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justcourttee · 4 years

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The Ice Queen

So, @long-lost-peace was messaging me and they came up with this brilliant idea that Marinette leaves Paris and transfers to the school that Felix attends. When the class visits one day, they’re shocked to see the Marinette they once knew is gone, and in her place is an Ice Queen.

This is Felinette and my best attempt at doing their amazing idea justice.

Marinette had no idea how she had gotten there.

Well, that was a lie. In all honesty, it had happened so fast. The minute she told her parents that she was applying for the design program in a London school, they were more than happy to help her pack weeks before she even received her acceptance letter. They knew she needed a break from the school and what better way than throwing herself into something she loved?

The train ride was only two hours and sixteen minutes.

Her parents helped her set up her new room in the campus suites and exchanged tearful goodbyes before she found herself alone soon enough. She took it upon herself to explore the new city, snapping pictures and jotting down all of her quick bursts of inspiration that came from the beauty of the sights. When she had returned, she found a small brunette rummaging through her closet as if it were her own.

“Uhm, I’m sorry, but can I help you with something?”

The girl didn’t even bother responding as she pulled out a top, holding it against herself for a moment before shaking her head, placing it back in the closet. Marinette looked down at her purse where Tikki’s head was peeking out in curiosity, their head cocked to side much like how Marinette looked.

“Well, uhm, I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng and I am assuming you’re my roommate?”

The girl finally looked up from her rummaging, offering Marinette a half cocked smile.

“Ah, you’ve finally arrived. You’re the new fashion major right? Do you think you could help me pick out an outfit that would impress even the most stone hearted person?”

Marinette opened her mouth but shut it just as quickly as the girl pulled out yet another one of her tops.

“Is that a no fashion major?”

Marinette shook her head, trying to regain her voice.

“I’m sorry but could you stop going through my clothes?”

The girl shrugged before stepping backwards, taking a seat on the edge of Marinette’s bed. “My name’s Kayla, guess I kind of forgot that. Anyways, I need your help, new girl. Felix is coming to the party tonight and he’ll never notice me if I keep dressing in the same drab. I need something new and exciting, can you manage that?”

“Kayla! I thought we were going to greet her together!”

Marinette spun around to face the girl that stood in her doorway pouting. Her head was swimming as two girl’s bickered about her arrival, completely oblivious to the shade of pale she had turned.

“-you are just so rude! I mean going through her clothes without her permission? A woman’s closest is an extension of their soul and, hey, Marinette, are you alright?”

Marinette’s eyes came back into focus as she loosened the tight grip she had on her purse. She managed a small nod, before lowering herself into the chair by her desk.

“Okay good, omg, where are my manners? I’m Delilah! And I’m sure you’ve already met Kayla, I’m so sorry in advance, my friend has no personal boundaries and refuses to learn them.”

Kayla simply shrugged from her spot on Marinette’s bed, her eyes still scanning her closet as if willing the perfect piece to fall into her lap.

“It’s nice to meet you both, I’m sorry it’s just, it’s my first day here and-”

“And that’s perfectly okay! You take all the time you need to get ready for the party tonight and if you need any help at all, Kayla and I are right down the hall! Let’s meet in the living room at 7 so that we can all go together kk? Great!”

Without another word, Delilah gathered Kayla’s arm pulling the girl out the door before she could protest, slamming it shut behind them. Marinette waited a moment to be sure no one was going to pop back in before she opened her purse, allowing Tikki to fly out.

“Oh my, they were very lively huh?”

Marinette simply shook her head, a tired smile gracing her face.

“Tikki, I think I need a sympathy nap for Delilah. I mean, she talks so fast and in such an upbeat manner, I don’t know how she can keep that up for hours on end.”

The kwami chuckled, their eyes scanning over Marinette’s room.

“Wow Mari, this room is huge! You can totally keep up like three projects just in that corner alone!”

“I know Tikki! This school takes their majors very seriously. If I remember right, Delilah is a gymnastics major and Kayla is a business one. I wonder how their rooms look.”

“Well, why don’t you go find out?”

Marinette shook her head as she stood, taking the few steps before collapsing face first on her bed.

“Nap first. If I’m going to some party tonight, I need this time to recharge.”

Tikki rolled their eyes at Marinette, opening their mouth to sass the young girl, but closing it instead upon seeing their chosen one already knocked out.

“Sweet dreams Marinette.” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Delilah wasn’t joking.

She was already standing in the living room at 6:50, her foot tapping away as she waited for her roommates to join her. She practically had a heart attack when Kayla was one minute late, dragging both girls by their hands down the stairs in full lecture mode.

“-and we’re gonna miss him arriving! You know he always is so over the top!”

Marinette had no idea who this ‘him’ was, but it was beyond obvious that both girls were crushing hard. She tried to remember the name Kayla slipped earlier, but her brain refused to provide it to her. She simply listened intently to their many stories, biding her time until she could meet the mysterious him.

“Ah, we’re here. Quick, ladies, how does my hair look? You know Felix is a perfectionist, he can’t have his future wife with one strand of hair out of place.”

Kayla muffled her laughter with her hand as she helped Delilah brush a few strands behind her ear.

“You know Delilah, he can only be your future husband if he chooses you over me right?”

The girl’s face morphed into one of mock hurt as she placed her hand dramatically over her chest. Marinette couldn’t focus on their interaction though. Instead her head was somewhere else.

They couldn’t mean Felix Graham de Vanily right? She wasn’t that unlucky to transfer out of one school that housed Lila into another that housed Felix right?

“Omg, there he is!” Delilah’s squeal broke her thoughts as Marinette turned slowly to where both girl’s gazes sat. Instantly, she felt her heart stop.

“Hi Felix! Have you met Marinette yet? She’s my new roommate!”

Marinette’s face reddened as she tried to back step and hid behind Kayla, but both girl’s were insistent on showing her off. She saw Felix’s eyes narrow in on her, only confirming what she already knew.

“Marinette right? Would you care for a dance?”

It was her turn to narrow her eyes. What did he have planned? Felix was no gentleman offering the new girl a good time, no, he was a lying and deceitful scoundrel who couldn’t be trusted and-

“She would love to!” She felt Delilah’s hands on her back, pushing her into him. Her panicked eyes shot back to where the two girls stood giving her thumbs up. If only they knew.

Felix led her to the middle of the floor, his hand resting at the base of her back as they gently swayed to the music.

“Dupain-Cheng, tell me, do you desire my cousin so much that you had to move to London in hopes of the distance making him long for you? It’s quite the elaborate plan.”

“Excuse me? Exactly how pathetic do you think I am?”

“Do you want me to honestly answer that question?”

Marinette cut her eyes to the boy’s smug face, every fiber in her begging her to smack that look off.

“Besides, I don’t even like Adrien any more. He chose what was more important to him and in the end, that wasn’t me.”

Felix cocked his head to the side as if seeing the girl in a new light.

“So you’re done with your sorry crush on my cousin?”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

Felix’s smirk grew with every passing moment and honestly? It was starting to freak her out.

“Can you please wipe that stupid look off of your face?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he spun her out, drawing her in so that her back was pressed against his chest. His ear dropped down to her ear as her breath hitched in her throat.

“Let me tell you a little secret Marinette. You care too much. Try caring less, it would be a much more fitting look.”

As the song came to an end, Felix released her hand, offering her a mock bow before slipping into the crowd, leaving a flustered Marinette replaying his words on repeat in her head.

It would be a much more fitting look.

She wanted to pull her hair out in frustration. This was only her first night and he was already under her skin. In that moment, Marinette made up her mind. She would avoid speaking to Felix Graham de Vanily for the rest of her time here in London, even if it was the last thing she did. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Unfortunately, her vow didn’t even last one day.

Her roommates swooned over that first night, insisting that she was coming to every hangout as the newest contender for Felix’s affection. She tried to brush it off, tell them she wasn’t interested, but it was useless.

“You two had so much passion when you were dancing, the looks on both your faces, ah, beautiful. Even you can’t deny that he’s pretty!”

Delilah’s words set her fate in stone as she began seeing Felix regularly from lunch dates to movie nights to days out on the town. Their friend group welcomed Marinette with open arms, ready to drag her off at every chance.

When it came to their outings, she almost could attempt to ignore Felix’s smirks and sly comments all thrown in her direction. Her new friends helped her outgrow her fears and insecurities, Felix helped her become better at ignoring and dishing out insults. By the end of her first year in London, Marinette felt better about herself then she had in years.

At least until her teacher pulled her aside delivering the worst news she could’ve possibly imagined.

“Marinette! Your old class from Paris is coming to visit next week and we were wondering if you could translate for them. They’ll be touring our institute before continuing on with the tour of the city and to my knowledge, you are our only student who speaks fluently in both French and English.”

Marinette’s head was shaking before the teacher could even finish her sentence.

She didn’t want to see them again, she had finally gotten to the point in her life where all the damage they had done was gone. It was like a terrible dream, a relapse into her old self. She couldn’t do it, she-

A gentle hand settled on her shoulder bringing her back down from her near panic attack. Sheepishly, she peeked up to where Felix stood, his face unreadable.

“Mrs. James, I would like to translate as well. My cousin is in that class and taught me French quite some time ago. Between the two of us, Marinette and I can take on this assignment.”

Marinette felt her heart skip a beat as she focused in on where his hand still sat perched on her shoulder. What was that feeling of warmth slowly coursing it’s way through her body? No, absolutely not, it couldn’t be.

She watched as the teacher walked away leaving the two of them in an abandoned hallway, a silence filling the space. Slowly, Felix withdrew his hand before shoving it into his pocket, taking off in his usual brisk pace.

Marinette stood dumb founded in her spot, unsure whether to follow when his voice snapped her to attention.

“Come on Dupain-Cheng, we haven’t got all day.”

She shook off her nerves before practically jogging to catch up to the blonde. Falling in line with his pace, she kept her eyes straight forward, even when she felt his fingers interlock with hers. She swallowed hard, willing her heart to stop somersaulting through her body.

“We’re going to face them together okay? We’re going to show them the ice queen that you have grown to be.”

Marinette couldn’t trust herself to speak, instead choosing to nod in agreement.

“Good, after all, this new you is a much more fitting look.” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A week came and went and Marinette found herself in front of the school building swallowing her nerves and steadying her face.

Taking Felix’s advice, she ditched her usual pigtails and outfit for a much edgier look complete with a high ponytail and more make up than she cared for. At first, she wanted to argue saying a new look could do nothing for her, but as Kayla finished placing the scarlet red on her lips, Marinette couldn’t stop staring at herself in the mirror.

The girl looking back was beautiful, confident, and most importantly cold. A befitting look for her new title as Ice Queen.

When the double decker pulled to a stop in front of the school, Marinette’s nerves began to swallow her. She wanted to ditch her position, trust that Felix could handle them and hide in her suite until she was sure they were gone. But a certain hand on her shoulder calmed her every frayed nerve as she straightened her posture, willing her face to remain as unexpressive as possible.

As the first of them began to unload, Felix leaned in, his breath tickling her ear.

“After this, they won’t forget you Marinette.”

He straightened back up, his small smile fading back into his own expressionless gaze.

Alya was the first to recognize her, her face contorting into a look of horror as she shook Nino’s shoulder, pointing him in Marinette’s direction. Slowly but surely, the word spread through the class the Marinette was here, waves of emotion crashing down.

Her old friend began to make her way toward where Marinette stood, but Madame Bustier reigned her back in, allowing the guide to welcome the class through Felix’s translation. Marinette scanned the crowd looking for one face in particular but alas she was nowhere to be found.

Adrien was though. Front and center, his mouth agape as he stared at Marinette’s new look. Through the day, Marinette could’ve sworn she counted over a dozen flies that he caught, but that didn’t stop from his hanging jaw.

It was easy work, translating. She would speak as nonchalantly as she could, never making eye contact and always looking as bored as she could. The waves of agitation spilling from Alya almost made her break character several times, but she kept reminding herself that her and Felix could laugh later, now was for taking a stand.

“Alright everyone, take an hour of free time but please, meet back in front of the school at 3:00 on the dot.”

This was the time Marinette had dreaded. It was easy to fake her new persona when there was nobody to face directly, but this was a different story.

As she thought, Alya, Nino, and Adrien made a beeline for her the minute Madame Bustier had dismissed them. Marinette turned around as if she couldn’t see them, hoping she could outwalk them, but instead she came face to face with a familiar chest.

“A queen doesn’t run Dupain-Cheng. They take a stand and fight. Now turn around, chin up, and let them have it.”

Marinette let out a slow breath before she turned back, straightening her posture and narrowing her eyes. Alya collided with her first, crushing her in a hug that Marinette didn’t bother to return.

“Girl we are so sorry, Adrien finally fessed up to us that Lila was lying a month ago and we all tried to reach out to apologize but it said your phone was disconnected-”

“That’s because it was. What makes you think I would want to hear from you now?”

Alya’s mouth blubbered like a fish out of water as she tried to gather her words together.

“Because dudette! We’re friends! And we needed you to know that we’re sorry and that you can come back to school!”

Marinette examined her nails lazily, slightly shaking her head.

“Oh Nino, we haven’t been friends for a while. In fact, I’m only here today because I was asked to translate.”

It was Nino’s turn to gape as he and Alya shared confused looks.

“Marinette, have you spending time with Felix? You know he’s not the best influence, look at how cold he’s made you.”

Adrien attempted to grab her hand, but Marinette pulled it just out of his distance. She felt the fury building up inside of her wanting to explode. She felt an arm fall over her shoulders, lightly pulling her into their side. She risked a small look up at Felix’s face that remained expressionless as he casually pushed Adrien back.

“Marinette! Don’t tell me you’re dating my cousin! I mean, he’s not even your type! I-”

He paused at the sight of Marinette’s playful smile. His eyes widened as she reached up, her hand gently grasping Felix’s jaw, pulling his lips down into hers. The kiss was short, but she swore she felt her head spinning. She was almost positive she would have fainted if he wasn’t already supporting her with his arm.

“But, Marinette, you’re my- we’re uhm-, you and me are friends! You can date your friends’ cousin!”

Marinette felt a smirk pull at her lips at the sight of her former friend’s distress.

“Watch me.”

She turned, ready to walk away, Felix’s arm still round her shoulder, but something stopped her in her tracks. Turning her head back slightly, she managed to make eye contact with the trio, their faces the perfect mixture of regret and confusion.

“Just to clarify. Felix didn’t make me cold, you all did when you turned your backs on me when I needed you the most. A frozen heart doesn’t happen overnight” she paused, her eyes meeting Felix’s, a warmth spreading through her at the sight of pride shining, all for her. “But it can be thawed in one.”

And without another look, Marinette took off, relishing in the feeling of being at her boyfriend’s side.

“Well done Dupain-Cheng, I would be kidding myself if I didn’t admit that I prefer this version of you than the stumbling girl I met years ago.”

Marinette let out a small laugh as she stood on her tiptoes, placing a quick peck to Felix’s now red face.

“I prefer this me too, and lucky for the both of us, the Ice Queen is here to stay.”

Permanent Tag List:

@ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @heaven428 @long-lost-peace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @moongoddesskiana @nach0ava @iamablinkmarvelarmy

#felinette #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng

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bright-molina · 3 years

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Emergency Contact

synopsis: Sometimes it takes an accident and the revelation that Buck is Luke's emergency contact to really bring the Buckley-Mercer (et al) Family to the same page.

fandoms: Julie and the Phantoms x 911

relationships/characters: Buckley!reader (gender neutral), Alex Mercer, Evan Buckley, Luke Patterson, Athena Grant, Maddie Buckley (all relationships are familial/platonic)

word count: 2503

warnings: mentions of minor injuries (and I mean minor, sprained ankle, minor concussion is all)

a/n: @biqherosix surprise! Catch me pushing the Buckley-Mercer family agenda cause I can. For anyone wondering, we're running with the idea that they're cousins. I honestly have no idea where this came from, I wrote it at like midnight yesterday. And it only figures that the first thing I post in forever is a crossover that is mostly self-indulgent but I promise I'm trying to get the hang of things again.

For those of y'all that haven't seen 911 but still wanna read: one, I appreciate you so much oh my gosh, two, I highly recommend it and three, all you really need to know for this one is that Buck is a firefighter with the 118, Athena Grant is a police officer, and Maddie is Buck's older sister and a 911 dispatcher. If I missed anything and you wanna know feel more than free to ask!

The absolute last thing you expected was your phone ringing well past midnight.

“Don’t answer it.”

Alex’s voice sounded from beside you, muffled by the pile of blankets he was buried under. You rolled your eyes and reached for your phone only to have him snatch it out of your grip and stuff it under the blankets alongside him.

“Give it back!”

“No,” Alex crossed his arms tighter, ignoring the second ring completely. “It’s probably Buck checking to see if we’ve gone to sleep yet, if you answer he’ll know we’re still up.”

“Like Buck would voluntarily be up right now. He’s fifteen hours into a twenty four hour shift,” You leaned back against the couch, knowing there was no tearing the phone away from Alex. “Will you at least check who it is to make sure it’s not Maddie?”

Alex groaned, loud and exaggerated, before sticking his head underneath his blankets to check your phone. You were just barely able to hear his panicked ‘uh oh’ before he put on his best fake tired voice and answered, “Hello?”

“Alexander Mercer, what are you doing awake at this hour?”

“I wasn’t awake.”

“Sure you weren’t. Give the phone to y/n.”

He was handing you the phone in a flash and you could see his wide eyes in the dim blue light coming from the living room tv. “It’s Athena.”

“Thanks, I heard. And I told you so,” You smacked him with your pillow when he stuck his tongue out and he quickly ducked back under the blankets. Whether he was hiding from you or Athena was up for debate. “Hi Athena.”

“Y/N,” Uh oh was right. You recognized the tone in her voice immediately. Exasperated and tired with a little bit of worry laced through. “You wouldn’t be able to get ahold of Buck would you?”

“I could,” You sat up straighter and Alex peeked out from under the blankets again, craning his neck to listen in on the conversation. “Is something wrong? Can’t you call Captain Nash?”

“I could,” Athena echoed your words back to you and you heard muffled shouting in the back. “But Captain Nash isn’t Luke’s emergency contact.”

“His what!”

“It’s not a big deal!” Luke’s voice. It was him who had been shouting. “I’m fine!”

“The cast you’re wearing says different,” There was a click on the other end of the line and Alex tripped over the discarded blankets and pillows as he rushed to look for the car keys. “We couldn’t reach him and Maddie was his second emergency contact but May said she went home early today.”

“Yeah, uh, she -” You put on your shoes as fast as possible and reached for the nearest sweater, one you were sure wasn’t yours. “Jee’s teething so she - she’s probably busy with her. What happened? Luke -”

“Is fine. You just focus on getting to the station and bringing Buck to Med cause he’s gotta fill out some papers. I’ll stay here with him until you do.”

“Okay. Okay we’ll be there soon.”

“Y/N put me on speaker,” Athena must’ve been able to hear the panic in your voice. She knew both you and Alex well enough to know every emotion that was running through you both at that moment. “I want both of you to listen to me. Luke is okay. A little scratched up. Maybe a bruised ego. But he’s just fine, I promise you.”

If there was anybody you trusted it was Athena Grant. So you and Alex shared a look, thanked her, and sprinted out of the apartment wondering what on earth Luke had gotten himself into.

“What do you mean you don’t know!”

“Athena didn’t tell us anything!” You shouted right back at Buck despite knowing it probably wasn’t the best idea given the time or the circumstances. Alex was a few feet away, talking quietly to Chimney to have him relay a message to Maddie. She’d be less angry if the news came from him.

“I thought he went back home,” Buck shook his head before jogging down the stairs and you followed him. He all but charged to the locker room and started shoving all his things in the duffel he always carted with him from the apartment to the station and back. “I thought he was okay.”

It wasn’t until then, until you caught a glimpse of his reflection in the little mirror in his locker surrounded by pictures, that you realized something. Evan Buckley, the firefighter, your brother who always seemed so fearless, was scared.

Buck’s mind was racing at a million miles an hour. He kept going through every piece of information he could from the last two days. Luke had promised him. Sworn he was going back home to his parents. He should’ve known better. They were too much alike and he should’ve known better.

He supposed the worrying came with the territory. The anxiety and panic and not knowing were all things he didn’t like but things he would bear if it meant making sure one of his own was okay.

He had always been protective. You were the youngest Buckley and he took it upon himself to make sure you had a better life than him and Maddie had had. Alex was family and he didn’t hesitate to give him a home when he needed one, metaphorically and literally.

And somewhere along the way the Buckley-Mercer family had grown without him realizing it. Alex had brought his band, his friends, over for dinner once and from that moment on they became a fixture in his life.

Bobby, who was surprised the first time Maddie grinned and hugged him, telling him how proud she was of him. Reggie, who was the first to accept a place in their makeshift home, needing the support and love they offered more than anything. And Luke, who was stubborn and wore his heart on his sleeve and fit right in with them.

And Buck couldn’t believe he had let them down. He couldn’t believe that he tried so hard to let Luke know he was there for him and he had failed. If he had just paid a little more attention then -

“I know what you’re thinking,” Your voice cut off his thoughts and he paused for a moment before continuing.

“No you don’t.”

“You’re blaming yourself. It’s what you always do,” You watched as he pocketed his phone and zipped up the bag. “It’s what you did when I thought I could jump off the swing and ended up with a broken arm even though you couldn’t have stopped me. It’s what you did when Alex had that really bad allergic reaction even though none of us knew he was allergic in the place. It’s what you’re doing now.”

Buck slammed the locker shut without meaning to and silently wondered how you seemed to know everything about him when he seemed to know nothing about any of you, not really. He wasn’t like you or Maddie or Alex and that had never been more clear.

“I’m not blaming myself. I just -” He sighed and walked out of the locker room, past you and Alex, and around to the drivers side of the car. He didn’t get in yet. Instead he glanced between the two of you. “I’m not Maddie. I don’t know how to tell what you guys are thinking. I don’t know how to do the things she does. I can’t help how she does. But - but maybe if I could then -”

“You’re right,” You cut him off, already knowing where he was going. “You’re not Maddie. But we don’t need another Maddie, we need Buck.”

“Y/N’s right,” Alex leaned against the top of the car and gave an easy shrug. “Maddie does family dinners every week and helps us with homework and keeps superhero bandaids around for when Reg and Bobby come back from the skate park with scrapes all over them. But you host game nights and come to every one of our practices when you’re not here and tell really bad jokes when you know we need to hear them.”

“They aren’t bad -”

“Yeah they are,” Both you and Alex answered in sync, successfully pulling the faintest laugh from Buck.

“You’re Buck,” You repeated and finally opened the door of the car. “And when Luke left home he came to you. Athena said you’re his emergency contact because he trusts you more than anyone else. We all do.”

It took less than a couple seconds for Buck to nod and get in the car, the two of you following his lead. Moments later he was speeding away from the 118 and in the direction of the hospital, determined to be where he was needed.

“You’re an idiot, Luke Patterson.”

“Wow thanks,” Luke rolled his eyes from where he sat on the couch, an action that earned him a scolding from you, and kept picking at the fabric of the pillow he was holding to him.

It was nearing mid morning and you had all gotten back to Buck’s apartment only a short while ago. The combined insistence and intimidation coming from both Buck and Athena meant the doctors had no choice but to run as many tests as necessary until they were positive Luke was fine.

Your eyes scanned his face again, a habit you’d picked up from Maddie, in an attempt to assess the damage once more to be sure nothing had gone wrong in the last ten minutes.

A butterfly bandage on his forehead above his left eye. Some scrapes on his arms from the fall. The brace around his right ankle propped up on the coffee table and some pillows. A tear in his favorite flannel that you were already patching up.

“What were you thinking?” You sighed and dropped your hands, turning in your spot beside him to look at him and read all the expressions flashing across his face. “You got hit by a car, Luke.”

“I did not!” He flinched when Alex, fast asleep across the other couch, shifted a little at the noise. Buck did the same thing upstairs in the loft, though he recognized the sound of talking and opted to listen in. “I swerved out of the way. The bike lost control and I hit the pavement but I’m fine.”

“The mild concussion and sprained ankle beg to differ,” You stared again. Luke refused to meet your eyes, refused to look anywhere around the apartment that wasn’t the pillow on his lap. He’d been doing the same thing since Buck had nearly busted down the door of the room he’d been sitting in at the hospital. “What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” Luke finally sighed, knowing you wouldn’t let it go any time soon. “I just - I did go home. At first. And i-it was okay until my mom started doing that -that thing she does. The voice, talking down, asking when I was gonna start getting serious, telling me I should do better. I tried but she wouldn’t stop saying all of it so I -” His shoulders sank and his head hung low and you moved closer. “I left.”

“So why didn’t you come back here?” You reached out, hand on his arm in an attempt to get him to hear you. To listen to you. To talk to you. “What made you think you couldn’t?”

It took a few moments but when Luke finally looked up his eyes were watering and he looked unsure. He looked scared and he was never scared. “I didn’t want to disappoint anyone else.”

