#yeah i don't celebrate christmas but i don't have anything against it

[skylernightmare]

I think we lost the point of the discussion, which is to some degree my fault. Because if we go back to the original reason of our argument: Why isn't Bruce allowed to give his kids - who have at large probably celebrated Christmas before they became part of his family, maybe even as a religious practice - Christmas gifts? Why do they not deserve to keep practicing this part of their life, just because not everyone in their family is Christian? Yes, the holidays probably shouldn't be exclusively Christmas themed in the manor, because some of the people there probably have other traditions around that time, but that just means that they should have a celebration combined out of everyone's traditions around that time.

Also, gift giving isn't part of the original Christian tradition of Christ's Mass, it's something that over time happened to be a tradition for the new interpretation of Christmas.

And why is it so important to you that no one who isn't a Christian/Catholic/Protestant/evangelic isn't celebrating Christmas/calling their celebration Christmas? What harm does it do to you? It has been a tradition for many non religious people for centuries and most religious people don't have a problem with that, so why should they start giving a new name to a celebration that they practiced in centuries, that was renamed by the church?

Yes, I wouldn't have anything against celebrating it and calling it Yule or winter solstice, even though I am by all means a (non-practicing) evangelic/Protestant, but every time I would have to explain to everyone around me who I talk to about it, what and why and probably 95% of people would just say that that sounds like Christmas. Mostly because finding out about how the rites work and what to do for them, leaves me with the fact that I can't do the biggest part of it on my own/my family. And that what I can do is mostly just Christmas.

So yeah, at this point it is mostly a name for a kind of celebration. The rites that some people do, are probably secular to Christians, but that does not mean that the holiday at large is.

i keep seeing people talking about bruce giving the bat kids christmas gifts and i just. bruce wayne is CANONICALLY JEWISH.

[bananatemilkshake]

🎄 Send these trees to ten people you wish to have a good holiday and happy new years 💖✨️💖✨️💖✨️💖✨️💖✨️💖

Oh golly it's christmas! I don't celebrate it but man it's cristmas holiday! What? Mariah Carey is behind me? I can't hear you over this loud crismah song. Wha-

/j

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

The Birthday Blurb

I think we all just really love Jason Todd and he definitely makes me feel things. Anyway, Happy Birthday, Jason Todd and Alfred Pennyworth! (Vaugley suggestive, as a treat) ~1.4k words

Jason doesn't care much for his birthday. You're slowly changing his opinion on that. It's not that people haven't celebrated his birthday, it's just no one's celebrated it the way you have.

He wakes up a little later than normal, and frowns when he notices your side of the bed is cold. He clambers out of your shared bed and stumbles to the kitchen.

You're there. Dressed in his shirt. It's a sight to see, probably one of his favorites, he decides when you look over your shoulder and offer him a bright smile.

"Happy birthday, Jason! I made breakfast, did you want coffee?" You ask as he walks behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tucking his chin against your skin.

"Breakfast?" He asks, voice heavy with sleep as he presses a kiss to your neck. Breakfast is nice, but the fact that he knows he has a whole day with you is even nicer.

"Mhm," you answer idly, shifting slightly in his gasp to reach for the plates. He beats you to it, keeping you firmly against his body with one arm.

You laugh a little and thank him. Jason determines then and there that it's the best present he's ever gotten.

"C'mon," You tell him, and he lets you pull away so you both can sit and eat. The food is great. At least he thinks it is, he's a little distracted by how pretty you look this morning, every morning, to really taste the food.

He smiles blissfully at your stories, how your voice tilts when you're excited, "So, I was thinking we visit that bookstore you like? And maybe that cafe we had our second date at? Then we can head over to the manor for your party."

He hums fondly and reaches over to brush invisible strings from your shoulder, "It's just dinner. Not really a party."

You grin and lean into his touch, "It's kind of a party. Your family's gonna be there. And your friends. Roy's bringing Lian."

Jason matches your smile, "That'll be nice."

"It will," You say eagerly, and grab his plate to clean up before he can take yours.

He pouts a little, standing up to try and grab the dirty dishes, "I can do that. You cooked."

You laugh a little, teasing and avoiding his hands, "It's your birthday."

"Doesn't make me incompetent, you know," he protests, lazily following you around the kitchen.

"Sure," You agree, turning to meet him and reaching out to brush his hair out his eyes, "But it does mean I want today to be special for you."

His eyes light up, and a sly smile spreads across his face, "Every day is special with you."

You make a face and laugh, "Cheesy. I walked into that."

He laughs with you, grabbing your hand as you lead the way back to the bedroom, "You did. You know I can't help it, not when it's right in front of me."

"Yeah, yeah, you're real funny," You drawl, letting go of his hand to get dressed. He only gets you a little distracted when his hands start to trace your bare sides. But hey, it's his birthday, he figures he can be a bit selfish.

When you both finally make it out of the door of your apartment, Jason doesn't bother to hide the smug look on his face. He tucks you under his arm, admiring the marks on your throat you couldn't quite hide, "You're pretty."

"You're a menace," You answer, but even if you try to sound annoyed, your eyes look nothing but happy and playful, "we're seeing your family later. Alfred's going to be there."

He nods, eyes trailing from you to watch your surroundings as you walk to the bookstore, "Well it's not like they don't already know. Remember during that Christmas party when they walked in on us–"

"Hey!" You cut him off, embarrassment painting your face, "We agreed to never mention that."

He smiles wickedly, "Mm, I don't think I agreed to that. Besides, I thought I could do whatever I want."

"Anything besides talk about the most mortifying moment of my life," You correct and nudge his side as he pulls open the bookstore door for you.

"Fair enough," Jason chirps, content with the look on your face as you wander the shelves.

You both pick out a handful of books, he gets to kiss you, tucked behind a row of bookcases, and he doesn't think he's stopped smiling since you've settled in the chair next to him. The coffee shop is quiet, sweet smelling, and full of memories between the two of you.

He traces patterns over your thigh idly as you sip your drink, "This is where that kid dropped their cupcake all over you."

You smile, "Yeah. Ruined my nice shirt. You gave me your jacket."

He trades your drink for his, and takes a sip. He grins when you try his before trading cups back, "I was freaking out."

You raise an eyebrow at him, "You were freaking out? I was the one that had frosting everywhere."

"Yeah, but you looked sad. You were nice to the kid and said it was fine. But you looked sad and I didn't know how to make it better," he admits.

"You did make it better. You make lots of things better. Besides, it wasn't all bad, I got to wear your jacket. I didn't realize how soft they are," You say fondly, leaning a little into his side.

Jason pulls his hand from your thigh to drape his arm over your shoulder, and presses a kiss to the side of your head, "You make things better too. And I liked seeing you in my jacket."

He melts a little when you smile up at him, "Now we're both being cheesy, Jason."

"Nothin' wrong with that," he murmurs as you laugh, idly reminding him that you need to leave for Wayne Manor soon.

It takes some convincing to get you on his bike, you're worried over Alfreds present, but your helmet is on, and your arms are around his waist soon enough. Having you hold onto him while he drives down Gothams roads is another strong contender for his favorite birthday gift.

The ride ends too soon for him. But he can't complain, he thinks as he helps you off his motorcycle, there's still the ride back. And maybe you won't notice this time if he takes the long way home.

There's more people than he expected, once they're inside, and Jason thinks he masks his surprise well. It's a nice party. He watches you kiss Alfred on the cheek and hand him his present. He plays with Lian and pretends the Tamerianian pistol Kori got him isn't actually super cool and he's definitely not itching to try it out. (Yes, he sneaks you away to the batcave to shoot it. Yes, you end up making out. You dressed up and you look beautiful, sue him.)

He smiles when he blows out his candles and smiles even wider when Alfred blows out his.

You don't mention it when he takes the long way back to the apartment, only trace your thumb back and forth over his stomach. He drives a little faster when you do.

The whole day was perfect. He doesn't know how it was, his birthdays are never perfect. But as he lays down in the bed that you share at the end of the day, he realizes that he feels good. Just, he's content, happy. And it was you, and the people who love him, who made it that way.

He sighs softly, looking forward to cuddling with you and getting some well-deserved sleep. He doesn't have patrol tonight, after all.

"Jason," You call out as you step out of the bathroom. His eyes dart to you and he sits up immediately.

He breathes out your name, takes in every inch of you. You're wearing lingerie, and it's in his color. "It's that– baby," he stumbles over his words, every thought flying from his brain at the sight of lace and ribbons against your skin, "is that for me?"

You smile shyly at him, and he's over the moon, pushing off the bed to get closer to you, "Do you like?"

"I love it, I love you," he says firmly, eyes never leaving you. You giggle, echoing the words, as his heart practically sings in his chest and his hands find your waist. He knows he looks dumbfounded, and any thoughts of going to bed leave his mind.

Who needs to sleep? Not him, not when he has a few more hours of his birthday to enjoy with you. Not when he needs to make it clear, you're the greatest gift he could ever get.

[misctf]

What do you think about that idea?

A homophonic nerd who hates christmas. Get a present of the local frats and turns into a new member of the frats and celebrating Christmas by getting fucked by his new bros or/and fuck them.

Jeremy groans as he hears aggressive knocking at his door. Maybe if he ignores them, they'll leave. But after a few more minutes, the aggressive knocking returns. He looks up from his chemistry textbook and sighs.

“Its finals season, don't people have better stuff to do? He grumbles as he walks and opens the door, “This better be good.” He mumbles, but as he opens the door, his eyes narrow.

Jeremy glares at the burly fraternity brothers standing on his doorstep- half naked despite the cold. Their obnoxious Christmas caroling grating on his nerves. 

“Can't you see I'm trying to study?” he snaps, crossing his arms over his thin chest.

The frat boys' smirks falter momentarily at Jeremy's harsh tone. They shift uncomfortably, seemingly surprised by the reaction. One of them, clearly the ringleader, steps forward.

“Hey, chill out man! We were just trying to spread some holiday cheer.” he says, attempting a grin.

His biceps flex as he crosses his arms, mirroring Jeremy's posture. The others snicker behind him, their eyes roving over Jeremy's slender frame. 

“Yeah, you could use a little 'cheer' yourself, nerd.” another one sneers.

“Fuck off 'bros'.” Jeremy mocks, “Don't you have anything better to do? Maybe get drunk and give each other bro-jobs?” He smirks, clearly proud of his taunting.

The frat boys exchange angry glances, but their leader holds up a hand, silencing them. He turns back to Jeremy, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“Alright, alright, let's not escalate things here.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out something small, holding it out to Jeremy, “Here, consider this a peace offering.” It's a gingerbread man, intricately decorated to resemble a buff, muscular figure, “I hope you appreciate the effort we put into this.” the frat boy says, chuckling, “We figured since you're so into...books and shit, maybe a little holiday baking would brighten your day.”

The others snicker, but there's an undercurrent of tension still lingering in the air. Jeremy narrows his eyes suspiciously at the gingerbread man, but takes it. After an awkward and begrudging thank you, he slams the door in their face. Jeremy slams the door shut, annoyed at the interruption. He sets the gingerbread man down on his desk, eyeing it skeptically. It's ridiculous how detailed the decoration is, almost like a caricature of muscle-bound masculinity.

“What a joke.” He mutters.

Jeremy picks up the gingerbread man, examining it closer. Despite himself, he feels a pang of hunger. He breaks off a leg and pops it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. There's a sweetness to it, but also a savory depth that's surprisingly satisfying.

“Huh, not bad. Maybe those assholes actually know how to bake.” He chuckles at the thought of burly frat bros baking together.

Jeremy barely notices the subtle tingling sensation starting in his legs. At first, it's almost imperceptible - a slight heaviness, a tightening of the skin. He absentmindedly rubs his thigh. As he continues munching on the gingerbread man’s legs, the sensations intensify in his lower extremities. Muscles begin to swell and thicken beneath the surface of his skin, straining against the fabric of his jeans. The denim stretches taut, creaking softly as it struggles to contain the rapid growth. His calves bulge outward, transforming from a lean, wiry shape into a thick, corded mass. Veins pulse visibly along its length, prominent and throbbing. Higher up, Jeremy's thighs begin to balloon, expanding into a formidable pillars of raw power. His quadriceps and hamstrings hypertrophy at an alarming rate, bunching and rippling beneath his skin.

“Fuck.” He mumbles, shifting uncomfortably on his new pillowy bubble butt, “I should move around a bit.”

He stands up to stretch and takes a bite out of the gingerbread man’s torso. As he does, he feels a surge of energy course through his body. His stomach rumbles hungrily, craving more of the sweet, spicy flesh. He devours the rest of the torso in greedy mouthfuls, savoring every morsel. With each bite, Jeremy's transformation accelerates. His midsection expands, the once-skinny waistline now a chiseled expanse of defined abs. Each ripple and groove is etched into his skin like the finest marble sculpture. His chest broadens, pectoral muscles growing dense and powerful. His nipples harden into pert, masculine buds, standing proudly atop newly formed pecs. Shoulders widen, trapezius muscles bulging with strength.

Still unaware, Jeremy's hands tremble slightly as he brings the gingerbread man's arm to his mouth. He bites into the soft dough, feeling the texture melt between his teeth. The flavor explodes across his tongue, a perfect blend of spices and sweetness. As he chews, Jeremy's arms undergo a dramatic metamorphosis. Biceps and triceps swell, growing massive and imposing. Forearms thicken, veins popping out in stark relief. Wrists broaden, tendons standing out prominently as they anchor the gigantic muscles above. With each swallow, Jeremy's sense of balance and coordination deteriorate further. He stumbles backwards, dropping the gingerbread man's head onto the floor with a soft clatter. 

“Oh fuck!” He falls backwards and lands on his ass with a loud thump.

At that moment, his clothes rip from the strain of his muscles, falling away from his chiseled frame. Jeremy gasps when he sees his new figure. He surveys his new physique, hands reflexively reaching out to touch the ridged planes of his chest. His fingers trace the defined edges of his pectorals, marveling at the sheer size and hardness of the muscle beneath. Beneath the gaze of his own awestruck reflection, Jeremy becomes acutely aware of the substantial bulge straining against his underwear. He shifts uncomfortably, feeling the fabric dig into the newfound mass. With a sharp tug, the elastic waistband gives way, allowing the underwear to slip down his thighs and pool around his ankles.

“Holy shit... what did that gingerbread man do to me?” Jeremy gasps as he stares at his growing erection and he instinctively wraps a meaty hand around his cock.

A shiver runs down his spine as he realizes the full extent of his transformation - not just physical, but also primal and instinctual. His mind reels, struggling to comprehend the sudden shift in his desires and needs. Jeremy's gaze drifts to the remnants of the gingerbread man lying on the floor. The head, still intact, beckons to him with an unsettling allure. A part of his mind screams at him to resist, warning of unknown consequences, but the allure of the sweet, spicy treat proves too strong to ignore. With a sense of trepidation, Jeremy plucks up the gingerbread head. He brings it to his lips, hesitating for a moment before taking a tentative bite and then devouring it. The flavors explode across his taste buds, a potent cocktail of sugar, spice, and something darker, more primal.

“Oh fuck...” He grunts as he feels a pressure in his skull.

His features begin to shift, contorting into a more brutish, angular visage. His nose flattens, becoming wider and more prominent. Cheekbones sharpen, giving his face a harder, more chiseled appearance. His eyes, once a mirror into his sharp mind, become dull, gleaming with confidence and arrogance. A cocky smirk spreads across his lips, drawing attention to a set of perfectly straight, pearly white teeth.

“Oh yeah, I'm fucking beast mode now!” Jeremy boasts to no one in particular, admiring his reflection in the mirror, “Look at these guns!”

He flexes his massive biceps, watching in awe as the muscles ripple beneath his skin. He gives them each a kiss. His ego inflates with each passing second, replacing any semblance of humility or empathy.

“You know what? Fuck school. Who needs books when you've got a body like this?” Jeremy scoffs, kicking aside his textbooks and notes. “Time to live life to the fuckin’ fullest.”

A knock at the door pulls Jeremy away from his self-indulgence. He quickly grabs a pair of his old red briefs, which strain against his ass and cock, and strides over to the door. The frat boys who had earlier disrupted his study session stare wide-eyed at the towering, musclebound behemoth now standing before them. But their silence quickly turns into snickers and low whistles as they take in Jeremy's exaggerated physique and the prominent bulge straining against his skimpy underwear.

“Well, well, well, looks like that’s the way the cookie crumbled.” one of them jokes, elbowing his buddies and grinning wickedly. 

The others chuckle and high-five each other, clearly amused by their friend's successful prank. The ringleader steps forward, patting Jeremy's shoulder roughly.

“Welcome to the team, big guy! Now that you've got the right look, why don't you join us for some holiday cheer?”

Jeremy’s dull mind processes the request, and he grins as they hand him a Santa hat. And despite the cold, he joins his new brothers in their caroling. Belting out the words to various songs. Enjoying the looks of pure lust as he shows off his masculinity. As they walk back to the frat house, Jeremy felt a firm hand on his ass and feels the lustful eyes of his new frat bros on him.

“I think it might be time to frost our gingerbread man.” One of his bros snickers, adjusting his bulge, “You ready Jer?”

Jeremy's grin widens, his dull mind now consumed by a single-minded desire to please and impress his new fraternity brothers. He nods eagerly, a spark of excitement igniting in his chest at the prospect. He licks is lips, imaging their cocks in it- his ass pulsing with need. Yeah, he was going to give them a Christmas they’d never forget.

[unknownati]

xi. christmas!

a/n: guys part of this was supposed to be the PROLOGUE to a 12 part sfw and nsfw winter/christmas themed drabbles (mini fics?) but i got too busy 💀 literally had 4 days left to write but then the 12th went by and i was like... damn

its ok tho i might upload the finished days just as separate fics

while we're here why does nle choppa have a christmas song

warnings/tags: none rlly, just fluff, SO corny, SO sappy, no use of y/n, no description of reader's features, gn!reader, decorating w/ ekko 🎉, reader is a THIEF, pre-arcane plotline (choosing happiness)

_______________________________________________

christmas in zaun was nothing close to ideal. it was never if people celebrated, but more if they could afford it, which most of the time was a no. unless people had kids, they weren't going out of their way to make it a whole thing. not only that, but people didn't really care for it, anyway. they had other things to do. sure, maybe you'd see some extra lights around, or maybe a few lopsided wreaths hanging on a weathered door, but it was always the bare minimum.

but ever since you snuck into piltover as a kid right at the tail end of december, your world was absolutely rocked by the blinding lights and stars and bows and garlands and wreaths and the huge tree sitting smack dab in the middle of the city, illuminating the night sky.

after that, you were obsessed with the idea of christmas. you never had the funds, nor the time, nor the energy, nor enough friends or family to make anything happen all by yourself. but the dream stuck to you.

and then came ekko, and with him, a chance. a huge tree? with an abundance of people living there? it gave you the best idea.

