#fic review: holiday shambles
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 24 days ago
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Meet the Family 7
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)
Characters: Lloyd Hansen
Note: my gut said go full self-indulgent so I did.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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Your phone lights up again. You’ve already waited too long. You can’t avoid this any longer and in that moment, avoiding Lloyd’s family is a bigger priority. You get up, thankful to be away from Lloyd’s wandering touches, and excuse yourself to take the call. You don’t miss the scathing judgment from Gwenyth, but you don’t care either. 
You go out into the hallway and try to keep your voice down. There’s enough chatter that you’re not entirely concerned. You answer and close your eyes. 
“Hi, mom--” 
“Where are you?” She demands. “You said you would be here. I’ve been waiting. Calling. Your sister too. We’re all worried--” 
“Mom, I’m sorry. I missed my flight--” 
“Oh, yes, I couldn’t put that together,” she snaps. 
“I’m sorry, mom. Really. I know—I messed up again. I really wanted to come but that was the only flight--” 
“It’s not that you couldn’t make it, it’s that you couldn’t even let me know! I’ve been in shambles, thinking the worst. I check the flights to make sure there were no crashes, I’ve been looking through news reports.” 
She starts to devolve into breathy sobs. You feel horrible. Your guilt overwhelms your self-pity. Suddenly being stuck with these rich snobs isn’t so bad. Your mother has spent half her Christmas worrying over you, and know her, you wouldn’t be surprised if she actually tore some hair out. 
“I know I should have called. I’m sorry, I’ve been trying to figure something out,” you lie, poorly since the defeat is in your voice.  
Your mother has always been your kryptonite. She’s not cruel like Gwenyth, but her disappointment is devastating and all too easy to earn. She just wants the best for you but you’ve never managed the best. 
“So you can come?” She sniffles. 
“Um, not today, but I’m looking at tomorrow.” Another frail falsehood. “I promise, I’ll let you know--” 
“Sweet pea,” Lloyd’s voice undercuts yours and you cringe. You put your finger up and turn to signal him to hush. 
“Yeah, mom, I’ll try for tomorrow and if I can’t get there--” 
“Mom?” Lloyd echoes with a smirk. 
You shake your head. 
“Who’s that?” Your mom asks. 
You grimace and glare daggers at Lloyd as he comes closer. You outstretch your arm and put your hand just below his chest.  
“Mom, it’s just--” 
Lloyd easily reaches past your resistance and swipes the phone. He puts it on speaker with a tap of his thumb as you lunge at him. He grabs your arm and forces it up. Nearly dangly you from it as you lash with the other. 
“Is this mom?” Lloyd asks brightly. 
“Um, hello? Who is this? Where’s my daughter?” 
“Mom, I’m here. Lloyd, give me the phone back--” 
“Boo, what’s going on?” She asks. 
Lloyd looks at you with a mischievous grin and mouths ‘boo?’ with a tweaked brow. You shake your head again and plead. 
“Mom, it’s nothing--” 
“I think I spoiled the surprise,” he speaks over you. “We’re going to be coming tomorrow.” 
“We?” She ekes out, you hear the worry mounting in her voice. 
“Please don’t be mad at Pixie, she was just being a good girlfriend. We stopped by my family’s house and oh boy, the snow we got up this way,” he tuts in a very convincing monologue. You’re stunned into silence at his act. He sounds like a decent person but you know better. “And you know, everything was so hectic as we tried to dig out that it just got all ahead of us.” 
“I’m sorry, who are you? Boo?” She asks desperately. 
“Mom--” 
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I should’ve started with that. I’m Lloyd. Her boyfriend.” 
“Boyfriend?” You mother breathes, “boo?” 
“Yeah, mom, er,” you wrench your hand free and smack Lloyd’s arm. “He’s um, going to come with me, so uh--” 
“I’ll be there, both of us, with bows on,” he promises. “Please, allow me to apologise from the bottom of my heart for keeping your daughter from you. You can’t blame her. It was entirely me. I am not a morning person and she can only do so much to keep me in line.” 
You grit your teeth as you squint at him. How does he sound like such a dweeb? Well, looking at him with that mustache, he kinda is one. 
“Oh, well, that’s lovely, very nice,” your mother coos, “I can let everyone else know. Oh, boo, you could’ve told us--” 
“Again, that’s on me,” Lloyd preens, “I thought it would be a nice surprise.” 
“It is, it is,” she assures. “Oh, it will be so nice to meet you. We’ve never met any of Pixie’s men.” 
“Mom,” you groan. 
“We never really thought she had any. She’s always been so focused on work, and before that, it was school--” 
“Mom,” you jab Lloyd’s ribs as he smirks bigger and bigger, then snatch the phone from him. “Promise, we’ll get there but uh... gotta go. Love you.” 
