#fluffy sweater

[fluffyviktoriya]

How are you guys? ♥️

[mohairmaster]

Mohaireena: Countdown to X-mas

[smotherstories]

The girls are out shopping again.

[fluffyfaza]

Pre-Christmas Party with Friends

On the eve of Christmas, I invite all my friends to a party in my house on the lake shore. The program will be eventful. Pleasant communication, wine, whiskey, cognac, champagne, grill and of course dancing! Anderii @anderii, Gigi @gigiprinceton, Stella @stellablairsworld, Burning @burningpoisonroaster have already arrived.

We didn't even have time to set the table when we saw @ai-satin-chic on the other side of the lake Indeed, the road to my house was difficult and it was easy to get lost. So we got on a boat and picked up @ai-satin-chic.

I'm very glad to see you all! The doors of my house are always open to all friends!

[kirby0strombolli]

★彡[ʙᴇɴ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴇᴇᴋ - ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ]彡★

(p1)

Summary: Ben is in love with his best friend's sister. But he can't be with her like that. Word count: Just under 1.3k !! Warnings: Mentions of smoking, Light cursing! Just pure fluff :) A/n: Been wanting to write for Ben for a while! There are barely any Ben of the week fics!!

As she stumbled out of the bar, her laughter flickered like a neon sign.

Her flushed cheeks and lopsided smile lit up when her eyes met mine, as if she’d found what she’d been searching for.

“C’mon, let’s get you home,” I sighed, stepping closer and offering her my arm.

“No, I can’t drive!” she protested, throwing her hands up, only to lose her balance and fall right into my open arms.

I looked down at her, a small smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. Then, with an unimpressed raise of my eyebrow, I said, “I wasn’t asking you to.”

She squinted at me with mock seriousness, her head tilting slightly. “I’m not really drunk. I never get that… fucked up!” Her words tumbled over each other, betraying her claim.

“Uh-huh." I shrugged off my coat and gently draped it over her shoulders, the weight of it drawing a soft hum from her.

“I’m serious! I’m so sober!” she giggled, leaning into me with all the grace of a baby deer. Her head rested on my shoulder for a moment, and I felt her breath hitch before she exhaled softly, content.

Her fingers clutched at the edges of the coat, pulling it tighter around herself. “You’re warm,” she murmured, her voice quieter now, her defenses melting in the cool night air.

♪ I love to see you shine in the night

Like the diamond you are ♪

I subtly glanced down at her, trying to ignore the way her face glowed under the streetlight, soft and perfect, like it was carved just to make me lose my mind.

There she was, wrapped in my coat, her head resting lightly on my shoulder as we walked. Her warmth seeped through the fabric, and I was doing everything I could to ignore the way it made me feel.

Out of nowhere, she stopped and turned toward me. Before I could say anything, her arms wrapped around me, pulling me into a warm, unexpected hug.

I froze, my arms hovering awkwardly at my sides. What was she doing? Did she even know what she was doing?

“Thank you,” she mumbled against my chest, her voice muffled but sincere.

♪ Just hold me in the dark ♪

Slowly, cautiously, I let my arms fold around her, holding her close. It felt right—too right—and that’s what made it so wrong. She wasn’t just anyone; she was his sister. My best friend’s sister.

The unspoken rule had always been clear: stay away from her. She was off-limits, untouchable, someone I wasn’t even supposed to think about like this. But as I held her now, her warmth seeping into me, all I could think was how impossible it was to let go.

♪ No one’s gotta know what we doHit me up when you’re bored ♪

What if we didn’t tell anyone?

What if we didn’t have to?

The thought hit me like a whisper in the back of my mind, quiet but insistent. Memories stirred—ones I’d tried to forget but couldn’t.

The way she’d leaned in close during movie nights, her laughter brushing against my ear, making my pulse race. The late-night talks when everyone else was asleep, her voice soft, her eyes holding something unspoken.

And that time she’d reached out to fix my hair, her fingers grazing my forehead, lingering just a second too long.

I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t want her. She was drunk. But with her in my arms now, it felt like the only thing I’d ever wanted.

Her breath was slow, steady, like she was just as caught in the moment as I was. Then, she pulled away slightly, her eyes wide and innocent, like she had no idea how much she was driving me crazy. 

Her lashes fluttered as she looked up at me, her face glowing softly in the streetlight. She was so damn pretty, the kind of pretty that made my heart pound in my chest and my hands feel shaky.

Her eyes drifted from mine, down to my lips, and I felt the pull of temptation shoot through me. God, I could kiss her right now.

