#Ben Shelton

[giveafike]

The Best Christmas Yet - B.T.S

TLDR: Merry Christmas, to you and to Ben. This is a bonus of Azzie's Advent Calendar 2024!

Word count + info: 5k + dialogue.

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW! slightly suggestive towards the end but clean : )

Azzie Notes ✚: C'mon! You think I'd leave you on that note from yday? And without a Christmas gift? Pfftttt cmon now! srry if i sent u to bed pissed off yday bahahaha Santa told me that u deserve a little extra so..here we are! He delivered this post, not me

I know Christmas can be lonely at times and everyone's super duper busy, (me included, when this goes up, I am prob knee deep with work, being my parents' Patissier + sous chef + a childminder/nanny with the kids + cleaner...- GOD) so here's something to sink into <3

With that being said, I won't be posting for a small bit, just catching my breath before getting back into all the inbox reqs + I'll prob get into my other writing reqs, let's give Ben a break and time to relax before he gets thrown back in :)

Merry Christmas, have fun and be safe! sending u joy, love and peace :) - Azzie

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“Hey, get up.”

A hand nudged your shoulder, hesitantly but firm, and then you felt a poke to your cheek.

“Baby, c’mon, I need you up!”

A peck to your lips stirred you from the depths of sleep, and you groaned softly, burrowing further into the blankets. He was entirely too alert for such an ungodly hour.

“It's Christmas! Don’t make me drag you out of bed,” Ben teased, his voice low but insistent, laced with excitement.

You blinked your eyes open, humming in confusion the world still fuzzy at the edges. Ben’s face hovered over yours, the faint glow of the twinkle of Christmas lights from outside gleaming through the curtains, casting soft shadows across his features. He was already dressed, his dark hoodie pulled snugly over his body, curls surprisingly neat and tamed, and the brightness in his eyes completely at odds with the still, sleeping house around you.

“What time is it?...you’re ...like, too awake right now” you mumbled, your voice hoarse with sleep.

Ben laughed softly, crouching by your side. “Trust me, you’re gonna wanna see this. Get dressed, grab your presents, oh, and don’t forget my stuff. Y'got 10 minutes.”

“What are you even talking about-?” you started, but Ben was already pulling back the blanket, tossing you one of his spare hoodies onto the foot of the bed.

“No questions,” he interrupted, voice smiling but firm, pointing at the hoodie. “Up. Now. And quietly.”

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you sat up, the chilly air of the house nipping at your skin and cementing that this wasn’t a dream, or if it was, this was a very realistic one, painfully realistic. The stillness was too real, the kind of quiet that could only exist when the world was still deep in slumber. Groggily, you swung your legs over the side of the bed, feeling the cold floor beneath your feet.

As you tugged on the hoodie and shuffled to grab your gifts from the paper bags you hid away in his wardrobe, the faint hum of the central heater became your only companion. You picked up the neatly wrapped presents you’d gotten for Ben, stacked in a bag alongside a few smaller ones for Lisa, Bryan, and Emma. The ones for his family were quietly tucked under the Christmas tree as Ben instructed as you passed through the dimly lit living room.

The sight of the living room warmed you, even in your grogginess. Air mattresses sprawled across the floor, the family nestled under thick blankets and quilts on the far side, away from the tree. The faint glow of coloured lights danced off the walls from outside, highlighting the care that went into decorating the house.

Ben’s hand found yours as you found him back in the hallway, his grip warm and steady as he led you toward the front door. You glanced back at the sleeping family, a flicker of hesitation in your mind.

“Ben…” you whispered, casting him a questioning look when he opened the front door, ushering you out into the chilly early morning air.

He turned back to you with a grin, tugging you gently outside. “Just trust me. You’ll see soon enough.”

The world outside was quiet and dark, the air crisp and laced with the scent of crispness that only a breeze could carry. His white G-Wagon idled in the driveway, already heated, the soft rumble of the engine breaking the silence of the dawn. You gently set your presents for Ben down in the backseat which sat beside a neatly packed bag that definitely wasn’t yours. Ben opened the passenger door, guiding you in with a hand on your back.

“What is all this, Ben? What's goin' on?” you asked, twisting to look at the suspiciously full back seat.

“You’ll see, just hold tight for a bit longer, m'kay?” he pleaded, sliding his hand over yours on the console.

The drive was peaceful, the world outside still dark as Ben navigated quiet roads. His thumb rubbed lazy circles over your knuckles as he drove, occasionally lifting your hand to kiss it, all mixing into your drowsy state, amplifying it.

“Sleep if you want,” he murmured, almost as if he read your mind.

Despite your scepticism on this last-minute rendezvous, your sleep-heavy mind couldn’t keep up with his giddy energy. With the soft purr of the engine beneath you and the rhythmic movement of the road lulling you into this half-sleep you found it harder and harder to fight against. The heated seat didn’t help. Neither did Ben’s low hum as he tapped the steering wheel while thumbing circles like a massage over your skin, every so often glancing at you with a look that screamed he knew exactly what he was doing.

Wherever he was taking you, you knew it had to be worth it. You could still feel the warmth of the house on your skin, the chilled morning air battling the heat already building inside the car.

“Just relax, babe,” he laughed softly, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand. “I’ll wake you when we get there.”

You didn’t intend to fall asleep, but the next thing you knew, the car slowed to a stop, the engine idling quietly as the faint sound of waves lapping at the shore reached your ears.

“Hey,” Ben’s voice was soft as he brushed your hair back, his lips brushing against your temple. “We’re here.”

You blinked blearily, looking out the window to see the dark silhouette of the ocean stretching into the horizon, the faint light of dawn beginning to break on the edges. The air smelled salty and fresh, completely different from the Christmas scents of cinnamon and pine you’d left behind.

“The beach?” you asked, your voice still thick with sleep.

Ben grinned, shifting in his seat to face you fully. “Not just the beach. Look out your window.”

That’s when you see it.

You noticed the cozy little beach house, its soft lights glowing warmly against the backdrop of the dark waves. A Christmas wreath hung on the door, and through the large windows, you could see the flicker of a Christmas tree and decorations inside.

“Ben…” you trailed off, your voice catching in your throat as you turned to him.

His grin widened as he reached for the packed bags in the back. “Merry Christmas, baby. This is all ours for the day. Just you and me.”

Your eyes widened. “Ben, wait… Does your family know? What about the rest of Christmas-”

“They know,” he interrupted chuckling like a kid, leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek to calm your spiralling thoughts. “They’re all in on it. That’s why we did Christmas Eve so big yesterday. Mom even helped me set this up.”

