#i kept looking at his hat .the little peppermint

[artaelyn]

Your friend? Oh yeah i stirred him into my hot cocoa and dissolved him. Yeah, yeah he gave it a peppermint flavour. Yes, he was really tasty. Sorry

[sanjisblackasswife]

Hey first off, GIRL YOUR WRITING IS GREAT AND I LOVE YOUR HEADCANONS, but anyways I wanted to request a gf headcanon Mihawk x black/mexican (I'm mixed) fem reader if that's okay. Please and thanks.

A/N: OH STAWP— ur too kind! And ofc :)❤️‍🔥 U didn’t specify sfw or nsfw so I’ll do both if that’s alright lol. Also alotta people been asking me to write for him so I gotchu. Enjoy!

Mihawk with a Mixed Girlfriend Headcanons (SFW/NSFW)

SFW

…so I like HC him as Part Hispanic too…so let’s pretend he is.

He’s so romantic??? But it’s not like intentionally romantic I mean he’ll do such sweet gestures without thought towards you and it’s really sweet

He actually enjoys having a GF that is a bit more cheery. It livens him up and makes him feel young so he says💀

He is so passive aggressive towards other men he doesn’t respect that is around you that seem a bit too close for comfort

And don’t get me started if y’all encounter some racist mfs

He takes you along on his trips if he ever leaves but he always wants to make sure you can fight so he trains you every once in a while with his “smallest blade”

You get flustered a lot because he’s very HANDS ON

Will wrap his arm around yours, breathing down your neck and poor boy doesn’t realize you’re not even paying attention you’re just enjoying his warmth and minty breath

Btw…mf smells AMAZING idc who said what he smells like Dr. Bonners Peppermint soap w a hint of expensive cologne

If you can speak Spanish he loves hearing you speak it he’s very open to learn about whatever culture you embrace

He also encourages you to embrace it

Ngl hes very blunt so do expect him to act it around you.

“I don’t understand why you don’t want to wear the dress just because your rolls are showing? You still look stunning.”

Like he’ll sound rude af sometimes but he means no harm😭

He’s not really into PDA he likes to keep his hands in his lap or free when he needs to draw his sword out.

IT IS VERY HARD TO FLUSTER HIM. The most you’ll get is a small smirk but he’s a very deadpanned man

You swear you saw him blush once when showing him the dress he got you but he denies it with his whole heart

You have met Shanks while with Mihawk and though Shanks kept flirting with you Mihawk didn’t care because he trusted you

No you did not flirt back

One of his favorite things is to do with you is bathe you for some reason. He loves seeing you wrap your hair up in a bun or scarf and sometimes he will join you and he will sip wine while he cleans you up or do it while sitting on the edge of the tub.

He enjoys seeing you bully Buggy.

If you give him a gift he may seem like doesn’t care but he has every single gift you ever gave him in a trunk

You’ve seen his porn book collection and yes he has given you some books to read so you both can discuss it together

He does that thing where as you’re talking he will move your hair behind your ear so he can see your face

Or just like adjust any clothing on you whether it’s your bra strap showing or your shirt

He subconsciously kisses your knuckles when he holds your hand

He has caught you wearing his hat and impersonating him in the mirror and he scared the shit out of you when he spoke up but he found it cute

Speaking of him scaring you the mf might be bigger than you but he creeps on you a lot

Like just pops tf out of no where it’s so random

He is the type that enjoys your company a lot so sometimes you both will be in his room or somewhere quiet just doing your own thing. As long as You’re there he is okay.

He doesn’t speak his feelings and his communication skills aren’t the greatest. he’s very hard to read especially when he probably isn’t feeling well so you have to guess a lot and sometimes it can be straining

Mihawk however can read you like a book and sometimes have even assisted you before you even felt bad? It was like he had some kinda 6th sense.

He calls you “little one” a lot

Alotta Head pats too

NSFW

This is a touch starved man.

He has had only less than a handful of lustful nights with women before he met you but they didn’t mean anything and very forgetful.

However since you’re his woman he does want to learn what you like so sometimes while you both talk about the latest books you’ve read he’ll ask you what part of the sex did you like. If you’re willing to ignore his casual bluntness the conversation can last smoothly

“So, you enjoyed reading how the male character bent his lover over and—“

“Yup! Yes I liked that alot.”

He attempts it and aces it.

Mihawk is an exceptional lover he learns fast and always studies your reactions when he has sex with you

His libido is actually quite high, he is also very blunt about it

The moment Perona is out the room or he has finished training Zoro he greets you with a kiss on the forehead

“Y/N would you like to have sex tonight before bed?”

..that’s as good as you’re ganna get with his dirty talk.

His body is so smooth? Like mf silk or something you always catch yourself rubbing his body when under him

He makes absolutely no noise.

His face does gets hot and he’ll bite his lip slightly watching you bounce on top of him but that’s all you get

There was like a few occurrences where he moaned out your name but it was so low you thought you miss heard

He loves your legs and neck. ALOT

If it was up to him He will spend his entire life between your thighs he loves the taste of you.

He’s very slow and calculated with his tongue movements he usually test out different pace to see what your body reacts to and goes with that

Speaking of he’s more interested in how what your body says than you

You’ll scream for him to go faster but the way your legs are already twitching and shaking from his deep slow thrust he keeps his same pace

And you’re grateful for that because you cum like a whore every single time

He doesn’t get caught up with how you look. If you’re hairy, have scars, cellulite, whatever he doesn’t care if you’re comfortable then that’s all that matters

His kisses are always so passionate and you always want him to kiss you more but he doesn’t ever want to get caught doing so so you Gatta suffer a little bit

No worries though because you can be as touchy as you want with him when you both are in bed

There has been times he went through sex without cumming once and when you found out you felt horrible and that maybe you didn’t feel good to him, however he explained to you that you felt more than amazing it’s just he likes to focus on making you satisfied rather himself

Yeah no you didn’t take that lightly so one night you offered to suck him off and then ride him. He didn’t oppose but he still wanted to make sure your pleasure came into play

Don’t worry it did he fingered you as you sucked his cock it was a great time

Mihawk does have a bit of an obsession with heels. He loves seeing you wear them and if you ever decide to do so with no clothes on he may MAY feel like going feral

He doesn’t like when you cover your mouth he wants to HEAR you

If you’re up for it he’ll kiss and lick your toes up to your cunt and eat you like that. He’s done it once and it was so attractive because his gaze never left yours

[alphinias]

Hot Cocoa

They were playing an outdoor movie downtown.

Typically it was a summer event. All shorts, bug spray and vendors handing out ice cold Pepsi, but the week before Christmas was an exception to that rule. Once a year, the residents of Kildare pulled up with their fuzzy blankets and hats and bundled up to watch whatever Christmas movie they happened to decide on.

This year, the honor went to Jim Carrey running around in his fuzzy green Grinch suit.

Ward packed up the entire family, as he always did to town events. Rafe had kicked his playstation across the room at the news, but to Sarah it was an opportunity to show off the cream UGG mittens she’d bought on the mainland weeks ago. They looked amazing with her sweater, and in North Carolina, excuses to wear them were few and far between.

Sarah waved at Scarlet and Caroline and beamed when Victoria complimented her mittens. The movie was a classic, and the cute sophomore boys from the back row kept making too convenient eye contact every time she looked over.

The prospect of the older boys was new and exciting, but Sarah’s attention kept getting pulled to the little styrofoam cups clutched closely by passerby. Every group of kids she saw seemed to have them, and with every one her mind drifted closer to a rich peppermint hot chocolate from Starbucks.

There was a stand in the corner of the field, as there usually was. Rafe would say the pogues were there to try to weasel more money out of them, but Sarah’s mouth was watering.

“I think I have to have some of that hot chocolate,” she finally announced, blinking up at Ward. Rose was cuddled into his side, looking like she’d rather be literally anywhere else, and Rafe was nowhere to be seen. Had no doubt skulked off behind the screen to pour back some shots with his friends.

But Sarah had stayed, ever her dad’s perfect pretty little prop.

“Sure, sweetie.” Ward handed her a few bills. He glanced over at Wheezie, who was collapsed in the grass, burrowed so far into her blanket they could hardly see her eyes. “Get some for you sister, too.”

“No thanks,” Wheezie grunted, from within her mound of fluff.

Ward raised his eyebrows. “Never mind, then.”

Sarah crawled to her feet, the cold seeming to bite at her face more with the increase in altitude. Call her a baby, but forty-five degrees with no sun might as well be Antarctica as far as she was concerned.

Two boys idled behind the stand selling hot chocolate. One of them had his apron pulled up over his face, the bottom flapping up and over his head. The other made slow eye contact with Sarah, jaw going slack as if he was a guppy fish and she was a shark with all her teeth bared.

The second boy’s hand flew out, slapping his friend on the chest, and the friend sputtered, apron flapping down. The motion nearly sent his hat flying off his head, and he scrambled after it, miraculously managing to slam it back against his head before it slid off.

She recognized them. Well, she recognized them mostly.

She knew John B and Pope in the way it was impossible to forget a face close to her own age on an island so small. They hadn’t gone to middle school with her, and she doubted she’d see them in high school, either. No doubt they attended the public school with most of the other kids on the island, and especially those from the Cut.

John B adjusted his hat again, which did nothing to tame the mass of curly hair poking out from underneath it. Strips of pink crept underneath the freckles dotting his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He seemed a lot taller than the time she’d seen him last summer cleaning out the neighbor’s pool.

He was cute, she realized. Really cute.

“Uh, hi-hey,” he managed, in a voice like all the air had left his lungs. Pope still stared. “How are you?”

Sarah giggled. “I’m great.”

“Uh, what can we do for you?” John B asked. His hands plopped on the counter with the air of someone trying and failing to be smooth.

“One hot chocolate, please.”

“You got it.”

John B took her money and passed it off to Pope, who still hadn’t spoken, and then shuffled around at the rear of the stand, pulling out a cup from a stack arranged with the finesse of a hippopotamus walking a tightrope. There was a tiny crash, like something somewhere had fallen, but he didn’t flinch.

Somehow, this made a thought occur to Sarah. “Oh! Could I get extra whipped cream?”

Pope gaped at her. Turned to gape at John B, whose eyes glinted at her from in under his cap. He blinked several times, and some indecipherable language passed between the boys. His eyes trailed to the cup of steaming liquid in his hand.

John B finally threw an arm around Pope’s shoulder, and the leaner boy’s mouth snapped shut. “Uh, we’re fresh out of that—Got some marshmallows, though.”

Sarah didn’t get what the big deal was, but was left with the distinct impression that they were somehow laughing at her. Judging her, like an off brand of the girls at school whispering about one another’s outfits.

Her brow wrinkled. “Oh, that’s fine.”

Somehow, Pope had managed to count out her change. He passed it off to her, stiff as a board, and John B followed it with her cup of hot chocolate

The marshmallows were small, bent, and more than a little stale, but she offered them another smile over her cup. If it was a little stiffer this time, then it was no one’s fault but theirs, she decided.

“Thank you,” she said, and then it was the turn of the little boy in line behind her.

