bitty has outgrown this place, and the people in it.
tw: homophobic language/slurs
word count: 1800
for @stitchedopen, 3rd place winner in my fic giveaway! i hope you like it!
The clinking of Jack’s fork against his plate as he sets it down is very unnerving. It’s not the only sound in the room but it’s by far the loudest, to him at least. Even louder than Suzanne’s pleasant babbling (no wonder where Bitty gets it from) and the gentle lull of music being played on a radio somewhere in another room. Probably the kitchen, where Bitty’s finishing up supper.
There’s a shuffling around the corner and Coach becomes visible as he nears the bottom of the staircase. “Jack,” he mumbles gruffly in greeting, giving him a nod and sitting at the head of the table.
“Hello, Mr. Bittle,” Jack replies, smiling a little. “How’s the season going? Still the reigning champs of Morgan County?” If there’s one thing Jack knows he can get Coach to talk about, it’s football. It might be a much different sport than hockey, Jack surmises, but the passion they share for their sports is more than enough for them to hold a conversation.
“Oh, they lost their first game of the season last week. Nevin’s got an injury and we had to switch around the lineups– you remember, Nevin, receiver, curly hair, he’s in the team picture in the living room– anyway, I’m sure it hurt their chemistry.” Coach would talk strategy with Jack for hours, if it was up to him, but Eric is coming into the dining room now. He’s got on yellow oven mitts with tiny white flowers, and he’s holding a tray with a roast and some vegetables.
“The meat’s a little dry, Lord help me, I should stick to baking,” Eric laughs, setting the tray down on the table. “But all the vegetables should be good and I’ve got some pumpkin muffins with a fantastic cream cheese frosting waiting for us in the kitchen.” Everyone starts to serve themselves. The meat’s not dry at all, but Jack keeps that to himself. Sometimes Bitty needs little things to dwell on, to keep himself busy so he’s not worrying so much about the big stuff. Jack knows that.
“So,” Suzanne starts after a minute, and Jack can tell that this is going to be a long one. He glances up at her, a signal that he’s listening. “The Gardeners are having a potluck this Friday, and they sent us an invitation.”
Bitty nearly drops his fork. “The Gardeners?” he hisses. “As in, Melissa and Kyle?”
“Those Gardeners,” Suzanne replies smugly. Jack and Coach exchange a look, humor gleaming in both of their eyes. The drama is about to unfold, they can tell. “What right do they think they’ve got, inviting us to their potluck after what happened at ours?”
Bitty turns to Jack, waving his hands as he speaks. “Two summers ago, we held a potluck here for the neighborhood, and when the Gardeners showed up, Kyle was drunk as a skunk and knocked over our entire dessert table. The whole thing! It was all ruined! And it would have been okay, but they didn’t even bring anything to the potluck in the first place, and they never apologized, and oh, it was such a mess, everyone tried to act like it wasn’t a big deal but darlin’ you should’ve seen the look on Moomaw’s face, I swear she was on the verge of a heart attack.” He shifts abruptly back toward Suzanne. “Mama, we’ve got to go.”
“Oh, I know that, of course we do. Dicky, what you’ve gotta do is bake the best pie those folks have ever tasted, let them know exactly what they were destroying when they had the nerve-”
Jack hums quietly, making a mental note. Potluck on Friday. Prepare for a spectacle.
Bitty’s fingers press against Jack’s neck as he helps him straighten his collar. Jack doesn’t really need the help, he supposes, but the contact is welcome, brief but full of warmth, not the kind of affection Jack usually gets when they’re with Bitty’s parents. They’ve been trying really hard, Jack can tell, and Bitty has too. But he understands why Eric sometimes has trouble being soft with Jack around Suzanne and Coach.
“Don’t you just look dashing,” Bitty says with a smile, placing his hand flat on Jack’s chest.
“Only because you picked my outfit,” Jack laughs. Bitty laughs with him, nodding in agreement. He’s got little crinkles at the edges of his eyes when he laughs, and Jack rubs his thumb over them, absent minded.
“You ready, Dicky?” Suzanne calls from the kitchen. The noises of the coffee pot stop and Jack can hear her pouring herself a cup.
“All ready!” Bits yells back. He reaches up his hand and squeezes Jack’s wrist before whirling around into the kitchen. Jack watches Bitty’s hips swing as he leaves, his jeans a little tighter than usual since he’s outgrown some of the clothes that he left here during the school year, and wonders if wore them on purpose.
The potluck is bustling. There are people of all ages, from the tiny toddlers playing in the Slip ‘N Slide far left in the back yard to the old ladies knitting underneath the sugar maple next to the house in a comically stereotypical manner. Jack opens Eric’s door for him not out of chivalry but out of necessity– when he emerges from the car, his arms are full of tupperware containers.
