#and he plugs in a space heater in the living room and in the bedroom

[pimento-playing-hopscotch]

Can we end January early?

And like I don’t mean start February, but have this next twelve days be a month less void-

Cause January has been too January this week 🫣🫣

[fanficimagery]

The Mikaelson Upgrade

When Elijah sends his sister to check on you during a harsh Winter, the Mikaelsons move you in with them.

Words: 7.4K  Author’s Note: So, I thought this was so good, but when I started editing it, I realized it was terrible lmao. But I need something to post, and this is the only completed thing I had. Sorry. 

With a basket half full of non-perishables and a case of water, you're standing on the opposite side of the grocery store and staring at their small selection of home hardware in hopes of finding something to weatherize your small apartment even further than it already was.

The central heat was out so you're going to be forced to use space heaters and you'd already glued some thin strips of foam all around your doorways to keep the drafts of winds out. This was only going to be your second winter in the apartment so you knew it could get cold, but this winter was predicted to be an extremely cold one and you wanted to be prepared.

The windows weren't the best insulated, so when you heard the trick about bubble wrap being plastered to the windows to help keep the heat in, you figured it was worth a shot. But as you stare at the prices of the different sized rolls, you sigh and realize you might just have to pile all your blankets atop you instead.

"Miss YLN?"

Your name being uttered startles you from your mental musings and you turn to the source. You stand a little taller at the striking figure looking so out of place in the hardware aisle. "Elijah! Hi," you sheepishly grin at him. "How are you?"

His lips twitch. "I'm doing well. And yourself?" He wonders. "I couldn't help but realize you looked quite lost in thought."

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment, but you chuckle nonetheless. "I was trying to determine whether or not it was worth it to buy the bubble wrap."

Elijah looks at the overly large rolls of wrap. "And pray tell what you would need so much bubble wrap for?"

"Winter is coming, Mr. Mikaelson, and I am merely a fragile human." He still doesn't get what you mean, so you elaborate. "I heard bubble wrap on the windows can help keep the cold out. I'm desperate."

"Ah. I see."

It doesn't look like he quite gets it, but you don't call him out on it. Instead, you say, "But I think it's probably cheaper to just hibernate under my blankets."

As you start to push your basket away, Elijah follows. "What about your parents? Surely you could stay with them during this harsh winter."

"Nah." You shake your head. "We're on shaky terms at the moment. My dad barely wanted to give me extra money for groceries, so I rather stay in my shitty apartment than live in a tense atmosphere."

From the corner of your eye you see Elijah looking at you, but you keep your own gaze forward. Then when you come to the checkout lane, he leaves you with, "If you need anything, my siblings and I are only a call away."

"Thanks, Elijah." You glance at him with a small smile. "Say hello to Rebekah and Niklaus for me, will you?"

"I will. Good evening, Miss YLN."

The first night of the winter storm is brutal. Within hours the temperature dropped drastically and the wind howled. Several feet of snow was predicted and your college professors all emailed that classes had been temporarily canceled due to the storm.

You tacked up tarps over your front door and back door, and even the front windows to your living room. You had unplugged every kitchen appliance you knew you weren't going to use and stowed them away, plugging in a small space heater that you left running on the empty kitchen counter. You had one heater in your bedroom that you only used when you slept, another heater in the bathroom that you only turned on before you showered, and another heater running in the living room where you spent most of your time.

All in all, what was once your favorite season is now something you desperately want to hurry up and be over with.

On the third day, you're trembling under three blankets debating whether or not it was worth it to get up and make yourself something to eat.

And just when you've decided that a nap sounds really good, there's a knock on your front door.

You quietly groan but refuse to get up.

Another knock sounds.

"If you're of the immortal population and friendly, then just walk in. It's too cold to get up," you mutter.

You hear the door creak open and the tarp crinkle as it's moved. "What the bloody hell is this?" You huff a laugh at Rebekah's disdain. "Honestly, YN, don't you ever listen?"

"Hmm?"

"Elijah told us about your situation. Klaus has had his minions watching your place-"

"Aw. He's had his hybrids out in this cold? What a dick."

"-and they called to inform us there wasn't much movement in here anymore. We're really worried."

"M'fine, Rebekah."

"You're not fine. You're bloody freezing!"

"Well, it is Winter, and I am only human."

Rebekah grumbles and you can only imagine the face she's making as you hear her footsteps walking around your apartment. "'Lijah said you didn't enjoy your apartment and now I see why." She sighs. "I don't see why he just doesn't make you part of the family already and move you in."

You tense and slowly pull the blankets down from covering your head. "What?"

She glances at you, feigning innocence. "What?"

"You just said-"

"No, I didn't."

"I could've sworn you said-"

"I said no such thing."

You narrow your eyes at your friend and she smiles a little too big. Then softly rolling your eyes, you cover your head once more to preserve your body heat under the blankets. "Well you've seen with your own eyes that I'm fine. I'm just preserving my body heat under the blankets."

The blankets are suddenly ripped from you and you whine. "Get up. Packs your bags. You're coming with me."

"Rebekah, no." You weakly grab for your blankets, only to be denied. "Just let me go to sleep."

She scoffs. "I'm afraid that if you go to sleep, you won't wake up again. Now go pack or I'll have the hybrids do it for you."

Your eyes sting with tears and a lump forms in your throat as you stare at your friend's no-nonsense expression, but you manage to keep your emotions in check as you pull yourself into a seated position. Then very slowly, you wrap a blanket around your shoulders and go do as you're told.

But you're so cold that Rebekah ends up doing everything for you as you sit on the edge of your bed. Your thoughts end up drifting off as Rebekah moves around you, your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier. Eventually you feel yourself slump over, but you're so tired that you can't open your eyes.

You do, however, hear your friend swear before she's talking to someone else. Most likely on the phone, your mind supplies. Then you're being lifted and moved so suddenly, only to be placed down in a seat. You're cold all over again, but then you hear a car heater get turned on full blast.

"Hold on, YN. I'll get you home and you'll feel better soon."

. . . .

When you're thrust back into consciousness, the first thing you hear is a crackling fire. Your eyelids flutter open and you find yourself in an unfamiliar room. Your confusion momentarily overrides your sheer terror at not knowing where you're at, but then the soothing baritones of a familiar voice instantly calms you.

"I thought I made it clear that you were to call should you need anything." You turn your head to find Elijah sitting by your bedside. "Rebekah doesn't think you'd have made it another night had you stayed in your apartment. She said your heart rate slowed down while she was packing your clothes and you passed out. You should have called."

You know Elijah is not scolding you, he's just stating facts, but hearing it so plainly scares you. Your bottom lip trembles as your eyes fill with tears and you quickly cover your eyes with your hands before the tears can fall. "I'm sorry." You sniffle. "I just- I didn't-" You shakily exhale and try to swallow down the lump in your throat.

A hand gently wraps around your right wrist, tugging your hand from your face. "It's fine. You're here now."

Your heart starts to pick up speed at his proximity, he having leaned forward. "I didn't think it'd be this hard," you murmur.

"Didn't think what would be so hard?"

"Being an adult." You sniffle some more. "I took a lot of stuff for granted while I was under my parent's roof and now? Struggling to make ends meet while being a college student absolutely blows."

Elijah's lips twitch at the sight of your pout. His eyes twinkle in the firelight and your breath hitches when he raises your hand to his mouth, his lips pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Well now you're under my roof. Sleep. And when you wake up, this room has its own private bath with all the hot water you can use up and all the food you could want down in the kitchen."

"That sounds nice." Your blinks get longer and longer until you eventually can't keep your eyes open anymore. "'Lijah?" You sleepily slur.

"Yes?"

"You're my favorite Mikaelson. Don't tell the others."

Right before the void takes you, you hear muffled laughter. "I won't. You have my word."

The next time you wake up, you remember where you are and hurry to the windows to look outside. What you see is beautiful, pure white everywhere, but it's also a bit scary because the longer you look at the snow, the quicker Elijah's words come back to haunt you.

Rebekah doesn't think you'd have made it another night had you stayed in your apartment.

This is the most snow you've ever seen in your life and you're suddenly really grateful for nosy friends. As you turn around to face away from the too white picture, you see an opened door leading to a bathroom. Elijah's other words float to the forefront of your mind and you immediately look around for your bags. But finding none anywhere leads you to scope out the dresser drawers and sure enough your clothes have all been folded and put away.

Shaking your head and what was no doubt Rebekah's doing, you gather a change of clothes and head into the bathroom. It's one of the most luxurious bathrooms you've ever seen, but then again these are vampires who are over a thousand years old. Of course they'd splurge to have only the best.

Once you locate the towels and realize the shower stall has everything you'd need, you turn on the hot water and strip the second you see steam rising.

The hot shower is absolute bliss and you almost don't want to get out once you're done. But other needs must be met when your stomach starts to grumble, so you get out and dress in a set of comfortable clothes that's both warm and presentable enough to be in the company of others.

When you eventually find your way to the kitchen, all three Mikaelson siblings are hanging around. Elijah is reading the newspaper, enjoying either a cup of coffee or tea, Rebekah is staring into the refrigerator, but Klaus is smirking directly at you.

"So Sleeping Beauty finally awakens."

"Very funny, Niklaus." You wrinkle your nose as you pass him, offering a small grin as you make your way towards Rebekah. You wrap your arms around her waist from behind, leaning the side of your face against her back. "Please tell me you guys have ramen? I want all the ramen in the world right now."

"We do. Do you want me to make you some?"

"I've got it. Just point me in the direction of the pots and ramen."

As you put a small pot of water to boil, you go through the cabinets to find some spices to season the ramen better. You pull out two slices of cheese from the refrigerator and then drop the noodles into water. You wait patiently for the noodles to become tender and then drain most of the water out. You add in all the seasoning before tossing the cheese atop the noodles, mixing it until it's all melted.

"That doesn't look like the ramen on the packaging," Rebekah says as she looks over your shoulder.

"Because when you're on a budget and your daily meals consist of ramen, you find ways to spruce it up," you muse. "Wanna try?"

"No, thank you."

"Elijah? Niklaus?" You then offer them some.

Elijah politely refuses whereas Klaus' nose wrinkles. "Smells foul, love."

"Really? It smells foul to the person who prefers munching on the hearts of those who betray him?" Klaus chuckles before quickly deciding to take his leave, claiming to have people to torment. Rebekah sighs and grumbles about going with him to make sure he doesn't get into too much trouble, and Elijah just grins from his place at the table. "Would you like some company?" You sheepishly ask.

"Please, be my guest."

Putting some noodles into a bowl, you grab a fork and then a bottled water from the refrigerator before setting it all down atop the table. Then pulling out your own seat, you sit cross legged before digging in.

At the first bite, you smile with your cheeks puffed out and happily wiggle in your seat.

Elijah chuckles. "Good?"

"Mhm." You twirl some more noodles on your fork before blowing on them and then shoving them into your mouth. With another groan, you grab a napkin to dab at your mouth before sipping your water. "I'm a pasta girl, in case you haven't noticed. I will try any pasta dish at least once and then repeatedly if I like it."

"Noted." Elijah smiles at you before his eyes fall back to the paper in his hands. After a moment, he asks, "So was the bedroom to your liking?"

"Yes! Thank you." You perk up a little, grinning. "I hadn't seen that room before, so I was a little confused when I woke up."

"I know. Your heart started to beat frantically before I spoke up."

"Ahh, the perks of being a vampire," you muse. Elijah chuckles and then the two of you fall into silence as he reads and you eat.

You finish your meal without any more interruptions and then walk over to the sink to wash your dishes.

"You know we have a dishwasher, correct?"

"Yes, but I like to do things by hand. Keeps me moving since I have no idea what to do here now that I'm not secluded to the couch for warmth."

"What about your classes?"

"Canceled." Turning off the water, you grab a towel to dry your hands. "Well, at least in-person classes had been canceled. Maybe I should check my email to make sure there are no online assignments that need to be completed."

"Yes, you wouldn't want to fall behind."

You blow a raspberry in his direction before leaving the kitchen and heading for your temporary room to collect your laptop to see if there's anything that needs to be completed.

On your third day with the Mikaelsons, you've taken over their library as you attempted to complete an essay one of your professors had assigned since the campus was still closed. Elijah consistently made appearances, grabbing a book and reading quietly as you researched and typed, and Klaus showed up occasionally to paint while you worked. Rebekah was the only one to drop in for minutes at a time, just long enough to make sure you took a break and gave your brain a rest.

You're reading through one of the many journals Elijah had hoarded from centuries ago when your cell phone dings with a text message. You ignore it, but then it dings again.

And again.

And again.

"Are you going to get that?" Elijah asks.

You startle at his voice, momentarily forgetting you weren't alone. "Yeah. I guess so." The text messages just keep popping up, one right after another, and you try to read them as quickly as you can. "What the-" You frown.

"What seems to be the problem?"

"I'm not sure. Caroline, Bonnie, and Matt.. they seem worried, I think," you tell him. "Each of them asking where I'm at and if I'm okay and-" Your cell ringing cuts you off. "My dad's calling." You quickly accept it. "Hello?"

"WHERE ARE YOU?!"

You flinch at the volume of his voice and even Elijah looks up from his book. "Dad? I'm- I'm at a friend's place. The apartment got too cold. Why? What's-"

"Your apartment is on fire!" Your head turns to quickly look at Elijah and he seems just as surprised as you. "We all thought you were inside. No one knew-" His voice cuts off with a sob.

"Dad, I'm okay. I'm fine." He continues to cry, and you do your best to console him. "How did a fire even start? I unplugged everything." You try to listen to your dad, but his blubbering is making no sense. But as you're on the phone with him, Klaus saunters into the room. As he passes you, you can't help but inhale deeply and then narrow your eyes. You know that smell. "Dad, let me call you back. I'll get to the apartment as soon as I can." You hang up and set your phone aside, leaning back into your seat with a sigh. "Niklaus, what did you do?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, love."

You look at Elijah, exasperated. "I believe Miss YLN is talking about the fact that you smell like smoke after she just got a very frantic phone call from her father who didn't know if she was dead or alive because her apartment is currently up in flames."

Rebekah saunters in next, expression a little too smug.

"Rebekah, please tell me you didn't have a hand in this either?"

"Well, it's not like you'd move in here otherwise." Her smug expression falls. "We did you a favor."

"You made me homeless," you deadpan. Then glancing at Elijah, you ask, "Can you take me over there? I need to see the damage."

"Of course."

"YN, we didn't-"

"I assure you we meant no harm," Klaus says. "We just thought-"

"I know what you thought, but you could have literally talked to me about leaving my shitty apartment rather than burn it down." Rebekah looks put out that you're not thanking her, and Klaus doesn't look apologetic at all, but it still makes you assure both of them that you're not angry. "I'm not mad, I'm just-" You trail off, sighing. "Please tell me you at least took out all my valuables before you set everything ablaze?"

Rebekah scoffs. "We're not amateurs. I took anything that might have sentimental value, all your clothes and all your electronics out the first night I brought you here."

You shake your head, unable to help the twitch of your lips. "You guys have been alive way too long if you thought burning down my apartment was the best way to approach me with the idea of moving in here." The two troublesome Mikaelsons start to grin when they realize you're not truly upset with them. "Now when we get back, I want all the chicken nuggets and fries from McDonalds."

"But the closest McDonalds is about twenty minutes away," Rebekah says.

"Then drive fast." Finally standing, you look to Elijah. "Ready?"

He nods. "After you."

. . . .

The street you live on- er, used to live on- is packed with police cars, an ambulance, and two different fire trucks. The street has been taped off, but after Elijah parks and the two of you approach the officers keeping nosy individuals away, you tell them that it's your apartment up in flames and they let the two of you pass.

Across the street from your burning apartment, your dad stands there with more police officers. You make a beeline for him, accepting his hug and giving the police your statement. Elijah stands by your side as you answer everything you're asked, giving his own statement to back up your claim that you had left the apartment days earlier.

When the questions are done and over with, you're left to helplessly watch as the fire devours the place you've known as home for the last two years. When part of the roof collapses and you flinch, Elijah tucks you under an arm and turns you so your face is pressed against his chest.

"Miss?" Elijah releases his hold on you and nudges you so you turn around. There's a firefighter addressing you. "Are you the owner?"

"I rent," you tell him. "The landlord is elderly. They wouldn't be out here."

"Oh. Okay. Um, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think the house is gonna be a total loss. I'm sorry."

"Figures." You sigh and then paste on a smile. "Thank you."

Just as you turn back towards Elijah, you hear your father sigh next. "Well, I guess this means you'll be moving back in until you find another decent apartment."

"Wow, dad, don't sound too enthused now," you deadpan.

He glowers at you before looking back at the dwindling fire, shaking his head. "Your mother won't be too happy that she'll have to put all her sewing supplies into storage, but I guess we'll just have to make do."

"You know what-"

"Mr. YLN," Elijah smoothly steps in, offering your dad a hand to shake. "I'm Elijah Mikaelson. It's nice to finally meet you, sir." Your dad seems to stand a little taller, puffing out his chest as he takes Elijah in before shaking his hand. "I just want to assure you that you and your wife have nothing to worry about. My family and I will happily take in YN. My sister thinks of her fondly and we have more than enough space for her to stay with us."

"Mikaelson, huh? Your family built that fancy mansion a few years back, right?"

Your eyes roll as you groan, "Dad."

But Elijah only smirks. "Yes, sir."

"Hmm." Your dad huffs. But seeing this as the perfect outcome, he then says, "Well if there's anything my daughter needs to attribute to, I'm sure I can offer some-"

"There's no need. All expenses for your daughter will be covered by my family and I."

You can see the relief obviously wash over your dad and it pains you just a little that he so easily let someone else take care of you. You're pretty sure if one of your older siblings needed help, your parents would move Heaven and Earth for them. But for you? Apparently, your old room was just too much to ask for. "And on that note, Elijah and I will be going." You glance at your apartment, swallowing down the sadness threatening to overwhelm you. "There's nothing left for me here anyway."

Suddenly reaching for Elijah's hand, you start to tug him in the direction of his car. You wave at your dad over your shoulder, barely uttering a goodbye to him.

And then once you're in the quiet of Elijah's car, he asks, "Are you okay?"

"Not really, but what can I do?" You shrug. "Can you just drive? I don't want to be here anymore."

"Of course."

He turns the heater up in the car when he hears your teeth chatter, and you wrap your jacket around you more tightly. You let the warmth wash over you and allow your eyes to close, only opening them when he quietly tells you that you're back home.

Home.

Your eyes snap open as you stare up at the Mikaelson mansion.

Home.

You giggle in disbelief as your mind tries to comprehend how once you were enemies with the Mikaelson family, and now here you sit in the company of one as he calls his home your home as well.

Home.

"I guess this is home now, huh?"

"Yes."

Your lips twitch in amusement. "Then let's get inside. Rebekah and Niklaus better have my chicken nuggets ready for me to devour."

Elijah chuckles before using his vampire speed to exit his side of the car, only to end up on your side to open the door for you. He offers you a hand so you can easily climb on out as he grins at you. "And fries. You can't forget those."

"It'd be blasphemous to forget the salty, potato-y goodness which means I can almost guarantee Niklaus forgot them because he likes to see me suffer." You sigh sadly with a shake of your head. "Do you think the waterworks will get me dessert?"

"It's worth a shot. Shall we?"

As Elijah then offers you the crook of his arm, you hook your arm with his. "We shall."

As it turns out, Niklaus or Rebekah didn't forget the french fries. The table was laden with multiple boxes of nuggets and cartons of fries, and when Rebekah produced the small fried apple pies, you nearly cried.

Nearly.

The snow eventually tapers off as the temperatures settle back into what they usually are around this time of year, and classes resume in person. You have no issue driving yourself to and from school, but when your car starts to rattle and the vampires in your life urge you to take it into the shop, Elijah has no issue driving you to and from the college campus.

And though you were skeptical about living with the Mikaelsons in the beginning and had to deal with conversation after conversation from Bonnie and Caroline, you find yourself enjoying the freedom that comes with not having to worry about bills or what your next meal is going to be.

In fact, you get so comfortable that more often than not, Klaus or Rebekah find you cuddled up next to Elijah as you read a book or with your legs draped over his lap as he reads and you work on something on your laptop. They always shoot you knowing grins, but you wave them off and throw all your focus into your assignments.

One morning, as you're making yourself some breakfast, Rebekah saunters into the kitchen.

"Oatmeal and berries?" She asks.

"Mhm. Want some?"

"No, thanks." You take your bowl to the island bar where your laptop sits open on a document you're meant to be reading and take a seat on a stool. Before you can even get the first spoonful of warm gooeyness into your mouth, you hear Rebekah ask, "So where's my brother?"

You freeze with the spoon halfway to your mouth. "First of all, you have two brothers. And second, how should I know? I'm not either of their keepers."

"Elijah, darling. Do keep up."

"Oh." You shove the spoon of oatmeal into your mouth and shrug. "I dunno. He said something about meeting with someone and that he'd see me later."

"Mhmmm." You can feel the heat of her stare boring into the side of your head and busy yourself momentarily with your oatmeal and berries. "Can I ask you something?"

"You're gonna ask it either way, so yeah. Go ahead."

"Why Elijah and not Niklaus?" You inhale in surprise, choke on a berry, and immediately reach for your coffee. Only that seems to be a mistake as the drink is still too hot and you end up spluttering the coffee and oatmeal down the front of your shirt. Rebekah laughs.

"Goddammit, Rebekah!"

"It's a simple question."

"Yeah, I know, but-" You take the napkins she's offering you and sigh when you see your shirt is stained after dabbing away the mess.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Why Elijah and not Niklaus?" She asks again.

When you glance up at her, you see her amused grin and know she won't let this go. You're pretty sure the crush you have on Elijah is obvious to everyone under the Mikaelson roof, but Elijah's polite enough to not bring attention to it, so you settle for telling her the truth. "Don't get me wrong, both your brothers are smoking hot."

"But…?"

"But Niklaus is too chaotic for me. It's fun to hear about the drama he stirs up, but not so much when you're dragged into it. And Elijah… Elijah has this calm aura to him and can hold a serious conversation that doesn't devolve into murderous schemes unless it's to protect someone he holds near and dear. I just- I don't know. I'm more at ease around Elijah."