There was a distinct feeling of disconcertion nagging at Sarah, even as she stopped by the edge of the field to say hello to Scarlet. They exchanged the news that Victoria had dumped Denny after receiving his less than stellar Christmas gift, which would have been hot gossip if not for the fact that Sarah’s attention lingered on the little growing gang of pogues over by the stand.

Two more had joined them; JJ Maybank and Kiara Carrera, she was fairly sure. JJ was in short sleeves and a pair of shorts, and the sight had Sarah clutching her hot chocolate more tightly. Her family wouldn’t have even let her out the door without a jacket.

They appeared to be closing for the night, even though the movie was only halfway over. Sarah dragged her attention away from them and made her exit with Scarlet, intent on returning to her nest of blankets and enjoying her hot chocolate in peace.

Just as she turned to head back to her row, something slammed into her, dipping her elbow precariously downward.

Her Styrofoam cup plummeted to the ground, its beloved contents coating the grass. She looked to her mittens instinctively, and somehow, miraculously, they had been spared from staining.

Two flannel jacket clad sleeves stretched out towards the fallen hot chocolate, as if he were still hoping to catch it.

“Oh, God—I am so sorry,” John B said. His friends were halfway across the field, either oblivious to what had happened or laughing at him.

“Uh—“

“I can’t believe I did that.”

“It’s—“

“Take mine,” John B insisted suddenly, cup thrust under her nose. Sarah had hardly had time to blink down at it, half comprehending, before he was blurting, “I didn’t drink out of it yet, I swear.”

He nudged the cup into her hands. Sarah had the wild thought that if she hadn’t been wearing mittens, their fingers would’ve brushed.

“I’d get you a new one but we kind of ran out of packets.”

“You don’t have to-“ Sarah cut herself off. He looked so sincere, so panicked, that she corrected, “Thank you.”

“You too.” John B’s mouth hung open, like he was trying to process what he’d said. He took two backwards steps, pointing at her with both hands in some lame imitation of finger guns. “Uh, Merry Christmas.”

“You too,” Sarah teased, but he seemed to miss her grin. Had already disappeared into the crowd somewhere with his friends so quickly that she didn’t even know if he’d heard her.

The hot chocolate was mediocre at best. A little watery, and it didn’t have the little peppermint flakes like the ones she would have ordered when she was out, but its pleasant heat radiated through her mittens.

She took another sip, and she couldn’t help but think about his eyes. Deep, rich brown, swimming in the tiny constellations of freckles across his nose, and warmer than any drink could ever be.

[softkuna]

Toji Fushiguro || Toy || Fic

The Sukuna one had me like ✨✨✨ Now I must ask, can you- a toji x fem reader and him seeing Gojo eyeing up what's his and her responding to it and then toji being like oh hell no and basically railing her as punishment (degrading kink please it makes me jello) you don't have to write it if your not comfortable btw take your time and stay safe.

Content   ║ Toji Fushiguro x Fem Insert. Toji’s shoulder pressed into the wall with such a force the damn thing could’ve dented. Arms crossed tensely against the broad puff of his chest. His teeth ground together, the sound of squeaking canines reverberating in his mind.  Toji was seething. For a man with the physical prowess of a god, his tolerance was about as thin as a wet napkin. A wet napkin this woman decided to poke a well-manicured finger into.

Count      ║ 1,311 words.

Consider ║ NSFW. Degradation Kink. Objectification. Female Insert (she/her). Alcohol. Grammar issues. Basic degeneracy.

Creator    ║ So this is the first NSFW thing I have done like this ;v;. I’m not sure if this hit the mark for ya Anon, but hopefully it’ll do until I can get some more practice. It took a little while since I wasn’t exactly sure what I was doing. Honestly this just feels subpar gomen. Enjoy jealous Toji, though -finger guns-.

The club was barely lit with black light and neon strewn about the solid concrete walls in seemingly random intervals. A particularly bright hot pink one cast across her collarbone, dowsing the tops of her breasts deliciously in contrast to the black latex dress. As much as Toji would like to shove her against that very wall, she had a job to do. For him. And he regretted it.

  She was pushing her luck when she approached the table with a certain sway to her hips. Gojou peered around the tinted sunglasses, brow piqued in interest. She flashed a smile, smoothly setting a large bottle of some random high percentage alcohol onto the table. Sliding into the booth next to Satoru, the woman leaned a hand on his leg, the other moving to playfully snap the strap of a birthday hat under his chin, “I hear it’s someone’s birthday?”

  His head tilted up along with the corners of his lips, “Guilty as charged. Are you my present, doll? Always heard the hostesses here were the best,” His voice purred against the thrum of the bass. She tucked hair behind her ear, eyes flickering back to the ravenette with a dangerous composition. The corner of her mouth twitched up at the obvious frustration resonating in the man. He couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t even dream of it if he wanted any semblance of information on this guy. It was the perfect opportunity to test a theory. Toji was the jealous type.

  Toji’s shoulder pressed into the wall with such a force the damn thing could’ve dented. Arms crossed tensely against the broad puff of his chest. His teeth ground together, the sound of squeaking canines reverberating in his mind.  Toji was seething. For a man with the physical prowess of a god, his tolerance was about as thin as a wet napkin. A wet napkin this woman decided to poke a well-manicured finger into.

  He slammed down a shot, the burn at the back of his throat accompanying the burn of his own gaze. She wasn’t anything to him aside from an in. Yet somehow, the not-so-shaman made it a point to speak with her at least once a week, which usually lead into fucking her like a play thing. The lay was just as good as the information she could pry out of loose mouths. Immaculate. This go around, he needed information on someone in particular. Someone who just so happened to be here with a group. Someone who decided it would be a good idea to get a little handsy with his toy.

  “Y’know,” Satoru murmured, “’s pretty sad to be alone in bed for my birthday.” Chilled pads of his fingers rested at the back of her neck. His gaze was hungry and she was a full course meal. Just his type. Perfect shape, perfect charm, perfect headrush. Her hand cupped his ear, whispering something his buzzing mind couldn’t fully piece together against the dense music.  

  She kept up the sweet act despite not getting a lick of information. The only dirt she dug up was that he could finish half a handle before getting buzzed. By the end of the night, Gojou’s hands squeezed at her thigh like he did her last string of patience.  

  The last thing Toji saw was the exchange of cards.

  -

  As the black-clad hostess passed by Toji, her hand trailed along the muscles of his chest, stiletto nails pressing just slightly into him. He followed close behind until they got to their regular spot. A private room tucked into the corner of the club. Commonly used for rich men thirsting to empty their wallets on a good lap dance. It was sound proofed, dimly lit, and somehow hot pink velvet was a prime design choice to set a steamy mood.

  She crossed her arms, gaze hard as the door shut, “So, I’ve got bad new. He didn’t let a word slip-“ The sentence stopped as soon as it began.

  “So doll’s got a sense of humor, huh?” His voice held an edge to match the snide smirk flashing over pointed canines. She knew exactly what was up and oh was it a dangerously delectable sight. One that made her cunt throb on nothing but adrenaline. The crease of his brow, the way his lips set into that hairpin curl, the tensing of each thick muscle along his arm – all of it leaving a sense of satisfaction in the pit of her stomach. Theory confirmed. He took a step closer; she didn’t shrink away. A lost challenge if he’d say so himself.

  A large calloused hand shoved her onto cushions of the booth, catching her open mouth in his own with a bruising force. The man wasted no time with his prodding tongue, tasting the sweetness of peppermint and lapping it up while fending off her own slick muscle.  A hand snaked into the roots of her perfectly done hair, white-knuckling just at the base of the skull. With a sharp yank, her head was yanked back, allowing break for air. Smug and breathless, she chimed, “Jealous?”

  Toji blew air out in a single blackened laugh, “I’m not one to share my toys.” Teeth connected to her lips, rolling the flesh then moving to her throat. Purple marked his territory trailing down. The heat of his breath tickled the space directly next to her ear, “Now, you’re going to beg for me to forgive you. Make myself clear, slut?” Toji’s grip on her tightened, “Or is doll better for something getting used?” A rough tug to the back of her hair triggered a low moan from her heaving chest. After so many sessions, she knew he didn’t really want an answer. He wanted a reason go harder.  

  The hand once in her hair now gripped her jaw, keeping her gaze on him, “Answer me, toy. Or do I need to pull a string to make that cock-obsessed mouth move?” On que, free digits wrapped around the gusset of her thong, second knuckle just grazing the entrance of her heat before he pulled the sodden fabric taught, letting it snap back to place. The impact triggered another empty clench and gasp. Her hips writhed, a sappy pout puffing the bitten lips. More.

  Toji maintained her heavy-lidded stare as he brought the knuckle to his lips. He watched as her own parted when his tongue swept up the sweetness collected at the joint. The way her hips rose to match the zipper’s height, the lock of her teeth on her finger, the desperation in her eyes – all of it made his stiffened cock twitch against her adorably hopeless grinding, “Looks like my toy is broken. Guess I’ll just fuck the apology out of it then.”

  A wicked grin whipped onto his handsome face. Her mouth opened in rebuttal, only to get interrupted, “This is to teach a lesson, toy. What did you do to deserve the prep?” The gravel in his tone grew slightly dark, “Couldn’t even get the dirt I paid for.” His long digits did work past the gusset, slipping over her entrance, gathering the arousal, “Look how wet you already are for me.” A heated coil pressed in her at the words. She knew what was coming now and every inch of her craved it.

  In what seemed to be a single motion, jeans and boxers were torn down. Her dress was hiked up with a satisfying peel, thong quite literally ripped off and thrown to the ground before she was flipped so that her back was pressed against his chest. Sturdy, veined arms wrapped at the backs of her thighs and under her knees. Truly, she was a doll for him to pleasure himself on and he made it a point to do so.

  Toji lowered her so that the thick tip of his length pressed against her heart-beating heart. Her walls fluttered around him as he slid in. “For a broken toy, you’re pretty damn tight for me - ready to be played with. Get used- fuck.” Amusement broke through as she bit back a breathless sigh. His cock filled her easily, slick sliding down his shaft and pooling at the base. As he fully sheathed himself, he craned his neck forward, lips pressing at the shell of her ear, “Now, I want to hear you beg, bitch.” With that, the man snaked back and up, setting a relentless pace from the beginning. The sound of skin slamming into wettened skin filling the room along with the aroma of arousal.

  She was stubborn. He was tireless. They’d both cum before the apology even had a chance to.

[box-of-roses]

Tall/Small Headcannons for Oikawa, Ushijima, Tendo, The Twins, Alisa, and Sakusa

Oikawa Toru

♚ Giving you his Seijoh jacket before a game and making sure you sit closer to the team than his fangirls. (He will find a way even if you have to sit on the bench with the coach this boy will plead)

♚ Enjoys when you move your arms up and down making little flap sounds and just gives you a hug because cute

♚ Definitely persuades you into calling Iwaizumi Iwa-chan (although he’s fine with it because you’re smol and he will protect too)

♚Prepare for facetimes at like 1 A.M. when he comes up with new alien conspiracies and you jokingly saying you’re an alien and him just sitting here like “Because you’re so amazing you’re out of this world.” 

