#and that jingle like holiday bells when they burn out!

[aroguexenolith]

I think I should be allowed to always use incandescent bulbs because I think they’re prettier. Give me a special permit to increase the entropy of the universe just a little bit faster. If I plant lots of trees and native plants and shower compliments on native moths and bees, will that count as negating the less-green-ness?

[vegan-peppermint]

Frost and Flour

Pairing: Krampus!konigx reader

Cw: size kink, power play, slight cnc, breeding;

Inspired by this post.

Summery: in your village, men would dress as monsters on Christmas stealing women and children and run around the town. Your krampus had other ideas.

Did not proof read, I saw this post yesterday and tried to speed run this fic for it to be ready before Christmas. Might be bad and rushed. Will edit after new years.

Word count: 4k

The snow fell thick and soft, blanketing the jagged peaks of the mountains like a heavy quilt. The air was sharp and bracing, scented faintly with pine and the smoky warmth of wood-burning stoves. This was the village of your childhood Christmases, a place where the world seemed smaller, quieter, and steeped in old traditions. Nestled deep in the heart of the mountains, it felt like a hidden pocket of time where the modern world dared not intrude.

Traditions are the heart of the holidays, the thread that weaves magic into the season and shapes the way people celebrate. In every corner of the world, they bring warmth and wonder: streets lit up with strands of melted honey, the soft glow of advent candles peaking through the frosty windows and the -oh too comforting- aroma of cookies baking in old family kitchens.

But this village had its own unique tradition, one that set it apart from the glittering cities and quaint holiday fairs elsewhere. Here, Christmas wasn't just about warmth and cheer, it carried a shadow, a reverence for the old ways—

both enchanting and a little haunting.

When winter arrived and snow blanketed the wooden rooftops, the young people who had left for the city always hurried back to their childhood homes. So did you. This year, you came earlier than most, arriving in November to help at your family’s bakery. The holiday season brought plenty of special orders, far too much for your grandmother’s old hands to handle alone.

As your hands kneaded the cookie dough behind the counter, your mind was heavy with thoughts and debates. The life you’d built back in the States wasn’t bad—a steady job, a cozy apartment near the city center—but as the warmth of this small, close-knit community enveloped you, a cold stone pressed heavily in your chest. Before sinking any deeper, the bell on the door jingled.

"Hello! Welcome to Frost and Flour, how can I help you today?" you greeted with a cheerful smile.

The man—who, no doubt, had to bow his head to fit through the doorframe—returned the smile, his lips barely visible beneath a fluffy green wool scarf.

"Hallo," his voice came out muffled, the words soft behind the thick fabric. Snowflakes clung to his blonde hair, drifting down like sugar crystals. He shook his head with a swift motion, trying to flick them off, and the gesture reminded you of a puppy entering your shop on a snowy day.

You recognized him, yet you couldn't really match the face to the name. He was the son of the lovely, old woman living on your street, Frau Lieder. Unlike her son, who resembled the mountains that surrounded your village rather than a man, Frau Lieder was as delicate as a breeze, tiny as an ant. Even though she was always quiet and humble, she'd always sit upright and proud when talking about her son, the colonel.

"It's not too late to place an order, no?" He spoke, taking his scarf off revealing his red, frozen cheeks.

"No, not at all. Come in, come in!" You encouraged quickly running to the tap to wash your hands off. "It's really freezing outside! Would you like anything warm to drink? Coffee, or tea?"

He shook his head in refusal, but the way his frozen eyelashes trembled seemed to tell a different story. "How about a coffee? I made too much for myself already," you patted your hands dry on the apron.

The man opened his mouth to protest, but you didn’t give him a chance. Gently guiding him to an empty table, you set down the coffee before him and sat down beside him, placing your own cup next to his to ease the tension. He didn’t seem eager to speak, so you attempted to fill the silence, though your words came out a little more forced than usual.

"You came a long way, didn't you? You look like a snowman," you remarked, trying to break the ice.

He only hummed in response, a soft sound, and you hesitated for a moment before pressing on. "Want sugar in your coffee?"

"It's fine like this, thank you," he said, his voice calm but distant.

An awkward silence settled between you both, thick and uncomfortable. He looked tired so you decided to give up. Not everyone wants to chit-chat, you understood that.

"So, what do you want to order?" You got right to the point.

"Oh, Ja... I need two Stollen," he replied.

"Yeah, we can definitely do that," you said, quickly moving into a list of other things you could offer. You kept talking, listing the flavors and sweet treats, drifting in how they were made and why you made them the best. He seemed taken aback by your sudden burst, but after a while, you saw him relax. He leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs comfortably, and took another sip of his coffee, the steam rising around him like a cloud. His icy blue eyes didn’t leave you as you talked, causing your words to spill faster. They were fixed on you with a piercing intensity, scanning your every expression.

"So I think you should really add the chocolate cookies- we also make them vegan if that's the case-"

"That sounds good," he finally said, agreeing to the order. You jotted it down quickly.

"Great choice, I'll throw in some samples of the others as well!" You grinned, excited for people to try your new recipes.

The cups were filled with coffee still. You lingered as much as you could, writing as to avert his eyes. What's up with people with blue eyes and staring like that? You could still feel his gaze on you as you re-read the same 5 items for the thousandth time.

You shifted in your seat, unsure of what to do with yourself. He seemed to notice, and you caught the glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

"Something wrong?" he asked, his voice laced with a playful tease.

You swallowed, trying to regain your composure. "No, just... not used to quiet customers," you murmured, avoiding his gaze.

He hummed, just as you were accustomed. You stood up quickly, feeling the need to escape the weight of the silence, and found something to occupy yourself behind the counter, fiddling with a few stray utensils. The soft clink of ceramic was the only sound until, after a moment, he spoke. "You going to the Christmas fest tonight?" His voice was low, almost secretive.

"Yeah, so excited," you replied with a laugh, grateful for the change in topic. "It’s the reason I came all this way!"

"Me too," he said solemnly, and something familiar downed on you. That’s when it hit you. "You're the one dressing as Krampus, aren't you?" you exclaimed, a bit too eagerly.

The surprise on his face was brief, quickly replaced by an expression that matched your own newfound curiosity. "I—I remember you," you added, turning to face him, a rush of memories flooding back. "Last year, I brought my younger sister too—you stole her and lifted her up in the air—swinging her around. She loved it so much."

"Ah, seems like I did a shit job—kids are supposed to be afraid of me," he chuckled.

You thought about the scary outfit he'll wear tonight, the furs that will coat his big back doubling him in size. How he'll run around, stalking and shouting- you couldn't help but hope he will be chasing you as well.

"Being punished by Krampus sounds pretty good, to be honest—"

You caught yourself too late, the words already hanging awkwardly between you. Maybe if you played dead, he’d just walk away, pretend nothing happened. You refused to acknowledge what you’d said, refusing to even glance at him. Faking a heart attack or any kind of medical emergency sounded plausible—anything to escape the tension creeping up your spine. The silence stretched on, thick and uncomfortable.

You opened your mouth but no words came out.

A Christmas miracle happened right in that moment as an elderly customer entered the shop.

"Welcome to Frost and Flour! How can I help you?" You beamed without skipping a beat, grateful you didn't have to start choking or throw yourself on the floor.

As you listened to the customer and answered his questions, you felt a heavy set of eyes pressing down on your frame. You didn't look at him again, tried really hard not to. He finished his coffee, got up, and left without saying a word. At the last possible moment, the second between the door hitting the frame, his eyes met yours for one last time. And as the door shut with a loud thud, leaving a sudden silence in its wake, you realized you hadn't asked for his name. You looked down at the empty line left at the bottom of his order and wrote:

Krampus.

The sun set down, the sky turned from blue to orange and back to blue again. You had met with some friends at the small Christmas market, wandering around the little wooden shops that lined the square. Laughter and chatter filled the chilly air as you and your friends picked up festive Christmas toys, nibbled on gingerbread, and sipped warm drinks. The air was alive with the sound of the Christmas choir, their voices drifting through the market and adding a touch of magic to the evening.

As time passed and the night grew darker, the atmosphere shifted. The carolers’ songs faded and adults began to gather around the tables, glasses in hand. It wasn’t long before Krampuses started appearing, stalking through the crowd. The sound of children screaming and running to their parents echoed through the square, while some men pretended to be brave, stepping forward to protect their girlfriends. You couldn’t help but laugh as some of your friends found themselves the prey of a particularly mischievous Krampus, who chased them with exaggerated growls, making the whole scene feel like a playful dance between fear and festivity.

"What's wrong?" Your friend asked through laughter. "Come on, why they long face?"

You suddenly became aware of your thoughtful expression and quickly excused yourself. You had been thinking about your Krampus- both embarrassed and hopeful to see him again. "You better cheer up soon, or the krampus will get you!" Another friend teased.

The air was suddenly filled with the deep, resonant thud of drums, each beat like a heartbeat pounding through the square. A group of men pushed their way through the crowd, their rhythmic movements sharp and precise, their boots striking the cobblestones with deliberate thuds. Their dance was primal and hypnotic, an echo of something ancient and untamed. Behind them, two towering Krampuses loomed, their enormous cowbells clanging with a deafening ring that sent shivers through the crowd. Draped in heavy, fur-lined cloaks that swayed with each step, their grotesque masks twisted into demonic faces that seemed to leer at anyone who dared to meet their gaze. The crowd recoiled instinctively, a ripple of nervous laughter and gasps breaking the tension as the Krampuses stalked forward, commanding both fear and awe.

The main drummer, the same one who had parted the crowd in two, struck his drum with a horrendous bang that swallowed all other noise. In unison, the crowd fell silent, their collective breath caught in their chests. Yet, despite the stillness, a distant rhythm lingered in the air—a pulsing thrum that echoed: the rapid, heavy pounding of every heart present.

Thud!

The crowed took a step back in anticipation as the Krampuses looked around hungrily.

Thud! Thud!

The beats served as a count down, a warning and threat before the krampuses will be set free. You were too mesmerized by the show that you haven't realized you were being watched.

Thud! Thud! THUD!

That's when you noticed the taller monster staying still, focusing on you. Shivers creeped unbidden down your spine, cold and sharp, leaving goosebumps as they passed. Your stomach plummeted, a hollow, twisting ache of dread settling deep within you, even before your gaze met his. You didn’t need to see his eyes to recognize it was him—undeniably, inescapably him.

The rhythmic pounding of the drums grew faster, more frantic, but the meaning escaped you, lost in the haze of your thoughts. Blurred figures rushed past, their panicked shouts blending into something you barely registered. Shoulders slammed into you, hands shoved, voices screamed, everything—the chaos, the fear, the blinding motion—blurred and faded, except for that mask. That awful, looming mask. Its hollow gaze pinned you in place, your focus narrowing until it was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Then, like the sharp crack of a pin dropping onto glass, the veil lifted. The muffled roars of the crowd became deafening, the banging and fireworks thundered in your ears, and the swell of scared people pressed against you, pulling you back into reality.

Run.

The word tore through your mind, an instinct louder than the drums, louder than the crazy fantasies you had. Run. You have to run.

The adrenaline hit you in full force, blood pumping hot through your veins as your feet pounded against the uneven ground. The small, twisted streets were making it harder for you, but you didn’t dare look back—you didn’t need to. You knew he was there. You could feel it, like a cold breath on the back of your neck.

You knew in the moment you broke eye contact, the second your body shifted to flee, he was already moving. His feet swept through the mud, closing the distance with the precision of a predator. He wasn’t chasing—you realized, with a spike of fear—he was hunting.

Exhaustion hit you hard, your breath coming in ragged gasps as your legs felt like lead, slowing to a near halt. Your body begged for rest, and you made the mistake of glancing over your shoulder. The street was empty—silent. No sign of him, nothing but the faint echo of your own heavy breathing. As you huffed in relief, grateful for the brief moment of peace, a hand clamped down on your waist, and another shot up to cover your mouth, muffling the scream you let out instinctively.

It all happened so fast, the way he grabbed you and spun you on his shoulder as if you weighted nothing. He ran away with you through the crowds, some people cheered and others ran away in fear of being the next victim. He ran past the crowds, past the houses and the gardens. The snow was getting higher and the lights were getting dimmer as the two of you strayed further from the towns fest.

No matter how much you screamed or how many questions you'd ask, he'd remain silent, eyes straight ahead not minding you at all.

"Please, stop! Put me down!" you begged for what felt like the hundredth time.

This time, he paused. With a grunt, he hurled you onto the snow-covered ground, your body colliding with the icy surface.

"You make so much noise," he growled, his voice low and rough. "I wonder how much louder you can get."

You stumbled onto your feet but the slippery ground betrayed you as you slipped again. Above you, the massive figure loomed, his imposing horns casting jagged shadows across the snow.

Your eyes were getting watery and your lip began to tremble. You were scared- your heart thumping and body trembling, that was fear. But the excitement that grew in your stomach and the urge to rub your legs against each other were something else entirely.

"Please," you whispered as a last plea, curling up as to make yourself as small as possible.

"Don't play dumb with me, little one. You deserve to be punished, you'll take what I'll give you and say thank you," he said.

Your eyes moved frantically from his mask to his muddy boots, then up his legs to the hard erection visible through his black pants before meeting the black holes where eyes were supposed to be.

"Please," you cried out doe eyed not sure what you were begging for.

The beast fell to his knees with a heavy sound making you flinch. You tried to push yourself further, but his strong hand grabbed at your ankle harshly. He dragged you by the foot, your skirt rising up as your ass slided on the cold snow. He let go of your leg, hand moving to your inner knee, slowly dragging his nails up your thigh.

"So sensitive," he coes when your skin reacts so eagerly to his touch. You instinctively grabbed at his hand which hovered above your panties. He paused his movement, seemingly amused at your attempt. "Go on," he leaned closer, covering your body with his own, the mask mere inches from your face. "Fight back," he breathed out a threat. "Try and fight me off, little lamb."

His hand slapped your clothed pussy, the weak attempt at a stopping him completly ignored. You let out a loud moan at the sudden feeling of pain.

His calloused hand started rubbing up and down the thin fabric. The daunting realization of how wet being hunted down like pray made you hit you as the panties became drenched.

"Aren't you ashamed?" He teased, fiddling with the zipper of his pants, tugging them just enough to free his large cock. "Being violated gets you this wet, Schatz?"

You whimper and squirm trying to get away from his touch, thriwing your hands at him- scratching and grabbing at his horns and neck.

Pathetic. That’s the only word for it. You know you’re not trying to escape or fight back. No, you’re just edging him on, hoping he'll snap and take out all his built up anger on you.

He easily grabs your wrists in one rapid motion. No matter how much you'd try, pulling with your whole body and then some, his grip would effortlessly stay the same.

"I'm going to fuck you," he announced pinning your hands above your head with one hand. "You will cry and scream and plead- and you will swallow every inch I give you."

He pulled your panties to the side placing his angry tip at the entrance. In the dead of night, under the midnight sky the lewd, wet sound of his dick spreading your juices was so loud.

No waiting, he pushed himself inside your throbbing cunt splitting you open.

"F-Fuck," you plead. "T-Too big, 's too big!" Your gummy walls stretch around his girth, causing your to choke in pain. The resistance slowly fades away as your cunt leaks more with every shallow thrust as he fills you up in ways you've never thought were possible.

"You can take it," he hissed, allowing you to adjust to his size. His cock was throbbing inside of you, pulsating eagerly. "You feel that? Feel what you do to me? I'm so hard for you, Schatz. Don't you wanna make me feel good?"

"Agh~," you cry out as you feel more of his size slipping inside your wet cunt. He let's go of his tight grip bringing one of your hands down to your stomach. His hand on top of yours as he's bullying his cock inside you. You feel him moving, the buldge in your stomach rising and lowering in sync with his thrusts. He growled loudly as you spammed around his dick so soon, moaning loudly and rolling your eyes in the back of your head, finally allowing him complete access as you cum on his fat cock.

"You're the tightest cunt I've fucked in a long time," he said bringing his hands on your hips angling you slightly better. His balls were hanging on your ass and his tip was pushing twords your womb.

If you could think straight, you'd be embarrassed of cumming just from being filled, of the moans and gasps you made with every inch he gave you. But the warmth of the village is distant and the ground behind your back is freezing, you need him- his warmth- to keep the cold from swallowing you whole.

Through teary eyes, you look at him. The faint light spilling from the village clings to his mask and coat, tracing his silhouette in an otherworldly glow, as if he were carved from shadow and firelight. He is no longer just a man draped in beast's clothes;

And yet, his gaze lingers on you, heavy and unreadable, somewhere between a silent threat or solemn apology.

It started slowly, dragging his member out then pushing it back in with slightly more forced than before. Your whole body was pressed deeper into the ground, head bobbling to his increasing rhythm.

One if his hands reached up to your chest, cupping one of your breast through the cotton material of your dress, the other digging into the side of your hip. He found your hardend nipple with ease, rubbing it between his fingers. He'd pinch and drag them only to see them bounce more viciously.

