#christmas eve fluff

[linasofia]

(I hope you don't mind me sending this to you. Please use it however you'd like; a fic, head canon post, or even just a talk about how you think things would go)

It's Christmas Eve and Father Quart is running the Midnight Mass service. What happens when he finally gets home to you?

Thanks @fizzyxcustard for dropping this in my ask box. I hope you’ll like it. Merry Christmas! ❤️

The snow crunches under his weight as he walks the short distance to your little cottage. Father Quart left church in a haste after Midnight Mass and forgot to change into his heavier winter boots. The well-polished shoes he wears for church are not the best choice for slippery winter roads, but he manages to get to your front door without any misadventures. When he knocks on the door, the sound is muffled by his thick gloves but he knows you will hear it anyway. He’s expected. Longed for, even.

You open the door with a warm smile. Seeing the man who earned the key to your heart always brings joy and gratefulness to your chest. He’s your guardian light, your evening star and your heart’s compass. You, in return, are his safe haven when he doubts, his small piece of heaven, and the woman who made him realize that he has room for more than the Lord in his heart. Your secret relationship is not easy for either of you, but you have both agreed that what you share is worth the effort.

You allow Lorenzo to take off his winter coat before you throw your arms around his neck. He hugs you tightly back, and you lose yourself in his smell. The cologne he put on this morning still lingers on his skin, and you rest your nose against his neck while you give him a gentle kiss on his stubbled jaw. He cups your cheek and returns the affection, his kiss deep and sensual.

”Are you tired? I made tea if you want some.” You ask when he releases you from his embrace.

”Not really tired and I’d love to have tea with you.” Your thoughtfulness is one of the first things he noticed about you, and he appreciates your attempts to make your life together as normal as it can be. ”How are you feeling now?”

For the last couple of days your sore throat has been bothering you, but this morning you finally felt better. You chose to not attend Midnight Mass, even if you have looked forward to it for a long time, since you don’t want to risk ruining the holidays for other people by giving them a cold. Lorenzo, however, refused to stay away from you.

”I feel much better, I think it’s finally over.”

He gives you a kiss on your forehead. ”That’s the best Christmas present.” Then he looks down at your tights and oversized knitted sweater and smiles warmly. With a swift move, he pulls off his jacket. ”I’ll go and put on something else.”

You head for the kettle in the kitchen, and Lorenzo goes to your bedroom. He has his own drawer where he keeps some clothes and underwear. As you fill the mugs, you hear him pull out the drawer and go through his choices. While you’re seated on your sofa, he finally joins you, wearing grey sweatpants and a navy t-shirt. If you didn’t know, he would never be taken for a priest in this outfit. The t-shirt hugs his broad shoulders in a very flattering way and his sweatpants, well, you could probably write a poem about how well they fit him.

The tea with Christmas spices smells lovely but the steam rising from the mugs is a silent warning to be careful. You hand Lorenzo a gingerbread, and he takes it with a smirk. ”Are you feeding me cookies so I will be good to you tonight?”

You let out a short laugh. He looks playful, but you know what he means, and just the thought of him teasing every part of your sensitive body until you almost lose your senses, is enough to make your skin heat up.

”Maybe,” you wink at him as he takes a bite. You have already had a few—the baker needs to approve, right? But you take one more. It’s Christmas after all.

The open fire spreads its warm light over your living room, and you look around, pleased with how your decorations turned out. The tree with its baubles and the beautiful star at the top, the white mittens you use instead of socks and fill with green twigs. Your eyes fall on your newest addition, the small but very cute Yule goat you bought a week ago at the local market. He stands guard next to the little pile of carefully wrapped Christmas gifts. Lorenzo gently puts his arm around your shoulder and holds you close. He snuggles your hair and hums when you place your hand on his chest. Your living room breathes calmness; the only sounds are the ones coming from the open fire.

When you reach for your tea, Lorenzo lovingly strokes your back. The tea has cooled enough to be drinkable, and after you taste the first sip, you make a mental note to buy more of the wonderful blend. It’s flavored with oranges and cinnamon, and together with the gingerbread, it can’t taste more like Christmas. You wish time would stop so the two of you could stay like this forever. But all the preparations finally claim your energy, and you yawn.

”It’s getting late.” Lorenzo murmurs against your hair. ”I better eat one more cookie before I take you to bed, so I can be really good to you.” His voice holds the most delicious promise, and you know you will not fall asleep unsatisfied tonight.

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[eddiesghxst]

❆ Let It Snow - a christmas smutty special ❆

happy holidays lovelys!!! ilysm and i hope you all have a beautiful rest of your year, here is a cute n quick little Christmas smutty blurb as my gift to u <3

also, this is not proofread i apologize for any mistakes <3

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: roomate!eddie munson x reader

summary: your flight home gets canceled on christmas eve and Eddie just wants to cheer you up

contains: friends to lovers trope, reader loves christmas (she's so me), oral (f receiving), p in v (unprotected - be smart pls), creampie, lots of Christmas cheer, and eddie being the cutest most kindest boy there ever was <3

word count: 3.6k

-masterlist-

Christmas is ruined.

It’s Christmas Eve, and you’ve been rotting away in your room all day— it’s now almost six in the afternoon— and Christmas is ruined.

In the corner of your room, your bags lay in a pile, packed and ready to go for the flight home you were supposed to be on just less than an hour ago. Your mother was devastated when you called her to break the news that you wouldn’t be home in time for Christmas, and although she tried her hardest to mask it over the phone, acting was never really her niche.

You’d already cried once this morning, a pathetic sob that inevitably escaped the second you opened your blinds and saw the blinding-white thick blanket of snow covering Hawkins. It’s not common, heavy winter snows in Indiana, so when the news mentioned that there would be a chance of snow, you didn’t think much of it.

Wrong choice.

You should’ve changed your ticket immediately and got on the next plane to Oregon, where your family would be with warm laughter and endless amounts of food, not to mention the traditional tree lighting you’d miss out on. But now, you’re stuck in Hawkins, chest hollow and cold from the undeniable fact that you will miss Christmas with your family this year.

Suddenly, you hear a raspy curse from the other side of your wall, followed by haste movements and the rustling of sheets and clothes. Eddie’s finally up from his nap. You can’t wait to tell him how stupid you’d been to book a flight so late on Christmas Eve.

Before you can even think of getting up and going to Eddie’s room, the man bursts through your door with a frazzled look as his gaze darts around the room, “Why didn’t you wake me? You’re gonna be late for your flight!” He panics. It’s sweet, really. The way your roommate paces over to your bags and looks at you with a ‘Why aren’t these in the car yet?’ look. It almost makes you hopeful that somehow, now that Eddie’s bright and sunny self is awake, he can find a way to get you home just in time for Christmas.

Obviously, it's not happening, considering Eddie isn’t a god, but one can dream.

You groan, tossing over in your bed to burrow your face deep into your sheets as you mumble into the soft cotton, “I’m not going anymore.” You grumble.

You can hear Eddie’s frown when he responds, “What? What do you mean you’re not going?”

You huff, heart aching as you reply, “Have you looked outside by any chance?”

You don’t turn to watch, but you can hear the shuffling sound of Eddie walking over to your window, shucking the blinds open, and peering out into the parking lot of your apartment that’s covered in that godawful snow. Eddie lets out a sound, something between surprise and sympathy, and it only makes the frown on your face deepen.

“Well… shit,” Eddie says.

You turn over and sit up, huffing as you shove your sheets out of your way, “Yeah. Have fun trying to figure out a way to get me across the country with that type of weather.” You grunt, kicking your legs over the side of your bed to stand and shuffle over to the packed suitcases. You figure you may as well unpack since you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.

“So when are the airports gonna clear, did they say?” Eddie asks.

You huff as you unfold jeans and tops, mind reeling with scenarios of what you should’ve done to prevent this. “Not until tomorrow afternoon. Christmas will be done by then, and most of my family will be back in their respective homes, so… looks like you’re stuck with me, Munson.”

Which, sure Eddie practically threw a fit when you told him you’d be out of town for the holidays, but you still feel as if you’re intruding. Eddie was supposed to have Wayne come over tomorrow, but you’re going to be here probably sulking, and it’ll be awkward and pitiful, and it’s just not at all what you’d wanted your or Eddie’s Christmas to be like! 

“...Okay, well,” Before you can fully register what’s happening, Eddie is closing your suitcase and grabbing your hands, dragging you up to your feet and ignoring your confusion as he speaks, “You can’t spend Christmas like this, sweetheart. You’ll end up like the Grinch. Do you wanna be the Grinch? Don’t tell me you wanna be the Grinch.” Eddie rambles as he drags you out of your room.

You try to fight a smile at Eddie’s rapid fire of words, but you fail as you shake your head, “No, I don’t want to be the Grinch, asshole.” You grumble as he drops your hand.

Eddie drops your hand and claps loudly, a bright grin spreading over his lips when he turns to you, “Wonderful! Then we have to get in the Christmas spirit.”

Eddie leaves you confused in the small hallway of your shared apartment, watching as he chaoticly prances over to the kitchen. He slows down and turns back to you once he sees you’re not following him, a confused expression painting over his face. “Well? Are you gonna leave me to bake alone, or are you gonna join?”

And well, you’ve never seen Eddie even pick up a baking pan, so it’s safe to say this will be interesting.

Eddie is absolutely terrible with ingredients. 

You and Eddie both decided to bake cookies, but instead of regular chocolate chips, Eddie pitched in the idea of using red and green M&Ms for the holiday effect, which you thought was pretty clever. The only problem is Eddie can’t measure for shit.

The recipe calls for two tablespoons of cornstarch, Eddie two and a half— damn near three. The next step says to mix in a third of a cup of cooking oil, but Eddie puts in much too little. It’s odd, considering his past with drug dealing, but you don’t mention it and instead opt to discreetly correct his mistakes whenever he turns his back to grab something else.

You both end up covered in flour because the pesky powder honestly just doesn't under the concept of gravity, and you laugh when you see some coating Eddie’s eyelashes. “What’s so funny, chef?” He asks.

You smile, “Nothing, you’ve just got… you got some on your eyes.” You reach up with a gentle hand, the sleeves of your sweater long enough to pull over your thumb so you can carefully dust off the white powder.

Eddie’s eyes are so bright and attentive this close, watching your every move with a type of sincerity you’ve only ever seen on screens from Grammy-nominated films and such. It makes your chest warm, and your knees quiver as his lips split into a smile, “Thank you, princess.” He softly says. You nod, and you swear Eddie’s eyes fucking twinkle.