The realisation hit you like a wave, and all the little moments over the past week clicked into place, the way Lisa had brushed off his odd behaviour, the quick glances between him and Emma, even Bryan’s playful teasing.

“You planned all this?” you whispered, still trying to wrap your head around it while you woke up.

Ben nodded, his eyes soft as he looked at you. “You deserved something special. You’re always thinking about everyone else, making sure they’re happy, fittin' in for our traditions and family. I wanted this to just be for us.”

You couldn’t say anything. Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. He held you tightly, his hands warm against your back as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“You’re ridiculous,” you mumbled into his shoulder, the tiniest smile tugging at your lips.

“Maybe,” he murmured back. “But you love it.”

You pulled away just enough to look at him, your nose brushing his before you pressed your lips to his. “I really do.”

Ben grinned against your mouth before pulling back and nodding toward the house. “C’mon, let’s get inside. Santa apparently dropped something off for us.”

Ben hopped out of the car with a bounce in his step, grabbing the bags from the backseat before coming around to your side. He opened your door with an exaggerated bow, motioning for you to step out.

“After you, Mrs. Claus,” he teased with a wink.

“Not funny,” you mumbled, still not entirely awake but following his lead.

The soft crunch of sand under your shoes mixed with the rhythmic sound of the waves, the faint golden light of the rising sun beginning to spread across the horizon. Ben unlocked the front door with a set of keys he’d clearly had ready, and as he pushed it open, a wave of warmth hit you immediately.

Inside, the beach house was something out of a Floridian winter wonderland fever dream. A towering Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner of the open-plan living room, its branches heavy with warm white lights, delicate glass ornaments, and strands of ribbon that shimmered in the soft glow. Garlands of greenery were draped over the fireplace mantle, complete with stockings embroidered with reindeer. The massive hard-topped kitchen island sat proudly in the shared kitchen-living room space. The wooden beams overhead gave the space a cozy, cabin-like feel, a stark contrast to the sandy shores just steps away outside.

“Wow…” you breathed, taking it all in.

“Thought you’d like it,” Ben said, setting the bags down near the couch.

Your gaze drifted to the couch, where a set of red-and-white Christmas pyjamas were neatly laid out. They were embroidered in gold stitching: “Mr. Claus” and “Mrs. Claus.”

You shot him a look, mock disgusted holding up the “Mrs. Claus” set. “Oh, so that's why you said that earlier...really, Ben?”

He shrugged, utterly unapologetic. “No idea what you're talking about. Santa must’ve been here early.”

You shook your head, but a laugh bubbled out anyway as you grabbed the pyjamas. “You’re something else.”

“Something you love,” he corrected, grinning as he grabbed his set and disappeared down the hallway to change.

Once you were dressed, you stepped back into the living room to find Ben waiting by the tree. He looked ridiculously good, the festive pyjamas fitting tight and snug over his broad shoulders and long frame.

You let yourself melt into his embrace, your cheek resting against his chest as the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint aroma of pine and cinnamon filling the air. His arms tightened around your waist, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“For what?” he asked, his lips grazing your temple.

“For… all of this. You didn’t have to do it.”

Ben leaned back just enough to tilt your chin up, his brown eyes meeting yours. “Of course I did. How could I not? You’ve done nothing but make this year the best of my life, and this whole month has just been me falling in love with you all over again. I wanted to give you something special in return.”

Emotion tightened in your chest, and instead of responding, you leaned up to kiss him. It was slow and unhurried, the kind of kiss that felt like sealing a promise.

When you finally pulled back, you stayed close, your forehead resting against his. “I really don’t know how I got so lucky.”

“I think it’s the other way around,” Ben said softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek before he pulled you back into his arms, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

After a moment, he gently nudged you toward the couch. “C’mon, let’s get these gifts out and under the tree.”

You smiled, setting down the gifts you’d brought for him under the tree, neatly stacking the carefully wrapped packages and bags. Ben joined you, unloading his own pile, which looked suspiciously extravagant.

“Are those all for me?” you asked, eyeing the growing stack with amusement. His weren't the most neatest, but in fairness, they were oddly shaped and done with love.

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see, but first, let's get breakfast, hm?” he said, nudging your side playfully.

With the tree glowing warmly beside you and Ben at your side, it felt like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

You quirked an eyebrow, sinking into the plush couch as you pulled a blanket over your lap. “You cook now?”

He shot you a faux-offended look, grabbing a spatula from the utensil holder on the counter and spinning it dramatically like a tennis racket.

“First of all, rude. Second, I’ve been practising. So buckle up, baby, this is gonna be five-star dining.” Ben clapped his hands together as he stood, stretching his arms above his head, rolling his neck dramatically like he was back on court.

You laughed, resting your head on the sofa's arm as you watched him bustle around the kitchen. The open floor plan allowed you to see everything, Ben digging through the cabinets, pulling out pans, eggs, and a loaf of crusty bread. He moved with purpose, humming under his breath as he worked, occasionally throwing a smug glance your way as if to say, See? Totally got this.

The warm smell of cinnamon and butter soon wafted through the air, mingling with the faint salty breeze that slipped in from the crack he’d left in the balcony door. Outside, the sun was beginning to rise in earnest, golden light spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows and painting the space in a soft, dreamy glow.

“French toast?” you guessed, eyeing the griddle where slices of bread sizzled to perfection.

“French toast,” Ben confirmed with a wink. “And bacon. Because, y’know, balance.”

You chuckled softly, feeling the last bits of morning grogginess melt away. Leaning back, you turned around and let your gaze drift to the ocean visible through the windows. The waves rolled lazily onto the shore, their rhythmic crashes blending with the quiet clatter of Ben moving around the kitchen.

A few minutes later, he appeared beside you, holding a plate piled high with perfectly golden French toast, a generous drizzle of syrup glistening on top, and crispy strips of bacon on the side. “For you, my dear,” he said, bowing dramatically as he handed it over.

“Why, thank you, Chef Shelton,” you teased, accepting the plate with a grin.

He returned with his own plate and settled beside you, the couch dipping under his weight as he pulled the blanket over both of you.

“Might as well enjoy breakfast with the best view,” he murmured, nodding toward the windows.

You both dug in, the first bite of the warm, sweet French toast melting in your mouth. “Okay,” you admitted, pointing your fork at him. “This is actually really good.”