"Well, that's harsh, love." You freeze, Rebekah smirks, and you slowly turn to find both brothers standing there under the archway. Klaus' expression matches Rebekah's whereas Elijah is smiling a little guiltily. Knowing you were set up to admit that aloud, you sigh and go back to your oatmeal, but not before glaring at Rebekah. "I hate you."

"Pure lies," she muses. "And you're welcome."

"That's enough, Rebekah," Elijah calls out. "Let us leave Miss YLN be while she finishes her breakfast and her work. I'm sure you have locals to terrorize."

Rebekah rolls her eyes with a sigh and your lips twitch as she reluctantly leaves you be. You glance over your shoulder at Klaus, only for him to wiggle his eyebrows at you before following Rebekah.

And then when you look at Elijah, he grins. "Shall we talk when you're ready?"

"What if I'm never ready?"

"You will be."

"No need to sound so smug."

"How can I not be when I can hear your heartbeat race?" Your face starts to flame. "Or easily detect when the blood rushes through your veins?"

"Okay, I get it." You shift nervously in your seat. "We'll talk soon, just not right now." Elijah nods. "Now get out of here before I demote you to Mikaelson #2."

"Now we all know that's a bold-faced lie." You narrow your eyes at his smirk. "But I will leave you be. Until then…"

As Elijah takes his leave, you heave a great sigh. With your heart racing and face feeling more than a little warm, you try your best to focus on finishing your food and the passage you're meant to be reading.

For a week, every time Elijah walks into a room that you're in, you can't help the way your heart speeds up. Every vampire in the house does their best to hide their amused smiles, but you see them nonetheless and stew in your embarrassment until you finally realize you have nothing to be embarrassed about.

Elijah knows of your attraction towards him and wants to speak of it rather than immediately turning you down. So, in your book, that's a positive sign that he feels the same.

Hopefully.

Then by the second week, you're back to sharing the library with Elijah as you work, and he reads. And it's during this week that you end up with your head resting on his thigh as you attempt to read a non-school related book, only to end up sighing as you let the book fall closed over your chest.

"So, vampirism…" You say, waiting until you know you have his attention. When he hums, your lips twitch. "What's your take on it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've met some vampires who are all about vampirism and only have good things to say about becoming one, but I've also met vampires who completely hate what they are and the thought of creating more." You look up at him, shrugging. "I know you're completely fine with your existence and other vampires, but what's your take on me possibly becoming one?"

He tenses and immediately looks down to meet your gaze. "Is that- is that something you want?"

"What's the point in pursuing a relationship with a vampire if I'm human? I'll age, you won't."

"Would becoming a vampire solely be based on the fact whether or not we pursue a relationship?"

You snort. "No."

"No?"

"No." You sit up, but don't move too far. You turn so your body is angled towards the smartly dressed vampire you'd just been using as a pillow. "Elijah, I've been thinking about vampirism for a long time now. I've just been too chicken to ask for it."

"Why?"

"Healthcare is expensive." Elijah's expression slackens in surprise and you grin. "I'd like to live a life without worrying about throwing myself into debt just because I get an infection or need surgery."

"So, you'd want to become a vampire, not for the everlasting youth or powers or to date another vampire, but because you don't want to pay for healthcare?"

"Yep."

Elijah laughs. "Oh sweetheart, you are something else."

"Mhm. But no turning until after I've graduated. I don't want to attend classes and accidentally kill another student for annoying me."

"If that's what you wish, then we'll revisit this discussion later on down the line."

"Okay. But first I just need to see what I'm missing out on." Elijah must have been anticipating your next move because he merely smiles as you lean forward, one knee digging into the couch cushion as you then lean over him. Your hands gently grasp either side of his face so you can kiss him, and you quietly groan when he immediately grants your tongue entrance. His hands reach for your waist, guiding you towards him until you're perched on his lap. "Fuck."

You barely pull back just enough to catch your breath, your hands settling on his shoulders while his hand reaches up to trace the left side of your face. "Is your curiosity sated?"

"For now." You lean in to peck his lips once more and then pull back, reluctantly climbing off his lap. "Now I'm gonna go take a cold shower less I say something stupid and beg you to take me to bed."

He grins at you. "I see no issue with you begging."

"I'm sure you don't." You return his teasing grin. "But when our first time together happens, I want all of you. I don't want you holding back."

"Graduation is still a ways away," he muses. "Are you capable of that much restraint?"

You allow your gaze to look him up and down, and swipe your tongue across your bottom lip. Elijah smirks as you sigh wistfully and then you shake your head clear and head for the exit. "I'm gonna have to invest in a goddamn vibrator."

Elijah's laugh follows you all the way up the stairs.

As the months pass, you do your best to keep things calm between you and Elijah, but the tension between the two of you only continues to thicken. In fact, it isn't long before his siblings figure out something has happened. Klaus is the first to realize, but Elijah is a pro at redirecting the conversation and you only manage a whimper when his attention turns to you. And then when Rebekah picks up on what's going on around her, it isn't long until you cave and blurt out your entire conversation with Elijah, as well as the kiss.

Rebekah thinks it's cute that you're putting yourself through so much torture just so her brother can properly rail you into the mattress, and Klaus takes great pleasure in teasing the two of you.

But you hold strong, only slipping up here and there when Elijah looks just too good for you to resist, but never actually sleep with him. He takes what you give, chuckling when you whimper and groan when you have to walk yourself back to your room.

Graduation is then upon you and your family surprises you by showing up since you hadn't really spoken to any of them since your apartment burned to the ground. You're subjected to dinner with them, which means the Mikaelsons are subjected to dinner as well since you strongly urge them to tag along, and it's an all-around awkward night.

Your mother then manages to turn the dinner into a tense one by asking what kind of career you're going into with your chosen degree, and Elijah is quick to shut that conversation down by telling your mother you have a year to think on it since he has an all-expenses paid vacation planned for you after you've studied your ass off these last few years. That, in turn, leads to your mother scoffing and quietly berating you for riding your boyfriend's coattails, and Klaus stuns everyone by basically calling your mother a jealous cunt.

Graduation night ends with Elijah and Rebekah having to compel your family to forget the tense moments.

Days later you're surprised to learn that the vacation Elijah told your mother is actually real, and Rebekah helps you pack even though she won't be going on this trip with you- it's just you and Elijah.

Flying first class is an experience you'll never forget, nor the trip Elijah took care to plan so you could see the world and experience different cultures.

One Year Later

It's been a while since you've stepped foot in Mystic Falls and you're unsurprised that it's unchanged. Small towns are filled with people with small minds, and no one liked change when your town was as pretty as Mystic Falls.

Elijah opens your door when he parks in front of your home, and you take his hand as you climb out. Then leaning up, you press a kiss of thanks to his lips before moving past him.

"Happy to be home?" He asks.

"Yes. As much as I loved traveling the world with you, there's just something about my own bed that I was missing."

"Well, you're going to continue to miss it because you'll be moving into my room."

Your eyes roll fondly. "And you call me the impatient one."

"Yes, well…" Elijah steps right in front of you, tilting your head upward so his thumb drags your bottom lip from between your teeth. "Can you blame me?"

"Nope. I know I'm adorable."

Chuckling, he places another quick kiss to your lips. "That you are. Now let's get inside. I'll get some of Niklaus' associates to bring in our bags."

"I'm only agreeing with you right now because I want to see your siblings. Otherwise, I'd be grabbing my own bags."

"If you say so, sweetheart."

Stepping back, you practically skip to the front door and throw it open. "Honey, we're home!" You call out.

Your moment of happiness is interrupted when a hand is immediately wrapped around your throat, and you're slammed into a wall. It all happens within a split second and your eyes widen as you see Damon Salvatore hiss in your face, only to then find three very pissed off Mikaelson's at his back. "You won't heal Elena? Maybe you need a little motivation then." Damon growls, shaking you a little.

Your hands grasp at Damon's wrist, nails raking against the exposed skin there. "W-What?"

"Your new little family is refusing to help Elena," he sneers. "Maybe if their pet human is threatened, then maybe we'll get somewhere."

You make a show of being in discomfort with his hand around your neck before you cave and laugh. Klaus and Rebekah freeze, and Elijah loosens his stance as he slowly grins at you. "So, Elena decided to be a dumbass and now you want the Originals to clean up her mess? What'd she do now?"

"Got herself bitten by a little wolf," Rebekah hesitantly muses. "How are you-"

But Damon frowns as he quickly looks you up and down. "Why are you laughing?" He squeezes your throat a little tighter, but it merely causes your smile to grow.

"Because you underestimate me, Mr. Salvatore." Your smile vanishes just as quickly as you grab his wrist in your own grasp, snapping it backwards and sending the vampire to his knees. Then with a swift kick to his chest, you send him sailing across the room. "You underestimated me as a human and now you underestimate me as a vampire. Never put your hands on me again."

Damon is quick to speed to his feet, cradling his already healing limb as he stares at you in disgust. Rebekah and Klaus, however, look prouder than ever as Elijah walks up to your side, letting his fingers trace one side of your face before he kisses your forehead.

"So, you're a vampire now?" Damon huffs. "All that means is that when your guard dogs aren't around, I can torture you now without your pathetic little heart giving out."

"And that's where you're wrong." Using your newfound speed, you manage to make a dent in the wall where you shove Damon against before tossing him into the glass coffee table and shattering it. Then standing over him, you place your foot on his chest to prevent him from getting up. "You see, Elijah has always known I'd be a target for fools like you. So, when I turned, some of his friends who were looking for a favor from the noble Original made it so I also have the strength of an Original." You slowly smirk as reality sinks in for Damon. "So, you can come at me all you want, but I'll just end up putting you on your ass again and again and again."

He struggles to get out from under you, but you put more pressure on his chest to keep him in place. "Elena's your friend. You should want to help her!"

"Wrong. She stopped being my friend the moment her dumbass ended up sired to your sorry ass. Her messes are her own." You press down on his chest again until he groans and then speed back to Elijah's side where you end up tucked beneath his arm. Then glancing at Klaus, you smile sheepishly, "Sorry about the wall and table. I'll do my best to replace it."

Klaus' dimples are on full display before he lets his laugh echo around the room. Rebekah's tinkling laugh isn't too far behind. "Welcome to the family, love. And don't worry about the mess. Watching you throw around Damon was spectacular." You grin as you hear Damon huff and then Klaus turns to him. "Just this once, Salvatore. I'll help you just this once because YN has put me in a better mood. Any future bites and your doppelganger is dead."

"Fine. We'll take it."

As Klaus disappears with Damon, you turn to Rebekah who has her arms crossed over her chest and hip cocked to the side. "So how long did you last?"

"Three months."

Her eyebrow arches. "Only three?"

"I could have gone longer, but I might have goaded your brother."

"With what?"

"Rebekah, I don't think-"

You slowly smirk at her. "I told him I had this fantasy of him bending me over the railing at the top of the Eiffel Tower and he cracked. He made preparations for my turning almost as soon as we got back to our hotel."

"Okay that's enough." Elijah scoops you up just as his sister cackles and you find yourself being tossed on his bed a moment later as he crawls over you. As you grin up at him, he asks, "Did you have to share that with her?"

"Girls talk, handsome. Get used to it." You lean up, kissing him. "And besides, you're lucky Niklaus wasn't here."

"Rebekah will tell him."

"And he'll tease us until you and I decide to christen every surface in this room." You kiss again. "And the library." Another kiss. "And maybe even the kitchen."

"YOU WILL NOT BRING YOUR NAKED SELVES INTO THIS KITCHEN!" Rebekah's shout interrupts your final kiss, and you laugh as you fall back against the bed.

"Let him tease. He's the one who'll have to listen to us."

"AND ME!"

You giggle as Elijah sighs, lowering his body over you so he can rest his forehead against yours. "Maybe I should build another house for us."

"Absolutely not. I love you and I love your family. If we have to deal with them teasing us about our sex life, then so be it. It's not like they're so innocent themselves."

"You love me?"

"Always." You kiss him. "Now get up. I say the first place we christen is that fancy bathroom of yours."

Elijah is up within a split second, tugging you along.

Downstairs, Rebekah is fixing herself a mug of tea and blood when your giggles reach her ears. The giggles soon turn into a moan, and she grimaces. "Bloody hell. If I knew they were going to be this randy, I'd have invested in noise canceling headphones."

[windowlessatmosphere]

I Belong in Your Arms

Read on AO3

Summary: Prapai has been gone for more than a week now on a business trip, and Sky's trying not to miss him too much. He ends up wearing Pai's jacket just to be able to feel a little closer while they're so far apart.

It was a little ridiculous, Sky thought, that Prapai being out of town was taking this much of a toll on him. Before they’d met, Sky had been perfectly fine living alone, studying alone, eating alone, and sleeping alone. Now, though, all he could see were the glaringly obvious spaces where Pai was supposed to be. Nobody was putting his books back in the wrong places, or draping themselves over his back while he worked. Pai wasn’t there to sneak extra bites into his bowl or curl around him at night, acting as his own personal space heater.

Sky had even resorted to staying at Prapai’s place while he was gone. He’d justified this to Pai by pointing out that most of his stuff was there anyway, and there was no point lugging everything back to his own place for a week and a half before bringing it back again. Prapai had just smiled indulgently and kissed him on the forehead. “You never need a reason to stay here, my Sky,” he’d told him softly, eyes twinkling. “I’m glad you like being here.��� Sky had hit him lightly on the chest at that, denying it repeatedly until Pai had laughed and kissed his forehead.

So there he was, in Prapai’s place, wondering if he maybe should have stayed in his dorm after all, given how everything around him was reminding him of Pai. He’d already been gone over a week, and Sky had gotten calls every day, and texts consistently, but he still felt an ache inside him that he didn’t see going away until Prapai returned.

Sky shook his head, trying to snap out of his reverie, needing to focus on the model in front of him. It was taking him way longer than it would have normally, given that he couldn’t stop checking his phone to see if Pai was through with his meeting. Prapai always let him know ahead of time when he wouldn’t be able to respond, so that Sky wouldn’t worry. He couldn’t help the smile that came over his face as he thought about it, shaking his head again to try and focus on his work.

After ten very distracted minutes, he huffed, setting his phone to the side for what seemed like the hundredth time. Finally, he stood up, grabbing his phone and heading into the bedroom. He plugged it in and set it on the bedside table, directly on the wood so he could hear it from the other room if it vibrated. Maybe now he’d get some work done without having to stop and check his phone every two seconds, he thought.

He started to head back to the other room, stopping when he realized the closet door was slightly open. Sky kept some of his clothes in Prapai’s closet, and must have forgotten to close it after getting dressed that morning and running out the door. He headed over to close the door before the smell of Prapai’s cologne hit him as he neared the closet. The ache deepened, and he wished more than ever that Pai didn’t have to stay for two more days. Sky lingered in the doorway, inhaling Pai’s scent as he did so. A flash of red caught his eye, and he recognized the motorcycle jacket Prapai wore to race in. He’d never said as much to Pai, but he liked the racing suit about as much as Rain did. Sky debated for a second before slipping into the closet and grabbing the jacket. It’s not like anyone would see him, and having Prapai’s scent near him might keep him from missing his boyfriend enough to finish his project.

He got back to work, pausing every once in a while to press his nose into the collar of the jacket, where Pai wore his cologne. It seemed to help somewhat, having a piece of him to keep close while they were apart. He was just about finished when he heard the faint noise of his phone vibrating in the bedroom. Putting down the piece he was holding, he hurried to his phone, trying to remind himself that it wasn’t necessarily Prapai texting. He picked his phone up from the bedside table, smiling as he read the notification.

Prapai Meeting just finished. Have you eaten?

Sky No, not yet. Working on a project.

Prapai I’ll order you something. Should be there in 20. ♥️

Sky smiled down at the phone, shooting off a quick thank you text to Pai, adding a few heart emojis before deleting all but one. He debated sending a text saying “miss you” as well, but didn’t want Pai feeling guilty while he should be focusing on work.

He took his phone back into the other room with him, just in case they texted instead of knocking when the food was delivered. After about fifteen minutes or so, he finally put the finishing details on his project, leaning back and rolling his neck out.

He figured the food would show up soon and started scrolling through Instagram while he waited. A knock on the door interrupted him after a bit, and he got up to go grab the food. He opened the door to reveal a grinning Prapai, hands full of takeout and a suitcase beside him. The grin dropped off of Pai’s face as soon as Sky opened the door, so quickly it would have been comical if Sky hadn’t been so surprised.

“P’Pai!” Sky flung himself into his boyfriend’s arms, causing him to let out a startled laugh. Pai hugged him back as best he could while holding the food. “You’re early,” Sky murmured into Prapai’s chest, perfectly content not to move for an hour or so.

“I…yes—I’m, yes, well—” Prapai broke off again and Sky pulled back, concerned and remembering the strange expression on Pai’s face as soon as he had seen Sky.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, gently placing a hand on the side of Pai’s face.

“Nothing! I just—it’s—you’re wearing—”

Sky glanced down at his clothes in confusion, only then realizing that he was still in Prapai’s motorcycle jacket. He felt his face warm and looked to the side, steadily avoiding eye contact with Pai.

“Sorry, I’ll put it back,” he apologized. “I just…missed you.”

Prapai made a wounded sound at that and wrapped his arms around Sky, arms still full of food. Sky suddenly realized they were still in the doorway and pulled back, taking one of the bags of food from Pai.

“You should come in,” he pulled on Pai’s arm gently. “Suitcase,” he reminded, when it became clear it was about to be left outside. Prapai turned on his heel, grabbing his luggage with his free hand, a dazed expression still clear on his face. He left the suitcase by the door and put the food on the table, next to where Sky had put the rest of it. As soon as his hands were free, they were on Sky’s waist, pulling him against Pai and sliding underneath the jacket.

“I missed you, honey,” Prapai was staring at the jacket with that strange expression still on his face.

“I missed you, too,” Sky leaned in to peck him on the cheek, getting slightly frustrated when Pai’s eyes remained fixed on his torso. “I can take it off now, if it’s bothering you that much,” he offered.

“No!” Pai blurted out all at once. “I mean, it’s fine. I don’t…mind?”

“It’s not a big deal,” Sky laughed, mollified with how horrified Pai seemed at Sky realizing he didn’t want him wearing it. “You’re possessive over your clothes, it’s fine, I’ll take it off.”

“I’m possessive over you,” Pai corrected. “I like you in my clothes.”

Realization dawned over Sky, and he began to retroactively understand Pai’s behavior since he’d opened the door. He snorted, shaking his head at his boyfriend and wondering how he could have mistaken it for anything else. He pulled Prapai back in for another hug, squeezing him as tightly as he could to convey how much he’d missed him. “I’m glad you’re back,” he murmured, feeling a hand come up to stroke his hair. A thought occurred to him. “Why are you back? I thought you were supposed to be gone two more days?”

“We managed to finish up early,” Pai explained. “I had very good motivation to get it done quickly,” he added, pulling back just enough to kiss Sky softly. Sky smiled into the kiss, feeling tension leak out of his frame as he did so.

“Have you eaten?” Sky asked, breaking the kiss to lean his head into the crook of Pai’s shoulder.

“Not yet,” Pai answered. “I wanted to eat with you.” Sky melted a little at that, trying and failing to not let it show on his face. Prapai beamed at him, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Let’s eat, then,” Sky turned away, flustered.

“Can’t I show you how much I missed you, first?” Pai pouted, lower lip sticking out as he slowly blinked his eyes.

“After.” Sky swatted at his arm playfully. “Food first.”

“But–”

“P’Pai!”

“...okay. Food first.”

[writingsofmax]

Disarm pt. 14

Words: 5.1K

Summary: Edward and Y/N hang out at home and try to talk about Edward's plan and everything that has happened.

Tags: angst, guilt, hurt/comfort, chronically ill reader, anti-social Edward, obsessive thinking, CARETAKING

warnings: depictions of illness, panic attack, canon-typical description of orphanage stuff

Chapter 14- The World Is A Vampire Sent To Drain

Y/N woke up, cold sunlight streaming in through her bedroom’s frosted windows. She stretched, and pulled the covers tightly around her, reluctantly opening her eyes. She quickly realized that she was alone in the bed. 

There was a vintage card sitting on her nightstand, alongside her pills with a glass of water. He did leave, she realized. Her heart sank as she reached for the card. It depicted a crying kitten in an old fashioned nurse uniform. You being sick is a cryin’ shame! Get well soon. I love you. She blinked and flipped it over. On the back was Edward’s handwriting with some doodles of eyes and hearts on it. I stepped out to get food for us and some other things as well. I will be back soon. I love you. Y/N let out a relieved sigh and set the card back down on the table. She could hear rustling coming from the kitchen. She took her meds on the side table and then kicked her blanket off, putting her feet on the floor. She noticed that her room wasn’t as cold as it had been before. “Eddie?” she called, cautiously. “In here!” She heard him answer from somewhere in the apartment. She sighed, relaxing her shoulders before getting up. They had a lot they needed to talk about today and she was finally feeling good enough to discuss it. She walked down the hallway, apprehensiveness growing with every step. She paused and hovered in the doorway of the kitchen, watching as Edward stocked the fridge, pulling food and drinks from grocery bags on the floor. He was obscured by the fridge door, and didn’t notice her watching.

She looked around the kitchen and found that it was practically sparkling from how clean it was. Looking past the kitchen into the living room she felt her face grow warm when her eyes landed on a vase of fresh flowers on the coffee table.

The corners of her lips moved into a half-smile when she noticed he had brought over two space heaters as well. One of them was already plugged in, in the living room, working hard to warm the air in her frigid apartment.  “Good morning,” she greeted Edward, shyly. Edward leaned back and peeked at Y/N from behind the fridge door. “O-oh, good morning!” He quickly finished putting things away and shut the fridge door, standing up and leaning against the appliance with his arms crossed. “I, um––I went out this morning,” he stated. “I couldn’t really sleep, so I decided to pick up some breakfast food for us from the diner, and some easy things that I can make for you since you didn’t have food here and—Oh yeah, I got space heaters too down at the hardware store since your apartment is so cold, and that can’t be good for you—but don’t worry, because I can pay for the extra electric fee… Although, that shouldn’t even be a thing because your apartment should have been warm and liveable anyway, but who can trust landlords to actually do their jobs? It's alright though, it's not a big deal and anway are you warm enough?” he rambled, looking down at the space between them. “Oh—Yes, I am. I noticed that it was warmer right away, thank you,” Y/N answered. “But are you... okay, going outside? Won’t you get…” she trailed off, the unspoken question hanging heavy in the air. Edward regarded her for a moment, the corners of his mouth turning downward. “It’s fine,” he answered firmly, turning to the bags of takeout sitting on the counter. “No one knows who I am, or that I’m…” he ended his statement with a vague hand gesture. Y/N rubbed her arm, furrowing her brows, anxiety starting to grow in the pit of her stomach. “And is that going to change? Or what's your plan here?” Y/N asked, worriedly. Edward didn’t answer at first, instead fixating on putting all of the food he had brought from the diner out on the living room coffee table. He moved very quickly, Y/N noticed. “Eddie?” Y/N asked again, quietly. He seemed upset by her line of questioning and she wasn’t sure how to approach the subject. Edward sat on the couch in the living room and patted the seat next to him. Y/N hesitantly followed and sat. His eyes seemed to have an air of sadness to them as he ran a hand through his hair.