You clear your throat, blinking away and stepping back to clear whatever trance from your mind, “Well,” You heavily sigh, “The cookies are in the oven for the next hour, so… I think I’m gonna go read.”

“Actually,” Eddie pipes up, softly reaching out and letting his fingers brush against yours, “I was thinking we could watch a Christmas movie. Unless if you’re sick of me, I totally get it; I’ll call you when the cookies are ready.”

Which couldn’t be further from the truth. You didn’t want to read. Hell, you don’t even have a new book to read; you’ve gone through your entire reading list.

“Oh! Well, what movie did you have in mind?”

“Home Alone. Obviously.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re a Christmas amateur, Eddie, did you know that?”

Eddie waves a dismissive hand as you begin to smile, reaching out to spin you around and shove you toward your room, “Just go get in some comfy clothes.”

You snort as you follow his instructions, shuffling over to your room to change out of your flour-coated clothing. It takes you some time to dig through your suitcase, but you eventually find the cute pajama set you bought for the holidays and slip it on, eager to return to the living room and join Eddie.

When you step into the living room, you don’t expect to see furniture pushed out of the way and Eddie standing in the middle as he pushes his queen-sized mattress down to lie right in the middle of the room—your heart races when you realize what Eddie’s done.

“Eddie, what are you doing?” You softly ask.

Eddie looks up at you, heavily breathing as he places his hands on his hips, “It’s Christmas Eve!” He beams. You tilt your head with a scolding expression, “I remember you saying you did this with your family, so I figured we gotta keep the tradition going.” He shrugs.

And god, Eddie’s so lovely. Too nice for his own good, really. Your entire body warms at the gesture, watching as he bustles around the apartment, grabbing blankets and pillows to make a comfy nest-like bed.

Seeing Eddie prepare the room wasn’t confusing because you kind of figured that’s what he was doing when you initially saw it, but you became concerned when you saw him drag a tall fake plant across the room.

Eddie steps back and gazes at the fake plant, face twisted in concentration, “Where should it go? The corner, right?” He turns to you. Your brows scrunch in confusion, “Uh… you’re losing me.”

Eddie blinks at you as if you’ve just asked him if the sky is blue, “The Christmas tree, doll. Where should it go?”

You raise an eyebrow, “That’s not a Christmas tree, Eddie, that’s a fake Cat Palm.” Eddie makes a face as if you’ve insulted him, “Says who?”

“Says anyone with general knowledge of the world.” “Why can’t this tree be a Christmas tree? As far as I know, they both have the same qualities that allow them to classify as a tree.” And you’re not going to argue with Eddie on that because he’s being sweet, and you’re interested to see what wacky plan he’s concocted in that brain of his.

So, for the next hour or so, you and Eddie sit on his comfy bed in the living room and use copy paper to cut out shitty snowflakes to put on the ‘Christmas tree’ as you watch Home Alone.

It’s undeniably the most fun you’ve had in a while, and you and Eddie turn your craft into a competition to see who can make the best snowflake, but you keep snipping the wrong spots to create an absolute disgrace of a snowflake. Eddie thinks they’re ‘fucking insane. In a good way!’ though, so you can’t complain.

“These are fucking awful.”

Home Alone 2 is playing, the Christmas tree is fully decorated, and you and Eddie have settled in his bed with a plate full of cookies. It’s a cozy little setup you’ve got, and your cheeks are warm from laughter, and you’ve never felt this content with anyone besides family. And to make matters even better, the cookies taste like absolute shit.

You look at Eddie, gazing at his horrified expression momentarily before bursting into a snort. Eddie looks at you, terror written across his face as you fold in laughter. 

“These are seriously the worst cookies I’ve ever tasted.” He reiterates. 

You manage to calm your laughter down just enough to respond, “They’re not that bad.” 

You and Eddie share a look before you burst into laughter again, “Yeah, they’re pretty bad.” You admit. Eddie joins you in laughter, shaking his head as he offers you the plate of cookies so you can put your half-bitten cookie away. “Remind me to never enter a bake-off,” Eddie grumbles as he reaches over to set the cookies on the coffee table pushed off to the side.

You and Eddie settle into his cozy bed then, content on holiday cheer and the comforting presence of one another. You’re pressed close to each other so you can share the bowl of popcorn you’d made, and you try to ignore how the close proximity makes your insides squeal. You glance at Eddie as you roll an unpopped kernel between your fingers.

“Thank you.”

Eddie turns to you, eyebrows raised in alert. You gesture to the atmosphere of your apartment, “For this, I mean. You didn’t have to do any of this.” 

Eddie makes a face and waves you off, “It’s nothing, princess. Couldn’t have you sad on your favorite holiday of the year.”

Your cheeks warm as you gaze at Eddie, chest feeling so much appreciation for his efforts today. Eddie didn’t have to do any of this. He could’ve just said sorry for your shit luck and called it a day, but he took it upon himself to make your ruined holiday into, arguably, one of the best Christmas you’ve had in a while.

“I mean, come on, you heard how badly I was begging you to stay home anyway. Some might even say I got Mother Nature to ring in a favor.” He jokes as he gently nudges his shoulder against yours. You roll your eyes, briefly returning to the movie as you respond, “You’re dramatic, Eddie. I was gonna be gone for two days.” You point out.

“Two days too long!” He stresses, “What was I supposed to do while you were gone?”

You snort, tossing popcorn in your mouth before speaking, “You were gonna be with Wayne anyway; you’d hardly even think about me.” You wave.

Eddie makes a displeased noise, poking at the popcorn in the bowl, “That’s not true.” He softly responds. You glance at Eddie, heart racing when he locks eyes with you. “Wayne isn’t half as pretty as you, so.” He jokes, a small smile spreading across his lips.

You shyly smile, “You think I’m pretty?” You tease.

Eddie smiles with his eyes, “I think you’re gorgeous, actually.”

And god, you think you imagine it when Eddie’s gaze falls to your lips, but then he’s reaching out to gently drag his thumb across your bottom lip. You lean into him on instinct, body aching for his touch, lips crying out to feel his lips on yours, and thankfully, Eddie doesn’t make you wait long before leaning forward.

Eddie’s lips are soft and perfect for kissing. Plump and addicting to the touch as he moves in tandem with you, hands gently caressing your face as you press into each other. You can’t contain the whine bubbling in your throat, and you almost feel embarrassed, but Eddie responds with a moan, hands moving south to softly grab your waist and pull you closer.

You almost can’t believe this is happening— you making out with your roommate on Christmas Eve— but you figure it was about time that you two shattered the thick wall of tension and desire that’d been building between you both. Stolen glances and lingering touches in the kitchen, too-close dancing at parties, and almost kisses during goodbyes have all led to this very moment as Eddie shifts to lay you back into the mountain of pillows.

You shakily breathe against Eddie’s lips when his fingers dust across your stomach, softly pressing into your warm skin to pull a squeal from your lips. You can feel the spread of his smile against the corner of our mouth, and you squirm as he peppers a few kisses there, “Gonna let me taste you, princess?” He asks, fingers caressing the skin just above the waistband of your festive shorts. You swallow heavily and nod, eyes dancing with his when he leans back just enough to see your face. “Words?”

“Yeah. Yes, please.”

Your voice hardly even sounds like your own. Needy and higher pitched and almost humiliating, but Eddie’s smattering kisses down your chin and neck, hands riding your shirt up your stomach so he can kiss the warm skin there. You softly exhale, reaching up to sink your fingers through his hair and gently tug. He groans against you, softly nipping the fat of your hip as his fingers curl over the band of your shorts. He drags the pants down your legs, sitting up to take them off and toss them to the side. He parts your thighs, a smug grin spreading across his lips as he gazes down at you, your socked feet digging into the sheets as he runs his ringed hands up your legs. “Stop staring.” You grumble.

Eddie chuckles, leaning forward to kiss your stomach and then the band of your panties, “Candy canes, huh?” He peers up at you as he plays with the tiny bow on your pelvis. Your face warms, center throbbing as you squirm beneath him. “Hey,” You frown, “It was a matching set and I thought they were cute.” You explain, nudging him with your foot. Which is true, the set came with a bra, panties, and socks, and it was on sale, so of course you bought it.

Eddie laughs as he settles on his stomach, “Oh, you’re fuckin’ precious,” He beams to himself. Your chest warms, and he leans forward to kiss just over your covered clit, “I love them, sweetheart.” Another kiss pressed to your hip this time. “I love them a lot, actually.” A kiss to the other hip, and you squirm. His lashes flutter when he peers up at you, fingers squeezing your hips as he speaks, “Unfortunately… they’re kind of in the way.”

You playfully roll your eyes, losing the fight to your smile as you respond, “Just take them off, Eddie.”

Eddie’s eyes light up, hands moving quicker than you’ve ever seen to get rid of the candy cane printed barrier, happily settling back on his stomach and curling his hands around your thighs to pull you closer. He doesn’t give you any warning when he dives in, licking a thick and wet line from your entrance to your clit. He circles the tip of his tongue over your clit, grinning when you moan and twitch from the sensation. He hums as he suckles your clit into his mouth, licking and sucking as if his life depends on it, fingers squeezing at your thighs and hips. You’re drowning in pleasure, but you think you can hear the muffled sound of Eddie mumbling, ‘Fuck, you taste so good’ against you, and it makes your head spin.

You’re a goner when he sinks two fingers into you, expertly curling up against that toe-curling spot to have you crying out his name and arching up into him. He hums against you, nodding his head in encouragement as you cum on his tongue.

You’re blinking through a pleasure-filled haze when Eddie kisses up your body, sticky lips smearing wet pecks across your stomach as he pushes your shirt further up.

You help each other undress the rest of the way, your limbs shaky and clumsy from your orgasm, and Eddie chuckles but kisses you when you glare at him. Your hand wraps around his cock, but Eddie shakes his head, grasping your wrist as he pushes you back into his bed, “I can’t wait. Next time, yeah? Need you now.”

You wouldn’t dream of saying no.

The stretch of Eddie is so much yet so good. It burns, and it takes your breath away, but it sends chills up your back with the heavenly sensation as he presses into you, balls pressing against your ass as he leans over you and moans against your lips. “F–fuck. Jesus, you feel so fucking good.” 

You mewl, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pressing your body into him. “Please, Eddie. Please fuck me, please.”

“Yeah,” He gently coos as he pulls out. He pushes back in, watching as your eyes flutter shut and your lips part in ecstasy, and he hums, “There we go. Taking me so well, baby. Gonna give it all to you— h-holy shit.”

He builds his pace slowly but surely, and you’re so embarrassingly close by the time he’s steadily pumping into you, the loud sound of your sex echoing between your bodies in tandem with your moans. 