♚ Smirks because he knows when he has a good pick up line

♚ So like go on a little drabble with me for a sec-

    Turning over you smile and place your hand on this side of your boyfriend’s face rubbing small circles on his cheek while your other hand is running through the soft brown tresses. His chocolate eyes flutter open and he just leans forward a bit and nuzzles your noses together. “Good morning my King!” He blushes and kisses your forehead. Rubbing small circles on your back he pulls the blankets up a bit because you must stay warm...totally not because he doesn’t want to move from the blanket burrito and start the day. 

♚ Hot cocoa in the winter and puts little peppermint pieces in it when it gets closer to Christmas

♚ You’re cold? Have his scarf and hat, and be prepared to share his jacket with him because he’s also cold

♚ Valentine’s Day? This boy uses the fourteen days leading up to it to spoil you plus Valentine’s Day itself. 

♚ Little notes in your locker telling you how pretty you are and how he just wants to pepper kisses all over your face 

♚ Prepare for him walking into your homeroom on Valentine’s day and just snuggling with you as he feeds you chocolate and then he comes back for lunch because he needs to properly spoil you

♚ If he’s little spoon expect him to just lay on top of your chest and demand you pet his hair 

♚ Protect this baby please

Ushijima Wakatoshi

♤ Honestly doesn’t give them to you unless you ask because this boy can’t comprehend why you would want to wear his jacket

♤ Little smiles if you are passed out on the couch with his Shiratorizawa jacket on 

♤ Like it’s soooo big on you, he can’t he just thinks you’re the most adorable thing

♤ Will lift your head up and place it in his lap so he can pet your hair and watch his show

♤ Will definitely take you to the park and you two play volleyball together

♤ If you call him at like 8 pm he might be asleep but this boy picks up so fast he could have fooled you

“I’m sorry love! Were you sleeping?” You ask as he shakes his head and fixes his hair a bit because he has to look good (we ignore the fact that his messy hair still make him att--enough of my simping). “Okay, I was just wondering if I could stay the night? I missed you this week…” You trail of Ushijima lets out a small chuckle and gets up unlocking the door to his house.

“Door’s open just tell me when you get here strawberry.” 

♤ Alright, fight me but being someone’s strawberry is adorable like they’re small and most people like them (and the fact that I blush really easy but that’s besides the point)

♤ Sleepovers~~

♤ You going into his closet and stealing one of his shirts 

♤ No shame just no pants because he’s tall and built sooooo yeah it’s really big on you

♤ Might blush lightly, or smile...or both depending on the sleeves

♤ Did I mention curling up on his chest and him petting your hair while he sings to you wanting you to fall asleep so he can fully appreciate you 

Tendo Satori

🍨 Sidenote- I found these ice cream emojis and they cute 🍨🍨🍨🍨🍨🍨

🍨 This boy would be so happy if you stole his hoodies like he melts

🍨 Will share ice cream sandwich with you because he thinks it’s cute to see some ice cream on like the corner of your mouth and this boy leans over no hesitation and kisses it away

🍨 He might tease you about your height but if anyone else comments on it that’s a big no no because only he can tease you about it

🍨 Honestly loves how short you are because like Oikawa if he walks in on you just like in his Shiratorizawa jacket flapping your hands up and down to make woosh sounds he melts again

🍨 Will hug you and bend down to lay his chin on your head and wrap his arms around you

Satori came home from volleyball practice to you in one of his hoodies that stopped about at your knee cooking some french toast while a tub of ice cream was off to the side. He came up behind you and rested his chin on your head arms around your stomach. “Hi sweetie.” He nuzzles his face into your hair and smiles happily at the scent of the cherry shampoo. “You used my shampoo?” 

“Mhm! I wanted to be clean and smelly good when you came home so I took a shower and decided to put on one of your hoodies because they’re just so comfy! And they smell so good!!!” He smiles and he swears he feels all of the bad things that happened in his day go away at the sight of you hugging yourself in the hoodie and a big smile on your face.

🍨Chocolate ice cream dates 

🍨 Watches horror movies because A) He likes them and B) You curl up in his lap

Miya Atsumu

◐  Will tease you about your height but honestly thinks it’s adorable 

◐ Def uses you as a head rest, like just rests his arm on your head and ‘leans’ on you (in reality he just makes it look like he’s leaning on you but is holding himself up because he can’t hurt his baby)

◐ Going to a game and wearing his spare jersey, you better believe this man is going to play better than his best because he has to show off 

◐ Osamu def tease him about showing off and would chuckle when he messes up

◐ He would try to cook for you but ultimately fail and get Osamu to cook it (then steal the credit when he gives it to you)

◐ Going back to the jersey thing- if he came over to your house to see you just lounging around in it this man would have the biggest smirk on his face

◐ So like Valentine’s day, anyone? 

◐ This boy will pout if you leave him alone because his fangirls threatened you

◐ When he figured out what happened-

Atsumu was pouting because he wanted to spend time with you but for some reason today, the day you should have wanted to spend time with your lovely boyfriend if not everyday, you had been avoiding him. He decided to go incognito mode and follow you around to see if he could find out why. Cue the Kim Possible music guys- in reality he was standing behind the corner when he found out why. 

His fangirls were standing in front of you, smol bean must protect, with their hands on their hips while you looked upwards a bit to look them in the eyes. “Stay away from Atsu today got it? We wouldn’t want to have to spread a nasty rumor now would we?” You shook your head and teared up a bit looking down at the heart-shaped box that was in your hand. 

The only thought going through this man’s head was ‘Those nasty fluffing pigs!’ did he confront them, yes, yes he did. Were they allowed at the volleyball games, hell no, they were also not allowed within 12 ft. of you.

Miya Osamu

Soft baby-

🍙This boy can and will cook for you 

🍙 Got something special going on? Prepare for a whole meal prepared by your boyfriend

🍙 Didn’t pack enough? Shares his food with you

🍙 Cold hands? He’s holding one in the pocket of his jacket and takes the glove off that hand so your other hand won’t be cold

🍙 Can’t sleep at the sleepover?

Osamu woke up from his nap, you still wrapped up in his arms but looking up at him with a growing blush on your face as you froze. He smiled and kissed your forehead when he noticed that your hands were still in hair and leaned into the touch (soft like excuse me for a second while I imagine being held please-). You smiled and kissed the tip of his nose before nuzzling your own nose against it. 

Osamu nuzzled your nose back and finally kept his eyes open. He looked over noticing his neanderthal of a brother asleep on the bed on the other half of the room. “What are you doing still up?” He asked tucking a small piece of hair behind your ear. “You should be asleep my sweet.” 

“Couldn’t sleep, plus I like looking at your pretty face!” You say happily giving Osamu a small smile and kissing his cheek taking one of the hands that was playing with his hair and tracing the soft features of his face.

“I’ll make you some tea then we can go back to sleep how about that?” You nodded your head and slowly got up ‘your’ shirt sliding off your left shoulder. Osamu fixed it as you went to the kitchen and he wrapped his arms around you while you waited for the kettle to go off.

🍙 Forehead kisses- that’s all that needs to be said

🍙 Did I mention clinging to him like a koala makes him happy?

🍙Like just wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist while he’s sitting and don’t let go when he gets up

🍙 Warm- like this boy is so warm and it’s nice for cuddles

🍙Did I mention he’s big spoon?

🍙 If he had to deal with Atsumu and they got into a fight about -certain subjects that relate to the future that have not been discussed in the nike thus far- >-< 

🍙But if he had a fight with Tsumu this boy is just going to go ‘flop’ and rest his head on your chest and demand you play with his hair

🍙 Makes you hot cocoa if it’s winter and put a cinnamon stick in it with whip cream you know he gots that fancy touch 

Kuroo Tetsurou

😼 Sly baby

😼 Teases you for being short but if anyone comments on it they about to catch these hands-

😼 Must be friends with Kenma, I’m sorry but you have to (to be fair who wouldn’t want to be friends with Kenma the apple pie baby)

😼 If you are friends with Yaku he a lil cautious that his teasing you for being small will result in being kicked but he doesn’t show it

😼 If you come to his practices but are sleepy you can sleep on the bleachers using his jacket as a blanket-

😼 Tears up because you can fit all of you under it and still have extra and he’s just sitting here like- how tf are you so cute

😼 Mayhaps he gets jealous when you make apple pie for Kenma but don’t make food for him-

😼 Will get jealous if you wear anyone else’s jacket like he only likes seeing you in his jackets

😼 Conflicted about it though because you still cute and small

Kuroo was happy because it was Valentine’s Day and he was fully prepared to spoil you. He filled your locker with chocolate and little love notes and walked you to school, he gave you his Nekoma jacket and obviously you proudly wore it the whole day. You were a happy bean the whole day and he even made a bento for you and filled it with little sticky notes that had cheesy pickup lines and cat drawings. “Tetsu! I feel bad that I haven’t been spoiling you!” You say pouting a bit as he chuckles and kisses the tip of your nose. 

“You can spoil me tomorrow if you really want to, but today is for you, although you spoil me every day.” He smiles at you and gives you a hug.

😼 Loves giving you kisses, will kiss your forehead, cheek, lips, the tip of your nose, just all over your face honestly

😼 His favorite place to kiss is your shoulder or neck, I can’t explain but that’s how it is 

😼 Definitely calls you his kitten and you can’t convince me otherwise

Alisa Haiba

🍣 Will pick you up and spin you around when she sees you

🍣 Bends down a little bit to make it easier on your neck (And easier to give you a kiss if she’s already in position)

🍣 Always takes you on like really cute dates

🍣 Like, ice cream parlor, stargazing, drive in, roller skating, stuff like that

🍣 Forehead kisses, cheek kisses, and just snuggles all the time

🍣 You want to wear one of her cardigans? Go right ahead she will be so happy 

🍣Steal one of her hoodies? Baby will tear up 

🍣 Honestly just precious interaction

“Y/N!!!!” Alisa cheered as she ran to you with her arms out and a huge smile on her face. “Are you ready for our date?” 

“Not yet!” You gave her a big hug and lifted your head to give her a big cheery smile. “I have to get one more thing then I’ll be back!” You rushed back into your room and quickly put on ‘their’ blue cat hoodie. You smiled and dashed out back to Alisa who smiled and blushed lightly. “Ready?” You ask, taking her hand as she smiled softly and kissed your forehead. 

“You look amazing kitty.” She ruffled your hair with her free hand and kissed the back of your hand before lacing both of your hands together. And heading out the door two pairs of skates thrown over her shoulder because she didn’t want you to carry them. She low key wanted to carry you too but knew that you would rather walk (at least the way there). 

“Ready to skate with me Alisa?” Alisa nodded and patted your head with her other hand, she opened the car door letting you get in. Giggling a little bit you said a little thank you shaking your head at the antics of the eldest Haiba. She walked over to the driver side of the car, setting the skates on the floor behind the driver’s seat, you began driving to the roller rink one of her hands on the steering wheel and the other holding your hand which she would bring up to her lips and kiss it.

