#throw a fit about how i ruined christmas if i’m not there. they’re going to say me and my gf ruined christmas regardless bc they do every ye

[insert-game]

anyone else about 1 more wrong thing happening from exploding

[leighsartworks216]

Christmas Suprises

Zayne x AFAB!Reader

When I say I don't enjoy pregnancy fics or proposal fics, I NEED you to believe me cuz WHY did this fester in my brain until I put it down in a doc

Warnings: Christmas, fluff, domestic fluff, unplanned pregnancy, marriage proposal, crying, literal sleeping together, cuddling, anxiety

Word Count: 2,514

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First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

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You stare down at the little white stick, mouth falling open in shock. You can’t even hear the grating alarm of your phone going off anymore, or the eager knocking on the bathroom door. It’s like your mind hasn’t caught up to your body yet. You don’t think about reaching out and opening the door; your body just does it.

“Well?” Tara asks excitedly. “Yes or no?”

The world around you comes back into focus. You blindly paw at your phone screen to hit the button to shut up its alarm. You think your hand is shaking when you look up at your friend.

“It says… I’m pregnant.”

She squeals and throws her arms around your neck, bouncing on her feet, bursting with joy. “Congratulations! Oh, I’m so happy for you!”

You cling onto her. She doesn’t seem to mind, even as you wipe your eyes over her shoulder and sniffle by her ear.

You can’t believe it. You’re actually pregnant. You really, really are. You’re going to have a baby. You’re going to have a baby.

Tara pulls away with a gasp. “How are you gonna tell him?” she asks conspiratorially.

“God, I have no idea.” You stare at the two pink lines on the stick. Pregnant. “He doesn’t even know I’m late for my period, Tara. How am I-?”

“Oh, oh, I know! Tell him on Christmas!”

“On Christmas? Are you sure? I mean, what if he doesn’t want kids? We’ve never talked about it before.” You scoff, rubbing your eyes at the mounting worry welling up within you. It swirls around in your stomach, growing larger and larger as your panic bleeds into it. “We’re not even married! What’re his parents going to think? Shit, what about his career?!” You grab Tara’s shoulders, jostling her slightly with the force. “What if his reputation is ruined because he had a kid without being married?!”

Tara grabs your shoulders in turn, rubbing them sympathetically. “Calm down first, okay? You don’t have to do my idea, but I think you’re overthinking this.”

You sigh. Slowly, you let go of her. “No, no, you’re right. I- I’ll think about it. Thank you for helping me out, Tara.”

“Of course! Just keep me updated, okay?” She giggles. “I need to know how he reacts!”

Even as you’re led to her couch and offered a soothing cup of tea, the panic doesn’t untwist from your guts.

-

You’re awake first. This doesn’t usually happen, but it’s only fitting that the anxiety that kept you from falling asleep easily last night also wakes you up earlier than needed. You study Zayne’s face in the dim moonlight.

He looks utterly at peace. There’s no tension in his brow. His eyes are relaxed, fluttering under his eyelids to watch a dream play out. Lips slightly parted with soft breaths.

His parents called yesterday, wishing they could be here and apologizing for their gifts being sent late due to the inclement weather where they’re stationed. Zayne always got this childlike sweetness to his expression whenever they were involved, smiling without restraint and allowing himself to be more outwardly affectionate. You’d seen it before when you recorded a video of him on his birthday to send to his parents, but seeing it now, picturing that same happiness on his face with his own child… He’d caught you staring at one point. You’d smiled and tried to play it off. You’re not sure he bought it, but he didn’t say anything about it after the call ended.

You really can’t sleep now. Your heart is beating too fast, tight in your chest with worry. You slowly roll onto your back. The white ceiling stares down at you. You stare right back, chewing mindlessly on your bottom lip.

Time passes by in a blur. You’re not sure how much has gone by when a finger carefully frees your lip from your teeth’s assault. You turn your head to see a freshly-woken Zayne. His hand falls to rest on the bed between you.

“What has you so worried?” His voice has a quiet rasp to it in the morning, especially when he whispers. You could listen to it for hours.

You shift to lay on your side, facing him once again. You distract yourself by playing with his fingers. “Nothing,” you lie with a placating smile. “I’m just hoping you’ll like the gifts I got you.”

He hums, but he doesn’t say anything for a minute. Instead, he captures your restless hand and brings it to his lips. Those pretty hazel green eyes of his close with the kiss he places on your knuckles. “I’m sure you chose the best gifts,” he says. “You know me too well to get me something I wouldn’t like.”

“True…”

He guides your hand to rest on his face. He’s warm from sleep, the barest hint of stubble starting to come in along his jaw.

“Can we open the gifts first today?” He opens his eyes to look at you again. You can feel the way he studies you. You try not to falter as you add, “I know we usually have breakfast first, but…”

A flicker of confusion, gone in a flash. “Of course. But it’s still early. You should try to get some more sleep.”

Maybe he can sense the exhaustion underneath your anxiety, or maybe he can see the bags under your eyes in the dim light. Or maybe he just knows you better than you think he does.

He reaches under the blankets to grab your hip, drawing you toward him like he has on so many restless nights before. You’re powerless to refuse the silent request. So you scoot closer, forming yourself to fit perfectly against his chest. He slips his arm under your head, letting you use his bicep as a pillow. You tuck your head under his chin and press your face against his neck.

Arms wrapped around each other, holding one another close before the breaking dawn of Christmas Day. He traces soothing shapes against your spine. You count his heartbeat as it thumbs by your ear. Somehow, you’re able to find sleep again.

-

Wrapping paper - neatly undone or carelessly torn - sit in a pile on the floor. Various gifts sit stacked or folded in neat piles on the coffee table, organized by Zayne. There aren’t many gifts in all. Really, you both had most everything you could ever wish for.

But now it’s time for the final gift. You jump up from the couch with a smile. “I have one more gift. Lemme go grab it.”

He shoots you a look. “And why isn’t it under the tree?” he teases.

You wish that simple question didn’t pour gasoline into the firepit of anxiety in your stomach. You wave him off, covering up your uncertainty with playfulness. “It was too important to go under there. I’ll only be a second.”

He hums, but doesn’t say anything more about it, watching silently as you retreat back into the bedroom. You pull the present out from your nightstand drawer. Is it the most secure place to keep something? Well, there’s nothing else really in there; nothing you’d need on a daily basis, anyway. And Zayne would never go in here without your permission. So, you trusted it more than your other idea of hiding it in your jacket pocket.

You hold the box tightly to your chest. God, please, please, please, let this go well.

You almost want to curse Tara for convincing you to go through with this. If the news ends up ruining Christmas and your relationship with Zayne, you’re going to unleash hellfire down on her.

With one last, steadying breath, you head back out to the living room.

Zayne is still waiting patiently, taking this opportunity to look at the cases of the games you got him. He sets them back down when you round the couch and sit down beside him once more. You hope he doesn’t notice your hands shaking when you pass it over.

The gift is small and thin, rectangular and lightweight, he turns it over to find where you’ve taped the decorative paper down to begin unwrapping it. You readjust to sit on your feet with your knees to your chest. Your body screams for you to hide, to escape all the possible outcomes of this situation you’ve forced yourself into. But you want to watch. You need to see his reaction.

He pauses in his unwrapping to look at you. “Are you alright?” he asks, frowning as he wraps a hand loosely around your ankle to rub soothing circles into the jutting bone there.

You force a smile you hope isn’t as strained as it feels and nod. “I’m okay,” you lie. You nod toward the present. “Open it.”

He doesn’t let go right away. You think for a moment he may not even continue. But, thankfully, he pulls away to finish removing the paper. He drops it onto the pile with the rest.

The box itself is a blank white. There are no marks, no labels, no details of any kind that could give away what lay inside.

You hug your legs to yourself. You can’t bear to look away from his face, not even to watch as he unfolds the tab at one end and slides the little stick out. It’s ultimately more rewarding, you think, to see the way his eyes widen ever so slightly. To see him lean forward as he flips the test over in order to read the results. To see the way his mouth falls open with a quiet breath.

He turns his whole body to face you. “You’re pregnant…?”

You nod shyly. “Are you upset?”

He sets the test on the table quickly, but as if it’s the most fragile thing in the world, before holding your face in both of his hands. “Why would I be upset?”

God, he looks at you so earnestly, so tenderly, you’re tearing up before you can stop yourself. Choking up over words that have suffocated you since you were hiding away in Tara’s bathroom.

“‘Cause we never talked about it before and-” A whimpering sob cuts through your words. You inhale shakily. “And we’re not even married or anything, and your job-”

“Hey, shhh.” He brushes away your tears with his thumbs. He leans forward to brush a soft kiss to your forehead, ducking down to stay close to you as he meets your eyes once more. “I have one last present for you, too,” he whispers. “Can I go get it?”

You sniffle and wipe your face with your sweater sleeve. You probably look like such a mess; you can’t seem to get the tears to stop now that they’ve started. “Why isn’t it under the tree?” you tease.

He smiles. “It was too special. Wait here, okay?”

You nod. He presses another kiss to your head before he gets up and disappears down the hall.

While he’s gone, you try to collect yourself. You lower your knees, wipe your eyes until they burn from the friction, and try to even your breathing. Right now, each breath comes in little hiccups, jittery and broken up and unproductive. You haven’t improved much by the time he gets back.

He sits down close to you, wrapping a warm arm around your shoulders to pull you even closer into his side. A small velveteen box rests in his hand. He offers it to you. “I didn’t expect to be giving it to you today,” he admits bashfully, resting his cheek against your head. “But I can’t think of a better time than right now.”

You don’t have to open it to know what’s inside. All the fear that suffocated you for the last couple weeks goes up in a puff of smoke. Instead, it’s like a soothing orb of light has taken its place, healing the burns left behind and filling you with immense happiness. You turn your body into his and wrap your arms tightly around him. He rubs his thumb methodically over your shoulder.

“Should we start talking about children now?” He kisses your head. “Assuming you agree to my proposal.”

A choked, relieved laugh jostles out from your chest. Your tears get on his shirt as you nod stupidly against him. “Of course I agree!” You pull away just enough to meet his eyes. “You’re really okay with this? You… want kids with me?”

He smiles warmly, openly, as if his parents have just called and he’s already given them the news of your engagement. “I couldn’t imagine a better partner to raise a family with.” He brushes the back of his fingers across your cheek, still holding the ring box. “Are you okay with it?” he asks softly, brows pinching together slightly and eyes sharpening. “We never did talk about it. Are you comfortable with carrying a child to term?”

“It’s scary,” you admit. “But… I want this. I want a family, with you.” Your smile feels sure and solid as you whisper, “I love you.”

The seriousness in his expression fades away, replaced with contented joy. This conversation isn’t over, not by a long shot. You know there are still so many things to ask about. Questions about your future together. But they can wait a few more hours.

He sets the ring aside, right next to the pregnancy test. Both hands free, he pulls you into a secure hug, head lowered to rest on your shoulder, cheek to cheek with you. He absolutely envelops you. All you can see, feel and hear is Zayne.

He presses a kiss to the exposed skin of your neck. It’s not feverish and seeking. It’s soft, reverent, grateful. It pours out every emotion that wells up inside of him that can’t seem to fully escape. “I love you, too,” he whispers back.

You slide a hand along his back until you can tangle your fingers in the soft hair at the back of his head. He releases a shuddering breath, heavy with the relief that this is real.

Struck with an idea, you drag your other hand from his back down his arm, gently coaxing him to let go of you. Even in his confusion, he does what you want, slipping his hand from around your body. You guide it to rest over your belly, holding it there with your own. He buries his face further into your neck with a shaky sigh. “How long have you known?”

“If I tell you, you’re going to go into Dr. Zayne mode,” you tease. You press a sweet kiss beside his ear where you can reach.

You feel the grin that curves his lips. “Alright,” he relents quietly. “I’ll stay in fiancé Zayne mode for a bit longer.”

You release his hair in favor of wrapping your arm around his upper back, squeezing him closer, as if such a thing is even possible with how you’re already holding one another. “I’d like that.”

He squeezes you gently in return. “Me, too.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi

[dreamescapeswriting]

A Night To Remember ~ Bang Chan [Request]

WORD COUNT: 6.7K

GENRE: Angst with a happy ending

PAIRING: Bang Chan x Nurse!Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Mentions of self deprecation, I hope this is okay I know you asked for an idol to say something but bissshhhh I’m a jyp nation stan I would rip my own heart out, so I hope this is okay!!!

As a nurse, you were used to going to different gala events occasionally throughout the year. It was one thing medical school hadn't prepared you for, meeting everyone that technically paid your wages. Your boss would throw them so that the benefactors of the hospital that you worked in could get to know the people their money was going to. The hospital also through functions in order to raise money for other things benefactors couldn't help with. None of the events you'd been to was as extravagant as the gala that JYP was hosting for a charity event but it was still a gala nonetheless. The gala was there to raise money for different charities, people could bid on different things like a night with different Idols. A song was written by a specific idol if they bid high enough on it and so on and so forth. Chan had told you about this event months ago wanting to mentally prepare you for the night and allow you to get a dress in time and he was excited about it as well. When he was a trainee he'd helped out at the Gala's before but he'd never gotten to attend one until now which made you all the more nervous about what you looked like since you were his plus one. 

"Are you sure this is okay?" You asked your best friend - Kayla - through the webcam as you ran your hands down the fabric of your dress waiting anxiously for her opinion, she'd been with you when you bought it but it didn't mean she liked it. The dress was perfect for this kind of event but that didn't make you feel any less insecure about it all, you were going to be surrounded by insanely beautiful people. All of them prettier than the next, not to mention how fit they were so it was safe to say you felt like you were going to stick out like a sore thumb. Your friend shook her head at you taking in the sight of the light sky blue tulle, v-neck gown with its A-line silhouette dress, it was breathtaking to see you in it again. The sleeveless dress showing off your arms perfectly and the applique embellishment made it look fancy but not too fancy.

"Y/n I told you when you bought it how nice it was-" You cut her off as soon as she said the word nice, to you that meant it wasn't nice at all.

"Yes! Nice! I don't want nice, I have to look great. C-Chan is going to be surrounded by all of these beautiful people and if I don't match up I'm going to-" You stopped talking when you heard the front door to your apartment open and close followed by the sounds of Chan coming in from work. Kayla smirked as soon as she saw the look on your face, she knew that meant Chan was home and he hadn't seen what you were wearing yet so you had to prepare yourself for it.

"Go, you look fabulous." She ushered you off the call as she shook her head at you before hanging up. No matter what she said to you she knew there was nothing she could say to make you feel less insecure about it.

"Chris?" You called out down the stairs as you heard him moving around, probably putting everything from work away before coming up to you. You were looking around the corner of the stairs as you hid your body so he couldn't see you,

"Yeah?" His head peered around the corner of the staircase and you smiled at him happily. It felt good to see his big eye staring back at you after not seeing him all day. As soon as he saw the way you were hiding your body he knew what you were doing and chuckled to himself softly, 

"Are you in the dress? The dress you've been hiding from me for the last month and a half?" He smirked as soon as he saw you nodding your head and practically began to sprint up the staircase to come and see you. He'd been dying to see you in it since the moment you told him you found the perfect outfit you squealed hiding in the bedroom again. The main reason you'd hidden the dress from Chan was that you wanted it to be a surprise for him to see on the night that and you were nervous about what he would think of it. The bedroom door swung open and Chan stood there for a second just taking in the sight of you. 

"Babe..." He breathed out as soon as he saw you standing there, you were doing your best to look as good as possible since you weren't dolled up yet or had the finished look on.

"I-I'm not finished yet, I still have to put on my makeup and do my hair but then I'll be ready by the time you are." You reassured him as you did a small turn in the dress giving him a full look at the dress. Chan's mouth was hanging open just a little as he continued to take in every angle of the dress you were wearing, struggling to find the right words to say as he stared at you. For someone who often wrote songs, he was finding it hard to speak at the minute which made you more nervous about his thoughts on it all.

"G-Go shower," You giggled as he continued to stare, you pushed him into the bathroom before sitting down at the vanity in your shared bedroom staring at yourself in the mirror. Trying not to let your insecure mind take over and run wild with thoughts you knew couldn't be true. He hates what you're wearing you know. Did you see the look on his face? He's never been more disgusted by you then he is right now and he's going to be so embarrassed at the party tonight. You look awful.

As you got ready your mind kept lingering back to the look he'd given you when he first saw you in the gown made you anxious about it, you couldn't quite read what it meant. The thoughts in your head continued to race about how awful you look and then going over the look on Chan's face. Overanalysing every last interaction you had with him before he went into the shower. You couldn't decide if it was a good or a bad stare that he'd been giving you, then the way his voice sounded when he called you "babe..." It felt as though he was embarrassed about what you were wearing and didn't know how to tell you. 

"Y/n?" Chan called out for the third time in a row as he tried to gain your attention but you were lost in your own space, you turned to look over your shoulder at Chan who was fully dressed in his tux, struggling to do up the cuff links on his shirt.

"Help?" He whimpered out as he continued to struggle with them, you got up without a word and buttoned up the cuff links which were shaped as the doodle he always drew. You'd gotten them custom made for Christmas last year never thinking he would wear them but as a small gag gift. 

"You're in your own world again, what's going on in that gorgeous brain of yours?" Chan questioned when he noticed you hadn't spoken in a while, you shook your head giving him the biggest convincing smile you could manage not wanting to ruin the evening with your head. 

"Nothing. Can you do my choker up for me?" You slid the small diamond choker into his hands and he turned you around, doing up the small necklace before he placed a soft and gentle kiss on the back of your neck. 

"We'll be late, come on," He tapped your shoulder softly as he headed out of the bedroom and down the staircase, the car that was picking you up for the night was waiting outside with the rest of the boys and their dates inside. Thoughts came rushing back to you as you thought about how great they were all going to look, all of them slimmer than you and probably more beautiful too. You'd only met Changbin's date before and never the rest, 

"Baby? Come on, they're waiting." Chan rushed you as he saw you standing still at the door he was already near the car when he noticed you weren't behind him. He frowned to himself before going back to your side and linking your arms together so you didn't have to walk alone. 

"I don't want to be late, I have some last-minute things to set up." He mumbled into your ear pressing a soft kiss against your head as he walked with you towards the car opening the door so you could get in beside Felix and his date who was smiling and introducing herself but all you could see was how gorgeous she looked in comparison to you.

"Y/n," You whispered as she reached out to shake your hand, then you began introducing yourself to everyone else the boys were with and went back to sitting in silence. Your mind kicking you in the head for not dressing up more. All of them looked expensive tonight and fully glammed out compared to you, you were beginning to feel like you were underdressed of the occasion. 

"I had my makeup and hair done by one of the stylists, Hannie arranged it all for me. Who did yours?" Jisung's date questioned you as she looked at you, you'd already forgotten her name after being in the car for five minutes which you felt bad about but couldn't help. 

"O-oh I did it, I did my own hair and makeup," You said proudly as you smiled at her but the look on her face wasn't one of being impressed she just glanced you up and down while nodding and humming to herself. 

"It's...lovely, you look good." Good. You could tell by the way she said the word that she didn't mean it at all. Maybe that's what they were all thinking, you sank back against the seat as you felt more eyes on you but you tried to ignore it turning to look at your boyfriend but he was busy. Chan was lost in conversation with Changbin about something they were auctioning off so you couldn't drop into a conversation with him about anything so you were forced to let your brain overthink once again. Look at how much better they look, far more expensive than this piece of fabric you're wearing and look at Chan. Not even paying attention to you, instead, he's talking to Changbin and staring at Lila, Lila and Changbin look cute together. Your dress is tacky. Your makeup is awful, you saw the way they all looked at you, you know it's true. 

Your mind continued to go on throughout the rest of the journey making you imagine how great the others were going to turn out in the press photos while yours wouldn't look good at all. As you went to get out of the car Chan's hand on your wrist stopped you,

"Why are we not getting out?" You asked softly as he stopped you from getting out after the rest of them had already left, he reached across and shut the door behind them.

"I have something to do first," He mumbled as he tapped on the glass that separated the driver from the rest of the limo, you frowned at him as the car began to move you stared out of the window. The limo was moving around the back of the building until you reached a back entrance to the Four Season's hotel away from where every person and camera could potentially see you together. This is what it used to be like when you first started dating, taking back entrances and avoiding being spotted together but that was over now. Your relationship had been out for a year and most of STAY loved you and how happy you seemed to make Chan.

"Come on," He took your hand in his as he hurried you into the building after getting out of the car, you picked up the bottom of your dress not wanting to stand in any of the puddles that were in the back ally behind the hotel. 

"Why are we going through the back?" You questioned laughing softly thinking it was just like old times but Chan didn't seem to laugh.

"I have something to do, go and get a drink at the bar." He told you as he walked you into a small room where a group of people were all standing around and waiting, one man on the bar who looked bored. It didn't look like they were apart of the JYP gala so you turned to check if Chan had the right room,

"Chan?" You called out but he was already out of the room before you had a chance to say anything to him the door was already shut in your face and an elderly lady smiled as she walked over to you. 

"You look very beautiful dear," You smiled back at her, thanking her as you looked around the room trying to figure out why you were left back here while Chan walked off to do whatever it was he was doing. 

"Are you here for the charity gala?" You questioned kindly as you both walked over to the bar to get a drink together, you held onto her arm being careful she didn't fall and break a hip. 

An hour later Chan still hadn't come back to see you and the elderly lady you'd been talking with was taken away and then slowly one by one the room began to empty until it was just you sitting at a table alone. Even the man that had been serving at the bar left to go and do something else. You'd called and text Chan over 12 times asking what was happening but there was no response from him, 

"If he didn't want me to come why invite me?" You mumbled to yourself as you pushed your phone back into your bag trying not to let your brain overwork itself. Playing around with one of the coasters as you tried to entertain yourself for a while

"Y/n?" You dropped the coaster and turned around when you heard a familiar voice call out your name, standing by the door was Brian, Young K, from day6. He frowned when he saw you sitting alone at the table when not too long ago he'd just passed by Chan who was in the main function room alone. He glanced inside of the room wondering why you were in there alone thinking maybe you'd had a fight or you were just trying to get some air.

"Why are you in here?" He nodded for you to come out so you followed him out and into the hallway immediately not wanting to be cramped up in there all night. 

"Chan said he had something to do and to wait for him," You felt a pit begin to grow in the bottom of your stomach as you read the look across Young K's face. It was clear he was trying to come up with some kind of lie to tell you, 

"I just saw him, he told me to come and get you, come on." You could tell it was a lie but you went along with it anyway not wanting to throw a wrench in his evening. You just followed Brian out into the main area and gasping as you looked around at everything in the room, it was more impressive than you could have imagined. The entire hall looked incredible, it was covered in expensive-looking decorations, white table cloths everywhere and everyone looked like they belonged there in huge dresses, ball gowns and suits. Making you feel more out of place than before since you were only in a simple dress for this kind of thing, 

"He's over here," You followed behind Brian who was trying to push through the crowds of people everyone talking over one another as they tried to hear each other over the music. 

"Chan, I brought Y/n, like you asked me too." The tone of voice from Brian made it clear that Chan hadn't asked him to come and get you at all and was trying to make Chan go along with it. You came out from standing behind Brian and smiled at Chan who was standing with Sana and Mina both of them looking stunning in their dresses. Each of them wearing white princess silhouette gowns with matching necklaces around their necks. They looked amazing but what else was new? They always looked breathtakingly beautiful.

"Hi babe, thanks Brian I owe you one." The two of them exchanged looks and you stared down at the ground trying not to feel self-conscious in front of the two most attractive girls you knew in the building.

"You guys look insanely beautiful," You complimented when you finally got the courage to speak to them, Sana went to thank you when Chan shook his head at you, 

"Babe don't. Don't be weird," Your chest tensed as your heart clenched in on itself on what Chan had said to you so you went back to staring at the floor and not wanting to say anything to them in case Chan said it was weird again.  

"Alone again?" Brian chuckled as he came up behind you at the bar, you smiled weakly at him as you glanced over at Chan who was still standing with Mina and Sana as they engaged in conversation again. Since you'd joint them it had been an awkward and dulling silence but the moment you left them it was back to talking with one another.

"Any idea why they're in matching necklaces and almost identical outfits?" Brian looked back over at the girls and then pointed out the rest of the twice members that were in the same kind of outfits, 

"They're being auctioned off to other idols and celebrities for a day out. Did Chan not tell you any of this?" You shook your head as you glanced around the room at everyone,

"He told me there would be auctions but not what was up for auction," You shrugged your shoulders passing it off as something Chan forgot to mention to you, 

"Chan and Changbin have produced some songs that are up for grabs, the boys are up for auction as well as me-" He flashed the number that was on his tie '345' and then smiled as he went back to explaining. 

"People will get the chance to bid on us for days out, meals we'll pay for and such. All the money going to the charities of tonight's event." As he explained everything the drinks you'd ordered were placed down in front of you and He paid for the drinks before you could making you sigh at him you hated whenever someone would pay for you.

"Gotta be quicker than that to pay," He nudged you playfully as he helped you carry the drinks over to Chan who was watching you both closely wondering what it was you were talking about. 

"You should bid on me tonight, I've seen who wants to and I would much rather you have me for a day than someone them." He teased placing the drinks down onto the table while Chan eyed you up carefully again as he tried to make out what was making you laugh. 

"What's so funny?" He questioned when he heard your small giggle leave your throat, 

"Brian wanting me to bid on him-" You tried to explain but Chan cut you off quickly,

"Young K." Chan corrected you as he heard you call him Brian but Brian didn't mind what he was called, it just for joke purposes when he would yell out that he didn't know who Brian was.

"It's okay Chan, she can call me whatever she wants." Brian tried to laugh it off but it was clear Chan didn't find any of what was happening funny so you stayed silent on the matter and sipped on your drink. 

"Y/n won't be bidding on anything tonight anyway," You frowned as Chan spoke on your behalf and you shook your head you'd made sure to pack your purse for the sole purpose of bidding on things. 

"Why not?" You questioned as you looked to him for an answer, 

"You don't need to." He mumbled as he turned to look at Chanbin who was calling his name from another part of the room. 

"I have to go on stage to be auctioned off. Stay here. Don't go anywhere." His voice was stern so you just obeyed him not wanting to test him when he seemed he was already in a bad mood for whatever reason tonight. You stayed by the table watching over his drinks and the girls as they walked away to go and get ready for their stage time. 