*✲ﾟ*｡⋆

cool november air was giving way to the first hints of winter, the sharp bite of cold nipping at the cheeks of zaunites. warm colored leaves were shriveling into themselves and trembling down onto the concrete, scattering through the town. settled in uneven piles, nestled in corners, where the wind could push them no further. christmas has long began to be advertised in piltover, and your excitement was uncontrollable.

quiet as a mouse, you slipped into ekko's work room. he's sat on his stool, elbows rested on the table with his figure shadowing over his work. your fingers glide across his biceps, chin resting against his right shoulder.

"hey handsome," you chirped, working your digits over the curves of his muscles. your lips curled into a grin you were incapable of withholding. "y'got a minute?"

"for you, always." he turned, hands hoisting the weight of his upper body on his knees. his eyes softened upon looking at you. "what's up?"

you slid on his lap, feet swinging back and forth, pendulum like. "soooo," you begin, leaning back on his shoulder. "i'm sure you know what christmas is."

"yeah, why? want me to get you something?" his fingers twisted at the hem of your sweater. you shake your head—not the goal right now.

"no. well, yes, but not what i'm asking you for right now," ekko's head tilts in response. your voice dropped into a playful yet unsure murmur. "iiiiii wanted to know if you'd maaaybe be willing to decorate the base and celebrate it this year?"

his thoughts stutter, and then he laughed. "baby, you know i'd love to, but i can't. don't have the time or the money."

a pout formed on your face, lips jutting out. "we don't have to spend money, we can use what we have lying around! and i have some extra money on the side. we're not flat broke."

"doesn't solve the whole time thing."

"oookay, make time. we'll have the kids help, too! you won't even have to do much, like—seriously, think about it. we don't even need to get a tree because the firelight tree, duh. we can use big cardboard boxes to look like fake presents, we can steal lights 'n' other stuff from the pilties—"

you rambled on, every idea you've ever had since childhood resurfacing and bubbling out of you in an unstoppable torrent. each thought, each plan, all of it spilled out, an overflowing pot.

"hey, hey—" he interrupted, thumb stroking your thigh. "listen, those ideas are great. but we can't. and you have got to stop stealing from topside."

your smile faltered. "but why!? think about the kids, think about me!" ekko hesitates to speak, eyes darting around the room as your face transitions into a pleading pout. "please? pretty please? i'll do the dishes for a month?"

"fuck," your eyes filled with stars. ekko groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "fine! fine, jeez."

the squeal that exited you entered directly into his ears, lips pressing kisses into his face in rapid succession.

"thankyouthankyouthankyou!!! oh my god, it'll be great, we can have the kids make little snowflakes, we could have a little fucking wish box to get gifts for some of the kids—" you gasped loudly upon a realization, planting your hands onto his shoulders. "—you can be santa!!!"

he scoffs, brushing a loc of white hair out of his face. "don't push your luck."

you sigh in mock defeat. "fine, hiemerdinger's got that. i'll take what i can get."

"isn't he kinda short for santa?"

you shake your head. "don't height shame."

*✲ﾟ*｡⋆

ekko rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, a small groan rumbling in his throat as he reached over on the bed to find you.

empty.

his head flipped. you've left a now cool dent in the bed in your wake, blanket left in a wild mess.

he frowned, sitting up and looking around. you're nowhere to be found.

maybe you got up to use the bathroom, he thinks, standing up to search the place for you.

the second his feet hit the floor, his brows furrow.

'...glitter?'

his gaze lifts, and his eyes widen as they follow the specks of glitter scattered across the floor, which caught the faint morning light that bled through the curtains.

he followed the trail, small drops of glitter turning into discarded cardboard scraps, which turned into unfinished rolls of ribbon, which lead him to his workroom, where the door was slightly ajar.

he slowly pushed the door open, finding you hunched over a box that you were decorating to look like presents. you tilt your head up to look at him, a smile spreading ear to ear.

"w'ssup?"

he glanced at the small clock on his desk. "it's...five in the morning, why are you up so early?"

you gestured towards the pile of finished boxes in the corner. "working!" the sound of tape ripping off of the roll fills the air as you took a strip, taping the box shut. "i already collected a bunch of paper for the kids to make snowflakes, borrowed some lights 'nd garlands from topside, aaand i'm almost done making all these boxes."

a lot done considering you had had that conversation just the night before.

ekko crouched down to your level, eyes meeting yours. "but...you're gonna clean all this up, right?"

silence.

"right?" he repeated.

your eyes narrowed. "yes?"

"why is that a question?"

you scoff, pressing an empty roll of wrapping paper into his chest. "why are you asking me so many of 'em? get to work. and i need you to use your hover board to fly around and get those lights up," you nod towards a pile of lights on his desk without looking away from your box. he opened his mouth to reply, but you cut him off. "thank you!"

he rolled his eyes and stood, tossing the wrapping paper roll into the recycling bin.

at a more appropriate time in the day, you stood at the top of the firelight tree after capturing everyone's attention. public speaking wasn't exactly your thing, but ekko insisted you do it since everything was your idea.

you cleared your throat as the crowd settled into silence, all eyes on you. you shifted your weight onto your other leg.

"um—wow, okay, hi guys. so, i'm sure you've all...heard of christmas. and i know it's usually kinda lame, but truuust me, this year i'm gonna make sure it's—" you gather your fingers, kissing the tips of them and flaring your hand out. "—chef's kiss."

eyes leave you to glance at other's reactions, the silence lifted by an excited murmur.

"yeah, but i'm gonna need help. i have a bunch of paper that i need to be made into snowflakes, so that by the end of the day this place can look better than it already does."

you shifted their focus to scar, who carried a large bin of scissors, string, and paper of various colors. (earlier, scar questioned how you got all these supplies. you just smiled at him.)

after a quick tutorial, children started racing to gather around him, picking their colors and scissors. within a few minutes, the kids were gathered in groups on the floor, cutting out their best attempts at snowflakes.

pride swelled in your chest and you looked up into the bulk of the tree's leaves, ekko's form flying around in circles with lights being strung along behind him. with fists on your hips, you beam. "i'm amazing," you praise, making your way back inside.

everything came together surprisingly quick. ekko had never seen you that focused—hanging up lights, making paper bows to place at the points where lights held, and placing those big fake presents around the tree. of course, other people helped too, which made the work lighter.

you mostly left the mural alone, only placing a few extra candles and waving to the colorful portraits.

by the time night fell, the project was close to finished. it wasn't perfect, but to you, it was. the entire base was illuminated in warm, white lights, paper snowflakes dangling from the branches and twisting in the wind. the beat in your chest stuttered. it all felt...magical.

*✲ﾟ*｡⋆

over the next few weeks, you kept adding and adding to the scene. and it was all finished just in time for today, christmas eve.

by now, you'd forced ekko into so many christmas activities, some more enjoyable than the others. he thoroughly enjoyed making matching pajamas with you and drinking cocoa that was overflowing with marshmallows—being constantly tricked into mistletoe kisses, not so much. at least, he acted like he hated it. he secretly adored accidentally walking right into your trap of a hidden mistletoe and being attacked by an onslaught of messy kisses.

ekko finds you at the balcony again, glancing out into the scene below. "hm. not bad." he leans against the railing, hips bumping into yours.

"yeah, cuz it's awesome. i did that, thank you."

warm lips meet your cold cheek. "mhm. you did." he paused, tongue running over his molars. "i-um...got you something."

you perked up at his words, head whipping around to face him. "ooh, you just reminded me that i have to finish making your gift, i—"

as you're speaking, he pulls a little box from his coat pocket, black with a messy red bow.

"it's not perfect, but...y'know," his voice trails off. he pops the box open and offers it to you.

inside rested a delicate necklace, light reflecting off of the silver metal and glimmering into your eyes. the chain was thin, the links very neatly melded together, and a little circular locket hanging off the center.

you take the box and reach in, mouth agape in awe, gently pushing the locket open. inside was a tiny picture of the two of you, laying in bed, with you sound asleep on his shoulder. ekko's eyes were shut as he was in the middle of pressing a kiss to your forehead.

you smile down at the picture, warmth flooding your chest. for a long moment, you're just staring at it, ekko awaiting your reaction. your lips press together, your vision starts to blur, and a tear rolls down your face and into the velvet lining of the box. then they just kept streaming down.

ekko's face drops, immediately reaching to wipe your tears. "hey, it's okay, if you don't like it i can get you something else."

you hiccup, shaking your head. "shut up, i love it so much, this is just everything i've ever wanted for my whole life, and it's so stupid but you've literally made this the best christmas i've ever had a-and this necklace is really cute and this was so worth doing the dishes—"

you could've kept going but your joyful sobs cut you off. it was all too much, all the decorations and all the traditions you once wished for finally coming into fruition. ekko's arms wrap around you and you return the gesture, fingers twisting into his coat.

"i'd do it again in a heartbeat." he whispers, moving to peck your wet cheek. once, twice, three times.

"boo," a voice calls below you. "get a room."

*✲ﾟ*｡⋆

[krirebr]

Thanksgiving with the Barbers

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: ~3.4k

Summary: You and Andy celebrate Thanksgiving. Part of the Trapped AU.

Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, references to punishment, isolation, solitary confinement, hunger, negative self-talk, manipulation, angst, mental breakdown - This is a rough one, guys. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Masterlist

A/N: So... remember this part from I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas?

"Don’t you want this Christmas to be better than Thanksgiving?” It took everything in you not to grimace. You still felt the marks from what he’d done to you after Thanksgiving dinner.

Yeah. This is that Thanksgiving.

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who read so much of this and always encourages me to go as dark as my twisted little heart desires.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Andy’s soft murmurs traveled down the hallway to you from the entryway as he said goodbye to his guests. You couldn’t tell how things had gone. He’d seemed happy enough but as he’d started introducing you to his life outside these walls, you’d learned quickly how easily he could have one face for the world and a different one for you. He’d stressed many times all week how important it was that your first holiday together be perfect. Was it? Had you done enough?

You busied yourself with cleaning up the dining room, trying to ignore the churning dread in your stomach. The leftover turkey, mashed potatoes, and roasted vegetables had already been moved to the kitchen, waiting to be put away in the fridge. Then you’d start on the endless dishes. Hopefully, that would buy you some time alone, while Andy went back to the football on TV. 

You kept your head down and continued gathering the discarded plates as Andy’s heavy footsteps came down the hall. He entered the dining room and leaned against the old-fashioned buffet that took over one wall, his arms crossed over his chest. You felt his eyes on you, but you kept your own eyes down and didn’t say anything. You knew better now. 

You had a tall stack of plates now that you wanted to take into the kitchen, but you were afraid of turning your back on him and leaving the room. So, you stood where you were, and you waited. 

Finally, he cleared his throat. You looked up. “You were awfully quiet at dinner,” he said, softly, but there was an edge of steel in his tone. 

“No, I–” you started and immediately regretted it. That was a bad word. “I just didn’t have much to add to the conversation.” The guests were all Andy’s colleagues and their spouses. It’d been too much shop talk to keep track of. On top of being so many more people than you were used to.

Andy made a thoughtful little hum before he continued. “Barbara commented on it, as she said goodbye. Wanted to be sure you were ok, hadn’t felt left out.”

You forced a smile, trying to stop your hands from shaking. “Yes, I’m fine. I had a nice time. It was a good dinner.”

He pushed himself off of the buffet, straightening to his full height. “Really, you thought it was a good dinner? With a dry turkey and an unfriendly hostess?”

You couldn’t help the way you blanched. You’d never cooked a whole turkey before or anything like it.  And you didn’t have access to the internet right now, so you were limited to the highbrow cookbooks Andy had bought for you. While those recipes were detailed, they didn’t exactly have tips and tricks for beginners. You’d tried your best. And no one at dinner had complained. Everyone seemed to enjoy it. You’d thought it was ok. But he didn’t want to hear you defend yourself, so you said nothing. 

He looked at the dirty dishes spread across the table and scowled. “Finish cleaning this up,” he said. “We’ll continue this conversation when you’re done.”

You nodded quickly with a quiet, “Yes, Andy,” trying to keep your sigh of relief inside. He hadn’t said you’d continue the conversation downstairs, hadn’t said anything about a timeout or a punishment. You might be ok. You might get off with just a lecture. You could handle an upstairs lecture—kneeling at Andy’s feet while he listed all the ways you’d disappointed him and everything you needed to do to be better. Sometimes you even got to stay fully clothed. Lectures were fine. Lectures were easy. As long as you got to stay upstairs, you’d be ok.

Without another word, he moved into the kitchen. You heard him opening and closing the fridge as you continued organizing the dishes into neat stacks to hopefully make cleaning up a little easier. He came back with a beer in his hand, moving through to the living room to watch the evening game. As he started to walk by the table, the movement drew your eye to something, his reflection caught in the shiny steel. The carving knife. Just lying there next to the turkey.

The knife block had sensors in it, just like all the doors downstairs or the front door of the house. You had to scan your wristband every time you needed to use a knife while cooking and it would send an alert to Andy’s phone, letting him know whenever you used one, for how long, and when you put it back. But the carving knife, he’d taken that out himself today. As the man of the house, he had to be the one to carve the turkey. And then he’d just left it there, forgotten about it. The carving knife.

As you stood there, staring at it, it was like all of the parts of yourself he’d worked so hard to turn off, suddenly came roaring back on. How much you hated the dress you currently wore. How exhausted you were after working in the kitchen all day without a single thank you. The lecture that you knew awaited you, being forced to kneel at his feet. All of your own holiday traditions that had been stolen from you so that you could accommodate his. Everything he’d taken from you. The rage bubbling up inside of you was cleansing. You felt it giving you new breath, new life. You felt yourself coming back.

You looked up at Andy as he continued to move, his back to you now. That perfect, broad expanse. You could see it so clearly. The way you’d bury that knife between his shoulder blades. You lunged across the table.

Andy spun around as soon as he heard you move, his bottle of beer slipping from his hand, it’s contents spilling everywhere. Somehow, in that instant, he saw what you were grasping for and lunged for it too. Oh god, he was so much closer to it. You'd timed it all wrong. You were stupid in your desperation and anger. Oh well. You'd already made the choice. There was no turning back now.

You threw yourself onto the table, arm outstretched, dirty plates beneath you, just as his hand wrapped around the handle of the knife. You let out a guttural scream as he threw it away from you and it clattered against the baseboards. 

A beat too late, you tried to crawl backward, your knees struggling for purchase on the tablecloth, plates crashing to the floor, but Andy had already grabbed your still outstretched arm, dragging you towards him as you flailed, trying and failing to grab onto anything that might help you. 

He pulled you over the edge of the table and you fell to the floor, landing harshly in a jumble, more plates falling around you. He loomed over you, face completely overtaken by rage. But it couldn’t compare to yours. You kicked out wildly, indiscriminately and you’d never felt more satisfied than when you landed a few hits to his shins and he grunted in pain. Your satisfaction was short-lived, however, as he recovered and reached down to wrap his hands around both your wrists, even as you struggled as hard as you could to get away from him. 

He didn’t say a word as he dragged you across the floor. That was fine. You had no problem filling the silence. “You fucking motherfucker!” you screamed, the frustration and terror and anger of the last several months finally finding an outlet. “I hate you! I’m gonna kill you! I’m gonna burn this house to the fucking ground!”

Your struggles kicked up a notch as he opened the door to the basement with one hand, the other now holding on to both of your wrists. “No!” you yelled. “You can’t fucking do this! I’m done pretending to be your perfect little wife! You can’t–”

He wasn’t gentle at all as he yanked you down the stairs. You had to pause your fighting and screaming as you fell, the breath knocked out of you. You tried to protect your head, tried to protect any part of your body you could as you hit every step. Your dress did nothing to help as it gathered above your waist. You were exposed and vulnerable. But what else was new? You were immune to it now, after being debased every single day for months.

He paused at the bottom of the stairs to adjust his hold on you, using both hands to drag you again. Still, he said nothing. But you caught your breath and resumed your litany of hate. “You’re so fucking weak. You’re pathetic. Of course, you had to buy a wife. Who would love you willingly?” The carpet burned your skin as he dragged you across it, but you continued to struggle, continued to scream. Nothing would stop you now. “You’re disgusting. Embarrassing.”

He stopped in front of the door to the quiet room and you almost laughed. Did he really think this was just some little tantrum a time-out would fix?  Did he really not understand the rage and power that flowed through you now? Did he really think a few hours in the dark would quell this? No way. After everything you’d been through, everything you felt now, you could handle the quiet room.

He threw you in and closed the door behind you. You sank down into the darkness. This was fine. This was great. The darkness couldn’t hurt you.

You’d forgotten what it was like to have no understanding of the passage of time. It’d been hours. It had to have been hours. Right? 

He would come get you soon. What would you do then? Attack him as best you could. The rage still coursed through you. You were done laying down for him.

It must be getting late. It’d already been evening when the guests left. You were so tired now. Exhausted. But you had to be ready when Andy opened the door.

You startled awake as the furnace whirred to life. You were slumped over against the wall, your face pushed into the cinder block. It felt grimy.

You didn’t remember falling asleep. How long had it been? Minutes? Hours? Where was Andy? Whatever tenuous grasp you’d had on what time it was was completely gone now. That was ok. Andy would come soon and you’d beat the shit out of him, and then you would know what time it was.

It was the hunger that hit you first, but the thirst hit you harder. You knew now that this was the longest he’d ever left you here. You’d never gone hungry like this before. Well. He would let you out soon. He had to.

Your stomach hurt with how hungry you were. Your throat ached. Would he just let you die down here? Was he that angry? So angry that he’d decided to cut his losses. Start over with someone new. Was starving to death better than your life upstairs? Or the basement? You honestly didn’t know.

You were sprawled across the floor, as much as you could in the small space. What was the point of being upright? You could barely even tell which way was up anymore. It was all just darkness.

Suddenly, you were hit by a sliver of blinding light. What was happening? It took you embarrassingly long to realize it must have been a slot in the door you’d never seen before. Then something slid through it. You blinked at it, trying to get your eyes to focus, trying to make sense of what you saw. Oh my god, it was food! You lunged for it and tried to pull the tray to you, but it wouldn’t budge. That was better anyway. You needed the light to eat.  

On the tray was a small plate of leftover turkey and green beans and a bottle of water, along with a small plastic fork. You went for the water first, downing it, and then scarfed up the food, not even tasting it. After a few minutes, on the other side of the slot, you heard an alarm go off, and the tray was pulled back, a few bites still on the plate. “Andy, wait!” you called out, but the slot slammed closed and you were in the dark again.

