#this (wheezing) this is an idea i had LAST YEAR but it was a solo illustration

[brother-emperors]

BROTHERS

The river Weser ran between the Roman and Cheruscan forces. Arminius came to the bank and halted with his fellow chieftains:— "Had the Caesar come?" he inquired.​ On receiving the reply that he was in presence, he asked to be allowed to speak with his brother. That brother, Flavus by name, was serving in the army, a conspicuous figure both from his loyalty and from the loss of an eye through a wound received some few years before during Tiberius' term of command. Leave was granted, and Stertinius took him down to the river. Walking forward, he was greeted by Arminius; who, dismissing his own escort, demanded that the archers posted along our side of the stream should be also withdrawn. When these had retired, he asked his brother, whence the disfigurement of his face? On being told the place and battle, he inquired what reward he had received. Flavus mentioned his increased pay, the chain, the crown, and other military decorations; Arminius scoffed at the cheap rewards of servitude.

They now began to argue from their opposite points of view. Flavus insisted on "Roman greatness, the power of the Caesar; the heavy penalties for the vanquished; the mercy always waiting for him who submitted himself. Even Arminius' wife and child were not treated as enemies." His brother urged "the sacred call of their country; their ancestral liberty; the gods of their German hearths; and their mother, who prayed, with himself, that he would not choose the title of renegade and traitor to his kindred, to the kindred of his wife, to the whole of his race in fact, before that of their liberator." From this point they drifted, little by little, into recriminations; and not even the intervening river would have prevented a duel, had not Stertinius run up and laid a restraining hand on Flavus, who in the fullness of his anger was calling for his weapons and his horse. On the other side Arminius was visible, shouting threats and challenging to battle: for he kept interjecting much in Latin, as he had seen service in the Roman camp as a captain of native auxiliaries.

Tacitus Annals 2.10-11

there's a lot going on in there! Arminius switching to Latin is a detail that always makes me feel a deep kind of sadness, especially with how it's preceded by mention of their mother. I wonder what she thought of what became of her sons, on opposite sides of everything but still, inescapably, brothers. even when they want to kill each other. there sure are a lot of fucked up and unhappy brothers around. and Arminius asking about Flavus' injury............I also had a whole thing typed out about the horror of imperialism and colonization and the trauma of assimilation but I think this sets the tone better

Rome's Greatest Defeat: Massacre in the Teutoburg Forest, Adrian Murdoch

and also this, just for fun

(ibid)

this post is already a mile long, so lets add another mile to it: a little scene at the start of their conversation! tfw you go in for a hug and your younger brother who also ended up being taller starts roasting your hair style

bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost ⭐ cara.app⭐ko-fi

[hankwritten]

Words That Taste Bad in Your Ears

Zhanna/Scout, 1k

Saturday (July 8) : Spicy | Savory | Sweet

“We need car,” Heavy said when they landed in the middling Australian town barely propped up by the minuscule airport.

“We are here to find transportation,” Heavy reminded forty-five minutes later.

“We,” he grit out, emphasis on every syllable as Zhanna and Scout pressed their faces to a glass display case containing children’s toys—ooing and aaing as if they were children themselves—“come to village. For car.”

“Relax Big Guy,” Scout waved away, not taking his eyes off as a wooden cutout with mechanical limbs fired an unsettlingly detailed toy rifle, causing a 2D wooden kangaroo across the display to fall flat, “won’t kill you to slow down a goddamn sec.”

“These words. They come out of little Scout’s mouth. Are you even listening?”

“Mm hmm…”

“Scout! Tell Heavy to slow!”

“Yeah…” Scout still hadn’t taken his eyes off the display, watching as the toy hunter and toy kangaroo reset themselves with clicking precision.

“Chatterjay is right,” Zhanna, exposed to The Worst of Heavy’s coworkers and now traitorous and unhelpful, said. “Misha rushes us.”

“We are in rush.”

“If someone has not come and taken all the metal by now, a few hours extra hours will not make.”

“<Zhanna,>” Heavy said, switching to a language that could properly capture his annoyance. “<We came to do a job! We aren’t here to be tourists, to go sprinting about some no where town in the dry and the heat just to gawk at all the stupid things the Australians have come up with. I Are you doing this just to aggravate me?>”

“<Not everything I do is about you, Misha,>” Zhanna shot right back, straightening up from the glass display and nearing his high with a glare. “<Have you ever thought that maybe I want to go look at things that aren’t an endless icy expanse? That maybe your sister wants to live a little for the first time in twenty years?>”

“<Our family keeps our word. When we say we’ll do a job, we’ll do it.>”

“<That is what you do. And you’ve applied it to the rest of us without proof.>” Zhanna puffed up. “<We’ll go to the big rock when we’re good and ready. And if that little purple woman is cranky, well then she can just go cry about it.>”

“Yeah!” Scout said, puffing up beside her. “No idea what my girlfriend just said, but she sounded pissed at you and I support her wholeheartedly. Screw you Heavy!”

Zhanna, for whatever reason, thought this was very funny. “Screw you!” she repeated.

“Screw you!”

They echoed this back and forth a few times until Heavy had had quite a enough, marching off down the street to find suitable transportation on his own. His two—supposed—mission-mates kept laughing, Zhanna so hard she squeezed Scout in a sidehug that lifted him off the ground.

Still, through the oxygen throttling show of expression, he managed to throw out one last, “Screw- gak! –you…”

“Love you little chatterjay. Such a way with words.”

“…Thanks…*wheeze*…babe…”

*

Heavy’s solo expedition did not pan out as well as he had hoped. This was not how he would have split the Team had he been in charge, though at first he was relieved he could keep an eye on Zhanna a bit longer; she was the eldest of his sisters, but age did not translate to wisdom, and it often seemed she sought out trouble on purpose. Trouble like Scout for instance. Probably the worst man she could have chosen to suddenly fling her first ever affections on, Scout took her sudden interest in stride, and was in no way disturbed when they had calcified into this unshakeable loyalty. Zhanna had decided what she liked, and what she liked was this annoying little toothpick who wouldn’t shut up.

How he hoped Bronislava and Yana were getting into less trouble. He’d sheltered them out of love yet…

Yet he had to admit many of his decisions weren’t always the best ones. The quest for a rental car for instance. The last three Australians he spoke to insisted on arm wrestling him before doling out any quest information, and when he handily beat them it turned out most of their advice were things like, “Don’t know about that, maybe go ask Marsha up the road?” In the end Heavy was fed up that he started refusing ‘brawls’ all together, which only further decreased his success rate.

When he finally trudged himself into the town’s largest diner, he was less than pleased to run into Scout and Zhanna there, still dragging their feet.

“And in the states,” Scout was saying, “chicken comes in buckets. It’s great. I don’t know why but having chicken in a bucket is just so much better than regular chicken- you know I even have this chicken costume they let me have for free when the TFC—Teufort Fried Chicken—place was closing down. They just threw it away! Okay so they didn’t let me have it for free, I had to go out to the back and fish it out of the dumpster, but it was worth it because they’d had a guy wearing that mascot costume for thirty years before they closed down—thirty year old grease stains on the inside! Can you believe it!—but then the Italian place across the street ran them out of business.”

“Mm…” Zhanna said, chin resting in hands as she watched him across a plate of friend chicken.

“So instead of being a mascot, it’s now a mas-scout! Get it? Ha! I crack myself up.”

“Yes. Cracked like chicken egg. Scout is done talking now though, and will go back to putting showing me ‘real cuisine’.”

“Huh? Oh! Oh right, yeah.”

So Scout picked up a chicken wing, and leaned forward. Zhanna took a rip out of the flesh, then proceeded to lick the savory grease off Scout’s fingers. The two did break eye contact during this.

Heavy sat down beside them with a mild noise of disgust.

“Brother! Finally done wandering around?” Zhanna wiped the grease off her mouth with her sleeve. Scout watched her do this adoringly.

“Heavy,” Heavy grit, “was looking for car. To get us out of this place.”

“A ride? Ha! We already found one, dummy,” Scout said.

“What?” Heavy said. “When?”

“While you were out moping. C’mon, it’s out back.”

Heavy was left to be the one to throw bills on the table. This annoyed him. And then, annoyance didn’t even begin to cover what he felt when he walked to the back of the diner and found, not a car, but a scooter with a sidecar attached.

“This will not make five kilometers,” Heavy said doubtfully.

“Sure it will! The chick who sold it said it ‘outrun a pack of thirty dingoes, all while you’re transporting live feral wombats’.”

“Implication was that would be fighting wombats, while dingoes are chasing,” Zhanna nodded helpfully.

“…Fine,” Heavy said, walking toward the vehicle. “As long was we are leaving.”

But before he could even touch the thing Scout barked, “Nope! I’m driving, chucklenut.”

“What?” Heavy demanded.

“Sorry man, way it’s gotta be. I’m driving, Zhanna’s riding bitch, and you-” Scout paused, wiggled his finger in a circle, and papped it against Heavy’s chest, “-get the baby carriage.”

“Scout is not serious.”

“He is,” Zhanna nodded solemnly, “I will be riding this bitch all the way to big rock.”

She used one arm to squeeze Scout around the shoulders, who promptly turned bright ride. Heavy got in the sidecar. It was the only place he could effectively turn around, and not have to look at them anymore. Better alone in the hack for the entire rest of the trip than to spend one extra minute than he had to with them.

He would have words for Pauling when this was all done.

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝙎𝙐𝘾𝙆 & 𝘽𝙇𝙊𝙒 ☆ 𝙨𝙖𝙥𝙣𝙖𝙥 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩

∘ request: 

goddamn your writing is so good 🥵 any chance you’d be able to write something with sapnap where you’re both at a party and know each other through friends but not well and you’re both a bit tipsy and he just can’t control himself and drags you into a bathroom? kinda fluffy where there’s lots of kissing but also desperate and accidentally rough (because the idea of someone wanting me so much that they lose control is a major thing of mine)

∘ pairing: sapnap x fm!reader

∘ warnings: nsfw (18+),  party scene, drinking, crude language

∘ links: ao3

∘ word count: ~2000

a/n: Thank you so much for the request! I literally have the exact same thing so i think we’re soulmates or something. I hope you enjoy!

For the duration of the day, you’d been waiting for this moment. Your hair tangling amongst itself as you danced to the music with a group of your friends was almost a baptism for you. No longer were you restricted into your business casual attire and socially acceptable behavior. Now you were free to forget your name and responsibilities as mashups of different genres of heavily bass boosted music pulsed in your ears.

The large house was swelling with people, melding together as if their lives depended on the superficial human connection the beat could bring them. Many of them you recognized from some of your lectures; it had been a day where your classmates had planned a party for someone’s birthday. You hated to admit it, but you didn’t know or care whose party it was, you were just happy to have an excuse not to study.

You’d already lost one of your rings and your clothes were sticking to your body from the layer of sweat glistening against your skin, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. As cliché as it sounded, going to random college parties had equated to your own kind of religion. These senseless addresses were homes to a different kind of worship, but one you had quickly become devoted to. The smell of another girl’s perfume rubbing off on you and the nameless identity of the boy that offered you hard liquor were your new sacraments.

As the song died out, beginning a new string of beats to thunder around the room, you found yourself out of breath. You gestured to your friends that you were refilling your drink, but really you were in search of air that was a bit fresher. You wove through the heavy crowd, ending up in the kitchen and beelining for the fridge. There was a small group of boys standing around the keg, one of them filling his cup as they discussed something a few of them were getting heated about.

You tucked a cold water bottle against your side and grabbed a clean solo cup. As you got closer, you would hear what they were talking about. “I don’t know how you don’t remember that. It was like a big thing a few years ago?” One of them grumbled as his eyes narrowed at the liquid streaming into his cup.

“Sorry, Nick. I forgot they were selling kids on eBay. I honestly don’t see-” They continued on into overlapping ramblings that you couldn’t help but laugh at. One of them, that had been referred to as Nick, looked almost too familiar to you. Yet as you stood there, you couldn’t remember even if your life depended on it.

Nick’s eyes drifted to you as if just realizing you were standing there. “Sorry, do you refill?” He asked, mustering a somewhat shy smile. You snapped out of your train of thought, handing your cup to him.

“I didn’t mean to seem like a creepy, sorry,” you stated, sending him an awkward laugh. His lips parted in a smile. His dark hair was slightly ruffled, probably just from the weather earlier in the day. You weren’t sure if it was your slight buzz or the close proximity, but God, he looked good to you.

“No, I was hogging. It was my bad,” he answered. You brushed your hair off of your warm forehead and he looked up at you from what he was doing, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “I think I know you from somewhere,” he mumbled before something clicked behind his eyes as he handed you your cup back. “Oh, you’re Clay’s friend, right? I’m his roommate, Nick.” At his words, your brain clouded with embarrassment as memories of him finally fled your brain.

You smirked slightly. “Oh! Yeah, sorry I didn’t recognize you. You look…” You paused for a second. Where were you going with this statement? Hotter? “Grown-up,” you wheezed, making him chuckle again. “- I mean, since freshman year English, I guess.”

He chewed the inside of his cheek, attempting not to grin wider. “Yeah, you look… grown-up too,” he offered, sending you a slight smirk. “It’s weird how close you and Dream are and I never see you around anymore,” he continued.

You chuckled a bit, wetting your lips. “Yeah, I told Clay I had a crush on you and he kicked me out,” you joshed, making him laugh. For as quiet as you remembered him being, you were shocked he was engaging with you in the way he was. Maybe it was just the atmosphere and the alcohol that had him loosened up. Whatever it was, you found yourself partnering with him in beer pong and spending most of the night at each other's side.

You sat closely to him on a couch in one of the several living rooms, your heads set close together as you listened to what he was saying over the music. “Hey, you too found each other,” a deep voice bounded, making you jump slightly, almost spilling your drink on Nick. Clay plopped down on the other side of you, wrapping his arm around the back of your section of couch to tug on Nick’s ear.

“Why didn’t you tell me Nick was a stud now?” you joked, slightly cringing about how bold you sounded. Nick chuckled at your words, swatting Clay’s hand away from him and taking another sip from his cup.

Clay setted further into the spot beside you. “You guys wanna play ‘suck and blow’?” He stated, more to the group of people around you guys. You furrowed your brows at him, almost wanting to roll your eyes at Clay’s blatant mission to set you and Nick up together. But who were you to avoid his attempts.

The card was passed successfully around the group, until it got to Clay, whose breath you could practically feel on the other side of the thick paper. You turned to give it to Nick but dropped it at the last second, making his lips press against yours. It was almost like he was expecting it because he was utterly calm at your action, nearing leaning in on his own accord. There were cat-calling noises made from the group as the kiss ended briefly. “Ope, looks like you guys are gonna have to leave the circle,” Clay stated with an almost sing-song tone in his voice. You were thankful that you had turned towards Clay enough that Nick couldn’t see your jokingly scornful look.

“Well, that’s just too bad. We were so good at this,” Nick chided as the two of you stood to leave. You ruffled Clay’s hair as the two of you left, following Nick into another room. “Would you want to… go somewhere quiet?” Nick asked, his eyes flashing to yours. Your eyebrow perked in his direction before you wordlessly slipped your hand into his.

You found yourself in the bathroom, Nick's hands settling on your hips as he pressed his lips against yours. You let out a sharp moan as he ground his hips against yours, yearning for more friction. Your fingers dug into his hair as his tongue slipped into your mouth, hungry for your taste. His breath was like a drug for you as he groaned into your mouth, moving against you.

His lips left your mouth but only to caress your jaw before settling against your neck, sucking on the skin with a slight sting. You tilted your head back, giving him more access to you before wrapping a leg around him, begging him to go further with you. He chuckled at your neediness, his warm breath fanning over your neck. He tugged the strap of your dress down your arm, pressing his lips against the newly exposed skin, grinding against you. The taste of cheap beer passed between the two of you.

One of his hands slipped beneath your dress to squeeze your ass, pulling you tighter against his jeans, encouraging you to ride his thigh. "I want you," he moaned unevenly in your ear, sending heat straight to your core. You wanted him to completely ruin you, to show you what was hiding beneath the surface of his reserved nice guy barrier.

You answered his words by attending to his zipper, slipping your hands into his jeans and stroking him against his boxers. A moan broke through his teeth, his lips crashing against yours as you egged him on. His erection grew stronger with each of your movements. You could tell he was becoming desperate to ravage you with each of his restrained breaths.

Your teeth dug into his bottom lip, your fingers pushing his pants to the ground as he pressed himself against you. He pushed your underwear aside, answering your silent pleas. Pressing his lips against your neck again, he drove himself into you, earning a blissed out moan from you. A breath of pleasure and relief escaped his chest at the feeling of you instantly tightening around him.

He thrusted into you, as if testing the waters as you moaned his name against his skin. One of your arms tightened around his shoulder as he held you in place, setting his pace. The mix of alcohol and pleasure you were feeling with each snap of his hips was sending your head reeling. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, fingers digging into your skin. You moaned against his lips, sending him to speed up his movements. A sense of roughness came out in him as he pounded into you harder, and you were eating it up. You fingers dug into his hair, pulling tightly to earn a groan from him.

Your hands slipped beneath his shirt, raking against his back, urging him to use you like a flashlight. "Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, voice husky with some type of forced restraint as if he wouldn't let it come out evenly. You tightened around him, moving in what little space he'd given you to grind against him.

With that, he began to thrust into you harder, as if he was finally giving into whatever he was attempting to hold back. His teeth dug into your shoulder with each pulsing movement, driving himself deeper into you. Ungodly moans left your lips, only confirming his actions as he hungrily chased his high, dragging you with him.

His paces became less rhythmic and more sloppy as he gripped onto you, your fingers digging into his skin as you felt your orgasm was just within reach. You tightened your leg around him, your head swimming as he began to hit your sweet spot repeatedly. With a nearly choked out moan of his name, your body flushed with relief, your climax ripping through you. Nick succumbed to his own as if he'd been waiting for you, the two of you leaning against each other for support as you rode out your highs.

After you caught your breath, you reapplied a layer of lipstick, eyeing Nick through the reflection of the mirror as he stood behind you, straightened his clothes. "Let's not tell Clay about this, purely because he'll make it weird," you stated, turning and evening out his hoodie strings.

He chuckled slightly. "Oh, I agree completely. Don't tell Clay." His sly smirk nearly drew you in as you pressed your lips against his again, a promise that you'd definitely be seeing each other again.

[untaemedqueen]

Snowed In

Best Friend!Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Best Friends To Lovers, Huddle of Warmth, Domestic!AU, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Mega Fluff, Marking, Impregnation Kink, Thigh Slapping, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Possessive!Hoseok, Ab Worship, Fellatio, Face Fucking, Belly Bulge, Multiple Orgasms, Doggy Style, Spanking, Cream Pie

WordCount: 15k

A/N: Okay! MERRY EARLY CHRISTMAS! I’m super super lucky to have all of my darlings in one collab with me! Always a shoutout to my loves @ladyartemesia​, @ppersonna​, @xjoonchildx​ and @underthejoon​ for rooting me on always! Shout out to @hobi-gif​ for beta-ing it and literally helping me learn English lmfao. My other loves @snackhobi​ and @yeojaa​ rooted on the idea for this fic and helped me flesh things out and I’m so lucky I’m constantly surrounded by such amazing people!

Seasons for most people inspire and bring delight with every change of color on leaves in high up trees. Yet with you, you always hated all the seasons and everything they stood for. Until you met him. Or let him in anyway.

It sounds corny and ridiculous. It probably is.

People always deemed you cold hearted or uncaring and it was all true. But he brought love to your heart. He made colors brighter. He made the world seem bigger and better than you ever noticed before.

He was always around, even if you didn't want him to be. You had some friends from childhood that insisted on keeping him around. He was kind and eager with everything that he did. And it annoyed the ever living crap out of you.

But you slowly opened up that iron cage around your heart and let him in. Even if it took him ages for you to let him in, he was determined.

You never understood why it always turned terribly cold the day before Halloween. It was a constant as well as surprising. But, what was probably more surprising was that people couldn't give a bigger fuck about frigid temperatures when they had revealing costumes to wear.

"I don't wanna go!" you whine to Taehyung as he takes off his shirt. Rolling his eyes, he throws the fabric perfectly on the top of your head before thrusting his fist up in the air.

"Score!" he cheers loudly as he grabs the top of his costume.

You ball up the tee-shirt in hand before chucking it at him with a sneer.

"Kim Taehyung," you mumble as you look back down at your phone.

"You have to go. Do you want me to not get pussy? Is that what it is? You have an agenda against me? A no pussy agenda? That's fucked up Y/N. I can't even believe you!" He rants as he slips on his top.

"Oh my God," you murmur as you lean back against the headboard of his bed.

Knowing this man since you were six -- nothing has changed. He's been by your side through thick and thin. He has always been a fearless best friend and a fierce fighter for you.

You've never liked people but the one person you've really only cared for has been Kim Taehyung. And, Park Jimin -- but he's a different story entirely.

"Jaemin is going too, you don't want to see your own boyfriend?" Taehyung asks as he stands in front of his mirror.

You look up slowly from your phone only to catch his gaze through the mirror. "Jaemin is his own person. He can do whatever he wants without me having to be by his side like glue."

Taehyung snorts gently as he combs his fingers through his hair.

"Man, I don't know how you keep relationships. You're so mean. Jaemin has a strong heart to be with you," you give him a fake smile as you flip him your middle finger.

"Not everyone needs to be as coddled as you do, Tae," you reply as you stand up off the bed.

"Hey. I'm only so needy and clingy because my parents didn't love me as a child," he says as he puts hairspray in his hair.

You snort gently at his words before the door of his dorm room opens.

"Tae!" you hear Hoseok cheer and you internally sigh.

In your first year of college, Hoseok was in every single class you signed up for. You saw him for multiple hours a day and he was so nice -- so completely nice, that it was terrifying.

No one should be so kind and selfless but that's just who he is. Once Taehyung and Jimin had met him, the trio that you’d always been had turned into some bizarre foursome that you didn't quite care for. You were used to the other two around, but with Hoseok you just became uncomfortable. Maybe it's your crippling anxiety or your extreme awkwardness.

"Hey Hoseok!" Taehyung calls out to him as he grabs his pants.

Hoseok looks around the room before spotting you. His smile seems to widen -- if that's even possible.

He is incredibly handsome. His eyes always seem to sparkle with an energy you've never really seen before. Jimin calls it allure, Taehyung calls it kindness.

“Y/N! Hey! Happy Halloween!” He says happily as he enters the room.

His costume is simple, just a leather jacket, black t-shirt and black ripped jeans with a Scream mask hanging from his neck but it’s nice.

“Hey, Hobi,” you reply, your voice is wrapped with dull tones. Sitting back down on the bed, you look at your phone for a distraction.

“What’s your costume?” he asks as he sits down beside you.

“She’s going as herself. Because, that’s the scariest thing this world can offer,” Taehyung jeers as he puts on his eyeliner.

You give a fake laugh as you lock your phone. “Wow! Tae, you’re so funny! You get all the girls with your quirky humor?”

Hoseok laughs beside you, the sound is endearing to hear, unfortunately. But, you do find yourself giggling as Taehyung flips you the middle finger right back.

“I don’t like Halloween. Or any holidays as a matter of fact… or people,” you tell the cute black haired boy beside you. He hums understandingly as he folds his arms.

“It’s cool to be introverted,” he replies softly which Taehyung scoffs at.

“Not my Y/N. When she’s with me, she breaks out of her shell, right?” you hum uneasily as Taehyung enters the bathroom.

“Because you make me!” you retort loudly, lifting your body off of the headboard of his bed to call out to him. You huff out as you lean back before folding your arms and looking at Hoseok.

“How do you deal with him?” you quip as he looks up at the ceiling.

“He was your friend first,” he replies, a gentle smirk settling onto his features before turning his head to you.

“Touche,” you mutter as Taehyung throws his pajama pants at your head from the doorway of the bathroom.

Going to parties was certainly not a hobby for you. They’re loud and the environment usually smells like stale beer or high proof vodka. People stumble or shove you out of the way in their drunken stupor. It’s usually a gigantic mess.

But, if you must, you go to parties with your two best friends plus one Jung Hoseok, who is too kind for his own good.

Exactly what you hate is right before your eyes as you all pull up to Jimin’s frat house. The music is so loud, you can practically feel the bass beneath your feet as you step onto the front lawn. Already, there are strewn Solo cups on the ground and girls in tiny costumes. Which doesn’t bother you as much, you dress how you want to dress but it’s just so fucking cold!

You see him in passing, your boyfriend flits away before you can even call out to him. He looks good, really good. Sometimes you’re surprised he asked you out first. His hair is coiffed and you know his costume is supposed to be a zombie jock, which isn’t far off from what he normally is. He’s gigantic compared to you, the quarterback of the college football team and sitting comfortably at six foot five. He’s incredibly handsome and he’s yours. Which is bizarre because you never even thought he noticed you at all around the college green until last year.

“Lee Jaemin!” Taehyung calls out to him as he grabs a beer.

You cringe as Tae calls him, he shouldn’t have to come over if he doesn’t want to...

“Oh shit! What’s up guys!” Jaemin cheers loudly. You can hear the slur already in his voice.

He gives high fives to everyone before planting a sloppy, yet quick, kiss to your lips.

“So, where’s your costume?” Jaemin asks you as he pops the top of his can open.

“I don’t like Halloween, you know that,” you mumble as he ruffles your hair with a chuckle.

“You don’t like anything, baby. Except this dick.” He kisses your hairline before walking away leaving you all on your own.

You scratch the back of your neck uncomfortably, before looking over at Taehyung and Hoseok.

“I’m sorry,” your apology is weak as well as your voice.

God, you and Jaemin are so different sometimes.

Taehyung passed you a beer with a gentle scoff and you can tell that he's holding his tongue.

Cracking open the beer, you take a long sip before staring at the frat house.

"I'm sorry I made you come." Tae apologizes softly as your blue haired best friend begins to bolt towards you all.

You grumble softly in response before groaning as Jimin bum rushes you. Knocking all of the air out of your lungs, you cough loudly as he squeezes you tightly to his body.

"Happy Halloween! You bunch of assholes!" he cries happily as he shakes you around in his arms.

"Get… off!" you wheeze out, slapping his arm with all the strength you can muster.

Once he lets go, your free hand drops to your knee as you gasp for breath.

"You okay?" Hoseok asks softly, a goofy smirk on his lips as he presses his hand to your shoulder.

You give a thumbs up weakly before coughing loudly and standing upright.

"LET'S GO PARTY!" Jimin yells loudly across the lawn as he throws his arms up in the air.

You watch as other drunken college kids cheer along with him and you roll your eyes as Hoseok squeezes your shoulder.

You've managed to avoid conversing or dancing throughout the night which seemed like the only highlight so far. The typical pushing and shoving from drunk people to get places was the norm so far. You've been offered blunts and other varying drugs that you politely refused.

Finally, you found an empty couch in the large living room for you to become a loner in. Watching the drunken couple get up from making out to take their affairs elsewhere, you swooped in like a hawk to sit like a marble statue.

You spot Taehyung, his arm high up on the wall as he cages a girl between his hips. They're talking (more like screaming at each other over the loud music) and you lean your head back on the couch as you watch them.

Tae has always had an effervescent personality ever since you were very little, so it's no surprise as he holds his hand out to the random girl and she takes it willingly. You'll have no ride home tonight, you find yourself thinking.

Jaemin hasn't come looking for you once since you saw him on the lawn. He was a partier, you were not.

"Hey!" you hear someone scream to your right.

Looking to the owner of the voice, you give a small smirk as Hoseok flops down beside you.

"I was looking for you!" he calls into your ear as he passes you a Solo cup.

"Why?" you reply confused as your eyes focus on his handsome face in the dim lighting of the living room.

"Because I knew you'd be all alone!" he quips, elbowing you gently with a smirk.

You roll your eyes, the corners of your lips turning upward and you bring the Solo cup to your mouth.

"It's like watching a group of crazed monkeys jumping around!" He jokes as you both watch people dance.

You can feel yourself giggle softly, you couldn't hear anything soft above the music.

There's silence between you two for a bit, but it's comfortable. You can feel his thigh pressing into yours gently as you both watch people moving along with the music.

"Where's Jaemin?" Hoseok calls once more and you shrug flippantly as you take a sip of the mixed drink.

Vodka and cranberry.

"Did you make this?!" you ask him as he throws his arm over the lip of the couch.

He nods with a smile before raising his own.

"It's my favorite!" you call back to him.

"I know!" he replies happily before looking back at all the people.

He's so thoughtful, it's bizarre. Taking another swig of the drink, your eyes catch Jaemin walking up the stairs to his bedroom. Not even a minute later, a girl follows with a knowing smile set on her face.

Your eyebrow raises at the sight and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.  Sitting up slightly, Hoseok follows your gaze and he practically blanches at what you could possibly be thinking.

"Excuse me." you call to him as you stand up.

"Y/N! Wait!" Hoseok screams over the music but his voice gets softer as you weave through all the people dancing.

You feel his hand curl around your arm and your first instinct is to pull away from him. But, he keeps his grip steadfast.

"Stay with me." Hoseok pleads in your ear.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you rip your hand away from him. You grip the banister of the stairs.

As you look up at the second floor landing, it seems more daunting with each and every step.

"Yo!" Jimin cheers as he climbs up the stairs with you.

"Gonna go get your freak on?!" he jeers. Hoseok is quick to elbow him in the ribs, sending a cautionary glance his way that shuts him up quickly.

"Y-Y/N?" Jimin asks as you clutch tighter onto the staircase banister. Your knuckles turn white and you have to focus on your breathing as you ascend further.