"I have to go as well, cheer up. Bid on whatever you want. Don't let grumpy pants put you in a bad mood." Brian winked at you before leaving to go and join the rest of the guys that were lining up. JYP already standing on the stage clutching a microphone as he announced what was going to happen and how people were supposed to bid on what or who they wanted. Writing down the number of what they wanted on a form and placing their highest bid on the sheet of paper before disclosing it into the boxes at the bars. At the end of the night, the winners would be announced in front of everyone and what they had won. 

"Fuck it." You whispered to yourself going over to the bar again as you began writing down the number and how much you wanted to bid on. 

"Having fun?" You turned to see the same elderly lady from earlier standing at the bar with you and you smiled at her,

"Lots. Are you?" She nodded over at someone in the crowd and told you that her son was being very nice to her after leaving her in the waiting room for so long.  

"Who are you with?" She questioned as she wrote down who she was bidding on before slipping it into the box, 

"My boyfriend, Chan from erm Stray kids." You pointed at Chan who was standing on the stage and she smiled at you rubbing your arms softly,

"Very cute, I can't wait to see the press images of you together. Those are always my favourite, and then the photo booth ones from inside the entrance hall...." Your heart sank as you realised there would be no photographs of you and Chan together tonight and then your head convinced you it was because he hated the way you looked in the dress you were wearing. That being the only explanation for sending you through the back entrance tonight instead of the main one where everyone else had gone and then leaving you in the "waiting room". 

"Y-Yeah, I can't wait to see them." You lied as you excused yourself back to your table to wait for Chan to come back and get his drinks. 

He never went back to the table he was the social butterfly he always was going over to different people in the room and talking with them while he avoided your direction altogether. You didn't blame him though, you loved how much he got along with everyone he met but you just wished he would come and see you for a while.

"Can I clean up for you?" A young waiter asked as he came over to the table, you recognised him as one of the trainees and you shook your head at him.

"No, it's okay. Chan will be over soon." At least you hoped he would be but the longer you stood there the less likely it seemed to be as he kept getting further and further away from you. The moment you saw him getting further away you sighed to yourself,

"A-Actually, just clean it up." You whispered to the trainee before heading in the direction of where the toilet signs were wanting to freshen yourself up a little before you went to ask Chan to go to the photo booth together. You at least wanted something good to come out of tonight. A small photo of you both together to go on your wall back home, it would be cute.

"I mean did you say her dress? Looks like she got it at a discount store," You heard Lila's voice fill the women's bathroom followed by some girly giggles as people followed her into the room. You looked at the door of the toilet booth you were sitting in and bit down on your lip, you were about to leave when they had walked into the room. Mentally thanking yourself for not going out when you wanted to.

"Lila! That's Chan's girlfriend you can't say things like that," You knew that that was Felix's girlfriend trying to defend you but it didn't work since Lila only threw back another comment about you. 

"I'm being nice but not telling her to her face. I mean we all went all out. The least she could have done was dress up nice, why do you think Chan made them go around the back?" She started sniggering to herself and the girls joined in, 

"He doesn't want to be seen with her in that tacky looking dress," She started laughing harder and your heart sank as she confirmed your fears about Chan forcing you to enter through the back entrance.

"I heard he was going to leave her in the waiting room all night with the elderly ones, the only reason she's come out is that Young K found her and felt sorry for her," Tears began to well up in your eyes as you heard them speak about you as though you were nothing. 

"What does she do again?" Jisung's girlfriend asked as she applied lipstick onto her lips passing the colour over to someone else as they all checked themselves out. 

"Apart from clinging onto Chan and live off of his money?" Someone laughed loudly and you rolled your head back against the door wanting nothing more than for them all to leave the room so you could get out in one piece. The back exit of the hotel looking more and more attractive as the seconds ticked by.

"She's a nurse, that's why they're so good together cause they understand how busy the other one gets." Someone you didn't recognise said to them in a softer tone trying to get them to stop being so mean but the rest of the girls all scoffed. 

"Whatever. The least she could have done is tried to look presentable." The doors all shut behind them and you could have sunk down onto the floor in a pool of tears but you stopped yourself, coming out of the stall to look at yourself in the mirror. They were right, why would Chan want you to go around the front when you were dressed like this. You cleaned your hands before heading out into the hall bumping straight into Lila and the girls who all stared at you in horror as they realised you'd heard everything they'd been saying in there and then Lila smirked shrugging her shoulders when you met her gaze. 

"E-Excuse me," You mumbled pushing yourself out of their way and heading towards the main doors wanting to leave when cameras began flashing. The girls all began to laugh as you backed away from the doors going into the main function room to find a way back out. 

"I know, it looks awful. I tried to tell her but I didn't know how to so I just stayed silent." Chan was standing in front of you talking to Jisung and Felix and you felt your heart clench even more than it did when you were trapped in the bathroom. Even your own boyfriend thought you looked awful, everything confirming for you that it was the reason he'd taken you through the back and tried to leave you there for the night. 

"I swear if it wasn't for you guys I wouldn't have come, it's so embarrassing." He let out a breathy chuckle not noticing the look he was getting from Felix when he spotted you behind him but you just walked away in silence keeping your head down as you tried to find the fastest route out of there.

"Y/n? Where are you going their about to announce some of the winners." Brian said as he noticed you heading towards the back door of the room your hand resting on the door as you stopped to speak to him so you didn't seem rude since he'd been the kindest to you all night.

"H-Home, not feeling too great." You lied as you looked at him, Chan watching from behind as he noticed that you were alone with Brian again. Jealously bubbling inside of him as he made his way over to you. Lila and her friends all gathered at the bar to start watching smirking at one another at what was about to unfold in front of them. 

"I'll walk you out, come on." Brian nodded over to the front entrance again and you shook your head fear rising in you at the thought of going out of the main doors. 

"I-I'll go out the back. I wouldn't want to risk embarrassing someone with how awful I look tonight." Brian frowned watching you walk out of the door as he tried to figure out what you meant by all of that.

"Chan what did-" He stopped trying to ask what you meant when Chan stormed out of the room after you, not saying anything to anyone as he just left the venue. 

"Leave me alone," You mumbled to Chan as he tried to convince you to talk to him for the 100th time in a row, you'd gotten into the same cab since he left not long after you and demanded you talk to him but you couldn't. You didn't trust yourself not to cry in front of him in the taxi ride and now you were home all you wanted to do was get out of the dress and sleep for a week, never to be seen again. Along with burning the dress the moment you had the chance to. 

"Y/n, we have to talk about this! What is wrong with you tonight?" He questioned but you kicked off your heels and continued walking up the staircase towards the bedroom, taking out the earrings and putting them into the jewellery box on the vanity. You ignored his question not wanting to get into it but he just kept pushing you for answers.

"You've been in an awful mood all night, what's your problem?!" He questioned once he saw you struggling to undo the zip on the back of your dress. Your arms fell down in defeat as he had the nerve to tell you that you were the one in the bad mood, 

"I've been in a bad mood?" You questioned as you stared at him dumbfounded that he was accusing you of being the one in a bad mood. 

"What's your problem? We went out for a nice night and you've ruined it by leaving early." You rolled your eyes as you went back to struggling to reach the zip at the back of your dress, 

"You could have stayed there, lord knows you were having fun without me before I came in with Brian." You mumbled to yourself, wanting to scream out in annoyance with the dress when you couldn't get it undone quick enough.

"Talk to me when you're out of this mood," He grumbled at you as he turned to leave the bedroom, you sniffled as the tears you'd been holding in all night finally began to pour down your cheeks. 

"If you were so embarrassed by what I was wearing you should have just told me! Instead of going to great lengths to keep me hidden away from every person and camera possible." You breathed out as you stared at the back of his head, his shoulders tensed up as he turned back to look at you. 

"Is that what you thought I was doing?" His eyes softened as he stared at you waiting for your answer,

"No. Its what I know you were doing. I-I heard Lila and that in the bathroom, f-for fuck sake Chan you made me go through the back entrance and left me in a waiting room for an hour! Completely forgetting I was there!" The tears came gushing down your cheeks as the night stayed clear in your head. Your hands began to shake as you tried to get the dress off your body but it wouldn't budge. The zipper staying in place as you continued to try and get it off you,

"G-Get it off me, please." You stumbled over your words continuing to struggle until you cried out, 

"Get this fucking thing off me!" Your hands began shaking viciously as you tried to get the dress to come undone Chan wrapped his arms around you from behind as he began unzipping the dress for you as he helped you out of it. The two of you sunk down onto your knees as he brought you into his chest but you moved away from him, shaking your head as you cried. 

"I never meant for you to think that-" He tried to defend himself but you shook your head again, your mind going back to what you heard him say before.

"I heard what you were telling the boys, that I look awful and I'm embarrassing you...Next time save me the embarrassment and tell me." You got up from the floor heading to the en-suite when Chan stopped you by pressing his body against yours. His heart was racing you could feel it on your bare back as he wrapped his arms around you from behind as he shook his head. Promising you that it wasn't you that he was talking about.

"Baby no, N-No. I wasn't talking about you." He sighed, leaving kisses up and down your shoulder as he tried to reassure you that it wasn't you that he'd been talking about. The more he kissed you the harder you cried not wanting him to lie to you, 

"I heard you, I heard Lila and the girls. Y-You should have told me at home and I wouldn't have gone Chan. You wouldn't have to have gone to great lengths in hiding me." He turned you around to face him but you avoided his gaze keeping your eyes turned to the floor until he cupped your face in his hand.

"Whatever Lila said is a lie, I took you through the back because I know how insecure you are about cameras, I didn't want you to be uncomfortable with them." He whispered to you as he bent down to look into your eyes whenever you would move them off him, 

"I left you in the back room while I went to finish working on a song. I was on my way when Sana and Mina asked me to stand with them..." You scoffed at his poor attempt at an excuse, the first one you could believe but not this one, 

"Yeah, right. Like I was born yesterday." You swatted his hands away from your body but he pulled you back to him not letting you get away from him that easily. Not when he had to tell you the truth and make you see the truth. 

"I'm not and never will be embarrassed to be seen with you. What would make you think anything like that?" He reassured you as he kissed your forehead, 

"Y-You didn't say anything when you saw the dress at home and then when we went through the back I thought maybe it was true...T-Then Lila in the bathroom-" A sob interrupted you as you cried out again feeling pathetic for crying over something like this in front of him, 

"Then when I was leaving you said how awful someone looked and how embarrassing it was..." Chan could see why you thought he was doing the best he could to keep you hidden but he shook his head.

"Lila is a piece of work, I'll talk with Changbin about it later. Y/n. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on...You could have rocked up in a bin bag and I would have loved you for it." He whispered as he sat you down on the edge of the bed beside you, linking his hands with yours as he tried to get you to listen to him and pay attention. 

"The only thing embarrassing about tonight was that Lila won a day with me, she didn't bother bidding on anything except for me. The thing I said looked awful..." You looked up at him with your eyes teared up and bloodshot, he cupped your face in his hands as he shook his head leaning down to peck your lips.

"Was Sana's necklace, none of them wanted to wear them but their managers said it looked great. I didn't have the heart to say it didn't." Everything he was telling you was starting to make sense, deep down inside Chan would never do anything or say anything that could hurt you but in those moments your head did all of the overthinking for you.

"I'm sorry." You whispered to him as you snuggled your head into his chest, his arms automatically wrapping around your body as he whispered that it was okay. 

"I love you, you looked stunning tonight babe." He whispered to you as he pressed small kisses on the top of your head repeating it over and over to you. 

"I really do love the dress..." He whispered as you sniffled against him again, 

"I love you too Channie," You whispered to him not answering him on the dress subject since it was just bringing bad memories to your mind. 

"Come on. Let's get you into a nice hot shower and then I'll make us a hot drink." He tapped your side carefully as he helped you up from the bed turning to leave for the bathroom when his phone started vibrating from inside his pocket. 

"You bid on Brian-Hyung?" He stared at his phone as he read the text from Brian, glancing over his shoulder you smirked to see the smirking emojis from the older idol, 

Tell Y/n to put on her dancing shoes we're going to have a great day! You started giggling to yourself as you pulled Chan towards the bathroom trying to make him forget about it, 

"I'll swap my day with Lila for your day with Brian Hyung," He mumbled as he looked at you not wanting to get jealous over you and Brian again. 

"How about we just dump the day with Lila and you come with me and Brian?" You questioned as a text came through to your phone confirming your win on both Chan and Brian for a day together, outbidding Lila by a mile by the looks of it. 

"Did I ever mention that you're the best girlfriend a guy could ask for?" You shook your head as Chan picked you up carefully and carried you towards the bathroom, 

"I don't think you've ever mentioned it Christopher. Tell me please," You giggled as he kicked the bathroom door shut and began explaining all of the reasons you were so great to you.

Tagline: @taestannie​ @channiewoo​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @minholuvs​ @lkwonmj​

[engie-ivy]

Remus is quite smitten with the new guy he's been dating, but as he clearly can't have nice things, he completely ruins it and now he can only wait for Sirius Black to break up with him. Sirius Black has a different interpretation.

“I called your father an ignorant idiot who should shove his prejudiced opinions up his arse!”

Sirius frowns, like he doesn’t understand why Remus would consider that an issue. “My father is an ignorant idiot who should shove his prejudiced opinions up his arse.”

Far from the tree

To: Lily Evans

Lily, my time has come. Please remember me fondly.

Dramatic much, Lupin?

No, Lily. My life is genuinely over.

Okay, spill. How so?

Remember that guy I’ve been dating?

Mmm, let me think. The tall, fit one with the long, soft, dark hair, pretty eyes and broad shoulders, whom you’ve told me about approximately ten thousand times a day?

Yeah, I believe that does ring a bell.

Well, you can forget about him again.

He’s on his way over here to dump me as we speak.

What? No! Why?

I met his parents yesterday...

Remmie! That’s a huge step!

I didn’t know things were so serious between you two?

Things were seriously serious with Sirius!

Ah, but I gather from your first message it didn’t go very well?

It didn’t.

Oh, Remmie, you’re probably being too hard on yourself.

It’s always stressful to meet the parents. I’m sure they’ll understand if you were a bit awkward.

I called his father a narrow-minded bonehead whose imbecile opinions belong in the Middle Ages.

...

Yeah. Yeah, okay. That’s... That’s bad.

Remus, why?!

Because apparently I’m an idiot who has a good thing going and just has to find a way to ruin it for himself.

What did he say?

He drove me home and it was so awkward...

I was so embarrassed for causing such a scene at his bloody parents house, I fled inside as fast as I could, without really speaking to him (yes, I admit, I’m a coward).

I texted you right after I got a message from him just now, saying he’s on his way over, because ‘he needs to talk to me’...

Yikes.

Okay. Okay, maybe... If his family really is so narrow-minded, maybe you dogged the bullet?

He seems nothing like them, though. I really can’t believe those people raised him.

Well, you wouldn’t say me and my sister were raised by the same people, so I guess strange things happen.

But Remus,

Know that if he breaks up with you because you don’t get along with his stupid parents, he doesn’t deserve you anyway!

Normally, I’d agree. But I don’t know if that still goes when you call someone’s mother ‘a vicious old hag, whose arrogance is only equal to her stupidity’.

...

Remus!

What the hell happened there?!

Oh my God, he’s here!

These are officially my last moments of dating a way out of my league-guy.

Well, I guess it was nice as long as it lasted. Might as well get it over with.

I’m so sorry, Remus. I know you really liked this one...

Stay strong! I’ll have the chocolate ready!

With a sigh, Remus tosses his phone to the side and stands to get the door. Might as well get it over with, right?

When he opens the door to reveal Sirius, the positive thing is that Sirius doesn’t immediately begin yelling at him. He doesn’t even look all that angry, really. He just gives Remus a small, uncertain smile.

The negative thing is that Sirius looks bloody gorgeous. He’s wearing an elegant coat, with a scarf loosely draped around his long neck and his hair is hanging loose. Before today, this would definitely be considered a positive thing, but not when Remus is just minutes away from getting dumped by this ridiculously handsome man. There should really be a rule against looking this good when you’re breaking up with someone, Remus thinks bitterly as he steps aside to let Sirius in his apartment.

As Sirius unbuttons his coat to reveal a fitted shirt showing off his lean, muscular form, Remus can only conclude that he has really been fooling himself by thinking this could ever last.

He shakes his head to stop himself from ogling his soon to be-ex-boyfriend. “Would you like something to drink?” He asks, trying to sound composed.

“No thank you,” Sirius replies. “I’d rather get this off my chest immediately.”

Remus doesn’t reply and stares at his feet to brace himself for the inevitable blow.

“I suppose you know why I’m here?” Sirius asks, sounding a bit nervous.

Remus wonders vaguely if Sirius is concerned about hurting his feelings, even after his horrible behaviour of yesterday. “Yeah,” he whispers. “I do.”

Sirius takes a deep breath. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come, but I just had to at least tell you how sorry I am, even if you want nothing to do with me anymore.”

Remus just stares at him, trying to puzzle together what Sirius just said. He’s sorry... about having to break up with Remus? But shouldn’t he lead with the break up? And why would it be up to Remus to want nothing to do with him? Remus is not in a state of mind to deal with this. Can’t Sirius just dump him already?

Sirius is getting more nervous as Remus continues to just stare at him. “So I guess I just... offer you my apologies, and it’s up to you whether you want to accept them.”

“You’re apologizing?” Remus asks.

Sirius nods.

“You are apologizing to me?”

Another nod.

“You to me?”

“Yes, Remus,” Sirius says, sounding distraught. “But don’t worry, I don’t expect anything from you. I know I don’t have the right, after the situation I put you in.”

“I called your father an ignorant idiot who should shove his prejudiced opinions up his arse!”

Sirius frowns, like he doesn’t understand why Remus would consider that an issue. “My father is an ignorant idiot who should shove his prejudiced opinions up his arse.”

“No! I mean, well... yes, but I’m not supposed to say so, right?”

Sirius shrugs. “They had it coming, didn’t they? I’m not gonna make excuses for them. I was just hoping you might still want to give us a chance?”

“Your parents hate me!” Remus splutters.

Sirius lets out a laugh. “Thank God. If they’d liked you, I seriously had to reconsider our relationship.”

Remus blinks at him.

Sirius runs a hand through his hair. “Let me explain. My parents,” he speaks slowly now. “Are awful people. Like, really awful people. I shouldn’t have given in when they demanded to meet you, or I should have at least told you what they’re like. I’m so sorry I put you in that situation and exposed you to them without so much as a warning. I can understand if you hate me right now.”

“Why didn’t you warn me?” Remus asks, as he would’ve much rather been spared the anxiety he has been feeling all day.

Sirius shrugs again. “I suppose I wanted you to form you own opinion? As their son, I’m of course biased to hate them.”

Remus opens his mouth to say that is not how a parent-child relationship is supposed to work, but Sirius keeps talking.

“Look, Remus. You didn’t sign up for dealing with my horrible parents, and I’m sorry I dragged you into it. My family is... messed up, and I can understand if you want nothing to do with that whole mess. I won’t blame you if you just want to stay away from me and my family issues.”

“I...”

I’ll do a whole lot more than deal with crappy parents if it means I get to be with you, Remus wants to say. I won’t judge you based on who your parents are, Remus wants to say. I won’t just abandon you, Remus wants to say.

What he says instead is “I purposely spilled a glass of red wine over your mother’s new couch!”

Sirius looks at him with a fond smile. “Yeah, just when I thought I couldn’t love you more.”

Sirius doesn’t seem to realise what he just said, but Remus’ eyes widen. “You... love me?”

Sirius flushes and starts stammering. “Oh God, I’m sorry! Not that I love you. I mean, look at you. How could I not? But that’s way too soon, isn’t it? And this is the worst timing! I mean, you’re probably super angry with me, and I don’t even know if you still want to see me...”

“I don’t mind!” Remus quickly says. “I mean, I think I rather like that you love me? I think I’m very much starting to feel the same way?”

Sirius looks at him with a hopeful expression. “You do?”

Remus chuckles. “Come here,” he says as he pulls Sirius towards him. “For you, I’d throw my wine over any piece of furniture your mother might own any day.”

Sirius smiles as he leans in to kiss Remus. “In that case, can’t wait till Christmas.”

Remus? How bad is it?

Will regular milk do, or is this a triple chocolate with chocolate chips-type of situation?

Hates his parents, loves me, all good!

[quirklessthot]

kinktober: day 18 | lingerie  [iida]

warnings: 18+, semi-public sex

word count: 1.8k

a/n me: i don’t really write for iida, i dunno his character just doesn’t really speak to me. also me: *not only writes for iida but makes his entry the longest i’ve written so far*  🤡

⤿  kinktober masterlist

Tenya Iida is a very busy man, as one would expect from a pro hero running his very own agency. Not that you’re not proud of your husband – there isn’t a happier spouse in the world than yourself. But it does get lonely when he has to stay at the agency office late almost every other night. You especially hate it when your time alone with him, scarce as it is, is interrupted by an important call or some villain attack. So, it’s no wonder that you begin to feel a little… neglected. And it’s a problem that you’re determined to fix.

You hum happily to yourself as you step out of the shower, grinning widely at the special outfit you have laid out on your bed. This plan is foolproof, you think to yourself as you get dressed. If this doesn’t get Tenya to pay attention to you, nothing will. The finishing touches is a pair of heels and the long, tan trench coat that Tenya got you for Christmas last year.

With one last onceover in your full length mirror to make sure nothing is out of place you head out for the Ingenium Agency. You’re greeted by the bubbly receptionist with a smile when you walk through the large glass doors of the agency.

“I’m here to see my husband,” you explain.

She’s already picking up the phone on her desk. “I’ll give him a call and let him know.”

You put out a hand to stop her, tittering nervously when she gives you a concerned look. “No need! I-It won’t take long – a quick in and out.”

She regards you curiously for a moment before breaking out into a sunny smile. “Of course!”

You thank her and quickly make your way towards the elevators, heels clacking on the tiled floors with every step. Once the elevator doors close shut and you feel it begin to ascend, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Before you know it, the elevator comes to a stop, pinging to let you know you’ve reached the top floor, and slowly opens its doors.

Iida – thankfully - has almost the entire floor to himself, with just one other, smaller office closer to the elevator. The door is closed and you’re hoping that means they’re still vacant, Iida’s been meaning to hire a new personal assistant for the longest but never gets around to it. His own behemoth of an office sits all the way at the back of the building. You have to stop yourself from running towards the large polished wood door in your excitement.

Without knocking, you open the door to his office as silently as possible and poke your head inside. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to be particularly busy. He’s sitting at his desk, large and imposing just like the man himself, nose buried in one of the many books that line the walls behind him. You’re hoping that your little surprise is more interesting than whatever that dusty old tome has in it.

Iida glances up at you for a second before going back to reading. It takes a few seconds for him to realize what he just saw, and he does a double take, looking at you with wide eyes and uttering your name in surprise.

“Is something the matter, my love?” he asks, moving to get up but sitting back down when you motion for him to stay where he is.

“Can’t I drop by to see how my husband’s doing?” you ask, closing and discreetly locking the door behind you. “Besides, I’ve got a present for you,” you add coyly once you’re standing directly in front of his desk.

“You do?” Iida looks you up and down, searching for a box or bag but all he sees is you, hands folded in front of you. “Where is it?”

You bite your lip to hold back your giddy smile and move your hands towards the belt of your trench coat. You slowly unbuckle it, pealing open your coat to reveal what you’re wearing underneath. You’re dressed in a stunning little number you know he’ll love – all delicate white lace and ribbons. The soft fabric hugs your body in a way that flatters your body so well even you couldn’t believe your eyes when you had put it on. Best of all, it’s a very recent purchase so it’s a set he has never seen before.

Your arousal has made the already thin material of your panties almost sheer and Iida can just about make out the puffy lips of your slick little cunt. His dick twitches to life in his slacks at the lewd sight.

You’re not sure what you expected from your husband once you showed up to his office in nothing but lingerie and heels but the stony, almost-glare he’s giving you is very last on the list. You begin to feel self-conscious when he doesn’t react, shrinking into yourself under his intense gaze. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all…

Just as you’re about to cover up, face burning with embarrassment, Iida stops you and beckons you closer, pushing out his chair. Unsure, you walk around the wide expense of his desk to stand directly in front of him, fidgeting nervously with the sleeves of your coat.

Iida to face you, silently regarding with the same blank, controlled expression.

“Did anyone see you... like this?” he asks, adjusting his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. His voice is low and strained, and he hopes you don’t think it’s out of anger. Anger is the furthest emotion from his mind right now. It’s taking every ounce of self-control to not bend you over his desk and fuck you senseless.

You shake your head. “No, I don’t think so.” You made sure that your coat was secured and fastened properly so that no one would catch even a glimpse of what’s underneath – you think you’d die of embarrassment if someone caught on to what you had planned.

He gives a short nod, seemingly satisfied with your answer.

“Well,” Iida says, clearing his throat. “You said this was my gift, stop hiding and let me see you.”

Perking up instantly, you shrug the coat off, allowing it to fall into a heap on the floor. Iida shifts his legs apart and you immediately step between them. You see that he’s not as unaffected as he’s putting on. But before you can comment on the tent he’s pitching, Iida turns your around and sits you on his lap, pressing your ass right up against his straining cock.

He fiddles with the lacy strap of your bra, moving his hand down to cup and squeeze your breast, drawing a quiet whimper from your parted lips. His hand slips further down, across your tummy and down between your thighs, the other goes under your thigh to lift it up and spread you open even more. With a hum, he pets your soaked cunt, rolling your engorged clit over the material of your panties, saturated and sticky with your arousal. The cool air against your soaked flesh makes you shiver in Iida’s hold, pressing back against his broad chest. You moan, thighs closing around his hand, before he pries them open again, commanding you to keep them spread.

“What brought this on, my love?” Iida asks, bending his head to press kisses against your neck and jaw. He pulls your panties to the side, and dips two thick fingers into your wet heat all the way up to the third knuckle. You groan, back arching as you clench tight around the intrusion.

“Mm… I m-missed you,” you reply, just a hint of a pout in your voice. “You’re hardly home anymore.”

“So, all of this is… what? A ploy for my attention?” He continues to fuck you open with his fingers, wet squelch every time he bottoms out. “Have you been that needy?”

You don’t answer, too busy enjoying the feel of Iida’s fingers massaging your walls. You’re never able to reach as deep as he does with your own fingers.

Iida slides his fingers out and delivers a quick spank to your clit that has you keening. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes!” you gasp. “Yes, Tenya. Please!”

You whine when he pulls his wet fingers away to grip your other thigh.

“Help me out, sweetheart. I would, but my hands are full.” He gives your thighs a squeeze.

