#just some extra cheesy sappy fluff

[plutoenjoyer]

jooyeon — sleepyhead

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

genre: fluff 𓇬 wc: 1.7k tags: female reader, established relationship, making out, napping, playful banter, not proofread as usual warnings: none

summary: you stay late with jooyeon at the studio, and you can't help that he's so fun to mess with (lovingly). notes: this was meant to be a part of the "jooyeon randomly biting you" wip but it ended up getting too long and becoming its own thing. now with 100x more reader being cheeky and him being an absolute sucker for it!

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

jooyeon invites you to the studio with him if he plans to do some solo practice. it's nice to have some company while he strums away at his instrument for hours, and of course, you don't mind one bit. it's already hard enough to find time to meet with both of your busy schedules, so you'll take any moment of comfortable, quality alone time with him. not only that, it really is a treat to get to see him practice. you think his voice is beautiful, and the gentle lull of his instrument (today, he felt like acoustic guitar) almost always put you to sleep while you're sitting in the corner of the room with his jacket over you like a blanket. it's like being gently guided into a deep sleep, and by god you needed it considering how overworked you were almost all the time. it's warm and safe. you're out in no time.

jooyeon's just about to wrap up when he checks the time. 11 pm. he did not mean to go this late. the other members had waved a goodbye to him what feels like just a moment ago, but in reality it was about two hours. and then he remembers, oh yeah my girlfriend is here, and he's about to ask you if you're ready to head out when he sees your eyes shut, slumped peacefully against the wall.

he feels bad that he made you sit and wait so long. truthfully, he was just so into an idea for a potential song that he lost track of time. he very gently puts the guitar back into the case and gets up, approaching your sleeping figure. he tries his best, for once in his life, to be quiet so he doesn't disturb you. he crouches down onto his knees, resting his cheek against his arms as he looks at you. if anyone were to walk by and see his face they could tell just how in love he was with you.

god, you're pretty. too pretty, the thinks to himself as he watches the way your soft lips are slightly parted as you breathe. he never thought in his twenty two years of life he'd ever care about such a thing but here he was, head over heels for a girl who can't stop biting him.

(and he wonders how you're even able to sleep in such an uncomfortable position. doesn't that hurt your neck?)

gently he taps your arm, and when you don't wake up he grabs your wrist and shakes it a little harder. you were tired, but not tired enough to be able to sleep through that. soon enough you were trying to blink the moisture back into your eyes after having such a good nap.

you slur your words with a small groan of displeasure, "mmn ... joo, are you done ... ?"

he hums in agreement, "mhm, yeah. i'm sorry it took so long." he smiles a bit at how your hair is messed up on one side as you squint at him, trying to readjust to the light.

it would be pretty easy to just stand up right now and grab your things so you both could go home. your bag is right there. but instead, the menace that you are, decide to wrap yourself up tighter in jooyeon's jacket and rest your head back against the wall. you catch the faint smell of his cologne on the jacket as you snuggle into it again.

he looks at you with an unamused pout. "hey."

"just ... mmmfive more minutes ..."

"god, and i'm the sleepyhead?" he scoffs at you, "we gotta go, y'know."

bantering with him was starting to wake you up but you were weirdly comfortable in a way, and taking the fact that you also liked to cause problems for him into consideration, still didn't get up. "you're just mad i napped without you." you don't hide your languid smile.

he decides to convince you with a cheeky remark, "i'll give you a reward if you get up."

"like what?"

"hmm ... how about a kiss?" he slightly sticks out his tongue, trying to give you a playfully flirty expression. his eyebrow raises at you suggestively.

silence. you open your eyes solely to give him a look of disinterest and slight disapproval.

"you could at least go along with it," he whines. but truthfully, he knew that wouldn't work. he's already onto his next mode of convincing. what's the next key to your heart if not for him?

"we can make instant noodles if we get back in time before bed."

by now you're fully awake and shoot him a scrutinizing squint from your unmoving position against the wall. "the buldak or the shin ramyun? choose wisely."

"hmmm ... buldak."

this sparks your interest. "good choice," your tone reflects your immediate approval, "okay, just help me up first," you make grabby hands at him to signal for him to come closer and pull you up. he rolls his eyes at your enthusiasm for the food rather than his affection, yet even if you act silly and intentionally stubborn he still does everything you ask him to just to make you happy.

and happy you are, because he falls right into your trap. before he can lift you up, you grab him by the arms with unexpected force and he almost falls on top of you if not for his quick reflexes. he has both hands on the arm rests of the chair that you're in, hovering above you just inches away from your face. he looks at you in surprise as the adrenaline from the reflexes kicks in.

you grin. "i lied, i want the kiss." you squeeze your eyes shut and purse your lips into a comedic duck-lipped, kissy face. it doesn't last long because after you feel nothing, your eyes flutter open, already giggling at how dumb and annoying you're acting. he looks like he cannot fathom how you're acting right now.

you think he's not going to do it and begin to shift your body up and out of the seat, but you're stopped half way.

"you are so frustrating, you know that," he reprimands you with a slight growl before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. it's clear he savors the feeling despite how he feigns annoyance. you can't ever let him know he caught you by surprise and how your stomach does a flip, because he would never let you live it down.

after a moment you regain your composure (the best you can mid kiss), exceedingly satisfied with how quickly he bends to your will. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him further into you, indulging in the feeling of his slightly chapped lips against yours. he has to steady himself by pressing his knee into the seat, right between your legs and he makes a little noise into your mouth out of surprise. you just can't help yourself if he's going to be that cute. you know that he knows this, and how that aggravates him as someone who claims to be the epitome of manliness.

what was supposed to be a quick peck turns into something more—suddenly he is hungrier for your taste after being provoked so much, turning it into an open mouthed kiss and then a slow, heated make-out session on the well worn armchair of the studio. it's hot. his breath mingles with yours. despite your consistent teasing you are more than willing to melt into his touch. your heart races at the feeling of him searching, wanting more from the heat of your mouth at such a slow and sleepy pace. you quickly feel your face heating up, following his move and willing to give him whatever he wanted from your lips. your hands roam around the expanse of his back and it feels like this moment could last forever.

as soon as you part you look at his love-stricken expression, eyes half-lidded and giving you a crooked smile as he presses his forehead into yours, breathing heavy. his lips are little swollen and pink in the aftermath. you can't help yourself from smiling too, gently running your hands through his hair and twirling bits into your fingers with a satisfied hum. your first thought was that he was so beautiful, and so, so sweet. being with him was thrilling, even if you were doing something as silly as making out like teenagers skipping class.

you're looking at his face like this is the last day you'll ever see it, just admiring how gorgeous he is. he giggles and you feel the faint breath on your cheek. "what?" he gives you a toothy grin, his voice low and raspy and delirious as if he was drunk on your taste alone.

your voice comes out small yet so in love, "'ts nothing. i just like you." which is just scratching the surface of how much you really felt about him.

he looks deep into your eyes, roaming throughout the specks of light that swim through your irises, gives you one last quick peck. "i like you too."

you smile. you know that no matter how silly or stubborn you are he would always be by your side. even when you refuse to get up and he has to coerce you to, even when you spontaneously can't get your hands off each other. you realize the mushy feelings that are bubbling in your throat and threaten to come out as happy tears. in order to break the tension, you joke, "can we still make instant noodles?"

and he laughs, and you feel the warm vibrations against your body, "yes. we can still make the noodles. promise no veggies though."

finally, the two of you get up from the armchair and he's cheesy about it. he grabs your hand, pulls you up into him and spins you. you're always ready to be silly and sappy with him, so you make sure to make a show out of it, all while snickering about how gross it all is. and finally, you make your way home. you think about how good the ramen is going to be. you think about how good it feels, right now, to walk home with him, hand in hand in the cold air of night.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

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[egcdeath]

going the extra mile

pairing: patrick zweig x reader

summary: patrick takes care of you after a rough day at work. 

word count: 2k

warnings: domesticity, established relationship tooth rotting fluff, so much fluff you might have to visit your dentist, brief mention of alcohol, eating, baths, mentions of sex but no explicit scenes, so sappy, very lightly edited

author’s note: this fic is part of my succession au (previous part here) but you don’t need to read it to read this! all you need to know is that patrick and reader are engaged. 

“Honey, I’m home!” you called out as you stepped through the door of your shared apartment, voice a little flat from an exhausting day. 

What began as a joke after you first moved in with Patrick quickly began a critical part of your evening routine, where whoever got home from work later called the cheesy phrase out to the other person, then was excitedly greeted at the door. It was a cute routine and something for you to look forward to after a long day at work—much like the one you just experienced.

Just as you predicted, Patrick appeared at your door shortly after you announced your arrival, beating your equally excited cat by just a few seconds.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted you warmly before entering your space to give you a quick forehead kiss. “How was your day?”

“Stressful,” you huffed, allowing Patrick to take your work bag and hang it up for you. You squatted down to pet your cat, who was now enthusiastically rubbing her chin on your shin.

“I figured it would be. I know big presentations aren’t your favorite,” he acknowledged, ruffling your hair from where you were petting your cat. “So I picked up a bunch of food from that Italian place you like. Want to change into something comfortable then eat?”

“Oh Patrick,” you sighed in relief, looking up at him with love in your eyes. A huge feast was exactly what you needed after such a rough day. “You might be the best fiancé ever.”

As promised, when you returned to the kitchen after putting on a satin pajama set—one that Patrick randomly gifted you early on in your relationship—a variety of takeout boxes sat on the counter from one of your favorite restaurants. You didn’t even think that they did take out, but Patrick must’ve convinced them somehow. Knowing that he would go out of his way to do something like that for you made you want to grab and kiss him. 

You grabbed what you wanted then sat down on your couch, not even bothering to care about marinara stains that might end up on the very expensive piece of furniture. At that point, your comfort mattered more than any material items—a sentiment that you were sure that Patrick would agree with. 

Your fiancé joined you not too long after you sat down, bringing you an offer of focaccia and a glass of wine. 

“You know me so well,” you practically purred, a soft smile on your lips as you gladly took the glass of wine from him. 

Patrick smiled back at you in response, not outwardly acknowledging your praise, but the light dusting of pink on his cheeks letting you know that he appreciated it anyway. You always loved seeing the effects your compliments had on him, even if he didn’t immediately speak his mind. 

“Do you want to watch a movie? Want a foot massage?” he offered, remote to the television already in one hand. It was sweet how he seemed to be going down a checklist of all of the things he knew you liked after a long, stressful day. 

“I think I just want to enjoy your company for now. Maybe an early debrief? Tell me about your day?” you suggested, setting down your glass of wine to take a bite of the food on your plate. 

“My day was pretty boring, to be honest,” he sighed. “We did some run-throughs of Glenn’s speech, then went back to the office and got some boring work done that you don’t want to hear about.”

“Maybe I do wanna hear about it,” you challenged, sitting up slightly straighter to indicate your interest. “Or maybe I just want to hear you talk a little more?” you added, figuring that it would be better to be honest. 

Information about the campaign Patrick was working on would probably go in one ear and out the other, but his voice was always a comforting, grounding thing for you. After having such a busy, stressful day, you couldn’t think of a single better way to unwind than to hear Patrick talk endlessly to you. 

Being the supportive fiancé that he was, Patrick did exactly that, telling you about all of the ins and outs of his day until you finished eating and drinking and were halfway into a food coma. 

Sensing your sleepiness, Patrick paused in his storytelling. “I was gonna run a bath for you, but I wanted to wait so it didn’t get too cold while we ate. What do you think?”

“I think I want to marry you right now,” you gushed, thrilled at the prospect of a warm bath to help you fully unwind from the day. 

As promised, Patrick set up a bath for you, complete with a candle-lit room and the soothing aroma of a bath bomb. You sat in a fuzzy robe and watched from your bedroom as Patrick set up the bath for you, flattered by his commitment to giving you a relaxing evening. 

After he was satisfied with the bath he put together for you, Patrick retrieved you from your bedroom and led you to the tub, as if you didn’t already know where it was. 

“Just yell for me if you need anything,” Patrick told you, letting go of the hand that he was holding.

“What if I need something now?” you questioned as you shed your robe and stepped into the warm, soothing water of the bath.

“What do you need?” he asked curiously, already preparing to get whatever it was that you wanted. 

“Well, I don’t need it, but it would be nice if you joined me. If you want to,” you added shyly, still worried about accommodating your partner years into your relationship. Patrick wasn’t always in the mood to do super romantic things, but after giving you such a nice night, it seemed far more likely that he would accept your offer. 

Your request was received even better than you expected, with Patrick making quick work of stripping and getting into the tub behind you, before letting you recline against his chest comfortably. 

The two of you sat in the tub for a long time, occasionally talking about whatever came to mind, but mostly unwinding in silence and sharing the intimacy of having skin-on-skin contact. 

Once again, you were sure that you could fall asleep right then and there, relaxed by a tiring trifecta of your dinner, the warm bath, and your fiancé’s comforting presence. 

“I never wanna get out,” you sighed contently, turning your head to dreamily look at your partner. 

“I don’t either, but I’m starting to worry that if I stay any longer, my skin’s gonna start falling off,” he showed you his pruning fingers to prove his point. 

“Ew,” you said simply, that being all you needed to hear to get you out. Besides, the water had gone cold a long time ago, and you were itching to lay in bed. 

“I want to get out, but I don’t think any of my muscles work anymore,” you explained as you watched Patrick wrap a towel around his waist after stepping out of the tub. 

“Is this your way of asking me to carry you to bed?” he asked with a hint of laughter in his voice. 

“Depends. Are you offering?” you fluttered your eyelashes at Patrick as if that would somehow sweeten the deal. 

Patrick gave you a wordless grin, one that told you that you were about to get exactly what you wanted. He helped you out of the tub and carried you to bed as he promised, before setting you down and tossing some pajamas at you.

After he cleaned up the bathroom, Patrick joined you in bed, where you were chewing on your bottom lip as you answered a few work emails. 

“Put that away,” Patrick gently chided you, shutting your laptop for you. ��They can have you tomorrow. Let me have you for now?” 

You couldn’t argue with that logic, not protesting when Patrick took your computer and set it on the nightstand on his side of the bed. Though you really would like to get more work done, your partner was accurate in his assessment that nothing would change if you answered that night rather than in the morning, other than your peace of mind. 

Once your laptop was out of the way, Patrick wasted no time pulling you in for a passionate kiss, which felt like the perfect way for you to end your night. As his hands eagerly roamed your body, you thought about how this was something that you both earned, with Patrick treating you to such a lovely evening, and you needing this one final action to complete your night of relaxation. 

Just as Patrick found his way between your thighs, your heated moment was interrupted by the dejected sounding meows of your cat at the door, wanting to be let into the room. Both of you groaned, knowing that if you didn’t address the angry furball waiting for you, you really wouldn’t be able to enjoy your night. 

“We’ll pick this back up in the morning,” he promised you as he got out of bed. 

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” you laughed, sitting up and pulling your discarded nightgown back on while you watched Patrick open the door for your pet. Predictable as ever, she jumped into your bed and sat down where she always liked to sit between you and your fiancé.

“This has to be the most spoiled cat in all of human history,” Patrick commented as he sat back down next to the two of you in bed. 

“Whose fault is that?” you teased as you pet the purring feline. Though he would never admit it, Patrick somehow loved your pet even more than you did. You often found him holding and cooing at the cat, or doing research on new toys and puzzles to enrich her.

“We share responsibility for it,” he dismissed, causing you to giggle. 

“Sure,” you replied, not even bothering to hide the incredulity in your voice.  

As the two of you sat in bed, you settled into your typical evening routine, with Patrick reading a book beside you and you catching up with your friends over text. 

Out of the blue, your partner spoke up, grabbing your attention. “You still haven’t told me about how the presentation went.”

You groaned aloud and turned to look at your fiancé, reading glasses perched on his nose and an open book laid on his chest. His beauty, even in a moment of not being all put-together, felt like it should be a crime. 

“It wasn’t my best work,” you confessed. “It was kinda my fault. I’ve been so preoccupied with all the wedding stuff, that I basically just let Art throw together the presentation. I just felt so unprepared, but it’s fine, I guess.”

“I’m sure you did better than you think you did,” he assured you. “And if you didn’t, that’s also fine. It’s over, and I don’t think anyone’s gonna remember that you were a little unprepared.”

Though you’d reassured yourself with similar words, it was nice to hear it coming from your partner. 

“You’re right. Presentation aside, thank you for making me forget about the real world and all of my problems for a little while,” you leaned over and kissed his cheek, and felt your cheeks warm as Patrick followed up your kiss on the cheek with a real kiss. It amazed you how even after years of being together, he was still able to give you butterflies. 

“That was the goal,” he was obviously happy to see that this evening of sweet actions had the intended outcome, based on the wide smile on his face. 

You bit your tongue to hold back a sappy love confession, knowing that Patrick surely wasn’t in the mood to return you one, but you couldn’t think of anything else more obvious than the mutual love you felt sitting in that bed, thoroughly pampered after a rough day. 

As you laid there next to your grinning fiancé, you couldn’t help but wish that your wedding would come even sooner, so you could look forward to endless nights of domestic bliss. 

[clonedchaos]

Moonlight Ball

Orchids and Oranges: A Yasammy Week Special

Yasammy week brought to you by @yasammyweek!

Trigger Warning: Minor homophobia (And some tooth rotting fluff and sappy pet names)

Sorry this one was nearly two weeks late, I've been struggling with motivation and I'm slowly coming to terms with having ADHD. Sometimes my brain just won't let me focus on what I want it to, unfortunately. :/ (And a bit of an irl extra update that doesn't really mean much but-- I got a nose piercing a few days ago! Yippee! I love it! It has definitely improved my self image some in terms of boosting my confidence. :D A bit sore, but I decided to write to take my mind off it)

Day 3: Prom Rating: G/PG Summary: Sammy and Yaz have the time of their lives at Prom with their friends… even if a few students aren't accepting of their relationship.

AO3 Version:

Tumblr Version:

“Everyone say cheese!”

”Cheese!”

The cameras clicked, leaving Sammy and her friends slightly dazed by the glares of the flash. The boys were done up in tuxes and ties. Kenji had an excessive amount of gel in his hair and Ben was avidly loosening his seafoam green tie. Darius was, of course, wearing a red tie with faint emblems of various dinosaurs on it.

Brooklynn's hair fell down her shoulders in elegant curls. She wore a strapless black dress with a pink ruffled skirt that fell a little past her knees. Glitter was speckled all over the top, giving it an iridescent glint at certain angles. Her faux diamond heels glinted in the setting sun.

Yaz... Gosh, Yaz was stunning. Her athletic physique fit perfectly in a silver side-shoulder gown with a far less dramatic skirt in comparison to Brooklynn's. A black dress jacket wrapped around her shoulders, the sleeves extending down to her elbows. Matching black flats were just barely noticeable; she said she wouldn't be caught dead wearing heels or anything of the sort. Truthfully, Yaz had preferred to wear her usual tennis shoes-- much to Brooklynn's objection. She had expertly done up Yaz's hair in a high ponytail and curled two strands to frame the sides of her face. The blogger had insisted she could do a flawless smokey eyeshadow effect, but Yaz was comfortable in minimal concealer.

She was gorgeous. It took all the self-restraint Sammy had not to scoop her up and shower her with hugs and kisses. Though she wasn't sure she would appreciate the cherry red lipstick stains on her cheeks. Sammy herself had taken ages prom dress shopping; it took numerous facetime calls with Yaz and Brooklynn to narrow down her specific desires. In the end, she had picked out a red ball gown with a cascading skirt. Pink roses went in a diagonal line down her chest with a few others dotted along the hem of the skirt. Unlike Yaz's, Sammy's dress was long enough to touch the floor and help hide her trusty, comfortable boots. To complete the look, Brooklynn had picked out a pink rose headband.

Their parents were watching them in pride, fawning over their outfits and how "their kids were growing up." Sammy even noticed her father getting misty eyed.

"Woo! Party people! Who's ready to hit the dancefloor??" Kenji boomed, picking Brooklynn up and giving her a little twirl.

Brooklynn giggled exuberantly. "Hey! Quit! You're going to ruin my hair!"

"You of all people would know how important hair is, Kenj," Yaz snorted, wrapping her arm around Sammy. Her heart thudded at the touch.

Kenji set Brooklynn down on the ground. In immediate response, Brooklynn leaned forward and playfully ruffled his slicked back hair.

"I'm so excited! I've always wondered what prom would be like!" Sammy chirped, restlessly shifting her weight from foot to foot. "I mean, is it like all those cheesy high school movies? Will there be drama? Will we break into song?"

"Oh, like High School Musical?" Brooklynn asked.

"I used to love those movies," Kenji added.

"What? High school wasn't at all like those movies," Ben crossed his arms with a raised eyebrow.

Darius chuckled and pat Ben on the shoulder. "Oh, Benjamin. Don't you know? ... We're all in this together."

Ben groaned in disgust as the others burst into laughter.

"Alright, kids. Time to take this show on the road," Mrs. Bowman announced, gesturing a hand to the crew's awaiting limousine. For such a special occasion, their parents had offered they ride in style. This was a night to remember after all!

~

"Ooo! Yaz! Look at that! Or-- look! A photo booth!" Sammy had her arm linked in her girlfriends as the group entered the ballroom floor. The theming of this year's prom was "Moonlight Ball." Stars draped down from the ceiling with a disco ball sparkling in the center like a faux moon. The tablecloths and drapery were speckled with stars and clusters of purples, blues, and blacks to form a miniature galaxy. There were even some colorful mosaic planets that were scattered about the room to mimic the solar system.

"They really outdid themselves with this, huh?" Yaz murmured as she glanced around in awe. Their friends were of similar interest and begun chatting amongst themselves.

Sammy couldn’t contain her enthusiasm as she subtly bounced up and down on her heels. She needed to dance! 

“Yaz! Wanna dance?” She chirped giddily.

Yaz blinked. “Me? Dancing? I don’t really know how…”

”It’s easy! Here, I’ll show you!” Sammy whisked Yaz through the crowd until she found enough empty space. She then turned on her heel, focusing in on the upbeat pop music. Definitely not a slow dance by any means! No matter, the Cha Cha Slide is something she'd learned since birth.

”All ya gotta do is follow what the music tells you!” Sammy instructed over the blaring stereos.

”Right foot now!”

Sammy stomped her right foot. 

Yaz chuckled, moved to stand by her side, and followed along. It took her a moment, but she was a fast learner. Soon the two were laughing and playfully twirling one another in between the choreographed steps. At the end of the song, Sammy grabbed Yaz around the waist, picked her up, and spun her. The two giggled joyfully. The world seemed to fall away as the music faded. It was just the two of them, content to be in the other’s presence. What could be better than that? And the night was just getting star--

Someone laughed.

