#it’s my first actually finished sweater and i didn’t follow a pattern so obviously it’s not perfect

[newyorkxpizza]

finally finished this sweater i started like two years ago and i don’t even like it i want to frog it and redo the whole thing

[fridayfirefly]

All For The Investigation

Read All For The Investigation on AO3

Masterlist

By Tim’s calculations, there was an 87% certain that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was the Parisian former hero Ladybug. However, 87% was not 100%, so Bruce required further investigation. Damian was stuck with the job.

Except, Damian knew that stuck wasn't exactly the right word. Stuck implied that he was displeased with the situation. Damian wasn't displeased. Marinette Dupain-Cheng was the most pleasant person in all of Gotham Academy. If Damian had to choose anyone to be forced to spend time with, he would choose Marinette. Though he grumbled about being forced to spend time with plebeians (for the benefit of his brothers, who would mercilessly tease Damian if they even suspected that he had a crush), Damian was quite pleased by the assignment.

Given that Marinette was in his history class, it was quite easy to arrange a situation in which they were forced to be in each others' proximities. When their teacher announced that there would be an upcoming group project with randomly assigned partnerships, it was simple for Damian to break into her office and switch around some of the names. When the partnerships were announced and Marinette and Damian were paired together, Damian made his move.

"Dupain-Cheng, if you would like to work on the project over the weekend, we can do so at my house."

"Sounds good, Wayne, but you know, you can just call me Marinette," said Marinette with a smile.

Damian felt flustered, which was a very bad sign. He never felt anything less than perfectly composed. "Then you may call me Damian."

Marinette's smile got even bigger. There was a feeling in his chest that, had it been caused by anyone else, Damian would have suspected it to be a complication of the broken ribs from Joker's last attack. "Let me give you my number, and we can plan a meeting this weekend. Would Saturday work for you?"

Damian nodded as he handed Marinette his phone. "My schedule is free on Saturday."

"Great!" chirped Marinette. She plugged in her number, then posed for a picture, explaining that it was, "For the contact photo."

And if in the privacy of his bedroom, Damian stared at that contact photo for twenty-minutes straight, it was just for research purposes. Just to compare Marinette's facial structure to that of Ladybug. Completely normal investigative business.

The next morning, Damian found his way to the bedroom of his most tolerable brother. "Grayson. Can I confide in you without any of the information getting to anyone else?"

Richard glanced up from his laptop. "Sure thing, Baby Bird." He patted a spot on the bed next to him,

"Don't call me that. I despise nicknames," grumbled Damian. He took a seat, staring at the wall in front of him, still weighing the risk versus reward of talking to Richard. If his brother had some technique for extinguishing romantic interest it would solve Damian's problem. However, if either Drake or Todd got word of Damian's crush there was no doubt in Damian's mind that they would never let him hear the end of it.

"So what's on your mind?"

"It pertains to the girl in my who Drake suspects to be Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She has become difficult to investigate. I have found myself unable to observe her objectively."

Richard frowned. "I'm not sure I know what you mean. Is it something that she did that's bothering you?"

Damian searched for the right words to explain the situation. He was not usually so tongue-tied, but the proper words seemed to escape him at every turn. "Dupain-Cheng is not what I expected. I assumed that it would be a simple task, to observe her and determine whether she has any connection to the Parisian superhero. However, I have found it difficult to concentrate on my mission when I am around her."

"You find it difficult to concentrate when you're around her. How so?"

Damian gritted his teeth. He didn't want to spell out his crush so obviously, but Richard seemed incapable of looking between the lines. "I have found myself preoccupied with trivial things like getting to know her personality, rather than investigating her background. She makes me feel... flustered."

Damian could see the moment that Richard made the connection. His brother's face lit up as he exclaimed, "You have a crush on her?!"

"Quiet!" snapped Damian. "This does not leave this room. I need to learn how to get rid of it, so I can get back to completing the mission."

Richard was grinning ear to ear. "That's not how crushes work. You can't just snap your fingers and have them disappear. The only thing that can get rid of a crush is time. Or sometimes if they get a haircut that kills the feeling. But mostly it just takes time."

"I cannot afford to wait for these feelings to fade. I'll look into scheduling her a haircut." Damian stood up, resolved to get rid of his crush before Marinette came over later that day to work on their project.

"No wait," Richard grabbed Damian's arm. "I doubt that your attraction to her is so shallow that a haircut would destroy the feelings you have for her. This is something that you'll have to talk to her about."

Damian frowned. "Perhaps I should give the mission to someone else. Jon could transfer to Gotham Academy for the semester. His detective skills are lacking but his judgment would be less clouded than mine. If I ignore her for long enough I'm sure that I can evade talking about my feelings."

"Why don't you just ignore the mission for a few weeks while you get to know her."

Damian fixed Richard with a death glare. "I cannot ignore this mission. Father gave it to me personally."

"How about twenty-four hours? You spend the next twenty-four hours in getting-to-know-her mode rather than background-check mode and at the end of it, we can regroup and decide what to do next. If you actually get to know her, you'll better understand the depths of your feelings. Once you have that understanding, you'll be able to see if waiting out your crush is a viable option or if you need to pass on the responsibilities to someone else."

It wasn't the perfect solution, but it was better than anything Damian had come up with. Anything that could potentially alleviate Damian's inability to focus on the investigation was worth trying. "Fine," Damian replied curtly. "Thank you for your assistance."

"No problem," said Richard. "You know, I would love to get to meet Marinette sometime."

"Don't push your luck," grumbled Damian, ignoring Richard's laughter as he stood up and left the room. There would be no way to hide the fact that Marinette was coming over to the Manor from his family. There was also no way that his family wouldn't intrude upon Damian and Marinette as they worked. However, if he explained everything beforehand and phrased everything in precisely the right way, he might be able to pass off his odd behavior towards Marinette as a part of his investigation. Damian pulled out his phone and composed a text to send to the family groupchat.

Damian: Dupain-Cheng is coming to the Manor at approximately 22:00 to work on a history project. I will be covertly conducting my investigation. From what I have gathered, she would respond better to subtle questioning, rather than a straightforward interrogation.

Tim: wait does subtle interrogation mean that you'll be flirting with her???

Jason: I need to see this

Steph: I'm willing to bet money that his flirting offends Marinette so much she storms out of the Manor before Damian can finish the mission

Dick: No way. I'll bet 20 dollars that his flirting works too well

Steph: done

Damian huffed, half tempted to call off his meeting with Marinette. His siblings were insufferable.

Damian: Please refrain from intervening. Confirming that Dupain-Cheng is Ladybug is a vital first step in determining whether the Justice League needs to interfere in the affairs of the Order of the Miraculous.

Bruce: Damian is correct. No one will bother him while he is working with Marinette.

Damian smirked as he turned his phone off. His plan wasn't foolproof, of course, but a direct order from Bruce to not interfere would force his siblings to be more subtle about spying on him and Marinette. The chance of him being interrupted was significantly decreased.

Damian got everything set up in the den, which was only ever used on family movie night. It was perfectly situated for the task at hand - a room small enough to be classed as cozy but big enough to not feel cramped. It was out of the way, surrounded by other equally unused rooms, so his siblings would have no excuse for lurking in the hallway outside. Damian brought in snacks, chargers, and a few books from the Wayne Manor library on Renaissance Art, the topic of their project.

Marinette arrived promptly at 2 in the afternoon, holding a Tupperware container full of gingerbread cookies, with a smile on her face. "Hi, Damian. I brought cookies."

None of his planning accounted for this moment, for first laying eyes on Marinette. Damian froze up, desperate to put the right words in the right order. "Welcome to Wayne Manor, Marinette. I have everything set up in the den if you'll just follow me."

"Sure." Marinette toed off her black boots and arranged them on the shoe tray next to the door. She was left in sage green cat-print socks that matched the rest of her outfit, a pine green sweater and black jeans. Damian couldn't help but wonder if she knit the sweater herself - Marinette's talent for designing was well-known throughout Gotham Academy, as it was what got her accepted into the prestigious high school in the first place.

Marinette followed Damian through the Manor, complimenting little details that Damian had never noticed before - the pattern of the curtains, the bay window in a sitting room that Damian had never bothered to enter, the family pictures that lined the wall in the hallway. Marinette made it seem so obvious to pay attention to those little details. Damian wished that he could see the Manor for the first time through her eyes and feel the same amazement that she felt as she oohed and awed over the decadence that Damian had considered banal.

Damian was so captivated by Marinette that he almost missed the fact that Drake and Brown were lurking in the study across the hall from the den. A text to his father about the gravity of his mission would be enough to get them sent away on some inconsequential but time-consuming task. Damian would have to find an inconspicuous time to pull out his phone during their work on the project to let his father know about their intrusion.

"Now I know why you call it Wayne Manor. This place is huge." Marinette shrugged off her backpack and set it down on the coffee table next to her container of cookies.

"Its size is entirely unnecessary for ordinary life," agreed Damian. "However, it makes for very challenging games of hide-and-seek."

Marinette giggled. "That sounds like fun. You'll have to invite me next time you play."

"I'll make sure of it." Damian smiled, surprised to find that his happiness wasn't forced. He rarely engaged in childish behavior, and even more rarely did he find any enjoyment in it. Yet the mental image of playing a child's game with Marinette was pleasant to him. The feelings he had for her were deeper than Damian anticipated.

The pair got to work on their project. Damian sent out the text to his father as soon as he opened his laptop, leaving Marinette under the impression that he was researching sources. A series of irritable texts in the family groupchat confirmed the fact that Drake and Brown had been removed from their hiding spot.

"Do you want to try a cookie?" asked Marinette, pushing the Tupperware towards Damian.

"Thank you." Damian took one, just to be polite. Growing up in the League of Assassins, he never really had a taste for sweets. Alfred's baking was the extent of what he would tolerate. He took a bite - small, to back up his claim that he already ate if it turned out to be inedible. Surprisingly, it was nearly as good as Alfred's gingerbread cookies, and those were tailer made to Damian's taste. The cookies were heavy on the ginger and cloves, just as Damian liked. "These are delicious," Damian professed.

Marinette blushed. "Thanks. I know they taste a little different than store-bought gingerbread. My parents make them with a lot of ginger."

"These are much superior to store-bought cookies."

"Thanks. You know, you're a lot nicer outside of school. You always seemed kind of grumpy in class."

"I'm not a fan of the state-mandated curriculum."

Marinette nodded. "I get what you mean. I barely have any room in my schedule for my design classes, with all the mandatory classes that Gotham Academy makes us take. I'm lucky that I have my internship, otherwise, I think I would go crazy, taking so many classes that I don't care about."

"Your internship is with Audrey Bourgeoise, isn't it?"

Marinette nodded. "I was friends with her daughter, back in Paris. Originally it was going to be a four-year internship in New York City, but I renegotiated some of the terms so that I could do the first two years in Paris, then the last two in Gotham, while she established the new branch of her company."

"You renegotiated the terms of a prestigious internship at the age of fourteen? Weren't you afraid of losing it if you pushed too hard?"

Marinette shrugged, nonchalant as if it were normal for an intern to make such a bold move. "I didn't want to leave Paris. My whole life was there. I wasn't ready to just pick up and move to a new country."

"What changed that you were able to come to Gotham?"

"There were a lot of reasons. Hawkmoth was the biggest one. I felt nervous about leaving my family and friends behind when he was terrorizing the city. After he was defeated I felt a lot more comfortable leaving."

That aligned with the theory that Marinette was Ladybug. "What were the other reasons?"

"My age was one. I didn't feel ready to leave home at fourteen and my parents didn't like the idea of me leaving home that young either. Another big one was the fact that I didn't have a good handle on my personal style. I was worried that designing full-time in Audrey Bourgeoise's office would cause me to lose my originality. The worst thing I could imagine was watering down my designs to appeal to the rest of the fashion industry."

"Your conviction is impressive. Most in your position would not worry about selling out to obtain such a highly coveted position."

"Audrey said the same thing, though when she said it, she spoke it with annoyance, not admiration. I've never been highly motivated by wide-spread success. I don't need to be a household name to feel content with life. I just want to design clothes that I'm proud of."

The fluttering feeling in Damian's chest returned with full force, alongside a tendril of anger at the unfairness of the situation. Here was the most perfect person Damian had ever laid his eyes on, and he was forced to pick her apart piece by piece to figure out her deepest darkest secrets. Damian didn't know much about relationships, but this didn't seem like the way they were supposed to go.

"You look upset," Marinette's observation was tinged by the worry in her voice.

"I'm not upset," he assured her. "I was just wondering how I never noticed how interesting you are."

Marinette flushed, her cheeks turning pink. "What does that mean?"

Damian shrugged. While his nonchalant attitude was all a bluff, his admiration of her accomplishments was all real. "Most of our classmates feel accomplished with the most conventional of achievements. Yet you secured an internship at the side of one of the most renowned fashion critics in the world and you still stay humble about it. You weren't blind-sighted by the incredible opportunity. You fought to maintain your values, no matter if it meant losing something priceless."

Marinette's blush deepened. "That's just who I am. It's not special, it's me."

"It is you," agreed Damian. "And it is special."

Marinette gave him a wide-eyed look, shocked by the emotion in his words. "We should get back to work," she said, self-consciously rubbing one cheek with the sleeve of her green wool sweater.

"Of course," Damian amicably agreed. He had pushed far enough for intel and had managed to get to know her a little better in the process. His flirting wasn't as blatant as it could have been, but it got the job done. Richard had said that once he knew the depths of his feelings he would know what to do. Richard was right. Damian's feelings were seemingly endless, a maze of all the things he liked about Marinette, in which every corner he turned was a new quirk that he couldn't un-notice. Yet Damian didn't want to pass on the responsibility of investigating Marinette to anyone else. He wanted a reason to spend time with her.

It wasn't the best situation. Damian wished that he could get to know her organically. However, Damian wasn't the type to dwell on the could-have-been. He had an opportunity to get to know Marinette right in front of him and he wasn't going to let it go.

Hours later, after Marinette went home, Richard stopped him in the hallway. "So what did you learn?"

"My investigation has proven inconclusive. I need to further get to know Marinette Dupain-Cheng if I want to uncover her identity. For research purposes, of course."

Richard laughed. "Of course."

[swtki]

My Game - Spencer Reid x Reader

This is a part 2 to Teachers Pet

SUMMARY: After Y/Ns little test, she takes Dr. Reid up on his offer. She also takes him back to the apartment. 

WARNINGS: 18+ CONTENT, SMUT, FEM READER, PROFFESOR-STUDENT, TEACHER REID, ORAL (FEMALE RECIEVING), PENATRATIVE SEX, SEMI DOM-SUB

It had been three days since Dr. Reid emailed me. I hadn’t texted him yet, too afraid of not knowing what to say. When I pulled that little stunt at his desk, I expected nothing to come of it. Just seeing his cute and pink face was enough of a reward. But it was obvious to me in the days following, he wanted to cross his finish line.

My phone sat comfortably in my hands, the series of numbers lining the top of my screen. I had not an inkling of an idea of what I would say. Should I go casual? Professional? Sexy? I mean, did anyone ever know how to aproach their crush?

Y: It’s Y/N, sorry I took so long. I’ve been kinda busy.

S: No worries, I was beginning to think I had read the room incorrectly. What are your plans for Saturday night? Theres a great Italian restaurant next to where I’m staying in DC.

Y: That sounds wonderful, actually. I’ll meet you there at 7?

S: Perfect.

I reluctantly pulled my figure from the sofa, and soon eagerly jumping into the shower. When the water hit my face the entire day melted away, and left only the anticipation of that night. I felt so special, I mean I was living my most vivid fantasies and not every woman gets to do it with a genius professor.

With my makeup carefully applied, and my dress matching my shoes, I started down the stairs. As my heels made a clicking noise, I started to feel a familiar flutter in my stomach. I was nervous; First date nervous. Though I had met him many times, and most recently met his body with mine, the event of a first date was a pâté of emotions.

The door of the restaurant was cold against my hand. I didn’t expect a high end dining experience, and when I walked in the entry way I was glad it wasn’t. The entry way was filled with cozy items. The faded rose pattern on the wallpaper complimented the display of family photos.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for a tall brunette man, it was a table for two.” I said to the hostess. She paused for a second, tapping on her tablet as she checks the current table descriptions.

“Ah yes, party of two for Reid?”

I confirmed and she led me through a hallway to our left, which led into a small dining area. The room walls were a burgundy color, illuminated by the candle sitting at the head of each table.

I thanked the woman as I walked toward Spencer. He looked a tad bit cleaner than usual, his hair was combed and tucked away behind his ears.

“Oh, here let me get that for you.” He rose from his seat and rushed over to the chair across from him.

“How gentleman like, Doctor.” He laughed and we both took our seats.

“Please, call me Spencer.” His form was more relaxed than it usually was in class, giving him a calmer and peaceful demeanor.

Dinner progressed, a glass of wine was nursed, and he insisted on paying our check. Though I had been on dates before, this felt like my first real adult date.

“How did you get here?” He inquired as we stepped onto the rough parking lot terrain.

“I took a cab, I’m thinking I may catch the train though.” I said. His mouth spread into a displeased expression.

“Nonsense, please let me drive you home. I would hate for those statistics we learned last week be applied in this manor.” I laughed and rolled my eyes. I hesitated to answer for a moment, instinctually I looked down and shifted my weight on my feet. The thought of him driving me home could end up in a number of ways; Mostly good. But, if I did take the train, it would end in a few ways; Mostly unmentionable.

“Alright, since you asked nicely.” His cheeks grew red as he avoided eye contact with me. I knew right then where our night would likely head.

“Would you like to come up? We can have a drink if you aren’t hell-bent on going to sleep before nine-thirty.” I joked with him.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want you to feel forced into anything because I know that theres a certain expectation when-“

“Spencer, if I didn’t want to fuck you, I wouldn’t have asked you up.”

Sure, having to say it in blatant terms is less than sexy, but thats what I adored about our dynamic at that point; I led the relationship.

I leaned into my fridge, purposefully bending over so my skirt lifted to show my ass.

“Well...fuck,” I said, “As it would turn out, someone stole my wine bottle and filled my fucking vodka bottle with water.” I stood up and shut the door, walking over to the counter inches away.

“One time I took the drink turn when it came to our friend-team-dinner-night, the bottle was forty dollars, which granted is the cheap wine more or less. To this day I still have no idea who stole the bottle, because I wanted to take it home.” Spencer reminisced. I laughed at his unusual way of trying to understand.

“Wasn’t really mine to begin with,” I started walking over to the sofa where he patiently sat. “I’m not of legal drinking age. But of course it tastes better when its forbidden, everything does.” I stepped in front of the man, his knees only an inch from my shin. "Can I touch you, Spencer?” I said in a soft voice, the lids of my eyes relaxed in a sweet shift.

“Y-yes.” He gasped, obviously so turned on by the way I stood over him, in power of him. I threaded his hair through my fingers and tugged back, pushing his head as far up as I could. His eyelids fell and he was no longer looking at me.

“Look at me, sweetheart. I want you to see everything.” He opened his eyes, his irises were colored with lust and desperation. I connected our lips in a long a sweet kiss. Rather than just having a mess of tongues, the kiss was filled to the brim with emotion, of pleasure that this was happening again. His lips were slightly swollen when I pulled away to unbutton his shirt. While I fiddled with the garment, he put his hands on my hips firmly.

“Can I- can you sit on my lap?” he asked, a red tint forming on his face. I smiled and obliged, sliding his shirt off of his lean torso. I started kissing him once more, this time I made sure to press my dripping panties against the large tent in his trousers.

“Would you like to take this to the bedroom?” I ask,hands resting comfortably on his neck.

“Please”, I stood and laced our hands together, leading him to my bedroom. Once we both entered through the doorway, I pushed him onto the bed, he fell softly.

I reached my hands behind my back to unzip my dress, as I felt it fall past my legs and onto the floor, I saw his eyes scan every detail of my body.

“One might say you were planning this.” He eyed my matching lace set.

“Wanted to make sure Spencer Reid had the best.” I replied, climbing on top of him so that I would be straddling him. I felt his hands connect to my waist as we kissed, his hands were warm and excited me even more. He pulled away, quickly pressing his lips to my neck and collarbone. My breath hitched in my throat as he bit down lightly on the skin. “Lets get these off, shall we?” I motioned to his pants, which had to be killing him right now. While he does that, I reach into my drawer and retrieve a condom, laying against the plush material of my pillows after I set it down on the table.

He gets on top of me , pressing his lips with mine as he rubs the back of my bra, signaling he wants me to take it off. I ,of course, reach back and unhook it, tossing it onto the floor. He grabs my tit while dancing his tongue with mine, making me more wet than I thought was possible. Usually, these actions signified a need for control, but when Spencer did it, it was like a desperate sixteen year old boy. Its clear he needed me.

“Can I...” he nods down to my cunt, still covered by the thin material of my panties.

“Can you what, Spencer?” I lace my fingers in his hair and pull, earning a soft groan from the man hovering over me.

“Can I please eat you out?” He begged. I smiled and pushed his head down, spreading my legs when his face met my stomach. He started by taking his thumb and rubbing over my clothed pussy. I bucked my hips, desperate for more friction. “Is it okay for me to take these off?” His eyes met mine, searching for confirmation. I smiled and nodded, moving my hands to stroke his hair rather than tug at it.

As his fingers latched onto the last piece of fabric that covered me, instinctually I pushed my hips upwards. He looked at me, silently asking if taking the garment off was still okay. When I bit my lip, a rose hue covered his face. He was flustered by me, by the escalation of us. But nevertheless, he slowly pulled off the last piece of modesty I had.

To re-assure him, I lightly tugged at his hair. Thankfully, he took the hint and licked a long stripe on my clit. My voice was caught in my throat as he continued making flat-tongued movements. I felt his hands slowly wrap around my thighs, pushing my heat into his face more than it already was.

He devoured me without hesitation, but when he pulled away for air he replaced it with two fingers and then when my stomach tensed and my eyes rolled back into my head, he used three. I finished with his mouth sucking on my bundle of nerves and his fingers buried inside me.

“Do you want to keep going?” He raised his head up and his thumb stroked my thigh, which he was still grasped onto.

“Yes, God yes please, Spencer.” I whined, the high fading away. He stood up off the bed and removed his strained boxers. He was beautiful; His lanky form was now a lean masculine type. I smiled at him, to which he obviously thought he was being laughed at. He couldn’t make eye contact with me, resulting to the floor instead. “Spencer,” I crawled towards the edge of my bed and placed my hands on his shoulders, “You are so gorgeous, the reason I’m smiling is because you always hide it in those sweater vests.” he relaxed.

“Thanks” he mumbles, still avoiding my eyes.

“Now please, come back here and let me take care of you.” He climbed back onto the bed while I rested against the pillows. He was nervous, and obviously he wanted to do it right. I could see his hands shaking as he unwrapped the condom and put it on.

“You’re sure?” He asks, the tip of his cock resting on the top of my inner thigh. He was easily six inches, my hand could probably wrap around and be too small.

“Yes, please fuck me.” He slowly inserted himself into my dripping cunt, causing me to let out a lewd string of words. Once again, my hands flung to his hair and tugged harshly, causing his arms to almost buckle beneath his own weight. I could feel his pelvis against mine, his muscular bottom torso pressed up against my clit. “Move, baby, its okay.” I reassure him. His hips pull away from mine, then snap back with a nice pressure. He quickly started to pick up his pace, small grunts escaping through his clenched jaw. “Do you like the feeling of your pathetic little cock inside my cunt? I bet you feel like a special little bitch now.” I moaned into his ear. “Well, are you going to tell me how much you enjoy my cunt?”.

“God, yes! I love it so fucking-“ his moan paused the sentence and he focused on getting his movements right.

“So fucking what? Go on, finish the sentence baby.”

“So fucking good, I love being inside of you so much!” He was practically whimpering in pleasure.

“Be a good boy and make me cum all over that pretty little cock of yours?” I struggled to contain my moans, I could not fall apart this quickly.

“Yes I will!” His fingers reached down to rub my clit, impressively keeping a steady rhythm. I felt the knot in my stomach becoming hotter and hotter as the minutes passed by.

“Oh my god, such a good- oh my god!” my eyes rolled back into my head as the impact of my orgasm was full forced. When my head cleared, I tugged on his hair, pulling his head so he could look me in the eye. “Gonna cum soon? Are you going to cum all inside of me?” his thrusts got off beat, he was close.

“Yes, I’m gonna-“

“Ask permission to cum, Spencer.”

“Can I please cum inside of you? Please?” He whines.

“Of course you can, baby.” With that he makes a strained moaning noise and his hips slowly stop moving. We’re both panting, while he flushes the condom I walk into the bathroom next to him. I turn to the shower and twist the hot water knob.

“We might as well get clean together, yeah?” I said.

“Yeah.” he smiles and kisses me once more.

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Epilogue)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 3498 Warnings: fluff

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: This is it 🥺🥺 I’m so sad we’re at the end but I couldn’t be happier by all of your reactions, even when things weren’t at their best I loved hearing your screams. Now we can all cry together as we say goodbye. Thank you so much for reading their story. Btw I started a Patreon for those who would like to support me. 

HEY NEIGHBOR PART 25 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

Breath fogs the window as you stare out of it, a grey haze has rolled over the city, the sky a sunless landscape of thick clouds and cold winds. It snowed the other day and what remains on the streets has become soot covered or murky slush. It’s nicer to stare at the white dusting on the branches of the trees below, taking in the soft peace of the afternoon.

The world has grown quieter over the past few weeks, your world at least. You can’t say the same for the hoards of people in Times Square, packed like sardines as they count down the hours for the ball to drop.