Sakusa Kiyoomi

😷 Sakusa might not be the most loving boyfriend but he shows it in other ways

😷 He gives a mask before school starts so you don’t ‘get infected by other people’s germs’

😷 When you ask about you touching him he just looks at you with a surprised pikachu face

😷 Sakusa says that you don’t have germs because you’re you

😷 You can give him hugs just don’t do it as often in front of his team because they will tease him

😷 If you both go to the All Japan training camp he will **not** let Atsumu near you

😷 If he tries it- 

Atsumu knew you were dating Sakusa and likes to tease him so we all see where this is going.  He came up to you when you and your ‘team’ were done with regular training. As you were about to put on a face mask and take a shower but Atsumu put his hand on your lips preventing you from doing so. “My, my, your lips are soft.” You blushed a little bit and he took his hand away. 

Sakusa was on his way towards you when he saw you blushing and Atsumu standing in front of you, closer than he wanted, and started walking faster. “Say, I wonder if they would feel nice against mine?” When he put your hand on his lips Sakusa lost it and pulled out his trusty can of Lysol, he appeared behind you and sprayed Atsumu huffing a bit from jealousy. 

“Come on (Y/N), you don’t need to be around him. You can shower at my room and steal my shirt to sleep in, I don’t want you out of my sight for the rest of the day.” Sakusa’s cheeks puffed out a bit as he wiped your hand with a baby wipe and then pulled you towards his room a smirking Atsumu left in his wake. _____________________________ My Requests are open! So If you have a request go ahead and send it in!!! (I only write for Haikyuu right now btw)

[trashyswitch]

Dark Interrogations (With a Light Spin)

Roman gets interrogated for the robbery of a hoodie, a hat and a deodorant. Remus, Janus and Virgil work together to make Roman confess to his crimes and admit as to their location...

This has the 'tickle interrogation' trope going for it so if you're uncomfortable with that, I am very sorry. There are also some swear words, so you have been warned.

This fanfic goes out to @smileheart110 on Tumblr. Link

This fanfic also goes out to @kennabelee because I wanna. XD

So Smileheart and Kenna, I hope you both (and others) enjoy!

A pair of high heels could be heard echoing through the room...a paper was shuffled with...and a pencil was heard being used despite the pitch black darkness.

“Roman ‘Princey’ Sanders…” Someone said.

The name called, hummed in confusion as he registered who the voice belonged to.

“...What in royalty are you doing, Library boy?” Roman asked.

“Oh...Right I forgot he could recognize our voice.” The person admitted.

“We have the same voice.” Someone else said.

“I’m gonna turn on the liiiight~” someone else said before switching on a lamp. Roman squinted at how surprisingly bright the lamp was. He expected one of those modern lights with the slow build up to brightness. You know, the eco-friendly ones? But nope. Not here. The voices of the ‘strangers’ didn’t always have a green thumb.

Roman looked up at the faces that were staring him down. One of them was holding a clipboard and a pencil. Another one was holding pieces of paper. And the last one was giving him the death glare with a small box in his hand.

“Welcome to the interrogation room. You can refer to me as Deceit...Or Janus, if you want to.” Janus started.

“You can refer to me as Virgil...I prefer it that way. No ‘emo’, no ‘panic at the everywhere’, and no ‘kitty cat’ either. I’ve heard you and your list.” Virgil warned.

“And I’m starving.” Remus admitted.

Virgil sighed. “Remus we know.” Virgil growled.

“Can we hurry this up?” Remus asked. “I haven’t had my hourly deodorant because SOMEONE STOLE IT!” Remus smacked his hand onto the desk to scare him.

But hilariously enough, Roman didn’t even flinch. “Awww, boo hoo.”

Remus looked at Janus. “Can I slap him with your heel?” Remus asked.

“NO.” Janus and Virgil both shot back.

“Dammit…” Remus muttered.

“Heel?!” Roman looked down and sure enough, Janus was wearing heels. “...Huh…”

“Eyes up here asshole.” Virgil ordered. “Where are our things?” Virgil asked.

“What things?” Roman asked, pretending to be naive.

Virgil slammed a paper onto the table, revealing the hoodie...But the picture used to represent it, looked really poor quality.

Roman smirked. “Did you get that from clipart or something?” Roman asked.

Janus sighed. “It was the best we could do. Please stay focused.” Janus told him.

“Where is it?!” Virgil asked.

“Chill out man! I didn’t mess with your hoodies!” Roman reacted.

“It’s ONE hoodie, and it’s MISSING. And you’re the only one dumb enough to take it.” Virgil spat.

“Emo.” Roman spat back with a smirk.

“Prick in my ass.” Virgil shot back.

“Oooooh! Okay, boogeyman~” Remus teased.

“Ew!” Virgil turned to Remus. “Don’t you dare use your serial killer references on me!” Virgil ordered.

“Sorry, sorry…I’m just hangry…” Remus admitted.

“Really? What a surprise…” Janus muttered.

Roman chuckled. “Someone should make a tv show based on all of you.” Roman reacted.

“Brooklyn 99 is the equivalent of that already.” Virgil reminded him.

Virgil placed another paper down. “What about this? Where is it?” Virgil asked.

Roman sighed and looked down. This time, it was a picture of deodorant...but it had a leaf on the label with the word ‘Peppermint’ on the front. Roman guffawed. “No, I haven’t seen Remus’s ‘peppermint’ deodorant!” Roman laughed.

Janus blinked and checked the label. “Oh...Oops.” Janus admitted. “Anyway-” Janus placed the paper down. “You know what we really mean in this situation. Where is it?” Janus asked.

“I don’t know. I thought you hid it with your magic?” Roman replied, looking at Remus.

Janus sighed. “And as you can tell, this:” Janus showed a colored picture of Roman holding his hat, with the bowler hat circled with a red marker. “Where is my hat?”

Roman giggled and changed his voice. “Look! I’m Woody! Howdy Howdy Howdy!” He imitated.

Janus snapped his fingers and pointed at him. “AHA! So you DID steal it!” Janus declared. “And that means you stole everything else TOO!” Janus yelled.

“Whaaaat...if I was simply making a reference?” Roman asked.

“You weren’t.” All three interrogators said at the exact same time.

Roman’s smirk dropped. They really could read through his tricks…

“Where’s. Our. Stuff. Roman?” Janus asked, leaning forward to glare at Roman closely.

“Up. Your. Scaled. Tushy.” Roman spat back.

“Alright get the tools.

“Tools?! Seriously?!” Roman reacted.

“Yes, of course! We need to scare our thief into confessing to their most evil crimes known to man!” Remus told him. “Stealing. Our. Precious. Props.” Remus told him.

Virgil pulled out a toothbrush and clicked a button to turn it on. The electric tooth brush started humming and vibrating, leaving Roman confused. “You’re...gonna brush my teeth to death?” Roman guessed.

Virgil giggled evilly. “Think again, Ro.” While Janus held Roman’s hands behind his back, Virgil walked closer to Roman, pulled up a stool and brought the humming toothbrush closer to Roman’s belly button.

The toothbrush had only lowered a couple inches from his belly, when Roman started whining and biting his lip. “Ohohoho noho, you’re worse than yzma.” Roman muttered with a slight wobbly smile growing onto his lips.

“So...Where...is our stuff Ro?” Virgil asked.

“I-I don’t know!” Roman replied.

It was then that Roman SCREAMED and wiggled around as the toothbrush landed right into his belly button.

“I hope you like tickles, Princey~” Virgil teased. “Cause this is gonna last a while if you don’t confess.” Virgil added.

“WAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAT THEHEHEHERE! NOT THEHEHEREHEHEHE!” Roman begged already.

“Woooow! Begging already?” Remus reacted. “I’m surprised! You can defeat a giant dragon witch, but you can’t handle a little tickwing to the bewwy button?” Remus teased.

Roman tugged on his arms to try and get out as his belly button was tormented with only a single little circular toothbrush. Man, being ticklish sucked right now!

Virgil stopped the electric toothbrush, but kept the toothbrush in his belly button. While this was happening, Janus leaned into Roman’s ear and clicked his tongue. “You gonna tell me where the stuff is?” Janus asked softly.

Roman felt tingles down his spine from both the hot air against his ear, and the super soft voice Janus was using.

Roman looked towards the ear Janus was whispering into. “Jeez, you could do an ASMR video or an ASMR channel if you wanted to! Holy crap!” Roman reacted.

“Answer the question.” Janus ordered with a more stern voice.

Roman looked at Virgil and Remus. “Guys...I seriously don’t know.” Roman told them.

“He’s lying. Vir-”

“Way ahead of ya, Jan.” Virgil pulled out a huge fan brush, turned on the electric tooth brush and used both items on Roman’s belly button region.

“NOOOOOHOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHA! VIHIHIRGIHIHIHIL STAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Roman pleaded.

Janus smirked as he leaned in, and blew cold air onto his neck. Roman squealed and curled his neck, throwing his head back in the process. “JAHAHAHAN!” Roman begged.

Then, Janus grabbed a feather and started tickling up and down Roman’s spine. “EEEEEK! WAHAHAHAIT NOHOHOHOHO! NAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHERE!”

“Hey Remus...Do you wanna have some fun?” Virgil asked before turning off the toothbrush. Janus stopped the feather and looked at Remus with curious eyes.

Roman took the time to breath in and out as much as he could before the tickling started up again.

“Sure! And I know just the spot~” Remus grabbed a foot rest, placed it between Roman’s lower legs, and tied Roman’s legs to the bars on the sides of the foot rest.

Roman shrieked and tried to lift the foot rest, but a 50 pound dumbbell had been tied to the bottom of the foot rest as well! “NO! YOU’D BETTER NOT PULL THAT ANKLE-BREAKING MOVE FROM MISERY!” Roman shouted at him.

Virgil and Janus widened their eyes at each other while Remus wheezed. “Look around the room, you dumbass! There’s no sledgehammers anywhere here!” Remus reacted through his laughter.

“Except for in the closet…” Virgil muttered.

Remus hummed. “Wait what?”

“There actually is one in the closet…” Virgil muttered again.

Roman let out an ear-piercing SCREAM in horror. “OH FUCK! OH SHIT NO! REMUS YOU DO THAT, AND I’M DIVORCING YOU AS A FUCKING BROTHER-”

“Hey Janus, do you have an extra hand to cover up his mouth?” Remus asked casually...too casually.

Janus nodded and covered up his mouth. With Roman’s screams covered up enough to focus, Remus got up to do his thing. He walked to the closet, grabbed out the sledge hammer and made a large portal. Roman was still breathing heavily and freaking out. But Remus gave the sledgehammer a heave, and threw it into the portal. A loud “OW!” could be heard from within the portal before it was closed up.

“There! No more sledgehammer, and no more scared Roman.” Remus told him.

Roman’s scared face lessened dramatically as he registered the lack of a sledgehammer.

