i owe you a black eye and two kisses; michael robinavitch x f! emergency medicine resident!reader
robby takes time off of work, you call in a favor just to skip family christmas dinner. robby gives in to years of pining and unrelenting frustration, only for it to not go exactly as planned.
warnings: divorce mention, reader celebrates christmas in name only, catholic guilt (i’m self serving), robby is a secular jew, reader is lapsed catholic (technically speaking + twin + this can pertain to any abrahamic religion; jewish/muslim/christian), arguing, brief talk of fertility, readers self-identity crisis, COVID PROTOCOLS BEING BROKEN, dry humping session (such a beautiful thing), fingering, ROBBY IS AN EATER. reader feels like a second choice, alcohol, slight hint of penis envy,. age gap: robby is 49, reader is 27 (3rd/4th year resident). set in 2020 (THE END OF 2020… which i blacked out because i was turning 15 and stuck at home :3).
word count: 3.2k
notes: this is very self-serving. personally, i don’t know pennsylvania’s covid protocols because i’m californian, we had one of the strictest in the country and still got hit very hard. but i do know we were the first to go into lockdown + new york & jersey. i curse a lot in this fic on purpose btw. fuck is my preferred word for emphasis. also, there’s a tidbit in this inspired by how i met your mother where they call in favors “no questions asked”, i know for SURE the reader and jack are tallied high with robby’s no questions asked. i listened to this while writing.
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The last time you saw your dad, you were 17 waiting for him to bring the family car back from whatever errand he told you he was going to run so you could get to soccer practice that started in 5 minutes. Since then your parents got divorced, remarried, you’ve moved on with your life.
Until your mom decided to have a blended Christmas without the disclaimer when she told you a week ago about how they wanted to throw a get together for Christmas. You had the whole week off, Gloria insisted she didn’t want a write up from the labor union as to why you, Jack, Robby, Heather, and Samira were logging far too many hours. She almost thought you all collectively goofed her by not clocking out, though the exhaustion on your faces said otherwise. In the spirit of Christmas, that Friday you decided you had no other choice than to waste your time with people you grew up with rather than sitting on your couch staring at a wall.
Only to be greeted with pure and utter fucking chaos.
“Did Mom say she was going to invite Joseph’s kids? And Dad and Lauryn?” you asked Ezra as you both stood at the wall, nursing a beer bottle on your hands as his kids screamed through the townhome. Despite your judgments on his parenting, on how your parents parented him, you still confided in your brother.
“When she said Joseph I assumed she was drunk and was talking about seeing Jesus again” he sighed, taking a swig of beer, “Any update on the fuckass loser— hey what happened to that dude you were seeing?”.
Ezra knew distantly about Damien, when you told him two years ago and there was a Damien to know about.
“We broke up in February” you deadpanned. Silently you thought to yourself that you were grateful for the near death experience you inflicted, despite the brain cells that died, you were grateful to one, survive, two, not be tied down to the idea of always needing affection to be validated in your worth.
You noticed Lauryn from across the room on the living room couch, cuddled up next to your father. She was only two years older than you. The boys saw your dad with some respect, thinking he was owed that for “bagging a younger woman”. But you noticed something was off, she kept on gagging like she had acid reflux and repeatedly rubbing her belly out of instinct. Oh god.
You exasperated out a sigh, knowing tonight was going to be long, your mom’s heat flashes and repeated lash outs in the kitchen towards Joseph, her financier fiancé who was her age with two daughters your brother’s age and a son your age who repeatedly had insane outbursts towards his father’s money. Your dad’s disgusting displays of affection to a woman that was closer in age to you and exhibited signs of being pregnant. Ezra, drinking beer after beer instead of helping his pregnant wife with his kids. Romeo nowhere to be found, probably getting another DUI on your mom’s car insurance.
It was a weird feeling. You went to undergrad, medical school, and a residency about to be a fellow, all before you reached your 30s yet you found yourself comparing your life to your brother’s and feeling somewhat delayed? In some strange way you wondered what life would be like without medical school, if you chose a different profession, would you be in their life stage? Married with kids, even if it was a shit marriage toppled with kids who couldn’t read or write but loved their iPad and YouTube that should be on. They felt like the epitome of freedom, being a man, felt free.
You still shook the feeling off, you make a shit salary in comparison to their blue collar jobs for now. You got to save lives, connect with people, that was worth more than the payroll check you’d receive monthly.
When dinner rolled over, the array of food and heat radiated through the dining room, you could feel the sweater dress you wore with the turtleneck start to cling to your skin as you perspired beneath it. Feeling like your mom going through menopause with the heat and loudness.
“Lauryn and I have an announcement before we.. begin eating this lovely food made for us, compliments to my ex-wife” your father joked, your niece slightly whining beside you as she had to wait to eat now. On top of the table, he grabbed Lauryn’s hand, engulfing it, “We have decided to expand… Lauryn is pregnant” he dropped the news as almost all your jaws dropped in response.
Bile rose from your throat, leading you to gag and Romeo to point at you, “Looks like Y/n is too!” he laughed. How the hell is this even a laughing matter? The man is going to be teetering 80 by the time the baby is 18, if he makes it. Not to mention his grandchildren are older than the child.
“We are so proud of you guys for taking this next step” Joseph took your mom’s hand as she stared at you with a shocked yet amused look, “I’m sure all of us at the table can agree”.
This had to be a hazing ritual. Had to be.
“I need a minute” you spoke up as the heat was vehemently constricting you, the nausea overcoming you.
Running directly outside to throw up over your mom’s porch stairs. You reached over at your phone realizing it was barely 8 pm and if you were to stick it out for another 4 hours until presents, you’re going to be needing a whole bottle of wine and six shots of tequila just to consider staying. You could’ve called Dana, knowing her family was normal in their festivities, her children were nice and they cooked good food. Jack always spent Christmas with his wife’s family out in Maine. But you remembered distantly of dropping off Jack in the exact same neighborhood when he was staying with Robby. So you chose Robby as a safe haven.
The faint memory was the fact that his townhome was the only one with dark brown brick rather than traditional red. It was the only townhome in the row with a lack of decorations. Speed walking up the stairs, turbulently knocking on the door. There was a moment when you thought maybe he was out with family, then you remember seeing his bat mitzvah photo courtesy of him losing a bet with Jack. Upon seeing the porch light flick on and the rattling of the door lock on the other side of the door, you quickly collected yourself as the door swung open.
“Can I borrow a toothbrush?” you blurted, Robby’s hair looked disheveled, he had his glasses and pajamas on. It was the first time in a week since you’ve seen him, “No questions asked– you owe me a ‘no questions asked’” you continued.
He nodded, moving out of the doorframe to let you in, taking you in as his vision regained clarity from being abruptly woken up. Your sweater dress, beige, contoured your body perfectly, your hip dips brought emphasis to your curves. The dark brown heeled boots that fell a tad short and clacked against his hardwood floor, the brown-black fishnet, double lined stockings that clung to your legs. For a moment, he thought you had just come from a date.
“There's a pack of spares in the bathroom of my room, upstairs, first door to the right” his voice rasped, he needed water badly, “Do you need clothes too or…?” he offered, scratching the back of his neck, his arm raising led for his t-shirt to elevate, his happy trail partly on display.
“Yes please” you spoke formally, you’ve never been in his house. You were seeing a whole new Robby, one that surprisingly turned you on when he wasn’t in a sterile environment and under lights that washed even the hottest person alive out. You were beginning to understand Heather.
“Just go in my closet, water?” he asked as you began walking towards the carpeted stairs. There were photos of him and Jake, Jack and him, one photo you don’t even remember taking with Robby and Monty. It wasn’t a sterile, typical, bleak, bachelor pad, it was his home.
“It’s okay” you told him as you ran upstairs, your heel almost catching on the carpeted steps.
Robby’s room was warm, a plasma screen overlooking the bed, a plush and clean carpet beneath your heels, Cal King bed with dark red bedding, it smelt like santal and wintergreen. It was cozy, neat, and uniquely Robby. His en-suite was tiled black and grey, Aesop and Le Labo products in the shower and vanity, he had a damn state-of-the-art bidet. Underneath the sink, you grabbed a spare toothbrush, black all over, some niche toothpaste in the toothbrush holder. The literal luxury made you hot inside? Robby was a man who took care of himself– physically that is.
