#also. merry christmas to everyone reading these tags who celebrates.

[creatediana]

A half-assed whiteboard imitation of Evelyn de Morgan’s The Love Potion (1903), done in a few minutes in Expo marker on 12/05/2022

[seokgyuu]

→ GENRE: smut, college au, crack, → PAIRING: Vernon x Afab!Fem!Reader (Feat. Soonyoung x Afab!Fem!Reader & Chan x Afab!Fem!Reader) → SYNOPSIS: you have never been a person who turns down a challenge, but when your best friend challenges you to hook up with 13 boys in one semester you kind of wish you were.

→ WARNINGS: angst in this chapter, shower sex, unprotected sex (you know... that's just who she is, like fr, all of the sex in this is unprotected), cumming in pants (m), virgin!vernon, cum eating, angry sex, usage of the words "baby", "princess", dirty talk, Mommy!Kink (Vernon)

→WORD COUNT: 13k

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A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! Or happy holidays for those of you who don't celebrate! For this year I thought I'd give you a treat in the form of a new chapter of everyone's favorite shit show, lmao. We are actually nearing the end - only one more chapter left of the regular scheduled content aka after next chapter every single member of svt got his own time to shine (some even... more than once). I honestly don't know how this happened, this was supposed to be a funny little smut fest and now it's literally almost 100k words of filth and drama. Thank you for reading this and sticking by it for the past 3 years! I also want to thank @bitchlessdino for betaing this chapter <3 And now enjoy the ride!

Also: I opened a ko-fi! If any of you want to support me through that, I would be extremely thankful! If not that is also completely fine of course! Remember that reblogs and asks is what keeps us as a writing community going, so please, if you like my work consider reblogging with feedback <3. Happy holidays!

taglist:  @ariachavez168, @sandcasltes, @amiga-qmilagraso, @learnthisfeeling, @cersti-mo0, @nixtape-foryou, @minahoeshi, @listxn, @starlight-night0, @havetaeminforbreakfast, @kwonranghae, @haogyuslut, @a-dramatic-girl, @lovercuff, @grapefruithan, @whyokoa, @lovercheol, @cosmicupoftea, @knucklesdeepmingi, @wonusworldd, @baldi-2, @seventeencaratworld, @kingalls00, @1-800-jeonwonwoo, @hoeforhao, @p-dwiddle-blog, @tsukimiyuukun, @urfavtallgirl222, @jordand2012, @lcvejordyn, @jeanjacketjesus, @gaebestie, @hara-98-fan, @human-wthout-dreams, @eburneon, @xiusmarshmallow, @spbrax, @speaknowlwt, @lvlyjisung @yogurttea, @novalpha, @woo8hao, @hgma @akemiixx01, @volitina @haoxiaoba @justhere4kpop @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken, @miriamxsworld, @lexix001, @avyskai @punkhazardlaw, @lostmembrane, @magicshop1913 @tigerhoshii You can join the taglist here. If you're user is crossed out, I was not able to tag you!

The whole thing was like a blur. One second you were in the car with Seungcheol, the next you were outside, hearing your best friend yell at you. Her whole face was red, her eyes wide and her mouth moving as the worst insults left her lips. The worst thing was, you couldn’t even be mad at her. You couldn’t even be offended because she was right.

Her brother tried to calm her down, but the look she gave him made even Seungcheol back down. In all your years of friendship with Jiwoo, you had never seen her this mad. She suddenly looked way taller than she actually was, taller than Seungcheol, taller than your apartment complex. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She now asked for the nth time and you once again didn’t know how to respond.

“Jiwoo, I-,”

“You really couldn’t see the very clear invisible boundary that you’re not supposed to fuck my brother?”

“How can it be clear when it’s invisible?” You responded without giving it much thought. Jiwoo’s head turned even redder and Seungcheol sighed, closing his eyes as he let his head fall to look at his shoes.

“Oh my god, you know what I mean! Y/N, you can’t seriously think it’s okay to sleep with my brother behind my back!” 

“I never- fuck, Jiwoo, I’m sorry, okay? I really- I didn’t plan for this to happen. After the first time I really wanted to end it, but-,”

“The first time?!” Jiwoo gasped and you noticed your mistake too late. Seungcheol rubbed a hand over his face, stepping closer again, wanting to get in between you two.

“Jiwoo-yah, please, don’t make this a bigger deal than it is.”

“A big deal you say? You mean as big of a deal as you made it when you found out I slept with Taehyung one time?”

Seungcheol’s jaw tightened. You looked between him and his sister, chewing on your bottom lip. There really wasn’t anything for you to say to make this any less bad. You had betrayed her trust, had lied about who you had slept with when you had actually slept with Seungcheol. You had been avoiding her, having Soonyoung be something like a freaking owl between you. Sighing, you pulled a hand through your hair.

“You’re right, I did cross a boundary. I- I should have told you and I shouldn’t have avoided you. I am sorry, Jiwoo, I truly am.” 

She turned back to you, her eyes still full of fire, no sign of forgiveness. Seungcheol looked over at you too, his gaze unsure. 

“Can you promise that it won’t happen again?”

The silence that followed the question, even if it only lasted a few seconds, spoke more than any of your words could have.

Jiwoo snorted, shaking her head.

“You know what, go right ahead. I should have known at one point you would do just about anything to finish this stupid challenge. You never respected any fucking boundaries, you slept with Soonyoung when I told you I wanted to, you slept with Wonwoo even when you already knew he had feelings for you. You don’t care about anyone but yourself, Y/N, you just want to win, prove yourself to whoever the fuck. Most certainly not to me because if that was the case you wouldn’t have fucked my god damn brother!”

Without waiting for an answer, Jiwoo turned around and stormed off, most probably to her car. You couldn’t move even a single muscle. It was as if she had pushed you right off the edge of all the anxiety you had been feeling these past weeks. As much as you felt like crying, you couldn’t. 

“She-”, Seungcheol’s voice seemed distant, even though he was right next to you. Perhaps you were now stuck in your own little bubble, far, far away from everyone, only close to yourself and the knowledge you had hurt the one person who meant most to you. 

“She didn’t mean it, Y/N, she is just angry right now.” His hands were on your shoulders and as soft as his touch was, as much did it burn. You shook your head.

“No, she is right. I don’t respect boundaries, I- I forget about them, I just do whatever I feel like doing. I- god, I slept with Seokmin today, right outside your office, all for you to hear, I- I made you angry, I manipulate people, I-,”

“No, don’t do this,” Seungcheol interrupted you, “you don’t get to make yourself feel worse. I told you to sleep with Seokmin. Hell, I told you to sleep with three people to get this challenge over with.”

He wanted to make you feel better, you knew that. He wanted for you to not spiral and fall into a whole of self pity and self hatred but it was too late. You were already there.

“I need to go, I need to- I need to be alone, okay?” You ignored the hurt in his eyes, the obvious need to hold you close, to comfort you. Right now, you couldn’t. Acting like you hadn’t just lost your best friend of years and years, acting like you hadn’t been a horrible person, that all of the things she said hadn’t been right. 

Without saying another word, you turned away from Cheol and walked to your complex, typing in the code and finally letting the tears fall freely. 

-

A week went by. A week filled with nothing but you and your self pity as well as self hatred that made you turn off your phone and cry into your pillow for as long as you could before all of your tears dried out. You had done this to yourself - all of it. If you had done what you had known was right, none of this would be happening right now. Jiwoo would still speak to you and perhaps you could have seen Mingyu again, could have spent hours just forgetting about that stupid challenge and feel like you had any other purpose than this. It was silly really, how much this had changed your life. If for better or worse… debatable. Right now it was definitely worse. 

On Saturday Soonyoung decided it was done though. Your pity-party had to come to an end. Jiwoo had told him all about your fight and when she had read on his face that he had known about you and Seungcheol, she had called him an asshole and left. So, now he was here, 8 pm sharp at your door, banging on your door and almost gasping in shock when he saw the state you were in. Your hair was greasy and your eyes swollen, the clothes you were wearing had probably been on your frame for more than just a few days and judging by the way you were holding a bucket of ice cream pressed against your chest, you probably hadn’t had any real food in god knows how long.

“Y/N…,” Soonyoung sighed and you rolled your eyes.

“What are you doing here? Isn’t my not answering any calls enough hints that I don’t want to talk or see anyone?”

“How do you know I called you when your phone is off, hm?” Without waiting for you to answer and completely ignoring your complaints, he squeezed into your apartment and closed the door behind him, the grin on his face almost scaring you.

“We’re going to a party, babes,” he then said and you laughed, getting your spoon out of the pocket of your sweats, ready to dip it back into the cookie dough ice cream. Soonyoung gasped for real now, grabbing the spoon out of your hands and shaking his head.

“Abso-fucking-lutely not, Y/N. Go take a shower. Maybe even two, for Christ’s sake. And then, I don’t know, look in the mirror and try a smile.” 

His words made heat rush to your cheeks and you found yourself scratching the back of your head as you slowly made your way to the bathroom not even sure how he managed to change your mind so quickly. But perhaps a shower wasn’t such a bad idea. Showers always helped to make you feel better after a hard time and if this wasn’t a hard time you didn’t know what was. 

So, standing in the bathroom, a soft towel pressed against your naked body, you chewed on your bottom lip and finally stepped into the shower, towel set aside on the toilet seat. The second warm water started running down your body, the tension of the past days seemed to finally leave your body. You didn’t feel as sore anymore, as sad, as useless. Less like the worst human on this planet, who didn’t care about anyone but herself. Your eyes flew open, seeing only the already wet tiles staring back at you. The sound of the water hitting the floor mixed with the blood rushing in your head gave you a sense of steadiness as well as made you feel like you were about to pass out. Tears were about to well up again, tears you were sure had already grown tired of leaving your body. 

“No crying in the shower, you hear me?” Soonyoung’s voice echoed through the door and you felt the sob in your throat turn to a choked laugh, your head turning to the door. An idea popped into your head. Clearing your throat, you slowly moved the glass door to the side.

“Soonyoung?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you…want to join me?” 

The silence only lasted for a few seconds before you heard something like a thump noise and the door opening around ten seconds later. There he stood, Soonyoung, in his naked glory a big grin on his face as he stepped under the shower, your back hitting the wall you had stared at just a few seconds before.

“To what do I owe the honor?” He asked, his hands creeping around your waist. You shrugged.

“I thought you wanted to help me get my mind of things?”

“And that's how to do it?” He asked, smirking. 

“We can shower together, make out a little…,” your hands moved up his torso, stopping at the sides of his neck, tongue licking over your lips, “maybe more… we’ll see.”

No further words were exchanged when he dipped down to kiss you, one hand on your cheek, the other on your hip, his already half hard cock pressing against your stomach as you let your arms wrap fully around him. Your eyes closed as you let him lead the kiss, his tongue now devouring yours, every touch of his setting you on fire, giving you new energy. You let every bad thought leave your body, instead let him enter it - metaphorically as well as physically. His fingers made you arch your back and his lips sucked softly on your nipples, and when he finally sunk into you, his cock stretching you out as good as it had back then, it seemed as if you had never felt anything bad ever in your life. 

“God, not gonna lie, missed your tight little cunt, baby,” he breathed against your ear, your legs wrapped around him, teeth sunken into your bottom lip as you let him fuck you into your wall, droplets of water running down both of your bodies, his cock hitting the perfect spot over and over until he made you cum, your moans echoeing through the room like a song he could never get enough of. He pulled out of you, jerking himself off as he kissed you hard, his seed soon getting washed away with the rest of the metaphorical dirt you had felt on your body for days. 

After, Soonyoung helped you pick out an outfit for the party, comfortably seated on your bed, his legs crossed and his face red from the shower. He was seriously adorable. 

“I like the black dress, it’s super sexy,” he said as you were holding up said black and a rosy pink dress. You pursed your lips and nodded, hanging the pink dress back into the closet and walking over to the mirror, holding the black dress against your frame. It was tight, but didn’t show any cleavage with its almost turtleneck-like cut. Was this what you were going for? Sexy? You clicked your tongue and turned back around, placing the dress on the bed before slipping into some underwear that wasn’t necessarily extremely sexy but also sexy enough for anyone to see (if you somehow managed to score in your current mindset). 

“Where are we going by the way?” You asked Soonyoung now and the man shrugged, grabbing his phone.

“Not too sure, actually. Like I know where it is, but that’s about all the information I got from my source.”

“Your “source”? What are you?  An investigative journalist?” You chuckled and Soonyoung grinned at you, eyes on you instead of his phone for a short while. 

“Maybe.” 

Laughing, you finally slip on the dress and walk over to the mirror again, eyeing yourself cautiously. Yes, this was good. This made you look hot and also sophisticated, made you feel confident and less like a failure. You smiled. Soonyoung had a good eye for dresses, apparently.

When you finished applying your make-up and Soonyoung had also gotten ready, you found yourself in the backseat of a cab, not paying much attention to where you were going as you were busy finally turning your phone back on, Soonyoungs portable charger plugged into it. Anxiety rushed through you, when the lock screen lit up and was flooded with countless notifications once you had typed in your pin-code. Missed calls from Mingyu, Seungcheol and Soonyoung. Messages from all of them, as well, plus a group chat for a project you had completely forgotten about. Your friend next to you eyed you worriedly.

“Perhaps you should have done that tomorrow.” He scolded you, snatching the phone from your hands to lock it and shove it in the pocket of his oversized denim jacket. You pouted, crossing your arms before looking out the window. Seoul passed by your eyes, lights everywhere and you noticed how much you had actually missed leaving the house. The last time you had been this upset, it had also resolved around Jiwoo. But back then, it had ended well, the two of you had found your way back, mayhaps even stronger than before. But this? You weren’t so sure you could come back. It shouldn’t be as big of a deal as it was, you thought. So what, you slept with her brother? He was his own person! He could make his own decisions! Fine, you lied to her about it. Lied for weeks and weeks. You felt small again, suddenly, wondering if you even deserved Jiwoo to ever forgive you for betraying her like this. Her words still stung and you knew that while she was angry, being that mean hadn’t been fair. 

“We’re here!” Soonyoung grinned at you, handing the cab-driver his card and thanking him, before opening the door and helping you out, your hand in his. When your feet touched the ground, the door closing behind you, you finally took in the surroundings. And felt yourself almost falling right into Soonyoung’s chest. 

“Tell me, god fucking hell, Soonyoung, tell me that this is not the house the party is at.”

Soonyoung blinked, his arm wrapped around your waist to steady you after you had almost tripped.

“Uh… it’s not?” He tried, but judging by the way he said it, you knew it wasn’t true. You closed your eyes. Pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Soonyoung-ah,” you start, “was your source Joshua?”

Silence. Soonyoung stays fucking silent. You feel heat arise within you and it’s not the kind you had felt earlier when you had asked him to join you in the shower. It’s anger, fueled by Soonyoung’s carelessness and his obvious stupidity. Bringing you to a party at Joshua’s place? Joshua who was roommates with Mingyu? Mingyu, who you had been ignoring for the past week, who had called you and texted you, the only thing missing was him barging through your door! 

“I’m sorry! See, I thought you would never go if you knew!”

“Well, you’re correct! Do you know how many of them will be there? Haven’t I been through enough already?!” You slapped his shoulder and Soonyoung winced, holding the spot with wide eyes.

“Oh, come on! I get it, alright? You fucked it up with Jiwoo. Jesus, so did I!”

Now it’s you who blinked at him, confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, did you forget that she also has to fuck people? A significantly lower number than you, yes, but still! And, well- I was one of them.”

It didn’t surprise you, not really. But it still made something inside you sting.

“And why did you fuck it up with her?” You asked quietly. Soonyoung sighed.

“When I heard about your fight I took your side. I told her that there are worse things than you sleeping with her brother. That, even though I understand it sucks that you lied to her, it wasn’t like you killed someone, or did something illegal. You just slept with him!”

Yeah, and kind of gave him hope there would be more. After the challenge. You pressed your lips together. 

“But, well, Jiwoo didn’t like it. And she kind of guessed that I knew about it.”

“You like her, don’t you?” You found yourself asking him the second he finished his sentence, catching him off guard. He cleared his throat, fixing the collar on his jacket.

“It’s not that I didn’t like her, Y/N. But she went completely nuts over this, so out of character. I was confused and hurt that she threw this at me, that she said I owed it to her. As if because we were seeing each other casually, mind you, she still had other people to fuck, I suddenly became only hers and not your friend.”

They were seeing each other. Your stomach dropped and you felt like you were about to actually pass out.

“You were seeing her? And you still- you still had sex with me today?!”

“Woah, okay, I see how this can be confusing, but, Y/N, it was never serious. It wasn’t exclusive. We slept together a couple of times and had a few dates, but that’s it! I’m pretty sure I saw you more than her.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You watched his face, saw the way his eyes shift, how the wheels turn behind them and something told you, that you probably already knew the answer. You decided to stay silent.

“I just- I don’t know, I really don’t know.”

It was a lie, but neither of you exposed it as such. 

-

You ended up inside anyway. Fleeing from whatever was going on with Soonyoung, you were in desperate need of a drink. The familiar space was packed with people - courtesy of the apartment being big enough to hold that many. In addition to Mingyu’s room and the bathroom, there was a relatively big kitchen, a living space and, of course, Joshua’s room. The doors to the bedrooms were closed and upon seeing Mingyu’s, you felt guilt and shame creep up your spine. He was here somewhere, maybe drinking, maybe kissing another girl. And if that last thing turned out to be true, you knew you couldn’t even be mad at him. You had basically abandoned him for a week. After he had proven to be incredibly sweet and understanding, you had decided to just ignore him, to leave him in the dark, to forget all about him. 

While you did see a few familiar faces (Seungkwan was chatting with Minghao in the kitchen and Jun was downing a bottle of vodka with a guy you didn’t know), Mingyu was nowhere to be seen. Only when you reached the living room did you spot one one of the hosts. Joshua was wearing a tight dark blue turtle-neck and perfectly fitting black slacks, his hair was up and only a few strands fell into his remarkable face. He spotted you right as you walked through the door, a hint of surprise on his face. He excused himself to the girl he was talking to and walked over to you, eyebrow raised.

“Y/N,” he said, “you’re alive.”

You deserved that. Maybe not from him, but in general. You cleared your throat.

“Seems like it.”

“Where were you? I had to physically restrict Mingyu from running to your place countless times.”

Your heart dropped once more on this night. Heat erupted on your face and you let your head drop for just a second, before looking back up at the man who had been the one to start off this stupid challenge.

“I was at home. I… wasn’t feeling too well. Is Mingyu here?”

Joshua didn’t seem too pleased with your answer, but decided to not pester you any further. Instead, he shook his head as he crossed his arms.

“Not yet. He is getting more drinks. Speaking of, should we get you one?” 

You followed Joshua back to the kitchen, Soonyoung somewhere lost in the crowd, apparently. After your little talk, he had excused himself to the bathroom first thing and if you were being honest, you weren’t too keen on seeing him right now anyway. You let Joshua mix you a drink, thanking him with a more or less honest smile when he handed it to you. He himself took a sip from the fresh bottle of beer he had taken for himself out of the fridge, eyeing you over it now.

“Mingyu told me about the challenge.”

You almost dropped your cup. 

“He did what?”

“Ah, don’t be mad at him. He kind of tells me everything, you know,” Joshua’s smug smile made you want to punch him in the face. You decided against it mainly because causing a scene wasn’t on your to do list tonight. Neither was talking to Joshua, though. Still, here you were. 

“So, does this mean I was number one?” Jesus Christ, you rolled your eyes.

“Yes. And that’s the only number one you’ll ever be in my book.”

“Ouch.” He was still grinning. Even more than before. How on earth could he have played the part as the cute and innocent barista so well, when in reality he was nothing but a cocky fuck boy? It was official: you needed to get away from him asap. But when you turned, you suddenly felt like your feet had been glued to the ground because why the fuck was Vernon walking into the kitchen right then and there?

He saw you the same time you did and the look on his face was a mixture of shock and confusion. It had been weeks since the… incident at Mr. Choi’s office and while he hadn’t seen you in the flesh since then, he sure as hell had thought of you. His cheeks began burning when he saw the suspicion in your eyes and when you came over to him and his two friends, he literally felt like all of his wet dreams and fantasies about you were suddenly out on display. 

“Did Seungcheol send you?” Was the first thing you said to him and poor, poor Vernon could only shake his silly head and point at Hyunggu and Seungyoun over his shoulder with a shaking hand.

“N-No, I came with my friends.” You followed where he was pointing with your eyes and the two young men behind him waved at you rather confusedly. You clicked your tongue and nodded, turning back to look at Vernon. 

Vernon, who was out of the usual suit you had seen him in before. He was wearing a dark t-shirt and dark jeans, a necklace adjourning his slim upper body. His hair was messy, but a good kind of messy, that kind of messy you wanted to claw your hands into. Taking a sip from your drink, you contemplated. Seeing Vernon here, out of all places, seemed almost too much of a nudge in his direction. When Seungcheol hadn’t been the one to send him here and it was pure coincidence, didn’t this mean something? As much as it had bothered you that Seungcheol had wanted to decide this challenge for you, it now seemed to come in handy. 

Licking over your lips, you took another step towards Vernon, one hand reaching for the small cross necklace he was wearing and letting it slip through your fingers. Your eyes stayed on the silver for a second before looking up and seeing his gaze, his red cheeks and the mouth that hung slightly agape. You smiled.

“How do you know the hosts?” You asked. Vernon needed a few seconds to regain composure.

“I, uh, I don’t actually. Hyunggu is, uhm, he works at the same coffee shop as J-Joshua.” He explained and you nodded, still playing with the jewelry. The poor man in front of you was close to losing his mind once more. 

“I see. Well, this seems fated, doesn’t it, Vernon?” Your voice was merely a whisper when you leaned forward, your lips meeting his ear, causing a shiver to run down his spine. Vernon didn’t know what to say to that. In fact, he didn’t know what to say ever again. His ability to speak had been ripped from him - by you and the way you looked at him, the way your breath hit his neck and ear. 

The thing was - you had kind of ruined everything for him. There was no porn he could watch that could even come close to what had happened at Mr. Choi’s office. At some point he had tried finding women who looked like you in the videos, tried to replace your image with theirs, but nothing would work. More often than not he would find himself with his hand full of lube, eyes squeezed shut, imagining you and the way your pussy had looked all wet and ready just that this time it was his cock that was about to fuck you stupid. 

So, when he felt your hand wrap around his wrist he didn’t even think about stopping you. He let you lead him into one of the bedrooms, let you sit him down on the bed, your legs on either side of him as you began straddling him. His head was in a haze, no thought to be thunk, only your lips on his, your tongue inside his mouth and finally your hips grinding against his extremely hard cock. 

Somehow his hands had landed on your back while yours laid on his shoulders, slowly moving up to cup his face as you kept on grinding down on him. Vernon’s head was spinning. 

“You’re so hard already, can feel you against my pussy, Vernonie…,” you whined against his ear and his eyes opened, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing on this earth. No words were able to leave his mouth, though. He could only nod and move his arms around you, finding himself rutting his erection against your core, catching you off guard. The moan that escaped you got him close to cumming right then and there.

“F-fuck, bet you can fuck me so good, baby,” you said before moving down to kiss his neck, his hips still moving up, chasing his own high.

“Shit!” His eyes rolled back when you found an especially sensitive spot on his neck, your tongue dragging over it just as your hand opened his jeans and slipped into them and his briefs - causing Vernon’s eyes to fly open and look at you in shock.

“W-wait I-,” he began, but the second your hand touched his bare cock, he couldn’t stop it. 

“O-oh, n-gh, f-fuck,” he whimpered as he came onto your hand and into his underwear - thick ropes of white and hot cum leaving you with your mouth dropped in surprise. 

His head dropped onto your shoulder as he tried to steady his breathing. Shame crept over him and he swallowed hard before he dared to look at you again.

“I’m sorry, I, fuck, I, uh- I’m a virgin.”

And scene. 

“You’re a what?” You stumbled out, the shock ever so present on your face. Vernon felt his face heat up.

“A... a virgin.”

Slowly, you pulled your hand out of his pants, looking at the stickiness he had left on it for a second before licking it off, your eyes not leaving his face. Vernon felt his cock twitch and a whimper escaping him. You were gonna be the death of him, he just knew it.

“Cheol doesn’t know that, does he?” You asked once your hand was clean and Vernon was already a little hard again. Vernon shook his head and you sighed.

“Well, I certainly won’t take your virginity for this stupid challenge, so…,” you stood up from his lap and looked at the mess he (or you?) had made, clicking your tongue before looking around the room and walking to one of the drawers on the side. You haven’t been in Joshua’s room before, but you definitely had not wanted to take Vernon to Mingyu’s room to fuck him. Or, well, not fuck him. You opened the first drawer and found yourself successful, grabbing one of Joshua's neatly folded pairs of underwear and throwing it at Vernon who caught it, with a somewhat horrified look on his face.

“Change into that. Don’t want you walking around with pants full of cum, baby.” You winked at him, and Vernon turned even more red. He mumbled a quick thank you and you chuckled, closing the drawer again, before walking to the door to go back to the party. 

Just that, once the door was open, you were met by yet another familiar face. Chan was leaning against the wall, talking to some girl, a drink in his hand. When the door opened, it was more like a reflex to look at who came out - never had he expected to see you or the dude stumbling over his own feet behind you. His brows shot up and your jaw tightened. 

“Now, who do we have here,” he says, the girl next to him forgotten, “you don’t pass up any dick, do you?” 

Your veins began burning. Anger, raw and so real like back when Chan and you had seen each other last. Your hands were balled into fists in no time and you somehow succeeded in moving, ready to leave the party for all you cared, but Chan was quicker than you. He grabbed your wrist and held you back, pushing you into the kitchen, where music was now blasting as well, music that rang in your ears as you were pressed against the wall right next to the door. 

“What the fuck do you want?” You spat out, trying to free yourself, but Chan just grinned down at you, his head slightly tilted.

“Just trying to make sense of you, princess,” was his awful reply. You scoffed, shaking your head and looking to the side, seeing that Vernon had escaped the bedroom now, closing the door and hurrying into the living room. 

“You should leave me alone,” you breathed out finally and Chan leaned forward, his lips right by your ear.

“I can’t really hear you, you know?”

You closed your eyes. Was he kidding? He had dragged you in here. He had chosen this god forsaken kitchen as the place he wanted to talk to you in. When you opened your eyes again, you saw in his eyes what you hadn’t before. Want, need. He was desperate for you. He craved you - had probably been lurking around your apartment, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. But you hadn’t come out, you had stayed inside and now that he finally saw you… 

“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” you say now, his eyes still boring into yours. Something flickers in them now, hurt maybe, or something totally different. You just know that his jaw is suddenly tightened and one hand is on your waist, grabbing you roughly. 

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Says who?”

“I do. Did you fuck that guy?”

“Fuck you, Chan.” 

There was too much tension between you. More than back then in the elevator. His breath hit your face, his brows furrowed. 

“Did you fuck that guy?”

“What is it to you if I did?” You spat back at him. One of his hands was suddenly right there on your neck and your eyes widened at the sudden wave of want shaking your body.

“It’s an easy question, doll. Did you fuck him?”

His grab on your neck was almost too much to handle right now. Your pussy was crying into your panties and your head felt so far away, you feared it wasn’t even on your neck anymore. 

“No.”

You wished someone would walk in. One of the guys you had seen earlier. Soonyoung, for all you cared. Even Joshua would be fine - just anyone to get Chan away from you. All of the arousal from your make-out with Vernon was still fresh and with Chan’s hand on your body, you couldn’t guarantee anything. 

He was so close and he smelled so good. His face was mere inches from yours and if you moved just a tiny bit…

Chan was quicker than you. The thoughts were running around in his head ever since he saw you come out of that room, ever since he saw that random dude behind you. Jealous. That’s what he was. Jealous of some guy you had been in a room with by yourself and jealous of everyone who would come after. It was stupid and twisted, considering his brother was literally in love with you. His grip around your waist got stronger and suddenly his nose was touching yours, both of your mouths opened in a breathy gasp and when he saw the way your eyes fluttered close, there was literally no way around kissing you anymore.

It didn’t start out sweet or slow, no, Chan was full on kissing you like he knew you wanted to be kissed. His tongue was right there, his other hand on your chin, moving your head up so he could dip his tongue easier into your awaiting mouth. You moaned into the kiss, heat between your legs now accompanied by throbs that made you press your thighs together. Chan pressed himself against you, felt every curve of your body and wished he could just take you right here and now. But there were people around, drunk people, people who might not mind you any business, but still people. And so, he grabbed your hand after parting from you and taking you to the bedroom you had just left, the door falling shut behind you, his lips on you again right then. Hands were back on your waist and he groaned when he felt your hands feeling him up, sliding underneath his shirt and down, pressing against his bulge. 

“Wanna fuck you so bad,” you breathed and Chan bit down on your lip, nodding because, fuck, he wanted that too. It’s stupid, really, there is a bed right behind you, but Chan was greedy, Chan maybe even wanted someone to notice, wanted to get caught red handed, his cock in your tight pussy. He wanted everyone to know he got you, not Wonwoo.

Your hands moved to open his belt and you shoved his jeans and briefs down at the same time, have them pool at his ankles, your hungry eyes looking between his face and hard cock that laid against his stomach. Skilfully, you grabbed around the base of his cock and started jerking him off, Chan moaning against your neck as he tugged your dress up and panties down. 

“Your fucking dripping, baby,” he breahed into your ear and you nodded, looking up at him with a pout.

“Fuck my dripping pussy, Channie, need you so bad.”

He didn’t need to hear that again. He grabbed his cock after you dropped it, your head banging against the door behind you, and brought it to your pussy, sinking into you a second later, your one leg wrapped around his slim waist. 

“God, fuck, that’s right, such a wet tight pussy just for me.”

He began to move right away, devouring your lips with his as his hips frantically fucked into you. Your hands held onto his shoulders, eyes closed shut and skin on fire from desire. He fucked into you quick and hard, hitting you right where you needed him to and, fuck, did it feel good. Felt so good that you already felt yourself nearing an orgasm. 

Chan’s breath hit your face again when he parted from you and leaned back, his eyes studying you as he continued to fuck you. You still had your eyes closed, which meant Chan could look at you all he wanted. His cock was twitching wildly at how your face looked, how your mouth was dropped open at how fucked out you looked, at how much you were into this. He licked over his lips, hands grabbing your hips harshly, thrusts becoming sloppier the closer he felt to release.

“Craved your pussy so much, baby, look at how good you take my cock, shit.”

Your eyes fluttered open again, Chan staring at you making your stomach turn and your cunt clench around him, a moan escaping you when he picked up the pace once more, the door literally banging from the movement. There was no way people who passed wouldn’t notice. 

“Ch-Chan!” You cried out, and he smirked, continuing what he was doing.

“What is it, doll? You scared people will know that you’re getting fucked like the filthy whore you are?” He slowed down his thrusts just for a moment, your whimpers music to his ears.

“Pl-please,” you didn’t even know what you were begging for but Chan just chuckled, finally pulling out of you to lead you to the bed, where he told you to get on all fours. You did as told, your pussy aching for his cock to come back and fuck you. You wiggled your hips just when Chan slipped back into you, a harsh slap landing on your ass.

“So impatient, slut. Don’t worry, I’ll make you cum on this cock.”

He went back to fucking you hard and quick, your moans filling the room and making Chan move even quicker. He was so close to emptying his load in your warmth.

“Don’t stop, oh fuck!” Your walls clenched around him multiple times, letting Chan know that he had in fact made you cum on his cock. He kneaded your ass, slapping it as he fucked you through your orgasm, closing in on his own with every passing second.

“So good for me, came so prettily on my cock, my perfect little whore, isn’t that right?” One of his hands now moved, grabbing a fistful of your hair to pull you against his chest, his cock seemingly vibrating inside of you, overstimulation making you cry out.

“Want you to cum in me, Chan, want you to so bad!”

Somehow your words were like a spell, getting Chan to do exactly as you had told him to the next second. Hot spurts of cum filled your spent pussy that was now milking him for all he had.

“Fuck! Yes, take it all, every last drop, that’s right.”

Chan thrusted into you a few more times, sloppy and uncontrollable, his cock finally slipping out of you, accompanied by his own release that now dripped onto Joshua’s bed sheets. He couldn’t stop staring at your pretty pussy filled with his cum. Gosh, he really wanted to take a picture of this. 

You were the first one to come back to her senses. You turned around, seeing your panties and his pants and underwear laying on the floor by the door and you climbed off the bed to grab it all, put your own on and hand Chan his clothes. 

“Well,” you started, clearing your throat as you pulled your dress back down. Chan was back in his underwear and suddenly unable to look at you. What a joke.

“This probably shouldn’t have happened,” you finished then, feeling your own conscience starting to grow extremely guilty. Not to mention that you felt just extremely… yeah, what even? At this point there was nothing to say about you. How long had you been at this party? Thirty minutes? And you had already made out with Vernon, had made poor Vernon cum in his pants and now you had fucked Chan? Chan, who you had sworn to never fuck again because it was obvious you shouldn’t. Maybe Soonyoung’s idea to get out of the house had been a bad one after all. 

“Yeah. It shouldn’t have.” Chan didn’t look at you, he in fact couldn’t bear to do so. Guilt flooded him, making it almost impossible to even leave the room. Wonwoo was out there somewhere, drinking, dancing, not knowing you were here and most definitely not knowing his own little brother had betrayed him. Again. Chan sighed pulling his jeans back up and trying to fight the urge to just stay in here and wait this party out. 

With nothing but static sounds in your ear did you move to open the door, hand already around the knob. 

“If he wasn’t in the picture,” Chan’s voice suddenly cut through the silence and you stopped midway opening the door, “would you think about it?”

Your heart ached at his question and you closed your eyes. You really had a talent for making people fall for you only to disappoint them. 

“I don’t think the answer I have is the one you want.”

Even though he would never admit it, Chan felt his heart break a little at that. He knew it was stupid. Liking you was the exact opposite of what he should’ve done. You were just a girl he slept with once. You were the girl his brother had been talking about all this time, the one he had been hopelessly in love with. 

It wasn’t fair, really. That the cute neighbor turned out to be you. That the girl he wanted to see again so badly after that first fateful meeting in the hallway was the one his brother wanted. In all his years living on this earth, he had never hated Wonwoo. His older brother had always been his favorite person in the entire world. But now? In this exact moment he hated him. 

“Is it because of my brother?” He finally asked and you turned around to look at him.

“No, it’s not. I promise you, he has nothing to do with this.”

Chan moved his head and looked at you, nodding slightly. He would probably feel guilty about feeling relieved in a few hours, but right now he enjoyed the knowledge you wouldn’t go for his brother. 

With one last smile, you finally turned to open the door, Chan right behind you. 

And that was when time seemed to stop for both of you. 

Of course this would happen because how could it not? How could you ever walk out of this room without any problem, without anyone seeing you. It was like ice was somehow replacing the blood in your veins, making you shiver, making you freeze. 

Wonwoo stood there, right in front of the bedroom, just like Chan had earlier. And as if that wasn’t bad enough - Mingyu stood right there next to him. 

You heard Chan’s gasp right when Wonwoo and Mingyu looked at you. Saw your disheveled hair, Chan’s not fully closed belt. The guilt in his eyes, the shock in yours. It took Wonwoo everything in him not to drop his glass at the sight. 

“Tell me this is not what it looks like.”

Where his voice came from, he couldn’t tell. He just heard it, felt it ringing in his ears after. When neither you nor Chan began speaking and only continued to stare at him, he felt his jaw tightening and his body move. Without knowing where he was headed, he ran out of the apartment, leaving you and Chan behind with nothing but the biting feeling of a guilty conscience. Your eyes briefly met Mingyu’s, before you followed Chan, who was now running after his brother.

Cold air was giving you an unwelcome hug when you reached downstairs, Wonwoo standing on the side of the road, seemingly trying to catch a cab.

“Hyung, wait!” Chan called out for him and Wonwoo let his arm drop down - there wasn’t a cab around anyways. God, why didn’t he take his own car? Why did he have to get here with Mingyu and why did he plan on crashing here? Why had he even decided to come here in the first place?

When Chan finally reached him, Wonwoo slowly turned around. As much as you wanted to deny it - seeing Wonwoo this way made your heart clench painfully. Coming to a halt behind Chan, you suddenly felt like maybe you shouldn’t have followed them.

“Hyung,” Chan started again, looking at his brother with pleading eyes, “I’m sorry, I- I know what this must look like to you.”

“It looks like you slept with the girl I’ve been telling you about for weeks, yeah.”

Chan swallowed. 

“He didn’t know, Wonwoo. Neither did I, when we slept together - we didn’t know.”

“But you knew today, didn’t you?”

Chan and you shared a quick glance and Wonwoo scoffed, looking away for a second, before he pushed his hands into the pockets of his jacket and stared back at you.

“Mingyu told me, actually. That you two- that this happened. And I was planning on letting it slide because as you said, you didn’t know. But tonight? You knew and you still-,” Wonwoo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

“You know, I’m not even mad at you, Y/N. Because I don’t expect anything else from you. You take and take and take and you never ever think about the consequences of your actions. You simply don’t give a fuck about anyone’s feelings and some fucked up part of me admires you for it. How easy it must be to go through life not caring about anyone but yourself.”

Any other day his words might have made you feel a different way. Maybe you would have felt offended, angry even. But right now? You knew he was right, felt it in your bones that his words couldn’t be any more true. Averting your gaze, you looked at your feet, not allowing yourself to cry.

“You, though,” he was talking to Chan now and even though something inside you itched to step in, you didn’t, “you knew who she is, what she means to me. And you still did this?”

“Hyung, I’m sorry, I truly am, I don’t know what to tell you.” Chan sounded just as broken as you felt and it took everything in you to not put a hand on his shoulder to offer some comfort. 

“That makes two of us, Channie. I also don’t know what to tell you.”

Wonwoo finally turned around to walk off and when he walked around the next corner, Chan finally moved again, pulling both hands through his hair, before turning around and spotting none other than Mingyu stepping outside. Anger rushed through Chan, but you stopped him before he could do anything.

“Let me talk to him, Chan,” you said quietly and while Chan looked like he didn’t want to listen to you, he ended up nodding and storming off, back inside. 

Once he was gone, you took a few steps closer to Mingyu who looked at you with a blank face. He didn’t feel bad about telling Wonwoo, you could tell. You could also tell that he was mad at you, if because of the ghosting or the fact he had caught you with Chan, you didn’t know. Sighing, you shrugged slightly and looked up at him.