You reach underneath you and nearly pop the button off in your haste, tugging down the zipper and reaching inside to pull his cock out. He’s hot and heavy in your hand, thick enough that you almost can’t wrap your hand around it fully. You purr in satisfaction as you collect the glob of precum beading the tip and use it to slide your hand up and down his turgid length.

“Be a good girl and put it in,” Iida mutters in your ear, readjusting his grip on your thighs and lifting you up slightly.

You line up the head of his dick with your eager little cunt and as soon as you manage to fit the head in, Iida’s pushing his hips upwards while lowering you down, wasting no time to spear you on his cock.

You don’t know whether it’s the angle or the fact that he hasn’t fucked you properly in a while, but you’re so full you swear you can cum from this alone.He starts up a quick pace, fucking up into you with all the pent up frustration he’s been holding in. It seems you’re not the only one affected by his long absences.

“Harder,” you beg, voice high and reedy.

He is more than happy to oblige, each hard thrust paired with the loud smack of skin on skin contact. The blunt head of his dick kisses the tip of your cervix and you nearly black out.

“T-Tenya, please.” You slide a hand between your legs, swirling your fingers messily around your sensitive little clit. “Please, please, please...!”

You feel the familiar heat building up in the pit of your stomach and you throw your head back, grinding your hips down even harder. You can’t believe you’re close already.

“Cum,” he orders, bouncing you on his dick until you cream all over him, ruining the expensive silk slacks of his suit. Not that it’s a concern for either of you at the moment.

Your body sags, and you lean heavily against Iida’s chest, completely spent but more than satisfied. You don’t even realize that Iida hasn’t cum yet, that he’s still hard inside your spasming little pussy.

You cry out when he starts up again seconds later, pussy too sensitive from your intense orgasm. Whining, you beg for him to slow down, give you a chance to rest and collect your senses but your pleas fall on deaf ears.

You wanted his attention so badly? Well, you’ve got it.

[purrincess-chat]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH7

Happy Valentine’s weekend, my dears! To make up for missing last week, I’m sharing two chapters today. Maybe if you’re all really good, and I have time I’ll share chapter 8 on Sunday. That’s where the fun begins ;) Are you ready for it?

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Previous   First   Next    AO3

Chapter 7: Shake It Out

My dear sweet Marinette,

           How are you, my fairy? I hope that this letter finds you well. When you backpack over Russian mountains, you take whatever mail service you can get. I have so much to tell you about my latest trip, but first I have some exciting news for you!

During my last stay in Africa volunteering to build homes in a humble little village, I ran into a sweet little fairy by the name of Clara Nightingale. She says she met you! Did you know she’s a famous pop star? Anyway, she and I spent a lot of quality time together teaching young children how to read, and I showed her the scarf you knitted me for Christmas. She loved it! She says she will be in Paris again on the 18th and wanted to meet with you about designing for her, so I gave her the address to the bakery. She said she would stop by and see you.

“No way, no way, no way!” Marinette shrieked, kicking her feet. “Clara Nightingale wants me to design for her! I’m gonna faint.”

“This is an amazing opportunity for you, Marinette,” Tikki said as Marinette paced the floor, hugging the letter. “Tomorrow could change your life!”

“I know, Tikki! I’m so excited to- wait.” She stopped abruptly. “Tomorrow?”

“The letter said the 18th,” Tikki said, and Marinette raced over to pull down her calendar. “Isn’t that-”

“Tomorrow! Clara Nightingale is coming to my house. Tomorrow. To look at my designs!” Marinette clutched her cheeks as rapid breaths shook her shoulders. Tikki covered her ears as another scream emitted from Marinette’s throat. “This is a dream come true, Tikki!”

“It’s not that surprising. Gabriel Agreste liked your designs, and Clara attended the show, so it’s not like she’s unfamiliar with your work.” Tikki pointed out. “Plus, you’ve designed for Jagged before too.”

“I know, but getting commissioned by celebrities at 14 isn’t something you just get used to.” Marinette fell onto her chaise with a sigh. “I can’t wait to tell Macy, Eliott, and Martin! They’re gonna freak out.”

“What are you going to do about Chloe?”

Marinette waved it away, reading over the letter again. “I’m going to ignore her. She has no power over me.”

“True…” Tikki said. “But she did have a point. You always look out for your friends.”

“Yeah, but how many of those ‘friends’ came to visit me when I left?” Marinette said pointedly.

“Is that why you left? To see who would come?”

Marinette set the letter down and pursed her lips. “That’s one reason. I wanted to get away, but I also wanted to see who my real friends are,” she said. “I wanted to see who cared enough to chase after me, and I guess Adrien is the only real friend I had after all. Funny how I spent all that time hoping he would notice me when in reality, he’s always been on my side.”

“He thinks really highly of you.” Tikki flitted over to rest beside her.

“I know. My heart was beating so fast when he said those things earlier. Do you think it means he likes me?” Marinette smiled up at her ceiling, biting her lip.

“It definitely means he knows how amazing you are, and I’m sure you can catch his attention romantically too. Especially now that you two are hanging out so much,” Tikki said.

“I feel like all of my dreams are coming true.” Marinette buried her face in the throw pillow with a squeak.

“With everything you give to the city, I think you deserve it,” Tikki said.

“Well, one thing is for sure, I need to defeat Hawkmoth before I become a famous fashion designer and go to New York. That’s priority number one. Chat Noir, Rena- oh-” Marinette sat up abruptly.

“What’s the matter?”

“Well, Alya and Nino are Rena Rouge and Carapace, but after everything… I don’t know if I still trust them,” she said. “I don’t doubt that they would help Ladybug, but if I know who they are, then it might affect me. Do you think I made a mistake picking people close to me?”

“I think that’s a question for someone with more experience picking.” Tikki advised.

Marinette drummed her fingers on her thigh. “You’re right, Tikki. Let’s go.”

Master Fu was playing cards with Wayzz when Marinette knocked on the door and poked her head in. “Master?”

“Marinette, what brings you here?” He lowered his hand calmly.

“I could use some advice. Do you have a minute?”

Wayzz peeked over his cards with a huff. “We are in the middle of a game,” he said matter-of-factly, but Master Fu cast him a sly smile.

“It’s okay.” He splayed his royal flush for Wayzz to see. “I was just winning. What is on your mind?”

Marinette sat on the mat, hugging her knees to her chest as Wayzz zipped off grumpily. Taking a deep breath, she dove in, sparing no details—Volpina, Lila, her friends, changing schools, leaving Alya. Everything. Master Fu listened patiently while she talked, sipping his tea thoughtfully every now and then.

“I’m sorry, Master, but I think I made a mistake picking my friends to be Rena Rouge and Carapace.” She finished, head hanging low. “I don’t think I’m fit to choose our partners anymore.”

“Marinette,” Master Fu said with one of his kind, grandfatherly smiles. “We cannot blame ourselves for the actions of others. Your friends have made choices outside of your control. That does not mean that your judgment was lacking when you picked them. People change, and that is no one’s fault, just the natural order of things.”

“So, you won’t be mad if I pick someone else next time I need help?” Marinette glanced up at him like a small child waiting to be scolded.

“You must pick allies you can trust—whoever that happens to be in the moment,” he said.

“Thank you, Master.” Her shoulders relaxed. “Sorry to interrupt your game.”

“It’s okay. I have a large lead on Wayzz.” He chuckled. “Come back anytime.”

“I will. And next time, I’ll choose people I know I can count on.”

♪♫♪ StopRewind ♪♫♪

“You’re in an awfully good mood,” Macy remarked as Marinette took her seat in home room.

“Did something good happen? Spill!” Eliott leaned in.

Marinette glanced around the room to ensure their classmates couldn’t hear them. “Can you two keep a secret?”

“Oh, if there’s anything we aristocrats know how to do, it’s keep secrets.” Eliott assured her.

“Yeah, you’re our friend now. You can count on us.” Macy echoed with an encouraging nod.

Marinette bit her lip, leaning in close to whisper, “Clara Nightingale wants me to design for her.”

“No way!” Eliott gasped.

“Marinette, that’s huge.” Macy squealed before regaining her composure. “Don’t worry. We will totally keep it on the down-low, but I can’t wait to see the look on Gabrielle’s face when it goes public.”

“Pretty soon you’ll be buying your own yacht, Marinette,” Eliott said with a laugh. “Speaking of, you still need to see mine.”

“Oh, and we should totally have tea at my house! We just had the theater redone,” Macy added.

“I’d love to,” Marinette said. “Clara is supposed to come over today, so I’ll tell you how it goes.”

“We want all of the details tomorrow,” Macy said as Mr. Mercier entered the room and called for everyone to settle down. “We can rendezvous at my place this weekend.”

“Sounds good.”

When school ended, Marinette rushed home, a giddy smile tugging at her cheeks. What type of design would Clara want? A dress? Or maybe a tasteful pantsuit? Her mind was already buzzing with ideas. Hopefully, she didn’t mess everything up. What if she designed something, and Clara hated it? Or worse what if Audrey Bourgeois slammed her design in the next issue of her magazine because she refused to help Chloe? Then it could ruin Clara’s career, and it would be all Marinette’s fault!

“Hi, sweetie. How was school?” her mom greeted when she entered the bakery.

“Fine, except I have no talent, and I’m going to ruin Clara Nightingale,” she said.

“That’s not true. My daughter has all the talent in the world. She can do anything!” Her dad scooped her into a tight hug. “After all, she comes by it naturally.” He gestured to a large wedding cake resting in the back.

“You’re just nervous, sweetie. You’re going to be great,” her mom said.  

The bell above the door chimed, and a woman wearing a hat and sunglasses entered. Marinette���s father put her down and resumed his post in the back while her mother returned to the cash register.

“Welcome! What can we get for you today?” her mom asked politely.

“What I’m after isn’t a sweet treat; there’s someone here I want to meet.” She lowered her sunglasses to peek over at Marinette. “It’s been some time since we’ve seen one another, but your designs are truly like no other.”

“Clara Nightingale! You’re here!” Marinette gasped.

“I want to ask you a request of mine. I’ll run it by you if you’ve got time.”

“Yes, I have so much time!” Marinette said, then composing herself, gestured to the back door. “Why don’t we chat upstairs?”

“Fine by me. This request is top secret, you see,” Clara said. She followed Marinette up to the apartment, and once they were safely away from the public eye, she removed her disguise with a sigh of relief. “Thank you for meeting with me. I assume you read your grandmother’s letter.”

“I did. It arrived yesterday.” Marinette nodded, putting on a pot of tea.

“Excellent! Then you know why I’m here.”

Marinette turned and found herself face-to-face with Clara, nearly dropping the teabags in surprise.

“Ever since I met you, I felt a connection between us like our destinies were entwined. I loved the hat you designed for Adrien, and Jagged has only ever told me great things about you. Then of course, Gina’s scarf was to die for, so, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, would you be willing to design for me?” Clara dropped onto one knee.

“Doesn’t Gabriel Agreste usually design your clothes? Wouldn’t you rather see a professional?” Marinette asked.

“Gabriel’s designs are wonderful, but I think you can capture my essence for this. I’ve been nominated for a music award, and I want you to design my dress for the ceremony.” Clara took her hands with a confident smile. “You and I are both passionate about our crafts, and I think you can bring something that Gabriel can’t, so what do you say?”

Clara’s gaze bore into hers hopefully, and Marinette shifted her weight. “I’ll do my best.” Marinette gulped, and Clara bounced in delight.

“Thank you, Marinette! This favor is one I won’t forget!” Clara pulled her in for a tight hug. “Your willingness means so much, and very soon I’ll be in touch.”

Clara trotted out the door happily, hat and sunglasses in hand, leaving Marinette standing in the kitchen, stunned. She blinked out of her trance when the teapot on the stove screeched and set it aside, barely capable of containing her smile.

She couldn’t wait to tell her friends this.

♪♫♪ I’d Love to Break It to You ♪♫♪

Adrien removed his fencing gloves with a sigh. Another long day of watching Lila manipulate everyone. Even he had to admit it was getting old, especially since Nino spent most of his free time helping Alya with her deputy duties, which were really Lila’s class representative duties that she came up with excuses to get out of.

He ripped open his locker and tossed the gloves into his bag, thinking back to Marinette’s anguished sobs the previous evening. Seeing her so upset was nauseating in a way Adrien had never felt before. Maybe it was because Marinette was always positive and upbeat, doing her best to help others even when she had problems of her own. Someone like her being so broken and hurt was painful to watch. He wanted to help her in some way, but how could he? He could barely stand up to Chloe, let alone Lila.

“Why the long face?” Kagami’s voice startled him.

He turned to face her as she leaned against the locker next to his.

“Just tired.” He slung his bag over one shoulder with a shrug.

“You’ve been like this for the past week,” she remarked as he paced up the aisle toward the door. “Ever since Marinette left.”

“It’s been a long week. I’ve had a lot going on,” he said flatly.

“You miss her.”

Adrien stopped short at the end of the row and glanced back at Kagami over one shoulder. “Why wouldn’t I? She’s my friend.”

Kagami shoved away from the locker, approaching him slowly—lithe like a cat stalking her prey. “I wonder why she left so suddenly. Rumor has it that she had a jealousy spat with that Italian girl in your class,” Kagami said. “What was her name again? Lie-la?”

“Yeah,” Adrien said curtly, adjusting the strap of his bag.

“She sure has everyone enamored.” Kagami paused beside him and cocked a hip. “Well, almost everyone.”

“Why do you care?” Adrien’s eyes narrowed.

“I don’t.” She shrugged.

“So why bring it up?”

“Because you and I both know the truth, and I suspect Marinette does too.” She tilted her chin to meet his gaze. “She’s a liar.”

Adrien let out a breath, the stiffness in his shoulders fading. “How’d you find out?”

“She claimed that her great grandfather was a world-champion fencer who invented a secret technique, but my family has held the championship title for the last six generations,” Kagami said. “Plus, her stories are so obviously farfetched and self-congratulating.”

“Tell that to everyone else,” he grumbled.  

“It’s not really my place. I don’t even go here.” Kagami shrugged again. “Besides, to everyone here, I’m just the ice queen.”

“So, you’re stuck with this knowledge too.” Adrien deflated with a sigh.

“After what happened with Marinette, I have no interest in confronting her. If your classmates want to be sheep, I say let them,” she said. “No sense in letting it upset you. They could easily figure it out if they applied an ounce of brain power.”

“Well, yeah, but she’s using all of them. I thought her lies were harmless, but she has everyone bending over backwards to help her. Now Marinette left the school hurt… I’m starting to get a little fed up.” Adrien averted his gaze, the wave of nausea returning to his stomach.

“So, call her out then,” Kagami said as if it were obvious. “People trust your word, and you have enough celebrity pull to prove it.”

“Yeah, but…” He winced.

“Adrien, your friends will only continue to suffer if you stay silent. Action is the only way to help them.” When he lowered his head, she rolled her eyes and pushed past him. “I hope your friends see the light eventually. For your sake. See you tomorrow.”

Adrien’s hands clenched into fists as she sauntered from the locker room, biting his tongue as anger swelled in his chest. Letting out a heated breath, he stalked toward the door, blinking in surprise when it opened.

Lila stepped in front of him and wasted no time latching onto his neck. “Adrien, you’ve been avoiding me,” she said with her sugary-sweet lilt. “You promised to help me catch up on my school work.”

“Sorry. I don’t think I can. Why don’t you ask Max?” He unhooked her arms and pushed her away gently.

“But you promised!” She pouted.

Her whiny tone sent a shiver down his spine, and he tried unsuccessfully to mask his grimace. “I’ve got a lot going on, Lila. Photoshoots, private lessons, that sort of stuff.” He took a purposeful step away from her.

“You seem to have enough time to go visit Marinette,” she said pointedly, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“Lila-”

“She’s the one who’s lying, ya know. I’m sure she has told you all kinds of nasty things about me, but they’re false,” Lila said. “She’s just trying to turn you against me because she’s jealous.”

“That’s not true, Lila.” Adrien’s anger boiled hotter. “Marinette just wants to move on.”

“Is that why she went to Jagged Stone’s concert just to try to make me look bad?”

“No, that’s not-”

“Alya is still upset over their fight. Marinette ripped her heart out and stomped on it.”

“There’s more to it than tha-”

“Honestly, Marinette is the worst person I’ve ever met.”

Something in Adrien’s chest snapped—a rubber band stretched too far.

“How do I know when I should stand up for myself?”

“I get a feeling in my gut that it’s the right thing to do.”

“Enough, Lila!” he shouted.

She flinched, cupping her hands over her mouth. “Adrien, I-”

“Your lies won’t work on me, and sooner or later everyone else is going to see through you too, and you’ll be left all alone. Is that what you want?” He barely gave her a moment to respond before continuing. “Marinette poured her heart and soul into her friends. She made sacrifices for them and never once asked for anything in return, and now you’ve gone and turned her best friend against her and convinced everyone that she just wanted attention. If anyone here is a terrible person, it’s you.”

Lila’s face hardened, her whole countenance darkening. “I see how it is, Adrien.” Her jaw clenched. “If you choose to side with her over me, then I can’t help what happens to you. I own this school now, and there’s nothing you or Marinette can do about it.”

Turning over her shoulder, she slapped Adrien with her hair on her way out, and he balled his hands into tight fists. A feeling he’d never felt before bubbled in his core that made him restless. Adrien always thought Lila just wanted attention, but purposefully targeting one of his friends was not okay.

A new resolve came over him, and he instructed Gorilla to make a pitstop at the Grand Paris on the way home. His fist pounded against the suite door, breaths short and hot.

Chloe was lounging in a yellow bathrobe, feet soaking in a tub of water when her butler let him in. She raised an eyebrow as he entered. “You know I’m always happy to see you, Adrikins, but I’m in the middle of an herbal soak-”

“I want to help you take down Lila.” He cut her off.

A sinister smirk spread across Chloe’s lips, her shock fading to triumphant glee.

“Excellent.”

[george-mackay-macfine]

Dear Diary Prt. 13

A/N: We're back Baby

---------------------

December 22nd, 2011

Dear Diary,

It’s six o'clock in the morning, a ludicrous time to be awake really, but we’ve got a long day ahead of us. We’re driving home with George and Jordan today.

Now, We’ve been doing this for a couple of months, and it’s been working out well. Starting everything off with ‘Dear Diary’ (something I was critical off, but now is so natural) and then me verbally purging my innermost, and most inappropriate thoughts onto the painfully white pages - We’ve done well, we’ve faced a lot but now we’re going up against the most painful thing we’ve ever faced since we started this journey.

Christmas with my family

Don’t get me wrong, I love my family but they drive me insane with their constant nagging about my love life - now at least I’ll have something to brag about - and my career choices.

Will I work in the family practice? Go on to a surgery discipline?

Drives me mental.

I’ll write more soon, I have to get my parka into my bag,

Love, Y/N.

December 22nd, 2011 - One o'clock

Jordan, George and I are finally in the car, we left after Jordan and George practically had to pull me from why bedroom as I was running around picking up anything I might need on the week-long visit.

“Y/N,” George yelled from the couch. “You nearly done?"

"Yeah.” I puffed out. “Just tryna….” Breathing raggedly from trying to shove my parka into the bag.

“What?"

"Parka,” I grunted. The material for this thing was too damn puffy, and not nearly malleable enough. “Just trying to fit it,"

"Just carry it Y/N,” Jordan called, “We’ve gotta get on the road, or we’ll not be there until tonight and I don’t know about your mum,” He appeared at the door, eyes watching me as I tried to fold the material, “But mine’s already threatened to cut off my balls if I’m late for tea, and I quiet like my balls, useful for things,”

"He’s right,” George called.

“I know he is,” I groaned pulling the coat out of the overstuffed bag. “That’s why it’s so annoying.” I zipped the duffle up and pulled the coat over my body, looking to Jordan who was giving me a toothy grin. I still can’t believe this is the same Jordan who tried hitting on me the first night I’d met him, and subsequently every night out up until a couple weeks ago,

“Y/N?” Jordan snapped his fingers, “You in there?”

“What?” I shook my head, “Yeah, I’m here.” I picked up the bag and looked around. “Okay,“ I looked around checking for anything I may have forgotten to shove into the bag, "I’m ready,"

"Finally,” Jordan clapped. “Let’s go, I’ll carry it,” He reached for the duffle. I passed it over to him, closing my bedroom door behind us as we walked into the living room.

“Where are your bags?” I looked around for George and Jordan’s luggage.

“We put it in the car before we came to get you,” George pulled open the front door and stepped into the hallway, holding it open for us.

“Such a gentlemen,” Jordan teased as he passed George. I quickly looked around making sure everything was locked. “Harry checked it all before he and Dean left,”

“Oh,” I walked out the door and waited for the pair. “Ready?”

“Only a couple hours till we all get to eat a home-cooked meal,” Jordan cheered.

“Only a couple hours until my mother and father, and the rest of my family ask me unending questions about my first semester, you mean.” I altered.

“Tell em about the time you got drunk,” Jordan suggested as I shut the door behind us,

“Which time,” George cackled to himself as we began our way down the hallway,

“I think the nacho time was probably the best one,” Jordan smirked,

“Oh, you mean the dinner we weren’t invited too?” George looked over to Jordan, a smile bubbling on his face.

“That’s the one I mean George,” Jordan pushed open the door to the stairwell.

“It was supposed to be a study session,” I defended myself, “Dean turned it into something more, not me.”

“Don’t blame Dean just because you didn’t want us there,” George tutted.

“Yeah Y/N,”

“But don’t worry Y/N, we have five hours to discuss why you didn’t invite us to dinner,” I could hear the smirk in George’s voice as we stepped down another flight.

“Seems like it’ll be more like five hours with two bullies in the car,"

"Don’t be silly Y/N,” Jordan threw his arm around my shoulder. “Doncaster is only 3 hours away,"

"Lucky me,”

“You love it Y/N, admit it.” George chuckled. “Wouldn’t want to make this drive with anyone else,”

He’s got you there Y/N, five hours sitting next to George… I need to sit in the front seat.

“Yeah sure,” I quickly moved down the stairs. Beat Jordan, Beat Jordan. Beat Jordan, Beat Jordan.

“So, now your in a rush Y/N?” Jordan laughed.

“No,” I called over my shoulder back towards the idle walking men, “Just wanted shotgun,” I screamed as I pushed open the final door and began running towards George’s car.

“No, you don’t Y/N,” Jordan screamed at me, the sound of his feet hitting the concrete stairs in the stairwell echoing as he ran after me. “I’m gonna get ya,"

"Stop it Jordan,” I squealed over my shoulder. “George, tell him to stop it,"

"Y/N?"

"Tom?” I stopped, Tom was standing in front of me, his hands in his pocket a look of confusion covering his face.

“What are you doin?” He laughed,

“Run Y/N!” George yelled from behind me as he emerged from the stairwell.

“Go!“ Tom pushed my shoulder gently sending me back into a full sprint towards the car. “Run Y/N,”

Jordan and I were neck and neck as we reached the car.

"Mine,” We screamed together, hands reaching out.

“I got it,” Jordan cheered his palm flat against the metal.

“Fuck,” I groaned, hands dropping to my knees as my lungs tried to kill themselves. “Jesus,"

"You really aren’t fit are you?"

"No,” I shook my head wildly, “Not at all,"

"After Christmas,” He patted my shoulder.

“Great,” I panted, hands still resting on my knees. “Can’t wait,"

"You alright Y/N?” George strolled towards me, Tom by his side. “You lost by the way,”

"Yes, I know.” I groaned. “Hi Tom,” I stood up a little straighter, ignoring the burning of my lungs, a smile coming to my lips as I took him in. “Won’t be a second George, I’ll meet you both in the car?"

"Yeah,” George held his hand out to Tom, “Happy Christmas,"

"See you in the New Year?” George nodded, “Mates throwing a party for New Years, you’re all welcome,"

"We’ll be there,” George winked cheekily at me as he passed. Tom walked over to me, pulling me to his chest,

“It’s going to be weird not seeing you for a week,” He mumbled into my hair, “I’ve grown used to seeing

you."

"At least it’s only a week,” I looked up at him. “I better go,” He nodded and leant down placing a chaste kiss on my lips. “Seven days,"

"Seven days,” He let go of me. His hand wrapped in mine as he walked with me to the car. He opened the door and waited for me to sit in the backseat behind Jordan, “Keep her safe MacKay,"

"Always,” George laughed as he started the ignition.

“Message me when you get there,"

"I will,” Tom closed the door and stepped back onto the footpath,

“Ready Y/N,” Jordan turned around in his seat looking back at me.

“Ready,”

So far the trip has been fine, Jordan, from the front seat, has been trying to get George and I to play I-spy with him, nearly the whole way, somehow he’s not figured out yet that if he stops picking things and looking at them for three minutes before he speaks we won’t guess so quickly what he’s chosen.

I’ll write more when I’m home diary, I’ll let you know how dinner with the family went.

Love Y/N,

December 22nd, 2011 - Seven o'clock

Dear Diary,

I just need to quickly write down what just happened for prosperity, then I have to run down and have dinner with the family. So it began when George had pulled up out the front of my house.

“Here we are,” George pulled the car into the curb bringing it to a still. I looked out the window and up at the house I’d grown up in. “You’re not going in?"

"Just want one more minute of silence before I run in and get bombarded with all the questions,"

"It won’t be that bad Y/N,” I looked from the house to him, He was leaning back on his headrest looking at me already.

“You don’t know my family,” I copied his form. “They’re mental, I’m surprised my mum hasn’t popped her head through the window yet,” I groaned. “And then it’ll be onto their constant nagging about my love life,”

“Least you have Tom now,"

"I wish it ended there, it’ll then go to my career choices. Will I work in the family practice? Go on to a surgery discipline maybe?” I let my head fall. “Every year, since I was fifteen they’ve been asking the same questions,"

"I’ll make you a deal, you go in there and face the hordes, and if it gets too much, send me a text saying Christmas tree and I’ll come to save you, we’ll run away together,"

"Christmas tree?” I laughed, George nodded his head,

“Christmas tree,"

"Okay,"

"Okay,” He reached across and pushed my fallen hair behind my ear, “You can do this, you’re Y/N Y/L/N,"

"Sounds so much bigger than it is when you say it,” I laughed picking up my duffle bag from my feet. I opened the door and went to step out, stopping to turn back to George, “Christmas Tree,” He nodded his head.

“I’ll be here, with bells on,"

“You’d look cute with bells on,”

“You’re cute when you’re flirting.”

“I wasn’t flirting.” I watched him as he turned away and looked up at the sky once more.