You moan, nails digging into Eddie’s shoulders as you breathe him in, digging your face into his neck and finding solace in the curtain of his curly strands as he holds you close. Eddie groans when you throb around his aching cock, and he nods, “Give it to me. Cum on my cock, baby. Let me feel it.” He gently encourages you, a warm hand pressing into your back as he kisses your neck. You don’t know if you could get any closer, your chests pressed together, skin sticky with sweat as you grind against one another.

You tip over the edge quicker than you’d want to because you want this to last forever, but Eddie coos and holds you through it all, and you feel like you’re floating through clouds of stardust with Eddie kissing you and thrusting into you.

You’re out of it when Eddie cums. So far gone and high on pleasure that all you can do is moan and nuzzle into his neck to kiss and lick and bite as he empties himself into your pulsing cunt.

You’re both breathing heavily, Eddie collapsing against you but holding himself up just enough so he doesn’t crush you. You’re both silent as you catch your breath, softly running your fingers through Eddie’s hair as the ending credits to Home Alone 2 roll. Against the skin of your neck, you feel Eddie’s lips spread into a sleepy smile, and you can’t help but smile as well as you speak, “What?” You softly ask.

Eddie breathes, shifting so he can nuzzle his face further into your neck, breathing in the scent of you and sex.

“Nothing, just… I’m so fucking glad it snowed.”

[vinniesmuse]

need him under my tree in the morning shirtless, messy hair, and with hera.

or in my bed naked. either works

[une-femme-de-lettres]

Festive Spirit

Pairing: Ghost x Reader (mutual pining only) Word count: 3880 Warnings: none, just pure fluff Summary: The Task Force 141 is forced to lay low after a particularly demanding mission. There’s no going home for the Holidays this year but you want to give your boys some of the festive spirit of the season. Note: I just love them so fucking much!! And I’m a sucker for domestic fluff so there you go! Link to Masterlist

“Hey…” Your voice is quiet as you enter the small kitchen where Price is busy filling a mug with hot water. Your eyes dart to the window above the counter top, soft white light is projecting onto the ceiling of the rundown apartment you are currently staying in. It snowed again last night.

“Slept in today, Shells?” he asks with a smile, handing you the mug he just filled and completed with a bag of tea and three sugar cubes. You smile back and take the object, enjoying the feeling of warmth seeping through your fingers.

“Just had a rough night,” you say, making your way to sit at the table, grabbing a spoon while passing by the counter. “That’s all,” you finish in a smile. You’ve not been spending the calmest nights lately, memories of your latest mission still running around your mind, keeping you awake and alert at all times. This added to the fact that at least two of your teammates have been keeping the whole place filled with their snoring every night. Speaking of which…

“Where is everyone?” you ask curiously, watching Price sit at the table, on the chair opposite from you, with a light grunt.

“They went out for a run,” he says, making you huff. In that weather? So it is true that 141 members have a death wish…

“You stayed?” you ask Price matter-of-factly, your spoon clinking against the walls of your mug as you calmly stir the sugar into your hot beverage.

“We need to stick together as much as we can, just in case, while we’re laying low,” he explained, making you nod slowly.

“Right,” you reply, still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “How long until we can return to base?”

“Not for some time, unfortunately,” he sighs, looking at you with a sorry expression. He lets out a breathy chuckle. “I’m gonna have to spend another Holiday season stuck in a safe house with a bunch of riled up guys.”

“Yeah,” you laugh in turn. Truth is, having to spend this time of year with your colleagues was not the best case scenario, but they were somewhat like a family to you still. So might as well enjoy the turn of events and make the most of it. Especially considering what you have gone through these past few days.

“Well, about that,” you start, your voice slightly quieter as if you feared some of your teammates might still be in the next room, able to hear your conversation. “I wanted to talk to you,” you say, watching Price sit a little closer to the table, attentively listening to you.

You proceed to explain to him what you have in mind. You want to celebrate the holidays in some way, and the best thing you’ve found would be buying a small gift for everyone along with a few decorations to bring the festive spirit into your temporary habitation. A nice home-cooked meal would be nice too, but that is definitely a plus, if you manage. Progressively, you see his face light up with a warm smile, making his eyes squint ever so slightly. Wrinkles appear around them.

“That’s…” he starts, contemplating your proposition, “I’ve not even thought about it, that’s very thoughtful of you,” he says and you have to keep yourself from smiling too much. Your heart beats faster at the prospect of carrying out your little plan.

“Well, you know this mission’s been rough on all of us so…” you explain, a few images projecting inside your mind. You try to cut them out, looking over at him. He gets up slowly, approaching you as you take a sip of your beverage.

“You finish your tea and pack what you need, I’m gonna get the car ready, yeah?” he says, cocking an eyebrow. You smile.

“Thanks John.”

“S’ nothing,” he replies, chuckling and patting the top of your head before exiting the kitchen, leaving you to figure out more details about your plan.

The location of your safe house is a rather small city. But it has a pretty extensive retail park at the edge of town with a large range of mainly chain stores. Perfect for what you have to do.

The place is bustling with activity, with people getting ready to celebrate Christmas Eve tonight. People buying last minute gifts. People gathering supplies for the five course meal they’re about to feed their families. And people simply shopping or wandering around town just to kill some time before tonight.

You visit a pound shop first. You have a pretty good idea of what you’ll be able to find for your teammates around here. But you still ask Price for advice, just in case. He knows them better than you do after all. You also take the time to gather a few decorations to cheer up your space, garlands, a comically small Christmas tree and a few ornaments. Price follows you closely, offering to carry the stuff you collect along the way. You don’t have that many things so you dismiss his help with a grateful word.

Still unable to think of anything else but your job for a day, you also take advantage of your little adventure to stock up on a few supplies in other stores. Mainly food but also various consumables and material that you could use in intervention, just in case you have to get back on the field immediately.

By now, a couple of hours have passed and Price suggests you get lunch somewhere. You stop at a chain fast-food restaurant. It would definitely be better for discretion to eat in the car or grab take out to eat home but you still have a few things to grab here after lunch and Price is not about to let you freeze to death in the middle of a parking lot. You take a seat in a small booth in a corner of the restaurant and quietly eat your meal.

You start a nice little conversation with Price that ends up with him talking about a few of his past Holiday experiences. He talks to you about how he had to spend Christmas Eve at Credenhill with the boys one year. And how Soap had forced Ghost to put up decorations in the base’s common room with him then. He even managed to get Ghost to wear one of those Santa hats, over the mask, of course, for maximum effect. He then stops for a second and wonders. You look at him curiously and he smiles, preparing his question for you.

“What’s the best Christmas present you ever got?” he asks, amused at the memories forming in his own mind. You chuckle, your eyes darting to the food in front of you as you think about it.

“I was ten, I got my first camera,” you finally say excitedly, still trying to gather up the few memories you had of that time. “It was one of those Polaroid camera things,” you explain, mimicking the object with your hands.

He can’t keep his eyes away from you, you’re talking about it with a bewildered expression on your face. It warms his heart.

“I took that thing everywhere, everything I saw I would photograph,” you sigh. “And I would hoard the pictures in my room, some weren’t even legible but I just wanted to keep them all,” you finish with a chuckle and a shrug.

“You’re a photographer,” he says matter-of-factly, leaning back in his seat. He tries to hide a fact that he is delighted to learn more things about you. Or even just to hear you speak so openly, especially when you’ve been so quiet and reserved lately.

“Well I kind of stopped with the years, and with work…” you explain with a sad smile. Price moves the conversation to another light topic and you keep conversing quietly until you’re both done eating.

Your search then continues in other stores. At some point, Price leaves your side to get to another store, designating the car you came in as your rally point. It’ll give you time to go to your last destination. You still needed to get a gift for your Captain.

Once you’re both back at the vehicle, you ask him for one last stop at the Tesco store nearby. You still want to get some sort of meal ready for Christmas Eve but the kitchen in your safe house won’t exactly allow for extensive cooking. You end up settling for a bunch of frozen pizzas that you’ll be able to cook in the small oven there. Good enough…

Of course by the time you’re back, the boys have returned from their little training session but you manage to sneak what you’ve bought inside without raising suspicion. You pretend to have a mild headache to retreat inside your room for the next hours. Price, your partner in crime, plays along and checks up on you from time to time, making sure to also keep the others busy so they don’t question your absence too much.

Price’s whole ‘We forgot to get a few things this morning, boys…’ spiel seems to have worked as he manages to make your teammates leave the safe house long enough at the beginning of the evening for you to put up the decorations and start the pizzas. You quickly decorate the main space as you don’t know how long they’ll take to come back from their supply run.

You place the small pre-decorated tree in the centre of the coffee table in front of the couch. You surround it with the wrapped gifts and you see Price smile at you from the corner of your eyes.

“Is one of those for me?” he asks with a chuckle. You stand up from your kneeling position on the floor and get back to hanging the tinsel garlands on the wall with tape.

“Don’t you dare peeking, Price,” you threaten and he laughs it off.

As the clock is ticking, you only feel your heart beating faster and faster, making you slightly out of breath. You can’t help picturing the events of the night ahead and you often have to snap out of your reverie to focus on your current tasks.

You know your teammates are returning when you hear their heavy footsteps in the stairwell outside the apartment. You jump up to wait by the front door impatiently. Price looks at you from inside the kitchen, his heart already melting at the sight.

Soap is the first to enter the apartment, shoulders and head covered in a light dusting of snow. You smile at him as his eyes widen with at sight before him.

“Steamin’ Jesus, Lass… what’s all this?” he mumbles under his breath.

The others soon follow. Ghost stays behind for a moment, closing and locking up the door. Gaz takes a moment to look around at the decorations, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You did all that?” He asks and you shrug.

“Might have gotten someone’s help…” you say with a mischievous smile and a quick look back at Price. Gaz gives a knowing look and nod in the older man’s direction.

Your eyes are on Ghost, then. He looks in slight awe before your desire to have them spend joyful Holidays in your small safe house. But a very light shade of sorrow tints his gaze. You feel your heart sink inside your chest ever so slightly.

“Happy Christmas, boys…�� you mumble, your throat unable to let out louder words.

Soap hugs you tightly and thanks you sincerely. The gesture puts joy in his heart in that time when he can’t be with his own family. Gaz does too, before his gaze meets the coffee table and the presents laid on it. He laughs, you really went all out.

You join Price in the kitchen while Soap, Ghost and Gaz get rid of their snow-covered outerwear and put away the supplies they just bought. You notice from your spot inside the small room that Soap has found the red and white Santa hat you got earlier. He excitedly puts it on his head, before the disapproving looks of his teammates, especially Ghost’s. But he doesn’t care because he can see how it makes you smile, and that’s all that matters to him.

