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niallerspayno · 1 month ago

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How they react to getting caught under the mistletoe with you

Masterlist

A little drabble about how each of the boys would react to being caught under the mistletoe with you🎄

…

Niall

You’re laughing with the group, enjoying the cozy holiday atmosphere, when Niall’s gaze flicks up to the mistletoe hanging just above you. His eyes widen slightly, and he glances down at the ground, as if debating whether he should say something. But the teasing whispers of the others quickly bring his attention back to you.

The room falls into a quiet anticipation as Niall steps closer, his usual easy smile a little more nervous now. He clears his throat, his face turning a shade redder than usual. “Uh… I think we’re supposed to…” He trails off, his voice a little uncertain, but there’s a warmth in his eyes that betrays his shyness.

You can’t help but smile at how awkwardly adorable he looks. “Yeah, I guess we are,” you reply, your voice soft and teasing as you look up at the mistletoe, then back at him.

Niall chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “Well, I’m not sure what I’m doing, but… guess we’ll find out.” He reaches for your hand, his fingers brushing yours with that familiar warmth that always makes you feel at ease. He leans in, his breath mixing with yours, and for a moment, everything else seems to fade away.

His lips brush against yours, tentative at first, like he’s testing the waters. The kiss is soft, slow, the kind of first kiss that feels like it’s been waiting to happen for a long time. Niall’s hand finds the side of your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek as he deepens the kiss just slightly, a little more confident now.

You can feel the tenderness in his touch, the quiet reassurance that this moment, this kiss, means more than just a tradition—it’s the beginning of something real, something special.

When he finally pulls away, both of you are breathless, a soft smile curling on Niall’s lips. He looks at you, his eyes shining with something unreadable but full of warmth. “Wow,” he says softly, his voice almost in awe. “I didn’t expect that to feel like… that.”

You laugh quietly, your heart racing in the best way. “Yeah, me neither.”

Niall chuckles, a little embarrassed but still glowing. “Merry Christmas, love,” he says, his hand still gently holding yours. And even though the teasing from the others begins, you’re both lost in the soft afterglow of that first kiss, your hearts in sync.

Liam

Liam notices the mistletoe hanging above you both almost immediately. He pauses mid-conversation, his gaze flicking to the leafy sprig before his eyes shift back to you. There’s a quiet moment, and you catch the brief hesitation in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything right away, just stands still for a second, as if considering the situation carefully.

The others begin to notice the shift, teasing whispers filling the air. But Liam stays calm, his expression thoughtful. He steps closer, his movements deliberate, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. There’s a quiet intensity in his eyes, and when he speaks, his voice is low and soft, almost as if he’s just sharing a secret with you. “Looks like we’re under the mistletoe,” he says, his tone both playful and sincere.

You nod, your heart beating a little faster, and before you can even respond, Liam’s hand gently reaches out to touch the side of your arm, his touch warm and comforting. “I’ve… been waiting for this,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

His words catch you off guard, but before you can process them fully, Liam leans in. His lips brush yours with careful, deliberate tenderness. It’s the kind of kiss that feels so familiar, like it’s been building for far longer than just this moment. His hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you just a little closer, the kiss deepening with a quiet intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.

Liam’s kiss isn’t rushed or uncertain—there’s a surety to it, like he’s been waiting for the right moment to finally close the gap between you. His lips move gently against yours, a mix of sweetness and something more powerful that sends a flutter through your chest. When he pulls back just a fraction, his forehead rests gently against yours, both of you breathless but content.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion, as if the kiss had meant something more than just a holiday tradition. He keeps his eyes closed for a moment, his hand still resting on your neck, as if grounding himself in the moment.

When you open your eyes, you find him looking at you with a mix of admiration and something deeper, something unspoken but clear. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he admits, his voice soft but sincere.

You smile, feeling the warmth of his words settling in your chest. “Me too.”

The others tease you both, but Liam simply holds your gaze, a small, content smile tugging at the corners of his lips. For once, it doesn’t matter what anyone else is saying. In this moment, you’re both just there, lost in each other’s presence.

Zayn

Zayn’s eyes flicker upward when he spots the mistletoe hanging above the two of you. For a split second, there’s a flicker of hesitation in his gaze—his usual calm, collected demeanor momentarily faltering. He seems to gather himself before offering a small, knowing smirk, the kind of expression that could melt anyone’s heart.

“Well, this is unexpected,” he says, his voice smooth and low, with that signature coolness you’ve come to admire. He steps toward you slowly, his movements deliberate, and for a moment, the teasing of the others fades into the background. It’s just the two of you now, and Zayn’s intensity is palpable.