“I wish you had been. Tom better now how bloody lucky he is,”

So that happened. George happened. But he always happens when I don’t expect it…

Now it’s time for Christmas dinner with the family, I’ll write more if anything other than the nagging happens,

Love Y/N

December 23rd, 2011

Dear Diary,

I’ve survived two days (Basically two days), only just. I’m already starting to pull my hair out. The constant invasive questions from my family… It’s unbearable… The worst one though had to, by far come from my Aunt Mildred, who at dinner the night I’d arrived asked if I’d lost my virginity yet, or if that had happened a while ago. She then went into excruciating detail about how she lost her virginity.

I’ll never be the same.

I’ve considered messaging George, but I don’t want to ruin his time with his family.

Five more days Diary, five more days

December 24th, 2011

Dear Diary,

I’m ready to kill my family. As if Aunt Mildred’s descriptive, beyond detailed story about how she lost her virginity wasn’t enough. Now, my mum has sat me down, tonight, the night of the birth of Jesus mind you, and tried to have a safe sex talk with me… Like I haven’t known about sex, let alone sex for the last few years, since grade seven actually, and then she had the audacity to act surprised when I cut her off mid-sentence telling her I knew about the birds and the bees as she so aptly put it.

Now she thinks I’m lying about being a virgin.

Great. Just, great.

I had gotten through nearly three days before I’d sent a message to George, I needed some normalcy or my new sense of normalcy. He replied pretty quickly, saying he’d be out to pick me up, true to his word, Ten minutes later he was beeping out the front of my house.

“I’m going out,” I called as I trudged down the stairs.

“You can’t Y/N, it’s Christmas,” Mum cried from the kitchen as I passed by.

“It’s Christmas Eve, Ma.” I groaned. “I’m just going to see some old friends, and I’ll be home before tea,"

"Let her go,” Mildred called from her seat on the settee. “She’s only young once,” For once Aunt Mildred wasn’t speaking utter crap.

“I’ll be home soon,” I back out towards the front door when my mother didn’t protest to Mildred. “Before you know it,” I called finally as I shut the door behind me. I’d have to fight this battle later, but at least for now, I’d have a couple of hours without being driven up the wall.

“Your chariot, M'lady,” George called from inside his car, his head hanging out the window, I jogged over and slipped into the passenger side. “Your mum’s watching us,” I followed his line of sight to the window where my mum and Mildred had gathered to spy on us.

“And my Aunt Mildred.” George snorted turning the key in the ignition. “Where are we going?"

"No idea,"

"Want to play twenty questions?”

“Sure."

"You go first,” I moved in the seat so I was looking more directly at him. Watching as his lips pursed, before he smirked.

“Have you ever checked me out when I’ve walked away from you.” My cheeks burned a bright red. “And remember friend’s don’t lie to each other.” I leaned over the console a little.

“I am not answering that,” I gawked.

“Don’t worry, You just did,"

"My turn…. What’s your favourite eye colour,"

"Yours.” My heart melted as he looked over and smiled sending me a cheeky wink. “I like the colour of yours, What’s more important? Truth or Happiness?"

"Truth. We make our own happiness…” George nodded his head a smile pulling on his lips. “Have you ever been arrested?"

"Once.” He nodded his head, his jaw clenched a little as he spoke. “I was seventeen… Young and stupid."

"What happened?” I listened carefully to George. I’d seen many sides to him since our first night together on Ben Daniel’s roof, but this was new. A softer side, a more fragile side.

“This was when I was dating Laura Francis, you remember, her and Mason and Taylor?” He gave me a quick sideways glance, waiting for an indication I’d remembered his friends.

“Yeah,"

"We were out one night in Cambridge before we were eighteen mind you,” He cleared his throat as he thought about this next words, “We’d all been drinking with Mason’s older brother and his friends, so we were smashed, and we went to this club,” He cleared his throat again, His eyes narrowed as he watched the road, “I started a fight and a lot of stuff got broken, we all got arrested."

"Why’d you start a fight?"

"Laura was hooking up with another guy,"

"And you punched him.” I filled in the blanks. “And that’s how you got arrested."

"Yeah,"

"Well,” I cleared my own throat, “Laura was kind of a bitch in school, so it’s really not a big loss,” George’s lips move as laughter bubbled through.

“Only you can make me laugh over that, Y/N,” He shook his head. “What are your favourite hobbies?” I ran a hand through my hair, using the minute to digest the story George had told me,

“I like photography and writing.”

“I do always see you writing in your diary?” He looked across at me as we pulled to a stop. “What are you writing about?”

“Things,"

"Am I one of them?"

"What a thing?"

"Something you write about?"

"You’re in my life aren’t you?"

"Yes,"

"So yes, you are"

"Will you show me one day?"

"Maybe one day.” I nodded my head, I had no intent to show him, Diary.

“How about some food?” He pulled into the car park of the McDonalds we’d wasted hours in the night we’d met. “Is that?” His eyes narrowed as he leant forward on the steering wheel, squinting out into the sun. “No fucking way,” I followed his eyes to where he was looking. Standing beside a shitty old maroon car was Julian and Sarah.

“Julian,"

"And stalker Sarah,” George quipped. “They’ve seen us,” Julian had stood up straighter, nodding his head towards George’s car.

“Yup,” I nodded.

“Alright,” George cleared his throat and turned, his hand went to the back of my headrest, as I turned to face him. “We’re doing this,” He nodded. "We're doing this." He repeated without a second thought, he leaned in, his lips touching mine. His other hand ran up and grabbed my face, holding me in place. His tongue traced my bottom lip urging mine to open when I did our tongues touched. He pulled away lips going to my neck. “Y/N.” I grabbed onto his face and pulled him back up, reattaching our lips again. My hands left his face and went to his shirt, lifting it up as he pulled me over the console and onto his lap. I grabbed his shirt and lifted it up and over his head throwing it in the back seat. My lips went to his neck as he grabbed onto the handle for the seat, letting it fall backwards so we had more room. “Y/N, we need to stop.” George grabbed my face holding it gently. “Believe me, I’m a guy, and I don’t want to, but if we don't…” I nodded my head, opening the door and slipping out. I straightened my clothes and watched as George got out and pulled a shirt on.

“Y/N,” Her voice called across the car park, “Is that you?” I looked at George as Sarah called out to us, “Y/N Y/L/N,"

"George,” I groaned, “Can’t we do a drive-through order?"

"Not after than show,” He chuckled, fixing his shirt. “C'mon, we’ll just ignore her.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the doors. Sarah and Julian watched us as we neared them.

“So you two are a thing, huh?” Julian’s voice called as we passed. “Enjoy the slutty sloppy seconds MacKay,” My feet stilled, George’s hand squeezed mine.

“No, You know what,” I growled turning around. I stalked up to Julian and slapped him across the face, “How dare you,” I screamed. “You fucked this up Julian, you cheated on me with her,” I hissed at Sarah who’d slunk back. “So don’t think you can go around, accusing me of being a slut,” My eyes turned to slits. “You didn’t fuck me, and I’m sure if you did I wouldn’t have been able to feel it,"

"Fuck,” I heard George whisper under his breath.

“So next time you try and accuse me of being a slut because I’ve moved on, have a look back and think why that’s happened, you small cock fuck,” I turned on my heel and walked back to George,

“Y/N Y/L/N, I may just be in love with you,"

[passivenovember]

Walking Home (v)., the  Tourniquet

For you @thursday-knight. Lysm

They’re going to let Billy out of that horrible, gray padded room on Tuesday, which Steve snorts at over the phone. 

“What, you think that’s fuckin’ funny or something?”

“No, It’s just.” It’s kind of funny. Steve wraps the phone chord around his hand. Nice and tight, like a tourniquet. “Tuesday’s weird.”

“Tuesday’s...weird?”

“Yeah.”

Steve can hear something, like. The clack of a pen. It’s a common nervous tick, a way to cope, but. Steve’s never seen any one hold a bic the way Billy does. 

Barrel in his palm. Clicking the register with his pointer finger, like. He’s pressing Reagan’s Big Red Button. The one to blow up the world.

“What’s so weird about a Tuesday release, man?”

“Ruining the start of a week by spending it in the hospital and then having to use the rest of it adjusting to life outside?”  Steve shrugs, remembering that Billy can’t see him. “They could at least give you a Friday. Then you’d have the weekend, right?”

Billy’s grin is somehow manifested in the honey drip of his voice. “Been locked up for six months, Harrington, what’s two more days?”

And that could be true.

Steve doesn’t feel like so much time has passed. The rise and fall of the moon, the turn of the seasons, the way Billy has to wear fuzzy socks with those little grips on them to stay warm in beige corridors, have been lost on Steve. 

Tainted. Wrapped in paper the exact shade of survival. Surgeries and afternoons carpooling the kids to Hawkins general, paying Barry Mildred to do Billy’s algebra homework for him, and. 

Convincing everyone.

Himself, too.

That Billy would be alright. Steve had to do everything he could to get Billy ready for the world, or.

The world ready for him.

“Has it really been that long?” Steve wonders.

And Billy laughs. “Maybe not for you, King Steve. Some of us had to spend the whole of it in one room.” It doesn’t sound as painful as it usually does.

Steve just nods again. To himself.

He remembers the leaves changing around the time Billy learned to walk again. Halloween. Bringing left-over contraband to spoil Billy’s strict diet of organic bullshit while his body healed itself. Amber leaves complimenting blue eyes as they made unsteady laps around the courtyard together. 

Steve holding his arm out time and time again, and. Billy taking it. 

Christmas. Snowball fights with the kids, crystals on long blonde eyelashes while that stubborn mouth fought to return every smile Max threw his way. Those very same lashes, wet with tears, when Billy opened a vintage copy of Cider House Rules, on Christmas Eve. 

All, you really shouldn’t be spending the holiday in a psych ward, Harrington.

But they held hands for the first time that night. Steve said, where else would I want to be?

And Billy, just. Took what he could get--nothing more.

Steve remembers a lot of things. Happiness. Rocky, at first, unearned, a slide into friendship which turned into peachy cheeks that rivaled the setting sun.

Summer, Fall, Winter, and.

February.

Steve must have missed it. All of it, while he was busy being grateful that Billy was alive. 

He checks the calendar.

“You’ll be out in time for Valentines,” He says. Because that’s important, somehow. “Got any big plans?”

“Oh, for sure.” Billy clicks his pen. One-two-three. “Got a girl waiting for me on the outside, thought we could catch a movie.”

Steve knows. 

He knows it isn’t true, that Billy’s just yanking his ridiculously short chain, but. Steve’s heart beats in time with the click of a pen. Advancing and overtaking the tempo to orchestrate a symphony of worry.

Of fear.

It used to taste like copper. Black slime and dirty snow, but now it tastes like mashed potatoes served on a hospital lunch tray. Contraband sweets. Change and forced endings and--

Steve chokes on something. A laugh that falls wrong halfway through, like a sob colored to fit summer days. “What are you doing after?”

The clacking stops. “Just fucking with you, Harrington.”

“I know.”

“Was a joke, I’m not.” Billy clears his throat. “Everyone who matters came to see me while I was here.” 

Steve just nods. Frantically, because he hears words that aren’t there. Meaning that couldn’t possibly color his life in broad strokes. He thinks about what Billy’s saying, what he really means. 

Everyone who matters.

“Where are you staying? Like, when you get out,.” Steve mutters. The chord is wrapped around his hand again. He leans against the wall, wincing as the pins from his bulletin board pinch his shoulder blades. “You got a place to crash?”

Billy doesn’t say anything. 

Steve clears his throat. “You aren’t going back, right? You’re not going. Home?”

“To Neil’s?” 

And Steve gets the distinction. Feels it settle like an axe between his first three ribs. “Yeah.”

Billy sighs. “No, fuck that. Figured I’d ask around. See if there are any beds open at RCA.” Recovery Centers of America, that’s. 

“That’s in Indianapolis.”

“Yeah,” Billy says flatly. Steve thinks, distantly, that he sounds almost. Annoyed. “Owens says there’s a car. It’ll take me wherever I want, long as I stay in State.”

“You want to go away?”

“Sure,” Billy says bluntly. “Wouldn’t hurt to leave this place behind, you know. Maybe go somewhere new--”

“Stay with me.”

Steve’s heart is beating in his eyeballs.

The world falls silent. Only for a moment, for as long as it takes for Billy to drop something on the ground and then swear under his breath. His voice shakes, like strands in the wind. “What?”

“At my apartment,” Steve clarifies. He untangles the phone chord which has somehow worked its way to his elbow. “It’s small and shitty, and the couch only has three legs, but.”

Steve closes his eyes and hopes against hope, praying to every god who has ever existed since the beginning of time and everyone who will come after, that Billy can hear every meaning, every hidden word.

“You could.” Steve says softly. “If you wanted to.”

The clacking starts up again, slow and measured. Steve can hear Billy’s breath. The ragged intake of air that sounds painful, like a boy clinging to life in smoke filled memories. Holding on to his hand, saying, I don’t want to die, Steve, please.

It plants Steve’s feet in an ambulance. It tips the string of a tourniquet, bloody and wet with slime in his hands. It makes him remember. 

Pull it tighter, kid, come on.

And.

He’s losing a lot of blood.

And.

Steve, we’re losing him. 

And.

Kid, step away from the body.

Billy clears his throat. “You mean it?” He asks, and.

Steve lets go of a breath. “Of course I do.”

“You’ll get tired of me.” Billy’s voice, it sounds like shattering windows. Steve doesn’t say anything. Can’t respond, because. Nothing in life is more impossible. 

The world falls silent.

Only for a moment, as long as it takes for Steve to close his eyes. “I can’t watch you get in that car and walk away, Billy.”

It’s nothing. Only a part of how he feels. Only a drop of what he wants, but. It sets things in motion again. 

Billy clears his throat. “Alright,” He says. “Give me the address.”

--

Steve wants it to be something other than what it is.

He buys new sheets. Fern green satin, five-hundred thread count and worth a third of what he has in savings. 

They aren’t what he’d usually go for, color or texture, but. The lady at the department store says muted colors are good for preventing overstimulation after trauma and satin is gentle on the skin. Warm, too, which is always a good thing.

Billy says it feels like winter, now. All, I’m a goddamn human snow globe.

Buying sheets on Valentines, it.

Makes Steve hope that this is something else. 

That Billy will insist on putting his new sheets on Steve’s bed instead of the couch in the living room. That they’ll sleep together here, just how they always did in Billy’s hospital bed. 

Chest to chest. 

Billy’s head tucked under Steve’s chin, but.

Mostly Steve being eaten alive by the guilt.

For feeling like this is the start of their lives. That everything before now--living with his parents, fighting monsters, feeling useless in every sense of the word...

All of it was a dream. 

Preparation for the day he would open the front door and find Billy there, waiting.

Steve takes the sheets back to his apartment. He makes up the living room, rearranging the furniture so Billy can have his own space. The couch as a bed and the coffee table as a book shelf.

Billy has a lot of books.

More than anyone Steve’s ever met, more than Robin and Nancy Wheeler combined and Steve doesn’t own any books himself, or. A place to put them. His apartment is the size of a shoebox.

He’ll get rid of the stuff he doesn’t use anymore. 

He’ll make room. 

In his apartment, in his miniscule life, so that Billy has something of his own. 

And maybe after they’re settled in and the bills are paid for the month, Steve will pick up extra shifts at the video store until he can afford buy one. 

A nice, big oak bookshelf for Billy to house his favorites. 

--

He locks himself in the bathroom an hour after moving in.

Which, you know. Throws the evening for a loop. 

He seems happy when Steve opens the front door, dropping his box of books by the shoe rack and toeing his boots off with a grin. 

His body is loose, and. Open, Like he’s comfortable. Billy pokes around the apartment, making fun of the weird shit hanging up on the walls while Steve cooks dinner.

“You gotta get some real art in here, man.” Billy says. It sounds like he’s by the record player, digging through the stack of vinyl's Steve keeps in a shoe box by the T.V. “And some real music, holy shit. How have you been living like this?”

“I’ve been living just fine, fuck you very much.” 

“You have three copies of Waterloo,” Billy snorts. As if that proves something.

He’s crouched by the mosaic of finger paintings left by Holly Wheeler, studying a particularly abstract piece when Steve hands him a glass of sparkling cider.

“Everyone’s gotta have their backup copies of Waterloo, you know, extra in case you gotta dole them out to strangers.” Steve clinks their glasses together. “Cheers.”

Billy swishes the drink around with a lift of his eyebrow. “You trying to get in my pants, Harrington?”

“It’s not alcohol.”

“Why is it bubbly?” Billy accuses, lifting the glass to sniff at it suspiciously. His nose wrinkles, like a bunny rabbit. 

Steve laughs. “It’s sparkling cider. Cherry flavored.”

“Cherry?” Billy snorts, his cheeks glowing pink like little love hearts. “That’s definitely a sex flavor.” 

“It’s a celebration flavor, you dick.” Steve chuckles again. He files through the records he does have, selecting one he thinks Billy can tolerate. “What do you think of Rumours?”

Billy’s wandered to the kitchen. “Hate the activity, dig the album.” He calls.

The sound of cabinets opening and slamming shut echo through the space while Steve figures out the settings for this vinyl, fiddling with the tiny knobs until Songbird filters through at a pace that seems right.

“Ice is in the freezer,” Steve announces, and.

Billy rounds the corner with a bag of chips, happy little smirk on his face. Steve frowns.

“I’m fixing dinner--”

“I haven’t had Doritos in almost a year, Harrington.” Billy says roughly. He rips open the bag, collapsing next to Steve on the floor by the music stand. Billy takes one and licks the cheese dust off the chip, holding the bag out, like. “Want one?”

Steve face hurts from smiling so much. “Nah, I’m good.”

Billy leans back against the wall, rolling his eyes. “What, don’t eat carbs after four p.m. or something?”

And Steve filters through a million answers, all of which make it sound like he’s trying to get laid, so. He settles in next to Billy, letting his eyes fall closed with the sway of the music.

“No, just. Don’t wanna ruin my dinner.”

Billy snorts, bag crinkling loudly as he dives in for another handful. “I could eat twelve bags of this shit and still go ape on whatever rich boy thing you whipped up.” Billy asses him, head cocked to the side. “Bet the cheese makes you fart.” He concludes.

Steve blinks at him. “You’re disgusting--”

“Processed cheese makes everyone shit their pants, man, that’s like.” Billy wipes his hands on Steve’s leg. “Common knowledge.”

Steve makes a noise like a runover chicken, wiping frantically at the trousers he bought at the Goodwill, just for tonight. 

He wets his fingers with spit, wincing and scrubbing at the bright line of orange nacho cheese that stains his corduroy flares. 

The shape of Billy’s fingers is unmistakable. “I’m starting to regret asking you to move in.”

“Thought I was just crashing here until--”

“Now that you’re here I’m no letting you leave,” Steve smiles at him, the weight of it softening when Billy’s cheeks glow pink again. He knocks their shoulders together. “You’re stuck with me.”

Billy falls silent after that.

Shoveling in handful after handful of Doritos and crunching so loudly that Steve can’t get wrapped up in the bass line on the Chain. 

“Dude, you gotta chew so loud?” Steve asks, shoving Billy’s hand away when he reaches to smear nacho dust down the length of Steve’s neck. “My god, you’re a menace.”

“You love it,” Billy giggles, and.

They stare at each other for a moment. Sort of watching the brush of eyelashes against cheekbones while the music plays. 

A backdrop to the start of something Steve doesn’t have a name for.

--

Night falls and Billy doesn’t come out of the bathroom.

The food has been stored, the dishes put away, but the light which escapes like neon strips of gold to kiss the mouth of the hall carpet never flicks off. Never giving way to rest.

Steve thinks about waiting for him. 

He thinks about going to bed, jiggling the handle to make sure Billy’s okay, breaking the door down when two hours turns to three but that seems intrusive. 

If Billy wanted company he would ask. And if he wanted to come out he would, right?

Steve feels like an idiot. 

Pacing back and forth between the living room and the hallway, trying not to make it obvious that he’s right in the thick of gut-wrenching worry. Violent, intrusive images of brain splattered tile fill his mind. 

Billy could be hurt, or. Asleep in the bathtub. Maybe he slipped out the bathroom window while Steve was turning down the couch for him, making the space comfortable.

Maybe he was never here to begin with. Maybe Steve dreamt him up.

Steve paces back and forth, back and forth, wrestling with the urge to call Dr. Owens and ask what he should do, until the clock above the stove reads 11:34 pm and he has no choice but to call it a night.

His knuckles sound like a machine gun when he taps on the door. 

From behind the oak barrier, Billy makes a noise like he was startled out of sleep. Steve can hear him moving around, when he asks, “You okay? Been in there for a few hours.”

Billy opens the door.

His eyes are red and puffy, cheeks a little flushed, like.

“Have you been crying?” Steve doesn’t want him to cry. Tears and hallow feelings, they have no place in the stretch of nightfall that Steve has built for them. 

He feels himself reaching for Billy on impulse, trying to pull their bodies together, but Billy steps back. 

Away. 

To make room for Steve in the bathroom or to make a run for it, Steve isn’t sure. He knots his fingers together for safe keeping. 

“Of course not, don’t be fucking.” Billy’s voice cracks right down the middle, like. A loaf of bread that has been in the oven for far too long. His eyes are glassy when he looks up, and.

Distant.

Steve feels like an asshole. He leans against the door jam. “I can call Dr. Owens, if you want.” 

Billy stares at him. “Why would I want that?”

“You just seem--”

“I seem like what, Steve?” Billy spits. “You gonna psychoanalyze me too, huh?”

Steve grits his teeth against the urge to. Fight back. “It’s just when I started getting the couch ready, you seemed.” Steve runs a hand through his hair, choosing his next words carefully. “Nervous? Afraid, maybe, just a little. Which is alright. It can be scary sleeping alone in a new place, and--”

“I’m not five years old, Harrington, I can handle a sleepover at my friends house.” Billy snarls. He pushes against Steve’s chest until there are rivers between them. Mountains and oceans.

It’s the first time since Starcourt that Billy seems.

Like himself.

The old self, the one that used his fists to keep wandering eyes from getting too close. Figuring him out. If Steve were a younger man he’d fall for it, hook and line, but. 

He knows better.

Six months and a lifetime with Billy Hargrove have taught him a thing or two. He nods, stepping back down the hallway. 

Billy’s eyes track him. Wide and nervous and so, so blue. 

“‘M going to sleep, dude.”  Steve waves a thumb over his shoulder, taking a deep, needed breath. He calls over his shoulder to give Billy some space. “Come to bed when you’re ready. I’ll leave the light on.”

Billy’s footsteps don’t pass his bedroom door until Steve is settled under the covers.

--

He’s starting to think Billy won’t show.

The t.v. is on in the living room, tinny sounds of Yogi Bear filtering through the wall and Steve wonders if he made a mistake in assuming, that.

Look.

Just because they slept together, like, actually slept together  while Billy was in the hospital doesn’t mean anything. 

Maybe Billy is just scraping the bottom of his energy reserves. Maybe he’s getting to the end of the rope when it comes to his friendship with Steve, and didn’t want to move in but had to.

For lack of better options, and like. 

Income and shit--

“Scoot over.” Billy says.

Steve jumps, poking his head out from under the covers to glare wildly at him. “When did you--”

“Move over.” Billy insists, eyes burning like flame in the darkness.

Steve does, all, “Jesus Christ, you’re just a little ray of sunshine, aren’t ya?” But there are butterflies in his tummy. Gently flapping wings that turn into stinging wasps when Billy manhandles his way into the bed, yanking one of the extra pillows out from under Steve’s legs to punch into shape on his side of the bed.

Steve squawks. “I was using that.”

“It was under your knee caps, dork.” Billy mutters, bullying his way into Steve’s space like he did so many times on warm summer nights at Hawkins General, stiff as a board on his government issued mattress.

Steve’s bed isn’t anything like that, it’s like. A marshmallow. Swallowing the two of them whole when Billy presses his face into the length of Steve’s neck, legs coming up to pin him in place.

“I got weak ankles.” Steve pouts. 

Billy doesn’t say anything as he goes limp and heavy on top of his human pillow. Steve instantly feels like he’s over heating; the guy’s a fucking furnace, but.

Billy’s eyelashes are tickling his collar bones.

His breath fans out over Steve’s skin, like cool breezes on summer nights, and. When he starts crying Steve is there.

Like always, Steve sings him to sleep.

[leahbirch]

BIG MOUTH SEASON 5 THOUGHTS bc whooo boy do I have a lot:

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

Ok honestly I felt like there was just way too many hormone monsters to keep track of this season. With the usual hormone monsters along with the love bugs, hate worms, shame wizard etc. it felt super overwhelming. That might’ve been the point but idk it was just a lot

That being said the love bugs are really interesting additions. I’m wondering if they’re gonna be a permanent fit alongside the regular hormone monsters. It seems that way & I don’t mind if they are bc I enjoy them!

The Lola and Jay storyline was so exhausting 😭 I’m glad they didn’t get back together in the end but I hated how they always got back together and immediately broke up 3 minutes later IT WAS JUST PAINFUL TO WATCH

That goes for Jay and Matthew too. God I have so much to talk about regarding them. I LOVE jatthew but I hate how it happened. Matthew suddenly taking an interest in Jay and gaslighting Aiden made me so mad. I doubt we’re gonna see Aiden again but I really felt sorry for him, He deserved better than what he got.

Their relationship felt extremely rushed. I hated how they got together and then the very next scene with them was them breaking up? Then after that was them getting together again

I did like how Matthew took Jay in and is genuinely someone who cares about him and won’t blow up at him *cough*. Also the scene where Jay was assuming that Matthew was joking about liking him was heartbreaking. Please don’t make these two break up they’re good for each other

Lola is so impulsive and petty but I can’t help but feel sympathy for her :( I’m hoping that Rodney becomes her caretaker bc this girl needs some real parentage

The Christmas episode was really funny but it honestly wasn’t needed, it could have been another episode that spaced out the plotlines but I digress

I loved Bernie & it saddens me that we probably won’t see her again 😔 Her and Andrew were perfect for each other

SPEAKING OF ANDREW I LOVED HIS GROWTH THIS SEASON it’s crazy how he was somehow the only kid that I didn’t constantly cringe at (other than the creepy teacher plot)

SAPPHIC JESSI SAPPHIC JESSI!!! Her relationship with Ali was so touching and speaking as a bi woman captured the feelings perfectly! It’s scary and it’s exciting & it felt like I was looking through my own eyes at that age. I remember being so scared but thrilled when I realized that I liked girls too. I applaud the writers because you can tell they put so much care and thought into it. I seriously hope they go more into her sexuality next season!