“When did you tell him?”

“Around three days after you suddenly disappeared.”

“You’re angry at me.”

“You think?”

Mingyu had never looked at you like this before. Like he was actually mad, like there was something seriously wrong. 

“I’m sorry for not texting back, for not calling you back, Mingyu, I truly am. Something happened and I just closed off. Not just you, I- I just turned my phone off and didn’t think.”

“I was worried about you.” He took a step closer. You felt his warmth and closed your eyes, even let him put his hand on your cheek. That was until you remembered Wonwoo’s face, the way he had looked at Chan. And that’s when you realized something.

“You told Wonwoo about Chan,” you started, your eyes back open and looking at him, “but you didn’t tell him about you.” 

Mingyu’s jaw twitched, his hand slowly falling from your face again. He didn’t have to confirm it with words for you to know your assumption is correct. 

“How can you do this to him?” Now, you felt the tears behind your eyes that you had held back the entire day. Mingyu licked over his drying lips and let out a bitter laugh.

“Why is it always him you’re worried about? Why does it matter that he liked you first, why do my feelings not matter to you, Y/N? This isn’t fair.”

“No one ever said this is fair, Mingyu. This whole situation is fucked up, this has nothing to do with fairness. If I was smart, I’d just stop right here. I’d leave you alone, I’d never speak to any of those guys upstairs again. But I can’t because I’m selfish, because I don’t want to leave you alone, I don’t want to never speak to them again. I’m selfish because somehow I still can’t let go of things I know shouldn’t be mine.”

“I am yours, Y/N, I have been yours since the day you stepped foot into the office, the first time you kissed me. How can I prove to you that I don’t care about any of this?”

Both of his hands were on your cheeks now and his thumbs wiped away the tears that began to fall. 

“Mingyu, you know it’s wrong, you know it’s not fair. Not to you or Wonwoo or anyone else. I can’t just accept you as mine when it’s so clear Wonwoo will never forgive you, not after Chan.”

“I don’t care. I love you, I want to be with you.”

“You don’t mean that. You shouldn’t mean that.”

Even though it took everything in you, you let your hands wrap around his wrists, lifting his hands from your face.

“Y/N…,” he whispers, but you shake your head, another set of tears dripping down your cheeks.

“We can’t do this anymore. I appreciate you wanting to wait, but even if I were to finish this stupid challenge, I don’t think you and I should be together.”

Mingyu heard your words and he understood them. Every single one of them reached his brain and a part of him even agreed with them. But looking at you, seeing the face he had been seeing in his dreams for the past months, the one he had missed so much when you had left him the first time - that part fell extremely small. The bigger part wanted to reach for you, tell you how wrong you were. No one would be as good for you as him, no one understood you the way he did. Yes, Wonwoo was his friend, maybe even his best friend, but you… you were his. Everything about you was made for him and it didn’t make any sense for you to not see that. He knew you did, he knew you felt the same. But, apparently, your conscience won over your heart this time.

“Don’t do this,” he heard himself say and you pressed your lips together, shaking your head again.

“Mingyu, it’s for the best. I am not- I am not good. Something inside me is rotten, I feel like… I feel like I’ve lost who I am in the past few months. I did things because I was being selfish and I need to stop. I already lost my best friend, I can’t lose myself too.”

You let go of his wrists now, looking up at him with a sad smile. You hoped he knew that if you had met under different circumstances you would love to be with him. 

When you left, Mingyu stayed back, staring at the spot you had just stood in. And, somehow, he didn’t believe that this was the end of you two just yet.

-

You sat down on the bench of one of the bus stations near Mingyu’s apartment complex, about to get your phone out to text Soonyoung - when you realized that he still had it. Groaning, you let your head fall back against the glass behind you. Wonderful. Just great, really. He would probably drop it off tomorrow once he realized you weren’t at the party anymore. Maybe it was better this way - not having your phone close to get any ideas about texting Mingyu. Or Seungcheol. Another groan left you. Seungcheol. The fact he hadn’t sent a whole SWAT team into your apartment was probably thanks to Jiwoo. Maybe he didn’t want to see you again after talking to his sister. And maybe that was right. If you couldn’t see Mingyu anymore, you probably shouldn’t see Cheol anymore too. 

“Y/N?” A voice made you open your eyes, surprise visible in your face when you saw Vernon parked in front of the bus station, passenger seat window down as he looked at you with worry.

“Vernon? You’re already leaving?” 

“Yeah, I, uh, thought that maybe this was enough socializing for the next couple of weeks.”

The way he awkwardly smiled made you laugh. Nodding, you let your eyes roam over his car. It’s nice - not as nice as the car he drives for Cheol, but definitely on the more expensive side. Vernon clears his throat.

“Do you need a ride?”

It probably took a lot of courage for him to ask you this. Smiling, you thanked him, getting up from the bench and walking over to his car, opening the door and plopping down onto the passenger seat.

“Guess you won’t need the address,” you joked and he blushed, still with a small smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah. I think I got that covered.”

You drove in comfortable silence. The city was still alive since it wasn’t that late and you watched strangers laugh on the street, drink in some of the booths standing around town. A part of you wished to be as carefree as them, but you figured that this would take a while for you to gain back. Not caring and going out, making friends without thinking about how you could possibly get them into your bed. It was crazy, really, how much this challenge had affected your life, how now, three months after the idea had left Jiwoo’s lips, she wasn’t even your friend anymore. 

“Can I ask you something?” Vernon spoke into the silence and you turned to look at him, nodding.

“Sure.”

“Okay so, I know that Mr. Choi kind of told me to, uh, sleep with you and… I also know that you are now aware of me… never having been with someone like that,” he began and you frowned slightly, unsure what he was going to say next, “if I am honest with you, Y/N, ever since that time in Mr. Choi’s office, I… couldn’t stop thinking about you. Not… not in a romantic sense, more like, as in-,” he scratched his head, trying hard to find the right words for what he wanted to say, “as in I think I actually need you to take my virginity, or else I’ll probably never be able to get this out of my head.”

Oh. You raised your eyebrows, blinking at Vernon a few times, the words still registering in your brain. Then, when it finally clicked, you broke out into an honest laugh, catching Vernon off guard.

“I’m- I’m serious!” He whined and you nodded, waving with your hand as if to signal you weren’t really laughing at him.

“No- No, I know. And I am flattered, but-,” you let yourself look at him again and when you spotted the earnest look on his face, your laugh faltered, making space for a smile that somehow even spread to your heart.

“I know it’s a weird request. But I’m just a guy Y/N. And you, quite literally, have been taking over my mind. I just- I would be incredibly happy if you would… do that. And of course I understand if you’re not into it, but I thought I could at least ask and-,”

“Okay,” you interrupted him, Vernon now being the one to blink at you a few times when he stopped at a red light.

“Okay?” He repeated and you nodded.

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll do it. We, you and I, can do it. Not tonight though, I’ve had, uh, quite the evening and would just like to fall into bed. By myself.”

Vernon felt like he had just seen the gates of heaven and he wasn’t even naked in bed with you yet. Quickly, he nodded, continuing the drive when the light turned green, a wide smile on his lips as he realized you had really just said yes to his insane request.

“Sure! I get that, I, uh, we can definitely do it another day, I’m fine with that. You can call me, I- you have my number, right?”

-

Soonyoung ended up bringing your phone over the next day, not even staying for a chat and not even able to look you in the eyes. Your jaw hurt from how hard you were biting down, knowing exactly why he was behaving this way. Thanking him and slapping the door closed, you sighed and fell back onto your couch, plugging your phone into the charger and waiting for it to turn on. 

Going through your messages was a true pain. Mingyu wondering where you were (before the party, obviously), asking if he had done something wrong, telling you he was gonna come over. You closed your eyes, holding back the stupid tears that wanted to slip out again. You should really get a fucking grip. Mingyu had been part of the challenge, nothing more! He should have never become more than that, should have never become someone you actually cared about as much as you did now. 

You deleted his chat, not even opening the messages. Then, you moved on to Seungcheol. Your next big problem. While he did text you several times, he did seem to understand you needed your time and space and he was willing to give it to you. 

But I just need you to understand that I am serious about this, about you. I want to be with you.

Seungcheol’s words suddenly barged into your mind, reminding you of the fact that he did in fact care about you, that he wanted you, that he didn’t care about anything else. Sighing, you closed the messenger app and instead opened your contacts, choosing his and pressing the call button. 

He picked up after the second ring.

“Y/N,” the way he said your name soothed you right then and there. 

“Cheol…,” you breathed out, feeling another set of tears wanting to break through.

“Are you okay?” He asked and you could hear him moving, making you wonder about whether he was at home or in the office on this Sunday morning. 

“Not really, if I’m gonna be honest,” you replied, turning over so you laid on your back now, “but I will get there. Eventually.”

You could imagine him nodding, could imagine the worried frown on his face.

“I am so sorry about my sister,” he then said and you shrugged, smiling sadly to yourself.

“It’s not your fault. She had every right to be mad at me.”

“No, she didn’t. And I told her that. I talked to her, tried to make her see that she is completely overreacting. Yes, I am her brother and, yes, we should have just told her, but she is making this a bigger deal than it ever had to be.”

“Maybe. But as you said, we should have told her. I should have told her. Instead I told her a lie about a businessman I met at the hotel, instead I kept on lying to her for weeks, I avoided her, scared to accidentally let it slip. Yeah, what she said to me was… harsh and it did hurt me. But I deserved it, Cheol.”

You heard him sigh on the other line.

“Baby, you didn’t deserve it. We all make mistakes, we are humans. She acted like you killed someone.”

The usage of the pet-name made your stomach flutter. Chuckling lightly, sadness still audible, you let your hand rest on your forehead.

“I can’t really change the situation now. She didn’t contact me at all while I had my phone off. We had fights before, but never like this.”

“Just give her time. She’ll come around.”

Around to what? You didn’t dare ask the question. 

“Yeah, maybe,” you just said and swallowed hard, licking over your lips after.

“If you need anything, call me, okay? I’m here for you,” he paused, “and Jeonghan is back. So, if you want to finish what you started - you can.”

Finish what you started. At this point you weren’t even sure you wanted that. 

“I’ll call you. Bye, Cheol.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

-

Vernon picked you up in the car he drove for Cheol a day later. 

You kept telling yourself this wasn’t for your challenge, but for Vernon. He had asked this of you. He wanted you to do this for him. It didn’t matter that you could beat the challenge because the sole reason for it wasn’t your friend anymore. Still, even with all of this in the back of your mind, your pride remained right there, wanting you to do this for yourself, prove to yourself that you could finish this even when wounded and on the floor with nothing left. 

So, when Vernon parked the car on a high spot with a beautiful view of the city and the two of you were making out on the spacious backseat - you allowed yourself to count this towards the challenge you so desperately wanted to leave behind you.

Vernon’s hands were careful, shy even, placed on your hips as his mouth discovered yours, his tongue slowly moving against your own. You wanted to let him find his pace but when he didn’t try to make a move fifteen minutes in, you decided to take the lead. Quickly, you moved onto his lap, straddling him like back at the party, your hands cupping his face as you kissed him deeper this time, tongue licking sensually against his and he whimpered underneath you - absolute music to your ears. 

“Touch me, I know you want to,” you whispered into his ear then and he swallowed hard before letting his hands slip to your back and down, fingers almost clawing into your ass, your hips beginning to grind against him.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his cock already rock hard in his pants. You chuckled, kissing his neck and letting your finger glide under his shirt, pulling it over his head skilfully, his hands landing right back on your ass once he was shirtless in front of you. You licked over your lips and moved to kiss down his neck, tongue flicking against his skin and finally his nipple, the moan coming out of Vernon’s mouth deliciously ringing in your ears. He dared to move your shirt up as well, helping you get rid of it and he immediately groped your breasts, his eyes glued to them still covered by pretty dark red lace. You smiled smugly, fingers caressing his abs and chest, thumb and index softly pinching his nipple and making him throw his head back.

“Feels good,” he mumbled and you giggled, doing it again. The way he pushed his hips up, searching for friction had your pussy dripping into your panties. You happily continued, lips back to kissing his neck and chin, moving up to his mouth where he gladly welcomed you with his tongue searching for yours. God, he was eager and you loved it. 

“Keep telling me what feels good, Nonie, wanna make you feel so so good.” Your voice was dripping in honey and Vernon nodded rapidly, reaching for your face to kiss you again and you let your hands wander down to open his jeans, hoping the incident at the party wouldn’t repeat itself. Vernon was concentrating on your lips on his, on the way your skin was warm under his fingertips, on how good it felt to kiss you and to have you on top of him. When you touched him over his boxer-briefs, he did moan into the kiss, but he didn’t fear coming undone like last time - he had jerked off twice this morning to prevent that from happening. 

“So hard for me already, bet you have such a pretty dick, baby.”

He twitched under your hand now, his long eyelashes fluttering as he watched you - how you sat up, biting down on your red bottom lip, your fingers pushing down his pants and underwear so his cock could spring free. 

“I knew it, so pretty, Nonie.”

Your hand around his cock did not make him cum, but it did make a good load of pre-cum leak out of him, his face red as he watched your thumb carefully collecting all of it, smearing it over his shaft and using it as lube for your hand that now grabbed around him. Vernon couldn’t help the pathetic little cries when you began jerking him off.

“Y-yeah, j-just like that.” His eyes rolled back and you watched him in awe, taking in every single one of his pretty sounds and the way his hips bucked up into your fist.

“Be a good boy and stay still for me, yeah, baby?” You grinned to yourself, seeing how he struggled while nodding, his teeth sinking into his lip, his eyes squeezed shut. He was incredibly pretty at that moment. 

Your hand moved quicker, getting him as hard as you could without making him cum. 

“F-feels really good,” Vernon sighed, his hands grabbing onto the seat underneath him, nails dragging into the leather. You watched him carefully and finally dropped his cock from your hand to rid yourself of pants and underwear. Vernon’s eyes flew open and he held his breath watching as you shifted, pants and panties slipping down your legs. 

“I would love to suck you off, baby, but I fear you’ll come right away and I really, really want your cum in my pussy.”

The whimper leaving Vernon now made you grab his cock and lead it to your dripping pussy. 

“F-fuck, I- I- oh my god,” Vernon’s hands found place on your back, eyes wide as he stared down at your pussy sinking down on his length, his whole brain working on not cumming the second his tip breached you. His head was spinning, his breath hitched once he allowed himself to breathe again and when you were fully sunken down, he felt his dick twitch wildly inside of you.

“Holy fucking shit.” His nails dug into your skin and you let your pussy get used to his size, arms wrapping around his neck, lips back to kissing him softly.

“Feel good?” You asked and he nodded, not able to speak, too busy concentrating on not shooting his load right then and there. 

What he did not expect was the feeling of you moving. How your walls felt around his virgin cock that was only used to his own hand. How tight you were, how warm, how perfect. There was no stopping the moans, the cries, the whimpers as you began riding his cock, your lips traveling from his neck to his lips, from his lips to his ears, sucking on his earlobe and making him push you harder against his chest.

“M-Mommy, f-feel so good.” The word slipped out and it rang in your ears, your pussy clenching around him, a smirk on your lips inevitable when you parted from him only to take a look at his face. 

He was lost in pleasure, but the fact he had said that was somehow displayed on his face as well. Your hands moved to your own back, unclasping your bra and letting it fall off your frame. Vernon twitched inside you once more.

“Such a good boy for Mommy, aren’t you, baby?” You brought his hands from your back to your front, placing them right there on your tits.

“I know you want Mommy’s tits in your hands and in your mouth, isn’t that right?” Vernon saw stars when your hips moved again and your tits almost slipped through his hands. Quickly, he nodded, beginning to grope at them harder, his mouth open as he watched how they looked in his hands, how soft they were, how good they felt. And when you pushed his head down, his face right there between your perfect tits, he almost couldn’t believe he hadn’t cum yet. 

With his tongue shooting out and lapping at you, you began riding his cock quicker, letting yourself lose, moans coming out of your throat that made the poor man feel like he was dying. He brought his lips to your nipple, sucking it into his mouth as he heard angel’s sing in his ears, tongue twirling around the hard bud. 

“Just like that, baby. Your cock feels so good in Mommy, gonna make me cum.” 

Vernon knew it wasn’t going to be long until he exploded, his spit running down your tits as he kissed and sucked on your skin, moving up to your neck and kissing your mouth again, hands still busy on your breasts. 

“Are you gonna cum for Mommy, Nonie? Are you gonna fill Mommy’s pussy with your cum?”

“Y-yes, gonna fill M-mommy up, pump her full, o-oh,” Vernon had never ever expected to last as long as he did. 

“That’s right, baby. Pump Mommy full, come on. Know you want to.”

The second the words had left your mouth, Vernon couldn’t help it anymore. He cried out, calling for you over and over as his cock twitched and twitched, hot cum filling your pussy, his hips fucking into you with absolute no control. You felt your own climax hit you just then with the way he kept on thrusting upwards, hitting you right there where you needed him. 

“Fuck!” You cried out, pussy tightening around his cock and he whimpered, overstimulation hitting him as you kept fucking yourself on his cock, the sound of your cum stuffed pussy riding his cock so lewd it literally caused his cock to grow in size again, all of the blood in Vernon’s body down there, all of his senses heightened but his brain completely shut off.

“Sh-shit, n-ngh, Mommy, please!” His cry made you look at him, the fucked out face having you clench around him again. He wasn’t done with you yet. Instead of letting his cock die down, he kept on fucking into you, his head now thrown back as he cried with every thrust, his hips showing you no mercy as he chased his pleasure. There was nothing you could do but enjoy, your mouth hanging open as you let him have his way with you, your hands back on his shoulders.

“You fuck Mommy so good, baby, come on, I know you wanna give me more, want all of it, Nonie, all of your delicious cum in my pussy, gonna make me so fucking proud.” 

His overstimulated but incredibly hard cock obeyed immediately. A second orgasm made Vernon’s body shake, more cum filling you as he cried, head falling forward onto your shoulder as exhaustion hit him next. He was still twitching wildly and you allowed yourself to fuck down on him until you yourself reached a second high, his whimpers telling you to keep going.

“W-wanna make Mommy cum,” he cried and you grabbed his face, seeing actual tear stains on it, kissed him softly.

“Made Mommy cum two times, baby, I am so proud of you, did so well for Mommy.”

A smile spread on Vernon’s lips, before his head dropped again, his chest heaving with great effort. 

As a good virginity-taker should, you held Vernon against your chest for a while after he had slipped out of you, his cock extremely sensitive. You had cleaned him and yourself up and helped him back into his boxer-briefs, finally letting him rest against your frame, as he came down from his high. 

“I’m sorry if this was a bit much,” he mumbled after a while and you chuckled, fingers caressing through his hair.

“It was all fine, don’t even worry about it, alright?” You kissed the top of his head and Vernon thanked you, squeezing your hand before lifting his head. You allowed him to kiss you when he wanted to and you agreed to grabbing some McDonald’s before parting ways. 

-

Having made the decision to end this challenge once and for all, you had called Seungcheol the day after your “date” with Vernon to tell him you were willing to meet that business partner of his. Setting a time and place (two days from then at Seungcheol’s company), you were content with finally finishing what you had started. Sure, a part of you felt devastated about the fact Jiwoo wouldn’t be there to share this with you. Maybe even a really big part. You decided to forget about this for the time being - after all there was still a chance Seungcheol was right and she would forgive you. 

When you arrived at the company that day, you mentally prepared yourself to, one, see Seungcheol and, two, see this stranger you’re supposed to let into your bed. You didn’t even know why you hadn’t asked Seungcheol for a picture or even any more information about Jeonghan, but then again you had been worried about a lot of other things. One that apparently had not been on your mind, was Seokmin. 

Seokmin who was talking to one of the women at the front desk and who, once he spotted you, seemed to stop mid sentence. You felt your cheeks heat up and your heart beating faster, remembering the last time you had seen him. Seungcheol had gotten you out of that situation rather quickly and a part of you had been worried that Seokmin would have to deal with repercussions - but since he was still here, you figured there hadn’t been any. 

“You’re here.” He said when you reached him, a small smile playing on his lips. You nodded and he excused himself to the woman, leading you through the gates with his ID card and to the familiar elevators.

“Meeting Mr. Yoon today, I heard.”

Yoon. Yoon Jeonghan? You frowned. What a strange coincidence. 

“Yes. What’s he like?”

“Well, he’s… something, for sure. Good looking, intelligent. Very well traveled, too.” 

The elevator pinged and the two of you walked inside, your hands tightly clasped around your purse.

“Right. And… is he nice?”

You looked over at Seokmin, who seemed like he really had to think about that question. 

“Uhm, well, I guess, “nice” wouldn’t be the first thing that comes to mind when I think of Mr. Yoon, but he is… he can be nice. If it benefits him.” Seokmin slowly turned his head, his eyes meeting yours.

“And I would assume in this situation, it would definitely benefit him.”

Smooth. Another heatwave met your cheeks and you averted your gaze, clearing your throat just in time for the elevator to come to a stop and open its doors. 

Seokmin let you out first, a quiet “thank you” leaving your lips as you stepped out, your head turning to face the way you knew Seungcheol’s office was - only to be met by something, or more someone you most certainly had not expected to see.

Jiwoo was standing there, right by the entrance to Seungcheol’s office space, talking to a man who’s face you couldn’t see.

“Ah, Mr. Yoon is already here.” Seokmin’s voice said next to you and you blinked, looking from him to Jiwoo and finally to who you presumed was Mr. Yoon. Yoon Jeonghan.

You stopped in your step, feet suddenly glued to the floor. Yoon Jeonghan had moved his head. His face was right there in your field of view. And Jiwoo’s hand was on his arm as she laughed about something he said. 

“Y/N?” Seokmin was visibly confused, but you couldn’t even hear him. There was only the sound of your own blood rushing in your ears, only the faint memory of a voice that belonged to the man standing right there.

I didn’t think it would be a big deal. Aren’t best friends supposed to share things?

You were taken back to the time Jiwoo and you had your first real big fight, to the way neither of you understood that it wasn’t any of you who was the problem but him. Him, who had lied to both of you, who had known you were best friends, who had taken advantage of both of your naivety. 

And now he stood here? In this very office building, being Jiwoo’s brother’s business partner? Your world was spinning and you only found your senses again when Seokmin’s hand landed on your shoulder and his worry was even more visible on his face.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” He asked and you looked at him, really looked at him, shaking your head as an answer. You didn’t say anything, instead you continued walking, your steps echoing against the walls of the space and finally Jiwoo and Jeonghan noticed you. 

While Jiwoo’s eyes widened in shock, Jeonghan remained oddly calm. Instead of surprise that it was you, there is a smug smile displayed on his lips as his eyes lingered on your body.

“As it turns out,” he began, “we do get a chance for that night we never had after all, Y/N.”

Your hands turned into fists - fists you were ready to throw at him. But before you could do that, you were interrupted by Jiwoo.

“Are you joking?” She gasped, looking between Jeonghan and you, “Is it not enough for you to drag my brother into this, now you’re going after my ex as well?!”

If the world wasn’t spinning anyways, you would have been sure it had started doing so right then. There it was again - the sound of your blood rushing in your ears.

“Your ex?” You croaked out, shaking your head in absolute confusion.

“First of all, I didn’t know he was the Jeonghan Cheol was talking about. And second of all, as far as i am concerned he is not your actual ex, you fucked like what, once? And then you broke it off right?”

You knew the answer even before asking the question. The Jiwoo standing in front of you, with her face pale and her jaw tightened - she was someone different from the Jiwoo you knew, but perhaps the realest version of her you had ever gotten.

“Well- well, yes! But-,”

“You’re lying,” you now interrupted her.

“I am not!”

“Yes, she is,” Jeonghan now chimed in, a smile on his lips you could only describe as mischievous. As if he knew he was stirring the pot.

“Oppa!” Jiwoo hissed and you felt your stomach drop right down to your feet.

“She wanted to break it off, she really did. But I guess she just couldn’t resist me. You will find out soon enough what that means, sweetheart.” His phone started ringing just then, a wink in your direction serving as his goodbye right before he began walking towards the other side of the floor to his own office space. 

You were shaking. Your whole body was in something like a trance. Jiwoo could only stare at the spot Jeonghan had just stood, blood rushing back into her face.

“You’re telling me that, even after you found out he had lied to both of us, you went and slept with him again? You even went as far as to date him behind my back?”

“So what! You fucked my brother behind my back that is far worse than this!” She screamed back at you, her eyes wild and her face flushed. You couldn’t help but let out a humorless laugh.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, you are horrible, you are fucking horrible, Choi Jiwoo.”

And even with her screaming behind you, you didn’t look back when you stepped into the elevator with its open doors seeming to welcome you like a warm hug from a friend you so desperately needed. 

header by @wongyuseokie

[bruisedboys]

MAL’S 6K HOLIDAY PARTY !

this celebration is now closed. all finished blurbs can be found here

YOU ARE INVITED! to celebrate hitting 6k followers, and seeing as the holiday season is upon us, I’ll be hosting a super cool and awesome holiday celebration! there will be blurbs, moodboards, games and more. please come and join the fun (there will be lots of hot men there I promise) !! the celebration will run from dec 19th to jan 1st. below you can find the party agenda ♡

( please read the rules at the bottom of this post before sending in a request )

☆ THE GUESTLIST

( pick and choose your characters from the list below! )

───── james potter, remus lupin, sirius black

───── finnick odair, peeta mellark

───── miguel o’hara, tasm!peter parker, peter quill

───── bruce wayne (the batman)

───── bradley bradshaw, jake seresin

───── steve harrington, eddie munson

☆ THE MENU

( combine an item from the menu with a character on the list above! )

───── gingerbread house . . . send in a character from the guestlist + a dialogue prompt from this list or this list and I’ll write you a blurb!

───── candy cane . . . send in a character from the guestlist + an action prompt from this list or this list and I’ll write you a blurb!

───── hot chocolate . . . send in a character from the guestlist + an au + a prompt from one of the lists linked above, and I’ll write you a blurb! (eg. rockstar!remus, firefighter!james)

───── marshmallow . . . send in a character from the guestlist + an aesthetic, concept, trope, or colour and I’ll make a moodboard!

☆ MORE FESTIVITIES

───── ribbon. games! kiss marry kill, cym, would you rather, etc. (you can send in as many of these asks as you like!)

───── gift wrap. mutuals only! send this ask and I’ll make a moodboard to match your vibe/your blog ♡

☆ A FEW HOUSE RULES

please send no more than two requests per item on the menu. I don’t want to much of a buildup in my inbox otherwise I’ll get overwhelmed!

be considerate of my time and my efforts! although I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to fill out every request, I promise I’ll try my best! even if I don’t answer yours, please know I appreciate every request I get

no smut requests please! this is a sfw only blog, any nsfw asks will be deleted

✉️ a message from the host …

hello my angels! 6k!!!!!!! I am going to cry. thank you so so much for all the love and support, 6k feels huge! I’m really grateful I get to have my own little corner on tumblr to talk about what I like (aka silly fictional men I’m hyperfixating on) !! I’m grateful to every single one of you, and thank you especially for sticking with me even when I’m stuck in my (seemingly never ending) creative ruts, it means the world. also!! happy holidays!!! and merry christmas to everyone who celebrates. this is my little gift from me to you. have fun! x

♡ mutual tags!

@darling-im-wonderstruck @moonstruckme @ddejavvu @ghostlyfleur @venuslore @inkdrinkerworld @taintedcigs @bcyhoods @prongsio @starryeyedstories @zstrn @headkiss @thyme-in-a-bubble @earthcowgirl @sp1rit-realm @fxllfaiiry @wolvisms @spiderfunkz @rocklnds @oncasette @fitzells @louvrr @bradshawed @iovesia @amourrs @cosmal @vampieteeth @ouchvns @girlcanines

back to nav

[lewmagoo]

christmas is my absolute favorite time of year, and i thought it would be fun to host a writing celebration to get into the festive spirit! 🎄

RULES:

use the tag #a lew magoo christmas

must be 18+ to join

choose from one of the songs below and use it as inspiration to write a one shot about one of lew's characters (listed below)

it doesn't just have to be writing; moodboards are also more than welcome!

send me an ask with your song and character choice; limit to one song per writer; if two people request the same song, i will permit it as long as you are writing about different characters. no more than two fics per song

tag or message me when you post your submission so i can read and reblog it!

please have your submissions posted on or before december 24th

if you do not celebrate christmas but would still like to participate, winter themed submissions are also permitted

CHARACTERS YOU MAY CHOOSE FROM:

bob floyd

rhett abbott

miles miller

calvin evans

harrison knott

SONGS:

a marshmallow world - dean martin (harrison | @seresinsbrat ; read it here!)

step into christmas - elton john (bob | @attapullman ; read it here!)

sleigh ride - harry connick jr (rhett | @delopsia ; read it here!)

all i want for christmas is you - vince vance and the valiants (rhett | @floydsmuse ; read it here!)

what christmas means to me - stevie wonder (bob | @bradshawsbaby ; read it here!)

believe - josh groban (miles | @auroralightsthesky ; read it here!)

merry christmas darling - the carpenters (rhett | @whisperofsong ; read it here!)

christmas (baby please come home) - darlene love (rhett | @callsignspark ; read it here!)

please come home for christmas - eagles (rhett | @mikpieboo) (bob | @nerdgirljen ; read it here!)

let it snow! - dean martin (rhett | @bobfloydsbabe ; read it here!) (bob | @ryebecca ; see the moodboard here!)

white christmas - bing crosby (bob | @dulcewrites ; read it here!) (rhett | @rhettabbotts)

it's christmas time for everyone (but me) - buck owens (rhett | @sebsxphia ; see the moodboard here!)

like it's christmas - the jonas brothers (bob | @roostersgirlfrxend)

winter wonderland - bing crosby (rhett | @luminousnotmatter)

blue christmas - dean martin (bob | @damrlova)

last christmas - wham! (rhett | @callsign-magnolia) (bob | @sunlightmurdock)

please reblog this for anyone who might be interested! merry christmas to all, i can't wait to see what you come up with!

[lovelytsunoda]

the christmas collection 2023!

i hope everyone enjoyed the cozy collection this year! i had a lot of fun coming up with ideas and writing the fics out, as well as participating in kinktober for a few days. it was also nice to write for some underrated drivers that i adore, including those who are in indycar.

i plan to bring all of that energy right over to my new winter collection, with stories based in holiday cheer going from november and right up until new years.

PROPER FICS

santa stole my girlfriend // callum ilott

his childhood best friend is back home for the holidays. they've always been close, and so many people have assumed they were a couple. but they're not. they were only ever just friends. so why does callum hate her new boyfriend so much?

sleigh ride // lance stroll

lance doesn't celebrate christmas, it's just not his thing. also, he's jewish, so there's that. but his girlfriend loves christmas, and he wants to find a way to make it special. (read: proposal)

the great christmas light fight - george russell

there's something about the male ego. y/n russell definitely did not expect her happy newlywed christmas to turn into a christmas light war between her husband and their neighbour. turns out, the neighbour's wife isn't too happy about this arrangement either. (loosely inspired by matthew broderick and danny devito's 'deck the halls')

silent night - alex albon

alex has a fun festive surprise in store for the whole family. that is, if he doesn’t wake the kids in the process. he’s a man on a mission: cookies to eat, milk to drink, stockings to stuff and snowy footprints to leave on the family room floor.

vermont // daniel ricciardo

You hate heights, but your friend convinced you to go skiing for the first time and now the ski lift is broken and you’re kind of freaking out, so it’s my job to comfort you

god knows i’ve tried // yuki tsunoda

"and if i get sick because i sacrificed my jacket for you, i'd hope you take care of me." (lawson!reader, jacket-sharing and mutual pining!, reader writes cozy mystery novels)

naughty list - oscar piastri

. “Let’s be naughty together and save Santa the trip.”

INSTAGRAM AUS

castle on the hill // lando norris

it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas // oscar piastri

merry and bride // charles leclerc

my sloppy new years kiss // liam lawson (piastri!reader!)

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck @thatsdemko @lorarri @cartierre @love4lando @silverstonesainz @twinkodium

[elvisabutler]

come and trim my christmas tree

summary: it's christmas time at graceland and mrs. claus deserves a reward in front of the fireplace after being such a gracious hostess while santa was busy. fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: m pairing: elvis presley ( big daddy variation ) x female reader word count: 1739 warnings: elvis as santa. reader as mrs. claus. pregnant sex. talk about elvis's health. basically the reader kind of taking the place of ginger alden if you're curious the time frame my mind went to. fingering. p in v sex ( unprotected ). public ish sex ( they're at home, but there is a possibility of someone catching them ). sex in front of a fireplace. author’s note: merry christmas to those who celebrate and happy holidays to those who don't and happy sunday to those who neither of those apply to. also happy hanukkah. anyway! so. this was originally supposed to be a tame piece but then some people ( @aconflagrationofmyown, @butlersxbirdy, and @ab4eva, cough cough ) were like tame elvis, that's silly, write him railing the reader. so. i did. i am however still finishing up the tame piece that should be up soon-ish, possibly tomorrow morning that has the same beginning as this only to be far more family friendly. so thankful to anyone who reads this and enjoys! you know the drill, imagine austin or real elvis, i'm not picky because i know who i imagined. also if you want a tag for my later fics, or any of my fics in general just give me a heads up, i'm actually gonna try and start using one.

Christmastime at Graceland is always a bit of a packed house and one that is a- in your own opinion, bit of organized chaos. Between Priscilla bringing Lisa Marie, between every member of the Memphis Mafia- former and current- bringing their basic families and Elvis's own family it was a bit much to handle. Not for the first time you are so deliriously thankful for your fiance still having a relatively cordial at least nowadays relationship with Priscilla. You're pretty sure you would have been lost for the first two Christmases you had hosted and even for this one had you not had her to fall back on.

You're able to handle it though, flitting through rooms like a hummingbird, the swell of your stomach rounding out the red dress lined with white fur causing you to bump once or twice into the children running around and twice into Santa himself, causing him to run his hand across it, murmuring apologies to you and to your little one who gives him an answering kick that has him grinning even more than he already was under his fake beard. Your pregnancy, while giving you more energy than you thought was possible, sometimes also drains you more than you'd like during social engagements. Elvis warns all the adults ahead of time, tells them that things might be cut short if you're looking like you need to relax. You manage to make it a respectable three hours, even if by the end you find yourself sitting on one of the couches, rubbing at your belly enough that despite you moving to stand up shakily in your heels he's showing everyone out in record time.

Lisa and Priscilla are sound asleep upstairs as you find yourself curled up under a blanket on the rug in front of the fireplace with Elvis behind you supporting your back. One of his hands is rubbing small circles against your skin, watching as your child occasionally reacts with a kick that has him huffing a laugh against your neck and has you rolling your eyes. This is all you've really wanted today, for honestly the entire week as preparation for this soiree truly went into overdrive. Elvis might be taking a break from touring and from everything else to focus on his health a little and to focus on you and the child growing in you but he's a bit of a workhorse who doesn't know proper sleeping hours even on his best behavior. You're used to it and it makes times like this, makes these simple moments special. 

The thing about the two of you not having much time for each other this week is now that you do, Elvis can't help the way he had asked if you could keep his cock warm. "Don't gotta do anythin', just wanna feel ya 'round me like a vice grip." He had said, shifting a little as he did. He was soft, but it didn't matter, you had his cock in you like this before and for right now it’s less about having sex and more about being near each other, being close in a way that you haven’t been able to enjoy lately. 

The two of you would normally be talking to each other, normally just enjoying each other’s company but there’s something to be said about how blissful the silence feels after the chaos of the day. Elvis and you decide it’s not the worst idea to just enjoy the silence and read your respective books. Elvis is something spiritual that you find a bit dense and yours is just a classic novel, one you’ve read a million times but it still delights you every time you do. The only noise that breaks the silence is Elvis’s or your occasional hums and his body shifts under you, his thighs tightening just a bit as he does every so often. You think you’ll be fine, that you’re so tired after today that there’s no worry about either one of you becoming aroused but the more you hear Elvis’s hums and feel his cock slowly starting to harden the more you can’t ignore the slowly growing ache between your legs. The more you can’t ignore how you feel your arousal pooling in between your legs, how it’s likely starting to cover your fiance's cock as you inadvertently clench around it. You try to resist the urge to react to what’s happening but you find that the tiredness you feel lends itself well to you falling prey to your own base desires.

"Daddy." You whine, grinding your ass back against him. His cock is already in you but he isn't moving and it isn't as hard as you'd like. Normally you're not like this, not nearly as needy, something about how for some reason your hormones haven't affected you the way he swears other women are. You've still got several months left but this is the most aroused you've been in a while. 

A hand moves to grasp at your hip while the other moves between your legs, that hand moving to cup your mound, a finger moving to brush against your clit in a way that has you hissing softly. 

"Christ, Mama, all that just from keeping jolly ole Saint Elvis warm?" He pulls his hand up and moves to taste the juices you've left on his finger. "Tastes like you need me pretty bad. Tastes like my Missus needs her present early from lil Elvis."

A short keen escapes your lips as you nod quickly, embarrassingly eager for him to move, for you to get more than just warming his cock. You need it, you want it, your cunt clenches around him, trying to be greedy and already get more of him despite his now fully hard cock already being in you. 

“Goddamn.” He whispers against your neck, kissing at it and moving the hand that had already been playing with your clit back to its rightful place, sliding in so easily to rub a tight pattern against it, pressing just so in a way that had you biting your lips to try and avoid making noise. “Should have waited ‘till we got to the room, make it so you could make all those pretty little noises for me. You gonna be able to stay quiet, Mrs. Claus?”

Focusing on words long enough to answer is a feat as you rock against him, meeting his small thrusts into you with as much fervor as you can which isn’t much all things considered but truthfully tonight wasn’t about how quick or how hard the two of you could have sex, no it was just about being together as one entity. “I’ll stay quiet, Elvis. Might be the night of Christmas, but not a creature should be stirring.”

He huffs out a laugh against your neck, nipping at it softly as he thrusts particularly hard and deep into you. “Not even an us?”

Your own laugh comes out a little stilted as you feel his fingers rub in time with that thrust, the sensation causing your toes to curl just a bit. “Only an us. God, Elvis, right-” You grind a little harder in his lap, chasing after the feeling of the thrust he just did. “Right there, just keep touching right there.” 