"Ben?" she whispered, her voice soft and almost fragile, as if she knew what was on my mind.

She tilted her head slightly, her lips parting just enough for me to see the faintest hint of a smile.

The moment felt like it was stretching on forever, and I could already feel myself leaning in, my breath hitching. But before I could make the move, a voice broke through the thick air between us.

“Need a ride back, Ben?”

I flinched, my heart pounding even harder. Curtis. My best friend. My fucking roommate.

Her brother.

He stood there, eyebrow raised, a smirk tugging at his lips. His gaze flicked between us, suspicion clear in his eyes. Shit.

That look should have been enough to stop me, to remind me why I couldn’t do this—why he would kill me if he ever found out. But in that moment, it didn’t matter.

I quickly looked back at her, just as she pulled away, her expression unreadable but soft. She didn’t say anything, but I could see the question in her eyes—What now?

Curtis broke the tension with a laugh. “What, you two gonna stand out here all night or are you gonna get in?”

I hesitated, the words caught in my throat. Saying yes would be awkward—he’d definitely notice. But if I said no, I’d be stuck walking back in the freezing cold, alone. I glanced at her one last time, guilt flooding my chest.

She smiled softly, like she understood. It was too dangerous. But damn, I wanted to give in.

I let go of her, the coldness settling in as I turned to Curtis. “Nah, I’m good,” I shrugged, trying to sound casual. “I need to be somewhere.”

Curtis raised an eyebrow but didn’t push it. I turned back to her, giving her a tight smile. “Bye,” I said too quietly, watching her slide into the car. My stomach twisted.

As the car pulled away, I shoved my hands into my pockets and sighed, the cold air stinging my skin. My mind was racing. What just happened?

I couldn’t stop thinking about her—how she felt in my arms, the way she looked at me. Her smile made me feel like I could do anything, even though I knew it was wrong.

Then it started to rain. Hard. Of course, it did. The universe had perfect timing when it came to ruining my mood.

I kicked at the ground, irritated, my feet splashing through puddles as I walked. I couldn’t stop replaying the look she gave me. I should’ve kissed her.

I wanted to kiss her. I couldn’t keep pretending like I didn’t feel this pull towards her, no matter how wrong it felt.

I pulled out a blunt from my jacket, lighting it up without even thinking. Maybe it was a stupid move, but I didn’t care. I needed something to numb the frustration, the confusion. 

The smoke filled my lungs, and for a moment, everything felt hazy. The rain poured harder, but I didn’t care. I kept walking, letting the buzz take over, the cold now just a distant thing.

taglist: @lolastrniolo @sturniololuv08 @chrislilcumslvt @lonleyheartsclub @shadowthesim

(lmk if you wanna be added!)

sneaky part 2 coming up...

[moiyablochki]

[moh-ai-r]

[aventurineswife]

Is it getting sent? Its not? Just trying in case. I sent the same thing twice because i thought it didnt send..my internet is just bad, anyways in case it wasnt sent, in case you want an idea, my idea is to knit a sweater to them while they are on a work trip and their reaction to that once they are back.

“Both your hands in the hole of my sweater” | Part 1

Summary: While your partner is away on a work trip, you, as their beloved partner, spent the time knitting them a sweater. Upon their return, they’re met with the surprise of a handmade gift.

Tags: Fluff, Domestic Bliss, Sweet Gestures, Knitting, Work Trip, Homecoming, Surprise Gift, Cozy Moments, Light Romance.

A/N: DON'T WORRY ANON!! I GOT YOUR REQUEST AND IT HAPPENS SOMETIMES!😭 BUT TY FOR THE REQUEST, ITS SO CUTEE!! 🤭 HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!🫶 KEEP THEM COMING!! I LOVE WRITING AND READING ABOUT THEM🤭

Part 2, Part 3

Blade

When Blade returned, he found a neatly wrapped box on the table, a card with his name written in elegant strokes beside it. He stared at it for a while, the ordinary sight feeling so foreign in his chaos-filled world. Carefully, he picked up the card, reading your short, heartfelt note.

Inside, folded with care, was a dark sweater, thick and soft to the touch, the colors subtly resembling the night sky. His fingers brushed over the stitches, a strange warmth spreading through him as he realized you'd made this by hand, stitch by careful stitch.

Later, when you found him, he was wearing the sweater, silent but eyes warm. "You don’t… have to keep doing things like this." he murmured, almost unsure how to express the mix of comfort and gratitude he felt.