Sammy paused and set Yaz down, glancing to her left. A trio of girls their age was staring in their direction, all huddled in a semi-circle with heads bent close together. A blonde said something Sammy couldn't hear over the opening of the next song. Whatever it was caused her friends to burst into giggles, all three of them casting Yaz and Sammy side glances.

Sammy's paradise fell away before her. Were they... laughing at them? Sammy swallowed down the lump forming in her throat. Her cheeks flushed.

"Sammy?" Yaz asked. Her hands were suddenly in Sammy’s. Sammy looked back at Yaz to find her eyes speckled with uncertainty. Yaz always had beautiful eyes…

”It’s nothing!” She lied right through her teeth. Sammy hated lying, especially to Yaz and her friends. It reminded her back to the days where she was spying for Mantah Corp. But the last thing she needed right now was to spoil their night with a probable confrontation. Yaz did have a history of being the queen of sarcasm after all. And Sammy knew all too well she wouldn't hesitate to call someone out for their nasty attitude.

”Maybe we should get some food,” She offered. That wasn’t entirely a lie, she did have a hankering for some delectable prom treats.

”Are you sure? We just got started?” Yaz asked thoughtfully. Sammy felt her scanning her features to try and discern what was actually bothering her.

”Can’t dance our hearts out on an empty stomach,” Sammy pointed out and quickly led her off the dance floor towards the food buffet. The laughter began to fade over the overpowering boom of the stereos, much to her relief.

The buffet table had pretty standard food; chicken nuggets and fries courtesy of the local Chick Fil A, various fruit options, sodas, coffee, waters. But what Sammy was looking forward to the most were the desserts— brownies, trays of cupcakes, loaded chocolate chip cookies, and even some mini ice cream cups nestled inside a cooler. Tonight she needed to satiate her sweet tooth!

The duo waited in line before it was their turn to load up their plates. Sammy piled on her plate until she had formed a miniature mountain of a meal.

“Hey, Sammy. Try this.” Sammy looked over to find Yaz dipping a strawberry in a rich chocolate fountain. She held it up to her. Both Sammy’s hands were currently occupied in trying to steady her ever growing pile of food. She leaned forward and took a sizable bite, careful not to nip Yaz's fingers. Instantly her tase buds were hit with a smooth and tangy, fruity flavor. The chocolate coating was pure bliss.

"Mhmm. Thash purfect," Sammy rambled with a mouth full of food. Yaz laughed and gave her a quick peck on the side of the cheek. Sammy was about to return the gesture when she felt eyes on her. A young man their age was standing in line behind Yaz, a disdainful look in his eyes. Sammy's face fell.

Yaz noticed the shift in expression and began to turn to look over her shoulder. "Oh! Yaz!" She stopped midway and turned to face Sammy. "Why don't I go find us somewhere to sit?" She asked, privately relieved Yaz didn't notice the scornful look they were getting.

"In that mess?" Yaz laughed lightly, glancing over at the packed circular tables. "We'd be lucky to find a place on the floor to sit."

"What? No!" Sammy moved to stand by her side and nudged her shoulder. "We can't get our gowns dirty! Brooklynn would kill us!"

Yaz laughed again, sending little butterflies fluttering around Sammy's heart. The two abandoned the buffet, Sammy leading the charge to find a space for them to sit. All the while, she still felt those eyes on them. How many people were staring at them; were talking about them? Whatever joy she had been feeling began to evaporate like morning mist. 

After what felt like ages, Yaz and Sammy finally managed to snag a spot... right next to the table of gossiping girls. Sammy tried her best to ignore them, but she couldn't help but eavesdrop on their conversation as she and Yaz dug into their food. 

"... Do you think those two got together because they couldn't find a guy who wanted them?" She caught the brunette snickering.

"Couldn't be me," The blonde replied in faux sympathy.

"It's a shame too. They must've got loads of secret admirers for being famous," A curly haired girl with jet black hair added. "But instead, they turned them down to be with each other."

"Probably just a trauma response given what they've been through," The blonde dismissed. "Things like that are nothing but a phase. It won't last more than a month."

"Is that a bet?"

Sammy felt sick to her stomach. Is that what they thought? What her and Yaz had was... just a phase?

"Sammy? Did you hear me?" 

Sammy jolted and turned her attention to Yaz, whom was sitting by her side. Her hand met Sammy's. She flinched and pulled away. Yaz recoiled subtly, not something anyone would notice unless they knew her like she did.

"Are you okay? You've been acting off since we've got here..." She asked. Sammy couldn't tell whether she was being blunt, concerned, or both at this point.

"Yeah! I'm fine!" Sammy lied again. Her heart felt like it was breaking. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. But she couldn't. What was the use of causing a scene? This was supposed to be their perfect night.

By the look Yaz was giving her, Sammy could tell she knew she was lying. Yaz opened her mouth, about to say something, but thought better of it. "I'm going to head to the bathroom. Be back soon," She said in a unreadable tone. Sammy's heart split in two.

"Alrighty. I'll be here!" She called as Yaz got up and headed off. The moment she was out of sight, Sammy's shoulders slumped and her bright smile withered. She began to pick at her cupcake with a fork, as impractical as that probably appeared.

"Never thought you'd be one to turn down sugary goodness."

Sammy slightly started in her chair and looked up to see Brooklynn flop down next to her. 

"Oof. My feet are beat," She laughed lightly and leaned down to remove her shoes. "The pain of heels, am I right?"

"Yeah," Sammy replied shortly, trying to crack a smile. 

Brooklynn was already on high alert, her gaze searching Sammy's features. It was hard to put anything past Brooklynn. That girl had a nose for deciphering the hidden and unknown. "What's up? I thought you'd be out enjoying yourself."

"I'm alright," Sammy lied again. She hated lying.

Brooklynn crossed her arms on the table and leaned forward. "I know that's a lie, Sam. Spill it. Please?"

Sammy took in a deep breath and glanced over her shoulder. The trio of girls weren't paying her any mind now that Yaz was gone. So, she leaned closer to Brooklynn and confessed. "Alright. Truth is... Yaz and I have been getting looks. Some have been whispering behind our backs saying... less than kind things... I didn't want to tell Yaz because, well, this was supposed to be a fun night. I didn't want to start any drama. And I know how some react to people like... us... I just didn't want Yaz getting hurt if someone instigated violence..."

Brooklynn's features softened. "Oh, Sammy... I'm sorry. I-- I get what you mean. It wasn't always easy growing up with two dads. Don't get me wrong, they're amazing parents. But ever since I was a little girl, when I walked down the street with them, I always caught those scornful glances and snide remarks. I never quite understood why until I was older, and even then it still doesn't make sense." She sat back and gave her a gentle smile. "But you know what? It didn't matter. My dads loved each other, and they loved me. No matter what others thought of them, that was always true. And no amount of hate would be able to stop that."

"How did they learn to work through it?" Sammy asked, still absently picking at her dessert. "Those comments... they hurt. I know they shouldn't, and I know I shouldn't listen, but... it doesn't feel good."

"Not everyone you come across in life is going to agree with you," Brooklynn answered after a brief silence. "There's always going to be self-righteous jerks who think they know best. Whatever they say about you, or you and Yaz, let it roll off your back. They don't know you two. They don't know how you built your relationship brick by brick. Your love for one another, it's special. If they can't see that, it's their loss-- not yours. What's important are the people that love and accept you. They're the ones you need to remember in times like this... Remember what I said on the isle? What you and Yaz have is awesome--"

"Let it be awesome," Sammy finished, brushing away tears. Shoot, her mascara was running.

Brooklynn chuckled at that and dug around at the purse dangling by her waist. She pulled out some wipes and a mascara tube, then went to work fixing Sammy's makeup. "Now, if anyone else tonight gives you two any grief... come get us. We've got your back."

"Thank you, Brooklynn," Sammy smiled. Her soul felt a little lighter. Her friends had always been there for her when she needed them most. Of course they'd have her and Yaz's back against adversity. "...Where are the boys at anyways?"

Brooklynn tossed her head towards the dance floor. Sammy glanced over, careful not to move her head too much in case Brooklynn accidentally jabbed her eye with the mascara brush. Kenji, Ben, and Darius were all doing the Macarena on the outskirts of the crowd; Ben accidentally kept hitting Kenji with his long arms. Sammy laughed, her first genuine one in a while.

Once Brooklynn had finished touching up Sammy’s makeup, she sat back and begun slipping on her heels. “Alright then. Go enjoy the rest of the dance with Yaz. You two deserve it.” Her voice raised and her eyes slid towards the trio of girls who had begun staring at her again. “And if anyone tries to ruin your night, I’m sure they wouldn’t appreciate negative publicity on my blog. Brooklanders are some of the biggest Yasammy supporters after all.” Brooklynn’s gaze hardened into a warning, fiery glare. 

The trio quickly turned away just in time for Yaz to make her way back to the table. “Hey, Brooklynn. What did I miss?”

”Oh nothing, just a bit of a pep talk and a personal beauty appointment,” Brooklynn answered, giving Sammy a side, confident glance. Her lips curled into a mischievous smirk. “Would you like an appointment too, Yaz?”

”Over my dead body,” Yaz snorted bluntly and crossed her arms.

Sammy and Brooklynn giggled at the response. Just then, Kenji came up to them and set a hand on Brooklynn’s shoulder. “C’mon party people! The fun is that-a-way.” He pointed towards the dance floor.

Brooklynn abandoned her chair and took Kenji’s hand, reaching up a smidge to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Alright, alright, we’re coming.” She turned her head and gave Sammy a quick wink.

Fueled by newly placed passion, Sammy stood up. She did a grand curtsy and extended a hand toward Yaz. “May I have this dance, my gorgeous, witty goddess sent from above?” 

Yaz laughed at the cheesiness and blushed as she took Sammy’s hand. “You may, my country strong, beautiful cowgirl…” She leaned forward and whispered, “Sorry, I’m not really good at this pet name stuff.”

Sammy chuckled in response and kissed her on the forehead. “I think it was lovely, mi diosa.”

Yaz’s cheeks were turning as red as a ripe tomato. Sammy couldn’t help but burst into laughter. She’d never seen Yaz so flustered before! It was soooooo cute!!!

Sammy pulled Yaz back onto the dance floor, catching a glimpse of the trio of girls watching them once more.

Let them talk. Let them stare. It didn't matter, not really. Sammy had her family, her friends, and she had Yaz. They were her whole world. And that was all that mattered.

[candied-peach]

ao3: "soft flames on my tongue" rating: T warnings: remile, candle mishap, food, nonbinary emile and remy genre: fluff description: Remy tries to make the evening romantic. Operative word: tries. (prompt from here, lyrics from christina perri's "a thousand years")

And all along I believed I would find you Time has brought your heart to me I have loved you for a thousand years I'll love you for a thousand more

Remy's heart feels like it might pound its way out of his chest, and for once, he's pretty sure it's not because he's two steps away from a caffeine overdose. Emile's on their way home, and Remy's never been more nervous, not even when Emile first stepped into his heart and asked if he'd like to go out sometime. 

It's their fifth anniversary. It's their fifth anniversary, and Remy wants it to be special. He paces the hallway, peering into each room as he crosses it. The living room, where he's put out some cinnamon-scented candles. Warm light flickers across the walls. He's got every season of Steven Universe lined up, for Emile to pick and choose their favorite episodes. He actually made Emile's favorite cookies (peanut butter ones, and he hopes they taste good), and bought some of Emile's favorite chocolates. He even got a special chocolate cupcake with pink glitter. Pink flowers, of course, but different ones. Remy doesn't speak flower, but he hopes he's not accidentally put together a bouquet that says anything negative, because he'll be more than happy to burn the offending petals if required.

The bedroom, where some extra pink flower petals (roses, this time) have been sprinkled across freshly made sheets. More candles, although this time, he broke out the electric ones. No actual flames in the bedroom. He thought it'd be safer to relegate those to the living room. He knows he's being slightly ridiculous (even as he makes sure he's gotten Emile's favorite Starbucks order right). He just wants Emile to come home from work, relax, and feel completely and utterly loved.

Cheesy? Absolutely. Remy doesn't give a fuck. He'd do a thousand and one more cheesy things if it made his Emile smile. Blow through every romantic stereotype and then some. He sips on his iced vanilla latte, trying to ignore the frantic tattoo of his heartbeat, as he hears two things- Emile's key in the lock and a soft meow as their cat winds through his legs.

"Hey, sweetheart," Remy coos, bending down to give their fluffball some scritches behind the ear. She purrs smugly as Emile steps into the kitchen, and Remy's heart floods with love. They look tired, dropping their bag on a chair, their pink headscarf a little askew, but their smile is brilliant when their soft brown eyes land on Remy's figure.

"Starlight," Emile breathes, stepping into Remy's waiting arms. Remy manages to place his latte on the table, before his arms close around Emile and press them close, his eyes sparkling as he looks down into their tired features.

"North Star," Remy murmurs. His guiding light. "Beautiful." He brushes a kiss across Emile's nose, making them giggle lightly. His throat tightens with emotion. "Happy anniversary, babe," Remy says, and Emile's smile blooms, soft and sappy.

"Happy anniversary, darling," Emile says, peppering kisses across Remy's jaw and up one cheek. "I see you made something," Emile notes, looking around the kitchen and zeroing in on the kitchen sink, still full of baking implements. Remy flushes scarlet. In all his preparations, he might have sort of forgotten that he needed to finish washing up.

"Oops," Remy says. "It's a surprise."

"You are such a dork," Emile says fondly, clasping one of Remy's hands in their own. They sniff the air, their forehead creasing. "Do you smell something burning?" They ask, as Remy hears an alarmed meow come from the living room.

"Shit," Remy blurts out, dashing into the other room, just in time to see their cat's tail disappear behind the sofa. One of the candles has been partially knocked on its side, and it looks like it's trying its best to set the end table on fire. "Shit, shit, shit-"

"I'll get it," Emile says calmly, crossing the room as Remy dithers, panicking. 

"Sorry," Remy says, his voice weak, as Emile fixes it. Thankfully, there is nothing but a slight scorch mark and stray drips of wax left. "I thought a few candles might be romantic."

"You almost burnt the house down," Emile teases. Tears threaten, but Emile sees the telltale sheen in Remy's eyes, and immediately comes back, holding Remy's hands and pulling him closer. "No harm done, love," Emile soothes. "I promise. It's okay."

"I just- I wanted it to be perfect," Remy says, his voice gaining a slight wobble. "Starting a house fire was not on my list of priorities."

"I know, starlight," Emile murmurs, brushing another kiss across Remy's cheek. "It's fine. And the kitty looks fine, too." Remy looks down at Athena, who has slipped out from behind the couch and is now pawing at Emile's leg. Fully unharmed. 

Remy breathes a ragged sigh of relief, and Emile guides him to the couch, pressing him to sit down.

"Are these the only other candles?" Emile asks. Remy nods.

"The ones in the bedroom don't have an open flame," Remy explains. Emile smiles softly, then carefully blows out each candle.

"Just in case," Emile says, eyeing Athena, who meows innocently and starts cleaning her tail.

"I made cookies," Remy blurts out. "And got you stuff. And-" Remy points at the bouquet of pink flowers. Emile's face lights up as they process each thing.

"Remy," Emile says, their voice so full of love, Remy nearly starts crying again. "I got you something," Emile says, struggling to get up. "It's in my bag."

"You did?" Remy asks in surprise. "Why?" Emile's smile broadens.

"It's our anniversary, silly," Emile says, disappearing into the kitchen. When they come back, they're holding a small box.

"What is it?" Remy asks. Emile sets it into his hands. 

"You'll see," Emile says. Remy opens it, tearing into the pink wrapping paper, to find a pin. It's a phrase, carefully outlined in black and gold. 'A thousand more,' reads the pin, and Remy's heart squeezes almost painfully in his chest.

"Love you, starlight," Emile says, settling next to him and kissing the corner of his mouth.

"God, I love you, too," Remy breathes, soft and genuine, as he turns and presses a kiss to Emile's waiting mouth. "Wanna watch Steven Universe?" He blurts out. "Any of your favorite episodes, I don't care."

"Not the cat fingers one," Emile says immediately, with a little theatrical shudder. "Never that one."

"I'll burn it like I nearly did the house, babe," Remy promises, and Emile laughs.

"Sounds good to me," Emile says, and rests their head on Remy's shoulder.

[deus-lapidis]

Modern boyfriend hcs: Valentine’s day edition (writing trade)

Characters: Kaeya, Childe x fem!reader

Genre: fluff

A/N: this was my writing trade for @/rulaineyu 's birthday and Valentine’s day!!

This is a repost! Here's a short explanation why

Childe:

He goes all out for Valentine’s day and when it’s your birthday as well, how can he not go those great lengths to show you his love?

His malewife levels are quite high, so you can expect a home cooked breakfast in bed early in the morning. Maybe heart shaped pancakes with fruit and chocolate sauce? Or waffles with hand whipped cream? Maybe fried eggs with homemade condiments and fresh bread, if you were to prefer something hearty. Whatever you wish for he will grant you on your sweet day!

So he wiggles back into the blankets with you after peeling of his apron to share some nice breakfast in bed. He put so much effort into it trying to make small animals out of various foods and shaping hearts.

He’d totally feed you tbh

So when you finish up, he decided to let you relish in his warmth for about whole ten minutes before he ultimately just pulled you out of bed to “make the most out of your special day!”

Will absolutely pamper you, definitely forced you  beforehand to take a break for the whole day and just spend it with him.

He also bought you new clothes for today’s date, but it’s really up to you whether you’re gonna wear them or wear something of your preference!!

So he’ll go to a theme park with you and if you wanna go on rides, he’ll definitely accompany you(has a blast on big rollercoasters). Will buy fun snacks for you two to share and totally did not choke on a churro no no no—

He won you a cute plush and some plastic roses and peacocked so much that you eventually just stuffed the left over churro into his face <3

He will pout a little, but the longer you two hold eye contact the less serious you can stay, so you just end up bursting into a giggle fit, grinning goofily at each other.

Lastly you two got home again to rest up together and he’ll definitely indulge in some affections as soon as you hit the mattress. You can feel his chest rumbling when he pulled you on top of him to snuggle you to sleep.

Kaeya:

This man is poetic in a very strange way, he will absolutely go the sappy cliché romance route, but he’ll be ten thousand times more extra. When I tell you extra, I mean extra. Especially when it’s your birthday as well!!

So while you were sleeping, he’d stumbled out of bed to fetch you some fancy strawberry cake to greet you when you get up and he prepares the pretty bouquet he bought the previous day.

Banned you from trying to work for your social medias for the day and just wants you to celebrate yourself and the day of love. He knows you enjoy it all, but he really really wants you to have a break from writing, filming and wushu for the day.

Would also feed you (with a spork) while still not wearing a proper shirt mind you (yes i had to include that bc it’s very Kaeya), his nose scrunching up at how cute you look.

He kinda planned a fancy outing for the day, taking you to a beautiful botanical garden to take some nice pictures with beautiful flowers of his beautiful flower :)

He holds your hand the whole time, swinging them back and forth slightly while you two visit the different greenhouses.

You both just look like such a charismatic couple because you just absolutely look adorable and he looks like bitchy pretty boy with sunglasses of a toddler while also making it all look good.

Hands down would flirt with you through cheesy flower names(refuses to call them puns because he’s too sleek)

You two got a bee plush in the souvenir shop as well for it to live on your shared bed hehe

bUT ADDITIONALLY, he made you change once more, because he made reservations at some very high end, glamorous restaurant, ‘cause he just want to treat you to some really nice food and a lovely experience!!

So in the end you’re both too full to really do anything other than laze around at home in bed again. Cuddles becoming the primary activity for the rest of the night, lazy kisses exchanged while you joke about how good the food was and how snooty the people were.

[beybeys-world]

hey could you so some steve head cannons like general dating head cannons mid relationship

Hi Anon!! Congrats on being my very first request :)) sending virtual hugz your way!! Since a specific season wasnt listed, i'll be going off on season 3 and 4.

Warnings: Mentions of drunk steve, suggestive parts, mentions of pda, fluff, needy steve, gender neutral reader! (lemme know if i missed any!

*Masterlist*

Send me requests!! Be sure to read the request guidelines first!!<3

I just KNOW for a fact he would visit you during his work breaks. Whether its a lunch break or a "I'm gonna take 20! be right back Robin!" break (which happen quite often) which robin ALWAYS replied "YOU SAID THAT NOT EVEN AN HOUR AGO STEVE!!"

During breaks he would probably take you out to eat or bother you at your job (hes a little shit i swear). But.. if hes extra needy he'd like to take you to your jobs break rooms to "help" If yk what i mean.

Being close with Robin is an absolute MUST!! Both you and her ganging up on Steve is an average routine! You both bond very well!!

Free Icecream 4 LIFE!! Every flavor in the icecream parlor you had already tried atleast twice due to Steve insisting you try every flavor or make weird combinations. He doesnt mind since "Somebodys gotta eat the icecream!" he says.

When he was drugged by the russians and you found him, he was quite the sappy and giggly drunk. He would be very clingy and be "upset" if you ever seperated not even 1 inch away from him. In reality drunk Steve cant keep an angry face without breaking it into a smile then kissing you. You hear lots of "Y/NNN where are you goinggggg" or "hey hey hey, dont let go of meeee, babyyy" from the giggly boy.

After being hired at the new Family Video Store Steve often has movie nights with you. Like the icecreams you've probably seen all the movies in the store atleast once or twice no matter how cheesy. Due to slow retail he LOVES it when you visit him.

He likes sneaking into your window just to "hangout and chat" but often times he purposely falls asleep in your arms so he can spend the night.

Hes very particular about his hair and wont let anyone touch his hair but you. Well he doesnt LET you but complains about it. Deep down he loves it. "HEY HEY HEY WATCH THE HAIR BABE!!" Ruffling this boy's hair will get a reaction out of him but secretly hes asending to the heavens. Sometimes when cuddling he'll just place your hand on top of his head, signifying to ruffle it.

Always somewhat intertwined with you. Locking pinkies, holding hands, his hand in your pocket. He isnt absolutely huge on heavy PDA in public. Hugs and kisses are fine with him in public but he prefers the other stuff in private. wink wink

Despite the bickering with Dustin he always insists you sit upfront with him when hes driving. Holds hands with you when he drives.

Steve Harrington LOVES your laugh, and he LOVES making you laugh even more. Expect laughing until your ribs hurt with this precious gentlemen.

