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paradiseinternet · 19 days ago

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I Hate Tony Stark: Chapter Two

pairing: Tony Stark x Soulmate!Reader

word count: 4.5k

triggers: death (mentioned, not detailed), childhood trauma, poverty, out-of-body-experience, swearing.

author's note: hope ya enjoy the update.

also posted on ->

https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/158293111?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_860724604

Chapter Two: Not the Best Birthday Ever

Naturally you were seething with anger. However, this anger only got worse as a second later had you spat out his name, did the very words ink into your skin. There, on the inner part of your left wrist, was the name Tony Stark. Taunting. Laughing. Pointing. You can’t recall if the tattoo had hurt, your boiling hatred was enough of a numbing agent. Something you noticed later was the way it was written. It was not a typical print but instead seemed to follow the characteristics of (what you presumed to be) his handwriting.

Immediately following the print of his name on your wrist had you felt a light shock of electricity. The kind that told you that it came from the inside, and somehow communicated that the same feeling was sent to him. However, if this is anything like the SIA that you’re familiar with, a name is only printed onto the skin of the one who said the name. As in, he doesn’t know your name because he hasn’t said it, but he knows you know who he is.

Nevertheless, these events are in the past and when you turned 18 you had a few things that needed to be done. First, you needed to arrange your mother’s funeral because she had recently passed away. Unknown to you, after a soul break the average lifespan of the surviving soulmate is decreased significantly and the survivor only lives for about two more years. Because of this, her health had been deteriorating rapidly resulting in you needing to get a job to help pay for the costs she was no longer able to afford. The government gave your mother a tax-free stipend of $100,000 as reimbursement for the death of your father, but that money was quickly put towards medical bills as your mother started to frequent the hospital as time went on. As bills began to increase, so did the number of hours you put in. It got to the point that you dropped out of high school at 17 to get another job just to afford everything.

The second thing on your list was to find new accommodation. You had decided that it was necessary to move as far away from Tony Stark as you could; so, New York was going to become your new home. Without a mother or father, nor any social life to speak of, it was high time to change your life and try to start anew.

Finally, you made a promise to yourself to become better off than what your parents were. If you were to have any children to take care of in the future, you’d make sure they’d never ask for less on any holiday because of a financial burden.

Your goals were obtainable and within reach, it would just take a bit of time.

A few months after burying your mother you found yourself stepping out of the airport into New York. Coming prepared, you had already found a small studio apartment that would be called home until something more fitting was found. In the meantime, and one taxi later, you held the keys as you stepped into one of the cheapest rooms you could get your hands on. The floorboards squeaked almost as much as your neighbor’s bed every day late in the evening. The paint was peeling at the edges and bloated in some areas holding what you hoped to be runoff water. As for the ceiling, it was marked with occasional water damage and off-white splotches. This place was not nice, but you came from a life of not-nice things.

It only took about a week to find a job, then another few days for an additional job. Many occupations required a high school diploma, so a GED was put onto your list of things you needed to do. For now, you were at the bottom of the barrel working as a barista full-time and pizza delivery driver part-time. Again, not ideal but at least you’re alive.

You’d gotten into a groove of working and sleeping while somehow making time for studying for your GED. Getting the certificate didn’t take much time considering you were already good at school, the long part was just refreshing your memory and dealing with the New York state government. It was when you were about 19 years old had you received your GED, and in the meantime, you also managed to move into a nicer studio apartment in Queens (previously you had been living on the outskirts of New York City, which isn’t exactly known for being the safest). This new location at least didn’t have peeling paint, and no frisky neighbors were an added bonus. Also, since you now had a GED, your employer at the barista job was willing to pay more with the possibility of becoming manager. So now you only need to work one job. Things were looking up! You hadn’t even really thought about your mistake of a soulmate, at least not until you turned 22.

Being 22 was apparently lucky, at least that was according to your coworker Trish. She was a bit superstitious and tended to become erratic, but otherwise she seemed sane. One day after asking for your age and replying with how you were almost 22, she had a grin grow on her freckled face as her hazel eyes seemed to shine under the coffeehouse ceiling light. Allegedly the numbers 2 and 2 together are incredible special and signify that big dreams were about to come true. Considering you didn’t really have any big dreams, other than hoping for the miracle of sleeping in, you brushed her off.

Trish’s superstition, however, almost seemed viable when the news station began to release another round of new information. The little box TV was situated in the corner of the coffee bar so that both customers and employees could indulge in the latest information heap. This latest spill seemed to be about, you guessed it, none other than Tony Stark. Your mouth turned sour at the thought of such an evil man. So, he recognized his wrongs and changed his company entirely, so what? Your father is still dead, and no amount of philanthropy (or “hero” work) will change that. But the TV wasn’t discussing the latest scandalous acts of the billionaire, instead announcing his decision to re-instate something called a “Stark Expo” which would begin in roughly a month.

What made you begin to believe Trish was how the playboy held himself. To the average person he looked fine, but something inside you said he was in pain. He was dying. And so, unsure whether to be uninterested or worried, you chose to ignore the footage they were playing from his announcement. Afterall, if we was dying, that means your days are numbered. You can’t do anything about his soon-to-be demise, and you weren’t planning on trying. Afterall, you ha—

Wait, what did the news just say?

“Hey, uh, Trish?” You called out to your sporadic coworker, anxiously adjusting the watch covering the fated soulmate name on your left wrist.

There wasn’t a response which resulted in you looking towards a customer instead. There in front of you was a man who could’ve been mistaken for Kris Kringle, looking half-attentively at the TV.

“Excuse me, sir,” you directed at Santa.

He turned his attention to you and nodded his head in acknowledgment.

“Do you recall where exactly the Stark Expo will be held?” You asked. “They just said, but I missed it.”

“Flushing Meadows,” he said softly—perhaps this was old saint nick.

You nodded in thanks as your mouth went dry.

‘Flushing Medows is in Queens,’ you reminded yourself. Even living in the state for about four years now, it still took time to remember all the subdivisions and boroughs inside New York City.

No need to panic, this isn’t something you can’t handle. Sure, you live in Queens; but Queens is still large and if you take the day off you should be fine. Besides, when was the last time you stayed home and did nothing? Sounded relaxing to be honest.

To clarify, this system you’ve worked out isn’t new. If you had gotten wind that the playboy was visiting Queens specifically, you’d effectively take the time off. However, he would typically spend his time in the heart of New York city and Manhattan. So, since he frequented the location so much, it would be expensive for you to take so much time off. Granted, if you had known that the billionaire came to New York so much you would’ve picked a different state, but nothing has happened so far. It’s more cost effective to stay put than move again.

Typically your boss desired a reason for taking time off, and with your birthday coming up in a month, why not celebrate it this year? Granted, you couldn’t throw a party because you had no one (other than coworkers) to invite. But sometimes the best things are enjoyed individually.

With the plan formulated, you informed your boss of your actions as everything moved into place.

Finally, your birthday. As a present to yourself (and an expensive one at that), you had decided to take the whole week off. Might as well, right?

The actual expo would last the entire year, but you had a hinting suspicion that the man himself would show up some time during the first week of launch—very typical for any orchestrator of events. Even if it was just a hunch, you were not willing to take the risk. Instead, you were huddled up in some blankets and eating ice cream on your second-hand bed/mattress while watching your favorite TV show. Your TV wasn’t anything special, just something you found on the side of the road with the word “FREE” on it. Maybe it was laced with cocaine or had human remains splattered on it, but free is free. Actually, a lot of your possessions were free. Since you rented a studio apartment the living room and bedroom became one, so you had to get creative with decorating. In the center of the room was a small coffee table that was given to you by another coworker who just didn’t want it anymore. Majority of your pots and pans come from the dumpster of a restaurant you pass by every day (that was a good day). Your bed (which currently lacked sheets) was bought from a local thrift shop and pillows from a nearby donation center (technically those are donations to the thrift shop, but it was just out in the open begging to be snatched). Your form of warmth came in the variety of blankets and hoodies gifted to you for holidays and previous birthdays. To save money you keep the apartment at a brisk 60 degrees Fahrenheit, so having many ways to warm yourself up was necessary. Thankfully you lived on the sixth floor, so as heat rises, so does your happiness.

Suddenly in the distance you heard some fireworks go off, most likely a signal to the rest of the city that the expo is live. Uninterested, you continued to binge your show for at least another hour, content with the discounted ice cream you found in the store earlier that day. That was until you heard sirens go by your apartment. This wasn’t unusual . . . except for when several other emergency services were following quickly behind.

Was there a fire nearby?

Glancing out the window you looked to take a glance at any orange light nearby, only to notice there was a lot of noise coming from the direction of the open building that the Stark expo was supposed to be held at. Outside there is what seemed to be tiny, self-driving fireworks almost circling the area of the event. Unable to properly make out what was going on, you deciding to pick up the remote and change channels until you find the news station. When finally getting onto what seemed to be a news report, you quickly discover that the expo was hijacked, rouge military robots were attacking everything (which was not the self-driving fireworks you initially thought), and somehow Iron Man was at the heart of it all.

“Yeah, fuck that,” you mumbled while getting out of bed.

Grabbing a backpack, you made the executive decision that you were a little too close to the chaos that followed Tony Stark and perhaps a motel a few miles out would be more suffice.

Only packing the essentials one would need for a single night, you then made your way outside of the studio and towards the bus stop right across from your apartment. It was already dark outside and so it wasn’t exactly the smartest to be going out, but when facing a possible bump-in with a crook or an encounter with Loverboy, you decided to press your luck.

After hoping on the mostly empty bus, you paid for your fare then rode it for twenty-two stops (the irony). The entire time you tried not to touch anything because who knows what this bus has gone through.

Soon you arrived at something like a Best Western Hotel but if it was a secret brothel. When walking inside you were met with an interior that wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought it would be. When looking up motels nearby in a catalog, this one was cheap but only had two stars. Deep inside you found some humor because your brain formulated the idea of discolored carpet and orange-floral wallpaper, but the lobby wasn’t anything close to that. Instead, there was hard-wood flooring, painted walls, and the occasional house plant.

In front of you was a woman who seemed to not of noticed your entrance. Her hair was frizzly and blonde while her face looked to mirror the makeup style of the 80s. As you walked closer you saw a cigarette between her red lipstick-stained lips. Smoking indoors is most certainly not allowed, but you didn’t exactly look for a 5-star hotel, did you?

After making your presence known you then purchased the cheapest room of the night. The woman was completely uninterested but could at least do her job. In her eyes, she kind of reminded you of yourself—tired and barely getting by. Then again, isn’t that most of the citizens in New York City?

She handed you your key (which was suspiciously sticky) and you made your way up the stairs. Many places have elevators nowadays, but that doesn’t mean these older buildings have the same pleasure. So you made your way up nine stories and by the time you reached the top you were ready to fall over.

Jiggling the key into the keyhole you grasped the handle and pulled back like the lady instructed. Apparently, some of the locks get jammed and this was the only remedy. Like magic the key twisted, and the door opened.

That’s when you laughed. Sure, the lobby didn’t look retro, but this room sure did. The exact thought of discolored carpet and orange-floral wallpaper came to fruition inside this room. In fact, it even smelled ancient. If a chain-smoker had been living here for the past decade you’d believe it.

The bed looked innocent enough (even though you were skeptical of bedbugs), so you laid your backpack on it and pulled out your pajamas. Soon after you found yourself in the bathroom that looked to come straight out of The Shinning. Seriously, it was like a miniature version of the film’s bathing room—which made you uneasy. Spending as little time as possible inside the off-putting room, you took a shower and got your nightgown on. The nightgown was modest and was the color of baby blue. It hugged the cuffs of your wrist and ended mid-calve. Thankfully, you expected the floor to be a little suspicious, so you pulled out the fluffy socks from your backpack and put them on.

At the end of your nightly routine you found yourself sitting at the windowsill of the hotel room, gazing at the general direction of the expo. Your mind was running particularly fast. About what, you hadn’t a clue; it was like your brain was on steroids and you could think of a million better things to do than sleep.

All things considered; this is actually not the worst birthday you’ve had. Sure, running from your soulmate isn’t exactly a pleasant pastime, but it sure does beat turning 16 only for two weeks later your father to die because of your soulmate . . . then your mother to die because your soulmate killed your father. In the grand scheme of things, life isn’t great but at least you’re not dead. At least, you question how long that’ll last when suddenly multiple large-scale bombs detonated and created an expansion of fire near the Stark expo.

Your view from the ninth story of a non-brothel made your jaw hit the floor in shock. Perhaps your slightly erratic choice of moving further away wasn’t insane, but your intuition.

He’s not dead, you know this for certain because your heart doesn’t ache from a soul break. Instead, you believe your increased heartbeat was due to being so close to something so dangerous. Unsure of what else to do other than gawk, you made your move away from the window. Perhaps the less you knew, the better. Everything that this night has given you can be re-thought in the morning after a night of restful sleep.

Moving to bed you begin to feel your wrist burn—the one with his name on it.

His name being on your wrist is rather strange; after all, it signifies that you have not one, but two SIAs. Anyone having more than one isn’t common. The first would be the SIA dubbed “In My Shoes” (not your choice in title, that’s just what the GSRA calls it) and the other is “Say My Name.” The second isn’t too harmful (at least in terms of your purpose of never meeting the man) and was most likely the one given to you at birth or one you inherited from him, but the first one is a reason for concern. You haven’t been living in anxiety because of it, however it does loom in the back of your mind. “In My Shoes” is often systematic but how often it occurs isn’t known until it happens a second time. It’s been six years and there’s a good chance that it is a one-off soul aid, which isn’t unhear of.

Back on task you began to rub your wrist in hopes of soothing it. It wasn’t even a few seconds of trying to remedy the burn, when suddenly you felt like you were falling. Your eyes closed in an attempt to not only ground yourself, but to get rid of the feeling. Then, as quickly as it would be to blink your eyes, you opened them to something that wasn’t there a moment ago.

It was a woman with blonde hair and a well-matched lipstick to her black pencil dress. She had bangs that stuck slightly to the sweat of her forehead as she used both hands to convey a stress you didn’t understand. By the looks of it, she was talking, but her words only began to have meaning when you decided to tune in.

“—kill yourself or-or-or wreck the whole company!” She had yelled in frustration, continuing her rant with little mind to what you were doing.

Confusion laced your features at the odd word choice as you attempted to figure out what was going on. Did you know this woman? Did she know you?

You felt exhausted, sweaty, and out of breath. You’ve never run a marathon (never had the time), but this must’ve been what it felt like.

Taking in your surroundings you noticed you were on top of a roof. Not just any roof, but one that was a lot closer to the Stark Expo than you were a moment ago. Now you’re even more confused; how can this be possi—oh yeah, right.

Looking down you saw your body covered in a roughed-up red and yellow piece of metal. It certainly didn’t take a genius to figure out that the “In My Shoes” aid had taken affect. Definitely not at a good time, but was there ever a good time?

‘Fuck my life, man,’ you tiredly thought to yourself.

Trying to gather your thoughts you decided it was best too—did she stop talking? Opening your eyes after subconsciously closing them, you saw her looking at you.

Something in your brain shifted in place as you paused then tentatively asked, “Did I say that out loud?”

She nodded.

Yep, not the worst birthday ever, but it might just make it to spot number three.

A moment of silence passed both of you as words were exchanged between the intense eye contact. Then, before she could say anything, a voice to the left of you said, “You’re not Tony.”

The lady seemed to jump in her skin, equally surprised by the new voice on the roof. Looking towards the source of the statement you saw a man wearing a similar iron body of armor sitting on top of something metal. He seemed to look as tired as you felt.

“Uhh . . .” you quietly muttered, trying to formulate some type of a response.

The woman beside you seemed to almost snicker in realization, “Definitely not Tony.”

“He would’ve had something sarcastic to say by now,” the man added, seeming to continue the woman’s train of thought.

Baffled by the ease of flow in conversation between the two people, you tried to rack your brain to figure out who these individuals are. The one sitting down you may’ve seen on the news, but this other lady was only vaguely familiar.

“My name is Pepper Pots, but Pepper is just fine,” the woman introduced herself, seemingly reading your mind.

Ah, there we go, she was that chick who was almost always by Tony’s side (apart from the models that hung on his arms). There was skepticism that she was his secret lover, but other than that bit of gossip, you hadn’t paid much attention. After all, why keep track of someone’s love life when you have no intent in being a part of it?

Out of instinct you reached out your hand to shake hers and replied, “My name is—”

You stopped before you said anything revealing; then, before you could recoil your metal-covered hand, she took it while saying, “Don’t worry about it. You haven’t come for him after all these years, so I think I get the idea.”

A small smile appeared on your face in appreciation for at least one person to understand without knowing the full story. One time someone asked if you had a soulmate. At the time you decided to be truthful and answer with a simple ‘yes’. Then they started to ask more questions, and by that time you were already in deep, so you had to explain that you willingly chose to stay away from him. They got frustrated and almost mad at your choice. Again, you do not hold a popular perspective on how to approach soulmates. It got particularly scary one time when someone caught a vague glimpse of the “Say My Name” aid and felt inclined to ask about it. At this point you had learned from previous encounters, so you would just tell them it was a ‘trick of the light’ and that you don’t have a soulmate.

Early on you learned that convincing others of a lie is easier than admitting the truth.

“I’m curious,” pried the man on the side. He was sarcastically raising his hand (if that analogy was even possible). “Why haven’t you made contact? Tony said he’d given you his address.”

Here it is, the questions. Except this time it’s not going to be as simple as ‘I don’t have a soulmate.’ These people know who Tony is and you are the only one who can do this body exchange.

Pepper chimed in, “I’m also curious. He was so excited about finding out you existed that by the time he got his mind straight, the only thing he could do was write down an address.”

How innocent, this line of questioning. These people seemed so kind, completely contrasting the allies you’d think Tony would’ve made. It almost implored you to give them the whole story, but something inside you said it would be best to just keep it short. The truth didn’t work well in the past, and the less they know, the harder it is to find you.

Licking your lips, you tasted that strong flavor on his tongue again, just like last time. Similarly, it wasn’t great and reminded you of a bad aftertaste that wouldn’t go away. However, now as an adult, you recognized that aftertaste to be some form of liquor. Alcohol never really tickled your fancy, the substance not tasting too great and being an unnecessary cost was enough of an incentive to ward you away.

How depressing, you’ll need to give these two intrigued individuals a condensed version of your store. And if they are his friends, as you suspect they are, they’re going to turn around and tell him the moment you get back into your body. Then again, maybe this is for the best. Perhaps he will get the hint. So, looking up at these people and trying your best to keep a steady tone, you said without a batted breath, “To be honest, I hate Tony Stark.”

Just like that, the water gates have been busted open. You haven’t ever told anyone your opinions of the man, and certainly not with this kind of context. However, without even seeing their reaction, you blinked, and the scenery changed again. This time you stood in the lobby of the motel with the hardwood floor beneath your fuzzy socks. How did he get down all nine flights of stairs so quickly? If he was trying to get outside, he obviously failed, which did comfort you knowing he was unable to spot any street signs. The only downside will be the journey back up.

Glancing around, you saw the frizzy-haired receptionist from before in front of you looking mildly curious about your antics.

“So, is that everything you needed?” She asked with a lack-luster tone.

Confused, you looked at her for a sign as to what she was talking about, only to feel one of your hands holding onto something. Looking down, you saw a rectangular piece of paper which you held up to your face and analyzed.

It was a business card from the motel. The front displayed the company name, phone number, and address. It was then that the printer in your brain began to print out a new message:

This business card has an address and 22 is not a lucky number.

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daemour · 11 months ago

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Promise - Hongjoong

Part of Anthology

Every two weeks, I will post a drabble (and sometimes longer) alongside a prompt that went with it. The prompts may be songs, scenarios, or more.

M: Hongjoong

Wc: 1874

Warnings: Cursing, arguments

Genre: angst, some fluff, hurt/minimal comfort, e for everyone, established relationship

Summary: An argument with your boyfriend turns into something worse, and you're not sure how to come back from it

Hongjoong works hard, it’s not hard to see. He spends all his time in the studio whenever there’s a comeback, a tour, or an event. It’s commendable, and you love him for it, but it also wears down on your relationship. It’s the fifth time he’s come home late this week, and the other two days he just didn’t show up, sleeping on the work couch. You tried to bring up your worries as peacefully as possible, honest you did. But sleep-deprived and stressed-out Hongjoongs are not known for their patience.

“Hongjoong, I’m just trying to make sure you take care of yourself.” You’re done with this argument, but it appears your boyfriend is not.

“I don’t need you to do that, (Y/N),” Hongjoong bites back. “I’m a grown adult and I can make my own decisions.”

You shake your head, exasperated. “I didn’t imply you were anything else, but why don’t you try acting like a grown adult then?” You’re definitely not helping the argument end, but at this point, you’re quite annoyed at him. “You can’t not take care of yourself and then get mad at me for worrying. I’m not your parent, so stop making me baby you.”

“Then fucking leave,” Hongjoong’s voice comes out cold and you recoil. The two of you have had your fair share of fights, as all couples do, but never before had Hongjoong used that tone on you. No matter how angry he was at you, he wouldn’t ever speak to you like a pest in his life, nor has he ever cursed at you in a serious manner.

“Fine. Fuck you too, then,” you hiss, tears filling your eyes. Without another word, you spin on your heel and leave him standing in the middle of the living room by himself.

As you head down the street with nothing but your phone, you start to regret your decision. It would’ve been more safe and just as impactful if you locked yourself in the bedroom for a few hours. It’s windy and the fall air has a chill to it, and as if to prove your point, you feel drops of rain on the top of your head. As soon as you duck under the roof of a nearby convenience store, it starts to pour and you roll your eyes angrily, the bad weather not helping your anger at all.