Ben smirked, leaning back against the couch. “Man, I told you! I’ve been perfecting my craft.”

The two of you ate in comfortable silence for a while, the rising sun painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The light reflected off the water, casting shimmering patterns across the walls of the beach house.

At one point, Ben reached over, his fingers brushing against yours as he stole a piece of bacon from your plate. “Hey!” you protested, laughing as you swatted at his hand.

He grinned, unabashed, chewing triumphantly. “What’s yours is mine, remember?”

“Except for food,” you shot back, but your mock irritation was betrayed by the smile tugging at your lips.

As the conversation lowered and plates set down, Ben wiped his hands on a napkin before leaning closer, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “You look beautiful, y’know that?”

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “Ben, I’m literally in pyjamas. My hair’s a mess. I look like I just woke up-”

“And yet,” he said, his eyes warm and sincere, “still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. By far.”

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you looked down at your plate, a soft smile curling your lips. “You’re unbelievable.”

He reached over, gently tilting your chin up so you’d meet his gaze. “And you’re unforgettable.”

You rolled your eyes at the cheesy line, but the flutter in your chest betrayed how much it melted you. “You’re lucky I love you so much.”

Ben laughed, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips before settling back with his plate. “Lucky doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

As the last of the French toast disappeared and the sun fully crested the horizon, you leaned into Ben’s side, his arm wrapping securely around your shoulders. The warmth of the morning, the salty breeze, and the quiet intimacy of the moment made it feel like you were in your own little world.

But of course, it wasn't long until Ben had grown jittery while eyeing the wrapped presents under the tree. You both sat on the wooden floors, smiling as you gathered the presents together.

Ben shifted, reaching for a small, neatly wrapped box from the pile beneath the tree. “Alright,” he said, a playful grin tugging at his lips as he handed it to you. “Ladies first.”

You took the gift, your fingers brushing over the smooth wrapping paper, the tag reading your name in Ben’s slightly messy handwriting.

You raised an eyebrow at his boyish gummy grin as you glanced between him and the box. “What’s with the smug look? Is this one of those gag gifts that’s gonna explode confetti or something?”

“Guess you’ll have to open it and see,” he teased, leaning back against the couch with his arms crossed, watching you with barely contained excitement.

Peeling the paper back carefully, you revealed a high-end leather handbag, sleek and elegant in design, with subtle gold hardware, its rich, buttery material practically glowing in the soft light of the tree. Your jaw dropped as you ran your fingers over it, the quality undeniable.

“Ben…” you trailed off, lifting the bag to inspect it. “This is stunning. It’s too much.”

“Nothing’s too much for you,” he said simply, his voice softer now.

You set the bag aside carefully, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you. I love it- I love you."

“My turn,” he said eagerly, his eyes lighting up as you reached for one of the boxes you’d wrapped for him.

Ben tore into the wrapping paper like a kid on Christmas morning, which, technically, he was. He pulled out the McLaren Lego kit, his face lighting up as he turned the box over in his hands.

“No way! You actually got it!” he exclaimed, holding it up like it was a trophy. “I’ve been eyeing this forever, man! You are the best!”

“Figured it’d keep you busy when you’re bored,” you teased.

“Nah, I’m building this today,” he declared, setting it aside carefully.

You smiled, watching the joy on his face as he set the box aside. “Figured it’d keep you busy on those days off you pretend you don’t need.”

He shot you a look, mock offended but still grinning. “Careful, or I’ll make you help me build it.”

“I’d be honoured,” you teased, reaching for another gift he’d picked for you.

This time, it was a plush teddy bear, soft and fluffy, with a small ribbon tied around its neck. As you pulled it close, the faint, familiar scent of Ben’s cologne wafted up, wrapping you in comfort.

“You sprayed it with your cologne?” you asked, laughing softly, sniffing it as you hugged it to your chest.

Ben shrugged, a bashful smile tugging at his lips. “Figured it’d keep you company when I’m not around. Plus, he's the only one I'm approving to cuddle you when I'm on tour.”

You shook your head, grinning as you kissed the bear’s head, before kissing Ben's. “It’s adorable. Thank you.”

The two of you continued taking turns, the room filling with laughter and quiet gasps of surprise. You got him new headphones, one that came with tracking so he couldn't lose them, though you knew he'd find some way of making that happen. You also got him a box of different snacks and sweets, all his favourites from his time touring abroad or ones he meant to try but couldn't for one reason or another.

When you handed him the velvet pouch containing the custom silver keychain you bought at the Christmas market, his brow furrowed curiously.

"This one’s… special.” You handed him a velvet pouch, watching as he untied the drawstring and pulled out the custom car keychain.

He pulled it out, his eyes widening as he read the Roman numerals of your anniversary engraved on the sleek metal.

“Woah…” Ben murmured, turning the keychain over in his hands. The Roman numerals gleamed softly in the light of the Christmas tree, and his thumb brushed over the engraving as if committing it to memory.

“They’re the Roman numerals for our anniversary,” you said quietly, watching his reaction.

“This is incredible. I’m putting this on my keys the second we’re done here.”

Ben’s smile was slow but brilliant, and he reached over to pull you into a hug. Before you could respond, Ben looked over the metal again, then sprang to his feet, excitement bubbling over. “Nah, I’m putting this on my keys right now. Hold up!”

He darted toward the hallway, his socked feet slipping slightly on the polished wooden floors. You couldn’t help but laugh as he caught himself on the doorframe, looking back at you with a sheepish grin.

“I meant to do that,” he called back, laughing at his own clumsiness.

“Sure you did,” you teased, shaking your head as you watched him disappear into the other room.

A moment later, he was back, his keys jingling triumphantly in his hand. He slid the keychain onto the ring, holding it up to admire it before stuffing the whole thing into his pocket.

“There,” he said, flopping back down beside you with a satisfied grin. “Now it’s official.”

You smiled, leaning into him and resting your head on his shoulder. “I'm almost getting jealous of that car.”

“I don't kiss my car,” he quipped, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before pulling you closer.

"Mm, not yet." You smiled, handing him the velvet box. His fingers brushed over the soft velvet before he pulled out the custom silver ring. His initials sat on one side, yours on the other, a simple but meaningful design that made his eyes glisten.

“You didn’t have to…” he started, his voice soft with emotion.

“I wanted to,” you interrupted gently. “Something just for you.”

Ben slipped the ring onto his finger, flexing his hand as if to test the fit.