Graduation was behind you. Nearly two weeks ago you finally crossed that stage to receive your diploma. Technically the real one was still coming in the mail but it’s the symbolism that counted. All of your friends cheered as your name was called, tears of joy and relief welling up in your eyes as you did it– you finally did it!

Wanda hugged you tight afterwards, both of you letting your tears fall. She adjusted your graduation cap, decorated with a lightning bolt for Pietro. It was the first thing you did when you received your garments, to make sure a part of him was with you on such an important day. You left her arms for Peggy and Steve’s, then Sam, Natasha and Clint and then there was Bucky.

He grabbed his crutches, lifting himself up from the chair though you didn’t make him walk. A few steps closed the gap between you and you held him, your arms securing around him as a precaution as he balanced on one leg.

His smile was so beautiful as he murmured, “I’m so proud of you,” holding his gaze before you kissed tenderly, humming against his lips.

You’ve been dating ever since that day in the hospital and life couldn’t be better, especially since you and Bucky laid out some terms. From now on you would always be honest with each other, never holding back your feelings. You were a team who loved and respected each other to talk and more importantly listen.

Bucky managed well on crutches but there were still things he couldn’t do, taking for granted days he could have gone outside for a walk. Sure he had muscles, but his arms were killing him, especially on the days he had to go to the doctor for a checkup. He started physical therapy too, to keep up with strength and flexibility for the rest of his body.

It was exhausting but you were there to help him almost every step of the way. Showering was a pain though Bucky insisted on some independence, wrapping up his cast as he sat on a cold plastic chair that extended over the tub. It made him feel like he had aged 80 years but he got over it.

You did what you could to help him heal but the greatest comfort Bucky found was when you were cuddling together. He cherished those moments the most, when you held him, resting your head against his chest, or when his head was in your lap as he stretched across his couch, your fingers lazily combing through his hair.

It was the quiet moments together, crossing the threshold of intimacy in new ways. This was the slowest Bucky has ever gone since he was in middle school, swallowing a nervous gulp before asking if it was okay to hold a girl’s hand.

Life after had been a blur; his guard up, women in and out, no chance to settle, in and out, no connection, faces blend together, names are nothing more than letters on his phone for a good time, in and out. It was all noise, a constant buzzing in his head until you came into his life.

You’ve opened Bucky’s ears and the noise became sweet music. You’ve opened his heart, the melody it sings is a love song and he’s soaring. He doesn’t waste time on regrets, instead he spends each and every day getting to know you and love you in new ways.  

You celebrated Thanksgiving together, with his parents coming to your apartment so Bucky didn’t have to travel. George brought most of the food over, it wasn’t barbecue but it was just as delicious. And this year you had the time to bake a pumpkin pie.

Your days were spent working at The September Foundation up until graduation. Elena hired you for Metro-General and you start there on the first Monday of the new year. Ideally, you’d like to still volunteer when you can and knowing Tony it’s something he fully supported. Things couldn’t be better.

“Doll, are you ready?”

Bucky’s voice pulled you away from the window and you climb off his bed and into his waiting arms. The basketball shorts he wears reveals his skinny left leg, paler than the other thanks to the dry flakiness he’s still working on remedying. He was in a cast for almost three months and just got it off a few days ago. You went with him, holding his hand as he beared weight on his weak muscle after so long.

He just finished the strengthening exercises he was supposed to do every day and now he needed to shower. You both did actually since tonight was Natasha and Clint’s annual New Year’s Eve party. You pull your shirt off, tossing it somewhere behind you and Bucky follows you to the bathroom. He can shower without his seat now but it doesn’t mean he didn’t want help and you happily obliged. The water ran cold by the time you actually finished and you really didn’t mind at all. Now that Bucky’s cast was off you were looking forward to getting even more physical again.

Though you showered at his place you finished getting ready at yours since you could. Living next door to your boyfriend was obviously convenient. You were able to be together and still have the space you needed. For now it worked though you can see yourself moving in together. A smile stretches across your face when you think of it, Bucky playing his music, no walls in between, a far cry from how things began.

You open your closet to find a dress that would work for the theme of this year’s party which they claimed was winter except they asked all their guests to wear either red or green. You bit your tongue, thinking that sounded more Christmas than winter but you didn’t argue, it wasn’t your party. You pulled out a crimson colored dress that had a beautiful lace overlay. The back was sheer and though it was a little short you felt it was seasonally appropriate with its long sleeves. You finished your hair and makeup, finishing off with gold chandelier earrings and peep-toe heels.

A rhythmic knock rapped at your door and you knew it was Bucky. Opening the door your jaw dropped. Maybe it was the fact that you had mostly seen him in shorts and sweatpants over the last three months, and not that he didn’t make those look good, but the outfit he was wearing now looked incredible. He looked sharp in a juniper green suit with a soft tartan design, a brighter green patterned tie stood out against his light shirt. His shoes were dark brown with a hint of mahogany that reflected in the light and even though he looked amazing you were surprised he didn’t opt for sneakers to be more comfortable with his leg.

“Fuck, you look beautiful,” he spoke first, biting his lip as he looked at you up and down.

He shaved since you left him and your hands went to cup the smooth skin of his cheek. “Not more beautiful than you.”

You pressed your lips to Bucky’s, deepening the kiss with your tongue which was probably a bad idea since it only increased your urge to rip Bucky’s suit off and take him right there. You forced yourself back from him, walking towards your couch to grab your bag.

Bucky followed you as quickly as he could considering walking still felt a little strange. His arms went around your waist pulling you closer to him as his lips began to kiss your cheek, trailing down your neck. You hummed in delight, exhaling stuttered breaths, almost losing yourself to his touch before you pulled yourself out of it.

“We can’t,” you stressed, reluctantly. “We’re gonna be late, come on.”

He sighed acceptingly, waiting for you to unplug your phone and grab your keys. Just before you were ready to leave his arms wrapped around your waist one more time and Bucky spoke before you could say anything.

“I love you, Y/N.”

The swell of your heart reached your lips as you gazed into Bucky’s eyes repeating the same words you’ve known and felt for so long. After another sweet kiss you locked up your place to take the long trip up one flight.

Clint greeted you at the door, his arms pulling you and Bucky into warm welcoming hugs. Unlike his guests, Clint was dressed in a white suit jacket, with black pants and a matching bow tie. He welcomed you into the apartment that was not filled with as many people as you expected.

There were familiar faces in your friends, including Sam who was able to take off this year. Right away Bucky teased him about his red suit calling him Elmo.

“Yeah whatever Kermit. And what about this one?” Sam teased, pointing at Steve. “That’s all you had?”

Steve blushed pink, feeling insecure about his outfit choice, a cozy forest green cable-knit sweater. “Like I’m supposed to have a fruit punch suit in my closet?”

“It’s cranberry and I look good,” Sam declared, smoothing his hands down the front of his jacket.

You let the boys continue to have fun as you said hello to Wanda and Peggy, both looking beautiful in their dresses. “Where’s Natasha?”

They shook their heads. “Haven’t seen her,” Wanda said, heading towards their marble island to grab a drink.

It was decorated with a row of mason jars, each filled a quarter of the way with coarse sugar mimicking crystal snow, with a candle in every other one and a chunk of bright red cranberries and sprays of cedar leaves sticking out of the others.

“But we just got here, so I dunno,” she finished.

You were looking around for familiar guests, surely the partners of her law firm would be coming again. An older woman sat on the couch talking to another unfamiliar face, the back of their heads glowing thanks to the curtain of twinkle lights that decorated the large walls of the living room. In the corner was their Christmas tree, a tall spruce decorated with frosted pine cone garland, matte red ornaments and thick burlap ribbon.

Clint brushed passed you, kneeling in front of the older woman who looked curiously familiar. Nervous energy was pouring off of him, from the way he kept chewing his nails to the constant tremble of his leg. He smiled as he passed you again standing near the door. With Natasha still not in sight you decided to do a little digging, by way of introducing yourself.

You walked over to the woman Clint had been speaking to, standing in front of her and the two people she was mid-conversation with. The man was big, his Santa-like belly was testing the buttons of his red shirt as it stretched across the material. His eyebrows were bushy and his brown hair was long in the front, looking a little messy as if it had been brushed through with only his fingers. He had a long beard that matched the color of his hair though it had a lot more grey in it.

The woman was beautiful. The emerald top she wore brought out the green flecks of her hazel eyes and her red lips drew you right into her beautiful smile. Her dark hair was braided with a crown, the rest of the locks falling onto her shoulders.

You caught their attention, extending your hand with a smile as you introduced yourself. The older woman spoke first, her voice as soft as a songbird as she told you her name, Edith, followed by the fact that she was Clint’s mother. Well, that explains it. You see the similarities now, the glasses she wore didn’t hide the fact that they shared the same eyes. Even her mouth was the same, thin lips that grew into the same beaming smile.

“I’m Melina,” the beautiful woman said with a Russian accent. “This is Alexei.” She pointed to the man who smiled at you. His grip was strong as he took your hand in his meaty paw. “We’re like family to Natalia,” he grinned proudly.

“It’s so nice to meet you all!” you said, sitting beside them to talk all while in the back of your mind your brain was working to put together why they were here. Sure it’s a holiday but family members have never come to Clint and Natasha’s for New Years before. In fact, Natasha doesn’t even have family. The only “family” you knew of would have to come from Russia to–

Holy shit.

You find an acceptable way out of the conversation, rushing over to Bucky and pulling him away from his conversation. Your hands are jittering with excited energy, eyes as wide as your mouth is open.

“Bucky, don’t you see what this is?!”

He looks confused for a moment before his attention is diverted. Bucky looks past you to another unfamiliar person that walked in. It’s a man with brown skin dressed in all black. A dark goatee framed his face and the straps of an eye patch secure comfortably around his hairless head. Though Bucky tried not to stare he couldn’t help but notice the veining of scars stretching out across his temple and cheek. He stands tall and silent with his arms clasped behind his back waiting.

Clint cleared his throat, a nervous smile settling on his face. “Now that everyone’s here I’d like to welcome you to… our wedding.”

Gasps of surprise fill the room with everyone rushing up towards Clint as he tries to field questions, hoping no one was truly mad at the abrupt announcement. “I knew it,” you whispered under your breath, gently slapping at Bucky’s arm.

The man in black walked towards the front of the living room, clearly the officiate who asked everyone to get settled as they were about to begin. Clint knocked once on his bedroom door, before taking his place beside the man who introduced himself as Nick.

A young woman with blonde hair slipped out of the door. She nodded to him, cracking a hint of a smile before she settled next to Melina. A moment later everyone’s eyes were drawn to the sound of the bedroom door creaking open again.

Natasha stepped out looking like a dream, in a floor length shimmering ivory gown that showed off her well sculpted shoulders with its high halter neckline, embellished with beautiful beading. She clutched a delicate bouquet of white roses and winter greens with cranberry sprigs woven throughout. Natasha walked up to Clint without fanfare, just the audible sighs of those around her admiring the back of her dress, dazzling and tasteful cut outs that showed off more of her toned body. The fabric cinched above the small of her back, a small train sweeping around her feet.

She handed her bouquet off to the blonde girl, her “sister” you presumed, remembering an old conversation with Clint. Brushing back a loose tendril from her face, Natasha smiled widely as she stared at Clint, bringing her hands forward to connect with his.

Nick began speaking and you took out your phone to capture a quick picture as the impromptu ceremony began. Bucky’s hand found yours, lacing your fingers together as you watched your friends exchange their vows.

Clint’s hands communicated his words in sync as he spoke them. “Natasha, what more can I say to the person that knows me better than I know myself. Because of you the sun shines a little brighter each day, flowers have a sweeter fragrance and my heart is filled with treasured memories. Even the not so great ones like that time in Budapest that I know we remember very differently.”

A chuckle simmers amongst the small crowd and Natasha dips her head down to laugh.

“Because of you my heart found a home, and like my stomach, it will never be empty...” Clint smiled, taking Natasha’s hands in his. “...because it will always be filled with your love, a love that I promise you I will never let go.”

Natasha sniffs, brushing aside a tear as she gathers her thoughts. “Clint, you’ve given me a second chance in life, you’ve shown me what friendship and love truly mean. I promise to trust and respect you and give you the best of myself. I promise to always fight for you, never against you, to be by your side through whatever life brings. I promise to make sure we always have snacks in the house and to clean up all the stains from your shirts when you drop food on them.”

Clint’s shoulders shrugged with acceptance as he chuckled under his breath, “It happens a lot.”

“Yes it does,” Natasha repeated, smiling wider. She exhaled a deep breath before continuing. “I promise to love you through the good times and bad and to choose our love every single day. You are my best friend, my soulmate and I'm the luckiest person on Earth to be able to call you mine.”

You felt Bucky press a kiss to your temple, leaning his head against you as the ceremony continued. When it was time Alexei dug into his pocket, pulling out the rings. With Nick’s concluding words Natasha wrapped her arms around Clint’s neck, and his held her waist; their love sealed with a kiss as everyone cheered in celebration.

They pulled back from each other, Clint resting his forehead against Natasha’s. He brought his hand up, bending his middle and ring finger into his palm. Natasha did the same, their fingertips touching as they signed “I love you” before turning to face their friends and family.

Edith was the first to hug the newly married couple who made their way through everyone until they got to you. Bucky and Clint hugged as he congratulated them. “I can’t believe this.”

“I can.” Natasha laughed, pressing her cheek to Bucky’s as they hugged. She moved to you and you wrapped your arms around her tightly. “We’ve been planning this wedding for so long it was never going to happen unless we did it this way.”

“It was perfect,” you said, pulling back from your hug with a huge smile. “Congratulations, I’m so happy for you both.”

As the night went on you formally met Yelena, the blonde who Natasha grew up with, and learned about her exciting work. You were in similar fields as she worked to free people of human trafficking, mostly young girls that were to be indoctrinated into radical terrorist groups for forced marriage or even espionage.

Her work was more hands-on as she physically raided underground bunkers or warehouses. It made you feel like you weren’t doing enough even though you knew that wasn’t true. All the years spent working towards your goal reaffirmed that, and in just a few days you’ll officially move into your office in Metro-General, across from Elena’s as you begin doing what you’ve always wanted to do, help people.

You’re lost in a comfortable stare as you look at the Christmas tree, realizing the countdown to midnight had begun.

Ten! Nine! Eight! ...

You turn around, looking for Bucky in the small room that was crowded with everyone standing so close together, huddled around the TV that showed the view from Times Square.

Seven! Six ...

The shimmering ball was descending and you were alone until….

Five! Four! ...

“Hey neighbor…” A voice called and you spun around relieved. Bucky smiled, bringing you close into his arms.

Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!

He leaned in, his lips hovering above yours, pausing as you spoke above the roar of cheers. “Have I ever told you how happy I am that you moved in here?” you purred.

“Every day. It’s like music to my ears.”

Bucky smiled tenderly, sealing the small gap between you, kissing you softly as he poured all the love from his heart out and into yours. Your hearts beat to the rhythm of your own symphony, a song that had a rocky beginning of notes that stretched high and low, but now it was a steady ballad you would continue to create together with your love.

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Too Smart for Your Own Good: Part 8

Pairings: (Past) Machine Gun Kelly x Reader, (Past) Henry Cavill x Reader, Chibs x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, PTSD, abandonment, another dick move on Henry’s part.

Word Count: 6,114

A/N: Doesn’t have a completed end yet, but just giving you more content to try to get myself out of a writing funk.

A/N 2: Yea, I had fun with this one. Sorry, not sorry.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Negan had seen you pissed before, hell, he’d seen you down right livid. But he had never, ever seen you so furious you refused to even talk to him. He looked over at you with a small, tight smile as you walked into your messy kitchen, but you didn’t even glance at him as you bee lined past him to grab two coffee mugs from the cabinet.

“Morning, princess.” He dared, but he instantly shut up when you shot him a look that spoke volumes. “(Y/N)...”

“Save it.” You grumbled as you grabbed two K cups from the box on the counter and picked up the entire Keurig as silent punishment. He sighed loudly as you walked back out of the room past Simon, who took one look at the coffee maker in your arms and over at the spot it lived in on your counter, before shaking his head.

“Does the other house have a coffee pot still, or did she take that, too?” He asked with a glance to his boss, who was watching you walk up the stairs back to your room without a second glance.

“I fucked up with her, didn’t I?” You heard Negan ask his second in command before you stepped into the room and closed the door behind you.

“Ye took the whole damn thing?” Chibs whisper yelled as you headed into the bathroom to set the Keurig down.

“There’s a pot in the carriage house.” You said back with a shrug as you plugged your machine in. “I don’t feel sorry for them.”

“Cold hearted.” He chuckled as he made sure the pillows were all around the co sleeper and that Celeste was OK before coming into the bathroom. “No cream?”

“You get it black, or you can go down and deal with my father to get it, your call.”

“Yea, I’m no’ goin’ down ta flaunt the fact tha’ I stayed ‘ere over nigh’ to ‘im anytime soon.” He sighed as he partially closed the water closet door to use the bathroom.

“If it helps at all, he now knows better than to lay so much as a finger on you.”

“It does not.”

“Well you don’t have to see him for a week anyways, so it’s fine.” You said as you stepped over to turn on the shower while the first cup was brewing. “Besides, I need an escort through IRA territory and I’m not trusting my daughter’s life to a prospect. I have a lot of errands to do in the next couple days...”

“Luv...” You looked over at him with your eyebrow raised before following his gaze down to the tattoo on your rib cage that no one but him would know the true meaning of just by looking at it. He smirked as you moved your arm out of the way, and shook his head. “Ye did say ye’d never let me live it down...”

“You tore apart my garden for those lilacs, Filip.” You giggled as you looked at the bouquet of purple flowers in a metal milk can with a tartan patterned bow around it that represented his last name.

“Couldn’t show up empty ‘anded now, could I?”

“No, that wouldn’t have been right.” You whispered even softer as he stepped forward to brush his thumb across the bow.

“Does yer da’...”

“No one knows what it means.” You said with a shake of your head as you shivered from the goosebumps racing across your skin. “Negan asked if it was for my mom when he first saw it because lilacs were her favorite too, and I just nodded and walked away.”

“It’s beautiful.” He said with a glance up at you. “Much more elegant than mine.”

“You got a tattoo for me?”

“Subtle.” He said as he held up his left hand and stuck out his ring finger. “Black band, but your name wore off the side.”

“You’re so cute.” You giggled as you ran your fingertip across what was left of your name. “Who did it? Because that would have gotten back to Negan...”

“I did.” He said as he looked at the left over ink. “Did a stint in prison for possession seven or eight years back. Anniversary’a the last time I saw ye. Took all nigh’ bu’ I needed the pain.”

“We’ll get it re done soon if you want.” You promised as you turned on the water and stepped inside. “Coming? We have a lot of things to do today.”

“So no time for a quickie?” He teased before taking a sip of his coffee, starting yours, and stepping out of his boxers.

“What kinda girl do you think I am?” You teased as you shook an old, nearly empty bottle of shampoo to finish it off. “I wasn’t that easy back then, and as a mother and a woman of class...”

“Oh, shut it.” He laughed as he wrapped his arms your waist and pulled you into his chest. He kissed you gently as you went from washing your hair to washing his, just appreciating being together again. You couldn’t stop your mind from racing in a thousand different directions as he gently lifted you up and pinned you against the wall to slide into you, but by the time you both came, you realized that for the first in twelve years you truly felt safe. You felt at home.

“I still love you.” You said softly as you laid your head down on his chest. “I never stopped…”

“Was I supposed ta stop lovin’ ye?” He asked as he ran his fingers through your hair. “‘Cause even after all the shite I went through, I’d do it all over ‘gain to ‘ave ye in m’life.”

“You can protect me from the big bad world.” You said with a smile as you looked up at him. “I’ll protect you from Negan.”

“I may actually let ye do tha’, lass.” He said as he quickly washed his body off and stepped out of the way for you. “Yer da’s terrifyin’ when it comes ta ye.”

“My dad may think he’s a hard ass, but that man knows that I’m the one in charge no matter how much he doesn’t want to admit it. And he also knows at this point, now that he knows I know what he did, if he so much as lays a finger on you, I’m done... permanently. So being with me is as safe as you’ll ever be when it comes to my dad.”

“Tha’s somethin’ I’m really nervous ta test.”

“I can solve it today.” You said with a bob of your head as you turned off the water. “Because while I know he will never, ever admit it to anyone, possibly including me, he regrets what he did now that he’s been busted for it. And he didn’t feel shame for it until he saw the look in my eyes. Because it’s a look that instantly reminded him of my mom, and I know he can hear her freaking out at him in his memories.”

“It’s so strange ta see ‘im through yer eyes, my luv.” He huffed as he grabbed his coffee and went out to throw his clothes on from the day before. “Instead of as m’President.”

“Yea, it’s still entertaining to see him try to be ‘big bad Negan’ all these years later when I know the softie he can be since I actually remember it from when I was a kid… shit, I really don’t wanna wake her up…”

“Rip off the bandaid.”

“But she’s so cute…”

“Rip off the bandaid.” He repeated as he fastened his belt. “Ye said ye had a lot ta do, an’ tha’ ye wan’ed ‘er on Belfast time.”

“Son of a bitch.” You grumbled as you threw on a nursing tank, and a big, loose sweater over your leggings. You grabbed something cute for Celeste, that would keep her warm through out the day, and pouted at her as you kneeled on the bed and simply picked her up. “Oh, Mommy’s sorry.” You cooed as she instantly started to whine in sheer exhaustion. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know.”

“She’s cute until she screams.” Chibs teased as he sat down on the bed to put his boots on. “Then she just reminds me of you.”

“Fuck you.” You said in a sing song voice. He chuckled and threw on his kutte before putting her car seat on the bed for you. “Yes, I know, Mommy’s mean. But you can sleep in the car, baby girl.”

“I’m guessin’ yer kidnappin’ me like old times?” He asked as he took the dirty diaper from you and got up to toss it in the diaper genie you had put in your bathroom the night before.

“Well obviously, I’m a defenseless first time Mommy that needs a big strong man to protect her and her adorable little girl.”

“Well now I jus’ ‘ave ta protect such a beautiful woman, and this cute little screamin’ bundle’a joy.”

“Oh, we are as much of a morning person as Mommy is.” You said as you grabbed his hand and put it on her stomach so you could pack your diaper bag for what you needed for the day.

“Oh, we’re jus’ no’ ‘avin’ a good mornin’.” He said as he picked her up and walked over to your bedroom window. He talked to her like he had known her throughout your whole pregnancy and her whole, short existence, instead of only a few hours. He got her to sniffle her way to a comfortable spot on his shoulder as you took out what you didn’t need and replaced what you needed to. You silently glared at him as his humming put her right back to sleep, and he moved at nearly a glacial pace to lay her down in the carseat. “I’m good wit’ kids.”

“Fuck outta here.” You huffed as you threw on your boots and grabbed your diaper bag and coffee. “Alright, you carry her. He’s less likely to hit you if you’re holding her.”

“No’ reassuring.” He muttered as he checked his pockets to make sure he had everything, before putting the car seat down just long enough to put his gun in the holder under his kutte. “Safety’s on, don’ worry.” With a roll of your head, you threw your bag on your shoulder, and lead him out the room with a sigh.

“Telford!” Negan yelled the moment you walked out the door, but you could see the flash of fear in his eyes when he realized you were headed straight for him.

“You have two choices here.” You said where only he could hear you as you stopped directly beside him, but looking out at the lake behind him. “You have the choice to try to take him out of my life for whatever fucking reason you could come up with. Or you have the choice to be my fucking father and fight for me to be happy with someone with as good of heart as he has to step up and protect my daughter the same way you protected me after everything I’ve been through. And we both know he wouldn’t have patched if he wasn’t a good person.” You glanced up at him with tears in your eyes, and you could see your dad, the man that only you really got to see looking back at you. 

“Just know, I won’t stop fighting for him this time. You got lucky with Henry falling in my lap at just the right time and my research taking off the way it did. But you won’t be this time. And keep in mind, he and I both have to live with the physical proof of what you’ve done to us for the rest of our lives which is exactly why I can honestly say that if you try, you will lose everything. So you make the choice.” You looked back out at the lake with a sniff as you put your sunglasses on, while Negan took barely a half second to weight the options of loosing you, or seeing you with Chibs before he straightened beside you.

“Telford, get that baby outta the fucking cold. The fuck you standing there for, huh? And make sure my kid doesn’t get lost in some Goddamn throw pillows or whatever shit she’s got planned in that fucking head of hers for this place. Or better yet, make sure that she doesn’t lose her damn kid in throw pillows.” You nodded your head and went to walk away, but Negan quickly grabbed your arm and held you in one spot. You met his eyes for a few moments, letting him apologize ten times over in a simple look, and you choose to partially let him off the hook.

“Get the fucking prospects to return those vans before you get charged another day’s rental. We’ll talk later.” He nodded his head and leaned over to kiss your forehead, before letting you go to yell at the prospects and regain his control of his men.

“Wha’ did ye say ta ‘im?” Chibs asked softly as you set your diaper bag on the floor board and peeked in the back to make sure the only thing that was back there was your stroller frame.

“I told him to make a choice.” You said as you carefully shut the back door, and pulled open the passenger door. “And he made the right one.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This place looks like it fucking threw up Christmas.” Your dad grumbled to you with a shake of his head as you walked through your professionally decorated house after spending a week on the road dealing with some club shit you didn’t even care to ask about.

“It’s Celeste’s first Christmas.” You started as you looked at the sparkling entry way proudly. “And our first one not spent in a portable in years. And you know I love Christmas. Oh, and I finally got confirmation that Colson, Casie, and Emma are coming for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, so it had to be even more perfect. Ash and Ashton, too.”

“You got the fucking prospects to do all this shit?”

