#Christmas One-Shot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

avaf00rd · 5 months

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Australian kinda Christmas

Leah Williamson x Arnold!Reader

ava what is that shitty header photo job…

tumblr fucked up its quality

anyways I’ve been thinking about writing this one for ages now

enjoy <3

——————————

“c��mon love” you groaned at your 10th attempt to get your girlfriend up from your Power Nap. You pair were already late as it is “don’t you wanna shower before you can’t for a whole 24 hours?” You asked, her head still buried in the pillows. She stayed like that, contemplating for another second before getting up and heading to the bathroom “don’t be long” you said before tapping her ass just as she opened the bathroom door.

You got a text from your sister Mackenzie telling you that she was already at her lay over flight and would be boarding again in an hour. This year you pair didn’t get the same flight over for the Christmas break. But it was the first year you would both be bringing your girlfriends with you.

You and leah had been together 4 years now. The second year you spent Christmas with Leah’s family, last year you and mac both went with your parents overseas for Christmas. And this year you would both be bring Leah and Kirsty.

Some how an hour and a half later you were just passing security only just and were going to get some small snacks for the plane. Leah, with the food palate of a 6 year old. Got some watermelon gummies “they help with feeling sick on the plane” she tried to convince you as you glanced over the packet she said was holding.

“4 years and not once have you been sick on a flight” you said

“The headaches” she shrugged and smiled at you. Of course you were gonna grab them off her and buy them for her. You grabbed some random chip snack you found at the front counter and shorty paid before handing the bag to Leah to put in her carry on. You were both absolutely beyond excited. This would be her 5th time in Australia, so she’s been heaps. But you would be staying at your family’s new place on the Gold Coast, QLD. You both sat in the lounge near your gate as you took a photo of Leah as she threw a Lolly into her mouth while smiling. Quickly adding it to your instagram captioning ‘see you soon 🇦🇺’

———

After 26 hours of travel. And your sleepy girlfriend who was currently clinging to your bicep as she slept. It was asked to put on your seatbelts as you went for landing. You slowly woke Leah up slightly so she would be ready for it.

You held hands as Leah started giggling about her funny dream. You looked out the window and squeezed your girlfriend’s hand extra tight as you saw the coastline of Australia.You squealed like a little girl due to your excitement as Leah pressed a kiss to your lips. “Welcome home love” she said before laying back in her seat. You took photos and sent them to your dad and brother to let them know you would be at GC airport in about 45 minutes so they could you pick you both up. You also texted your mum just out of excitement before putting your phone away.

Once you and Leah had gotten off the plane, you walked your tired asses over to the baggage collection. Before you felt someone tap your shoulder. You turned to find your smiling dad and brother. You quickly clung on to them both in a huge hug “oh how i missed you oh my gosh” you said into your brothers neck with a sigh of relief. You also felt small hands tug your sweat shorts, you didn’t realise one of your nieces would be here too.

“Hello beautiful girl!” You squealed pulling away from your brother as you picked up your niece and spun the giggling girl around.

“I missed you so much!” She said before quickly clinging to your neck.

“I missed you so much more” you smiled back. You hadn’t seen the small girl since the World Cup back in August.

You held her on your hip as you turned around to see your girlfriend finally hugging your dad and brother Sam with a big smile. After struggling to get both of your large suitcases off the conveyor belt while you had your mini family reunion.

“Aunty Lee!” You niece squirmed in your arms as you put her down so she could run to Leah.

“Hello you!” Your girlfriend smiled and she knelt down to give her a big hug. It melted your heart the way she was with your nieces.

Leah handed you your suitcase as you pecked her cheek before you rolled it out the airport with your smiling niece riding on top.

“Hello” you yelled out once your dad unlocked the front door to your parents home. You were met with your mum, 2 nieces, Mackenzie and Kirsty all rushing around the corner at the sound of the front door.

You and Leah gave all of them bone crushing hugs and chatted for a little while, had some of the left overs that was left from their dinner since you told them not to wait. It was already 10pm. It was convenient for your girlfriend and you so you could just get yourselves straight to bed.

——————————-

After multiple days of walks down on the beach, family dinners, more surfing lessons for Leah, lots of jet lag, swimming pools and relaxation for you and your girlfriend. It was officially Christmas Eve night and you couldn’t have been more excited if you had tried.

You, leah, Macca and Kirsty were all on the living room floor carpet wrapping presents. Everyone else was in bed. But the four girls in their twenties were not as prepared as everyone else and still had to do all their wrapping.

The holiday played on the TV in front as you had about 40 gifts to wrap for people. For everyone in your family besides the people in the room with you currently. “Stupid wrapping paper argh!” You groaned knocking your head back in frustration as the huge cut of wrapping paper you cut wasn’t large enough by a few centimetres.

“See you didn’t even need to get that gift in the first place” Leah laughed. As you were wrapping your 20th gift for your parents, you comepletely spoil them every year.

You dragged Leah around the large shopping centre to get more gifts for people. “Baby you bought your mum the same scent candle last year i remember you showed me” she grinned as you looked at the box before putting it in your trolley. “Yeah but it probs ran out. That’s the thing with candles lee” you debated back as she shook her head with laughter.

“Sorry I’m just so nice to the People i love” you said to her.

“And you absolutely are, beautiful. But I don’t think we will be able to get return flights anymore once we leave here” Leah said.

“I make alright money Leah Williamson. Plus if you think this is a lot wait till you open your presents.” You smiled at her

“There’s only just a few things I want” she grinned at you as you both walked to the car

“What would those be baby” you smirked back.

“You…and that pop corn machine thing I showed you”

“You showed me that just yersterday! How am I supposed to get that” You panicked. When it came to gifts you were amazing at giving them. Everyone knew that and got excited to receive one from you. If they weren’t perfect for them you would always worry.

“I’m only joking…” she laughed as she kissed your head “at the second one”.

Once you were finished you cuddled up next to Leah on the floor against the couch to watch the end of the movie. Before heading upstairs to your room “night love you” you yelled out softly to mac and Kirsty “goodnight!” They replied before shutting their door. Leah changed out of her normal clothes that she strangely got into after her shower earlier in the night.

“Please match baby” you pouted, sitting on the edge of the bed holding up the Christmas Pajamas that matched yours.

Leah laughed as she saw them, “when did you get those” she said before cupping your face and kissing the tip of your nose.

“Back in London. I forgot I had packed them. Anyways here” you shoved them into her chest with the wide smile of a toddler.

“Of course I will” Leah skipped away to her dresser to change quickly. You giggled getting under the sheets before Leah jumped on top of you just as you were leaning over to plug your phone in. You laughed as she wrapped her long arms around you and placed kisses all over you shoulder.

“I’m so excited to for tomorrow” you smiled looking down on her.

“Me too” the English girl replied as she rolled over so you could cuddle into her side. That’s how you slept every night. It was just the best way that your bodies melted into each other. “Love you baby” she whispered.

“Night beautiful” you smiled before drifting off to sleep.

——-

Christmas morning started with slow cuddles in bed with Leah before very hyper toddlers came running down the bedroom door. They had forced you to come downstairs because they weren’t allowed to “open presents until everyone is awake”.

Leah gave multiple gifts to everyone in your family. Even though she hadn’t met some of them heaps. You gifted Leah a new designer tote bag, some belt she wanted, 2 new Apple Watch bands, YSL perfume, and Tiffany earrings along with other small gifts. She spoiled you loads as well. You two spent a long phone call with her mum before lunch started.

The afternoon was still hot. As the rain cleared, you dragged Leah, your sister and everyone down to the beach.

You were putting on sunscreen in the long mirror in your room. Leah had just done up her bikini before coming up behind you “let me help” she grinned as you were reaching for your back for the sunscreen. You gladly let her as she took the bottle from you. She rubbed gentle circles into your back with the cream, you groaned when her hands made their way up to you shoulders.

“That’s nice” you breathed out as she massaged your back. She sent a grin to the mirror.

“Let’s go” she said before tapping your butt and heading out the door, sunnies on her head. You laughed to yourself as you followed her out. You carried two of your nieces the whole Walk down while talking with Leah and Kirsty. Talking about Kristy mewis’s new transfer to their club.

“I don’t want to jinx anything. But I had a dream last night I did my ACL” you blurted.

“What-“ Kirsty laughed as you said so

“That’s not funny” Leah said

“And then…I died from it. Is that possible?”

“No it’s not. And you’re not going to do your ACL alright?” Leah reassured

“Shit who’s done their ACL?” Mackenzie said catching up to all of you with your third niece on her shoulders.

“Maybe me”

“What!-“

“No!” Leah said putting her towel down in a mess on the beach. You jumped on macca’s back as she ran down to the water. Leah and Kirsty slowly following down after.

“Come here!” You yelled, arms wide open for your niece to jump into them as you took her to the deep end. Leah laughed taking a photo of you and the small girl. “Get in Lee!” You yelled out to her

“Yep soon hang on” she said typing something on her phone. You rose out of the water, putting the child in your arms down near Mackenzie as you ran up to your girlfriend. “No no no” she said backing away.

You somehow, caught up to her and threw her over her shoulder

“No no I have my phone y/n!” She yelled. You muzzled it out of her hand and slowly put in down on the sand next to you.

“Down we go” you sung. As you carried the laughing girl into the water. Before completely dumping her in fully.

“Your done” she huffed as she pushed the wet hair out of her face. You swam and hid behind your taller sister as she just grabbed you by the shoulders and placed you in front of her, right in target for Leah.

“Thanks” your girlfriend said before pushing your shoulders under. The water was actually cold for the humid weather outside.

————

It was late at Christmas night. Technically very early Boxing Day. And even though at 1am, there was light Christmas tunes playing on the radio tv.

Everyone including Leah was asleep in the house. You came down for a midnight snack. You had been for the past few nights here.

“Shockers” a soft voice was heard a long with footsteps. The presence of your older sister brought a smile to your lips. You stuffed the last bit of pavlova in your mouth. “Anymore of that?” She pointed to the dessert.

You just giggled implying you at the last bit. “Again shockers”

“Oi”

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in a year”

“You never got back to me about meeting back in London. And you missed last camp” you implied

“I know sorry. Promise to try more”

“Stop you do try. You were just injured” you said softly as you poured both of you a water. “Are you planning on going with Kirsty to her family next year?” You asked curious.

“Yeah most likely I haven’t been there for Christmas before. What about you?”

“Yeah I’ll probs stay in London with Leah. I told you Caitlin brought Katie and Jordan here?”

“Yes. I’m shocked about Jordan. Not Katie. Oh I love her” she said sipping her water then refilling it

“They’re just really close as a three. Caitlin said today Sam is heading back to America in 2 days to go back with Kristie”

“Damn maybe she’ll finally feel jet lag for once. And did Caitlin call you?”

“Yeah. Just to say merry Christmas and all that”

“She didn’t call me” Mackenzie said joking in a sour way. You poked your tongue out at her as she yawned.

“Ok I’ll go back to bed. I’ve been up since 5”

“5?!”

“Yeah. The girls woke us up first. Proof I’m the favourite?”

“Maybe I’m the favourite and they just respect my beauty sleep more”

“Keep dreaming. Night. Get to sleep so your not cranky” you sister said, back to her bossy self. You heard more footsteps coming back down 1 minute later.

“Love come back to bed” said your love in a croaky voice. You turned to find Leah in her short Pyjama set and her hair everywhere.

“Hello. Looks like you slept well” you said pointing to the sheet marks left from her pillow on her check las you quickly pecked her all over her face.

“Yes I did. And I would like to get back to it. With you” she tugged you slightly back up the stairs.

“I think I’m still a bit jet lagged” you said as your body stayed leaning against the bench. Eating the strawberry punnet you grabbed out of the fridge earlier before.

“Ya think” she giggled now pulling out a kitchen stool to sit with you. The faint sound of The Christmas song by Nat King Cole was played over the radio.

“C’mon dance with me, then bed I promise” you put both your hands out the help her get up and slow dance with you.

“Only cause I get to sleep” she smiled taking your hands. You slowly started dancing with her as she put her head in the crook of her neck. The dance slowed into a long hug with each other’s embrace in the middle of the kitchen.

“I love you” you mumbled slowly into her hair

“Love you most. And again thanks for bringing me” she pecked your shoulder

“Wouldn’t miss the opportunity for the world”

——————

So this was supposed to come out ages ago. And it’s shorter than I hoped. But hope it was alright. Luv u all❤️🎄

#woso #arsenal women #caitlin foord #katie mccabe #auswnt #mackenzie arnold #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson one shot #woso x reader #woso community #woso imagine #christmas #matildas #l

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hellfire--cult · 6 months

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Krampus!Eddie x Virgin!Fem!Reader

wc: 5k

+18 mdni, krampus meets reader at 18 (no smut at that age), obsession from reader, smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), loss of virginity in adulthood, christmas folklore, dark fic, reader isn't a good person.

plot: At 18 years old you were visited by Krampus for misbehaviour, but you instantly fell in love with the creature. Years pass, your sick and toxic obsession grows, making a beast's curiosity bloom, and so, he visits you once again after many years.

a/n: yep, its a reupload after rewriting.

always reblog, don't just like.

MISBEHAVED

Of all the things you thought this monster would look like, you didn’t think he would look like this.

Even the idea of him existing like Saint Nicholas was a crazy thought by itself, but here he is, in the flesh, while Chrissy probably got visited by Saint Nicholas, you were visited by…

“What a naughty girl you’ve been this year, pumpkin.”

You were in the corner of your room with the candle in your hand, trying to light anything close to you as much as possible, the monster's steps getting closer as you gulped loudly, waiting for a hideous monster to appear in front of your eighteen-year-old self.

But in front of you appeared a gorgeous man, with big horns on his head, like a goat’s. Deep brown eyes that glistened with the candle in your hand, long dark curls falling from the top of his head and down to his shoulders, his bare chest, full of symbols, and then you saw his bottom half, pants that resembled black fur as he bent down towards your face.

You couldn’t look away at how beautiful he looked, how this being could be considered a monster at all. Is beauty considered evil? If he was like this, what did Saint Nicholas look like?

“Are you going to take me away?” You asked, almost as if wishing for it, and the man before you smirked, taking something out from the side pocket of his pants, and you could see the twig of a tree, handing it to you. Your confused face made him scoff with a shake of his head.

“No. But this is what you get this year for Christmas. Next year, try to be good, okay?” His tone was calm, and reassuring, yet with a hint of malice behind it that sent a shiver down your spine.

“What’s your name?” Your voice finally got out and he was surprised that you asked such a question.

“Well, I am Krampus.”

“No, your real name.” And his red eyes glistened with a hint of gold, with a hint of amusement.