You feel the air between you shift as Zayn leans in slightly, his face close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath. He’s not rushing this—he takes his time, studying you with that steady, almost magnetic gaze. His hand finds the small of your back, his fingers grazing your skin through the fabric of your sweater, sending a shiver up your spine.

There’s a quiet tension in the air, the kind that makes your heart race. “I didn’t think I’d be here, doing this tonight,” Zayn admits, his voice hushed but earnest. “But I guess I’m not complaining.”

Before you can respond, he’s gently cupping your face with his free hand, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. You can feel your breath catch in your throat, and when his lips finally meet yours, it’s not rushed or tentative. It’s deep, slow, and filled with something undeniable, as though he’s been wanting this for longer than either of you realized.

Zayn’s kiss is intense, almost magnetic, and it pulls you into him like gravity. His other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you a little closer, and there’s an urgency in the way his lips move against yours, as if he’s been holding back a tidal wave of emotions that finally crash over both of you in this kiss.

It’s not playful like Louis, or tender like Liam—it’s raw, passionate, and completely consuming, leaving you breathless when he finally pulls away, his forehead resting against yours. You both stand there for a moment, eyes closed, sharing the quiet aftershock of the kiss.

“Merry Christmas,” Zayn murmurs, his voice rough and low, his thumb brushing against your lips as though savoring the taste of the moment. He doesn’t say anything more, but the quiet smile that tugs at his lips says everything—there’s a depth to his gaze now, something soft but filled with a quiet intensity that lingers even as the others tease in the background.

When he looks at you again, his gaze is softer, almost playful. “Guess I’ll be counting down the days until the next time,” he adds, with a small, knowing smirk.

Louis

Louis notices the mistletoe before anyone else does, and the second he spots it, he flashes a mischievous grin in your direction. His eyes twinkle with a playful energy, and you can already tell he’s up to something.

“Well, well, well…” Louis says with a dramatic flourish, his voice filled with exaggerated excitement. He steps closer to you, clearly relishing the moment. “Looks like someone’s gonna have to kiss me,” he says, his grin widening. “Don’t worry, love, I promise I’m a gentleman.”

You can’t help but laugh at how confident he is, but there’s an undeniable warmth in his eyes that lets you know he’s being sincere, despite his playful banter. He stands directly in front of you now, a mischievous glint still in his gaze.

You raise an eyebrow, teasing, “Are you sure you’re ready for that, Louis?”

“Oh, I’m more than ready,” he says with a wink, taking a step closer until there’s hardly any space between you. He lowers his voice, his tone softer now. “But I think it’ll be worth the wait.”

Before you can respond, Louis leans in, his hand brushing against your cheek as his lips hover just inches from yours. There’s a moment of quiet anticipation, and then, with a sudden burst of confidence, he presses his lips to yours.

His kiss is bold, filled with energy and laughter, but there’s a depth to it that takes you by surprise. It’s not rushed—though he’s the playful one, there’s a sincerity to the way he kisses you, a moment where the teasing fades and all that’s left is the simple connection between you two.

As he pulls back, a wide grin spreads across his face, and he looks at you with that familiar, mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “Told you I was a gentleman,” he says with a wink, his voice playful but soft.

You laugh, a little breathless from the kiss, but the moment feels easy, lighthearted, and somehow… perfect. Louis doesn’t let the teasing stop, but the energy between you two is different now, and there’s a warmth in his gaze that matches the glow of the Christmas lights around you.

“Merry Christmas, love,” he adds, his voice still light and teasing, but his smile now a little softer, a little more sincere.

Harry

When Harry spots the mistletoe hanging above you, a small, knowing smile tugs at the corner of his lips. His usual calm and collected demeanor remains, but there’s something different in the way he looks at you—a softness that wasn’t there before. He takes a small step closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Well, this is convenient,” he says, his voice low and smooth, with a hint of playfulness. There’s no teasing in his words, just a quiet acknowledgment that the moment is here. He steps into your space, and for a moment, everything else fades into the background. It’s just the two of you, standing under the mistletoe with the world softly humming around you.

Harry gently reaches for your hand, his touch warm and gentle. The space between you feels charged, and you can see the unspoken emotions reflected in his eyes. It’s clear he’s thought about this, and now that the moment is finally here, there’s a sense of quiet certainty in his movements.

“Guess this is the part where I kiss you, then,” he says, his voice soft but confident.