“You can uncover his mouth now.” Remus told Janus. Janus nodded and uncovered his mouth as Remus walked back over. “Now what I was ACTUALLY gonna do...” Remus sat down onto the foot rest, and scooted a bit closer. “Was this:”

Remus reached his hand out and started tickling the inside of Roman’s thigh. Roman widened his eyes, gasped in surprise, and leaned his head to the side as the craving to laugh filled his lungs. Roman tried to hold them back as best he could...But the moment the fingers reached the lower thigh, it was all over.

“EEEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEK! NOHOHOHOHO! NONONO! NOTTHETHIGHS! HAHAHAHANDS AWAHAHAHAY!” Roman begged.

“Only if you confess to taking our stuff…” Remus reminded him as he moved his fingers to the other thigh.

“BAHAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OKAYOKAHAHAHAHAY! FIHIHIHINE!” Roman finally yelled.

Virgil smiled eagerly as Remus stopped his fingers. “Well?”

“Fihihihine...Yohohou wihihihin…*huff* I… *huff* I took ‘em…. *huff* *huff* Took ‘em all.” Roman finally admitted.

Remus smiled proudly and cheered. “YAAAAAY! I did it!” Remus declared.

“Totally didn’t see that coming…” Janus lied with a smirk.

“But wait:” Virgil looked at Roman. “Where did you put them?” Virgil asked.

Remus stopped cheering and looked at him. That was a good question! Where DID he put them?

Roman shook his head. “You said you’d let me go if I confessed. I confessed, so you need to let me go.” Roman told them.

“That’s why we have a tape record-” Virgil looked over at the tape recorder and noticed there was no tape in the tape recorder…

Virgil growled in pure frustration and anger the moment he heard crunching plastic on the other side of the table. Remus had moved himself to the other side of the table and…

..was eating the cassette tape.

“Whath? I goth hungryyy!” Remus reacted. “I’ff been hungry’fr hourth!” Remus added.

“And you couldn’t ASK FOR A BREAK?!” Virgil shouted.

Remus swallowed. “Mm mm. Go on. Keep going.” Remus told them, waving his hand to move them along.

Virgil sighed and looked at Roman. “Are there times you don’t associate with him?” Virgil asked.

Roman nodded. “All the time.” He replied. Rokman yelped as the circular spinning piece from the cassette tape smacked against his forehead. “OW!” Roman yelled.

“Thorry!” Remus reacted.

Virgil grabbed out another item from the tool box. “How about some oil?” Virgil asked.

OH HELL NAW!

Roman squeaked and wiggled around. “Uh uh! No way! Absolutely not! Get that stuff away from me!” Roman threatened.

Virgil giggled and poured some oil into his belly button.

“NOOOOOO!” Roman begged. Virgil grabbed a silicone oil brush from the tool kit, and started brushing and spreading the oil across his whole belly. Roman giggled and snorted as the brush moved everywhere across the regular skin, AND the shiny oiled skin. Whenever the brush would go across the oiled skin, Roman’s laughter would increase 10 fold, or even 20 fold! The oil made so much of a difference on Roman’s belly.

“And now for my new favorite part:” Virgil grabbed out two- TWO separate back scratchers. The metal back scratchers had paws on them rather than the usual fingers, which gave the back scratches metal claws rather than dull nails. Virgil handed one of them to Remus, and got ready to attack.

“NO...NOO PLEASE NO…” Roman pleaded.

“Where are they~” Virgil asked as he and Remus both brought the bear scratchers closer and closer to the belly.

“VIRGIL! REMUS! PLEASE! I DON’T KNOW! I! DON’T! KNOW! AAAAAAAAH!” Roman screamed and fell into loud cackles as the bear claws started scritching and scratching all over his poor, oiled belly.

“Where is it, oh ticklish prince of-”

“IHIHIHIN MYHYHY NIHIHIGHTSTAHAHAHAND! NIHIHIGHTSTAHAHAND!” Roman shouted.

Virgil widened his eyes. “Nightstand?!” Virgil reacted.

Remus got up, placed the bear claw scratcher down and sprinted to Roman’s bedroom. Roman took this moment to breath like his life depended on it. “Yohohou’re...lucky...I’m a side...otherwise...I will have...p-perished…” Roman said slowly.

Virgil laughed. “You wouldn’t have died, you drama queen.” Virgil fluffed his hair.

Janus smiled as he let go of Roman’s hands and wrote down the thief with the location of the items. “A criminal has pleaded guilty today. I say a job well done.” Janus told him. “And I mean it.” Janus clarified, telling him that he wasn’t lying.

Remus sprinted into the room with their stuff, and a mouth full of deodorant. “Hoodie!” Remus threw the hoodie to Virgil. “Hat!” Remus threw the hat frisbee style to Janus. “And MMMMMmmmmm!” Remus dug right into his deodorant like a mad man.

Virgil and Roman both bursted out laughing at Remus’s face, while Janus fixed his hat and hair. “There…” Then, Janus whipped off the high heels. “Finally! My feet can rest happy without these stupid heels!” Janus declared.

“FREE HEELS!” Remus declared, picking up the heels and sprinting out of the room.

Virgil shrieked and sprinted after him. “REMUS GIVE ME THOSE HEELS NOW, YOU ARE NOT HITTING PEOPLE WITH THEM!”

Roman bursted out laughing at their silliness and looked at Janus. “So...You gonna start that ASMR channel?” Roman asked.

Janus leaned into his ear with a smile. “Maybe~” He whispered.

Roman giggled nervously and covered his mouth. The teaser was already a huge indication that he was gonna DIE listening to Janus’s voice!

...A loud “OW! VIRGIL!” could be heard from all the way down the hall…

Those silly dark sides...

Also YES, 2 FANFICS TODAY! AREN'T YOU PROUD OF ME??? :D

[enchantedblackrose]

Merry Christmas Eve Eve!

**Not my picture. Google Images.**

This Thing Between Us

Pairing: Jay Halstead/Reader

Warnings: 1 F bomb near the end

Apologies, this has not yet been proofread by someone else. I was just too anxious to get it posted.

There's a knock on your apartment door which causes you to groan. You struggle to find the will to get off the couch and leave the warmth of your favorite sherpa blanket. In fact you contemplate not answering the door. You check your phone to make sure no one sent you a text about coming over.

0 new notifications 

Then there's another knock with a little more force behind it this time. Sighing, your curiosity is getting the better of you. You pause your favorite Christmas movie before standing up. 

'Ugh, Christmas,' you think to yourself. It is a large contributor to your current funk. But it's not your fault you find the holiday incredibly romantic. You can blame Hollywood and American commercialism for that. A constant string of movies, songs, and commercials are crammed down your throat before Halloween every year. Most depict having someone special, someone to cuddle, to sip hot chocolate with, to take you ice skating, or decorate the tree and bake cookies, someone to love and loves you back. You're painfully single and apparently sadistic, self sabotaging yourself with that movie.

You open the door and are met with those familiar piercing eyes belonging to your partner. The other leading cause of your pathetic state.. You met at work, both being a part of the elite intelligence unit for the Chicago Police Department. You're fiercely dedicated to the job, as is he, but that didn't stop either of you from hooking up. You've been sleeping together for a few months. You thought you could handle it all. The friendship, the casual hook ups, working closely together, the undeniable chemistry you two shared, but somewhere along the way you found yourself falling in love. 

Scared of falling alone, of ruining everything, you've kept your feelings a secret. Instead you have, rather unsuccessfully, attempted to limit the hook ups, vowing to make a clean break.

Eventually.

You truly don't even know how you get yourself into these positions, but then you see him smiling at you as he leans on your doorframe and the how becomes a lot clearer. 

"I have a candy cane for you."

"Ugh, Jay," you groan. "I'm really not in the mood. You should have called. I-"

"No, I have an actual candy cane for you." He pulled the curved peppermint stick out of his coat pocket offering it to you.

"Oh. Uh...thanks." You take the candy cane, slightly confused.

"I'm on the way to meet a CI about the case.I thought maybe you'd wanna come along?"

"Yeah, sure. Let me get changed real fast." You indicate for him to come inside. He steps through the doorway, accidentally brushing against you. You catch a whiff of his familiar scent and you find yourself thinking about pulling him to you. But you remember he's here for work. 

Having been at your place quite a few times, he knowingly heads for your couch.You make your way to your bedroom. You're halfway undressed when you hear Jay laugh. You peek your head out to see what sparked the laughter. He sees you and points to your Christmas tree.

It's about 2 feet, strung with multicolored lights, topped with a star that's too big. It's pathetic and the whole thing looks like it could topple over at any given moment.

"What is that?" He exclaims, still laughing.

You huff and cross your arms. "Stop it. I haven't exactly had the chance to go out and buy a new tree." It's true. The case has you logging more hours than normal and your current mental state wasn't exactly inspiring your Christmas spirit, either. As you finish getting out of your sweats and putting on "real" clothes, you hear Jay still chuckling softly. As much as you want to be annoyed by him, the sound makes you smile slightly.

~☆~☆~☆~☆

Jay's informant has information that proves to be useful. You put in a call to the other members of the team. Soon enough there's a successful bust and several collars. Voight commends the team for a good job, then dismisses you all, rather quickly saying something about enjoying the start of the holiday when given the chance.

Jay takes you back to your place. You hesitate before getting out of his truck, struggling with your own conflicting wants.

"Do you wanna hang out for a bit?" You ask, losing your willpower.

He smiles and kisses your cheek almost brusquely. "I have some things to take care of."

You nod showing you understand, but hope the small smile you give is enough to hide your disappointment you can't help but feel. You slide out of his truck and give a careless wave bye. 

'It's fine,' you tell yourself repeatedly as you make your way up to your apartment. 'This is good even'. Obviously you were failing at breaking things off. This could be your chance. You start getting ready for the long, hot shower your body desperately needs.

~☆~☆~☆~☆

Feeling better than you have in awhile, you settle into your couch beginning your search for something to watch. A knock on your door interrupts. Unbelievable.

You open it to once again find Jay standing there, this time donning a red santa hat and holding an oversized box.

"What are you doi-"

He cuts you off. "Do you mind?" You step aside and he comes in placing the box down in the middle of your living room. For the first time you can see clearly what it is he's brought you.

You feel a wide grin take over your face. "You bought me a tree?" He notices your bright smile and beams back at you.

"I bought you a tree. And some decorations. They're in the boxes still in the hallway. I didn't know what you had." You rush to bring them in. Jay begins removing pieces of the tree from the box as you look through the ornaments and lights he's brought. You inspect each one thoroughly and with a smile. Occasionally Jay stops assembling the tree to look at you. When you feel his eyes on you, you turn to him.

"What?" But he just shakes his head and returns his focus to the tree. "You know," you start carefully, not wanting to appear ungrateful, "I do have a few ornaments from when I was a kid downstairs in the storage unit."

"Well, go get them," he grins."I'm good here."

You return a few minutes later. Jay turned on Christmas music while you were gone, as well as finished getting the tree up. The artificial evergreen stands at 6 ½ feet. With it's big, full branches it's easily the nicest tree you've had as an adult. 