AGHH I LOVED THE BIRCHES!! Seeing Elliot finally show an emotion other than “I love my kids and pleasuring my wife” WAS SOOO REFRESHING. It really showed that him and Diane had more depth and I really love their relationship

Leah and Val’s relationship was oddly sweet? Them being open and honest with each other about what they wanted when it came to sex wasn’t something I expected, but it was nice to see a show talk about how important it is for sex to be a good experience for both partners, not just one.

I’m glad to see a different side of Val other than “Jay’s asshole brother” & it really feels like he’s changing himself to be better. I’m hoping that him and Leah don’t end up breaking up considering that most relationships in this show don’t seem to last but we can only see what happens

I didn’t expect to want to throw things at my TV because of Missy BUT WHEW she really went off the deep end this season. Her anger towards Jessi & Ali was justified but her actions weren’t. I’m just so happy and glad that she improved herself in the end!

I’m getting kinda tired of the Nick plot line every season being “Nick is an asshole who ruins all his relationships and learns to be a better person in the end” because it just seems like he always goes back on it. I’m hoping that next season will be different but who knows

It really was a bummer for them to develop Devon so much only to have him go back to being Devin’s boyfriend 😔 I really thought there would be a plot line with him and Missy but it seems like it was quickly dropped after the bacne scene

NICK KROLL. THAT IS ALL

Overall this season was bumpy, but it’s probably the best one yet imo!

[tuanyiems]

The Spirit of Christmas

Jaebum x Reader holiday!au, roommate!au words: 2.8k

Plot: You are sugar and spice and everything nice and your roommate, Jaebum is coal—at least, that’s how it seems at first glance. With the pandemic and Christmas Eve coming to an end, maybe it’s not just Jaebum that needs a little Christmas spirit. 

a/n – guess whose household got covid in time for Christmas? 2020 hates me lol anyways, I said I was going to post a Jackson holiday au but that was taking too long, I’ll post it next Christmas lmao here is jb and his kitties in the meantime <3 happy holidays folks, stay safe and merry and I’ll meet you in the new year

“What is that?” Jaebum looks at you incredulously as you carry an armful of green into his living room. You let it fall onto the floor, much to his annoyance and his cats’ pleasure. Nora flops onto her belly, rubbing against the green sticks.

“It’s our Christmas tree!” you grin, running your fingers through the fur of her belly and earning a nip to your fingers. You giggle at the tickle of her teeth on your thumb. Despite her feisty disposition, Nora very rarely ever bites for real.

“That’s a pile of plastic,” your roommate plops himself on the couch, feet thrown over the coffee table.

Your mouth twists as you push the ottoman closer to him with a gentle push of your fuzzy sock-clad feet. Jaebum glances at the bright yellow ottoman you brought into the apartment when he told you about a million times that the thing was a waste of money (and a neon eyesore). He then looks over at your feet looking awfully like a red stocking, and he truly does mean the awful part. He keeps his feet on the coffee table and leans back into the couch, arms behind his head.

“It’s a Christmas tree,” you emphasize, lifting his legs with a huff onto the ottoman. You dust your hands before placing them onto your hips. “And you’re going to help me put it up!”

He frowns, looking into your eager eyes. “Remind me why I moved in with you again?”

“Because I had a spare room and you needed someone willing to live with five cats,” you answer easily like you always do. You throw one of the plastic limbs at him. “Now come on, let’s get festive!”

“Your festive and my festive are very different,” Jaebum sighs, but he gets up anyways.

“Noted,” you chuckle, clearing a space on the floor for him to sit beside you.

You grab your phone to turn on your playlist, lovingly titled “HO! HO! HO!iday Cheer” and immediately you can see Jaebum’s face sour at the familiar jingle as Mariah Carey’s voice echoes through the room. 

“Oh, we’re going with my festive, just so you know,” you warn him belatedly. He blows at his bangs, shoulders slumping in surrender.

“Let’s just get this over with before my ears start bleeding,” he grumbles, grabbing hold of a couple plastic limbs.

“That’s the spirit!” you cheer, slapping him on the back. You don’t miss the small twitch of his lips.

You had a lot of hopes for this year, all of which pretty much went down the drain. That was life though, you rolled with the punches. But you certainly did not expect that when you opened your home to Jaebum and his five cats, that just two weeks after, he would be your only social life for the next nine months (if you didn’t count your biweekly grocery outings). 

And while you have nothing against Jaebum—in fact, you absolutely love his five cats—it doesn’t take a genius to tell that the two of you are very different. Jaebum’s black on black fashion, motorcycle riding, sterling silver face piercing-self, next to your pastel, soft knit cardigan-wearing, always smelling like bread and daisies…the two of you are a walking metaphorical neon sign flashing “opposites!”

“Why does that matter? He’s going to be my roommate, not my husband!” you had shrugged Jinyoung’s warning without a second thought. 

That memory would come back to bite you during the first three months of shared living, for every time he woke you up from his random 3am showers or played horror movies in the living room right before your bedtime, and especially whenever he responded to your silly jokes with a deadpan face or worse, his unrelenting despondency. 

Over time though, you learned how to read him—like how he was nicer after a cup of coffee or how he has trouble sleeping but always manages to fall asleep on the living room couch when you’re baking bread in the open kitchen. You’ve learned that when Jaebum scowls, it’s mostly just a reflex and actually, if you can catch a reflection whenever he’s looking away, usually he’s smiling. And although he will grumble about it the entire way through, if you ask for help, he will always be there (even when he tells you he won’t). 

Maybe you both express yourselves differently. You say “I love you” and he will ask “Did you eat yet?” You bake cupcakes and have teatime on the porch with the older neighbors, Jaebum installs cameras and buys extra essentials whenever you go grocery shopping together. You fill the windowsills with abandoned plants and bring them back to life, Jaebum leaves cat food and old blankets in your backyard for the strays. 

No one else understands when you tell them you think you and Jaebum might be the same person, but they haven’t seen him the way you have over the last nine months. Beneath his hardboiled exterior is a sensitive soul who loves quietly and cares a lot.

“There’s no point in putting this up,” Jaebum grumbles as he fits another limb into the trunk of the tree. “No one’s even gonna see it, it’s already Christmas Eve. Anyways, the Christmas party is canceled.”

“You will see it. I will see it,” you hand him another part. “Isn’t that reason enough?”

“It’s a waste of electricity,” he adds, not even glancing at you.

“The lights I bought have a timer!”

“And then it’ll be more work taking it down again.”

With a pout, you stand up and Jaebum turns his head in surprise.

“Where are you going, it almost done?”

Your frown easily twists back into a smile, seeing the way he hurries to put the last limb into the tree. “Time for the decorations!”

Jaebum rolls his eyes and looks down again and you can just tell he’s hiding another smile. You hurry off into your bedroom to grab the supplies.

“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas!” you sing as you reenter the living room and Michael Bublé’s voice rings from your phone. Twirling in an oversized pajama pullover (which might be Jaebum’s that got lost in your laundry three months back), you settle the box of ornaments on the floor. “I’m so excited to show you!”

He looks at you blankly, waiting for you to continue.

You squeeze your shoulders together, excitement barely contained as you reach into the box and pull out an emerald velvet pouch.

“It came in the mail just in time!” you grin, clutching the bag to your chest. 

He lifts his brow at you, but the rise of his cheekbones gives him away.

“Ta da!” you squeal, pulling round orbs out of the bag. “One of my co-workers has a side business making custom ornaments and I got one for each of the cats!”

“Woah,” Jaebum takes one of the ornaments into his palms, eyeing it closely.

You bite your lip, holding in a satisfied giggle lest you ruin the moment. He sits quietly, admiring each ornament of the cats. When he gets to the last one, you pull out one more orb from the bag, holding it up by its gold, glittering string.

“And I got one of us too,” you say quietly, showing it off to him. 

He slides closer, nose practically touching the ornament. It’s a simple, clear bulb and inside are your figurine versions, dusted with glittering snow around a Christmas tree.

Finally, Jaebum breaks into a smile, eyes disappearing into crescents. You find yourself letting out a breath you had been holding.

“They even got my cheek piercings,” he chuckles, pointing to the tiny orb. “And your derpy smile too!”

“Hey, my smile isn’t derpy!” you whine, smiling.

“It’s cute,” he adds and you falter, wondering if he means the ornament or your smile. But in true Jaebum fashion, he doesn’t explain himself and turns back to the cat ornaments. “This is really well made.”

You ignore the pulsing in your chest, nodding your head. “Yeah, I told her she should raise her prices.”

He gets up from the floor and offers you his hand. “Let’s put them up.”

Cheeks flushing, you let him help you up. 

“Do you think it’s okay though? The cats might knock them down,” his brows furrow with worry.

You chuckle, grabbing the ornament from his hand and hang it off the tree. “Pretty things are meant to be shown and if it breaks…then we’ll get new ones!”

Jaebum rolls his eyes at your optimism but a small smile stretches across his face. “I think your co-worker would be offended to hear how you treat her work.”

You shrug, crouching down to Nora and Odd as both cats swat at the ornament hanging precariously off your finger. “Art should not belong behind glass walls. They’re meant to be seen and enjoyed, like your music!”

You giggle as Odd jumps into your lap, pawing at the shiny orb as you lift it out of reach each time. You miss the way Jaebum looks at you.

“Okay, less playing and more decorating,” he replies, throwing a string of gold tinsel at your head, much to the cats’ delight. You laugh at their excitement, glancing at Jaebum’s reddened ears.

Humming to the Christmas jingles, you stand alongside Jaebum, dressing the plastic tree in glittering ornaments and lights. Once in a while, you even catch Jaebum swaying to the music when he thinks you aren’t paying attention.

“Aaand,” Jaebum lifts the shining star from the box to you and you rise onto your tiptoes.

“Done!” You cheer, placing the star on the top of the tree. You clap gleefully, elbowing Jaebum to follow. He gives you three limp claps before you give up and crouch down to Odd instead, forcing the kitty to clap paws.

“Okay, can I go to my room now?”

“Not yet!”

He groans, plopping onto the couch. “What else is there left to put up?”

You pout, hands on your hip. “We can’t have a Christmas tree without the Christmas tree lighting ceremony!”

He sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “There’s a ceremony?”

“Of course there is!” you laugh, rushing towards the light switch. You flick the switch without warning, covering the living room in darkness.

With only the light from the streetlamp peeking through the windows, the falling snow is even more visible. The sight fills you with childlike excitement.

“Are you ready?” you whisper, walking over to the switch for the Christmas lights.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“We need to count down,” Your lips jut out at his indifference as you eye his dark figure. In the darkness, you can just barely see his features, but you imagine he is rolling his eyes at you.

Just as you are about to give in, you hear him sigh loudly, “Five,”

You break into a smile, “Four, three, two,”

“One…”

“Merry Christmas!” you sing, twisting the knob and flooding the room with small twinkling lights. 

But you don’t look at the tree. Instead, your gaze remains in Jaebum’s direction and you watch as the lights illuminate his face. And you are pleased to see he is smiling. You know it’s just the reflection of the lights, but he looks like he has stars in his eyes.

Sensing your gaze, Jaebum looks at you and frowns, embarrassed. “What?”

You smile, cheeks warming. “Your cheek piercing looks like it’s twinkling from here.”

“Don’t be weird,” he scowls. “Are we done now?”

“Do you want hot chocolate?” you offer, moving over to sit next to him on the couch. 

He shakes his head, getting up. “I’m going to bed.”

Chuckling, you let him leave, watching as the cats follow behind him. “Merry Christmas, Jaebum!”

“It’s not Christmas yet!” he yells back before you hear the sound of his bedroom door closing shut.

With a quiet sigh, you grab your phone from the coffee table and turn off the music. The silence feels even quieter with only the lights from the Christmas tree flickering around the room. Without anyone else in the room, your energy quickly depletes.

Outside, the snow whips by in flurries.

This is not how you imagined you’d be spending your favorite holiday, although the festive lights do make you feel a little bit better.

You wanted the Christmas gatherings though.

You were a family person through and through.

You missed it all—the packed house, cooking dinner with the aunties, playing board games with the little cousins, throwing said boardgame across the room when you rage quit, making up for it with freshly baked cookies that you’d nibble on at midnight while opening gifts by the Christmas tree. You even missed the nagging from your parents, asking when you’ll get a boyfriend and settle down.

Snuggling closer into the arm of the couch, you hug yourself. 

It’s colder this year. 

Emptier. 

“So, you turn off the Christmas music after I leave?” You jump in surprise at Jaebum’s voice entering the room again. He takes a seat next to you on the couch. “You listen to it just to annoy me, don’t you?”

You blink back, wondering why he returned. “Did you forget something?”

He shrugs, leaning back into the couch and gazes at the Christmas tree. “It’s my first Christmas tree, I thought I should look at it a little longer.”

“This is your first Christmas tree?” you look at him in surprise.

He nods nonchalantly. “Never really celebrated Christmas.”

You sink into your seat, thigh touching his. “What a year to start celebrating.”

“Only because you have me hostage.”

You chuckle softly. “Well, I’m glad you had no choice but to be stuck with me. Would’ve been a lonely year without you here.”

“Hmm,” he looks at you thoughtfully. “Never pegged you as the lonely type.”

“The holidays can do that.”

“Then just think like me, pretend it’s any other day.”

You sigh, leaning into Jaebum. He doesn’t scoot away like he normally does. Instead, you find his arm resting around your shoulder.

“I don’t want this to be any other day though. This whole year has been a blur of any other days.” Your lips jut out in a pout as you look up at your roommate. “I know I must sound like a child, but I want Christmas.”

Jaebum laughs softly. You can feel the rumble of his chest.

“Cute,” he mutters, and you flush. His arm around you pulls you tighter. “Then, do you want to open your present at midnight or in the morning?”

Your eyes widen and he laughs at your expression once more. “You got me a present?”

“Well, yeah,”

“But…you said you don’t celebrate Christmas.”

“But you do,” he answers easily, looking at the tree again. “And anyways, if you’re gonna make me do all the work, I might as well celebrate the whole thing, right?”

You grin, poking his chest. “Admit you had fun tonight, Jaebum.”

He shrugs, smiling. “The ornaments were cool. I’ll be the DJ next time though.”

“Deal,” you beam, holding out your pinky. You giggle when he looks at your outstretched pinky with an arched brow. You keep your hand raised though. “Come on!”

He lets out a loud breath but eventually curls his pinky around yours.

Your heart warms, seeing how big his pinky measures around yours. It’s why when he moves to let go, you keep your pinky curled.

Laughing at his confused frown, you show him your thumb. “You have to seal the promise, Jaebum!”

“You’re an actual five-year-old,” he groans.

“Yes, I am,” you grin, eyes curling into crescents. His tone doesn’t faze you. From up close, you can confirm that there are indeed, stars in his eyes. They twinkle in amusement at your gesture and his lips lift once more when his thumb presses against yours.

And this time, he doesn’t pull away.

Pursing your lips shyly, you let your hand fall to his lap.

Looking back up at him, his gaze is soft on you. You pretend not to notice the way his fingers thread around yours.

“To answer your question, I’d like my present at midnight.”

“As you wish. Then shall we make hot chocolate and watch a movie until then?”

“Sounds like the perfect Christmas,” you tell him softly.

“Okay, Joker or The Dark Knight? You can pick.”

You grin, squeezing his hand. “We’re gonna watch Home Alone, Jaebum.”

“You’re terrible,” he feigns.

Chuckling, you let go of his hand and rise from the couch. “I’ll go make the hot chocolate.”

Jaebum grabs your hand again and you turn back curiously.

“Hm?” 

His thumb brushes the back of your hand gently.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Jaebum.”

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 22

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, smut

; Word Count: 6.4k

; Warnings: Brief mention of antidepressant side effects, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, sex toy use, insinuated sex

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: I’ve half proofread this but I hate reading through smut again so...I hope you enjoy it all :) please reblog if you did and leave me feedback in the form of comments, reviews or other asks! I’m always happy to read your thoughts on the Flower couple and their evolving relationship <3

; Flower Masterpost

-

“Okay so...I know it probably doesn’t look like I’ve got you all that much,” You give him a disbelieving stare before eyeing the small pile of books and games he’d already gifted you. “But I got you one more. And I had to hide this because it’s very heavy and I didn’t want you accidentally kicking it and opening it up or anything.”

Watching as he stands up, his cheerfully festive Christmas Simpsons sweats looking very out of place on his tattooed body, he darts off to your bedroom. Frowning, you lean back to try and see what he’s doing, wondering how’d he’d managed to hide something from you in your own room.

He was completely lying because he’d gotten you everything you wanted and more. The new Final Fantasy game, the new Villainous expansion, some of the books you’d been wanting for a while and a few Eeveelution plushies to finish off your set. So what on earth would he have gotten?

It’s even more confusing when he comes back and you see the size of the box in his hands, elegantly wrapped in silver wrapping paper. There’s a pretty fabric bow on top with a tag on it and your brow rises when you see how hard he’s struggling with it.

That brow goes even higher when he sits down with a grunt, the box dropping onto the floor with a heavy thunk. Eyes widening, you stare at it before looking at him in amusement.

“Holy shit Hoseok, what did you do? Kill someone?” He gives you a smirk before cuddling up to you on the floor, gesturing to the wrapped gift with more than a little excitement. You welcome his warmth and idly poke his thigh as you eye the present.

“Nope. You’ll love it though, I promise.” Giving him a suspicious look, you look at the tag first and read it. Much to his amusement. Apparently he wasn’t one of those people who particularly cared about reading the tags, which had horrified you when you found out. Not that you’d written him any sweet notes or anything, but still.

Unsurprisingly, the tag doesn’t have some love filled sonnet on it, just your name and ‘love, Hoseok’. But he’d obviously shown his love through the careful presents he’d bought you, each one something that you loved and adored. 

Smiling, you carefully began to peel away the wrapping paper where it has been folded, tugging at the tape until it came away gently. You feel Hoseok’s laugh vibrate through his body before actually hearing it, causing you to look at him in confusion.

“God, you open presents so neatly. It’s like watching my sister all over again,” His smile stays warm, growing even more affectionate. “She used to open presents like you do, as if afraid that you’ll ruin the wrapping paper or something. I don’t have the patience.”

“Gee...I hadn’t noticed.” Turning your head to stare firmly at the bag of torn wrapping paper next to you both, the remnants of what had remained of what you’d painstakingly wrapped. 

He snorts before poking your side and nodding with his head towards the present that you’d only begun opening. “Okay Miss Sarcastic, please proceed with the present opening before you cut yourself on your wit instead of the paper.”

You do as asked, or instructed rather, and carefully peel back the paper. As soon as you have a glimpse of the box cover though, all care is gone as you gasp loudly and quickly tear the rest off. Staring down at the colourful box, you take in the words ‘Gloomhaven’ along the top before squealing with excitement and bouncing in place.

“Oh my god! Hoseok! Oh my god! What the fuck? This game is so expensive!” You’re beyond happy to get it though, as if your reaction wasn’t obvious and the amusement in Hoseok’s face is more than apparent. But you still feel a little guilty at the fact he’s bought you this alongside everything else so far. The two of you haven’t even been dating a year and you’re already feeling spoilt.

He wraps his arms around your waist before kissing your cheek sweetly, watching as you pull the rest of the paper from beneath the box and toss it to the side. It’s only when you go to lift the box that you let out a deep groan of surprise and effort, turning to look at him with wide eyes.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, holy shit. This thing was 10 fucking kilograms. I feel like I almost died bringing it here. And that’s with the freaking elevator. Open it up, I wanna see what’s in this damn thing.” Laughing, you let him turn the box upside down and use the scissors that had been brought over earlier to slice through the clear stickers that were keeping the lid attached. 

Kasumi was currently playing with a ball of scrunched wrapping paper that Hoseok had thrown to her earlier. She had, obviously, been thoroughly enthralled with it and completely ignored the toys she’d been bought by Hoseok and you for her Christmas presents. He’d been thoroughly amused by that but you’d just shrugged and said this was what cats did.

Between the two of you, you manage to get the lid off the box that feels like it’s been vacuum packed in and sit back to admire the interior contents. Carefully, you lift the map board out and open it up, scanning over the intricate map with interest while Hoseok lets out a low whistle.

“Fuck, there’s a lot of shit in this box.” He pulls out a wirebound book along with a rule book, placing them on his lap before flicking through them with interest. Holding up the wire book, he looks at you with wide eyes. “Dude, this is the scenario book...it has 96 scenarios in it.”

Grinning at him, you peer over his shoulder and take them in before carefully taking the book from his hands and placing it on top of the now folded map.

“Yep. It may be expensive but you get your money’s worth at least, right? And you can’t look at it, it’ll spoil the game for you. It’s like an RPG game for a PC or console. You’re only supposed to find out what’s happening as you’re playing, so don’t go spoiling it. And apparently we can only only look at a certain number of characters and stuff. We unlock those through the scenarios.” Reaching in, you pull out one tiny box with what reminds you of a singularity on the top, opening it carefully and pulling out the tiny figure inside.

“This is one of the starter ones, a spellweaver. I want to be this one.” Hoseok takes it from you and looks over it equally as carefully before shrugging, his expression giving away that he was no idea what you’re on about. Giggling, you kiss his cheek and place it back into the box.

“You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?” He glares at you as you begin to place everything carefully inside. It impresses you how well everything fits in, and you already feel some dread at the prospect of trying to fit everything inside after a few scenarios.

“I’ll have you know that I played and loved all the Dark Souls games.” Biting your lip, you try to contain your amusement as you slide the lid back on and simply admire the game with reverence. 

“Oh yeah? Is that because it’s all gothic and hardcore. Did you git gud?” Your teasing of him instantly gets a repercussion as he begins to tickle you furiously, your laughs loud in the apartment and causing Kasumi to pause with her own wide eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah I did git gud. Actually, I got so gud that I finished all of them multiple times. What was it you told me once? That you don’t like those games because they’re too hard for you? So...who’s the one who needs to git gud now?” He says, pausing his fingers from his relentless assault and giving you a smug look. Breathing heavily, you let out a quiet laugh before tracing along one of the tattoos on his arms.

“Me, apparently.” Pausing, you take him in before smiling with happiness, your stomach bubbling with joy. “Thank you. For buying me that, it’s really expensive and I can’t believe you bought me it! I’ve been contemplating it for ages.”

“I know. I’ve seen you look at it online often enough. Got me a little stressed when you almost bought it the other week. But I like playing games with you, I’ve decided. So...I got this one so that we can play it together. It can be our game.” Sitting back up, he reaches out and pulls you up with him as you stare at him with wide eyes.

Logically, you’d known that he’d probably have to play it with you as there was no way that Chungha or Soyeon would be interested in something as in depth and long lasting as Gloomhaven. But hearing him say that he’s spent well over $100 on a board game just to play it with you was something else entirely.

It makes your stomach go funny, just like he always made it, and you feel the fluttering of almost anxiety in your throat, making it a tiny bit harder to breathe. Not because you were upset or anything, but you just didn’t really know how to process the love you’d been blessed with from one Jung Hoseok. It was hard for your head to really comprehend that he genuinely meant every word he said.

“Are you sure? It’s supposed to be intense. And long.” Hoseok smirks at you, moving closer until you’re almost nose to nose. His warm breath, smelling faintly of the mint ice cream he’d eaten for dessert at his parents after Christmas dinner, fanning your face. You should be disgusted, but you’re not.

“I know something that can be intense and long tonight. And I wouldn’t have bought it otherwise.” Rolling your eyes at his obvious innuendo, you try hard to stop the smile that wants to break free at hearing him obviously trying to initiate sex. The two of you had agreed to spend the mornings at your respective parents' houses before meeting up here, opening the presents you’d bought each other and spending Christmas evening together for the first time.

Looking over his elegant features, you can’t help but smile as happiness fills you at the sight of him. He’s not paying attention to you anymore, instead having reached over to take one of the books you’d gifted him earlier. 

Hoseok had begun to read biography and memoir style books lately, enjoying a wide array of topics. As such, you’d gotten him the entire back catalogue of Mick Wall biographies, which meant he had a whole stack of metal and rock n roll band biographies to go through.

At the moment, he was scanning over the back of the Metallica book with his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration. The other pile included Lemmy, Guns n Roses and more. You’d be lying if you said that you knew half of the bands or whatever that were in the books but you knew that he’d love them all anyway.

And he had, his face lighting up with excitement when he’d unwrapped each one. It had been a worry that he’d find them boring or something, but instead you’d been given many kisses of thanks. Which had been rather delightful, you would admit.

You’d found it particularly stressful buying him presents for Christmas; panicking that he wouldn’t like whatever you bought or having anxiety that he would already have it. He’d given you a few hints to make it easier for you but you’d struggled over it still. As much as you loved him, and as much time as you spent with him, it was hard to figure out what he’d like.

Hoseok loved his music, but he already had everything he wanted in regards to that. There were no concerts coming up that he didn’t already have tickets to, he bought whatever books he wanted to read and he bought whatever films he wanted. Given he spent so much time at yours, you couldn’t even consider something bigger as he wouldn’t get any use out of it as he spent so much time with you and there wasn’t space in your apartment.

Why was buying presents for men always so much harder? And on top of that, you’d had to dissuade him from buying anything that you’d already bought him. Because he was like a cat whose eyes went wide when he saw something he wanted. That had been the case with the James Bond Blu-Ray collection you’d gotten him as well.

It was limited edition, and he’d spotted it online a week after you’d bought it. It had taken some careful persuasion to make sure he didn’t buy it, along with a lot of internal eye rolling.

“Did you like everything?” You don’t realise that there’s a touch of insecurity in your voice, a hint of uncertainty that you hadn’t done it right. This was the first time you’d ever had a boyfriend over the Christmas period, so you weren’t sure if you’d done it right. 

Looking up at you with wide eyes, he makes a small noise of question before looking back at his pile of gifts. It now looks smaller than yours and you get warm with embarrassment but he gives you such a bright smile. 

“Yes, thank you! Got everything I wanted and stuff I didn’t know I wanted until now.” He leans back against the couch, giving you another smile before reaching out to you and pulling you into him. Besides the books and the Bond collection, the only other thing he’d gotten was a bottle of his cologne, which wasn’t cheap. 

So his pile might not look like much, but it was actually a big chunk of money. It made you feel a little ashamed that your gifts were obviously more expensive, but you reasoned it away to yourself. Hoseok earnt more than you, a lot more than you. You had worked within your means for him while also buying for your friends and family.