You can’t even begin to respond as you reach the top of the staircase. Your mind is running a mile a minute.

Sure, you and Jaemin weren’t attached at the hip but you’ve been dating a year. He never even has given the hint that he was getting tired of you or bored of your presence. Although you could be completely different at times, you were happy when you were together. You didn’t need to see him every day to feel complete, you thought you both were okay.

“Y/N. You don’t have to do this.” Hoseok says as he grabs the Solo cup from your hand.

You can barely hear him above the sound of your heart beating in your ears.

Everything is muffled, even the high volume music that pumps throughout the house.

You spot Taehyung, making out with the girl from earlier outside Jimin’s bedroom. He catches you out of the corner of his eye and sees how ghostly pale you’ve become, his blood runs cold at the sight.

“What’s wrong?” he yells as he leaves the girl on her own.

Swallowing thickly, you ignore him. Your feet are slow and sluggish but you make your way to Jaemin’s room without a second thought.

Your hand shakes as you reach for the door knob. You can hear loud, bitter whispers from the men behind you as you clamp down on the metal in hand. Taking a deep breath, you thrust the door open.

You take your boyfriend of a year in your sights, his hands on the random girls hips as she straddles him. Apparently, they wasted no fucking time getting naked.

Your eyes flutter shut at the image now burned into your corneas. And, you feel as if a hole has been punched through your gut.

Upon opening your eyes, you see your boyfriend's head angle towards the door. His sideburns are caked down with sweat and with narrowed eyes he finally makes out your figure in the dark hallway.

“Holy shit! Hey, baby!” He yells out surprised as he shoves her off his lap.

Just hearing his voice, how it’s meant to sound playful brings tears to your eyes. Your nasal passages burn with bitter intent and you look down at the floor as he sits up.

“Hey, Y/N! Listen, I-” you’re shoved out the way by Taehyung and Jimin who advance towards the quarterback with venom dripping from their gaze.

“You fucking asshole!” Taehyung screams as he punches Jaemin in the face.

You feel arms wrapping around you, none other than Hoseok’s as he pulls you away.

“Chill man! It’s fucking college! You think I was going to just stay with your introverted little creepy friend for the rest of my life?!” you hear Jaemin scream as Hoseok tugs you towards the staircase.

You decided to walk home, even though it was freezing outside. The sharp breeze chills you to the bone and sets your mind alight as you trudge through the brown, crinkled leaves that line the sidewalks.

Hoseok has stayed by your side throughout the walk and thankfully, he hasn’t said a word. You were mad at yourself for crying. Stopping every so often to wipe bitter tears off your cheeks as you folded in on yourself.

He can see you shivering as you get closer to your dorm and he tugs off his leather jacket. Swinging it over your shoulders, he hooks his arm around you before pulling you into his chest.

You feel too dead inside to move, but the warmth and comfort of his body is nice.

“You don’t have to talk. But, I will.” Hoseok says as you finally reach your dorm.

Opening up the door for you, he waits as you scan the keycard to enter the building.

Once safely in the elevator, you shrug off his leather jacket before handing it back to him with a small murmur of a thank you.

You feel lucky that your dorm room is a single, because tonight you would not be ready to deal with a roommate.

Stepping inside your dorm, you make your way over to your bed before sitting down with a huff.

Hoseok, the handsome, kind man that he is sits in front of you. He crosses his legs and all you can see in his eyes is sorrow.

“You are so amazing. You’re too fucking good for that piece of shit asshole. You deserve so much better than him. Even if you come off rough around the edges, you’re kind to your friends and you care deeply about things that are important to you. You’re smart and confident in what you do know and you’re a force to be reckoned with. Fuck him if he doesn’t appreciate you. There are plenty of people in the world that do. Me being one of them,” he says as he puts his hands on your knees.

You weren’t in the mood for nice comments but the way that he says it, with such conviction makes you feel almost lighter in a way.

You open your mouth to reply but nothing comes out.

“You don’t have to talk, you don’t have to entertain me. I’m here for you to make sure you’re okay.” Hoseok says gently as he runs his hands over your knees.

Maybe you’ve been too harsh with him. Maybe he was someone you wanted in your life. He’s helped you in ways you didn’t even think you would need tonight. He’s dependable.

"Thanks, Hobi." you manage to whisper out.

It was a nickname you made for him and only him. And, only you could use it.

"You can lay down if you want. I won't leave you alone, unless you want me too," he says softly.

You didn't know if you could handle being all by yourself right now after the night you've had.

"Stay," you whisper as you take off your hoodie.

He gives an understanding nod as you lay down on your bed. Pulling the covers over you, he sighs gently as you close your eyes.

You never really understood until now why Jimin and Taehyung brought Hoseok into your group. Of course, he was kind and fun to be around but he was dependable and just a genuinely good friend.

"Sit," you tell him as you push yourself flush against the wall, turning onto your side.

Hoseok seems to be fighting within himself for a second before he's kicking off his shoes to sit up against the headboard beside you.

He brings his knees up to his chest before wrapping his arms around them. You've noticed him doing it several times in the past. It's endearing to watch him do it every time, like he needs to make room for something.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you remember the horrible scene from not too long ago. You really, really liked him. Even if you weren't the best at showing it.

"I thought we were okay. I know that sometimes I can be difficult to be with b-"

"Y/N," Hoseok interrupts you. You look up at him as he angles his face down towards yours, "There is nothing wrong with you. This is his fault. I'm not going to sit here and let you beat yourself up over that fucking douchebag."

You hum unsurely, as your fingers pull at a stray strand of fabric that sticks out from your comforter.

"I just… I don't date people because I'm not confident or anything and look what happens," you reply hopelessly as you turn onto your back. Staring at the ceiling, your eyes flit from one glow in the dark star that you and Jimin stuck up there to the other.

"You're beautiful. Not just your face, but your being is beautiful. Confidence isn't easy to gain but you should have it because you deserve it. You're pretty wonderful." Hoseok says as he looks up at the ceiling with you.

His words are warming, like chicken soup when you've got a cold.

"Thanks for being my friend Hobi," you say as you close your eyes.

"Thanks for being mine," he replies, knocking his foot playfully into your hip.

The bedroom door swings open with your two best friends and you sit up on your elbows as they file in.

Taehyung's knuckles are cut up, dried blood flecks his costume and his fingers. Jimin is the same, but a stream of dried blood is apparent from his nose and your eyes widen at the sight.

Tae looks over you before jumping onto your body.

You groan loudly as he manhandles you. He wraps his arms around you into a bear hug before peppering your cheek with kisses.

"I'm so sorry," he cries out as you push at his shoulders.

"Get off me!" you whine, slapping the bloody shirt away from you.

"What happened to you?" Hoseok asks Jimin.

"Jaemin hooked me when I told him that he's no longer welcome in Alpha Sigma Tau." Jimin spits at the simple mention of his name and you feel your heart almost as light as a feather as he winks at you.

Hoseok high fives Chim before looking back up at the ceiling shaking his head.

Maybe being a weird foursome is better than a trio.

Being on campus as the quarterback's ex-girlfriend is uncomfortable and a hard pill to swallow. But, it's easier with the three lunatics you call best friends.

"Help me pack!" you hear Taehyung complain as you lean against the headboard of his bed.

Hoseok throws a pair of briefs at him before grimacing.

"Why should we help you pack when you didn't even invite us?" Jimin quips as he lifts his head from the hardwood floor.

The younger best friend scoffs loudly as he throws his skiing goggles into his suitcase.

"Believe me, if I could bring you all to the Swiss Alps -- I would. But, you know how my parents are."

You do in all honesty. Taehyung belongs to one of the richest families in the area and his family is quick to dismiss others who are not of their similar standing. You were lucky that your mother was his father's assistant and the same goes for Jimin with Taehyung's mother.

"What are you doing for Christmas, Jimin?" Hoseok asks curiously as he leans back against the headboard beside you.

"I'm going to France with my younger brother. Our mom got us a good deal at the Four Seasons." Jimin says flippantly as he fixes his varsity jacket.

Hoseok hums before nudging you, "What about you?" he asks softly.

Your heart pangs uncomfortably as you look at your different colored socks.

"I'll probably just stay here for Christmas. I was supposed to spend Christmas with Jaemin and my parents are going out of the country so I'll be here," you reply as you look out the window.

You can see the sudden snow flurry sticking to the bare branches of trees and the windowsill of Taehyung's bedroom window.

You didn't realize just how fucked up your holiday plans would be after Jaemin cheated on you just a month ago.

"Oh. No way." Hoseok mumbles softly and you clear your throat uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry Y/N." Jimin whispers as he sits up.

You shrug as Hoseok puts his hand on your shoulder.

He looks at the other guys before clearing his throat.

"Well… you can come with me for Christmas, if you'd like. You'd be more than welcome," he suggests. Just the thought makes your eyes widen.

"Why would I go home with you for Christmas?" you ask, confused.

You watch the tips of his ears turn red and he shakes his head oddly.

"I mean, it was just a suggestion. You'd be welcome at my house. My parents are really kind," he whispers softly.

Taehyung looks at Jimin and they wink in tandem to one another.

"You should go, Y/N! I'm sure it would be a lot of fun! Better than sitting in your room eating ramen for Christmas!" Taehyung cheers as he throws a bunch of socks into his suitcase.

"I couldn't intrude," you reply softly, looking down at your hands.

Go home with Hoseok for Christmas? Why would you ever do such a thing? Sure, he's one of your best friends but… you would meet his parents. You would sit around the table like a family. That's just… insane.

"You wouldn't be intruding. Plus, my parents know all about you. They'd love to meet you," Hobi says, knocking his knee into yours.

"You tell your parents about me?" your voice is small and distant as you pick at the skin around your nails.

"Of course I do. You're amazing," his voice is enraptured with a breathy laugh and now you can feel your ears starting to warm up.

There's silence for a moment which Taehyung is more than happy to break. "That's perfect! See, Y/N! You won't be alone for Christmas!"

You hum uneasily before looking over to Hoseok as he tilts his head at you. His eyes crease in delight and his expression is one of pure earnestness.

You don't want to be alone for the holidays. Because, when you're truly alone the sadness sets in.

"You're sure it's okay?" you ask him and his smile widens at your words.

"I'm positive," he replies as he slings his arm over your shoulder.

Hoseok was used to your silence by now. It doesn't bother him one bit, it's just nice to know that you're sitting beside him.

With his wrist up on the steering wheel, his eyes glance over and it warms his heart to see you taking in the colorful Christmas lights strung up on houses.

It's a pleasant surprise to him when you speak first. "I didn't buy your parents any presents."

Hoseok lets out an amused chuckle as he focuses back on the road.

"You don't need presents, you are the present for Christmas." he lets out a laugh as you elbow his ribs. "Hey! I'm driving! You maniac!" he yells as you chuckle.

"I'm serious! I need to buy your parents something at least!" you complain as you enter town from the outskirts.

"We can stop at Jeulgeoum." he replies as you continue to drive.

The town he grew up in is very small. Like it's own community. You feel like the Grinch as Hoseok starts to wave at random people that notice his car in the middle of the street.

You really, really hate holidays. Your parents were never excited to spend time with you like you used to watch in movies. Even if it was two days out of the whole year, it was more like a hassle to them.

As Hoseok continues to wave, you find yourself sliding down in the passenger's seat.  You pull your hood up, eyes fixed on the dashboard.

"That's Mr. Lee. He makes the best mochi in the town center. I used to go into town with my sister and he used to make me dance for free pieces of rice cake." his voice is filled with warmth as he recalls the memory. You find your head peeking up to look at the old man and the corner of your lips turns upwards as he waves wildly to Hoseok.

The car slows down and you look over to the handsome boy as he lowers his window.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Lee!" Hoseok cheers out the window.

"You as well, Hoseok. Merry Christmas to you and your girlfriend." Widening your eyes, you pull your hood up. You train your eyes on your jeans as you lower your head.

This was a BAD idea. It hadn't even occurred to you that people would call you his girlfriend. Then, you'd have to waste your breath explaining that you're just friends and why you're with him rather than your family.

"Sorry about that." Hobi whispers as he rolls up his window.

You hum in agreement as he puts his hand on your shoulder.

"Just try to enjoy yourself. I know that it's hard but you might just have fun," he says softly.

Hoseok seemed to know everyone which isn't shocking. He's so absolutely kind and he did grow up here.

Entering Jeulgeoum, you're thankful for the heat that rushes to your cheeks as soon as you step in.

"My mom likes glass figurines." Hoseok says as he closes the door shut behind you.

There was glass as far as the eye can see and your first thought is do not fucking touch anything. You will not let your clumsiness embarrass you today.

"Welcome to Jeul- Jung Hoseok?!" The warm voice makes you turn your head and you feel yourself relaxing at the older woman as she smiles widely at the sight of him.

"Hi Mrs. Kim! Merry Christmas!" he says, pulling down the hood of his coat.

His black hair is sticking up at odd ends and you notice how endearing it is. His smile is wide, cheekbones bouncing up to the heavens as the woman gasps.

"Oh my goodness! Merry Christmas!" she cheers, rounding the register to get a good look at him.

Awkwardly, you look around at the glass pieces.

"Well you've gotten so big! It feels like almost yesterday I was kicking you out of my shop with the back of a broom." you smirk at her words, you can't imagine Hoseok running in here like a bull in a China shop.

"And who is this?" your heart begins to beat faster and you look at Hobi as his smile becomes warm.

"This is my friend, Y/N." he slings his arm over your shoulder for good measure.

You bow your head to Mrs. Kim taking off your hood. Her chubby cheeks are jolly and sweet as she bows her head back to you.

"Well, aren't you just gorgeous. A friend or a girlfriend?" Mrs. Kim quips as she rounds the register once more.

Her question makes you blush fiercely, your neck heating up quicker than a fireplace ever could.

"Just a friend. A really, really good friend." he replies as his hand drifts over your shoulder comfortably.

Mrs. Kim hums playfully and you feel him tug at your body. "Let's look for something."

Your eyes are enraptured by the glass figures. They're so incredibly detailed and gorgeously cut. It's really a wonderful skill.

"She makes all of these?" you find yourself asking, your hand reaches for a figure but you back away quickly at the simple thought of breaking it.

"Oh, yeah. Mrs. Kim is an artist with this stuff. I made one once when I was younger. Come look." Pulling you down the long aisles, you reach a glass case at the back of the store.

"All of the kids in town could make one when they turned ten," his eyes glance over the figures before he's snapping his fingers and pointing. "That's mine," he says happily.

Your eyes narrow at the small figure and you tilt your head at it. You try to be polite, humming inquisitively as you stare.

"It's supposed to be a…" No words come to mind as you look at the jagged and misshapen pieces that are seemingly glued together.

"It's the Hulk," he says proudly and you nod slowly, your eyebrows furrowing.

"I… see," you murmur to yourself.

"I'm just kidding, this shit is ugly. I have no idea what the fuck I was making," he says and you elbow him in the ribs with a giggle as you stand up straight.

Looking up at him, it's almost as if you're noticing his eyes for the first time. Cinnamon colored irises with flecks of coffee that send a warmth spreading throughout your chest.

"Come on. My mom really likes snow globes," he says with a wink.

The selection of snow globes was actually surprising. The one that catches your attention first is a small boy standing on one leg as he skates around a pond. The town in the background is so tiny and for some reason it reminds you of the man standing beside you.

Without a second thought, you reach for it and you find Hoseok's hand on top of yours.

Pulling your hand away from the warmth of his, you find yourself smiling almost to an embarrassing state.

"Great minds think alike," he quips as he picks it up.

You snort gently, a breathy noise as he inspects the snow globe closer.

"Looks like me," he decided before pulling you towards the register.

"One Jung Hoseok looking snow globe to go please," he jokes as he pulls out his wallet.

"Hobi," you complain as you pull out yours.

Grabbing your wallet, he stuffs it into his back pocket before opening up his.

"It won't be my present if you pay for it!" you whine gently as he leans up against the counter.

"It's from the both of us," he says as he hands Mrs. Kim his credit card.

Rolling your eyes, you watch the small flecks of fake snow swirl around the snow globe. Maybe Christmas with Hobi isn't so bad.

It wasn't a long drive from Jeulgeoum to his family house. But, every inch closer you seemed to get, your nervousness was reaching an all level high.

What if his parents didn't like you? What if you were just intruding on their special holiday plans?

"Hey," Hoseok calls to you as he pulls off of the long road. Rows of houses begin to line the street and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. Looking over at him, he slows down the car.

"You okay?" he asks, concerned.

"What? Yes. No, I'm fine," you say quickly and he can hardly believe you at this point.

"Whoa. Whoa," he pulls over the car before turning fully to you.

Your eyes focus on a blown up Santa that seems to sway in the chilly December breeze.

"You're going to have a lot of fun. Believe me, and I know you don't do fun. My parents are really, really nice people. You aren't intruding and you aren't unwelcome. I promise. You'll see," he says as he puts his hand on your knee.

You feel him squeeze gently and you find yourself calming down almost immediately.

"Okay," you whisper softly.

"Okay," he replies as he gives your knee one more squeeze.

Parking in front of his childhood home, you can see your friend relax. Almost as if he's been on a long journey and he's finally comfortable again.

The house is big, Christmas lights strung up from the gutters and down the columns that hold up the facade of the house.

"My mom always goes crazy with decorations," he says as he opens up the car door.

He's not wrong, a multitude of lit up statues litter the front lawn but they're all perfectly positioned.

Your favorite is the snowman standing right before the walkway.

Hoseok smirks to himself as he gathers your bags from the backseat.

"It's pretty," you find yourself saying as you climb out of the car.

Tugging your coat closer to your body, something about this feels sweet. Your parents were never that big into holidays and they always leapt at the chance to go somewhere warmer as soon as the temperature dropped.

You find yourself realizing that you've never really had a true Christmas. Or, one like the movies, anyway.

"Hold your snow globe," Hoseok calls to you as he puts the neatly wrapped package on the hood of the car.

You grab the package, holding on to it for dear life as he slings bags over his shoulders.

You didn't pack much but two bags is still a bit much to have on top of his own.

"I'll carry my bags," you tell him as you walk around the Hyundai.

He frowns as you hold your hand out.

"You're going to get me in trouble," he jeers and you shake your hand almost impatiently.

Rolling his eyes, he gives you your bags and he watches as you haul them over your shoulder.

"I can carry them, y'know. I'm not broken," he says as he walks by your side towards his house.

"I'm not broken either," you counter and he chuckles to himself.

Stepping in front of the snowman, he tugs off his scarf. He wraps the warm fabric around its neck before smirking.

"Now he's ready for Christmas." The act makes you smile and he winks at you as you walk up the long walkway towards the house.

You take large, deep breaths as shadows flit by the windows.

"Just enjoy yourself," Hoseok tells you as he jogs up the steps of the patio.

He checks on you once more, rubbing his hand over your arm before knocking on the door.

The sound frays your nerves as you clutch tighter onto the gift box in your hand.

You can hear animated talking behind the front door. As the door opens, you find yourself smiling as Hoseok throws his arms around who you assume is his mother.

"Merry Christmas!" he cries out happily and she replies with a giggle.

"Merry Christmas, my Seok," he chuckles as he squeezes her tight to his body.

Pulling away, her eyes find yours and the smile she gives is so like Hoseok's you suddenly feel comfortable. Running her fingers through her black bob cut, she looks you over before frowning.

"Yah. Why is she carrying her own bags?" his mother chides to her son.

He narrows his eyes at you playfully before folding his arms, "I told you, you got me in trouble."

With a smirk, you shrug to him.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N! We've heard so much about you! You're very welcome here," his mother says as she hugs you tightly.

It takes you a second, not quite used to parental affection, before you're hugging her back.

"Who's that?! My smelly brother?" you hear from inside and you giggle as Hoseok grimaces.

"Hi noona!" he calls loudly from the doorway.

"Come in, come in." his mom ushers you in and he holds his arm out for you to go in first.

How gentlemanly.

You can smell spices in the air, can hear animated talking and it feels strange to be in such a comforting atmosphere. You've never had this in your life.

"Thank you so much for letting me come, Mrs. Jung." you say softly as Hobi pulls the bags from your shoulder.

Taking off her apron, she clicks her teeth.

"Nonsense. We've heard all about you from Seok, it's like we know you already. And, please, call me Eunsook," she says as his father stands up from the couch.

You're used to sons shaking their fathers hands. Taehyung and Jimin do it on the regular so it's weird to see Hoseok hug his father so tightly.

"Welcome home, kid." he says before pulling away.

Mr. Jung looks over at you, a kind smile plastered on his face as he leans in for a hug.

"Welcome Y/N. Please, call me Baekgu," you nod as he pats your back gently.

"Thank you for being so welcoming," you whisper.

"Okay, let's not overwhelm her. It must be odd to be surrounded by new people. Why don't you both go upstairs and get comfortable. Then, when you come down maybe Y/N can help me make my sugar cookies." Hoseok was raised so well by his folks.

"I'd love that," you reply earnestly.

"Come on," Hoseok whispers in your ear.

Starting to pad up the carpeted steps, he turns his attention to his mother as she calls his name.

"You'll be sharing a room, hope you don't mind. The extra guest bedroom was converted to a home office," your eyes widen as you stare down at the carpet.

"Oh Jesus," you whisper fiercely to yourself.

Hoseok chuckles uncomfortably as he pulls the bags tighter to his shoulder.

His childhood bedroom is nothing like you thought it would be. Most kids, including yourself, had posters covering every inch of the walls but not his room. It's chic and stylish which isn't far off from how he is now.

You can hear gentle Christmas music wafting through the slightly cracked door as you look at his bed.

You've slept in the same room before while studying or if you all drank too much. But, you've never slept in the same bed as him. And, you've never been alone with each other.

"This'll be fun," he sounds confident and you're not sure if he's trying to mask nervousness with his tone.

"Yeah," you reply breathlessly as you sit on the edge of the bed.

You hear the bags thump onto the ground and you can hardly believe that you're here.

"They're nice, right?" Hobi asks as he shrugs off his coat.

"So nice, no wonder you grew up so well," you say, earning a smile from him.

"Get comfortable and then we'll head back downstairs. My mom must really like you, not even my sister gets to help her make sugar cookies," he calls as he enters the en suite bathroom.

Looking down at your knees, you find yourself smiling. How have you never noticed how precious he is before?

"Y/N! They're coming out perfectly!" Eunsook cheers delighted as she peeks into the oven.

She's so cheery, it's kind of amazing. Your eyes flit to the open living room watching as Hoseok sits beside his father watching Home Alone.

This is so… normal. So perfectly normal. You've never done this before with your parents. You've never felt 'at home' or comfortable around them and they gave birth to you.

"So Y/N," Dawon, Hoseok's sister, calls to you as she fills up your glass with more red wine, "Hoseok never shuts up about you."

"Noona!" Hoseok yells from the living room without even turning his head.

You smirk fondly as you lean down on the island counter.

"What does he say?" you find yourself whispering.

She tilts her head, fingers carding through her brown hair as she leans in. “Mostly how perfect you are.”

“Noona!” Hoseok yells once more and you find yourself smiling above the lip of your glass.

“Hobi is really great. I’m really lucky to have a friend like him,” you reply.

You feel a hand drift over your lower back as he walks into the room.

“Oh, Hobi is it?” Dawon jeers to him.

“Shut up,” he whispers in her ear through clenched teeth before opening up the fridge and grabbing a beer.

She holds her free hand up, a perfect smile plastered on to her face.

“Hoseok tells us all the time how happy he is to have found such a good friend. But, he never told us how gorgeous you are.” Eunsook says, wiping her hands on the kitchen towel that is over her shoulder.

“Yes I did,” he replies as he cracks open the bottle cap.

The warmth that radiates over your neck makes you clear your throat. He really has spoken about you to his family. It’s pretty special in your opinion. He could talk about so many other things but he chose to talk about you?

“When?” Dawon counters as she sits up on the barstool.

“All the time,” he mumbles as he throws the bottle cap into the garbage.

“All you told me was that Y/N was so beautiful and you’re so lucky that you get to spend time with her even when Taehyung and Jimin aren’t around,” your eyes find him as he pushes his sister with his shoulder like a warning.

“Yeah… Well… Dad? Did you call me?” he asks, craning his neck to the living room.

“No.” Baekgu calls back but you can hear the humor lacing his voice.

“Oh, that’s so weird. I thought you definitely called me,” Hoseok says, pushing off the kitchen island with widening eyes as he scurries back to the living room.

You find yourself chuckling at his antics and you watch as the legs of your thick red wine slowly make their way back down to the glass.

“Hoseok is amazing. You raised him so well,” you tell Eunsook as she pours herself a glass of wine.

She hums in agreement watching as Hoseok sits down beside his father. “Yes. He was always such a good boy. Hopefully he can find a girlfriend that appreciates him like we all do.”

You nod slowly and it’s the first time anyone around Hoseok mentions a girlfriend. You didn’t even think of that. But, just the notion makes you uncomfortable and you gulp a large mouthful of the red wine to steady yourself.

“You’d be a good girlfriend, of course.” Dawon says flippantly as she clutches the red wine to her chest.

“Noona!” you hear Hoseok scream and all three of you laugh gently as the timer dings signifying the cookies are done baking.

Sitting down at dinner, you find yourself staring into the pot of stew as the others talk around you. Why haven't you ever given much thought to Hobi who’s been by your side for so long now? Eunsook bringing up him getting a girlfriend earlier seemed so far beyond your imagination. But, you couldn’t even imagine him being in a relationship. You couldn’t imagine him not being with you or the other guys anymore. You couldn’t imagine him not being by your side.

“You’re thinking too hard.” Hoseok whispers in your ear.

“Huh?” you ask as you turn your head to him.

“Eat.” He murmurs with a smile, nodding his head to your bowl. You hum in response as you pick up your spoon.

You feel his knee press against your thigh and it’s become a constant that you welcome so dearly. It grounds you, in all honesty. Brings you back to reality.

“So, Y/N. Seok tells me that your parents went on vacation for Christmas.” Baekgu says as he sets down his spoon.

Clearing your throat, you look up at him. “Yeah. My parents don’t really like the cold or… festivities so they usually just go away for most major holidays.” You reply as you tuck into your stew.

Eunsook hums curiously and you know you should probably feel embarrassed but you’re already so comfortable here that it doesn’t seem to bother you as much.

“Well, you can come here for any holidays. If Hoseok starts coming without you then I’ll be very sad. You’re a great girl,” his mother says with a smile.

This is family. And, you can’t believe you’ve never really had one before.

Hoseok smirks down into his bowl before pouring you another glass of wine. “See. Told you,” he whispers in your ear.

By the end of the evening, you found yourself laughing loudly and listening attentively which is something that doesn’t come easily to you.

Hoseok probably has never heard you laugh so earnestly and the noise is just as gorgeous as you are.

Leaning back against the arm of the couch, he watches you as you listen to Dawon. God, you don’t even know how amazing you are. But, he does. He always has known. You were in every one of his classes and he found it so difficult to pay attention with you around him.

You were so opinionated. So smart. So beautiful. You were everything he loved and you couldn't even see it.

He smiles as you press your thigh against his knee. Even if he could only ever be your friend, he’d be okay with that because being around you was worth it all. Every single second.

“So Hoseok thinks it would be funny to throw my favorite doll out the window. So what do I do? I threw his action figures up onto the roof and he was crying for hours and hours until dad went up with a ladder to go grab them.” Dawon says animatedly and you giggle along with Eunsook as she tells the story.

Turning your head to Hobi, you find he’s already staring at you. His cinnamon irises are alight with warmth and joy. It makes something bloom inside of you, something so precious and perfect.

“She’s missing out on the detail where I threw her doll out the window because she tripped me up the stairs,” he mumbles as he brings his beer bottle to his lips.

"It was an accident!" she counters from underneath the Christmas tree.

"I was five. Nothing was an accident back then," he chuckles as you giggle, leaning back into the comfort of the couch.

"Yeah, well I was nine and it was an accident."

You hear them continue to bicker as you stare at the fireplace. The embers burn hot, rising high into the air. You watch the logs crackle, small veins burning bright oranges and reds. Feeling Hoseok's hand absentmindedly pressing to your back, you tilt your head to the lip of the couch.

You wouldn't want him to get a girlfriend. You wouldn't want to be without him.

He takes away all your loneliness and your pain. He makes you smile and he makes you happy. He makes you think that just being in his presence, it's like being with someone that's your own.

"Let's go up to bed," he whispers in your ear.

You force yourself to sit up, eyes ripping away from the fire.

"Good night," you tell his parents and they reply with the same.

"Use prot-" Dawon's voice is cut off by Hoseok as he follows you to the stairs.

"Noona!" he calls quickly, narrowing his eyes at her as she giggles.

"My sister can be annoying sometimes. I'm sorry," he says as he closes the bedroom door behind you both.

You smile fondly as you sit down on the bed. "I really like your sister. She's incredible."

He hums with a chuckle as he takes off his shirt.

"Yeah. Okay," he quips back.

Your eyes rake over his toned upper body. The way his abs press against his golden skin has you averting your eyes so quickly. Suddenly, it feels like it's a thousand degrees in here.

"Why'd you invite me?" you find yourself asking as he throws on an oversized t-shirt.

Stopping in his tracks to the bathroom, he turns on one heel to look at you.

"Because you deserve to be with loving people for the holidays or just in general, really," he answers you with a raised eyebrow.

"So you were taking pity on me? I'm a charity case," you whisper.

Maybe it's all the wine or maybe it's just how insecure you truly are but this is coming out of nowhere and you can't stop it.

"What? No. Of course I'm not taking pity on you. I wanted to spend Christmas with you," he replies, confused.