Dating Steve Harrington also comes with adopting his children too! Your very close with Dustin but even closer with max since she can relate to you the most. The kids have grown a liking to you!

Hope these were enjoyable for you Anon!! Thanks for requesting!! Please send requests if you have any or check out my masterlist! (both linked at the top of this post) Have a wonderful day/night!

-Ahzy

[honeymilkj]

ateez as boyfriends. ♡

song list: sunsetz- cigarettes after sex, robbers- the 1975, romantic lover- eyedress.

[a/n]: i know i have to finish other things, and i 100% will. i just personally needed some good ole fluff.

genre: fluff, disgusting fluff. requested by anon. <3

——————————-—-♡———————————

seonghwa

he’s very attentive, and of course extra caring when it comes to his partner with his “motherly” status.

not to the point where it’s straight up babying. sometimes. just very sappy.

examples such as: feeding you bites of his food, fixing your hair right, adoring cheek pinches.

he loves to spoil and be cheesy about it.

cheesy as in, you’ve made a personal bouquet of flowers because of how often he’ll give an individual.

they’re too pretty to just toss away.

he’ll cook you your favorite dishes and would literally do it everyday if he could, no exaggeration.

he balances his hefty schedule very well, it isn’t an easy thing to do but you can rely on him even if he’s in italy it seems like.

his favorite type of skinship is holding both your hands while you both converse, or nose kisses.

——————————-—-♡———————————

hongjoong

this guy will fucking PAMPER you.

you fall asleep without taking off your makeup? boom, serum applied and all.

your nails need a touch up? he will paint them for you.

will literally make your clothes. no joke.

he’ll design couple outfits for the both of you, while making you the coolest shirts and just everything you want.

absolutely loves taking pictures of you and your dates, every photo is treasured then.

if he has a pen in hand and is just off in space thinking of you, he’ll scribble pretty doodles while kicking his feet like a school girl with a crush.

the page will be of sloppy hearts and little things like a field of roses, just from your memory.

favorite type of skinship is when one of you lean on each other, if you’re not laying on his shoulder, he will lay on your’s.

with your arms locked together.

——————————-—-♡———————————

yunho

he is the cut out of a “golden retriever boyfriend”, wow who knew?

never a dull moment with this guy.

is an accidental romantic trope of a man.

if there’s music playing in any room of the dorm, he’ll immediately take your hand and twirl you in your two’s personal ballroom.

you can get away with anything.

you wanna do his makeup? he’s already in the chair.

if you leave him looking absolutely insane and he has tears in his eyes he’ll still give a thumbs up and a “love it, baby.”

he survives off any type of physical contact.

so it’s tough pin pointing a certain one is a favorite.

but he loveslovesloves to completely wrap his arms around you to lift you an inch above the group to dip you while he kisses your entire face and neck while you laugh your head off.

or having you just completely lay on him while he holds you. best bed.

——————————-—-♡———————————

yeosang

he’s like a best friend type of boyfriend.

with his own romantic moments of course.

his favorite times with you are spent at home, or places of significance.

tends to low key be playful or mischievous.

buying a small cake for your first month anniversary, and smearing the frosting on your cheek.

reeeeally enjoys pets.

if you hold his face and rub his cheeks, play with his hair, rub his back— he’s melted.

often gives words of affirmation and comfort for his love language.

type of man to hold you and rock back n’ forth in a dimly lit room.

overall, a very relaxed and easy going person to be with.

his favorite type of skinship is nuzzling into your neck during hugs, or when you kiss his birthmark. very sweet.

——————————-—-♡———————————

san

i see him being the biggest romantic out of the group.

he’s always admiring you. always.

twirling your hair around his finger, giving you all his attention while you’re speaking, having his arm around you while walking.

if you compliment him, he’ll literally scrunch his shoulders and giggle.

look at him adoringly, he’ll look down cause he knows his cheeks are pink.

will go all out on anniversaries or your accomplishments.

your!! hype!! man!!

if he sees you being critical of yourself it’ll go something like:

“euhh… this dress makes my body look—.”

“BEAUTIFUL!! you’re fucking gorgeous!”

he loves any type of skinship from you, but his go to is a good kiss on the lips. cupping your face, he wants you to feel him after you two break away.

——————————-—-♡———————————

mingi

mingi is such a dorky partner it’s cute.

he’s romantic in an almost innocent way, as in he’ll find a flower while you both are walking to hand to you.

whenever he goes on tour, he leaves you a shirt of his while you exchange your perfume or something he can hold.

lays his chin on your head from behind.

wholesome things like taking selfies of your shadows in romantic positions.

often tangles his fingers in your hair while massaging your scalp.

loves when you greet him with sweet names.

say “hello, handsome,” while you two hug and he will purr.

his favorite position for skinship is having you sit on his lap while you face him.

you can either hug, hold each other casually, and gives perfect access for kisses.

speaking of, kisses between words happen every single conversation.

it’s as normal for him as it is getting out of bed.

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wooyoung

this guy will make his person feel like the only one on earth.

it’s not a surprise, seeing how he treats his friends already.

gets so excited to see you, even if you come back from the grocery store.

even though the relationship is there, he will flirt as if he’s on a mission.

winks when you make eye contact.

is so extra, the type to dip you before a kiss.

would also break out into dance if a certain moment comes up with you, the bedroom will become a dance floor.

always holds onto you in anyway he can. literal hugs, intertwining your hands, he just needs the touch.

with skinship he goes for straight up kisses, doesn’t matter where.

just kiss him.

——————————-—-♡———————————

jongho

being the youngest, he’s likely the least experienced.

but he’s absolutely a good partner.

you literally see a different side of him.

he’s such an active boyfriend.

brushing your hair, occasionally styling you, helping you shop for clothes.

he’ll massage your back if you’re sore, carry you to bed when you pass out.

doesn’t quite know how to handle compliments and praise.

he’ll fidget and huff with a warm face.

if you have trouble sleeping, he becomes a personal music box full of lullabies.

if a member or someone in his family asks about you, get ready to sit for awhile.

man can go on forever.

his favorite type of skinship is probably obvious.

neck kisses!! giving and receiving.

[elliebean714]

Dwayne Hoover x G/N!Reader

Dwayne Comforting The Reader Headcanons

Comfort, Fluff

A/N~ This, once again, is pretty self insert, I'm really stressed and sad all the time and I've had another bad day and I need comfort from a fictional fella. So, if you'll indulge me...

And yes, you're in the Hoover household having a mental breakdown. Don't ask questions just go along with it~

I know for sure, this boy would be the sweetest ever.

Having a bad day?

He's right beside you, hugging you, holding you close, holding your hand or just sitting near you, for silent comfort.

He'll always be your shoulder to cry on

If you want to talk about it, he's going to listen the whole time, making you feel safe and secure.

Constantly going to get you water and snacks, trying to calm you down, that sweetheart <3

Writes all the reasons he loves you and shows them to you ❤ 💓 💕

If you don't want to talk about it he'll just sit with you as you let all out

However you need to he's happy to let you, just, maybe don't break his stuff

If you just need distractions he'll start asking (writing) about your hobbies, family, interests, anything he knows you love talking about.

Hes also distracting you by writing cool plane facts he knows

Playing your relationship mix tape to remind you of happier times.

Maybe tryna get you to dance with himmmmmmm 🥺

Like jumping around, waving your arms in the air

Or just cutely swaying in the centre of his room 🥺💖❤💕

Oh my looorrrddddd

Protect this boy at all costssssss❤ 💕 💞

Once you calm down, you both build a pillow fort on his bedroom floor, filled with your favourite snacks, drinks, music, movies, blankets and unlimited cuddles from the best boy ever.

Has all your comfort movies

Always happy to watch anything that would make you feel better

Even if its some sappy romance or an extra cheesy action

He'd do anything to make you feel better 🥺

Inside the fort he's very cuddly

Maybe it's the extra padding and comfort

Maybe it's his need to love and cherish you

Whatever it is he loves hugs in this state💖

I cannot promise that Olive wouldn't squeeze herself in between you two

Dwayne tryna snuggle with you only to find you and Olive cuddled up in the centre of your fort

Him being like 🥺💕💕

Cus pretty partner nice to baby sister?!?!

Hello? Love of my life?

His beloved angel 💖🥺💖

And wrap his arms around you bothhhhhhhh😭😭❤❤💕💖

Because you two are the only people he cares about 💖

And the three of you having a sweet night watching movies, dancing, singing snacking, joking, just the best, you know?💖💕❤😭🥺

I think he's secretly a mega softie but seeing you upset is going to really bring it out of him

Overall 10/10 boyf would recommend 👌

Hope your day was better than mine, if it wasn't, there's always tomorrow right?

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~Elliebean714

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[astrella-writes]

prompt | anonymous asked: Could I get some general relationship headcanons (with some fluff please!) for Chishiya, Arisu, and Kuina 🥺👉👈 let me know if you need a more specific ask! :)

warnings | written with the intention of female pronouns but can be read as gender neutral, very minor suggestive implications, mentions of alcohol, nicotine and eating habits, might be considered kinda cheesy oops, the use of the pet name ‘bunny’.

word count | 1.4K

author’s note | ‘m loving this request. this is written with the intention of it being pre-borderlands. 

Shuntarō Chishiya 

- Frequenting local cafes for routinely study dates. He helps you with topics that you may struggle on and you buy him the bizarre flavored ‘treat of the week’ as a thank you. He jokes around that you’re probably using him as a test subject, because who would order sweet potato brownies with the premise that they would taste good. Much to his surprise, they actually do.

- Visiting a cat cafe once, but not getting around to completing any work. The image of Chishiya cradling a fluffy kitten close to his chest and holding softened eye contact with it is now your permanent lock screen. He has a matching lock screen of you holding a kitten from under the armpits and touching noses with it.

- Learning new skills together. Chishiya is pretty much down for anything that he considers interesting enough. That’s how you ended up frustratingly trying to follow along to a complex origami cat tutorial at 2 in the morning as Chishiya worked quietly with his earbuds in, listening to a different tutorial. Only once he presented you with a perfect paper flower did you smile for the first time in the past hour, the frustration dissipating. That very flower has claimed its indefinite place on your bedside table, something that didn’t go unnoticed by him.

- Doing escape rooms together every so often. It baffles you to some degree how he figures things out so easily, but then again, you’ve known how smart your boyfriend was since the day you met so it shouldn’t really come as a surprise. You just can’t help but admire him, and voice these admirations out loud. Your compliments being the only ones which truly affect him.

- Despite how genius your boyfriend is, you remain concerned about the mental toll college might have on him. If he is stressed, he barely gives it away, but you’ve grown to read through his indifference and pick up when something is wrong - even if he’s attempting to hide it for your disburden. You allow him to de-stress in your arms, playing with the tips of his hair and speaking through what has got him so troubled.

- Late night dates that consist of trips to the corner store where you buy your favourite snacks and walk down to the beach together. It’s a relaxing way to wind down after a stressful week filled with work and college. If it’s not too cold that night, you substitute sitting on your usual bench for a stroll along the sand. If he finds a pretty seashell, Chishiya will give it to you wordlessly.

- He buys you a lot of small things that reminds him of you. A cute keychain he found by chance while buying groceries, splurging his money on a random claw machine because he spotted a plushie character from that show you really like, buying your favourite snacks to calm you down before a big exam that you’ve been studying really hard for. It’s the little things that show how much he really loves you.

Ryōhei Arisu

- Offering him a place to stay for a few days if he needs a break from his family, Arisu will pack up his gaming laptop along with him and you two will game with each other side by side. He anticipates the moment you rest your head on his shoulder and once you do, he rests his own head upon yours with a small: “you tired, bunny?”

- Being extremely supporting and non-judgemental on the topic of him getting a job. You search listings almost daily and send any promising ones through to him, leaving an encouraging message afterwards in hopes he gets the right intention. You care for him deeply and don’t want to see his father eventually kicking him out the house for being unemployed and making the situation ten times more difficult for him.

- Helping him get out more and introducing him to places he quickly grows to love. A quaint coffee shop with a grassy roof hidden deep within the cracks that he never would have found if it weren’t for you. It’s become your usual spot for dates, and Arisu enjoys the tranquility of it all.

- Going on trips to the game store together, even though Arisu usually just buys all his games online, and he’s pretty sure you do too. Regardless, it’s an excuse to meet up and hang out for a few hours after, something he’s found has become more enthralling than gaming. 

- Staying up on video call into the late hours of the night as you both battle it out on some mmorpg. You’re confused when you see his idle avatar and look over at your phone screen to find him staring at you in a trance. It catches you off guard at first, but seeing him snap back to reality upon getting caught and getting all flustered left you replaying the scene over in your head for days later.

- Dates to the arcade, because of course. You two definitely hog a specific game with a line of pouting children waiting impatiently to get their chance. Arisu only agrees to move on when you mention a new game you spotted earlier. There is no new game, you just feel bad for the kids. Once he’s caught on, you merely give his lips a quick peck and you’re instantly forgiven.

- Playing in one of those immersive game machines with the curtains on both sides, only for Arisu to stare at you dumbly, leaving you a flustered and confused mess. This usually leads to a one-sided lean in and a small make out, only for an innocent kid to pull back the curtain and run away mortified. Their screams are the highlight of your boyfriend’s day, and you swear he’s holding some mental record of how many kids he traumatize through doing this.

Hikari Kuina

- Working at the same clothing store and having Kuina intervene whenever you’re faced with a rude customer. She might not be all too friendly if they insulted you, and if getting fired is the cost of standing up for you, then so be it. You’d quit alongside her and find some place new to work.

- Helping tend to her sickly mother in hospital, whom you had made speechless upon your first visit. She was delightfully thrilled upon finally being introduced to her daughter’s significant other, Kuina sharing to you afterwards that she hadn’t seen her mother smiling so brightly in a long time. You always present her mother with gifts upon each visit, whether it be flowers or a small cake. She’s become like your own mother, and so you help pay towards hospital bills as well.

- Comforting Kuina if she ever gets upset about her past (especially her relationship with her father) or her mother’s current poor health. You make her feel so valid; it leaves her a sobbing mess in your arms as you comfort her with soothing strokes and affectionate mumbles. Once her wailing has calmed, you offer to make her favourite - hot chocolate topped with cream.

- Constant sleepovers, which include wearing face masks, ordering takeout, watching some sappy romance before switching it over to an action movie and sipping on some cheap beer. The buzz of the alcohol always makes you more daring as you suggest showering together, and you’re never turned down by your equally audacious girlfriend. 

- Helping her overcome her nicotine addiction and being the initial person to suggest chewing on a dummy cigarette whenever she felt the urge to smoke. Her mother couldn’t thank you enough for getting her into this, expressing her hidden fear of having to watch Kuina smoke herself into ill health or worse, a premature grave. 

- In return, she looks out for your own well-being: reaching out to hold your hand before you both cross the street, showing up with lunch the next day at work if she thinks you haven’t been eating as much lately, keeping headache pills in her bag ever since you complained about a migraine that one time, keeping an extra umbrella in the break room just in case it rains later that day and you’ll need one.

- It’s never a dull moment dating Kuina, always planning fun and exciting dates like getting drunk in a private karaoke room only for it to lead to sloppy make outs. The one time she was so insistent on riding the kiddies train at the amusement park, only for the both of you to fall off once you reached the sharp bend in the tracks. It left you both a giggling mess, but the pain afterwards definitely made the whole situation regrettable. 

[h2bakugou]

Hey, I saw requests were open and got realll excited I wondering if you could do a little angsty/fluffy scenario for Bakugou where it's his s/o's birthday and him and the class starts ignoring her but their actually trying to surprise her?

a/n: hiya!! awe this is super cute and soft, and i think it’s time to break out soft bakugou again, skfjdskf thank you for the request hun!!

summary: with your birthday coming up, you half expected bakugou to at least send you a text but when it seems like the entire class is constantly avoiding you, you can’t help but feel a little bummed out, that is until...

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, some angst

word count: 1.8k

;cut for length;

»»————-　★　————-««

»»————-　★　————-««

Waking up the day before your birthday was always a little nerve-wracking. You were a little anxious to see if anyone would notice. It wasn’t like you expected a big grand celebration, but you’d been stressing, even a little upset since you asked Bakugou if he would be free the day of, to which he declined.

You were almost certain he knew of your birthday, you know you've at least mentioned it a few times to him, and his mom, who has stated multiple times that she wants to have you over for cake or whatever you’d prefer the weekend of your birthday.

You were about ready to just go celebrate with Bakugou’s parents since they seemed to be the only ones who remembered, the text that had come through earlier in the morning furthering your proof of Mitsuki’s knowledge on your date of birth.

What stung a little more than the fact that Bakugou hadn’t even acknowledged the fact that your birthday was tomorrow, was the way he didn’t even think it was within the week, or even the month.

You wouldn’t have been nearly as upset if maybe he’d guessed the date wrong, but now things were just starting to make you feel upset.

It didn’t feel like something you should be so upset over. You felt a little selfish, wondering why something so small, such as acknowledgment of your birthday from your boyfriend, was bothering you so much.

Deep down, however, you were excited. For your birthday. And the warm feeling of birthday wishes, from anyone, especially your significant other, always felt ten times warm and fuzzier inside.

But you trudged on, went to class, and tried your best to keep a smile on your face. Even during lunch, Kaminari, who seemed to do nothing but run his mouth, was quiet.

Everyone was. It felt, strange.

And now, you were wondering if maybe it was something deeper. Had something changed during the week? Were you not caught up? Why did it feel like everyone at your lunch table despised you, Bakugou leading the group as he barely even looked at you when he was sitting right beside you.

But when the day was over, you didn’t even bother sitting in the commons until most everyone went to bed. You finished your homework early and sat in your dorm, trying to cheer yourself up. 

And as the clock passed midnight, you wished yourself a lousy happy birthday before tucking yourself into bed.

Nothing prepared you for what was to come when you woke up.

The ear-deafening alarm on your phone woke you up to nothing. A blank screen. One single notification about a software update on your phone. You hadn’t expected your parents to text you this early, they were probably still in bed.

Their messages came in around the time classes started.

But getting dressed and meeting up with Bakugou, you tried your best to hold your head up high.

“Hey ‘Suki.” You smiled, standing beside him as he slung his bag over his shoulder, getting ready to leave the dorms to head to school.

“Hey.” Was all he said. You nodded and sighed, staring at the ground.

“Today’s gonna be a fun day, don’t ‘cha think?” You tried to hint at the topic but nothing seemed to give.

“What, you think tests in algebra are fun?” It was like a slash to your heart.

“No, it’s my birthday.” You whispered, gathering your things and walking away, walking straight out the door to the school.

Bakugou’s heart stung. In truth, he’d arranged a whole party for you. Everyone was kind of shocked to hear the words ‘I need your help’ come from his tight lips.

He was flustered and trying not to kill Kaminari who was already making fun of him. But he’d arranged the whole thing, planning it out down to a t.

He’d asked for everyone, especially Kaminari not to say anything about it, and he didn’t think much of it. But now his heart hurt, watching you fight back tears as you felt like he’d forgotten, as if everyone had forgotten.

Bakugou wanted to chase you down, pull you into a kiss, and wish you happy birthday, but he didn’t. The surprise would be coming up soon enough.

Sato presented the cake he’d made the night before and everyone was shocked to see how beautiful it looked.

“Oh, she’s gonna love it!” Mina cheered, helping the class pull out some of the decorations.

They’d be tasked with putting up decorations during lunch and after classes let out when Bakugou would keep you in the library for at least another hour.

Bakugou would make it up to you in the end if you still felt upset. But he was counting on this being the best damn birthday surprise, especially since he thought of it.

You were the first one to class. Slumped in your seat, you noticed Present Mic walk in.

“Happy birthday! Would you like a super awesome birthday track played on my show tonight?” Mic was genuinely surprised to see you break down crying after saying something so happy.

“You’re the first person to tell me happy birthday today.” You wiped your eyes, embarrassed to be sappy in front of your teacher.

“Oh, well then an extra special happy birthday! If you’ve got a song you’d like to play, just stop on by the studio!” Mic smile before exiting. You couldn’t think of a song you’d want to broadcast to the entire school on Mic’s radio show but if something came to mind you might just have to stop by, he seemed like he could be pretty fun to party with, if maybe he weren’t your teacher.

The thought of spending your birthday moping alone with one of your teachers didn’t sound at all like the dream you’d had about today. 

No, you wanted to be hand-in-hand with your boyfriend talking a walk through a pretty park, or stargazing under the night sky, or spending time at some sort of amusement center with your class, having fun.

But as students piled into the classroom, not a single happy birthday left any of them.

Not even Bakugou who now knew.

Getting through class was about as fun as watching paint dry. But when it was done, everyone rushed out, leaving you confused.

“Where is everyone going?” You asked, stopped by Bakugou who’s hand landed over yours on the top of your desk.

“Hell if I know.” He stared down at you, books in hand.

“You don’t wanna go with them?” You looked away, pulling your hand out from under his.

“Don’t tell me you already forgot.” You mumbled. Bakugou tugged you along to the library, silent the entire way.

Sitting across from him, you didn’t even have a clue as to why you were here, but not even thirty minutes later you were being tugged right back to the dorms.

“What’s your problem?” You stop, about three minutes away from the dorm.

“Huh? The fuck are you talkin’ about?” Bakugou stopped, his hands slung in his pants pockets.

“It’s my birthday Katsuki. And I told you that earlier, and you couldn’t even remember for a couple of hours? Am I that forgettable to you?” You sniffled, staring at him as your eyes began to sting with tears.

“I was busy. Had to focus for all that work.”

“And you still avoid saying it! I just, I just wanted to hear it from you. Is it so selfish of me that I just want to hear my boyfriend tell me happy birthday?” You felt like digging a hole and crawling into it. 

With shut eyes, squeezed so tight so you couldn’t see anything, you felt a hand land in yours, fingers intertwining with yours.

A finger under your chin lifted your head up, tear-stained cheeks and all, and a warm pair of cinnamon-tasting lips landed on yours.

“I never forgot, dumbass. I just wanted today to be special.” Bakugou whispered against your lips. Suddenly his free hand landed over your eyes as he tugged you along, your hands now gripping at his arm.

“Hey! Wait, what’s going on?!” You shrieked, confused as you moved unconsciously.

“Just hush for five seconds.” Bakugou sighed, pulling you up to the dorms, shoving you inside.

Removing his hand, Bakugou landed his hand on your shoulder and your eyes opened.

Your once rapidly spinning world was now standing still.

“Happy birthday!!” Your peers cheered. Familiar faces of your classmates, friends from Class 1-B, the Big Three, Eri, even Mr. Aizawa, and All Might were standing there in cheesy party hats.

