#they never reached out to me again about anything i still wrote them merry christmas wishes birthday wishes whatever so maybe they remember | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

butididntpourthewhiskeys · 4 years

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L O V E B O U N D

“Christmasbound IV”

Taylor opens her eyes, just once, then closes them immediately. The entire room is spinning again. Her eyes are glued together, her vision blurry. She should’ve taken an Advil before bed. She should’ve prevented this. With a loud groan, she turns around in bed, the blanket only covering one half of her body. She swallows once, can obviously feel how dry her throat is. Taylor wants to move, wants to get up and tell herself that this is a new day, a new beginning, a new chance. All of these positive affirmations that she’s been growing up with. But today, she can’t. Maybe it was the late night whiskey while being all alone that was a bad idea. Maybe it was taking step closer to Joe and his family, which truly has been a bad idea after all.

Taylor takes another deep breath, holds her hand. She’s tired. Emotionally even more than physically. She slowly sits up. A stinging pain in her head keeping her from moving further. She looks to the side, could’ve sworn that she ensured to have a water bottle next to her bed. But the only thing she finds on the nightstand next to her is the whiskey glass. Almost empty. Disgusted at herself, Taylor moves her legs to dangle down the left side of the bed. She just sits upright, feels how dizzy she still is. When she was twenty- three and the world was against her, Taylor would always feel a sense of direction deep within her. As bad as it was, and as destructive as her dealing mechanisms may have been - she always knew this was just a phase. Just a bad month, a bad occurrence. A bad relationship. But now, at age 32, she doesn’t feel a sense of direction anymore. Even more so, she feels like she’s been on the right path. For a long time. Until she decided to leave it. Decided to go so incredibly wrong. All of that, while being a mother. Taylor swallows, stands up on the soft carpet on her bedroom floor. Barefoot and with nothing but her oversized sleeping shirt, Taylor makes her way down the stairs. Her eyes immediately fall onto the big window fronts. With swollen eyes and dried mascara on her cheek, she can’t help but smile tiredly. The world is white. Taylor can already see Eleanor before her eyes, having woken up hours ago and excitedly jumping around the Christmas tree. She’s happy it has snowed. She’s happy Eleanor is with Joe and his family. Where there’s more happiness. Where she can make these happy childhood Christmas memories that Taylor always wanted for her little girl. Even before she was born.

Taylor reaches for the blue coffee mug on the top shelf in the kitchen. She quickly turns on the coffee machine and waits silently for the warm brew to enter her cup. Maybe, just maybe, Eleanor is happier staying with Joe and Naomi, and Elizabeth and Richard. Not with her, right now, on this day. She doesn’t know how to be a mother when deep inside, she’s the lost teenage girl again. She’s never gone through this scenario when becoming a mother. She’s never been prepared that something might hit her that would absolutely numb her from being Eleanor’s mommy. From putting on a fake smile, just to be there for Eleanor. Taylor swallows the hot beverage, knows even without looking into the mirror how horrible she looks. Her shoulder long hair curly and in all directions, mascara under her eyes, bangs all messed up. She slowly grabs her phone, tabs two times to open the chat with Joe. She stares at their last exchanged messages for a few seconds. And she swallows again.

I can’t wait to have you two here, see you soon.

How ironic, that she actually felt like he had other reasons to invite her over. Other reasons than to finally move on from her.

Hey, Merry Christmas. I woke up not feeling great and don’t want to risk anything, so I think I’ll be staying home today. I’ll call later to speak to E. Merry Christmas to your family, give E a kiss from me.

Taylor drops her phone on the marble counter, doesn’t even care if the fall was a bit too harsh. She then grabs her coffee mug and wanders up the stairs again. This time though, she doesn’t go back to her messed up bed and the empty whiskey glass that is waiting for her like a cloud of guilt, in the middle of her house. Instead, she walks straight to the piano room. With bare legs, she slowly sits down on the little chair right in front of the massive piano. For a second, she just sits there, then lifts the piano lid slowly. She doesn’t even move, just takes a last sip of her coffee before placing the mug right on top of the piano. Her fingers slowly brush each key, low undefined sounds coming from the instrument. She’s never been good at life. But this was all she’s had. All she could really get right. All she will ever understand.

Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen?

Taylor begins to follow this voice inside of her. Without thinking too much, she lets her hands do the work. Wanders from key to key, until there’s a melody that speaks for her.

____________________

“Mommy, I also got the new tonniebox that I wanted. And daddy and me also read me the note that Santa left for me. Santa wrote a note, just for me!” the little girl babbles into her mother’s ears. Taylor, who’s still just in her PJs, sits on the sofa now. Coffee number three in her hands, her hair still as messed up as before. She laughs quietly on the phone, can see her daughter’s excited little face in front of her eyes. “Of course he did. You’re such a good person, and you know that Santa always has an eye on that. And he’s so proud of you, same as me.” Taylor says, consciously didn’t tell her that she’s been a ‘good girl’, this year. She’s learned the difference between society telling you you’re a ‘good girl’ and actually being a good person. There’s worlds between these two things. Taylor can hear the background noises, Elizabeth probably rushing to prepare breakfast for everyone. Just when Eleanor was done telling Taylor about her presents, she can hear Joe in the background. Asking her if ‘mummy’s still on the phone’. Taylor swallows. It takes less than five seconds and she can hear Joe’s voice. He sounds careful, almost worried, a hint of curiosity in his voice. Her text this morning was probably too obvious. He knows her too well, probably can tell already that she’s been to overwhelmed by last night. Too overwhelmed meeting Naomi. Too overwhelmed seeing Joe with another woman. For the first time in a decade. For the first time ever.

He asks her if she’s feeling better, if she can make it to join them for lunch. How important it would be for Eleanor to have her mum there. Taylor feels sick, just hearing his voice again. Maybe it’s the coffee on her empty stomach, or it’s the warmth in his deep voice, that has captured her from the first time he opened his mouth, ages ago, through all the noise, on a warm LA summer night.

“I don’t know if it’s safe for me to come over, especially with covid and.. I do feel a scratch in my throat. So I think it’s better if…”

“We all got tested yesterday. It’s impossible that…”

“It doesn’t change the fact that I feel like crap,” she says, hoping he would finally stop. Taylor hears his silence on the end of the phone line. He knows. She knows that he knows.

“Of course, I’m sorry for pressuring you. It’s just… it’s Christmas Day and…”

“No, no. You’re not pressuring me.” She then says, still feels sad whenever he does. She needs to stop doing this. Needs to stop subconsciously mirroring him. Caring so much and so deeply about his happiness that she adjusts whenever he’s feeling some type of way. Suddenly, Taylor can hear Eleanor in the background. She is asking about mommy. Asking when mommy is coming over. Taylor feels this pressure on her chest again. Is she abandoning her daughter right now? Because she can’t get over her own feelings?

“Eleanor wants to.. wants to speak to you again.” He says then and Taylor can hear him handing over the phone. It takes one whiny “mommy” and Taylor knows she needs to get up, get freshened up, get over herself. She’s not twenty- three anymore. She can’t just care solely for herself anymore. She can’t just stay right here.

____________________

With a bad tummy ache, Taylor stares out of the window, watching all the naked trees in the dim light.

You left me no choice but to stay here forever.

For whatever reason, these lyrics are stuck in her head and she knows that she needs to write them down tonight. Just when the car stops, Taylor feels a rush of nausea overcome her. She unbuckles her seatbelt and nods at her driver. She thanks him underneath her mask, swallows hard as she sees the family home just meters away from her, behind the glass of the car where she’s still sitting in the backseat. She feels unable to move, but does it anyways. After a few seconds, she’s left the car, wearing black jeans and boots and nothing but a plaid blouse underneath her coat. She slowly takes off the mask, remains there in front of the house. She’s doing this for Eleanor. She’s doing this because she’s got a responsibility. Because she’s an adult now. Taylor slowly takes a few steps up to the entry through the thin layer of snow on the ground, can already smell Elizabeth’s cherry pie through the open window that leads right to the hallway. Taylor knows she looks better than a few hours ago. Her hair and face clean. Mascara where it’s supposed to be. Blush on her lips and cheeks. Almost as if nothing had happened to her. Nothing at all. With a slight nauseous feeling, Taylor was about to ring the doorbell but stopped in the last second, as the big door opened by itself already. A bit surprised and startled, Taylor looks at Elizabeth. And the fifty- year old woman looks back at her. It’s this uncomfortable and insecure silence between them for a few seconds. But even before Taylor can say anything, Elizabeth’s face changes into a warm smile. A relief that has run through Taylor’s veins immediately.

“Oh hi there, I knew I heard a car pull up.”

Taylor nods, was just about to answer as Elizabeth already pulls her inside the house and inside her arms. This is still new to her. This is still overwhelming. Taylor closes her eyes and feels Elizabeth’s hands on her back, stroking her back up and down. She immediately feels tears building up, swallows them down in the last second, just when the brown haired woman pulls back and smiles at her.

“Are you feeling better?” She asks, a well- knowing look on her face, as she already takes Taylor’s coat from her. Taylor, who feels welcomed but trapped at the same time, just nods quietly. She doesn’t really want to talk about it.

“Yeah I felt a bit off this morning.” she mumbles. Elizabeth places a hand on her back as soon as she’s put the coat away and walks with Taylor into the kitchen. Like a wildcat in fight mode, Taylor hectically looks through the living room but nobody’s there. That’s not quite what she expected to find.

“Where..”

“Oh they’re all upstairs on the attic looking through Joe’s old theatre costumes.” Elizabeth laughs, begins to stir the sauce she’s preparing on the stove. Taylor just nods, doesn’t really know how to act or move. She just takes a deep breath standing there. An old Christmas CD from the 90s is playing. The lights on the Christmas tree are lid. The cooker hood making dump noises. Elizabeth looks up at Taylor again, can see her awkwardly standing there, leaning against the counter next to her.

“We’re very happy to have you here, you know.” She says then and Taylor feels how she blushes. She never thought Elizabeth would ever say something like this to her ever again. Not after she and Eleanor left her son. Not after the last Christmas.

“I’m happy to be here as well.” Taylor then answers and Elizabeth steals her another look, then giggles quietly.

“Are you really?”

Taylor feels like she’s freezing for a while. She doesn’t know what to do with this answer.

“Of course, I.. I’m so thankful we’re speaking again and..”

“No, I didn’t mean that.” She says and Taylor knows what she knows. It must be written all over her face. A face that says ‘he’s moved on, I haven’t’. Taylor doesn’t say anything, as Elizabeth turns down the temperature of the stove and turns around at her.

“We should go for a walk soon. Catch up a bit.”

Taylor immediately smiles and nods a few times. Even if she feels like hell is loose, this offer definitely made her smile a bit more. It took exactly seven seconds to pass, as multiple steps come down the stairs and Eleanor screams excitedly, let’s go off her grandfather’s hand to run towards her mom.

“Mommy!” She screams and Taylor laughs for the first time really today, lifts up the small girl and holds her on her hip smiling. “Monkey, hello.” Taylor smiles, Eleanor and her automatically leaning in for a kiss on the lips which is followed by Taylor stealing her cheek another kiss. Just as she wished Eleanor another merry Christmas, is when she notices Naomi’s warm smile facing them. Within a matter of seconds, Taylor feels irritated again, holds onto the little girl on her arm as if she’s holding onto her life.

“Oh darling, are you so happy your mummy’s joined too?” Elizabeth strokes over Eleanor’s curls after having watched the scene between Eleanor and Taylor with a smile. She knows that after all, Taylor’s an incredible mother. A quality that she knew she’s got from the very first day they met. Right in this house. A decade ago. “Yes.” Eleanor mumbles into Taylor’s neck and they all laugh quietly. Just in that second, Joe also joins the family kitchen and smiles warmly at Taylor. He’s glad she’s made it.

“Someone’s glad her mum’s here, huh?” he then laughs at his daughter. Taylor was about to answer him, but his hand that casually lands on Naomi’s shoulder keeps her from opening her mouth.“Ellie, are you so happy you can show mummy your presents now?” the petite woman says, looking at Eleanor who’s still on Taylor’s arm. Ellie. Just in that moment, Eleanor turns her head grumpily, and goes “My name is Eleanor”. Taylor tries her hardest not to smile, but her mini- me seems to have hit the nail in the head here. Joe immediately laughs, both hands on Naomi’s shoulders now. “Darling, why don’t you show your mum what Santa Claus left under the tree this morning for her?” He says with a grin, obviously wanted to change topics to make sure that the awkward mood in the room diminishes. In that second, Eleanor moves on Taylor’s arm quickly and signals her that she wants to get down.

Together with Eleanor, Taylor now walks into the living room, knees down in front of Eleanor’s presents.

“Look, this one’s from Santa for mummy.” She says with a bright smile and Taylor decides to sit down on the carpet while opening her present.

“Mhm what could that be?” She says, swallows hard as she finally takes a good look at what’s in her hands. A colored polaroid of Joe and Eleanor, smiling into the camera is placed in the middle of the green card. Surrounded by little Christmas stickers and drawn Christmas trees with glitter hearts on them, both Eleanor and Joe have their heads stuck together, smiling the purest smiles into the camera. She can see Joe’s arm holding the camera. Of course she’s had some help with this present. Right underneath the picture, Eleanor has placed a smiling heart sticker and wrote “from Eleanor and daddy” in her messy handwriting, just the way a first grader would do. Taylor looks at the card, tears forming in her eyes. She doesn’t want to get emotional now. Doesn’t want to get emotional here in this room. But the two humans, who are so innocently smiling in this picture, still mean the world to her.

“I love it so much.” She says then quietly, hopes that no one else has seen her get teary. Eleanor looks confused at her mum, but Taylor just laughs, wipes away the tears on her cheeks and immediately hugs her. “This is so beautiful that I got super emotional, honey.” She laughs, soothing Eleanor a bit. And the little girl nods, seems to accept Taylor’s answer.

“I made the card, but Santa wrapped it up and put it under the tree.”

Taylor laughs and nods before getting up. Especially, because to Eleanor - it actually makes a lot of sense.

“That’s so nice of him. I’m so happy Santa brought me this beautiful card.” She says, takes Eleanor’s hand before joining the others around the table.

____________________

It’s been an hour now since Taylor consciously made the decision to have a conversation with the left side of the big table - Patrick and his girlfriend Jess. It’s been so wonderful reconnecting with him, hearing about his plans for after his masters degree. Hearing Jess talk about how they met, their struggles to find an affordable flat in northwest London and how excited they are to drive up to Denmark together once this coronavirus situation is over. Taylor has made the conscious effort to ignore Naomi, Joe and Tom who are seated on the other half of the table. Taylor knows she can’t block the new woman on this table out, but she clearly is taking every chance she’s got to engage in other conversations. Just when Eleanor is tapping attentively on her shoulder is when Taylor looks up and finds Naomi, Joe and Eleanor all dressed up. Apparently ready to go for a walk. A bit confused, Taylor looks at Joe and then back at Eleanor.

“We’re going out for a walk with Flint, do you want to join us?”

Taylor immediately shakes her head, an answer that came a bit too fast.

“Oh thanks for asking but I think you should go without me.” she mumbles, the last thing she wants to do right now is go for a walk with Naomi and Joe. Eleanor however continues to pull her hand, seems to have made up her mind that her mum has to join them today. Just when Taylor was about to talk to Eleanor is when Joe already speaks up. His voice in the same gentle tone that he’s always put on when they had a serious conversation.

“Actually, it would be fantastic if we could just... talk a bit? Who knows when’s the next time that we can all get together?” he says, Naomi just standing next to him, smiling hopefully and nodding with big eyes. Taylor knows that she’s being unreasonable but she would wish that Naomi wasn’t a petite and small woman, who’s got huge eyes, seems a bit shy and radiates this incredible kindness that sickens her whenever she enters the room. She wants Naomi to be someone she can passionately hate. Someone who’s toxic and mean, who gives off bad energy. But instead, she seems to be a kind, ordinary, bi- racial woman. Someone who Taylor would want to be friends with. The last person who Taylor would have wanted as her replacement. The better choice. The easier choice.

“Yeah it would be fun to.. catch up!” Naomi then says to Taylor in her British accent, sounding a bit unsure whether she’s been taking it too far. Taylor swallows. She’s got no arguments left. If she still decides to not go with them, then she would be the bad cop. A decision she doesn’t want to have to take. Taylor slowly gets up, nods and puts on a fake smile as Eleanor already cheers on her. She seems to be way more excited than Taylor is.

“Alright, it’s fine.�� Taylor mumbles, can feel Elizabeth’s stare in her neck. She knows that it’s not fine. Not at all.

A bit insecure, just like she was back then, Taylor slowly puts in her boots that were left in the hallway. Joe watches her and he knows this isn’t easy for her. But knowing Taylor, he also is aware that things will feel way easier once she gets to know Naomi. Once she sees that she’s so respected by someone who doesn’t even know her. Once she sees that he wants her in his life. Forever. No matter what the circumstances are.

Joe remains standing in the hallway, watches Eleanor and Naomi with Flint leave the doorway already. Joe remains standing there, looks down at Taylor who’s still fixing her boots. Once she gets up, she exchanges a look with him and he smiles. Taylor is rolling her eyes.

I can’t believe you make me do this.

Thank you for doing this.

With her hands in her coat, Taylor slowly starts walking next to Joe. She feels awkward to say the least. Going for a walk with Joe, their child and his new girlfriend. Naomi carefully slows down to walk right next to Joe, and seems to be more than interested to start a conversation with Taylor.

“It’s such a beautiful weather isn’t it? I can’t believe it started snowing last night.” Naomi says and Taylor nods, can see in the corner of her eye that Joe is holding hands with her. And Taylor feels sick. To say the least.

“Eleanor was so sad these past weeks cause it hadn’t snowed yet, so she’s ecstatic today.” Joe laughs and everyone reacts except for Taylor. She usually is excellent in smalltalk, and Joe knows that. But seeing her so quiet makes him think that it’s not even a statement she’s giving him - she probably really is at a loss for words.

“Are you feeling better?” Joe asks her and Taylor slowly looks up, looks straight at Eleanor who’s holding Flint in her hands while walking down the street.

“Yeah definitely.” She says, doesn’t even try to sound like she’s okay with it. Slowly but surely, she feels rage develop in her chest. She cannot believe he’s making her do this. She cannot believe after everything they’ve been though, he can just go for a walk with Eleanor and her and his new girlfriend.

“Are you usually based in London or in America, Taylor?” Naomi then asks and Taylor can feel immediately that she’s been desperate to start a conversation with her. Taylor feels her staring at her. But she can’t face her just yet.

“Well Eleanor’s pre- school is based in London so we’re mainly here. But before covid we would travel a lot between Nashville and London.” she answers, feels actually kind of proud that she’s grown up enough to not become mean or sarcastic towards Naomi. And she can feel Joe do the same. She doesn’t have to look at him to know that he’s proud how civil she can be.

“Wow must be nice to have homes all over the world.” Naomi says and Joe laughs quietly. She cannot believe he’s laughing at her. Cannot believe he would be with someone who’s from an entirely different world. But then again, wasn’t that what Joe was to her back then? A sweet escape from the crowded and abnormal world she’s been living in. Taylor dares to look to her left and she can see Naomi looking at her steps carefully. Maybe, Naomi is Joe’s escape from her. The most painful thought she’s had for a while.

“Well, I’m sure Joe already told you that living in two different countries at the same time isn’t as exciting as you may think.” Naomi laughs quickly, and anyone who would witness this conversation could tell immediately that Naomi is nervous. Taylor hates it. Taylor hates how nice she is.

“Well, I was raised in southwest London and my family never could afford to travel. So to me, all of that sounds lovely.” Taylor says nothing.

“Daddy, can you help me with Flint’s collar?” Eleanor suddenly yells, already is a good six hundred meters in front of them. Joe immediately nods, starts jogging towards his daughter. Taylor and Naomi are now left behind, slowly continue walking down the street. And without taking a closer look at Naomi, Taylor can feel how happy the other woman seems to be that she has some alone time with Taylor now.

“It sounds ridiculous, I’m sure, but you have no idea how scared I was to meet you.” Naomi then says and Taylor wishes she never would’ve started this topic. She doesn’t know anything about Naomi and she wants things to stay this way. “When I was younger I had all of your albums at my house and... I really admire you a lot.”

“Thanks.” Taylor answers, as emotionless as possible. And she can sense that Naomi feels the cold that she radiates right now. How can Joe expect her to bond with his new girlfriend on Christmas? How can he think that her love for him has ever diminished? It never could. And he used to know that. The silence between the tall blonde woman in the big black coat and the smaller woman in the red puff jacket gets louder. Taylor feels uncomfortable and she for sure knows that Naomi feels the same.

“I know you hate me.” Naomi then says and Taylor sighs. Her anger gets more with every single word she says.

“I don’t hate you.”

“No, I mean.. I get it. And I feel so sorry for...”

“What do you feel sorry for?” Taylor asks, a bit too aggressive for her usual self.

“I’m sorry that Joe is making us meet over Christmas. It wasn’t my idea. I hope you know that. But I think he just... he wants things to become easier. With us. With you and your daughter. I think he just wants to finally have some peace.”

Naomi’s last sentence rips Taylor’s insides apart. She knows that she’s right. That she just said what Taylor sang years ago. Joe just wants to have peace in his life. With a partner who can give him that. With her as an ex- girlfriend and with his child. That’s all he wants. Taylor and Naomi just keep walking down the street, nothing but the gravel under their soles can be heard.

“You know, I will never become someone for him like you were.” Naomi then says and Taylor starts to feel sick. She can’t believe that this woman won’t stop talking. It almost feels painful hearing her voice in her ears. “You... you were his first real love. Whenever we talk about these things...” she sighs, then looks back up at Tay. “He speaks a lot about you and I think there’s just so many things he’s still digesting. Please don’t ever think that..”

“Naomi...” Taylor then interrupts her because she feels like throwing up. She can’t believe that the little person next to her is opening up to her if it she was an old friend. And maybe, exactly that kindness is what drives her insane. Because deep down, Taylor knows that Joe deserves someone as caring as that. Someone who helps him heal the wounds that she created. “I don’t hate you, Naomi. But I also need you to respect that I need time. Can we not talk about Joe anymore?”

Naomi looks at Taylor with big eyes, immediately nods. She seems intimidated by the tall blonde woman and Taylor can feel how guilty she feels. Naomi shakes her head, then turns to Taylor. “God, Taylor, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just thought maybe it would be the right way to just.. be really honest with you, but you’re so right, it was super insensible, and...”

“It’s fine.” Taylor then says, enjoys the sudden silence between them more than she expected. Taylor slowly looks up, can see Joe walking hand in hand with Eleanor. His hand lands on Eleanor’s head, and even from far away, Taylor can hear that she’s singing her favorite Christmas song. Taylor can’t help but smile for a second. Maybe, just maybe, it was all meant to be this way. Taylor still remembers ten years ago, when she first moved to New York and discovered slowly that with the lifestyle she chose, having a family and a committed relationship would be impossible. Maybe, just maybe, she was right back then. Taylor sees Joe jogging backwards, making Eleanor laugh. He seems so happy today. Playing with Eleanor, knowing he’s found someone who can give him the kind of life he was always used to, before her. The kind of life he craves. Taylor suddenly feels a new feeling in her chest. It’s a feeling she read about multiple times but never had experienced herself before, in the truest form she could imagine. She just wants him to be happy. Even if it means that she’s not part of his life anymore. At least not in the way she used to be. And she wants him to ‘digest’ whatever she did to him. Wants someone to help him heal the scars that she gave him.

“Look at that house, baby, oh my god.” Taylor squeaks for the fifteenth time in the past hour, stops in the middle of the street again. Joe grins, takes a step back to see what she’s looking at. A tiny house in brick stone with a French balcony right on the canal. He looks down at the blonde woman and laughs. She quickly reaches for her crossbody bag, takes out her phone and takes a picture. He can’t help but laugh.

“We’ll go home on Sunday and you have two hundred pictures of dutch houses on your phone.” Taylor grins, but doesn’t let him stop her. She just continues to take pictures, then buries her phone in her bag again and reaches for his hand once more. In nothing but her jeans shorts, white sneakers and huge sweatshirt, Taylor walks next to Joe. It’s a lukewarm summer night. With both hands now clinging onto Joe’s, they just continue to walk down the small street somewhere here in Amsterdam.

“I’m just in awe that there’s people living here, in this.. dream city. It’s so cozy and gorgeous. I just… Joe, I could cry how romantic this is.” Joe, who’s still walking hand in hand next to her just looks down at her with a big smile. His blonde hair a bit too long. His beard grown for his upcoming movie role. He just smiles, gets closer to her and presses a gentle kiss onto her lips. She tastes like the rose chapstick she applied earlier.

“I’m glad you like it.” he then says, continues walking down this lane. Taylor’s eyes are everywhere right now. She’s smitten by the city, smitten by the fact that she’s experiencing this. A weekend in a beautiful European city with the love of her life. No big black cars. No security around her. She feels so free with him, so safe, so… alive.

“Thanks for taking me here and organizing everything.” She mumbles. The sun is slowly setting and she’s glad she put on her sweater. “You’re very welcome. We’re almost there.” Joe says, keeps looking at his phone to make sure they’re not missing the right lane. “I think we need to go that way.” He says, points to a tiny alley on the left. Taylor looks at him and then back at the tiny street and just laughs. “God, I fucking love Europe” she laughs, holds onto his hand a bit tighter as they make their way through the alley. Joe looks back at her and she’s amused, carefully watches her steps on the cobblestones to not trip or fall.

“Where are you taking me? Do I have to be scared?” She asks, and Joe laughs.

“I’m taking you out to dinner, I already told you that.” he says all smart and Taylor just shakes her head.

“I’m really hungry. Where are we...”, within a few seconds Taylor gets quieter because she’s speechless. Just as they left the tiny street, a massive canal with a beautiful bridge that fully lid up by small lights is right in front of them. And Taylor feels like she’s in a movie. “Beautiful here, huh?” he smiles and Taylor remains speechless.

“Do you see this restaurant?” he asks, points to three small tables that are located right on the bridge next to the canal. Taylor just looks up at him, can’t believe he picked this romantic little restaurant for the two.

“Are you kidding me? This is... oh my god.” With a proud smile, Joe starts walking closer to the small restaurant. Just as they stand in front, Joe starts speaking to the waiter who then accompanies Taylor and Joe to their outside table - a tiny round table on the small bridge right over the Amsterdam canal. Taylor, who truly seems to be at a loss for words just sits down together with Joe. And the blonde haired man has to laugh at her reaction. Her eyes as big as the eyes of a child and her jaw still dropped.

“Do you like it?” he asks laughing, knows the answer himself. Taylor still looks around, unable to process how beautiful her surrounding is. She’s used to big city lights and massive crowds. But what Joe is presenting her here is quiet and calm beauty. The sunset over the old Dutch roofs. The view over the canal right from this little bridge. People who pass the street on the other side with their bikes. It’s quiet and small and beautiful.

“Joe, this is... this is by far the most romantic restaurant I’ve ever been at. How did you... how did you find this?” she asks, her phone already in her hand, taking pictures of everything around her. And Joe can’t help but smile. This was exactly what he wanted. He wanted to make this special, wanted to show her some of the most beautiful places in the world he knows. He wants to take her to all of them. The special ones and the common ones.

Just when he was about to open the menu, Taylor tells him to smile at her and he does so. The picture she just took of him makes her smile. He seems so happy, his eyes radiating in this picture right in the centre of this beautiful scenery right here at this restaurant. Taylor looks at this picture for a minute too long.

This is it. This is her entire happiness.

With a happy smile, Taylor puts her phone back into her small YSL purse and opens the menu like he just did. “What are you going to eat?” Taylor asks him and Joe smiles slightly, then looks back up at her.

“Well I’m not sure yet but I already know what you’re gonna get.” Taylor laughs,

“Okay and what is that?”

“Number 21 - truffle pasta with side salad. Dressing on the side.” Taylor looks back up at him and laughs in surprise again. He just knows her too well.

“Why the fuck do you read me like a book?” she jokes, and Joe can’t help but stare at her for a bit longer. She really does look incredible in this light. Her bangs a bit messy, her hair in a bun. She looks cozy in her sweater. But most of all she looks... happy.

“I guess I just know you very well.” he says, and Taylor closes the menu and looks back up at him. It’s a loving look, an intimate one. She slowly reaches for his hand across the table and Joe also puts the menu aside.

“You do. You really do.” she just mumbles and he feels like drowning in her eyes. Just when Joe was about to open his mouth, the waiter had already made his way to them and Joe orders - both main menus and two glasses of the Chardonnay. Taylor’s favorite.

“Do you ever think about what our lives could be like, living here in one of these tiny houses.” Taylor then says, her eyes on her surroundings. She sounds so dreamy as so often. Her heart is the heart of a little romantic. Joe still holds her hand on the table, strokes the back of it slowly. His eyes are just on her. “Maybe you would be working at the Amsterdam theatre of arts. I would be a writer. We’d both may struggle financially but live in a tiny old flat. You would get me tulips every weekend. We would eat a lot of cheese.” Joe starts laughing then, still looking at Taylor.

“I don’t think that’s what actual Dutch people do on the daily, babe.” he laughs, as the waiter already approaches their table and serves them two glasses of wine. Not even for a split second, Taylor lets go off Joe’s hand. With her other hand she’s reaching for the wine glass.

“Cheers baby. To us. Two years.” she smiles and he does the same.

“Two years. Almost.” he says and she laughs slowly.

“Oh come on, do you really think I’m breaking up with you two weeks before our anniversary?” she laughs and he just shrugs his shoulders.

“You never know.” Taylor just shakes her head. He is silly at times.

“But for real now, what if we quit our lives and move to Amsterdam and become ordinary people?” she asks him and Joe has to laugh once more. She really seems to be obsessed with this idea .

“I don’t know, I like our lives.” he says, feels a sudden nervousness overcome him. It’s the first time since this weekend. The first time that it comes boiling up and scaring him a bit.

“I mean... our lives are not normal or easy. I would like normal and easy for a while.” Taylor says, looks around herself once more. She can’t wait to send pictures of this beautiful location to her family and friends. They won’t even believe how lucky she’s been.

“I think normal and easy is not for us. We’re not normal or easy and I love that.” he says, takes a sip off his wine glass. Taylor laughs and looks at him then.

“No I am not normal or easy. You are though.” she jokes but Joe doesn’t react to her. She knows that it’s one of her weaknesses. Laughing when she’s nervous. Turning things that scare or worry her into a joke. Joe, who still hasn’t replied yet, just keeps staring at her. She’s so uncomfortable all of the sudden. And she never is, especially not when she’s with Joe.

“You are normal and you are easy too. And I love you.” he says then and Taylor looks back at him. She can see so much in his eyes, in these moments. So much love and kindness, but there’s also something else. He’s holding something back. Deep down, she can feel that.

“I know you still think you’re a burden and your life’s all complicated and all that..” he then says and Taylor freezes. There’s not been many times where he’s blurted something like this out. Without thinking twice. Just like that. Taylor swallows. Why is it that he can read her mind like that. As If she was an open book to him. “But have you ever thought for a second that you’re the only one out there I ever want to be with? I.. I don’t care about anything like that. All the.. all the complications or the not easiness or the abnormal things about your life. It’s not like that for me. I can’t ever see myself loving someone else again.” He says, ends his little speech with a smile. And Taylor just sits there, at the restaurant, holding his hand. She looks at his face but his words feel too overwhelming for her to process them. She’s had relationships before. But she’s never heard words quite like these.

“Do you understand me?” he jokes at her speechlessness then, “I can’t be with anyone else ever again. You changed me.”

“I changed you?”

“You did.” Joe looks back in her eyes and he can see how deeply emotional she is. This is it, he thinks.

“You changed me, Joe. In so many ways.” He smiles, takes a deep breath, holds her little hand a bit tighter.

“I know we never spoke about this in all seriousness, but…” he stops again, looks at her hands, before looking back up at her again. He feels shaky all of the sudden. His hands become a bit more sweaty than usually. “But.. how would you feel about.. things getting more serious in the future.”

“What do you mean?”

“How would you feel if I asked you to marry me?” Taylor sits there, a soothing evening breeze passing her face. She just smiles at him, doesn’t say anything. Then, without her controlling it, Taylor starts laughing. Loudly. Joe swallows. This was not quite the reaction he was hoping for.

“Baby, are you proposing to me? Or what is this?” Joe takes a breath, then laughs with her. He’s a bit insecure, but he’s shaking it off quite well. Acting school seems to have paid off.

“I’m not, I just wanted to speak to you about it. I mean… do you ever want to get married and have kids, or what are your plans in like… years down the road.”

“Of course I want to marry you. And I want us to have tall blonde weird ass kids.” she smiles across the table, “but.. we’re not there yet. I mean, we’re not even thirty yet. I just.. I definitely need a bit longer.” She laughs and Joe nods. He also takes a sip of his wine glass now. He definitely needs that.

“Do you feel differently?” She asks him then and he shakes his head.

“No, no I fully agree with you. I mean.. I’m 27. Way too young.” he mumbles, and Taylor reaches his hand again.

“Hey, look at me.” she says then, almost whispering because she knows he will hear her. “It’s you and me until the day I die. No matter if you love someone else or.. if you hate me. I will always love you, even when you don’t love me anymore.”

A dog barks at the end of the road. The soft snow underneath her boots creak slightly. For the first time since minutes, Taylor looks up in front of her again. Joe and Eleanor are still a good three hundred meters in front of them, have now started to pick a snowball fight. Just the two of them. And the tall man seems unlucky, seems to have taught his daughter very well. Every now and then, he acts as if Eleanor’s snowball hit him very hard. Harder than humanly possible. And Eleanor loves it, giggles excitedly while speaking to Flint about her next move.

You left me. You left me. You left me no choice but to stay here forever.

Taylor feels her body vibrating. She immediately stops, turns around at the woman next to her. “Uhm Naomi, can you.. can you walk up to Joe and tell him I need to finish something really quick. He.. he’ll know. See you later.” Naomi nods a bit confused, and it’s only then that Taylor notices how insecure the woman seems. She’s looking at Taylor, trying hard to understand her. Trying hard to read her. It’s this moment, in which Taylor understands that it’s also not easy being in her position. She’s the one who wasn’t there. Who hasn’t lived through the past years.

But Joe and her did. Every second.

More determined than before, she then turns around, already picks her phone as soon as she’s a few meters away from her. Within a matter of seconds, Taylor opens her recording app, stares at her phone for a few seconds and closes the app again. She then goes back to her picture folder, scrolls up for a few seconds. Right until she’s found it. Found something she didn’t want to see for a long time.

07.54pm, Amsterdam, Netherlands, September 4th, 2018.

Her phone still reminds her. Taylor stares at this picture for a while. Joe indeed, looked so happy. Sitting in the small restaurant by the canal. Holding her hand. Believing that they were forever. Having his mum’s ring in his pocket. Little did he know then that this evening would be the first time she would refuse his proposal. Taylor touches his face on the screen for a few seconds, then closes the app again. She goes back into her recordings, holds the phone close to her and begins to sing quietly. She doesn’t want anyone to notice her. To notice her singing nonsense into her phone - which has been the only dealing mechanism she’s ever known. She closes her eyes, right on this snowy winter day, and she’s back. Back in Amsterdam. Back in summer.

“Help, I'm still at the restaurant, still sitting in a corner I haunt, cross-legged in the dim light, everything was just right..”

#taylor swift #joe and taylor #joe alwyn #taylor swift fanfiction #joe and taylor fanfiction #lovebound #fanfiction #Christmasbound #right where you left me #amsterdam

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mortalfaerie · 3 years

Text

To Fake an Engagement (M.F.)

part 3/?

mathew fairchild x (fem) reader

wordcount: 3k

synopsis: part 3 of this series. reader and mathew are reunited at the london intstitute’s famous christmas party, and spend some impromptu alone time in the games room, where those 3 little words make an appearance. flirty, but no smut (yet). no coi spoilers.

You couldn’t help but feel something had shifted for the better after Anna’s party. Winter had descended now, covering London in a constant white cover, but you still wrote letters regularly to Matthew on the days you didn’t see him, and he wrote you back enthusiastically.

As Christmastime approached, Will and Tessa sent invites to the annual Christmas Ball at the Institute to members of the Enclave, and you diligently ticked off the days on your calendar to December 25th. Shadowhunters didn’t typically exchange gifts or celebrate in the way of many mundanes, but as it aligned with the time that the greater demon, Lilith, was banished to Edom, it warranted note and minor celebration among the nephilim.

But, for the young and carefree members of the Enclave, it was a party, and that was enough.

Your dress for the event had been a gift from your parents, and was far more extravagant than the practical day dresses you normally favored. All the same, you felt a sense of private vanity as you regarded yourself in your bedroom mirror, dressed and styled for the occasion. The dress was a lovely green velvet, ideal for the colder weather, with wide, slashed sleeves and lace trim. Your maid had drawn your hair up in the popular “Gibson Girl” style, with stray curls framing your face and a decorative sprig of winterberries tucked into a hairpin. You felt, seeing yourself, like you were viewing a rare exotic animal, far from what you displayed on a day to day basis.

With a knock on your bedroom door, your maid alerted you that your family was gathering in the foyer to depart soon, and you gethered your skirts and hurried downstairs. You shrugged on your coat and allowed your mother to fuss over you a moment before shooing you into the carriage. Your father nodded in that sort of patriarchal approval most moderately wealthy fathers did, and asked if you had your weapon on you- you turned out your pocket to show the hilt of your dagger, sheathed over your petticoat. He nodded again, satisfied, and you were on your way.

The Institute at Christmastime never failed to amaze you. Tessa had an admirable eye for design, and always the ballroom and foyer were transformed with berries, bobbles, garlands, and sprigs of pine. There was even a felled tree decorated in the entrance, which had carved wood rune ornaments adorning it. As your parents greeted the heads of the Institute, Tessa tapped you on the shoulder to whisper, “They’re gathered in the games room, if you’d like to join them.”

There was no need to clarify “them,” it was only ever your closest friends, the merry thieves, Lucie, and now Cordelia too. You nodded and excused yourself, gathering your skirts and hurrying down the corridor to the closed doors of the games room, where you took a deep breath and pushed through.

When you entered, you found James and Christopher engaged in animated conversation, while Matthew, Cordelia, Thomas, and Lucie surrounded the billiards table as Lucie lined up a shot. Just as she cracked the balls on the carpeted table, the doors clicked shut behind you and all turned to look. A soft silence fell across them for a few seconds as they looked at you, and then Lucie broke it by throwing down the billiards stick and exclaiming, “Oh, good! Y/N, you’re here at last.” and enveloped you in a hug.

You laughed at her enthusiasm, and went to greet the others. Having not seen eachother in some time now due to the weather, hugs were exchanged when normally they were not upon greeting, and Thomas patted the berry garland in your hair, commenting that you had not gotten taller in the past weeks, to which you stuck out your tongue.

The room resumed its activities before you had arrived, and you took a spot against the wall behind the billiards table, where it was now Cordelia’s turn. Matthew drifted back from the table to lean against the wall beside you. Matthew, unlike the others, had not hugged you in greeting, but smiled warmly and kissed your gloved hand.

“Hello again.” He murmured as he took his place beside you.