“Let me take some, bud” Jack offers, but Bitty shakes his head.
“I’ve got to bring them over myself.”
“This one’s cherry with a lattice crust,” Eric is explaining as he removes the lid from the nearest tupperware container. The egregious Melissa Gardener turns out to be a petite brunette with a smattering of freckles across her upturned nose. “And this one’s pumpkin, I know it’s not really the season but I had some materials left over from the muffins I made the other night and I’m sure it’ll be just delightful, I made the whipped cream myself– now, they’re all desserts. I was sure you’d need some.”
Jack stifles a laugh. The bite in Bitty’s voice is unmistakable. “Where should I set them?” Eric asks, still sweet as sugar but with a lilt that suggests this isn’t an innocent question. “This table seems a little… unsteady. I wouldn’t want them to fall, heaven forbid.”
“This table’s fine,” Melissa ensures him, smiling. “Thank you so much for the contributions.”
“It’s nothing at all.”
They burst out laughing as soon as she leaves, Bitty collapsing into Jack’s chest. Jack’s arms come around him automatically and squeeze. “Bits, that was cold.”
“Really? Here I was, thinking I was being so courteous.”
They stay in the embrace for a few more seconds before Bitty shifts away from Jack. It’s subtle, but Jack understands. He squeezes Bitty’s shoulder and then takes a step away. Bitty’s out to everyone who matters, but some people don’t know. And some still have their prejudices.
“Bits, where’s the bathroom?” Jack asks. The noise is already getting to him. He knows he’s got a while of this to go, and he’s sure he’ll be fine, but he just needs a minute to adjust. Eric points him in the right direction, then goes back to arranging the pies on the table.
“Eric!” Bitty whips around. It’s a tall guy with acne scars in a red polo shirt. Bitty looks up, his face ghostly stricken for a second, then paints a big smile on.
“Hey, Todd,” he replies as the guy moves closer. “How have you been.”
“I’ve been fine, thanks,” Todd says. Eric tugs on the bottom of his shirt and glances over at Jack, entering the house. “Who’s the guy?” Todd asks, nodding toward him.
“Jack,” Eric says. “My… my boyfriend.”
Todd smiles. He turns his gaze to Bitty. “I’ve gotta say, Eric, I’m impressed! I expected you to come home with some twinky faggot in a pink H&M scarf.”
Eric inhales sharply. “Go away,” he says quietly, looking at his shoes. “My love life is none of your business.”
“We all knew you were a homo, Bittle, I guess it’s just a little surprising that you’re still showing your face around here. Are you queers ever gonna stop shoving your agenda in our faces? Huh? Go back to Samwell, eh?” He’s inching closer now, and Eric’s cheeks are flaming red.
“Go fuck yourself,” Eric mutters, turning his back. He unstacks a tin of macadamia nut cookies from his lemon meringue, and opens it. His hands are shaking as he spreads them out artfully.
Todd ignores his response, instead reaching over Bitty and sweeping up several cookies. “Don’t mind if I do,” he says as he stuffs one in his mouth. “Mmm,” he replies, smirking. “They’re a little bit… fruity, don’t you think?”
“That’s not even funny,” Eric rolls his eyes. “Get the hell away from me.”
“And if I don’t?”
There’s a hand on the back of Bitty’s neck and he’s flinching, he’s freezing, he can’t move he can’t breathe–
“If you don’t,” Jack whispers, his voice robotic and cold. “I’ll beat the shit out of you, and you can crawl home to your mother and tell her you got your ass handed to you by a faggot. Does that sound like a good enough reason to stop?”
Todd takes a step back. “Don’t you fucking touch me,” he hisses at Jack. “You’re not from around here, are you? You don’t know who my dad is, do you?”
“Let me guess. Mayor of some town I’ve never heard of? Principal of the local high school? Do you know who my father is, noune?” Jack puffs up his shoulders. “Because I can guaran-fucking-tee that my dad is a hell of a lot worse to mess with than yours. So you might just wanna step off.”
“Whatever. I shouldn’t be talking to y’all anyway. Just in case it’s contagious, you know?” Todd smirks.
“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Jack says, still matter of fact, balling his fists and lunging toward Todd. Todd flinches, but the blow doesn’t come. Bitty’s caught the back of Jack’s t-shirt in his hand.
“Jack, honey, it’s okay. I can handle it.”
“But this– this asshole–”
“Trust me, sweetpea, I’ve got this.” Eric smiles.
“Yeah, you’re sure gonna take care of me, Bittle, what can you weigh, a hundred and ten? I bet you couldn’t even–”
“Pity,” Eric says sweetly as the pie tin slides down Todd’s face, then down his shirt, coating him in cherry filling. “That lattice crust was gorgeous.”