The cheap pizzas start smelling really good and you can’t stop smiling in anticipation. Price teases you for it but you know from the look in his eyes he’s currently the happiest man on Earth.

You end up all sitting around the small coffee table, either on the floor or on the couch. You suggest Price sits on the couch - it’s better for his hips - and he curses at your insolence. The pizzas join your little reunion and you start eating eagerly.

Some anecdotes about past Christmas experiences are exchanged just like earlier today when you had lunch with Price. Soap tells you about his own side of the story and even Ghost joins into the conversation. He looks way more excited than earlier but he can’t help adverting his gaze every time your eyes meet him, making him pause for a second before speaking again.

After your meal, you quickly debate opening the gifts in the morning as is tradition, but you end up settling for unwrapping them tonight. No one says it, but everyone knows why.

Price is the first to get his present. You insist on giving it to him first as he was the one that helped you make this day truly count. You can see his face turning a very light shade of red when you hand him the gift from your spot on the floor. He can’t help but smile.

He smiles even wider, if it were even possible, when he takes a black woollen beanie hat out of the box. The wool is soft against his fingers and the colour is a deep shade, discreet and elegant.

“Just in case you want to get rid of that old bucket hat…” you say under your breath, suppressing a laugh. Soap chuckles and, for a split second, you’re sure you can hear Ghost let out a small laugh too. Maybe your senses are playing tricks on you.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad!!” Price replies, looking slightly offended. Gaz raises an eyebrow and cocks his head.

“It’s pretty bloody ugly, mate…” Soap says with a dramatic squint in Prices direction.

Price still thanks you warmly, even after your little show of humour. Soap’s gift comes next. You hand it to him from across the table and he eagerly takes it, unwrapping it quickly. You didn’t know Soap that well so you asked Price for what to get him. Your heart beats faster as he opens it, you hope he’ll find it nice.

He unwraps a small dog plush toy. A German Shepherd with a small keychain so he can keep it on his equipment, you thought. The animal looks cute, with big blue eyes, it reminded you of him a little when you got it.

“I was told you really like dogs,” you explain shyly. Price starts laughing silently and Soap looks up at him with an angry look.

“Oh that’s funny now,” he says sarcastically with a nod. Your expression falters as you get it. Soap hates dogs - they scare him shitless, in fact.

You feel played and frown at Price. But suddenly your eyes are wide and on Ghost again as he laughs along with Price. He looks over at Soap who’s sitting beside him, thinking for a second. You can see his eyes fill with a mischief you’ve rarely witnessed on him. It suits him.

“Maybe you’d prefer half of it?” he asks Soap. The sergeant’s shoulders drop again.

“Come on, L.t…” he says under his breath, making Ghost and Price laugh harder. Your eyes remain on Ghost for a moment, his eyes slightly squinting with the smile hidden under his mask. He looks happy, he looks… cute?

With this, Soap moves to sit beside you and give you another hug as a thank you. He whispers in your ear that he absolutely love the small toy, no matter what the others might say. Your heart flutters inside your chest.

After Soap’s comes Gaz’s present. You hand it to him like you did for the others and he smiles gently. He looks around at his teammates while opening it, curious of what little trick you had in mind for him. He takes a second to read the cover of the book he just unwrapped.

“10 subtle ways to prove your superiors wrong without getting fired,” he says, you smile when he looks at you. “Nice one, Kid,” he says with a chuckle. You know of his aversion for blindly following orders and respecting stupid regulations. Doesn’t really sits right with him, does it?

“Is this directed towards me?” Price asks tentatively, casting a suspicious look towards you.

“Nah, it’s for higher up, Captain,” Gaz responds, winking at you.

You’re glad he gets it. This is a stupid gift, you know it. But again, every one of them is some kind of joke. And they wouldn’t have liked it any other way.

Ghost’s turn finally comes. You can’t help but feel a little shier handing the present to him. You try to look at him in the eyes. He looks back.

“Ghost, here’s yours,” you say quietly and he nods.

“Thanks.” His voice comes out colder than he would’ve liked. You swallow a small lump in your throat.

Inside the package is a pair of black socks with a white skeleton feet print on them. They match his gloves and his mask. You tilt your head slightly.

“To keep you warm,” you add quietly as you see his eyes going from the socks to you, widening ever so slightly. You swear you can see his cheekbones raise slightly under his mask.

A heavy silence stretches between you all. This one’s meant as a joke too, but it’s way more than that to him. And the words you just let out are proof that you care more for him than you actually realize. You notice that only now that you spoke them.

“They were leftover from the Halloween section…” Price’s playful voice breaks the silence and you turn to him, trying to silence him with a gesture of your hand.

“Shhhhh, stop!” you exclaim, extending your arm to try and hit him in the shin before turning to Ghost again. “Don’t listen to him,” you say, pointing at Price.

“It’s true though,” Price continues, making the others laugh. Of course they were on clearance after Halloween season was over but you don’t want that fact to make this gift seem any less thoughtful. Ghost doesn’t see it that way. He speaks to you sincerely.

“Thank you, Shells,” he says with an amused voice, making you pause for a second. “For everything you did today,” he continues, putting the socks down on the table with the discarded wrapping. You feel the urge to look down but your eyes move around instead, looking at each and every one of your teammates.

When you finally turn to Soap, who’s still sitting beside you, his eyes are curious.

“You don’t have a present, Lass?” he asks and it dawns on you only now. You were so caught up in getting them their gifts, you didn’t even think of getting one for yourself.

“I guess my present is… this,” you assure them with a smile, gesturing towards the whole space you sitting in. Price chuckles at your enthusiasm but shakes his head. He knew that would happen. He knows you all too well.

He slowly takes a small box out from behind him on the couch and nudges at your elbow with it. You look surprised when you look back at him.

“There ya go, Kid,” he says with a gentle smile, “picked it out while you were on your own,” he explains with a shrug. Of course he did…

You open the box slowly and discover a small Polaroid camera. The others look curiously at it and back at Price. You can’t keep your eyes off of your gift, memories coming back to you instantly.

“They still make those?!” you ask excitedly, feeling the pang of nostalgia inside your heart. You can’t help smiling goofily, your limbs trembling slightly with the rush of emotions. You stand up and move towards Price. “Thank you so much,” you whisper as you hug him tightly.

“S’ nothing,” he responds, letting you go so you can explore the small object. Gestures come to you naturally, muscle memory kicking in quickly. Load the film - tweak the exposition - activate the flash - press the shutter button. You want to try it so bad.

One idea comes to your mind, then. You look over at everyone from where you’re standing. You would want this moment to last forever, but it won’t. And the closest thing you can’t think of is this.

“I want to take a picture of us,” you say, looking at Ghost. ‘There’s no picture?’ ‘Never…’  “If you’re all okay with it,” you say hesitantly hugging the camera close to you. You can see Ghost’s eyes moving to you. They’re gentle.

“Hell yeah,” Soap says, standing from his spot on the floor.

“I’m in.”

“Sure…”

Gaz and Price talk in turn. Your eyes are still on Ghost. He looks at his teammates fondly and nods.

“Why not?” You feel your heart grow lighter inside your chest and smile excitedly.

You take your seat in the middle of the couch, between Gaz and Price. Soap rapidly moves to the armrest, sitting on it awkwardly and leaning towards Price to make sure he’s in the shot. He pulls the Santa hat down onto his head slightly and smiles.

Price wraps his arm around your ribcage to pull you closer and Gaz motions Ghost closer. Ghost mirrors Soap position, only he doesn’t lean in as much. He tries to look over at the camera lens as you extend your arm as far as you can. You press the small red button. The flash practically blinds you and you can’t help laughing.

The film rolls out of the camera and you take it out, looking at it for a moment and leaving it aside to cure. While it does, you start another animated conversation with the others and you attempt to take more pictures of you and Soap, or Price and Gaz... Soap insists that you take one of him with his gift, you happily oblige. The apartment gets filled with laughter, loud voices and colourful curse words. The first picture you’ve taken still sits on the small table behind you, colours slowly getting brighter.

And when the picture is finally legible on the white film, you will be able to see how Ghost doesn’t in fact look at the lens and instead watches you intently from the corner of his eyes. And you will be able to tell just how gentle his eyes really are when he is looking at you - only you.

Taglist : @stressyanddepressyfoodservice @fatedeniedhope @cabreezer0117 (I probably need to redo that taglist cause I don't think it's up to date, sorry if I missed anyone...)

[stevesbipanic]

@steddiemas Day 11: Charlie Brown's Christmas and Last Christmas by Wham!

Eddie was cozy. He'd created his perfect Christmas Eve Eve Eve Eve Eve environment. A big cup of cocoa including marshmallows of course, his fluffiest blanket, a sweater that wasn't garish or itchy, soft socks to keep his feet warm and his favourite Christmas movie since he was a child, Charlie Brown's Christmas.

The beginning music was just starting to play when he heard it. The earworm that his sweet Stevie had been consumed by. Steve was in the kitchen cooking them dinner like the lovely boyfriend that he is and Eddie would be more appreciative if he wasn't softly singing. At least, if he wasn't singing that damn song again.

"Last Christmas, I gave you my heart, but the very next day, you gave it away," Steve sung quietly.

Eddie tried to tune it out, the song had only been released recently and of course his pop loving, George Micheal fanboy of a boyfriend was obsessed with it. Eddie subtly turned up the volume on the tv, trying to focus on the Peanuts and their plight.

"I remember having a tree that sad as a kid," he thought.

"This year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special."

Eddie reminded himself that he loved his boyfriend, his boyfriend saved his life, his boyfriend was literally making him food and was allowing Eddie to be soft and cozy.

"I wrapped it up and sent it, with a note saying I love you I meant it."

Eddie glanced at their own little tree, his gift for Steve very wonkily wrapped but full of love.

"Focus Eddie, focus on Snoopy," he begged his brain.

"Now I know what a fool I've been but if you kissed me now I know you'd fool me again."

Eddie stood up very quickly setting down his cocoa and matching over to Steve pulling him into a kiss. When he pulled away a slightly shocked Steve was smiling at him.

"I love you Steve but please stop with the Wham!."

"Sorry, Eds, don't worry I know you'd never break my heart."

Eddie gave Steve another kiss for good measure. Thankfully, dinner was ready soon after that and he could enjoy Snoopy and Stevie all cozy on the couch once more.