But you only smiled, reaching to fix the collar. "I want to." Blade looked down, hiding a small, softened smile. In that moment, something in him felt less fractured.

Sampo Koski

Sampo was a lot of things, but genuinely speechless wasn’t usually one of them. When he saw the sweater, though, his usual charm faltered for a moment.

“Ohhh, look at this!” He held it up, the color and style fitting his flair perfectly. “Did you really make this? Just for me? You sure you weren’t thinking of another guy?” he teased, winking, but there was an unusual warmth in his tone.

“Try it on, Sampo.” you insisted, playfully rolling your eyes.

He did, grinning widely as he adjusted it. "Well, look at me, all cozy and stylish! This is priceless! I’ll bet this sweater’s gonna get me some deals. And, hey, it even makes me look extra trustworthy!” He spun dramatically, though he couldn’t quite hide his flustered expression as he pulled you into a spontaneous hug. “Thanks, sunshine. Gotta admit, it feels nice knowing someone’s thinking of me.”

Gepard Landau

Gepard was more than surprised to find a package waiting for him when he returned from his post. Unwrapping it, he found a perfectly tailored sweater, every stitch immaculate and precise. He touched it, admiring the way the thick, warm material felt against his calloused hands.

When he saw you, he was already wearing it. “I… I can’t thank you enough for this,” he said, looking down slightly. "It must have taken you a long time."

“Not as long as you’re worth.” you said, smiling as he blushed.

He cleared his throat, his usually stoic face softening. “You know, we don’t… often have people who think of us like this,” he murmured, his voice a mix of appreciation and humility. “But I promise to keep this safe. And warm.”

Aventurine

Aventurine returned from his business trip a bit weary but still grinning. When he saw the sweater you’d left for him, he smirked, instantly recognizing the effort and thought that went into every fiber.

“Treasure, did you really make this for me? Oh, you’re a gambler with your time, aren’t you?” he teased, slipping the sweater on. He admired himself in the mirror, watching the way it fit just right, from the shoulders down to the sleeve length.

You watched as his fingers lightly traced the stitches. "Only for you.” you replied, enjoying his pleased expression.

He winked, slipping an arm around you. “I knew I made a winning investment choosing you.” With a chuckle, he whispered, “I’ll be showing off this masterpiece everywhere. It’s my lucky charm now.”

Sunday

Sunday returned home after the festival, exhausted yet tranquil. When he found the sweater waiting for him, neatly folded and smelling faintly of lavender, he was deeply touched. His fingers gently traced over the knitting, imagining you working on it alone, stitch by careful stitch.

When he finally slipped it on, he felt a warmth far beyond the wool’s soft embrace—a warmth he rarely felt, a moment of peace. "Thank you." he whispered, though he’d yet to see you.

Later, when you returned, he was still wearing it, his serene smile brighter than ever. "This… this is like a dream." he murmured, as if speaking to himself. He drew you close, his arms encircling you as he let himself feel a bit of reality’s warmth, away from the dream he often clung to.

[coolearistrashcollection]

Probably no one is interested in this but like,, it’s knitting season and I already started off strong:

Behold, the sugarplum pullover using langyarn’s orion in blue/green.

I need to buy one more skein and then I’ll be able to finish it. I’ll post the result too.

[thedemoninme141]

Ugly Sweater Party (Set in the "Not a bad day" universe)

Summary: Enid orchestrates an "Ugly Sweater Party" where Wednesday's jealousy takes over.

Parings: Wednesday X Female Reader. Theme: Fluff! Set in the "before dating" period. Wordcount: 4k

Warnings: Jealous Wednesday? Hot-cocoa-Burn??? Cringe Romance!!

Dedicating this work to @blue-because-no-yellow

“So, hear me out, guys! An ugly sweater party! Like, before Christmas break. I’ve been looking at ideas online, and it’s just soooo fun! We could have contests for the ugliest sweater, snacks, music. Oh, and hot chocolate! Lots and lots of hot chocolate. Doesn’t that sound amazing?” Enid chirped.

Ajax blinked slowly, clearly still waking up. “Wait, so… everyone wears ugly sweaters and… that’s it?”

“Not just that! There’s music, games, maybe a contest for the ugliest sweater. We’ll decorate a space with string lights and make it festive!” Enid’s eyes practically sparkled. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

"What's the deal with the ugly sweaters, though? Why not just regular sweaters?" Ajax asked.

"Because!" Enid exclaimed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Ugly sweaters are festive and hilarious. It's a Christmas tradition!"