“You– you–” Todd splutters, wiping cherry crud out of his eyes, but Bitty and Jack are already walking away.
“Enjoy the snacks, Melissa,” Eric calls over his shoulder as they make their way to the car. “We’re gonna head out.”
The night of Sunday November 20th, 1983 had been the worst night for x-amount of people. The ripple effect felt through the town of Hawkins, Indiana felt more like a tidal wave when the news spread by the next morning that there was one more youth dead in the quiet town.
It seemed like the majority of the town showed up for Y/N’s funeral. It was obviously a closed casket affair, which seemed to make the whole thing that much worse for her family and Steve.
“We need to tell him,” Nancy whispered to Jonathan from their spot across from Steve. Jonathan gave Nancy a hard look before shaking his head.
“We can’t,” Jonathan whispered back sharply. Nancy’s brows furrowed, her face confused.
“We have to!” She pressed. Jonathan shook his head, his hands deep into his jacket pockets.
“We can’t until we’re absolutely sure. Hopper is still trying to get to the bottom of things, so until we can actually explain what the hell is going on, we should just…let him mourn. Just in case,” This time, it was Nancy that shook her head at what Jonathan said. She turned to face him.
“Just in case? Just in case what? Jonathan, Steve is absolutely torn up about this,” Nancy nodded her head in Steve’s direction. His darkly ringed eyes were starring unseeingly onto the shiny surface of Y/N’s casket as it was lowered. He stood alone, still somewhat exiled from almost everyone considering the rumors that floated around about how he was involved in Y/N’s disappearance. His parents stood a few feet to his left, and her family stood to his right. “He needs to know,”
“And what do we say? ‘Hey, your girlfriend might still be alive and that is 100% not her body in that casket’? Does that sound sane to you, Nancy? Because it was proven to us and I still can’t believe it,” Nancy’s jaw set and Jonathan could tell that she was biting her tongue. “Look, I’m not trying to be a dick. I know you’re trying to do the right thing, but how do you think he’s going to react to that?”
“It can’t be any worse than how he’s reacting now,”
A/N: This chapter has been the hardest piece of writing I’ve written to date, you guys. I spent four days straight wrestling with this one. All I am going to say is, hold your breath.
“You’re going to get him out of there,” You stared into Kyungsoo’s deep, emotionless black pools. “Right?”
Kyungsoo faced you slowly, meeting your gaze with one that turned your blood stone cold. His face remained void of all sympathy as he turned his back to you and walked away.
Everyone’s heads turned. You found yourself in shock of the volume and desperation in your voice. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you continued.
“You are going to get him out of there.” You lowered your voice, asserting yourself as Kyungsoo continued to walk away from you.
Your blood was boiling as Kyungsoo continued to ignore you. You stalked up to him, hands balled into fists at your side as you caught up to him and halted in front of his path. Kyungsoo was determined, however, and brushed past you with ease.
“Kyungsoo!” You gaped at him in shock. “You have to do something!”
This caused him to stop in his tracks, his face still facing you as he spoke.
“I am doing something,” He growled, the air around him vibrating with a threatening aura. “And that something is going to keep the clan alive.”
Your anger could not longer be controlled, and you ran up to him, grabbing his arm and forcing him to look you in the eye. “And by something you mean you are going to let him die.”
The air was tight between the two of you as his stone-cold stare bore straight into your own, yet you refused to back down.
“The clan is my priority.” Kyungsoo deadpanned. “Nothing else matters.”
As Kyungsoo turned around to walk away from you again, you gripped his elbow. Kyungsoo froze, taking in a vehement breath in frustration. You could tell his patience was wearing dangerously thin.
You didn’t care.
“Chanyeol is your leader.” You dropped your voice, your tone conveying the seriousness of the situation, as well as your stance on it. “You can’t just leave him.”
Kyungsoo’s jaw clenched as he threw off your grip on his arm. His head turned to stare down at you, his expression sending shivers down your spine.