“You really thought of everything,” he said softly, slipping the ring onto his finger and holding it up to admire. “This is perfect.”

Ben stared at the silver ring, a teasing smirk curling his lips as he wiggled his fingers. “Y’know, giving a guy a ring this nice but… people might start talking,” he quipped, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Shouldn't you be down on one knee right now, or…?”

Your laughter bubbled out before you could stop it, the warmth of the moment loosening your nerves. “Oh, don’t even start,” you shot back, shaking your head.

Ben grinned wider, leaning closer to nudge your shoulder with his. “What? I’m just saying, you’ve got the whole package ready, like we're in matching pjs and you got me a custom ring… Feels kinda like a proposal if you ask me.”

“Yeah? Well, maybe I should’ve gotten a little speech ready while I was at it,” you countered, trying to hold back your smile.

Ben laughed, low and warm, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Alright, alright, I’ll back off,” he said, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “But seriously, this means a lot. You didn’t have to go this far. I'm gonna be wearin' this everywhere, showin' everyone what my girl got me.”

“It’s not just a gift, it’s a reminder. Wherever you go, you’ve got a piece of us with you.”

Ben’s expression softened, and he reached out to cradle your face in his hand, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack, babe,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss you gently.

“Good,” you teased, pulling back just enough to nudge his nose with yours.

Ben chuckled, slipping the ring back on and holding it up like he was admiring a priceless artefact. “Alright, your turn,” he said, nudging the next box toward you with a grin. “Let’s see if I can top this.”

Now that it was your turn again, Ben handed you a small, flat box.

Inside was a stack of many, many postcards, each one from a place he’d travelled to. Turning them over, you found messages written on the back of each short, heartfelt message that ranged from funny memories to sweet sentiments about missing you over the duration of the tour.

You picked one at random, noticing Ben’s handwriting on the back, dated from his trip to Paris for the Paris Masters. On the back, he’d written, ‘I missed you so much while I was here. Beat Moutet today, was exhausting though. The Eiffel Tower was pretty, but not as beautiful as you. I can’t wait for us to visit together someday. Thinking of you, like always - your Ben. 29th October 2024.’

Your throat tightened as you read it, picking up another, each postcard a snapshot of his travels and his thoughts of you and a recap of his day.

“Ben…” Your voice wavered as you blinked back the sudden sting of tears.

“I thought… you know, since I can’t always bring you with me, this might be the next best thing...show you 'm always thinkin' of you..,” he said, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you leaned forward, cupping his face in your hands. “I love you so damn much,” you whispered, kissing him softly.

The last gift from him was a music box, its sleek wooden exterior engraved with delicate designs. When you opened it, a soft, familiar melody filled the room, your song, the one that played on loop the night of your first date together, the one that followed you around on dates, whenever you thought of him, when he asked you to be his.

The song that holds you while he's away, swirling you in memories and warmth.

You couldn’t speak, the lump in your throat too heavy, so you simply leaned into him, letting the music wash over you both as he held you close while tears spilt.

“Best Christmas ever?” he murmured against your temple, his arms wrapped securely around you.

You nodded your voice barely a whisper. “Easily. Thank you. For all of this. For everything.”

Ben grinned, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Good. ‘Cause it’s only getting better, every year we spend together. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Ben.”

The day melted into an easy rhythm, filled with shared smiles, easy conversation and soft laughter. Ben slid onto the couch beside you with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, the faint aroma of chocolate and cinnamon wafting through the air. Tiny marshmallows floated on the surface, slowly melting into sugary perfection.

He handed you a mug before settling in, his arm naturally curling around your shoulders. You nestled into his side, your legs draped lazily over his lap as the opening scenes of Home Alone flickered across the screen.

Ben's fingers found your knee, tracing lazy, absentminded circles as Kevin's antics brought out bouts of laughter from both of you. The sound of his laugh, deep and warm, made your heartache in the best way. You couldn’t help stealing glances at him, at the way the soft light of the TV played against his features, highlighting the curve of his smile.

As the afternoon slipped away and the golden hues of the setting sun painted the sky, Ben stretched, the movement causing you to shift slightly against him. He leaned back, his head tilting toward you with a familiar, mischievous glint in his eye.

“You know,” he started, his tone playful but laced with something deeper, “I think I still haven’t unwrapped the best gift.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking as you caught the suggestive lilt in his voice. “Oh?” you asked, feigning innocence.

Ben’s grin spread wider, the kind that sent a thrill straight through you. “Yeah. Pretty sure it’s sitting right next to me,” he said, his voice dropping lower as he leaned in closer, his nose brushing yours.

Heat crept up your neck, and you couldn’t hold back the shy giggle bubbling from your lips. “You’re terrible,” you murmured, unable to resist the teasing spark between you.

“Terrible?” he echoed, mock offended as his free hand slid to rest on your waist. “I think you mean charming.”

The air between you seemed to hum, charged with the promise of more as his thumb traced a slow, deliberate pattern over your hip.

“Mm, that's debatable,” you replied, your voice quieter now, the space between you shrinking.

Ben laughed softly, his lips grazing your temple before lingering near your ear. “Yeah? Let's change your mind then. I've been waitin' to have you all alone...” he whispered, the words full of warmth and something unspoken.

And in that moment, with the soft glow of the screen and the ocean waves whispering beyond the windows, the rest of the world fell away. Everything felt simple and complete, wrapped in the quiet kind of love that made the memory of this Christmas one you’d carry forever.

[celebpits]

[000rrx]

[happy-xy]

Ben Shelton Practice Set with Federico Coria | Slow-Mo Tennis

[eroshaven]

[firstservepercentage]

everyone say thank you atp 2024 Asian swing

[channelslam]

😁✌️ twins 😁✌️

[dewisnation]

Laver cup immediately giving us dumb and dumber (affectionate) as a doubles pair is the kind of content I tune in for

[fairie-bread]

mr shelton unfortunately u have become the latest victim of my pookification beam

[giveafike]

Silent Night, No More - B.T.S

TLDR: CHRISTMAS EVE! This is part 12/12, the last part of Azzie's Advent Calendar 2024!

Word count + info: 5k + dialogue.