“Are you happy with what you’ve got?” Hoseok asks, tilting his head to look at you with expectant brows. You give him a sweet smile of your own before nodding and hugging him even tighter.

There’s a moment of pause before you move your head to kiss him, lips gentle against his for a few seconds. He doesn’t hesitate any further though, moving his hand to cup your cheek and you relax into the kiss, almost sighing into his mouth contentedly. 

You’d shyly admitted to him the other week that you really liked kissing him. He’d thought it was amusing that you’d told him that so sweetly, but you’d been particularly awkward about it because you’d never had makeout sessions as a teenager. And it hadn’t been fantastic in college, but you got the urge to just kiss Hoseok for hours on end like an excitable teenager.

It was pretty easy to guess that Hoseok found it endearing, and you’d found he’d been indulging you more often with kisses and just taking the time to let you feel like a loved up teenager once more. You were positive it was no great hardship on his behalf, but you were surprised that he controlled himself well enough that it rarely resulted in sex. 

He was indulging you right now and you hummed contentedly, enjoying the casual and lazy way he was kissing you. The smell of the Christmas cookie candle you’d started earlier and the gentle twinkling of the lights on the tree you’d decorated with Hoseok at the start of December make it all feel more...homey. Which you don’t want to think about too much right now; you’re too concerned with enjoying your Christmas kisses to care too much.

Finally though, he pulls away slowly and the tiny whine you let out has him laughing against you. “Calm down, you can have plenty more later.” 

Shifting away from him slightly, you push out your lower lip in a pout before giving him big puppy eyes. A year ago, the very idea of acting like this around him, or anyone, would have been beyond humiliating. But you felt comfortable with him, and you felt that this was fast becoming part of the language of your relationship with Hoseok.

He did the same to you when he wanted something. And it worked just as well on you as it did on him.

Hoseok smiles, giving you another quick kiss before gently rubbing his nose against yours. The look in his eyes is no longer sweet and soft, but instead a little more intense. Irises darkening ever so slightly while his pupils widen and you narrow your own at him, recognising that look now.

“Someone’s horny.” You mutter, causing him to smirk. He disentangles himself from you and stands, gesturing to you to stay there before disappearing off into the bedroom. Frowning, you try to see around the couch to get an idea of what he’s getting but when he comes back, whatever it is is hidden firmly behind his back.

“What are you doing?” 

“Well, we bought this and never got round to using it. So...I figure that we can see if it’s worth the money. A little...Christmas orgasm? Ever had one of those?” He smirks at you, brows wiggling as he shows you the glass dildo and bottle of lube.

Almost instantly, you go all hot with embarrassment at the sight of him just waving that around so casually. He’d been disappointed a few weeks back to discover you had no sex toys, apparently they were fun for couples too, and so he’d sat with you and ordered some. You say he ordered some, but it seemed most of them were for you.

Which had confused you as to why he was so determined to use them all on you instead of getting something for himself. But he’d just waved off your questions, telling you that he got pleasure out of seeing you pleasured and there was plenty of time to explore stuff for him in the future.

You also got the idea that he still wasn’t entirely happy with the fact that the successful orgasm ratio was leaning very heavily in his favour. He’d given you plenty through oral and with his fingers, eventually figuring out what made you tick while having sex until he could successfully bring you to the brink if you were in the mood.

And then you’d started the antidepressants, and your sexual libido had plummeted. Not only had you shown no interest in intiating sex, though you were fine if he wanted it, it had become almost impossible to orgasm. Even by yourself you’d struggled, unable to fall over that precipice into the pit of pleasure to the point that you’d cried in frustration over it.

As such, he hadn’t pushed the issue too hard because he knew it was a sore point, but you’d slowly discovered that it was possible to orgasm still. It just required...a lot of work. When you’d shyly discussed this with Hoseok, he’d taken it almost as a challenge. Hence the sex toys.

The dildo he’d set on the table was made of clear glass, a pretty centre of pink and blue that swirled around each other and a flared base that allowed it to stand on its own. You eyed it carefully as he sat next to you, a smirk on his face. It was one that you hadn’t used yet and you found yourself squirming with the knowledge he was going to use that on you.

A thin shaft met a bulbous head, the tip reminding you of a closed flower bud. Reaching out, you ran your fingers down the glass slowly, noting how smooth and firm it felt. Along with being a lot cooler than you’d anticipated.

“You up for it? I figure...I can try this on you, see if I can get you to orgasm.” Lips twisting, you take the bottle of lube from him and place it on the table as well, carefully pushing the gifts away to make space. You were positive he’d noticed this too, but you didn’t want to vocalise it.

“What about you?” Hoseok snorted in amusement, giving you a quick kiss before running his hands down your waist.

“Okay, first of all. I love doing things with you sexually. So if that’s all that happened then I’ll just get acquainted with my hand in the shower later. Otherwise...well...it is Christmas so...” Shifting, you bite your lip before looking down at your hands and then reaching for his.

“I think we can work something out.” Despite how bold the words are, they sound a lot shyer with your soft tone. Especially the way you avoid his eyes and he just laughs, kissing your temple affectionately before playfully tugging at your leggings.

You resist for just a moment before relenting, shifting awkwardly and laughing as you both struggle to peel the tight fabric from your legs. There’s a particular moment where Hoseok accidentally bumps his forehead against yours when he leans forward, trying to tug them from underneath the rounds of your ass. 

“Ow.” He mumbles and you coo to him, trying not to laugh as you gently rub at his forehead. Hoseok finally pulls them off you, taking your socks with him before moving groaning at the fact he hadn’t managed to get your underwear off too.

Now you can’t help but laugh at the way his lips automatically pout, leaning forward to peck at them before wiggling your underwear off yourself. Almost instantly he’s distracted, eyes focused between your legs and you bite your lip in amusement at how easy it is to get his attention when it involves sex or you naked.

You’d never thought you’d be someone who drew that kind of distraction in men and it makes you feel simultaneously powerful and shy. But you don’t get a chance to think any further about it when Hoseok lightly tugs on your shirt, raising his brows in silent question. The two of you have been having sex for months now, but he’s still respectful about your lingering insecurities.

Nodding, he pulls off your shirt in one quick movement before kissing you deeply once your head is free, causing you to hum in delight as his hand roams your naked skin. You no longer feel fear or panic at the touch of him against your waist and stomach. Instead, it feels reassuring.

A gasp leaves you when his hands move to cup your breasts, Hoseok smiling into the kiss as he runs his thumb along your soft skin before playing with your nipples. You’d gotten changed as soon as you’d come home from your parents and Hoseok had long gotten used to you going braless. Much to his appreciation.

But he doesn’t waste too long, leaving your lips to kiss down your jaw and suck rosettes of desire into your neck and chest. He deviates from what you presume to be his route momentarily to lavish attention onto your nipples, playing with them for a moment with his tongue and ever so gently his teeth and being careful to give both equal attention.

While he loved your chest, he wasn’t a boob man. No, he was firmly an ass man, which was evident by the way his hands had slipped down your body and were now squeezing and massaging the rounds of your ass in an almost reverent way. It amused you and you lip at your lips, tasting him once more and whining at him.

As much as you enjoyed the foreplay he was willing to give, you preferred it when he spent his time down below. Given your feelings towards your body, you weren’t particularly a fan of foreplay involving the area he was currently enjoying. And he knows this, which is why he presses a kiss to the centre of your chest before shifting backwards.

“Okay, are you okay to lay back? The rug should be okay and I’m gonna put one of these cushions under you.” He grabs the nearest cushion and you almost make a scandalised noise as you realise it’s your Pusheen unicorn cushion, but you don’t get chance to say anything as he’s already trying to move you.

So you relent, letting your back relax onto the soft rug and lifting your hips to let him place the cushion beneath them, lifting your lower body up to a place that was more comfortable for him to reach. Stretching slightly, you let out a slow breath before looking at your boyfriend.

And that breath turns into a low whine when you see the way he’s looking at you hungrily, desire almost a living force in his eyes. Given how ridiculously gorgeous he is, it’s an expression that makes your thighs clench in anticipation and your inner muscles convulse in an ache for him. You’ll never not be surprised that you’re the one to inspire that look in his eyes.

“Fuck,” He whispers, running a hand over his face. “Have I told you today that you’re beautiful? And I love you?” 

You look away from him then, shyness flooding you and you go to hide yourself from his roaming gaze. He loves to make you go shy with his compliments, knowing that you love them despite the way you protest meekly. And he’s not afraid to lavish his words on you, no matter how cheesy they are.

“Anyway, enough of that.” Hoseok mutters and you’re about to query him, but by the time you look back over at him you’re moaning out in pleasure, eyes squeezing shut while your head presses back against the floor. He darted down while you were distracted and all you can feel right now is the heavenly touch of his hot, wet tongue against your pussy.

“Ah fuck.” You gasp, one hand grasping the rug tightly while your other inevitably moves to grasp Hoseok’s hair tightly, the black strands soft between your fingers. The quiet grunt he gives at the pressure of the pull vibrates against your clit as he sucks on it lazily, causing your breath to quiver.

If there was something you’d discovered about yourself during sex with Hoseok, it was that you weren’t a dirty talker. In fact, you weren’t even much of a talker. Instead, you were a babbler. You just mumbled and moaned and whined whatever came to your mind at the time, utterly unaware of the noises you were making.

Hoseok had commented before that he thought it was hot, that the knowledge you couldn’t control your mouth was a turn on. He on the other hand, tended to be either pretty quiet until the end or he’d run his mouth. You’d never thought you’d like dirty talk until you’d heard him whispering utter filth into your ear, his voice strained and hoarse from the effort.

It was surprising, and also not unwanted. 

Now though, he spent the next few minutes with his mouth fully occupied. The tongue piercing that you had grown completely fond of pressed against your clit perfectly when lapped at you slowly, letting every centimetre of his tongue press against as much of you as possible before undulating it against your clit, letting the pressure and friction of the ball rile you up.

Whining, you tug at his hair desperately, feeling the familiar ball of tightened pleasure that is building. And yet it feels just out of reach, as before. Limbs tightening, you begged him to let you orgasm, to bring you over the edge that was so close and yet so far away.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he sits up and licks his lips contentedly, the slickness on them from you and not his own mouth. It’s an attractive sight and you whimper, pussy tightening on nothing at the sight of it. He doesn’t notice though, using his hand to wipe away the rest before looking over to the coffee table and grabbing the lube.

“I’m gonna use this still. You’re pretty wet but I read that you should use plenty, particularly with glass. And I don’t want to hurt you.” You’re almost bemused by the casual way he’s talking now, like he hadn’t just had his tongue buried into your pussy for the last five minutes. In fact, he’s even reading the damn label.

Frustrated, you reach and grasp his hand to attract his attention. “Just fucking put it in me.”

That gets a close lipped smile from him, the expression looking distinctly like he’s trying to stop himself from laughing and you scowl. Yes, you were being abrupt with him. But god dammit, you were lying naked in front of him, desperately horny and needy after being given excellent oral for given minutes and you just wanted to orgasm with your boyfriend once again and not just your own hand.

“Yes ma’am.” Uncapping the bottle, he tilts it up and you jolt slightly at the cool, thick liquid as it hits your swollen clit. He lets a good amount drip onto you before placing it back onto the table, his free hand moving to push the lubrication inside your entrance. For such an intimate motion, Hoseok is showing almost zero interest in having his fingers inside you as his attention is on the glass dildo.

But you moan in relief, tightening around him. He only has the one in you, but your moan attracts his attention back and he grins before adding a second, fingers curling in you and moving easily with the added lube. An almost grateful sigh escapes you and he laughs before pulling his fingers out and grabbing the dildo, wiping the excess onto the head before carefully adding even more.

The head of this dildo is bigger than Hoseok’s dick, and you’re a little nervous as he runs it along your pussy slowly. It’s incredibly cold and firm against you, the temperature causing you to shiver as it presses against the heated bundle of nerves at your centre.

“I’ll go slow, okay? You have to talk to me this time, let me know if it’s hurting or uncomfortable.” Nodding at him, you give him a small smile before your eyes widen as he pushes the tip inside you. It stretches you far more than you’d anticipated and you gasp, fingers grasping the rug tightly as he moves it.

Once it’s past your entrance, the slide is much easier given the shaft’s thinner girth but all you can focus on is how thick the head feels. There’s a brief moment of pause as Hoseok evaluates you before you nod at him and he slowly pulls it out. You grimace as it leaves you, deciding instantly that you do not like the feel of it entering and exiting.

“Don’t pull it out entirely. It...kinda hurts. Like not too bad but, I don’t like it.” You admit, causing him to frown before he nods in acknowledgement. The next few thrusts from him are much gentler as you both experiment with it and you comment on how it feels to him.

The glass is far firmer than anything you’ve had inside you before and you tell him to be careful, knowing that if he moved too hard or rough then it would probably really hurt given the lack of give in it. But you can’t deny that the overly large head is beyond pleasurable as it presses against the squishy patch of nerves on your inner wall, each movement sending sparks of overwhelming feeling through you.

“Move it like...a little down. No, not that way, so the head of it is coming up. Yeah, yeah like tha-ooh my god.” You moan, eyes falling closed as Hoseok does exactly as you suggest. The movement you’ve instructed him to do has the head pressing firmly against those nerves, the pressure intense and you convulse slightly when he moves it again.

“Oh god yes, there. There.” You pant to Hoseok, one hand moving instinctively for something and only stopping when Hoseok grasps it with his free hand, linking your fingers together and giving you something to squeeze. Like the good boyfriend he is, he keeps the dildo in that position as he moves it and you start to beg him to move it faster.

Moaning, you writhe on the floor as pleasure floods through you from the constant pressure and you half recognise the fact that you’re babbling to him to let you cum. But he knows as well as you do that you can’t orgasm from penetration alone, although given how good this feels you’re not entirely sure on that front.

Still, he understands and you almost jump off the floor when you feel the heated pressure of Hoseok’s wet tongue against your clit. A ragged moan leaves you, your free hand grasping his hair once more and tugging tightly as he licks and sucks at your clit almost playfully, enjoying your reactions for him.

You’d curse him out but you can’t quite focus, your entire body and mind centering on your pussy and the tight ball that has once more built up inside you. A small thought wonders whether you’ll not be able to reach it once more but it’s swept away quickly by the feeling of Hoseok’s piercing pressing against your engorged bud, the movement perfected over the months when he could bring you to orgasm.

And then it all combines together and your entire body tightens, loud and ragged moans being ripped from your throat as you shudder almost violently. Your hips move so powerfully that Hoseok can’t even keep movement with you, his mouth leaving you while he still moves the dildo within.

It just adds to the pleasure and you’re struck by the odd sensation of not being able to hear properly for a few seconds, the orgasm so strong that it literally knocks your senses offline. Once the wave has reached its crescendo and begins to soften again, you let out a soft whimper as Hoseok continues to move the dildo, only much slower this time.

It feels good, but almost too good and you push at his hand, telling him silently to stop. You don’t see the look of complete awe on his face when he pulls the dildo out, how he admires the visible signs of your pleasure on the transparent glass as white streaks of your own making coat it.

Instead, you’re just staring at the ceiling as your chest heaves, silent tears slipping from your eyes from just how...overwhelming everything was. The quiet clink lets you know he’s put the dildo on the table and you sniff, feeling particularly pathetic for getting so emotional over an orgasm.

“You came!” Hoseok coos, leaning over and gently resting some of his weight on you. He’s on his elbows, but your raised hips mean that you have the full weight of his own hips against you. Including the very hard erection pressed against you now. “Oh baby, don’t cry. It’s okay.”

“I’m not upset or anything, it’s okay. I just...I don’t know,” Muttering, you wipe at the tears in an almost annoyed fashion and Hoseok smiles. “I’m just feeling emotional. Which is silly. It was just an orgasm but…”

Looking at him, your heart swells with emotion for him and even more tears fall, causing him to smile softly before he wipes them away himself and kisses you. You don’t push him away, instead wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him to you so tightly, fingers pressing into his shoulders.

“It’s okay, you’ve been stressed about it for a while now. Cry if you want, I don’t mind,” He pauses, kissing your nose quickly before smiling. “I said it earlier, but I love you.”

Wiping at your eyes again, you sniff and give him a return smile that’s more than a little shaky. Letting go of him, you watch as he sits up onto his knees, looking down at you while he bites his lip. The tent in his pants is now emphasised by the wet patch that’s been caused by the combination of lube and your own excitement and you feel bad, knowing he’s put off his own pleasure.

Sitting up, you push the cushion away before taking a deep breath. You feel a little sluggish from the strength of the orgasm, but you’ll be damned if you leave him high and dry. And on Christmas no less!

“So...how about some sex for you now?” Hoseok grins immediately at your words and you can’t help but laugh at his eagerness.

“Are you sure? Are you okay? Will you be up for it?” Despite his excitement, you appreciate his words of concern and squeeze his hand in response. Giving him a quick kiss, you take a deep breath to give yourself strength before letting go of him and turning around. There’s a pause, before you get on your hands and knees and look back at him.

This was his favourite position and any playfulness has left his face as he stares at the slick mess between your legs. Licking your lips, you push away the shyness before smiling at him.

“I’ll even let you cum on my back.” His jaw drops immediately. You’d discovered Hoseok liked orgasming onto you. He proclaimed he had no real reason for enjoying it but you thought he got turned on at the physical act of ‘marking’ you in a possessive way. At least...that’s why you enjoyed it anyway.

But you don’t offer it often, so it’s not something he gets to indulge in too much.

“Happy fucking Christmas to me.” He mutters under his breath and you can’t help but laugh as he pulls his clothes off at record speed. Happy Christmas to him indeed.

[eatfishies]

champagne problems

summary: “Your mom’s ring in your pocket, my picture in your wallet, your heart was glass, I dropped it. Champagne problems.” note: features time skip! kageyama. all characters in the present timeline is 21+. slight spoilers from the manga. fem! reader. she/her pronouns. song: champagne problems by taylor swift word count: 1,800 words warnings: alchohol use genre: angst arthie’s note: a fic for the capricorn baby ~~ happy birthday kags!! initially i didn’t plan this out however i’ve been listening to taylor’s new album on repeat and one of my favs from her album is the song “champagne problems” hence the title *wink wink* anyways, this is rlly sad and i hope all of you like this as much as i like writing it hehe ~~ ♡(｡- ω -) ↳ main masterlist ⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ Hugging herself tightly, clutching onto the thick jacket to shield herself from the chilliness, watching as the pearly white snow cascade onto the wooden floor, evaporating into liquid. “Y/n?” He calls out making her head turned, gazing at him fondly. He walked towards her, handing a glass of champagne which she thanked for the gesture. They both indulged in the alcoholic drink as they watch the snowfield scenery before them. It was Christmas Eve and they just had gone and celebrate Kageyama’s 24th birthday. After bidding farewells to their guests, the couple took the time to unwind outside their rented vacation home, sitting atop of the snowy mountain. Kageyama had insisted to stay here for a few weeks until Christmas or possibly till New Year’s. Now that they had the house all to themselves, he couldn’t help but feel more anxious as time goes by, side-eyeing his lover who seemed to be immersed on admiring the beautiful frosty landscape from a distance.

He had memorized the details of his properly thought-out plan, wishing all of his luck that nothing ruins it. God, knows how long he spent dwelling over it and fretting about the worst possible outcomes that could come out of this. However, his friends had reassured him multiple times that it would go as smoothly as he hopes it to be. Feeling the presence beside him made him fully aware of how in awe he is with her, his ethereal partner who is ever-so kind, thoughtful, supportive, patient and understanding of every part of him. She even knows how to manage his short-temper and often gives him space whenever he needed it. Looking back on their relationship definitely confirmed of how utterly in love he is with her. Shaking his head, quickly diminishing any thoughts that would turn into a session of overthinking— he gently intertwines their fingers together, the cold emitting off of her as she blinks at him innocently. “Babe, are you okay?” She asked, concerned underneath her tired, soft voice. He gave her a small smile, gripping her hand to assure her, “I just feel lucky to have you.” That caused her to broke into fits of laughter, he furrowed his brows. “What’s so funny about me confessing what I truly feel?” She can hear the tiny hurt evident in his voice. She cooed, caressing his cheek, “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just.. so weird of you to suddenly make a proclaim that you love me when you’re usually so standoffish.” He averted his gaze, pondering over her words. Quickly sensing that he might go into overthinking mode, she held his face, staring into his crystal azure eyes. “Kageyama Tobio.” She started off, watching him gape at her. “You are the most loving person ever. It doesn’t matter that you don’t often express your emotions but your actions speaks louder than those words. So please, don’t be sadden over what I said. It’s a part of you that made me love you and I don’t mind that at all. In fact; I love every single thing about you.” Hearing those affirmations made his heart sparked with elation, gingerly bringing their faces close as he tasted her lips that escalated into something more as he drowns himself in her love with the tang of champagne filling up his mouth every time he kissed her. He’s so desperately, maddeningly, in love with her. ⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ The bright sun peeked beneath the curtains, signalling them to wake and start their day. He awoken to a pair of arms wrapped around him, soft breathing from his lover as she sleeps peacefully. He smiled, gleeful of her declaration and what the future has in store for the both of them. Carefully removing himself from her embrace, he walked towards the kitchen, preparing them both breakfast before heading out. They took the train to visit their families, beaming at everyone and its cheerful atmosphere that makes him feel warm. He recalls the moment he told his family about his “plan”, they were all thrilled and couldn’t wait to hear the news. Her family had been delighted as well, noting that they were both good for each other and is a perfect couple. Knowing that he has permission to make his move, he feels himself getting more eager to execute his plan. The reunion with families had left him content and all of the anxiousness is slowly dissipating away as they strolled around the park, stopping at the middle where a massive Christmas tree was placed, decorated with glimmering ornaments and festive lights all around. It makes the ambience more fitting with what he’s about to do. Throughout the entire day, he had observed his partner, imprinting her facial expressions into his mind and the way she communicates. Kageyama has always been observant— he just paid extra attention to his lover than anything else (except volleyball). He knew she is the one when she didn’t fuss or get annoyed with his obsession over volleyball even if his career comes first, she never minded and persuaded him to go follow his dreams. He reciprocated that with her too; often checking on her to make sure that she doesn’t overwork herself and celebrated every milestone and promotions she achieved. He knew how important it is to her for her ambitions to come first; they’re both alike yet different in many ways which makes them work well together. Her eyes gazes at the bright lights, awe of the stunning decorations. He fidgets with the box inside his coat pocket, biting his lip as he tries to shake off the anxiety bubbling in the pit of his stomach. With his heart hammering against his chest, he bent down to one knee and pulls the box out of his pocket. Noticing his actions, she widened at the sight of him. He opens the box, revealing a dazzling gold ring. She covers her mouth, stunned. He exhaled, staring at her with so much honesty and love. “Y/n… we’ve been together for the past couple of years. You’ve stuck with me even through all the highs and lows. You comforted me during hard times and knows how to deal with my sensitive yet childish behaviours. You never once doubted my love for you and supported me through all of my endeavours. You were never upset with how ambitious I am for volleyball and always cheer for me throughout every game I’ve had. You made me the happiest person alive and God knows how much I love you with all my heart. I’m never one to rightfully express what I truly feel therefore here I am, pouring all of my feelings for you. With that being said, will you marry me?” Tears prickled on her eyes as she stared at the man whom she knew she loved… yet she doesn’t feel right by saying yes. With a shaky breath, she solemnly responds. “No.” Shocked upon her answer, he looked up at her in disbelief. Hurt plastered all across his face as he slowly stood up. He inched closer, “What do you mean… no?” He whispered, his voice brittle due to her statement as he can feel the void inside his chest. Breaking off the gaze, she closed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry Tobio but.. no. I can’t. I’m not ready for it.” She admitted, scared of his reaction as she gripped her jacket tightly. “I— you could’ve just told me. I would wait for you and—“ “No. Tobio just.. please don’t make this harder than it already is.” She cuts him off. “I’m sorry but I can never see myself being tied to someone.” He can feel the ache in his heart, “Even me?” He asked painfully. Finally opening her eyes, she nodded sullenly. “Yes.”  She gently holds his face, pulling him into a chaste kiss. “Goodbye, Tobio. I’m sorry.” With that, he lets her hand fall just like how she lets his heart shatter against the floor, as she disappears into the sea of strangers. The crowds bustling around him as he feel his heart broke into a thousand pieces. The ringing of his phone startled him from his stupor, he answered it without needing to check. “Mom.. she said no.” He breaks the news forlornly, allowing the tears that he held back stream down his cheeks as his chest ache dreadfully. The night had never seemed so dull for him as he lies his head against the train window, watching the constellations dim from blazing so brightly. He cried and cried until he couldn’t. He didn’t care if anybody stared at him sympathetically, all he knew and felt on this somber night is heartbreak, swallowing him whole as her crestfallen response plays in his head over and over again. He can tell from the moment he stepped inside their once-shared house that she had left and brought all of her belongings with her. Officially leaving him to wallow in his own sorrow. The box which the ring sits prettily at is tossed aside, he considers burning it or throwing it away but decided against it as the ring belongs to his mother whom got engaged with the said band.  A picture of her grinning happily as the wind blows her hair is tucked safely in his wallet, he glared at the memory before casting it into the fire, watching it burn and turn into dust. From that night— he closed himself off from everyone nor did he ever catch a sight of her again. It was as if she had vanished into thin air or perhaps she moved to a new country. He stored away all of the memories they had with each other into the back of his mind, never wanting to relive it. Years had flew by and he not once got an answer or a hint as to why she had so readily rejected his proposal. He long accepted their fate and the love they once shared was nothing but a memory of the past. She was just a stranger he used to loved. As he makes his way towards the figure standing in front of him, he smiled and bent down, reenacting the bitter scene yet again. His new lover sobbed happily as she joyfully accepted his proposal. Her picture in his wallet as he slips the ring onto her dainty finger, noting her wide grin. Little did he knew— his past lover is observing the scene from afar, smiling sadly at the exchange. She sighed, knowing that she deserved to be hated for what she did as she walks away, wishing them nothing but the best for their future.  Maybe someday, she can tell the tale of someone who was dear to her to her grandchildren and to never make the same mistake as she did. 

[pointnumbersixteen]

My Personal Ranking of Ghosts Episodes and Why

So, here’s my personal order for all the current Ghosts episodes, from best to worst, with a bit of an explanation as to why I think so. I included who wrote each episode because the writing pairs tend to have consistent strengths and weaknesses that affect my enjoyment. These are, of course, just my opinions, and I recognize that different people have different tastes.  