“Fuck no.” You laughed with a shake of your head. “I hired a company. The prospects are wrapping gifts in the carriage house because fuck knows I hate doing that shit. Paper cuts.” You said with a smirk as you looked over at him. “Not pleasant. They can do the bitch work.”

“Where’s Telford?”

“Why?” You asked as the smile fell from your face.

“Need to talk to him... and you, since I know you will never trust me in a room with him again.”

“With good reason.” You said as you gestured to the stairs. “Setting up my baby monitors in the nursery while Celeste tries out her new crib for nap time. Oh, Ash is heading over to the house later today to send me some shit I need to hang out here a while longer. Do you need anything?”

“I’m heading back day after New Years.” He said with a shake of his head and a heartbroken sigh. “I lost you because of this, didn’t I?” You hesitated for a moment and sighed loudly with a small nod of your head.

“You changed my whole life with your actions, Daddy. And his even more so. You may be the president of an MC, but you are still my father. And whether you liked it or not, you had no right to do what you did, no matter what the reason. Whether it be to keep ahold of your image, or to keep me closer to home, it doesn’t matter. You had no right. So yes, in a sense, you lost me- my trust is gone. But you are still my father, and I will always love you. So in that sense, I will still be here. You’ll see me, and Celeste, and I will always be here if you need me... but we will never have the same relationship we did because of this.” You looked over at him as a few tears fell from his eyes, and his sighed as his whole body sank with the weight of his actions.

“Your mother would be so proud of you.” He started as he looked over at you with a shake of his head. “But I would have lost her over this, too, so I understand.” As gently as he could, he reached out to pull you into a hug. “I’m sorry, princess. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know, Daddy.” You whispered back as you started to tear up as well. You both stood there for a moment, completely ignoring Simon, and the Belfast charter’s president, Jax when they walked in to talk to him, but they turned right back around to give you your space as Negan pulled away and nodded his head.

“Can I go talk to him?” He asked as he wiped off his face. “I’ll leave my gun with you, if that makes you more comfortable.”

“I’ll come up with you.” You said as you wiped off your own face with your fingertips. “You can use my room while I get Celeste up from her nap so we can go find a caterer last minute for Christmas Eve. And the gun can stay in the hall.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He agreed before gesturing you toward the stairs. You headed through the new baby gate, and up the right side of the split staircase toward the only two rooms on that end of the house, before telling Negan to wait in the hall so you could pre-warn Chibs.

“Hey, my dad wants to talk to you.” His head whipped away from his phone where he was adjusting the views of the cameras, but you nodded at him, reassuringly. “It’s OK. His gun’s staying in the hall. It’s not a bad talk, I promise.”

“‘S’more the knives tha’ got my concern.” He said as he picked up a piece of paper with the app information. “Username is yer email, password’s Celeste123107.”

“You think you’re slick.” You laughed, since the date was the day you two met.

“I thought so.” He said with a small smile as he headed out of the room, stepping over the hand gun that was laying just outside the doorway. You added the app to your phone and signed into your account to check the cameras yourself while the two men went into your room to talk, before walking over to the bed to wake up your baby girl.

“Hello, punk-a-pie.” You cooed as you gently rubbed her back. “Hi, good morning. It’s time to join the world of the living so we can go for another fun adventure. Yea.” She actually grunted at you in protest when you picked her up, and you smiled at just how adorable she was. “Oh, I know it. It’s just so hard to be a baby with such a mean Mommy. Waking you up from naps, and feeding you, and changing you all the time. How could I be so thoughtless, hmm? But that means I get to eat these chunky little thighs. And theses cute little toes-ies.” You smiled as she burst into a fit of giggles on the changing pad when you playfully ‘bit’ her toes. “Oh, I could just eat you up! Yes I could. Fuck, I’m glad you got Mommy’s chunky thighs. They are just so damn cute.”

“I second that.” Chibs said as he walked back into the room a lot faster than you expected, while Negan simply headed down stairs to find out what Simon and Jax wanted. You looked over at him questioningly as you pushed the dirty diaper into the diaper pail, but he shook his head. “Nothin’ bad. Apologized for everythin’, gave me direct permission ta go Nomad a’while ta be wit’ you. Told me ta take care of his girls.”

“He knows he lost me.” You said with a nod as you re-buttoned the long sleeve onesie and put your daughter’s jeans back on. “He knows there’s no coming back from this now. He made his bed, and he has to sleep in it and what are you doing?!”

“I bought this for ye 12 years ago.” He said as he stood beside you at the changing table where you were now frozen half way of putting Celeste in her jacket to look at a gorgeous ring in a black box. “An’ the day aft’a ye came back, when I knew ye still luved me, too, I ‘ad the prospect start puttin’ t’get’a the legal paperwork for the courts. Because I lost ye once, an’ I’d rath’a die then lose ye ‘gain. So on New Years Eve, at the exact stroke of midnight, 12 long fuckin’ years aft’a it shoulda ‘appended in the first place, will ye please, please make me the luckiest son’ov’a bitch in the entire world an’ marry...”

“Yes.”

“Can I fuckin’ finish the...”

“No.” You laughed as you leaned over and kissed him roughly. He smiled against your lips and held you in place for a moment, before pulling back with a shake of his head.

“I was gon’ wait until the day of.” He said as he pulled the ring free while you finished dressing your now impatient daughter. “But wit’ yer dad’s blessin’... shockin’, I know.” He laughed as he took your left hand and slid the ring in place. “But we ‘ave it. An’ I wasn’t waitin’ another moment.”

“I don’t blame you.” You laughed as you looked at the ring that felt so much more right than the last one that was placed there, before showing Celeste with a smile. “Look at that, baby girl. Mommy’s getting married. And if he wants to, Chibs can become Daddy all in the same swing.”

“I’d be honored.” You nodded over at him with a laugh as you put on Celeste’s ear warmer headband bow.

“We’re just gunna wait until after Christmas to let her birth father know that all the same.”

“Aye. Don’ feel like havin’ ta fight for both m’girls in the same month.”

“What would you have done if he had said no?” Your fiancé smirked as he checked your diaper bag for you and put it on his shoulder.

“We would’a eloped. But now, ‘e can bear witness, ‘long wit’ Jackie boy, an’ this little chubby thighed cutie.”

“Well now you’ve just sent me into overdrive.” You laughed as you buckled Celeste in her car seat, and wrapped her in the car seat blanket you had. “Because now, after the caterer, I need to find a dress, and a location...”

“I’ve it all figured out.” He interrupted as he took the car seat from you. “Except the dress. My club may be loyal ta Negan, but I’ve broth’a’s a’ the table tha’ want ta see a broth’a happy ‘a the end’a the day.”

“Well then you can come with me to the caterer, then I’ll drop you and Celeste back off so you don’t see me in the dress. We’ve finally got some good luck going for us here.”

“Sounds like a plan ta me, my luv. Sounds like a plan to me.”

——

You had always imagined that you would be nervous on your wedding day, but as you stood in a private room in a church of all places that meant a lot to your future husband, you didn’t feel anything but excited. You tried to keep everything simple, but still put the prospects and your decorating company through the ringer to pull off a dream shared across cotton sheets that Chibs insisted you deserved, and had already been planning as long as he had the paperwork to pull off, even if it was for the ranks of the Sanctuary’s unwashed heathens.

“You know, I never thought you’d actually get to this point.” Ashleigh said as she adjusted her silver dress around her hips. “I figured when you got engaged to Henry, you were gunna get to the actual planning of the wedding and just… not. And I definitely didn’t think you’d do it this fast.”

“Henry isn’t my Filip.” You said with a look over at her as you finished a braid of your updo and pinned it on to place. 

“Yea, but don’t you think this is a little fast?”

“Ash, I really wish I could explain this… Look, I loved Henry. I did. He was smart, and, funny, and kind. He supported my work, and didn’t mind my eccentricities… but he tried to change me. He tried to pull me away from my dad, to get me away from my club. He wanted us to move to England… and all of those things I would have considered because he made me feel comfortable. But then he took it upon himself to join the Army without a single word until the day he left, and he made that choice because he needed space to think things with me through. Yea, the things you learn after the fact. That was a nice ‘good to see ya after six years’ message.

But Filip, my Filip, the one that got away… He makes me feel safe. He makes me feel safe to let my guard down, and to not be this… always put together Nobel prize winning, Ph. D. three times over doctor all the time. He brings out an innocence that I’ve never gotten to experience because I was looking out for my dad, or drowning myself in my work, or because I was more focused on being the best astrophysicist this world had ever seen. He makes me laugh harder than anyone ever has in my life. He doesn’t just mind my eccentricities, he embraces them, and shows them off like a badge of honor. He doesn’t just make excuses for those times I have my ‘moments’ as Henry called them in public. He sacrificed being truly happy in life to make sure that I had the best life that I could. And I can’t lose that man from my life again. I can live without Henry. I can’t live without Filip.” You smiled as you picked up your silver and ice blue snowflake hair piece and turned in the mirror to see what you were doing to put it on. “And besides the fact, he hasn’t batted an eye over Celeste. Henry literally ran, and put her in the NICU for a month.”

“OK, he didn’t put her in the NICU.”

“He put me in a position that put her in the NICU.” You said as you glanced over at the clock. “But it doesn’t matter. None of that matters anymore. What matters is that the man that I was meant to be with years ago, is somewhere in this church, putting on a tie for me, and a suit that he wouldn’t be caught dead in otherwise for me, and has me excited to get married in a church of all places, without even questioning ‘God’ and all that entails. What matters is he is the love of my life… and after today, he will be mine.” Ash nodded her head slowly as she fixed your hair the slightest bit and tried to avoid eye contact in the mirror.

“(Y/N), I think...”

“Hey, Princess. You’re runnin’…” Negan interrupted as he knocked on the door while he pushed it open, and he stopped and smiled as he looked at you. “Well Goddamn.”

“You’re in a church, mister.” You reminded him, teasingly as you turned and pulled the mostly white, with a double layer of light blue tulle skirt around so it was straighter behind you. “Not supposed to swear in a church.”

“Yea, yea.” He grumbled. “Old, new, borrowed, blue, right?”

“I’ve got ‘em all covered, Daddy.” You said as you watched him walk over with something in his hand.

“Well I’m still replacing your old with mine.” He said as he held out his hand to you. Your brow furrowed until you saw the glimpse of a silver heart locket on a chain. “I don’t have to even ask if you know what it is…”

“It’s mom’s.” You said with a smile as you flipped it over with your thumb. “She wore it on your wedding day.”

“Always said she’d pass it down to a daughter. Nearly made Ash miss her fucking flight looking for it. You know I can’t remember where I put shit for shit.”

“Will you quit swearing and put on the damn necklace.” You laughed as you held it out to him. “Racing a clock here.”

“Yea, yea.” He chuckled as he put the finishing touch on your wedding day outfit. He took a step back and huffed with a small shake of his head. “You make a beautiful bride, baby girl.”

“Thank you, Daddy. Now Ash, what were you saying?”

“Oh, it’s... it’s nothing.” She said with her own smile as she handed you your bouquet of blue roses that had a dark blue bandana you borrowed from Chibs wrapped around the bottom stems. With a nod, you looked at yourself in the mirror one last time, before looking back at your dad.

“You ready?” Negan asked with a small smirk.

“More than.” With a nod, he held out his arm and led you out of the back room. “Damn it, can we just speed up the clock.” You joked as you carefully and subtly kicked out the front of your gown with each step so you would trip or rip it.

“Quit fuckin’ swearing.” Negan laughed as Ashleigh walked a little faster to get next to you.

“(Y/N), I think I made a huge mistake.” She repeated, timidly at the same time you watched Henry looking up from your sleeping little girl in her snow queen dress and a giant blue bow you prayed would muffle the noise so she could stay asleep next to Ashton in their winter wonderland decorated wagon, and over at you. There was only a moments hesitation as you ran through the list of women from the club that had come to see you as you were getting ready to wish you the best before you reacted.

“Daddy, go get Frankie.” You asked, simply as you let go of his arm for a moment. “She’s got on black and silver, so she won’t clash with the colors when she pulls the wagon.”

“(Y/N)...” Ashleigh choked as you simply ignored your ex standing there and stopped in front of the back doors.

“You are dead to me.” You said to her as you fixed your own dress and forced yourself to remain calm. “Get your son, the prospect will take you back to the hotel for your things and you can go.”

“(Y/N)...” She and Henry said at the same time, which made you round on both of them with fire in your eyes.

“I don’t know what either of you thought you were trying to accomplish here, but I’m not in the fucking mood. You, Henry, I can sort of understand because we were together so long, and you’re just hoping that maybe, just maybe I’d be willing to give you a third chance after every thing you have put me through, but Ash...? What the actual fuck. Seriously, how did you think that calling my ex in on my fucking wedding day was going to go over, huh? Good? Simple? Not likely to royally piss me the fuck off?!”

“I was just trying...”

“Well now you can just try to get the fuck out of here before I fucking strangle you on my fucking wedding day. And Henry, I have nothing more to say to you. You’ve made it perfectly clear that I am not the person you want to be with. And I am sick and fucking tired of compromising my integrity to fit into your perfect wife narrative when I met someone 12 fucking years ago that never wanted anyone but me in the first place and still does all these years later. So you both can leave. Frankie, I need you to pull my flower girl down the aisle for me.” 

“(Y/N)...” Ashleigh said as she carefully picked up Ashton.

“I said NOW!” You roared with a glance back at her. “Now! I will get you home, but you are dead to me. Frankie, it’s fine, just pull her down behind you, put her in front of my dad’s seat so you can take my bouquet, and when it gets to the count down, bring the wagon back here to try to keep her away from the noise.” You told your new Maid of Honor as you fixed your dress again. You didn’t look back as the prospect that had been watching the kids escorted Ashleigh and Henry out of the church despite their protests, but your dad stopped in front of you with a look of concern.

“You need a minute?”

“I need Filip.” You said as you searched his eyes with barely a hint of tears in yours. He nodded his head and told Frankie to go, as he walked around behind you and helped you pull out your ball gown so it made the perfect bell shape.

“What have I always told you about writing off family?”

“Fuck them if they don’t understand.”

“Exactly.” He said as he laced your arm with his. “Fuck ‘em. Now quit swearing in a fucking church.”

“Daddy, we’re both going to hell anyways.” You giggled with a glance up at him. “But I’m pretty sure we just gave ourselves the best seats on the bus.”

“Fucking right we did.” He laughed as you both took the first step down the aisle. You found Filip instantly, and watched as his eyes shifted from anger directed at Henry’s back, to concern when he saw your face. You tried to tell him that you were alright, but you could tell he didn’t believe it until you were directly in front of him with your hand finally in his.

“We’re getting married today.” You whispered with a smile as you reached up with your free hand to cup his cheek. “I’m OK. I’m finally where I’m meant to be. With you.” With a nod of his head, knowing that you would never lie to him, he leaned forward and gently kissed your forehead with a sigh of relief. The ceremony was kept short by design, since it was nearly midnight, and while there was talk of God, you barely noticed it because of the man who could not stop smiling in front of you with matching tears of joy in his eyes. You stuck with generic vows, because neither of you would have made it through writing your own, and your first attempt at saying ‘I do’ came out as a choked whisper, which made his smile grow even more.

“By the power vested in me by God and man...” The priest said as the club counted down the New Year for you. “I pronounce you husband and wife. What God has joined together, let no man put asunder. You may now kiss the bride.”

“I told you I’d marry you one day.” You whispered softly in the last few seconds.

“Finally.” Filip whispered back as he wrapped his arms around your middle and kissed you like it was the first time at exactly midnight, just like he had the night you first met in the shadows of the Belfast clubhouse. The club erupted in cheers as you held your husband’s cheeks between both hands, while the priest presented Mr. and Mrs. Filip Telford over the noise and left to get some sleep before his morning church service. You both pulled back with smiles, and you took your bouquet from Negan, who’s face read happiness and sadness at the same time.

“Congratulations, baby girl.” He said softly as he kissed your cheek before you left, since you agreed to do the reception the next night when you could get a sitter for Celeste and so the club could still celebrate the New Year. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Daddy.” You responded with a smile. With a nod of his head, he stepped out of your way so you could head out the back to collect your daughter and spend your first night as husband and wife making love until the sun came up.

[onegirlatelier]

Annie Cardigan | February - March, 2021

Happy International Women’s Day!

The pattern and colours of this cardigan are chosen specifically with Women’s Day in mind, and is named after the first woman to gain honours at Oxford, Annie Mary Anne Henley Rogers. She gained her first class honours in Latin and Greek in 1877, followed by first class honours in Ancient History in 1879, and finally matriculated and graduated in 1920.

A lot has happened in the recent few months which made me re-consider my degree at Oxford, but I have never regretted going there or doubted the value of the experience. I have been taught by so many lovely women teachers and professors and met so many fellow female students—which made me sometimes forget the gender inequality in academia and in schools of all ages—and it almost feels like nothing can make me give up the opportunity to be welcomed in this place where I am expected to actually achieve something.

Aren’t I lucky?

This cardigan is probably my last big project until July, because after a long struggle, I’ve decided to finish what I started—I will need to pass the exams in order to continue my study. Today is one of those good days where I feel connected to the world, and I must cherish my opportunity at Oxford because it hasn’t been an easy fight.

There might be a life waiting for me somewhere. Maybe it’s not going to be too bad. Maybe I just need to push myself a little harder. To eat a bit more, to exercise a bit more (not to. lose weight but to be ready for the long hikes in the summer vacation), and to talk a bit more when I feel like it.

Pattern

Once and Floral by Maxim Cyr.

It was a very simple top-down yoke sweater and the instruction was clear. I set myself a difficult task by deciding to make a cardigan instead and doing the body in flat rather than in the round, which meant doing stranded colourwork from the purl side.

The only problem with the pattern was that the required gauge seemed very odd to me. It was 26sts*30 rows in a 10cm square and the author used a standard fingering weight yarn (400m/100g) and 3.5mm needles. I used a light fingering weight yarn and 3.25 needles, which theoretically should make a tighter gauge, but got around 25sts*34 rows per 10cm. Maybe if I pulled my swatch vertically when blocking, I could have achieved what the pattern asked for, which was very tight in stitch gauge but very loose in row gauge. Thankfully it didn’t create too much trouble for me and I had only a few small mods. (Please refer to the Modification section.)

I am becoming more aware of the accessibility issues of Ravelry, and will try to discover more patterns that are available outside of Ravelry. I have access to books by Japanese designers, but if you know any good source for large, complicated, heirloom lace shawls, please let me know!

Yarn

Isager Alpaca 2, 50% alpaca, 50% wool. 250m per 50g skein.

White: (from the Eco range of Alpaca 2) #E0. I used about 30g (11g left from a used ball), or 150m.

Green: #thyme. I used about 168g (52g left from the four skeins I used), or 840m.

Purple: #52. I used about 10g (44g left), or 50m.

(I find that most skeins are a little more than 50g, so the figures are not exact. The usage of the #thyme also includes two small swatches. The whole cardigan weighs 205g without buttons.)

I’ve worked with this yarn before in my Scandinavian Spring cardigan, and this time I’m very pleased with it as well. It is made of natural fibres and has a nice wooly smell. It creates a thin, soft, and warm fabric that grows and puffs up after blocking. In fact, the Isager website specifically recommends it for cardigans.

The down side of such a soft yarn is obviously that it’s not as hard-wearing as some of the more rustic woolen yarns (such as Tukuwool Fingering). The website does state that it’s not able to handle too much wear and tear, but that is okay for me since both this cardigan and my Scandinavian Cardigan are very special and I do not expect to wear them as everyday garments.

These skeins did have travelled a long way to reach me, so I need to keep the carbon emission in mind. I purchased them from a local yarn store which bulk-ordered from the Isager website, though, so at least that’s better than buying small amounts directly from the Isager store. For this specific project, I only had to buy two more skeins of #thyme and one skein of #52, and the rest came from my stash.

(Can you see the heathered effect on this swatch? I'm swooning 😍)

Other materials

I used freshwater mother of pearl buttons. I’m not sure about the source of these buttons, but I understand that freshwater mussels are very important to the ecological systems in which they live (as are all other species), and I do hope that they come from responsible farming.

As for the thread to sew on the buttons, I opted for Fujix Patchwork Coton #50, which is 100% cotton with a coating that makes it a bit glossier, stiffer, and presumably stronger than the average cotton thread.

Needle sizes

3.25mm for the main body

2.5mm for the ribbing, because I like the ribbing to hug my body snugly and was worried about it being stretched out.

Finished size

I no longer think it’s relevant to take excessive measurements of my finished project, so I will only note the essential figures that might help me (or you) if trying to figure out how many stitches to cast on, how to adjust the yoke, etc.

Underarm circumference: 82cm

Total length of the yoke chart: 16cm

(Three ways to wear the cardigan, and the white bordering with which I'm so pleased - see Mod.)

Modifications

The most obvious mod is of course that I changed it from a pullover to a cardigan. Normally you would still knit in the round and steek the front later, but in order to preserve the yarn, I knitted the body back and forth.

I casted on 110sts instead of 120 because I was hoping for a tight collar. Then in the first row I increased to 120sts.

For the colourwork yoke, there were a few rows where I had only three or four sts of one colour in a repeat and the remaining sts are all in other colours (such as the rows showing the stamen), and for me it wasn’t worth it to carry the yarn of that colour all the way along the row. Hence I used a separate length of yarn to knit those few stitches in each repeat. For the stamen, I cut a length of green yarn for each repeat and knitted it in intarsia.

I did the body first. And then I was hesitant about the design of the hemming, button bands, and the collar, so I did them (in the order I mentioned them) before knitting the sleeves to save some brain power. I had seven button holes, one on the collar band and the rest on the button band, similar to the front of a shirt. The third button was specifically placed to echo the design of the yoke.

The pattern called for 1*1 ribbing, but I did 2*2 as it was stretchier. I did invisible 2*2 bind off with a decorative lining, and the technique is similar to what I did with my Toscana Shrug: after several rows of 2*2 ribbing in green, I switched to white and did one more row of ribbing. Then in white I bound off using the invisible method. You need to knit one row in the contrasting colour before binding off; otherwise it would look somewhat messy.)

You may know that when you change colours, there will be a dotted line on the purl side, and the same thing happens for the ‘purl’ part of the ribbing. I was really worried, but the invisible bound off seemed to have covered up that dotted line, so the result was quite neat—a nice surprise!

For each of the sleeve, I have 74sts on the set up row. I knitted 10 rows, then from next row: (dec 2 for the row, knit nine more rows) repeat five times. So at about elbow length I had five dec rows and 64sts on the needles. I knitted 51 rows to create a straight (instead of tapered) forearm. Then I dec 4 each row for five rows, and ended up with 44sts. I then switched to 2.5mm needles and did 2*2 ribbing. I knitted the ribbing extra long so that I could fold it back, which was the way I preferred.

(Here is a tutorial by Anushka about sewing buttons onto knitted garments, which is very helpful.)

Further Considerations

This was my first time doing colourwork from the purl side and it definitely was not a pleasant job. With more practice I will hopefully become better at it, though! I did reserve knitting (knitting from left to right) instead of purling for a few rows, but gave up as I couldn’t find a way to hold yarn comfortably with my left hand. I might need more practice there, too.

The ribbing is a little bit on the tight side, but at the moment I don’t have a problem with it. If I find it still too tight after some wear, next time I will remember to use 2.75mm needles. The 44sts cuffs are quite snug on my wrists, so next time I’ll do 48sts or more instead.

I still have a fair bit of Isager Alpaca 2 left, and I really need some long gloves to warm my wrists as well as forearms, so I might be knitting a pair of fingerless gloves later.

[carnationcomplex]

Person who I secretly think is very cool and funny @aspeneyes tagged me to answer 30 questions and then tag 20 blogs I want to get to know better (I definitely don't know that many but I'll try my best...)

1. Name/nickname: Chrissy which is actually already a nickname for Christine and I've been going by that since 4th grade. Got tired of people calling me Christina but now I get Christy so not much has changed lol

2. Gender: cis woman

3. Star sign: scorpio (not that I really know what that means but apparently it's sexy of me idk)

4. Height: 5'8" last time I went to the doctor

5. Time: 9:59 p.m. est (well it's 11:30 p.m. when I'm finishing this but that's when I started)

6. Birthday: November 10th

7. Favorite groups/bands: I'm a kpop bastard as we all know so you got bts, dreamcatcher, txt, and a.c.e as the main ones. I also listen to twice, red velvet, everglow, itzy, stray kids, etc. more casually. Outside of that I do listen to fob and patd (although almost exclusively vices and virtues or pretty odd) and also Daughter because I'm unwell <3 Also the musical Nevermore about Edgar Allen Poe it slaps

8. Favorite solo artists: There are less of these but for kpop you primarily got chungha and then you got hyuna and sunmi and such. Outside of that you mostly got hozier and sleeping at last (isn't he technically a solo artist?) and Marina.

