaining that boy?

“You’ll regret this, Wol-Jin,” he muttered, his voice venomous. “I’ll make sure of it.”

He wanted to act, to send the guards to drag the boy away and eliminate him on the spot. But he knew he couldn’t—not yet. Melinoe would see through it, and the fragile trust they had built would shatter.

For now, he would wait. But when the time came, Wol-Jin would pay for daring to stand too close to her.

How was chapter II my babes??? Did y'all like it?? I hope you did, I'm not an expert writing, let alone writing smut... But In-Ho just... makes us wild, doesn't he?

Do y’all want me to make a taglist or am I getting too excited too soon?

Also, while I write or read a fanfic I listen to this playlist, in case y'all wanna check it out! <3

Loves you, Achlys.

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joaosnovia · 3 months ago

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Hey! I've been thinking about this for so long, but I'm not the best person to write it. Your writing is honestly amazing, I love everything you write. ❤️

It's with Kenan, where the reader had a reservation at a restaurant, but when she arrived, it seemed like the place was completely full, and there was no table available for her reservation (she was going with a friend). On the same day, Kenan had also reserved a table with his friends. When a table finally becomes available, there's a mix-up, and the staff mistakenly assumes that the reader and Kenan are a couple.

❦ - table for 2.

summary:: you and your bestfriend book a reservation at a very high end restaurant which happens to be quite full. in the end your bestfriend leaves you for a pizza place leaving you w kenan but who knew what it would lead to.

warnings:: quite fast paced && idek if it makes sense bc i finished writing this at like 2am

writers note:: idek atp like this fic was lowkey rushed but i think it sounds good! also i love how kenan girls are requesting fics from me now i love writing for him!

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp ; lmk if u wanna be added or removed!

it was supposed to be a simple night out with a friend. you’d made the reservation two weeks in advance at the new restaurant everyone was raving about. but standing by the entrance, you knew something was off. the lobby was packed, people shifting on their feet, checking their phones, glancing toward the hostess stand.

'hi, i had a reservation for two?' you asked. your friend beside you sighed, already imagining takeout.

the hostess scanned the list, frowning. 'we’re a bit behind. a table should open soon, but… it might be a while.'

just then, a voice beside you said, 'same boat?' you turned to see a man, tall, casually dressed, a charmingly crooked smile on his face.

'yeah,' you muttered. 'reservations apparently mean nothing.'

'kenan,' he offered, sticking out a hand. you shook it, introducing yourself.

before you could say more, the hostess called, 'table for two?' both you and kenan stepped forward. awkward pause. 'oh… there's just one table left,' she said, flustered.

kenan glanced at you. 'wanna share? i’m starving.'

your stomach answered before you could. 'sure. but i’m not sharing fries.'

you laughed over menus and drinks. kenan joked about restaurant chaos, you told a story about a disastrous brunch, and conversation flowed. dessert appeared without anyone ordering it, “chef’s treat," the server winked. then came the bill, with "couple’s night discount" scrawled on it.

'we’re not…’ you started.

'thanks, we’ll take it,' kenan grinned.

outside, the cool night air wrapped around you. 'weird night,' you said.

'but fun, right?' kenan asked. 'drink next door? keep the randomness going?'

hesitation flickered, but then you smiled. 'why not?'

the bar next door was cozy, lit with soft amber lights. kenan ordered two drinks, bright, suspicious-looking things. 'trust me,' he said.

'questionable choices already,' you teased. but the first sip was surprisingly good.

banter turned to stories, childhood pranks, travel mishaps. someone started a darts game. kenan’s eyes lit up. 'you in?'

'only if you’re ready to lose.'

the game was close, playful insults flying. you won by a sliver. 'pay up,' you smirked.

'rigged,' kenan grumbled, handing over the promised drink. by midnight, you were laughing over karaoke sign ups, belting out terrible renditions of classic songs. when you stumbled out into the night, your cheeks hurt from smiling.

'best worst idea,' you said.

'glad you didn’t bail,' kenan replied. his gaze lingered, a spark of something there, but he didn’t push. 'see you around?'

'yeah,' you said. 'see you.'

texts followed. casual. easy. "darts rematch?" "only if you’re ready to lose worse." nights blurred into late conversations, drinks, inside jokes. one evening, kenan said, 'there’s this street fair tomorrow. you in?'

'aren’t we seeing too much of each other?' you teased.

'guess you’ll have to deal with it.'

the fair was chaotic and colorful. kenan insisted on winning you a ridiculous plush toy, failed three times, finally succeeding with a triumphant cheer. 'worth the humiliation,' he grinned.

you spent the day weaving through stalls, eating questionable fried foods, sharing stories you hadn’t planned to tell. by sunset, standing under string lights, kenan brushed a stray hair from your face. 'this okay?' he asked.

part of you wanted to deflect. joke. but instead, you nodded. 'yeah.'

he kissed you. warm, a little tentative. your hands found his jacket, pulling him closer. when you parted, he rested his forehead against yours. 'been wanting to do that,' he murmured.

'figured,' you whispered back.

things shifted after that, but not in a bad way. coffee dates, movie nights, shared glances that said more than words could. kenan had a habit of stealing your fries; you had a habit of pretending to be mad. weekends became a blur of spontaneous plans, hiking trails, lazy mornings, dancing in your living room to terrible playlists.

one evening, curled up on his couch, kenan asked, 'so... what are we?' his tone was light, but his gaze searched yours.

'you’re really gonna be that guy?' you teased.