After letting the anger stew in your gut for a minute, you pull out your phone with a sigh. You debate calling Hongjoong, but you’re still sore from the fight and would much rather eat grated cardboard than be stuck in a car with him. Your friends are not an option because they’d immediately notice your anger and you can’t tell them about your relationship with Hongjoong, nor do they know you’re even in a relationship in general. So you call the next best option.

“(Y/N)?” What’s up?” Understandably, Wooyoung's voice is full of confusion. You have all of the Ateez members’ numbers in case of emergency, but you’ve never needed to call them aside from Seonghwa once. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m sorry to call you out of the blue, but I got caught in the rain after an argument with Hongjoong and I don’t really want to be in a car with him right now.”

Wooyoung sighs. “I told Seonghwa it was a bad idea to let Hongjoong go home all pissed,” he mutters to himself or another member, you don’t know. “I’ll be right there, okay? Send me your location.”

“Yeah. Thank you,” you sniff and end the call, not wanting to seem even more pitiful than you already feel. One text from Hongjoong glares at your face. ‘This is Yunho. Come back when the storm ends.’ With a scoff, you delete the notification and huffily enter the convenience store.

One iced tea later, Wooyoung walks in, San tagging behind him to no one's surprise. “(Y/N),” San greets you with a smile and it hits you that Hongjoong hadn’t smiled once at you the entire time he was home that day. “Are you doing all right?”

At the kindness you miss seeing from Hongjoong, you break down. San and Wooyoung immediately surround you, wrapping you in their arms and ushering you to the car where you can cry in peace. Once you’ve calmed down enough, you explain everything with the occasional hiccup and sniffle. “I shouldn’t have pushed him, but he’s never said that to me before,” you end with a groan and let your head fall on the back of the passenger seat.

“No, yeah, that was out of line for him to say,” Wooyoung says and San makes a noise of agreement. “I get being tired, we all are and he has worked extra hard, but he shouldn’t take it out on you. He knew he was frustrated, and he should’ve taken some space or even asked you for some space more politely.”

“It wasn’t your fault, (Y/N). You weren’t looking to argue, it only escalated because he snapped,” San reassures you.

You sigh, nodding miserably when your phone dings. This time, Yunho texts you from his own phone. ‘Come back soon…he’s worried and so he’s angrier’ and it’s followed by a couple of emojis. You frown. “Should I go back? Yunho is with him and says he’s angrier cus he’s worried.”

San and Wooyoung exchange a look before Wooyoung speaks up, turning the key in the ignition. “Tell you what, we’ll go with you and if Hongjoong acts out of pocket again, we’ll bring him back to the dorm and get a manager noona to stay the night with you.” And as much as you don’t want to inconvenience one of their staff, you also don’t want to be left alone in the apartment and you begrudgingly agree.

When you walk back in the door, you see Hongjoong pacing the floor with Yunho on the couch attempting to placate him. “Hey guys,” he waves and you smile back and mouth a ‘thank you’ just as Hongjoong registers Yunho’s words.

“Where were you?” Hongjoong whirls around and glares.

“I left, just like you told me to, Joong. Are you ready to to talk like adults now?”

“Don’t lecture me when you went gallivanting into the rain with your holier-than-thou attitude,” Hongjoong starts to argue again but San’s low, dangerous voice interrupts.

“Finish that thought and you’ll have more pressing things to worry about, hyung. You’re coming back to the dorm. Now.”

Hongjoong scoffs. “You can’t kick me out of my own apartment,” he glowers, crossing his arms.

You’ve had quite enough. “They can’t but I can. Get out, Hongjoong. You’ve relentlessly insulted me and I do not deserve the attitude you think I do. Go to the dorms and cool down and don’t come back until you’re ready to act your age. The lease is in my name, I can and will kick you out right now, Kim Hongjoong.”

You’re tired, and you exit the room without another word, slamming the bedroom door behind you. You hear murmurs in the hallway and the faint noise of footsteps fades. A knock sounds on your door and you recognise Yunho’s voice. “I’m sorry about him, (Y/N). He’s been testy for the past few weeks. I called our manager to come and I’ll leave once she gets here. Take care of yourself and I beg of you, please don’t hate him.”

His voice fades and you can’t bring yourself to say anything. Your thoughts swirl in your head, confusion, hurt, all of the above. And once you hear the quiet mumblings of Yunho and the manager silence, you let the tears spill out of your eyes and you fall asleep soon after.

When you awaken the sun is up and you can hear the manager talking with someone in quiet tones. You’re somewhat sure of who it is, but you’re not sure you want to deal with that. It appears you’re going to have to, however, as the door closes and you hear familiar footsteps walking down the hall. Grumpily, you cover yourself with the blanket and do your best to pretend to sleep.

“(Y/N)? Can we talk?” You don’t grace him with a response but he’s known you for too long to fall for your acting. “I know you’re awake.”

“There’s not much to talk about,” you mumble under your breath but he hears you anyway and the bed dips as he sits beside your body.

"There's a lot to talk about, (Y/N)," Hongjoong's voice is quiet. "Let me lead with this—I'm sorry."

You tighten your grip on the covers. "Are you sorry or are you just trying to suck up to me? This isn't something we can just gloss over."

Hongjoong laughs sullenly. "Yes, Seonghwa made sure I understood that clearly," he sighs and you can't help but smile to yourself at the thought of Seonghwa reprimanding his leader. "You know, Jongho threatened me?"

You manage a chuckle. "That I can believe."

A hand rests on where he guessed your head to be and you don't shake off the touch. "But aside from that, I really am sorry. I had no right to take my anger out on you or lash out, especially like that. You didn't deserve that." Hongjoong still speaks softly, solemnly. "I know I hurt you and I promise to do all I can to remedy that."

You pull the covers down a little to peek at him. "My anger waned a while ago, Joong. I'm more hurt than anything and I hope for your sake and mine that you never do it again."

Hongjoong nods and you can see the sincerity in his eyes. "I promise you, I'll hold you tight always."

Bonus:

"Hongjoong, I hope you know how immensely disappointed I am in you. " Seonghwa's glare and his crossed arms are what greet Hongjoong at the entrance into the dorm. Hongjoong groans but Seonghwa just shakes his head and the leader silences. "For someone chosen to be a leader, you do a shit job under stress."

"I know you're mad, but you will give me respect," Hongjoong hisses at the sound of Seonghwa cursing, but the oldest member tsks.

"Well, now you know exactly what you put poor (Y/N) through, and she handled it a hell of a lot better than you did." The rest of the members' heads peek around the corner to stare at the rare sight of Hongjoong getting scolded and the leader has half a mind to tell them off but Seonghwa's having none of that. "I want you to ruminate on the damage you caused to your relationship, and apologise first thing in the morning. (Y/N) loves you, Hongjoong, and you better work hard to prove you deserve it."

At Seonghwa's tone, Hongjoong finally slips out of the daze he's been in all day and his eyes widen. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

Seonghwa nods. "You did. Fix it the best you can and I'm sure she will forgive you."

"I peomise I will," Hongjoong declares and Seonghwa smiles but his arms remain crossed.

"You tell her that. I don't need to hear it."

#pirateeznet #kvanity #wkcnet #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong fanfiction

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6rookie-writer0110 · 2 years ago

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Fools for Love

Hailee Steinfeld x Male Reader

Request - Hailee Steinfeld x famous!male!reader where they were together for 2 years but then Hailee broke up with y/n after an argument, but she intintinly regretted it. They didn't see each other for 2 months and Hailee found out that y/n is dating again with someone for less then a week. Hailee comes to y/n to apologize for what happen 2 months ago and tells him that she still loves him, he responds to her that he still loves her too.

You went to the apartment that you share with Hailee. But once you go inside, you are speechless, Hailee’s clothes and items are gone. You take out your cell phone and you called her.

“What do you want, Y/n?” Hailee asked.

“Are you serious!? You just moved out and didn't tell me!” You yelled.

“Because you are being a fucking jerk!” Hailee yelled.

“You didn't even bother to tell me that you are moving out!! Yet it's really mature of you to move out without telling me anything!” You yelled again.

“It's over, Y/n! I-”

“So that's it!? You will just run away from the problem instead of fixing it!?” You yelled.

“Whatever, Y/n. You did the same thing before you just run away instead of talking about it. I'm doing the same thing just like you. Don't call me!” Hailee said.

She hung up the call, you tried to call her but she didn't answer. You are still feeling angry and Hailee blocked your phone number.

You and Hailee have been arguing for weeks, and this time it got too much for you two. Hailee had enough that she moved out without telling you and you are feeling heartbroken. You didn't expect Hailee to move out and dump you over the phone. You and Hailee have been dating for a long time now. Everyone knows that you're her boyfriend.

You sit down on the couch, you trying to process what happened. You sighed and called your best friend, you tell him what happened.

Hailee moved in with her parents temporarily. She talks to her mom about what happened to the relationship. She hugged Hailee and starts to comfort her.

----

1 week later... You and Hailee are being stubborn and haven't texted or called each other. She has been busy filming a new show and you have been working hard on your new movie.

“Did you see that Y/n is dating someone new?” Hailee’s friend Sarah said.

“What?” Hailee said.

Sarah showed her the picture of you and your new girlfriend at a basketball game.

“Apparently, it says they have been dating for a while,” Sarah said.

“Can't believe he is already dating someone else” Hailee said sadly.

“What a jerk, I can't believe it was so easy for him to move on,” Sarah said.

“Look at her! She is gorgeous” Hailee said.

“Her name is Ana de Armas,” Sarah said.

“He doesn't care anymore and he just moved on,” Hailee said.

“That’s why you need to date another guy. Forget about him, he didn't even text or call you,” Sarah said.

“I don't know,” Hailee said.

“Just forget about him,” Sarah said.

A few days later, she kept seeing pictures inline you and Ana being together at events and dates. She does start to feel jealous and she started to read the rumors about you and Ana. She wasn't sure if she should believe the rumors of how madly in love you are with Ana. Hailee starts to check out Ana’s Instagram profile and she did post some pictures of you and her at fashion week in France.

But lately, Hailee has been feeling sick. She has been feeling nauseous and has been throwing up a lot. She went to the doctor and found out she is two months pregnant, she starts to freak out. Her mind starts to race and she hasn't told anyone about the pregnancy.

She went home to be alone and think about what to do. Later, she gets a call from her brother but she doesn't tell him about the pregnancy.

“He broke up with his new girlfriend,” He said.

“Y/n?” Hailee said.

“Yeah, I'm talking about him. He is single now” He said.

“But he is dating Ana,” Hailee said.

“He said in an interview that he is single that him and Ana are just friends. I just called you to let you know” He said.

“Sarah said I should move on from him,” Hailee said.

“Yeah, she never liked him. Look, if you still want to be with him then go talk to him. But if you are sure that you don't want to be with him then just move on with your life. Mom and dad can’t tell you who to date, just date whoever you want” He said.

“Thanks. I will let you know later, what I'm going to do” Hailee said.

“Good luck,” He said.

They hung up and Hailee starts to think about what to do.

✬ ✯ ✫ ✯

Hailee went to see you on the set of your new movie Ghosted. You are in your trailer and she didn't tell you that she was coming to see you.

“We need to talk, Y/n” Hailee said.

“About what?” You asked.

“Less than a week we broke you are already dating, Ana! What it was easy for you to move on that quickly?” Hailee said.

“I was-”

She didn't let you finish your sentence, she started to talk again.

“Did you even care!?” Hailee asked.

“We dated for two years, if I didn't care I wouldn't have been with you for that long. You broke up with me” You said.

“Because we kept on arguing for weeks, I got tired of it,” Hailee said.

“And you think I enjoyed us arguing every day?” You asked.

“Do you still have feelings for me? don't lie” Hailee said.

“Yes, I'm still in love with you. I only dated Ana to make you jealous. She knew what my plan was” You said.

“Are you serious?” Hailee asked.

“Yeah, I wanted to make you jealous,” You said.

You moved closer to her and wrapped your arms around her. You kissed her but she didn't kiss you back.

“Y/n, I have to tell you something,” Hailee said.

You start to kiss her and she starts to kiss you back. But she pulls away and she has her hand on your cheek.

“I’m pregnant, Y/n” Hailee said.

You kissed her again and she stopped you.

“I’m happy,” You said.

“Really? Because I'm freaking out that I'm pregnant” Hailee said.

You kissed her then you wrapped your arms around her tight for comfort. You feel her arms around you and she starts to cry, you keep holding her and you gently rub her back.

----

You rented out a restaurant just for you and Hailee. You bought her flowers and she loved them. You and Hailee start to talk about the relationship and the baby.

“So does this mean we are officially back together?” You asked.

“Things have to change if we are getting back together and I'm serious,” Hailee said.

“I understand. I wasn't in love with Ana, she was part of the fake relationship” You said.

“It did make me jealous which I hate to admit. Don't smirk, Y/n” Hailee said.

You couldn’t help to smirk and you drink your water. You and Hailee continued to talk about the relationship.

✬ ✯ ✫ ✯

You and Hailee are sitting on the couch and she is online looking at baby cribs and she saw cute animals on the blanket.

“You are making it hard to just pick one,” You said.

“You can't blame me. They are all so cute! Look at this Winnie the pooh set. I'm, Y/n we need to get this” Hailee said.

Then she went to a different section, she is looking at pajamas for the baby. Each one has cute animals and she is having a hard time picking one.

“What about this one? It's cute it has ducks” Hailee said.

“Let me guess, you are going to get it?” You said.

“Yes, and I will use your credit card” Hailee smiled.

She leans and kissed you on the lips.

#hailee steinfeld imagine #hailee steinfeld x reader #Hailee Steinfeld x male reader #x male reader #male!reader #male reader

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sillyhahasilly · 3 months ago

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Caldre yuri sleepovers??

What would they do, what games would callie like, would andrea make her sleep on the floor?

that kinda thing would be rlly cute!!

omg such a good idea!!! thx anon xx

I already think that caldre would sleep over all the time in canon, but this would happen even more if they were yuri. Sleepovers literally every weekend, sometimes during some weekdays if their parents are feeling nice. Picture the amount of time the girls spent together in the movie Thriteen, if ur familar. I think caldre as girls would feel free to spend that time together without toxic masculinity and the norm for female friendships.

They would mostly sleepover at Andrea's house because she doesn't have any younger siblings to bother them. At first, that's all they ever did. When they sleep over there, they spent more time inside the house and in Andrea's room and basement. Especially the basement. The basement is their hangout spot to do pretty much anything. Almost all of the Zero Day planning happened down there. That is were they spend the night together usually, too. Andrea sleeps on an old couch and Cal (I think Callie would still use the nickname), sleeps on couch cushions that they pull off the couch from its back, flush with where Andrea sleeps. So, yeah, Andrea makes her sleep on the floor. Sometimes Cal does bully Andrea into switching with her, or she falls asleep on the couch and Andrea just can't bring herself to move her. They only sleep in Andrea's room if they have been out all day and are too tired to set up the basement. Their, they both share the bed.

Andrea's parents are always so welcoming and like another home to Cal, but Andreas mom still came to Andrea one night to say that it's getting too much. Andrea, obv, was pissed and said some things that got them banned from any out of school hangouts for a week. But afterward, Andrea asked, "what if we went to Cal's instead?" and her mom couldn't argue w that.

So, they started to sleepover there on occasion. When they plan on staying the night at Cal's house, they typically go out because of Cal's siblings. That could be anything from walking in circles at the park for hours or lying to parents that they are going to hangout with other people so they can walk around in circles for hours AND mess w people or... I don't think they would do much lol. They spent a lot of time just being with each other, talking and planning and being losers lowkey. They both share Cal's twin bed to sleep and end up cuddling a lot. They pretend that the reason they haven't figured out a separate makeshift bed for Andrea to sleep in while she's over is not bc they enjoy sleeping so close but bc they are js lazy.

They do drugs a lot during sleepovers. Mainly weed but sometimes they get drunk if Andrea can get her hands on something. At Andrea's house they get high late at night in the basement. At Cal's they get high in some unused park and walk home when it has mostly worn off.

For sleepover activities that I haven't yet mentioned... they talk so much shit. They talk shit all the time but there is something special about talking shit at a girl sleepover. If you know you know. They play lots of video games together late into the night. Watch movies in Andrea's basement on a VHS player... mostly shitty horror or suspense. They rewatch their favorites a lot together when there is nothing else to say. Cal would like the video games a lot. I think she would try to get Andrea to play stupid slumber party games like spin the bottle (esp if they are intoxicated already) and truth or dare. To which Andrea responds that they are the only 2 people here, you fucking idiot.

I've written this in my prev caldre yuri posts, that Cal once messed up her hair really bad with box dye but Andrea helped her fix it with loads of clarifying shampoo. I think both events happened at one of their sleepovers.

They can get pretty touchy with eachother late at night. Leaning on, laying on, sometimes even full on cuddling that was not the result of sleep. Cal plays with Andrea's hair a lot too.

#i luv toxic codependent homoerotic yuri relationships #idk how i feel abt this lol #caldre #zero day #zero day 2003 #cal gabriel #andre kriegman #genderbent au #fluff hc

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nancypullen · 1 year ago

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Another Sunday

Welp, I made it through another week without killing or being killed, so...success! I have the Sunday night dreads, remember that feeling as a kid? I haven't posted about work or much of anything because I feel like I've been negative lately. No one likes that. I'm usually the seeker of silver linings and cheerleader for the team/family, so I don't like being a downer. I know my role, and until I get back in the groove, I'll shut up about all of it, mmmkay? Today we drove to Easton for an author talk and it was absolutely fascinating. David George Haskell, an evolutionary biologist and winner of all sorts of awards for his writings (two time Pulitzer finalist!) was speaking at The Avalon Theater about his book, Sounds Wild and Broken.

Biologist and nature writer David George Haskell has spent his career reminding us to pay closer attention to nature. In his latest book, Sounds Wild and Broken, which was nominated for a 2022 Pulitzer Prize in general nonfiction, Haskell turns his considerable perceptive powers to “Earth’s fraying soundtrack”—the planet’s orchestral richness, which is being increasingly blocked out by human noise. Haskell will deliver a book talk and play some recordings of nature’s most wondrous sounds in the Avalon Theatre.

It was so, so good. I took notes and now I want to read all of his books. He is an absolute artist with words, and managed to make some very scientific topics digestible for us common folks. His phrasing made me swoon, he could make insects seem magical. Even Mickey admitted to getting a little choked up a couple of times when he spoke of "primal sounds" - sounds that are unchanged from millions of years ago. We hear the ocean or a waterfall the same way that our Neanderthal ancestors did. I think you had to be there to hear and feel the impact. I'm not doing any of it justice. We had a lot to talk about on the way home and I'll be thinking of this for a long, long time. I've been reading rave reviews about his book The Songs of Trees, I may have to grab that one too. Don't judge his work by my poor attempt at sharing here - check it out! Another big (and important!!) event coming up is the grandgirl's SIXTH birthday. Can you believe it? Seems like just yesterday I was passing out pink tootsie pops and telling everyone I met, "It's a girl!" Now she's her own little person with friends, report cards, and a desire to see Disney on Ice. That's where she's going next weekend with her bestie that lives two houses down from her. I would not be at all surprised if they attend in full princess regalia, tiaras and all. Grancy has her birthday surprises ready and I think I covered all of the bases - dress-up, books, a little magic (Magic Mixie Pixlings), clothes,etc. If she didn't already have two cats I'd get her a kitten too. Think they'd notice a pony in the back yard? I should stop. After we celebrate Little Miss turning six, we'll celebrate my first baby turning thirty-nine. Thirty-nine. How did that happen? Matthew has been a joy to me every day of his life. That isn't an exaggeration. Thirty-nine years of being a mother went really fast. My youngest baby is thirty-five. Same level of joy. Those two made my whole life worthwhile. There's not a single day I'd give back. We were always sort of the Three Musketeers, we've been poor together, laughed until we cried together, had adventures - some even on purpose. Okay, I got sidetracked. I was talking about Matt's birthday. Since he's in Minneapolis we rarely get to celebrate with him and that makes me really sad. I hate the idea of him working all day and then heading home to an empty house on his birthday. Oh, he's got wonderful friends, but it's not the same. Before I started at the library we'd talked about flying out to see him and have some birthday fun. Of course that isn't possible for me now, but Mickey is going to zip out to Minneapolis for a guy's weekend and I couldn't be happier. They'll probably fill the hours with weird stuff that wouldn't interest me - like watching a bunch of war movies and eating a lot of beef. As long as Matt has a happy birthday, that's a win. Gosh, it's almost 9 o'clock. We're watching the Grammy Awards and I'm quite pleased that we recognize so many performers. That's not always the case. When we were young we swore that we'd never be those old folks who didn't listen to popular music, but here we are. I listen to about a third of what's new, maybe not even that much. You get to an age where you just don't care - you like what you like and you don't care what else is out there. Kind of like my fashion choices at work - everyone else still wears gray, black, somber clothing. I show up daily in my pink and ruffled nonsense. It's February so tomorrow I'm adding big ol' heart earrings to the mix. I. DON'T. CARE. I'm the granny in the building anyway, might as well write my reputation in stone.

I have the biggest hair in the building, the brightest clothes, and the loudest laugh. I gotta' be me.

I'll end this scatterbrained post with a bit of good news. The mister and I have made a decision about our anniversary trip. It'll likely be in October and we'll head to the Alsace region of France. It's a stunningly beautiful area where France, Germany, and Switzerland bump noses. After bouncing around a lot of idea and doing a bit of research it's a place we're both excited to see. We'll likely fly into Paris and take a train to either Colmar of Strasbourg as a base for our explorations. That means that we'll probably spend a couple of days at the end of the trip back in Paris. That thrills me. I need to see the Eiffel Tower sparkling at night again and make another trek up to Montmartre. Isn't that a whole bunch of wonderful to look forward to? It certainly is in my world. Alright, I've let you all know that I'm still alive. I'll try to blog more often (looong week ahead, no promises) and to make it lighter than it's been recently. No more whining. Well, not as much anyway. Sending out lots of love tonight, take as much as you need. Heck, take a little extra and spread it around. Stay safe, stay well. XOXO, Nancy

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fyodoro · 1 year ago

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Phew… okay. I think this is the longest I’ve went without posting a single thing? Yikes. Life has not been easy lately (as mentioned a few posts down) and my mind has been all over the place. Everything below the cut goes into rant/vent territory (sorry)

If you aren’t reading that, just know I’m still on a writing break but will be back soon!