9. Song stuck in my head: honestly it's how you like that by blackpink which I am annoyed about because I don't really like it that much but oh well (I don't dislike all their music just this one song in particular)

10. Last movie: I watched Jingle Jangle with my friends before christmas and a few days before that it was Klaus (which i liked better) with mck and willow

11. Last show: the last show I finished was The Untamed (thank you birdie for the worms in my brain!) and I'm now watching House M.D. because I need something to act like background noise when I'm unwell

12. When did I create this blog: uhhhhhh I think 2017? Or 2016? idk I was in high school probably sophomore year

13. What do I post: basically whatever Fandom I'm in so I used to post about voltron when I was watching that (yikes!) and now it's mostly kpop and then theres that destiel/election meme I made that got an inexplicably substantial amount of notes

14. Last thing googled: 'cat tortoise' (to check how to correctly spell tortie because I was talking to birdie about how my cat has tortie like patterning to some of her coloring)

15. Other blogs: this is the only one we die like men on main and all that

16. Do I get asks: I used to get 0 but now I'll get a few when I reblog ask games and stuff but nothing outside of that

17. Why did I choose this url: the girl I was tragically in love with in high school said if I was a flower I'd be a white carnation because of my 'pure love' or whatever and I've been sad about it ever since

18. Following: apparently it's 126

19. Followers: 109! (It genuinely used to be like 10 until the Meme got over 60k notes and I gained nearly 100 which side note why are you guys still here this can't possibly be the content you signed up for but thanks for being here)

20. Average hours of sleep: uhhh somewhere between 6 and 7, 8 if I'm on my best behavior

21. Lucky number: 21 (which is funny)

22. Instruments: guitar!! (both electric and acoustic but I've played acoustic longer)

23. What am I wearing: a navy blue sweater with thin horizontal white dashes and stripes and grey cotton trousers (also fuzzy light grey socks it's cold in my room)

24. Dream job: it's a fight to the death between being a poignant little actor in poignant little films/plays and being a LPC working with children and teens

25. Dream trip: well I was supposed to study abroad this year, Oxford in the summer with 2 of my friends and South Korea in the fall all by myself, which obviously didn't happen so I'd desperately like to still get to someday. Also a road trip with all my friends would be nice...

26. Favorite food: my mom's mac and cheese

27. Nationality: American

28. Favorite song: there are way too many songs to truly pick one but at the moment the answer coming to mind is the gambler by fun.

29. Last book I read: technically the last thing I read was the script for my university's first spring production (it's an adaptation of Three Sisters by Chekhov)

30. Three fictional universes I'd like to live in: When I was a kid I uses to roleplay being at camp halfblood with my neighbors in the woods so the percy jackson universe has gotta be one of them. I'd say the untamed because it would be cool to magically kick ass with a sword but I'm a woman so I'd probably die... Other than that idk

Alright so like I said I don't know 20 blogs but I'll tag @korimi4 @holdingthispain @waluigiapologist and @restinpeas since you're all newer mutuals of mine! (but obviously no pressure if you don't want to!)

[jadedjxsung]

‘heather’ - h.h.j

i am sad and am listening to conan gray’s new album kid krow - this is inspired by ‘heather’ from that album. listen to it. it’s sad and i cry a little bit every time because i kinda relate to it too with my actual friends... anyway. this is kinda like me fictionally venting about it but through fanfic so i hope you enjoy this angst.

genre: angst, angst, angst. highschool au.

tw/cw: swearing, alcohol (kinda underage drinking? tbh i’m assuming they’re all above 18 so idk guess it depends on the laws where you live, where i am it’s 18)

pairing: hyunjin x reader i guess? kinda but also not really. you’ll see what i mean when you read the story.

just over 3k words

-

it was the third of december, a sunday, approximately 4pm. you and your best friend (whom you were definitely, absolutely not in love with) were hanging out at his house, having spent most of the day watching movies in the pillow fort you had made in his living room. your phone buzzed beside you, under the soft mink blanket.

“i gotta head home now.” you sat up, stretching, looking down at him. 

he was pouting. (god it just made him more adorable-) “come on, five more minutes?”

“i can’t jinnie, my grandparents from out of town are visiting and mum wants me there to see them.” he sighed. 

“argh, fine.” you both crawled out of the fort, and you reached the front door. opening it, a cold wind blew in. you were in a somewhat thin t-shirt. “take my sweater.” before you could even attempt to protest, he’d whipped the black sweater off and threw it at you. it landed over your head. you pulled it over your body, instantly swamped in the soft material. (it smelled just like him too, you tried to ignore the way it made your heart race.)

“thanks.” 

“you’re welcome. it looks better on you.” he grinned. you hugged briefly, and then began the walk home, head spinning as you tried to remember to breathe. after the dinner with your grandparents, you sat in your room, in his sweater, inhaling the scent and playing with the sweater paws. you fell asleep with a soft smile on your face.

-

it was the end of the winter holidays, spring rapidly approaching. school was back, and you and hyunjin were sitting in the cafeteria during lunch with your friends. it was loud, the mass of teenagers chatting loudly. you were listening to felix as he was talking about what had happened in drama, recreating the scene with jisung. you glanced at hyunjin, soft smile on his pretty face. it disappeared as he began staring, a look you’d never seen on his face before. you followed his gaze, hitching your breath at who he was (now very obviously) staring at. he was completely mesmerized.

of course it was a girl. admittedly a very beautiful one, clearly a new student. imagine, the definition of the soft girl aesthetic - perfect, slightly curled brown hair, oversized pale pink knitted sweater, half-tucked into light blue mom jeans rolled up at the ankle, white adidas finishing the look. round frame glasses, and the perfect smattering of freckles over her nose and cheekbones.

perfect, perfect, perfect. 

picture perfect.

as she walked past your table, you glanced at hyunjin. he was, as felix would say, ‘absolutely whipped’ - heart eyes, mouth slightly agape, relaxed facial expression.

you quickly exhaled. “shut your mouth before you start drooling.” you snapped.

he jolted out of his daydream at your sudden sharp tone. “shit, was i staring?”

“you’re whipped, bro.” 

“she’s sitting alone, i’ll go talk to her.” he got up quickly, moving away from your table. you observed his body language - you could imagine him giving her that charming smile, while it wasn’t as pretty has the one where his eyes crinkle up, it was still infectious and entrancing at the same time.

“sorry, y/n.” jisung murmured in your ear. though he was smiling, his eyes said otherwise. he knew how you felt about your mutual friend and was always sympathetic towards you.

“we’ll see how long this one lasts, i guess.” you shrugged. something was different about this one, you could tell. it used to be more puppy love, but this looked more like real, romantic love. and it kind of scared you a little bit.

“i’m gonna go to the library.” you got up, bag slung over one shoulder, putting on a podcast (welcome to night vale, a long time favourite of yours) as you sat down. you pulled out your english book and a sharpie, idly doodling patterns and writing down quotes as you hear them. you had a free period after lunch, so you stayed there until the end of the day, the covers of your english, history, calculus, physics, chemistry, and music book covers were completely covered in drawings, and you had little sharpie smudges all along your hands and arms.

-

things had been getting better for hyunjin (and worse for you) - he shared a few classes with the girl he learned was from england, called heather. and she was all he talked about - until she began sitting with your group during breaks. 

“hey, y/n, i know you missed english yesterday so i copied my notes for you.” she smiled, passing you a few pages of paper as everyone met at your table. even her writing was neat and tidy, everything laid out nicely. your notes were exactly the opposite of this, being an incomprehensible mess. jisung had already given you his notes, so you folded them and shoved them into your bag. more ashes for the fireplace, you supposed.

“thanks.” you forced a smile. “much appreciated.”

“no problem!” god, her smile was perfect too. perfect teeth. it made you seethe on the inside. and, she’d taken your usual spot at the edge of the table, across from hyunjin; now you sat sandwiched between jisung and felix. while their antics still made you laugh, it was getting harder to pretend to smile at hyunjin and heather. picture perfect heather. she was everything you were not - twice as pretty as you, and kind too. it just made you more bitter.

you sighed, relieved when the bell rang to indicate the end of lunch - and you were the fastest to leave, too. music went by faster than usual, as you were practicing for your solo pieces. as you were leaving, you saw hyunjin walking by himself.

this was a rare opportunity, and so you seized it.

“hey, jinnie. movie night at mine?”

he shook his head. “sorry y/n, i’m busy. heather and i are gonna be going to...” as soon as he shook his head you sighed, regretting asking. you didn’t bother to listen to his short spiel.

“that’s okay.”

“what about next wednesday? we can hang out at mine?”

“yeah, sure!” it was the first thing that had you looking forward to being around hyunjin in a while.

-

the next day, you didn’t see hyunjin or heather until lunch. you nearly turned on your heel and walked out.

heather was wearing one of hyunjin’s sweaters - of course it wasn’t just any old sweater either. one of his favourites, a bright yellow one that you had bought for him about a year ago. of course he would give her that one. fucking typical.

you breathed in and out a few times to try and calm yourself down. at least it’s polyester, right? not like the woolen one he gave you.

your breathing didn’t really work - you sat down, (accidentally) slamming your drink bottle on the table.

“you good?” jisung asked gently. you shook your head slightly. “do you want to go outside?”

“please.” you both got up, exiting the cafeteria with your bags. it was cool outside, and overcast. you both walked across the field, sitting at a picnic table.

“what’s happened?”

“she’s wearing the sweater i bought for him, like, a year ago.”

his expression softened. “oh...”

“yeah. god- i just- i...” you buried your face in your cold hands. silently, jisung hugged you as you began to cry.

“i can try talking to him if you want.”

“i-it’s okay, there’s probably no point.”

“you never know, i’ll ask him about the sweater for you.”

“much appreciated.” you sighed. you two stayed in that position for some time. he looked up, behind you, seeing felix approaching.

“felix is coming over, is that cool?”

“yeah, yeah.”

“hey, uhh, i wanted to see if y/n was okay.” he sat down at the table, across from you both.

“i’m not, but thanks for showing concern, lix.”

“can i ask why?”

you sighed. “long story short, i have liked hyunjin for years and he’s basically in love with heather and she’s currently wearing the sweater i bought him a year ago.”

“yikes.”

“mhm...” you sat slumped for several minutes. for the rest of lunch, jisung and felix sat with you. while they still cracked jokes here and there, it was strange for them to be as quiet as they were.

-

you felt a little better now that felix and jisung both made the extra effort to try and cheer you up. hangout sessions with them both were quite common - though today it was wednesday and you were looking forward to hanging out with hyunjin. just you two. no perfect heathers to distract your best friend. 

waiting outside the main building for him, you saw him and walked over. “oh, hey y/n!” he smiled at you. the eye crunch one. your heart instantly a puddle on the ground.

“hey, hyunjin.” you began walking to his place, and it was just like old times - plenty of teasing and hyunjin being overdramatic while you rolled your eyes at his antics. all was well and you felt the happiest you’d been in some time. 

all was well.

two minutes past seven, you and hyunjin were in his room, doing your own thing, occasionally showing each other memes or tiktoks. a knock on the door caused you to flinch slightly. of course, being his bestfriend of several years meant that you had been interrupted by both of his parents knocking on the door numerous times; this was an unfamiliar knock.

and who comes into the room, but perfect heather. with her perfect smile, perfect hair, perfect handwriting, perfect everything. 

“oh, hi y/n! sorry to interrupt, i’m happy to leave-” 

“it’s fine, see-”

“no, no, no, you can stay if you’d like.” hyunjin beamed.

“are you sure? i wouldn’t want to impose.”

“it’s fine.” you got up, walking towards the door, glaring at hyunjin. “i was just about to leave.” as the weight of your schoolbag met your shoulder, you shut the door. firmly. god, how you wanted to hit him sometimes. 

-

a week and a few days later, and here you are at 1am on a saturday morning, dissociating at a party, hosted by jisung’s friend chan. you’re sitting on an armchair in the corner, with chan’s dog sitting by your feet, head on your lap while you gently patted it and scratched behind it’s ears. it was loud, and not your scene, and you hate it, but someone had to look out for slightly intoxicated jisung and felix and you didn’t like the idea of them doing something stupid (which was a very likely thing to occur if you weren’t there to supervise them). 

your charges are sitting on a couch with changbin, not too far from where you were, only two or so metres away. on another couch, hyunjin and perfect heather, as well as minho and another dude they were friends with that you recognised from class but didn’t know the name of. (jeongoon? no, jeongin.)

you shift your gaze from jeongin (jeongoon??) to hyunjin and heather. he has one arm around her shoulder. almost like phantom pain, you shiver, suddenly feeling cold. he used to do that with you. emphasis on used to.

you sit, patting chan’s dog (whose eyes are drooping, you feel exactly the same), wallowing in your bitterness. it makes you sad. in any other circumstance, you’d probably be good friends with her. she’s the definition of an angel, yet something about her makes you tick. she’s such an angel but you dislike her. immensely. not hate. it was a shame, really.

it is also a shame that with the blue and red lighting, it falls perfectly on hyunjin’s features, making him seem more ethereal. oh, how you wish you were in heather’s position. if you were in her place, you would’ve kissed him, right there. (after years of nearly doing it but stopping at the last second before he noticed and anything happened.) he’s three metres away from you, but you can picture his face close-up. he’d look so much better up close. how you wish you were heather. 

gently lifting the dog’s head from your lap (quietly apologising to it too), you stand in front of jisung and felix. 

“i’m leaving. don’t die. text me when you get home.”

jisung pouts. “aww, do you have to leave?”

“i’m not really having fun, there’s no point in me being here.” jisung stood up quickly, clinging to your shoulder as he sways slightly.

“i’ll walk you home, it’s dangerous out there, y/n. big scary spiders and shit.” his eyes are glassy and wide.

“no. no, you stay here, ji, have fun. i’ll be fine.” you force a smile for the boy clinging to you, not unlike a koala. 

“but what if like- a huge fuckin’ spider eats you?! what would i do without my y/n?” 

you chuckle at his antics. “you’re probably more likely to get me eaten by a big spider than to protect me from one, you idiot.” 

a new voice caused you to tense up a little bit. “i’ll walk them home, you stay here jisung.” 

the dark haired boy loosens his grip. “okay, if hyunjin’s walking you home that’s fine. but you should definitely not tell him anything y/n.” he sat back down again, almost like nothing had happened. hyunjin follows you out of chan’s place, nearly losing you a few times as you quickly picked your way through the crowd. 

you stand on the footpath outside as he approaches you. silently, you walk together for about five minutes, both lost in your own thoughts.

“i feel like we hardly talk anymore, y/n.”

you huff, shoving your hands further into your jacket pockets. “i wonder why.”

“well, why?” he ignores your sarcasm.

“heather.”

“what about her?”

your feet stop. you exhale sharply. this had been going on for long enough, and internally apologise to jisung for doing the exact opposite of what he told you to do. 

“you want to know? fine, i’ll tell you. i have been in love with you for years but have been too afraid to say it, when you had these little crushes on others and always having these short little flings with them but it didn’t matter because you always came back to me. then perfect heather turns up and you very obviously fall in love with her which is fair enough, and i feel horrible because she’s so perfect and lovely but i can’t help but despise her because she’s the one you love, not me. and it breaks my heart because you’re both so nice and she doesn’t deserve me being an asshole to her like this but i can’t help it, her perfection just irritates me in ways that i can’t describe. 

it’s like you replaced me, but with the perfect girl that you fell in love with while i sit in the corner, upset and bitter, because i am ultimately a coward who doesn’t know how to confess to their best friend. also, you gave her the sweater i bought you, the yellow one, but clearly don’t remember that because i’m just not that important to you anymore. everything is heather, heather, heather, with you and regardless of the romantic feelings, i miss you and want to know what happened to my best friend.” 

your heavy breathing after your rant filled the silence. 

“y/n i...”

“look, you don’t have to respond. i just needed you to hear that. i’m tired of trying to hide how i feel.” you turn on you heel and began walking quickly - your house was only a block away. curse hyunjin and his long legs.

“look, i’m sorry, y/n. i am so sorry that you feel like that. i’m sorry that i became so focused on one person. i’m sorry i can’t return your feelings, but i still love you as a friend. can we still be friends?”

you stop again, keeping your gaze towards the ground. “i don’t know if i can ever see you as just a friend.”

“so... no?”

you breathe in. “no, hyunjin. we can’t be friends.” you look up at him. you’d never seen him look this broken, this tormented, and it was because of you. you hold your arms out, and he falls into your embrace. you can tell by the way he’s breathing and the quiet sniffles that he’s crying on your shoulder.

-

it is the 3rd of march, a saturday at approximately 2am. you and your former best friend (who you are very much in love with) are embracing for the last time in the middle of the street, almost but not quite outside your house. your phone buzzes in your jacket pocket, repeatedly. 

“you better pick that up.” hyunjin said softly, pulling away from you, forcing a smile. it makes your heart twinge at the sight. nothing like the radiant ones you are used to, that you might never get to see up close again.

you sigh when you saw the caller id, answering anyway. “jisung, what?”

“you should be home by now y/n. are you safe? did you tell hyunjin anything? i hope he protected you from big spiders and shit.” he was slurring his words a little bit - clearly he’d had a bit more to drink since you’d left.

“i’m almost home, ji. he protected me from all the spiders.” 

“okay well, that’s good. i’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“yep. stay safe.” you hang up and sigh, looking back at hyunjin. “look after him and felix for me, please.”

“i will.”

“thank you, hyunjin. you’re a wonderful person.” you begin to walk down the street, looking back when you reach your front door. you glance back, and see his dark figure, slowly walking down the street. you slip in your house quietly, and manage to hold your tears in until you reach your room. you sit on your bed, in his sweater, crying into the sweater paws. eventually, sleep takes over your body, your face sticky with tears.

[random-mha-thoughts]

Tea (Todoroki X Reader)

Pairing: Todoroki x fem(?)!Reader (see a/n)

Genre: Fluff, slight angst (?) (definitely some feels), SoL? Idk

Summary: Todoroki is being sent somewhere with Endeavor for an unknown amount of time and while you agreed that you wanted to help him pack after a party at Bakugou’s, you end up not for one reason or another (maybe bc you had a drink or two and you’re a somewhat emotionally vulnerable).

Word count: 1,582

Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​ @bunnythepipsqueak​

a/n: Okay so I know I wanted to keep this neutral, but I really wanted to make heels a thing here, so I slipped, I’m sorry :(.  But if you ignore that, everything else should be fine.  Kept it pretty PG here for the most part too.  If you’re curious, Icy Hot’s wearing a black dress shirt, maroon sweater, and dark pants/jeans (I just really like this pic, the artist was really good).  And if I put it in your head that he may or may not be wearing glasses, you can do whatever your heart desires with that useless information.

Heads up though, next post should be Shinso x Reader so if you like that kinda stuff, stay tuned I guess? Yeah...

Also if you enjoy sammiches as much as I do, you’ll be able to hear Todo juust fine winkwonk. 

"Baby, you're clutching my arm very hard."

"I can't walk very well," I admit more giggly than I wanted it to come out.  "My feet hurt in these heels and the road isn't helping."  Truthfully, the path to Todoroki's apartment from Bakugou's is downhill and I might've had one too many drinks when I already have a low tolerance.  The last thing I want to do is fall on my ass and make my supportive boyfriend think he's dating a lush.  Not to mention, I'm not too mad about being able to grab his toned biceps as my own.

He stops walking suddenly and fully faces me, expression fully serious that I think he might actually yell at me for a second.  "Do you want me to carry you?"

Shame hits me like a truck and sobers me, realizing I'm acting childish.  "No, I can walk.  It's not that far anyway, I'm sorry-"

He gently grabs my face in his hands and bores his intense stare into them.  "You're obviously uncomfortable.  I'd really like to carry you," he states with authority.

No matter how many times Todoroki does this, I can't seem to get used to it.  The way his eyes glare into my soul with seemingly endless passion tongue-ties me.  On occasions when he really wants me to hear something - usually his professions of affection or persuasion - he'll make a point to softly cradle my head in his hands.  Sometimes when they come at random, he'll stare wordlessly before cracking a heartwarming smile or place a small kiss somewhere on my face before returning to whatever it is he was doing beforehand.

My face heats up and I want to avert his gaze out of embarrassment.  "I'm... I'm pretty heavy," I blurt out dumbly, saying the first thing that comes to mind.

"I can handle it.  I've trained a lot."

I can tell, I almost want to retort to fluster him too.

"Do you prefer being on my back or in my arms?"

My face turns redder at the thought of either happening.  "O-On your back," I mumble.  It's the least embarrassing of the two.

Todoroki finally releases me of his hands and eyes, bending down in front of me so I can get on.  Once I'm secured to his back like a child, his hands under my thighs, he stands up and continues walking down the sidewalk.

I tighten my arms around his neck, half scared I'll fall, and bury my face into his left side.  "If I get too much for you, you can put me down, okay?"

He nods wordlessly, which I know means he won't, being the stubborn, affectionate boyfriend he is.

I breathe into his neck, his steady walking pace calming me.  His natural fresh, airy scent mixes with the musk of his cologne.  "I'm sorry I'm too much for you," I murmur near his ear.

"What makes you say that?"  I practically hear the way his eyebrows furrow.

"I'm tipsy, walking like a baby elephant, you have to carry me back to your place like a child on your back."  I cling to him harder.  "I'm being a burden to you, I'm sorry."

He hums slightly, the vibrations caressing my arms around his neck.  "I did say I'd like to carry you."

I smile just slightly.  "You're just saying that to make me feel better."  I kiss his cheek fondly.  "Thank you, I guess."

The heat on his left side gets minutely warmer and I giggle at his reaction.

We finally make it to Todoroki's apartment lobby and into the elevator.  Though I tell him I can walk the rest of the way, he refuses to let me down, reasoning that it's faster for him to carry me.  Once we make it into his modest apartment, he strolls into his room and finally sets me down to sit on his pale blue comforter before giving me a glass of water to drink.  "This should help flush out the alcohol and keep you from getting a hangover tomorrow."

I thank him for his thoughtfulness and he moves to retrieve his suitcase from the top of his closet.  Endeavor wanted him to come on a mission in some other country for a week or so, depending on how quickly the situation is resolved.

I curl my legs up so he has space to open the suitcase on his bed.  As he neatly packs his clothes and other belongings, it's silent; I just watch him, sipping my drink as he wordlessly packs, eventually shedding his maroon sweater and rolling up the sleeves on his fitted, black button-up.  When I asked to come over after Bakugou and Kirishima's party to help him pack, he agreed, but now he's not asking me for assistance.  Not that I'm bothered by it.

He eventually closes everything up and stands the grey suitcase on its wheels, rolling it next to the door before approaching me for the empty glass.  "Tea?"

I nod, following him into the kitchen and observing his back from the counter as he prepares two cups for us.  A well of emotions has been building up inside me the entire night.  Seeing my boyfriend move around the kitchen makes me deflate at the thought of me being deprived of his kindness for a while.

Todoroki's hand brushes my arm, motioning to his room with the tray in his hands.  He leads us back to sit on his bed.  "Are you cold?" he asks as he hands me my cup.  "Do you want to get under the blanket?"

"I'm fine, thanks."  I blow on my drink and sip it carefully.

We bask in each other's calm presence as we usually do most nights.  Another thing I'll miss while he's away.

He lightly touches his hand against my arm.  "Love, are you alright?"

The term of endearment is enough to warm me up inside.  "Yeah, why?"

"You're frowning."

I didn't know I was until I felt my face relax at the comment.  "Sorry," I say instinctively.

He finishes his cup and places it on the tray resting on the floor before settling next to me, resting against the headboard and running his hand on my knee, tracing small patterns with his finger.

I twitch at the slightly ticklish sensation.  "I'm sorry I wasn't any help with your packing.  I just sat here."

Todoroki shrugs, watching me with fond eyes.  "I figured you just wanted my company since you know I can pack myself."

I smile tugs at my lips.  "You know me so well."  I drink the rest of my tea and set it down next to his cup before facing him completely.

The boy entwines my fingers in his cool hand, staring into my eyes.  "You look beautiful."

I chuckle at the compliment he repeated at least 10 times today.  "And you're still handsome."

Still staring at me with those heterochromatic eyes, he wraps an arm around my  waist and pulls me closer to him.  "I'm dreading leaving you tomorrow," he admits quietly.

I smile sadly.  "Me too."

He brushes his hand through my hair.  "I wish I had a suitcase big enough to stow you away in."

"Me too."

His lips hover near mine for a moment.  "I'll come back as quickly as I can."  He places a soft peck on my nose.  "I'll think about you a lot."  Before I can respond, his lips are on mine, slowly moving before pulling away slightly.  "Sorry, I've been waiting most of the night."  He picks right back up, holding my nape.  I feel the overwhelming love he pours into the kiss, spurring my own feelings.  My fingers thread into his soft hair, softly tugging at the strands to pull him closer.

Todoroki has no intention of letting go, clenching his arm around my waist to get rid of any space between us as he pulls me to straddle him.  His kisses get more desperate, more passionate, unspoken words relaying from him.  My stomach tumbles with weightlessness, the amount of emotion he presents overwhelming me.  His tongue lines my bottom lip before he nips at it, enticing a gasp from me.  He tilts my head to pepper kisses down my jaw to my neck before recapturing my lips with new fervor.  Cold fingers trail under the hem of my shirt up my sides, my body quivering in response as I let out a shaky breath into his mouth.  "Your skin is so soft," he whispers, "I'll miss it when I'm away."

A few more breathless kisses before he pulls away, resting our foreheads together.  "Baby," he mutters, catching his breath, "I'll miss you, so much."

My hammering heart melts at his words.  "I'll miss you more."

Todoroki places one more slow kiss on my lips before he rolls us onto our sides, still hugging me close to him and staring lovingly into my eyes.  "I promise I'll make it up to you when I return.  Would you like to spend the night?"

I snuggle into the crook of his neck and place a kiss there.  "I'd like that.  And you can tell me how you'll make it up to me."

A warm hand comes up to play with my hair as he chuckles.  "Well, I'd ravage you first of all-"

My fist collides with his chest softly in halfhearted protest.  The rest of our night ends in cuddles and quiet whispers as we lull each other to sleep in each other's arms.

[justlightlysedated]

137. “You know I could never leave you alone on your favorite holiday.”

dedicated to @fraudulentzodiacs and @bisexualalienblast and 😊❤💜

*

one.

Michael is working on the last chapter due in Calculus before the winter break starts when he hears someone clear their throat.

He looks up and Alex Manes stands in front of him wearing all black, with a long red and green patterned scarf and a Santa hat that has the words, bah humbug, stitched in gold on the brim.