His answering hum is punctuated with another thrust, this time angled a little more to the front, using his hand that still hasn’t left your hip to move you back just a hair. That same hand moves to your breasts, cupping one of them in his hand as his thumb plays with your nipple. He can feel you fluttering, feel that you’re starting to reach the edge. Your whole body always tightens in a certain way when you’re almost there, and he can feel it, can feel how you want to let go. Your breath quickens as your chest starts to heave a little under his ministrations. His movements quicken as he thrusts up into you, body trying to give you exactly what you need. 

Normally you can warn him, tell him you’re about to cum but right now your eyes are shut as your body focuses on the roughness of the calluses of his fingers on your nipple and on your clit. Everything narrows in on you and Elvis and the fireplace. The warmth of your love and of the heat of the blanket and of the fire coming together to have you clenching around him, cumming with a choked off moan as you feel him following suit for once cumming just a bit after you, the warmth of his cum adding to the overwhelming feeling of toastiness you feel.

It takes longer than either of you would like to admit to catch your breath, you because of the baby and him because he wasn’t necessarily prepared to be fucking you like that. When you do though, you slip out of him, both of you whining just a little before looking at each other and grinning. You turn to face him, noting how both of your robes are in a state of disarray and if his face is anything to go by you both look fucked out and exhausted, sweat sticking to both of you. As if he reads your mind, Elvis moves to get up, grunting a bit with the effort and making a face at how his body makes some cracking noise somewhere before holding out his hand to pull you up. Once you’re up, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and starts to lead you out of the room, the blanket forgotten but far far away from the fire that’s starting to burn itself out. He places a kiss to your temple as he walks with you up the stairs.”We’re gonna be married by next Christmas, gonna have this baby bouncin’ around everywhere and gonna have you be my wife, Mama. Promise, second you wanna have that wedding, I’ll be right there.”

A smile crosses your lips as you nuzzle into his chest. “Careful and I’ll ask for a courthouse wedding when they’re open next.” 

He just laughs softly pulling you even tighter against him. “I’ll get to callin’ tomorrow mornin’ and makin’ the arrangements. After we sleep.”

There’s a retort on your lips that you swallow in favor of nodding. “After we sleep.”

He wasn’t kidding about calling that next morning.

[anotherghoul666]

This Could All Be Yours

STRIPPER!AU STRIPPER!AU GUYS IT’S HERE I FINISHED IT IT’S HERE

This is my offering to this wonderful community of horny and supportive people for the holidays. Yule blessings aplenty on you if you’re pagan like me / merry christmas if that’s something you celebrate / happy hanukkah / if you celebrate another holiday at this time of year I wish you a good one. And if it’s a weird or difficult period of the year for you then I hope this fic brightens your day and brings some positivity in! ❤️

Pairing: Swiss/Rain

Rating: Explicit

Tags / contains: stripper!AU; come discover the setting of the Ghost strip club in all its glory, possibilities and inner workings; get to know each ghoul and their jobs in the stripper!verse; Rain is not in the band / get to know everyone through his eyes; fish out of water trope; every ghoul gets a whole ass scene at least, sometimes more than one scene (yes that’s partly why it’s so big XD); sex worker appreciation; fat bodies appreciation; normal bodies appreciation; yes all the moves I name in the dance scenes are real and you can google the names to see exactly what move the strippers are doing; THE OUTFITS YOU GUYS, the outfits I put the strippers in, I had so much fun with the outfits, please come gush over the outfits with meeeeeeeee; stripper/client dynamic; light D/s vibes; dom!Rain kinda? he tries his best; sub!Swiss kinda? at least he listens; watch these two dorks simultaneously develop a crush on each other; lap dances; private dances; breaking strip club rules; grinding; nipple play; frottage / jacking off dicks together; cum play; breaking even more club rules; idiots in love.

Summary: Rain is an abbey ghoul with a rather monotonous and repetitive life. He’d like a change, but he can’t quite seem to make it happen. It’s his lack of confidence that’s the issue, his coworkers say, and they give him all sorts of tips, tricks and challenges to help him grow. Including a dare to go spend an evening at the infamous Ghost Strip Club. The ever popular establishment, high-end provider of the most enticing and luxurious sins of the flesh, equally intimidates and fascinates Rain. Beyond the heavy cathedral doors of the club lies a whole world of temptations and pleasures with its own rules, its own codes, its own inhabitants. Rain gets a taste of the peculiar staff of the club in more ways than one, and he also gets a confidence lesson he won’t soon forget. What better way to learn how to be bold than some hands on practice?

Read it here on AO3!!

Tagging the usernames I wrote down for people who showed interest in this fic in my comments and asks, etc: @joeynihil @st-danger @reaperghoul @ghostnamelesfan @sodo-emeritus @namelessghouls-primemover (I dunno if you changed your username or deleted buddy but just in case Imma still tag it the way it used to be written in case you recognize yourself) @merginyourface @royalchachi @crimsonclergy @unholybuttholey @arsonyard @idkhowbut-art @blanchebees I'm sure there's others I missed and forgot to write down specifically, I'm sorry, consider yourself tagged if you were part of the stripper!AU hype train with us too! ❤️

[charlotte-official]

Hey there!

Charlotte here, writer for a newspaper in Fontaine!

Y’know, the Steambird?

Well here I am! This side gig of mine is just like a sub segment of the Steambird, but exclusively here, on tumblr!

For all your Teyvat-official account drama and weekly shenanigans, tune in every SundayTuesday(or wednesday i have no idea im always late either way) for a post on how the week went!

Thanks a ton!

I hope to see you around~

PS! You can tune in and view all of our issues on the "issues!" tab at charlotte-official.tumblr.com check it out!!

(Ahem. So in other words, hey, yknow those Genshin official accounts? ex @the-wanderer-official or @sayu-official, well, for relatively inactive accounts like wanderer or albedo who don’t know what has happened and want to catch up on posting, I’m your gal! Also for normal people who don’t want to just read all those text posts. Anyway, tune in for summaries, special favorite excerpts of mine, etc. I take suggestions, so feel free to slide into the ask box!)

Also for the full Charlotte-official-steambird-summaries experience, I’d recommend going on the literal website. I decorated. It looks cool too I swear

11/11: As of November 11, I now do rp blog promo! I wouldn't say it would particularly do much, but always feel free to ask for it! I don't mind at all!

12/25: Merry christmas if you celebrate and happy holidays to everyone else!! ...Also I will no longer be publishing my Steambird articles on Sunday. I will be moving it to Tuesday. Following such, after my break of sorts(yikes piled with schoolwork) I will be officially returning tomorrow and swear to actually work on my outlines to provide the issues you all hold in a high regard (love for you all).

1/15/24: this is purely just for me but i have one other tag and its literally just hibiscus anon giving me information because my monkey brain can't keep up with everything. and another tag for just all informants in general. i just want you all to know you are all amazing i would be dead lying on the ground for the rest of my days without you all

[burst-of-iridescent]

zutara christmas positivity tag

merry christmas zutara fam! to celebrate this festive period i thought it would be nice to do a positivity tag and celebrate our wonderful little community <33

rules: tag 10 zutara blogs (blogs that aren’t for zutara alone but ship zutara are fine!) and tell them something you love about them or their blog!

of course, i’ll start us off:

1. @stars-and-darkness-main ella my beloved your posts are always a slay. i love all the cool tidbits of information i get from your blog and of course, your taste in ships is *chef’s kiss*

2. @theotterpenguin bestie your metas are so well thought out and eloquent that i honestly don’t even need to read them to know they’re an instant reblog. if you’re not following el then... what are you even doing with your life? 

3. @kaligraphy my sweet child i adore your lovely headcanons. you singlehandedly made me a kuzaang and rozin shipper, and we all know atla would be so much better if you were in charge of it. 

4. @night-heron-writes as much as you slander me, darling lea, i love how incredibly knowledgeable you are (as your many AUs will prove) and for being the calm, level headed rock of the cillana family! 

5. @ilovegirlsgeneration dear jehona, thank you for your amazingly unique blend of chaos, and your talent at memes. even when i shake my head in concern, i can’t help but laugh at your antics. 

6. @thevictorianghost i love how much we share in common, and the wide array of media and topics we can chat about! i always look forward to seeing your messages in my DMs <3

7. @solborealis darling sol, where would we be without your cool headcanons and your heartwrenching angst (let alone setting up our wonderful server)? zk fandom truly has so much to thank you for. 

8. @katara-stan-club air, your blog just has everything a person could need. whether it’s zutara fanart, important information, or telling terfs to fuck off, i know i’ll always love your posts! 

9. @wingchunwaterbender i always look forward to your tags on my posts! the zutara content you post slaps every time, and i also love how much you discuss issues of social justice and use your platform for good. 

and of course, saving the best for last: 

10. @tiny-katara my beloved wife, i can’t even list just one thing i love about you and your blog because i love it all. from the way you slay anons to your wonderful taylor swift series that began our friendship to your excellent metas, your blog has everything a zutara stan could ever want. if anyone isn’t following cilla yet, do it rn because trust me, you’ll never regret it <333

edit: lmao i’m fucking stupid and forgot to actually tag anyone but i’m tagging everyone mentioned in the post and anyone else who wants to do it!

[imweirdlikeso]

akikasa fic recs part 3

Hope everyone’s year is Going Great (mine is Not)

i don't want to pick the moon (i want the moon to come to me) | PAIRING: RUI/TSUKASA, MIZUKI/ENA, AKITO/TSUKASA | Summary: "tsukasa thought that if he remained by rui's side and loved him, that one day rui would come to love him too. but rui already stopped his gaze on somebody, and that person was the brightest star tsukasa had ever laid his eyes on." | WARNINGS: Super Sad but we Get AkiKasa at the End L Rui Another W for AkiKasa | FINISHED | this is Mainly RuiKasa BUT THERE IS AKKS IN CHAP 2!!

a small tumble with a large concussion | PAIRING: AKITO/TSUKASA | Summary: "“oh, nothing.” she waved him off, before continuing. “akito always acted like this when he was younger, he always got clingy after an injury, no matter the size.” that’s.. actually really cute. ..as in!! really cute for his sister to remember that, obviously!! or, the sports festival race between mizuki and akito goes a little bit differently." | WARNINGS: Nothing Major, Mentions of Injuries tho! CLINGY AKITO EVERYONE CLINGY AKITO I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! | FINISHED ONE-SHOT

this is like one of my sister's shoujo mangas but like, worse | PAIRING: AKITO/TSUKASA | Summary: "akito has a weird dream involving tsukasa and then he spiritually dies" | WARNINGS: Akito is a LOSER for his bf! | FINISHED 

Shooting Star | PAIRING: AKITO/TSUKASA | Summary: "“This is bad, isn’t it? Akito just groaned at the idea of cheesecake.” “Tsukasa-senpai would often bring him cheesecake for lunch.” “Ah. That explains that.” “No it doesn’t.” or; Akito confesses and it doesn’t go as planned. For the most part, at least." | WARNINGS: sick sick stupid FLUFF! Kinda Slowburn but other than that theres Really Nothing | FINISHED

piano akikasa | PAIRING: AKITO/TSUKASA | Summary: "He’s seen 𝘛𝘴𝘶𝘬𝘢𝘴𝘢 play the piano before - but that was different. That was when he was onstage. Regardless, he’s already passed him, therefore making it officially none of his business. The moment he hears Tsukasa play the piano, however, it felt like the wind was effectively knocked out of his breath and - 𝘰𝘩, 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬. 𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥?" (part 1) | WARNINGS: fics R Connected, you can Kinda read them on their Own but i Highly recommend you read from part 1-5 | SERIES

Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow | PAIRING: AKITO/TSUKASA | Summary: ""Akito, I-um. I'm sorry. I can't leave the office tonight." His lover's voice record begins. Not listening to the whole recording yet, but Akito feels like wants to cry. "And I even need to cancel other plans tomorrow. I- I was devastated. I'm sorry. I am the only one that could be in the office tonight and tomorrow. Everyone... Well, they left early. So, I need to cover up things. Please don't wait for me. I've called Saki and others to accompany you, though! Hope you had fun celebrating Christmas Eve with them. Love you, Akito. Merry C-" He shut down his phone. Tossed it back on the sofa where he picks. He grips his hand hard. Feeling betrayed. Because this is the third time Tsukasa do the same thing to him. It was the same day. Same scene. Same voice recording of regret and apologies. Akito could not help but feel so sad. He has arranged everything. The Christmas tree, the presents for Tsukasa, the feast he cooked." | WARNINGS: angst with a Happy Ending. Cried Tears of Joy | FINISHED

wonderlands (no more) showtime | PAIRING: AKITO/TSUKASA | Summary: "Tsukasa plans on leaving Wonderlands × Showtime. He just needs a little push to make up his mind." | WARNINGS: STABBING, Major Character Injury, Accidents, Blood scene | FINISHED

until we meet again! / colorful stage stories | PAIRING: AKITO/TSUKASA, OTHER PAIRINGS AS WELL BUT MOSTLY AKKS | WARNINGS: Please look at the tags Before reading. This is a Series so there are Many fics and Some of my warnings will Not apply, so PLEASE look at each tag. also the First three fics are Connected i Cried fr ANON WHO ARE YOU I LOVE YOUR WRITING | SERIES

I said I love you, kitten. | PAIRING: AKITO/TSUKASA | Summary: "Tsukasa’s sister Kanade introduces him to the app she uses to communicate with her music circle, and comes across this ‘Chesecak🤤’ person, that he seemed to get along with. After a while, they grow very close and Tsukasa ends up becoming their Nightcord kitten. Chesecak🤤 seems to know everything about Tsukasa, but little did he know, Chesecak🤤 wasn’t just some random guy he found on Nightcord…" | WARNINGS: So Funny you will Cry FR!! it's actually Part of a Series where tsukasa is well. a Discord Kitten for diff charas.. | FINISHED

A Last Moment to Say (I Don't Want You to Leave) | PAIRING: AKITO/TSUKASA | Summary: "Fuck. Shinonome Akito is sitting in an alleyway, bleeding out. Fuck fuck fuck. His head is racing. It's hard to breathe. Everything hurts. Fuck, this was a mistake. Akito makes some stupid decisions and gets himself in load of trouble. Maybe more than he can handle." | WARNINGS: STAB WOUNDS, Major Character Injury, Major Character Death | FINISHED | did i Mention this Reminded me of that One yeetoldy art....iykyk

quiet nights alone | PAIRING: AKITO/TSUKASA | Summary: AkKs making out, author has stated this is not intended to sexualised them in the notes. ("‼️ I AM IN NO WAY SEXUALISING THESE CHARACTERS. I HAVE NO INTENTION OF SEXUALISING THEM. FOR ME, MAKING OUT IS NOT A SEXUAL ACT BUT IT MAY BE FOR SOME. THEY ARE NOT PERFORMING ANY SEXUAL ACTS IN THIS FIC ‼️") | WARNINGS: no warnings But fic is in Lowercase is that bothers you! this is Non-Sexual Intimacy, Non-Sexual Making out. idk if i have to Say this Again but in No Way was this Intended to be sexual (if it was Why would i rec it) | FINISHED

ill pick you flowers while you count the hours | PAIRING: AKITO/TSUKASA | Summary: "Working as the town florist was not an easy job for Akito. Though, seeing the King on his shop’s doorstep was among the last things he had expected to happen to him. “W-Welcome. Let me know if there’s anything I can help with.” He isn’t normally this polite, what’s wrong with him?" | WARNINGS: Nothing Major but Unreliable narrator is that Bothers you | FINISHED

The Feeling Called Love | PAIRING: AKITO/TSUKASA | Summary: "Shinonome Akito, was now working as an Auto Memory Doll, who is a ghostwriter that helps people write letters. Tenma Tsukasa, needed a love letter as lyrics for the climax part of his new opera." | WARNINGS: Mentions of war/military & Minor Character death, dialogue heavy if that Bothers you | FINISHED | yeah Shameless self promo because i Want clout

AkiKasa fic recs pt.1 AkiKasa fic recs pt.2

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

Felix Navidad || Felix x Reader

Pairing: Felix x f!reader

Summary: You keep seeing Felix around. First he falls in your courtyard on Christmas Eve, then you see him hiding chocolate eggs in a park, and then he appears on the staircase behind your apartment, in the middle of the night. It’s unusual, and you have no idea what it means. What you do know, though, is that you’re absolutely fascinated by him, who he is, and the light and joy he seems to bring with him everywhere he goes. Even if you have no idea who or what he is, all that you want is to find out more — and get to spend a little more time with him.

Word count: 16.4k

Genre: Strangers (to Friends) to Lovers, Christmas Evel!au, fluff, angst.

Warnings & Tags: a number of references to a dead parent, sfw, kissing, language, mentions of insecurities, some anxiety on the part of the reader, hypothermia (don’t do what OC does!), everyone makes a cameo.

A/N: Merry Christmas to all those who celebrate, and happy holidays to everyone! So this little Christmas-themed piece is what I’ve been working on this non-stop (not really, but close enough) for the past two weeks. It’s my first piece for Stray Kids and for Felix, and it’s been a lot of fun to do. I would love to get your feedback, and I really hope you’ll enjoy your reading ^-^

The first time you see him, it’s the middle of the night, on the 24th of December.

Well, technically, it’s late enough that it’s the 25th, but your mom used to say that the new day started at sunrise, and since this is her favorite time of the year, you follow her rules for once.

Was. Was her favorite time of the year.

You keep forgetting.

It’s three am, and you’re throwing out the trash. You’ve been cleaning up your apartment, because tonight is as good a night as any to clean, especially since you don’t have to get up in the morning. You can see the colored lights of the Christmas decorations that have been set up in the street flashing on and off against the buildings, but you can’t admire them, because you’re standing in this sad courtyard, frowning in disgust, just wanting to throw your bag in the already stuffed dumpster and get it over with. When you get back into your apartment, you’ll probably watch movies until you pass out.

That’s the best use of your time you can think of on Christmas night.

For now, though, you’re trudging through grayish, melted snow, and bitterly regretting that you didn’t bother to put on shoes before going out. You’re probably ruining your slippers. You’re also freezing cold, the air icy on the tip of your nose, but you only need to be outside for a few seconds, a minute tops. You’ll be good. You’ve thrown a coat on, but you’re only wearing your pajamas underneath, which is fine, because it’s not like you’re going to be meeting anyone outside on Christmas Eve at this time of the—

And then there’s a scream.

But it does that weird, almost cartoonish thing, where it starts out really distant, and it gets closer, and you’re trying to figure out where the hell it’s coming from because it doesn’t sound like it’s from the street, but also you’re alone in the courtyard, and then suddenly there’s a thud behind you, and the scream stops.

You whirl around, staring at the heap of snow behind you. Some killjoy cleaned up most of the courtyard and put the snow in a corner, forbidding the kids from playing with it, and you almost snarked “Oh that’s some great Christmas spirit”, but then you held back, because what did you care about Christmas spirit for? Now, you’re staring at the two legs that are coming out of the heap of snow, and you realize, oh, no, that someone was falling, and your stomach drops when your brain slowly puts two and two together, and you understand that they must be—

A cough comes up from the heap of snow, and you couldn’t physically move faster towards it. Before you get there, though, the person abruptly sits up, simultaneously rubbing their back and their head. They’re wearing all red, and one of those Santa hats, and, dumbly, you think that maybe they’re one of those part timers who work in malls around this period.

But it doesn’t add up. Primarily because the person — the boy, you correct yourself — does not look the part. Blonde hair are coming out of the hat, down to around his chin. He doesn’t have a big white beard, but instead he has a pointy face and, even in the semi-light provided by the streetlights and some of the lit windows of your building, you can tell that it’s covered with freckles.

He’s… incredibly pretty. That’s the first word that comes to your mind.

He could be an elf, you think, distractedly, and then you shake your head when he hisses out in pain.

“Are you okay?” you ask. You’re not loud, but your voice tears through the silence of the night, and the boy freezes, eyes going comically wide as he turns to look at you.

“Oh, shit,” he says, and you’re completely taken aback by how deep his voice sounds. He looks young, but the voice definitely places him older. Probably not too far from your age, actually. “Did you— Did you see anything?”

You have no idea what he’s talking about.

“Er, I heard you— Screaming, I think?”

His shoulders relax, and he sighs audibly, clearly relieved.

“You can’t tell anyone I was here, okay?”

You blink slowly. You hear a heavy accent in his words, but you’re mostly trying to make sense of what he’s saying, because, uh, weird. Who, exactly, would you be telling about him?

Then again, he did fall from high up. Maybe he hit his head. Maybe he’s concussed.

“Do you need help?” you ask. It’s not quite like you to be this concerned over a stranger, but, well, he’s cute, he doesn’t seem dangerous, he could be in trouble, and it’s Christmas. If there’s any day where you should try to be kind, it’s probably tonight.

He blinks at you, then gives you a toothy smile.

“Can you help me out of here, maybe?”

You can’t even think of saying no, so you walk through the melted snow, and reach out to him. Gloved fingers wrap around yours, and then you pull. You’re just thinking that you’ve overestimated your ability to stand upright and that you’re going to fall face first into the snow when he manages to pull himself up, and suddenly he’s standing real close to you, one hand grabbing your shoulder to stabilize himself. He’s taller than you by a hair, and you find yourself staring straight into warm black eyes, breath catching in your throat.

He’s smiling sweetly, with maybe just a hint of mischief dancing in his pupils. You can feel your cheeks burning up, even as your brain is going ‘And what now?’ in the background.

Then there’s a loud honk outside and he turns around, attention called to it. You use the opportunity to take a small step back, trying to gather your mind, because wow, every single rational thought just flew out the window.

“I have to run,” he says with a pout, looking back at you. “But thank you for your help! And remember,” he presses a finger against his lips, “don’t tell anyone about this.”

You blink at him. Again, you want to ask if he needs help, but there’s another honk, and though he rolls his eyes at it, he lets go of your hand and takes a step back.

“Goodbye! Merry Christmas!”

And just like that, he runs out, and you’re left standing there alone in the empty courtyard, wondering what the fuck just happened. Your teeth start to chatter, and you realize you’ve spent way too much time outside considering how you’re dressed. There’s a good chance you’ll wake up with cold tomorrow.

Fucking amazing.

It only takes a few days for you to start wondering if the whole thing ever even happened. You don’t run into the guy again in your apartment building — and maybe you’re a little sad about it —, and, of course, there’s not a shred of evidence that the event ever took place.

You haver other stuff on your mind any way. Your dad calls you, and you know he’s doing it mostly to check in on you. You’re fine with it. It’s good to know that he’s doing okay, even if, like you, he forewent Christmas this year.

“I’m not in the mood to celebrate,” he’d said. Neither were you.

Of course, your sister calls you too, says you’re invited at her place for New Year’s, and that you could always come for Christmas next year if you felt like it, her daughter would love to see her aunt, and it’s sweet, really, it is. You almost feel bad knowing that you won’t do it, but you don’t think you can. It’s almost sadder that you don’t want to want to go. You’re not sure what Christmas means to her, but you know it doesn’t hold the same place to you.

For you, Christmas was about family. And that shattered a while back.

Then you call your brother, and he tells you about how insanely wasted he got on Christmas Eve and how he ended up spending the night in police custody with a bunch of people, and they sang Christmas carols, and it makes you laugh to tears.

He has bigger plans for New Year’s Eve, he says, and, as the responsible older sibling, you advise him against it, but you couldn’t possibly be more delighted.

So, slowly, the blonde boy you met in the snow, his freckles and his deep voice slip out of your mind, and when the snow melts completely, there simply isn’t anything left to remind you of him at all.

You see him again on a Sunday in April. He’s not dressed in red this time, and you could have walked by him without realizing. It’s a loud, deep laugh that makes you turn your head in his direction, and that’s when you find him, running around in a park across the street. He’s wearing a hairband with bunny ears, this time, and he’s holding a basket filled with chocolate eggs.

So maybe he is a part-timer who just gets hired for all those holidays things. It doesn’t explain how he apparently fell into your courtyard that night, but it at least justifies the attire.

You watch, kind of amused, as he hides the eggs, and then runs out, meeting up with several other guys, all wearing the bunny ears. His laugh rings out again, loud and cheerful, and his smile is so bright you feel it could light up the whole world.

It makes you really happy that you didn’t just make him up. Your interaction with him might have been brief, but there’s a deep conviction inside you that tells you that the world is truly a better place for having him in it.

For a split second, you consider saying hi, but you immediately drop the idea with a horrified shudder. There’s no way he remembers you, and, also, he’s clearly with friends. And maybe on the clock. It would be weird in so many ways, and, actually, you’ve probably already been staring for too long.

You feel a pang in your chest, thinking that you’re unlikely to ever see him again, that you probably won’t ever talk to him again. It fills you with a strange kind of nostalgia, for a version of you and your life where you’re friends with him and get to see that smile of his regularly, but it’s also not an unpleasant feeling, you decide. There’s something hopeful about it.

Hope is something you could have more of in your life.

You’re turning away to go when the boys jump into an old van that was probably originally pink, but is more of a dirty gray at the moment. You see it drive by you, and your eyes can’t help but follow it. One of the boys is struggling to close the back doors, and you can still hear laughter coming from it. It seems that everyone’s having fun inside, and it makes you think that you should probably check in with your friends from high school, because that’s who they remind you of. There used to be a large group of people you talked to. You slowly fell out with them, but there are probably some you could reach out to. You wonder what they’ve been up to.

The van turns left at an intersection, and you wonder where all this merry little band is off to, but you don’t get to speculate, because there’s this sort of— red flash, surrounding it, and the van just fucking— disappears. You’re not sure how to explain what happened, but you do know that you freeze in place, and a young man in a suit and tie bumps into you, cursing under his breath.

No one reacts to it, no one noticed, but you’re sure it just happened. The van didn’t quite— vanish, it was more like there was an invisible door or something and it went through it, progressively disappearing, but that doesn’t make it any easier to accept.

Shit. Are you hallucinating? Do you need to go to a doctor? Get your head checked?

You hate going to the doctor, so it’s unlikely that you’ll try that.

Aliens? Could these guys be aliens? That guy did fall from the sky, after all.

Then again, if all aliens are doing is running around dressed as Easter bunnies and Christmas elves, you guess it doesn’t look too dire for the Earth.

This is way above your pay grade. If the cops, the secret services or the fucking government want to work on that, they should, but you’re— you just cannot right now.

So, after standing still for a little while, you get moving again. Wondering what the hell you just saw, but being so completely unable to answer it that you almost don’t want to think of it ever again.

Teleportation? Could it be teleportation? Is that a thing that’s been developed somewhere? What if these guys were part of the military and on a secret testing mission?

Does that make any kind of sense?

Black magic. They’re demons who have been summoned into your world, and left when they were done.

Summoned to deliver chocolate eggs.

Being at home may be the thing you enjoy the most these days. Your apartment may be small, but it’s more than enough for you, and your cat hasn’t complained either. She spends most of her time on your sofa, and when she wants a change of scenery, she goes to your room or to the window.

She used to sleep in your sink, too, until your dad cut you a wooden plate to put over it, because she left hair everywhere.

Tonight, she settles next to you on the couch, just too far for you to pet her. It’s fine; you appreciate that she’s willing to grace you with her presence.

You bundle yourself under a blanket. It’s almost autumn, and the air was chilly on your way back from work, so you’re glad to be able to enjoy the warmth now. You’re all set for the evening, your ramyeon steamy on the table, and your computer all ready to play whatever program you’ll settle on — if you manage to settle on anything and don’t default to eating while scrolling desperately through Netflix.

You’ve only taken a few bites when something moving in your peripheral vision makes you look up.

And it happens again. For the third time, your blonde boy — not your blonde boy, the blonde boy, the blonde man, actually, even if he looks young, he might be upset if you called him a boy, plus his hair is almost definitely bleached, by the way, so he’s not even really blonde, you’re not quite sure where you were going with this — is in your field of vision. Except this time, he’s outside your window, carefully going down the staircase. He seems not to be wearing any kind of special attire this time, and you see a shiver run through him. He rubs his arms, taking a break right there, right in front of your window.

You realize that this is weird. Extremely weird. So were the past two instances when you saw him. But, instead of worrying you, as it definitely should, it makes you feel almost— at ease. Like he’s out of this world, like he’s almost not real, and how could someone who’s not real hurt you, when reality’s already torn you apart so badly?

You’re desperate for a little bit of the magic he seems to bring with him every time you see him.

So you get out from under your blanket, ignore your cat when she meows at you for daring to leave her alone, set the ramyeon aside, and go to open your window.

The sound of it makes him jump. His eyes go wide, but he almost immediately breaks into a wide smile when he sees you.

“I thought I might run into you again here!”

Oh. That’s— unexpected. He seems to realize that it takes you aback, because he quickly raises a hand and shakes it, trying to clear up the misunderstanding.

“Not in a— in a weird way or anything. I’m just— I don’t meet a lot of people, because of my job. So I thought it would be cool if I saw you again. And I remembered you lived around here. I’m not stalking you. I swear.”

He gets more and more desperate as you let him ramble on, so you take pity on him.

Well. Not really.

“So you’re a thief,” you say. “Did you rob one of my neighbors?”

You hope it’s that woman who’s always complaining about children existing and — gasp — being happy.

“No!” he protests.

There the accent is again. Not that it’s ever completely gone, but it’s particularly noticeable on that one syllable.

“What’s that, then?” you ask, eyeing the small bag he’s holding in his hand. He glances down at it, then hides it behind his back.

“I swear it’s nothing bad.” You raise an eyebrow. “You’re going to think it’s way weirder, if I show you.”

This should ring all sorts of alarm bells in your head. There’s basically no way not to interpret that in a shady way. But he looks cute, justifying himself, and, again, you just cannot imagine him doing anything bad, ever. He feels— too good to be true, you suppose, and the moment is just so completely surreal that you don’t question it. You just let yourself enjoy watching it happen.

“So, do you want to come in to take the stairs? It’s cold outside and, you know, the chances of falling to your death are lower.”

His lips form a surprised ‘o’, and you vaguely think that it’s really adorable, how easy it is to read his emotions.

“That’s super nice of you to offer, actually,” he says. “You don’t mind?”

Opening the door for him? No, you don’t.

So you take a step back, and watch him deftly climb in through your window. You see him glancing around in your apartment, taking it in with curious eyes. You could feel awkward about it, and the place is a bit messy, but you really love it, and you’re not going to feel ashamed for what it is. It’s not much, but it’s yours.

“That’s super cozy,” he comments, the corner of his eyes wrinkling as he smiles. A strange sense of pride swells in your chest, and it only grows stronger when he goes “Oh, and you have a cat!”

So he’s a cat person. You knew he couldn’t be all bad.

“The hallway’s that way,” you say. “I’d offer you coffee, but you’re— working right now, right?”

He sighs deeply, tearing his eyes away from your cat, and focusing on you again, and if your heart misses a beat when you meet his gaze, that’s nobody’s business but yours.

“Right,” he pouts. “I really need to go. Everyone’s gonna be waiting for me.”

By everyone, you assume he means the guys you saw at the park, but it could be anyone. You’re still not a hundred percent sure he’s not part of some— organized crime ring or something like that.

So you guide him to your door — which is just three steps away, really.

As he walks by you, you notice the butterfly wings on the back of his hoodie. It’s an unusual design, especially for a guy to wear, but it looks… kinda cool.

If you had a boyfriend with a hoodie like that, you’d definitely steal it for yourself.

“Those wings look really good,” you comment, and his eyes light up.

“They are, aren’t they? The colors are so pretty.”

Then there’s an awkward silence, and he glances at the staircase behind him.

“I have to go,” he sighs. “But it was nice seeing you again! And remember, you can’t tell anyone you saw me.”

Okay, that part is definitely what weirds you out the most, of all the strange things about him.

“You’re making me think you’re a thief again.”

“No! It’s more like— You know how they say if you say you don’t believe in fairies, they die?”

“Fairies don’t exist.”

He gasps, clutching his chest dramatically, and a brief burst of laughter escapes your lips, a reaction that seems to make him happy.

“The ones I know would be very upset to hear that,” he comments, still grinning, with a curious amount of seriousness. “But yeah, it’s kind of like that, I guess. I have to stay discreet.”

You hum in response, and he chuckles.

“You don’t get it.”

“Not at all.”

That makes him laugh again. It’s cute and soft, and you want the moment to last longer, but goodbyes are obviously imminent. Which is fine, really, you’ve spent a combined time of ten minutes, tops, with that guy. It’s just… Your world is dull and grey, like the filter on some bad Marvel movie. His seems to be high-color and bright, and you think you’re getting a glimpse of that when he’s around.

It’s nice.

“Okay, I really, really have to run, but I— I’ll be around again. So maybe I’ll see you then.”

You nod.

“And I’ll get you that coffee.”

He grins.

“I’m Felix, by the way.”

Oh. Names. Right. That’s a thing people do when they meet each other, sometimes. So you give him yours in response, and his smile widens.

“It’s nice to meet you. Well, formally, I guess. ‘Cause we’ve met already.” Then he rolls his eyes at himself, and sighs. “Okay. I’m off. Now.”

“Bye, Felix!”

“Bye!”

And you watch him rush to the staircase and head down, then disappear.

He’s gone again.

When you get back inside, you take a little longer than usual to close the window. Once it’s done, you know you’ll have no proof of his existence, again.

But it’s cold out, and you don’t want to waste your electricity, so you still do. Your world is back to its pragmatic grays, and the magical colors in the wings of Felix’s back disappeared with him.

Mafia? No, that doesn’t make sense.

There’s no way Felix could be in the mafia. Or, like, a mafia of nice people, maybe.

So, you know. Not the mafia.

It’s hard not to look around for Felix, after that encounter, but that seems to be in vain, and you resign yourself to just waiting for him to show up again. It will be a surprise, you tell yourself half-heartedly. It’s fine. You grew up in a family that loved the impromptu, that decided to leave for holidays on a whim, and you know first hand that that can go wrong, but also how charming it can be, when it goes right.

And if you see Felix again, that can only mean that it’s gone right.

Right?

On Christmas, that year, you’re cleaning up your apartment again. It’s just a good time for that, you’ve decided. Getting rid of the old, getting ready to start the new year with a clean slate — or, at least, a spotless apartment. You listen to music, you stay busy, you don’t think of the people you miss, of the people who aren’t here, of the people you chose not to meet up with tonight. You just take care of what’s in front of you. Of what you can fix.

It’s past 4 am when you go down to take out the trash, this time. Partly because your sleep schedule’s gotten worse this year, and partly because if you’d gone out at three, you’d have known you were hoping to see Felix, and that’s— weird. And kinda pathetic, in your opinion.

It’s snowing when you step outside. A soft layer covers the ground, and if it keeps going like that, maybe the kids in the building will get to play outside tomorrow, before the old lady insists the courtyard gets cleared.

Snow for Christmas. Even you think that’s nice.

You stand by the door for a moment, just staring up at the sky. The night is quiet, all sounds muffled under the snow. It’s pretty. For a split second, you can see the appeal in Christmas, feel the magic of the season.

Then you cross the courtyard to throw out the trash, and you feel a grin forming on your face at the thought of the incongruity in all that. Magic of the season. Right.

It’s when you turn around that you see them.

The two red-clad legs, sticking out of a pile of snow in a corner.

Your heart drops.

Unlike the previous year, though, you don’t freeze. It only takes a second before you’re stepping forward — running, maybe.

It’s Felix. Lying on his back, eyes closed, blonde hair in the snow. Even in this stillness, he looks like an angel, but you can’t linger on that. You check his pulse with a trembling hand. His skin’s much colder than yours, but not so cold that you immediately abandon all hope.

Your knees buckle when you find that he’s alive.

What now? An ambulance. A hospital. You need to call for help, now, there’s no time to— Fuck. You left your phone in your flat.

You waste a precious few seconds glancing behind the door and him. You could run upstairs, but you can’t imagine leaving him here. You take your decision quickly, because you don’t feel that you have a choice. Reaching for him, you try to pull him up. He’s lighter than you’d have imagined, but still too heavy for you to hope to move him alone, you realize.

There’s a pained groan.

“Felix,” you breathe out, “hey, can you stand? I need you to help me here. Please.”

Your voice is surprisingly stable, not at all reflecting the way you feel. It sounds too loud, jarring, but next to you, you feel him straightening up. He calls your name, voice slurred and confused.

“Hey,” you say, already starting to walk towards the door. You’ve wrapped an arm around his waist, and your other hand is holding on to his wrist for dear life, having slung his arm around your shoulders. He’s helping, but he still weighs a lot more than you’re able to lift.

Note to self: consider working out in order to be able to carry people. Note to self: consider working out.

“I’m just taking you inside before I call an ambulance, okay?” Again, your voice sounds wrong to your ears. The soft way you’re speaking, like you’re explaining something to a child. You’re too calm for this. It’s that strange calm that overtakes you when something really bad’s happening. You know there’s underlying panic, but on the surface, everything is flat and even. It always feels like you’re not reacting the way you should, but at least that way you’re able to make decisions.

“No ambulance,” Felix mumbles next to you. “Can’t.”

You get him into the elevator, and let yourself sink to the floor with your back against the wall. His head falls onto your shoulder, and you blink, quickly taking off your coat to throw it over his shoulders. Then you press your hands to his forehead, his cheeks, and he sighs in delight, nuzzling your palms, like a cat would. It would be cute, but all you can think about is how cold he is.

“Warm,” he comments, and you bite your lip to stop it from trembling.

“I have to call an ambulance,” you whisper to him, gently cradling his face. “You might have hypothermia. I don’t know how to—”

His eyes open, and stare right into yours.

“No. No ambulance. Please.”

Your words die in your mouth. You’re not the type to give in to people easily, especially when it’s for their own good. But Felix’s voice is hoarse, pained, and there’s something so determined in his eyes. And then there’s the fact that you can’t stop thinking about what he told you about the fairies, last time you saw him. Which is stupid, you’re aware of that. There’s no such thing as fairies. Felix probably isn’t going to die if other people see him.

It’s the ‘probably’ in that sentence that worries you.

The elevator dings, and you get up again. So does Felix, leaning against you for it.

“No ambulance,” he repeats as you get to your door. You bite your lip harder as you open it, fishing the keys out of the coat you’ve given him. You don’t know what to do. You — obviously — cannot let him die. You don’t want to risk it, and you’re positive calling an ambulance is what you should do. Yet there’s that nagging ‘But what if’ in the back of your mind, and you simply cannot get rid of it, no matter how hard to try to ignore it.

“Okay,” you say once you’re in, helping Felix settling on the couch. The first thing you do is grab as many blankets as you have — which is three — to cover him with. “You give me a second, I’ll see if there’s anything I can do. Don’t fall asleep.”

“Hm,” he replies, and you grab your phone. Since you’re not calling an ambulance — yet —, Internet it is to find help.