'just... wanna know where we stand,' he said, softer.

'we’re... this,' you said, gesturing between you. 'whatever this is, it’s good.'

he smiled, pulling you closer. 'yeah. it is.'

days turned into weeks. it wasn’t perfect, kenan forgot plans once, you snapped during a stressful week; but apologies came easy, laughter always returned. you met his friends; they teased him mercilessly. he met yours; they warned him not to screw it up.

one lazy sunday morning, tangled in blankets, kenan murmured, 'funny how a restaurant screw up started this.'

'best mix up ever,' you said, tracing patterns on his chest.

he caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. 'glad you didn’t walk away that night.'

'glad you asked me to share a table.'

he grinned. 'felt like fate.'

'maybe it was.'

a month later, it felt like you’d known him longer. date nights became routine, but never boring. kenan found ways to surprise you: a picnic under city lights, tickets to that band you offhandedly mentioned liking. you, in turn, found yourself thinking of him in quiet moments, buying his favorite snacks, sending him memes that made you laugh.

one evening, after a dinner that involved too much wine and a dessert neither of you needed, you found yourselves on your couch. kenan played with the hem of your shirt, gaze thoughtful. 'so... think we’re officially a thing?' he asked.

you smirked. 'been acting like it.'

'yeah, but, labels and all that.'

you kissed him, slow and lingering. 'yeah, kenan. we’re a thing.'

his grin was immediate, infectious. 'good. wasn’t planning on letting you go anyway.'

'better not,' you teased.

later, as you drifted off with your head on his chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back, you thought about that first night, the chaos, the awkwardness, the unexpected twist. funny how life worked. how one mix-up led to this.

and god, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

#football x reader #football one shot #football fluff #football x y/n #football x you #kenan yildiz x y/n #kenan yildiz x you #kenan yildiz x reader

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kmomof4 · 1 month ago

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A Wedding to Remember Ch. 2 Like Lightning from Heaven

We are back! Sorry it's so late in the day, but adulting had to come first unfortunately and I've only just finished. Tonights ch is VERY short, less than 1300 words, so I'll post Wednesday's ch tomorrow night before I go to bed. Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!!

Summary: Killian Jones, younger brother to the viscount, is home from Cambridge and ready to enter society, including finding himself a wife. Perhaps he may find his future bride here, at a weeklong house party his sister-in-law is hosting at the Jones country estate before the London season officially begins.

Rating: M (smut)

Words: Almost 1300 of approximately 16k

Tags: Bridgerton Inspired Fic, Matchmaking, Regency Romance

On ao3 From Beginning / Current Chapter

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615

@donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells @djlbg

@lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @anmylica

@laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling @caught-in-the-filter

@ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie

@soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic

@elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones @mie779 @kymbersmith-90

@suwya @veryverynotgoodwrites @myfearless-love

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Ch. 2 Like Lightning From Heaven

Lady Emma Nolan had to fight to keep from rolling her eyes as she could all but see hearts suddenly appear in the gaze of Mr. Killian Jones, brother-in-law to their hostess, Viscountess Elsa Jones, when he kissed Mary Margaret’s hand.

It was no more or less than she was used to, but it had been lovely to simply converse with another lady without having to endure the fawning attentions of the masculine sect upon her constant companion and dearest friend.

Emma and Mary Margaret had been the closest of friends since they’d met at Miss Moss’s School for Exceptional Young Ladies three years prior. And it wasn’t until she’d accompanied Mary Margaret to her home in Kent for a summer visit when it became abundantly clear to her that Mary Margaret was a MOST Exceptional Young Lady indeed.

With her petite frame, black as midnight hair, green eyes, pale skin, round face, pert nose, and rosebud lips, she was an exceptional specimen of feminine beauty. Emma already knew that, of course, and while Mary Margaret herself never once made her feel less feminine or less attractive than herself, the young men who surrounded them whenever they ventured out accomplished that task most assuredly and decisively.

If Mary Margaret had not also been the sweetest, kindest, and most tender-hearted person on the planet, she would have been absolutely insufferable.

But as it was, Mary Margaret was the most amiable, good-natured, and pleasing person to be around. She never sought attention for herself and was always seeking ways to bring Emma into the spotlight of male attention wherever they went. And as they never went anywhere without the other, Emma had become quite accustomed to the besotted countenances that followed Mary Margaret constantly.

Emma knew that she wasn’t objectively unattractive on her own, but when compared to Mary Margaret, she never had and never would garner a second look.

And Mr. Killian Jones wasn’t any different.

Oh, he was very handsome, to be sure, well spoken, and charming as well, as evidenced by the conversation now flowing around her that he had no trouble joining. Suddenly the viscount appeared and stole their hostess away for a dance, leaving Emma and Mary Margaret in the company of the devastatingly handsome Mr. Killian Jones. That was enough to finally draw Emma out of her musings and focus her attention on the latest of a long line of suitors that fancied themselves in love with her closest friend.

They watched the couples on the dance floor twirl and whirl to the music. Emma fully expected Mr. Jones to ask Mary Margaret for a dance, so she was stunned when he spoke to them both instead.

“Do either of you ladies believe in love at first sight?” he asked.

His gaze was far away and wistful, and it wasn’t difficult to see exactly who he was thinking about when he uttered the contemplative words.

Emma was still recovering from her shock, so Mary Margaret jumped in.

“Oh, yes, Mr. Jones,” Mary Margaret gushed. “I do.”