this is entirely inspired by the fact that my car picked up a nearby university’s radio station and i fell in love with the host who kept playing indie bangers i’ve never heard and had a really cute voice but here’s a stozier radio host au:
WNG108 is the newly created radio station broadcasted and run by the students of the university of southern maine and while there are multiple hosts, it’s primarily hosted by founders beverly marsh and richie tozier ( spotify playlist link here)
they’re known on the airwave as “bev and trashmouth” or “slut and the falcon” depending on which one is talking at the moment
stan’s a commuter student who lives roughly thirty minutes from campus and uses his aux to blast his music; he was never much of a radio guy
cue to halloween and stan’s the dd for his friends as they bar hop and frat hop (him and ben using fakes because they aren’t 21 yet); on the drive back to the dorms bill proclaims stan’s music is lame and turns on the radio to the college station
they catch the tale end of a song before a nasally voice (probably the most irritating voice stan has ever heard) chimes in with “and that was something here by day wave! thank you for tuning into wang─ ouch, stop hitting me─” and he’s abruptly cut off by a feminine voice clarifying “our station isn’t called wang; trashmouth just thinks he can talk his into existence” before playing the next song
it’s a female cover of rebel rebel and everyone in the car is singing along (stan is singing, everyone else is teetering between slurring and screaming)
the next day when stan turns on his car to drive back home the radio instantly comes on and a chill indie song he doesn’t recognize is playing so he leaves it on instead of immediately switching to his aux
( he shazams it before driving off; it’s milk by the 1975 )
stan ends up switching over to the radio almost entirely. there’s still times when he’ll plug in his aux but for the most part, he’s addicted to WNG108; they play his exact kind of music and music he never considered would be his kind
they also have hilarious segments; the main hosts are bev, trashmouth, eddie, and mike (stan isn’t sure if they’ve just never said trashmouth’s actual name or if he hadn’t been paying attention when they did) who have a kind of chemistry and banter that once had stan pulling over from laughing
trashmouth in particular is fucking hilarious and stan’s basically in love with him
bill figures this out pretty easily when they regularly listen to WNG108 and stan kinda smiles at all of trashmouth’s jokes and has said, on multiple occasions, “he’s got such a cool voice” (among “everything he plays is so good” “this guy is my musical soul mate” and laughing at obscure references trashmouth makes that no one else gets)
one day as stan’s listening to WNG108 while bird watching (because not all fucking birds fly south in the winter, bill, god) he hears bev during a quick call segment she’s doing with mike about missed connections: “we got our first caller on the line; what’s your missed connection?” “it’s actually not m-mine,” bill says and stan immediately knows it’s bill and wonders if bill’s calling in about ben’s obvious crush on bev “my friend’s literally in love with trashmouth” ben’s in love with trashmouth??? what ???? and then it becomes apparently obvious that bill isn’t talking about ben at all he’s talking about STAN and holy shit stan is going to fucking kill him
this is also when stan’s basically forced to acknowledge that yeah he has a major fucking crush on trashmouth and now the entire campus knows (granted the most they know is that a guy named stan likes trashmouth and stan doesn’t know many people outside his small friend group, so he should be relatively safe)
stan and bill basically kick the shit out of each other verbally while ben watches, eyes wide, like a kid caught in the middle of a divorce
“i’m doing you a F-F-F-FAVOR” “I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT HE LOOKS LIKE” “oh s-s-so now you’re shallow?” back and forth type of shit and eventually they run out of steam and stan quietly says “this isn’t even gonna go anywhere. they probably get calls like that all the time.”
“this is kind of like sleepless in seattle” and ben forces the three of them into a blanket fort in his and bill’s room to watch the movie and shoot the shit until stan’s alright again
the next fucking day ( a friday ) as stan, bill, and ben are driving to stan’s to study for finals, stan absentmindedly turns on the radio just in time to catch
“this next song’s for stan the man, if you’re listening to wang and wanna get to know my wang,” before friday i’m in love by the cure plays and all three of them are fuckin SHOCKED !!! BITCH !!!!
they’re all shook™ and as soon as the song ends trashmouth and eddie get into it “ur friend said u like the cure” “why are they called the cure … what are they the cure-ing…” “i’m trying to pick someone up eds stop ruining it” “they should be called THE CAUSE!!!!”