“I’ll answer any questions you have, but I think we should eat first before discussing...” He paused for a moment, frowning. “... Everything.” At the mention of eating, Y/N looked at the table. There were a variety of containers carefully placed around the flowers he had gotten. There was french toast, bacon, eggs, pancakes, hash browns, and even more containers unopened. It seemed like he had practically bought everything off the breakfast menu, she noted. 

It did smell really good and, for the first time in days, she actually had an appetite. “Okay, we’ll eat first,” Y/N agreed. Normally when the two of them would eat together, their dining would be punctuated by conversation. Edward would ask her questions or riddles and she would try to answer them. Other times the two of them would talk about books, politics, Gotham, art, or music. The two of them could talk and discuss their ideas for hours. Today though, they just sat in heavy silence as they ate. Y/N felt sad. They were together again, yet everything felt so different. They both seemed uncomfortable. She wasn’t making a move to talk, but Eddie sure wasn’t either. He would barely even look at her. She looked at the flowers on the table and her heart clenched. Had Eddie gotten them for her, as part of his apology perhaps? And all of this food?

It seemed that he really was trying, but she was unsure. Maybe he had meant what he said the other night, she thought, the pain in her chest returning. He did seem standoffish this morning, like he was keeping his distance from her. It was hard to believe that the person that had bludgeoned the Mayor to death had also gone and picked out a bouquet of flowers just for her. Well, not just bludgeoned the Mayor to death— he had brutally killed two others.

Y/N set her fork down as her food threatened to come back up. She had watched Eddie’s “trials” on TV more than once because the news during the past week had just been 24-hour coverage of the Riddler. He had put a bomb collar on Coulson, and she could hardly even think about what he did to the Commissioner––with the rats. And what did all of this say about her? That she was in this apartment, sharing food with him, acting like everything was normal?  She should have noticed that something was wrong when they first started seeing each other, but she hadn’t. Looking back on his episodes now, she felt like she should have seen the signs. I guess that’s why they say that hindsight is 20/20. She should have tried to get him help. Should I still try to get him help? Is that what I should be doing? She cast a sidelong glance at Eddie, he seemed perfectly normal sitting beside her, eating his food. Somehow I don’t think that therapy would help someone that’s already killed a person by having rats chew through their face.

Y/N could feel her heart rate rising and her mouth felt dry. Her apartment seemed too small for her thoughts and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. She just needed a second, just a walk to clear her head. She stood up quickly, earning a concerned look from Edward. 

“I, um—I’m gonna go for a walk real quick,” she stated while walking over to her coat and keys. 

Edward looked bewildered. “Let me go with you.” 

“No, it’s fine really, I just need some fresh air, I’ll be right back,” Y/N responded, pulling on her coat quickly, her panic threatening to bubble over. 

Edward stood up and walked over to her. “I really don’t think you should. You’re still recovering and it’s really cold outside,” he objected. “At least let me go with you,” he pleaded, his eyebrows knitted in concern. 

Y/N just shook her head no, and slipped past him opening the door. With one last apologetic look over her shoulder she mumbled, “I promise I’ll be right back.” She shut the door behind her, leaving Edward behind.

——?——

Edward stood by himself in Y/N’s apartment, at a loss for what to do. Every cell in his body was screaming at him to follow her, but he didn’t. She had very clearly wanted to get away from him. 

Edward sat back down on the couch and let out a loud sigh, sinking forward into his hands. Is she... Afraid of me? Memories of her terrified face on Halloween night flashed through his mind. 

This was such a mess. He wished that he had just been honest with her to begin with instead of all of this. He didn’t know what to do with all of the guilt inside of him. He found that it was hard to even look her in the eye, let alone speak with her after what he had done. Every time he looked at her, he was reminded of everything.

He felt so very undeserving of her. He didn’t deserve to look at her, he didn’t deserve to speak to her and he especially did not deserve to touch her. Not after… certain comments. 

And now she was gone, walking around Gotham in the wet and cold. That usually would be hard on her anyway—let alone now while she was still recovering. Today was the first time he had seen her even eat anything and she had still been warm to the touch last night. 

She shouldn’t be walking around out there at all, especially not in this weather.  He felt torn, he wanted to follow her to make sure she was alright but didn’t want to scare her. He couldn’t bring himself to overstep any more than he already had. 

He got up and started clearing away all of the diner food from the table. Something to focus on, he supposed. It had crossed his mind that she was going to the police, but if that was the case he felt resigned to it. It would be penance for how he had treated her. 

A part of him almost felt relieved that she had left him here, that she was finally reacting in some way. He wished that she would be angry with him or even yell at him. I deserve it, he thought, carrying the takeout boxes to the trash. 

He was more worried, than relieved though. If she’s not back in the next 30 minutes I’ll go find her. As much as he didn’t want to overstep he had to make sure she was at least okay. He continued clearing away the dishes as guilt ate away at his insides. 

He wasn’t looking forward to this talk. 

Despite it all he still wanted to go forward with his plan— not the seawall, but Falcone. He needed to kill Falcone. He was the head of corruption in Gotham and had to be taken out. That was the point of everything, but he didn’t know how she would take that. Would she hate him? Would she be scared? He didn’t know how he could make her understand. Before he had met Y/N, every night of his was a thousand nights in the orphanage. The only thing that had relieved the pain he had felt was working on these plans. I can’t just let it go. It’s not that simple. I have to make him pay. 

Taking a deep breath, he sat back down on the couch and looked at the flowers on the table. He had specifically picked those out for her, hoping she would like them. At the Diner, he had gotten everything on the menu, unsure of what she would want the most that morning. He wanted so badly to make everything okay with her, to make her understand, but wasn’t sure how. He could hardly stand to be in the same room with her—the guilt was so strong.

He checked the clock on the oven in the kitchen. It had only been 8 minutes. How could 8 minutes feel so impossibly long? His mind was already a mess with worry and hasn’t even been that long since she had left. He flicked on the television. He needed something to distract him or else he would go after Y/N. And it helped that he was more than a little curious about what the news was saying about him. The news was showing footage from Coulson’s trial and Vicki Vale was reporting. “—reign of terror will continue? There have been no more updates on the Riddler for several days, yet tension continues to run high in Gotham’s political circles and in the GCPD.” Edward grinned. Even though he hadn’t been active in awhile, they were still terrified. Good. He giggled, leaning forward to watch the broadcast more closely. Let them feel an OUNCE of what I felt every day for YEARS. The screen cut to footage of a crowd of his followers and he felt his heart swell with pride. There were tons of people wearing his mask, holding up signs with his symbols on it. It was almost like being loved, he thought. Although, after meeting Y/N, nothing could truly compare to the real thing. He really appreciated his followers though, their strong allegiance to him made him feel powerful. Strength in numbers. 

Now they were interviewing some low-level cop about what he thought of the Riddler. Edward rolled his eyes. I guess they have to keep the Gotham populace watching somehow. He read the time on the bottom of the screen––only a few more minutes had passed since he had last checked. He turned off the TV. Y/N still wasn’t back. She shouldn’t be out there. His anxieties were interrupted by the sound of the door unlatching. He was flooded with relief as Y/N walked through the door. Her face was red and she was breathing pretty heavily. She hunched over and put her hands on her knees as she looked up at Edward apologetically. “Yeah, you were right,” she laughed nervously. “That was stupid. I only… made it about… a block away before… I could barely breathe.” Her words came out labored as she tried to catch her breath. “And it was very cold, just like you sa–” her words were cut short by a coughing fit.  I knew it. I knew she shouldn’t have gone out there. Edward rushed over and helped her pull off her wet coat and boots. He grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her close. She was shaking. Silently, he guided her over to the couch.

“Do you need your inhaler?” he asked, trying not to show that he was upset. She shook her head yes, as she sat down on the couch, still trying to catch her breath.  Edward pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, and was dismayed to find that she was starting to burn up again. He adjusted the blanket over her on the couch and went to grab her inhaler. On his way back he pulled another blanket from her bed and brought it out to the living room to wrap her in as well.

Y/N had turned on the TV and was watching the news broadcast about him silently. This made Edward feel even more nervous and agitated. He wanted to ask her to turn it off, but he didn’t.  What did she even think of all of this? He approached the couch quietly, and laid the other blanket on top of her, handing her the inhaler. He had no idea what to say about what she was watching. He didn’t know if he even wanted to broach the subject, he was leaning towards no.

“I’m going to make you some tea,” Edward stated, instead.

He went to leave but felt a grip on his sleeve, he turned to Y/N holding onto his arm from the couch.

“Stay,” she asked, pulling on his arm. “I’m cold.” She shifted on the couch, making room. “Lay with me…” she added, almost hesitantly.

Edward felt his stomach flutter, and gave a small smile. “Okay,” he responded as he climbed onto the couch with her. He pulled her into his arms, wrapping the blankets tightly around her. She was still shivering, but it had lessened. It felt so nice to hold her in his arms again. He turned his attention back to the TV, they were going over the clues and riddles he had left around town, still trying to guess his next move. Gotham is filled with idiots. I’ve given them more than enough time.

Y/N shifted in his arms, and he felt the excitement in his body turn to anxiety. He still had no idea what she thought about any of this really. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?” he blurted out. Maybe not the most tactful way to ask that question, but he was desperate to know. “No...” Y/N responded after what seemed like ages to Edward, but was probably only a few seconds. “I left because I just needed space to think about everything and I know you wouldn’t hurt me…” she continued. “Just them, right? The people we’ve always talked about?” Edward relaxed into the couch in relief. “Yes,” he reassured her. It seemed like she understood his reasons for doing what he was doing, and that made him happy. But her statement about him not hurting her made him wince. “I know that I did hurt you though, the other night,” Edward spoke softly, and pressed a kiss to her head. “I am truly sorry about that,” he continued, hoping she would know how much he meant it. “I never will again.” Y/N took one of his hands and squeezed it, and Edward squeezed back, feeling so grateful that she would even touch him. “I know, Eddie. You did scare me, but I forgive you.” Edward felt a lump in his throat and tears threatened to fall from his eyes at that statement, but he willed himself not to cry in relief. 

“Everything I said the other day was true,” he insisted. “I really do regret everything, and I didn’t mean any of the things I said—I love you so much.” He knew he was rambling, but he didn’t care. “I love you so much and I’ll do anything to make it up to you, I swear!”  

“Eddie,” Y/N spoke softly, and kissed the back of his hand. “I know... I really do forgive you.” Y/N used her free hand to motion to the TV. “Can you please tell me about this, though?” she asked. “I mean… How long have you planned this? Are you going to get caught? Is your plan over, or is there still more? Do you… Do you like killing people?” All of the questions spilled out of her in a rush and Edward could tell that she seemed somewhat overwhelmed by it all. Edward blinked at the last question, unsure of what to say. This plan was such a deep part of him that it felt almost impossible to explain. He sighed, unsure of how to start.

“I don’t know if I can make you understand, but I am going to try,” he started, holding Y/N’s hand for reassurance. “I grew up in hell. I know we’ve talked about the orphanage before, but I’ve never told you fully how bad it was. It changed me.” In his arms, Y/N nodded her understanding, and Edward continued. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve been stuck there,” he stated. “Technically, I left when I was 18 but it never felt that way. I’ve never been truly free of it.” “I’m stuck there,” he repeated, squeezing her tightly. “For me…” he paused, searching for the right words before continuing again. “For me, it’s like time is frozen and I’m always there,” his voice came out strained.

“The pain that was inflicted upon me—the rage and hopelessness are always there. It has never once gone away.” Edward felt his body shaking, and his heart was thumping loudly in his chest. It was so hard to talk about this part of himself. He had never let anyone else in before. Y/N rubbed his arm reassuringly and he held her close to him, feeling safe enough to continue. “The worst thing is that I thought it was my fault,” he seethed. “All of us kids at the orphanage were told that we deserved to be treated that way, that if we behaved then we would be treated more kindly. But we never were,” Edward spat, rage sparking in his core. 

“We were fed empty promises to keep us in line. It wasn’t until I started my job as a forensics accountant that I found out that it wasn’t my fault. That it wasn’t our fault,” he explained. “There are other people to blame!” 

He gestured to the TV. “People that knew we needed that money and those resources and took it anyway. People that already had everything they could ever need and decided that they wanted more.”

Y/N twisted in his arms to face him for a moment. She gently ran a hand through his hair and traced her fingers over his cheek. “I’m so sorry, Eddie, that they did that to you,” she whispered, laying her head back down on his chest. Edward rubbed small circles on her back, really more for his comfort than hers.

“Every day when I look into a mirror I see pain...” he whispered. “And when I go to sleep, I’m back at that orphanage. I can hear their screams and it never ends, Y/N.”

“I didn’t realize it was that bad for you, Eddie… I’m sorry I didn’t notice before, and that you’ve been in so much pain,” Y/N sniffed, and moved to wipe something from her face but Edward couldn’t see. “You didn’t deserve any of this. No one does. But especially not you––you’re so good.” 

Edward had never heard anyone talk to him like that in his entire life. He had never heard anyone say that he was good— that it was alright for him to exist. That it was okay. 

“Y/N?” he asked, dipping his hand under chin, lifting her face to his. “Do you really think I’m good?” he asked in disbelief. 

“Of course, Eddie!” Y/N insisted. “You’re so smart, you’re like the smartest person I know! And you’re so thoughtful and kind to me, you’ve helped me so much, and you’re trying to help others—-you’re so good,” she whispered, looking up at him adoringly.  

Edward cupped her face in both hands, looking at her adoringly. He leaned in and kissed her for the first time in days.

It felt so right. Having her in his arms, snuggled close to him was perfect. It was where she was meant to be— with him. His perfect angel. 

Y/N relaxed into the kiss, her arms wrapping around him effortlessly. He kissed her deeply, pouring all of his love for her into it. He had missed her so much. Missed this. He trailed his fingers over her body while he kissed her, unable to stop touching her. 

He was so glad she was okay, that she was with him. He was so glad that she had forgiven him. If they were together then everything would be alright. He ran his fingers through her hair, kissing her more and more, getting lost in the feeling. 

Y/N pulled away, her face flushed. “Sorry,” she whispered, “I don’t feel so good...” Oh yeah, Edward remembered. She has a fever. 

“N-no, that’s alright, Y/N. I’m sorry,” he giggled nervously. “I got carried away. I just missed you so much,” he admitted. “Are you okay though?” he asked, wondering if she was in pain at all. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. I just need to rest. I don’t have much energy right now,” she responded softly, laying her head back down on his chest. 

Edward fell silent for a long time, listening to her breathing. He debated whether or not to come clean and tell her that he was going to continue his plan, but decided that he needed to. It was all going to come out in the end anyway and he needed to be truthful. 

“About the plan Y/N…” Edward started carefully. Y/N shifted, he had gotten her attention. 

“I want to continue it,” he confessed. He felt Y/N tense in his arms. He had already been nervous and the feeling was growing, but he did his best to ignore it. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but she had to know the truth. There couldn’t be any more lies between them. 

“I can’t accept that the people that did this to me, that did this to all of us get to just go on with their lives,” he explained, narrowing his eyes at the television. 

“I can’t accept that,” he stated resolutely. 

“Do you understand, Y/N? I can’t just let this go,” he admitted, his calm demeanor breaking. “They have to suffer for what they did. Hundreds of children died because of their actions. Hundreds more ended up like me, haunted by it all. It was torture, growing up there, Y/N.” She was looking up at him now, watching him carefully as he spoke. 

“And they did it all for what? For money? To buy a second house? For stupid, selfish reasons. They’re parasites! And I guess to answer your other question: Yes. Yes it feels good when I kill them. It feels good when I see the fear in their eyes. Because THEY DESERVE IT.” His voice was loud now, adrenaline coursing through him as he explained. 

“They don’t deserve to be here, they deserve to die for what they did. I’m exposing them all, I’m changing everything. I won’t let them do this again to anyone while I’m alive, I’m going to—“ 

“Eddie,” Y/N’s voice cut him off, breaking through the dark fog surrounding his thoughts.  

He looked down at her, reorienting himself to the present. “Sorry,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean—“ 

“Okay,” she said, reaching up and caressing his cheek with her thumb. 

Edward looked down at her questioningly. He tilted his head in confusion. 

“Let’s go after them,” she said, looking into Edward’s eyes intensely. “They’re scum.” When Edward was a young teen, he had a job as a delivery boy. When he would go home at night, he would pass dozens of houses all lit up from the inside, every room warm and aglow. He would imagine happy families that might have lived in them, with their nice normal lives as he made his way back to the worst place on earth. 

It had made him feel frozen and alone.

But now, he knew how it felt from the other side. It was like every room in his soul finally had some light in it. He felt safe and comfortable and warm. He felt loved. He now had everything he had ever needed. He wasn’t standing out in the cold anymore. “I love you,” he said reverently, sitting up to give Y/N his full attention. “I love you too, Eddie,” she said, grasping both of his hands. “It's… It's definitely a lot to take in. Your plan and everything, but––they did that to kids. These people were okay with hurting actual children. And Gotham obviously isn’t doing well under their control.” She looked at the TV and continued, “And honestly, we both know that they’re actually part of the problem themselves. A lot of them are directly involved in the crime that plagues this city.” She looked back to Edward and squeezed his hands, “I’ll support you, I just...” she trailed off, looking down at the space between them. “What is it, angel?” Edward asked, leaning forward. “Tell me.” “I just don’t want you to get caught,” she admitted, her lower lip trembling. Edward noticed that she was squeezing his hands really tightly. “I’m scared that it might happen and then…” she stopped, and looked away, her shoulders shaking. Edward pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her protectively. “And then you’ll go away forever,” she cried into his chest. Edward rubbed her back soothingly. “No,” he said. “I won’t get caught. I promise.” He pulled back to look into her eyes, his hands on her shoulders. “I haven’t been working for several days and they still haven’t figured out any of my clues. They’re idiots, angel. I would never allow myself to be caught.” Y/N sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Do you trust me?” Edward asked, searching her face for understanding. “Mmhmm.” Y/N nodded, still looking anxious.

“Darling, I would never allow myself to be taken away from you. Okay? Never.” He reached out and wiped her tears away, “So no more crying okay?”

He gave her a smile and Y/N smiled weakly back, nodding her head in agreement.

“We’ve had more than enough of that in the past couple days,” Edward added wryly, adjusting the blankets on top of her while getting off the couch himself.

“I’m going to make you that tea now, okay? You should rest.” He grabbed the remote off the coffee table and handed it to her, “And watch something else for a while, okay?” he asked, sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Something more relaxing.”

Y/N giggled. “Okay, Eddie, I guess I won’t watch your grand accomplishments on an endless loop if that’s really what you want.”

Edward felt his face grow hot and he quickly turned to go to the kitchen, “T-that’s not… Just— You can’t—I don’t know, watch something else!” he stammered out.

He heard Y/N laugh from the other room and he rolled his eyes, going to the cupboard to prepare her tea. 

Next

[f4irycafe]

too late

summary: as the youngest son in an abuse-stricken family, eren is under mounds of pressure to break the generational curse of violence that plagues the men in his family. this is his first test.

pairing: eren x reader

warnings: dark content, graphic depictions of domestic abuse, child abuse, choking (eren chokes reader), toxic relationship (kinda, erens an asshole), cursing, hurt/comfort.

word count: 3.1k

song inspiration: too late by zamir

notes: let it be known that the choking is NOT in a smutty way. so when it comes up don't yell @ me cause i'm warning you right now. i heard this song and immediately thought about eren. i know grisha didn't physically abuse carla but i hate that man so damn much. so none of this is canon. also i’m not 100% sure i tagged this correctly, if there’s anything i should change please send me an ask so i can fix it. :)

PLEASE REBLOG

it had been variations of the same fight every day for weeks now. you and eren had spent so much time together at your separate apartments, so you had decided to move in together. in theory it sounded nice. being able to come home to your boyfriend after a long day of university, cuddle into his arms, make dinner together, then do the same thing the next day. in practice ... it wasn't so black and white.

this was the third time this week you had walked in the door to a dirty house. dishes from breakfast, towels dropped on the floor of the bathroom ruining the hardwood, dust coating the tops of every surface. because of the monthly allowance eren got from his father and his fully paid tuition, he saw no need to join clubs, get a job, or do anything that wasn't required of him. he went to class, basketball practice after that, then came home. while you on the other hand had school, the clubs you managed, and work, all just to keep your full ride scholarship.

you knew that you and eren came from different worlds financially, but after you moved in with him those differences became alarmingly clear.

you couldn't help but sigh when you saw all the lights turned on, and the heaters cranked, knowing that the money would be coming out of your paycheck. you threw your back and jacket in the middle of the hall before you stormed through the place.

"eren, where the fuck are you!" you yelled. you checked the living room before going upstairs to your shared bedroom. the only other place he could be was his gameroom. he had claimed it as his man cave the day you moved in, wasting no time in setting up the space how he liked it.

"eren!" you banged on his door a few times then waited. no answer. you called his name again. nothing. you swung the door open, not bothering to knock. he was completely plugged in, headphones on as he screamed at his monitor.

"take this shit off," you muttered as you grabbed his headset, throwing it to the side. his green eyes snapped to yours in a look of bewilderment, his hands coming up to his sides.

"what the fuck is wrong with you. do you know how much those cost?"

"why are the dishes still in the sink?" you asked. he didn't bother to get up, instead deciding to look at you in a way that made your skin crawl.