Fresh teeth and slightly oily makeup, you took the brush, knowing he wouldn’t need it. Trekking to his walk-in closet with suits lined on one side, casual clothes on the other. You grabbed his Pittsburgh beer zip-up and pajama pants that were folded on the stool, carefully undressing, removing your bra and feeling relief instantly as red marks were forming on your back.
Going downstairs, Robby was mixing batter with a fucking KitchenAid. You took a breath, gaining his attention, he was slightly stunned, you looked mundane yet sexy in his clothes to him, he moved his legs slightly, trying to appease the strain that was brewing.
“My dad’s pregnant” you defeatedly spoke up, gaining a furrowed brow from Robby.
“Did he defy the laws of anatomy?”.
You choked out a laugh, “His wife, Lauryn is two years older than me and she’s pregnant” you confessed, “I vomited on my mom’s porch”.
“Well that’ll ruin any Christmas” he chuckled, “You still like brownies?”.
“Of course” you smiled, “I’m sorry if I was intruding–”.
“I didn’t have anything planned” he shrugged, looking up at you from the KitchenAid. Jesus. You clamped your legs just from the gaze, Robby noticed the notion yet said nothing but stored it in his memory.
You sat down on the barstool tucked into the island, moving your hair out of your face. The silence was thick and deafening. You never mentioned the mishap in August, to be fair, Robby had blacked out the memory and you had that memory flow through your head far too much for comfort. The sleep he has gotten from his time off, has done him justice. The ministrations of his hands led the muscles of his forearm and bicep to flex as he was working on the brownies. You crossed your legs above another, putting pressure on your clit beneath the pants, wondering why you were acting this way.
Logically, you unlocked your phone, logged into your period tracker and immediately saw you were on your peak ovulation day. Check and point. Chemically, your brain wanted you to fuck Robby, rationally, you knew that could ruin things as they were just getting good. But sex was far too tempting, and the pressure was just increasing.
You gulped as Robby stepped towards his cupboards to get a nonstick pan. You felt daring almost, getting off of the barstool and walking up to him as he crouched down looking for the pans. His knees made a pop, he let out a breath as he got a pan, you were directly behind him, feeling like a fucking creep almost. As he turned around, you made your move, grabbing the pan as he was just about to set it down and setting it down for him, your eyes locked onto him, pleading for something, anything. The heat pooling in between your legs was becoming unbearable.
You stood there looking into each other’s eyes until your hand reached up and wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a concupiscent kiss, one where you were fighting for dominance just as much as you were submitting to his touch. Your lower body grinded against his cock that was hardening against your clothed heat, a moan left his throat, satisfying you as you grinded more and more. He breathed you in, all of you in as the oven beeped signaling it was done preheating.
He pulled away briefly in order to transfer the batter to pan and pan to oven, yet the whimper that escaped your mouth, the demanding “No” was enough to send him into a frenzy. Your lips crashing into each other once more as you unzipped his sweater that was covering your naked torso, his throat mustered out a groan as he kneaded your breasts, engulfing one into his mouth.
He slightly pulled at your nipple, gaining a mewl in response as he pushed you both into the corner of his kitchen. Your nerves were running haywire from the stimulation, your hands pulling on his hair to pull him away and back to your lips, his hand sneakily finding its way into the band of his pajama pants that you wore, digging into your underwear and cupping you. He resisted the urge of plunging his fingers as he felt your pussy tighten in response to his action.
“Fuck” your voice puled, pulling away from his lips, your hands balling fists against his chest as his fingers rubbed your clit beneath the fabric, your forehead lulling to rest back on the cabinets, slightly banging your head.
“You okay?” he breathed out, his fingers still swirling.
You nodded in response, your bundle of nerves making you increasingly more soaked, your moans peeped out as it was hard to regain your breath.
“Okay good” he spoke up, smirking slightly as he plunged his fingers into you, slowly teasing and pleasuring you. He repeatedly spread his fingers in the ridges of your hole, just before he curled his fingers and shook them up and down, enough to hear the squelch of you.
Your hands occupied your breasts, his eyes staring at the show you were giving him intently, he’s been craving this for years.
You felt emotional, as if you were deprived of heaven for long that you punished yourself for ever denying this. Denying the man who was finger-fucking you in his own clothes, in his townhome, on fucking Christmas. It felt blasphemous, deliciously intoxicating, your abdomen and bladder felt increasingly heavy and pressured. Your moans catching themselves in your throat, your hand began to cling to his bicep as you began to see white.
The last time that happened you were in college experimenting with the rabbit vibrator you got as a gag gift for your birthday.
“Pull your pants down and jump up” he demanded, you happily obliged post-orgasm, even while you were still in a haze of bliss.
You jumped and sat down on the counter, the marble was cold and greeted with the wetness of you that led your skin to glisten. Instinctively, you spread your legs in front of Robby as you kicked off your underwear and pants, giving him a clear view of the organ he was just stimulating so perfectly to you.
“You’re beautiful” he murmured under his breath, basking you all in just before he spread your lips with his hands, crouching down yet again, and going down on you.
His lips engulfed you whole, just before focusing on sucking your clit, leading your toes to curl in as they rested on his shoulders, his beard sending you into a craze. It was unhinged, sinful in every sense of the word as he plunged a finger into you yet again. Your hands clinging to the edge of the counters as your body gleefully was pleased with him.
No words were spoken upon your second orgasm, your breath barely regaining itself as Robby wiped you, pulling your pants and underwear up, teasingly rubbing your clit in the process only for you to jerk away from the stimulation. You drank in his appearance again, as he licked his fingers before washing them. How he returned to the brownies after making you see white. As he turned back to you, you gently wrapped around his neck, kissing him. This time it wasn’t fueled by the libidinous drive of your hormones, it was driven by the sheer appetency for this to work, for you to surrender and love him. You rested your foreheads together, his hands resting at your thighs before trekking up to your back and looking at you once more, kissing you.
Just for the doorbell to ring and the universe to send you a sign that it wouldn’t be today. Where you surrender completely. But it would mark the day where you began to make a predisposition against Robby as you answered the door and there revealed the plans Robby supposedly didn’t have in front of you. Heather, in all her glory and beauty, who didn’t question why you were there or why your makeup was smeared.
“I was actually just leaving— Happy holidays” you spoke up, grabbing your purse and clothes that rested on his sofa as Heather walked in. “Thanks for the spare clothes Robby” you thanked him, waving off as you ran down the stairs and began the ten minute walk home in your boots and his pajamas.
“I’m taking dinner with her parents didn't it go so well?” she asked Robby as she set her stuff down on his kitchen island.
“Yeah… her mom lives a few houses down,” he answered.
happy birthday to sharkboy 02/02!! written specially for my love @guravaa <3
thinking about the night that you take rin matsuoka out for dinner on his birthday.
he insists on paying—even though its a birthday dinner, like, your treat—but ends up losing on the compromise that he buys desert and drinks. so the night is still young, and the city is bustling with energy.
"there's still, like," you're almost in a drunken haze, with the way you pause for a long moment. "half an hour until its the third. wanna fuck around till then, birthday boy?"
he lightly chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you cling to his waist.
"sure, i do. let's get something sweet," he tries to keep his eyes on the path ahead of him, since he's practically dragging you along with him. but for the moment that his eyes glance your way...
he's in that same, drunken haze.
he's always thought you were attractive. but tonight? captivating. what a word. you're enchanting. bewitching, even.
woah, woah. keep your eyes on the path, man. don't wanna end tonight in disaster, do we, now?
he walks you to the nearest sweets shop—anything that's open at 11:30pm—entering through the door with a half-asleep friend clinging onto him like some koala.
"friend" my ass. he's been absolutely smitten by you, for, like... the longest time ever. and maybe tonight, just maybe, he can tell you.
so you're at the counter together, and he's ordering something he thinks—lies. he knows—you'd like, as well as something for himself. as the server hands him the two deserts, he slightly loosens his hold on you. he wishes he didn't, but sweets are also pretty important (i'm hungry 🤤)
he balances the two sweet treats in his hands as he pulls you close again, intertwining your hands.
maybe its okay, just for tonight.
"here," he hands you your desert, to which you practically light up, thanking him generously. "let's take a walk?"
"okay! wait, i know a place!" you—who was previously sluggish and tired—suddenly start rushing forward, dragging him with you.
at first, he's worried. are you okay? will you both live to see tomorrow? is his desert gonna fall??
but eventually, your laughter—your sweet, melodious, contagious laughter—echoes through his mind. every crevice of his swimming-obsessed mind... its full all the way to the top with the sound of your laughter.