"Shush," he'd scold through heavy breaths. "If you keep moaning like that people will hear you. They'll see you spread wide getting your pussy stuffed, is that what you want?"

When his words were only getting you more riled up, he'd let go of your hips moving it to your loud mouth. He fell onto of you, his heavy body crushing your smaller frame, one hand desperately pulling at your tits while the other pressing hard on your mouth. He pounded into you like a man starved, abusing your needy hole.

You looked so pretty right now, your Krampus thought behind his mask. Your face was flushed, your eyelashes sticking together from tears. Strands of hair, damp from the snow melting behind you, clung to your face, yet your eyes were hazed with pleasure. He got you like this, so pathetic and cock drunk. You tried to say something but your words were muffled.

"Shut up, just a little- a little longer longer-," he sounded desperate, a change in his steady demeanor. "You'll take all I give you, every last drop of cum- Fuck- I'll pump you full of cum, you horny bitch," he groand against your neck, thrusting into you deeper than before.

He fucked you through his orgasm, cock twitching and slaming hot cum inside your cunt, a white ring foaming where your body met.

He fucked you through your orgasm, his dick barelling into you making sure you won't spill a drop of this gift he had given you.

Your legs were shaking around him, hands dirty and tired from clawing at the ground. His chest rumbled against your own.

After he pulled out, he shoved his fingers in its place- pushing his cum deep into you. You'd lick them clean afterwards, after he pulled you back on your feet. Your eyes tried to find his behind the devil mask, as his fingers explored your mouth.

You didn't.

The night didn’t feel as cold as before, the stars no longer just wishes in the sky, but silent witnesses to everything that had unfolded. You didn’t dare move, or speak—not before he would at least. You tensed, waiting for words that never came, as he grabbed you with an eerie calm, lifting you once more, just as he had in the beginning

[dreamdragonkadia]

Christmas in New York, Christmas in ne- p. jackson x reader

Had this been your goal? No. But were you complaining? Absolutely not.

There was something undeniably magical about celebrating Christmas in New York—especially with Percy and his family. The city was always alive this time of year, its chaotic energy softened by snow-covered streets and glittering lights. Even the subway, usually filled with cranky commuters, seemed to carry a little extra cheer, or maybe that was just the hot chocolate in your hands and Percy’s arm around your shoulders.

Of course, your own mortal family hadn’t been thrilled when you told them you wouldn’t be home for Christmas again this year. Disappointed? Yes. But you’d made a deal with them years ago: Thanksgiving and the Fourth of July were theirs, and Christmas and New Year’s belonged to Percy and his family. Honestly, it was a pretty fair arrangement considering how hectic things could get in the demigod world. The monsters never took holidays off, after all, and neither did you or Percy.

Still, you felt a little guilty about missing the classic chaos of your family Christmas—your little cousins screaming about Santa’s arrival, your grandmother burning something in the oven while swearing under her breath, and your mom insisting you take enough leftovers to feed an army. That guilt had been softened somewhat, though, when Sally and Paul dropped their bombshell:

“We’ve been thinking about moving to the West Coast,” Sally had announced over dinner one night, smiling like she knew exactly how much drama she was about to cause.

The words had hung in the air for a moment, heavy with implications. You and Percy had frozen mid-bite, twin forks hovering like awkward statues.

“Wait, what?” Percy had spluttered.

“To be closer to you two,” Paul explained calmly, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “It just makes sense, especially after the engagement.”

You still got butterflies thinking about it—the engagement. Even the word felt surreal. It hadn’t been that long ago that you’d been fighting for your lives on quests together, and now you were planning forever. Sally had cried when Percy told her, wrapping you both in hugs so tight you thought you’d never escape.

Now, here you were, bundled up against the cold as you stood with Percy on the balcony of his mom’s apartment. The skyline stretched before you, lights twinkling like little frozen stars. Somewhere down the street, someone was playing a slightly off-key version of “Jingle Bells” on a trumpet, and Percy was grinning like he could feel the joy in the air.

“The only negative to it would be no more this,” you said softly, blowing out a long breath just to watch it turn to mist in the cold air.

Percy turned to look at you, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. “No more what?”

You gestured vaguely toward the city, your face half-hidden behind your scarf. “The noise. The lights. The people yelling at cab drivers. It’s kind of our thing, you know? New York at Christmas.”

He chuckled, stepping closer until he could press a kiss to your temple. “I’m pretty sure cab drivers yell year-round. Not just at Christmas.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips. “You know what I mean.”

He nodded, gaze flicking out to the skyline. “Yeah, I do. It’s weird to think about Mom and Paul moving out there. Feels like the end of an era or something.”

“Almost,” you teased. “But hey, they’d be close enough for both families to celebrate together. Think about it—my mom’s turkey and your mom’s blue cookies in one place. Worlds colliding.”

Percy laughed, the sound warming you more than any amount of layers could. “You mean my mom would finally have an excuse to out-bake your mom. She’s been planning that showdown for years.”

“That’s just because you hype her up too much,” you said, nudging his shoulder playfully.

“It’s not hype if it’s true.”

You rolled your eyes again, but this time Percy caught your hand, tugging you closer until you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back. You leaned into him instinctively, savoring the quiet moment between the two of you. The city was loud, but somehow it always felt quieter when you were with him.

“You know,” Percy murmured after a beat, his voice soft, “it wouldn’t really matter where we were. Whether it’s New York or the West Coast or—who knows—Mount Olympus someday, as long as you’re there…”

You tilted your head back to look at him, brow raised. “Mount Olympus? Really?”

He grinned, sheepish. “Okay, maybe not Olympus. But you get what I mean.”

And you did. Because no matter where you ended up—whether surrounded by skyscrapers or staring out at the Pacific Ocean—you’d be home, as long as Percy was by your side.

You squeezed his hand in yours and looked back out at the city. Somewhere below, a group of kids was laughing and chasing each other, their shouts echoing up to you. Snow had started to fall again, tiny flecks catching in Percy’s hair, and you couldn’t resist reaching up to brush a few away.

“Let’s make the most of it while we’re here, then,” you said softly. “One more New York Christmas, just in case.”

Percy smiled, leaning down to kiss you gently. “Deal.”

Everything was perfect—the snow, the city, the warmth of Percy’s arms around you. Maybe you hadn’t planned for any of this, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[rose24207]

Heyyy! Could i please request Lando x reader who’s drunk (i’m totally not). Just smth like she’s at home on Christmas drinking and he has to take care of her. Love your fics

Mistletoe and mayhem

Summary: Lando comes home to find you tipsy on Christmas Eve, takes care of your chaotic but endearing antics, and tucks you in with a smile.

Genre: fluff, Humor

TW: wine drunk

A/N: thank you for the request! Sorry it took so long. English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

The faint sound of Christmas music played in the background as Lando stepped into your shared flat. He was balancing a few bags in his hands, filled with last-minute Christmas snacks and the cheeky gift he’d picked up for you—a stuffed reindeer holding a heart-shaped candy cane.

“Babe, I’m home!” he called out, toeing off his sneakers at the door. The flat smelled faintly of cinnamon, like the candle you always burned during the holidays.

A clink of glass followed by your giggle caught his attention, and his brow furrowed as he headed toward the living room. The sight that greeted him was nothing short of chaotic Christmas cheer.

You were sprawled on the couch, wearing his oversized McLaren hoodie and festive socks with tiny bells that jingled every time you moved your feet. On the coffee table were an assortment of half-eaten gingerbread cookies and an empty bottle of red wine.

“Oh, hey, Lando!” you slurred, raising a hand like you’d just noticed him, even though he was standing a few feet away. Your eyes were glassy, and your cheeks were flushed—a telltale sign of too much wine. “Merry Chrisssstmas!”

“It’s not even Christmas yet,” he said with a chuckle, setting the bags down and walking over to you.

“Technicality,” you said, waving him off dramatically. “It’s Christmas season, and I’m celebrating!”

“You’ve been celebrating alone?” he teased, sitting beside you.

You pointed a finger at him, your expression suddenly serious. “Don’t judge me. You were gone,” you said with exaggerated sadness. “So I decided to have a lil’ party with…with…” You glanced at the empty bottle. “Cabernet Sauvignon.”

Lando stifled a laugh. “Looks like you and Cabernet got pretty cozy.”

You nodded, leaning against him. “You smell like outside,” you muttered. “It’s cold outside.”

“It is cold. But you’re warm,” he said, wrapping an arm around you. “How much have you had to drink, babe?”

“Uhh…” You squinted, holding up your hand and wiggling your fingers like you were trying to count but gave up midway. ��Enough.”

Shaking his head fondly, Lando kissed the top of your head. “Alright, come on. Let’s get some water in you before you pass out on me.”

You pouted. “I’m fine. You’re ruining my vibe.”

“I’m ruining your vibe?” he repeated, laughing.

“Yes! I was having a moment. It was like…me, the wine, the twinkly lights…” You gestured at the Christmas tree, which was slightly lopsided because you insisted on decorating it without him. “It was magical.”

“Well, let’s keep the magic alive,” he said, gently guiding you to sit up. “Drink some water for me, okay?”

You grumbled but accepted the glass he handed you. “You’re bossy when you’re sober.”

“And you’re extra sassy when you’re drunk,” he shot back, his lips quirking into a grin.

As you sipped the water, you tilted your head to look at him, your expression softening. “You’re cute, though. Did you know that? Like, stupid cute. It’s annoying.”

Lando laughed, his cheeks reddening slightly. “Thanks, I guess?”

“You’re welcome.” You leaned closer, your breath warm against his neck. “You smell good, too. Like…pine trees. And…cookies?”

“I might’ve had a cookie in the car,” he admitted, chuckling.

“Rude. Didn’t save me one.”

“Babe, there’s literally an entire plate of them in front of you,” he said, gesturing to the coffee table.

“Oh, yeah.” You picked up a gingerbread man and bit its head off with dramatic flair. “He’s tasty.”

“Poor guy didn’t stand a chance,” Lando joked, shaking his head.

As the night went on, he managed to coax you into drinking more water and eating something other than cookies. By the time you started to doze off on his shoulder, your festive socks still jingling faintly, Lando couldn’t help but smile.

“Merry almost-Christmas, love,” he whispered, pulling a blanket over you.

You stirred slightly, mumbling, “Merry…whatever,” before falling back into a peaceful, wine-induced sleep.

Thank you for reading!

[girl-next-door-writes]

Worth It

Characters: Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: Steve Harrington always thought Christmas parties were a little overrated—until he met you. Between a crowded room, stolen glances, and one unexpected act of heroism, Steve discovers that some things are worth every awkward moment and every bruise.

Word Count: 1191 words

Prompts: Crowded Party. First Kiss. Protective/taking a punch.

A/N: This is for @mayhem24-7forever and I have LOVED writing my boy Steve.

The house was alive with the chaotic hum of a Christmas party in full swing. Bright lights twinkled from every corner, illuminating clashing reds, greens, and golds. Mismatched decorations were strung across the ceiling like a child had been let loose with tinsel. Steve Harrington took one look at the packed living room and sighed.

Why did I come here again?

The answer arrived in the form of you, laughing as you squeezed past two tipsy partygoers who were attempting to dance to Wham!’s Last Christmas. Your cheeks were flushed, eyes sparkling with a mix of holiday cheer and exasperation. You carried two red plastic cups, balancing them like precious cargo.

“Steve!” Your face lit up when you spotted him, relief bubbling up as you wove your way through the crowd with the grace of someone who’d done this before. The room was warm, buzzing with laughter, but you only had eyes for him.

Steve straightened up from where he was leaning against the doorway, his hand brushing through his hair as if smoothing it down. “Hey, you made it out alive,” he teased, flashing you one of his signature smiles—crooked just enough to be disarming.

You rolled your eyes as you handed him a cup. “Barely. I’m convinced this party is 50% people and 50% fire hazards.”

Steve chuckled, accepting the drink. “I believe it. I’m just waiting for the Christmas tree to catch fire at this point.”

You laughed, loud and clear above the noise, and Steve felt his heart skip in a way that it definitely shouldn’t. He blamed it on the season. Christmas was a time for dumb romantic comedies and questionable life choices—he wasn’t immune to either.

“I’m glad you came, though,” you said, and Steve turned to look at you. Your voice was softer now, almost drowned out by the music, but it hit him like a jingle bell to the head.

“Yeah?” he asked, suddenly forgetting how words worked.

“Yeah,” you replied, sipping your drink and shooting him a grin. “Who else would keep me company while I try not to burn alive in this sardine can?”

Steve smirked, trying to play it cool while his heart did backflips. “Happy to be of service.”

Somewhere between people spilling eggnog and someone (Eddie, of course) starting an impromptu karaoke session, Steve found himself in a corner of the kitchen with you. The two of you had slowly drifted there after deciding that the dance floor wasn’t worth risking an elbow to the face. The hum of the party felt quieter here, and for once, Steve didn’t mind missing out on the centre of attention.

“So, what’s your verdict?” you asked, leaning against the counter.

Steve blinked. “Verdict on what?”

“Christmas parties. Are they worth the hype?” You tilted your head, smiling mischievously.

Steve pretended to think about it, pursing his lips. “I don’t know. The jury’s still out. I’m starting to think they’re only good for people-watching and free drinks.”

You gasped in mock horror. “You mean you don’t love being crammed into a room with 50 strangers, half of whom are sweaty?”

“Shocking, I know.” Steve grinned.

You snorted, trying to hide your laugh behind your hand. “Okay, fine. What would make this party worth it for you?”

Steve shifted under your gaze, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you were. The twinkle lights reflected in your eyes, and for the first time that night, he wasn’t sure if the warmth in his chest was from the crowded room or you.

“Hmm,” Steve started slowly, his voice quieter than before. “I think… I think the company makes or breaks it.”

Your lips parted slightly, caught off guard. “Oh.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes. Did I just say that out loud?

“Steve,” you said softly, and he glanced back up to find you looking at him like you were trying to figure him out.

“Uh, anyway,” Steve stammered, desperate to steer the conversation somewhere else, anywhere else. “How’s your drink?”

You just smiled, and Steve knew he was toast.

Time passed by in a blur and it happened faster than Steve could process.

One moment, you were laughing at Eddie’s butchered rendition of Jingle Bell Rock. The next, some guy—a little too drunk, a little too loud—stumbled into your space.

“Hey, sweetheart,” the stranger slurred, leaning a little too close for comfort.

Your smile fell. “Uh, excuse me?”

“Don’t be like that,” he continued, grinning in a way that made Steve’s blood boil. Before you could say another word, Steve stepped forward, his hand landing firmly on the guy’s shoulder.

“Hey, buddy,” Steve said, voice sharp and steady. “Why don’t you back off?”

The guy blinked, swaying as he looked Steve up and down. “What’s your problem, pretty boy?”

Steve barely had time to react before the guy shoved him. Hard.

Steve stumbled back, catching himself against the wall. The party seemed to pause for a heartbeat—a moment of tension strung tight like a bowstring. And then, before he knew what he was doing, Steve was moving forward again.

“I said,” Steve repeated, his tone darker now, “back off.”

The guy took a swing, sloppier than Steve expected. Steve ducked, but the fist still grazed his jaw with enough force to sting. Before the stranger could try again, Eddie and Garreth swooped in, dragging him toward the door with muttered apologies.

The crowd slowly dispersed, the moment slipping back into party normalcy, but you were still staring at Steve.

“Steve!” You stepped closer, your hand grazing his cheek. “Are you okay? He hit you!”

Steve winced at the sting but gave you a lopsided grin. “Nah, it’s fine. I’ve had worse.”

“Worse? That doesn’t make this okay!” You frowned, your thumb brushing over the faint red mark. Steve swore his heart stopped.

“It was worth it,” Steve blurted, his voice softer now.

You blinked up at him. “What?”

“I mean… you shouldn’t have to deal with guys like that.” Steve shifted under your gaze, his cheeks turning pink. “It’s… worth it, y’know? Keeping you safe.”

You didn’t say anything for a long moment, and Steve was ready to kick himself. Way to sound like an absolute sap, Harrington.

And then you smiled. Really smiled. “You’re kind of an idiot, you know that?”

Steve blinked. “Wait, what?”

Before he could say another word, you leaned up on your toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, right where the bruise was forming.

Steve froze.

“Merry Christmas, Steve,” you whispered, pulling back just enough to meet his wide eyes.

He stared at you, stunned, before finally managing to speak. “Did… did you just..?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you looped your arm through his. “Come on, hero. Let’s find some ice for that face of yours.”

Steve let himself be pulled along, a goofy grin spreading across his face. For once, he didn’t care about the bruise, the party, or the crowd. The warmth in his chest wasn’t from the holiday lights or the crowded room—it was from you.

And honestly? It was totally worth it.