“Hmm… If you behave, I will let Saint Nicholas give you the knowledge of it next year. How does that sound?”

And the man, if you could consider him that, smiled at you, and that was all it took. All that smile did was finally set your heart into a quick pace, and that’s when you realized:

You became obsessed with him and you would do anything to get to see him again.

So the next year, you behaved, just like he said, and at nineteen years old, Saint Nicholas visited you, only for you to receive the letter ‘E’ as a gift.

“If you keep behaving well, I will give you one letter every year until you complete his full name.”

You were angry, you behaved yourself for nothing, but what if you misbehaved on purpose and he didn’t come anyway? And you wanted to know his real name, you really did. So every year, you kept doing good deeds, even if not with good intentions, you helped with herding the sheep for Mrs.Driscoll, helped Wayne Munson with his farm, and did communal duties in the small town with Nancy Wheeler and Joyce Byers.

Electricity was slowly making its way into the town as the years passed, and each year you received a new letter from Saint Nicholas.

Until you finally reached twenty-one. Saint Nicholas didn’t arrive anymore because you were an adult, but you had a good guess as to what his name might be, something inside you told you so.

'ED'.

You knew he wasn’t going to appear, so you kept your good deeds, but with a bad intention. For example, you helped young Dustin Henderson by teaching him how to milk a cow, yet you didn’t teach him he didn’t have to stand behind it after milking it. The boy received a black eye the next day.

You agreed to help Jonathan Byers with the preparations for a festival that was going to be held in the center of the town, and you handed him the new scented candles that were gifted to you by a lady in the neighboring town. When they were turned on, the candles smelled like rancid milk, and Jonathan took all the blame.

But he never showed. No matter how many years passed, even if you were now twenty-five years old, you couldn’t find anything to help you in invoking him again.

You knew this love of yours would never cease, but the children in town were all good, so Krampus was never seen. You had no way of contacting him, even if you did rituals, even if you tried to talk to Saint Nicholas by creeping on Christmas nights into the houses of the townspeople who had kids, but you were always a second late.

So now, you were pacing around in your house, already sick of this game, sick of these obsessive feelings of yours over a beast that you didn’t know if he even remembered you. Over someone that probably didn’t give a damn about you and who you were, yet you studied him for years, through the tales, through the books, through the experiences, through the people in other towns.

You were never going to see him again. You were tricked by him into believing that you would see him again, and the anger that was sipping through your pores was great, too big.

“Fuck you, Edward! Damn you!”

And the fireplace immediately went out, as the newly installed lightbulbs in your home flicked until they exploded.

You screamed as well as cursed because those were expensive, a dollar each. The price of luxury was a lot, but you wanted the electricity, already tired of lighting candles throughout the small house you bought for yourself after your mother passed away thanks to tuberculosis.

Your head whipped around when you heard the sound of what sounded like hooves coming in contact with the wooden floor of your house, slowly changing into soft steps. You ran to your kitchen to grab your knife in self-defense, pointing it at the open space.

“Who’s there!?”

“You’ve been really naughty, Pumpkin.”

Your blood went cold as two bright yellow eyes shone in the darkness of your living room, and suddenly, there was a snap of fingers and the fireplace lit up again, burning the logs at a fast pace, and it illuminated the entire room, the Christmas tree in the corner now with its decorations glistening once more with the embers of the fireplace.

Yet despite those glistening decorations, your eyes could only focus on one thing. The man, the monster, the creature that you’ve been seeking to see again, standing in the middle of the living room, his hands in his pockets, and a stern look on his face that made you drop the knife to the floor.

Your breathing picked up, your heart thrumming in your chest, and you couldn’t help but swoon at the face you’ve been craving to see all these years, and now he is in front of you, even if angry.

“Edward…” You sighed in pure bliss, in happiness, and you knew you were obsessed, crazy even, but you couldn’t help yourself. You fell for him the very first moment he visited you, and now you are a grown woman, still holding onto those lovely feelings, never forgetting about his eyes that changed from brown to red, to gold.

“Look who’s all grown up, you’re even cursing my name out loud.” He snarled at you, and you could see how intense his gaze was as he scanned you. He took a few steps towards you, his now bare feet coming in contact with the wood, and you wondered if he looked different, yet he took this shape to not scare kids or people off.

“I– I behaved. I earned it.”

“You didn’t behave with honesty. You weren’t a good person because you wanted to be, you were a good person because of your selfishness.” He was finally in front of you with his hands still in his pockets, and his eyes were intense, a deep yellow, staring you down with an unreadable expression.

“I still behaved, that was the deal. You never specified if I behaved honestly or not.” You responded and his eyes twitched in surprise at how mischievous you were. How… brilliant you were.

“And may I ask why you were so obsessed with knowing my name?” He asked and you couldn’t help but press your legs together as heat rose all over your body, your cheeks becoming flushed as you looked at him.

“I wanted to see you again.”

“You are a big adult now, past twenty-one.” And at his response, you finally showed him a big grin on your face, and his eyes flashed with intrigue.

“And yet you are still here… Eddie.”

And the puzzle clicked in his head, a smirk appearing on his lips as his tongue darted out to lick all over them as the thirst came up in his throat, his eyes turning a deep red, and lust filled him to the brim, thanks to the woman that was in front of him.

Your eyes darted from his eyes to the horns, to his hair, to the markings all over his chest and arms, and then, he took his hands out of his pockets, to reveal long nails, like claws. You took a sharp intake of breath as he leaned his face towards yours, inspecting you.

“So you have been misbehaving lately so you could see me again? What is your plan?” He asked in a sultry tone and you just sighed in relief and bliss, and you were brave enough to wrap your arms around his shoulders to pull him close, feeling his broad back underneath your forearms, making you clench your legs again.

“I waited for you… aren’t I good?”

And that made Eddie groan loudly, and with a snap of his fingers you were now in your room, and he pushed you off him so you could fall flat on your bed, taking you by surprise because of how the environment changed in one quick motion.

“No, you are not. If you were, I wouldn’t be here.” Your breathing was heavy, your gut turning with nervousness and excitement because what you’ve been craving was right in front of you. You want him to take you. To make you his. To mark you.

You heard another snap of his fingers and what appeared to be floating candles appeared all around the room, lighting it subtly, endearingly, almost as if it were some sort of ritual, but you weren’t scared of it. You weren’t afraid of what might happen, because whatever it is, whatever he does, you would gladly take it.

He tilted his head to the side as he looked down at your body, and then your eyes widened when his tongue darted out just like before, and now you could see just how long and pointy it actually was, and that only made you wet with the idea of feeling it against your skin.

“Please…” Your hips raised up slightly towards him as if presenting yourself like a bitch in heat. His eyes scanned your body, wondering if you were right in the head, but from what Saint Nicholas had been telling him over the years, it seemed you were doing everything with a conscious mind.

You wanted him, for whatever reason that was. He’s only seen you once, and you became attached to him like a moth to a flame. He took a deep breath in, inhaling your scent, be it the one you were emanating from your pores as well as the scent from the wetness between your thighs.

His clawed hand shot out to grip the front of your white nightgown, startling you when you start hearing a ripping sound. Your body jerked upwards as he ripped the gown apart, opening for him, and now you lay there, bare for him to take in with his red lust-filled eyes.

“You are untouched.” It was a confirmation, and you smiled at him with a nod, and that only made his hunger increase by a hundred. A virgin. Now he realized what you meant when you said you waited for him.

“I want you, and only you…” You finally admitted it to him, and his eyes found yours. Your breathing was heavy, your breasts moving up and down as your lungs tried to get oxygen inside, your cunt pulsing with need.

And his eyes gleamed in a golden hue once more, as if there was a click of some sort.

A growl was heard in the room and you yelped as he grabbed your thighs, pushing you closer to the edge of your bed. He fell to his knees and took a deep inhale of your intoxicating scent. You needed to be punished for your behavior, the biggest punishment.

His long tongue snaked out of his lips to flick your clit, making you gasp as you stared at the ceiling. This new feeling, so dirty, something you waited for so long, and even if you had the chance to, you didn’t want anybody but him.

He licked around your folds, tasting the wetness that surrounded them, an animalistic groan vibrating in his chest, his claws digging into your inner thighs as he kept your legs open for him. He couldn’t wait anymore, pressing all of his tongue against your slick, tasting you completely, and you finally let out a moan out of pure ecstasy as you gripped the sheets below you.

He smirked against your cunt as it pulsated for more contact, and he immediately dove in. Your moans could probably be heard from outside, but you didn’t care, nobody was near you, so there was nothing that could forbid you from yelling his name, from crying out from the pleasure you were feeling.

His tongue was going in between tasting you and flicking your clit repeatedly. His lips sucked on your folds and you couldn’t believe you waited for so long to feel something like this, but it was worth it. It’s so worth it.

Your eyes opened wide when you felt his tongue slowly sliding inside of you. You’ve only touched yourself outside, you never inserted a finger of yours even if you were curious. This feeling was weird, but pleasurable all the while. You felt it move inside of you, as if flicking your walls from side to side, making your back arch upwards.

“Oh–!” You were amazed by how good this felt, how amazing he was making you feel with just these simple touches, these hungry kisses all around your center.

“You taste delightfully darling. And I am the first to taste it.” And last is what he wants to say, but he will take that comment with him, at least for now. He needs to keep his tongue inside of you, drunk of your taste, of your juices filling his taste buds.

“Edward– Eddie, please–” You didn’t know what you were asking for, but you needed something, yet you didn’t know what. He then pressed his nose against your clit as his tongue swirled inside of you, and you let out a loud moan, your hands shooting down to get hold of both of his horns.

He moaned against your cunt, desire shooting downwards, the pants becoming too constricting on him. His horns are quite sensitive, and you are pulling him against you even harder as you start to ride your hips against his face. What a naughty girl. His naughty girl.

His claws dug into your inner thighs as he felt you start shaking under his ministrations, your moans growing louder as he felt you pulsating against his tongue, clenching, body arching upwards as his name kept coming out of your mouth, over and over again.

“CHRIST!” You finally yelled as the tight band finally snapped inside of your belly, making you spasm against his hold, your hands gripping his horns as you rode your hips against his face, trying to feel all of your orgasm as he tasted and drank every gush you let out, not missing a single drop.

You were an elixir. He’s never been with a human before, mostly because he is in charge of children rather than adults, but you were a special case. He had to know why you wanted his name so badly, and now he is more than happy that you know it, that you even gave him a nickname so it would be easier for you to scream.

He pulled away from you, licking a few stripes of your center, making you jerk slightly at the overstimulation as you slowly came down from your high. He let go of your legs, seeing that there was some blood on your inner thighs where his claws dug into. He licked onto your wounds, and your skin instantly started patching back up.

He stood up, towering over your naked body as you breathed heavily, looking at him with dazed eyes, yet still hungry. He raised his hand and snapped his fingers again, and you looked down to see his pants slowly fading away, and you gasped as you saw just how big he was.

You’ve never seen male anatomy before, but this– you knew that this was not normal. And you remembered that Krampus– Eddie, is not human. He never was, yet you didn’t care. Was he a demon? A monster? A spirit? You didn’t care at all. From the pictures of the books you found, the supposed drawings didn't do him any justice.

But maybe, this was not his original shape.

“Even if you deserve to be punished, I will be gentle with you darling. I don’t wanna break this– lovely present you are giving me in this advent season.” You could hear the smirk in his tone as his hands wrapped around your frame to pull you back up into the middle of the bed.

Nerves filled your body but were quickly removed as you felt his tongue licking from your knee, towards your hips, then your stomach, all the way up changing into kisses as he reached one of your nipples. He swirled his tongue around the hardened nub to then clamp his mouth against it and that’s when you jerked again, pleasure shooting to your core again.

Your arms immediately wrapped around his back as your legs opened for him to slot right in the middle. You felt his hardness against you, and you didn’t care if it hurt, as long as he finally took you for himself, to complete this fantasy of yours, for him to know just how obsessed and how much you love him.

Because that’s what you feel. Love. Unconditionally, in the weirdest of forms.

It was crazy to think that you fell in love at first sight, but it was what happened. You fell for him as soon as his eyes clashed with yours, and it was one-sided. You didn’t care if it was, and if it still is. He would own you now, even if you never saw him again, you would be forever happy.

Your eyes widened when pain shot all over your chest, and you didn’t realize until now that the man had fangs. He has fangs or some kind of sharpened teeth, yet even in the pain you still felt pleasure. He let go of your right nipple to keep licking his way up as you moan from the feeling of his hot tongue on your skin.

He raised his head from your skin to look down on your face, and your eyes clashed with his again, and they glistened with a golden hue through the red once more. He leaned forward and your heart stopped as you felt his lips against yours, another place where you remained untouched.

You kissed him back, not having expected that he would kiss you at all, and in such an intimate way. He was soft, caring, not at all what you thought he would be, yet he was proving you wrong. Maybe the tales were wrong. He is not evil, he never was. His job was always to make children learn from their mistakes, while Saint Nicholas took the good guy part for himself when all he did was pamper selfish children.

Eddie groaned into your lips and you couldn’t help but open your eyes to finally see the tail behind him, something you didn’t spot before, maybe because he tucked it too well, or hid it. It was wagging, almost like a whip, with a fluffy end. It was black, and you couldn’t help but feel more attracted to him now.

You closed your eyes once more as you felt his tongue lick your bottom lip, and your lips parted to let him inside your mouth, your tongues dancing with each other now, making your cunt clench in need again. You didn’t know that kissing someone could turn you on like this, but he is proving you wrong with each touch he gives you and provides you with.

His hands were caressing all of your body. Your sides, your hips, your thighs until one of his hands disappeared, only to feel him line himself up to your entrance and his lips pulled away from yours, looking down at your face.

“Breathe out. Don’t hold it in. Be a good girl for once.”

And you listened. Krampus calling you a good girl was something that ignited thousands of flames inside of your body, and his hips moved forward, breaching you open. You threw your head back with a wince as you felt him slowly opening you up for the first time ever. It stung, and it definitely burned, but it would pass, it has to pass.

“It– It hurts– But… Don’t stop–”

“Didn’t think of doing that. You still need punishment after all.” He almost sounded unphased, as if he weren’t stimulated at all, yet you could hear some restraint in his voice as if holding in something in the back of his throat.

He was claiming you. Slowly and torturously, and even in your short gasps and winces, you took it all. He was amazed by you, how you waited for him, how much you wanted him despite him not being human. Maybe you weren’t right in the head after all.

And he hit the wall, and with one hard thrust, he plunged forward, finally breaking it. You cried out, your nails digging into his back as pain shot through your body, but you heard him finally moan out in bliss as your tightness engulfed him. You were so warm, so perfect for him that he could hardly handle it.