"Really? Because it feels like maybe you're just entertaining me because I had nowhere to go. Maybe you should have brought a girlfriend or something!"

Ah, there it is. It's jealousy. The combination of jealousy and wine is not a fearsome friend to you, apparently.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he asks, appalled as he leans against the door frame of his bathroom.

"You should have brought Hana or Jaeeun with you, they like you and want to be your girlfriend," you say as your toes dig into the carpeting beneath you.

He scoffs loudly, his head lolling back at the simple mention of the other girls.

"I don't want Hana or Jaeeun to meet my fucking parents! I wanted you to meet my parents!" he counters as he walks towards you.

"Why me? So I could see what I'm missing in my own family?!" you ask, standing up.

"No! I wanted you to meet my family because I fucking love you!" he yells as he steps in front of you.

Oh.

You blink slowly at his confession. The only sound in the room is his ragged breathing and you stare at his neck as it begins to flush pink.

"Jesus Christ," he mumbles, his fingers carding through his hair as he takes a deep breath.

He goes to walk away but you grab onto his shirt to keep him in front of you.

"You love me?" you ask softly, almost as if you can't believe what you've heard.

"Yeah. Of course I fucking do. Don't be ridiculous. I've always loved you, since Advanced Science in freshman year. I was so pissed when Jaemin asked you out before I could. And then I was even more pissed when that son of bitch cheated on you. Because you don't deserve that. You deserve everything. And even if I'm just your friend, I still try to give it to you," his admission is like a loaded hand grenade that's been thrown at your feet.

"Hobi," you whisper and he runs his hands over his face.

"I don't want your pity or whatever it is you think you're going to give me," he mumbles as his eyes flutter shut.

Looking up at his face, you watch his perfectly shaped lips part for breath. You've always been so dense to not realize it. Everything that he does when you're together, it's all for you. It's all to make you smile. To make you happy.

Standing up on the tips of your toes, you press your lips to his. He shudders against your lips, eyes widening for a second before cupping the sides of your head.

He pulls you closer, deepening the kiss as his thumbs graze over the apples of your cheeks.

With a gentle sigh, you feel your body relax and melt against his.

He's always been for you. Even if it's taken you this long to understand.

"Y/N." Hobi whispers against your lips confused but you silence him again with another kiss.

He moans against your lips gently, pushing you down into the bed as his fingers intertwined into your hair.

"What are you telling me?" he asks as you run your hand over his arms.

"That I'm yours," you reply.

That was the first holiday he brought love into your heart.

Every holiday afterwards was just as perfect.

He kept up stupid traditions that were so corny that you couldn't help but love. Even making Arbor day special. Yeah. Arbor day. He bought a sapling just for you both to plant on the campus before you graduated so there was always something blooming from where you first met.

He's lovesick and adoring. And, he's all yours.

You loved spending Christmas and Chuseok with him. You've grown to love his family like your own and even five years later nothing has changed. He was so perfectly yours every second of the day.

"Baby girl," you hear from the bedroom. Your head turns to your husband's voice and you smile at how whiney he sounds.

"What's wrong?" you ask as you get up from the couch.

"What sounds better, deck my balls or stop staring at my presents?" Hoseok asks as he holds up two of his ugly Christmas sweaters.

You grimace, leaning against the doorjamb as he smiles widely.

"You are not wearing those to the cabin," you tell him.

With a pout, he tosses the sweaters onto your bed. "And, why not? They're festive."

"They're an abomination. If you wear those sweaters, I'm not sucking your dick until the New Year," you retort as he wraps his arms around you.

"No ugly sweaters. Got it. Yes, ma'am," he mumbles as he leans down to kiss you. Giggling into the kiss, you wrap your arms around his neck.

"I feel bad that we aren't going to your parents this year," you whisper against him and he wrinkles his nose cutely at your words.

"Well, we should have a Christmas all to ourselves sometimes too, baby. We're married now, we have to make traditions for ourselves too," you hum in agreement as he hugs you tightly.

"Can I bring the 'it's not going to lick itself' candy cane shirt?" he asks with a gorgeous smile.

"I will hit you," you threaten as he pulls away.

Holding up his hands, he chuckles to himself before going back to packing your bags.

The journey up to the cabin is peaceful. You stare at the snow covered limbs on the trees as you continue to drive down the long road.

You feel Hobi squeeze your hand and your eyes are on him in seconds.

"I love spending the holidays with you," he says, bringing your hand up to his lips.

With a smile, you angle your body closer to his upon instinct.

"I kind of really love you," you tell him as he looks over at you.

"Such a weird coincidence. I was thinking I kind of loved you too," he jokes as he looks back at the road.

Pulling up to the cabin, you take in the absolute splendor of it. It's so simplistic and so welcoming. Icicles and snow dot the edges of the awning. You breathe a happy sigh, your breath fogging up in front of you signifying just how cold it is.

Pulling your coat tighter to your body, you watch the man you love gather the multitude of bags from the back of the car.

"Let me help you," you insist as you walk around the car.

"Back off, woman. This is your man's job to do.” Rolling your eyes, you fold your arms as he drapes bag strap after bag strap over his upper body.

"Carry this," he says, handing you a bag of groceries.

You feel the light weight of it before peeking inside.

"This just has bread in it," you say confused.

"Exactly. You hold the bread," he says finitely before slamming the trunk down.

Tossing you the keys to the cabin, he looks up at the wooden house before smiling.

"This is perfect," he whispers to himself.

"Fuck, it's cold." You complain as you enter the cabin. The wooden boards creak under your feet as you step inside. It's so homey in here. So completely domestic.

"Can you put the groceries away while I light a fire?" Hoseok asks you sweetly.

You nod with a giddy smile as he throws your bags down on the large bed.

The fake Christmas tree is kind of adorable with lights strung up in the corner as well as all of the gingham patterns that surround you.

"How do I light this?" Hoseok calls and you snort gently as you start unpacking the groceries.

"With gasoline?" you ask confused, tossing stuff into the fridge.

"You want me to blow up the cabin? I got a renter's fee,” he asks appalled and you shrug with a chuckle.

You watch him as he crouches before the fireplace, how breathtaking he is. You can feel your stomach flipping and coiling with each passing second as you stare.

You were his and he is yours.

When he turns to you and he gives you a smile, you can see the small dimple below his bottom lip that sends a smile spreading over your own face.

He's always had the most gorgeous bone structure. His cheekbones are so high and the apples of his cheeks are so plump in all the right ways.

You find yourself leaning down on the counter with your elbows as your fists tuck beneath your chin.

"Hey!" he cheers as the wood catches on fire.

You giggle, watching as he thrusts his hand in the air.

Shrugging off his coat, he stands up tall. His body proportions are so astounding.

Finally, his eyes meet yours and he tilts his head to you. His eyes flutter shut as he gives you a wide smile.

"You're such a bad worker," he jeers as he walks toward you.

You hum in agreement as you stand back up.

He helps you toss the rest of your groceries into the fridge before wrapping his arms around your waist as you slam the refrigerator closed.

"This is perfect," he whispers in your ear, pressing his chest to your back.

With a smirk, you look around the cabin and you find it hard to disagree.

"Everything with you is perfect," you reply as he squeezes you tight.

"Now you're just saying that to flatter me," he jokes into your ear.

Cuddling up on the sofa, you lay your head on his shoulder as you watch Home Alone. It's a Christmas tradition for Hobi you've come to love. He's watched it every year since he was six.

"They've got good reception up here," he announces as you sip your wine.

"Yeah, they d-" Fatal last words as the electricity cuts out.

Hoseok sits up as the cabin creaks loudly with the sounds of harsh blowing winds.

His head turns to the window and you crawl off of him.

"Oh no," he mumbles, walking towards the windows.

Pulling back the curtains, you watch as large snowflakes fall onto the ground.

"It's a blizzard," he tells you with a wince.

Standing up, you sip your wine as you walk to his side.

The snow is piling up generously and you have a dull, nervous feeling aching throughout your chest.

Your husband gets to work, lighting candles around the cabin like it's his job.

"This is what happens when we don't go to your parents’ house," you sing as you help him light a few candles.

"This is going to ruin my plans," he grumbles to himself before throwing another log into the fire.

Opening the front door to the cabin, you can feel the harsh chill as it whips around outside.

"Oh Hoseok!" you call to him and he turns to the doorway before sighing gently.

There's a wall of snow built up at the door and it looks like you would not be going anywhere for awhile.

"We're snowed in," he mutters before running his fingers through his hair.

You decide to close the door as another breeze bursts through. Turning to your husband, you watch as he picks at some skin on his lip.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," you can hear the sadness enrapturing his voice and it's jarring.

It's rare to ever hear him sad. You don't like it.

"It's okay. We can just lay down and cuddle," you say, setting down your glass of wine on the counter.

You open up your arms to him, wanting a hug and wanting to give him some peace of mind.

He pulls you in, cradling your head to his chest with his hand as he looks around the dim cabin.

"I had plans for us. To go out and build a snowman. To go into town tomorrow and watch the caroling," he murmurs, dejectedly.

You hum as you pull him over to the large bed. "Christmas with you is perfect just on it's own. I don't need all those things to be happy. I have you."

It astounds him sometimes how much you've broken out of your shell.

He pulls back the gingham comforter, letting you crawl into bed first. And then, he's quick to crawl in behind you.

His arm wraps around your waist as he presses his chest flush to your back.

Your fingers begin to play with his, staring at the olden looking paintings that line the walls.

"I can remember the first time I ever saw you," Hoseok whispers in your ear as he cuddles closer to you.

A smirk begins to spread on your face as he kisses the shell of your ear.

"It was in Biology. You were wearing a black hoodie and those black skinny jeans. You didn't have a backpack and you didn't even have a pen. You flipped your notebook open and just fell asleep," you giggle at his words, hearing his smile widen with each word he says.

"I did like to sleep in Biology," you quip.

"But, you always passed the class. You never got lower than a ninety on a test. I was jealous, I used to think to myself, 'Damn. This woman is so fucking smart.' Then I saw you in Advanced Science. That's where you really paid attention. You used to twirl your hair and your finger when you were thinking hard about something," you hum as your eyes flutter shut.

The warmth of his breath spreads over your neck as he buries his face.

"I told Taehyung the first day I saw you without even knowing you were his best friend, 'I'm gonna marry that woman. I'm gonna have kids with her.' I was so… enraptured by you," he breathes out as his hand splays over your stomach.

You can only smile as he presses his hips harder to your backside.

"I was so fucking angry when that guy broke your heart… I can't even remember his name anymore but, I can remember how hurt you were. How broken you were and you didn't deserve it in the least. I wanted to fucking kill him," his hand begins to trail below the hem of your shirt and you shiver at how chilly his skin is.

"I was so fucking happy when you were coming home with me for Christmas our first year. You were so nervous. But, I knew you would love my family and that they would love you. I used to talk about you all the time. My mom would ask me how school was and my first thought would be to tell her how much fun I had with you during a study session or something," your eyes flutter shut as his hand ascends.

"Sounds like you were too busy paying attention to girls than to focus on school," you joke breathlessly as you press your ass against his crotch.

You can hear him moan gently against your ear, his perfect teeth graze your lobe and your lips press into a straight line.

"Then you got into that fight with me in my bedroom. Telling me to take other girls home with me for the holidays. I was so angry that you would even insinuate something like that.  And then… then you kissed me. And, I melted. Like snow on the first day of spring," he nibbles on your lobe, his growing erection digging into the globe of your ass.

You moan gently as you feel him grow hard behind you. Your stomach begins to flare with desire. Loins curling with aching need.

"I remember the first time I ever touched your body. You were wearing a blood red thong. Your skin was so flushed for me. Begging me to touch you," his breath is heavier now and you can hear him groan wantonly at the memory.

His hand cups your breast, squeezing gently as he kisses over your shoulder.

"You were so hard," you reply as he presses his now fully hardened erection between your ass cheeks.

"You always make me so fucking hard," he retorts as his free hand pulls yours to his crotch.

"Oh," you whisper breathlessly as he ruts against your palm.

You can feel the thin fabric of his pajamas becoming wet and sticky with precum. Rolling his tongue over your neck, he flips you onto your back.

In the fireplace glow, you watch his black hair fall into his eyes. His pupils blown out with lust, the cinnamon irises you love so deeply growing smaller by the second.

His perfect lips part and his eyes fall to your lips. They linger for a second before he's kissing you passionately.

The tip of his tongue licks over the seam of your lips and you part for him with a whine. His hand grips your breast harder, groaning long and low into the kiss as his tongue runs over yours.

Your hips buck up, your arousal starting to seep from you. You can feel your pussy clenching around nothing, begging to be filled by your husband.

He pulls away for only a second, taking off his shirt with hurried hands before he's kissing you once more.

Your fingers graze over his golden skin, the feeling producing goosebumps on his body.

You can remember how gorgeous his chest was when you were in his childhood bedroom that first Christmas. How his abs pressed and flexed beneath his skin. Nothing has changed.

Running your fingertips over the plains of his stomach, he gasps into your mouth gently, a carnal needy sound that sends you whimpering below him.

"Oh fuck," he whispers through gritted teeth.

You can smell his gentle cologne as his lips drift over your jawline. He smells of alderwood and citrus. The scent is so wholly him and so perfect.

"Get this off," you hear him command in your ear as he tugs on your tank top.

With a whimper, you sit up on your elbows discarding the fabric and his eyes harden at the state of you beneath him.

"Fuck," he curses before his lips are back on your skin.

Your legs part for him as he situates himself between them. His hands reach behind your back as he kisses down the column of your neck, slowly pulling down your bra straps.

He leaves his marks, pretty red and pink patches that signify you as his.

"I want everything with you. I want it all," he whispers against your collarbone.

"You have me," you reply as you card your fingers through his hair.

"I want to have a baby," he says as he pulls away from your skin.

Your heart begins to thud faster in the recesses of your chest. You've mentioned it in passing, you've commented on it in short spurts but you've never talked about it.

If it just happened, it happened. But, to hear him say it. For those words to pass his lips, you can feel yourself almost becoming euphoric.

"I want you to have my baby inside of you. Want to feel my baby growing in your belly," his voice is almost a plea and your hips lift at the needy sound.

"Yes," you reply.

His lips are on your fiercely once more, kissing your lips red and raw as he tugs off your bra with feral desire.

His hands palm your breasts, thumbs lovingly swiping over your hardening nipples. Gasping into his mouth, he swallows the sound.

He kisses down the valley of your breasts and you can feel his erection throbbing with desire against your clothed thigh.

"God, you're so beautiful, sweetheart," he sounds almost drunk off of his desires and you lick your reddened lips as he lowers his head.

His tongue runs circles over your nipple, your back arches with a moan and he wastes no time sliding his hand beneath your back to hold you up against him.

His lips pluck at your nipple, free hand pinching and rolling the other dexterously between his fingertips.

You feel almost crazy from his love. You can feel the desire pumping through your veins like each and every time before.

"Hobi!" you whimper out as your head lolls back.

"That's it, sweetheart," he whispers above your breast before showing the same treatment to the other.

You feel so hyper aware, especially when his hand glides over your stomach and downward. He pulls at the hem of your leggings, letting the fabric slap back to your skin with a gentle sting. You gasp with anticipation, your hips wiggling at the simple thought of being naked before him.

"Behave, sweetheart," he reminds you and you bite your lower lip, raising your hips patiently.

He kisses over the skin of your stomach, fingers enmeshing in the sides of your leggings and underwear before tugging roughly.

Strings of arousal break and cling to your thighs and your sodden lower lips.

"There she is," he mumbles, throwing your pants over your shoulder flippantly.

His back bows down, arms looping over your thighs locking you in place.

Licking his lips, he looks over your body like you're a meal. Your skin is flushed with wanting and your pussy begins to weep at the sight of him between your thighs.

"What do you want, sweetheart?" he asks rhetorically, just to hear the words fall from your lips.

You open your mouth to reply but it isn't fast enough for his liking, slapping the sensitive skin on your inner thigh. You mewl loudly, back bowing off the bed as you spread your legs wider.

"I want you to eat my pussy. It hurts," you whine, nestling your fingers in his hair.

He hums gently, watching your breath hitch in your throat. He gives you a smirk, one that sends your sex weeping more for him.

He rears his head back, his index and middle finger splaying open your lips with a V motion.

"Your little clit is so swollen, baby. You want me to touch you?" he teases and you nod enthusiastically as you grip his hair harder.

He groans softly at the feeling, his eyes on your breasts as he spits on your sodden cunt.

You shiver at the feeling, lips parting for air as he watches his spittle mix with your arousal.

"God, you're fucking soaked," his voice is that of wonder. You sink down into the bed as he licks a flat stripe up your swollen cunt.

Whimpering his name, your eyes flutter shut.

"Open your eyes. Watch me eat your pretty pussy so well," he commands.

With opening eyes, you moan loudly as he begins to ravage you. His tongue is so fast against your cunt, flicking and pressing into your swollen clit.

"H-Hobi! Fuck!" you cry out as your legs try to press to either side of his head.

His biceps ripple and strain as he holds you apart, suckling and flicking at your bundle of nerves. You find yourself babbling almost incoherently, begging for more as your hips raise.

"Filthy little thing," he whispers against your cunt, his hand leaves your thigh to finger at your tight entrance.

He teases you for what feels like an eternity before thrusting a finger inside of you.

"So tight," he sounds breathless, his cheeks and lips tainted with your arousal.

The sight is almost a visual overload, your hips buck and a loud whine emits from you as you look down at him.

Curling his finger up, he watches how blissed out you are before him. His cock strains against the fabric of his pajamas and he moans softly against your throbbing bud.

"Tell me how much you want my baby," he commands before spitting on your twitching sex.

You can feel your insides bubbling, your stomach flipping and feeling heavy within you as your orgasm approaches.

With a muddled mind and hoarse voice you reply, "S-So badly. Want to have your baby so badly, H-Hobi. I want to give you a baby."

Pleased with your answer, he slides a second finger into your heat. His fingers brush against the soft patch of nerves within you so fast, you feel the air escaping your lungs at a rapid pace.

"You beg to cum for me, sweetheart. Don't forget that. I own this pussy," he reminds you as he pinches your clit.

He watches your hips roll, he hears his name tumble out of your lips like a prayer and he knows just how close to release you are.

When you give him your pleasure, it's like art. So beautiful and so defined.

"Who does this pussy belong to?"

"Y-You! Only you!" you whine as your eyes squeeze shut.

You can feel the pleasure course through your bones. You can feel your mouth going dry as the bubble inside of you threatens to burst.

"Wanna cum! Please! So close!" you beg as you grip his hair harder.

He can feel your pussy clenching around his fingers rhythmically, begging to release.

"Hold it," he instructs as he pinches your clit once more.

Shaking your head, pleasurable tears spring to your eyes. "Want to cum so badly for you. Want to have my pussy open for your cock and cum."

He shivers at your words, tongue lapping at your arousal like a man starved.

"Hobi… Baby, please! I need to cum!" you beg your husband as he adds a third finger.

He watches your chest heave, your breasts thrust up to the sky with stiff peaked nipples that beg for attention. Was there anyone more gorgeous? He can't possibly think so.

"Cum," he commands and you fall back down to the bed.

You orgasm around his fingers, your moans echo off of the cabin walls as you call his name.

With spotty eyes and deaf ears, you can feel him pull out of you.

You feel drunk from pleasure, your head swimming. Hoseok wipes the tears off your cheeks, entering his cum soaked fingers into his mouth.

He moans at your taste, licking up every drop of arousal he can get.

"Shit, you taste so fucking good," he whispers.

Sitting up on your elbows, you focus on his crotch. His fingers hook into the sides of his pants before tugging them down roughly.

His cock slaps headily to his stomach and you lick your lips at the sight.

Long and thick, his cock stands erect. It's always a welcome sight to see. The way his rose veins pepper the length and the way his bulbous head is a needy shade of pink.

Your mouth waters as the seam of his cock begins to spurt more precum. You watch it traipse down lazily towards his balls with rapt fascination.

"Come here," he whispers softly, sitting back on the balls of his feet.

His hands palm your breasts, fingertips plucking at your nipples as you kiss over his chest.

He sighs so gently, almost in disbelief that you're still in front of him naked five years later.

"I can't wait till your tits swell with milk. I want to taste it," he sounds so hopeful, so absolutely enraptured in his dream.

As you lick over his abs, he takes in a sharp breath through his teeth. His eyes rolling back as he palms your breasts rougher.

"Y/N," he moans softly and you practically mewl at the sound.

You take his cock in hand, feeling it twitch with need. He groans loudly as you begin to pump along his shaft, feeling his velvety smooth skin quiver with wanting.

Hoseok grips your hair, making a make-shift ponytail for you before running his thumb over your cheekbone.

"I love you," his words are so sincere, dripping with ardent desire.

"I love you too," you reply.

Swirling your tongue around the head of his cock, you moan at the taste of his precum. You can feel his shudder above you, gripping your hair harder. Tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, he whimpers as you slide down his shaft.

Your cheeks hollow and your hand jerks whatever doesn't fit into your mouth, sending your husband above you murmuring your name incessantly.

"Oh shit. Just like that. Your mouth feels so fucking good. Christ," he cries out as you work assiduously on his cock.

His ragged breathing sends your loins unfurling once more, begging to be touched by the man you call your own.

"Can I fuck your pretty mouth? Please," you hum in agreement, eyes fluttering shut as he wraps his hand around your head.

The first thrust is gentle, trying to pry open your throat for him. You sputter gently on him, eyes welling up with tears as you grip his thighs.

"Fuck, you look so hot. I love fucking my cock into your mouth," his thumb brushes away a tear as it trails down your cheek.

His thrusts begin to get rougher, his moans become louder. Lapping your tongue along the base of him, you feel your heart swell every time he moans or curses above you.

"Wait until your belly gets nice and big. I'm gonna use you like a little cocksleeve. Bet you'd like that wouldn't you, sweetheart? Me gripping your belly while you take my cock deep into your throat," you moan around him, excited by the idea. The vibrations your moans shoot through him makes his cock twitch in the recesses of your mouth.

"Stop, sweetheart, stop." he instructs as he tugs your hair gently.

Pulling away from him, you raise an eyebrow.

"Was it not okay?" you ask softly.

He shushes you with his lips, arms coddling around you to lay you down.

"It was perfect. I'm saving my cum for your pussy."

Spreading your legs wider with his knees, he kisses you so passionately you think your heart might have stopped.

"Shit," he whispers against your lips.

Prodding the tip of his cock to your entrance, he simply loses himself in your presence.

How long and often he's adored you before you even knew. How lucky he is to have you now.

Entering you slowly, your mouth drops open at how completely full you feel. He grunts gently at the feeling of your velvet walls around him. He kisses you leisurely, taking his time to shower you in pleasure.

Drifting his hand over your womb, he moans your name.

"Fuck baby, look at how tight your pussy is. I can see how big my cock is," he says, drawing your attention to where you're met. You can see the outline of his cock clearly within you and it sets your loins ablaze.

He groans when your cunt throbs around him, "You're going to take my baby, aren't you, sweetheart? Get nice and pregnant for me?"

You nod incessantly as he sits up on his knees. Pulling almost all the way out of you, he slaps your clit with his fingers. Raising an eyebrow, he looks you in the eye.

"Words, sweetheart. You know this," he chides as you squirm on his cock.

"Y-Yes. I'm going to take your cum and get pregnant for you. Get really big with your baby."

Pleased with your words, he thrusts deep inside of you.

Your legs hook around his hips, moaning his name like a prayer as he begins an unrelenting pace.

"Fuck, you're so tight! Shit!" he cries out.

You can feel the emotional pull then, this sexual encounter has so much meaning. Making love to Hoseok was always special but the intent behind this experience is overwhelming.

"God, you're so incredible. Who does this pussy belong to?" he asks, punctuating each word with a harsh thrust.

Hooking your ankles over his shoulders, you preen loudly as each thrust hits the soft spot within you.

"You do! You own my pussy! It's all yours!" you cry out as you grip the bedsheets on either side of you.

"That's fucking right I do," he seethes through his teeth.

The sound of wild winds hitting the cabin walls is drowned out by the fiercely pornographic moaning and obscene squelching of your cunt getting fucked,

Your husband presses one hand to your womb, letting the full feeling of his cock inside overwhelm you, and the other situated at the apex of your thighs. He rubs quick, rough circles to your clit, adoring how high and short your moans are getting.

Your cunt flutters around him, sending his eyes rolling back once more as he fucks you faster.

"Beg for it," he reminds you, a breathy moan attached to the end as his head lolls back.

He knows you so well, he can practically sense what's next.

"P-Please!" you moan feebly, your knuckles go white as your pleasure courses through you.

"That's my good girl. Fuck, you look so pretty on my cock, sweetheart. You look so gorgeous when you're about to burst," you gasp gently, the bubble inside of you expanding to the point of popping.

"Hobi, pl-please!" you beg, letting go of the sheets to grab his arms.

"Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock, show me how badly you want my child," he concedes as his balls begin to tighten.

Your eyes scrunch closed as you orgasm the second time, you can faintly feel your arousal squirting onto his cock and thighs.

"Shit. That's so hot, good girl, sweetheart," he moans, letting up on his thrusts before pulling out.

You whine at the loss. Eyes opening, albeit they're heavy with drunken lust.

"Turn over for me," your husband whispers in your ear, staving off his oncoming orgasm by kissing and suckling the skin of your neck.

With a gentle sigh, you turn over for him. Perching your ass in the air, you bury your face into the pillow.

"God, I'm so fucking lucky," Hobi says as his fingertips drift over your swollen cunt.

Gripping your hips roughly, he pulls you back to his cock without another word.

Spanking your ass hard, you can barely let out a gasp as he sinks back into your heat.

He curses loudly, rubbing the now smarting skin on the globe of your ass.

He doesn't relent as he pulls you back onto his cock. His hand reaches from your ass to the back of your neck before he's gripping with fervent need.

"God, fuck!" he curses through his teeth.

You can only feebly whimper his name into the pillow.

"You're gonna cum again for me," he insists, snaking his hand around your thigh.

"No, Hobi. It's too much!" you cry out.

"You can take it, sweetheart," he whispers and you gasp gently at the feeling of his cock throbbing so quickly inside of you.

"I can't wait until your belly is nice and big. Let everyone know I fucked my baby into you. You're gonna look so fucking gorgeous with a big belly and those pretty milk filled tits," murmuring his name incessantly, you lift your head as he rubs circles on your clit.

Looking behind you, you take in the beauty that is your husband. A thin sheen of sweat is on his body, his sideburns and bangs are stuck to his face as he fucks you for all your worth.

His eyes meet yours and your pussy clenches around his cock at the sight. With half lidded eyes, he tucks his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Hobi," you whine, tears of pleasure filling your vision as he brings you closer to your third orgasm.

"That's it, sweetheart. Say my fucking name," his hand grips harder at the back of your neck.

"Come here," he groans out, lifting your body to press flush to his chest.

Pressing his hand softly to your throat, his thumb pushes your chin towards him. Kissing you fast and rough, he groans into your mouth.

"Cum," he commands and you fall apart as his will.

His arms encircle you, keeping you upright as he fucks into you.

"Oh, baby. I'm cumming! Fuck! I'm cumming! Take it deep. Give me a baby," you hear him moan loudly in your ear. He presses his forehead to your temple, his thrusts becoming erratic and slow.

He whispers your name once more before he stills within you, finally.

You can feel the warmth of his cum rush into you as he fucks rope after rope inside.

"Oh my God," he grumbles breathlessly.

He pulls you down with him onto the bed and you can't keep yourself from giggling as he holds you so tight.

The sound of the wind is the only thing that draws both of you back to reality.

"I hope we get pregnant," he whispers into your neck.

Humming in agreement, you look out the window as snow continues to fall.

"Me too," you reply truthfully.

His fingers trace undefinable shapes on your stomach as he kisses your shoulder.

"As nice as this is maybe next year we should just go to my parents," he says with a chuckle.

Laughing along with him, you turn your body.

"Maybe that would be best," you say, jutting your thumb towards the snow covered window.

"But, hopefully we'll have a baby to bring with us next year," you can hear the hopefulness in his tone.

You can see his excitement in his tired eyes.

Christmas with Hoseok really isn't so bad.

Snowed In Taglist- @sunkissed725​

[freddie-weaselbee]

Grade A Business//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Brief semi-nudity, slight language, two suggestive comments, y/n drools on fred but like in a cute way

Summary: As one businessman makes a trip across the ocean to talk to new investors, he meets his new partner, someone a lot more familiar than he was expecting. 

Prompts: Only One Bed with dialogue prompts “if we get caught, I’m blaming you” and “I don't want to be alone”

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Day 2 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge

  Fred had never gotten used to traveling on Muggle airplanes. He never had a need to before, not with everything being a train ride, floo network, or apparition away. But as he and George progressed into adulthood, and the businessman life no less, they found themselves constantly on the move and needing a fast and easy way to travel without drawing suspicion. Except for the one time that Fred’s magical briefcase set off every airport security system imaginable, but he’d learned from that mistake. 

He was relieved to be exiting the JFK airport in New York City, clutching his luggage and thanking Merlin that his feet could now touch solid ground. Being in one of those huge steel contraptions was nothing like flying in a broom. He had no control over anything and it drove him absolutely insane. Luckily, he was safe now, and one step closer to being done with this awful business trip. 

At the beginning of their business endeavors, Fred and George would travel together, trying to pick up business at other locations for Weasleys’ Wizards Wheezes. But as the shop grew and the locations became more and more foreign (so far having shops in Paris, Cairo, and Madrid) the brothers realized that the operations would have to be solo missions to allow for the other to run the shop for longer periods of time. Usually Fred didn’t mind taking the trips by himself. In fact, he rather enjoyed the alone time and flexibility in schedule. But this meeting was supposed to be a big one, and he was feeling quite nervous about having to tackle it himself. 