ben and bill are fucking SCREAMING and ben’s got WNG108 on fucking speed dial and they answer him ON AIR
“i don’t have a request but i’m in the car with stan right now and he’s in love” and if stan wasn’t such a safe driver he would’ve turned around and fucking throttled ben and then eddie replies, ON AIR, “trashmouth looks like someone killed him most of the time but he’s smiling really big─ DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH ME” and the call drops as the next song immediately plays and boi bill and ben are SCREAMING
“HE LIKES YOU” “YOU HAVE TO MEET” “he doesn’t even know what i look like” “OH SO YOU’RE INS-S-SECURE NOW?” among other shit
it goes on like that for a few more days; each time trashmouth hosts he dedicates a song to “stan the man” and the night after their last finals and celebrating, stan gets drunk enough to think calling in is a good idea (with the aid of bill and ben egging him on of course)
“hullo” and bev says “what’s up, mystery man” just as trashmouth says “you should call eddie’s mom with that phone sex voice” and stan kind of trips over his words saying that he’s really fuckin’ drunk right now but he has a spotify playlist with a bunch of songs trashmouth has dedicated to him
bev cuts him off like “wait YOU’RE STAN???” and now she’s screaming too and gushing about how incessantly trashmouth talks about him and how he has a spotify playlist dedicated to him and how he’s been waiting on a call from him because he’s stalked half the school’s instagrams and can’t find stan anywhere (stan only has a meme instagram) and this and that before trashmouth’s cutting in smiling so huge stan can hear it in his voice like “can i play you a song” and stan says yeah and then holding roses by twin peaks is floating through out the dorm room and stan’s heart is beating so loud against his chest he can hear it
the problem is that winter break starts after that and everyone goes home for about a month and a half and WNG108 falls in the hands of a few local students and stan was too anxious and embarrassed to call in and ask about trashmouth like bill and ben wanted him to
so about a month goes by before the temp hosts announce that WNG108 is on snapchat now and to add them for behind the scenes shit and other fun stuff
stan misses this announcement because he hasn’t been listening to the radio much; he’s been working a lot over break
ben doesn’t miss the announcement, however, and immediately sends the info through their groupchat so they all add WNG108
a week before classes start, bill and ben move back into their dorm as do most of the students
stan just got off work two his phone blown up with screenshots from the WNG108 snapchat of a girl with red hair and green eyes who’s apparently bev (and ben and bill talking about ben asking her out somehow without being creepy like find her on tinder or something)
stan watches the snap; it’s mostly of bev and eddie who are hosting tonight but halfway through (which is what ben and bill blew his phone up about) eddie’s saying “stan, if you’re watching, this one’s for you” before playing pictures of you by the cure
their university story is filled with people talking about it; apparently over the past few weeks since stan and trashmouth’s first “encounter” (aka the drunken call) people have become … invested in the relationship ???
a couple of days before class starts, on a friday, stan’s phone is blown the fuck up once more because trashmouth has posted a video of himself at a local diner; friday i’m in love is playing over the sound of college kids and the snap reads “they’re playing our song stan the man”
curly black hair and freckles, glasses taped together, and he’s wearing a sherpa jacket over a hawaiian shirt
livewires snap and crack under stan’s skin sending electric currents pulsing through his veins holy shit holy shit holy shit trashmouth is perfect
students are posting stories to the university snapchat with him (including one girl enthusiastically yelling “stan come get your man!”) and #StanGetYourMan starts trending locally on twitter
bill adds fuel to the fire by posting a video to the campus story saying “hi i’m bill i started this shit and i’m gonna end it” and a subsequent snap of him and ben en route to the diner
because bill and ben are incredibly good friends and know that stan would probably freeze if he had to walk into a crowded diner full of college kids WAITING ON HIS ARRIVAL to meet the love of his life
stan’s checking the campus snap story and twitter incessantly; there are videos of trashmouth and tweets about people waiting and ben has to clarify that he isn’t stan when people assume that he is since he’s in tow with bill
bill tells stan to get his ass over to the radio room and stan’s hands are shaking as he gets in the car; he drives slow as shit because of it
mike posts a selfie of himself, eddie, trashmouth, and bev sat at the diner waiting #StanGetYourMan
he’s the one to spill the beans on trashmouth’s name in an excited video posted zooming in on trashmouth looking towards the entrance of the diner with mike’s voice in the background saying “richie’s buggin the fuck out bro haha”
bill and ben get there (and yes ben’s awestruck by bev) and are basically greeted like kings and bill tells them that stan’s probably freaking out and that they’ve gotta meet tonight but on their own and mike immediately jumps into action, standing on a table like “WATCH OUT FOR THE WNG108 SNAP IN THE NEXT HOUR; STAN’S GONNA COME GET HIS MAN” and the energy in the room is WILD
richie goes with bill and the two walk across campus to the radio room
he tells the students hosting WNG108 that night to go home so he and bill sit in there, spinning tracks and shooting the shit
occasionally richie’s running his mouth in nervousness over the air and stan has to turn off the radio station before he has a heart attack
stan hasn’t gotten there yet and they sit talking for a while; bill’s telling him all about stan and richie’s bouncing his legs and walking around the room and tapping beats into the wall
bill gets a text. “here.” from stan and lets richie know he’s outtie and if richie hurts stan he’ll kick his ass and richie believes him
ten minutes later, a photo is posted onto the WNG108 snapchat. it’s a selfie, with richie holding the phone out, smiling so big his cheeks must hurt, holding up his and stan’s intertwined hands and stan’s mid eye roll.
Summary: The reader is unable to spend Valentine’s day with Jungkook because she her boss needs her to close the cafe she works at. Jungkook, being an adorable boyfriend, decides to go over and make the most of their night.
You stuck your soggy mop-head in the yellow bucket and rolled your way towards the back of the cafe until you collided with a podium. Having very little control over the hole thing as it was, the loose wheel on the right side had become your nemesis of the night. Well that and your awful fate.
It was Valentines Day and instead of spending it with the man you loved, your boyfriend Jungkook, you were moping up dirty floors at the cafe you worked at.