“Wait...” You sniffled harder, tears now pouring from your eyes.

"Ah, don’t cry, idiot!” Bakugou shook your shoulders from behind you.

“I thought you all forgot! How could I not cry?!” You wiped your eyes with both of your hands, trying not to laugh at yourself.

“You can thank your boyfriend for the party! We were all gonna get you gifts but Bakugou suggested a party!” Kaminari finally blurts out.

“You were all so quiet, because of this party? And it was all your idea?” You turned to Bakugou. He sighed and nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

You gave him a big hug and pressed a cute kiss to his cheek, earning a few ‘awes’ from some of your peers.

“Thank you. Thank you all.” You tried to stop crying, but it felt impossible. Bakugou just nodded, ushering you to go and give some people hugs.

The festivities lasted pretty much all evening, from opening gifts to eating the delicious cake Sato baked for you.

You had a fun time with everyone, and after thanking everyone for the time, you sought after Bakugou on your way back to your dorm with all of your things.

“I’m sorry. For earlier.” You apologized, feeling a bit embarrassed for seemingly going off on him.

“Don’t be. I’m sorry for acting like a dick. I just wanted to surprise you with the best fuckin’ party.” Bakugou’s intentions weren’t vile, and you couldn’t be mad at him. You shook your head and pulled him into your dorm as you set your things down.

“Can we watch a movie together, and cuddle? I think I could take that as an apology.” You smirk.

“I know you’re not mad. But if that’s what you want.” Bakugou gets into his usual position, under your covers, waiting for you to join him. You stood speechless.

“Wh- I went off on you! Of course I was mad- But- I-” You huff and crawl into your bed beside him.

“You’re not still upset is what I’m trying to say, dumbass. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings.” Bakugou kissed the top of your head. You snuggled into his side and smiled.

“You really planned that whole party just for me?” You looked up at him as he selected a movie to watch.

“I wouldn’t be the best fucking boyfriend if I didn’t.” He said smugly.

“All for you. And I would do it again.” Bakugou glanced down at you.

“Because you deserve it. I love you.” Bakugou mumbled his ‘I love you’ a little softer, but you heard.

“I love you too.” You lean over and peck his lips, smiling as you snuggle into him, ready to unwind after having so much fun.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[aquamoonchaii]

•• genre: fluff, angst

•• warning: mentions of alcohol

•• pairing: xiaojun x fem! reader

•• wc: 1.4k

•• collab: Resonance Beach by @amorajae

•• charlie's notes: enjoy this cheesy piece <3

•• summary: you two choose the worst time to argue and separate each other for a while so xiaojun is now a party pooper and he is a sappy drunk asshole. did he even understand what you said that night?

“He is the luckiest asshole in the whole resort.”

“Not as lucky as me, remember I won the tickets to get here in the first place.” YangYang brags and a couple of mocking “thank you sir” echo the room.

“But really, who the fuck brings this alcoholic to his room?” Hendery questions and the man in question scoffs, sitting up just to find all the idiots gathered around him.

"Are you really talking about me….around me?" SiCheng, without a word, grabs his face like searching for something then proceeds to grab his hands and puts them up as he is shirtless. "He is complete, no organs removed or bruises. This guy right here is indeed lucky." Xiaojun furrows his eyebrows as SiCheng gives him a slap on the back, stands up and leaves as everyone follows him talking about what they should have for breakfast but the only rational one stays.

Kun rolls his eyes at his hungover friend when handing him a glass of water with pills he got there. "You know this resort masters at wild parties and strong liquor so why are you drinking so much? The blackout thing and being lightheaded are not sexy nor a good combination."

"I'm a grown man, it's fine."

" I know, that's why no one follows you."

"Don't lie, I heard the bartender calling you."

"...maybe. But that's not the point, how do you even get here?" XiaoJun groans because it's too early for this and he is hungry, thinking how he wants to go home and be at peace. "Whatever, just don't die DeJun. Do you have any news?"

He lowers his head and shakes it, no one really mentions it as they promised to shut up about it hoping he shuts up and enjoy.

Xiaojun indeed has been quiet but drinks one beer and he is sobbing about Y/N once again. Goddamnit. It's been a week of him drowning in his tears and three days of him drowning in alcohol, his friend is really heartbroken and he secretly wonders if this type of codependency is actually good for him.

Kun bites his hand to not call you and ask what happened because XiaoJun won't talk about the whole stuff. You two were basically glued to each other since you started dating and it was a bit awkward but XiaoJun looked happier and you were really nice to everyone.

He wonders if his probably now single friend is going to be alright. For now, he just listens to him talk for a bit and forces him to swallow a lot of healthy snacks so his liver doesn't collapse.

……….

It's been two long days at the resort and everyone is having fun except XiaoJun. He has been basically brought here as another suitcase anyways, one night he has been slurring words about Y/N and how the guys would have to kill him to make him accept the invitation to the resort and the next day he woke up at lunch time with a huge hangover at a king sized bed... at the Resort.

Fuck them all.

Until Kun made some sense because well, they didn't do it to mess with him. Actually, yes but also because XiaoJun was one of the most excited when Yangyang played a stupid lottery and won tickets to a luxury resort for a week. He helped Kun to organize everything for the other chaotic asshats, it was gonna be an unforgettable summer vacation.

Yangyang and the guys approved Y/N so they invited her but no one asked anything, maybe it was because he arrived late at the dorms looking like garbage after meeting you. He remembers reaching them and opening his hand to show them both of your rings, how embarrassing but at least that stopped the questions.

After Kun leaves, he slurs a thank you because he knows he is making this trip a nightmare for him. But a question keeps running through his head, does he actually reach his own dorm by himself?

DeJun can't even stand on his feet when frick an he acts wild almost screaming what he feels because the alcohol softs his vocal chords and makes him rant about his feelings he prefers no to talk about sober.

He doesn't stand up but leans to the little table at his left to search for his wallet and grab a lot of cash, he'll search the person and tip him extra because it's probably one of the service people that looks the worst side of him.

Let's give us some time. It would be good for both of us, DeJun.

Honestly, fuck you.

How is this good?

It was a silly argument that turned into something big as stress and miscommunication clashed, you both hurt each other with harsh words and stormed out in opposite directions. The next day he met you to talk things out and you forgave each other but it had turned awfully when you returned the promise ring to him.

You are not coming back, he can feel it.

Honestly, he wants to run to you and do something for you to get him back. But what if you end things right away? You said something about giving him a week to enjoy himself as the most repetitive thing of him at the argument was you being everywhere and he couldn't breathe.

He sighs, how stupid of him.

Basically, DeJun is the clingy one so that didn't make sense. He was the one expecting for you to come and cuddle him as you bicker with Yangyang as he tried to roast him, you caressing his hair as he played the guitar and sing for you, the little kisses on his cheek when he felts sad, how you didn't leave his hand even when you were paying for the snacks. He loved it, he was the one to search for your hand so you can hold him a bit more.

If you are taking your revenge now, it's working and he wishes once again being at the dorm so the wondering and the waiting eats him alive.

You are not coming back but he is hoping you do somehow.

…….

"DeJun! Are you drunk?" He shakes his head as he arrives at the fun stuff to do, maybe doing something would make him stop thinking about you for a bit. Everyone pats their back as he probably looks like crap and make him go to beach and learn surf.

...it doesn't work but he feels less miserable at least.

No headaches are cool too as night arrives and they are invited to a party. SiCheng bet him 100 dollars he couldn't pass the night without a single shot and he raises an eyebrow.

"I'll be the one who takes you to the dorm, I won't clean anything tho."

"Deal."

The variety of cocktails makes everyone drunk as hell and XiaoJun actually has fun watching Kun dancing on the table as everyone cheers for him. Hendery breaks empty glasses as he tries to do a house of cards with them, he is the one in charge of apologies tonight. SiCheng literally passes out on his lap and he can't move.

Luckily, the staff helps him and takes each asshat to their room and he gets the chance to ask who is the person who takes him to his own room.

"No staff was needed, sir. A lady came the first night and handed me her number so I could call her when you were passed out."

"Uh, what?"

"We allowed it as he addressed herself as your girlfriend. The friend who slept over you confirmed to us she made you arrive safely."

WHAT.

"Can you call her please?"

And there you are coming hurriedly from another side of the resort, waving at the bartender. "Where is he?"

He lifts his hand and nervously waves, you approach him awkwardly and waved too. "So you caught me."

"Why didn't you tell me you were here?"

"Well, you weren't in conditions for it."

"And what's the best condition?" He doesn't know how to feel, but being embarrassed is the first thing that gets the best of him as you saw it all.

"Maybe sober?" You shrugged your shoulders and sat down in front of him, his cheeks heated because he remembers talking to someone about how sorry he feels for the woman he loves. "You really don't know how to listen to me, huh?" He looks at you utterly confused but his heart flutters when you extend your hand to him. DeJun carefully grabs yours and lets out a shaky sigh like he has been holding his breath since you left.

"Y/N…"

"There's no need to explain further, I heard it all with hiccups and everything." You chuckle and caress his hand. "It was too extreme for me to return the ring, I'm so sorry for that. But I really thought a week alone would make us think if this relationship was going well and… I felt awful. I literally made you cookies twice and kept forgetting we were on a break. I am not sure how to ask this but, how did your week go?"

"I literally can't see because of how swollen my eyes are. Never do this again please I'm so annoyed I'm going to cry again."

"I won't I promise, I also can't see." You laugh and he looks at you, your sweet eyes lighten up as he stands up and kisses them both over the table as he mutters apologies again.

"Can you keep it as a secret what I did hen drunk?"

"You screamed my name but I loved it." XiaoJun groans and covers his ears as you laugh, he searches his pocket and give shou the ring.

He is never going to drink again but he makes you write on a napkin a promise to wear the ring everywhere.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

Scars That Heal || Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader Series

• Ch. 11: Under Pressure •

TRIGGER WARNINGS: blatant homophobia from Nicklesmart The Beatboxing Jester™️ in disguise as someone you know, internalized homophobia throughout the whole chapter. As usual, will put a skip marker for the heavier scene before and after if you need/want to skip. It is not light, ngl 😔 [trigger words: f*iry + the f slur, each used on exactly one occasion, and (as an insult) queer. I'm so sorry, this was not easy for me either and please do not read this if any of this in any way bothers you, i won't be mad if you skip the chapter 💕]

A/N: Next chapter will be all fluff I promise 🥲, I'm so sorry, but I needed something that could solidify Richie and Y/n's friendship for good, and her helping him through his worst fear is the best way to do that and will be explored in other ways throughout the rest of the series, specifically in the sequel. all that aside, I missed you guys and this series so much!!

LGBTQ+ RESOURCES AND SELF HELP LINKS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE CHAPTER

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

- 𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧 -

    Richie keeps his eyes trained on the dried mud on his navy blue slip-ons as he makes his way across town, his mind buzzing twice as fast as it normally did. He felt as if his entire body had been put through a blender; his skull still vibrating in his head turning his brain into jelly. His stomach empty and lurching as it twisted into knots far more impossible than what you'd see from a circus performer and his heartbeat could rival a hummingbird's. Not to mention he was walking with two extra legs he'd grow from time to time, another freaky affect the physical and mental toll these past few weeks had put on him and his eyesight. The caffeine he had been living on hadn't helped him one bit either he reckoned.

    Insomnia had become his best friend in the past few weeks, hence this last-minute trip to the old gravel pit just behind Derry Town dump. At least, this was the lie he told himself to pluck up enough courage to call Y/n up. Richie hoped she could talk him through it, give him some advice. He was never this nervous to talk to her and deep down in a corner he wished to bury forever - that small part of himself that begged to be free - knew exactly why. This small, repressed Richie Tozier that lived locked away in the center of his heart was calling the shots that day. Hell, he probably had been his whole life but he wasn't ready to admit that to himself yet, let alone his true attentions of seeking her help.

    All he knew is he was nervous as all hell, his palms were sweating, he couldn't stop fiddling with his glasses and he was sure one wrong move and he'd shit his pants. For fucks sake, he needed to shake this! He had already freaked Y/n out, that he knew. He could still hear her voice over the receiver. It was soaked in static and every 's', or 'c' sound she made felt like a pencil was being shoved into his eardrums cause of her shitty outdated telephone.

    "You," she had asked with a pause. "want to meet at... the dump?"

    "Yeah," he scoffed, scratching the same spot behind his ear for what had to be the billionth time out of nervous habit. "you got wax in your ears, L/n?"

    "Nope. Just, a little confused is all. You seem kinda... I don't know, squirrely," she said wearily, and through a sharp crackling hiss from the receiver he can make out a nervous chuckle on her end. "You sure nothin' jumped up your ass or anything?"

    He bit his lip. Hard. As if punishing himself for drawing her suspicions this early. What if she somehow caught on to what he was gonna talk to her about? Her walk to the gravel pit would surely give her enough time to get to that conclusion, and Richie wasn't daft. He knew he wasn't exactly subtle about... "insomnia". What with how many times he teased insomnia, called it that special nickname he knew it hated but secretly loved. That forbidden flutter in his chest when insomnia would laugh at his jokes, and the small but precious moments they shared from time to time when the others were late that would stay in his heart and mind for weeks to come. But it didn't matter now, as everyone knew; insomnia kept Y/n's company now.

    Thankfully his mouth was faster than his brain, and it fired a rapid response before a lull could form.

    "You bet your fur," he fires, his lanky arm had rested awkwardly against the wall beside the wall mount. "I am right as rain, toots."

    He of course hadn't seen it, but she had frowned at her phone. Her concern was growing with every word spoken from him.

    "Yeah," she snorts, throwing back a sarcastic remark. "Cause you sound it."

    She had eased a bit, growing soft and falling back into their usual banter. Their special dynamic always seemed to coax down his guard a bit.

    "You're talking like a 1950's gangster in a speakeasy," She straightened a little and had begun pacing as much as the phone cord would allow her. "Ya know... More than usual."

    Y/n smiled when she could practically hear the smirk taking over his face, and she certainly had no trouble picturing his hunched shoulders and intimidating snarl he was most likely dawning.

    "It's a little somethin' called moxie, kid," he spoke with curled his words, imitating all the gangsters he had seen in those cheesy old films. "somethin' you just don't have,"

    Y/n had rolled her eyes again, at least Richie could see her doing so when he heard her respond. "Right, right. My bad Baby Face."

    "Hey!" He barked, snapping his fingers and pointing at the floor as if she could see him. His voice lowered in a thick Chicago accent. "That's mista Baby Face to ya."

    "Mista Baby Face Nelson!" She strained, her annoyed shout tainted with a laugh. "Are we meeting at five or not?"

    Richie released a quick and silent breath, expelling as many nerves as possible.

    "You bet your fur."

    The exchange kept playing over and over in his mind and Richie wondered if the same rang true for Y/n. He hoped not, cause that would mean she was thinking about it too much. Hell, he was thinking about it too much now. A heavy sigh rolls off of his chest as every anxiety collectively manifests into its own dark thought.

    Fuck, he really had it bad.

    How pathetic he was.

    Eddie would surely be horrified to know what Richie really thought of him, that was for sure.

    And as if he hadn't felt crazy enough, the thoughts actually began to feel like voices calling him from the darkest shadows of his mind.

    'And the other Losers? You'll be lucky if they even look at you again.'

    Richie was surprised to find himself fighting back, pushing back as much as he could. Despite all the jokes and jabs, he couldn't be completely alone. A small part whispered in his heart that he wasn't, and he thought briefly of the turtle strangely enough but it was gone just as soon as it had come. All he knew was that whatever was telling him this thing was stubborn. But so was Richie Tozier.

    He treated it as an intrusive thought. Made a decision then and there that it was, never occurring to him what it could be if wasn't.

    No way. Not those assholes, he tells the voice. These are the Losers for fucks sake!

    The more he thought about it the more he was sure of it. God forbid Eddie did find out, which Richie had no intention of, and what would happen was in fact unclear. But no matter how he looked at it, he just couldn't picture the little spaghetti man ever cutting him out of his life completely. Not by choice at least.

    Now Ben, that lovable sappy haystack of his that was too passionate for his own good. Richie may not be the silent type but he does pick up on things, and Hanscom's affections for Beverly Marsh were far from subtle. Always opening doors for her and turning redder than a tomato when she smiled at him. Not to mention Richie was about ninety percent sure there was a poem of some sort involved. And that was just Beverly, Ben was always thinking of the Losers. Now Richie knew for sure that boy had no hateful bone in his body to the point it was fucking annoying.

    Mike, Richie felt, might be a little similar. The kid had a lot of heart, always going on about the animals on his farm. Would even go as far to say he considered them his friends, what with how much Richie knew about Mooriuel the calf and he hadn't even met her for cripes sake! Richie imagined he'd be a bit more shocked but would try some sappy speech when he came around. Would make a whole big thing of it, pat him on the back, and even invite a conversation. He scoffed at the thought, the image of Mike slapping him on the back and his signature grin... Yeah, he appreciated the hypothetical gesture but it wasn't Richie's style.

    He could easily see Big Bill sputtering up a storm, but managing a smile. He'd probably even manage to forget their differences long enough to say something stupid but supportive. And Beverly and Stan were the ones he worried about the least. Stan would probably be too indifferent to care, throw him some snarky ass comment like, "took ya long enough, dipshit," and Beverly? Well, Beverly had always been cool, very laid back. She never took shit, and she never dished it out if she didn't think it was deserved which Richie admired greatly. This was one of many reasons he was so shocked she had taken Bill's side in the fight.

    The thought brings him back down again, and as soon as the memory touches him so do the nerves in his jaw tensing up again where he had been hit. He could feel the punch all over again. And he suddenly remembers why he is here.

    He is here, he realized.

    Just around the bend, coming into view was the gravel pit. Old and crumbling it was, and overrun with weeds and bushes. One could easily scale in and out of it, and at the very bottom Rich had discovered one day was a beaten and tattered leather seat from a car that found its way from the junkyard just a ways over. This was where he told Y/n to meet him.

    Y/n...

    Jesus fuck, what would Y/n say? How would he tell her? Would she still wanna be friends with him? Would she laugh and crack a joke, not taking it seriously? Would she hate him for it? More importantly, why in the ever-loving fuck was he here and willing to tell her?

    His gangly legs tumble into a sprint as he picks up momentum descending the uneven terrain. The rubber soles of his shoes kicking up the layers of dirt and shaved gravel that lay beneath the rocks and he had to put effort into not crashing as he comes to a stop. He manages to avoid a nasty fall, completely ignorant to the fact that his right foot had been only inches away from a root peeking out from the rocks surely would have broken his neck had he made even one wrong move. He puffs out his chest, dusting himself off, and once again tries to dispel the nausea broiling in his stomach like hot tar.

    He closes his eyes tiredly as he drags his feet to the leather bench, letting his backside fall through the air and into the somewhat plush cushion with a deep groan. "Fuck."

    His fingers rub his tired eyes, his fingertips finding bits of crust he hadn't gotten earlier and his knuckles brush his glasses further up onto his forehead. Not quite knowing what to do with the overwhelming thoughts and emotions clouding him, his fingers dig further into his eye sockets until all he can see are inky splotches behind his eyes.

    Richie doesn't know why he would ever think those things of Y/n. He hadn't ever told her this, not directly at least, but she was just about the only person in the world he trusted most. He knew in his heart of hearts this was why he found himself dialing her number before he could even register what he was doing. Even after their separation and the bitter feelings they took with it, the Losers were and always would be his best friends in the world.

    So why did everything about this feel so wrong?

    From the moment the phone call ended, he felt like he was waltzing into a trap like some putz...

    "Well, look who it is..." snarled a voice from up above the surface.

    Richie's blood ran cold and it felt as if the remainder of the air in his lungs had been squeezed out like air in a deflating balloon. He whipped around at the voice, his head twisting up at the silhouetted figure so fast he was shocked he hadn't broken his own neck. The figure held their hands on their hips, thousands of the sun's rays spilling around them as they blocked out a part of the sun, an advantage they reaped from where they stood before Richie at just the right angle. His breath caught in his throat as he had recognized the voice immediately, but the figure didn't quite match the voice.

    The last thing person he needed to see right now was Henry fucking Bowers, that was for sure.

    The universe agreed so it would seem. The figure shifted, just out of the light revealing the teasing smirk of his best friend Y/n. Her hands snapped together, her palms forming a handgun, the barrel aiming right at Richie's forehead.

    "The jig is up," she snarled. "We knows it was you. You was the ones to steal from Big Bill's dame, and I wouldn't be surprised if yous was in cahoots, neithers."

    Despite the fear that had clutched his heart only seconds ago, a small chortle left Richie at how awful her accent was. Hadn't she learned anything from him? A smug smile overtook Y/n's face as he broke. She holstered her handguns and gracefully descended the pile of gravel. His smile expired not long after, and despite the thin veil of clouds creeping over the sun the light in the sky was much too hard to even glance at his friend without blinking back several painful searing tears from the harsh light. But he could still make her out.

    She was dressed in her usual ratty and eclectic garb; a mix of something far too big for her frame and something that seemed far too tight to be comfortable. Richie was certain she had never once owned even a thread of clothing that had always been hers. Her s/c brow had its usual, light glossy sheen of grease that Richie had learned very early on to not ask about. But there was something about her now, something he couldn't quite place.

    Though one question kept popping up in his mind. One that left an itch in his brain he couldn't quite scratch in his dazed state. And that was how could he have possibly thought she sounded like Henry Bowers?

    He finds himself looking down at the gravel now, wiping away as much of the sun's damage pooling in his eyes as he can. Unbeknownst to him, she watches him studiously, the ghost of her smile still on her lips as if she was enjoying his discomfort. His long and gangly limbs are folded awkwardly, still, onto the leather seat that sits on the ground. Finally, she takes a seat beside him with a huff as he had.

    As he rubs his tired eyes for a second time she takes a long look around, breaking the silence when her trip around the gravel pit lands on him.

    "Well, you've looked better." She quips, offering a smile.

    Richie snorts, pushing his slipping glasses up the bridge of his nose with a friendly smirk. "This comin' from Raggedy Ann?"

    They both breathe a small laugh and for a moment - just one beautiful, fleeting moment - Richie forgets he was ever scared. This is what he needed.

    "So," she says, pulling his gaze towards her, sending him a cocky smile as a knowing look sparkles behind her eyes. "I'm guessing there's a reason I'm here, and not helping you with your summer training?"

    Richie, for reasons unknown to him, feels his muscles tense up again involuntarily. Like a puppeteer suddenly yanking the strings, ripping his shoulders up to his ears and his muscles bracing. He felt rigid and he was, but he was doing all he could not to show it. All his unease came back in steady waves marching up the sand, but what could he do now? He could already feel her eyes burning holes into the side of his head as he kicked around a sizeable rock with the toe of his shoe, studying him. Waiting.