Yoko, sipping her coffee, said. "I don't do tacky."

"Yoko, you wear sunglasses indoors," Bianca quipped.

"Exactly." Yoko said, smirking.

“You know what, this can be fun if done right. Besides, who doesn’t love ugly sweaters and snacks?” Divina chimed in.

“A normal human being,” Wednesday muttered flatly.

Enid ignored her. “Come on, it’s not like we have to take it seriously or anything! It’s just an excuse to hang out and, you know, do something festive for once. Right, Eugene?” She turned to the boy, who had been quite.

Eugene adjusted his glasses, looking sheepish. “Uh, I guess it sounds kinda cool. As long as there are snacks…”

“There will be plenty of snacks, Eugene,” Enid assured him before turning to Kent. “What about you?”

Kent shrugged. “I’m in. Sounds chill. Plus, I’ve got this old sweater with Santa surfing on a shark. It’s perfect.”

“See? Everyone loves it!” Enid threw her arms up in triumph, beaming around the table. “Well, almost everyone.”

Bianca sighed. “Even if we wanted to, where are we going to throw a party like that? We’d need space, like a lot of space."

“What about the forest clearing?” Eugene suggested, “We could string up lights in the trees.”

“Yeah, because freezing to death sounds so festive,” Bianca said.

Enid’s blondeness didn't waver down. Enid turned toward Wednesday expectantly. “What about you, Willa? Do you know a place?”

“I am neither interested in your puerile event. Do whatever you want. Just leave me out of your hideous party.”

“What party?”

Wednesday’s posture stiffened immediately. Her grip on her fork tightened as she glanced up, only to find you approaching the table. You carried your tray with that infuriatingly warm smile on your face, the one that made her chest feel like it was simultaneously imploding and catching fire.

You slid into an empty seat beside Eugene, your curious eyes scanning the group. “What’s all the fuss about?”

Enid’s face lit up as if Christmas had arrived early. “Oh my gosh, okay, so I’m planning an ugly sweater party! Everyone wears the tackiest sweaters they can find, and we’ll have games and hot cocoa and, like, a contest for the ugliest one. Doesn’t that sound amazing?”

You laughed softly, and Wednesday’s pulse quickened. She hated how much she noticed the subtle curve of your lips. It was maddening.

“Sounds interesting,” you said, your smile lingering.

Wednesday’s jaw tightened. Interesting? Why did you have to find it interesting? And why did that single word make her want to throw herself into the abyss?

The group continued discussing but Wednesday heard none of it. Her focus was on you—the way you rested your chin on your hand, the sparkle of amusement in your eyes. She’d planned to completely ignore this party nonsense, but now? Your involvement complicated everything.

“Where are we even going to host this?” Divina asked again, bringing Wednesday out of her spiral.

Enid groaned, throwing her hands up. “Ugh, I don’t know! There’s got to be somewhere big enough that we won’t get in trouble.”

“You could ask Principal Weems for the common room,” Kent suggested, though his tone made it clear he didn’t think it was a great idea.

“She’d never go for it,” Bianca said. “Not unless you can somehow convince her it’s educational.”

“Educational?” Enid snorted. “What am I supposed to say? That ugly sweaters teach math?”

The table erupted in laughter, but Wednesday remained silent, her mind racing. She could feel your gaze on her, curious and patient. It was unbearable.

Before she realized what she was doing, she spoke.

“The Gates Mansion.”

The group fell silent, turning to look at her in surprise.

“What?” Enid asked.

“You can host your ridiculous party at the Gates Mansion,” Wednesday said, her tone clipped.

“Wait, are you serious?” Ajax asked. “Isn’t that place, like… haunted or something?”

“The hyde is gone. Crackstone is gone. Thornhill is gone,” Wednesday replied matter-of-factly. “It’s nothing but an old, decrepit house now.”

Enid’s eyes lit up. “Oh my gosh, that might work! Weems would never find out if we do something there and we could totally make it festive with some cleaning and lights! This is going to be so cool!”

“You’re going to need more than cleaning,” Yoko said. “That place is a wreck.”

“And terrifying,” Eugene added.

“Exactly why I’m going to need someone brave and crazy to help me clean it up!” Enid declared.

The entire group turned to Wednesday , even you were watching her, a small smirk tugging at your lips.

Wednesday sighed deeply, rolling her eyes. “Fine. But don’t expect me to wear one of those abominable sweaters.”

Enid squealed in delight, clapping her hands. “This is going to be the best ugly sweater party ever!”