"we're here!" avoiding what could've been two run-over accidents and jaywalking a few times, you finally stop running at this quaint little park. you walk together, hand in hand, under the alleyway of—what's absolutely perfectly, almost romantically placed—trees, eating your deserts in silence.
by now, the time is 11:58pm, of the second of february. two minutes until his special day is over.
two minutes until he's not a genius anymore, but rather, a normal person. twenty years old.
he wants to close the twentieth year and open the twenty first year with you.
"hey, i..." he starts, voice down to a murmur.
"can i give you my last gift of today?" you interrupt. you can't afford to miss the chance.
"uhh, sure? i guess?" he shrugs.
you stop walking, to which he turns to face you, confused. before he can ask what's wrong, you get on your tippy toes, cupping his face with your hands.
"you..." you lean in, voice just barely a whisper. your lips are just inches away from his, when you speak again. "have some icing on your lips."
his lips fall agape—he was so sure you were gonna kiss him. you cheekily giggle, putting your arms out to maintain balance on your tippy toes. before you can turn around and make a joke, he—impulsively—drops his desert, grabbing you by the face with hands as soft as his eyes gazing into yours.
"let the birthday boy have one last kiss-" he was so confident. but the words got jumbled. "i-i mean, wish. one last wi-"
you cut him off with the very kiss he wanted. i-i mean, his last wish...!
your lips—unlike anything of the millions of times he's imagined, hoped for; yearned for—are soft against his. they taste vaguely of sugar, but he doesn't mind. he hopes the icing on his lips tastes as good as the frosting on yours.
"happy birthday, rin. you're always extraordinary, to me." you whisper between the first kiss, before crashing your lips back against his, without any room for any words.
pairing: lando norris x molly chapman (original character)
summary: Can a gingerbread house decorating contest save Christmas when a raging snow storm threatens to derail Molly's favorite holiday?
author's note: this is totally self-indulgent fluff but consider it my christmas present to you lovely people!! i'm so thankful for all of you here in this little corner of my internet. this story means so much to me and i cannot believe i'm still going with it almost four months later. <3 you can follow @the-msb-library if you want updates. and as always, thank you @lestapiastrisgirl for being the best beta reader ever.
main master list | series master list | send me an ask! i love to yap!
New York City was drowning in snow. The storm had been raging for almost 36 hours, the big fat flakes pouring from the sky without a break for what felt an eternity. While the Texas girl in her found the novelty of being snowed in somewhat romantic, she wished the storm would have picked better timing.
“No, it’s okay Mom. I get it.” Molly nods, flopping down on the couch next to Lando where he sits, passively watching a movie. “Yeah, you can’t control the weather. Lando’s parents also had their flight canceled too. We can totally just postpone everything, it’s fine. Okay, tell Dad I love him. Love you too.”
Molly throws the phone onto the coffee table after ending the call, the frown on her face deepening. Lando slides his arm around Molly’s shoulders, tugging her firmly into his side. Melting into his warmth, she heaves a sigh.
“Your parents can’t make it either?” He asks, pressing a kiss to her hair.
“JFK, La Guardia, and Newark are all closed.” She hissed through gritted teeth. “All commercial and private flights are grounded indefinitely.”
The entire Champan clan along with Lando’s parents had been scheduled to fly in to the city to spend Christmas together but with just over a day before Molly’s favorite holiday, a large Norris/Champan Christmas was looking unlikely.
She knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault and that it was totally out of her control. That didn’t do anything to ease the sharp, coppery bite of disappointment that burned at the back of her throat as she snuggled deeper into Lando’s side.
She’d been looking forward to hosting both families together for weeks now, the plan being born right after her and Clara had seen what a success Thanksgiving was in Qatar.
It would have been the first time both families had gathered under the same roof and now that it looked like it wouldn’t happen, Molly couldn’t help but be upset. She didn’t get much down time as it was and with the US tour kicking off in February and an album coming out in the summer, this was likely the last bit of down time both her and Lando would have for the foreseeable future.
“I’m sorry, my love.” Lando murmurs into the quiet. “At least we won’t starve though. I think we have enough food in this flat to last us until spring.” He says, trying to lighten the mood.
Molly huffs a laugh. Just yesterday, right before the storm hit, her and Lando had gone to the grocery store and stocked up on enough food to feed an army. Molly had even given in to Lando’s request for roast duck after he insisted that his grandmother never let her Christmas table go without one.
“Small blessings, I suppose.” She says quietly, staring out the window.
Exhaustion pulled at her, the thought of curling up under the covers and sleeping until she didn’t feel the sting of sadness anymore suddenly sounding like the only appealing option she had.
Yawning, Molly stretches her legs out in front of her. “I think I’m going to go take a nap.” She announces, pushing up off the couch.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Lando asks, pausing the movie to look up at Molly who shrugs.
“Only if you want. I thought you said Max wanted to play Tarkov this afternoon? Is he streaming tonight?”
Lando nods. “He just texted me actually, he’s going to be on in about 15 minutes.”
Molly leans down, catching Lando’s mouth in a heated kiss. “Go use that set up I got you for Christmas so Fewtrell stops accusing me of kidnapping you. I’ll survive without cuddles for one nap.” She says with a wink when she pulls back.
Lando laughs, shaking his head. “You sure?” He looks like he’s torn between wanting to catch up with his friend and spend time with Molly, something that he doesn’t get to do nearly enough in his opinion.
“Yes, of course. I just want to pout alone for a little and a nap usually makes me feel better. You go kill random strangers on the internet.”
Lando watches Molly walk towards their bedroom, sad smile on his face. If he’d been able to, he would have physically gone to Texas and London to get their family here in time for Christmas. He knew how much the holiday meant to Molly and knew how disappointed she was. She was doing a good job of being graceful about it but she’d been talking about the family gingerbread house decorating contest for what felt like months at this point.
There had to be something he could do to try to make a snowed in Christmas alone better, he just didn’t know what. He was useless in the kitchen, the thought of attempting that roast duck he’d been so insistent on made his stomach hurt. He didn’t even know how to work the shiny black KitchenAid mixer so baking the cookies she’d planned to have Gray and Holden decorate was out of the question.
Lando heaves himself off the couch and pads towards the spare room that Molly had had remodeled over the last few months. It used to be somewhat of a ‘catch all’ space since she’d moved in with a treadmill and pilates reformer among boxes of unused tour merch and random instruments but she’d hired a designer to turn it into a combined workout/gaming room.
Tucked away in the corner is a large desk that has a setup that mirrors the one in his Monaco apartment. The designer had asked for several photos of what he was used to using when they’d been working on the room and had done a really good job of recreating his space.
The door snicks closed behind Lando as he starts up the computer, texting Max that he’s about to join the already started stream. For some reason, he decides to flick on the ring light and camera too, knowing that the people who watched Max’s stream would get a kick out of a Christmas appearance.
When he joins the stream a few minutes later, chat loses it. It was rare that he joined Max’s stream these days, even in the off season but add on the fact that he had his camera on? Lando watched the viewer count tick up steadily as he got set up.
“There you are!” Max cries, clearly happy to see his friend. “I thought you might’ve gotten turned into the abdominal snowman!”
Lando chuckles, flicking through his Tarkov inventory as they prepared for a game, “No but we’re definitely snowed in here. Both Molly’s family and mine can’t get into the city for Christmas.”
Chat loses it at this bit of information:
Their families were supposed to spend Christmas together??? And now they can’t??? I’m so sad!!!
He’s in New York with her???
OMG THEY ARE SO END GAME
Wait, so he has his own gaming set up at Molly’s house??? ARE WE LOOKING AT MOLLY CHAPMAN’S HOUSE RIGHT NOW???
Max groans, “Oh no, I know how excited she was about having everyone there together. Is she upset?”
The game starts but Lando keeps up the running commentary as he hides from opposing players that want to kill him, “Yeah, she just went to go lay down for a little while. She only naps on off days when she’s sad. I want to do something for her but short of personally hiring a sled dog team to get everyone here, I don’t know what could make her feel better.”
Chat is instantly flooded with suggestions:
Bearskin rug in front of a fire, duh.
Build a snow man in Central Park with her!
Bake cookies with her, man!!!
Gingerbread House decorating contest. WE CAN BE THE JUDGES!!!
The last suggestion catches both Max and Lando’s attention. Lando looks at his best friend through the camera and shrugs, “You know, that one isn’t a half bad idea. We did get these fancy kits from this store in SoHo for the twins to make their own gingerbread houses.”