[bring-forth-his-sac]

The Christmas Party - Chapter 6

summary: The Christmas Party is nearly here and while setting up decorations, Negan has other plans...

tags: Modern AU, Teacher AU, Gossip, Swearing, Pet Names, Slow Burn, Alcohol Consumption, Flirting

word count: 5.9k

check out the previous part here!

It’s strange how much can change in just a week. Seven days ago, the mere sight of Negan was enough to make your stomach turn. Everything about him annoyed you. From his smirk to his little quips, to how his eyes would follow you. Everything!  

And from the way he had abandoned you at that Target parking lot, it was clear he felt the same. But here you are now, a week later, and things are just… different.

Wednesday morning goes by in a flash. When you aren’t trying to get your students to focus, you’re jotting down decoration ideas for the sports hall or texting Negan to arrange times to meet.

Only on professional business, per usual.

Although you have so much sorted for the party, everything still feels like a frantic blur. Other teachers talk to you about last minute presents they can’t track down. Meanwhile, the kids are practically counting down the minutes, each one trying to power through the day just to get a little closer to the holiday break. 

No one wants to be here and yet you’re all stuck in school for a few more days; one last push before freedom.

A rhythmic knock echoes at the classroom door, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Without waiting for a response, Carol pokes her head in, a bright smile on her face. Some kids meet her look with big grins of their own, completely buying into her happy-go-lucky persona.

You give her a smile too but you know when she’s putting up a front.

You have most of your students writing stories, giving them a page quota and letting their imaginations run wild. None of them are doing it though, too busy chatting with friends, sneakily going on their phones and asking you to play Christmas music.

“Hi!” Carol greets you, throwing a quick glance behind her to make sure the students are too busy chatting to pay attention. 

Clearing her throat, she hovers by the edge of your desk and whispers “I see you didn’t take my advice”.

Your eyebrows knit together and you pull your chair closer to her. “What? What advice?” You question, tone full of curiosity. 

“When I told you to keep your head down and just plan the party, I didn’t mean put your head down on Negan’s thing!”.

You almost blurt out a string of “What’s,” “No’s,” and “As if’s,” but you catch yourself just in time, not wanting to draw the attention of your students. Instead your mouth just opens, a strangled sound of what could be a scoff coming out. 

“I haven’t been anywhere near his thing!” You quietly protest “Negan and I are just working on the party, nothing more, nothing less!”.

The look on her face says she doesn’t believe you. “So you just like sending each other pictures? Nothing physical?” Carol asks pointedly, making you feel like a student getting reprimanded. 

As subtly as you can, you throw your hands up “Ok, so this is all coming from Sherry and the dick pic rumor?”.

Jingle Bell Rock starts playing down the other side of the class and you have to quickly remind Enid not to play it too loud before turning back to Carol. 

She looks at you with her arms crossed “Yes, Sherry mentioned pictures but also, it’s a little obvious with how Negan’s acting”.

You raise your eyebrows at that, waiting for her to continue.

“Do you know what I walked into today when I went into the teacher's lounge?” she asks, her voice taking on a dramatic tone “Negan, laughing with Eugene”.

She lets the words hang in the air, revealing it like the twist in a horror story, expecting you to react the way she clearly wants.

“I don’t think I follow…” you admit truthfully.

Carol sighs, looking like she’s about to pick up a book and try to knock some sense into you. “Negan was laughing with Eugene,” she repeats “not laughing at Eugene, like he normally does”.

You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting the smirk that’s desperate to break free. “Maybe he’s finally found the meaning of Christmas?” you suggest, offering up an explanation.

Carol doesn’t appreciate the joke. 

“He’s different, I’ll give you that,” she says, her gaze locking with yours. It’s not a glare, but an intense stare that makes you feel like she’s trying to drill her words into you, as if she needs you to understand now more than ever. 

“But he’s still Negan. And Negan will do what he always does, chase skirts and try to get laid” she continues.

You purse your lips, torn. You don’t want to defend Negan, especially when Carol is technically right. But you also know there’s more to him than what she sees. You opt to stay quiet.

“If you show him interest then he’ll sniff around you for a while but he’ll get bored or realise you’re not interested in doing things at his pace, and that’s when he’ll vanish,” Carol gives you the harsh truth “He’s not going to chase after you when you rebuff him or eventually give into him. Either way, you’re not winning”.

It almost makes your mood falter, the harsh reality check of who Negan is. But then you remind this is just her perspective, shaped by the rumors she’s heard and the small glimpses she’s caught.

Carol hasn’t seen him getting dodgeballs hurled at him or witnessed Negan falling on his ass while ice skating. There’s a different side to him that you’re more privy to.

And so you shrug nonchalantly “Alright, I’ll keep that in mind”.

“Keep it in mind?” Carol repeats, her voice laced with a thin edge of disbelief. She has a talent for making every answer you give sound like the wrong one.

With a sigh, she adds “Oh, he has you wrapped around his finger and you don’t even know it”.

Sticking to your story, you calmly reply “Negan’s just a friend, that’s it. I get that he has this… charisma but that doesn’t mean I’m interested in him”.

Carol keeps her face neutral, her eyes studying you like she can detect if you’re lying. “Sure, if you say so,” she cautiously concedes “but that’s not the impression everyone else is getting”.

You let out a long groan, putting your head in your hands.

“But I’ll drop it,” she quickly says as you groan “…but if something happens, I called it first”.

“Carol!” You exclaim before looking around at the busy students “Um, I mean, Ms Peletier!”.

She chuckles at your quick correction. With a final glance, she heads toward the door. “I’m just looking out for you. Don’t say I didn’t warn you�� her words hang in the air and before you can respond, she disappears out the door.

As your classes go on, Carol’s words echo in your head. No matter how much you try to push it away or deem it ridiculous, it lingers. 

You know Negan. You’ve been on his good side and his bad side and yet, you’re still here. You’ve got it all under control.

There’s no crush, no hidden feelings lurking in the corners of your mind and most definitely no secret hook ups or nudes being sent. 

By the time you get to visit Negan, your lingering thoughts are replaced by nervous fretting about the party. 

You already gave him the heads up that you wanted him up a ladder and putting up the tinsel and lights you had bought. But in true Negan fashion, by the time you get to visit the sports hall, he isn’t the one up a ladder.

“Carl, I know you’re just fucking with me now,” he has his hands on his hips, not even holding the ladder “just tape the lights up there! It doesn’t have to look all fancy!”.

“I know,” the tense voice of his student retorts.

“You know? Then why the fuck are you doing a ‘will they, won’t they’ routine with lights and tinsel?” Negan barks out before remembering how an essential part of hand-eye coordination just so happens to be eyesight. 

“Y’know what, just come down and I’ll get my own ass up there” he sighs, practically slapping his hand off his forehead. 

“Looks like I came just in time,” you speak up, alerting Negan to your presence. He looks back with a smile, sizing you up and down. 

Gesturing to the ladder, he asks “Why, you gonna volunteer?”.

“Nope but I’ll hold the ladder for you,” you offer. Walking over, you wait until Carl’s feet touch the ground before giving him a grateful smile for trying. 

Negan steps up next, turning back to his class and ordering them to start moving some tables in here and to pretty them up with tinsel.

“Hope ya don’t mind I got started without ya,” Negan grunts as he begins his ascent up, lights wrapped around one arm and tape in the other.

You hold the ladder steady, purposefully not looking up. 

“It’s fine,” you reply “but won’t the decorations get in the way of your classes tomorrow?”. 

Glancing around, you see Negan’s class fully focused on the mission at hand; some are following his orders and lifting in tables, two are racing up and down as they sweep the floors, others make paper chains and snowflakes with what they can find, hanging them up on the walls.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Negan steadies himself at the top of the ladder “if the weather’s fine tomorrow, I’ll have them run laps outside”.

Through a series of huffs and grunts, you can only assume Negan is getting the lights and tinsel to stay. You hear strips of tape being tore off, the rustling of the tinsel and then… whistling?

You look up. How could you not look up when he’s deciding now is a great time to whistle?

But it’s a trap. 

Grinning down at you, Negan lets out a dark chuckle. “Look at you appreciating the view” he teases. Instantly averting your eyes, you make an act of putting your hand up to shield him from your view. 

“Asshole” you mumble just loud enough for only him to hear. You get a chuckle in response before Negan goes back to work.

“So if the hall’s going to be done by the end of the day, what’re we supposed to do tomorrow?” You ask.

“We got a special job tomorrow,” Negan says vaguely “we’re getting domestic”.

He purposely makes you wait until he’s done taping up the lights and tinsel before revealing more “Dear ol’Jesus— the school counselor, not the other one, has made a donation to our cause”.

“Is that so?” You allow yourself to look up at him once he starts his descent down, meeting him with a skeptical look when he’s off the ladder.

“Yup,” he smirks, tongue peeking out of his mouth as he revels in your reaction “we got a Christmas tree to put up!”.

“What?!” Is the only thing you can manage to say, your brain struggling to catch up with the absurdity of the situation.

Negan nods “He gave us a tree, balls to hang off it, a fuckin’ star for the top”.

You blink at him in disbelief. “First off, they’re called baubles, not balls,” you correct him, but even as you say it, you’re still trying to process the entire scenario “And second… just— what?”.

Negan tilts his head, his smirk never fading “I know but balls are better, and I raise your what to a what the fuck”.

“Well, why don’t we put it up now? Or after school if you’re free” you suggest, trying to keep the momentum going.

Negan sighs, shaking his head slowly. “Sorry, doll. I got plans… and so do you.”

You furrow your brow. “I do?” you ask.

“Yeah, duh,” he says, his tone impossibly casual, as if the answer should be obvious “it’s my turn to take you on a date”.

You laugh, shaking your head despite appreciating the gesture “Negan, no, you don’t have to do that”.

He raises an eyebrow, leaning in slightly. “Oh, c’mon. You took me out, and you didn’t even expect me to put out,” he winks mischievously “it’s my turn to wine and dine you”.

You hesitate, clearly torn. You want to accept and Negan’s offer is tempting in ways you’re not willing to admit, but you’re not about to let yourself get swept up in whatever this is. 

Carol’s words from early ring out in your head. 

“Well…” you start, fidgeting with your fingers as if the words are stuck in your throat “I don’t think another round of ice skating would be a good idea”.

Negan raises an eyebrow, a sly grin spreading across his face “Who mentioned that? No, no, no, I’m going all out this time”.

You try to keep your voice even, but there’s a part of you that’s already imagining whatever plan he has. You swallow the feeling down, just barely. 

“So… what did you have in mind?”

He leans back, eyes gleaming as he watches you “You said you haven’t been to the Kingdom yet, right?”.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The second you walk through the heavy wooden doors of the Kingdom, you're met with the rich scent of roasted meats and herbs.

The dim lighting casts a golden glow over the room, with flickering candlelight atop sturdy wooden tables, each surrounded by plush velvet chairs.

The walls, lined with dark oak panels, are adorned with tapestries depicting medieval scenes; knights on horseback, feasts in great halls, ancient forests.

As the server leads you through the restaurant, he brings you and Negan to a table near the back. Close by, a stone fireplace crackles softly, the flames dancing in the hearth. 

“Negan, how did you even get a booking here so close to Christmas?” you ask once you’re both alone and left with the menus.

He lets out a stiff laugh “Between you and me, the place had plumbing issues a few years back and I don’t think its reputation ever recovered”.

Your face says it all but Negan quickly reassures you “It’s all sorted now so don’t worry if you need to use the shitter”.

With a playful scoff, you pick up your menu “You can’t say ladies room? Or bathroom?”.

“Oh, well I would be nice and polite if this was a date,” he says it so brazenly with that perfect white smile of his “so, doll, is this a date?”.

You open your mouth to answer when the server comes back over “My dude and dudette! Have we decided on food? Or some drinks to start you off?”.

Giving Negan a quick, playful glare, you turn to the menu and decide on which drinks to have.

The candlelight flickers gently on the table as you order drinks. Since Negan has insisted on driving tonight, you’ve decided to treat yourself to a cocktail, the house special to be exact. Shiva a lá Tigress. 

The buzz of quiet conversations act as background noise, merely there to set the mood.

Negan’s shoulders relax as he leans back in his chair, the deep lines of his face softened by the warm glow of the table. He’s wearing a smile tonight but you don’t doubt that it could become a mischievous smirk within seconds. 

You can’t help but notice the leather jacket that clings to his broad shoulders, the worn material perfectly shaped to his frame. As much as you’re reluctant to admit it, the jacket makes Negan look effortlessly handsome, a perfect combination of rugged and rebellious. 

The conversation flows non-stop, especially since you have your cocktail in front of you. He talks with that charmingly cocky confidence that used to irk you endless but since then, you’ve grown accustomed to it. 

For dinner, you keep your order simple, while Negan goes all out with steak and roasted vegetables. He’s always been partial to something he can sink his teeth into and tonight's no different. 

“So, you heading back home for the holidays?” Negan asks before clarifying “I mean, family home”.

You go to shrug but stop yourself, the question throwing you off guard to the point that you can’t pretend to be nonchalant. “Actually, I was going to stay here for Christmas” you take a sip of your cocktail to distract yourself. 

Negan raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your answer. His smirk softens into something more thoughtful, though it’s hard to tell if he's surprised or just curious.

"Staying here for Christmas, huh?" he repeats, his tone warm but carrying that edge of skepticism only he can manage "No family to visit? No friends back home?".

You can feel his gaze lingering on you, a mix of curiosity and maybe just a hint of concern—though it could just be him enjoying the chance to poke at something unexpected. He swirls his glass of Coke before taking a sip as you debate what to say.

For once, the man is patient.

You can feel the weight of the question. It's not one you expected and that's only one of the reasons it makes you uneasy. Shrugging, you steal a small roast potato off of his plate. 

“I just want some space, I guess,” you bite into the potato before you continue “I want a nice, relaxed Christmas and this is the first time I have an actual excuse not to go back home for Christmas”.

Negan watches you swipe the potato, his lips twitching into an amused grin, but he doesn’t say anything right away.

Instead, he thinks it over, eyes narrowing slightly as he processes your words. When you finish speaking, he lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

"First time with an excuse, huh?" he murmurs, the tone half-wistful, half-knowing. 

"Well, sometimes the holidays aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, you know? Family’s great and all, but... sometimes you just need a break from all the noise” Negan taps the side of his glass thoughtfully "I get that. Hell, I’ve skipped a few of those big family gatherings myself".

He shrugs, his eyes flickering to the plate but you can see he’s not really focused on the food anymore “So, you’re not used to relaxed Christmas’?”. 

You glance up from his plate, finding the question oddly direct but it’s clear he’s genuinely curious now. You take another bite of the potato, chewing slowly before setting it down.

“I don’t think anyone in my family knows how to have a ‘relaxed’ Christmas,” you say with a dry laugh, shrugging “It’s always... loud, busy, everyone trying to outdo each other. Or if it’s not that, it’s just a whole lot of awkward silences and forced smiles”.

You take another bite, letting the quiet settle in for a moment. “I don’t even know if I’d know what to do with myself if I had one of those perfect, calm Christmases you see in movies. Maybe that's why it feels like the right time to just... take a break. For once” you try to explain.

Negan gives a low, thoughtful hum “Yeah, I get that. Sometimes it's easier to just step back, take a breath. No noise, no expectations”.

He leans back in his chair, a little more relaxed now "Maybe that's what Christmas is supposed to be, huh? Just... doing what feels right".

There’s something in his voice—maybe the quiet understanding—that feels like he's speaking from experience, not just making small talk.

“So, what’s Ms. Goody Two-Shoes’s idea of a perfect Christmas?” Negan asks, his grin widening as he throws the playful jab your way.

You giggle at the nickname, shaking your head a little. You pause for a moment, thinking about it. What would a perfect Christmas look like for you? You’re not sure, but one thing’s for sure—it wouldn’t be like the ones from your past. 

“Hmm,” you murmur, tilting your head as you contemplate the question. “Lazing around all day, eating whatever I feel like, and watching Christmas movies on repeat. Sounds like heaven to me”.

Negan raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “The Hallmark ones?” he teases, smirking at the thought of you glued to the TV watching all the over the top, feel good holiday rom-coms.

You laugh again, shaking your head. “No, no. Whatever ones I come across. Doesn’t matter if they’re cheesy or weird or action packed. I’m not picky”.

You take a moment to think about it, the image of you sprawled out in front of a TV playing reruns of Christmas movies filling your mind. “Honestly, I think I just want something... low-key. No pressure to impress anyone, no forced cheer. Just me, snacks and maybe an ugly Christmas sweater”.

Negan’s smile softens, studying you for a second "Yeah, I can see that. No expectations, no drama. Just... doing whatever feels right in the moment. Not a bad way to spend the holidays". 

You can feel the weight of his words and for a second, it almost feels like you’ve stumbled into a little unspoken understanding between you two. But then you remember that this is just two friends having dinner.

There’s nothing more to it. You’re not about to get tangled up in whatever attraction this is. It’s not like Negan is the type of person who does relationships or anything more than a hookup. 