You didn’t have anything to do. You couldn’t remember the last time you had nothing to do. Before Andy brought you here. Evenings in your little apartment, watching TV and eating takeout, fucking around on your phone. You hadn’t done that, hadn’t even thought about doing it in months. 

When you first got here, when your list of chores felt insurmountable and ridiculous, you would’ve given anything for the chance to lay around and do nothing. But now, it didn’t feel right. You should find a way to be productive. Andy was going to be so disappointed in you.

You hated yourself for thinking it.

You tried to do some yoga. You were so stiff from laying on the floor, but it was too hard when you couldn’t see how much space you had and were too scared of hurting yourself on the furnace or hitting the wall. So you went back to doing nothing.

The worst thing about waking up in this room was that you had no memory of falling asleep. It was all just darkness. Maybe there was no real difference between sleeping and being awake. How could you even tell anymore?

Andy brought another meal. Well, you assumed it was him. There was no one else. But you didn’t see him. He didn’t say anything. The tray was pushed through the slot, you ate and drank as fast as you could, the tray was pulled away. You didn’t say anything to him either.

You were so fucking bored. You’d tried singing to yourself. Running through old movies you remembered watching on TV as a kid. Reciting passages from old books. You felt like you were running out of thoughts.

There’d been three meals. If you could count the meals, that was sort of like keeping track of time, right? Even though you had no idea how often he brought them. Still, it had to be something.

The furnace was going to drive you insane. That whirring, whirring, whirring. White noise that wouldn’t stop. So loud you were afraid that the noise was just inside your head now. Maybe the furnace wasn’t even on.

“Andy,” you called out when the slot opened. “Andy, please.” He didn’t say anything. He never said anything.

The timer must have gone off sooner this time. The tray was pulled back when you were only halfway done. You started crying as the slot started to slide closed. Your stomach felt too empty.

You realized your mistake after he was gone. You had to call him sir when you were in the basement.

You started talking to yourself. Just to hear your voice. Any voice. You didn’t have anything to say, but you just couldn’t deal with the silence.

It wasn’t worth it. You saw that so clearly now. What did you really think you’d gain? You were never going to kill him. You couldn’t even hurt him. You were never going to win and you’d lost even more by trying.

You couldn’t remember whether there’d been six or seven meals. You’d lost count. And they were all the same. Nothing differentiated them. There was nothing to hold on to. This was the one thing tethering you to anything real and you’d lost it. There was no getting it back. You didn’t know how long you’d been crying.

He was tired of you. He was done. He was the only thing you had in the whole world and you’d lost him. You’d fucked it up. You were going to rot away in the Quiet Room until you were nothing. There was no getting out.

You crawled over to the slot when it opened and put your head right in front of it, keeping your eyes closed to avoid the burn of the light. “Sir,” you pleaded, your voice raspy, “sir, please. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, sir. Please.” You were crying. You couldn't stop. You couldn't hide it. 

He paused before he pushed the tray through, but he didn't say anything. 

You were lying on the floor, trying to figure out whether you were awake or dreaming when everything was suddenly bathed in light. You must be dreaming. Oh, but would a dream hurt so much? You rolled onto your stomach and curled up in a ball to try to shield your eyes from the light. Wake up wake up wake up, you chanted to yourself.

And then– Then, as you were curling up, tighter and tighter, on the floor, someone touched you, lightly, gently on your back. When was the last time you’d been touched? You didn’t know. You started crying, even as you pressed up into the soft caress.

“Oh sweetheart,” someone said. An angel. But wait. You knew that voice. “Look at you,” Andy said, ��we’ve both had a rough few days, huh?”

You slowly rolled back over, wincing harshly at the light. There he was, crouching over you. You squinted at him, trying to make out his features. You started to sit up, but it ached to use your muscles that way.

He reached out a hand to help you. “Go slow, honey,” he said, and his voice was so gentle. “Give yourself a minute to adjust.”

“Sir?” you rasped. Was he really here?

“Hi sweetheart,” he cooed, as he carefully pulled you into his arms. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“How–” you blinked up at him, feeling so disoriented. “How long?”

“Too long,” he answered sadly. “But we both needed time to calm down, didn’t we?” 

He stroked your back, and you whimpered. It felt so good. You’d been alone for so long. You nuzzled into his chest, the tears still streaming down your face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t– I shouldn’t have– I don’t know. I’m so sorry. I didn’t understand. Please forgive me.”

“Oh honey,” he sighed. You wished that you could drink up his gentle voice after so much silence. “I know. I know. It was a hard day. I understand. I’ll forgive you. After your punishment, it’ll be like it didn’t even happen.” 

“Punishment?” you looked at him in horror. “But– This– I–” You’d already been through so much. How could there be more?

“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice picking up a firm edge. “This was just a little timeout. For both of us. So that we could both calm down and think about what happened. You know I never want to punish you when I’m angry.”

“But I’m sorry,” you cried, grasping at his shirt. You didn’t think you could handle a punishment. You were afraid you’d break into a million pieces in that room.

“You tried to hurt me.” All of the gentleness was gone now. “You have to be punished so you learn.”

You barely nodded as you curled up in his arms, crying quietly. You’d been so stupid. So, so stupid. It was such a mistake.

“I’ll tell you what, honey.” His hand resumed its stroking, up and down, up and down your back. So gently. “If you’re very good for me, if you take your punishment like a good girl, then we can go right back upstairs when it’s done. We won’t have to spend any more time down here.”

“Really?” You’d been so afraid that you’d doomed yourself to months down in the basement again, even worse than before.

“Really. Neither of us wants to be down here, do we? We both want to be happy upstairs, don’t we?”

“Yes, sir. Please, please. I’ll be good. I’ll be a good girl.”

“I know you will be, sweetheart. Let’s go get it over with, huh? Then we can take a nice long bath to get all this grime off of you. Can you move? Can you get up?”

“Yes, sir,” you mumbled into his chest, but you didn’t make any effort to move. Not yet. You wanted to savor this for a few more moments. You knew that as soon as you got into the punishment room, all of the gentleness would be gone. He’d be the figure from your nightmares again. And you knew you deserved it. You were so stupid. But you needed a couple more minutes of his soft touches before you’d be ready.

Tag List

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @midnightramyeoncravings @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @ronearoundblindly @brandycranby @steviebbboi @missaprilt23 @foulpersonahandsvoid @alexakeyloveloki @spiderwebbedhearts

[blackmoonowl]

𝘾𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙢𝙖𝙨 𝘾𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨

Robert Joseph MacCready x reader

Contents: Your first Christmas out of the vault, and you try to cling to the past with a small celebration with your new wasteland partner.

A/N: This one was late chat, my bad.

"You old people really love your holidays, don't you?"

MacCready leaned against the outside wall of your home, cigarette hanging between his lips. For ten minutes he's been watching your sad attempts at decoration.

"Yeah yeah, laugh it up," you grumbled in return as you 'accidentally' let a part of the Christmas lights fall, letting it drop onto his head, knocking his hat down onto the ground.

"Hey! Watch where you're swinging that thing!" MacCready scolded you as he knelt to pick it back up. "Where'd you get that thing anyway? Never seen it before."

"Picked it up while I was searching one of the grocery stores when I was looking for pre-war food," you replied with a smile as you stood on the ladder. "Lucky find."

"Found something actually useful? Could use a few extra caps in my pockets." You rolled your eyes at those words, looking down at him.

"Caps, that's all you ever think about, huh?" You replied, hanging up the rest of the lights.

"Mostly, I also think of you, sometimes." He showed you a cheeky smile, showing off his crooked and messed up teeth, worn down by the wasteland.

"Charming," you replied as you finished, stepping down from the ladder, landing on the ground with a small thud. You looked up at the lights decorating your humble new home. Not all of them worked, but it was better than nothing.

"Can we go inside now? Don't fancy freezing out here." The mercenary wrapped his arm around you, his head on your shoulder with a mildly annoyed expression.

"Oh, stop complaining, Christmas spirit and all that," you teased, gently smacking his hat down in front of his eyes as you walked past him towards your crooked front door.

"Never really had much with Christmas, not like anyone left me a gift," MacCready replied, fixing his hat and trudging behind. "Never had anyone to celebrate with. Well, not anymore, I suppose."

A small frown crept on your face as you rubbed his back. The mercenary's muscles relaxed under your touch, a sigh escaping his lips.

"You have me now... right?" You tried to cheer him up. "I know that doesn't fix anything... but it's something." MacCready didn't reply at first, opening your front door and shutting it after both of you had entered.

You prevented it from going further, your hands planted on his shoulders. MacCready looked at you.

"Sorry, I just..." he rubbed his face with his hand, trying to find the words to explain how he felt.

"Don't apologize, I understand. You've had it rough." You gently grabbed the back of his hand, gently pulling it off his face, wrapping your fingers around his rougher, calloused ones. "I'm just glad you're here."

"Thanks doll, you just know how to make me feel better." It was meant to sound like his usual flirting, but you could hear his emotions brewing beneath the surface as he leaned down to press a swift peck against your lips before pulling back.

"That's it?" You asked with a small smile on your face. You gently grabbed his face with both your hands, pulling him close again so you could kiss him, allowing the moment to linger.

MacCready's eyes lit up slightly despite his complex feelings. He moved his head slightly to kiss the inside of your palm before you pulled your hands away from him.

"Next year we'll celebrate with Duncan, I promise," you finally mumbled, and he nodded.

"Thanks, I'd like that," MacCready replied. There was an awkward moment of emotionally charged silence between the two of you before he spoke again.

"Still so damn cold around here, I'm gonna go get firewood if you make us some decent grub to eat." He grumbled as he tossed his hat onto the table before making his way out the door.

"Are you kidding me? I'm going to make the best Christmas dinner you ever had," you replied, leaning on the old, worn-out couch you had somehow managed to drag into your house.

"That's putting the bar pretty low," he retorted his hand on the doorknob. His brief grin turned into a softer smile. "Still though... thanks, for everything. I really don't deserve you."

"Don't be ridiculous," you replied, crossing your arms over your chest as you shot him a scolding look. "I'd be dead without you, you know?"

"Guess that makes two of us." Was the last thing he said before disappearing out the door, wrapping his arms around himself to keep somewhat warmer. You on the other hand, began searching through your rations. There was leftover Radstag meat with wasteland vegetables like corn and tato's. There wasn't a whole lot to work with, but you were determined. Grabbing old, sharpened knives you scavenged from a vault, you got to work.

As you worked, MacCready walked back in with his arms full of firewood. He dumped it in the makeshift fireplace as he got to work, making a fire.

After rubbing the limited range of wasteland spices into the meat, you put it in an old pot before placing it above the fire, standing next to your partner.

"Smells good," he commented, placing his arm around you. "You might just convince me to like Christmas. Got a gift for me next?"

"Greedy much?" You huffed in response, bumping your hip against his, causing him to chuckle.

"Worth a shot," he hummed, smiling more genuinely now. "You're the best gift I could hope for, though. I've felt more at peace now than I have in years." MacCready walked over to the couch, plopping down and pulling you with him. You let out a small laugh as you were squeezed to his side.

"I mean it," he spoke, leaning on you. "I love you."

Glancing up at him, your smile widened.

"I love you too."

[midnight-mourning]

Sending a couple request ideas!!

Mayhaps some sharing Christmas with the merbois, giving them presents (maybe some mistletoe smooches)

Or alternatively! An au of your choice where the bois see snow for the first time :0

Fishy Traditions

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 28❄️❄️

back at it again with ANOTHER mer au (making this my second mer fic ever, yippee), enjoyed writing this one as well, hope you all like it too ^-^

Prompt: See Above

Word Count: 1502

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

"Put more over here, Sunbeam!" Sun calls out to you. "And here, and here, and here!"

You laugh, but oblige him, heading over to the sections of the cave he directed you towards, bundles of holiday greenery in your hands. "Okay, okay. I'm on my way."

You'd considered other, brighter decorations, but you worried about things that were artificial potentially harming either mer. There was also the concern of them trying to eat it, given they've attempted such with things like your phone before. You wouldn't outright say you didn't trust them but... you were certainly thinking it. 

So, you settled on what you were assuming—hoping—were mer-safe decorations. Things like fir boughs, mini Christmas trees, and of course, mistletoe. You hadn't told them the significance of that last one yet, you think they might go a little crazy over it and you want the place to be decorated before that happens. 

Moon tsks as Sun points to other spots for you to set things. "You're going to crowd the place and then it won't look good anymore. And all their hard work will be for naught."

"I'm not doing anything of the sort! You're just jealous I have a better understanding of this holiday than you." Sun sticks his tongue out at the other mer, who growls in response. 

You turn around to continue hanging things up, laughing at the two of them. When a wave of water hits you in the back. You jump, turning around in time to watch the two of them wrestle in the water, bickering about who's right and who's wrong. 

You clear your throat loudly and the stop, looking over to you as you turn around and point to your back. "Let's settle down now, yeah?"

Mumbling apologies, they separate, but not before grumbling and shoving each other at least one more time. 

You shake your head, sighing as you trudge over to a rock and sit down, having to remove your jacket and shirt to change. Luckily, you'd been planning to stay the night with them, so you could celebrate the following morning. Therefore, you had pajamas to change into, laying your wet clothes out to dry. Now the only issue was making sure you stayed dried the rest of the evening. A daunting task in and of itself. 

Once you're settled, you get back to it, finishing up decorating their cave a little bit after that. All that was left was to decorate the tree, with fish-safe ornaments or course. 

This meant two options really, candy canes and strings of popcorn. Both of which had your mers eyeing the tree hungrily. Maybe you should have left it bare after all. 

"You can't eat the decorations." You scold, swatting Sun's reaching claw away from the tree's base. "At least wait until tomorrow, anyway."

"But I know they'll taste so good." Sun whines, making grabby hands for a low-hanging candy cane. "Just a nibble! You won't even notice!"

You laugh, using both hands now to push back against his forehead. "No, then you'll want more, and more, and then we'll have a sad looking tree!"

"Sunshine I'm starving. Please, I'm going to wither away here." Sun's hands grip your wrists, pouting as he looks up to you. 

You huff. "We literally just ate dinner!"

Finally, you have no choice but to relent. Tossing not one, but both of them a candy cane to quiet their begging. 

You almost don't want to put their presents under the tree, knowing it won't end well for you. 

However, you think you're able to distract them with explaining more of your traditions. Keeping your gifts safe in the meantime. 

"And as a kid, we'd go drive all throughout the neighborhood to look at the lights. I always ended up falling asleep before we made it home." You're lying on your stomach, facing the water, as you explain to them. 

"I still don't understand these 'cars' you talk about, but that sounds similar to how we'd stargaze during winter migration." Moon's floating on his back, gaze unfocused as he reminisces. "The sky always seemed clearer in the colder months, brighter."

"You always fell asleep earlier, you missed all the good parts." Sun snickers. He's closer to you, holding your hand and snuggling it against his head as he rests against the pool's edge. 

You divert that argument before it can start, snapping your fingers on your unoccupied hand. "Oh! I haven't even told you one of the best ones." You reach behind yourself, grabbing a little bundle of mistletoe you had left over. "You see this herb?"

They both nod, heads tilting as they watch you curiously. 

It makes you laugh as you scootch closer to Sun and once you do, you lift the mistletoe above the two of you, giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

You pull away after a moment, grinning. "When two people meet under mistletoe, they're supposed to kiss. It's like a cute way to—hey!"

Sun snatches the mistletoe from you, now holding it up himself as he starts to pepper your face with kisses. You start laughing and putting your hand up to get him to stop but it does nothing. All of the sudden he's stopped, and looking up you see that Moon's dragged him under the water. You push yourself up into a sitting position and watch the two of them fight under the water. 

Suddenly, Moon emerges and swims over to you, grin sharp as he holds the soaking wet herb above his head. 

You roll your eyes, and give him a quick kiss. "You act as if I'm not going to be fair."

"Best not to take any chances, Star." He snickers, kissing you several more times before Sun gets revenge, dragging him back under the water. 

By the time they're done the mistletoe is unrecognizable. And to settle things you have to give them each their own bundle so to stop their arguing. 

After that, it becomes a game for them of who can get more kisses with you in the shortest amount of time. It gets to the point you have to back away from the water's edge to catch a breather. You're reveling in the attention, but damn. 

Finally, after sharing more traditions in the form of singing carols and telling stories, you start to tire out. You're ready to curl up in your sleeping bag and go to sleep, when you're suddenly surrounded on all sides by mers. 

"You two cannot be out of water for eight hours." You protest. "It's not safe!"

Sun flicks his tails and you hear a small splash. "We're partly in, that's enough."

"Besides, we at least want to give you your gift up close." Moon says, and shifting presents you a package wrapped with dry seaweed. 

You sit up slightly, taking the gift into your hands. "Oh, you guys didn't have to get me anything."

"Of course we did!"

"You got something for us."

You shake your head. "Still, thank you."

"Go on, open it!" Sun encourages. "We think you're really going to like it."

"We do, at least."

Sun hushes the other mer, hiding his face for a moment as Moon snickers. 

You're not sure what it means, and let it go as you unwrap your present. 

Lying inside is a beautiful necklace, consisting of tiny shells and little glass beads. Sea glass, you recognize. The center charm is a small sand dollar, with a sun and moon carved into it. Looking closer, you can see writing in their language. If you remember correctly at least part of the inscription includes their names. 

"Guys, this is, incredible." You rub your thumb over the carvings. 

"We wanted something that suited you best, compared to the typical choices."

You aren't sure what he means by that, but you don't get to ask as Sun rests his head on your shoulder, eager. "So you like it? You really really like it?"

"It's beautiful. I love it. Help me put it on, yeah?" You hold it out, and they take it, putting it around your neck together. 

Once it's done you reach up, adjusting it so the main charm rests properly. 

"Well, how's it look?" You ask. 

"Amazing."

"Just like you."

You feel heat briefly rush to your face. "Thank you."

You give them each a quick kiss, then settle back in their hold, content to fall asleep then and there. 

"So, can we open our presents now?"

You crack an eye open, frowning. "You've got to be kidding me."

"It's only fair, Starlight." Moon argues. 

You sigh. "And I was just about to fall asleep. Alright, fair's fair."

You haven't even got the words out before they're reaching over, shredding open the packaging to see their gifts. The chaos of it makes you laugh, and you bask in their excitement and joy at the presents, clutching your own gift in your grip. 