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW! No warnings : )

Azzie Notes ✚: Christmas Eve chapter! Finally here, phew! Enjoy reading, and have a lovelyyyy holiday szn my loves <3 be safe and I wish nothing but peace and joy for u and ur loved ones :)

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Christmas Eve dawned on the house, and as soon as the house awakened, excitement and joy immediately lit the house throughout each room. Lisa’s kitchen felt like the heart of the house, beating warm and alive, with an aroma that wafted through the house, every surface serving a purpose as she began cooking the dishes, getting everything for the feast set to ensue later. The counters were a cluttered symphony of ingredients, flour-dusted bowls, glass jars of different herbs and spices, and a large array of serving dishes and other equipment. The oven hummed, working overtime while the gas stoves remained alight with several pots atop, as trays of stuffing and casseroles exchanged places. Lisa moved with the confidence of a seasoned cook, wielding her wooden spoon like a wand.

You, Emma and Ben, had weaved in and out throughout the day, helping clean up the kitchen or assisting in tasting and aiding in preparing some of the dishes. Still, truly Lisa seemed to have it under control, especially with all the prep you both had done the other day. Now it was more a case of gossiping and talking, keeping company while the minutes ticked away while Ben got shooed away to set up the large dining table and the kid's table for dinner.

Emma leaned against the counter, sneaking a piece of carrot from the chopping board while Lisa’s back was turned. “Caught you. Down, girl,” Lisa said without even looking, and Emma’s hand froze mid-air.

“Dang it,” Emma muttered, popping the stolen piece into her mouth anyway. “You’ve got eyes in the back of your head.”

“Mother’s intuition,” Lisa replied, her tone amused as she sprinkled paprika over a bubbling dish. Then, she turned to you. “You keeping her in check?”

You raised both hands in mock surrender. “She’s a free spirit. What am I to do, Lis?”

Emma giggled, linking her arm through yours. “Come on, let’s get ready before Mom ropes us into something else.”

In Emma’s room, Christmas jumpers were laid out on her bed like a festive fashion show. “We’ve got options for the both of us, but you have to wear a Christmas jumper - no escape,” she declared, holding up two hangers.

One featured a fluffy snowman surrounded by tiny, twinkling LED lights; the other was a maroon sweater adorned with white snowflakes and reindeer. “Which one says ‘I’m the life of the party, but also an excellent gift recipient’?”

You laughed, pointing to the reindeer sweater. “Definitely this one.”

She handed it to you before holding up another for herself, a green jumper with a cheerful Santa Claus and jingling bells stitched onto the sleeves. “Perfect,” she declared. “Let’s get festive.”

As you pulled on the sweater and paired it with a sweet black pleated skirt, you glanced at yourself in the mirror and couldn’t help but smile. It was cozy and just the right amount of ridiculous. You pulled your hair back and did light makeup, just blush and concealer and a touch of mascara. Emma, already fully dressed, fluffed her hair and tugged you into a selfie. “Documenting this for the archives,” she said, sticking out her tongue.

The two of you headed back downstairs, where Ben was crouched by the Christmas tree, adjusting the gifts as he snuck his Secret Santa present there too. He stood up as you entered, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. His own jumper, a deep red one with white reindeer, matched yours almost exactly.

Emma burst out laughing. “You two look like you planned this!”

“We didn’t!” you protested, feigning annoyance though your cheeks burned as Ben looked at you, his smile widening.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he said, tugging at his sleeve. “Guess great minds think alike.”

Back in the kitchen, Bryan had just returned, jingling his keys as he carried in a bag filled with snacks.

“Got the goods!” he announced, setting the bag down on the counter. “And before anyone asks, yes, I did mean to buy candy canes the day before Christmas.”

“Uh-huh,” Lisa said, arching an eyebrow. She reached into the bag and pulled out a pack of marshmallows. “And these were on the list?”

“Essential for s'mores,” Bryan said, unrepentant. Then, leaning closer to Lisa, he added in a low voice, “I stopped by the PO Box.”

Lisa smirked knowingly. “Last-minute gift retrieval?”

“Shh,” Bryan replied, holding a finger to his lips as he glanced at you and Emma. “Not a word.”

“Don’t worry,” Emma said, her tone dripping with faux innocence. “Your secret’s safe with us…for now.”

As Bryan moved past you, he clapped a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “You all set up here, kid?”

“Mostly,” Ben replied. He gestured to the table with a sweeping hand. “You want to check my work?”

Bryan squinted at the table like a coach assessing a play. “Not bad, not bad. You might have a future in hospitality if this tennis thing doesn't work out, son.”

Ben rolled his eyes, a grin tugging at his lips. “Good to know I’ve got options.”

As the sun began to set, the kitchen became a flurry of activity. Lisa transferred dishes to serving platters while Emma handled the gravy, stirring it with exaggerated care while you got the cranberry sauce ready. “Gotta keep the lumps out,” she said, winking at you.

Bryan circled back, snagging a piece of bread from the cutting board and earning a sharp “Bryan!” from Lisa.

“What? Quality control,” he defended, chewing unabashedly. Then he turned to you. “By the way, you’re fitting in around here like you’ve been part of the family for years. Good job surviving this lot.”

“Thanks,” you replied with a laugh. “I’m enjoying every chaotic minute.”

Bryan smiled warmly, and for a moment, the teasing glint in his eyes softened as he pat your back. “We’re glad to have you here. Really.”

Ben leaned against the counter beside you, brushing your shoulder with his. “Told you they’d love you,” he said quietly.

Your chest warmed as you turned to him, your voice soft. “Guess I’m just lucky to have the best companion.”

Ben smirked, nudging you lightly. “Please, lucky’s an understatement.”

“Alright, you three,” Lisa called, pointing her spoon at you, Ben and Emma as you stood near the cabinets. “The nice plates and cutlery are in the top drawer, and the good cups are wrapped in the linen closet. Don’t break anything.”

Emma rolled her eyes with a grin, nudging you. “She acts like we’re five. Come on, let’s make this table look like a magazine spread.”

The two of you dug out the plates, admiring the intricate designs that only ever came out for Christmas. Emma carried the stack carefully, while you followed with the silverware and cups, setting them down on the dining table where Ben was already arranging the candles and centrepiece.

“Keep it neat, Benny,” Emma teased as she set the plates down. “This isn’t your tennis playstyle; exactness matters.”

Ben shot her a playful glare, adjusting a placemat just to spite her. “Precision’s my speciality, Em. You’re lucky I’m not measurin' angles here.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you placed forks and knives neatly beside the plates. The three of you worked in unison, the table gradually transforming into a picture-perfect setup with now lit candles, a centrepiece of poinsettias, and a sprinkling of gold and red decor.