As Carol’s warning from early ring in your head again, you take another sip of cocktail. 

You try to rid your mind of his laugh— genuine and deep, or the glint in his eyes whenever your gaze meet. No, that warmth that makes you want to melt isn’t important. That’s just how everyone feels when they look at their friends! 

…right?

Both your phones go off at the same time, a sharp ping cutting through your drifting thoughts. For a split second, neither of you react, the phones interrupting the nice moment.

Before you can pull your phone out, Negan already has his on the table. The screen glows bright and he glances down, fingers tapping quickly to unlock it.

You’re unsure whether you should look or not but without saying a word, Negan tilts the phone so you can see the group chat from his phone. 

Gregory: staff party friday can only go on until 11! Everyone needs to leave the premises by then

You can't help but groan. "Ugh... We don’t have to stay the whole time, right? Like, we’re not obligated or anything?"

Negan chuckles, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. "As far as I’m concerned, the second that party kicks off, it’s no longer our problem".

You’re about to take another drink when Negan leaves the group chat messages and goes back on to his list of messages with his various contacts.

You were at the top of the list due to Negan and you messaging during school about your dinner dat– … dinner meeting, but Gregory’s message into the group chat has knocked you into second place.

You catch a glimpse of your name sitting by the top and a confused look shadows your face. Yes, it technically is your name but the brackets after it is what throws you off guard.

You lean in, squinting to get a better look, and read aloud “Good ass, great throw?”. 

The words hang in the air, your voice wavering slightly as you glance up at Negan. His expression shifts instantly, that sly grin fading into something closer to a deer in the headlights moment.

Without missing a beat, he swipes his phone off and locks it, a little too quickly. 

"Uh..." he starts, but his usual confidence is nowhere to be found now. He shifts, looking anywhere but at you "You... didn’t just see that". 

You raise an eyebrow, trying to suppress a grin. "Good ass, great throw, huh?" you repeat, drawing the words out “that’s all you have to say about me?”.

Negan clears his throat, looking a little flustered for once. "Yeah, well, uh, I mean it is the truth, doll”.

“Uh huh,” you respond, waiting a few beats before playfully slapping his arm “you’re weird”.

He laughs at your brief assessment, relaxing now that you’re not storming out. “Well, it used to say good ass, weird at flirting”.

You blink in mock outrage “I am not weird at flirting!”

Negan gives you a slow, calculating look, his grin widening like he’s about to watch some sort of show “Alright, then. Prove it to me”.

You raise an eyebrow, instantly skeptical “Prove what, exactly?”.

“Flirt with me! Show me you actually got some game,” he laughs at your innocent question.

You take a slow breath, a bit taken aback but determined to play along.

You lean forward slightly, meeting his gaze with a playful smirk. "You want me to flirt with you?" you say, your voice laced with a quiet challenge "I mean, I’m not sure you’re worth the effort but I guess I can make an exception".

Negan raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. His smirk widens “Oh, so we're starting with the sass, huh? I like it”.

You giggle, running a finger along the rim of your drink, eyes never leaving his. "I’m not being sassy, just honest," you continue, gesturing to the leather jacket "Like I can be honest and tell you that I’m liking the whole ‘Rebel Without a Cause’ thing you got going on”.

His eyes glint with amusement and he shifts slightly, clearly enjoying the game. “Well, well, look at you, getting all bold. You think you can handle a guy like me?”.

You laugh softly, your tone low and teasing “I don’t know, it would be a tight fit”. To make sure he gets what you’re saying, you give him a slow once-over, letting your eyes roam down his chest… then down his torso… to where the table blocks your view. 

Negan’s smirk falters as he lets out a low groan, his expression shifting. “You want to get out of here?” His voice is gruff and there’s something in it that makes you think he’s serious.

“I think we’ll have to,” you agree before you break your act and nod towards the approaching waiter “here comes the bill”.

Reluctantly, Negan pulls his gaze away from you, his eyes flicking toward the waiter. He lets out a heavy sigh, then shoots you a playful glare, clearly not thrilled about the interruption. 

Before he can say anything else, the waiter arrives at the table, ready to settle the score.

Negan pays the bill without even asking if you’d like to split it, putting a couple of bills down on the table and nodding to the waiter.

You both stand and he gestures for you to head out first, the tension between you still palpable despite the evening winding down.

As you both step out of the restaurant, the sharp winter air hits you immediately, biting through your clothes. You’re just about to pull your coat tighter when you feel the warmth of Negan’s leather jacket settle over your shoulders, his actions wordless. 

The smooth, worn leather feels surprisingly comforting against the chill, and for a moment it’s as if the cold doesn’t exist. You glance up at him, but he’s already heading towards his truck.

You follow, trying to will yourself not to smell his scent from the jacket.

The drive back is quiet at first, the only sounds are the hum of the engine and the occasional flick of a turn signal. The soft glow of streetlights flickers through the windows, casting shadows that seem to accentuate the unspoken energy between you. 

Every now and then, you’ll give him a direction back to yours. Considering you’ve had your cocktail, all you can do is accept the ride home from your friend. You can feel his eyes on you, how he always turns to look your way whenever he doesn’t need to be paying attention to the road.

“And Negan will do what he always does, chase skirts and try to get laid”.

The car moves smoothly through the night but the air feels charged, thick with the remnants of your banter from dinner.

It’s calm, almost intimate, but you can’t ignore the underlying tension— like the quiet before a storm, neither of you know how it’ll break but it will, eventually.

When he pulls up outside your home, you take a deep breath and say what you’ve been debating the whole ride home.

“I’m not inviting you in,” you make clear, despite the hesitancy in your eyes “we know where that would lead…”.

A ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he turns to you, his voice soft but laced with amusement.

“I wasn’t expecting you to,” he replies, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.

“If you show him interest then he’ll sniff around you for a while but he’ll get bored or realise you’re not interested in doing things at his pace, and that’s when he’ll vanish”.

“I’ve had a really good night, though,” you add quickly, wanting him to know you’re not brushing off the evening entirely. You unbuckle your seatbelt slowly, taking a moment to gather your thoughts before you slip his leather jacket off your shoulders. 

You hand it back to him but Negan doesn’t take it. Instead, his hand moves in a fluid motion, past the jacket and gently cupping your wrist before you can pull away.

The quiet hum of the engine fills the space between you, his thumb absentmindedly tracing the contours of your hand. The air in the car feels thicker now, charged with something deeper, something neither of you can put into words. 

His eyes stay on you as if nothing could pull his gaze away from you now. Negan shifts slightly, his posture more serious.

“I gotta ask,” he starts, his voice low but steady, “are you gonna keep on pretending these aren’t dates?”.

It’s tempting to play it off, to keep it light and avoid the question altogether but the truth is, you know it too. There’s more to this— more to the connection between you than just a night out or playful teasing while planning the party.

Yeah,” you admit, your voice soft “I guess these are dates.” 

The truth feels strange coming out, but the moment you say it, you feel something inside you shift. It’s like a door has opened and suddenly, everything is laid bare between you.

You lean in just a little, your breath mingling with his, and for a heartbeat, you almost forget to breathe. His lips are so close and the moment feels so right, you can’t resist anymore.

“He’s not going to chase after you when you rebuff him or eventually give into him”.

Negan’s grin widens but it’s softer now, like he’s relieved. He leans in closer, the air between you crackling with a mix of excitement and anticipation.

“Took you long enough,” he murmurs, his lips brushing just a hair’s breadth from yours.

And then, the tension breaks.

Without another word, Negan leans in and the space between you closes in an instant. His lips meet yours with a quiet, urgent tenderness, as if all the teasing, all the moments leading up to this, have been building to this one perfect kiss.

Time slows as you kiss him back, the world outside reduced to nothing more than the heat of his lips and the fluttering of your heart.

It’s slow at first as if you’re both savoring the simple act, but soon it deepens— more pressing, more urgent, as if neither of you wants to let the moment slip away.

When the kiss finally breaks, you both pull back just enough to catch your breath, foreheads touching and a quiet laugh is shared between you. The air is still thick with desire, but now there’s a warmth, a certainty, that wasn’t there before.

“Either way, you’re not winning”.

“You’re still not coming inside” you murmur, grinning up at him before you rethink what you’ve just said. “My apartment!” you clarify “You’re not coming inside my apartment!”.

“Fair but don’t think this’ll be the last time I’m taking you out” his words carry a promise but there’s something deeper in his tone, a kind of vulnerability you didn’t expect from the infamous womanizer.

“Goodnight, Negan,” You give him one last lingering glance then slowly slide the truck door open.

He watches you for a beat longer, a half-smile still playing on his lips. “Goodnight, sweetheart,” he responds, his voice carrying something more than the usual casual goodbye.

As you make your way up the path to your door, you can’t help but feel a sense of giddiness, like you’re walking on air.

It’s baffling to think Carol was so wrong about him but you can only assume that’s the result of so many people brushing Negan off as an asshole.

You don’t know what the future holds, but tonight, something changed, and you can’t wait to see where it goes.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Thursday. Just today, classes tomorrow and then it’s on. Party time. 

You rush around the school, genuinely panicked that it’s already midday and you still haven’t located Sherry.

You need to know the details; what food specifically will she be making for the party? Will she only prepare it and you have to cook it before or will it be ready to go? How much food is she making? Does she seriously believe Negan’s dick pic story?

To make matters worse, you haven’t seen Negan all morning too, setting back your plans to decorate the Christmas tree. 

Like a beggar, you stay in the stoop of your classroom, unable to leave your students unattended but yearning to track down the cafeteria worker. Whenever a colleague passes by your classroom, you barrage them with questions, hoping someone else might know what you so evidently don’t.

“Have you seen Sherry today?” is the question you start with.

Morgan, or, Mr Jones to the kids, keeps walking as he replies “I’ve been clearing the corridors all morning and I haven’t seen her once”.

Next, you ask Eugene, who gives you the most unhelpfully detailed answer. “Well, uh, truth be told, I don’t exactly have that particular piece of information in my possession,” he starts “if I did, I would certainly share it. But as of now, I am, regrettably, not privy to her current whereabouts”.

Carol thankfully didn’t stop either when you asked her, knowing she’d be able to read your face and know that something happened between you and Negan.

“Maybe she just isn’t in yet?” she suggests before going off to her own class.

Rosita, on the other hand, simply says “No”.

It’s only during the short break between classes are you able to quickly do a lap of the school, peering into the cafeteria and staff room as you go. But once again, no luck.

Walking back to your next class, who are no doubt going crazy now that they’re teacher is late, you catch a glimpse of a certain brunette out the window. 

In the teacher’s parking lot, Sherry huffs as she gets out of her car. You see her mouth move, as if she’s talking before shutting the car door. Not seeing anyone else around, you assume she’s on the phone and decide to wait until later to bombard her with questions.

But then the passenger’s door of her car opens. You recognise the tall frame, the slicked back hair and the greying stubble.

Negan. Arriving to work with Sherry. In her car. Together.

Your throat tightens and you’re not sure if you want to cry or punch something. Turning on your heels your feet go into autopilot as they bring you back to your classroom.

“Either way, you’re not winning”.

[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 :)

————————————————————————

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?...

[welivetodream]

TSH Holiday season Headcanons (adjusted timeline):

Bunny dressed up as Santa and gave Francis, Henry, Charles and Camilla handcuffs (Richard wondered what exactly was it's purpose, kinky or metaphorical)

Camilla and Henry baked a Rum and Champagne flavoured cake

Richard dug snow for two hours in front of Dr. Roland's office and tricked him into getting 1k for it. (He then spent all of it in expensive gifts for the other four and Julian)

Francis watched old movies while drinking and smoking from dawn to dusk

Charles and Camilla made a snowman outside their house

Bunny and Henry had a fun (& angry) snowball fight

Camilla and Richard went to the Christmas market to buy goodies

Judy Poovey gave Richard a nice suit for the party and let him keep it (Judy! Bless her!)

Richard dropped by Francis's and had a lunch consisting of only drinking (and a Maraschino cherry or two)

Henry gave Richard his old books as a gift ("I am sorry I didn't have time to buy something better" "Henry....these are first edition copies! Isn't this enough?" "But it's second handed" "FIRST EDITION COPIES!")

Julian threw a big party for the class and invited his famous friends to it (Richard was wrecked when some Californians asked him about his dad's oil business)

Bunny kept asking Richard why his gifts were so "cheap". Henry and Francis were burning with rage

Henry doesn't like the holiday season but obliged to go to only Julian's party

Charles got wasted and slept in Julian's bathroom (you know how mad Henry would be at him for that)

Bunny took a lot of pictures of Charles in a bathtub wearing a Santa hat for their New Year's greeting crads

Francis and Camilla went home together to watch Christmas movies

Bunny and Richard carried Charles home (Henry was apologising to Julian, who thought passing out drunk is the holiday spirit)

Then all of the gang played charades together (Camilla won, Francis was second, Bunny and Richard were okay and Henry lost by a landslide. Charles was sleeping on the couch humming "Jingle bells")

[elizabethwritesmen]

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜

chapter 2 : poconos

pairing: firefighter!steve harrington x reader

summary: steve comes over to help y/n put up halloween decorations, and old feelings start to resurface.

warnings: smut to come. angst and fluff.

a/n: still no mention of christmas but i promise it’s coming! this one is more halloween themed. slow burn, like always. make sure to read chapter 1 first! link below!

chapter 1 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

The job search over the next few days was brutal. I was exhausted from all the “I don’t think you’re the right fit,” and the “We don’t hire right before the Holidays.” Not to mention the “We just don’t need you right now.” Everything changed, though, in late September.

I was at the music shop, whining to Robin about my fruitless venture to end my unemployment. She was trying to pay attention to me and do her end-of-day inventory at the same time, curled up in the recliner she had in the back room. It was more like a studio apartment than a staff area. It had a pullout couch, two comfy recliners, a bean bag chair, a TV, a tiny kitchenette and a bathroom.

“Why don’t you just come work here?” She asked me, glancing up from her paperwork.

“Here? Like at the music shop?”

“No, in the parking lot directing traffic.” Her sarcasm dripped from her, and I couldn’t see her roll her eyes but I was sure she did.

“Well… do you even need anyone? I know having friends work together can cause problems, too. I don’t want to make things weird.”

“Y/N, you’re like, my oldest friend and we’ve never even argued. I’m not gonna be a hard ass or anything, so there won’t be any opening for conflict. Come in late, I don’t care. Wear what you want. Honestly I don’t care if you show up at all, so come all day every day or a couple days a week. You can do customer work while I do paperwork and I’ll pay you 15 an hour for whatever you work. I’ve been needing to hire someone, I just don’t have the time to get everything done anymore without staying super late.”

“You’re really ok with that?” I asked skeptically, and she stared up at me, annoyance on her face.

“Yes, stupid. Or I wouldn’t have offered. You’re here every day anyway, you might as well help. Plus you’re my best friend, I would love to work with you!”

“Okay, when do I start?”

“Tomorrow if you want.”

“That sounds great!”

And just like that, I had a job. It paid well, considering I was living in an inherited house and my car was paid off. Plus, it was so lax. When Robin said she didn’t care, she wasn’t kidding. We were basically just hanging out all day, it wasn’t hardcore like any job I’d worked before, and we were more like partners than employer and employee.

Only a few days passed before I saw Steve again, the front door bell jingling to signal his entrance. I looked up and the first thing I saw was his hair.

“You working here now?” he asked, eyeing the way my hips were situated in a stool behind the counter. I nodded.

“Robin took pity on me and gave me a job,” I shrugged.

“Naturally,” he grinned lightly, the polite kind you give to someone you don’t know anymore.

“How are you?” I asked, desperate to fill the silent void between us that had never been there before.

“I’m okay, just tired. Thought I’d stop by and annoy Robin for a few minutes before my next call.”

“Busy day?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

The silence stretched on again, and I couldn’t think up a Titanic to break the ice. Thankfully, he did it for me.

“How’s the cat?”

“Great!” I grinned all toothy and big, pulling out my phone and showing him recent pictures.

“Oh, he’s gotten so big. What’d you name him?”

“Poconos.”

At that, he faltered, his jaw opening slightly as he stared at me. He was speechless for a few seconds, and I watched as he regained his composure. “Oh.”

“I figured, you know, it fit since you’re the one who gave him to me.”

He just looked at me. Really looked at me for the first time since I’d seen him again. He had the same look in his eye that he did when we were teenagers, and seeing it was like a breath of spring.

“I should stop by and see him one day,” he casually stated as if it were nothing, “Just in case he misses me.”

“You know, he actually did tell me that he misses you, now that you mention it.”

“Is that so? Well then I’d better stop by soon, I hate to keep him waiting. How’s tonight? On my way home from work?”

“Tonight is perfect.”

“Great,” he was smiling. Like a real smile, wide and bright, filling up the room with energy so positive and radiant I could get a tan from it. I returned it tenfold, and we stared at each other like that until Robin walked in from the back room and interrupted us.