“Hello yourself.” you replied, bumping him with your hip.

“Is it too soon to ask for your first dance tonight?” he asked, his voice still a whisper. You turned to regard him, but saw he was serious.

“Well, Mr. Fairchild,” you said with mock formality, “my affections are not otherwise engaged.”

He smiled and replied, “Most capital. I should look forward to meeting you on the dance floor, Miss. Y/L/N.”

After that, the comfortable silence slipped over you again, as it had at Anna’s party. Your hands were close enough at your sides that your fingers brushed his, and you noticed him looking down thoughtfully as they did.

Before long, Will appeared at the door to tell you the enough guests had arrived that you all should make your way to the ballroom, and Lucie came to link her arm in yours, just as James took Cordelia’s hand, and the remaining 3 walked side by side. You thought to yourself, watching James and Cordelia warmly proceed ahead of you, that their fake marriage seemed to be faring better than you anticipated. Perhaps, not all sentiment they displayed for the public was fake.

In the ballroom, guests were finding their places at seats arranged along the walls, and you let Lucie guide you to a table in the corner, where often the 7 of you congregated during balls. As the piano turned out a german waltz, Will and Tessa took to the floor, as the hosts always have the first dance together. As they did, the young members of the enclave began to talk amongst themselves, finding partners for the next dance. Matthew found his way to your side just as the waltz ended, and the piano began into a joyful portland tune.

“Shall we?” he asked, a gleam in his eyes.

You grinned in return. “I believe we shall.”

He led you onto the dancefloor, where you took your place alongside other pairs, and began in with the lively, gliding steps of the portland polka. You laughed intermittently throughout it- the polka was a fast, fun dance, leaving little time for conversation. It was a dance to have with an experienced partner, one whose company you were comfortable in. Over the past 3 months, Matthew had proved to be all of those things, and you couldn’t help but smile as he spun you about.

At the end of the set, you bowed to each other, as was custom, and he asked, “Join me to procure refreshments?”

You held out your hand for him to take, which he did eagerly. “Lead the way.”

He offered you a sherry as you passed the refreshments, and he told you all the gossip he had gleaned from his parent’s conversations over the past few weeks as you leisurely walked a circuit around the ballroom. You smiled and laughed at his comments, but secretly you were anxious that he would drink too much as the night went on. You didn’t mind him drinking a bit, you thought, and it was fun sometimes to drink with Matthew, but you detested being truly drunk yourself, and you had waited weeks to see Matthew again in person, you wanted to savor this Matthew, uninhibited, as best you could.

You sipped your drink until you emptied it, at which point he suggested you dance again. You knew that to dance with the same man multiple times was to declare your interest, but it was well known you two were friends, so it shouldn’t seem so odd. You let him lead you in a country dance, and then turned you to Thomas, then Christopher, and even James, who was as he always was, the picture of propriety. When came a partner dance, you even danced with Cordelia, who was remarkably graceful, and then Lucie for a more jaunty circle dance that you both tripped and giggled through.

After an hour of dancing, you had slipped back to the wall near the table when you felt a tap on your shoulder. It was Matthew, who said, “Blast. I seem to have lost something in the games room. Would you come with me to look? I could use another pair of eyes.”

You smirked. “A button, perhaps? You do have so very many on your frock coat today. But, yes I shall help you, Matthew.”

He linked his arm through yours, and led you to the games room, making cordial conversation the way there. When you reached it, you slipped in and found it empty. Still, not wanting to make a loud noise, you gently pushed the doors shut behind you and leaned against them. Matthew, several feet away, regarded you.

“I didn’t lose anything here, Y/N.” he said, his voice low.

You cocked an eyebrow in confusion. “Then why did you-” but he cut you off short.

“I missed you.” he said, quiet, as through confiding a secret. Your heart swelled, but you worked to steady it.

“I am here. You have been with me all night.” you breathed. “How can you miss me?”

He walked closer to you, standing only about a foot away. “I have been missing you every moment I am not alone with you.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, your blush creeping up your neck. “Do not play with my heart, Matthew.” you warned, quiet as a mouse.

He placed his hand with the ring- your family ring- over his heart and said, “I am not playing with anything, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched and you clicked closed the lock of the door. The sound of it sliding into place reverberated through the room. You stared into his emerald eyes, searching for the sign of a lie or a joke, but found none.

Finally, your heart in your throat, you said just loud enough for him to hear, “Then kiss me, Matthew Fairchild.”

He obliged, his ring-clad hands coming to cup your face, leaning down to close the distance between you, and you gasped and rose onto your toes to meet him. Your arms came around him, one on his chest and another on his back, holding him to you. You could feel his pulse, wildly fast, under his shirt and vest, and he pressed his lips to yours in a movement that was both patient and frantic, practiced and entirely unready.

You knew Matthew had kissed people before. You had seen it, actually, at parties and at The Devil’s Tavern. Even still, his hands shook as he cupped your face, and you moved to cover them with your own, to assure him that you wanted this too.

Instinct taking over, your lips parted as he moved against them, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. You made a small noise of surprise but didn’t pull away, instead pressing yourself further against him. A sort of need burned inside you, a need to be as close as you possibly could. Your hands moved to knot in his golden hair, feeling the softness of it, and he made a noise akin to a moan against your lips when you closed your fingers around a tuft of his hair firmly. Startled, you pulled back to look at him, and he returned your look of surprise.

His face was flushed, lips pink from the pressure of kissing, and his green eyes were glazed with want. “Sorry.” he murmured somewhat sheepishly. Now, that was a moment to remember, a sheepish Matthew. “I… liked the feeling of it. I didn’t think.”

You playfully bumped his head in response. “Don’t be. I was just surprised.”

This was the Matthew you loved. Unguarded, smiling in earnest, he looked like he had when you had first met him, the look of childlike wonder restored in his eyes. You moved your hand to his cheek and he leaned into it, looking at you with an expression that was so warm and full of awe.

“Wait a second.” you said, and moved to pull off your gloves. On your hand, catching the witchlight, was the Fairchild ring, hidden under your dress gloves but worn as a private reminder, as a hopeful prayer. He smiled seeing it glint as you placed your gloves on the bookshelf beside the door. Then, you turned to him again and said very matter of factly,

“I want you to kiss me again.”

This time, you were ready. More confidently, you let your hands travel up his back, savoring the smoothness of his silk vest. He cradled your head like you were all that was precious in the world, and the kiss became faster, more eager, until you parted again, panting.

“Can I pick you up?” he asked.

You furrowed your eyebrows, but nodded. In response, he swept you up in his arms, leaving you to wrap your arms around his neck. You didn’t look away from him as he carried you to the billiard table and sat you on it, making your height level. Your legs dangled off the edge, and you kicked off your shoes mindlessly and you grabbed hold of his tie and loosened it. With your hand still around the knot of it, you pulled, bringing him back to you as his hands went to steady himself on either side of you on the table surface.

“Y/N…” he murmured against your lips. It was like a question, a warning, and a plea all at once.

“Please.” you murmured in response, and he moved to devour your lips again.

Suddenly, you heard someone try the handle of the door. At once, you were thankful both that you hadn’t lit any more lights than the usual witchlight, and that you locked the door behind you. Likely, it was another young couple looking to steal away somewhere, and they moved along the hallway in search of some other place. Matthew dropped his head into the crook of your shoulder and cursed, as you threaded your fingers idly in his hair.

When you were certain they had passed, he pulled back and looked at you. “What are we doing?” he asked, a little breathy.

“I- well, you were kissing me.” you supplied, missing the warmth of his body.

“No, I mean, what are we doing? What is this?” he asked, gesturing to the space between you.

You removed your hands from his hair and wrung them in your lap. “Well, I... I enjoyed my evening very much so far, please don’t think that I haven’t.”

He placed a hand over yours to stop you from worrying at them. “But are we doing this because of the deal? Because it’s convenient?”

Your heart fractured at the suggestion. Haughtily, you scooted off the table and paced, shoeless, away from him.

“Y/N?” he asked to your back.

“Do not speak about convenience to me.” you said, more sternly than you intended.

“What does that mean?” he asked, an edge of exasperation in his voice.

You whirled. “It means, Matthew,” you pointed an accusatory finger at him, “that I have loved you since I was 14 years old, so do not think to speak to me about convenience!” you hissed, still aware that you had to keep your voice down.

Matthew laughed humorlessly and raked a hand through his hair.

You simmered in your building rage. “You said you would not play with my heart.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he replied, “And I am not.”

“Then why would you suggest that you have brought me to an empty room and kissed me because of convenience?” you demanded.

“I suppose I thought because you would lose so little in this deal, that it might just be convenient excitement for you!” he exclaimed in a harsh whisper.

Your face burned. “I had thought better of your opinion of me.” you moved to go grab your shoes, but he caught your arm.

“I had no idea that you loved me!” he said, trying to halt you in your path.

“Why else would I agree to this?” you demanded. “Why else would I hope that at the end of a year, you might love me? Why keep the ring?” you flashed your hand to him. “Why entertain ideas of marriage, Matthew? Why suggest I marry you if you didn’t think I loved you?”

“Because I didn’t want to think I would have to be alone!” he admitted. His eyes were sparkling with the suggestion of tears in the dim witchlight, but none spilled over.

You couldn’t take it. You might have been red with frustration and deeply annoyed with him, but you never could stomach Matthew to think so desperately low of himself. Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around his chest in a hug, and he froze, then enveloped you.

“Matthew, you would never be alone. You have a parabatai, friends, and you would have found love regardless.” you assured him, but you felt the tremble of his body and accepted his nonresponse as him trying not cry. You hugged him closer, and listened to his heart rate as it began to finally slow, and his breaths became more even.

“I don’t deserve you.” he said quietly.

“That is not for you to decide.” you countered, not releasing your hold on him. “I am happy when I am with you.”

He rested his chin on your head as he spoke, “But would you be happy if you married me?”

“Not for you to decide.” you repeated. “A marriage is a partnership. Its success would be as much my work as yours.”

He was quiet for a moment, before taking your face and turning it to him. “If you would marry me,” he began, “I would be forever thankful to you. I would spend each day in service of your happiness.”

You kissed him again, sweetly this time, savoring his taste. When you pulled away, you said, “We should return to the ball before there’s much suspicion. Oh, and fix your tie and hair.”

Matthew’s hand went indignantly to his hair, which was thoroughly mussed by your hands.

You smiled as you put your shoes back on and gloves, then peeking out of the door to be sure no one was there. You slipped out, Matthew’s arm cordially laced in yours, as you cut through to the kitchen to grab a piece of cake. While slipping through the adjoining sitting room with your spoils, you found your friends already there, having stolen some of the cake as well.

“There you are!” Cordelia exclaimed, and gestured for you to join them, hiding out from the ball.

James snickered, however, and added, “But first, look up.”

Confused, you looked first to Matthew, and then up to the archway above you, where a sprig of mistletoe was hung, probably by Bridget, with her folk traditions.

You flushed immediately, and began saying, “Oh, really-” but before you could finish, Matthew snaked an arm around your waist and pressed a sweet, soft kiss to your mouth. You broke away, still blushed a deep red and regarded your friends who wore expressions of laughter, surprise, and suspicion. Lucie regarded you with a look that said you’d be explaining yourself later. For now, though, you went to join your friends eating pilfered Christmas cake as the night went on.

#matthew fairchild #matthew fairchild x reader #the mortal instruments #the last hours #the infernal devices #the dark artifices #the shadowhunter chronicles #cassandra clare

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fangirlovestuff · 4 years

Text

A Perfect Tree - Jake Jensen x reader

a/n - hey lovely people!! sorry this is soooo incredibly late, this is for @donutloverxo, @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817‘s Hoelidays challenge and it’s new years eve... (happy new years btw!!) i hope you still enjoy this fluffy one, i’m really glad i got to write something for jake because i love him:)

Summary: You meet Jake when he comes into the coffe shop you work in to get himself a drink, and you’re immediately curious.

Prompts: Coffee Shop AU & Decorating the Christmas tree

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: a few curse words, maybe implied age gap but reader is in her early twenties and jake is in his late twenties, so not that extreme

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

You were a student, so working afternoons at a coffee shop was the most reasonable way to make the money you desperately needed to get you through college. Right now, it was a hot spring day, so there weren't any people in the shop, which gave you a great opportunity to have a little unplanned break to stare at your phone and turn your brain off for a few moments, something you rarely had time to do.

However, after a few minutes the bell above the door rang, announcing the arrival of a customer. You sighed internally, mourning your short-lived break before lifting your eyes to greet the customer.

All of your dismay faded once you got a good look at him, and only one thought remained – fuck. He's so cute.

His broad frame was making his way towards the counter, and he was looking at his phone as well, not lifting his eyes until he got just in front of you, and of fucking course he had the most stunning blue eyes you had ever seen. You swallowed heavily.

"Hello, what can I help you with?" you said in your best customer-service voice, letting out an internal sigh of relief that you didn't fumble over your words.

"Um, I'd like…" he said, his eyes scanning the menu he picked up from the counter, "an espresso please. Long." He lifted his eyes from the menu and maybe it was just you, but you thought you saw his eyes scan your face for a brief second. He smiled at you expectantly.

"Uh, sure thing. That'll be… five thirty. Anything else?"

"No, just the coffee," he smiled again.

"Alright. And your name please sir?"

"Jake."

"Okay then Jake," you smiled and lifted your eyes up to meet his gaze after you were done typing away the order, "you can just grab a seat, I'll call on you when it's ready."

"Perfect," he nodded, before sitting down at one of the further tables.

Once sat down, you could release the breath you didn't know you were holding. Get a grip, you thought at yourself before moving to make his order. But you couldn't resist sneaking a peek at Jake from the corner of your eye every few moments.

He was hunched slightly over the table, typing away on a laptop he somehow already managed to turn on. His gaze was focused, concentrated, which allowed you all the gaping time you wished. You noticed the way his taut muscles stretched with every movement of his arms, his tight t-shirt looking like it was about to rip apart. You noticed the way he licked his lips in concentration, the motion seemingly automatic. You noticed his brows furrowing as his eyes scan-

Shit, you nearly spilled his coffee!

You hastily righted the cup and came to the counter to hand it to him.

"A long espresso for Jake?" you called out with a slight smile.

His head shot up and he got up to get his coffee and pay. As he passed you the money, his hand grazed against yours. It was warm, and you thought he left it in place just a bit longer than he needed to, but maybe that was just wishful thinking.

"Thank you," he said, a sincere smile on his face. You just nodded at him, and before you could think of anything of value to say he was already walking back to his table, sitting down and sipping his hot coffee with caution.

He sat there for a little bit longer, typing on his computer and drinking. You thought he looked a little worn out, tired, but you were probably just projecting. You huffed out a breath and went back to work.

When he left, he just nodded your way with a smile and you nodded back, giving him a small wave as he left. Oh god, a wave? Really? God, you're pathetic.

That was the first time you met Jake. As time went by, he would often come into the coffee shop to work, or at least that's what he seemed to be doing on the computer. Sometimes he came in looking extra tired, and a few times even with a bandage or a scratch, but you never asked his why. After all, that was never your business.

You learned more things about him, in short conversations over the counter as he waited for his drink. You learned his last name was Jensen. He told you he was a technician, but something about the glint in his eye as he said that told you that wasn't probably the entire truth. Nevertheless, you never asked, not wanting to be rude or cross any boundaries.

Jake had the tendency to disappear sometimes. There were weeks he'd come in nearly every day, and then two weeks went but when he didn't show up at all. It raised your suspicion, but obviously you didn't do anything about it. Hell, you didn’t even know what you were suspecting him in.

One day, he came to the coffee shop earlier than he usually did, at an hour he was the only one in the shop besides… well, you.

He ordered his usual and sat down at his table. You turned your back on him to clean up the machine behind you when you heard him call your name.

"Is there a problem?" you asked, confused.

He got up and walked towards you, holding something in his hand.

"I'm afraid I have to return this napkin," he handed it to you with a smile.

You frowned, "What's wrong wi- oh," you smiled upon unfolding it. He wrote down his phone number, with a little 'xo' at the end. "Oh, now I see what's wrong with it. I'll go get you a new one," you said.

You grabbed a napkin and scribbled your number down on it. "Is this one better?" you asked with a smile, handing it to him.

"Much better," he smiled, his hand purposely hanging onto yours for longer than necessary when grabbing it. "Thank you," he winked and turned to leave.

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

You and Jake have been dating for almost a year now, and this was the first Christmas you were spending together.

"No, Jake- gimmie that!" you laughed as he kept the sparkling orbs high above his head and out of your reach.

"Not until you apologize," he tutted with a smile.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. "Fine. I'm sorry I called you a grinch," you drew out. "I only did it because you were being one. Now can we please decorate the tree already?" you pouted.

"I wasn't being a grinch!" he insisted.

"See? That's exactly what a grinch would say!" you laughed, "You can't just turn off my Christmas music when I'm mid-jam session!"

"That's not called being a grinch, that's called being considerate of our neighbors," he smirked, but gave you the ornament he was holding anyways. You stuck your tongue out as you took it from his hands, hanging it on your Christmas tree.

Suddenly you smirked and started singing as loudly as you were before, "All I want for Christmas i-" but before you could hit the high note, Jake simply picked you up over his shoulder and started carrying you away.

"No wait," you said in between fits of laughter, "I'll stop I promise, just let me decorate the tree!"

"Alright," Jake chuckled and put you down. "But no more singing! You don't want to get on the naughty list," he smirked.

"Who said I didn't?" you smirked right back, and before he could reply you were already walking back towards the tree. Jake joined you and you both decorated in silence together, his getting to all the high places.

After a while, all that was missing was the star, and you walked back to enjoy your handiwork. "I think we did a pretty good job," you told Jake, who was getting the star out and handed it to you. With a smile, he gestured and you hopped on his back, wrapping your legs around his unfairly slim torso as you carefully put it on top of the tree.

"Perfect!" you exclaimed, bouncing up and down as he put you down again.

"Almost," Jake replied with a grin. "I have a surprise for you. Um… here, put these on," he gave you his glasses and you put them on, immediately blinking harshly.

"Jake, you are so blind!" you yelled as you rubbed your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I just didn't want you to see the gift!" he yelled back excitedly.

"You could've just told me to close my eyes!" you giggled, as you did that anyways. Glasses with the wrong prescription were a nightmare.

"Well, I see you're doing it anyways," he said, his voice closer than you expected, as you felt him reach out and take the glasses off on your face. "Open your eyes."

You opened them, blinking a few times before registering what he was holding – a little coffee cup ornament, that said 'I love you' on the side. You pounced on Jake and pulled him into a bone crushing hug, whispering "I love you too, dork," into his neck as he held you.

When you backed away, you could see his face was stretched into a grin. "I take it you like it?"

"I love it," you pecked his lips sweetly before taking it from him and hanging it on the tree.

You stepped away, your back leaning against Jake's chest as he leaned his head on your shoulder. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

"Merry Christmas," you answered back with a smile, tilting your head back to meet his lips in a gentle kiss.

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

hope you liked it!! sorry it was so late, it’s been a rough month (and year lol). heppy new years, i hope you have a safe and wonderful new year!<3

Taglist: @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @peggycarter-steverogers @evansphnx12

if you wanna join / be removed from a taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

#happyhoelidays2020 #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #jake jensen x you #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen fluff #chris evans fluff

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woahajimes · 4 years

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MERRY CHRISTMAS, TOTI!!! I uh, I wrote an alternate ending to the fic... i made it romantic even... hope you like it! (edit: i FORGOT TO TAG YOU! BIG facepalm gdgrterkja @totita030 )

**part one**

Jonathan Kent lifted his head from in between his knees. He met Damian’s eyes, just after Damian had spoken, then he lowered his head again, closing all contact with the figure in front of him. He knew what this was about, and he was tired of it. His weak hallucinative brain was playing games on him, making him see things that never were real.

Jon lifted his head as Damian broke a small silence. “Why did I just catch a piece of Kryptonite, Jon? Why are you- why are you bleeding?”

Jon reached for the bag beside him, tosses it at Damian, and with that same hand, he wiped his eyes, clearing his view, a small portion anyways.

Damian placed the crystal he had caught in the bag and held it in front of him. “Why?” He gestured at the pieces of Kryptonite scattered on the floor.

Damian continued, “Did you have a fight with your teammates? Your dad? Have you even called your family on earth? I know I haven’t received a call from you.” Damian paced on the floor, crouching down and picking up pieces of Kryptonite Jon had thrown just earlier. “Did you fight with your girlfriend? She was the one that sent me here, she said you weren’t ‘doing okay’.”

Jon moved his legs slowly, crossed his legs slightly. “I don’t have a girlfriend,” Jon mumbled.

Damian walked towards Jon, then crouched to pick a piece of Kryptonite beside him. “Is that why you’re… doing whatever it is you were doing? Did you break up with your girlfriend?”

Damian walked away from Jon, and Jon couldn’t help but stare at him. Could this be, could he be real? Or was this his mind toying with reality and not, as it always did?

“What?” Damian snapped. “Why are you looking at me like that? It’s not like you’re crying over me or anything.”

Jon kept quiet, he just stared at Damian, blankly, trying to figure out which occasion this was. He turned away, leaned his head back on the wall.

Damian’s eyes widened as he picked up another piece of Kryptonite “No. No, no, no, Kent!” His voice was harsh and unforgiving. “You don’t- you can’t just hurt yourself because of me! It’s not- I’m not-”

“What?!” Jon raised his voice, it rung a bit in his ears. “Are you not worth it, Damian? Are you going to pull a fucking movie scene on me?”

A silence fell between them, and Jon watched as Damian picked up more pieces of Kryptonite, each smaller than the last time. He felt like a child, a child that had just thrown a tantrum. He hadn’t noticed he shattered so many.

“Do you remember that letter your wrote? For english Class?” Damian tied a knot in the bag of kryptonite, despite there being slims of pieces on the floor. “The whole ‘best friend’ paragraph.”

Jon nodded, and Damian continued. “Well, i guess the whole school wrote them, because I had to write one as well.” Damian took out a piece of paper, then read it to himself. Then he crumpled it into a ball, threw it at Jon.

Jon caught the ball, barely, and he opened it, despite flinching with every movement of his hands. He started reading it.

I moved in with my father when I was ten years old. I knew what to expect, all things different. He wasn’t affiliated with those my mother was, he didn’t do things the way my mother did. I have learned a handful of things since then, one of them, one i hold dear to this day, the importance of an Acquaintance. Someone with nothing but good intentions towards you.

After three years of living in Gotham, Jonathan Kent and I met through our fathers, yet I made the realization still a few months past that.

I am still unsure of where it came from, the whole trope of ‘having someone’s back’. In order to have somebody’s back, you must stand behind them. A friend would do that, whereas a best friend would not. A best friend would stand beside you, risking all they can to help you.

Jonathan Kent is my best friend because he has been there for me countless times. If i had to describe him in a word, I would say he is constant. I suppose those don’t describe him in literacies, but in my life, he is constant. A constant ally, Jon had been patient when we met, when thigns weren’t the best they could be. I warmed up to him, although it could be said that it went both ways.

Jonathan Kent is my best friend because he stands beside me, every single time, when things get hard, and when they don’t.

Jon looked up from the paper, saw Damian leaning on the wall in front of him. Tears prickled Jon’s eyes, he held the paper up for Damian to see. “Did you mean this?”

Damian shrugged, and Jon couldn’t pinpoint a specific feeling behind it. “I used to.”

“You- used to?”

Damian straightened his posture. “Well, yeah,” he looked at Jon. “You had just… left. Like that, out of the nowhere. You had said you were going off to your grandpa’s but i thoguht you meant the Kents. I was convinced you meant the Kents. You always did like to visit Kon.

“But then you didn’t show up for Patrol, not even that thursday, for Kebabs,” Damian pursed his lips, then continued. “So I talked to Clark, and he said you were in space. With the grandfather you had never mentioned.

“I wasn’t worried though. I knew you’d be fine,” Damian paced around the room. “I mean, you always were. And then you came back, and I don’t know how i feel anymore. I thought you were mad at me or something.”

Whatever warmth that had built up in Jon’s chest evaporated. He snapped right then. “Oh, yeah, Damian? Well, i’m sure that it wasn’t you that spent years lost in outer space, trying to figure out why not a soul had come look for you.”

Jon laughed bitterly. “You hadn’t tried for years to keep your sanity, Damian. You- you weren’t hearing voices those three weeks I wasn’t there!”

His wounds were closing rapidly, allowing Jon to fly himself to his feet. His head spun lightly the moment he straightened himself, his torso felt like static, an all-too familiar feeling. He sat on the bed, kept his hands in his lap.

“You’ve mentioned that a lot,” Damian pointed out. “You hearing voices. Care to elaborate?”

Jon kept his eyes straight at the door. “It was weird. I was seeing things that I knew weren’t real, but I couldn’t help it. It was tempting, a little company. Someone to talk to, someone to keep habits with. Though, I wasn’t seeing as well as I was hearing. If I closed my eyes, i could pretend I was at home, that I was being called down to dinner. That the chains around my wrists were just… handcuffs from walmart, that I was playing cops or something.

“Even now, it feels like- you’re not real, Damian. Nothing is real. I’m still in the volcano prison, and I’m about to die, I’m powerless. I haven’t seen the yellow sun in years, I’m so weak, Damian,” Jon met Damian’s eyes. “So, so weak. And I’m dreaming this up. All of it.

“Or maybe,” Jon continued, filling the gaps of Damian’s silence. “I’m here, with the legion, in the dumb future, and I’m in this room, alone. All alone, just a wall in front of me, the frame on the wall.”

Damian stopped pacing, he stood right in front of him. “Jon,” Damian reached his hands out, cupped Jon’s face, tilted his head upwards. “I'm real,” He whispered, then he kissed him softly, but with yearn.

Jon pulled away after a beat too long, he was still just inches from Damian. “Are you sure?” he whispered back, and only by what was left of his super-vision he had heard what Damian answered, right before Jon’s lips crashed against his.

“Positive.”

#HMMM #ROMANTIC DAMIJON? THINK SOOOO #damijon #damian wayne #jon kent #super sons #jondami #more tags? more tags.#bruce wayne #SECRET SANTAAA #LOVE YOU TOTI #robin #superboy #Legion of Superheroes #uhmmm #superman #lunatick

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arknights-imagines · 4 years

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Broca for Chrismas special! Loved how you portrayed him in that one piece you wrote, and I'm honestly starving for more content with him,,,

From, Broca

Christmas Letter and Gift event

Early in the day, you head to your mailbox to pick up whatever documents are left there, but you instead discover a small cube-shaped box and a brown envelope. Curiously enough, you don't remember ordering anything, nor were you expecting any kind of package. You bring them back to your office nevertheless, inspecting them on your way.

There’s no names or anything of the sort on the box nor the envelope - where were these coming from? Upon reaching your office, you shut the door and sit at your desk immediately, placing the box on your desktop while keeping the envelope in your hands.

It’s paper is rough and the envelope gives off an almost intimidating feel; after again confirming that there’s nothing on the front or back of the envelope, you tear it open to reveal a slightly wrinkled sheet of paper. You blink; that wasn't exactly what you were expecting from such a mysterious envelope, but when you completely remove the paper from its casing and unfold it, it all makes a little more sense.

It’s a letter - the paper has clearly been fidgeted with quite a bit, in fact, it even looks like it was crumpled into a ball only to be smoothed out as best as possible, a sign that the sender was having doubts or conflicting feelings. But of more importance is the small yet bold handwriting that makes up the body of the letter; the printing is so distinctive that in an instant you know who your mysterious sender is.

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

Morning. Or, afternoon, depending on whenever you decide to read this.

Good grief...no way of backing out now.

I don’t like Christmas. What’s there to like? The weather outside makes it impossible to do anything, the air smells too sweet, all the lights are irritatingly bright and the carols everyone sings sound like a broken record with how repetitive they are.

So when Chiave and Aosta asked me what I was getting you for Christmas, I was convinced that they had utterly lost it and answered them explaining how I wouldn't be giving you anything special for such a laughable occasion.

Their reactions to my own reaction were unnecessary, if you ask me: Chiave was somehow a little offended, and Aosta looked confused. One of them insisted I had to get you something because we were...lovers, which was so ridiculous I almost got up and left the room completely. I reminded them that I had no reason to, and then Aosta looked me directly in the eye and said something.

“You had no reason to become so close to them either.”

Tch, a bold claim. But when I thought about it….he’s right. Why I let you in and allowed something to form between us, I don’t exactly know, but I don’t particularly care, because I don't at all regret my choice. My reasoning behind everything I’ve done for you is that you mean...a lot to me. When I imagined the face you might make if you received a gift from me...good grief, who said you were allowed to cause my heart to beat so fast?

Even if I were to get you a gift, it wasn't as if I had anything suitable to give to you.

Aosta suggested a letter. A stupid idea, considering I’m not particulary fond of using words for much of anything, but between myself, him and Chiave, it was the only feasible one.

So, next time you see him, you should really say ‘thank you’.

Christmas...didn't particularly celebrate it in Siracusa. The Mafia weren't a very festive organization. I’ve never needed to write Christmas letters or think about Christmas gifts - good grief, coming to Rhodes Island really has been a hefty change for me. Never thought I’d be writing a holiday letter to my...lover. Tch, that word…

[Name]. Even now it’s hard for me to believe that I care so intensely for you. The only people I’ve had these many feelings for are Aosta and Chiave, but even the way I feel toward them is nothing like the jumbled pile of emotions you cause in me.

Though everything, I want to stand with you. I want to protect you, I want to be alone with you. Tch...it’s selfish of me, but sometimes all I want to do is get away from the corruption of this world and hold you in my arms.

You should pat yourself on the back - if not for your continuous efforts to grow closer to me, we would still be strangers. I might’ve been the one who let my walls fall to allow you closer to me, but, you were the one who had the courage to approach me despite everything you had heard. Because of you, I feel like I have a place at Rhodes Island.

Don’t know if I ever thanked you for that…so thanks.

Good grief, to be honest...I’m not really doing all of this because it’s Christmas. I just think...it’s about time I use something to express this adoration I feel for you. Tch, again with all these words I never thought I’d be using.

Didn't think I would end up getting you something, but besides the fact that Chaive was so annoyingly persistent in asking me about it that I changed my decision so he left me alone, your face kept forcing its way into my mind everytime I told myself I wouldn't be giving you anything.

This gift and this letter aren't about Christmas. They're about you and I. They're my best attempt in expressing how much I...care about you and want you to be happy. [Name], I’ve told you before - I will do anything you ask, because ‘for you’ is more than a good enough reason in my mind. But when it comes to fulfilling materialistic or emotional wants, I’m not very skilled.

If someday you decide the happiest place for you isn't with me, then very well. But until then, I will try my hardest to make you feel at ease - tch, even if it makes my face red and my heart race.

This whole Christmas letter thing...didn't go as bad as I thought it would. I’m not particularly eloquent, but me writing this to you...good grief, I’m probably going to be thinking about you reading this hours from now.

I have no intent in wasting your time. Careful with your gift, and...tch, when you can, come see me. Love you.

Broca

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

Heart still feeling fuzzy from the letter, you hurriedly transfer your attention to the small cube box again; heeding Broca’s advisement to be cautious when handling it, you cut open the tape sealing its lid carefully, eyes full of eagerness as you open the package.

From inside the box comes a miniature, carefully crafted model of yourself, a smile on its face. Every detail, from the patterns on your Rhodes Island jacket to the colour of your eyes are captured perfectly. Your lips upturn to mirror the warm grin the model of you wears as you hold it carefully in your palm - this was Broca’s work, quite obviously. His effort can really be felt, and beyond that, you’re surprised with how every one of your features are portrayed in such a captivating manner; your chest explodes with warmth at the both fact that he worked so hard on something just for you, and the realization that Broca really does view you with more warmth than he has ever felt toward anyone else.

Placing the miniature model on your desk carefully, you return to the box, turning it upside down and giving it a few shakes; a folded up sheet of paper falls from inside the box and onto your lap, causing you to blink.

Your fingers unfold it, and your eyes light up once more at the sight of Broca’s handwriting again, ‘Merry Christmas, [name]. The gift...tch, just take it. Don't particularly need anything in return.’ Though the first sentences are a little cold, the ones that follow after prompt you to stand and rush out your door wearing a smile, with Broca as your destination; ‘[Name]...good grief, this is bordering on begging but don't go. At one point, you meant nothing to me, but now...I don't think I’d be happier anywhere else but by your side.’

#broca appreciation 🥺👉👈#arknights #arknights imagines #broca arknights #arknights x reader #arknights doctor #arknights broca #arknights imagine #arknights writing #arknights fanfic #christmas event #imagine #imagines #writing

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its-chelisey-stuff · 4 years

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My 2020 in dramaland pt 2/4

Merry Christmas to all who celebrate it and happy holidays to everyone!! These are my favorite korean dramas of the year (I stand by these titles and I’m not ashamed of them lol). In chronological order:

My Holo Love: Say what? Who? First of all, I think this is a seriously underrated kdrama. I made a review on it here. Female lead had face blindness and Male Lead was a genius programmer. I know how this sounds but it all works for the plot, actually. Loved every moment of it (I watched it twice, and I rarely do that with dramas). A sort of sci-fi/fantasy romcom drama with a really unusual (and thus my favorite, EVER) love triangle and a nostalgic feel to it. While looking at my list of kdramas I knew I couldn’t treat Holo like all the others LOL it was special for me and still is.

OTP: They had sizzling chemistry! I honestly bought every cliche because of it. Including love at first sight.

Thing I enjoyed the most: The story was simple and had a lot of cliches but they kinda worked to the story’s advantage. This show is an example of why I fell for kdramas almost 10 years ago. Plus, the CGI wasn’t bad. It’s ony 12 eps and they don’t really last an hour. A one day watch.

Do I recommend it? I LOVED it, but I recognize it’s not for everyone, but if you’re looking for something fun, cute and light to binge-watch that still has some drama and a lot of romance and a happy ending, this is for you.

Find me in Your Memory: Beautiful. Awesome chemistry. Very romantic. She’s an actress, he’s an anchorman. She forgets a lot of things, he literally can remember most things REALLY WELL. She falls for him first, he tries to put distance because of his terrible past in his dating life lol but she wins him over and by the end, he loves her more than anything and anyone. They overcome a lot of crazy shit, and being together it’s hard, but it’s worse being apart. I made a review.

OTP: Loved them both individually and together. And honestly, THAT chemistry was perfect.

Thing I enjoyed the most: The chemistry and the acting by the leads. I became a fan of both because of this.

Do I recommend it? You really haven’t seen it? Please do it. Hahahaha Well, do it if you want to see a good melo knowing what that involves (romance, sadness, lots of tears, some frustration, etc). A really sweet and happy ending that was very well deserved. My favorite melo of the year Sorry Brahms!.Also, fair warning, it has a stalkers’ sub-plot.

The King: Eternal Monarch: You all know what this is about. And I said everything I wanted in my posts (I was mostly fangirling like crazy). Here’s my last one about it. I loved the acting and the story a lot. But I think the drama should have been longer. Also, I loved the energy of the actors behind the scenes, idk why, but it always warms my heart to see the actors get along on set. Sure, it could be a publicity stunt, but I just don’t think it was the case with this one. And I know not a lot of people liked the two lead characters and said they had no chemistry but imo they were great characters and the actors had LOTS of chemistry. It’s just that it wasn’t very well translated in the first eps, but it was fixed. This, I believe, was a more of a direction problem, rather than a script or acting one.

BTW if the drama was already about time travel and parallel worlds, I had NO problem believing in destiny and that the leads were meant to be. It was fantasy, you guys, not rocket science.

OTP: the main couple loved each other passionately and fiercely. He waited 20+ years to meet her and another 20+ years (practically) to see her again AND she was willing to risk getting stuck in a timeless void just to be by his side because otherwise he would be all alone. Now, that’s love! Personally, I loved their ending.

Thing I enjoyed the most: The King ahahaha I’m a shameless fan, what can I do? He was a good man and a gentleman but a ruthless king thirsty for justice and vengeance. I cheered when he killed his uncle lmao. Also, all the mutuals I “met” thanks to this drama. You guys made the experience even better with your posts and your theories!! *sends hugs*

Do I recommend it? Look the story is great in my eyes. I did understand it and the mechanics of the time travel and the parallel worlds. The King explained everything quite a few times. I say this because most people that didn’t like it say they couldn’t understand the story and/or it made no sense. To me, it did. But I can see why this wouldn’t be for all. That being said, I shamelessly recommend it lol.

More than Friends: The faces they’re doing in the poster, are the ones I did while watching the last 4 eps of this drama HAHAHA which made me real sad/angry because I LOVED the story from ep 1 to 12. So, this is on the list MERELY BECAUSE OF LEE SOO, the male lead, played by Ong SeongWu. I went crazy and wrote about almost every scene on the drama lol I was obsessed. You can read my review about the whole thing here.

OTP: Wonderful chemistry. The best either of the actors have had so far with any of their co-stars. Then again, SeongWu has only been in 2 dramas and 1 movie. And Shin YeEun hasn’t been in a lot but had really good chemistry with Park JinYoung in He’s Pyschometric. (btw that drama is superior, I highly recommend it!)

Thing I enjoyed the most: The magnificent character development that Lee Soo went through. He was a completely different person in ep 16 compared to the selfish jerk in eps 1-4 (SeongWu’s acting in this convinced me he is one of the best actors of his age, and one of the best idols turned actors at the moment). And I loved discussing this drama with the only other 10 people who were watching it hahaha Thanks y’all.

Do I recommend it? They advertised it as a romcom, but it really isn’t. It’s more of a slice of life/melo drama. I believe this is better as a binge-watch, but do not expect mindblowing plot, since it’s a character driven drama. So, do check out my review about it and have a go at it, I guess hahaha If not, you could see my posts about the show here and still know everything, because I pretty much covered the entire drama HAHAHA.

Note: I kinda think this drama is sort of a “500 days of Summer” situation, people either sympathize with ML or FL and hate the other. Or both HAHAHA It’s all about perspective, I guess.

Tale of the Nine Tailed: Everything you could ask for in a fantasy drama. For me, it was perfect and it made me cry like a baby. I made a review on the finale. I actually liked that he got his powers back at the end. Also, the main couple was the most functional couple I saw this year in kdramas. Which is crazy if you take into acount that he wasn’t human and both had a lot of pain and traumas from their pasts. Which shows that communication and trust is key to every relationship.

OTP: THEY LOVED EACH OTHER SO MUCH! AND WERE BOTH HOT. SO HOT FOR EACH OTHER. I kinda ship the actors now lol

Thing I enjoyed the most: Jiah, Yeon and Rang. The romance and the relationship between Rang and Yeon, which is what actually made me cry in the end. But we all knew it was coming.

Do I recommend it? Hell Yeah. Might not be for everyone, but if you like fantasy and romance, one heavily connected with the other, and the reincarnated lovers trope which I adore! then this is your drama.

Honorable Mentions:

You know, they almost made it. But something held me back. Still, it didn’t feel right to put them with the other dramas. So they got an honorable mention with my favorite ones.