His messenger bag is hanging by his hip, and he's holding something that is definitely guitar shaped and wrapped in silver foil wrapping paper.

His cheeks are pink, and Michael doesn't know if it's from the cold or something else, but Alex just exhales roughly and takes a few steps closer.

"I'm not too big on this whole Christmas thing and when I got you for the Secret Santa, I swore that the world was just trying to punish me for daring to be out and proud, because I know how much you love Christmas," he pauses and Michael tries not to flush as Alex eyes the tinsel garlands that he has draped around the truck bed.

"But I put on my big boy pants and did some research, which you owe me so many milkshakes for the amount of years speaking to Isobel Evans has taken from my life, but anyway, Merry Christmas," he finishes and holds out the guitar shaped package.

Michael looks at it with wide eyes for five full seconds before he looks back up to Alex, who is frowning at him.

"Are you for real?" Michael asks when Alex just shakes the guitar in his hold, obviously waiting for Michael to take it.

"Isobel told me you like music and both Max and Maria confirmed it, and I've seen you messing around with the guitar in the music room, but I kind of figured you didn't have one of your own. It isn't brand new or anything, but it'll be of more use to you than hidden in my closet."

Michael reaches for the guitar with shaking fingers, and Alex pushes it into his hands.

Michael undoes the wrapping paper carefully, and he can tell from the way Alex starts fidgeting that he's fighting with himself so that he doesn't reach forward and help Michael open his gift.

Michael uncovers the guitar case and it's an old and fading leather, but it looks well taken care of.

He sets the guitar on his lap, and unzips the case carefully. The guitar is well used, but also well taken care of, and looks like it was restrung recently. There is a sticker whose edges are fading into the wood of the guitar itself that says, Bonnie Ruins.

He passes his fingers over it and looks up at Alex who is biting down on his bottom lip.

"Bonnie Ruins?" He questions.

Alex gives him a half smile, "It's the name of the band my mom wanted to form when she was my age. The guitar was hers. It's the first one I ever held in my hands."

Michael exhales roughly, shaking his head and getting ready to hand the guitar back, but Alex is shaking his head.

"I want you to have it," he says, looking at Michael intent and serious. "I have my own, and I know my mom wouldn't mind."

Michael licks his lips and swallows hard and then looks back down at the guitar.

He inhales deeply and nods his head looking back up at Alex. "Thank you."

Alex smiles wide and bright and it very nearly knocks Michael back, stealing all of the air from his lungs.

"You're welcome," he answers and pulls out several folded sheets of paper and holds them out as well.

"Just a few songs, I didn't know if you knew and others I think you'll like."

Michael can't help but smile back at Alex. He sets the papers down beside him and takes the guitar out of the case, setting the case aside with the papers.

"Any requests," he asks, strumming along the strings carefully.

Alex just laughs and drops down to sit beside him, pushing the papers and case back further into the truck.

Michael listens to him talk while he strums the strings and thinks that maybe Christmas is going to be different from now on.

two.

Michael usually spends his Christmas with Max and Isobel, but there is something about this year that makes him hesitate, which is the only reason why he's walking out of the Airstream that late.

Alex stops as he looks up and sees Michael standing in the doorway. 

He’s wearing his uniform and the same red and green scarf from the previous year with the same hat, but even with it covering his head, Michael can see how short his hair is.

Michael hasn't really seen him since that day in the tool shed. He'd heard about Alex joining the Air Force from the rumors going around town. The only time that Michael had tried to approach him since then, Alex had looked so terrified out of his mind, like he was expecting his father to materialize just because they were near each other, that Michael had just left him alone.

He had thought that they would have had more time then. And right now, watching as Alex looks at him with a look on his face that looks both ecstatic and upset, he had thought that there was no time left, but of course, Alex was here to prove him wrong.

Alex takes a step forward and accidentally kicks a small stone, that hits the side of the Airstream with a low metal plink.

It's that, that confirmation that Alex is actually there that sends Michael into motion.

Alex inhales like he's going to say something, but Michael needs something else first.

He digs his fingers into the back of Alex's neck and pulls him in, and Alex exhales roughly, eyes going a little wide.

"Wha-?" He breathes and Michael muffles the rest of the words with his mouth.

Alex makes a low noise at the back of his throat, and then wraps his arms around Michael’s waist, fingers snagging against the fabric of Michael’s sweater as he pushes into him, kissing Michael back.

Michael feels the kiss sink through him, hot and heady like molten wax, lighting up parts of him that he had no idea could still be reached.

Michael parts their mouths, keeping their heads close together and  inhales deeply.

Alex sighs and nudges their noses together. Michael’s eyes flutter open and Alex is staring right at him with bright eyes.

“Hey,” he whispers.

“Hey,” Michael says back, sliding his hands down the back of Alex’s neck and wrapping his fingers in the collar of his shirt.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispers next, words pressed into the space between their mouths.

Michael finds his mouth twitching at the corners. “You got a present for me.”

Alex nods his head, brushing their noses together. “It’s in my car.”

Michael hums low in his throat, and slides his hands down to play with the buttons on Alex's shirt. "I was kind of hoping for something else."

Alex laughs, a soft startled sound, and Michael licks into his mouth, kissing him deeply.

He tugs Alex inside of the Airstream wordlessly, and Alex follows after him, eyes on Michael's mouth, trapping him right against the entrance, and kissing him hard and fast before nudging both of their faces up, "Mistletoe."

He smiles as he looks back at Michael and he sounds fond and happy, and Michael pushes him deeper into the trailer, closing the door shut.

*

When Michael wakes up, his phone is ringing to the tune of Oh Christmas Tree and Alex is nowhere to be found.

On top of the counter next to ringing phone is a black cowboy hat, the green and red scarf tied like a bow around the rim, a note taped to the scarf:

Isobel told me about the job at Fosters. Found this old hat while cleaning out my room. Hope you like it. xA

three.

Michael only remembers that Alex had mentioned having a roommate when he’s knocking on the door again and a voice he doesn’t recognize is telling him to hold the fuck on.

Michael hadn’t really thought things through beyond, Alex can’t come to him and he’s sad about it so, the logical thing to do was to go to him.

So here Michael was after several hours on the road after being awake for about five days running, standing right in front of Alex’s door, the ridiculous green and red scarf wrapped around his neck, the cowboy hat pulled low over his brow so he has to tip his head up and back when the door opens and this mountain of a man fills up the space, dressed in a tank top and a pair of shorts, wearing a seriously annoyed expression on his face.

Michael is trying to remember his name, when Alex’s voice comes from somewhere behind him.

“Hey Eddie, who’s at the door-”

Eddie moves back so that Alex can see, and Alex stops speaking, eyes going wide, lips parting in surprise.

Michael can’t help the way that his lips twitch up at the corners as he’s flooded with warmth at just the sight of him.

It had been roughly five hours since he’d hung up the phone on Alex after Alex told him that he wasn’t going to be able to make it home for Christmas.

“Guerin,” he says sounding breathless and like he can’t actually believe that Michael is actually there.

“Wait,” Eddie says. “Guerin as in Michael,” he turns from Alex to Michael. “You’re Michael Guerin?” he asks and his voice is full of disbelief.

Michael bristles immediately. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

Eddie laughs a booming laugh. “Oh no, I just expected you to be taller. The way that Alex talks about you-”

“Okay,” Alex says cutting him off. “Didn’t you say you have an early morning tomorrow?”

Eddie just rolls his eyes and shares a look with Michael before walking inside and leaving the door open.

Michael watches him as he walks into his room and closes the door behind himself, and then Alex steps into his line of vision and Michael forgets that anyone else exists.

He hasn’t seen Alex since last Christmas, and while seeing him once a year is definitely not the way that he wants things to be, at least it’s more than he expected when Alex had left Roswell the first time.

“What are you doing here?” Alex asks as he takes a step forward.

“I have no idea,” Michael answers honestly, moving in tandem.

They eat up the space between them easily, and Alex’s fingers are reaching out and snagging on the scarf and Michael’s hands are twisting into the excess fabric at Alex’s waist, and they meet in a kiss that is probably a little more desperate than usual, but Michael gives into it immediately.

Alex pulls away from his mouth. “I thought-” he starts on an exhale, and Michael presses his hands into his lower back bringing him in close and tipping his chin back to kiss him again.

Alex’s fingers press into the hollow of his throat and he kisses him harder, licking into his mouth when Michael gasps.

Alex tugs Michael through the unfamiliar room and into his room, and Michael cheats a little, and he's definitely more than a little reckless, but by the time they make it into Alex's bedroom, it's too late to actually be worried about it.

The door closes behind them with a click and Michael drags Alex into another kiss, distracting him immediately.

Alex kisses him, pushing him further into the room until Michael's shins hit the side of the bed.

Michael pulls away from the kiss with a gasp, and opens his mouth to talk about how presumptuous Alex was being when he notices the way the room is dimly lit with a soft multicolored glow.

He finds the source quickly and feels his heart skip a beat in his chest.

In the corner, right on top of the desk that Alex uses to study for his required coding degree, is a small artificial Christmas tree, the one that has the fiber optic lights.

They cycle through the rainbow as Michael watches, and he can see the too big ornaments that were a part of a Christmas present Michael had given Alex two years ago, so that he had a little piece of Christmas wherever he went.

Michael turns his gaze back on to Alex's face, who is staring at Michael with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, like he's worried about Michael's reaction.

Michael swallows down around his heart that he can feel in his throat, and smirks. "Been thinking about me, I see."

Alex scoffs and pushes him back, making him trip and fall onto the bed.

Michael bounces slightly on the mattress and Alex is climbing up on the bed and straddling his lap before Michael can even lean up on his elbows to look at him.

Alex bends over him, his weight settling along Michael's lower stomach as he leans over Michael and kisses him again.

Michael settles his hands low on Alex's thighs and opens his mouth to Alex's questing tongue.

"You're the best present I could ask for," Alex whispers, words brushing against Michael's lips. "And I didn't get you anything."

Michael drags his hands up to the waistband of Alex's pajama pants and tugs on them a little.

He tips his head back and pushes their noses together.

"I think that you're doing a good job so far."

Alex presses his smile to Michael's mouth, and then sits up.

Michael makes a low noise in protest, tugging even more on his pants, but Alex leans up on his knees and reaches for something he's got hanging on the headboard.

Michael hears the soft tinkling sound of metal and Alex settles back down on his lap, holding whatever he got in one hand.

"I've been trying to figure out how to give this to you for a long time, so don't make a big deal about it, or anything."

Michael furrows his brow in confusion and just looks at Alex expectantly.

Alex opens his hand and lets the necklace drop.

It hangs from his fingers and he shakes it slightly.

Michael stares at the pendant hitting against his chest blankly for a few seconds and then realizes what he's looking at.

He darts his eyes back to Alex who is wearing the same look on his face from before, but more, like this is really important and he's afraid of how Michael is going to react.

Michael swallows hard and looks back at the dog tags. He can just make out Alex's name and a string of numbers.

He looks back at Alex's face and leans up on his elbows.

Alex moves with him and gives him a disbelieving little smile, but he pulls Michael's hat off his head and tugs the scarf and throws it aside before he slips the chain over Michael's neck, pressing his hand down on the tags that hang directly over Michael's heart.

Michael feels his heart skip a beat and he moves, wrapping his fingers in the collar of Alex's soft cotton shirt, and he pulls him in as he lies back down, just barely brushing their lips together.

Alex settles his hands on either side of Michael's head and pushes into him, dragging Michael into a slow deep kiss.

Michael slides his hands to Alex's back, slipping his fingers beneath his shirt and gets lost in the taste of Alex's mouth and the feel of his warm smooth skin.

An alarm sounds out and Alex jolts in his hold, biting down on Michael's lip a little too hard.

He pulls back and says, sorry, before he leans over and shuts off his alarm.

Michael notes the time and looks back to Alex raising an eyebrow.

Alex rolls his eyes a little, his cheeks going pink, and he just sighs. "I was going to call you at midnight."

Michael can't help the slow smile that spreads across his face.

Alex drops their foreheads together and smiles back at him, soft and private. "Merry Christmas."

Michael just slides his hands up to the back of Alex's neck and tugs him in for another kiss.

four.

Michael is on his falling apart flip phone, trying to tell Isobel that he's busy and won't be making it to her and Noah's first Christmas brunch as a married couple, when he spots the package taped to his front door.

He hangs up on Isobel calling him a bad brother and pulls the package off with a loud noise.

He shakes it a little, and when nothing happens, he walks into the Airstream with it tucked beneath his arm.

He sets it down on his desk and finds a letter opener and opens it up.

There is a big plastic bubble stopping the smaller white box from moving around too much.

Michael spots a charger and he knows that the box is the same dimensions as a phone, but he doesn't know who on earth could possibly send him a new phone.

He opens the small white box and the phone slides out into his hands, smooth and black and silver and he puts it to charge, wanting to turn it on to see if there are any clues.

He gets the biggest clue, when the phone blinks on, and the lockscreen is a picture of Alex, obviously a selfie, wearing his Santa hat and Michael can just make the scarf out from where the picture cuts off at his neck. He's smiling, wide and bright, the opposite of his soft Michael smile, but it still sends Michael's heart racing.

He unlocks the phone, but before he can do any exploring, a message pops up to remind him to call Alex🖤.

Michael clicks on the contacts and the only two numbers listed are Izzy and Alex with a black heart emoji.

Michael presses the call button, accidentally calling him via video and trying to close out of it, but Alex responds before he can, appearing on his screen with the same wide smile, but his hair is wet from what Michael assumes is a recent shower, and there are bags beneath his eyes, and he looks like he's in need of a few good nights of sleep.

Michael feels a small jolt go through him at the fact that Alex looks like he hasn't had a good night's sleep since he came and disrupted their routine for three nights in October before he had to leave because he was going overseas.

"Merry Christmas," he says, leaning back against what looks like dull grey painted bricks. "I hope you like your gift and that you don't mind that I put you on my phone plan. It'll make communicating much easier."

Michael wants to protest, but he can't really find it in himself to.

"Thank you," he says instead, gratefully.

Alex's smile goes soft, and he looks away, over the phone camera. "It's no problem at all, Guerin.You know I could never leave you alone on your favorite holiday.” 

Michael shakes his head slightly and has to give Alex a smile, like he has no idea what he's talking about, because he really doesn't.

“It’s only my favorite holiday because I get to spend it with you," Michael admits, and Alex stops, freezing so absolute that Michael thinks for a second that the call is stalling, but then Alex blinks a few times, rapidly and looks away.

He swallows and then exhales and looks back at Michael with a determined expression on his face, eyes dark and serious.

"Three more years of this and then I'm done," Alex says, and Michael feels his heart thud hard in his chest.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Michael asks feeling breathless.

Alex opens his mouth to answer and then he actually freezes, and then the screen goes dark and starts blinking that the call was disconnected.

Michael exhales roughly and drops the phone on top of the counter, taking in a deep breath.

The heavy silence is broken by the roll of thunder, and Michael nods his head, figuring that he was just that lucky.

The phone beeps and Michael picks it up immediately, unlocking the phone and pulling up the message.

From Alex🖤: Bad reception on my end. I'll call you when I can. There are two more presents heading your way. See you when I can.

Michael just turns the phone off and looks at his other phone which starts ringing immediately, Isobel's name flashing across the screen.

The other phone vibrates and beeps in his hands again.

From Alex🖤: Go have brunch with your sister, and eat some waffles for me.

Michael just rolls his eyes and answers Isobel's call.

"Fine," he says before she can say anything. "I'll go, but only if you made waffles."

Isobel scoffs, "What am I, an amateur?"

Michael just rolls his eyes and hangs up the phone.

five.

Maria stands between the door and his bed with her arms crossed. She’s glaring at him and her arms are crossed over her chest and she’s wearing a black beanie over her head and thick brown jacket and orange and brown and turquoise patterned scarf.

She looks kind of adorable, and Michael would tell her, except he thinks that if he says something wrong right now she’s going to kick his ass.

“Look,” she says sighing. “I’m not only here because Isobel asked me to come here. I’m here as your friend. And you shouldn’t be alone during Christmas. It’s not right.”

Michael bites down on the automatic caustic remark at where was she last year when he spent Christmas getting too drunk to think straight since Alex refused to see him.

He’s about to tell her that he never spends Christmas alone when there is a knock on his door.

Maria raises her eyebrow at him and he just shrugs. He already knows who is at the door.

“Hey Guerin,” Alex says, and Maria goes so still Michael thinks she might actually have stopped breathing. “I know you’re in there acting like an asshole and ignoring your sister’s invitation for brunch-”

Maria gives Michael a judgemental look probably at the fact that Isobel has to recruit more than one person to talk him into spending Christmas with her.

“-but I have waffles and coffee and those weird peppermint chocolates that you like, plus,” he continues and his voice goes a little tight with tension. “The present that you didn’t open last year.”

Michael frowns and looks at the door with a furrowed brow.

They haven’t talked about what happened last year, and Michael had been pretending that it wasn’t all that he was thinking about as December had gotten closer.

“He got you a present last year?” Maria asks, throwing a rag from the counter at Michael.

Michael gives her a confused look. “He gives me a present every year?”

Maria purses her mouth and just eyes him in a way that Michael can’t really understand, so he just turns back towards the door, and narrows his eyes like he’ll be able to see Alex if he concentrates hard enough.

“I thought we were pretending last year didn’t happen,” Michael says, and he can almost see the way that Alex exhales and clenches his jaw.

“I’m sorry for not acting rationally while I was healing from an injury,” Alex says, and Michael rolls his eyes, pushing himself to his feet and walking pass Maria to open the door and glare at Alex properly.

“You know that that’s not what this was about,” Michael says, and ignores the way that Alex smiles at him, like he’s happy that Michael is out of bed. “If you had just spoken to me instead of assuming I wouldn’t care-”

“That is not what I did,” Alex says cutting him off and taking a step towards him. “I didn’t want you to see me like that.”

Michael scoffs. “I didn’t care then, and I don’t care now. You should’ve just told me, but instead you made me believe that you never wanted to see me again.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex says, and he’s looking at Michael with wide pleading eyes, wearing that stupid bah humbug Santa hat, and the scarf, and Michael just wishes that he could bundle him up into his bed and never let him go again.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats again like he can see the crack in Michael’s armor. “But I’m here now. And I have waffles.”

He lifts the take out bag in his hand, and Michael stares at it and then looks up at him. “Just waffles?”

Alex rolls his eyes. “Waffles topped with strawberry jam and powdered sugar,” he says, with an obvious tone in his voice.

Michael just rolls and takes the last few steps down to grab the bag.

“There’s enough for all of us to share,” Alex says to Maria, who Michael had actually sort of forgotten about.

Maria just shakes her head as she walks out of the Airstream, moving pass Michael and half smiling at Alex. “Don’t worry about me. I’m going to have lunch with my mom.”

Alex smiles back at her and then turns back to Michael. “I’m going to get the coffee from my car.”

He turns towards his car, and Maria turns to Michael.

“You could’ve said you were waiting for Alex,” she tells him, eyeing him a little intensely like she’s trying to get into his head.

Michael licks his lips and stares as Alex looks around in the passenger seat like he’s giving them privacy.

“It’s not like it’s a secret, but I’ve kept it one for so long that it’s difficult to tell anyone else about it.”

Maria nods her head and she looks at Alex, and there is a sad turn to her mouth as she asks. “How many-?”

She trails off, but Michael already knows what she’s trying to ask. “Every Christmas since he was my Secret Santa senior year.”

Maria makes a low noise of disbelief and she just rolls her eyes upwards and then walks away towards her car.

She tells Alex something that he can’t hear, but makes Alex laugh, and then she’s getting into her truck and leaving and Alex is walking towards him, a carton tray in one hand and a small box in the other.

“Merry Christmas,” Alex says and hands the box over, taking the plastic take out bag from him as he pushes past him and walks into the Airstream.

Michael just inhales deeply and opens the box.

Inside is another small square box with Michael knows is for a watch.

He opens it up and finds that it is a watch, but one that apparently times the alignment of the planets instead.

He passes a thumb over the glass surface and then jumps a little when a burst of static comes out of his ancient speakers, before the sweet sounds of Christmas music fills the air.

Michael just closes the box again and heads back inside closing the door behind himself.

six.

“We’re going to be late,” Alex says as he manages to slip away from where Michael had trapped him at the door with a slight tug against the red and green scarf he’s wearing and an, oh look it’s mistletoe.

He manages to get out of the door and halfway to the car before Michael even realizes that they're not kissing anymore.

Michael follows after him, pushing the tinsel falling from the brim of his hat, back to where it belongs, and closes and locks the door with a flick of his wrist.

"Izzy isn't going to care," Michael says as he gets into the passenger side of Alex's car.

"Your sister wants everything to be perfect and it won't be unless you and Max are there, and you don't have any reason to not spend Christmas with her."

Michael sighs and just leans back in his seat, putting the seatbelt on when Alex clears his throat meaningfully, only then does he put the car in reverse and pull out of the driveway.

Alex finds a radio station playing Christmas songs, and Michael relaxes a little bit more, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply.

If he stays still, and keeps his eyes shut, he can just pretend with Alex's low humming and the low whir of the heater that they're back in the Airstream, waiting for Michael's ancient coffee machine to finish percolating and not heading to Isobel's.

It's not that Michael doesn't want to spend Christmas with Isobel, it's that he'd gotten so used to just spending Christmas with Alex, that it was weird to share it with anyone else. 

Alex doesn't say anything until they're parking outside of Isobel's new apartment.

"It's only going to be for a few hours," he says, and Michael opens his eyes and turns his face to look at him. "And if you behave and act like you're enjoying yourself, just a tiny bit, I'll let you try out any of the gifts we got from Cameron."

Michael feels his whole body perk up at that promise, leaning in close to Alex, who is smiling at him, mostly with his eyes. "You promise?"

Alex just smirks and leans in a little closer, like he's going to brush their mouths together only to move away and out of the car.

Alex is laughing when Michael catches up to him and he traps him right against the door, nudging his face up by pressing his nose to Alex's cheek.

"Mistletoe," he whispers, and before Alex can confirm it, Michael is kissing him.

Alex makes a low muffled sound against his mouth but he wraps his arms around Michael's shoulders and kisses him back, leaning fully against the door.

Isobel, of course, opens the door, right when Michael knows that Alex forgot where they were.

They stumble a little, but Michael keeps their balance, glaring at Isobel who sighs like she's been through enough.

"I miss the days when you were just friends who could barely even look at each other."

Alex pushes away from Michael and kisses Isobel on the cheek as he walks past her inside of the house, and Michael just pouts at her.

"I was miserable then," he points out and she gives him a look like that's not her problem.

Michael just sighs and walks in as well.

Isobel keeps her eyes on him, but she has a full house. Michael finds himself surrounded by Max and Liz who are arguing about a book they're reading and trying to get Michael to side with the other, and then caught up in a game of darts between Kyle and Cameron.

He looks at Alex trapped in a game with Liz and Maria and they're all arguing over each other over the actual rules of the game, and feels warm and content.

It's not that he didn't enjoy himself when it was just him and Alex, but this wasn't something that he'd thought he'd ever had.

He spots Isobel standing by herself and looking at everyone and moves away from the others to go talk to her.

She raises an eyebrow when Michael leans next to her on the wall, and then takes a sip of her drink.

"Thank you," he tells her. "For doing this even though this year has been tough."

Isobel shrugs a little. "We all need some happiness and cheer every now and then, and besides, your boyfriend was the one who asked me to plan this whole thing."

Michael exhales a little in surprise and looks over to where Alex is laughing, bright and happy, throwing his head back in delight.

Isobel roll her eyes and pushes him, "God you're gross. Can you please go make moon eyes somewhere else? I'm trying to keep my drinks down."

Michael just rolls his eyes and pushes away from the wall.

Alex pulls away from Liz and Maria at the same time and meets Michael in the middle of the room.

He pulls something from out of his pocket, and opens his mouth, eyes shining bright, but before Alex can say anything, Michael is tugging him in for a kiss.

"Mistletoe," Alex says when he pulls back, blinking at Michael a little stupidly, lips parted, eyes wide, cheeks pink.

Michael looks above them and sees that Alex is holding a plastic sprig of mistletoe hanging from a string.

Michael looks back at him with a smile, "Izzy told me."

Alex's cheek go even more pink and he shrugs a little, reaching up to mess with the brim of Michael's hat. 

"I like it when it's just us, but I know that Christmas is your favorite holiday, and it's a community thing. I would explain it some more, but-" he cuts himself off and gasps dramatically.

"Is that mistletoe hanging from your hat?" He asks and drapes his arms around Michael's shoulders. "You know what that means?"

Michael smiles bright and happy and leans in close, and kisses him.

[ultrafangirlishness]

Alone On Christmas (Part 1)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Synopsis: Deceit hates Christmas, especially now that it’s without Virgil— his first Christmas alone. Or so he thought.

Word count: 2,808

Pairings: None romantic, all platonic

Warnings: slight Deceit angst (some anxious and insecure thoughts), sympathetic Deceit, minor arguing/tension, Christmas themes, lots of fluff, fluff ending

A/N: Hey everyone, this is my FIRST FIC EVER, inspired by this post by @max-the-queer. I had a lot of fun with this and am excited to present this totally self-indulgent fic. Unfortunately I forgot about Tumblr’s textbox limit, so I had to split it up. Feedback is welcome and greatly appreciated! (Also note this is pre-Remus). Happy Holidays, everyone!

Other parts here: 1 | 2 | 3

Special thanks to @sparkleydoggy-main​ for editing.

(I actually didn’t intend this at all, but this ended up being my 600th post! Yay!)