"what? he asked slowly, like he couldn't quite believe what you were saying.

"i left at seven this morning. your classes got out at 4 and you didn't have practice today. it is now nine pm," you said as you checked the clock on his computer, "so why the fuck are the dishes not done."

eren was still. your breaths came out ragged as you stared at him, your hands balled into fists at your sides.

"hello?!" you said when he still hadn't answered you.

"i was busy." he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "jean came over, he just left a little while ago."

"you've been here all day eren! i haven't even had the chance to eat dinner yet and-"

"then go eat it," he said as he cut you off.

"then go eat your fucking dinner and clean the kitchen. i don't understand why you're up here bitching to me about it. you could have already started by now if you weren't wasting your time yelling at me."

you wanted to scream. he just wasn't getting it. your relationship was so nice before you had made the decision to live together. he'd show up to your place with takeout and that sweet sweet smile on his face, ready to stay in and massage your feet if that was what you asked of him. now? the last time you had sex was in those first days you have moved in together.

sometimes you got home early to clean the house yourself, but once, just once you wished he would take the inicitive and do it himself.

"so you couldn't have cleaned before jean came over? maybe during?" when eren rolled his eyes and reached for his headset you saw red. you stomped over to the other side of his chair and kicked the damn thing out of his reach before he could grab it.

that was enough to get his attention.

"you wanna do this right now?" he asked as he stood up, shoving the chair behind him so hard it hit his table with an alarming 'crack'.

"you don't do shit, eren! you sit around on your ass all day playing video games and hanging out with your friends. i do everything! every fucking thing. i clean, i sweep, i cook, hell when we have sex you don't even eat me out anymore. i thought that maybe, just maybe you would help me today, you know cleaning the dishes and maybe making dinner."

erens mind was reeling as you yelled at him. deep down, he knew you were right. he knew he was being an asshole and forcing you to do all the labor. but fuck, he didn't know how else to be. it hurt, to have all his shortcomings thrown in his face by the woman he loved most in the world.

"but god forbid that get in the way of you hanging out with jean. jesus fucking christ. i'm the one taking the most credits, i'm the one who works for five fucking hours every other day. me eren. that shit is all fucking me! if i had known you were gonna be this god damn useless i would have never moved in with you."

oh that did it.

"then leave huh? leave if this is so fucking shitty for you." what the fuck was he saying. he didn't mean this. he didn't want you to leave.

"don't push your fucking problems onto me. you don't have to be president of all those little clubs your in, you don't have to work insane fucking hours all the time. i didn't force you to do that shit. if having a clean kitchen is such a big problem then maybe you need to rearange some things in your schedule."

"fuck you, you worthless, spineless piece of shit." you spat with every ounce of venom in your body.

worthless.

pathetic.

unworthy.

worthless.

worthless.

worthless.

one second the both of you were standing in the middle of the room yelling at each other. the next he had you shoved against the wall, his left hand forcing your airway closed as the other punched through the wall.

"shut up." he yelled, spit flying in your face as he accentuated his words with the pounding of his fist on the wall.

"shut the fuck up!" when he opened his eyes it wasn't your face that he saw, it was his fathers. with another blink he saw zeke.

then his mother.

he drew in a sharp breath, as he stared back at his moms face. she had a black eye and a nasty bruise was forming on her cheek. she looked so sad, so scared as she looked back at him.

he remembered that day so clearly.

knocking himself out of his trance he saw you again, saw you sob as you clawed at his wrist. he let you go in an instant, tears immediately flooding his eyes as he realized what he had just done.

"oh god." he muttered. his breathing quicker, his heartrate even more so. he didn't let either of you get another word in before he was sprinting out of the room and down the stairs. you called after him but he couldn't hear you, his mind too far away to register anything other than the car engine revving to life as he drove away from you.

he drove until he stopped crying, which was a while. when he did park he had no idea where he was. all he knew was that he was far enough away from you, right where he should be.

worthless.

pathetic.

he was eight years old the first time he saw his father hit his mother. he had come home from school waving his new report card in his chubby little hands, excited to show his parents his good marks and brag about how his friend armin had helped him.

he heard the fighting before he saw it, instantly dampening his good mood. he slipped his backpack onto the living room floor as he wandered through his house towards the sounds.

"don't embarrass me like that ever again. do you understand me?" he heard his father voice say. it was angry. mean in a way he had never heard before. the loud sound of smack echoed through the house next, causing eren to burst into his parents room.

his mother was huddled on the floor, the force of the below grisha had dealt her sending her to the ground.

"mommy?" he asked, shaking her as she lay on the ground. when she didn't respond he turned to his dad, fat, angry tears beginning to roll down his face.

"don't hit mommy! that's mean! we don't hit people!" he said, repeating what he had heard his teachers say whenever he got into fights on the playground.

"out of my way boy."

eren didn't listen. instead choosing to run at his father, his little fists pounding at his thighs.

eren didn't even think that he could be hit next. but there he was, curled up in his mothers side as he screamed in pain from the smack grisha had delt him on his face.

"get out of my sight, both of you." carla picked eren off of the ground, letting him cry into her shoulder as she exited the room.

"fucking pathetic," grisha muttered as they left. eren heard it, heard the way his fathers' voice was laced with such deep-rooted disappointment.

that was the first time he ever watched his mother get hit. in the early days, he often tried to intervene. he always ended up getting beat as well, until he just stopped trying to help his mother. he learned that if acted like he wasn't aware, grisha wouldn't lay a hand on him.

and that was how it went.

he heard his mother crying herself to sleep most nights, and would often see her sitting silently in the kitchen as she drank. they had used to be so close when he was a kid, but when he began to ignore the abuse and hide behind his feigned ignorance, something vital snapped in their relationship.

the nail in the coffin was when carla found out about zekes affair. it was before eren had been born, and resulted in the birth of his older brother zeke.

his mom hadn't smiled in years. hadn't had a reason to, and eren was content to let it be that way. he had gained favor with his father the older he had gotten, been trained, and poised to take over his family's company alongside zeke when he was old enough.

he didn't say anything when zekes wife started to have the same lifeless look his mom had, or when dina, zekes mother, started to look that way as well.

he stopped getting into needless fights at school, became placid and valuable in every aspect of his life. he had been beaten into submission by grisha, and had stayed that way for a very, very long time.

when he met you, he had sworn to never become like the men in his family. he was soft spoken, kind, charitable, generous, everything his father wasn't. it wasn't even as if he was trying to be those things, he just was. the boy who was beaten and tossed to the side flourished with you. you gave him a chance to reconnect with his inner child. you allowed him to be romantic, to love you and not shy away from the love you gave him in return.

he don't know what had happened, how he had become so sour in the past month. but calling him worthless, reminding him of the cowardly boy he was deep down hurt something inside of him. something that he had tried to ignore for the past fourteen years of his life.

-

you locked yourself in your room the second he left, crying to yourself as you curled into a ball on the floor. never in your life would you have ever thought he would get physical with you. your brain was too scrambled to think through it straight.

it scared you, the way his eyes blazed with such fury as he came at you. you would never be able to forget the way his hand felt on your throat, of the wind that brushed yourself because of the speed at which he was breaking the wall.

but above all else, you would never be able to unsee the scared, helpless look in his eyes when he looked back up at you.

you waited for him to come home for hours, scrambling to the windows anytime you heard a car go down the street. you cleaned anxiously while you waited, doing the dishes you had screamed at him about hours earlier. eventually you fell asleep, too emotionally and physically drained from crying and worrying that your body shut down on its own accord.

-

eren crept back into your apartment in the early hours of the morning when he knew you would be sleeping. he wasn't sure he'd be able to face you just yet. his first impulse was to go into the kitchen and clean the mess he had neglected to clean the past weeks, only to find the entire room spotless. the dishes had been cleaned and stored properly and the counter was spotless. he sighed, letting his head fall against the cold metal of the fridge.

he had fucking choked you, he had put his sullied hands on you after he promised himself to be better. tears came to his eyes again as he cried silently, his head hanging in his hands. on the drive back he had accepted the fact that you would leave him after this. there was no way you would want to stay with someone who put hands on you. just because he had come to terms with it didn't mean he liked it, but there wasn't much that could be done.

he took it upon himself to sleep on the couch that night.

you woke up the next morning to an empty bed. you're initial panic was quickly calmed when when you saw your boyfriend curled up in a rather uncomfortable looking position on the couch. you let him sleep, shuffling your way to the kitchen to make yourself some breakfast and coffee before you headed to class.

the noise woke eren up, his body shooting itself off of the couch as he whipped around to look at you. his heart broke when he noticed your tear stained face.

"y/n, i am so sorry," he started, rushing off the couch and into the kitchen. you raised a hand to stop the river of apologies that was sure to flow out of his mouth. you had stayed up for a good while trying to figure out how this conversation would go, and every time you came up blank.

"what was that?" you asked as your hands fiddled with your coffee mug. "what the hell was that eren."

he took a deep breath and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to regulate his breathing. he had to tell you. it wouldn't be fair if he didn't.

"when i - when i was younger my dad used to beat my mom. i guess i can't really say when i was younger because he still does," and thus started the word vomit of an explanation that pooled out of eren's mouth for the next half an hour. he told you everything. how his mother would clean his face before dealing with her own scars, how he turned a blind eye towards the abuse if it means saving himself. he told you about dina, zeke, his past relationships, everything.

at one point you had moved from the kitchen to the couch, your hands clasped as you listened to him. he had to pause multiple times to cry, squeezing your hands to try to keep it under control.

"he called me worthless every day. and i had spent so long trying to prove to him that i wasn't that i lost myself. but you, you found me, baby. i will never forgive myself for hurting you, and i understand if you want to leave me, but just know that i love you more than i've ever loved anyone, more than i love myself and it scares me."

it was a sorry sight honestly, the two of you sobbing into each others arms on the couch. you knew about the tension eren had with his family, but he always refused to tell you why.

"i want to move out," you said after a few minutes of silence. eren opened his mouth in protest, but you cut him off before he could speak.

"i'm not breaking up with you. but, we shouldn't have moved in together yet. neither of us are ready, and that's okay. but i can't keep doing this, and i don't want to hold onto empty promises anymore. it's only been a few months, i can still move back with my friends, and you can go back to living with armin."

eren nodded, melting into your hands when you put them on his cheeks.

"why didn't you tell me this bub?" you asked.

"i didn't want you to think i was weak." you shook your head.

"never. you were doing what you could to survive. i don't blame you for that."

"you didn't have to clean the kitchen you know," you smiled slightly. "i would have done it when i got back."

"a guilt clean?" eren huffed out his own laugh, opening his eyes to look at you.

"yeah. a guilt clean."

"i have to get to class. but when i get back help me star packing up. alright?"

"alright."

elles rambles: not my best work but i felt called to produce angst lol . thank u bae for beta reading <3 @starryenigma

[allsassnoclass]

63 is always a fun one

hello dear anon! I hope you like this! i just ask that everyone suspends their disbelief a little and pretends that 5sos live in a place where it gets cold

cashton: routine kisses where the other person presents their cheek/forehead for the hello/goodbye kiss without even looking up from what they're doing

Ashton wakes up freezing.

It's the depths of winter, and they're in a cold patch right now, but there's no reason for the house to be this cold. He nestles further under the covers, drifting closer to Calum, wrapping a cold hand around his waist, hoping not to wake up him up with the change in temperature between their skin.

Something must be wrong with their heater. Ashton almost always wakes up fighting to get out of the covers, on the verge of overheating after being in a cocoon of warmth all night, but there's none of that today. He wants to grab a fluffy sweater and drape another blanket over the bed, but he wants to stay safe from the cold and chill that's going to attack him the moment he sits up even more.

Calum shifts a little, curling into himself. Ashton is more comfortable with the cold than he is; neither of them are particularly whiny when it comes to a little chill, but Ashton is the one who consistently takes ice baths and is willing to run around in the snow barefoot. He's going to be upset when he eventually wakes up, and Ashton doesn't want that. He hates when Calum is miserable.

Ashton gives himself three more seconds to lay in bed feeling sorry for himself, then leans over to kiss Calum's cheek like he does every morning. He slips out from under the covers, wincing at the chill, immediately grabbing his fluffy robe. The fabric itself is cold to the touch, but he puts it on anyway, hoping that after a few minutes his body heat will warm it.

Duke watches him the whole time, curled up tightly like a donut in his dog bed, dark eyes following Ashton's movements. He clicks his tongue at him, coaxing the dog up and out of the room so Ashton can get him breakfast and let him outside. He carefully shuts the door behind them, wanting to keep as much warmth in the room with Calum as possible now that he knows the hallway is just as bad.

On his way to get coffee started, he pulls out his phone and starts looking up numbers of people who can repair their furnace.

-/-

Calum wakes up lonely. He swipes a hand across Ashton's side of the bed, the sheets even colder than usual without him. He sighs, wrapping the covers around himself more, but it doesn't make him feel snug and cozy like usual. He sighs again, finally opening his eyes, and takes in the empty room.

Well, empty except for the space heater plugged in the corner, one that they've used in the basement before but that he thought was packed away. The door is closed, which is odd because they usually leave it cracked in case Duke wants to come in and out, but that makes sense if Ashton is trying to keep heat in.

Something must be wrong with the furnace.

Calum grits his teeth and braces himself for the cold, then flings off the covers like he's ripping off a band-aid. He immediately goes to the closet to find a hoodie, passing his hands in front of the heater as to get a blast of warm air. It's not the best space heater in the world, but it's better than nothing, and Calum's nose feels like it's going to freeze off if he doesn't get warm soon.

He cautiously leaves the bedroom, closing the door behind him again in case he needs to return to the safe haven of warmth. The hallway is a few degrees colder, and Calum heads straight for the kitchen in the hopes that a hot cup of coffee will help him warm up.

He finds Ashton sitting at the breakfast bar, robe sinched tightly around his waist, plate of toast half-eaten in front of him, and eyes fixed on his phone.

"Morning, sweetheart," Calum says, leaning down to kiss his cheek. Ashton automatically tips his head to make it easier for him, still scrolling on his phone.

"Morning," he says. "Sorry about the cold. I checked the furnace, and it looks like there's something wrong with the sensor, but the guy I called can't get here until early afternoon. I don't think it's something I can mess around with and fix."

Calum grimaces, getting down his favorite mug and heading to the coffee pot.

"Did you call the guys to cancel rehearsal? One of us needs to be here for the furnace guy, and we're at the point where it's not helpful practicing with just three of us," he asks.

"Yeah, I left a message," Ashton says, finally putting down his phone. "Accidental day off."

Calum hums. They both enjoy rehearsals enough that it rarely feels like work, but Calum doesn't allow himself to feel disappointed at missing today. They'll add another practice in later, and maybe Calum will be able to convince Ashton to relax a bit today, even though they both know that there are a few household chores they've been putting off.

"I'm going to go shower," Ashton says, standing. "Want the rest of my toast?"

Calum nods and sits in his vacated spot, warm mug of coffee in his hand. Ashton stands behind him for a moment, hands heavy on his shoulders, then kisses the top of his head before he leaves the room.

-/-

After his shower, Ashton lets Calum convince him to cuddle on the couch and watch a few movies they've been meaning to see for a while. He knows that they need to do laundry, and his snare keeps rattling more than it should and needs some maintenance, but Ashton is always helpless when Calum has his heart set on something, and being bundled in blankets with him and Duke sounds like a much better idea than tramping around the rest of the house in the cold. They bring out the space heater from the bedroom and another, smaller one that he managed to find, but the open floorplan means that the heat doesn't stay contained. Still, it's warm enough with blankets around them and Calum pressed close, fingers tapping along to the songs form Encanto on Ashton's thigh.

The doorbell startles Duke from his nap, sending him yipping. Ashton fights to get out from under their blanket nest while Calum fights to grab him and keep him quiet, but he still presses a kiss to Calum's cheek before he leaves the room, Calum pausing for a split second in the pursuit of his dog to let it happen.

The kisses started before the dating did. Everyone else in the band is cuddly and tactile, but Calum is the one who likes kisses the best. He'd plant one on their cheeks after a good show or on foreheads when he said goodnight at the end of a long day, and Ashton always relished those moments. He's glad that they've only increased since they started dating, exchanging easy, routine pecks when one of them enters or leaves the room. Ashton likes the simple pieces of affection. He likes the little reminders of love peppered throughout his day.

Ashton takes care of the furnace guy, explaining the situation as best he can and then leaving him to work without hovering. He rejoins Calum in the living room, plopping down on the couch and stretching an arm around his shoulders. Calum's cheeks curve into a smile when Ashton kisses him again, and Ashton wouldn't mind staying cuddled together watching movies for the rest of the day, even long after the furnace gets repaired and they both warm back up.

[meltwonu]

s n a k e     |     e y e s     [chapter 2]

pairing; snakehybrid!woozi x female!reader

this chapter’s notes; seokmin is a quokka hybrid in this and i know and if you dont know, quokkas actually spit out their food and eat it again but for the sake of seokmin not being gross in this, he doesn’t do that ok kjdhfks and also for those who dont know snakes smell by using their tongue so…. Very mild touching in this one( masturbation at the end hehe oops)!! I’ve also kinda changed some stuff around, not a big deal, but made it so it’d make more sense in this au!! hehe thank u for taking interest in snakehybrid!woozi 🥺💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - x - x - x

It’s a warm Sunday morning when Jihoon lugs his keyboard out into the sunroom. Mingyu’s already waiting there with the new hybrid at the adoption home, Seokmin. The smiley quokka-hybrid sleeps in the bedroom next to the snake hybrid and has a saccharine voice much like Jihoon himself. And despite Jihoon’s timid nature, he quite likes the company of the two younger hybrids.

“Hey Jihoon-hyung over here!”

There’s a clang when the keyboard accidentally taps the door frame to the sunroom and Jihoon has to pause to check for any scratches on the gift Seungcheol gave him.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, hold on. I need to plug it in.”

Jihoon shrugs off his jacket, tossing it into a corner while he goes to set up the keyboard by the other two lounging in the sun.

“I was wondering if we could try working on that song from last time, hyung?” Seokmin’s head tilts cutely to the side as he makes space for Jihoon on the floor. “Um, sure. I can try to remember how to play it.”  Seokmin and Jihoon work together to craft a song while Mingyu watches in awe, scrambling to find the camera Seungcheol gave him so that he can snap some pictures of the two.

The three hybrids lounge in the sunroom for a few hours, basking in the warmth as they sing together, urging Mingyu to take part in it as well.

“You have a great singing voice, Mingyu! You should show it off sometimes too!!” The husky hybrid blushes, tail wagging furiously behind him. “Oh my god, shut up you’re embarrassing me!” Jihoon snickers as Seokmin and Mingyu really get into it, his fingers dancing delicately over the keys.

“Alright, time for lunch!”

The sudden voice breaks them out of their little tussle; eyes traveling to the figure standing in the doorway with a cart filled with food. “Seungcheol-hyung brought food!!” By nature, it’s Mingyu who gets up first, barreling into Seungcheol. He sheepishly apologizes, helping Seungcheol distribute the food between the three hybrids.

“Okay, I want you guys to enjoy your lunch because we have a special visitor afterwards! She’s actually a friend of mine and she’s kind of been wanting to adopt a hybrid so I asked her to come by. I know it’s really last minute but I figured she’d just come meet you guys. How’s that sound?”

“Yay, new people!” Seokmin replies cheerily with a mouth full of salad. Mingyu nods, he liked meeting new people, especially if they were friends of Seungcheol. Jihoon on the other hand feels his appetite leave him almost immediately. He hated it when people came to tour the adoption home. He knew the three of them weren’t the only occupants of Seungcheol’s adoption home but he still disliked the inevitable stares and questions he got.

“Um, yeah, that’d be...great.”

Jihoon tries to finish his food for the sake of not being hungry later but he can barely get it all down before  Jeonghan pops his head into the room. “Hey ‘Cheol, your friend is here.” The two leave together, leaving the three hybrids alone once again.

“Hey, do you think hyung’s friend is gonna adopt anyone?” Seokmin stretches out onto the floor by the piano, Mingyu in tow. “Dunno, but hyung said that she was looking to adopt so maybe?” The two delve into mindless chatter as Jihoon sits alone with his thoughts. He was thankful most of the time that they didn’t have many visitors because all it brought him was unneeded stress.

There’s a knock on the door, Mingyu yelling “come in!” from his place on the floor before a female laugh can be heard, Seungcheol’s voice accompanying it.

“And these are the three muskateers. Come say hi, everyone!” They all get up from their positions, each of them introducing themselves to you as Jihoon lags behind. “This shy one is Jihoon, he’s a snake hybrid.” Jihoon’s lips press into a firm line as he stares off to the side; mildly uninterested and a little bit anxious.

“Oh, interesting, a snake hybrid!”

Jihoon mentally grimaces. Usually when people came hoping to adopt, there were two typical reactions they had towards him. The first one was confusion; mainly because Jihoon didn’t have any physical features that a snake hybrid normally had. The second one was usually fascination with him being a snake hybrid. Jihoon almost preferred the former because it usually meant he’d stay at the adoption home and wouldn’t have to  do or change anything. The latter typically meant he’d potentially get adopted and whoever his owner was would find out he was too much maintenance for a hybrid that didn’t even look like one.

“If you don’t mind, do you think we can have a little chat together?” Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts as he finally looks you in the eye for the first time since you’d walked in. He’s hesitant, shooting Seungcheol a quick glance. “Um, Jihoon’s a little shy…”

“Oh, that’s okay then! I completely unders---”

“It’s fine. We can… talk.”

Jihoon’s palms feel clammy and his throat feels dry when Seungcheol escorts the other two hybrids out of the sunroom so that you can talk to him properly. The air feels awkward and somewhat tense when he turns his back towards you; settling down in front of the keyboard still placed on the floor.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to come off as harsh but what do you want? I’m sure Seungcheol told you about me or my history so...” You twiddle your thumbs, walking over to the windowsill to lean up against it as you watch him run his fingers along the keys.

“What do you mean?”

“You probably have a ton of questions right? Why don’t I have any hybrid features? Why do I look like a normal human? Do I have any weird appendages? How many times people have returned me here?” The room is quiet; only the sounds of the birds outside chirping filling in the awkward air.