My dad’s funeral was Tuesday, so that was rough. Before that I was trying to convince myself this was all a weird dream and I’d wake up soon, and alas that never happened. My dad was like my best friend, I went to him for everything. My mom is a good mom, but my dad always tried harder and took me places whenever he could. Although my mom is definitely stepping up more than before now, thankfully.

He was the best dad I could have ever asked for and I really really miss him and I’m really upset I’ll have to grow up without a father from here on out. But he taught me what he could while he could and made the best memories with me and my siblings. Visiting the crash site where he died was not a pretty site, and the state of his car will never leave my brain. But I know he’d want me to carry on no matter what, and I don’t wanna disappoint him.

So that’s the main reason for my hiatus, that and a few other things. I’m still not enrolled in school? Where I live school doesn’t start till early/mid September so I’m not missing anything yet but still… kinda stressful? I want good classes okay? This is my sophomore year and umm there’s plenty to worry for this year so I’d like to stress when school starts and not before.!..??.?.!..!.!

As for when I’ll come back with the event and writing… soon! I’m thinking another week from now? Maybe two. Maybe even earlier if I’m motivated (doesn’t matter if I’m in a good mood or not). I genuinely love writing and it’s one of my favorite hobbies, it’s not something that’s gonna die just cuz my dad did (lol). But of course I have much more important things to worry about before I get back to writing, y’know?

So many things to keep up with… but I’ll manage. Thank you for your patience with requests and the event though. Unfortunately the timing sucks, but I’m sure if none of this happened I’d have it finished by now. Thanks for understanding! Here’s pics of my kitten Link (i have no idea if we’re keeping him anymore tho since he was at my dad’s)

#cw death

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lenbryant · 2 years ago

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Long Post....Oops. LOL. "Fatuous claptrap" for the win! Thanks, Hiltzik.

(Hiltzik in the LA Times)

Elon Musk hosted Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis on Twitter for DeSantis’ announcement of his presidential candidacy.

It went about as well as the April 20 launch of a rocket by Musk’s SpaceX, which ended in an explosion that destroyed the spacecraft.(Patrick T. Fallon / AFP via Getty Images)

- - - - - - -

I was taking my customary siesta Wednesday afternoon when I was jolted awake by the sound of a truck straining to go uphill. Come to discover that I had my computer tuned to Elon Musk’s Twitter, where Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis was struggling to get out the official announcement of his candidacy for president.

The noise turned out to be Musk trying to get the thing to work in real time, amid feedback, weird musical interludes and long stretches of silence. Scheduled to start at 3 p.m. Pacific time, it finally got going on Twitter Spaces, an audio-only application on the platform, about 18 minutes late. I listened, so you don’t have to. You’re welcome.

As he struggled to resolve repeated glitches in Twitter Spaces, Musk and the moderator, a Musk acolyte named David Sacks, kept trying to assert that the technical screw-up was, in fact, a triumph brought about by the large audience. (Sacks claimed that more than 300,000 users had logged in.) “We are melting the servers, which is a good sign,” Sacks said early on.

You can’t have a free society unless we have the freedom to debate the most important issues that are affecting our civilization.

— Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis, who has been trying to punish Walt Disney Co. for speaking out against his education law

This reminded many listeners of the claim by SpaceX, another Musk venture, that its April 20 launch of a prototype rocket, which ended with the vehicle exploding in flight four minutes after lift-off, was a success. Never mind that the launch destroyed the launchpad, showered a neighboring community with debris and prompted the Federal Aviation Administration to mount a major investigation.

Once it got underway, the Twitter event unfolded as a love fest between DeSantis and Musk. The general theme was what my mother used to describe as “I like me, who do you like?”

Musk and DeSantis praised each other for their dedication to free speech, and Sacks brought on several right-wing sophists to add their voices. They included Jay Bhattacharya, one of the drafters of the Great Barrington Declaration, which, as I reported this week, advocated letting the COVID virus run rampant through the population in quest of the elusive goal of “herd immunity” — at the cost of hundreds of thousands of American lives.

Another was Rep. Thomas Massie (R-Ky.), whose claim to fame on a national scale was issuing a Christmas tweet in 2021 showing himself, his wife and their five kids brandishing assault weapons. “Santa, pls bring ammo,” the tweet read. (In December 2021, there were 39 mass shootings in the U.S., taking 36 lives and wounding 160.)

DeSantis said Florida was safer than blue-state cities, where “you got kids more likely to get shot than to receive a first-class education.” A reminder: One of the worst school shootings in American history took place in Parkland, Fla., in February 2018, when 17 people were killed and 17 injured. In April, DeSantis signed a law allowing Floridians to carry guns without a permit.

It would be wrong to say there weren’t some lighthearted moments during the Twitter event. Unfortunately for DeSantis, the best joke came from President Biden: While Musk was struggling to get the event launched, Biden posted a tweet that read, “This link works,” pointing to a fund-raising site for the Biden-Harris campaign.

If you were looking for policy prescriptions from the freshly minted candidate, you didn’t hear anything new. Put it this way: If you were at a party where you had to down a shot of whiskey every time DeSantis uttered the word “woke,” you were reduced to insensibility within ten or twenty minutes. If the drinking game included a shot when DeSantis took a shot at “the legacy media,” you may have needed to get your stomach pumped.

Other than that, it was a festival of cynical lies and rank hypocrisies uttered by DeSantis.

He spoke up for free speech and open debate, for instance. “People should be exposed to different viewpoints,” he said. “You can’t have a free society unless we have the freedom to debate the most important issues that are affecting our civilization.”

This is the guy who has waged a ferocious battle with Walt Disney Co. because Disney had spoken out against his “Don’t Say Gay” law, which stifles the teaching of gender issues in the schools.

When Sacks primed him with a question about the fight with Disney, DeSantis replied, “We believe jamming gender ideology in elementary school is wrong; Disney obviously supported injecting gender ideology in elementary school.” He added that Disney’s “corporate culture had really been outed as trying to inject matters of sex into the programming for the youth.” One doesn’t have to be a fan of Disney to see that as fatuous claptrap.

DeSantis also dismissed accusations that Florida is a hotbed of book-banning as “a hoax.” All his administration has done, he said, has been “to empower parents with the ability to review the curriculum, to know what books are being used in school.” That’s one way of looking at it.

The right way is to observe that he’s empowered a tiny cadre of reactionary activists to force books they don’t like off the shelves of Florida schools. As the Washington Post reported Wednesday, a majority of the complaints about schoolbooks nationwide have come from just 11 complainants. Florida ranks second among the states in the number of schoolbook challenges, after Texas.

By the way, one of the Republican toadies DeSantis appointed to the board created to oversee Disney’s development district (as part of his retaliation against the company) is Bridget Ziegler, co-founder of the right-wing censorship-happy organization Moms for Liberty.

When Bhattacharya came online, DeSantis took the opportunity to boast about his success against the COVID pandemic. The truth is that Florida’s record is one of abject, lethal failure. Florida’s COVID death rate of 411 per 100,000 population is the 10th worst in the nation. DeSantis has appointed Bhattacharya to a state panel investigating federal COVID policy.

DeSantis claimed to have based his COVID policies on his determination to “look at the data.... There was a concerted effort to try to stifle dissent.” This can only be interpreted as some kind of gag. DeSantis installed a COVID crackpot, Joseph Ladapo, as Florida’s surgeon general.

Ladapo has promoted useless anti-COVID nostrums such as ivermectin, and counseled against the COVID vaccines. “Looking at the data”? As the Tampa Bay Times has reported, based on official state documents, Ladapo deliberately removed data from an official state report on the vaccines that contradicted his claim that the vaccines were unsafe for young men; in fact, studies show that the vaccines are far safer for them than being infected by the virus.

The event ended with a paean by Musk and DeSantis to cryptocurrency, which is tantamount to enticing innocent small investors into immolating their nest eggs in a scam.

“We should do it again,” DeSantis said in closing the feed. “We’ll make sure that we come back and do it again. This is a great platform.”

We shall see. The next DeSantis appearance on Twitter could be just as buggy, or worse. All that we can be sure of is that whatever happens, Elon Musk will deem it a great success.

#fatuous claptrap #politics #maga me sick #maga #republicans #desantis #rhonda santis #2024

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leilani-and-kass · 4 years ago

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“No matter where they are... I know Mother and Kai and Chief Makai and everyone in my tribe are with me, and I just have to have hope that I’ll see them again someday. And... and that I’ll continue meeting other nice Pokemon!! It’s just... sometimes, it can be pretty hard to remember that not all Pokemon are as mean as Kass.”

“When I was at this water park place, a friend of mine told me that sometimes bad things that happen to you could help you enjoy the smaller things in life. Or something like that. And that’s what this place and this “Valley-Times” day thing are for me and maybe the other Pokemon here, too. If only for a little tiny bit I can be here with friendlier Pokemon and talk and play and eat some yummy food... then I’m happy enjoying the smaller things in life when I can.”

“... It’s just too bad it can’t last forever and forever, but then, Mother did tell us once that nothing is forever.”

@asktheisle

@phantomguild

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sweeethinny · 2 years ago

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Hinny Fest - Day 17

''We're locked in.'' - day seventeen

because I saw a post on instagram and wanted to write something similar

@hinnyfest

Ginny was stressed, with all those hormones boiling inside her like a cauldron over a fire, it made her more and more nervous.

And going to the Ministry event wasn't helping her mood.

She wanted to go out, but not to go there, she wanted to go out for dinner, maybe have a pizza, buy something at that clothing store she always saw but never went in... But no, they were going to the Ministry event.

When she tried for the third time on another dress – which didn't look good on her big belly – Ginny gave up, she was going half naked to this event and she didn't care what people thought of her! They would have to accept that when each week she was getting more fat because she was carrying a child inside her, she had the right not to wear clothes.

As soon as she thought that, she sighed and went back to rummaging through her wardrobe, as she knew she couldn't go half naked even if she wanted to.

After finding something that Harry managed to close, the two left the house, he was quiet and for the first time Ginny didn't care much, she was stressed and didn't want to make things worse by fighting with her husband, who hadn't done anything, on the way to an event that was sure to be stressful enough.

People kept touching her without asking, putting their hand and talking to her belly when Ginny didn't even know them!

When Harry parked the car in front of the event and helped her down, she already saw that the front door was closed and the guards didn't seem willing to open it for them. Excellent! She had dressed up for nothing!

''We are locked. How wonderful, we're locked out!'' Ginny rolled her eyes irritably, already wanting to sit down on the floor right there and start crying. Harry needed to be there and because of her they were late, because instead of going to get ready Ginny preferred to sleep half an hour which ended up becoming two, and when she woke up she already needed to get ready and now they were out!

Harry had even put on a suit!

''Too bad,'' Harry said, grimacing.

''We can ask the guards, I'm sure someone inside can ask them to open it and -''

‘'Too bad, we'll have to leave,’' Harry put an arm around her shoulders, spinning them back towards the car.

''But Harry-''

''What a sad thing, I was so looking forward to it,'' He helped her back into the car, running to the driver's side. ''Couldn't be sadder.''

''Harry.'' Ginny caught his eye.

‘’We’re an hour late, it will be over soon anyway,’’ He shrugged.

''No, we're half an hour late,'' He denied.

''The event started at eight.'' Ginny's eyes widened. ‘’Yes, I let you sleep long enough for us to be late. Now… are we going to eat pizza?”

#hinny #hinnyfest #harry x ginny #day 17 #30daysprompts #my fic

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ghoste-catte · 3 years ago

Note

I was curious what advice would you give to someone new to writing fics? I've been wanting to get back into it but haven't seriously written something since high school. I hope this isn't an annoying question or anything!

Not an annoying question at all! I'm just a little worried that I won't have terribly good or useful advice. To be honest, I also sort of stopped writing in earnest right as I finished high school, and didn't pick it back up until my late 20s. It's certainly an adjustment! But I think the few things that really helped me get back into writing fic as a hobby and something I spend quite a bit of time on would be:

Write for yourself first, then find your other motivations. My original inspiration in getting back into fic writing was that there just were not that many fics I liked for my favorite pairing, and I wanted more of them, and I especially wanted more with the tropes and characterizations I wanted to see. I think at the very core of anything you need that internal spark that drives you. At the same time, for me at least, if I just relied on my own drive, I would not get much done; I need some external guardrails. So having people send prompts, or writing for particular events, or writing stuff for friends really helps me to get my ass in gear and finish stuff. That may not be the perfect motivator for you, and that's fine! You just gotta figure out what is.

Be open to inspiration. Anything and everything can be spun out into a story with the right tweaking. Obviously stuff like music is a classic inspiration source, but I've also pulled ideas from poetry, from memes, from Reddit threads, from YouTube videos, from rambling conversations on Discord and from real life to make fics out of. So many times, someone will post a silly Twitter screencap, and I'll think, There's a fic in this. And a lot of the time, there is! Research is a wonderful thing, but so is serendipity. If you're out there actively looking for ideas, eventually one that you like will stumble past you.

Find your community. I can genuinely say I never would have finished more than one fic if I didn't have fandom friends to talk to about even stupid headcanons, to bounce ideas off of, and to encourage me (and to encourage them in turn!). Discord has been a godsend, and some of my closest online friends are people I met in the GaaLee discord server. As I've gotten more comfortable as a writer, I've also joined general writing servers and Reddit communities and have found them immensely helpful on both a motivational level (bingos, sprints, owe-me challenges) and on a craft level (plot workshopping and writing ethics and live grammar help). It's a lot easier to think about fic ideas and hash through problem moments when I have a constant stream of fandom-related chatter coming from the little people who live in my phone! Ao3 is an amazing website, and it's great as, well, an archive, but it isn't social media by design. If you want conversation and human connection and cheerleading, you've gotta forge out and find it.

Make it a habit ... If you want to produce anything longer than a couple hundred words, you really have to set aside time for it. And writing is just like knitting or dirt biking or painting little model figurines: the more you do it, the more easily it comes. When I was first getting back into the proper swing of things, I committed myself to 30 minutes of writing per week. Just 30 minutes. I didn't even hit that goal every week, but there were tons of weeks I got on a roll and went over that amount, and by the end of the year I'd written over 200,000 words. I used to spend an hour laboriously tip-tapping out 200 words, but now I can easily blow through 1k in a 50 minute sprint. It's all about training that muscle.

... But don't make it a chore. With fanfic, you aren't doing this as a job, and you aren't ultimately doing it for anyone other than you. That means you can take breaks when you need them, you can set deadlines and then fail to meet them, you can write stuff and then decide to never post it. When you start getting burnt out, when the practice loses the joy and energy, stop. There's no 'hustle' here. In our capitalist society we're so trained to push past our limits and keep going even when it hurts us, but the hobby you do for connection and relaxation and whatever else shouldn't be like that.

Ignore metrics. Sometimes stuff isn't gonna get hits, or kudos, or comments. There are some basic 'rules' as to the stuff that does and doesn't get traction, but every time you post something it's a roll of the dice. If you're focused on watching that kudos counter tick up, you will get bummed out fast. And any writer will tell you that the stuff you think is your best work will never be the stuff that gets the most accolades. So you have to find something else to give you a sense of success. For me, it's watching my wordcount go up in my stats and those occasional comments where someone has a lot to say and that one person who always leaves me a <3 emoji (and, shout out to @egregiousderp, having someone to have long one-on-one conversations with about the stuff that never made it to page).

Don't strive for perfection. It's really easy to want your first ever fic to be a complete showstopper, the best fic fandom has ever seen, hitting all the tropes and the ideas and the characterization that you just know fandom is missing and would be everyone's top favorite if only it was written. This is a trap. No one fic can be all things. Most people who want to write an epic as their very first venture will not see the end of that epic, because they haven't put in the practice hours to make something on that scale work. That's not to say you can't start out with a big, sprawling multichap, just don't expect it to be the greatest thing since sliced bread if you're just starting out, and be okay with abandoning it for greener pastures if you get to that point. Think of the first time someone makes a vase out of clay or bakes a loaf of bread. That's never their best vase or their best bread. If they keep up with it, they'll make more and better vases and loaves. Likewise, your first fic is probably not gonna be your best fic. See it for what it is: your launchpad.

You can't edit an empty page, but you can over-edit a full one. This kind of spins off of #7, but if the words aren't there, you can't fix them. Daydreams and headcanons are fantastic (and god, how many times have I wished for a speech-to-text engine that projected my falling asleep thoughts onto a Google doc for later perusal), but they aren't fic. If you want to write fic, you've gotta get comfortable with the idea of sloppy outlines and rough first drafts. You can't build a house without a frame and you can't build a man without a skeleton (I mean, you can, I guess, but he'd be one floppy man). The nice thing about fic is that it doesn't matter if that frame is structurally unsound or the skeleton has 18 too many bones, you can clean that up in the editing process. But you can't start hanging curtains and arranging furniture in something that doesn't even have walls. That's the process. But! Also know when to set down the editor's pen and say, "Okay, this is good enough for government work", and call it done. ("Done" doesn't have to mean "posted", but it does mean, "I'm done picking at this for now, and I'm gonna go write some more stuff".) Over-editing can make stuff seem laborious and forced, and it prevents you from actually improving. To continue belaboring the house metaphor, you can spend your whole life rearranging furniture in just one room, but the end result of that is a pretty narrow existence and a room with a lot of footprints and tracks in the carpet.

Write shit down. When you have ideas, jot them down--in a notebook, in a Google Doc, in the Notes app of your phone, in pen on the back of your hand. You think you will remember that brilliant line of dialogue or sparkling snippet of narration or genius plot that came to you in a dream, but you Will Not. Write it down. Write it down. Write it down! There have been so many times when a fic was completely saved by past!me having written down my shower thoughts about what happens next in the fic, that present!me had completely forgotten about and was floundering over.

Have fun with it! Try different stuff. Try stupid stuff. Try experimental stuff. Do stuff you've never done before that you aren't sure will work. It's important to get comfortable with your niche (for example, I know I'm never going to be the sort of person who writes intricate plots of intrigue or super long 100k epics or detailed battles), but you can't find that niche unless you explore lots of different niches! Figure out what you love and what you absolutely hate, and then keep doing the stuff you love.

Okay, so that was actually TEN things, but ... I hope you still found this helpful. Feel free to send another ask if any of this was confusing or unclear. Good luck with your fic writing and, if you want, send me a link to what you've written once you've written it! I'd love to read it.

#answered #anonymous #writing advice #i guess?#am i qualified to give this?#no #but im doing it anyway

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junko-and-riri-domain · 4 years ago

Text

˚₊·˚ “babes” | ot7 ˚₊·˚

↬ pairing: ot7 x reader ↬ genre: fluff | drabbles | scenarios ↬ warnings: none ↬ w/c: 1.3k ↬ requested by: 🤍 ↬ request was: Hihii I was wondering if you could do enhypens reaction to calling them things like baby or my love in your native language (excluding English and Korean) ↬ a/n (a few things !!)

since i clearly don’t what “my love” in everyone’s native language “babes” is the place holder word and you can imagine it as whatever “my love / love” is in your language !! also i haven’t done an ot7 post in a while so these might be kinda bad and lowkey might not make any sense 💔

also, the 500 followers event is closed (unless you decide to send one in tonight then i’ll still write it 👀 !! ) but somehow we hit 800 followers today !! how this blog managed to get like 200 followers while i was ia is beyond me 😭

but thank you everyone 🥺 i’ll be writing requests from the 500 followers throughout the week and responding to asks as well <33

˚₊·˚♤˚· lee heeseung ˚₊·˚♤˚·

late one night you and hee are laying in bed, unable to sleep so you ask him,

“babes, wanna eat some ramen?” he’s like yes, ramen !! but wait,

“babes?” he asks. “isn’t that fish in russian?” (like that whole “te amo” means “i love you” in tagalog / filipino even though it actually means ‘i love you’ in spanish. but yeah, he’d probably think it was something completely different in another language lmao) once you realized what you just called him you tell him,

“it doesn’t mean fish, it means love in [insert your language].” the dots connect in his head and all of a sudden,

“i babes you,” you hear. you can’t help but smile at him and laugh a little because,

“that’s not how the grammar works, but at least you tried.” from then on if he wanted something from you he’d do aegyo and would say.

“babes, please !!”

˚₊·˚✎˚· park jongseong / jay | self indulgent jay mini fic somewhat related to this req ˚₊·˚✎˚·

you’re chilling with jay one day and all of a sudden,

“hey, babes can you hand me the remote?” you ask. suddenly he’s frozen in place, looking at you like,

“did you just call me love in [insert your language]?” you look at him, slightly tilting your head to the side and you’re all like,

“huh, i guess i did.” in his head, his mind is going crazy because what ?? you l-word him ?? but then you’re just like,

“wait, how do you know what that word means?” and then he gets all flustered and begins to ramble.

“i went on a YouTube spiral at four am, and, uh… uhh… yeah, i just heard it. it sounded unique so i sorta just remembered.”

“when?”

“like, a few weeks ago.”

“what were you watching?”

“the basics to [insert your language] 101.” you’re shocked but not really since jay is basically a language genius. but now your heart feels all fuzzy and warm because he’s learning your language.

˚₊·˚ ✁˚· sim jaeyun / jake ˚₊·˚ ✁˚·

if anything, you probably didn’t call him babes first. why? because you said it to layla. you stopped by jake’s place before the both of you went to your parent’s place. since you haven’t seen layla in a while, she instantly captured your attention (like she so rightfully deserves).