Both of their gazes snapped over to her - Killian’s face delighted, Emma’s in even further shock that Mary Margaret would mention her infatuation to anyone besides her. “When I first saw my love, I knew he was the one for me.” Now her gaze turned dreamy and far away, and Emma had to fight not to roll her eyes. “I was coming into my father’s office and there he was, his back toward me, but something just came over me and I knew. When we were introduced, I thought I would drown in his steel blue eyes. Of course, in front of my father, he couldn’t show his interest overtly, but I knew.”

“I see,” Killian said, tightly. Emma sighed, almost feeling sorry for him. They watched the dancers for a few moments more, Emma’s double surprise finally abating, when Killian turned to her and sent her, metaphorically, flat on her back in utter astonishment. “May I request the honor of a dance, Miss Nolan?” he asked, holding out his hand to her.

She was too bewildered to speak and found her hand, quite independent of any conscious thought on her part, placing itself in his. Once they were on the floor, it took a few moments more to get her thundering heartbeat under control. Emma was under no illusions that Mr. Jones was even remotely interested in her. He was simply trying to assuage the longing and devastation in his heart at Mary Margaret’s assertion that her affections were already laid elsewhere.

His efforts to hide the true feelings in his heart were admirable, but the stiffness of his shoulders, the diminished sparkle in his azure gaze, and tightness around his lips betrayed him. She may not know him very well at all, but his comportment as a gentleman - his charm and manners, engaging Emma in conversation and not ignoring her in order to focus all his attention to the object of his desire - told her that of all the men who’d attempted to woo Mary Margaret, Mr. Killian Jones was far and away the one who was most worthy of her heart.

A plan was forming in Emma’s mind. A plan that she’d need to implement posthaste if there was any hope to dissuade Mary Margaret from pursuing her vain hope that would lead to her utter ruin.

“You mustn’t be discouraged, Mr. Jones,” she finally blurted out.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“About Mary Margaret,” she continued urgently. “I know you fancy her, and I want to encourage you not to give up hope.”

His face blanched in apparent embarrassment, and he stumbled over his next words. “I - I a-assure you, milady…”

“But there’s no time for embarrassment or apologies, Mr. Jones,” she interrupted. “We must speak about what to do about it. Mary Margaret believes herself in love with her father’s secretary, Jefferson Hatter.”

Mr. Jones’s eyebrows nearly hit his hairline in surprise.

“Oh…” Killian had never in his life been at such a loss for words, but his shock at Lady Emma’s statement was such that he could utter nothing else.

As they continued their dance, she whispered conspiratorially, “I don’t believe we have to speak of the unsuitability of that match.”

“Of course not,” he murmured.

“Her parents would never allow it,” Lady Emma continued, “and if some madness overtook Mary Margaret completely and she married him anyway, they’d disown her immediately. I tell you all this because of all the men who’ve sought her attention, you are the one who is most worthy of her heart.”

Killian was speechless at Lady Emma’s declaration and raised his finger to her cheek when her eyes filled and a single tear spilled over her eyelid.

“Mary Margaret is the sister of my heart,” she continued on a hitched breath, “the sister I never had, and I want what is best for her. She cannot marry Jefferson, and so I propose that I help you win her heart. No one knows her better than I do, and I am uniquely qualified and positioned to help you. What say you?”

“I would be eternally grateful for any and all assistance you’d be willing to offer, milady,” he said, sincerely.

“Very well, then,” she agreed as the dance came to an end. “Let the wooing of Mary Margaret Blanchard commence!”

The sly smile on the face of Miss Nolan pulled his own smile to his lips and Killian felt his heart soar that hope was not lost to win the woman of his dreams.

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and sharing! I'd love to hear what you think! I'll post the next chapter before I go to bed tomorrow night.

#a wedding to remember #krystal writes #gregory bridgerton inspired fic

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transgenderchainsawman · 16 days ago

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Okay I’m going to talk about The Well because I’m autistic and have a lot to say

Midnight sequel. I lowkey always wanted one but also knew at the same time it would never properly do it justice. I believe I was right but that doesn’t mean I didn’t smile with nostalgia when they said the planet used to be made of diamonds.

At first I thought it might be referencing The Satan Pit (the huge hole in the ground, people going mad, it had to have been at least a callback). But that twist was nice. The acting was great from Ncuti like always, he did an amazing impression of David Tennant in Midnight, he captured it perfectly.

However.

Why.

I sorta get why, like it’s supposed to be unknown to the audience and the fact that it said his name is a WOAH thing and that it knows way too much so we can’t hear it but I felt like it was shocking the doctor for the sake of shocking the doctor, as a narrative point of view. I don’t know, that might grow on me eventually

The spacesuits really confused me lmao. Idk if I missed anything but the doctor and Belinda immediately having the exact right spacesuits they needed from the Tardis’s dressing room was strange. But hey it’s doctor who I don’t care that much, I’m here to be entertained not to understand things

Rose was great in my opinion (I’ve always liked her acting) and I’m glad she got to shine on doctor who. Not much to say about that apart from I’m glad there’s more deaf rep on tv, it’s very close to my heart

Belinda is an icon and I love her. The fact that she made a visual cue for the how the midnight entity was working made me piss myself. It thought it might add more but it was like Mr Maker explaining it. It was stupid and I love stupid. Probably not meant to be stupid but idc. Also.

POOR BELINDA!! GIRL JUST WANTS TO GET HOME AND SHE DIED???? Yeah she got brought back but fucking hell she got shot and died. She had an entity whispering in her ear and was sure she was gonna die and then she died!! Traumatising

Ok the sacrifice.