Big investors located in the states were meeting with him to discuss opening a joint operation in New York City, combining his shop with another renowned wizard business that they deemed would be most profitable. Fred groaned internally just thinking about it. He didn’t want to have to share this new shop with anyone, no matter what the new investors thought. What if the other co-owner was a horrible person? Or worse, what if they had no sense of humor? They’d ruin the Weasley reputation and make it some boring book store. Or puzzle shop? Honestly Fred didn’t know much about the other business, just that he already didn’t like it. 

Hailing a cab, a trick his sister-in-law Hermione had shown him years ago, Fred lugged all of his prototypes--skillfully hidden from Muggle eyes and detection systems by layers of spells--into the trunk before hopping in, giving the address of the hotel the investors had booked for him. He was about to shut the door when a panting scream startled him enough to make him stop. 

“Wait! Hold the cab!”

Doing as he was told, Fred kept the door open and allowed the stranger to climb in, suitcase and all. 

“Thanks,” you said, Fred noting your distinct British accent and strikingly familiar features. “I really need to get to my hotel, I appreciate it--”

“Y/N?”

Shocked, you finally looked at your ride partner’s face for the first time. Soft brown eyes. Freckled face. Bright ginger hair. 

“Fred?! Fred Weasley?” You knew for a fact you weren’t mistaken, this was definitely the Fred you remembered. Or maybe it could have been George? It had been so long since you had seen either of them. Since Hogwarts, in fact. 

Luckily, Fred nodded, confirming your belief that this was the older Weasley twin and saving yourself from heaps of embarrassment. “Y/N L/N, what are you doing here?”

Fred and you both wore matching grins, stretching from ear to ear. What an insane coincidence. What were the chances that you two would be in the same cab, in the same city, in the same foreign country?

“I’m actually here for business,” you said. “After Hogwarts I opened my own shop--”

“Excuse me,” the cab driver interrupted, wasting no time with politeness nor formalities. “But I have cars lined up behind me and I don’t know where you wanna go little lady. So let’s get on with it, if you will.”

“Oh, yeah of course. It’s, umm, oh shit which hotel was it? It’s on 53rd and 10th, I know that…” You trailed off, trying to remember what your hotel was called. You dug around in your purse, hoping to find a piece of paper with the name on it. “I think it was called--”

“Lotus Hotel.”

It was Fred who had interrupted you, once again, and once again you were just as bewildered as before.

“That’s right,” you said after a few seconds of confused silence. “Yes, yes the Lotus Hotel please,” you told the driver with confidence. Turning back to Fred you tried in earnest to understand what was happening. 

“So same location?” the driver asked, to which Fred confirmed before you were speeding off down the crowded streets of the city. 

“Oh, I get it,” you said in understanding. “Same hotel as me?”

“That is correct, love. What are the odds?” He wiggled his eyebrows in a half suggestive half just plain goofy manner, awkwardly shuffling so that his long legs had room amongst your many bags. 

“That is quite a coincidence,” you agreed. “Funny thing is, I didn’t even choose the location. I have a business meeting in the morning with possible investors and they set everything up for the stay.”

Fred’s mouth practically dropped open at what you had said. “You’re kidding. These investors don’t happen to be Robbie Goldstein and Rachel McMillan, do they?”

“Ok, you need to stop doing that,” you said, officially freaked. “That’s the third time you’ve predicted something and it’s starting to creep me out. You never were very good at legilimency.”

He hushed you quickly, hoping the cab driver hadn’t caught onto the magical term you just used. Thankfully, he was too focused on the roads to notice. 

“Ok, Y/N, one last question.”

“And then you’ll explain how you know all this?”

Fred ignored your question and continued with his own. “You said you opened a business. Are you perhaps meeting with another business owner to discuss a collaboration on a new store opening in the city?”

“Yes!” you said, eager to know how Fred could have known that. Was this another one of his pranks? Did he have hidden cameras in the cab somewhere? “How do you know all this?”

He only laughed, a joyous and very relieved grin overtaking his face. Sticking out his right hand, he grabbed yours and shook it eagerly. “Well, Miss L/N, it’s a pleasure to be reacquainted. I’m Frederick Weasley, your new potential partner.”

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

“You know, you haven’t changed a bit.”

“Oh thank Godric, I was worried you’d think I was grown up and mature now.”

You laughed heartily as you dragged your bags out of the cab, thanking the driver before he grunted annoyedly and drove off. Your drive from the airport had gone faster than expected, mostly due to the fact that you and Fred had so much to catch up on. 

After he and George had left Hogwarts in their grand exit, they’d created the shop they’d always dreamed of, parking it right in the middle of Diagon Alley. You, on the other hand, went about creating your success in a much more conventional way. After finishing your last year of school, you started working full time at Zonko’s at Hogsmeade, trying to save up enough money to start your own business. 

Many long hours and tiring days later, you opened up your little place, a toy store and puzzle shop. It was a similar setup to what the Weasleys did, but as you described it, “my toys don’t blow up in the user's face.”

You were now very excited for tomorrow’s meeting, the one you had been dreading beforehand. Your business was much smaller than Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes and this would be your first international location. You were afraid that the owner you would be forced to work with would be some stuck up rich big whig who wouldn’t allow you to keep any of your small business charm in the new location. But learning that you would be working with Fred, well that was a relief for many reasons. 

Fred rang the hotel desk bell, chatting happily about ideas for the shared shop and new products that fit with what both of you wanted to do. 

“Hello there,” said the hotel receptionist, coming around the corner. “What can I do for you today?”

“Two night stay for Frederick Weasley,” said Fred. “Should’ve been booked by Robbie Goldstein.”

The young man typed quickly into his computer before offering Fred a hotel key card. “Here you are Mr. Weasley, room 504. We serve complimentary breakfast from 6 to 9 every morning down in our west hall. If you need anything don’t be afraid to call down and we’ll assist you in any way we can.”

Fred nodded at the man. “Thank you, I appreciate it.” He turned to leave before you grabbed his shirt sleeve and pulled him back. 

“Wait for me,” you said. “I’m not finished talking to you yet.”

Fred smiled and waited behind you as you took your turn at the desk. 

“Y/N L/N, also booked by Robbie Goldstein.” 

He clicked away again but paused for a few seconds, seemingly confused. “You said Y/N L/N?”

Starting to get nervous, you nodded. “Yes, that’s me. Is the reservation not there?” You didn’t want to think about having to find somewhere else to stay, especially because it was getting so late. 

“Oh no,” the man replied. “It’s here all right.” Ignoring the confused looks you and Fred were giving each other, the receptionist handed you a hotel key card and gestured to the elevator. “Thank you for choosing to stay with us. You’ll be staying for two nights in room 504. Don’t forget to enjoy our complimentary breakfast from 6--”

“I’m sorry,” Fred interrupted. “But that’s my room. You did say 504, right?”

“Yes sir,” he replied, not bothering to try to understand the predicament. “Mr. Goldstein booked one room for the both of you.”

Your eyes widened and you looked at Fred, silently asking him to help you figure this out. But instead, Fred just broke out laughing, having to brace himself on the front desk. 

“I guess that’s what you expect when you let two investors who specialize in pranking shops make the room accommodations.”

“This isn’t funny Fred,” you said, although you had to give Robbie and Rachel credit for this joke. Turning to the receptionist, you sighed and ran your hands through your hair. “There’s at least two separate beds, right?”

He glanced down at his computer screen before looking back up at you with a guilty smile. “Well, about that…”

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

“Alright, I’ll take the couch, I’m sure it’s a pullout, it has to be.”

Fred stood in the doorway watching you mumble mostly to yourself. As tired as he was and as much as he wanted to just lie down and sleep, somehow watching you freak out about the sleeping arrangements was a much better use of his time. 

He watched as you threw the pillows and cushions off of the couch and felt around for a lever, something, anything that would allow you a place to rest. Your face lit up as you felt a small impression and yanked with all your might, only causing you to thump backwards onto your butt on the hotel room floor. 

Kicking off his shoes, Fred jumped onto the bed, sighing as he let his body relax. “Come on in darling, there’s plenty of room for the both of us.”

He opened one eye slightly, just enough to see your reaction. You were trying again to make the couch open, although you both knew that it wasn’t a pullout. Nevertheless, you kept pulling at every spot you thought could make a difference. 

It reminded Fred of the good old days, back at Hogwarts when you two were so close. You were always so stubborn, and he didn’t realize just how much he had missed having you in his life. He always wondered what happened to you after he and George left, but with the shop opening up and the war around the corner, he never had the thought to write you or track you down. He hoped this time after you two parted ways you would still remain in touch. 

You groaned loudly, slapping the couch with one of the pillows you had thrown earlier. Nothing was going as planned and you couldn’t be more annoyed. 

“Fine,” you huffed. “I’ll just sleep on the couch, no need for a pullout.” You stomped over to the bed and angrily pulled the blanket from off of him. 

“Hey!” he shouted, trying to grab it back but you were too quick. “That’s not fair, it’s cold!”

“If you get the bed,” you said, wrapping yourself up, “then I get to stay warm. Now go to sleep, I’ll see you in the morning.”

He couldn’t help but giggle at the small bundle of you wrapped up in the hotel quilt, looking like an angry little burrito. Standing, he unbuttoned his shirt and threw it in the corner, followed next by his undershirt before he unbuckled his belt. He turned to face you slowly, feeling your eyes on him as they peeked out of your wrapping. 

You quickly turned your gaze and glared at the floor. “What are you doing?” you said, hoping Fred didn’t see the blush rising to your cheeks. He did. 

He continued to undress, leaving him only in a pair of red boxers that left little to the imagination. “Going to bed, as you said,” he replied nonchalantly. He grabbed a toothbrush from his suitcase and made his way to the bathroom, making sure to walk extra slowly and give you a longer show. 

“This is so unprofessional!” you yelled after him. 

“We’re not business partners until tomorrow, love,” Fred said with a mouthful of toothpaste. “As far as I see it we can do anything we want tonight.”

Rolling your eyes, you shed the large blanket and grabbed an oversized t-shirt from your bag, hoping you’d be able to change before Fred finished in the bathroom. As he emerged, he saw the tail end of you throwing the shirt on, flashing your thighs and part of your panties for half a second. He averted his eyes out of respect, but that didn’t stop his imagination from running away with what he just saw. 

You shuffled past him, taking your turn in the bathroom. How in the world had this happened? How had a nice catch-up with a friend turned into an awkward back and forth the night before the most important business meeting of your life?

All you wanted to do was fall asleep, go through with whatever tomorrow brought you, and pretend like this never happened. But as you came out of the bathroom, you saw that Fred had taken the blanket back, leaving you with nothing except your t-shirt and an uncomfortable couch. 

“Fred, let me have it,” you said, trying to yank it from his grip. 

“No,” he mumbled, voice muffled by one of the many pillows he was cuddled with. 

“Frederick Gideon Weasley, give me the blanket now or so help me…”

Instead of responding, he just reached out and patted you on the top of your head before rolling over and pretending to snore. He was infuriating. 

You sulked back to the couch, accepting your defeat. You pulled out all of the clothes in your bag, hoping they could form as some sort of makeshift blanket. But after a few minutes of shivering and curling into the smallest ball possible, you realized that you’d never manage to sleep like this. Fred was staring at you, partially amused and partially concerned. You looked away. 

“You can always share with me, you know,” he said, patting the bed next to him. 

You scoffed and turned away. “Like I said, Fred, we’re soon-to-be business partners. Imagine how that would look! I’m fine right here, thank you.”

After a few seconds of silence you snuck another look at him. He hadn’t moved an inch, and was instead looking more concerned than before. “You’re going to freeze to death over there.”

“Well maybe that’s because someone stole my blanket.”

“The blanket comes with the bed, and the bed comes with me. Take it or leave it.”

It took everything in you not to scream. You wanted that warm, soft, comfortable bed more than anything at the moment. You needed it. Oh but it would send such a bad message if anyone ever found out…

“If we get caught I’m blaming you,” you relented, trudging over to the bed and crawling underneath the covers, ripping the blanket from a very amused Fred. 

“Who’s gonna catch us, Robbie and Rachel? They’re the ones that set this up! Trust me, nothing’s going to happen.” 

“It better not,” you said. “And make sure you stay on your side of the bed, I mean it! No touching.”

“Oh come on, Y/N,” Fred said, rolling slightly closer to you. “You act as if we’ve never done this before. We’ve slept with each other dozens of times.”

Your face went red at his words, wishing he would have phrased it a different way. 

“You know what I mean,” he said quickly, hearing how his words came across. “But the amount of times we’ve cuddled up in the Gryffindor common room or up stargazing in the astronomy tower. It’s just me, there’s nothing to be scared of.”

“We were also 17 and a lot closer back then,” you retorted, remembering the fond memories you had from your high school days. 

Fred huffed and returned to his side. “I’m not saying we weren’t. I just wish you weren’t acting so different now. It’s like we’re barely friends anymore…” His voice drifted off, wishing that he could go back and change the past. It had been 8 years since he last saw you. 8 whole years. Maybe things would’ve been different if he had tried to stay in touch. You’d never even visited his shop in those 8 years, never seen everything he was so proud of. He was stupid to think that one reunion was going to bring back a friendship that was practically already dead. He was even more stupid to think that maybe, just maybe, fate was giving him one last chance to shoot his shot, close to a decade later. What a right idiot he was. 

On the other side of the bed, less than a meter away, similar thoughts raced through your mind. 8 years. Why hadn’t you, in 8 years, made one trip to visit their shop. Sure, there was a war going on and you were busy starting your own shop, but things had been fairly calm the last few years. Why had you never reached out? Almost subconsciously, you reached out physically for Fred. Your hand brushed up against his back before you tensed and drew back. You both stilled for a few moments, before Fred rolled over, facing you. 

The two of you just stared at each other, both playing mental images of what your lives could have looked like the last 8 years if just one of you had done something. 

“You’re not seeing anyone, are you?” Fred asked, breaking the silence. You shook your head. He moved closer. 

“Are you?” you asked. He shook his head. You moved closer. 

Your faces were now about a foot apart. You moved your hand to rest it between your face and the pillow. Fred copied your actions. You laughed softly, the movement causing a strand of hair to fall into your face. 

Fred reached his hand out to move it before hesitating. “Can I?” His voice was so soft, so full of care. His hand hesitated in the air for a second before you nodded. He brushed the strands behind your ear, fingertips so gentle that you got chills up and down your spine. He let his hand linger before it moved to cup your face. “I’ve missed you.”

You smiled and leaned into his touch. “I’ve missed you too, Freddie.”

His hand left your face and moved down to your waist, eyes not leaving yours in case you ever grew uncomfortable. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer to him just like you used to do all those years ago. You buried your face in the crook of his neck and hummed contently, before both of you slowly drifted off to sleep. 

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

“Freddie, Y/N! How are ya!”

Robbie Goldstein, a plump man with fading hair ran up to greet you and Fred in the lobby of his and his partner’s office, shaking both of your hands fervently. 

“Hey Robbie,” said Fred, slapping the man on the back. “I’m glad to be here.”

“Same with me,” you said, glad you could finally meet the man with whom you’d been discussing business through letters in person. 

Robbie looked between the two of you, sly grin on his face. “Ah, so I see you’ve already met them. Wouldn’t happen to be because of a little mishap at the hotel last night, would it?”

You groaned internally, hating that someone else knew about the previous night, but Fred only laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 

“A great prank, I must admit, but Y/N and I actually go way back. I’ve known her since I was 11 years old, so nice try. I couldn’t imagine how that would’ve gone if we were complete strangers.”

Robbie’s face fell a little before he shrugged and nodded his head in defeat. “Well, what are the odds of that?”

“Astronomical,” you said, giving Fred a subtle tap with your foot. 

Robbie gestured for the two of you to follow him into the conference room where discussions about the new business would commence. “Well, I’m glad that you two seem to get along then, this is going to make things a lot easier. Oh, and don’t worry about arrangements tonight, I’ve decided not to let my joke stretch on and I booked another room for one of you for your last night in town.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, one that didn’t go unnoticed by Fred, and stepped into the conference room. “Thanks Robbie, that makes things a lot easier.”

“Yeah,” said Fred hesitantly, “thanks for that.”

He shut the door behind you and straightened up. There was no place for personal feelings in this business negotiation. He needed to do what was best for his company and yours, no distractions. No thoughts of crushed hope that suddenly plagued his mind. 

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

Fred hated the bed he was sleeping on. Granted, it was the same bed as the night before, but this time it felt different. It felt like it was mocking him. You had been the one to offer to change rooms and it seemed like you couldn’t wait to get out of there and to your own bedroom, free of any Weasleys. It made Fred sick to think about. 

He had just gotten used to the idea of something happening between the two of you. Last night, it all seemed perfect. You had cuddled the same way you had before, talked like nothing had changed. Hell, he even woke up with you lying sprawled out on top of him, a little trickle of drool falling onto his chest. He didn’t mind. 

But now, everything that happened the night before seemed like a dream. 

Fred knew he’d at least get to see you sporadically from now on. Your business negotiations with Robbie and Rachel went great, and the two of you, three counting George, were going to be combining forces and opening a joke and toy shop in the city sometime within the next year. It went exactly how Fred had wanted it to go, and yet so horribly wrong at the same time. 

He didn’t want to only interact with you as a business partner and casual friend. He wanted so much more than you were willing to give him, and having to see you and write you and work with you was going to be torture for him. He buried his face in the pillows, gripping the large blanket to his chest, wishing it was you instead. Stupid Robbie and his stupid pranks and stupid business and--

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Fred lifted his head to check the clock. It was 2 in the morning. Who in the world would be knocking this late at night? Fred slowly got out of bed, too tired to bother putting anything more decent on. He looked through the peephole of the door but his eyes were too blurry to make anything out. Groaning, he unlocked the door and pulled it open. 

Standing in front of him, clothed in the oversized t-shirt from last night and a pair of booty shorts, was you, looking nervous and embarrassed. Fred hadn’t noticed the previous day, but the shirt you had been wearing was one of his old Quidditch practice jerseys, all beat up and way too huge on you. He remembered the day he gave that to you, or rather when you stole it from him because you complained about it being too cold. Fred had to hold back a laugh at the irony. 

“I, umm,” you started, not knowing what to say to him. How were you supposed to explain that you missed him so much that spending one night away from him was too much for you to bear? How last night had been the best sleep you had in years because of how content and at peace he made you feel. How could you convey all of your feelings to him at this very moment?

“I don’t want to be alone.”

Fred wasted no time in picking you up, laughing as you screamed and kicked your legs around. “Fred Weasley, you put me down!”

He did as he was told and threw you onto the bed before jumping, arms and legs spread out, and landing straight on top of you. “I’m so glad you're here,” he said, peppering your cheeks with kisses. He pushed himself up, scanning your face to make sure what he did was ok, but you grabbed his face in your cheeks and pulled him down into a long kiss. Fred smiled through the kiss, almost laughing at how everything was working out. Maybe fate did have something to do with it after all. 

Fred pulled away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. “So,” he said, mischief glinting in his eyes, “how about we put this bed to good use?”

Tag List: @famdomhideout​ @amourtentiaa​

[okskz]

Chan’s Room. (pt.2)

Mia + Chan

chan invites mia back on his weekly vlives.

here’s for the anon who requested mia on chan’s room! hope you guys enjoy and please feel free to leave some feedback because it is always appreciated!

italics = english

[9th Member of Stray Kids]

“Today we have a special guest with us today. You guys have been mentioning this person for quite awhile now. And well I listened!” Chan chuckled to himself at the last part.

He looked over at Mia, smiling wide as he motioned for her to come over. She jumped into view right behind Chan and yelled out, “surprise!” wrapping her arms around Chan from behind after. “I’m back.” She laughed to herself before taking a seat right next to him.

“Yes, our lovely, Mia is back everyone.” Chan wrapped his arms around Mia’s head, bringing her in close as he began to ruffle her hair too. “Everyone has been wanting you to be in Chan’s room again.”

“How nice.” Mia giggled. “I think the last time I was here was your first year doing this?”

“Oh, so its been quite a while since you’ve been on here.”

“Yeah! Only because you failed to invite me back!” Mia turned to face the camera. “Everyone, Channie doesn’t want me on here.”

Chan let out a laugh. “Hey, untrue!” He smiled. “You just happen to always be busy, or sleeping.”

“I like to sleep.” She nodded.

Mia went closer towards the device to read some of the comments with Chan. It was a mixture of a lot of things, majority were just happy to see Mia back on Chan’s room. “Hi, everyone.” She giggled. “Mia we missed you. Oh! I missed you guys as well. Time to make this Mia’s Room.”

“Definitely not happening.”

“Shoutout to Texas, hi, Mia.” The girl gasped when reading the comment. “Texas! I miss Texas, hello to you guys!”

After a couple of more minutes of reading comments and talking to Chan, it was now time to start playing some music. And of course, Chan let Mia choose the first song to play. “You have a song in mind?” He questioned her. Mia quickly nodded her head, typing away on the keyboard to search for the song, picking Telepatía by Kali Uchis to play.

“This song has been one of my top songs I have been playing.” Mia smiled. “It has a good vibe to it. Especially when I’m listening to it while laying in bed.”

“This is a really good song, a recommendation for our Stays.”

Mia nodded her head as she smiled, Chan lowering the volume on the music.

***

“Who has been caring or looking over for you these days?” Chan questioned. They were now in the middle of conversation, taking a small break from the music.

Mia thought for a moment. “Well, all of you guys seem to always look after me in different situations, but Jisungie has been the main one.” She nodded. “Yeah, these days its been Jisung.”

“Every time he wants to go out to like the stores or to go eat, he always asks me first.”

“I’ve noticed that too.” Chan softly chuckled. “You two are always hanging out together.”

“Yes!” Mia smiled. “We always like to be with Flash. And for those who don’t know, Jisung and I have a pet guinea pig named Flash.”

“Such a cute little fella.”

“Very. I can’t believe we’ve had him for so long now. Who knew a little fur ball could bring me such joy.” She grinned.

“What made you get a guinea pig instead of a dog or something?”

Mia shrugged her shoulders. “I thought a dog in the dorms wouldn’t work out maybe, and it would be a huge responsibility. I mean a guinea pig is too but it seems a lot easier. Plus when I saw him I fell in love and needed to take him home with us.”

“He’s so tiny and cute.” Mia giggled.

Chan laughed a little as he stared at the comments. One in particular catching his eye. “Mia share a TMI.” He looked back at her, Mia raising a brow.

“TMI?” She questioned. She began to think of some things she could possibly share about herself.

“Although our Stay knows you, there’s still some things they may not know about you. You’re never one to share anything personal. Even I still learn new things about you.” Chan laughed at himself on the last sentence.

“Well I can share that I have known Minho way before debut.”

Chan snapped his finger. “Oh yeah, I remember you mentioning that. How was that? Where did you guys meet?”

Mia cleared her throat. “Storytime.” She wheezed. “Um, it was back when I had entered World of Dance Korea. Dancing has been something I’ve always been passionate about so when I saw they were wanting new dancers I decided to join. Minho had already been there before me. So I was a newbie basically.”

Chan nodded his head as he listened to Mia’s story. “Did you know the language at the time? Or were you learning Korean?”

“It was between I was learning and knowing? I guess you can say. But anyways, I remember Minho being in dance crew and I was just a soloist dancer so when it came time to perform I did a solo performance. And right when I walked off the stage, Minho approached me first and was like “wow! you really did amazing up there, are you new?””

Mia stopped letting out a small chuckle. “But then he realized I was a foreigner so began stuttering and was like “you” and then pointed at me saying “good.” With a thumbs up.” She laughed. “But he was relieved when I began speaking to him in Korean. So it all worked out in the end.”

“Did you guys see each other again after that?l

“Si, (yes).” Mia nodded. “We ended up going to the same dance studio so we saw each a lot often. He was kinda happy to see me again. And after that we became really good friends and well now we’re here. Crazy to think about really.”

“Yeah, who would of thought you guys would end up in the same group together.”

“Exactly.”

***

“We have a lot of fun stories of our predebut.”

Mia nodded her head at Chan. “Yeah, we did.”

Chan began laughing. “You and Changbin really disliked each other at the time. But not just you two, I feel like almost all of us got into arguments and such.”

Mia laughed hysterically at the thought. “Oh yeah, let me tell you about the time it was me, Changbin, Felix and Jisung.” Mia thought some more. “And Seungmin! We all went to an arcade and there was a laser tag section and the boys thought it was a good idea to put Changbin and I in one team and the rest were in their team.”

“I like where this is going.”

“Long story short I had tripped on something so obviously I fell and Changbin was right behind me-“

“Did he fall on top of you?”

“No. Even worse, Jisung was coming up to me and since I’m on the ground he thought it was a perfect opportunity to shoot at me but, Changbin literally grabbed my leg and dragged me away from Jisung. We were losing so Changbin didn’t want Jisung to get me.”

Chan let out a loud laugh, beginning to laugh hysterically. “Wait, wait. So he literally dragged you on the floor?”

“Yes!” Mia exclaimed, she started laughing when seeing Chan bounce in his seat and clapping. “He literally dragged me across that floor until we were in a hiding spot.”

“Did anyone see you two?”

“Oh my god yes. These group of people saw us and kept laughing.” Mia giggled. “And after, Jisung was telling the others and it was just a whole mess.” She shook her head. “We lost either way.”

Chan began laughing harder than usual at Mia’s predebut story, holding onto his stomach as he did so. “Remember that one time you fell off the bunk bed?”

Mia looked at Chan confused but burst into laughter once she remembered what he was talking about. “Oh yeah!” She exclaimed. “It was in the middle of the night and I had to use the bathroom but I was half asleep. So then I thought I was already at the bottom when in reality I was only halfway there so I jumped off and well... it wasn’t a pretty ending.”

The two began laughing out loud hysterically at the story. There was just too many stories to tell from their predebut. It was definitely all fun for the most part.

***

It was getting towards the end of Chan’s room when Chan was in the middle of playing one more song of Mia’s choice. The girl had chosen LMLY by Jackson Wang. “When I first heard this song, I instantly fell in love. It’s so catchy and good. Jackson really did a great job with it. I always love his music.”

“Very enjoyable to listen to, this song is great.” Chan nodded while lowering the volume on the music. He smiled as he looked at the comments, knowing what they wanted since he was going to end the live soon.

“Have you seen my rooms lately?” He questioned Mia

“Some, I saw last week’s with Jisungie and Changbin.”

“So you know what I do in the end?” He smiled while Mia nodded. “We have to give our Stays a hug.”

Mia began grinning as Chan talked. “Today you guys will be getting a hug not only from me but also from Mia.” He looked back at the girl. “First time hug from Mia!” Chan exclaimed. “You wanna do the honors and hug first?”

“Sure!” Mia stood up quickly going in to give a hug like Chan always does. She began giggling when she sat back down. “That was nice, hope you guys liked my hug.”

“A big hug from Mia and now a big hug from me.” Chan said, going in for a hug as well. He sat back down, “hope you guys enjoyed today’s live and getting to see Mia again, she will be back again, hopefully?”

“You know it!”

The two said their goodbyes before Chan ended the live completely. “Thank you for coming.” He looked back at Mia, seeing she was a bit spaced out. “Mia?”

“I just thought of something.”

“What is it?”

Mia couldn’t help but let out a small snort. “I basically put my whole boobs in front of everyone’s faces with that hug.”

[multifandomhoodies]

Finnpoe Rec List!

There’s some really fantastic Finnpoe fics out there and I’ve been setting aside fics from my bookmarks for this for a while! These are just some of my faves, so enjoy!! 

Canon/Canon Adjacent (not AUs outside general Star Wars universe) 

“how to become the spark” by sassy_ninja (G - 49.7k

Poe Dameron, commander of the Resistance fleet, best pilot in the galaxy, hotshot trigger-happy flyboy, he's all of these things plus a little bit more. This is the story Poe Dameron, shy farmboy, doting son, idiot gay, soldier who tries his best not to be broken by the war roaring around him and most of all just a human in a galaxy which doesn't care about things like love, friendship and fear. This is how he breaks and how he begins to heal again and how he starts to learn what it means to be alive. Or Poe Dameron's life from his childhood to the end of the war.

“bathed in blue light” by delgay (M - 17.4k)

When Finn turns to his right, Poe stands beside him, looking up at Finn and giving him what might be a smirk if he weren’t too busy smiling. It’s that same smile that’s made home on his face ever since Finn said, “I’d like to see Yavin IV. If I’d be welcome.” Poe had blinked fast, but the smile came slow. “Buddy,” he’d replied, “I’m offended that you even had to ask.”

A year after the Battle of Exegol, Finn and Poe visit Yavin IV. While there, Finn struggles with the Force and his complicated relationship with Poe.

“we slept with our backs against the weather” by bogpersons (T - 8.4k)

Poe’s breaths come in stops and starts, and wheezes on the inhale and exhale. He sounds like a dying man. Finn lifts Poe’s hand to his lips, presses it there, squeezes his eye shut. Something harsh and painful swells in his chest, finds a place under his heart and pushes and pushes and pushes until Finn can barely breathe with it. You are a Human Person. Finn and Poe crash on a jungle planet. Finn struggles with himself.

“We Stan A Healthy Family Dynamic (The Kes Verse)” by AphroditesTummyRolls SERIES (Not rated, 161.7k)

Get in losers, we're giving the Star Wars Sequel cast the story they deserved-- Particularly Poe and Finn.