“babes, i missed you!” you say as you smile while petting her and seeing her tail wag in happiness. jake looks at the sight of the two loves of his life and can’t stop the way his heart flutters a little. he doesn’t want to ruin the moment but he wants your attention so he ends up sort of sitting on the ground next to layla and peeks up at you with wide eyes and a smile.

“babes?” he asked. you end up also sitting on the floor, layla settling onto your lap,

“it means love in [insert your language].” he frowns,

“you said you love layla before saying you love me?”

“who says i love you?” he gets kind of pouty because he knows that you love but he wants to hear it. some time passes and when you’re at your parent’s house, you’re talking to them and you tell them in [insert your language],

“i love jake.” he hears the word and his name in the same sentence. so he takes a chance and using the same sentence you said but with your name he says,

“i love ___.”

˚₊·˚ ❆˚· park sunghoon ˚₊·˚ ❆˚··

it probably slipped out in a moment of panic while the two of you were ice skating. sometimes you slipped into [insert your language] due to a surge of various emotions, sometimes anger, fear, or frustration. sunghoon had asked if you wanted to go on a date to the new rink that just opened and you said yes because ice skating with hoon, how could you miss the opportunity ?? he was holding your hand and skating to your pace trying to teach you how to ice skate. but somewhere down the line, he ended up letting go without you realizing it (like when you ride a bike and the person behind you holding the bike lets go !!) so you turn around, eyes wide at the distance between you and sunghoon and you’re like,

“YAH, BABES YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T LET GO,” and all of a sudden you lose your balance. thankfully, sunghoon being the great skater that he is manages to get to you and holds so you so that you don’t fall. you’re clutching onto his jacket, trying to catch your breath, “i hate you,” you mutter. he smiles as he moves your hair to get out of your face,

“yeah, keep telling yourself that. wait? what does babes mean?” he asks.

“it means love in [insert your language].” suddenly, ice king composure melts. heart going a hundred miles a minute. mind is all like wait what? he accidentally loses his footing and balance, falling while taking you down with him but you’re fine since you landed on top of him.

“are you ok, babes?” he asks to at least try and keep some cool because even though you’re in an ice skating rink, it suddenly feels as if things just got a hundred degrees hotter.

˚₊·˚❂˚· kim sunoo ˚₊·˚❂˚·

he had been interested in learning about your language and culture, mostly for the food… but a+ for effort, right? he would often ask you, “what does this mean?” “what does that mean?” that kind of stuff, since he was genuinely curious. he picked up a few words here and there, occasionally using a word that he knew in a sentence while talking to you. your family asked you to bring him over for a family gathering / party situation sometimes it felt like they liked him more than you. you were sitting down with a plate of food,

“babes, can you hand me a napkin?” suddenly, your and sunoo’s ears are filled with the sounds of “OOO” and your family begins teasing you. to yourself, you’re just like, did i really just call sunoo… but when you look at sunoo his smile is the widest it’s ever been

“you called me love, matji, matji?” (matji meaning like “right” in korean, idk it just felt right to spell that out here ok anyways)

“how did… how did you know?” and he does that thing where he kind of giggles,

“you just confirmed it!”

˚₊·˚✧˚· yang jungwon ˚₊·˚✧˚·

one night jungwon was dropping you off to the front of your doorstep to make sure you got home safe and sound. you were trying to be cute and said,

“saramhae” (saram means person in korean, but what you really meant to say was, “saranghae” which means i love you in korean). jungwon then does that thing where he smirks at you, tilting his head slightly, and he says,

“nado saramhae, babes.” (so like “i love you too, [love in insert your language]” but it’s saramhae because that’s what you said at first) but then,

“babes?” you ask. he plays it off by saying,

“i’m the leader, i need to learn how to communicate in different languages for engenes.” but really it’s just secret language learner pt. 2 exposed.

˚₊·˚⍢˚· nishimura riki / ni-ki ˚₊·˚⍢˚·

ni-ki’s head was on your lap, eyes closed since he was taking a nap and decided your lap was the best thing to claim as his pillow. you needed to get up so to wake him, you poked his cheeks,

“ni-ki,” you said. nothing.

“riki-ah?” this time as more of a question while lightly patting his hair. also nothing.

“babes, if you don’t wake up i’m gonna shove you off my lap.” suddenly, his eyes open and he looks up at you which causes you to jump back in your seat slightly.

“bae-ehbs?” he asks, trying to sound out the word.

“uh huh.”

“wait doesn’t that mean, love?”

“no… it means pabo,” you reply playfully. (pabo meaning like dum dum / stupid in korean, but it’s not meant to sound offensive here !!)

“no it means ‘love’ jay hyung told me about that word when i started dating you.”

“well, if you knew then why’d you ask?”

“wait, so it actually does mean love?”

“you just said jay told you!”

“yeah but i didn’t believe him.” at the confirmation of the word’s true meaning, he feels happy and kind of giddy at the new name he’s earned for himself from you. like heeseung, he’d use it to get something that he wants from you but instead of aegyo it’s more like teasing.

↬ a/n pt. 2 + semi tmi: i speak two languages and i suck at both, english and my parent’s native language. two & a quarter if you count the bare minimum of spanish i learned from taking it during the first two years of high school and the few words of korean i picked up from kdramas lmao 😭

❦ written by riri ( @enhykkul ) | blog masterlist | blog navigation

↬ tagging: @bloom-bloom-pow | @markleepooh | @sunshineshouchan (permanent taglist is open if anyone wants to be in it !!)

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argylemikewheeler · 3 years ago

Text

July 1st, 1985

what the first ep of (my) s3 would look like if the main concept was: both Steve and Will are gay in 1985’s Summer of Love and the town’s enemy is a little more human; loving friendships, very confused adults, and Will Byers Actually Getting Help

“Harrington!”

“Yes, sir.” Steve looked up from his desk. He dropped his crossword and looked to be at attention; the police station’s phone wasn’t ringing, though, so there wasn’t really anything he should have been doing. Hopper stepped out of his office, angling himself toward the door rather than Steve’s desk island.

“Do you think you’ll be able to-- Harrington, what are you doing?” Hopper caught sight of the pocket thesaurus sitting on his desk (the last name written on the inside cover not belonging to Steve, of course). Hopper fixed his sunglasses on the edge of his nose, looking over them and down at Steve.

“I’m just, uh, working on my vocabulary.” Steve said. Hopper blinked twice, waiting. Steve wasn’t going to say the truth: he was dating-- well seeing someone-- way smarter than him. This wasn’t for joy or boredom. He was studying to impress. “It’s college prep, sir.”

“The crossword?” The chief evened his stare. “This your old man’s suggestion?” Of all the things Steve’s father was telling him to do with himself, he wished some of it was simply pecking at a crossword over a twelve hour shift. Fucking off and being a better piece of shit son just wasn’t feasible to accomplish in one summer.

“He swears by it.”

“Okay, well. Uh, moving on from that,” Hopper grabbed his hat from the coat rack. The topic of Steve’s father always made Hopper stiffen up; it was definitely the main reason Hopper gave Steve his job at the station, but it still created more questions. Steve knew Hopper and his father went to high school together, but he never asked his father about those years-- beyond his baseball glory stories. “I’ve got plans tonight and I need to head out early. Can you handle things on your own for a while. At least until the night shift comes in?”

“I’ll be fine.” Steve made sure not to acknowledge the crossword on his desk as he nodded. He was really good at his job, he was. He was also just, unfortunately, still a pretty shitty boyfriend and needed all the vocab help he could get. “What’s the pressing story?”

“I have dinner.” Hopper was already trying to walk out the door. “So don’t call me. For the love of God.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Chief. I--” Steve was sure it was the cool July wind that slammed the door on the last half of his sentence. Not Hopper. “won’t... Have a good time, I guess.”

The police station was empty: it was another boring and wonderfully quiet Monday in Hawkins. There’d been some calls to break up disturbances at city hall in the past few days, but somehow everyone just seemed to agree that Mondays-- the longest shift of Steve's whole week-- was the day everyone went about their quietest day.

There were a few officers milling in and out of the back lounge and front door, casting a quick glance to Steve as he muttered and threatened fourteen down and six across. Nancy had been helping close the gaps of his post-high school education-- without knowing just what for-- but had been picking up most hours at the Post to try and elbow her way into their good graces; it put his tutoring on hold. So here he was, groaning at some clues about classical artists he’d never heard of.

There were other reasons Steve was sure the other officers thought he was odd-- things he was sure his father had passed along in spitting rants-- but Steve didn’t mind. No one said anything to his face.

“Hey Flo! Is, uh, is Steve here?” The question was asked with the answer already in mind.

Steve sat up in his chair, twisting around to see down the hall to the back entrance to the station. There weren’t many parking spots to fill, but he knew a certain someone who preferred it to street parking.

“Jonathan?”

“Oh, I hear him. Thanks-- hey!” Jonathan hurried out from the hall, his camera bumping against his stomach and bag slapping against his leg in the same rhythm. He’d gotten a new haircut recently: semi-wonky bangs and a closer cut in the back. All thanks to Steve’s peer pressure and Mrs. Byers’s kitchen shears.

“What are you doing here?”

“Sorry to stop by your work like this--” he lowered his voice as he stopped at the corner of Steve’s desk. “I know we said we wouldn’t do that, but we got an extra muffin in the lunch order and I know you’re always starving after a Monday shift so.” Jonathan produced a folded brown paper bag from his satchel. “Here.”

“Oh, thanks.” Steve wanted to say so much more, but had to settle. No more. None of what they’d decided they wouldn’t say. Not until the summer had ended. They wanted to see if they lasted longer than the convenience of loose summer schedules.

“Won’t I see you, uh, later, though?” At eight, when Steve got sent home he always drove straight to Jonathan’s. Jonathan started late on Tuesdays and Steve had off; they had the time to waste. “Or is this your way of telling me to stay home?”

“No! No we’re still... hanging out.” Jonathan had gotten really good at cooking and treated Steve to weekly dinner. It was a nice gesture at first, but Steve started growing fond of the company. They both did around mid-June. “But, I think Mike’s going to be over so. Be cool , alright? Keep it cool.”

“Cool, got it.” Steve leaned back in his chair. He moved his papers to leave a corner of his desk for Jonathan to sit on. No one was in the main office; it was a harmless invitation.

“I have to get going...” It sounded like an excuse, a dive for safety. “And I’m sure you have, um, puzzles to do?” Jonathan pretended not to be endeared. He tried, he really did. He failed , but Steve pretended he didn’t notice.

“Don’t want to sit and help me figure out the title of Mozart’s last opera?” He patted the desk, daring to be more direct.

“I really have to go.” Jonathan was genuine, looking at his watch. “The Post only let me out early today because I have to go pick up Will from his doctor’s appointment.”

“Wait.” Steve put the cap back on his pen. “Isn’t Will’s therapy on Wednesday?”

“Yeah, but with Mom’s schedule and the store being all weird-- we had to move it to today. And you know we typically have a family night after-- so he feels okay, you know-- but we can’t . So, that’s why Mike’s coming over. Hopefully they’ll be idiots and tire Will out and he’ll sleep okay.” Tension rose in Jonathan’s voice quickly, explaining his day as if going over a laundry list; never rehearsing it but having it memorized.

“I can stay home if you need time, Jonathan.”

“No, really. I want you to come over.” Jonathan sighed and placed his hand on the emptied spot on Steve’s desk. “Besides, you can’t break tradition after a little over one month , then it was just a weird habit.”

Steve Harrington did not consider his summer fling a w eird habit . If anything, it was the most sensical thing he’d done in a very long time. Even after getting rejected from all his colleges, and never hearing the end of his father’s lectures, 1985 had been very kind to him. And that was mostly due to Jonathan’s inherent nature to be the same.

“I’ll see you after eight.” Steve smiled and reached for his hand-- but averted to grab a piece of memo paper by the phone.

“I’m sorry to leave in a rush.” Jonathan hitched his bag up, checking his watch again. “I just, I really need to get going.”

“Don’t worry. The muffin is more than enough.” Steve said. “And seeing you wasn’t too bad either.”

“Slow day, huh?” Jonathan said. The corner of his mouth quirked with a flattered, embarrassed smile. Steve tried to act nonchalant, like he wasn’t so goddamn relieved to see a familiar and happy face. Especially his familiar and happy face. “Well, good thing I have another surprise for you.”

“You can barely fit your camera in that bag, what could you possibly-- hey!” Steve missed grabbing Jonathan’s arm as he walked away, heading for the front door. “Where are you going?” Jonathan kept walking, checking his watch the whole way. “Hello?”

“Delivered right on time.” Jonathan pushed the front door open to the station-- but was nearly knocked over as a green dash barreled through it.

"Steve! Steve! Steve!” The dash was suddenly grabbing him by the shoulders. “You got the job!”

“Henderson! Oh my god! You’re back!” In an unlikely impulse, Steve grabbed Dustin in a hug, taking advantage of the change of height. “Holy shit, I nearly forgot! First of the month!”

“See you, Steve.” Jonathan walked across the room to the back entrance again. His hand braced the back of Steve’s chair, brushing across his shoulders.

“O-Okay! Yeah, see you!” Steve sputtered, losing his reminded cool in an instant. “Bye.”

Dustin pulled away slowly. “What was that?” It looked like everyone was too smart for Steve.

“Nothing. He brought me a surprise lunch-- which was an obvious decoy to the main event! You! How are you, buddy? How was camp?”

“Oh, it was fantastic. Steve, I have to show you all my inventions! Camp was the best four weeks of my life .” Dustin hopped up onto the corner of his desk. His heels tapped against the empty metal drawers. He was jittery, nearly uncontainable, but still so composed-- if only to be focused all on Steve.

Steve held his hands out, letting him start. “Lay it on me, Henderson! I want to hear everything. I missed you like crazy.”

“Well, first, obviously. I have to tell you about my girlfriend--”

“Whoa! Whoa! Girlfriend ? That fast?” Steve hadn’t been expecting any of his dating advice to work. It had been coming from such a poor and confused part of himself, Steve figured it was destined to fail. Apparently, it was just Steve that was-- when flirting with women at least. “Damn, there’s something in you after all!”

“She’s super smart, Steve. I’ve never met any girl like her. She’s a genius and she’s so pretty. God, I miss her already-- and I just saw her.”

Steve looked over his shoulder. He knew the feeling. “That’s great, man. I mean, I’m super happy for you. Like, that’s crazy . That’s freaking awesome.”

“So what about you? How are the ladies? I mean, you work for the Chief now. All the ladies you could need and more, am I right?”

Steve used to be really good at this part of the lie, but with Dustin it felt cheap. He didn’t need to lie to him, but that was the deal; no matter how much that person was Steve’s best and most beloved friend, their secret was a dead-bolt, vaulted secret.

“Eh, not too great. Only girl my own age I see-- besides Nancy, really-- is the night-shift girl, Robin. But she’s not really-- we’re just friends. She’s alright. Leaves me weird drawings in the memo pad.”

“Ooo, she sounds cool.” Dustin raised his eyebrows. “Do you know her from school?”

“Yeah, we didn’t really run in the same crowds but-- it’s not like that, man. It’s really not.” Steve started unwrapping his lunch. “It’s so not like that with Robin.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m not... looking at the moment.”

Steve had originally decided to not go looking for trouble. After he and Nancy split in the beginning of his senior year, he didn’t start looking for an immediate replacement. The illusion of thinking he was in love with Nancy-- capable of being in love with Nancy-- was a hard thing to have come crumbling down. Steve needed time to get his own bearings, to put his feet firmly on the ground, and have them lifted off when his father grabbed him by the lapels and--

Steve hadn’t gone looking for trouble. Hadn’t gone looking for love either. But somehow, both seemed to find him.

Jonathan was late. He usually wasn’t but Will was trying not to be worried. It was a different day than usual and he knew how awful Jonathan’s boss and co-workers were. Will tried not to be worried-- he wasn't. It was just that he had spent an hour talking about the night his father left their family; standing outside the doctor’s office was a bit nerve-wracking. It felt too familiar, even with all the talking and note-scribbling.

Finally, Jonathan’s car pulled into the lot. He was speeding, as much as his car could speed: he knew he was late, which made Will feel a little bit better. No one had forgotten him. It was just traffic or his bosses or maybe just hitting all the red lights. As Jonathan stopped in front of the curb and waved Will in, Will could see he was jittery-- he was upset that he was late. Will felt bad for counting the minutes.

Not that he did it out of impatience or anything. Will just formed the habit after getting his new watch. It matched Mike’s. Completely on accident, of course.

“Hey, buddy! Sorry I’m late. I was-- I had to run an errand really fast. How long were you waiting.” He moved his bag and threw it onto the backseat. Will would’ve held it on his lap.

“I wasn’t keeping track.” Will said, climbing into the passenger seat. Will wanted to ask if his bag had Jonathan’s camera in it. If everything was okay. He didn’t. It seemed like Jonathan had been in his therapy with Will, just as shaken up. “It’s okay. Thanks for getting me.”

Jonathan waited until Will put on his seat belt. “Of course. We’re always here to pick you up. Therapy is important; you have to go.”

Will laughed before he could stop himself. “You sound like Mom.” Why?

“Because she’s right.” Therapy was still kind of weird to Will-- since no one else in his grade had to do it-- but he humored his family. It was helping, if he had to admit it. But it was still embarrassing sometimes.

His therapist, Dr. Bright-- Rose Marie, as she insisted on being called-- was a send-out from the Lab, but disguised within a private practice just outside of town. She was able to listen to Will talk about what he saw and felt during his time with the Mind Flayer without trying to commit him. Almost nothing was off limits. Almost nothing.

Will checked his watch again.

“Are you excited to see Mike tonight?” The question was pointed, but Will wasn’t sure why it made him nervous. “I mean, I feel like I haven’t seen him in a bit.”

“Oh, yeah. He’s always with El.”

Will was sure they weren’t dating. El was just on a year-long stint of self-discovery and, besides Max, Mike was the person she trusted the most to help make as many helpful mistakes as possible. He bought her books to read and new music to try. It was really sweet, seeing Mike take such big strides toward helping their friend. But there was also a part of Will that felt dejected: his sort of help had to be prescribed and couldn’t be replaced with a warm laugh from one Mike Wheeler.

Will was sick while his friends were growing.

“Is there something wrong?” Jonathan used to ask the question like Will was one trembling lip away from crying-- but this time, he asked it like Will had his hand on the door, seconds from jumping out. “Will, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Will nodded. “I’m fine. Just-- I talked a lot today and I’m tired.”

“Do you want to cancel with Mike--”

“No.” Will had been looking forward to having time with Mike-- just Mike-- for a whole week. He wanted to sit on his floor with his best friend and be a kid again. Just for the night-- maybe draw some of Mike’s old campaigns or sketch out an idea for his own. He just wanted to remember something good about the past four years. After his hour with Dr. Bright, it all felt painful. Like his childhood naivety had been broken and every conversation he overheard in his house dripped with venom and disdain.

Will didn’t like picturing his house that way. It was a place that loved and raised him, a place he felt safe. He didn’t like thinking the conversations he heard being screamed through the walls were trapped in the drywall.

His arms felt heavy and his chest felt like it was made of metal-- he kept tasting it in his mouth. Will leaned back against the seat and reached for the radio. Jonathan turned it down before Will had even changed the station.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I just want to see Mike.” Will said, his mouth too honest and his mind shrouded in guilt. “I just want to see my friend.”

“Okay. Okay.” Jonathan nodded somewhat somberly. “I understand. Let’s go pick him up. He’s at his house right? Not El’s-- o-or The Sinclair’s or anything?”

“No. He’s at his.” Will crossed his arms and tried to find the loose string-- the thing that could uncoil Jonathan’s still-tightening anxiety. “Are you still dating Nancy?”

Jonathan turned to look at Will, nearly crashing the car. That was the wrong string. “What?”

“Nancy? Are you still dating her?”

“I was never dating Nancy.” Jonathan laughed, shaking his head. “I’m not dating Mike’s sister, don’t worry.” The clarification was strange and felt off-topic. Like Jonathan was trying to talk about something else.

“I thought you were. You guys hung out a lot during school.” Will heard her voice through the walls too. Always gentle, never yelling. Except when she was losing at playing cards. Then she shouted.

“She was helping me pass chemistry. That’s all.” Jonathan turned the radio up a little. Will checked his watch. “And then she helped me apply to the Post internship-- she’s great at writing papers, did you know that? A real wordsmith. Is Mike a writer too?”

He was, he really was. Grammatically, Will ran out of red pens trying to help, but creatively? Will envied Mike’s ability. “I don’t know. We don’t really talk about that kind of stuff like you two do… Since you two are dating.”

“We’re not .” Jonathan laughed. Will took advantage of an upcoming stop sign to lean forward and look at his brother’s crimson face. “We’re not, Will, okay? We’re really not. I’d tell you.”

“You’d tell me?”

“Of course! I’d tell you if I… I had a girlfriend. Which I don’t!” He stayed at the stop sign for a bit too long. “Do you?”

There was an option to play dumb, to make Jonathan ask more directly: do you have a girlfriend, Will ? but it sounded far more painful than being honest, than being as lonely as he was.

“No. I don’t.”

“And you’d tell me. If you were dating someone?” Jonathan looked at Will, hopeful but scarcely so. “You’ll tell me if anything big happens in your life?”

“Yeah.” There wouldn’t be anything happening at all that summer, that was for damn sure . “Absolutely.”

Steve had about seventy percent of his puzzle done-- fifty of which was because Dustin was an unstoppable genius with no tolerance for Steve’s careful pace. It was just about quarter past seven, and Steve’s back was getting sore from sitting in his chair all day. He only liked sitting when it was in his car, on his way to the Byers's House, careful, of course, to obey all traffic laws.

Steve was packing his crosswords and pens up in the top drawer of his desk when something clattered the back door open. Steve grabbed a pen and whipped around in his seat, as if to wield it like a weapon.

“Hello? Who’s there?”