“Okay,” you mumble again, quickly scrolling through, trying to ignore the fact that literally every single fucking source you can find recommend calling various help numbers, depending on the country. “Are your clothes wet?”

“Can’t tell,” Felix mumbles. “Can’t feel it.”

Oh God. None of this is good.

You kneel by the couch, run your fingers over the red fabric — you’re pretty sure he’s wearing the same stuff as last year. The fabric seems like it would be warm, which makes you feel a little relieved, and it’s not exactly wet, but it is kind of damp. You bite your lower lip, just a second, before making your decision.

“I’m going to have to get you out of that, alright? And then I’ll give you some other clothing.”

You feel nervous, almost worried saying that. You’re not completely sure you’re making the right call, because the stuff you’ve found is about wet clothing, but it just feels more careful to do that. You also, however, don’t want to make him feel uncomfortable or look like a pervert. But Felix just hums again.

So you’re quick to undress him. You’re as gentle as possible, trying not to make him move too much or too harshly, and you avert your eyes, covering him with the blanket as well as you can, once his shirt is off. You still can’t help but notice his surprisingly toned body, and how firm he feels under the touch.

Bad, (Y/N). Bad thoughts. Not the moment.

It doesn’t take you long to come back with some stuff your brother had left there. You help Felix into the hoodie that’s way, way too big for him. The pants, you manage to fasten around his waist a little easier. As you do so, you try to figure out whether or not he’s warming up. You can’t tell for sure, because he’s still so much colder than you are, but he does seem more relaxed.

“Don’t fall asleep,” you warn him again.

“Hm.”

Another look at the Internet, and you start making hot chocolate. While heating the milk, you go fetch a scarf that you carefully put around Felix’s neck. He’s completely pliant under your touch, eyes half closed, and fear creeps into you.

“You can’t fall asleep, okay?” you say, for the third time. You feel your voice trembling. You shouldn’t have listened to him. You should have called for help as soon as you got back into the apartment.

He’s going to die and it will be your fault.

“Hey,” Felix calls, and you look at him again. His head is resting on a pillow, but his eyes are open, and there’s more of a spark into them than earlier. “It’s fine. I promise. Don’t worry.”

You could cry in relief at the change in his tone. He sounds far more— coherent. Sure of himself. Not completely out of it anymore.

“I’m making you hot chocolate,” you whisper to him. Very softly, you thread your fingers through his hair, and he blinks lazily, looking at you.

He’s still so pretty. From so close, you feel like you could count all of his freckles.

You kinda want to.

“Sounds good,” he says, and he gives you the most adorable toothy grin you’ve ever seen. “I like hot chocolate.”

You open your mouth to ask what happened to him. You want to know. You never got your answer the year before, and if he fell in your courtyard, again, well, that’s— that’s no good.

And also, where the hell is he falling from?

But you decide against it at the last second, getting up to go grab a mug of that hot chocolate you just promised him.

You’re not completely sure why you don’t ask. You’re worried he won’t react well, you don’t want to agitate him right now, you think you can always ask at some other point, you’re not sure he’s in the right state to answer questions… All of that isn’t not true — but that doesn’t mean it’s the correct answer either.

Maybe the truth is that you don’t really want to know. Maybe you like that Felix has been a strange, magical presence in your life recently, and maybe you don’t want to break that magic just yet.

He thanks you with a happy smile when you come back with the mug, but his hands are too numb to hold it, so you end up getting him a straw and holding it for him, which makes him laugh. The sound is deep and pleasant, and you can’t help but grin.

“Is there anyone you want me to call?” you ask.

His eyes go wide, and the sight is comical — and adorable — with his lips wrapped around the straw. But then his shoulders fall, and you regret asking.

“No,” he says after a second. “I… don’t think I have anyone to call right now. I’ll— Is it fine if I stay here for the night? I keep—”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. ‘I keep forgetting what’s acceptable for people’ would be too weird of a thing to say. And you seem to not have been too puzzled by the weirdness he’s brought along with him so far, but he still doesn’t want to spring that stuff on you announced.

Plus you’re not supposed to know. The boys will definitely be suspicious when he comes back, and he doesn't think he’d be able to lie to them about that.

“Sure,” you’re quick to nod in reply. “I’m not going to throw you out.”

Normally, you wouldn’t be too happy about bringing a stranger into your place. But Felix seems— fine. You can’t think of any other word to describe how you feel whenever you’re around him.

If he turns out to be a serial killer, you’ll be fucked.

“Thanks,” he says quietly. “I don’t know what— If you hadn’t found me, I’d—”

That’s another sentence he can’t bring himself to finish, and this time you reach out carefully to grab his hand. It’s still cold, and you’ve read that you shouldn’t try to warm people’s hands when they’re possibly in hypothermia, but well, your gesture isn’t for, uh, warming purposes. He closes his eyes for a second, and he seems so small and lost, in the middle of the blankets you’ve covered him with, that you want nothing more than to give him a hug.

You don’t dare to, though, so you do the next best thing you can think of. You get up slowly, and you miss the way Felix’s eyes snap open and the alarmed look that shines in his pupils as he watches you walk through your living-room.

When you turn around, holding your cat, it’s all gone, and he’s smiling again. You’re careful when you put her in his lap, and he lays still, just watching her, as she walks over his chest to come sniff him. Then she rubs her face against him, and he breaks into a bright smile.

“I think she likes me,” he whispers to you like it’s a confession.

“I think so too,” you say. She’s way better than you are at judging people, too, so you consider that that definitely puts him in the ‘good people’ category.

You watch, surprised, as she settles down on his chest, curling into a ball to go back to the sleep you rudely interrupted when you picked her up. She’s not a cuddler, usually.

You’re totally not jealous.

“So,” you say, “do you… Uh…” You’re not sure what you can talk about with him. You don’t want to say anything wrong again, but also you probably should be talking, if you want to keep him awake. “I thought I saw you around town in, like, May? April? With a group of guys, I think?”

You’re not sure where you’re going with that, but after looking at you with wide eyes for a second, Felix nods energetically.

“You have good eyes,” he comments, which is a weird thing to say, but sure. “Yeah, these are my— My best friends, I guess? But also my colleagues. And my roommates.”

“That’s an interesting arrangement,” you say.

You sit down in the small gap between your coffee table and the couch, and you look up at him, elbow resting on the couch, supporting your head with your hand. That way, you can give him the chocolate if he wants more, and it’s also at his eye level, so he doesn’t have to move too much to look at you.

“It might not be usual, but it’s been kind of amazing for us. We’re— We’re super close. I’m not saying it’s always been easy,” he grins, like he’s remembering something, a memory you’re not familiar with but hope you’ll get to know about, “but they’re basically my family.”

You don’t ask why he doesn’t want you to call them then, even if the question burns your tongue. Instead, you say:

“And who’s your favorite?”

“I don’t have a favorite!” he protests, horrified, but he immediately relaxes when he sees you laugh. One of his hands move slowly to pet your cat, who he woke up. “They’re all different. You see, Chan—”

And so you get him speaking. You listen, carefully, trying to take note of everything, laughing when he tells you about Han and Hyunjin’s fight, even if you don’t know either of them. Much to your surprise, you start telling him of your family, too. Your older sister, who’s got her whole life figured out, who’s married, with the cutest daughter, lives in that pretty house with a big garden and a dog; and your dumb younger brother, who can’t seem to stop getting himself in trouble, but ultimately always makes it onto the other side okay. And when he asks, you tell him about you, in the middle, done with your studies but unsure of where to go and what to do. You have a job you don’t care for, but it pays the bills.

Felix listens too. Like he really cares about what you’re telling him.

“And you didn’t want to be with them for Christmas?” he asks gently, with his low voice, and for once, it’s not laced with pity or irritation. It’s just a question. So you answer it.

“Christmas is just sad without my mom.” It’s all there is to it, and when you see the sadness in his eyes, you quickly change the subject. “What about you? Didn’t you want to—”

“Oh. I always work on Christmas. I shouldn’t have to, but our boss is a little, uh, disorganized, and it always happens.”

“That sucks,” you say, frowning. Maybe you could get your dad to talk to him about unions and stuff. He knows his way around that kind of things.

“No, it’s fine, really. I like it. It’s an interesting night to be out and about. There’s just something in the air, you know?”

You don’t. So you listen as he describes it, gets excited, gives you all of the little details that he’s observed. It’s sweet, and it’s also absolutely fascinating to get a glimpse of what the word looks like through his eyes.

It’s like he’s sharing a little bit of his magic with you.

It’s starting to get light outside when you both fall asleep.

You have the worst pain in your lower back when you wake up. The first thing you do is curse yourself for being such a fucking moron and falling asleep with your head on the sofa. Who did you think you were, some bitch in an anime crying herself to sleep next to her bedridden love interest? For fuck’s sake.

And then, you realize that you are now, in fact, on the sofa, wrapped under a blanket. There’s a fuzzy memory of strong arms wrapping around you, warmth enveloping you, something kind whispered in your ear with a deep voice.

Also, there’s a nice smell in the air.

You sit up slowly, grimacing, and are greeted with the very interesting sight of Felix, standing in your kitchen. He’s still engulfed in the hoodie that’s too big for him, but it looks good. You get up, limbs heavy. You probably haven’t slept enough, but that will have to do.

“Are you feeling better?” you ask, walking up to him. He turns to look at you, and doesn’t recoil when you reach out to press a hand to his forehead. His temperature seems to have gone back to normal.

“I’m fine,” Felix says. “I’ve been trying to make you pancakes, but, uh, I’m not sure they’ve turned out great. They’re not my specialty.”

“That’s okay,” you say. “It’s nice that you did that.”

“I burned them.”

“It’s the thought that counts.”

“I just really wanted to make you something good. To say thank you.”

He sounds so disappointed that you think you’re about ready to melt. You’re lucky there’s no one else to see that, because you have a reputation for being tough and not taking shit from people, and that would destroy it completely.

“It’s fine, Felix, really.”

“I’ll make you cookies,” he promises. “I’m good at that.”

And he bakes. God. What more could you ask for?

“But I’m— I’m going to have to run. Soon.”

Ah. Right. Run off to somewhere you don’t know anything about, probably without leaving you a way to contact him or any hint as to where to find him.

There’s so much you don’t know about him, you remember.

“I’ll come back to see you,” he promises. There’s a strong determination to his words and he looks right into your eyes as he says it.

He seems not to have much of a concept of personal space, but you don’t mind. You swallow as your eyes drop to his plump lips, but you’re quick to look away. It makes you feel gross to think about that when he was in such a vulnerable situation, not too long ago. Even if you haven’t felt such a connection with someone else in a long, long time, you just— You can’t linger on it. It wouldn’t be right.

So you clear your throat, turning around.

“Your clothes must be dry. Do you want to change, first? You can keep that stuff if you want to, I’m sure my brother won’t miss them.”

Felix quietly mulls over your answer. You can practically see the gears turning in his head.

“Then I’ll keep the hoodie. If that’s okay with you. But the pants are…”

He lifts a leg, as if to demonstrate, and you can’t help but laugh when you realize that they’re a good fifteen centimeters too long.

It’s been a long, long time since you haven’t laughed on a Christmas day.

You’re unenthusiastically getting your grocery shopping done when hands cover your eyes, and you freeze in the middle of the alley. Your first reflex is to want to turn around and punch whoever’s doing that in the stomach — the only person you can think of who’d do that is your brother, and he’d deserve it. But the deep, deep voice that exclaims “Guess who!” behind you isn’t your brother’s.

When you spin around, you find yourself practically in Felix’s arms, and he has a bright happy smile that reveals his pearly teeth.

“I snuck out,” he says excitedly, and it makes you laugh. He has a funny way of saying it, like an excited teenager who made it out of his parents’ house, but you don’t think much of it.

“I’m glad you did!” you reply, completely genuine. You’ve missed him, kinda, when you had the time. You finished December in a blur, like you always do, and then the month of January just went by in some sort of deep slumber. You have no idea what happened during it. Hopefully nothing important.

Either way, seeing him is a breath of fresh air.

“I promised to make you cookies, so I figured, you know, maybe we could do them together?” He’s looking at you with wide, expectant eyes. He seems shy, hesitant, worried you’re going to say no.

It’s in those moments that you remember how weird the whole thing is — and also that you decide, once more, to completely ignore that aspect of it.

“Sure! I’ll just— follow your lead.”

“That’ll do great!”

“I hope you’re better at that than you were at pancakes.”

“You said you liked my pancakes!”

“I lied.”

Making cookies with Felix is certainly, uh, an interesting experience. Much to your surprise, it appears that he knows exactly what he’s doing, and he guides you through the whole thing with an authority that you wouldn’t have expected from him.

“No, no not like that—”

And, okay, every time you mess up, he comes up behind you, peeking his head over your shoulder, probably tiptoeing to do that, and his arms are on either side of you while he explains what you should be doing. His deep voice rumbles through his chest, pressed against your back, and then through you, and he smells like gingerbread and fir trees.

If someone made a candle with that smell, they’d make a ton of money. Just sayin’.

“Aw, I was so sure I had it right that time,” you say when it’s done, and he looks at you sternly. You’re sure he hears the teasing in your voice, but you don’t know if the two of you are on the same page about, well, the flirting.

“If yours are all bad, I won’t give you any of mine,” he warns you.

Oh, no, not cookies-related threats!

“Yes you will,” you just say, and Felix sighs.

“Okay, I will, but you should still try to get them right!”

Adorable.

The cookies are good. Felix insists on making you try one of his first, and he feeds it to you carefully, keeping a hand under your mouth so crumbs won’t fall everywhere, which is a really sweet attention.

His are way, way better than yours, but his eyes still light up when he tries the ones you’ve made.

“They’re good!”

“You don’t have to lie to me. I can handle the truth.”

“No, no, I mean it, they’re good! I’ve tried to get the guys to do it, and they, uh, theirs had an interesting taste, but yours are good!”

“That’s because of the secret ingredient.”

His eyebrows rise in confusion, and you have to bite your lip not to laugh. Oh no, this is way too sweet.

“Love,” you deadpan. “I made these cookies with a lot of love.”

There’s a brief, loud laugh, before Felix shakes his head.

“I watched you do them. If anything, they’re embedded with hatred. I’ve never seen anyone crush cookies like that.”

“These cookies were ugly. They deserved to be crushed.”

“No cookies ever deserve to get crushed!”

Yeah. It’s a fun time.

“I’ve snuck out” becomes a familiar sentence that you look forward to hearing. The time you spend with Felix is always so light-hearted and fun and it makes you— Would it be strange to say that it makes you feel optimistic? It brings a smile to your lips, makes you think that the world isn’t all bad and there are good things out there, too.

You get old board games from your dad’s house for when he’s around, and your dad looks at you skeptically, because you never liked board games — you’re too much of a sore loser for that — but he still lets you take them, because they’ve been collecting dust since— Since that, and if they make you happy, well, that’s just as good. You get some cotton candy, which delights him, and the two of you get into the habit of watching old Disney movies at night.

Falling asleep against him is definitely one of your favorite things to do with him.

Yet, the more time you spend with Felix, the bigger the things that separate you get. Like that time you offered to go for a ride in a Ferris wheel, and he quietly said “I can’t see other people”. He sounded so sad that you quickly changed the topic, but it was still there, strange and hanging between the two of you.

Even if that night he reached for your hand, carefully, holding it like it was a delicate porcelain, and laced his fingers with yours.

The more time you spend with Felix, the longer the time without him gets. There’s a part of you that thinks it isn’t healthy, how much you rely on him for happiness, but the truth is that, well, you can’t stop. You can’t reject that little bit of joy you get when you’re with him, or you’ll truly have nothing.

And the more time you spend with Felix, the more obvious it gets how little you know about him. The more glaring all the topics you avoid talking about become. You’ve gotten vague descriptions about what he does for a living (“I’m a helper”, he’d said once, and that certainly didn’t reassure him about him not working for some shady operation but also, hey, to each their own), he’s never mentioned his family outside of “the guys”, and, most importantly, you never know when you’ll see him again.

Every time he leaves, every single time, you think that this could very well be the last time. You think that you would have no way of getting in touch with him, if you wanted to see him again, and the thought of him never coming back becomes sadder and sadder. Maybe it would be better to rip the band-aid off — but you can’t.

You start trying to find other things. You visit your sister a few times, and she seems delighted, as does your niece. Her wife welcomes you with open arms, too, as she always does. You invite your brother over as well, and things are more strained with him, because he doesn’t like talking much, so you end up playing board games with him, since you have them laying around now, and you remember why you were such a sore loser when you have to watch him celebrate when he crushes you at some stupid game, which was all based on luck any way because if this was about skills you would have fucking destroyed him and— Ahem.

But even that brings you back to Felix, to how happy he looks when he wins, and to how sorry for you he gets afterwards. When you won, he pouted a lot, and then he wrapped his arms around you while you were both on the couch, trying to pick a movie. “I need comforting,” he’d said, and warmth had spread through your entire body.

You even shyly get back in touch with some of your old friends. It’s hard at first, but it comes back to you surprisingly easily. You’re taken aback to hear that they missed you, and it’s— Well. It makes you want to try a little harder, maybe. Because it’s— nice, to have friends. You suppose.

Would be nicer if you could introduce them to Felix. But it’s a start.

You don’t even jump when there’s a knock against your window. You’ve gotten used to it. Felix sometimes takes the stairs or the elevator — usually the stairs, because he doesn’t want to risk running into one of your neighbors — but your stairs seem to remain his favorite way of coming into your apartment.

“I snuck out!” is the first thing he tells you, with the brightest of smiles. You know at this point, he also does it because you like to hear him say it.

“I thought you might,” you smile, opening the window wide for him. He puts a hand on your shoulders as he jumps through, and uses it to give you a quick hug. You’re not usually big on those kind of demonstrations of affection, but you don’t mind them with Felix. You’d swear the hug lasts longer than necessary, but you’re not complaining.

The two of you have been slowly… shifting, you’d say, as far as friendships go. You’re definitely friends, that’s not the problem, it’s just that you’re also friends that flirt, a lot. Friends that hold hands, friends that frequently kiss each other on the cheek, and friends whose heart rushes suddenly at all that proximity.

Okay, that one’s just you. You’re not sure that things are the same for Felix. You’re not complaining about that, either. You’ve quite— enjoyed the feelings that have been developing, lately. You’re being careful with them, not wanting to get hurt, but so far everything’s just been nice. You know you’re taking a risk, a gamble, on that one. You’re also willing to do it.

“So what are we doing?” he asks, letting go of you, leaving you to feel cold. “Disney movie?”

Oh, right. Stuff. You’re supposed to be doing stuff.

“Actually,” you say, “I’ve made a chocolate cake, and I wanted you to try it first.”

His eyes sparkle with immediate interest.

“Tell me more.”

You laugh, then get to your kitchen, where you’ve left it to cool off a little.

“So the thing is, the inside of that one should be melted chocolate, if I’ve done it right,” you explain. “The thing is you have to put in chocolate in the middle, and then when you cook it, it melts.”

You couldn’t have seen yourself discussing that stuff with a guy you were interested in just a few years ago, and even less so them listening, but Felix is giving you his undivided attention. Which is… quite a nice feeling.

You cut him a slice, and it seems to have worked, but you’re still nervous when he takes the first bite. You watch him, knowing that he’ll be completely incapable of hiding how he feels about it, but he looks up at you, clearly pleasantly surprised, and you release a long breath.

“It’s good! Really sweet, but… No, no, don’t worry! I like sweet!”

“Ah, I’m so glad you like it,” you sigh. “I’ve been so worried about it. I mean, I’ve gotten better, but baking is still not my thing.” His eyes glint with pride and fondness when you say that. Because he knows he’s the one who made you do this — and also because you did it for him. You may not realize how much that means to him, but he’s more than aware. Truly, you have no way of knowing how much he appreciates everything you’ve done for him — the kind words, the gentle touches, the aggressive appreciation — since he first met you. But they’re all things he’ll never forget.

“Okay, then let’s grab that,” you continue, unaware of what he’s thinking about in that moment, “and let’s watch, uh, what do you want to watch?”

It doesn’t really matter to you, and the truth is, you’re not sure it matters much to him either. What you’re watching is less important than who you’re watching with.

When he sits down, you throw your legs over his lap, and he glares at you a second, before his eyes focus back on the screen. Maybe his hands linger on your thighs, in that position. Maybe he takes one of your hands in his and rubs circles over your skin with his thumb. And it’s all light and pleasant and it feels good, in a way where there is just enough of that delightful tension between the two of you.

What matters is that, when he leaves, he promises he’ll be back soon, and he’s standing a little too close to you, and he playfully takes your hand to leave a kiss on it, as though he were a knight courting a princess. But his lips are soft on your skin, and the contact electrifies you in a way that is completely new for you, with him. There’s an interrogation in his eyes when he pulls away, as if he was wondering if it was okay.

“I can’t wait for you to be back,” you say.

It is more than okay.

When he leaves, your heart is beating so fast a little laugh escapes your lips as you sit down, waiting the giddy feeling inside you to calm down. And it does, only to start again when you think of Felix. You let out another quiet laugh.

Damn. You really had to fall in love with a guy who won’t even tell you where he lives, huh?

One of your favorite things about being around Felix is that you’ve gotten to a point where you don’t need to be doing anything. Like today. The two of you baked together — brownies this time — and then you ended up on your couch, somehow. You’d grabbed a book, and him one of the graphic novels you had lying around, and comfortable silence had fallen on you.

You’re not sure how you ended up in the position you’re in when he calls your name, with you sprawled on top of him, one of his arms wrapped over your upper chest area, right under your neck. Either way, you find yourself rolling around to look at him, which makes him laugh, before it’s obviously a whole ordeal, and the laugher quiets down when it’s done and you both realize that you’re just completely lying on top of him.

Your eyes drop to his lips. You’ve… been thinking about his lips a lot, lately. And it’s completely natural to you, long awaited in fact, when you prop yourself up on an elbow, and you kiss him softly.

His eyes are closed before your lips meet, and there’s a discreet, content sigh that escapes him when they do. It starts off slow, sweet, delicate. Just lips touching, moving against each other like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. One of his hands moves up to cup your face, and your fists tighten around his shirt. His tongue brushes against your lips and you tilt your head to make it easier. The sound of his mouth on yours fills the room, and the warmth you’re always feeling around him spreads through your entire body.

In that moment, there’s nothing but him. His lips, his tongue, one of his hands on your face, the other closing on your hip. You feel a low grunt forming in his throat as he pulls you a little closer to him, almost greedily, and for a second the kiss is much less sweet, much more intense. It’s a side of him you haven’t seen yet, pressing against you, fingers tilting your head up towards him as his mouth hungrily demands more, which you’re happily willing to give to him. You let out a soft moan, shift on top of him, and—

And that’s when he moves away. He keeps his forehead against yours, and his hands remain where they were. He’s panting, you can feel his breath on your face, but he keeps his eyes closed for a moment. The hand on your waist squeezes, just a second.

Before he lets it fall to the side.

“I’m sorry,” he says. His voice echoes through you. “I need to— I have to go.”

Ice cold spills onto your heart, and you scramble to get off of him.

“Oh,” you say. “Yeah. Sure. Of course.”

You avoid looking at him as you get up from the couch, clearing your throat awkwardly. You miss the lost way his eyes follow you, the genuinely conflicted look in his eyes. You miss the moment when he raises a hand as if to stop you from leaving when you’re moving away, opens his mouth to say something, and then how his eyes dim and he dejectedly closes his mouth.

You escort him to the door, and the two of you stand there in an awkward, painful silent for a while. Such a far cry from the first time he came into the apartment. Felix keeps taking a deep breath as if to start speaking, and then stopping himself, and your eyes are resolutely focused on his feet, refusing to look at him.

“I’ll… Uh…”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Yeah, we should do that.”

When he calls your name, voice small and quiet, though, you have no choice but to look at him.

There’s so much sadness in his eyes. You can tell he’s fighting with himself, but also that he’s already made his choice.

And that choice is not you.

Still, when his hand comes to cup your face, and he starts leaning forward, eyes questioning yours, you do nothing to stop him. The kiss is just as soft as the first one, but this time it’s laced with infinite sadness, and there’s nothing you can do about that. You wish you could. You wish you could bring as much as happiness to Felix as he does to you.

But that’s not who you are.

“I’ll try to be back soon,” he promises you, and you know he means it from the desperate look in his eyes. It’s also plain to see that he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to do it. Whatever it is he does out there, it must be important to him, and it would be easier if he just told you. If he gave you an explanation — any explanation.

You wait as the silence hangs between the two of you, but Felix bites the inside of his cheek, and takes a step back.

“I’ll be back soon,” he repeats, trying to sound assured.

You give him a smile. Even as he’s leaving and your heart is in shambles, seeing him and knowing you’ve had the chance to have him in your life makes you feel so lucky that you just have to. How ungrateful of you it would be not to. Even if it is making you this sad that you can’t keep him.

You’re not really surprised when time stretches on without you seeing Felix again. It’s sad, but really, life without him is just— normal. There are a few improvements he brought with him, directly or indirectly. The fact that you sometimes bake, the new recipe you use for cookies, your sister’s more frequent calls, and the fact that you’re talking to your old friends again.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him — just like he was lying when he told you he’d be back soon — but you’ve gotten very good at not thinking of the people you miss.

Sometimes though, something reminds you of them, and pain explodes in your chest.

So you suppose you should consider yourself lucky that you don’t have enough memories with him that there isn’t much to remind you of him.

Liar.

That’s the saddest thing of all.

It’s the end of October when you get an offer from your high school friends to meet up in a café, which takes you by surprise. Only a few of them are in town, and it’s only for a small reunion — grabbing a drink, spending a couple of hours together — but you accept it hesitantly.

And it turns out to be fun. You don’t speak much, which some comment on, because you used to have an opinion on everything. You throw a few quips here and there, and they laugh. Used to it. Used to it because they used to know you.

Maybe you haven’t changed as much as you’d thought. Maybe the world’s kept turning, and maybe you aren’t as broken as you’d felt.

You’re thinking of that, hands buried in your pockets, when you walk home, and that’s where you see him, standing in front of your building.

A blonde boy, a blonde man, dressed in white, leaning against a fence. He’s gazing up at the sky, a thoughtful look on his face. You can see smoke hanging in the cold air when he breathes.

When he turns around and sees you, he smiles, soft and — you think — genuinely happy.

“Hey,” you say, approaching him. “I’m sorry, I was out with friends. Have you been waiting here for long?”

Felix shakes his head, and though his lips are barely curved up, there’s so much warmth and affection in his eyes that you want to drown into them.

“Don’t worry. That’s on me, isn’t it?”

You blink. There’s something self-deprecative in his tone that you don’t like. It’s not like he’s wrong — he’s always showing up without a warning, and the only reason why that worked so far is because you were never doing anything outside of work — but also it’s always been fine. You don’t want him to look negatively at what the two of you had, whatever that was. That would… That would break your heart for good.

“Did you have fun?”

“I— did, actually. I had a really good time.”

Felix nods as if he expected you to say that, new resolve in his eye.

“Want to go for a walk?” he offers.

“Not afraid someone will see you?” you try to tease, but his shoulders fall a little at that.

“They probably won’t notice me,” he says, which is quite a strange thing to say. You can’t imagine not noticing Felix. Not when he looks like that.

“Sure, then,” you shrug.

And when you start walking with him, you grab his hand. He glances down, and a brief smile flashes on his face. A bright one, too, that reaches his eyes. It’s gone in a second, though, but he doesn’t let go of your hand. Instead, he carefully guides it to his pocket, where he keeps his fingers tightly wrapped around yours.

It’s sweet.

“So,” he says, “those friends. You’re going to see them again?”

“I’m not sure,” you admit. “A lot of them aren’t around often. They’ve added me to their group chat, though, so I can at least— know how they’re doing, you know? Keep an eye on them, even if I don’t really participate, because ugh, talking to people.”

“Maybe they’d like to know how you’re doing, too.”

“I’m always doing the same,” you chuckle.

It’s strange, he thinks, how your words echo his thoughts. He also doesn’t see why you’d want to keep an eye on him. He’s always doing the same. Has been for— a long time. A long, long time.

“It’s good if you have them, though,” he says, not letting himself get too caught up in that. He can’t. He’s here for a reason, and a good one, too.

He’s already let himself get carried away too much.

“Yeah. It’s quite nice.”

At least he knows you have people looking after you. That should make things easier.

It doesn’t.

“So, I— The guys have noticed that I was sneaking out and I— I don’t know if I’m going to be able to keep doing that.”

He’s such a coward.

“Yeah, you do.”

Your voice is quiet. The truth is, you know a break-up when you see one coming. Not that Felix and you were something that was worth having a break-up over, but still. You can tell when someone is trying to be nice. Or, maybe, in Felix’s case, trying not to face reality head on.

He drops your hand and stops. The two of you are now in the park where you’d seen him, over a year ago now.

He looks so sad.

“I’m sorry,” he says. You know he means it.

You take him in. His cheeks, turned red from the cold, his blonde hair, like a halo around him, his freckles that you never got the chance to count. His lips that you’ve thought of more than you’d like to admit, recently. And his black eyes, the window to his soul, with a whirlwind of emotions swirling in them. You don’t try to read them. You’re sure you know them all too well.

“You still won’t tell me why?”

You’re not trying to make this more difficult for him. You just think you deserve to know.

But unsurprisingly, he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I wish— I wish I could—” He stops himself. It wouldn’t be fair to continue. To tell you ‘You’re someone I want to see every day’. ‘I never want to leave your side’. It’s probably better if he doesn’t say it.

Just like, no matter how bad he wants to, it’s probably better if he doesn’t kiss you again.

“Well, those things happen, don’t they?” you shrug.

You don’t know why you’re so calm about it. You probably shouldn’t be, but it’s not like you’re wrong. People come into your life, and then one day they’re gone.

Especially those you love the most.

“At least we had a good time,” you say. You’re trying hard to smile. You don’t think you are.

You hope you won’t start crying until he’s gone.

“I’m sorry,” Felix repeats.

He takes a step towards and gently, gently, he presses a kiss to your forehead.

Then he walks by you, and though you’re telling yourself not to, you turn around to watch him go. If this is the last time you see him, because you’ll have no way of finding him again, you don’t want to lose a second of him.

It’s for the best, you tell yourself when he disappears.

The tears, they just mean you cared.

All in all, you do a decent job of not thinking about Felix, you’d say. You’ve had practice.

But when December rolls around, after you’ve burned through November mostly unharmed, it becomes harder. The closer Christmas gets, the more you think of him. You keep out of the apartment, where you saw him the most, and you try your best to distract yourself.

On the 24th though, when you’re walking home from the store, having bought enough chocolates to get yourself through this godawful night, you’re feeling a little gloomy. It’s late at night, and it started snowing a couple hours ago. That reminds you of him, but also it’s quite pretty, so you’re not complaining.

Your mom would have loved it.

She would have loved Felix, too, and that thought brings you some comfort. Almost enough that when you round the corner, you’re telling yourself that maybe you won’t be too miserable tonight. The street is empty, because everyone in their right mind is already home, probably to their loved ones, hopefully having a good time. You don’t dislike it, though.

Until the fucking van appears, materializes, right in front of a building, and you stop dead in your tracks, unable to believe it. Seven guys jump out of the back, one of them shouting something to the driver — Minho, your mind supplies, immediately going back to what Felix had told you. Your eyes immediately focus on the one you know. Felix is checking with the others, looking to see what they do, eyes wide. His blonde hair fall down to his chin, and you think that he has barely changed since you first met him. He flashes a brief smile to one of the guys, who pats him on the shoulders as he walks by him, but the smile dims uncharacteristically fast, and it’s all gone when the guys run into the building.

All sorts of emotions are rushing through you. The main one, though, is what the fuck?

Not because of the van, not because of the teleportation, but because, come on, the least he could do is not be around. That’s just not fair. He doesn’t get to— to stop visiting you for no reason, after kissing you — okay, that one’s mostly on you, but he initiated the second kiss —, and to never give you any way of contacting him or even of knowing he’s alive, and then to still be dilly-dallying around your town, where you risk seeing him.

Except, well, of course he gets to. Just because it makes you sad isn’t a reason for him to essentially stop existing in the same town as you.

Still, there’s something that feels quite unfair in seeing him right now. Like twisting a knife in a wound.

You don’t think much when you cross the street to take a closer look at the van. You make sure not to be seen by the guy at the front — good-looking, from what you can tell, even with the annoyed pout he’s sporting, and wearing a Santa hat, which, really, what is it with these guys? — and glance inside, since they’ve left the back doors wide open.

And what you see confuses you even more.

Inside, there is a huge pile of Christmas presents, all perfectly wrapped up, red, green, or decorated with pictures of red-nosed deers, complete with big golden ribbons. It raises almost to the ceiling of the van, and it makes you think of one of these movies where kids end up at the North Pole and inside Santa’s workshop.

Which is a ridiculous thought to be having… right?

You feel the presence behind you before you hear the deep laugh. You start turning around, about ready to finally punch someone, because people have been testing you, as of late, but before you can do that, you feel hands against your shoulder blades, pushing you inside the van. You shriek, try to catch yourself, but despite that, you fall, face first, into the heap of presents.

Minho jumps from his seat at the sound, and rushes to the back of the van. He curses when he finds some presents that have fallen off. Shit. The guys will be hearing about that when they get back. He throws them inside without consideration, then glances left and right into the street. They’re not supposed to be seen, or rather, not noticed, and that could have gotten someone’s attention.

But the street is completely desert, and he nods to himself before going back to his seat.

You gasp when you fall out of the pile of presents and let out a number of well-chosen curses. But when you turn around, ready to give that asshole with the creepy laugh an earful, you’re faced with the pile of presents you just got out of.

Except. Well. It’s way, way bigger. The one you saw in the van was about your height, you’d say. This one— This one, you can’t tell.

And you’re not inside the van. Or in your street.

You try to look around, to gauge what the situation is, and you’re faced with— more piles of presents. In fact, as far as you can see, in every direction, there are big piles of gifts. In the middle, a small path, for just one person, twists and turns. Far above you, as though coming through invisible speakers, plays a distant Christmas music.

This has officially gotten too weird for you to panic.

At this point, the most logical explanation is that you’re dreaming. You don’t think you are, but, well, what else could it be? None of this makes sense.

Still clutching your bag full of boxes of chocolate in your hand, you start carefully walking down the path.

“Um, hello? Is someone there?”

No answer.

Okay.

You take a few more steps, telling yourself you’d at least see what’s behind the curve. You can’t say you’re surprised when it’s just more presents, but that doesn’t stop your breath from quickening, despite your attempts at keeping yourself calm. Panicking won’t solve anything. There has to be a way out. The path has to leave somewhere. You’re not going to stay lost here forever. You’ll probably just— wake up. Even if you don’t remember falling asleep.

You keep walking, almost physically unable to stop yourself, and a trembling breath escapes you when all you see is, well. Still more presents.

It’s fine. You’ll be— You’ll be fine.

You’re trying to keep things under control, to focus on something else other than your thoughts, which are not helping, when you grab one of them. The label immediately gets your attention. It’s filled with elegant writing, and it reads… ‘Enough courage to make it through the next year’.

Huh.

This actually makes you pause. You know it’s only going to be a temporary distraction, but as your breathing goes back to normal, you check another one. This one says ‘happiness at dinner’. The next one, ‘a really bright smile’, the one after ‘a beautiful dream’, then ‘a lost picture of a loved one’, then ‘a happy memory of one’s mother’.

This last one has your heart missing a beat, and you think you’ll risk opening it, when you hear laughter, making you jump.

“Alright, guys,” a voice says, “we’re done with this place. Everyone here?”

A chorus of voices answer, as you try to figure out where they’re coming from. But among them, there is one deep one that you would identify immediately in the middle of a crowd.

“Can we do the presents now?” a lighter, higher voice asks.

“We need to finish the night first,” the first voice sighs, immediately met by protests.

“C’mon, Chan,” the person whines. “You know we almost always get things that make it easier. Remember when Jeongin got ‘lightning speed for the night’, a couple of years ago?”

“We’re not doing it, Han. If we’d waited last year, we could have found Felix—”

“I told you I’d be careful this year,” Felix’s deep voice says, though with an edge of annoyance that you’re not used to, coming from him. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

“Well, maybe, but…”

“Ah, come on, just let them open it! They’re going to be insufferable otherwise!”

That’s a new voice. You’re starting to enjoy the drama of it all.

“Alright, get to it,” Chan sighs. “Han, you wanna— You went for it already. Great.”

There’s an aspiration sound somewhere next to you and you whip your head, just in time to see some presents fall down. One of them rolls down to your feet.

Okay. So something did leave this place. A huge weight falls off your chest. You’re not sure how it works, but the knowledge that there’s a way out certainly does wonder for you.

“’The energy not to fall asleep until the end of the night’. Very funny, Santa,” Han comments, somewhere above you. Or next to you. You’re not sure.

“You know how it works,” Chan says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “It gives you what you need most. Who’s next?”

Later, you’d wonder why you didn’t think of calling out to them. Maybe it was just because, in that moment, you didn’t feel alone. So, instead, you listen as Changbin gets ‘stronger muscles’, whatever that means, Hyunjin gets ‘the ability not to get dirtied in chimneys’ (which makes Changbin protest ‘but why does he need that?’) and Seungmin ‘the confidence to speak to children’.

“Does that mean we’re going to get caught again tonight?” he asks cautiously.

“Probably,” Chan answers. “Felix, you want a go?”

There’s a moment of silence, and you find yourself holding your breath. You can almost picture him. You imagine his slight pout, his sad eyes, you see him hesitating.

“Sure,” he finally says.

You hear a ruffle close by. Closer than anything before. You barely think before you basically drop into the pile of presents, trying to figure a way out.

That’s when a small hand you’ve held in yours many times before grabs your wrist.

And pulls.

Before you know it, you’re falling forward again, going through the presents, and then suddenly you’re tumbling into Felix’s arms. You hear yourself gasp for air, and you can only grab onto his shoulders not to fall. His eyes go wide, but instinctively, one of his arms wraps around your waist, supporting you. His mouth hangs open, his pupils searching yours desperately, as though he wasn’t sure whether or not you were real. You expect him to let go of you immediately, but he doesn’t. Instead, he brings you closer, right into him, and closes his eyes. You can feel his hair tickling your cheek.

He’s mumbling stuff by your ear. You recognize “I missed you”, “I’m sorry”, “Don’t go”, and the rest is a blur.

Despite the admittedly incredibly weird circumstances, being in his arms feels like coming home.

“Erm,” someone says behind you, “What’s going on here?”