“I don’t know if you know this,” You gave a sigh and leaned against the back of the couch on one arm. “But we are, historically, a pretty messed up family.”

You successfully pulled a laugh from Luke and a muffled ‘shut up’ from Alex only made the two of you laugh more. But when the laughter faded away you were left with the ghost of those doubts. Present and needing closure. To be acknowledged and reassured.

“There is nothing you could do that would disappoint Maddie and Buck, believe me,” You gave him a faint, sad smile and for a second he wondered what memories were the source of it. “And you never have to be scared. We’re your family and we’re here for you. Me and Alex and Buck and Maddie. Athena who stayed with you until we got there and after. Chimney who’s breaking the news to Maddie to save us all. Albert. May. Bobby. Reggie. You have all of us. I hate to break it to you but you’re a part of our weird little family and we aren’t going anywhere any time soon. So please, please never feel like you have to hide from us. You’re home here, Luke.”

And he believed every word. For a moment he wondered why he ever doubted it in the first place. It was evident in the way he had a designated spot at the dining table at Maddie’s place. In the way his clothes took up a good amount of space in one of the dressers upstairs. In the pair of house keys that hung on a chain around his neck. Reggie and Bobby were also given a pair long ago.

“Does one of you want to explain to me what the hell happened!” The sound of the door being thrown open startled all of you. Alex sat up quickly and Buck came barreling down the stairs to meet Maddie at the door.

Bobby and Reggie came in after her, holding piles of various items she’d insisted on bringing with. They were followed moments later by Albert carrying bags filled with takeout and then Chimney with Jee-Yun in her car seat.

It was dead silent for a moment as Maddie looked between her siblings, her cousin, and the boy she considered one of her own. They were all her family and that was that.

Finally the silence was broken by Luke leaning over in your direction and quietly asking, “Hey, does home have a place I can hide from Maddie until she’s less mad?”

“Oh, Luke,” You offered him a smile he recognized as a slightly sympathetic yet playful one. “There is nowhere you can hide where Maddie’s anger, love, and aggressive post-injury nurturing won’t reach. Good luck.”

She sat in your spot the moment you stood up and was immediately making sure Luke was okay. Her eyes scanned each injury just as yours had and when she finally let him take a breath he looked around.

All of this, the chaos that was unpacking the various takeout boxes. Setting up a little station on the kitchen island with various medical supplies. Chasing Jee-Yun around as she crawled and wobbled all around the place. Music playing softly in the background as everyone smiled and talked and felt relieved that he was okay.

This was home. Luke was sure of it.

Taglist:

Everything: @meangirlsx @cucumbers-and-olives @dream-a-little-bigger-x @fangirlangioma @jaskiers-sweetkiss @babychickanon @goddess-of-night @n0wornever @calamitykaty @hellophantoms @funsizearsonist @crybabyddl @txrii @sunsetcurvej @willex-owns-my-heart @angryknightstatesmantrash @all-in-fangirl @reg-peters @willowsbendtothewind-blog @jatplover

shoot me an ask/message to be added/moved/removed

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everythingisawayoflife · 3 years

Text

JOSH AND DONNA WEDDING HEADCANONS!!

first of all, josh wakes up, or more likely, is already awake late at night, and calls sam

“i’m gonna do it, sam”

“like now?”

“what’s the likelihood she’ll say yes?”

“at this hour, not likely.”

josh then decides to call toby directly after and is met with a lovely string of sleepy curses about how it is the middle of the night and there was no reason to call him at this “ungodly hour”

he softens when he realizes why josh called so late and that there is a reason

josh acts incredibly weird around donna for the next two weeks

one minute he’s tense with her, the next he’s as clingy as a koala bear

he asks her weird and vague questions—by proxy

he gets cj to subtly mention engagements and marriage subtly to see what donna would like

“my cousin, tracy, she just got engaged.”

“oh really?”

“yeah he asked her in central park.”

“i wouldn’t like that, being around all those strangers. but i guess if you’re in front of friends and family, it wouldn’t be too bad”

*cue cj secretly taking notes*

sam is his test dummy, as in he uses sam to practice proposing to donna

“wow you’re really bad at this”

“i’ve never done this before, sam”

“i have and i can tell you right now you have it all wrong”

sam was actually pretty reluctant but once he found out he was gonna be josh’s best man, he warmed up

josh recruits sam and toby to write a speech of some sorts

he gets so stressed about it, toby slaps him and tells him to pull what little shit he has left together

since we all agree that jed is basically like josh’s second dad, josh goes to bartlet right before he does it

little sidenote: abbey knows because cj let it slip that josh was proposing and because i believe mrs bartlet is the number one josh and donna shipper, she insists the that she’s in on it

abbey throws a dinner party in manchester that is really a disguise for donna’s proposal

donna can’t help but feel like everyone is staring at her

everyone is here: jed, abbey, toby, cj, sam, ginger, bonnie, charlie, ellie, and zoey

after dinner, abbey invites everyone into the parlor for some “celebratory”champagne

in true donna fashion, she asks what their celebrating

everyone directs their eyes to josh because well it’s his fucking turn to speak and he hasn’t said a damn word all night

josh gives his little spiel about his and donna’s relationship (with donna’s little quips in between) until he finally asks her

donna doesn’t say anything at first

then she takes the ring out of his hand, studies it, then puts it back in his hand

he thinks that it means no and so does everyone else (abbey’s silently cursing) and his eyes even start to well up despite him not wanting them to

“well, are you just gonna look at or am i gonna be the future mrs. josh lyman?”

the look on josh’s face was a mix of relief, love, and happiness—to donna, it was priceless

they kiss of course

abbey is the first to see donna’s ring

which, of course, looks like this:

josh loves saying “my fiancée”

donna secretly (not so secretly) also loves saying “my fiancé”

SUMMER WEDDING (specifically the middle of august)

abbey insists they hold the wedding at the bartlet farm and while josh initially declines, abbey sits him and down and tells him they’re gonna get married under this roof or “so help me god”

SIDENOTE: this is really me letting my inner wedding planner (and chronic self-projector) out of me so prepare yourself

PEONIES & GARDENIAS (gardenias are my favorite flower)

donna was one of those who dreamed of a white wedding but it clearly didn’t go to plan

SHE’S the one calming down josh because he absolutely is going berserk and is panicking

abbey becomes donna’s right-hand woman, going dress shopping with her and giving her advice as a former bride and current wife

donna is superstitious—she goes by the now famous rhyme something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue

her something old is a pearl necklace from her mom

her something new is a little belt that goes around the waist of her dress

something borrowed is a pink ribbon her childhood best friend tied around her wedding bouquet

the something blue are these little blue earring studs josh got for her before they were engaged

abbey helps donna pick out her dress along with cj, ginger, her mother, and bonnie

she eventually picks this dress:

AFTERNOON WEDDING

(i actually used this game to design the dress that i felt suited donna—go to azaleasdolls.com and go to exclusive games, scroll a little, and there should be that wedding game)

to be frank, i do not know what the respective bachelor and bachelorette parties would be like, but i know i would prefer to be at the bachelorette party

donna starts crying right before she has to walk down the aisle but manages to pull herself together before walking out

sidenote: jed would gladly walk donna down the aisle if her father could somehow not make it (thats just a cute one bc donna and jed friendship is totally underrated)

i’m telling you right now, this is one of the only times josh lyman has cried in front of people

he sees her walking to him and he just mentally kicks himself because he didn’t see what was so perfectly clear for everyone else

god he loves her

when donna gets next to him, she whispers “stop blubbering or you’re gonna make me ruin my makeup”

the wedding vows are unbelievably so josh and donna-esque

even sam starts crying a little bit

charlie likes to bring it up but sam denies it ever happened

“my allergies just happened to be very inflamed that day and i had spring fever”

“sam it was the dead of summer”

RECEPTION TIMEEEEE

sam’s best man speech is a little drunk but who cares it’s funny and josh and donna watch back the tape in their free time after they first get married

they have a fairly decent sized wedding

guests consist of family, friends, former and current staffers

when they cut the cake, donna 100% smashed a piece in josh’s face

it was a vanilla, three-tier cake and it was gorgeous

in response, he gently dotted her nose with frosting before absolutely demolishing a piece on her face

their first dance is to just the way you are by billy joel bc i really like that song and i’m self projecting again

josh LOVES saying “my wife”

it is “my wife this” and “my wife that”

and donna wonders why she married the dork

she takes his last name but also keeps her so she becomes Donna Moss-Lyman

she does typically go by mrs. lyman when being addressed though (she thinks it has a nice ring to it)

THEY HONEYMOONED IN ITALY—i’m talking the amalfi coast (i’m only saying that because i just happen to be a huge harry styles fan and that’s where the golden mv was filmed and we’re getting sidetracked so that was just a little tidbit)

they went to rome and to that statue thing audrey hepburn and gregory peck put their hands into in Roman Holiday

y’know this one:

in conclusion, the wedding was very beautiful and josh and donna really got the wedding of their dreams

also sidenote just because: josh and donna have three lovely children, two girls and one boy

also this post is dedicated to @stars-on-the-cuffs-of-her-jeans and @meanderingstream who inspired me to write this!

#the west wing #josh x donna #donna x josh #josh lyman #donna moss #josh and donna wedding supremacy!!#wedding hcs #sam seaborn #abbey bartlet #jed bartlet #toby ziegler #cj cregg #sidenote this took two days #pls dont let this flop i worked really hard on it #charlie young

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redchestnut · 3 years

Text

We can be Heroes (just for one day)

Summary:

At the end of the 1960s, the resistance took to the streets of Paradis demanding justice and the fall of the wall Maria.

Loving is a revolutionary act.

AO3 link here

TW: Police Brutality/Gun Violence

(I'm an idiot and completely forgot that it was supposed to be fluff until I was almost finished writing it. The ending is happy though, I promise.)

Written for Levihan Drabble Week (@levihan-drabbles).

Prompt: "Don't you have a country to run?" "My favorite person is in the hospital, the country can wait" "I don't think it works like that." "I run the country, so it does."

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

“I can remember

Standing by the wall

And the guns shot above our heads

And we kissed as though nothing could fall”

David Bowie - Heroes

"Don't you have a country to run?"

"My favorite person is in the hospital, the country can wait," replied the man, stubbing out his cigarette and standing from his elegant desk.

"I don't think it works like that," she replied. Her biting tone could barely hide the jealousy that she knew she couldn't feel.

"I run the country, so it does," he spat as he pulled on his jacket.

The woman stopped looking at him and went to the window that covered an entire wall of the large office. “The resistance is gathering strength, Goldwick. The international gaze is on you," she insisted.

"The resistance is nothing more than a bunch of idealists who do not know their place in society and would rather be starving, like the parasites on the other side. And the international union is a joke. They will not get involved unless it suits them." The man paused before opening the door. "And Catt," he called out to her, causing her to turn around, "don't forget that you are only my assistant, not my advisor. You do your job. The police will take care of the radicals. And I'm going to meet my newborn son." The man left slamming the door and leaving her alone. On the other side of the window, the landscape of the Shiganshina square was invaded by smoke. Despite not being able to hear anything, she could imagine the sound of screams of the protest and police sirens. In the background, the wall was imposing. Catt knew it was nothing more than a symbol: the barrier that would prevent ideas from the other side of the world from reaching here. The barrier that would protect the supposed freedom of Paradis from the enemy.

* * *

“We’re born free. All of us. Free. Some don’t believe it, some try to take it away. To hell with them!” The surrounding crowd cheered and shouted.

"Isn't he too young? All of them?" Hange asked Erwin next to her, as they watched Eren who was still speaking through the megaphone. “If they are friends with Levi's cousin, that means none of them have finished school yet.”

"You're right. They are young. But that doesn't mean they don't realize the truth."

"I agree, Erwin, but it's still dangerous. You know the police won't care if they catch them."

Before Erwin could respond, Levi appeared at their side. "The pigs are one block away. They have us surrounded." He said catching his breath.

"But we are hundreds of thousands, what are they planning to do?" Hange asked, annoyance beginning to appear in her voice.

"We will stay." Erwin said without looking at them, making Levi and Hange turn to see him. "We will stay here and wait for what they do. We're both hoping for the same thing. To settle it here once and for all." Levi and Hange looked at each other. Erwin had been the leader of the university movement from the beginning. They both trusted his judgment.

"I'll see if I can find Moblit on the next corner. Maybe we can put up a barricade. Slow down their advance." Hange said, before pushing her way through the crowd. She had barely advanced a few feet when she felt a grip on her arm. She turned around.

"Promise me you'll take care of yourself," Levi asked her without letting go of her arm. Her heart melted. "I promise you, Levi. You too. Don't let them catch you. Okay?" He just nodded once and let her go.

Hange was studying medicine, yet she was mobilized by social justice. This is how she ended up in one of the meetings that Erwin, a senior history student, secretly organized each week.

In the months after, and with the constant arrival of new young people interested in the events and reality of Paradis, Erwin convinced Levi, a young man from the poorest neighborhoods of the capital, to join the movement. Their relationship had been strange from the moment Erwin introduced them. But just like the revolution, the emotions between Levi and Hange exploded suddenly and without warning. In the walks home after the meetings. The quick kisses while they stuck pamphlets on the walls in the dark. The nights of wine and forbidden records that made them forget their reality for a couple of hours. However, no bottle of wine or record lasts forever. They soon discovered that there was no room for relationships and love in the midst of the people's struggle and pain, so they decided to put down their little personal revolution.

The other corner of the big Shiganshina Square was much more crowded than the one next to the wall. Hange searched all directions for the image of her friend and classmate but he was nowhere to be found. She screamed his name, but her voice was lost among the people's chants of "bring down the wall" and the sound of clubs being struck against the shields of the police. It was a warning: chaos would start soon. She could feel it in the air.

"Hange!" Someone pushed her to the ground just before hearing a deafening noise. She turned around and found Moblit's panicked face staring behind her. Someone had thrown a Molotov cocktail just a few feet from her. The police had reacted quickly and were now running into their direction. "Shit. It's already started." Moblit took her hand and started running in the opposite direction.

* * *

Levi froze. The sound of the explosion came from where Hange was supposed to be.

"I should probably get over-there-" the blurry image of something flying past him cut him off immediately. He turned quickly to meet Zeke's gaze across the street. Despite his helmet, he could perfectly identify his hideous beard. In his hands, a riot gun.

"Isn't that your brother? When were you going to tell us he was a cop?" he heard one of his cousin's friends screaming.

"Half-brother," he heard Eren reply. The anger evident in his voice.

"Ah well, my mistake. That doesn't change that he's shooting at us!"

The discussion stopped immediately. A smoke bomb fell just a few meters from them. The crowd started running scared in different directions. Some groups advanced to the front, determined to fight the police, including Eren.

"Mikasa!" Levi screamed as he watched her run after the brat. Another bomb fell near them. This time it was tear gas. Levi started coughing. "Mikasa, come here! Shit" His throat itched so much that it was difficult for him to breathe. The smoke from the previous bomb had mixed with the smoke from the barricades and it was difficult to see around. Everywhere people ran.

"I'll go with them, Levi." Erwin suddenly appeared beside him, his mouth covered by a cloth.

"Fine, but if the police catch them, you go with them too. Forget being the hero of the rebellion."

"I leave that role to you" Erwin replied, uncovering his face only to reveal a small smile. “Go find Hange!”

"Tsk," Levi complained as he watched Erwin climb onto a bench and start haranguing people about devoting their hearts to the cause and resisting. It worked, anyway. More and more people covered their faces and ran to confront the police with rocks and whatever they found at hand.

Levi took the cravat around his neck and covered his mouth. The crowds and chaos in the center of Shiganshina square forced him to advance along the side of the wall. Where the hell is she? The anxiety in his chest made him speed up until he was almost running. His heart was pounding. The sound of gunfire came from the other corner of the square. Fuck . Now he was running.

And between the panic, the worry for his cousin and his friend, the uncertainty of the future, the danger of the situation, the pain in his muscles and the adrenaline, he thought of her eyes.

And he thought of her hair and her hands and her lips.

And he realized that he had never told her that he loved her.

And he realized that they might never get justice despite fighting their whole life. That perhaps the dictator could never be defeated. Perhaps the system was like that. That maybe the poor would always be poor. And that life was cruel.

And he realized that somehow he could accept all of that. But he could not accept, under any conditions, give up what he felt for her.

His legs stopped. In the distance, Hange was on her knees helping a woman covering her face with a handkerchief, and urging her to calm her breathing.

Levi yelled her name. She turned quickly and her eyes met his. Levi saw her speaking to Moblit, who took her place assisting the woman.

Hange got up and stared at him. In the distance the sound of two explosions filled the air. The smoke increased more and more. People kept running. The screams were mixed with the sound of the sirens and the shots did not stop on either front. Despite that, Levi thought the image was beautiful. Hange shrugged and gave him a resigned half smile. Levi's heart raced again before advancing on her. Hange did the same until they finally met halfway.

"I was so worried about you-" Hange was immediately interrupted by Levi, who grabbed her hair and pulled her close to his face. The kiss they shared seemed to slow down everything around them. The chaos was suddenly nothing more than a slow motion nebula.

"I love you!" Levi screamed once they parted, amid all the noise. "Did you hear me, Hange? I want you to know that I fucking love you!"

Before she could answer, a stream of water soaked them. A water cannon had reached the center of the square and was trying to disperse the crowd.

Hange laughed out loud as Levi brushed his wet hair from his face. "I love you too, Levi Ackerman!" she shouted out before wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him passionately.

* * *

In the distance, Catt could see a young couple kissing next to the wall amid the chaos. In her hand, a fax said that General Goldwick, president of Paradis, had just been forced to abdicate, calling for early elections. Parliament, for its part, had announced the demolition of the wall.

Despite sharing different ideals, she smiled.

"To be young and not a revolutionary is a biological contradiction"

Salvador Allende (1908-1973)

#Levihan #levihan fanfiction #Levihan Drabble Week

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wipodu-ao3 · 3 years

Text

Making it work - a HTTYD fanfic

Read it on Ao3. Join the Discord!

A Fem!Hiccup AU.

Summary:

Hiccup had made up her mind. Dragon killing was not for her, no matter how much her father protested, she was done with it. She was done trying to fit in. She was going to be who she wanted to be, it's not like anyone cared.

[Ongoing]

Hiccup shut the door of the house with force. Every time! Every time she made a mistake her father humiliated her. He thought he was just raising her with ‘the Viking way’, but she knew he could do that in the privacy of their home and not outside for the whole village to see! He just didn’t… he didn’t know how to raise a daughter.

She understood that. She accepted that. But she wasn’t lying! Hiccup had really shot down a Night Fury! Well if no one believed her, she would go out on her own. Nobody cared enough to stop her. She would show them that she wasn’t lying, that she was capable of being a viking as much as they were.

Hiccup left the house using the back door, to avoid any of the taunts she would undoubtedly receive. She knew the woods of the island like the back of her hand, she spent a lot of time there. It was like a second home to her and even with the setting sun and darkness approaching she didn’t fear getting lost.

Being in the woods helped her relax and get away from… everything. From her father, from the bullies, from the scrutiny of the tribe. Her only friends were Gobber and Ruffnut, as sad as that sounded, she didn’t mind. The other teens her age weren’t that kind to her. Her cousin made fun of her constantly, the twins always joined in, but Ruffnut always did so in a teasing way, not like the cruel way the two boys did.

Fishlegs was her friend once, but ultimately he succumbed to the pressure of being one of the ‘cool’ vikings. And Arne… Arne was indifferent mostly, he didn’t make fun of her, he even helped her at some points in her life, but he wasn’t friendly either. He strived for greatness and was Stoick’s favorite without really trying.

Stoick always talked about Arne, how great the boy was, how he will grow up to be a great viking, how the boy would make a great Chief. Like Hiccup didn’t know these things, the crush she had on the boy was enough proof that she did. She hid the crush as best as she could, not because she cared what others thought, no. She hid her crush because her disinterest in the subject was the only thing keeping Stoick away from arranging a marriage with the boy’s father.

She walked through the forest with confidence, she had drawn a map in her notebook just to keep track of the places she had been already. Hiccup crossed out another place on the map, no Night Fury there. This was getting irritating. She knew that the God’s had it out for her, it was already obvious at that point! So why, oh why, couldn’t they give her a break?

“Oh, the gods hate me. Some people lose their knife or their mug. No, not me. I manage to lose an ENTIRE DRAGON?!” She exclaimed, airing her frustrations to the sky as she shut her notebook forcefully.

She slapped a branch out of her way, but it came back and caught her eye in its way. Hiccup glared at the branch with hatred, but something got her attention. The branch was snapped – scratch that – the whole tree was snapped in half. The only thing that could’ve done that would be… the Night Fury!

Hiccup followed the ditch that had been carved out by the falling dragon. She didn’t care about the dirt she got on herself as she ran forwards, twisting her ankle a bit, she didn’t feel the sting, she was too excited. As she reached a small hill peering over it, she was it. The Night Fury was there! Bound and helpless, easy to kill.

She approached the dragon carefully. It seemed to be dead already, that didn’t diminish her spirits, all she needed was a part of it to show to her father and then… then he would leave her alone, she would show what she could do and he would finally be proud of her.

“Oh, wow. I did it. Oh, I did it!” she could help but exclaim, “This fixes everything! Yes! I have brought down this mighty beast!” she boasted as she put her leg on the body.

The body under her foot moved, startling her quite a bit, she took out her dagger with shaking hands. The dragon was alive, that changed things.

“I'm going to kill you, dragon. I'm going to cut out your heart and take it to my father.” Her voice trembled, but she kept trying to reassure herself, “I'm a Viking. I am a VIKING!”

Hiccup looked over the dragon, from its bound tail to his open – oh Thor it was open – eye. She tried to steady herself, but her eyes kept going back to the frightened eyes of the dragon. Those eyes were so… human. The Night Fury was as scared as she was.

“I did this,” she whispered to herself, her voice filled with remorse.

She lowered her dagger as she started to feel guilt overwhelm her. She did this. She had taken this beast and shot it out of the sky for her own gain. Hiccup didn’t have the guts to go through with it, she didn’t have what it takes to take a life for her own temporary gain. Because with her track record, it would be only temporary.

She looked down at the dragon, the dragon had accepted his fate, but Hiccup had other plans. No one believed her, no one would know that she let the dragon go. She kneeled next to the beast, taking the bolas rope and pulling it away from the body, cutting every rope one by one. With the last rope the dragon shot up, pining Hiccup under its claws.

This was it, Hiccup hadn’t thought things through, had she? Of course the dragon would be mad! Well, with the hot breath of the dragon fanning her face, she accepted her fate. What a way to go! The tribe’s disappointment killed by a dragon, how ironic in a way.

But she wasn’t dead. The dragon had leaned in and when she thought it was all over, the Night Fury just roared in her face and flew off. She was alive! She pulled all of her strength and stood up to head back, she didn’t make it far as her vision went black.

When she woke up, it was already dark. Oh Thor, her father was probably back home and he was wondering where she was. She did not want to deal with him tonight! But she still made her way home, her bed sounding way better than the cold forest floor.

As she made her way inside, her heart fell when she saw her father still up. She sighed to herself as she tried to get pass him, she didn’t succeed.

“Hiccup.” Her father’s voice stopped her halfway up the stairs.

“Dad,” she greeted him back.

“I have to talk to you,” Stoick turned to her, his eyes widening at her dirty appearance.

“I have to talk to you too,” Hiccup agreed, she would have to tell him that she was giving up on dragons sooner or later, but sooner was better.

“I've decided I don't want to fight dragons anymore.”

“I think it's time you learn to fight dragons.”

They said at the same time, then again they spoke simultaneously.

“What?”

“You go first,” Stoick told her.

“No, no, you go first,” she insisted, buttering him up might stop him from getting angry after she told him that she didn’t want anything to do with dragons.

“Alright. You get your wish. Dragon Training. You start in the morning.” Stoick said in conclusion, without even asking her what she wanted.

“Oh, man, I should've gone first!” Hiccup was panicking, this wasn’t the plan, “Uh, 'cause I was thinking, you know, we have a surplus of dragon-fighting Vikings, but do we have enough... bread-making Vikings, or small home repair Vikings--?”

“You'll need this,” he said as he pushed an axe that he got from the wall into her hands.

“I don't want to fight dragons,” she disagreed trying to push the axe away from herself.

“Come on. Yes, you do,” Stoick laughed her statement off.

“Let me rephrase: Dad, I can't kill dragons,” she pleadingly told him.

“But you will kill dragons.”

“No, I'm really very extra sure that I won't.”

“It's time, Hiccup.” Stoick forcefully said to her.

“Can you not hear me?!” she exclaimed in frustration.

“This is serious, Hiccup!” Stoick yelped, “When you carry this axe, you carry all of us with you. Which means you walk like us. You talk like us. You think like us. No more of... this.” He explained gesturing to her.

“You just gestured to all of me,” she rebutted in offence.

“Deal?” he asked her.

“This conversation is feeling very one-sided,” She complained with a frown.