It wasn’t really your fault as you had booked the day off but it wasn’t really your boss’ fault either as he had to be with his wife who was in labour. When he had told you he needed you to take the shift, you were fairly disappointed. You had planned to go on a picnic with Jungkook, who was equally disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to spend time with you.
You sighed looking out the clear glass doors and windows at the front of the store. It was 12am but cars we’re still passing by consistently. Probably couples returning home from lovely dates, you thought.
You sighed again heavily and moved your cart to the supply room in the back. You tried to focus on the sound of the radio in the other room. You hummed along to an Ed Sheeran song as you washed your hands and made your way to a pantry to get some ingredients. You had to sit the dough over-night.
When you came back into the front of the store you nearly dropped all of the ingredients in your hands. There standing outside was Jungkook in a very adorable Chef’s outfit, holding various pink signs and a picnic basket.
He smiled at you and you laughed; you couldn’t believe he was really there. You moved towards the glass and yelled, “Baby! I’m so happy to see you. But you know I can’t let you in after hours.”
Jungkook shook his head smirking. He put down the basket he was holding and turned around the first sign he was holding dramatically. You laughed when you read, “Need a Job, experienced in loving.”
He then whipped out another sign, this one reading; “Strengths: Stamina” He used the paddle to cover half his face and raised his eyebrows at you suggestively making you laugh hysterically. Then he pulled out another paddle, this one made you smile and reach for your keys to unlock the door.
As soon as there was no longer a barrier between the two of you, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. He immediately responded by putting his arms around your waist and lifting you up a bit so that your feet were barely touching the ground. After what felt like a blissful forever, you pulled back and said, “You’re hired.”
Jungkook laughed. “I better be. How many employees bring picnic dinners?” He lifted up the basket waved it at you and you giggled, pulling him in behind you. After locking the door, you turned around to see Jungkook setting up the picnic he’d packed. He had a red blanket that he placed a box of pizza on, by the smell of it you knew it was your favorite, barbecue chicken. You hummed and moved to stand behind his knelt figure and placed a kiss on his temple. He placed a strawberry cheesecake on the blanket and two electric candles.
“This is amazing, Jungkook.” You whispered.
“Is it now?” He turned around and pulled you into his lap for a kiss. You kept kissing him as he laid you down on the blanket. It went on like that for awhile, his body resting on top of yours and your lips moving in sync together.
Jungkook pulled back just enough so that his nose brushed against your own. “You have something on your nose.” he said seriously. You blushed immediately, “I do?”
“You do now!” He swiped some cheesecake on your nose and pulled back. “Oh, you are so on!” You took a swipe of the cheesecake but Jungkook skillfully dogged it. Laughing, he grabed your had to make you add yet another swipe of cake on your face.
You looked over at him and pouted, “Wow.. on Valentine’s Day too?” You pursed your lips at him and his laughter got even more high pitched as he rolled on the blanket clutching his stomach. “You-you look so funny!” He said in between laughs.
You turned to face away from him and sighed dramatically. “I think this calls for a termination.”
Jungkook got up and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you back into his lap. “It’ll never happen again.” He said, his voice even now.
You turned to face him over your shoulder, ‘Really?”
“No,” he said wiping cheesecake on your lips this time. “Jungkook!-” You were cut off by his lips back on yours again before you could scold him.
The rest of the night was spent eating, kissing laughing but hardly any working.
Hello.. This was really fun to write. I hope you enjoyed it! Happy Valentines Day!
Under the Mistletoe (Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader)
request: cute holiday one shot request: billy or steve, don’t care which one, but decorating for christmas with pda and fluff and cuddles and touching and cuteness and kisses and i just ugh i need this ❤️ merry christmas eve eve!! thanks in advance!
Steve’s year had been rough. Admittedly better than the previous year, when Nancy broke up with him, he missed early application, and then was rejected to two of the colleges to which he had applied. Though he wanted to get out of Hawkins, he decided to stay another two years, first attending a community college and transfering later to a four year. Things had not gone as he had planned.
He moved out of his parents house, getting a small apartment on the other side of town. He got a job at the supermarket and did his best to keep up with his classes. But he was overwhelmed. “Maybe I’m not cut out for college,” he confessed to you. “What do I know? I’m a stupid kid. I’m not going anywhere.”
It broke your heart to hear him say something so mean about himself. You reminded him over and over of his intelligence and drive. You didn’t want to force him to stay in school, but you knew he was capable. You knew he would succeed at whatever career he decided to pursue.
“Stay for the rest of the year, at least.” You’d tried to reason with him. “If you really believe it’s not for you, then you can leave at the end of this school year.” Steve had agreed.
But it wasn’t all bad.