Itaewon Class: This was, in general, a tragedy. But I loved it. Ooops. Dude was only stopping a classmate from bullying another and got his whole life ruined: got expelled, his dad was killed, he went to jail and had to start from the bottom and reached the top all thanks to one special and unique young girl. My eyes were full of tears when he finally got his happiness at the end and justice for his dad. Plus, it deals with a few topics that are still taboo in Korea. And the whole world tbh

OTP: SLOW BURN. Super slow lol For a moment there, I thought they weren’t going to be endgame, but they were and I WAS THE HAPPIEST.

Thing I enjoyed the most: Park Saeroyi and Yiseo. And the acting from the whole cast, actually. They did a really good job.

Do I recommend it? Yes. My brother hadn’t seen a kdrama in years and he saw this one. He enjoyed it greatly. I don’t know why I say this as if my brother were some kind of point of reference or expert in kdramas, but y’all need to trust me when I say this is impressive hahaha.

Into the Ring: This woman only wanted a job that could give her stability and a good pay check because her family was in huge debt. She ended up becoming a district representative that learned the real hard way a good person cannot live peacefully among politicians. She got the hell out of there in the end, thank God. Sera was a great heroine that really deserves to be called that. Loved her so much.

OTP: A super cute one that defied gender stereotypes in a delightful way. He was HER secretary at one point!

Thing I enjoyed the most: Listen, everything. It was really well done. I binged it in 2 weekends. I regret not doing a final review about it, but I just couldn’t find the time and if I do one now, it’s not gonna make the drama justice because I’m sure I’ll miss details. I did make 2 big posts about the sismance and romance.

Do I recommend it? YEP. Go see it now lol

Do you like Brahms?: Most people complained about the leads being way too depressed and miserable in the last third of the drama. I didn’t mind that, because you see, it’s what you’d expect from a melodrama lol What did leave this drama out of my favorites is the reason why they were so miserable in the first place and the 2 never actually had a long and meaningful conversation about their problems as individuals and about their relationship and it was SO needed. It was literally their thing at the start of the drama: the way they could be open with each other and communicate so damn well. But that was nowhere to be seen in the end. Still, they had a happy ending and after all that suffering, I appreciated that. I made posts about each ep. Here is the post about the last one.

OTP: Two introverts that kissed on a music room for the first time AND made out on a piano. ON THE PIANO, Y’ALL!! *fans self*

Thing I enjoyed the most: The leads. The only TWO decent people (and friends), everyone else was an awful person. Oh, and the team leader. Such a great lady!

Do I recommend it? OMG Yes? It’s hard to say it but I try to judge the drama overall and how in love I was for the most part rather than how much it frustrated me in the last few eps. If you want to watch a melo with classical music that instead of healing makes you sadder, a love hexagon that makes you want to kill secondary characters and an OTP that gets their HEA despite all that, this is your drama.

Live On: This is a last minute addition, but given the fact that it will air the last ep on the first week of 2021, it kinda technically counts as this year’s. And I do love it. A mini drama about high schoolers. Here’s my post about the first ep and about the most recent one (with spoilers) It’s just a really well done, romantic, cute and fun with touch of mystery, coming of age story.

OTP: The most popular girl in high school and the smart president of the broadcasting club. Started as strangers, then went on to disliking each other, became friends and then liked each other. Also, ML is quite straightforward and flirtily honest lol

Thing I enjoyed the most: How short it is and the pace of the story. The main couple and the way the mystery was written, not a lot so it’d make the whole drama just about that, but enough to make an interesting backstory that sets FL on her journey and in the process, brings the six main characters together.TW: the whole mystery revolves around bullying.

Do I recommend it? If you like high school romances, YES. It’s only 8 eps long! You can binge it on a saturday or a sunday and I assure you it won’t be a waste of time. Kinda wish I could erase it all from my mind so that I could experience the whole story right away. I envy those who can binge it.

#kdrama #the king: eternal monarch #my holo love #find me in your memory #more than friends #tale of the nine tailed #kdrama review #itaewon class #do you like brahms?#into the ring #live on #tkem #fmiym #end of the year drama review

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emotionally-imbruised · 5 years

Text

Santa Tell Me

“Don’t make me fall in love again if he won’t be here next year.” ❆

A/N: Oh wow, she actually wrote something. Who is she? HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE.

Word Count: 7k

A cool breeze drifted across the room, causing goosebumps to rise on Y/N’s exposed skin as she instinctively cuddled up against the warm body lying next to her. She tried to fall back asleep, but unfortunately, her thoughts refused such a luxury as she began thinking of how this really was the last place she should be.

She didn’t mean to spend the night, but after a few glasses of wine and a deep conversation instead of paying attention to the Christmas movie that played in the background, she was a bit more welcoming to the way Harry’s hand rested on her thigh; rubbing soft circles with his thumb before eventually leaning in to catch her lips with his. And she let him! God, why did she let him?

Y/N’s relationship with Harry was complicated, to say the least. The two of them have been friends for quite some time, however, things became a little difficult roughly a year and a half ago when they began sleeping with each other.

It started off casual, there were no strings attached whatsoever. The two of them were just good friends and single. One fateful night when she and Harry had gone out, he ended up at her apartment, with minimal clothing, and the rest was history. Well, kind of.

She wasn’t expecting to sleep with him for a second time after that… or a third… and most definitely not a fourth; but the universe has a funny way of working sometimes and soon enough, hers and Harry’s little arrangement became a rather common occurrence.

It was great, for a while. Although the two of them were quite literally just fuck-buddies, neither of them tried to really change the situation because they were both content with it. There was no labeling of what their relationship had become. They were both exclusively sleeping with one another, their friends were somewhat aware of what was going on but tended to stay out of it, and it just worked.

But then Y/N caught feelings.

She hated how easy it was to fall for Harry back then with his stupid smile and magnetic personality, but it was just so hard to avoid. Especially seeing how being intimate with him seemingly brought out the significant feelings she felt towards him, regardless of how hard she tried to keep them hidden. But the thing was, it was almost as if Harry had caught feelings as well.

He was the one to address what happened after the first time the two of them slept together, even going as far as to blatantly say that he wouldn’t mind if it happened again. It was also him that hinted at Y/N being the only person he was seeing. He was still the kind, funny, sweet Harry that she knew and loved dearly as a friend; but this brought a whole new meaning to their relationship and they weren’t aware of how complicated things were bound to get.

Last Christmas was when everything started to fall apart. Y/N fell so hard for him and based on his very affectionate actions towards her, even when they weren’t just shagging, gave her the impression that he might’ve felt the same way. But for whatever reason, they were both too chicken to admit that they wanted more.

She had finally mustered up the courage to tell Harry that she loved him; but on Christmas Eve when she planned on actually telling him this, she never got the chance to do so.

He stood her up, to put it simply. The two of them had plans to go to a Christmas market together and while they were out, Y/N decided that she was going to tell Harry how she felt. She was pretty sure he knew about her feelings too and that made it even more nerve-wracking. However, after she arrived and waited for him for over half an hour without a text to say where he was, she went home and didn’t hear from him again.

The following day, all Y/N received was the obligatory Merry Christmas texts friends send to one another. Harry didn’t explain why he didn’t show, didn’t give any indication that he wanted to see her again over the holiday season, and she was too hurt to ask why. So, she let it be.

Then he jetted off to Japan and soon was caught up in the whirlwind of what it meant to be a celebrity. Which was fine. As his friend, she still rooted for him in everything he did, despite how stupid she felt for falling for one of her best friends.

The year came and went fairly quickly, and it was a rather significant one for Harry. Having co-hosted the met gala and putting the final touches on and beginning promo for his second album, it was no wonder he was so busy all of the time. Y/N was busy too, having immersed herself into work while trying to pan out what her future entailed and where she would end up.

Throughout the year, both Y/N and Harry remained in touch, which they were both extremely thankful for because of how they were such good friends, to begin with. What happened last year at Christmas was never addressed, and was kind of just dropped. Almost as if it didn’t happen. But then one night when Harry was back in London a few months ago, all of that changed.

She hooked up with him… again… and it soon began somewhat of a regular occurrence all over again. But this time she was careful. Y/N didn’t want to get hurt like last year because those feelings she had never really gone away, so she was a bit more hesitant on how often the two of them would shag.

Instead, she focused on hanging out and catching up with her friend because she really missed him this year with how busy he was; and luckily for her, Harry was seemingly ok with that.

However, that didn’t mean there wasn’t the odd slip up where one of them ended up in the others bed every once in a while... Kind of like what happened last night.

Harry was still dead asleep beside her, and Y/N’s want to just dip and never speak of this again was very prominent. There were only a few days left until Christmas and she needed to go into work that afternoon to finish up some last-minute things before she was off for the holidays, but leaving the nice warmth of Harry’s bed was proving to be rather difficult.

After a moment of consideration, she decided that she should use this time to escape. It would mean avoiding Harry, but she was pretty ok with that because no, she didn’t want to talk about what happened and as of late, it seemed like Harry has.

Letting out a sigh, she untangled herself from the sleepy hold Harry had around her waist and got out of the bed. She bit down on her lip as she took in the clothes skewed around the room before making a dash for the en-suite. If she showered at Harry’s, all she would have to do is run home and change before going into work. It was bound to save her some time, so she decided on that and stealing some over Harry’s oversized clothing instead of putting the previous night's outfit back on.

When Y/N took a look at herself in the large mirror above the vanity, a disgusted noise left her mouth. She looked rough, and the want to shower grew even more.

She quickly moved to the small cabinet and grabbed one of the large fluffy towels that resides within it so that she could wrap it around herself before brushing her teeth.

Yes, she had her own toothbrush at Harry’s. He had one at her flat too. It was something the two of them started years ago and just never weaned itself out. Whenever one bought a new toothbrush, they’d buy the other one too and put it in its respective place for them to use the next time they were over.

As Y/N ran some warm water over the brush before putting some toothpaste on it, she didn’t notice the presence of another being sneaking up behind her until she looked back at the mirror and locked eye contact with them.

“Holy shit!” She jumped, almost dropping her toothbrush in the process. “What the hell, Harry?”

“G’morning to you too,” he responded, sleep still lacing his voice as he walked up to the vanity to stand next to her.

He didn’t say anything else, just reached for his toothbrush and began brushing his teeth as if nothing happened. The two stood next to each awkwardly, each glancing at the other every once in a while and Y/N hated it. It was as though there was this huge elephant in the room separating them even though there was really only a couple of inches between them. So, as she finished rinsing off her toothbrush and waited for Harry to do the same, she slowly began stepping away from the vanity.

“I uh, I’m just going to take a shower if that’s alright? Then I’ll be out of your hair.”

He nodded in understanding before glancing I’m towards the door and biting down on his lip as if contemplating what he was going to say next. “You know you don’t have to leave, right?”

“What? Er- I, well.” His response caught her completely off guard and she wasn’t too sure how to respond. After a brief moment, she was able to recollect herself. “No, I do. I uhm, I have to go into work to finish up a few things before we’re closed for the holidays. Just a quick shower and then I’ll be on my way.”

Harry knew what she was doing, knew that she was trying to not discuss what happened between them the night before and avoid him as much as possible as a way to do so. He thought of a way to approach it but settled on just messing with her a little bit instead.

“Ok, I need to shower too.”

Without another word, he walked over to the large glass shower and reached in to turn the water on.

It didn’t take long for the warmth of the running water to create a steam-filled room and once Harry was done gathering a towel for himself, he finally made eye contact with Y/N from where she was standing in front of the mirror gawking at him in the reflection. A small chuckle escaped his mouth before he started removing the track pants he wore, all while not looking away; as if silently taunting her.

“I know what you’re doing and it’s not going to work,” she stated as she spun around to face him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, love,” he replied innocently as he wrapped the towel around his waist before ridding himself of his boxers and stepping towards her.

“You’re trying to get me to shower with you.”

“M’trying to save on my hydro bill this month actually, but that doesn’t sound too bad either.”

She couldn’t think of a way to respond as he finally reached her, and gently linked their hands together. Harry was well aware that if he were to lead, she would follow. It worked both ways with them, seeing as he knew damn well of the lengths he would go for her... but it wasn’t the time to discuss that yet. He just wanted to be with her for a little while longer, so when he started walking towards the shower with her in tow, he decided that he’d use his time very wisely.

Once their towels were removed and they were under the warm running water of the shower, very few words were spoken between the two. Y/N wasted no time in being the first to wet her hair and start washing it, eventually switching places with Harry so that he could do the same.

Both would have been lying if they said there wasn’t an intense amount of sexual tension as their bodies brushed against each other with each movement, which Y/N tried greatly to ignore. She needed to get clean and leave; already feeling stupid enough to fall for his antics and join him in the shower at all but also very much so not wanting to change anything about her current predicament.

As she finished rinsing the conditioner from her hair and went to step out from under the water, her back came in contact with a sturdy force that she knew could be nothing other than Harry. Immediately, she turned around to face him. With the way he looked down at her, eyes sleepy and seductive, she knew that him standing that close was intentional, but still couldn’t help the tiny yelp that left her mouth as he leaned down to crash his lips against hers.

Her back soon came in contact with the cool tile wall the shower head was mounted on. That in contrast with the warm water that still poured on her and Harry, along with the firm grip he had on her waist, was all rather exhilarating. It didn’t take long for her to melt into the kiss, opening her mouth to allow him further access and tangling her hands into his hair.

Y/N smiled when he moaned against her mouth as a result of her tugging slightly on his dampened curls, feeling proud of herself for being able to get him as worked up as he manages to get her. His hands then began roaming, spending some time massaging each of her breasts before leaving a tingling trail of sparks as he moved them down to where she was throbbing to feel him.

“Harry-,” she gasped before he could do anything else, causing him to freeze. He leaned against her slightly and she felt his length against her. Felt just how hard he was with anticipation and although part of her wanted to reach down and help with that, her mind screamed at her not to as thoughts of what occurred a year ago started flooding her mind again. “Fuck, what are we doing?”

“M’not sure I know what you mean,” he mumbled before leaning down to latch his mouth and that sweet spot in the crook of her neck he knew would have her seeing stars. His hand then reached down to where she was basically dripping for him and rubbed a harsh circle on her oh-so-sensitive bud with his middle and ring fingers. Her knees buckled as she gripped onto him even more, and he made no effort to hide the smug grin he wore as he moved back to get a better look at her. “Seems like you’re enjoying whatever it is we’re doing.”

“I- I am,” she stuttered as his fingers continued their work and another gasp left her mouth just as his lips met hers hungrily.

“Then what’s the problem?”

She moaned against his mouth and felt herself fading into his touch again, loving him and how he made her feel. Then her eyes widened in panic as she realized what she just internally admitted to herself and began pushing him away.

“No, no. We can’t keep doing this,” she stated as she created enough space between the two of them so that she could worm herself around him and exit the shower.

“Y/N, wait,” he followed after her, only to be met with a towel coming in contact with his face after she chucked it in his direction.

“No, Harry! Last night shouldn’t have happened and neither should have the times before… I can’t keep being with you like this, not after what happened last year. I refuse.” Her voice cracked slightly at the last part of her statement as she worked on wrapping herself up in a towel again before turning to face him; eyes widening as she took in his still naked form. “For fuck's sake, please put on the towel would you?”

He fumbled with the item while reaching into the shower and shutting off the water before finally wrapping it around his waist, and stepping towards her. “Ok, ok. I, fuck, I don’t even know where to start Y/N. Please just stay and we can talk about this. All of it. We can talk about us…”

“There is no us, H,” she replied and Harry was sure he saw tears threatening to form in her eyes as she looked at him. “You ruined that last year when you just up and left without an explanation.”

“If you’d let me explain, I would be more than happy to,” he argued; becoming frustrated with how stubborn she was being.

“No, I have to go. I need to borrow some clothes to wear to my place so I can put something on for work. I’ll get them back to you somehow.”

“But-,” he wanted to try and reason with her but there was no point because in the next moment, she was rushing out of the bathroom and Harry knew better than to go after her.

Walking into the office, Y/N tried to avoid eye contact with her co-workers. It’s not that she didn’t get along with any of them, but her hair was still damp from the shower she just had and she very much so looked like she was coming from a place she shouldn’t have been.

She was overly frustrated with herself for staying at Harry’s longer than planned because, on top of everything that just happened between the two of them, she now had the attention of everyone in the office as she shamefully made a beeline for her desk. As much as she hated the thought, she knew she’d get grilled sooner rather than later.

“You look rough,” stated Candace, a fellow journalist and by far the best friend Y/N had made since starting work in that particular office.

“I really don’t want to talk about it C,” Y/N replied as she took off her jacket and sat at the desk next to her friend. “I’ve had a shitty morning.”

“I can tell,” she responded with a chuckle before spinning around and grabbing a still warm Starbucks cup from the tray located next to her. “You weren’t responding to my texts so I figured something was going on. Thought you could use a little pick-me-up.”

Y/N let out a thankful sigh of relief as took the cup from Candace’s hand and took a big gulp. “God, you’re a lifesaver.”

“I do what I can,” she chuckled and shook her head. “Boss woman is letting us go home early today once we’re done our piece for next week's column, but I just really want to know where it is you’re coming from and why you’re so salty because of it.”

“What makes you think I’m coming from anywhere in particular and that I didn’t just sleep in?”

“Well you are pretty much drowning in that hoodie you’re wearing, so I know it’s not yours,” she stated, causing Y/N to look down at her outfit and take in her pair of ripped jeans and Harry’s sweater she stole on her way out of his flat. “Is it a boy’s? Oh, it definitely is. You gotta spill.”

“I, well, this is Harry’s.”

“Like Harry Styles… as in your famous best friend,” Candace asked for clarification, a frown forming on her mouth when Y/N nodded. “Well damn, I thought I was going to get some juicy details about a guy you were sleeping with.”

Y/N stayed silent and shifted awkwardly in her seat.

“Wait… YOU’RE SLEEPING WITH HIM AGAIN?”

“Would you calm down!?”

“No, I can’t,” Candace replied and leaned closer so no one else would hear her losing her mind. “How? When did this happen?”

“It’s been off and on for a few months now,” Y/N explained with a shrug. “I’ve been wanting to just stop altogether because of what happened last year, but I don’t know.”

“You still like being with him, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. Pretty pathetic, right?”

“Not pathetic,” she stated. “Surprising, yes. I thought you didn’t want anything to do with him that wasn’t completely platonic after what happened last year.”

“I didn’t,” Y/N told her honestly. “But he sucked me right back in and I ended up falling harder than I did before.”

“Oh, to be in your shoes.”

“Shut up, I’m having an internal crisis over this whole thing.”

“I mean, you could always just tell him how you feel,” Candace told her with a wink. “Seems like a pretty easy solution to me.”

“Except it’s not.”

“Why is that?”

“Because what if he doesn’t feel the same and I just make a fool out of myself… again.”

Candace was about to respond to that but didn’t get the chance to when Y/N’s phone dinged with a new notification from her jacket pocket, causing them both to look in the direction the noise came from. “That’s him, isn’t it?”

“Even if it is, I’m not going to answer.”

“Quit being dramatic,” Candace scoffed and stood up from her chair. “I’m going to get some water and then we’re going to finish this article so we can get the hell out of here. Just respond to the man.”

Y/N knew she was being dramatic and although she was very hesitant in doing so, she reluctantly pulled her phone out to look at it.

Harry

Y/N, we‘re going to have to talk about this eventually.

Y/N

Doesn’t have to be any time soon.

Harry

I’d prefer if it was.

She stared at her phone for a second, debating on a response but didn’t bother writing anything as the typing bubble appeared on Harry’s side of the screen once again.

Harry

I owe you a trip to the Christmas market since we didn’t go together last year. Meet me there tomorrow night and we can talk?

Y/N

Are you actually going to show up this time?

Harry

Yes, I promise. Meet me there for say, 9pm?

Y/N

Ok.

Harry

Great. See you then. x

Y/N audibly sighed as she set her phone on her desk, but that soon turned into an internal groan when she heard a familiar voice call her name and looked up to see the literal last person she wanted to see walking towards her.

Connor was nice… enough. He was one of the I.T guys that helped around the office with any technical difficulties there may be, and also just so happened to be someone Y/N kind of, almost, hooked up with earlier in the year. It was a one-time thing. After continuously turning him down as a result of her relationship-ish type thing with Harry, he kept asking her out up until early spring when she finally agreed. They went for dinner, she had a mediocre time, then they made out before she denied his invitation to go back to his place and went home instead. The rest was history.

However, Connor didn’t see it that way.

She would continuously turn him down, but he kept coming on to her after that. Y/N was aware that she had not properly shut him down but just would come up with excuses as to why she was too busy and couldn’t go out with him instead, and hadn’t really got the chance to either. She didn’t want to tell him she wasn’t interested at work in front of everyone else, and she also didn’t want to tell him over text because both situations seemed pretty shitty. So, she kept on with the excuses.

“Uh, hey Connor!” She greeted with somewhat of a smile as he walked up to her desk and leaned against it.

“How’s it going?”

“Pretty good. Going to try to get my work done fast so I can get out of here ASAP. How about you? Any plans for the holidays?”

“Not really,” he explained. “I’ll go see my family on the 25th but that’s about it. Hey, listen, do you have any plans for tomorrow evening?”

And there it was. But at least this time, she didn’t need an excuse for turning him down.

“I do actually,” she told him. “I’m meeting a friend at the Christmas market.”

“I see,” he replied disappointedly.

Just tell him you’re not interested already, Y/N internally screamed at herself, but still couldn’t figure out a way to actually to just flat out tell him that; until she was struck with an idea.

“You know what,” she started. “Why don’t we meet up beforehand? There’s a little pub down the street from the market, we can meet there at around 8:30pm to grab a drink and… talk.”

“Yes!” He exclaimed, causing Y/N to jump as he pushed away from her desk and started walking away. “It’s a date, I’ll text you.”

“Wait no, it’s not a-,” she called after him, but there was no point as he rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight. “...date.”

“Oh, now you’ve messed up,” Candace’s voice sounded from behind Y/N as she walked back to her desk.

“No, I’m going to meet him for a quick drink and then let him down easy. Simple as that.”

“You sound pretty confident for someone who hates confrontation,” Candace scoffed. “Need I remind you how you’ve been avoiding talking to Harry for this exact reason.”

“Ok, no need to call me out like that,” Y/N whined and leaned back against her chair dramatically. “It’s going to be fine… I hope.”

“You and me both cause I’m sick of hearing about your dating struggles when I can’t even get a text back.”

“You want them? Take them. I’m over these struggles more than you are.”

“Whatever,” she chuckled. “Let’s finish this article and get the hell out of here so you can go home and prepare for the shitshow of a night you’re going to have tomorrow.”

“Thanks for the optimism, C. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The pub was busy for a Tuesday evening, much to Y/N’s dismay. It really shouldn’t have surprised her though seeing as it was Christmas Eve.

Not everyone goes home for the holidays, hell she was a prime example of that with how she didn’t have plans to go see her family until Christmas was over. Also, some people just don’t enjoy the time of year… which was fair. But Y/N still couldn’t help but wish she didn’t have to aggressively use her elbows just so she to get to the bar and order a drink, all while hoping no one would take her table once she stood up to do so.

Connor was late showing up, and she extremely annoyed over it. She was about to leave when she glanced down at her phone to see it was almost 9pm, but then she got a message from him saying he’d be there shortly and decided to wait. Her phone battery was dangerously low, so she sent a quick text to Harry saying she’d be a few minutes late and apologized before the device died completely and she had to sit in boredom until Connor showed up.

She wasn’t sure how much time passed when U + Ur Hand by P!nk started blaring through the speakers of the pub, mindlessly tapping her fingers along to the intro beat of the song until a group of obnoxiously loud men bursted through the front door. There were four of them, and Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes as they began yelling over each other, but then she noticed that Connor was amongst them.

He locked eye contact with her almost instantly, and soon he and his friends were on their way to her table.

“There she is,” Connor greeted as they approached, immediately wrapping his arm around Y/N’s waist and pulling her closer to him.

“Uh, hey,” she replied awkwardly while lowkey pushing him away, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable.

He then looked to his friends, nodding towards one that was giving him a pointed glance before shrugging and climbing up onto the stool next to Y/N. He unwelcomely rested his hand on her thigh, and she was quick in moving away from him again; easily smelling the alcohol that wafted off him and his friends. “Guys, this is Y/N. She’s the one I told you about.”

“She’s hotter than you described,” one of the guys slurred, causing Y/N’s face to scrunch repulsively.

“Yeah, you sure you don’t want to share?” Another said, and Y/N never felt more disgusted in her life.

“Woah, unnecessary comments guys,” she spoke up, becoming rather fed up with how they were acting.

“Yeah guys,” Connor scoffed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “She’s mine, back off.”

“Connor, m’not-,” she started and turned to look at him as she said this, but was suddenly cut off by his lips crushing against hers. Her eyes widened in alert as she quickly pushed him away and stood up from her seat. “Ok, you know what, I’m gonna go. I wanted to talk to you about something but it looks like I’ll just have to tell you at work when you’re not drunk.”

“Oh come on, don’t be like that,” he replied conceitedly as Y/N started putting on her jacket. “Quit playing hard to get.”

“Hard to get?” She looked at him as if he grew a second head. “What the hell makes you think I’m playing hard to get?”

“Well, it’s pretty obvious, Y/N. Why else would you make up such bullshit excuses to not go out with me after we hooked up a few months ago.”

“First off, we didn’t hook up. We kissed. Second, did it not occur to you that maybe I’m not interested because you’re an arrogant asshole?”

Connor’s friends ooh’d and began mumbling to one another as he looked at her offendedly. “That’s not the only reason. You and I both know that.”

“Excuse me?”

“I heard you and Candace talking about how you’ve been sleeping with that famous friend of yours again,” he explained and Y/N immediately felt the need to defend herself. “Harry what’s-his-face. Thought that after he left you last year you’d get over the idea of thinking he’d want anything to do with you.”

He can’t be serious, she thought to herself as she tried to figure out what to say to that. She was absolutely furious and all his friends did was laugh, feeding her anger even more. As she racked her brain from something to reply with, the bridge of P!nk’s song began and Y/N glanced down at her still half-full glass of vodka cranberry, before picking it up and throwing the contents at Connor’s face.

“Fuck you. You don’t know anything about my relationships with others and are in no place to comment on them,” she stated firmly as she slung her bag over her shoulder. “At least Harry doesn’t treat me or anyone like they’re just part of a conquest in order to get a good shag. He’s a genuine being and is worthy of my time, it’s no wonder I’ve fallen for him as badly as I have. You, on the other hand, are the worst type of person and I really hate that it took me this long to realize it. Don’t bother speaking to me ever again, especially at work because I will cause a scene. Have a terrible night, you fucking jerks.”

And with that, she stormed out of the joint without looking back. Part of felt stupid for blowing up on Connor, but a bigger part kept thinking of how he deserved it.

Once she was out in the cool winter air, she let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and started walking down the street towards the market. She was still livid, but just the thought of being near Harry put her mind at ease a little bit.

As she walked through the market's entrance she saw that no one was taking tickets and it was much emptier than she was expecting. Owners of the stands scattered all around the area that sold food and Christmas trinkets had packed up and all seemed to be heading home.

“What?” Y/N mumbled to herself before approaching a lady who was busy counting money from a till. “Hi, excuse me. Do you know what time it is by chance?”

“It’s after 9:30pm, dear. The market is closed.”

Shit.

“Oh, ok, thank you.”

It felt like Y/N’s heart plummeted into the pit of her stomach as she thoughts about Harry probably thinking she stood him up entered her mind. She grew even more frustrated over what went down with Connor and how it made her so late, as well as the fact that she couldn’t even call Harry and apologize for not showing up.

Because the thing was, she decided that she wanted to. She spent the 24 hours leading up to the moment, hyping herself up and was ready to talk things over with Harry. She planned on admitting her feelings and expressing how what happened on Christmas Eve the year before really hurt her. Regardless of the outcome, she was ready to put herself out there for him, and then she felt like she lost that chance.

She was hopeful for a few moments, thinking that maybe Harry was still wandering around somewhere. But the further she walked into the market, the less populated it became, and that hope soon faded.

The lights were pretty at least. Y/N really enjoyed looking at them as she continued on her stroll through the area. There was an entire wall that was covered in twinkling lights, that continued upwards and hung over the cobblestone path she was walking down. That along with the light snow that was falling from the sky made feel warm and fuzzy inside as she took it all in; smiling to herself as she stopped to look up at the flakes coming down before continuing on.

Lastly, she came to a stop at the base of the huge Christmas tree that was located in the centre of the market. It seemed different from how it looked the year before with its lovely blue decorations, but she just couldn’t figure out how it differed as she was observing.

A Michael Bublé Christmas song played from a loudspeaker nearby as she continued staring at the tree and thought about how she waited in that exact spot for Harry a year prior. She felt rather silly thinking about it now, but she shrugged it off and decided that she should probably stop gawking at the tree just head home.

“I don’t like the ornaments they used this year,” a voice suddenly spoke up from behind her. “Sure, the blue is nice. But I liked the red ones they used last year much more.”

Caught off guard by the person standing behind her now, Y/N was hesitant on turning around to face them. But once she did, it felt like the wind was knocked right out of her.

“Harry?”

“Didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily, did yeh?” He asked with a large grin.

“Of course not,” she responded with just as big of a smile. “Listen, I’m so sorry for being late. I know you wanted to talk, and I did too but-.”

“Who said we still don’t have the chance to talk?” He questioned with a skeptical look. “I’ve got all the time in the world when it comes to you, darling.”

Y/N sighed, inwardly melting at his choice of words but also becoming completely overrun with nerves all of a sudden.

“I don’t even know where to start, H.”

“Then let me start,” he said and stepped towards her. “Leaving you last year was a huge mistake on my part. I knew how you felt and had come to terms with how I felt as well, but then when I got here and saw you standing under the tree like you are now, I chickened out.”

“Wait, what?” She asked surprised. “You were here?”

“I was,” he nodded and pointed to a corner of a nearby building. “When I got here, I was already so late. There were still a lot of people around and I didn’t even think I’d find you. But then I saw you standing pretty much right where you are now. You were completely mesmerized by the tree, just taking it all in like you do every year. I remember you saying beforehand how much you loved the ornaments they used because of how pretty they were. They’re different this year.”

“So that’s what seemed off about the tree this year,” she replied and glanced back at it. “That was uhm, very observant of you. But if you came all this way, why didn’t you tell me you were here?”

“Like I said, I got scared,” he answered and immediately captured her attention again. “Seeing you was when it hit me. It was when I realized just how much I love you.”

Her breath hitched at his words, and she could feel a blush forming on her cheeks that most definitely wasn’t just from the cold air, but she played it off quickly as she stepped towards him and smacked his arm. “Why didn’t you say anything!?”

“I didn’t know how! I panicked…”

“What did you panic about if you knew I felt the same?”

“I was worried about what I’d put you through,” he explained with a sigh. “M’not an easy person to be in a relationship with Y/N. I’m either coming or going all the time, and as much as I’d love to just stay in one place; it’s very hard to do that sometimes. You have your whole life here and I thought I’d interfere with that.”

“You’re stupid sometimes, you know that? I wouldn’t have cared about that, Harry.” She told him while shaking his head. “How would we know things would or wouldn’t work out if we didn’t try?”

“That’s exactly what I thought after I left. I immediately regretted leaving you there, but I thought it’d be easier that way. I know you despise confrontation as much as I do, and it just seemed easier at the time. Once I was gone, I was terrified that you’d want nothing to do with me and hated the thought of losing you over me being a coward, but I didn’t lose you. You were always still there even after I did something so shitty, and honestly, it made those feels I had grow more intense.”

“But you still didn’t say anything.”

“When we first started… you know... seeing each other again at the end of summer, I wanted to,” he stated. “But I still couldn’t figure out how. After me just leaving you last year, I didn’t think you’d want anything more than what we were doing. I was just glad to be with you and was willing to take whatever I could get, and those feelings all came crashing back. Then yesterday when you were over, I thought maybe I’d finally admit how I felt then; but you left and I thought I lost my chance.”

“So then you wanted to tell me today?” She asked softly. “And I basically stood you up.”

“No, I didn’t think that at all,” he told her while brushing away a snowflake that landed on her cheek. “When you texted me saying you were running late, I still waited around. But then it was getting chilly so I walked down the street to a little pub so I could warm up a bit. You were there.”

“Wait, so you saw…”

“And heard everything,” he nodded. “I don’t need to hear about that other guy cause thinking of how he treated you back there will piss me off. I was about to step in to be completely honest, but I should’ve known you could handle yourself.”

“Gee thanks,” she chuckled and shook her head. “But that also means you heard me say-.”

“That you’ve fallen for me? Yeah, I liked hearing that part. Made me less nervous about my want to do this.”

Without another word, he leaned down to place the most delicate kiss on her lips. There was no hungry lust behind it like there had been when they had kissed before, just pure admiration and affection; Y/N melted into it right away.

She pouted a little bit when he moved away, but then he pulled her into a tight embrace and instantly felt better. The two of them stood there for a moment, just basking in each other’s presence; her cuddling into his chest and him resting his head on top of hers as they swayed to the music that still played. It was a quiet song, the ending instrumentals of it played before the upbeat intro of the Jonas Brothers’ Like It’s Christmas started playing and Harry started chuckling.

“What’s so funny?” Y/N asked as she pulled away slightly to look up at him.

“Nothing,” he smirked and leaned down to give her another peck. “It’s just that you really do make every day feel like it’s Christmas.”

“You’re so sappy.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.”

“I guess I do,” she told him honestly as he linked his hand with hers and started leading her away from the tree. “Where are we going?”

“Home. Want to spend this Christmas with yeh.”

“I like the sound of that,” she replied while cuddling up against him as they began their trek home.

The two of them made it back to Harry’s flat and neither of them could stop smiling. They just loved the feeling of finally being together properly and although Y/N was set on not falling in love during Christmas again, this time around she wasn’t worried about him not being there the following year, or all the ones after that too.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles preferences #1dff #harry styles x y/n

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kyber-crystal · 4 years

Text

catch me under the mistletoe || s.r

summary: in which a certain bond is tightened during the magical holiday season

words: ~3.6k

warnings: none. some language i think,,, and rly shitty writing bc i wrote this over a year or so ago

a/n: we’re still days away from christmas lmao, but who cares

“MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE EVE, LOSERS!” Bucky yelled out.

“MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE EVE!” Thor boomed in reply, slamming his hand against a baking sheet.

“Shut the hell up!’ you hissed as you shuffled into the kitchen, a cranky look on your face. You grabbed the nearest pillow to you from the couch and chucked it at Bucky’s head. He winced and immediately stopped what he was doing.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“For waking me up at nine-thirty in the morning on a Saturday, asshole,” you muttered, reaching over to pour yourself a cup of tea. “Do you ever shut up?’

“9:30 isn’t even that early. You’re just lazy,” he argued. “And why am I getting all the hate? Thor was in on this too?”

“Because Thor is a compassionate and kind being,” you explained, as the Norse god gave you an apologetic smile.

“Merry Christmas Eve Eve, Lady Y/N,” he greeted politely. “I presume you slept well?”

“Yes, until Bucky started making noise…”

“I’m sorry!” Bucky exclaimed. “I’ll buy you more Cadbury tomorrow, okay? Is that enough?”

You nodded. “...Okay, fine.”

Steve hobbled into the kitchen, dressed in his Captain America pj pants (Tony got them for him last year as a gift) and wearing fluffy slippers.

“Morning,” he yawned as he ran a hand through his hair to tame it, quickly kissing your forehead before sitting down in between you and Natasha. “How’d you guys sleep?”

“Got a solid six hours. Better than last week’s combined total of three, so I’d say not bad,” you replied. “You?”

“Managed to squeeze in five. So, anything new happen lately?”

“No, asides from the fact that the holidays are near and you two are acting like a couple,” Natasha rolled her eyes. You and Steve both averted your gazes and looked down. “Anyway. When are we gonna start getting decorations up?”

“After we finish eating, I guess,” Sam shrugged as he poured cereal into his bowl. “Ooh yes. I got more charms this time. Fuck the grains, Lucky Charms ain’t lucky if you got more grains than charms.”

“Shuri and T’Challa will be coming in approximately two hours. I advise you all get to work on decorating before they arrive,” FRIDAY’s voice came over the intercom.

Loki suddenly materialized in the middle of the lounge with a wide grin plastered on his face, as well as Pietro. “Did someone say decorate?”

“Have at it, brother, Sir Speedy,” Thor handed the several boxes of decorations over to him. “But please, don’t do anything stupid.”

...

You were all amazed and shell-shocked when a mere fifteen minutes later, the entire compound looked like a winter wonderland. The giant tree standing strong in the corner of the lounge was decorated from bottom to top with various stunning ornaments, garlands, and twinkling LED lights.

Long story short, it seemed as if someone had punched Santa and made him throw up Christmas. Loki and Pietro nodded in approval at their work before exchanging a high-five.

“Can’t believe I’m saying this but,” Tony cleared his throat, “the jokesters really pulled it off this time. I’m proud of you both.”

The only thing left to do was hang the wreath up, and you decided to be the one to do so. You climbed up the ladder to hang up the wreath when you felt someone taser your sides.

"Steven Grant Rogers!" you screeched, glaring at him as you wobbled and tried to regain your balance. "I could've fallen off, you bastard!"

"Oops," he shrugged, giving you an innocent look. "That was a complete accident, I'm so sorry."

"You suck," you stuck your tongue out at him before hanging the wreath up on the wall.

"Told you the holidays were a magical season," Natasha whispered over to Wanda, and they both exchanged knowing looks. “Hey, Y/N, I still have some last-minute shopping to do. You willing to drive?”

“Sure, why not,” you shrugged. “But why can’t you take your own car?”

“I don’t feel like driving.”

“Alright,” you sighed, standing up and pushing your chair in. You leaned down to quickly kiss Steve’s cheek. “See you guys later.”

“Damn,” Sam wolf-whistled as you stepped into the elevator with her and Wanda, doors closing behind you. “She’s so oblivious.”

“To what?” Steve looked confused.

“Y’all are so in love. Don’t try and go on with that ‘we kiss each other all the time’ bullshit because that’s not what people who are ‘just friends’ do.”

“But it is what just friends do. Y/N and I...we’ve known each other for a while...”

“Bullshit. I ain’t buyin’ that.”

…

After you finished your last-minute shopping, you returned home with the gifts all wrapped up and ready to go and decided to whip up a batch of gingerbread cookies. The party was due to begin tomorrow evening, and you wanted a head start so you wouldn’t be cramming mere hours before.

Soon enough, the warm smell of cinnamon and other festive aromas drifted through the air.

"Mmm, is that gingerbread?" You turned around to find Steve sitting there, chin propped on his hand.

“Yeah. When I was little, I’d help my dad bake them because he’d often burn the cookies. As a SHIELD agent, he was always busy and didn’t have the time to improve his cooking skills.” You chuckled, and a nostalgic smile appeared on your face as you recalled the memory. “I started cooking at a young age...it really helped me prepare to be on my own. It kinda became a tradition of mine to keep baking even after he passed...feels like I still have a part of him with me when I do.”

The timer went off and you grabbed your oven mitts, pulling the cookies out of the oven and placing them on the counter. You put the second batch in and reset the timer.

"You smell like cookies," Steve commented, wrapping his arms around your waist.