“DEAL?!” he basically shouted as he pushed the axe to her once again.

“Deal,” she sighed as she took the axe, seeing the conversation going nowhere.

“Good,” he said satisfied, “Train hard. I'll be back. Probably.” He told her as he picked up his things and left the house.

“And I'll be here. Maybe,” she whispered to herself, she looked down at the axe she could barely hold up, determination filled her, she knew what to do. “But you won’t like what I’m going to be,” she said to the empty house with a smirk.

‘I wonder what Ruff is up to?’ she thought to herself as she let the axe drop from her grasp.

#angst #fluff #httyd #httyd fanfiction #hiccup #fem!hiccup #astrid #au #toothless #tuffnut #ruffnut #snotlout #fishlegs

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torialeysha · 3 years

Text

Cold feet - Part 16

Bakers redemption

A/N: I’m on a roll guys! Your love, patience and support for this story fuels my fire for writing, a fire I thought I had lost and for that I am eternally grateful. Thank you all <3

Songs: Carry me home - Jorja Smith ft Maverick Sabre

Can’t buy happiness - Tash Sultana

Fortunately the awkwardness of the journey home was lost on you as all you could do was think about Alfie. You questioned the sincerity of his visit and wondered why it had taken him so long to realise you had lied about the ridiculous possibility of him not being the father of your unborn baby? He had asked you for forgiveness. A shot at redemption. Could you give it to him? Could you allow him another chance when he had already let you down not once but twice? Were you foolish enough to give him the opportunity to do it again? Would he do it again? He said that he had seen the error of his ways and that he really did want the baby. Did he mean it? Could you believe him even if he did? He said he could prove it to you and you were curious to see how. Silently you pondered, driving yourself insane with question after question that regrettably you didn’t have the answers to.

After a tedious battle with the London traffic the car finally pulled up outside the opulent townhouse Charles was renting. The atmosphere still frosty and tense as you crossed it’s threshold. You were in the process of removing your coat when one of the butlers collared Charles.

“There’s a Mr Changretta waiting for you in the lounge, sir.” He announced casually as he took your coat. Your hair immediately stood on end.

“Ok. I’ll be right there. Meanwhile, could you please fetch Ms Y/L/N something to eat.” Charles hands his coat to the butler then turns to you. “I won’t be long. Feel free to start without me.” He told you coldly. But you were no longer worried about food and more concerned about the fact that Luca Changretta was in the next room.

Fraught, you staggered to the dining room and began to pace, anxiously wondering what the occupants next door were discussing. You manoeuvred towards the wall that separated the lounge from the dining room and placed your ear against it, hoping that the divide was thin enough to be able to hear their conversation. Their muffled voices vibrated through the wall. You edged closer to the crack of the locked double doors that connected the two rooms and the voices got slightly clearer.

“...And you really trust this broad? You’re sure she isn’t the problem?” It was Luca’s voice.

“Of course I trust her! I wouldn’t have involved her if I didn’t.”

“How much does she know?”

“Hardly anything. She asked me some questions about the club. Why I bought it for her and why I insisted I put it in her name and not mine, but her curiosity is only natural, Luca.”

Your stomach rolled realising they were talking about you.

“What did you tell her?”

“I fed her some bullshit about wanting to give her the world.”

“Nice. So she doesn’t know anything about the money coming in from New York?”

“No, I take care of the books and I keep them locked in my safe.”

“Good.”

There was a brief silence before Luca spoke again.

“Tell me, Cuz, what are your feelings for this broad? You still intend on marrying her when this is all over?”

Cuz? Why would Luca call Charles that?

“Yes. I love her.”

Charles’ confession made you feel sick.

There’s another long pause before Luca speaks again.

“Then you have my blessing. But I’m warning ya, I don’t know if my dear Aunt will be as accepting. You know how she only wants the best for her son.”

Cousin? Aunt? Son? You felt the colour drain from your face as realisation dawned on you.

“Y/N is best for me. Now can we please stop discussing my personal life and get back to business.”

“Of course. I hear what you’re saying about the Jew but we need him alive for now. I think he’ll be able to help us deal with Thomas Shelby.”

“Solomon’s is tight with Shelby. There’s no way he’d sell him out.”

“Oh, he will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I’m going to make him an offer he can’t refuse... Don’t look so worried, Chuck, all will be revealed soon. You just carry on doing what you’re doing and remember that we’re doing this per la famiglia. Luca’s foreign tongue made you shudder. “Once Solomon’s, Shelby and Sabini are dealt with. London will be ours for the taking.”

You pulled away from the door just as Charles was asking about Sabini. You had heard enough.

It was worse than you or Tommy had anticipated. Charles and Luca wasn’t just business relations, they were blood relations. His money was their money. Your time and efforts had been in vain. Any hope of sabotaging their connection was gone. Replaced with an overwhelming sense of alarming trepidation. You had to leave. There was no way you could stay now knowing what you know.

The main door of the dining room swung open, startling you.

“I’m terribly sorry miss. I didn’t mean to scare you.” The flustered housemaid apologised as she shuffled in with your supper.

“Please don’t apologise.” You told her shakily.

“You’re white as a sheet! I must’ve given you a proper fright. Poor thing. Sit ya self down and I’ll fetch you something to drink.”

“No, no. I’m fine. It’s just-I’ve received word today that my friend isn’t well and it’s come as quite a shock. I would like to check on her to see if she’s feeling better. Could you let Mr Fenton know that I’m going to visit her and I won’t be back until later.”

“Of course, Miss, but what about your tea?” She signals to the silver tray she’s carrying.

“I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. I’ll eat it when I return.”

“Ok, Miss. I’ll put it by for later.” She took off with the tray of food and without a second thought you made for the door without even stopping for your coat or purse.

In a daze you wandered down the street, feeling hopelessly lost in a city that had been your home for 20 odd years. You headed north, knowing that regardless of your current uncertainty towards Alfie you would have to warn him and get word to Tommy. Without your purse you had no money to jump on a bus or the underground. Your only option was to trudge the busy late afternoon streets to your destination. It would take roughly an hour to get from Central to Camden, probably the same amount of time it would take Charles to suspect something was amiss. It was a distressing thought that caused you to pick up pace. To make up time you decided to take a shortcut that lead you along the river and down the canals. It was a risky move as the muddy banks of the canals were refuge to some unsavoury characters - mainly drunkards - desperate men that would find easy prey on a young woman trekking the waterways on her own.

The sun was slowly sinking into twilight by the time you had reached Camden lock. Despite your exhaustion you were relieved to have made it in one piece but you shouldn’t have spoke too soon. In the distance you could see a group of what looked like 3 men huddled together along the path which you needed to pass to get across to the bakery. Your blistered feet slowed but it was too late, they had already spotted you. You quickly tried to think of an alternative route. The only other way was to swim across but jumping in and braving the grim green water that was frothing with rubbish and other questionable substances wasn’t tempting to say the least. There was nothing you could do now except carry on walking with your chin held high as if their shady presence didn’t intimidate you. You argued with yourself as you approached that maybe you had jumped to a brash assumption and that they were in fact a harmless trio who would just let you pass without a second glance. As you got closer they rose from their makeshift perches and swayed towards you. It was then you knew that your brash assumption had been correct.

“Evening treacle.” One slurred. “What brings you down ‘ere then?” He smiled, revealing a row of yellow teeth that were gradually rotting a browny black. You ignored him and tried to pass but he obstructed you.

“Let me pass!” You ordered him.

“Now then, that’s not nice. You could at least ask nicely. Say please.” He slurred.

“Please let me pass.” You said through gritted teeth.

The other two came to stand beside him. Panicking, you tried hard to conceal the trembling of your body.

“Beg.” He tells you through a snarl.

“I love it when they beg.” One of the other men chimed in, earning a chortle from his soapy comrades.

You laugh as if joining in with their sadistic merriment. Then quick as a whippet you tried to barge through their burly blockade, effectively knocking one of the men into the drink. The middle one grabbed you. You turned as he did so, kneeing him between the legs. He dropped to the floor and you made to escape but was grabbed again by the last remaining man. His filthy hand covered your mouth, cutting you off mid scream. You thrashed in his arms. Your eyes widening as the man on the floor rose slowly.

“We’ve got a feisty one ‘ere, Del.”

“Let’s see how feisty she is once I’ve finished with ‘er.” The man you knocked to the floor was now fully upright, stalking towards you.

You closed your eyes, helplessly awaiting your fate.

“Get your filthy fucking hands off ‘er!”

Your eyes shot open at the unmistakable voice coming from behind you.

The man turned suddenly with you still in his arms. Your eyes landed on Alfie and Ollie and you wanted to cry out in relief.

“Mr Solomon’s - I was only helping the poor Lass. She was lost, ya see.” He muttered a sheepish reply. His arms loosening around you. You pushed away from him stricken and lurched into Alfie’s arms.

“Are you ok, Yahalom?” He asked, pushing away the hair from your face and checking you over for any sign of injury.

You noded, clinging to him.

“Run!” One of the men shouted and they both fled in opposite directions. The one who had hold of you tried to leg-it past Alfie who with a flick of his cane tripped him before he could get any further. Alfie pushed you to Ollie, and pounced on top of the fallen man. Savagely he landed a shocking set of bone crunching blows upon the sputtering and sobbing man on the floor.

You started to shake uncontrollably. Your chest heaving to draw in breaths.

“Alfie, stop now. You’re scaring ‘er!” Ollie yelled at Alfie who stopped immediately.

“Get ‘er out of ‘ere!” He shouted.

You felt Ollie tug on your arm.

“No-I c-can’t go-I need t-to talk to A-alfie.” You chattered numbly.

“It’s ok, Y/N. Let’s wait for him inside and you can talk to him then, yeah?” Ollie asked you soothingly. You stopped resisting, allowing him to guide you over the bridge of the canal and inside the huge double door entrance of the bakery. He set you down on a crate.

“Are you ok?” Ollie asked. Kneeling in front of you.

You shook your head from side to side, unable to speak through the loud chattering of your teeth.

“We were just leaving. You’re lucky we spotted you, ya know.”

You didn’t answer him. Instead you reached out and gave his hand a grateful squeeze.

Alfie exploded through the doors, making you and Ollie jump. His blood splattered face was a fit of pure rage.

“How many fucking times have I told you not to walk the canals on your own? If me and him would have left ‘ere half hour ago like we were supposed to, what would have happened then, ay?” His eyes flickered as he tortured himself pointlessly with the sickening possibilities.

“Alright, Alfie. Calm down, ay? We left at the right time and luckily Y/N weren’t hurt-“ Ollie started calmly before Alfie interrupted him.

“- You sure they didn’t hurt you?” Alfie asked.

“I’m sure.”

“The fuck was you thinking, Pet?” His stern voice was slightly softer now.

“I-I wasn’t-“

“-Where’s your coat?” He asked suddenly. “Them cunts take it?”

“No, I left it behind-there was n-no time- I had t-to get out of there fast-I left my coat behind along with my p-purse-I’ve had to walk from Central-thats why I t-took the sh-shortcut.” You stuttered senselessly, barely pausing to take a breath. Alfie took off his coat and draped it over your shoulders. You pulled it tightly around yourself. His musky scent clung to the heavy wool material that was still warm with the heat of his body. You inhaled deeply, feeling instantly calmer. “I couldn’t stay there, Alfie. I had to leave, I had to get out of there!”

“Calm down, Yahalom, and tell me exactly what’s happened?” He ordered, his eyes wild.

“It’s Charles. He and Lu-ca Changretta are related. They’re cousins. I-I overheard them talking. They said something about money coming in from New York and taking over London. They’re going to take down everyone in their way - you, Tommy, even Sabini. Everything Tommy said is true and there’s nothing I can do about it. We have to warn Thomas.”

Alfie exchanged a look with Ollie.

“Did he know you were listening in on his conversation?” Ollie asked.

“No. But he’ll know I’m missing by now and maybe he’ll put two and two together. I told the housemaid to tell him I was visiting an ill friend but I’m not sure he’ll believe that.”

“Right then. Well, first things first.” Alfie put his arms around your shoulders and lifted you gently from where you rested. “I need to get you out of here.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to stay here and help sort this.” You told him wilfully.

“You’ve done all you can, pet. Let me and Tommy deal with this now.”

“So all of this was for nothing? Me staying with Charles, weeks of misery and sneaking around. That was all for nothing?”

“This isn’t your fight, Y/N. It never was your fight.” Alfie sighed.

“They’re planning on killing you, Alfie - the father of my unborn baby. Tell me how that isn’t my fight?” You sobbed angrily.

He grabbed your shoulders, shaking you lightly.

“Look at me.” He said firmly. Your wide eyes rose to his. “I can handle it, right. What I can’t handle is the worry of anything happening to you. Which is why I’m getting you out of ‘ere, even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming. I’m taking you and that unborn baby of mine to safety. You ‘ear me? That’s our priority now, yeah?”

“...Yeah.” You whispered, knowing he was right.

“Come on.”

You held on to him as you walked, your weary feet stinging with every faltered step you took.

“You need me to carry you?” He asked.

You shook your head weakly.

The sun had now almost set but the brightness outside was still blinding as you emerged from the darkness of the distillery.

“Get in the car.” Alfie ordered.

You did as he said, sliding into the front passenger seat and trying to avoid looking across the canal where your attacker still lay, a lifeless crumpled, mess on the floor. You blocked it out and focused on Alfie through the windscreen instead. He was leant into Ollie, telling him something. Ollie gave him a contrite nod and handed him what looked like a set of keys. With a pat on the back, Alfie left him to climb in to the drivers seat. He started the engine.

“Isn’t Ollie coming with us?”

“Na. He’s got to sort a few things out for me.” He replied, shoving the shift stick into gear and pulling off. You watched him intently. An unsolicited heat crept over you as he manoeuvred the machine with a confident ease that you couldn’t help but find alluring.

“Where are we going?” You asked croakily.

“Let me worry about that, right. You look exhausted. Rest your head and I’ll wake you when we get there.”

Too weak to argue you did just that. Leaning your head against the window which was slick with condensation. The soft purr of the cars engine lulled you rapidly into a deep and dreamless sleep.

You were roused from your confined slumber by Alfie as he lifted you from the passenger seat into his arms. Your neck throbbed where you had laid awkwardly propped up against the window for God knows how long. You let the aching heaviness of your head rest against Alfies chest as he carried you. A whooshing noise echoed familiarly in the blustery background, intertwined with what sounded like crunching gravel beneath Alfie’s feet as he walked. Curiously your sluggish eyes peered at your surroundings. You could just about make out the silhouette of a building and an unusual looking tree against the dark blue of the night sky.

Exhausted, your head fell back onto Alfie’s chest and you buried your face in the crook of his neck to shield it from the tenacious chill of the night air. He came to a stop holding you tightly with one arm as the other searched his trouser pocket. A jingling of keys and the sound of the lock turning, then you were finally inside and out of the cold.

The smell of fresh paint and varnish filled your nostrils as he carried you over the foreign residence. After kicking the door closed with his foot, you felt him ascend a set of stairs in the darkness, effortlessly, as if he was already well acquainted with the steps. A door creaked open and then shortly after you were being lowered. You unfolded from him as he placed you on the soft cushioning of a mattress. Your head sunk into the fluffy pillows, your arms stretching across the width of the spacious bed. Your eyes opened when you realised Alfie wasn’t joining you.

“Don’t leave me.” You begged.

“Sssh.” He soothed softly. His heavy hand brushing back your hair from your face. “You’re safe now, Yahalom.”

Your eyes closed, his reassuring tone and tender touch settling you back to sleep.

You awoke with a start. Looking around the huge room that was now highlighted by an orange hue emanating from the fire that crackled and danced in the fireplace adjacent to the bed. The ceaseless whooshing you heard earlier broke in from a set of french doors to your left and you raised from the bed to investigate. Pulling back the floor length curtains that decorated them, you were shocked to see the mosaicked balcony and the beach landscape that it overlooked. At a glance it appeared that Alfie had stolen you away from the perilous situation in London and brought you to Margate - your safe haven. But what was this place? It wasn’t a B&B or a hotel because you remembered that Alfie had entered with a key - you assumed the same key Ollie had handed him before you left. You glanced around the room once more, the unfamiliarity of your surroundings causing you great unease. And it was quiet, too quiet. Where was Alfie?

You poked your nose out of the bedroom door and peeked down the length of the darkened hallway. A sliver of warm light shone from a partially open door of one of the rooms and cautiously you ambled towards it. You lingered outside, your nerves settling when you heard Alfie’s hushed tone beyond the wood.

“Did you get hold of the rabbi?”

There was a long pause before Alfie spoke again.

“I don’t care what fucking time it is just keep trying. I want him up ‘ere by the end of the week, before the fight... Yeah? Well make-fucking-sure.” You heard a crashing bang which you guessed was the receiver of the telephone being put down on whoever Alfie was talking to.

“Are you gonna stand out there all fucking night or you gonna come in?” He shouted out to you, causing you to smile.

You entered slowly, stalling in the doorway.

Alfie was sat at a desk, a much neater, more fancier desk than the one he usually occupied at the bakery.

“You alright?” He asked, watching you intently as you came to sit in front of him.

You nodded absentmindedly, too busy taking in the plush interior of the room.

“Did you speak to Tommy?” You asked eagerly, your eyes finally meeting his. He waited a moment before answering you.

“Na, I ain’t been able to get hold of him. I’ll try again in the morning...You sure you’re alright?”

“Where are we?” You queried, ignoring his question.

“Margate.”

“No, I mean here.” You pointed to where you were sat. “Whose house is this?”

“This is our house.” He said casually.

You look at him stunned. Your mouth agape.

“Our house?”

He nodded simply.

“W-when? How?” You stuttered, dumbfounded.

“I bought it a while back, after I saw you again at the Eden. It was in a bit of a two an’ eight when I bought it. Taken me an’ the boys a little while to do up.”

“I’m confused.” You shook your head. “You’ve bought a house in Margate? But we’re so far away from London, from your businesses. What about the bakery?”

“I’m retiring, Yahalom. I’ve sold up all the properties I own and I’ve handed the bakery down to Ollie. This was my plan all along. The only way I knew I could keep you safe.”

It took you a moment to process everything and still you were stunned speechless.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“I thought this was what you wanted?” He cites.

“It was-“

Alfie narrowed his eyes at your use of past tense.

“-I mean is.” You corrected swiftly before carrying on “It’s just come as a bit of a shock is all.”

“Hmm.” He let out a suspicious grunt. “It’s not the best timing after the day you’ve had, I get that. But that was out of my control wern’it?”

You nodded solemnly. Still trying to wrap your head around everything.

“I thought you’d be happy, Yahalom?”

“I am.” You frowned.

“At least show it then. Crack a smile or summin. You’ve got a face like a slapped arse at the minute.” You heard a frustrated annoyance creep into the grimmess of his voice.

“I don’t know how I feel about it, if I’m being honest. The last few months have been a whirlwind for me. I haven’t slept properly in days, weeks even. Weary to the bone. Wracked with guilt and worry. I honestly don’t know wether I’m coming or going. And now you’re telling me that you’re selling up. Leaving behind everything you’ve worked so hard to build and for what?”

“For us!” He barked. “For us to be together without the worry of someone hurting you to hurt me. And yeah, I’ve worked hard, I’ve earn’t my money, however, it’s time for me to rest now and enjoy the fruits of my labour.”

“I’m not sure, Alf...” You hummed uneasily.

“What’s there to be unsure of?”

“I still ain’t sure this is what you really want!” You snapped frustratedly. “A quiet life by the sea, a child you never wanted...I just can’t see it.” You admitted sadly.

He exhaled harshly, rising from his desk and stepping round to extend a hand to you.

“Come with me. I wanna show you something.”

Reluctantly you took his offered hand and let him guide you back out into the hallway and along to a room that was situated next to the one you had been resting in earlier.

He opened the door and moved aside for you to enter.

The waxing moon shon brightly through the bare windows, lighting up the room with it’s spectacular lunar glow. You stepped through noticing immediately the cot that lay new and empty against the far wall, next to it was a matching chest of drawers and a rocking horse that looked like it had been plucked from a fairground carousel.

Your eyes shot to Alfie whose bear like frame was leant in the doorway studying your reaction.

“When did you do this?”

“A couple of days ago. The room needs a lick of paint but I thought you might wanna choose the colour.” He came to join you in the centre of the room.

“So you did all this before you come to see me? Before you were even certain that the baby yours?...Why?”

He was silent for a moment, deep in thought.

He shrugged. “I s’pose deep down I knew you were lying and that the baby was mine... or maybe I didn’t fucking care, I dunno... doing this...it just felt right.”

“But you said-“

“-I know what I said but saying don’t mean fuck all does it. Actions speak louder than words.” He motions to the room. “And this speaks fucking volumes, dunnit. I mean if this doesn’t prove to you that this is what I really want then I don’t know what will.”

Reassurance drifted over you as you looked once again around the unfinished nursery.

“Say something.” He requested quietly.

Wordlessly you rushed to him and threw your arms around his broad shoulders.

“You like it then? You’re happy?” He confirmed uncertainly.

“I do. I am. It’s...wonderful! Thank you!” You choked a reply, your voice struggling past the forming lump in your throat.

He pulled you closer, his shoulders relaxing as if a weight had been lifted off them.

“You want me to show you round the rest of the house?” He whispered gruffly into your hair.

“Not tonight. Show me tomorrow in the daylight so I can properly take in the beauty of it all.”

“Alright. Well, what shall we do now then?” You were sure you heard a seductive undertone in his question and took full advantage.

“Take me to our bed.”

“You ain’t gotta ask me twice.” He said. His eyes lighting up at your words.

You squealed when he lifted you in his arms and carried you to the next room.

“Cor blimey. You’ve got heavier already.” He huffs.

“Oh give over, I ain’t even showing properly yet. You’re just getting weaker with age, old man.” You teased him.

“Oi! I’ll have you know that there’s nothing wrong with my stamina and I will gladly prove that to you in a minute.” He threatened hotly. Sending your pulse racing. “There’s just one more thing I’ve got to do first.”

He set you down carefully on your own two feet.

“Can’t it wait?” You whined as he stepped away from you and headed towards the door.

“It won’t take me a minute.” He assured you.

You stood in the middle of the once unfamiliar room that you now knew was yours and Alfies. Sighing happily, you glided to the french doors and tried the handle. They opened willingly under your touch. The chill of the night air was refreshing as you stepped out on to the balcony. Leaning on the stone balaustrade, you observed the unrelenting waves that stretched the distance, relishing in the peacefulness of their crashing melody. Nothing could ruin this moment, not even the ugliness of the Changretta situation. All that mattered right now was your future with Alfie, a future that this morning never even existed.

“Yahalom?” Alfie called, having returned.

You spun to look at him. He marched skittishly towards you, his hands behind his back, as he joined you on the balcony.

“I know I’ve asked you this before but as you so poignantly pointed out to me the other day, it’s a proposal that has since expired. So, I’m gonna ask you again... Y/N Y/L/N will you marry me?” He asked gruffly, his eyes so intense you thought they could set you on fire. You gasped unexpectedly. Although it was the second time he had asked you, it was the first time you had heard him say those words aloud.

“Oh, Alfie. Of course I’ll marry you.”

“Thank fuck for that. Here then.” He produced a ring that was hidden in his clenched fist behind his back. Grabbing your hand he slipped it on your finger. You stared down at it in awe. A ruby once again burned brightly on your finger but it wasn’t the one you were used to. You frowned down at the foreignness of the rings delicate beauty and the circle of winking diamonds that surrounded the red gem like a halo.

“I searched high and low for the other one in the bakery but couldn’t find it. So I bought you another one. D’you like it?”

“It’s beautiful... I was just expecting to see the old one.” You replied, your heart sinking at the thought of your first engagement ring being lost forever. It was only supposed to be a temporary ring, taken from Alfie’s pinky finger until he had gotten you a proper one. There wasn’t much to it just a thick gold band with a faceted ruby so red it was hypnotising. Back then you had persuaded Alfie not to buy a replacement, that you wanted to keep his one as every time you looked at it it reminded you of him. Now, thanks to yourself you’ll never see it again.

“That’s old hat now that one though, innit? a token of who we used to be. We’ve been through a lot of shit, right, shit I wanna leave in the past. I want us to have a fresh start, a clean slate, and this house and this ring is where it begins.”

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#alfie solomons #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #by order of the peaky blinders

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fruityutas · 4 years

Text

you’re my first choice

prince!yukhei x forgotten princess!reader

not proofread

wc ~ 3.3k

genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, medieval au, royalty au

note ~ courting someone just means that you’re serious about a long lasting relationship with that person! also, my lovely moots v and vy have been waiting on this since i was in the planning stage, so this is for yall hehe @jenojam @donkey-hyuck

synopsis ~ you were always left as a second choice in everything being the younger sister out of two princesses, and it never bothered you, you knew that you would never be as important as her. when visiting a neighboring kingdom, the same as every time happens, your sister gets most of the attention, but when you catch one of their king’s son’s eye, you two quickly develop a relationship and you finally feel like the first choice.