Before he starts to string the lights up, he follows you to the couch where you sit with your small container of ornaments. You lift the lid carefully and begin showing them to him. There's an ornament with your name and date of birth on it. One has your kindergarten picture in it. You save your favorite for last and explain the sentimental value behind it. Jay listens intently as you speak and you swear you love him more for it. 

Together you both start decorating the tree, stopping only to make hot chocolate. Soon the tree is fully decorated and there's nothing more to do than admire it. You both sit on your couch taking it all in.

You curl into Jay and almost automatically he wraps his arm around you. "Thank you," you say softly. "For all of this." He pulls you tighter in response and begins combing his fingers through your hair, but the sweet action stirs something in you.

Sighing, you sit up. Jay looks up at you in alarm. "Hey. What's been going on with you? Hmm?" He nudges you playfully, but when you don't speak, he looks dejected and runs a hand quickly through his hair. He says your name softly. "C'mon. You know you can talk to me about anything and it's not like I haven't noticed you pulling away lately."

You look at him and swallow hard, unsure of what to say. "This isn't enough for me, Jay. I'm sorry. I thought it would be, but it's not."

"What's not enough? The tree? I thought you liked it?"

"No, not the tree! The tree's perfect. I love the fucking tree, okay?" Tears are starting to form as your emotions get the best of you.

"Then what? I'm gonna need a little more information. I'm sorry."

"I don't wanna be the coworker you screw around with. I wanna mean something to you, Jay! Not in the we're partners way, either."

"Aw, baby girl." Your heart aches at the endearment he's only ever used in your most intimate moments together. "Come here." He pulls you tight to him and as much as you don't want to, you welcome his strong embrace. He's quiet for a moment as he holds onto you and you're begging the tears not to fall. "I'm gonna need you to look at me." He gently pulls away and cups your face. He stares deep into your eyes. "This thing between us, it's for real; it's never just been casual for me and I am so sorry I didn't tell you that before now. I'm so in love with you."

There's no stopping the tear rolling down your cheek. Jay wipes it away with his thumb. "You mean that?" You ask, your voice hardly above a whisper. He nods. You smile. "I love you, too." The words are hardly out of your mouth before his lips are on yours. He pulls away after a moment, gently resting his forehead against yours.

Your eye catches the clock on the wall. 12:01 in the morning. It's officially Christmas Eve and the man you love, loves you. An almost inaudible laugh escapes you.

"What?" Jay asks, clearly puzzled.

"Nothing. I'm just happy."

[7spaceace7]

Ego Holiday Headcanons

Haven’t decided if I’ll make more after this, but here’s some festive headcanons for the Septic boys! (tagging as Yuletube for my submission for the past two missed days, hope that’s alright!)

Henrik Von Schneeplestein

-The host of the Septic Ego Holiday Celebration (est. 2017)

-STRESSED

-If he wasn’t stressed enough by being a doctor (and parent lmao), HE IS NOW

-Getting all the egos together for the holidays and making sure they DON’T kill each other?? Someone give this man an award

-Everyone keeping their limbs would be his only Christmas wish

-He does not get said Christmas wish (see: Robbie)

-Switches up his black coffee for coffee with peppermint creamer

-Chase eventually hooks him on peppermint tea instead, he knows the Doc needs sleep

-Can be found humming along to the Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy as he cooks holiday dinner

-Definitely has a “kiss the cook” apron

-Chase crossed out the “the” on it with “zhe” in sharpie

-Day 5, Schneep still hasn’t noticed

-Loves it, but still wears his doctor coat on top of it

-Gets very cold easily, so the fire is always burning

-Has a nutcracker collection

-It’s getting out of hand

Chase Brody

-Holidays are,,, hard for him

-Still sends his kids cards and presents, never actually knowing if they get them or not

-They do, I promise

-Wasn’t originally keen on celebrating with everyone, he has a tendency to self-isolate

-But once he gets there, he’s glad he did

-IMMEDIATELY tackled in a hug from Jackie

-”YOU’RE HERE!! Couldn’t start without you, dude!”

-Everyone else smiles and gives the appropriate hug

-(Anti does not, but no eye roll this time at least)

-Absolutely loves warm apple cider and has a good recipe to make his own

-Favorite Christmas movie is Elf, no I do not take criticism

-Has a soft spot for Mickey’s Once Upon A Christmas though because of his kids

-Holiday puns, you CANNOT get this man to shut up with the puns

- “Where’s Anti?” “Up to SNOW good! There’s SNOW way we can REIN him in now!”

-Once it snows, this boy is sledding down every hill in SIGHT

-Teaches Robbie how to catch snowflakes on his tongue

-Marvin makes him a “World’s Best Dad” sweater

-He totally cries and does not take it off the rest of the season

Jackieboy Man

-Christmas is his favorite holiday

-Good luck getting him to sit still around this time

-Has super strength, so he doesn’t quite have the same “don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself” factor that everyone else does??

-Nearly giving Henrik a heart attack everytime he moves, but make it Festive™

-”Guys it’s snowing!!” “JACKIE GET ZHE FAHK OFF ZHE RAILING”

-Slides down the stairs anyway

-Marvin made him a whole ass “ugly supersuit” instead of just a sweater

-It is a w f u l, but on purpose

-Ofc Jackie adores the shit out of it

-Loves snowball fights!

-Always gets targeted by Anti tho

-Eventually it turns into a snowball war

-Pulls Chase over to tag team him, then discovers Marvin has an alliance with Anti

-They will be here a while

-Time to break out the reindeer-themed boxers

-They go along perfectly with his red and blue sweater-suit

-Eventually able to settle down when it gets dark out, bonus points if there’s hot chocolate involved (courtesy of JJ)

-Don’t forget the marshmallows

-Wants to help everybody out with their plans, always does his best

-Even if his best includes falling off a roof

Marvin the Magnificent

-Made everyone sweaters, even Anti

-Spent too much time on the design parts to make em perfect, so he had to rush getting them all sewn

-Uses his magic to sew like three at once

-December 1st, 12:00am is when the Christmas music starts

-Mariah Carey impressions that slowly get higher as the month goes on

-Performs a “Let It Go” rendition that could rival Idina’s during christmas karaoke night

-Switches his regular mask for his holiday one with snowflakes instead of card suits on it

-The decorating master, with JJ as his apprentice

-Favorite part is designing for the lights outside

-Learned a spell to make it look like it’s snowing inside

-Forgot to learn the spell to make it stop snowing inside

-Ended up just sticking with those paper snowflakes dangling on the ceiling

-Asks Jackie for help with the lights on the roof, not because he can’t easily do it himself, he just knows that Jackie likes to help and this is the one thing he knows he can’t break

-Did not expect Jackie to break himself by falling off the roof instead

-Ends up finishing the lights with his magic anyway (after he untangles his boyfriend from the lights, that is)

-Can and will destroy Jackie during snowball fights just because he can

Jameson Jackson

-THIS BOY oh this boy

-Brings out the classic holiday music and sets it up on the gramophone

-LOVES making up dances to the music

-May be a classic boy, but his guilty pleasure is Michael Buble

-(Robbie calls him bubbles whenever he comes on)

-Goes ALL OUT with the holiday baking

-Cookies of all kinds, homemade gingerbread for the houses, so many pies, even learns how to bake his own bread

-Everyone agrees that his pumpkin bread is the best

-Anti especially loves the cherry pie for “aesthetic purposes”

-Has a whole “Twas the Night Before Christmas” puppet show routine

-His job is making the decorations while Marvin sets them all up, it’s a great dynamic

-Definitely makes those traditional popcorn garlands for the tree

-for some reason puts an orange in his stocking?? The others are confused, but he’s so excited so they just let him do his thing

-Now everyone has oranges in their stockings

-They still don’t know what it means

Antisepticeye

-Die Hard is a Christmas movie, dammit!

- “Grinch Bitch” is what his sweater from Marvin says

-Secretly likes it, but fuck off

-Wears it to sleep every night in Winter

-You know that thing where cats get under Christmas trees and swat at the ornaments? Yeah that’s him

-Loves the white elephant gift game

-Ends up getting a present and it’s a turtle

-His name is knives

-KING OF SNOWBALL FIGHTS

-Fills his snowballs with fake blood so they explode on people

- (at least we hope its fake)

-If it doesn’t snow enough, he is the bitch who throws water balloons instead

-Henrik still has work leading up to Christmas, so Anti listens to him rant when he gets home

-Christmas patients are fuckin crazy and he loves it

-One time fell asleep and woke up with a red nose and antlers

-Chase was never safe after that

-Kept the antlers though, they jingle

-Saved them all from Chase’s puns that day

- “Where’s Anti?” *distant, staticky jingling* “Ah there he is”

Robbie the Zombie

-LIGHTS...pretty lights…

-He loves the lights, and will try to eat them if you’re not careful

-Says they’re static candy

-Doesn’t get cold because he can’t feel it, so he often wanders around in the snow

-One time he came home without his left foot and Schneep nearly had a heart attack

-Turns out it froze in the snow and snapped off his leg

-The Great Foot Search Party of 2020

-Please don’t forget to bundle this boy up before going out

-Anti has knitted him a hat and scarf for just this reason

-Henrik was the Proudest Dad that day

-Totally gets to put the star on the Christmas tree every year

-Marvin levitates him high enough

-Favorite holiday movie is The Polar Express

-One time JJ came out with his signature hot cocoa during the movie scene and Robbie was THRILLED

-Talking almost knocked him over thrilled

-Tries to sing along to holiday music, the lyrics don’t work out much

-Really good at keeping a beat though

-Marvin made him a sweater with bells on it

-Adores the bells, flaps the too long sleeves to make them jingle

Shawn Flynn

-Likes Christmas, but like lowkey

-He’s a toymaker!!! He makes adorable toys for all the egos as their presents from him!!

-Didn’t really have a family to go back to in his days at Joey Drew Studios, so he was used to spending Christmas alone, usually working

-NOT ANYMORE!

-Now he has Too Much Family (but in the good way)

-Absolutely gets nicknamed Scrooge at first, probably because he really likes A Christmas Carol and he’s a grump

-Often can be found being pulled off to dance by the gramophone with JJ

-He’s got two left feet, but JJ doesn’t really care

-If anyone still believes in Santa, even just a little bit, it’s because of him

-Has a giant red sack that he fills up with toys he’s made and/or the ones no one could sell back at the studios and donates them to orphanages

-Usually sticks to his old timey clothes, but when he does wear modern Christmas attire like the sweaters, he has,,,no idea how to match things

-It’s ‘cause he’s red/green colorblind

-once asked why Marvin had “yellow” hair

-JJ makes sure that his decorations have lots of blues so it’s not so much strain on his eyes

[sehunniepotwrites]

a day of firsts | j.jh

🎄SYNOPSIS— You didn’t think your first day back at NC Toys would lead to a  boy asking you out on a date, but hey, you weren’t complaining, even if he was dressed in a Nutcracker suit. 🎄GENRE— christmas!au, fluff, humor 🎄PAIRING—jung jaehyun x female!reader 🎄WARNING—cursing, sexual innuendos  🎄WORD COUNT— 2633

It was the first of December and you were heading to your favorite seasonal job: a worker at the famous NC Toys. 