1) Moonah Ston (Larry and Martha)

This episode is hilarious and it continues to be hilarious through multiple viewings (some of the jokes in other episodes start to wear thin after multiple viewings, but this one remains entirely solid through dozens of rewatches). Barclay and Bunny are my favorite guest characters throughout the show. Also some of my all-time favorite bits are in it: Cap stealing Thomas’s role doing the reading, the shooting of the pheasant with Cap, everything to do with Mary and the cooking of the pheasant, the way Alison yeets the pelaverga as soon as it’s handed to her, the juxtaposition of the eclipse ritual and the dinner party, Bunny’s ‘sobriety test.’ Also, there’s a strong A plot and a strong B plot that tie together, and all of the characters are fit into these two plots well, which is something the creators sometimes struggle with.

2) Getting Out (Mat and Jim)

I love everything about the Captain’s portion of the plot and it’s a nice big portion, too. His scene with Kitty is one of my favorite scenes in the show, brilliantly written, well-acted, and gorgeously shot. I can feel for Mike and Alison in it. Fiona’s another really funny guest character. My only major complaint is that the plot with other ghosts after the Captain’s left the group starts to drag after enough re-watches, particularly Thomas’s bad erotica and the jewel scene. I found both very funny on the first several watches, but the payoff to both is ruined with enough rewatches. With the first, the payoff is with how surprisingly bad for a ‘professional’ writer his story is, but after you’re well aware that Thomas is a bad writer, it’s just listening to bad writing over and over again. And the bit with Fanny’s jewel has such a long lead up, to get to the surprise payoff that the jewel was secretly pawned by George forever ago, but once you know the jewel is gone, the long lead up gets progressively more tedious with every watch. At least for me.

3) Reddy Weddy (Ben and Simon)

I’ve written extensively about this one before, so I won’t include much, but: I love everything having to do with the Captain in this one, particularly the completely wonderful flashbacks with Havers. Mike and Alison were very well done, and I enjoyed Martin as a guest character. But I really didn’t like the whose-turn-is-it-to-pick-the-movie subplot, it just seemed sort of unnecessary to me and detracted from the tone of the rest of it. I assume they just had trouble finding a better integrated role for Pat, Thomas and Julian, which, as I said under Moonah Ston, is an occasional weakness the creators had.

4) Gorilla War (Larry)

I love Cap’s campaign of attrition. And his singing. Everyone had solid, funny bits, all tied into one main plot in it. Mike and Alison are both well done in this episode. It’s the first episode where Alison is able to interact with the ghosts and I think they did a great job capitalizing on her coming to terms with it and Mike’s such a supportive husband in it.  

5) About Last Night (Mat and Jim)

I love the spat between Cap and Pat in this one, because the focus of their subplot is their relationship dynamic and I enjoy their relationship dynamic- even though it’s close to the breaking point in this instance, all is well because they make up in the end. Everything about the state of the house and trying to remember what happened to it-as well as the flashbacks to the party- is pretty funny. The bits with Dante were very funny as well. The Robin-Mary subplot was a bit meh for me, but I didn’t dislike it, I’m just not sold on the idea. I didn’t enjoy Mike being sidelined on the roof for most of the episode when Alison needed his help and all the criticism he got from the other characters for not being around to help Alison, though.

6) Who Do You Think You Are? (Mat and Jim)

This is a really strong introductory episode with some good, funny bits in it, but it doesn’t rank higher since the ghosts can’t interact with Alison yet and Mike and Alison don’t know they’re there, which is where a lot of the fun of the concept of the show comes in to me.

7) Bump in the Night (Larry and Martha)              

The robbers were funny as were the ghosts’ utterly inept attempts (save Robin) in stopping them. I loved music club, particularly the Captain’s performance. I appreciated the return of Barclay and his bitches. Humphrey was actually reasonably included in the plot, which is always a nice change. There weren’t any bits I found particularly outstanding (except maybe Cap’s musical performance) but there weren’t any major bits I disliked, either. Everyone’s included in one main plot and it continues to be just as enjoyable on rewatches.

8) The Thomas Thorne Affair (Mat and Jim)

I greatly enjoy examine-the-story-from-multiple-viewpoints-to-illustrate-unreliable-narration plots, so that went well in this episode. I also really like regency romances, so this ticked another box for me. Humphrey was given an important bit again, which I appreciate. The bit about Francis was a nice twist at the end, because otherwise it would have been a bit too predictable, with Thomas being shot in a duel over a romantic misunderstanding- that was the most obvious solution to his death, after all. It felt a bit contrived, though, that the characters who died after Thomas all went to the group meeting on time, while the characters who witnessed Thomas’s death were all still wandering around upstairs and just happen to wander into Alison’s room in time to contradict the last telling of the story and provide the next. And of course, the fact that half the cast is just sort of sitting downstairs waiting for a significant portion of the episode always seemed a bit lacking to me. Also, Mike starts the episode being unusually stupid (not knowing Elizabeth II is the current queen- at least in the US, not being able to answer who the current President is frequently used as shorthand for ‘having brain damage’) and spends the rest of it being insecure about Alison’s ex (this seems to be a Mat and Jim thing).  

9) Perfect Day (Mat and Jim)

I loved all the Cap bits in this. Pat’s plotline was good, too. Humphrey actually had a substantial role, which I appreciated, and more so since he actually managed to bring Fanny around to the gay wedding. I was of course thrilled that it was a lesbian wedding. But I’m not a fan of ‘miscommunication causes drama’ plots in any medium and I disliked how once again how insecure Mike is in this episode (Mat and Jim again) and how poorly he handles it.

10) Happy Death Day (Ben)

I love all the Pat bits. I liked the interactions between the Captain and Julian, they had a really enjoyable dynamic in this one, although they’re being rather disappointing human beings in their plotline. I like Kitty’s plotline, too, and the garden scene between her and Fanny is very funny and beautifully framed. I don’t think this episode did a particularly good job with either Mike or Alison, though. Mike ditches his probably still concussed wife who is plagued by ghosts to manage the building work he started because he’s spending hours a day out of the house because there are too many people in it and he’s apparently potty-shy and Alison thinks trying to convince people to do probably thousands, if not more, pounds worth of free labor by making them tea is both a plausible idea and an appropriate thing to even try (it’s bad enough when the people asking you to do free work for them are actually your friends, contriving a friendship in order to do this just sort of seems a bit contemptible to me). Some of the jokes get less funny with time- Fanny with the butt cracks, for instance. I considered the Thomas subplot another weak ‘well, something needs to be done with this character’ subplot and I can’t even remember off the top of my head what Mary was doing most of the episode despite having seen it at least a dozen times, besides the bit where Alison throws the teacup at her head (and if I were Terry, I would have called it quits then).  

11) The Ghost of Christmas (Ben and Simon)

Mostly fluff, and a decent amount of it was rather predictable fluff, but I’ve written more on that elsewhere. Mike’s sisters were the worst. I was hoping Ben would write himself a bigger role and he didn’t. In the Bleak Midwinter was gorgeous, though, and there were enough smaller bits that I found endearing to prop it up over the next two.

12) The Grey Lady (Larry and Martha)

I enjoy the ghosts’ routine as shown at the beginning of the episode. I found Pat’s radio show amusing. I liked the basement scene with Nigel. I wasn’t a huge fan of the Captain’s ‘stretching’ subplot (although I do greatly enjoy his  ‘for king and country’ running), it just seemed a bit silly to me, like they couldn’t decide what to do with him for most of the episode, so went with ‘eh, squats, I guess.’ Also, I feel like they had trouble placing Mary and Kitty, too. Mary spends a lot of the episode staring at a wall and Kitty spends all of it just following the group and occasionally wailing about the ‘ghost-ghost.’ Also, I think Alison went a little too far with her simulated haunting when she dressed up as the Grey Lady; it wasn’t smart because there was no way she was going to get away with it after anyone turned on the lights and it seems a bit more like attempting to defraud people than the rest of it did.

13) Free Pass (Mat and Jim)

Alison actively puts people in danger for money, misrepresenting the house as structurally sound in order to get a movie contract, when in fact the floors are held up by hope and happy thoughts and could (and eventually do) cave at any moment. If the floor had fallen through in the letter scene, before Mike braced it, when they were using the heavy equipment, there likely would have been serious injuries. Also: Toby Nightingale is the worst. Also: the solidity and supportive nature of Mike and Alison’s relationship is the best part of it and I dislike the choice (Mat and Jim again) to make him so insecure in this episode (this was the first in the episode order to do so).

To speak on general tendencies, though: I’m not a fan of doing morally questionable things for monetary reasons unless the situation is life or death, so all of the episodes where that’s Alison’s primary purpose get major demerits from me. That’s a matter of personal taste, but there I am. As for the writers (I recognize they all come up with the general story arcs together, but the writing pairs are responsible for execution), everyone struggles a bit sometimes to get solid roles for everyone into the plot, to be expected when the cast is so large, but some instances are worse than others. I think Larry’s (well, Larry/Martha for most of them, but they’ve both joked that mostly she drinks and he writes when they’re working on their episodes) still the strongest writer in terms of having mostly cohesive plots that standup consistently as solid to multiple viewings, but he also has the most experience as a writer, so that’s probably to be expected. Ben and Simon have both stated that they like jig-sawing a bunch of little plots together to make an episode, and while it is a bit impressive that they can make episodes with like, nearly as many plotlines as characters come together to make one reasonably sane episode, I find this strategy detrimental in that to me, when they do this, there’s always one or two plots that are really, really good, a few plots that are pretty good, and then one or two plots that I just don’t enjoy, that to me drag down the rest of the episode (most apparent in Reddy Weddy, but it happens to some degree in all of their episodes). My major criticism of Mat and Jim is with the way they write Mike. I actually really like Mike when he’s well done, but his portrayal seems to vary a lot between episodes, and (with the exception of Ben’s Happy Death Day, but his problems in that one are different) the episodes he’s written the weakest in are all written by Mat and Jim. They’re the only ones who I think write Mike as insecure in his relationship with Alison and his most incompetent and/or useless moments also tend to be written by them. I don’t know if they have a slightly different concept of Mike’s character than the other four or what, but I think Larry/Martha and Ben/Simon’s portrayals of him tend to be significantly more flattering.

[pondermoniums]

A little post season 3 ficlet (2749 words) featuring some holiday fluff <3 See tags or read on ao3 here ~

• • • •

Billy still feels it. He wishes his muscle memory had died with him, but it just came back with him too.

The things he felt.

The things It felt.

Everything It made him do.

His psychiatrist tries to tell him that his scars are his body claiming his soul back. Billy couldn’t agree. He didn’t like touching the starbursts on his torso because the shiny scar flesh felt tissue-paper thin—not to his fingertips, but underneath. His heart trembled as if he could just push a little too hard, and enter his ribs—

“Hey, the new place opened up off Main Street. You know those new roads they’re building? There’s already a Greek place there. Let’s get a menu.”

Billy frowned at him. Steve Harrington. He’d been at the mall. Billy didn’t remember seeing him…during…but afterward. In the spotty shreds of memory that were all his own, he remembered Steve looking nearly as bad as he felt. The memories swirled together like a circus dream. Steve and…Robin. Her name is Robin…in striped costumes. Steve carried Max away from his body. Robin practically did the same for the girl with a number for a name. All of them glowed with Starcourt neon pink and purple and red.

Steve’s car hummed around them, and fell silent when he turned onto the fresh asphalt of Hawkins’ new road. Steve laughed a little. “Farmer Higgins is probably still fuming. Last thing the mayor did before he got booted out of here was steal land for these businesses.”

“What’s it matter?” Billy exhaled. There were less people in Hawkins to fuel the shady economy anyway.

“Well I can’t speak for your Camaro, but my car doesn’t last long, driving brodies with trees in the way.”

His little sapphire. A dark mixture of humor and apathy seeped into his blood at the memory of Steve Harrington, of all people, slamming into him. He didn’t do it hard enough.

Now he sat in the car Steve drove. Not because the Camaro couldn’t be fixed, but because Billy wasn’t fit to drive yet. Maybe there was something full-circle about it. Or a broken circle; an open-ended thing, like Billy.

“As if you could do a brody.”

Steve smirked. “Thankfully I’ve ruined enough fields for practice.”

And then he pulled right off the road, slipped through a tiny thicket of trees framing the road, and burst upon a dry, yellow field. He turned sharply, throwing Billy against him…until the car locked into a paradox of calm and chaos. The back wheels revolved around them to dig a doughnut in the earth. Steve let the wheel go, and they rocked as the car jerked with the front tires straightening.

Steve looked around them to find the road again and made a mock sound of getting sick. “Glad we didn’t eat first.”

He grinned at Billy, making him realize a smile had stuck on his face like a cramped muscle. He pushed a hand over his mouth, physically melting it off.

The food was good. The flavors shoved their way over his pallet. It was kind of hard to enjoy food now. He ate when his body needed it but he didn’t get the emotional reaction to it—

“I didn’t know we had Greeks in Hawkins,” Steve conversed openly. A small, lost part of Billy remembered Steve calling him out for being mouthy during basketball, but Steve could talk. He wiped his mouth and dug back into his rice plate. “Then again, Robin and Dustin always have something to say about authenticity. Like you spend a day outside of Indiana and you’re worldly.”

“Did you forget where I’m from?” Billy spoke before he meant to. California didn’t seem to matter much any—

“Did you?” Steve tossed back.

Silence fell over their booth while Steve waited. Then he went back to his food when Billy clearly didn’t care about responding.

Over and over again.

Steve picked Billy up.

Hospital.

Food.

Back to Cherry Lane.

Steve talked. Sometimes Billy replied.

Then things began to change. Steve took Billy to the grocery store after Billy’s therapy. Billy had emerged ruddy-eyed liked he smoked a pound of weed, and Steve had merely said, “I’m feeling tacos.”

Only instead of a restaurant, he took them to the store. And then the Harrington house. Billy talked more there.

“No, no, it’s queso fresco.”

“It’s just cheese, though?”

“Jesus, it’s like I’m the one who grew up with farmers. Different rain waters different grass. That makes different cows, which make different milk. Do you know anything about breweries?”

“Do you?” Steve challenged while they made a mess of his kitchen counter. Crumbles of white cheese, lettuce, and other tacos toppings littered the fancy granite.

“I know that breweries stay put. Because the water’s different. They have to have the right water to make the right beer. I haven’t had my favorite lager since I moved here.”

“What’s it taste like?”

Billy told him. Billy told him a lot of things. Steve just…got a rise out of him the way his therapist couldn’t. Then again, Steve never asked about all the things Billy wanted to burn out of his brain.

Then Cherry Lane fell off the list. Billy couldn’t say how exactly he moved into Harrington’s house. Maybe the food flowed into Billy falling asleep, and starting the next day from Steve’s house just happened too many times. Maybe Max used Steve’s pool too many times. Maybe it was when Billy realized Steve wasn’t just driving him to his physical and mental therapy sessions.

He walked out of the physical therapy gym at the back of the hospital to meet Steve in the same lobby they parted ways in. But Steve wasn’t there. Billy asked the nearby receptionist if “the guy with the hair” had gotten lost to the bathroom, but she only replied, “He’s running a little overtime, but he should be on his way.”

Billy’s appointments took hours. It made sense for Steve to leave and come back—

But the elevator dinged, and Steve was too busy reading something to not walk into a passing nurse. “Oh! Ow—sorry! Sorry,” he exclaimed, holding his arm…

He rolled the shoulder of that arm on the way through the parking lot, swinging the arm round and around like he was warming up for tennis. Inside the car, Billy cornered, “What were you doing in there?”

Steve glanced at him but shrugged as he turned the ignition. “Blood work. An IV drip. MRI’s. My usual stuff. The drip took longer this time.”

“Usual stuff? How come I’m just now hearing of this?”

“Remember, Robin used to meet us here? She got cleared faster.”

“Cleared out of what? How are you more broken than she was?”

Steve stared at him for an unnerving minute. “They…kind of beat the shit out of me. So… I mean, you pack a wallop, but Russians with an agenda put you to shame.”

Billy suddenly wondered if he’d overstepped a boundary. Steve just talked so much, and took whatever Billy gave him without flinching that he never considered…

“Getting concussed and doped up with unknown chemicals isn’t everyone’s normal Thursday.”

Billy had forgotten that Steve had been through shit like this before. Not with the same variables, but… “I forget that your normal got thrown out the window before I got here.”

“It’s not a competition,” Steve tried to say lightly. He waved a hand in front of the vents as if their lingering in the parking lot was just to wait for the heating to kick on.

“And if it is, who’d win?”

“Oh, I think Will Byers has us beat.”

That…hit differently than Billy expected. A laugh burst out of him, like it had just been waiting for a weight to lift off of him to break free. “Yeah. Maybe he does.”

Then they went to Steve’s house, where more and more of Billy’s clothes had accumulated. The kitchen had been stocked with food bought from Steve’s wage and Billy’s top-secret government allowance—which turns out, was rather high. Steve, for all his fancy furniture and basically bottomless bank account thanks to his parents, had to pick his jaw up off the floor when Billy finally revealed the monthly check to him.

“Holy shit. Don’t let the nerds see that; they’ll siphon quarters out of you for the arcade.”

“They’re old enough to want beer and condoms.”

Steve scoffed as he flipped their dinner pancakes. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think they’ll sooner pop their cherries than go for beer.” Then he grimaced and waved his spatula. “New subject! Change the subject.”

Billy laughed from the breakfast bar, where he was arranging his medication into a days-of-the-week organizer. It was just a bar of little snap-closed boxes, but it helped him keep track of the pills he took—and the ones he ignored.

Steve had asked him once, “Why do you always leave the red ones?”

“They turn me into a vegetable.”

“Oh. You can’t, like…split it in half? Half vegetable?”

Billy couldn’t say why he felt comforted by Steve’s uniquely clueless way of thinking. Perhaps the guy actually made sense, or maybe he just over-simplified things in an over-complicated world.

Now, though, he set the spatula down with the announcement, “Oh! I got you something. Well, I hope I got the right stuff.”

Billy didn’t go with him to the garage, but he did follow Steve with his eyes. Blue irises locked onto the shockingly familiar box of lager when Steve returned. “Where in the hell did you find that?”

That dopey, thrilled grin made Steve glow like the Christmas lights they’d thrown all over the open floor plan. “Dude, there are professional shoppers! I mean, that makes each can like…a twenty-dollar beer, and this is the only box I got, but this is the stuff you were talking about, right? The lady on the phone said they released other flavors, but you only said ‘lager,’ so it’s what I got.”

The cans were practically frozen from being in the garage, but Billy tore open the box as well as he could to pry one out. “I don’t think I’ve been given the okay for alcohol.”

“We can water it down.”

“You don’t water down beer!”

“Then split one with me. I’ve chilled glasses somewhere…”

He went digging in the freezer drawer and pulled out plastic wine glasses. Billy snorted as he accepted one. “This is so cheap.”

“Yeah well, even mom’s fancy bimbo friends break wine stems around the pool. Gimme that.”

Billy appreciated that Steve made it sound greedy, instead of pitiful. Billy had trouble with his hands.

The can snapped open with a satisfying metallic crack. Billy teased as Steve poured, “Is this your first rodeo? Look at all that foam.”

“We’ve got time. The pancakes are almost done.”

Billy pushed his pill organizer aside to rest his chin on his arms, listening to carbonation sizzle while he watched Steve’s shoulder blades move under his sweatshirt.

“When do you get cleared for pot?”

Billy rolled his eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever be officially cleared for that—hey, hey!”

Steve had turned around, leaning back against the counter with a pancake in his hand and a full cheek. “Whuh?”

“You’re eating my dinner! Dump the skillet over a plate and get over here!”

Steve came around to sit on the stool next to him with a pancake in his mouth and—

“Are those my slippers?”

“You mean my slippers that I hadn’t worn yet? Yeah, I took them back,” Steve retorted.

Billy successfully knocked one off his foot. “They still had the tags when I got to them. So dibs.”

Steve kicked the other slipper into the living room. “No dibs if you don’t have both.”

“You’re wearing my sweatpants. I get your slippers.”

“I get your beer and you get my pancakes.”

“Not if you eat all of them! Syrup, now,” Billy demanded with a grabby hand gesture.

Steve disintegrated into giggles that made him sound as much like a little kid as movie heartthrob. He finished pouring and passed the bottle.

So it went. Back and forth. Back and forth.

First Steve took Billy’s time. The minutes that built into hours driving to and from the hospital. Then Billy ate his food. Steve covered the restaurant tabs until they switched to cooking at his house. Steve washed his clothes and wore them like his own. Billy took Steve’s car keys and drove for the first time with Steve practically hostage all the way to the tree farm.

“I didn’t take you for a real tree kind of person.”

“You have the ceiling space for a nine-foot tree.”

“How the hell are we hauling a nine-foot tree?” Steve practically blanched. “And with what car?” He adjusted his earmuffs because he’d rather be caught dead than wear a proper hat. Billy, meanwhile, strolled through the greenery and the first snowflakes spitting from the sky with leisurely ease in his beanie.

He laughed, “I like how you’re not saying no.”

Steve didn’t do much to hide his mimicry as he trudged behind Billy, who chuckled to himself. “For once it actually smells nice. The trees really cover up the cow shit of—oh my god, there are actual cows.”

A line of tables displayed other living decorations like wreaths and garlands, but beyond them was a field of black and red cattle. Billy moved under a line of wreaths hanging over their heads to see how they actually had blankets on their backs. “Are the cow jackets norm—”

Steve caught his mouth in a quick, firm kiss. The sound of their lips parting echoed in Billy’s ears. Steve’s fingers lifted off his jaw to touch something noisy above their heads. Billy dumbly looked up to see the tiny bells interwoven with a mistletoe wreath. “Careful. We have real mistletoe here. Not whatever plastic California has.”

He left Billy stupefied, having the audacity to stroll away with a whistle on his lips before Billy snapped out of it and nearly tackled him. “OW! Agh, fu-shit, Jesus—”

“You’re better about planting your feet,” Billy breathed against Steve’s earmuff. He held Steve’s arms trapped against his body.

“Are you always this mean when someone kisses you?” he strained in Billy’s tight grip. The gravel under their boots grit and rattled as Billy dragged Steve deeper into the trees. “Alright! I should’ve asked! I’m sorry—”

Steve might’ve stolen the first kiss, but Billy shoved him into a tree and took it back. He took Steve’s cold shock against his lips, until hot breath warmed them up between nervous stares. Then Billy took his lips, his tongue, the taste of the mint brownies Steve ate on the way here. The cold tip of Steve’s nose pushed into his cheek, and Billy’s heart felt fragile against the softness of Steve’s mouth.

His breath trembled as he asked, “Why did you do that?”

Why do you give me rides? Give me food? Why do you cook every night? Why did you give me a bedroom? Will you let me into yours?

Steve’s arms around his waist moved, tightening a little but also moving up Billy’s spine as if to comfort him. To anchor them together. Steve swallowed, and the fragility in his eyes made Billy’s throat hurt. “I didn’t get to the first time.”

Billy couldn’t stand it. He pushed Steve’s earmuffs off in his effort to press his face against Steve’s neck. To absorb the delicious little sound that escaped him when Billy’s cold nose found the warm pocket inside his collar.

Billy didn’t think he’d be able to kiss anyone ever again.

Not after…

But all he wanted was to keep Steve’s lips on him. To steal him away like some fairytale winter troll and either keep him or devour him if he tried to leave.

“Billy?” His name was muffled against his own scarf, so tightly did Steve hold onto him.

But if Steve was taking…maybe Billy could let himself be stolen again.

“When we’re home…” he sniffled on his way back up to standing on his own. “Kiss me again.”

“Can I kiss you now?”

Billy laughed through his tears. “No, you’re buying me the biggest tree your car can carry. And I’ll steal that wreath while they’re distracted.”

“You have the money to buy it!”

“That’s no fun.”

[baronessblixen]

The Three Lost Children

This is my entry for the @xfilesfanficexchange Horror Fanfic Exchange. My words were lost and abandoned. Set in season 6.

The reason I’m posting it here as well as on AO3 is because this is also today’s Fictober story! Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober

Fictober Day 24

New England in autumn is a sight to be seen. Mulder drives them through the vibrant, popping colors and Scully watches, almost like a child, in silent awe. She can’t wait to stop the car, walk through the rustling leaves, take in the fresh air. Listen to the breeze of the nearby ocean. She hasn’t been to the ocean in so long and her soul aches for it. She chances a glance at Mulder. They’re both quiet, lost in their own thoughts. She wouldn’t be able to guess what he’s thinking about. Lately, this is all they’ve been; a long stretch of silence, of unspoken pains.

The longer they drive, the lonelier it becomes. She doesn’t know why they’re here, not really. Something about apparitions, something about a cold case. As so often, she just followed him, barely asking for an explanation, still trusting him with their work. Even after Diana. They’ve been inching back towards normalcy. But in her mind, it’s ever present. Before Diana, after Diana.

Mulder sets the blinker and turns onto a small, nondescript gravel path. She glances at him but he doesn’t say anything. They follow the path and Scully watches as the trees grow rarer, most of them bald, barely alive. She shivers involuntarily as a house comes into view, growing bigger and bigger. Mulder slows the car and parks at it what must have been a gate once.

“We’re here,” he says unnecessarily, turning to her. They get out of the car and Mulder stretches, holding his nose into the air, half a smile on his face. Scully watches him, half amused and, despite herself, a little bit in love with him.

“Mulder,” she says, looking at the house in front of them, abandoned and broken, “why are we here?”

“This house is said to be haunted.” Whenever he talks about haunted places, his face lights up. An enthusiasm she’s never been able to share.

“You already took me to a haunted house on Christmas Eve, Mulder.” And they almost ended up dead. Or so she thinks. The memories of that night are still hazy and untrustworthy. “I can’t keep doing this,” she says to herself but he hears her, throwing her a look she can’t decipher. They’re the only living things around here. Not a single bird is singing. The trees are watching on, dead und unmoving. Something is not right. She stops and looks around. The cold feeling is back, taking hold of her. As if someone were softly scratching her with long fingernails, making her shiver all over. She takes a step forward but the sensation remains.

Her eyes are drawn to the house. She squints, tries to see it for what it must have been once. The bricks are laid bare, the house a mere skeleton. It seems to be standing up by pure will. Part of it has crumbled to the ground, a big hole gaping in between the main house and a smaller cottage. They must have been a unit once. Now, they’re standing on their own sides, not touching, decaying by themselves, still in sync.