Max leans forward, the game totally forgotten. “She’d wipe the floor with you!”
Lando’s mouth drops open as he scoffs, “Way to have your best mate’s back there, you asshole.”
Max cackles, “Language, Lando! You don’t want to get a text from Goldie telling you to behave like you did last stream, do you?”
Lando shudders at the memory. “Fuck no, that woman is terrifying.”
He claps his hand over his mouth as he looks down at his phone like it’s about to bite him. He knows he can expect a scolding text from Goldie once someone clips the exchange and posts it on Twitter.
While Lando is fearing for his life, chat is loving this potential for spilled blood:
He is truly terrified of her, isn’t he?
I too am scared of Goldie Miller and I’ve never met her.
The look on his face when he swore the second time.
Between the FIA and Goldie, Lando is constantly risking it all opening his mouth.
I love how scared of her he is. All 5 feet 3 inches of her.
Max is having the time of his life here.
Lando smacks the desk, “So it’s decided. When Molly wakes up from her nap, we’ll make the gingerbread houses and then let the public decide how much better my aesthetic is than hers.”
“Awfully cocky there, brother.” Max chuckles.
The conversation slowly turns back to the game and for a few hours, Lando loses himself in playing with Max. He doesn’t even hear the door creak open or notice Molly has woken up from her nap until the tail of her French braid tickles the nape of his neck when she drapes herself over the back of his gaming chair.
Lando startles before instinctually reaching for the camera to switch it off. “Sorry, baby. I didn’t hear you come in.”
Molly shrugs, eyes darting over to the chat stream that is buzzing over the fact that they caught a glimpse of her before Lando shut the camera off.
“It’s okay, it’s not like I’m naked or anything.”
“Damn shame about that.” Lando chuckles as Molly climbs into his lap. She’s still soft and warm from her nap as she winds her arms around his neck. “Although I could just shut the stream off now and I could take you right back to bed…”
“Mic’s still on!” Max shouts. “Mic. Is. Still. ON!”
Without taking his eyes off of Molly, Lando reaches over and clicks the mic off.
“There.” He murmurs before bringing his lips to hers. “I think we might have figured out something to make you feel better.” Lando says after he’s satisfied with how well he’s properly kissed Molly.
She raises a brow. “Oh?”
Lando nods, “Do you mind if I turn the camera back on too? I think this might be fun for everyone to see.” Molly nods and Lando presses one last kiss to her temple before switching the mic and camera back on, “Okay, we’re back.”
Max audibly sighs, “Molly may not be afraid of Goldie but I still am so thank you for taking that offline.”
He blinks slowly when he sees the camera is on too. Molly is curled up in Lando’s lap, wearing a Quadrant tshirt and black joggers that look suspiciously like Lando’s. This was the first time Molly had been on camera in one of their streams and immediately, the chat loses it (again).
OH MY GOD.
MOLLY. IN THE WILD. ON STREAM.
Hiiiiiiii Molly!!!
Wait. They literally look so cozy I can’t.
She looks so comfy in his space.
I’ve never seen Lando look at anyone like he looks at Molly.
That boy is gone!!!
She’s wearing HIS shirt and HIS sweats!!!
They’re so domestic, I CANNOT HANDLE ITTTTTTT
We are being FED today ahhhhhh!!!
Max looks like he’s about to faint. We almost heard them making out didn’t we?
Molly and Lando watch the chat speed by for a moment before Max clears his throat. Lando’s gaze snaps back to where Max is frowning at his camera.
“Relax you diva, we’ll make sure Goldie knows you’re innocent.” He looks up at Molly, grinning so wide his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Okay, so back to Operation Fix Christmas. We were talking about how bummed you were about missing Christmas with our families. Someone suggested we have a little gingerbread house decorating contest and then let the fans decide who the gingerbread master is.”
Molly’s eyes flicker between the chat that is still speeding by and Lando, who looks so eager that her heart aches. The thought of him talking to Max and the viewers about how disappointed she was and trying to find a way to help make her feel better makes her chest tighten.
She loved this man with her entire soul.
“Only if you accept the fact that I’m going to beat you.” She grins, brushing a kiss over his cheek.
Max groans. “Please don’t turn this into a make out session.”
“I’m going to win, and you know it.” Lando murmurs, blatantly ignoring Max.
“Just like you beat me in mini golf in Australia?” Molly teases, eyes sparkling.
Max howls, “You are never going to let him live that down are you?”
Lando frowns as Molly tosses her head back and laughs, “Absolutely not.”
“Okay, that’s enough you two.”Lando grouses.”So, you ready to lose, princess?”
Molly clambers off of Lando’s lap. “If you mean am I ready to beat your ass, then yes! Yes, I am.”
Lando shakes his head before turning back to his stream, “That’s my cue, mate. Bye chat!!”
It takes them longer than anticipated to actually put the pieces of Gingerbread together so that the structure was sound. Lando would never admit it, but Molly was a much better architect than he ever could hope to be, her house coming together with much more ease compared to him.
Outside, darkness has totally enveloped the entire city, the sparkling lights from the buildings shining in through the windows of Molly’s apartment. Everything has gone quiet underneath the blanket of snow that muffles the sound.
No horns blaring.
No one is shouting.
No dogs barking.
Just peaceful, blissed out silence.
Their Christmas tree, over twelve feet tall and lit up with hundreds of white sparkling pinpricks of light, shimmers near the fireplace. When they’d started this little project, Molly had lit one of her favorite candles so the entire apartment smelled of pine needles and cinnamon, punctuated with the scent of ginger and spice from the gourmet houses that were sitting on the counters. Lando had even lit a fire in the brick fireplace, the logs crackling and popping away softly as the two sat at the table shoulder to shoulder.
Lando’s house lists a little to the side but it looks like it will survive the night at least. Molly’s is much more sturdier looking though, a fact that does not make Lando happy.
“Your competitive streak is showing.” Molly mutters, casting a sidelong look at Lando who is openly pouting.
“This isn’t fair!” He cries, outlining a window pane on the side of the house with white royal icing. “You guys do this every year, you’ve had so much more practice than me!”
Molly laughs loudly, tipping her head back. It’s a sight that tugs at Lando’s heart, despite him being upset that he was about to get beaten - once again - by his girlfriend. He’d been so worried about her after she’d gone to take a nap but from the moment they’d stepped into the kitchen it was like Molly had lit up from within.
She had barely stopped smiling since.
“I’m going to file a complaint with the official gingerbread house committee. You have an unfair advantage.” Lando grouses, but he’s smiling despite his protests.
He’d gladly lose ten times over if it meant watching Molly’s heart heal a little bit from the disappointment of her missed Christmas.
“You’re such a baby.” Molly tuts as she places a trail of green gumdrops along the bottom edge of her gingerbread house’s front wall. “Look! Bushes!” She announces and Lando curses himself for not thinking of that first.
“Well mine is going to have peppermint shingles.” He sniffs in an attempt to make her jealous.
“Lan, I don’t think we have enough peppermints for the entire roof.” Molly says sagely as she regards his mess of a house.
Lando sighs, “You’re right.” He admits, switching gears and placing a long peppermint stick on the apex of the roof instead. “I’ll do icing shingles instead.”
“Good plan.” Molly giggles as she places a dots of white icing along the roof line before pressing red sprinkles into them so they stick.
When all is said and done, Lando’s is the more colorful of the two by far but Molly’s looks like it’s been professionally decorated by someone raised at the North Pole. There’s a royal icing wreath on the door and a peppermint walkway that rivals Santa’s workshop.
“I’ve so got this in the bag.” Lando announces as he crouches to take a picture.
“Okay, honey. Whatever you say.” Molly placates him as she giggles underneath her breath.
Lando narrows his eyes, “I don’t appreciate that tone of voice, young lady.”
Molly’s gaze heats at the threat in his voice, “What are you going to do about it, huh?”
Without warning, Lando lunges so quickly Molly only has time to squeal in surprise. He throws her over his shoulder, legs hanging down as she swats at his back helplessly. “Lando Norris!” She shouts, “Put! Me! Down! We have a contest to finish!”
Lando scrambles down the hall, arms locked fight around her legs so he doesn’t drop her, laughter tumbling from his lips as Molly wiggles around trying to free herself.
“You’re just afraid you’re going to lose because my house is better than yours.” Molly accuses as Lando tosses her down on the bed.