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Deceit pulled his cape tighter as the first couple snowflakes began to fall. All around him the town was aglow in stringed lights, the last few porch lights slowly being turned out one by one. It was 8:25 PM; just a couple hours until Christmas. Right about now, households would be tucking in for the night. Parents would be finishing the last of the wrapping, making food preparations, or kissing their children goodnight. Trees shone brightly through windows. As the snow fell harder, the atmosphere grew eerily silent, the only sound being the crunching of snow under Deceit’s feet.

Deceit hated the winter. More specifically, he hated Christmas.

Not just because of the cold, or the annoying music that always got stuck in his head. It wasn’t because of the brightly colored decorations and lights that hurt his eyes, or even just because of the obnoxiously cheery “Christmas spirit” everyone claimed to be in the air. Those were awful too. What he hated above all else, something he would never admit aloud, was that for Deceit, Christmas time was lonely.

Ever since Virgil left him for the other sides, Deceit had been an absolute outcast. A complete loner. He and Virgil would always make fun of the cheesy decorations, the ridiculous songs, and watch Halloween movies just to spite everyone. At least in previous years he could be lonely with someone— with Virgil. Now here he was, left to suffer alone in his least favorite time of year.

Deceit continued walking through the streets, hoping not to run into anyone. Maybe he could find a nearby café and wait out this storm…

He didn’t have to walk too far before Deceit became lost in thought. This would be his first Christmas without Virgil, without anyone in… how long? He couldn’t recall. Deceit supposed this was probably how Christmas would be from now on. Wandering the streets without purpose, nowhere to go, hoping he could find something to pass the time. Get over yourself, he said in his mind. If this is the way it’s going to be, you might as well get used to it.

Deceit was nearly to the late-night café he’d spotted earlier when he was pulled from his thoughts. From the house directly to his right came the creaking of an opening door. Golden light flooded the streets. Standing there in the doorway was a silhouetted figure.

“Deceit?” it called out.

After a few moments, his eyes adjusted to the new source of light and Deceit was able to make out the figure’s features. A man, most likely in his late twenties to early thirties, wearing a thick pair of black glasses and a sweater that read “Meowy Christmas” over a knitted cat pattern.

“Patton.”

Deceit had completely forgotten he lived in this area of town.

“What are you doing out here?” Patton gestured to the snow. “It’s freezing! I thought you hated the cold?”

“I do,” he said in a matter-of-fact sort of way, hoping Patton wouldn’t noticing him shivering underneath all the layers.

Something changed in Patton’s expression. Sympathy? Pity?

“How are the others?” Deceit asked automatically, attempting to change the subject. He couldn’t help but cringe at the word “others”. He had a feeling they both knew who he was referring to.

“Oh! He's— they’re, they’re great. You know how it is,” he laughed nervously, “always arguing. But you gotta love ‘em.”

Deceit only nodded, fresh out of conversation filler.

The two men stood there, now wordless, no more than a few paces apart. With the door wide open, the smell of freshly baked cookies wafted outside. Deceit could hear the faintest tune of Jingle Bell Rock coming from inside the house, followed by boisterous laughter. A familiar sinking feeling began creeping into his gut. When the silence between the two finally grew unbearable, Deceit cleared his throat.

“Well, if there’s nothing else you require of me, I hope you’ll excuse me,” he said with a polite nod, stepping away.

“Wait!”

Deceit paused and looked back at Patton, who wore a frantic expression. Patton flushed and, when it was clear he had the snake’s attention, looked down at his feet.

“No one should be alone on Christmas,” he muttered softly, just loud enough to hear.

This took Deceit by surprise. Out of anyone, Patton was worried about his well-being?

“Are you… inviting me in?” he asked.

“Yes?” Patton responded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I know you and the others haven’t always seen eye-to-eye.” Deceit scoffed at that. “But… It’s Christmas eve. Everyone deserves a second chance, right?”

“Patton, I appreciate the gesture, but why do you care? I mean, why are you doing this?” Was it possible Patton or the others actually missed him, or was this all coming from guilt? There was obviously some sort of hidden motive behind it. Some sort of trick. If he really cared, he would’ve invited him in a long time ago.

Patton’s expression just softened. “I want you to have just as good a Christmas as any. That’s not going to happen with you walking around out here all alone.”

Deceit looked away. He had a point.

“Besides, it’s only for a little bit.”

Deceit’s mind began to race, trying to think of all the ways it could possibly be a trick. Surely he wasn’t actually letting him into their lives, surely he didn’t actually care… and what about Virgil? What would he think? He would probably only try to make things miserable for Deceit. On the other hand, this was a chance to... what? Get back at him? It’d at least make him uncomfortable, no doubt. If Deceit ended up going through with all of this just to spite Virgil, well, he supposed he could live with that.

“So… what do you say?” Patton said, trying to conceal a hopeful smile. “You can come back later tonight when we’re ready, say, around nine? It’ll give me a chance to talk to the others.”

Deceit glanced at the time; that would give him less than half an hour.

“C’mon, join us,” he encouraged. “Just this once? It’ll be like old times! In the spirit of Christmas?”

Deceit knew that in fact it wouldn’t be like old times, but he decided not to say that. He mustered the last bit of courage he had left to look back up into Patton’s kind eyes. “Alright.”

•••

“Guys, come on! It’s Christmas!”

Patton, Logan, Roman and Virgil were sat comfortably around the table, enjoying a Christmas Eve dinner together.

“Pat, you can’t be serious,” Virgil said from across the table, arms crossed. “You know I try to humor your ideas, but this? Absolutely not.”

Before Patton could give him one of his “injured puppy” looks, as the group liked to refer to it as, Virgil cut in again. “Come on, Roman, this is crazy, right?” He gestured desperately at the prince, who tensed.

“I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “I’m actually with Patton here. I think it’s a good idea.” Roman felt a little uneasy, but the look Patton gave him made up for it.

“Not you, too!” Virgil threw his hands in the air, exasperated.

Roman, trying his best to ignore the daggers being stared from Virgil, looked to the fourth person in the room.

“What about you, Logan? You haven’t said anything on the matter. What do you think?”

Logan, who’d been observing silently, sat up in his chair, all focus now on him. He took a moment to sip his cup of hot chocolate before speaking.

“What are the pros and cons?” he asked simply.

Virgil quickly opened his mouth to object, but Logan held up his hand for silence. Virgil reluctantly obliged and sat back in his chair with a huff.

“Calmly. What are the advantages and disadvantages of having Deceit over for Christmas?”

Virgil raised his hand in mock gesture. Logan rolled his eyes and nodded in his direction.

“I don’t know, maybe because he’s a freaking snake, the literal embodiment of lies, and can’t be trusted?”

The rest of the group fell silent at that.

 “The pros are we’ll have one more person to celebrate with!” Roman jumped in with grand gestures. “The more the merrier! And maybe it’ll give you two a chance to, you know, make up?”

“Besides,” Virgil said, ignoring Roman’s last comment, “he hates Christmas. He used to always—” He stopped himself. “Look, I’m just trying to look out for you all. I don’t want anything to happen.”

“I think you’re just being selfish because you don’t want to have to deal with the confrontation. Can’t you two just grow up? It was one little argument!”

Virgil immediately stood up from his chair to face Roman, fists clenched.

“Hey, hey, let’s calm down everyone,” Patton said with a nervous laugh.

“Thank you, Roman, that is a great example of what will not help the situation,” Logan said, giving him a look.

Patton placed his hand gently on Virgil’s arm, whose angry expression softened a bit. Virgil sat back in his chair. “Why do you all want him over, anyways? You’re not exactly friends with him either.”

When no one spoke up, Patton looked down at his hands. “No one should be alone on Christmas.”

Virgil grumbled and rolled his eyes but ultimately didn’t argue.

“Come on Virge,” Patton urged, “I know you cut ties, but he’s not all bad. He is still one of us, you know.”

“He is not one of us,” Virgil muttered under his breath.

After a few moments of silence between the four, Logan spoke up again. “I’m sorry, Virgil, but it appears you’ve been out-numbered. It’s three to one.”

“That’s not three to one, you’re just the mediator!”

Logan just shrugged, keeping his expression neutral. “So are we decided then?” he asked, “Do we all agree to invite Deceit over, to all get along,” he pointed a look at Virgil, “in the spirit of Christmas?”

Patton put his hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “If you’re really that against it, we won’t do it. But I think it’ll be a really good thing. For all of us.” He intentionally left out the “especially for you” part.

After a long moment of silence, Virgil gave in. “Fine.”

•••

It was only two minutes past nine when the doorbell rang.

“Oh, that’s him!” Roman announced excitedly. “And barely a moment late!”

The four friends left their places on the couch to gather in the foyer. Logan reached out and opened the door. There on the doorstep stood a snowy Deceit.

“Welcome, welcome, come on in!” Patton said brightly. “Long-time-no-see, am I right?”

Deceit stepped into the house, taking in the warmth. “Hello, Patton, hello everyone, thank you for inviting me. I must admit it has been a while.”

He was surprised to feel some of the bitterness already melting away when seeing everyone together again. Deceit would never admit it, but he had missed these guys.

“Welcome, Deceit,” Logan closed the door behind him and offered a hand. “Good to see you again.”

Though his voice and expression were kept under control as per usual, Deceit could feel the warmth radiating from him. With a gloved hand he took the offer. “You as well, Logan, thank you.”

“Jack the Fibber!” Roman bounded forward and draped an arm over Deceit’s shoulder, not noticing him flinch at the touch. “My slippery scaly friend, how are you? It’s been ages!”

“Indeed it has, dear Roman.” Though he was slightly uncomfortable with the sudden contact, he couldn’t help but smile. “Indeed it has.”

That left only one person, the one who was standing off to the side with his arms crossed, avoiding eye contact. Deceit gently took Roman’s arm off his shoulder and cautiously walked forward.

“Virgil,” he said, trying his best to hold his ground. “Good to see you again.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and blew his bangs from his face, not moving from his position. “You too, or something.”

At least he couldn’t say he didn’t try.

“Well, what do we start with first?” Roman clapped his hands together excitedly as if nothing had happened. “The hot chocolate? The cookie decorating? Christmas movies? A Christmas sing-along?”

“Calm down there, kiddo,” Patton laughed, waving his hands down at Roman. “Why don’t we have Deceit decide? He’s the guest.”

The four friends look expectantly at Deceit.

“Oh. I, uh… I’ve never really done Christmas,” he said nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not really my thing.” This really was a bad idea. What was he thinking? He’d never even had a real Christmas before. Still, some small part of him wanted to try.

Roman gasped, making everyone jump. “You’ve never done Christmas?” He looked downright offended. “Christmas is the grandest, happiest, most wonderful time of the year! I’m sorry, but this just won’t do. We shall see to it that you have the best, most epic Christmas of all time!”

“Yes, we shall!” Patton agreed happily.

“Mark my words, Deceit, by the end of the day tomorrow you will love Christmas,” he swore, pointing his finger.

Patton’s smile faltered, “Now, Roman, there’s no need to get competitive—"

“Starting with the basics!” Roman proceeded. “You can take the spare bedroom down the hall and to the right.”

“Oh! There’s no need for that,” Deceit replied hastily, glancing at the door, “I was just going to come back in the morning.”

“Nonsense, you must have the full experience!”

Virgil looked like he wanted to protest, but remained silent.

“But I didn’t come prepared,” he reasoned, “I don’t have my clothes, I didn’t bring gifts—”

“Not to worry, we have plenty of extra clothes you can borrow!”

“Roman, that’s… thank you.” Deceit could feel his cheeks begin to heat up from all the attention.

“Roman’s right, we have plenty of resources,” Logan chimed in. “Go ahead and make yourself right at home, Deceit. It’s getting late, and we all should be going to bed soon,”—he gave a look to Roman, Patton, and Virgil— “We can do all those activities in the morning. Feel free to shower, grab a snack, whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

“But—”

“Goodnight, Deceit! See you in the morning!” Patton waved as he, Roman and Virgil headed to their respective rooms.

“Sweet dreams!” Roman called back.

Virgil just shot Deceit the best glare he could muster and followed suit.

“You know you can take your hat off, right?” he heard from behind. Deceit turned to see Logan, who hadn’t followed the others. “It won’t be snowing in here.” He was smiling slightly. Apparently he’d gained a sense of humor since they last met.

“Oh.” Deceit pulled his hat down from his head. He liked to wear it more out of comfort than for warmth or even style. It gave him a sense of security, something to hide behind. Taking it off made him feel vulnerable. Reluctantly he handed it to Logan, who brought it to the coat rack. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. And Deceit?” Logan said before he could walk away. For a moment he was worried Logan was going to offer to take his cape too, but he just smiled again. “If you need anything, anything at all, just ask.”

Deceit wasn’t sure how to respond to such a generous offer, so he just nodded and headed for his room, too tired to put up a fight.

When Deceit was done showering off, he tentatively peeked into his bedroom to make sure no one was around. There he found a stack of clothes folded neatly across the bed and a steaming cup of hot chocolate left on his nightstand. He slipped on a pair of sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, grateful for the clean clothes.

Deceit wondered who’d left the hot chocolate. The most likely candidate was Patton, but he was surprised by the gesture regardless of who it had been. He took ginger sips of the chocolate as peered out the window, watching the snow continue to come down.

Why were they being so nice? For the first time in months, Deceit felt… okay. Maybe a little awkward, but if it weren’t for Patton, he very well may have still been out in that snow. He wondered if this was the way everyone felt on Christmas; warm and safe. Happy, even. A small part of him still wondered if this was all some cruel trick, some way for Virgil to get back at him, but he decided he’d let that go for now. He could deal with it in the morning.

The sweet, warm chocolate began making his limbs grow heavy, and he knew he should probably get some sleep. Tomorrow was bound to be exhausting. For now, he was just going to soak in the warmth and comfort and close his eyes.

[eddieeatsass]

15 + 28 for reddie from the prompt list

Turned Evil/Dark Au + Wearing the Other’s Clothes from this prompt list

(I took this in a slightly different direction than was probably expected. I tried to take an interesting spin on things, and I hope it worked out. This was super fun to write, thanks for the great prompt combo!)

Posted on AO3

To us, a mirror was just a mirror; a reflective surface used to primp ourselves in the morning and make sure we don’t have food stuck in our teeth after supper. But what if it were more than that? What if it were a gateway into an alternate dimension, where everything was the same, yet completely different.

Most of us would never get an answer to that question, it would remain a conspiracy theory for ages to come. But a select few might occasionally catch a glance into that other reality, moments they’d write off as ‘too much coffee’ or ‘not enough sleep’.

In our world, we can confidently say that we don’t yet have the technology to travel dimensions, let alone prove the existence of multiple dimensions in the first place. However, we can’t say the same with certainty for our potential doppelgangers on the other side.

“Who said you could go first, fuck nut!?” Richie grabbed at Eddie’s hair, pulling back with a hard yank and pushing in front of him.

“Seniority privileges. Plus it keeps me from having to look at your ugly mug.” Eddie stuck out his foot, successfully tripping Richie and watching him topple through the mirror. Eddie followed through the liquid glass, stepping around Richie’s body and taking a look around the room.

It looked about the same as their own, only disgustingly cleaner. One of them definitely had a stick up their ass in this universe.

“I’m only two months younger than you, you idiot.” Richie ground out, reaching out and grabbing Eddie’s ankle, laughing as he watched him hit the ground just as Richie had.

Eddie rolled over, looking back at Richie with a glare and a loud shushing noise.

“Unless you wanna wake them up, I’d suggest you keep your trashmouth closed for once.” Eddie gestured up to the bed where this universe’s versions of themselves were sound asleep.

Richie rolled his eyes, pushing himself up and beginning to look around the room.

A few hours ago, they’d been bored enough to actually consider dimension hopping for the first time ever. It had never really appealed to them before, the process seemed so long and dull, but they’d had nothing better to do. So now here they found themselves, still bored out of their skulls, but now having to be quiet about it.

“Oooo score.” Richie swiped some change off the bedside table, pocketing it for later and continuing to rummage through drawers as quietly as he could.

Eddie was looking through the closet, trying to hold back a gag at the sight of brightly colored gaudy button ups and prissy polo shirts. With a wicked grin, he threw on an over-sized Hawaiian shirt over his black t-shirt, and tiptoed over to Richie.

“Hiya Eds.” Eddie mocked in a low tone, draping himself over Richie’s back and creeping his hands up his chest teasingly. When Richie turned around he slapped a hand over his mouth to hold in his eruption of laughter, coated heavily with disdain.

“That’s horrendous.” Richie said, once he managed to calm himself down enough to whisper again.

“I have half a mind to burn their entire closet, and subsequently, them along with it.” Eddie sneered, pulling the fabric away from his body with his thumb and forefinger.

“From the sight of how big that is on your bite-sized frame-”

“Fuck you.”

“I’d guess that’s my shirt?”

“I guess in this universe you’ve accepted those unfortunate looks of yours and have given up trying all together.”

Richie flattened his hand against Eddie’s face and pushed him out of the way, walking towards the closet as Eddie stumbled to keep from falling over.

“Your clothes aren’t any better.” Richie commented, crinkling his nose as he came across a particularly preppy dress shirt. It was pastel pink with gold adornments on the tips of the collar, and obviously child-sized.

Richie pulled his sweater over his head, letting it drop to the floor before trying to shimmy his way into the dress shirt. It ripped almost immediately, a large tear across the back, and Richie heard Eddie snickering from where he watched.

“Shut up or I’ll stuff my cock down your throat and make you.” Richie shot back, giving up on the shirt and letting it join his sweater on the floor.

“You say that like your cock isn’t the size of a cocktail wiener.”

“People have died from choking on cocktail wieners.” Richie responded, picking through the closet once again.

“You can’t kill me here, there’d be too much evidence.”

“Not if I take goody-two-shoes Eddie back with me. Then it just looks like Richie and Eddie here got into a little marital tussle and one snapped. Remember, you do look identical.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Good luck getting him to do the things I do in bed.” He mumbled.

“You know, it might be nice having someone submissive for once. Someone who isn’t keen on arguing with me the whole time, who will let me do anything I want to him.” Richie had stalked towards Eddie, closing the distance between them and bringing them nose to nose. They stood at the foot of the bed where their counterparts lay blissfully unaware in slumber.

“Oh, you want a submissive huh?” Eddie began fiddling with the button on his jeans, keeping his eyes locked on Richie’s in challenge. ”You want me to let you win? Because that’s the only way you could actually dominate me. But if that’s what you want, I’ll take pity on you.” Eddie pulled his pants down around his thighs, bending over the bed frame and presenting his ass to Richie.

Richie growled as he grabbed Eddie’s cheeks, pulling him backwards against his lap and grinding his clothed cock into Eddie’s skin.

“You pathetic slut, I’m going to make you eat your fucking words.”

Eddie made a fake yawning gesture, looking back over his shoulder with an unimpressed expression.

“I’ll believe you when I feel it.” Eddie challenged.

Richie was pulling down his own pants within seconds, grabbing at his cock and teasing Eddie’s hole with it.

“I should make you take it raw for that bullshit you were spouting, but your screaming might wake the babies, and then no one would get to have fun.” Richie let a line of spit trickle from his mouth down to Eddie’s hole, wetting the area significantly less than lube would, but more than nothing. Then, without any warning, he shoved himself in to the hilt.

Eddie straightened up suddenly, the pain shooting through his spine causing him to go rigid. He bit into his lip to keep his scream held in, tasting copper on his tongue from the force. He felt like he was being split open, Richie’s cock a saw blade that wouldn’t relent enough to give him a moment to adjust. Tears sprung to his eyes from the pain, but it also caused arousal to stir low in his stomach.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Eddie spat. He earned a hand around his throat in response, cackling as the sound got cut off.

“Huh? What was that?” Richie whispered wickedly into Eddie’s ear. “I couldn’t hear you over the sound of your ass devouring my cock.”

Eddie tried to bite back a response, but the sound wouldn’t pass by the hold Richie had on his neck. Choked out moans got knocked out of him every time Richie thrust into him, hitting that delicious spot that made his hazy eyes see stars.

Richie brought his free hand up to Eddie’s mouth, forcing his fingers between his lips and hooking two into his cheek like a fish hook. It forced Eddie’s mouth open, drool collecting around Richie’s fingers and dripping down Eddie’s chin.

“Bite my fingers and I stop.” Richie warned, knowing Eddie well enough to speak before he tried anything.

Eddie glared at Richie, opting instead to reach back with his arms and claw his nails down Richie’s exposed back. Richie hissed at the sensation, knowing full well that Eddie wasn’t holding back. He’d probably drawn blood… Richie made a note to punish him for that later.

Eddie’s moans became more frequent as he climbed towards his peak, still kept quiet by the hand around his throat and the fingers in his mouth. But Richie was also approaching his release, and he needed both his hands for it.

With reluctance, Richie pulled his hands away, moving one from the front of Eddie’s neck to the back and using the leverage to push Eddie’s upper half down against the bed. It was risky, having Eddie so close to the sleeping pair, but the risk is what pushed Richie over the edge.

He quickly pulled out of Eddie and grasped his cock at the base, pumping himself through his orgasm as he shot thick ropes of cum across the back of the shirt Eddie wore. His seed quickly disappeared among the busy pattern.

Below him, Eddie was cursing him out quietly. Richie didn’t pay him much mind, not caring if he’d cum or not. He’d been a brat and brats don’t get to finish.

“Get yourself off if you’re so worried about it.” Richie said cattily, tucking himself back into his pants.

Just as Eddie was about to respond, he felt a shuffling underneath him. He shot up from where he’d been bent over the bed, pulling up his pants in the process as he stumbled back into Richie.

Before them appeared a drowsy Richie, sat upright in bed with his eyes nearly shut. He seemed to be looking straight at them, but also straight through them.

“Eds? Why are you wearing my shirt?” He mumbled confusedly.

Eddie stared in horror, glancing between his Richie and the Richie that was a moment away from finding out about inter-dimensional travelling.

“Uh… go back to sleep, this is just a dream.” Eddie tried, cringing at his own cliche line.

Richie blinked at them for a moment.

“If this is a dream, can I have sex with other me?”

“Sure, you idiot, now lay down.” Other Richie replied.

“I like it when I talk dirty to myself.” His speech was sleep slurred as he laid back down, resting his head on his pillow and stilling after a few seconds, his breath evening back out.

Eddie let out a shaky breath, turning to his Richie and raising an eyebrow.

“You’re even stupider in this universe than you are in our own.” He accused.

“Yeah, well, if you don’t get your ass back into our universe in the next five seconds, I’m leaving you here to deal with dumb me, so let’s go.” Richie grumbled, picking up his discarded sweater on his way towards the mirror.

Eddie joined him, prepared to jump back through until Richie stopped him with a hand to his chest.

“Leave the shirt.”

“Wha- but it’s a souvenir!” Eddie objected.

“This isn’t fucking Disney World. And besides, wouldn’t you rather leave a mysterious cum stained shirt here; stir up some trouble for the happy couple?”

Richie’s eyes shone dark, malevolence expanding his pupils. Eddie smirked back at him, his previously neglected cock stirring once again at Richie’s ill nature.

“I like how you think.” Eddie peeled the shirt off, making sure it landed in a bundle where the quickly drying stain would soon be visible, front and center.

And with that, Richie took Eddie’s hand, walking them back through the mirror and back to their own lives.

[elsalapizza]

Fic: By the Sweat(er) of My Brow

Relationship: Castiel/Dean Winchester Word count: 1,657 Square filled: Matching sweaters (#4) for @spnfluffbingo​ Written for day #14 of @notfunnydean ’s advent calendar “the ugliest Christmas sweater” Summary: Mary's occupation of choice, after breaking her leg on a hunt, is knitting. Dean is way too invested in the process.  Read it on Ao3

--

It all began when Mary broke her leg on a hunt.

Well, maybe “all” was maybe too broad and all-encompassing a word for the situation at hand, considering the continuous soap opera that was their life. But still, Mary did break her leg. And just in time for a newly human Cas not being able to heal her, too.

She broke her leg, so Bobby brought her back to the bunker as fast as he could, and now she was once again living in the bunker with them. It was nice really to have Mom home. And now that the whole Michael and Empty businesses being solved, now that there was no threat over their head anymore, it really felt like home.

When Dean told Cas as much, Cas objected that being with Dean had always felt home, but now was the first time when the bunker had felt anything close to homely. Dean was in too good a mood to argue semantics, so he just shrugged and went back to his cooking.

So Mary was home, and with her broken leg she couldn’t really do anything. Meaning: she was bored. Very bored. So bored in fact, that Dean could almost smell the frustration and boredom coming from her room.

But instead of binge-watching Stranger Things or the Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, like he and Cas had started to do now that things were calmer on the supernatural front, Mary one day asked Dean to go buy for her some needles and yarn.

Except not just some, because she had a very long and very precise list of exactly what she wanted. Dean’s reaction was a laugh of disbelief so loud and obnoxious, that Mary refused to talk to him for two whole days afterwards. It was Sam who ended up going to buy her knitting equipment, and Cas who passed on to Dean all of her culinary demands.

Once she got her gear sorted out, Mary spent whole days in her room, locked up with nothing but her yarn and needles and a few records playing.

And Dean really wondered what exactly she was going to do with them, because he saw the various balls of wool Sam had brought back, and they were all shades of the gaudiest colors in the world. What he really hoped, was that she was actually knitting several small unicolor things. Because mixing any of these colors would probably launch a new apocalypse. Or at least it would just create something very, very ugly.

When after two weeks of this, Mary proudly declared during dinner that she was almost finished with her first piece, Dean’s worst fears seemed to be coming true. Christmas was approaching fast, and his mother knitting so much but producing only one item meant only one thing: Christmas sweater. And by the looks of it, it was not going to be the kind you could post on instagram.