Your cheeks turned bright pink from the physical contact. He didn't let go, and you let your arms slide up his back and stay there, as you stood in his tight embrace, breathing slowly and heart beating rapidly.

Tony broke it up by walking in and coughing loudly.

"Don't distract her, Rogers," he said, sitting on the couch with a slight smirk on his face.

The two of you pulled away from each other, looking away quickly to avoid further embarrassment.

"Speedy Gonzales, Parker, you better put those props away or no party or cookies for either of you," you scolded as Pietro and Peter were parading around the lounge.

"Darn. I look really attractive in this headband," Pietro whined.

"Yeah, it really brings out the color of your eyes," you said sarcastically.

"Thanks, Y/N," he imitated your tone of voice.

Shuri arrived soon enough, and immediately took to watching Vine compilations with Peter on the couch as they ate the few samples of the cookies you’d given them. The compound grew rather quiet, and you relished in the feeling of peace before someone could come along and screw it up again.

…

The next day quickly came and went. One by one, the rest of the guests began to arrive: Strange and Wong, the Guardians, Loki, even Fury and agents Coulson and Hill. How Tony managed to convince them to come, you had no idea.

You were dragged away by Natasha to get ready upon her insistence that you were forbidden on seeing Steve before the party. Despite your protests (”The fuck? This isn’t even a wedding? Why are you treating it like one?), she didn’t budge. Knowing her unmovable determination, you allowed her to dress you up and do your makeup.

“Wow, gold really is your color,” she propped a hand on her hip as she spun you around so you could look at yourself.

“You’re a miracle worker, Romanoff,” you laughed. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’d be so lost.”

“That’s why we’re friends, isn’t it?” Natasha gave you a little wink. “Dress to impress, love, dress to impress.”

...

The Christmas party was now in full swing - it was just after dinner and everyone was walking around, laughing and drinking at the bar or just casually conversing with one another. You were bored of wandering around and had already talked to pretty much everyone in the room, so you decided to look around for Clint and T’Challa because you didn't know what else to do.

"Hey, mind if I join you?" you asked, holding your simple glass of ginger ale (You hated alcohol). "Stark ditched me because he's busy working the music."

"Sure," T’Challa nodded, motioning to the empty seat beside him, and you slid into the booth. "How's it going for you so far, Miss Y/L/N?"

“Just Y/N is fine,” you laughed, setting your drink down on the table, “I’m doing alright. What about you? I forgot to ask how the flight here was.”

“We were able to get a couple hours of rest on the way here, so I’d say it was a nice flight.”

“That’s good,” you nodded.

“Kinda off topic, but hey, why aren’t you talking to Capsicle? He was looking for you earlier,” Clint spoke up. “Go talk to him.”

“Clint…”

“Come on! Just talk to him. It’s not like you’re some teenage fangirl terrified out of your mind to even look in his direction.”

“Fine,” you huffed, standing up. “See you guys later?”

“See you,” the two men said in unison as you walked away.

Your eyes scanned the room for Steve’s familiar broad-shouldered figure. They finally land on him, standing in the corner with a crystalline champagne glass in his hand, standing next to Bucky with a faint smile on his face.

You take one look at him and you swear your heart stops. He was literally the human form of perfection. The black suit he wore only further accentuated his lean, athletic build, with chiseled features and a sharp jawline that had to be sculpted by the gods themselves. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of him. The collar of his shirt is rolled down slightly, holy crap- and his eyes- they seemed to be shining even more brightly tonight, if that was even possible. They made you swoon, and you never swooned. The effect this man had on you…

As soon as he met your gaze, he couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across his face. His eyes immediately brightened at the sight of you standing there in your shimmery, gold gown, his heartbeat picking up speed.

He gave you a quick once-over before looking straight back into your eyes. “Hey, doll. You look...amazing.”

“Thanks,” you chuckled lightly, feeling your face flush, “you look great, too, Captain.”

Bucky cleared his throat. “So you’re not gonna make a comment on my appearance, huh Y/N?”

“Oh! Sorry,” you apologized, “Bucky! You look so...different!”

“Decided to go back to that old 40’s look. Tony insisted on it and I caved, so here we are,” he explained, gesturing to his clean-shaven face. “What do you think?”

“You look great,” you beamed.

“Romanoff pick out your dress?” You nodded, and he made a little ‘ah’ in realization. “She has good taste.”

“I know. I never would’ve found this on my own. Hope Tony doesn’t mind losing 2 grand from his credit card.”

“He won’t. Uh, anyways...I’m gonna go join Clint over there for our pool rematch. We have at least fifty bucks on the line now that Strange and Quill are joining in,” he motioned behind him to show Dr. Strange and Peter Quill arguing over how much money should be put in. “Catch you guys later?”

“Sure,” you nodded. “See you later.”

You turned back to Steve to see his baby blue eyes still boring into you. Normally you’d feel like shrinking away underneath his gaze but instead, you hold your head high and maintain the friendly smile on your face.

“So, how’s the party been going for you so far?”

“Other than Tony ditching me to DJ, I’m great,” you laughed, “and you?”

“Parties aren’t really my style, but I decided, why not just let loose for tonight?” he replied, “It’s Christmas. There’s no need to be in a foul mood.”

“I mean, you can’t possibly stay grumpy when you’re watching Peter and Shuri battle it out on the dance floor.” He glanced in the direction you were looking at to see in fact, Peter and Shuri, holding a dance-off as several people cheered them on.

“Staying on that topic…” he paused for a moment before speaking, holding his hand out to you, “may I have this dance?”

“Of course, Captain,” you give him a goofy grin as you took his hand and he leads you to the dance floor. Once the two of you arrive at the center, the crowd immediately parts to make room and the music immediately switches from a fast-paced pop tune to something much slower.

Steve doesn’t hesitate to pull you into his arms, pressing you close to his body. Right away you’re hit with his fresh scent of berry aftershave and pine, and clean linen. You find yourself leaning into him as he gently places his hands on your waist and your arms loosely wrap around his neck, swaying gently to the beat of the music.

“You’re pretty good, if I do say so myself,” you comment, sending him a flirty wink. He laughs in response, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he does so.

“You’re not so bad at this, either,” he grins, the intensity of his gaze making your breath catch in your throat. He twirls you outward before bringing you back in, quickly catching you around the waist again. “You’re very light on your feet.”

You continued to dance and twirl around the floor, onlookers thinking to themselves that this most certainly wasn’t the first time you’d done something like this before. The lights overhead twinkled with each step you took as you spun around in delicate circles, the gold of your dress glittering brightly. With the feeling of Steve’s warm hand on your back and your feet gliding smoothly across the floor, it felt as if the only people in the world at that moment was just you and him, no one else. You’re too busy to realize everyone’s stopped what they were doing to watch you two. Like Cinderella and her Prince Charming, Hercules and Megara, Beauty and the Beast - you had everyone believing you were a match made in heaven.

You’re not sure how long you stay wrapped up in each others’ arms for. Maybe it’s about half an hour later when the music switches again that you finally snap out of your trances.

“That was nice. Thank you,” you gave Steve a single nod. “I had fun.”

“Likewise, Y/N,” he looks you square in the eye as he gives you yet another million-dollar smile. Oh my god, his smile-

You make your way over together, his hand still on the small of your back, to where the rest of the OG Avengers were seated around the couches.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the lovebirds themselves,” Sam smirked as you sat down, Steve putting his arm around the couch right behind your head. “Saw your romantic little moment back there.”

You rolled your eyes. “Lovebirds, my ass.”

“Language,” Steve teased, nudging you in the side. You shot him a ‘look.’

“Well, you’ve been quite the eye-catcher tonight,” Natasha folded her hands in her lap, nodding in approval as she observed your appearance. “If I were Rogers, I’d take you out on a date right away. Or if I were a man in general, I’d just straight up marry you.”

“Nat, with the way we act around one another, some people think we’re already married.”

“Touche.”

“Ooh, damn,” Clint let out a low wolf-whistle, twirling his drumsticks around his fingers. “Sounds like someone’s hot property.”

“Shut it, Barton,” you gave him a death glare.

“Okay, anyone against Y/N and Cap being a couple, please raise your hand,” Pietro announced, and when nobody raised their hands, he pointed at you. “See! No one’s objecting. You’d make an amazing couple.”

"No."

"Yes."

"Why are you guys so determined?"

"This ship has to happen. It is not going to die. Not on my watch," Sam declared.

“What even is a ship-” Steve began, but was unable to finish his sentence as Maria Hill was approaching your group.

"Merry Christmas! So I've heard this is the new power couple," she said as she made her way over and sat down as well. "How's it going?"

“Ooh, another ship member!" Clint pumped his fist up in the air.

"Damn right," Sam gave Hill a thumbs-up.

"Of course I'm on board," she smiled. "I'm all for it."

You let out an exasperated sigh. "Seriously. What is it with you guys and shipping people together?"

"It's 'cause y'all cute," Sam wiggled his eyebrows up and down. "Y'all really gotta be cute like that. My heart can’t take it."

"Y/N," Steve noticed that you were looking uncomfortable and jerked his thumb behind the two of you, "want to go get some soda or something to eat?"

"Uh, yeah," you let out a sigh, brushing out your dress, "yeah. That'd be great."

"Don't have too much fun!" Tony called after you.

"Remember to stay safe and use protection, guys!" Clint cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted.

…

“Well, that was chaotic,” you breathed out as you took a sip of your champagne before setting it down on the counter. “I’m honestly not even surprised by the team, anymore...kinda got used to it.”

“Yeah, you grow immune to the jokes after a while,” he shrugged.

“You know…” you thought for a moment, a wistful yet sad smile appearing on your face as you looked out ahead, "Mom always got so excited around Christmas Eve. She wasn’t a huge alcohol lover, but made an exception for champagne. And hot chocolate. No matter how cold or warm it got during the month, she had one mug of it every day-"

You stopped for a moment to compose yourself again. "And Dad---he would make us sing along to every single Christmas track that came on the radio."

"Hey, are you alright?" Steve's brow furrowed in concern as he placed a hand on your forearm.

"I'm okay," you smiled sadly. "I just really miss them."

“I know. I miss my parents, too. My mother...she’d love you, you know. Ma always talked about having another daughter, but was unable to. Loved hot chocolate, like your mother…and never missed the chance to catch the sunrise or sunset, no matter the occasion.”

“She sounds like an amazing person,” you looked up at him.

“She was.”

You spent another hour or so talking together, feeling the tension lift from your shoulders with each passing minute. Talking to Steve came so naturally so often- that was why, when you couldn’t fall asleep at night, would go out to the balcony with him and talk until the sun rose. You just continued your conversation, until giggles and whispers interrupted your chatter.

"What do you want, guys," you rolled your eyes at the team, arms crossed and smirking at you and Steve. Shuri especially, had a rather evil grin on her face, and so did Clint, Bucky, and Sam.

"No...what they're trying to say is...uh..." Steve scratched the back of his neck and with an awkward chuckle, pointed to the mistletoe hanging above your heads.

"Mistletoe," you said softly, feeling your face heat up.

"Yeah," he spoke in a quiet voice, a light pink shade dusting his cheeks.

"Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!" the entire room began to chant.

"Rules are rules! You're not leaving until you two kiss!" Clint sing-songed.

The air around you had suddenly grown thick with anticipation and suspense as everyone fell silent, waiting for what was to come next, your heart beating so fast that it was making it difficult for you to catch a breath. Your gaze slipped down to his lips so he took this as a cue to let his arms slowly snake around your waist and you placed your hands on his shoulders, feeling as if everything was all going in slow motion.

Although the kiss didn't last very long, you made sure to take in every detail. His lips were so soft and warm, you could feel one of his hands on the small of your back as he pulled your closer, the other resting just below your shoulder blades, and you could feel the butterflies going wild in your stomach. Your heart was beating a million miles per hour, it seemed, and the sparks.

It could've been hours, or weeks, or even months until you finally broke apart but when you did, you were both grinning like fools and the team was trying their hardest to hold back their excited squeals.

"Merry Christmas," you whispered.

"Merry Christmas," he breathed out, before wrapping his arms around your waist again to bring you in a second time.

“Clint! Get up!” Sam lightly tapped the archer’s cheek. “Get up!”

“I think he’s dead.” Peter whispered.

“No, he just passed out from shock,” Shuri shrugged, but then gave him a high five. “Anyway, good job, Pete! You did a pretty amazing job of hanging that up there in time.”

#avengers imagines #steve rogers x reader #avengers x reader #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #marvel fic #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers fic #captain america fic #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine

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butididntpourthewhiskeys · 4 years

Text

L O V E B O U N D

“Christmasbound III”

I know many of you never thought this day would come, but I’m glad to be back with our three favorites. please be kind, as I drafted this within a day. I genuinely hope you’ll like it. merry christmas from the fam xx

“And if you’re ever tired of being known for who you know you know, you’ll always know me. Dorothea. Uh uh”

She keeps her eyes closed, feels the warm and soft material underneath her huge headphones that cover the entirety of her ears. Surrounded by blankets and curtains, hanging right from her opened closet, Taylor feels the same warmth she’s always felt when recording music. Under normal circumstances, this would’ve been in a professional setting. A recording studio with narrow walls and acoustic matts covering the walls.

This little home studio in her closet certainly doesn’t compare.

With her eyes still closed, Taylor moves her head with the beat of the music, mindlessly reaches for the headphones. She doesn’t have to open her eyes, doesn’t have to be able to hear the slightest noise beneath the music to know exactly that someone is making their way to her. It’s instinctive, it’s natural.

With the huge headphones now in her hands, Taylor stops the recording on her laptop that is placed on the little table on her right side and then slowly turns around. She smiles. Her five, almost six year old child is standing in the room. She’s barefoot. Her long Pajama pants covering her petite legs. Blonde and curly hair in all directions, obviously in need for a cuddle with her momma as she rubs her puffy eyes and walks straight towards her mom.

“Mornin’ honey.” Taylor just mumbles into the warm neck, a little laugh escaping her lips as she already feels Eleanor hugging her neck so tight. A tiny head is now placed on her shoulders. She sighs in her low voice, seems to be in her half asleep dreamland state. Taylor breathes her baby girl in, slowly rubs her small back up and down. This just never changes.

“How did you sleep?” Taylor asks her quietly, slowly pulls back to squish the tired and warm cheeks and presses a big kiss onto them a few times. Eleanor just stands there, obviously still tired.

“Good.” she says, her eyes on her momma’s big microphone in the midst of the bedroom. Taylor knows that this is as weird for Eleanor as it is for her. After all she’s never recorded an album from home. Eleanor knows that her mom writes songs on the piano or on the guitar sometimes, but this whole technical set- up is yet another thing that has become Eleanor’s new reality. This global pandemic really has brought many changes into the little girls life.

“What are you singing?” she says quietly, still looking up to the big round microphone on the stand where her mom is sitting.

“I’m recording this song I wrote, called Dorothea.”

Eleanor looks at Taylor with big eyes, the same big blue eyes she knows from someone else so well and nods slowly. Taylor laughs.

“Who is Dorothea?” she asks then and Taylor grins.

“That’s a good question. She’s a beautiful girl who’s moved away from the little old town she grew up in and became famous, and everyone knows her.”

The blonde signer can already see in the five year old’s face that this conversation won’t go anywhere. Eleanor nods distracted, as Taylor places the headphones on the table next to her and pulls Eleanor onto her lap.

“Breakfast?”

Eleanor nods. Taylor slowly gets up, the big girl on her arms while making her way out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Eleanor slowly cuddles herself once more into her arms and Taylor doesn’t complain. Currently, she absorbs every second of this clingy and cuddly phase that her daughter is going through. Taylor immediately has to think of the words of her pediatrician from the other week ago. This current global crisis is a big mystery for children. Everyone wears masks. No more playing with friends. No leaving the house anymore. How scary this must be for someone who doesn’t understand the world yet? Taylor knows that Eleanor has every reason to be clingy and needy of her mom during this time. And she enjoys this phase more than she ever thought she would. Back when Eleanor was a baby, she would sometimes dream about what it would be like to have a child who can play by herself, use the bathroom by herself, eat by herself. Now that her baby girl is in her last year of pre- school, Taylor realizes that time is just a construct and that every cuddle and every hug is only temporary. But it’s appreciated. So incredibly appreciated.

“Are you looking forward to your ladybug class today?” Taylor whispers into Eleanor’s ears and the little girl nods excitedly, just as Taylor places her on the marble counter right downstairs in the kitchen. Taylor grins, slowly opens the fridge.

“Today we have to bring our favorite teddy bear and I want to bring Benji.” Eleanor says excitedly, as Taylor just looks at her daughter and laughs.

“Don’t you think Miss Clarkson will know that he’s a real life cat and not a teddy bear?” Taylor says amusedly while pouring some oat milk into a little cup right on the stove. In her light blue pajamas, just like Eleanor’s, Taylor brings the milk to heat up and looks back at the curly head who’s already playing with the little miniature dolls she left on the counter last night.

“No because daddy always says Benji is a little bear!” Eleanor says laughing, seems to be more than excited about her clever idea. And if her dad says so, then it has to be right. Taylor grins at her baby girl while preparing her hot chocolate. She knows exactly how important Joe’s words are for the little girl. Eleanor is already focused on her little dolls again, seems to have almost forgotten that Taylor is in the room with her, and sings quietly while playing around.

“Here’s your hot chocolate.” Taylor says, pronouncing the last two words in an extra British way to make her daughter laugh. Eleanor takes the big cup with the kitties on the front right from her, and pulls out her tongue laughing. Taylor just laughs as well, both her hands on her head fixing the little curls.

"Mummy, it’s hot chocolate.” the five year old replies, automatically switched to her British accent, loves to correct her mum when it comes to pronouncing words the British way. Taylor will never be less impressed by the fact that her child is able to switch accents perfectly within the matter of five seconds. A perk of having multinational parents and growing up in two countries at the same time.

“My little British baby.” Taylor grins, then steals Eleanor’s forehead a kiss.

“Mommy, can we go to the park today with daddy?”

Taylor doesn’t say anything for a second, fixes Eleanor’s strand of hair before letting go off her. She stands right in front of the counter where Eleanor is sitting and slurping her hot cocoa. Taylor just quietly nods and Eleanor’s eyes seem to light up just within a few seconds.

“We have to speak to daddy anyways today and see what we’re gonna do for Christmas this year.”

“Mommy can we please celebrate with daddy and grandma?” Eleanor immediately says, places the mug next to her and starts pulling on her mom’s pajama shirt. Taylor knows this version of Eleanor too well. Whenever she really wants something she becomes all clingy and impatient. Taylor just sighs.

“Baby, we can’t celebrate all together because of covid. I explained that to you before.” Taylor says carefully, looks into Eleanor’s pouty face in the hope to find understanding.

“I promised you that you will see daddy and grandma for Christmas, we just... haven’t worked out a concrete plan yet.”

Eleanor doesn’t seem to understand what her mom just said, but she nods. The same pout as before. This quarantine situation is hard on Eleanor. Taylor knows that too well.

“Okay.” Eleanor just mouths quietly. Taylor smiles silently. Within a few seconds, her lips are meeting the tiny forehead again. Lips pressed against the soft skin, she kisses her daughter a few times, whispering a low “I love you” in between. Eleanor replies as lightly as always and Taylor helps her jump down from the counter. She quickly encounters Olivia and Benjamin who just made their way to the kitchen to greet the little girl that just got up. Taylor smiles at Eleanor and her quirky way of speaking with the cats. Just like siblings. It makes her laugh sometimes.

“Okay, Liv. You can play with me but you can’t steal my wedding dress again.” Eleanor says in all seriousness to Olivia as the two cats and the little girl disappear up the stairs. Taylor looks amusedly after them, slowly makes her way to the coffee machine and reaches for her phone that she left here this morning when she made herself coffee number one. With her favorite baby blue cup under the coffee machine, she presses the button and waits a few seconds. Her eyes wander onto her phone screen. Right on top of the background picture of Eleanor in the snow, Taylor reads the texts she missed from her friend Martha. Once Eleanor is with Joe, she definitely needs a class of wine and a good catch up session with her friends.

“Did you put on your warm socks?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Taylor yells back upstairs at her daughter, as she crunches down to grab the cat treats that are buried in the depths of her kitchen drawer. She immediately sees a very excited Benjamin come closer. Taylor grins at him.

“Of course you are the first one to be in line for treats huh.” she grins, immediately pets him on his head before feeding him.

Just when Taylor was about to close the drawer again, she can hear the doorbell ring. Within a matter of seconds, a very excited Eleanor storms downstairs. Taylor gets up, checks the little screen in the kitchen and feels her stomach churn. It’s always like that, every week when he stands in her front door. The black and white security camera still managing to point out his kind eyes, his voluminous hair, his effortlessness. He’s wearing his thick APC coat. The one he wore years ago when they first met. She still can’t believe he won’t get rid of it, has pointed this out to him multiple times already.

“It’s daddy!” Eleanor yells, and Taylor can already hear Joe’s quiet laugh. Of course there’s never a time when Eleanor simply leaves with Joe and not makes her face him in the doorway. Taylor just approaches Eleanor who’s standing in front of the opened door, looking back at her mum, waiting patiently for her to join her here. Sometimes, Taylor could almost think that she does this on purpose. That she makes sure Taylor has to face her dad every time he comes around to pick her up.

Within a few seconds, Taylor stands in front of him now too, her hand stroking over Eleanor’s wool beanie. The little girl is fully dressed for the winter park, her tiny green jacket matching her cream- colored beanie. Joe almost has no time to face Taylor, because Eleanor is already attacking him, jumping onto his arms to hug him tightly. He immediately picks the small girl up and spins her around a few times, groaning into her ears how much he missed her, placing a little kiss on top of he beanie on her head. Just when he slowly lets her back down to the ground is when Joe has the time to face Taylor. For once. She just stands there in her cream colored onesie, the one she used to hang out around the house with even back when they were still together. Her feet still wear the same weird fox slippers he used to make fun of. Her hair loosely hanging from the little bun in her neck. She’s not well put together, looks exactly the way only he used to see her around the house. And Joe hates it. He hates that she faces him today, looking like this again. Looking the way she did the first time he stayed over at her place in New York years ago. Not trying at all. Making him feel things he promised himself after last Christmas, to never feel again. Store them under the bed, right in the little box of his past and to lock her up, right in there. And make sure they won’t creep up again, the way they do right now.

“Hey.” she mumbles, a polite smile escaping her mouth. Joe takes a breath, looks at Eleanor to distract himself for a bit, before looking back up at her again. Facing her has never been easy since last year. But he’s getting better at it.

“Hey, I didn’t see you last time.” he already blurts out, has no clue why his nervous mouth has to just babble like this, without taking into consideration that it makes him look a bit weird and... nervous. Taylor seems just as uncomfortable as he is, laughs insecurely once more, then scratches the back of her head while standing in the doorway.

“Yeah, I was on a meeting last time you picked her up so..”

Joe just nods. He shouldn’t have said what he said before. Things are already awkward enough between them.

“Ready to leave, monkey?” He asks Eleanor, who is now sitting on the floor right next to the open door, putting her winter boots on. She nods immediately, seems to struggle a bit with her shoe laces, but is way too excited to sit still while looking at the big dog next to Joe. Taylor smiles. Eleanor loves Flint as much as the cats, always has and always will.

“Yes, daddy. Can I hold Flint again, later?”

“Of course. He’s so happy to see you too.” Joe mumbles with a smile on his face, crouches down to pet the big old golden retriever.

“Mummy, can you join us too?” Eleanor pouts, looking up at her mum from the floor.

Taylor laughs nervously a third time today, just shakes her head no. She can feel Joe’s stare in her neck, knows exactly why he’s so quiet all of the sudden.

“Honey, I told you I have some more work to do.”

“But mummy..” Eleanor pouts again, becoming as whiny as always when she wants something and Taylor just sighs.

“It’s good to get some fresh air. Especially now with the whole quarantine thing.” Joe says lightly, and Taylor turns to look at him. She knows his look and he knows hers.

He tried this before.

And so did she.

“I don’t know, I think it’s Eleanor and Daddy time, and…”

“No mummy, please. We can play with Flint together!” Eleanor tries again, now stands fully upright with her winter jacket and red boots next to her, and reaches for her mom’s hand. Taylor just sighs again, looks at Joe once more. She’s rolling her eyes and it makes Joe laugh. He just smiles, knows exactly how good their daughter is at getting what she wants, but makes sure not to look into Taylor’s eyes for too long. It feels like a welcoming distraction when Eleanor suddenly gets closer to him, lets herself fall onto his side once more, just hugging her dad’s leg before petting Flint again.

“Look mummy, he wants you to come with us.” Eleanor persists, points at Flint who just looks up at Tay. This old dog knows as well what the little girl is trying here.

Taylor just shakes her head and laughs. Eleanor definitely has that from her.

“Alright, if dad doesn’t mind..”

“He doesn’t.” Joe grins, and Taylor just nods, takes a step back to signal him that they can come back inside the house for a minute, just until she’s ready.

“Let me just put on some clothes, I’ll be back in a second.” she mumbles, already starts walking upstairs. Joe just closes the big door behind him, feels the warmth of this house and already smells the sandalwood candles coming from the kitchen. It smells like something he used to know so well. It smells like home.

“Daddy, come look at my pre- school folder.” Eleanor runs off yelling for him. With Flint next to him, Joe just laughs at his daughter.

“Darling, my shoes are a bit dirty from outside, I don’t..”

“Please daddy!” Eleanor calls him from the kitchen already. Joe quickly takes his shoes off with one hand, then makes his way into the kitchen. He has to swallow for a second as his eyes fall onto the picture frames placed upon the chimney. All the black and white pictures of the little baby girl. Taylor and Eleanor in the hospital bed. Benjamin and Eleanor on her first birthday. Pictures he took. Pictures that once meant the world to him. And she’s kept it all, certainly made this place a home.

“Daddy, look, I made this yesterday.” She squirms excitedly, holds the folder right in front of Joe. She’s fully clothed and ready for the cold. Joe has to laugh at her excitement to show him what she’s made.

“Wow, darling.” He just mumbles, is already crouching down to get a better look at her art project. A big rainbow fish, filled with glitter and confetti decorates the cover. In the middle of the front page, it says Eleanor Alwyn. Pre- School Class of 2020. He couldn’t be prouder.

“Look, this is a picture of me and mummy in lockdown.” she explains once Joe has opened the first page. He can’t help but smile.

“What are you two doing?” He asks.

“We’re watching a Christmas movie, look!” she says, her tiny finger pointing to what seems to be the television. He can’t help but laugh again, slowly turns his head to press a kiss onto her small face. There are no words for how much he loves this little girl.

“Have you and mum watched many of these this year?”

“Yes!” she just answers, and Joe laughs. Just in that moment, Taylor comes back into the room and sees the two crouching on the kitchen floor with her art folder. Flint is just sitting next to them, looking less excited about the scenery than Joe.

“I’m ready.” she just mumbles, and Joe looks up at her. He’s still smiling, seems to love what Eleanor is showing him.

“Are you showing daddy your pre- school folder?” Taylor laughs, as Joe looks up at her. He seems to catch himself becoming emotional, and slowly gets up.

“I’m so impressed what you two have been doing in quarantine.” He says with a smirk and Taylor can’t help but laugh as well.

“We’ve been very productive, haven’t we?” Taylor says and Eleanor nods, seems to not have understood the sarcasm between her parents.

“Ready?” Joe asks, looks at Taylor with a questioning look. Instead of getting dressed, she just threw a massive puff jacket over her onesie, a pair of black boots replacing the fox slippers and her blonde hair right under the grey beanie.

“Yeah, I was too lazy to get dressed so…”

“Alright, let’s go.” Joe mumbles, doesn’t comment her choice of outfit any further. Within a few seconds, they have left the house, started walking right into Camberbatch Road, and down the little lane to get closer to Hampstead Park. Whilst today was one of the coldest days so far, the sun is still up, sometimes disappearing behind the thick clouds, but steadily there. Making sure to come back and warm up this cold world at least for some time.

Eleanor has been as chatty as always when Joe picks her up to go for a walk in the park. For the first few minutes she’s been walking hand in hand with her dad, telling him about today’s class and how excited her class mates on Zoom have been when Benjamin showed up as her teddy bear. Taylor just listens quietly to their conversation and smiles. It’s been a good idea to get some fresh air, even if things with Joe are still more than awkward.

“Has he been sitting still?” Joe asks Eleanor, who immediately starts laughing, throws her head against her dad’s arm just being silly.

“No.” She laughs and so does Joe. He looks at Taylor and she grins as well.

“I mean what would you expect of Benji, huh?”

“Nothing less.” Joe answers.

A few minutes later the the three have reached the beginning of the Heath and the five year old girl impatiently starts to reach for Flint’s leash. She is getting more and more impatient the closer they came to the big park. Joe quickly stops and then crouches down to be able to properly look at his daughter.

“Alright bug, be careful and come back to me if another dog comes along, alright?” he asks and Eleanor excitedly nods, as Joe gives her Flint’s leash. Whilst the dog is almost her height, Eleanor confidently starts to run off onto the grass together with Flint by her side. Despite her huge puff jacket, she’s able to run as fast as humanly possible. Joe looks after them, can’t help but laugh quietly as well.

“Her confidence is everything.” Taylor mumbles while looking after her daughter, making Joe smirk.

“She’s done this many times, she can handle him.”

“Oh yeah I know, I.. I didn’t mean that.” She quickly adds and Joe nods, has no clue where the sudden awkwardness is coming from. He simply stares on the ground, can’t dare to look up to her or even right into her face. All he does is look at his feet, how his big winter boots are walking right on the cold ground. There’s not many people around, but more people than usually, two days before Christmas.

“So how are you?” Joe then asks, lifts up his head to look at what’s right in front of him, sees Eleanor and Flint playing and running on the fields at Hampstead Heath. Just like he did when he was Eleanor’s age. Right on the same grass. A nice circle that’s closing for him.

“I’m good. What about you? How has quarantine been treating you?” She asks, feels his slight laugh, even if she doesn’t look at him.

“It’s been fine. Just really annoying that we’re going back to Tier 4 again.” he mumbles, is more than happy that coronavirus is once more a great small talk topic to avoid awkward silences.

Taylor immediately nods, then even dares to look up at him while walking through the park.

“Ugh I know. This year has been such a mess.” she mumbles and Joe immediately nods.

“It really has been. I’m glad you two are staying safe not traveling.” Joe then says and dares to look at Taylor for the first time today. Taylor looks back at him, then sinks her head covered in her grey beanie once more. She knows exactly how he meant his last statement, and it’s hard for her to take. To feel how much he cares. For both of them. Still.

“Of course. It’s impossible for us to fly around during this time, especially cause pre- school has been extending their classes to make sure the kids are busy until things go back to normal. So it’s been great for her to have a daily schedule to see her friends.” Taylor says, looks at Eleanor who’s no more than a hundred meters away from both of them, running wild with Flint, who seems to barely be able to keep up with her. This poor old dog.

“Absolutely. You’re.. you’re doing a fantastic job being home with her 24/7. I... I hope you know that if it gets too much, you can just drop her off for a few days and I’ll keep her busy.”

Taylor looks at Joe and smiles. He’s never offered this to her since they’ve been in lockdown, and it’s more appreciated than he can imagine. With her bare face, Taylor smiles at him, her breath visible in front of her face due to the cold.

“Thanks, I think I might actually have to take on that offer.” She says, a laughing breath of air escaping her. Joe looks up at her once more, a bit confused.

“It’s exhausting to keep her busy 24/7. I’ve been trying to work, but...”

“Taylor, seriously, I live two kilometers away, why didn’t you ask me...”

Taylor wants to interrupt him and explain herself, but she knows too well that there’s no reason for her not calling him. There’s no reason why she didn’t ask for his help, why she didn’t simply put Eleanor in a car and let her stay at his house for a while. There is no reason, and it’s the first time that she realizes that herself might be the only reason for the distance between them right now.

“I... I didn’t know this is something you’d want to do.” She says then, knowing damn well that she’s lying.

“Of course, just... just have her stay with me for a few days after Christmas if you want.” Taylor doesn’t interrupt him, just nods as they continue walking down the Heath. The trees look so sad, have lost their leaves months ago already. Rotten and almost forgotten, do these leaves now remain on the ground, buried under the footprints of the endless amounts of people walking down this park this winter, trying to escape the prison of quarantine. Taylor has noticed before how many people have started going on hikes, connecting with nature again to escape being home all the time. A crazy dynamic for the world they’re all living in.

“Speaking of Christmas,” she then says, kind of happy that she’s been able to change topics.

“So as you probably know, there’s no way we can visit my parents this year or vice versa so I wanted to ask if it’s fine for you if Eleanor and me celebrate at my house on Christmas Eve and Boxing Day and a day later if you want, you can have her for a few days?” she asks, as Joe already looks up at her with a confused look.

“So you want to be alone with Eleanor for Christmas basically?” he asks again, and Taylor can already hear the mood changing in his voice. She really doesn’t want this to turn into an argument, she doesn’t want to disagree with Joe while having a conversation with him for the first time in months.

“I mean we’re in quarantine. The government literally told us to...”

“Tay, she’s five.” Joe suddenly interrupts her, and Taylor doesn’t know what hurts her more. The fact that he called her Tay, which is what only her closest people call her or the fact that he seems upset. She can feel that in his voice.

“She’s five years old and she’s got her dad and her uncles and her grandparents live.. a few meters away. I mean I appreciate that you want to keep her safe but we’re all getting tested tomorrow morning and I really want her to at least have a good Christmas especially in such a shitty year.”

Taylor doesn’t say anything, feels Joe becoming quieter and looking back at her.

“I just...”

“I want you to join as well.” he then suddenly blurts out, and within a matter of seconds, Taylor’s stops and looks at him in confusion. Joe turns around to her, his hands buried in his jacket. It’s freezing and he’s never been happier for the pockets in his black jacket.

“Joe, I... I appreciate you..”

“No Tay, I’m serious. I don’t want you and Eleanor be all alone on Christmas. Not her and not you. It’s... we’re....”

She can feel him search for words and it already pains her. He hasn’t said it yet and she doesn’t want him to. She knows what’s coming. She knows it too well.

“In some ways we’re still a family and I just don’t want you to sit alone in this house on Christmas Day. With or without Eleanor and...”

“Joe.” Taylor says. Her hand on his arm, she was just about to say something as Eleanor comes running by, seems more than upset. Immediately, Joe understands the situation. Flint has run off, right up to a couple with a small dog. Joe whistles twice and Flint quickly comes running back. “Did he run off?” Joe asks her, as Eleanor just nods quietly. Within a few seconds, Taylor has crouched down onto Eleanor’s height, takes her into her arms. Joe looks confused at the two, only then realized that Eleanor fell when Flint was running off.

“Oh darling, did you hurt yourself?” he asks as Taylor already signals him that the fall wasn’t that bad. Just when she lets go off Eleanor, the little girl hugs her dad once more, crocodile tears falling down her cheeks.

“I hurt my hand” she sobs, and Joe immediately reaches for the slightly bruised and cold hand and kisses it a few times, warming her up.

“My poor little angel.” he mumbles and Eleanor hugs her dad again, placing her head on his shoulders. Taylor can’t help but swallow down a laugh. Eleanor loves to be dramatic, another thing she’s got from her mother. And this little girl also enjoys her dad’s attention more than anything in this world.

“Look, there’s Flint.” Joe then says, just when the dog came running back. Eleanor quickly lets go of Joe and looks at the dog with an upset face.

“You hurt me when you ran off, Flint.” Eleanor says as dramatic as she can be and Taylor as well as Joe try their hardest to stay serious.

“I think he’s sorry, isn’t he..” Joe mumbles and pets the confused dog a bit. Eleanor also seems to calm down slowly and runs her hand over the dog’s head a few times.

“It’s okay, Flinty.” she then mumbles and Joe laughs, moves his head to kiss her head once more.

“Come on, let’s keep walking together.” Joe says and Eleanor keeps walking next to her dad, hand in hand. After a few minutes, she lets go off his hand once more and runs off. Taylor just looks at her mini- me and smiles.

How quickly to forget, as a child. How easy to leave a situation and simply move on.

“Alright, alright. One hot chocolate with caramel and whip cream for miss E.” Joe repeats with a laugh on his face, taking his face mask out of his pockets while letting go off Eleanor’s little hand.

“What can I get you?” He asks Taylor. It’s slowly getting dark outside and they’ve made it back, are now standing in front of the little Starbucks located in the heart of Hampstead Village. Just three shops are open at the moment, offering hot beverages and meals for take away. He can see in Taylor’s make up free face how cold she is. Her cheeks are red and her hands are buried in her own puff jacket pockets. She certainly needs a drink to warm up as much as he does.

“Mhm maybe…”

“Skinny Caramel Latte?”

Taylor looks at him, can’t help but smile. She can’t believe he still knows her so well.

“Sounds good.”

Joe laughs, winks at her and disappears inside. Taylor looks after him, waiting outside. It’s hard for her to believe sometimes how he hasn’t changed at all. He still knows every little detail of her by heart, and so does she. But maybe, just maybe, he has changed? Maybe he has been able to change for all the reasons she wanted him to, exactly a year ago. A year ago, when she had a piece of what she once knew. A piece of Joe, something she had to leave behind once more. For her, but even more for Eleanor.

Taylor slowly crouches down to Eleanor, who stands next to Flint and carefully pets his head.

“Are you cold?” Taylor asks her quietly, but Eleanor shakes her head. She’s exhausted and tired from all the running around and fresh air she’s had today. Taylor can sense that. After the sugar crash from her hot chocolate, Eleanor will certainly sleep well tonight. A gift for her mother also.

“That was such a fun day with dad, huh?” Taylor asks with an uplifted voice, and Eleanor nods as well. Something is upsetting her. Taylor can sense this immediately.

Wrapped up in her big jacket and beanie covering her ears, Eleanor just stands there. She’s become so quiet since the last few minutes, just strokes Flint’s head up and down.

“What’s up, baby?” Taylor says quietly, enjoys being so close to her that nobody can hear her but Eleanor.

Taylor doesn’t get an answer, just witnesses how the corners of Eleanor’s mouth are slowly drooping. In slight shock, Taylor just takes Eleanor into her arms. The little girl starts crying for a second time today, but this time it’s not because she’s hurt her hand.

“Baby, what’s.. what’s going on? Why are you sad?” Taylor just asks, a bit worried, her hand immediately in her beanie, comforting the cold little girl in her arms. Eleanor slowly lets go off Taylor’s chest and just stares at her mommy. She immediately wipes away the little tears from Eleanor’s cheeks with her thumbs.

“I don’t want daddy to go home.”

Taylor feels a punch in her stomach. She knew it. She could’ve known that this would happen.

“Honey, daddy is first of all getting you a hot chocolate and then..”

“And then he will go home but I don’t want him to go home.” she gets whiny again, and Taylor doesn’t answer, just kisses the cheeky little face a few times. When Taylor and Joe spent time together over Christmas last year, Eleanor had a similar breakdown. And Taylor knows why. It brings back old memories of mommy and daddy together with her. It brings back memories of dad leaving. Memories of her moving into a different house. A house where daddy isn’t living at anymore.

“I promise you, we will see daddy in a few days. Okay?”