Wednesday cast a fleeting glance at you.

She wasn’t sure whether to curse you or thank you for making her day infinitely more complicated.

.

"Uh… are we sure about this?” Ajax asked, glancing at the dilapidated structure. “It looks like the setting of every horror movie ever.”

“Relax, Ajax,” Enid chirped, her voice brimming with forced cheer.

“Wednesday and I have been here before. Just a big, spooky, totally-not-haunted house.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring,” Ajax muttered, inching closer to Enid as if proximity could protect him.

“The last time we were here, we were chased by the hyde. You know, a grotesque, murderous monster with claws designed to flay flesh.” Wednesday was behind them, getting dragged into this mess by Enid.

Ajax stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening. “Wait—what?”

“Wednesday!” Enid shot Wednesday a sharp glare. “You’re not helping.”

“I wasn’t trying to,” Wednesday replied, her tone clipped.

Enid rolled her eyes and turned to Ajax, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Look, I promise it’s safe. The hyde’s gone, and Wednesday’s just being dramatic.” She shot her roommate a pointed look.

Ajax hesitated, glancing at the mansion again. “Uh.. I think I forgot something back at Nevermore…”

Enid nudged Ajax forward. “Come on, don’t bail on me now. Besides, we need someone tall to hang the lights. Right, Willa?”

Wednesday didn’t answer. She was too busy glaring at the mansion, as though willing it to collapse and save her from this pointless endeavor.

“Alright, team, let’s split up and conquer! Ajax, you can start by clearing the cobwebs. Wends and I will tackle the furniture.”

“I didn’t agree to this,” Wednesday said flatly.

Enid ignored her. “Come on, it’s for the party! And think of all the fun everyone’s going to have. Especially you-know-who.”

Wednesday’s jaw tightened.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Y/N,” Enid said dramatically, holding a hand to her chest. “I just didn’t get enough help with the setup, and that’s why this party isn’t up to your standards.”

Wednesday’s glare could have turned Enid to stone. She knew exactly what her roommate was doing, and worse.... it was working. Begrudgingly, she picked up a dust-covered chair and moved it to the corner of the room.

Enid winked at Ajax, who looked more confused than anything. “See? Teamwork makes the dream work.”

The hours dragged on, filled with Ajax’s muttered complaints, Enid’s chatter, and the occasional sound of Wednesday grinding her teeth. As they worked, the mansion slowly transformed. The dust was swept away, the windows sparkled, and strings of lights began to illuminate the once-shadowy corners.

By the end of the day, the Gates Mansion was looking almost festive—if you squinted and ignored the peeling wallpaper and the leftover cobwebs.

🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸

Wednesday stood near the fireplace, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her posture was as rigid as ever, her expression blank. But inwardly, she was waging a battle against her gag reflex. Everywhere she looked, there was an explosion of color—garish reds, obnoxious greens, hideous yellows. And the sweaters. The sweaters.

Her own attire was simple, deliberate, and true to her identity: a plain, black sweater devoid of any embellishment. It was the only concession she had made to Enid’s ridiculous demands.

Her circle of idiots had gathered on mismatched sofas dragged into a semi-circle at one corner, all chattering as Enid zipped around with an energy that could power a small town. Ajax trailed behind her, struggling under the weight of a tray filled with cups of hot cocoa.

“Wednesday!” Enid called, waving her over. “Get over here and grab some hot cocoa before it’s all gone. Ajax nearly spilled half of it on the way in.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes as she stepped closer with deliberate slowness, as if approaching a live grenade.

“Isn’t this just the best?” Enid beamed, handing her a mug. “I mean, look at us! Ugly sweaters, hot cocoa, and friends. It's like a cute dream!"

“More like a nightmare,” Wednesday muttered, eyeing the mug suspiciously. Still, she accepted it, if only to keep her hands busy and distract herself from the urge to claw her eyes out.

Bianca smirked from her spot on the sofa. “You’re just mad because you couldn’t resist joining in. Look at you, wearing a sweater like the rest of us.”

“This is not a sweater,” Wednesday corrected, her tone sharp. “It’s a black, woolen garment devoid of festivity.”

“Still counts, anyway, guys! It’s time to decide who’s wearing the ugliest sweater. We need a system!” Enid chirped.

“Can’t we just vote?” Ajax suggested, taking a cautious sip of his cocoa.

“No way,” Enid replied. “That’s too boring. We need something fun. Like, a panel of judges or—oh! Maybe we each explain our sweater, and the group decides.”