He towers over her, hands on his hips as Molly squirms beneath his heated gaze. “False.” He says before climbing over her, caging her in with his arms when she lays back against her pillow. “I just can’t go another minute without kissing you.”
Molly giggles as she pushes herself up so she can kiss Lando’s waiting lips. She sighs into him as he lowers himself down onto her body ever more, the weight of him a comforting, grounding presence.
“Are you feeling a little better about everything, pretty girl?” He asks as Molly’s fingers toy with the hem of his sweater. “I know it’s not the Christmas you imagined but…”
Molly silences him with another kiss, her lips working over his as if to say everything she can’t put into words. How grateful she was to have him. How much she loved him. How she wanted to spend every Christmas with him for the rest of her life.
“It’s perfect.” She whispers without taking her mouth off his, “You’re perfect and I love you so much. Thank you.”
Lando blushes at the praise, “You’re welcome, princess. I love you too.”
lando posted!
lando obviously we know house B is better but i guess we can let you guys decide...(plus look at my pretty girlfriend. isn't she gorgeous?)
max.fewtrell oh mate...
>>>lando WHAT? MINE IS GOOD, OKAY???
>>>molly.sings of course it is honey...
>>>user019 i can just picture molly patting him on the head and nodding along
user190 RIP lando's ego
user928 who's gonna tell him...
user123 at least he tried?
molly.sings your snowman is cute baby!
user910 did he spell christmas wrong on the roof???
>>>user211 our dyslexic king
July 25 is a pivotal day in Alex lore, I’ll show you.
The final page of Alexa's book 'It' confused many. What did it mean? What was the point? Here it is:
The Guardian reviewer said: “Then more (and more) of the same, followed by photos of "Fuck you!" and "The End" written in the sand and… well, that's your lot for 17 quid. Kerching! Or should that be Ker-Chung?”
However, for those who followed Alexa, they’d seen the "fuck you" photo posted before.
Alexa had posted the image to Instagram on July 25, 2012.
And in case you think it’s merely random, a coincidence or whimsical, per her twitter, Alexa was in Manhattan that day and not near a beach.
So, what’s the significance of July 25? It was the one year anniversary of Alex supposedly ending things with Alexa before he flew off to Japan.
How do we know that? Well, Alexa’s publicist confirmed the split on July 31st.
On 26 July, Alexa accepts the job to host 24 hour catwalk.
On 27 July, Alexa who is still in London buys her apartment in New York. I won’t link it here but NYC property records are public.
This is more circumstantial, but Alexa posted on twitter 46 times between July 2-July 24. After July 24 she doesn’t post for a week, when she posts once on July 31. And then not again until she arrives in NY on August 8. At a minimum it seems to confirm that July 25 was significant. If you’ve followed enough celebrity breakups, it’s not uncommon for the person dumped to go silent on socials for a few days.
How can we know who ended the relationship? Obviously, we can’t, but we can make inferences, (personally I would argue that Alexa makes that plain in her book but I’ve seen you both state you don’t think her book is dispositive).
Alexa is at both AM’s Don Valley shows on the 10th and 11 of June and is also in attendance at their Paris gig on the 16th. She takes many photos with fans, tweets about being there, has friends post photos of her backstage. They’re still a couple.
We know from the breakup articles that they’re supposedly not speaking at the itunes festival on the 6th of July in London.
This makes sense because Alexa had tweeted to fans that she would be at AM’s performance at the Benicassim festival on the 16th of July and she didn’t go – so something has happened between Paris on the 16th and London on the 6th.
We know from Alexa that they’re still together after the 28th though. Alexa is interviewed for October’s Harper’s Bazaar and the interviewer mentions that Alexa had already dj’d the Serpentine Summer Gallery Party which took place on the 28th.
Alexa brings Alex up of her own volition:
Would someone with Alexa’s media savvy really be mentioning Alex so favorably in an interview that takes place some time between June 29 and July 5 if she was seriously contemplating dumping Alex by the 6th?
I think Alexa is far too media savvy for that, and her PR rep Liz Matthews is also notoriously involved in her interviews declaring what topics are and are not permitted. If Alexa is within a week of ending her celebrity relationship, she’s not going to speak about him on record for a magazine due out in 3 months.
However, people have arguments, things happen, revelations are made, just because Alexa is feeling good about Alex then doesn’t mean something couldn’t happen to change her mind in the ensuing days, but I think it at least indicates she is not expecting this relationship to end imminently.
I’d also argue that if Alexa was the one to initiate the split during this period you would expect to see some movement on her accepting her job now. Alexa had filmed her audition for 24 hour catwalk in February. It is to begin shooting in August. If you know anything about television production and the trade announcements in the industry this is an exceptionally long time to be mulling your decision. And there is more to it than merely ‘the presenter wants it delayed’, there are insurance implications that equal real dollars at stake.
Feb 18-21 interview.
I think we can probably assume that if Alexa is contemplating taking time off it is likely due to pressure from Alex who doesn’t want to go months without seeing her. The Suck It And See Tour is slated to be long – longer than any of their 3 previous tours.
But let’s say Alexa decides ultimately, she is unwilling to accede to Alex’s wishes, and she wants to prioritize her career and take the job. That still begs the question why she would speak so enthusiastically about Alex in an interview days before they’re supposedly not talking in a magazine article not due for publication for months. I find it unlikely.
If she made the decision between June 28th and July 6th (when they’re not speaking) to take the job and dump Alex, why is there no press release about her accepting the tv job in the period 6 July to July 26? TV executives want this news out there as quick as possible. Why not buy her NY apartment on July 8, 15 or 21? The press isn’t paying that close attention that they’d know or suspect it meant to imminent dissolution of a celebrity couple.
The most plausible answer I believe is she only took the job after Alex ended things. The neat sequence; July 25 - relationships ends. July 26 - job accepted. July 27 - apartment bought makes little sense if she had decided between June 28 and July 5 to end things.
Did Alexa even want the job? Alexa had done reality tv as part of her Channel 4 contract in 2008 (Vanity Lair) and hated the experience. She didn’t like the show but also felt it diminished her ‘brand’ to be associated with reality tv. After Alexa arrived back in America but before the show even aired she was already suggesting ambivalence about the show:
This doesn’t sound like the type of career opportunity one ends a 4+ year relationship for.
In an interview conducted in August for Teen Vogue’s October 2011 cover, Alexa says about her new life in New York: "Right now is a real turning point. Everything I thought I knew is no longer. I think this is the year I have to grow up."
Another question if you’re still disbelieving, ask this; if Alexa decided to end things with Alex to take the job because she wanted to prioritize her career then why is the sentiment she is publishing “Fuck you” on the anniversary of their split!? If you end a 4-year relationship with someone and break their heart to prioritize yourself and your ambitions your sentiment is more likely to be “sorry” or something less damning. It doesn’t make sense to me.
Of course, she could have ended things with Alex for other reasons beyond her career. Perhaps Alex had done something to make her hate him, but then again, we have enough quotes from Alexa, coupled with her social media behavior and her willingness to get back with him in 2014 to assume she didn’t hate him. She appears to have resented him, which is different. Also, if Alexa dumped Alex because he cheated the timeline would be different. They’re not speaking on July 6, she doesn’t attend the Benicassim Festival on July 16 as she said on twitter she would – so why would the anniversary of their split be July 25?
Well, maybe she simply decided they no longer worked, had different values and their preferred lifestyles were not aligned. She’s an extroverted person who wants to spend her nights out, he’s an introverted homebody; maybe that’s the reason. Perfectly reasonable, but why then would you commemorate the anniversary of the split by saying “fuck you”?
If you watch this interview (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Mq-6xj4c-I) with Alexa about her book at the 3:15 mark she says that her book ‘It’ “represented something else I had to get through” and her tone and intonation is clear what that is – her breakup.
I think it’s clear that Alexa did not randomly select July 25 to post her ‘Fuck you’ message. She obviously had it prepared. She also did not randomly select the image that would end her book. How you end a book is often a thesis statement. The book, as she said, “represented something” she had to “get through” and the culmination of that book is a coded, but unmistakable, “fuck you” to Alex.
Random asides:
I figure once you’ve committed to writing something this extensive (and depending on your point of view, crazy) you may as well go all in, so I’ll add a few more points unrelated to July 25, but interesting nonetheless. I was inspired to write this up after reading a recent discussion of the ‘factual history’ vs snarcticmonkeys timeline you had. Both posts ironically have the same problem; each imagine the relationship as dominated by one person; ‘factual history’ thinks Alexa was obsessed and Alex wielded power whilst Snarctics thinks Alex loved Alexa more and Alexa had all the power. I don’t know how either can claim to know this and I assume both loved each other. I am more sympathetic to the ‘factual history’ only insofar as it relies on some of the same 2011-2014 tumblr lore I believe.