    Finally, his shoulders slumped in a shrug, lower lip in an indifferent pout as he looked around at the sky hanging above the gravel pit.

    "Just needed a change from all those ugly mugs, I guess," he manages a laugh, and he rises to his feet to lazily chase the rock that had rolled out of his reach.

    He can feel her eyes on him still, and he doesn't know what to make of it until finally she breaks her silence with a chuckle and rises to join him. She catches the rock with the heel of her dirtied sneakers. They're worn down to the very last thread and several shades off from the original color. She kicks the rock back to him, and they engage in a lazy game of rock soccer.

    "I can understand that," she says calmly, eyes trained on the rock as it tumbles across the gravel with several chunky clanks. "Reckon it'll be good for you, too,"

    He frowns confused without looking up at her, winding one lanky leg back before one big kick. "Whad'ya mean?"

    "Well, you don't wanna spend your whole summer inside of an arcade, do you?"

    Richie's face freezes in a frown, the rest of his body going rigid. His eyes cement on the rock underneath his shoe, willing away the veil of tears that threatened to fall. Had he not been so caught up on why he was here, Richie might have had a clear enough head to realize Y/n wasn't there for that conversation, nor had she heard about it from anyone there. Instead, all Rich can think about is the small hypochondriac boy that had stolen his heart.

    He can hear the conversation he had with his best friend, all those weeks ago when school let out. And if felt like a lifetime since he had seen that squishable, pouty little disgusted frown Eddie always put on that made Richie's inside melt. As if reading his mind, Y/n spoke.

    "This is about Eddie, isn't it?"

    Her tone is gentle but veiled. Something was concealed about the way she held herself, ever since she had arrived, something that Richie couldn't quite place. And there it was. He was right about her suspecting him, he must be. Richie battles the lump forming in his throat, and he can feel his ears turning pink under her unwavering and unblinking stare.

    Richie does all he can to fight a snarky response, not knowing how else to navigate and survive the intensity of his feelings. All he manages to do is nod.

[■■■■■■■■■■■■]

    "Rich, it's okay," she says, taking a step forward, his gaze is pulled to her eyes. And here it is, he thinks. The moment he had been dreading, the moment he hadn't even allowed himself to think about. "...I miss him, too."

    His face caught in another frown. That's definitely not what he expected her to say. Quickly as he could, he wiped away a spot of snot at his nose. He had managed to keep the tears at bay but now they had found another way out. He felt like a fucking fool, and he wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Of course she didn't know what he was talking about. Why would she - how would she? His spirits were crushed, and he suddenly didn't feel like getting into it now. She seemed off today, not that Richie cared. All he wanted was for this whole day to be over with, not even knowing the worst had yet to come.

    She studies his reaction, almost as if she had been waiting for this and she blinks for what Richie is now starting to realize must be the first time since she got here. Y/n's face screws into a frown, and yet there still lingered an uneasy smile that taunted him. Her eyes squint suspiciously at Richie, her head tilting in an expression he never knew he had always feared would come.

    She laughs finally, a shrill and grating laugh he hadn't quite heard before and she nudges him playfully. "Oh, come on! It's not like you've got some faggy crush on him or something?"

    When he doesn't answer, she scoffs, turning away and shaking her head in disbelief for a moment.

    Richie felt he just might vomit. Or cry. Or both. He had never felt so distraught, so dejected. So broken.

    How could she be saying these things?

    He tries with all his might to conjure a response, any fucking thing at all so he wasn't some blubbering broken chump breaking down in front of her. But for the first time in his life, Richie "loudmouth" Tozier was speechless.

    That fuck-awful grating laugh returns, a sour look screws up her face as she looks him up and down in disgust.

    "Wait, seriously?" She gapes with a scoff, making him feel about two inches tall. "You actually think he'd want to be with some fairy freak like you?"

    "F-f-uck off," he sputters, though he does not feel better.

    The trembling in his voice, the vulnerability, hearing it in himself strips any remaining scrap of confidence he had left. He's crying now and there's no hiding it. And she heard it in his voice, he knew that now as he looks at her. Her lips curl into a malicious smile and she takes another step closer, Richie fumbles a step back.

    "He isn't some," her nose crinkles as she continues to advance on him, the fire in her eyes building as he stumbles back to escape her sudden venom. "rotten queer like you."

    Y/n spits the words out like they were poison on her tongue, and this was true in every way. Her fiery stare never left Richie, it burned holes right through him as she advanced on him like a wolf on a wounded doe. They were nearing the edge of the gravel pit, and Richie had nearly run out of room when her finger stabbed his chest like a sword's final strike to the heart, pushing him to the ground as she spoke those poisonous words.

    Richie felt his backside meet several jagged rocks that brought even more tears to his eyes, though none of them hurt as much as her words. She towered over him now, the sun beating down on her back and pouring over her shoulders, trapping Richie in her shadow. She shakes her head, and he can still make out the pathetic look on her face as she glowers at him.

    "It's girls he likes. It's me he likes." she points to herself, shaking her head. "He was mine the second he saw me, but you?"

    She scoffs again, and her shadow releases him as she kneels to balance on her feet, legs folded before him with a snide look.

    "You've always been the insufferable loudmouth he couldn't get rid of." A sharp laugh escapes her, the clutch on his heart tightening to dangerous amounts he fears it will give out. "Well, I guess he doesn't have to worry about that now, huh?"

    His heart feels as if it has been ripped to shreds, the claws of the wolf had struck and now he was drowning in his own sorrows as pain as the heartbreak filled his lungs. Richie could no longer see behind the thick wall of glassy tears that blanketed his eyes, and the sounds of his own sobs amplified his embarrassment and despair. He was hopelessly broken, and he could feel himself crumble, each piece disappearing amongst the gravel underneath him until he couldn't be found. He blinked only once, but it was enough to send every tear racing down his cheek at once.

    Another malicious smile contorts her face, her e/c eyes burning darker until they looked almost a completely different shade. Her lips seemed to stretch on and on and on in a way only one thing could. And it was then that it occurred to him.

    Not one thing she had said to him is something he could have ever prepared himself for, each word constricting his heart and lungs and swelling his throat with the ever-growing lump.

    Nor was any of it something she would ever dream of saying, he knew this now.

[■■■■■■■■■■■■]

    This wasn't Y/n, this was never Y/n. She had never showed, and if he hadn't been so wrapped up in his own fucking head he would have caught on from the second "Y/n" arrived. Especially that entrance, Y/n surely would have fallen on her ass on her way down into the gravel pit never mind the fact her accent wouldn't be nearly as shit.

    But none of this mattered now. This thing that looked like his friend had him cornered, and It knew it.

    A wicked grin overtook the mask of Y/n's face that chilled Richie to his bones, and yet it also reassured him. Y/n was tough and could be scary from time to time, but he knew she could never be capable of the pure evil that now danced in It's eyes. Richie's body was already in motion, his arms and legs scrambling for any sort of grip that could take him up the side of the pit and to safety. But the gravel beneath him was always shifting, rolling out from underneath him when it wasn't raking his palms to pieces and all he was accomplishing was a small plume of dust that clung to his backside.

    Richie didn't know where it came from, but his actions were faster than his feelings as his fist collided with It's nose. And no sooner did the heel of his shoe collide in a painful crack that sent It's head back, did his eyes widen in horrific shock. The painful crack that would surely haunt him for many nights to come, had not been from the collision of his heel on It's nose but It's head - or Y/n's as this was still It's disguise - had snapped completely back and dangled completely off It's/her shoulders.

    The only thing connecting her head to her shoulders was the suit of s/c skin. Protruding from the center of her neck just under the skin was the end of her spine where it had disconnected, giving away a disturbing lack of muscles and veins in her neck as if it had been hollowed out like a pumpkin. Her head rolled back and forth limply, and Richie could feel bile climbing up his throat, ready to burst out his digested mac and cheese.

    His mind was screaming at his legs to run while all was still but a small part of him knew this was all a gambit, that it didn't matter if she was frozen stiff or not. Richie knew as soon as he booked it, It would spring to life with something even more twisted. That now, without his friends, he was as good as dead.

    And It was more than happy to prove Richie right.

    The clone of his friend sprang to life, It's head still rolling around on It's shoulders. Connected only by the skin of It's neck, and moving around like some fucked up slinky toy. Richie was already halfway up the gravel pit, bits of rock and dirt finding their way into his shoes as he kicked up the earth though that was the farthest thing from his mind.

    By the time Richie reached the top of the pit, he could no longer hear the thunderous boom of his heart attempting to break loose from his chest, which was saying an awful lot. His screams echoed out into the air only to be swallowed by the screams of other children and Richie didn't know how he knew this but he knew those were the screams of Betty Ripsom, Ed Corcoran... Georgie Denbrough. The bloodied screams of It's victims were drowning Richie as he ran for the junkyard, and he wondered if he might live to hear them stop.

    The screams were so fucking loud in his ears he could see them. Each of them a blinding, deafening, gut-wrenching, and blood-curdling scream that danced through the air like ribbons as they begged for their lives. Richie cried out and he couldn't even hear his own voice, but he didn't let this stop his legs from pumping as hard as they possibly could. He was nearly to the junkyard, surely he could use something to fend It off but he knew he was just buying time.

    He could taste the blood on his tongue from where his teeth bit into his cheek. In all his short life, Richie Tozier would not have guessed child-eating clown to be the way he'd kick the can. When ever the thought of death began troubling him, he always liked to picture something like a western. Him and his rightful enemy squaring off against good and evil, he'd shoot first and save the day but still sustain an injury and bleed out. But it'd be a hero's death. And that was something.

   But this... this was something born out of darker than evil and Richie was about to be pulled into the gravity well of this black hole and swallowed up. And he knew in his soul, the very pits of his stomach it would reach out with its shadowy arms and pull him into darkness.

    And it did.

    Richie had been rapidly approaching the edge of the junkyard without realizing and within an instant found himself on the ground, caved in on himself as he tumbled in the dirt and rocks accepting he was to join them soon enough. He closed his eyes and waited for death as a hand curled around his shoulder and pulled him around. Another jolt of shock shot through his entire body at the sudden contact, locking his jaw and paralyzing his entire body in fear as he was met with the new threat. He didn't dare open his eyes, and certainly not when he heard his best friend's voice again.

    "Richie! Richie?"

    It was her again, he realized. Y/n's real voice, the one that he heard on the telephone that was dripped in static. The one now dripped in fear.

   "Richie?!"

    When the boy opened his eyes, they were filled with terror and his sobs continued. A lense Y/n never thought she'd see Richie look at her through. Her heart broke in an instant when she realized he was afraid... of her. Instantly, she released him and let her backside fall back into the gravel. She watched through a thick wall of tears as he trembled, crying to himself, and never in all her life had she seen Richie Tozier so broken.

    It tore her apart.

    She didn't have to be a genius to realize what had happened here. Before she had even reached the junkyard on her bike she had heard his screams strangled through the wall of trees gating the area. When she had reached the gravel yard, she was happy to see him still in one piece but he was running for his life from an invisible force. The damn coward had gotten what It wanted and scared him shitless, but why would he disappear just because she showed? She had wondered.

    Now she was beginning to understand. It didn't need to be here to scare her. Just the sight of Richie in such a state was enough to tear her down and it took just about everything in her not to scream into the sky from a mix of fury and fear.

    Besides the tears that race down her cheeks and wet her legs, all Y/n could feel was a painfully numbing fear. Fear that Richie would never be the same. Fear that Richie would never speak to her again. Fear that Richie would never trust her again. Fear for whatever the fucking hell that thing did to Richie. Fear that It would do it again.

    All she felt now was fear for Richie.

    Y/n doesn't bother to fight the sob that breaks loose, her bottom lip quivers violently and her arms fall to the gravely pavement beneath her. As if her head had filled with lead, it grew heavy enough to fall into her chest where her chin landed, shaking several more tears loose.

    "I'm s-so sorry, Richie,"

    Y/n yearns to say more, but her body is physically weak from sadness and shame. Yet still, she repeats it in her mind hoping with everything in her it slips out of her mouth, or maybe if she thought them loud enough he'd hear them in his mind.

    I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry for whatever happened. I'm so goddamn sorry...

    "I'm sorry," she whimpers. "I promise..."

    I promise I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise I'm not gonna hate you. I promise I'm gonna be there for you, from now on. I promise.

    Her sniffles blend with his own, and Richie is unsure why this is the moment he knows for sure this is the real Y/n before him; maybe he was just too exhausted to think it through, perhaps it was the godawful sound she was making trying to keep herself from snotting as bad as he was but he knew It had gone. And the Y/n sitting beside him — crying with him, was the one he dialed up today. This was the Y/n he had been prepared to bare his soul to. His true self.

    So with one shaky hand — the other still tucked in close to his chest — Richie's left hand slid out from under him and across the gravel to Y/n's open palm. Her fingers were digging into the gravel, sharp edges of the rock digging into her skin as if to assure herself she was really real. Suddenly, she felt Richie's shaky palm slide underneath hers, carefully taking it.

    Y/n picked her glassy stare up from the ground to look at their intertwined hands, and she melted a little. Several of those fears — not all of them, but some — were ebbed away and she looked to Richie. He was still curled up in the dirt, his eyes closed and silent tears streaking his dirt-covered face. Each tear paved a path of clean skin, washing the dirt away in wild streaks where ever each tear had fallen. Several large and swollen beads of tears collected at his chin where they dangled, threatening to fall.

    She gave his hand a squeeze, letting him know she was there for him as she had promised him. And she was ready to sit with him for as long as he needed.

    For hours that feel only like minutes, they sit together in tear-filled silence, clinging to one another's presence and the knowledge that they are now all they have left.

    And there was no way they were letting go.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Here are some LGBTQ+ resources for mental health and self help if you feel you need them:

How do I find LGBTQ friendly therapy?

An article on safe ways to find the best sources of help that are right for you

The Trevor Project

Self Care Tips for Trans and Non Binary Folks

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[unsettlingconclusions]

Conversation over pizza

Pairing: Ayna Seth x F!MC (Kennedy) Genre: Fluff Rating: T Word Count: 3k+ Notes: I got inspired by @samanthadalton and @iamsimpforpoppy talking about pizza and food one day. I know this might not be a pairing of your particular interest, but I tagged you to show my appreciation for the inspiration (if you’d like me to remove it, please just let me know!). Story is not reviewed because if I stop to review I’d never post anything. Enjoy.

“So, I decided what we can do as your introduction to fine cuisine. Pizza!”

The sound of Ayna’s excitement came all the way from the kitchen to find Kennedy comfortably nestled against the cushions in Ayna’s couch. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and for once Ayna wasn’t swamped in deadlines or planning for classes, so they had been spending the past few hours curled up cuddling and watching cheesy romcoms. It was the perfect setting for peace and relaxation, and Kennedy would have voted to glue herself to the couch and to her girlfriend had it not been for the sound of grumbling stomachs. They were only human, afterall, and humans do need to eat.

“Pizza? Ayna, thank you for believing in me, but there’s no way I can get making pizza from scratch right.” Kennedy moved to the kitchen counter, voice a little less enthusiastic than her girlfriend’s.

But Ayna wasn’t to be deterred. “This one you can,” she replied, showcasing a package of frosted premade pizza dough. “Making it from scratch can be a challenge, I’ll admit. That’s why we’re gonna skip the make your own dough step.”

“But then it won’t be ‘fine cuisine’. It will just be like making a sandwich.”

“Ok, one, don’t talk like you even make sandwiches. And two, try to have some faith in me. Let’s make our own fresh tomato sauce. It makes a world of difference.”

It was a few weeks back when Ayna promised to teach Kennedy how to cook, starting with something easy, of course. This deal was brought by after a nice surprise romantic dinner Ayna had prepared for them in celebration of going public and finally being free to properly date.

“I thought you didn’t cook.”

“Usually I don’t, but I can make an exception if I feel the circumstances are special enough.”

“No, I mean, you said sometimes coffee is all you have.”

Ayna chuckles lightheartedly. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I can’t cook, it means I unfortunately don’t have much time for it.”

“So, does that mean I’m special?” Kennedy can't help the fluttering of her heart and the wide grin from reaching her face at the thought of Ayna dedicating so much to their date.

“You’re the most special of circumstances," resting her hands on Kennedy's shoulders, Ayna gently coaxes the younger woman towards the dinner table. "Now come, before the food gets cold. I hope you enjoy it.”

Kennedy was surprised by how rich and flavorful it all tasted, and as the thick and sweet aroma filling the air lured her into a deep sense of comfort, she was amazed to keep discovering all these layers to her girlfriend.

She learned that cooking was soothing for Ayna, as it reminded the woman of her daadi, who used to say there could be no warmth of heart with an empty stomach. Kennedy was wooed through and through that night, and if cooking was an activity Ayna enjoyed, she wanted to be able to enjoy it with her. But the truth was she couldn't cook if her life dependend on it, so by the end of the night she made Ayna agree to teach her something someday.

"Why pizza? I thought we were going for something Indian."

"You're the one who said you wanted to start easy. Let's hold on the spices for now."

"Fine, I'll trust you. Teach me like I'm one of your French girls." Kennedy grinned, doing as close to a Kate Winslet impersonation as she managed.

"Preferably not naked, though," Ayna teased as she approached Kennedy with an apron, motioning for Kennedy to pass her head through it. "Tomato sauce sometimes gets a little explosive and I don't want you to get burned", she continued as she circled around Kennedy to fasten the straps behind her back.

As expected, Ayna was no less of a teacher in the kitchen than she was in the classroom. She calmly explained everything they were doing and why, from why they needed to boil water to peel off and seed the tomatoes, to how to properly cut them and remove their stem and core to make the process easier.

“We’ll just cook them for little while so the skin comes off easier.”

Once the tomatoes had been set in the boiling water, they moved onto all the other steps. "No respectable sauce lacks onion," Ayna explained, "but chopping them can be tricky. If you get too uncomfortable, tell me and I can do it by myself."

"No way, I'm having the full experience." Kennedy replied, although her eyes did make her almost regret her choice.

When the tomatoes cooked to the right point and they shocked them in iced water, Kennedy was almost amazed by how easily the skin came off.

“Nice trick,” she remarked, as she quickly took care of her task.

“Yeah it is. And it works with potatoes too.”

“You mean I don’t have to spend an hour peeling potatoes?”

“You mean you have peeled potatoes before?” Ayna raised her eyebrows in genuine curiosity.

“Mom tried taking cooking classes once and got me into it too. It didn’t go very well,” Kennedy grinned sheepishly.

“And how is it going now?”

“A lot better. It turns out I just had the wrong teacher,” this time Kennedy offered Ayna a wink and a huge smile, being then rewarded with a peck on the lips.

“Here, let’s sievel the seeds and dice them.”

When it came to dicing the tomatoes, Kennedy felt like she finally could use a more hands-on approach to compensate the fact she was losing some precious cuddling time, so she made sure Ayna would notice she was doing it the wrong way.

“You’re cutting them too big.”

"Oh no, silly me. Can you come over here and show me how to do it? I might do it better if you guide my hand,” Kennedy stated, feigning as much innocence as she could.

"You’re just baiting me."

"Is it working?"

"Yes."

Ayna came closer from behind and wrapped her arms around Kennedy, resting her hands atop the younger woman’s, guiding her movements gently. Kennedy took advantage of the moment as she could, leaning back and sinking further into Ayna’s embrace. She would definitely sign up for more cooking sessions if it involved this kind of teaching.

After many demonstrations more than it was actually necessary, Ayna rested her hands on Kennedy’s waist and moved her head to the side so her lips could softly brush against Kennedy’s ear, “Do you think you can get it right now?” She whispered.

“Y-yeah, I think,” Kennedy stuttered, tilting her head to the side to expose more of her neck.

Ayna nuzzled her nose into Kennedy’s neck for a few seconds before saying  “Good, let’s finish this.”

“Buzzkill.”

“Try hungry.”

With the ingredients now all set to go, they moved the chopped onions to a pot and let them fry for a little while. As Kennedy stirs the pot to keep the onions from burning, the sound of them sizzling mixed with its heavenly smell set such a mood of domesticity, Kennedy felt a weird sense of nostalgia for something she never really had.

“Hey, thank you for teaching me. This feels nice.”

“Of course,” Ayna smiled broadly, brushing a loose lock of Kennedy’s hair behind her ear fondly, because the truth was there was little Kennedy could ask of her that she wouldn’t give. “Here comes the tomatoes.”

A few minutes of simmering later and the sauce was ready and good to go, its bright red color contrasting with the paleness of the dough.

With Ayna’s guidance, Kennedy assembled the pizza with their homemade sauce, lots of cheese (the true secret was to use good cheese, Ayna had said) and fresh basil leaves for extra flavor, and they set it to the oven. All they had to do now was wait.

“Have you thought about what you’re gonna do now?” Ayna asked as she setted up the oven timer.

“Hmm, wait for it to bake so we can eat?”  

“I mean about Vancross. You came to help your mom with the Summit, didn’t you? To make allies?” She clarified, moving to help Kennedy out of her apron and taking her own off as well.

“Not just that. I came to study really.”

Once both were free of their aprons, Ayna started going about the kitchen, storing back everything they haven’t used. “Didn’t you tell me once you weren’t sure if going into politics was really what you wanted?”

“You remember that?” Kennedy asked surprised, the memory kind of distant. It was the first time they talked outside of the classroom.

“I remember everything about you.”

“Sappy.” It really was and Kennedy wouldn’t not remark on it, but on the inside she was very much melting. Ayna only smiled in return and raised her eyebrows, challenging Kennedy to not deviate from the subject. "But you're right. I came mostly because she wanted me to."

"Well, you seemed to thrive here, so I’m just curious as to how you feel about continuing your studies."

"I haven’t thought about it yet." Kennedy replied honestly, now sitting on a high stool by the kitchen counter, eyes fixed on Ayna, watching her move around.

"I think it suits you."

"You see me as a politician?"

"Not just in the sense you’re thinking. There’s a lot to this world that doesn’t involve you actually being a candidate and running for office." With a bottle of wine in each hand, Ayna showed both to Kennedy at the same time. "Red or white?"

"Hmm, white." To Kennedy's answer, Ayna just nodded and went for a corckscrew to open it.

"You know, I’ve been listening for so long how I should follow in my mom's footsteps that I guess I never really contemplated anything else."

"You do have a knack for making people feel at ease, and I’ve seen you do great at solving issues and leaving everyone involved satisfied. And you did great at avoiding conflict too." Ayna said as she approached with two glasses of wine, offering one to Kennedy. "Watching your debate was nice, it felt like you were in your element."