“Hey dingus.” Luckily, Steve couldn’t even see Robin yet-- or rather, she couldn’t see him or his emphasized eye roll. She could hear him groan though. “Hey, shut up and quit whining. I’m sending you home early.”

Her head popped out from the hallway. Robin’s ponytail was high on her head, the hair flopping over and getting caught in her stringy bangs. She flung her backpack out from behind her and tossed it toward Steve. She wasn’t in her uniform yet, only wearing the buttoned up shirt-- unbuttoned and showing her torn and dyed shirt underneath. She was wearing jogging shorts, her knees torn up and covered with Band-Aids. They reminded Steve of the ones taped to his face after getting a plate smashed into his forehead. Deceivingly cheerful.

“What are you doing here early?” Steve stood and followed her, holding her backpack awkwardly in his hands. “You’re never early.” Eight on the dot. Every time.

“I figure you want to get out of here tonight.” She didn’t even stop to look at Steve as they walked into the back room. “Probably want to see your boyfriend.”

Her words weren’t sharp, but Steve still recoiled. He let his arms, and her bag, hang by his sides.

“Who? Jonathan?” The only way Jonathan and Robin had ever met was in the hallways of Hawkins High. She definitely never saw them interact at the station-- or on any of their nights together: they were always indoors. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“First off, I didn't even say a name." Shit. "Second, he came in the other day looking for you.” Robin started buttoning her shirt up, fixing the collar as she finally turned to see Steve. “He was really upset-- didn’t even know what time it was to know you weren’t working.”

“Upset?” Technically, it wasn’t Steve’s problem. It was the deal; they didn’t have to care about each other’s lives. It was just summer. It was just like any other summer.

“Yeah. Crying, sniffling, snot-- the whole nine, man.” Robin sounded extremely sympathetic despite beginning to change her pants. Steve whipped around, covering his face. “You should go see him. Make sure he’s okay. Be a good boyfriend... shithead.”

“He’s not--”

“Steve, I’m the last person you should be arguing with.” Robin laughed-- and it was only momentarily threatening. Until, of course, Steve realized what she meant.

Like all good secrets kept at Hawkins PD, Steve kept his mouth shut and nodded even if she wasn’t looking.

“Yes, sir--ma'am-- Robin.”

“So, are you going to go or what, dingus?” She tapped him on the shoulder. “Get out of here-- and tell me all about it Wednesday.”

Steve blinked at her, holding out her bag. As if it was enough thanks to give her back her own property. “Are we… friends, or something?”

“No, of course not.” She winked, slapping his arm. “Just looking out for one of my own.”

After picking Mike up from his house, they drove home in uncharacteristic chatter. Jonathan was the only one speaking, humming along to the radio. Will was exhausted beyond performative small talk; the type that had to be done between two best friends when a third party was present. Mike was great at just sitting with Will in silence, but Jonathan didn’t know that. Instead, the three of them passed around quiet jokes and laughter, answering questions about their friends for Jonathan’s upkeep of information.

Once they got in the house, Jonathan let them wander off into Will’s room as he started pulling pots out of the kitchen cabinets. He wouldn’t bother or pester them about any summer work, either. They would be left alone in their own coupled silence.

Mike was sitting cross-legged on Will’s floor, twisting one of Will's crayons between his fingers. Will needed new ones but he felt funny asking for them as a near-freshman in high school. He liked the glide of wax on paper compared to the scrape of colored pencils. Well, that and the fact he ruined half of his crayons the year prior making a full map of Hawkins in a fugue state and only had two crayons able to be used normally.

“You had doctor stuff today, right?”

Will was digging under his bed for his emptier sketch book. “Yeah. Therapy. Doctor doctor stuff was two weeks ago.”

“How was it?” Mike let his hand still and rest in his lap. “Like, what do you do in therapy? Just start talking?”

“Yeah, but it’s more than that. You have to think about stuff too. Doctors ask you questions, sometimes.” Will pulled back and drug his old drawing supplies along the carpet. He sat back on his heels and was able to see Mike over the top of the bed. He didn’t know Will was looking. “You have to have answers.”

“What do they ask about?” Mike kept looking at his hands, unaware of Will. “Upside down stuff?”

“Sometimes.” Will shuffled back around to Mike's side of the bed. He could feel the tiniest bit of rug burn starting. “She asked me about my dad today.”

Mike looked up, almost immediately. “Can she do that?”

“Why can’t she?” Will popped the lid on the retired Tupperware, now his art bin. “I talked about it.”

“I thought you didn’t like to.” Will had never said those words which meant Mike had gathered it from just observing him. “Did you… like talking about it?”

“Not really.” Will laughed. He found a few extra crayons, but of all the wrong colors. “She had this big speech afterward about learned helplessness that I… really didn’t like.” Will tried to keep laughing.

Mike put the crayon back in the bin. “Are you okay, Will?”

“Yeah. It’s just… the same old stuff.” Will shrugged. “Sometimes it just bothers me more than other days.”

Mike bit the inside of his cheek, picking at his words carefully. “You never talk about your dad, Will.”

“Why would I?”

“Because it bothers you. You can talk about anything you want-- I… I would listen.”

“You don’t have to listen to it just because it happened to me, you know. My therapist says you don’t have to experience things with me for them to be real.”

“But I want to know.” Mike looked insulted, almost crushed and collapsed as he sat back on his hands. “That’s your dad,” he said. “And you’re my friend.”

They sat in silence for a while. Mike went back to studying a new crayon, picking at the wrapper. Will felt something forming in his throat. A bubble that was hot, thick and sticky. Not vomit, but not impending tears either.

“I don’t get why he left.” Will said. “I don’t know what happened to our family.”

“Nothing happened. Maybe he just… wasn’t good at being your dad anymore.”

“But then why? What did I do?” Will didn’t want to ask Mike, make him feel responsible for answering, but Will was desperate to ask the universe again.

“Nothing.” Mike said. “I just think he…”

“He what? My dad got tired of me? Didn’t want to raise me?”

“Maybe he actually learned how to take a hint and knew he wasn’t good enough for you and Jonathan-- or your mom.” Mike wanted to be hopeful, to be positive, so badly. He ached, his smile tight and weak. He didn't have the answers, and who was Will to put him in the position to come up with them.

“So he gave up.” Will said.

“That’s not what I meant--”

“I know. I know… That’s just how it feels.” Will shrugged. He smiled at Mike, accepting his help and his warmth. It hurt knowing that Mike was wrong, but still. Will could always pretend a little longer. Anything for Mike.

“Hey! You monsters hungry?” Steve clapped his hands together before gently tapping the door. “Jonathan’s got dinner on the table.”

The door was open. Steve didn’t have to knock. He wanted to, just to prove he wasn’t too comfortable, but he also knew Mike was over. And knocking would announce his entrance rather than letting it just be something that just was . Rather than being cool .

Awkwardly and with a lot of weird, throat-clearing fanfare, Steve opened the Byers’s front door and poked his head inside. Jonathan called him in from the kitchen without even needing to say hello, or being surprised by his walking in: In here, Steve! Dinner’s almost done .

Steve walked through the living room carefully, as if he’d disturb it. There was a tape playing softly-- some band Steve’s never heard of, but didn’t hate. He’d grown to like the way that every song played in the Byers house was always moody and melancholy. The music was always the opposite of how he felt stepping into the kitchen.

Jonathan was at the stove, stirring a pot of something that smelled delicious. He had what looked to be tomato sauce stains on the front of his shirt-- where he wrapped his hand up to open the sauce jar. Steve was able to hide his smile as he shouldered off his uniform jacket and toed off his shoes, claiming a chair at the kitchen table.

“How was work?” Jonathan didn’t stop stirring. He moved like the stove was turned all the way up and he was afraid of burning the food. He spoke that way too.

“It was fine. Not a whole lot.” Steve didn’t want to have anything seem bigger than whatever upset Jonathan-- and seemed to still be upsetting him now. “How was your day?”

“Fine. Will and Mike are in the other room.” He was checking things off his list. Steve stepped up to Jonathan and stood even with him at the stove. He was making one-pot pasta. It really did smell fantastic. Steve was so hungry, even after his lunch.

“How was… the other things in your day? Develop any good pictures?” Steve covered how stupid he sounded by placing his hand on Jonathan’s lower back.

Jonathan stopped stirring and looked at him. Steve tried to keep cool, tried not to show his motives-- his attempt to calm something he couldn’t believe he’d missed spinning out of control, even if he didn’t know what it was. “Nancy walked into the dark room today-- she’s actually the one who gave me the muffin-- and she exposed the photos to light too early. So no, actually.”

Steve really was a bad boyfriend. Even when he wasn’t one yet-- or at all.

“Okay… how was. Everything else?”

“You don’t have to ask about my day, Steve. It’s okay.” Jonathan sighed and spoke evenly. “I’m just a little tired. Really. We don’t have to do the whole… thing .”

The whole thing where Steve was explicit about how much he really cared about Jonathan and admitted he was sincerely and terrifyingly in love with Jonathan.

“I was asking because I was curious. Not out of obligation.” Steve clarified. His hand slid to rest on Jonathan’s hip. He moved closer, lips aiming to place a commitment-less kiss on his cheek.

“Steve! I said to keep it cool .” Jonathan ducked back, placing a hand on Steve’s chest. “I don’t want Will to see us.”

“Your brother?” Steve was surprised; of all people Jonathan explicitly wanted to hide from Will seemed kind and forgiving-- not that there was anything to forgive, but it was something Steve often checked for. Steve was sure that one of Dustin’s friends would be… like Steve. Or like Jonathan-- maybe. All of them seemed prepared to deal with any of their friends suddenly being different. Far more prepared than Steve ever was.

“Yes. My brother.” Jonathan snapped, banging the spoon against the edge of the pot. “I don’t want him to learn I’m not dating Nancy but instead seeing her ex-boyfriend in the same day.” he whispered.

“Wait, what? He thinks you’re with Nancy?” Steve wasn’t sure where they went wrong. They were trying to obscure the truth, not lead everyone to a different reality. “D-Do you think Mike does too?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t want to ask and seem weird.” Jonathan sighed again. He sounded tense again. “I told Will I’d tell him if I was seeing anyone… And he promised me the same.”

Steve knew not to press the obvious question-- well are you seeing someone, Jonathan? -- but also didn’t want to touch the obvious implication that Will needed to share a secret with Jonathan. Instead, he placed his hands into his pockets and turned to lean against the counter.

“Dinner smells really good, Byers.” There was another name that began with “B” that Steve wasn’t allowed to use, but always wanted to. Byers Byers Byers. Baby baby baby. “Thank you, again, for cooking for me-- for us.”

“You think I’m going to let you starve?” His stirring slowed; the stove cooled down. He nudged Steve’s arm with the spoon. “You coming home late and trying to cook? You mean half-drinking a beer and falling asleep face down on your bed in your uniform, half unbuttoned.”

“You picture that often, Byers?” Steve lifted an eyebrow. “Hm?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Jonathan’s lips quirked into a smile again. “But, if you’d like a beer, I think there’s one in the fridge. No one in the house is going to touch it.”

“I can go ask Will if he wants it.”

“Shut up-- do you want it or not?”

“No.” Steve didn’t like drinking when they were together. He’d never really heard the full story about where Mr. Byers went, but he had a father of his own to make those blank spaces fill pretty fast. “But thanks. Don’t want the habit of needing a beer to forget how boring my job is.”

“I thought you liked your job?” Jonathan took a piece of pasta out of the pot and held it out for Steve to test.

He chewed and answered. “I do! It’s nice to have normal hours-- and I’m happy to help have replacements as Flo gets ready to retire but… I don’t know. Sometimes it feels boring .”

“Would you rather be chasing down a four-legged monster without a face?” Jonathan let out a bubble of genuine laughter, playfully glaring at Steve.

“Frankly, yes! At least we’d all have something to do. I feel like I don’t see everyone anymore.”

“Then throw a party. Don’t wish for anything bad to happen.” Jonathan said firmly. “Let the record show my brother is a very strange magnet for all this… weird shit.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Steve said solemnly. He put his hand on Jonathan’s forearm. “I wish we were all safely doing something exciting. It felt nice to be needed, even if no one knew it was us.”

Jonathan put the spoon down on the counter and pivoted to be looking only at Steve. There was something resting just on the tip of his tongue, just under the surface of their conversation. It would’ve been a digression-- Steve could tell by Jonathan’s tense and furrowed brow-- but he would’ve listened.

“Jonathan?” Steve squeezed his arm, lifting his eyebrows. “What is it?”

“I--” He clenched his jaw, trying to swallow his words. “I think--” Steve knew there was no end to Jonathan’s sentence; merely starting it meant there was trust between them. A careful admission through omission. Steve knew Jonathan was looking at his shoes and wouldn’t be seen as he took in the secret flinches of Jonathan’s face. The crinkle by his left eye, the twitch of his mouth, double blinking--

They both jumped apart as the phone started ringing, practically shaking on the wall. Jonathan stepped away from Steve and left everything unsaid. Again.

Jonathan tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder as he turned to lean against the wall.

“Hello? This is--” His face changed sharply, his eyebrows furrowing. “I told you to stop bothering us. You’re lucky she’s not here to pick up the phone-- I don’t care !” Jonathan cleared his throat and looked at Steve in a flash of uncertainty and anxiety. “I have the police here right now and if you don’t stop calling me I will send them to your house-- it’s not a threat if you’re the one bothering us. Stop. Calling.” He slammed the phone down and braced his weight against the wall with his other hand.

“Am I considered ‘the police’ now?” Steve said lightly. It was his way of letting Jonathan know he was listening, but not asking direct questions. “I’m not even allowed to have a badge.”

“It counts.” Jonathan said, letting his arms fall down by his sides. Steve stepped over and kept stirring dinner.

“Who was that?”

“No one. Can you go get the boys in the other room? Dinner’s ready.” Jonathan pushed Steve aside to hunch over the stove again.

“Sure.” Steve nodded, knowing he wasn’t seen. “Hey! You monsters hungry? Jonathan’s got dinner on the table.”

Dinner felt weird.

Will couldn’t help but feel like he and Mike had gotten into a fight. Talking about his dad made anything feel sticky, feel like it was violent or volatile. A second from snapping or tearing off, bouncing around the walls and echoing in Will's body. A small conversation between friends-- actually a little understanding between best friends-- felt like it had been a screaming match, all because it was cut off. There was no apology from Will. He didn't have the chance to tie it all up with an I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, forget I said anything.

His plea sat heavy on his tongue as he talked to Steve-- who had arrived without notice-- and let Mike make him laugh so hard he nearly shot water out his nose. Will let it all happen under the tremor, the ache, of an apology. And maybe, if he was the best brother and friend he should’ve been, no problems or therapy, it would be enough of an apology.

He wasn't hungry and only ate half his serving of pasta, even though it was usually his favorite of Jonathan's recipes. He did apologize for that though, and it felt right to say aloud. Even if it was misdirected and no one heard it.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm so so sorry. Please come back--

Mike wasn’t tired, Will knew, but he still wanted to go to bed right after their horror movie ended. It was clear Mike hadn't been paying attention to the movie; the entire plot was that dreams were a new horror-scape for monsters to get teenagers. It wasn't too scary to Will; it just felt familiar. The villain looked different, more human, but Will knew what it felt like to dream while wide awake. To watch and be unable to do anything but scratch at the surface--

Convincing Will to get ready for bed, Mike said they’d have all day in the morning. He said that maybe he could convince his mom to let him stay over again if they don’t get all their fun in. Will knew Mike's mom probably would, if only because she felt bad for Will. But he would take the pity. A sleepover wasn't the worst thing to get from pity.

Will could still hear Mike fidgeting in his sleeping bag. He was rubbing his feet together like a cricket and twisting his wristwatch. The plastic scratched the sheer material of his sleeping bag rhythmically: back and forth. back and forth. backandforthbackandforth. It was like Mike was counting the ticks of his silent digital watch. Will began to play with his own watch, keeping it on in bed only because he'd noticed Mike hadn't removed it when they were brushing their teeth that night; apparently the watch was too good to part with.

Time though, was something Will wished he could separate himself from. He could hear the seconds scraping by now. Every moment he kept his friend awake and bored because Will was too weak or (rather and) too everything to stay up late again.

Therapy hadn’t even been that bad. Not really. Maybe it could be exhausting but it didn’t count because Will sat in the same spot for an hour. It wasn’t real work. It shouldn’t have counted. Will should’ve been able to hang out with his friend until sunrise, getting in trouble with his mom for being up so late. He should’ve still been a stupid, carefree kid, not a by-gone troubled teenager.

Maybe his dad had seen that from the beginning. Will's dad was always gambling, betting on baseball games he had these incredible "feelings" on. Sometimes he was wrong, but when he was right it was an amazing prediction; having the foresight no one else had. And maybe that was what it was, leaving them when he did. Maybe he saw Will wouldn’t be the second son he wanted after all. Maybe he knew of all the damage that would be done to him, the damage he would cause. Probably saw it from miles-- years-- away. And he left without a single warning to any of it.

What if his father had known? Could've known where he was when he came back into town two years ago? Not gone forever just in the lights. Just out of reach, just through the wall, Dad. What if he had known, been able to see, able to know, but wanted to leave Will Down there being possessed and enveloped and consumed and--

Will felt a chill scurry down his back. The feeling almost had legs. Too many. He felt ice cold, his body going blank-- not numb, but blank -- for a second. He couldn’t feel his fingers, but could still feel every inch of his body, suddenly pulsing and seizing.

"Will?" Mike asked, sitting up. He gripped the end of the bed and pulled his face closer to Will's. He squinted in the darkness, feeling for Will’s hand. Will couldn’t answer, his jaw tense and breath rattling out of him. "Will, what’s wrong?"

After a (thankfully) non-awkward dinner, Steve and Jonathan washed all the dishes and let the boys watch whatever movie they wanted. Steve didn’t pay attention to what tape he put in the VRC. He was too busy thinking about the hands hidden in the warm soapy water in the kitchen sink. Neither Mike nor Will seemed too bothered by the disgusting amount of blood or the scary blade man on the TV. He felt no regret letting them go to bed right after the credits rolled. Jonathan had looked exhausted after putting the last dish away, and dozed off during the climax of the movie-- even slept through the high-pitched screaming.

They waited for the sound of Will’s door closing over before they got into bed.

Jonathan flopped onto his back, a pillow resting between his chest and crossed arms. Steve laid on his side, bracing his weight on his elbow. He poked at Jonathan's furrowed eyebrow lightly.

"What's the problem, Byers?"

"Nothing."

"You are not a really great liar, you do know that right?" That and Steve could still hear Robin's blasé recounting of Jonathan's distress. Yeah. Crying, sniffling, snot-- the whole nine, man.

Jonathan sighed and turned to look at Steve. He hated being called out. "It's about Will."

"What's wrong with Will? He seemed alright at dinner."

"Yeah, but," Another sigh. "Steve, I think my brother’s gay."

Steve's first response was swallowed and he nodded. "Okay. Okay. And, um, what's the issue with that?" He adjusted himself on the bed, hoping there was more subtlety in that.

"I can't talk to him about it. I mean," Jonathan smiled and reached to touch his face. "This is a very different thing than being fourteen and confused."

"Who says he's confused?"

"I don't mean with himself-- the rest of the world is so confusing, Steve. You see the news... I can't talk to him. I didn't grow up like that. And being with you is... Different. We dated girls before. Will... I don't know. I think he knows already."

"You think he's got feelings for--"

"Oh absolutely." Jonathan nodded, closing his eyes. "Oh, I'm so glad it's not just me who sees it."

"Hopefully Wheeler does too."

"Hey, keep your voice down, he's only a few rooms over ."

"Sorry. Sorry. Me and my big mouth " Steve rested his head on Jonathan's shoulder. "Shut me up, maybe."

"Not until my mom gets back." Jonathan said, rolling up onto his side too. "If I catch her when she comes in the door, she won't come into my room to say good night. I can't have you distracting me until then."

"Your mom is on a date. She's an adult and so are you." Steve kissed Jonathan's shoulder. "You are a working man who just finished a long day at work-- I think you can cuddle up with your boyf--" Steve choked on his own stupidity, feeling his face go red and charisma die on impact. "With me."

"I will. Once my mom is back." Jonathan kissed Steve, as if a parting promise. Only to backtrack on his words immediately. He tucked Steve’s hair back behind his ear, his hands trying not to hold his face. “No-- no . Steve, not until my mom gets back.”

“I can keep an ear out--” As Steve spoke, the power in his bedside lamp dimmed. The power hummed quietly before flickering back up. Jonathan tensed and pushed himself up in bed.

“Did you see that?”

“Yeah, it was just the light, Byers. It’s windy out tonight, maybe a tree brushed a powerline.” Steve pushed Jonathan back down to his pillow-- and back into his own skin again. “It’s nothing . What if I turn out the light? Your mom won’t even see us in here.”

“No. No, I have to wait for her.”

“What if she doesn’t come back?”

“What!” Jonathan jerked upright again.

“I meant what if she’s at Hopper’s or something?” Steve shrugged. “She’s an adult.”

“Steve, that’s my mom .” Jonathan hissed, swatting at the hand resting on his shoulder.

“I meant because she drove there on her own. If she had some wine, maybe she stayed somewhere and is being a smart, responsible parent.” Steve soothed. “Something you don’t have to be right now. You’re not Will’s parent and you aren’t your own. Lay down, will you?”

Jonathan was reluctant, but let Steve ease him back down again. He pulled the pillow tighter to his chest and sighed, his crossed arms sinking deeper. Steve laid down beside him, nose gently touching the end of his shoulder. As he breathed, his short exhales tickled Jonathan’s skin and got him giggling. It was Steve’s secret trick; something that always worked because Jonathan didn’t know it was a pattern-- didn’t know he was ticklish.

“Sorry I was weird today.” Jonathan said suddenly. He wasn’t even grinning.

“What?” They didn’t apologize. There was no need. “You’re worried about stuff-- it’s okay.”