[Set after the events of TFA, rewrites of TLJ and neat little bits in-between. Poe deals with the aftermath Kylo Ren’s interrogation, dealing with regret and trauma, with the help of his friends and dad through a rewrite of TLJ.]

“your love will be safe with me” by incalyscent (T - 8.6k)

when finn stripped away the violence from himself, what did he have left? it was love; love; love.

“i’m yours (and suddenly you’re mine) by spacepilotprince (E - 4.3k)

Finn snorts against Poe's stomach, and it forces a ticklish laugh out of him. “Laying it on a little thick tonight, aren't you?” Finn asks as he looks up at Poe, and finds that grin he heard in his voice.

“Not the only thing that's thick,” Poe says with a smirk, glancing down between them towards Finn's cock.

“Oh, shut up,” Finn laughs, surging up to kiss him, muffling Poe's laughter. Poe runs his hands over Finn's shoulders and tips his head aside, sending Finn's mouth down his jaw and neck.

“Contact” by earthmylikeness (M - 9.9k)

Because what could Finn do but live through it? Live in the remains of his own shipwrecked mind, his badly-crossed wires. Imagine Poe’s perpetually bitten mouth on him - his wide, calloused hands on his bare chest, pulling him down and down whenever he so much as closes his eyes. 

Finn has a delayed reaction to surviving the crash.

“Best Laid Efforts” by cosmicocean (T - 3.7k) @cosmicoceanfic

In which Jessika and Temmin do their best, aren't even subtle about it, and Poe and Finn are still morons.

“Ad Pacem” by SteveTrevorsStarship (T - 1.5k) 

Finn knows war and rebellion so far. He doesn’t know peace. (Yet.)

“First Comes the Night” by coffeeinallcaps (E - 20.1k)

He doesn’t get nightmares. He doesn’t dream about the mask, the cries of the villagers, waking up in the desert with a blinding headache and his mouth filled with blood and the man who’d saved him gone, most likely dead. Instead, he just can’t sleep.

“have you heard” by peradi (Not rated, 42.1k)

"I heard FN-2187 was a Stormtrooper." 

Finn sparks a revolution.

“Doubt” by Cadoan (T - 1.4k) 

After the battle of Crait, something has changed in Poe. Poe can't sleep, and Finn goes to find him.

“Neither Here Nor There” by d8rkmessengr (T - 7.8k)

Sometimes, it felt like he wasn't really here. Sometimes, it felt like it wasn't really over. And the one person who tethered him left to finally tell Rey something. Post The Rise of Skywalker.

“How to Be a Finn” by Ayashiki (G - 111k)

In a hindsight, all of it - the stolen childhood, the crash on Jakku, Han Solo's death, even the lightsaber to the back - was easier than living in this world of invisible social clues and inside jokes, the whirlwind of this ragtag family that defied any logic, the caring, the compassion, the love. And all the while people tell him: Finn, you are so brave! Finn, you are so strong! Finn, you are so kind! Finn, thank you for saving my life! And FN-2187 looks to the stars and desperately tries to find this "Finn" everyone seems to know in himself.

“On the Other Side” by StarMaple (T - 27.2k)

Finn discovers the differences first hand between the First Order and the Resistance and establishes a space for himself on D'Qar.

“we are all stardust” by synergenic (Losseflame) (Not rated, 15.3k)

Finn wakes up. He wakes up slow, the rising tide of consciousness making him aware, firstly, of how stale his mouth tastes. Then it's the general stiffness of his body, the foreign feeling of a pillow beneath his head, the softness of the clothes he's wearing. Finn doesn't think he's ever worn clothes so soft.

“No Sleep till Brooklyn” by TheCarrot (T first chapter, second chapter E, - 10.4k)

Poe is exhausted. And not just because he hasn’t slept for more than three hours at a time in Force knows how long. Moreover it’s the 39 flights he’s run in the last 22 days and the fact Pava had gotten deathlike sick eight days ago and then they had fallen behind on a few supply runs and an emergency evacuations of some of their pathfinders and then there had been a last minute scramble to one of their allies in the mid rim with far too many TIEs to be comfortable and then- well, Poe just wants to fall over onto the floor and stay there.

AUs

“Time of the Underdog” by beeeawolf, SERIES. (G & T, 56k)

Modern times AU, Poe is a former Navy pilot who was discharged after a crash and being a POW. Finn is a university student who manages to catch Poe’s run away dog, BB-8, who’s literally everything to him.

“We Didn’t Start the Fire” by MayGlenn and cognomen (E - 10.7k)

There’s a calm that claims them all when they’re working and it’s going the way it’s supposed to; the low-level hum of concentration and focus and adrenaline that keeps them on edge without panic. The crew deploys from Idaho, a home base that they see perhaps 3 weeks out of the entire 26 week fire season, interspersed with time in camps and housing all over the country. This week, it’s California—sunny, liberal, beach lined, and on fire.

Finn's a Hotshot firefighter; Poe's the team Helitack operator. They're headed to California to fight a fire in San Jacinto; dangerous country.

“It’s Not Goodbye” by mssrj_335 (T - 25.9k)

Finn is an ex-soldier on a solo motorcycle trip across America. Poe is the mechanic in a small desert town. Poe wants to keep his secrets and Finn is running from something--or toward it--and the part for his bike is going to take at least a week to come in. What starts as a quick stop and awkward flirt devolves into a conspiratorial intrigue of a very personal nature. Lights in the desert, headaches and vague memories all point Finn to something that has Poe tied in knots. He just has no idea how far that something will take him.

“A Possibility (A Promise)” by sapphistication (T - 5.9k)

Poe, Prince of Yavin, is briefly reunited with the Resistance Fighters lead by General Leia Organa. After three years apart, he quickly finds that his affections for Finn are of a different nature than he remembers. Despite the war they find themselves in, they share a few moments of peace by the fire, filled with soft words and meaningful smiles. Time works against them, but Poe seeks a possibility and makes a promise.

[jung-koook]

Monbebe anon back from a while and oh boy so much has happened xD bts solo Instagram!! This still feels...weird? Not in a bad way, no by this i mean it doesn't feel real? I always wanted them to have one because they are all have unique postings but the only way we had insta profiles was fanmade ones so seeing it be "official" doesn't seem real still. Like I am convinced they are all fake and fanmade, espeically some of the usernames they seem like very on brand but also something fanmade (like jungkook's make me wheeze like buddy lolol I bet he felt so proud of that like he was doing a happy dance or something)

So yeah, I need time to get used to it lol. Again not saying this in a bad way, just a shock since for a long time they always said they wouldn't make one I think? I will admit, its hilarious seeing them struggle and getting used to Instagram xD like I love that for them, I very much like that they did limit comments. While I would love to see them interact with fans like other idols do at times, I understand bts have a large following and it can get well....bad =/ I mean a good example is taehyung got into "drama" quote on quote for following a female idol. By accident I think but I cannot say this as fact yet it makes me sad he got some drama for it because like ??? It isn't our place to tell them no you cannot follow other idols or friends and must keep it to bts. Even if he did, I am happy most made it into a little joke but some did go too far and the fact he said its scary makes me a bit sad =/ I shouldn't overthink it but I kinda do since like your social media should be fun and safe. You should curate it to your liking and if the boys wanna follow other people they can. They can just stick to following each other or simply not follow anyone like jaehyun (jungkook's fellow 97 friend) does lol. The fact they will get backlash for tiny things like this or how some fans said jungkook should post his feed differently is like ??? I understand for jungkook it was to be kind but let him post what he wants, my feed is a mess but do I care? No since it is for my enjoyment which I do hope the boys do enjoy it at the end of the day! Sadly these kind of stuff will happen from how many followers who has, who has more likes, etc. Its so silly but hey, welcome to the internet I guess?

Sorry for the rambling sky :c Idk if you want to post this ask (which you can ignore and delete the ask) about the insta topic but wanted to share my thoughts which I hope it was ok. Another thing to note, I know in kpop solo Instagram MAY mean bad news (I know that from last experience with groups) but not always! Bts are very active so this doesn't mean bad news. Let's not panic loves, I would understand if bts was quiet for 2 years and THEN we slowly see each of them opening one but that isn't the case. Just a new way to be active online for them! Ok that is all, good day or evening to you sky!

i'm still finding it weird that they have a individual instagram account.

at first i was trying to believe that it was their idea to create an account there, but after they themselves confirmed that it was bighit that told them to create their accounts (and it looks like bighit tells them how they should use their account) it made me a little less... excited? but other than, i love them sharing their stuff with us.

jeongguks username is really iconic right LAKSAKSKAS i agree with you. i wish things were different, that we could see bangtan interacting with their friends, with other famous people without any drama. but this is impossible right :/ some people will make anything become a drama if they want to.

please, whenever you want please share your thoughts with me. i really love how you express your thoughts and i think i really agree with a lot of the things you say.

happy new year! ♡ i wish you much happiness and health!! i'm wishing you a wonderful new year ♡ may the new year bring only happiness and joy to you i feel so bad how long it took me to reply your message ); i'm so sorry monbebe anon )); I just saw your message now

[devilatmydoor]

five minutes to midnight I l.r.h

🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊

🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊

 a/n; i was listening to boys like girls and this fic was born! i love NYE and i’ve always wanted a midnight kiss so here we are, enjoy! 

summary; You attend Calum’s NYE party and as the year closes so starts a new beginning. 

pairing; luke/reader 

word count;1,049 // warnings; drinking, language 

masterlist // ficmas masterlist 

🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊✨ 🎊

You walked down the hallway and returned into the crowded room, your eyes scanned the area for familiar faces. Your eyes met his as he waved you to come over, red solo cup in hand as he talked to Calum who was sipping his white claw. You weeded through the multiple groups of people as you made your way to him, his smile brighter than the disco ball Calum managed to put in his living room.

"I thought you left." Luke mentioned as he ran his fingers gets through his curls.

"I thought I told you I was going to the bathroom!” You explained as you walked with him towards the kitchen.

“I forgot, obviously.” He winked as he walked with you, you could smell his cologne as you reached the empty kitchen.

“Clearly, let me guess- tequila!” You teased as you reached for a red solo cup. You knew it was his favorite drink and that he’d either drink that or beer.

“Cal’s convinced me to try his favorite flavor of white claw!” He smiled as he reached over and grabbed a can. You poured your drink. You realized how alarming close Luke was standing to you.

He sipped his drink as he leaned against the counter, "You think Mikey and Cal will make it to midnight?"

You looked over to see them sleepily talking on the couch as Crystal talked to Kay Kay. "If they lay down and start cuddling then it’s over.”

He let out a wheeze before laughing, “I can totally see it.”

“Me too,” You smiled as you talked with him about everything and anything; the both of you ready for the new year and what it would bring.

Crystal motioned you over and he looked at you, “I’ll go find Ash, go talk to her.”

“I’ll be back.” You smiled as you left his side and walked towards her. She smiled as Kay Kay and she smiled like idiots.

“I swear if you two don’t kiss at midnight I might have to intervene.” Crystal explained as she sipped her drink.

“We’ve got a plan if you don’t.” Kay Kay commented as you sighed, as much as you wanted to kiss him you knew he only saw you as a friend.

“Like what?” You asked curiously as you watched him leave the kitchen after finishing his drink.

“A friendly game of spin the bottle or truth or dare.” Crystal smirked as Calum drunkenly walked up to the both of you.

“I heard spin the bottle, if this is a plan for them to kiss I’m in.” He said with a wink as he nodded to Michael who joined in.

“Did I just hear you talking about Luke kissing someone, it better be you and not me.” Michael teased as he looked at you.

“Like Luke’s that bad of a kisser Mike,” Calum commented as he finished his drink.

You all laughed as Michaels’s cheeks turned bright pink, “You know what I mean, they need to kiss already.”

You shook your head as your focus was drawn to Luke who was talking to Ashton across the room. Both of them had their eyes on you and everyone surrounding you.

Luke cleared his throat as you caught him staring at you, “Fuck, they caught me again.”

“Then stop staring and do something.” Ashton expressed as he waved to you.

“Like what Ash? It’s almost midnight there isn’t much time.” Luke sighed as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Take a shot of liquid courage and take them outside and talk to them without everyone else.” Ashton suggested and Luke thought about it and realized it wasn’t a bad idea. He left Ashton without a word and walked into the kitchen and found the whiskey, poured a shot of it before checking the time.

11:53pm.

He threw back the whiskey before looking at you and walking back into the living room, you walked up to him, “Hey you.”

“Hey can we talk outside?” He asked and you nodded and followed him to the front door of Calum’s house.

He opened the door for you and you stepped outside and looked at your watch and it read 11;55pm.

Luke stood in front of you as he took a deep breath before stepping closer to you making the space between you no longer present. “I know I’ve had all year to tell you but I can’t live another moment not telling you how I feel.”

“I’ve always had a ‘thing’ for you as the boys would say but it’s so much more than that. You are the only person who makes me smile the way you do, you always know how to make me laugh and you’re always there no matter what. Every time I look at you I feel loved beyond measure.”

You hung on every word as you looked in his eyes, his soft blues. Everything he said was exactly how you felt about him. He meant everything to you and more.

You held his face in your hands and smiled, “Luke, you are my world. I don’t know what I’d do without you. You make me feel so safe. It’s you, Luke, it’s always been you.”

Within seconds his lips were on yours in a heart-stopping and world turning kiss, his hands resting on your waist as your chest pressed against his. His lips softer than you could’ve ever imagined as you tasted whiskey mixed with mint, inhaling his scent you breathed on his lips before he softly pecked yours. “Oh Luke.”

He hummed before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “Yes?”

“You truly waited until the last 5 minutes of the year to tell me.” You giggled running your fingers through his golden curls.

“I didn’t know how else to do it, Ash convinced me to take liquid courage” He chuckled as he gazed into your eyes.

“So that’s what I tasted on your lips.” You slowly swiped his lower lip, his soft lips kissed your fingertips.

“Mixed with my love, darling.” He winked as you felt your heart skip a beat. “Wanna get out of here?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” You smiled as your fingers intertwined with his as you left Calum’s house and walked together towards his car.

@twilightmomentswithyou​ @lilacsos​ @suchalonelysunflower​ @calumrose​ @softlrh @esbisos​ @burstintocolor​ @redrattlers​ @himbocalum @sanrioluke @blackbutterfliescal @honeybunchcalum @sublimehood @talkfastromance4 @redrattlers @lukeysdimples @myloverboyash @sublimehood @littledrummeraussie @flowers-on-the-graves   @calumthomcs @feliznavidaddycal @calswildflower @haikucal @ukulelecal @highscal @sexgodashton  @currentlyupcalsass @clemmings @notinthesameguey @calmlftv @castaway-cashton @mashlums @boytoynamedcalum  @wastelandcth @spicycal @canyon-moan

[mrsmaddiebobaddie]

MCYT High School Teacher AU

I don’t know if this has already been done but with student teaching on the brain this was invading my subconscious.

Phil: Principal

The most chill admin you’d ever find (He kind of has to be with the staff at the school)

Will let most things slide if you ask nicely

Has a quiet space in his office for students to take a moment to calm down after acting out. He’ll offer them candy and talk through the situation with them. 

Started out as a counselor at the school, so he still holds a similar mentality when it come to talking with students and staff. 

Always takes the side of his staff. The district is usually in the wrong anyway.

He knows the teachers are the experts, screw whatever requirements the state has, he lets them run their classrooms whichever way is best for the students’ learning

Technoblade:  Literature & Composition

One of the most engaging teachers at the school

Most students love him because he’s real and he’ll tell it like it is. 

Has a coffee machine in his room. It’s rare that he’s not holding a mug in his hand while he teaches

Has high expectations for his students

Rarely gets angry. Even when he’s upset he still comes across as calm.

Usually stays at the school late making sure to give the best possible feedback on papers and reports. He genuinely wants each kid to learn something from his class.

Tommy: Speech and Debate

It’s only his second year of teaching

The students would run the classroom if not for Tommy basically being a student himself

There’s a strong chance his class will be off topic at any given point. It’s always an adventure walking past his door, you never know what you’ll hear

Somehow still gets high scores on average from his students

Keeps students after class when he notices them struggling with school or life in general to talk with them. The conversations are always beneficial.

Will 100% fall asleep during professional development meetings.

Karl: Biology

Tries to act hip, fails most of the time.

Always has the most energy in his lessons, finds unique ways to teach the concepts other than slides and worksheets.

Usually the first one in the building each morning

Will give students different options for final projects so they can chose the best method of showing their evidence of learning. 

Gets lower scores than he should on observations because he doesn’t do well under the pressure. One year Phil didn’t announce when he’d be coming in and watched from the door to give a more accurate review. 

Wears a sweatshirt to class more often than he should

Quackity: Spanish 

Hands on learning whenever possible

Uses the home ec. room to make authentic Mexican dishes with his students when they cover the food and restaurant unit

Will just forget that the kids don’t speak Spanish fluently and ramble on until someone interrupts him.

Slow grader, you get your scores when you get them.

Known to be a bit chaotic with his teaching style, it works for some kids but he does need to reteach certain sections every now and then

One time a kid feel asleep in his class so he had all the other students leave and they had class outside to freak the kid out (They were right outside the classroom window, he could still see the sleeper, he told Phil)

Skeppy: Algebra

Like’s his job, pretty much your average teacher

Can’t stand freshmen, but tolerates them since that’s half the students he has. He prefers teaching advanced algebra to upper classmen

His lessons are always formatted the same, starting with a lesson on how to do that days math, with the remainder of the period being free work time

Holds math challenges with his class and gives out prizes. It’s usually candy, though one time he gave out cash. He made his kids promise not to say a word about it. 

Very good at teaching the same math concepts in different ways to help struggling learners

Always one minute away from being late for first period, but makes it just in time every morning.

Dream: Health/Football and Assistant Basketball Coach

Took the teaching job mainly to coach sports

Still cares about making connections with his students, he uses his class to teach life skills and promote positive social and mental health.

If any of his players are in his class he will pick on them. He has no mercy.

Dreads sex education because no one can be mature about it. He gets revenge by making the students film a “how to say no to sex” video with someone in the class.

His wheeze laugh is iconic. You can hear it from down the hall.

If you meet with him and are honest when you’re struggling, he’ll work with you to pass his class. He isn’t going to ruin your GPA over a project on the negative effects of smoking.

Wilbur: History & Geography/Theater 

The teacher who sits on his desk when he lectures

Is very sarcastic with his students, but knows who can take the teasing and makes sure not to make anyone feel uncomfortable.

Prefers class discussion over solo work time, he likes hearing student’s perspectives and ideas.

Turtlenecks

One of the teachers most likely to be the crush of teenage girls. 

Not afraid to mark you down for sloppy work. You use a black ink pen and draw precise lines when turning in maps and graphs or you redo it.

Speaks in musical references 

George: Physics

The chillest teacher by far

Due dates? Don’t worry, he’ll accept an assignment literally months after it was supposed to be turned in

Makes difficult topics seems simple when he describes them

He doesn’t really care if you have your phone out in class as long as you’re paying attention and learning the material

The students straight up call him George, he doesn’t seem to care

Placing near the top for the most crushed on teacher

King of multiple choice questions

Eret: Economics & Government

Makes any student in his class feel welcome

One of few teachers who can lecture the entire period without students falling asleep. He always has interesting stories

Let’s kids chose where they sit

Freshmen are always caught off guard by his voice when they hear him for the first time

Spends too much of his own money on supplies for his students and classroom (Honestly most teachers have to spend their own money on necessary supplies, he just goes about and beyond.)

There’s always a group of students who eat lunch in his classroom 

The Union Rep at their school, will fight tooth and nail for the staff members

Tubbo: Band Director

Super cheerful whenever he’s teaching

He rarely has any free time before or after school because he has so many one-on-one lessons and meetings with students

Likes to have practice outside when the weather is nice

Does his best to make his students feel comfortable and relaxed whenever he does performance based assessments. 

He’s also a new teacher, but you honestly wouldn’t be able to tell

He will be in tik toks if you ask him to, and he’s familiar with all the pop culture trends

Let’s the students chose a song to play at the last band concert. Some years have been less chaotic than others, the worst (or best, depending on who you ask) being when the students voted to play Deja Vu from Initial D.

Fundy: Computer Science/Coding 

Begins each class with a cheesy computer joke. Every class.

Everyone knows you can’t get anything past him technology wise. He can see that headphone in your ear from across the room.

Isn’t afraid to assign extra work when students are disrupting class

Once took up an entire class period showing his students how he coded different difficulties in Minecraft. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he plays the game in his spare time. 

About half the students in his class aren’t really interested in computers, they just want to have him as a teacher since everyone says he’s cool.

Known to hack school computers to bypass restrictions

Sucker for pizza parties. Has at least one per semester  

Sapnap: PE/Basketball Coach

Hella competitive 

Abuses his power of having a whistle. Someone should really take it away from him

Gyms shorts every day. Even in the winter. Sometimes he wears sweats, but never jeans.

Doesn’t let anyone sit out of activities

Tries to set up fun tournaments for each activity they do, makes sure to balance the teams so no one has too much of an upper hand.

He’s usually the teacher who mans detention, he tries to make it as positive as it can be though.

Keeps extra sets of gym clothes to give to students who forgot or can’t afford to buy them

Schlatt: Calculus and Stats/Business  

You either love him or are terrified of him

One of the only teachers who can have an “aggressive” teaching style and still connect with students

You will learn something from his class, he makes sure of it. 

Doesn’t accept late work unless you have a really good reason why you couldn’t turn it in

Wears a tie every day

If another teacher needs a last minute sub during his prep period he’ll cover them. Doesn’t matter what subject, he can wing it

He was the reason the school started offering business studies as an elective due to some vague threats towards the district

Niki: Art/German

Teaching voice is so soft

You can’t tell whether or not she’s giving you constructive criticism because everything she says sounds so positive 

Let’s her students lead learning for the most part, she will cover topics that most interest them while still trying to hit the district required standards (luckily teaching electives gives her a bit more freedom with her curriculum)

Her classroom always smells lovely

Will bring in homemade goodies each Friday for the staff room

Holds art galleries at the end of each semester to show off the arts since they often go unappreciated. It has turned out to be a super popular event for students and staff.

Bad: Special Education

This man has endless patience. It’s crazy

Even after the longest days when none of the students are cooperating, he still has a smile on his face

If he hears cursing in the halls he will call you out in front of everyone. Teachers included. 

Makes sure to keep a list of all his students favorites so he can surprise them with gifts on their birthdays or around holidays

He works closely with the other teachers to make sure his kids can be as involved in general education as possible.

Always wears something fun, be it a tie, socks, shirt, or even a full outfit. His students love seeing what new wacky garment he’ll be wearing that day. 

More Head Cannons

If someone brings food for the staff room Tommy WILL take it. Sometimes he’ll come back for seconds, there will be none left by the end of the day. He’s not as bad as Skeppy though, who will literally pack it up to take home for later.

For the past few months the staff members have been receiving anonymous email chains with photoshopped pictures of each other. Everyone was sure Fundy was behind it, Eret thought he saw him teaching his students how to use the program by editing their favorite teachers into stupid situations (they’ve all been school appropriate of course). Fundy did in fact start it, but now so many other teachers have joined in that it can’t be traced back to one person anymore.

All the teachers love going to sporting events. They’ll join in with the student section to cheer on the teams. If they know there’s a kid who doesn’t have family that will come to watch them they’ll make shirts with that players number to show support for them.

Wilbur, Niki, and Tubbo work together on musicals. Niki does the sets and costuming, Wilbur directs, and Tubbo leads the pit. There are plenty of long nights during tech week that devolve into chaos (especially when Niki isn’t there)

Spirit week is very intense, to say the least. The teachers are assigned a grade to be advisors to, and they get into it. For the duration of the week they practically become rivals with whoever isn’t in their assigned grade. They’ll pull pranks on each other constantly, especially when the students can see. It’s all playful of course, but it gets the kids more excited about spirit week when they can support their teachers and watch the amicable rivalries carry out.

Technoblade once joked that he knew every detail about every classic novel. His students took this as a challenge, and tried to find the most obscure and specific trivia questions they could ask him. He has yet to be stumped.

Dream and Sapnap had a running streak of about four weeks where they made everything into a competition. Who could enter their grades into the computer fastest? How many cups of coffee did they drink that day? Who got to school first that morning? There was a tally board in the staff room and the teachers had a betting pool going. Phil finally ended it when they accidently broke the school’s copier trying to see who could scan the most documents in five minutes. Dream was ahead by three points, Sapnap never lived it down.

In service days are incredibly boring, so the staff tries to make those days a bit more entertaining. They order in pizza or sandwiches for lunch. Since there aren’t any kids in the school they’ll do everything they’re no supposed to, like racing office chairs down the hallways and blasting non-school-appropriate music in their classrooms.

Wilbur accidentally started a black market of sorts when he took all the new whiteboard pens from the supply closest. He used this to his advantage, getting people to do him favors in return for the good supplies. When Dream found out he not-so-jokingly threatened to slowly steal everything from Wilbur’s classroom until he released the pens. The next day the closet was replenished once more

Quackity and Tommy are co-emcees for the school assemblies. They hold class competitions between the grades, including spirit chants and ridiculous games. Think minute to win it style, but way crazier. Everyone gets super into it, the upperclassmen usually win. The two have good chemistry and a fun energy.

George has a unit where students make bottle rockets and launch them outside on the soccer field. And every year Karl brings his class out to watch claiming that “it’s science, I teach science, I’ll have them write a paragraph about what they learned”. Really he just wants to watch rockets go brrr

For Schlatt’s birthday one year, Wilbur and Techno printed off shirts with his face on it for all the staff to wear. Schlatt was super confused when he came into work and all his colleagues were walking around with his face plastered across their chest. He got back at Wilbur for it by putting salt in his coffee for a week straight, but Techno never got his comeuppance. It’s debatable whether Schlatt just didn’t know he was in on it, or if he knew better than to mess with Techno.

Lesson planning and curriculum building is quite the process. Some departments can stay on task better than others. Schlatt and Skeppy get in, plan out the term, and get out. The math department has everything on lock. Social studies are also pretty good at getting pre-planning done. They tend to spend most of their time having discussions that aren’t necessarily related to the tasks at hand though. The English department is a mess. It’s really Tommy who’s a mess, he just projects that onto everyone else. Karl and George work well together to map out science curriculum. Even though teachers who teach electives aren’t required to collaborate with each other, they still get together and bounce ideas off each other and get feedback.

I have plenty more if people want a second part. I also only listed the MCYTs that I’ve watched enough to know their personalities at least a little bit, but if you wanted to see another person I may expand the staff list!

[chipper9906]

Hello, Stranger

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 15 EPISODE 18 ‘DESPAIR’ AND SEASON 15 EPISODE 19 ‘INHERIT THE EARTH’

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 6,201

Status: One Shot - Complete

Summary/Preview

The man above him was panting heavily, wheezing for breath through pained grunts, and usually, Dean would find some comfort in knowing he at least got a few good licks in.

Instead, all he could do was drop his head back into the carpet with gritted teeth. Great. He was Dean Winchester; He had taken on monsters that most believed to be fairy tales, he had taken on Lucifer, he had taken on God. Hell, he had even killed Hitler.

And now he was about to be killed by some goddamn junkie that had broken into his apartment.

Fan-friggen-tastic.

* * *

A post episode/ post season fix it fic because my heart hurts and I needed some happiness.

Link To Fic

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                                                            * * *

Dean Winchester is a homeowner.

Well, he signed a contract that lets him rent a shitty, musty, one-bedroom apartment that has questionable stains on the carpet and the lingering smell of weed soaked into the walls, but it’s his. It’s also situated between a few bars and a pizza place that serves the best damn meat lover’s pizza he’s ever tasted in his life, so y’know. Silver linings.

The off-yellow, fluorescent light of the fridge hums obnoxiously at him, lighting the two last bottles of beer he has sat snugly in the corner. Dean pulls one out, grumbling to himself as he pats at the chipped kitchen counter for the bottle opener. He flips the cap off with a flick he has done many times, chucking the cap somewhere to the side (he swears he’ll throw them away later) and flopping down onto his couch with a groan.

His phone shrills at him from within his jean’s pocket and Dean throws his head back with an exasperated sigh. This was what he signed up for, after all. He just didn’t know how Bobby did it. The whole ‘normal job whilst also acting as an information source for the hunter network’ crap. If it were up to him, he’d just do the ‘hunter network’ stuff. You know, what actually matters. But he’s too old to be living out of motels which were paid for with fake credit cards and cash from hustling, so he has to do it the legal way. That’s not to say the apartment is a huge step up from the usual dumps he and Sammy used to stay in when on the road, but still. It’s his place.

Relief floods through him when he finally yanks the phone out of his pocket and sees Sam’s name plastered across the screen. Looks like he was free from hunter duties for a while yet.

“Heya Sammy,” Dean greets him the second he has the phone to his ear, his smile practically audible through the phone. “Is this an ‘another apocalypse’ phone call or…?”

“No, you jerk,” Sam chuckles down the phone. “It’s a regular phone call. You know, that thing normal people do when they check up on family?”

Dean nearly snorted into his beer. “Yeah, well, we’re far from normal, Sammy.”

“Funnily enough, I’m aware of that. But this is as close to ‘normal’ as we’re going to get. It’s the best we’re going to get.”

Dean hummed thoughtfully, swallowing down a mouthful of beer. “Yeah? Tell that to the dumbass newbie at work who decided he didn’t need to put the oil cap back on after changing the oil… oil everywhere Sammy. Everywhere. I can hack off vampire heads all day, but dealing with people? It’s a nightmare, Sam.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Sam assured him. “We’ll get used to it. It’s… Dean, you know how nice it is to hear you complain about work? Hearing ‘my co-workers a pain in the ass’ instead of ‘there’s a Were on my tail, bring the silver’ is something I never thought I’d get to experience.”