It's a Christmas to remember, that's for sure.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Thank you for the request @baby-bloos! Twas a fun one to do esp since it gives me the chance to take another crack at mer things :)

Masterpost link

Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info, you can also dm me!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay

[gunnerfc]

🎄WOSO FICMAS: Dec. 18 - Kyra Cooney-Cross 🎄

Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader (Arsenal) | WC: 753

Dec. 18 prompt - finding yourself under the mistletoe with the person you have a crush on

-> woso ficmas masterlist can be found here!

Leah had decided to host a team Christmas party after the last game of 2023, wanting everyone to have a chance to celebrate the holidays together before everyone left to go home. As you got ready for the party, you could feel the nerves starting to grow within you. Your crush on Kyra only growing by the day and you weren’t sure what to do about it. You hadn’t told anyone on the team, knowing the second they found out, they’d tease the hell out of you.

You were one of the first to arrive at the party, offering to help Leah finish setting up and making sure everything was ready to host the entire team. In rushing around to finalize everything, you failed to notice the mistletoe that was in the doorway leading to Leah’s kitchen. Had you known about the little plant that was up there, you would have avoided being alone with Kyra even more than you would have naturally.

It wasn’t until everyone had arrived that you truly noticed the nerves. Watching from the living room as Kyra made small talk with her fellow Aussies, you felt your face flush as you heard Leah sit beside, you clearing her throat to get your attention. When you met the blonde’s eye, she didn’t say anything but the knowing smirk on her face let you know your secret crush had just been discovered.

You quickly excused yourself to the kitchen, needing to find something to drink and to calm your nerves. Standing in the doorway, now with a cup in your hand you let your head rest against the siding, your breathing evening out.

“Hi, Y/N. you good?” the familiar Aussie accent caused you to jerk your head away from the siding, making eye contact with the one person you were trying to avoid tonight.

“Yeah! Yeah, I'm good! How are you?” you were sure Kyra could hear how shaky your breath was but she didn’t comment on it, a small “me too” leaving her mouth.

Kyra moved closer to the doorway, now standing under the mistletoe that neither of you knew was there. Neither of you spoke, both feeling the nerves of being this close to the person you had a crush on, even though the other had no idea.

Just as you were about to speak, planning on asking about how she planned to spend the holidays back in Australia, Katie walked in between you, focused on getting a drink from the kitchen. You and Kyra both moved to let the Irishwoman pass, not expecting her to stop right in front of the two of you.

“Y’know you're under the mistletoe, ya gotta kiss now.” Katie didn’t bother to stay to see if you followed through.

You and the midfielder stood staring at each other with wide eyes before slowly looking up, coming face to face with the mistletoe. A small part of you was hoping Katie was just fucking with you but she had in fact been telling the truth.

Both you and Kyra locked eyes again, both feeling your nerves. Though a part of you saw this as an opportunity to finally tell the Aussie how you felt.

“We don’t have to! I'm sure they won't even know that we didnt.” Kyra spluttered, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

With a quick shake of your head, you muttered “I want to.”

Neither of you moved at first, but Kyra made the first move, stepping closer to you giving you time to leave if you wanted. You quietly exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding as you moved a hand up to rest on the side of the midfielder’s neck. Kyra gave you a little nod before your lips met in a short but sweet kiss.

You both pulled away, faces flushed from having finally made a move. Neither of you spoke and soon the quietness between the two of was broken as you heard Caitlin calling for Kyra. Despite the other Austrialian’s yelling, Kyra didn't move.

“If I don't go see what she wants, she’s just gonna keep getting louder.” the Aussie joked, but before you could respond, she added, “We can talk about this later I promise. I really like you and I wanna take you out on a date.”

All you could do was nod, not fully trusting your voice. Kyra’s smile grew, the Aussie leaning in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving to find your teammate.

[kissitbttr]

hello! i read you miss having asks and i don't know if you maybe miss having some requests (in case you aren't taking any you can ignore this and i hope you'll have a good day <3)

but what about some domestic Miguel and spending your first Christmas together? just imagine sitting on the couch in front of the TV, with a blanket covering both of you, watching some way too romantic soap opera, while drinking some hot chocolate and just enjoy the moment <3

(i know this is so early and we are still in November, but I swear, I can already feel the nostalgic feeling of Christmas </3)

xmas with miggy? say no more baby!!

-

it is absolutely one of your favorite holiday, ever. the music, the decorations, the presents for your loved ones, the cooking and baking. everything about christmas just screams fairytale,

miguel has never been the one who’s fond of this specific holiday, or any holiday for that matter. he would drown himself in work to avoid any invitations from friends. sad but anything to get away from interacting with strangers.

now ever since you stepped into his life, he can’t help but see how this year’s christmas would be different. having you with him to celebrate together just changes his perspectives. now he has someone to hold and love, this christmas would bring joy into his life.

you and him had been pretty busy with the decorations and stuff. buying a Christmas tree, getting pretty ornaments, looking for presents etc.

“need a hand, baby?” miguel steps into the kitchen, seeing you take out fresh cookies from the oven. you look so… comfy. dressed in his old t-shirt with your hair tied up in a bun—his clothing is basically a dress so there’s no need to be putting on some pants other than underwear—

you nod, looking up at him before setting the cookies on the counter. “can you put those hot chocolates on the table, my love?” you ask with a smile,

his heart soars at the nickname before grabbing the two cups of hot cocoa with tiny pink marshmallows in them. “you pick or i pick the movie?”

you’re quick to raise your hand in a child-like manner, causing him to laugh. “me, duh!” you answer as if it’s the most obvious thing. “we’re tuning in The Mafia Dolls and La Reina Del Sur”

miguel groans at the choice, shaking his head as he put the tray down on the table before grabbing a blanket. “you just want to watch Kate Del Castillo because you have a crush on her” he points out,

shrugging you showcase an expression of no shame. “she’s hot. you know i would leave your ass for her”

miguel jaw drops open, hand over his heart as he watches you stifle a giggle. “i’ve had enough time dealing with men trying to hit on you on a daily basis and now i have to compete with Kate Del Castillo too?!”

“her and Eva Mendes” you nod, arms crossed, smiling to yourself as he rolls his eyes before throwing you a playful glare and sit on the couch. “you’re going to pay for that comment”

you give him a cheeky smile. grabbing two cookies as you stride towards him, his large arm coming to wrap itself around your waist. he gently pulls you down on the couch, letting your head rest against his chest as you feed him a cookie.

“mhmm” he hums in approval. “new recipe?”

“yeah. you like? grandma sent the recipe to me. said that i have to treat my man something nice every once in a while” you giggle to yourself as he put his arm behind you. his lips plants a kiss on top of your head.

“tell her i said thank you” he mumbles as he turns on the tv. “i like this you know?”

a hum rumbles from you as you lay your back comfortably against him, taking another bite of the cookie. “what is?”

then he smiles, eyes landing on you. his fingers move to stroke your soft hair gently, catching that sweet scent of your strawberry mint shampoo that he finds obsessed over.

miguel can’t exactly remember when he had something like this. probably in his childhood? not quite sure. even if it was true, he doubts that it’s actually memorable. he remembers there were a lot of screaming match and broken plates though. maybe that’s why he avoids christmas like a plague. it was never magical.

but you… oh god, you.

you changed it for the better. the decorating christmas tree, wrapping up presents for each other, counting fails at an attempt to create gingerbread house, cooking up delicious traditional food instead of unseasoned dish that he sees people are making. and it might not be a big christmas party like in movies or how his co-workers do it, but that’s okay really. that’s just how he prefers it.

you, him and christmas.

“being with you” he responds, not minding the chatters coming from the tv. “estoy agradecido por ti, princesa”

“so, so grateful” he mumbles, pressing another quick kiss on your temple.

his words cause your gaze to soften. you slowly turn your head to look up to him from the tv, who’s eyes glued into the screen. your heart warms at the sight of miguel being comfortable with you, a small smile attached to his face.

leaning forward, you give him a soft kiss on the corner of his lips. he sighs out of contentment at the gesture, hand around your waist tighten.

“i’m grateful for you too.”

-

aaa this feels like it’s rushed but i hope u like it anon! I’m sorry it took too long:(

[a-simple-imagine]

That Warm Christmas Feeling

Synopsis: Your spending the holidays with Jordan but you wake up feeling hot…

Pairing: Jordan Li x fem!reader

Words: 1k+

A/N - Happy holidays my lovelies. I woke up feeling absolutely awful which sucks but here’s a little gift. It's short and messy but enjoy.

WARNINGS - swearing

a blanket of white snow paved the way for joyful celebration and family festivities. the festive season had been deep in your bones since late November. the cheesy Christmas movies. the bright flashing lights. and jolly old men in beards. you never cared much for the festive season by any means, it almost seemed like too much but you were making a conscious effort to try and enjoy it. you want the first holiday season together to feel even just a little special. you had been dragging them along to all kinds of festive events. you had been ice skating and drank hot chocolate. Christmas shopping around the markets. it was all just fun and games. the main event was to take place at their home. your first time meeting their parents. it seemed like such a big step for a rather new relationship but you weren’t against the idea. it would be fun.

a loud groan forces its way past your lips as you roll onto your back. a dull ache settles deep in your bones. a thick fog invades your head as your brain throbs. a blocked, tickly nose. great. you’re sick. on Christmas day of all days. you pull the covers up over your head to escape the sun peaking through the windows. couldn’t have picked a worse day. “good morning,” whispered in your ear. there’s an edge of excitement to their voice. their hand comes up to remove the duvet and reveal your less-than-pleased expression. You move away from them, burying your fave deeper into the pillow. “You good? I thought you'd be more excited. My parents have a full day planned, you're gonna love it.”

A pit of guilt or nausea grows in your stomach. You really wanna get up and enjoy the day but you also just wanna go back to sleep. “Please don't be mad,” you mumble against the fabric of the pillow.

“Why would I be mad?”

“I feel like shit,” you admit. “I think I'm sick.”

“Oh,” there's a pause that almost allows you to drift off again. “That's shit.”

“I’m sorry,”

“no no don’t be,” they reassure you. “You should stay in bed if you're not feeling up to it.”

“is that okay?” you ask quietly.

“Sure, they’ll understand. go back to sleep and I’ll check on you in a little bit, okay?” your only answer is a slow nod that pushes the fabric of the pillow roughly across your cheek. The door clicks shut and you drift off into sweet, sweet unconsciousness.

The time is a mystery when your eyes flicker open next. The world doesn't feel real as your head hammers with an uncertain pain. You sniffle as you fall onto your back. That's when you spot Jordan approaching with a steaming hot beverage in their hand. “How you feeling?” you just groan extra loudly emphasising just how awful you felt about the entire situation. “so good then yeah,” the bed dips beside you and he reaches over with a free hand to check your head. you don’t feel particularly hot so it probably wasn’t a fever. “Mom made you some tea, said it’d fix you right up but don’t feel like you have to.”

pushing up into a seated position, Jordan hands over a mug decorated with little Christmas trees and snowflakes. a heavy sigh leaves your lips. it really did feel like more effort than it was worth just sitting up straight. you take a cautious sip and warmth spills through your veins. “I feel like I ruined today,” you mumble into your cup. staring down at the swirling liquid. “I should have mentioned earlier.”

“you didn’t ruin anything,” Jordan expresses, a calming hand placed on your leg over the covers. “it’s not your fault you got sick.”

“I haven’t really felt great the last couple days but I thought it’d just go away.” you shrug, taking a much larger sip. “I really wanted to do Christmasy things with you. your parents probably think I’m awful.”

“They don’t think that,” they chuckle softly. “just focus on getting better and we can do Christmasy things tomorrow. they won’t mind.”

“thank you for the tea,” you reply handing back the drink.

“and besides,” he takes the drink back. “you’re giving me an excuse to get away from them. I need a break every now and then.“are you hungry?” you shake your head slowly. falling back down against the bed.

“tired.”

they just chuckle. “I’m gonna sit here a moment longer before I brace my parents again. just ignore me.”

the room is shrouded in darkness when Jordan enters once more. a crack of light filtering through the door. you don’t bother acknowledging them; just pull the thick duvet closer to your chest. a heavy sigh fills the air but it doesn’t come from you. the bed dips beside you. “are you awake?” they ask but you don’t bother answering. a silence a silence falls over the room as they shuffle about doing god only knows what. “I’m sorry you got sick,” Jordan speaks aloud. “I wish you could have spent the day with us. my parents can be a lot but they do go all out for Christmas… and I was looking forward to giving you your present,” their voice is quiet and you’re not sure if you should admit to being awake now. “my parents would have loved it. they’re already obsessed with you and they’re so happy I finally brought someone home. and I was gonna tell you I love you” After a moment you know they’re climbing into bed with you. an arm around your waist. you roll over to face them. “maybe tomorrow.”

“you’re gonna get sick,” mumbled out.

“I don’t mind,”

“Are you sure?”

“mhmm,” hummed softly and you don’t bother arguing. you just snuggle closer to his chest. they feel safe and comforting. a welcomed addition to your cosy domain. “I’m glad you’re here,”

“I’m glad you’re here,” you repeat against their chest. “and for what it’s worth. I… love you too.”

“you heard all that,” you don’t respond just shuffle further into his embrace. falling asleep to the sound of their heartbeat as a gentle kiss is pressed against your head.

[fanfictiongirlie]

Marvel: Unplanned Chapter Fifteen

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader (First person written though)

Description:

"It says...it says it's positive doll" His voice matching mine in a quiet shaky whisper.

"Fuck... I'm pregnant?"

"Yeah doll, you're pregnant"

"Fuck" I whisper.

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, smut, descriptions of injuries nothing gory though

Chapter Words: 2,701

Hope everyone had a good christmas (Or a good day, if you don't celebrate. Enjoy this chapter!)

A few weeks later, the day Bucky had been dreading came along, he looked up at me sadly, whilst Jamie played happily on the carpet with her toys. I was getting ready, dressed in my Avengers outfit, my custom rifle was strapped to my back, my knives strapped along my belt. It felt good, my outfit was tight against my skin, it sucked in parts of me which were less defined since having a baby, not that I minded those parts anymore. 

Bucky's eyes darkened as he watched me, he hated this, he knew how important this was for me, but he hated the idea of me leaving him and Jamie. I knew he was trying to keep his expression neutral but he sucked at that. 

"You all set? Got everything you need?" He asks, I pat along my body and smile widely at him. I was excited, I started exercising the moment it was safe too after having Jamie, so my body was ready, I needed to be back in action.  

"I have, it's a quick in and out mission, a day tops" I smile at him, hoping he'd smile back. He nods, his jaw tensing. He forced a smile, I frowned a little. 

"Yeah..okay..Just...you be careful doll, come home safe to us" He asks. 

"I promise, I'll be home before you know it" I smile leaning down to kiss his lips, I lingered for a moment, feeling my body flush as my lips touch his. I moved away and crouched down to Jamie. 

"Jamie, say bye bye to mama" I say, she looks up at me, her eyes wide and innocent, her face lighting up when she looks up at me. 

"Mama bye" She says, along with a few incoherent syllables, waving her tiny hand in a wobbly wave. 

"Love you sweet girl" I whisper, kissing her forehead for long enough she started to wiggle against me. I step away, watching the two of them for a moment, feeling my heart ache. I took a deep breath and left the room, I jogged to the mission room where Nat waited for me. She smiles when she sees me. 

"Ready?" She asks. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to focus and push away the thoughts of Bucky and Jamie. I meet Nat's gfaze, my expression determined. 

"Yeah I'm ready, let's do this" I grin, we climb into the jet and Nat gives me a run down to the mission. I listen intently as she flies the jet, it's straightforward, a simple intel mission, though I know better than to underestimate anything. I asked a few questions to clarify things when needed. I struggled a little during the mission pushing Jamie and Bucky from my thoughts, but Nat and I worked together, I loved working with her, she was my favourite mission partner. 

The mission goes easily, we get the information we need, there was a small fight, but nothing we couldn't handle, I was left with a few scratches and bruises, but I was happy to be back in the game. When we got back to the Avengers Compound, I hung up my weapons and the on sight nurse checked me over, none of my injuries were deep. A strange part of me enjoying seeing the bruises, being back on missions was something I was very excited for. 

We had been gone for two days, I was ready to see my two people. Once Nat and I finished up writing the mission report, I rushed out from the room and travelled through the compound until I reached my apartment, I opened the door seeing Bucky pacing the room, one hand stroking his beard and the other resting on his hip. 

"Miss me?" I ask as I step into the room. Bucky's eyes instantly rake over me, his expression flickers from worry as he spots the bruises and scratches over my body. He moves forward and I'm in his arms as he holds me close in his arms.

"Like crazy doll" He whispers, his arms tightening around me. 

"Oh I missed you" I whispered my voice muffled in his shoulder. 

Bucky holds me tightly, his grip bordering on possessive. He buries his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling the familiar scent. His voice is gruff when he speaks again. 

"You have no idea doll...Everything go okay? You're not hurt, are you?"

"A few scratches and bruises, nothing I couldn't handle" I answered. 

Bucky pulls back, his eyes roaming over me again, looking over the injuries I had. I watch as his jaw clenches, his protective instincts probably kicking into overdrive. 

"Oh Bucks, it was so fun, such a rush!" I grin excitedly "Now where's my girl?" 

Bucky rolls his eyes, his worry mixed with fond annoyance at my excitement over the mission. "She's in her room, down for bedtime"

"I wanna see her" I whispered, I take Bucky's hand into mine as I lead him into Jamie's bedroom. She was asleep in her crib, her tiny body wrapped up in a baby blanket. I sigh happily when I see her, I reach down to gently stroke her sleeping face. 

"Missed my girl" I whispered. 

"Not nearly as much as we missed you" Bucky whispers, his hand touching my back.

"Baby, I was fine, back to my Avengering days" I say happily as I turn to face him. Bucky lets out a huff. 

"You say that now doll, but next time you come home with more than bruises and you're laid up in bed for a week, we'l see how 'fine' you are then" He grumbles. 

"Mmmm you can wait on me then, can't you" I grin, stepping closer to him. I watch as he rolls his eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. 

"Oh is that right? You think I'm gonna be waiting on you hand and foot, doll?" He asks. 

"I know you will, you worship me" I giggle quietly, aware Jamie was still sleeping. I pull Bucky out of Jamie's room, and shut the door. 

"Damn right I do" Bucky says, his jaw clenching. "But don't get used to it, just because I can't say no to you most of the time, doesn't make you the boss of me"

"Sure Bucks" I say smirking, I move a little closer to him, pressing my lips to his neck. I hear his breath hitch, a small shiver ran through his body and he coughed slightly to hide it. But I noticed. His hands moved to rest on my hips, he held me closely. 