“Let’s go inside.”

“Mulder, wait.” He stops and turns around. “Why are we here? How is this an X-Files?”

“Just follow me.” He keeps on walking, pushing open the creaky wooden door. Scully huffs. So much for her New Year’s resolutions. There’s something about this house that repels her. She’s not going to admit it to Mulder. She barely admits it to herself. But she feels it all around her in the cool air, the eerie silence. There’s a presence here. Something rotten and evil.

“Scully?” Mulder asks from inside, his voice sounding obscured. She takes a deep breath, the smell of decomposition in the air growing stronger the closer she gets to the ajar door. She steps inside the damp, old ruin and looks around.

Mulder is on the stairs and they creak in pain with every step he takes.

“You still haven’t told me,” she says, walking through what must have been a kitchen once. There are a few cups on the table, on the counters. One day, someone walked out here and never returned. She doesn’t dare to look into the cups. One is chipped, another one has faded colors. There was life here, once.

“Told you what?” Mulder yells from upstairs.

“What we’re doing here.” Scully leaves the kitchen and finds herself in the main hall. She stares at the big, dark wooden grandfather clock in the corner. Her heart starts pounding as she realizes that it’s showing the right time. The hands are moving, tick tock, tick tock. How is it possible that this clock is ticking? How is it possible that anything is alive in this house?

“Come up here, Scully. I want to show you something.” She gives the clock one last look but it goes on steadily. It feels as if it were watching her with stern eyes, judging her. As soon as she turns around, facing away from the clock, she hears it. At first it’s soft, barely discernible. A laugh. She keeps on walking and there it is again. More laughter. It sounds like… like… children’s laughter. She turns back, gasping. There’s only the clock, mocking her with its precision. She takes a breath, reminds herself that perception can play tricks on your mind. There might be children outside, playing games. That’s what she heard. It must be.

As she ascends the stairs, the wood moaning, she touches the walls where yellow lines speak of picture frames that must have hung here once. Who lived here? She wonders. What happened to them?

“There you are,” Mulder says upstairs, his head peeking out of a small room.

“You owe me an explanation.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He touches her arm and leads her into the room. Gloomy light falls through the broken windows, fracturing this room, a child’s bedroom. Scattered toys, old and dusty, some gnawed on. Sadness engulfs her as she stands there, cold to the bone. She hugs herself but it neither brings her comfort, nor warmth.

“What are we doing here?” she asks again, the anger in her rising.

“One day in 1879, a girl named Lucy Monroe disappeared. No one expected fowl play. An accident, everyone said. The parents were devastated, left their house and moved away. No one heard from them again. Things went back to normal and no one thought about poor Lucy or her parents. That is until the next two children disappeared, a pair of siblings.” Mulder picks up a toy car and blows off the dust.

“Is this- did Lucy Monroe live in this house?” Scully looks around and her eyes linger on the wallpaper with colorful balloons and clowns.

“She didn’t,” Mulder goes on. “When Lucy disappeared, this house belonged to one Richard Watkins. His neighbors described him as an inconspicuous, religious man. He, his wife and their three children went to church every Sunday but liked to keep to themselves. Until a fire claimed the life of his wife and children. That’s when everything changed.”

“What changed?” Scully asks. Damn Mulder for knowing how to tell a story. He’s walking around in circles, still holding the small toy car. He turns to her, his face solemn.

“Richard Watkins bundled all his pain and his hate against God. He stopped going to church, stopped leaving the house altogether. People in town started talking about him. It became a dare for children to find this house and catch a glimpse of this ungodly man. The gossip started, as it always does. They said Richard Watkins turned his back on God, like he’d done to him, and worshipped Satan instead.”

Scully wants to roll her eyes, or laugh. She can’t. Mulder’s voice is mesmerizing. As is the story he’s telling. She stares at the three small beds, barely touched. She freezes. One bed, an old moldy mattress still in place, has an indentation. It almost looks like a child’s body. Scully looks away, focuses on Mulder and nothing else.

“What does this have to do with the case, Mulder?”

“Don’t you feel it, Scully? This house… it’s haunted.”

She feels it. She feels it in the strange scratching sensation that’s intensifying. She feels it in the heaviness of her bones. This house has memories and it is aching from them. She feels that same ache, too.

“I don’t feel it,” she lies. “Maybe you should have brought Diana. All I feel is a draft. I’m leaving.” She is angry with Mulder and angry with herself. Why does she continue to let herself be lured out to these places, into myths and folklores? This is not her job. She could be at home, she could be doing something of consequence. But here she is, in yet another haunted house, chasing ghosts and chasing Mulder.

This has to stop.

“I haven’t told you the rest of the story,” Mulder calls out but she’s already back on the stairs. She doesn’t reply, refuses to listen. She’s not as proficient in running away as Mulder is but she can manage.

Still on the stairs, she hears the clock in the main hall. Is that her imagination or has the noise increased? Drawn by an unknown force, Scully returns to the hall. Her eyes fall on the clock, the wood darker than she remembers it. Among all these broken, forgotten things, the clock doesn’t fit in. It doesn’t fit at all. Her eyes are trained on the hands. Maybe none of it is real, maybe she’s just imagining it, fueled by Mulder’s story. But they keep moving steadily.

The clock strikes the full hour and there’s a drawn-out creak that sounds as if someone were opening a door, but slowly. She stares at it, the clock, unmoving but for the hands. Tick tock, tick tock. The creaking stops and then everything else does, too. Scully holds her breath for a second, then lets it out. It’s all in my head, she reminds herself. She relaxes. There’s nothing wrong with this clock. Nothing at all.

Just as she’s about to leave, the clock-face crumbles, falls apart, and reveals a new face, half man, half not. Blood-red eyes meet hers for the flash of a second. An evil grin with sharp teeth, horns protruding from the forehead. She’s seen this face before. In stories, in her nightmares. It’s the face of the devil. Unable to look away, her shaky fingers search for her gun. She stops when she hears the soft, gentle sound of laughter close to her.  

Someone’s touching her. There’s pressure on her arm but as she looks down at it, there’s nothing there. Only laughter in the air. Happy, unabashed children’s laughter.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” a child’s voice singsongs. Scully makes a complete turn but she’s all alone. There’s only her and the big, dark clock that sits there unremarkably. The face, she notices, has gone back to normal.

“I’m losing my mind,” she murmurs, slowly walking backwards. She needs to get out of this room, out of this house. When her back comes into contact with something warm, something solid, she screams.

“Hey,” Mulder says, holding her by the arms. “It’s just me.”

“Did you hear it, Mulder?” she asks him.

“Hear what?”

“The children.”

“What children?”

“There was children’s laughter, there was-“ she stops. She sounds crazy. Mulder looks at her as if she’s lost her mind before he cracks a smile.

“So now you agree with me? This place is haunted.”

“Why did you bring me here?” she yells at him. All the anger and frustration she’s been feeling these last few weeks break out of her.

“I- the case, I-“ He’s stunned by her outburst. “I thought we could… I wanted to show you this house, tell you the story. I’ve been fascinated by it ever since I was a child myself.” His eyes grow soft and so does she.

“Tell me,” she says, feeling weak. “But not in here. I need fresh air.” They walk outside together, Mulder holding Scully’s hand. “I can’t believe I’m admitting this but this place is creepy, Mulder.”

He chuckles softly. “I know. Can I finish my story now?” Scully nods at him. “No one ever found out what happened to Lucy Monroe or the other two kids that disappeared. They were never found. But Richard Watkins was. The details are hazy but he slipped one night, fell down the cliffs and died. An act of God, it was later surmised. Because of what he’d been planning. They never found the kids but they found Lucy Monroe’s doll in his house, clothes that the kids had been wearing, too. They searched the whole place but no other traces could be found. It was said that Richard Watkins was planning to sacrifice the children to Satan the night he died.”

“The children,” she mumbles. She thinks of the laughter she’d heard and shivers. It can’t be. It just can’t be. There’s no such thing as haunted souls, a haunted house.

“You heard them.”

“I heard something,” she admits. “There might be children playing here somewhere that-“

“There are no children here, Scully. Listen. You heard the three lost children. That’s what folks around here call them. The three lost children. They’re said to be haunting this house. In early 1900, people tried to sell this house. Enough time had passed, they’d figured. No one has been able to stay here longer than a few weeks. The last recorded family that moved in were the Hendersons in the 50s. A newly married couple, just starting out. While Mr. Henderson never heard the children, his wife sure did. She thought she was going insane. They’d been trying for a baby and everyone, including her doctors and her husband, thought that unfulfilled wish was causing her audiovisual hallucinations.”

Is that why she heard them? Because of her own failure to conceive? She pushes the thought away.

“What happened to them?”

“They moved out. Their marriage was in shambles by the time they did. Mr. Henderson was so angry that this house, their dream house, was causing them so much misery that he destroyed half of it.” They both turn to look at the house, at the gaping middle.

“They separated?”

Mulder shakes his head. “They almost did. Their love for each other was strong though.” He stares at her, his eyes so green, so open, that she feels powerless. “They moved away. They worked on their marriage. They healed. Together. And then, not long after, Mrs. Henderson became pregnant. She gave birth to a healthy baby girl. The end.” He grins at her.

“How do you know all this, Mulder?”

“Because,” he says, taking her hand and leading her to the car. The more distance they bring between themselves and the house, the freer Scully feels. The tension leaves her body. “The Hendersons were our neighbors. That little baby girl? She grew up and used to babysit me. We came here when I was about 10 years old after I’d begged my parents. I haven’t been able to forget about this story ever since. Neither of us heard the three lost children though. But you did.”

“Mulder…”

“It’s okay. I know you don’t want to admit it. Most people don’t hear them. Only a few have reported the laughter and… feeling an evil presence in this house.” He touches her arm, strokes it gently. “Legend says only people who are pure of heart can hear the children.”

Scully snorts. “You had me until that last bit, Mulder.” He shrugs and smiles at her. “There is no case here, is there?”

“Oh, there is. But not here exactly. It’s further up north. I just wanted to take you here, share this with you. After… after everything.”

She bites her lip, but she can’t resist. “Have you ever taken Diana here?”

Mulder looks genuinely surprised. “No,” he says and she knows he’s telling the truth. “I never even thought about it.”

“Good,” she says and opens the car door. Mulder puts his hand over hers.

“I know it may take a while,” he says, his voice breaking. “But I want to win your trust back.”

“You never lost my trust,” she says. “And you and Diana… I know it’s none of my business and-“

“Of course it’s your business,” he cuts in. “It is your business. I want it to be. I thought I’d made that clear.”

“Clear, Mulder?” She raises an eyebrow. “When?”

“The hallway,” he says, his eyes fixed on hers. She blushes. “Taking you on all these adventures when we were off the X-Files. I mean it, Scully. I can’t do this alone. I don’t want to do it alone. I want you here by my side. If that’s what you want, too.”

She stares at the house, thinks about the Hendersons. He tore half of it down to repair something else, in a new place. Maybe they can too. She thinks of the laughter, of the three lost children, of the evil in this house. She doesn’t want to stay here in this place. She wants to move on, move past what’s holding her back.

Scully takes his hand and interlaces their fingers. They both stare at their hands as if they were a small wonder. Maybe they are.

“I want to be here, do this with you. I- I should probably tell you what I saw in there or what I thought I saw. Maybe there’s an X-Files here after all.”

“You don’t have to, X-Files or not.”

“I want to,” she says. “But not here. Let’s keep driving. Okay?”

He nods. “Just one thing before I lose my nerve again or before anything else happens.” He lowers his head, giving her ample time to move away. She won’t. She wants this. She’s been wanting it for so long. Their lips meet and everything around them stops mattering. It’s a soft kiss, a hesitant first. There’s still some rubble between them that they need to clean up.

There will be time to do that later.

“I’ve always wanted to make out at a haunted house,” Mulder admits when they disconnect. Her lipstick is smeared against his mouth, a bit on his cheek, too.

“Why am I not surprised?” she says with a smile.

“Let’s go. I think there’s something you wanted to tell me.”

[100layersofdaddyissues]

Angel - Chapter 5

AGHHHH I KNOW IM SORRY it was an involuntary hiatus brought on by the horrible holiday we call christmas, but its here, ive had this idea since the beginning so i hope you like it!

rach im sorry this ones for you my queen of angst i hope i did you proud

 In retrospect maybe taking personal leave directly after your fight with Maxwell probably didn't fit in with the image you wanted to portray to him, you’d hoped it looked as though you truly didn't care about what he said to you. But you did. You wish you didn't, honest, you'd been burnt by men before, you shouldn't have been surprised that once you caught feelings you would be in trouble. But you thought “if he truly doesn't care about me then it won't matter to him that I’m not there, he won't even notice.” you'd still been working from home, you've been keeping up all your professional correspondence, he won't notice, so why should you care about him either. 

           Little did you know however, that the morning after his outburst, Maxwell had returned to the apartment you had presided in, expecting you to be there. But you weren’t. He wanted to apologise, to grovel and fall to his knees and beg you to forgive him. To tell you that he was an idiot and he never meant to hurt you and that he, well, he had very strong feelings for you that were really, really beginning to scare him.

 That night had been the first time he'd ever lost sleep over something in years. 

           Ever since he had lost his fiancée, Alice, Max made sure to never become attached to anyone, knowing how much pain it will cause him when they inevitably leave. Everyone left, whether it be willingly or not. His grandparents left, his parents, the woman he would have died for, and now you. He wasn't sure where you fit in there, his grandparents taught him to find happiness in everything, his parents taught him how to live, how to run the business he loved so much, and Alice taught him to love. And you. You taught him how to love again, you taught him compassion and kindness that he'd long lost. Before you he had promised himself that he would never feel pain again. But here he was, dealing with the consequences of breaking that sacred rule, and he hated it. 

           Max had hoped that he'd perhaps be able to speak to you at work, get you alone in your office, sadistically, somewhere you couldn't escape him, but alas, when he arrived early in the morning, two coffees in hand, Sookie had been there to greet him, letting him know that you were taking leave and working from home. He didn't press the issue, in fact he didn't say anything, just mumbled a quiet “you have this then” while passing her the second coffee. 

           Maybe he could call you to apologise, but it seemed pathetic to him to even consider apologising over the phone, after what he had said to you, you truly deserved the most heartfelt apology he could muster. But as the days went on and turned into weeks with you not at the apartment or at work, he slowly gave up. Max’s head started to fill with thoughts that maybe you were preparing to leave the company, to leave him. He had convinced himself that if you stayed with the company then you were staying with him. 

He didn’t know why he had assumed that it would be easy, you’d proven to be anything but, he’d hoped he could just apologise, and then fuck you enough to prove it. But no. it wasn't going to be that easy.

           Maxwell didn't want to admit it. But he missed you. 

           For the first week he stayed at the apartment every night, away from his home, just hoping that you would return for something. All of the clothes he'd paid for were still there, the kitchen was still stocked, you'd even left cigarettes in a pack on the balcony. It hurt to see how quickly you'd left him; you were obviously rushing to get away from him. He really fucked up. And he had no idea how to fix it. 

           He really fucking missed you. How soft your lips were, your cheeks reminded him of soft marshmallows for some reason. He missed the way the sun used to hit your face in the mornings as he was getting ready to leave the apartment, you always looked so beautiful, the golden light bathing you in a constant glow, he always felt content in those moments. Like nothing could ever go wrong or be bad, he simply let himself live in that moment, pretending that he could stay like that forever. And for some reason, he had convinced himself that h couldn’t stay. Every morning like that, where he left, the pain inside of him grew deeper and more unbearable. 

           And now all of that was gone, and it was his fault. 

You missed him too. You hadn't left your apartment in almost three weeks, and you had intended for it to stay that way until Jade had shown up at your apartment this morning. 

           “Listen, I'm sorry that Mr. Handsome was a cunt, but I did warn you, you can't wallow here for the rest of your life. You've kept the job, and your apartment is dirt cheap, so I know you're loaded, you know what that means? We're going day drinking.” 

           “I don't want to go day drinking. I want to sit in my cocoon and rewatch the Brady Bunch, I'm not hurting anyone.” you said trying to release from her grasp. You had no intentions of being seen in public. 

           “Well too fucking bad, George is going to be here soon and he’s bringing me a friend, so you can’t fuck this up because I’ve been trying to get Robert to ask me out for weeks. We're going.” she said, beginning to pull out your makeup and go through it. 

           You walked towards her to ask what she was looking for until you clocked what she had said. “Wait did you just say George? As in George, my ex-coworker? Why is he coming over?” you asked your tone growing in urgency as your questions progressed. 

           “Well, when I was talking to him, he asked where you been, so I explained that you'd been working for Maxwell lord and that you’d not left your room in weeks after a big fight with your boss I’m not an id- OW! why are you throwing things at me?” 

           “Because! When George saw me on the street that night, I told him that it had been a fight with my boyfriend! Now he's going to think Maxwell was my boyfriend! I'm in so much trouble if he tells anyone that!” You refused to panic. At least that's what you were telling yourself as you got more and more breathless, you're truly trying not to panic but god is it hard to convince your brain not to have an anxiety attack. 

           “Listen Y/N if he thinks Max is your boyfriend so what, he isn't anymore, so what's the deal?” how Jade could be so nonchalant about this began to frustrate you, this could ruin you. Didn't she realise that? “Get up and shower I’m sure they are almost here.” apparently not. 

And surely enough, just after you had gotten dressed there was a loud knock at the door, Jade went to answer it, hoping to distract the boys while you threw your hair together. 

You overheard their idle chatter, something about the work at halo being boring and Henry being a dick. Nothing you didn't already know. 

As you emerged you saw the two boys sitting on your couch and Jade standing in the kitchen. You'd never realised how small this apartment was until you were sitting here with others and everything felt so cramped. You missed your place with Max. you shouldn't say that. It wasn't your house with him. It was his place. You were staying there.    

“Hey guys! Sorry I was just fixing up my hair, should we head?” you try to sound as cheery as you could. You were not ready for this day. 

George slipped past you, saying something about “I just need the loo, I can lock up and meet you downstairs.” yeah, like you were going to let him do that, deciding to shoot jade and Robert downstairs, telling them you'd wait for George to get out and then come downstairs with him. 

He was taking an unusually long time in the bathroom, and all you could think was “dear god please tell me he's not pooping in there,” as you went to knock on the door to check if he was okay, you heard a loud bang, felt unbearable heat, and then, saw only black. 

 Maxwell had been staring out his window all day, he wasn't sure why, but he had been compelled to stare at the skyline, take in how beautiful the city really was. Returning from his office he sat down to do the exact thing he had been doing all morning, until he noticed a pillar of smoke coming from the south side of the city. A bolt of fear ran through him as he remembered picking Y/N up from her apartment in the south downtown area of DC. 

Immediately he called his assistant for the week and told her to access employee records for Y/N’s address, then he called the Fire Chief for the DC area, asking for the address of the most current fire that he can see burning from his window. And his worst fear was realised. They're the same address, it's Y/N’s apartment that's up in flames, and he's sitting in his high rise just watching it happen. 

Maxwell stormed out of his office yelling at the girl to have Darius in the car waiting for him at the front doors by the time he gets down to them or she's fired. Logically he knew that she had no control over that, but he was in a rush and he didn't care to care about her. He didn't even know her name. Something with a B maybe? This is not what he should be thinking about right now. 

He should be thinking about how the second chance he had at love was in danger and he had no idea what to do except go to her. That's if she even still lived there, what if she moved and she was absolutely fine, and here he was running around like a headless chicken hoping that she was okay when she could be fine; “yeah,” he thought, “she’s fine, I’m just going to go check up on the building just in case she's there and if she isn't then I will just go back to the office.” yeah because it was going to be that simple. Everything leading up to this point sure has been. 

“Master Lord, I have to ask why we were driving to the downtown area in the middle of the workday?” Darius asked him with a careless tone as if he was expecting Maxwell to say that he just wanted a coffee.        

“I have reason to believe Y/N is in trouble and I would like to ensure that she's not, now is that okay with you?” Maxwell knew he was being an ass, but he also knew that Darius cared for her too and that was accentuated in the way he stepped on the gas not saying a word, as if speed limits were not a problem. 

They were outside the apartment building in less than ten minutes, Maxwell racing out of the car before it was even parked. He stood in front of the building gulfed in flames staring at it feeling a sense of hopelessness. 

“Oh no you fucking don’t, Mister.” he heard someone say but barely paid any attention until a young woman got up in his face. “I’m talking to you Richie Rich what the fuck do you think you’re doing here? You yell at her, make her miserable, don't speak to her for weeks and then suddenly when she's in trouble you're here? To what? save the day? Sorry to break it to you dude but money is an accelerant so it’s probably best that you fuck off.” she shouted at him. He had no idea who this woman was but from what he had heard she obviously knew Y/N. 

“Wait she's in trouble? She's in there?” he didn't even think to ask who she was all he wanted to know was if she was okay.

“Yes, she's in there, fires have been burning long enough for you to get down here do you see her on a stretcher? No, she's still in there, my best friend is in there and if she doesn't come out of there alive, I'm going to blame you. if it weren't for you going all macho alpha bullshit man then she wouldn’t have felt the need to leave that apartment up town, she wouldn't have moved back into this shit hole, and she would have been at work today instead of watching brady bunch reruns for the last 12 days straight. So, for your sake you better hope she comes out of there alive or I’m going to kill you for killing her.” Max had barely had the time to process the thought before he was tearing up, light sniffles coming from his nose as he tried to hold them back. 

“Right, you're ahh… you're completely right, this is my fault, and believe me, I wish nothing more than to be able to take that night back, to make sure it never happened, because all I want right now is to hold her, and, and tell her, tell her that I love her. Because I do. I really do, and if I never get the chance to tell her that then I promise you can blame me forever and make my life a living hell but right now, all I want to do is focus on getting her out of there alive so excuse me for just one second please.” Maxwell walked away from her after saying his piece walking directly to the man who looked to be in charge of the fight.

“Excuse me, hi, I’m going to need you to go immediately to 21b and save the woman in there, she is of utmost importance do you hear me?”

“Sir, I'm sorry but we're going apartment by apartment trying to get everyone out. We can't just take priority for some girl,” the man said to him, slightly condescending as if he hadn't just asked the man to save the love of his life. 

‘Here, you take this,'' Maxwell said while fishing out his wallet and handing the man his ID card, “and I’m going to call Chief Wallace, shall I? Or are we going to stop wasting time and you’re going to go get my girl out of that fucking building son?” Max’s tone was commanding, he would get what he wanted, and he knew that much. 

           “Yes sir, I’ll go retrieve her myself right away.” the man said while running towards his truck, Maxwell presumed for him to suit up. 

           As he walked back towards the group that Darius had now joined, the woman, whose name he still couldn't remember or hadn't been told, had a relieved and vaguely smug look on her face. “You know she's going to kill you when she finds out you manipulated the fire department into saving her first right?” she said watching Y/N’s window for any sign of movement. 

           “I know, but it's worth the price to have her here to threaten to kill me.” he said staring at the same window.

           “Sorry, I know that was really rude of me, I’m Jade, I'm not sure if Y/N has mentioned me, this is Robert and George, two of our friends, guys this is Max, Y/N’s... Friend?” 

           “Yeah, I think it's best we go with a friend for now. I'd like to live long enough to be able to change that.” Maxwell slightly chuckled. He felt lighter, she wasn't safe but the hope he felt made him feel better. 

           Until he saw he being carried out, on the right side of her body her skin was burnt, he clothes blackened and singed, she looked lifeless, Maxwell heard nothing but silence and the ringing in his ears as he ran to take her from the man, Maxwell took her from his arms, and fell to the floor, he watched her, waiting for movement, and like the glimmer of hope he had held on to paid off, her chest moved slowly and minutely, but it moved, she was breathing. 

           Maxwell let go then, as he held her to him and sobbed into her, pushing the hair out of her face, being careful not to touch her skin while the paramedics brought over a stretcher, he didn't want to let her go, he just got her back he couldn't let her go. 

           He couldn't hear anyone, but he felt a hand on his shoulder and Jade's sympathetic eyes filled with her own tears staring down at her. That compelled him to stand up and lay her on the stretcher. The paramedics asked if he wanted to ride to hospital with her, but he looked at Jade and gestured for her to go. He knew that if she woke up on the way, the first face she saw after almost dying shouldn't be the man that put her in that situation. 

           He followed the ambulance into the city, finding jade within minutes, they sat in the waiting room for 8 hours, just hoping for some good news, they talked about how Max and Y/N met and how he knew he was in love and everything he can't wait to do with her if she gives him the chance. The conversation lulled around hour 5 with Jade opting to nap in the highly uncomfortable hospital chairs, urging Maxwell to follow in her suit but he couldn't sleep until he knew how she was. He needed answers the moment they were available to him. 

           By the time it was almost hour 9 a doctor came to them. 

“She's going to be just fine, the burns aren't too severe, however she did inhale a lot of smoke shop she's going to be rusty on the talking for a few days and her respiratory system is going to take a while to recover, so it's up to you to make sure she doesn't overexert herself okay? Other than that, she’s out of surgery, so you can go see her, but just make sure it's only 1-2 people at a time. This is a very traumatic time for her and it's only going to get worse before it gets better but I’m sure with a husband like you it won't be so hard for her to recover.” the doctor finished with a small smile and then walked back down the hall to attend to other patients he assumed. 

           Husband. She thought he was Y/N’s husband. And honestly, he didn't want to correct her on it. He liked the idea of being her husband. Even if it wasn't real. 

           “Hey Jade, come on wake up, we can go see her now.” Jade sat bolt upright when she heard those words. Asking for her room number and bolting towards the door, with Maxwell following behind slowly. He reached her door and saw her sleeping, so peacefully, the LED lights of the hospital only served to make her look more pale and sickly than she already was, but she still looked beautiful to him. Absolutely perfect. 

           Just before he could join Jade in the room his cell began to ring. “Maxwell Lord.” he answered, not expecting any calls on this thing, it’s 1984 who has this phone number? 

           “Mr. Lord I’m sorry to interrupt you, I know you're extremely busy with your wife, but I just had a matter to discuss with you about the fire in her building.” The man on the other end, Chief Wallace, sounded nervous, almost trembling, “I'm not entirely sure how to explain this, but preliminary investigation we conducted into the cause of the fire has indicated that the fire was started in Ms. Y/L/N’s apartment.” 

“I'm afraid we're going to need to question her when she becomes lucid enough for a police interview.”

tags: @innerstrawberrypolice​ @maxlordsgf​ @mrschiltoncat​ @historianwithaheart​