“Not really. I didn’t come here looking to adopt a hybrid for the sake of their appearance or their rarity, I guess. I just… I don’t know, I guess I wanted a companion. I work at home a lot since I’m a writer and it gets lonely. Thought someone could keep me company. Or maybe someone wanted company.” Jihoon lets your words sink in, his fingers trembling as he presses down on a random key.

“Oh.”

A few days passed since meeting Jihoon and he had carefully agreed to you adopting him. The two of you had talked a little bit longer; Jihoon feeling more at ease with you than most of the people he’d met in the past. Seokmin had been sad that his new friend was leaving and Mingyu had been wary about the entire thing. But Jihoon had soothed them both; telling them that they’d probably see him soon anyway.

Seungcheol drives him to your apartment, Jihoon’s things in boxes in the trunk as he sits nervously in the front seat.

“Jihoon, I know you’re… this is a lot. It’s okay to feel anxious and nervous and.. I mean with everything in the past, I--”

“I know. You don’t have to feel sorry for me. It feels bad. Just… don’t be surprised when you see me back at the adoption place in like a week, okay?” He chuckles sadly, eyes focused on the scenery outside the window. Seungcheol sighs, hands gripping the wheel.

There’s three knocks on the door before you’re rushing to open it, vacuum still buzzing in the background as you all but rip the door open.

“Hey!” You shoot both the males a smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Sorry I was in the middle of cleaning but come in!” You give them space to enter, Jihoon toeing off his shoes and setting them by yours at the entrance as he balances his prized keyboard in his arms. Seungcheol sets one of the boxes of Jihoon’s things down on the dinner table, wiping the sweat off his brow.

“Sadly the elevator was broken so we had to take the stairs. Who would’ve thought carrying one box of things up the stairs would be the death of me. Can I have some water?” Jihoon snorts, taking in the features of his new home as he sets the keyboard down by the sofa.

“‘Cheol, you’ve got the stamina of a 90 year old man.”

“Hey, it’s not easy being old okay!” You pass him a glass of water, trapezing around the vacuum cord to turn it off. “I wanted to be done cleaning up before you got here, Jihoon. Sorry, I’m a little slow, I’m used to it just being me here and just living in my filth I guess.” He shrugs, “S’okay, Mingyu usually leaves a mess around the place anyway. Guess you can say I’m used to living in filth.” Seungcheol sputters, wiping the water off of his chin. You can’t help but laugh, patting Seungcheol on the shoulder as you gesture Jihoon further into your place.

“Let me show you around!”

Seungcheol decides to get more of Jihoon’s stuff out of his car as Jihoon walks behind you cautiously down the hallway, only stopping when you get to the door at the end of the hall. “Um, This place has three bedrooms and mine is on the opposite side but I wasn’t sure if you’d want the room that was next to mine or if you wanted space? I’m using the other room as a workspace right now, so you can put your stuff in here for now while you get used to the place… And then if you change your mind, we can switch some stuff around!” Giving him a small smile, you tug the door open, letting him enter first and for once, Jihoon is shocked. The room is much larger than any room he’s ever had and he takes notice of all the fancy heaters and humidifiers already placed around the room.

“Wow…”

“Sorry, is it, like, too much? ‘Cheol said you had some heaters and stuff in your old room but I thought I’d get you some new ones… Kind of like a housewarming gift?”

“This is… nice. It’s, um, very kind of you.” He can feel a soft blush wash over his skin as he tugs his sleeves down over his hands. “I… like it a lot. Thank you.”

When Seungcheol finally leaves after bringing up all of Jihoon’s things, it’s finally time for the two of you to settle in. 

Jihoon’s safety net is gone and the reality of being in a new space has his anxiety spiking back up tenfold. “Hey, Jihoon?”

“Huh?”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you or anything but I thought we’d order out for dinner if that’s okay? I’d usually cook but I think we’ve both had a long day. What do you think?”

“O-okay…” You can basically feel the nervousness radiating off of him as he awkwardly stands in the middle of the living room. “Jihoon, do you want to, um, I mean, you don’t have to stay out here if you don’t want to? You’re free to roam around if you’d like.” He shuffles closer to the sofa, biting his lip as he stares out the window.

“It’s… okay, I should m-maybe, um, spend some time with you? If that’s okay?” By now, his past owners would send him off to his shoebox of a room, only calling him out when it was necessary. Usually, he’d immediately plug in his keyboard by now, tuning out everything until he was just focused on composing something until he was needed.

Instead, he inches closer to the sofa, sitting down on the plush material as you put the last bit of cleaning supplies away and plop down onto the other side. “Hey, Jihoon? Can I be honest with you for a second?” He turns to you, nodding curiously. “I’m gonna be real, I did some research on snake hybrids but I couldn’t find much… I’m kind of inexperienced with the whole hybrid thing and even more uneducated when it comes to snake hybrids so… is there anything I should know? Like, snakes smell with their tongue, right? So, is it the same for you? Sorry if that’s offensive or something!” You watch the blonde haired male lick his lips, his leg bouncing slightly.

“Um, technically that’s correct. But snake hybrids still can use their human noses, it’s just… more intense when we use our tongues. Uh…” A blush settles on his cheeks, his mind no doubt going in a different direction than he intended. “Just, yeah, m-more intense, that’s all. Some foods might be more off-putting for us because of that. And, to be fair, I don’t… have many features that most snake hybrids have anyway. It’s just my surroundings and I guess some of my mannerisms? I basically exist normally other than that.”

You nod appreciatively; glad that Jihoon was willing to open up to you, even if it was only a little at a time. It would take a lot of getting used to on your part and his, but he seemed okay for now, albeit still timid. “I just want you to know that even though I adopted you as a hybrid, I don’t want you to think that I think less of you. I think of us as equals!” You turn to him smiling; ecstatic when he turns to face you as well.

“You have the freedom to do whatever you want here as long as it’s not destroying stuff, I guess. And if you need anything, you’re more than welcome to ask me! I’m home a lot since I’m a writer but I do have to pop into my editor’s office every now and then. But if you want to go out and eat or… um, I dunno, maybe go for a walk in the park? I’m always down to go!” Now it’s your turn to blush as he watches you, his fingers interlocked in his lap as he sits there quietly processing what you’ve said.

“I… thank you, you’re a lot kinder than any of my previous owners.”

Jihoon is on cloud nine when you tell him that he can pick what dinner he wants to have, eyes scanning over all the options on the food delivery app on your phone.

“I mean, as long as you don’t run up a $100 bill on food, you can pick whatever you want!” He chuckles quietly, clicking on various items and adding it to the cart. “Thank you for letting me pick dinner.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem! It’s your first night here, I want you to feel comfortable. This also reminds me that I need to get you a phone, just in case and also so you don’t get bored.”

The pretty flush doesn’t leave Jihoon’s face the rest of the night, even as the two of you sit at the dinner table eating the fried chicken and soda combination Jihoon picked out. The cute snake hybrid apparently had an obsession with the sweet drink, downing cups of it as you took mental notes to buy some for him later. And for the first time, you see him genuinely smile as he eats, cute lips curving up as he polishes off the rest of the food.

A crumb sits at the corner of his lips, and by instinct you lean over, thumb already next to his mouth before you can even stop yourself. There’s a pause, Jihoon’s eyes wide as you swipe at the crumb, ready to settle back into your seat when Jihoon’s hand comes up, wrapping around your wrist and holding you there.

“I, oops, I should’ve just told you there was a crumb! Sorry!”

You laugh awkwardly, hoping he doesn’t accidentally snap your wrist because you just invaded his personal space. Instead, you watch as he brings your hand closer to his mouth, pink tongue peeking out as he swipes at your thumb. You try to not question it, convincing yourself it might just be a snake thing, so you let him do whatever it is he’s doing as he begins to nose at your palm. It feels ticklish; your hand wanting to close at the feeling, but you can’t deny the way your body heats up on instinct, the innocent gesture riling up your thoughts about the snake hybrid for some reason. There was no denying how handsome he was; blonde hair falling into his sharp eyes and a lean but slightly muscular form.

Trying to shake off your thoughts, your eyes flit to the hand currently wrapped around your wrist and you can’t help but admire how delicate and pretty his hands were. Again, your mind conjures up situations that you probably shouldn’t be thinking about right now and you really hope Jihoon can’t tell.

When he decides he’s done, he lets go of your wrist, quietly taking a sip of his drink before setting it down on the tabletop again. “Um, sorry. I don’t… I just wanted to, um, s-smell you? I guess, um, snake thing, probably. Just wanted to get to know my, uh, owner.” You nod at his explanation, settling back into your seat as you try to push out all the inappropriate thoughts you just had.

“You’re very warm.”

That night when you split off for bed, you wish him a good night's rest; making sure the snake hybrid has everything he needs before you make a beeline for your bedroom, hastily locking the door behind you as you get ready for bed.  There really was no denying how attractive Jihoon was, but damn, he had literally just moved in today and your mind and heart were already racing. You try to think of everything but Jihoon when you slip under your covers for bed and hope that you can get a good night’s rest yourself.

But you feel bad. Really really bad. You’re almost certain satan has a special seat in hell for people like you. 

But you can’t help the way your hands roam all over your body as you lay under the bed sheets, fingers deep inside your pussy as you imagine them to be Jihoon’s instead. It was questionably an innocent gesture earlier, but your mind can’t help but conjure images of his tongue all over your skin and his delicate fingers fucking you nice and hard. The contrast of his colder skin on your warm skin has your toes curling imagining him playing with your nipples and wrapped around your throat. Damn, you think, I really need to get laid soon or this’ll get bad.

You’re almost certain your lip is bleeding from how hard you’re trying to keep your moans in when you cum around your fingers; the image of a particular snake hybrid dancing behind your eyelids even when the bliss starts to ebb away.

Muttering curses underneath your breath, you get up, wiping your wet fingers onto your shirt as you tug it off and throw it into the hamper, sliding off your wet panties and chucking them in as well. Sighing, you really hope Jihoon’s sense of smell isn’t as strong as other hybrids as you step into your closet to get a change of clothes.

Realization hits you like a brick when the back of your head slams against the pillow once you lay back down.

This was going to be harder than you expected.

[spaceskam]

Follow up to this ❤️ special thanks to ul1tsa on ao3 for idea!

ao3

Warnings: talk Jesse and his bullshit & bombs

Michael waited a few weeks before he got drunk and lost that thing in his brain that kept him from doing dumb shit.

He went to the cabin and unlocked the door with his key. He didn't usually use keys, he had one in his brain, but there was something about having a key to Alex's place that felt special. Besides, he needed to make sure that's actually what it was. He pushed the door open and tried the light switches. The bulb on the porch was out. He'd need to get a new one.

He slowly navigated around the space, making a list of tiny things that were bothersome. He didn't even know if he was welcome here... But why else would Alex give him a key?

It was a two bedroom and had a bathroom that connected the two rooms. The kitchen was small and it didn't have a washing machine or dryer. The living room was old. None of it looked like Alex. What exactly would Alex's space even look like? He'd figure it out.

He went back outside to the wrap around porch, walking around it slowly and holding onto the rail. There were a few old boards that could stand being replaced. There was a window unit in each bedroom. He didn't figure it'd be too hard to change that for a central air system.

Michael went back inside and towards the kitchen. The refrigerator was unplugged, so he moved it to plug it back in. The cabinets were empty aside from some old canned beans and a single pan. He went back to the living room.

The couch was even more uncomfortable than he remembered, hard and a little dusty. He sat down anyway and rubbed his hand over it. When he laid down and breathed in, it didn't smell like Alex. It was unfair. Cruel, even.

He laid there anyway, lulling himself to sleep with the memory of Alex's skin.

-

It became a thing.

When his mind got chaotic and he needed something to do with his hands, he'd go to the cabin. He replaced boards, cleaned, hooked up a washing machine and dryer. After a couple months, he bought a comfier couch from an old lady who was selling it. He took down the hunting memoribillia and tried to find things that Alex might like. A couple trinkets bought during a trip to the nearby reservation, a painting bought from an artist who showed her work at the renaissance festival, and a hand-woven blanket from an older lady who traveled all the way from the Navajo Nation to sell the two she made a month at the market–and then vowed that he would never pay that much money for anything ever again.

He started spending more time there than he spent at his airstream and, after passing out on the couch after spending his entire day off trying to set up a central air system, he decided it might be worth buying food. So he did. He bought a few things, added three extra locks to the front and back doors, and brought his thrifted silverware and dishes from the airstream to set up a place for himself there.

It was slowly coming together. It felt like a home. He bought a broom.

He didn't tell Isobel or Max about any of this, they didn't need to know about Alex. Instead, Michael kept it to himself and spun lies about where he was whenever they asked questions. Usually they didn't. He was Michael, after all, it wasn't that odd for him to drop off the map.

He eventually started fixing up the bedrooms which were a little harder. It looked too much like a middle aged man stayed there and that was absolutely not the look he was going for. He got new bedspreads and sheets from a discount store and matching bedside tables from the dump that only needed some sanding and some finish to make nice. A new showerhead made out of things he found around the junkyard fit nice too. He played with the water heater until it stopped needing to be manually reset every 60 gallons, sanded and put finish on the dresser, built a new bed frame and headboard out of scrap wood, and fixed the janky doorknob of the closet. It looked livable now.

Alex's birthday came around and he didn't have a number to reach him, so Michael did something a little stupid and a little sentimental and found himself at a thrift store. He bought a set of two identical rocking chairs for the back porch. He almost threw them out three times, but he decided on leaving them there and just ignoring them until he stopped feeling like they were too much.

There was something about the cabin as it came together that both felt like home and like it was far  too sacred to make a mess of. He kept it cleaner than he'd ever kept a place before. The dishes were always done, his dirty clothes always ended up in the laundry basket, never let himself get drunk enough that he'd be compelled to make a mess, and he swept and mopped every Sunday. His shampoo and body wash didn't leave rings in the bathtub.

It was nice.

-

It was about a year into renovating and six months into practically moving in when he found a broken telecision in the junkyard that someone had dropped.off. Curiosity got the best of him and he found himself trying to make it work in his free time. There was a strange sense of pride when he plugged it in and it turned on, the picture only slightly tinted blue and the sound as perfect as the speakers would allow. He wrapped it up in a couple blankets and loaded it into his truck, stopping by a thrift store on the way to the cabin to buy a few interesting DVDs for 50¢ a piece. He couldn't remember the last time he actively sat down to watch a movie for fun.

It took about thirty minutes to mount it above the fireplace, but eventually it was up and he found himself smiling as he put in a shitty mid-2000s straight-to-DVD teen movie. It played easily and he smiled wider. If there was one thing fixing up the cabin did, it was make him smile. It felt good to fix things up.

Michael grabbed a beer that was beside the leftovers in the fridge and settled on the couch, kicking his shoes off and pulling a blanket onto his lap. His phone was on the coffee table and charging with an alarm queued up to wake him up for work in the morning .It was the most normal he'd ever felt and he never wanted to give it back.

And it seemed like he wouldn't have to until the door creaked open.

Michael shot to his feet, standing like he was caught red handed as Alex stepped inside. He was still in uniform, a duffle bag hanging off his shoulder. His eyes were wide with wonder, though, as he looked around at all the shit Michael had done. It was the first time he regretted it.

"I'm sorry," Michael blurred out, catching Alex's attention, "I should've asked. I shouldn't have changed shit and I shouldn't have stayed here, I'm sorry, I'll go."

"Guerin, relax," Alex said, smiling in a pure way that Michael hadn't seen since they were seventeen, "I knew you were staying here."

"You did?" Michael asked skeptically.

"Yeah," he said, carefully putting down the duffle bag and closing the door, "Electric bill?"

Michael's eyes widened. "Oh, fuck, I forgot about that, I'm so sorry."

"Guerin," Alex laughed, "Stop. I'm happy you're staying here. I don't mind, really."

Michael swallowed and tried to believe him when he said he was happy. Because Michael was happy. Happy to be here, happy to see Alex, happy to see where tonight led. He tapped his hands against his thighs as Alex took another look around.

"I didn't expect all this, though," Alex breathed.

"It's, uh, not all of it. I can show you around?" Michael offered awkward. Alex smiled wider and nodded.

So Michael gave him a tour of his own house. He showed him the kitchen, the bathroom, the bedroom, and how the locks on the doors worked. Alex put the duffle bag in the closet and gently touched Michael's shirt that was hanging in there like he didn't believe it was actually there. Michael stood with his hands clasped behind his back and rocked up on his toes as Alex felt over the headboard he made and the blanket on the bed. He shook his head, looking over at Michael.

"I can't... I can't believe you did all of this," Alex said, looking at him. He wasn't smiling anymore. Instead, he looked like he was about to cry.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to–"

"Michael," he cut him, laughing softly as he came closer. He touched his arm, his hand sliding up as he moved in closer and draped his arms around Michael's neck. Michael rested his hands on his hips. "I love it so much. But it's so much. How much did you spend? Let me pay you back."

"No, don't. Most of it's stuff I fixed from broken stuff or I got for super cheap, I barely spent $300 over the last year," he said. He purposefully left out what he spent on the more decorative things, those could simply be gifts from all the birthdays he missed.

"Still," Alex said, swallowing hard as he reached out and touched Michael's cheek. Michael leaned into it. He hadn't realized how successful he'd been at distracting himself from missing Alex until then. "This is all so nice. I-I don't even know what to say. I didn't expect this at all."

"I mean... I just didn't like that it looked like an angry old man lived here, I get enough of that with Sanders," Michael said. He was struggling to see what about the dumb little things made Alex emotional. In fact, they were selfish. He wanted to pretend Alex wasn't a million miles away. That was as selfish as it got. But Alex laughed and kissed him and Michael stopped feeling guilty.

"Thank you," Alex gushed against his lips, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Everything about this was completely contrary to Alex's last visit home. It wasn't confusing or blurry and he felt safe. He felt loved. He clung to Alex and kissed him hard, trying to quench the desperate, overwhelming feeling in his stomach.

"I gotta take a shower, I'm gross from that fucking plane and I need to be clean for the things I  wanna do to you," Alex breathed, pulling away just a little. Michael nodded, going in for another kiss anyway. Alex giggled and leaned back. "It'll be quick, I promise."

"I worked all day, I need one too, so let me join?" Michael asked. Pleaded, really. He didn't want to let go.

"Good idea," Alex said, "Do you have a security system set up?"

"It's next on my list," Michael said honestly. Alex grinned, cupping his cheek in his hand and slowly starting to pull him to the bathroom.

"Good boy."

-

"Can I tell you something?"

"Anything and you know it."

Alex huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes, staring up at the ceiling. Michael loved seeing him like that. His hair was slightly past regulation, laying on his forehead and smashed against the pillow. After a long shower and stumbling into bed, they'd finally wore themselves out. Now they were in bed in Alex's house.

Their house.

Alex shifted to face him, face a little too serious consider the circumstances. Michael slowly faded to seriousness to fit it. Alex reached out, fingers grazing Michael's cheek and down his neck, over his shoulder, down to his torn up hand. Michael very quickly got serious and watched him pull his hand up to his lips.

"It's embarassing," Alex said.

"Since when have I been known to judge you?" Michael asked, stretching his leg out to wedge between Alex's. Alex parted his knees just enough to lock their legs together.

"I just... I've been thinking about my dad," Alex whispered.

"Uh oh," Michael said, trying to lighten the mood. Alex rolled his eyes.

"I've been trying to work through all my issues, I guess, since I realized you were staying here. I want this to work, you know?" Alex said and Michael was all ears, "And I think I didn't realize he was a bad guy until I saw him do this."

"What do you mean?" Michael said before he could process if that was a smart thing to ask.

"Like, I spent so many years thinking that my mom was the bad one because she left and at least my dad was there. It didn't matter if he beat me as long as he was there," Alex explained. Michael didn't really understand, but, with all the things they felt that overlapped, it was fine if he didn't understand that one thing. "And I... Even when I rebelled, I just wanted his approval. Part of me still does. I think I always will. Which is stupid because all the attention he gives me is solely on his terms, especially when it's positive."

"He's not worth it."

"I know," Alex said, smiling slightly before he kissed his hand again, "Logically, I know. But illogically... I'm still trying to remind myself he's a bad guy. It just took me so long to see it."

Michael didn't say anything, simply nodded and let Alex touch him as he needed to keep himself calm. Whatever kept him in bed, kept him in their space. He didn't know how long Alex was going to be home and he was too scared to ask, so he didn't.

"But, I'm trying," Alex sighed, looking at him in the eyes. He was so intense with every look and sometimes Michael felt compelled to look away, but not in moments like this. Never in moments like this. "I don't want to mess this up by trying to please him."

"I don't wanna fuck up either."

"I think we're on a good track, though," Alex smiled, tightening his legs and tugging Michael impossibly close. Just where he wanted to be. "Off topic, but I'm hungry."

Michael laughed softly and was incredibly thankful for a subject change. "I have leftover pasta in the fridge if you want that."

Alex smiled ridiculously wide for something as meaningless as day old pasta.

"Leftovers," Alex repeated in a whimsical tone, "You're gonna make a good little househusband."

"Shut the fuck up," Michael laughed, shoving his shoulder. Alex laughed right back and moved to get up. Michael followed suit without question. There was no way he was leaving his side.

"Let's eat."

-

Michael woke up to his alarm and an empty bed.

Panic struck him and he thought about calling out for Alex, but his voice wouldn't work as if subconsciously knowing the answer. Terrified, even. He slowly pushed himself out of bed, pulling on a pair of jeans. Dread continued to pool in him as he tiptoed out of the room and into the empty living room. But it smelled like coffee which was definitely a good sign.

It took him only a few seconds to see that Alex was out on the back porch in one of the rocking chairs. His heart seemed to skip a beat or two or four. The sun hit his shirtless body perfectly and he seemed to fucking glow. Michael had to take a few deep breaths before he stepped outside.

""Morning," Alex hummed, looking over at him. His hair was still a mess, but he looked better rested than Michael had seen him in a long time.

"I thought you left," he said stupidly. Alex shook his head.

"I can't really sleep in anymore and I didn't wanna wake you up. Sorry if I scared you."

"It's okay," he said. And it really, really was. This was the perfect sight to see in the morning and it made him angry at Sanders for employing him. "I, uh, I have to go to work. I can call in, though."

"Don't," Alex said with a warm smile, "I'll be here when you get home."

Michael felt his whole body heat up at that. Home. Alex would be here. He wasn't sure he would actually believe it until he saw it.