Eleanor doesn’t answer, and Taylor feels her heart breaking once more.

This was never what she wanted. This was never what she wanted that day, when Eleanor was laying on her bare chest, opening her eyes for the first time. This was never part of all the promises she gave to the little girl in her arms.

Just when Taylor was about to comfort her once more, Joe comes out of the shop again, a little brown craft tray with three cups in his hands. As he takes off his mask, he can see Eleanor’s face and the wet little cheeks coming out of the beanie and warm jacket she’s wearing. He can see Taylor’s look. He can feel it up his spine.

“Hey, love. Your hot chocolate.” He just gently says, crouches down to Eleanor just like Taylor did. Eleanor is not crying anymore, but she seems sad. Joe feels that.

“Is everything alright?” He asks, and Eleanor just falls into another hug with him. Joe almost drops the little paper tray, as Taylor takes it from him within a few seconds, holding Flint’s leash in her other hand as well. Joe just hugs his little daughter back, is obviously confused.

“Sweetheart..”

“Daddy, can you stay with us tonight..”

“Eleanor!” Taylor interrupts her, as Joe just signals Taylor he’s handling this.

“Darling, why do you want that?” He whispers into her ear. Eleanor just looks up at him, still whining.

“Because you always go home after we played with Flint.” She says, Joe knows exactly what she means.

“That’s cause it’s almost dark, my love.” He says, holding her head in his hands. He slowly kisses her forehead once, and then her lips.

“How about we go home and have our hot chocolate, and then if it’s fine with mummy we can play in your room a bit longer, huh?” Joe says to comfort Eleanor, already got a comforting nod from Taylor. She just stands there, feels shattered for the hundredth time since they’ve been doing this. It’s certainly not the first time that Eleanor is reacting like this after they’ve spent time together. Taylor knows that she misses him. That Eleanor remembers what it was like when dad didn’t have to “go home” and her sleeping place was right between both of them. It’s rare but these are the moments in which Taylor feels like she failed. Feels like she’s been telling herself and Eleanor a big fat lie. The lie that being separated from Joe, would be the right thing. The lie that Joe is the one who brings uncertainty into her life. A lie that’s been reality for her for so many months on end.

She can’t and won’t forget that.

Joe slowly gets up, kisses Eleanor’s cold little mouth one more time.

“Daddy might live somewhere else, but I’m never gone. You can always visit me, and I will always visit you.”

Eleanor immediately reaches for her hot chocolate that Taylor is giving to her and nods. She seems to be happy with his answer - for now. She nips on the cup one time, her eyes still puffy from her tears.

“Good?” Joe asks and she nods.

“Good.” She answers and he laughs quietly. She already has a chocolate mustache in her face.

Joe can’t dare to look at Taylor’s face again, just takes his coffee from the tray in her hands as they slowly start walking home. For the rest of the walk, Taylor is quiet. A bit too quiet for his taste. He knows how she feels, can feel it through her wool beanie and puff jacket. She feels guilty. She feels guilty for something she shouldn’t feel guilty about.

Just when the three arrive at the front door of the big house, Taylor takes out the key from her pockets and opens up. Eleanor is busy telling Joe about her friend Rosie’s doll house that she misses playing with and how she wishes that Santa Claus would get her the same.

Taylor still says nothing. Joe slowly gets in, looks at Taylor who just closes the door.

“Do you want me to put Flint into…”

“Oh yeah, let me get him some water and we can have him wait downstairs. I think the cats would..”

“Yeah sounds great.” Joe says, and thankfully passes Flint on the leash to Taylor. After all, the cats have never got along well with him and they shouldn’t be risking the animals getting into a fight tonight.

Joe just watches her immediately walk off with him, takes off his shoes himself.

The steps on the staircase creak louder than he intended, slowly makes his way downstairs. Joe is only wearing black socks, his jeans and long sleeve casually covering his upper body. He slowly glances into the living room, can see the big flat screen tv running, but Taylor is nowhere to be seen. Candles on the coffee tableare lit, the little lamp at the end of the big living room turned on, lighting up the room in the most cozy way. He smiles. Taylor always knew how to make a place a home. As he takes a few more steps into the living room, Joe suddenly realizes that Taylor is passed out on the couch, her back facing him from where he stands. He slowly walks up to the tv, doesn’t want to startle her. He remains silent. Taylor is hugging one of the big orchid colored pillows, sleeps silently. The fresh air today seems to have not just helped Eleanor pass out faster than usual - it has made her tired as well. Joe doesn’t move, just looks at her sleeping. This has always been his weakness. Her most angelic state, asleep, right next to him. Joe slowly moves, places his hand on her arm, trying to wake her up gently.

“Hey, Tay..”

After a second, Tay wakes up and is startled. She quickly sits up, looks at him confusedly and Joe grins. He knows that look too well. She’s always needed a second to come back to life after being asleep.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to…”

“Oh, no no.” she quickly says, scratches her head on the side she’s been laying on. This side of her face has imprinted the pattern of the pillow. Joe smirks, but doesn’t say anything.

“I’m.. I’m sorry, I just passed out.”

Joe nods softly.

“No problem, I just wanted to let you know that Eleanor’s asleep as well. We were playing with her dolls and it took her half an hour to pass out on the carpet. So I just tucked her to bed. Hope that’s alright…”

“Yeah, perfect. Thank you so much.” she says.

“Alright, I’m going to get going then.” Joe says. Taylor was about to get up to accompany him to the door as she realizes that they haven’t finished speaking about Christmas.

“Oh, uhm Joe, can we.. can we quickly speak about Christmas before you leave?” She asks. Joe immediately nods, casually comes around to where she’s sitting and lets himself fall onto the place next to her, right on the big and comfy couch.

“I almost forgot, you’re right.”

“I just…” Tay turns down the volume of the tv and looks at him. “Joe, I just wanted to say that… that first of all…”

He can see that she’s thought this through, watches her play with her hands in nervousness while speaking. He knows her too well for her to hide anything. He knows every gesture, every look, every single detail of her body language. She is nervous. She is looking for the right way to say whatever she needs to say.

“First of all, I appreciate your kindness. So much. In.. in you thinking of me and wanting to invite me for Christmas, but..”

“But?”

“But I really thought about this earlier, and I came to the decision that I want you and Eleanor to celebrate together with your family like you did last year. I really am fine being home with the cats. I’m going to FaceTime my family, watch a movie and go to bed. I think this year the circumstances are even weirder than last year, so I would really prefer to lay low and…”

“May I.. may I say something?”

Taylor looks at him a bit confused, is not used to him interrupting her in this way.

“Uhm, sure.”

“I spoke to my family about this a lot. About how weird things have been between my parents and you. I mean.. you haven’t seen them since Christmas last year and we both know how weird the circumstances were.” He says, referring to the last Christmas. The last time they’ve seen each other. Back when she and Joe were repeating old patterns, making old mistakes. Back then, when she begged him so much to change. Begged him to undo the past years.

Taylor looks at him in shock, thinking about the fact that his family has been speaking about her. She has no idea where this is going, but she surely knows that her hands are getting sweatier the second they speak.

“And… Tay, I…” he stops again, looks at the insides of his hands. She’s barely experienced Joe like this. The only time he’s searched for words was when he asked her to marry him, years ago, years before Eleanor was in the picture and she turned him down. Bits and pieces of their history coming up in her while he sits there, as handsome as always, speaking to her.

“I know a lot happened between us, but.. this year, more than ever, I realized that you and me we will always be family. You.. you’re Eleanor’s mum. You’re my daughter’s mother. And I want us to achieve what we didn’t manage to achieve last year. Being friends. Being family. I just.. I wish we could be fine again.”

Taylor feels goosebumps coming up, immediately nods. She relates to what he says. They will forever be connected. They will forever have to see each other. And things certainly would be easier, if they were cool with each other and she wouldn’t have to go into hiding whenever he comes to pick up his daughter.

“I know, Joe. Me too, really.”

“And actually, it was my mum’s idea. She.. she asked me to speak to you. And to ask if you want to come over on Christmas Eve. As I said, we will all get tested tomorrow so we can make sure everyone’s safe. I think it would mean a lot to my family to reconnect and.. especially to me.”

Taylor looks at him, and for the first time in a while, she honestly smiles. There’s no hesitation, no hiding, no underlying thought - she wanted exactly that. Even last year, she wanted nothing more than for them to be fine again, especially with his family. Eleanor’s family. And therefore, her family.

“I want to reconnect too.” She then adds, sees in Joe’s face how relieved he seems to be. He smirks the same smirk she knows too well, his blue eyes shining, shyly looks down to hide the fact that he’s indeed smiling widely. She feels a bit drunk, looking at his smile, at his shy way of sitting there again. The way he always did.

“And I.. I’m sorry, Joe.” her mouth suddenly moves. He looks up at her. “I’m sorry for.. for sleeping with you and then disappearing.” she says, can see in his face that he didn’t expect her to go there. And neither did Taylor. She nervously changes her seating position on the couch, moves her leg up under her bum, pulls the sleeves of her onesie over her knuckles, while looking into his face.

“It was wrong, I played with fire.. I think we both played with fire. But it wasn’t right of me to just disappear. I know I kept saying, I want you to change, I want you to be more grown up, more responsible, but… right now, it seems like you’re more responsible and more grown up than me.” she says softly, shrugs with her shoulders and looks into his face with every ounce of honesty. Joe doesn’t move, he nods. He’s thankful. He’s never been more thankful for anything she’s ever said to him.

“I have changed this last year, yeah.” he then adds. She looks at him, the flicker of the tv in the darkness reflecting onto his face. It’s only 8pm, yet it’s fully dark outside. A classy, depressing English winter evening. But Taylor doesn’t feel depressed anymore. Taylor sits here, and feels how warm and tingly everything in her is getting. The kind of warmth you would expect when something finally happens that you’ve been praying for a long time. She knew he had changed. She knew it every Wednesday, and every Sunday when he stood in the door, picking up Eleanor to spend time with him. She knew every time the phone rang, and Eleanor would excitedly tell him about her day for at least half an hour. Every time Eleanor would come home, happily fall into her arms, telling her about her adventures with her dad.

“I know you have.” she quietly says, a smile on her face. Joe looks up again, the mood as warm and familiar as ever. He doesn’t say anything, simply reaches for her hand. And Taylor remains quiet too, just lets him hold hers. It’s been a year. It’s been ages. It’s been a lifetime of Taylor and Joe, yet it feels like only a second since he last did this. Simply hold her hand. Just sit there, being there.

Actually being there.

“I should.. I should get going.” he then says, lets go off her. She just nods, gets up together with him. She can feel that he’s been overwhelmed. And so was she. Joe slowly walks into the hallway, and Taylor tuns on the little light, right on the side board.

“So, you.. you can get tested too if you want. Dinner’s at 6 o’clock. My mum told me to ask if you want to stay over…”

Taylor leans in the door frame, watches him put his winter boots back on. She smiles. Nothing compares to the warmth she feels at the thought of Elizabeth wanting her there. Her second mother. That’s how close they used to be years ago.

“That’s incredibly sweet but, I think I will just go home after dinner. Eleanor can sleep with you. I can come back in the morning for presents.”

Joe nods, accepts her decision fully.

“Should I.. should I bring something for dinner? I can make dessert, or..”

“No, just bring some Eleanor.” Joe jokes, Taylor laugh quietly. He can see in her eyes, what a massive relief there is. She seems so light, lighter than he’s witnessed her in years. Nothing ever made her more beautiful to him, than her most honest smile.

“Okay, will do that.”

Joe gets up, opens the big door himself.

“Alright then.” She says. Joe smiles one more time. He laughs. And so does Taylor. Things certainly are a bit awkward still.

“Come here.” he then casually mumbles and pulls her into a tight hug. Taylor doesn’t say anything, lets him hug her tight. She closes her eyes, both her hands hugging him back. She doesn’t want this hug to end. It feels better than last year. It feels more real. honest. raw. They’ve come quite a long way.

“Thank you so much.” she mumbles once more, and Joe ends the hug, smiling at her once more.

“You too.” He whispers, then slowly lets go off her and leaves the house. Taylor just stands in the doorway and watches him walk off. She waves one last time, only until he’s left the road her house is on and then closes the door.

She looks into the big mirror one last time, fixes her messed up bangs and makes sure her long sleeve cotton dress covers everything it needs to cover. The past two days have been interesting. She’s been telling her friends about this afternoon with Joe. About their holding hands, their hug, his invitation for her to join their family Christmas again. Taylor couldn’t be more thankful yet she knows that she needs to take it slow. That if they’re really onto something real and good, then this time, they need to take it extra slow.

Taylor turns around again, then perfects her red lipstick. Even though she wants ‘extra slow’, she can still look fabulous tonight.

“Honey? We need to leave.” Taylor yells upstairs, hears Eleanor answering her from the bathroom. Taylor quickly puts on her black coat, grabs her tiny handbag and walks upstairs. Just when she enters her daughter’s room is when she has to laugh. There’s tiny bits of paper everywhere, it seems that Eleanor’s self made presents have certainly taken up a lot of paper and created quite a mess in this room. But Taylor can’t be strict today. She knows how excited Eleanor is for today. And so is she.

“Ready?” Taylor asks, looks at her baby girl collecting her favorite toys for her tiny backpack that she wants to bring for her sleepover at grandma’s house.

“Yes, mommy. Look, all my presents are in here.” she says, shows her mum the little paper bag she has designed herself with all the kitten stickers on top of it. Taylor laughs, bends down to kiss Eleanor’s hair.

“Come on, put your shoes and jacket on. Brandon is outside waiting for us.” she says and Eleanor storms downstairs. A few minutes later, Taylor fixes the mask on her face before getting into the big black car where Brandon is sitting. Right next to Eleanor, Taylor feels her stomach churning. She feels as nervous as back then when she would meet his family for the first time. In a way, it feels exactly like that. It’s meeting them again since a very long time. A very long time with absolutely no contact. Filled with fears and guilt and anger.

But not tonight.

After less than fifteen minutes, the big black car stops right in front of the little brick stone house right at Budwick’s Lane. Eleanor gets out of the car, her little backpack on, as happy as ever. Taylor closes the car’s door, carries the pink bag with Eleanor’s toiletries and clothes, waving Brandon goodbye.

While Eleanor is already running up to the doors entry, Taylor feels how nauseous she suddenly gets. Standing there for a minute, she just takes a good look at the old brick stone a house, covered in ivy. The light shining out from the little hatch, right above the guest bathroom window. This house was once her first home away from home, in this country. So many memories that she feels all at once. Good and bad ones. Taylor suddenly wonders, if this was really Elizabeth’s idea? After all, she will never be able to forget Elizabeth’s angry stare a year ago at Eleanor’s theatre performance at pre- school.

Without Taylor being able to take a last deep breath, the old door opens and Richard stands there, Eleanor immediately jumping onto his arms. He hasn’t changed. He’s still Joe’s dad.

“Grandpa!” Eleanor yells, seems just as happy as Richard to see her.

“My little monkey.” he smiles, kisses the five year old on her head. Taylor just stands there, swallowing once.

“Merry Christmas.” she just says, slowly follows her daughter who’s been running off into the living room already. Richard just stands there and smiles, then does something she never expected. Within a few seconds, he just signals her to come in and pulls her into a warm hug. Just like he did back then.

“Merry Christmas, Taylor.” he says, then slowly let’s go. “You look fantastic, have you been well this year?” Taylor is certainly a bit overwhelmed by the hug, nods immediately as Richard helps her take off her jacket.

“I’m great! How are you?” she asks, just looks around and feels the greatest sensation of ‘home’ she could ever imagine. The old fireplace in the living room is lit, she can see that from the hallway. Laughter and Joe’s voice is coming from kitchen. The smell of Elizabeth’s Christmas pie. Nothing has changed.

“Oh thanks, we’re good as always. Come in, I think Elizabeth..” Taylor walks in, when just in that moment, Elizabeth stands right in front of her. This is the moment she’s been dreading the most.

“Merry Christmas!” Taylor just stutters, feels an immense amount of relief when Elizabeth smiles warmly. The sixty year old woman hasn’t changed the slightest. Her brown hair hanging down her shoulders. She quickly places the kitchen towel on the counter and walks towards Taylor.

“We’re very happy you two are joining us.” Elizabeth says, then hugs Taylor as well. But this time, the hug is slower. More honest. Taylor closes her eyes, feels how emotional she’s getting. This place, these arms, used to be family. No matter what is and no matter what has been, she couldn’t be more thankful for this peace offer from her side. As Taylor slowly let’s go, Elizabeth smiles at her warmly.

“I missed you.” she says quietly. Taylor nods immediately.

“I missed you too.”

Just when Taylor was about to say something else, Eleanor starts to pull on Taylor’s dress.

“Mummy, mummy look! Santa Claus already left me one present under the tree for tonight.” she yells excitedly. Taylor as well as everyone else in near proximity laughs quietly at the young girl’s excitement. Just when Taylor was about to crouch down to tell Eleanor how happy she is for her, is the moment when Joe suddenly stops in front of her, pulls Taylor into another hug.

But this one is making her knees go weaker than the ones before.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” he whispers, and Taylor closes her eyes. If only he knew how happy she is to be here.

After a few seconds, Joe slowly lets go and looks at her smiley face. Her cheeks are red and she seems flushed. He knew it would mean the world to her to finally leave behind the conflict she had with his family.

“I’m glad to be here too.” she smiles at him, as Joe slowly takes her hand and walks into the living room with her. Right next to the big Christmas tree that is lit up with dozens of little lights, Taylor can see Patrick and Tom stand there with Nicole and two other people. A bit confused, Taylor just lets him take her by the hand.

“I’m so happy that you get to finally meet Naomi.” he then says, comes to a full stop with Taylor right in front of the brunette woman. With long brown hair and the most stunning smile, Naomi gives Taylor the hand and smiles warmly.

“Taylor, so nice to finally meet you.” she says and Taylor feels like someone just ripped out her stomach and put it back in again. With shaky hands, Taylor forces herself to smile back at the woman, looks more than confused at Joe. He seems so nervous, carefully places his hand on Naomi’s back, his gentle eyes looking at the brunette girl, ensuring she’s doing fine. Taylor feels like fainting, uses all the power within her to remain standing. Right here, in this living room, where she was once the one meeting family. Right here, where she was once the one being looked after by his kind eyes. The living room in which their daughter celebrated almost every Christmas so far.

“Nice to meet you too.” Taylor then brings out, is more than proud of herself for having been able to say these few words.

Shocked but more than angry at herself, Taylor looks at Naomi and back at Joe. How stupid she was, to think that his peace offer was for more than them reconnecting. He wanted to them to be civil. He wanted to finally close the chapter Taylor.

How stupid she was.

Taylor immediately looks at Eleanor, who pulls once more on her dress. Taylor never thought she could be so happy to be interrupted by her daughter, but she is. She is thankful for every second, in which she doesn’t have to face Naomi or Joe or worse - them both together.

“I’m so glad you’re here. I was so nervous to meet you, so... wow I’m really embarrassing right now.” Naomi says to Taylor, who’s now looking up at her again. Taylor swallows, fakes her nicest smile. And she’s doing quite well so far. She’s doing well, up until she sees Joe’s soft laugh, and his hand that is right on her back again, stroking her up and down.

“Tay, hey.” a young man suddenly says, and Taylor turns around. She sees Patrick standing in front of her, who hugs her immediately. He’s taller than she remembered and it’s still hard for her to comprehend that he’s no longer the shy fourteen year old she once knew, but instead a twenty- two year old university graduate. For the first time tonight, she honestly feels happy to shake someone else’s hand. Someone she hasn’t met before.

“This is Jess, my girlfriend.”

Taylor smiles at the blonde girl and then at Patrick.

“So nice to meet you!” she quickly says, then looks at Patrick again.

“Joe said you two moved in together?” Taylor asks, and Patrick nods. Taylor smiles warmly. She’s more than happy for Patrick.

“I’m glad you’re here, Tay.” Patrick says, and as always, she can still feel the truth in his words. Ever since back then, when she and Joe picked him up from his field trip, and that one evening in her rental house when she and Patrick had pizza and spoke about his heart break - ever since then, Patrick and her had a great bond. It’s not just Joe, who she lost. She also lost Patrick, his parents, this home.

A life.

Taylor can feel Joe’s glance. She can feel how he constantly looks back at her, reassuring himself she’s doing fine after meeting Naomi. And Taylor immediately feels her acting skills come up. She wants him to think she’s fine. She wants him to think that she’s untouchable, healthy, happy. That she’s moved on like him. That she didn’t spend the last hours recalling every moment of Monday afternoon.

Not at all.

To Be Continued.

#Christmasbound #lovebound #part 3 #taylor swift #joe alwyn #joe and taylor #taylor swift fanfiction #fanfiction #london #christmas #love

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stereksecretsanta · 4 years

Text

Merry Christmas, hazelestelle!

For @hazelestelle <3

Read On AO3

*****

It's Always Something, Even at Christmas

Chapter 1

“I need you to be my date.”

Stiles turned so quickly he fell out of his chair and cursed as he hit the floor and landed directly on his elbow. He glared up at Derek from the floor and gave him a look as he rolled his eyes and said, “Could you at least try to come in through the front door like a normal person?” while Derek stood there just inside his window, hands inside his leather coat, looking entirely undisturbed at the fact that he’d scared the crap out of his emissary.

“I need you to be my date,” he repeated, looking thoroughly annoyed, but Stiles, being far too attuned to the Alpha’s moods, noticed the slight hint of desperation in his tone. “The stupid firm I’m working for is having a Christmas party and if I don’t come with a date, specifically you, then that woman who works across from me is going to jump me.”

Stiles snorted as he got to his feet, rubbing his elbow, tossing the man a look as he went back to his laptop and said, “You could just not go to the party, you know that, right?”

Derek let out an exasperated sigh and threw himself onto Stiles’ bed and uncharacteristically rubbed his hands over his face and said, “God, I wish it were that easy. This stupid architecture degree was supposed to make my job easier, not harder,” he complained, and then said, “The thing is, I just finished helping the partners with a big project and they personally invited me to their private Christmas party. At their house,” he explained. “If I say no, I’ll look like the world’s biggest asshole…”

“As opposed to…?”

Derek shot him a bitch face and Stiles couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Seriously, dude. I still don’t know how you convinced them that you were a nice guy,” he commented, turning his attention back to the research that he’d been doing before Derek had so rudely interrupted him.

Something had been hunting the local pets in the area and Stiles had narrowed it down to a few supernatural beings. Being the Hale pack’s emissary wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. The pack still had him pulling all nighters to help them out, on top of his normal job, which was working out of the new local FBI offices. When he’d finally finished his training, he’d put in a request and they had gladly let him set up a new office just outside of Beacon Hills. Anything for the new wunderkid agent who was making the agents back in D.C. look bad.

When he’d finally gotten back home, however, he discovered that Derek had returned back, as well, and with a degree in architecture, which was downright baffling to him because he had assumed that when the man had disappeared back in the Mexican desert that he’d gone off to do werewolf stuff…apparently, not so much. From what he had gleaned through secondhand information, Derek had gone off to New York and settled in and gotten his degree at NYU.

To think that they had both been on the east coast at the same time, only an hour and a half train ride away from each other for nearly five years…Stiles sometimes wondered if Derek had known that he was in D.C. but hadn’t cared enough to do anything about it.

And then Stiles had found out that the man was an alpha again. That had thrown him for a loop.

When he’d gotten back, he’d found out that Deaton was planning on leaving, so Stiles had used up all of his spare time picking his brain about what it meant to be an emissary, and suddenly found himself with a second job when Derek had asked him in the most formal way possible if he was willing to be the pack’s emissary.

He’d said yes.

And then Erica and Boyd had rolled back into town after hearing that Derek was back and an alpha, yet again, despite having left back in junior year when things had gone to hell in a handbasket around Beacon Hills. And Derek had himself a little pack consisting of those two, Isaac, and a new kid named Liam, who Isaac was incredibly protective over.

So now Stiles was living back at home in his old room with his dad, just like in high school, and Derek was still breaking in through his window.

Considering that they were both adults, it was more than a little bit weird. But, at the same time, it was familiar and safe, so he kind of enjoyed it. Despite being twenty-four years old and still living at home, his dad let him keep whatever hours he wanted and he and came and went as he pleased…and Derek still couldn’t use the front door.

“Look,” Derek said, sounding tired, “They said I could bring a date and I told them that I would bring you, and they all…”

When his voice suddenly dropped off, Stiles looked over at him, trying to figure out why the heck Derek looked guilty as hell. He was now looking at the floor and had shoved his hands so deep into his pockets that Stiles was certain that they were about to rip at the seams.

“They what, Derek?” he prompted him.

He finally looked back up at him.

“They’ve apparently all assumed that you’re my boyfriend because I’ve talked about you so much.” Stiles’ eyebrow shot up and he opened his mouth to say something, but then Derek cut him off with an eyeroll and said, “Look, I talk about you because you’re our pack’s emissary, but I can’t tell them that, so they get a highly edited version of my weekend events and your name comes up a lot, and they all just assumed, and please don’t make this any harder than this is for me.”

He was sorely tempted to make fun of him, but he instead withheld the impulse and licked his lips and said, “If I say yes, what will I be expected to do at this party?”

Derek huffed, but then answered, “I don’t know…act…boyfriend-like. Do whatever it is couples do, I guess.” He shrugged his shoulders and Stiles took some perverse pleasure at seeing how uncomfortable he was, but also felt a faint twinge of regret. “Hold hands, kisses on the cheek, pet names…stuff like that.”

The picture he gave him was one that Stiles had secretly wanted for years. He’d fallen for him back in high school but had known that someone as gorgeous and amazing as Derek was way out of his league, even more so considering his werewolf status and all of his abilities. He consistently attracted older women to him and so Stiles knew that he would never have a chance, but it was nice to know that Derek had talked about him enough at work and in such a way that his coworkers thought that Stiles was his boyfriend.

He thought about torturing him a bit longer, but instead capitulated and said, “Sure, why not. When and where is it?”

Derek’s shoulders slumped in relief.

“Next weekend. I’ll pick you up Saturday night, don’t worry about it.”

“Dress code?”

Derek gave him another look.

“Uh…don’t know. I’ll find out. Just…thank you, Stiles,” he said, and the emissary nodded, keeping his emotions in check, even though he kinda wanted to shout from the rooftops that he was going on a date with Derek Hale. So, what if it was a fake date, it was better than nothing.

Derek moved to leave through the window, and Stiles couldn’t help but say, “Does that mean I can call you Der Bear?”

He heard him growl as he dropped to the ground and he laughed.

Yeah, this was gonna be fun.

“So, I hear you and Derek are going out on a date,” said Erica as she sprawled out on his office couch, kicking her legs out behind her as she lay on her stomach, staring intently at her nails as Stiles finished up a report for the head office, thoroughly entrenched in getting through it before he called it quits and went to lunch, which was the reason why she was there.

“It’s not a real date, it’s just to keep his coworkers off his back,” he said, still staring at his screen as he typed.

She let out a snort, rolled over to her back and shot him a look.

“Yeah, fake, right. You do know that Mr. Grumpycat has been pining after you for years, now, right?” she shot back at him and Stiles shook his head, knowing better than to take anything of what she said as serious. “He’s been all broody and serious ever since you came back to Beacon Hills,” she complained.

Stiles rolled his eyes.

“So, no different than usual, then?” he couldn’t help but retort, flipping a page on the papers that he was referencing as he wrote his report.

But at that, Erica sat back up, her hair spilling around her shoulders in that effortless way that most models would kill for and gave him a look and said, “Actually, before you showed up, he seemed to have really changed. He was wearing more normal clothes, like sweaters and stuff, not a leather jacket to be seen. He was even smiling more, acting like a person, you know?” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “It was like seeing the human side of him for once. But then you showed up and he becomes all Broody McBrooderson again…”

Stiles sighed, though slightly amused at her description of the alpha, but ignored her just long enough so that he could finish his report, and then stood up, reached over and grabbed his coat and said, “Can we just go to lunch?”

She rolled her eyes at him a second time, but then smiled.

“Fine. Lunch it is.”

And with that they walked out arm in arm from his office, and Stiles smirked when he saw a few of the other agents sneak glances at her, most of them unaware of the fact that she was taken. He was fairly certain that quite a few of them thought that Erica was his girlfriend, but he didn’t really care.

She wore her skinny jeans, thigh high black boots, and her usual too-tight low-cut top with a leather jacket thrown over it for good measure. Stiles looked like a worn-out door to door salesman next to her in his rumpled suit, but he didn’t mind. Ever since he had come back, the two of them had bonded in a way that Stiles had always wished they had and now she was like the best friend that he’d never had…she had even beat out his old best friend, Scott. Scott had left Beacon Hills to go to vet school and, according to his mom, he wasn’t coming back.

He still kept in touch with him, but it was sort of an unspoken understanding between the two of them that Scott wanted nothing more to do with the goings-on of Beacon Hills and the supernatural drama that came with it. Stiles was fine with that, and still kept in close contact with Melissa…who had been spending a suspicious amount of time with his dad, recently.

He didn’t want to think about it too much, so he turned his attention to Erica as they sat down in the booth at the diner and ordered their usual. As soon as their food arrived, he changed the subject.

“So…how’s Boyd doing?”

At the question, she lit up and Stiles smiled as she began to jabber away.

“Oh my god, he’s doing so good. Ever since he found that job at the hospital as an orderly, he’s been doing so good. He really loves helping people, you know?” she said with a bright smile, dipping one of her fries into her milkshake and taking a bite. “I’m still working on trying to finish my GED, which is a serious pain in the ass, but as soon as I get it, I’m looking into becoming a volunteer counselor at the youth center,” she admitted, sounding a bit shy as she did, and Stiles smiled.

She was amazing with teenagers, especially the girls, and Stiles thought it was a perfect fit for her.

“I’m happy for the two of you,” he said, completely sincere. He didn’t have any romantic prospects, male or female, but he was okay with it. He was just happy to see his friends finally happy.

Erica gave him another blinding smile…but then it turned devious as she said, “So…this ‘fake’ date that you and Derek are having. I hear it’s for the private Christmas party that he was invited to, right?” Stiles groaned, but she didn’t let up. “I bet there’s gonna be mistletoe there. I don’t care what it takes, you need to drag that boy under it and get it on with him already!”

He threw a french fry at her, but she caught it between her teeth and continued to grin at him.

Finally, he said, “I’m not dragging him anywhere, let alone towards something that could potentially kill him. Look, I know you think that he likes me, too, but trust me when I say that it’s barely concealed annoyance. At best.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m serious! I mean, when he asked me to be emissary, of course I said yes, but that’s all I am to him. I am a tool that helps keep the pack safe and that’s it, Erica. That’s all it’s ever going to be. And I’m fine with that, seriously. I love being someone that can help the pack, the person that you guys can turn to when the going gets rough. Hell, that’s why I joined the FBI,” he added, eating one of his own fries.

She arched an eyebrow at him, and he could see the look all over her face.

“Stiles. He likes you. As in, he likes likes you.”

He gave her a look right back and said, “Oh, so we’re reverting to middle school terms, now? What next? You gonna hand me note from him that says, ‘do you like me? Check yes or no’?”

She rolled her eyes and practically pouted as she said, “Look, he’s my alpha and I can tell when he’s not acting right and ever since you came back his scent gets all weird whenever you’re around or any time that he’s thought that you might be in trouble, and Isaac and Liam have both been worried about him, too,” she admitted, and Stiles was taken off guard by the naked honesty in her tone.

He licked his lips, put down the burger that he was about to take a bite of and said, “You…you’re serious?”

She nodded.

“Yeah. So…don’t fuck this up, okay? He may act like you’re just doing him a favor, going to the Christmas party and all, but I know that this means a lot to him,” she muttered, picking at the edge of the table, chipping off a piece of the flaking formica with one perfectly manicured fingernail. “He acts all tough around you, and only you, and I may not know why…but I know that he has feelings for you, Stiles. So, don’t fuck this up.”

He took a deep breath…but then nodded. At that, she seemed to relax, and they went back to their lunch, him talking about his research on the creature that was going after the local pets (most likely a lamia, though he had no idea how it had made its way to Beacon Hills), and Erica chiming it about the online college classes that both Isaac and Liam were taking, and how the additions onto the Hale house were coming. According to Erica, both of the boys wanted their own rooms, but Derek was insisting that they share because he was not adding two bedrooms.

By the time they were done, and Erica was walking him back to his office, he was feeling a bit better.

She lightly squeezed his waist before she left and whispered into his ear right before lightly pecking his cheek, “Don’t fuck it up.”

He snorted and hugged her right back and returned the gesture.

“I’ll try not to,” he replied with a fake put-upon look, and she gave him a wry smile in return before turning around and heading back down the street.

It was the day before the Christmas party, and Stiles was running through the backyard of Mrs. Newton’s house in the middle of the night, trying his hardest to not get caught by the nosy old lady who had a tendency to spy on her neighbors through her back windows. He had found the lamia. Which wasn’t a lamia. Instead, it was a rogue were-coyote, and Stiles was looking like an idiot with dirt-stained jeans with the left leg completely soaked through. He had almost cornered it a few houses down, near a bird bath in someone else’s backyard, but then it had bolted at the last second and he now had a ruined pair of pants.

He panted, trying to catch his breath. Sure, he was fitter than he used to be, but he’d been chasing it for over an hour at that point.

Bent over at the waist, still catching his breath, Stiles begrudgingly pulled out his small pouch of mountain ash, hating that he had to use it, but knowing that it was necessary.

“Okay, you little fucker,” he muttered, pulling out the smallest amount needed because he hated wasting it. “I’m going to track you properly and find your goddamn den if it’s the last thing I do, because you are seriously ruining my night.”

He closed his eyes, concentrated, and then let out a trickle of it from between his first finger and thumb…and let out a sigh of relief as it glowed slightly and drifted in a straight line back through the backyards until it headed for the woods. He followed it, letting out small amounts each time he ran out of glowing ash to follow, and was grateful that he’d decided to wear his boots as he ended up going deep into the woods just beyond the Hale property.

He followed it to a small den where he found a young boy, no more than ten, curled up back in the corner of his roughshod den. He was wearing only a small pair of blue shorts, the rest of his body covered in dirt and grime, and small bones littered the ground around him; what was left of the pets.

He seemed to be shaking, so Stiles gently reached out with one hand and said, “Hey, kid, I’m not here to hurt you…are you just hungry?” he asked and was taken aback when bright gold eyes snapped up to meet his.

The boy then nodded.

Making a quick decision, Stiles helped him out of his den and put his own jacket around the boy’s shoulders and walked him back to his house.

As soon as he’d settled him down, gotten him into some clean clothes and gotten him some food, he started to feel less anxious. However, just as the kid (Lance, he had told him in a voice barely above a whisper) was finally settled, he heard the front door open, so he quickly went to cut off whoever it was…and his eyes went wide when he saw that it was Derek.

“Where is he?” the alpha growled, his eyes flashing red, and Stiles stopped him with a hand on his chest, and said, “Whoa, whoa, whoa, big guy! It’s not what you think! It’s a kid!” he hissed, glancing over his shoulder, trying to keep his voice down, unsure of how much the young were-coyote could hear. “His name’s Lance and he’s only around ten and he was only going after people’s pets because it was easier for him to hunt and get food…I think he’s been abandoned…”

Stiles watched as Derek went from full-metal-alpha to suddenly looking worried, his brow furrowed and his eyes glancing back towards where he could obviously smell the kid was, back in the kitchen.

“Abandoned? Who would do that to a kid?”

“Some pretty shitty people, that’s who,” Stiles replied, noticing how Derek’s entire body language had shifted from attack-mode to protective-alpha mode.

He went silent and watched as Derek seemed to be listening in on the kid and then couldn’t help but ask, “So…sense anything wrong with him?” and Derek shook his head and answered, “No, just…he smells like anxiety. I think he’s been alone a long time. But he only just got here. He doesn’t smell like the preserve,” he commented. “More like…diesel.”

At that, Stiles nodded and said, “Probably sneaking onto long-distance hauling trucks. Easy to hide on and gets you plenty of miles away from a previous hunting ground. Smart kid.”

Derek nodded as well, and they stood there for a moment in the front foyer, Stiles’ hand still on Derek’s chest. He seemed to realize what he was doing and pulled it back, rubbing it on the thighs of his jeans, and then Derek looked at him, gave him a once over, and he snorted.

“What happened to you?”

Stiles rolled his eyes.

“I was chasing after a were-coyote in the middle of the night and a birdbath accosted me, that’s what happened,” he quipped, just remembering the clinging wetness of the left side of his jeans. He absently tugged at it and said, “Gotta say, that kid is fast. Faster than you, that’s for sure,” he added, knowing it would irritate the alpha.

True to form, Derek gave him a look, his equivalent of a bitch-face, and Stiles smirked, but then asked him on a more serious note, “Hey, can you watch after him? I’ll introduce you two, but I need to go upstairs and change because this is starting to seriously chafe…”

Derek nodded, and Stiles walked back into the kitchen with the alpha right behind his shoulder and cautiously approached the table, silently grateful that his dad was on the night shift.

“Hey, Lance…this is Derek. He’s a werewolf, he’s an alpha, and he’s my friend,” he softly explained, putting his hand carefully in front of the bowl of cereal that he was eating. “I don’t want to leave you alone, just yet, so would it be okay if he spends some time with you while I go and change out of these wet and dirty clothes?”

Lance looked back up at him with his now hazel eyes, his gaze slightly confused, and nodded.

“Okay, then.”

He motioned for Derek to sit down across from him and went upstairs and quickly stripped out of his ruined clothes and hopped into the shower. He cleaned out the grime, rinsed off as best he could, and as soon as he was out of the shower, before he had even put on any clothes, he threw a towel around his waist and went and checked the missing persons database on his work laptop, putting in the first name Lance and looking for kids around his age. He couldn’t have come from nowhere.

While it searched, he threw on sweats, an academy shirt, and ran his fingers through his hair, drying it as best he could, ignoring the fact that his stomach had flipped when he’d seen Derek look at the kid with such soft affection that it had made his heart ache.

God, he’d be a great dad.

His computer dinged, and he hopped over on one foot, pulling a sock over the other one, and squinted as he looked at the information that had popped up onto the screen.

Lance Santiago. Thirteen years old, missing for the last nine months ago from Ogunquit, Maine. Parents murdered in a home invasion, no other living relatives.

Swallowing around the knot that had formed in his throat, Stiles pulled up the police report from the home invasion and closed his eyes for a brief second at what he saw on the screen in front of him…and then opened them again and made himself look at the crime scene photos in the way that the academy had trained him to.

Each of their necks had been viciously ripped open, and the coroner’s report had said that the intruders had used several different tools to make the marks, but he knew what they really were: they were from the claws of a werewolf. And the kid had apparently witnessed the whole thing, but then had inexplicably escaped from the foster home that they had put him in. They had tried to find him for the first three months, but then had given up, and now he was here, in Beacon Hills.

He let out a long sigh and headed back downstairs and stilled in the doorway to the kitchen…

Derek was flicking pieces of cereal in Lance’s face and Lance was smiling and laughing and throwing cereal right back at him while Lance was talking in rapid-fire Spanish and Stiles was baffled when Derek was speaking fluently right back at him, grinning almost the entire time. The alpha had taken off his jacket and thrown it over the back of his chair and sat there in just a dark red sweater with the sleeves rolled up, eyes sparkling, lips effortlessly wrapping around the foreign syllables, while Sam chattered excitedly right back at him.