Ao3

[underthetree845]

I gave you my heart (Last Christmas)

Dazai/gn! Reader (oneshot)

Cws: gn! reader (he calls you "bella," and "my love" gender not explicitly stated), established relationship, cozy evening, christmas traditions, mistletoe, dazai osamu needs a hug

About 1.2k words

Summary: Spending a lovely cozy Christmas Eve with Dazai ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

A/n: Merry Christmas everyone! If you don't celebrate I hope this week treats you kindly and that you can find happiness in the upcoming year <3 And here is @/estrelinha-s requested credit for the dividers. ^^

The soft melody of the radio floated around the room, matching the subtlety of the flurries of snowflakes coming down endlessly out the window. A layer of white peppered the bare branches and cityscape outside, it would be salted away come morning. 

A heavenly aroma filled the quaint apartment as your oven mitt hand slid the fresh batch of treats out of their heated hearth. A brunette head of hair, fluffy from being dried after a shower, watched you from the doorway of your bedroom with a certain look in his eyes that could only be described as enamoration. You turned around in search of a spatula, only to be caged against the oven by a freshly bandaged pair of arms. Your breath stifled for a moment before your lips fell into a smile, admiring the rosiness of the detective’s cheeks and the way his hair curled to frame his face, messily but somehow still utterly perfect. “Hey ‘Samu,” your voice was low and gentle as you reached to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear. The snowy white shirt that hung from his shoulders highlighted his features; he really should consider wearing the color more often. “Bella,” he sighed, delicately resting his chin on the crook of your neck. You hooked your arms around his waist, inhaling the vanilla scent of your shampoo. It smells good on him, you think. A subtle munching sound came from the back of your head, and you turned quickly to find Dazai with a half-eaten cookie in hand. “Osamu!” you gave a playful scoff, “Those are for the agency members, remember? I said you could have the extras after I packaged them all up.” The man only grinned at the cute pout that graced your lips. “Oh, really? Sorry my Love, I must have forgotten,” he stated simply, shamelessly continuing to nibble at the warm treat. He took a half step back and leaned against the countertop. You lowered your eyebrows before coming over and attempting to swipe the cookie out of his hand. Dazai only raised it out of your reach, chuckling lightly at your attempts to pull his arm down. “Osamuuu,” you whined, and he popped what was left of the cookie halfway into his mouth. Dazai gave you a look, and you paused for a moment before feeling heat creep up into your face. Leaning closer, you took the other half of the cookie into your mouth. Goosebumps rose on the back of his neck when he felt your breath on his lips. After finishing the cookie, he chuckled again. “But my Love, now we don’t have any of the cookie left.” A light blush came to dust your cheeks. “It was worth it,” you replied with a shy smile. His heart thumped just a little bit harder. “Still, allow me to make it up to you,” Dazai caught your hand as you tried to turn back to the oven. You tilted your head and he took it as an opportunity to lead you to the living room and turn the radio up. Your hands always felt so delicate and perfect in his, as if he were meant to hold them. He would place kisses on your knuckles and palms for hours if you’d let him. 

♫ Last Christmas, I gave you my heart ♫ 

You raised an eyebrow and Dazai’s smile widened. He led you to the center of the room, taking your hand in his and resting his other on your hip. ♫ But the very next day, you gave it away ♫ 

Your pulse quickened as you slid a hand up to his shoulder, and soon he was taking the lead. ♫ This year, to save me from tears, ♫ 

Never had you imagined one singular person being able to make you so happy. It was in the little things, the lazy morning kisses and remembering each other’s usual coffee orders. Teaching him how to cook and him helping you learn how to pick locks. The arm casually draped over your shoulders out in public, the brief moments of eye contact in the office that never failed to send your heart aflutter. The way his name fell from your lips was like a gift; he uttered yours like a promise.  Dazai didn’t know whether to believe you or not when you told him he was deserving of your affection. He didn’t think he’d ever be sure. The first day you waltzed into his life, he knew there was something special about you. When you first cupped his cheeks and told him how you felt, he knew he was a goner. That night, the first time you ran your hands over his scars and gazed into his eyes with a look he’d never seen before, that was when he knew for sure. The one thing he could say without any doubt was that he would do absolutely anything for you. He had no intention of letting you go anytime soon. 

♫ I’ll give it to someone special. ♫  Dazai’s throat hummed softly along to the music, you felt a certain warmth bubbling from your chest as you twirled within the boughs of evergreen and paper snowflakes that adorned your home. Dazai’s eyes gleamed as he admired the way you were lit up by the lights of the tree. The corners of his eyes crinkled and his lips curved upwards into a smile. It made you feel light, breathless. It was a smile reserved for you and you alone. Dazai stepped one foot behind the other, shifting his hand around your waist familiarly. You slid one foot backwards, just the way he taught you, and fell easily into a dip. 

As he tilted you back, you caught sight of a little green cluster of leaves hanging from the ceiling, red berries scattered within. Mistletoe. You didn't put that there. 

Dazai’s grin widened when your gaze shifted back to lock eyes with him again. You let out a warm sigh, not being able to help the smile that played on your lips. As soon as you allowed yourself to surrender to the moment, he sunk his lips into yours. 

Your fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt to prolong the moment for as long as possible. 

When Dazai pulled you up to stand again and held you close to his chest, when you hooked your arms behind his back to return his embrace, he knew it was hopeless. 

“Y/n…” he started, the emotion in his voice would have been unreadable to anyone else, “you have no idea how much you mean to me.” 

It was easy for you to take note of the way he held you just a little bit tighter. Dazai’s silence begged you for a response, his breathing light. You searched and found the slightest hint of vulnerability in his eyes, your heart doing a backflip knowing that you were the only person he dared to trust with a look so raw. 

“I love you too Osamu,” you gave a small smile in understanding. He again questioned what he ever did to deserve someone like you, someone who spoke to him with such a gentleness embedded in their tone. He allowed himself to drown in it nonetheless. 

That night, you fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. Curled up under the covers, Dazai draped his arms over you protectively. He cradled you like you would evaporate at any moment, as if begging the universe for just a moment longer of the light he’d been granted. Dazai gave you his heart completely, utterly, hopelessly, and he knew he wouldn't ever regret it. Not in a million years. 

A/n: Thank you for reading! I'm actually so happy with how this turned out T-T Sleep well tonight and remember to be kind to yourself!

[certain-blue-eyes]

I'll Be Home For Christmas

Originally written for the Holiday Card Exchange (from one of our Facebook groups), this story is now up for everyone.

Story AND art are both created by myself this time. 🙈

May your holiday season be peaceful, filled with laughter and joy, and may you receive lots of presents. Material or non-material. 😊

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!!! 🎅🏼🎄🎁🎆

[getosugurusbangs]

(reblog for larger sample size!)

[joyful-enchantress]

Evergreen | Loki x Fem!Reader

banner created by the amazing @springdandelixn

A/N: Hello! Enjoy this festive drabble that I wrote for @fictive-sl0th as part of the Secret Santa fic exchange that she so graciously organized. This can be read alone, but could also be considered a companion to I'm Dreaming of a Green Christmas.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.3k (I know, I know... not technically a drabble)

Christmas Eve.

It was a special day for you and Loki -- it was the day he finally asked to court you after more than a year of relentlessly flirting with each other and finding every excuse to be together.

As you reminisced, you absent-mindedly reached your delicate fingers up to toy with the emerald pendant resting against your collarbone; Loki had gifted it to you this very night two years ago, when you both came to your senses and freed the feelings you had been harboring for each other for so long. You couldn't help the smile that graced your lips at the memory. He was your best friend. Your soulmate. Your person.

As always, you and Loki were planning to do your gift exchange for each other tonight, in the privacy of his own quarters. It was one of your favorite traditions you had begun with him, and it gave the two of you time to yourselves, away from the hubbub that inevitably would come tomorrow with Christmas Day in the Avengers Tower.

To celebrate the two years that you and Loki have been officially together, you wanted to do something special. For his gift this year, you had designed and ordered a custom Movado watch for him. The timepiece boasted a two-tone wrist strap of shining silver and yellow gold; the signature 12 o’clock dot and slender hands were cast in yellow gold, and set inside the golden case was the most stunning emerald green dial. On the back of the case you had engraved: The time I spend with you will never be enough. I love you, Loki. It was sleek, elegant, and beautiful — just like him.

The time came for you to head to Loki’s and you could barely contain your excitement; you restlessly bounced and rocked on the balls of your feet as you waited for the elevator to arrive on his floor. The gift box in your hands — blanketed in sleek black wrapping paper and tied off with a glittering emerald green ribbon — complemented your outfit perfectly. A skin-tight black turtleneck was tucked into a tea-length satin skirt of the richest emerald. Your look was completed with sparkling gold heels and, of course, your necklace.

The elevator dinged, signaling your arrival, and you rushed out and nearly skipped the whole way to his door. Before you could even knock, the door swung open, revealing the object of all your love, adoration, and desire.

“Loki…” you breathed. You would never tire of laying eyes on him — each time you did, it felt like the first. His raven curls were neatly slicked back, framing his perfect, angular face. He flashed you a beaming smile and his emerald eyes were alight with excitement and adoration. He was dressed to the nines, in his go-to all-black suit and tie combo, the tie clip you gifted him two years ago displayed proudly against his chest, the single emerald on it glittering when it caught the light. He was beautiful. And he was yours.

"Darling," he returned, "You look absolutely stunning." As he said it, he took your face in his hands and lowered his face to yours, meeting your lips in the most sensual kiss. It was slow and gentle, but there was an urgency to it, as if he might never get to kiss you again. Was he nervous about something?

"Merry Christmas and Happy Anniversary, Lohks. I've been looking forward to seeing you all day."

"As have I, my love. Every moment I'm not with you seems to drag on for eternity," he whispered against your lips. "Happy Anniversary and Merry Christmas, Y/N"

Once you peeled yourselves away from each other and made your way inside his quarters, you placed the gift box under the tree, and you noticed that it was the only one there. That's strange, you briefly thought to yourself for a passing moment, but there were more important matters at hand -- such as the devastatingly good-looking god sitting on the couch waiting for you to join him. You sat down together and enjoyed the hot cocoa he had made, complete with marshmallows and peppermint sticks.

"You're certainly dressed up this year, Loki. I mean, you always look dashingly handsome, of course, but a full suit and tie this year? I'm a lucky lady," you smirked at him.

He chuckled at your remark. God how you loved his laugh. "I wanted to brandish the exquisite gift you bestowed on me two years ago, darling," he explained while gesturing to the tie clip. "And that required wearing a tie. Plus," he continued, looking directly into your eyes, "this is a rather special day, as it marks two years that we've been together romantically. And I couldn't be happier, Y/N."

"Neither could I," you sighed contentedly.