"Yeah, uh," Michael said, clearing his throat, "How-how, like, how long are you..."

"Michael," Alex said, standing up and walking closer. Michael was going to melt if he kept saying his name. Alex kept his mug firmly in one hand and touched his cheek with the other. "I'm home for a month."

"A month," Michael breathed. Alex smiled and nodded, leaning forward to kiss him. It sounded like a short period of time, but it would be longest consecutive time they'd ever spent together. Ever. It sounded fake.

"So, go to work. I'm not going anywhere," he promised. It was hard to listen, but he did.

And you know what? Alex was home when he got there that afternoon.

-

"Where the fuxk are you living?"

"Airstream."

Michael spoke casually as Isobel stood by his feet as he worked on the car. He knew it was wrong to lie to her about something like this, but, fuck, he was barely sure this was real himself. He'd woken up to Alex for three whole weeks and he only had one left. He wasn't wasting that time and he wasn't bursting his domestic bubble.

"Stop lying to me! You haven't lived at the airstream for months now," Isobel argued, "You're never here at night and if I call you, it takes you for fucking ever to get to my house. Where are you staying?"

He sighed, trying to ignore her more and more. It didn't work very well as she stood her ground and basically decided she would follow him when he left work if he didn't tell her.

"It's a cabin outside of town, okay?" he caved, deciding on a half-truth. He didn't need to say it was Alex's.

"A cabin?" Isobel asked skeptically, "And you just haven't told me or shown me? What if something happens? I need to know where to find you, Michael."

"Fine, fine, okay?" he sighed, "Just, give me a week. It's a fucking wreck."

"You promise?" she asked. He nodded. "Good."

If he couldn't keep his home a secret, he could at least keep Alex to himself for a little while. He could deal with that later. In a week, his house would be empty. In a week, his bed would be empty.

He could deal with her then.

-

The bed was a lot of colder than he remembered.

-

January 30th, 2017 at 21:45.

Or, at least that's when Michael found out. The actual event happened on the 26th, a bombing injuring 30 Airmen and killing 3. There wasn't an article about it and he didn't receive a call. Instead, when he was stalking one of the mothers of a guy in Alex's group, he saw she posted about the bombing and saying her son was one of the lucky ones and thanking God. Michael nearly had a breakdown.

He spent the next hour calling Alex and when that didn't work, he started calling down a list of military hospitals. He found him eventually at Landstuhl and had to lie about being his brother to get him on the phone along with a warning about him being drugged up. But at least he was alive.

"Alex?" Michael whispered. Once again, he found him scared that Alex wouldn't answer. But he's spent an hour panicking and he wasn't about to just not talk.

"Huh?" Alex said, voice hoarse. Michael closed his eyes, bowing his head. It was small, but it was something.

"Hey," Michael croaked, doing his best not to cry. He wanted to go see him. He couldn't. It didn't work that way. As nice as it was when they pretended they didn't have a care in they world, they did have a care. His name was Jesse Manes. Not to mention the giant alien hole he hadn't even told Alex about... "You scared me."

"Sorry," Alex said. Michael breathed in deep.

"No, it's okay. How are you feeling?"

"Tired," he whined, "I wanna see you "

Michael looked up, blinking away tears as quick as he could. It was difficult, but he managed it. He could cry later.

"I know, I wanna see you too. Maybe you can come home soon and I can," Michael suggested. Alex hummed a noncommittal tune. "So, uh, what all happened? Did you get, um, get burned or something?"

"A little," Alex said. Michael swallowed harshly. "Hey, you know what they did? They took my leg."

Michael's breath caught in his throat.

"What?"

"My leg," Alex repeated, that sort of dazed tone in his voice, "Couldn't save it, had to go."

Michael didn't know what to say. He didn't know how he was supposed to react to this. There wasn't a handbook. Instead of letting himself react like he was the one who lost something, he fed off of Alex's tone.

"How do you feel about that?" Michael asked. Alex hummed.

"My foot itched all day and there was nothing to scratch."

Michael huffed a laugh, rubbing the hell of his hand beneath his eyes to try to get rid of the tears.

"Well, if that's the worst of it, sounds like you're doing good."

"They gave me so many drugs," Alex told him, yawning halfway through. Michael smiled and nodded even though he couldn't see him. "I'm tired."

"Do you want me to let you go to sleep?" Michael asked. Alex didn't answer and that felt like an answer enough. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Mhm."

"I love you so much," Michael said. He didn't think about it, he just said it. It needed to be said.

"Mhm."

Michael huffed another laugh again, "Goodnight, Alex."

He ended the call and looked around the house that he'd spent over a year of his life renovating. He tried to picture Alex in it again, a version of Alex who might need accessibilities he didn't think of when he did things the first time around.

And now he had new projects.

-

Turns out it was pretty easy to widen doorways.

It took Michael about two days to widen one Interior door, ripping off the door frame and sawing through the wall itself. He widened them all from 30" to 38" in width and felt thankful that the exterior doors were all double doors. He didn't even know if Alex would be using a wheelchair, but it felt like a safe option regardless.

He ripped out the tub from the bathroom, replacing it with one with a little more traction on the bottom. He installed bars all around the bathroom and a wooden seat that was attached to the wall so it could fold up or down when he needed it. 

Again, he found himself taking a lap around the porch to check for any loose boards or nails. He fixed any that even might've been questionable. It gave him the idea to add ramps beside the steps to the porch. He built them and jumped on them as hard as he could go make sure they didn't break.

It helped when he got angry–ngry at something, angry at nothing, angry at everything–to put things back together again. It made him feel useful even when phone calls consisted of Alex being short with him and hanging up. He was focusing on PT and learning how to use a prosthetic and Michael knew it was frustrating. He could hear it in his voice even when he refused to talk about it. He always refused to talk about it. Some days he refused to talk at all.

He refused to let it out distance between them.

On extra bad days, Michael would drink and Google random accessibility ideas. He knew Alex. As sweet as he thought his renovating for him was, he knew Alex would be too stubborn to ask him for help on anything. He wanted to make it so he didn't have to as much as possible. Open spaces, all but gluing the rug down, a bench at the foot of the bed, a chair in the bathroom, a stool with wheels in the kitchen, sanding down the sharp edges of the kitchen table, dumb shit that might help maybe once.

He was trying because Alex was trying. They still wanted to make this work.

And they were going to no matter what.

[theyrejustbehindtheveil]

ML Secret Santa 2020

Hi @stockered, i come bearing your gift for this years @mlsecretsanta. Happy Holidays!

[Read on AO3]

It is a known fact that ladybugs hibernate over the winter. It is also a known fact that they spend the winter huddled in groups for warmth. A fact less widely bandied about is that holders of the miraculous tend to develop traits in common with their animal namesakes over time. (Adrien’s fingernails are incredibly sharp these days. As are his teeth. He keeps biting his tongue. ow ).

It is three days after the weather starts to turn cold and grey in Paris that Alya pokes her head up into Marinette’s room and is almost smothered by a falling pile of wool that topples directly onto her head.

“Mhrbthghmph,” says Alya, which would have been a shout of “Marinette!”, if it wasn’t for the falling pile of wool.

“What the fuck?” she says, once all the wool has tumbled past her to thump its way down to the floor below.

“Alya?” comes the slightly muffled response.

She can hear Marinette’s voice, but she can’t see her. Then, after a moment, the pile of blankets heaped on Marinette’s bed shifts and then falls away to let Marinette’s head poke free.

“You okay under there, Mari?”

Marinette shifts slightly further upright with a grumble. “It’s cooold, Alya,” she whines.

Alya blinks in slight surprise. Even though it is a bit cold outside, Marinette’s room, being both at the top of the house and above the bakery ovens, is definitely warmer than the outside weather. Even so, Marinette has built herself a blanket nest and is curled up underneath it.

Alya shakes off her slight confusion. Odd as it is, Marinette does look incredibly cosy. She drops her bag on the floor, resigning herself to the fact that they probably won’t be going out like they’d planned. She shucks her coat onto the floor. “I’m coming in. Brace yourself, girl,” she says, before dropping on top of Marinette with a gentle fwump . Marinette’s giggle is slightly muffled, but Alya can hear it clearly, and smiles as she pulls out her phone, and gets comfortable.

______________________________________________________________________

Marinette is late again. She lives so close and yet according to Nino, she hasn’t gone a week since starting lycée without being late at least once.

Today, she is later than usual, and the weather outside is cold and grey and Mme Bustier is already rummaging on her desk for the roll. She glances worriedly at the door, and then relaxes slightly at the sound of hurrying footsteps approaching the classroom. Marinette rounds the edge of the doorway, and Alya grins at her, before she notices her outfit.

Marinette has slowly been adding more and more layers for the trip to school, and today, Alya can see at least three jumpers layered under her coat.

“Marinette, so nice of you to join us,” Mme. Bustier says.

Marinette grimaces as she takes her seat. “Sorry, Mme. Bustier.”

Alya leans over to Marinette as Mme. Bustier turns away. “Trouble getting out of bed?”

“My bed is warm and the outside is so so cooold, Alya,” she whines as she tugs her books out of her bag. She tugs the cuffs of her top jumper over her hands and huddles down into the scarf she hasn’t taken off yet.

Alya laughs, before they have to turn and start the lesson, but as Marinette’s attention is turned towards the font of the classroom, she frowns in concern. It is cold, but surely its not so cold as to warrant so many layers.

______________________________________________________________________

Ice is crystallizing on Marinettes window when she lands on her balcony with a shiver. Winter is finally making its presence known with a vengeance, and it’s making everything generally even more unpleasant. Worst of all are the late night akuma fights. She’s convinced that both her and Chat are going to turn into icicles by the western new year.

She drops her transformation reluctantly, and feels Tikki make a beeline to tuck herself under the scarf she’d pulled on in a hurry before leaving for the akuma fight earlier that afternoon. She fumbles the catch of the window lock slightly in the cold, before tumbling gratefully into her much warmer bedroom.

She shucks her outer layers off onto the floor and burrows quickly under her blankets before grabbing her phone off the shelf above her pillow. She flicks quickly to the messaging app that Tikki had managed to magic onto her phone, same as the one on her yoyo. Just like after every other akuma, Chat has left her a message.

CN: ❄❄❄❄😠

She grins.

LB: IDK how you got emojis on this thing, kitty, but i agree

CN: I bribed Plagg. He’ll do almost anything for extra stinky cheese 🧀 .

Marinette curls further under her doona with a grin. She rubs the cold tip of her nose before tapping out a reply.

LB: urgh, i’d like to make hawkmoth fight these akuma’s in the cold, see how he likes it >:(

CN: Take away his space heater!

LB: cut the power to his evil lair!!

CN: Cataclysfkdnflgm

Marinette stares at her phone, befuddled by his response.

LB: ?????

LB: chat??

She frowns in concern when he still doesn’t respond

LB: you ok chat?

CN: Sorry! Plagg surprised me and I dropped my phone!

LB: urgh, we should be going to sleep, i have class so early in the morning.

CN: Me too 😔 .

Marinette sighs, tapping out one final message as she huddles down into her blankets.

LB: goodnight, chat

CN: Goodnight, My Lady.

After plugging her phone in for the night, she curls gratefully under the warmth of her doona. This winter feels particularly cold, and she can’t help a shiver at the thought of it getting colder than it already is.

______________________________________________________________________

Alya bursts into the classroom accompanied by a flurry of cold air and a slightly manic grin. She goes to take her seat next to Marinette, only to find Marinette’s usual seat occupied by Nino.

And then she looks closer, and sees that curled in next to Nino is a bundle of winter wear topped by Marinette’s dark hair. She takes her seat next to the pair of them, and watches in fascination as Marinette appears to try and become one with Nino’s puffer jacket.

“Is Mari okay?”

“I think she’s just really super cold, dude.”

Adrien sticks his head over the desk in front of Nino. “He was talking to Kim, and she grabbed him on his way past before he could sit down.”

Alya chuckles. “It’s not even that cold, Mari,” she says, reaching out to tweak the end of Marinette’s pigtail. “Give her here, Nino.”

Nino sighs gently, “Cmon, dude. It’s Alya’s turn for snuggles,” he coaxes, as he gently lever’s Marinette off his side. It takes a minute before she’s detached enough that Nino can tip her into Alya’s side. The moment Marinette makes contact with Alya’s shoulder, she lets out a little sigh and burrows into Alya’s side.

Adrien grins at the pair of them, before his smile softens as he looks at Marinette. Alya suppresses a gleeful grin at his expression. He keeps looking at Marinette even as he addresses Alya. “I’ll lend her my notes, Alya. I’ll email them over after I get home.”

He turns back around as Nino takes his seat and Mme. Bustier claps to call everyone’s attention to the front of the classroom to start taking the roll.

______________________________________________________________________

The winter holidays started five days ago, and Alya is already missing her friends. It's really getting too cold to go out chasing akuma fights (loath as she is to concede), and the grey mornings light up streets edged by slush. According to the texts they've been sending each other, Marinette has barely left the house since school ended, because “its to coold to be outside, alyaa :(“ . She’s a bit worried about her bestie, honestly. Even Nino, who’s known her for years, says she never used to seem this sensitive to the cold weather.

Luckily, Alya has a cunning plan.

Her phone lights up with a bunch of texts from Nino

BF 🐢 : adrien-napping a success

BF 🐢 : operation Blanket Pile™ is a go!

BF 🐢 : just getting snacs, and we are on our way

BF 🐢 : adrien has the blankets

BF 🐢 : eta 10 💙

Alya smiles at her phone, then hefts her bag and starts walking towards Marinette’s.

Als ❤️ : omw jst laeving park nw will wait fr u outside side dorr maris parents kno were cming see u soon xo babe ❤️

It’s not long before she sees the pair approach from the direction of the lycée . Nino is bouncing along as he talks excitedly with Adrien, who has both his hands full managing a slightly teetering stack of blankets. As they approach, Alya stretches up on her toes to wave at them.

Nino grins as they join her at the door. Adrien, in contrast, offers a shy smile and hangs back a little, as though unsure of his welcome. She knows he’s been to see Marinette before, he has no reason to be shy about it, but Nino seems unconcerned, so Alya turns to open the door so they can all go inside.

The bakery is warm, and Alya can see Tom at the counter, gregarious and entertaining for the customers. Sabine is keeping an eye on the ovens from in the back as they pass, and Alya waves to her as their little group goes by. They have to take their shoes off at the top of the stairs, which almost causes an incident when Adrien tries to take off his shoes without first handing over his blanket burden. Luckily, his balance is as good as Marinette’s is bad, and he rights himself and his blanket stack without stacking it or dropping anything.

Nino leads the way to Marinette’s room and shouts up the stairs with glee.

“Marinette, dude!” he announces. “Can we come up? We have blankets!”

“And snacks!” Alya adds.

There’s a slight thump, which means Marinette probably just fell off of her desk chair again. Or maybe dropped a textbook. The trapdoor lifts and her head pokes over the edge of the hole at the top of the stairs. She’s braided her hair over one shoulder today, almost certainly because she didn’t expect visitors. The plait is falling apart a little, loose strands falling free and messy. She tucks some behind one ear as she grins at them, and Adrien lets out a small squeak from beside Alya at the gesture.

“What are you guys doing here?” Marinette exclaims.

“We have come to bury you in blankets!” Alya calls. “Also, we missed hanging out with you, girl.”

Marinette laughs. “I’ll never say no to blankets.” Even in the warmth of her room, she’s clearly wearing at least one jumper. “Come in!”

They all troop up the stairs, and Alya looks around the room, noticing that the blankets seem to be multiplying in here.

“Right. Let’s get this blanket party started,” she says, and Adrien and Nino set to building the ultimate blanket nest in the middle of the floor as she bounds up to Marinette and pulls her into a tight hug. Marinette lets out a slight squeak by her left ear, before sighing gently and melting into the hug.

“Mmm, you're so warm, Alya,” she mumbles.

Alya chuckles and leads her over to the blankets, Adrien and Nino already buried in the layers. “Mandatory friendship cuddles are even warmer.” she says, settling Marinette next to Adrien before plopping down next to her and swaddling blankets around them both.

It ends, as it sort of began, in a pile of blankets and the warmth of friendship and bakery ovens. Marinette falls asleep fairly soon after, her head buried Alya’s shoulder and her arm curled around Adrien. The rest of them talk the afternoon quietly away as snow starts to drift down outside. Alya tucks one arm around Nino and watches fondly as Adrien curls into Marinette.

It is, after all, a perfect afternoon.

FINIS

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @herewegohappiness!

Merry Christmas to @herewegohappiness! I hope you like this. I wish it was like twice as long, but the cards were not falling right for me this time.

Read on AO3

******

Hale Christmas Tree Farm

"Hey, Dad," Stiles grinned as he tumbled out of his jeep and into his father's arms. "Did you miss me?"

"No, I’ve been enjoying the peace and quiet." Dad squeezed him back.

“Rude!” Stiles gasped while his dad chuckled.

“Of course I missed you, kiddo, I only tell you that every time you call.”

"Great," Stiles jumped back and clapped his hand to his dad's shoulder, "then you won't mind helping me lug all my bags in."

Dad rolled his eyes, but he followed Stiles around to the trunk and slung a duffel over his shoulder.

"So, uh, hey." Stiles shut the door and tried to look uninterested. "Do you know if Derek is still hiring for the tree farm?"

Dad sighed. "Yes, he is. I'm sure he's keeping his "Hiring" sign up until you walk through his gate."

"Dad!" Stiles' face flamed. "It's a very busy time of year for him, you should know. And I think I count as an experienced farm hand by now, so I'm a valuable employee, and that's it."

Dad shook his head and walked away, muttering, "I'll believe that when Hale cools it with the cow eyes."

Stiles shook his head and stomped up to his room; the only way Derek was giving him cow eyes was in his dreams.

===

Stiles took the familiar drive out to Hale Farm the next morning, pulling up in front of the farm house a few hours before the weekday crowds would start showing up. Derek stalked out the front door as Stiles turned off the jeep, wiping his hands on a tea towel.

"Morning, Derek!" Stiles chirped as he hopped out of his jeep. "My dad told me you were still looking for help over the holidays?”

"Yeah," Derek frowned. "If you're up for it, I'll start putting you on the schedule. Same time frame as last year?"

"Yup," Stiles chirped. "I'm pretty much available whenever. I can start today if you need the extra hands."

"Sure. You can head out to the pony ring to find Boyd, I'm sure he can find something for you to do. I'll get together some paperwork for you to sign at lunch."

"Great, thanks, Derek!"

Derek just nodded and headed back inside, leaving Stiles to appreciate that the view from behind had only gotten better in his absence before he headed off to find Boyd.

Stiles liked working at the tree farm, for all that it could get hectic, and he settled into the rhythm of the job like a familiar glove.

===

The sky was dark and heavy with clouds when Stiles got to the farm about two weeks after he started, and the wind cut straight through his clothes when he got out of the car. Stiles waved to Erica as she pulled her pickup in behind Stiles’ Jeep and the two of them got to work getting the attractions ready. Stiles didn’t know what kind of crazy person would show up at a Christmas tree farm with the storm of the decade bearing down on them, but Erica just rolled her eyes when Stiles voiced that thought.

“We’ll probably have more people than usual show up,” Erica said. “Parents will want to get their kids good and tired before they’re cooped up in the house for who knows how long for the storm.”

“That makes a terrible kind of sense,” Stiles sighed.

Derek emerged from somewhere out in the fields after a while, Boyd in tow. “You two almost ready here?” He frowned, looking around the area.

“Just about done,” Stiles said.

“Good. I'm closing the farm at 2 whether or not we still have people here, so start shutting everything down at 1:30 to give everyone plenty of time to get out of here. I don't want anyone getting stuck on the road home, including all of you."

"Got it, chief," Erica saluted. "Are you gonna be around to get the cranky parents off the lot?"

"Obviously," Derek rolled his eyes.

"Yeah," Stiles grinned, "really let those people-skills out and see who wants to stay here then."

Derek bared his teeth at Stiles and stomped off toward the house, leaving Boyd behind.

"Come on, baby," Erica waved Boyd over to the pony ring, "help me get these little demons presentable."

===

Erica was right about the parents in the end, and they had nearly twice the number of people on the farm as usual for a weekday. They were also surprisingly resistant towards leaving at a reasonable time that would get their children home safely, and Derek had to break out his grumpiest bitchface to get the most stubborn among them off of the property by 2:15, even though it had started snowing at 12:45. Derek disappeared out into the fields again, leaving Stiles, Erica, and Boyd to clean up the yard while Isaac dealt with the animals.

Isaac came out of the barn about half an hour after the last set of guests had given in and left. “Derek hasn’t sent anyone home yet?” he asked, looking spooked.

“No, but I'm just about done with my part of the yard,” Stiles said. “If you want, you can head home now and I can finish up with the animals. I think my jeep is a little more storm-worthy than your Honda."

"Really?" The tension melted out of Isaac's frame as Stiles nodded. "Thanks, Stiles, you're a life-saver. I'll owe you one next time you don't like the shift schedule."

"I'm holding you to that. Now get out of here, I don't want to see your car in the ditch on the way home."

Isaac grinned and jogged off while Stiles packed up the last of the tools from his area. He waved goodbye to Erica and Boyd, who looked like they were also about done, then headed to the barn with the toolbox to put it away and see what the animals needed done. It had been a long time since Derek had put him on any animal duties and he was looking forward to rubbing down the ponies.

===

The barn door swung open about an hour later as Stiles was finishing up, an icy gust of wind sweeping a small avalanche of snow inside along with Derek.

"Isaac," Derek called, stomping snow off of his feet and unwinding a snow-covered scarf from around his neck, "I'm not comfortable driving out there, I think you're gonna have to stay the night."

"Uh, hey, not Isaac." Stiles shut the cabinet where he'd been putting away the last of the supplies.

"Stiles." Derek straightened up, frowning. "What are you doing still here?"

"Isaac seemed freaked about the storm, so I told him he could head home after I finished up in the yard. I guess I kind of lost track of time in here, is it really bad out?"

"Yeah," Derek scowled, clutching at his scarf, "it's too dangerous to get on the roads right now. They said it was even worse than they thought it would be."

"Shit." Stiles scrubbed his hands over his face. "I guess I should call my dad."

"Yeah. And of course you're spending the night here, so tell him not to worry." Derek stared at the floor as he re-wrapped his scarf around his neck, now free of snow.