“Love you too, boo. Oh and it was nice meeting you, um--” 
“Lloyd,” he supplies and sticks out his tongue. 
“Bye.” You hit end and put your phone in your pocket.  
Your agitation peaks and you can’t help from shoving Lloyd. It barely affects him which annoys you more. God, he is such a little—big turd. 
“Why would you do that?” 
“What? I just did you a favour.” 
“A favour? You just dragged my family into this bullshit--” 
“Well, hate to break it to you, boo,” he emphasizes the last word as he grabs your hands and pulls them away from his stomach, “but they’re going to have be. We promised mine a white wedding.” 
“You are so--” 
“So...?” He prompts. 
“Urgh.” 
“Oh, don’t be so grumpy. It’s a ticket out of this place. Literally. So you just let me know where I need to book tickets and I’ll pull a few strings--” 
“Strings? You couldn’t pull these earlier?” 
“On Christmas Day? Please, even I can’t do that but the day after Christmas, my guy’s getting into the punch right now, he’ll be just tipsy enough--” 
“You are torturing me,” you accuse. 
“I really can’t deny that,” he snickers as he lets you go. “Now tell me where I’m booking these tickets too and I’ll hop right on that...” he looks you up and down and bites his lip, “as much as I’d like to hop on something else.” 
You huff, “Toronto.” 
He twitches, “Toronto? As in... Canada?” 
You nod and roll your eyes. 
“Wait, Pixie puff, you’re Canadian?” 
You tilt your head and look at him. You shrug, “what does that matter?” 
“Well, I thought you type were supposed to be nice, first of all.” 
“Just make the call,” you sneer and cross your arms. “You’ve already mangled this Christmas, may as well put it out of its misery.” 
“Why don’t you do the same for me, huh? I’m suffering, Pix. Just give it a squeeze” he gets closer. You flutter your lashes then he wiggles his hips. “These pants are killing my circulation. I told you, I don’t wear underroos.” 
“Back up before I lose it,” you warn. 
“I’m close to losing it too, baby face,” he groans. 
“Make. The. Call.” You demand. “And I’ll happily break the news to your dear sweet mother that we need to go get ready to fly out.” 
His expression sobers and he exhales heavily, “Pix,” he utters quietly, “sometimes, you’re scary. Don’t... don’t piss off mom too much. Please.” 
“Book the tickets, honey poo,” you chime in an acidic tone, “and I’ll make sure mommy’s not crying into her champagne.”  
You poke centre of his chest and bounce on your heels before you spin away. Your mother’s disappointment might be like arsenic but Gwenyth’s is the exact antidote you need. 
❄️
“I know a girl in Toronto. A few actually,” Lloyd says over the steering wheel. He’s tasked with driving back to the hotel since you imposed sobriety on him as punishment for the day. “Strange, you’re nothing like them.” 
“I don’t care,” you grumble. 
“Ugh, your wheel is too low,” he mutters as he stops at a red and tries to adjust it. You don’t respond.  
You just want to lay down. Your head is pounding from the lack of sleep and Lloyd managed to book you an early morning flight which will curtail any meaningful sleep. You close your eyes and ignore his fussing. 
Finally, he steps on the gas. “So, Canada, you grew up with those geese, huh? Explains the bite--” 
“What?” 
“I read somewhere they have teeth--” 
“Why the heck are you moaning about geese for?” 
“I hear it now. Couldn’t place it before. I thought Minnesota or somewhere but when you’re angry, you get this twang--” 
“Be quiet,” you let your head drop back again. “I’m getting a migraine.” 
“Aw, baby,” he coos. 
“Lloyd,” you growl. 
“I can make it better. I read somewhere that you can massage it better. Oh, and you know, orgasms--” 
“You read a lot of nonsense for someone who I never see reading,” you drone and prop your elbow against the door to cradle your head. 
“There’s a wealth of information on the internet when you’re not scrolling porn,” he chuckles. You let out a disgusted noise. “Don’t worry, pixie. I’m committed to this. Me and you, we’re going to get our piece of the pie and make off like bandits.
"So you let me play the loyal husband. I’ll get you all spread out and loose, I’ll rub your head and your shoulders, then my hands might wander a little bit more...” he hums. “I’ll touch the peach a bit, I just can’t help myself, but I think you’ll be ready by then.” 
“Don’t you dare touch me,” you snarl. 
“Ah, come on, flying is so stressful and after the day we had, we both need that release--” 
“How many more times do I need to tell you to stop?” 
“And how many times do I need to tell you I won’t? It’s fate now, Pixie.” He clucks and slowly turns. You lift your head and look up at the hotel sign. “Hey, if you like the long game, I can go along with it. Make it hurt so good.” 