It was like something out of a movie.

He watched them for a moment longer and then said, “Hey, you two, quit making a mess,” and Lance looked up, wide-eyed, but Derek just shook his head and said, “It’s no worse than what you do.”

The kid still seemed scared for a moment, but then Derek reached out his hand and put it on his shoulder and said, “Está bien, Lance. Está bien.”

He then stood up and walked over to Stiles and said in a low voice as they both moved closer to the fridge, away from the table, “He knows some English, but not much. I can speak with him, fine, and he seems to trust me. So, if it’s easier for you and your dad, he can stay with me and the pack, if you’d like.”

Okay, so maybe Stiles just fell a little bit more in love with the man.

He nodded.

“It’s a good idea but be careful. I found him on file, and he’s gone through a pretty bad trauma. If anyone can help, though, it’d be you guys,” he conceded, though a little wary to have him out of his sight for too long, the kid’s dark brown hair flopping into his eyes and reminding Stiles of just how young and vulnerable he was.

He then looked at Derek and said, “Uh, when did you learn Spanish, by the way?”

Derek ducked his eyes, not quite meeting them, and said, “Uh, I, uh…I started to learn as a kid. Mom and dad insisted. I kept up with it over the years, mainly because of the other packs down south, but…yeah. It comes in handy a lot.”

He seemed thoroughly embarrassed at being put on the spot, so Stiles dragged his eyes away from him, looked back over at Lance who was finally finishing his cereal, and asked, “Think the pack will like him?”

The alpha smiled.

“When we were talking, I found out he loves Star Wars. I think he and Isaac and Liam will get along really well. Boyd is more of a Trekkie, but they’ll get along,” he said, looking at the kid with a soft, almost find look. “It seems we’ve got another mouth to feed for Christmas.” As he said that, however, his eyes went wide and he said, “Oh, shit. The party. Tomorrow night.”

“Well, tonight, really,” Stiles supplied, looking at the time on the microwave. Two-thirty-six in the morning.

Derek rolled his head on his neck and said, “I don’t want the kid to have his first night with the pack all alone, I shouldn’t do that to him. I can call Erik and tell him that I can’t come to the--”

“Hold up there, big guy,” Stiles interjected, putting a hand to his shoulder. “You have to go to that thing, and you know it. They personally invited you, and, as much as even I hate to say it, you need to make good with these guys so that they can see just how valuable you are. You’ve got a pack to feed, buddy, and even if you do already have a shit ton of money, I know you care about this job, and I think Lance can handle one night alone with the pack. It’s a Friday night, right? They can order in a few pizzas, watch some movies…he’ll probably feel more comfortable around some weres closer to his own age, anyway,” he added, trying to make Derek see sense.

Derek looked at the kid and then back at Stiles. And then back at the kid, who was now looking at the two of them with those wide, hazel eyes of his, his brow slightly furrowed as if he was trying to understand what they were saying about him. Derek looked at Stiles one last time.

He then walked over to Lance and said something in Spanish that Stiles didn’t catch, Lance said something back to him, and then they both smiled.

Derek grabbed his jacket from where he left it and then said, “Okay, that settles it. I’m taking him back to the house for the night, he’s going to spend the day with the pack…and then I am coming over to pick you up at seven, Stiles.”

He then threw him a smile and said, “By the way, it’s dressy casual…but don’t wear the reindeer tie, please, I beg of you,” and Stiles grinned.

“But it goes with everything, Derek!”

He rolled his eyes and lightly tugged on Lance’s shoulder, who followed him to the front door. Stiles gave the kid’s shoulder one last squeeze and then watched as the two of them walked down the road, heading off in the direction of the Hale house. It was a good fit for him, Stiles thought to himself, wondering how he was going to deal with the fact that Derek was obviously already attached to the kid. Lance needed to not have anyone looking for him…and Stiles might have a solution for that.

Chapter 2

After getting four hours of sleep, Stiles was back down in the kitchen rifling through the cabinets, this time with his dad giving him judgmental looks over the edge of his newspaper.

“You’re telling me you went after a were-coyote on your own last night?” he said in a tone that Stiles was all too familiar with.

“Yes, but I wasn’t in any danger, pops,” he griped, finally finding the pop-tarts, ignoring the second judgmental look that he got as he pulled one out of the foil and took a bite out of it. “This kid is thirteen years old and no danger to people, he was just hungry, alright? The pets were easy hunting.”

The sheriff put down the paper, reached for his coffee and asked, “You say he’s been missing for nine months?”

Stiles nodded as he dropped into the chair across from him.

“Yeah. No family to speak of, just…a lot of horrible trauma.” His dad nodded. “I’m just glad that we found him first before anyone else did. Derek and his pack are a good fit for him, right now,” he thought out loud. “If anyone’s going to be able to help Lance figure out how to deal with it all, it’ll be those four and Derek.”

His dad nodded, took a long sip of his coffee and then said, “So, he’s staying with Derek and the pack. That’s good, I guess, but it’s not a permanent solution, you know that, right?”

Stiles gave his dad a look and reached across and stole a sip of his dad’s coffee, ignoring the glare that he gave him as he did.

“Yeah, I know it’s not a solution, but don’t worry about it, I’m already looking into what I can do,” he explained, handing his father’s coffee back to him, pushing it across the table. “I looked into the criminal file of what happened to his parents and it looks like they never even had any suspects for the murders, and if I let him go back, he’ll just end up with a foster family who doesn’t know about the supernatural and I can’t do that to the kid. I figure both of his parents were just like he is, and so the attack was most likely something personal, which means that there’s a werewolf out there looking to hunt this kid down and kill him. Lance most likely only got away because of how fast he is. I don’t think even Derek could keep up with him, even if he wanted to,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling worn out and wishing he could figure out how to help him.

They shared a look, both of them aware of just how hard it was going to be for the kid unless they could make sure that he was safe. So, Stiles came to decision that he would warn the pack that someone might be tracking the kid, even with everything that he’d done to get away from the werewolf that had killed his parents.

Stiles pulled another pop-tart out of the packet and took a bite, and then said, with his mouth full, “By the way, going to a Christmas party with Derek tonight, so don’t wait up,” and at that, his dad’s brow shot up and he threw him a smirk.

“You and Derek, huh?” he drawled, taking another sip of his coffee, and Stiles rolled his eyes and stood back up, saying, “Oh, don’t you start, pops. It’s not like that. Derek’s coworkers are convinced that I’m his boyfriend because he’s always talking about me because of the time we spend together on the weekends with my emissary duties. Complaining, mostly. He can’t exactly tell them the truth, so he’s been dragged into taking me to the party as his date. It’s not real, it’s just to keep the higher ups happy.”

His dad nodded, not saying anything more, but Stiles could see the faint humor that still lingered on the corner of his lips and he knew that his dad was probably going to be laughing about the situation for a long time, getting a kick out of his seeing his son like this.

He shrugged it off and went and got dressed and headed off to the office.

As soon as walked inside, Agent Katherine Richards greeted him with a coffee and a cheery, “Morning, Agent Stilinski!”

“For the last time, Katie, if you don’t start calling me Stiles, I’m going to put you on filing duty for the next two weeks,” he playfully griped, grabbing the coffee that she gave to him every single morning without fail. He then yawned as he asked, “Now, did you get me a copy of that file that I e-mailed you about this morning?”

She gave him a look and said, “You mean that e-mail that you sent me at five am? Yeah, I did, and you’re welcome,” she said with an arch tone, tossing it onto his desk as they both walked into his office. “Let’s just say that the local authorities in Maine don’t like it when someone from the FBI wants their files for a case that they couldn’t solve. Something about it making them look bad, I guess,” she mused, leaning her hip against his desk and throwing him a knowing grin. “Why’d you want it?”

Knowing he could trust her, he said, “I found the kid.”

Her eyes went wide.

“You mean the kid who saw who killed his parents? He’s the only witness, Stiles! Where did you find him?”

He trusted her, but not that much, so he avoided answering by instead saying, “That’s not important, what’s important is that he’s safe and secured and we don’t have to worry about him right now. Now, I need to make sure that I am out of here by five today, because I have to go and be a fake boyfriend for a friend of mine,” he explained and was amused when Katie’s eyes lit up.

“Fake boyfriend?” she repeated, her tone sounding all too eager. “Oooh, is it for that girl that you have lunch with a couple of times a week? The stunning blonde with legs for days that looks like she should be walking a Victoria’s Secret runway?”

Stiles chuckled at that apt description of Erica, knowing she would love it, but shook his head.

“No, no, not her. She’s already got a boyfriend,” he quickly said. “This is for my friend, Derek. He got dragged into it and so I’m trying to help make it a little easier on him,” he explained, already turning his attention to the file that she’d given him.

Katie gave him a look…and then said in a carefully measured tone, “Is this the Derek that you mentioned before?”

Stiles glared up at her, annoyed with himself for forgetting that he’d mentioned the alpha more than a few times to his own coworkers, and said, “Yes, it’s that Derek. No, we’re not actually dating, and no, it’s not anything serious. I’m just covering his ass for his bosses,” to which she retorted, “Yeah, I bet you’re covering his ass.”

“Excuse me?”

She laughed and the patted the file that she put on his desk and said, “As fun as this conversation has been, don’t think you’ve distracted me from this, Stiles. While I am incredibly curious about this Derek guy, I am not forgetting that you just found the key witness in a brutal murder that has yet to be solved. You’ll bring me in if you need help, right?” she asked, looking and sounding genuinely concerned, and Stiles nodded and patted her hand.

“I promise, Agent Richards.”

With that, she left the room, and Stiles went back to his work. He dug through the file to figure out exactly who to contact and how to keep everything intact so that they wouldn’t find out…while also keeping a close eye on the time, making sure that he didn’t work too hard. He needed to be able to leave by five so that he would be ready to go by seven.

Of course, things didn’t go as planned. He shot off a quick message to the pack, did some paperwork, and then the next thing he knew, he was looking at the clock and it said six thirty and he was twenty minutes from home.

Shit.

Slipping the file into his bag, he ran out of the building, shouting a quick, “See you tomorrow!” over his shoulder as he did, and probably broke a couple of laws as he raced home, trying to figure out how many he could get away with breaking to make sure that he had enough time to shower.

He ran into his house as quickly as he could, grateful that his dad had already left for his night shift about an hour before, and then scrambled up the stairs and threw his bag onto his desk and looked into his closet helplessly, trying to figure just what the hell dressy casual was.

However, before he could even look in his closet, let alone get a shower like he’d originally planned, he heard a knock at the front door.

Shit.

He turned and ran back down the stairs and as he swung the door open, the first words out of his mouth were, “Please, please, please don’t be mad, but I am not dressed, yet, I only just got home, and…why are you looking at me like that?”

Derek was staring at him, mouth slightly open, looking like he was struggling to catch his breath. Stiles looked down at himself, trying to see what was wrong, wondering if he had dropped food or coffee on himself earlier in the day without noticing, but only saw his usual work clothes: a white dress shirt, the top couple of buttons undone, his rumpled black pants and jacket, military issued FBI boots, along with his shoulder holster, which was slightly askew because he’d already removed his weapon, and he was baffled as to why Derek was staring at him.

“Uh, Derek?” he said, snapping his fingers, and the alpha shook his head and said, “Yeah, I’m…you’re fine. What you’re wearing is just fine.”

Stiles looked back down at himself a second time, baffled, and then looked at what Derek was wearing and couldn’t help but smile and say as he noticed his outfit, “And you are looking like a dad going to a PTA meeting, oh my god, are you wearing loafers?” he exclaimed, unable to stifle a giggle as he saw the black leather on the man’s feet. Derek rolled his eyes, but before he could say anything, Stiles kept going.

“Not only loafers, but you’re wearing a belt that matches them, and is that a tailored sport coat that doesn’t quite match your pants with a pink shirt? Dude,” he put his hand on his shoulder, “I thought someone like you with a ton of money would be wearing Armani or something. But this…?”

He gestured up and down at his outfit and Derek glared at him, no longer staring at Stiles’ clothes and bit out, “I’m not Peter, I don’t care about expensive clothes. Now, get your ass in my car so we can go already. Like I said, what you’re wearing is fine. Though you might want to lose the shoulder holster,” he added, looking at his shoulder distractedly.

Stiles glanced down and shrugged, stepped back into the hallway to take off the holster and grab his phone and house keys, and then followed Derek out to his car. He still had the Camaro.

As soon as they had pulled out onto the main road, he asked, “So…Erik’s your boss, right?”

Derek nodded, eyes focused on the road.

“Yep. Good man, great architect. His partner’s name is Geoff, and they’ve been running the architecture firm for over fifteen years now. And they’re looking to take on a third partner,” he added lightly, and Stiles knew exactly what he meant.

“So, tonight is about showing off how amazing you are?” he said, trying to ease the tension that he could feel coming from him, but then saw his hands tighten on the wheel, so he quickly backpedaled with, “I’m not going to make fun of you tonight, Derek, I promise. I mean, I knew this was kind of serious, but I had no idea that you were trying to make partner. Now that I know, I will make sure to be on my best behavior, no matter what. Only good things, I promise.”

Derek’s fingers released their death grip on the wheel and Stiles breathed out a sigh of relief. Now that he knew just how serious he was about the evening, he quickly put aside any thoughts that he had of telling some of the man’s more embarrassing stories, instead focused on how he could show his bosses just how amazing he was.

When they pulled up the driveway to the house, Stiles let out a low whistle.

“Holy shit, they got money,” he said, slightly awed at the large, A-frame cabin that stretched out into one of those cabin McMansions that he’d only ever seen on Hallmark movies.

Derek nodded, pulled up behind a black Rolls Royce, and put the Camaro in park and then let out a long, nervous breath, glancing up at the windows of the house apprehensively. From where they sat, Stiles could hear the faint strains of holiday music on piano and could see the glimmer of Christmas lights in the windows. He watched as Derek swallowed, looking more nervous than he’d ever seen him before, so Stiles reached out and put his hand over his, trying to calm him down.

Derek’s eyes suddenly dropped to where Stiles had his fingers wrapped around his…and then took another breath and lightly squeezed his hand.

“Okay. I can do this,” he said, still sounding nervous, and Stiles corrected him, “We can do this, Der. Trust me. I’m going to be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

At that, the tension was broken and the alpha chuckled and shook his head and said, “Yeah, well you better, or else I’m gonna make your life a living hell. Now,” he squeezed his hand a second time, “How about we go on inside? Honey.”

Stiles let out a sound that was close to a laugh and gave him a fake, sweet look and said, “Of course, Der Bear.”

Derek groaned and Stiles grinned.

They pulled apart long enough to get out of the car, and then Stiles plastered himself to Derek’s side, tucking his right arm through Derek’s left and leaned into him as much as he could, enjoying every single second of being able to touch Derek as much as he’d always wanted to.

Just before they walked through the front door, though, Derek turned his head just enough to look Stiles in the eye and said, “You ready to be affectionate with me? ‘Cause as soon as we walk in there, they are going to be expecting us to act like a couple. So…you going to be okay with that?” and Stiles scoffed, arched an eyebrow at him and said, “Dude, listen to my heartbeat as I say these words: this is the best idea that you’ve ever come up and I can’t wait to pretend to be your boyfriend.”

He watched in amusement as Derek’s eyes widened at hearing the honesty and Stiles grinned and said, “Now take me inside, honeybuns.”

Derek laughed and pulled the door open, moving out of Stiles’ grip so that he could put his hand on his lower back to usher him through the door ahead of him, and Stiles preened under the intimate touch, wishing with all of his heart that it was real.

Erica’s words echoed in his head… I know he has feelings for you, Stiles. So, don’t fuck this up.

He swallowed, feeling his first twinge of nervousness.

He could do this.

The foyer alone was intimidating. The ceilings were, of course, vaulted, and swept up nearly twenty feet. He let Derek move him to the main room, where a whole lot of people in dressy clothes mingled. Before Stiles could take it all in, however, a man in a dark blue sport coat with a nicely trimmed beard walked over to them and said in a loud, friendly voice, “Hale! So glad you made it!” and then reached out and pulled Derek into a half hug.

Stiles watched in amusement as Derek tried to return it, though it was obvious to him that he was uncomfortable with it, patting him on the shoulder and saying, “Thanks for inviting me, Erik.”

Suddenly, Erik pulled back and said, “Oh, right, I forgot…no hugs. Sorry about that, just caught up in the holiday cheer. Is this the boyfriend we’ve heard so much about?” he asked, pointing at Stiles with the glass in his hand, looking curious.

Before Derek could say a word, Stiles stepped forward and said, “Stiles Stilinski, pleased to meet you.”

Erik gave him a solid handshake, looked him up and down and then looked back over at Derek and said, “You have good taste, Hale. Also,” he turned his attention back to Stiles, “Pleased to meet you. Feel free to tell us as many embarrassing stories about this man as possible. He’s so closed-lipped around the office, it’s a miracle that we even knew that he had a boyfriend. Of course,” he said giving a short chuckle, “That wasn’t too hard to figure out considering how much he talked about you.”

He lifted his glass to him in acknowledgement and Stiles couldn’t help but share a smile and say, “Yeah, well, not too surprised. I am a big part of his life, after all,” and gave Derek a shit-eating grin.

Derek just shook his head and reached over and gently tugged at his hand and Stiles found it remarkably easy to fall in next to him and let him lead him into the rest of the room, where he was introduced to at least twenty different people in under ten minutes, and he was pretty proud of the fact that he could remember all of their names.

Part of his training as an FBI agent was to be able to hold onto a lot of information in a short amount of time, and it was finally coming in handy.

Eventually, he let himself be split off from Derek and watched with a fond smile as Erik and Geoff flanked him on either side and started to talk with him in hushed tones, both of them smiling, while Derek attempted to smile, though he still looked like he had just been thrown into the lion’s den.

Stiles stifled a laugh at the sight, took a sip of the apple cider in his hand, and was taken off guard when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“You must be Stiles, the boyfriend,” a feminine voice said, turning him around, and he found himself levelling his eyes at a lovely woman wearing a dark violet dress, and thick blonde hair spilled over shapely shoulders, showing off her stunning warm complexion and blue eyes. “I’m Jane Caruso, I work in Interior Design at the firm. My desk is right across from Derek’s,” she said, and Stiles could see the way that she was assessing him, a sharp glint in her eye as she looked him up and down.

He took another sip of his drink, making her wait for his response, putting her on the defensive (using his FBI training, yet again) and saw her shift uncomfortably as she waited for him to speak.

Finally, he said, “Yeah, I’m the boyfriend,” and extended his hand and gave her a polite handshake.

Not missing a beat, she held his hand for a moment longer than necessary and then leaned in and, glancing at him and then shooting a look over at Derek as she asked conspiratorially, “So, how the hell did someone like you snag a specimen like him?”

Without hesitation, he pulled his hand back and replied, “Oh, we’ve known each other since high school,” and then looked down at his drink, smirked, and the looked back up at her and said, as if he was embarrassed (though far from it), “Actually, I was the one in high school. I was sixteen, he was twenty…things really didn’t start until after I graduated, of course, but…you know how these things go,” he finished, taking another sip of the cider, enjoying the way her eyes widened and she leaned slightly away from him.

He had to withhold a laugh when Jane then said, sounding completely off-balance, “Oh, that’s…so you two have known each other a long time, then.”

He nodded.

“Yeah. I mean, when we first met, we hated each other. I even got him arrested for something he didn’t do,” he said, laughing, looking over at Derek, knowing that the werewolf could hear every word of his conversation, and could see his jaw twitch, even from a distance, and he bit his lip, wondering how much he could get away with.

“You got him arrested?”

Stiles chuckled and then quickly amended, “Yeah, but I didn’t mean to. My dad can tell you what happened better than I can, anyway,” he said, knowing exactly what she was going to ask next.

“Your dad?” she asked predictably, and Stiles answered, “Yeah, the Sheriff. Noah Stilinski.” He threw her an easy smile, once more pleased at seeing her even more wary of him.

She then took a sip of her own cider and bit her lip…and after a moment she asked, “Son of the sheriff. That sounds like you had a lot of pressure on you growing up in Beacon Hills,” and he nodded, and then she said, obviously trying to throw him off balance once more, “What career path did you follow? Are you a deputy, on your way to follow in your dad’s footsteps?”

Jane then gave him a smug look and Stiles saw her once more eyeing Derek discreetly from the corner of her eye, and he withheld his idiotic grin and managed to maintain an almost bored tone as he answered, “Oh, no, local law enforcement wasn’t for me.” She smirked, looking like she’d won…and then he knocked her down with, “I’m a special agent for the FBI. We just started a new office right outside of Beacon Hills, and I run it with a few select agents. We cover mostly federal cases, but we help out the local law enforcement when they need it.”

He swore she went three shades paler and saw her almost choke on her sip and he shot a glance in his fake boyfriend’s direction and saw him roll his eyes up towards the ceiling, and Stiles knew that Derek was on the edge of coming over and pulling him away from her.

She managed to recover and then say, “You seem rather young for an FBI agent, let alone a special agent.”

He nodded, understanding, and explained, “I got into a training program right out of high school, so I did my schooling and training out at Quantico. Lot of work, but Derek was only a couple of hours away by train at NYU, so we made it work.”

He knew that Derek was still listening and felt a bit bad about saying it, but also thought it was a good reminder to the werewolf that he could have visited him and let him know he was alive.

Sure, it was petty, but ever since Stiles had found out, he’d felt like Derek had deliberately chosen to not contact him and it hurt.

He turned all of his attention to Jane, and gave her a smile as he said, “He’s kind of the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you know? I feel really lucky that we found each other when we did. I don’t think I would have gone into the FBI if I’d never met him,” he admitted, knowing that even from that distance, Derek could hear his heartbeat and how steady it was. “After getting him into so much trouble when I was in high school, like, so many times, I realized that I wanted to help innocent people stay out of trouble, so…I became a bit ambitious.”

At that, Jane seemed to soften a bit, giving him a hint of a smile, and then she commented, tapping her finger on the edge of her glass, “He does seem to bring the best out in people.”

Stiles nodded and smiled widely and said, unable to keep the pride from his tone, “He’s a hell of a great guy, and one of the best men I’ve ever known in my life.”

From where he stood, he could see Derek go a bit pink, and he smiled. Jane gave him one last look, said a polite goodbye, and then walked away back into the crowd, leaving Stiles to mingle with everyone else. He felt that he’d done a good job at keeping her at bay, so he turned up his charm as he mingled with the rest of Derek’s coworkers, finding out that a few of them knew Danny through a tech firm that the architects worked with.

Soon, he wasn’t even putting on any airs and was joking back and forth with a guy named Adam who worked security at the building, finding out that they were both die hard fans of DC and Marvel.

Right while they were in the middle of a discussion over the chemistry of Henry Cavill and Ben Affleck (which they both agreed was more than just platonic), Derek was right up behind him slipping an arm around his waist as if he’d done it a thousand times before, saying, “Please don’t tell me you’re talking about how Superman and Batman are gay for each other, again,” and Stiles grinned.

“Oh, we totally were, and we agree that Superman is definitely a bottom,” he admitted, and shared a laughing smile with Adam, who politely tipped his cup towards him and nodded in agreement.

Derek groaned and shook his head.

Stiles then asked, before he forgot, “So, how was it talking with Erik and Geoff?” and Derek let out a long sigh and Adam gave them both a knowing look, nodded and said, “Yeah, those two are intense. Amazingly brilliant, but intense. I’ll leave you two lovebirds, alone. See you at D&D night next Wednesday?” Adam asked as he stepped away, and Stiles nodded.

“Count on it, man!”

Derek shot him a look.

“D&D night? Do I want to know?”

Stiles gently nudged him with is elbow and said, “Dungeons and dragons, you plebe. Found out that they have a group that meets every week on Wednesdays, from seven to ten in the evening, and Danny is a part of it, too, so they invited me. It sounded like fun, so I said yes. Is, uh…is that a bad thing? Me making friends with people at your work?”

Derek opened his mouth as if to say something…but then he closed it.

And then he said, “No, not at all.”

There was a long moment of silence and then Stiles observed, “Uh, you still have your arm around my waist, Der…”

Derek’s eyes went wide, and it seemed that he was about to move, but then he just lightly squeezed Stiles’ hip and muttered, looking down at the cider in his hand, “Yeah, well…people are still here. Watching,” he added unnecessarily, unconsciously moving Stiles closer to him. He bit his lip, making sure not to point out what Derek was doing as he really didn’t want to stop it and wanted to savor the closeness for as long as he could, basking in the physical affection, even if it was fake.

Derek then said, “I noticed that you dealt with Jane. You handled that pretty well,” he said with a grin teasing at the corner of his lips.

Stiles chuckled.

“I totally got your back, Derek. She won’t be bothering you, anymore. Promise.”

He looked across the room, easily spotting her blonde hair and violet dress in the crowd…and made a sound of disbelief in the back of his throat as he saw her flirting with a pretty brunette in a blue dress. He nudged Derek a second time and discreetly pointed her out and snorted at the expression on Derek’s face.

And then he said, “Well…looks like I don’t have to worry about her, after all.”

Stiles laughed and let himself a little bit closer into Derek’s side, knowing that it wasn’t going to last forever. He saw several looks sent in their direction, but all of them were approving, as if they all liked Derek’s choice of boyfriend, and that made Stiles feel warm in his chest and wish even more that it was all real. Even though it wasn’t.

Still, as the evening progressed he became more and more comfortable with the way that he was allowed to reach out and touch the usually taciturn alpha, and he got to see Derek actually smile, and the first few times it was completely disorienting, but then he started to get used to it and was now determined to make sure that he was the one who was always making Derek smile, even if it was only as a friend, because it was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen.

It was really nice to see that most of the people that Derek worked with all seemed to like him, and they all seemed to like Stiles along with him, and it was rather refreshing to not have the usual side-eye that Stiles had seen in the past from people who looked down on ‘alternative’ lifestyles.

Eventually, the evening started to wind down and Stiles was grateful that Erik and Geoff had kept the gathering non-alcoholic, which meant that no one was stumbling outside, and everyone was safe to drive home.

He and Derek were the last two to leave, as it was nearly thirteen thirty, Erik and Geoff leading them to the front door, thanking them both for coming. When Geoff pulled the door open for them, however, Stiles was surprised to see that it was snowing, and that a good inch was already on the ground.

Derek didn’t seem the least bit phased and so Stiles quickly deduced that he’d been aware of it because of his werewolf senses.

“Oh, wow, it’s really coming down out there, isn’t it?” said Geoff, the tall, burly man leaning out the front door and looking up at the snow as it heavily fell, some of it landing on his head. He ducked back in, brushed it off his salt and pepper hair, and then remarked, sounding concerned, “Maybe it’s not all that safe to drive back. Derek, you have a Camaro, right?”

Stiles smiled when Derek nodded and then said politely, “Yes, but don’t worry, I have the snow tires on. I checked the weather before I came over tonight and knew what to expect.”

He then turned to Stiles and leaned in and pressed his lips to his temple and his left hand skated over Stiles’ hip, his thumb absently tracing the inside of his hipbone, an intimate gesture if he’d ever felt one, Stiles thought to himself.

“I’ll go get the car, you wait here,” Derek muttered, giving him a soft smile, and then he disappeared out into the snow-covered blackness, leaving Stiles to wait in the foyer with his two bosses, feeling even more off-kilter than before, butterflies suddenly flapping hard against the inside of his ribs.

Geoff chuckled at him and said, “Oh, I know that look. Totally besotted, am I right?”

Stiles shook his head, ducked his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck, and then responded with, “Oh, you know…can’t get enough of him, right?”

Erik smiled and said, “Considering you guys have been together for a while, it’s rather refreshing to see that the spark still seems to be there. Hale’s a great guy, and I can easily see him becoming a more important part of the company down the road.” Stiles heard what he was implying, and he couldn’t help but feel excited for Derek. Erik then added, “He really came through on our last project. He thinks outside of the box and we need that kind of mindset to keep us from getting too stagnant in our work.”

Stiles couldn’t help but comment, “Yeah, that’s Derek, alright. He’s good at seeing new perspectives.”

They both nodded back at him.

Before anything else could be said, Derek had pulled up to the front door and Stiles couldn’t help but grin as he bolted out of the car and jogged up the steps to where Stiles stood and offered him his arm. Stiles felt his cheeks warm, and so he quickly followed after him, relieved when he settled warm and only slightly damp into the passenger’s seat.

Derek shifted the car into gear and as he navigated the roads that were just starting to get slippery, Stiles said, “Hey, so, Erik and Geoff pretty much told me without telling me that they’re definitely going to make you a partner at some point,” and was confused when Derek just simply hummed, “Oh, that’s nice,” his gaze still focused on the snow dusted road in front of him, and Stiles did a double take at his reaction, wondering what was going on with him.

What the heck? The whole point of Stiles going with him was to make sure that they made a good impression on the partners, and Derek was acting like he didn’t care.

Trying to get his attention, he reached out and squeezed Derek’s knee, and was amused when all Derek did was take one hand off the wheel to reach down and link his fingers with Stiles’.

He tried to brush it off like it was nothing, even though his heartrate had just jumped up to twice its normal speed, and said, “Not that the hand-holding isn’t great, Der, but…you do realize that we’re not back at the party anymore, right?” and it was rather amusing to see Derek glance down at his leg and then suddenly try to decide whether or not he should let go, and then finally say as he unlinked his fingers and patted Stiles on the back of the hand, “Sorry, just…habit already, I guess.”

At that, Stiles chuckled and couldn’t help but quip, “Aww, only one night and you’re addicted to me? Not that I blame you,” he drawled. “I was an amazing boyfriend, tonight. In fact, according to most of the people I talked to at the party, I am certifiably the best boyfriend ever,” he added, discreetly drawing his hand back over to his side.

Derek rolled his eyes and looked annoyed, but Stiles saw the smile at the corner of his mouth.

Deciding to push it a little bit further, he said, “Doug, the guy who helped with the electrical on your last project, said that you talked about me just a few days ago, saying something about my amazing test scores at the Academy?”

The alpha immediately countered with, “Hey, no, I was talking about how it was a freakin’ miracle that you even got into the Academy! Let’s clarify that,” he added, pointing a finger in the air.

Stiles just shook his head.

“Nah, you like me too much to complain about me,” and Derek bantered back, “Correction: you annoy me enough that I complain about you enough at work that they all think that I’m dating you.”

He laughed a second time and knocked his knee into his door and said, “They probably just think that you sound like an irritated boyfriend. Like, you complain all the time about me, but the way that you complain implies that you actually still really like me…”

His voice drifted, and then Derek said after a long moment, “I was ready to kill you tonight when I heard you tell Jane that you once got me arrested.” Stiles quickly went to defend himself, but then Derek cut him off with, “If I wasn’t so scared of her, I would have walked over there and dragged you out by the back your neck and tossed you out into the snow.”

Stiles snorted.

“I’m sorry, but I just find it hilarious that you, mister werewolf alpha, someone who has stared down an alpha pack and just about all of the scariest creatures that have ever gone bump in the night…are scared of a woman.”

Derek gave him a look, but turned his attention back to the road as he said, “You met Jane, right? She’s worse than an alpha pack all on her own,” and Stiles made a noise of agreement and said, “Okay, okay, no argument there. She was pretty terrifying…but I think I handled her pretty well, if I do say so myself.”

Derek nodded.

“Sure did. Thanks for that, by the way.”

Stiles waved his hand and said, “Ah, don’t mention it. It was kinda fun, actually. Never seen someone go pale so fast in my life, and I’ve intimidated wanted criminals in holding cells. This was definitely more fun,” he said with a grin.

He leaned further back in his seat and the two of them fell into a comfortable silence as Derek drove the rest of the way to his house. Stiles, though still a little bit worried about the snow, found his thoughts drifting to the young were-coyote staying with Derek’s pack, and wondered what they were going to be doing for Christmas, since it was only two days away. He thought about asking, but one glance at Derek’s profile had him questioning himself, so he said nothing.

The Camaro pulled up in front of the house and Stiles glanced at his phone and couldn’t help but say, “Hey, you even got me home before midnight. Such a gentleman.”

Derek rolled his eyes, but the effect was ruined by the way his lips twisted up into a fond smile as he did.

Stiles grinned, feeling smug, but then Derek reached across the seat, his shoulder and upper back pressed firmly into Stiles’ chest as he opened his door for him, and said, “Get out before I toss you and your glass slippers out into the snow, Stilinski.”

Once he felt his heartbeat pick back up (because he was positive that it had stopped when Derek was pressed up against him), he nodded and got out of the car. Before he closed the door, however, he braced his hands against and leaned down and said, “In all honesty, I had a great time tonight, Derek. I’ll gladly be your fake boyfriend anytime you need it, man. Just give me at least a few days’ notice and I’ll be the best fake boyfriend ever.”

Derek gave him a look, using just his eyebrows, and Stiles quickly pulled back.

“Alright, alright! I’m going! Drive safe!”

He slammed the door and then jogged up the front walk and sighed in equal parts relief and disappointment when he closed the front door behind him, leaning against it as soon as he stepped inside.

It had been both the best and worst night of his life. He had been surrounded by Derek’s scent the entire evening, as well as his touch, and the memories of those soft, intimate touches would linger with him for a long time afterwards…but at the same time, it had been a living hell, knowing that the alpha was only doing it because he had made a promise to his bosses.

“God, you royally fucked up this time, didn’t you, Stiles?” he muttered to himself, dragging himself up the stairs to his room.

Just as he stepped inside, however, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Who the hell was texting him at midnight?

He looked at his glowing screen and groaned.

Erica.

He swiped the screen and looked at her message and smiled, despite his annoyance, when he read, did u kiss him under the mistletoe? if u didn’t, I will totally kill u and blame it on Liam. bdubs, the new kid, Lance, is a total sweetheart, but super scared of me…, and in a second text, he likes everyone else, tho, and Stiles’ finger hovered over the screen as he thought about how to answer her.

Finally, he texted back, didn’t kiss him, but there was groping of a sort. glad Lance is getting along with everyone. give him time, he’ll love you, too, I’m sure of it.

He then put his phone down long enough for him to strip down and then flopped on top of his covers in his boxers and the undershirt that he’d worn under his dress shirt all day and that entire evening, settling in for at least a half hour of texting. He could have showered, and probably should have, but he didn’t want to remove the smell of Derek’s cologne, just yet, and he knew that made him come across as weird and possibly slightly creepy, but he didn’t care. He lifted part of the shirt to his face and took a deep breath.

It smelled like pine and woodsmoke, with just a faint hint of spearmint and apple cider. The scent was permanently etched into his memory.

A minute or so later, Erica texted back.

how could u not kiss him??? r u mentally ill?? he dressed up for u!!! he even wore nice smelling stuff, and Stiles snorted at the way she texted. She was a year older than him, and still texted like a thirteen-year-old girl and he found it simultaneously annoying yet endearing.

He waited a moment, trying to figure out what to say, and then typed back, can you just not push it? he was a total gentleman and I helped with a couple of problems. but he doesn’t see me that way, woman, my life is not a hallmark christmas movie, and he smiled at his witty response. He made himself more comfortable on the bed and started to flip through a couple of other apps as he waited for her reply, knowing she would probably blow up at him in spectacular fashion, as she usually did when he pushed her buttons like that.

So, he wasn’t all too surprised when she texted back a few minutes later with, but it *could* be a hallmark christmas movie! just a little nudge and u 2 could be fucking like bunnies in ur childhood bedroom on christmas morning!

Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Seriously, Erica?” he muttered to himself as he finished off the conversation with, thank you so much for that disturbing image of my childhood bed, with that, i am going to bed. night.

His phoned dinged one more time.

Coward.

He rolled his eyes again, but then turned off his phone and settled in to go to sleep. He didn’t have work in the morning, and so he was going to sleep in as late he wanted to.

Chapter 3

He slogged down to breakfast at nearly eleven and his dad shot him an amused look as he poured him a cup of coffee, and then said as he handed it to him, “Late night?”

Stiles heard the tone in his voice and rolled his eyes and said, “For your information, I was back by midnight, and I went to bed shortly after. There was no drinking, just a lot of socializing,” he explained, and then yelped as his dad suddenly took the mug away from him.

“What the hell was that for?” he said, his voice far too high-pitched for his liking, and his dad shot him yet another look and replied, “I only gave it to you because I thought that you were hungover. Since you’re not, you can pour your own coffee,” and then went and sat down at the table with a plate loaded with food that he definitely shouldn’t be eating, but Stiles couldn’t find the energy within himself to argue about it, so he decided to simply ignore it and get on with what was left of his morning.

Just as he was finishing breakfast, his dad asked, “Have you figured out what to do with the kid?”

Stiles let out an aggrieved sigh.

“More or less, yeah.”

He pushed his mug to the side and explained what he had gotten done the day before.

“Instead of trying to go through official channels, I dug through the werewolf leads and think I found who the werewolf was that killed Lance’s parents,” he said, and he saw his dad’s eyes widen in shock that he’d found it out so quickly. Stiles really didn’t want to explain the dirty details, so he waved a hand and said, “Yeah, I know, it’s freaky that I found it out so quick, but let’s just say that emissaries keep track of that sort of thing, and there aren’t that many packs left east of the Rockies, so it wasn’t all that hard to find out.”

He rolled his head on his neck and added, “Ever since Deaton left, he left me a list of emissaries around the country that I could contact should the need arise, and I managed to find out that there isn’t a pack in the northeast…but that there is one just over the border in Canada. So, I did a little bit of searching and think I found the rogue werewolf. His name’s Reynault.”

His dad simply gave him a long look and then said, sounding nervous, “Please don’t tell me you’re going after him yourself,” and Stiles quickly shook his head.

“Oh, hell no. Don’t worry about me, pops. He’s already being tracked by the pack in Tennessee. Talked to Heather, their emissary,” he said, picking at the edge of the table with his thumb, “And she said that they’re closing in on him. Apparently, Reynault is a rogue from a Canadian pack that used to have land that went down into the northeastern part of the U.S. and he is determined to keep it as part of the original land, though no one else from his previous pack approved of it.”

His dad then leaned forward, wrapping his hands around his coffee mug, and said, “Aren’t territory disputes meant for emissaries? Like, what you’re supposed to be doing? I mean, why go after a couple and their kid? They weren’t even werewolves. What’s the logic behind that?”

Stiles let out a long sigh and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Werecoyotes’ territory constantly shifts from place to place, unlike werewolves, who settle and put down roots.” He began to motion with his hands, and said, “Usually the packs ignore them because they’re so transitory, nomadic, and tolerate them being on their land without any issues…but Reynault has it in his head that they were infringing on land that belonged to his pack. Apparently, the Quebec pack found out what he did and kicked him out. He didn’t care.”

The silence that stretched between them was tense, and Stiles knew that his dad was about to say something about staying safe.

He wasn’t disappointed.

“Kid, I know that you’re an agent in the FBI and an emissary and all that amazing stuff that makes me incredibly proud to be your father, but this…this sounds really, really dangerous.”