“Are those smiles I see?” she asked, feigning shock as we rolled our eyes. “I never thought I’d see Steve smile that big again. Guess it’s the Y/N effect.”

“Shut up, Robin,” he sighed, an edge in his voice like she said something she wasn’t supposed to.

“Hey! I’m just glad you’ve forgiven her!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air defensively, “Did she tell you about tonight?” I frowned, slightly confused, and so did Steve. “Seriously? You don’t remember?”

“I guess not,” I shrugged.

“We’re putting up all your Halloween decorations. We planned this like, forever ago!”

“Oh shit,” my eyes widened, “I forgot that was tonight.”

I turned to Steve apologetically. More so for myself than him, I was looking forward to him coming to see the cat. He just grinned, “Well since I’ll be there tonight anyway, I might as well help you with it.”

“Really?” I raised a brow. He nodded.

“Great!” Robin clapped, pulling out her phone, “I’ll let Eddie know to come over too. Is he off tonight?”

“He should be, but I don’t know whether he has Candy tonight or not.”

“Candy?” I inquired, “Why would he need candy?”

Steve and Robin shared a look and chuckled, explaining to me, “Candy is Eddie’s 6 year old.”

“Eddie has a 6 year old?”

“Yeah, he knocked some groupie he met at a concert up a few months after you left. He didn’t even know until he opened his front door nine months later and saw a car seat there with Candy inside it.”

“So the mom just left her there?”

“Yeah, with her birth certificate and social and everything. All he knew about her was that her name was Candy Priscilla and she was definitely his. So he got custody and he’s been raising her since.”

“Candy Priscilla?” I furrowed my brows comically, “He never thought to change that name?” I didn’t mean to be mean but… whew. I’d never heard that one before.

“Well at first, he had too much on his plate. And eventually it just grew on him,” Robin shrugged.

“Well,” I hummed, “She can come too. I’m sure she’d love to help, and I bet she’s cute as a button.”

“Okay. I’ll go call him and ask.”

She walked away, leaving Steve and I alone again.

“So…” I drawled, “Guess tonight turned into a group thing.”

“Just like old times,” he mused.

“I’m glad you’re still coming over.”

“I wouldn’t miss a chance to watch you almost fall off a ladder trying to hang fake spider webs.”

I rolled my eyes, defending myself, “I would NOT almost fall! I’m so coordinated!”

“Y/N, I’m the one who brought you to the hospital when you slipped and broke your foot. Do you really wanna have this argument with me?”

With a huff and an eyeroll, I mumbled, “Fine. Whatever. Either way, I’m glad you’re coming.”

“Me too,” he sighed, almost sounding relieved. “I gotta get back to work but I’ll see you and Poconos later.”

“Can’t wait,” I grinned shyly as he left.

Robin came over directly after work and brought a change of clothes to spend the night. The idea was that we’d decorate then watch scary movies to get in the Halloween spirit until we fell asleep. Now, though, the boys had thrown a wrench in our plans.

Soon after we got there, Eddie showed up and helped us drag all the boxes of decor out of the basement and attic. He had his little girl with him, and she was the spitting image of him, curls falling over her little head and bouncing everywhere as she ran. She was wearing a little Metallica T shirt and a pair of red leggings, with some tennis shoes adorning her busy feet.

“She’s perfect, Eddie,” I smiled, glancing at her. He beamed proudly.

“She’s the best,” he hummed, and I could almost see his heart overflowing with happiness. “Candy, come here!”

She raced over to us, her face flush from activity, “What’s wrong, daddy?”

“This is Y/N. Me and Aunt Robin are helping her put up her Halloween stuff, you wanna help too?”

“Yeah!” she squealed excitedly, her huge smile showing off her missing front teeth. She skipped to me, reaching up for me to hold her and I obliged, “You’re pretty. I didn’t know daddy had a friend as pretty as you.”

“No, you’re pretty,” I poked her nose and she giggled. “What decorations do you want to be in charge of, Candy girl? We’ve got fake spider webs, skeletons, and some inflatables.”

“Me and Daddy will do the skeletons,” she told me and I pointed them in the direction of the box.

“I’ll do the inflatables, you take the spider webs,” Robin stated, “Steve can help you when he gets here.”

“But won’t you need help?”

“All I’m doing is dragging them out into the yard and using your grandpa’s blower machine thing to blow them up.”

“Well they’re still heavy. Steve can help you and I can hang the webs alone.”

“Dear God, Y/N, you’re so dense. This is my way of forcing you and Steve to spend time together, so just go with it!”

“Robin!” I screeched, “You’re awful!”

“I just want you to be boyyyyfriendddd and girllllfriendddd again!”

“We were never boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Just because you didn’t admit it doesn’t mean you weren’t.”

With that she flipped her hair and walked away from me, beginning her work. I rolled my eyes, dragging out the boxes of webs and fake spiders, and deciding where on the house they would look best.

About a half an hour passed before I heard tires heavy on gravel and a big black truck pulled into my driveway. Steve stepped out of it, still wearing his work clothes but he looked so handsome in them I could hardly complain. Once he caught sight of me, he smiled, then dropped his tailgate, pulling out two huge spotlights. They looked heavy so I jogged over to help him.

“What’re these for?” I asked as we set them on the ground on each side of the house.

“It’s gonna be dark tonight, so I borrowed these from work.”

“Oh, thank you. These will help a lot!” I grinned, hooking them up to one of the many extension cords I was using and watching as they lit up the cabin and yard.

Just then, Candy came sprinting over. “Uncle Steve!” she squealed, her hair falling all over the place and her arms outstretched for him to pick her up. He did, spinning her around and laughing.

“Hey, shorty,” he cooed, and I couldn’t help the way my tummy fluttered. He was still as good with kids as ever.

“Have you met daddy’s new friend?” She asked him, “She’s really pretty. Don’t you think she’s so pretty?”

He smirked, whispering something in her ear and she gasped, shouting, “Y/N, he said you’re the prettiest girl in the whole world!!!”

I raised a brow, “Is that so?”

“Yes, but he told me not to tell you,” she sheepishly added, “Sorry Uncle Steve.”

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that,” he gave his best evil laugh as he tickled her into a fit of shrill giggles, and I couldn’t help but giggle along.

“Okay, okay, break it up,” Eddie intervened jokingly, “You’re making an old man jealous. My own kid likes you more than me.”

“Of course she does, I’m the best!” Steve winked.

“The best at being the worst.”

I rolled my eyes at their banter. Some things never changed.

“You losers gonna keep chatting or get to work?” Robin shouted from the other side of the yard, and we heeded her words. Eddie and Candy went to work on skeleton duty and Steve followed me to the boxes of webs and such.

“Maybe I will get to see you fall,” he smirked as he did his best to organize the pile and set up the ladder.

“No chance in hell,” I rolled my eyes, stepping onto the rungs one by one. I swayed a little and he placed his warm hand on my back.

“Would you rather me hang them and you hand them to me?”

“No, you’ll do it wrong.”

“I would rather do it wrong than take you to the ER for a broken bone.”

“You’re not doing either.”

I got a few hung up and grinned victoriously, starting to climb down the ladder but I slipped, gasping. Steve caught me easily, setting me gently on the ground.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he whispered, his mouth right against my ear, his words casting warm breath over my skin and littering me with goosebumps. He was solid behind me, his hands tight on my waist. His chin was resting against the side of my head, and neither of us made any moves to pull away. Instead, I turned my head to the side, staring up at him.

The moment was intense. I could feel my pulse racing and I was sure he could, too.

“You can do the rest,” I quietly offered, and he smiled, nice and slow.

“Smart girl.”

I shivered at those words. I could tell he felt it by the way his eyes slightly widened, taking every reaction to heart, and he pulled me closer to him by my hips. We were only interrupted by Candy’s little voice.

“Y/N, daddy told me to ask you for super glue.”

I snapped out of my trance, staring at her dumbly. Steve rescued me, stating, “I’ll take her to get it.”

“You remember where it is?” I asked.

“I told you, I remember everything.”

He walked inside with her, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I could still feel him. He was so close I could’ve kissed him. If I could count every time Steve got just close enough to kiss me but never did… No wonder I left all those years before. It was pure torture, having what you want and need right in front of you and not being able to take it. I shuddered to think that all my feelings were flooding back. My sad desperation seeping into my bones like a cancer, sealing my fate, except this time I had nowhere to go.

I sighed, moving the ladder and boxes to the other side of the house just in time for him to return.

“You didn’t have to move all this, I had it!” he pouted.

“I wanted to. Besides, you were on an important super glue mission.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t have left you here alone but that was life or death.”

“I could tell. I’m impressed you were able to get the job done by yourself.”

He laughed at that, the real kind of laugh that he used to give me before I left. I hadn’t seen it in so long, it made my heart swell.

“I almost forgot how funny you are, Y/N/N.”

I flushed. He hadn’t called me that since…. Well, also before I left. It was a silly nickname, really. A play on my name that I would only ever let him get away with. Not that anyone else would ever use it anyway. Steve would’ve given them an earful and made them apologize for stealing his favorite girl’s best nickname. He was possessive like that, but in a friendly kind of way.

“I don’t know how you could forget, I’m basically a comedian, Stevia.”

He had about the same reaction to his nickname as I’d had to mine. I’d always called him Stevia, because he wasn’t sweet enough to be real sugar and wasn’t cool enough to be Splenda. It was a joke, of course, but it stuck, especially when I wanted to get on his nerves.

“We should probably get to hanging these,” he took a deep breath, changing the subject. I nodded, taking over the job of handing him what he needed while he climbed on the ladder. Anytime he placed something slightly off from where I wanted it, I let him know swiftly and he rolled his eyes and groaned before moving it. I could tell he was annoyed with me, but not really annoyed. Just the I-can’t-wait-to-be-done-with-this annoyed. And after about an hour, he got his wish, so we went around helping everyone else finish up. Around 9, everything looked perfect, and I clapped with joy.

“Thanks SO much guys! It’s perfect!!” I squealed, bouncing on my toes, excitement overwhelming me.

“We aim to please,” Eddie shrugged.

“Now movies?!” Robin suggested, and all of us nodded but Eddie.

“I wish we could stay, but one of Candy’s friends has a birthday party in the morning and if I don’t get her to bed soon, she’ll be impossible to wake up.”

“Please, daddy?” Candy stuck out her bottom lip, letting it tremble slightly for dramatic effect.

“Another night. I promise.”

“Okay,” she sighed, dejected. She gave Steve and Robin both big hugs, then came to me and reached her arms up. I was slightly surprised, but welcomed her in, and she mumbled, “I’m gonna miss you. I want you to marry Uncle Steve so I can see you all the time.”

I blushed from head to toe, and Eddie snorted. I was too scared to glance at Steve, but I had a feeling he was blushing too.

“That’s enough, Candy. We can see her all the time anyway, even if she doesn’t marry Steve,” Eddie grabbed her from me, “But it would be cool if she did.”

I glared daggers at him as he said his goodbyes and left.

“I see nothing has changed,” Steve commented, glancing at his feet briefly.

“Nothing ever does,” I shrugged, walking past him and through the front door. He unplugged the spotlights then walked in behind me. Robin followed, dragging in all the boxes and putting them back in the basement.

“What movie do you guys wanna start with?” I asked, scrolling through the Halloween section on the TV.

“Something extra scary,” Robin requested and I nodded, handing her the remote.

“You pick it, then.”

“Oh, I have the perfect thing,” And with a smirk on her face, she chose Texas Chainsaw Massacre, the one movie I could never make it all the way through.

“Rob,” I huffed.

“What? It’s fine!”

“Robin,” Steve snapped, his voice low, “Pick something else.”

“Why?”

“You know Y/N doesn’t like this movie.”

“What are you, her body guard? She’ll be fine. It’s just a silly movie. And we’re grown now! She can handle it.”

“Robin.” His voice was even lower as he glared her way.

“It’s fine, Steve. She’s right, I can handle it.”

She put the movie on and I curled up on the opposite side of the couch from Steve as she did the same in the recliner across the room. I sighed heavily as the movie began to play.

I made it a few minutes in before the killing started, and I instantly regretted it. Every time there was a nasty or scary scene, I could feel Steve’s eyes on me, watching me cringe and flinch. Eventually, he moved to my side, pulling the blanket off the back of the couch and covering us up with it, his arm around me, pulling me in tight. I couldn’t believe I was that close to him, my heart was beating out of my chest.

“It’s okay. It’s just a movie.”

Just then, Poconos came out of nowhere and jumped on our laps, wiggling his still small kitten butt. I let out a snort, petting him lightly.

“Wow, he’s gotten bigger,” Steve mumbled low enough not to disturb Robin.

“He has. He’ll be full grown soon I think.”

“Still, he’s just a baby.”

We were interrupted by a flash coming from Robin’s phone. She took a picture of us.

“Sorry, you guys are just too cute,” she laughed, putting her phone away. We rolled our eyes, focusing back in on the movie, and I hardly noticed how his thumb traced little circles on my shoulder. Hardly.

Once it got to the scene where a guy gets sawed in half hot-dog style, I groaned and turned to Steve, hiding in his shirt like I always had.

“I remember this being the part where you’d always leave the room.”

“And you’d always follow me.”

“Yeah, I’ve never actually seen the end of the movie,” he chuckled, the sound vibrating my head where he rested his chin. The hand that was on my shoulder found it’s way to stroke my hair, comforting me through the most traumatic scene of all time.

“You never watched it without me?”

“Well if you weren’t gonna see how it ended, it didn’t feel right for me to.”

“Steve,” I sighed, gazing up at him. I could see the dim TV light playing off his features, highlighting them beautifully. He was everything.

He looked down at me as well, and our eyes locked. That had been happening a lot. I winced at how easy it would be to just lean up and kiss him. How perfect it would be. And when he started to lean it, I thought for a moment it might happen. He was so close, his lips almost on mine, I could feel my world slowly collapsing. Then he leaned down to whisper in my ear instead, “The scene is over, it’s safe to look at the screen now.” Shit. He had to know what he was doing to me.

I turned away from, doing as he said, trying to focus on the movie but it was hard. His free hand, the one that wasn’t in my hair, started at the top of my arm and slid it down slowly and gently to my wrist, then found my own, playing around with it for a second before simply holding it. His grip was warm as he squeezed, and I squeezed back, taking a deep breath as my heart swelled again.

The rest of the movie felt like it went on forever, but it finally ended and Robin yawned loudly.

“I’m gonna go to bed,” she announced, grabbing her bag and making her way to the guest room.

“I thought you wanted to watch another movie?” I called to her.

“Not anymore, I’m beat. But you two should!”

The room was silent for a moment. Steve’s hand was still holding mine, but his other hand had moved down to my back, his grip firm.

“You probably have to go soon, huh? It’s pretty late,” I mumbled, unable to keep the disappointment out of my voice.

“I can stay as late as you want me to. I’d rather be here than go home to an empty house.”

“Yeah, at least here you have a cute cat to snuggle with,” I grinned, calling Poconos over and watching as he jumped onto our laps again.

“I think he might be the best cat ever, I can’t believe I gave him up.”

“Yeah, that was pretty stupid of you.”

“Hey now, I gave a cute cat to a pretty girl. I’m a hero.”

“You really think I’m pretty?”

He furrowed his brows at me, “Didn’t you hear what I told Candy? Prettiest girl in the world, hands down.”

“What about Angelina Jolie? Megan Fox? Scarlett Johannson?”

“None of them hold a candle to you,” he shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why didn’t you think I was pretty in high school?”

“I did, but I was terrified to tell you. The kids used to pick on me for it all the time, especially Max.”

“She used to pick on me, too. She thought I had a crush on you.”

“Well, you did. Didn’t you?” he asked, and I paused, panicking slightly as I stared at him. “That was our thing. We liked eachother more than we should’ve. That’s what made us such good friends.”

“You say that like you had a crush on me, too,” I rolled my eyes.

“I did!”

“Whatever.”

“Really, I did. Swear. Why do you think I tried so hard to make out with you the night after you graduated?”

“No you didn’t! You totally pulled away from me!”

“Because I was nervous and I psyched myself out!”

I huffed, bumping his arm lightly, “Well that was stupid of you.”

“Would you have left if I had kissed you?”

The mood changed. Suddenly, it was much more serious, tension flowing in the air between us.

“No,” I told him honestly.

“Everyone told me I was the reason you left. That’s why I was so angry when you came back, I couldn’t understand why. I still don’t understand why.”

“Some things don’t need to be understood. I’m back now, and it was a mistake.”

“Yeah, and we’re just going back to the way we were like no time has passed. I don’t understand this, Y/N. Not at all. I’ve spent 7 years wondering what I could’ve done to make you stay. Wondering why you didn’t want to stay. Wondering if I did something to hurt you. To make you wanna get away from me.”

“You didn’t.”

“Then what was it?”