The Snarctics timeline, which believes Alex/Alexa were an on/off couple relies heavily on a quote from Alexa in 2022 where she spoke about going on Joan Rivers show in 2010 whilst she was single – the problem is Alexa simply misremembered the dates; she went on in January 2012. Alexa and Alexa were with each other right up until (and including) the first week of AM recording Suck it and See in Los Angeles in January. There are many photos of Alex attending fashion events or dj gigs with Alexa in NY from June-September. Alexa submitted a photo of Alex on the beach in the Caribbean taken on October 19 to Lula Mag, they attend the Submarine premiere together a few days later, the pairing skeleton Halloween costumes a week later, her birthday photos etc. they are spotted together in Sheffield in the new year. Alexa mentions recently meeting Alex’s grandmother in February interview. They weren’t on/off.
To undermine what I just said about them not being ‘on and off’ I do think they were likely on a break or something from late March-maybe late April. It’d take too long to delve into here – I wanted a tight focus on July 25 and the weeks leading up to it – but the old rumor was always they’d split in late March after Alexa arrived back from Paris and Seoul. Beginning in late March Alexa stops wearing Alex’s ring, she’d been wearing it up till then:
The other claim the snarcticmonkeys post makes is that Alexa was largely unaffected by the split until Alex moved on with Arielle. However, Alexa was already making heartbreak compilations before Alex had been seen with Arielle. This is from September 22. I think it’s a mistake to read too much into any songs but multiple songs here are from a female pov and about coming to terms with heartbreak and loneliness after having been left.
Snarctic etc. suggest Alexa amplified her heartbreak for book sales but if you read Alexa interviews in this era or followed her on social media she was not hiding how she was struggling emotionally. I don’t post any of this to make fun of Alexa but to show she was often very publicly heartbroken, and I don’t think she “peddled heartbreak as a marketing gimmick”. I agree these posts don't prove who ended the relationship but I think they humanize Alexa who is often spoken of in cold or superior terms in her relationship with Alex and also show that her heartbreak wasn't a "advertising gimmick".
Alexa went to the Caribbean with Tennessee for her 28th birthday trip which she dubbed a ‘heartbreak trip’ in an essay for Vogue. Here are some tweets from her time away.
This is Alexa speaking in December 2011 for the March 2012 Elle issue:
This is Alexa in December 2011 after a night of posting heartbreak songs:
One of many similarly themed Alexa dj cds she posted in summer 2012:
September 28, 2012 – the 12 month anniversary of Alex being papped with Arielle has Alexa posting this to Instagram:
Alexa including ‘Stuck On a Puzzle’ on her Refinery 29 Playlist in October 2012;
And lastly, for some comic relief; Alex and Alexa first hung out post-split at the 2013 GQ Man of the Year Awards; they went back to Miles’ house. The Next day, Pixie Geldof is taking shots at Alex and posting this:
Regardless of where people end up on all this I thought I’d try type up some of the old fandom lore to try and coincide with the anniversary of the July 25 post.
I don’t pretend this is authoritative or ‘the final word’ – I’m sure there are many things I’m wrong about which is the point of a ‘shit-talk’. Hopefully I at least made the case for July 25 being meaningful in the fandom and perhaps showed some people some old lore they were unaware of. And maybe some of this info gives insight into why most of the fandom in the 'peak tumblr era' thought Alex had ended things with Alexa.
Interesting read. I still think it’s not definitive as to who broke up with whom from all of this but you make your case for July 25th! Interesting
Just a little wholesome wish fulfillment fluff, don’t mind me <3
For anyone who can’t sleep and wants to read an AU where everything is okay.
I made this in two days in the middle of the night, probably for a total of ~3 hours, so my writing is probably not the best. Grammatical edits may yet come.
It was about 1 AM the last time you checked your phone, which was now charging on your nightstand behind you.
Several hours ago, you came back home from slogging through an 8-hour shift at a busy convenient store, just to end up cleaning up your new apartment while Jin was still working a 12-hour shift at a warehouse. The place was a mess after you moved in last week with boxes filling every room and lining the halls. When Jin finally came home, he found you nearly in tears while you were putting away dishes in the kitchen, overwhelmed by all the responsibilities that you and he were buried under at this point in your lives. He didn’t hesitate to scoop you up and hold you in his arms until you calmed down; then, he was more than happy to help you finish unpacking the kitchen. He was dog-tired, but he was always the type of person who was willing to put his problems to the side to support the people he loved.
You had no idea how you could have been so lucky to find a man like Jin. Granted, he had his fair share of problems: a personality disorder where he switched back and forth between radically different selves, an unstable sense of identity, and a lengthy criminal record, but… things could be worse, right? At least that’s what you always tried to tell yourself. But there were so many golden traits that overshadowed the red flags. He was a deeply caring person, at least for the people he loved, and he was devoted to a T. His loyalty was unwavering and he was never hesitant to let you know how much you meant to him (although, some of his other personalities would try to argue the contrary). Not only that, but his dynamic energy always lifted up your spirit. Seeing him dramatically pose, make wild hand gestures, or just simply yap to himself always managed to make you crack a smile, and that made his stomach feel all fluttery.
Now, the day was far beyond over, and you both decided that you were just done for the day. Utterly whooped, you and Jin collapsed onto your queen-sized bed -- which just so happened to be laying on the floor, since neither of you had time to assemble the bedframe yet. You did, however, have all your blankets unpacked and spread over the mattress, and you both snuggled up under their soft and cozy coverage.
It was February and the utilities weren’t set up yet, so your apartment’s heater was not going to kick on. But that wasn’t an issue; you were wrapped up in thick comfy blankets and each other’s warm embrace kept the chill away for the whole night. You felt almost too warm, but you were too tired to do anything about it, and you didn’t want to escape your boyfriend’s secure embrace.
“Babe… I’m tired,” you whined. You were in a state where, even though you were utterly beat, you were unfortunately unable to fall asleep.
“Damn, that sucks-- Just close your eyes, Y/N, we’ve got nowhere to be,” Jin sleepily replied.
The dread of having to go to work again tomorrow pervaded your sense of relaxation vs. urgency. You were also afraid of your beloved falling asleep before you as well, and you didn’t want to be left alone after such a hard day.
“I have work tomorrow…I don’t wanna go…” you muttered.
Your obvious pouting made Jin grin a little, so he opened his eyes and admired your weary face. “Here…put your head under my chin-- eugh, go away,” he calmly replied, despite a contradicting voice pleading otherwise. You’ve known him for a long while now, so you knew for certain that all those snide remarks didn’t reflect how he actually felt about you, and he was so grateful that you understood that and trusted him.
You nuzzled your face against his neck, his chin now resting on top of your head. You felt heat radiate from his exposed skin, some stubble from a somewhat recent shave, and the beating of his heart through his jugular.
Whenever Jin came home from work, he would immediately slip on his Twice mask to feel a sense of wholeness again. It was difficult to keep himself together while trying to conform to the rest of the society, all so that he could hold down his current job and support the two of you. The warehouse he worked at was extremely hesitant to let a convict work for them, but they couldn’t exactly refuse him due to government pressure; so, they made a compromise: “no costume that would make everyone on-site feel uncomfortable and you get to stay.” Thank God for pre-trial diversion programs.
Because of this, you don’t often have the chance to savor this skin-to-skin contact like you can at this moment. Bedtime was one of the few times he took his mask off at home (he didn’t want to suffocate in his sleep, after all) and you took advantage of it almost every night. You slowly inhaled his scent and the feeling of your breath against his neck made him blush.
“Do you feel any better?-- Have you had enough yet?!” Jin said, caring contrasted with false annoyance.
“Mmm…need this for a while longer.”
His smile widened and he closed his eyes. “I can do this all night-- Creep!”
Dammit…
Why can’t I just shut up?
Oh come on, you know she loves it.
Is this weird? Are we really okay?
Not at all.
We’re totally fine!
When will she be tired of me?
Any moment now.
I’m a mess, I don’t--
Jin’s slowly spiraling thoughts were abruptly interrupted when you nuzzled your face against his neck again, reassuring him that, even though he was admittedly afraid of being happy, everything really was all good between the two of you.