“Ed– Eddie–” You were choking out his name as you tried to adjust to his size, your cunt pulsing around him at the sudden intrusion. He raised himself up, his hands on each side of your head as your nails dug into his sides. Your eyes widened when you saw the symbols on his body start to shine, it was dim, but it was a dark glow, like a shadow around them.

“Such a good girl…” And those words made you relax once again, and that let him be able to move backward, slowly, eliciting a wince from your part, and then a gasp as he moved back in again. “So good for me.”

You felt tears rolling down your face, but a smile was spread on your lips, and if someone told you that you would have to endure this pain every time in order to see him over and over again, you would. You definitely would.

His hips moved back again and then pushed in once more. The winces slowly turned into moans, the pain fading away, and even if the burning remained, the pleasure was slowly increasing inside of you as his thrusts started gaining some speed and momentum. Your eyes were hazy as they tried to adjust to look at his face.

His eyes were pure gold now, yellow as they looked down at your face, contorting in pure ecstasy as his thrusts became deeper now, your body jerking upwards as he started hitting a part of you, inside, that you didn’t know you could feel. You didn’t know what it was, but it was a hundred times better than your clit.

“Oh– Fuck– Fuck!” Your head was thrown back as your nails scratched onto his sides, making a groan escape him, his posture straightening to grab the back of your knees, pulling your legs up, opening you wider for him and that’s when you felt his need, his desire, as he started moving fast, desperate, and he was fixated on your breasts as they bounced at his every move.

He couldn’t take his eyes away from you as you moaned his name over and over again, and he felt the marks on his body burning him, making the pleasure even more unbearable. He needed to make you his, forever. Give you the worst punishment Krampus can give to bad people.

His hands slipped down to get hold of your hips and you kept your legs up as the skin slapping could be heard all over your house, pulling you towards him each time he thrust in, helping him go deeper into you and harder.

He could feel your walls clenching again, and he smirked as he looked down at you, your mouth open, drooling, as your hands were over your head, all over your pillow as you moved up and down thanks to his movements, the wood of the bed creaking against the floor.

“Come on sweet girl, you can give me one more, just one more.” One of his hands left your hips to get in between the two of you and you winced when you felt one of his nails scratch your clit, only to then moan when his digit came in contact and started to draw circles on it as he kept thrusting in and out of you as he tried to reach his own high.

“I love you– I love you– Make me yours, please– please!” And he smiled wickedly as he moaned out at your words. He knew you meant them, wholeheartedly. You really weren’t right in the head. He was sure of it now, and he didn’t know who to thank for that, but he was eternally grateful for them.

His thrusts quickened as he kept hitting that part inside of you while circling your clit with his thumb. You felt your body growing hot, like fire, as your legs started shaking and your hips jerking towards him as you felt your belly tighten, burn you, scream at you for release, and your hands were gripping onto your pillow under your head as your mouth was wide open with silent moans coming out of it.

“Do it, my good girl, do it.”

My good girl.

And that did it for you, clenching tightly around him, like a vice grip, like a python against their prey, crying his name, loudly, with breathy moans escaping you as your body shook against him. He didn’t stop his thrusting as he looked down at you, mesmerized, and he knew now that he definitely couldn’t let you go.

And so he claimed you, moaning your name loudly, even if you have never told him, he knew it. He spilled inside of you in long ropes, jerking his hips at every shot. Who would've thought a human would feel like this? Taste like this? He is obsessed now, not going to be able to let go of this, he is drunk on it, high on it, and he is definitely addicted.

You were at his mercy, in body and soul, and one of the things Krampus loves most is new toys. New toys that bend at his every will. New toys that would benefit him. New toys that he can play with, anytime he wants.

He was breathing heavily, yet tried to conceal it as he stared down at your face, completely spent, with tears and drool running downwards the side of your face. Oh yes… he almost forgot…

He leaned downwards to be face to face with you, and you opened your eyes to look at him. He smirked as he leaned down towards your neck, giving you a small lick before clamping his teeth down onto your skin, making you gasp in surprise at the sudden pain as your hands came to grip his shoulders for support.

You felt him suck on your skin, suck on your blood, for him to then pull away, another lick of his tongue on the wound he just provoked. He pulled away to look at the new mark on your skin, a symbol, a black swirl. He looked down at you, smiling wickedly as he rubbed your cheek.

“Time for me to give you your punishment.” Your eyebrows pinched together as you looked at him with a completely spent look in your eyes.

“My punishment?”

“Krampus is taking you away for misbehaving… horribly.”

And then the house was silent, the lights gone, candles gone out, fireplace with no embers, and then the townspeople never saw you again.

But children now say that Krampus does not come alone. The figure of a woman always stands in the doorway as he does his job, and his deeds, and the only thing the children can see from the shadows is a wicked smile, her white teeth, and glowing golden eyes.

Same as Krampus.

End

an: fuck them cute christmas fics

Merry Christmas, you naughty children.

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rainylana · 1 year

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“Something you wanted.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

Summary: you show up to Eddie and Wayne’s with gifts.

Warnings: language, very soft eddie, eddie doesn’t know how to react to presents, some insecurities on his behalf, new relationship with him and the reader. i hope everyone had a great christmas!!<3 okay and also i’m not going to do my taglist anymore because that’s a pain in the ass so sorry for my laziness!!

“Merry Christmas!” You beamed, lugging in bags of christmas presents in your arms, huffing a breath as you tried to cram yourself in the door.

“Uh- babe,” Eddie helped usher you through the door, eyeing your skeptically. “Why do you look like Santa Clause?”

You chuckled as you dropped your gifts to the floor, face red from the cold. “I look like mrs. clause, thank you very much. You like my skirt?” You twirled your red and white skirt, matched with a red sweater and a santa hat on your head.

“What are you doing here?” He started patting the snow off your shoulders, closing the door to his home. “Thought you’d weren’t coming over till tomorrow.”

“Well tomorrow won’t be christmas anymore!” You smiled, looking around the trailer. “Is Wayne here?”

Eddie gave you another weird look before turning. “Old man! Y/n’s here!” When he looked back you were on the ground shuffling through your gift backs.

“What are those for?”

You paused, looking up at him to give a funny look. “What do you think they’re for? They’re for you guys, dummy! Christmas presents!”

“All of these?!” His eyes widened. “Y/n- no way, you shouldn’t have.”

“I know that.” You chuckled, taking them out one by one at his feet. “But I wanted too.”

“Why is Santa in our living room?” Wayne announced himself, standing in the kitchen with a raised brow.

“Merry Christmas, Wayne!” You waved, sparking off your pearly teeth. “You guys go sit down so I can pass these out!”

Eddie looked to his guardian with confused eyes, not sure what to do. Wayne muttered under his breath as he made his way to the couch, nodding for Eddie to sit down.

“Okay, so I have these labeled.” You crawled over to their feet with two gifts in hand. “Read what it says.” You sat them in their lap.

Eddie was looking at it like it was a ticking time bomb, while Wayne fished out his reading glasses. “Something you need.” His voice came out in a deep hum.

“Are we supposed to open it?” Eddie said confused.

Wayne rolled his eyes as you laughed. “Yeah, Eddie, open it!”

He nodded before both of them started to tear open the paper, and you noticed how Eddie kept looking at you, then to the other gifts you had behind you.

“Underwear?” Eddie raised a brow, holding up a five back of boxers.

“Oh, thank god,” Wayne exhaled. “You’ve been living in those blue checkered ones for three years now.”

“I have not!” Eddie burned red, straightening. “Quit talking, old man, and open you’re shit.”

“Hey, I’m the one who does your laundry, boy, I outta know.”

You giggled behind your teeth, watching as Eddie felt the fabric at the opening, giving you an awkward smile.

“Batteries?” Wayne said skeptically.

“Uh-huh!” You nodded. “Because the last time I was over you were bitching about your flashlight dying with those old batteries, so know you don’t have to bitch!”

“Thank god.” Eddie praised. “Say, thank you, old man.”

Wayne gave his nephew a glare before giving you a grateful nod. “Thanks, kid.”

“You’re welcome.” You nodded back. “Okay, next!” You reached behind you to grab two other gifts, making their jaw drop.

“Y/n, you didn’t have to do all of this.” Eddie furrowed his brows as you placed another gift in his lap. “We don’t need-”

“Something to read.” Wayne read the label on the red paper before tearing it open.

Eddie hurried to catch up.

“Hey, nice,” Wayne chuckled. “Peanuts comics.” He showed to Eddie. Wayne liked to read the comics in the paper before work, especially peanuts and Garfield. “Thanks, doll.”

“No fucking way.” Eddie cursed, revealing a thick, brown book. “You did not.” His eyes were wide as saucers. “Y/n, this is-”

“Not as expensive as you think.” You finished for him, grabbing his calf. “Just look inside, it’s actually pretty cool!”

It was a collectors edition version of The Fellowship of the Ring, maps on the inside, facts of lore and inspiration from the author. Eddie had seen it once in a bookstore in Indianapolis. That was four months ago.

“Pretty cool?” Eddie’s voice rose an octave. “Babe, this is amazing.” He looked over at Wayne, holding up his book as the man smiled at him. “Look away, old man.” Eddie flung his hand toward Wayne as he leaned down to give you a peck on the lips. “Thank you so much.” Eddie allowed himself to smile. “Really, thanks a lot. This is epic.”

You blushed, your heart warming at his own happiness. “Okay last one.” You placed two other gifts in their lap as wrapping paper laid down at their feet.

“Something you wanted.” Eddie read this time, giving you a smile.

Wayne tore into his quickly, making you laugh as he revealed his present. “Now, just how and the hell did you know I wanted this?” Wayne chuckled, holding out his new leather wallet. It was expensive, but they didn’t need to know that.

“I specifically heard you say damn wallet one day when the zipper was stuck.” You smirked, patting his knee.

“New chains!” Eddie squealed that time, nearly jumping in his seat. “Holy shit, thank you!”

You smiled widely, then over to Wayne who looked very proud. “You’re welcome, Ed’s.”

“These will look perfect on my black jeans, don’t you think?” He asked, taking them out of the package.

“Without a doubt.” You tossed off your santa hat, getting hot. “Look right sexy.”

And then Eddie got quiet. Very quiet. Both you and Wayne noticed it, but he was the first to say something. “You okay, bud?”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything, keeping his head down. You tried to find his eyes but couldn’t, chewing on your lip nervously. He had seemed to like everything.

Wayne mentioned something about going out for a smoke, stepping over the wrapping paper and thanking you once more for the gifts.

“Eddie, what’s wrong?” You grabbed his ankle. “You’re quiet all of a sudden.”

Your heart sank when you saw he was crying. “Hey,” you said gently, moving to sit beside him on the couch. “Eddie, what’s wrong? I saved the receipts if you want to exchange them.”

“Exchange them?” Eddie looked at you, eyes tearful and red. “No, y/n, it isn’t that. It’s just…”

This wasn’t normal for him. Wayne and him would give each other something small sure, but someone coming into their home with gifts wasn’t normal. Someone thinking of them for a change wasn’t normal. You should of realized, but it wasn’t your fault. This was your first christmas with him.

“Hey,” You grabbed his red cheeks. “You deserve every little bit of this and more, you hear me?” You wiped his tears with your thumbs. “You’re my boyfriend and I love you. I wanted to do this.”

“I’m sorry,” He shook his head shamefully. “I just..well, I’m not very good at this stuff. I have something for you too, but it’s not near as good as all of this.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, baby.” You shook your head. “That’s not what this is about. I just want you to know how much I care about you, is all. That’s what this time of year is for. Both you and Wayne deserve it.”

Eddie allowed himself to shed one more tear before he buried his face under your chin, pressing his nose against your collar bone. “I love you so much. I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes, you do.” You wrapped your arms around him, kissing his ear. “Both of you deserve this.”

You could feel his tears slide down your skin, and you held him tightly close, knowing Wayne was outside probably close to freezing to death. When you heard his sniffled stop, you peaked down at him with a smile. “Should we go check on your uncle? He’s probably an ice block by now.”

Eddie chuckled and sniffled, using his sleeve to wipe his tears. “Yeah, let’s go check on the old man.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #soft eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson imagines #eddie stranger things #eddie blurb #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x you #christmas eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanons

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headkiss · 6 months

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maybe this christmas time

pairing: steve harrington x sunshine!reader

summary: working as an elf during the holidays (which he isn’t a fan of) is not how steve would choose to spend his time, neither is doing a bucket list of your creation. you end up changing his mind.

word count: 9.5k

warnings: use of she/her pronouns for r, some grumpy steve (he’s still a softie underneath it, i can’t help it!), some family issues (a phone call from steve’s mom), a rude customer, christmas activities/themes, fluff, and a first kiss!

a/n: merry christmas and happy holidays from me to you!!! i hope u guys enjoy this one, i had a lot of fun writing it!! big big thank you to @bcyhoods for sending the request that inspired me to write this fic and to @bruisedboys who helped me out when i was unsure about things <333 ily guys i hope u all have the happiest of holidays!

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Starcourt Mall is decorated to the brim. Fake snow and garlands, giant ornaments hanging from the ceiling, a Christmas tree that stays lit all day long.

And, in the middle of it all, Santa’s Workshop.

That’s where you are, where you’ve been for a couple of Decembers now. Every other month of the year, you work at the movie theater, scooping popcorn and scanning tickets. But, for December, you trade in your cinema t-shirt for an elf outfit, striped tights and all.

“It’s really not so bad once you get past the itching,” you tell Steve.

“Great,” he says, the sarcasm clear in his tone.

“Great,” you repeat, cheery enough for the both of you.

He wasn’t sure how it could get any worse than the sailor uniform. That is, until he saw what he had to wear for this gig.

It’s Steve Harrington’s first year at Santa’s Workshop, and you’ve been tasked with training him, though the job is mostly self-explanatory.

But unlike you, Steve didn’t volunteer for this.

“I can’t believe they picked me to do this,” he sighs. “Don’t even like elves.”

“Well they had to pick someone, Steve.” You shrug, “who knows, you might end up having fun!”

“Not likely.”

“At the very least, you’re getting paid, right?” You nudge him once with your elbow, “plus, if you’re extra nice, some moms give pretty good tips.”

You and Steve went to school together, but he never really spoke to you then. It was only after graduation that you had any sort of conversation with him. They mostly consisted of him bribing you with free ice cream to let Dustin and the gang into the movies for free.

That was after you caught him letting them into the back rooms to sneak in.

Now, Steve’s wearing a pair of slippers that jingle with every step just like yours, and in the only two shifts you’ve had together so far, you’ve spoken more than ever. Even if it’s mostly been instructions from you and an unenthusiastic comment in response from Steve.