I stared at my lap, unsure how to proceed with the conversation. I couldn’t believe he hadn’t figured it out yet, but I was counting my blessings.

“Forget it,” he sighed, “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just watch another movie.”

“You wanna stay?” I stared hopefully up at him, my eyes glassy and wide, “Even after we argued?”

“Of course I wanna stay. You’re my best friend.”

“You still think of me as your best friend?”

“I never stopped,” he smiled, tapping my nose, “Besides, I knew you’d come back. Nobody can resist the Harrington charm for long.”

I rolled my eyes, handing him the remote, “Just pick a movie, stupid.”

He grabbed it from me and began scrolling, settling on some B movie about a slasher. We settled in, getting comfy with each other again as we watched. Halfway through, though, I felt myself starting to doze off.

When I woke up, I was in Steve’s arms being carried through the hallway to the master bedroom. I furrowed my brows for a second, “Steve? What’re you doing?”

“You fell asleep, I’m taking you to bed.”

“But I wanna stay up longer with you.”

“I know, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’ll come see you at the music shop then we can do something when you get off if you want to.”

“Of course I want to,” I smiled, pulling myself closer to his chest and snuggling into his warmth. A second layer, we were in my room and he laid me down gently, kissing my forehead.

“Sleep tight, Y/N/N.”

And with that, he was gone. I could faintly hear his tires as he pulled out of the long driveway.

Three months before graduation

It was far from the first time Steve had parked down the road from my parents’ house and waited for me so we could sneak out to the cabin. It was easy, really. His parents didn’t give a damn what he did and mine never really noticed me missing.

I climbed out my window, hopping onto the ground gracelessly and setting off for his car. It was quicker to go through the treeline in my neighbor’s back yard than to walk on the street, so that’s what I did. There was also no chance of anyone seeing me that way.

Steve was standing by the passenger door when I walked up, smile engraved on his pretty face.

“It’s about time, I was starting to worry about you,” he stated as he opened the door for me, making sure I was completely in before shutting it behind me. He climbed in on his side, pulling off quietly.

“I’ve walked that path about a million times, Steve. I’m perfectly safe. Besides, even if I got kidnapped it would be worth it for the chance to do this with you.”

“You’re too sweet,” he smirked, giving my thigh one gentle squeeze then returning his hand to his own lap.

The ride felt shorter than it was, I suppose the company helped with that. There was never a lull with Steve, he just talked and you always wanted to hear what he had to say. Plus, his hair captivated attention on its own. Finally, we pulled into the rough driveway and he parked.

“It’s a shame it’s too cold to swim,” I sighed, staring off at the water before me.

“It’s fine, I’m in more of a bonfire mood tonight anyways.”

He lead me gently with a hand on my back to the fire pit. I always loved that part of the yard, fairy lights were strung up over it and there was an assortment of patio and folding chairs around it, along with a picnic table beside it.

He set to work on getting the fire going, adding logs, sticks and kindling. Fortunately, the only time my parents used the cabin was to have a fire when it was really cold, so supplies were always stocked up in a little shed beside the place. I shivered as I waited for him to get it going and he turned to me, concern showing on his face. “Here,” he pulled off his jacket and handed it to me.

“I can’t take this, you’ll be cold.”

“I’m working up a sweat carrying these logs, I’ll be fine. Plus, the fire will be going soon. And I’d rather be cold than you be cold.”

“Fine, whatever, sacrifice yourself and your warmth,” I shrugged, yanking the item from him and slipping into it, breathing a sigh of relief. It was so warm from the body heat he’d been cultivating, and it smelled of his cologne.

“You look cute like that,” he smirked, sparing me a glance. I gave him a once over as he continued working on the fire.

“So do you.”

I could see a slight blush on his cheeks in the glow of the flames he’d finally created. Soon, it went from flames to fire, and he pulled a folding chair right next to mine, so close we were almost touching. Almost wasn’t good enough for either of us though, so we reached for each other, clasping hands like we needed each other to breathe. It was always like that. We always needed each other, more than anyone else.

“You sure you don’t want your jacket back?” I asked him, but he shook his head.

“I already told you no.”

I smiled lightly, turning back to the fire. We sat in comfortable silence for a while before he broke it, saying, “I can’t believe your graduating so soon. I’m so proud of you.”

“Do you think we’ll still do things like this after I graduate?”

“I think we’ll still do things like this when we’re in our 30s and you’re married. You’ll be sneaking out of your husband’s bed just to meet me here, at our spot.”

“What about you? No wife?”

“Absolutely not. I don’t need someone telling me all the reasons I shouldn’t be friends with you.”

“You’re silly,” I giggled, “You always have new girlfriends. Surely you’ll get married in a couple years, have a few babies. The real American dream.”

“You’re right, I do always have new girlfriends, and they never like you. Why do you think I don’t keep them?”

“If you found a girl you really just couldn’t live without, you’d have to cut me off, and that would be okay because she would be worth it.”

“I already found a girl I really just couldn’t live without.”

I glanced over at him to see he was already looking at me, his eyes heavy, shining in the orange light.

“You could find a way,” I insisted, tugging on my hand lightly until he let it go then folding it in my lap. I wanted the distance. I wanted this conversation to hurt less, and I thought letting him go would be the way.

“Let’s go on a trip,” he suddenly changed the subject.

“What?”

“A trip. Let’s go on one, after your graduation. Just for a weekend or something. We can get a cheap motel room and eat trashy food and see whatever we wanna see. Just me and you.”

“What about Robin and Eddie?”

“They can come, if they really want, but I am not rooming with him so I hope she’ll be willing to.”

“Well where are we going?”

“Anywhere you want.”

“No, it’s your idea. You pick.”

“I always wanted to go to the Poconos.”

“Why the Poconos? Isn’t that mountains or something.”

“Yeah, I think so. I don’t know much about it but I like the name. Poconos. Poke-a-nose. I think it’d be funny to see how many times I could poke your nose in the Poconos.”

“You are so goofy.”

“That’s why you love me so much.”

“I do. I really, really do. Okay, so we’re going on a trip to the Poconos. Me and you are sharing a room, Robin and Eddie are sharing a room. Or you could room with Robin and I could room with Eddie?”

“Absolutely not. Me and you, one room, one bed.”

“One bed? We’re not in a fan fiction.”

“Fine, two beds. But I get to pick what we watch on TV.”

“Deal. What’re we gonna do there?”

“Get drunk. Sight see. I’m gonna buy you some kick ass lame souvenirs and you’re gonna keep them forever. And there’s gonna be a lot of nose poking going on.”

“This sounds like the best trip ever.”

“The first of many, I hope.”

“Oh definitely. We’re gonna be travel buddies ‘til we’re geriatric. Two veggies in a Volkswagen bus.”

“Oh my God, you’re the worst.”

“It was funny!”

“It was not.”

Our banter continued for the rest of the night until he eventually put the fire out and brought me home. Every second with him felt like it was almost too much, suffocating me with how badly I loved him.

That was the night I started to think about leaving. I’d applied to colleges that were far away as a “just in case”, but maybe one of them could be serious. Anything would be better than pining after Steve for the rest of my life. I had to get away before high school ended and my real life began because seeing him all the time with no breaks or interruptions would’ve just been too much. He would be fine if I left, I told myself. He can still go on the trips and see the sights and poke the noses. He wouldn’t miss me too much.

He wouldn’t miss me.

[simpingforthemm]

christmas with oitnb women

(outside of prison)

includes: ouija, zirconia and taystee

word count: 1k

a/n: consider this a late christmas present ;) enjoy and happy new years guys ❤️, reader is fem / gender neutral

Ouija

she's actually somewhat of a Grinch

around Christmas time, she's just in a bad mood, not feeling very festive

but if you really like this holiday, she'll try her best to get in the Christmas mood

I can imagine her wanting to decorate the Christmas tree in darker colors or not wanting a Christmas tree at all

tries to convince you not to put up too much decorations bc if she sees another santa figure or tacky baby jesus crib, she swears she will lose her shit

will probably be really into mistletoes bc that just gives her an excuse to make out with you

she will do her impressions for you on Christmas Day, since you love them so much

one of those people who goes shopping for Christmas presents last minute

doesn't want to admit it but gets Christmas stressed pretty easily but not bc she wants christmas to be like perfect but bc everyone is making such a big fuss out of it and constantly asks her whether she's in the ✨mood✨ yet and if she still needs to buy a Christmas tree and whether she's bought presents yet...

don't go ice skating with her bc this girl has no balance at all and will basically cling to you the whole time you're on the ice

also, spending time with her son miguel!!

I can imagine it being hard for her to get custody of him back after being in prison and committing WIC fraud

But if you do succeed you'll probably both make this the best Christmas you can for him and spoiling him with presents <3

also the Christmas season would probably be a lot about her winning her son's trust back (since he saw that video of her being aggressive to the guards taken hostage during the riot and the poor boy is probably traumatized)

probably isn't the most emotional around Christmas time and doesn't really care about the reflective / contemplative aspect of Christmas

just wants you and her son to have a fun time

will threaten any christmas carolers that knock on your door and if they dare sing their bullshit jingle bells, best believe hands will be thrown

she thinks the grinch is the most hilarious movie

also, will get aggressive whenever she sees a fake Santa trying to lure her son into sitting on his lap

probably thinks dude is a pedophile targeting him

so she isn't the best at giving gifts so her Christmas present to you will probably be something like a coupon

also REFUSES to go to church on Christmas bc she just isn't religious and also doesn't want her son to be

one of those ppl who would and will eat fast food on Christmas and do something like going to a trampoline park or theme park

Zirconia

this girl is HYPED for Christmas!

and when I say HYPED I mean she's already going Christmas shopping on the first of december, decorating your living space all christmas-y, baking cookies (which she burns, oopsies) and forcing you to wear Christmas sweaters

If you live in a village and have a house, she will probably get in a petty competition with the neighbors over who decorates their house the best

she will go all out and buy inflatable santas, colorful and flashy fairy lights, garlands

bc ain’t no way is she going to let this asshole of a neighbor win this competition

will probably make it into a newspaper bc of her over-the-top, completely exaggerated decorations on your house

you will probably wake up in the middle of the night bc the lights that she brought were too bright or bc you found out that one of the inflatable reindeers she bought can actually sing Christmas songs

like ouija, she will love mistletoes

and probably also the fake santas at the Christmas market

will also probably believe that dude is real

best believe she will watch all of those cheesy christmas Hallmark movies with you and still be surprised when Janet and Hunter get together at the end

also complaining about the lack of wlw representation in those movies!!

loves all the Christmas treats and definitely has a sweet tooth

Anyway she's so excited for Christmas and just wants to have loads of fun with you! ❤️

Taystee

kind of like Zirconia, Christmas would be fun with her but also very emotional

it would remind her of all the christmases she had spent with Vee, in a foster family or the christmases in Litchfield

she would be in a very melancholic mood and reminisce about her childhood

I can imagine she would love jazzy Christmas music

just something that she could dance to

would love to invite some of your friends for Christmas (maybe some prison friends like Janae, Alison..)

she’d love to rekindle with them and would probably be very emotional when seeing them again

mourning the loss of poussey would also be a thing she’d want to do at Christmas, maybe lighting a candle for her or putting up a picture of her in your home

she's super open about trying your Christmas traditions since she's not really keen on implementing the traditions that Vee did with them when she was young

so she'd definitely be super happy to try some traditional food from your country for Christmas or anything like that

she's the best at gift giving and is super thoughtful

like Zirconia, she will also watch cheesy Christmas movies with you (remember she used to like watching this little girl beauty pageant series when she was younger which is also not that high quality tv but don't tell her that)

will just want a normal & relaxed christmas where she can feel safe and loved

will absolutely go to church with you if that's what you want but if you're not religious she will also not mind staying home & just chilling

she would love to go on a drive with you and look at all the pretty Christmas lights while drinking hot chocolate

if you have an old lady living next to you who is spending Christmas alone she would definitely be the type to invite her over so she wouldn’t have to be by herself

definitely the person who gets the meaning of Christmas (giving back and such)

around Christmas time she’d also want to help the less fortunate (assuming you two are more fortunate rn) like donating clothes you don't need anymore, helping out at the homeless shelter

and she's just the kindest to everyone around, even your grumpy ass neighbor who hates Christmas bc that's just who she is

merry christmas everybody and a happy new year!

[peppymintdreams]

Sakuverse Daycare: ❄️Christmas Party🎄

The daycare was alive with the warm, twinkling glow of Christmas lights. Garland wrapped around the windows, paper snowflakes dangled from the ceiling, and a glittery Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner, surrounded by presents the children had made for one another. Holiday music played softly in the background, adding to the festive atmosphere.

The children arrived in their coziest Christmas sweaters, some adorned with jingling bells, blinking lights, or reindeer faces.

“Luca! Look at you!” Elias exclaimed as Luca shuffled in with his stuffed Bunny, wearing a sweater with a big snowman on the front.

Luca gave a shy smile. “Mom said I look cute,” he murmured, holding Bunny close.

“You do look cute,” Isaac said, wiping the chocolate smears Luca had on his face, adjusting his own sweater, which had a festive pattern of holly leaves. “It’s almost as cute as mine.”

Elias laughed. “C’mon, mine’s the best! It lights up!” He pressed a button on his chest, and tiny LEDs on his Christmas tree sweater blinked to life.

Xanthus entered last, his sweater a simple black with one small, embroidered snowflake. “Let me guess,” Elias said, grinning. “You hate Christmas sweaters.”

Xanthus shrugged. “They’re itchy, but I’ll survive.”

“Okay, everyone!” the teacher called out. “It’s time to decorate cookies!”

The kids rushed to the table, where plates of plain sugar cookies, bowls of frosting, and cups full of sprinkles waited.

Elias grabbed a cookie shaped like a star. “I’m making the North Star!” he declared, slathering on bright yellow frosting and piling it with golden sprinkles.

Isaac carefully decorated a snowflake cookie, using blue and white frosting to create an intricate design. “Did you know no two snowflakes are alike?” he asked Luca as he worked.

Andrew, next to him, raised an eyebrow. “Did you also know that’s technically not true? Statistically, two snowflakes could be the same.”

Isaac gave him a mock frown. “Let me have this one, Andrew.”

Luca, meanwhile, focused on decorating a bunny-shaped cookie. He added white frosting and little red candy buttons for eyes, smiling softly as he worked.

“What are you making, Xanthus?” Isaac asked.

Xanthus was silently spreading black frosting onto a round cookie. “The night sky,” he replied simply, then added a few silver star-shaped sprinkles.

“Cool,” Isaac said, genuinely impressed.

Elias leaned over. “You know this is Christmas, right? Not Halloween?”

Xanthus gave him a flat look. “Stars are for Christmas too.”

After the cookie decorating, the teacher announced it was time for the gift exchange. Each child had made or picked out a small present for someone else in the class.

“Alright, Elias, you go first!”

Elias eagerly handed a bright red package to Luca. “This is for you!”

Luca’s eyes lit up as he unwrapped it, revealing a small, soft blanket with bunnies printed all over it. “Thank you, Elias!” he said, hugging the blanket tightly.

Elias grinned. “I figured Bunny might need a blanket too.”

Andrew gave his gift to Isaac—a tiny potted succulent. “It’s an aloe plant,” Andrew explained. “It’s good for burns and stuff.”

Isaac smiled. “It’s perfect. Thanks, Andrew.”

Xanthus handed his gift to Elias—a small sketch of the solar system, intricately drawn and framed. “I thought you’d like this,” he said.

Elias stared at it, his mouth open in surprise. “This is... amazing. Thanks, Xanthus!”

Luca shyly handed a small box to Xanthus. “This is for you,” he said quietly.

Inside was a simple bracelet made of colorful beads. Xanthus held it up, examining it. “Did you make this?”

Luca nodded, his cheeks pink. “Yeah. I thought... it might look nice.”

Xanthus slipped it onto his wrist. “It does. Thanks, Luca.”

After the gift exchange, the teacher brought out a big surprise: a piñata shaped like Santa’s sleigh. The kids took turns trying to break it open, cheering and laughing as candy spilled across the floor.

When the excitement finally settled down, the teacher dimmed the lights, and the kids gathered around the Christmas tree for story time. She read The Night Before Christmas, her voice warm and gentle as the children listened, some leaning against each other or clutching their stuffed animals.

By the end of the story, the daycare was calm, the earlier energy giving way to a peaceful, cozy atmosphere.

“This was the best Christmas party ever,” Elias declared, lying on the floor and staring at the twinkling tree lights.

“Yeah,” Isaac agreed, leaning against Andrew. “It was pretty perfect.”

Xanthus sat quietly nearby, his new bracelet glinting faintly in the glow of the Christmas tree. Even he had to admit—it wasn’t such a bad day.