“Do you ever think of anything else?” 
“There’s a constant undercurrent that never really leaves my mind,” he shrugs as he parks. “But I’m great at multitasking.” 
You grumble and shake your head. It sends a throbbing pulse through your skull. You undo your seatbelt and drag yourself out of the car. As the door shuts, you wince. Then Lloyd’s and you feel the nausea start to crawl through your guts. The lack of sleep, the stress, the alcohol, it’s a perfect recipe for a deadly migraine. 
You do your best to push through as you make your way up to the room silently. Lloyd is not so quiet. He’s rambling about something; a shirt? You don’t know and you don’t care.  
You take out the room and enter the hotel suite. You drop the key and your purse and shed your coat. You hang it on the hook on the back of the door and tread further in. You don’t stop until you get to the bed. You ease yourself down and bury your face in the pillow. 
“Pixie,” Lloyd’s worry puts you on edge. You raise your hand and wave him off without lifting your head. “You need some Advil?” 
You shoo him again with your fingers. You popped some with your last glass of wine. You probably should’ve opted for water. 
Your alarm is set. You will have to awake before the sky shifts that slightly lighter shade of grey and try again. You know better than to trust Lloyd, but you’re putting some faith in him to get you home. 
You feel the bed dip behind you and Lloyd’s mutters and grumbles creep into your ears. You move the pillow over your head and hug it against your ear. You tune him out as you urge your mind down to the depths. In your bouts, there is no relief, but sleep can at least dull the agony. 
Your brain turns to sludge as the steady pounding evens out to a tempo. You drift into the muddy no man’s land between waking and otherwise. You’re conscious enough to feel the pain, but you're detached enough to bear it. 
Time crumbles around like sand in a glass. Your mind swirls with churning recreations of the day behind you. Most of them fractured and nonsensical. Voices without words, faces without names. 
A shiver washes through you as a tickle flutters down the back of your thighs. The cool sensation flows over your skin. You shudder and cling to that tenuous state of dissociation. A jolt forces you out of the void. 
You roll over and throw your arm out. It bounces off of Lloyd’s shoulder as your eyes slit. You yipe as you find him tugging at your pants. You kick and amplify the siren whining in your head. 
“What are you doing?” You rasp as you flail at him. 
“Relax, pixie stick, I’m just trying to help you relax. You can’t sleep in this,” he peels your pants down your legs and you swat at him again. 
You look down and find your sweater gone, only your bra to conceal your chest. You quickly hide behind folded arms. “What the hell?” 
“Damn, Pix, you never said you had a dump truck he untangles the fabric from your ankles. 
You whimper and push yourself up on your elbows, you bareness secondary to your irritation. “Get way from me.” 
“Just let me rub you down,” he begs as he runs his hands up your calves. “Promise, I’ll be a good boy. I kept my dick strapped down, baby.” 
Your eyes flit down unthinkingly. He’s in only his briefs. The rest of him is exposed; his fur-trimmed chest, his thick but firm stomach, and his muscled legs. You look him in the face and he winks. “Made you look.” 
“Stop, please,” you flick your fingers at him. 
“You got me struggling,” he begs as his hands trail further up and he kneads your thighs. “I’m hurting like prom night and you been grinding on me in a tack ballgown all night--” 
“Ew--” 
“It’ll make you feel better--” 
You catch his fingers as he traces the edges of your underwear. As you curl up, the weight of your head thunks own at the base. Urgh. 
“No--” 
“I’m just going to rub you down like a good boy. That’s it,” pushes against your hands. “You can even keep these on.” He runs his thumbs along the front of your panties. “They look fucking delicious anyway.” 
“Lloyd.” 
“Shhh,” he hushes you and shoves your hands off of his. 
Before you can stop him, he straddles you. He puts his large hands around your skull and you whine. H works his fingers into your scalp as he continues to shush you and presses his thumbs to your temples. The warmth of his tough makes you sigh. You hate that it feels good. 
“Just like this, baby,” he purrs as he keeps you pinned under him. “Just relax.” 
Your eyes roll back as you shatter to pieces. In this state, you have no strength to fight him. Besides, why should you stop him when it feels so amazing? 