As you sipped your hot cocoa, chatting and sharing the occasional chocolate-laced kiss, Christmas music was softly playing in the background. Everything was perfect in this moment.

"Well, darling, shall we exchange gifts then, before we get too lost in each other to remember or care?" he asked as he brushed his nose against your neck.

"Yes!" you exclaimed as you popped up from the couch and began walking towards the tree to retrieve his gift, blabbering on as you did. "Oh, Loki, I'm so excited for you to open yours, I really hope you like it. I wanted to do something a bit more special this year and --"

You were cut off mid-sentence and your jaw went slack at the sight before you as you turned around, Loki's watch box clasped tightly in your hand. Your best friend and lover was down on one knee, holding in his hands a small box that contained the most beautiful diamond ring you had ever seen. The ring had a twisted band of both platinum and yellow gold. The platinum parts of the twist were encrusted with emeralds, and led directly to the center stone -- a sparkling princess cut diamond -- where they formed a loose halo.

You gasped, speechless, as you approached him.

"Y/N, darling, I love you with everything that I am, and I toiled for weeks, endeavoring to come up with the perfect way to propose to you. Since you are deserving of all the Nine Realms, I wanted to make sure my proposal was lavish enough to reflect that. But then, I realized, there is nothing flashy or performative about our love. Our love is real, it is steadfast, and it is something that comes along once in a generation. It is timeless and beautiful to behold, without even trying. So here I am, in the one place we spend the most time together -- the place where we have shared the most treasured memories and sweet nothings -- asking you to spend the rest of your life with me. Y/N, will you do me the undeniable honor of becoming my wife?"

Tears of joy sprang from your eyes as you listened to him. You couldn't believe it. This was really happening.

"Of course I will," you managed to speak, "Yes, Loki, I'll marry you!"

At your words, he rose from his feet and placed the gorgeous ring on your left ring finger. Looking at him, you would have thought he had just conquered all Nine Realms, with the way his chest swelled with pride and his eyes swam with unshed tears of awe and adoration -- for you.

He wrapped you in a warm embrace and kissed you with more fire and passion than ever before, his soft lips moving against yours in a dance of celebratory ownership. Gone was the urgency from earlier; he was able to take his time now, knowing that you agreed to remain his for all your days.

You would happily don his colors forever. Ever his. Evergreen.

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

A/N: Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! The 3-word prompt I was given to write towards was "Christmas Eve proposal" Many thanks to @fictive-sl0th for the prompt, for organizing this Secret Santa event, and for allowing me to participate, even though I was a late submission. You are a gem.

If you would like to see pictures of the watch and the ring from this fic, I have included them below.

[wangxianficrecs]

Christmas Eve at Number 16 by liulans

Christmas Eve at Number 16

by liulans (@liulans)

T, 9k, Wangxian

Summary: Lan Wangji considers that for a moment, squaring Wei Wuxian up. And then he says, “You are asking– if I would like to spend Christmas with you?” “It doesn't have to be, like, Christmassy,” he reminds him. “We can just hang out. Maybe you can come over tomorrow evening, and I'll have you back in your apartment before midnight. And then on Christmas day, I'll bring you an apple for luck, and that can be that.” “Okay.” Lan Wangji says, after a moment of brow-furrowing contemplation. “...Okay?” “I will see you tomorrow. I will– spend Christmas with you.” --- [Prompt: Character A can’t travel to see their family on Christmas, so they invite their grumpy loner neighbour Character B.] Kay's comments: A very soft and sweet story where Wei Wuxian can't visit his family for Christmas, because they are snowed in, so he instead asks his neighbor (and crush) Lan Wangji to spend Christmas with him. They are just so incredibly sweet with each other in this story and what's Christmas without some mutual pining? Excerpt: “So you just, what, you worked through it?” He asks, as softly as he can. He definitely shouldn't pry, but Lan Wangji is letting him in. He's letting him close in ways only Wei Wuxian has opened up between them before. “You didn't take a lot of convincing. When I asked you to be here.” If he had tried to refute it, it would have been a lousy fight. There's something there, something quiet and unspoken; Wei Wuxian thinks, quite ardently, that he'd like to meet this shufu of Lan Wangji's, give him a piece of his mind. “Uncle meant well,” Lan Wangji explains, as if reading his mind. “He raised us as we were raised. There was never much room for such holidays. But you said you wanted to spend it with someone you cared about.” “Ahh, you know I didn't mean it to guilt trip you, right?—” He nods once. “I felt that it would be—mutually beneficial. To keep you company, so that you wouldn't feel like missing out. To spend the day in company I can tolerate.” That draws a laugh out of Wei Wuxian. It bubbles out of him, from the depths of his chest; it has him swaying into Lan Wangji's side with the force of it. “Tolerate? How romantic of you, Lan Zhan. So what's next on your list now, hm? How else can my tolerable company make your day special?”

pov wei wuxian, modern setting, modern no powers, christmas, holidays, christmas fluff, christmas decorations, getting together, mistletoe, first kiss, neigbors, friends to lovers, love confessions, mutual pining

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[mudhamster]

CHWHWN: 24. December " TRUST? "

"Wh-what's that?" Izuku had stayed in the background all day, perfectly content to exist on the sidelines in the warmth and buzz of the Bakugou family. Now, however, Katsuki had found him in the kitchen and a matchbox was held out to him. "I knew something was wrong with you since that damn day," Katsuki replied cryptically and let the box fall into his hands. It wasn't wrapped or decorated, so Izuku opened it curiously and discovered the note with The Hug glued inside. He remembered the day and asked quietly, "Because I didn't answer you?" "Yup." "Sorry," he said, still looking at the written word in his hand, "It was the day I told Mom that we were all going to celebrate together while Shouto and Ochako had just left. It was a bit much." He heard a snort in front of him, "You lied to your mother." "She would NEVER have left me behind otherwise." Arms crossed in front of his chest, Katsuki slumped against the fridge and tilted his head, "America, huh?" he asked, "And you let that pass you by?" "I guess so," Izuku sighed, expecting to feel regret and leaned against the counter right next to the fridge. But the feeling didn't come. Instead, he took a deep breath, the smell of Kacchan's home and spiced tea heavy in his throat, and a small smile spread across his face.

He felt more at home here than at any Christmas before. Being part of a wild household that couldn't exist in the same room for more than an hour was so much more enjoyable than doing the same thing every year. He was … happy here. They were standing next to each other by now, and he was able to continue speaking softly, eyes on their feet, both in socks and slippers, "I didn't think. Mom always gave everything to me… and when I moved into the dorm, she was so lonely. And then her new partner came. She had been alone for months before that, so I thought I could do it too. For her." And for Kacchan. Because he couldn't have fulfilled the 24 from another continent, even if he wanted to. But in the end, he was the one who benefited the most from the whole situation. Katsuki raised his eyebrows with a nod and then clicked his tongue. "That all sounds great, Deku. But I'm tired of waiting." "What?" When a hand suddenly made an effort to reach for the matchbox, the penny finally dropped for Izuku and he whirled around: "Oh - wait!" And then he wrapped his arms around Kacchan's middle, buried his nose deep in Kacchan's dark green Christmas sweater and pawned his heart to the devil so he wouldn't cry like a baby for ONCE and ruin the expensive sweater under his cheek. "But you still can't open the 24," he murmured against the warm fabric, sighing as he rubbed his cheek against Kacchan's shoulder, feeling all the tension in his body suddenly dissipate. This was his safe place, arms around him in a gentle embrace that would otherwise melt stone, a beating heart against his face. The place he had always wanted to conquer, even though he had never been there before. "I know." Kacchan's voice was close and low, right next to his ear, and he realized that they were still in the embrace. Izuku tightened his grip as much as he could and then put the cards on the table. "There are two open notes. And I know which ones, so if…" "Give me until New Year's Eve."

His heart did a tiny somersault. Theoretically, Kacchan had just had the chance to end everything platonically. But here they were. For almost a minute, they held each other tightly, as if Izuku wasn't the only one who longed for this kind of touch and Katsuki had just asked for more time. "Huh. Sure. I mean, I guess there will be an opportunity until then, right?" Because that was the rule, no matter how long he asked for time. He wouldn't be allowed to open the last note until all the others had been fulfilled. "Yeah. Maybe." Katsuki lowered his arms and took half a step back. The light from the kitchen shone on his cheeks and between the blond strands of hair, Izuku discovered red ears. But before Izuku could write a mental love letter about the reflections in the red of his eyes, Kacchan pulled the very last sealed note out of his pants pocket (did he always carry them all with him!?) and slipped it into the small, gift-shaped pocket on Izuku's Christmas sweater. "Take care of it until I can open it, okay?" Izuku put his hand over the small pocket. "If it's not opened by midnight on New Year's Eve, it will be destroyed." "'Kay. Now give me my present." "You what?" said Izuku astonished, "I - I don't have a - " "I thought so," Katsuki snorted, "I had saved the damn Joker for that." "You saved it on purpose? Do you have a plan for all those notes?" "Of course?" "I thought you - you said you didn't need them - Kacchan. The first note, - that was -" "December 11th, yes."

Izuku looked at him in astonishment as he went on after a shrug, "Admittedly, I wasn't really sure about it all back then, but as time went on… I thought that if you started something like this, I could take it further." "Until New Year's Eve." "Exactly." "With a plan." Katsuki nodded and Izuku had never felt a stronger need to kiss him than at that moment. So close, so familiar, within reach. Kacchan's eyes watched him, intense and attentive, and something in Izuku gave way. An unexpected gentle understanding poured into his mind like warm honey, coating all the places where worry had gnawed or fear had taken root. Katsuki played along. It was Christmas, they were together, and Kacchan had demanded the hug. He'd had a plan since December eleventh. Everything inside him squeezed as he wondered about the goal of the plan, as he looked up at Kacchan's waiting face, not a hand's breadth away. Izuku allowed himself the wondrous thought that they both wanted this, that there was nothing to worry about. That this was really happening. Izuku wanted Kacchan. And Katsuki wanted Deku. The thought was enough to make him stand on his toes and brush his mouth over a heated cheekbone. He felt Kacchan's whole body shudder, paused in his position until he could take a deep breath and then stepped back. "Merry Christmas, Kacchan."

[yooils]

CHRISTMAS EVE . nagi seishiro x gn! reader / fluff / established relationship (domestic nagi agenda mm)

☆彡– it’s cute how seishiro tries to escape your silent wrath by using affection to his advantage.

despite his unparalleled talent for football and many other things, NAGI SEISHIRO is absolutely dreadful at baking.

(– and cooking, at that. you've seen him blow up the microwave one too many times and burn things that weren't even combustible in the first place.)