Kennedy took the offered glass and spent  a few seconds twirling the wine around it before sipping. "Yeah, I thought I’d be going through a minefield with that assignment, but working with Blaine was surprisingly easy and not that conflituous,” she said, reaching for and pulling Ayna closer to her, scooting backwards and giving Ayna more space to settle in the space between her legs.

“Hmpf, I’d rather not think of how exactly you avoided conflict with him.” Ayna retorted, gulping down a very big sip of her own glass of wine.

"What? You don’t like picturing me charming Blaine off?"

"Uh, no?" Ayna moved away swiftly, her demeanor challenging, as if saying “did you really just ask me that?”

“You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“Is that why you love pushing my buttons?” Ayna asked narrowing her eyes.

“I mean, it can get pretty intense sometimes. Jealous you is hot,” Kennedy replied teasingly.

“So you really do just do it to get a rise out of me.” Annoyed, Ayna took a step back and started to fully distance herself from Kennedy’s reach.

“Hey, I’m sorry, ok?” Kennedy hurried to apologize, realizing she missed the mark on this one. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she added, drawing Ayna back to her. To her relief, Ayna offered no resistance, and Kennedy took advantage of it wrapping her into her arms, guiding Ayna’s head to rest on her shoulder. “It was dumb of me, I’m sorry.”

“No, I am sorry. I’m not usually jealous like this, I just— oof,” Ayna shaked her head, sighing dramatically before settling back into the comfort of her girlfriend’s arms, “I’m not used to this feeling.”

“If it makes you feel better, I promise when we were working on that debate, we were really just working on the debate.”

“Really?” Ayna lifted her head up to look at Kennedy, her own eyes holding such a look of childlike hope Kennedy just found it damn adorable.

“Yes, I swear. By then, I was already completely charmed off by a certain TA. Getting you out of my head was no easy task.”

Ayna flashed a bright smile, cheeks flushing slightly as she lowered her gaze, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“See? You can’t smile like that and expect me to not think about that all day.” Kennedy exclaimed, gently lifting Ayna’s head back again  and leaning in for a kiss.

It was supposed to be a quick reaffirming kiss only, but Kennedy decided she had spent far too long of today already not kissing her girlfriend, so she jumped off the stool to be able do it properly. She placed one hand on Ayna’s lower back and the other at the back of her head, entangling her fingers into Ayna’s locks and bringing their bodies as close as possible.

“We’re digressing,” Ayna grinned through the kiss.

“I like this subject better.” Kennedy replied quickly, just as quickly diving in for another kiss, only to be met with a smirking and uncooperative Ayna. “Nice try, but I’m not about to let our pizza burn. And I know where this will lead us."

“Would that be so bad?”

“It would if we end up setting the apartment on fire.”

Kennedy was ready to retort, or whine, to be more specific, when the oven timer set off.  “Saved by the bell.”

To follow on the theme of having the full experience, Kennedy was the one to take the pizza out, with Ayna hovering around her fearful she would burn herself.

“Relax, I got this. Go sit by the table and let me pamper you for a little bit.”

Ayna complied, albeit reluctantly, and Kennedy did the best she could cutting and serving the pizza (it shouldn’t be that difficult, right?). The looks and smell of it were incredibly promising of a good meal. The bright yellow mixed with the few golden spots of over baked cheese coupled with the contrast given by the green leaves against the red sauce certainly provided a sight for hungry eyes, and the heavenly smell of any fresh off the oven pizza certainly didn’t hurt either.

“Whoa, this turned out to be really good,” Kennedy exclaimed in between bites, munching excitedly and occasionaly closing her eyes to further appreciate it, letting out satisfied little grunts. She would never have guessed pre made frozen dough could actually turn into a perfect crunchy crust.

With a hint of amusement at Kennedy's eagerness over pizza, Ayna teased, “You sound surprised."

“Well, yeah, it had me involved."

“Hey, don’t ditch your sous chef.” Ayna said, feigning indignation. Kennedy bends over in Ayna's direction, placing a quick chaste kiss on her cheek. "You're a really great cook. Thank you for this."

The rest of the dinner went by much in the same manner. Kennedy was reveling in the fact her audience wouldn't berate her for not being the image of the prim and proper lady, and at some point she may even have indulged in foregoing the silverware and going straight for the kill with her hands. Truth be told, Ayna was delighted by the sight, and vowed to always make sure Kennedy could be whoever she wanted to be with her.

Once they were belly filled and satisfied, they moved back to the living room, glasses of wine in hand, a recently new opened bottle resting on the coffee table. The reality of it was that none wished for their night to end just yet, and they talked about as many meaningless and trivial subjects as they could think of, conversation flowing freely. But by the time their second bottle was nearly done with, Kennedy noticed Ayna was getting more and more quiet, almost as if lost in thought.

"Penny for your thoughts?" She inquired softly, nudging Ayna lightly, trying to prompt the woman to share what had her suddenly silent.

"I was just thinking about what we were talking earlier."

"We talked about many things," Kennedy replied, leaving both their glasses on the coffee table and moving back to the couch. She sprawled herself on the lenght of it, resting her head on Ayna's lap. "What has gotten you so pensive?"

"You", Ayna stated matter of factly, adjusting herself so Kennedy could fit in better. She brought both her hands to Kennedy's hair, caressing it tenderly, before continuing. “And your mom. You don’t have to antagonize her to follow your own path but you don’t need to follow in her footsteps either."

Kennedy remained silent. She didn't know exactly what to answer to that, for one, and she was sure Ayna would have more to say. She limited herself to closing her eyes, enjoying the soothing feeling of Ayna's hands on her hair.

Taking Kennedy's silence as encouragement (or at least not discouragement), Ayna added, "Sure, you’ll always face some level of scrutiny and expectations, even when she steps down from office, but you can still make choices of your own. I’m sure your mom would be supportive and proud of you.”

“You sure about that? I doubt it sometimes.”

“She may come off as distant and nonchalant, but I think it’s just because she’s really busy. She really cares about you.”

“Yeah, I know this whole mess brought us closer, but sometimes I wonder why we drifted apart in the first place. I miss her.”

"You don’t have to miss her, she’s right there. And you don’t have to hinder your future because you decided to stick yourself with the rebel role. There’s nothing wrong with changing your mind."

“I love you so much, you know that?" Kennedy inquired, a glint of admiration in her eyes as she sits herself back up to place a kiss on Ayna's lips. She then moved to take one of Ayna's hand on hers, squeezing tightly. "You say the greatest things. And you’re right. I thought at some point about leaving just so I could go against her, but truth is I kind of enjoyed this year here”.

As Kennedy was about to drop Ayna's hand, the older woman just incresead her own hold, not letting Kennedy go. “Whatever you choose, I’m sure you’re gonna do great. You’re hard working and focused, you could make anything work. And I’ll be rooting for you every step of the way.”

“Even if it means I leave Vancross?” Kennedy tilted her head to the side, an expression of incredulity and maybe disbelief on her face.

“Why not? I want you to be happy. If you realize that’s what you want, go for it. I like believing we're strong enough to survive us not being so close together all the time.”

“I like believing that too.”

“In any case, I don't think I wish Vancross to be my endgame anymore.”

“No? But you love teaching?”

“I do. But Vancross is not the only educational institution in the world. I could finish my thesis here and leave, or I could leave and finish it somewhere else. Assuming I can have a nice recommendation from here that is.”

Kennedy's expression softened considerably after that, now holding as many emotions as the number of beats per minute her racing heart is doing. It was hope, delight, caring, love. "What are you really saying?"

"I'm saying I'll go wherever you will if you'll have me."

Goddamn. With that sentence Ayna managed to increase Kennedy’s heart rate by tenfold and the younger woman loved it. She realized she hasn’t been this excited and hopeful for the future in the longest while, and she was eager to show Ayna just how much. Smiling widely she wasted no time in straddling the TA’s lap, moving her hips against Ayna’s, just to make sure her point would come across perfectly. When she felt Ayna bringing her hands against her back, letting out a low, quiet moan, Kennedy leaned in.

"Can we go back to digressing now? There’s no more pizza left to burn."

[the-haven-of-fiction]

Not A Christmas Movie

Genre/Rating: Fluff and Sweetness of the holiday variety, T

Summary:  Tom and Astrid find themselves in a unique situation on Christmas Eve. 

Author’s Notes:  My first sappy romantic Christmas one shot, y’all!  Move over, Hallmark!  I tried to cover some of the best cheesy themes, I hope you enjoy it.  Thank you to Pillow Talk and Lolo for proofing.  

The sound of the wind and snow raced through the trees and whipped against the walls of the cabin, the remote mountainous location devoid of any welcoming lights from neighbors.  The two travelers dropped their luggage upon crossing the threshold and rushed to push the heavy door shut behind them.   

“When we get through this, neither you nor my sisters are ever allowed to make fun of my emergency preparedness again!  We’d be in major trouble without it!” Astrid declared, brushing snow off her jacket and holding up the lantern from the referenced emergency preparedness with her other hand as Tom attempted to lock the door.

“I think I can safely and assuredly,” he paused to run his tongue over his perpetually chapped lips in concentration, “give you my word as an Englishman that I shall never,” a grunt of effort, “allow either myself or your sisters to utter a syllable of criticism on that score.”  

She couldn’t help but giggle at his struggle with the lock.  

“Remember when you had the brilliant idea to build a set for one of our backyard holiday productions?  Was that when you played Scrooge?  Your word as an Englishman may be good as gold, but your complete lack of skill with anything slightly mechanical is something I wouldn’t swear by.”

Even in the dim light of the lantern, the slight twitch of a smile was visible on his face, the vision of the pathetic attempt so vivid in his memory.  

“No one is going to believe this,” she sighed, shivering and looking around for a light switch.

“Truth is stranger than fiction,” Tom quipped. “The best intentions of a Christmas surprise, a series of unfortunate events, a comedy of errors…”

“I blame my soon to be ex-mechanic, the weatherman, Anya and Arlyss and their crazy idea about trying to organize our families into coming out here to the wilderness to have some kind of storybook Christmas,” she huffed, fumbling along the wall, but finding the switch and flipping it to On in relief.

They both groaned when nothing happened.  No electricity, no heat.

“They must have disconnected the electricity during renovations, fantastic.”  He followed close behind her as they made their way around the cabin.  Although the snowstorm was in full force and there weren’t any outside lights on the driveway, they could see evidence of construction as they had pulled up a few minutes earlier.  

“Well, at least there’s a fireplace and I think there is actually a pile of wood next to it,” Astrid pointed as she spoke.  “How about that.  Must have been stocked by the same person who left the door unlocked. Remind me never to hire this company, whoever they are.”

“I could go outside and check for the…uhm…the…” Tom stuttered and gestured, making what she assumed was meant to be a square shape of some kind.

“The breaker box?” she asked dryly.  

“Exactly, yes,” he answered in a tone of false bravado, clearing his throat. “I was merely waiting to see if you knew the name.”

“Santa doesn’t bring presents to little boys who lie, ya know.”  She set the lantern on the mantle next to a small glass dish of matches.  “Especially little boys who grew up in a centuries-old estate and have servants who take care of locking the doors and fixing the electrical problems.”

“They are not servants, they are staff, Miss Sassy, and I doubt Father Christmas knows we are here, no one does,” he replied.  “Add the one forgotten mobile and the other with no service to the list of things that won’t be believed.”

“Well, anyways, Professor,” she went on in an exaggerated manner, “I may have a First Aid kit in my emergency supplies, but I am not equipped to perform any surgery on wounds you would most certainly incur from trying to play Electrician.”

He knew she was correct and they both smiled, cheeks rosy with cold.

“I suppose it was fortuitous that I ended up teaching Classics rather than embarking upon a career in carpentry.”

Astrid got a fire going and they were able to scope out their surroundings more thoroughly. A last-minute change of plans had allowed the visiting Tom and originally scheduled-to-work Astrid to join their families in the mountains for Christmas, but a quick succession of unforeseen events had brought them here, stranded close to midnight in a semi-livable cabin during a snowstorm on Christmas Eve.

The owners must have been undergoing some kind of renovations.  The cabin obviously had been inhabited previously, but half the interior wasn’t complete, including the kitchen.

“The toilet flushes!” she shouted from the bathroom.  “And there’s running water in the sink!”

“Unfortunately there is no sofa or chairs of any sort and only one bedroom,” he reported when she came back into the main room, “No fireplace, but it does have a bed with linens.”

“Well, my kit has extra batteries so we should be okay with the lantern in there,” she assured him, completely missing his point about the issue of a single bed.

He noticed that her shivering wasn’t decreasing as much as it should, looking her up and down in concern.  She was wearing an ankle-length corduroy skirt in a shade that matched her eyes, with a long-sleeved but thin sweater.  

“I think we should go through our luggage and put on a couple of more layers.  That centuries-old estate was a bit drafty, so I am accustomed to an indoor chill,” he informed her with a tinge of that irritating blend of both humility and privilege.

She rolled her eyes, but went over to her suitcase and started sifting through her clothes.  

“You and the twins have always been bossy. It’s a wonder how I have managed to get through life as an adult without the three of you hovering over me like you did when I was a kid.”

He pulled on another shirt and grinned at her.

“I still remember the day you were born.  I was visiting Dad and Roberta that year for Christmas,” referring to the alternating schedule their families had of who went to which country for the holidays. “And your sisters and I were old enough to be excited rather than jealous of a new child coming.”

Astrid turned away from him, hoping he wouldn’t see her reaction.  Why did it please her so much to hear him speak of her birth with such affection?  It must be this ridiculous situation.  And the holiday.  And her birthday.  And this sparkling blue-eyed man whose place in her life she had never been quite able to define.  Not a blood relation, but as close as a family member, certainly more than a friend.  But more than a friend, in that sense?  College and adulthood had made the unanswered question less important, as the shared summers and holidays of their childhood had grown fewer and fewer.  She didn’t let herself ponder why he hadn’t married and had a dozen children to help him keep up that manor. Any woman would be elated at the prospect of sharing her life with him; she knew he had a string of casual relationships, just as she had, but their age difference had made her sure years ago that he would be a distant memory by this time.  

“Born on Christmas Day to parents named Joseph and Mary, merely the beginning of my life’s trajectory of ‘You won’t believe this!’ events, continuing to this bizarre night that has practically every plot point needed for a cheesy holiday movie except that we aren’t secretly pining for each other.”  She zipped up the windbreaker over the thicker sweater before reaching for her parka, not seeing the brief flicker in his eyes.

“Did you know that Arliss wanted to call you Snowflake and Anya’s choice was Mistletoe?” Tom picked up her scarf and hat that he had placed on the hearth so they would be toasty and walked back to her.

“I hear that story every year, along with all the suggestions from everyone to aunts and uncles to the postman.  Thank God my parents went with something on theme, but not silly.”  She pulled on her boots after a second pair of socks and looked up at him.

His expression changed and he drew in a short breath.

“Do you like your name?”

The inquiry was brimming with something that sounded like hope to her.

“Oh, yes, I’ve always loved it.  In fact, I love it as much as I’ve disliked having a birthday on Christmas because it is beautiful and unique and it made me feel beautiful and unique.”

A wave of pure delight lit up his face and something clicked in her mind.  Her parents’ version of where her name came from was always that someone had mentioned it to them and they couldn’t remember who it had been.

“It was you, wasn’t it,” Astrid said.  And it wasn’t a question. “It was your suggestion.”

He worried at his lower lip, a tic she’d come to know years ago that was a sure indication of him being both pleased and embarrassed.

“Yes,” the soft affirmation punctuated by the crackles and pops from the fire. “And your description is precisely how I thought of it then, thanks to having just started Latin in school, and,” a heartbeat of silence, “it is how I think of you now.”

He was standing directly in front of her and paused to survey her face for a few seconds before tapping lightly under her chin.  

Without even thinking about it, it seemed, she looked up at the ceiling so he could wrap the heated scarf around her neck.  The warmth felt wonderful, although the feeling caused by this stunning revelation about her name and the look on his face was already warming her up in a way she tried to herself wasn’t happening.

He tucked her hair behind her ears and pulled the hat down while she argued with herself that he was simply being affectionate in the manner of a friend.

“Well,” she said, a little too loudly, stepping back from him, “That down comforter is calling to me, I guess we should be getting to bed.”

Good heavens, the bed, she thought.  As in one bed.  

As in here, as in they were stuck with a snowstorm swirling around them.  

In a cabin that was being renovated.  With no power or heat.  

On Christmas Eve.  

This couldn’t be real, it was not a Christmas movie.

“I suppose we should,” still in that soft voice.  

A distraction.  She needed a distraction.

“Oh!  I just remembered!  I have my favorite Christmas movie downloaded on my phone, we can watch it before we go to sleep.”

Less than two hours later, David Niven was giving his sermon and Loretta Young was gazing up at him while Cary Grant walked away in the snow.  Tom was propped up a bit against the headboard and had insisted on holding the phone so she could stay under the blankets.  Somehow she had ended up almost pasted to his side as the story progressed and his arm was around her.  About halfway through, they’d had a little tussle about whether or not he should leave the warm cocoon of the bed and get them another candy cane from her Snack Pack.  He argued that they had already brushed their teeth, but a sincere plea from her with an affectionate “Be naughty with me, Professor!” addition was something he simply couldn’t resist.  

She sighed and closed her eyes, contented and drowsy and finally no longer cold, too tired and confused to attempt to figure out what was happening, how years of ignoring what was just below the surface had nearly bubbled over.  It was impossible.  He wasn’t interested.  He was just being Tom.  Typical Tom.  Caring, attentive, making you feel like you were the only person in the room.  She wouldn’t think about this anymore right now.  Maybe tomorrow.  Or not.  

Tom closed the app on her phone and noticed the time.

“Hey there, it’s 12:01.”

“Mmhhmm,” she murmured, feeling herself about to drift off.  He was so familiar, so comforting, so exactly like Christmas itself should be.  She wanted to enjoy this moment before she went back to being the little kid and he the older…the older what?

“Happy Birthday,” he said and dipped his head to kiss her forehead, his breath sweet from the earlier candy cane.

She turned upwards toward him without opening her eyes to give him a peck on the cheek, almost without knowing what she was doing in her sleepy state, but she miscalculated and missed his cheek, her mouth landing on his.

He didn’t jerk back in shock.  Or horror.

It’s now or never, she thought, suddenly wide awake and ready to throw caution out the window that was probably frozen shut by now.

Ten seconds later, ten minutes later, she wasn’t sure which, he pulled back breathlessly and she opened her eyes. 

“What are you doing?” he asked in bewilderment, in surprise, but not in accusation.

“I’m kissing you, do you mind?” she responded, quickly pulling off her mittens and his beanie so she could sink her fingers into his curls.

“I, uhm…”

“Have no fear for your virtue, Thomas,” she teased in a low voice, tugging on a fistful of those ginger locks and causing a sharp gasp from him that thrilled her and gave her courage. “We are wrapped up like a couple of stuffed sausages in this icebox and there is a foot of clothing between us.”  

His gaze narrowed and focused on her lips.

Another kiss, sweet and shy, but sure.

“I thought we weren’t secretly pining for each other,” he quoted her words back to her.

“I lied,” Astrid admitted while placing a string of kisses down his nose and nipping the tip. 

The gasp changed to a growl, his grip on her upper arms tightening.

“Santa doesn’t bring presents to little girls who lie,” using her words against her, again.

She kissed him, again.  Longer, lingering.

They were side by side now, the blankets becoming tangled.

“Did you lie?” she whispered, not knowing what to do next if he denied it, but also feeling like she couldn’t let another minute pass without settling the matter.

He propped himself up on an elbow and raised an eyebrow at her.

“I don’t recall either confirming or denying your assertion at the time,” wanting to tease her in return.

“But,” he rushed to continue upon seeing her immediately crestfallen, “I will make it absolutely clear now,” each word followed by a brush of his lips across her jaw and down her neck, “that you,” lifting his head to smile at her, “are the one I desire.”

Tears of happiness welled up and slipped down her cheeks.  

“Happy Christmas, my starshine,” he whispered against her lips.

[themurphyzone]

PatB Oneshot: Every Rose Has Thorns and Petals

Summary: Brain’s plan is simple: create a Valentine card with a message that the world should adore him as their new ruler. But he needs extra help in coming up with a catchy message to rein in the consumers for the outer cover. And who better to help than the expert of all things amour?

AN: I decided to see if I could write a good Suavo. Enjoy! Warning for terribly cheesy flirting. I don’t typically write this genre XD

This borrows from the HC that Pinky can still do the Suavo persona.

Written for Valentine's Day/Suavo Sunday. I regret everything.

AO3 Link

At last, a new plan came to fruition! With Valentine’s Day looming upon them with its chocolate-coated fangs and sickly sweet aroma, people would be flocking to grocery stores everywhere to purchase giant teddy bears they could barely carry around and heart-shaped boxes of gourmet chocolate. But most lucrative of all, they would buy Valentine cards with the most obnoxious lovestruck messages that were far cheesier than Pinky’s cheesecake.

Everything clicked into place. The slightly larger than average dimensions of a Valentine’s card. Various red and pink hues for the envelopes. Colorful images with hearts, roses, and Pinky on the front cover (for Pinky met all of the scientific criteria that triggered one’s protective instincts). And on the inside, an image of Brain standing on the world in royal regalia with a message declaring that all the world shall adore him as their new leader.

But there was a single, glaring flaw to his otherwise brilliant plan.

He could not come up with a ridiculous phrase for the outside cover. It had to be eye-catching, humorous, or corny enough to grab a customer’s attention. He stared at the smiling picture of Pinky for several minutes, then gave in.

Pinky was the expert in all things ridiculous after all.

“Life is the road I wanna keep going! Love is a river and I wanna keep going ooonnnn!” Pinky sang along to his playlist, leading a Barbie doll in a tender waltz.

And it was best to interrupt before Pinky’s playlist reached My Heart Will Go On. That sappy 90s love ballad was on there. He was not striking the King of the World pose until he was actually king of the world, but that assertion hadn’t gotten through Pinky’s cotton-stuffed head yet.

Brain grabbed the prototype card and pencil, marching up to the windowsill where Pinky and Barbie danced under the evening sky. The sun lowered, the moon rose, and the first twinkling stars poked out, signifying the beginning of another night.

The phone was propped against a wall, and Brain smacked the image of Anastasia and Dmitri dancing to stop the song as he passed by. Pinky continued to hum, dipping Barbie low enough that her blonde hair touched the windowsill. His eyes were half-lidded, tail swishing to an invisible beat. Though there was no music, his rhythm was steady and his feet never missed a step.