“hurry up! we are going to be late if we don’t leave now!” your mother’s shrill voice bounced on the tall stone walls that made up the carriage tunnels. today your family was going to your neighboring kingdom, Weishen, to visit their king. your father had been friends with him for a long time, so Weishen’s king, named Kun, asked for your family to visit. even before leaving you didn’t make a huge effort at standing out, as your mother called it, because your older sister was always the first choice for everything. she always noticed this and tried to put you in the spotlight but it never worked. you loved her dearly, and you knew she wanted you to get a chance in the spotlight, but everyone around you never gave you the chance. “lord help me if we are late to meeting king kun i will personally banish all of you to your rooms for three weeks.” you and your sister giggled at the harsh words of your mother.

“we won’t be late come on, we’re ready.” your sister took your hand and pulled you towards the carriage. your advisor, renjun, and your sister’s advisor doyoung go into the carriage with you. your mother and father were in a different carriage, and you smirked at the thought of them not knowing your sister and doyoung were very- as they would put it -close. you never missed the glances they gave each other and there was the few times you caught them in the halls late at night. the fear on their faces when you caught them the first time was priceless. you told them that you would never tell because they were in all honesty perfect for each other. why they hadn’t decided to tell your parents was beyond you but you always let them know when the coast was clear. your advisor, on the other hand, was your best friend. the whole advisor thing was truly an act at this point, and no one ever paid enough attention to you to realize it, anyway. renjun let you do whatever you wanted as long as it included him. one late night last december, the two of you took your horses and went two kingdoms over just to see his mother. it was midday the next morning when you both got back and no one batted an eyelash, and you got to see someone that had wanted to meet you ever since renjun got hired. the two of you were unstoppable in your adventures, and you felt as if you mattered to someone. but as you and your sister were getting older, you realized that your parents had started to look for her a suitor. this broke your heart because she loved doyoung and didn’t want to let him go. they planned on telling your parents soon, but you overheard them talking about using this trip as a chance to marry her off to one of king kun’s sons. he had three, yukhei, kunhang, and yangyang. you heard from your cousins that they were quite rowdy with each other but knew how to be as they called it ‘husband material’. kun himself was single, but your parents thought it better that your sister marry a young prince instead of the king. they were talking about putting her with yukhei. they both studied math, and they were only 2 months apart in age. and of course they did think about putting you with one of them if she and yukhei didn’t work out, but it was just an afterthought. they weren’t going to force either of you to marry someone you didn’t like, but they would try to make you like someone eventually.

“you guys need to tell them about you. the other day father was talking with mother about putting you with yukhei on this trip.” your sister’s eyes bugged when she heard your small voice.

“they said what?!” she leaned away from doyoung to turn toward you.

“yea they were talking about it yesterday. you should tell them together. they don’t want you to be unhappy, they just wanted to try and see.” she sighed and turned to look at doyoung.

“we have to tell them today, and if they don’t accept it we’ll run away.” doyoung’s eyes had a look of fear mixed with worry while he ran his fingers through your sister’s hair.

“ok, we’ll tell them when we get there.”

“just let me do the talking, doie. you have to trust me.” he nods and leans in for a quick kiss. you sigh and turn to renjun.

“what should we do when we get there?” his face was curled in a smirk and you knew the fun was only just starting.

“well we have to play a trick on the guards, obviously. one that is so unbelievable.” you and renjun giggled before huddling up to discuss the details.

the carriage comes to a stop, jolting everyone in it. one of the servants opens the door for the four of you, bowing as you stepped out. all of you joined your parents at the front gate. The large gate opened and out came the king and his three sons.

“good day! i’m glad you could make it, y/d/n.” kun gave your father a bone-crushing hug and chuckled. “welcome, you all must be so tired. these are my sons, yukhei, kunhang, and yangyang.”

“dad, please, it’s hendery.” the one in the middle whined playfully at kun. kun rolled his eyes before turning and walking off with your father. your mother was talking to kun’s advisor, who you could recall being named joohyun, although she insisted on being called irene. your sister and doyoung were standing and talking to each other. you made eye contact with all three princes and you gave a weak smile before yangyang started to make his way over to you. but before he could get to you renjun gasps and grasps your arm, turning you slightly away.

“y/n, look! it’s the perfect plan. we can hide i the nook at night and make noises to scare the guards.” his soft voice was near your ear and you smirk at the thought of pulling this prank. no one would ever suspect a princess and her advisor. you feel a slight tap on your shoulder and you turn to see yangyang and the other two standing closer to you than before.

“hi, my name is yangyang. what’s yours?” his smile was bright and the look on his face was hopeful.

“oh, hi. my name is y/n.” renjun stayed silent but by your side for support. out of the corner of your eye you could see doyoung and your sister looking around suspiciously before slipping down a dimly lit hall, giggling. you quirked your eyebrow, causing the three princes to look that way. “uhhh, why don’t we go do something?” your voice wavered and you silently cursed yourself for being too obvious with your expression. they all nodded before yangyang and hendery ran ahead while yelling for you guys to keep up. yukhei held out his hand for you before taking off just as fast as the prior two, and you could barely keep up. renjun had a panicked look on his face as he tried to keep up with yukhei and his long legs. at this point yukhei picked you up just to run faster. you squealed and covered your eyes. yukhei laughed and you could feel the reverberations in his broad chest.

“don’t worry, princess, i got you.” you just curled into his chest more than you thought possible. when you all reached the end of a hall, you were put down. you stood still for a second before slowly opening your eyes. yukhei was looking down at you with big eyes and a wide smile. “see? you’re fine.” he winked before gripping your hand in his. you blushed and looked away. he and the others led you through the door to an outside area set up with fake dummies and targets. yukhei brought you to a seat before sitting down with you. the others, even renjun, started playing around with training weapons.

“aren’t you going to play with them?” you turn to look at him and find him staring at you. you blush and move away a little bit. he chuckles.

“i wanna sit here with you, is that ok?” he turns so he’s straddling the bench you're on and starts playing with your hands.

“yea, if that’s what you want.” you giggle as he compares the sizes of your hands. it was the first time anyone other than renjun had paid attention to you, and you were going to enjoy it while it lasted.

“you’re so cute, i just wanna sit here and be with you.” his sweet voice rang in your ears and a red hot blush overcame your cheeks after hearing him say that. he swept a piece of stray hair away from your face. “are you ok, princess?”

“i- uh, yea i’m fine, i’m totally fine ahaha,” he smirked at your stuttered response .

“how about we play a game? it’s called sticks.” he showed you how to play and that’s what you two did while conversing with each other. soon, both your mothers came out to retrieve the group for dinner.

“y/n, where is your sister?”

“i’m not sure, she went off with doyoung before the rest of us came out here.” your mother’s face contorted into an unreadable look before returning to normal. she sighed and muttered something about getting a guard to find them quick. yukhei walks up beside you and asks what was wrong.

“no one knows where my sister and her advisor are.” he laughs and yells to your mother.

“i think they might be in the front hall to the left, your majesty.” your mother smiled and mouthed a thank you before sending a guard to retrieve them.

“how do you know that they’re actually there?” a smirk grazes your features.

“simple, they want to go somewhere to be all lovey without prying eyes.” you scoffed and hit his arm.

“you’re not wrong about that, my prince.” he smiles warmly at you and blushes slightly.

“so i’m your prince? i like the sound of that.” he puts his long arm around your waist and pulls you in closer to him. renjun is quick to snicker at this from behind the two of you.

“is there something funny, renjun?” your snarky voice causes him to stop only for a second before he bursts into laughter. you roll your eyes as yukhei joins in on the laughter. “what? Is there something on my dress?”

“n- no, holy- it’s just you seem to like prince yukhei quite a bit already, huh?” you pout and cuddle into yukhei while whining about how ‘you were being bullied.’ yukhei fakes a gasp before covering your ears with his large hands, exclaiming that he would protect you from such atrocities. you smirk at renjun and stick out your tongue. when the group reaches the dining room, your sister and doyoung are already there.

“and just where have you been, hmm?” your mother questions the two, who look nervously at each other.

“mother, we were just looking around the castle. his majesty kun also joined us to show us around for a little.” doyoung and the king nodded at her statement. your mother hummed to your sister and her lover’s relief and with that dinner commenced.

“so how are you finding the place, y/n?” kun’s question startles you and yukhei places his hand on your leg for reassurance.

“it’s very lovely here. your sons are courteous, they took me to the training gardens.”

“why in the world would you three take a princess to the training gardens?” kun looked at his sons in disbelief.

“oh, please don’t worry! yukhei sat with me the whole time, i enjoyed it. the castle grounds are very beautiful.” kun looks over to yukhei and gives a questioning look, to which the latter blushes in response. yukhei’s brothers snicker and kun sends them a disapproving look. the rest of dinner goes smoothly and the whole dining hall is filled with friendly chatter. after it ends, yukhei walks you to your room. “thank you for staying with me today, yukhei. it means alot to me.” he smiles and takes your hands into his.

“of course, princess. would you like to join me again tomorrow? just the two of us?” you blush at his question but agree nonetheless. you lean up to him and kiss his cheek before bidding him a good night and closing the door. yukhei stands frozen in the hall, hand running over the spot your lips touched. you smile to yourself as you lean against the door thinking to yourself how did you do that.

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

you wake to a soft knock to your door. “princess? it’s me, yukhei.”

“come in, i just woke up.” he slips through the door before laughing. “what?”

“you look cute right now.” you blush and pull the blanket over your reddening face, causing him to laugh again. he comes over and takes the blanket away from your face. “don’t hide. c’mon, i have some things planned already. i think you’ll like them.” you get up and gather your clothes for the day before retreating to the bathroom to get ready.

“um, yukhei?” “yes?” “can you help me lace my dress up?” he turns to see you holding the silk string out for him. he takes it and gently begins to lace up your dress. “thank you, i would’ve never been able to do this by myself.” he hums before telling you that he’s done. you reach for one of your necklaces and try to clasp it, but you struggle. he takes it from you and moves your hair to the side to clasp it for you. the sweet scent of your perfume fills his senses and he stops moving while staring at you in the mirror. you turn to look up at him. “are you ok?” his eyes flick between your lips and your eyes. you feel him lean closer and you close your eyes. when your lips touch a feeling of warmth spreads through your body. yukhei brings his hands to rest on your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck. he bites into your bottom lip and draws a whimper out of you. when you both pull away, your face is red.

“did i go too far? i’m sorry, princess i-“ “its ok! i- it was fine i enjoyed it, actually. and please, call me y/n.” he grins and links your hands together as you both walk out of the room.

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

after the first visit to Weishen, yukhei was smitten with you. he and you exchanged letters frequently, and he invited you to the kingdom’s annual Black on Black festival. the festival consisted of carnival games for children and poker games for adults. it had lots of food and drinks for everyone and at the end of the night, fireworks were set off. yukhei thought it was the perfect way to officially start courting you. it would also be the first time seeing you since your initial visit to the kingdom.

“father, i want to let you know i plan on courting princess y/n.” yukhei’s deep voice cut into the air of king kun’s office. kun looks up from his work at at his son.

“if that is what you wish, i support it. have you spoken to her parents about it?”

“yes sir, they approve of it.”

“then it shall be. should i make the announcement?”

“not yet. tomorrow morning.” kun nodded and yukhei left the office. as he was walking down the halls, he heard commotion from a smaller hallway. he got close enough to hear, hiding behind a wall.

“i heard that the royal family from Tiefling are in attendance for the festival.”

“oh really? i hear their oldest daughter got engaged to her advisor.”

“goodness, don’t they think that’s a little, trivial?”

“yes but i also heard from my sister that works at their castle that he is very handsome, so i can see why she’d want to marry him. i’m sure she would rather do that than marry one of our rowdy princes.”

“gosh, i hope whatever poor soul marries any of them knows what she’d be getting into. the lot of them can’t go a day without acting like a child.” yukhei tenses at the maids’ words. is he the right person for you? what if you were only pretending to enjoy spending time with him? he hears noise further down the hall. it sounds like, you? he makes his way to the entrance room and spots you and your family. you weren’t supposed to be here until tomorrow, what was your family doing here early?

“your majesty, do you know where prince yukhei is?” you asked kun.

“goodness child, excuse her, your majesty. she hasn’t stopped gushing about your lovely son.”

“no worries. he should be around here somewhere. check the training gardens, he might be there with yangyang and kunhang.” kun laughs at your excited nature. you have a bounce in your step as you get closer to where yukhei was hiding. he comes out and waits for you.

“oh! yukhei, how are you? it’s been so long i missed you!” your face was bright as you came up to him and hugged him. he stays calm even though his insides are telling him to spin you around. He kisses your hand gently and starts walking toward the training gardens while you trail behind. “is something wrong, xuxi?” your pout is obvious and he tries his best to stay collected.

“nothing is wrong, princess. how have you been? it’s been very busy here lately.” his heart shatters at your face dropping.

“oh, um yea i’ve been fine. are you sure something isn’t wrong? you seem not like your usual self.”

“my usual self?”

“yea, usually you’re bubbly and louder. you seem almost sad.” he sighs and stops walking.

“am i too childish?” you look confused.

“no. why would you think that?”

“i heard some of our maids talking about how my brothers and i are all childish and rowdy. they also mentioned that anyone marrying us should be prepared for that.” his face was that of a hurt puppy and your body started to fill with anger.

“wong yukhei, you are not too childish or rowdy. i love the way you act. it’s your personality and i cherish that. you make me feel like i’m the only girl you’ll ever be around, i’m so used to being the second choice or an after thought and then you come and make me feel like you could never talk to anyone else. i want you to be loud and rowdy. you always brighten the mood with a simple joke and without you it would be boring. i don’t wanna hear you say that ever again, you hear me?” he smiles and pulls you into a kiss. this one is different than before, it’s more than attraction. this kiss is filled with appreciation and meaning. it lights both your bodies on fire and surrounds you with warmth. you both slowly separate and as yukhei looks down at you with adoration, he mumbles a simple, “you’ll always be my first choice.”

#wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #xuxi scenarios #xuxi fluff #wong yukhei #yukhei x reader #nct scenarios #nct imagines

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tact-and-impulse · 3 years

Text

Shinkane Week 2021 Day 2

The fake relationship scheme was a pretty suitable sequel to Retrograde, the WWII AU from my first Shinkane Week.

Convenience

Inevitably, people had begun to notice the stranger living with Akane. When asked, she already had a story prepared. He was Shuusei’s friend, who was asked to look after her since he returned from the warfront. She had assumed that by the time her cousin returned, Kougami would be gone.

So, the meeting was entirely unexpected.

Kougami had accompanied her to market, to help carry the rations. And for protection, but that went unspoken between them. They were walking quickly, intent on getting back as soon as possible, when she heard a voice shouting.

“Akane-chan!”

She whirled around, and in the bright sunshine, her cousin was sprinting from the docks. In a matter of seconds, he tackled her, with a wide grin. “I’m home!”

She hugged him back, bursting into tears. After months of no correspondence, he was alright. The was over, and her cousin was safe and whole. It seemed like a miracle. Then, what he said next pulled her to reality.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He squinted at Kougami. “Who is this?”

Akane froze. Her cousin was home. Her cousin, who had no prior knowledge of Kougami but was supposed to be his friend. Her mind raced.

And then, all of her wayward thoughts stopped spinning, as Kougami’s free arm fell upon her shoulders. “I’m her fiancé. Nice to meet you.”

***

“Damn, Akane-chan, you really were okay while I was gone. Snagging yourself a husband…” Shuusei said, in between bites of their meager lunch. He had settled right in, just as carefree as he’d been in their childhood.

“It-” She stopped herself. She wasn’t sure how her cousin would react, if she’d been living with a stranger all this time, especially one who had tried to steal from her. Was it better then, to maintain the falsehood? She changed the subject. “Well, I think we’re alive and that’s what matters most. I’m happy that you’re okay, how have you been?”

He relayed some stories, about the miserable humidity in the tropics and the variety of cuisine he had eaten. Since they were home, Kougami hadn’t spoken another word. However, he sat at her side, though carefully keeping a handspan away.

While Shuusei was unpacking, she seized the opportunity to corner Kougami.

“What was that about?! Saying that we’re, we’re engaged.”

“I couldn’t think of anything else, and you were panicking. Besides, we’re already living together. It’s not a stretch of the imagination.”

She had to agree. “I understand, but it just surprised me. We don’t have any details.”

“The details don’t really matter. We happened to meet, we agreed to get married after the war was over and things were more stable. Or do you hate this excuse?” He looked directly at her.

Her face warmed. For a brief moment, she considered it. Kougami was good-looking, tall, and solidly built. More than once, she had caught lingering glances upon him in town, but he never seemed to acknowledge them. Even though he’d come to her under false pretenses and a poor first impression, he was helpful and intelligent and meticulous. It wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen…

“Akane-chan! Where are the spare lanterns?” Shuusei called out. Grateful for the interruption, she left to search, though she could feel Kougami’s stare prickling against her back.

A couple of days later, she noticed that he was trying to be nicer.

“Let me carry that for you.”

“Need anything while I’m in town?”

“I was able to buy fish today.”

He was awkward but it was somewhat endearing. On her end, she did her best to do the same. She repaired the holes in his shirts and pants, and aired out his futon as his sheets dried on the clothesline. She would have cooked more often, but her cousin insisted that he could handle that responsibility.

“So…when’s the big day?” Shuusei asked.

“Not for a while. The war just ended but we’re still rationed and occupied. It’s not the right time.” Kougami coolly replied.

“I don’t have the clothes either.” Akane pointed out. “The money’s better spent towards food anyway.”

“Yeah, but you know, Obaa-chan was always looking forward to seeing you in front of a folding screen.” He trailed off. Not just their grandmother, but the rest of their family members would never witness that scene. “Unless, Kou-chan, you have a wedding dress somewhere.”

“My mother and father were never married.” After a pause, he added. “If she were alive, I think she would have given what she had.”

“I would have thanked her.” Akane softly said, and he actually smiled.

But she still felt guilty at the deception and apparently, they weren’t very convincing. At the end of the week, it was her cousin who came to pick her up, from her supply driving job. He was uncharacteristically quiet, as they followed the dusty path to the house. She attempted to be cheerful but stopped when he clasped her shoulder.

“Hey, Akane-chan.” His gaze was serious. “Is he hurting you? Or threatening you?”

“What?” Oh, no. The misunderstanding was getting worse.

“You haven’t mentioned how you two met, and for two people who plan to get married, you never touch. If he’s done something wrong, I can take him down.”

The thought of them brawling in the yard was too much. “It really isn’t like that!” Indignant, the entire story spilled out of her.

***

“Sorry, I told him.” She confessed, once they returned.

Shuusei crossed his arms. “I don’t like being lied to, but I get it. It all makes sense.”

Kougami’s shoulders slumped, and he exhaled. “Well, the truth is out, but…it doesn’t feel too bad.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Akane echoed, smiling.

Her cousin spoke up again. “There’s still another option. I mean, why don’t you actually get married?”

“Eh?” She gaped, as Kougami whipped his head around to glare at Shuusei.

He only kept going. “You already know each other, it’d make things a lot easier. It’s not like there’re a lot of available people our age. I’d rest easy, if Akane-chan’s future was secured.”

“Ah, so it’d be out of convenience.” Kougami said, his voice neutral.

“Okay, but not just that. Now that I’m thinking back, you two do look at each other.” He repeatedly lifted his eyebrows, a smirk unfolding. “In the mornings before you leave the house, in the evenings before we turn in. And if I can see it-”

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to start on dinner!” She hurried inside, her face burning. Work would put the conversation out of her mind, along with the glimpse of Kougami’s flustered face.

#shinkaneweek #shinkane #psycho pass #kagari's in here too!#i just call him by his first name since akane wouldn't refer to him otherwise in this au

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miracul0us-multishipper · 4 years

Text

You (Part 2)

Now you see me, now you don’t!

Part 1 | AO3

Felix Graham De Vanily was, in his own humble opinion, special.

He was smart.

He was composed.

He knew exactly what to say and when, and he could make people see exactly what he wanted them to see.

He wasn’t his cousin, after all, almost identical looks aside. Adrien never knew when to speak up, or when it was better to stay quiet. Never knew how to hide his thoughts and keep his - utterly unrealistic, when it came to his father - hopes in check. And he might be smarter than Felix gave him credit for, but all that intelligence left him as soon as his friends were concerned.

That was what all his flaws boiled down to, really.

Adrien made the fatal, unforgiving mistake of caring too much. Always had.

(It was what Felix liked about him, deep down. Adrien was genuine, in everything he felt. Felix envied him for the ease with which he made friends.)

But.

Felix wasn’t like Adrien at all. He was too smart to care for people - his mother aside - any more than he had to. Mundane distractions. Friends, crushes - all things that would only deter him from his path in life: high above the crowd, always the center of attention, yet unreachable. Playing everyone, but gone before anybody noticed.

It was a glorious but lonely road. No, scratch that. It was a lonely but glorious road. Much better.

He didn’t need anything or anyone.

He was the sole and solemn genius of the family.

He was a magician, who didn’t need any fancy jewelry to work miracles - just the right distraction and disguise.

He was-

“Ow!”

Groaning Felix looked at the little bite marks on his finger.

“Were you even listening?! Or did you just wait for an opportunity to stab me in the back?”

The black and white bundle of fur and betrayal on his lap meowed and swiped at his hand, now out of reach.

“I knew you couldn’t be trusted.”, he grumbled and shoved the traitor off of his legs, but couldn’t help but smile when he smugly licked his nose - as if to say: I'd do it again. “I raised you too well. Now, where was I?”

He sighed.

“Ah, yes. I don’t care for anyone - please stop scratching that ear, honey, it’s not healed yet - because I'm just too smart for that. So it’s utterly impossible that I, Felix Graham de Vanily, am in love with Dupain-Cheng. Got it?”

His cat, the little bastard, answered by knocking his pencil box over and started to chew on a pen. Felix narrowed his eyes.

“Oh? You dare doubt my word?”

With quick fingers he stole his cat's spoils and placed it out of his reach.

“Quite bold for a creature without opposable thumbs, hm?”

Insulted, the poor, thumbless pet retreated to his laptop and laid down on the keyboard - causing the screensaver to give way to the last opened tab. Which was Marinette's Instagram page.

“Wah!”

Hurried to hide the proof of his interest - as if she might somehow appear in his room if he looked at her picture for too long - he shooed his pet away and closed the tab. Said pet meowed smugly and, upset about being chased away from two spots already, sat down on his pillow. Great.

“You did that on purpose!”, he accused his cat. “But that tab proves nothing. It was merely a passing interest in her admittedly wearable work. It has nothing to do with any confessions - faked confessions, or that she can apparently recognize me in disguise, or the very neutral fact that she is cute, by some people's - not my own! - standards.”

His cat blinked. And sneezed onto his pillow.

“Bless you. Now move, or I’ll use you instead of a bunny for that hat trick I’m working on.”

Sighing, Felix let himself fall backwards onto his bed, grabbing the fleeing cat and burying his face in the fluffy fur.

“Oh, to be a cat!”, he wailed into his involuntary comfort pillow. “With no troubles except how to best annoy his owner.”

The poor animal hissed and escaped his grasp, saving himself from the bitter fate of a comfort pillow.

“Run, you uncaring monster.”, Felix sighed, “Leave me to my worries. Which don’t include Marinette at all, by the way.”

He sat up and watched as the little traitor turned to sulk on his dresser.

“Stop looking at me like that. Even if I had a short bout of interest - possibly even infatuation! It’s already all but cured.”

He nodded to himself, ignoring that the disinterested cat had begun cleaning his leg instead of listening.

“School's closed, after all!”, he hummed, scrolling through the news on his phone. “And social contacts are to be reduced to the bare minimum. So I’m not going to see her again before this passing interest has... well, passed.”

As if in response to his words, his laptop started to ring and the monitor lit up with the picture of blue, blue eyes and a smile that could melt the stars off of the sky. Not that he paid attention to such things.

“Oh no, no, no!”, he panted as he fell out of his bed and stumbled towards the computer. “Incoming Skype call?! Oh, come on!”

The ringtone repeated itself and Felix jumped.

“What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do?”

Panicking, he looked at his pet.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?!”

The addressed party blinked. And went back to licking his nuts.

“Argh! I am surrounded by incompetence!”

Taking a deep breath, Felix straightened his vest and cravat - just because he was staying at home for the foreseeable future didn’t mean that he would dress any less professionally.

“Who needs your advice anyway. I can do this.”

He straightened his back and sat down on the chair in front of his desk.

“I am Felix Graham de Vanily, the best actor in all of France and the United Kingdom, not in love with Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and I can totally answer a Skype call.”

Before he could think again, he pressed the green button.

“Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng!”, he greeted overly enthusiastic. “We meet again.”

“If you can call it that.”, Marinette laughed with the voice of a goddamn angel. She was wearing a white, polka-dotted pajama top, was illuminated by early-noon sunlight falling through some sort of window in the ceiling, and her hair – was – down.