"I am, am I?" Stiles smirked as he pulled out his phone.

"Obviously. I'm not gonna let you get yourself killed wrapping your car around a tree. Are you done in here?"

"Yeah, I just finished up."

"Then come on into the house and you can let your dad know you won't be coming home tonight."

Stiles bundled up in all of the clothes he had taken off in the relative warmth of the barn and followed Derek out into the storm, where the wind nearly swept him off his feet. Derek grabbed his arm to steady him and didn't let go until they were in the mudroom at the back of the small farmhouse, shedding their snowy outer clothes. Stiles was shivering violently and getting inside the house proper didn't make things any better.

"Dude," he rounded on Derek, "turn on your heater, we're both gonna freeze to death in here."

Derek winced and Stiles' jaw dropped.

"Don't tell me you don't have a heater. What kind of self-flagellating bullshit is that?"

"I do have a heater, it's just... been on the fritz lately and I haven't had time to get someone out to fix it."

"Are you kidding me," Stiles groaned. "Tell me you at least have a fireplace."

Derek stared down at his socked feet. "Um, no."

It was Stiles' turn to wince, as he realized there was a pretty good reason for Derek not to have included a fireplace in the house he and Laura built to replace the one that had burned down with most of their family inside. "Uh, what about a space heater?"

"I've got one of those." Derek disappeared back into one of the bedrooms while Stiles wandered into the kitchen to get a glass of water. Derek emerged and plugged in the space heater on the counter. "Are you hungry?" He asked. "I've got a pan of chicken and veggies I was gonna put in the oven."

"Yeah, dude, that sounds great. I'm gonna let my dad know I'm stranded."

Derek nodded and Stiles ventured out into the living room to call his dad.

"Hey kiddo," Dad answered, "you make it back from the farm alright?"

"Uh, so about that, no. Derek didn't want me to leave by the time I finished up, so I'm staying here."

"That's nice of him, I'm glad he didn't let you drive with the way things have picked up out there in the last hour."

"I guess you didn't make it home?"

"No, my shift isn't over yet. We might camp out here tonight, or if it clears up a little one of the plow trucks might come by to pick us up. I'm not going to try driving a cruiser in these conditions."

"Okay. Stay safe, Dad, I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"You might be out there a couple of days, Stiles, it normally takes a while to get a plow out Derek's way in a storm this bad."

"Well, then I guess I'll see you when I see you."

"I love you, son, and be nice to Derek while you're out there."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Love you too dad, don't do anything too heroic."

Stiles wandered back into the kitchen and helped Derek make a salad and set the table while the chicken cooked.

"So," Stiles said after they sat down at the table to eat, "how would you feel about moving this to the couch where we can wrap up in blankets and not freeze to death."

Derek looked up in surprise. "Are you still cold?"

"Uh, yes! It is probably 50 degrees in here, max."

"Sorry," Derek muttered, poking at his food, "I guess I kind of got used to the cold."

Stiles snorted. "No, you're just weirdly resistant to the cold. I bet you're some kind of mutant."

Derek stared at Stiles with wide eyes.

"That was a joke, just so we're all clear here. I didn't mean to offend you somehow."

Derek grunted and looked down at his plate. "Come on," he stood up and grabbed his plate, "let's get you warmed up." Derek lead the way out into the living room and put on a cooking show while Stiles got settled on the couch in a nest of blankets. They watched a few episodes until Derek started nodding off. After his head nearly hit Stiles' shoulder Stiles reached out and turned the TV off.

"I think it's time for you to get to bed," he chuckled, nudging Derek awake with his elbow.

Derek groaned as he straightened and rubbed his eyes. "I'll go change the sheets for you."

"Wait wait wait, I'm not stealing your bed from you. Keep your sheets, I'll stay out here on the couch."

Derek huffed like Stiles had said something outrageous. "Fine. Then let me go grab the space heater for you."

"I'm not stealing your space heater from you, either!"

"Stiles, I'll be fine in a real bed. You're gonna be out here with only blankets on the couch, you need the heater more than me."

"I'm not gonna make you freeze just because I couldn't pay attention to the weather and leave before I got stranded out here."

"I'm not gonna take the bed and the heater." Derek glared at Stiles.

"Too bad, cuz I'm not taking them either."

"Fine, then why don't we share them?"

"Um." Stiles stared at Derek, who seemed surprised by his own suggestion. But this was the opportunity of a lifetime and Stiles wasn't about to pass it up. "Sure, big guy. That way we can share body heat and all, be even warmer."

Derek snorted, but he didn't back out of his suggestion as he stood up. "I'll go change the sheets, then. Do you want to take a shower and borrow some clothes?"

"Yeah, that would be great." Stiles followed Derek into his bedroom, where Derek pulled out a pair of underwear, sweats, and a T shirt for Stiles.

"There's a pack of extra toothbrushes under the sink you can use," Derek said.

"Thanks, man." Stiles grabbed the clothes and tried not to hyperventilate at the thought of wearing Derek's underwear.

He took a nice long, warm shower since Derek had one of those hot water heaters that never ran out, and only regretted it a tiny bit when he emerged out of the bathroom into the chilly hallway. The bedroom, at least, was pretty warm when Stiles opened the door. Derek was sitting on the bed reading a book and Stiles's heart gave an unexpected little pang of longing at the sight.

"Bathroom's all yours, big guy."

Derek smiled and put his book down to get up and head to the bathroom. Stiles jumped into the bed and tried to fall asleep before Derek got back, but he was only gone for five minutes, so that didn't work out. Derek puttered around the room for a minute straightening things before he crawled into bed with Stiles.

"'Night, Stiles," Derek murmured as he settled on his side, facing out toward the room.

"'Night," Stiles croaked. Derek seemed to fall asleep with no problem, but Stiles laid awake for several more minutes, staring at the shape of Derek's shoulder in the dark, before the day’s work finally caught up with him as well.

===

Stiles woke up to a face full of soft, dark hair, and Derek breathing gently against his shoulder. His heart kicked into overdrive almost before his brain had processed the situation.

Derek rubbed his cheek against Stiles' shoulder, stubble catching and pulling on Stiles' shirt, before resettling and curling his body a little closer to Stiles' with a satisfied little noise in his throat.

Stiles' heart skipped a beat.

"Derek?" he whispered.

Derek went stiff in Stiles' arms before shoving himself up and away from Stiles. "Sorry," he muttered, turning his face away, but not before Stiles caught sight of a hectic blush staining Derek's cheekbones.

"Hey," Stiles caught Derek by the bicep as he swung his legs over the bed in an attempt to escape. "What are you apologizing for?"

Derek swallowed hard and kept his face turned away from Stiles, but he stopped trying to leave. "I know that you don't... want that with me, so I shouldn't have taken advantage of the situation."

Stiles stared at the back of Derek's head. "What are you talking about?"

"Stiles," Derek started, sounding irritated.

"No," Stiles cut him off. "What planet have you been living on where I don't want to wake up in the morning cuddled up with you?"

"Um." Derek peaked over his shoulder at Stiles.

"Wherever you've been, I'd just like to set the record straight for the here and now and say that I would like nothing more than to wake up like that for the rest of my life."

"What?" Derek's eyes were wide as he wheeled around to look Stiles in the face.

"You better believe it, buddy," Stiles grinned. "As soon as the roads are cleared, I'm taking you on a date."

A smile broke over Derek's face like the dawn. "What are we gonna do until then?"

"Oh, baby," Stiles reached up to tug Derek back down in the bed with him, "I have plenty of ideas."

[leadforcareer]

How to Heat Your Home for Free with a Water Heater

Introduction

Introduction: If you’re like most people, the thought of heating your home by using a water heater is daunting. But don’t worry! There are a few easy ways to heat your home for free with a water heater. Here’s how to do it:

How to Heat Your Home for Free with a Water Heater.

When you’re looking for a free or low-cost water heater, it’s important to choose one that is compatible with your home. Do your research to find a heater that will fit comfortably in your space and has a reasonable price. You can also save by choosing a water heater that comes with the necessary parts already installed.

How to Installed a Water Heater

Once you have chosen the right water heater, it’s time to install it. Depending on your location, this may be as easy or difficult as following these steps:

-Locate the faucet where you plan to place the water heater

-Turn on the faucet and wait until the heaters light up

-Install the part of the water heater that corresponds to your faucet handle

-attach the hose to the fitting on the water heater and turn on the water heater

-return to your living room or bedroom and enjoy hot, clean water without having to worry about turning on a faucet all the time

How to Heat Your Home for Free with a Water Heater.

To find the right water heater for your home, you first need to determine the size of your home. Next, choose a water heater that is compatible with your home’s electrical wiring and plumbing. Finally, be sure to read the reviews before purchasing to ensure that the water heater is reliable and will heat your home safely.

How to Choose the Right Size Water Heater

Size doesn’t always have to be a factor when it comes to choosing a water heater. You can also consider how much space you’ll need to store the water heater, as well as how many people will be using it at once. If you have any concerns about whether or not a particular water heater will heat your home properly, ask an installer if he can test it out for you.

How to Use the Water Heater

Once you’ve chosen a water heater, it’s time to start using it! First, plug in the power cord and turn on the air conditioner or boiler in your house. Then use one of the included adapters (if needed) to connect the gas line from your tank directly to the hotwater line on top of your water heater! Once all connections are made, turn on your water heater and let it run for about 10 minutes so that it warmed up (or until you hear a loud hissing noise).

How to Keep the Water Heater Working Fine

If you find that your water is not heating up soon enough or if there are any abnormal noises coming from your new water heater, make sure that you unplugged all of our appliances in order to check for faults inside (it may take some time). If everything seems normal but still doesn't heat up or there's strange behavior from your new tank-pricedWater Heater, then know that something may has gone wrong during installation - check out our troubleshooting guide for more information!

How to Heat Your Home for Free with a Water Heater.

Before you buy a water heater, it’s important to choose the right one. Here are some factors to consider:

-How much room will the heater fit in your home?

-How big is your family and what size bedrooms and bathrooms will the heater be used in?

-What kind of heating system do you have?

-Do you want a water or heat pump?

-Will the water heater need to be connected to the oil or gas line?

-What kind of filters should you use?

-How often will you need to clean the water heater?

-How much money will it save you each year compared to running an oil or natural gas heating system)?

If all of these factors don’t match up with your budget, find a water heater that matches your needs by browsing through energy efficiency ratings and reviews. Additionally, some sellers offer free installation services on certain types of water heaters. Finally, make sure not to overspend on a new water heater – rather, look for one that offers great value for your money.

Conclusion

Heat your home for free with a water heater. By choosing the right water heater and using it correctly, you can heat your home for free. by following these simple steps, you can have your heating system up and running in no time.

[fanficsofmine]

Locked Out - Yixing Smut

Happy Hump Day - T✨

“Shit!” I rummaged through my purse for, what I assumed was the twenty seventh time, frustrated as hell.

It seemed as though I had left my house keys at my office. I had just walked into my apartment building from the downpour outside. I was shivering from my soaking wet hair dripping down my back. My phone was dead, and the front leasing office was closed since it was after hours.

“How in the fuck did I forget them?” I muttered to myself.

As a desperate last attempt, I dumped the bag upside down on the floor. I picked through the random piles of unnecessary junk that I stored in my bag, not finding the loose key anywhere. I cursed myself for taking it off of my keyring in the first place. This was just my luck.

I flopped down and sat against the apartment door. I threw my head backward, slamming it a bit too hard and also not caring enough to worry about the pain, letting out a frustrated huff of breath. What a perfectly horrible day.

My phone charger had bit the dust. No amount of tape and finagling it to sit in the perfect place to still work was sufficient any more. I had not taken a jacket in with me because I assumed the sun would stay out, and instead, I was met with a freak thunderstorm that hit in the three blocks from my job to my apartment complex. Naturally, I had managed to wear my only white shirt today as well, which now showed off a bit too much as it clung to my body.

I had not even heard my neighbor coming down the shared hallway that we had. It was not until I heard him clear his throat that my eyes snapped open.

There he was, in all of his perfection. Yixing; probably my perfect dream neighbor.

He was tall and handsome. Dark hair that was usually always styled a different way now hung dripping in front of his face. His pouty bottom lip formed a pout as he spread his arms out and said, “trapped in the rain too?”

I nodded and pointed at my door behind me as I said, “locked out, too. Dead phone so I can’t call my friend with my spare. One of those days.” My brow furrowed as I realized that I genuinely had no idea what to do from here. I nibbled at my bottom lip as I zoned out. I started to think about waiting for the rain to pass and walking back to work to get the key that I could now perfectly picture on my desk…

My thoughts were interrupted by Yixing’s hand waving in front of my face.

He offered me his hand and said, “come on. Let’s get you warmed up.”

After I was on my feet, he opened his apartment door and allowed me inside. I guess that I had expected a stereotypical bachelor pad with take out boxes lining the tables and Maxim Magazines as his “coffee table fillers.” I was, instead, pleasantly greeted by a tidy apartment. A little white dog bounced up to my feet, and I knelt down to pet it.

“I didn’t know you had a dog!” I gasped.

Yixing laughed, “I don’t. This is Vivi. I’m watching her for a friend.” He reached down and ruffled a spot between her ears.

“Come on.” Yixing nodded his head to the bedroom and waved for me to follow.

Instead, I stood frozen in place.

He chuckled at my reaction.

“I see you have an iPhone. I have a charger to match in my room; and I’m going to get you some dry clothes while we dry yours.”

I nodded, feeling embarrassed at the thoughts that my brain had had concerning him and a bedroom. I hoped that he would think that my cheeks flushing red would be because I was warming up, and not how silly I suddenly felt.

I gave him my phone to plug in and looked at a picture he kept on his nightstand.

“Your parents?” I asked.

He looked up from his drawers and smiled a gentle smile, nodding.He dug out a clean t-shirt and pair of sweatpants that were obviously going to be too long on me. Yixing shrugged, but held them out to me anyway.

“It’s something dry, at least.”

I thanked them as I took the clothes.

“You can shower if you want. It’ll help you warm up.” He walked to the bathroom and I heard the water start to run.

“Oh! Um, are you sure?” I asked, “I don’t want you to stay cold for a long time waiting for me.”

Yixing smirked and said, “I mean, we could shower together,” and then, when I was sure that my eyebrows had flown off of my face in surprise, he laughed and said, “joking. Sorry. Not trying to make you uncomfortable!”

He walked back out to the living room, shutting his bedroom door behind him.

What was this turn of events in my day?! How in the hell had I ended up in my hot neighbor’s bedroom after such a horrible string of events. Maybe karma was real and I had built up enough bad to deserve some good.

Granted, it was never how I had fantasized about ending up in his room, but it was better than nothing.

I shook my head to clear the thoughts that began to creep through my brain. I walked into the bathroom and felt the running water from the showerhead. It was a bit cold for my liking, so I tried to adjust it. The knob was stuck. I struggled with it for a couple of moments, and ended up annoyed. My shoulders drooped and I dramatically rolled my eyes toward the door.

Did I actually want a hotter shower enough to annoy Yixing with one more favor?

The timely shiver down my spine told me, “yes, bitch. You do.”

I opened the bedroom door to see Yixing with his back turned to me, shirtless, in front of a space heater. He was ruffling his hair under a towel.

I cleared my throat and diverted my eyes to the ceiling when he spun to face me, trying to show that I was doing my best to not be intrusive. It was difficult to not stare at his beautifully cut torso and wide chest. The few drops of rain that the towel had not caught ran down his neck and my breath hitched in my throat. He looked positively ethereal, even in dim apartment lighting and soaking wet; he could have been an angel.

“Um, the uh,” I cleared my throat again, attempting to regain my composure, “the knob for the hot water. It, uh… um… it…”

I felt like a blubbering moron.

“Ah shit. Yeah, that gets stuck. Here. I’ll come help you!” He followed me back into the bathroom and finagled the knob a couple of times. I reached my hand behind the curtain and told him when the water was finally at a temperature I liked.

“You should put in a maintenance request…” I started as I turned back to the bathroom, but I was cut short when I noticed how close Yixing was. His soft demeanor had faded, and his eyes were deeper and darker than they had seemed before. He was a mere inches away from me. I felt one of his hands hover over my waist, as if he could not decide what his next move was going to be.

“Is there anything else that I can help you with before you shower?” he whispered, lips so close to mine that I almost felt them move against mine.

Without thinking, I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him against me. His hand no longer hovered and pressed against my hip to force me against the bathroom wall. He tugged at my wet shirt and pulled it over my head. I made quick work of his jeans and removed my work skirt as well.

I shivered slightly as my bare skin landed against the cold wall.

Without saying a word, Yixing took my hand and gestured for me to follow him into the shower. We were both still in our wet underwear, but the steam from the hot water that was now cascading down his shoulders was beyond tempting. I was easily coerced in with him.

We spent the next few minutes wrapped in a passionate make out session. Yixing’s hands cupped my face and tangled in my hair. Mine rested on his lower back, occasionally clawing a bit when he would nibble at my ear or neck just right.

Finally, we rid ourselves of the last few articles of clothing that we had left, throwing them over the shower curtain rod.

It did not take long after that for Yixing to grab onto me tight. He took one of my legs and wrapped it around his waist, lining himself up with my entrance. He kissed my forehead and asked if I was ready.

Once I nodded, he slid his length fully into me. My head fell back and I gasped. He was longer and thicker than I had imagined, (and I had imagined him quite endowed). He hit places that had never been reached before, and I was unable to control my wanton moans of, “more,” and “please,” and “keep fucking me, Yixing.”

He obliged to my every request, picking up his pace as he slammed into me harder with every few thrusts. The combination of the hot water mixed with Yixing’s touch and thrusts created a euphoric feeling that quickly sent me over the edge.

I felt myself tighten around him, and heard Yixing gasp, “I’m gonna cum. You’re so tight.”

My orgasm burst from me and I felt Yixing follow suit quickly after.

He held me up after he pulled himself from me and placed my leg down. My knees slightly gave out and he chuckled as he wrapped me tight in his arms and spun me to feel the shower stream against my back now.

We stayed like this for a while before he suggested we dry off, (“for real this time,”) and order something to eat. He stepped out first and grabbed a fresh towel from the linen closet. I turned the water off, (suddenly the knobs offered me no resistance,) and he wrapped it around me. He wrapped a towel around his waist and kissed me one more time before we went to put on dry clothes and wash our wet ones.

I definitely thanked karma for the turn of events that day.

[band-of-bros]

Winnix and “Get your cold feet off me now.”

Taken from this prompt list

Dick wakes up slowly and freezing.  It takes a while to pull himself out of the clutches of sleep, and when he does, it’s only to try and burrow back under the covers against the freezing air.  New Jersey has been under a cold spell for the past few days, and apparently their heater decided it was too much to handle and stopped working properly.  Dick sighs and pokes Nix in the side.  He grunts and, satisfied that Nix didn’t stop breathing at some point during the night, Dick gets out of bed

“Grughhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Nix whines as a draft invades the small cocoon he had made out of the covers and Dick.

“Just going to check on the heater,” he says, putting on slippers and wincing as the cold material encases his feet.  It’s better than hardwood floors, he reminds himself.

Nix grunts again, and Dick picks up the fleece tie blanket that Skip and Faye gave them as a housewarming gift and drapes it over the quilt and lump that Nix makes on the bed.  He grabs a sweatshirt and heads to the basement.

After a few minutes, it’s clear that the thermostat is broken and Dick has no clue how to fix it.  He’s pretty sure Nix threw the instruction manual away, so this is probably a job for Luz.  When he looked at the clock earlier, it said 4:27 AM, so it’ll be a few hours until he’s awake and willing to take a look at it if he doesn’t have any other jobs today.  

Dick sighs, grabs the space heater that they bought earlier in an attempt to warm the basement a bit more, and heads back to the bedroom.  He makes a detour to the living room to grab the blanket draped over the back of the couch and bring that, too.

Nix is in the same position as Dick left him, and he grunts when Dick closes the door.

“Any luck?” he asks, but it’s muffled by blankets and sleep and sounds more like “nee luh?”

“It’s broken.  We’ll have to call Luz and see if he can fit us in to fix it.,” he replies, plugging the space heater in.  It’s not the best, but it’ll warm the room up a bit more.  He drapes the blanket from the couch over the bed, then takes off the slippers and climbs in.

“Get your cold feet off me now,” Nix says, words suddenly crystal clear.  Dick ignores him and instead wraps him in his arms, trying to absorb as much of the heat that Nix has stored in his cave under the covers as possible.

“Dick,” he whines.

“You’ll warm up.  We have extra blankets and the space heater.  I had to get out of bed and journey into the cold.  Indulge me.”

Nix sighs and melts into Dick, and he welcomes the warmth that the other relaxed body brings.

“Fine.  But as soon as it hits 6 you’re calling Luz,” he grumbles.

“Okay,” Dick replies.  “Anything for you, dear.”

“Stop,” Nix whines, scrunching in on himself.  Dick knows that his face is a nice shade of red and loves that even though they’re married, something as simple as the genuine phrase “anything for you, dear,” can still make him act like that.

“Okay, I’ll stop,” Dick says softly  “But only because we can still get some sleep in and it’ll be a lot more comfortable if you’re not trying to hide from embarrassment.”

“Okay,” Nix grumbles.  “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know,” Dick replies, and doesn’t miss how Nix buries his face deeper in the covers for a moment before turning to him.

“You sap,” he says before adjusting so as to best cling to Dick like an octopus.  “You ginormus sap.”

Dick looks at him and can’t help to agree when the only thought that crosses his mind is I have no need for a heater when my love for you can keep me warm.

[emergencyservices1]

STORAGE  HEATER                             WOLVERHAMPTON

Storage Heater Wolverhampton

Electric heaters are typically quite a low cost to shop for however can eat your electricity quite quickly, inflicting them to be rather valuable within the long. In theory, electrical heaters are designed for brief periods of your time, to extend the warmth of an area while not having to modify the gas on.

Electric heaters are appropriate for smaller rooms that solely get used sometimes, or rather than moveable LPG heaters or open fires. Electrical heaters are safer than each LPG heaters and open fires, additionally as being cheaper to run in homes wherever you have got no different choices.

The heating capability of electrical plug-in heaters is usually no over a pair of.4k kW, which implies in larger, or poorly insulated rooms, you will got to run over one heater to make sure healthy and comfortable living temperatures.