“Do I really have to wear these fucking shoes?” He asks, following you out of the staff room.

“Yes. It’s part of the uniform.” You turn around to face him, walking backwards while he walks forwards. “Don’t worry, you’ll tune out the jingling soon enough.”

“I’ll hear these jingles in my nightmares.”

“At least you look cute!”

You spin back around, and Steve only rolls his eyes as he trudges on behind you.

Steve’s not quite sure how he feels about you, whether he finds you a little annoying or endearing. At the moment, with an elf hat squishing his hair, he’s leaning a little more towards the first.

He didn’t know you during school. Admittedly, he was an asshole for most of his time at Hawkins High, so that explains that. Even still, he doesn’t know much about you, only that you’re kind enough not to snitch on him for sneaking the kids into the movies and that you seem to seep sunshine all the fucking time.

And your sunshine seems to be dialed up during the holidays. Like you really believe in ‘holiday cheer.’

Steve knows, deep down and buried somewhere he’s not quite ready to face yet, that he’s mostly just jealous. Because if you like the holidays so much, if you’re smiling the way you do so often, you must have it pretty good at home.

To him, nothing else makes sense. Not when Christmas at the Harrington household has been absolute shit for years. First, it was the gifts he never wanted, things his parents didn’t care enough to know he didn’t like. Then, they dwindled until, eventually, Christmas did, too.

There’s a travel discount during the holidays, sweetie. We’re visiting dad’s boss’ cabin. Next year, we promise. Excuse, excuse, excuse.

So yeah, Steve’s never really understood the appeal. Walking behind you in a pair of jingling shoes and a scratchy outfit, he’s not sure he ever will.

You lead him towards the area where Santa’s Workshop has been set up, right by the fountain. There’s bright red carpet rolled out over the usual tiled floors, an area set up for the cue of families, and of course, a bench where some guy playing Santa will sit.

“Since we’re opening today I’ll show you the whole set-up routine.” You step over the rope with the sign that says ‘Gone to feed the reindeer!’ with Steve in tow. “Easy peasy.”

Steve steps over the rope behind you, shaking his head at the sound his shoes make when he lands. He chooses to listen to your voice instead.

“First, we count the props,” you nod over at the bin that’s tucked away behind a small tree, “there should be four sets of antlers, two santa hats, a red nose, and some extra elf hats.”

He stares at you—because why on earth would you have that memorized—and raises his eyebrows. For a moment, as he watches you grab the clipboard that sits atop the prob bin and start counting, Steve wonders if maybe he should be more like you. The kind of person who seems to see the good in everything.

Then, he remembers what the outfit he’s got on looks like and shakes the thought away.

“Why would anyone want to be a clown in these pictures?” He says.

“The red nose is for Rudolph, dummy.”

You say dummy with a smile, like it’s something to admire. Steve huffs.

“Rudolph’s a loser.”

“Aw, come on, he’s got his own song and everything! I’d say that makes him the opposite of a loser.”

“Of course you would,” he mutters, cursing the tiniest twitch of a smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth. “What’s next?”

“Right,” you grab the bag that you brought from the staff room and set it on the ground by the tripod that’s already set up. “Next is the camera. Here, I’ll show you.”

The only knowledge Steve’s got of cameras comes from whatever Jonathan has told him, which hasn’t been very much, considering the pair’s history on the topic despite them being friends now.

So, he steps closer to you, watches as you pull the camera out of the bag.

“You just have to switch it on and make sure the battery’s full, right there,” you say, pointing at the small symbol that lets you know if the camera’s charged or not. “And don’t forget to take the lens cap off. I did it once and this dad yelled at me, so...”

You pop the lens cap off, putting it in the bag. Steve’s standing close to you, right behind you, his chin hovering over your shoulder, the warmth of his chest just shy of brushing against your back.

“Finally,” you continue, ignoring the little skip in your heartbeat, the way you breathe just a tiny bit quicker. “Set it up on the tripod, and you’re good to go.”

He watches your fingertips move easily, securing the camera to the tripod. When you’re done, you turn around to face him, and it’s only then that Steve realizes how close he’s gotten.

Close enough that you stumble and land against his chest, his hands on your upper arms to steady you as you pull back quickly, like you’d been burned. Steve, however, doesn’t let go just yet and he’s got no idea why.

He doesn’t let go until the music in the mall is switched on, the opening notes of some Christmas song startling you both. Steve steps back and releases you, dropping his hands by his sides and ignoring the twitch of his fingers.

“Alright,” you say, trying to brush the moment off. “That sound means we’re open. You ready?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Nope!”

Your lunch breaks at Santa’s Workshop feel like a luxury, because no matter how much you enjoy the job, it’s nice to get away from the rowdy children it forces you to deal with.

Unlike your job at the theater, where your breaks are staggered, the workshop closes for an hour every day, meaning that even during lunch, Steve’s stuck with you.

The sign by the line for Santa is flipped, and parents groan whenever they see the festive font saying you’ll be back in an hour.

You take the hour spent in the staff room as a time to ask him questions, what his hobbies are (“does driving a pack of 13-year-olds around count?”), if he likes his job at Scoops (“I’m starting to appreciate it more. The lesser of two evils, or something”), if he’d introduce you to Robin someday (“I’m afraid of what that might do to my sanity.”)

Today, you’re trying to tackle the subject of his Grinch-like tendencies.

“What’s your favorite Christmas movie?” You ask.

Steve doesn’t know why he continues to answer your questions whenever you throw them at him—which is often—but he does. He thinks it might be like being mean to a puppy, ignoring you. Unnecessarily cruel.

“Don’t have one.”

“Ugh. Come on, Steve! Everyone has a favorite.” You slump in your seat across from him at the small table in the break room. Steve stares at you blankly as he takes another bite of his lunch. “You can tell me.”

“I’m serious,” he says, nudging your foot with his when it comes close. “They’re cheesy.”

“Aren’t you secretly a rom-com fan?”

“How did you-”

“So, you actually enjoy cheesy movies!”

“Okay, well you don’t have to say it to the entire mall. Gosh.”

Steve wonders how you know that about him, how you’ve been able to guess a lot of things without him telling you. Briefly, just for a second, he wonders if that might mean something.

Like, if maybe you’re in his life now for a reason.

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me, Steve.” You smile what you hope is an honest, reassuring smile. “So, the cheesiness isn’t the root of the issue.”

“No, I guess not.”

“I’m gonna take a guess here,” you start, “and say that you’re not a fan of Christmas.”

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Steve, I’ve never heard someone complain about jingle bells so much in my life.”

“We can’t all behave like we’ve been injected with sunshine.”

You don’t think he means it as a compliment, but you decide to take it as one nonetheless. But you suppose he’s right, there’s always gotta be a balance. Dark and light, happy and sad.

“Thank you,” you give him a quick grin. “And you’re avoiding the question.”

He’s silent for a moment, twisting his fork around between his fingers. “My parents never really did Christmas.”

Your heart squeezes a little in your chest at his words, at the way his tone goes quieter, at the way he looks at the table to avoid catching your eye.

Immediately, you feel guilty for prying, because the last thing you’d ever wanted to do was force him to tell you something he didn’t want to. It’s not your place, no matter how curious you are, no matter how much you’d like to give him a hug or something right about now.

It’s not your place, but you find yourself wishing it could be.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Steve.” You reach for his hand that sits on the table and give it a quick squeeze before pulling back. “You don’t have to talk about it. I shouldn’t have bugged you.”

“It’s okay. I’ve had a lot of time to accept it.” He shrugs, like it doesn’t affect him. But from the scrunch in his brows, you can tell it does, at least a little bit. “The Harringtons have better things to do than sit around cleaning up wrapping paper.”

Steve feels embarrassed, his cheeks warm and his head bent. He doesn’t like scraping this wound open, doesn’t like to think about what he was missing out on while everyone thought his life was perfect.

He especially doesn’t want you looking at him like he’s injured or something after this.

Surprisingly to Steve, you don’t. You actually do quite the opposite. You smile brightly at him, like you’ve just had an excellent idea, like you can inject a bit of your sunshine into him with it.

“How about this: I’ll teach you how great Christmas can be.”

“I think it might be a little late for that.” Steve tries to shake his admission away, to clear the room. He points at the elf hat on his head, “this outfit has ruined any last shred of hope I had.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that you make a cute elf? You pull it off better than I do.”

“You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not!” Steve raises his eyebrows at you. You ignore that look. “Whatever. I cannot in good conscience, let you keep disliking Christmas. Think of how fun it could be. Plus, you owe me for all of those movies I let your children into.”

Steve already finds it difficult to say no to you, because of how kind you remain even when he’s snarky with you, because of the same kindness you seem to offer to everyone you meet.

So, even though he’s not sure what your plan entails, he sighs and says: “okay. Fine.”

“Wait, really?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

You cheer, clapping a little in your seat. “Oh my gosh, we can go skating, and go to one of those Christmas light festivals, and make cookies-”

“What did I get myself into?” Steve mutters, while you’re still rambling off ideas.

“-I’m gonna need to make a list.”

Even after your break ends, you seem to have an extra pep in your step, if that’s even possible. Your smile is a bit wider, your eyes brighter, and Steve can’t help but feel a little special for being somewhat responsible for that.

Really, what did I get myself into, he wonders.

In the time between him agreeing to your Christmas plans a couple of days ago and now, at yet another shift, Steve has realized that he actually likes you quite a bit. Even though your seemingly constant optimism drives him a little bit crazy.

You treat everyone with an attitude that’s so rare, he finds that his previous annoyance for you is slowly becoming overtaken by the endearment.

He won’t admit it, not when bantering with you seems to be the highlight of his days lately, but Steve is starting to be sort of grateful that he got selected for this job.

And that has absolutely nothing to do with the outfit he wears. He still fucking hates that.

“It’s alright, cutie,” he hears your voice say, all soft and understanding. He finds you, crouched down to talk to a little girl who seems to be wary of Santa. “I bet Santa will give you something extra from your list if you smile for the picture.”

The girl nods, like she’s determined. But, when you stand back up, she grabs onto your hand by your side.

“What is it?” You ask her.

“Can you do it with me?”

You look over to the girl’s mother where she stands to the side, and she nods, eager to get the picture done. So, with that, you say, “okay, then.”

Steve’s standing behind the camera as he watches you help the girl onto the bench beside Santa. Then you’re sitting beside her and telling her to look at the nice boy behind the camera.

It takes him a second to realize you’re talking about him, but when he does, he forces himself into action, bending to look through the viewfinder.

“Say cheese,” he says.

The click of the camera sounds, and then it’s done. You help the girl down, who goes over to her mom quickly and they head over to grab their picture.

Once they’re gone, the line dies down, giving you and Steve a rare pause from the pictures and overenthusiastic welcomes to ‘the North Pole.’

“I hope that family’s okay with my face in their picture,” you say, coming to stand beside Steve by the camera. “I mean, I know the mom nodded, but maybe they’ll cut me out of it.”

You’ve become more comfortable with Steve the more you’ve worked with him, getting to know him in how his grumpiness is more related to the holidays and early mornings than anything else, in how he turns the same grumpiness down when he talks to the kids.

You think he’s grown more comfortable with you, too, because he’s started bringing you a coffee in a festive cup in the morning, leaving it in your cubby without a word.

From Steve, you think that says a lot. His actions have always spoken louder than his words, you think. Like the free ice cream he gives you from Scoops, or the small nod he’d give you whenever he’d pick up the kids from a movie.

And now, there’s the small tug of his lips, the hint of a smile that has you saying, “Steve Harrington are you smiling right now?”

“Shut up,” he shakes his head at you. “That was sweet. What you did for that girl.”

Steve lets himself say what he thinks for once, because there’s nobody else around, because he wants you to hear it.

You hide your shy smile by looking down at your feet. You know that underneath everything, Steve is probably one of the best boys you’ve ever met, because even with his attitude, he’ll never say anything to truly hurt you, and with how little you know about his family, you also know that it’s rare for someone in his situation to remain so good.

Any resemblance of a compliment from Steve feels extra special, like its own gift in itself.

“Ruining her picture, you mean?” You ask, trying to cover up how you feel about him calling you sweet.

“You didn’t ruin that picture, sunshine.”

Sunshine. That’s new.

“Well I’m glad someone thinks so.”

Before Steve has the chance to respond, the line picks up again, and it’s back to business as usual. The routine click of the camera, the sound of parents telling their kids to smile nice and big.

You and Steve catching each other’s eye when a particularly entertaining family rolls around, laughing at the way he does an impression of a mom after she leaves. With work being sort of like this every day, you wish it could be Christmas all year round. You much prefer this to the theater, you think.

Steve can't say that he likes this job more than Scoops—Robin might call him traitorous—but he finds that you’d been at least a little right when you said that it would get better when he got used to things, when he hears the sound of your laugh rather than those stupid bells on his shoes.

He finds that he sometimes has to remind himself that he doesn’t like the holidays, that they aren’t like this all the time.

At the end of your shift, as you and Steve grab your stuff from the staff room, you turn to him, leaning against the wall as he shrugs on his coat.

“So, I made a list,” you say. “We are going to have the best Christmas ever, Harrington.”

“My standards are very low, so it wouldn’t take much.”

“Don’t care. I have plans. We can make gingerbread houses and get Christmas pajamas-”

“Absolutely not.”

While Steve already agreed to letting you show him Christmas your way, he thinks he can only take so much at a time. Small doses of your jolly spirit are plenty.

“Steeeve.”

“I am drawing the line. No Christmas pajamas. Not happening.”

“But the gingerbread houses are a yes?” You ask, hopeful and smiling like it’ll persuade him.

“I’ll get back to you on that one.”

That’s what Steve decides to say, instead of simply agreeing because he finds that he’d like to spend time with you outside of work, to see if you’re really so bright all the time, to see if he can soak it up a little better when he’s not dressed as a damn elf.

That’s what he decides to say because it’s easier than spilling the rest of it out there. Much, much easier.

“But you already agreed!” You pout at him a little, exaggerated dramatics on your part. “You can’t just tell me I can teach you Christmas and then back out, I mean, I made an actual bucket list. With glitter and shit.”

“Oh no, not the glitter,” Steve places a hand on his chest, sarcastically scandalized. “That makes it serious.”

You blink at him, giving him a blank look. “Don’t diss the list. By the end of it, you’re gonna be jolly as fuck, trust me.”

“Jolly as fuck,” he repeats, shaking his head on a laugh. “You’ve got a way with words, sunshine.”

“Thank you.” You push your tote bag onto your shoulder, fishing out your keys, they clink in your palm when you find them. “I’m not letting you back out of this, by the way. The list is binding.”