"Dammit doll, you always rile me up" He mutters as I nip at his neck. 

"I could always stop?" I say quietly against his skin. 

Bucky's hands tighten on my hips, pulling me flush against him, he lets out a low growl, his voice a mixture of desire and warning. 

"Don't you dare"

Suddenly he pulls me away from outside Jamie's room, and pushes me against the opposite wall. His body presses against mine as he captures my lips against his in a demanding kiss. I sigh happily into his kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck. Bucky's hands gripped my hips, his fingers digging possessively into the flesh. His tongue explores my mouth, tangling with my own in a hungry, insistent dance. A low growl rumbles in his chest, his body presses into mine harder, pinning further to the wall. 

Bucky breaks the kiss and moves his lips to my jaw. 

"Gonna fuck me against this wall Bucks?" I ask breathlessly. A low, dark chuckle escapes Bucky's lips as his teeth nip against my jaw. His voice is a rough, possessive rumble, his eyes darkened with lust. 

"Damn right doll, right here, right now" 

"Fuck...yess. I love you"I groan loudly, my hands move to lift his shirt up. He yanks it from my hands and pulls it off, discarding it carelessly on the floor. He leans forward to suck marks into my neck as his hands grab my waist again, pinning me hard against the wall. 

"Fuck Bucks" I whine. 

"That's right doll, say my name" He says quietly, his metal hand moving to the waistband of my trousers. He nipped at my skin, his teeth sinking into my lower neck and shoulder, just hard enough to leave a mark, he grinded his hip against my hip as his metal fingers slip under my trousers. 

I use my own hands to rip off my shirt, and undo his belt. He stepped backwards suddenly, I pulled down my trousers and he did the same, we both took our underwear off, needing to be naked. His eyes looked over my body, I could tell he was focusing on the bruises littered over my body, on the mission, I was thrown against a wall, and my body showed that. He moved forward, his hands caressing my skin, his touch soft and careful as he traces along the bruises on my body. I sighed loudly, it hurt, but the lust in Bucky's eyes as he touches me made me feel less pain as my own pleasure built. 

"Whatcha thinking?" I asked my head cocking. 

"Seeing you like this...I hate the idea of you getting hurt, but at the same time, seeing you all marked up...It's driving me crazy" He explains, his eyes dark as he looks over my body, I shiver at his words, feeling the wetness between my legs pool. 

"Aw baby, you like the idea of covering me in bruises and marks you make?" I ask quietly, my voice low and full of lust. Bucky grunts, his expression intense. 

"You have no idea doll..The urge to cover you up in my own marks, to claim you as mine, it's nearly irresistible" He groans, I smile softly. 

"I am yours"

Bucky lets out a possessive growl his hands tighten on my skin, he eyes move to lock onto mine. 

"Yeah, you're all mine" He whispers leaning forward, his mouth finding my neck, his teenth scrap along my sensitive skin. "No one else's"

"All yours baby" I whimper as his fingers move from my hip to my clit, he slowly moves two fingers against the nerves. I moan softly, my head falling back against the wall. "Fuck, I wanna marry you...Fuck!" 

Bucky pauses, his lips still against my skin, his body tenses at my words, but his fingers don't stop, his flesh hand moves up to hold my chin, he pulls my head to look at him, our noses bumping. His eyes meet mine, a mix of love and possessiveness in his gaze. 

"You want to marry me, doll? Make me a husband?" He asks quietly. 

"Yes, fuck, I want you forever" I whisper, nodding my head slightly. I watch as his expression softens, he cups my face, his thumb gently caressing my cheek. His voice is gruff, but full of emotion.

"You already have me forever doll, from the moment we met, I was yours" He says carefully, I wonder if he really means that, we hated one another from the day we met. Our first meeting was an argument. "But marrying you, making it official...I want that. I want it more than anything" 

He says each other whilst putting his fingers into my, I spread my legs giving him more room. His fingers stretching my tight hole ready for him, it didn't take him long, we both liked it when I was tighter, the pain of him stretching my was, addicting. He lifts one of my legs and moves forward angling his cock to my hole. 

"Fuck, I'm yours Buck" I whisper as he pushes inside of me. He moves down to kiss my neck as he thrusts into me. 

"You're damn right you are, you're mine, and I'm gonna make sure you remember it every day" He groans, his hips thrusting up into my hard, my pussy stretched around his cock, feeling every vein as he fucks hard into me. I moaned loudly feeling my release my pussy tightening around him. I feel his lips grin against my neck, he pulls away and looks at me with a mixture of love and possession in his gaze. 

"Love you" I whine as I feel my legs getting a little weaker. He holds my leg against his hip a little tighter, using it to fuck into me harder. 

"The sounds you make...I could listen to them all day, I love hearing you say my name doll, say my name?" He begs, his voice becoming a little pathetic. 

"Bucky" I whine as I come on his cock again. His voice hitches, his hands grip my skin harder, his body flush against mine, he leans down his lips moving against my ear as he speaks in a low, ragged voice. 

"That's it doll, say it again, I wanna hear you moan my name, over and over"

"Bucky!" I moan again, and again. He closes his eyes, his body responding immediately to me as I ramble his name again and again. He growls moving his hips faster, his cock slamming into me. 

"Yes, doll! You're so perfect, so perfect for me, all mine, mine, mine" Bucky rambles as he spills into me. We were breathing heavy, our foreheads now pressed together. His eyes were stilled closed as he chest heaved as he struggles to catch his breath. 

He opens his eyes, looking at me through half-lidded eyes, his body trembling from the intensity of his release. I was glad he was holding me up, my legs had gone slack, and I wasn't sure if I could hold myself up. My hands were on his shoulder, holding myself up, my chest moved up and down, as I try to calm my breathing. 

"Doll, you're gonna be the death of me someday" He lets out a bark of laughter as he speaks, his voice happy and exasperated. 

"Let's hope not" I whisper, breathlessly. Bucky chuckles softly, his body still pressed against mine. He reaches up and brushes a strand of my hair away from my face, his touch gentle. 

"No let's hope not, I've got a long life of loving you ahead of me" He whispers lovingly. 

"I hope so baby, bed time?" I ask, my body exhausted from both the mission and mine and Bucky's activities. He peeled himself away from me, his arms still holding me steady against the wall so I wouldn't fall. He reaches down and scoopes my body into his arms, holding me close. He carried me to our bedroom and we crawled into the bed, I moaned softly at the feel of the bed under me, I was happy to be back. 

"Comfortable doll?" Bucky asked, he pulled me close, wrapping his arm around my waist, he pulled me so my head rested on his chest, he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of my head. 

"Very much so" I answered. He rests his chin over my head, holding me close, as he lazily traces his fingers over the skin of my back. 

"I love holding you like this, makes me feel like I'm protecting you, even though I know damn well you're more than capable of taking care of yourself" He whispers into my hair. 

"Sweet man" I whisper back, my voice drenched in sleepiness. 

"Don't be spreading that around ya? Can't have my grumpy, tough as nails reputation ruined" He murmured as he let out a short chuckle, his fingers continuing to trace patterns on my skin. 

"Think that reputation was ruined a long time ago" I replied. Bucky laughed softly, his chest vibrating with the sound against me. He nips playfully at my ear, his tone teasing. 

"Yeah, maybe you're right. I'm a big ol' softie"

"Soft boyfriend to me, soft dada to Jamie" I smile softly. 

"Soft as damn cotton wool for you and a big ol' teddy bear for Jamie" He answers, his voice soft and playful. 

"We love you" I whisper as my eyes shut. 

Bucky smiles to me, he tightens his arms around me, holding me close as he whispers back, his voice a low rumble.

"And I love you both, more than anything in the universe"

Taglist:

@quinquinquincy @jaybbygrl @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @learisa @hi172826 @ravennablue @purplecolordeer @a-small-blue-nebula @buckitostan @knyaotjjkbiatch

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[fushipurro]

Merry Christmas

☆ Content: sfw (with some nsfw undertones), pet names, established relationship, domestic fluff

☆ Notes: the one who left it all behind and his overwhelming jolliness

"toji, can you hold this part for me, please?"

"do we really need all these lights and shit strung up everywhere?" he scoffed, doing as you asked nonetheless with one hand while the other hovered near your back.

something about you and ladders forms a bottomless pit in his stomach but he won't dare take the smile beaming from your face.

"uh, yeah we do? it's our first christmas together as a couple, i want to make it extra special!"

"it's already special with you here."

you leaned down and planted a kiss on the man's forehead, his ears dusting pink in surprise.

"i love you, toji, but you're going to get a full decked out holiday celebration."

"if it makes you happy, but can you at least let me do this?" he furrowed his eyebrows, watching you move the step stool everywhere there was a blank spot in need of holiday cheer.

"no can do, we'll decorate the tree together but i don't know about your eye for decorating." you teased, looking at the man with a smug expression.

he scowled, but softened when you went back to focusing on what you were doing. toji loved watching you so intently focused, the slight pinching of your brows or the twiddling of your fingers while you were debating options, the smile you made when it worked out.

all of this was a first for him, his own family had no need to celebrate just another day that served no use to them. you were shocked but expected as much when it came to the zenins, but resolved yourself to make the season special for toji.

when it came time for the tree, you had to do everything in your power to not be a bridezilla about it. toji was willing to decorate it with you, sure, but the idea that putting four of the exact same ornaments so closely together was so painful.

you snuck a few around from time to time when he wasn't watching, but still let him be creative in his own way since in the end it doesn't really matter so long as the two of you are happy.

"anything else?" he asked, looking at the nearly empty bin. his eyes led him to a small wrapping that he took into his hands.

"oh perfect, you're holding the last thing we need!"

he unwrapped it to reveal a beautiful stained glass star full of colors. "where does this go?"

"at the very top of the tree, i'll go grab the ladde─" toji's arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his body.

"i have a better idea." he smirked, handing you the star while lifting you up from your hips, allowing your legs to wrap around his own. he moved closer to the tree, giving you the extra height you needed to reach the top, placing the final cherry on top.

"okay, now to just plug this here and... voila!" the tree came alive with lights and colors, brightening up the evening room in a beautiful display. "well? what do you think?"

toji took a few moments to take in the sight, leaning down to your lips to kiss you passionately. "pretty, but still doesn't come close to you, sweetheart."

"toojjjiii, you're so sweet." heat rushed to your face as you hugged the man, admiring the tree together. his hands rubbed your back up and down while he held you, looking down at your eyes that reflected the twinkling lights.

you walked over to the couch, taking the remote in hand, "now we have to watch the best christmas movie ever."

"this isn't going to be some sappy chick flick, is it?" he scowled.

"even better, and i know you'll love it."

toji plopped down on the couch next to you, throwing his arm over your shoulder, "yeah?"

"get ready for some die hard, baby. a christmas classic!"

"who are all these cookies for?"

of course he had to ask, the kitchen counters were consumed with several different doughs, pans and cooling racks covering every free inch.

"for us, but there will be plenty to share with others too. we've got gingerbread, chocolate chip, snickerdoodle, and my family's sugar cookie recipe."

"is that what you're working on so intently?" he asked, looking at the rolled out dough and cutouts in front of you. an array of different colors were displayed in small bowls in front of you.

toji moved behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on the crown of yours. you could feel the warmth coming off of him, like you were enveloped in a heating blanket that was your lover.

"it is! the icing is my favorite part, i've always loved to decorate them."

he looked down at the snowflake shape you were beginning to drizzle white icing on, "is it supposed to look like... that?"

"like what?" you questioned before quicking realizing, lightly smacking his thigh making him chuckle, "toji! don't be a perv... it'll turn more opaque when it dries."

toji began to adorn your neck with kisses, tickling you and causing the icing to splatter around your work. his fingers easing their way under the hem of your clothes.

you took the snowflake cookie and shoved it up into his mouth, "you can wait for your present, mister, i've still got plenty of baking to do."

he groaned in disapproval, but took the cookie willingly as he snagged a few more from under you. "save some of that icing for later." he winked, pressing his lips to yours before you could respond.

you laughed, "glad to see you coming around to being jolly."

"if it makes you happy, then i'm happy."

you put the bag of icing down and trotted up behind him, grabbing his wrist and turning him to face you.

"merry christmas, toji." you smiled, pointing your finger upwards. he followed your finger to see a mistletoe hanging above the two of you.

toji leaned down to meet your lips once more, pulling you into his body, "merry christmas, y/n."

[someforeignband]

there's red & green everywhere (but i'm so blue) WC: 1.8k this is for all the christmas haters who have partners that are christmas lovers

Theoretically, Eddie should hate Christmas. It’s an amalgamation of everything he stands against, from organized religious celebration to conformism to capitalist gift-buying bullshit.

And, it’s not like Steve hates Christmas. It wasn’t like that, he swears it’s not. But, this year he didn’t even bother pulling decorations from storage because he knew his parents weren’t coming home.

And that was that, the garland and tree and mistletoe could stay boxed up in the garage. Steve wouldn’t have to worry about breaking his back to decorate the house. He had a partner that not only loved him, but liked him, so he didn't have to worry about impressing someone with unrealistic expectations of him.

For the first Christmas ever, Steve was without obligations.

Christmas might, for once, not be a massive disappointment if he didn’t spend the next few weeks building up excitement for something that would never happen.

It should’ve all been fine and dandy, should’ve been good. Steve could rest easy knowing there wasn’t anything he had to do in preparation for the holiday season.

But, to Steve’s absolute shock and horror: Eddie Munson loves Christmas.

Eddie loves Christmas in a way that he actually owns a copy of Frank Sinatra's Christmas album on tape and apparently keeps it in his car year round. Eddie loves Christmas in a way that means he has a whole box of recipes reserved just for the Christmas season. He loves Christmas in a way that means that he goes all in, just like he does with anything else Eddie loved.

The Munsons love Christmas in a way that means that Eddie and Wayne have a massive advent calendar that they take time every day to open. The Munsons love Christmas in a way that means that there’s VHS tapes of A Charlie Brown Christmas and It’s A Wonderful Life sitting out just begging to be watched.

Eddie Munson loves Christmas.

So much so, that it pretty much looks like Santa and his Elves exploded all over the northeast corner of Forest Hills Trailer Park.

“Holy shit, Ed,” Steve shakes his head, looking around the trailer in disbelief. “This is crazy.”

“Isn’t it incredible!” Eddie grins, unwrapping another string of multi-colored lights.

“It’s-uh...” Steve stammers, trailing off, sort of dumbfounded by the insane amount of holiday cheer.

Not that he cared that Eddie loved Christmas. It was nice, actually, to see him so excited about something so... normal. Maybe this was a minor re-direction of the current timeline. No biggie.

Except that Steve supposed he’d have to rethink just about everything regarding the upcoming holidays. There’d have to be gift buying, and event planning, and meal prepping, and cleaning, and all of this pressure to do things he's not good at.

He's never been good at holidays, or gifts, or family, or love, or any of that stuff that comes with this time of year.

"Wayne needs some help outside with the lights, he's too old to be up on the ladder." Eddie calls over his shoulder, having migrated across the trailer to top the tree with an angel.

"Do you mind helping him out?"

"Oh-uh... No, no not at all. I got it." Steve murmurs, backing toward the door, still reeling from seeing Eddie like this.

Wayne greets him outside, smiling, nose red from the early December air.

"He's serious?" Is all Steve can say, exasperated, breath fogging up in front of him.

"As a heart attack, son," Wayne shrugs, grinning. "The kid loves Christmas." "Oh, no, yeah," Steve barks out. "I got that much."

"He's a little intense," Wayne chuckles.

"Got that, too," Steve laughs.

"I think he gets that from his momma," Wayne shrugs.

Steve moves toward the pile of lights and begins untangling. He's still in a near-trance, thoughts swirling, trying to figure out what this meant for Eddie, what this meant for their relationship-

"Don't work too hard over there, boy," Wayne chuckles, plugging a string of lights into an extension cord.

"Oh, I wasn't, I'm just-"

"C'mere," Wayne beckons him over, pointing at the painter's ladder leaned up against the side of the trailer. "Eddie'll lose his mind if I get up there." And so they go about hanging lights, and Steve's so focused on the fact that Eddie likes Christmas to even recognize that he was on a rickety old ladder, that it was higher than he was probably comfortable with, or even that it was cold.

Eddie likes Christmas.

He climbs down from the ladder, shoving hands in his pockets, just looking at Wayne, whose brows were furrowed, mouth all tensed up like he was trying not to cough or something.

"All done," Steve offers, brightly, slapping on a smile.

He's trying, alright. But, the imminent Eddie likes Christmas won't stop screaming at him, like it's a box he can't check.

"You okay, son?" Wayne asks, and it's like all the air gets sucked out of Steve's lungs.

"I don't think I can do Christmas like Eddie does," He confesses before he can stop himself, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

Wayne laughs, shaking his head, resting a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Nobody does Christmas the way Eddie does."

Wayne was entirely too unserious for the situation at hand and was obviously not understanding what Steve was saying.

"I've never really liked Christmas," Steve says quietly, like it's a secret, like he's afraid Eddie will hear. "I just don't want to disappoint him."

Wayne stops laughing, blinking a few times. "Oh, Steve, it's not that big'a deal."

"I didn't even plan on getting him a gift, I didn't even know we were celebrating Christmas, I thought he would hate it."

"Steve," Wayne cuts him off, placing his other hand on Steve's shoulder. "Eddie doesn't care about any of that."

Steve shrugs his hands off, shaking his head. "I just wish I would've known so I could better prepare."

"Prepare for what exactly?" Wayne asks, wetting his lips.

"So I'd do all the things he needs me to do to make Christmas special, you know? Ugly sweaters and presents and baked goods and all of that Christmas crap."

Wayne's eyes flicker downwards, like he's thinking something he's not saying.

"You wish you could've better prepared? To what? Pretend to be somebody you're not?"

"Well," Steve groans. "Don't say it like that."

"Son," Wayne sighs, and his hand is back on Steve's shoulder again. "The most important part of Christmas for Eddie is being with the people he loves. You are what makes Christmas special for him."

It takes everything inside Steve to not roll his eyes, it would be like Wayne to give him the 'Christmas is about love and family' bullshit. From the way it looked inside that damn trailer, like the North Pole had suddenly relocated to Hawkins Indiana, Steve had a snowball's chance in hell of making Eddie's Christmas special.

"The most important present Eddie will get this year is you spending Christmas with us," Wayne presses further.

And this time, Steve can't help it. He feels his eyes roll, ever so slightly. He sighs, giving Wayne a defeated shrug because this guy can not be serious. Did they see the same Eddie inside throwing fistfuls of tinsel onto every free surface?