Luca hugged Bunny and his new blanket, his heart warm with happiness. “Merry Christmas, everyone,” he whispered, and the others smiled, echoing the sentiment as they all basked in the magic of the moment

🍬

P.S. Hey… hey, you! 🫵🏾 Do you want more Sakuverse gay shit? Hit that follow button and send in a request! You’ll get notifications whenever I post new fics or incorrect quotes or head canons and maybe even a chance to have your OC featured in a story.

[spacequokka]

Kookies | Day 20

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Genre: Roommate AU, Fluff Rating: PG Summary: Your roomie needs help in the kitchen. Word Count: 0.7k Warnings: Language.

Gray, cloudy skies loomed over the city, heavy with the promise of snow. Festive lights twinkled on every corner, but the threat of a winter storm brought a sense of unease to the bustling streets. Amidst the revelry and holiday cheer, you'd been focused on finishing up an article for a client. Just as you'd submitted it for review, a knock on the door drew your attention from your computer. "Yeah?"

Your notoriously mischievous roommate, Jungkook, poked his head in. "Hey. Um, how busy are you on a scale of one to 'please help me?'"

You turned in your chair toward him. "What have you done now?"

He pursed his lips like he wanted to defend himself but thought better of it, settling for "It's not what I've done, but what I need to do."

Now he had your attention. "O-kay. What do you 'need' to do?"

With a straight face, he said, "Bake twelve dozens of frosted sugar cookies."

You waited for him to crack a smile, laugh and say "sike", but he didn't. When it was clear he was waiting on your response, you nearly choked. "I beg your damn pardon?"

He pushed the door open. "Okay, so Jimin said I can't cook to save my life. I wasn't gonna let him talk shit so," he took a deep breath, "I bet that I could and he put me in charge of bringing cookies to his Christmas party tomorrow."

You blinked a few times. "The only thing I've ever seen you cook without burning it is ramen."

"That's something I like to eat!" He threw his hands up. He'd clearly heard that retort already. "But that's not the point. I can bake the cookies, but I need help decorating and packaging them good enough to make the trip." He gave you his best puppy eyes. "Please help me. I know I can't mess it up if you're by my side."

"Why do I feel like the Shego to your Dr. Drakken?"

"You know what--I'll take that. Just say you'll help me, please? I'll do anything you want for a day."

"Just a day? That's over a hundred cookies--"

"Okay, a week! A whole seven days of whatever you want."

"Hm." You pretended to think about it. He dropped to his knees and put his hands together, poking his bottom lip out. "Meh, okay. I'm in."

"Oh, thank fuck." He stood up and grabbed your wrist, pulling you out the chair. "I got the premixed stuff because the YouTube short I found called for too much shit." His words ran together worse than in your room as he led the way to the kitchen. Everything you needed was laid out on the kitchen table. "The first batch is cooling here and the second batch is in the oven. You can start bagging the icing and I'll start on batch three."

"Holy shit." You picked up a piping bag. "You're actually on top of this." You grabbed a spoon and scooped vanilla into the bag. "Do I get music to work to, boss?"

He preened at the compliment and nodded with a grin. "Of course!" He dug his phone out of his pocket. A few swipes later, "Jingle Bell Rock" started to play. "Good?"

"Yessir." You nodded as you swung your hips to the song and added red food coloring to the icing. "Any particular request for the decorations?"

"Nope. Go wild or be as basic as you want. I just want them done so I can shove them in his stupid face."

"Aye aye." You saluted him. You both fell into a production line with him baking and you decorating the cookies.

Jungkook watched in amazement as you effortlessly piped intricate designs onto each cookie. "You're really good at this," he commented as he attempted to decorate a snowflake with blue frosting.

"It just takes practice," you replied with a smile. Once all the cookies were cooled and frosted, you packaged them in festive boxes for tomorrow's event. As you finished up, Jungkook thanked you profusely for your help.

"It was actually kind of fun," you admitted with a grin. "Much better than dealing with bananas."

"Yeah? Maybe next time we can bake something more challenging together," Jungkook suggested with a mischievous glint in his eye.

You laughed and shook your head. "We'll see."

But deep down, you knew that spending time together like this was becoming one of your favorite things about living with Jungkook. And as the snow began to fall outside, creating a winter wonderland scene, you couldn't help but feel grateful for having such a chaotic yet fun roommate.

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Thanksgiving Reruns 2024--Chapter 3: Black Friday (pt. 1/3)

It’s that time again; the holidays!  I would like to wish all my followers who celebrate it a very happy Thanksgiving.  As a thank you to you (as well as my followers who DON’T celebrate), I present you with 3 Thanksgiving related stories I’ve written in the past.  Enjoy!

Title: Black Friday—Chapter 1 of 3

Rating: G

Words: 1442

Summary: CS as single parents AU. As the holidays approach, Emma’s son Henry and Killian’s daughter Alice ask for a specific storybook which will ONLY be available for purchase on Black Friday.

 Other Chapters: 1 2 4 5

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Black Friday—Chapter 1

One week before Thanksgiving

“Do you really think it’ll work?” she asked, leaning forward, eyes bright and delighted.

“It’s perfect!” he answered. “Trust me!  Our plan will work like a charm.  Just make sure you give him Miss French’s flier and make him see how much you want it.  I’ll do the same with her.  By Christmas, we’ll be celebrating our success.”

She grinned.  “Oh, I hope you’re right!  Can you imagine?  If we pull this off, everything will change forever!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The morning after Thanksgiving

The alarm clock roared to life as a way, way too enthusiastic version of Jingle Bell Rock blared from the speakers of her clock radio. Emma groaned, reaching blindly over to slam the button on the top of the alarm and make the noise stop.

3 am.  It was entirely too early for any sane person to be awake.  Even the early birds were still peacefully snoozing in their nests.  It was only the crazy humans, intent on getting the best deals on the best Christmas gifts who would submit themselves to this kind of torture.

She hoped the payout was worth it.

Her bed was so warm, so comfortable, that for a split second, Emma considered just forgetting about the whole thing and going back to sleep, but then she thought about Henry.

It had been a difficult year for him, for both of them really.  They’d had a great life in New York.  Her bail bonds gig had paid well enough that they could afford a wonderful apartment. Henry had lots of friends at school.  She’d had a guy she loved, a guy she really thought was the one.  He’d seemed great with Henry, and Henry had really liked him.  

Walsh had proposed a week before Halloween, and Emma had really considered saying yes.  Granted, she didn’t feel the epic, sweeping, melt-into-a-pile-of-goo passion you see in movies, but she did love Walsh, and he could be a wonderful addition to the little family circle she and Henry had put together.

At least that’s what she thought.

Emma had made up her mind to accept the proposal when it all went south.  Turns out Walsh wasn’t at all who he said he was.  He’d been playing a long con on her, doing his level best to steal her money and assets right from under her nose, and she felt like a fool for buying into it his b.s.  She was smarter than this!  She ran the honey trap on bail jumpers; she knew the playbook.  How did she fall for it?

She’d just so badly wanted that perfect, white-picket-fence life for herself, and especially for her ten-year-old son, that’s how.

After everything had so epically crashed and burned with Walsh, Emma had just wanted to get away.  She’d wanted–needed–a new start, and so when her brother David had mentioned the opening for a deputy in the tiny town of Storybrooke, Maine, where he lived with his wife Mary Margaret, Emma had jumped at the opportunity.

Within a week, she’d uprooted her whole life–and her son’s whole life–and moved to Storybrooke.  For the moment, she and Henry were crashing with David and Mary Margaret in their tiny loft apartment until Emma could find them their own place.

The move had been the most difficult on Henry.  All he’d ever known was back in New York–friends, school, entire lifestyle.  Small town Storybrooke was like a totally different world than the booming metropolis he was used to.  Her normally happy, vivacious kid had been quiet, almost withdrawn since they’d arrived in Storybrooke.

Emma knew kids were resilient, that Henry would bounce back, but she felt so damn guilty for causing him stress.

And so, naturally when Henry had come home a week ago, excitement bumped up to a level ten, talking a mile a minute and waving a flier in her face, Emma had taken notice.  Turns out the school librarian Belle French–who was also the owner and proprietor of “A Tale as Old as Time”, Storybrooke’s best (and only) bookstore–was holding a special Black Friday sale on a very special storybook, entitled Once Upon a Time.  She had one copy, and one copy only, and the rare book would normally sell for an exorbitant price–somewhere between an arm and a leg.  On Black Friday, however, she was offering the book for dirt cheap, but there was a catch.  The price was only good during the special, Black Friday early bird sale.  Doors opened at 4 am.   First person to touch the book had the opportunity to purchase it.

Henry had always loved stories, and he’d been particularly fascinated with fairy tales.  Naturally, a book chalk full of them would be right up Henry’s alley.  Faced with the prospect of getting Henry the perfect gift, the gift that would finally bring him some joy after the difficult last few weeks, it was a no brainer.

Waking up a few hours before the crack of dawn was a small price to pay for her kid’s happiness.

Emma pushed aside the covers and got up, throwing on the first pair of clean clothes she could find, twisting her hair into a messy bun, and then downing the strong coffee her sister-in-law had set to brew for her.  By the end of her second cup, she was feeling almost human, and she was ready to brave the hordes of Black Friday shoppers to attain her prize.

It was a quick, five minute walk to the center of town where “A Tale as Old as Time” was located, and Emma made it just as the cheerful brunette proprietor was unlocking the doors and letting her first customers in.  Emma knew just where her target was.  She’d scoped out the bookstore over the weekend, getting the lay of the land and mapping out her plan of attack.  She knew just where to go, and within sixty seconds of the store opening, she’d reached her target.  It was right there, in sight.

Emma reached for the book, her hand made contact–just as another hand did as well.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Killian Jones had lived a difficult life.  He’d seen more heartache and tragedy in his thirty-five years of existence than most people did in a lifetime.  Aye, it had been an incredibly difficult life, but it did have one bright, shining spot.

His daughter Alice.

His one-night-stand with Alice’s mom, Eloise, had been a mistake of epic proportions, but Killian would never regret it, because it gave him the greatest blessing of his life, his precious little starfish.

Nine months after their dalliance, Eloise had suddenly showed up on his doorstep, placed their newborn daughter in his arms, and then walked out of their lives forever.  For himself, Killian couldn’t have cared less.  He felt nothing but revulsion for the woman who’d gotten him blind drunk and then taken advantage of him that night nine months ago.  In the bright morning light, he’d been disgusted with her, with himself, and with the entire sordid affair.  He’d have been more than happy if he never saw her noisome face again.

No, he didn’t care if she walked away from him, but his heart had broken at the fact that his tiny, perfect daughter had been abandoned by her mother.  Killian knew from first hand the agony of being abandoned by a parent, and it tore him up inside that his beloved daughter had to deal with it as well.

Though having a child was the farthest thing from his mind at the time, there’d never been any doubt what he would do.  Alice was his daughter, his precious child, and he would do right by her no matter what.

Ten years later, he thanked his lucky stars every single day that he’d made the choice to raise her.  Alice was the most important person in the world to him, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

So naturally, when she came home from school all excited about the book Miss French was selling, Killian knew exactly how he would be spending his very early Black Friday morning.

He’d arrived at “Tale as Old as Time” just as Miss French opened the doors.  He rushed to the back of the store, his prize in sight.

He grabbed the book just as a gorgeous blonde made contact.  

“Um excuse me,” she said with a frown.  “This book is mine.”

It appeared this shopping expedition was going to be more difficult–although possibly more intriguing–the blonde truly was breathtaking–than he’d expected.

Killian grinned.  He’d never backed down from a challenge, and he didn’t intend to begin now.

Next Chapter–>

[punsify1]

200+ Hilarious Christmas Fitness Puns To Flex Your Holiday Humor

The holiday season is here, and it’s the perfect time to mix some festive cheer with your fitness routine! These Christmas fitness puns are the ideal way to add humor to your workouts while staying motivated during this busy season. Whether you're pumping iron or doing cardio, these puns will have you giggling while you flex those muscles!

So, grab your holiday gear and get ready to "work out" your sense of humor along with your body. From Santa squats to reindeer reps, there’s no better way to stay jolly and active!

Read More: 200+ Hilarious Christmas Fitness Puns To Flex Your Holiday Humor

The Best of Christmas Fitness Humor

Staying fit through the holidays doesn't have to be hard. In fact, it’s even more fun when you bring in some festive humor. From the gym to the yoga mat, there’s no better way to add some Christmas cheer to your workout routine.

Boost Your Holiday Workout Routine

This holiday season, turn your sweat sessions into laughter-filled workouts. With a few Christmas fitness puns, you’ll stay engaged while burning off those extra holiday treats.

Start your mornings with a “Jingle Bell Jog” around the block.

Incorporate some festive exercises like “Reindeer Rounds.”

Mix up your strength training with “Santa Squats” and “Elf Lunges.”

Make Fitness Fun and Festive

This Christmas, create a workout playlist full of fun Christmas songs and mix in some hilarious fitness challenges. Celebrate every squat and stretch with a holiday-inspired twist, and don’t forget to share the laughs with your friends.

Swap out your regular workout terms for Christmas-themed names.

Get your whole family involved in holiday-themed fitness challenges.

Turn your favorite Christmas songs into a fun cardio workout routine.

Top Christmas Fitness Puns To Keep You Laughing

These Christmas fitness puns are sure to have you smiling through every rep. Let’s add a little holiday magic to your workout and laugh your way to fitness!

"Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way to the gym!"

"Feeling the burn, but make it festive!"

"Do 12 days of squats for the holiday cheer!"

"Santa's sleigh isn’t the only thing lifting this year!"

"Ho ho ho! Who’s ready for a holiday workout?"

"I’ll be sleighing my fitness goals this Christmas!"

"It’s the most wonderful time to plank!"

"Do you lift? If not, Santa might leave you a dumbbell!"

"Nothing beats a ‘reindeer sprint’ in the snow!"

"Let’s jingle all the way to better fitness!"

Stay Motivated with Christmas Fitness Fun

With these puns, it’s easy to stay motivated throughout the holiday season. Whether you're working out alone or with a group, these jokes will keep the energy up and make staying active feel like a celebration.

Add Humor to Your Routine: Laughter is a great motivator for staying fit.

Festive Family Fun: Include the whole family in some holiday fitness challenges.

Celebrate Success: Reward yourself with a fitness treat after completing your workout.

10 More Christmas Fitness Puns To Keep the Jolly Flowing

"Jingle bell squats for that holiday booty!"

"I’ll be doing some Christmas cardio, in my sweater!"

"Reindeer push-ups: stronger than Rudolph’s nose!"

"Elf squats: getting fit for Santa’s sleigh!"

"Have a merry little fitness session!"

"Santa’s sleigh can’t carry all these gains!"

"Burning those Christmas calories one plank at a time!"

"Don’t stop till you get enough eggnog and fitness!"

"Squat like no one’s watching—except Santa!"

"Who needs cookies when you’ve got crunches?"

[lookismaddict]

Lookism Characters Attending a Christmas Party:

(A gift from me to you.💚 Merry Christmas!!)🎄

Daniel Park: He’d be the life of the party! Pretty boy Daniel was already popular to begin with, so almost everybody would give him presents right when they see him. When he receives a gift from someone, he’d accept them with a smile and a “Merry Christmas!”. However, he’ll eventually have a tower of gifts which will then lead to a whole pile of them. (And Jay to the rescue, would offer to give Daniel a ride home so he can help carry them to Jay’s car once his chauffeur comes to pick him and Joy up from the party. Jay will then help drop them off at his house once the party is over.)

Daniel Park (OG body): Little dude would greet everybody in the party then zoom towards the holiday food. Roasted chicken? “Yes please.” Mashed potatoes? “Heck yeah.” Christmas cake? “Ohhh haven’t had this in my life yet, but I already know it’s going to be a life-changer…” He’d be carrying one-of-each food in his plate to try all of them until he accidentally bumps into Gun at the party (like, physically bump into him), resulting him to restrict Daniel from eating anymore food in order to keep his masterpiece in shape.

Zack Lee: Zack would arrive at the party by escorting Mira with him. They’d both dress up in pajamas, since they both agreed to dress comfy for this year. During the party, Zack would be talking to Mira in front of a fireplace about her spending time with family during the holidays. He’d admire her pretty face under the crackling light of the warm Christmas fire until Mira heard Zoe call for her from a few feet away. Mira told Zack that she’ll be right back and when she left him there at the fireplace, Zack unconsciously looked up until he caught himself staring at a mistletoe hanging above the fireplace frame. His eyes widened in surprise as he felt his face burning, realizing that he could have kissed Mira a second ago if he didn’t look up sooner.

Vasco: The guy would DEFINITELY go all out for Christmas. This man BREATHES the spirit of Christmas, as him and Jace both would show up at the party as a pair. Vasco would be wearing an oversized Santa Claus costume while Jace would dress as a Christmas elf, which would suit him best with his big ears. Vasco would carry a bell around with him, jingling it while booming, “Merry Christmas to you all!” in his Santa voice until Zack gets annoyed and tries to plan a way for him to steal Vasco’s bell to hide it somewhere where he couldn’t find it. (Zack remembers that one time during Vasco’s birthday and still feels guilty about it, but he thought that this situation was different. It was a necessary cause that must be fulfilled and he is willing to take one for the team this time.)