"you're not self-destructing right before christmas, are you?"

nagi flinches, half-heartedly attempting to shuffle in front of the disheveled kitchen counter, stained and stripped from its original glory. you can spot the messily cut-out dough on the baking tray somewhat resembling a christmas decoration, stuck to a ginger-bread man with a limb missing and abnormal proportions.

"mm... i practiced on cooking mama, but it was more of a pain than i thought it would be."

his gaze bestows nothing but melted pools of ashen roses upon you, no longer under the unintentional guise of indifference and biting coolness. there's flour on his (your) undersized apron, and his sweats are crumpled with how many times he's wiped his smudged hands with them.

in spite of that, you take his hands in yours and guide his fingers around the whisker, murmuring out precise instructions to him because you know how massively prone your seishiro is to kitchen disasters.

(nagi can't control the sudden race of his heart. he can hear it thumping against his ribcage, akin to the feeling he experiences when football starts becoming like breathing to him in an exciting match. he thinks that he probably can't live without you either, physically and emotionally.)

your amused grin reveals that you've caught on to his devastating train of thoughts. "what're you thinking about, loverboy? your ears are all red."

he melts into you at the mention of that nickname, sighing with drowsy exasperation.

seishiro’s face is warm against the crook of your neck, his weight rested onto your body comfortably– with the bowl of dough laid out forgotten on the table.

that is, until nagi reaches for your hand amid his languorous state and accidentally knocks it over.

flour tumbles out as a dust cloud. the dough is nothing short of parched, with neither an even distribution of ingredients nor proper hydration. it looks as desolate as the ginger-bread man, immensely malnourished despite nagi's genuine (read: half-hearted) methods to make it look edible.

you don't bother turning your head around to look at the culprit of the catastrophe, knowing he probably had been startled by the loud clang of metal against marble rather than the sorry state of the dough.

"seishiro."

nagi shivers at the sound of his full given name, rubbing his flushed nose with an arm as the other instinctively wraps around your waist. you finally meet his doe-like eyes as he attempts to sway you with his warm embrace and lull you away from the horrors that reality (nagi seishiro) had brought upon the kitchen.

it’s cute, really, how seishiro tries to escape your silent wrath by using affection to his advantage.

(because it usually works in his favour. he knows better than anyone that your icy resentment is nothing short of deadly, especially when you decide to act on your threats.)

“you forgot to add the eggs, didn’t you?”

–and he knows that he’s in big trouble.

12.25.22

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

Gift of Love

Christmas Eve, sneak attacks, a mild prank war and a gift filled with so much love that Harry knows it's the best Christmas he'll ever have.

Ao3

gift for the talented @littlewinnow for their adorable art! And also gifted to the ever delightful @l0vegl0wsinthedark ask found here

[roamingtigress]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hosea Matthews/Dutch van der Linde Characters: Hosea Matthews, Dutch van der Linde Additional Tags: Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Christmas Eve, Christmas, Hosea Matthews Lives, BAMF Hosea Matthews, Sub Dutch van der Linde, Dom Hosea Matthews, Top Hosea Matthews, Bottom Dutch van der Linde, Aftercare, vandermatthews, Video Game: Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018), Winter, Old Married Couple, Growing Old Together, Old man yaoi Summary:

It's the 24th of December. The fireplace was crackling, gifts were wrapped underneath the tree, cider was sipped by the fire, and one thing lead to another with Hosea and Dutch. However, after a rather rough moment of intimacy, they snuggle up for some fluffy times to recuperate from their holiday sexy times.

[cambria-writes]

happy holidays! this is arguably a little late but i’ve had a rough go of it these past few days so i only just finished this tonight lol. Ii insist that i’m not late because we’re still in 2022 and the new year hasn’t hit yet!

anyways this is just a relatively short fluffy feel-good thing because i wanted to feel warm and fuzzy. so it’s absolutely self-indulgent.

word count: 3,229 warnings: swearing, it’s christmas eve and that’s important so that should probably be a warning, no y/n, no mention of gender but ravenloft reader is AFAB, minor ravenloft spoilers if you squint

for reference, this scene (with a bonus crown) is what the reader would’ve drawn.

and for the record, since it was mentioned on ao3, i'm very well aware it shouldn't have been a perception check! ravenloft!reader was never written with the intention of making them a tabletop rpg wiz, they just know enough to get by and follow along if they're sitting in on a game.

𝕽𝖔𝖑𝖑 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝕻𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖊𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

When the phone rang, you didn’t even greet the speaker. You immediately answered with ‘what do you want you fucking menace’ because there’s really only one person who’d call you near midnight like a heathen. 

“What’s your favourite colour?”

You snort and wedge the phone between your chin and shoulder and sit back down at your dining table to keep sketching. 

“Dunno. Like, all of them?”

“Dude that’s the epitome of unhelpful,” Eddie deadpans, and you can’t help but laugh. 

“Right, well like, is there any context to this? Cause you should know I don’t have a favourite colour,” you reply, frowning and erasing a small portion before swiping the eraser shredding away. 

“Come on,” Eddie whines, and you can practically see him throwing his head back in annoyance. “Not even one? Like, something that just always makes you happy when you see it?”

You hum for a second and put your pencil down. “I guess maybe black? I—“

“Nah, nuh uh. Boring as hell.”

“Rude, what—“

“Black’s not even a colour, that’s what you constantly say!”

You scoff and pick your pencil back up, switching the phone to the other shoulder. 

“Did you seriously just call me in the middle of the night to bitch at me for not having a preferred perceptible wavelength of light?”

There’s an unusually long silence on the other end of the line. You frown again and pull the handset away and follow the coiled line. Confused but satisfied that it hadn’t somehow gotten unplugged from the cradle on the wall, you wedge it back where it was. 

“Ed? You good?”

“Yeah, no. Yeah, sorry, just thinking.”

“Jesus, don’t burn yourself out there bud.”

“Oh fuck off.”

The rest of the phone call is relatively short, and colours aren’t mentioned again by the time you hang up. You don’t go to bed until nearly two in the morning, and by then you’re content with having gotten down the main lines of your portrait. 

The snowstorm that rolled in on the 23rd was entirely unexpected but wholly welcomed. You were scheduled to work on the 24th, but with the state of the roads and the fact that nearly half of Hawkins was running off of generators, you were graciously allowed to stay home until the new year. And given that this is your first Christmas in your new home, you were more than happy to hunker down and, ha, weather it out. 

You’d had plans, sure; Harrington had already made sure everyone knew to show up at his place on the 24th, your parents had been expecting you on Christmas morning and the rest of the day would have been spent going around to see extended family. And though the thought of not being able to fulfill your annual Christmas traditions did dampen your mood, just thinking about the astronomical amount of energy you’d save made it a bit more palatable. 

If the same thing were to happen next year, though, you might cry. 

You’d already called Steve to let him know you were staying home. Pleasantly surprised, he’d admitted he’d had a whole speech prepared about how he’s have The Swarm tear you a new one if you even dared thinking about touching your car keys. (Which would have been an effective threat, honestly. You really had no interest in giving Dustin a reason to get uppity at you, and you definitely didn’t want to have to deal with Max’s ire. Girl held grudges like you did trauma.)

Your parents were only slightly less understanding, with your mother trying to insist that your father could come pick you up. A little resistance put that all to rest, though, and with a promise to call on Christmas morning, that was dealt with as well. 

You’d just settled down on your couch, swaddled in the fluffy blanket you’d gotten from Eddie the year before, mug of hot chocolate held in both hands for warmth, when the doorbell rang. Confused, you look at the time—just after dinner on Christmas Eve—and sigh before heaving yourself off the couch to buzzer by the door. You hesitate for a second before pressing the button to let the mysterious visitor in. You’re already on your way back to your couch, having assumed it was just a neighbour who’d locked themselves out again, when you hear heavy footsteps outside your door. 

You quietly walk back up and carefully lean forward to look through the peephole. 

“What the…” you mutter, leaning back, nearly jumping out of your skin when the knocking finally comes. You quickly unlatch the chain and unlock the deadbolt before pulling the door open. “Ed, what the fuck—“

“Merry Christmas,” Eddie blurts out, thrusting a box out at you, though it really sounded more like ‘murr cr’sms’. 

“Merry Christmas to you too but Jesus come inside!” You pull Eddie through the door by his arm, quickly shutting the door behind you and getting started patting the snow off of him. “The hell did you do, walk here? You look like a damn yeti!”

“Y-yeah I kind-kind of d-did.”

You pause in your patting before grabbing Eddie’s arm again and turning him around to face you. You ‘reabout to ask if he was serious, but a quick glance at his face—reddened cheeks and nose, frosted lashes, dry lips—tells you he has, in fact, told you the truth. 

“Fuck me, okay,” you whisper, before shaking your head and getting a move on. “Stay there and take your boots and coat off and then get your ass on that couch, I’m making you coffee.”

You don’t hear any complaints. And though normally you would’ve been glad for the silence, even perhaps proud to have shut him up, Eddie’s silence is, once again, unsettling. And this time you’re pretty sure it’s not because he’s thinking, and most likely because he’s borderline hypothermic.

You try to be quick; you grab that one pair of sweatpants Eddie leant you when you got splashed by a car outside of the arcade. That one metallica shirt you borrowed one time when one Friday movie night turned into an impromptu sleepover. You make your way back to the living room, where thankfully Eddie’s listened to you, and has made himself at home swaddled in the blanket you’d left on the couch. You throw a quick glance to the front door, where his jacket and boots are slowly leaving a growing puddle of snow water.

You definitely need to get a welcome mat or something if this is going to keep happening. 

Your first instinct is to chuck the clothes at Eddie’s head. What you would usually do. But it’s Christmas eve, there’s a god damn storm outside and this maniac walked to your place. For some reason. You feel like you owe him to be nicer than you usually would be. Call it the ghost of Christmas conscience. 

“Here,” you say quietly, holding out the sloppily folded shirt and sweats. “You can change in here. I’ll be in the kitchen.” 

Eddie mutters a very stuttery thanks and takes the clothes from you. You pause for a second to see what’s on the TV—seems like A Christmas Story is about halfway through—before hastily turning away when you see Ed starting to lift his shirt over his head.

Coffee, right. You said you’d make coffee.

You’re being so normal about this, it’s absolutely fine. You’re totally fine. 

By the time you return to the couch in the living room, Eddie’s clothes are exceptionally neatly folded on your coffee table and he’s even more huddled up in your blanket than he had been before. You place his mug of coffee in his waiting hands and have to bite back shocked laughter when, even outstretched, underneath the blanket, he looks like a frozen T-rex.