If this was some sort of cosmic test, it wasn’t fair.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your virtual company?”, he said quickly, trying not to think too much about how her hair looked even softer than the fur of a certain cat. Then, for good measure, he added: “Miss me already?”

Marinette disappeared for a moment, before returning with a sizable stack of papers.

“As much as I could do without my favorite pain in the neck, we have a school assignment to do. You know, since school is closed?”

She leaned in and he held his breath.

“Did you even notice? I haven’t seen you last Friday.”

What was he supposed to answer to that? Oh, I noticed alright! It kept me from embarrassing myself by avoiding you, because my brain got all mushy ever since you fake-confessed to me pretending to be my cousin?

Ha! Fat chance.

“Aw, worried for me?”, he improvised, as usual, by being sarcastic. “Let me soothe your concern for your favorite pain in the neck: I merely got tired of cosplaying Adrien. I'm a very busy man, you see?”

She rolled her eyes and somehow managed to make it look cute.

“Of course you are. Well, hopefully not too busy for a presentation on marine biology, due next week.”

He blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“You know, the one Adrien and I are supposed to do?”

Felix Had Questions. For example:

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t hack into Adriens E-mail account. I saw you present homework that you couldn’t have known about if Madame Mendeleiev hadn’t emailed you, as Adrien.”

She raised an eyebrow, in a way that could almost be described as playful.

“Plus, you seem the type to do that.”

He scoffed and crossed his arms, as if it would hide his racing heartbeat.

“First of all: No, I am not breaking into my cousins account. I may like to prank him - or rather everyone, really - but that goes a little far. Secondly, that Lila girl was only too eager to do homework with Adrien-Me, so I could keep up with every assignment once I could get her hands off of me.”

“I thought a magician never revealed his tricks?”

True. But he had wanted to see if she would get jealous. Which she didn’t. Which was expected and totally fine by him. He didn’t care anyways.

Lucky for him, Marinette wanted to tease him more than an answer.

“Well, I hope your work ethic is better when it comes to presentations. I'll send you the materials!”

A click later, his laptop alerted him of One New Email, containing no less than twenty-two pages of material. He raised his eyebrows.

“Not to crush your little illusion of me as a hard-working student, but that looks like awfully tedious work. What makes you think I would voluntarily do homework meant for Prince Charming?”

The sassy little smirk she'd shown him during their battles of wit last week returned.

“You mean, aside from the fact that, once school is open again and Adrien is back, your little trick with pretending to be him will be revealed? And that I’m your best chance not to be chased out of town by a very angry Chloé Bourgeois? Not to start with Alya, Rose and Juleka, who still haven’t forgiven you for that stunt you pulled the last time you were here.”

Sound argument, he had to give her that.

“Pah!”, he said, just for the sake of irritating her. “So what? It’s not like it was my idea to move to Paris anyway!”

That was at least partially true. His mother had insisted to come back to France, mostly because she wanted to keep an eye on Gabriel. But he hadn’t been against it either.

It wasn’t like he had friends in London anyway, and in Paris it at least didn’t get boring, with all these butterflies and superheroes. Plus, he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he had missed Adrien. That boy could use a little family - once Felix was done pretending to be him.

Marinette hummed and tapped her chin impatiently.

“Well, then see it as the prize you promised me after our little insult-match at the Trocadero.”

“Wait, wait, wait!”, he held up his hands. “I already settled that score, didn’t I? You confessed to me, remember?”

“I practiced confessing to Adrien with you, you mean.”, she reminded him with a raised eyebrow – Ouch, by the way – before leaning back in her pink chair. “And that was because you talked me into it. I never told you what I wanted, did I?”

Well, fuck. Not that the prospect of working with Marinette was that unpleasant, but in his current state of emotional confusion, it would only be detrimental. He needed an out, an excuse!

“Why would you want to work with me anyways? I would have thought you'd jump at the chance to do something with Prince Adrien of Dreamland. Why settle for the pain in the neck?”

Marinette sighed.

“Adrien is still recovering from his flu, and given the current, ah, global situation, I thought it would be better to put his health first. Besides, you're my favorite pain in the neck.”

“I'm flattered, darling”, he said, trying not to sound like it was as true as it was, “but-“

“Oh my gosh!”, Marinette interrupted him with a shout, and suddenly her eyes dominated the entire screen, as if she were mere millimeters away from her own computer. “Felix! What is that?!”

“Huh?”, he made, eloquent as usual. He turned around, just in time to see his traitorous cat jump from the dresser right onto his lap. Apparently, now that Felix had someone else to talk to, the little bastard felt neglected.

“You mean him?”, he asked, turning back to the screen with the cat in his lap. An inhuman squeal came from the other side of the line and Marinette sacked back into her chair, which spun around its axis, like, three times in a single second.

“Felix Graham de Vanily!”, she said with all but glowing eyes. “Show – me – the cat!”

Since her voice made absolutely clear that it had been an order and Felix had always had a strong survival instinct, he obediently held up the little monster. Who let out a plaintive little “Mow”, but otherwise submitted to his fate.

“Oh my gosh!”, Marinette repeated, “He's adorable!”

“You think?”, Felix said dumbly, at a loss for how to react to this sudden change in situation.

“I do! I do! What's his name?”

“Uh...”, Felix thought, debating whether a lie would save his reputation. “Uhm...”

“Don’t tell me you named him Felix Junior!” She turned towards the cat in false exasperation. “Did he name you Felix Junior?!”

The cat that was most certainly not named Felix Junior meowed in his feline confusion.

“No, of course not!”, Felix snapped back, sinking into the chair as if it might have mercy and swallow him.

“Then what's his name? What, for God’s sake, is this pretty little kitty called?!”

What had his life turned into?

“'dini.”, he mumbled, hiding his face behind the cat.

“What? Speak louder!”, Marinette demanded, and so he accepted his fate.

“Houdini!”, he groaned in embarrassment. “I named him Houdini, alright? I was eleven!”

For a moment, the line went quiet. Then, inevitably, Marinette burst out in laughter.

“For real? I can’t believe it!”

Sulking, Felix turned away from the screen, but immediately Marinette stopped.

“No, no, no! Bring Houdini back! I love his name, okay? Give him back!”

“You're not telling anybody of him, got it?”, he hissed, cheeks as red as Ladybug's suit. Marinette snickered.

“Of course, I promise. Houdini will be our little secret, alright? Now bring him back!”

Satisfied, Felix turned the chair back towards the laptop and placed Houdini on the desk. The curious thing didn’t hesitate to lounge onto his keyboard and examined the camera, much to Marinette’s delight.

“Oh lord, he's so cute!”

Felix sighed and leaned back.

“Believe me, he knows.”

“He looks just like you!”

At that, Felix spluttered and jumped up again.

“W-w-what?!”

Internally already setting up the equation: “Marinette thinks Houdini is cute, and Marinette thinks Houdini looks like Felix, then Marinette thinks Felix is cute?” he was about two seconds from fainting.

“He's got a little tie, see?”, Marinette giggled on, ignorant of the thought-spiral she'd sent him into. “Just like you!”

Oh. She meant the patterns of his fur, which admittedly looked a little like he was wearing a tie. Of course.

“Who's the most adorable thing in Paris? You are!”, Marinette continued with her shameless adoration of that undeserving little brat, who currently Mow-ed happily at the screen. Pah!

“Just so you know, he bites people for fun.”, Felix badmouthed his own pet, absolutely not because he was jealous. “You can’t trust him. He'll act sweet, but as soon as you're not looking he's got your fingers between his sharp little fangs!”

“Eh, I can handle it.”, Marinette shrugged and immediately went back to admiring Houdini. “You're a good kitty, aren’t you? The best, the best! Yes, you are!”

“No, he's not!”, Felix insisted through clenched teeth. “He's moody and arrogant! Nobody likes him, that's why I took him in! He thinks it’s fun to hurt people, he holds grudges forever and he's incredibly annoying when he's bored!”

Wait, was he still talking about the cat?

“You just like him because he looks all cute and innocent, but if you knew him, you'd never even want to be in the same room as him.”

Marinette had gone quiet on the other side, and Houdini narrowed his eyes at him in betrayal. Then she shrugged.

“If you don’t want him anymore, I'll take him in.”

“What?!”

She would have to pry the little shit out of his cold, dead hands!

“Did you not listen to a word I said?” he asked, trying not to let on that he didn’t actually dislike Houdini.

Marinette smiled.

“Sure. But I still think he's a good kitty.”

“But why?”

She hummed, pushing her stack of papers aside so she could put her elbows on the desk. Resting her chin on her hand, she looked up in him.

“Most cats are. You just got to give them a chance to come out of their shell.”

“But... But he's mean!”

“Maybe he's just lonely. Maybe he needs some friends, and then he'll learn to be nicer. I can wait.”

He was not blushing!

“Why would you want to? There's lots of better cats, you could just pick one of them right away.”

“Yeah, well, I want Houdini. All cats deserve a chance. Even the meaner ones.”

She smiled down at the black and white loaf that purred on his keyboard.

“In my experience, peop- cats only show their best sides if you give them a chance to open up. If you're too quick to brush them aside as hopeless, or mean, you might miss out on the most wonderful personalities underneath. And I think Houdini is one of those.”

And then, because the universe just wanted to see him fall, she winked at him. Jesus Christ!

“Anyway, I'll give you some time to read through the material I sent you. Message me once you’re done, we've got a lot of work ahead. Bye!”

Before he could realize what she had said, the window blanked and closed on him. Disappointed that his fan had vanished, Houdini meowed and returned once again to Felix' lap.

“Bye.”, Felix stammered belatedly. What had just... How could she go around just saying things like that? And then hang up?!

“Ugh, Houdini!”, he lamented. “Look what I have become!”

Reduced to a beetred, stammering, weird-cat-metaphor-using fool!

The cat gave a smug “Mrow” and headbutted him in the chin, but Felix didn’t have it in him to complain.

“Fine,” he sighed in defeat, “you win. So what if I like her?”

Houdini purred.

“You do too, don’t you? Bet you'd bite her anyway.”

He purred on, unperturbed.

“Knew it.”

He sighed once again.

“She's right, though. You are a good kitty. Deep down.”

Houdini meowed and licked his finger, just where he'd bitten him earlier.

“Well, now you're just sucking up to me! Two-faced little demon. Mwah!”

He pressed a small kiss to the top of his furry head, then rolled the chair closer to the desk and opened his emails.

“Alright, then.”, he tried to motivate himself, “let's show Marinette what a good kitty- what a good person we are and do our homework.”

At that, Houdini promptly stood up and jumped onto the bed, leaving him alone with twenty-two pages of reading material.

“Bastard.”

- - -

Bonus:

Ladybug, crashing through Felix' window: Felix Graham de Vanily!

Felix: Ladybug?!

Ladybug: I have it on good authority that you own a good kitty! It is crucial for the safety of Paris that I pet him right this instant!

Felix, remembering her right hook: ... sure?

#miramu writes #felinette fluff #felinette #felix/marinette #canon!felix #marinette dupain cheng #felix graham de vanily #its corona time

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moons-and-stars-and-shit · 3 years

Note

Hiya love!! CONGRATULATIONS ON ALL YOUR FOLLWERS BBYYYY!! 🥳🥳🥳 IM SO PROUD OF YOU!! I HAVENT BEEN FOLLOWING YOU FOR THAT LONG BUT I CANT WAIT TO SEE YOU GROW. You deserve it all and more.

If it's still open, is it okay if I get a kinnie coldbrew please? And thank you in advance.

I'm really introverted and hate social interactions and meeting new people, even online

And I hate going outside in public

I just dont know how to make friends or even talk to people without panicking

I see the people around me having online friends and I'm sat there like how??? I just about have irl friends

It takes me a long long time to get used to people and even start thinking about opening up to them

All of my friends are people I've knows for a good 6/7 years, I hate being introduced to new people

I hate havinh big groups of friends as well

Usually whenever my friends go out I tend to avoid it, but when I do I'm usually at the back walking by myself

I just withdraw myself when in big groups and just become invisible

But in small groups of like 3 people or just me with someone else I thrive

My friends think they know me really well, but it's one of them ones where I mask my true emotions and feelings with waffle

It's not that I dont trust them, I just dont want to share my feelings with anyone or talk about myself, usually I just make jokes

I grew up in an environment where I was taught not to cry and not to be emotional, and my mother was very insistent on that, and it just became natural to me. I cant even remember the last time I cried, it was definitely a good 2/3 years ago

I have a lot of patience when it comes to anger, like I dont let it out, sometimes I get really really angry at the littlest things people do, but then it dies down in like 3 seconds. I dont know how to explain it, but it's like a hot flash and then it goes, other times it builds slowly and I just let it fester

But I hate confrontation

Absolutely hate it

I would never actually do anything with the anger or hurt I feel, i just let it sit inside of me and hold it in

People do come to me for advice and help, I wont sugarcoat anything, I'll tell you the honest (and sometimes harsh) truth and then help you get overcome your problem as well

Because of that I can sometimes come across as harsh because i wont bullshit you or beat around the bush if you need me to talk to you like that

I do the absolute most for my friends, I'd drop anything for them if they need help and I often find myself putting their happiness before my own, and lowkey (highkey) it hurts when I dont receive the same energy back, but it's ok we move

I'm usually the one doing all the work in a group presentation, mainly because no one else is bothered to do it, so I just do it all

I do all the work, they present

I dont know how to show the people around me that I love them, even though I really really do

I hate it when people touch me or try to give me hugs and I avoid them

But secretly I yearn for them and I just want someone to cuddle me

But I'm not used to physical affection at all and it really embarrasses me

It's a bit of a sticky one ngl

For me, it's so important to be polite and open minded

I think that's why people come to me for advice and shit, because I suck at comforting people, but I wont judge you at all also because I'm quite approachable as well

Unless you're a trump supporter, then I will roast the living shit out of you

I'm really into literature and reading, whether it be classics, manga, graphic novels, or just normal fiction

I just love reading

And doing anything creative tbh

I read percy jackson when I was young and it basically formed my entire personality

That's where my love for mythology started and over the years its become more refined and I just love it even more

I like to think I'm a nice person

I always try and make people smile and laugh and know that they're loved and acknowledged by me

In stressful situations I find myself being really calm

To the point it looks like I dont care

And I'll tell you that I dont care as well

But on the inside I'm panicking and its eating me up on the inside

I either do one of two things and they're both polar opposites

I either try and resolve it as soon as possible or I ignore it for as long as I can and leave it for future me to handle

It's not very healthy but I'm still here so, I guess it's fine

I dont find myself getting stressed FOR myself that often, if you get what I'm saying

Usually when i feel emotions it's for other people??? Like I'd be stressed for someone else, sad for someone else and angry for someone else, but I'd never really feel something for myself

Yeahh I usually stay calm and nonchalant though

Ahhhh, this is soo longgg, I'm so sorry about that, I just started venting halfway through and forgot that this was an ask. I'm so sorry and I hope you dont mind. Thank you so so much though, I appreciate it a lot. Make sure you're taking regular breaks and drinking lots and lots of water, make sure you're taking care of yourself. Thank you so much xxx 🥰🥰

THANK YOU THANK YOU ❤️

@tsukkispoundlandheadphones

You are a...

Sakusa Kinnie

Similarities

Alright stating the obvious

YOU BOTH HATE PEOPLE TOUCHING YOU

Although it might be for different reasons

That doesn’t change the fact that you both low key hate people

You both hate social interactions

Whether it be online or in person

Being social is just a no go for you two

Your only friends are people who you’ve known for a long time

Cmon

Sakusa’s friend is LITERALLY his cousin

Like FAMILY

You both are very slow to anger

Cant relate

Like when have we EVER seen sakusa get mad at someone

Disgusted with someone sure

But MAD I don’t think so

Blunt bitches

You both are blunt af

You both just tell it as it is

I mean someone has to do it

Ok this is hard to explain cause there’s no evidence behind it...

But he responds to stressful situations JUST like you

Don’t question it to much

It’s just true

Assumptions I Have About You

I’m sorry but your hot

No buts about it

Speaking of

Here 👐 takes some self confidence

You deserve it I promise

LonerTM

How’s being a homebody?

You let people take the lead in most situations

EVEN THOUGH YOU HAVE THE CAPABILITY TO BE A LEADER

Rbf?

Ok we know you don’t like people touching you

But you absolutely HATE strangers touching you

You either genuinely enjoy cleaning

Or you stress clean

Ilysm never change the world needs more sakusas ❤️

200 Follower Event

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fandom #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu headcanons #sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kin #sakusa kinnie #sakusa Hc #sakusa headcanons

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 4 years

Text

Reggie//i like it here so much i might stay

Request: Can I request an imagine with Reggie Mantle that has an African American girlfriend and he was invited to a family cookout?? I hope that’s ok with you... btw I love your work❤️❤️Thank you!!!

hey!! this is super cute!! its very fluffy and just really sweet. or at least i hope it is! i really hope you like it!! have an amazing day! title is from ‘emoticons’ by the wombats.

The sun shining casts a soft glow over you as you walk home. You and Reggie may have just recently moved in together, renting a little apartment just outside of Riverdale, but it doesn’t mean that your parents aren’t insisting for you to come over every Sunday.

It’s the perfect weather for the first proper cookout Reggie has been invited to and to say both of you are excited is an understatement. Just the thought of all the food makes the both of you walk faster.

Summers officially started meaning there’s going to be plenty of weekends spent like this. And you may have only seen everyone a week ago, but it’s been a long week. Filled with work and unpacking and filling in forms and just getting used to living with each other. So, your dads cooking and your moms hugs are exactly what you need. Even if you do have to suffer through questions about marriage and babies.

You and Reggie hold hands while walking down the busy streets. Reggie swings your arms a little, the motion making you giggle as it slowly turns into a competition as to who can swing them higher. Both of you smile as you pass a few people you know, sending them polite waves and exchanging small talk.

“So are you excited?” You ask, turning the corner onto your street. The memories of you and Reggie that are kept within the street make you smile as you reminisce. Walking home from first dates, sharing shy looks and small touches. Summers spent in the back garden, laughing at stupid jokes and stealing kisses when no one is watching. Winters spent throwing snowballs at each other when the other is unsuspecting, narrowly avoiding passing cars and your mom telling you off, despite being almost 20.

“Very.” Reggie replies, an excited grin on his face as he looks at you. “I’ve been thinking about your dads cooking all week.”

“Aww.” You pinch his cheeks and he rolls his eyes, pushing you away gently. “Is there something else going on with my dad? If you have a little crush you can tell me you know.”

“Nah, it’s just he can cook a lot better than his daughter.” He shrugs, sending you a cheeky smile as you stare at him annoyed.

“Ouch.” You feign offense. “I’ll just remember that the next time you’re hungry and can’t be bothered to make anything.”

“Thats what UberEats is for.” He replies. “Or even better I’ll come here.” He shrugs. You stop walking and glare at him while he continues to walk ahead. Once he realizes you’re not beside him he stops and turns around. Pouting sarcastically at you while you cross your arms.

“Awww, babe.” He teases. “I’m sorry. Come on.” He holds his hand out towards you and you look at it for a few seconds before reluctantly taking it.

“By the looks of all the cars, I think we might be the last one here.” You say as you look around.

“Is that a good or bad thing?” He asks, letting you lead him through the gate and up the steps

“We’ll find out.” You smile. Your eyes light up in the sunlight and Reggie has to take a second to remember how to breathe. You still take his breath away, after all these years spent together. Even when you were just friends, you still managed to make him forget about everything other than you whenever you walked into a room. You don’t notice the way he’s staring at you, too busy trying to remember if there was anything you were might to bring, and he feels his smile grow as he watches your eyebrows furrow and your lips pout.

“Hey, am I forgetting something?” You turn to face him, your breath hitching when you see the way he’s looking at you.

“I don’t think so.” He replies, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “Wait! One more thing before we go in.” He says quickly, and you pause your knocking.

“What?” You ask and look at him. He presses his lips to yours quickly and your eyes flutter shut as he kisses you gently. He pulls away just as quickly, giving you another gentle smile before knocking on the door. However when he notices you looking around panicked, he pauses, the happy expression changing quickly to worry.

“What?”

“Shit. I forgot the dip. My mom is going to kill me.”

“No she isn’t.” He replies, holding up a bag and you look at him in disbelief.

“I didn’t even notice that. How did I not notice that?”

“Too busy staring at my very handsome face.” He laughs, nudging you gently and you roll your eyes at him.

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that.” You reply. “But thank you.” You cup his cheek and kiss him. “Ready?”

“Definitely!” He replies, now practically bouncing as he waits for you to knock on the door.

“Oh, hold on. Before we go in. Don’t mention the divorce. I wasn’t exactly supposed to tell you, and my mom definitely wasn’t supposed to tell me.”

“When would that possibly come up in conversation?” He wonders and you look back at him shrugging.

“Dunno. But it could. So you don’t know anything.” You warn, pointing your finger at him and he holds his hands up.

“I got it.”

“Good.” You smile and finally knock on the door. It’s already unlocked so you push it open. Reggie follows you, closing it behind him and placing the bag on the floor while he takes his jacket off.

Your dad is the first to greet you, walking past the front door with arms full off food when you walk in. Reggie is quick to take some from him once his jacket is hung up and your dad gives him a thankful smile, before turning to look at you.

“Y/n!”

“Hey dad.” You smile and give him a quick hug. “How is everyone?”

“Good, good. Hungry as you can see.” He gestures to the food and you roll your eyes.

“They always are when they come here.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way though.” He laughs. “Come on Reggie, follow me.” The two of them walk through the house and you watch as they walk out into the back garden, Reggie laughing loudly as something he’s said before he starts talking to the rest of your family.

You pick up the bag with the dip in and walk towards the kitchen in hopes of finding your mom. A few of your cousins run past you making you stop quickly, and you smile as they say a quick ‘hi’ to you before running off again.

“Hey mom.” You say to your mom as you walk into the kitchen. She’s got her head in the fridge while she searches for god knows what but you see her stick her arm out to wave at you.

“Here’s the dip you wanted. What do you want me to do with it.”

“You’re late.” She says, sending you a look as she closes the door.

“It was her fault. She insisted on changing her outfit three times.” The patio doors open suddenly and Reggie chimes in from outside.

“Y/n.” Your mom says disappointing and you glare at Reggie.

“Wha-. No, thats not what happened. He was the one that spent an hour just on his hair.” You argue but it’s no use, they both just look at you. Your mom shakes her head and tuts at you while Reggie just smirks proudly at himself.

“I don’t believe that.” She replies and looks at Reggie. “Reggie would never. Now go put these on the table outside and make sure the twins don’t eat any yet.”

“Yes mom.” You huff and grab the stuff off the bench.

“Y/n?” She calls after you and you look back at her.

“I’ve missed you.” She says, a sincere smile on her face and you mirror it, putting the stuff back down so you can hug her.

“I’ve missed you two Mrs Y/l/n.” Reggie walks through the door and you roll your eyes at your boyfriend as you pick up the food. Your mom pinches his cheek and brings him in for a hug and a small smile plays on your lips as you watch them interact.

“Reggie! Do you want a beer.” Your dad shouts from outside and Reggie’s eyes widen as your mom lets go of him.

“I’d love one Mr Y/l/n.” He replies.

“Reginald. You know you can call me Y/d/n.” He replies making you scoff quietly. Reggie passes you with a smirk and you follow him out.

“What do you do to these people? Why do my family love you more than me?”

“What can I say?” He shrugs. “Its just my charm.”

“Y/m/n!” Your dad shouts. “Can I get you a drink?”

“You can, but it’ll take you half an hour.” Your mom retorts making you all laugh loudly.

“I love you sweetheart.” He chuckles.

“I love you too but it still doesn’t change the fact that you have the worst memory in the world.” Your mom replies, coming outside with a tray full of drinks. Reggie helps you put the food down, re-arranging the table to fit everything on and once you’re finished the two of you throw chips at each other when nobody is looking.

“Not as bad as your uncle’s. He forgot he was married.” Reggie whispers making you snort a laugh. A few family members look in your direction and you both send them awkward smiles until they look away.

“I love you.” You whisper.

“I love you too.” He grabs your hand and gives it a quick squeeze before dropping it. Your fingers feel empty without his so you busy yourself with snacking while your mom isn’t paying any attention.

Music floats outside from the radio placed by the door and you take a minute to soak in the moment. Your mom and dad dance while the the food cooks beside them. Your cousins sit in a circle, eating sweets and stolen snacks, despite their parents continuous nagging. Your aunts and uncles talk about work and bills trying hard not to bring up the divorce. And Reggie sits and talks to your grandmother. She laughs at some stupid joke he’s told her and you smile at the sight.

“You okay?” Reggie asks once he returns. Everyone is happily eating, sat on chairs your mom only brings out for special occasions. Reggie sits beside you, being kicked out of his seat by a couple of your cousins. His plate being carefully balanced in his hands as he gets comfy and you look up at him.