Steve had made some really good friends at his junior college. He was more himself than he had been living at home with his parents. He loved living on his own. His relationship with Dustin grew stronger, and he spent as much time at your house as you did at his. And of course, there was you. Steve had fallen in love with his best friend.
@avengerstories - I think this part will forever be my favorite one in the series just because you edited it while sitting right next to me, instead of on the other side of the country.
The air is filled with the sound of music and the smell of food being cooked. The music might be a little too loud and the strong aroma of food is making your stomach growl, but there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.
“Why does Wanda get to pick what we listen to today,” Natasha whines from her spot at the counter where she’s cutting a cucumber.
“Because you chose last time,” Wanda counters. Stirring a pot at the stove leaves her in the perfect position to reach for the radio and raise the volume even louder. Natasha winces and you laugh, finding amusement in all of this.
“I thought girls’ night was supposed to make me happy, not make me wish I was anywhere but here,” the redhead complains. You ignore her, knowing she doesn’t mean it.
So yeah, I said that I was going to hold off writing anything else before Chapter 3 came out but here we are again, pfft. Just can’t help myself, I guess.
I really wanted to explore the whole bond idea between Henry and Bendy because it was just too interesting to /not/ write about it. So once again, this story is inspired by the 2D Bendy AU created by @shinyzango, go check out her amazing art!
You didn’t think I’d let you spend Christmas alone, did you?
Fandom: Star Wars - Modern AU Characters: Poe Dameron x Reader Word Count: 1,260 Warnings: None, Fluffy Fluff, Maybe tears? Sorry… a little.
[Posting the first of the Forty-Five Holiday Stories shorts here, the rest will be over at AO3. Holiday prompt ideas credit goes to @theo-stilinski via this post.]
Christmas Eve. Waist deep snow everywhere. Unforgiving gusts of cold air sweep through the
The bus you’re on screeches to a halt at your stop,
and you ready yourself as best as you can before getting off; pulling your
scarf over your nose and your coat as tight as possible. Even so, the freezing
air hits you like a brick wall and you -quite
literally- stand frozen for a moment. You are barely able to mumble a “thank
you” and a “Merry Christmas” to the bus driver, but somehow you
manage; and he, in return, bids a half-smiled “Happy Holidays” your
way before closing the doors.
I kinda have this headcanon that even after Draco and Harry have been tigether for some years they would still be the main story in the Witch Weekly or something and the magazines would be full of little stories about them. The thing is, those little stories would mostly be fake but everyone, especially the couole would enjoy them dearly.
Now, on of the biggest stories about them would come around Christmas when everyone would need to have their inetrview between their pages and most of the questions, or at least the most important questions would be how they manage to have such a perfect Christmas.
I strongly believe that Draco and Harry would do everything possible to make themselves the best Christams couple out there with the most stylish decorations and presents and clothes (Draco would have their entire December outfits planned months in advance).
And they would attend many galas and balls and Christmas parties and still have their own on Christmas eve and then a comfortable, intimate, private diner for only close friend on Christams day. And shortly, their Christams would seem like a fairytale or some very traditional Christams rom-com.
And of course it would only seem that way to everyone that wrote about their magical Christmas and every reporter was allowed to see just that part of the story but in reality their Christmas was a huge, stressful mess.
And yes they would start preparing everything in October but somehow they would always end up in a rush and stressed out and they often fought because they had no time and they had to stay longer in the office but they had to attend a party they were already heavily late to. And they rarely spent any quality time together in those weeks before Christmas and it drove them crazy and it was the worst.
But they knew it was worth it when the Weasleys left after Christmas dinner and they slowely washed the dishes together, tired, with soft music whispering from a radio in the living room. And there was no more rush, no more galas, no more reporters. And when they finished they would cuddle together on the couch with spiced wine and some clishe Christmas movie and soft kisses and a warm blanket over them.
And it was worth it because they felt like they have done the best they could to make everyone believe that they have the best Christams of them all.
And let me say this: while cuddling together on that couch and slowly falling asleep in each other’s arms with soft, blurry lights of their tree falling over them, they really did have the best Christams that they could ever imagine.
Description- Honestly it’s based completely off a (joke) YouTube video I watched during my demon phase that I’m honestly still trying to find a logical solution for. Honestly.
Warnings- Uh, sex? I really don’t know what to put for this when it’s already obviously smut
Word Count- 1020
Notes-I have no clue why I’m writing more smut the last one was shit I guess I’ve just had this idea in my head way too long also there may or may not be an appropriately timed reference if you squint…
It was but another radio show. It was but another album countdown with Jameela. Dan was bored of it. He loved his job, but he sometimes wished he could spice it up a bit. Then he got an idea.
Dan gazed up at the clock on the wall. There was but ten minutes before they had to be out with Jameela. Was that enough time? He didn’t really care. He wanted to try something new and interesting. Maybe even something a bit dangerous. This definitely ticked off all of those boxes.