You feel Felix flinch at the question.

Claws out, then.

“I’d like to know that too,” you say, turning your head to glare at the group of six guys, all dressed in red, as though it was a uniform of some kind. “Starting with which one of you assholes pushed me into the presents.”

That’s not like you to say, at least not to strangers, but you’re not really in your usual state. You don’t think anyone would be right now, considering everything.

“Well, at least she’s nice,” Han says.

That’s when Felix lets go of you, and you stumble away from him — but not too far, because one of his hands keeps hold of your wrist. His grip is strong, even a little too much, and you’re the one who removes his hand, gently, to take it in yours instead.

“That has to be Santa, right?” Felix asks, squeezing your hand for comfort. “That sounds like a thing he would do.”

Santa. Sure. That actually sounds weirdly reasonable, with everything that’s happened so far.

“So if it’s Santa,” Felix keeps going, with an unfamiliar fragility in his voice, “that means he’s not— mad at me, right? It’s fine that I’ve been… You know. Seeing her.”

“You’ve been sneaking out because of a girl!” Han gasps.

You don’t have to look to know Felix is blushing, and the guys’ teasing smiles do nothing to make it better. But one of them is chuckling softly.

“Chan? It’s fine, right?” Felix asks him, and you know Chan is the one whose opinion will matter most to Felix. If he dares to answer him no, you’ll be kicking someone’s ass.

“Yeah, Felix. I’m sure it’s fine.”

You feel Felix’s body relax completely next to you, and then he wraps both arms around you, his chest pressed against your back, and he buries his face in your neck.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispers. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Same here, but, uh—”

“You must have a lot of questions,” Chan says.

You look him over carefully. He has a kind face, but unlike the others, there is something serious about his demeanor. Something solemn. It makes him a little intimidating, actually, and you can see why Felix cared about him, but you think he’s the one you’d be most cautious around. Despite that, you nod. It is more than time for you to get your answers.

“Damn right I do.”

“Alright. I’ll explain.”

“So, long story short, you guys are helpers for the various holidays and other, uh, supernatural kids’ stuff. Eastern bunny, tooth fairy… Sandman, maybe?”

“Wow, Chan,” Seungmin snaps from the corner where he’s been sitting for the last half-hour, clearly bored out of his mind, “it’s almost like you could have just said that instead of going on about the history of Santa’s workshops for hours.”

Chan rolls his eyes at him. You didn’t mind the long-winded explanation, personally, you could appreciate the lore. You did feel a bit weird about how he told you they could pinpoint humans at any time. ‘To check their behavior,’ he’d said when you’d complained that looked like a gross invasion of privacy. That had not helped. But at least, when you’d asked Felix about whether he’d done that, he’d promised it had just been to make sure you were okay. And, well, you couldn’t be too mad about that.

“You’re elves,” you conclude, not just because Santa seems to be their direct superior, but also because, if you’ve understood everything correctly, they’re… more or less immortal. In a Lost Boys kind of way, not in a vampire way, but still. Kind of immortal.

“Yes,” Han answers, while Chan replies “Absolutely not.”

Then they start bickering — ‘Dude, we’re basically elves’, ‘You’ve met elves, how can you even say that?’ — and you watch, amused, as others start joining — ‘Santa should have gotten me the ability to not hear you anymore’, ‘To be fair, you’re at least as old as the elves now, Chan’. You could get annoyed, but you’re feeling calm right now. Comfortable.

That probably has a lot to do with the fact that you’re sitting in Felix’s lap. He hasn’t let go of you since you were, well, gifted to him, you suppose. He remained quiet for most of Chan’s explanations, putting his head on your shoulder, playing with your hands. He hasn’t said much, only added a few discreet comments here and there, but you think there is a lot that can wait until the two of you are alone.

He still looks sad, and you don’t know what to do about it. You hate that he’s so sad. You’d do anything to change it.

“We work for Santa,” he explains, voice low, when the others don’t stop arguing. You can feel the vibrations of his voice going through you. “We all— had reasons to want, er, out, basically. So he took us in and we— help where we can.” He looks up at you. Thoughtful, almost contemplative. “But people aren’t supposed to know about us. Kids are fine. Adults… There are stories about some of us just disappearing, when they were noticed by too many people. For individuals, we usually erase their memories.”

“But you didn’t erase mine.”

“If I did, you wouldn’t have remembered me,” he mumbles, bashfully looking away from you. “I know I should have, but—”

“Oh, I would be so pissed at you if you tried to erase my memories.”

That finally makes him crack a smile.

You’ve missed his smile so much.

“Yeah?”

“Ha, I’d like to see you try. I can be a real contrarian when I want to be.”

Now he’s fully grinning, with that wide grin of his that shows his teeth. And you kinda really want to kiss him.

“Uh, it’s not that you guys aren’t cute, but…”

Felix quickly moves away, awkwardly clearing his throat, a blush spreading on his cheeks. You’re a lot more shameless, and instead you glare at Chan, who just seems amused by the situation.

“…we need to talk about what we do now.”

Felix’s arms tighten around you, and you put your hand on his, trying to reassure him. No one’s taking you away from him. You wouldn’t let them.

“What do you mean what we do now? This is fine, right?”

“It’s fine, Felix, it’s just…” Chan gets a little closer. “This— We are supposed to be… You know. Temporary. And maybe it’s time for you to… Go back.” Then he looks at you. “If you’re alright with it.”

You understand what he means immediately. You’re not quite sure how long Felix has been there, with them, but you’ve grasped that he doesn’t really have anything to go back to. Except now, he has you.

“I mean, normally I wouldn’t move in with a boyfriend who I haven’t seen in two months, but I suppose I could make an exception. For extenuating circumstances.”

There’s a moment of silence, and you’d swear you hear Felix repeat ‘Boyfriend’ under his breath, as if to test it out, before he looks between you and Chan.

“I don’t want to leave you guys. I don’t know how to— The world is kinda— Terrifying.”

“But you won’t be facing it alone,” Chan says, voice soft. And then it takes a threatening edge when he looks at you and says, “Right?” which you take to mean ‘If you hurt him the world will not be big enough for you to hide and I will find you no matter where you go’.

“Right,” you nod.

It may not be usual, but there are few things you’ve been as sure about in your life.

“Felix, you’ve been miserable recently. Don’t you think—?”

“Maybe you’re right,” Felix finally says.

He looks at you, and you see him slowly take his decision as he stares into your eyes.

“Yeah. You’re right.”

Goodbyes are tearful. There are many promises of visiting and seeing each other soon, of not forgetting each other, of doing well. There’s also a promise of delivering identity papers, ‘because Santa will handle it’, which makes them sound like they’re in the mafia, again, but you don’t comment on it.

You almost say that maybe Felix should stay, when he cries hugging Chan. You hold back, though, because you know it wasn’t an easy decision for him to make, and you don’t want to question him. Not at this point. You know you would be doing it to make yourself feel less guilty, and you don’t think it would make things easier for Felix in any way.

“Hey,” a voice says next to you, someone you think is Changbin. “Here’s your gift.”

You recognize, immediately, the gift you were holding in that strange place, with all the presents. ‘A happy memory of one’s mother’.

“Thanks,” you say. Your voice barely manages to come out, and you can feel yourself choking up a little. “I, uh… Can I— Can I share that? Or give it to someone else?”

Changbin raises an eyebrow.

“I mean, sure. You just need to put it onto someone’s gift and it will… Get to them when they open the real one.”

You nod. You think your brother might need that more than you do right now.

“Take care of ‘Lix, okay?” Changbin asks.

It makes you smile. You’re sure all of them want to tell you the same thing, and you’re not surprised he’s the one who actually came forward with it. You don’t hesitate to answer him. You want nothing more than to take care of Felix.

“It will go both ways, I’m sure, but I’ll do my best.”

“Figures, with ‘Lix,” he grins fondly. “We just— we want him to be happy, you know?”

You sigh, looking at Felix. Everyone is surrounding him now, goodbyes taking much longer than they should. You think maybe making it last only hurts more, but you don’t say anything, because…

“I know.”

When Felix finally joins you, the two of you watch and wave as the van leaves. It vanished a few meters away from you, in this strange, red flash you’ve already witnessed once before. The street goes back to being quiet, and it’s just you and him, standing under the snow. The streetlights are your only companions, and there’s nothing to break the moment when you look at him, only to find him already staring at you.

“No regrets?” you ask, despite yourself. “I’m sure we can call them if—”

“No regrets,” he answers. He sounds certain. A little sad, perhaps, but certain. “I think… It probably had to be done.”

“Wanna go home now, then?”

He smiles at you.

“Home,” he repeats. “Heh.” And then, quieter, “I’m happy to be spending Christmas with you, this year.”

You think about it for a second. Today still has a different feel from what it used to be, back when you’d celebrate with your mother. It’s not as light, as joyful, as loudly happy as it was then. But for the first time in years, there’s something special in the air. It might not be your mom’s Christmas, but this could just be yours.

“Me too,” you answer.

Felix kisses you under the snow, and it’s Christmas indeed.

“Merry Christmas! Now where is my favorite niece?”

You laugh when the first thing Felix does, as you walk into your sister’s house, is call out for your sister’s daughter. She comes out, screaming in delight, and the first thing she does is throw herself into his arms. He lifts her up easily. Over the last year, he’s easily become her favorite uncle, much to your brother’s dismay. You told him not to be upset because he was no match for Felix — which, surprisingly, upset him even more, and you’re pretty sure the two of them are now on the verge of an all out war for the title of ‘best uncle’.

Your sister and her wife come out to greet you, and you feel emotion bubble in your chest when you see the light swell of your sister’s belly. Her wife was the one who’d carried your niece, and you knew they’d started the procedures for another kid recently. You couldn’t be happier for them.

“It’s so good to see you,” your sister says, hugging you tightly. “So happy you could make it for Christmas this year!”

Well, you have Felix to thank for that. With him, you feel like you can take on anything — even Christmas. Plus, he loves Christmas, and you want to give him… The world.

It’s been an interesting year. Complicated, sometimes, happy, for most of it. Lots of time spent in each other’s arms, learning everything there was to know about him. Finding out which kisses he loved most, and how to make him the happiest. Finding out what angered him or what hurt him, too, often unintentionally. It had rocked your world, truly, to start living with someone else full time, but it was worth it, and being convinced of that made everything bearable.

Felix had gotten a job through a mysterious ‘Santa network’ that he swore up and down was nothing like a mafia, and was starting to look to pick up studying again. He occasionally disappeared to go help his friends (‘volunteering’, he called it), and there were a few times where the whole gang reunited at your place — yours and Felix’s, now — for a drink. Which was fun.

And, of course, your family had welcomed him as well. Your sister and her wife had opened their arms to him immediately, without even thinking about it, just because he was who you’d chosen. Your brother had needed a little longer to be won over, and your father was still a work in progress.

But even he’d told you that your mother would have loved Felix, last time you’d visited, and you couldn’t think of a higher compliment, coming from him.

“Are you excited for Santa this year?” Felix asks your niece, who rolls her eyes.

“I know Santa isn’t real,” she pouts. “I’m a big girl now.”

“Oh, he’s very real. I’ve met him.”

“He’s real and a bully,” you add, and this time it’s Felix who rolls his eyes at you.

“What, do you have regrets about Santa’s intervention?” he asks you, sounded almost offended.

“None whatsoever,” you promise, kissing him on the cheek. “But I maintain that he could have found a kinder way to get us together.”

It’s obvious that your niece think you’re both pulling her leg and making up stuff on the spot. You don’t blame her for that. She’s a smart kid, after all.

Sure, it’s all true, but it also makes no sense, so that’s fine.

It’s late at night when you hear noise in the living-room. Your niece has gone to bed a long time ago, and though your sister has insisted she wasn’t tired, she’s obviously on the verge of falling asleep, too. Your sister-in-law has had a few glasses of wine, and you can tell that she’s also quite tired. They both seem to barely notice it — but you and Felix exchange a knowing glance.

“I’ll go take a look at what that is,” he says.

“I’m coming with you,” you immediately follow, getting up from your chair as well.

“Don’t spook Santa!’ your sister-in-law laughs. “I think it’s time for the two of us to get ourselves to bed,” she adds with a yawn.

You have no intention of spooking Santa.

But it’s not him in the living room, it’s seven clumsy guys that really, really shouldn’t have all gotten inside this house all together. Then again, you know Bang Chan probably tried to stop them, and they were uncontainable.

They all freeze when you and Felix open the door, and relax when they recognize you. Hyunjin shakes his head disapprovingly at you.

Maybe you did spook Santa a little, after all.

“Everything okay, guys?” you ask them, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

“We just wanted to come hand-deliver your presents,” Chan explains. He’s grinning too, and his dimples are showing. “And maybe check on you guys a little.”

Your smile widens when you tell them that you have presents for them — you and Felix decided to take them to your sister’s house, expecting that something like this would happen. So you find yourself sitting down with seven not-Christmas-elves and one former not-Christmas-elf, sharing presents, laughing in silence so you won’t wake up anyone, knowing that in the morning, you’ll have Felix by your side and you’ll be watching your niece open her gifts.

It may not feel like a traditional one, but it feels like one of your Christmases. And as Felix smiles widely at you, so bright he lights up the whole room, you know you wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.

[fangirlovestuff]

Flung Out of Space - Natasha Romanoff x reader

a/n - hey lovely people!! merry christmas to all that celebrate it:)) so, i’ve been wanting to write this fic for a while and i’m really glad i got to, this is heavily inspired by the movie Carol, which is basically a gay christmas movie. i love it, and so i’ve cast natasha in the role of carol and reader in the role of therese and sort of rolled from there. i hope you enjoy<3

summary: You’ve been waiting for something bigger than this job at the departement store, maybe being a photographer. That something big comes to you in the form of one stunning Natasha Romanoff, who understand you better than you understand yourself. You’ll both never be the same.

word count: 8k

warnings: implied smut, mentions of a gun (no one uses it), angst, responsible alcohol consumption, mentions of divorce, mentions of homophobia, language. all of the men in this story are trash, it’s nothing personal. 

disclaimer: i think this reads well even if you haven’t watched the movie, but if you’re intending to watch it, maybe wait with this fic since it contains the majot plot points:) also, i left a couple of characters like they are in the movie, and some are marvel characters i “cast”, so if you don’t know a name it’s probably from the movie. also also, i did use the plot of the movie and some direct quotes, with some changes, but still - stuff from the movie are obviously not mine and i don’t claim them to be.

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You almost thought she wouldn't show up. That it was all some sort of joke, or dream. Sitting alone at that table, you were starting to beat yourself up again, because how could you be so stupid again, and why, for once in your life could you not say no to any-

But there she was. There she was, in that light grey coat that brought out her sharp, bright blue eyes, red hat resting on top of neat red hair. Put together.

There was something utterly enchanting about her. There always has been, since that very first day you met her. You couldn't look away.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a normal day until she came in.

It's not like you expected a job at a big department store to be interesting. You took it because it was just a job to bring in some money, so you wouldn't have to depend on Ri- on anyone. Maybe if they decided to give you a holiday bonus you could get a proper camera, better than the old one you have now.

See, being a photographer would be interesting. But who would ever let you do it? no one. You're not even good.

So, it wasn't often you were interested in your work. You were barely ever fully in the moment, lost in your own head more often than not. That's why it took you by surprise to notice the woman's presence from all the way across the store. That was the first reason you knew she was special.

You locked eyes with her from across the room, and for a moment, your thoughts vanished, every fiber of your being focused solely on her. The first thought you regained was why is everyone else not looking? How can they not be this captivated?

The second one was that obviously, they weren't doing so because it's rude to stare. Like you were doing right now.

Hurriedly, you lowered your eyes, swallowing dryly.

Thankfully, a customer came up to ring up her purchase, and then another mother with her little girl asked where the bathroom was, and you've nearly forgotten all about the lady, your thoughts taking over again, until she was standing right in front of you.

"Hello," she smiled at you, reading out your name from your name tag. It sounded prettier than ever falling easily from her lips.

"Hi," you replied, rattling off the automatic response, "happy holidays, how may I assist you?"

"Well," the woman said, "I'm looking for this doll, hold on," she took out a note from her bag and slid it to you over the counter. It had the name of a doll you knew was out of stock, which is what you told her.

"Oh, what a shame. My daughter wanted it for so badly," she furrowed her brows slightly, still sending you a small smile. "Oh well. Tell me, when you were a little girl, what did you wish for as a Christmas present?"

"A train set," you answered, your lack of hesitation taking you by surprise. It was true, but you were surprised you'd said it this readily.

The woman chuckled warmly. "Well then, I'll take the train set."

"No problem ma'am, we can have it delivered to you just in time for Christmas if you want, our new fast shipping takes about three business days," you informed her with a smile.

"Thank you, you're a real saint."

You took down her shipping address, credit card number, and the exact train model. "And your name, ma'am?"

"Natasha Romanoff," she answered.

"Alright. Here's your receipt, and that train set should be there in a few days' time," you smiled. Your fingers brushed hers as you grabbed the piece of paper from her hand.

She smiled back and thanked you once more before leaving the store. She had such an elegant way to her, dignified and yet humorous and kind. Like you wished you were.

Looking down, you noticed her glove was left there. You looked up to call after her, but she was already gone, and you couldn't leave the register. Looking down again, a plan was formed in your mind. You did have her shipping address, after all, so it would be the kind thing to do, spread the holiday spirit a little.

You kept wondering if she'd gotten the glove, or if her daughter will like the train set. But it’s not like these questions will be answered.

You were pondering it once more when you heard your name being called.

"Phone call for you," your manager called out, and you signaled one of your coworkers to take your place at the register as you stepped up to the phone.

"Hello?"

"It's Natasha, Natasha Romanoff. I just wanted to thank you, for the glove and the train set. I'm sure when Rindy's going to open it, she'll love it. How can I repay you?"

"Oh, it's nothing, Ms. Romanoff," you tried to fight the grin off your face. You didn't even know why you were smiling.

"No, really. Tell you what, I'm in town again this noon, so how about we meet for lunch? My treat."

"Well, that's so kind of you, Ms. Romanoff, but I-"

"Call me Natasha. Please." You thought you heard the trace of a smile in her voice.

"Natasha. I have a very short lunch break, and I wouldn't want to inconvenience you in terms of your schedule-"

"Oh, nonsense. Do you have a pen and paper to write the name of the restaurant? It's called Viognier"

You were smiling now, "Viognier?"

"It's French," she answered with a smile. "Are you writing down the address?"

You wrote down the name and address she gave you.

"Thank you, M- Natasha," you corrected.

"Of course. I look forward to seeing you," she said, and you hung up the phone and got back to work, thoughts racing at full speed.

She was so puzzling, Natasha Romanoff. You wondered if lunch would help you figure her out better.

As it turns out, it didn't.

Natasha was talking to the waiter, but you couldn’t focus on what she was saying, looking at her lipstick-red lips instead.

"And for you, ma'am?" the waiter asked.

"Oh," you skimmed the menu quickly, "um, I'll just have whatever she's having."

"The dish or the drink, ma'am?"

"Both," you smiled shyly at Natasha, who only returned your smile warmly.

"I hope your daughter would like the gift," you started hesitantly.

"Yeah, I'm sure Rindy will like it," Natasha smiled, taking out a cigarette case from her purse. "Would you like one?" she extended it to you.

"Oh, no, thank you."

She lit the cigarette between her lips, puffing out the smoke. You've never liked smokers much, but a part of you itched to take a photograph of her smoke-shrouded face. The other part ached to uncover her face from behind the smoke.

Both parts thought she was beautiful.

And you're staring again.

You cleared your throat. "So how old is she? Rindy?"

"Six," Natasha smiled, her gaze fixed somewhere behind you before focusing back on you. "She's staying with her father until tomorrow, then spending Christmas with me."

"Her father?" you asked, puzzled, before you could realize what you're saying. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to pry-"

"It’s alright," she chuckled, that enchanting twinkle of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Bucky, well, James. My husband, for now. We're getting a divorce."

"Oh." You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but you had no idea what.

"What about you," Natasha took mercy on you, "Anyone special?"

"Well, there's Richard, my, uh, my boyfriend. He's trying to convince me to go to France with him. I think he'd like my hand in marriage." The words came easily, without a thought. Sitting in front of Natasha, everything else faded away, including the noise of your thoughts.

"And would you like to marry him?" she inquired with a curious smile.

"Well. I can't even decide what to order for lunch," you answered simply, smiling.

Your smile got wider when she let out a small laugh at your words. What a wonderous sound.

"What a stranger girl you are." And when she said your name again, it sounded even better than the last time.

"Why do you say that?"

"Flung out of space," she answered softly.

Maybe it was a jab at you for having your head in the clouds. Or maybe it meant something else you didn't understand. It wasn't hard to believe she knew something you didn't. In fact, if she'd told you she knew everything, you'd believe her.

"Here's your plate ma'am."

Oh, right. You were sitting at a restaurant, waiting for your food. That's where you are.

"You know, you're probably quite the city girl," Natasha said, scooping up a piece of her food on her fork, blowing on it softly before wrapping her lips around it and taking the bite.

She's waiting for you to reply.

"Oh, well. I actually prefer the country," you shrugged. That's why Richard's been trying to get me to go to the French countryside, you wanted to say. But talking about Richard felt wrong. "I live in the city because it's more comfortable," you said instead, taking a bite out of your own plate. It was delicious.

"Really? Well in that case, you should really come by my house sometime," she smiled at you, her blue eyes seemingly the brightest source of light in the dim restaurant. "I live not far out into the country. Besides, I probably wouldn't know how to assemble that train set myself anyway."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So you're going away with her, but not with me? You don't even know her!"

"Yes," you answered, fighting to keep your cool as you pushed a couple of shirts into the small suitcase. Yes was your go-to answer. It only sucked sometimes.

"Are you serious right now? I've been trying to get you to come with me for months and now you're just taking a trip with this total stranger?"

"it's not- I owe her a favor."

"Oh really? I don't think that's true. You don't even know her long enough to owe her shit!" Richard yelled. "What, you have some sort of sick crush on this woman?"

"No!" you yelled back, finally breaking, "please, just stop yelling about this!"

"You're the one yelling about this!" he didn't lower his voice. "Tell you what, if you are seriously walking out of this door right now with this fucking suitcase we're done. Done, you hear me?"

"Bye Richard," you mumbled, stuffing the last few items in your suitcase and closing it.

"Really? We've been together for years and you're gonna throw that away just like that for this total stranger?"

You can't talk to me like that, Richard! You wanted to scream, you've never really loved me, you don't even respect me! You don't even support me!

"Yes," you answered instead, your voice a mere whisper.

He left.

You locked the apartment door behind you and went down the stairs, getting into Natasha's car and greeting her with a smile.

"Ready to go?" she asked.

"Sure am," you smiled.

You were driving around in silence for a while. It was fine. It gave you space to think about Richard. Yes, he's never truly loved you. But really, have you ever loved him?

"What are you thinking about?" Natasha asked.

"Nothing," you shrugged, "just… nothing."

"Okay. By the way, could we stop and get a tree on the way? If it doesn't bother you. I promised Rindy I'd get one."

"Of course," you smiled, "no problem at all."

It took only a little while longer for you to get to the tree farm. Natasha parked the car and got out to buy a tree, telling you she'd be just a moment.

In the windy December air, strands of her red hair flew across her face. She reached to tuck them away, only for them to do the same moments later.

You couldn't resist the urge now, taking your camera out from your bag and adjusting it to snap a few photos of her. Only a couple, so you won't finish the film. After all, you never got any holiday bonus.

You had to put the tree inside the car, its trunk in the backseat, and its branches and leaves a barrier between you.

"Did you take a picture of me?" she asked, "When I got the tree?"

Her face was hidden behind the greenery, but she didn't sound angry.

"I- I'm sorry, I should've asked you first."

"It's alright," she chuckled, and you relaxed a little into your seat. "You should show me these once you develop them. You like taking photos?"

"I do," you answered bashfully.

Natasha only hummed in response.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mommy!"

The happy cry of the little girl was the first thing that reached your ears once you opened the door at Natasha's house.

"My princess!" Natasha picked Rindy in her arms and spun her around, "look what we brought you!" Natasha balanced Rindy on her hip with one hand and pointed at the car with the other.

"A Christmas tree!" she yelled gleefully, "thank you mommy!"

"Of course, pumpkin," Natasha smiled at her daughter, "I promised I'd get you one. You want to help decorate it later?"

"Can I be in charge of decorating, and you'll help me?"

"Why of course, I should've suggested that from the start!" she pressed her finger into Rindy's side, tickling her, and the girl laughed. "C'mon, let's go inside and eat first."

Natasha was so strong. Not only physically, even though you're sure it was an effort lifting up the girl like that. But little Rindy had dark hair, presumably like her father's. she wasn't just Natasha's. And yet Natasha didn't care, and loved her more than anything, and that was apparent. Loving so loudly must require undeniable strength.

That afternoon Natasha and Rindy worked on the tree, and you mostly sat and watched them from afar, brought them tea as well. Rindy did have a lot of her mother in her after all, her confident posture and charming blue eyes. It was heartwarming, to see them like this. It was a togetherness you never really got, bittersweet domesticity like you've never known, never been a part of, always an observer.

That night, after Rindy had gone to bed, you were sitting at the piano in the living room, mindlessly playing an old song you learned long ago, the only one you still remembered. Natasha had been sitting on the floor, no shoes on, her stocking-clad legs tucked beneath her as she sipped on a glass of one. She offered you one, but you refused politely. You didn't feel like you need it.

You jumped at the touch of warm hands on your shoulders. So immersed in your thoughts, you didn't notice Natasha creeping up on you.

"It's beautiful," she said softly, looking straight into your eyes, straight into your soul, it seemed.

"I- thank you. It's just an old song."

Before Natasha could reply there was a loud knock at the door.

"Who could it be at such an hour?" she wondered out loud, a small crease forming between her eyebrows. She went to open the door, and you only dared to peek at the entrance from behind the wall.  

"Bucky? What are you doing he-"

"Where's Rindy?" the man asked, pushing past Natasha and making his way inside. You ducked back behind the wall, but you'd seen him – tall, broad, with dark hair like Rindy's. and the name – Bucky, didn't leave you any doubt as to who it was.

"Asleep in her bed," Natasha answered, and the sound of footsteps ceased, "What's going on?"

"She's coming with me to her grandmother," he answered.

"Right now? But Bucky, we agreed she'd be here Christmas morning and then go to your parents', and she's not packed, and for god's sake, she's asleep!"

You didn't know Natasha for a long time, but you had the sense she's not a woman who folds a lot. But right now, she sounded on the edge of desperate.

"Yeah, but she should come with me, sh- who is that?"

You didn't notice them come closer, and you were still standing with your back to the wall when they came into the living room.

"Bucky, listen, this isn't wh-"

"No, this is exactly what I think it is, isn't it? Well, you're not doing that with my daughter in your house. Not anymore!" he started storming upstairs, Natasha only sparing you a frantic glance before following him.

"Bucky, I swear to you, she just-"

You couldn't make out their argument from upstairs, so you sat at the piano stool and waited. You waited until they came down the stairs, Rindy in the man's hands. In Bucky's hands. When Natasha held her, she looked strong. When he did, he looked menacing. Too big for this small child.

They went outside, and once more you couldn't decipher what was going on, but Natasha was the only one that came back in, tears shining in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said shakily, blinking her tears away, and going to her bag, taking out the cigarette packet and pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. "Just when you think it can't get any worse, you run out of cigarettes," she sighed. "There's a train back to the city in a couple of hours. I'll give you a ride to the station."

That car ride was silent all throughout, a mumbled "thanks for the ride" from you the only goodbye said.

By the time you were home again, it was after 2 am already. And yet, your floor's phone was ringing.

"Hello?" you answered in a whisper.

And even over the phone, you loved it when she said your name. "I just wanted to apologize again, and see you got home safe."

"Yeah, I'm home," you whispered back.

"Good. Can I come by tomorrow? I'll bring a better apology with me. Promise."

"Okay," you answered hesitantly, "but Natasha, I wanna know. I think. I mean, I wanna ask you things. But I'm not sure that you want that."

"Ask me things," she whispered her reply, her voice breaking, "please."

"Okay. Goodnight Natasha," you whispered.

"Goodnight."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was finally Christmas. You spent the morning roaming the streets, the shops. You still had a bit of money saved from Richard's gift that you wouldn't be buying, so maybe you'd spend it on something for yourself. Not enough for a camera, but enough for a record or two, maybe.

You entered the record store, flipping through the different genres aimlessly, until you found what you were looking for, even though you didn't know you were.

It was the record with the song you'd played to her on the piano. You didn't know if it was a present to you or to her yet, but you asked the cashier to wrap it.

In the early afternoon there was a knock at your door. You opened it to reveal Natasha, suitcase in tow, put together once more. She was as beautiful as always, but there was a different sort of beauty to her when she unraveled, hair down, strong and on the edge of desperate. You almost weirdly missed it, even if the circumstances when you'd seen her like that weren't… great.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," she smiled.

"Not at all. Come on in," you gestured with a small smile.

"So. You got any photographs in here?" she asked, and maybe you actually liked the teasing glint in her eyes the best.

"Well, not the ones I took of you, but I do have some. Hold on," you went to a small cabinet in your kitchen, reaching to the back of it to pull out your stack of treasured photographs, the ones you liked the most so you kept.

You couldn't help but examine Natasha's face as closely as she was examining the photos. Seeing every twitch of her lips, every quirk of an eyebrow. "These are great," she complimented once she was done. "Is that what you want to be? A photographer?"

"I think so," you answered. "If I have any talent for it."

"Isn't that something other people let you know you have? All you can do is keep working. Use what feels right. Throw away the rest."

You could only nod at her words, not knowing what to say until she spoke up again.

"Now I'm glad I bought it."

"Huh?"

"Your gift. Come on," she led you to where she had left her suitcase. "Close your eyes," she winked, and you did, grinning as you listened to the sound of the zipper opening.

"Now… open them," she instructed gently.

In front of you, on top of the suitcase, was a camera. A real, good, new camera.

"I- Natasha, thank you so much, I don't even know… I mean, I couldn't possibly-"

"Nonsense," she dismissed, "it's a thank you for the glove and an apology, so just do me a favor and accept it."

"I- thank you," you repeated softly, still stunned.

"You're welcome, dear. Now, can I smoke in here?"

"There's a smoke detector. We could go on the roof," you suggested.

"Good. Lead the way," she gestured.

You led her onto your apartment building's roof, and watched as she leaned on the railing, lighting a cigarette. She sighed the smoke out through her red lips. "I'm going away for a while," she said.

Your brows furrowed on their own, and you spoke before you could think. "When? Where?"

"Wherever my car will take me." She took another puff of the cigarette and exhaled. "West. Soon. Bucky has Rindy for at least a month. He's lawyered up, with the divorce, and-" she sighed, "he won't let me see her for a few months."

A heavy silence settled between you. "And, I thought, perhaps, you might want to come with me," she continued. "Would you?

You didn't really think about it, but you knew that this time, it was right to say it. "Yes. Yes, I would."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You've never been on a road trip before.

Natasha and you stopped at a diner at the side of the road to have an early supper.

"Oh, I got you something too," you remembered. You considered giving it to her when you were packing, but it didn't feel like the right moment. You took out the wrapped record and extended it to her. "Open it."

"Oh, you shouldn't have," she smiled. You reached for your camera. "God, don't," she chuckled once she saw it, "I look a mess." She reached to smooth down her hair and you giggled.

"Come on, open it," you encouraged, "I'll get your reaction. It's good practice."

She huffed out another laugh and tore through the wrapping paper, and her face lit up when she saw the record. You took a picture, but you weren't sure if even the most advanced camera could've captured her lips with quite the same effect as seeing them in person.

"It has the song I played. On the piano," you explained bashfully.

"It's wonderful. Thank you," she smiled.

"Merry Christmas," you replied softly.

"Merry Christmas," she repeated.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next week or so were spent driving. Lots and lots of driving. And stopping at a different motel every night.

At first you were hesitant, but you found it hard to stay that way in Natasha's company. She was always so assured, eloquent, regal almost in the way she carried herself. It was still a little odd to you that wherever she walked, not every singly person turned in her direction, gravitated towards her. Wasn't it the most natural thing in the world to do?

"Here, try this lipstick on," she said, giving you a red lipstick that seemed a shade darker than the one she was usually wearing. Although right now, she wasn't wearing any makeup, and you were both sitting on the carpeted floor of the motel you were in, the second night of the trip.

You applied it carefully and smacked your lips exaggeratedly a couple of times, making Natasha laugh. Her laugh was just as captivating as the rest of her.

"Now mascara," she extended another tube to you and took the lipstick back, your fingers brushing in the process. It inevitably happened a lot in the last few days, with you being around each other all the time. You liked it.

When you finished, she handed you a mirror, and you gaped at the woman staring back at you.

"You look great!" Natasha laughed at your stunned expression. "Beautiful," she murmured softly as you continued to look in the mirror.

The next day you were driving. Again.

"Are you thinking about Richard?" she asked.

"No," you answered. "I haven't thought about him all day. Or of home, really. Not yesterday either. Not the day before that. We're not… together anymore."

"Oh."

You talked on the road a lot. Sometimes you'd tell her funny stories about clients at the department store. She told you about her daughter a lot. You knew she loved her, her emotions apparent to you in the way her eyes lit up and her red lips quirked upwards just slightly.

You thought sometimes she looked at you like that, but it was probably just a trick of the light.

The fourth night you got into another motel. Again.

The woman at reception greeted you warmly and explained about their available rooms at Natasha's request.

"Our standard rooms come equipped with stereophonic console radios, or we do have the Presidential Suite available for a very attractive rate," she said.

"Two standard rooms should be fine then," Natasha took out her wallet to pay.

"Why not take the Presidential Suite?" you asked suddenly, surprising yourself. And Natasha as well, apparently, as she turned to look at you with that amused expression of hers. "I mean, if the rate's attractive," you shrugged.

"Sure. You're right, the rate is attractive," Natasha smiled, "We'll take it."

You didn't take separate rooms anymore. The endless hours on the roads, although seeming to you as fleeting moments, as not enough time, had brought you closer.

The fifth night, she was taking a shower and you had just come back into the room.

"Is that you?" she asked, and once you confirmed, continued, "can you fetch me my blue sweater? It's in my suitcase."

"Sure, hold on."

You opened her suitcase and started rummaging through it, trying not to leave a lot of mess. You found the sweater, but when you took it out, a glint caught your attention. You moved the clothes to uncover a small gun.

"Hey, you alright?" she called out.

"Yep, found it," you answered, hastily covering the gun again.

The next day you knew you had to say something.

"Do you feel safe?" you asked her. "With me?"

She only let out a baffled chuckle.

"If you weren't feeling safe, you would tell me," you continued, "right?"

"I mean yes. I guess so," she smiled. Even though she didn't take her eyes off of the road, you could see that familiar glint of amusement in them, and everything was okay.

You had a glass of wine with her the sixth night, giggling together about nothing and everything, and going to sleep with a pleasant feeling bubbling in your stomach. You took some pictures that night, like you did every day. Of her.

The next day was New Year's Eve.

You'd gotten a bottle of champagne from room service, and it wasn't that cold. This was a motel after all. So you went to the icebox to grab some ice.

Struggling a little, fumbling with the cold, you were grateful when a man came up next to you.

"Need help with that?" he smiled.

"Um, thank you," you said, somewhat awkwardly, as he got you the ice.

"Thanks, again. Goodnight," you smiled at him when he was done.

"You're welcome. Happy new year!" he smiled back.

You went back to the room, putting the champagne in the ice until it cooled. You sat at the vanity, which was the only table in the small room, and poured two glasses, extending one to Natasha, who was standing behind you.

"Happy new year," she smiled, raising her glass.

"Happy new year," you echoed, clinking your glass against hers, then taking a small sip, Natasha doing the same.

You turned back to face the mirror and she sighed. "Bucky and I never spend New Year's Eve together. Always a business function. Always clients to entertain."

"Well," you replied, "I always spend New Year's alone. In crowds." Looking into her eyes through the mirror, you added, "I'm not alone this year."

"Yeah," she murmured as you turned your head to look at her, tilting it up.

You were drowning, without your thoughts but with so many feelings you thought you would suffocate, and it never felt like that with Richard, how could it? he was never her.

If you wouldn't have closed the distance you thought you could have died. There was no other choice but to breath. Natural, undeniable.

Kissing Natasha was like fresh air, but also knocked the air out of your lungs, and also it was new and exciting but also achingly familiar as you drowned in the smell of her, stronger than you ever got to sense it, drowned in her lips, which you spent hours familiarizing yourself with from afar.

You ended up on a bed, and she was kissing along your neck, murmuring into your collarbones, "My angel. Flung out of space."

And you finally understood. You understood, and your entire body was thrumming with anticipation and with yes. And this was the most beautiful your name has ever sounded, you were now certain, falling from her lips like this. You knew now what it meant to be on the good edge of desperate and you've never loved anything more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Good morning," you whispered as the first rays of sun burst through the window, caressing Natasha's arm. Her skin was smooth and milky and finally familiar.

"Morning," she smiled sleepily.

"I'll get up, see if I can get us some breakfast and if there's any mail maybe. Be back in a bit."

"Okay," she sighed, her eyes still closed.

Breakfast was only served in a designated room, but you did get two coffees, and, surprisingly, one letter addressed to Natasha.

Also surprisingly, she was up and dressed when you came back, and had almost finished packing your suitcases back up. Not that you unpacked much in the first place.

You handed her a coffee, made the way you knew she took it, with a smile. She took a grateful sip and sent you a bright smile.

"There was a letter for you," you said, handing it to her and taking her place putting her clothes back in her suitcase as she opened it.

Her face was growing darker by the second though, and by the time she was done reading you had already hastily finished packing, now tensely focused on her face.

"My suitcase," she said curtly, her jaw locking. "I need- where's my suitcase?"

"It's right here," you answered, showing her. "Natasha, what happened?"

"Where is it," she mumbled, opening her suitcase and moving the clothes around in a frenzy.

"What's going on?" you asked again, your worry increasing, and increasing even more when she found what she was apparently looking for. The gun.

"Natasha, please, tell me what's wrong!"

But it was to no avail. You followed her as she went out of the room and let herself into the neighboring room, where the man who helped you with the ice last night was.

As was equipment. Lots of wires and electrical parts, connected inside the suitcase. And to the wall his room shared with yours.

"Where's the tape?" Natasha asked, pointing the gun at the man, her eyes filling with tears. Was it rage? Sadness? What did the letter even say?