“Were on my tail? Wow, great pun there Sam…” Dean mumbled into the phone, getting a half-amused half annoyed snort from his brother. “Maybe one day I’ll go full ‘Bobby’. Get a cabin out in the middle of nowhere, open up my own mechanic shop… though, doubt I could go back to the old way of looking up the lore… Hey, they do satellite internet, right?”

Sam had suddenly gone very quiet. Dean raised his eyebrows as he waited for his brother's response, the white-noise from the other end of the line the only reassurance to Dean that the line hadn’t gone dead.

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, I think that’s something you could get set up.” Sam finally answered. “But… you know you can do all that without the whole ‘hunting network’ thing, right? That is still an option-,”

“I know, Sam,” Dean cut off his little brother abruptly. “I know that’s an option. And maybe one day I’ll realize just how old and broken down I am and accept that. But-,”

“But you won’t,” Sam sighed subtly.

“Maybe one day,” Dean repeated softly. “I just… I don’t think I’ll ever be able to quit cold turkey, Sam. I just… I need to do something.”

“Have you been on any hunts?”

Dean shrugged his shoulders, forgetting that Sam couldn’t see him. “Eh, a few. No solo hunts, before you panic. There was a hunter going through town, uh, Jason White? Hadn’t heard of him before, but-,” Dean huffed quietly in laughter. “-He sure as hell heard of me. Seems the Winchester name still has its rep around the hunter community.”

“I can never tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

“Dude was giddy to work with me, so I’d say it was a good thing.” Dean took another swig of beer. “And that’s when they don’t even know we kicked God’s ass!”

“Jack kicked God’s ass,” Sam corrected him. “We got our asses kicked by God.”

“Yeah, but… we needed to get Chuck to beat us up for the plan to work, so… I think it’s fair to say we brought down God.”

“Depending on who you tell that to, you might end up being flayed rather than hailed as a hero.”

Dean paused with the bottle of beer to his lips. “Point taken… maybe it would be better to keep it to ourselves.”

“Probably,” Sam agreed with a chuckle.

“How ‘bout you, Sammy? How’s college life treating you? Again?”

“It’s…” Sam was about to do the usual ‘everything’s great’ spiel, but something about Dean’s inquiring tone made him pause. “… it’s more difficult than I’d thought. I don’t know, maybe I should have had some kind of buffering time between, try and adjust a little before going back.”

“I can imagine.”

“Back then, I felt like I belonged in college, you know? I felt… on par with everyone around me, but now? I stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Yeah? Well, you are an old man amongst eighteen to twenty-year old’s.”

“Thirty-seven isn’t old, jerk. Plenty of people go back to college when they’re…”

“…older?” Dean finished his sentence with glee.

“Shut up.”

Dean laughed smugly at his brother’s annoyed grumbles, though he quickly pulled himself back together. “Seriously though Sammy, I… I hope you know I’m proud of you for this. I know it’s not exactly what we – what I imagined, but… I’m glad to see you living out the life you set out for yourself. I know I wasn’t supportive of you when you first left for college, and I know it’s gonna be tough for you. But if you can go up against God and win, I’m sure you can pass your bar exam.”

“Thanks, Dean.” Sam’s voice sounded a little choked. “How are you doing, anyway? I didn’t really ask.”

“Living the dream, Sammy. Living the dream.” Dean answered dryly, staring sombrely at the last dregs of beer in the bottle and wondering whether it’s worth grabbing the last bottle from the fridge. Future Dean will hate him if he does…

“Seriously, Dean.” If Sam’s voice was anything to go by, he had the puppy dog eyes on full effect right now. “How are you? You okay? I know it’s been hard since… since…”

Dean swallowed hard, letting his eyes flutter shut and his head lean back against the couch. “No, Sam. I’m pretty damn far from okay. And I’m not sure if I ever will be, but… I’ll learn to cope.”

“Dean, it’s… don’t be afraid to ask for help with this kind of stuff. I know it’s a bit unconventional when it comes to our lives, but-,”

“A bit unconventional?” Dean spluttered. “Sam, how the hell would I go about explaining any of this to a shrink, huh? ‘Hey, I had the literal Death trying to kill me, and one of the few people I love sacrificed himself to save me by telling me he loves me.’ Yeah, I’m sure that’ll go down a-,”

“What did you just say?” Sam interrupted in a quiet, shocked voice. “Dean, you… did Cas say-,”

“I’m not talking about that, Sammy.” Dean’s tone left no room for argument.

“Cas was my friend too you know, Dean,” Sam argued back, his voice understanding but digging too much for Dean’s liking. “I know you don’t like talking about this, but-,”

“No, Sam. I don’t like talking about it.” Dean snapped curtly.

“But-,”

“Cas was my Eileen, Sam.” Dean could hear Sam’s mouth snap close, the stunned silence on the other end of the phone too loud in Dean’s ear. “And I know you sure as hell don’t like talking about her. I had to… Fuck, do you have any idea, Sam? I never let myself think about it, about what Cas was to me. He could be a stubborn bastard and hard to read at times, and this whole damn time, he loved me and… he never told me. All this time he’d been holding that to himself and he just… I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t say anything. He was just gone, and I…”

“You loved him.”

It wasn’t a question. Dean squeezed his eyes shut at Sam’s words. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. And he never got to know. He never heard me say it.”

Dean ran a tense hand through his hair, pulling at the strands with a pained grimace. “I still see him sometimes, Sammy. I feel like I’m going crazy. I’ll see a flash of him in a crowd, see that stupid tax-accountant get up of his out of the corner of my eye, and… I keep telling myself he’s gone, that I need to move on.”

“You will, Dean. Sometimes, after… after Jess, I’d see her, too. Grief does strange things to the mind.”

“Yeah, I know, but… I can’t help but think about when I lost him in purgatory. When I kept seeing him, back then, and… all that time, he was trying to reach out to me.”

“This isn’t like then, Dean.” Sam’s response was like a punch to the chest. “Cas was in Purgatory. When he was trying to contact you, he was back on Earth, right? Cas is… he’s in the Empty. The only being with enough power to get him out was Jack, but-,”

“But Jack’s not gonna be hands-on,” Dean said miserably.

“Right…” Sam replied with a sigh. “I’m sorry, Dean. I wish it was Cas, you know I do, but… he’s gone.”

“I know. I know that, Sammy. I’m not denying he’s gone, I just… I miss him. Guess I always assumed we’d win this thing together, you know? ‘Paradise on Earth’ and all that.”

“I don’t even know what Cas would have done after all this,” Sam said with a mild tone of amusement. “After meeting Cas, it felt like we had to stop one apocalypse after the other.”

“Poor guy never really got to catch a break,” Dean agreed sadly. “Maybe I could have trained him up to be a proper hunter, just like he wanted. Or… maybe he would have flown home.”

“Home?”

“Yeah, y’know; Heaven. If the other winged dicks let him back in, that is.”

“Dean… I don’t think ‘Heaven’ is Cas’ home. At least, it hasn’t been for a while, anyway. If Cas was still here, well… whatever he decided to do next, I can’t imagine anything that didn’t involve being by your side, Dean.”

 * * *

The later into the night it got, the more tempted Dean was to break out the bottle of whisky he has hidden under his cupboard for ‘emergencies only’.

The only saving grace was that Dean had the day off tomorrow, so it’s not like he had to worry about work. Tonight was just going to be… one of those nights. Getting off the phone with Sammy always left him feeling bittersweet; happy to hear his brother’s voice, but the reminder that he was so far away only worsening the dull ache he felt in his chest that he could only fix by drinking until everything went black and numb.

‘THUMP’

Dean was upright from his bed in seconds, fingers curling around the comforting grip of his pistol under the pillow. The sound hadn’t come from his room, rather somewhere else in the apartment – the living room, perhaps? The kitchen? He slowly peeled off the covers, untangling them from his legs and stepping softly onto the dusty carpet, thankful it would mute his footsteps.

Dean cautiously approached his closed bedroom door, placing his ear up to the door and straining his hearing. Nothing. For a moment, he wondered if he had simply imagined the noise, his emotional and exhausted mind caught between sleep and lucidity, conjuring up a sound to distract him.

Maybe, if Dean were a normal person, he’d have waved it off and headed back to bed. Hunter's instincts are hard to shake off though, and not checking the apartment simply wasn’t an option. Sure, he had thrown up all the usual sigils in the apartment the second he had moved in (and likely ruined any chance of getting his deposit back), but you never know.

Dean clasps his free hand around the rounded doorknob, painstakingly turning it until he hears the ‘click’ of the lock, wincing at how loud the usually quiet sound felt in the silence of the room. Dean swings the door open slowly, peering out of the room and into the pitch-blackness of his apartment. He can barely make out the shadowed outline of his furniture, lit up only by the muted lights of passing traffic peeking in through the partly opened blinds.

Dean takes a single step out into the living room when a hand clasps around his shoulder.

He whirls around in an instant, knocking off the assailant’s arm and lifting his pistol to aim. The gun is wrenched out of his hands in an instant, the unexpectedly strong pull nearly sending him tumbling straight into his attacker. Dean hears his gun clatter to the floor, and he throws a punch out of instinct, feeling his knuckles connect with the strangers’ jaw. There’s a pained grunt from the man, definitely a man by his posture and deep, surprised groan of pain, and Dean jabs out his fist again before the man can counter. His fist lands squarely in the man's gut and Dean knows by the sound the man makes that he had just had the wind knocked out of him.

Dean’s next hit isn’t as successful, the man catching Dean’s fist mid-swing and twisting him away, pushing him forward until his chest hits the wall with a resounding ‘thud’. Dean grimaces at the pressure against his back and arm, kicking out a leg backward and feeling it connect with the guy’s knee. It buckles, the pressure on his back gone and Dean takes the advantage, spinning around and shoving the guy hard. He sees the blurry black figure go sprawling backward, slamming into the wall opposite with another pained grunt. Dean scrambles to the floor in search of his gun, blinking rapidly in an attempt to adjust to the darkness of the room. He just about catches a glint of metal, reaching for the gun before it’s gone again, kicked out of sight by his attacker. Dean growls in frustration, jumping to his feet as fast as his body will let him. It seems he isn’t as fast as he once was, the man grabbing him by the arm and slamming him back down to the ground before he can even blink.

His back hits the floor hard, the air leaving his lungs in one giant ‘whoosh’, dust erupting from the unkempt carpet under him. His attacker had clambered over him, the heavy pressure he felt on his wrists surely the man pinning him down, the weight on top of his legs surely that of the stranger. His head was spinning, vision blurry from the dark, and the hit to the back of his head when he landed. The man above him was panting heavily, wheezing for breath through pained grunts, and usually, Dean would find some comfort in knowing he at least got a few good licks in.

Instead, all he could do was drop his head back into the carpet with gritted teeth. Great. He was Dean Winchester; He had taken on monsters that most believed to be fairy tales, he had taken on Lucifer, he had taken on God. Hell, he had even killed Hitler.

And now he was about to be killed by some goddamn junkie that had broken into his apartment. Fan-friggen-tastic.

“Hello, Dean.”

His heart stops. Pauses, for just a moment. When it kicks back into gear, it's with a hard, resounding thump. The voice was gruff, grated, that of a man who had either smoked ten packs of cigarettes a day or had had his vocal cords shredded apart. It was familiar, like coming home, and he wants to scream to the Universe how fucking cruel it is for him to be losing his mind like this, that it was bad enough to be seeing him, but to be hearing him too?

Unless…

He squirms underneath the man’s grip, his shallow, quick intakes of air a sure sign of an approaching panic attack. To Dean’s surprise, the man's grip slackened, and he let Dean scramble up to his feet. Dean stumbled back into the wall as the man smoothly got to his feet, stood there silently watching Dean panic as he slapped his hand against the wall, searching for the light switch. Dean’s hand passes over the smooth cool plastic of the panel, and he smacks down hard on the switch.

The light bursts to life, bathing the room in that sickening bright white. It’s blinding - as if lightning had struck inside his apartment. Dean still has his hand glued to the light switch; his gaze glued to the stranger stood opposite him.

Except, that was no stranger.

There’s a thin trail of blood slipping down a split lip that’s curved up into a subtle smile, blue eyes glossy with unshed tears that are scanning up and down Dean like he can’t quite believe he’s there. His chest is still heaving with exasperated breaths from their scuffle and he’s holding himself awkwardly, one leg taking more of his weight than the other – likely a result of Dean’s attempt at defending himself.

“Cas? Cas, is this… is that really you?” Dean’s voice is breathy, uncertainty laced in every word.

“I spent the whole drive over here thinking about what to say when I saw you,” Castiel said. “And now all I can think is how I should be scolding you for not checking to see if I’m a shifter or a demon first.”

Dean blinked owlishly at Cas, the shock mixed with the adrenaline sending his brain into overdrive. Cas’s shy smile widened briefly for a moment, barely wincing at the sting of his split lip being pulled.

“Actually, I… I was worried for a moment that I had been told the wrong address and had broken into someone else’s residence. But then you were pulling a gun on me and it seemed a bit too late to ask, so I-,”

Dean rushes forward before Cas can finish his sentence, throwing his arms around Cas’s shoulders and burying his head into his neck. He’s fully aware his hands are shaking, scrunching up the back of Castiel’s trench coat so tightly that he can feel some threads popping loose under his fingers. Castiel’s hands were wrapped around his back in return, squeezing Dean close with all his worth, eyes squeezed shut in content with his head nestled next to Dean’s.

When Dean pulls away, it’s to hold Cas at arm’s length and just… look. Take him all in. To savor the warmth of Cas’s under his hands, to drink in the smile he never thought he’d get to see again. Because there’s a part of him that still doesn’t know if this is real, and he wants to take the time to memorize the feel of Castiel in his arms.

“You, uh…” Dean says somewhat awkwardly. “You need a drink?”

 * * *

Dean’s been staring at Cas for way too long then is socially acceptable now.

He’s perched on what Dean knows from experience is an incredibly uncomfortable bar stool at the end of the kitchen counter, the beer Dean had offered him pressed against his split lip from their, um… reunion. Dean tapped his fingers against the cool glass of whisky he held, watching Cas as his eyes scanned curiously around the apartment, and Dean starts to feel guilty for not keeping on top of the cleaning as much as he should. In his defense, he wasn’t exactly expecting company.

“How… how are you here, Cas?”

“I had to hot-wire a car that had been left parked in a desolate road near a field in Illinois. In my defense, it seemed rather neglected, so I doubt it’ll be missed. It was quite difficult finding you actually, your number no longer worked and I had to visit many, many bars to find some hunters who had some knowledge on your whereabouts-,”

“Cas, that’s… that’s not what I’m talking about. I mean how are you here?”

Castiel pulled the bottle away from his lip, placing it down delicately on the countertop. The signature frown was back on his face, along with the cocked head that Dean found much too endearing. “Dean, have you not noticed?”

Dean followed Castiel’s hands to where he had placed a finger on his split lip, wincing when he pressed down a bit too hard.

“What? That I greeted my best friends return from the dead by giving him a beating? Yeah, I kinda noticed.”

Castiel sighed quietly, and Dean grinned at the exasperation. “Have you not noticed that it hasn't healed?”

Dean frowned at him in confusion. “Oh. Why haven’t you…?”

It finally clicked.

Dean sat up straight as it hit him; looking to the split lip, to the bruise that had already begun forming on the edge of Cas’s jaw, to the way he held out his leg at an odd angle like it was bothering him.

Almost as if…

“You’re human?”

“I believe so, yes. My grace was… warped. It’s been through a lot, through the fall… but… I believe it had been different from the very start. Chuck was right, in a way. I was ‘the angel with a crack in his chassis’. Maybe that’s why I was the only one. Out of all the other me’s that exist… I was the angel that began to feel. The angel to fall in love with the righteous man. Angels aren’t supposed to love, you see. Emotions are seen as distractions. Emotions were thought only possible to humans because of one thing.”

“Souls,” Dean answered for him.

Castiel nodded. “Dean, do you understand what the Empty is? What happens to us? It’s… it seems almost peaceful when you think about it. To spent eternity just… sleeping. But we don’t sleep. We dream. We dream of all that we regret. For most angels and demon’s, they have only one regret; their death. What they did wrong to meet their end, tortured endlessly by that mistake. I didn’t dream of my death though, Dean. My death was no mistake. Instead, I dreamt of you. I dreamt of all the times I let you down, of all the things I should have done or said but never did. Angels aren’t supposed to do that, Dean. Those aren’t the regrets soldiers of God are meant to have.

“The Empty isn’t a complicated being. It’s… it’s nothingness, and it wants to exist as nothingness. Billy made it promises she wouldn’t keep, keeping it awake when all it wanted to do was to return to sleep. So when it had dragged us into that place, when I fell into that sleep… perhaps it assumed it would be able to return to sleep. But my dreams, my regrets… they weren’t of the type that any another being in the Empty had. My grace wasn’t settling, it was… it was like an animal in a cage, it was…”

“It was keeping the Empty awake.”

“The Empty wanted me to suffer. But in doing so, it was suffering itself. It didn’t understand why; I didn’t understand why. Why my grace. What made it different? It wasn’t until I had been spat back out here; when the Empty had figured it out before me that I realized. It wasn’t my grace, Dean. It wasn’t grace at all, not anymore. I’m… I’m still not sure how it happened, whether it had been happening for a while, if it was the reason my grace had been diminishing over the years, or… if maybe Jack had a part to play in it, or… or if it was just myself. If me falling for you, to be the first angel to do that… maybe it’s something that could happen to all angels.”

Dean had never been more confused in his life. “What are you talking about, Cas?”

“My grace was changed, Dean. An angel’s grace, it’s a source of power, a piece of God himself; just like a soul. I’m not just an angel who has lost his grace, Dean. My grace is still here, just changed. Adapted. I’m human in every sense of the word.”

Dean knew what Cas was getting at, but he couldn’t quite believe it himself. “…You have a soul?”

“I have a soul,” Castiel confirmed, giving Dean a watery smile. “Humans were not meant to exist in the Empty. It’s not something the Empty has ever had to deal with - emotions. The Empty is a powerful being. It can tear into your mind, to know all that makes you suffer. But a soul? It doesn’t know how to approach that. It doesn’t know how to make it quiet.”

“So… so what does that mean now for you?”

“It means I’m here,” Castiel answered simply, his wandering gaze returning to their surroundings.

Dean smiled, glancing down to the whisky in his hand to avoid seeing Castiel’s judgment of his shitty apartment. “Yeah? And what do you think of… here?”

Castiel hummed thoughtfully, taking his sweet time to look around the abysmal contents of the room which Dean knows full well only takes about ten seconds to take in.

“It’s rather small,” Castiel finally gives his verdict. Dean ducks his head with embarrassed laughter, scratching awkwardly at the back of his head.

“Yeah, well… a high-school dropout who has barely any prior job experience and next to no references doesn’t exactly get many calls for interviews.”

“I see,” Castiel replied with an understanding yet sad smile. “Why did you and Sam leave the bunker?”

“Well, after Sammy decided he wanted to give college another shot, and after you and Jack, it was… the bunker was too empty. Too quiet. Too many memories, I guess. And it’s not like I was gonna be hunting like I used to without Sammy…”

“You’re not hunting?” Castiel asked, surprise clearly written across his features.

“Sometimes,” Dean replied with a shrug. “It’s… Sammy wanted another shot at the normal life, and after everything… that doesn’t even begin to cover what the kid deserves.”

“And what about you?” Castiel said with a questioning frown. “What about what you deserve?”

Dean laughed one humorless chuckle. “Cas, I always expected to go out in a blaze of glory. Maybe with Sammy by my side, maybe not, but-,” Dean paused, turning his eyes down. “I didn’t… I didn’t picture a scenario where I lived and you didn’t. I didn’t know what life was going to be like after that, after you… I didn’t think it was a pain I’d have to live with, you know?”

Cas’s calloused hand rests over Dean’s, thumb gently sweeping over his wrist. There’s a sadness and regret to Cas’s gaze, but a comforting smile curled onto his lips. “When I took that deal… a part of me never expected for it to be claimed. I thought the Empty had made some colossal mistake on its part, because… I couldn’t envision a scenario where I’d be happy. A scenario where we beat God and we made it out alive. But then I wondered… I wondered how much the Empty knew of me. It had tortured me with it once, with what I feared and… of who I loved. And Dean, it was almost funny when I realized, when I assumed the Empty had surely made that mistake. It knew what I wanted most, and yet, it was something I could never have.”

“What you wanted?”

Cas’s smile turned sad. “You, Dean Winchester. I wanted to know the touch of your lips, of the feel of your skin under my hands… I wanted to know what it would be like to wake up next to you, to be something that brought you some sense of happiness… I wanted to know what it was like to be seen as something more than family, a friend, a brother… I wanted what angels aren’t supposed to want. I wanted your love, Dean Winchester.”

“…Cas-”

“But there was a simplicity to it.” Cas continued before Dean could form the words he wanted to say. “I couldn’t get that happiness because… because I wouldn’t let myself feel it. It was easier to just push it down, to pretend as if this hadn’t been something eating at me ever since I had rebelled. And to just… to just say it. In letting myself feel it, in telling you, in telling myself… that was my own form of happiness. It wasn’t in knowing you felt the same way, it wasn’t that I needed you to say it back… I said it because I needed you to know.”

How did Cas do this? Every time he thought he knew what to say, Cas found a way to rip the words right of his mouth. Dean was thrown through a loop again, his brain brought to a standstill. None of it made sense in his mind. The thought that he was Cas’s happiness, that he had somehow made an angel of the lord love, it was just… why him?

“In a way, the Empty lost,” Cas told him. “It wanted me to suffer. It was cruel, yes, but genius on its part, I must admit. To only take me once I had found happiness on Earth, but… I didn’t suffer as it took me, Dean. To die, knowing you were safe? That I had kept you safe? My mission is and always will be to save Dean Winchester. If my ending was the one where you get to live the life you deserve? Then… that was my happiness.”

Dean huffed, staring down at his whisky, absentmindedly spinning the glass across the counter. “You had found your peace. I get that, Cas, I really do,” Dean stopped spinning the glass, eyes flickering up to meet Cas’s. “But if you think the life I deserve is one that didn’t have you in it, then…”

Dean chuckled dryly, taking a small sip of his drink, welcoming the burning sensation that crawled down his throat.

“Dean, don’t think I wouldn’t have wanted… this,” Castiel insisted, brows furrowing. “I would have been content to carry on the way we are. I would of course wanted to stay with you, and Sam, and Jack, just as we were.”

Dean licks his lips nervously, tasting the lingering leftovers of his whisky. “And what if I’m not content with that?”

Cas frowned at him, a brief look of panic flashing across his face. “I don’t get what you mean?”

Dean laughs. He can’t help it. They’re small hushed snorts of laughter, dropping his chin down into his chest and shaking his head, his shoulders shaking with every chuckle. “Oh, Cas… We’re both idiots, aren’t we? Biggest damn idiots there are.”

Castiel was only getting more and more confused.

“Cas, what the hell did you think that mixtape meant?” Dean asked once he lifted his head back up. “What did you think that prayer back in Purgatory meant, huh? Both times? When I prayed to you every damn night in that hellhole?”

“I… I assumed-,”

“Assumed… yeah, we both kept making assumptions about the other, huh? You know I’m not great with words, Cas. I’m… I speak better with my actions, you know? But this… you… I didn’t know how to handle the way I felt for you. Calling you my brother was easy because that was a love I knew how to process. It was easy. You knew I cared for you, and I thought that was enough.”

“It was enough,” Castiel assured him.

“No, it wasn’t, Cas,” Dean insisted. “I was too much of a coward to tell you the truth.”

“Dean, you don’t have to-,”

Dean grabbed Castiel by the lapels of his trench coat to shut him up, tugging him forward and damn near dragging him over the counter. Castiel had gone wide-eyed, bracing himself by grabbing onto Dean's arms, keeping him suspended over the counter.

“Listen to me,” Dean stresses the words, keeping his eyes locked with Cas. “You’re not just my best friend. You’re not just my brother. You’re all that and more. You’re not just what I want, you’re all that I need. And I’m telling you this now because I should have told you all those years ago. I should have told you when you told me. I love you, too. You got that? I love you.”

And then Dean kisses the shocked look right off of Cas’s face, just to drive the point home.

It’s far from the best kiss Dean’s ever had. The taste of Castiel’s blood is metallic and tangy under his lips, and he went into the kiss a bit too rushed and hard. There’s definitely a clash of teeth at first, and a kiss was apparently the last thing Cas was expecting as his lips remained frozen in disbelief for some good few seconds. And yet, it was perfect.

Because it was Cas.

It’s not until Dean’s hands frame Cas’s face that he gets a response. His lips move under Dean’s, chapped yet addictingly soft. Dean’s thumb brushes down Cas’s cheek, the burn of stubble against his skin something new, but a reminder that this was Cas. It was Cas’s lips on his. It was Cas’s hands brushing through the short strands of hair at the back of his neck.  It was Cas pressing his body into him, fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle that never thought the other piece would fit.

When they break away, it’s with a surprised “Oh,” from Cas that has Dean shaking quietly with repressed laughter, his forehead pressed against Cas with matching smiles on both men's faces.

“Like I said-,” Dean said softly. “-Idiots. Both of us.”

“I prefer the term ‘fools in love’,” Cas said with a grin. “Still idiots, but we have an excuse.”

“Yeah... yeah, I like the sound of that.” Dean agreed, returning Cas's gentle smile. “So, back on Earth, grace gone – or, changed into a soul. What’s the plan now?”

“Just... live life, I suppose. Experience humanity, of all there is to offer. Grow old...”

“Hmmm,’ Dean hummed in content. “Can you perhaps picture a little cozy cabin out in the woods? Maybe a yappy dog that won’t shut up and is constantly shedding all over the damn place, but you love anyway?”

“I think I could get on board with that... so long as there’s a cat running around that’ll provide the dog with some company,” Cas paused, squinting suspiciously at Dean. “Is there already a dog?”

“Apartment has a ‘no pets' rule. Miracle’s shacked up with Sammy for the time being, keeping the kid sane through exams.”

“...Miracle?”

“Yeah. Y'know, coz she was a miracle.” Dean swallowed nervously, struggling to get the next words out. “And... in this vision of the future... maybe you see yourself growing older with a grizzled, greying green-eyed hunter?”

“...Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“If you really have to ask that question, then I’m afraid I’m going to use to demote you back to ‘idiot'.”

“Wow,” Dean blanched. “Having a soul has made you a sassy dick.”

“You say that like you don’t love it.”

“I deal with it, but only because I love you. There’s a difference.”

Dean’s word elicited a beaming smile from Cas, that toothy smile he so rarely sees from Cas that he knows he’s going to be spending the rest of his life trying to see as often as possible. And really, what else can he do but smile back, just two idiots smiling at each other in a cramped, barely lit kitchen?

“I never thought I’d hear you say it…” Castiel admitted quietly.

“Well, be prepared to hear it until you get sick of it, coz I’ve got a lot of times I should have said it to make up for.”

[nicostolemybones]

Bodyswap, Godswap

@solangeloweek a little late but! A twist on Godswap because I was planning an Ares/Hecate Godswap but couldn't decide who I preferred to be in the Hecate cabin

Tw: heavy swearing

Nico was not happy to be woken up. He was even less happy to be woken up by the mythical entity known as 'sunlight'. He tried to bury himself back in his blankets in confusion, but then. Then. Music. Not even good music. Some song from Shrek everybody loved. And then. Then. Some fucker in his room started playing some kind of annoying ass squeaky clarinet solo. Sure, Nico could play the clarinet, but it was clear that this motherfucker was purposely making it squeak. 

Nico practically ripped the blankets off- and promptly hissed and winced at the sunlight. He tried to close his curtains but somehow the damn sunlight still got through. How? He had blackout curtains, there was no godsdamned way. So, he realised, he must have shadow travelled in his sleep. He groaned loudly, turning to look around-

Well fuck.

There was Will's siblings. The annoying Clarinet player stepped forwards, pointed the damned thing right next to his ear, and squeaked it loudly. The sound hurt, splitting through Nico's skull. He tried to swat the clarinet down, but he severely miscalculated and accidentally rammed the clarinet further in the person's mouth, and now they were crying and their teeth were bleeding and wow Nico was such a jerk. 

Everybody was staring at him in shock, so Nico ran into the bathroom to breathe and stop panicking before he'd apologise, but as soon as he looked in the mirror-

He screamed.

Because that was very much Will in the mirror. Nico was about to assume that Will had Iris messaged him- until he noticed Will's face mirroring his expressions. And that is when Nico truly panicked. Because he was in Will's body. He was not in his own body, he was in Will's body, and Will was wearing pyjamas like a heathen and there was no way Nico was going to undress him to dress him again because this was not his body and he had no idea what Will would be comfortable with. Also Nico was fourteen okay, and whilst he was curious, he was far more awkward and uncomfortable.

He didn't want to leave Will's body all sweaty and gross, though, so he filled the sink with water and decided to wash over his face, neck, hands, and arms.

-

Will definitely felt weird. He hadn't seen any sunlight, it was pitch black aside from… was that… Greek fire torches? He didn't remember going to sleep in Nico's cabin… maybe he was just groggy because there was no natural light in here. He opened the curtains, wincing as his spine protested. He must have threw his back out carrying all the boxes into the infirmary yesterday, but he didn't remember them being that heavy… he stretched, but the pain in his back got worse, so he headed to the bathroom. He decided to go straight for a shower, but as he went to take his clothes off, he realised… this was not his body. 