“Alright,” you huff out when you finally take your seat on the other end of the couch. “You wanna tell me what’s in that box that was so important that you felt you had to walk here in a storm?”

Eddie sputters in his coffee a bit. When he brings the mug back down, he does look a little sheepish.

“Yeah, y’know it sounds pretty stupid when you say it like that.”

You nod and take a sip of your own coffee. “M’hm. That’s cause risking hypothermia to deliver a gift that very well could’ve waited until the storm passed is pretty stupid. No offense.”

Despite your disclaimer and your attempt to sound light about it, Eddie lapses into silence, again. 

“Okay, you keep going quiet, is there something—“

“I didn’t want you to be alone.”

You stop yourself, mouth agape. You bring your coffee mug back up to your lips to try and shake off the surprise.

“I—okay. What, uh, what about Wayne?”

Eddie gestures vaguely under the blanket, and you assume he’s waving the issue of. “He’s with the Hendersons.”

“Oh. That’s…”

“Dustin asked me to go. I said no.”

You frown. “In favour of walking though the snow to get to me?”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie starts, but he doesn’t continue until he takes another long sip from the coffee mug. “Walking wasn’t the plan. Van broke down halfway here.”

“Oh thank god,” you sigh, leaning back into the arm of the couch and pulling your legs up and under you. “I literally thought you walked from your place!” 

“God, never,” Eddie laughs, pulling his own feet up on the couch to sit cross-legged. “But I was halfway here and there’s no power at the trailer, so.”

You hum and nod, but otherwise keep your silence. And you both stay like that for a few minutes. And while you’re taking the time to try and bring your BPM down to something a nurse might not scream about, Eddie seems to be appreciating the warmth that you’ve thrown at him.

“So,” you say after a while, clearing your throat and putting your mostly empty mug on the coffee table. “What’s in the box?” 

Eddie grins and puts his own mug down. The blanket falls away from his shoulders when he reaches toward to grab said box, and he turns it around in his hands before passing it over to you.

“Wait,” you rush to say, just as he opens his mouth. “Shit, wait, I have,” you trail off, and nearly jump over the back of the couch to run to your room. You quickly snatch the gift bag you’d left on your dresser and run back to the living room, nearly tripping over your own feet. You throw yourself back down onto the couch and shove the bag towards Eddie.

“What—“

“Gift for a gift,” you explain shortly, a little out of breath.

Eddie laughs lightly but takes the gift bag from you, and you eagerly snatch the box from his hands. You’re about to start tearing into the tacky Santa-print wrapping paper, but glance up to make sure it’s okay. Eddie chuckles and nods and motions for you to go ahead. 

You make quick work of the paper and nearly tear the top off the box before turning it over in your hand and letting its content drop into your palm.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, turning over the giant cut glass piece in your hand. You hold it up to the do lamplight, and it looks like it’s shimmering from the inside. Every which way you turn it, it’s like each facet is a different colour that reveals itself to you with each new angle. 

You don’t miss the fact that there are nineteen carefully carved and painted numbers on each face, and the last one has a little flame where the 20 normally would have been. 

You look up to thank Eddie, throat a little tight, but you nearly choke on your own tongue when you see his expression. 

He’s holding your gifted frame in his hands like it might break if he holds it too tightly. You can’t really understand the expression on his face, and the more time he spends staring unblinkingly at it, the more unsure you feel. 

“I, uh, is it… do you not like it?” 

Eddie slowly shakes his head before lifting his eyes up to you. He tries to start a few different sentences before clearing his throat. 

“Is this—this is really what you see?”

You let your hands fall into your lap and nervously turn the massive D20 around in them and nod. 

“Yeah, I mean. The crown might be a bit much,” you chuckle lightly, looking up and away towards the TV. “But yeah. You look really, uh. You look happy, when you’re DMing for the kids. Really cool. Thought you should be able to, I dunno. See it for yourself.”

When you do muster the courage to turn to look back to Eddie, he still has that absolutely confusing look on your face. You lift the heavy dice in one hand and wave it around a bit. 

“This is why you asked for my favourite colour, huh?” 

Eddie blinks a bit owlishly at first, but laughs and shakes his head. Slowly, carefully, he puts your gifted portrait on top of his folded clothes. Leans forward to pluck the dice from your hand and gently put it down on the coffee table next to your mug. 

“Ed, what’s wr—“

You inhale the rest of your question when Eddie reaches out a hand to grab and pull at one of your ankles. You screw your eyes shut when your head meets the couch cushion below your with a soft ‘thump’. And when you open your eyes, Eddie’s hovering over you, hands braced on the couch arm just above your head. You swallow thickly and promptly forget to breathe for a second. 

The end credit music for A Christmas Story feels like it’s playing from miles away.

“You good?” Eddie asks, quietly, and all you can do is nod. “You sure?”

“Yeah, uh huh. Fine,” you whisper, holding your hands close to your chest. Close your eyes when he leans in to rest his forehead against yours. “Why did you really come over?” You whisper, hesitantly uncurling a hand to place it on his chest.

“Missed you.”

“You see me almost every day.”

“Worried about you.”

You snort and lightly slap at his chest. “Bullshit. I own more knives than you do guitar picks.” 

Eddie exhales sharply before pulling back a bit. When you open your eyes, you almost want to hide from the tenderness you see in his. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you whisper, turning your head to the side to watch the TV turns from black to blue, now that the tape’s over. 

“Like what?” Eddie asks, and you can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice when he nuzzles at your neck. 

You grunt. “Like, I don’t know. Like you—like…”

“Like you’re the only person I’d drive and walk through a snow storm to see?” 

You hum but keep your head resolutely turned away. Shiver when you can feel his lips ghosting against your cheek. 

“Like you’re in love with me,” you mutter quietly, screwing your eyes shut. 

Eddie slowly peels a hand away from the arm of the couch to turn your head to look at him. You still avert your eyes. He brushes the hair away from your face instead.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” he says, almost whines, tilting his head to try to catch your eyes. “You’re smarter than me, you’re not that dumb.”

You huff and cross your arms and finally look up at Eddie. There was some kind of combative quip on the tip of your tongue but it dies there as soon as the look on his face properly registers. 

“You’re not fucking around,” you say frowning. 

“I’m not fucking around.” Eddie sighs and moves up to kneel on the couch, both knees boxing in your legs. You move up on your elbows and scoot up a bit to lean your back against the arm of the couch. 

“Since when do you—“ 

“Dude, you literally saved me from a swarm of hell bats, somehow managed to team up with a super powered teenage girl to save the world, still don’t think I’m an absolute coward and show up at my doorstep if I call you when I can’t sleep,” Eddie lists off, starting to wave down at your a bit frantically. “And you actually listen to my shitty garage band music!”

“It’s not shitty!” 

“You’re proving my damn point, woman!” Ed shouts, swatting your hand away when you go to slap his chest again. “Merry fucking Christmas, I’m in love with you!” 

You let yourself slide back down to lie on the couch and laugh when you throw an arm over your face. 

“The fuck, this isn’t funny!” Eddie whines, trying to slap your arms away from your face. “This is serious!”

You choke your laughter down enough to say, “Roll for perception.” 

“Excuse me?” Eddie squawks, indignantly, pausing his assault on your arms. You lower them just enough to be able to peek at him. 

“You heard me, roll for perception.”

Eddie scoffs but turns to grab the massive dichroic dice from the table and gently rolls it along your carpeted floor. 

“Huh. 18. Do I get to add my wisdom modifier to that?” 

Though you bring your arms down from your face, you still cover it with your hands.

“You’re the only name and phone number I keep in my address book,” you start quietly, biting down on your lips before continuing. “That portrait of you isn’t the first one I’ve ever bothered trying to do. The photo of us Max took in the hospital is the only one I have framed. I hate cashews.”

“But you keep a tin of cashews in the cupboard on top of the f… fridge…” 

You nod and part your fingers to catch a glimpse of Eddie. He sighs before shouting and shaking his head. 

“Ed, what the—“

“Why are we so stupid complicated!” He shouts again, but it peters out into laughter. “Jesus, why can’t we just say shit like normal people?” 

“We hate normal people,” you deadpan, slowly letting your hands slide down your face. “So, uh,” you start, curling your fingers under your chin. “Merry, uh, Merry fucking Christmas, I lo—I love you too?”

Eddie closes his eyes and tilts his head back to sigh like you’ve just given him a glass of water after spending weeks in the desert.

You move to half sit up on your elbows again. 

“Hey, you—“

“Does this mean I can kiss you now and you’re not going to think I’m just doing it because it’s the holidays and there was mistletoe over your door?”

You blink for a second and pull yourself up on the arm of the couch and twist around to look at your door. Huh. Sure as shit, there it is.

“Oh. Mrs H must’ve put that up when she came over,” you say nervously, but when you turn around you’re shocked, both because of the still-freezing hand that comes up to your jaw and the lips that are pressed almost chastely against yours. 

“God bless Mrs H,” Eddie whispers, and your laughter is a quick huff before you loop your arms around his neck to pull him down against you for another kiss.

[softestqueeen]

✧*̥˚ specials masterlist *̥˚✧

this is my masterlist for all the specials i've written so far! they are not sorted by fandom or ship, but by occasion! most of them have something to do with specific holidays but soon there'll also be my 100 followers special! if you have any requests/ideas for that, don't be shy to reach out!

my regular masterlist!

✧*̥˚ key *̥˚✧

❤️‍🔥 smut 🌸fluff ⛓️ hurt/comfort 🖤 dark

✧*̥˚ Christmas*̥˚✧

under the mistletoe ❤️‍🔥

bruce banner x afab!reader After a kiss under the mistletoe, you can’t deny the tension between you and your infamous crush Bruce Banner.

home for christmas 🌸

Tom Hiddleston x reader You had resigned yourself to spending this christmas alone, when a sudden visitor surprises you…

✧*̥˚ New Years Eve*̥˚✧

a kiss at midnight ❤️‍🔥⛓️

miguel o’hara x reader You and your boyfriend Miguel O’Hara had a fight about his working hours and how you felt he didn’t put enough effort into your relationship. You haven’t talked to him in days and were growing more frustrated by the minute. But when the annual New Years Party of the tower is coming up, you see the perfect opportunity to make him jealous.

✧*̥˚ Valentines Day *̥˚✧

happy valentines day, darling! ❤️‍🔥🌸

sub!steve rogers x femdom!reader When your boyfriend Steve Rogers returns from a month long mission on valentines day, you decide to treat him.

✧*̥˚ Follower Specials *̥˚✧

100 follower special coming soon! requests for this special: open!

don't be shy to reach out if you want to be added to my taglist!