The man raised his arms from where he was rolling up some wires. "Whoa, let's calm down and-"

"Where's the tape, bastard?" Natasha repeated, cocking the gun. "How much did he give you for it? I'd give you more."

"I'm sorry ma'am, but I don't have it. I sent it already. I get paid to be good at my job."

"You sick-" she breathed heavily, "how could you do this?"

"As I said, I get paid to be good at my job. Your husband paid me to get this tape and get it to him as soon as possible, and I did. Nothing personal."

She stared at him for a few more tense moments as you processed what he just said, processed what the device was, what tape she was talking about.

This was all your fault. She could lose Rindy over this. And all because you were stupid enough to say yes.

Then, Natasha sighed shakily, lowering the gun and storming out. She put it back in the suitcase, and wordlessly, you helped her get the suitcases into the car. And you drove off.

"We're going to Chicago," she said.

You didn't answer, still looking out of your window.

"What are you thinking? You know how many times a day I ask you that?" Natasha asked sternly.

"Sorry," you sighed. "What am I thinking? I'm thinking that I'm utterly selfish."

"Don't do this. You had no idea. How could you have known?"

"I should have said no to you, but I never say no," you continued, tears filling your eyes. "And it's selfish because... because I just take everything, and I don't even know anything. And I don't even know what I want. How could I when all I ever do is say yes to everything?"

You couldn't stifle your sobs anymore, turning your head even further towards the window and breathing rapidly, trying to compose yourself as quickly as possible. You weren't even the one that should be falling apart right now. If anyone had the right to do so, it's her.

Natasha abruptly stopped at the side of the road. She turned to you, and gently reached out and tilted your face towards her.

"Listen to me," she said softly, and you looked into her eyes. It was a force of nature that drew you to always look at her, stronger than you. "I took what you gave willingly. It's not your fault. Okay?"

You swallowed around the lump in your throat, only managing to nod as your answer. It was enough for Natasha, who went back to driving.

You got to Chicago that evening. You would've marveled at the large city and its lights if it were any other day.

"Ah, a real bed," Natasha sighed, plopping down on one of the beds in your room.

Not answering, you sat down on the other and took off your shoes.

"You don't have to, you know," she whispered. "Sleep in the other bed."

You got up and made your way to her outstretched arms, not even changing your clothes. Just being engulfed by her was almost overwhelming again, and with everything that happened that day and the night before, you fell asleep in no time, her comforting smell the last thing you registered.

When you woke up, the smell was but a faint trace. Natasha was gone, and there was another woman sitting on the chair in the room where you put your suitcases yesterday, where Natasha's suitcase was now gone.

The woman had blue eyes and reddish-brown hair, nowhere near as bright as your Natasha.

"Is she gone?" you asked, your voice a mere whisper.

"We should have breakfast," she answered instead, "I'll let you get ready."

"Wait," you called out, louder than was necessary, the sound of your voice grating even on your own ears. It was easier with Natasha. Talking. "Who are you?" you asked.

"Wanda Maximoff," the woman answered. "Now come on, we don't have all day."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Down at breakfast, you were sitting across from Wanda and sipping your coffee silently, your uneaten food seemingly staring back at you.

"Eat," Wanda instructed, "We have a long drive."

"Why do you hate me?"

"Who told you that?" she said, sounding annoyed. "If I hated you, do you think I'd be here to drive you home?"

"You're doing that for Natasha, not for me," you mumbled.

Wanda just sighed, telling you to eat again and taking a bite of her own food. You took a bite of yours but couldn't leave it alone.

"You love her, don't you?"

"Look, what Natasha and I have had… it's very different. We go way back," she looked up at you, the ghost of a sad smile on her lips. Not as pretty as your Natasha. "We were best friends, and then we were more than that for a little bit. When we both needed it. And we're still best friends. I've known her since we were both very young."

You nodded at her words, taking a few more bites of your food while she rummaged around her purse.

"There you go," she extended you an envelope. It carried the same faint trace of Natasha's perfume just like the sheets in the morning, and it made your stomach churn. "She left this for you."

"Okay," you whispered, swallowing and nodding weakly.

"If you're done, we should get going."

You only opened the envelope when you were securely in the backseat of Wanda's car, her eyes occupied on the road.

You couldn't resist the urge to take a hesitant sniff of it. Because it smelled like her. Then, you could stall no longer, and you opened it and started reading, your eyes filling with more and more tears with every line.

Dearest,

There are no accidents, and he would have found us one way or another. Everything comes full circle. Be grateful it was sooner rather than later.

You'll think it harsh of me to say so, but no explanation I offer will satisfy you. Please don't be angry when I tell you that you seek resolutions and explanations because you are young. But you will understand this one day. And when it happens, I want you to imagine me there to greet you, our lives stretched out ahead of us, a perpetual sunrise.

But until then, there must be no contact between us. I have much to do, and you, my darling, even more. Please believe that I would do anything to see you happy. So, I do the only thing I can... I release you.

-N

And before you knew it tears were streaming down your face because it was all so painfully unfair. Because you knew that maybe there was some truth to her words. Because you knew she needed to fight for her daughter, and you by her side would only hinder her.

Because there was a small, selfish part of you that didn't care, that wanted nothing more than to be by her side, no matter what, to be with her, like a moth drawn to a flame, no rational thought, only feelings so strong you were certain you couldn't feel without her ever again.

You couldn't stifle your sobs anymore, and Wanda heard, pulling over near a patch of grass on the side of the road. You left the letter on the seat and rushed out, running, the sheer force of your crying sending bile up your throat. You heaved over the grass, throwing up what little breakfast you had.

You were panting, breathing uneven, your heart erratically beating in your chest as you fought to control it, when Wanda came up behind you and put a hand on your back.

Without words, you knew what she was saying. You had to continue.

And you did. You continued.

Quit your job at the department store too, since your eyes would stay fixed on the entrance, expecting her to somehow walk in, to have a second chance. It hurt too much.

At first, you thought about getting a similar job in retail, but Natasha's words rang in your ears.

All you can do is keep working. Use what feels right. Throw away the rest.

You got a job as an assistant photographer at the local newspaper.

But other than that, you tried to erase every trace of Natasha from your life, but to no avail. You couldn't bring yourself to throw away the countless photos you had taken of her, nor the letter. They were kept in the back of another cabinet.

And it's not like you could throw the camera away.

So every day, you'd live with her shadow looming over you. You knew you shouldn't, that you should try harder to forget her. But even the shadow of her presence had a certain comfort, and you took what you could get. Even if you'd probably never see her again, you couldn't unsee her, in wisps of red hair, an elegant coat, lipstick red lips. Never her, never as captivating as her, but always undeniable getting your attention for a brief second, daring to hope that maybe- but it never was.

Three months passed like that, without any word from her. Until one day, you were called out of a newspaper meeting, saying there was a letter for you. Surprisingly, you didn't immediately hope it was her, it took you a minute or two as you excused yourself. Maybe you were getting better.

But even more surprisingly, it was from her.

I'm in town, so I thought we could chat if you want. Meet me at the Ritz restaurant, 7 pm. We'll get dinner.  

If you can't come, I'll understand.

-N

You toyed around with the idea of not coming for the rest of the afternoon, but you were fooling no one, least of all yourself.

You left early to go home and get ready and arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early. There was a reservation with Natasha's name. You sat at the table and waited.

And 7 pm passed, and then every minute seemed like forever. She was late. And maybe she wouldn't come at all, and it was all some sort of joke. And maybe you shouldn't have come, shouldn't have dared to hope-

But there she was. Red lipstick, a light grey coat, a hat over her perfectly neat hair. Put together, elegant.

Although now, you knew she looked even better when she wasn't put together, when she was falling apart, or falling asleep. Knowing what she was like when she wasn't put together made it odd to see her like this, made you crave seeing her in her natural state again, made you crave to set her free. But you still wondered how it was possible that no one turned their head to look at her, how can no one see what you see, feel what you feel, your gaze drawn to her the most natural thing in the world.

And before you knew it, one look at her and you were falling again, fast and scary.

Her eyes caught yours from across the room and lit up. She made her way over to you, shedding her coat and putting neatly on the back of her chair before sitting down.

Once again, you were forcefully reminded of how beautiful your name sounded when she said it.

"Hello," she smiled.

"Hello," you echoed hesitantly.

"I'm sorry," she started.

"I know."

"Rindy is with Bucky now."

"I'm sorry," you said genuinely. You imagined how hard that must be on her.

"I get visits. It's for the best," she smiled sadly. "It's settled. So, I have an apartment in the city now," she said. You had nothing to answer now. "Although it is quite too big for only me, I've discovered. I was wondering if you were in search of a new place, or a roommate, but that's…" she chuckled, "I'm guessing you aren't."

You opened your mouth to talk but had nothing to say. Because of course your first instinct was to say yes, always yes when she was the one asking. You've learned to say no to other people, but not to her. You didn't think you were capable of it.

But you shouldn't say yes. Because that would be selfish. So you didn't say anything.

"I love you," she whispered.

And oh, every time she says your name you think it's the most beautiful one, but this is surely it.

But still, wouldn't it be selfish to say it back? Wouldn't it be dangerous to fall so fast with no way back up?

Before you could muster the ability to speak, someone else called your name. Unpleasant and too loud.

"Hey, what's up!" he came up to your table, "Oh, I don't mean to interrupt your diner," he said once he registered Natasha's presence.

"Josh, Natasha Romanoff. Natasha, Josh, a writer for the newspaper I work in," you reluctantly introduced. You watched her as a wistful smile made its way onto her lips. You didn't tell her about the job yet, and she seemed pleased, although not happy.

"Nice to meet you," Josh smiled.

"You too," she nodded her head at him, her smile warm enough now. But it was the artificial warmness of a lamp, dim and incomparable to what it looked like when she was really smiling. A perpetual sunrise.

"Well, I just saw you," Josh turned back to you, "and wondered if you were coming by to Ron's party tonight."

"I am," you nodded. Ron was throwing a birthday party. He was your coworker, it would be rude not to go. Even though you hadn't remembered his party up until right now.

"Well, great! I'm actually going right now, so if you want a ride…"

"Oh, you should get a ride," Natasha said, gathering her gloves and coat.

"Great! I'll bring the car around, so go outside in a few minutes," Josh smiled.

"I'm meeting up with some friends at Viognier later anyway," Natasha explained. "If you get bored of your party, come by. I think you'd like them," she smiled sadly, before getting up and leaving.

And then it was all moving very fast, and you were getting in Josh's car, and going to the party, and wishing Ron a happy birthday, and being numb, so very numb. Like you felt the first time she left. Like life itself became dull, void of color.

The party started picking up, and there were quite a lot of people there, but it didn't matter, all you knew was that you were alone in a crowd once more. And now that you knew the alternative, you couldn't bear it.

You slipped away from the party and took a cab to Viognier.

"Hello," the host greeted you, "Do you have a reservation?"

"No, I- I'm looking for someone," you pushed past him, frantically walking into the restaurant, looking around, and then finally locating her, sitting at a far-off table, slowly making your way towards it.

And finally, it all clicked.

As you saw her, before she noticed you, she was glowing in the dim restaurant light, just like she was that first lunch you had together, and every day you have known her since. And when she did notice you, and your eyes met from across the room, her shine brightened, her smile warm like the sun.

And that's when you knew. You were flung out of space. You didn't belong here on earth, never did. Except when you were in her arms, except when you were with her. Your very own sun, your very own north star. Then, you belonged. You belonged to her, and she to you.

You could never give that up, no matter what either of you had thought.

"Hello," she greeted once you came to the table.

"Hi," you replied bashfully.

And you knew, with absolute certainty, that she could read you like an open book, knew the yes in your eyes, knew what you were really saying when you asked, "may I join you?"

I love you too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

well, again, if you’ve stuck with this till the end - ily. i seemingly can’t write anything short these days lmao, it’s taking me time i don’t have off of studying:,) lol, but it’s worth it. i’ve wanted to write this fic since i’ve first watched the movie last year, so please, feel free to tell me your thoughts!! take care<3

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if you wanna join / be removed from a taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

[ogsherlockholmes]

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates it, and I hope that every celebrating other occasions has a great time too! I have written an abridged version of The Blue Barnacle, written by Arthur Conan Doyle. To people who don’t celebrate Christmas, it’s not extremely Christmassy, so I hope you can enjoy it too. 

On Boxing Day morning, I visited Sherlock Holmes, wishing him a Merry Christmas. He was draped across his sofa, wearing a purple dressing gown, with a row of pipes on his right and a pile of crumpled newspapers (already read) on his left. There was a wooden chair beside him, and on the back of it hung a dirty, hard felt hat. Because of the equipment in front of it, I could tell that Sherlock had put it there to examine it.

  “You are busy,” I said. “Did I interrupt you?”

  “Not at all. I’m happy to discuss my results with you. This is a difficult matter,” He pointed at the hat. “But there are certain areas that might be interesting.”

  I sat in an armchair and warmed my icy hands by the fire. 

  “I suppose,” I remarked. “That even though it looks simple, there could be a story behind it. It could be the clue to the solution of a crime.”

  “No, no. No crime,” said Sherlock Holmes, laughing. “It’s only one of those strange accidents that happen when there are millions of humans all together in a small area. Anything can happen in that area without it being criminal, and we have experienced that.”

  “Yes,” I replied. “Three of the last cases I have written were not illegal.”

  “Precisely. Do you know Peterson, the commissioner [in charge of how the company is handled]?”

  “Yes.”

  “He found that hat.”

  “It doesn't belong to him?”

  “No, the owner is unknown. Now, look at it. It came here on Christmas morning, with a large goose, which I strongly believe is currently being roasted on Peterson’s fire now. At four o’clock yesterday, Peterson was on his way home from a party. In front of him, he saw this strange figure limping, holding a goose on his shoulder. The stranger got in a fight with a group of men. When Peterson tried to help him, the stranger ran off, dropping his hat and goose. The group of men ran off too.”

  “Did Peterson return the goose and the hat?’

  “My dear friend, that’s the problem. There is a tag on the goose, and it has ‘For Mrs Henry Baker’ written on it. But, there are many ‘Henry Bakers’, so it’s difficult to find who it belongs to. Peterson brought the hat and the goose to me, but I gave him the goose today since it wouldn’t be safe to eat for long. The man did not put anything in the newspaper, so the only clues are what I can deduce.”

  “You must be joking, what can you get from that hat?”

  “Well, you know how I figure things out. What can you see?”

  I took the hat from the chair. It was an ordinary black hat with a hard, round shape. The red silk lining had changed colour. There was ‘HB’ written on it, but no other name. It was cracked, dusty, spotted, the elastic was missing, and the owner must have coloured it in to cover the marks. 

  “I can’t see anything,” I said, giving it to him. 

  “Actually, Watson, you can see everything. However, you can not create conclusions from what you see.”

  “Then, please, tell me what you can see.”

  Holmes picked it up and looked at it with his interested gaze that is very natural for him, “The man is quite smart, he was respectful within the last few years, but now he has fallen. This could mean some sort of influence, like drinking. And, obviously, his wife doesn’t love him anymore. He has some self-respect, though. He doesn’t go out much, is middle-aged, has cut his hair within the last few days, and uses lime cream on it. He also has gas laid on.”

  “I have no doubt that I am stupid, but I can’t understand how you found out any of that?”

  “Well, we can understand that the man is smart because of the size of the hat, a man with such a large brain must have something in it. The hat is three years old, and the edges curl at the end. It is very good quality though, look at the lining. If a man could buy a hat like this three years ago but hasn’t been able to fix it, he must be down on his luck. He has covered up some marks, though, so he has some self-respect. We can understand his age, hair type, and hair cream from looking closely at the hat. There are small hairs as well in the hat, meaning he has had it cut recently.”

  “And why does his wife not love him?”

  “Because of the state of the hat, it hasn’t been cleaned. When I look at your hat, Watson, and I can see the dust gathering on it, I worry for your wife’s love for you.”

  “-You shouldn’t be worried. This hat, though, maybe the man wasn’t married?”

  “No, remember the note? The turkey was a peace offering.”

  “This is all very clever,” I said, laughing. “But there is no crime, this all seems like a waste of time.”

  Sherlock was about to reply when Peterson ran through the door.

  “The goose!” he gasped.

  “What about it? Has it flown out the window?” Sherlock turned to look at the man.

  “Look what my wife found in it!” he held out a bright, blue stone. It was quite small, like a bean. 

  “My God, Peterson,” Sherlock sat up. “This is the treasure we have been looking for. You probably don’t know what it is?”

  “A diamond, sir?”

  “More than that.”

  “No, it’s not the Countess of Morcar’s blue carbuncle [a type of jewellery shape]?” I exclaimed. 

  “Exactly. Every advert in The Times is about it. The reward for finding it is a thousand pounds. It was stolen at the Hotel Cosmopolitan. Now we have to find out how it ended up in a goose.”

  Sherlock began writing a note, saying that a goose and a hat were found and that it belonged to Henry Baker. The person must collect it from Baker Street. 

  “Peterson, you can leave now. Please, you should buy a goose to give to this man since your family is now eating his.”

  Both Peterson and I left Sherlock to further investigate the stone. 

  Later on that night, I returned to Baker Street and a man stood outside. We both walked in and Sherlock was sat inside. 

  “Mr Baker, I believe,” Sherlock said, getting up from his seat. “Sit down, both of you. Is this your hat, Mr Baker?”

  “Yes.” Henry Baker matched how Sherlock said he would look. 

  “Don’t worry, we got you another goose,” Sherlock said in response to the man’s worried face. “We still have the remains of the other goose, if you want.”

   Henry Baker laughed, “No, I think I’m fine with the whole goose.”

  “Where did you get that goose? It looked very delicious.”

  “I go to the Alpha Inn, and the host, called Windigate, had a goose club. He gave me the goose.” Henry Baker said goodbye and left. 

  “It is quite obvious that he doesn’t know anything about the carbuncle,” Sherlock remarked. “Are you hungry, Watson?”

  “Not really.”

  “Then we’ll eat dinner at supper and can follow more clues.”

  It was a cold winter’s night, and we walked to the Alpha Inn. Sherlock asked about the geese there, and the man told him that he got them from a salesman in Covent Garden, called Breckinridge. We left the inn to find this man. 

  “We need to be careful, Watson,” Sherlock said as he buttoned up his coat. “Henry Baker might go to prison if we don’t find the guilty person. 

  We arrived at Covent Garden and found Breckinridge. 

  “Good evening, sir,” Sherlock said.

  He nodded and frowned. 

  “You’ve sold out of geese?”

  “Yes.”

  Sherlock continued to talk about the geese, “Where did you get them from?”

  This annoyed the man, “What are you getting at, mister?”

  “I just want to know where you got the geese.”

  “I’m not telling you.”

  “If you won’t tell us then the bet is off,” Sherlock said, talking about a fake bet between us. “I bet a fiver that the geese are from the countryside.”

  “Well, you’ve lost a fiver. They’re from the town.”

  “I don’t believe you. I bet that you’re wrong.”

  The salesman smiled. He brought out a book and showed him where he got it from. 

  “See, I got it from Mrs Oakshott. Read out that line.”

  Sherlock read out, “Mrs Oakshott, 117 Brixton Road-249, egg and poultry supplier, December 22nd, twenty four geese, sold to Mr Windigate.”

  “What do you have to say about that?” the man laughed.

  Sherlock threw a small amount of money on the table, and left as though he was ashamed. When we were out of sight, he laughed quietly to himself. 

  “You can always have a bet with a man like him. Should we go to Mrs Oakshott now?” Sherlock was interrupted by Breckinridge shouting at someone. 

  “I’ve had enough of people asking where my geese are. Get out of here!” He slammed the door shut. 

  “We might not need to go now. Excuse me,” Sherlock said to the man who asked about the geese. “I might be able to help you.”

  “How do you know anything about this?” the man asked, shaking in the cold. 

  “My name is Sherlock Holmes. It is my business to know what other people don’t know.” Sherlock explained to the man what they had been doing that evening.

  “Then you’re the man I’ve been looking for!” exclaimed them man. “My name is John Robinson.”

  “Yes but what is your real name?” Sherlock asked. 

  “Well then, it’s James Ryder.”

  “Yes, you’re the head attendant at Cosmopolitan Hotel. We can talk more about this at Baker Street.”

  We arrived at Baker Street, and Sherlock asked what goose James was looking for, and if it had a black tail. James was shocked, and told him that it was that goose. 

  “It was an amazing goose,” said Sherlock. “There was also a jewel in it as well!”

  Our visitor’s mouth dropped in fear. 

  “Yes, you’ve been found out! You knew about the Countess of Morcar’s carbuncle and you just couldn’t help yourself!” Sherlock pointed his finger at James. “Why don’t you explain what you did next?”

  James was nervous to start, “When I found out that someone else had been arrested for stealing it, I knew I had to hide it. I went to my sister’s house, Mrs Oakshott and she fed geese that were going to be eaten to fatten them up. Because I knew someone who could turn the jewel into money, I had to find a way to get it to him without anyone noticing. I didn’t know how, I couldn’t just put it in my pocket. Then, a goose waddled in front of me. I put the carbuncle in it, but my sister came behind me, so then I lost the goose. My sister let me take that goose home to eat, but when I cut it open, the jewel was gone. I traced back where my sister had sold all her geese. Now, I’ve ended up here. And… oh God, what have I done?”

  He began to cry. 

  “Get out,” Sherlock said, letting the criminal go. 

  “Oh, thank you, thank you!” James Ryder ran out the room.

  “Holmes, why would you do that?” I asked.

  “I do not have to help the police, and taking that man to prison would ruin his life. I can just return the jewel to its owner. Anyway, it is Christmas.”

I hope you enjoyed it! Here’s a copy of the original [https://sherlock-holm.es/stories/pdf/a4/1-sided/blue.pdf]

Have a great day!

[princessfbi]

#It’s the way that I can dissect this scene and the argument we don’t see but hear when Chimney leaves for hours

..... those tags tho, I’d happily read that dissection 👉🏻👈🏻

Oh man! I am more than happy to oblige.

SO... In order to talk about Buck and Maddie's fight during "Merry Ex-Mas" we have to talk about some people we don't like. Namely, Margaret Buckley and Doug Kendall.

Particularly about how Margaret essentially made Maddie into a mother figure for Buck and Doug point out to Maddie that she is in fact, his sister and not his parent.

Margaret and Philip, whether unintentionally or not, relied on Maddie to take care of Buck. They let her handle him; be his parent. A fine example is in Buck Begins after he fell off the bike. Buck calls out for his mother and she goes to him only to pull back when she sees the bike. It’s a rejection in its most complicated form. The bike, for Margaret, is a symbol of grief. But for Buck and Maddie it was a symbol of growth. Of Buck growing up and becoming a big kid. Of moving on.

Margaret allowing the bike, her grief, to be a kind of barrier to her kids essentially drew a wall between them where she was on one side and Buck and Maddie were on the other. Which can be devastatingly isolating for an about five year old. Five being old enough to realize when a cry for comfort has been ignored is also young enough to still be reliant on others. But their parents didn’t just block out Buck. They blocked out Maddie too. They left her with a kid.

So, Maddie took care of Buck. She raised him. She didn’t have a choice which doesn’t cheapen their relationship. It goes back to what I said in my Maddie character analysis. We would not have Buck without Maddie. The emotional neglect that Buck and Maddie went through could have wrecked them as people. Buck could’ve very easily been turned into a toxic masculine person with resentments that rivaled the size of Margaret’s towards her own children. But he didn’t because of Maddie. Because Maddie showed him what it was like to love and be loved in return.

Maddie saved Buck.

But Maddie was also a kid and because of that added responsibility, I don’t think Maddie had any real boundaries when it came to Buck. Anyone who had a hand in raising a sibling knows the feeling of ownership, if you will, over them. There's a very clear sense of agency you get when you had a hand in making someone into the way they are.

It's why Maddie didn't back down from Margaret when she threw out the accusation that she "didn't know what it was like" because Maddie "wasn't a mother yet." It's why Maddie from young age handed out discipline in a sense with her parents in how they spoke about Buck.

"Don't talk to him like that."

Maddie scolds her parents for the way they disrespect Buck and put him down. She calls them out on their complacency when it comes to their relationship with Buck. Maddie sees herself as a parent figure/protector/authority figure (if not the only one) in Buck's life.

Which leads me to Doug. I think Doug was the person who pointed that out. I think Doug was the person who showed Maddie that she needed live for herself just as much as she lived for Buck. I think Doug saw that lightbulb go off for Maddie and used that to manipulate her as well. Doug recognized and “respected” in his own way that Maddie’s relationship with Buck was something of great value in her life. It’s why he didn’t storm in on those nights where she was alone with Buck after he found her. It’s why he didn’t ask her questions about Buck. It’s why he didn’t demand she come home when she told him “I’m with Evan” on the phone in Buck Begins.

Doug recognized in his own way that Buck was a hard line for Maddie.

So, Doug gave Maddie boundaries for Buck and hoped that would bring her over to his side. And neither Buck or Maddie realized it because they were so used to emotional neglect/manipulation (which is a form of abuse) that they didn't even blink because in their minds', they still had each other.

By Maddie’s own admission, the only thing of value she had at the time, was her relationship with Buck and Doug knew that. So, rather than take it away, he pushed himself in between them as a way to put distance between them.

Boundaries with one another was something completely foreign to Buck because his own idea of a "boundary" was the extreme with his parents: to be shut out completely which Buck would then internalize as being his fault. So, Buck resents Doug not for giving Maddie boundaries with Buck but for not letting Buck be a part of creating those boundaries. He sees it as a way of being shut out again.

Let's take into consideration what Buck said in Buck Begins when he asked to go live with Maddie and Doug.

"It's Doug, isn't it? He hates me."

Buck recognized Doug as another wall in his life and the resentment Buck had wasn't aimed at Maddie but at Doug. He had complete faith that Maddie wasn't shutting him out because she didn't love him anymore. It was because he thought Doug never loved him to begin with. And it's at this point that I think Buck saw the similarities with Maddie in himself. After Maddie left, Buck found himself in the middle between his parents and her. Buck recognized that Maddie was now in the middle between Doug and himself. That's why he didn't confront her in the hospital about Maddie pretending everything was hunky dory. But Buck recognized, before Maddie did, that Doug was the one putting her in the middle.

"You don't have to pretend with me, all right? I know things aren't okay with Doug."

It wasn't until a new beginning, an opportunity for them to escape from their sadness that Buck finally addressed that distance and the reasoning behind it.

Let's skip back to "Merry Ex-Mas" now.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"So, you hate Christmas now. Something else I can thank Doug for, huh?"

This is something I think a lot of people who have been on the sounding board end of a loved one going through a break up where the loved one is still defending the ex can recognize. I think Buck expected a clean break because that's the way Maddie was presenting it. Because Maddie had no problems cutting off everyone else in her life such as her parents, her friends, and to an extent Buck in a very clean, compartmentalized process. So, to Buck this seemed like it should've been the same.

But it wasn't. Because Maddie's relationship with Doug was complicated and she didn't fully cut herself of from him (or at least, didn't stop making excuse for him which is an internalized form of victim blaming) until that moment in the car during "Fight or Flight".

Let's take a look though at the real meat of this argument.

"You can't come into my house, Buck, and act this way."

"'Come into my house?' I'm your brother. Typical old Maddie."

Here's the real kicker.

"Typical old Maddie."

Remember how I said that Buck doesn't resent Maddie, he resents Doug?

Here's what I think we sometimes forget because we, as the audience, view the show as a whole. We, the viewers, know the extent of the trauma Doug put Maddie through but Buck doesn't. All Buck sees is that his sister isn't acting like herself and the only reason he has for that is whatever happened with Doug. Buck doesn't know everything Doug put Maddie through because Maddie has been shielding him from it.

Remember in Buck Begins when Omar tried to get Maddie to tell Buck about what happened?

"Evan can never know."

Even with the events of Buck Begins, Buck is still learning the extent of the abuse Maddie suffered from Doug. He knew Doug beat Maddie and he knew it was pretty bad to the point that he almost killed her. But he didn't know until Chimney told him that the reason Maddie didn't leave with him was because Doug beat her brutally for picking a side; Buck's side. It's one thing to know the broad picture but an entirely different thing to know the details.

Because at some point along the way, Maddie's boundary with Buck became a protective shield for Buck. Maddie may have been in the middle between Doug and Buck but Maddie had put herself over the line in the sand beside Buck once again and neither Buck or Doug realized it.

Maddie doesn't want to explain to Buck why she doesn't want to celebrate Christmas because it's a painful truth for herself but for Buck as well. It's opening up that protective bubble and letting the risk of Buck and herself being hurt again. So, she's shutting down again which is something she'd done before to keep Buck out of that messy part of her life. Except, because Buck thinks Maddie has had this clean break from her life with Doug, he pushes her a little.

"Come on, you love Christmas."

And Maddie lashes out.

"And easy to lash out on the person that you know is always gonna forgive you."

It's a panic response, a knee jerk reaction, because she doesn't want to go through the painful process of unpacking that especially not with Buck because she was still continuing to shield him from it all. She lashed out because, subconsciously at least, she knew it would deflect him from it.

"Typical old Maddie."

And it worked.

[superfreakerz]

TDDUP 31

AN: Idk  who’s still active considering I haven’t uploaded this story in almost 2 years but hopefully someone will enjoy it! :)

Chapter 31

Under the Mistletoe

Natsu grinned to himself as he tacked the decoration just underneath the door frame to the bedroom. With its white berries, beautiful green leaves, and the red ribbon tied around the stems, he was sure it was going to bring a smile to Lucy’s face when she saw it. And if she somehow missed it, then he was more than happy to point it out to her since it meant stealing a kiss from her.

“Natsu? What’s that?” Lucy’s voice called out.

Turning around to face the girl, he gave her a grin. Grabbing her hand, he quickly pulled her close to him. 

“Look up,” he said, planting his hands on her hips.

Lucy glanced up, her eyes landing on the mistletoe that hung over them. Her lips curled into a small smile, her cheeks tinted pink having been caught off-guard. 

“Mistletoe? Where’d you get that?” she asked with a laugh.

“Borrowed it from Cana,” he answered, peering down at her with a toothy grin. “In her words, it was going to ‘get me laid.’ Figured I would test her theory out. So? Whatcha think?”

Lucy playfully rolled her eyes. “I think that we still have a lot more decorating to do before the others get here. But…” Leaning towards him, she pressed her lips against his in a chaste kiss. Pulling away, she smiled up at him. “It’d be breaking tradition if we didn’t kiss.”

Natsu watched as Lucy headed back to the living room to continue decorating for the Christmas party they were throwing. Lucy, wanting to be festive for the holiday, wore a skimpy Santa suit that Natsu couldn’t tear his eyes away from. Not only did it show a nice amount of cleavage, the dress was so short that it barely covered her bum. Another nice touch that spurred his desire was the white fluff that hemmed the edges, giving it a real Christmas vibe. She also wore white knee-high socks, which always brought his attention to her creamy legs. To top it all off, she wore a Santa hat. 

Natsu’s pants felt tight just looking at her.

Following her out into the living room, he wrapped his arms around her from behind. He could tell that she felt him hard against her from the way she jumped.

“Can’t we just take a lil’ break and do something else?” Natsu asked. He brushed Lucy’s hair out of the way and softly nuzzled the shell of her ear. Her body melted into his as he ran his hands up her sides and over her breasts. He was about to slip his hands underneath the cloth when she jumped away from him.

“No, Natsu,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. Her face was flushed with heat as she continued, “We can do that later but for now, we have to finish decorating. They’ll be here soon.”

Natsu huffed, crossing his arms with a pout. “Why are we celebrating over here anyways? It’d be easier to just meet them there. They already have a bunch of decorations up.”

“I don’t want to intrude during the holidays.”

“What do you mean? You aren’t intruding. You’ve been there tons of times by now!”

“I’ve only been there a few times, for your information. And I just don’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable.”

“Who would feel uncomfortable with you coming?” Natsu asked, arching a brow.

“Well, Mira for one,” Lucy answered, her lips tugged into a small frown. 

Natsu immediately understood, rubbing the back of his head. “Look, don’t take it personally. Mira’s just… different. It doesn’t have to do with you. She can’t really handle bein’ around mortals much. That’s why she’s the only one who turns down her chances of going to the outside world.”

“I know it’s nothing personal,” Lucy replied. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m not offended or anything by it. It’s just that she deserves to feel comfortable in her own home on Christmas. I’m okay with just having you guys over. And I’m okay with you going over there to celebrate too.”

Natsu frowned, uncomfortable with the thought of leaving Lucy alone for even a minute on Christmas. He promised her months ago that he would spend the day with her, how could he just leave?

“You know I don’t hafta go,” he said. “The others can go back without me. I’ll stay here with you.”

Lucy smiled and shook her head. “Thank you, Natsu. I appreciate that you’d do that for me, but you should go back later with them. I’m not the only person who wants to spend Christmas with you, and I’m not going to be that girlfriend who keeps her boyfriend away from his friends. It’ll just be for a couple of hours, so you’re going. And when you get back, we can exchange presents.”

Before he could argue, she grabbed some more decorations from the box, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and went to hang  them up.

About ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door. 

“Merry Christmas, Lucy!” the rest of the gang shouted the moment she opened the door. 

Lucy beamed at them. “Merry Christmas, you guys! Thanks for coming over!”

As everyone headed inside, Lucy noticed that she wasn’t the only one dressed for the holidays. Juvia adorned a beautiful blue dress covered in snowflakes and sparkles, a little tiara resting on her head. 

“Juvia is an ice princess,” the girl said when she noticed Lucy staring.

“You look beautiful, Juvia!” she replied. And it was true. The blue complimented her hair and fair skin perfectly. Her eyes moved over to Gray. He wore a top hat and some black jeans. As usual, he was without a shirt. “What’s up with the hat?”

“The guild always makes me dress as Frosty the Snowman on Christmas,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“So you wore a hat? Or was there more of the costume that you stripped away?”

“There was more, but they’re long gone by now.”

Lucy nodded, moving her gaze over to Erza and Jellal. While they weren’t fully dressed up like Juvia and herself, they wore cute reindeer headbands. 

Levy, on the other hand, wore an adorable elf costume. It was red and green, which although contrasted her hair greatly, still managed to look amazing on her. Her leggings were striped in the same green and red, and her hat had a bell at the tip. 

“You look so cute, Levy-chan!” Lucy gushed, wrapping the petite girl in a hug. 

“You too, Lu-chan!” the girl replied. 

Gajeel pushed past the two girls, allowing Lucy to see his costume. He was dressed in a Santa costume, his hair spray-dyed white. A scowl was plastered to his face as he grumbled, “Damn Shrimp, makin’ me dress up like this.” 

As soon as he was out of earshot, Levy cupped her hand around her mouth and whispered to Lucy, “I didn’t make him dress up like that. He woke up hours before everyone else so that he could get ready.”

Lucy covered her mouth with her hands, trying to stifle her laughter. Just the thought of Gajeel happily getting ready to dress up as Santa Claus had her nearly hunched over in laughter.

“Your apartment is so festive, Lucy,” Erza’s voice called out to her. 

“Thanks!” she replied, her smile as bright as the lit-up Christmas tree she had Natsu put in the corner of the living room. Lights were strewn across the ceiling, decorations were tacked to the wall, and she even woke up early in the morning to bake Christmas cupcakes. To say she loved Christmas was an understatement. She hadn’t been able to really celebrate the holiday in a long time, so now she was going all out.

“Can we open presents already!?” Natsu asked, bouncing excitedly in his seat.

“We just got here, idiot,” Gray said, rolling his eyes. 

Erza chimed in, “I agree with Natsu. We should open presents now.” Even though she kept a straight face and was still in her seat unlike Natsu, the twinkle in her eye made it obvious she was looking forward to presents just as much as he was. 

“Presents it is then,” Lucy said with a laugh. Everyone sat in the living room, presents sitting in their laps. With how big their group was, they decided to do a secret Santa exchange to save money. “Who goes first?”

“I will!” Erza exclaimed, a bright grin settling over her face. “Whoever got me, step forward!”

Lucy stood from the couch. “That would be me!” Handing Erza the gift, she watched as the redhead tore away the wrapping paper in an instant, revealing a rectangular box. Lucy watched anxiously as Erza removed the tape from the box’s sides. She may not have known Erza long, but she thought she knew her well enough. Though the redhead tried to hide it, there was a girly side to her. 

Erza opened the box, pulling out a violet dress. It was made of silk and was long enough to reach the floor. The sides were slit to reveal her legs, giving it a sexier feel.

“This dress is gorgeous, Lucy!” Erza said in awe. She grabbed the tag, her eyes bugging out of her head as she read the label. “HK!? This must’ve cost a fortune!”

“It wasn’t too bad,” Lucy replied, waving her off. Though in truth, that dress alone cost most of her allowance. Still, it was worth it to see her friend smile. 

Erza stood from the couch, holding her arms out in front of her for a hug. Lucy winced, knowing how rough the redhead could be. Knowing it was rude to turn it down, Lucy went in for a hug, praying that she wouldn’t bruise from it. Sure enough, Erza smashed her head down on her chest in what only she would call a hug. 

“Thank you, Lucy!” Erza said.

“D-Don’t mention it,” she replied. She sat back down on the couch, her head dizzy.

“Her hugs hurt, huh?” Natsu whispered in her ear.

“So badly,” Lucy replied with a nod. She then watched as Erza handed Juvia a small box. The wrapping paper was crinkled, and looking closely, Lucy could see that there were some extra scraps taped on, probably because she ripped the bottom layer. 

Gently tearing the wrapping paper away, Juvia opened the box to find four slips of paper. Confused, she picked them up and read the words printed on them. Immediately, a bright smile graced her face. 

“Oh, thank you, Erza!” she exclaimed.

“Wait, what is it?” Levy asked, unable to see what they were from where she sat. 

Juvia held up the slips of paper. “They’re two train tickets to Crocus and to the Crocus Garden!” 

“No way!” Lucy shouted. “I heard that they have a rainbow sakura tree over there! I’ve always wanted to go!”

“Well, the extra ticket was meant for Gray, but I suppose you could bring Lucy instead,” Erza said with a shrug.

Lucy laughed at the panic that washed over Juvia’s face. “Don’t worry, Juvia. You don’t have to bring me. It sounds like a fun date for you and Gray!”

The blue-headed girl heaved a sigh of relief. 

Natsu nudged her lightly. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to go there,” he said.

Lucy smiled at him. “Yeah. I’ve never been to Crocus before. I would love to see the rainbow sakura tree someday.”