“No, I like our dinners. And I was so uptight. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” Steve didn’t know what to do with the sentiment. “Apology accepted?”

Jonathan sighed again, blowing it out slowly between his pressed lips. “Lonnie called today.”

“L- your dad ? Is that who was on the phone?” Steve wasn’t sure what came over him-- or his body-- as he placed an arm over Jonathan’s waist and pulled them together. There was something unspokenly intimate talking about abusive fathers while being nearly sutured together in bed, but Steve pretended he was just having problems hearing Jonathan correctly.

“Yeah.” Jonathan turned, his nose brushing Steve’s. “Said he wants custody of Will. He doesn’t trust Mom, he said.”

“How is he-- He can’t do that.”

“He’s going to try. I don't know where it came from. He still thinks he can win a case because the news says Will just disappeared into the woods . Like he ran away from us or something.”

“Everyone knows that’s not true.”

“A court might not.” Jonathan sighed, ducking his head down. Steve resisted lifting his chin to hook it over Jonathan’s head, nestling him into his neck. He laid still, listening to his breathing and the gentle creaking of the house--

Jonathan's door was thrown open, both men sitting up quickly, ready to defend themselves and their actions. It was Mike, in his pajamas with his hair sticking out in wild curls. Will stood just behind him in the hallway looking far more awake. Stilted and untousled.

"Mike?"

"Jonathan, quick!"

"What is it?" Jonathan swung his legs around and motioned both boys to come in. "Will?" Mike pushed him into the center of the door frame, although he remained in the hallway, in the light. Will’s hand grabbed at the back of his neck. His face was blank and his eyes were distant.

"Something's wrong." Will said slowly, blinking to focus. "I feel him."

"Feel who?" Jonathan kneeled in front of Will, holding his shoulders. "Feel who, Will?"

"Dad."

#stonathan #jonathan byers x steve harrington #byeler #will byers x mike wheeler #byler #finally reposting in a way that isn't a random post with a link alksdja #prompts #my fics

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kindahoping4forever · 4 years ago

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I Don’t Wanna Spend One More Christmas Without You // Poly!Cashton

@cal-puddies and I want to thank everyone who read/liked/reblogged/left us feedback during our Hoe For The Hoe-lidays event. We keep saying we can’t believe we pulled this off: between our 10 solo fics and this co-write, we posted over 30k words this week! I’m proud of not only that impressive feat but also the work we produced, these have been some of my favorite pieces in recent memory.

We knew we wanted to close out with a Galaxybrain co-write but we weren’t sure which of our lanes to feed. We figured, hey it’s the season of giving: why not both? 😏 In true Cass & Crystal fashion, this started out with us just being thirsty (we wrote the smut first lmao) but ended up being super heartfelt and emotional? Please be sure and let us know what you think, we couldn’t be prouder of this one!

Warnings: Reader x Calum, Reader x Ashton, Calum x Ashton; a relatively new throuple trying to figure out how to express their feelings for one another, filth but make it fluffy, unprotected sex within a triad relationship, oral sex performed on both a male and a female, manual stimulation of both a male and a female, cum play

Word Count: 9150

Cass & Crystal’s Masterlist // Hoe For The Hoe-lidays Masterlist

Let us know what you think!

“Food’s here,” a voice quietly announces with a rap on the door.

You turn to see Calum in your bedroom doorway, sheepishly mouthing ‘sorry’ when he realizes you’re on the phone. You step over to him and whisper, “I’m almost done, bub,” reassuring him with a quick peck on the lips.

A few minutes later, you follow the sounds of loud laughter and conversation to the living room; you smile when you see Ashton standing there, in the midst of an animated story while Cal sits on the couch, hanging on every word, laughing as if it’s the funniest thing he’s ever witnessed. You honestly wonder if maybe it is.

You bounce over behind Ash, throwing your arms around him, nuzzling his back; his leather jacket feels cold against your face so you assume he hasn’t been here long. “I didn’t know we were seeing you tonight,” you chirp.

He chuckles, slinging an arm around you. “I was texting with Cal when he was ordering dinner and it sounded good so I invited myself,” he explains, kissing your forehead.

“Bullshit, I absolutely invited you!” Cal insists, smiling eyes betraying his words of protest. You giggle at their banter and untangle yourself from Ash to serve yourself some dinner. Cal continues his teasing, “The food sounded good, just admit you missed us and move on.”

Ashton sits down on the couch next to Cal and nudges his knee tentatively with his own. “Of course I missed you,” he says simply. The two men exchange sweet, almost shy smiles and you feel your entire being light up with affection as you watch them.

It’d been four months since you and Ash had asked Calum to be a part of your relationship and while the three of you were still individually and collectively deciding exactly what all that means, you were happy and that’s all that mattered to you.

In the year and a half you were with Ashton, it was as intense and meaningful a relationship as you’d ever had - but it was never quite right and you’d split up a handful of times. During one of your “breaks” last year, a friend of a friend suggested that Cal might be the answer to your search for a new roommate. You met for coffee one day and immediately hit it off; you’d be lying if you said you didn’t quickly develop feelings for him but more than anything at that point, you needed a friend and Cal was there for you when it really counted.

It came as no surprise that when Ash started hanging around again, he bonded with Cal as instantly as you did and the three of you became inseparable. You and Ashton reconciled once again and couldn’t help but notice how much more communicative and at peace with each other you were with Calum around. It’s like he had been the missing piece all along, he made everything feel right - and you eventually told him as much.

Which is why you’re struggling so much with the bad news you have to deliver to your boyfriends. You sit on your living room floor, picking at your dinner, going over the dilemma in your mind for the 100th time, trying to find a different solution.

“Darlin’?” Cal’s gentle but firm voice shakes you out of your thoughts and you look up blankly. “Ash asked if you wanted another soda.”

You blink a few times, as if that will reset your mind and bring clarity. “Oh. No thank you, love, I’m good!” You call out towards the kitchen.

“You feelin’ OK?” Cal asks, reaching across the coffee table to stroke your arm. “We’ve been talking about this food all day and you’ve barely touched it.”

You look into his dark eyes, full of care and concern and know you have to be honest with him. “I need to talk to you both about Christmas… it’s not great,” you admit.

Ashton searches your face as he sits back down. “Is your mom alright?” He gently asks, remembering a health scare your family was dealing with when he went home with you last winter.

You offer him a faint, loving smile. “Everyone’s fine… great, even. Uh… my sister is getting engaged,” you share, chewing your lip.

“Oh! ...Oh,” he responds, starting to understand the issue.

Calum looks between the two of you, baffled. “I don’t understand, why is that bad? I thought we liked her boyfriend?”

“We do,” you start, carefully. “It’s just… With this news in mind, I don’t know if it’s really the right time to tell everyone about our relationship now.” You can’t bring yourself to look in Cal’s eyes yet, not wanting to see if he’s as hurt as you fear he may be.

He sits back on the couch, trying to process. “I thought you said your parents would be super understanding and chill about us?”

Ash sees you struggling to find the words so he tries to help. “They would be. They will be,” he reassures Cal with a warm smile. “I think the concern is that an engagement might seem kind of mundane compared to an announcement like ours. What’s more exciting than a daughter bringing home one son in law? How about the other daughter bringing home two?”

“They’d spend the whole time doting on us, making sure we’re comfortable, Facebooking all the extended family who’s coming to visit to make sure no one says anything that might offend us… her moment would get totally overshadowed,” you explain. “And I’d hate that, this is a big deal, she deserves to be The Story.”

Calum listens intently, nodding. You finally catch his gaze and are relieved to see nothing but understanding and compassion on his face. “OK. Well, wouldn't it be better if I just didn’t go at all then?” He offers sincerely.

Your exclamation of “Bubba, no!” blends with Ashton’s soft sigh of “Cal…” and you all have to laugh at the outburst.

"That's not me trying to be dramatic or anything, I just don't want to cause any trouble," he shrugs.

You scoot around to come sit next to the couch. "I've really been looking forward to us spending our first Christmas together," you insist, squeezing Cal's knee. "If you're uncomfortable with coming under these circumstances, I understand but for what it's worth, I would like you there."

Ash places his hand on top of yours, reassuring Calum as well. "The family's already expecting you, just as a roommate," he points out. "Plus… trying to keep our secret could be kind of fun." He winks at Cal, who can't resist breaking into a wide grin.

Your “fun” holiday couldn’t be off to a worse start the next morning when Ashton arrives bright and early to pick you and Cal up only to find you still in your pajamas, rushing to finish getting your bags together. After a few minutes of Ash stomping around, huffing about getting a late start, Cal, peacemaker that he is, offers to help him pack the car while you finish up.

You meet them in the driveway a few minutes later, dragging your suitcase behind you. Ash promptly snatches it away from you without a word and you glare at him fiercely.

Calum appears at your side and holds you by the waist. “You can’t blame him for being irritated,” he says quietly, rubbing your arm. “You knew what time he was coming, you should have been packed.”

“Yeah… but,” you start.

Cal is already shaking his head. “No, darlin’, there’s no excuse. We had a plan, you should have been ready.”

“See!” Ashton says, coming up beside the two of you.

“Well, you don’t get to gloat, babe, you could have handled it better,” Cal chides.

“I don’t like it when you don’t pick sides,” Ash says, coming over to peck Cal’s cheek. He presses his lips to the top of your head. “I’m sorry I was a grouch.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t ready and delayed us 15 whole minutes,” you reply.

Cal pinches your hip. “Passive aggressive much?”

Ash shrugs at you. “It’s coming out of your breakfast time. It’s a 6 hour drive, love.”

“I’m aware, love,” you fire back, helping yourself into the back seat. He sighs as you pull the hood up on your sweatshirt and stuff your hands in the pocket.

Ash huffs as he shuts your door. Cal gently grabs his arm. “Give her a few minutes. We’ll make breakfast quick, coffee and bagels; smother hers in cream cheese, get some caffeine in her and she’ll forgive you,” he reassures.

His prediction is spot on and by the time you’re halfway through your cup of coffee, you’re leaning into the front seat to run your fingers through both of your boyfriends’ hair. “I’m so glad I get to take you both home with me,” you say warmly. “I’m sorry it can’t be exactly what we wanted, but I know it’ll still be special, because we’ll be together.”

The rest of the drive goes smoothly and when you arrive at your parents’ house, the family is waiting at the door for you; after introducing Calum, you’re immediately whisked away by your sister, gushing about the recent trip her boyfriend took her on for their anniversary. You listen quietly and hope your smile doesn’t give anything away, you love that she has no idea what’s coming in a few days.

Your dad loves Ashton and couldn’t be more thrilled that you brought him home again; he offers to help him unload the car and makes a big show of pointing out how similar their leather jackets are, going so far as to make a “like father, like son” joke.

You sneak a few apologetic glances over at Calum, who you hope isn’t feeling too left out in his role of “your roommate” as he makes small talk with your sister’s boyfriend. You feel endlessly grateful for your mother when you see her sit down and start showing Cal all the gourmet vegetarian recipes she’s bookmarked on her iPad, asking what he’d prefer for Christmas dinner; she’s clearly charmed by his shyly polite responses and you fight the urge to go over and kiss over his squishy, crinkly face as her attention continues to make him more smiley and flustered.

While your mom and sister set the table for dinner, your dad and Ash carry the luggage to your respective rooms for you to get settled; you take advantage of the opportunity to break away and check in with Cal, under the guise of showing him the trick to operating the shower in the guest bathroom.

You turn the overhead fan on to help drown out your conversation. “You doin’ OK, bub?” You ask, massaging his shoulders.

He squeezes your hip. “It was hard at first but your mom’s sweet,” he gives you a sad smile. “Guess I didn’t realize how weird it’d be to see you and Ash act like a couple again, since I’m used to seeing you be… whatever we are.”

“The best thing that’s ever happened to me, that’s what we are,” you easily respond, drawing him in for a quick, soft kiss.

He holds you by the hips, resting his forehead to yours. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “You better get out of here before people get suspicious.” He presses his lips to your forehead and you step out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

You spend the next few days trying to make sure Calum doesn’t feel left out. Your dad invites him to join some of the “future son in law” activities he’d planned but Cal is easily swayed to stay with your mom and help around the house. His height and muscle mass are highly desired for decorating or carrying in groceries and he’s so sweet and well-mannered, your mom is just tickled to have him around. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think she had a crush on him.

The day before Christmas Eve, Cal agrees to join the men for lunch and last minute shopping; your mom encouraged him to go because she wanted to make a secret shopping trip with you so you could pick out a few gifts for the family to give him so he didn’t get left out.

From what Ashton tells you when they return, the outing seemed to go well; you chatted with Cal a little that evening and he seemed to be in good spirits, happy with how things had turned out. But you can still sense him needing the affection you haven’t been able to provide; aside from a stolen kiss here and there, you’d barely touched him since you arrived and he and Ash had been keeping their distance so as not to raise eyebrows. What weighs on you most is knowing Calum hadn’t slept alone since the three of you became the three of you and you can see it wearing on him.

Ashton climbs in bed next to you. “Love… who’re you texting?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

“I just want to make sure he’s OK,” you say sheepishly.

“He’s fine, love,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek, then letting his lips trail down to your neck. “You’ve said he’s had fun with you and your mom and I saw him have a great day today. He’s good… now, me on the other hand? I could use some attention.” His lips firmly attach to your jaw and he’s practically laid himself on top of you, hovering.

You giggle at his lack of subtlety. “When do you not want attention?” You tease, pulling him into a hungry kiss. “I’ve been missing you too, Ash. I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you much, I’ve just been worried about how Cal’s handling things and I love my family but being around them is kind of draining…”

He cuts you off with a sweet kiss. “I know, baby… ‘s why I thought we could use a little stress relief,” he flirts, leaning in to mouth at that spot behind your ear that makes you crazy.

You hum with interest and brush his hair off his forehead. “We’d have to be quiet, we can’t have another incident like last year,” you say with a smirk.

Ash pulls back to playfully glare at you. “We’ve gone over this, technically that noise I made was your fault. If you hadn’t done that thing with your tongue, I wouldn’t have cum so suddenly and the incident would’ve been avoided,” he argues, tickling your side.

You try fighting him off to no avail. “My sister did think it was pretty funny… after the initial horror wore off,” you giggle, batting at his hands, trying to get him to let up.

After another minute or so of play fighting, you “win” by wrapping your legs around Ashton’s body and using them to draw him back over you. He kisses you with a little more emotion behind it than last time, pulling away to whisper, “I’m very happy I get to be here with you.” Your stomach flips at his sincerity and you wrap your arms around his neck, letting your kisses tell him how much you appreciate him.

Things start to heat up and Ash’s hands slide up your sweatshirt and over your hips; his hands are slow to tease you the way they usually do and when you rock against him, you’re slightly surprised you don’t feel him straining against his sweatpants yet. Your fingers travel under his long sleeve tee and dance over his abs to meet his waistband. You’re just about to dip your hand in when he stops you.

“Does this feel weird to you? This feels weird to me,” he sighs, flopping over onto his back beside you. He runs his hand through his long, dark hair, distressed. “Why does this feel weird to me?”

You roll onto your side, curling up next to him. “Well… we haven’t been intimate together, just the two of us, since Cal happened,” you say gently, stroking softly at his chest. “Do you think maybe you miss him being with us?”

“Yeahhhhh, I think so…” He lets out a long exhale, playing with your hand on him. “I just… it’s silly, you and me had sex a million times before we met him and now… I pull away from you and expect to see his eyes smiling at me while he kisses your shoulders. Expect to feel your skin already warm from his touch… expect to feel him warm next to me. Want it, even.”

“Ash,” you pout, touched by how he’s opening up to you, how open he’s being with himself about his feelings for Calum. “It’s not silly, you care about him. It’s not that you and I are suddenly uncomfortable with each other, it’s just that we’re used to more than this now. Need it, even.”

You rest your head on his chest and lay together, quiet and understanding while you both evaluate your feelings. After a while, you decide to lighten the mood, lifting your head up to tease, “A million times, eh?”

Ashton laughs loudly, clamping his hand over his mouth to muffle the noise. A beat passes and he meets your eyes for the first time since this conversation started, giving you an almost shy smile. “Think we could slip him in here undetected?”

You grin at him as you reach for your phone. “I don’t think the three of us would be able to keep it down, so no funny business,” you warn, texting your boyfriend. “But at the very least, we’ll get some alone time, even for a few minutes.”

Ash gets up and cracks the door, waiting for Cal to make his way down the hall; when he appears in the doorway, you see Ashton’s shoulders instantly relax. He gently closes the door behind him and wraps Calum in a tight, warm embrace; you can’t tell what Ash murmurs in his ear but whatever it is, it casts a soft, lovestruck glow across Cal’s features when he hears it.

His eyes meet yours and you open your arms wide. “Come lay with us, bubba,” you invite him.

“But…” He motions to the door, looking unsure.

Ash shrugs, “We can say we’re watching a movie.” He rests his chin on Cal’s shoulder from behind. “What do you say, babe? We miss you.”

Calum relaxes, gently reaching up to scratch at Ash’s scruff. He moves toward the bed but clearly doesn’t know what to do.

“Lay next to me, bub!” You smile, patting the bed next to you.

Ash lets a soft smile cross his face. “Why don’t you get in the middle?” He suggests.

Cal lays next to you and you instantly snuggle into him, throwing your arm across his body while Ash settles in on his other side. Cal wraps his arm around you and kisses your forehead; you look up with a pout and he presses his lips to yours. He pulls away from you when he feels Ashton nuzzle his cheek; Ash looks at him lovingly and gently plants a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Thought we were cuddling, lovers,” Cal whispers against his mouth.

“We are… just wanted to give you affection too,” Ash murmurs.

The three of you lay quietly for a while, Ash’s head next to Cal’s on the pillow and you draped across Cal’s body. His arm is tight around your back while he and Ash shyly play with each other’s fingers.

Ash looks over at you and you watch as his eyes take you in. “Our girlfriend sure is beautiful, isn’t she, Cal?” He whispers, lips gently pressing to Cal’s jaw.

“Gorgeous,” he agrees, turning his eyes to you, sweeping your hair back. Ash leans in to you first for a kiss, with Cal wanting one right after. You sigh, scooting up so you can rest your head in the crook of Cal’s neck, and let yourself drift to sleep. Calum knows immediately, he’s felt your even breath on his neck many times.

“She sleeps so easy with you,” Ash comments, brushing his fingers against Cal’s for the umpteenth time. Cal finally laces his fingers with Ashton’s, looking over at him. They stare at each other for a few moments before Ash speaks again. “I’m so glad you decided to come with us after all… I know it’s not perfect and not what we talked about, but I don’t think either of us would enjoy this without you.”

“I’m really happy to be here,” Cal responds quietly, squeezing Ash’s hand and your sleeping body gently. “I was definitely missing all of this though... thanks for bringing me in tonight.”

“We needed you,” Ash confesses, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Weird when you're not here now.”

Calum turns his face toward Ashton’s, nuzzling in and enjoying the warmth of his boyfriend, his rough hand wrapped with his; he grins against Ash’s cheek and Ash responds with a kiss to his forehead.

Cal stays, wrapped in the both of you, for another 45 minutes before the men agree it’s time to call it a night. He tries his best not to wake you as he slips out of bed but he fails, leading to an extra 15 minutes of your soft whines and insistence that he stay. He finally leaves you with a passionate kiss and a kiss on the cheek for Ash.

The next day, Christmas Eve, goes by fast. Various family and friends are in and out of the house all day, stopping by to share their holiday greetings. Continuing your family’s tradition, the men head out in the afternoon to pick out and haul home a Christmas tree and after dinner, you all decorate it together.

Like you’ve done since you were kids, the lights in the living room get turned off for a dramatic “reveal” of the lit and decorated tree when you’re all finished. The multi-colored lights get plugged in and brighten up the room, illuminating your sister’s boyfriend down on one knee. You squeeze Ashton’s hand and subtly brush your pinky down the back of Calum’s hand. Her “moment” is perfect and you silently thank your boyfriends with your eyes for understanding why you wanted this for her.

After some dessert and celebratory cocktails, everyone is exhausted but happy to be together. Your dad gets a fire going and your sister puts on the old Rudolph special you loved as kids; you plop yourself in Ashton's lap on the couch, with Cal sitting close by, close enough for you to keep throwing him little glances undetected. You know it must’ve been hard for him to go back to bed alone after the time you spent together last night and even harder today, having to watch you and Ash continually couple up and be gushed over by your holiday visitors.

Halfway through the show, your dad starts snoring so Mom decides it’s time for them to head up to bed. Your sister and her fiancée make it through to the end of the show but when you suggest following it up with Frosty The Snowman, they decline and tell you and the guys goodnight.

After such a long day, filled with so much unspoken emotion, it's surprising how quiet the three of you are now that you're alone. Sitting with your men in a room lit only by the warm glow of the fire and the soft colored lights of the tree - this was the type of scene you imagined when you envisioned your first Christmas together. But the feeling's not quite right.

You peck Ashton on the cheek before sliding off his lap, moving to sit on the other side of Calum, putting him in the middle of you and Ash. You run a hand through his hair, tentatively at first, just in case everyone in the house isn't quite settled yet. "How are you, bub?" You ask softly.

He closes his eyes, leaning into your touch and you feel your heart both swell and break a little at how badly he was clearly needing your affection. "Good. Tired. Happy I can finally do this," he replies, leaning in to give you a short but needy kiss.

When he pulls back, he grabs your hand out of his hair and brings it up to his lips for a kiss; he waits a beat then reaches for Ash’s hand and kisses it as well. “Missed you too, bub,” you murmur with a smile.

Ash looks at both of you, adoration in his eyes. You recognize that look on his face, the one that means he’s searching for the right words, trying to line up his emotions with his nervous tongue.

You squeeze his other hand that’s resting on the back of the couch behind Cal, sensing he needs encouragement and he glances at you, grateful.

"We both missed you, Cal,” he starts, shaking his head as he decides to go all in. “I’ve missed you, is what I mean actually. Not being able to have you close the past few days has me realizing how much closer I would like you to be."