Without missing a beat, Stiles said, “That’s why I’m handing it off to the Tennessee pack. Heather, their emissary, is going to help them take care of it. She’s an old hand at this sort of thing, and I trust that she can catch him and put him in his place. They have a good alpha, too. Rachel Heartwood. They’ll find him.”

His dad nodded, and then stood and moved to walk out of the kitchen, but then paused and stood next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder, and then squeezed it tightly.

“You’re doing good, kid,” he murmured, and then walked out, leaving Stiles with a faint smile on his lips.

They weren’t huge on affection, but Stiles knew how his father showed how much he loved him and that was more than enough. He smiled to himself and then got up and put together a plate from the leftovers of what his dad had already cooked. It was nearly noon, so he considered it a brunch, so he purposely decided to finish off the rest of the bacon so that there was nothing left for his dad. He didn’t need to clog his arteries anymore and Stiles wasn’t going to let him put himself in an early grave.

Just as he was finishing up his food, his mind still flashing back to the night before, remembering every touch on his skin…his phone buzzed.

He checked the screen.

Erica.

Oh, boy, he wasn’t sure if he had the energy for her on the Eve before Christmas…but he answered it, anyway, immediately regretting saying hello when the first words out of her mouth were, “Stiles! You have everything you need to make cookies, right?” Dear god, what was it now? “Oh, who am I talking to, of course you have cookie mix. Right, well, Derek, Lance, and I are coming over! See you in a few minutes!” she rambled out before he could get in a word edgewise.

Just as he was about to reply, she hung up and Stiles groaned.

He leaned back in his chair and yelled up to his dad, who had gone upstairs, “Yo, pops! Erica and Derek are coming over, along with the kid, and, apparently, we’re baking cookies. You don’t mind us taking over the kitchen for a few hours, right?”

“As long as you clean up after yourselves and save me a few!” he yelled back down to him, and Stiles nodded.

Fair enough.

He ambled back into the kitchen and checked the pantry and let out a sigh of relief when he saw that they had everything they needed to make cookies from scratch. Rubbing a hand over his face, he started to pull it all out and had only just started to set it up when he heard the front door open and close, and couldn’t help but yell out, “Erica, you have to learn how to knock!”

She appeared in the kitchen doorway, hanging off the frame with a shit-eating grin on her face and said, “Aw, but what would be the fun in that? Oooh, is that the stuff for the cookies?”

Lance was right behind her, sticking close to Derek’s side and he gave the kid a reassuring smile before looking up at Derek and giving him a smile, as well. The alpha returned his look and patted Lance on the shoulder as they shuffled into the kitchen, Derek then saying, “I apologize for her. But it’s not like I really have any control over her,” he said sounding genuinely frustrated, giving her a slight glare, to which she replied with sticking her tongue out at him and Lance giggled at her.

Stiles smiled at seeing the kid already relaxing and then showed him where the baking sheets were and had him help with making the cookie dough.

As they started pulling everything out for the cookies, Stiles couldn’t help but ask, “Is there a reason why you aren’t doing this back at the house?”

Derek and Erica shared a look over Lance’s head, and then Derek explained, irritation in his voice, “Well, we would have, but it seems that Isaac and Liam got into the frozen cookie dough in the freezer two nights ago and ate it all. So, we had nothing left to make the Christmas cookies with, and I didn’t have the ingredients to make them from scratch. When we went out for ingredients, we found that most of the grocery stores are closed already, so Erica suggested that we call you. Next thing I know,” he added, sounding thoroughly annoyed, “She’s making me drive over to your house.”

He then shrugged and apologized.

“Sorry for crashing in on you like this,” and Stiles quickly brushed it off and said, “Hey, don’t worry ‘bout it, sourwolf.”

He then looked back down at Lance, who had finished mixing the ingredients and was looking up at Stiles questioningly, as if asking him what he was supposed to do next. With a smile, Stiles showed him how to roll out the dough and then cut out the different shapes with the cookie cutters.

Pretty soon, Erica and Derek were helping the kid, as well, and Stiles pulled back slightly so that the three of them could spend more time bonding with the young werecoyote.

He found it amusing that every time that Lance said something, or Erica did, Derek was translating for each of them, and Stiles tried very hard to tamp down on his reaction to hearing him speak Spanish so fluently. He never knew he had a thing for other languages. Or maybe it wasn’t languages, but Derek. Watching the alpha gently reprimand Erica as she tried to steal a bite from the batter and then gently say something to Lance in Spanish…well, it was definitely doing something to him, somewhere in the vicinity of his chest.

His dad poked his head in at once point to tell him he was going to do a couple of hours of paperwork back at the station, and Stiles nodded him off.

By that point, they had the first batch in the oven and had already started making the next batch. They had to make enough for the entire pack, of course, so Stiles estimated that they would be making at least three more batches, because he knew what the wolves’ appetites were like.

He eventually pulled out a couple of phrases he remembered from a Spanish class that he had taken way back in his freshman year of high school and laughed when Lance had to correct his pronunciation.

At some point while they were making cookies, Stiles ended up between Derek at Lance at the kitchen island, while Erica stood on the other side of Lance, getting Spanish lessons.

“Una galleta,” Lance said, pointing at one of the cookies on the tray and Stiles chuckled when he heard Erica try to repeat the word, not even coming close to rolling the double L sound correctly, and Lance laughed, and then Erica said, “Cookie.”

They were surprised when Lance smiled, picked it up and looked at her and said, “Good cookie?”

She smiled and nodded.

Without thinking about it, Stiles leaned slightly into Derek’s shoulder, forgetting that the closeness that they had shared last night at the party wasn’t allowed anymore, and he was just about to apologize and pull back, but then Derek’s hand reached up and stroked his lower back, so he took a risk and stayed where he was. Derek didn’t seem to notice that anything was amiss, so Stiles said nothing, just soaking it in as much as he could until the alpha came to his senses.

And then Erica looked over at them and shot a smirk in Stiles’ direction. He felt his cheeks heat up, and so he ducked his eyes and quickly pulled away from the casual embrace under the guise of going to the fridge to get something to drink, and then offered everyone else something as well in order to keep himself occupied.

Eventually, they had done five batches in total. Stiles threw them all into two large tupperware containers (with a few set aside for him and his dad), with the promise that they would be returned to him.

Just as they left, Stiles held Derek back for a moment and asked, “Is he doing okay? I mean, is the pack treating him right?”

Derek nodded.

“Yeah, they really seem to like him. Apparently last night was a huge success because when I got home, I found them all sprawled over the couch in a massive pile, Lance right in the middle, watching the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. He seems to like Liam the most,” he added with a soft smile. “I’m just glad he feels safe with us.”

Stiles nodded back at him and then lightly punched him on the shoulder and said, “Now get out of here and go celebrate the holiday with your pack. I’ll bring by your present sometime tomorrow, after dad and I open up our own presents, okay?”

Derek nodded and then quickly headed back to the Camaro, where Stiles could hear Erica and Lance arguing, Lance going off in rapid Spanish while she just shook her head and yelled back at him in English.

Yeah, he was going to be just fine.

Stiles had thought about telling Derek about what he’d found out but had then decided that it could wait until after Christmas. Besides, he wanted to get a confirmation from Heather before telling him what he knew, because he knew that if he told the alpha about Reynault then he wouldn’t care whether or not it was Christmas, he would leave to go and hunt him down himself, and Stiles didn’t want to take away from their well-deserved holiday cheer.

Instead, he finished putting the last couple of presents for his dad under the tree, and then made up a batch of eggnog that would appeal to both of them.

At around four, his dad was back home, and Stiles managed to convince him to sit down for a while to relax and have some eggnog and a couple of cookies.

When the sheriff coughed at the first sip, he smirked, knowing that he’d made it just right.

They then did their usual tradition and ordered a meat lovers pizza and put Die Hard into the blu-ray player, which they both firmly believed was definitely a Christmas movie. It had become a tradition back when Stiles was only twelve, and it was something that they enjoyed doing together every single Christmas Eve. Their biggest meal of the holiday, though, was always lunch on Christmas day.

They always piled up with heavy foods and it was the one time of year where Stiles didn’t get on his dad’s case about his diet. Instead, he let him indulge, and though they had never invited anyone to their exclusive Christmas lunch, Stiles had the faint inkling that this year his dad wanted to invite Melissa over. He knew that it should bother him a little bit, but the truth was that he was thrilled that his dad had found someone special in his life, and he couldn’t think of anyone better than Melissa. She had practically been a second mother to him over the years, after all.

Just as they had completely settled and were more than halfway through the movie, Bruce Willis giving his famous line from the vents, Stiles phone buzzed insistently in his pocket, and he looked at the number and recognized the Tennessee area code and quickly stood up and said, “Dad, I have to take this.”

He quickly ducked into the kitchen.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Stiles, this is Heather. I thought about e-mailing or texting you, but I then I realized that a phone call would be best. We’ve got him.”

Suddenly his shoulders dropped, and tension that Stiles didn’t even realized he was holding fell from him almost instantly and he let out a sigh of relief and slumped against the fridge, resting his forehead on the cool metal, and breathed out, “Oh, thank god. You have him contained?” he couldn’t help but ask.

She quickly answered, “Inside a room made from mountain ash, inside of a mountain ash circle, with mistletoe vines in the ground. Reynault isn’t going anywhere, Emissary Stiles,” she added with a smile in her tone, and he chuckled at the way she so formally addressed him, and he smiled and replied, “You have no idea how good this makes me feel. Knowing that he’s locked up and not getting out is the best Christmas present you could have given me. By the way, did you contact--?”

“Yes, we contacted him. He says he’s taking care of everything back in Maine and in D.C., and that it should all be taken care of before tomorrow morning.”

Stiles let out another sigh of relief and slowly stood back up, lightly tapping the palm of his hand to the counter, and then he said, “I’ll tell Derek and Lance tomorrow. They’ll be so relieved. I mean, he only just got here, but I think Derek really likes this kid. And he really likes Derek, too.”

He could hear the smile in her voice as she said, “Well, like I said. It’ll all be taken care of. Have a Merry Christmas, Emissary Stiles.”

“Please, call me Stiles. You keep calling me by my title and it’ll go straight to my head, just ask my fellow FBI agents,” and at that, she laughed and politely replied, “Fine, then. Stiles. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

And with that, they hung up, and Stiles felt a lightness that he hadn’t felt in a couple of days…except perhaps at the party the night before. He couldn’t wait to tell Derek, but he didn’t want to ruin their pack Christmas, so he would wait until he dropped by later tomorrow with his presents. They deserved to at least have a little bit more time together. He wasn’t sure how Lance would react to hearing the Reynault was no longer a problem, so he decided to play it safe for now.

He walked back into the living room and was surprised to see that his dad had paused the movie. He looked up at him curiously when he walked back in and asked, “Who was that? Sounded serious.”

Stiles nodded and then sat back down.

“Yeah, that was Heather, the emissary for that Tennessee pack I told you about. They, uh…they caught him. They have Reynault completely secure and he will face charges properly in werewolf style law,” he answered, knowing that that most likely meant that he was either going to be killed or permanently contained, though it all depended on him.

The sheriff arched an eyebrow, but instead of saying anything about it, he nodded and started the movie back up. Traditions had to be upheld, after all.

Stiles was startled out of his sleep at three am on Christmas morning, his phone buzzing insistently on the nightstand, and he blearily reached for it, silently praying that it wasn’t Erica calling. He could probably deal with anyone but Erica at that point. He loved her, but she was a menace.

“’lo?” he said, rubbing the heel of his hand over his eyes, rolling back over to his back.

“Hey, Stilinski. Have some good news for you.”

Oh, he knew that voice.

He blinked a couple of times, and then said, “Agent Davis? Is that you?”

“Yeah, sorry for waking you up at…oh, god, three am, I’m sorry, I totally forgot how early it is back in California,” his friend back at Quantico said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “But I took care of handling the information about Reynault. According to the FBI, he no longer exists and the attack on the parents was an animal attack, and the child has been declared dead. How does Lance Hale, sound?”

At that, Stiles shot up in his bed and stared straight ahead in shock, not quite sure that he had heard what he’d just heard. He knew that Agent Connor Davis was good, but this was far above and beyond what he had expected.

He gaped for a moment, and then finally got out, “Oh my god, Connor, I don’t know how the hell you did this, but this…this is freakin’ amazing, man! He’s, he’s…he’s already connecting with Derek and the pack and now he has a place if he wants it, and…seriously! How the hell did you pull this off so fast?” he asked a second time, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that his emissary friend at the FBI had just pulled off the biggest Christmas miracle of all time.

Connor answered, “Well, let’s just say that I friends that owe me quite a few favors and I cashed them in because this seemed like a good time for it. Lance deserves to have someplace where he can feel safe. No one deserves to go through that kind of trauma…”

His voiced drifted and Stiles couldn’t help but say, “Yeah, tell me about it.”

The line went quiet for a moment, taking it all in, and suddenly he felt like he needed to tell Derek at that very moment…but it was still just after three in the morning, and he had the feeling that the werewolf wouldn’t appreciate being woken up in the dead of night right before Christmas morning. He bit his lip, worrying it between his teeth, trying to figure out just what to do.

Before he could get too worked up about it, however, Connor said, “I’m sure that he’s exactly where he needs to be, Stiles. I know you and I trust your judgment. Besides,” he drawled, sounding far too smug, “From what I’ve heard about the Hale pack and from what you’ve told me about Derek, I bet Lance is making friends quickly. As are you.”

He heard the intonation in his voice and groaned and wondered if nearly everyone he knew was aware of the fact that he had a crush on Derek Hale.

Finally, he said, “Okay, look, yes, I like Derek but it’s not like that. I don’t know how many times I’ve told people this, but he doesn’t like me that way, so if you could just--”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Stilinski, just chill. I just think that you’re a little bit close minded and that it might not all just be on your side, you know? I keep in touch with other packs and other leaders, and quite a few of them have met Derek and have heard the way that he talks about you, and I’m just, you know…putting the pieces together,” Connor finished, and Stiles’ hackles lowered.

Oh. Wait…Derek talked about him? To other packs? How was he not aware of that?

Deciding he’d had enough emotional turmoil, he said, “Well, thanks for calling me. This is the best news, and I can’t wait to tell him. Thanks again, Connor.”

“No problem, Stilinski. By the way, don’t forget to check your e-mail.”

They hung up, and Stiles knew that he should go back to sleep, but he was suddenly wide awake and wired, and so he threw off his blanket and pulled on his old lacrosse hoodie and wandered over to his work laptop, pulling it out and flipping it open. He skimmed through his work e-mails, ignoring all of them except for the one that Agent Davis had just sent him.

He smiled as he read it, realizing that he needed to do something especially nice for the man because he had just somehow pulled off the impossible. He drafted a reply, trying to put as much gratitude into it as he could, needing Connor to know just how amazing he was. He’d met Agent Davis when he’d first gotten his job and the guy had immediately recognized a fellow emissary. Stiles had been startled to discover that there was someone else in the supernatural world that had chosen a job in law enforcement, but they’d quickly become friends.

He now had connections with the few packs that were out east because of the man and he was grateful for it, because they had all been far more helpful that Deaton had ever been and he stayed in touch with them through secure channels and used them as resources when things went weird in Beacon Hills, which happened more often than not.

After going through a few personal e-mails to a couple of emissaries, one in North Carolina and one in Ohio, he glanced at his phone to check the time.

It was just after six am. Too late to try and get more sleep, he knew, because his dad typically woke him up at around seven on Christmas morning, every year, without fail.

Letting out a long sigh, he leaned back in his chair, put his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes, wondering what his dad had gotten for him that year. Last year had been a set of leather holsters that he had ordered from a professional leather worker up in Wyoming, and he still used them. He wouldn’t be surprised if he got another gift that was in the same vein as the one before. Though his dad didn’t say it, he knew that he was proud of him getting into the FBI, and show tried to show it through the gifts he got him throughout the year.

Just as he felt himself starting to drift, though, he heard from his window--

“Hey, I need to talk to you--”

He opened his eyes just in time to reach out and catch the edge of his desk with his fingertips to keep himself from falling over, and then swung accusing eyes over in the direction of the voice, wondering what the hell Derek was doing there in his room at six fifteen in the morning. On Christmas morning. When he was supposed to be with his pack.

“Dude, what the hell, man?” he hissed out, keeping in mind that his dad was still asleep only a couple of doors down from his room. “How many times do I have to tell you that we have a front door and that you should use it? Also…what the hell?? It’s Christmas morning! Is there a reason why you’re over here scaring me out of my skin instead of back with your pack, dealing with sugary, hyped-up pups tearing into their stockings and presents and driving you up the wall??”

He evened out his breathing as much as he could as he brought the chair back to the floor, once more level, but he knew that he couldn’t hide from Derek just how fast his heart was racing. Normally, he would have been embarrassed, but considering what the alpha had just done, he felt it was entirely Derek’s fault.

Derek just gave him a once over and said, “Like I said, I need to talk to you. I’m worried about who went after Lance’s parents, and I think I should--”

Stiles quickly cut him off, waving a hand in the air and saying, “Dude, don’t worry about it, I’ve already taken care of it,” and at that, Derek’s brow furrowed, and he gave him a curious look, and Stiles realized how it sounded, so he quickly explained.

“Look, I was worried, too, so yesterday I used department resources, as well as a few of my own, and I tracked down the werewolf that killed his parents.”

Derek’s eyebrows shot up at that.

“Turns out he was a rogue from one of the Quebec packs who was acting outside the authority of the alpha, trying to claim it as a territory dispute. I managed to track him down to Tennessee and contacted the emissary there, and she just called me this evening to say that they’ve got him contained.” He paused to yawn, and then scratched his neck and said, “Also, I got a call from an agent friend back at Quantico who cut through all the shitty red tape and made it so that Lance Santiago and the man who killed his parents no longer exist.”

Derek, still partially perched on the sill of Stiles’ window, just looked at him with wide eyes, his mouth partly open, and Stiles was fairly certain that that had been his own expression when Connor had told him the news.

Finally, Derek breathed out, sounding incredulous, “How…how did you do all of this so quickly? I mean, tracking him down means…you would need…”

Stiles rolled his eyes and couldn’t help but quip, “Dude, did you never wonder how the hell I became a full-fledged field agent with their own field office at just twenty-four? With three paid agents who work under me, all of them older than I am?”

Derek came the rest of the way into the room and sat on the edge of Stiles’ bed, his brow still furrowed, and Stiles let out a long sigh, flipped his laptop closed, and then said, “Okay, apparently you had no clue, so looks like I’m gonna have to explain it to you,” and went and joined Derek on his bed, trying not to pay too close attention to the fact that all he wore was his boxers and that he hadn’t showered since the night that they had gone to the party.

“As soon as I started the internship, one of the agents took an interest in me and I quickly found out that he was an emissary.” Derek gave him a wide-eyed look and Stiles chuckled and said, “Yeah, I know, it totally took me off guard, too, but because he recognized my spark, don’t ask me how,” he quickly said, throwing a hand up to stop the alpha’s inevitable question, “I still don’t get it, myself. But he recognized it and immediately put me on the fast track to becoming an agent. Luckily, I passed most of the tests simply because I had the experience thanks to my dad and all of my adventurous teenage years in Beacon Hills.”

Derek then finally said, “Is he the same agent that you just mentioned? The one who cut through all the red tape?”

Stiles nodded.

“Yep. Connor’s a great guy,” he said, smiling fondly. “It’s because of him that I got this amazing job in the first place. It’s because of him I was able to come back home to work, instead of spending ten to twelve years back in D.C., trying to work my way up the daisy chain of bureaucrats to get to a job where I could finally choose where I wanted to work.”

Derek looked up at him at that, drawing his gaze away from the floor, and said a low tone, “I didn’t know that. I just…I guess I just thought you were that good, I guess.”

At that, Stiles laughed, though tried to still keep his voice down, remembering his dad was asleep, and said, “Wow, that’s, uh…super flattering, I guess, but no, sourwolf. Just got really lucky with the right person who got me where I could do the most good for the Agency. Not gonna lie, a lot of the cases I take I have to run supernatural interference, so my agents don’t wise up and find out what’s really going on out here near Beacon Hills.”

Derek’s brow softened and he gave Stiles a look that he couldn’t quite nail down.

Feeling a bit exposed, he quickly stood back up and rubbed his hand across the back of his neck and said, “So, yeah. Lance is officially off the grid, so if you want to take him in, you can. In fact, how does Lance Hale, sound?”

At that, Derek looked up at him in shock.

“Lance…Hale? Do you mean…?”

Stiles shrugged, a bit nervous as he admitted, “Connor managed to change some records so that you have a baby brother who was adopted right before the fire.” He quickly told him everything that he’d read in the detailed e-mail that Connor had sent him right after their conversation. “He lives with you here in Beacon Hills and is now currently registered at Beacon Hills Middle School.”

Derek gaped up at him, and Stiles was even more confused when he suddenly surged to his feet in front of him and said in a breathless voice, “I don’t know how to thank you, or him, but I need to find a way…”

Stiles felt completely off-balance as Derek leaned into his personal space, their mouths shockingly close.

“Stiles…” Derek then suddenly stopped and took a deep breath, and then he leaned his head down and took another long deep breath through his nose, practically nuzzling into his neck, and then murmured into Stiles’ ear, “You’re still wearing the shirt that you wore under what you wore to the party,” and Stiles swallowed, unsure of what to do, so he remained stock still as Derek proceeded to do whatever he was doing. He then said, his lips brushing against Stiles’ jaw, “I wanted it to be real…”

What was he talking about? What did he meant that he wanted it to be real? He wanted what to be real--oh. Oh.

Oh.

As if he was acting on instinct, he brought his hands up and slipped them around the back of Derek’s neck and said, “Oh, god, so did I, but I thought that was probably pretty damn obvious, by now.” He heard Derek swallow and the alpha said in a voice barely above a whisper, “I wasn’t sure if it was real or if I was just imagining it, you know? I thought maybe because I wanted you to want me in the same way so bad, that I was imagining things…”

Stiles shook his head and slipped his fingers into the hair at the base of Derek’s neck and murmured right back at him, “You weren’t imagining things…”

That seemed to be the trigger, because suddenly Derek had pulled his head back and was pressing his lips to Stiles and he was melting under the sheer heat of him, turning his entire body so that he was pressed up against him from shoulder to thigh, and he didn’t think that he’d ever felt more comforted yet turned on at the exact same time.

And then, through a series of events that quickly became a blur, Stiles found himself on his back on his bed with Derek on top of him, hands sliding under his sweater to pull it over his head, and then was nuzzling his mouth and nose into his neck and down the center of the shirt, letting out these small little sounds that made Stiles think that he was fully embracing his wolf side and scenting him up and down like a wolf trying to claim its territory on a mate.

He was more than a little bit turned on, and then just about lost it when Derek’s tongue darted out and licked at his nipple through the shirt, and then sharply nipped at it, causing Stiles to yelp and squirm.

“Ah, Derek! What are you, what are doing,” he breathed out as he slid further down and traced his tongue across his exposed hip bone.

“I’m claiming you as mine,” he muttered into his skin. “I’m gonna mark you up and make you the prettiest present I’ve ever had in my life,” and Stiles’ eyes rolled up in the back of his head at the sheer amount of desire in his words. God, the threat of being bitten into and marked up by claws and teeth should not be that hot, Stiles thought to himself as Derek then lightly tugged on his boxers, exposing even more skin to his ever-questing tongue.

He slid his hand under Stiles’ hips and forced his legs apart and nosed down into the crevice of his hip and then let out a low hum that sounded like he was enjoying himself.

Stiles reached down and ran his fingers through the alpha’s hair and breathed out, “This is easily the best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten, but Der…you’ve got pups waiting for you back at home,” but his admonishment went unnoticed as Derek reached between them and pressed warm fingers to Stiles’ erection, causing his brain to short circuit.

He bucked up into the grip, eyes rolling towards the ceiling, and then nearly passed out when he felt Derek’s tongue trace over him through the fabric of his boxers, and he heard him inhale deeply once more, and Stiles wondered what he smelled like to the alpha wolf, because however he smelled, it seemed to be bringing out every single part of Derek’s possessive side, because he growled, “Mine,” and then lightly suckled at the tip of his cock through his boxers and Stiles was certain that he was going to die from it.

But then the pressure suddenly went away, and he looked down, wondering why Derek had changed his mind and was blown away by look in his eyes as he stared up at him from between his legs.

“God, Stiles…you have no idea how long I’ve wanted you,” he said, sounding completely breathless.

And then he moved up, his thighs still resting between Stiles’ legs, but now his chest covered Stiles’ as he reached back up for another kiss, and as he wrapped his arms around the alpha’s shoulders, he realized he never wanted to stop kissing him. Despite the promise of something more, all he really wanted to do at that moment was to continue to kiss him and hold him in his arms for as long as he could.

Derek slowly undulated against him, their cocks rubbing in just the right way, and Stiles gasped while Derek continued to kiss him, running his tongue down and over his neck, playfully nipping the entire time and he knew that he was going to end up with so many marks that it was going to look like he had barely won a fight against a very determined vampire with blunt teeth. Part of him, the part of his brain that was still working, was telling him to push Derek off and make sure he got back home, but another part of his brain, the much more selfish part, was telling him to never let him go and hold onto him as tightly as he could.

Torn between the two, he simply slid his hands down Derek’s back and then lightly squeezed when they got to their targeted destination.

Derek grunted and then thrusted hard against him when he did, causing Stiles to moan more loudly than he meant to.

He bit his lip and tried to remember that his dad was still asleep.

But then--

“Hey, kiddo, it’s time to get up for…”

They both froze and Stiles slowly turned his head to see his dad standing in the doorway of his room, one hand still raised as if he’d knocked on the door. Stiles then realized that he probably had, but he hadn’t heard it because he had been…occupied.

All three of them were frozen. And then his dad coughed, raised an eyebrow at them and said, “Uh, why don’t you come down a bit later. I’ll put some coffee on,” and he turned and left, muttering something under his breath as he walked back down the hall to the stairs, and Stiles was confused when Derek suddenly snorted then pressed his forehead to Stiles’ shoulder as his body shook with laughter, as if he was trying to contain his mirth at the whole situation.

Amused, but also annoyed, Stiles tapped his shoulder and said, “Alright, what gives? Being caught by my dad isn’t that funny, man…”

Finally, Derek caught his breath and looked back up at him and explained, “When your dad left, he said that he owed Melissa money.” Derek arched an eyebrow at him, as if trying to tell him to put the pieces together…which Stiles finally did.

“Hold up, are you telling me that…that the two of them were betting on when the two of us were going to get together?!”

Derek nodded and slowly rose up to his knees, so that his weight was no longer on top of his, and Stiles already missed it. He quickly sat up, as well, and then reached out and pulled Derek back to him with a hand around the back of his neck, stealing yet another kiss from him, and was pleased when the werewolf seemed almost breathless when they both pulled back from it what felt like ages later. He didn’t really want to stop kissing him, but he knew that he had to.

“So, uh…Merry Christmas,” he said, not sure of what else to say.

Derek gave him a long look…and then he reached over and cupped his jaw and Stiles couldn’t help but lean into the touch.

And then Derek said, “You were right, before. I need to be back with my pack. But…you’re still coming over later, though, right?” he asked, his tone unsure and Stiles quickly reassured him with, “Of course, I’m still coming over, sourwolf. I’ll just also be bringing an overnight bag,” he added with a smirk and Derek’s smile widened.

“Sounds great,” he murmured, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. He then said, “By the way, I’m sorry I never told you I was okay or tried to visit you when you were at the Academy,” and Stiles felt his heart clench, and he just shook his head and said, “Hey, don’t worry about it, Derek. It wasn’t either of our faults. Just…bad timing.”

Derek nodded.

And then he moved to go back out the window, and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Seriously?” he drawled, gesturing widely with his hands. “After all this, and you’re still going to go out through the window? We are fully grown adults, Derek, you can go out through the front door like a big boy,” he said, arching an eyebrow at him, and Derek gave him a look over his shoulder and replied, “I like doing it this way. Makes me feel like I’m making for the years we lost when neither of us acted on our feelings. We have time to be adults later,” he said, completely taking Stiles off guard.

Feeling a sudden surge of affection towards him, he bolted to his window and planted a hot, wet kiss right on Derek’s mouth, feeling a rush of hormones as he then whispered against his lips, “In that case, when can we park your car on some back road and christen the back seat of the Camaro?”

Derek grinned.

“How about New Year’s Eve?”

Stiles grinned.

“It’s a date.”

And with that, Derek lightly jumped to the ground and Stiles stared for a moment, watching him take off back home, looking forward to going over later in the day to see him and the pack. This was the best Christmas ever, he thought to himself as he tugged on a pair of sweatpants over his boxers, noting the stain on the front from where Derek had…yeah.

Shaking his head, trying to rid himself of the inappropriate thoughts before he went to spend the morning with his dad, he grabbed his phone and tucked it into his hoodie and sauntered down the stairs, ignoring the smug smirk on the corner of his dad’s lips as he handed him a mug of coffee. The two of them sat on the floor next to the tree and Stiles handed over his present and eagerly ripped at the paper on his own, wondering what his dad had gotten him that year.

“Are you serious?” he said as he pulled out the matching hat and jacket, both with the Mets logo on them, and he saw the scrawl of a familiar signature on the back of the cap and the shoulder of the jacket. “How the hell did you get this?”

His dad shrugged and grinned and answered, “Let’s just say that you’re not the only one who knows people, kid.”

Stiles laughed, pulled his dad into a strong, back breaking hug, and then slid the jacket on, thrilled with how well it fit him.

He then gestured at his dad as he tugged on the cap and said, “C’mon, open up your present, don’t leave me hangin’,” and then smiled when his dad finally pulled off the wrapping on the present that Stiles had spent a total of two minutes wrapping. He smiled even wider when his dad let out a sound of surprise at what he found.

“I’m not going to ask how you got it, I’m just going to say thank you,” he said, pulling out his pocketknife and opening the box, pulling out the brand-new leather jacket with a blue and red leather stripe down the front right side. It was an exact replica of one from a tv show that he’d loved when he was younger, and Stiles was glad that he was finally able to afford to spoil his dad for once. The look on his face as he put the jacket on over his t-shirt was priceless.

But then his dad’s smile turned into a smirk and he said, “So, you and Derek…”

Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Oh, god, do we have to have this conversation right now? It’s bad enough that you saw us…you know, the way that you saw us. By the way,” he quickly added, pulling the coat and hat back off and putting them back into the box, “Derek told me what you said, about how you owe Melissa money. You two bet on us?”

He wasn’t proud of how his voice cracked slightly as he said it, but then his dad chuckled and shook his head and said, “Yeah, we did. I know you, Stiles. I’ve known for years that you’ve had a crush on the guy. Why do you think I was on your case when you and Scott first met him? I know all the signs of a repressed crush turned into fake anger. You kept on going on and on about how you hated him, and then when you came back and Derek asked you to be his emissary, well…I knew it was just a matter of time.”

Stiles smiled at that, but ducked his eyes, feeling his face go slightly warm.

And then his dad added, pointing a finger at him, “That doesn’t mean I want to walk into what I just saw earlier, again. If you’re gonna do…that…then do it somewhere else. Understood?”

Unable to help himself, Stiles said, “Oh, we’ve already got a date tonight, and for New Year’s Eve, we’re christening the Camaro,” and grinned when he saw his dad make a face and let out a disgusted sound. He may have been an adult, but that didn’t mean he had to be mature.

“Gee, thanks for that imagery, kid.”

“You’re welcome, pops,” he said, reaching out and playfully batting him on the arm.

They then shared one last smile and headed off to the kitchen for breakfast.

Yeah.

Best Christmas ever.

#hazelestelle #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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cosmicpines · 4 years

Text

Merry Christmas, and happy @codesecretsanta! I’ve lurked for enough years and finally found the courage to participate.

This is for @cidnets. They asked for something with the whole gang, so I wrote about some early gang friendship as they try and figure out how to navigate their new friend group.

Enjoy! :)

Jeremie Belpois didn’t have any friends before an evil AI possessed a vending machine and nearly electrocuted him to death a month ago, and he sure wished he remembered how that fact changed.

As far as he could remember, he went to get a drink from that vending machine, the same he did whenever he was feeling particularly down and decided to “treat” himself (quality of the hot chocolate questionable as it was), when suddenly there were three people talking to him like they knew each other, dragging him away to his room to tell him about an adventure he could barely believe happened. It took until he saw files on the supercomputer that weren’t there the day before, images of these apparent friends of his side by side with Aelita, to believe they weren’t all pulling an elaborate prank on him.

That gap in his memory itched at him in moments like these, when, between the mission shot calls and terror-filled calls to the person on the scene (Ulrich, this time, helping evacuate students from a water system that was flooding the school), there was the dreaded mission banter.

“Woah, Jeremie, I think we see why there’s a number mismatch,” Yumi’s voice reverberated through his headset, as the three dots on his map that indicated his friends (the word still felt wrong) rounded a bend to what looked like on his screen to be one Blok, but that the sensors identified as 7.

Odd laughed. “Oh man! Einstein, it’s like a Jenga tower!”

Yumi’s snicker came in response, confirming that this was a joke he wasn’t getting and Odd just not being dumb.

“Sorry?” Jeremie said, pulling up a visual on his screen, seeing all 7 Bloks stacked on top of each other, Yumi’s fan barely missing the bottom one, “It’s like a what now?”

“Jenga! You know, Jenga?” Odd repeated in what many may consider the least helpful clarification possible.

“Is that… a movie?”

“No! What? How have you never played Jenga, Einstein? Haven’t you been to a game night or anything?”

Jeremie bit his tongue, weighing responses, the gap in his memory weighing on him. He often wondered, in times like this, where he failed to get jokes and carry on banter, what the hell the Jeremie of that timeline had done to trick the three of them (four, if you counted Aelita, who was a different mystery in of itself) into thinking they liked him in the first place. He wondered what that Jeremie would say in response to this, what he would do to make all of them laugh and like him.

“I have more important things to do than play whatever Jenga is. Like babysitting a supercomputer.”

“Well, we have to fix that! Yumi, do you have a copy?”

Of course, logically, he knew that the “other Jeremie” was really just him; that “he” would be struggling with this just as much.

"A copy of Jenga?” Yumi grunted as a laser hit her, (30 lifepoints left, should he say something? Should he wait for her to finish talking? What’s the protocol here?) “Maybe? My dad doesn’t have the patience for that kind of game. Luckily…” She tossed a fan with a cry, destroying one of the bloks on the bottom of the stack, sending the rest tumbling down. “I don’t either.”

“Oh, great job, Yumi!” Aelita’s grin was obvious, even though just her voice. She started making her way to the tower as Jeremie still tried to come up with something to say, thoughts spiraling as Odd and Yumi kept talking and he kept saying nothing, sitting there with nothing. There was a part of him that wondered if he was just a convenient means to an end to them. Someone to press the buttons and let them play superhero and talk to their much cooler digital friend.

“How about your room, Einstein? That way, Aelita can join us too!”

Crap. That was directed at him.

“My room? For what?”

“Earth to Einstein!” He cringed at Odd’s sudden increase in volume, “Game night! We’re going to teach you Jenga and every other game you’ve missed out on!”

He blinked, mind going blank again, for very different reasons. His fingers froze momentarily over the keys, before the defensiveness he had built up over the years fell out of his mouth. “Sure, Odd. As long as you don’t make another mess like last time.”

“Hey! That wasn’t my fault!”

“Uh huh,” he said, as the supercomputer pinged in response to the tower being deactivated. He started typing, hesitated, then reached in his bag for where he kept his notes. Almost had the return procedure memorized, but there was that step he always forgot. He’d hoped that he’d get Aelita to Earth before he’d need to memorize it, but materialization was harder than he thought.

As he typed, his mind conjured images of a game night – of friends on his floor, of laughter and fun. Maybe it was possible. Or maybe he was getting his hopes up again. Maybe Odd just wanted to use his room for a game night so they could hang out with Aelita; nothing to do with him.

(Of course, why, then, would it be at his lack of knowledge about Jenga to prompt it?)

(…this was hard.)

“Return to the past now.”

Odd Della Robbia wasn’t going to let this friend group fail.

Despite coming to Kadic in the middle of the semester (it wasn’t his fault his geometry teacher flunked him out of his last school, yeesh), he hadn’t been particularly worried about making new friends. People were naturally drawn to his charms; always had been, always would be. What could he say? He was great! I mean, sure, a lot of those old friends didn’t answer his calls after he had been kicked out of school and, yeah, one argument broke a lot of those friendships, but that didn’t matter. He had never been lonely before, and Kadic was going to be no different. And one day here had proven him right!

But these friends… they were different. Normally, Odd found himself with people who were similar to him – loud, excited, larger than life, up for anything – but his first day shoved him elsewhere. (Not that anyone would call his first day not loud, exciting, and larger than life). And maybe that wouldn’t have been a problem, except these friends didn’t seem to know how to be friends. Like, Jeremie looked surprised every time he and Ulrich sat next to him for dinner (at what was he was determined to become their table). It took Yumi at least a week to start hanging with them around campus after classes instead of going home. And his roommate… well, he was just a piece of work.

But there was something about these guys that was special. He was determined to make these friends a group anyone would envy. And the first thing to do to make that happen was easy: snacks and games.

“I still don’t get why you’re so insistent on this,” Ulrich said as they walked back to Kadic from town late that Friday night, arms laden with the most unhealthy things they could afford on a student’s budget.

“Oh, come on, Ulrich! Aelita and Jeremie both have never been to one! It’s our duty as their friends to enrich them.”

Ulrich rolled his eyes, shifting the bags in his arms. “Oh yeah, the joyous splendor of game nights is just what Jeremie needs to get out of his shell.”

“Well, why not? Besides, Yumi said she’s sneaking back on campus to join us, too. It’ll be great!”

“If you say so,” Ulrich shrugged, “I don’t get the feeling that he’s too jazzed you invited yourself into his room all night.”

Odd brushed him off. “It’ll be fine Ulrich, trust me.”

He only grunted in response, clearly not convinced. Odd frowned, clicking his tongue. “Aren’t you excited, Ulrich?”

“No.”

“What? Not even a little?”

“I’m excited to destroy this bag of Doritos and then go back into my room to read a book.”

“Boring!”

Ulrich grunted again, and silence fell on the two roommates as they entered the building. Odd just didn’t get this guy. What could convince him to just have a little fun with his friends?

“Not even with Yumi there?”

It was a hunch he had for at least a week, and possibly a low blow to bring it up like this, but Ulrich’s reaction made it all worth it: he almost dropped his bag, his face turned red, and he pointedly stared at the opposite wall, as if doing so would mean Odd couldn’t see him. Bingo.

Ulrich cleared his throat after a moment. “I don’t know why that would make a difference.”

“Don’t you?”

“I don’t, so knock it off.”

“Knock what –,”

“Odd.” He growled, as they climbed the stairs to the boy’s floor, “Knock it off.”

“Okay, okay!” Odd grinned, “But I’m just saying, I’m happy to see someone melt that icy heart of yours. If you ever want any pointers on how to woo her, I’d be more than happy to –,”

“Alright, that’s it.” Ulrich muttered, turning around and heading back towards their room.

Odd felt his stomach drop as his roommate retreated. “Hey – hey Ulrich! Oh, come on! Don’t be upset, it was just a joke!” He grabbed his shoulder, and Ulrich turned around and looked at him.