Not that Dean knew anything about Instagram, but Cas’s account full of random pics of cute things they found on the road was starting to get popular, and his followers did not deserve this.

Dean wished that Mary had taken so much time knitting just one piece because it was going to be a present for Sam and his giant body. If he was lucky, when he’d laughed at her new hobby, Dean had committed an offense serious enough that she’d decided he didn’t deserve his own sweater.

Dean thought he wouldn’t mind not deserving a sweater, but he also was well aware of the cliché of having your 2.5 children wearing matching sweaters for your family Christmas card photo.

And despite the idea of a tough hunter like Mary doing something so motherly as knitting still sounding so ridiculous inside of Dean’s head, there was some part of himself that felt actually glad that he had this slice of an ordinary life. Having your mother knit you an ugly sweater for Christmas felt just so normal, but still not normal enough that for Dean to warm up to what promised to be the ugliest sweaters ever.

 When it was time for Christmas to come and gifts started piling up under the tree they had set up in the bunker library, Dean could clearly see that, amongst the gifts Mary had put down there, there were exactly two that were shaped like sweaters.

So Dean had to resign himself: he and Sam would be wearing awful sweaters for the rest of the winter season. Because of course he would wear his. His mother—his hunter mother who didn’t cook nor bake nor wear perfume—his mother was making him a sweater. Of course he was gonna wear it. He wouldn’t like it, but he would wear it.

Also the fact that Sam would be wearing one too was definitely softening the blow, because Sam’s would no doubt be way uglier than Dean’s (because everything always looked a bit better on Dean than on anyone else). Dean was sure to prepare to make funny photos of Sam in his sweater. If they were good enough, he’d even let Cas put them on his Instagram.

Except when Christmas morning finally came, and it was time to open the gifts, Mary actually did not give Sam a sweater. Instead, she’s gifted him with a pack of very fancy microbrew beers that Dean could still see himself making fun of Sam for. Not as much as if it had been a sweater, but truth be told, whatever Sam would have gotten, Dean would have found a way to make fun of him. That was just the awesome kind of brother Dean was. (Even if Sam’s present this year looked actually pretty good.)

So when Sam didn’t get a sweater, for one moment, Dean thought that he would be spared too. And maybe there weren’t actually any sweater under the tree, and Mary hadn’t knitted any sweater at all. Maybe she’d just been knitting a huge blanket for herself, and everyone would be completely free of this horrid association of colors she’d chosen to do.

The relief was short-lived though. As soon as Dean opened his present from Mary, he became the lucky owner of the ugliest sweater in the whole world. He had no idea what the pattern was supposed to represent of whether it was supposed to represent anything at all, but it sure was just as garish as Dean had guessed it would be.

He still smiled though because he was a polite son and he’d already mocked his mom’s knitting enough for a lifetime. So he smiled and he put the sweater on, and distantly wondered who the second sweater-looking gift had been for. He didn’t have to wonder long, because Cas—actual (former) Angel of the Trenchcoat—Cas, who almost never wore anything other than Jimmy’s old suit, also got a sweater from Mary.

Cas had gotten the exact same sweater as Dean. Well, not the exact same sweater, because for it to be the exact same it should have been knitted by someone a bit more skilled than Mary, but it was a sweater that looked a lot like the one Dean was wearing.

And Cas, who was even more polite than Dean was, put his sweater on too.

So here Cas and Dean were, with similar sweaters—similarly ugly sweaters, while Sam had none. It felt like such injustice that Dean couldn’t help but ask Mary why she hadn’t knitted one for Sam too. Wasn’t it the kind of situation where you were supposed to treat all your kids the same?

But when he asked her, Mary looked at him with such bewilderment that Dean felt like he’d committed the most serious social faux-pas. He glanced in Cas’s direction, wondering if in all his millennia of existence he’d ever been witness to something comparable.

“But, Sweetie…” Mary hesitated. “Matching sweaters are generally a couple’s thing, aren’t they?” she looked for a moment very alarmed that Sam, Dean and Cas had some kind of threesome thing going on, and Dean didn’t know where this fear could be coming from. There wasn’t even any kind of twosome going on in the first place.

“I just…really thought you and Cas would look very cute in matching sweaters,” she added, proving that she obviously disagreed with Dean’s conclusions on the matter.

Dean thought back on all the people in his life who had ever hinted at him and Cas being a couple. He recalled the many times that same idea had occurred to himself during the ten years he’d known Cas. Dean also pictured the way they were both so in synch living their everyday life in the bunker with the rest of their family.

He then looked over at Cas and at his goofy smile as he was admiring his great new sweater.

After that, the only thought left inside Dean’s mind was that yes, they were a couple with matching sweaters. They’d been a couple without matching sweaters for a while now and Dean just hadn’t realized it.

Although it would be a shame to be a couple, yet to never kiss the person you were in a couple with, wouldn’t it? It seemed like an obvious conclusion, so Dean did just that.

He took the few steps that separated him from Cas, grabbed as much as he could of that awful sweater, and kissed him full on the mouth. Cas responded immediately to the kiss, as if it’d been a question he’d never been asked but had his answer ready all along.

Afterwards, he wasn’t sure that on Christmas morning, in front of the Christmas tree, with all your family—and also a lot of hunters you didn’t really know that well—had been the best conditions for his first kiss with Cas.

But given how sweet Cas’s kisses were, he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

[noona-clock]

Something’s Brewing ❄️☕️ - Part 5

Genre: Coffee Shop!AU

Pairing: Jungshin x You

By Admin B

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

By the time the Snow Jam Festival came around, you and Jungshin had been on three more dates. 

You had gone ice skating, watched Back to the Future, and even gone back to the museum to finish up the tour. 

The ice skating date broke the ice (heh heh) when it came to holding hands, while the Back to the Future date introduced cuddling into your relationship, and your second museum date produced your first selfie together. 

You were a little scared he would post it on Instagram since he had quite a few thousand followers (and most of them were likely fangirls), but he didn’t. 

He did set it at his wallpaper, though, which was better.

Since Christmas was just around the corner, you decided to attend the festival wearing somewhat, well, festive attire: an off-white fair isle sweater with a reindeer pattern and a red and green plaid button-up underneath along with some dark wash jeans and black leather riding boots. 

It wasn’t normal rock concert garb, but this was a winter-themed festival! Plus, you owned a plethora of winter and Christmas sweaters - this was the time to wear them!

You had given two VIP passes to your sister the night before since she and Seungyoon were going to meet you there. You were currently in what was called the Green Room, the place where the performers hung out before and after their set. CNBlue’s set didn’t start for another half hour, so you and Jungshin were sitting on one of the couches talking and gazing at each other.

“Aren’t you nervous?” you asked, your brow furrowed.

“Well, yeah,” Jungshin admitted, twirling a piece of your hair around one of his fingers. “I’m always nervous before I perform. But you being here helps.”

You bit back a smile as you felt your heart fluttering. You’d felt that a lot these days, actually.

“You’re going to be amazing,” you assured him, resisting the urge to lean in and kiss him. You actually couldn’t wait to watch their set tonight, as this would be the first time seeing him play since you’d started dating. Plus, you knew all their songs now so you could actually sing along this time.

“Thanks,” he replied softly, one corner of his lip pulling up into a half-smile. “I’m really glad you could come.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.” And you didn’t plan on missing any other concerts from here on out unless you absolutely had to.

“Aww, look how cute,” Seungyoon said, finally breaking yours and Jungshin’s eye contact as he and your sister stepped into the green room.

“Hey, man,” Jungshin chuckled, standing up to go give Seungyoon a bro handshake and hug. You followed him, sharing a secret look with your sister before introducing them.

Jungshin politely shook her hand, and, to your delight, your sister said almost the same words to him as you had said to Seungyoon just a few weeks ago.

“Of course, I understand,” Jungshin murmured with a solemn nod.

The four of you spent the next ten minutes or so talking and getting to know each other until Yonghwa, Jungshin’s bandmate, came to tell him they had to get ready.

“Alright,” Jungshin sighed, looking at his three supporters. “I’ll see you guys in here after?”

You all voiced their assent, and Seungyoon and your sister went out to go join the crowd. You lingered behind, one hand holding onto Jungshin’s sleeve.

“Good luck,” you said, trying not to look or sound too nervous.

Jungshin moved to wrap his arms around you, enveloping you in a tight hug. “Thanks,” he murmured, his voice muffled by your hair.

You smiled into his shoulder, hugging him back tightly. When he started to pull away, you held on, standing on your toes to give him a good luck kiss. Jungshin smiled against your lips, though it quickly turned to one of embarrassment when he heard someone clearing his throat, most likely to remind him it was time to go.

“See you later,” you muttered, blushing fiercely and avoiding eye contact with his three bandmates as you left to join Seungyoon and your sister.

Since it was a festival, CNBlue only played about seven songs. They played all of your favorites, though, so you weren’t going to complain that much. You, Seungyoon, and your sister all had a really good time dancing and singing along to the songs, and the crowd was really enthusiastic, too.

Jungshin couldn’t help but look at you whenever he got a chance, and it seemed like his smile widened every time he did. And it truly made his heart soar to see you singing along to every song. He knew you weren’t technically in an official relationship yet, but you were already the most supportive girlfriend. He really wasn’t sure he could get much happier.

After they finished their last song and got their instruments packed away, Jungshin went back into the Green Room and was immediately greeted by you. (And Seungyoon and your sister, but he noticed you first. Obviously.) You were beaming, and you looked like you wanted to run up and hug him but were just a little too nervous to in front of everyone else, so he hugged you first.

“You were amazing,” you praised, squeezing him to emphasize just how happy and proud you were.

“Yeah, man, you guys did a really great job,” Seungyoon echoed. As Jungshin pulled away, you made sure to go give hugs to Yonghwa, Jonghyun, and Minhyuk, too. You didn’t know them that well yet, but you didn’t want to be that kind of girlfriend (even though you weren’t sure if you were officially Jungshin’s girlfriend). 

You just didn’t want to be a Yoko, okay?

After grabbing some snacks (and a band selfie to commemorate another successful concert), everyone went back out to enjoy the rest of the festival. There were only a couple more acts left, and since they were going last, they were some of the best and most popular. Overall, it had been an extremely enjoyable night of music. 

With Christmas less than a week away, how could everyone not be in a good mood?!

At the end of the night, you went back with Jungshin to get his bass while Seungyoon and your sister headed home.

“There might be fans waiting out there,” he said as you left the Green Room one last time. “I’m not sure since it’s a festival. There will probably be a lot of people waiting, I just don’t know how many are CNBlue fans.”

“I’m sure there will be a ton!” you replied, smiling and trying to hide your nerves. You assumed you were walking out with him since you drove here together, and you weren’t sure how that would go.

“If there are, we don’t have to stay,” he assured you.

“No, that’s fine! I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay, well... we’ll see.”

The other guys had just left, so when Jungshin opened the door, he saw them signing autographs, taking pictures, and talking with a few people. Of course, he wanted to interact with his fans since he was so grateful they had any at all, but he also wanted to make sure you were comfortable and didn’t get put into any awkward situations. 

He found your hand, grabbing it and giving it a reassuring squeeze before turning to a fan who was waiting patiently. 

He smiled, taking her CD and signing his name before leaning in to take a selfie with her. He asked her what her name was and how long she’d been a fan, thanking her for coming to support them.

You stood there, trying not to feel too awkward, but you couldn’t help but smile at how nice he was being. Obviously, he wasn’t a famous musician, but still. He could definitely be considered locally famous, right? And he had fans! You always found it telling how a celebrity treated his/her fans, and Jungshin was taking the time to talk to everyone who wanted to talk to him. He didn’t act annoyed; quite the opposite, in fact. It made your heart beam with pride, and you were happy to stand there and watch, even though it was freezing outside.

You tried to keep out of the way, though, so people wouldn’t think you were a stalker or something.

About 20 minutes later, Jungshin emerged from the crowd of people, smiling when he spotted you waiting.

“You ready to go?”

“I’m ready for some heat,” you chuckled, your mouth partially covered by your scarf.

Jungshin leaned in to kiss your cheek, taking your hand as you walked back to the parking lot. “Thank you for waiting,” he said once the crowd was behind you.

“Oh, you’re welcome,” you assured him. “I actually really enjoyed watching you interact with people. You were so nice!”

“I haven’t met a rude fan, yet, which is good,” he told you. “Everyone is always really nice, so it’s easy to be nice back to them.”

Once Jungshin put his bass in the back seat, he drove you back to your apartment. You invited him to stay even though you knew he needed to get back home to Simba and his brother.

“I’ll take a rain check,” he said, frowning a little as he leaned against your doorframe. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Doing something with you, I presume,” you smirked.

“I’ll call you tomorrow morning.” He leaned in, wrapping his arms around you to try and keep you warm. You curled your arms up against his chest, nuzzling your face into his neck and letting out a very contented sigh.

“Thank you again for coming tonight,” he said softly.

“You’re welcome. I really had a lot of fun.”

“It really means a lot to me, though.”

“I know, that’s why I came. Well, also because I like your music. But I know you would do the same for me. I want to support you, that’s what...girlfriends...do.” You had kind of said it before you really thought about it, but did you regret it? Not really. 

Unless he said he didn’t want you to be his girlfriend.

“Oh, you think you’re my girlfriend?” he asked, trying to hide his smile. 

“...Maybe?”

Jungshin pulled away then, holding onto your shoulders and looking at you with a very serious expression.

“Well, you should think you’re my girlfriend. Because I think you’re my girlfriend.”

“Really?” you asked, unable to stop your lips from pulling into a wide smile.

“Of course! We’ve been on, what, five dates now? I knew from date one I liked you and from date two I wanted to be with you.”

“You did not.”

“I did! I just didn’t want to scare you away.”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah, that’s legit.”

“You’re not scared now, right?”

“Well, I mean, being in a new relationship is always a little bit scary, right?”

“But besides that, you’re not scared?”

You looked up at him for a second before standing on your toes to press your forehead to his. “No, I’m not.”

Jungshin tilted his head to press his lips to yours briefly. “Good. Neither am I.”

“Now go home and give Simba a kiss for me, okay?” you requested, stepping away from him so he could leave.

“I will,” he chuckled.

“And let me know when you get home.”

“You got it.” He kissed you one last time before you went into your apartment. Once he heard the door lock, he turned and went back to his car. 

He smiled the whole way home.

You were all cozied up in bed about twenty minutes later when you got a text from Jungshin. A smile immediately came to your face, before you even read the message!

That’s how you know you’ve got it bad.

You went onto your social media to see what you had missed during the festival, and as you were scrolling through your Twitter feed, you got a notification.

leejungshin91 just shared a post

You clicked on it immediately, smiling when you saw the picture Jungshin had taken earlier.

You liked it, resisting the urge to comment with some emoji hearts and texting Jungshin instead.

You went back to checking your social media, figuring you would keep on looking through Instagram. You refreshed your feed then began scrolling. 

After a couple of posts from history and museum accounts, you saw Jungshin’s post again. There were quite a few more likes now and even some comments. You saw Jungshin had actually replied to a comment saying: 

leejungshin91 @kikifreed it’s because I am 😊. 

Well, you couldn’t just not look, so you quickly opened up the comment feed.

heynan73 great job tonight! 👍👍👍 kim_park1880 you guys did such a good job!! The whole festival was amazing 😆 cloe_vales 💙💙💙💙

“She stole my comment,” you muttered.

Finally, you found the comment Jungshin had replied to.

kikifreed I noticed you couldn’t stop smiling during the set 😃 you seemed so happy tonight!

Your heart, obviously, burst. A fan had noticed he seemed happy, and he replied: “it’s because I am.” You didn’t want to assume you were what’s making him happy, but… you did anyway. You were also glad all of the comments were nice.

You decided to look up the CNBlue hashtag to see if any fans had posted pictures from tonight. There were a lot of Yonghwa and Jonghyun - apparently, they were the most popular members, although you couldn’t see why they were any more popular than Jungshin but whatever.

You found a picture of Jungshin and clicked on it. It had been posted almost an hour ago, so basically right after the festival ended. You liked it right away, smiling as you read the caption.

You opened up the comments, surprised to see there were quite a few. This must be a popular account.

mik_s3 he really was smiling so much during the set. He looked so good!! bntor he was really rocking on that bass m.8292 i agree so handsome!!!! lopggy yah he was definitely smiling the whole time! glad he’s happy but anyone know why? 🤔 he’s usually more serious when he’s playing. zanita45 @lopggy I saw a girl leavin with him so he probs has a gf lopggy @zanita45 awwww!! I hope so that’s so cute 💘 cnbluefan @zanita45 I saw a girl come out with them (not sure if it was just jungshin or all of them) but I didn’t notice when he left. zanita45 @cnbluefan yep she left with him i think they were holding hands shelly_elf I saw her, too! She walked out kinda with the whole band and was waiting while they met with fans outside the venue. Once Jungshin was done he walked over to her and they left together. Pretty sure they were holding hands and he might have kissed her cheek. I didn’t notice her during the concert, though. dollyzomb @shelly_elf I saw the same thing! Also saw her during the concert - she came out right before their set, left when it was done, then came back out with the guys to finish watching the festival. Standing next to Jungshin, and they did hold hands on the way out so I’m thinking he def 100% has a girlfriend. cnbluefan @dollyzomb Thanks for the info! Whoever she is, she’s lucky! 😍 zanita45 @dollyzomb @cnbluefan look through who he’s following. If he followed a girl recently it’s probs her cnbluefan @zanita45 let’s just wait to see if he posts anything! Don’t want to invade anyone’s privacy 😊

You honestly couldn’t believe they were talking about you! Of course, they didn’t know who you were, but you knew who you were! 

You were just glad there were no comments expressing disappointment or anger. On this picture. 

You decided to call it a night while you were ahead; you could very easily fall down a rabbit hole and get sucked into reading comments.

You didn’t have to work the next day, so you had planned to sleep in… 

Cue you waking up at 7:30 and being unable to fall back asleep. 

So you made yourself some breakfast and turned on the morning news, curling up on the couch as you ate. Once you finished eating, you decided to see what else was on TV. 

You scrolled through the guide, your brow furrowed as you searched for something other than reality shows. 

A gasp escaped from your mouth when you saw your favorite American Revolution documentary had just started on the History Channel. You quickly went to wash your face and brush your teeth because you planned on being on the couch for the next few hours.

Around 10:30, your phone rang. You knew immediately who it was because he was the only person who ever called you; everyone else you knew either honored your wish to only text or disliked talking on the phone as much as you did.

“Hey,” you said after accepting the call.

“Good morning, oh lovely girlfriend of mine.”

“Well, now I feel bad for just saying ‘hey’,” you chuckled.

“What are you up to?”

“I’m still in my pajamas watching something on the History Channel.”

“Wanna get some lunch later?”

“Sure!”

“I was thinking maybe around noon or so?”

“Yeah, that sounds --” You were interrupted by a knock on your door. “Ooh, hold on, someone’s at my door.”

You threw your blanket off, standing up and heading toward your front door. It was probably a package or something. You held your phone to your shoulder as you unlocked and opened the door… only to be greeted by Jungshin holding a bouquet of violets.

“Oh, my gosh,” you said, completely surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I really do want to take you out to lunch, but I just wanted to bring you these.” He held out the bouquet, and you took them gingerly.

“They’re gorgeous,” you said, opening your door for him to come in. And then you remembered what you looked like. “Oh, god, but I’m so not right now.”

“What are you talking about?” Jungshin asked, frowning. He put an arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on the top of your head. “You look beautiful.”

“I’m literally in my pajamas,” you pointed out. “Haven’t even done my hair or put on any makeup.”

“You don’t even need to,” he replied, taking off his coat and hanging it on the coat rack right by your door.

“Let me go put these in a vase,” you murmured after you’d sniffed them. You shuffled to the kitchen, getting a vase out from under the sink and filling it with water.

“What are you watching?” Jungshin asked, leaning against the counter and facing the television.

“Oh, it’s a documentary about the American Revolution,” you told him, setting the half-filled vase carefully down on the counter and putting the flowers in. “These are so pretty. Thank you so much.”

You walked around to him, sliding your arms around his middle and hugging him.

“You’re welcome,” he said softly, rubbing your back. “I wouldn’t be a proper boyfriend if I didn’t bring you flowers.”

“I can’t argue with you there,” you chuckled. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Nah, I’m good. Let’s just finish watching your show.” He started over toward the couch, taking your hand so you would follow.

“Oh, you don’t have to watch it, you can change the channel.”

“I’m the one who invited myself over,” Jungshin pointed out as he plopped down on your couch. “Besides, I don’t mind learning more about the American Revolution. It was a very important time in our history as one very smart, stunning tour guide once told me.”

You blushed, curling up next to him and grabbing your blanket. “There’s only about half an hour left. I’ll start getting ready when it’s over, then we can go to lunch.”

“Sounds good,” he smiled, putting his arm across the back of the couch and kissing your temple.

You sat watching in comfortable silence for a while until the documentary mentioned Alexander Hamilton. 

You couldn’t help but sing.

“🎶Alexander Hamilton. My name is Alexander Hamilton. 🎶”

Jungshin looked over at you, a bit confused.

“🎶And there’s a million things I haven’t done, but just you wait...just you wait... 🎶”

“What is that?”

You gasped, sitting up and turning to face him. “You don’t know Hamilton?”

“Ohhhh, that musical everyone was obsessed with?”

“Okay, well, I’m still obsessed with it. Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you don’t know it.”

“I’m...sorry?”

“Can I force you to listen to it?”

“Of course. you can.”

You smiled, leaning back in and resting your head on his shoulder. “You’re pretty great, y’know that?”

“Well, you’re easy to be great to,” he murmured, rubbing your shoulder and looking down at you with an expression of total adoration.

When the documentary was over, you picked up the remote and turned the TV off. “Okay, I’m going to go get ready. You can stay out here if you want, or you can come in if you want to talk or whatever.”

“Like go in your room with you while you get ready?”

“I mean if you don’t want to stay out here by yourself.”

“...I am kind of interested to see what all you do when you get ready.”

“Okay, come on, then,” you chuckled, standing up and heading toward your bedroom. 

Jungshin hadn’t been in there, yet, so he was incredibly curious to see what it looked like.

When you opened the door, he shouldn’t have been surprised. One wall was completely taken up by bookshelves, the opposite wall home to a desk filled with makeup. It was quite a small room, obviously, since you were in an apartment, and even though there was quite a lot in there, it was cozy instead of cluttered.

While you went to your closet to pick out something to wear, Jungshin went to your bookshelf to snoop. There were lots of history books, of course, but also some classic literature and even…

“Romance novels?”

“Oh yeah,” you replied, grabbing a dark green, oversized sweater with a golden Christmas tree embroidered on the front and some black jeans. “They’re not as trashy as you think.”

Jungshin perused the rest of the shelves as you popped into the bathroom to change, closing the door behind you. When you emerged, he held up an empty picture frame.

“What are you planning on putting in here?”

“Oh… A picture of us, actually,” you admitted, blushing a little. “But we only have the one.”

“We’ll take some more today, then.”

“So definitely have to make sure my makeup is on point.”

Jungshin chuckled, sitting down on your bed as she went back into the bathroom to curl your hair. He got out his phone, remembering there was something he’d wanted to do.

“Hey, um…”

“Yeah?” you called out, plugging in your curling wand.

“I wanted to post that one picture of us on Instagram. Is that okay?”

“Well, yeah. It’s your Instagram.”

“I know, but I just wanted to make sure you were fine with it.”

“Since you have so many followers?”

“Yeah. Do you want me to tag you?”

“If you want to! I’m sure if someone really wanted to find me, they could. You follow me, so… Oh! I was stalking on Instagram last night, and I found this one girl who posts pictures of every one of your concerts.”

“Cnbluefan?”

“Yeah! She posted a picture of you from last night, and people were actually talking about me!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, someone brought up how much you were smiling, and another girl said she saw you leaving with a girl and all this stuff.”

“They didn’t say anything bad, right?”

“No, no, nothing bad.”

“Good.”

Jungshin opened up Instagram, uploading the picture he’d taken earlier of your flowers and the one picture so far of you two together. He added his favorite filter, tagged you, and typed out his caption. Just after he clicked ‘Share’ he heard your phone ding.

You picked your phone up after putting down your curling wand.

leejungshin91 just shared a post leejungshin91 just tagged you in a post

You clicked on the notification, smiling like a goof when you saw the picture of the flowers and then swiped to see the picture of the two of you. It really was a good picture; both of you looked happy and not awkward.

And then you read the caption.

leejungshin91 The reason for my smile.

“Oh my god, stop,” you said, popping your head out of the bathroom to look at him. “You are so cheesy.”

“Well! People kept commenting about how much I was smiling! It’s because I kept looking at you in the crowd.”

You walked out of the bathroom, even though your hair was not even half-done, going over to Jungshin and standing in front of him as he sat down on your bed. You put your hands on his shoulders, smirking.

“What?” he asked, putting his hands on your waist and looking up at you.

“I’m only saying this because no one else is around.” You bent your head, pressing your forehead against his. “You’re the reason for my smile, too.”

“You wouldn’t say that if other people were here?”

“No,” you chuckled. “I’m too shy to be that cheesy in public. But I’ll probably post my own fair share of cheesy Instagram captions, I’ll admit.”

“Good. If I get to embarrass you, you get to embarrass me, too.”

“Good deal,” you said, dropping a kiss on his lips before heading back into the bathroom to finish your hair.