“More than okay.” You nod. Your mind wanders to a near distant future when you’re doing this at your own home.

Your dad still insisting on cooking despite Reggie’s protests and your mom moving everything you’ve already put out. Maybe your aunt and uncle sharing snide remarks about each other with their new partners. Your grandmother telling you stories of when her and your grandpa first moved in together. Your cousins older but still just as annoying, bringing first loves with them. It perfect, and it’s so close.

So you grab Reggie’s hand and give it a squeeze, hoping he’s thinking the exact same thing.

He is, and he’s just as excited for it.

#reggie mantle #reggie mantle x reader #reggie mantle imagine #reggie mantle x you #reggie mantle x y/n #riverdale #riverdale imagine

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allsassnoclass · 3 years

Text

Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

Ficmas Day 1 for @calumsclifford <3

Pairing: Michael Clifford/Ashton Irwin

Rating: Teen and Up

Key Tag(s): Fake/Pretend Relationship, Office Party, Pining, Fluff, no warnings needed

Word Count: 15,665

Read on AO3

—

“And you asked Luke and Calum, but neither of them could do it?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you asked some other people, who also said no?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Is there a reason you didn’t ask me?”

Michael had not come up with a reason beyond I’m in love with you and that seems like a recipe for disaster.

“Uh,” he says. “I didn’t think you’d want to. I mean, I already ask you for so much.”

“That’s stupid,” Ashton says. “I like fancy parties, and spending time with you, and helping you. If you’re really set against telling them the truth, then I can be your fake boyfriend for the night.”

Michael has been letting everyone at the office believe he has a boyfriend for the past few months. Things become complicated when they ask to meet his boyfriend at the company winter party.

—

“I need you to be my boyfriend!”

It’s a testament to their experience as friends that neither Calum nor Luke look surprised to have Michael burst through their door haphazardly. He knows his cheeks are flushed from the cold and running up the stairs and his coat probably isn’t buttoned properly and he only has one mitten on, but he’s in a crisis. Calum and Luke don’t even bat an eye, although Luke lifts himself up from where he was tucked against Calum and frowns.

“Which one of us were you talking to? Also, Calum and I are in a monogamous relationship already. Sorry, Mikey.”

“Not my actual boyfriend,” Michael says, kicking off his shoes. There’s snow clinging to the sides, and he steps gingerly over any damp spots in the entry before flinging his coat down on the armchair and flopping right next to Calum on the couch.

“What other type of boyfriend is there?” Luke asks.

“A fake one.”

That finally gets Calum’s attention, who had been pretending that the news was somehow more riveting than Michael’s crisis.

“What did you do?” Calum accuses.

“Nothing!”

Calum’s eyes narrow.

“I maybe have let everyone at work assume that I have a boyfriend and now they expect to meet him at the company holiday party.”

Calum sighs heavily, as if he hasn’t been Michael’s accomplice in far worse situations.

“How did that happen?”

“It just did,” Michael shrugs. “Someone asked if I had a girlfriend back in September, and I said ‘boyfriend’ and they took it to mean that I have a boyfriend rather than want one.”

He had only been working there for three weeks when someone asked the question, and he had been so tired of not setting the record straight at the first possible opportunity. It’s tedious to laugh off something like that and then have to come out later, and Michael figured that if anyone was going to be homophobic at least he would find out then instead of later when he had time to possibly grow to like them first.

Thankfully it hadn’t been an issue, as two other people in the department have same-sex partners.

Everyone there respects his privacy, so he hasn’t had to make up too many details, and it’s been nice to not have to acknowledge just how long it’s been since he last got to kiss a guy, let alone date one.

“Just tell them you don’t have one,” Luke says.

“If I was planning on doing that, I would’ve done so three months ago when this whole thing started. Besides, I think there’s a betting pool involved, or at least a lot of behind my back speculation. There are stakes now.”

“This is what you get for lying,” Calum says, shaking his head. Michael pouts.

Michael was always told that one day, his little white lies would come back to bite him in the butt. He doesn’t make a habit out of fibbing, but sometimes it’s simply easier to say something less-than true in order to save further pain down the road. Insisting that he had done all of his homework by himself was easier than admitting that he and Calum did half each, and he got more free time out of it. Telling Calum that Luke ate the last cookie instead of him saved Calum from a foul mood, because he’s unable to stay mad at Luke. Telling Ashton that he was not, in fact, planning him a birthday party made the surprise that much sweeter.

When he told his coworkers that he has a boyfriend, he had expected this to be like every other little, insignificant lie he tells. Now, he is paying the price. He’s probably paying the price for every single lie he’s ever gotten away with in the past.

“This is a bit extreme for karma,” he says. “Anyway, it’d be one night only, and apparently the party is pretty fancy. Since headquarters is just over in Minneapolis, we’re invited to join theirs. There’s a raffle with big prizes, plus a free catered dinner.”

“If it’s with headquarters, neither of us can go,” Luke says. “My cousin works there. She’d recognize me or Cal, and she definitely knows we’re dating each other, not you.”

“Really?” Michael asks. “Shit. You two were my best bets. I needed to pick someone who wouldn’t fall in love with me.”

“You know,” Luke says. “We do have another friend who is single and who you want to fall in love with you.”

“No,” Michael says. “Absolutely not.”

“Come on, just think about it,” Luke says. “Ashton would probably have a great time, and you’d get to show him off, maybe kiss him under the mistletoe...”

“He’d do it,” Calum says. “He bends over backwards to help you already, and he loves schmoozing at fancy parties. Plus, depending on how fancy it is you might get to see him in a suit.”

“No,” Michael repeats. “The last thing I need is to have Ashton pretend to be my boyfriend. If he was going to fall in love with me, he would’ve done it by now, and I don’t need a taste of what being with him would be like without any of the substance.”

Luke huffs and sits back. Calum merely raises his eyebrows.

“Good luck finding someone else to go along with this.”

Michael flips him off and gets out his phone to start making calls. He gets through seven refusals before he finally considers that Ashton may be the best viable option.

“No luck?” Calum asks, smirking. Michael slumps against the couch and rubs at his eyes.

“Roy said that this is probably the universe giving me a sign. Also he’s busy on the night of the party.”

“I can’t picture Roy and you pretending to date, anyway,” Luke says. “Honestly, I think all of those would’ve failed. Your coworkers would see through you in an instant. You’d become the laughing stock of the office.”

“I could’ve at least had fun with Jack,” Michael says.

“He would’ve been laughing at you and texting Alex the entire time,” Calum says. “Call Ashton. Better yet, go to his house and talk it out in person. Luke and I are supposed to be on a date in 30 minutes.”

“He’s expecting you,” Luke says, typing out something on his phone. “He made baked ziti and needs you to help him eat it.”

“Did you tell him?” Michael asks, sitting up so fast he gets dizzy.

“I just said that you’re in crisis and will be coming over.”

“He’s going to laugh at me.”

“You deserve it,” Calum says, placing a hand on his shoulder. “But you also know that he’s going to do everything he can to help you, and he’ll have better suggestions than me or Luke. We’re good at getting you into trouble, not out of it.”

Michael sighs. It’s not that he thought he could somehow keep this situation a secret from Ashton, but it’s still mortifying to consider confessing to him that he’s done something stupid enough to require finding a fake boyfriend in order to continue a long con he’s pulling on his coworkers.

He should probably tell everyone that he never had a boyfriend to begin with, but that seems like too little, too late when he has already panicked and told everyone that his boyfriend will come to the holiday party. Michael is not a quitter. This may not be a competition, but he will win, and winning means not facing the embarrassment of admitting the truth.

“Okay,” he sighs. “I can’t believe you two are kicking me out in my time of need so you can go on a date.”

“Talk to Ashton and you might get a date for the holiday party,” Calum says. “Then you can stop being a third wheel and we can double date instead of kicking you out.”

“I hope this works out for you, Mikey,” Luke says.

“Don’t give me false hope, please,” he says. “It’s been years.”

Michael stands in silence, the others knowing better than to try and convince him Ashton could possibly like him, too. He ran out of hope for that a long time ago, and he’s been attempting and failing to get rid of this pesky crush ever since.

“Stay warm out there,” Calum says, standing and following him to the door. “Tell Ashton we say hi. If there’s anything else we can do to help, just ask.”

“You’re sure that neither of you can be my boyfriend?” Michael asks one last time, slipping his arms into his coat and fighting with the zipper.

“Sorry,” Luke says, not sounding very sorry at all. “Ask Ashton!”

“Fuck you,” Michael calls back cheerily, stepping out the door.

Leaving the sanctuary of the apartment complex for the cold of a Minnesota winter sucks, especially since his car has cooled down almost all the way again, but Ashton’s house isn’t too far away. Michael is the outlier, living in a suburb while the others stayed closer to the heart of St. Paul. He likes being close enough to the cities to easily commute for work and have access to all of the events happening, but it’s nice to not have to fight traffic for every little thing, even if the roads outside his house aren’t always plowed as nicely as the ones outside Ashton’s.

He traverses the familiar streets until he finally pulls into Ashton’s driveway with just enough room behind Ashton’s car that he’s not blocking the sidewalk. Ashton has some Christmas lights up, just a string of simple blue ones following his roofline. Michael sits in his car and watches them blink on and off, giving the impression of the stars they can’t see from light pollution, or of gently falling snow.

Ashton appears in his kitchen window, reaching into the cupboard next to it, surrounded by warm light. He glances out and spots Michael’s car, face splitting into a smile and giving him a wave. Michael has been in this position a million times before, but he wonders what it would be like if Ashton was calling him into their house after a long day, without having to leave at the end of the night.

He’s been spotted now. Michael has no choice but to get out of the car.

“Hi,” Ashton calls from the kitchen when he lets himself in. “Make yourself at home! Dinner’s almost ready!”

Michael likes Ashton’s house. It’s small, but in a way that mostly feels cozy rather than cramped. The outside is white but the door is a light red, verging on pink, and each of the rooms inside is painted a different color, something which Ashton always says he’s going to change but has never gotten around to doing. Michael hangs up his coat on one of the many hooks by the entrance, then toes off his shoes and flexes his fingers, trying to get some warmth back into them. He runs cold, so winter is a constant struggle to keep his fingers from freezing off.

He steps into the living room, painted a pale green with mismatched furniture and warm blankets thrown over every surface. Michael helped pick out the rug that dominates most of the floor space, and it makes him happy every time he comes over to see it. Ashton doesn’t have a tree yet, but there’s a space for it cleared in the corner. The dining room and kitchen are one room right off the living room and painted yellow. Michael wanders over to the baking pan covered in foil, lifting up the corner to inhale the scent of freshly-cooked pasta, cheese, and sauce.

“Hey, no premature tasting,” Ashton says. “If you’re going to be in the kitchen, make yourself useful and set the table.”

“You could say hello before you start ordering me around,” Michael says. Ashton stops flittering around long enough to pause in front of Michael, hands on hips and smile on his face. There’s steamed broccoli on the counter that definitely added to the current frizziness of his hair, and he’s wearing an off-white cable-knit sweater with the sleeves pushed up. Michael hates himself for the way everything about this situation makes his heart flutter.

“I said hello when you first got here. You’re the one breaking in to eat my food without a word of greeting.”

“Hi, Ashton,” Michael says, accepting the brief hug Ashton offers. “You’re welcome for helping eat your food so the leftovers don’t overtake your fridge.”

“If I knew how to adjust the cooking times on this recipe for smaller portions, I would.”

That’s a lie. Ashton enjoys feeding his friends. Michael has at least one dinner a week at Ashton’s house under the excuse of him making too much food for one person.

Michael gets out two plates and the appropriate silverware and sets the table. He gets out his favorite glass, a novelty Star Wars one with art of the celebration of Endor printed on it, and gets the matching Tatooine one for Ashton because he knows it’ll make him roll his eyes. There’s apple juice and water in the fridge, and by the time Ashton has brought all of the food over Michael is sitting patiently at the table, hands folded neatly in front of him.

“So,” Ashton says once they both have a good helping of baked ziti, broccoli, and garlic bread on their plates, “Luke said you’re in crisis?”

Michael sighs.

“Promise you won’t laugh?”

“I’ll try,” Ashton says. Michael shamefully recounts the sticky situation he has brought upon himself, avoiding eye contact the entire time. Ashton chews slowly once he’s done, taking his time swallowing before he figures out what he wants to say.

“Hm.”

“Yeah,” Michael says, for lack of anything else.

“And you asked Luke and Calum, but neither of them could do it?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you asked some other people, who also said no?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Is there a reason you didn’t ask me?”

Michael had not come up with a reason beyond I’m in love with you and that seems like a recipe for disaster.

“Uh,” he says.

“If you don’t think you could pretend to like me, that’s fine. I was just curious,” Ashton says, stabbing at his broccoli.

“It’s definitely not that,” Michael says. “I didn’t think you’d want to. I mean, I already ask you for so much. I’m eating your pasta right now. It didn’t seem fair to ask you to do this, too.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Ashton smiles, all dimples and sunshine. Michael wants to bask in Ashton’s smiles forever.

“Awesome. Crisis averted.”

It can’t be that simple, but Ashton’s easy confidence makes it feel like it is. Michael doesn’t know why he was freaking out about the situation. If anything, his crush on Ashton will make everything more believable, and Michael can pass himself off as a really good actor if questioned.

The rest of the night passes like every other dinner they’ve had with the two of them. They talk about their weeks and about any random topics they choose, then Ashton picks a CD and they do the dishes, Ashton washing and Michael drying. Ashton convinces him to stay later and watch a movie, and Michael lingers too long afterwards. When he eventually tears himself away, it’s only after a late-night cup of hot chocolate and multiple uncontrollable yawns.

When he goes to bed that night, he steadfastly does not think about how he will be calling Ashton his boyfriend in a few weeks.

-/-

Michael doesn’t talk to Ashton about fake dating again until the day before the party. He’s been forwarding the office emails about it, so Ashton knows the date and time, that this is a suit-worthy event, and what the food options are. Otherwise, though, their time together has been filled with everything except mentions of the party and the con that will go down there. Michael has been avoiding Luke and Calum due to all of the teasing, so he and Ashton go shopping for Luke and Calum’s presents together, Michael pointing out things that Ashton’s family might like on the way. Ashton has a list of Christmas movies he wants to watch that they begin steadily working through, and Michael begins a snowball fight one day that Ashton wins. Thankfully, Ashton agrees to make him cocoa and cuddle him after stuffing snow down the back of his jacket. Michael’s face gets red enough that Ashton frets he might be coming down with something.

The something is being hopelessly in love.

Ashton texts him on Friday asking if he wants to come over early so they can get ready together and talk through their boyfriend story.

Boyfriend story. He’s supposed to refer to Ashton as his boyfriend tomorrow.

He shows up at his house as requested, and Ashton greets him with a cup of hot cocoa, freshly made just the way Michael likes it. Ashton stocks up on cocoa mix as soon as it hits October, making it at any and every opportunity. On days when multiple people are over, sometimes he’ll make it from scratch, breaking out the cocoa powder, sugar, milk, and chocolate to create the best beverage Michael has ever tasted, sometimes with a secret ingredient Ashton makes him guess. Michael rarely gets it right, but the praise he gets from Ashton on the days where he does manage to identify the extra flavor makes every loss more than worth it.

Ashton takes his with marshmallows, but Michael prefers whipped cream. It warms him more than the beverage to see the pile of whip on top, stocked just for Michael.

“You put up your tree!” Michael calls while Ashton prepares his cup. There are no presents underneath nor stockings on the wall since Ashton spends Christmas day with his family, but the small fake tree is erected every year to help him get into a festive mood. Michael steps closer and recognizes most of the ornaments on it, either from previous Christmases or because he was there when they were bought. Pieces of a tiny drum set hang from a set of branches near the front, each part paid for by a different member of their friend group as a gift after Superbloom Studios opened. Michael bought the high hat.

“Second week of December. It’s tradition,” Ashton says, shuffling into the room carefully with a mug in each hand. Michael reaches for his, careful not to spill when he takes it from him.

“I saved your ornament,” he says, nodding to the coffee table where a small wooden “M” sits, painted to look like the torso of a snowman.

“Thanks,” Michael says, setting down the cocoa and picking up the ornament. It was originally a joke gift, but now every year Ashton ensures that he puts it on the tree. There’s a nice open branch near the bottom that he takes advantage of, giving himself time to admire the tree once more before finally sitting.

“So,” Ashton says. “How did we get together?”

Michael takes a sip of his cocoa, burning his tongue just slightly.

“You have whip on your nose,” Ashton says, just like he does every time. Michael sighs and swipes a thumb across it, sucking the whipped cream into his mouth so none of it goes to waste.

Ashton clears his throat.

“So. Boyfriend story.”

“Boyfriend story,” Michael agrees. “We have to have been together in September, but otherwise I’ve been really vague. We can make up whatever we want.”

“Okay,” Ashton says, nodding. “We should probably stick as close to truth as possible, so our meeting story can still be the same, but maybe we started dating mid-summer?”

“The lake trip?”

“Yeah!” Ashton says. “Do you remember that night, it was like our second night there, where we just sat at the end of the dock and looked at the stars? Everyone else was at the bonfire, so it was just us. Maybe I asked you then.”

Michael remembers that night clearly. He had gone down to the dock to get some space, needing a breather after all of the activity of the day and Ashton walking around without a shirt basically since they got there. Even so, when Ashton eventually joined him it was like a sigh of relief. He knows more about stars than Michael does, so Michael leaned back and let him point out different constellations and make up stories for unfamiliar ones, trying not to stare at the shadowy profile of Ashton instead of the sky. The small waves of the lake rose and fell, covering his ankles then dipping lower in a steady rhythm mimicking his heartbeat. Ashton kept their arms pressed together almost the entire time.

He had wanted to kiss him, so he pushed him in the lake instead.

“Yeah,” Michael says. “That sounds good.”

“Okay, good. Great! What else do we need to figure out? How serious are we?”

“Uh, medium?” Michael asks. “It’s been five months, so nothing too daunting but more than just a casual thing.”

“What’s the PDA going to look like?”

“Uh,” Michael says. Ashton takes a sip of his cocoa.

“I mean… are we still in the honeymoon phase? Will we be holding hands a lot? What’s our game plan if we somehow end up under the mistletoe? I don’t think anyone can make us kiss without opening themselves up to a workplace harassment suit, but are we going to do a cheek kiss? Are you okay with me kissing you? What about--”

“You need to slow down,” Michael says. “Give me some time to think, jeez.”

“Sorry,” Ashton says. “Boundaries are important. I don’t want to cross any.”

“You won’t. I’m down for anything.”

“Really?” Ashton asks, skeptical. He sets his cocoa down and moves until he’s right next to Michael on the couch, then slings an arm around his shoulder, tucking him close. Michael melts into his side easily. “So something like this would be fine?”

“You mean what I do with you, Calum, and Luke at every opportunity?’

“Okay,” Ashton says, adjusting so his hand is now on Michael’s thigh. It’s more unfamiliar, a different weight in a more intimate spot, but not unwelcome. Michael suppresses the shiver it sends through him.

“Still okay,” he says.

“Alright,” Ashton says. After a moment of consideration, he takes Michael’s mug from him and replaces it with his own hand, clasping them together palm to palm.

“Wait, I don’t like this,” he says, adjusting so their fingers are threaded together instead, then undoing it and just holding their hands flat against each other. Michael lines their hands up, fingers following the same lines. He wonders if Ashton can feel the calluses that form whenever Michael has time to pick up a guitar. The metal of his rings is warmer than Michael anticipated. Every moment that they stay frozen like that makes Michael’s heart pound harder, even though they’re simply touching hands, something ordinary and barely worthy of comment.

“Your hands are freezing,” Ashton says quietly.

“Your hands make mine look so tiny,” Michael says.

“They are tiny,” Ashton says. “I’m trying to figure out how to hold them.”

“Like this.” Michael laces their fingers together again gently, one space over from how Ashton had done it. “Who knew that holding hands would be the thing to trip you up?”

“I guess I haven’t had anyone’s hands to hold in a while. I’m out of practice on this whole romance thing.”

“You’re doing alright so far.”

“Well, this is the easy stuff. Are you sure you’re down for anything?”

“Yeah,” Michael says, heart leaping into his throat at the possibility of what that could mean.

Ashton hums, then shifts so he’s facing Michael. His eyes search his face and Michael does his best not to show any of his thoughts, especially how much he wants Ashton to do one particular thing. He steadfastly keeps his gaze locked on his eyes instead of letting it flicker down to his lips.

Ashton leans in slowly, telegraphing his movements, and presses a lingering kiss to his cheek, nose pressing into his cheekbone and breath against his face. Michael can’t stop his inhale, catching a whiff of Ashton’s favorite cologne, just from the proximity.

“Still okay,” he manages to say. Ashton doesn’t lean back, comfortable staying in Michael’s space, probably close enough to hear how loudly his heart is beating.

“And if I moved a few inches to the left?”

Michael swallows.

“Still okay.”

For a moment he thinks that Ashton might do it, just to see how far he can press. Michael will always meet him challenge for challenge, and he has the perfect excuse for it. Ashton’s just so close, and Michael might never have this opportunity again despite fantasizing about it for years. It would be so easy to now. He almost turns and presses their lips together himself, but Ashton pulls away right before he finds the courage to do so.

“Okay,” Ashton says, picking up his cocoa again. “We can play it by ear. We’ll just do what feels natural and appropriate for the situation. Sound good?”

Michael nods. Ashton glances at him over his mug.

“Are you sure? You’re in charge here, Michael. I’m willing to do whatever you want me to.”

“No, that’s good,” he says. “That’s the best way to do it.”

Ashton observes him for a moment longer, in that way that makes Michael feel like he’s revealing too much. Secrets from Ashton are the hardest ones to keep, but he’s had a lot of practice.

“If you say so,” Ashton says. “If I do something you don’t like, just tell me.”

“Yeah, same to you.”

Michael picks up his mug again.

“What do you think our worst date was?” Ashton asks. Michael snorts into his cocoa, because only Ashton would put that as a high priority part of their boyfriend story, but they spend almost all of the time until they need to get ready coming up with increasingly ridiculous scenarios and arguing over whether either of them would plan that as a date in the first place. Michael has long since finished his drink by the time Ashton checks the time and says they need to get ready.

Michael doesn't start to feel nervous until he's standing in front of the bathroom mirror, struggling with his tie and feeling ridiculous for it. The office encourages business casual, so he rarely has to wear one, but apparently because the party is joint with headquarters the dress code is stricter.

Michael was not made for formal wear. He feels best when he gets to dress down, and he knows that his preferred hairstyle doesn't always align with a clean suit and tie. For a long time, he didn't even have a suit coat that fit right, but his parents paid for one for his birthday over a year ago with the idea that it'd help him get a better job. It did eventually work, but he never breaks it out unless he has to.

“Hey Michael?" Ashton calls from outside. "Do I need a tie if I wear a red shirt instead of a white one?"

"Do whatever you want," Michael responds. "Just be sure you're not showing all your chest hair. Can you tie my tie?"

Ashton pushes the door open. Michael catches a flash of red out of the corner of his eye before he turns and takes in the full picture. Ashton looks stunning, and even though Michael expected that it takes his breath away. His suit fits his shoulders nicely and tapers at the waist, and the red compliments his skin tone well, bold and vivid. Michael is pleased to see that only the top two buttons are undone, keeping things appropriate, but there's a thin gold chain peaking out just below his collarbones. He wants to trace it with his finger, then let his hands wander lower.

"Wow," he says. "You clean up nice."

"My hair is a mess. I need to put some gel in it before we go," Ashton says, batting Michael's hands away from his tie and taking over. "Are you nervous?"

"A little," Michael admits, tilting his chin up to give Ashton better access. "This would be a bit nerve-wracking even without the fake boyfriend thing. I don't think I'm going to know many people there."

"Well, you'll have me." He tightens the tie, then cups Michael's cheek. He leans into it, leaching the comfort provided.

"There," Ashton says. "I have the most handsome boyfriend tonight. He was even considerate enough to match his tie to my shirt. Everyone is going to be jealous."

"Thanks," Michael says. He steps back and hands Ashton the container of hair cream on the counter, watching him rub a bit of it between his fingers then comb through his hair, adjusting the way it's artfully tousled and smoothing the sides until he's satisfied.

"Maybe I have the most handsome boyfriend tonight," he says.

"Now you're just trying to butter me up," Ashton replies, grinning at him. "I already agreed to this. The flattery is unnecessary, but not unwelcome."

"Can't I just think you're a good looking guy?" Michael asks, trying to keep the tone teasing like he would with Luke or Calum. "You're a sexy motherfucker, Irwin; I hate to break it to you."

"That's rich coming from you."

"We don't have time for this," Michael laughs, pushing him out of the bathroom. "I can't show up late to my first office winter party just because you won't take my compliment without trying to one-up me."

"There are worse reasons to be late," Ashton protests, planting his feet so Michael has to actually put in an effort, stumbling when Ashton suddenly relents. He catches Michael with a cheeky grin.