It was mesmerizing. Pinky danced with all the grace of a professional ballerina.

He pricked his finger on a sharp point of the prototype card, and the poke brought Brain back to reality. Right. No distractions.

“Hiya, Brain! Zort!”

Dear Archimedes there were otherworldly blue eyes right in front of his face.  

Startled, Brain leapt back and swung his pencil defensively. There was a muffled narf as the eraser end went into Pinky’s mouth. Once the initial shock passed, Pinky giggled and nibbled on the eraser, several rubbery shavings poking out between his teeth.  

Brain took a deep breath, trying to calm his too-fast heartbeat.

“Quit slobbering on my erasers, Pinky,” Brain snapped. He removed his pencil from Pinky’s mouth, wrinkling his nose at the saliva-coated eraser. He tossed it aside, and the pencil skittered across the counter and onto the floor.

“But they taste so good!” Pinky licked his lips. “Especially with a pinch of dryer lint. That way you get fluff and chewiness in one single fantastic bite!”

Sometimes he truly worried for the state of Pinky’s digestive tract. For now, it was best to change the topic entirely. “As much as I’d love to debate the intricacies of your exotic cuisine, I require some of your eccentric expertise for my latest plan,” Brain said, setting the prototype card on the counter.

Pinky’s tail and ears perked up. A predictable reaction, but reliable all the same.

While Pinky put Barbie away, Brain retrieved a new pencil. There were few writing utensils that weren’t chewed up by a bored employee or Pinky for fun, and it wouldn’t be long before Brain would have to acquire more.

“I gotta help Brain now, Barbie. Thanks for sharing a dance with me! Those ballroom dance classes are really paying off!” Pinky chirped, waving to the inanimate Barbie, who now sat in a pink plastic convertible next to a shirtless Ken doll. He peeked inside the card and clasped his hands together, holding them against his cheek dreamily. “Awww, Brain! This is gonna be so romantic!”

“The very atmosphere I intend to create with these mass-produced cards, Pinky,” Brain replied. “However, while I have all the elements of your typical Valentine card alongside an additional message that will aid us in our conquest, I haven’t worked out one essential component yet.”

He closed the card and tapped the empty speech bubble next to Pinky’s image.

Pinky tilted his head. “You haven’t figured out how to make single people buy your cards yet?”

Drat. He hadn’t considered those outliers.

“Then we’ll just have to infiltrate the postal service,” Brain said, mentally congratulating himself on correcting that error quickly. “But before we implement the plan, I need a Valentine phrase for this speech bubble. A saying that will entice the average infatuated consumer and hook them into purchasing my cards alone. And since you lean heavily toward the sentimental and saccharine…well, this is where I require your assistance.”

“The sentimental and the saccharine?” Pinky echoed. “I don’t think I’ve heard of that soap opera, Brain. What channel is it on?”

Brain opened his notebook and found an empty page, poised to jot down Pinky’s suggestions. “The real life channel. Don’t be concerned about missing it, Pinky. It’s on 24/7 all year long. But I digress. The sooner I find a phrase, the sooner we’ll have the world!”

Pinky tapped his foot in thought, the tip of his tongue poking out like he truly believed protruding tongues had the power to magically grant ideas. For all Brain knew, Pinky probably believed that.

Then Pinky snapped his fingers. “I got it! How ‘bout ‘be mine, valentine’?”

“Too cliché,” Brain muttered. A million Valentine cards would already have similar phrasing. They didn’t have time to seize control of a greeting card factory. “Not unique enough.”

Although the valentine bit wasn’t particularly directed toward him, his grip on the pencil slackened, the tip leaving a graphite smudge along the margins. He quickly turned the pencil around and erased it, hoping Pinky didn’t catch onto his brief moment of inattention.  

Fortunately, Pinky didn’t notice. “Alrighty then. Hmmm…you’re the sour cream to my cheese-slathered potato?”

“…I’ll save it for a last resort.”

Well, he asked for unique. But sour cream didn’t particularly invoke strong Valentine feelings. Idioms that involved sweet foods with enough sugar to induce diabetes in an elephant would be better, and he made a quick note to the side.

“I turtle-y adore you?” Pinky suggested, his blue eyes sparkling accordingly.

Brain felt a light blush settling over his cheeks, and he rubbed his fur to rid himself of the mortifying feeling. “Doesn’t match your picture. And no animal puns unless they involve mice.”

Pinky rubbed his chin, not one to be easily deterred. “There’s gotta be some good ones on the Internet.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, Pinky,” Brain sighed. He sat cross-legged on the counter, massaging his forehead to intercept any headaches before they began. “Figured we should’ve gone with the photobooth plan. It’s your fault for influencing my subconscious with your caterwauling over The Princess Bride’s movie adaptation.”

“Troz! I’ll have you know Princess Buttercup and Westley have great chemistry!” Pinky pouted.

Brain rolled his eyes. “Please. They’re about as compatible as two noble gases.”

Pinky went quiet after that. Whether he’d gone off into the imaginary world of talking cheeses or taken unusually great offense on the lead couple’s behalf, Brain wasn’t sure. But the silence obliged, and Brain took the opportunity to ponder their next course of action.

Take a risk and use one of Pinky’s earlier suggestions? Scrap the plan entirely and pull one from storage? Seek a second opinion?  

Then Pinky gasped, his tail pointing high in the air like an inverted exclamation point.

“Brain, are you pondering what I’m pondering?” Pinky asked, gripping Brain’s shoulders in excitement.

Brain leaned back, supporting himself on the palms of his hands. “We break out the Feldman disguises and ask Mr. Sultana for his opinion on what a hypothetical Valentine card should say?”

“I’m sure he’s got a bunch of good ones, but that’s not it,” Pinky said. “Actually, I oughta slip into something more…in-character. I’ll be right back!”

Pinky skipped away, humming as he went over to his dress-up box in the corner of their cage. He pulled a divider around himself so that all Brain could see was a shadowy silhouette rummaging through clothing and accessories.

Brain continued to ponder, though no feasible ideas were coming to him. He closed his eyes, shutting out all visual forms of distraction. He listened to Pinky dressing in the cage, but it was more white noise than a true hindrance.

Five minutes later, he still had nothing. But there was something…different.

A tantalizing scent. Not overly sharp, though just light enough that he couldn’t identify it with confidence. And he wanted to know more.

It wasn’t fruit or soap. Nor was it vanilla, like the scented candles Pinky loved so much.

Something smooth snaked its way under his nose, brushing the fur above his lips. The scent was closer now. His nose twitched.

“ACHOO!”

Startled by the force of his sudden sneeze, Brain’s eyes flew open. He rubbed his nose to wipe off the lingering sensation, staring down at Pinky’s long tail, which sat unassumingly in his lap. The tip was wrapped around the stem of a small red rose.

The tail lifted, rubbing against the fur under Brain’s chin. Brain felt his cheeks heat up again, and he quickly batted the offending appendage away.

“Pinky, you’re not helping my state of-“ Brain began, ready to launch into a verbal tirade on how he needed to think and if Pinky wasn’t going to help then he could make like a mitotic cell and split…and then he saw a very familiar, perhaps all too-familiar, lavender tuxedo with an overstuffed dark purple…something underneath.

He couldn’t tell if it was a shirt, vest, or pincushion. A gold button glinted in the middle of Pinky’s chest.

Gulping, Brain knew the mysterious article of clothing was the least of his concerns. He forced himself to look up, gaze raking past the slender neck and toward half-lidded, coy blue eyes. A sophisticated mustache poked out from each side of Pinky’s muzzle. And he was genteel, charismatic…

Suave.  

Pinky’s ability to play a character to perfection never ceased to astound him. He still remembered? Brain had long destroyed the Personalitron and its blueprints, deeming them unnecessary and cumbersome.

“Pardonnez-moi, you with the giant head and marshmallow body are seeking the passionate advice of I, the great Pinky…Suavvvo-“ he drawled every syllable with that odd French accent, r’s rolling off his tongue like smooth butter “-for your…ah, Saint Valentine card, no?”  

Fu—choose your words wisely—I mean, dear name of a historical contributor to the scientific or mathematical field who I can’t identify properly at this time.

“I fail to see how playing dress-up is going to help with this conundrum, Pinky Suavo.” Brain stood up and crossed his arms. He wasn’t about to let the Suavo persona sway him. He was the Brain, and he bowed to no one.

Exert control over the situation. Yes. That’s what he needed.

Suavo plucked the rose from his tail between two practiced fingers, inhaling its scent deeply. Where did he even get that rose from? The lab wasn’t growing flora for any reason, nor did any scientist have the green thumb to care for anything so fragile.

“Oh, but love is always…how did you say, a conundrum, is it not?” he purred, and Brain scowled. But Suavo was unperturbed. “One may pluck the petals from a pretty flower and ask if one loves or loves not, yet how will one know if they ask the flower and not the lover? Oh, I do not know.”

His voice dipped into a lower, softer register, and a strange sensation traveled up Brain’s spine. Though the riddle seemed directed at him, he wasn’t in the mood to unravel any cryptic meanings.

Just like before, Suavo’s magnetism was…hypnotizing. Like he had no choice but to do what Pinky Suavo said. And wasn’t that ironic? He, the Brain, as the hapless follower instead of the commanding leader.

Suavo appeared oblivious to Brain’s internal dilemma. He simply set the rose back into his tail and twirled one curled end of the mustache around his finger, humming a dreamy, sentimental song to himself. He was waiting on Brain in the most irritating fashion possible.

But if he wanted this plan to work, he’d just have to tolerate Pinky’s attempt at resolving his predicament.

“Pinky Suavo,” Brain sighed, forcing all his pride back. Suavo turned to him, his eyes still in that odd half-lidded position. “Is that overstuffed pincushion actually giving you ideas for the card?”

“Of course, mon ami.” Suavo slicked his ears and fur tuft back with a smooth, graceful stroke of his hand. “For it is he, who is I, who is the connoisseur of…ammooooouuuur.”

Brain grabbed his notepad and pencil, his stomach doing odd backflips like butterflies had somehow burrowed their way into his flesh and laid eggs there. He was not paying attention to Suavo’s hand movements. No, the eye was just naturally drawn to movement. That’s how it worked.

Besides, he was looking at the same being who once managed to get all his fingers and tail tangled up in a complicated cat’s cradle.

Suavo clicked his tongue, deftly plucking the items out of Brain’s grip. “No, no, you silly mouse. You cannot experience amour through pen and paper alone. You must feel it, see it, hear it. For it is everywhere and anywhere you search…if only you would use those big ears of yours.”

Brain gritted his teeth and jumped for his supplies, but Suavo simply held them out of reach with one long arm. All Brain could manage was a tiny hop. It wasn’t getting him anywhere.

So he took a deep breath and forced himself to relax.

“I’m listening, Pinky Suavo,” Brain said, hoping he sounded at least a little cordial. “I believe the colloquial is, I’m all ears?”

A pleased smile flitted across Suavo’s face, his arm lowering.

Perfect.

Then Brain threw himself forward, digging his hands and feet into Suavo’s clothing and hauling himself towards the notepad and pencil. Fortunately, it wasn’t hard to grip. Suavo stumbled a bit, but he refused to yield. Brain grabbed a fabric fold on Suavo’s right shoulder. He was so close-

-and a red nose pushed into his own. Warm, mint-scented breath tickled the fur on his face.

“You know, it is more, ah, polite to take a mouse to dinner before you begin climbing him, is it not?” Suavo crooned.

Brain��s ears flopped against his back, a warm sensation sweeping through his body. His clammy paws lost their grip on Suavo’s clothing, and he would’ve fallen entirely if Suavo’s free arm hadn’t wrapped around his waist and secured him with a strong yet gentle grip.

In hindsight, perhaps his attempt at reclaiming his belongings was ill-thought out.

Perhaps it was for the best that the arm was covered by fabric, but at the same time, some irrational thought of wanting Pinky’s fur against his own wormed its way into his mind.  

Suavo set the notepad and pen down with care, dipping Brain in the process. Brain clutched the fabric tightly, but it was unnecessary. Suavo’s embrace was strong enough to prevent him from landing on his head. Then Suavo straightened up, once again plucking the rose from his tail and holding it next to Brain.  

“Oh, now this is…magnifique,” Suavo murmured, his eyes darting from the rose to Brain’s face. Though Brain tried to maintain eye contact to make his displeasure known, his resolve was quickly crumbling away. Surely it was the close proximity, the thumb stroking his fur, that was picking apart all rational thought and leaving some hormone-driven creature behind?

“What?” Brain asked, and he inwardly cringed. His voice wasn’t working properly. He’d meant to sound more demanding than that pathetic excuse of a question.

“Your eyes, mon ami, are just a few shades lighter this rose,” Suavo said. Brain stared at him in disbelief. Comparing eyes to flowers, or worse, gemstones, was just ridiculous.

And your comparison of Pinky’s aesthetically pleasing eyes to the wild blue yonder above isn’t?

Brain ignored the contemptuous voice. That was completely different. The sky was neither a flower nor a gemstone, and therefore it wasn’t off-limits. Besides, it was a thought for him and him alone. It’s not like anyone else was going to hear it.

“You are but a deer mouse in the headlights. Yet there is no need to hide under a thorny layer,” Suavo hummed, tilting his head curiously. Deliberately. How strange. Even the slightest movement was mesmerizing. His fingers traveled up the flower stem, until his hand rested underneath the petals, supporting the tiny rose in the palm of his hand. “A rosebush may scratch and prick, yet the great Pinky Suavo cannot be swayed. For there’s a pretty bloom hidden in the darkness, and he is who moi shall…shall…NARF!”

Shocked by the return of the nonsensical exclamation, Brain lost his hold on Pinky Suavo’s clothing. He fell onto the counter surface with a pained groan. The hard material wasn’t doing wonders for the bends in his tail.

Something fluttered against his nose, causing Brain to sneeze again. He removed the offending object, and found himself staring down at the rose he’d been teased with. If he ignored the heavy-handed rose imagery Suavo kept spouting, it was rather adequate for a specimen.

“Narf! Zort! Poit! Egad!” Pinky laughed uncontrollably between his usual tics, uttering them at such a fast rate that they started to blend together like a tongue twister. “Ooh, I haven’t—troz! Haven’t said narf in a long time! But it’s poit—it’s okay cause you needed my help!”

Idiot.

Brain sighed and pushed himself to a standing position, then placed the rose on his notepad so Pinky could reclaim it later.

Now that he thought about it, Pinky hadn’t said any of his favorite syllables in his Suavo persona. Of course, they’d been replaced by stupid love poetry and gratuitous French, but the narfs and poits and zorts were rather refreshing.

Odd. He never thought he’d actually miss Pinky’s…unique diction.

“Pinky, were you actively suppressing your usual speech patterns in your strange form of assistance?” Brain asked. He couldn’t help his curiosity.

“Zort! Oh Brain, I’m not nearly as good as suppressing things like you are!” Pinky’s chortles continued as Brain grabbed his wrist and led him straight to the water bottle in their cage. “Besides—narf! Besides, I had to stay in character!”

“Remind me to never have you play a villain for any future plans revolving around cinema,” Brain grumbled.

Pinky’s tail happily flicked against Brain’s own. Though the imbecile was just swishing it around mindlessly, the brief physical contact suddenly brought back that very odd, warm sensation.

Curse this heightened sensitivity! It’s only a principle of thermodynamics and heat transfer!  

“Brain, are you okay? Poit,” Pinky asked as Brain made him sit down in front of the water bottle. “You’re all woozy and whirlywindy. And white and red all over like a newspaper!”

“I’m f-fine,” Brain said. He was absolutely not relying on Pinky for balance. “Just drink, Pinky. And take off those silly clothes when you’re done.”

Pinky stared, not comprehending anything Brain said, but that was normal for him. Then he started to laugh, and only then did Brain realize he needed to watch his word choice, especially around a certain someone, because of course his fluff-filled mind would misconstrue it.

“Not like that!” Brain spat.

Pinky tipped onto his back, legs kicking upwards as his high-pitched laughter continued to assault Brain’s ears.

For the sake of his own sanity, he left Pinky to his own devices and stormed over to the nearest sink. He pushed on the tap for cold water until he’d created his own miniature waterfall, then hopped right in. He welcomed the cascade over his body.

As long as it pushed his homeostasis in the opposite direction, he was fine with resembling a drowned rat for now.

o-o-o-o-o

The plan failed before it ever took off. Brain had been so distracted that he’d failed to notice the lab was completely out of colored ink, rendering the copy machines completely useless.

He’d gone with the ‘you’re the sour cream to my potatoes’ message for the front cover, formatting it into the speech bubble in an elegant cursive font. Though it wasn’t conventional by any means, he simply considered it again since no other suggestions were forthcoming.

But at the same time, part of him wasn’t keen on allowing the masses to lay eyes on the Valentine card.

It seemed special. Unexplainably so.

“Brain?” Pinky called. His verbal tics had long gone back to their normal frequency. “Aren’t we taking over the world tonight?”

Brain shook his head, relieved that he finally had control over his body again. “Not tonight, Pinky. I’m afraid I’ve been prematurely thwarted by the lack of inventory in this lab.”

“Oh, you don’t have to be afraid, Brain,” Pinky said. Gone were Suavo’s clothing and mustache, and Pinky’s lean, muscular arms were on full display as he folded them across his chest. “I’ll protect you from Tory.”

It was an unnecessary gesture, but Brain couldn’t help but be touched by the admission all the same. Brain made a show of carefully placing the card into storage, just so he could distract himself momentarily.  

When he finished his task, he found Pinky holding an elegant paper rose, crafted meticulously with purple tissue paper. A light blush settled over Brain’s cheeks as he accepted the gift from Pinky, whose blue eyes shone brightly as Brain ran his fingers over the soft petals.

“Thank you, Pinky,” Brain said gratefully, and he resisted the urge to rush off immediately and place the paper rose with his globe keychain, another gift from his dearest friend.

“You’re welcome!” Pinky smiled, and Brain’s heart beat faster. Then Pinky’s gaze flicked to the TV screen, and Brain figured he was about to be roped into watching a cheesy love story unfold. “Brain, can we watch Beauty and the Beast please? With those special Valentine M&M’s and chocolate-coated popcorn? I saw a whole bunch in the kitchen! Narf!”  

Well…he could’ve suggested worse. At least this one was tolerable.

And it’s been a while since they’d watched a movie together.  

“Get everything set up, Pinky,” Brain ordered. “I’ll join you when I’m finished with my own tasks.”

Pinky saluted and scampered into the kitchen, grabbing the rose he’d held in his Suavo persona along the way. He sang at the top of his lungs, though he’d forgotten most of the actual words and replaced them with a series of narfs and portmanteaus. Once Pinky was sufficiently distracted, Brain moved his notepad and pen over to the TV, then laid the paper rose over it.

He heard the crinkle of a bag followed by the sound of M&M’s being poured into a bowl. Pinky would be back any minute.

Brain knocked his head against the side of a wall.

Calm yourself. Pinky believes pebbles are precious gifts. You’ll be fine. Probably.

Slowly, he approached the drawer where he’d kept his hidden present. Sifting through several sheets of paper covered with complex formulas he’d deliberately placed in there to ward off Pinky, he found the sunflower pen he’d carefully hidden towards the back.

It wasn’t exactly…traditional for a Valentine’s gift. Simple blue ink with a green body and tipped with a bright yellow sunflower.

But it was bright. And colorful. Like Pinky.

More importantly, it was practical.

Brain’s ears twitched, and he heard the whirring of the VCR as Pinky popped in the movie. Brain debated leaving the pen and presenting it after the movie, but he didn’t want to procrastinate either. Otherwise it would be impossible to enjoy their activity.

Well, he could just drop it in Pinky’s lap. And snatch up some popcorn so his actions wouldn’t be too conspicuous. He climbed out of the drawer, holding the pen behind his back.

A preview for The Little Mermaid began to play. Pinky was enraptured by the animated marine animals. He seemed so happy.

Maybe he should reconsider. Valentine items would be discounted next week. He could just hold off and give a belated…what was he thinking? Valentine’s was just another day to turn profit!

The paper rose was sitting right there. No…Valentine’s meant something to Pinky. Like Christmas.

“Goody, you’re back, Brain!” Pinky cheered, stuffing two pink M&M’s into his mouth. The large bowl beside him was overflowing with chocolate. “It’s not raining inside, but I love your parasol! Where’d you buy it?”

A parasol?

He glanced up at the sunflower. Oh. So there was a resemblance to a parasol, he supposed. If one viewed it at a certain angle, that is.

“It’s a pen. Not a parasol. Take it,” Brain said, holding out the sunflower pen.

Pinky didn’t take it.

Instead, he made a joyful noise and crushed Brain with a flying embrace. Brain dropped the pen in surprise as Pinky’s entire body curled around him, feet off the ground. Brain had to support all his weight, Pinky’s warm fur brushing against his own.

“I love it! Loveitloveitloveit! Thanks, Brain!” Pinky squealed, happy tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

“You’re welcome, Pinky,” Brain murmured as Pinky nuzzled his cheek. “Now get off. I require my lungs. And heart. And my digestive system.”

Pinky didn’t get off until the Disney fanfare to herald the beginning of the movie began to play. Then he quieted down immediately, rolling the sunflower pen so that it rested across his lap.

“…happy Valentine’s Day,” Brain whispered, nibbling on a red M&M.

Pinky smiled back, teeth flecked with bits of chocolate. He shushed Brain, not wanting him to interrupt the opening narration.

As the enchanted rose appeared onscreen, Brain stroked the soft tissue paper of Pinky’s beautiful creation. Then he set it aside and reached for some popcorn.

His world was here. And there was nothing more he wanted.

Fun fact: the original name for this fic was going to be Suavo Valentino, but the current title was a last minute change cause somehow I just wrote a lot about roses.

Another change: The Princess Bride bit was originally a dig at High School Musical and how Disney Channel has bad romance in general, but since that was mid 2000s I changed it so this story could reasonably fit in the 90s.

Suavo’s lines...were interesting. I couldn’t stop laughing at how dumb some of them were though.

Brain’s got it bad here. Save him.

Are the roses corny? Yes. Do I care? Not really. Maybe. Possibly.

[purplecantaloupe]

@lestrudel-scotlandyard :

Hey could you write a Calum one where he is super into y/n but she's Mali's roommate so Calum is hesitant to listen to his heart until he has a drunk chat with Mali about it?

Thank you so much for requesting this and I’m so sorry that it took me so long to get this out. I hope this is what you had in mind!! Love you so much and I hope you enjoy.