“Thank you…for being here,” you whispered.
Jin squeezed you tightly as if you were his favorite stuffed animal, and you squeezed him back with equal affection.
It’s okay to have nice things. We’re allowed to have this. Me and Y/N both, he finally thought to himself. Things are so much better than they used to be. I finally made it…she finally made it.
Fuck it, who cares, we’re allowed to celebrate it… even if that celebration is just as small as cuddling in bed.
To soothe himself to sleep after coming to his realization, he proceeded to pet your head. He let his fingers run through your hair and he hummed with contentment. The room being totally dark and quiet also added to the sense of tranquility among the two of you. “I love you-- you’re a devil,” he whispered.
At this point, you finally felt yourself relax a little more and were too tired to reply. Your muscles became slack and your eyelids began to feel heavy. Jin’s steady breathing, heartbeat, and rhythmic petting (while your face was still pressed against his neck) gradually lulled you to sleep. Once you were out cold, your boyfriend’s consciousness slipped soon after.
Summary: Life with Adam has been sweet so far, but as Valentines Day rolls around, he decides to make it just a little bit sweeter. (AKA Adam is a sweetie who wants to give his girl the best first Valentines Day he can, including a homemade card and cake)
Warnings: Valentines Day themed, fluff, just generally cheesy fluff, like just cliche cute fluff, slightly subtle angst in places but not much, mention of injury, mention of scars and stitching, mention of a burn, general cuteness, it’s Valentine’s Day and Adam makes sure you know it
Word Count: 3239
Notes: @cerealash thank youuuuu for this I loved writing it 🩷
Adam melts my heart a little bit I can’t lie so this was so fun to do
Enjoy 🩷🩷🩷
Life with Adam has been sweet so far, and so much more comfortable than anything you had ever known.
Sweet words and tender touches had become the standard in your new life. He would hold you tightly at night, arms wrapped carefully around your middle as though worried you would disappear while he slept. Sometimes, you would worry that he would disappear while you slept, as if he was some imaginary friend or hallucination that would be gone by the time you opened your eyes.
You had been feeling better since you moved into his home, both physically and mentally. You felt safe here. Adam had started to fix up some of your stitching the best he could, and while none of it was exactly perfect, it was a whole lot better than anything done by your creator's careless hands. After the first time he stitched you up, Adam had started to do any little fix ups in more welcoming rooms if he could, anywhere that wasn't the clinical room you hated so much. He was good at listening to you, good at paying attention to the things you disliked or feared.
You had a lot of free time together, most of it spent watching movies on his TV, or playing more slightly one sided games of ping pong. You were slowly getting a little better though, and he made sure to tell you this every time. You're still not fully sure if you believe him anytime he does say it, though he had never given you any reason not to.
In fact, Adam has given you very little reason to ever think he might lie at all. He was so much kinder and caring than any other person you had ever encountered, even if that number was very few. He was honest, and open, though sometimes a little bit too straight up in his ways, though never maliciously. Just out of curiosity and eagerness to learn all about you. The only topic he still avoided was that of his creator, and over time you learned not to pry, though you picked up little things about him here and there. Nothing substantial, but enough to know to not dig too much into it.
One dull February day, however, Adam is acting strange. Almost suspicious. Quiet and evasive, as though trying to avoid you at all costs. It was almost unsettling. It wasn't like him to stay away from you - if anything, he was normally stuck to you as though you were both joined at the hip. He had gone out a little earlier in the day, with no mention of where to, and no indication as to what for. It's the first time since you met him that you've felt any form of suspicion, or unease. It felt more like what you had been used to in the past - a reminder of the cold shoulder you were so familiar with getting from your creator, whenever he would decide he didn't want you. When there would be no one to show you off to, and no one to impress, he would leave you to entertain yourself for hours on end. It was so different to your Adam.
An hour or so passes until Adam eventually returns home, though he still doesn't come to see you when he does. Normally if he does have to go out without you, he is straight over to you once he comes back, long arms wrapped around you in an instant. You can hear some commotion coming from the direction of the kitchen, though it's kept to a minimum, as if he doesn't want you to hear what he's doing.
You're struggling through a book when he does eventually appear in front of you. You put it down, and feel a relief when you notice he seems happy to see you.
Adam shoves a crudely made card out in front of you. There's a jumble of scribbled hearts and pink swirls on the front, and some scrawly writing you can't quite make out.
"Valentines." Adam is smiling like an excited child. Your shoulders relax a little at the sight. "Today. I read about it in a book. They talked about it in a movie too. February 14th. Today."
Looking between him and the card, you start to feel nervous. Should you know what this is? It wasn't something you had heard of, and whatever movies he had seen it in must have been watched long before you had arrived. It's obviously something nice, as the paper he's holding in front of your face is a sweet kind of thing, even if you're not even sure what it is. You feel your heart sink a little as his beaming face turns ever so slightly towards confusion as he awaits your response.
"Valentines?"
Adam nods, his smile fading slightly more. "It's a day where people who like each other, show it. You haven't heard of it before?"
You suddenly understand the concept a little better, and the word sounds ever so vaguely familiar. You turn your gaze up to his. His excitement returns when you smile up at him softly.
"No, not before. It sounds nice. Is this for me?"
He's beaming again, and he nods.
You smile slightly wider. "You made it? Just for me?"
Adam nods again, and his gaze on you is warm. "It's our first Valentines. My first Valentines with a girl. My girl."
You take the card in your hands, and the butterflies that you've grown so familiar with start floating in your stomach again. A heat that's also grown very common in you when Adam is around creeps up your face.
He pulls you up gently, before his arms surround you in a tighter grip than he probably intends to use. You can practically feel the excitement seeping out of him as he holds you, and sometimes in moments like this you notice he forgets his own strength. The embrace is a rough squeeze, though you know it's meant with good intent.
"Come." A large hand grabs yours, and he leads you towards the kitchen. The sound of quiet music starts meeting your ears as you get closer to the room, and you guess he's got a radio set up playing something gentle.
Adam leads you inside, and you're met with a scene that resembles something from a movie you think you once saw. One of the many he had shown you since you moved into his home. It's what you had learned to call romantic.
Theres some pretty flowers in a vase placed neatly on the kitchen table, and around it there's a few loose petals scattered. You think they look a little dead, much different to the bouquet standing proudly in the vase - they're turning a little grey and wilted and losing their colour, but you don't mention that. You're sure it had been intended as a thoughtful gesture. You had seen things like it in magazines.
There's a large book resting on the countertop, opened on a page with a photo of a pretty cake. Adam points to it with a grin, and you notice he has a lot of ingredients ready too, along with a little heart shaped cake tin.
"We can bake." He looks like an excited kid once again, and you return the enthusiasm fully this time. He moves to start fiddling with the ingredients he had carefully put out, and you take a moment to look around the room again. It's clear that he's put thought into it, and your eyes well up with a feeling you're not totally familiar with. A warm, safe one, a feeling as though you're finally being really appreciated by someone. You blink quickly to squash the brewing tears before moving to join him.
Baking with Adam proved to be more of a challenge than you would assume it should be.
Though you've tried to practice more since moving in here, your reading is still not quite up to Adam's skill, and so he opts to call the instructions out to you. His instructions are slow and he does his best to guide you, though he isn't completely clear, resulting in a few mistakes along the way that neither of you even fully register as being by errors - eggs are thrown in full and uncracked. Some measurements are not at all accurate. The cooking time and temperature are a slight guess for the both of you. When the cake is ready to bake, it goes into the oven after you both finish struggling with turning it on.
There's still some soft music playing as you wait. Adam has a little radio set up in the corner, and he shows you all of the CDs he likes to play on it. You take note of the ones he sounds the most excited to talk about, his hands moving more as his expressions become more animated. Without even realising, you find yourself smiling as you listen, taking in every word he says.
Eventually when enough time has passed, it seems like the cake might finally be ready to take out. Adam lets you do the honours. A wave of hot air hits your face as you open the oven, and you flinch a little at the feeling of it, the air leaving your face slightly flushed. Adam had handed you oven mitts, though you've forgotten one of them, and only one of your hands is covered as both reach to grab the cake and pull it out.
"Wait, too hot-"
Adam tries to intervene, but you've got the cake tin halfway out of the oven by the time you even register his concern. There's an unpleasant feeling on your bare hand as you do so, though it's not a particularly painful one. Should it be? All you feel is a slight sting across your palm, and you don't think much of it as you place the cake tin down until you notice Adam staring at you.