But, before he can get into all of that, the front door to the trailer is slamming open and Eddie's skipping around all excited, looking at the lights.

God, Steve felt like shit.

"Look, kid," Wayne tries one more time, squeezing Steve's shoulder, pulling his attention back to the task at hand. "Eddie loves Christmas because it helps him be close to the people he loves. Don't go off trying to be somebody else for him, that would ruin the whole damn point."

That would ruin the whole damn point.

"They look so good, you guys!" Eddie grins, feet crunching over frozen leaves as he trots over to Steve and Wayne.

"And, I didn't get on the ladder even once," Wayne grins, eyes flicking between Steve and his nephew.

Something in the middle of Steve's chest tugs, painful but good, like rubbing out a sore muscle or itching at a sunburn.

"I wouldn't let him," Steve offers, end of his mouth twitching up into a soft smile.

"I knew I could trust you," Eddie grins, dimples on full display, cheeks already going red from the winter Indiana air.

Wayne waves a hand, feigning frustration, scoffing. "You both act like I'm a sneeze away from the grave. I'm goin' inside."

He storms away, but Steve knew he wasn't actually upset. His shoulders were shaking in silent laughter as he trudged toward the trailer's front door.

The door slams, and Steve feels Eddie's hand just barely grace his own. They stood a respectable distance apart. Steve's hand tingles from the featherlight touch, and his stomach flutters, watching Eddie look over his shoulder at the lights.

"Thanks for helping him," Eddie whispers, eyes bright and full of pure happiness. "He makes me so damn nervous on that stupid ladder."

Steve nods and a gust of wind makes him shiver, cutting right through him. It was damn cold out, and yet he hadn't noticed.

"Come inside, bug," Eddie gives his hand a quick squeeze. "It's gonna start to snow."

Steve looks up, and almost serendipitously a frozen flake hits his nose.

"Oh," He whispers, wiping his forehead.

Eddie giggles, "C'mon, baby. I was gonna make us some cocoa." He pats Steve's arm gently, nodding towards the trailer.

"I even bought a real gallon of milk for it! No powdered shit."

There's that feeling again, like cracking your knuckles or ripping off a bandaid.

The most important present Eddie will get this year is you spending Christmas with us.

Steve sighs, feeling another flake hit his ear, then another, and then another. He looks at the lights he just spent the better part of the last couple hours hanging, a few of them didn't light up fully, blinking dull and slow.

"Coming," He says, feeling the frozen leaves and grass crumbling under his steps. Eddie's holding the door open for him, grinning ear to ear at him like he was the one who put the angel at the top of the tree.

He picks up his pace, knocking his hip against Eddie's as he shuffles through the door of the Munson's trailer.

You are what makes Christmas special for him.

"I love you," Steve breathes, quiet and hesitant, as soon as the front door closes.

It feels weird, the warm lighting, the smell of hot cocoa on the stove, the Frank Sinatra Christmas album playing in the background.

Sunburns heal. Sore muscles get stretched out. Ripping a bandaid off only hurts for a second, and sometimes you have to crack your knuckles, so your fingers will feel better.

"I love you too, sweetheart," Eddie responds easily, without obligation.

For the first Christmas ever, Eddie had Steve. For the first Christmas ever, Steve was without obligation.

[cetaitlaverite]

Anything to Anywhere

Masters of the Air - John Egan x OC

masterlist is here hope you guys are having the most wonderful christmas if you celebrate, and simply an incredible end to the year if you don't. love youuuu <3

29. A Future Like That

The sun today was warm. Summer was coming. Stella closed her eyes into the light and smiled as she embraced the heat burning in her cheeks.

Even with her eyes closed she could feel John’s eyes on her profile. Her smile widened as she sensed his kiss before he placed it on her temple and then, immediately after, on her cheek.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered against her skin, letting her feel the smile in his words, before he kissed her cheek again.

With a quiet laugh, Stella peeled open her eyes and turned to him, shifting slightly closer on the step they were sitting on. If anyone came out of the barracks right now the two of them would be very much in the way, but everyone else was much too engrossed in their letters.

Stella and John didn’t receive letters.

Today, they didn’t really mind.

John’s face was closer than Stella had anticipated. As she turned her head their noses knocked together. She laughed again when he took the opportunity to nuzzle into her, rubbing the tip of his nose up and down the bridge of hers.

She loved his particular brand of affection. She had known it for less than twelve hours and already she couldn’t imagine going without it ever again. She had never felt as alive as she did with his hands on her, had never known what it was to be truly seen until he’d looked at her.

Quickly, as though she thought he was liable to back away, she dipped down and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, then giggled when he curled a hand around the back of her head while she was pulling away to pull her right back in again.

When he was thoroughly satiated, or else just conscious that it was still the middle of the day and, in spite of how the other POWs were inside, there were still guards in the towers who could see them, John let Stella sit back and watched with a tiny smile as she lowered herself to the step below and turned until she was kneeling between his legs. Resting her forearms on his thighs, she considered her crossed hands for a moment before resting her chin on top of them. “John?” she asked softly.

“Hm?” he hummed in reply, laying a hand on the back of her head and stroking her hair.

“Why doesn’t your family send you letters?”

John was quiet as he considered his answer but his hand kept stroking her hair.

Like a happy cat lying in a pool of sunlight by a window, Stella let her eyes fall shut and smiled as she let his gentle touch relax her.

“Me and my family,” John began after a while, “we’re, uh, not all that close anymore.”

“Why?” Stella wondered.

“My sisters are married and I guess my ma wanted me to settle down, too, and I didn’t.” He smiled wryly to himself as he looked down at the girl in his lap. If only Ma could see me now. “She didn’t like my drinking and she didn’t like me signing up to go be a pilot, either. I didn’t leave on the best of terms.”

Stella hummed her acknowledgement of this. “That doesn’t seem like a very good reason not to write you letters,” she pointed out. “Do they know you’re here?”

“They do,” he confirmed, though he declined to elaborate on how he knew that they knew. His hand just kept on stroking her hair.

“I’d write you letters,” Stella said idly, “if I wasn’t stuck here too.” She laughed softly as she recalled her early days at Tempsford. “I did write you letters, in fact. I just didn’t know where to send them.”

“Oh yeah?” John asked softly. She could hear his smile. “What’d they say?”

Smiling bashfully, Stella turned her face and nuzzled her cheek into his thigh. “Silly things,” she said. “I talked about my new job and my new friends and how much I missed you. And how I was scared that I’d never see you again.”

John considered this, smiling down at her even though she couldn’t see him. “I wish I could’ve read them,” he said quietly.

Ruefully, Stella smiled. “They still exist. They’re in my footlocker in my old bunk. Maybe one day, if I ever get my footlocker back, I’ll let you read them.”

“Yeah?” John asked.

“Yeah,” Stella confirmed. “If you’re good.”

John laughed.

Stella grinned.

“I don’t think my family would write me letters if they knew where I was, either,” she added after a beat. “But you’d write to me, wouldn’t you?”

“I did write to you,” he reminded her. “God knows who’s back at Thorpe Abbotts reading my love letters to you.”

Stella laughed, sitting up straight and peeling open her eyes to look at him. “Alice and Jessop, probably,” she said. “I hope they weren’t too scandalous.”

“Just some pictures of me in my underwear,” he replied casually.

“I bet Jessop enjoyed those,” Stella said.

John snorted, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger.

Stella grinned, tilting her face towards it.

“Where will home be for you after the war, do you think?” she wondered.

“Wherever home is for you,” he answered her without missing a beat.

Laughing, Stella rolled her eyes. “You’re such a flirt.”

“I’ll stop if you tell me to.”

“I would never tell you to.”

Now it was John who was grinning.

“Anyway,” she went on, “home for me doesn’t exist anymore, I don’t think. I’m not sure where my mum lives now, though I can’t imagine it’s the same place as when I left because I can’t see how she’d afford it without nine children bringing in money. But maybe she’s getting money from the government now that four of her sons are dead.”

“Stels,” John said softly.

“She hasn’t written to me since I left, anyway, so maybe I don’t want to go back,” Stella barrelled on mindlessly. “I think I want to go somewhere where I’m wanted instead.”

“Come home with me,” John said readily.

Stella quirked a brow at him. “Your family isn’t writing to you either.”

John rolled his eyes. “We’ll visit Wisconsin,” he explained, “and I’ll go apologise to my Ma and I’ll introduce you, and then we’ll go somewhere else. We’ll make a new home somewhere.”

“Where?” Stella asked, resting her chin back on her arms, gazing up at him from beneath her lashes.

“Wherever you want,” John replied, smiling adoringly down at her.

Stella smiled. “I’ve never been to America,” she pointed out. “You’re the expert.”

“City or country?” John inquired.

“City.” After spending so long stuck in prisons where she felt like the world was as small as a teacup, she longed to be thrown out into the world and reminded that it could be big, that it was big, that it was filled with millions of souls with lives and purposes of their own.

“That narrows it down,” John said, nodding. “How about New York?”

“That’s where the Yankees play, no?”

John’s answering smile was wide and lovestruck.

Stella laughed. “I listen when you talk, too, you know.”

“So New York?” John asked.

“New York,” Stella confirmed. She considered the prospect and, after a moment, added, “On the outskirts, maybe, so that during the day we can go into the city but at night we can see the stars.”

“Sounds perfect,” John declared.

Smiling, Stella rubbed her cheek against his thigh. “Will we get a dog?” she wondered at length.

“If you want.”

“I think maybe.” She set her gaze past the fence and into the expanse of nothingness beyond. “I wanted one when I was little.”

“Then we’ll get a dog.”

“A rescue,” Stella decided. “A dog no one else wants. Maybe one that’s been mistreated.” Slowly, her eyes lifted and sought John’s and found them already waiting for her. She smiled shyly. “Unwanted, mistreated dogs deserve homes, too,” she said softly.

His hand migrated from her hair to her cheek, cupping it delicately, rubbing his thumb over it. “A rescue dog,” he confirmed, equally as soft.

“The ugliest one we can find,” Stella went on.

John chuckled quietly. “What’ll we name him?”

“I’m bad with names. You decide.”

“I think we’ll have to wait to meet him before we give him a name,” John replied at length. “I think we’ll know when we see him.”

“Right,” she agreed. “Just as well as we’ll know he’s ours, we’ll know what his name is.”

“Right,” John confirmed in return.

“Maybe we can live close to an airfield,” Stella continued daydreaming, “so we can both still fly.”

“I’ll get a job there, maybe,” John added.

Stella smiled. “Maybe I will too.”

“I’ll take you out on dates every weekend,” John declared.

Laughing, Stella inquired, “Where to?”

“Lots of places. Bars and restaurants and baseball games and - and the zoo, so we can go meet some penguins.”

“That’ll be our dog’s name,” Stella decided, sitting up straight and grinning at him. “Penguin. The first thing we ever connected over.” When John had listened to her talk about birds and had asked about penguins, it was the first time she’d looked at him and really seen him, she felt. The first time anyone had looked at her and really seen her.

John’s smile was so wide his whole face was sharing in its joy, his eyes crinkling until they were almost closed, his eyebrows tilting upwards. “Penguin the dog,” he said. “What if he’s not black and white?”

Stella shrugged. “Who cares? He’s our dog.”

John laughed loudly. “You’re right,” he conceded. “You’re right. He’s our dog.” Leaning down as far as he could without folding himself completely in half on the stairs, he pressed a gentle kiss to Stella’s forehead and was still smiling when he withdrew. “I love him already,” he said, dipping to meet her eyes.

Stella already had her gaze fixed on him, wide and infatuated. “Me too,” she agreed.

When men started pouring out of the barracks to soak up the morning sunshine, Stella and John returned inside. Already, the evidence of recently read letters was clear in the additions to the room decor - new photographs had been pinned up beside beds, assorted gifts had been laid out on the table, and the telltale signs of letters from lovers were visible only in the edges of paper peeking out from beneath pillows.

It made Stella’s chest ache to think of John spending so many months here, having to sit and watch everyone else receive letters and pictures and gifts, knowing there was none coming for him. It wasn’t her fault that she hadn’t ever received his letters, no, but it made her sad all the same.

So, later that evening, while most of the men were playing some approximation of poker they’d invented over the last few months that Stella didn’t care to learn, she asked Crank, who wasn’t playing, if he would accompany her to the bathroom. And, when they were out in the hallway, she asked him to lead her to the recreation hall instead.

His face paled at being incriminated in a plan being kept deliberately secret from John.

Stella couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s only a secret because I want to make something for him,” she assured him quietly. “Something to hang beside our bed.” She did her best impression of puppy eyes as she appealed to him, “Please?”

Not ten minutes later, she found herself surrounded by unfamiliar men who took one look at her and looked immediately away, and subsequently pretended she wasn’t there.

Crank, to his credit, did his very best to look big and scary as he accompanied her over to a table strewn with paper and pencils, evidently for letter-writing purposes.

The table was empty but Crank tried to glower at the room anyway while he and Stella sat at it. He was doing his best to imitate John, Stella knew, and she tried valiantly to suppress her laughter and instead focus on what she was doing.

Twenty minutes later, she picked up her paper and turned it around to show Crank, asking, “What do you think?”

Crank looked between her and the paper like she’d just asked him to punch her in the face.

Stella huffed. “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“No!” Crank hurried to exclaim. “No, it’s - it’s wonderful. He’s gonna love it.” He looked hard at her artwork and, try as he might, couldn’t seem to stop squinting. “It’s - what is it?”

“It’s me and John!” Stella exclaimed, laying the paper down on the table and starting to point out what she’d drawn. “Well, it’s us in the future. That’s me there and that’s John, and by our feet is our dog that we’re going to have - a rescue dog, of course. And behind us is our house and over here is the Statue of Liberty, because we’re going to live in New York.”

Crank raised his eyebrow, glancing between Stella and her drawing. “The Statue of Liberty is a woman,” he said.

Stella frowned. “What?”

Suddenly, Crank was laughing. “You’ve never seen the Statue of Liberty?”

“I’m British!”

“Not even in pictures?”

“No.”

Still, Crank was chuckling. “Why’d you think it was a man?”

“I don’t know!” Stella exclaimed.

“It’s a woman with a crown and a torch,” Crank informed her. “We call her Lady Liberty!”

“I didn’t know that!” Stella insisted.

Crank was cackling. “Oh, Bucky is gonna love this.”

“Shut up,” Stella snapped, snatching her drawing off the table. “Don’t tell him anything. This was a stupid idea.”

Instantly, Crank changed his tune, sobering up like he’d just had a bucket of ice water poured over his head. “No, hey, wait, I didn’t mean -”

“Tell him anything and you’re dead,” Stella snarled.

“Hey, no, come on,” Crank insisted, sitting forward. Try as Stella might to intimidate, he wasn’t scared of her. Now that he knew her, he knew that being scared of Stella was like being scared of a puppy. “It’s sweet,” he went on, forcing himself to hide his smile. “Stella, he’ll love it, I swear. You gotta give it to him.”

“Everyone will make fun of me,” Stella complained.

Crank smiled. He kept hold of her eyes even as he tentatively reached out and pried the drawing out of her hands. “No,” he assured her, “they won’t.” He laid the paper down on the table and picked up a stray pencil. “May I?”

With palpable suspicion, Stella nodded.

With a light hand, in case she wanted to erase his edits later, Crank started working to make her terribly inaccurate drawing of the Statue of Liberty as accurate to the real version as he could. He added the raised arm and the lit torch, added the crown amongst the hair she’d already drawn, and fashioned the clothes she’d drawn into the robes the real Lady Liberty wore.

“There,” he declared once he was finished. “What do you think?”

Stella took her time surveying these additions but after a while she nodded. “That’s what she looks like?” she asked, meeting Crank’s eyes. “The Statue of Liberty?”

Shrugging, Crank peered back down at the drawing with her. “More or less.”

“Is there anything wrong with the rest of it?” Stella inquired next.

As he stared down at the drawing she’d done, created with all the artistic technique of a toddler but with all the same passion, too, he was struck, for a moment, by this new version of Stella he’d met over the last few weeks. He had only known her in passing back at Thorpe Abbotts and largely only because everyone had marvelled at how Major Egan was in love with the aloof, standoffish ATA pilot who was equally as likely to bite as she was to roll over and welcome affection. Back then, he’d acknowledged her beauty but otherwise found the whole thing a little bit absurd; Bucky had no shortage of women lining up to be on his arm, so what did he see in this one who was always either shouting at him or else rejecting his every advance?

Now, he thought he knew. They were kindred spirits, Stella and Bucky, and there was no denying it. Both of them stray dogs in their own rights, both of them lonely and a little bit sad and desperately trying to hide it. Both of them hard on the outside and soft on the inside. Both of them floating around, searching for another soul to stick to. It was easy to see, looking at her now, why they’d chosen to stick to each other.

“It’s perfect,” Crank assured her at long last. It would have been perfect before, too, he realised now. Bucky was going to love it because she had done it - even more, because she had done it for him. Because she didn’t want him to be the only man in their bunk who didn’t have pictures to stick up on the wall next to his bed anymore. Because she wanted him to know he was loved.

It was with all the air of a bashful child that Stella trailed Crank back to the bunk a short while later. The whole walk back she tried to come up with reasons not to give the drawing to John - “It’s bad and it’s stupid and it’s childish. He’s going to think I’m a child. Such a stupid idea. Why did you even let me go through with it?” - and in the end Crank took the drawing out of her hands.

“You don’t wanna give it to him?” he asked, exhausted, as they stood outside the door.

Stella’s shoulders slumped with relief at the way out he was giving her. “No.”

“Then I will,” he said, and promptly turned and pushed into the room. “Bucky,” he called as he entered.

“Crank!” Stella complained, shutting the door loudly behind her.

“Stella made something for you,” he went on, heedless of her protest.

“You’re such a snitch!” Stella accused, rushing up behind him and reaching for the drawing.

“What is it?” John asked, already on his feet, already grinning.

“It’s nothing,” Stella said. “It was a stupid idea. Crank, give me it!”

Crank only laughed as he batted Stella’s hands away and passed the drawing to John.

Stella stopped fighting when she saw it was too late and John was already looking at it. Her cheeks were in flames as she shot an accusatory glare at Crank and then at the men at the table, all of them looking up at the exchange. “Mind your own business,” she told them, then stomped off to her bed to sulk.

For the next couple of minutes she wouldn’t stop fidgeting, her ears burning every time she glanced up and caught an accidental glimpse of John staring down at her silly, childish drawing. But she went still when he came to sit next to her on the bed, turning her face indignantly to the window.

“Stels,” John said softly.

Stella frowned without turning to look at him. “What?”

“You drew this for me?” he asked, speaking quietly so the others would know not to listen.