They were Nico's jeans and Nico's shirt, the same ones he'd worn yesterday. And they were a little loose, and Will was definitely not that thin when he went to sleep. He backtracked to Nico's mirror and his suspicions were confirmed when Nico's sleep deprived face stared back at him. So a shower was very much out of the question. And sure, Will had seen many campers in states of undress in the infirmary, but it was very different when this was his boyfriend, whose body he was in, where it wasn't a matter of life or death. Will sniffed his pits- and decided against doing that again. It didn't seem like Nico had showered in a while, so he must have hit a rough patch. 

Nico's hair was matted, so Will decided to take the time to care for it, brushing it through then bending over the sink to carefully wash it- they both had a similar hair type, so Will wasn't too worried about ruining it- although, Nico didn't have shampoo, so Will had to improvise and hope for best. Will went over Nico's face and arms and cleaned behind his nails, and quickly wiped his armpits under his shirt so Nico's body didn't smell of sweat for Nico's comfort when he was back in it- and also so he'd have less to worry about when he was back in his body. 

Nico's skin was definitely more sensitive than Will's- not necessarily painful, but the fabric of his shirt was irritating and overwhelming, and Will finally understood why Nico didn't like touch too much, because yikes… that wasn't very fun. And Will was also screwed because he didn't know what foods would make Nico nauseous, or what time he preferred to take his pain meds.

-

Nico was not having a good time when he marched over to his own cabin. Will was stupidly tall, and Nico was not used to the extra height. When he'd sat down, he'd almost fallen backwards, because he hadn't calculated how much taller than the chair Will was in comparison to Nico. He knocked on his own cabin door, and was not prepared to see himself stood there.

"I'm- short," Nico noted, and Will nodded. 

"So small. Also wow I'm… taller than I thought."

"I don't feel like I'm about to pass out," Nico noted, "is this what healthy feels like?"

"No," Will laughed, "gods no, I'm far from healthy, give it, like, an hour, you'll still feel tired and dizzy."

"I don't feel tired though," Nico shrugged, "this is the least tired I've felt."

"I feel like I've been awake for four days," Will replied, "I have no energy…"

"Yeah, welcome to chronic fatigue, try not to fall asleep in your breakfast and if you do fall asleep, try not to murder the at least five people who chew you out for being lazy during training. Just… good luck, you poor bastard. I've had time to get used to this, you…" Nico gestured to Will "are an insufferably healthy morning person, good luck."

"Well thanks(!) Also I feel we should set boundaries here. Just, no touching the, yeah, that's a good boundary. No looking either."

"Obviously," Nico replied hastily, "now let's never bring that up again before I die of embarrassment!"

"Agreed," Will snorted. "Hey, do you think we can use each other's powers?"

"...I wonder if we can use our own powers but… with each others. Like… light travel or shadow healing. And then, when we're back in our own bodies, we can… we can just teach each other how we did that…"

"Oh my god we can become ten times more awesome-"

"I'll race you!" Nico bolted off towards the training arena before Will could protest. Will was always declaring a race, and Nico could never catch up, way too short and way too sick to actually manage to catch up. But now? In Will's body? With long legs and daily running? When Will would never miss a leg day? Nico had never run quite so fast and it was awesome, although he figured he maybe should have dressed Will in something else, because the fabric of his pyjamas was seriously chafing where his thighs met. But then. Then Nico discovered that flip flops were not easy to run in. He lost one, and tripped over the other, and faceplanted the floor. Seriously, how in the hell did Will manage to outrun six heavily armed Romans in these?

Will caught up to him, wheezing, and immediately sat on the floor. "Christ Neeks," he gasped, "your fucking lungs are shit!"

"Flip flops? Seriously? Will these are a death trap!"

"What the fuck is your spine playing at, why is it trying to murder me right now?!"

"How the hell do you deal with the chub rub, it hurts!"

"Talcum powder," Will replied, still catching his breath. "And you're. Definitely coming back to the infirmary for more tests."

"Give me a few days," Nico conceded, and Will nodded, standing up- and immediately staggering.

"Fuck, where's my vision gone-"

"Where you left it," Nico replied deadpan, but Will was too busy waving his hand in front of his face.

"Will it come back or do I have to call it like a dog?"

"Just move around a little. It leaves this weird fuzzy pressure in your skull a little when it comes back but you won't pass out if you still got your hearing."

"Oh my god how are you not dead yet, what the hell is wrong with your body why is it doing this to me?"

"A lot of things, doc," Nico replied, springing to his feet, "a hell of a lot of things. It's your problem now!" Will groaned dramatically, slowly walking towards the training arena.

-

Will was definitely having fun. Nico's powers were just so cool, so fun, and so emo. He had to resist the urge to make his own edgy music videos to MCR songs using the shadows and skeletons as special effects. 

He was currently watching Nico using his powers, which was definitely a sight to behold. Nico was manipulating the light into heavily concentrated rays, stepping inside them, and emerging elsewhere. He was placing his hands upon the bones beneath them and breathing life into them, returning their souls. How could a son of Apollo do necromancy? But Nico… Nico had spent the last few years amongst the dead, and it was allowing him to use his knowledge to manipulate Will's powers into something stronger, something unstoppable. And Nico had discovered how to make deadly whips of light, how to create haemorrhagic plagues, how to create a sonic whistle loud enough that it may deafen or kill. In just a few short hours, Nico had unlocked abilities Will wasn't sure he was even supposed to have.

And then it was Will's turn with Nico's powers… but what could he do? Nico was already… well, overpowered. He was able to boost Nico's healing powers using the shadows, was able to use Nico's ability to solidify the shadows to create tiny tools- he could will the shadows into a body, turn them into sutures, use them to hold off a bleed. Will discovered he could break or fix bones, could fuse them, could unfuse them. He discovered he could turn his hand transparent, could reach inside and fix the problem without cutting people open. He could use the shadows to freeze or cauterize, could keep an organ on ice in the shadows, or burn the flesh to stem a bleed. He could return a soul to the body from the underworld, could stop death… 

Well fuck. When using each other's powers, with the knowledge and skills of their own… they were doing things that they were sure were… were never intended for a demigod to do… that made them more powerful than their parents. 

Suddenly, experimenting with their powers felt dangerous.

[autumnsart22]

Oikawa x reader ch. 9

Holy shit, HELLA long chapter! I just got so excited for this one, I couldn’t wait until Sunday lmao. Hope you like it, it was definitely one of the most fun to write 🤪

I stepped out of the car, the smell of salt washing over me. The sun was high in the sky, baking and hot today--perfect day for the beach. Kiyoko slid out of the passenger seat after me, her sheer white coverup doing nothing to conceal her matching white bikini underneath. I wore a pink strawberry sundress over a high waisted baby blue bikini with matching sandals and sunglasses. 

Daichi, Suga, and Yamaguchi joined us around the side of the car, since we had all carpooled together. From across the sandy parking lot, I saw Tanaka pull in, his car practically shaking with the volume of his music. Noya sat in the passenger seat, totally vibing with it, while Asahi, Hinata, Kageyama, and Tsukki sat in the back; all of them except for Hinata looking immensely uncomfortable. 

When they joined us, we all walked together onto the beach, where at least a hundred people were already gathered. Beach volleyball was set up, music blared from an unseen speaker, beer kegs were scattered at random intervals, picnic tables were covered with snacks and food, grills were going, and people talked, laughed, and swam in the ocean. 

I was momentarily overwhelmed by the amount going on, but Hinata grabbed my hand, bouncing with excitement. 

“Come with me,” he said, practically dragging me away. I managed to grab Kiyoko at the last second, not wanting to be abandoned on the beach with a bunch of people I didn’t know. 

Hinata headed towards a large circle of people who stood around a massive bonfire, despite the heat of the sun. I recognized a few of them, but didn’t know any by name. 

As Hinata approached, a tall, broad boy with spiky hair and silver dyed tips turned around. “Hey! Hey! Hey! It’s the little orange!” 

“Hey Bokuto!” Hinata said, running over. “How have you been?” 

“Gooooood, Fukurudani is playing better than ever, so I hope you’re prepared to be crushed by my amazing spikes!”

Another boy turned around, just as tall as Bokuto with spiky black hair. “Keep it down Bokuto, you’re so loud.” He looked over, noticing Hinata. “Heyy, it’s Hinata. Kenma, look who it is!” 

“Kuroo, leave me alone, I’m busy.” Kenma, a short kid with longer hair and blonde dyed tips had his eyes glued to his phone, tapping on the screen as he played some sort of game. 

“Hey, I want you all to meet someone!” Hinata gestured wildly at me, and most of the people around the bonfire turned to look. 

“Hi,” I smiled. “I’m Y/n L/n. It’s nice to meet all of you.”

“Heyoo, I’m Kōtarō Bokuto!” Bokuto roughly slapped me on the shoulder, almost making me fall on my face. 

“Tetsurō Kuroo, nice to meet you.” The other boy with the spiky hair stuck out his hand, and I shook. He gestured to the boy with the longer hair, who still hadn’t looked up from his game. “That’s my boyfriend, Kenma Kozume. Sorry, he’s a bit rude.” Kuroo jabbed Kenma, who let out an offended grunt and gave his boyfriend a death glare.

“I have drinks,” another extremely attractive boy with black hair joined the circle, passing a few red solo cups around. When the boy noticed me, he gave a short nod. “Hi, I’m Keiji Akaashi.”

I quickly reintroduced myself, smiling and accepting a cup filled with what smelled like beer. 

“Can I have one?” Hinata asked, and I almost burst out laughing. Hinata drinking beer? Usually he only liked fruity drinks like white claws, or just avoided alcohol altogether, taking orange juice instead.

Bokuto laughed loudly, but passed Hinata a red cup. 

“You won’t like it, Hinata,” Kenma muttered, but the Karasuno first year seemed determined. As I expected, disgust twisted his expression as he took a sip and he handed it off to Kiyoko immediately. 

“Where do you go to school, Y/n-san?” Akaashi asked, turning to me. 

“Oh, I’m the manager of Aoba Johsai. They had practice today, which is why I came with Karasuno.” 

“OOOOOH she’s ditched them!” Bokuto yelled. 

“Keep it down,” Akaashi said, rolling his eyes.

Hinata poked me. “Y/n-chan used to go to Karasuno as our manager, but her mom forced her to transfer, which is why you haven’t met her before.”

I nodded, feeling a little uncomfortable suddenly. I didn’t want to face the question of my loyalty quite yet, because which team would I choose? Seijoh or Karasuno? 

Luckily, I managed to move the conversation away from myself. “Where do you all go to school?”

“Kenma and I are at Nekoma,” Kuroo said, ruffling the shorter boy's hair. 

“Me and Akaaaaaaaashi go to Fukurodani!” Bokuto pumped the air. He almost had as much energy as Hinata; how was that even possible?

Akaashi gave me a knowing look and passed a bottle of gin my way. I added a small amount to my now empty cup, thanking Fukurodani’s setter with a wide smile. 

“Heyyyy, anyone want to drink out of the beer keg?” Kuroo smirked, gesturing towards the large metal barrel a few yards away. Bokuto agreed instantly, and Akaashi decided to tag along. 

I tapped Kiyoko’s arm. “I’m going to join them. Do you think Hinata is fine?” 

The orange haired spiker was speaking wildly to one of the tallest guys I had ever seen, who had silver hair and green eyes. The tall boy had his arms crossed, looking down at Hinata from his immense height. 

Kiyoko nodded. “Yeah, that’s Lev Haiba, he’s friends with Hinata. I’m sure they’ll be fine.” 

“Ok, I’ll see you later, ok?” 

Kiyoko nodded and waved, turning to talk to Dachi and Suga who had just come to join the group around the bonfire. 

I turned, downing the gin in a quick, terrible tasting gulp, before hurrying to catch up with the three other boys who were headed over to the beer keg. 

Tanaka and another boy with a blonde mohawk were already taking turns drinking from it, seeming to be in a competition over who could handle the most. Kuroo began chanting for Bokuto to do a kegstand, a challenge which the Fukurodani captain accepted instantly. With the help of Tanaka and the mohawk guy (who introduced himself as Taketora Yamamoto), we managed to hold Bokuto upside down as Akaashi fed him the hose, which sprayed beer directly in his mouth. 

The entire group quickly collapsed, and Bokuto fell in a spray of alcohol which soaked his clothes. I began to giggle uncontrollably, and even Akaashi smiled.

Kuroo slapped Bokuto on the back. “HA, better luck next time! I bet I can do better.” 

This started a competitive round of keg stands, which didn’t end well for anyone. By the time it was my turn to drink upside down, everyone was already too drunk to hold me, so we just ended up falling in a tangle on the ground. 

“You look like you could use some help,” said a deep voice above me, and I looked up to see a serious looking boy with cropped olive hair standing over me. He extended his hand, and I accepted it, allowing him to help me to my feet. 

“Thank you very much,” I smiled. 

The guy nodded, his face expression blank. “My name is Wakatoshi Ushijima.”

I blushed slightly at his low voice, not sure what to make of him. “Um, I’m Y/n L/n.”

I blinked, suddenly realizing that he was only wearing swim shorts. Unfortunately, I was standing very close to his naked chest and stomach (which were ripped as fuck). 

Before my intoxicated brain could come up with the next course of action, I felt a hand on my shoulder. 

“Hello, Ushijima,” I looked over to see Kuroo, smiling blandly at the other boy. “It’s good to see you again.” 

“Ah, Y/n-san, I see you met Mr. Prissypants over here!” Bokuto flung his arm across my shoulders, not-so-subtly dragging me back from the olive haired boy. 

Ushijima narrowed his eyes slightly, but bowed to me. “It was a pleasure. I hope I get to see you again, Y/n-san.”

Without responding to either Bokuto or Kuroo, Ushijima turned and strode away, his back flexing as he walked. 

“You good?” Bokuto patted me on the back, and I almost fell. 

Instead I burst out into wheezing laughter. “Why was he so serious?” I gasped. 

Kuroo and Bokuto joined my giggles, hunching over and clutching their stomachs until none of us could breathe. 

“God-I-I need to cool off,” Bokuto finally panted, turning his gaze to the ocean. With a whoop, he took off at a run towards the water. Kuroo and I followed in suit, both of us tripping and falling as we slipped on the sand. 

It probably wasn’t the smartest idea to go swimming in the ocean when we were all wasted, but Bokuto was already waist deep, and Kuroo didn’t hesitate to follow him. I had enough forethought to quickly ditch my sundress on the sand before leaping into the waves, which quickly slammed my legs and almost sent me careening headfirst into the water. Bokuto and Kuroo were much taller than me and didn’t have any trouble standing in the large waves, but I was practically up to my chin. 

“Y/n-san, you look like a drowning cat!” Kuroo mocked. 

“Obviously that’s you, Mr. Nekoma!” I yelled, right before a wave crashed into me and sent me flailing back towards the beach. 

Bokuto and Kuroo were laughing, wading over to me and helping me back to my feet. Before I could blink, Bokuto splashed me in the face, making me splutter and gasp. When I partially recovered, I furiously splashed him back, starting a vicious battle which made my eyes literally burn from the saltwater. 

“You know, you’re chill Y/n-san,” Kuroo said. “I’m glad we got to meet you.” 

“Ohhhh yeah I agree! You’re definitely fun!” Bokuto agreed, and I grinned. 

“Thanks I--” Before I could finish my sentence, the captain of Fukurodani was easily scooping me up, holding me like a baby, before quite literally tossing me into the next upcoming wave. I spent at least three seconds in the air before I collided with the water and was swept under, tumbling with the sand and waves. 

I felt a hand on my arm, dragging me back up to the surface where I gasped for air and furiously spat out salt water. 

“Dumbass!” Akaashi was yelling at Bokuto, still holding my arm. “Clearly she’s too drunk to swim properly you idiot!”��

“Ah, it’s fine, I’m totally ok--” I tried to interject, but Kuroo gave me a “this happens all the time” look, so I let it go. 

By the end of his lecture, Akaashi turned to me. Poor Bokuto looked like a sad little puppy, and I gave him a pat on the shoulder. 

Akaashi said, “Want to get some food or something? It’s probably best if all of you get out of the water.” 

I nodded, still holding on to Fukurodani’s setter’s arm for support as we exited the water, Kuroo and Bokuto behind us. 

Oikawa POV:

After a lot of nagging and carefully worded pleas, I finally got Coach Nobuteru to cancel our Saturday practice so Seijoh could attend the volleyball club beach party. Apparently teams from all over Japan were coming, which made me practically buzz with excitement at the thought of mapping out potential enemies and showing off my own skills.

Iwa-chan and the rest of the team decided to go as well, all except for Y/n. According to our coach, she had a doctor’s appointment scheduled for that day, which was why she wasn’t able to make it to practice. I tried calling her to find out, but no one answered and it went straight to voicemail. Either she actually did have a doctor’s appointment, or she had gone to the party without telling anyone. 

The thought annoyed me a bit, because I knew who she would be going with: Karasuno. I knew it wasn’t my place, but it made me jealous to think of her with another team. She was Seijoh’s manager now, which meant she should be with me, not them. 

I had been absent minded all day because of it, causing Iwaizumi to smack me on the back of the head a few times after I didn’t hear when he was talking. 

As we stepped out of my car into the sandy parking lot, he said, “Dude chill. If she’s here, it’s literally fine. I don’t know what your problem is.” 

I ran a hand through my hair, huffing. “I know that! You’re the one with the problems.” 

Iwaizumi crossed his arms. “I’m going to get a drink.” He didn’t pause as he disappeared into the crowd of people, headed in the direction of one of the picnic tables loaded with different types of alcoholic and non alcoholic drinks. 

I tugged my shirt over my head, tossing it through the half-open window of my car, leaving me in only my gym shorts. I began to follow Iwaizumi, eyes scanning the crowd for a familiar flash of H/c hair. Instead, I was almost immediately swamped by fangirls, desperate to get a picture with me, or to have me sign their faces in permanent marker. 

What idiots. 

My fake smile appeared without prompting, and I humored them, laughing along with their comments and allowing them to snap a few pictures. 

“It seems you’re always the celebrity, Tooru Oikawa.” 

I turned slowly from the group of girls, muscles practically spasming in an effort not to punch Ushijima’s stupid, serious face. He stood a few feet away, arms crossed as he surveyed me. 

I forced myself to smile wider, giving a mocking bow. “That’s me. I just love the attention.” 

Ushijima started to speak, “You--” But I interrupted him, already done with the conversation. “I have someone I need to find, but glad we got to catch up. I’ll see you in spring nationals.” 

I pushed past him, not looking back as I headed further into the party. I scanned the crowds, spotting a few of the Karasuno players, recognizing Daichi Sawamura, Asahi Azumane, and Kōshi Sugawara. But Y/n wasn’t among them. Maybe she really wasn’t here after all, and had a doctor’s appointment like she said. 

Almost the second the thought had passed through my head, I heard a familiar laugh echoing from down the beach a little ways away from me. My head whipped around so fast that I felt my neck crack. 

Y/n-chan wore a baby blue bathing suit that clung to her body, water dripping from her hair and skin as she emerged from the ocean. Every thought flew out of my head as I gazed at her. Holy fuck…

But her arm was thrown around the shoulders of another guy, someone I didn’t know. He shook water from his dark hair as he helped her walk up the beach, his arm around her waist to keep her from falling. She was clearly drunk as shit--was he taking advantage of her? Or did she know him….

I stalked towards them, my fists curling as instinctual protectiveness erupted in my stomach. “Y/n--” 

I reached out for her, and suddenly I was getting shoved hard in the chest by another tall guy with spiky black hair who came up from behind them. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The guy asked in a low voice, glaring at me. 

“Hey! Who’s this?” Another guy with a loud voice and frosted tipped hair came up on Y/n’s other side, staring at me curiously. 

I took a deep breath and smiled widely. “I’m Tooru Oikawa. That’s my team manager you have there, and I’d like her back.” I reached for her again, but the guy with frosted tips smacked my hands away from her. My vision went practically white with anger. 

“Woahhh buddy, Y/n-san isn’t just an object that we’re going to hand off to a random stranger,” the boy said, only to be interrupted by a slightly slurred voice. 

“Oikawa? You’re here?” Y/n’s face brightened, making my heart stutter at how happy she was to see me. But then her brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

I laughed without humor. “Practice got cancelled, so the team came to the party.”

The guy with the black hair still had an arm around her waist. He turned to her with a serious expression asking, “You know this guy?”

“Yeah, Oikawa’s my...friend…” she slurred the last few words, clutching the boy’s arm as she tilted slightly. The other guy with the spiky hair quickly grabbed her other side so she didn’t fall on her face. He stumbled slightly as he moved, which made me think he wasn’t very sober either. 

“What the fuck did you give her to drink?” I snapped, fighting the urge to grab her again. “Woah, buddy, chill out.” Frosted tips laughed, his words running together. 

“Sorry,” the guy with the black hair grunted. “They’re all a little drunk.” 

My gaze fell on Y/n again, almost instantly distracted from the problem at hand by that dumbass bathing suit. I couldn’t get enough of her in it. 

“New girl--” I started. 

“What’s going on over here?” 

I turned to see exactly the opposite of who I wanted. Instead of Iwaizumi, or someone who would help me get Y/n away from these creeps, I saw the four Karasuno first years were striding towards us across the beach. Shōyō Hinata, Tobio Kageyama, Kei Tsukishima, and Tadashi Yamaguchi, all of them looking serious and angry. 

Y/n POV: 

Now was not a good time to be drunk. In fact, it was probably one of the worst times. I could barely keep up with what was happening as Hinata, Kageyama, Tsukki, and Yamaguchi approached. Oikawa (Oikawa was here!) stood a few feet away, arms crossed and a dark expression on his face. His hair was pushed back from his forehead, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt, exposing his toned stomach which was built with a lot more muscle than I would have expected from such a lean person. Damn. 

I became aware that I had an arm around two other shirtless men, Akaashi and Kuroo. The situation (me, drunk with a bunch of half clothed guys who were basically strangers) probably looked bad to Oikawa, which was why he had come over to help. I needed to explain but--

“What’s going on?” Kageyama said darkly, giving Oikawa a death glare. 

“Ah, my young prodigy, four eyes, freckles, and short stacks. Good to see you again.” Oikawa’s smile was arrogant and he put a hand on his hip as he glared at them. 

“It’s--” I tried, but Bokuto easily spoke over me. 

“This asswipe was trying to grab Y/n-san!”

Oikawa’s eyes narrowed, and I quickly unhooked my arms from around Kuroo and Akaashi, moving to the center of the circle of massive boys to try and calm them down. Unfortunately, I only succeeded in tripping. 

Oikawa’s arms came out so fast, it was as if he was expecting me to fall. He caught me around the waist, pulling me to his chest holding me tightly. My heart raced and I felt my cheeks heat up as my face was pressed against his skin, hands literally clutching his bare shoulders. 

The moment was ruined as Hinata let out an outraged cry. “Let her go right now, Great King!” 

I was yanked back yet again hitting another person’s chest as they pulled me away from Oikawa. I looked up to see...Tsukki? He was trying to protect me too? “Let her go,” Tsukki said, radiating arrogant hatred without even trying. His glasses flashed, and even I was intimidated for a moment. 

“Hey--” I tried again, but this time it was Kageyama who spoke over me. 

“She isn’t just some toy you can drag around,” he practically snarled. 

I felt a gentle hand on my arm, and looked over to Yamaguchi. “Are you ok?” He whispered. 

I nodded quickly, grabbing the boy’s hand and squeezing it. The fact that all these people were trying to defend me, even though they barely knew me or I didn’t go to their school anymore, made my heart swell. Even Yamaguchi, the sweetest and quietest person I knew, had come over to help. 

But Oikawa wasn’t a problem here. 

Kuroo stepped towards Oikawa, crossing his arms over his chest. “Clearly, you aren’t wanted around here. Go bother someone else.”

I watched Oikawa’s eyes turn lethal. He only looked this intense during volleyball matches, and now wasn’t the time to get into a fistfight. He was outmatched six to one, but he looked like he was about to punch Kuroo in the face.

“Yeah Great King! Get--”

I quickly lunged forward, interrupting Hinata and stepping between the two shirtless, towering boys who glared at each other with murder in their eyes. “Hey!” 

Oikawa looked down at me, his eyes softening slightly. “Chibi-chan…”

I turned to Kuroo and Bokuto, the second of which had stepped up to Kuroo’s side. I was now sandwiched between three different boys, my head barely coming up to any of their chins. I tried to ignore the number of bare chests around me as I spoke. 

“It’s ok, Oikawa is the captain of Aoba Johsai. I didn’t realize that Seijoh was able to come to the party today which was why I came with Karasuno, but Oikawa can drive me home.” 

Bokuto opened his mouth to say something, but Akaashi stepped forward, putting a hand on his arm. “Bokuto, it’s fine. She clearly knows him, and he’s the captain of Seijoh.” He turned to Oikawa, his face apologetic. “Sorry, we didn’t know who you were, and we didn’t want to give Y/n-san to a random person when she’s this drunk.”

“Hey!” I snapped. “I can take care of myself.”

Every boy around me, including Hinata, gave me a patronizing look. 

Bokuto laughed loudly sticking out his hand. “Well this is awkward! Sorry for almost punching you there. I’m Kōtarō Bokuto, captain of Fukurodani!” 

I sighed, but Oikawa nodded and shook hands with the other guy. “It’s a pleasure to officially meet you.” 

Kuroo and Akaashi also introduced themselves, but I was practically dying from the embarrassment of it all. How did they switch to being civil so quickly? Less than a minute ago, they all looked like they were about to end each other. 

Oikawa bowed. “Well, I think we’d better get going. Thank you for taking care of her before I got here.” He smiled, so wide and fake that I was shocked when no one said anything about it. Had he always hidden his true feeling behind those smirks and laughs, and I just never noticed? 

I quickly pushed the thought from my mind, turning to Kuroo, Bokuto, and Akaashi. “It was really nice to meet you guys. We should hang out again!” 

Bokuto crushed me in a hug, slamming me on the back a few times and knocking the breath out of me. “Hell yeah! Add me on instagram and I’ll send you my number!” 

Kuroo also slapped me on the back (what was with these volleyball players hitting so hard?!) and Akaashi promised to keep in touch. 

I hugged Hinata and Yamaguchi tightly. “Tell Kiyoko and Daichi where I went, ok?” They nodded both of them looking a little sad. I suddenly felt awful for abandoning Karasuno yet again, but I was the manager of Aoba Johsai. And even though I didn’t really want to admit it to myself, I wanted to go with Oikawa, outside of any duty as the manager. 

As I waved goodbye, Oikawa draped an arm across my shoulder and smirked at Kageyama. “I hope to see you in a real game, your majesty.” 

The tension spiked, and I tugged on Oikawa’s arm. “Let’s go, Shittykawa,” I snapped, practically dragging him away. 

“Ugh, Y/n-chan, you’re so mean! I just wanted to make fun of him a bit!” Aoba Johsai’s setter whined as we made our way across the beach, through the crowds of people towards the parking lot. 

I spotted Iwaizumi talking to two unfamiliar girls, and changed directions towards him. As we approached, I said, “Sorry to interrupt. Iwa, Oikawa and I are headed out. Do you have another ride?” 

Iwaizumi glanced between Oikawa and I, clearly trying to assess something. After a second he nodded. “Yeah, I’ll just get a ride with Kindaichi. See you later.” 

I smiled and thanked him, following Oikawa as he led me out to the parking lot. A few girls yelled Oikawa’s name from behind us, but he ignored them. 

I held onto his arm, still not feeling completely sober. And also, a small part of me wanted to silently declare that Oikawa was not available. Even though he didn’t belong to me in any way...but still. 

Seijoh’s captain stopped in front of one of the nicest cars I had ever seen, and I felt my mouth drop open as he pulled a set of keys to unlock it. It was a silver convertible, sleek and shiny, looking almost brand new. 

“Y-you own this?” 

Oikawa tried to hide a smile, but I saw pride in the lines of his shoulders and the curl of his mouth. “Yeah, I spent all my savings on it.”

I slipped into the passenger seat after putting a towel down so I wouldn’t get his nice leather seat wet, and Oikawa started the car, pressing the button so the roof smoothly rolled down. 

He glanced over at me, eyes flickering over my bathing suit, before he cleared his throat and looked away. 

“Here,” he tossed his shirt at me without looking. “You should put that on.” 

I glanced at the shirt. “Why?”

He muttered something under his breath that I didn’t hear, but before I could ask him to repeat himself, he connected his phone to bluetooth and started playing music. I rolled my eyes and tugged the shirt over my head. It was just a plain white Aoba Johsai shirt, but it smelled like him, and I had to resist the urge to sniff it like a creep. 

Instead, I pulled my wet hair up into a bun, leaning back in my seat as Oikawa pulled out of the parking lot. 

“Do you know the way to your house from here?” He asked, and I nodded. 

“Yeah, I’ll direct you.”

As we pulled onto the highway, “Why Do You Feel So Down” by Declan McKenna came on, and I lifted my hands into the open air. The sun blazed down and the wind whipped across my face, making a wide smile spread across my face. 

I began to scream the lyrics, most of my voice lost to the wind. Oikawa began to laugh at me, and I stuck out my tongue. 

“You’re so cute chibi-chan!” He took his hand off the wheel to squeeze my cheek, making me slap him and yell to look at the road. 

“I didn’t think you’d like this kind of music.”

“What?” He looked offended. “I like all kinds. What did you expect me to listen to?” 

“Probably something shitty, like your personality,” I scoffed, and he jabbed me. 

As we pulled up to my house, Oikawa smoothly parked next to the curb. 

“Here,” I moved to take off his shirt, but he waved me off. 