“Or,” Bianca drawled, raising a brow, “we pick someone who’s brutally honest to a fault and let them decide.”

As one, the group turned to Wednesday.

Her grip on the mug tightened as every pair of eyes locked onto her. Enid was practically bouncing with excitement. “Wednesday, you’re perfect for this! You’ve got the sharpest eye. Come on, roast us.”

Her eyes narrowed. “No.”

“Oh, come on!” Enid pleaded. “You’re perfect for this.”

Bianca smirked. “Well, we’ve finally found a use for Wednesday. Come on, Addams. Judge us.”

“Fine,” she said. “But don’t cry when I destroy your fragile egos.”

“Yay!” Enid cheered, clapping her hands. “Okay, go!”

Wednesday stood, her gaze sweeping over the group. She started with Yoko, her tone clipped and precise. “Yoko’s sweater is an abomination of neon and flashing lights. It looks less like a holiday garment and more like a warning sign for an approaching biohazard.”

Yoko snorted, clearly amused, while the others burst into laughter.

Wednesday’s gaze landed on Enid. She paused, taking in the jingling bells and riot of color. “And Enid… Your sweater is less a garment and more a crime scene. It’s a murder of taste and decency, except crime scenes look beautiful, yours is hideous. ”

Enid gasped in offense, clutching her chest. “How dare you? This is festive perfection!”

Next victim was Ajax, “Your sweater is an assault on the senses. The color palette suggests that it was designed by someone experiencing a particularly vivid fever dream. And the snowman? You know what, I take that back, I actually like this sweater, that abomination of a snowman can work in a horror movie."

“Thanks, I think?” Ajax said nervously.

Bianca crossed her arms, waiting for her turn. Wednesday obliged. “Your sweater is a desperate attempt to marry elegance with obnoxiousness. The glitter alone is enough to give a child a seizure. What do you think it is? The Raven? Your sweater screams, ‘Look at me,’ which, I suppose, is your specialty.”

Bianca raised an eyebrow. “Touché.”

Finally, Wednesday turned to Eugene. She studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. “Your sweater is… acceptable.”

Eugene blinked in surprise. “Wait, is that—was that a compliment?”

“Don’t get used to it,” Wednesday said flatly.

“What about me?”

Wednesday’s head snapped toward you. You were standing near the cocoa station, holding a mug and smiling at her. Your sweater was a disaster—neon orange with a pattern of candy canes, snowflakes, and . It looked like it had been knitted by a maniac with no sense of restraint.

“Go on,” you said, your tone teasing. “Roast me. I can take it. Tear mine apart.” Say what now?

Wednesday opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her mind raced. Hideous. Obscene. A crime against humanity. The words were there, perfectly formed. Yet when she looked at you, all she could think was—

Beautiful.

“Well?” Enid prodded, her grin mischievous. “What’s wrong, Willa? Cat got your tongue?”

Wednesday’s jaw tightened. She could dissect the flaws in a masterpiece with ease, but when it came to you, even wearing that, she couldn’t bring herself to say anything remotely cruel.

“Your sweater…” she began, her voice faltering. “It’s… functional.”

The group failed to stifle their laughter.

“Functional? You said all that for mine and you call her's functional? Come on Wednesday, that's the contest winner right there!” Bianca teased, Wednesday only shot her a glare.

Sensing Wednesday's growing unease, you quickly changed the subject. “Anyway, this cocoa is amazing. Who made it?”

Ajax perked up, raising his hand. “That’d be me.”

You smiled at him, and Wednesday’s chest tightened. “It’s really good. Nice work.”

Ajax grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks. My grandma taught me how to make it. Secret family recipe.”

"You have to teach me someday." You took another sip, your eyes twinkling with genuine appreciation. Wednesday clenched her fists at her sides, the mug in her hand threatening to crack under the pressure of her grip. The warmth of your smile directed at Ajax did something unexplainable to Wednesday’s insides. It was irritating and fascinating all at once.

And so she found herself back in her spot beside the fireplace, trying to look as composed as always.

Her eyes, however, betrayed her. They followed you.

You were by the snack table, chatting with one of the stoners—what was his name? Nate? Nick? It didn’t matter. He leaned closer to say something, and you laughed, the sound a soft chime that seemed to echo in Wednesday’s ears far too loudly, it was maddening.

And that boy, with his messy hair and an air of unearned confidence, was soaking it all in. He said something else, and you giggled again, nudging his arm playfully. Wednesday’s fingers twitched. She imagined reaching for her knife, a comforting thought, though regrettably impractical in this setting.