As a lover of Christmas, your younger self always dreamed of working at that famous toy store. You had made so many cherished memories there with your family— moments running through the aisles, waiting in line to talk to Santa, drinking hot chocolate to keep yourself warm, and playing with the people dressed in nutcracker costumes. You loved it all and now, you were about to start your second season at the shop. A rush of excitement hit you as you gave yourself a last-minute check in the mirror. 

You smoothed down the material of your work uniform: an ugly Christmas sweater with a red flared skirt that ended an inch above the knee. Placing a beanie over your head and slipping on your winter coat, you grabbed your bag and keys with a skip in your step.

Locking the door to your apartment, you hurried your way down the staircase and into the winter cold. Something cold nipped at your exposed nose and you looked up to see small specks of snow fall from the sky. A wide grin took over your lips— the first day back on the job and it was the first snowfall of the season. 

You extended a hand towards the sky, hoping to catch a snowflake on your fingertips. Unaware of your surroundings, you weren’t able to catch a tall figure charging his way down the sidewalk. His strong build bumped into yours, sending you down into a pile of snow. The cold seeped through your stockings, wetting the material and you groaned— what would your manager say when you clocked in with a damp uniform? 

“Ow, my shoulder,” a deep voice whispered.

You looked up to see a bundled up man with a bright red coat hanging on his forearm stopping in front of you for a second. He had a black beanie covering his flattened caramel hair but the tips of his red ears peeked out of the hat. You only caught a glimpse of his face but he sure looked handsome in his laid-back fit. He made no moves to help you up— he only stared blankly at your fallen form. 

His dusty eyelashes flickered against his rosy cheeks as he blinked at your figure. “Why are you just looking at me like that?” You whined, slipping on the snow as you attempted to get up. 

His brown eyes widened and the boy quickly bowed his head as he continued his way down the walkway. 

“I’m sorry!” his melodic voice called out. If it weren’t for the unfortunate situation, his voice sounded as sweet as the treats left for Santa. 

“Hey!” you glared at him from your place on the freezing ground. “The least you could do is help me up, you asshole!”

“Sorry,” the handsome boy yelled over his shoulder. He gave you a bright grin, a silver of a dimple coming out to play. “I’m running late for my first day at my new job!”

You watched his figure disappear as you pushed yourself off the sidewalk. “Ugh, how rude,” you muttered as you brushed the snow off your clothing. After checking the floor for any dropped items, you continued on your way to work. You took a second to check your watch for the time and you gasped to see that your shift started in less than fifteen minutes.

Cursing, you quickened your pace, trying to ignore the cold air hitting your skin. You ran into many people along the way as it was the first weekend of the Christmas season; many families were out and about carrying shopping bags filled with intended presents. You murmured more than a couple of half-hearted apologies before you finally made it in front of NC Toys.

Your hands rested against your lap as you huffed for air. Your face was flushed with heat as you tried to calm down your pounding heart— a clear reminder to get back in shape in case this happened again. 

Glancing up, your eyes landed on the teddy bear shaped door handles and the rush of childlike excitement returned. You pushed the doors open only to be hit with the warmth of the store’s heater and Christmas music blasted through the speakers. The bright holiday displays were already set up and parents gathered their children in front of them for pictures. The sounds of delightful laughter filled the room as you continued your way to the back of the store. The familiar scents of gingerbread cookies and peppermint reached your nose and you breathed it in while passing the store’s famed cafe, making a note to drop by during your break. 

You took a glance at a decorated stage in the middle of the store. It was surrounded by nutcrackers and fake pine trees but the stage itself was empty— that was weird. You didn’t remember this set up last year. Shrugging that thought off, you continued going on your way to the back, walking by all the thrilled children waiting to meet Santa. 

Successfully making it into the employee break room, you stripped yourself of your outerwear and  set your belongings down in a locker. Just as you were going to clock in, someone pounced on you from behind with a high-pitched giggle. You knew that voice anywhere.

“Joy!” you squealed, tugging your friend into your arms. Your tall and beautiful friend laughed into the embrace, happy to be reunited with her work wife.

“Second season in a row, baby!” she yelled as she clocked in on the desktop. The system deployed her first assignment and she stepped aside for you to do the same.

“The dynamic holiday duo is back,” you chuckled while clocking in right on time. You grabbed your first assignment and groaned.

“Aww, why the groan?” Joy asked, peeking over to see what you were deployed to do.

“Clean and monitor the stage area, how boring,” you muttered. “Guess they have too many people on the floor right now.” 

Your friend hugged your side, “Aww, I’m at registers but at least you get to see the new nutcracker!”

“Who?” You raised an eyebrow at her. 

“There’s a new nutcracker this year— oh my god, even with all that blush on, he’s so hot,” she said, fanning her face. “Perfectly sculpted face and from what I saw, pretty nice arms, too.”

“First day back and you’re already on the hunt for eye candy?”

Joy gave you a pointed look, “Listen, if you saw him, you would totally fall for him, too.” You rolled her eyes at that comment. You were there to work and Joy was obviously there for other pressing reasons. 

“Mhm, what I’d do just to lick his candy cane,” she muttered under her breath. 

Shrieking, you slapped her arm. “Joy!”

“With a peppermint cond—”

You let out a louder squeal, hands moving to clamp her mouth. 

“I’m just saying,” she said into your hand, licking your palm when you kept it on her mouth for far too long. Wiping your now wet hand onto your skirt, you glared at your friend and she innocently smiled back. 

Someone from behind cleared their throat. You and your friend turned on your heels to find your manager on duty, Kyungsoo, giving you an unamused look. “Day one of the job and I already find you two gossiping like little school girls instead of working?”

Joy sent him a sheepish smile, “Sorry, boss.” You repeated her apology in the same tone, hands playing with the edge of your red velvety skirt. 

He sighed and pointed his finger to the door. “Go,” he commands with an authoritative voice and you scramble out the room with Joy right at your tail. You stopped at the stage area, surprised to see more nutcrackers on display than what you saw just five minutes prior. 

Huh. Weird.

Joy let out a flirtatious giggle the moment she skipped past, shooting a wink at you. Or behind you? You honestly weren’t too sure. Someone coughed behind you but you only saw the stationary nutcrackers. 

Did someone pass by? 

Shrugging at the odd interaction, you sighed upon seeing the area you were assigned to clean. Loose Christmas ornaments surrounded the fake trees, the ropes lining the stage were in the wrong place, and the uniforms of the nutcracker displays weren’t as prim and proper as they usually were. One by one, you hung the ornaments back onto the trees and aligned the ropes, taking you around ten minutes. You whistled along to Christmas songs playing in the background mimicked the announcements that rang through the speakers, having them memorized since the last season. It was an odd habit but it helped fill the void of working by yourself. 

Glancing at your watch, you had ten minutes until the first nutcracker show of the day— you pondered if the new guy Joy was talking about would be part of the spectacular. Stopping yourself, you wondered why you even cared— you were there to earn money not to get attached to a pretty boy that just stood there to take pictures.

Walking to the first of the nutcrackers, you started to fiddle with its skewed uniform. Taking note of its condition, you noticed that there were rips in the costume and faded paint on its face. You clicked your tongue— you had to bring that up to Kyungsoo later. It looked sloppy compared to the shinier ones on display. 

“Five minutes until our Nutcracker Spectacular! Please come to our center stage!” Joy’s cheerful voice boomed through the store’s sound system. You heard the chatter of the crowd approaching your area, sending you into a panic. You needed to finish up with the last nutcracker before the audience arrived.

Making your way to the one standing closest to the stage, you realized this nutcracker looked different than the others lining the area. It’s face was so realistic— it almost looked like a real person. The nutcracker has the brownest of eyes and full eyelashes that highlighted his glossy orbs. There was this rosy blush painted on its cheeks along with a constellation of freckles that brought out the nutcracker’s porcelain complexion. Soft tresses of caramel hair peaked out of its long black hat and you felt tempted to comb the stray strands back but you were running extremely low on time. 

“Geez, this one is such an upgrade compared to the other ones. It looks so real. We need more nutcrackers that look like this,” you said to yourself.

If you were paying more attention, you would have seen the figure you were working on holding back a chuckle.

Your hands immediately reached out to dust some snow off the nutcracker’s chest. Why the display had traces of snow on their uniform, you didn’t know— they never made their way outside the store. Straightening the medals on its breast, you realized this display was sturdier than the others. Must be new material. 

Your nimble fingers danced to the nutcracker’s high collar to fix a piece of stubborn material that was folded down. The warmth of your hand brushed against its neck and you thought you were seeing things when the nutcracker slightly shifted. You blinked before carrying on.

The crowds were approaching fast and you were almost finished. You tugged on the red coat’s sleeves, making sure there were no wrinkles on the material before stepping back to admire your handy work.

“Wow, this one’s really handsome,” you said aloud, before moving forward to fix one last crooked medal. 

Just as your hand touched the decoration, it— rather, he spoke. “Ma’am, I know I’m handsome but could you please stop touching me?” 

“Jesus fucking Christ!” you shrieked so loud, the incoming crowd all turned in your direction. You clamped your shaking hand over your mouth and backed away. 

The boy in the nutcracker sent you a quirk of a smile, the tips of his pink lips turned up to reveal a dip in his painted cheek. “Yes, that is the name of the Christmas birthday boy,” he amusedly whispered. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you hissed back, heat rising to your cheeks. 

“And stop a cutie from calling me handsome? Nah,” he teased, his tone playful and flirty. Aware of the crowd and the Christmas Carol loop stopping, you quickly turned your head and began to walk away. You were stopped, however, by a warm hand to your wrist. It was a minimal movement, not to attract the attention of the big crowd— he didn’t want to ruin the magic of the upcoming show.

“Wait,” he muttered, doing his best to keep his lip closed. “I just wanted to say sorry for bumping into you earlier, I didn’t want to be late for this— I’ve wanted this job for a while.” 

Your eyes searched his sincere ones as his ears flushed with a burning red. “You were the rude guy from before,” you stated in a hushed whisper, your mind flashing back to the handsome stranger. 

“Can I make it up to you?” He tugged on the sleeve of your ugly sweater.

“How would you do that?” your voice flirted back. Wait, where did that confidence come from?

“We clocked in around the same time, yeah?” You nodded in reply.

“How about we take our break together at the cafe? Grab some some cookies and hot cocoa— I’ll pay,” he shyly offered, his confidence disappearing for a short moment. If he wasn’t on stage with an audience, he would be rubbing the back of his neck to deal with his sudden burst of nerves.

“Sounds like a date,” you giggled. The boy released the material of your sleeve, his fingers lighting brushing against yours. You squeezed your hand at the fluttering feels that sent shivers down your spine. 

“One minute before our Nutcracker Spectacular!” Joy’s voice ran through the speakers again.

“Well, I’ll be watching, Nutcracker,” you winked. 

“Jaehyun,” he blurted back.

“Hmm?”