**gif is not mine**

Warnings: some swearing, alcohol abuse, no smut really just some foreplay and dirty words ig, lots of fluff

WC: 5484

It was so hard for Calum to sit upright in his chair as he watched you exit the hallway from your bedroom and out to the living room. Tonight was roommate movie night with Mali and Calum asked to join in since the guys were all with their girlfriends tonight which made it that much harder for you and Mali to refuse his company, plus he offered to pay for the snacks so you couldn’t say no. You were still in your bedroom showering and getting dressed when he arrived so when you came out to the living room with damp hair, some spandex shorts, and an oversized sweatshirt that Calum graciously let you borrow a while ago after a drunk night in the pool that the lot of you shared needless to say, Calum was a little taken aback.

-

Calum could remember that night so vividly (despite the amount of booze in his system). You had worn only but the tiniest bathing suit he’d ever seen. It was when you and his sister had first moved in together and she had told you that her brother had a house with a pool and you didn’t hesitate to buy a cute dark blue bikini that would compliment your skin perfectly and also keep you modest. It was the first time you and he had met, he had the guys over with their respective partners, Michael doing his DJ bit (as always Calum would help out a little bit with the setting up) and once you and his sister arrived he only saw you. His brain could only describe you as the angel that had fallen from heaven and into his backyard. You unknowingly wore his favorite color and you were oblivious to the fact that your breasts were spilling out of the top just a bit. Nobody truly noticed except for Calum. Mali-Koa introduced you to everyone, sharing handshakes and hugs and the smile never leaving your face and shining a light across his dim patio. Calum came up to you introducing himself as the bassist in the band and the little brother of your roommate, making you giggle and nod your head as you introduced yourself as well. He could still see your smile in his head, hearing that melody of your giggle and wanting everything in his power to never let that smile leave your face; Calum wanted to always be the reason that you were smiling. No matter how much he wished that he could just make you happy and treat you the way that a lady should be treated he knew deep down that to you, he would always be your roommate’s little brother.

The rest of the night at Calum’s house was spent with you and the girls floating in the pool, drinking booze and ultimately Calum watching you keep the party bright and lively; dancing to Michael’s beats and your contagious laugh filling into the moments between the songs which only made Calum want to watch you even more throughout the night. Once the party was moved inside due to the breeze and decrease in temperature of the water, you rinsed off with the other girls outside before wrapping your towel around yourself and made your way over to your clothes you had left on a lawn chair. You picked your clothes up and while feeling the denseness of them you let out a sigh as pool water dropped through your fingers. You had asked Mali if she brought any extra clothes to which she frowned and shook her head.

“Maybe Calum will let you borrow some?” She looks at you with the concerned frown still on her face.

“Oh no I wouldn’t want to be a bother-”

“No bother at all, I’ll show you where to change,” Calum startled you as you turned around, watching him eagerly ascend to what you could only assume as his bedroom and wave a hand for you to follow him. You glance back at Mali and she smiles reassuringly at you then turns to converse with Andy. You follow Calum into his bedroom and see him rifling through his drawers and closet then pulls out a sweatshirt and some sweatpants.

“Here you should stay warm in this; I’ll go wash your clothes for you,” he smiles bashfully, trying to hide his blush as he takes the drenched clothes from you and makes his way to his laundry room. He would never admit to you that he was the one who got your clothes wet, he knows the outcome of his normal get togethers with his bandmates usually go until all hours of the night and maybe the off chance that you would be staying as well; he’d hoped that you would ask him to borrow some clothes, just to be able to talk to you (and see you in his clothes obvs). Knowing that he would never be able to make a move, he decided why not have a little play before the night was over.

Once you changed into his clothes you felt as though you were swimming again due to the size difference. You took a look at yourself in the mirror and let out a scuff of air at your current state as well as your thoughts. A knock at the door startled you a bit, you looked up at the door before slowly opening it. Calum’s jaw went slack and his eyes bugged out but he recovered quickly before you could really notice.

“Everyone is out in the living room, just wanted to let you know,” he says and then clears his throat.

“Thank you for this, I really appreciate it,” you say and wave the oversized arms around and smile.

“No problem,” he smiled and that was it for him, he was a goner for you though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, not even himself really he just thought that this was an innocent brief moment of passion before he found another girl to gawk at. It shouldn’t be that hard, right?

--

Even months after that pool party Calum had to get you out of his head, he couldn’t possibly go for his sister’s roommate. The consequences from his sister as well as the break up could and would set him into a frenzy which is why he’s built a wall over his heart. Calum hasn’t let a girl in, in God knows how long and he refuses to let his guard down after his past relationships, being used for money and fame as well as sex on the off chance the girl he was seeing was trying hard enough. He knew that getting so attached to somebody so close to Mali would result in something detrimental, he didn’t have the time, patience, or mental health to patch himself up again. Calum had to get away from you not only for his sake, but for yours as well. He didn’t want to be the reason that you cried and he couldn’t handle the fact that you would hate him after something he’d done stupidly on a whim.

He had tried to forget about you, he tried with so many other girls, kept getting wasted which would only make it worse to which he would wish you were the one rubbing his back instead of Ashton as he threw up the remnants of acid and liquor from his stomach. Calum even tried meditating and yoga which would result in him rolling over and falling asleep on the floor of his home recording studio dreaming about you, being on top of you, inside of you, anything that his subconscious could come up with. His dreams would result in him trying to find women that looked similar to you and start the process over again.

Once the boys saw that Calum was basically ruining himself, they decided to do something to try to get him with you, since getting him away from the thought of you wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, no matter how much he stated he was ‘trying to forget about you’.

They all decided to have a couples night which hurt Calum in the long run because he knew he’d be the third-wheel and wouldn’t want to be the sob story. Luke slyly reminded him of the up and coming Friday night would also be the roommate movie night that you and Mali-Koa would post about on Instagram, maybe even going live and trying to drunkenly bake some brownies, both of you wearing fuzzy socks, hoodies and a blanket covering your lower halves, until you moved to the kitchen to talk about your love-lives all the while still on live and entertaining your virtual friends.

Calum had watched the lives that you two had done before and it looked like so much fun, not only would he get to be with you but he could spend some time with his sister who he loved oh-so much. He was practically shaking as he asked his sister if he could join your roommate ritual and when she had replied with an, “only if you bring snacks and booze!”

He sighed in relief, already deciding on which snacks he wanted to bring. He stopped by the closest corner store and bought all the snacks that the girls requested along with what he wanted as well, sending a quick text to his sister that he was on his way and headed to your flat.

Once Cal got there he was informed by his sister that you were still in the shower and you'd be down any minute, giving a nod to his sister before making himself a drink, anything that would get him loose, and down it as fast as he could. He hoped that tonight could go as he planned and he could keep his feelings down as much as he could, maybe his blush would be hidden by the alcohol. The amount of liquor that Calum consumed could also be equivalent to that of ‘a fifty-five gallon drum’ but he was still convinced that he needed to be drunk-er just to be able to sit in the same room as you.

After your shower you grabbed an old sweatshirt that you couldn’t be bothered to remember the origin and some bed shorts to stay comfortable while you watch the movies. If you were being honest, you didn’t even remember that Calum was coming over if you had known you would’ve put on some longer pants and now you just feel like you were exposed in front of the only guy that you’d been attracted to since you moved to LA.

His bickering with his sister hadn’t seized since she chose a cheesy/sappy rom-com (that was chosen well over an hour and a half ago) that he audibly groaned at. His groan sent you into overdrive and you had to keep the redness from forming on your cheeks wanting nothing more but to want to hear it again and again. Calum was oblivious to the fact that you even felt the least bit aroused at the sound of his turmoil. You had to stand up, not only to get away from the heat that was radiating off of your crush, but the bickering made you want to pull the nerves from your ears. You made your way to the kitchen, making yourself a margarita that Mali had blended up, taking a sip and sighing, the feeling of the ice cooling your insides.

“You ok?” You hear the husky voice of the one and only. You squeeze your eyes shut tight before you turn around to face him.

In Calum’s eyes you are the most beautiful thing he’d set his eyes on, anyone could see it except that you were blind. The fact that he was your best friend’s brother and nothing more could come from either of you stayed in your mind. Little did he or anybody know for that matter that you had thoughts and dreams of the moment that he would push you up against a wall and take you wherever and whenever: maybe he would tease you a little, wanting to see just how far he could take it before you were writhing under him. You had to pinch your arm to stop the thoughts and to snap back into reality, knowing damn well that he was meer feet away from you but upon seeing him, your naughty thoughts came back faster than Calum could even look away from you. Seeing those dark brown eyes craving to drink you all in, wanting to watch him peel your clothes off to reveal your curves to him; seeing his hands, hands that could gently constrict around your throat the same way they are cradling the neck of a beer bottle, ironic but still not helping.

Clearing your mind of all the filth you grab your half drunk margarita and a second one for Mali then you give him an exaggerated nod before you make your way to the living room to take a seat next to her. Calum followed you after grabbing a new drink of his own before he sat in his original seat.

Calum knew that his blush had to have been evident on his cheeks, he was imagining tearing you apart right there on the couch, the blood was rushing to his cheeks as well as his cock, although he wouldn’t admit that to you. The shorts you wore were practically invisible to the naked eye and your hair was adorning your face with such grace that he almost could just flip you on your stomach and pull on your loose locks just hear that delicious moan-

After consuming enough tequila that your brain was fuzzed over and your body felt warm you noticed the movie was over and Calum and Mali were arguing over the next movie, typical.

“Mal you chose the last movie! Practically bored me to sleep! Can we please watch something with a little more action?”

“Guys I’m gonna head to bed, I’m feeling too good and your yelling is killing my buzz,” you say interrupting the brother and sister banter.

You stand up only to stumble a bit and giggle at yourself, you didn’t even realize you were that drunk.

“Help her you doof!” Mali-Koa says to her brother and rolls her eyes, equally just as tipsy as you are.

Calum had drank twice as much as both of you combined but he was still comprehensive, he shames himself for drinking so often that his tolerance was so high, he stood to which you just shook your head.

“I got it, I got it. I’m good.” You say and use the wall to guide you to the hallway. He sat back down at your words, watching you warily. You make it to the entrance of the hall, your room seems so far away but you take a breath and start on your drunken journey. Just as you start to waddle your way, guiding yourself with the wall, you feel a hand on your back which startles your drunken state.

“Hey I got you, it’s okay,” Calum says and takes your hand in his and uses the other on your back to guide you into your bedroom. You giggle and lay your head against his chest as he guides you through your corridor. He pulls your blankets down on your bed, still using his arm to hold you steady and he gently helps you lie down in the bed. He pulls the blankets up to your neck, tucking you in and just as he turns to walk back out he hears his name fall from your lips.

“Calum, please stay,” you whisper and move back as far as you can under your covers before patting the bed in front of you, “just for a little bit.” You whisper and smile at him tiredly.

Calums brain is running fast, the wheels turning in his head as he tries to think of a logical explanation as to why he should leave. His brain becomes even more intoxicated just looking at you as you look at him. He curses himself as his drunken brain leads him over to you and lays himself over the comforter. His tall stature leaning over you as he maneuvers himself beside you. You lay your head on his chest as he lays his arm under your head, your hand coming up to run along the valleys of his abdomen and he has to bite his lip from cursing.

Not even three minutes later your breathing evens out and he looks down at you, your eyes shut and your finger paused along his stomach. He gently rolls out from under you, sighing as he lays the faintest of kisses along your hairline.

“Good night, beautiful,” he whispers as he takes one last glance at you before turning your lamp out and shutting your door quietly. He makes his way back to his sister who is watching yet another rom-com and he can’t even be mad, he just cuddled with the only girl he’d ever wanted. Granted, she was drunk out of her mind and doesn’t even understand what happened.. god what was he thinking? This just sent him back so far in the healing process and now he won’t be able to get you out of his head for another year at best. Mali glances at him before looking at the tv then looks back at him.

“You ok?” She asks. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, or maybe it’s his mind finally giving up on trying to hide but he shakes his head. Mali pauses the movie and pats the sofa next to her.

“What’s up?” She asks as he sits, both of them swaying a little in their tipsy state.

He doesn’t even know what to say, ‘I’ve had a crush on your roommate for almost a year now?’ No that wouldn’t sound good coming out. ‘I’ve been thinking a lot about y/n lately and I think I’m in love with her?’ GOD no, he couldn’t say that. His drunk mind takes over.

“I like.. this girl,” he pauses midway through.

Mali nods, silently telling him to continue.

“..and she’s all I can think about. She’s stuck in my head and Mali, I’m scared. I’ve never felt this way about another girl before, she’s different, so… unique, so loving, she cares for everyone and overall just so amazing,” he says and Mali nods.

“Well do you want to go for it? Can you see yourself with her in the future?” She asks, kind of taking advantage of his unfiltered thoughts.

“Mal, I can see us with kids and a house, Duke and a few others running around. The guys and you spending time with us as y/n’s pregnant belly pokes out with our second child. Mali I don’t know what to do,” he says and tears up just the slightest, his voice cracking. He realizes that he just said her name out loud, to his sister, your roommate. His head is spinning.

Mali already knew through her drunken thoughts that he was talking about you but Calum needed to hear it from himself.

“Well I know she likes you too, unless she has eyes for another Calum that I don’t know about,” she jokes. He surprised at his sister’s words,you like him back? He was blind, he had no idea that you felt the same for him. His intoxicated brain is getting too excited. “I think you should go for it,” she states, truth fully laced throughout the whole sentence. He stands up, gaining his land legs before he stalks towards your room. “I didn’t mean right now, but…” Mali’s words get lost in his thoughts as he quietly opens your door, shutting it gently before he sits back down in his original spot.

The weight difference wakes you slightly as well as the hand touching your shoulder. You hum as you feel the hand start to massage your shoulder and trail down your back. Your half dreaming state makes you imagine it’s Calum who is giving you the best post-inebriated massage.

“Mmm don’t stop, Calum,” you mumble into your pillow.

“How did you know it was me?” He giggles continuing to rub your back through your shirt before gently lifting it and rubbing his thumbs up your spine.

You jolt up a bit at his actual voice and you furrow your brows,

“What are you doing in here? What are you doing period?” You ask, hiding your blush in your pillow.

“I wanted to ask you something but I didn’t want to just wake you up and have you give me an answer while you’re grumpy,” he says and chuckles, reminiscing on the few times you’d slept over at his house and woke up annoyed and your hair in disarray.

“What do you have to ask that’s so important that you had to wake me up at two in the morning?” You ask and let out a sigh as he rubs a knot out of your back. He tried to keep his erection calm at your little noises but his mind betrays him as he feels himself growing.

“Well it’s more of a statement than a question,” he says and warily leans down pressing kisses up your back.

Your only logical explanation you could come up with is that you're dreaming, Calum would never do this type of thing, let alone sneak into your room.

“Am I dreaming?” You whimper at his lips on your back, his mind going to other places as he hears your whimper.

“No baby, I’m really here,” he whispers and climbs off from behind you and lays next to you, looking you in the eyes. He takes a piece of hair that has fallen on your face and gently tucks it behind your ear.

“Holy shit,” you whisper and look up at him, reaching your hand out and grip his shoulder, leaving your hand there to keep a grip not only on him, but on reality. He chuckles at your profanity and lays his hand on your shoulder blade, gently pulling your shirt back down before he draws patterns into your back through the fabric.

“I came in here to tell you that I like you and that I want to ask you out on a date,” he whispers, his fingers still rubbing on your back. Your brain is literally spinning from both his confession and the alcohol still present in your body. You feel the sudden urge of the snacks deciding to knock on your throat. You immediately shoot up and move as fast as you can to the bathroom. You kneel at the toilet letting all your undigested food out of your body, Calum rushes in behind you grabbing a hold of your hair and pulls it out of your face.

After throwing up the contents of your stomach, your hand leaning on the toilet seat and your head is laying on your arm as you try to catch your breath. Calum’s hand is rubbing circles on your back as he slides a Dixie cup of water under your head and whispers a small ‘here’ into your ear. You gladly accept and swallow it in one gulp.

“You could’ve just rejected me,” Calum says through the silence.

You smile and bite your lip, “you really just caught me off guard.” You say and giggle softly. Calum stands behind you, walking out of your bedroom which honestly stresses you out a little before he comes back in the room holding three water bottles.

“Here let’s not talk about that right now. Let’s go get you back in bed and drink some water,” he says which melts your heart down to the core. He helps you stand up and warily let’s go of you to let you brush your teeth. He slowly walks alongside of you, back to your bed before he covers you up. After satisfied he hands you a water bottle and kneels next to you for a second, taking your hand in his before he sighs, “I know that I would’ve somehow done something stupid to lose you, I just didn’t realize it’d be before you even could verbally reject me,” he says and bites the inside of his lip.

“What the fuck are you talking about? Calum I didn’t even get to respond.” You say and squeeze his hand. “Why don’t you just lay down and we can talk? Your knees are shaking,” you say and he looks down confused, his body still as a board, “made you look,” you joke, lightening the whole mode of the room instantly. He lays his head against your intertwined hands and chuckles.

“You got me,” he whispers. You never fail to lighten any mood.

“But seriously come lay down,” you say and nod your head at your bed. He let’s go of your hand and sighs walking around your bed and crawls in behind you on top of your blankets. Once he lays down you roll over and look at him through the moonlight cascading through your window, shadowing his features. “I like you too,” you whisper and run your finger down his cheek. “My answer is yes,” you add and the smile stretches across his face.

“Really? Oh my god Mali told me I should’ve waited and I thought I totally screwed up when you ran away,” he says and sighs, taking your hand in his once again.

“Wait Mali is behind this?” You say and look up at him.

“No I told her that I like you and she told me I should go for it.” He replies and rubs his thumb across your knuckles.

“Well I guess I can’t be mad at her,” you say and bite your lip which makes Calum’s erection grow back.

He doesn’t want to rush this relationship like he has in the past so he has to find an escape before he truly fucks up.

“I think I should better go now, you should get some sleep you’ve had an evenful night,” he whispers.

“Wait you were drinking, you shouldn’t drive.. stay,” you say, fully awake now and you couldn’t let him get away so soon.

He sighs jokingly, “if you insist,” he says tilting his head and chuckles, climbing underneath your blankets along with you. His thoughts focusing on breathing instead of his dick. You lean into him and lay your head on his bicep, he wraps his arms around you almost in a protective way. “Good night, beautiful,” he whispers, shutting his eyes.

Calum finally felt safe.

-

Waking up next to Calum was alarming at first, you didn’t quite remember last night’s interaction. As you slowly opened your eyes you turned and he was sound asleep, small breaths of air left his mouth as he dreamt.

Once you got out of his light grip, you make your way down the hall to the kitchen and start up some eggs and pancakes for the residents of the house. Mali had joined you and you spilled everything that you could remember from last night to her and she listened intently.

“He told me he was going to leave but I knew he was drinking—“ before you could let her know he’d spent the night Calum made an appearance in the doorway, hair sticking up in all different ways and his sister gawked.

“I didn’t realize how awkward this’d be,” she says, “well I’ll leave you two to it, thanks for breakfast, babe,” she side hugs you before she makes her way back to her bedroom.

You smile up at Calum, “good morning,” you say and giggle at his sleepy state. He makes his way over to you and wraps his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss onto your forehead. You smile and bring your hands up, smoothing his hair down a bit.

“Mornin’,” he replies and leans into your touch.

“I made you some breakfast,” you say and tilt your head toward the pans and plates of pancakes and eggs. He looks over the top of your head and smiles.

“Thank you, love,” he smiles and squeezes your hips in affection, your insides melt. He makes his way over to make himself a plate before sitting down with you as you sip your coffee at the dining table. “What’s on your mind?” His voice husky as he eats.

“Lots.” You simply reply.

“What about?” He swallows and takes a sip of his coffee as well.

“Where you want to take me on a date, what I should wear, how bad I want to take a shower, how bad I want you to join me but I think that’s also moving too fast,” he chuckles, cutting your rambling short.

“Well the date is a surprise, you should wear something comfy, I think you should take a shower and I’d love to join you as well,” he says, “as soon as I finish this,” he motions to his almost finished plate. You blush.

“Well I already ate so I’m going to go start up the shower, you can join whenever you’re done,” he nods as you stand and make your way to the en suite bathroom. While you start bathing, Calum texts his group chat with the boys and announces that he finally made a move to which they all had individual compliments and congratulations to share with him. He puts his plate in the sink after thanking his friends and he makes his way to your bedroom. Hearing the shower running, he takes his clothes off, climbing in behind you and wraps his arms around your waist.

You jump as you wash your face, eyes closed as you lean into the water. He runs his hands up your front, both hands cupping breasts as he kisses your neck, back pressed against his front. You lean away from the water and lay your head against his collarbone.

“I've been waiting so long for this,” he whispers and presses a kiss to your shoulder, littering your clavicle. He trails up to your neck and presses a kiss into your cheek then slowly turns you around and lays a kiss at the corner of your mouth. You have to refrain your eyes from adverting to look down at him, that was the biggest struggle you’d faced, besides not wanting to jump his bones right then and there. “Am I rushing you? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He whispers, his hands making their way to your lower back.

You shake your head, “kiss me,” you whisper, reaching your arms up and around his neck to pull him down to your level. He presses his lips against yours in the most tender and soft kiss. Your lips mold together, he bites your bottom lip and runs his hands down your backside gripping your asscheeks in his hands, both actions making you gasp. He takes the opportunity to swirl his tongue around yours, both dancing for dominance. He runs his hands down your thighs and lifts you up into the air easily, pressing your back against the cold tile wall of your shower. He trails his mouth down your neck to your chest, leaving a lovemark right on your sternum keeping in mind that you had work on Monday and he didn’t want the kids to ask why you had a bruise on your neck. Your moans could be heard but drowned out by the water hitting the floor. He pulls his mouth away from the forming purple mark on your chest and looks up into your eyes.

“I have to stop, I don’t want to ruin this before it even starts,” he drops your legs back onto the floor and runs his finger tips up your sides, making you shiver. “But god dammit I don’t want to stop,” he chuckles and you giggle breathless. “I’ve just waited so long for this.”

You nod, “me too,” you admit, your eyes flashing up to his, you both share a look of lust. “All good things take time,” you nod, still looking into his eyes, he nods as well.

You both finish showering and make your way to your bedroom after drying off, lending him a toothbrush and a pair of your oversized sweats.

“Sorry I don’t have another pair of underwear for you, but I’ll go wash this shirt I wore last night and you can wear that,” you say and he shakes his head.

“It’s okay, I’ll wear it now,” he smiles and slides it over his head. “It smells like you,” he tries but fails to hide his smile by biting his lip. You smile as well.

He silently thanks himself for getting her clothes wet the first time they met.