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ressjeon · 3 years ago
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hello i just read holiday shambles. its a good fic i just have some constructive criticism: the fic overall seems very rushed and there's no proper flow to it. Things just keep happening one after the other very fast, and each event is written about in only a few sentences before moving to the next one so some things don't really make sense (e.g. why did the oc follow namjoon to the store, namjoon suddenly got locked in the attic). I think thid fic can become even better with a lil editing.
hi and well FORGIVE me anon for not having a beta reader to edit this fic but i actually intended the flow of the story to link with the title "shambles” meaning “chaos”. i wanted readers to feel the stress while reading this just like i did when writing (with all the events piling up) and this is also one of the fics that i wrote/posted simultaneously with the other 2 in the span of 3 days so yeah maybe it did felt rush. thank you either way and i do have plans on editing all my fics one day when i have time but for now, i have a lot of fics to write if you check my WIPs though i may edit this one during Christmas time since i'll cross-post it to AO3 in December to fit with the season.
i'll provide a short outline of the fic under the cut to avoid spoilers along with the passages from it with the scenes that you were asking so you can understand the story better. hope it helps ^^
the entire fic happened in 2 days (December 24th to the 25th) that’s why the events were quick and i didn’t emphasize it that much since some people who might read this don’t celebrate Christmas so i wanted it to just be a holiday weekend
it was the early morning of the 24th when they were driving to the rental house
after the argument with his parents, OC went to the bedroom upstairs to cry and avoid further arguments with them and then she was wondering why her parents aren't at the house yet (when they're usually early)
oc followed Namjoon to the town centre after because she knows that Namjoon might forget to buy it (after she reminded him everyday and he did STILL forgot to buy it later because he was panicking after your parents told him that you saw him in the store with the saleslady)
oc picked up her parents after seeing him at the store and at the time when he’s done buying and called her parents, they’re already at the house so then he knew you saw them
he tryna say sorry after he came home but he knows you’re near your limit so he proceeds to give you space and decides to put up the lights outside while you order food and do some last minute decorating
OC is exhausted and almost passed out during Christmas Eve dinner (after arguing again with his parents about her not being able to cook)
Namjoon took OC up to their bedroom to rest and yeah yk how he was able to make OC release everything she’s been holding up and calmed her down 😗
After calming her down, that’s when Namjoon leaves to the attic to hide his gift for OC since she’s good at finding them
Meanwhile, your Dad walks up in the hallways to find the opened ceiling with the dangling ladder and shakes his head as he lifts it up to close it, accidentally locking Namjoon inside.
this was why Namjoon was locked in the attic and it was late at night/early morning after midnight already so everyone must’ve been sleeping
OC wakes up on the morning of the 25th without Namjoon by her side and she thought he fell asleep somewhere after climbing the roofs again (he usually sneaks out after OC sleeps to do something that she’ll surely scold him for)
that day was when all of you would go to the town centre to hopefully look around the Christmas displays or do some holiday activities/bonding time with both of your parents (take pics, have some hot chocolate, etc.)
Namjoon was sleeping in the cold already that’s why he woke up pretty late and then he tried to get out from the attic, where he finally saw you and your parents leaving so he yelled
and then he lowkey fell and both of your Moms were overreacting because of what happened to you the night before so they insisted to bring you both at the hospital just to be sure
and yes Namjoon did get minor injuries from falling a bit and OC is still floating with what’s happening and now she just found out that she’s pregnant 
it’s honestly the only good thing that happened so she’s happy and she actually want the baby, she just wanted to tease Namjoon because of his clumsiness earlier (and she was lowkey jealous with the saleslady)
this was still on the 25th so a Christmas gift indeed for both OC and Namjoon
i’ll let you guess what the gift was 👀
i whipped this outline just now so ye hope it makes sense
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ressjeon · 3 years ago
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omy Ashlyn bb thank you sm for reading and leaving a review for this hurried fic haha. and you're welcome, you're such the sweetest! 🥺😭💖
hey i had no idea how i did this fr. i think me being a psych major and maybe cuz i really wanna get married one day really helped 😭
ps. i really love this namjoon >.<
holiday shambles | knj
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pairing: husband!namjoon x wife!reader
summary: when you have to spend time with both your parents and Namjoon’s snobby ones for this Christmas, you’re forced to show the best version of you even knowing what’s to come. you’re ready, right? after all, you’re the best wife aren’t you?
rating: nc-17
genre: established relationship, rom-com, fluff, light smut, angst (it’s happy ending dw y’all 🤣)
word count: 5k
warnings: swearing, fingering (that’s it), reckless driving, condescending in-laws, arguing, jealousy, some accidents (falling) , OC has short temper and Namjoon is dense but is the sweetest 🥺
a/n: full present is finally here! this is for the “cookies and christmas chaos” category in the “christmas in july” collab hosted by @kookdiaries (thank you for this banner & divider), my homie @kithtaehyung & my bb @xiaokoo! i borrowed elements from the movie i was assigned with: national lampoon’s christmas vacation (1989) and this is my poor attempt at the genre (help i really tried y’all 😩)
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― masterlist — navigation ― wips
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“Y/N, love, please calm down” Namjoon has been trying to hush you down with panicked eyes, looking back and forth from you and the road in front of you both.
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