"Move," Michael laughs, savoring how close they're standing, tethered together by Ashton's hands on his elbows. "We have to go."

Ashton’s eyes search his face, suspended in the moment like he knows that Michael wants nothing else than to live here forever. Michael sways forward, magnetic pull too strong, but Ashton steps back in the same moment, moving them out of the bathroom and tugging him towards the door.

“Bundle up,” Ashton says. “I hear it’s cold outside.”

-/-

The venue is simultaneously huge and very difficult to find. Ashton puts the address in his phone, but he’s a bad navigator and recent snowfall makes the roads slick, complicating the driving process more. They’re supposed to get more snow tonight, but Michael can find Ashton’s house in any context and situation, like a homing pigeon on the return journey. It would be his most useless skill if he didn’t end up in the driver’s seat after almost every gig they go to, Ashton always too hyped up and focused on the music to enjoy driving home.

The nearest place to park is a block away and lands Ashton in a snowbank. Michael gets out first and offers him a steadying hand, and Ashton beats him to paying the meter. He links their arms as they walk, breath fogging in front of their faces.

“It’s a beautiful night, sweetheart,” Ashton says.

“Sweetheart?”

“Just trying out some pet names, seeing what fits, honey. Darling? I feel like I shouldn’t be saying babe if we’re both wearing suits in front of your fancy work friends.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Michael says, as if he hasn’t bit his tongue against calling Ashton babe before. He’s not the type of person who can pull off platonic pet names.

“We’re really flying by the seat of our pants here.”

“It’ll be fine, right?” Michael asks. “No one has a reason to think I’m lying, so they’ll believe us even if we mess up.”

“They will,” Ashton says. “I’m going to be so in love with you they’ll wonder if we’re eloping tomorrow.”

Michael’s heart leaps into his throat. When Ashton puts his mind to something, it happens. He might really have to watch himself to ensure that he doesn’t fall for their lie, too.

“Is this it?” Ashton asks under his breath as they arrive at the doors. A couple in front of them pull them open, the woman in a longer dress and the man wearing a peacoat over his suit. “Damn, Michael, maybe I should’ve worn a tie.”

“It’ll be fine,” Michael says. “No one is going to be paying attention to us. Besides, you never have to see these people again.”

Ashton hums, holding the door for Michael and following him into the venue entrance. He lets out a low whistle once he sees what’s inside.

The floor looks like it’s marble. There’s a chandelier, golden light reflecting off of crystalline shards to pepper dots like stars across the space. Evergreen trees stand in the corner, gold and silver lights hidden within the branches and surrounded by red and blue baubles. If this is the entry, Michael can’t imagine what the actual event space looks like.

“Hey. Coat check,” Ashton says, nudging Michael out of his chandelier-induced trace and towards the area where an employee waits to take their coats in exchange for a numbered ticket. A different employee at the entrance then asks for their names, because apparently this party needs a guest list , before they finally enter the main event space.

It’s just as stunning as the entry. There’s a larger chandelier in this one, hanging over rows of tables with red and gold tablecloths. Each table has a centerpiece, some with evergreen boughs and pine cones, some with ribbon and candles, each one stunning. Near the front of the room, Michael thinks he can make out an open dance floor and a small stage through the clumps of people in suits and fancy dresses.

“I shouldn’t be here,” he says. “This is a party for people who make six figures. I do not belong here.”

“I thought you audit a bank for farmers,” Ashton says. “Don’t normal work parties include ugly sweater contests and too much eggnog? Why the fuck do farm bankers need suits and chandeliers?”

“I have no fucking clue,” Michael says, eyes scanning over the people he can see in a desperate attempt to find a familiar face. Only half of these people are from headquarters, but Michael still only knows the people in his department. He doesn’t have much contact with people outside of it due to the variety of companies making up their conglomerate, each with a different set of staff.

“Michael!” someone calls. It takes a moment to spot Harry coming towards him, which shouldn’t be possible because Harry’s suit has colorful flowers on it. He’s holding hands with a man Michael recognizes as his husband only because Harry never shuts up about him, making his way through the crowd with a level of enthusiasm that Michael can feel himself automatically mirroring. Harry’s joy has always been infectious, getting Michael through a few long days since he got hired.

Ashton shifts closer and Michael’s adrenaline spikes with the knowledge that the ruse starts now. Harry is Michael’s favorite coworker: if they trick him, they can probably trick everyone.

"Hello," Harry says once he gets close enough to be heard over the sound of everyone else in the room talking and what seems to be faint classical music in the background. "You're the first person I've recognized here."

"Same," Michael says. "I wasn't expecting it to be this crowded."

"Headquarters is big," Harry says. "At least we get free food and to see Lou in a suit."

Harry's companion rolls his eyes.

"You haven't even introduced us and already you're objectifying me. I'm Louis, Harry's husband," he says, sticking out a hand. Michael takes it.

"Michael," he says. "This is Ashton."

"Michael's boyfriend," Ashton adds, taking Louis's hand next and making Michael’s heart stutter. It rolls off Ashton’s tongue so naturally. He’ll probably be hearing him say that in his dreams for the foreseeable future.

Harry lights up like a Christmas tree.

"Ashton," he enthuses. "It's so good to meet you. Alexis owes me fifty dollars."

"What for?" Michael asks.

"Well, we were betting if Ashton was your boyfriend or not. You never actually told us which one of your friends it is, but I could tell by how you talk about him. She thought that was too obvious for how cryptic you were being."

"You talk about me to your work friends?" Ashton asks. Michael tries to shrug nonchalantly.

"All the time," Harry says.

“Do I need to be worried?” Ashton asks.

“Yeah,” Michael says. “I’ve revealed all of your deepest, darkest secrets.”

“It’s cute,” Harry says. “You can tell he thinks the world of you.”

“I don’t even mention Ashton that that much,” he protests. “Not nearly as much as you talk about Louis.”

“No one can top Harry for that,” Louis snorts. “I swear, no one I meet through him ever needs an introduction, because he’s probably already told them everything they could possibly want to know.”

“If it makes you feel better, I know nothing about you,” Ashton says. “You can introduce yourself to me.”

“Well, don’t mind if I do,” Louis says cheekily.Ashton easily sweeps him into conversation, listening intently to his stories as a drama teacher and asking the right questions to keep things going. Michael has heard half of this information from Harry already, but Louis breathes a new life into it. Michael watches him speak, noticing the way that Harry easily leans into him, how they seamlessly finish each other’s sentences and subconsciously know exactly how they fit together. Louis gestures and Harry shifts so he won’t get hit, leaning back into his space with a hand on his back within the next second. Their eyes light up when they glance at each other in between breaths, and Michael feels a pang in his gut.

He wants something like that, someday. It’s the same thing that he sees with Calum and Luke, or Jack and Alex. He wants to share those small touches and brief looks with someone else and know that they’re returned fully. He knows that he sometimes displays his fondness all over his face when he looks at Ashton, but it’s not the same when he has to look away to keep from getting caught.

At least he doesn’t have to look away tonight. He can probably spend as much time as he wants admiring Ashton’s smile and eyes and jawline and everything without repercussions. After all, he’s supposed to be in love, and someone should appreciate that one stubborn strand of hair brushing Ashton’s forehead.

“...Right, Michael?” Ashton asks, words finally reaching Michael’s ears.

“Yeah,” he says, blinking himself out of his daze. He feels his cheeks heat up in a blush. It probably won’t be the last time tonight. “Sorry, what were we talking about?”

“I was telling Louis about Superbloom Studios,” Ashton says, bumping their shoulders together. “Mentioned how you helped Matt and I learn how to use the equipment way back when we first bought it, and now there are secret Michael Clifford demos that legally can’t see the light of day without copyright infringement.”

“You’ve had much better musicians pass through your doors since,” Michael says. “Want to reveal who your most recent client was?”

Ashton mimes zipping his lips.

“You know I can’t until they announce the album. We’re trying to make the Twin Cities a hot spot for Top 40s artists to record, not chase them all away by breaking confidentiality.”

“But a song you produced could be on Top 40 radio soon?” Louis asks. “That’s impressive.”

“We’ll see,” Ashton sings. “I’m not in the habit of counting my chickens before they hatch.”

“No, you’re just in the habit of being a tease.”

Ashton quirks an eyebrow. It makes Michael itch to do something, although he doesn’t know what.

Eventually, he decides to just roll his eyes and cross his arms, pouting a bit. Ashton slips an arm around his waist and presses a kiss to the side of his head, the first real point of contact since entering the event space, and his stomach somersaults multiple times in a row.

Harry and Louis look amused, not suspicious.

“I like this side of you,” Harry says.

“What side?” Michael asks.

“The in-love one. You’re… lighter.”

Michael opens his mouth, but ultimately doesn’t know what to say to that. Ashton replies instead.

“I like it, too.”

They spend the next few minutes talking to Harry and Louis, filling time while other people who seem leagues more comfortable with this event fill the space. Eventually the clock must tick over to the starting time, because someone steps up to the podium at the front of the room and taps the microphone asking for attention.

“Is that our president?” Michael asks Harry, completely not paying attention to the short opening statement about the “success of the company” and how it’s been a “phenomenal year full of milestones and achievements.”

“Yeah,” Harry whispers back. "He'll get up and talk again later, after dinner. Speaking of, we should find a table."

Harry looks over everyone until he sees someone he recognizes, grabbing Louis's hand to start covertly making their way through the crowd, glancing back at Michael and nodding in the direction he's going. Michael grabs Ashton, who seems like he was actually trying to listen, and follows them. As weird as holding his hand earlier had been, weaving through the people standing around with a hand around Ashton’s wrist is comfortable and familiar. It's nothing that they haven't done before at crowded shows pushing towards the barricade or particularly busy streets, but Michael doesn't have to let go once they reach their destination if he doesn't want to.

Their destination ends up being a trio of tables near the center of the room flooded with people that Michael finally recognizes. Alexis, Miranda, Dalmar, Imani, and Jason all wave when they arrive, surrounded by who Michael assumes are their own plus-ones. They slip into seats next to Alexis and her partner, trying to make as little commotion as possible with the president of the company still talking at the front.

While Harry is his favorite coworker, Alexis is arguably the most entertaining. She gets away with pranks and backtalk that Michael is too worried about job security to ever consider, but her after-work gatherings are always a highlight of the week. It would be possible that management is keeping her around solely to boost morale if not for her eye for detail that has saved mistakes from appearing in many projects and reports.

"Hey," Alexis whispers, leaning across Michael to grab Ashton's attention. "I'm Alexis. What's your name?"

"Ashton Irwin," Ashton says, giving her a smile. Alexis swears, dropping her head down to the table.

"You owe me money," Harry stage whispers. She takes a few bills out of her purse without looking and throws them in his general direction. "Thank you!"

"I want to be included in the next office betting pool," Michael whispers. "I want to cheat you out of fifty dollars next time."

"It's not hard," Harry says. "She always bets to lose."

Alexis flips him off.

The president continues to drone on, and Michael starts bouncing his leg up and down out of boredom until Ashton places a hand on it to stop him. He mouths an apology, but Ashton simply slips off his puzzle ring, handing it over. Michael hopes his smile conveys how grateful he is to have something else to fidget with.

When the president finally stops talking, Michael pays attention to his surroundings just enough to realize that tables are being dismissed to go get food one by one. It looks like they won't get to join the line for a while, to his great disappointment. He's getting pretty hungry and the thought of Alexis interrogating Ashton without a distraction makes him nervous. He hands back the ring and switches to tracing the poinsettia pattern woven into the tablecloth, trying not to fidget more while Alexis introduces Jamie and points out the rest of his coworkers at the other tables to Ashton.

"So," Alexis says, leaning on her elbow and propping her head up with her fist, "Michael has told us a few things about you, but how did you meet?"

"At college," Ashton says, draping his arm across the back of Michael's chair as he turns to face Alexis more fully. "We met at a party once, but we didn't really talk until a mutual friend brought us together. He's been one of my best friends ever since."

"Oh, you two have been together a long time," Alexis says.

"We didn't get together until this summer," Ashton corrects good-naturedly. "It was a lot of pining before that. I mean, you've met Michael. I never stood a chance."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Michael frowns.

"Falling for you was inevitable, sweetheart."

Michael blinks at him. That's not something he ever expected to hear, a little over the top even for their fake romance, and he absolutely does not have a response prepared.

"Aw, that's sweet," Alexis says. "Please tell me you guys are actually a normal couple and not a pile of goop like those two over there. Believe me, I love love as much as the next person, but if Jamie and I are the only two here who aren't completely and grossly obsessed with each other we're going to move to the straight coworkers’ table."

"Hey," Harry says, breaking his conversation with Louis to flip her off. Alexis returns it without even glancing at him, an ingrained part of their banter by now. It’s surprising that they haven't gotten reprimanded for it in the office yet.

"If we were as bad as them, you wouldn't have lost fifty dollars just now, don't you think?" Michael asks.

"He has a point," Jamie says. "Besides, everyone is entitled to a honeymoon period."

She takes Alexis's hand on the table and squeezes. Alexis rolls her eyes but squeezes back.

Ashton asks them how long they've been together, then effectively keeps the focus on everyone else at the table instead of them. One of his many skills is making everyone in the room feel like they are the most important person, and Michael is glad that he doesn't have to try to deflect or make up stories right now. Maybe it'll be easier later. Ashton already has everyone he's met wrapped around his finger and hanging off his every word, drawn by the magnetic energy he carries that made Michael first talk to him at that college party all those years ago, but some part of Michael still feels like everyone is going to see through their facade. He knows that theoretically no one cares, but the confirmation of the betting pool makes him jittery. It shouldn't be a big deal, but now he hasn't just lied about having a boyfriend, he's lied about the boyfriend being Ashton , and somehow that's worse.

Still, he can't let Ashton pull all of the weight. He needs to start selling this, too.

Should he initiate some sort of PDA? It's not like he can naturally grab one of Ashton's hands, because he's still leaning on Michael's chair, and anything else feels out of place. Besides, they said that they'd do what feels natural, and none of this is natural to him.

He's overthinking this. He should just pay attention and try to enjoy the night, but that seems like an impossible task with Ashton and Alexis boxing him in on either side. One of them is significantly more distracting than the other, but Michael finds himself wishing that they could just be alone, enjoying one of Ashton's home-cooked meals and the next Christmas movie on his list. Whatever catered dinner they have here isn't going to compare to the way any food tastes when Michael knows that Ashton is the one who made it for him while they enjoy it at his dining room table, and as much as he feels lucky to get on so well with his coworkers, he can do without their company if he has Ashton with him instead.

“Mike,” Ashton says, nudging him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Time to get food,” Ashton says, standing. Michael looks around the table and sees that everyone else is already making their way over to the buffet line. Ashton waits for him and sets a slow pace on their way over.

“You’re really spacey tonight. You okay?”

“Yeah,” Michael says. “I’m fine.”

Ashton gives him an unimpressed look.

“Seriously,” Michael says. “I’m just overthinking. I’ll be much more enjoyable once we eat and I relax a bit.”

“What can I do?” Ashton asks.

“You’re really playing up the doting boyfriend thing.”

“Hey, no,” Ashton says, pausing. He looks around, then lowers his voice. “I’d ask that even if we weren’t boyfriends right now. You’re important to me, Michael. If I can do something for you, I want to.”

“Thanks,” Michael says. “It’s not a big deal, though. Like I said, once we’re eating and I have other things to focus on it’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” Ashton nods once, then takes Michael’s hand. It feels more natural now than it was earlier, smile breaking out unbidden on his face as he squeezes back.

“Come on,” Ashton says. “Food time.”

The buffet is full of delicious options, with pit ham, chicken, pasta, potatoes, roasted vegetables, fruit, hummus, different breads with various spreads, and a cheese platter. Michael and Ashton collaborate to get a little bit of everything, something Ashton probably is only doing to make Michael happy given how closely he guards his food whenever they eat out. If that’s the intention, it works. Michael wants to taste everything, and he can only do that with two plates.

The soft instrumental music makes a return for dinner, gentle conversation starting up at the table once they sit and a staff member brings water around. Michael samples each dish on Ashton’s plate, letting Ashton take what he wants from his, finally settling enough to keep up his typical banter with Alexis, Harry, and their partners. He talks a bit with the other table, settling another bet between Imani and Dalmar and watches Imani collect twenty dollars for having the closest answer to when Michael and Ashton started dating. Her absolutely gleeful expression makes Michael snort, erasing some of the discomfort of the lie.

Staff members for the event space come around with options for dessert, and Michael is once again delighted when Ashton chooses something different from him, an apple crumble while Michael gets a slice of cake. Ashton pushes the plate towards him when it arrives, encouraging him to take a bite.

“Thanks,” he says, taking a forkful. The sweet tang of the fruit doesn’t compare to the sweetness in Ashton’s expression. Michael gets distracted by the pleased noise he makes at his own first bite and the way he licks his spoon after the last one, watching entranced until someone taps a microphone at the front, cutting the background music off abruptly.

“Before we get the party portion of the evening started, I want to make a few more quick announcements,” the president of the company says. He continues to prattle about numbers and figures that Michael can’t follow without them written out in front of him, but he understands as well as everyone else what “winter bonus” and the amount that come after it means.

“Are you going to use that on my Christmas present?” Ashton whispers, leaning close to speak into his ear.

“Shut up,” Michael says, elbowing him. “Maybe I’ll use it to get away from Luke and Cal for a bit.”

“Lake trip part two, this time just me and you?” Ashton asks. Michael doesn’t let himself consider what it would be like to exist at that same cabin from the summer alone with Ashton, with no other people or endless summer fun to distract him. The central heating is awful, so they’d probably spend a lot of time by the fireplace, possibly getting cozy under a blanket. They’d be able to go skating on the lake near shore, maybe after a late brunch. Ashton might sleep in for once in his life. Michael would love to be sleeping in the same bed instead of confined to one of the other rooms, cold and alone.

He’s not considering it. Instead he smiles, shakes his head, and gently pushes Ashton away, trying to refocus on what the president is saying rather than the man next to him.

“The raffle will take place at the end of the night, so be sure to stick around if you want a chance at any of the gift baskets or certificates. We have a beautiful backdrop for photographs in the back corner if you’d like a memory from the night, and leftovers from the buffet are now open. We’re lucky enough to be joined by one of Minneapolis’s fantastic live bands for the dancing portion of the evening, so please enjoy yourselves! Take time to celebrate, enjoy each other’s company, and make the most of this beautiful night. Here’s to many more like it!”

Michael applauds politely along with everyone else, sipping his water while he watches the band set up. Based on the instrumentation, he has absolutely no idea what genre of music they’ll be playing. The only thing that makes sense is the piano and vocalist, but there are also two electric guitars, a drummer, an upright bass, a cellist, a saxophone, and a trumpet. The singer introduces them as Eds and the Airplanes, then they launch into something between 1940’s big band and modern bubblegum pop. Somehow, everyone in the room seems to be in favor of it.

“Huh,” Michael says.

“I know these guys,” Ashton says. “They recorded with us in October.”

“Oh, so you can tell us that but you can’t say who else records with you?”

“They tagged us on Instagram,” Ashton says. “They don’t care if anyone knows what they’re up to. Besides, their manager loves me. It’s fine.”

“Must not love you that much if you’ve never told me about the band.”

Ashton shrugs, but before he can elaborate Harry is there, tapping them both excitedly on the arm.

“Let’s go dance!” he says. “Lou can teach you how to swing dance if you want. I think you can cha-cha to this song.” He does a quick few steps in place on beat, then smiles.

“You can cha-cha to it,” Louis says, appearing over Harry’s shoulder, “but that doesn’t mean that you should. Swing is the way to go here.”

“We’ve taken ballroom dancing classes,” Harry says, pleased. “Come on! Alexis said she’d only get up and dance if you two do, and if Alexis does it the rest of the department will.”

Michael will take every opportunity to push Alexis out of her comfort zone, so he gets up and pulls Ashton with him. There are a few other people doing some semblance of dancing on the outskirts of the dance floor space, mostly older couples, but as soon as Louis and Harry step onto it everything livens up, Louis twirling Harry around and then both of them move around the floor for a few seconds before Louis breaks their hold and rounds on the group.

“Okay, pair up! One of you has to be the lead, aka me, and the other gets to be the follow, aka Harry. Ready?”

“I’ll lead. Good rhythm,” Ashton says, intently watching Louis and trying to mimic his position. He takes Michael’s hand and puts a tentative hand on his waist. Michael does his best to focus and follow the intense three minute crash course that follows without stepping on Ashton’s toes. Ashton catches on right away, and Michael finds it easy to follow him once he gets the basic step down.

“Think you’ve got it?” Louis asks when the next song starts, something around the same tempo and equally as peppy.

“Hell yeah,” Ashton says. He starts the basic step, then twirls Michael and get him to move his feet.

“I think you’re enjoying this too much,” Michael says. He’s led in another spin, Ashton switching hands and Michael trying to remember which one he needs to grab to set them back to rights.

“No such thing,” Ashton replies. “I get to listen to music, be close to you, get the heart rate up a bit… what’s not to enjoy?”

“There are other ways to achieve all of that,” Michael says. Ashton wiggles his eyebrows, and Michael laughs and stumbles over the next few steps. They wait a few bars, then start again in rhythm, four steps with and around each other, Ashton tugging Michael across his body in circles, spinning him out only to pull him back in again.

“Maybe we should go ballroom dancing,” Ashton says. “This is fun. Harry and Louis might have the right idea.”

“I wasn’t expecting dancing tonight,” Michael says, “but I do think we’re the best-looking couple on this dancefloor.”

“Want to try a lift? Dirty Dancing style?”

Michael laughs so hard at the image that they have to pause in their dance, and by the time he recovers the song has ended and transitioned into something slower.

“Come on,” Michael says, leading Ashton back to the edge where the rest of his coworkers have congregated. They pass Harry and Louis on the way, both of them locked in a different style of dance to match the new tempo. Harry winks at him when they catch eyes.

“You didn’t tell us he could dance,” Alexis says to Michael.

“I’m a man of many talents,” Ashton says. “Michael can’t be expected to remember all of them.”

“He’s humble, too,” Michael says.

"Ashton Irwin, I thought that was you!"

Michael turns to find an unfamiliar woman approaching. Her hair is dyed with blues, greens, and yellows, a mixture that's both artistic and striking, especially when paired with the tight black dress she's wearing. She's pretty, with dark lipstick and a gold necklace drawing attention to her bust. If Michael didn't have the most beautiful person in the room next to him, he probably would give her a double take.

"Ashley!" Ashton says, immediately sweeping her into a hug.

"Can’t say I expected to see you here," she says.

"Me neither! I didn't realize your band would be playing tonight," he says. "Guys, this is my friend Ashley. She manages Eds and the Airplanes. We met when she booked our studio a couple months ago."

"Met, went on two dates, became friends instead, you know how it goes," Ashley says.

Michael's heart plummets, then completely stops when he sees the panicked expression on Ashton's face.

"Dates?" Alexis asks carefully. "When was this?"

"Summer," Ashton says quickly. Ashley frowns. "Back in the summer. June, I think. Before I started dating Michael, obviously."

"Dating Michael?" Ashley asks. "When the fuck did that happen, because it sure wasn't while my band was recording."

Oh holy shit. Their entire story is going to get blown apart because Ashton went on some dates with this incredibly attractive, music-smart woman, dates that Michael had no idea about despite theoretically being one of Ashton's best friends. They've seen each other consistently each week since college. When did Ashton have time to sneak around on dates? More importantly, why would he keep this from Michael?

Ashton is floundering for an explanation. Michael can't hear any of his attempts over the ringing in his ears.

"I have to--I have to use the bathroom," he says. He's leaving before anyone has a chance to try to stop him, weaving in between the tables as fast as he can without breaking out into a full-on sprint.

Everyone is going to know that he lied. Even if Ashton manages to charm his way through a salvageable story, why would anyone believe that Ashton would go for someone like him if Ashley is right there? If they didn't work out, why would he and Ashton be able to make it a full five months?

He pushes open the bathroom door, thankful that all of the stalls look empty. It's the type of fancy bathroom with a small armchair in the corner, and he sinks into it, cradling his head in his hands.

Fuck. What if everyone thinks Ashton is a cheater? What other reason would his coworkers have for Ashton's panic and the way Michael ran away? Why else wouldn't Michael know who Ashley is, if her relationship with Ashton was completely innocent?

Why didn't Ashton tell him about her?

The door opens again and Michael jumps.

"Michael?" Harry asks, eyebrows drawn together in concern. "What's wrong? I saw you leave the dance floor pretty quickly."

"I--"

He lets out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair then rubbing at his face, hoping desperately that Harry isn't going to laugh at him.

The cat's out of the bag, anyway. There isn't any way for them to recover from this.

"Ashton's not my boyfriend," he says.

Harry shuffles closer and crouches down by Michael's chair.

"He's not?" he asks slowly. Michael shakes his head.

"I don't have a boyfriend. I never have. I just didn't want to correct you guys when you all thought I did. I don't know, I guess it was nice to pretend for a bit, but everyone was so eager to meet him here, so I asked Ashton to fake it with me."