“Then I’ll take ya there!”

“The train ride is over six hours long. I don’t think you’d last, Natsu.”

The boy glared at her, crossing his arms with a huff. “If you wanna go there, then I don’t care how long the train ride is. We’re going!”

Lucy giggled at his pouty face, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Natsu. I’m looking forward to it.”

Turning her attention back on Juvia, she watched the girl hand Gajeel his gift. It was kept in a tiny gift bag, small enough to make Lucy wonder what could possibly fit in it. Reaching inside, Gajeel pulled out what looked like a receipt. His eyes scanned the printed words before his eyes grew wide.

“No fucking way,” he said, whipping his head towards Juvia.

The girl nodded quickly, her smile wide. “Yep! Juvia bought you an electric guitar! Juvia left it back home though because it was too hard to wrap.”

Lucy’s jaw dropped on its hinges. An electric guitar? That blew the cost of the designer dress she bought Erza out of the water! How Juvia could afford to even buy it, she didn’t know. 

She watched as Gajeel- the boy who was usually a snarky hardass- turned into a weeping mess as he thanked Juvia and showed Levy the receipt. 

Lucy was surprised that Juvia would spend so much money for someone that wasn’t Gray, but after hearing from Natsu that the two were best friends since before even joining Fairy Tail, she couldn’t say she was too surprised. They must’ve known each other for decades- hell, depending on how old they were, maybe even centuries. He always stood up for her when people made fun of her for speaking in third person, and she was the one that dragged him from heading down a dark path and into Fairy Tail. Their friendship was strong, and Lucy admired that.

Lucy was brought from her thoughts when she heard Gajeel and Natsu arguing. Apparently Natsu was teasing Gajeel for crying. Before a fight could break out, Lucy and Levy forced their boyfriends to sit down by pulling on their ears.

Gajeel grumbled to himself before handing Jellal his present. 

Jellal’s brows rose. “You didn’t have to buy me a Christmas present. You just bought me a birthday present a few weeks ago.”

“Yeah, yeah. You say that every year. You should know by now that people are still gonna get you a Christmas present,” Gajeel replied, rolling his eyes.

Jellal smiled before ripping away the wrapping paper. Inside was a leatherback journal along with a calligraphy set. 

“I know Erza retrieved your old research journal from a museum or whatever, but I figured you could use a new one. And Shrimp here told me that you like to do calligraphy too.”

“I do. Thank you, Gajeel. It’s very thoughtful.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Lucy chuckled. “What a tsundere.”

Gajeel turned red in the face. “Shut up!”

Jellal grabbed a perfectly wrapped gift- much different than the gift his wife had wrapped- and handed it to Natsu. The pink-haired boy lit up like the Christmas tree, snatching it with a quick word of thanks before ripping into it like his life had depended on it. He uncovered a box full of different snacks, hot sauces from all over the world, and gift cards to fast food chains. 

“I truly did not know what else to get you besides food,” Jellal admitted. “After you caught the basement on fire with the pyrotechnics kit I bought you, I was prohibited from making that mistake again.”

Natsu grinned, grabbing a bag of chips and tearing into it. “Hey, this works for me!” Grabbing the wrapped gift at his ankle, he tossed it to Levy. “Oi, catch!”

Levy squealed, fumbling as she just barely caught the present. “I’m assuming this isn’t fragile.”

“Nope. But it did cost an arm and a leg to get it, so you better be glad!”

Levy perked a brow before opening the present. Inside the box was a stack of papers, stapled at the top. Her eyes scanned the words, confused as to what it could’ve been. 

“What is it?” she asked. It appeared to be a story, though there was no covering to it. 

“It’s a Heartfilia original!”

Levy’s eyes nearly burst out of their sockets. She whipped her head between Natsu and Lucy, the latter blushing. 

“Lu-chan wrote this?”

The blonde nodded. “It’s the very first story I’ve written. I started that way back during my first lifetime and I recently finished it. When I told Natsu about it, he said that he wanted to give it to you for Christmas. You’ll officially be my first reader, just like I promised!”

Levy burst into a fit of tears before tackling Natsu and Lucy to the ground. “I’ve been waiting for this day for forever! Thanks, you guys!”

Natsu laughed. “Don’t mention it!”

“And don’t show it to people either! It’s embarrassing!” Lucy added. 

Levy nodded, eager to read the story when Gajeel reminded her they were still in the process of Secret Santa. 

“Oh, right. Here you go, Gray!”

The boy thanked her as he accepted the gift. It was in a small gift bag. Reaching his hand in, he pulled out two slips of paper. 

“H-Holy shit!” he shouted. “These are concert tickets to see Lyra! They’re my favorite band!”

Natsu stood up, grabbing a ticket to see it himself. “No way! You gotta give me the extra ticket!”

“Why the hell would I wanna see a concert with you!?”

“Not like I wanna see one with you either, but I love Lyra too!”

“You can give the extra ticket to whoever you want,” Levy said with a shrug. Truthfully she wanted Secret Santa to end as quickly as possible so she could hurry up and read Lucy’s story. “Anyways, you’re next, Gray!”

   Gray handed Juvia the tickets for safekeeping- mainly to make sure Natsu didn’t steal one. He stood up and headed towards Lucy, the last person left in Secret Santa. 

“I got you, Lucy,” he said, his lips curled into a small smile.

She mirrored his expression, accepting the gift. She assumed he wasn’t good at wrapping since it was in a bag. When she reached inside the bag, she realized that he didn’t even use tissue paper to hide the present. 

Her fingers brushed against something smooth. Grabbing the object carefully, she pulled it out of the bag. It was a beautiful wooden box, its edges intricately carved. The top was painted a stunning starry landscape. She went to open the box, only to find a heart-shaped lock keeping it shut.

“The key is in the bag too,” Gray said, noticing her confusion.

She fished inside the gift bag for the key, inserting it into the lock and opening the box. The inside was lined with velvet, and the top had a small mirror glued to it. Lined pads were in the box, clueing Lucy into what the box was.

“It’s a jewelry box,” Gray said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I made it myself.” Smiling over at his girlfriend, he added, “Juvia painted the top though.”

“Thank you, Gray!” Lucy exclaimed, jumping up from the couch and hugging the boy. “It’s beautiful! I can’t believe you made it yourself!”

“Don’t mention it. I figured it’d be better than leaving your locket in a tampon box. That’s what the lock is for. Now you can keep it somewhere clean and safe.”

Tears pricked Lucy’s eyes. He made it so that she can hide her locket? Throwing her arms around the boy, she thanked him again, all the while wondering how she managed to find such great friends. She also made sure to thank Juvia for the beautiful painting she did on the box. 

         As the group split up into pairs to gush over their presents, Lucy excused herself to go to the restroom. When she was finished, she was surprised to find Natsu waiting outside the door. 

  “What are you doing?” the girl asked. She had known him long enough to recognize that mischievous glint in his eyes. 

   Instead of replying, the boy simply pointed up. Following his finger, Lucy found mistletoe taped in the doorway of the bathroom, hanging above them. Natsu’s hand slid up her thigh below her skirt. 

   “Are you crazy?” Lucy whispered, peering over his shoulder to make sure nobody was coming. “Everyone is here right now! We could get caught!”

   “Good luck being quiet then,” Natsu replied with an evil grin. He slid his hand up to her rear, giving it a squeeze. Pushing her hair out of the way, he sank his lips over her neck. 

   Lucy gnawed on her lower lip in hopes of staying quiet. “You know, a mistletoe is just for a quick kiss on the lips, not this.”

   Natsu shrugged, continuing his exploration of her neck. His hands slowly grazed her curves until brushing against the side of her breasts. Before he could grab them, Lucy reluctantly pulled away from him with a glare. 

   “Not while our friends are here!” she said, smoothing out her dress. She lightly smacked his hand away when he tried to reach out to her again. Sticking her tongue out at him playfully, she scurried off to join the rest of their friends back in the living room. Natsu chuckled before following after her. 

   Eventually, the group cleaned up the apartment as it was time to head back to Fairy Tail for the next Christmas party. 

   “Are you sure you don’t wanna join us, Lucy?” Gray asked. 

   Lucy nodded, faking a yawn. “Yeah, I’m a bit tired now. But I’ll see you guys tomorrow!” The only person she told about the real reason she didn’t want to go to Fairy Tail was Natsu. She didn’t want the others to worry and try to reassure her. She was fine with them going to celebrate with the rest of the immortals. She was happy enough with the time she got to spend with them. 

   The group nodded, saying their last goodbyes before heading out the door. Natsu stayed behind. 

   “Are you really sure about this?” he asked. He still hated the thought of leaving her by herself on Christmas.

   Lucy smiled. “Yes, Natsu. I’m fine, I promise.”

   “We can just stay in my room the whole time if you’re that worried about Mira!”

   “No. I want you to be able to celebrate with everyone. And I’m sure they’re looking forward to celebrating with you too. I’m fine, Natsu. Now shoo.”

   Natsu sighed in defeat. “Alright, but I’m coming right back here later tonight, okay? And if you change your mind, let me know and I’ll come walk you to Fairy Tail. Or if you get lonely I can come here.”

   “Yeah, yeah, I understand. Now go. You’re already late enough as it is.”

   Natsu gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll see you later.” 

   Before he could change his mind, Lucy waved and quickly shut the door, locking it so he knew she was serious about wanting him to have fun with everyone else. Staring at her empty apartment, admittedly the girl did feel a pinch of loneliness. Regardless, this was the best Christmas she’d had since her first life, she could deal with a couple of hours on her own. Grabbing a cup of hot chocolate, she curled up in a thick blanket and turned on a Christmas movie. The loneliness she felt quickly faded away. 

   Natsu cheered with the rest of the immortals, clinking his glass of spiked eggnog with everyone else. They had just finished the annual Fairy Tail Secret Santa. For this Secret Santa, he was assigned Cana, who was by far one of the easiest people to shop for. Give the girl a bottle of booze and she’s indebted to you for life. 

   He had also gotten a gift from Juvia, who was his Secret Santa. It was a hoodie from his favorite band, along with their newest CD. He still had to give Lucy her gifts later, and was eager to see what she got him as well. This year was shaping up to be the best Christmas ever. 

   When the party died down and people started heading to their rooms, Natsu decided that it was time to head back to Lucy’s. He went to his room to grab the gift he kept stashed away so that she wouldn’t find it. 

   “You heading over to Lucy’s now?” Gray asked after entering their room. 

   “Yep. Just had to get her present first.”

   “So, what’s the real reason she didn’t want to come over here? She wasn’t really tired, right? Is she still feeling nervous around everyone?” 

   “Kinda,” Natsu answered, rubbing the back of his head. “Truthfully it’s just Mira.”

   Gray winced. “Oh. Yeah, that makes sense.” 

   Mira was a nice girl, one of the nicest he had ever known. Unfortunately, her past with the mortals was the most traumatizing story he had ever heard. It was one that everyone knew not to ever bring up, for they knew the girl was haunted by it everyday. Nobody could blame her for keeping her guard up around Lucy, nor could they blame her for being the only immortal to turn down a chance at seeing the outside world. 

   “Yeah. I told Lucy that it wasn’t personal and that Mira was a bit different than the rest of us, but she still decided to stay home. She didn’t want Mira feeling uncomfortable on Christmas.”

   Gray smiled. “Lucy’s a really nice girl, huh.”

   “Yep,” Natsu replied with a grin of his own. “Anyways, I’m out of here.” 

   With hurried steps, the boy rushed up the stairs of the basement and out the door. He made sure to lock the doors to the pub behind him since the immortals were free to roam the top floor on Christmas. 

   Excited to see Lucy and still feeling guilty for leaving her, Natsu wasted no time in unlocking the door and closing it behind him. What he saw when he turned around made his jaw drop to the floor. 

There in the living room stood Lucy, practically naked. She still adorned the Santa hat she wore earlier, but she had discarded the dress. Instead, she had a Christmas bow taped to the middle of her collarbone, the ends flowing and covering her nipples. She also wore red underwear with white trimming on the edges. 

   “Welcome back,” Lucy said, her hands behind her back. 

   “How long were you waiting there like that?” Natsu asked, nearly choking on his tongue while he ogled her. 

   “Not too long.” Lucy lifted her arm above her head, revealing a mistletoe in her hand. “Well? Are you going to join me?”

   Natsu nodded his head so fast it felt like it was going to fall off. He ripped off his pants and rushed towards her, nearly tripping in his haste. Grabbing her by the hips, he crashed his lips upon hers. 

   “I take it this is my Christmas present?” he asked with a grin, lightly tugging the end of the bow that was taped to her. 

   “Yep. Wanna unwrap me?” 

   Natsu’s hands eagerly ripped the bow off of her before carrying her to the bed. Dropping her on the bed, he quickly tore off his shirt. Lucy squirmed below him, anticipation filling her fingertips as she tugged on his boxers. Without wasting another second, he took them off along with hers. 

   “You are so hot, Lucy,” Natsu said as he pressed his face between her breasts. He always enjoyed the feeling of being between them. 

   “Oh yeah?” Lucy replied with a smile. His praise always managed to turn her on. 

   “Mhmm. I mean, you were practically naked when I got here.”

   “Because I’ve been looking forward to this all day. Now, are you going to get me off or am I going to have to do it myself?”

   Natsu grinned before grabbing her breast in one hand while nuzzling the other. He could feel Lucy moving below him, trying to guide his cock to her folds. In his haze, he remembered the last time they had sex. 

   “That’s right, I have to repay you for last time,” Natsu said.

   “Hmm?” Lucy absentmindedly hummed out, too focused on the work he was doing on her breasts. 

   Instead of using his words to explain, Natsu trailed kisses from her breasts down to her navel, then to her thighs. He left feather-light kisses over right thigh, hovering over her folds before moving to her left. He stifled a laugh as he could feel Lucy getting impatient every time he neared her folds. Unable to hold himself back for too long, he pressed his lips against her flesh, slowly sucking on her skin. 

   Lucy nearly screamed at the sudden pleasure that raked her body the moment Natsu’s lips touched her sensitive skin. Her breaths grew louder as his lips worked over her. When his tongue suddenly grazed her clitoris, she let out a harsh breath. 

   “Fuck,” she said, covering her mouth with one hand while the other gripped the sheets. 

   Natsu glanced up at her with a proud grin. Grabbing her wrist, he pinned it to her side. 

   “I wanna hear you,” he said before returning his lips to her flesh. His tongue circled around her entrance before delving into her. Since he stopped her from covering her mouth, she opted for grabbing his hair instead, finding that she had to do something with her hands. His mouth was driving her crazy. 

   “N-Natsu,” she breathed out. “I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

   “That’s fine,” he replied, his breath warm against her flesh. It sent a shiver down her spine. “I want to make you cum like this anyways.”

   Not bothering to wait for her reply, he dragged his tongue over her clitoris before giving it a hard kiss. Lucy screamed out in pleasure, thrusting her hips and grinding his face. Switching from kissing and licking, he knew that Lucy was about to break, judging from her quick breaths and the way her legs shook around his neck. In seconds, she shuddered against him, her grip tightening on his hair as she moaned out his name. 

   When it was clear she was done, Natsu laid beside her with a grin. 

   “Well? How was it?” he asked. Though, he could tell from her flushed cheeks that it was more than good.

   Lucy tried to regain her breath as she replied, “We’re definitely doing that again sometime.”

   “Sounds good to me.”

   “Well, it’s your turn now!” Lucy exclaimed, sitting up. She positioned herself between his legs, stroking his hot shaft. 

   Taking a quick peek at him, she found his eyes squeezed shut as he enjoyed himself. Not wanting to keep him waiting, Lucy dragged her tongue against his cock before shoving it in her mouth. She started slow, still not used to this yet. When she started to feel more comfortable, she pushed herself further, allowing his whole shaft into her mouth. 

   “Fuck, Lucy,” Natsu ground out. 

   Knowing that he enjoyed it, Lucy picked up the pace while still going as far as she could. Tears pricked her eyes, but she ignored it in favor of pleasuring him the way he did for her.  

   Natsu tried to control his breathing, but the way Lucy’s hot mouth tugged on his cock had him nearing sweet release. 

   “L-Lucy, I’m about to cum,” he warned. 

   The blonde only nodded. That only made the fire in Natsu burn hotter. 

   Lucy, feeling adventurous, decided she wanted to try something new. Something that she had read about in a mature book once. 

   Instead of shoving his cock as far as she could in her mouth, she went halfway down his shaft. Using her hand, she pumped the lower half while sucking the top. 

   In seconds, Lucy felt something hot shoot into her mouth as Natsu shook beneath her with a groan. She allowed him to ride out his orgasm before eventually withdrawing. Not knowing what to do with the liquid in her mouth, she quickly gulped it down. 

   Natsu winced. “Sorry, was it gross?”

   Lucy shook her head. “Not at all, no need to apologize. I wanted to do it.” 

   Natsu smiled. The two laid there in a content silence, their bodies tired. When they finally regained their energy, Lucy stood up from the bed and grabbed something from the closet. Turning around, she smiled while holding a neatly wrapped gift. 

   “You got me a gift?” Natsu asked, his voice laced with childlike excitement. 

   “Duh! You didn’t really think sex was your only gift, right?” Handing him the gift, she watched as he tore off the wrapping paper and quickly opened the box to reveal a painting of him and Igneel. 

   Natsu looked up at Lucy with watery eyes. “W-What… How did you do this?”

   “I commissioned an artist to paint it for me,” she answered. “I noticed that the picture you have of you and Igneel was old and a little torn, probably because of how much time had passed since it was printed. I didn’t want it to get ruined since it’s your only picture with Igneel, so I had someone recreate it. A canvas is more durable than a picture, so hopefully it’ll-!”

   Lucy’s words were cut short as Natsu pulled her in for a tight hug. She could feel the light tremors of his body. Smiling, she wrapped her arms around him and allowed him to cry onto her shoulder. 

   “Do you like it?” she asked. 

   Natsu pulled away, wiping his eyes before smiling at her. “I love it. Thanks, Lucy. Oh, I got you a gift too.” Grabbing his previously discarded sweater, he pulled out a long, velvet box from the pocket. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to wrap it. And it’s not as good as the gift you gave me…”

   Lucy lifted his chin to meet his gaze. “I’ll love it. Don’t worry. Can I see what it is?”

   Natsu nodded, handing her the box and watching as she opened it. Upon doing so, Lucy gasped, one of her hands flying up to her mouth. Inside the box was a beautiful necklace with dangling diamond charms of constellations. 

   “Natsu, it’s beautiful!” she exclaimed. She gave him a worried look. “This must have cost a fortune!”

   The boy shrugged with a laugh. “Don’t worry about that. My housing and tuition is free, so I have a good amount of money saved up. You like it?”

   Lucy nodded, wiping a tear from her eye. She had never received a Christmas gift from a boyfriend before, and his knocked it out of the park. 

   “Of course I do! It’s beautiful! Thank you so much, Natsu!” 

   “I’m sorry mine isn’t as sentimental as yours. I probably should’ve put more thought into it. I just know you really like stars, so I wanted to get you something related to that.”

   Lucy grabbed his hand with a smile. “Do you know why I love the stars?” After he shook his head, she continued, “It’s because of my first mother. We used to stargaze every night, and she taught me about a bunch of constellations, all of them being on this necklace. This necklace is plenty sentimental. Thank you, Natsu. I love it so much.”

   They hugged again. 

   “Merry Christmas, Lucy.”

   “Merry Christmas, Natsu.”

[peeterparkr]

perennial;tom holland|thirteen.

chapter thirteen: heleniums

↳ flower meaning: comfort.

chapter summary: ‘very Tom and y/n’

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: Cherry, angst, fluff if you squint, smut (?, idk if there was any it’d be after the *), this hurts, but...rollercoaster

word count: 12.3K

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Hi, I’m back, super hard chapter to write, honestly. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it, happy new year. 

There were, with certainty, and exactly, three things Tom had regretted the most from that night, which, had they been avoided, he would’ve not had this mess. 

That night, not being y/n’s birthday, but the night before he slept with Cherry. It had led to the next day, and the next night, and to this mess. 

Tom had been confused, that is to say, he can’t be blamed for being confused. What had been something very, very innocent had turned into his worst nightmare. The background on his head was the peculiar reasoning behind the big decision that led to his first regret. 

The day before he slept with Cherry Tom had read the script. Not all of it, just part of it. Again, the part which had led to his broken heart. Tom regretted doing that, because the mind is such a dark place when it wants to be. Our minds are our biggest enemy, because who else knows what hurts the most than ourselves. 

Because Tom knew that the words written on that script hadn’t come from nothing. It’s what bothered him the most, is that every single word written there was completely and utterly true. 

He had been a monster. 

He regretted that, but we already knew that. 

He then had read over and over y/n’s last letter. Her telling him it was him, and no one else. Then why had she left? Why had he let her go? There was his mind telling him, being reasonable, telling him she’d left for the script, because she had. But then there was that one thought flying through his mind. She’d left and fall in love with Tim. She had once, why not twice? Y/N was vulnerable, and vulnerable hearts are easy to shape. Ghost haunting Tom’s mind, fearing he’d be buried deep in y/n’s mind. How much can a heart take? How many wounds until it finally dies. 

A flower can only bloom when it’s watered. 

He knew she’d end up forgetting him, that’s what the script said. But the letter said they’d be infinite. Would they? How many pieces were left out of the puzzle, making it unsolvable. Was she trying to get over him? 

Did he have to move on? He’d said that. She’d said that. Because it had made no sense why she left so suddenly when he’d needed her the most, to take her home and just listen to her, like she was an old song. She’d left when Tom had needed her the most,when he needed to make sure that they were supposed to love each other, to make sure he was the one. 

The second thing he’d regretted that night had been answering Cherry’s call, and accepting her offer to go out for a drink. He had been well aware of her flirting. And he’d give in because it felt like a cheap love , and he couldn’t afford for more at time, and it was easy, so unbelievable easy. Like she was giving in to him, without any ‘buts’. Without any built in walls, without any prejudice. 

He would’ve never known that he was so stupid. 

Tom had been lying when he said he hadn’t seen the next night coming. Because he’d made the decision the night before, at that one pub, with the warm beer that gave no entertainment, listening to a laugh that sounded like hers, some pair of eyes that if you tried hard enough, you could see hers. Someone so close, so near hear. And after a few more drinks, familiarity is what we all need. The hearts make the eyes see what we want to see. And if your mind is wild enough, he could pretend it was her. 

The third thing he regretted from that night, it had been leaning over to kiss Cherry, thinking that the alcohol would blind him enough to make him believe her lips were y/n’s. But when it’s not hers, then you’ll never be satisfied. 

He hadn’t been, but the lips had been welcoming. It had been him. He knew that. He’d fallen under the spell that Cherry was. 

Cherry, honestly, was a dark omen with raving hope. Tom had been a victim. Because Cherry had known what she was doing. 

But Cherry had also fallen under the lie that Tom was. Cherry, deep in her heart had known that y/n, her cousin, whom she barely knew, had something to do with Tom. She couldn’t map what, she knew they were enemies. Was there something else? He had shown up with flowers. 

Y/N when asked by Cherry, had once said only a fool would fall for Tom. 

And Cherry had been such a fool. Cherry, just like Tom, had gone through a heartbreak. An awful one, the one that makes you think that you’re not supposed to love. Cherry, had heard y/n say heartbreaks can be felt, and she agreed. Her ex girlfriend had broken up with her because she’d decided that Cherry just ‘wasn’t what she wanted’ Cherry wasn’t ‘enough to make her happy’. 

‘Cherry, you’re a season, and I need a year.’ 

It hurts. Cherry had known about it, how she was like a flower, only blooming every now and then. Not all year long. Cherry, most people said, was someone who people used, for a night. She’d known it long enough. Though Cherry is now the villain in our story, she can’t be blamed. Hearts are never easy, and hearts are vulnerable. 

And vulnerable hearts are easy to be shaped. Everyone thought Cherry was perfect, she’d hear it said, by other people, ‘oh, you’re the kind of girl that steals every glance in the room’, ‘you’re the one girl everyone wished they were’. Yet, she was never loved. 

So when Tom, trying to search for something so familiar to the one he loved, he’d made Cherry believe that she could be loved. 

She had tried not to, at first, but when Tom had kissed her that night, with those eyes he gave to y/n, but only with hopes of trying to find y/n there. And Tom hadn’t been disappointed, and he had kissed Cherry again and again. 

And while Tom was trying to find what he was looking for, not finding it, Cherry had found the one thing she’d searched for, her entire life, someone who wasn’t getting tired, someone who asked for more. 

Complicated. 

Cherry had heard it then, how Tom had left. And she was left again with those thoughts in her mind, what had she done wrong? 

James had come and told her he was forbidden territory, that Tom and y/n had a lot of story, that Cherry couldn’t go there. That she couldn’t go to Tom because he was forbidden. But how could he be? Her secret in a crowded room, how easily had she fallen for him, because he was oh, so easy to love. 

She remember the night he’d kissed her, first silence, no patience. How desperate the kiss had been, and how the whole world had stopped, because he kissed her like he loved her. 

He didn’t, but Cherry didn’t know that. Because it’s easier to believe that he wanted to take off her dress, to kiss her soul. It didn’t make sense, and she’d hidden under the lie that it’d be a rebound, a mutual agreement, but how hard had she tried to keep her hands to herself because she only wanted his hands to touch her. 

And she’d dream about him, all night long. If he’d kissed her that way, it meant he had feelings, too, right? 

What a fool Cherry had been, used as a ploy. He’d come the very next day, and there were his lips again, on her. So desperate for her. 

But Tom knew that though he had tried to kiss her like she was y/n, she wasn’t. But who wouldn’t fall for someone who is kissing you like your the love of their life? 

People can’t be replaced, we are all unique, and Tom had only realized it after Cherry’s hair was against his neck, after mistaking pleasure for passion, and after confusing lust with love. 

Problem was Tom hadn’t told Cherry, not exactly. He’d said the wrong words. 

Maybe Tom did regret a fourth thing, saying those words. “It’s the most similar thing that it’s to love, but one can’t pretend enough.” 

Cherry hadn’t understood the meaning behind that sentence. She thought he meant he loved her, while he, actually told her it wasn’t enough to be love. 

Then, gone. Gone. 

And then, y/n’s birthday had come around, and he was there, it was her time, because y/n and Cherry aren’t so different. They both wanted a fairytale. She had, indisputably, and after been told a lie, she had so foolishly tried to look for Tom. 

Love blinds us and makes us see what we want to see, and she hadn’t seen Tom and y/n. She’d seen y/n and Tim, and she’d seen Tom here and there, not with her. And she’d told her cousin, how she was deeply, madly in love with Tom and couldn’t get him out of his head. 

James had said: “you’re drunk, Cherry, dear, you can’t be in love.” 

Who was James to tell her her feelings were not hers? And she’d heard it again, from that one guy, Josh, ‘how she was the prettiest that night’, yet he’d kissed Emma. He had heard it from Tim, ‘you look stunning’, yet his eyes had been on y/n. 

And she’d been rejected, just when she’d kissed Tom, how he’d run to y/n.  Leaving Cherry, confused and heartbroken and not feeling enough, because though she’d given Tom everything, she still was not… enough. 

It had been a rough night. To everyone, really. The moment y/n had left the club, it had seemed things had turned out to be worse than imagined. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” and that sort of questions had rained over Cherry. “Tom’s y/n’s boyfriend!” 

“He is dating your cousin!” 

“You’re a slut!” 

Was she? 

Maybe she was. 

And she had reached for Tom, and she’d found him, right outside the bar, with a hand on his waist, and the other one pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes, tired, pale and sad. 

“Tom-?” She’d said, with fear. 

Tom had flinched hearing her voice. 

Tom knew he was to blame for a lot of things. 

But not this one. Not this particular one. 

Sure, he had been angry at the statement Timothée had made but he hadn’t really known anything. As far as he could recall the events that had gone through quickly, he didn’t even remember when Cherry had approached him, honestly he was too drunk and too busy staring at y/n. 

Cherry had said something to him, she wanted to talk. She said she really wanted to talk. He didn’t. 

“Tom?” She’d asked, again. 

“What?” He had snapped. “Can’t you--Can’t--Why did you do this?” He sounded desperate, angry, hurt, enraged. 

“I… didn’t know-” 

“You didn’t know?” He asked. “You didn’t know that I’m dating-Or was dating or whatever… you didn’t know that your cousin--- you didn’t know she’s the love of my life?” 

“I didn’t,” she snapped. 

James had walked over. “You knew.” 

“I didn’t,” Cherry said, or she’d chosen not to acknowledge she did know. When you’re in love you can become the most stupid, selfish and stubborn you can be. 

“Still why-would you do this?” Tom asked. “Fuck now-Now she’ll think-Fuck, I don’t even know what she thinks.” 

Cherry watched him. She had fucked up, and judging by how everyone was coming out just to yell at her, and Tom. 

Cherry had been drunk, honestly. Everyone had been, and maybe that had been the only courage she had needed. She’d seen Timothée approaching Tom, they were yelling at each other, Tim had pushed Tom, but Tom had easily pushed him off, harder. Yelling, cursing. James trying to separate them, were they fighting? Cherry couldn’t figure out whose fist had gone to whose face. Emma still asking why she’d done it. Sam asked about it. 

Cherry was feeling sick, and she felt like she was about to vomit.  Being asked about it, over and over and over. Why she’d done it, why had she been such a bad cousin, a slut, or whatever they were saying. How Emma kept yelling at her. 

No, she wasn’t going to vomit, but Cherry wished that what had come out of her mouth had been that instead. “Because I love him!” Cherry had said. 

And suddenly the chaos ceased. And then, Cherry knew, the blame was on Tom now. No one dares to question a woman in love. Because of course, if she was in love with him, it had been something Tom had done. 

Tom hadn’t answered. He only looked at her as if asking her how she dared to be in love with him, as if he didn’t believe her.  He had only cursed to himself, he was defeated. 

He didn’t care for her, not right now. But he did feel guilty. Because Tom had been the one to listen to her heartache. 

Cherry and Tom were not so different, either. How they both feared they were not right for the person you could love. 

It’s stupid, to think that. But Tom didn’t know how to apologize to her, but honestly, he thought Cherry would get it. He hoped she did. 

He had told her, how he had had his heart broken by someone who knew how to hurt him on his open wounds , and yet she hadn’t used the one weapon to create a new one. 

Why hadnt Cherry connected the dots? Was it not too obvious that Tom’s heart belonged to y/n? Was it not expressed enough? Did his eyes stutter when seeing y/n?

Tom had only pushed Tim before getting into a car, James had gone with him. 

“Are you going to kill me?” Tom had snapped. 

“No,” James said. “I saw what happened.” 

Tom only clenched his jaw, he was stressed, angry. “I didn’t—I swear I— I wasn’t—“

“I know.”

“And now she left—“

James nodded. “With Harry.” 

Tom thought he had already erased his fears with Harry. There was that thought in his head, quietly still roaming around, loud enough but tender to be just a faint sound. Could y/n catch feelings for Harry? Because when one is vulnerable, the head can easily be molded, and shaped. He’d learned that with Cherry, he knew that’s why y/n fell in love with Tim and there was that possibility. What if this was just the only straw y/n needed? 

And why was he even thinking about that? He’d broken her heart and there was no possible way of solving this, this had been the worst outcome from all the possible scenarios that could’ve gone down, this had been the one horrible ending to y/n’s birthday. 

“Before you freak out,” James interrupted Tom’s thoughts as soon as they’d arrived to the flower shop, where Tom thought y/n would be. “It’s the best thing that could’ve happened to you.” 

“She’s not here, fuck it,” Tom said, stressed out. Had she gone home? He ordered another car. 

“Her leaving with Harry,” James said. “He’s the only one she opens up to.” 

Tom sighed. “I don’t know,” he said, staring at his phone. 

“Harry will be able to calm her, they are best friends and they haven’t-talked in a while,” James said. 

“They have, they’ve texted,” Tom snapped, knowing damn well his brother had been in touch. 

“They’re not going to fall in love,” James said. 

Tom gulped down, “How do you know that? What if-what if she’s supposed-I-” 

“Stop fucking sabotaging yourself.” 

“I-” 

“She loves you,” James said. “That’s the least fucking thing you should be worrying about, you broke her heart, she just bloody saw you kissing another woman who happens to be our own cousin, you realize that, right?” 

“Yeah-yeah-But I didn’t-” 

“I know, Tom, but she knows the background, it wasn’t the kiss, it’s what the kiss meant, y/n had been avoiding this long enough and the glass just broke down, alright?” 

Tom only cracked his fingers, one by one, nervously listening to him. “I fucked up.” 

“Yeah, you did, so let’s-” 

“Should I-call her?” 

“That’s up to you,” James said. “Why are we even here?” 

“I thought she’d be here,” Tom admitted. “The flowers calm her down,” he said. “I-I dunno, I-- she wouldn’t go back home-I mean to her place, because- or would she? If she did then--” 

“No, because then she’d face Timothée and I’m sure Harry wouldn’t let her,” James said. 

“And she wouldn’t go to my place-” Tom was shaking, but it wasn’t cold, yet he was freezing. 

“You can ask Harry,” James suggested. 

Tom knew, in his heart, that he shouldn’t call, as James had said, Y/N could only completely open with Harry, he knew that, when it came to Harry, y/n didn’t have any second guessing or she didn’t stop and think, she just blurted everything out, and maybe that’s what she needed, to let it out, calm down. 

Besides, he knew that she wouldn’t answer if he dared to call. 

James didn’t know what to tell him either, it’s not that he was on Tom’s side. James was always team y/n, but James was so bloody empathetic to Tom, they were best friends and honestly, he knew Tom didn’t mean any wrong. Besides, James had learned from Tom that he was not so bad for y/n, so similar in some ways, different enough to always have an argument but realize that they were both so incredibly similar that it was what bothered them when children, ‘how dare my enemy agree with me’, and Tom had a weak heart, not like y/n’s who could have multiple rocks thrown at her heart and she’d be fine, but Tom’s heart would break so easily, James also remembered Tom had said, a while ago, when younger, to him:“Y/N looks like the type of girl you never forget, you can’t get over her, never move on. Like that one heartbreak time can’t heal.” 

How many years had gone by since y/n had broken Tom’s heart and he probably hadn’t healed? 

And James had seen Tom, how incredibly anxious and worried he was about y/n’s birthday being perfect, and how he had, against his will, invited Timmy, because he knew that not inviting him would make y/n mad. And how he’d chosen every little aspect thinking of her.

James had underestimated Tom, and y/n. Y/N did seem to let go so easily when she was around Tom, probably because they’d seen each other’s worst and now they wanted to be the best versions of themselves. 

James had seen that. 

But Tom was so, so bloody scared of screwing up, and he kept being haunted by his actions. Tom was so sure he’d fuck up, but not this way. Not in a way that was, though partly, not entirely his fault. 

“Or—what if you call her?” Said Tom, knowing she might answer him instead. With a sort of plan to take away the phone and try and talk to her with hopes of not being hung up. 

James did, and y/n didn’t answer.

Tom did ask Harry, only to know if she was with him, and if they were safe. That’s all he needed to know for now. 

He finally decided to go home, knowing that calling her was a big risk and that she wouldn’t answer and if she did what would he say?

James had asked Clark and Sam to find elsewhere to stay. James was anxious that Clark would get scared and run away from the mess his family and friends were. 

James had tried to reach for y/n. But then he realized that a friend needed him that night. 

“What am I supposed to say now?”

“That you’re sorry for starters, tell her the truth?” James suggested matter-of-factly. 

“She’s going to think that I had feelings for Cherry,” Tom said. 

“And she did have feelings for you,” James stated. 

Tom scrunched his nose. “I didn’t know that, but is that-?”

“Your fault?” James shrugged. “Dunno. Depends.” 

“I didn’t do anything thinking she’d fall in love,” he admitted. “I-I-I thought it was clear it was--She even said it herself,” Tom said. “This is a rebound, yes, not my proudest moment and I regret doing that but-” 

James shrugged. “Honestly, Tom, you have to tell her the truth, that’s it.” 

Tom sighed, eyes closed as he shook his head. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen-” 

James only watched him. 

“I’m-” Tom took a deep breath. “I… And here goes, I hurt her again, I’m just-How can I be so stupid to keep hurting her, how did I let this happen? I… can’t be what she wrote there, I was supposed to change or give some backstory or try and mend it. It’s like- We are not going to make it. And now I hurt wounds that hadn’t been healed, I don’t know what I’m saying, it’s like the more I’m talking the more I try to mend it the less I understand the more I hurt her.” 

James kept quiet, knowing Tom needed to talk. 

“How can I hurt her so much when I love her? And yet more plan wrecked and she’s going to tell me she wants me out of her life and I don’t know what’s different from last time?” 

“That you want to solve it.” 

“I always wanted to, yet I ended up hurting her again.” 

Tom was in misery, all night, trying to find the right words he’d say. Guilt was killing him, and he saw something very familiar, he saw how Tom and y/n weren’t that  James watched Tom, and he saw someone who really was trying. James wanted to call y/n, and he wanted to know how she was doing, but he knew that he’d get no answer from her. How was she doing? 

Probably not better than Tom, who at some point had left James alone, to only remain quiet in his room. James was sure Tom was crying but he knew he didn’t want to be seen crying. 

It was a long story, between Tom and y/n, and though James didn’t understand it, he couldn’t stop himself from trying to figure it out. What happened with them that they were so drawn to each other? Did the happiness really outshine the bad moments enough to forget it? Why did they love each other so much? Because James knew why he loved Clark, but Tom and y/n? Who were they when nobody was watching them. 

Tom was never one to shut everyone out, Tom was never quiet so who was this Tom, thinking to himself, quietly, sadly. He’d never seen him like this. 

James thought Tom was preparing for a heartbreak, one he would be guilted for. James also wanted to suggest he call her, but he didn’t know what was right with y/n. He felt guilty for not calling his sister, and he only texted Harry, who told her she was as fine as she could be. 

The next morning, Tom had woken up-or maybe he was still awake from the night before, he probably hadn’t slept. James had heard him talk to Harry. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take a shower and I’ll go talk to her.” 

Then Tom had called Sam, who wasn’t happy with any situation. 

James had called Clark. 

“I’m sorry you were in this mess,” he said. 

Clarke sighed. “It’s alright, I mean--” 

“How bad was it after I left?” 

“Let’s say there was a--plot twist,” Clark said. 

“Plot twist?” 

“You’ll have to deal with later, but--” 

Someone was knocking on the door. 

“I’m sorry-- someone is here,” James said. 