I won’t lie, I can’t remember the names of the side characters but that’s probably because I was sleep deprived and I have an awful memory. But I loved the parallel of the woman sacrificing herself at the end compared to the hostess with no name. We get this woman’s full name and her back story, we know who she is and we know her motivations and we even see a flashback of her as a kid. This contrasted with the hostess nobody knew anything about, even her name, was great for me. It was heartbreaking that she died but she died being known. I don’t have a reason why I liked it but I did.

The episode reminded me of The Satan Pit from the start and even a little of Oxygen but idk why. It also reminded me of The Doctor’s Daughter but I can’t remember why.

But yeah I actually liked it. Sure it’s never gonna live up to Midnight but I enjoyed watching it and I’d watch it again. I might watch it tonight to see what i missed the first time

Also very excited to see Ruby next episode and what slightly, to my sleep deprived mind, looked like the Dot and Bubble monsters? (Not the racists, the slugs)

OH YEAH FORGOT TO SAY, I LOVE THE CALLBACK OF TURN LEFT WITH THERES SOMETHING ON YOUR BACK I KEPT THINKING IT THROUGHOUT THE EPISODE

#doctor who #doctor who spoilers #spoilers #shhh spoilers #doctor who season 2 #ncuti gatwa #the 15th doctor #doctor who the well #i have a lot to say about the episode #and I’ve said it #just what I think #I’ve probably missed a load of shit and haven’t grasped the episode perfectly but I’ll rewatch it #I’m not perfect lol

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trulybetty · 1 year ago

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dec' x 27 - reunions

Prompt: reunions Pairing: sequins!joel x reader Word Count: 1,129 Warnings: none, just some fluff, maybe a hint of angst? Summary: Joel making the trek through arrivals to come see you (running out of steam, this is the most descriptive it's going to get lol). AO3: Linked

x. masterlist

Joel grumbled to himself as his boots echoed dully off of the plane and onto the boarding bridge, giving the air hostess a silent nod of thanks. Hitching his carry-on higher up onto his shoulder, he stifled a yawn. The plane had left Austin late at gone seven earlier that evening, but with an hour layover in Dallas and the time change, it was now gone midnight. It’d already been a gruelling day, and this late-night flight on top of it making the last five hours feel twice as long, had him wrestling with doubts if the strain of whatever this long-distance thing between you was sustainable.

He was already on a tight schedule, one that the unplanned layover had already eaten into. The downside of picking a flight based on its price as opposed to its convenience. He had less than 48 hours before he had to be back in Austin to pick up Sarah from her mother's. The switch of weekends wasn’t as easy to negotiate with his ex as it had been with Sarah, which further added to the pressure of knowing that every minute away counted.

So with his carry-on on his shoulder, he was grateful waiting for luggage wouldn’t be another delay as he watched weary travellers heading to an empty carousel to wait for their belongings to come through.

As he walked through the quiet terminal, the echo of the handful of passengers he’d departed with bounced off the walls reminding him of the early hour of the morning. The glare of the artificial light bouncing off of the polished concrete was starting to irritate the headache that was starting to nascent.

There were so many of these precious moments snatched between both of your schedules, the odd weekend here, maybe a week squeaked in but the other would be working. He pulled his cap down a little further on his head and tried to ignore the list of things he had to do in the small window when he returned home, and that was before the week could even begin. On top of that, Christmas was fast approaching and it was his ex’s turn to have Sarah, so she already had a small list of things she wanted to do with both him and Tommy that made him more tired to think about. He couldn’t help but wonder if all this effort was worth it. Was all of this enough to sustain whatever it was between the two of you?

Following the signs for arrivals, Joel tried to focus on getting through to the other side and the prospect of a warm bed and sleep. He stopped only momentarily to awkwardly take a picture on his phone of the artwork that took up centre stage between the shuttered stores and the brief formality of making his arrival in the state official.

And then, as he stepped through the sliding doors into the arrivals area, there you were. Despite it being gone one am at that point, the harsh fluorescent lights of the nearly empty airport couldn't dim your smile the moment you laid eyes on him. It was also then that he noticed the homemade sign you were holding, his name scrawled across it in bold letters. The modpodge of glitter and stickers, and enough experience with artwork from Sarah, told him that perhaps you’d had help putting it together from smaller hands. But, somehow, that simple piece of cardboard in your hands made his heart swell.

The sight of you, so alert and eagerly waiting just for him, dissolved all of his lingering uncertainties. The list of reasons he had mentally compiled about why this relationship might be too challenging, too demanding, too impractical, all just faded into insignificance.

Forgotten.

You were there, with sleepy yet shining eyes and a smile that could light up the darkest night, making every cramped flight and travel nuisances feel utterly trivial.

With every step he took towards you, Joel's pace quickened, fueled by the realization that, yes, it was all worth it. Every precious minute he got to spend in your presence was invaluable, no matter how quickly time might slip away. The weariness that had been weighing on his body seemed to evaporate, replaced by a surge of adrenaline at the thought of the limited but incredibly meaningful time you were about to share.

When he finally reached you, words became superfluous. He simply wrapped you in his arms, the sign crumpling between you, and his kiss conveyed everything in the quiet of the airport. This moment, this connection, answered all his questions and dispelled every doubt. This feeling, being here with you, was what validated every mile traveled and every hour spent in the air. It was undeniably, irrevocably worth it.