“Well in that case…”

You give Steve a little smile, the flash of a sunbeam, before heading out, and he’s left standing in the break room wondering what you’ve got on that list, why you seem to care so much about it.

Huffing, he supposes he’ll find out soon enough.

Steve definitely should not have told you that he’d never been ice skating before.

It all started when you’d been talking about that damn list at your most recent shift, a couple of days after he’d accepted the fact that he couldn’t back out of it (did he really want to?).

“Hey, you have a change of clothes in your bag, right?” You’d asked him in between families.

“Um… yeah. Why?”

“Because, Steve, our festivities begin today after work!” You clapped your hands together softly, excited and encouraging, yet delicate. “I haven’t quite decided what we’re starting with yet.”

“I thought you had a list.”

“I do! But it’s not in order,” you shrugged, “I’m more of a mood-based decision maker, anyways.”

“Of course you are,” he’d said, his usual sarcasm lighter, laced with something you couldn’t quite place.

“So I’m thinking we go skating-”

“Nope.”

“You can't say no to every idea I have. Then how will you get the Christmas experience?”

“I won’t say no to everything.” You looked at him like you didn’t believe him, so, quietly, he added, “it’s just, I’ve never been skating before.”

“Steve, that’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” you reassured him easily, your voice honest in a sort of natural way, like you couldn't lie even if you tried. “All the more reason to give it a try. The point is to have fun, not to be good at it. I’m really not that great, myself.”

“If I hate it, we’re leaving.”

“Deal.”

And that’s how he’d ended up here, standing next to you at the rental counter at the ice rink, telling some teenager his shoe size so he could get a pair of skates.

Steve looks at you as you talk to the teenager, paying before he even gets the chance. He looks at the hat you’ve got on your head, the way your jeans are cuffed just enough to let your snowman patterned socks peek out of your boots.

He realizes that he’s only ever really seen you in uniform, at the theater and as an elf, and he thinks, quickly, like a car driving by, that you look really pretty like this. With snowflakes stuck in your eyelashes and all.

Though he’s never said it, barely let himself think it, he’s always found you pretty in a sort of undeniable way, like it was just a fact. Now, he finds you pretty in a way that makes him feel it.

His heart beats like it feels it, too. The traitor.

“Thank you,” you say, grabbing both your and Steve’s pairs of skates. You turn to him, smiling like always, Christmas lights reflected in your eyes, “ready to go?”

“As I'll ever be,” he says, letting you lead the way to the benches by the rink.

He watches the way you tie your skates, copying your movements on his own pair, double knotting the bow at the end. When you stand, he stays seated for a moment, suddenly more nervous than before, because the last thing he wants to do is embarrass himself in front of you, in front of everyone around.

Like you can read his mind, you say, “it’s okay, the first step is only standing. It looks harder than it is, promise.”

“I feel like you’re lying to make me feel better.”

“Why don’t you just stand up and find out, then?”

He rolls his eyes, more at himself than you, and pushes himself up from the bench. It takes him a second to get used to the feeling of the skates, of balancing on them, but eventually, he nods at you, eager to get it over with.

“‘Kay, so it’s gonna feel weird when you step on the ice, but you can just hold onto the side until you get the hang of it.” You start walking ahead of him, turning back to say, “I have a feeling you’ll be a natural.”

“Sure you do,” he mutters, shaking his head.

The rink is outdoors, the walls surrounded with string lights of all kinds, twinkling and colorful. In the middle, there’s a big tree, a shining gold star sat on top. There’s a hot chocolate stand to the side, the smell mingling with the freshness of the cold.

There are Christmas songs playing over the speakers (of course), and Steve thinks that if he hears one more rendition of “Jingle Bell Rock,” he’ll have to invest in a pair of ear plugs. On top of that, there’s the sound of laughter, kids with their parents, friends, couples, everyone seems to be having fun.

Everyone seems to be at ease except for him.

You step onto the rink first, skating a couple of steps forward to give Steve room to get on. He holds onto the side like you told him to, lifting a foot and stepping forward slowly, his foot slipping a little when it hits the ice.

You don’t say anything, don’t pressure him, only stand there with a kindness in your eyes that tells him you won’t be anything but patient.

Still, he doesn’t take too long to get the other foot on the ice, too, his feet carrying him forward a little bit, his hand gripping the side tighter.

“See? It’s not so bad,” you skate to his side, leaving space between you as Steve holds out his arm for balance. “Now all you gotta do is push yourself forward.”

“You make it sound like it’s easy.”

“It’s called being encouraging, Steve. Let me be encouraging!”

“Fine,” he stares down at his feet, his hair falling over his forehead. “So what do I do?”

“Use one foot to push, and then let yourself glide, switch feet, and repeat. You can do it.”

He gives it a go, and finds that it isn’t awful, but he moves slowly, and looking around at the other people skating, he’s not an impressive skater at all.

Steve has always felt the urge to be good at everything he does, basketball, driving, even fucking babysitting. He’s always tried so hard to do things well, like maybe, if he was talented enough, his parents would care more, would finally be proud of him for something.

He swallows that thought down and pushes forward again.

You follow his speed, gliding easily beside him, “look at you go!”

“I look like an idiot,” he says, his arm outstretched beside him, the other gripping the side, his knees bent.

When you look at him, though, all you see is the pink of his cheeks and nose from the cold, the way his hair brushes against his forehead, the focus in his eyes, the determination. No, you don’t think he looks like an idiot at all.

“You look like you’re trying, and that’s a great look on you, Steve.”

This time, it isn’t only the cold that pinkens his cheeks.

He doesn’t have time to muster up a reply, because the next time Steve skates ahead, he stumbles, his balance wavering until he feels your hand grabbing onto his arm to help steady him.

Then, your hand moves to hold his, and even through the layers of both of your gloves, he feels the warmth in his fingertips, some sort of tingling.

“This way, if you fall, so do I,” you say, squeezing his hand once, winking at him like the thought of falling doesn’t scare you one bit.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Super sure.”

You hadn’t been lying on that one, because eventually Steve does fall, and you fall right along with him, landing on the ice with a little, “oop!”

On his back, Steve turns his head to look at you, your hair a mess around you, some on your cheeks. He reaches out and brushes it away.

“You okay, sunshine?”

The response he gets is the sound of your laughter, a single loud cackle that has your eyes widening and a hand smacking over your mouth.

Your laughter fades into a fit of giggles, one so infectious that Steve—surrounded by all kinds of Christmas-themed things he swore he hated—laughs along with you.

And for the first time, maybe in his entire life, Steve thinks that the holidays might not be the worst thing ever.

Steve’s in a bad mood today, that scrunch in his brows you'd thought had been easing away back in full force.

It’s your first shift back together since you’d been skating only a couple of days ago, and you can’t help but worry that maybe it was too much, that you’d pushed him too far.

Even though, at the time, he’d been smiling more than you’ve seen him smile maybe ever, and you really thought that you had a shot at making Christmas better for him. You worry that he wasn’t as happy as he seemed, that he was pretending to have fun for your sake.

Steve, on the other hand, is actually glad to be at work for once, glad for the distraction it gives him. He’s unaware that his emotions are so visible on his face, that you think an ounce of his annoyance and anger is aimed at you.

All he knows is that after the morning he had, he needs this distraction.

This morning, it wasn’t the beep of his alarm that had woken him up, but the shrill ring of the phone on his bedside table. Groggy, with his eyes still half shut, Steve picked up the phone.

He wishes he didn’t.

“Hello?” His voice was almost a groan, scratchy from sleep, irritated at being woken up earlier than his alarm.

“Steve, sweetie!” His mother’s voice made him squint his eyes shut further. “Why do you sound so tired?”

“‘Cause it’s six in the morning, mom.”

“Oh, silly me. I forgot about time zones,” she said, though she didn’t sound the least bit apologetic. She didn’t even care enough to know what time it was for her son. “Anyways, I’m calling to let you know your father and I won’t make it home for Christmas this year. There’s this banquet we just can’t miss. You understand, don’t you?”

Steve doesn’t know why he’d been surprised, doesn’t know why her words, completely devoid of any kind of empathy towards the situation, made his stomach hurt.

“Yeah, okay,” he’d said, because it was no use to do anything but agree.

This was his normal: an almost monthly phone call from one of his parents from wherever they are in the world, no matter the time, always telling him that they’re missing this holiday, his birthday (which, at this point, he was shocked they even remembered), anything.

“That’s my boy,” she’d said, as if she knew him at all. She didn’t. Hasn’t known him—or cared to—for a long time. “I knew you’d understand.”

“Right.”

“Oh, there’s your father. Gotta go.”

And just like that, she hung up.

Steve almost wishes that they’d never call at all, because maybe then it would be easier to swallow their neglect. If they’d just forget him completely, he could get rid of that stupid, tiny sprout of hope he feels whenever they call, hoping things will be different.

At least it was his mother this time, he thinks. His father is a hundred times worse, only ever disappointed in Steve, asking about his job or when he plans on ‘getting a real life,’ never about him.

So yeah, Steve’s in a bad mood today.

The two of you don’t talk for the majority of your shift, you, afraid that Steve’s angry with you, opting to give him space, and Steve, stewing in every negative emotion that comes along with a phone call from his parents.

You don’t talk until one of the last families in line for the day comes up.

Once the kids are in place, you lean down to look through the viewfinder, counting them down and snapping the picture when they say ‘cheese.’ To the side, the children’s mom looks at you with so much judgment, Steve, even brewing in his thoughts, notices.

With the picture taken, you take the camera over to the mom, letting her see the picture the way you do with all the parents, making sure they approve.

Instead of approval, what you get is, “what the hell is that?”

You’ve dealt with your fair share of rude customers, at every job you’ve had, but this woman all but screams at you, and that’s rare. “Sorry,” you say, “I can take a new one, no problem.”

“I better be getting the new one for free with how these pictures are looking,” she practically hisses at you.

Usually, you can handle stuff like this, can smack on a smile and politely agree to get things taken care of, but today, the mixture of all your self-doubt and worrying about messing things up with Steve and this mother shouting at you, things pile up, and you feel your happy mask slipping.

“Um,” you start, voice small.

“You elves get worse every year,” she says to you. “I can’t believe people this incompetent even exist.”

Steve, hearing the whole thing, is quick to step in front of you, any thoughts about his shitty parents quickly fading in favor of helping you.

“Excuse me, ma’am, but she already offered to take another picture, and if that isn’t good for you, you’re free to leave,” Steve’s voice doesn’t slip one bit, standing his ground with every word.

You’re overwhelmed with everything going on, and when Steve turns around to look at you, nodding his head towards the staff room, you take the escape he offers you quickly, eyes blurry with tears you won’t let fall until you’re alone.

“You can’t speak to me like that!” The woman stomps her foot.

“I can, actually. She,” he points in the direction you’d gone, “is the kindest person I know, and you shouldn’t speak to her that way. I understand the holidays are a stressful time for everyone, but we spend all day helping people like you take these pictures, and the least you could do is say ‘thank you.’”

Rather than respond, the woman takes her children’s hands and stomps off.

Steve turns to find that the few families that had been in line before have decided to leave, and he takes the emptiness of Santa’s Workshop as an opportunity to follow after you.

He finds you sitting on the bench beneath your cubby in the break room, head buried in your hands, sniffling a little like you’re trying to be as quiet as possible. Steve can’t think about anything other than how much he hates seeing you upset, like a cloud covering the sun.

“Hey,” he says gently, sitting beside you on the bench. “Don’t listen to any of that. She was a bitch.”

You’re both grateful and unhappy that Steve came after you. Grateful because he’s kind, because he’s showing you that he cares. Unhappy because you’re embarrassed of him seeing you like this, because he calls you sunshine and you don’t feel like that right now.

It takes a second before you move your hands, wiping at your cheeks before turning to look at Steve, his brown eyes already on your face, unbelievably soft.

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not,” he assures you. “She was awful to you after a long enough day. You have every right to be upset.”

“You’re being really nice,” your voice breaks a little bit, fighting any more tears that threaten to spill.

“I can be nice. I should be nicer to you.” He knows he should, but with Christmas and everything, it’s easy for him to be grouchy. “You sound surprised.”

“It’s just,” you shrug, almost defeated. “I thought you were mad at me today.”

Steve’s heart fucking aches at the sound of your voice, all small and lacking of the light he’s somehow come to like so much. And when another tear slips down your cheek, he can’t stop himself from reaching out and holding your face in his hands, thumbing the tear away lightly.

“I don’t think I could ever really be mad at you, sunshine.”

“Oh.”

His hands are warm where they hold your cheeks, a thumb still tracing back and forth over your skin. Not mad, then.

“I, uh,” Steve looks at where his thumb brushes against you, like he can’t believe it’s there, like he doesn’t want to look into your eyes for the next part. “I got a call from my mom this morning. They’re not coming home this year. Again. I shouldn’t be surprised but… anyways. That’s why I’ve been so quiet and shit today. Not because of you.”

One of your hands comes up to lay over his where it sits on your cheek, tangling your fingers with his and moving your hands down to your lap.

“I’m sorry, Steve.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry. I shouldn’t take this stuff out on you just because you like Christmas and I don’t.”

You smile a little bit, a twitch of your lips, but Steve takes it as a win all the same.

“I’m gonna change that,” you say.

“Sure you will,” he replies, the sarcasm in his voice still there the way it usually is when he teases you, but this time, he’s smiling, too.

Steve told you to go home after that, assuring you that he’d take care of the few families left, and when you’d opened your mouth to tell him you were fine, you could stay, he’d pinned you with a look and told you again to let him do it.

So, you did.

You’d thought it would be a day at least until you’d see Steve again, but it’s only a couple of hours after your shift ends.

There’s a knock at your door, your apartment one of the ones built above a shop on Main Street, and even though you have no idea who it could be, you get up, sock-covered feet padding against the floor as you go over to answer it.

You’re surprised to find Steve on the other side—one, because you don’t think you’ve ever told him where you live, and two, because you didn’t think he’d want to see you more today than he already had—a bag in his hand and a shy sort of question on his face.

“Steve? What are you doing here?”

He scratches at the back of his neck with his free hand before responding, a nervous gesture that he hasn’t been able to get rid of. “I thought that maybe, after the day you’ve had, you could use some cheering up. I could, too.”

You remember him telling you about the phone call from his parents, and something in your stomach flutters a little when you realize that his plans to cheer up involve you of all people.

“Okay.” You smile, you can’t really help it, “come in, then.”

He does, closing the door behind him and toeing off his shoes before stepping inside any further. Steve spots your kitchen table easily, and moves to set the bag he’s holding down.

“I thought we could do another thing that might be on your list,” he says. Steve tugs things out of the bag, gingerbread house kits, to be exact. “Gingerbread houses are Christmas bucket list worthy, right?”