Phil was sitting on the same couch as Dan, staring at his phone. The younger boy leaned over and pressed his lips to Phil’s, who gasped in his mouth before warming up to the kiss. Dan climbed into his lap, causing another gasp by Phil. Dan moved his mouth down to Phil’s neck, and Phil, free to speak, voiced concern.
“Dan, we’re on in ten minutes.”
“Better speed this up then.” Dan unzipped Phil’s black jeans and pulled them off, followed almost immediately by his boxers. Dan took Phil in his mouth as he pulled off his own jeans and boxers, feeling Phil get harder with every passing second. Dan let go of Phil and got onto all fours on the floor, glancing back at Phil in anticipation.
“You do know we don’t have any lube or condoms, don’t you?” Dan nodded. “And that we’re literally supposed to be out there with Jameela in five minutes now?”
The younger boy nodded yet again, this time with a smirk. “Try new things.” And with that, Phil was on the floor with Dan. He carefully inserted his cock into Dan’s incredibly tight asshole. Dan was immediately overcome with pain, and he winced. Phil stopped, feeling Dan’s shivers, but the younger boy signaled for him to continue, and he did.
Every second was like another level of hell for Dan, but the pain was tolerable, and Dan wanted to continue. Eventually Dan got used to the pain. “Harder.” Phil thrust harder and faster, and Dan began to quietly moan. He was in even more pain than he had been earlier, but by this point he was almost enjoying it.
Phil finally hit Dan’s prostate, causing both of them to come. Dan moaned loudly, and Phil immediately attempted to quiet him down. “Shh… Remember where we are.” Dan took a quick moment to do so. He had somehow convinced Phil to fuck him in the middle of the radio station green room. It was an impulse they both foolishly gave into, but Dan didn’t regret it. He looked around the room, out of breath, until his eyes finally focused on the clock on the wall. They were supposed to be with Jameela five minutes ago.
“Oh my god, Phil.” Dan pointed at the clock with horror, and Phil gasped.
“Hurry, hurry!” They pulled on their boxers and jeans as quickly as they could and dashing out the door.
“Phil, wait!” Dan was limping. The lack of lube was still causing him a lot of pain, and trying to run was very difficult.
“Come on!” Phil ran to the set as quickly as he could, Dan trailing as close behind as possible. A few seconds after Phil, Dan hobbled on and sat down on the couch beside him. Jameela was already talking to them, attempting to scold them for their tardiness.
“Your mics are off. Sit there in silence, I’ll deal with you later.” Phil adorably put his hands to his mouth, and Dan hovered his hand over his boyfriend’s knee for a second before realizing they were on the air. Dan tuned out for a minute before noticing the music change. He heard the Arctic Monkeys album and then noticed Jameela addressing him and Phil again. “I am sweating! I’ve been left here!”
“Can they hear us now?” Dan spoke into the microphone and could immediately tell he was finally being broadcast over the airwaves.
“They can hear you.”
“Do you want to know an interesting fact?” Dan wanted to do anything to get the topic off him and Phil. He didn’t know how he would explain if she asked where they were.
Jameela was obviously not amused. Dan, however, continued his fact.
“They are the first independent artist to have five consecutive number one albums in the UK. Album chart facts by Dan!” He was speaking, of course, of the Arctic Monkeys. He then sang the last part, hoping it would take attention away from their late appearance. It unsurprisingly didn’t.
“Where the hell were you?”
There was one thing Dan’s random chatter did for him. It gave him time, and he’d finally thought of a completely truthful excuse. “We were just in another room but they didn’t…” Dan stuttered, trying to find the right words while being put on the spot. “No one came to get us. We were like, ‘Oh, we must be in ten minutes, but…’”
“Everyone came to get you!” At this point, Dan was slightly confused, as nobody did come to get them. Maybe they had been repelled by Dan’s odd moaning sounds, or the couple couldn’t hear them. Either way, it was probably Dan’s fault.
While Dan was attempting to create a theory in his mind as to what happened, Phil took the microphone out of his hand. “We were lost.” Dan started laughing, knowing this completely contradicted what he had just said. “I’m sorry,” Phil added. What a mess.
“You were lost in a tiny building?”
“I tried to get a chocolate downstairs and I couldn’t get out the door.”
“I knew it. I knew there was sugar involved.” Dan turned towards the camera and flashed the signature facial expression, reading ‘this is my boyfriend, the spork, and that’s yet another innuendo he’ll never live down.’ Although he technically wasn’t that wrong. Dan let Phil keep the microphone. He didn’t really want to talk anyway. At that point, all Dan wanted to do was gaze into the distance and reflect on his horrible choices of the day. And, oh, were there many of them.