In the embrace, you both stood, the rest of the world momentarily forgotten. You could feel the steady beat of his heart against yours, a rhythm that seemed to sync with your own. The exhaustion on his face was evident, yet there was an undeniable spark in his eyes.

“You look tired,” you whispered, your voice a soft murmur in the vastness of the empty terminal.

Joel chuckled lightly, his breath warm against your ear. “Worth it, though,” he replied, tightening his hold.

In the embrace, you both stood silent for a moment, the world around you melting into a quiet backdrop. It was in these quiet hours, in the stillness of an almost empty airport, where the reality of your relationship truly sunk in. It wasn't just about overcoming the challenges of distance and time; it was about something deeper, something neither of you had fully experienced before, even in your past relationships.

“I missed you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Joel pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours in the dim airport light. “Missed you,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion.

It was a significant acknowledgment, considering his past with Sarah's mother and your history with your ex. This was all brand new territory for you both.

“It's worth it, though, right?” you asked, your voice laced with a mix of nervousness and excitement.

Joel's response was a smile that reached his eyes, a look of absolute certainty. “Yeah, it is,” he agreed softly.

Then, with a gentle yet firm pull, he threw his arm around your shoulder and planted a tender kiss on the top of your head as you both began to walk out of the airport. The gesture was protective, affectionate, and filled with unspoken promises of a future that, despite the hurdles, seemed brighter than ever. As you stepped out into the warm early morning air, there was a sense of beginning in every step, a new chapter waiting to be written together.

#december x 500 #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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waltwhitmansbeard · 2 years ago

Note

"I think you should kiss me" from the romantic prompts. No preferences, your choice ^_^

“ i think you should kiss me. “

"Is this too slutty?"

Percy doesn't even lift his head off of the bed. He keeps staring at the same spot on the ceiling he's been staring at for the past forty minutes. "No. Can we go?"

"We can't go if I look slutty, Percival." He can hear her dress swishing as she turns, presumably to achieve new angles in the mirror. "They're a curse, these tits, as much as a gift."

He's certainly not going to argue. "No one cares if you look slutty. It's a banquet, not a coronation."

"But I'm the hostess, dear. I need to achieve some semblance of class."

He's starting to sweat in this jacket, and he's starving. "If I look, I will tell you that you look beautiful, because you always do and I desperately would like to go down before all of our guests eat our food and leave. So you must decide for yourself if you are willing to try on yet another dress or if we are to attend our own party at some point this evening."

She clacks her teeth together nervously. "Do you think I should change?"

He sighs and hauls himself into a seated position. She's breathtaking, an absolute knockout in a shimmering midnight blue dress with a plunging neckline and a dangerous slit up the left side of the skirt. Were he not almost deliriously hungry, he'd cast his vote for staying here and peeling the fabric back inch by inch, devouring each new expanse of skin until he's sweating for much more fun reasons. He meets her eyes in the mirror. "I think you should kiss me."

She rolls her eyes. "You're trying to distract me."

"Trying? Failing, apparently."

She tears herself away from the mirror to come stand between his legs at the side of the bed. He brings his hands to rest on either side of her neck, which is draped with jewels that sparkle like water in sunlight. "Do you like the dress?" She nods, and he pulls her in for a long, languid kiss. "Then I like the dress, and I care extremely little for what everyone down there thinks of it or you."

He knows she cares, can see the protest in her eyes, but he also see the fight, the stubbornness he's fallen in love with every single day for years. "Alright. We can go down."

"Thank the gods." He slips down off of the bed. "Two more minutes and I was going to have to start eating you."

"Don't threaten me with a good time," she purrs, but he tugs her by the hand toward the door, dying to get to the food before he passes out—he has a sneaking suspicion he's going to need to keep his energy up long after their guests leave, and the last thing he wants to do is disappoint his wife, especially when she looks like this.

#ask #ravendruid #critical role #critical role fic #cr fic #vox machina #vox machina fic #perc'ahlia #perc'ahlia fic #my fic

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reikunrei · 1 year ago

Text

"...the most scared out of all of us."

Several months ago, when I first started playing around with Doctor Who analysis as it pertained to Stranger Things, I decided to watch one of my favorite episodes for fun:

Season 4, Episode 11: Midnight

I posted some screenshots of it because some of the lines/ideas presented in it are very.... y'know. And while I didn't go into the episode with any memory of similarities to st, I found myself surprised by the number of shared details between the two shows. So, I figured... why not make a little postie about it?

So, the episode stars the Doctor and his companion, Donna, visiting a crystalline planet named Midnight. Donna stays behind for a spa day at the so-called "Leisure Palace" that's been erected as a tourist spot while the Doctor goes on a many-hours-long shuttle tour to a sapphire waterfall. The planet itself is extremely dangerous with an entirely uninhabitable atmosphere - there is absolutely no life on the planet, aside from visitors who are in highly equipped buildings and vehicles that stave off the literally vaporizing planet exterior.

Thus, with Donna staying behind, the Doctor is now alone with a bus full of strangers, who tuck in for their long trek to the crystal falls.

Just to get the other characters out of the way for clarity's sake, we have the hostess, a lone passenger named Sky, husband and wife Biff and Val Kane and their son Jethro, and Professor Hobbes and his assistant Dee Dee. There's also a driver and a mechanic on board who are in the cockpit.

The driver explains to them all that they're taking a slight detour, as part of the usual path has been obstructed by debris, and they begin their venture into totally uncharted territory.