As the sun dipped low, the food was plated onto the good dishes and placed in warming trays, bowls and serving trays, the kitchen alive with the clatter of lids and Lisa’s cheerful humming. Bryan returned to the rest of you, a sheepish smile plastered on his face after swiftly tossing his Secret Santa gift beneath the tree.

With the house organised and ready it wasn't long before the family began to arrive.

The door opened to a flood of warmth and sound. Aunts and uncles piled in with cheerful exclamations, small children rowdy and excited darting through your legs, and laughter filled the space as Ben’s family began their Christmas Eve takeover. The smell of cookies, pine, and faint notes of perfume wafted in with them, making the house feel even cozier.

Ben and Emma led the welcoming committee, diving into hugs and playful jabs like they’d been waiting all year for this moment. You followed closely, feeling the contagious energy of their enthusiasm.

One of Ben’s aunts, her arms full of baked goods, set them down to pull you into a tight hug. “Oh, so you’re the one,” she said with a knowing smile. “Ben’s talked about you nonstop. We were beginning to think you weren’t real!”

“I’m real, I promise,” you replied, laughing as she squeezed you again.

Ben’s grandmother was next, her soft hands wrapping around yours as she studied you closely. Her eyes crinkled with warmth. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” she said, her drawl wrapping around the words like a melody. “This boy better be treatin’ you right.”

“Oh, he is, it's a pleasure to finally meet you,” you assured her, feeling your cheeks warm under her kind gaze.

Ben appeared behind you, throwing an arm around his grandmother’s shoulders. “Nana, you’re embarrassing me,” he teased, though the fondness in his tone was unmistakable.

“Good,” she shot back, giving his arm a light slap before turning back to you, squeezing your hand tight before letting go. “We’ll talk more later, sweetheart.”

The uncles were just as welcoming, their handshakes firm and accompanied by wide grins. One leaned in conspiratorially, muttering, “If Ben’s giving you any trouble, let me know. I’ve got plenty of stories that’ll keep him humble.”

“Noted,” you said, unable to suppress your giggles.

Before long, the younger cousins made their presence known. They were a whirlwind of energy, zipping through the living room like tiny tornados. One darted behind you hiding, clearly using you as an advantage for a game of tag, giggling maniacally as another launched themselves at Ben, wrapping their arms around his waist.

“Ben!” the little one squealed.

“Oh no, not again,” Ben groaned dramatically, lifting the child effortlessly and perching them on his shoulders. “Alright, who’s next? Form a line!”

Three more cousins swarmed him, clambering up his legs and giggling as he tried to fend them off with mock protests. “I’m not a jungle gym!” he shouted, though his wide smile betrayed him.

You watched from the side, laughing at the chaos. One cousin paused mid-sprint to look up at you with curious eyes. “Are you his girlfriend?”

Before you could answer, Emma swooped in. “She’s our new favourite family member,” she said with a wink, ushering the little one back into the fray.

Dinner was nothing short of a spectacle. The dining table stretched to its limit, every inch covered with dishes that looked like they’d been lifted from the pages of a holiday cookbook. Platters of turkey, mashed potatoes, green beans, and cornbread vied for space with glasses of sparkling cider and wine.

Lisa stood at the head of the table, raising her hands to gather everyone’s attention. “Alright, everyone,” she said, her voice calm but commanding. “Before we dig in, let’s join hands for a quick prayer.”

You reached for the hands nearest to you, finding Ben’s warm grip on one side and his grandmother’s gentle hold on the other. The room quieted as Lisa spoke.

“Dear Lord,” she began, her voice steady and heartfelt. “Thank you for this family, for this meal, and for the blessing of being together on this special night. May we remember the joy of giving, the love that binds us, and the hope that tomorrow brings. Amen.”

“Amen,” echoed through the room, and then the feast began.

The meal was a lively affair, filled with overlapping conversations, clinking glasses, and occasional bursts of laughter. Ben’s younger cousins, who had temporarily calmed down enough to eat, couldn’t resist sneaking off with a plate of sugar cookies halfway through dinner. They reappeared moments later with suspiciously sweet-smelling fingers and wide-eyed innocence.

Ben caught them red-handed. “Hey! Those are for dessert, y'all are some sneaky lil-!” he feigned anger, chasing them around the table while the rest of the family laughed.

"He always finds a way to sneak back to the kid's table, huh?" one voice laughed.

Bryan just shook his head, pretending to be disappointed as he took a deep sigh, "Every year..."

Once everyone had eaten their fill, the group naturally drifted to the living room, bunching up together. The kids wasted no time sprawling across the carpet in front of the TV, eyes glued to the animated version of The Grinch that played on the screen while milk, cookies and other sweet treats were shared amongst them. Their giggles punctuated the festive chatter, pillows and blankets passed between them like treasures.

The adults, meanwhile, settled into clusters around the room, the cozy couches and armchairs filling quickly. Ben was at the centre of one group, effortlessly juggling questions about his career with that easy charm of his.

“So, what’s next for you, big shot?” one of his uncles teased, though the pride in his voice was unmistakable. “Still aiming for top 10?”

Ben leaned back against the couch, his posture relaxed but attentive. His arm rested along the back of the cushion behind you, a subtle but comforting presence.

“That’s the plan. It’s been a good year so far, but next season’s gonna be a whole new level. A lot of travel, a lot of long days, but I’m ready for it.”

Another uncle nodded approvingly. “As long as you’re enjoying it,” he said, his tone warm. “That’s what matters. Doesn’t hurt that you’re putting our name on the map, either.”

Ben smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting with quiet pride. “Yeah, it’s been fun. It’s a lot of work, but honestly, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

One of his aunts, sitting on the edge of a loveseat nearby, chimed in. “Well, it’s been amazing watching you shine, Ben. Just make sure you’re taking care of yourself too.”

“I’ve got that covered,” Ben assured her, his eyes briefly flicking to you. “It helps to have good people around to keep me grounded.”

The conversation naturally shifted, as all eyes subtly turned toward you. It wasn’t sudden or forced, just a gentle pivot, like a tide rolling in.

Ben’s aunt leaned forward slightly, her expression curious but kind.

“So,” she began, her eyes twinkling with curiosity, “what’s it been like being with Ben? I mean, being with someone who’s on the road so much, always on tour. That’s gotta be… a lot on your shoulders too, sweetheart.”

Ben glanced at you, his expression softening in quiet encouragement as if to say, It’s okay, be honest.