He cups Cal’s face, stroking gently with his thumb while he waits for his words to sink in and his nerves to settle. He inches forward and gently kisses him; it’s brief but Ash is purposeful in the way their lips slot together. When he gets bold and slips in his tongue, Cal visibly tenses and Ash pulls away gracefully, not wanting to push.

You stop yourself from obviously reacting but your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest. You've watched them both struggle to navigate their feelings for each other over the past four months and you couldn't be happier to see at least Ashton take a step towards clarity. You gently rest your palm on top of their intertwined hands and squeeze twice; a supportive one for Ash and a reassuring one for Cal.

Cal, dazed, turns to look at you briefly before his eyes briefly widen as if a light bulb has gone off. He grabs Ash’s neck to pull him in for another kiss, this one more desperate, with daring tongue and teeth.

You quietly pull your hand off theirs, not wanting to intrude on the intimacy of their moment. You can't deny that witnessing their hunger for each other has you feeling needy yourself but you know how important this exploration is for them, how important it is for the three of you, so you patiently sit and watch.

They eventually pull away from each other, panting. You see them exchange a look of some sort and then Calum is reaching for you; he kisses you feverishly while lifting you over his lap and fitting you in between him and Ash. His lips move down to your neck and suddenly Ashton's tongue is slowly tangling with yours; you can tell by his kiss he's still in his feelings and you do your best to match his energy, letting him know you're there for him.

You break apart, one of your hands in each of your boyfriends' hair. You all look back and forth between each other and quietly laugh, ecstatic to be alone together and ready to take advantage of this opportunity.

Ashton gives you another lingering kiss, massaging your breast over your sweater before pulling away and immediately drawing Calum in for a kiss; they sit up on their knees, making out over you and you watch how they lose themselves in it, yet keep their hands occupied in each other's hair, almost as if they're unsure if they should go further. They each let out a quiet groan and you note the tents forming in both of their pants; you decide to help them out and reach to palm their straining cocks while they kiss.

It surprises Ashton more than Cal; he stops their kiss to look down at you. He runs a hand over your face and smiles at you briefly before his mouth is back on Cal’s.

You turn toward Calum, gently lifting his shirt and kissing on his stomach. He lets out an appreciative moan for your touch and you take that cue to unzip his pants; he eagerly cooperates in helping you pull him out of his boxers.

“Oh god,” he moans against Ash’s mouth as you use yours to slick him up before stroking your hand over his now wet cock. You’ve missed him: his sounds, his taste, the way he feels against your skin, the way he appreciates you and the attention you give him. You press sloppy kisses to his length, grinning to yourself as precum beads at his tip, moving to kitten lick at it.

Ashton gently tugs on your hair, wanting attention for himself. You continue rubbing over his bulge, adding in a few squeezes, buying yourself a little more time with Calum. You finally pull off and look up at your boyfriends, still lost in each other, though Cal steals a glance down at you while Ash’s lips are pressed to his jaw. He gives you a little grin and pushes his hand under Ash’s shirt.

You notice Ash falter for a second in reaction to Cal touching him that way but he quickly recovers from his hesitation, moaning quietly and tucking a hand in your hair. You pull at the button on his pants, taking his cock out and slicking him up as well; you swirl your tongue around the head, enjoying the soft groans you hear coming from him, thrilled that you're not sure if they're being caused by you or Cal. You notice that his hand has left you and has begun unbuttoning Cal's shirt; Calum reaches down and yanks at the shoulder of your sweater, gesturing for you to take it off.

Ash quietly sighs at the loss of your mouth but is quickly distracted by kissing over Cal's now exposed chest; you pull your sweater over your head and tug your leggings down while you're at it, leaving you in your bra and panties. You give a small whimper of relief as you press your thighs together before reaching for the cocks on either side of you, shiny and red, begging for your attention. You stroke them both evenly and firmly, watching with pride as their expressions change in response to your actions.

Calum is the first to glance at you and notice your new state of undress. "Fuck, darlin', look at you," he rasps, leaning down to kiss you, sneaking his fingers inside your bra to play with a nipple. "Look so pretty under all these lights." Cal smiles against your lips as he feels Ash's hand stroke through his hair while he kisses you.

Ashton pulls his own shirt off and then his hand snakes between your legs, tracing over the front of the lacy, damp material. "Mmm, so wet for us, baby,” he teases lowly, dipping his fingers underneath your panties to tap lightly at your clit. “Think you’ll be able to keep quiet if we decide to do anything about it?” Cal groans as he sucks just below your earlobe; he loves how responsive you are when Ash taunts you like this.

Proving his point, you let out a whine before quickly biting your lip to fight back any other sounds that might come out. Ash chuckles, suddenly rubbing hard and fast at your clit just to see how much restraint you have. You screw your eyes shut, determined to remain silent. “You’re one to talk, most of the noises I’ve heard tonight have come from your mouth, love,” you point out once you catch your breath. You squeeze his cock and he breathes out a deep moan, proving your point.

Cal chuckles at the exchange and Ash shoots him a glare, pulling him back over to him. “Laugh it up,” he smirks, kissing his neck to distract from his hand traveling to thumb over Cal’s nipple; Cal loudly gasps, body rigidly jolting like he’s been struck by lightning. He grabs Ash’s face with both hands and muffles his moans with an intense kiss.

You turn your focus back to Ash’s cock, knowing Calum is already dealing with a lot of stimulation from the nipple play. You bob your mouth on him a couple times, just because you feel like it and then work on building a steady rhythm with your hand. You bite back another moan when Cal’s hand moves down to cover yours, essentially helping you jerk Ashton off.

Despite their obvious attraction, your boyfriends have never gone beyond the occasional kiss during sex with you so tonight had already been a big step for them. You look up and see Cal, Ash’s lips firmly attached to his neck, looking curious but confident as he watches his hand move with yours. Your eyes meet and you nod, understanding; you drop your hand from Ash’s cock, leaning back to watch Cal seamlessly take over, continuing with the rhythm you started.

Ashton immediately reacts to the difference in touch: the unknown grip, the new sensation of rough calluses running over his shaft, the unfamiliar feeling of a hand much larger than yours stroking him. “Cal,” he shakily breathes, pulling back to look at him.

“Is this alright?” Calum whispers, hoping the quietness of his voice will mask his nervousness.

Ash closes his eyes and leans his forehead against Cal’s, breathing deep, trying to ground himself, trying to process all the thoughts and emotions swirling in his brain right now.

“Don’t stop,” he states with certainty.

Cal’s hand swipes over the tip of Ashton’s cock, spreading around the precum he’s coaxed out, expertly keeping with the established rhythm. You watched Ash’s expression change from confusion to curiosity and now you see it switch to the confidence you’re used to seeing from him, especially in the bedroom; you see his hand fidgeting at his side moments before he clenches his jaw and reaches out to touch Calum’s cock. His strokes aren’t nearly as precise or measured as Cal’s are but his boyfriend doesn’t seem to mind; Cal lets out a throaty sigh of his name and you swear it’s the most erotic thing you’ve witnessed yet.

The men lock their mouths into another heated kiss while they continue to explore pleasuring each other; with them distracted, you slide yourself up and off the couch, moving down to the floor to give them some space and to give you some space to spread out and really enjoy the sight before you. You tug at your nipples like Cal would and slide your hand down your stomach and into your panties to swirl your clit like Ash would. You miss their touch but you’re more than happy to wait your turn for it this time.

Your eyes don’t leave them for a second as you make slow, careful work of pleasing yourself. You watch as Ash boldly tugs at Cal’s jeans, trying to pull them down more; he gets them just below his ass and his free hand grips it tightly. You let out a little moan and Ashton reaches his hand out for you, finally realizing you’re no longer between them.

They pull out of their own little world, searching for you. Calum spots you on the ground first. “What’re you doin’ down there, darlin’?” He teases, moving down next to you.

You press a quick kiss to his lips while he undoes your bra; he quickly moves his mouth down to your tits, lavishing your nipples with much needed attention. “Just enjoying the show,” you confess, looking directly at Ash.

Ash moves from the couch, grabbing a blanket to lay in front of the fireplace. He discards his jeans before beckoning the two of you over to join him. You both crawl over to the blanket and before you get settled, Ash helps your boyfriend out of the rest of his clothes. He wraps a hand around Calum’s cock; he pauses to look at you briefly and then back over to the beautiful man naked in front of him. His tongue darts out of his mouth and before any of you can process it, he’s licking the tip of Cal’s cock.

“Oh,” Cal moans, tucking his fingers into Ash’s hair. Ashton, feeling emboldened by that response, wraps his lips around the head, continuing to test the waters. “Yeah,” Cal mutters. “That… that’s good.”

Ash’s other hand pushes up your thigh and you interlace your fingers with his. You watch as he tests circling his tongue around the tip before pulling back to turn his attention to you. He pulls your panties down, kissing your thighs and up over your lips, letting his tongue spread them so he can tease your clit. He pulls up as Calum settles in next to him, wasting no time in getting his turn at flicking his tongue over your clit.

“Been so good for us, think it’s time we repay you,” Ash murmurs, kissing up to your hip. He watches you tangle your fingers in Cal’s hair and groans when you do the same to him. His hand travels down between your thighs and he pushes two fingers into you. “Cal’s tongue feel good for you?”

You bite your lip, trying to hold in a moan. “Yes, love.”

Cal continues working over your clit while his hand reaches up your body, giving attention to your nipples once again; Ashton’s fingers continue pumping inside you, mouth settled against your jaw, unceasingly affirming his and Cal’s affection for you.

“So patient tonight, love,” he whispers, mouthing along your neck, careful not to leave any marks. “Lettin’ me and Cal play while you’re over here so wet and needy.”

You take a deep breath, overwhelmed at all of the sudden attention. “Wanted it for you, could tell you both needed it,” you admit, digging your nails into Ash’s arm as Cal’s lips enclose your clit and start sucking. “Didn’t mind watching either.”

Ashton grins and plants a sloppy kiss on you; he pulls away to lean down and run his hand softly through Cal’s hair before pulling him up from between your legs to kiss him passionately. Both men groan at the realization that Ash can taste your arousal on Cal’s lips; Ashton takes it a step further and removes his hand from your pussy, sinking his drenched fingers into Calum’s mouth. Cal hollows his cheeks and sucks Ash’s fingers deep into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them, bobbing back and forth on them, wondering when he’ll get to give Ashton’s cock the same treatment.

For what feels like the hundredth time tonight, your jaw drops at the erotic sight before you and you reach out for one or both of your boyfriends to tend to you. Your head lolls back as you whine, “Please... babes… I need you so bad.”

Calum promptly pulls his mouth away with a lewd pop and lays on his side next to you. “Need you too, darlin’, you have no idea,” he murmurs as he grabs your hip, easily turning you to your side and slinging your leg over him. “Can’t remember the last time I went this long without having you.” He takes his cock in hand, running it up and down to coat it with your wetness before easing himself inside you, silencing your soft, relieved exhale with a kiss.

Cal softly rocks into you, sucking gently at your bottom lip, stroking your hair back with his hand; you feel Ashton lay down behind you and begin running his fingers down your back, quietly showing you his care while respecting the moment you and Cal are having, much like you respected their time together.

Your hand moves down to grab Cal’s ass, attempting to bring him even closer to you; you feel his muscles tensing and flexing under your hold as he pumps inside you and you bury your face in his chest to keep from crying out. You hear the slick sound of Ash’s hand working his cock as he watches you two together and you reach for him, wanting him near.

“I’m here, love,” he reassures you, nibbling at your ear, massaging over your breast. “You two look so fuckin’ good together, couldn’t help myself.” He extends his arm, reaching to squeeze Cal’s bicep.

Your hand searches behind you until it finds Ashton’s cock, throbbing against your ass; you give it a squeeze and he whimpers into your skin.

“Ash needin’ you too, baby?” Calum asks, voice scratchy with desire. “Know you’re gonna make him feel so good, just like you’re doin’ for me.” He gives you a couple more slow thrusts before he pulls out and helps you onto your other side where Ashton lays waiting.

You smile hazily at Ash as he lifts your leg over his hip and taps his cock against your clit. “So generous with your body, love,” he praises you, hissing as he slides into your wet heat. “Treatin’ us both so good tonight, thank you, baby.”

You caress his cheek as he starts slowly thrusting into you; you press your lips to his and you both lose yourselves in a slow, intimate kiss. Calum hangs back, watching you two communicate what you need to; when Ash breaks the kiss to moan into your mouth, Cal reaches over and begins to play with your breasts.

Ashton’s large hand grips your ass to pull you closer, getting a deeper angle that has you seeing stars. You twist your upper body toward Cal and he kisses you briefly before moving his lips back to your nipples. You push your hand down his body to find his cock, getting in a few strokes before he stops you. “Trust me, darlin’, I’m not needing any help right now.” His hand slips down your body to rub soft circles on your clit. “Let us focus on you.”

“Babes,” you sigh in the form of a soft moan, raspy as it leaves your lips. The sound is so sensual it causes Ash’s hips to lose rhythm and he lets go of your ass, giving a few shallow thrusts before pulling out.

“You gotta take Cal, baby, I need a minute,” he pants, clearly on the edge of losing it. He nuzzles his nose against yours, helping you turn back to your other boyfriend.

“Hey, darlin’,” Cal coos, grinning as he enters you again. You immediately pull him as close as possible.

“Want you both close,” you announce, looking over your shoulder at Ash. He scoots in against your back, kissing over your shoulders. You sigh, “Thank you.”

You give Ashton a short kiss before turning to press your face into Calum’s chest as he works his hips a little faster, harder. You feel a moan reverberating in Cal’s chest but it’s muffled when it spills from his lips; you look up to see him kissing Ash hungrily.

You moan, getting lost in your own world, letting Cal have your body, feeling his body on yours, Ashton’s body at your back, the strength in their frames as you lay between them.

Calum pulls out and turns you back towards Ash. Ashton is still breathing heavy and his kisses are needy, almost frantic, as he pushes into you. “I’m sorry, love, I’m s’close,” he chokes out. “Between you and Cal…”

You cut him off with a kiss. “Nothin’ to apologize for, love,” you murmur. “Want you to cum for me.”

His fingers dig in and hold on to your ass hard, pulling you tight against his body. “Cum for us, Ash,” Calum whispers as he slides his hand down to grip Ashton’s ass, causing Ash’s hips to stutter and jolt against you. You watch Ash pull on Cal’s neck so he can sink his teeth into Cal’s plump lower lip as he spills his cum into you, shuddering in your arms. You let out a loud moan and you all hold your breath waiting to see if it’s woken anyone up.

Once Ash comes down, he tenderly kisses you. “Love,” he murmurs. You give him a few more sweet kisses before you feel Calum’s eager fingers on your skin.

Ashton helps turn you around and his lips shower your shoulders and neck with affection as Cal sinks into you. He groans at the new sensation of Ash’s hot cum surrounding his cock, making you feel even more wet and warm to him.

Ash pushes his hand between your bodies and starts rubbing your clit in time with Cal’s thrusts. “It’s your turn, love, been so good and selfless tonight. Let Cal feel you cum,” he coaxes. “Look at you, look at Cal, look at how good you feel to our boyfriend.”

Cal’s eyes are screwed shut, his lip between his teeth as he tries to hold in any noises. “Calum,” you moan softly. His eyes open to find yours and you lean in for a feverish kiss, a kiss that becomes all tongue as you work your body against him.

Ashton mutters “Fuck” behind you and Cal lets out a guttural moan as you start to squeeze around his cock. You whine helplessly, “I’m cumming.”

“I feel that… let it go,” Cal encourages. You press your face into his chest to quiet yourself and without thinking you start biting and sucking his skin. Ash keeps rubbing your clit through your orgasm until you gently push his hand away, too sensitive to let him continue.

When Ash pulls his fingers up, it’s immediately noticeable they’re covered in both your arousal and his cum that leaked out of you. As soon as that registers to Calum, he grabs for Ash’s hand and takes his fingers into his mouth again, cleaning and sucking them like before. Once he’s done, Ashton takes the opportunity to explore a little more, pumping his fingers, treating Cal’s mouth like he does your pussy.

You shift yourself slightly back, leaning more into Ash so you can watch Calum come undone. You feel his hips continue to drive his cock into you as you watch the obscene way Ash fingers his mouth. You could almost cum again from the visual alone.

“Gonna cum for us, baby?” You breathe, out of your mind with desire. Cal glances at you with a question in his eyes but you answer it before he has a chance to ask. “It’s OK, I want you to.”

Ashton pulls his fingers from Cal’s mouth and pushes your bodies tighter together. He wraps his hand around the back of Cal’s neck, thumb caressing his cheek. “Need you to cum for us, handsome.” And that seems to do it for him. Cal’s hips falter and he clings to you, groaning deeply as he pumps you with cum. It’s the first time you’ve ever let him cum in you and it couldn’t feel more right. His body is tense for a few more moments and then he relaxes, first pressing his lips to yours and then to Ashton’s.

“You’re gonna make a mess,” he chuckles as he gently pulls out.

“We’ve got plenty we can clean her up with,” Ash shrugs.

Cal considers that point and sits up, lifting your thigh to watch in awe as his cum - at least he assumes it’s his - starts to leak out of you. “Incredible,” he murmurs, leaning in, pressing kisses along your thigh.

Ashton sits up to join him and his eyes ping pong back and forth between watching you drip and watching Cal’s reaction to it. He swirls his fingers in the cum that’s now pooling on your thigh. He pulls back a little, drawing your and Cal’s attention. You watch in shock as he pushes his fingers into his mouth, tasting all three of you together. He moans and repeats the action, only this time, pulling Calum in for a kiss, sharing the taste with him.

They break apart and the three of you smile at each other, basking in the intimacy of everything that’s just happened. Cal lays down next to you, stroking over your hair as Ash reaches for his shirt and cleans between your thighs. When he’s done, he curls up next to you and Cal kisses him and then you. “So lucky to have you both,” Cal murmurs.

“We’re the lucky ones,” Ash smiles, grabbing Cal’s hand, interlacing their fingers and letting them rest on your hip.

“I hate that you have to go to bed alone after this,” you pout, kissing on Calum’s jaw.

“I’ll be just fine, this was worth it. Thank you both,” he whispers sincerely. He squeezes Ash’s hand and kisses your forehead.

You’re practically asleep, warm and naked, feeling safe with your loves when they finally decide it’s time for bed. The guys quickly pull their clothes back on and help you into yours. Ash takes the blanket to the laundry room while you put out the fire and turn off the Christmas tree lights. You hold their hands as you navigate the dark house, pulling them up the stairs.

You stop at the guest room to say goodnight to Cal. “You should come to bed with us,” you whisper.

Calum smiles at you but shakes his head. “I think we’ve already pushed our luck quite a bit tonight, darlin’.” He looks to Ash for backup.

“Your sister got her perfect engagement, we pulled off the world’s quietest threesome… we should take the win,” Ashton chuckles quietly.

You pout but know they’re right. Cal pulls you into him by your hips and kisses you, slow but passionate. “Get to bed, darlin’.”

You walk to your room and stand in the doorway, waiting for Ashton. You smile as you watch your boyfriends flirt, easily the most comfortable they’ve ever been with each other. Ash actively reaches out to pull Cal into a kiss and you decide it’s a moment for them; you lay in bed and close your eyes, letting the memories of the evening wash over you, filling you with warmth and contentment.

Ashton quietly enters the room, unsure if you’re awake; you feel the bed shift as he climbs in and you turn over to gaze at him dreamily. “How you feelin’, love?” You ask, carefully, wanting to encourage him to share with you without seeming like you’re pressing.

He lays on his side and gives you a loving, appreciative look. “Happy. Excited. Very, very grateful to have someone like you by my side,” he reflects, gently tracing where your t-shirt has lifted to expose your hip. “I know it’s taken me a while to kind of figure out what I need from this relationship… even back when it was just us, honestly. You’ve just always been so patient and open with me and I hope I’ve made clear how much I appreciate that. And you.”

You scoot in closer, resting your head on his pillow, your face inches from his. “Even before Cal happened, I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy, Ash. With me, without me… with me with someone else…” You both giggle and you peck his lips sweetly. “I’m glad you’re finding your place in all this. And I’m happy to do whatever I can to help you find it.”

You know it takes a lot for Ashton to share with you like this and you savor it when it happens. You lay yourself on his chest and he strokes your hair as you quietly talk some more. You’re starting to drift off to sleep when you hear your phone buzz on the nightstand. You look up at Ash, concerned, before reaching for it.

“It’s Cal, asking if we’re awake?” You shrug, quickly responding that you are.

Seconds later, your bedroom door slowly opens and Calum carefully closes it behind him. Unlike the previous night, he doesn’t hesitate to help himself onto the bed and snuggle into your back, resting his hand on top of Ash’s on your hip.

“Couldn’t sleep. It just… I don’t know... didn’t feel right being without you both after that,” he explains, kissing your neck.

Light kisses and soft touches are exchanged between you all and then there’s a brief discussion about how long the cuddle session should be. You push to have Cal sleep in bed with you and Ash and though they’re reluctant at first, you eventually convince your boyfriends that the family will be none the wiser as long as you set an alarm to get him back to his room before everyone is up and around for Christmas morning.

Ashton untangles himself from you both to set both the alarm clock on the nightstand and the alarm on his phone, just to be safe. You turn towards Cal and peck his nose. “Feelin’ OK, bubba?”

He smiles, brushing your hair back. “Me? How are you? Tonight was kind of a lot. This week was kind of a lot, I feel like I haven’t checked in enough…”

“Bub, I’m so good,” you promise him, snuggling into his chest. “I’ve got you, I’ve got Ash… I get to wake up with you both on Christmas morning. It seems crazy to say but I actually think this all turned out perfectly.”

You feel Ash press himself tightly against your back, stretching his arms out to hug you both, sandwiching you between the two men. It’s sweet at first and then it quickly becomes silly and the three of you giggle quietly, giddy with exhaustion and affection.