While normally the bus has myriad entertainment for the long trip, the Doctor, using his Sonic Screwdriver, shuts down the overwhelming number of devices, which results in all of the passengers talking and getting to know each other better. We get several short scenes of everyone talking and laughing, sharing stories and such. Most notably, the Doctor sits with Sky over lunch and they chat about why they're there. The Doctor explains he didn't come here alone, he's with Donna, but she didn't want to come along the tour. Sky explains that she's recently become single because "she (her partner) needed her own space" and is still getting used to traveling alone.

Prof. Hobbes even gives a brief presentation on the planet Midnight. It's his specialty, and he's been on this exact tour to the falls 14 times now.

This is emphasized a lot through the episode: there's no life on the planet, no one has ever set foot on it or touched it in any actual way, and they really don't know what's out there, aside from the general agreement that there shouldn't be any life that can exist on its surface. As I said earlier, they've even taken a path different from the normal route, so they wind up in places that literally no one has ever been before.

While it's confirmed that both the UD and Dimension X contain forms of life in the shape of the democreatures and the Shadow, the sentiment reminded me a lot of Vecna's whole "unspoiled by mankind" thing; and Henry's exclamation in the VR game that "there's life" in the UD, as if it's a surprise.

Then, suddenly, the bus stops. It shudders, the lights flicker briefly, and they come to a halt for seemingly no reason. Everyone is immediately concerned, especially Sky, who snaps that there's "no point in denying it" when Prof. Hobbes explains that the buses never stop on these tours.

The Doctor weasels his way into the cockpit to talk to the driver and mechanic to see what's up, and they all confirm that nothing is actually wrong, they've simply stopped. As they're stopped, the Doctor goads the driver into lifting the screens on the windows (as seen in the last screenshots) just to get a glimpse of the planet in the few minutes of safety they have behind the glass. However, the mechanic spots something strange.

No further comment necessary.

When the Doctor returns to the other passengers, Sky is still agitated. Dee Dee probes him on his explanation that the engines are "just stabilizing" because they're "micropetrol" engines that don't stabilize. When Prof. Hobbes further asks what's wrong, the Doctor gives a non-answer. Someone throws out the question of how much air they have; Val and Biff overhear and ask, frantic, what they just said. Even the hostess gives a non-answer when asked if they're running out of air, what's going on, etc. etc., until everyone, frightened, begins yelling over one another. The Doctor quiets everyone down and Dee Dee explains that these buses are designed to filter air so they won't run out, shutting down that fear. However, they still don't know why they've stopped.

Then, something bangs on the outside of the bus - two knocks. Prof. Hobbes and Dee Dee try to explain it away with the metal of the bus cooling/settling or rocks falling on the sides. However, the banging happens again and again, moving down the length of the bus. Again, it's (allegedly) impossible for anyone to be outside. The knocking even moves to the back emergency exit, where it begins trying to rattle with the door handle.

"It" is what "Henry" calls the Shadow in TFS rather than "he."

The banging moves to the roof of the bus before trying the main entrance. Biff knocks on the door three times, and the mystery knocking returns the three knocks. The Doctor knocks four times, and it returns four times. Now it's confirmed that it's something sentient. Sky is especially freaked out by this.

When the bus finally settles again, Jethro notices that Sky is sitting, crouched, on the floor at the front of the bus with her hands on her head. The seats around her have been ripped off the floor, as if by some unnatural strength. The Doctor approaches her to comfort her, telling her they're alright and the wall of the bus is still intact, though horribly dented inward.

The hostess can't get ahold of the driver, and thus tries the door to the cockpit, only to find that it's been entirely ripped off of the front of the bus. They slam the door shut before anyone can get sucked out. Thankfully, a distress signal and their location had already been sent out, but the driver and mechanic are dead, "reduced to dust." Like they were...... dematerialized......

The Doctor re-approaches Sky in an attempt to get her to come out of hiding. Jethro comments that the knocking has stopped, but what if that means it's now inside? "It was heading for her," he says as he nods toward Sky, who the Doctor is finally pulling out of hiding. However, when she turns to look at them all, she's unnatural. Her gaze flicks rapidly between everyone as she stares, wide-eyed and blank, like she's studying them. The Doctor cocks his head at her, and she cocks hers back. He asks her name, and she repeats it back to him.

He begins asking if she's hurt, etc., and she repeats the same questions and phrases right back to him. When the others start speaking, she whips her head toward them and echoes their words as well.

Again, no further comment necessary, aside from a quick link to Em's post about doppelgangers and making a special highlight of "when One kills, he consumes."

This continues to frighten everyone, who begin talking over each other and yelling at Sky to stop copying them when she, obviously, continues. Jethro gleefully begins shouting silly things to get her to repeat, specifically yelling "666." Ah, Victor Creel, emo kid Colin Morgan would've believed you when you said it was a demon.

Only when the backup power system kicks on does everyone get startled out of their panic, but as the hostess is telling everyone to calm down, they find that Sky's condition has progressed...

Here I also want to point out the growing change in Sky's physical demeanor. At first, as seen in the previous set of screenshots, her expression is fairly blank. However, as seen above, she starts to appear almost smug. And this continues through the episode; even the cadence of her voice is almost sing-song-y and smarmy. This isn't actually pointed out in the show, nor is there any clear explanation offered, but in my opinion it's likely due to the entity feeding off of/finding glee in the fear its behavior instills in the passengers, and likely beginning to pull from the actual personalities of the people on board to form something other than a blank slab repeating words.