“It’s fine. You can give it back another time.” He eyed me, smirking. “It looks better on you, anyway.”

I blushed, reaching down to grab my purse in order to hide my face. “Thank you for driving me back. And also thank you for trying to defend me from the other boys, even though I can take care of myself. That was very sweet.” 

I turned to look at him, only to find him staring at me, head tilted and a genuine smile on his face. He shifted, and I felt all my muscles freeze as he reached out and grabbed my chin, running a thumb across my lips gently. 

“I’ll defend you whenever you need me to,” he said, and I let out a shuddering breath as he dropped his hand. 

“O-ok. Well I’ll see you Monday?” 

He nodded and waved as I hopped from his car. His shirt only reached my mid thigh, and I felt my face reddening as I made my way back up to my house. 

Oikawa POV:

I thought that seeing her in a bathing suit was bad…. 

Watching her walk up to her house wearing only my shirt made my heart pound so hard, I had to take a few deep breaths before I drove away. 

Chapter 8

Chapter 10 

[spookyspaghettisundae]

Run on for a Long Time

Jericho had lost sight of his friends. The rushing of blood in his ears eclipsed the scratching sounds, caused by claws scraping along floors and walls. Coming from abominable things that crawled through the corridors of the derelict hospital, in search of them.

Catching his breath, he stared down the length of one such hallway he had gotten lost in. The scratching and scraping and skittering were far away enough. For now.

One of the long fluorescent tubes kept flickering while all others remained dead, drowning the corridor in darkness and flooding it with a cold hard light. Flickering in and out, in an irregular rhythm, robbing his eyes of the ability to adapt.

He blinked and his vision blurred. That made some of the dried splatters on the wall almost appear like something else, like something that was not blood.

Gunsmoke still stung his nostrils, rising from the muzzle of the revolver in his hand. He dared to tear his gaze away from the other end of the corridor and check the chambers of his gun. Every single one of them was empty.

The rushing in his ears continued, his wheezing breaths competed with it and made it hard for him to hear if any creature’s sounds were nearing. Or to hear if any of his friends were sneaking around nearby.

Something scratched against the linoleum floors. Metal screeching followed, like a metal bar being wrenched apart, or twisted and bent.

Without looking where he went, Jericho instinctively ducked through the nearest door into whatever room awaited him nearby.

The light behind him projected a soothing warmth just by virtue of its soft orange color. It dispelled the wintry cold flooding the corridors outside the room. But Jericho also sensed a presence here. Eyes—a gaze—burning into the back of his head.

He still heard the scraping sounds from outside, so before even bothering to look around, he closed the door behind him with care, gripping it between one hand and the fingers of the other still holding his gun, letting the door’s lock emit nothing beyond a soft click once it latched into place within its frame.

This place did not belong. Jericho could tell as much without even turning around to fully take it in. The rustic and homey appearance of the wooden-paneled walls, sturdy bookshelves lining the walls which he already saw from the corner of his eyes, and a lush green potted plant.

The rest of the hospital looked like a slaughterhouse left to rot for a decade. By comparison, this place looked like it was in another world entirely.

And he still felt like someone was staring at him, standing right behind him.

He slowly turned and raised his gun. Whoever it was would not know there were no more bullets left inside of it.

A single burst of sharp breath escaped his lungs as he found nobody there. Paranoia had gotten the best of him.

Yet the room still did not belong. Immaculate, untouched. Some antique-looking chairs with fine leather upholstery and brass tacks. A marble bust of some Greek philosopher stared past him, adding to the atmosphere of sophistication that permeated this place.

One single other door leading out of the room. Footsteps approaching it.

Jericho trained his weapon on that next door, ready for anything.

The door opened and a man poked his head through. Sharp, angular features, short curly hair that had turned salt and pepper over the years. A piercing gaze, like what Jericho had expected to see staring at him upon turning around. And a well-fitted suit that clung to a sturdy and muscular frame, like that of a person who constantly worked out.

This stranger’s eyes went wide, staring right into the barrel of the revolver in Jericho’s hand for several seconds. If he felt fear now, he was hiding it well. He peeled his gaze off the weapon and locked eyes with Jericho while fully opening the door.

With a sweeping gesture of his arm, he presented a larger room beyond that door, a lavishly decorated office filled with more antique furniture. The small adornments like statues, taxidermized deer heads, antique books on more shelves, and water-colored paintings all screamed of a strange sense of opulence.

“Mister Day?” the man asked Jericho. “Please. Would you do me a favor and put the gun away?”

Jericho swallowed and registered how the rushing of blood in his ears had quieted itself somewhat. His heart had decided to take it down a notch, too. Descending from frantically thundering drum solo to a softly thumping background beat.

Confused by how he was being welcomed in here and how none of this fit together with the nightmare he had just hidden himself from, he shoved the weapon into the back of his belt. Once he blinked, he uttered a string of foul-mouthed profanities as he tugged it back out—in response to the searing pain of heated metal stinging his right butt cheek.

The man stepped fully into the waiting room and flashed him a feeble smile, communicating a sense of sympathy towards Jericho’s plight. He held out an open palm to Jericho while also giving him enough space to enter the office.

“Allow me to hold onto that for you until our session is over,” said the man.

Jericho swallowed again and placed the pistol into that open palm. The stranger took it and nodded to him, the air about him heavy with expectation.

Not having forgotten the clawed monstrosities prowling through the abandoned hospital’s hallways, where he had lost track of his two friends during their panicked escape, Jericho never felt more confused.

Jericho bit his lip, shook his head, and muttered under his breath, “Fuck it, I guess.”

He walked into the large office. Surveying the desk and chairs and the small couch and their respective placements finally made the needle drop. This office was a therapy room.

The man closed the door behind them and placed Jericho’s revolver on the desk, then he gestured to one of the chairs. That chair looked newer and more modern than the ones in the waiting room, but also more comfortable.

Jericho hesitated and stood in the middle of the room. Right now, he preferred the idea of standing, just in case he needed to make a run for it.

Because something was wrong. Not only with this place, but with this man. This therapist?

“Who are you?” he asked, his skepticism elevating each syllable to a higher pitch and instantly annoying himself at the sound of it.

“Wolff,” replied the therapist. “Doctor Simon Wolff. We have been working together for a while now, Mister Day. It is especially important that you do your best to remember that.”

Doctor Wolff straightened his jacket’s collar, slipped a small journal from the desk’s tabletop, and paired it with an expensive-looking pen. Taking the objects, he sat down on one of the chairs across from the other that he had gestured towards before, where he expected Jericho to sit.

The geometrical placement of the furniture was so perfect that it unsettled Jericho. He stayed standing and earned another small smile from Doctor Wolff, this one warmer than the last.

Windows to the outside world reflected everything in this room like darkened mirrors. The dead of night swallowed everything outside of them, save for clues of pine trees standing in a thick, snowy mist beyond them.

“Shall we begin?” asked Doctor Wolff, opening his journal and twisting his pen.

He crossed his legs, rested the journal on his lap, and tapped it twice with his pen, the smile never fading from his face.

Jericho mentally reeled. Doubt started eating away at the frayed fringes fluttering around in the darkest recesses of his mind. Was this real and the hospital before, those creatures—was that all unreal? Delusions?

“Do you know who you are?” asked Doctor Wolff.

It took Jericho another moment of internal deliberation, another instance of him swallowing emptily before he replied.

“Yeah. I’m Jericho Day. Private investigator of Fuller & Day.”

Wolff nodded and wrote a short note in his journal.

“Anything else?”

“I, uh, served in the military for almost four years. Uh, am 33 years old, uh,” Jericho stammered his way along, pooling his identity into the format of some lame fact sheet. It helped him get his mind off the horrible hospital behind him.

The more he rattled it down, though, the more the temptation to tell the truth grew. He added, “Two friends from high school hired me to help them, uh, well, check out a letter from our dead friend. It was, uh, sent posthumously.”

The regular ticking of a grandfather clock tocked away in the background, filling every empty beat and every awkward pause of his. The mechanical clicks thudded louder with each strike. After taking down more notes in his journal, the pages rustled as Doctor Wolff flipped through them, at one point back and forth before settling on a specific spot.

“The letter was authentic, the writing indeed Harry’s, but running the fingerprints yielded no match. So you traveled to your home town with your childhood friends, Daniel Smith and Joel Kline,” Doctor Wolff read out loud, in a monotone punctuated by the grandfather clock’s ticking. He clearly removed all melody from it to not offend Jericho, to not make it sound like he was mocking him with the brief summary.

The accuracy still stunned Jericho. He stopped fiddling with the black marble statue of a buffalo on a stand nearby and stared at the doctor.

How in the hell did he know? Jericho sheared every thought over Occam’s Razor and concluded that he must have told him all of this. The doctor obviously knew. But how come he himself did not remember telling him? The doctor acted as if he had been here with him several times before. Jericho wondered if he was losing his mind.

The hospital out there—was it even real? The creatures that infested this town in the absence of people? Had he been seeing a therapist and telling him about all of this? Was all of that out there the hallucination, or was this in here the illusion?

The gun on the desk suggested: both were real. Somehow.

Right?

The therapist’s gaze softly trailed from the book on his lap back to meet Jericho’s eyes again.

“Please stop me if I have gathered anything wrong from our previous conversations, Mister Day.”

Doctor Wolff cleared his throat and continued.

“You keep running into,” he paused, arching a brow. “Monsters—vaguely human-shaped, often faceless or eyeless. Some of them look like people wrapped in plastic that shamble around like zombies. One of them, you described, was a tall man with a horse’s head that attacked and injured your friend Daniel with a—with a stop sign.”

He looked up at him again and Jericho felt put on the spot. Sweat erupted from his pores, knowing how absurd it all sounded when read out loud like that. Yet the therapist allowed no pretention, no derision into his voice. His relaying of Jericho’s experiences felt earnest. Jericho felt taken seriously.

A nervous grin spread across his face, a day to the night of the doctor’s calm, statuesque, mask-like expression.

Still—it was all the truth. Nothing but the truth.

Jericho’s truth.

Right?

Jericho nodded in response. Doctor Wolff mirrored his motion. The therapist pursed his lips, flipped through the pages and kept his gaze locked onto Jericho.

“Good. There is more, but I see that you remember all the experiences you shared with me, even if you do not remember any of our sessions together. That is—somewhat, at least—to be expected.”

The clock continued to tick and tock away, unnerving Jericho further.

“I have been following your progress for a while, Mister Day,” Wolff said. The pause that followed left a lot of wide-open space for pondering. A lot of time for dread to take root in Jericho’s heart, even if the ticking and tocking indicated mere seconds to be wasting away.

He shot a glance at the gun. Even with its chambers empty of ammunition, just looking at the weapon’s cold steel lent him a sense of safety. Jericho wanted it back in his hand.

Some part of him wanted to be back out there. Looking for his friends. Running from those monsters.

Away from whatever this strange place was.

“Though I do not think you are ready, yet.”

Wolff clapped the notebook shut and folded his hands, resting them on top of the little black book, with the pen peeking out from between his fingers like a cigarette.

“Ready for what?” asked Jericho. Each word sharper than the last. “Who the hell are you, anyway? Who are you—really?”

Wolff savored the seconds as they passed upon letting that question sink in. An eerie and knowing smile crept across his face until it froze in place there.

“I have many names, Mister Day. Some call me Judas Iscariot. Some have dubbed me the First Man, others the Harbinger of the End Times. But for you, I’m simply Doctor Wolff.”

Jericho squinted at him.

“‘Kay. I’ll be leaving now while you wax poetic about, uh,” he paused. He waved a hand in a figure eight motion in Wolff’s general direction. “Whoever the fuck you are.”

Wolff still smiled at him. Tilted his head.

“Soon, you will be done with what you came to Evergreen for,” the therapist said. Shook his head. “But until then, the dusk will refuse to end. The sun will never rise again until you commit.”

Jericho had enough. He paced towards the desk and took his pistol. The steel had cooled down again. He wedged it into his belt behind his back.

“Do you realize how long you have been wandering your hometown? Jericho?”

Jericho decided not to indulge him.

Although he did not turn to see it, the rustling of fabric told him that Wolff took a theatrical glance at the watch wrapped around his own wrist.

“Twenty years. You have been trapped in a soulless place, unable to leave for all the mountains of snow that swallow the streets leading out of town, unable to see beyond its borders for all the fog that strangles your vision. You and your friends have lost all sense of time.”

Jericho clutched the brass knob of the door, but he did not twist it yet. Hesitated to leave.

Wolff spoke with such authority. His voice exuded such clean resolve.

It all sounded true. Like nothing but the truth. An impossibility, but now that he thought about it, his memory was obviously not what it used to be. His mind must have been Swiss cheese, or something. Deep down, Jericho knew, that all of this was real.

“Ten years ago, while you still aimlessly stumbled around in this little pocket of personal purgatory, you weren’t even a private detective. You were a petty thief—a grifter—who had burnt down every last relationship in his life before returning to this town. Are you aware of what you are running from?”

Jericho opened the door, returning to the waiting room he had entered from.

“The exit is through the other door, Mister Day,” Wolff informed him in his strangely melodious monotone. “I would kindly ask you to follow the proper path.”

“Fuck off,” Jericho muttered while stepping back into the waiting room and heading towards the final door.

Wolff had nothing left to say. Perhaps Jericho’s rude retorts had finally rendered the sickeningly polite therapist speechless.

Opening the door, the single fluorescent tube in the hospital’s hallway flickered again, alternating between flashes of pitch-black darkness and a harsh, cold light. Cold air poured through the doorway, biting his skin and reminding him of the winter outside, the winter that had taken hold of the abandoned hospital’s bowels.

“Perhaps, next time, you will not even be Jericho Day anymore. Perhaps you will be Danielle. Or Jerry. Perhaps, next time, you will be ready to move on. Ready to finally grow some balls,” Wolff’s voice echoed behind him, the tone rising in pitch to underline his sudden taunt.

Jericho slammed the door shut. Then the words fully sank in, poured fuel into the dimming fire of his fury. He ripped the door open to tell this Doctor Wolff to go fuck himself.

But the waiting room and the office had vanished.

Instead, he only found empty rooms beyond that door. Windows to the outside had been fogged up with years’ worth of grime, boarded up from the exterior. Trash from squatters and disaffected youths littered the corners and the place smelled of urine. Graffiti and lewd comments had been scrawled onto the defaced walls.

With nowhere else to release his anger, Jericho slammed the door shut again.

Scratching sounds erupted in response, traveling to him from the end of the corridor.

A pallid head with neither nostril nor eyes reared around the corner. Its toothless mouth opened, and black slime oozed out from its lower jaw, dripping to the filthy floors. Slender fingers with the flaccidity of undercooked sausages, covered in polyps, flopped around the corner, tipped by long, sharp, black claws. Those talons dug into the surface of the wall, scratching the paint from it, sending more unnerving sounds his ways.

Though it had no eyes, he felt seen by the creature.

Jericho ran.

He would be running for a long, long time.

—Submitted by Wratts

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

“What was your favorite Halloween costume as a kid?”

Alcohol and some swearing are included in this.

Two days before Halloween found the group of friends hanging around Jack and Kat’s bonfire. The fire was toasty and bursts of laughter was common. Curled up in her chair in Jack’s hoodie, Kat’s eyes were wide as she watched her friends greet one another. “What’s got your sitting all alone over here?”

She pulled her eyes from the group Jack was greeting and looked up at Race with a grin. “Just watching everyone and reminiscing.”

“Reminiscing on what?” Race pulled up a chair and faced his sister-in-law.

She smiled, taking a sip of the warm cider in her mug. “Halloweens gone by. Jack and I found a box of old photos and were laughing at the ridiculous costumes we used to dress up in.”

“What was your favorite Halloween costume as a kid?” Race took a sip from his own solo cup, grinning at memories.

Kat pursed her lips, tilting her head as she remembered all of the photos her and Jack discovered. “I was Belle one year, yellow dress and all. My mom curled my hair and pulled it up so it was elegant. I was like 6 at the time. Yours?”

“What are you two discussing over here that you’re so serious about?” Spot asked, leading their friends over to the fire pit. Everyone settled down in chairs before looking at Kat and Race.

The two grinned. “Discussing favorite Halloween costumes from our childhood. Mine was Belle and I just asked Race his.”

“I think I was 4 and I was Spider-Man. I had the web shooter as well. It was awesome.” Race’s eyes lit up.

Jack laughed. “He wouldn’t take the costume off for days. Momma had to bribe him just so she could wash it.”

“You’re one to talk, Cowboy.” Race gave him a look. “You wouldn’t take off your Cowboy outfit for weeks. That’s all you wore!”

Jack ducked his head, a light blush on his cheeks as Kat reached over and patted his knee. “Awwww Jack. Was that your favorite costume as a kid?”

“Probably. That was the one I vividly remember.” Jack shrugged. “Albie? What was yours?”

He was quiet for a moment before he lit up. “I went as Ron Weasley one year and it was amazing. Finchie went as Harry Potter that year.”

“That was just a few years ago.” Race called out. “We’re talking about childhood costumes.”

Albie gave his best friend a look. “We were 17; technically it was our childhood.”

Kat threw her head back, laughing, while clapping her hands. “He got you there, Racer.”

“Shuddup.” Race huffed, shaking his head. “Romeo, what was yours?”

Romeo grinned. “My parents dressed me up as a mini Romeo one year. I got so many kisses on my cheek and so much candy that year.”

Bursts of laughter floated around the fire pit. “Dude how old were you?”

Romeo looked at Blink as the question was asked. “Uhhh like 5 or 6. It was awesome.”

“Specs?” Jack asked, looking around the fire. Kat giggled, taking a sip of her drink with a grin.

Specs grinned, shaking his head. “My sister was an angel one year but I wanted to go as a devil. My parents loved the idea so that’s what we did.”

“Why a devil?” Kat asked, raising an eyebrow.

Specs laughed. “That was a nickname of mine - as I caused trouble wherever I went.”

“Ask him when he grew out of the nickname?” Romeo wheezed while he laughed.

Specs shoved his boyfriend. “Not until I was 16 but every now and then my mom will call me that.”

“Hmmmm would’ve never expected that.” Race shrugged, looking at Specs. “Might need to dig that nickname out occasionally, you little Devil! Blinkee you’re up.”

Blink looked at Mush with a pitiful look. “I don’t know. We usually dressed up with crap around the house. I went as a ghost one year.”

“Is that the year you walked into the lamppost?” Jack laughed, shaking his head.

Blink gave him a look before flipping him the bird. “How do you remember all the insignificant shit but can’t remember important stuff?”

“It’s a gift.” Jack grinned. “So was it?”

Blink nodded, taking a sip of his beer. “It was. That bruise and goose egg lasted for weeks. It was awful. What was yours, Mushie?”

“Uhhh …. I went as a construction man one year. Dad was working one of his odd jobs so I dressed up like him. Everyone thought I was a crossing guard and would wait for me to tell them it’s okay to cross the street.” Mush said as the entire group busted out laughing.

Race, wiping tears from his eyes, laughed a bit before calming down enough to speak. “Dude, you win. That’s amazing.”

“How much candy did you get that year?” Albert asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Mush groaned. “That was the worse part, I got barely anything. Stole a lot of my brother’s though.”

“Finchie?” Race took a sip of his drink, watching Finch’s eyes go wide.

“Uhhhh … I was a doctor one year - had a real stethoscope and everything.” Finch grinned.

They all dissolved into laughter once more. Race’s eyes went wide, looking around the fire until he landed on the one person they hadn’t heard from yet. “Spottie, snookums. What was yours?”

“Batman when I was 7.” Spot grinned. “My dad dressed up as Robin and we went out together. It was a lot of fun.”

Race’s face softened as Spot talked. Spot didn’t talk much about his dad but the memory made him smile. Race laced his fingers with Spot’s and squeezed them.

Kat smiled at the two of them before clapping their hands. “I made you guys something.”

Protests sounded around the fire as Kat pushed herself to her feet. “Knock it off. I know I didn’t have to do it but I did.”

Jack grinned, looking around the fire pit at his friends. Race looked at Jack with a grin. “What did she do?”

“She wouldn’t tell me. Just said that she was working on a project.” Jack took a long sip from his beer bottle, keeping an eye on the porch for Kat’s return.

Walking out of the house with a box in her hands and Basil at her side, Kat laughed as several of their friends jumped up and offered a hand. She waved them off with a laugh before walking back to her seat, setting the box down.

Picking up the little pumpkins, she looked at the tags before handing them out. “Just a little something to celebrate Halloween.”

Thanks and cheers were thrown out as they each opened them to find a handwritten note and their favorite candy inside. “Happy Halloween guys.”

Jack pulled Kat into his arms, placing a kiss on her forehead as she giggled. “Love you Kat.”

“Love you too Jack!”

Happy early Halloween everyone!!!!

[dommexbritt]

FONDUE FOR TWO W/ SUE SYLVESTER // Fri. Feb 26th release

Hello, and welcome to the first ever and extra special edition of Fondue for Two on the Fondue Pot Podcast. A show where I, your host, Brittany S Pierce will ask the burning cheese melting questions so that you don’t have to. Today we have a line up of parents to shed a little light on their feelings on campus, school policy, and their terrible children... 

Now, first we have a well known alumni, renowned cheerleading coach, and all around bad guy... according to a whole slew of lawsuits but don't expect her lawyers to say so. 

Hello, welcome, I hope your time here this week has been as exciting as it used to be back in your day. Just as a background on you and to start, can you please introduce yourself to our listeners?. Let us know how many children you have attending the school and because you're an alumni, anything about today's campus that looks a little different now than how it used to....

Sue: It's good to be here, Miss Pierce, and thank you for the warm welcome.  First off, before I introduce myself, let me just say that none of those allegations were ever proven in a court of law. 

To the point, though, if your listeners don't know me then they should.  Sue Sylvester, cheerleading icon, one of the most successful coaches in the history of our sport.  I have two children attending this school, although whether I acknowledge them as such depends on their grades.

As for this campus...well, Brittany, frankly it's hideous.  This used to be a place for the elite.  The best of the best.  Scholarships?  What is this, Communist Venezuela?  I'd be willing to accept the kids who can pay for themselves, because why not let them spend their money, that's the American way.  But a scholarship?  Embarrassing.  Those kids drag this entire campus down.

B: You heard that Devereux? Sue Sylvester herself, coming at you. 

I know your daughters. 

SHOUT OUT TO TEDDY SYLVESTER ON THE TINY ECHO MIC~~   

As far as the rest of the campus and scholarships, that seems like a totally weird thing to be bothered by but I know a lot of people in your generation have a lot of anger issues from the prohibition days. I'll try not to ask too many rage inducing questions, to be accommodating. 

But while we are on the topic of progressive and dynamic school changes... In regards to the retesting that has been and continues to be issued, do you have a stance on the new tests validity? This has been a hot topic on campus for months since the holidays last year, and I'd love to get some parent perspective on it.

S: Prohibition?  How old do you think I am, exactly, Brittany?  That was repealed in 1933, and I certainly wasn't around to see it.  Tragic day anyway, this country would have been far better off it weren't filled with alcoholic louts. 

See, a person might think I'd be against something like that - after all, your mark is your mark and it's as simple as that.  But I am in favor of tests.  If someone really doesn't have what it takes to be a Dominant?  Tell them so.  Make them a submissive, slap some cuffs on them, and go on with your life.  And those people who show that they're more than just a submissive?  Good for them!  Upward mobility, Brittany, that's what this country was built on.

B: 1933. Yeah I totally know. This campus must have been, like, an entirely different walk of life back then. 

That is really understanding of you. I bet a lot of the students who are listening that might of retested feel pretty reassured that you think so. 

Follow up question, if you were still a student and faced with a retest yourself do you suspect it would impact your current role?

S: I...was not here in 1933, Brittany.  I wasn't even born. 

As they should be.  They should understand, like everyone else in this great country, that testing is the backbone of education.  If you test well, it means that you're a good student, and simple as that. 

Absolutely not.  I was born a Dominant, I will die a Dominant, and there is no test on Earth I could take that would ever say otherwise.  Sue Sylvester does not fail.

B: Uh-huh.  All of that is a totally interesting theory. 

It's pretty cool to be secure in your role. Would you like to share a fist bump with me on it?

S: A theory?  Brittany, unlike the president I can show you my birth certificate.

 Yes, of course - much more hygienic than a handshake, I believe.

[ * muffled fist bump sounds ] 

B:  Moving on... 

 Any feelings on the class list not including French courses or modeled under typical French curriculum here at Devereux Academy?

S: It's the best decision they could have made.  What was a student in Florida going to need French for?  I'm sure if they wanted to say "I surrender," or ask for cheese and a baguette, they can do that just as easily in a proper language.  And what did their curriculum ever teach them?  How to cut the heads off of women who were only enjoying a delicious piece of cake?

B: OH! Thank you for saying CHEESE.

 [ * buzzer sound ]  

That is the HOT WORD today and lined up perfectly with the fondue pot being just warm enough. Please help yourself. It's my own cheddar gouda blend and there are plenty of dipper items to dip. I recommend the marshmallows... 

The HOT WORD [ * buzzer sound ] brings the focus in on you personally and I have one very burning question for you that I'm sure a ton of our listers who know anything there is to know about you are on the edge of their seats wondering. 

 Is it true that you are legally married to yourself?

S: I haven't had a proper fondue since the seventies.  And now that I think about it, Dick Cheney never did pay for the vegetables.  

[ muffled chewing sounds ]

 [ loud swallow ] 

That is completely true, in fact.  I have some lovely pictures from the ceremony here, if you'd like to look them over.  Isn't that tracksuit stunning?  I mean, it's more me that's stunning than the tracksuit, but still.

B: Wow..it.. it actually is super good looking. Did you save it for any of your daughters to wear at their wedding?

S: Thank you - I'm glad that you can appreciate how tasteful it was.  I did save it, but not for them - it's in a glass case on a mannequin of my exact proportions in my office at home.

B: Oh, right of course. 

I'd like to also ask, since you're solo-married, would you ever consider entering into a long term claim with yourself as well?

S: Oh god no.  I would never wear a collar for anyone, not even myself.  I can't even stomach the thought of it.

B: Thank you for answering those. That was the HOT WORD [ * buzzer sound ] and a dip into Sue Sylvester. 

Now, we're nearing the end of our time here, there are just a few more things I feel we should cover while I have you here. 

As a Legacy I'm sure you're super aware of the type of pressures that can bring but, do you have an idea or a guess of what it might be like for a child of a well known individual like yourself to be wading through gossip and the literal meaning of the word legacy in your wake?

S: Of course - it's been a true pleasure knowing there are talented journalists like yourself on campus, Brittany. 

I have no doubt that it's the most difficult thing in the world to follow someone like me.  Knowing that everyone who looks at them is constantly comparing them to me, wondering when they'll follow in my footsteps and become more like me, I cannot imagine that sort of pressure.  But I trained them, molded them, just like any legacy parent should do, and I believe they're capable.

B: Thank you Sue, I super appreciate you saying that. I'm going to save it as a sound bite to play later. 

You heard it here folks, one Sue Sylvester believes her daughters to be trained an capable. It totally sounds like you're super proud, that's amazing. Speaking of when you were attending though, there is one more personal item my assistant has pointed out to me that I have yet to touch on and I think everyone would like to hear your side... 

I heard that when you were here at Devereux the then Intro to Dominance teacher reportedly had a public breakdown and resigned. Through the help of school records I have tracked down and reached out to said retired teacher and although they sounded ancient like the skeleton from tales from the crypt. They had this to say about it, and I quote:

"I never thought that the devil walked on Earth, and then I met Sue Sylvester.  How Devereux managed to survive her long enough to let her graduate, I'll never know.  That woman tried to kill me on at least three occasions, and whether anyone could prove it or not I know the truth.  She said on day one that I sounded like a Hippo wheezing in a desert, and from then on she had it in for me." 

 Do you have a comment?

S: Oh, them being capable doesn't mean that they'll actually put in the effort. Only that I gave them every tool possible to help them on their way.  What they do with that is up to them. 

 [ sound of Sue, laughing uproariously ] 

I can't believe that old bat hasn't keeled over in her study, surrounded by her little ceramic figurines and being gnawed on by the eighty seven cats I'm sure she owns.  I do have a comment, actually.  Now that the statute of limitations has expired, I'll say that I actually tried to kill her on at least seven different occasions, and she must have missed the other four.  And with the benefit of hindsight, she sounded less like a hippo wheezing than like the musty specter of death in a Vincent Price movie.

B: Seven.  Well. I don't know if legally I should air that but I bet your lawyers will be on it if there is any trouble. 

I also want to take a moment and add a disclaimer here, this podcast or any part of Devereux administration does not condone the use of violence or bullying against their employees. 

Well, that has been a ride. And I'd really like to thank you for taking the time to talk with me and give us your sizzling take on current goings on of our school. 

Before we go, and last of all... off the top you your head, what’s the hottest dish you have to serve up for us? Any context.

S: I, on the other hand, absolutely condone the use of violence.  How else do people learn? 

It's been a genuine pleasure, Brittany, and thank you for doing the good lord's work and getting the news out to your fellow students. 

The hottest dish I've got for you...oh, I've got just the thing.  I bet no one who goes here has ever figured this out, so consider this a Sue Sylvester exclusive.  If you find just the right brick to press on in the library, you can open a secret door.  Inside is a private gym and training facility that I dubbed "the room of pain."  The first one to find it will find a one hundred dollar gift card for Bullwinkle's Restaurant hidden somewhere inside.

B: WOAH. Completely unexpected dish!! You heard it here first people, a treasure hunt on our very own campus is now afoot. 

That was Sue Sylvester, this is Fondue For Two, and I am Brittany S Pierce. 

Signing off.