“Wednesday!” Enid’s chirpy voice broke through her thoughts. She turned her head sharply, meeting her roommate’s bright, oblivious grin. “Isn’t this amazing? Everyone’s having such a good time!”

Wednesday glanced at the room, her gaze flickering back to you before she responded. “I fail to see how this qualifies as ‘amazing.’ ”

“Oh, come on! Look at everyone, laughing, drinking cocoa, making memories! Even you’re not glaring as much as usual. That’s progress.” Enid nudged her playfully, earning another withering glare.

Ajax appeared, holding a tray of other snacks. “Hey, Enid, where do you want these?”

“Over by the snack table!” Enid directed. Then, turning to the group, she clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Alright, people! It’s been super fun hanging out, but it’s time to get your pairs ready because we’re dancing next!”

A collective murmur rose, some students cheering while others groaned.

“Dancing?” Bianca raised an eyebrow, sipping her cocoa. “You didn’t say anything about dancing, Sinclair.”

“I did too!” Enid protested. “Well… maybe I hinted at it. Anyway, it’s happening, so suck it up!”

“Uh, what if we can’t dance?” a random student yelled.

“You sway awkwardly and call it a day,” Enid quipped and dashed toward her barely put together DJ booth to adjust the music while everyone started paring. Wednesday remained by the fireplace, her gaze locked on you.

Nate-nick stepped closer toward you, his posture overly casual, and Wednesday’s fingers curled into fists.

“So, Y/N,” he began, scratching the back of his head. “You’re, like, really cool. Wanna, uh, be my partner for the dancing?”

Wednesday didn’t even wait to hear your answer. Spinning on her heel, she made her way to Ajax, who was setting down the last of the cocoa mugs.

“Ajax,” she said, her voice flat but laced with an edge that made him flinch.

“Uh, yeah, Wednesday?” he asked nervously, straightening up.

“I need more hot cocoa. Boiling.”

Ajax blinked, clearly confused. “Boiling? I mean, sure, but isn’t the regular batch warm enough?"

“Did I stutter?” Wednesday’s dark eyes bore into him, and Ajax quickly held up his hands in surrender.

“Nope. Boiling cocoa, coming right up.” He scrambled to prepare a fresh batch, throwing nervous glances over his shoulder just preparing himself to dodge any flying knives. When it was ready, he handed her a mug. The liquid inside was steaming.

“Here you go,” Ajax said, still baffled. “Didn’t think you’d like cocoa this much… careful tho."

Wednesday’s lips curled into a smirk, one that sent a shiver down Ajax’s spine. As he watched her turn and walk away, realization dawned on him. He quickly busied himself with something else, wisely choosing not to question her about whatever she planned to do with this acid he just gave her.

Without hesitation, Wednesday approached the boy who had dared to ask you to dance. He was still by your side, oblivious to the doom looming behind him. With calculated precision, Wednesday "tripped," her hand jerking just enough to send the scalding cocoa splashing onto his arm and chest.

“AHHH! HOT!” He yelped, flailing as the cocoa soaked through. His friends quickly gathered around him, their faces a mixture of shock and fear.

“How clumsy of me,” Wednesday said flatly, not bothering to mask her lack of remorse.

His friends exchanged nervous glances, none daring to confront her. They helped him toward the kitchen to clean up, leaving you standing there, bewildered.

“Wednesday,” you said, stepping closer. “Was that… really an accident?”

“Of course,” she replied, her voice calm as ever. “Gravity is unpredictable.”

You sighed, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’ve been called worse,” she deadpanned.

The music started up behind you, and the others began pairing off and moving to the makeshift dance floor. The room was alive with laughter and chatter, but you and Wednesday stood apart from it all. You glanced around before looking back at Wednesday. “Come with me.” It wasn’t a question. For a moment, Wednesday hesitated, her mind racing with a thousand reasons to say no. But instead, she found herself nodding. “Lead the way.”

Wednesday followed you up the grand staircase. She didn’t bother asking where you were leading her, she didn’t particularly care. If you wanted privacy, she would oblige. If this was another attempt to pry some semblance of emotion out of her, you would fail. Or so she told herself.

You pushed open a door at the end of the hall, revealing a spacious room bathed in moonlight streaming through large, arched windows.

Turning to face her, you crossed your arms, “Well, considering you’ve likely left my dance partner with third-degree burns…”

Wednesday tilted her head, “I fail to see how that is my problem.”

“Oh, it is.” You stepped closer, your voice softening. “Because now, you have to take his place.”