“Absolutely,” you search his face, a little confused because last you heard, Steve was not into your whole bucket list thing, but here he is. “And you’re doing this… voluntarily?”

“I have the receipt. I can return them, if you prefer.”

“No! Don’t do that. I just mean- I thought you didn’t like Christmas or my list and that you were just playing along to be nice.”

“I might not be the biggest fan of Christmas, but,” he shrugs, opening one of the boxes of gingerbread, “you’re a good teacher, sunshine.”

You resist the urge to pinch yourself, like you might be dreaming because Steve, who you’ve grown to like an embarrassing amount, is here, offering to do this with you and giving you a compliment like it’s nothing.

When you respond, you hope your voice doesn’t give away how you really feel. Excited, happy, your heart jumping. “Can I get that in writing?”

“Shut up.” He shakes his head, pointing to the unopened box, “now will you come build this gingerbread house or what?”

“Mine’s gonna be way prettier than yours.”

Steve simply rolls his eyes, but there’s the hint of a smile there, too. He’s happy to see that your light is back, that you didn’t let what happened at work get to you too much.

You sit down beside each other at your table, gingerbread kits laid out in front of you. Icing and sprinkles, a cookie roof and chimney. You’re sure it’ll leave a mess, but right now you don’t mind.

There’s a sort of lightness in the air, the knowledge that this thing—friendship, more, whatever it is—between the two of you is something that you’re both happy to bask in. It’s unspoken, and that doesn’t bother you.

You and Steve start by unpacking all of the pieces, yours laid out neatly, his in a leaning pile that makes you bite back a laugh.

“The fucking roof won’t stay on,” Steve says once you’ve both started to put the houses together, and he sounds genuinely annoyed about it.

“Just put some more icing on it,” you say, “there’s no such thing as too much.”

“I don’t think icing will save me now, sunshine.”

You look away from your own gingerbread house over to Steve’s. His hands are holding the roof up, pushing them together so they meet at the top, and he’s staring at the thing with so much determination that you can’t help but giggle.

“You laughing at me?” Steve quirks a brow at you, but there’s a shine in his eyes. They smile even when his mouth doesn’t.

“I can’t believe you’re taking this so seriously,” you laugh, and that smile of his spreads slowly on Steve’s face, blooming like a flower. “It’s alright to admit defeat, Steve. My house is already better than yours.”

“Woah, this isn’t over yet, alright? Mine just needs time, don’t you worry.”

“Whatever you say, Steve.”

“Someone’s feeling brave tonight,” he teases, nudging you with his elbow without letting go of the roof of his house. “Don’t speak too soon, sunshine. I could be the underdog here.”

You lean over with your icing bag in hand, piping some more into the gap in Steve’s roof. “Here, let me help.”

Steve—always reluctant to accept help of any kind, even the smallest things—lets you. While he watches your face as you pipe the icing, the focus, the way your tongue pokes out from between your lips, you take his distraction as an opportunity to move, letting your icing fall onto his hand instead of the house.

“Oops,” you shrug, your tone suggesting that it wasn’t a mistake at all.

Steve gasps overdramatically, then leans closer to you, “Oh, looks like you’ve got something right there.” His hand reaches for your face, and he spreads the icing from it onto your cheek.

“You’re done for, Harrington.”

He only laughs, bright and quick.

Before you know it, you’re having some sort of food fight, putting a dot of icing on Steve’s nose, him tossing sprinkles at you. It’s a mess, but all you can hear is Steve’s laughter, all you can see is his smile. Unguarded for once, free and genuine.

By the time it dies down, there’s stripes of icing on your cheeks, red and green sprinkles scattered about the floor and on the table, and Steve’s got his own patches of icing to deal with.

“You better help me clean this, Harrington,” you say, your giggles still spilling, fizzling out softly. “What are we gonna decorate these houses with now?”

“Mine’s a lost cause,” he admits, the pieces now in a pile the way they’d started.

“So I won, is what I’m hearing.”

Steve looks at you, at the sparkle in your eyes that had been dimmed earlier at work, at the smile that spreads across your face when his eyes meet yours. Fuck. He thinks you’re completely beautiful, icing across your face and all.

His gaze snags on a piece of green in your hair, and before he can think about it, he reaches up and tugs it out for you.

“Sprinkle,” he says.

You look at his hands, messy from the gingerbread houses but never any less strong, and you remember how they felt in yours when you’d been skating. And when you flick your eyes back to his face, he’s already looking at you, gaze dipping to your mouth quickly, like he can’t help it.

And shit, you think. You really, really like this boy.

Before either of you can say anything more, you’re leaning towards each other, meeting in the middle and you’re not sure if you kiss him or he kisses you, but you end up with your mouths pressed together.

It’s featherlight at first, testing the waters. Then, Steve’s hands cup your jaw gently and pull you back to him, and you wouldn’t dream of doing anything but follow.

He kisses you again, still soft somehow, but more certain, his lips dancing with yours like you’ve done this a hundred times before.

You reach up and grasp his wrists in your hands, feeling his pulse under your thumbs. His heart is racing just as much as yours, you notice. Like your heartbeats have synced to a twin pattern, like this kiss was enough to do that.

And while you’re not sure what will happen after this, you know that something has shifted, that both of you are saying things you’re too afraid to say out loud.

When he pulls back, Steve presses one, two more pecks to your mouth, his thumbs tracing over your skin so lightly you might’ve dreamt it.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever think about kissing the same way after you. Steve feels warm the way he does when the sun beams on him in summer, and quickly, he thinks, I could get used to this feeling.

Then, he gets up and finds a small towel in one of the drawers by your sink, wetting it with warm water before coming back to sit with you.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says, using a finger to tilt your chin up, swiping the towel over your cheeks to get rid of the icing there as lightly as he can.

And that’s that.

December twenty-fourth is your last day at Santa’s Workshop. Christmas Eve snuck up quick, and tomorrow, the twenty-fifth, the mall will be closed.

You’ve always enjoyed the job, but this year’s been your favorite by far. Usually, you and your coworkers would get along just fine, talking during shifts and laughing but never expanding outside of work, but it’s completely different with Steve.

He knocked on your door with gingerbread houses in hand and kissed you like it meant something. You like him so much that it’s in your bones, this feeling he brings out of you, how special you feel when you think about the trust he’s shown you.

But looking back, you think you were screwed from the start. From his scrunched brows asking you if the bells on the elf shoes were really necessary, to confiding in you about his parents, that list you made that seemed to be the beginning of what things have grown into now.

Green elf hat lopsided on his head, Steve smiles at you from where he stands by the camera. You smile back without thinking, like it’s natural, an instinct.

“Alright,” he says, talking to the kids sitting on the bench with Santa. “Everyone say ‘cheese’ on three. One, two-”

“Cheese!”

The camera clicks, and then it’s onto the next, the system you and Steve have created moving along smoothly, family after family.

If someone told Steve when he’d started this job, grouchy and prepared to pout about it every day, that he’d grow to like it, that he’s realized he’ll miss it when it’s gone, he would’ve laughed in their faces.

Never in a million years did Steve think he’d come remotely close to enjoying being an elf, but he has (he still fucking hates the outfit, though). You have everything to do with his surprising not-so-hatred of the job, of his careful fondness growing towards the holidays.

It’s all because of you.

Christmas Eve is a busy day at Starcourt mall, parents rushing about for last minute presents, teenagers taking advantage of holiday sales, and families lined up for their Santa pictures they’d forgotten about until now.

You don’t get breaks between families often today, but once you do, you and Steve are next to each other, making imaginary backstories for random people that pass by, dramatically reading lips of conversations.

The next time there’s an opening, you walk over to Steve, holding up your fist as if there’s a microphone in it. “So, Steve, tell me, how does it feel to have survived December as a Christmas elf?”

“I feel like I should get an award, maybe,” he says into your fake microphone. “I’ve gotten two rashes from this scratchy outfit. Two! And I’ll never hear jingle bells the same again.”

You laugh before clearing your throat and getting back into your news anchor character, “wow. You heard it here folks, North Pole outfits are not luxurious.”

“No, they are not.”

Steve can’t help but grin as he looks at you, as he jokes around with you so easily it feels like he’s known you for years instead of a month. He supposes he has known you longer, but never the way he does now.

“Now, will you be returning to Santa’s Workshop in future Decembers, mister Harrington?”

“Well, that depends,” he says. “I think I’ll require a certain presence to be with me if I come back. Can’t survive it without my doses of sunshine.”

My doses of sunshine.

You’ve never reacted to words the way you do with Steve, but when he says things like that, how can you not react? He compliments you in these indirect ways that only you could understand, and this secret language of yours has your heart skipping, your world tinted-pink.

That one makes you break character, “really?”

“Really.”

Looking up at him, at those soft, melting brown eyes that have always told you more than anything else about him, at the fondness in them, you think about that kiss.

You haven’t spoken about it, but you haven’t felt the need to. It meant something, you know that much, and by the way Steve sneaks touches—a squeeze of your hand, a palm on your back—he does, too.

“You make Christmas better,” he tells you.

He leaves you with that as the next family walks up for their picture, but you don’t miss the way his eyes linger on you, his gaze spreading sparkles over your skin.

It’s hard to focus when all you can think about is him calling you sunshine in that soft voice of his he’s only used when you’re alone, but you have to, so it’s back to work you go.

You don’t get to speak much again until your shift is over, the Christmas Eve evening rush swooping in and keeping you both busy.

It’s bittersweet, walking to the back room for the last time from Santa’s Workshop. You’re excited for tomorrow, because it’s Christmas and it’s one of your favorite days of the year, but it’s hitting you now how much you’ll miss seeing Steve nearly every day.

You’ll still see him, of course you will. Whether it’s him getting you to help sneak kids into a movie or maybe something more, something for just the two of you. Either way, you’re at least sure of one thing: Steve Harrington is one of the best people you know.

He’s the first to speak as you step into the staff room. “I have something for you,” he says.

Steve scratches the back of his neck, the smallest hint of pink on his cheeks. He’s nervous, and it’s the sweetest thing. He reaches into his bag, pulling out a small box, a white ribbon tied in a bow around it, a little lopsided, like he’d tied it himself.

You take it from him, smiling down at the box, because no matter what’s in it, he cared enough to get you a gift and that’s what matters, that’s what you’ll hold onto.

“Really?”

“Open it, please.”

You listen, tugging the ribbon loose and opening up the small box. Inside, you find a delicate chain, the pendant in the shape of the sun.

“Steve.” It comes out in a breath, your eyes welling the tiniest bit because this is the best gift you’ve ever received. He’s a gift himself, looking at you shyly, searching your face for a reaction.

“Do you like it?” He asks, his voice soft. “If it’s too much I can-”

“It’s perfect,” you say, and you mean it. “Put it on for me?”

He flashes you a grin, the corners of his mouth tugging up as he nods and takes the necklace from you, undoing the clasp as you turn around and move your hair out of the way.

You can feel his warmth against your back as he drapes the necklace over your collar, his fingers brushing the back of your neck as he fiddles with the clasp.

“There you go,” he says, taking a small step back to give you room to spin back around to face him.

You look down at the sun pendant sitting against your skin, touching it lightly. Steve’s actions speak volumes, and this one makes you feel so many things. But above it all, you feel like his.

He watches your face as you look at the necklace, the slope of your nose and the softness of your cheeks. The flutter of your lashes and the smile you don’t even try to hide. He’s been resisting the urge to kiss you since he’d done it the first time, but it’s stronger than ever now, with his present around your neck.

Your eyes meet when you look back up at him, his brown ones never failing to show how he feels, and your heart skips with how he looks at you. Like he cares, like he doesn’t intend on stopping.

He brushes your hair over your shoulder, fingertips gentle as ever when they brush against the side of your neck.

“I love it, Steve, really. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sunshine.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything, I didn’t expect-”

“Hey,” he cuts you off, his hand shifting to hold yours, fingers lacing with yours easily, “you’ve given me so much.”

Steve doesn’t know how he got lucky enough to get paired with you for this job, how he got lucky enough to have someone look past his slight grumpiness and really see him. You’ve given him Christmas as a whole, erasing bad memories, replacing them with new ones, and he doesn’t think any present could repay you for that.

“Oh wait!” You squeeze his hand before letting go and heading towards your bag, digging until you find what you’d been looking for. You hand Steve a folded piece of paper, “you should have this.”

As he unfolds it, he realizes it’s the bucket list you’d made for him what feels like forever ago, glitter and all. There are activities with check marks beside them, the ones you’d completed, and he shakes his head with the smile he seems to only wear when you’re around.

Very last on the list, your handwriting spells out words that make his chest feel light, his heart full.

‘Make next Christmas just as good.’

Steve finally stops holding himself back and kisses you for the second time, and you’re both certain it won’t be the last.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

thank you for reading!! if you enjoyed, please please consider leaving a reblog or comment and let me know what you think! it would mean a bunch <3

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stayteezdreams · 6 months

Text

Mistletoe Mischief

Plot: Yunho takes every opportunity he can to kiss you under the mistletoe, even if that means him following you around with it.

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Gn!Reader

Warnings: Kissing (obvs). Mention of wrists being held down (in playful and romantic way)

Words: 1.4k

As you stared into the cupboard, deciding what you wanted to eat, you failed to hear the soft footsteps creeping up behind you. Grabbing a small bag of your favorite chips, you closed the cupboard and turned around, jumping in surprise.

Yunho stood directly behind you, amused grin on his face and hands behind his back. You let out a sigh of annoyance as you placed your and on your chest.

"What are you sneaking up on me for?"

You rose your brow as he continued to smile at you in silence, mischief in his gaze.

Slowly, he brought his hand out from behind his back as he stepped forward to corner you against the counter. Seeing the mistletoe in his hand, you almost rolled your eyes as you barely refrained from chuckling.

"Yunh-"

Before you could get anything else out, he suddenly swooped down and kissed you. You grunted in surprise as you pushed him away, letting out a bewildered chuckle.

"Yunho, stop!" You failed to sound serious as you giggled at his actions.

Yunho chuckled as well as he tried to kiss you again. Successfully dodging his attacks you dipped underneath his arm and ran out of the kitchen with a laugh, Yunho grinned to himself as he watched you flee.

You shook your head in amused annoyance at Yunho's actions. That had been the fourth time he kissed you under the mistletoe. Apparently the first time after you hung it in the doorway was not enough for him. As he decided to instead, carry it around with him and kiss you whenever he wanted, often catching you by surprise.

The second time had been when you were reading something on your phone. You felt him tap your shoulder and when you looked up, he kissed you, mistletoe in hand and grin on his face.