Jay Hong: Jay would show up with Joy to the party, arriving in style with their designer branded clothes. Jay would gift people with expensive imported gifts, such as rare food baskets that could only be found from Europe. However, when it comes to Daniel Park, he’d gift him something nice and thoughtful (and expensive). When he handed Daniel’s gift to him with a smile, he watched Daniel open his gift as he held a rare limited edition Christmas Gucci sweater. Daniel gave Jay a big grin, as he’d say to Jay, “Thanks Jay for always giving me really nice gifts and for being my first friend. I could never ask more from an amazing friend like you. Merry Christmas Jay!”

Mira Kim: Mira wanted to gift everyone something thoughtful and fit for the season so she decided to bring bundles of warm blankets as gifts for everybody for Christmas. She asked Zack to help her carry them with her to the party, and he gladly obliged. He offered to carry all of the big bags of blankets with him so Mira didn’t have to tire herself out by carrying any of them. When they both arrived at the party in their comfy pajamas on, many of their friends greeted them right when they entered the party. However, when they saw Zack behind Mira carrying those big bags over his shoulders and his arms, their worried looks says it all as they all thought, “Poor Zack. He’s been trying so hard all this time…”

Zoe Park: Zoe would have a Christmas livestream during the party, showing off her friends and what they were up to. At the same time, she’d be sticking by OG Daniel for the majority of the time, and when she’d hand her gift to him, she’d record Daniel’s reaction as he opens his gift. Inside the packaging, Daniel would reveal a comfy handmade sweater that Zoe decided to make for him. He’d gratefully thank her for it and when he found out that Zoe made it herself, he’d be impressed by how much time and effort she’d put into making it, resulting her to blush. She learned how to crochet by watching YouTube videos just for the sake of making Daniel’s special Christmas present.

Vin Jin: Vin Jin would show up at the party with Mary Kim wearing matching Santa Claus jumpsuits, rapping a Christmas song that he came up with for the holidays. And when it’s time for gift giving, Vin Jin would gift everyone with his mixtapes while promoting his own music on SoundCloud.

Mary Kim: At the party, Mary will approach Jace Park and say, “Merry Christmas! Let me touch your ears, my little elf.” Jace would gladly let her feel his ears, especially during the festive season. Afterwards, she’ll join the rest of the girls and leave Vin Jin to his usual shenanigans.

Eli Jang: Eli would bring his close family members with him, which was everybody that he holds dear from Hostel. Of course, this man would be styling even during the holidays. He’d be seen wearing a long light brown coat, a cream colored turtleneck sweater underneath, dark brown plaid pants, and black leather boots. When he arrives at the party with the rest of the members of Hostel behind him, people would see him carrying Yenna in his arms, as she’s dressed in a cute snowman costume. (He was hesitant to dress Yenna in it since it was given to her by Tom Lee, but he decided to let her wear it for the party since she did look adorable in it.) Of course, Zack would be the first to greet them as he’d dash towards them, especially to see his beloved “Zami”.

Jake Kim: Jake and the rest of the Big Deal crew would show up in their ugly sweaters for Christmas. He’d definitely gift everyone a Polaroid picture of him dressed in a Santa hat looking back at the camera, showing off his own ass while grinning and holding out a peace sign. At the bottom of each Polaroid picture, his own hand-written signature can be found on it, written with red marker. (When it was time for Jake to give Samuel his present, he’d walk up to him and say, “Merry Christmas bud, here’s a gift from me to you.” As he hands the picture to Samuel, Samuel’s veins would start to pop from his hands. And with a smile he’ll say, “Wow, how thoughtful of you. You know what would look even better? This…” He’d take out his lighter and would set the picture on fire in front of him, still with that menacing smile on his face. Eventually, these two would hug each other for the sake of the festive season in a passive-aggressive way, until their hug turns into a wrestling match.)

Samuel Seo: He will show up to the party, wearing a formal black suit and tie where his chest will, of course, be the center of attention through his tight outfit. When Jake sees him at the party, he would give Samuel an extra ugly sweater for him to wear, in case he wanted to join him and the rest of the Big Deal members. (Samuel declined, but then Jake would be annoying him throughout the night until he decides to put it on for him to shut up about it. Or… he might try and beat up Jake during the process.)

Johan Seong: Johan would show up to the party, dressed in all black but in a more winter-themed outfit, fit for the party. Black Santa Claus hat, while wearing a black and white snowflake patterned long-sleeved crew neck sweater, black ripped jeans, with a set of black combat boots. Little did the rest of his friends know that he’d also bring along his dog, Eden, with him to the party. He would dress Eden up for Christmas, wearing a small adorable Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer costume, which would make all of the girls fawn over Eden once they see her. (*cue Zack crying in the corner of the party as Mira leaves him to go pet Eden and talk to Johan*)

Crystal Choi: She’d be excited to see her friends again from Jaewon High but most importantly, she’d be excited to see OG Daniel again. She’d approach him and say “Merry Christmas Daniel. This is a gift from me to you and I hope you like it.” She’d give Daniel a box wrapped in Christmas-themed wrapping paper with a red bow on it and inside, would be a fancy grey scarf that she had personally bought for him. (Of course, Gun and Goo would be there sticking by her. When Daniel thanks Crystal for the gift and leaves, Goo would tease Crystal and say, “Wow, you got Daniel a present but not us?” And Crystal would point out Goo’s annoying behavior and respond with, “This is why I didn’t get you one in the first place.” And Gun would say, “That’s understandable.”)

Gun Park: Gun would accompany Crystal Choi to the party since Charles Choi advised him to keep her protected in any case that something might happen to her there. He didn’t have anything to do during the holidays, so he accepted the task at hand. While at the party, he caught Daniel Park there and he couldn’t help but want to approach him and ask him to fight him again. However, Goo caught him from the shoulder and with a smug smile, he asked him, “Aren’t you supposed to be doing your job?” With an annoyed look on his face, Gun shook him off and returned back to where he was positioned at, pissed at how Goo always manages to ruin his mood most of the time.

Goo Kim: Goo decides to tag along with Gun and Crystal, hoping that he’d somehow cause some sort of chaos whenever he’s there, just to annoy Gun with some “holiday spirit”. He’d probably chuck a bunch of Christmas ornaments and candy canes at Gun whenever he’s not paying attention to him, but Gun would pay no mind to it at all and would just ignore him. When the party is over and they all finally leave, Goo would purposely walk behind Gun and Crystal, grab a big handful of snow from the ground, and then would throw a mean snowball at Gun’s back. Gun finally cracked and had it with Goo’s bullshit as he decided to make snowballs out of snow, which would then result in an all-out snowball fight. (Crystal would just be standing there, watching them in disappointment until her ride comes to get her, leaving them both there in the snow.)

DG: DG would arrive fashionably late to the party due to his hectic schedule as a k-pop idol. However, he was basically the guy who everybody was waiting for since they heard that he’ll be holding a private concert at the party, singing his best and classic songs. At the end, he’d sing a Christmas song which would be, “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” by Frank Sinatra. He’d sing that song just to promote his Christmas cover of that song, which would soon become a holiday hit. (During the mini concert, Goo would be caught laughing due to how funny he thought of DG just dancing and singing, thrusting his hips and whatnot while performing in front of everyone.) After the concert, he’d be approached by Zoe who was a k-pop fan, who’d ask for a picture and an autograph from him. (She’s a big BTS fan, but she couldn’t help but ask DG for an autograph since this was a rare opportunity for any k-pop fan to get a hold of.)

[merakiui]

cannot stop thinking about enemies to lovers with rollo, but you’re each other’s secret santa.

Your plan is to get Rollo something he’ll never need or use (a really petty revenge on your part, but you don’t like him and in the midst of your hatred it sounds reasonable), while Rollo genuinely wants to get you something meaningful. Putting differences aside, he realizes he doesn’t know much about your preferences, so he tries to ask around without seeming too suspicious. As troublesome of a disruption as you are, everyone deserves a lovely gift for the holidays. You’ve given Rollo nothing but headaches and irritation, but since it’s the festive season he can be softer and forgive past disagreements. Anything after the holiday break is fair game, though, so it’s best to cause mischief while the holidays are in full swing because he’s prone to be only slightly less overbearing (depending on his mood as the festivities become more apparent).

Somehow, with all of his asking around, rumor spreads throughout Noble Bell that President Rollo is planning to ask you out on the eve of the holidays at exactly midnight under the bell tower. How such an absurd rumor started is beyond him, and Rollo is fully ready to refute every gossiping comment that’s boldly thrown his way, both in passing conversations and from his fellow Vice President and student aide. He cannot believe the school assumes he would even think of asking you—Noble Bell’s most notorious troublemaker—out! And during the holidays, too! He’d much rather burn to death than do something like that. He can’t stand you. How anyone thinks he’d like you enough to want to pursue romance with you is absolutely ridiculous. 

But then the idea suddenly becomes less ridiculous and more advantageous when his Vice President suggests he go on an actual date (or friendly outing; Rollo’s expression is sharp enough to kill when he hears the word ‘date’) in order to learn about what it is you like. Word of mouth isn’t as reliable as hearing it from the source. Rollo, after much consideration, supposes it isn’t terrible, but (once again) he’d rather do anything else than punish himself with a date with you, of all students. He’s so stubborn when he claims he’ll find another way, and his Vice President can only utter a soft sigh. 

As the deadline for Secret Santa approaches and Rollo overhears how the others around him have all found perfect presents, he begins to fear that he won’t ever find a gift that’s good enough for you. But why is he even trying so hard? It’s not as if he looks forward to seeing your bright smile when you unwrap it. It’s not as if he’s doing this to make you happy. This is just common courtesy. An act of goodwill from student to student, if you will. Or, in less sweet terms, an obligation he must fulfill due to the misfortune of a lottery draw. 

So he thinks nothing of it when his Vice President and student aide invite him to a café off campus as a final outing before everyone goes home for the holidays. When he walks through the door, the bell welcoming him with a cheery jingle, and he sees you sitting there he promptly turns and is ready to walk out. But you call out to him, wave with that pretty hand of yours, and he can’t stop himself from sighing. His peers lied to him; this is not an outing to celebrate the end of the semester. It’s the date he was dreading. He only stays because it’s the polite thing to do—because you’re whining about how he lacks manners and has the gall to leave a dear friend all alone after he had invited them out. 

Rollo really can’t stand you, but he must for the time being. So he slides into the chair across from you, where you’ve already ordered his favorites (he’s certain his troublesome Vice President arranged this, too). If he has to stomach an entire afternoon with you, he might as well get something out of it, so he uses the time he spends with you to learn about your preferences in hopes of getting inspiration for a gift.

Things are awkward in the beginning. Both of you are so accustomed to bickering over rules and Noble Bell’s student code of conduct that civil conversation is actually much harder to fall into. You broach the subject of that rumor that’s been going around and that’s what gets him talking. Rollo scoffs around a bite of croissant, muttering about how it’s nonsensical rubbish and that people will believe anything nowadays so long as it’s interesting. When you laugh out of relief and tell him you’re glad he doesn’t like you because that would’ve made things awkward, he feels an odd sting. Your feelings have never mattered to him, so why does he hate those words?

And why, while he talks of holiday plans with you, does he find himself smiling? Thankfully he’s brought his handkerchief along to hide his pleased expression. He’s not sure what he’d say if you were to make note of his obvious enjoyment, for even he wouldn’t be able to explain it. 

By the end of it, Rollo feels as though he’s gleaned a better understanding of you. When you aren’t actively causing a ruckus, you’re actually quite pleasant to be around. Who would have thought? Despite this, he’s still ready to head back to campus with you after a draining afternoon. But you point to a sweets shop on the way and ask if he’s ever had their winter-themed treats before. He narrows his eyes at you, as if to say, “What are you playing at?” You’re seizing his wrist and dragging him in the direction of the confectionery before he can say anything.

It feels like he’s in a cheesy holiday film, what with how you energetically peer into the jars of candies and sweets, all arranged neatly on the shelves, and the soundtrack in the shop plays festive tunes on repeat. Rollo tries to hurry you along; if anyone from school sees him with you, they’ll think the rumors are true and it’ll cause even more trouble. You yank on his scarf to keep him close, and he’s so tempted to yank you in return. But he finds that you don’t have a scarf for him to tug, and so he has to fester in his displeasure with a scowl. 

The two of you walk out with snowflake-shaped marshmallows, bell-shaped cookies, and candy canes of all flavors and colors. Rollo supposes he’s earned a sweet after dealing with your spontaneity, but then you insist on getting hot chocolate to go along with the marshmallows and now he’s being dragged to a little shop nearby. On the way there, the two of you pass a craft store and something catches his eye. He tells you to go ahead while he steps inside. You raise your brow at him but continue along, and when the two of you meet up he’s holding a bag. You question it, and he tells you to stop being so nosy. Your curiosity is quickly snuffed when you spy another storefront with windows decorated so adorably. 

At some point, in the midst of popping in and out of stores—where he continues to remind you that the both of you ought to be getting back—it begins to snow. Tiny flakes flutter to the ground, and you stick your tongue out to catch a few. They melt immediately upon contact. Rollo doesn’t realize he’s not hiding his expression until you’re gaping at him.

“What?” he asks slowly, dubiously, his eyes narrowing once more. 

“You’re smiling,” you say in awe. “I’ve never seen you smile before...”

“This smile is not for you,” he assures you with a scoff. “Stop ogling. It’s rude.”

“But you look so nice and approachable when you smile like that.”

He glares at you and the smile vanishes behind an irritated countenance and that trademark handkerchief of his. 

“I suppose,” he admits after a moment of awkward silence, “you aren’t so terrible to be around when you aren’t acting like a menace to the entirety of the student body.”

“Why, thank you, President Flamm! That’s high praise coming from you.” You lower into a dramatic bow. He rolls his eyes, but his heart skips a beat. “And you aren’t so bad either. To be honest, I thought I was done for when your VP told me you wanted to meet at the café. I thought you’d chew me out or hex me or...something.”

The mere notion that he’d do such things to you is irksome. He isn’t entirely bad or frightening. You just seem to bring those sides out when you run through the halls, pick fights, and cause disorder amongst the students. 

“Is that right?” He lowers the handkerchief, smirking. His fingers find your chin and he tilts your head to meet his stare. “Maybe you should try being less of a pain. I might show you some mercy the next time we cross paths.”

He pulls away, leaving you stunned, and turns on his heel. “Now then, we should return to campus. It’s getting late and cold, and I’d rather not get stuck in the snow.” 

Rollo doesn’t realize what he did until hours later, when he’s sitting at his desk knitting snowflake patterns into a scarf from the yarn he purchased at the craft shop. The memory has his face gradually heating up, so red and hot you could mistake it for a wavering flame. 

He can’t stand you, or so he once thought.

The gift bag sits innocently in front of your dorm door. There’s a card attached, but the sender’s true name isn’t written. Rather, a lovely message has been penned in curling script: Happy holidays. Do take care to bundle up. It gets rather cold around this time of year. I would hate to see you frostbitten and ill the next time we meet. Sincerely, your Secret Santa. Inside the bag are a scarf, a bag of assorted candies from a confectionery in the city, hot chocolate mix, and a mug with moon and star patterns. It’s a very comfortable gift, and you can’t help but admire the handmade scarf’s quality. 

You have your suspicions, but there’s no way such a kind gift could come from Rollo. He’s made it quite clear that he dislikes you, and you feel the same way. It’s probably from his VP, right? He did ask you a few questions about gift preferences, so it’s quite plausible that he’s your Secret Santa.

Rollo is in the middle of penning his thoughts in his diary when there’s a sharp knock at his door. And then frantic footsteps echo down the hall. He opens the door in hopes of catching the culprit, but he finds emptiness instead. His gaze travels down to the gift box that rests at his feet. It’s been wrapped in blue and white paper and has been taped rather sloppily. With raised brows, he gathers the gift in his arms and shuts the door, curiosity mounting. 

The card taped to it is the first thing he opens. It reads: I really don’t know you that well and I have no idea what you like or what you do in your free time, so if you ever learn my identity please don’t give me another detention for this gift. I tried my best! In any case, happy holidays, Rollo. You deserve a break. See you next year! From, your super cool and super secretive secret santa!!! When he unwraps the gift and peels the lid back, an amused smile pulls at his lips. Inside the box is a croissant plush with beady, little eyes and a cute smile. There’s also a sugar cookie-scented candle and an astronomy-themed stationery kit.  

Rollo sets the gifts on his desk, lowers into his chair, and flips to a new page in his diary. His heart feels oddly light as he scribbles a fresh entry.

I think I’m falling in love, are the first words that stain the page. And it isn’t a terrible feeling.