You nod, your heart fluttering at the way he’s looking at you, his gaze tender and filled with something deeper. He leans in slowly, as if savoring every second of the moment. His lips meet yours in a soft, careful kiss, and it’s like everything slows down—his warmth, the gentleness of his touch, the feeling of his lips against yours is everything you’ve wanted in a first kiss and more.

The kiss is gentle, tender, and yet there’s something undeniable about it—a connection that goes beyond the mistletoe, beyond the holiday tradition. It’s as if all the words you couldn’t say are being expressed through this one quiet, meaningful kiss.

When Harry pulls away, he doesn’t go far. His forehead rests gently against yours, his breath warm against your skin. His eyes flutter closed for a moment, and he smiles softly, a little shy but still radiating that familiar warmth.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

You smile, your heart racing from the intensity of the kiss. “Me too,” you reply softly.

Harry chuckles, the sound low and rich, before he pulls back just slightly, his thumb gently brushing the back of your hand. His gaze is full of something unspoken, something more than just a holiday kiss—it’s the beginning of something deeper.

“Definitely worth the wait,” he adds with a smile, before he leans in again, pressing a quick, soft kiss to your forehead, leaving you feeling warm and entirely content.

#one direction drabble #liam payne x reader #liam payne x y/n #niall horan x reader #niall horan x y/n #one direction x reader #one direction x y/n #zayn malik x y/n #zayn malik x you #louis tomlinson x y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction Christmas #one direction Xmas

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hazzashouse · 1 month ago

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First Christmas as a couple (Harry Styles one-shot)

A/N: Merry Christmas 🎄! I hope this little Harry one-shot warms your hearts this holiday season. Thank you for reading and supporting my writing—it means the world to me! Stay tuned because I’ll be sharing more festive one-shots in the coming days to keep the holiday spirit alive. Wishing you all a cozy and magical Christmas!

If you enjoyed this story, please consider leaving a comment, liking, or reblogging—it truly means so much and helps support my work.

Summary: Spending their first Christmas together, Harry and the reader savor quiet moments filled with warmth and laughter.

Triggers: None—this is a soft, fluffy Christmas story with no heavy content.

Pairing: Harry Styles x Female Reader

The snow fell softly outside the window, flakes swirling under the glow of twinkling fairy lights Harry had insisted on hanging everywhere. The small, cozy living room smelled of pine and cinnamon, the Christmas tree in the corner twinkling with mismatched ornaments. Harry was kneeling by the fire, poking at the logs with careful concentration, his pink lips pursed in focus.

“Harry, you’re going to set the whole house on fire,” you teased from the couch, wrapping your blanket tighter around you.

He turned, a mischievous grin spreading across his face, dimples deepening. “I’m a man of many talents, love, but burning down our first Christmas isn’t one of them.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered at the way he said “our first Christmas,” like it was something to be cherished, something important.

Harry got up and dusted his hands off, his emerald green sweater slightly askew, revealing a sliver of his collarbone. He crossed the room and sat beside you, his arm snaking around your shoulders as he tugged you against him.

“You’re freezing,” he murmured, pulling the blanket over both of you.

“Maybe because someone made me wait outside in the snow for fifteen minutes while he picked out the perfect tree,” you teased, nudging him with your elbow.

“It had to be just right,” he said, faux-serious. “Our first tree should be special.”

You laughed softly, tilting your head to look at him. His curls were messy, catching the light from the fire, and his eyes seemed to glow.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours. “And yet, here you are,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing.

Before you could respond, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, his hand cupping your cheek gently. The kiss was warm, unhurried, and it felt like everything a first Christmas kiss should feel like—comforting, sweet, and full of promise.

When he pulled back, his gaze lingered on you, soft and full of something you couldn’t quite name but felt all the same.

“Harry,” you began, but he cut you off, reaching into his pocket.

“I wanted to give you this,” he said, pulling out a small velvet box. Your breath hitched as he handed it to you, his fingers brushing yours.

“Don’t worry, it’s not a ring,” he said quickly, though there was a teasing glint in his eyes. “I mean, not yet.”

You opened the box to find a delicate gold necklace with a small charm—a tiny snowflake encrusted with a single diamond.

“Harry…”

“I saw it and thought of you,” he said softly. “Unique, beautiful… and maybe just a little too perfect for me.”

Tears pricked your eyes as you set the box down and hugged him tightly. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Well, now you’re stuck with me. At least until the tree comes down.”

You laughed, leaning into him as the fire crackled softly. Outside, the snow continued to fall, but inside, everything felt warm and bright, just as Christmas was meant to be.

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