The third time was about half an hour ago, when you had exited the shower, only to be suddenly scooped into his arms and kissed again.

His actions were undoubtedly cute, and quite romantic, but you knew he had no intention of stopping, which meant it would become more of a nuisance the longer it went on.

Not long later, you encountered him again. As you headed down the hall, Yunho stepped out from his office and blocked your path.

You locked eyes for a moment before you quirked your brow, "What?"

"What?" He repeated, innocence in his tone you knew you couldn't trust.

You squinted suspiciously at him before you tried to walk past, only for him to step in front of you. Stepping to the other side, he only followed suit. After this repeated two more times you huffed.

"What are you doing?"

He grinned happily, "You have to pay the tax."

"Tax?"

He nodded, as he pulled out the mistletoe. You bit you lip to repress the smile that threatened to form.

"Yunho." You kept your tone level, serious.

"Y/n." He repeated in the same tone.

You closed your eyes as you let out a soft breath, "You're ridiculous."

He grinned as he tilted his head sideways, "I know but you love me."

You shook your head as your smile broke out. "Fine."

After quickly leaning up to kiss him, you made your way past him before he could stop you again. You could hear his soft chuckle as you disappeared down the hall.

His attacks continued for the next couple of hours as he surprised you with the mistletoe at any opportunity he could. When you were reading, eating, when you were on the phone, any time you walked into the room he was waiting around the corner.

Finally, when he had his own phone call to take, you spotted the mistletoe on the table and quickly grabbed it. Hiding it in the washing machine, you figured he wouldn't find it. You smiled to yourself as you sat down on the couch and began scrolling on your phone.

It wasn't long before you spotted Yunho entering the room, confused look on his face as he obviously scanned the living room for the mistletoe.

He checked the table, then the couch, then the kitchen before he walked past again, patting his pockets.

"Lose something?" You asked as casually as you could as you watched him searching.

He met your eye, and obviously did not suspect you as you appeared genuinely curious.

He shook his head, "Nope."

You rose your brow, "Okay."

His lack of suspicion did not last as he appeared a few minutes later. "Did you hang the mistletoe up somewhere?"

You met his eyes and shook your head, "No, you're the one whose been carrying it around with you all day."

He hummed under his breath as he casually walked over to you on the couch.

He eyed you closely and you stared at him, "What?"

Reaching over to you, he started feeling your pockets and reaching into your sweater sleeves.

"Yunho!" You said with a laugh while attempting to swat him away.

Finally, he moved to check in between the couch cushions and under the pillows.

He let out a sigh before he placed his hands on your shoulders. "Where is it?"

You shook your head innocently, "I don't know."

He glared half-heartedly as he brought his hands to your sides, "I'll give you to the count of three."

"I don't have it Yunho."

"One..."

"Two..."

"Three!"

As he reached three he began squeezing and tickling your sides, causing you to drop your phone and desperately try to protect yourself. As you laughed and yelled out in alarm, Yunho continued his attack before you finally yelled out.

"Fine! Fine! I hid it, but I'm not telling you where it is!"

Yunho laughed as he stopped tickling you, instead pressing his forehead against yours.

"Is that so?"

You nodded your head, and he only grinned wider. Adjusting himself so he was sitting on top of you, caging you against the couch, you saw a familiar mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"What are you doing?"

He leaned forward, bringing his mouth next to your ear. "I don't need mistletoe to kiss you."

Suddenly he began kissing you everywhere. Neck, cheek, nose, forehead, and lips.

You failed to hold back your giggles from the onslaught of kisses, failing to push him away as he grabbed and held your wrists.

"Yunho!" You yelled out in a fit of giggles, causing him to finally stop after placing one last kiss to your lips.

You leaned forward, pushing your face into his chest in case he started again. He laughed as he held you against him instead, placing one last kiss on the top of your head.

After a moment of silence he spoke again, "Did it really bother you that much? The mistletoe?"

Pulling away from him and leaning your head back back on the couch you smiled up at him and shook your head. "No, you've just been bombarding me with it so much I thought I'd get back at you a bit."

He pouted dramatically as he gently held your hands. You laughed and shook your head.

"You can't have it back until tomorrow. And I'm limiting the kisses to ten!"

He leaned back as he sighed dramatically making you giggle.

"Only ten?" He asked softly with a pout as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours again.

His puppy dog eyes shined brightly as you rolled your eyes, but gave in. "Okay, fifteen."

"Hmmm, how about fifty?"

"Fifty!?" You laughed.

"What?! Don't I normally kiss you a lot more than fifty times a day?"

You shook your head and he frowned. "Really? I gotta up my boyfriend game then."

You laughed as you gently smacked his shoulders. "You do, but not with the mistletoe."

He grinned as he placed a soft kiss to your lips. "Okay. So... fifteen kisses with the mistletoe, and unlimited without?"

You laughed before groaning, "You're impossible."

He chuckled as he settled on the couch beside you, wrapping you in his arms and pressing his face into your neck. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you held him close.

"Guess what?" He mumbled a moment later.

"What?"

As he shuffled around a bit, you watched as he suddenly held something up.

"Wha-"

He chuckled into your neck as he dangled the mistletoe playfully, "I found it a long time ago."

You groaned as you lied your head back on the couch, only for him to reach his hand around the back of your neck and make you look at him. He held the mistletoe above your head as he grinned mischievously.

"The fifteen limit doesn't start until tomorrow right?"

xx End xx

General Taglist: @otsilliak, @brattybunfornct, @bahng-chrizz, @otakutrash669

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#yunho x reader #yunho/reader #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho/reader #ateez x reader #ateez/reader #yunho fic #yunho fluff #12 Days of Christmas #jeong yunho fic #yunho imagine #jeong yunho imagine #ateez imagine #ateez fluff #ateez oneshot #ateez fic #ateez one shot #yunho oneshot

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the-offside-rule · 6 months

Text

Lando Norris (McLaren) - Dress Up

Day 8 of Christmas

“Please, don’t make me wear this.” Lando mumbled. “Oh come on! Liam is gonna love this.” Y/n grinned as she adjusted the beard on her boyfriend's face. “He’s gonna know it’s me.” Lando protested. “Hes going to me too excited to tell. All you have to do is come in, and let him sit on your lap.” Y/n explained the plan. “You can sit on my lap.” Lando winked as she just stared back at him in an annoyed fashion. “You’re no fun.” He muttered, letting her fix the minor details on his Santa suit. It was a drunk idea of his to buy a Santa suit to surprise Y/n's nephew. The plan was the drive into the driveway in his road car, then hop out with presents and stuff for the kid. The couple completely forgot about it until the suit arrived to their home a few days ago.

"He's gonna be home with mum any minute, so just go along with it!" Lando's hands dropped to Y/n's waist as she fixed his beard. "Don't try anything." Y/n warned. "I'm not doing anything." He replied, knowing damn well he was far from innocent. "Babe, get your hands off now." She chuckled. "But when I'm not doing anything, why should I?" She looked up slightly and was met with his adoring eyes. "Don't look at me with those eyes." She said. "What eyes?" He chuckled, leaning in ever so close. "Lando. They're bound to come back any second, now." He grinned. "Just one kiss." Y/n couldn't help but give in. Her arms flung around his neck and closed the gap between them, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. It was all going fine....that was until-

"Y/n!" Y/n and Lando jumped away from eachother from the sudden voice. Her mum stood in the doorway holding various bags while Liam stood excitedly by her side. "Woah! Y/n, you kissed Santa!" Liam said running towards them. "No, I- Liam I would never! I'm with Lando, remember?" Y/n tried to convince him he hadn't saw her kiss Santa, but he did and that was that. "Nana saw it too!" He said gleaming with joy. "No, she didn't!"

"I wish I didn't." Her mum mumbled. Y/n shot her a look. "Come on, let's just meet him. How's that sound?" Lando nailed the Santa look. He nailed everything, for the whole 20 minutes he was there. "I have to go now, Liam." Lando said in a deeper voice. "But, what is your biggest wish?" Liam thought for a moment before he pulled Lando down towards him and whispered into his ear. Lando looked up to Y/n, almost shocked before smiling. "I'll work my magic and I'll make sure it happens." He replied, patting him on the head. "Bye Santa!" Liam grinned, hugging the big man before he left out the front door and quickly running by the side as to not let Liam see.

As Y/n's mother settled down her grandson, Y/n snuck out the back to help Lando sneak back inside. She opened the shed door and there stood Lando taking his beard off. "Hello, Santa." Y/n smiled. "Have you been naughty or nice?" He grinned. Y/n rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the bright red suit. "Come on, before you freeze to death." After carefully sneaking him back in, Lando began changing. "So, I think you should wear some "Do you wanna help me out of it?" Lando asked in a suggestive tone. "My whole family is do better!" Y/n replied, slapping his chest playfully and walking away. "You love me really!" Lando called out. "I did cheat on you with Santa, though. Didn't I?"

As Christmas day finally came, the family all sat by Lando and Y/n's tree to open the gifts. Both sides of the family were there which was different, but a nice change. Liam and Landos niece Mila got to open their gifts first before everyone else did too. Y/n took the moment in. They should bring both families over to Monaco more often in all honesty. It's just too magical. "Did you get my present yet?" Lando whispered. Y/n smiled and shook her head. "No, I don't think so." Lando bent down u der the tree, searching frantically for his gift before pulling out a small wrapped box and handing it to her. "What's this? Earrings?" Y/n smiled as she tore the wrapping off the small parcel Lando had given her. "Just open it." He replied.

Y/n looked at the black box with gold writing on it.

Lando & Y/n

Est. 2019

She smiled at Lando. It was probably a necklace with a photo of them inside it. "Well, open it." Her mum egged her on, holding her phone out. Y/n turned to see Lando's mum doing the exact same thing. She opened the box, rather confused at the fuss before she fully understood. There in the velvet inside casing was a beautiful and dainty diamond ring, with Lando and Y/n's initials and anniversary date printed on the inside of the band. She looked over to Lando, who shifted from his seat and down to one knee. Her hands covered her mouth.

"Y/n, I love you so much. And we have been on one hell of a ride together so I wanted this Christmas to be our most special and ask you to be my wife by the next, if you'll accept." Lando said, taking the box into his hand. "Of course, you muppet!" Y/n replied through tears. As Lando placed the ring on her finger, their families rejoiced and the couple kissed. Their first of many kisses an fiancées.

Later on whilst the family were getting ready for Christmas dinner, Lando helped Y/n get ready in their room when a question that had been bugging Y/n all day came up. "Lando?" She asked. Lando looked up from his watch. "Yes, my love?" She smiled at his pet name for her. "Why did you ask me today?" Lando grinned and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling jnto her neck. "Let's just say, a certain little boy had a dream of making Lando Norris his Uncle officially."

#f1 blurb #f1 imagine #f1 oneshot #f1 oneshots #lando norris one shot #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris imagines #lando norris x you #lando norris x oc #lando norris x y/n #lando norris #christmas fanfic #christmas fic #christmas

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months

Text

Family Affair

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, violence, humiliation, biting, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your sister surprises you with good news but you find it difficult to be happy for her. (older, short reader)

Character: Curtis Everett

Note: Happy Curtmas.

For @the-slumberparty Naughty or Nice Challenge.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Chatter buzzes from the front room as you brace the wall and lift your foot to unzip your wedge boot. You’re late and the guests are already in the throes of their celebration. You wiggle off both boots and set them amid the clutter of many. As you stand straight and gather up your gift bags and purse, you’re met with an unexpected sight.

You lift a brow, slightly confused by the unfamiliar man. He’s tall, his hair is cut short, and dark stubble adds definition to his well-formed jaw. His eyes are a bold shade of aquamarine but are glossed over with an almost indifferent gleam. He doesn’t say a word as your eyes meet and he just as quickly turns into the front room, hands tucked into the pockets of his black jeans.

It’s been a few years. You’re sure a lot has changed. You head down the hall, past the broad archway of the front room, and into the kitchen. As usual, your mother is there, readying another tray of finger foods.

She looks up from her intent work and gives a wide smile, “you’re here!” She chimes, “I was half-waiting for a call saying you wouldn’t make it.”

Her arrow hits the bullseye of your guilt. You haven’t been the most reliable. You can make excuses; the divorce, work, depression. None of that can assuage her.

“Sorry, mom,” you go to put the gift bags down and she stops you with a tut.

“Ah, ah, you go add those to the pile and say hello,” she demands, “you’re not hiding in here.”

You look at her, almost desperate. You love her but sometimes you wonder if that feeling is mutual. As much as she’s right, you hoped she might have some empathy. She’s been through a turbulent split, she’s had to start again, but she expects you to do it flawlessly. As she has anything else.

“Love you, mom,” you give a sheepish smile.

“Love you too, hon,” she goes back to arrange the spiral of cocktail weenies, “make sure you say hello to your sister. She’s so excited to see you.”

You nod and a real smile breaks through. That was the one light at the end of the tunnel. Your baby sister was always your favourite. Despite nearly two decades between you, she’s your best friend. In a way, you feel like a second mother, taking pride in her like you would a child of your own.

The front room is filled to the brim. Aunt Geri and Uncle Val sit on a sofa with their son, Miko. A cluster of similarly aged cousins stand at the edge of the couch chatting. Aunt Maureen argues with Aunt Kaya, and the latter’s husband stands by the window with a glass in hand and his mind a million miles away.

You always found yourself out of place at these things. When you were a child, you were the youngest one in the room. Too immature to understand the dialogue of your elders. As you got older, the other cousins came along and were too young for your angsty teenage self. Now, you’re caught in the desert between the eras; the retirees complain too much and the coeds talk too loud.

You peer around. A set of broad shoulders draws your eye in the corner of the room. It’s that same man you saw before. He has his back to you as he maintains a casual posture. As he leans on one leg, you see your sister, Adeline, gabbing to him. Oh, he must be with her…

As you drop your gifts under the tree, you mull the revelation. You suppose the assumption wasn’t obvious. At first glance, he’s older than her, or maybe he just looks it. She’s still a sophomore in college but you suppose that makes even more sense. These are the years she gets to figure it all out.

You face the room and stop as Aunt Maureen latches onto your arm, blindsiding you with Kaya as they close in like hyenas.

“There she is,” Maureen slurs.

“Not too good for us after all, huh?” Kaya challenges.

“What? No, uh, Merry Christmas–”

“Where’s Benny?” Maureen interrupts. You blanch, nearly choking on your tongue. The mention of your ex-husband has you breathless.

“Maur,” Kaya hisses, “remember…”

“Probably with his new girlfriend,” you say tersely.

“Oh my,” Maureen lets you go and slaps her forehead, “I’m so sorry. The wine…”

“It’s… okay,” you shrug. “Not talking about it won’t undo it.”