“Plus, now everyone has an idea of what we're all like together so it won't come as too big of a shock when I post a picture of me kissing you both at midnight on New Year's Eve," you grin back and forth between the two.

Calum chuckles, "Oh is that the new plan?"

You wrap their arms tighter across you and contentedly say, "New year, new beginning. Let my sister have Christmas, New Year's will be ours."

Your words hang in the air as you all consider the weight of them. Ash breaks the silence by laughing to himself, causing both you and Cal to look at him with inquiry.

"Care to share?" You ask, using Cal's hand to playfully jab Ash's side, causing him to laugh more.

Ashton looks at you both and smirks, "I was just thinking… if tonight was Christmas sex at your family's house, the fuck are we gonna do to celebrate New Year's Eve at home?"

Calum snickers beside you, a naughty look on his face making you wonder what's running through his mind.

"Well," you start, playfully nipping under each of your boyfriends' jaws. "We've got a whole week to figure that out, now don't we?"

————-

Taglist issues again so my apologies if you get notif’d more than once (or not at all)

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#5sos smut #Cashton smut #PolyCashton smut #Calum hood smut #ashton irwin smut #Calum smut #ashton smut #5 seconds of summer smut #smut #Kindahoping4forever #cal-puddies #cass & crystal #the dream team 🦦🦦#Feedback is appreciated #cass and crystal present: hoe hours #cass and Crystal present: hoe for the hoelidays #I Don't Wanna Spend One More Christmas Without You #Thank you for reading and supporting our clownery this week!#We love you all and happy holidays!

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dreamingmanip · 4 years ago

Text

"MADNESS LOVE"

*GIF NOT MINE*

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Warnings: None (if I need one let me know in my ask!)

Prompt: NONE

Word Count: 1,860

A/N: Okay, this time I didn’t use any prompt from my board on Pinterest. I came with the idea last night (thanks insomnia), and I thought I could make it in 2 parts. Let me know what do you think in my ask, is always open for you. If you want t, like it and reblog it. Thank you very much!

A/N 2: I’m gonna pin this imagine so you can easily find it on my page, I will do the same when posting part 2. :)

A/N 3: This awesome gif is from Pinterest but, it comes from Wattpad. Her account is Ariana-Fic and you can find it in her fic “Soldiers in Intelligence”.

Being a cop wasn't easy, putting your life in danger to protect and serve others sometimes wasn't successful. It was 50/50, every morning you will be walking out home not knowing if you could come back.

It had been three weeks without a person in the unit. Detective Jay Halstead had been wounded in a crossfire in a covert operation; when one of you got hurt everyone took responsibility even if it wasn't that way, only for some it was harder to try not to blame yourself for what happened. You had blamed Hailey for not covering Jay enough even though you knew it wasn't her fault, you even avoided her a few days after that.

She was her partner way long before you were assigned to Intelligence by Sergeant Voight.

Narcotics helped Intelligence in a case; it was your case but somehow their case intertwined with yours at some point, both departments agreed to work to stop the overdoses in the area. You were the best at CO, so it made sense for Sergeant Voight to pick Jay, one of his best undercovers for a purchase. Your skills didn't go unnoticed by anyone in the Intelligence Unit, even for someone with experience like Jay. After the case was over he offered you a spot in his Unit, you doubt it for a moment, you were good in Narcotics, good pay, accumulated vacation days, Voight wasn't known for being a patient person and some co-workers encouraged you to take that step by commenting on how crazy you must be not to accept such an offer.

You were well received by all, perhaps except for Sergeant Trudy Platt, who didn't like strangers or new people in the district. Jay was among the first to congratulate you when you arrived, for a moment you thought you'd be partners but Voight wouldn't break his dream team, so he paired you with Kevin Atwater, whom you've been entrusting your life and darkest secrets to ever since.

Atwater was the first one you told about the nights you stayed late with Jay in Molly's, he was the first to know how those late nights became visiting his apartment, to end up arriving together one morning, to the district. He had told you about Voight's rules and how he was firm with them after Jay's last relationship had gone bad with his partner and that had affected his way of working a bit.

Jay and you decided to go slowly, the only one who would know about you two would be Kevin, it was agreed at least, but Hailey Upton was very good at her job so she soon realized what was happening between you. She had supported you, although she did not agree to hide this from her sergeant, she wanted to see her partner happy.

They were all at their desks, doing paperwork on a case they had closed the day before, when Trudy appeared on the stairs.

"Guess who came back from her mandatory break."

You looked up from the papers in front of you to look at a smiling Jay Halstead, who was looking at Trudy with a raised eyebrow.

"Nice to see you too, Trudy."

"Yeah, now try to get away from the bullets for a while, I don't want to have to worry about any of you for a long time."

Kevin and Adam were the first to approach him, joking and patting him on the shoulder. Kim and Hailey were next, giving him a loving hug before heading back to his places. You had stood up to lean against your desk, your arms crossed over your chest, Jay leaned closer, although he kept some distance, the mocking smile still on his lips. You were the first to speak.

"I see you survived, Halstead."

"Hey, don't say it like that, I'm going to think you're not happy to see me alive."

You pressed your lips together so as not to smile because of his comment, it was the game that both played in front of everyone else, the sarcastic comments to pretend that they were not getting along as well as they should. You nodded and looked at him.

"It's good to have you back."

Jay's smile widened and he put his hands on his hips.

"Look at that, you're happy to have me here."

You rolled your eyes and sat back in your chair when Voight left his office, leaning against the doorframe.

"How are you Jay?"

Jay nodded his head looking at his boss.

"Good, Sarge."

"Good, because I just hung up with the Superintendent and he wants to acknowledge what you did. Tomorrow there will be a public event, downtown."

You all clapped for a moment, before Voight continued speaking.

"Now try not to die until tomorrow."

Without saying more he returned to his office. Jay went to his desk to catch up on all the overdue paperwork, from time to time you looked up to observe him, you were glad to have him back but the moment you knew about the award, you felt a bitter taste in your mouth. Why were they going to decorate him when he almost died?

You stood up and went to the coffee room, took one of the cups on the wall and poured yourself some, you still felt that bitter taste in your mouth. You heard footsteps behind you and looked over your shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

Jay asked, taking another cup, reaching for the pot and pouring himself some coffee as well. You leaned a little to look towards the door, checking that no one was around to hear you. You started to get tired of that, checking over your shoulders to see if no one could hear your conversations or whatever you were doing behind closed doors.

“Uhm, yes, I’m just a little tired. We have been in some paperwork duties from a few cases from the past weeks.”

You took a sip from the cup, making a little grin at the taste of the coffee.

“Well, just for the record, I know when something’s bothering you. We have been together almost a year.”

He looked satisfied with himself, and you couldn’t deny it because he was right, Jay knew you so well almost since day one. You looked at him and gave him a little smile, his mood was good after dealing with a grumpy man at his house because he couldn’t get back to work after being shot, and you definitely didn't want to be the one to screw it up.

Kim walks into the room without realizing the interruption she just made or how you take a little more distance between you two, starts a little chat with Jay and you decide to go back to your desk.

Later, in the locker room, you were finishing picking up some things from your little blue locker, putting them in the gym bag you were carrying that day when Kevin appeared next to you, opening his own locker.

"I don't see you so happy today, you were quiet for most of the day, man you didn't even laugh at Ruzek's nonsense. I thought having Jay back would make you feel better."

You sighed and took a seat on the bench, rubbing your hands over your face before looking at your best friend. You played with your lower lip a bit before speaking.

"Kevin, am I crazy for wanting more in this relationship? I mean, we've worked well without anyone knowing, what difference would it make if we did from the knowledge of Voight, of our friends?"

They both fell silent when an officer entered the room and moments later he left the room, you clenched your fist and struck the cold metal in front of you, you felt frustrated and helpless. Kevin sat next to you, rubbing his hands together as he took his time answering you.

"Y/N, you are a pretty strong woman who knows what she wants, don't let anyone make you feel like you can't, not even some of my friends. If you want, I can talk to him, you know man to man" .

His comment made you laugh a little, releasing a bit of the tension in your chest, you bumped his shoulder with yours, pushing him a little.

"Thanks Kev. I don't think that talk is necessary but I will take it into account for future problems."

"Whenever you need me, girl."

You took your bag, Kevin had helped you lift your spirits but you knew you had to do something with your feelings, for better or for worse.

Jay was in the kitchen when he heard you arrive, a smile formed on his face as he came out to greet you, an ice cold beer in his hand and a hockey game in the background on television. He walked over to you to kiss your forehead, took your bag and set it aside by the door.

"It took you a little longer than usual to get here, I'm sorry I didn't wait for you. Trudy wanted me to fill out some forms for tomorrow and I left earlier."

You couldn't look at Jay without stopping to think about the consequences that your words would have, you knew about his past and you didn't want to be the evil witch who would ruin what you both had until that day. You settled next to him, resting your head on his chest while he watched the game and he made imaginary shapes on the skin of your arm.

It took you a few minutes before you could form a sentence, your voice lacking the strength you had gathered all the way to his apartment.

"Jay, what if we tell Voight we're together?"

Your voice caught his attention, looking at you completely confused.

"Y/N, we both know that we can't say anything at the moment if we want to continue working in the same unit."

You slowly sat up again, turning a little so you could face him, Jay was sure of what he was saying, it showed in his face and in the confidence with which he had spoken.

"Jay, I'm tired of having to hide from everyone, like what we're doing is wrong. Voight will understand if-"

"I've been through this before Y/N, I know what I'm talking about. I also refused to hide my thing with Erin, but things changed. If we tell this to Voight he will remove someone from the team and we know it will not be me."

You felt the air come out of your lungs, as if someone had hit you, Jay realized his mistake when you stood up, he began to move his head trying to speak, he left the beer on the coffee table trying to take your hand .

"Y/N, it's not what- it's not what I meant ..."

Unaware of your movements, you started to take your things in a frenzy, Jay seemed to be talking to you but you couldn't identify his words or what he was trying to tell you, you just left.

To be continued...

#Jay Halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x you #chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #hailey upton #kevin atwater #hank voight #adam ruzek #kim burgess #molly's bar

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angstsfordays · 4 years ago

Text

Beautiful Pain (1)

Chapter One- A post-Blip world

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader

Summary: Post-Blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the Blip.

Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.

That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-blip world.

Chapter synopsis: Post-Blip, you find yourself more alone than ever as old friends are forever gone. You and Bucky struggle with finding life's purpose while trying to move on.

Warnings: Angst. A lot of guilt and self-blaming. Spoiler for ep 1 if you haven't seen it!

Word count: 2.4k

Notes: Here's the first chapter of the series! Check out the prologue if you have not done so! It gives you an insight into the OC's background and history with Bucky before TFATWS.

Hope you enjoy this read!

Opening up a tag list for the first time since I have gotten a request! Message or comment to let me know!

Leave a like, reblog or comment to let me know what you think! 🥰

Previous: Prologue | Next: Chapter Two |

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Present-day

Bucky felt his heart stopped for a moment when he realised what he was about to do to the terrified man from his dreams. Before he could imagine the next scene, his eyes flew wide open and he immediately sat up.

Assessing his surroundings to see that the television was still on, he realised he was home and have woken up from a nightmare. Even though Hydra’s brainwashing has been removed, the memories from his dark past continued to plague him.

The summer blanket you got for him pooled around his waist, his right hand reached out to give it a soft squeeze. The soft texture of the fabric comforted him emotionally as he sat on the cold hard floor. As he regained steady breathing, he looked around to see that it was still the early hours of the night.

He reached out for his flip phone- the one you couldn’t believe he insisted to buy over a regular smartphone. Pressing the buttons, he went to his inbox to see an unread message from you. Bucky contemplated opening it but decided to continue when he decided he wanted to hear from you.

Ever since the blip occurred, the days and weeks seemed to be a blur. Sooner than he realised, six months had just passed like that.

When Steve decided to go back to the past for good, all three of you including Sam were at a sudden loss. Bucky was disappointed but not surprised at Steve’s decision. Sam wanted the best for Steve and showed his support.

However, you were the most affected out of the group. He knew that despite putting a brave front, you were struggling with the loss of your friends in a short span of time. After all, you had spent a good amount of time with the Avengers and had a developed a close relationship with most of the team.

Bucky remembered how you immediately slumped to the floor when you heard the news about Natasha. You were at a loss of words before you started to break down when Steve went to comfort you. You always regarded Natasha as an older sister so her death hit you hard.

He recalled how you held back your tears at Tony’s funeral as you did not want to further bring down the atmosphere when Pepper and Morgan were there. He remembered how Tony was like an annoying but endearing older brother.

When Steve was disappeared from his spot, you didn’t think much of it thinking he would return in a matter of seconds after returning the stones. However, when all three of you looked to see an ageing Steve, you were the first to run up to him. Despite the astonishing expression that painted your face, you reached out to hold Steve’s hands to check if he was real.

Steve’s decision to pass Sam the shield was no surprise to Bucky. Even though Bucky found Sam irritating at times, Bucky knew he was a good man.

While you chose to accept Steve’s choice, it started to sink into your mind that the people once closest to you were gone or getting further. Bucky remembered how you were reluctant to let Steve walk away and Steve let you hold onto him longer.

You and Bucky decided to not let each other be alone that night. You two figured that at least you had each other and you wanted to cherish that.

-------------------—---//----------------------------

Moving forward, Sam had decided to find work with the U.S air force. Sam checked in on Bucky from time to time but Bucky contemplated to respond. After being pardoned for his past, Bucky found himself compensated but he still felt like a prisoner.

He was required to attend court-mandated therapy sessions to make sure he was doing well. You know that it was just a way for the government to have him under surveillance and in check.

He might be the oldest prisoner of war but he was still a super soldier and one with a vibranium arm. Bucky knew he was still deemed as dangerous in their eyes.

When you and Bucky discussed how to move forward, he confided that he wanted to make amends and you showed your support. When he asked about you, you seemed hesitant and a little lost for an answer.

The Avengers are gone. There was no more S.H.I.E.L.D.

Who were you now? What are you fighting for? What is going to be your purpose moving forward? These were all the questions swimming in your head.

You were reluctant to tell Bucky yet but a government official had paid you a visit while you were waiting for Bucky to finish his therapy session.

You were offered a position in a task force to maintain global security in light of a post-blip world. Given your abilities, you were viewed as an invaluable asset. However, you knew better than to take their words for it.

Revealing your hesitance, the official took a harder approach and laid out the truth. You were viewed as a potential threat if you were to not co-operate with the government. You are an unsupervised enhanced individual that is roaming freely. They do not want to allow that in the event that you were to do anything out of your own jurisdiction.

It was the Sokovia Accords all over again, you thought. The official added that you no longer had the Avengers team to fall back on. His words only added to the ache in your heart as you were reminded of your lost friends.

Additionally, he let off that Wanda had been involved in an event that caused the government to review their management of enhanced individuals in the country. Wanda was out of their reach but you were still around. They knew that you have been sticking by Bucky and thus decided to come for you.

Remembering Steve's words from the times of the civil war between the Avengers, you were not able to let yourself trust any words that the official said.

You didn’t want to let yourself be controlled especially by the government whom you knew had hidden agendas that they would not reveal to you. Their words of praises of how you would be a great addition made you felt like you would be nothing more than a tool in their master plans.

“What if I refuse?” You spoke to the official. The official's eyes hardened and his jaw clenched.

“Then Ms L/N, we will have to view you as a threat to national and global security.” You scoffed at his words when you stared dead into his eyes.

“You forgot that I was one of the many to help fight Thanos and brought the world back. This is how you decided to treat me after giving my service to this country? To this world?” You shot back in distaste.

You turned your back on the guy and walked off without giving him a chance to answer.

--------------------------//--------------------------

Hey Buck, I managed to find Wanda and decided to accompany her for a bit. She needs someone now.

I will let you know when I am back.

Don’t miss me too much ok! ;)

Bucky couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face at your last sentence. He missed you but he knew that you had things to attend to. He understood how much you valued your remaining friends. Wanda, being one of them.

-----------------—-----//---------------------———

Bucky sighed when he realised that he was not going to get away easy with today’s therapy session. Dr Raynor was really trying to push his buttons and even took out her darn notebook again.

That ticked Bucky off the most and he reluctantly gave in. He began to share about how he crossed another name on his list of amends. Dr Raynor then gave her opinion about how even making amends wasn’t able to help with his nightmares.

Bucky continued to deny that he had any at all but he knew Dr Raynor was not convinced. Glimpsing down briefly with an unconvinced look, Dr Raynor looked back up to Bucky.

“Look. One day, you’re gonna have to open up and understand that some people really do want to help you and that they can be trusted.”

“I trust people.” Not all but maybe just one. Only one person came to his immediate thought.

“Yeah, give me your phone.” Dr Raynor put aside her notebook before reaching over to take Bucky’s phone from him. As she searched up his contact list, she remarked that there wasn’t even ten numbers in it.

“Oh, and you’ve been ignoring the texts from Sam. Look, you gotta nurture friendships.” She spoke before noting that she was the only person Bucky called all week and how sad it was.

Dr Raynor was going to continue before she stopped herself. She opened up the chat with your name and read your last message to Bucky.

“What about Y/N?”

“What about her?” Bucky retorted.

“Seems like she’s someone you are close to?” Dr Raynor tried to imply something.

“She’s a friend,” Bucky answered firmly. Dr Raynor gave Bucky a glance before probing further. “I’ve seen her around before when she accompanied you at the beginning of your session. She seems nice.”

“She is,” Bucky answered curtly once more before deciding to shoot back, knowing his therapist was trying to probe more than he was willing to share. “What are you insinuating, doc?”

“Nothing. I am glad you at least have one friend. But you need to make more connections with other people.” Dr Raynor tried explaining. Bucky drifted off in his thoughts for a moment, thinking about how he didn’t need more people. He was fine with just you but he didn’t want to let on more than he wanted to.

He didn’t feel the need to explain about his relationship with you when you knew you two were solid. Bucky sighed internally when his therapist asked him what he wanted. Bucky thought of the calm and peace he had in Wakanda, his mind replaying the moments of you and him living a carefree life on the farm.

When he was told that he was finally free, he questioned “to do what?”. Was he ever truly free? The memories from his past, the long list of amends he had in his notebook. Could he ever truly be free from the guilt that constantly plagues him?

As Bucky made his way back to his apartment, he spotted his neighbour, Yori arguing with another neighbour, Unique over the trash. He reassured that he could take care of Yori to this Unique fellow before catching up with the grumbling old man in the alley.

Bucky convinced him that he would give a treat at their usual sushi place and that managed to pacify Yori’s mood.

-------------—-----——//---------------------——

When they were at Izzy’s, Yori mentioned how no one made it past 90 years in the obituary of the newspaper. The familiar waitress came up to the two and remarked if they were feeling adventurous since they did not order the usual.

Giving him a slight smirk, Yori suggested that Bucky should ask her out. Bucky immediately shook his head and gave Yori a bewildered look like he was crazy.

“Why not? Are you seeing that pretty friend of yours that always come to visit?” Bucky knew Yori was referring to you and immediately tried to refute the notion.

“Y/N’s just a friend.”

“Could have convinced me otherwise. You two seem really close.” Yori scoffed at Bucky’s statement.

“Such a pity. If I were 50 years younger, I would have made a move already.” Bucky chuckled at how Yori, despite being a grumpy senior most of the times, actually tried to make a witty joke. He silently agreed that you were indeed a catch and how it was crazy you have not been with anyone.

Well then again, you have always been with him all this while. Of course, as a friend, Bucky tried to convince himself that there was no way he would have a shot with you. You were too good for him and you definitely deserved someone better.

Even though he tried to convince himself, Bucky does not know what to do if you had managed to find someone and will eventually leave him to be on his own. He shook himself out of his inner thoughts and before he knew it, Yori spoke to the waitress.

“He would like to take you out on a date.” Bucky’s eyes shot wide open when he realised what Yori had actually done. Bucky tried to apologise on behalf of Yori for his bizarre behaviour but the waitress did not seem to mind. In fact, she was game and agreed.

After she went off to attend to other customers, Bucky shook his head and couldn’t believe Yori actually became his wingman. Yori then suddenly went silent for a moment. Bucky was nervous before hearing how Yori spoke of his beloved son who had passed away due to an incident.

Bucky listened intently with the guilt gnawing in his gut, his heart heavy with all of the weight of the world.

------———------------//------------------------—

Bucky convinced himself to go on the date with Leah. He decided to give himself the chance to make more connections as Dr Raynor had advised. The date was going well in fact. Leah seemed like a great gal but Bucky felt himself holding back.

There were just too many secrets he was holding in. What would she think if she knew who he really was? Would she even want to be in the same room as him then?

While he tried the whole online dating thing (much to your masked disappointment and amusement), he was not convinced if he could really make a romantic connection with anyone. Who was he kidding? Could he ever?

When the topic of conversation turned to Yori, the overwhelming sensation started to descend onto Bucky’s consciousness. Before he could stop, he immediately tapped out. Giving a pathetic excuse, Bucky rushed back to Yori’s apartment and had the urge to tell him the truth.

However, when he saw the altar that Yori had dedicated to his son, Bucky withdrew himself. He did not want to lose a friend in Yori even though he was dying to say the truth.

Bucky pretended to come up with an excuse to a confused Yori by paying his half of lunch before stalking off. When Bucky returned to his place, he opened up his notebook and stared at Yori’s name.

What was he to do?

A ring on his phone averted his intense thoughts and he reached for his phone.

Hey Buck, I am done on my side.

Would be back soon!

Can’t wait to see you again, missed you!

Bucky clutched his phone tighter and brought it close to his heart. He started counting down the hours till he could welcome you back in his arms.

-------------———----//------------------------——

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #thefalconandthewintersoldier #tfatws #marvel fanfiction #angstsfordays #beautiful pain

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