“It definitely has its challenges,” you admitted. “There’s a lot of planning and juggling schedules, but honestly, it’s worth it. Ben has a way of making every moment feel important, even if we don’t get as much time together as we’d like. Quality time over the quantity of time, y'know?”

One of the uncles grinned knowingly, his voice teasing but kind. “Sounds like our Benny’s doing something right for a change.”

Ben rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. “You’re not wrong,” he quipped, earning a round of laughter from the group.

Another voice chimed in, tone pensive. “I can imagine it takes patience. And maybe even a little creativity? It's not like you can always go out or be public, goodness...”

You nodded, humming in agreeance. “Exactly. But it helps that he’s so passionate about what he does. It’s easy to root for someone when you see how much they love what they’re doing. And we're both good at making time for each other and communicating, it works out well.”

“She’s been good around here, huh?” one of the uncles said, gesturing toward you. “Lis, I don’t think we’ve seen you this relaxed in a long time.”

Lisa raised an eyebrow, looking mock-offended. “Excuse me, I am the epitome of relaxed all the time.”

Bryan, returning from the kitchen with a plate of s'mores for the kids, snorted. “Mmhmm, sure you are.”

Lisa waved him off but smiled warmly, her gaze landing on you. “She’s been a breath of fresh air, that’s for sure. I don’t know how Ben managed to talk her into coming down here to spend it with us, but I’m glad he did.”

Ben’s grandmother nodded in agreement, breaking into a gentle smile. “Me too,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “It’s been lovely having you here with us. How’s it been, spending the holidays with all of us? We can be a little… energetic.”

The warmth in the room was palpable, and you felt your cheeks heat at the attention. “Thank you,” you said, your voice earnest. “It’s been incredible. I think I’ve been smiling nonstop since I got here. Everyone’s been so welcoming, it really feels like being part of something special.”

A ripple of murmured appreciation and smiles went around the room, and one of Ben’s uncles, seated with a glass of cider in hand, grinned broadly. “Well, that’s good to hear. We don’t exactly do quiet, but we do a whole lotta love.”

“It shows,” you replied, a genuine smile on your face. “It’s a good kind of chaos. It’s been easy to feel at home.”

The kids erupted into another round of laughter, their voices catching the attention of the room as one tried to mimic the Grinch’s dramatic sly walk, much to the delight of the other children. Their antics drew the group’s attention for a moment, lightening the mood even further.

Ben's hand found its way to your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. His voice filled with pride but just above a whisper. “You okay?” His gaze held yours, steady and sincere.

You turned to him, your smile growing softer. “Yeah,” you said quietly, just for him. “Better than okay.”

He smiled that private little grin that was just for you, and gave your shoulder another reassuring squeeze and a pressing kiss to your temple before turning back to the room. His arm stayed where it was, a silent claim and sign of pride.

As the conversation dropped into a story time of some incident earlier this month you took a moment or two to just sit there surrounded by laughter, chatter, and warmth, feeling entirely at peace. It wasn’t just Ben, it was the family, the energy, and the way they opened their home and hearts to you. You glanced at him again, finding him already looking at you, and you couldn’t help but think, this feels like home.

The room quieted slightly as the conversation dwindled down, which prompted Bryan to stand and clap his hands once, the sound cutting through the chatter. “Alright, everyone, settle down, I think it’s Secret Santa time!”

The announcement was met with cheers, laughter, and some playful groans from the kids, who had long forgone the Grinch and were more interested in a game of play-fighting each other and bouncing on the couch. Lisa emerged from the kitchen with a tray of hot cocoa for the younger ones, while the adults pulled their chairs closer into a semi-circle around the Christmas tree.

“Okay,” Bryan started, grabbing a gift and reading the tag, “this one’s for… Em!”

Emma squealed in delight and scrambled forward, nearly tripping over one of the little cousins who stuck themselves out last minute. She took the neatly wrapped gift from Bryan’s hands, plopped down cross-legged in front of the tree, and tore into it with dramatic flair.

“Oh my gosh!” she shrieked, holding up a beautiful matching outdoor all-weather jacket set, one for her and Halo, alongside a bracelet and dog collar. The colours complemented Halo’s coat perfectly, and there was even a little charm engraved with Halo’s name. “This is so cute, all I put on my wishlist was somethin' for me 'n Halo, who did this?”

You raised your hand a little shy. “That’d be me.”

Emma’s pout was instant and exaggerated, but her eyes sparkled. “You! You’re too good at this!” She bolted up, practically leaping at you as she enveloped you in a tight hug. Her lips pressed a loud, playful kiss to your cheek before she pulled back. “Seriously, this is the best. Thank you!” She immediately began calling Halo over to try on his new gift, beaming with excitement.

Bryan reached for the next present, his grin wide. “Alright, next up… this one’s for Ben.”

Ben took the box with an exaggerated bow, earning laughter and applause. He made a show of shaking it next to his ear, grinning mischievously. “Hmm, feels important,” he teased, glancing at you like you might give something away.

“Just open it, drama king,” Emma called, rolling her eyes.

Ben tore the wrapping away, revealing a sleek black journal and a beautifully designed scratch-off world map. His smile softened as he turned the journal over in his hands, fingers grazing the cover. “This is perfect,” he said, his voice quieter now. He looked around the room, his expression genuinely touched. “I’ve been wanting something like this, I'll do a review on tour and write it down. Thank you, secret Santa.”

“You're welcome,” Lisa admitted, raising her hand with a proud smile. “I figured you could use it for your next season. Better than the normal bunch I get you.”

Ben crossed the room in a few strides, leaning down to kiss his mom on the cheek. “You nailed it,” he said, his gratitude evident.

The next few rounds brought a mix of hilarity and sentimentality. One uncle unwrapped a set of novelty socks featuring flamingos in Santa hats, which sent the room into fits of laughter. An older cousin received a set of gourmet spice blends for their newly discovered love of cooking. One of the younger kids was delighted with a jellycat plushie and various popular blind-boxes, which they immediately hugged to their chest.

Finally, Bryan reached for the gift labelled with your name. “This one’s for you,” he said, handing it over with a grin.

You took the gift, noticing the impeccable wrapping job. “Someone had this done professionally,” you teased, shaking the box gently before pulling at the tape. The room watched eagerly as you opened it, revealing a beautifully curated gift set: an engraved charm bracelet and a luxurious throw blanket in your favourite colour.

“Wow,” you murmured, touched by the thoughtfulness. You glanced up after a few seconds, your eyes scanning the room until they landed on Bryan, who was sitting suspiciously still, legs crossed, a smile tugging at his lips as he tried to cover his mouth from giving him away.