Jungshin got his phone back out, checking the comments to make sure everything was okay. He scrolled through, seeing a lot of familiar names and nothing bad so far.

cnbluefan Congratulations! We knew something was up 😉 She’s gorgeous! kim_park1880 Aw! Cute! Congrats 😁💘 heynan73 she’s hot cloe_vales pretty!! 💜💜💜💜 kikifreed I knew it!!! Knew there had to be a reason you were so smiley last night 😀 zanita45 @cnbluefan i told u!! cnbluefan @zanita45 you sure did! 😂 bntor good for you! she’s rly pretty! m.8292 cuteeeee couple 💘

Jungshin replied to @cnbluefan since she was always so supportive, typing “Thanks! Gorgeous is definitely the right word.”

“Okay, I just got about fifteen new followers,” you said from the bathroom, eyeing your phone as you continued curling your hair. “And that cnbluefan person is liking basically all of my pictures.”

“She’s definitely our most vocal fan,” he chuckled. “I’ve met her at just about every show. Her name is… Taylor, I think? She’s really sweet and not creepy.”

“Yeah, she just commented on one of my few selfies saying I’m so pretty, and that you’re lucky.”

“Well, I am. And... if anyone ever bothers you, let me know.”

“I’ll just block them. I can handle it.”

“I know, but it would be because of me, so I want to know.”

“Okay, that’s fair enough,” you replied, getting ready to curl the last piece of hair.

Once you were finished, you unplugged your curling wand and headed out to your vanity to do your makeup. You sat down in your chair, sliding on a headband to get your freshly done hair out of your face.

“This is what I’m the most interested in,” he said, turning to watch. “I don’t have any sisters, obviously, so I’ve never really seen a girl do her makeup.”

“Do you want me to explain what I’m doing?” you chuckled, looking at him in your mirror.

“Sure!”

“Okay, well, I’ve recently been starting with my eye makeup first because I’m more likely to mess that up.” You opened one of the drawers in the stand next to you, rummaging around for an eyeshadow palette.

“Holy shit,” Jungshin said, leaning over to look in the drawer you’d just opened. “What are all those?”

“These are eyeshadow palettes.” You took out the one you’d chosen, opening it to show him.

“And you use all of those?”

“Well, not all at once. Some of them I use more than others. Some of them I have just because they’re iconic in the makeup world. Like collector’s items.”

You didn’t even mention the other drawers of eyeshadow palettes you had...

After deciding which colors to use, you got out your eyeshadow primer and tape. “I use this to get a nice clean line for my eyeliner,” you explained, knowing he would ask.

“Okay, got it.” He really had no idea what you were talking about, but oh well.

He watched you as you put on the eyeshadow, marveling at how it went from looking messy to looking perfect. And then you did the eyeliner, and he understood the tape. When you took the tape off, he let out a little noise of surprise.

“Oh wow. How do you do that?”

“A lot of practice. Just like your bass.”

“Right,” Jungshin chuckled. “Makes sense.”

“So, now I’m doing foundation,” you said, opening another drawer and taking out a bottle. “Aw crap, I forgot to wet my sponge.” 

You always did!

“Huh?”

You held up an orange egg looking thing. “This is called a foundation sponge. It’s what I like to use to put my foundation on because it looks more natural and even. But it works best when it’s damp.” You got up and went into the bathroom, running it under the faucet and squeezing it several times.

“None of this makes any sense to me,” he admitted, though he was sure you wouldn’t mind or judge him.

“That’s okay,” you laughed, pumping out your foundation onto your sponge before pouncing it all over your face.

“So, why do you need to put that on? It’s like the same color as your skin.”

“That’s the point. It just makes my face look more even and flawless.”

You talked him through putting on your concealer (“But why is that lighter than your face?”), baking your under eye, contour, blush, highlight (“Whoa, that’s intense”), brows, lashes (“Yeah, they definitely make a huge difference”), and finally lipstick.

“Do you do this every day?” he asked in a tone of disbelief.

“Well, not every day. And some days I don’t use everything, but most of the time I do my makeup, I do it like this,” you explained before misting your face with setting spray.

“It’s fun for you?”

“Yeah, it is, actually. It’s relaxing, too. It’s a time for me to focus on myself, and I just look so good when I’m done, it makes me feel good.”

“Well, you do an impeccable job.”

“Thanks,” you smiled. “You ready for lunch?”

“Sure am,” he answered, standing up and heading out toward the front door. “All the comments on my picture have been good so far, by the way. Everyone thinks you’re really pretty.”

“Well, you obviously have a lot of sweet fans,” you blushed, grabbing your mustard peacoat and gray scarf from the coat rack before you headed outside.

“I mean, yeah, but they're not being sweet. They're just telling the truth,” he replied, smirking slightly. You had said that once, and he dearly loved to tease you.

“Okay, come on, let’s go to lunch.” You rolled your eyes, trying not to smile.

“Should we take a picture before we leave?”

“Might as well. This is the best my hair and makeup will look all day.”

Jungshin laughed as he came to stand behind you, putting his free arm across the front of your shoulders and pressing the side of his jaw against your temple. As he held his other arm out to find a good angle with his phone, you brought your hands up to hold onto his arm across your shoulders, leaning into him.

Once Jungshin had you both in the frame, tilting the phone just so, he counted down from three. You smiled widely, showing all of your teeth, while Jungshin simply lifted one corner of his mouth in a half-smile. He’d figured out that's how he looked best in selfies.

“Aww, that's cute,” you said when you saw the end result, still holding onto Jungshin’s arm.

“I'll send it to you,” he murmured, clicking on your picture in the AirDrop menu.

You walked out to his car after you received the picture, and once you got in, you connected your phone to his Bluetooth.

“It's Hamilton time,” you said with a slight smirk. When the first song started playing, you had to bite your lip to keep from singing along.

Around the middle of the first song, you opened up Instagram and took a video of Jungshin driving and nodding his head along to the music. Forcing this guy to listen to Hamilton 😝💖 you typed before adding it to your story. You didn’t want to tag him in the video in case any of your new followers had not so nice intentions. You knew it probably wouldn’t be a big deal since Jungshin really couldn’t be classified as a “celebrity,” but still.

You had only gotten to “Schuyler Sisters” before arriving at your lunch destination.

“What do you think so far?” you asked, eyebrows raised as you got out of the car.

“Which sister does he marry?”

“I’m not telling you! But I definitely have a favorite sister.”

“Okay, I’ll pay close attention on the way back so I can figure out who it is,” Jungshin nodded.

Of course, you had “🎶Look around, look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now🎶” stuck in your head for the rest of the day, even after you listened to more in the car on the way home and the rest of the first part back at Jungshin’s house.

“Yeah, it’s pretty good,” he said, nodding as he rubbed Simba’s chest. You were both currently lounging on the couch, your phone resting in a cup on the coffee table to amplify the sound.

“That’s how I felt when I listened to the first part for the first time, too. It wasn’t until I listened to the second part when I really got obsessed. And really only at the very end. It was one of those things that came on suddenly.”

“Well...” Jungshin began, tapping his chin in thought. “I was going to guess Peggy was your favorite sister, but she hasn’t been in it again.”

“Peggy? Why Peggy?” you chuckled.

“Because she was like ‘Let’s go home’ when they were all out in the city. I don’t know, it reminded me of you.”

“Yeah, I can be a party pooper, I know.”

“Not in a bad way,” Jungshin assured you, leaning toward you. “So, is Eliza your favorite, then?”

You nodded, fighting back the urge to tell him why. If you did it would only spoil it. 

But, of course, that’s all you wanted to talk about now. So you grabbed a nearby tennis ball and headed for the back door.

“Come on, Simba, let’s go play!” 

Simba scrambled to get off the couch, wagging his tail as he followed you outside.

Jungshin trailed behind you, smiling like an idiot and getting his phone out. This was too cute. 

He opened Instagram and took a video of you throwing the ball and playing with Simba. He made sure to add the heart eyes emoji on the screen before adding it to his story. 

When he got back to the homepage, he saw you had posts on your story so he clicked on your icon. The first was a picture of your television when you’d been watching your documentary earlier. You were such a nerd; he loved it. 

Then he saw the video of him driving and listening to Hamilton, eliciting a chuckle from the back of his throat. 

The last post was a picture of your lunch - he had added a picture of his lunch, too, so he couldn’t even make fun of you for being that kind of Instagrammer. 

He then went to your profile and turned on your post notifications. Now you guys were truly #CoupleGoals.

Part 6

Tagging @cramelot  @veryhotkpop  @daelicious-jongbulge  @askmalstwin  @elysjin @shinrin-yokeu @lovebuginlove @lost-girl-inc @takura-rin  to let them know this has been posted! Readers, if you would like to be added to this list, let me know! Thank you!!

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[sideoffiction]

Christmas Eve is Here

Relationship: Platonic LAMP, Platonic DLAMP

Warnings: Food mention

Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and the sides are together to celebrate.

Happy Holidays everyone. So, this is my first fic that I wrote with absolutely no outline or idea on what I was going to write, so bear with me. 

(The only onesies I had a reference for was Virgil’s and Patton's, cause I thought they were perfect (just pretend that Virgil’s is a onesie):

Virgil:  https://images-mm.s3.amazonaws.com/Nightmare_Before_Xmas_Ugly_Sweater_Black_Purple_POP.jpg

Patton: https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0747/5107/products/91lO5Wi9rML._UY879_300x300.jpg?v=1531638388   )

This is also posted on AO3, I’ll post the link in a reblog.

I hope yall enjoy!

It was a snowy Christmas Eve. Everywhere Thomas looked, he could see the shining Christmas lights through the soft flurries. Soft Christmas music floated through the air, and his mouth watered at the smell of food being prepared in the kitchen. Yes, Thomas felt quite content at this moment. He was calm and relaxed, and it felt as if nothing could ruin his mood.

Inside his head, however, was a different story.

“Roman, can you bring me the star please?”

“Why of course, Padr-AAA!” A loud crash can be heard throughout the mindscape.

“You ok, Princey?”

“Yeah, no thanks to you, Nightmare on 34th Street.”

“What, was I supposed to just teleport over there to help you stay on your own two feet?”

“...yes!” Roman stands up indignantly, wiping himself off of any accumulated dust or dirt.

“I do not understand why you all waited until today to decorate for the holidays. I stated numerous times that you should have put everything up ahead of time.” Logan speaks up from where he sits, reclined in a chair with a book in his hand.

“Thomas was busy, we didn’t have time.”

“What about the times where Thomas himself was decorating?”

“No can do, L. What if he had fallen and gotten hurt like Sir Trip-a-lot over here? Or worse. Burned the house down? Broke a bone? Etcetera etcetera.”

“I believe he would have been fine Virgil, however I do see your need to worry.”

“Still waiting for that star over here, kiddos.” Patton speaks up from next to the Christmas tree that stood tall in the common room.

“Oops, sorry about that Padre. Here it comes now.” Roman continues his trek over to the tree, watching as he walks so he doesn’t fall once more. He hands it over to Patton, who smiles brightly.

“You kiddos ready!”

They all make their way over to the tree, even Logan, despite his complaining.

“I do not see the need to make a spectacle of putting on the star.” He says every year, despite not giving any resistance to it.

“Ready?” Patton stands on his tippy toes and places the star on top of the tree. “Aaaand. There!” He lowers back onto the balls of his feet. “Its officially Christmas!”

“Preposterous, seeing as how we still have 5 hours until-”

“Logan, shut up and let Pat have his fun.” Logan shuts his mouth, pouting slightly while doing so (though if you asked him he was not pouting, not at all).

They all stand there and take in the tree. The most prominent ornaments throughout the tree are the balls of red, two different blues, purple, and even a few yellows. (None of them had seen when Deceit had placed them, but none of them had really complained or had taken them off). Scattered throughout the branches, there was also little homemade ornaments that Thomas had made when he was younger. The tree perfectly encompassed the five of them, as well as Thomas as a whole.

“Welp, it’s time to eat now!” Patton calls, as he bounces over to the kitchen. Inside, he had conjured a long table, expanding the room to make space for it. On the unnecessarily large table sat an even more unnecessarily large amount of food. Turkey, lasagna, garlic bread, ham, and so much more sits on the table, waiting to be eaten.

They all make their way over to the table and sit down. They are about to start digging in when Patton stops them.

“Hold on, kiddos, we’re missing someone.”

“You mean good old Sleigh Lie? I doubt he’d join us. And I’m willing to bet I’m not the only one here who doesn’t want him to join us.”

“Roman, I’m surprised at you!” Patton gives Roman his worst, and most effective, dad-look. “It is Christmas, and it is our first Christmas with Dee! I don’t care if you want him here or not, he is a part of our family, and he deserves to be treated as such.”

Roman, having already given up when Patton gave him the look, sighed. “Fiiiiine.” He raises his arm, and summons Deceit. Deceit pops in with a noticeably confused look.

“What don’t you want?”

“Dee, it's Christmas Eve! You shouldn’t be alone. Come and eat with us.”

“But what if I don’t want to be alone?”

“Trust me, Deceit, I tried that one last year.” Virgil speaks up. “It did not end well.” He shivers at the memories. This, of course, spikes Deceit’s interest.

“What didn’t happen?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

“So are you going to join us or not, Christmas Lie is Here?” Roman speaks up, slightly irritated. “I don’t know if you noticed or not, but some of us are starving.”

Deceit thinks it over, humming to himself as he takes his time weighing his options. He watches as Roman gets more and more irritated. Just as Roman is about to lose it, he finally sits down at a seat next to Patton, and silently starts filling his plate. Everyone takes this as a sign to fill their own plates and dig in.

The meal goes quite well, with idle chatter fills the room. There are many compliments to Patton, as he was the one to make the food. When they all finish up, they sit at their sits and continue talking. Patton snaps away the remaining food, and brings in the desserts. The group is much slower in starting their desserts as they continue to let their stomachs digest the food they just ate.

“I’m just saying, Miracle on 34th street is a greatly underrated Christmas movie.”

“Ok, I hear you kiddo, but think of this: A Year Without a Santa Claus has the Miser Brothers.”

…

“Oh that’s his whole argument.”

“But the real question is: is Nightmare before Christmas a Christmas movie or a Halloween movie?”

“It’s obviously not a Halloween movie.”

“What do you know?”

“Might I suggest something to end your… unnecessary bickering?” Everyone looks over to Logan. “Why don’t you just watch all of these movies, and vote on which is the best, as well as the true holiday that Nightmare before Christmas was made for?”

“Logan, that is brilliant! I’ll go grab my laptop and DVDs and set it up on the TV.”

“Ooh ooh, I have something I have to go grab as well.” Roman and Patton both rush out of the kitchen, leaving the three calmest sides alone.

“You sure that was a good idea, L? Now we won’t be left alone for the rest of the night.”

“It’s as Patton had said, Virgil. Christmas is a time for family.”

They all make their way into the living room, where Roman is just setting up his laptop. Just then, Patton rushes in with a bag of presents.

“Patton, correct me if I’m wrong, but I do believe we open presents on Christmas day, not Christmas Eve.”

“I know that, silly, but these presents are different. Open them, and you’ll see what I mean!”

He passes out presents to everyone, even Deceit gets one. They all open them to see Christmas onesies, each made different for each side.

Logan’s is simple. A black onesie, with little blue wreaths on it. However, if one looks closely, they can see that the wreaths are actually made of TARDISs from Doctor Who. The neck, hand, and feet holes of the onesie are accented with the same blue as the TARDISs.

Deceit’s is a medium gray, with a pattern of yellow snakes with Santa hats. His, however, has a hood, which is also a snake face, with it’s tongue out in a blep, with a little Santa hat. The neck, hand, and feet holes are accented with yellow.

Virgil’s is the most detailed of them. It’s mostly black with an ugly sweater design of Nightmare before Christmas, with a large picture of Jack Skellington on his hill on the chest. The neck, hand, and feet holes are accented with purple.

Roman’s onesie is nowhere near as dramatic and extra as one would expect. It is red with a white sash that is decorated with silver and blue snowflakes. The neck, hand, and feet holes are accented with white.

They all look at their onesies with surprise.

“Patton these are… extraordinary! But what about you? Why don’t you have one?”

“Don’t worry about me, kiddo.” He snaps and his normal clothes are swapped for a onesie. Patton’s onesie is light blue with a pattern of Santa riding on unicorns littered all over it. If he were to turn around, the others would notice a red buttflap that states “Don’t Stop Believing”. The neck, hand, and feet holes are accented with red.

Patton giggles when the others stare at his onesie.

“Pat, you look marvelous!” Roman goes over and pulls Patton into a hug, lifting him off of the ground and spinning him, causing Patton to giggle once more.

“If we are done.” Logan speaks up, causing the others to once more look over at him. “I believe it is time to put these on and play the movies.

And so they all disperse, each going to get their onesies on and grab stuff for the movies, including blankets, pillows, and even popcorn, despite them just eating. They all settle down on the couch next to each other, with Logan and Deceit on either end. Virgil is next to Logan, followed by Roman then Patton. They all cuddle up slightly and play the first movie, immediately being absorbed into it, even Logan. Before they know it, time flies by.

Logan takes his eyes off of the screen to look at the others. They are all passed out, leaning on each other in some uncomfortable looking positions. Logan glances at his watch, and stands up slowly, careful not to wake the others up. It is just before midnight. He quietly makes his way into his room and grabs a large bag that he had hidden in his closet. If one were to look closely, they would notice the plethora of presents inside the bag.

It’s time for Santa to arrive.

[interspecieslesbianism]

My Boss’ Son

So I uh...wrote fic. This is the first thing I’ve finished in a while. Just a quick thing I wrote while at work. It’s unbeta’d with no reread because I didn’t want to give myself a chance to hate it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Stiles liked his boss. He knew a lot of people didn’t like theirs, and he knew he was lucky. Talia Hale was beautiful, and could be pretty tough if you didn’t do your job, but Stiles loved what he did too.

Network administration wasn’t for everyone, but Stiles saw doing it for a rapidly growing business as a challenge. The pay was nothing to sneeze at either. At this rate, his student loans would be paid off in half the time, and Talia always listened if Stiles needed something. Especially new equipment.

The only problem with Talia was that she kept trying to set him up with her son.

“Derek’s an artist. He lived in New York, but he moved back home for a change of scenery.” She would say. Stiles didn’t have to be a genius to figure out that it was a lie.

Stiles might even have agreed to it. He hadn’t had a boyfriend since graduation and the guy he’d been seeing had taken off to backpack around China. Stiles was so sexually frustrated, it wasn’t even funny anymore. But…

Stiles was interested in someone else And they had something going. Well…kinda.

About a month after graduation, Stiles had been out with his friends. Somehow, he’d managed to bag a guy way, way out of his league at the first bar, and the rest of the night was a happy blur.

The sex had been amazing, but as Stiles was leaving he saw a beautiful woman pull into the driveway he’d just left. Stiles had very serious rules about not sleeping with married guys. Especially not straight married guys.

But he’d never deleted the guy’s number. Stiles didn’t even know his name. Drunk Stiles had just saved the number under 🍆🍆🍆 and Sober Stiles couldn’t think of anything else to use. And sometimes, when Stiles was drunk and lonely and above all horny, Stiles would send him nudes. And the guy would always respond with pictures of his own. Straight married dude or not, he just had a really, really nice dick.

And they did talk! Sorta. Sometimes Stiles would send him memes and the guy would share IT articles. After bad nights, the guy would send little “you feeling okay?” texts. Stiles guessed to make sure he hadn’t drunk himself to death? Stiles didn’t think he was that pathetic. Not yet, anyway.

So maybe Stiles was carrying a torch for a guy he could never be with on multiple levels. The world wasn’t going to end. Now if only he could figure out a way to tell Mrs. Hale that so she’d stop trying to hook him up with Derek.

XXX

“Derek’s going to be at the Christmas party next week.” Talia said, her voice heavy with implication.

Stiles, on his knees under her desk with a flashlight in his mouth as he tried to hook the new telecommunications system to her computer, could only grunt in response.

“You never know what might happen.” Talia continued. “Those stories about the crazy stuff that happen during Christmas parties exist for a reason. She laughed. “My husband and I were interning in the same law office – long before we were married or even dating, of course. We competed, actually. Each trying to best the other. And it all came to a head during the Christmas party that year. I think that was when we conceived our eldest, Laura, actually.”

She laughed again and Stiles began trying to extract himself, just as a woman cried, “Mom!”

A beautiful woman with long, dark hair was walking through Talia’s office door, grimacing at her mother. Stiles almost slipped back under the desk. “Laura” was the same woman Stiles had seen pull into 🍆🍆🍆’s driveway all those months ago!

Not only had Stiles almost been a homewrecker, he had slept with Talia’s son-in-law? Stiles wanted to die of mortification, but he figured that might give him away. Instead, Stiles stood and tried not to look at Laura.

“Try it now, Talia.” He muttered, pushing her chair back towards the desk for her.

Talia alighted on her chair and navigated to the telecom software. The snowy screen and [Network Access Not Found] message were gone, but Talia wasn’t going to let him escape that easily.

She stood and hooked an arm around Stiles’ shoulders, pulling him forward. “Stiles, this is my daughter Laura. Laura, this is Stiles.”

Laura scrutinized him and Stiles could only pray she didn’t somehow recognize him. “It’s nice to meet you, Stiles. You’re the one mom’s been trying to make go on a date with Der, right?”

Stiles winced and nodded. “Uh y-yeah. But as I keep telling her, I’m not really interested.” Because I would do anything to ride your husband’s cock again. Shame boiled hot in Stiles’ stomach.

“Well, you’re definitely his type!” Laura laughed, making Stiles blush. “Whether or not you want to put up with him is another matter entirely. I guess you can always decide at the Christmas party.”

“Laura! Be nice to your brother.” Talia admonished her, though there was a smile on her face. “Speaking of, you and Aaron will be there, right?” Talia asked, and Laura nodded. Aaron? Was that 🍆’s name? Stiles wondered if it would be rude to change it in his phone. Putting it in as “Aaron (Laura’s Husband)” might actually stop Drunk Stiles from sending him any more nudes though. Provided Stiles could avoid both him and Derek at the party. Maybe he just wouldn’t go.

“Anyway, I’ve got to go. I just wanted to drop off the swatches for Lupe’s quinceañera.” Laura said, moving to dig in her bag. Stiles took the opportunity to slip out and run all the way back to his network closet.

XXX

Unfortunately, despite his best efforts, Stiles found himself coming back to work on Friday night, now dressed in jeans and the cheesiest Christmas sweater he could find. The snow walkers had never been Stiles’ favorite part of Star Wars, but there was just something about seeing them in the distinctive crisscross pattern just made them so much better. Plus, showing off the utmost worst of his geekdom might be so unattractive to Derek and Aaron that neither of them would ever mention his name again.

Stiles found the makeshift bar that had been set up in a corner of the largest conference room and immediately added another reason to his list of reasons why Talia Hale was the best boss ever.

The guy in the bright red vest and a pair of light up antlers asked him what drink he wanted and Stiles’ went with the classic brandy and eggnog. Alcohol in hand, Stiles moved through the growing crowd that had spilled over into the main work area.

Stiles was actually starting to have fun talking to a few people that liked his sweater, when Talia found him.

“Stiles? Ah, there you are!” Talia made her way over, the white material of her dress looking even more beautiful under the red and green Christmas lights someone had put up.

There was a tall guy following behind her in the worst Lord of the Rings Christmas sweater Stiles had ever seen. His head was down, but Stiles saw a light beard creeping up over his cheek, so maybe he was Talia’s husband?

“I’m so glad you came!” Talia greeted him, pulling Stiles into a hug. “I was afraid Laura had scared you off.” She released Stiles and motioned to the man now standing beside her. “Stiles, this is my son Derek. Derek, Stiles.”

The guy looked up and Stiles’ jaw went slack. Derek Hale stood in front of him, but there were also had almost a dozen pictures of him on Stiles’ phone in all their jacked, dark haired, and big dicked gory. Those eyebrows were unmistakable.

Derek looked about as shocked as Stiles felt, and Stiles was glad that he at least wasn’t alone. “Y-you’re Derek?” Stiles finally squeaked.

“You forgot my name?” Derek asked, looking both annoyed and hurt.

Before Stiles could reply, he noticed Talia’s same distinctive eyebrows (how had he not noticed?!) creeping up toward her hairline. “You two already know each other?” She asked, voice so curious she almost sounded accusing.

Stiles could see the slight panic in Derek’s eyes and jumped in before he could think better of it. “R-right before I was hired here. We just danced a little at a club.”

Stiles could tell from Talia’s expression that she wasn’t fooled, but all she said was, “Oh. Well then why don’t I leave you two alone to get caught up then?” Before either of them could speak, she disappeared into the crowd.

As soon as Talia was out of earshot, Derek turned back to him. “You seriously forgot my name?” This time, Stiles could just hear the note of anxiety under Derek’s words. Still…

“Obviously you forgot mine too. Stiles isn’t exactly a common name.” Stiles shot back, folding his arms.

“When I peeked at your driver’s liscense after you fell asleep, all it said was Mieczyslaw.” Derek argued, and Stiles didn’t have a good answer to that. “How come I didn’t hear from you for months?” He asked, sounding more accusing with each word.

Stiles flushed and ducked his head in embarrassment. “I thought you were married…”

Derek was so surprised; he let his folded arms drop. “You what? Why?”

“I saw Laura pull into your place that morning.” Stiles admitted, folding his arms and hugging out his annoyance at himself. “You were already so far out of my league, I guess the idea you were married seemed logical.”

“But you still liked me enough to ask for dick pics?” Derek asked with one eyebrow raised.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Drunk Stiles is an amoral dick controlled by his dick. Besides, you always responded.”

Derek’s jaw tightened and he looked down at his shoes. He stayed that way long enough for Stiles to wonder if that would just be that. Just as Stiles opened his mouth to excuse himself, Derek looked up. “Well then, how about Sober Derek takes Sober Stiles out for dinner, and we see what happens?”

Stiles only had to think about it for about two seconds before reaching out and slipping his hand into Derek’s.