Odd was used to friendships falling apart, was used to rejection and anger. Hell, even though he had only come to Kadic a month ago, he had already gotten slapped by a girl who was mad at him for brushing off their study date (his own fault, he knew, but he had just gotten a new game for his Gameboy Advance and completely forgot! Why couldn’t she understand that?!). So he knew what to expect from Ulrich here – he just hoped it wouldn’t be a friendship-ending argument.

But what he saw in Ulrich’s face wasn’t the pure anger he had grown toe expect; it was hurt. Ulrich was glaring at him, but his eyes were red, and he was blinking rapidly – staving off tears, Odd realized with a jolt.

“Ulrich, I…”

What could he say? What had he done wrong? Odd was just teasing him! It wasn’t anything for him to get so upset about! His stomach was churning as he looked at his roommate, desperate to think of what to say to brush this all off, get him back into Jeremie’s room for game night, and get him back in his good books.

Only… was Odd even in Ulrich’s good books? Was this friendship based on nothing but a housing mistake to drop Odd into Ulrich’s room and a supercomputer to drop them in the same double life? If they didn’t have that, would they even consider each other friends? Odd didn’t know. He bit his tongue as words failed to come to his mouth, and Ulrich turned away. And that possibly would have been the end of the night entirely, if it wasn’t for the muffled yelling that suddenly came from Jeremie’s room.

Newly forged instinct sprung to life in Odd, and he dashed down the hall to where Einstein must have been in danger – a possessed heating system! Flashes of lights that blind you! – Ulrich was at his side, too, and Odd felt something between dread and relief. Odd reached for the doorknob, when –

“I just don’t know what I’m doing, Aelita! I should be happy they’re hanging out with me, but –,”

Odd’s eyes widened, another pit forming in his stomach. He pressed his ear to the door, and barely caught Aelita’s reply.

“…something that usually stresses people out?”

“No! No, it’s just me being stupid and awful at this!”

“Awful at what?”

“Friends! Aelita, I haven’t had friends before this! And I’m trying so hard to make it work with these but I don’t – I don’t know if they really like me at all. I seriously…”

Oh, this was a conversation they really shouldn’t be listening into.

Odd nudged Ulrich, who was staring at the door in a sort of blind panic, pushing him back down the hallway.

“What are you – “

“Shh!”

Odd’s mind was racing at Jeremie’s words. How would they not like him? He glanced back at Ulrich, who was staring at Jeremie’s door, but whose eyes drifted down to his. Ulrich’s eyes softened a bit, and he nodded, heading back towards their room. Odd’s heart sank, until he saw Ulrich picking up the bags of groceries.

Odd grinned, then raised his voice, “Oh man, Ulrich! I cannot believe how late we are!”

Ulrich stared back at him for a second, and then a hint of a smile formed on his lips. “Oh, Odd, I know, I know! But it was your fault for having to go back for Pringles.”

“What can I say? I have great taste! Besides, I know the plain ones are Jeremie’s favorite!”

“Uh – yeah! We… sure want to make sure we have that!”

Odd knocked on Jeremie’s door, loudly. “Jeremie! We’re here!”

His heart pounded as he heard a shuffling inside, and then, blessedly, the door opened. Jeremie stared at them for a second, something like distracted concern in his eyes, and then he gestured in, to where Odd saw he had put some blankets on the floor and cleared space off his normally disastrous desk. Aelita waved from the computer screen.

“Make yourself at home.” Jeremie said, shutting the door behind them.

“Will do, Einstein!” Odd breathed a sigh of relief as he unloaded his snacks onto the desk.

It was rough going. But he was going to make it work.

Aelita was finding humans more and more confusing as each day passed.

Not ten minutes ago, Jeremie was telling her how much he was scared of this game night happening. He had even started yelling, which was something she’d only seen the boy do once before, when he was sharing how scared he was about their fight agains XANA.

It was something that had sat with her since they had made that promise the day they had met – they were all doing this for her, and it wasn’t getting any safer. They swore that, one day, she would be sitting in this room with them, instead of sitting in a quiet, empty tower, looking through a window into a world she found as strange as they found hers.

Yumi had arrived five minutes ago, arms laden with games. “I stole these out of our house,” she had said, dropping them onto the bed and sitting down, “Sorry we don’t have a huge selection. Luckily, we did have Jenga afterall.”

Odd had jumped up and wrapped his arms around her – a hug, Aelita remembered, from one of the movies she and Jeremie had watched – and Yumi had looked confused as he retreated, then had helped him begin setting up the game.

Jenga, it turned out, was a rather simple game: stack the blocks in a tower, take out the pieces and place them on top, and try and keep it from falling over. She watched her friends take their moves in turn, and was fascinated by the dynamic in the room. Aelita had never seen them all interacting in a context outside of battle, and the lack of harmony was unexpected.

Yumi made her moves quickly and decisively, never hesitating for more than a second once her turn came around. She had knocked it over more than once like this, but didn’t seem to mind too much, and was quick to set it up again to keep going. She made loud noises after every round, and often poked fun at the others for their moves, which Jeremie and Ulrich didn’t seem to like. Yumi stopped this, after a while, but still tried to get everyone to speak with her.

Jeremie, meanwhile, was slow, eyes sweeping over the whole tower before choosing his move. When Yumi asked him what was taking so long, Jeremie had looked confused, before saying, “I’m evaluating my options!” That seemed logical to Aelita, but Odd and Yumi both laughed, like Jeremie had made a joke – or, as Jeremie had confided in her once, they were mocking him for saying the wrong thing. The way they continued smiling at him, though, didn’t indicate that.

If being slow was something to laugh at, though, she wondered why Odd didn’t do the same with Ulrich, who took equally long turns in silence. Unlike Jeremie, who looked around the tower contemplatively, Ulrich kept bringing his hand to the tower, then pulling it back, over and over again, until he finally picked a move and performed it just as slowly. When the tower didn’t fall, he would breathe a sigh of relief. When it did, he would look furious with himself.

Odd couldn’t be more different than Ulrich, as, once he chose which to take – he pressed his finger against a few before choosing, he yanked it out deftly. The first time he had done this, Ulrich had muttered something about cheating, but Odd had shot back that Ulrich should read the rules sometime. Then, after placing the block back on top, he had smiled at his friend, but when Ulrich didn’t reciprocate, Odd’s smile slipped away.

That wasn’t ordinary, Aelita had thought at the time, and, after Ulrich toppled the tower one more time and yelled out in anger and Yumi suggested moving onto another game, she could see that strange emotion again in Odd’s face – hesitation and fear. It was something she saw on Jeremie often, but never on Odd. She would have to remember to ask Jeremie about it afterwards.

“How about Monopoly?” Yumi asked, holding up another box.

Odd groaned. “That game takes forever and I’m horrible at it.”

“Okay,” Yumi responded, putting it back down. “Sorry?”

“Sorry for what?”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

Jeremie and Ulrich were both sitting silently on the ground as Odd and Yumi debated which game was next. Ulrich was cross legged, staring at his napkin covered in snacks – Doritos, Cheetos, and Pringles, Aelita remembered, from squinting at the packaging to her right and looking it up online. She read how the flavors differed and tried to imagine it herself; that was very hard, considering she didn’t even have taste buds. Her gaze drifted over to Jeremie, and she was momentarily startled, seeing him looking at her. Aelita smiled at him, and he smiled back. She glanced over at Odd and Yumi bickering over games, and then back at him, silently asking why he didn’t help. He glanced at his friends and shrugged, going back to picking at his snacks.

This wasn’t the way Jeremie had explained a game night to her. This wasn’t the “fun” that she had expected to see.If she was there, she would drag him over to the board games and help him pick one. She would be the one to ask him, quietly, in case it was something that embarrassed him for some reason, which games he liked, and which he didn’t. She would laugh at Odd’s jokes and make some herself. She would try the snacks and have favorites and ones she hated. She would be able to have her own strategy for playing Jenga, and she would knock that tower down and learn to do it better.

But she couldn’t. She was here, in an entirely different world, barely able to interact with them at all. Her voice didn’t come from her mouth, but from tinny speakers that echoed through the room; a quiet conversation wasn’t possible when she was being broadcasted to everyone. She watched as Jeremie quietly got another drink for Ulrich and Ulrich smiled back at him; somethings she couldn’t be part of. All she could do was loudly proclaim “hello! I’m here too!” before she was forgotten again in the excitement of another game she couldn’t touch, couldn’t join in, couldn’t be there for.

And at what cost, would it be, to bring her there? What danger to the world must be done to let her join them, to let her touch the objects that Yumi was handing out?

“You know the rules for Uno, right?”

No! She didn’t! She had no idea what Uno was, or why it was played, or what some of them were finding fun and what some of them were stressed about! She had no idea how or why humans did this – Jeremie said nebulously “it was fun,” but Ulrich looked miserable, Odd looked scared, Yumi looked distant – she wanted, wanted, wanted to be there, wanted to be part of it… But how much was she worth? How much did they have to do for her?

So she sat silently and watched, only the briefest eye contact with Jeremie reminding her that they knew she was there at all.

Yumi Ishiyama didn’t think this game night was working.

She was leaning against Jeremie’s desk, getting herself another Coke, and watching as the boys played for second place in an Uno match after she had gotten out. Odd laughed as Ulrich played a draw two card on Jeremie, whose hand was already at least a quarter of the deck, but shut up as Jeremie dropped three more on top.

“Draw eight, Odd.”

A faint grin was on Jeremie’s face as Odd scowled. “I never should have let you guys convince me to use stacking rules!”

“You were the one who suggested it,” Ulrich muttered, sorting his own hand.

Yumi smiled, sipping her drink, thankful for a moment of unity in the room. The boys had been awkward all night; Jenga was a nightmare that she was glad was over. It wasn’t like she was doing much better – her competitive instincts from playing with her family didn’t work well with Jeremie, who didn’t know the rules, or with Ulrich, who was in what she was quickly finding to be a usual bad mood. Odd didn’t seem to mind, but she always had a hard time understanding Odd at all; his easy grins and fast jokes couldn’t always be genuine, could they? How could someone be that happy all the time?

But Odd was grating on the other two just as much as she was; his jokes falling on just her laughter, becoming more and more tired as the other two didn’t respond. It was a nightmare, trying to carry the conversation like this, and it was clearer now that she had stepped out of the game. Ulrich and Jeremie just played the game, an ocasssional single quip, and Odd tried his best to fill the room with chatter that fell on deaf ears, his persistant smile fixed and tired. This whole thing was a mistake. None of them were having a good time, and none of them wanted to be there.

What is wrong with us? Yumi thought, unconsciously crushing her now empty cup in her hand. Why couldn’t they just have fun, the way friends were supposed to? Yumi hadn’t had any friends before she and Ulrich were attacked by that electricity ball and her life got flipped upside down, and now she wasn’t even sure if she was doing it right. There were times that they got it, that they laughed and hung out, but there were times like this, too, where everything was just off.

She sighed, turning to throw out her cup, thinking about making an excuse about wanting to get home before Jim noticed her, when she suddenly remembered that they weren’t the only ones in the room. Aelita’s face was on the screen, watching the boys play Uno. She suddenly felt bad about not speaking to her most of the night.

“Hey Aelita, how are you doing?”

Aelita turned to her, smiling brightly. “Oh, just fine, Yumi. Humanity has created so many interesting ways to keep itself occupied in its leisure, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Yumi’s heart melted with Aelita’s enthusiasm for something so simple, “Are you understanding the rules?”

“Oh yes, I have the Google to thank for that.” Aelita motioned to something in front of her that Yumi couldn’t see. A smile twitched at the corners of Yumi’s mouth at Aelita’s awkward phrasing. She found herself briefly forgetting her desire to book it out of there as Aelita continued. “I’m learning a lot! Not just on the games, but on ‘fun’ too.”

“On fun? What do you mean by that?”

“I didn’t really understand quite how it worked before now; I don’t have a lot of time for ‘fun’ on Lyoko. It’s not like I can go play Uno or Jenga with XANA.” She looked wistful for a moment, then smiled again. “But I can see the way that you guys are doing it, and it’s very interesting. It seems like ‘fun’ is something you have to learn to do as much as ‘work’ is.”

“Huh? What does that mean?”

“Well,” Aelita hesitated for a moment, “I found that whenever I need to learn something new, it takes me a bit to get it right, you know? And you guys are doing that with this – you were yelling before, but not now. Odd stopped bothering Ulrich. Jeremie is speaking more and more.”

Yumi was crushing her cup again, and noticed the lack of the sound of cards in the room meant the others had stopped playing Uno and were listening in on the conversation.

“From what Jeremie tells me,” Aelita continued, “Between your schoolwork and fighting XANA, you don’t get a lot of chances to do ‘fun.’ I’m glad you found a way to do it today, and that you’re all practicing it together.”

Practicing having fun.

It was a very strange way to put it, Yumi thought, her eyes sweeping over the room, as they all shared glances with each other, but not something entirely wrong. How many times did she see any of them with people who weren’t each other?

Yumi looked back at their digital friend, whose animated face was impassive, then grew more confused as she didn’t respond. She stole another glance at the rest of the room and felt her insides unclench. Her face twitched, and laughter started spilling out of her mouth.

None of them knew what they were doing. None of them – not a single one of them – knew how to do this right. This was ridiculous; they were all so stressed about playing Uno.

Maybe they did need the practice at being friends.

Her laughter subsided after a moment, and, although it wasn’t the cathartic group laugh that she was hoping for, the atmosphere in the room felt lighter than it had a moment ago. Yumi tossed her now destroyed cup the trash, reinvigorated to figure out how to salvage a night for them. All of them.

“Hey, Aelita. Why don’t you join us, this round?”

“Huh? I can’t –”

“No, you totally can,” Yumi grinned at her, “We can find a way to hold some cards up for you, and we can just play them for you.”

“Yeah!” Odd perked up as he shuffled everyone’s cards back into the deck, “That’s a great idea, Yumi! I can help her!”

And they did. Everyone seemed to be trying a little harder at keeping the mood going. It was sloppy. They still stumbled over words, still had awkward moments between rounds. But the silence was shrinking. Yumi’s competitive shouts were responded to – hesitantly at first, then more excitedly. More people laughed at Odd’s jokes, and Jeremie even made some himself.

“Can you put down my fourth card?” Aelita asked, smiling innocently.

“Sure I – SKIP? SKIP?! YOU’RE SKIPPING ME?” Odd gasped, his hand filled with cards.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you not want me to try and win?”

They laughed – all of them, finally. She wasn’t sure what had flipped the switch in the room; maybe they all came to the same conclusion she did, maybe they all just wanted to try and prove to Aelita that they did know what they were doing. Either way, the games of Uno pressed on into the night.

“Draw two, Yumi.” Odd dropped a card, grinning.

“So sorry, but I think that Ulrich will be drawing four.”

“Tough, Aelita’s drawing six.”

“If you play my third card, you will find it’s Jeremie drawing ten.”

“…Okay, I officially withdraw my support of stacking rules.”

“What, just because you’re losing?” Yumi teased him, and Jeremie – miracle of miracles – actually stuck his tongue out at her and grinned as he drew his cards.

Maybe they would figure this out, eventually.

Ulrich Stern was exhausted.

He didn’t really know what he was signing up for when he agreed to go to the game night, but whatever that was certainly wasn’t it. It had started out as horribly as he expected, but then Yumi somehow completely turned it around. Hell, the three hour-long rounds of Uno (stacking rules were a mistake, it turned out) they played with Aelita were actually, dare he say it, fun, and he left the room around two feeling a lot less crummy than he had when he walked in. He even agreed to Jeremie’s suggestion that they do it again next week, returning the exhausted smile Jeremie offered him.

“I’m going to sneak home,” Yumi said, as they headed down the hallway. “I’m not sure who I’m more scared about finding me; Jim or my parents.”

“Do you want me to scout ahead?” Ulrich asked immediately, hoping he didn’t sound too eager, “I’d get in a lot less trouble with Jim than you would.”

“Yeah, that would be great! Thanks.”

Her smile made his insides melt, and Ulrich scampered away before Odd could make fun of him for it again. It wasn’t his fault that Yumi made him happy. The whole night she was fighting to make sure they were all having a good time, and it was so nice to feel like someone cared about him. It was just a pain that he was so bad at letting her, or any of the others, know that.

A dash down the hall, a surreptitious glance right and left, down the stairs, and it was all clear. He waved Yumi over, and she was at his side faster than he expected.

“Thanks,” She grinned at him, punching him on the arm. “See you on Monday?”

“Unless XANA calls over the weekend.”

“Ugh, I sure hope not. You guys can sleep in; I have to pretend I went to bed early tonight.”

He snickered. “Goodnight, Yumi.”

“Goodnight, Ulrich.”

She disappeared down the stairs and he watched, a tired smile lingering on his face. He let himself stay for a moment longer, relishing the solitude. People were exhausting. And he still had to face one of them, even though the main activities for the night were over. He dreaded going back. He didn’t want to hear a barrage of mockery for being all too eager to help Yumi out, or more insisting that he “lose the grumpy act.” Nothing he’d ever said before had convinced Odd to shut up, and he was starting to think this was just going to be a constant part of his life.

A yawn overtook him, and he figured that needing to sleep would be a good way of getting Odd off his back as quickly as possible. He headed back to his room and went inside. Odd was there, of course, already changed into his pajamas, a finger to his lips as Ulrich shut the door behind him. “Kiwi’s asleep,” Odd whispered, pointing to the drawer that his dog slept in.

Ulrich nodded, thankful. An even better excuse; one Odd would adhere to since it was his own pet. He excused himself to the bathroom to get ready for bed, smiled at a text from Yumi that told him she got back safe, and returned to the room, a sinking feeling in his gut when he saw Odd was still awake.

“Night.” Ulrich muttered, trying to make it clear that no, shut up, not tonight, getting in bed as quickly as he could.

“Goodnight.” Odd replied, his voice smaller than usual.

Ulrich frowned, staring at the wall in front of him. Not even a single joke? Well. Better for him. He closed his eyes.

“Hey… Ulrich?”

He opened his eyes.

Maybe if he didn’t say anything, Odd’d think he was already asleep.

“Ulrich, are you awake?”

No. He thought, as if that would work.

“I’m going to assume you are and you’re just being a grumpy butt again.”

He hated his life.

“Listen, Ulrich I… I’m sorry about earlier. I don’t know really what – I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. And I’m sorry if that screwed up game night and… I dunno. You’re all my friends, and we should try and do these things! It was fun, after a while, right?”

Odd trailed off, and Ulrich stared at the wall in front of him as if it magically had all the answers to the asked and unasked questions Odd posed, the ones that haunted Ulrich. He had a million things on his mind, a million responses to make, a million confused feelings clenched in his gut.

“And I guess I – I feel like I’m doing something wrong with you, Ulrich. I want to be friends, and I – I dunno. I’m sorry.”

“…I didn’t think sorry was in your vocabulary, Odd.”

“Rude.” Odd shot back, but without any venom. “Friends?”

He let the question sit for a moment, and Ulrich smiled, thinking of the laughter they all shared as Aelita destroyed them for the third time in a row.

“Yeah. Yeah, we are.”

#code lyoko #mary blabs #code secret santa #wowee look a fanfic i havent attached one of those to this tumblr in years

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs “Christmas.”

wrote this based on a request for fluff, so I have delivered the fluff. There is a certain group of you who will probably be a little bit made at me when you finish :)

But here is the token Christmas episode, and I hope you all like it

“Alright, try it now.”

“But Commander, I'll have to pull power from the reactor core.”

“I said do it airmen, did it sound like a question?”

“Yes, sir.”

A sudden eruption of lights exploded about the mess hall, and down the hallways of the ship, thousands of tiny twinkling lights. Krill, having been walking to speak with the Commander paused at the entrance to the room and spun around in wonder. Lines upon lines of lights had appeared out of nowhere to be projected around the walls of the room and down the hallways of the ship. They weren’t bright or anything, instead an almost delicate yellow in color gently twinkling like the light of distant stars.

“Get those overhead lights off,”

With a loud thud, the lights switched off, casting the room into the warm ambient glow of those thousand twinkling lights. He spun in a circle staring up at the ceiling, shocked to find a mosaic of falling snowflakes, which faded and vanished before hitting the floor,

“Give me more fall-off on that snow airman. Tomorrow better be magical or someone is getting their ass fired.”

He turned his head again eyes widening in geater wonder as they fell on the center of the room. The flickering, projected hologram of a massive tree. It was one of those furry looking earth plants that could reach higher than thirty feet tall, though this one only nearly brushed the ceiling. It stood in the middle of the room decorated by hundreds more twinkling lights, yards of red ribbon and shiny glass balls. Atop the tree, there was projected the human caricature of a star glittering with firelight.

Tongues of phantom fire licked against the far wall, under a mantle of stone and brick.

Krill turned in another wide circle as the strange lights flickered around him, reminding him strangely of the space walk he had gone on with the commander so long ago, stepping out into the darkness surrounded by stars, alone in the vastness of space, but where that had been cold and distant, this was a close warmness that filled him up from the inside and made him feel oddly warm.

Soft footsteps behind him and then a pause.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“What is it?’

“Realistically, more than four thousand years of pagan-christian and corporate tradition.” Krill looked up to find the array of glittering lights reflected against the human’s bright green iris. His voice grew soft, though it stayed warm, “More romanticized…. This is…. Home. This is childhood and imagination, and family wrapped in a box and tied with a bow. This is being warm when its cold and loved when you’re alone. This is comfort on the edges of space when earth is a trillion lightyears away and you may never go back.”

“Feeling a bit poetic today I see?’

The Commander shrugged, “Maybe a little…. Kind of homesick too.” he sighed, “This is the first year I won’t be celebrating Christmas with my family.”

“Christmas?”

“Yeah, I’m not exactly sure what it meant to other people, but when I was a kid, it was mostly just a day to celebrate our family…. Mom loves Christmas, she goes all out every year, even when things were tight…. She always managed to make things special. One year dad snuck out in the middle of the night and left reindeer tracks in the snow to convince us they had been there.”

“Er, Reindeer?”

“Ah, never mind. I’ll tell you about it later. Important thing is getting everything ready for tonight. If you want to see the real magic.”

Krill stared at the commander as he walked away not entirely sure what the hell that was supposed to mean. He was trailed by a rather grumpy looking Glados. In the past few months the adaptid had grown to the size of a medium sized dog, and the Commander was, more and more, forcing her to walk on her own, Which she didn’t much like.

Krill glanced around at the lights one last time before returning down the hall and towards the medical bay. All across the ship crew members were busy putting up decorations, stringing strange fluffy streamers over the exposed piping.

One crew-member, in a red and a green hat with a bell on top was hanging strange plants from the tops of doorways. He looked on in confusion before stepping into the medical bay greeted by Dr. Katie, who was wearing a red and white dress with a matching hat and striped leggings. She looked like a peppermint stick...

“Good evening krlll, are you ready for christmas?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Other than it's some sort of human holiday.”

“Yeah, it’s the one day of year where people get together and give each other gifts and stuff. To some people it means different things, simply a family day or to celebrate religious figures. Just sort of depends. Some people don’t celebrate it at all, but the Commander seems pretty big on christmas, so why not.”

“Why are you dressed up like that?”

She winked at him, “Because I’m an elf silly.”

“You know this is almost the first time in half a year in which I have no understood a single word coming out of your mouth. She simply winked and continued on her way whistling happily.”

Of course the night came, and out of Character Dr. katie curled up on one of the hospital beds and fell asleep leaving Krill alone in the half darkness. He spent the rest of his time on the internet looking up information on the so-called holiday. What he found was a tangled mess of pagan-cristian-and corporate traditions just like the Commander had suggested. A lot to do with saints and demons and more information than he was willing to read all the way through at this moment. He wasn’t a xeno historian after all.

The night wore on, and he sensed a strange stillness in the air around him caused by the ambient light leaking in from the hallway, warm and fiery.

It was close to two in the morning when a knock came on the door to the medical bay. Dr. Katie stirred and sat up adjusting her dress as she ran over motioning Krill after her. Curiously he followed after her, stepping into the hall to find….. More than a strange sight. There was Conn, draped all over in glittering tinsel to add to his flowing ribbons. A couple other humans were dressed in the strange red and green costumes with pointy hats and bells on their shoes. Waffles, the dog, was sitting just before the door wearing a fake pair of antlers, her tongue lolling happily from one side of her mouth. Sitting with her were the three adaptids in similar states of dress glados looking cowed but a little more than miffed to be there. Both of them were covered in bells as well, and all of that strangeness arrayed around the weirdest thing of all, a very large fat man in a blindingly red suit, and big white beard.

He moved forward ad Dr. Katie hopped over to join the strange party grinning and giggling as she patted waffle’s head. The dog licked her hand, “You make such adorable reindeer.” She reached down to pat Glados next, and the adaptid sulked, but didn’t try to bite her as she might have done with someone else.

“HO HO HO, Merry Christmas!” Said the big fat man, and looking up into his eyes, Krill suddenly grew very suspicious. He had only ever seen a shade of green like that on one human.

“What the hell have you done to yourself.” he demanded.

Adam raised an eyebrow, though most of his face was covered by a beard, “I have no idea what you’re on about.”

Krill was horrified, “Look at you…. How…. how do you gain that much weight in such a short amount of time. Are you mad? Are you ok? Are you going to die of a heart attack in the next fifteen minutes because something tells me this can’t be healthy.” He glared at the human, “When were you going to tell me that humans could just spontaneously gain an enormous amount of weight. Whatever this is, it is an immediate medical emergency. Plus the beard, some serious hormonal dis-regulation I can’t even begin to imagine what sort of-”

“KRILL! Its a suit, a costume, I didn’t just spontaneously gain weight.” The human adjusted his beard voice sounding more normal now that he wasn’t trying to make it deeper, “I’m Santa Claus?

“And who is that supposed to be?”

“Well, he is the physical embodiment of the spirit of Christmas. Legend says, he lives at the north pole, and works with the elves making toys all year round. He keeps to lists, and on one list appears the name of all the well behaved children, and on the other list appears the names of the naughty children, he will check both lists twice, and there is no point trying to trick him because he sees everything. And then on the night of Christmas, he gathers all the presents into the back of his sleigh, which is pulled by nine magical flying reindeer. Then, he takes all night to to fly all around the world delivering presents to kids. Most of the time he comes down the chimney, if you have one. He will fill stockings (socks) hung over the fireplace with small toys and then put the big presents under the Christmas tree. If you were a bad kid than he wouldn’t leave a present, but a lump of coal instead. Generally it is recommended that one leaves some cookies and a glass of milk out as a thank you, oh, and carrots for the reindeer.”

….

There was silence for a long moment, “What in the name of beelzebub's balls kind of story is that.”

Even through the beard he could tell that Adam was frowning, “Stop being such a Grinch. It’s a great story, to help kids behave, and keep the magic alive for a little while before you become and old cantankerous adult that doesn’t believe in anyone or anything anymore.”

“And what is a grinch.”

“A grinch is an angry green person who hates to see other people happy….. Arguably they also hate corporate Christmas, but I digress. Scrooge is also someone who doesn't get the point of Christmas, and both are definitely insults, now come on. You are joining me and my elves while we go deliver presents.”

Before he could protest, he was presented with pointy hat with a bell on it, and forced to follow as they wandered silently off down the halls.

Adam pulled out a clipboard, “Alright everyone, our list here says that approximately 85% of the crew celebrates Christmas, but we will still be delivering presents to everyone because we are nice and that is what we do. Nobody is expected to join in tomorrow but everyone is invited because we aren't trash humans.” Glados and Waffles walked at his heels as the rest of the humans followed behind lugging large bags over their shoulders, “Alright Katie, you’re with me in filling the stockings, the rest of you are charged with leaving a trail to the mess hall where the actual presents will be, one for everyone at least, no one is left out. Corporal, you get the people who don’t celebrate Christmas, and just leave the gifts outside their doors. Make sure to leave the notes for them as well so they know they are invited if they want to come.”

“Yes s…. Ur Mr. Claus?”

“Damn Straight.”

“What about the Drev?”

“I am including them in the list of people who celebrate simply because I want them to have the experience once before they decide whether they like it or not. Everyone should get the chance to at least choose.”

It too nearly the next few hours to get things done. Krill Accompanied the Commander, Conn, waffles, and the Adaptids as they jingled quietly up the halls slipping into rooms where crew members had been instructed to leave socks hanging from their bed frames.

On more than one occasion Krill watched as a very confused human, light sleeper, sat up and watched blearily as they exited the room with a confused look on their faces. Some seeming even amused. The heavier sleepers didn’t notice a thing.

They reached the Drev and Marine quarters at some point towards the end of the night, making it through one relatively quickly, but just as he was about to step into the last room, Glados growled and snapped at his boot.

Commander…. Santa? Looked down and harrumphed, “Someone here is going on the naughty list.” Katie and Krill leaned forward as a light shined down on the delicate silver trip wire cut across the door.

Katie snorted, “Coal.”

Quietly, he stepped over the line and into the room Glados leaping behind him. “Alright which one of the naughty children is trying to capture St. Nick?”

Krill turned on his thermal vision and could see the vast majority of the marines were not sleeping.”

He turned to look over at Krill and Conn, who motioned in the direction of one of the beds. He walked quietly over leaning next to the ear of the ‘supposedly” Sleeping marine, “I see you when you’re sleeping Ramiez .”

There was an eruption of uncontained giggling around the room, which was rather strange coming from the large, muscular humans.

“Oh…. kinky.” A muffled voice whispered from somewhere.

More giggling.

“Is that you Santa?”

“Guess who's getting coal for Christmas.”

He turned towards the door.

“Wait, wait, Santa, wait! I have a question. “

He paused in the doorway raising his eyebrows at the marines who were sitting up, “What?”

“How did you get here without reindeer?”

He wagged a finger at them, “Very carefully. You better thank my elves, they had to get degrees in engineering, physics and rocket science to get me here. And what is worse, my Star-sleigh was pulled by a bunch of snarky starborn led by that one.” He pointed towards Conn, “he almost guided us into a black hole, so you better be nice and leave me out some cookies next year.”

He stepped over the tripwire and back out into the hallway allowing the door to shut closed behind them.

Outside there was a trail of tinsel and strange footprints leading away from the doors and down the halls. He left the bag just outside the door with the rest of the stocking stuffers in it, not ever having intended to leave the marines with just coal.

They took one last jingling run up and down the halls for effect before retreating to the mess hall where they promptly passed out on bean bags by the holographic tree in front of the holographic fire.

Glados crawled up onto the fake belly and curled up there glowering at anyone who got to close. Waffles and the other adaptids curled up just to the side.

***

Sunny woke up early the next morning thinking how odd it was, that strange tinkling sound in the middle of the night. She sat up looking over at the sock she had been asked to place in her room. She had been forced to borrow it from someone considering she didn’t wear socks, and was surprised to find something sticking out of it.

She wandered over and tipped the contents into her hands surprised to find an earth flower, and some miscellaneous items of use for her work down in engineering.

Curiously, she opened the door into the hallway idly munching on the flower, and found a trail leading from her door and down the hall. The scene surprised her, and she wasn’t entirely sure what to think. It clearly had the intention of being followed, and curious, she followed finishing off the flower as she came around the corner dropping the stem in surprise when she saw the room before her.

Hundreds of holographic lights, a tree, fire, piles of blankets and beanbags and lounging humans half asleep. Conn was floating up near the ceiling trailing tinsel. Krill was hovering beside the tree looking more than a little confused. Dr. Katie was moving wrapped gifts below the tree dressed like a peppermint stick.

Adam….. Well Adam was peeling off a suit that added about two hundred pounds to his frame. It seemed as if there had also been a fake beard and massive coat, as far as she could see. Took him a few seconds to wriggle out of the boots and oversized pants dumping them on a chair close by leaving him in a white shirt and military issue olive green pants.

He looked up from where he had dumped his costume and grinned at her.

She walked closer.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Erm…. Merry Christmas?.... What’s a Christmas.”

“Apparently it’s a human holiday perpetrated on the idea that a magical fat man in a red suit, flies around the world on a magical sleigh pulled by magical non-flying flying mammal to deliver presents to children who were good…. Oh also he watches you when you sleep.” Sunny stared at Krill in confusion.

Overhead Conn was mimicking voiceless laughter.

“Don’t mind him, he's being a little grinch as usual. Come on, we’re just waiting to give people time to show up, and then we are gonna open presents.”

“How did you manage to get something for everyone?

“Well I asked for help number one, but number two, what else am I supposed to do with my money. I mean I have a place to live, a place to sleep, entertainment, food, anything a guy could as for, so I just threw a paycheck or two at it. Otherwise its just sitting in my bank account collecting dust until I can find something dumb and nerdy to spend it on…. I thought…. Well I thought this would mean more than getting myself a light-saber or something.”

She stared at him for a long moment, “You are such a…. Sap.”

He smiled, “Maybe a little. I mean it's not much, anyway, but it made me feel good.”

She paused, tilted her head, and then hugged him. He seemed a little surprised one eye peering up at her from a four- arm embrace. He didn’t say anything until she let him go and he stepped back to look at her, “What was that for?”

“You…. well. You… deserve it. And I don’t think you get reminded enough.”

She thought she saw a little bit of red creeping up his neck and he looked down at his feet, waving it off, “Nah, if you knew what went on inside my head, you wouldn’t say that.”

She decided not to argue with him, humans were horrible with accepting compliments sometimes. Instead she found herself sharing music with him as they lay on one of the beanbags waiting for the others to arrive.

He had his eyes closed appearing as if he was sleeping through she knew he probably wasn't . At some point he adjusted himself so that his head was resting on one of her arms, using her like a pillow. A few more people started to trickle in, including the marines, one of which, Ramirez, was wearing bright red footie pajamas and walked over to claim a bean bag just to the wide.

Adam opened an eye and looked over at him, “What the hell are you wearing.”

“My footie pajamas.”

“Yeah I got that…..”

“Don’t diss the footies..”

“ Yeah sure, anyway what would have happened if I stepped on the trip-wire?” Sunny lifted her head at the mention of a trip wire.

Ramirez grinned, “it would have been pretty glorious, that’s what, but guess you will never know.”

“Rude.”

A few of the other marines wandered in blearily, CJ, Davis, and maverick who took a seat cross-legged on the floor her short blond hair sticking up in all directions like the open wings of a bird.

Finally The commander determined it was time and began handing out the presents, first to the more introverted people, who he figured could take their present and head off if they really wanted. A few of the non-Christmas-people showed up just to hang out causing a sort of slow trickle in and out of the room almost constantly.

Krill and Conn were both presented with gifts, Krill who just happened to get a little cube that was advertised as holding about a million different puzzles of all different types and at varying levels He seemed pleased, though he insisted on his patrol through the room to make sure the humans weren’t doing anything stupid.

Conn was presented with some sort of hand-held gaming system, actually relatively cheap compared to what they used to be.

He loved it.

ANd based on Commander Vir’s smug expression, he had done it on purpose, probably to keep the starborn out of his head.

Sunny was standing at the back of the room watching the humans rather fondly, as well as the other Drev, who seemed to be enjoying themselves as much as the humans. Her brother and Maverick were causing trouble across the room and nearly giving krill a conniption. Watching all of this, she still noticed Adam approaching from the side holding one last box.

He held it up, “One more present left.”

She turned to face him, “For you.”

He held it out, “Well you, obviously….. I sort of waited till last because…. Well you technically got more than everyone else. My Mom sent a few things up, and I just added her gift to mine.”

Sunny took the box and looked up in surprise, “Your mom…. But she…. She hates me.”

A small smile, “I think she's come around. It’s just taken her a while. I think this is supposed to be an apology. It's pretty cute, I think you should wear it.”

Out of curiosity, she opened the box and looked inside to find a piece of fabric neatly folded on top. With her upper hands she reached to unfold it, whatever it was it was made out of very warm material, “What is it?”

“I guess it's called a cowl. She thought it would be something she could make that wouldn't get in the way of you wearing armor, and, since you guys sometimes wear capes, it would also go with that. Here try it on.” He took it from her hands standing on his tip-toes to pull it over her head and shoulders. Turned out it was pretty much just a hood, unattached to anything and that really only covered the head and shoulders.

She peered out form inside, to see him grinning.

It was a funny picture, though she could see out, really the only think everyone else saw was the end of her snout/beak peeping out from under the hood. She lifted her head, and the hood fell a little further over her eyes.

He laughed, and helped her pull it back a bit, “She thought since you guys are more… warm weather creatures, that you could probably use one of these on our expeditions.”

“You should tell her thanks, from me.”

“I will.”

She looked back down inside the box and was surprised to find it was full of different kinds of flowers. She looked back up at him in surprise, “How did you get these out here.”

“Wasn’t easy, tell you that.”

She leaned down snapping one of them up rewarded with a very light fragrant flavor. It was pretty nice, but then she looked back at Adam to see him smiling nearly dropping the box when she realized, “You! Where is your present. Didn’t you get anything?”

He just broke into a smile, “Sunny, I’m friends with like seven different kinds of aliens, I Command an entire FLEET of spaceships, and have like 300+ friends. I got my childhood dream, so what else do I need?”

She paused sure he was right, but also feeling bad.

They stood there together, looking out at the room when Ramirez glided past still in his footie pajamas. As he did his eyes widened a bit and he paused a slow grin spreading over his face. Adam gave him a very confused expression, but Ramirez just shook his head and pointed up before gliding away.

In confusion both Sunny and Adam looked up.

Sunny tilted her head.

“What is that?”

She turned her head down to look at Adam and found the man’s skin changing color again. “Er….. it’s…. That appears to be…. mistletoe .”

She lifted her head again to stare at the strange plant, “Oh….. like in that Christmas movie….”

“Yeah…. Like in that…. Christmas movie.”

“Oh.”

They both looked down at about the same time. The way the Christmas lights interacted with the UV patterns on his skin, turned the usually blue, turquoise pattern on his skin almost electric lightning blue. The green in his eyes was more potent with the way the light refracted in them. Little twinkling lights danced over the polished surface of her bright-blue carapace.

He didn’t look away.

Neither did she.

And then a small brown shape came screaming from nowhere cutting between them. They both stepped back in shock, and Krill roared past grabbing the plant from where it hung, “Reeeeeeeeeeeeeee! NO, NO, NO, NO STUPID IDIOTIC HUMANS HANGING POISONOUS THINGS WHERE ANY OTHER STUPID HUMAN MIGHT EAT THEM! I WILL NOT HAVE IT YOU HEAR ME. I WILL NOT” and then he went roaring away trailing laughter in his wake. Slowly Sunny and Adam turned to look at each other before doubling over racked with fits of laughter. Adam ended up on the floor leaning against the wall, just below where Sunny propped herself.

Just when they thought they'd stop laughing, they started up again.

“Damn…. Crazy…. Bastard.” Adam Wheezed crawling to his feet

“Did you hear that sound he made?”

“Yeah, classic Krill….. Anyway.” He paused shuffling his feet, “Wanna go, push Ramirez over or something?”

“Sounds fun, I’m in.”

“Sweet.”

By the end of the hour, Ramirez was upside down in a pile of bean bags everyone laughing at his expense.

All in all, it was a pretty good Christmas

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