“Bryan!” you exclaimed, laughing as you stood. His wide grin gave him away immediately. "Terrible poker face."

“Guilty,” he admitted, rising to meet your hug. His arms wrapped warmly around you, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Glad you like it.”

“Like it? I love it!” you said, squeezing him back before sitting down again.

As the gifts continued to be opened, the room filled with laughter and joy. Lisa’s gift, a handmade quilt stitched with everyone’s names, earned her a round of applause, while Ben’s grandmother unwrapped a stunning piece of holiday artwork for her mantle, bringing tears to her eyes.

By the time the final gift was opened, everyone was either laughing, hugging, or marvelling at the thoughtfulness of the night, not one present unappreciated. It was pure magic, exactly the kind of warmth and connection that made this holiday unforgettable.

It wasn't long before the well-loved karaoke machine turned into the centrepiece of the late evening. After the initial warm-up of Feliz Navidad with you, Ben, and Emma leading the mission to get everyone in the mood, the night unfolded with a lively lineup of songs. Bryan’s spirited Jingle Bell Rock performance had everyone laughing and clapping, his dramatic hip wiggles earning him a standing ovation from the kids. Lisa’s O Holy Night was a showstopper; her voice soared so beautifully that even the little ones paused their antics to listen momentarily.

The room erupted into applause when she finished, with Bryan dramatically wiping away a fake tear and declaring, “That’s my wife!”

Throughout it all the kids, despite their sugar highs, began to wear down with a sugar crash. One by one, they started curling up on couches, leaning against older cousins, or lying on the plush carpet in front of the tree. Ben surprised everyone with a charmingly off-key rendition of Last Christmas, dedicating it to you while his family howled in laughter when he purposefully butchered the high notes.

“Don’t quit your day job, son,” Bryan teased, throwing a decorative pillow at him.

“Oh, I think I nailed it,” Ben shot back, winking at you as he handed the microphone off to the next brave soul.

You even found yourself roped into a duet with Emma, an upbeat version of Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree, earning a cheer when you both ended with exaggerated bows and somehow, tinsel garlands around your necks like scarves. The energy in the room shifted to a more relaxed hum as the night wore on. Conversations grew quieter, and laughter turned softer as the clock ticked closer to midnight.

By the time the last notes of karaoke faded, the practical task of winding down the house began. Air mattresses were pulled from closets and inflated in the living room for the family staying over. Emma tossed pillows and blankets onto each one, laughing when Ben dropped onto one mattress dramatically, testing its bounce like a kid.

“Ben, you’re gonna pop that thing!” Lisa called from the kitchen, her voice holding a mix of amusement and warning.

The others slowly began to filter out, gathering their coats and wishing everyone a cheerful goodnight and a Merry Christmas. Hugs were exchanged at the door, the promise of seeing each other bright and early the next morning lingering in the air.

The house finally quieted as only the immediate family remained on their feet.

Together, you, Ben, Lisa, Bryan, and Emma tackled the cleanup. Dishes clinked in the sink as Bryan dried them off while Lisa packed leftovers into tupperware with precision. You and Emma worked side by side, wiping down the counters and collecting the last of the wrapping paper scattered near the tree.

“Teamwork makes the dream work,” Emma quipped, passing you another wet cloth.

Ben appeared behind you, reaching for the glasses you’d just dried. “Or at least keeps us from being here until morning,” he added, flashing you a quick grin.

As the final crumbs were swept and the house was put back in order, you found yourself in the kitchen with Ben. He leaned against the counter, his phone in hand, its faint glow casting a soft light across his face. When he caught a glimpse of you, his brows unfurrowed as he quickly tucked his phone back into his pocket.

“Caught you,” you teased, stepping closer. “Being sneaky again?”

“Maybe... just trust me, alright? You’ll see soon enough.”

You tilted your head, pretending to scrutinize him. “You’re lucky tonight was perfect, or I might press you for answers.”

“Perfect, huh?” He pushed off the counter and closed the space between you, his hands brushing yours before settling gently on your waist. “So, my crazy family didn’t scare you off?”

“Not even close,” you murmured, smiling up at him. “They’re wonderful. Tonight was… everything.”

His eyes softened, and he leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “I’m so glad you’re here with me.”

The clock above the stove caught your eye as it ticked past midnight. A small laugh escaped you. “Ben,” you said, nudging him gently, “it’s officially Christmas!”

He caught a glimpse of the clock, his eyes wide as a smile broke out on his face.

“Merry Christmas,” you mumbled before the moment could pass, he leaned down and kissed you, a soft, unhurried kiss that made the world outside of this moment melt away.

When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested gently against yours, his hand cradling your face, breath warm as it mingled with yours. For a moment, neither of you said anything, the hum of the dishwasher and the faint creak of the settling house the only sounds around you.

His hands slid down to yours, fingers intertwining as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere. “For being here. For everything.”

You smiled softly, giving his hands a gentle squeeze. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

The warmth between you was all-encompassing, as though the world had shrunk down to just this kitchen, just this moment. The kitchen remained as the heart of the home, and your heart was here, holding you in his arms, eyes boring into yours with an immeasurable amount of love for you. His thumb brushed across your knuckles as his lips curved into a quiet, contented smile.

From the living room, a faint rustle sounded as Emma and Lisa talked their quiet laughter a reminder of the family still tucked away nearby. The twinkling Christmas lights cast a soft glow over the house, and in the stillness, everything felt whole.

Ben leaned in again, pressing another kiss to your forehead, his voice barely above a whisper. “Merry Christmas,” he said once more, as though savouring the words.

“Merry Christmas,” you echoed, the words wrapping around you both like a blanket. Together, you stood there a moment longer, letting the night settle into your hearts before finally, hand in hand, you turned off the last of the lights and let the warmth of the day carry you both forward.

---

hm. what a weird way to end...right?...

[kitc0nn0r]

[a-g-u-s-t-d1432]

Just woke up and I already know I’m about to have one of those days. Not excited about. Not even a little.

Maybe if I think about my boys my day might be a little better. Maybe a couple of pictures might make me feel a little better.

[fritzes]

happy uso eve, I made another one

[firstservepercentage]

my personal collection of laver cup 24' memes

everyone else are jpgs but daniil is gifed because hes worth it

[channelslam]

[dewisnation]

Aww Morgan and Taylor took their son out to eat in Japan