Harry hums.

"There's a woman here he went on some dates with. I didn't know about them, but they didn't meet until October, and I think she just accidentally busted the whole thing."

Harry hums again. He’s frowning, mouth turned down in a way that makes Michael scared that he just lost his best work friend.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have lied. This is probably just karma.”

“It’s okay,” Harry says. He stands, then leans against the arm of Michael’s chair, putting an arm around his shoulders. “If it makes you feel better, you had me fooled.”

Michael laughs mirthlessly.

“That’s because I’ve been in love with him for years.”

“Oh, Michael,” he says, squeezing him tighter.

“Yep,” he says, popping the last consonant. “Haven’t had time to get a real boyfriend when I’m hung up on him.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry says. There’s nothing else to say.

“And the worst thing is,” he starts, words falling unbidden now that he’s let himself speak, “now that I met her it’s like, how could I compare? I mean, she’s beautiful, and her hair is so gorgeous and fun and mine’s been dull and blonde for so long because otherwise it’ll fall out, and she obviously knows a lot about music while I’ve barely picked up my guitar in the past few weeks and just--”

He sighs and stands, shrugging off Harry’s hands and heading towards the sinks. His hair is a bit messy, resistant to his efforts to comb through it.

“Nothing anyone can do,” he says. “I can’t hide in the bathroom all night. Do you think Alexis and the others are going to hate me?”

“No,” Harry says. “They might think it’s weird for a little bit, though.”

Michael focuses on his hair again, trying to stop the subtle shake in his hands. He and Ashton can just leave early, photo-ops and the raffle be damned. Michael can work around awkwardness, but if that’s all that this night is going to turn into he’d rather be back home playing video games.

The door opens again. Michael tenses, only to see in the mirror that it’s not some stranger or his boss, but Ashton.

“Hey,” Ashton says. He looks at Harry and nods, then turns back to Michael. “You okay?”

“Fine,” he says, messing with the knobs on the sink. “What’s happening out there?”

Ashton glances at Harry again.

“Do you two need a minute?” he asks. Ashton nods, but Harry waits until Michael does too before he leaves.

“I, uh, had to tell Ashley about what’s going on, but I don’t think anyone else knows. Everything is okay.”

“Really?” Michael asks, turning finally. “How did you talk your way out of that one?”

Ashton shrugs. “I’m good with words. Ashley caught on pretty quickly, too.”

"Did you really date her?" he asks before he can stop himself. Ashton sighs.

"We went on a few dates, yes. Two of them. Well, more like one and a half before we decided we were better suited as friends."

"Oh," Michael says. "Why? She seems nice and fun. She obviously likes music, and she's pretty. You'd think you two would be a good match."

"Well, we aren't," Ashton says.

"Okay," Michael says. Ashton nods once. It feels weird and tense, an unusual dynamic for them that Michael doesn't know how to fix. "Sorry, I guess."

"Don't be," Ashton says. "I never should have started it. It's a good thing it ended where it did."

"Why?"

Ashton sighs, coming over by the sinks to lean against the counter. The bathroom isn't that large, but Michael hadn't realized how far away he felt before he had him within arm's reach.

"I... was just using her, I think. I was hung up on someone else and thought that if I dated her, I'd be able to get over it. That wasn't fair to either of us. She caught on and said we should be friends instead."

Michael's breath catches in his throat. Ashton has been doing his own pining, going so far as to try to date other people to get over this mystery person, and he's been doing all of it without Michael's knowledge.

"Why didn't you tell me any of this?" he asks, hoping that it doesn't sound hurt. "I didn't even know you liked anyone. I could've tried to help."

Ashton takes a breath, tracing the marble pattern on the countertop with his finger for a long moment, close to where Michael is resting his own fingers. He wants to reach out and tie their hands together, but Ashton looks up at him before he can. There's something heavy in his gaze that makes Michael feel like whatever he says next could break him if neither of them are careful. Still, he leans closer, trying to let Ashton know that he's listening. He's always listening to him.

"The person I was hung up on... or, well, am still hung up on, I suppose, he--"

The door opens again and both of them spring back, breaking their bubble like they're school kids caught skipping class to make out in the bathroom. Michael's cheeks flame, but the man who enters doesn't spare them a glance, headed straight to a stall.

"We should rejoin the party," Ashton says. Michael can't stop the disappointment that fills him, despite knowing that Ashton is right. Besides, public restrooms aren't exactly the most pleasant hangout, not even one fancy enough for an armchair in the corner and little vials of lotion by the sinks.

"Okay," he says. "Everything's good?"

"Everything's good," Ashton replies. Michael nods and squares his shoulders, following Ashton out of the bathroom and back into the bustle of the party. The band is still playing at the front, but Michael drags his feet, pausing and tugging Ashton with him towards the beverages to get another drink of water. Ashley intercepts them on the way over.

"Michael? Hey," she says. "I'm sorry about what happened back there. I obviously had no clue what you two were doing and I didn't mean to throw a wrench in things. I think we covered it pretty well, though. You're secret's still safe."

She winks, charm oozing out of her in a way that partially reminds him of Ashton. Once again, he wonders why they didn't work out. Whoever Ashton likes must be pretty special.

He pushes the thought away. There's no use getting upset over it when he still has to put on a show of being happy for the rest of the night. He has to at least be able to fake it, and that means distracting himself until he can get home and wallow.

"It's okay," he says. "You didn’t know. It's not like you could’ve guessed what was happening."

Ashley laughs. "You're right about that. Still, I support it. You two make a good pair."

Michael glances at Ashton, who looks like he's either trying to psychically communicate with Ashley or gut her. Michael clears his throat, trying not to wonder who Ashton wishes he were a pair with, instead.

"Thanks," he says.

"Well, I need to get back to the band in case they need me. I'm sure I'll see you both sometime later."

"Yeah, later," Michael says.

"See you, Ash," Ashton adds. Ashley smiles and gives them both a small wave with her fingers as she turns. Michael watches her walk away.

“Come on,” he says eventually. “I want some water.”

The band transitions to another slower song, something jazzy featuring the piano and upright bass. Ashton puts a hand near the base of Michael’s spine as they walk, finally getting little plastic cups of water and wandering to an empty space to sip it.

“This isn’t how I expected the evening to go,” Ashton says. Michael snorts.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s not you,” Ashton says. “But I do think we need to raise your spirits a bit. It’s your holiday work party! You’re with friends, enjoying live music and getting to dress up. Come dance with me again.”

“You think very highly of your dancing skills,” Michael says. “Don’t let it go to your head. You’re no Fred Astaire.”

“I’m impressed you know who that is,” Ashton says, downing the rest of his water and throwing it in a nearby trash bin. Michael makes an affronted noise that goes ignored. “Regardless of you insulting my dancing, it was making you smile earlier. Come on. You can’t let one false alarm ruin your night. Dance a few songs with me, then we can take ridiculous pictures with their winter backdrop and wait for the raffle before heading back out into the snow.”

“I don’t want you to step on my toes,” Michael says.

“I promise I won’t,” Ashton pleads. “Please?”

Ashton peers at him earnestly, eyes soft. He starts to smile, knowing that Michael is going to cave against his best attempts, and when he takes Michael's hand and starts to walk towards the dance floor, Michael unsticks his feet and follows him.

"You're lucky I like you," Michael says. He tries to sound begrudging, but it probably doesn't work. Ashton can read him too well.

"I am," Ashton says. He stops abruptly, making Michael run into him, and turns. "Seriously. I'm lucky to have you in any way you let me. You're so wonderful, and I'm grateful that I can call you one of my best friends."

Ashton brings their hands up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of Michael's palm, watching his reaction through his lashes. Something indescribable lodges itself in Michael's throat. For a moment, he wonders if he can tell Ashton all of the ways he wants him without messing everything up.

"Come on," Ashton says, breaking the moment. "Let's dance."

Another slow jazzy song is playing when they make their way to the floor, and they join other couples in an embrace. Ashton keeps their hands together but slides a gentle hand around his waist to his lower back, resting heavily there and pulling them closer together. Michael finds a spot for his hand on Ashton's shoulder, but with how close they're standing it's more like a hug than anything else. Ashton starts them in a gentle sway.

"Hey," Ashton murmurs, close enough that Michael feels his breath puff against his cheek. It reminds him of the moment after Ashton kissed his cheek on his couch this afternoon, when Michael thought he might try to kiss him on the lips next.

"Yeah?"

"Harry and Louis are making out in the corner. It's very unfitting for a work function."

"What?" he asks. Ashton turns them so he can see, and sure enough his eyes find Harry's floral suit near the edge of the room, the man himself locking lips with his husband.

"Huh," he says. "I hope our manager sees them and says something about it. You'd think after being married for a few years they'd have calmed down."

"It's kind of cute," Ashton says. "It's nice that they're still that in love with each other."

"I guess," Michael says. "I don't know. I don't think I'd want to be that gushy with someone, you know? I don't need to always be touching or making out to know that we like each other, hopefully. I don't know if I'd enjoy that, especially somewhere as public as this."

"What would you enjoy, then?" Ashton asks. Michael shrugs.

"What we're doing here, I think. It's nice, but not suffocating. We're enjoying each other's company and all, but what would be the point of even going out if we were going to be hanging off each other the entire time? We could just do that at home."

"I thought you'd be a bit more cuddly."

Michael will be the first to admit that he loves a lot of physical contact, and back in college he probably would have said he wanted it all the time. He would love to show off his partner and relationship as much as possible. Now, though, it's a bit different. Ashton doesn't hang off people as much as the rest of them do, but that's okay. Michael has learned to read him over the years, and there's something to be said about subtle glances and soft words kept between just the two of them, tucked close to Michael's heart, things Michael has stopped mentioning in his lovesick laments to Calum and Luke. Some things are made more special when they're only shared between two people.

"In private, yes. Of course I'd want to be as close as possible to you. But I don't really want everyone else seeing that, I guess. I want some things to be just for us."

"I understand. I like that better, too." Ashton clears his throat. "Theoretically."

"Theoretically," Michael says, thankful that his face is partially hidden from the angle that they're dancing.

That's the type of relationship he would want with Ashton. It's been too long since he thought about what he would want in a relationship with anyone else. It could be different, but it certainly wouldn't be better.

"I hope you get that," Ashton says suddenly. "I know we're pretending now because you didn't want to tell your coworkers that you don't have anyone, but I hope you find someone soon. I want you to be happy."

"You too," Michael says. It’s not a lie, even if it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He's not going to get a happy relationship until he gets over Ashton, and he's already spent so many years liking him that he doesn't know how to stop.

Ashton hums. Michael thinks he might understand, given his own secret pining that he's been doing. He wants to ask again why Ashton didn't tell him. He doesn't know if he's ready for the answer.

The song ends, transitioning to another upbeat number that has younger people jumping and older people shuffling along together. Ashton suddenly swings Michael out in another twirl, and then they're back to swing dancing, two steps and a ball-change keeping them on beat.

"Warn a guy next time," he says when he comes back to him.

"Spin incoming," Ashton says, sending him right back into another twirl. Michael laughs through it, and Ashton's responding smile is the best thing Michael has seen all night.

-/-

Michael ends up dancing with Ashton for the rest of the night, losing track of fast songs and slow ones with intermittent breaks to bother his friends and catch a breath until the band announces that it'll be their last one of the evening. It feels strange that Michael has spent so much time stressing over this night only for it to be nearly over. When the song finishes, Ashton dips him like they’re in a movie. Looking at him framed by the overhead lights, Michael can almost believe he has a halo.

They make their way back to the table they started at for the raffle, Michael sitting and Ashton making a detour to get water. Everyone in attendance got their name put in as part of the RVSP, but Michael doesn't even know half of the prizes. In reality, he's ready to stare at Ashton and trace individual strands of hair through his curls with his eyes rather than listen, memorizing every detail he can.

"Hey," Alexis says when he sits down. "You looked like you were having a good time."

"I was," he says. "Dancing is more fun than I thought, but don't tell Harry I said that."

“I already know,” Harry says. “You and Ashton should join us when we go dancing.”

Michael gives him his most sarcastic smile. Alexis studies his face, eyes looking for any signs of deceit in a way that makes him sit up straighter.

"Does he treat you well?" she asks. "Things were really weird once that Ashley girl showed up."

"He does," he says. "I promise."

Alexis continues her scrutiny, but she must be satisfied with her findings, because she nods.

"Good," she says. "I like him, but I like you more."

"Thanks," he says.

"What about me?" Harry asks. Alexis flips him off, and things at the table are back to normal by the time Ashton returns with two cups of water, one that he hands to Michael. The president taps the microphone again before Michael can properly thank him, so he elects for squeezing his hand and hopes it suffices. From Ashton's smile, it does.

The first few raffles are for various baskets following themes like movies, a taste of Italy, and art. Michael zones out as people he doesn't recognize get their names called (and sometimes butchered), thoughts wandering to his expectations of the night and what actually happened.

He and Ashton never got their picture taken with the backdrop. It's not the end of the world, but Michael wishes they had thought to do that. It may be fake, but it'd be the only couple's photo of them that Michael may get, and he'd like to remember some things about the night, like the feeling of dancing in Ashton’s arms and how radiant he looks.

For all of the fuss about PDA and mistletoe, they didn't have to contend with any of that, either. Michael's not sure if he's relieved or disappointed.

"Ashton Irwin!" the president calls. Michael startles as the rest of their table erupts in cheers.

“Huh,” Ashton says, standing. “I didn’t know I was included in this.”

“Go get your prize,” Harry says, shooing him forward. Michael watches him make his way to the front and come back with a basket.

“You can probably have half of this,” Ashton whispers to him, showing the basket. There are two mugs in it, but there’s also a lot of coffee, and Ashton doesn’t care about how fancy his caffeine is. He takes it black the majority of the time and uses it more as a tool to wake up than an enjoyable beverage. They ignore the rest of the raffles in favor of pawing through the basket, taking out items to pass around the table when the others ask about them. There’s some fancy hot cocoa mix that makes Ashton’s eyes light up, but the majority of it is coffee that Michael has to resist the urge to open up and smell. Knowing him, he’d make a mess.

Michael is so focused on the coffee that he barely registers the end of the party, the president’s words going in one ear and out the other until everyone starts standing and shuffling towards the door around him.

“Hey,” Alexis says. “You can’t leave until we take a picture. Dalmar wants one of the whole department.”

“I want one of us,” Harry says. They wait a minute to let some of the crowd clear out, then Michael is swept up in the tide heading towards the photo backdrop. There’s cotton on the ground to give the impression of snow, and one side has pine trees decked in gold and a starry landscape behind while the other has silver accents and a sparkly wire reindeer.

“Very thoughtful of them to coordinate a gold and a silver option, I assume so everyone can choose the backdrop that best matches their outfit,” Ashton says, voice low. Michael snickers.

Ashton joins the other plus-ones off to the side while Michael is corralled into a department picture, sandwiched between Alexis and Imani. Once Dalmar promises to email it out, Harry makes him stay for a picture with him and Alexis, then another one that includes their dates.

“Do you want one with just you two?” Harry asks him after. Michael glances at Ashton, then nods, handing his phone over. He hasn’t checked it all night, and there are a few messages from both Calum and Luke that he’ll probably ignore until morning.

Ashton puts an arm around his waist for probably the last time tonight and decides to use the privilege for evil, jabbing him in the side and making him squirm and involuntarily laugh.

“I hate you,” he says.

“No you don’t,” Ashton responds cheekily. Michael turns back to where Harry already has the camera up.

“Say cheese,” he says. Michael smiles. Harry gets a few shots in before Ashton presses a kiss to his cheek. Michael hopes he doesn’t look too startled before he starts smiling again, letting himself relish in the moment.

“Got any good ones?” Ashton asks once he pulls away.

“Yeah, I think so,” Harry says.

“Ashton,” Ashley calls, appearing in the crowd and waving him over. He glances back at Michael.

“One moment,” he says, then heads towards her.

“So,” Harry says casually, handing over Michael’s phone. “There’s really nothing going on with you two?”

Michael lets his gaze land on Ashton, locked in what looks to be a serious conversation with Ashley. She gestures and he makes a face that she returns, but he can’t tell what they’re discussing.

“No, not on his end. He has someone else he’s after.”

“Someone who isn’t you?”

Michael shrugs. “He didn’t say. There’s no way, though. I think I’ve used up all my luck for the night. Karma says nothing else good can happen now that the lie worked.”

“It’s Christmastime, Michael,” Harry says. “Maybe you’ll get a miracle.”

Ashton hugs Ashley. She says something into his ear and he nods. Michael sighs and forces himself to turn back to Harry, who is still looking at him with his head tilted like a puppy.

“He cares about you a lot; it's been obvious to all of us here tonight. Don't discount that just because you're scared. Maybe it's time to tell him," Harry says.

"I've been doing this for years," Michael reminds him. "It's never time."

"Hey," Ashton says, reappearing. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," Michael says. "See you later, Harry. Tell Alexis I say goodbye, too."

"Good luck, Michael. Remember, Christmas miracles!"

Michael gives him a tight smile and starts towards the coat check. They killed enough time with the pictures that they don't have to wait in line too long before they're bundled up and ready to leave.

"What did Harry mean about Christmas miracles?" Ashton asks, putting on his gloves.

"Nothing," Michael says. "He's just being optimistic. What did Ashley want to say to you?"

"Oh, you know," Ashton says. "Just that it was good to see each other and finally meet you."

"Meet me?" Michael asks. "She didn't even talk to me. Why would she want to meet me, anyway? I'm just an auditor."

"You're not just anything. Besides, I've probably talked about you a lot. Come on. Time to brave the cold."

Michael frowns at the abrupt change, but Ashton is already heading towards the entrance, so he scrambles to catch up.

A gust of wind greets then outside, thick snow swirling in the air around them. Michael braces himself against it, huddling down in his coat and shoving his hands in his pockets. Ashton leans close, flexing his fingers where he's gripping the handle of the basket, and they shuffle down the sidewalk as one. Once Michael gets to the car, he immediately turns on the defroster and heat, hating the first few minutes of cold air until the car warms up properly. Ashton grabs the scraper from the back before Michael can, brushing snow off the front windshield and scraping away the frost that had gathered in the time they were at the party. When he gets to the driver-side window, he makes funny faces at Michael while clearing it off. It warms him more than the heater does.

"Thanks," Michael says once he's done. "I hate scraping.”

"I know," Ashton says, brushing snow off of his coat where it had gathered on his shoulders. "Hey, I got a gift card in my basket. Let's swing by before you drop me off."

"It's a little late for coffee," Michael says.

"This place is open until midnight, and they have great hot chocolate. Come on. You got me a free meal tonight, so let me give you a free late-night cocoa."

"Fine," Michael says, as if he wasn't going to cave as soon as Ashton suggested it, as if he himself wouldn't mind prolonging their time together if it's just the two of them. "Put the address in. The roads aren't that bad yet."

-/-

The coffee shop is a small place on a corner, one of the only shops still lit up at 9:30 at night. Snow has gathered on the window ledges and the corners are blocked by frost, but warm light and swashes of browns and yellows still spill out, giving the entire building an inviting atmosphere. Ashton holds the door for him on the way in, the bell above the door tinkling a greeting with the welcome rush of heated air.

The inside is just as cozy as Michael's first impressions suggested. A few mismatched tables are scattered around the room with wooden chairs tucked against them, but it's the armchairs near the back that make him smile, big padded things arranged around a crackling fireplace that would probably swallow him if he sat down in them. A bookshelf sits off to the side, old paperbacks and worn hardcovers nestled amongst other trinkets on warped wooden shelves, sinking under the weight of the years. A Christmas tree stands in the corner, what looks like homemade ornaments adoring it and a few boxes in shiny wrapping paper underneath. Calm Christmas music plays faintly over the speakers, and a barista calls out from where she is wiping down a table that she'll be with them in a moment.

"I've never been here before," Michael says.

"If you lived with me instead of out in a suburb, you would've by now," Ashton says, brushing snow off of Michael’s shoulder. "It's one of my favorite places to go once winter hits. I don't care for coffee, but I love everything else about the place. It's a great source of inspiration and relaxation."

"Of course it is," Michael says fondly. "Every place is a source of inspiration for you. You probably found inspiration at my work party."

"Maybe that was more about the company than the location," Ashton says.

"I guess there were a lot of interesting people there, like Ashley. You can probably get some material from Harry and Louis, too."

Ashton stares at him for a long moment.

"Are you being deliberately obtuse as a way to let me down? Or do you really not know yet?"

"Hi, what can I get you?" the barista asks. Michael is getting really sick of people interrupting Ashton when he's about to tell him something.

Ashton orders two small hot chocolates, one with whip and one without, then leads Michael to a table in the back corner. It's an odd choice when they have the entire shop to themselves, but Michael doesn't fight it. He's too distracted by the tantalizing smell of the hot cocoa and the mountain of whip on top of it, so much so that he burns his tongue on the first sip.

"Careful," Ashton laughs. He reaches forward and swipes the whip right off Michael's nose, popping it into his mouth. Michael's brain shuts down and takes its sweet time restarting, staring at Ashton gently blow on his own cocoa and take a much more cautious sip.

"So," Ashton says. "I had an alternative motive for getting you to come here tonight."

"Is this payback for making you come to the party with me? Are you going to ask me for a favor?"

"Not a favor," Ashton says. "Well, I suppose you could come to the studio's New Years Eve party with me, if you wanted."

"I was already planning on going," Michael says. I've been there every year since you opened. I wasn't going to miss it now."

"See, this is what I was talking about with you being deliberately obtuse," Ashton says. "Do you want to go with me? As my date?"

Michael frowns.

“Did you tell everyone you have a secret boyfriend?”

Ashton sighs and cradles his head in his hands. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you.”

“Say what?” Michael implores. “Is it too much for you to stop being so cryptic and just tell me what you want me to understand?”

“Michael, I really, really like you. Romantically. I have for a long time. I want to know if you’ll go on a date with me.”

“What the fuck?” Michael asks. Ashton’s face crumples. “No, not like--how long? Because I’ve been in love with you since college!”

“What?” Ashton blinks. “I thought… I mean, I’d hoped, and there were moments, but I didn’t realize it had been that long for you.” He smiles, letting it grow on his face until it’s overwhelming. Michael mirrors it. “Holy shit. This is great!”

Michael laughs.

“Do you really like me?”

“Yes, Michael. Of course I do. I knew I eventually would as soon as I met you, I just put it off for as long as I could. You’re magnetic. It was inevitable.”

Michael doesn’t know what to do with the joy bubbling up in him, threatening to overflow like a volcano with all of the heat of one.

“So, Michael Clifford, want to be my date to the Superbloom New Year’s party? And my boyfriend? My real one, in case that somehow wasn’t clear by now.”

“Yes! Please, yes, I would love to,” Michael says.

“Good,” Ashton says. “But I do have one more confession to make. I still haven’t told you why I wanted to come here right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look up,” Ashton says, pointing above their heads. Michael follows his directions and is met with a small sprig of green leaves with tiny white flowers hanging from the ceiling. “We never did get a mistletoe kiss, which was extremely disappointing to me. Will you indulge me now?”

Michael turns back to him, seeing hope shining in his eyes, and nods a little too eagerly if the way Ashton giggles at him is any indication.

“Alright,” Ashton says, standing. “Come on. I’m not about to make you lean over the table.”

He takes Michael’s hands, tugging him to standing.

“I’m weirdly nervous,” Michael confesses once they’re face to face.

“Don’t be,” Ashton says, taking a step forward. “If it’s bad, we’ll just try again. I have the feeling I’ll be kissing you a lot in the future.”

“Yeah,” Michael breathes.

“Ready?” Ashton asks, eyes flicking down to Michael’s lips and then back up. Instead of answering, Michael leans in, Ashton meeting him halfway in the best kiss Michael has ever had. In the grand scheme of things, it’s utterly unremarkable, but to Michael it’s everything: the feeling of his cold hands enveloped by Ashton’s, the calm atmosphere of the coffee shop they’re in, the taste of hot chocolate still on Ashton’s lips, and the satisfaction of finally, after years, knowing what this sensation is like all melts together to form something that feels like complete and utter happiness.

Ashton drops their hands so he can cup Michael’s jaw and kisses him again, and then again, and then they stand there smiling at each other until Michael finally starts giggling.

“Our hot chocolate is probably getting cold,” he says.

“God, I love you,” Ashton replies. Michael knows that he’s blushing, but for once it’s not out of embarrassment or the cold outside. He’s never felt this level of joyful peace.

Ashton kisses him once more, quickly, before he finally goes back to his seat. Michael joins him, taking a sip of his drink. He can’t help but think that Ashton’s homemade cocoa is better.

The man in question reaches out and takes one of his hands, holding it across the table and beaming, showing off his dimples, and Michael once again can’t resist smiling back.

Maybe Harry is right. Karma stands no chance against a Christmas miracle.

#my writing #mashton #5sos fanfic #ficmas 2020

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