“He was such a charming man,” Maureen hums mournfully. You blink at her.

“His loss,” Kaya pats your arm gently, trying to clean up her sister’s mess. You know they all think the same. You had a good thing and you blew it. Even if you told them he fucked his co-worker, you’d be the one who threw it all away.

“Pity you never got a kid outta him,” Maureen sighs.

“Really, divorce has been final for a year, I’m good,” you insist and shuffle past them, “I’m going to make the rounds.”

“Don’t forget to have some wine,” Maureen calls after you, “takes the edge off disappointment, you know?”

You growl and shake your head as you stalk away. You wave hello to your other aunt and uncle, hoping to avoid a similarly humiliating encounter, and weave through the sea of guffawing cousins. You come out on the other side as Adeline beams up at her guest.

Her gaze is drawn by your movement and her face lights up. She bounces in place and throws her arms out. She rushes past the man and has you wrapped up in a hug. It’s kind of ridiculous how much taller she is. You’re supposed to be the bigger sister.

“You’re here!” She rocks you in her embrace, “eek! I’m so excited.”

You croak out a breath as she squeezes the air out of you. She releases you with a giggle, apologising as she steps back. She wears a long tulle skirt and a beaded sweater. She’s beautiful. You could never pull something like that off, even twenty years ago.

“Oh, oh, you have to meet Curtis,” she snatches your hand and tugs you over the tall man as he turns to face you. Those same vague eyes fall upon you, “Curtis, this is my sister!”

“Curtis,” you repeat, “it’s nice to meet you.”

You look between them with a brittle smile. He offers his hand as he returns the sentiment. You shake, his palm rough and calloused. Adeline vibrates with joy.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says.

“And I’ve heard nothing about you,” you grin at Adeline, “Addy?”

“I’m sorry,” she cups her cheeks guiltily, a sparkle on her ring finger. Your heart drops. “I didn’t know how to– the divorce and–”

“Ad,” you wisp and nearly sway on your feet, “what is that?”

You point to her hand and she quickly swipes it away, hiding it behind her back. “Nothing,” she gulps, the same way she did when she was a child and you caught her playing with your makeup.

There’s a tense silence as you gape in shock. Your mouth hangs open as you search for the words. Your eyes tinge with hot tears but you swallow them back.

“Congratulations,” you draw her into a hug, “really, I’m happy for you.”

She hugs you back, gentler than before. As you part, she looks nervous. Curtis clears his throat.

“Both of you,” you offer him a fragile smile. “I’m sorry, I’m just a little… shocked. Does mom know?”

Adeline nods as she clasps her hands together. You take a breath, and calm yourself. It’s not anything that she fears, you’re not jealous. You’re nervous, you’re afraid for her. It’s a big thing and she’s so young.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around to share the good news,” you say, “I’d love to help, if I can?”

“We got it,” Curtis insists.

“Oh,” you wince, “I didn’t mean– I could help with the planning or the engagement part–”

“We’re eloping,” he crosses his arms, “we’re not wedding people. Whole lot of money and fanfare for nothing.”

You nod, holding back your surprise as best you can. Nothing? It’s marriage. Even if they don’t want a big ceremony, it means something.

“I could help pay for the trip–”

“I got it,” he enunciates each word as he sidles over to sling his arm around your sister’s back. She looks away meekly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep. She’s my sister, I just want to–”

“If you wanted to help, you would’ve been around the last two years,” he interjects.

Adeline’s head snaps around as she gives him a look. She nudges him with her elbow and whispers his name. He glares at you as you wilt. You’re not sure what you’ve done or said.

“Well, I think maybe me and Addy can talk about that,” you look at your sister, “when you have a chance, of course. I don’t want to spoil the holiday.”

“Adeline,” he corrects you, “Addy is so juvenile.”

The benefit of the doubt splinters as his tone cuts through you. You bite your tongue. Perhaps a twenty-one year old is juvenile to someone his age. You’ll talk to Addy about that too.

“Adeline,” you force a smile, “I… I’m going to go check on mom.” You show a palm in deference as you excuse yourself, “we’ll catch up later.”

As you back away, your eyes meet Curtis’. He watches you with a scowl. You are taken completely off balance. How could she end up with someone like him? She’s so sweet and he’s so scary…

Maybe she’s afraid too.

🎄

Christmas Eve ends much the same as you remember. The elders sit around the dining table to play cards as the kids, now adults, disperse in the living room or outside to entertain themselves. There’s a vague stench near the front door that no one will comment on but everyone knows what it is as it wafts in from outside.

You find yourself in limbo, once more caught in the in-between. You hole up in the kitchen, staring at the kettle as you wait for it to tremble. You won’t be missed if you take a tea up to your assigned room without a good night.

You lean on the counter and sigh, your finger brushing over the brim of the white porcelain cup with the hen on it. Strange how your mother’s house never seems to change but your life is inextricably altered. Your melancholy dims the cheery decor around you as you wallow away from the voices of the merry.

“There you are,” Adeline startles you as she sweeps in, “oh, is there any of the hot choccy left?”

You smile at her question. Everything about her reminds you of the time passed, of her newfound adulthood, yet she’s just the same little girl you always knew. You turn and pull the tin forward, “one packet left, just for you.”

You pull it out and face her again. She pulls out a mug from the cupboard and sets it down. The kettle hums between you as it heats up.

She exhales as you linger in a tense silence. You both have so much to say but neither of you know where to start. She finds her words first. Despite being younger, she was always the more outspoken.

“Do you like him?” She asks.

You poke your tongue into your cheek, “well, I’ve barely spoken to him. He seems to like you though.”

Her cheeks bulb as she grins bashfully, “I love him.”

Your chest seizes as you recognize that glimmer in her eye. She’s genuine, she feels that love so deeply it consumes her. It’s a naive love but real nonetheless. The sort you can’t see for what it is until it turns sour.

“I can tell,” you reach forward to fix the bow on her headband, “I’m happy for you. And my offer still stands. Maybe if it’s not the wedding, a honeymoon, or help with a house…” you wet your lips and steady your voice, “I only want you to be happy, Addy– Adeline.”

“Oh, he’s just… he’s like that. I can’t even call him Curt. He balances me out,” she beams.

“Yeah,” you say noncommittally.

“What?” Her voice dampens.

“Nothing,” you distract yourself with the variety of tea bags in the wooden chest next to the breadbox, “it’s… a lot. I’m surprised, is all. I just hope it goes well.”

She sniffs and lets her breath out long and heavy, “I’m sorry, I knew– he kinda said you’d probably be upset. After Benny–”

“This has nothing to do with him,” you narrow your eyes at her, a bag of chai in your hand, “this is about you. I only want what’s best for you.”

“He’s so good to me, you don’t have to worry.”

“I can worry, you’re my baby sister,” you insist, “and…” You shake your head, refusing to let the thought escape.

“And what?” She challenges, her pitch squeaking.

“Nothing.”

“No, tell me. I can always tell when you’re dying to say something. What?”

You shrug, “it’s just… how old is he?”

She scoffs, “wow.”

“What? I’m just asking.”

“It’s not like he’s old enough to be dad,” she pouts and crosses her arms.

“I know, I didn’t mean– Ad–Adeline, I just— you have time to figure it out. So I hope you’re not rushing this.”

“I’m not,” she snips, an uncharacteristic edge in her voice.

“I believe you… but what about him?”

She’s quiet as the kettle clicks, signalling the boiling point. You turn and drop the tea bag into your cup and pour the water. She tears open the packet and empties it into her own mug.

“Sorry,” you utter, “forget it. I… I don’t know him so maybe I need to get to know him. I’m here, Ad, and I will always be here for you.”

She nods and reaches for the kettle, not looking at you.

“Really, I trust you. I just worry about you,” you clap your hand on her shoulder, “you’re my lil teddy bear.”

She chuckles and looks down at you, your statement made absurd by the difference in your heights.

“And you’re the big grizzly, scaring off the wolves,” she kids back.

“Adeline,” the deep rumble thunders in ahead of the man, making both of you jump. You pull back your hand as Curtis strides in, “hey, I’ve been waiting on you.”

“Oh, sorry, baby,” she preens at him, “I was just–”

“You said we’d call my family after dinner,” he interrupts.

“I forgot,” she squeals, “oh, I’m so sorry.” She glances over at you, “I did promise.”

“Go on,” you try to smile but you’re not sure it’s showing.

She spins and flits over to Curtis. His eyes meet yours over her shoulder. His brows arch as his jaw is set in stone. A chill runs up your spine at the ice in his dark pupils. He grabs Adeline’s hand and drags her out.

You’re left in silence. You look over at the unmixed powder floating in the steaming water. You chew your lip as you stare at it. It’s just hot chocolate but there’s something about her abandoning something she loves so much for him. You try not to let your own failed marriage echo over her relationship, but it just feels off.

Well, Benny always did say you never did handle change very well.

🎄

The night before Christmas is rarely a restful one. Even without the childish belief in Saint Nick, you find yourself awake, anxious but not for presents. You keep replaying the night through your head; not the awkward interactions with aunts and uncles, or the silent judgment from the younger crowd, but Adeline and Curtis. Let it go, it’s none of your business.

You huff and roll on your back. Sleep eludes you. You sit up and bend over the side of the bed. You hold your head. You’ll sneak out the bathroom and hopefully an empty bladder will help.

You drag your feet across the floor, the legs of your pajama pants too long and trailing down your feet. You open the door and yawn as you enter the hall, only to collide with another unexpected barrier. Before you can react, you’re being forced back into the guestroom, stumbling as your fingers claw at the door frame and slip off.

A hand smothers your mouth, rough against your lips, as a foot kicks the door shut with a sharp click. You murmur into the calloused flesh as an arm loops around your back, trapping you as you’re urged further into the dark. You grasp at the cotton clinging to muscular shoulder. You’re kept off balance by your attacker’s certainty.

“I fucking heard you,” Curtis’ silty grit seeps into your ears, “you think I’d hurt her?” He snarls as he stops you at the foot of the bed. His shadow looms over you, breath puffing from his nostrils as he growls like a beast, “I wouldn’t, but I’ll hurt you.”

He pushes you back so your legs meet the side of the bed. You teeter and clasp your hand around his wrist, squeaking as he easily takes you down onto the mattress. He pins you, your legs hanging off the end, kicking weakly as his other hand curves around your throat.

He bends over you, straddling your chest heavily. You can’t breathe. Your heart pounds until your ears throb. Your temples pulse violently and your throat dries to a sandy scrape.

“Stay out of my fucking business,” he snarls, sliding down your body.

You whimper into his hand as he drops his knees off the bed, holding himself over you. He squeezes your neck, choking out your voice as he drags his hand from your mouth. He feels along your chest and flicks open the top button of your shirt. Your eyes wet in horror.

“Fucking show you…” he sneers as his breath scours over your flesh.

Another button undone as his lips tick along your shoulder. You squeak once more as he sinks his teeth into your flesh, biting a mean pinch until you spasm. The pain is unbearable. You feel the skin break as the hot flow of blood mingles with his spit.

He detaches only to bite you again. You can’t make a noise as his grip grows tighter on your neck. Even if you could scream, you’re too terrified and confused to understand what he’s doing. He’s like an animal tearing you apart.

He lays a tortured path down your chest, lingering on the rise of flesh, gnawing into the tenderness there. His nails dig into your side, pushing up your shirt as he scratches hot lines into your skin. You push on his shoulders desperately but he’s too strong.

“Stop filling her head with your bitterness,” he growls before he bites into your nipple.

You shake and beat on his head, shoulders, and back. You writhe and wrestle, trying to free yourself from him. He continues on, down your stomach, lingering on the soft flesh as his fingers hook into the elastic of your pants.

Your panic overflows with your tears. This can’t be happening. Why would he do this? He could talk to you? You would listen. You didn’t say anything wrong, you just want Adeline to be careful.

The very thought of your sister throttles you. Does he do this to her? Is this why she’s so defensive? The idea makes you sick to your stomach.

He lifts himself, his weight centering on your neck. You think he’ll crush your windpipe as he looms over you, snarling in the blackness. He pushes you higher onto the bed, forcing your legs open with his knees.

“Don’t make a fucking noise or I’ll make sure you can’t,” he threatens, giving a last squeeze before slowly slackening his grip.

You hold your breath. You believe him. Your body goes limp and you close your eyes. The bed shifts as he sits back on his heels. He pulls your pants down your thighs and you whine. He hushes you, a harsh tap across your cheek to get his point across.

You let your head drift to one side as you clench the blanket beneath you in tight fists. He keeps your legs trapped in your pants, knees bent as the fabric strains across his stomach. He tilts and movies around, his fingernails scratching the back of your thighs.

“Bet the husband couldn’t stand your fucking mouth,” he snarls as he pushes roughly against your cunt. “Didn’t know how to train you.” He jams two fingers into you, jolting your entire body, “dry bitch like you, he was probably thirsty as fuck.”

You seal your eyes tight, tears trickling through as a sob bubbles in your throat. You want to tell him to stop. You want to ask why. You want to scream. You can’t do anything as your body locks up.

He fingers you meanly, pulling his fingers out only to ram them in again, each time his knuckles hit you painfully. He keeps it up, growling with each intrusion as your muscles knots and pathetic noises rise from your throat.

He forces your legs higher, tearing his hand away from your pelvis. He adjusts his knees and you feel something else against your cunt.

“No…” you whisper right as he ruts into you.

He splits you apart around him. You let out a holler and he quickly silences you with a crack of his knuckles. The back of his hand snaps off your cheek and turns your head to the other side. You gulp and sob, choking back any noise that threatens to bubble over.

He holds himself as deep as he can. He puts his large hands on your shoulders and pins you flat. He bucks, agony rippling up your spine. He snaps his hips, again and again, each time harder than the last.

“This is what you need. So fucking jealous, aren’t you? Dried up old bitch,” he pumps into you as his breath picks up, “why kind of sister are you, huh? Fucking your baby sister’s man. Fucking slut.”

You cover your face and heave. You’re drowned in pain and humiliation. You’re disgusted with him for doing this to you; and yourself for letting him.

“You don’t wanna hurt her, do you?” He growls, “that’s why this is happening… cause you wanna keep her safe, right?”

He puts his hand against your head and pushes it down into the bed, fucking you into the mattress. The frame pounds the wall, matching his furious rhythm. You reach to brace his thick arm, begging silently for it to end.

“Oh, it’ll be over soon,” he rasps as his hand once more frames your throat, “fuck, you got me ready to blow quicker than I thought.” He puffs, each thrust rattling your bones, “I love how weak you are.”

#curtis everett #dark curtis everett #dark!curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #one shot #snowpiercer #au #christmas #naught or nice

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