Again, her whole face was on fire with the intensity of her blush. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s us,” John corrected. “Right? Us once we get out of here, when we live in New York.”

Stella hesitated as she considered her response. After a moment, she sighed and abruptly turned to face him on the bed. “I didn’t like that you were the only man in here who didn’t have any pictures to put up on the wall,” she said in a hurry. “That’s all.”

Inexplicably, John was smiling at her. Reaching out a hand to her face, he tenderly pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “It’s beautiful, Stels,” he told her earnestly. “Thank you.”

Ducking her gaze, Stella hemmed and hawed. “It’s silly,” she mumbled.

“It’s perfect,” he corrected. “I love it.”

In one fell swoop, Stella sighed out all of her breath and collapsed forward to lean all of her weight into him, tucking her face into his neck. “You don’t think it’s childish?” she fretted, her voice muffled into his skin.

John’s smile was audible. “No,” he replied easily, “I think it’s cute.”

“It’s not cute,” Stella objected, “it’s impressionist.” She didn’t really know what that meant, didn’t actually know who the impressionists were, but she’d heard Lucky talking about them once and thought it sounded funny.

It made John laugh all the same.

“Alright, Monet,” he said, chuckling, turning his face to press a kiss into her hair. “You gonna help me pin it up or what?”

Stella scoffed. “I do the drawing and now you want me to put it up, too? What am I, your personal assistant?”

“You’re my Stels,” John answered with a grin.

With a tiny, quiet laugh, Stella sat up.

Immediately, John cupped her cheeks and kissed her forehead. Then he leaned sideways and laid the drawing against the wall beside them, shifting it up and down and left and right as he decided where to place it. “Here?” he asked eventually when he had it poised somewhere in the middle.

“Wherever you want,” Stella told him. “It’s your drawing.”

John grinned and left the bed to go and find some leftover pins, returning once he’d found four.

Stella sat back and watched idly as he carefully pinned her drawing to the wall, her heart aching at the tenderness with which he smoothed down the paper. It was such a stupid drawing and yet he was touching it like it was priceless.

She had to look away.

This future she’d drawn for them, the one they’d talked about - she wanted it so badly she could hardly bear it. She hoped so desperately that one day it would be hers. A house on the outskirts of New York, a rescue dog, and John. Was it too bold to dare to imagine she deserved a future like that?

[stellar-constellations]

(Very late) Christmas special! Yuri Briar

Yuri Briar x Fem! Reader

        Beware! This fic DOES contain SPOILERS for the manga and for the Yuri Briar x Fem! Spy! Reader series: An Alliance (part 1)!

        This can be read with or without reading my Yuri Briar x Fem! Spy! Reader series: An Alliance (part 1).

        Series information: Setting is AFTER the reader rejoined WISE (so Yuri and [Y/N] are married and [Y/N] becomes an official double-spy).

        This is NOT a replacement or part 10 for the Yuri Briar x Fem! Spy! Reader series!

        The city air smelt like hot chocolate and roasted chestnuts. The town’s street lamps were decorated with yellow christmas lights and green wreaths. Children squished their faces against the cold windows of toy stores, gazing at what they want on their Christmas lists. Candies filled with marshmallows and peppermint advertised at the local grocery store. Yuri and I strolled through the town hand-in-hand, looking for gifts for the Forger family.

        “Do you have any idea what they’d want for Christmas?” I questioned, looking into store windows for anything that caught my eye.

        “I’m not sure. Yor said that she was fine with anything.” Yuri spoke, just as lost as me. 

        “Well what about Loid and Anya?” I asked, turning my head to look at Yuri.

        “Do we have to buy them gifts?” Yuri grimaced. 

        “They’re family.” I huffed. “Don’t be mean. And don’t even think about going to the Christmas party with an attitude to Loid. I’ll whack you.” I threatened.

        “I don’t even know what we’d give Loid. He’s so… reserved?” Yuri spoke. “He doesn’t talk much about himself other than work.” 

        “I see what you mean.” I hummed. “So work is obviously an important thing in his life.”

        “His main priority should be caring for Yor…” Yuri huffed.

        “We can talk about this later. The shops will close early because it's Christmas Eve, so we have no time to be complaining about stuff like that.” I pointed out. "Loid values work, we could get him something for work. Like, maybe a new journal to write notes? He is a psychiatrist after all.” I suggested.

        At least his public cover is. I thought to myself. 

        I tried to think more deeply on what Twilight likes without accidentally revealing to Yuri that I know him more than just his sister's husband. Of course I know things about him that Yuri and Yor won't, I did basically grow up with him almost my entire life, so I consider him like a brother and my best friend. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I basically knew nothing of Twilight's interests or hobbies. He's always been so work-oriented compared to my laid-back nature. 

        My realization led me to questioning everything I knew about Twilight. Is the personality I've associated with him almost my whole life a cover personality? Am I such a bad sister and best friend that I don't even know his favorite damn color? What he likes to do in his free time? 

        While I had an internal existential crisis, Yuri dragged me out of my thoughts. 

        "Hey, there's a bookstore over there. We can go find Loid's journal there?" Yuri suggested, pointing his finger at a small bookstore.

        "Yeah, okay." I nodded, dragging Yuri into the store with me. "Along with a journal, we can get Loid a book too. I'm just unsure of what types of books he'd enjoy." 

        "We have to get him more than one gift?" Yuri sighed, obviously displeased at the idea. 

        "Just wait till we get to Anya." I hummed. "She's a child, so she should get the most presents." 

        "When I was a kid, I didn't celebrate Christmas." Yuri pointed out.

        I did. Growing up as a West spy, the Handler would put time aside and host a Christmas party at HQ. She made sure to give small gifts to all spies (most likely to avoid promotions). Since I was a kid and the youngest on the team, she made sure my gifts were a little more special than my fellow spies. I remember the first year I joined WISE, she gifted me a warm sweater with comfortable short fur inside and the exterior was soft and gray, along with a raspberry candy cane. I cried so hard that day because I was so touched she bothered getting me something despite our relationship being something of a teacher and student. Now a days, I see her more of the closest thing I have to a mother in my life, and I make sure to give her a present every year too. 

        Speaking of the Handler, I need to find a gift for her too. I might be able to sneak out later and buy something while Yuri is sleeping. I thought to myself. 

        "Maybe a book on psychology?" Yuri questioned.

        "No. I wanna get him something for him to enjoy that's not all work-related." I spoke.

        Besides, me and him already know quite a bit of psychology as it is. I thought. 

        Maybe something like mystery? No, he'd figure out the mystery too quick. Suspense? No, he'd just get mad at the character's decisions for being stupid. Romance? Nope, he seems to have little interest in the subject. Maybe something dystopian? Eh, we've faced a war together and live under oppressed governments with the possibility of war, we have our own silent dystopian going on. Maybe something involving self-help, like how not to be robotic. It'd be a good gag gift, but like I said, I want him to enjoy it. Historical? No, we know just about everything in history.

        "Ah! Science fiction!" I exclaimed loudly. 

        "Like... robots?" Yuri questioned. 

        "I dunno, maybe. I think Loid would enjoy the genre." I spoke. 

        "How so?" Yuri questioned.

        "He's smart, he is a psychiatrist after all. He'll probably like something that's mixed with reality but still have hints of fiction in it. Smart people like smart things like science! It'd be something to get his brain working and still enjoy it." I spoke.

        "Pssh, anyone can listen to a person's problems and give out solutions." Yuri huffed.

        "That's not all they do, Yuri. They also—" I paused, deciding it wasn't worth going in depth. "Ah, never mind. Let's just find something good for him to read." 

        Me and Yuri walked to the science fiction section, looking for anything that caught our eyes. Yuri didn’t exactly do much of the searching since it included being “too buddy-buddy with Loi-Loi” so I did the searching myself.

        “Oh, what about 1984? I heard that was good.” I spoke. “I remember hearing it was featured in the newspaper, it’s relatively new, published in 1948.” 

        I might steal this after Twilight finishes reading it. I thought to myself.

        “Yeah, sure.” Yuri spoke.

        “Hm… what do you think Yor would like? I was thinking of giving her a new set of earrings as my gift. What’s on your mind?” I questioned. 

        “Well… she likes apples, specifically this Whistle Candy we had as kids, the apple flavored ones.” Yuri explained. 

        “That’s a good start. We can go to the market and buy those.” I smiled. “I want to stop by a jewelry store and buy her a set of gold earrings, I noticed her jewelry was gold so I figured she’d might appreciate it.” 

        “You noticed.” Yuri spoke, tears in his eyes.

        “Why are you tearing up?” I questioned, a little confused.

        “Just… you’re so thoughtful of her too. She loves you so much as her sister-in-law so it’d make her so happy to know you paid attention to her interests.” Yuri cried, wiping his nose.

        I resisted the urge to tell him I was observing her to make sure she wasn’t an obstacle in STRIX’s mission or a hazard to Twilight’s mental health (now that I’ve spent time with her, I’m aware she’s a wonderful person, but I was on my guard when we first met, especially knowing how hard she can hit someone). 

        “Of course I care, Yuri. She’s family to me, just like Anya and Loid are.” I smiled.

        The names of his sister’s husband and daughter leaving my lips immediately dried his eyes and made him grimace. “Blegh…”

        “Wow. I should use that more against you when you’re upset if it makes you forget what you were crying about in the first place.” I smiled, a little impressed.

        “Don’t you use those two… imbeciles... against me.” Yuri threatened, a glint in his eyes.

        “Yeah, yeah.” I hummed. “Let’s find an empty notebook now. I'm thinking something blue, or blue and white." 

        Yuri nodded as we walked together, looking around to find a journal. I've seen empty journals in bookstores before, so surely this bookstore can't be an exception. I took Yuri to the front of the bookstore where there would usually be little souvenirs or many pens. I found a plain midnight blue journal and held it up to Yuri. 

        "What do you think?" I questioned.

        "Looks like a journal." Yuri spoke.

        "Helpful." I hummed sarcastically, before opening the journal.

        I felt the texture of the pages and the cover, along with the page colors, the spacing and colors of the lines, and the sturdiness of the spine before deeming it acceptable. 

        "Okay, Yuri. Let's go pay for these then we can go for Yor's presents." I spoke. 

        Yuri nodded, grabbing my hand as we walked to the cash register together. 

        "How about you pay for Loid's and Anya's gifts, and I'll pay for Yor's? Her earrings will probably be expensive." Yuri spoke.

        "I mean, I have certain earrings I'm looking for, so I can buy them." I explained.

        "No. I got them. Loid's and Anya's gifts will probably tally up to around the earrings price." Yuri explained.

        "And you wanna buy your sister's presents yourself?" I smiled.

        "Yes." Yuri admitted quickly. 

        "Well, if you really insist." I sighed, deciding it wasn't worth fighting him. 

        When we got to the cashier, I took out my wallet from my purse and handed the cashier the amount of dalc they wanted from me. The bagged the books and handed it to me, telling us "happy holidays" as we left.

        "Okay. Let's go to the jewelry store first, then the grocery store for that whistle candy you were talking about." I hummed, rearranging the fluffy red scarf wrapped around my neck.

        Yuri nodded as I grabbed his red mitten, having him follow me. During our walk, I looked around at the shop windows to see if I could find any present for Yuri. I wasn't exactly sure what to get him; he was a pretty simple guy who'd love just about everything I'd give him, but I wanted to give him something that was actually meaningful and something he could really enjoy. The problem is Yuri doesn't have many interests besides Yor and work, so I'm really limited with potential gift ideas.

        "Why are you glaring at me like that?" Yuri questioned, confused.

        "I'm cold." I lied.

        I'm glaring at you because you're a troublesome brat to make happy. I thought.

        "Even in all those layers? We'll be at the store soon enough, so don't worry." Yuri spoke.

        I nodded, thinking of what I could get him. Maybe he likes whistle candy like Yor? But that's so boring, not to mention unoriginal since we're getting Yor it. I could get him something like a candle? But that's not long lasting, and I have no idea what his favorite scents are.         

        "Yuri, I'm thinking of changing my perfume sometime soon. What do you think I should go with?" I questioned.

        "I don't know? Something floral or citrus like most perfumes? It's your perfume." Yuri hummed.

        "Yeah, but I want your input. You're my husband so I don't want to get a scent you don't like." I explained.        

        "I doubt there's a perfume that I don't like. Just don't have it too strong?" Yuri spoke.

        Sometimes I wanna punch his stupid face for being so damn hard to shop for. Seriously, how can someone simple be such a challenge to shop for? Even Twilight is easier to shop for! 

        Yuri and I walked to the store to get the whistle candy Yuri said Yor liked. During the time, I thought of what good gifts Anya would have. I wanted to spoil the kid and give her a good Christmas. I've always wanted to be a cool aunt but now that I lost my entire family I can't do that anymore.

        No, I didn't lose my entire family, only a part of it. I still have Twilight and the Handler, and Yuri and Yor and Anya. My mother is still out there too, somewhere in this world. The thought left me feeling a little better from the other sudden intrusive depressing thought I had. 

        Anya likes peanuts and stuffed toys, I know that. She likes that one spy tv show too, whatever it was called. The episodes I watched with her are a little interesting, I might watch it myself to be honest (perhaps I can learn a thing or two I'm unaware of). I briefly thought about getting her a coat or a cute dress, but then I remembered being a kid and disliked getting clothes as gifts. She does like sweets too. 

        Oh! They have dog too! I remember Twilight telling me about that, trying to train it to attack on command. Apparently the dog is a rescue from Project Apple, where he was trained along with many other dogs to become highly intelligent military animals. I wonder if the dog is huge and scary, like a German Shepard or a Pit Bull with that kind of reputation? Hey, maybe I can convince Yuri to get a dog or a cat!

        Wait, focus. We're here for gifts. 

        "Yuri, when we get the candy let's go to the toy section next." I spoke.

        "Aren't you a bit old for toys?" Yuri smirked, earning him a glare from me.

        "Shut it." I huffed. "It's for Anya, I wanna see if there's any good toys around here she might like. I always wanna get her peanuts and stuffed animals." 

        "Peanuts?" Yuri spoke, making a face. "What kid wants peanuts for Christmas?"

        "Apparently Anya." I shrugged. "Don't question it, kids are weird and have weird Christmas lists. Besides, it's better than like, I dunno, a 20 dalc dolly or something."

        "I guess that's true." Yuri hummed, grabbing a bag of candy from the shelves.

        It was the whistle candy Yuri was talking about. It's comes in a pack of eight circular candies with a hole in the middle. Yuri grabbed two apple flavored packs, holding them in his hands since we didn't grab a cart.

        "Hey, it looks like the American candy Life Savers!" I pointed out. "This whistle candy you speak of, does it actually make you whistle?" I questioned, glancing at the candies.

        "Yeah. You can whistle through them." He nodded.

        "That's cool." I smiled.

        I took a look at all the candies, grabbing a few chocolate peanut candy bars and other candies like gummy bears, Fun Dips, marshmallow Circus Peanuts, and Jolly Ranchers before my eyes spotted a familiar and bittersweet candy—M&M's.

        "Oh hey, I remember these!" I spoke, grabbing a tube. "Hey Yuri, do you know how these were invented? Or more specifically why?"

        "Wasn't it something about the war?" Yuri questioned.

        "Yeah. During the war, normal chocolate bars couldn't be transported or eaten because it'd melt in the heat, so Ostanian soldiers couldn't eat them. Forrest Mars Sr copied the idea of Rowntree's Smarties, a British-made sweet small chocolate candies covered in hardened sugar syrup, when he saw soldiers from the Spanish Civil War eating them." I explained. "I had a buddy who would eat these like no tomorrow." I chuckled, before frowning. 

        Well, I guess he did eat them like no tomorrow, cause he's not alive anymore.

        I remember infiltrating a small town and killing a couple Ostanian soldiers. Rancher was looting the bodies to see if there was anything interesting or see if there's any extra ammo that matched his gun model. While he didn't find ammo that could be shot with his gun, he did find a small brown and tan tube with the title "M&M's" on the tube. He opened it and ate one of the small candies, then he became hooked and popped them in his mouth like a pill junkie. Sometimes, I think he killed soldiers just to see if he could find some of that candy on them. 

        Yuri noticed how my smile faded and patted my shoulder, an attempt to console me. While it didn't quite work, I was happy to know he was trying, especially considering that war was where he potentially lost his parents and started his hate for the West. He doesn't talk about them, but I can naturally assume he lost them in the war considering Yor was the one who raised him. 

        "Do you have a favorite flavor?" I questioned, breaking the silence.

        His hand left my shoulder as he thought, before speaking, "Maybe cherry?"

        I nodded, making a mental note in my head for later. 

        "Well, we got the candy. Let's head to the toy section and see what's there." I smiled, keeping the M&M's in my hand along with the other candies I grabbed.

        We both walked to the toys as I tried and figured out what toys I wanted to buy for Anya. I didn't want something lame or boring, and I didn't want to give her something too generic that every other kid has. Knowing Twilight, he probably got her stuff that's popular with the other kids along with things she liked, I wanna give her something meaningful other than snacks. 

        I noticed the toy guns and thought about getting her a toy cap gun, a small toy that made a small bang to represent a bullet and came with it's own bang roll cap refill that even made a smell, before I realized that not only would they have to purchase more paper roll caps every time it ran out, but I also didn't want to influence her with violence and guns (especially after I heard about her punching Donovan Desmond's son, Damian). I thought about those toy handcuffs, before realizing how boring they were since she couldn't really do anything with that when playing alone. Maybe snap-its? Nah, I don't want her throwing it at her parents or other kids, not to mention the hassle it is to clean them up. Maybe I can code a little morse robot for her to learn morse code (by me coding, I mean Franky). 

        I decided to ditch the entire idea of spy things in general, she's too young for such things, and I don't want her to start getting suspicious of Twilight and I's second-lives, children have an insane ability of calling out bullshit and having some damn accurate hunches. Maybe if I find pajamas or a jacket of her spy show, I'll buy it. 

        I grabbed multiple different teddy bears, a blue one (Twilight), a pink one (Anya), a red and white one (Yor), a red and black one (Yuri), a white one (their dog Bond) and a grey one (me) to represent her family. You can't do much with stuffed animals, so I grabbed other toys too such as a rainbow slinky, a Candy Land board game, silly putty, dominoes, and some coloring books.

        "Does a kid really need that much toys?" Yuri questioned.

        "Yes. Yes she does." I nodded. "This is her first Christmas with us! Christmas is a day that kids are always thinking about, she deserves a good one."

        "Well, if you think so." Yuri sighed, deciding not to fight on the matter. 