The Doctor speaks with to her directly again, asking if it's really Sky, asking how she's doing this, and pondering what the "next stage" is. When someone asks if it's not Sky anymore, the Doctor says he doesn't think so and ushers everyone to the back of the bus, as far away from Sky as possible (though this doesn't stop her from echoing them).

The Doctor urges them to not even look at Sky, and Dee Dee quotes Christina Rossetti's "Goblin Market," specifically the lines, "We must not look at goblin men, we must not buy their fruits: Who knows upon what soil they fed Their hungry thirsty roots." I don't quite have the bandwidth to delve deeper into this whole poem, as it's quite long, but shout out to the word "roots."

Another shout out to the word "sick" here, especially when we were told earlier in the episode that Sky is queer. Thank you Stav for your words in the words show analysis.

Much like how the Shadow was confirmed in TFS to feed off of fear/is triggered by fear, this entity clearly sought out the fear in Sky and found her a suitable target. It's never outright confirmed or explained, but this is a fairly easy assumption to reach based off of how frantic Sky was, more so than anyone else on board. As for "monster" getting struck down in favor of her just being a woman... well, no further comment necessary, once again.

The Doctor speaks to everyone about how while there's a consciousness inside of Sky, she might still be in there and they have to help her. However, everyone is too afraid to get near her, to the point that the hostess suggests they throw her out instead. Val cries about how she can't even look at Sky's eyes (a sentiment that's been stated already and comes up again; they're frightened by how she's looking at them, which reminds me of the weirdness with eyes and eye-color changing in ST that James and Em have spoken about).

There's a lot of back and forth, with most people hesitantly then enthusiastically agreeing that they should throw her out, because maybe if they kill the physical body, it'll remove the threat, but the Doctor pleads with them not to kill anyone. He asks if they really want to meet this new life form and show they're just a bunch of murderers, or will they decide they're better than that?

Ultimately, all fearful, they, one by one, agree that they could, in fact, throw her out with no remorse.

So much good st2 language, mwah tasty.

When people still don't back down, the Doctor says they'll have to go through him first if they want to throw out Sky, and everyone sorta just goes "...okay." The Doctor asks, again, if any of them could really grab hold of someone and chuck them out the door. His insistence begins making them suspicious, and they all start to turn on him. The Doctor insists he's frightened and confused just like them; he isn't in on this, he's not "working with" Sky, but he, trying to hide his identity and being naturally fascinated by this never-before-seen lifeform, only makes them more wary of him. Val even says that "his eyes are the same as hers... It's a symptom!" and he's accused of lying from the very start of their trip. They all begin to believe that he's somehow involved with what's going on with Sky and threaten to throw him out with her.

Then, Jethro, again, notices a change.

She's latched onto the Doctor alone, likely because of his heightened fear due to having his life threatened. Val once again uses this as evidence that they're working together, but the Doctor ignores her and crouches in front of Sky. He asks her why she's "captured" his speech. He wonders if the entity has picked up that he's the smartest one there as a Time Lord rather than a human, and maybe it's chosen him because he's the only one who can help, whether it be giving the entity "life or form or consciousness or voice," and insists she doesn't have to "steal" it. However, he also sees the look in her eyes, and gets the feelings it's not help the entity wants.

He promises to help her, asking "Do we have a deal?" But the words come out of Sky's mouth first.

When the others ask the Doctor what's happening, Sky answers first, saying, "I think it's moved. I think it's letting me go." As they speak to Sky, they all come to the conclusion that this entity has moved from her and into the Doctor instead. Dee Dee, however, seems unconvinced. She's ignored, though, in favor of listening to Sky as she expresses that she's "coming back to life."

When they get Sky back onto her feet, this conversation ensues:

It's a lot of similar language to stuff about the UD and the flayings, especially irt Will in st2 and Henry listed as being "possessed" in the Weekly Watcher and possibly having an exorcism. I continue to be shocked by how so many episodes in Doctor Who revolve around concepts that are so akin to the Shadow.

Sigh. Once again, no additional comment necessary, aside from another Stav post about blood.

I want to emphasize the change in pronoun use. Throughout ST, most often the Mind Flayer/Shadow and Vecna have had "he" used for both of them, as they've become conflated. However, in TFS, "it" is solely used to refer to the Shadow. Throughout this dw episode, "it" and "she" were used quite interchangeably when speaking about Sky, and same here, we get this use of "it" and "he" for the Doctor, starting out separate with "it went into him" until he just becomes one whole entity under "he." It's conflating things, narrowing it down to be "easier to understand."

Dee Dee shouts that it's not the Doctor who's doing it, he's "just repeating." However, that's what it did the first time, so it's the same this time, right? Dee Dee disagrees, saying that this seems like the progression the Doctor talked about earlier; this is the next stage, not the entity having moved to a new host.

Val, frustrated, insists that she saw it move from her to him, despite none of them having seen such a thing, simply assuming it instead. Even Jethro is hesitant to agree with his mom, but ultimately does so when she pushes him. Everyone begins arguing as Dee Dee continues to say that it's not inside the Doctor, and Sky smugly says that, "That's how he does it. He makes you fight. Creeps into your head... and whispers... inside." It's all very “Henry” being goaded into killing animals by the Shadow in TFS, and the Shadow and Shadow Brenner talking to and taunting Henry in the VR game.

Being egged on and having their assumptions confirmed by Sky, Biff grabs the Doctor and begins dragging him toward the door to throw him out. The Doctor, now frozen due to being controlled/taken over by the entity, cannot fight back and simply continues repeating what Sky says.