Her eyebrows rose, a rare flicker of surprise crossing her otherwise stoic face. “I fail to see how that logic tracks.”

“You caused the incident. You take responsibility.” Your tone left no room for argument, but before she could protest further, you added, “But I’m kind enough to spare you the humiliation of doing it downstairs. We’ll dance here. Privately.”

The word privately settled uncomfortably in her chest, both a warning and something she couldn't recognize.

“I’m even letting you have a say in the music,” you said, glancing at her. “Any requests?”

“Something haunting,” she replied without hesitation, the corner of her mouth twitching into what might’ve been a smirk.

You hummed thoughtfully before selecting a piano piece—somber, slow, and emotional. It wasn’t the haunting melody she had hoped for, but it was close enough.

Wednesday stepped closer, her posture rigid. “I don’t slow dance.”

“Well, tonight you do,” you said with a teasing smile, holding out your hand.

She stared at it as if it were an unfamiliar weapon, something both intriguing and dangerous. After a moment of hesitation, she took it. Your fingers were warm, soft against the coolness of her own, and she tried to ignore the way her pulse quickened at the contact.

You guided her hand to your waist and placed your hand on her shoulder, the touch sending a ripple of something unfamiliar through her. She mirrored your movements stiffly at first, her steps awkward as the two of you began to sway to the music.

“Relax, Wednesday,” you said softly, your voice carrying a warmth that somehow made Wednesday feel chills.

“I am relaxed,” she countered, though the tension in her shoulders betrayed her words.

You chuckled, a sound that grated on her nerves and yet inexplicably soothed them. Slowly, her body began to follow the rhythm, her steps becoming less mechanical. She focused on the music, letting it guide her movements, but her attention kept drifting back to you.

Your eyes were soft, your smile easy, and the way you looked at her—as if she were something precious—made her chest feel something she didn’t fully understand. She had always prided herself on her ability to remain detached, to keep the world at arm’s length. But with you, that distance seemed to collapse, leaving her exposed and vulnerable in a way she found both infuriating and intoxicating.

As the dance continued, the space between you grew smaller. She could feel the faint scent of whatever perfume you wore, and it was all-consuming. Her usually sharp mind felt dull, clouded by your presence.

This was dangerous. You were dangerous. Not in the conventional sense, of course, you posed no physical threat. But the way you made her feel, the way you seemed to slip past every wall she had built around herself, was a danger of an entirely different kind. She didn’t like it. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away.

And then you rested your head on her shoulder.

Wednesday froze, her body stiffening before she forced herself to relax. Her heart, that stubborn organ she often dismissed as a mere biological necessity, pounded erratically in her chest. She didn’t understand it, this inexplicable pull toward you, but she knew she didn’t want it to end.

You sighed softly, your breath warm against her neck. “Thanks for this, Wednesday. I know it’s not your thing, but… it means a lot.”

Her other free hand, which had been hovering awkwardly at her side, hesitated before resting lightly against your back. The gesture was hesitant, almost uncertain, but it felt… right. Too right.

She didn’t know how long you stayed like that, swaying gently in the moonlight. All she knew was the warmth of your body, the softness of your breath, and this, whatever this was...

When the music finally faded, you lifted your head and met her gaze. There was something unspoken in your eyes, something she couldn’t quite name but felt all the same. She didn’t say anything, and neither did you. The silence was enough.

As you stepped back, breaking the spell, she felt an ache she couldn’t place. You smiled at her, soft and genuine, and she found herself returning it—just barely.

“Thanks for the dance,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded, her expression as stoic as ever, but her mind was anything but calm.

As you turned and left the room, she felt something in her hand, a small note, "Call me sometimes Wednesday"

The faintest trace of a smile tugged at Wednesday's lips.

Not a bad party, not bad at all.

[This was so fun to write, thought you guys need some fluff after the heartbreak from the last oneshot]

[A VERY IMPORTANT REQUEST: A close friend of mine @blue-because-no-yellow is leaving for a few months on her basic training. So I would be really grateful to you guys if you wished her some goodluck in the comments! Like really, sometimes, the kind words of strangers become something to remember during hard times in the future...]

[WORKLIST]

[fluffyviktoriya]

There is always chaos during the selection process 🤭

[mohairmaster]

Mohaireena: Intermezzo

[coquettefashion]

Pink Fuzzy Top,  Skirt, Boa, Tights & Mary Janes

[midgetbearhans]

i cant stop touching your fluffy sweater ~

[pavstockmangen]