Electric Heaters – efficiency & types

There’s forever been the rumour than some electrical heaters are additional economical than others, that could be a lie. Aside from heat pumps, all electrical heaters are equally economical, changing all energy they consume into helpful heat. Don’t believe the parable that some are additional economical than others, as all energy is employed, and none gets wasted.

With varied kinds of electrical heaters accessible, together with beaming, fan, convection and night store, it’s necessary to grasp that heater is correct for you, as all of them distribute heat otherwise. If you’re paying for the energy consumption, you may additionally be creating full use of your electric heater.

Below, HS electrical give you an insight into the various varieties of electrical heaters and once the most effective times to use them are:

Radiant Heaters – A beaming heater could be a bar with glowing components and a reflector, accustomed heat individuals and objects instead of the air within the area. Accessible as either free-standing, wall or wall-mounted models, beaming heaters is helpful in rooms with high ceilings, in massive rooms wherever you simply would like the warmth in one space, or wherever you wish to feel instant heat while not waiting till the air within the area is hotter.

Fan Heaters – additionally referred to as ceramic heaters, the fan heater is employed to distribute heated air around the area instead of material possession it kind a layer of hot air below the ceiling. These will typically be loud, however noise aside, they'll be helpful for reinforcing a convection heater or providing fast heat in smaller rooms that solely would like heat for brief periods of your time. High wall-mounted versions are available to stay children safe.

Convection Heaters – Convection heaters are accustomed to heat air instead of surfaces. These embody column heaters and convection heaters with a heating element within a casing that has grilles at the highest and bottom to permit air to flow through. Ideal to be used in medium-sized rooms wherever heating is needed for an extended amount of your time. Bedrooms and Living Rooms are typically the most effective places to use convection heaters, as they steady heat the air by convection. the recent air rises and slowly circulates around the area.

Panel Heaters – Flat-panel heaters are typically thought to be cheaper to run as they provide a really low heat output. As a result of the low heat output, they can’t extremely heat medium-large sized rooms, though wherever occupants have young children, they're typically thought of the safer choice as they don’t usually get hot enough to burn.

Night Store Heaters – good items of technology, night store heaters from cheaper off-season electricity at the hours of darkness, and slow unharness it throughout the day. These are thought of additional economical than common electrical heaters for homes that have occupants throughout the day and houses wherever Economy seven or cheaper night tariffs are used. Don’t use Night Store Heaters if there's nobody home throughout the day, as you'll be wasting electricity.

At HS Electrical, we are able to repair all makes of storage heaters and advise on all sorts of electrical heating. Contact us nowadays and raise us any queries you may have regarding electrical heating. We serve the Wolverhampton area.

Feel free to visit Electrician Wolverhampton site and fill the contact form at Wolverhampton Electrical. Read more: 24 Hour Emergency Electrician Wolverhampton

The Best Electrical Services In Wolverhampton

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[profbruce]

Want an instant home?

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[georgiabread]

falling for you ; phan | chapter thirty two

Full summary ; Dan Howell is dead. Well, sort of. He’s a guardian angel, forced to protect only one human, and that human is Cat. But when he accompanies Cat to school, he can’t help but be intrigued by the broken boy with the black hair who sits by the window in class and disappears at lunch times. Dan realises this boy needs more protection than Cat will ever need, so he takes on human form to save him. But soon he finds himself falling in love, which is something he definitely can’t do. Dan Howell is an angel, and he’s falling for Phil.

Tags ; highschool!phan, teenage!phan, plantboy!phil, spaceboy!dan, angel!dan, phan, phan au, phan fluff, phan angst, chaptered

TWs ; bullying, violence, mentions of self-harm, mentions of death/suicide, depression, panic attacks, physical and verbal abuse, homophobia, foul language and supernatural themes.

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"This separation, time and space between us for some revelation you didn't care to discuss. I'd rather be black and blue than accept that you withdrew—"

phil ;

To: dan tha man 🔥

it's been 3 days and you still haven't answered my calls [delivered - 12.11.16]

To: dan tha man 🔥

do you really expect us to stop talking? [delivered - 13.11.16]

To: dan tha man 🔥

cause i really don't want us to stop [delivered - 13.11.16]

To: dan tha man 🔥

we can't keep going like this. what if i go to uni and you still haven't decided to fucking text me back? [delivered - 14.11.16]

To: dan tha man 🔥

i'm sorry for yelling at you and bringing up bad memories, i'm so sorry. but i'm not apologising for getting assaulted if you're still salty about that cause i never WANTED it to happen [delivered - 14.11.16]

To: dan tha man 🔥

i hope you know i bloody love you (a LOT) and i don't want us to end like this [delivered - 14.11.16]

To: dan tha man 🔥

look we're both idiots but you're turning into the bigger one. please call or text me back, i love you bear [delivered - 15.11.16]

*

If a colour could describe Phil's emotions in this moment, he would choose grey. Grey like flimsy clouds on an overcast day, suspended in the sky as if by tattered threads. Grey like his mother's eyes on the days they seemed to hang from her eye sockets, emotionless and dead. Grey like his bedroom wall, which was blue in actuality, but had turned dreary and dull in the low afternoon light.

Phil's eyelids blinked softly at the bare wall, head pushed into a pillow and legs folded up near his chest. He should've felt warm – a wooly jumper encased his torso, two black socks covered his feet and the house's heater had been switched on to combat winter. But instead his bones sat frigid under his skin and he felt colder than what any icy weather could make him feel.

He'd lost the ability to cry two days ago. Either he'd simply run out of tears, or the coldness had frozen them behind his eyes. His phone was clutched tightly in one palm, dead. Phil hadn't bothered to plug in the charger when it fell flat an hour ago. What was the point? He would only use it for one reason now, but that was a lost cause. It always had been.

If he was really honest, Phil didn't blame Dan for not contacting him. The night at the party had been the knife in their relationship, and the way Phil saw it, he was the one to blame. He had his mouth all over someone else, he shouldn't have shouted at Dan on the street, he was too clingy, too annoying, he wasn't enough. Dan was right to avoid him.

Phil's eyes fluttered shut and a memory flashed behind his eyelids. The day he had first taken Dan to his hideaway in the forest – a small smile crept onto his face when he remembered the wand fight, laughing until their sides hurt. But then he recalled something Dan had said, a promise Phil had been so daft to believe.

"My sorry ass is going to stick with you until you can tell me honestly that you are okay."

Typical of Dan, he knew. But Phil wasn't okay. And Dan hadn't stuck with him. Phil drew a deep breath which came out shaky, and he turned to press his face into his pillow. You idiot, you fucking idiot, he swore at himself. Dan was never going to stay with you.

Why had he let himself believe for one second that he was worth being loved?

His messages and calls to Dan had been pointless. Phil knew by now he would never get a reply. He didn't deserve one, not after all he'd done to ruin their relationship. He deserved nothing, not even his friends and family.

For years, Phil had seen himself as a dead weight. Unnecessary, disposable, a burden that would gladly be thrown away. For years it seemed as though everyone wanted to abandon him. But now one thing had changed – he wanted to get rid of himself.

It seemed all too easy. Now that Dan was gone, what else was he living for?

Phil huffed and flopped onto his back, roughly dragging his hands over his face. He barely noticed the hole in his stomach, left empty with no proper food for two days. The bedroom was dark, the blinds drawn, coaxing shadows out of their corners. He usually loved his room to be clean and clear of any mess, but dirty clothes were strewn across the carpet, his bed was unmade and half of his belongings had probably gone missing by now. It wasn't like Phil to throw himself into such a mess, but maybe if he hadn't allowed himself to get attached he'd never be in it in the first place.

Thoughts and discussions about the future had been abandoned. Pitying messages from friends had been ignored. "Moving on" was a phrase Phil found very difficult to even think about. Because despite everything, his optimistic side managed to grasp that sliver of hope that maybe things would work out in the end.

Phil missed Dan. That was why he tried so hard to believe in a happy ending. Phil missed Dan so dreadfully it seemed impossible to do anything else. He missed the feeling of Dan's warm fingers entwined with his own or threading gently through his hair; he missed the way Dan's caramel eyes would shine when he grinned and gave that obnoxiously loud laugh of his; he missed how easy it was to make him blush, and the way he'd find any excuse for them to touch – whether it be legs squished together, a hand on his arm or resting his head upon his shoulder. Phil missed simply having Dan around, as his presence was enough to make him feel at ease. He missed having someone to confide in, someone to lean on, someone whose hugs were really all Phil needed to feel better. He missed –

A soft knock on the bedroom door tore him from his thoughts. Phil blinked and reluctantly pushed himself up on the bed, running his fingers through his fringe to neaten it. "Um...who is it?" he asked, wincing when his voice came out cracked and croaky.

"Daisy," a small voice replied. "Can I come in?"

Phil relaxed a bit and allowed his sister to enter. He watched the door slowly swing open to reveal a pair of wide blue eyes and fingers picking timidly at the hem of a top. Daisy took one look at Phil before hurrying over and clambering up into his lap. Phil frowned sadly, helping her up and hugging two arms around her small waist. "What's up, Daze?" he asked, leaning round to look at her.

The child sighed and rested her cheek against Phil's chest. "When is Dan gonna visit again?"

Phil bit down on his bottom lip, heart breaking at the sadness in her tone. It looked like she missed him as well. "Daisy..." he started helplessly. "I don't...m-maybe someday."

"What even happened to him? Did you guys break up?"

Phil hadn't really told Daisy anything about their split or break or whatever it was. He hesitated in replying, furiously blinking back tears he didn't know he still had. To have someone else even mention it made it all seem much more real. "Well, it's a little hard to explain," he said quietly.

Curling her fists around his jumper, Daisy let out a small whine and squeezed her eyes shut. "I don't want you guys to break up," she whimpered.

"Oh Daisy, no, we're not – we're not breaking up," Phil rushed to comfort her, holding her tighter. "It's okay, everything's going to be fine. Dan and I are okay. Please don't be upset." He ran his hands up and down her arms to calm her down, wishing he could swipe away her unhappiness as well.

"I want Dan to come back so – so he can play dolls with me again," she murmured, pouting. "He was really good at making funny voices."

Phil couldn't help but chuckle quietly, remembering the few times when Dan had come over and Daisy had begged for them to play with her. It wasn't as bad as it sounded. They always had a fun time creating some absurd narrative with Daisy's dolls – and Dan's silly voices always made Daisy laugh. Phil often gave him fond looks in those moments, seeing how good Dan was with kids. "His voice for Mr Hubert was the best, don't you think?" he said, thinking of Daisy's stuffed duck.

"Yeah, that was really funny," Daisy giggled. "What about–?"

Their conversation was interrupted by a second knock on the door. Phil straightened up and hastily wiped his eyes just before Mrs Lester stepped into the room. She took one look at the pair cuddling on Phil's bed, and her face fell. "There you two are," she said softly, moving closer. "How are you feeling, Phil?"

Phil shrugged. "I haven't improved," he mumbled.

"Oh, honey." His mother brushed her fingers over his fringe and cupped his cheek, staring down at him sadly while Phil refused to meet her eyes. She hesitated, opening her mouth to speak but apparently thinking better of it. Then she said, "You know, it's not good for your health to be holed up in your room all day. At least come into the lounge, have a snack?"

Phil felt his stomach clench at the words. "I-I'm not hungry."

"You're never hungry, Phil," his mum sighed, and straightened up. Phil flinched at her sudden patronizing tone. "Please get out of your bedroom. I can't stand seeing you like this. Daisy, you too, come and eat something."

Phil let his sister slide off his lap, staring down numbly at the dusty carpet. Through his peripherals, he watched his mother follow Daisy out of the room, not moving himself. He wished all these emotions would just dispel from his mind and heart, that someone would take them all away. Ironic how Dan would usually be that someone, when he'd also caused them in the first place. No, not him. It was you, he told himself bitterly.

He ended up trailing behind his mum down the hall, thudding down the staircase and coming to a halt in the kitchen doorway. His eyes scanned over the fruit bowl bearing apples, bananas and grapes of assorted colours; a bread loaf wrapped in plastic sitting on the bench; and the array of foods sitting snug in the fridge when Mrs Lester opened it. After two days of eating nothing substantial, the endless food churned his stomach like butter. Before his mother could say anything, he left, slumping into a seat at the dining table. Daisy soon joined him.

Moments later there came the sound of keys rattling against the metal handle of the front door. Phil's heart jumped in fear when the door swung open and crashed shut, and heavy footsteps bored holes in the floorboards. He knew exactly who it was.

Stephen passed the open dining room and went straight into the lounge; this time he reeked of rage rather than alcohol.

"You're home early from work," Mrs Lester called out, stepping out of the kitchen.

Phil chanced a glance over his shoulder, watching as his stepdad collapsed into an armchair and ran a hand through his thinning hair.

"Got fired," Stephen snapped in reply.

Mrs Lester stilled, as did Phil and Daisy. The mood in the house was tense, as if it could be sliced in half with a knife. Stephen let out a low sigh.

"Well...you'll have to start looking for–" Mrs Lester began slowly, but was cut short by her husband.

"You think I don't fucking know that?" Stephen barked, shoving off the chair. "You know, why don't you get a job, Annabel? I'm the only one fucking doing things around here–"

"I do have a job, Stephen," Phil's mum replied calmly.

"And that one pays terrifically, doesn't it? Maybe if you and everyone else under this roof worked a little harder we might have a better roof." Stephen rounded the chair and strode towards Mrs Lester. Phil held his breath as his stepdad backed his mother against the wall and glared daggers at her.

"St-Stephen, please, you were just fired. How about–?"

Stephen jabbed a finger into Mrs Lester's chest. "Don't fucking remind me. You listen. I'm sick of being treated like the villain here. Who's the one paying for the food and electricity that comes into the house? Who's supporting this shitty family? Who's – who's paying their fucking education!"

Phil blanched as Stephen turned and thrust his finger at him and Daisy, glowering down at them. And then suddenly the man's mood shifted as his eyes focused upon Phil, and a smirk twisted his rough features. "Well. I see the faggot has rejoined the family," he said viciously. "Are you finished being depressed, you useless idiot?"

"Don't talk to him like that, Stephen," Mrs Lester growled, but it was of no help. Stephen's words were already drilling holes in Phil's heart, swirling like storm clouds in his brain.

Phil's eyes dropped to the floor as he mulled over the words. Finished being depressed. Shut up, shut up, it doesn't work like that.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, Phil," Stephen said in a suddenly calm tone. He crossed into the dining room and came to stop behind Phil's chair.

Phil swallowed heavily and lifted his eyes to meet his stepfather's. Immediately Stephen threw out his hand and seized Phil by the chin with calloused fingers, yanking his gaze upwards. Terror stirred in the pit of Phil's stomach.

"What's up with you anyway?" Stephen snarled. "Can't you be grateful for everything you already have? There's nothing to be sad about, you piece of shit. You've got a privileged life with food and water – appreciate it."

The urge to correct him became stuck in Phil's throat, but Mrs Lester stepped forward. "Stephen, don't do this. Please just–"

"Depression isn't that bad, faggot. Get over it," Stephen continued. "But I've heard of a cure. You know, killing yourself."

"Stephen!" Mrs Lester shouted as Phil sunk back into his seat, tears springing up unanticipated.

"Annabel, please, I'm just kidding. Calm down," Stephen cried, whirling around to face his wife.

The rest of their argument drained away as Phil focused on the table centrepiece, a vase of wilted roses. The roses Dan had gifted him for formal. The outside petals were browning and shriveled; a few littered the surface of the table, nothing but shrunken curls of burgundy by now. Phil sniffed, staring sadly at the drooping stems and withered leaves until his vision blurred. That phrase repeated over and over in his mind. Kill yourself kill yourself kill yourself.

Would he even have the courage to do so?

Stephen was right, in a way, Phil realized. Suicide wasn't necessarily a cure for depression, but it did end it. Phil had no idea what would come after death, but surely it would be better than the life he lived now?

He watched the dead roses tremble when Stephen took a heavy step. It seemed cruel to let them remain on the dining table, when they had grown limp and faded. They were decaying within the glass vase, and weren't doing anyone any good. They ought to be thrown out. Phil dragged his hands over his eyes, wiping away any moisture, before reaching forward and wrapping his fingers around the stems. Then he stood, shoving back his chair. Daisy had disappeared and the shouting spat from his parents' mouths were muffled as Phil made his way numbly towards the front door. The green waste bin was outside somewhere – the roses were better off in there, he thought. That way no one would be disgusted when they looked upon them.

Before he reached the front door, however, he slipped into the first floor bathroom and glanced down at the cupboards below the basin. His heart gained speed, skipping beats as it thumped wildly against his chest. Phil crouched and pulled open the doors, eyes scanning desperately over the forest of various soaps and medication. There had to be something...

Phil zeroed in on a small bottle of Advil, pressed against the left wall. He hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip as he stared at the blue label. Just in case, he told himself, grabbing the bottle and stuffing it into his jean pocket. Just in case.

No one noticed when he walked out, shutting the door softly on his way out. Phil passed the waste bin and dumped the roses inside, shivering as a spiteful breeze buffeted his jumper. He paused, releasing a small sigh and glancing around the empty street. He never wanted to go back inside.

"But I've heard of a cure. You know, killing yourself."

Where would he go? Somewhere no one would find him. Phil frowned before remembering his hideaway again. It was perfect. The only other person who knew about it was Dan, and Dan obviously wasn't going to visit any time soon. Phil sniffled and shoved his hands in his pockets, taking off down the path.

The street was deathly silent, save for a single car that sped past. But Phil's heart thudded so fast he swore it bounced off the buildings and echoed in his ears. Would he ever come back? Was there a need?

Maybe he would, but instead of returning himself someone might be carrying his limp, lifeless body. No, he thought suddenly. You're better than that. Don't think about it don't think about it.

But it was hard when the bottle of Advil sat in his pocket like a dismal weight.

It didn't take very long to make it into town. From there it was only another five minutes to reach the school. What day was it again? Phil went to dig out his phone, but found his back pocket empty. Shit. He'd left it at home with no charge. He had the feeling it was a Saturday anyway, meaning the school would be hopefully completely empty.

No one spared him a second glance as Phil weaved through passers-by, although he knew he looked like a train wreck. He glanced in the reflective windows of a store, and sure enough there hung the black bags, sunken cheeks and unchanging frown. Not to mention the shadowy shades of his clothes. Phil almost couldn't recognize himself.

"Depression isn't that bad, fag. Get over it."

He needed to get to his hideaway. It was one of the few places where he felt calm. Then he could rest and think and – and...Phil shook his head and kept walking, running his fingers through his fringe. Stress clawed at his insides like a rabid animal, creeping up his throat, making his fingers twitch. His lungs felt constricted – someone had wrapped rope around them and pulled hard. All Phil could think about was what Stephen had said, what Dan had said, what everyone had done to him. All he could see were the black spots dropping like paint splatters in the corners of his vision, all he could feel was the Advil in his pocket.

His stomach thundered and suddenly his knees felt weak. He wanted to pass out. He should've eaten something.

Phil rounded a corner, using the wall of a building to keep himself upright. He trailed his fingers along the brickwork, walking past the local newsagent. Two people were having a conversation under the awning; Phil hurried past them, eyes cast to the concrete. But for a moment they flitted up, catching on a name that was all too familiar. Dan Howell.

Phil's eyebrows creased as he studied the first newspaper in its pile on a rack. His eyes scanned the headline, and suddenly he wanted to throw up despite the emptiness in his stomach.

INVESTIGATIONS INTO DAN HOWELL'S DEATH REOPENED

His legs buckled. Phil grasped the newspaper rack desperately and reached for the first paper. His hands quivered, his heart was skipping beats every second, he couldn't distinguish any of the thoughts in his mind.

It didn't make sense, it didn't make sense. How could Dan be dead?

Phil read the first paragraph on the front page, eyes slowly starting to blur, merging the words together.

Dan Howell, aged 18, was found crushed to death by his car in a ditch off Durham Way several months ago. After originally being labelled as a fatal accident, police have now discovered new evidence suggesting possible suicide. At this point things are still uncertain. "All I want is closure," his mother stated recently. "I want to be able to move on from this." There is little reason yet known as to why Howell would commit suicide, however...

Phil slammed the newspaper face-down in the rack, blinking back tears. He sucked in a shaky breath. Crushed to death by his car...But – Phil had seen him a few days ago. No, he'd spoken to him, laughed with him, loved him for months. It was impossible for him to be dead. This had to be someone else, it couldn't be anything but a big coincidence. There was no way Dan had died, not when Phil had kissed him and held his hand and taken him to formal. Not when he'd seen him grin, listened to his breathing.

Phil couldn't understand. He shoved away from the rack and stumbled down the sidewalk. He couldn't breathe. The rope had tightened around his lungs. Feet carrying him somewhere he didn't know, men and women passing him by without so much as a glance, wind pushing back his hair and chilling the tears on his cheeks.

He couldn't think. He didn't want to think anymore. All he wanted silence, relief, an ending to this confusing story of his. He remembered the Advil in his pocket. Would 10 be enough? Was it painful? He didn't care. He had to reach his hideout.

But then someone came into view up ahead – no, a group of people – and Phil's world seemed to collapse.

It was Finn, surrounded by his friends. Before Phil could even register them properly the boy's eyes had landed upon him and the group was moving towards him. Menacing smiles twisted their faces and Phil couldn't move. No, not now, why now?

He tried to run, but it was too late. Alfie and Joe had vice-like grips on his arms and they were dragging him forward into a thin alleyway between two buildings. Finn and the rest of them followed. Phil struggled against their hold, trying to regain control over his broken breaths. No, no, no, they couldn't be here, this couldn't still be happening...

The two boys shoved him violently against the cold ground and pain bored into his back like daggers, making Phil cry out. He tried to push himself up with trembling hands but someone pushed him down again.

"There, we found him," a voice snapped. "Go on then, Finn. Show us you aren't a dirty faggot like this one."

Reluctantly Phil raised his head and his eyes met Finn's as the boy loomed above him, casting a shadow over him. For a split second remorse seemed to flash across Finn's eyes but suddenly it was gone. All that remained was cold, hard malevolence and Phil couldn't register a thought before a boot buried deep into his ribs and pain blossomed fresh and sharp.

And if anyone heard his cries, they didn't come to his aid.