"That should be hot. Does it feel very hot?"
You shake your head. It hadn't felt too hot - at least not to you. Adam eyes you with a little confusion, before going to check this fact for himself.
The yelp he lets out upon touching the cake tin makes you jump.
"Hot," he hisses in pain. His hand is a little red, and he rushes to the sink to start running it under some water. "Really, really hot."
"I-I'm sorry," he had startled you slightly, though it hadn't been his intention to. You feel at fault for this, though you're not entirely sure how. A guilt inside you tells you that you should have warned him it was hot. Why had it not felt hot for you? You had felt the heat of the oven on your face, so why did your hand not feel that too? Why was it so easy to handle for you?
"Don't say sorry. Not your fault." Adam winces a little as he moves his hand under the tap, ensuring all of the red skin is covered and wet. "Did it hurt you?"
You're about to shake your head again, until you turn your uncovered palm to face you, and your eyes widen at what you see. The skin is red and beginning to blister. Even as you flex it, it only stings slightly, though your brain tells you that something like this should be sore. It looks sore.
Adam looks worried as he watches you, though he offers you an attempt at a reassuring smile.
"Come here. Cold helps. Saw it in a movie."
You make your way to the sink, and Adam guides your hand underneath the cold stream. It feels pleasant, though it doesn't seem to fill you with the same major relief that he appeared to experience. Your back is pressed against his strong front, his other arm wrapped gently around you as a comfort, and the occasional soft kiss is pressed to your hair as he holds your hand gently under the water. The heat rises up your face once again, and a part of you wonders if the cold would help that too.
What had been planned by Adam as a wholesome afternoon results in you discovering bandages and burn cream. Adam had applied them tenderly, though you wonder if the feeling should have stung more than it did. The skin looks damaged, and sore, but you barely even sense it. It makes you feel a little bit broken still, no matter how much Adam tells you that you're not. The feeling of being different and broken had long been festering inside of you, though you shut the feeling down today, not wanting to ruin any of this. Adam clearly wanted today to be special, and what mattered to him, mattered to you.
Bandaged and feeling better, you eventually get the chance to have some of the cake, though it isn't quite like the ones you had seen in your magazines, nor is it anything like the picture on the cookbook. It's absolutely nothing like what you expect. Your teeth crunch on eggshells, and the taste isn't as sweet as you would have thought. You manage a couple of bites before you end up giving up on it.
After this is done, Adam invites you out to go for a walk. It's cold, so you wrap up before you head out, protected from the chilly air in one of his jackets that's just the slightest bit too big for you. Adam holds your burn free hand as you set off. He mentions there's a nice museum not too far from where he had first met you - you had never been to one, and he's eagerly telling you all about it as you make your way there.
When you approach the museum, Adam's hand is still tight on yours, though reassuringly so. It was a busy place, and you’re still not as desensitised to the crowds and commotion as he was, though you were getting more confident over time.
The museum itself is a little more peaceful than outside, though you're faced with a new problem upon entering. It's an entirely new experience in so many different ways, and your head almost feels sore from all of the new information you're attempting to take in as you walk around the building. So many years of history, so many creatures and cultures and artworks that you've never before seen or so much as heard of. It almost makes you a little bit emotional, a swelling in your chest rising as the hairs stand on your skin, though you're not entirely sure why.
Adam is eagerly leading you around each room, reading out stories and names from signs next to each thing you see. You like listening to him like this, excitedly explaining the meaning of everything and telling you the facts about it all. He almost gets even more excited when you ask him extra questions about the exhibits.
Though fascinating, there are many parts of the museum that you don't fully understand. It’s all very confusing to you, though it interests you greatly. You love it all the same, if even only because of the opportunity it gives to listen to Adam all day.
At some point in your Adam-guided tour, you stumble upon the gift shop. It's well stocked and inviting, the merchandise enticing you both as you eye it up from outside. There's a stand in the shop that hosts an array of cards, numerous drawings and photos donning the fronts, and your eye is drawn straight to it. Some are just photos of various animals, cartoons and paintings, but some are similar in nature to the one Adam had gifted you this morning.
The gift shop is large enough that you both drift apart slightly inside, though not too large that you totally lose each other. Adam wanders off to some far corner at some point, and this gives you the perfect opportunity to pick out something in return for what he had made you this morning. There's a new feeling in you as you eye up the card stand, like a worry though much more positive, like you're excited but stressed all at the same time. There are so many cards to choose from, how are you supposed to know which one Adam would want?
Assessing your surroundings, you turn and notice Adam talking to the lady who seems to work here. There's something in his hand, and he hands her some else, a few dollar bills, before he makes his way in your direction. In a very slight panic you end up just grabbing a card, any card, almost letting your hand instinctively guide you towards something random. The one you pick is hopefully appropriate, saying something about bears, and hugs. You can't fully make out what it says, but it's pink and cute and the cartoon animals look sweet, and you hope it's quite fitting for the day. You're relieved to at least have settled on something.
As if on cue Adam appears by your side, holding something soft and fluffy up towards you.
"I got this, for you." His smile is once again wide, and there's a pink tint to his cheeks as he looks at you. He's holding a fluffy stuffed bear, a lot like the ones on the front of the card you had picked out, and it has a little red heart between its paws.
You almost drop your card as you take the bear from his hands. Your heart feels like it may explode as you hold it, and you can't help the beaming smile that stretches across all of your face from the gesture. The bear is like something you had seen children in movies play with, soft and gentle and safe feeling. Much like Adam.
You catch Adam by surprise when your arms wrap tight around his middle, and he returns the embrace until you remember that you've gotten him something of your own. He's reluctant to let go of you, but you beam brightly up at him when he does, holding the stuffed bear in one hand and his card in the other.
"Here." His mouth falls open a little. "For you, for Valentines."
When Adam sees the card, it takes him a moment longer than normal to react. He takes it in his hands and stares down at it, and you worry for a moment that he doesn't like it, though it ends up being the complete opposite case. You don't recognise the expression on his face before he pulls you into another one of his unintentionally crushing hugs. His face buries into your neck as he does so, and his breath tickles your skin. Another whole heap of butterflies flutter around in your stomach.
"Thank you." He pulls you in even closer to his chest. "Thank you. I like you. I love the card. I like having you as my girl."
"Thank you for today Adam." You almost feel teary as you think of the way he's treated you, not only today, but since he met you. Before, you never even knew safe warmth like this existed. Now it's practically all you know. "I like you too... a lot."
I was wondering if we could learn more about Amiable's (did I spell that right) backstory :3
Thank you if you do answer it and byee :>
hi !! :D oooh yes yay more oc stuff yummy 😋
close on the name btw, it is AIMable. two words into one name and it is pronounced exactly how you think it would be lol.
now to be honest...im still trying to work everything out regarding his backstory lol. but ill lay out what i have here:
aimable andrepont was born mere minutes before his twin sister, annette andrepont, on february 14th, 1894 (yes i made his birthday on the traditional date for valentines day isn't that cute i thought it was lol). he was noticeable lighter skinned than her, but the parents of the two of them did not pay much mind, nor did the nurses or doctors that cared for them, consitering albinism was not something medically recognized until 1908. he lived a average to lower class life for his first three years; he was content and comfortable, though he didn't know much. when he turned four, his skin condition was very prominent and clear, making his parents turn against him until they made the decision to drop him off at a catholic orphanage some hours away from their home, guaranteeing he would have no way of remembering enough to attempt to travel back home. orphans in this time were generally not treated kindly, and aimable had the even shorter end of the stick. many thought he had been cursed by the devil, and tried to cleanse him of his "evil", though that "never worked". others thought he was sick, and he was given medications to try to "cure" him, which also "never worked". he was neglected, beaten, and despised, even by other fellow children starting as early as 5 years old. in any attempt to be treated kindly, he would go out of his way to do various tasks and chores for people to appease, and would act insincerly happy and optimistic towards anyone he saw or regarding anything that happened to him. this went on for some time, before he became "old news", or had been fully seen as "worthless case", someone that could not be "fixed". when he did discover his peculiarity around 16, he actively ignored it; he had enough problems, and had thought the ability was even more of a curse being put onto him than he thought he already had. he begged for forgiveness and cried himself to sleep every night in hope that his skin condition and his peculiarity would go away by the next morning.
phew, bunch of angst right there lol. after all this he is found by a ymbryne and then he's chillin after that. but then yk. all this trauma causes him to be a jerk.