However, Sky begins saying things that, through the episode, were established as being things the Doctor specifically says (the phrases "molto bene" and "allons-y" being common catchphrases in this episode and through David Tennant's three seasons). The hostess takes immediate notice of this, since she was present for the times he used these phrases, and she finally really realizes that Sky has taken his voice. Under the clamor, Sky is saying that, "The starlight waits! The emptiness. The Midnight sky."

Acting fast, the hostess rushes Sky and grabs her, hits the button to the emergency exit door, and throws out herself and Sky. The door automatically shuts behind them before anyone else can be affected by the atmosphere, instantly cutting off the Doctor from the entity, and he falls to the floor, muttering that, "It's gone, it's gone..."

Golly, did I say this post would be little? Sorry, I am incapable of making these posts without listing out the entire plot of the episodes so you guys have full context! Anyway.

What I really wanted to talk about irt this episode was the immense focus on fear, and specifically fear of the unknown and how that makes people behave in illogical, dangerous ways. It's a lot of knee-jerk reactions and wanting to swiftly remove the threat before fully understanding what the threat actually is. We don't even know if Sky could have actually been saved! She very well may have still been alive underneath the entity, but in the mess of everything, they couldn't take the time to figure it out and actually try to save her.

Obviously, all of that made me think of things with the Shadow, and especially of Will in st2 when he fully changes as a person/seems to be entirely taken over with everyone else being hard-pressed to break through to him.

However, more specifically, everything else about it just screams the situation around Henward, and specifically what we see in TFS.

"Henry" is dealing with something unknown having taken over his mind and body, feeling urges that do not belong to him that he's being pushed into anyway. But what drives the mess deeper and deeper is the fact that people (Virginia, Patty, etc.) are frightened of him. They think it's him and not something else making him do these awful things. They refuse to actually help him, or even listen to him to figure out what would actually best help him, thus condemning him... essentially to death, just like Sky, all because they simply don't understand and are scared of that.

They listen to their own fear instead of understanding that Henry is scared too. This is also an issue with the fandom at large, but we won’t get into that rn.

Similarly, the Party and the rest of our main cast are, understandably, scared of Vecna. However, it’s clouded their judgement. We all know I’m a huge proponent of the “there’s more than one guy” theory, and thus this issue of conflating people and things leads to poor decisions when it comes to trying to fix the issue, ultimately resulting in a worse outcome.

In Midnight, the rest of the passengers, terrified and frazzled, believe the first and simplest solution presented to them: the entity has left Sky and instead entered the Doctor. Therefore, if they throw the Doctor out of the bus, the problem will be solved; they'll be safe. However, obviously, this isn't the case, and due to their misunderstanding, they would turn a completely innocent man to dust and still have the entity residing among them.

Similarly, in st4, we're presented with a "new" villain: Vecna. Our team has discovered that the source behind everything that's happened to them is this one guy locked in another dimension, hidden in (more or less) plain sight. He is wreaking havoc and boasting about it, but it feels like a very big, flashy way to cover up another, more long-existing villain that's been present since the start of the show: HNL and, specifically, Brenner.

Take a victim -> Push him into unsavory acts -> Mold him into a villain, whether in real life or in retellings (lies) of his existence -> Hide in his shadow and fall out of focus.

It all feels a little too planned, y'know? Because the beginning of everything can always be traced back to the lab, but suddenly it's like everyone has forgotten the roots of the tree and decided to chop off one of the branches and call it good.

Which leads me into a brief thought I had about NINA when I was watching this dw episode, which was spurred by the characters claiming their voices were "stolen" or "captured" by Sky. Especially once Sky fully captured the Doctor's voice and was speaking "on her own." She uses his voice to goad the others into killing him, which, presumably, would have given the entity full control/absorption of his voice.

I've said it already, but the goading feels very akin to TFS Brenner saying things to Henry like "you liked it" irt killing animals, putting words in his mouth and conflating Henry's personal feelings with the desires of the Shadow. Or even of the Shadow and Shadow Brenner taunting Henry in the VR game, telling him that he always loved snapping bones and killing things, but we never actually hear Henry confirm this. The Shadow and Brenner are often "stealing" Henry's voice by way of putting words in his mouth and thoughts in his head that he wouldn't have on his own.

But circling back to NINA specifically, it makes me think of Henward being used as a puppet for Brenner's meddling. Brenner has stolen Henward's voice, his looks, his mannerisms, in order to say and do things that Henward may never have said or done on his own in order to paint a specific picture for El.

And, again, because El is scared, because she doesn't understand what's going on or have the resources to even try, she simply lashes out. Remove the threat and she'll be safe. No matter if this is the real threat; he's an immediate threat in her eyes, therefore he's her target. Killing him is the closest answer she has to "solving" everything.

It's high-stakes situations, fear of the unknown, and mob mentality that results in the passengers on Midnight and our Hawkins gang having their knees knocked out from under them. Without taking the time to think, to stay calm, to mull over their options, they will always come to the wrong conclusions and not fix things like they hoped.

In st4, they're scared and on a time crunch, and with only some of the necessary information at their disposal, they're going to work with what they've got, even if they'd find contradictions if they looked just a little bit harder. They have their immediate threat, someone they can point at and see harm happening because of them, so why see if there's someone else hiding in his shadow? Why waste their, quite literally, precious time when they can, theoretically, still do good with what they have?

#st dw #stranger things #i say things

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