And there, he saw y/n, the most broken he’d ever seen her. He had expected her to cry and sink to the floor immediately. She didn’t. 

And she had yelled and she was angry, desperate. He’d never seen her so decided before. Without any hesitation she rushed past James. The woman had enough anger and decision, so James feared she’d kill Tom. 

“I’ve seen his fucking dick James, I don’t bloody care!” Y/N had burst into the bathroom, only to find a lonely and broke Tom that was trying to soothe his mind under the hot water, James had tried to stop her but she’d slammed the door shut. 

“Y/N!” Tom could only say with surprise. 

“What is wrong with you?” She asked, with anger as Tom turned the shower off and quickly reached for his towel. “No, seriously, what is wrong with you? And you didn’t call!” She yelled once again. 

Tom could see how she was wearing the dress from last night, her makeup was very messy, and so was her hair, the princess that once stood on a dance floor was a broken girl with a bouquet of yellow flowers

“Y/N I’m—“He tried to speak as he walked out of the shower, covering himself with the towel, water still streaming down his body. 

“You slept with her, Tom!” She yelled. “And here are your bloody yellow flowers!” She’d thrown them at him, sloppily. “And why—What are you going to do? Was it your plan again? Is this a prank? Like last time?  Is that what you’re going to say that I’m not your type and that you’d never dare someone like me and that this was all a prank and I should’ve seen it coming?” Her voice was loud but sounded broken, trying so hard not to break.”Why—why didn’t you call?” She spoke quickly and loud. 

“No, no, y/n, please calm down I didn’t mean for this to happen!” Tom said. This wasn’t how it wasn’t supposed to go. But honestly, Tom didn’t know it actually was supposed to go. 

“Oh, that fixes everything!” She snapped. 

“No, I-” Tom closed his eyes. “No, no, I’m sorry.” 

“If you are—Please tell me it was not a prank please—and you didn’t—“She wasn’t speaking coherently. She couldn’t speak, for that matter, he could see her struggle as she was breaking down, trying to fight the tears from falling down. “Please, please tell me it wasn’t all a prank like you did after that club night-” 

“No, y/n, y/n,” and he would have to follow James’ advice to remain calm, he approached her and gently took her hands. “No, I’m sorry—“ 

“Tell me—“

“It’s not a prank,” he said. “I love you, it’s not a prank this is not Rome.” 

That’s what she needed to listen to. 

She was still angry, but she leaned against the bathroom wall, defeated. She didn’t look at him. She caught her breath, slowly, looking up at the ceiling, 

“Please, y/n, look at me, it was not a prank, I love you,  it was a mistake, very—stupid mistake.” 

“You kissed her.”

“I—didn’t,” Tom said. “Please, look at me.”

She did. Slowly looked up to see him, her eyes were surrounded by bags and they were puffy and red. She’d been crying all night. 

“I’m sorry,” and he meant it. 

She looked away, she seemed furious. 

“Talk to me, please-”

.“You kissed—“

“I didn’t kiss her—She kissed me. I know, it doesn’t-But, please look at me, y/n, I’m—there’s a lot to talk but I didn’t kiss her. Please—look at me.” 

She looked again “I’m looking at you but I can’t see you—“she sounded tired, but not from her lack of sleep, tired from him. “Why didn’t—why didn’t you call?” She repeated, she wasn’t stopping the tears now. 

Tom felt so heartbroken only from watching her.“Would you’ve answered?” He asked as he tried, slowly to clean up her tears. 

“You didn’t call,” she stated, voice breaking. 

Tom had made a mistake by not calling, he knew that now. 

“I know, I regret it now,” he admitted. “I—just didn’t know what I was supposed to say.” 

“That you’re—“

“I am sorry, I know, you don’t believe how much I regret everything but you have to know that I didn’t kiss her last night, but I know being sorry isn’t enough.” 

She seemed as if she had a million things to tell him but couldn’t come around to say them, the words shaking and fading as soon as she opened her mouth. She crossed her arms and looked away. “Please tell me she’s not here—” she spoke as if her words were stabbing her, hurting her. “I know you wouldn’t be stupid enough to have her here, but please tell me she isn’t.” 

“What? Why would she?” 

She glared, “dunno,she’s not at her mother’s.” 

“You thought she’d be here?” Tom asked. 

Y/n didn’t know how to answer. “I knew she wasn’t but had to make sure.” 

She knew, at least. Tom thought. 

“I’m sorry,” Tom said. 

She didn’t say anything, but finally let the quiet tears slowly stream down her face, Tom couldn’t look her in the eye, not with this guilt. 

He took a deep breath. “Look I need—I need to get dressed alright? I was taking a shower and I was going to look for you. Harry told me you’d be at the hotel.” 

She looked away. “Yeah I’m not anymore I came here.” 

“Yeah. I can see that.” 

She only looked up at him. 

“Why did you come?” He asked, only then noticing she was still wearing the necklace he’d given her. 

“Because I—I don’t know—Because you didn’t call and I-” 

“I’m sorry,” he said, and took a deep breath. 

She only tried to avoid his gaze. 

“I’m going to get dressed,” he said, calmly. “Uh-do you—want to take a shower too? Borrow some clothes? Or do you want to talk right now?” 

“No—I guess—I need a shower.” 

Soon enough she was in the shower and Tom was dressed, he bumped into James as he walked out of his room. 

“She’s going to breakup with me,” Tom said. Because he knew she would, honestly he didn’t expect any less. He deserved that… But did he? 

“I thought she was going to murder you,” James admitted, but judiging by Tom’s look, he regretted it right away. “Bad time to joke—” He cleared his throat. “Look, she came here okay? Knowing y/n, it’s a first, she is never the first to ask for something face to face, she usually writes a letter and—” 

Tom sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” 

“I’ll go out with Clark and Sam all day, I—look, you fucked up before but I know this—” 

Tom squinted. “Why did she have to kiss me? Why did this all have to blow up before we could even talk-” 

“Look I don’t know, I—no, I do know why she kissed you,” James stated. “And you know it too and you have to tell that to y/n.” 

“How am I supposed to tell her that she is in love with me? She’ll freak out and say I’m in love with her.” 

“Probably,” James agreed. “But you have to remain calm, even when she yells, listen to her she’s in her right.” 

“Yeah.” 

“And just to calm you down, she came here to you, not to Tim alright? That’s an advantage,” James reminded him. 

Tom hadn’t thought about Tim, and that thought hadn’t gone to his head. But now, it would linger. Not that it mattered but-”How do I know he hasn’t called her?” Tom asked. 

“Because she went to Harry and your brother wouldn’t let her do that not because of you but because it would’ve been stupid,” James stated. 

“What do I say?” 

“The truth, for starters and don’t—Dont bring the Tim thing up,” James said. 

“Yeah, I know.” 

James left, knowing a storm would be coming to that place. 

Tom didn’t know what to do, or wait, how had they postponed the fight like this, not only today but since he’d arrived. How and why had she avoided it? And why hadn’t he told her? He should’ve. 

She had to make sure that Cherry wasn’t there, she’d said it: I don’t think she is. Did she trust him? He hoped she did. 

Tom wished for patience, how hard he had tried not to explode and burst back the Tim thing. It seemed like y/n had tried hard not to explode. 

Though this was hard, Tom knew in his heart that this was both of them either trying to work it our or finally giving up completely. The latter option being so terrifying. Lost in his thoughts. But he knew that the stray and venomous thoughts were not going to get him anywhere, maybe a whirlwind. 

Eventually, y/n had walked out, dressed with his clothes, a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, as she dried her hair with the towel. She seemed so calm. Terrifyingly calm. 

“Thanks for--For the clothes,” were the only words she’d said. 

Tom only watched her. “I’m sorry.” 

“I know… I knew.” She knew? “I’m sorry I came in yelling like a crazy person,” she apologized. 

“You’re in all your right,” he nodded. 

“No, I’m not,” she sighed before walking over to sit beside,he only watched her. 

“You knew,” Tom said. Knowing what her words from before meant. 

“Yeah,” she sighed.

“Who--How did you--?” 

She bit her lip, and shrugged. “I know you,” she admitted. “And she posted a picture, she--Posted several pictures of you guys together.” 

“But you assumed-” 

“No, I saw that one picture with you kissing her cheek, and I knew,” she gulped. 

“How?” 

“The way you looked at her?” Y/N’s voice was shattering, her eyes had began to water down. “I-” 

“I don’t-” 

“You looked at her the same way you looked at me, and-” She was tearing down, trying to avoid and ignore she was. 

“I didn’t-” 

“You did,” she gulped down. 

He had, for that matter. But not for the reasons she thought. 

“I slept with her,” he admitted. “But-” 

“But?” 

“But it didn’t mean anything.” 

“She’s in love with you,” y/n stated. How did she know? How in this world? “It means something.” 

“How-?” 

She shrugged. “I happen to be an expert on knowing how it feels to love you and not being reciprocated.” 

Tom took a deep breath. 

“You’re not easy to love,” y/n said, standing up. “Contrary to popular belief and how easy it seems I do it, you’re not easy to love, you’re so…”She couldn’t finish her sentence. “So I could see her, last night, she looked like such a damn fool, and she-She’s an idiot, for falling for you, no one in their right mind would fall for you, guess it’s a family thing,” she poisoned, as she sat back on the bed, near the headstand, crossing her arms. “But--” 

“I don’t have any feelings for her,” Tom said, still at the edge, not facing her. 

“Yeah, I know, but it still is my cousin you decided to sleep with,” y/n said with venom. “You fucking slept with her  and then you kiss her on my birthday right fucking in front of me.”

“She kissed me.” 

“And then you let me go, you didn’t even explain anything you didn’t try to stop me, you just stood there…. and then you didn’t call and I can’t believe I let you break my heart again I can’t--” She was running out of breath, though he could hear her anger, her voice was calm. That was scared. “I don’t want to beg for your love, Tom, I don’t want to be broken again and I don’t want to say goodbye again.” 

“I don’t want to-either.” 

She glared at him. “How was it?” 

“What?” Tom turned to see her. 

“Was she good?” 

Tom blinked. “I— don’t—understand.” 

“Answer me, good? How many times did you-?” 

“Just once,” Tom answered. He tried to crawl to her but she stood up, arms crossed. 

“And how was it?” She asked with poison, her words stabbing Tom. 

He didn’t know how he was supposed to answer. “I don’t even know I was thinking about you the whole time.” 

“Oh,” she scoffed. “How refreshing, you were thinking of me while making love to my cousin,” she snaked. 

“It was a mistake,” he said. “I didn’t-”

“Ah, yeah, you tripped and your dick fell into her,” she snapped. “A mistake.” 

Tom heard it, he closed his eyes. “It didn’t mean anything.” 

“Sex has to mean something,” she said. 

“No it doesn’t,” Tom snapped. 

“It does.” 

“Fine if it does it means I broke her heart because I did the one thing she hates about people,” Tom snapped. “I used her to try to get you out of my mind and it only- 

She clicked her tongue. “Made it worse, buddy.” 

He plopped on the bed stressed. “Can we please talk about this?” 

“Well, go on, tell me, everything,” she pleaded, arms crossed. 

“What?” 

“What happened with her.”

“You want to know what happened with Cherry? Tom asked.

She nodded. “Don’t spare any detail. You said you wanted to talk.” 

 What would he tell her? The truth. 

And so he did. So he told her, from the very first moment he met Cherry, how clueless she was. And how heartbroken he was but how Cherry, being clueless was the only damn thing he needed. Someone who didn’t judge him, someone who didn’t know any of the drama. Not about the script.  Not about y/n and Tom. How Tom could take a breath, and how he found a friend that would ease his mind. How he had searched for y/n in every face but failed to do so. A distraction he needed, and that it had presented itself. How Cherry had been a friend, a friend that didn’t feel like anything more. How Tom did have some sort of feelings. Not love, but he cared for her. 

How Cherry did flirt. How he didn’t. At first. 

Y/N didn't show any reaction, still quiet. No yelling, no eyebrows furrowed, just listening.  Cold staring. 

But Tom continued, connecting the stories he’d already told her about how he missed her, and how much he wanted to call and how he always tried to not think about her. How he had been heartbroken, and how her most than anyone should understand how broken hearts leads us to do something stupid. But how it was because he missed her, how he’d gotten used to her lips, and how he missed waking up beside her. To the night he decided to kiss her. 

“Why did you kiss her?” She finally interrupted. “The first time.” 

“I thought— I—I would— I don’t know what I thought, I… No, I do know, I do know why I kissed her,”  he sighed. “This is going to sound so stupid.” 

“Try me.” 

“I—well—It might make you feel worse.”

She took a deep breath. “Go on.” 

“I—you left, y/n, to get over me,” he explained. “You—“

“What?” 

“I—“ he looked over in his drawers. “You give me this letter and then you left— you said—“

“Yes I know, I meant every single word there—“

“And I was hurt okay? You left and you were living with Tim.” 

“Is that why—?”

“No,” he said, “it wasnt—I just missed you so much—I felt—how you’re feeling right now.” 

She finally snapped out of her calmness. “How I am—no, no, you don’t understand what I’m feeling,” she growled. “Not even half of it, you broke my heart and I—I” she stood up and walked around the room. “And this was the first time I was hoping—I thought you wouldn’t and then you just—I didn’t come here to get over you, it was never like that, I gave myself time to heal so I could love you without any hard feelings and without any—So I could love you completely but then—I knew it just from that one picture I knew you had slept with her, because the eyes—-They way you were fucking looking at her.”

“I know, It’s the way I look at you alright?” 

“I know, I fucking know, don’t you think I was heartbroken?” She asked. 

“I thought that if I looked at her that way eventually I would move one—“

She took a deep breath before asking, “and why did you want to move on?”

Because he thought she would, for starters. But he wouldn’t bring Tim up. No, he couldn’t 

“I didn’t—I—I didn’t—I never felt anything, I—searched for you?” He continued. 

She scoffed. “With my cousin Tom? Was that the most familiar thing?”

Yeah, he heard it. It was so stupid. 

He sighed. “I’m not proud of it.”

“Well I hope you aren’t—You don’t get it, I was ready to—call you that day, the day I found out,” she gulped and sat back down, far from him not facing him, “I was doing better, and I wanted to call you so we could—try again and I remember going back to social media and I was—going to call you alright? See how you were doing,” she spoke quietly. “And I saw the picture and then I knew it—no one had to tell me, and then it was days and days going on and I tried to move on and the sky was just grey, no silver moon suns, I couldn’t sleep I couldn’t feel anything I just felt insignificant and like an idiot because—“

“I didn’t love her,” Tom said. 

“It’s not only that Tom, whatever you did, whatever you said...whatever you—you made her fall for you,” y/n said. “Because you looked at her—You looked at her like you—looked at me and I—“

“No, I didn’t mean it,” Tom said before rushing over to her side, trying to reach for her hand. She snapped it away. 

“Oh, and that fixes everything,” she rolled her eyes. “All good now, you slept with her but you didn’t mean it!” She stood up. 

“I slept with her because I couldn’t call you,” he explained. 

“You couldn’t hold your dick for five seconds?” She hissed. 

“You—look I’m not trying to—You also slept with Tim,” he stated. Finally throwing the bomb at her.knowing he shouldn’t have but he couldn’t hold it anymore. She blinked, watching him. “No one told me,” Tom answered the question he knew was going through her mind. “No one had to, at first. I assumed you had, and then he confirmed it. But did you?” 

“I did,” she said. Now the blame was not entirely on Tom. But he hadn’t brought it up because of that. 

“I’m not trying to blame you for it,” Tom said. “This is not a war, y/n, I’m just—I am pretty sure the reason you slept with him isn’t as far as the reason as to why I slept with Cherry.” 

She remained quiet.

“I slept with Cherry because I was lonely and I couldn’t find you, I thought that by pretending it was you, it would eventually be you but I was wrong because she’s not near you, and it’s not in her. It’s on me because I am deeply in love with you,” he explained. “My heart felt extremely lonely, and I thought that by pretending to love someone only for one night it would make it feel less pain, I was wrong, it hurt even more.” 

“He told you,” she said. 

“Last night yeah, but but but—I didn’t-“

She shut her eyes closed. “Is that why you—fucking kissed her?“

“I didn’t kiss her, she kissed me,” Tom reminded her. “This is not a war, y/n.” 

“You keep saying she’s the one to kiss you, but I remember clearly that I told you a kiss is always asked, at least with a glance,” she recalled. 

“I didn’t want to kiss her, and I’m sure you saw me push her off.” 

Y/N didn’t say anything. She only paced around the room again, her hands crossed above her chest, barefoot and silent trails. Tom watched her, wanting to know what the hell was going through her mind. She always seemed to always have a thought, usually they were dreams untold and secrets waiting to be whispered. Not now. He knew her mind was slowly deciding whether or not to destroy each other. 

Tom hoped they both had the same mentality. This is not a war, and it seemed to be like that. 

“You’re saying,” she started. “That you didn’t want to kiss her even after Tim told you we slept together.”

“Yes.” 

“You’re saying you didn’t do it to get back at me.” 

“I didn’t do it because—“

“Because you felt guilty,” she ended his sentence but not with what he wanted to say. 

“No, because I don’t want this to be another battle in a war where neither of us wants to win, because we both know it shouldn’t be a war.” 

She stared at him, she wanted to believe him. 

“I did sleep with him,” she stated. “Days after I knew you’d slept with Cherry,” she said. 

Tom felt a punch right into his throat, knowing he would be unable to word out his pain. 

“And I—he had been flirting, we both know he’s in love with me,” she sat beside Tom. “He usually knows how to mend my heart when it’s broken, and I am well aware of that, and—That’s what I needed, someone who would love me, because I felt like shit and he made me feel loved,” she gulped. “That’s the difference, you searched for someone you could love and I searched for someone who could love me.” 

Neither of them said anything.  Both of them assimilating, being careful enough of their words. 

“It’s only fair to ask this question,” Tom said after a while. 

Y/N only glanced. 

“Was he good?” Tom questioned with poison, getting an eye roll from y/n. 

“You see, the reason I asked that question wasn’t the same reason as why you’re asking it,” she pointed out. 

He shrugged. “What was your reason exactly?”

“I don’t want this to be a fight between us,” she continued. 

“What is this, then?” 

“It’s us against the problem, not you against me, Thomas,” she fumed. 

He nodded, “are we finally on that page, then?” 

Y/N didn’t know how to answer. She didn’t know how to handle him, not that he had to be handled but the situation was tarnishing her heart. She had, however, learned well enough that this wasn’t supposed to be them fighting and fighting. She’d thought about it, and though she was enraged, she wanted to solve it. It wasn’t a matter of what, it was a matter of how. The incomprehensible thoughts in her head were roaring too loud for her taste, but her heart, though hurt, wanted to try to get through with this. 

He had remained calm, too, so it didn’t matter for her. 

“Well, I am,” she said. “Or-I don’t, I just don’t know-” 

He watched her. “What do you want?” 

“It’s not simple, Tom, I’m heartbroken but I understand it but then again, of all people it was my cousin, and I don’t-I just showed that I am still not over the whole prank thing.” 

Tom looked away. 

“And I don’t want to go over that, you know? We’ve grown, we’ve-Yes, we’ve broken each other’s hearts, yes, we were idiots, we know that, but we also had feelings for each other--You were my first crush, first kiss, first love, first broken heart, and I don’t know, my reason tells me to let go, but-” 

“But your heart?” 

“My heart doesn’t know, part of it wants to leave and just give up on everything because god knows I can’t have another heartbreak and the other half--very stupid half believes in us.” 

“I believe in us.” 

“I’m not sure I do, look at us,” she sighed. “And I’m angry and I’m-” 

“May I just- we were not together while-” 

“Don’t bring that up,” she quickly interrupted. “No, we weren’t together but--It’s--It’s my cousin! You know what, I’m leaving I can’t-” She headed to the door, but Tom quickly followed after. 

“No, no, let’s talk about this, please,” he said, taking her hands trying to stop her. 

She stopped and turn around. “What can we even talk about this, Tom? We slept with other people who-” 

“We weren’t together,” he said. “You told me to move on-” 

“I didn’t, Tom!” She retorted. “I didn’t, you were the one to say you wanted to see other people, you were the one to suggest moving on.” 

“You left.” 

“I didn’t leave to get away from you,” she said. “You know that, I knew I had to be away, from you, from Harry- and you-” 

“You left with Tim.” 

“No, I didn’t, besides, I didn’t--” 

“Cherry means nothing,” he said. 

“She meant enough to jeopardize us,” she stated. 

He sighed. “I didn’t think there would be us again.” 

Y/N stayed quiet. She knew what he meant. But somehow didn’t know if he meant it by then or if he meant it now. She was tired, though they hadn’t talked as much, it was… exhausting, draining, going over this yet again.

“I know—That’s why I had to go search for someone else’s love because I thought I didn’t have yours anymore,” she said.

“I-well,” she coughed. “I’m not-I don’t think you understand why I’m angry.” 

“I think I do-” 

“No, you don’t, it’s not-that it was her, though yes, she’s my cousin, you really… couldn’t have fucked up more when choosing a rebound,” she said. “It’s--the fact that you thought you could replace me, the fact that you wanted to move on so quickly and I’m not--It’s not the fact that I didn’t want to move on, it’s just that-- You thought she could be me, and--” 

He shook his head. “I wasn’t trying to-” 

“No, you were,” she said, her eyes were tearing down and though he was trying to stop himself from crying, he let some tears fall down too, quietly. 

“I was an idiot,” he said. “But I didn’t think I’d be replacing you--Only a fool would think you’re replaceable.” 

She took a deep breath, avoiding his gaze. “I think that’s what I’ve been--What I’ve always tried to tell you, with… Timothée,” she said, no nicknames needed to be used. “It’s… though I… It’s never been him,” she said. 

“I never used him to replace you, though he was a good distraction, and I needed to… feel… Not replaceable.” She crossed her arms. “However, I’m still pissed off it was my cousin.” 

“Had it been anyone else—?” 

“Don’t go there,” she warned. “It would’ve been just as bad considering the situation. It makes it worse, yes, but you—Looked at her the way you looked at me,” she emphasized. 

He sighed. 

“Yeah, it’s not the same,” she pointed out. “Though I know that had I slept with anyone else you wouldn’t have cared as much.” 

Tom clenched his jaw but nodded defeated. “Yeah, I guess.” 

“Do you want me to explain—?”

“No, I don't need any details, I know enough,” he ranted. “However—I can see you didn’t go to him.” 

“I didn’t.” Y/N didn’t want to go over the details.

“I—have to be honest, kinda got into a fight with him last night,” Tom confessed. 

“I know, Emma told me, and she told me he was okay, that you only pushed him away,” she explained. “I didn’t ask any further but I didn’t ask you because I knew you’d be okay.” 

Tom stayed quiet, not knowing how to proceed. 

“Can we get out of this one?” He asked. 

“Dunno,” she admitted. “ I just know I still love you with every piece of my heart.” 

“I love you, too,” he admitted quietly. 

“I need a break,” She stated. Without any other warning. 

Tom didn’t like the idea, she could tell as he closed his eyes and took her hands. “No, no please, I--If we take another break then it’ll be definitive and-” 

“No I meant—a break from fighting I just—I have a headache I can’t,” she pushed his hands away and walked back. “I just-” She walked past him and headed to the kitchen. She hadn’t lied, she did have a headache, probably from the slight hangover and the lack of sleep, and added the stress and her heartache. It wasn’t her best ime. 

Tom  only followed after her, quietly watching as she poured herself a glass of water. It felt quiet. It was but it felt even more quiet. Y/N went through all the scenarios not sure which was the worst. They all hurt, some more than others. She wished she could erase every thought in her head. 

Tom opened the fridge, there was still cake that remained from two nights before, when they were still better. He took it out, and without thinking about it, he took out two plates, serving each a slice. She gave him a silent thanks, and then, they both remained on opposite sides of the kitchen. 

Though y/n usually found his hoodies warm, her skin was freezing. There had never been that much space between them though they were only feet apart. Because, though it was even what they’d done, they both knew that there was not much to do. Y/N would love to snap her fingers, hide all her pain and kiss him. To assure him that she loved him as much, wondering if their broken pieces of love was enough. 

“Where’s James?” Y/N asked, hating the sound of the cutlery hitting the plates. 

Tom looked up, “He left, he’d spend the day with Clark and Sam.” 

“So he’s on your side,” y/n pointed out. “Though there’s not really a side here.” 

“He’s not on my side.” 

She shrugged. “He said you had an awful night.” 

“I did but, so did you.” 

“Yeah.” 

He watched her. “In any case my brother is on your side.” 

She looked down at the cake. “He is.” 

Tom let out a dry chuckle. “Hey, I thought there were no sides.” 

“No, but he is on my side,” she said. 

Tom only scoffed. 

“I feel sorry for him actually, I think he was just leaving to go home to sleep and I made him stay up all night with me,” she admitted. 

“Yeah but it’s you so he doesn’t mind,” Tom said. 

She shrugged. “Emma kissed Josh,” she mentioned. 

“She did?” Tom blinked. “Wow, that must have hurt him.” 

Y/N only watched him with irony. 

“I mean,” Tom closed his eyes. 

“No, I know, but yeah, he was,” y/n commented. “I feel bad, I crushed his m&m’s.” 

He chuckled. “What?” 

“I-well, we had some m&m’s and I… crushed them,” she admitted with a tired, half smile. 

“Why?” 

“I was having a breakdown alright?” She chuckled. “And he went all ‘I wanted m&m’s” 

Tom took a deep breath. “Should get him some.” 

She gulped and saw Tom hadn’t eaten anything either, they were just pushing around the cake. 

Tom watched her, too, still noticing how she hadn’t taken off the ballerina hanging from her neck, and maybe it was the only sign he needed, he left the plate on the kitchen island and walked over, standing right beside her, leaning against the counter. Their arms were against each other’s, and eventually her head fell against him. He didn’t hesitate before wrapping his arms around her, she gave in to his touch, slowly and then hugged him back. Snuggling to get some kind of warmth. 

“You looked pretty last night,” he pointed out. 

She crooked into his neck. “You mentioned it.”

Tom glanced down. “I—yeah, I did.” 

Quiet again. He took a deep breath, and held her close again, placing a kiss on her forehead.

“Do you hate me?” He asked. 

“No, that’s the weird thing,” she said, letting him go and taking her spot back beside him. “I can’t  hate you.” 

He grimaced. 

“Being angry doesn’t make me love you any less,” she said. “Do you hate me?” 

“No. I could never. I love you.” 

She bit her lip. “Are we really--?” 

He turned to her. “What?” 

“Or are we just being stubborn enough to not want to give up?” She asked. “I… don’t know.” 

“I don’t want to lose you and the thought of it scares me enough,” he gulped. “And I… Before I run out of time to say the things I want to, I just need you to know that I’d choose you, though there are no other options, it all comes back to you.” 

Her eyes brightened up, just slightly. “It’s hard, Tom, I don’t know, but I don’t want to give up, but-” 

“I know,” Tom looked at her. 

It was so unbelievably hard. What if this was really their last time, that’s what they were both thinking but neither had the courage to ask it out loud. Love is so cruel. 

“Yet after everything, I’ve never loved anyone like I’ve loved you,” y/n said, mostly to herself. “And I am sorry I left in the first place.” 

“No, you had to, we had to…” He sighed. “We both made questionable things.” 

She didn’t want to break up with him. She didn’t want her days to run out of breath again, to see the streets full of garbage and she didn’t want to water any flowers that he hadn’t given her. And she wondered if they’d dare to call it off yet again life would find a way to bring them back together. 

“I don’t want to go back to… that feeling, when we were apart,” she finally said it out loud. She wouldn’t regret saying it, right? “Nightless and sunless days, and how time never stopped or it never kept going, it was just eternal… numbness.” 

Tom blinked, watching her. 

“But I also,” she sighed. “I don’t want this pain.” 

“Were you expecting it?” 

“What?” 

“The heartbreak?”

“I wasn’t, maybe that’s why it hit that hard… I guess I… Maybe I did, I just postponed it, thought that if I ignored it for long enough it would disappear.” 

“What will happen, then?” 

“I don’t know, these are relentless times, for now, try and haunt for reasons to make me believe I am still alive,” she gulped. “It sounds so dramatic but last night I just…” She felt that pain across her chest again. “I thought I had stopped breathing I…And it wasn’t the kiss really.” 

“What was it?” 

“The fact I remembered you had slept with her,” she said. “And that picture—“

He bit his lip, “I didn’t… You are the love of my life.” 

She chuckled softly to herself. “See? People only say that when they’re apologizing.” 

He sighed. “But-” 

“But you are mine, too,” she admitted. “Better or for worse.”

She didn’t know where he had gotten the courage to do it, but he had finally leaned over to kiss her. And it wasn’t idyllic, it wasn’t a happy kiss, but it was the reminder they needed, as if the kiss was only to remind why it was worth trying again. Y/N knew she was being an idiot, honestly. 

But only another fool would stop kissing him, and so she didn’t stop, because she knew this could be the last time. Tom probably thought so, too. Knowing about a last kiss can make it last longer and can make them both never letting go. Y/N just needed one last reminder than though her heart was aching and it had finally been ripped apart, she still had to believe that he loved her. Because he’d said it, right? And he was proving it to her with each kiss, caressing her cheeks, cupping her face, so delicately and so passionately. 

He didn’t want to let go, either. His hands went to her waist, pulling her as close as he could. Their lips were going so, very slowly. He pulled away once, only for her to keep kissing his chin, cheeks and finally his lips, so slowly, her arms around his neck. Neither of them were desperate, each stroke was measured, taking their time. As if they were dawdling and postponing the thoughts in their minds. Soothing their most probable goodbye. 

Y/N kissed him as if they were going to be infinite. As if no matter what would happen, they’d always be there. The kissing started to seem careless at some point, as if it didn’t matter how they were kissing anymore, it just mattered to have their lips connected, getting sloppier as his hands travelled under her-his sweatshirt to touch her skin, so cold. His hands landed on her waist. 

“You’re cold,” he pointed out in between kisses. 

She only pulled away, as if only then she realized what they were doing. He didn’t stop, his lips kept trailing its way all over her face, small, slow and soft kisses sweet enough for her to close her eyes. Gentle pecks, trying to gently cover each and every spot on her face. Y/n knew Tom had never been good with his words, he was more of actions, always being impulsive, and this showed it, his tender lips against her skin was his way of apologizing, of making her feel loved. 

However she had to back away. She had to be rational, she couldn’t let him just kiss her and forget about everything. 

She did back away. Because her mind couldn’t stop. It kept going back to him. To Cherry. And even to Tim. The latter being as if asking why she had done it herself. 

And she only tried to untangle herself from his grasp, he didn’t force it. He understood as she slowly walked her way back to his room. A place where she felt safer than in the kitchen. Not sure why. 

He stopped her mid-halfway, his chocolate eyes begging her again, pleading for an apology. Y/n couldn’t help it, his eyes were her biggest addiction. And so she gave in to him again, because though she loved using words and she knew it was her most powerful weapon, this was no battle, and so she’d kiss him to speak her truth. 

He slowly pressed her against the wall, his fingers traced her figure, sides, top and bottom, gently as if trying to memorize her shape, but as if his fingers already knew the path. Her breath halted as his lips brushed against her neck, soothing her cold body. He pressed his whole body against hers, and his hands found their way back inside her hoodie, fingers firmly pressing against her waist, threading lightly. She felt like they could be infinite if they tried to, if they wanted to. And just for that moment as his lips were finding their way back to hers, she forgot about her pain. 

His lips were meant to be with hers. There was no other way to say it. 

Somehow he managed to get her to his room, she was uncertain if she should keep kissing him. But there's something about each kiss that made them both not want to stop. Y/N had closed the door, though, Y/N felt like this was the last time. Did he think it was too and was that why he was being so delicate?

Pining for each other as he gently laid her down, he looked at her the way someone looked at the sky at night, as if he had first seen the stars for the very first time and was wondered by her. They were sharing a secret, they both knew. 

Desire was beyond his eyes as his hand travelled from her covered ankle, shriveling through her legs up all the way to her covered chest. She longed for his skin to be once against hers. But he was taking his time, trying to make sure she knew she was the only one he wanted to kiss. He then proceeded to take the same path with his lips as if he had meticulously painted it before. Placing soft pecks or running his lips against the covered skin. Y/N closed her eyes, as an inescapable  soothing pleasure washed her, not lust, his gentle poke sprinkling her with delight. 

He finally glanced up to her, his thumb gently rubbing circles on her cheek, his eyes linking with her, his eyelashes going up and down, pouring directly at her lips, her eyes. 

“I love you,” he stated, not expecting an answer back, as if it was merely an observation he was making to himself. One of those thoughts that escapes the mouth and dares to be said out loud.

“I love you,” he said again, now less as an observation but as a reminder to him, as if he was scolding himself. 

Her hands went to his face, brushing his cheeks. She wanted to say it back, too, but something stopped her. 

But she was thinking about it, she knew that. She felt it. 

But her heart didn’t want her to say it, as if saying it would be a sin. Why was she letting him kiss her? She could stop him. 

She didn’t want to stop him, that is. But her mind was so loud she could barely focus, and she didn’t have to focus.  

But then again, he was part of her own skin, her faith, her—everything. And though she knew this could be a mistake, it could be the last time and she wanted to make it last. Something to remember because they didn’t have anything to cling to. 

She waited for him, like the moon waits for the night, as his thumb then caressed her lips, preparing them only to tamper them with his. It was no secret that each kiss he gave her was unique but he had kissed her like never before. 

*

Though it was so familiar, the way she knew what he was going to do next as his hands went down to toy with the hem of her hoodie, shyly asking for permission just to go beneath it. But slowly he was pulling it up, with her help and then proceeded to take off his. Though slow they were both desperate to be against each other’s skin, the clothes burdened them and they both slowly decided to take them off, they looked better on the floor anyway. 

Y/N didn’t feel cold anymore though she was bare, only with her underwear  as Tom repeated what he’d done before, kissing his way from her thighs to her neck, burying himself there. She tried to turn him around so she could kiss him just as fine but he didn’t let her, his hand searched for hers as he linked them. 

She finally managed to push and roll him, now it was she’d time to memorize his own body, her fingers tickled him as she sat on top of him to watch him, they gently brushed against his stomach, his chest, barely even touching, just a tender grasp. His hands landed on her waist as he watched her, her hands exploring his body, all the way to his arms, he only gulped watching her as she felt the bulge grow beneath her, she hummed a chuckled before bending down to get his lips back to hers, delayed movements as she grinded against him, his hands went down to cup her ass, helping her rock and he bucked his hips to her. 

They had absolutely no hurry though their bodies were indicating the exact opposite, hiding their gentle moan against each kiss. 

“I love you,” she finally had whispered to him, but it sounded more like a goodbye that Tom didn’t want to hear yet. 

With his hands now going to her back, he turned her around, him on top as he reached to the nearest drawer. 

The unspoken words they both hid were agonizing but they knew they had to be kept unspoken. 

For now, at least. 

As he opened the drawer y/n could see the inside of it. She caught a glimpse of the letter she’d given him. But he finally found the condom and wrapped it on the hard that his boxers had been no help on hiding. 

Y/N only watched him position himself as he then looked up asking for a sort of permission, she only bit her lip as she tuck her hands behind her and finally took off her bra, he licked his lips and tooka deep breath, staring at the ballerina necklace in between each breast, he teased her with the tip and she arched her back. 

She bit her bottom lip, he slowly inserted into her, she let out a gasp with fascination as he filled her up, her hands landed on his back bringing him to her, nails digging crescent moons on him, he closed his eyes, throwing his head back. 

He draped her breasts with his hands before slowly rocking against her, their breaths fanning against the other, but it lingered and she wrapped her legs against him, toes curling with each  very move as she bucked herself against him, not holding back any moan and now as he sloppily tried to kiss her, not getting it and just lazily pecking her chin, her neck, sucking gently. Hands gliding up and down. She managed to get a grip of him as she bit his lower lip, so intoxicated by each other it’s almost pathetic. 

And their horrible thoughts had finally ceased—for a bit because they only needed each other, knowing that though what had happened had angered them, they belonged to each other, tangled into one, with sloppy kisses and messy movements, hearing their moaning as if they were a melody they could never get tired of. Soft grunts, struggling to keep any other kind of thought as they’re washed with pleasure. 

Thrust after thrust, lackadaisical at points where they’re not even caring, finger pressed to each other, vibrating each time, impossible for y/n to keep still as he drove in each time deeper. Hands still gentle but he is burning intensely against her, her irregular movements against his hip drive her close to the edge. 

He even had to clench to the headboard to get a steadier rhythm, but his other hand deliberately made sure that no part of her body remained untouched. The friction on each movement made y/n moan his name breathily. 

Tom groaned at his name and went in deeper, saying her name, in a faint whisper, fearing he’d run out of chances to say it again, and then his tongue connected with her flesh. 

“I can’t lose you,” he confessed breathily, tainted with love, finally saying what they’d both been thinking the whole time, but proud enough and—probably horny enough not to say it. 

The only response she can give him is a truthful “I love you, so much.” Because there was nothing more to it. She wasn’t sure if they were going to lose each other. “I don’t want to lose you,” she sentenced. Because that was another fact. 

Somehow that makes them go faster and more desperate, his hand stretching to go over where he needs him to be. Gasps, groans, grunts and moans combined with other words of praise to each other, senseless confessions of love that are enough to keep them going. 

Y/N didn't even realize with what push she finally reached her high, but with pleasure he kept going as she had let out a bright moan that had perfectly spelled his name. He followed after not so long, crashing against her one last time before he had to stop and not twitch against her, not pulling out as he plopped above her. Chests shimmering with sweat as they’re synchronizing their breathing, halt panting as she finds a hand through his hair, curling up with sweat. He finally pulled out and plopped right beside her. 

**

It gave her time to think then, right beside each other, quietly hearing each other breathing, covered in each other sweat. He pulled her close to him as her hand landed on his chest. She kept her lips pressed against him still, and his own lips were pecking her forehead. 

Neither of them wanted to say anything because they both knew that talking would lead to somewhere where they didn’t  want to go. Because talking had been all they've done before that and there had been no “I love you”s and there was no “I don’t want to lose you.” Talking meant they did want to lose each other and talking meant they still were angry. 

But they had to. And y/n was there, confused as how easily she gave up to him, hours ago she was crying and yelling, and her heart still ached but she was still sure she couldn’t keep herself from him. Plus, there was the fact he was directing her script. The one film she had dreamed of and now was a nightmare. What was she supposed to do? 

End the relationship? 

Weren’t they supposed to be infinite? 

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