        Yuri carried most of the toys while I carried most of the candy. I noticed the struggle between us and mentally scolded ourselves for not getting a basket, it sure would've made this whole process easier.

        "Why don't we get a wagon?" I questioned. "Like a toy wagon for Anya?"

        "That's stupid. What would she use that for?" Yuri questioned.

        "Don't call it stupid without hearing what I gotta say." I huffed. "It can be used to carry her toys around the house, or when she's out and about with Loid and Yor, she can sit in the wagon as they roll her around—it's cute and convenient." I explained.

        "Sure, whatever you want." Yuri waved off.

        Yuri just doesn't understand the importance of Christmas. For an energetic and cheerful kid like Anya, Christmas probably means a lot to her. I remember when I was a little kid and still had the income, I was excited for Christmas too; Yuri probably stopped caring for Christmas when Yor started raising him instead since they would need to direct their funds to something nonessential that doesn't include food or shelter, so I can see his perspective on this matter.

        Even though he doesn't quite care about Christmas, I still want to be able to buy a gift for him, I mean, I have some festive spirit this year and I'm excited to spend Christmas in a place that's not Wise HQ with people I have genuine attachment to outside of work.  

        Me and Yuri grabbed a red toy Radio Wagon, placing all of Anya's (and Yor's) candies and toys inside of it. I also grabbed a classical music and a IIse Werner vinyl record for Loid. I thought and decided that I'll come back to the store later when searching for Yuri's gifts, that way I can get Franky and The Handler a gift too. We grabbed red and white striped wrapping paper (Yuri’s choice) and white snowflake wrapping paper (my choice, along with green and blue ribbons. We also grabbed Bond some treats, I heard he was a big dog so I got him large bones and chew toys. 

        Yuri rolled the wagon to the receptionist as I followed, paying for all the gifts and gift paper. We paid and left the store, heading to the jewelry store next. I wanted to get Yor a set of earrings. I noticed she wore gold spike-like earrings (the only set I've seen her wear really), so I wanted to get her a different pair instead, a pair where me and her match together so that the gift is meaningful. Yuri rolled the wagon down the streets as I guided him to a jewelry store, opening the door for him so he can walk in with the wagon as I advanced. 

        "Do you have a set of earrings in mind?" Yuri questioned.

        "Yep. I have a perfect vision for what I want." I nodded. 

        I spent three days going to every jewelry shop to try and find the perfect set of earrings for Yor that I actually liked and that would match her taste. It took some work and searching, but I found The Set. I lead Yuri to the jewelry shop I wanted to go to called "Himmlischer Ketten." 

        "The wagon is probably going to be troublesome inside of the shop, so you just wait outside with it, okay?" I spoke.

        Yuri looked at me with a blank face, thinking, before making a pout. 

        "But I wanna see what you're buying for Yor." He whined.

        "I'll show you after I pay for it. I'll be in and out in a flash, you'll barely know I left." I smiled. 

        Yuri sighed, his pout still relevant on his face but it had decreased, "Fine. Just hurry up."

        I nodded and walked into the store, looking around to find the set of earrings again. I found the ones I was looking for and told the jeweler, grabbing my wallet from my purse and payed for the price. I also got the second set of earrings so Yor and I could match together. She handed me the two boxes of jewelry inside, handing them to me in a small bag. I walked back out to Yuri and placed the bag of jewelry inside the wagon where the rest of the gifts were.

        "How much did it cost?" Yuri questioned.

        "One hundred dalc in total." I answered.

        Yuri reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, handing me a bit over 100 dalc.

        "Whaddya doing?" I questioned as he took my hand, placing the currency in my palm.

        "I told you earlier that I'd pay for the jewelry." He spoke. 

        "Yeah, but it's my gift to Yor." I pointed out. "Besides, I got a set for myself too."

        I can very well pay for it too since I'm working two government jobs...

        "Consider it one of your Christmas presents." He reasoned. "Besides, you spent enough at the store for Anya and Loid."

        "Wow, you actually said his real name without much thought." I chuckled, causing him to glare at me.

        "Shut up. It just came out of my mouth before I could stop it." He huffed.

        "Sure, hon." I smiled. 

        "Doesn't matter, let's get home and get these presents wrapped." He spoke quickly, changing the subject as he rushed ahead of me, dragging the wagon with him. 

        He can be such a tsundere at times... I thought. Though I guess it's a little endearing in its own stupid way. 

        I followed Yuri back to our apartment, getting home and wrapping the presents in our chosen gift papers we bought. Yuri did the wrapping while I placed bows and ribbons on the boxes since it turns out, I'm terrible at wrapping presents. I wrote the names of who the presents belonged too (most belonging to Anya, but it's still fun to write the names). 

        Yuri and I conversed as we did our own assigned roles together.    

        "You sure like going out for Christmas, huh?" He commented.

        I hummed, thinking of the comment and what to say to that. 

        Perhaps I'm making up for loss time? I don't have a family I can spoil, so I should spoil this one while it lasts. I might not live long being this double-agent, whether I get backstabbed from one of my jobs (most likely the SSS), or whether I die on a mission, or even just some sickness or such, I want to die knowing I at least meant something to someone, or die someone I can be semi-proud of. It's not like there's much I can ask for in life after all I've done, or even deserve much really. Sometimes I wonder if I should even be allowed to enjoy myself with this family, even if it'll potentially be my death. 

        Oh well, I guess it's a bridge I'll cross (or jump off) when the time comes.

        "I like Christmas. I like the pretty lights, the snow, and buying presents for people I care about." I spoke, deciding to go for a simple answer.

        It's not technically a lie or anything, so I'll go with it. 

        Yuri nodded, cutting wrapping paper for one of Anya's stuffed animals to wrap with. "Well, I think it's kinda endearing. You seem very excited when you were choosing the gifts, and I could tell that you were putting much thought into it."

        I blinked, surprised at his sudden adoring words.

        "Are you tryna get something outta me? Like a hint for your gift or a kiss?" I joked teasingly, choosing to ignore how my heartbeat sped up at his words. 

        "I don't got any ulterior motives. I was just pointing out an observation of mine." He huffed, his face turning red. 

        "Well, thanks." I chuckled. "I guess I just like Christmas so much since I didn't really experience much of it as a kid." 

        That's true, even when I still had my parents, Christmas wasn't much except a few toys and candy. Buying presents for five kids a lower-class town like Luwen, it was hard to find money to spoil my siblings and I with when we had to pay for necessities like food or water. 

        "Well, you can experience it more now." Yuri smiled. "Besides, Chihuahua Girl will probably appreciate the gifts, even if she is spoiled enough just being in Yor's presence." He huffed, envious of his niece's everyday life.

        "You're weird." I sighed, placing a blue bow on one of the white snowflake-wrapped gifts. "But I guess that's kinda my fault for agreeing to marry you." I chuckled, writing Anya's name onto the present. 

        "I'm not that bad." He huffed. "I think I'm a pretty good husband."

        "Whatever floats your boat." I teased, causing him to send a pouting glare at me. "I'm just messing with you, honey." I laughed. 

        "I know that." He lied defensively. 

        "Sure." I hummed. "Let's finish this up so that we can make some desserts for tomorrow. I don't want Loid and Yor to do all the cooking."

        He nodded, agreeing. "Yeah, I'm ready to get all this done and go to bed so we can see Yor." He smiled.

        "And Loid and Anya." I added.

        "Ugh..." He groaned, his face contorting into disgust. "Yeah... those two."

        We continued finishing up wrapping the gifts until we finally finished, heading to the kitchen and preparing sweets and appetizers together. When we finished, we put them in containers and aluminum foil, calling it a night. While Yuri slept, I carefully snuck out of bed and changed clothes, sneaking out of the apartment to go get gifts for Franky and the Handler. I got the Handler red camellias and dutch chocolates with a red envelope that has a thank you card and 100 dalc. I got Franky the same thing too, except I gave him an extra 100 dalc so he could have extra money for his inventions. 

        Speaking of Franky's inventions, I decided to go to Franky's place to give him his gifts (and get a favor out of him). After spending the whole day with Yuri and trying to figure out what to get him for Christmas, I finally came up with the perfect gift idea. I walked to Franky's apartment and knocked on his door, waiting a minute or two before he opened the door. 

        Franky looked surprisingly awake for it being two in the morning. 

        "Oh? I didn't expect you to be awake." I spoke, a bit surprised.

        "I'm working on some new inventions. Did you need something?" Franky questioned.

        "Actually, I have something for you..." I spoke, handing him yellow roses. 

        "Oh? Really? Thanks!" he smiled, accepting the bouquet. "What's the occasion?"

        "Merry Christmas." I cheered. "Did you forget or something?"

        His face paled as he turned his attention to the calendar on his wall. "It's Christmas Eve already?!" he exclaimed.

        "What?! You didn't know?!" I shouted back, surprised. "How long have you been cooped up here working your ass off?!"

        "I don't know?! Maybe the 14th? Or... or like the end of November?" He spoke, his brain looked to be scrambled.

        "Sheesh man, take a break from work." I suggested (more so demanded). 

        "Yeah... Good idea..." He sighed. "Uh, you wanna come in?"

        "Yeah, I got a favor to ask anyways." I accepted as Franky opened his door wider, allowing me to slip in.

        "Just don't mind the mess." He spoke, having no embarrassment.

        It's not the first time I've seen his place like this. I've known him since the war, and we rekindled when I joined WISE, so I've seen him in this pitiful state many times. A good inventor is always has a scrambled brain (or workspace). 

        "So, what's the favor? Do you need me to get intel or something?" he questioned, sitting down on his blueprint map-scattered couch.

        "I actually need help learning something." I spoke. "You know how to weld, right?" 

        "Of course I do. I've invented all sorts of powerful and useful machines and inventions." He smiled pridefully, glad to boast. 

        "Can you teach me how to weld? I wanna make something for my husband for Christmas, and I wanna do it myself so that it's more meaningful." I explained.

        "Huh... So Twilight was lying when he said you and Briar's marriage was fake?" Franky commented.         

        "Oh..." I paused, thinking.

        Well, shit. I kinda completely forgot about that.

        "Well... we got recently engaged, however it's best not to tell Twilight. You know how he is, 'don't form attachments' and yada yada." I spoke quickly.

        "Yeah, that's Twilight there." He spoke, before smirking pridefully. "Once again, you and Twilight come to me for help, pleading for my assistance."

        "Dude, don't start it." I sighed. "I don't got time for this. I gotta get this done in at least six hours, so I need you to help me get it done as quickly and as perfect as possible." 

        "Six hours?!" he spluttered. "How do you believe that I can teach you all about welding in six hours?!"

        "Don't teach me everything! Just what I need to know to get this done!" I retorted.        

        "Fine. Fine. Let's hurry up, I wanna get back to my inventions as fast as possible." He sighed. "Do you have an idea on what you're trying to make?"

        "I got the perfect thing." I nodded.

        Franky helped me create the perfect gift I had in mind. Surprisingly, it ended with not much cuts or burns, so I feel happy about that. I only needed three band-aids for my fingers! I gave Franky an extra 200 dalc for all the trouble. In total he's received 400 dalc from me for Christmas, so I don't ever want him to complain about helping me again. I also convinced Franky to give my gifts to the Handler since I wasn't going to WISE's HQ anytime soon (and I didn't want to be stuck giving an update on what's going on with the SSS. I want to enjoy the holidays, not think about work). 

        I made it back home to Yuri and I's apartment, deciding to ditch sleep since Yuri will be awaking soon; I don't want him to know I snuck out while he was sleeping and if I sleep now then I certainly won't wake up in time for the Christmas party. I changed back into my pajamas so that it looked like I never went anywhere, and I used some light makeup to hide the evidence of no sleep under my eyes. I decided to get started on breakfast since I wouldn't be sleeping, making apple pancakes, sausage, and coffee.

        Yuri came out of our room in his pajamas and bedhead, looking a bit tired but refreshed (compared to how I currently feel). 

        "Morning." He yawned.

        "Morning, hon." I smiled, placing breakfast on the table. "How'd you sleep?"

        "Slept good, though it felt a little cold last night..." He spoke. "Must be cause of the winter weather."

        "Yeah, I thought the same thing too." I agreed, ignoring the fact he was so in tune with my body heat that he subconsciously knew I was missing during his slumber.

        "What are you doing up so early? It's unlike you to be awake in the morning." Yuri questioned, taking his seat at the dinner table. 

        "I was so excited for the Christmas party, I couldn't sleep." I lied, taking my own seat at the table. 

        Yuri and I ate our breakfast, Yuri doing the dishes afterwards since I cooked. To pass the time, we did our own things such as reading and watching TV in the living room together, waiting until it was time to get ready and leave. 

        When it was time to leave, I changed out of my pajamas and grabbed a grey coat and red scarf to protect myself against the cold. Yuri and I grabbed the sweets and appetizers we made together yesterday; pfannkuchen, bethmännchen, and bratkartoffeln. 

        Yuri and I walked to the apartment, Yuri dragging Anya's wagon filled with all the gifts while I carried all the food, my gift for Yuri inside of my purse. We made it to the apartment and I watched Yuri struggle to find a good angle to pick up the wagon and carry it up the steps (no, I didn't help him, I wanted him to suffer a little since it was so hard trying to find the perfect Christmas gift for him). When we got to the Forger's front door, Yuri knocked for us, being greeted by Twilight and Yor. 

        "Yuri! (Y/N)! Welcome back! Always good to see you!" Yor greeted, a big smile on her face.

        "Hi-ya, sis!" Yuri cheered. 

        "Thank you for coming. Come in." Twilight spoke, opening the door further, causing Yuri to glare at him once he realized Twilight was present. 

        I placed the food down on the table as Yuri placed the wagon near the Christmas tree in the living room. Anya was sitting on the ground near the TV watching her spy cartoon while the Forger's dog laid next to her. 

        "Hi, buddy." I smiled, crouching down and slowly placing my hand near his nose so he could sniff me. "You're a good boy, huh?" I spoke, petting his head as he let out a 'borf!' "Hi, Anya." I greeted, sitting down on the couch as Yuri took a seat next to me.

        "Hi, Auntie." Anya spoke, keeping her eyes on the TV screen. 

        Yuri looked disinterested in the show while I stared at it every now and then. Yor joined us on the couch and talked with us as Twilight was in the kitchen cooking, jumping into the conversation easily whenever he pleased. After an hour, all the food was done and ready, allowing us to eat Christmas dinner together and converse with each other. Twilight and Yuri talked about business together (Yuri sending him his infamous glares) while Yor and I talked with Anya about her cartoons and how school was for her. 

        We finally got to presents and watched Anya open her gifts, each one she unwrapped having a big smile on her face and her voice getting to loud enough volumes to potentially disturb other residents.

        Yuri and I gave Twilight his gifts. He seemed appreciative of them, mentioning how he'd put them to good use. Twilight gave me a book and Yuri an expensive bottle of wine (to repay him for the expensive wine Yuri bought the first time we came over). 

        I gave Yor the set of earrings I picked out, a set of golden suns, and showed her the golden moons I bought and told her the symbolism of us matching and being sisters now. It was enough to make her cry and earn one of her death hugs. I'm almost 99% positive that she would've broken my rib if Twilight didn't calmly tell her to not squeeze so hard. Yuri also gave her the apple whistle candy along with some other gifts he bought her. In return, she gave me a fruity perfume and Yuri a comfortable sweater.

        Anya was happy about all of her toys and candies, excited and hyper about it all. It was like it was her first time celebrating Christmas. Even Bond was happy, showing his joy by jumping up and down with Anya and barking (borfing). Bond seems like a surprisingly emotionally intelligent dog, though I supposed that's probably expecting considering it's Twilight (and because Twilight got him from the Project Apple situation).

        We all stayed and talked more before it was time for Yuri and I to go home, considering how late it was getting. Yuri and I walked back home, getting to our apartment before I gave him his gift.

        "I got you something. I made it myself." I spoke, reaching into my purse and handing him a small wrapped up box. 

        Yuri opened it, revealing a small square card, made out of pure silver (just like our wedding rings) and a small poem on the card 

Your eyes shine like the twinkle of mars, How I wish to claim and explore every part of you as if you were a new constellation. Your lips are like warm pillows, How I wish to forever rest my own against yours. Your voice could never compare to the delicate silk of Asia, the waves of the Pacific, or the luminous of the Aurora Borealis. How you make me lose my voice to utter sweet delicacies in your ears, so let me express it to you in another way: I love you, Yuri Briar...                                                                                    - Love, (Y/N) Briar

        "I just found a stupid poem for you..." I muttered, suddenly feeling a little flustered for how stupid and cheesy the writing sounds now. 

        "You liar." He smirked, a noticeable fondness in his eyes. "Thank you. You said you made it yourself?"

        "Yeah." I nodded. "It took some time, but I made it from scratch. I welded the silver together and welded the words... Of course words from a poem in a book." I coughed the last part out. 

        "You don't gotta be shy~" He teased.

        "Whatever..." I chuckled. "But I figured I'd get you something you can always have with you. You can put it in your wallet or pocket or something."

        "Thank you. Really." Yuri smiled, grabbing his wallet and placing it inside gently. "You really beat me this year in presents." He chuckled. "I kept tryna think for a while what I should get you, you're surprisingly difficult to shop for even though you're so expressive."

        "I'm a little eccentric." I smirked.        

        "That's an understatement." He smiled. "But, here." 

        He walked to our room and I heard him rummaging through drawers, before walking out with a large heart-shaped chocolate box, candies I enjoy, some books he noticed I've been eyeing over the months, and some fake flowers. 

        "it's definitely not anything compared to what you got me." He spoke.

        "Nonsense." I smiled. "I love all of it. I really do." 

        "Yeah, I knew how much you liked sweets and books." He reasoned. "And I figured it must be a bit annoying replacing the flower bouquets whenever they die, so I decided to get some fake flowers, to make it easier to tend to, and to show permanency in our relationship since we're married."

        "How romantic~" I teased. "Thank you, Hon."                

        "Merry Christmas, darling." He smiled. 

        "Merry Christmas, love." I hummed, kissing his cheek.

        "You know, you didn't have to get me anything. You're the best gift for me, (Y/N)!" He spoke, a light blush dusting his face. 

        "Yuri please, never say such sappy words again." I sighed. 

        I apologize sincerely for the huge delay! I had a hard time trying to figure out what I want, and I got busy indulging myself in reading about German foods and such, and I had little time to write due to work so the only time I had to write was when I was supposed to be sleeping or relaxing, but I finally got this done! Better late than never!

        I honestly do feel a little silly writing that poem since it's my first time ever writing poetry/a love note, so I do hope it wasn't too bad or cringy!

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