“That’s my name,” he smiled, “Jaehyun.”

“Well then, break a leg, Jaehyun.” Another wink and a smile and you quickly make your way out of the crowd to stand behind the bustle of people. 

The show goes off without a hitch— the children were amazed at the handsome nutcracker coming to life when a girl playing Clara came on stage. They sang familiar Christmas songs, danced with gorgeous smiles on their faces, and laughed happily at the audience interactions. You had fun simply watching them from the back. The best part, though, was when Jaehyun would look over at you and charm you with the brightest grin as he sang. 

Jaehyun braved himself to sing a line with his gleaming eyes directed straight at you. “All I want for Christmas is you,” his baritone voice projected through the microphone. You bit back a smile as he sent you a shameless wink. A few teenage girls in front of you swooned, thinking it was for them, and you shook your head with a ghost of a smile.

Maybe keeping the stage area clean wasn’t that bad of an assignment as you thought it would be. After all, you had some great eye candy in the form of a handsome nutcracker that kept glancing your way.

Checking your watch, you had another two hours until your first break and you couldn’t wait for it to come. And by the looks of it, Jaehyun couldn’t wait either. 

What a way to ring in the holiday season— first shift back at your favorite job, first snowfall of the year, and a first date with a cute nutcracker who won your heart with a corny Christmas song.

🎄AUTHOR’S NOTE— happy december 1st, y’all! i wrote this a month ago and i’m so happy i can finally post it! more fics coming your way this month! stay tuned! uwu

[bo-bo-bean]

Jingle Bell Rock and Roll

Mayday woke up with a grunt, her body feeling lazy and stiff. It usually did in the cold weather since she’s curled up in her blankets. However, Zuke was always an early bird in the winter, making them both cups of hot coffee to get started on the day. She stretched on her bed, not wanting to make it. She didn’t usually, but what was the point? It would get messy again and she loved messy beds. It’s like little caves and entrances.

She leaned over the edge and looked at the bottom bunk upside down. Zuke was already up, as she theorized, and had his bed made neatly. However… this morning seemed different.

She jumped to the bottom, landing on her hands and feet, then scuttled to the kitchen, sniffing the air. She smelled… ham? And some sort of vegetable dish, possibly regular steamed vegetables. She also smelled peppermint brownies, mashed potatoes… what was going on?

She got to the living room, Zuke dressed up in a Christmas sweater that had two drumsticks on it as a design, the sweater itself being green with red sleeves. He looked up, nose and ears red from being in the hot kitchen. Some sweat glistened on his forehead, to which he wiped a cloth on his face and stretched.

“Coffee’s on the table,” he announced to her.

She looked at him and made her way to the table, stumbling over Ellie once and then grabbed her cup. She drank it, the coffee filled with cream and doused with sugar and a hint of vanilla; just the way she liked it. But it also had a peppermint, mocha taste to it. Before she could question, Zuke noted her confused look and gestured to the calendar. She stared at it, almost dropping her drink.

“It’s Christmas Eve!?!?”

With that shock awakening her, she noticed the sewers were decorated. Gingerbread men and cups of cocoa paper cut outs were strung up with red and green lights around the walls, near the ceiling. There was a wreath where the table was, the table itself lined with a red table cloth, a holly centerpiece with nutmeg candles, making the sewers smelling just a bit better. The tree had all sorts of decorations with golden tinsel, white lights, red and green ornaments, and a lovely golden star on top. On TV, which Zuke had recently purchased from tips for his drumming, were some Christmas Classics of all sorts. She blinked and downed her coffee in one swoop. She had been waiting for this day! “Yes!!” she cheered out, running back into the bedroom. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yeeesss!!”

Zuke chuckled and checked on his ham. This year, they both decided to have the artists come over for Christmas. Some were reluctant, but with Tatiana’s encouragement, they all decided, ‘Why not?’ and went with the plan. Mayday was excited since it would be the first year everyone would be together! She felt like she was about to burst…!

She got in the closet and donned on a Santa dress, putting reindeer horns on her head and even adding red make up to her nose, then knee high boots that glistened black like coal. With a hop of joy and a spring in her step, she ran out to Zuke, thinking she could help, but didn’t know the first idea of cooking.

“Wanna set the gifts out?” he suggested. She nodded eagerly, acting like Santa’s little helper and putting the perfectly wrapped gifts under the tree, organizing them neatly. She looked at the stuffed stockings on the wall above a heater that looked like a fireplace. All were filled to the brim with toys, sweets, and all sorts of goodies. Her stocking was the most excitable to see. Zuke was Santa this year, as he always was since Mayday would be too eager to keep secrets and already she saw a little guitar candy dispenser. As if she didn’t need enough sugar. Zuke’s stocking was also full, but he let Mayday fill his and give him presents since he couldn’t do that for himself. She went all out this year for his buddy!

“When will they be here?” she wondered, jumping a bit in place.

“We agreed at two,” he laughed. Mayday whipped her head to see the clock. 9:43!?

“That’s…!” she stopped and counted her fingers. “Seven hours from now!”

“More than enough time to get this dinner ready and do any last minute Christmas shopping.”

She huffed and plopped herself on the couch. Zuke may be patient, but she wasn’t! All those presents needed to be dug into! The candy needed to be devoured! Feasts needed to be in her belly! Although… this did give her an idea. She was saving money and if she could earn a little extra more… she could get this gift for Zuke she’s been wanting to give him. So, sneakily and quietly, she devised a plan.

“Zuke, can I have fifty dollars?”

“Sorry, broke at the moment,” he told her.

Okay, plan A didn’t work. Still, she wouldn’t give up! She quickly grabbed her guitar and whipped it on her back.

“I’m going out!” she announced. Zuke gave a nod and up she went. Not only would she get the perfect gift, but it would be a time waster! She’ll be back and everything would be ready!!

Going through the plaza, it was truly magical. She stopped to take in the moment of the snowflakes drifting down from the skies, the snow piled up high around her knees, just below, and lights strung all about. Even though it was early, it was also dark enough to see them. People were out already, getting gifts and wishing everyone a Merry Christmas as they passed. This was perfect!

She set up in front of the fountain, readying her guitar. She sat down and played, some people coming over and watching. She played some Christmas classics; Frosty the Snowman, Jingle Bells, Silver Bells. As more people gathered, she looked up. “Tips are welcome…!” she beamed. With that, coins and dollar bills were put into a hat a man offered. She happily took requests anyone asked for bigger tips.

As she played, Yinu saw her with her mama, smiling and going over.

“Hi, Mayday!”

The orange girl still played lightly as she looked down at the blonde, then up at the red figure approaching. Yinu was dressed in a lovely silver coat and little boots, her waist in the snow. Her mother wore a golden long coat, smiling at the guitarist.

“Merry Christmas,” she spoke softly.

“Thanks!” she beamed right back.

“Why are you out here playing?” Yinu wondered.

“Just for tips! I have this awesome gift for my buddy and I only need just a bit more!”

The mother gave a smile. Sure, Mayday was a hassle, but so was Yinu. If anything, she saw Mayday as a second child almost. Almost. She dug in her wallet and pulled out a five.

“Hope you get what you need,” she told her. Mayday offered a large smile as the two left, Yinu jumping up and down in the snow in order to get anywhere.

As soon as blisters opened up in her fingers, she stopped playing and bowed. They were cracking under the cold. With a wince she hid well, she bowed before everyone, who offered more tips and left. Mayday emptied the hat, returned it to the man, and sat on the side of the fountain to count the change and bills.

“13.43.. 13.48… 14.50… okay, lots of dollars short but I can’t keep playing…” she huffed. She stuffed the money in her pocket, as well as her hands after swinging her guitar over her back. After double checking to see if she left any change, she found nothing and tried to formulate another plan. “I can’t give up. This is the perfect gift!”

Fifty dollars, that’s all she needed! She glanced at the clock near the center of the plaza, seeing it was at 10:21. She still had time! And she had another plan!

Christmas in Akusuka was always pretty. Pastel sweets, gentle lighting, enchanting vibes all around. And the people here were so nice! Sure, she couldn’t play, but no one said anything about singing!

… okay so she wasn’t a singer. Never was, but that doesn’t mean she shouldn’t try. Going to the center, she shook off her nervousness. People were already crowding around to see what was going on. They could tell already there was a performance.

‘Well if I don’t sing well, I might get pity or comedy money,’ she thought to herself, trying to make herself more comfortable.

With a chilled breath in… she sang. Meanwhile, Zuke got on the couch, watching the movie as he let some food either chill, set, or cook. He had a mental timer in his head. As he watched, Ellie scampered up on the couch and onto his lap. He had put her in a sweater and had a tail stocking so she wouldn’t get cold. He tried mittens, but she kept walking backwards in fear, so he took them off.

He stroked Ellie’s back and began to drum his fingers on it to the tune of Christmas tunes. Ellie appreciated the drumming, it felt like. Although Zuke seemed cool headed at the moment, inside… he was freaking out.

“... you think the food will be okay?” he asked Ellie, not expecting an answer. “I mean… I know the food shouldn’t be a big concern, but I’ve never cooked for so many people. I know they’re bringing food as well, but what if the ham is dry or what if the mashed potatoes aren’t good? What about the gravy? What if-”

“Mraaa!” Ellie squeaked out. Zuke looked down at her and chuckled.

“You’re right, you’re right… I need to chill,” he nodded. He took a sip of his now lukewarm coffee, it being bitter, just the way he liked it. But no one said he couldn’t add some peppermint spice to it.

With coffee in hand and a reptile on his lap, it was impossible to not calm down. He continued to drum his fingertips along her scales, then looked at the clock.

“May’s been out for a while…” he noted. “Think she’s okay?”

Ellie gave a happy look to him, thumping her tail on the couch. He chuckled and booped her snout lightly. “I just want to make this perfect, you know? I’ve never had Christmas with anyone but Mayday… having this would be like the good old times… before college… where… everyone was happy.”

While Mayday looked to the future, Zuke longed for the past. When he had a smile everyday, still admired his brother, not having the huge fight, not fighting a revolution to bring equality to the system… but no one said he regretted it. As long as Mayday was here, how bad could it be for his future?

Mayday finished singing, knowing for sure she squeaked more than a chihuahua with a toy bone on a sugar high. Some people laughed, thinking it was an act and tossed some money. Others left with disgusted faces, some gave pity money. When they left, she counted it up and checked to see if there was any leftover in the snow. Drat… 25.23…

“Oh come on…!” she whined out. “... no it’s okay! I’m halfway there!”

“Oh my! Mayday!” she heard an unforgettable voice pipe up behind her. Sayu, looking as cheerful as ever with the costume of a gingerbread man, as sweet as her.

“Heeeey, Sayu…!” she waved. “What’s happening?”

“Well, I heard a cat crying for help, like it was injured and I wanted to see if it was okay! Have you seen it anywhere?”

Mayday turned a shade of red and looked away.

“U-Um well… you’re staring at her…”

“Huh? Oh. Oooh! Ooh…” Sayu put a finger through her chin as she went through four different emotions at once. “Well you’ll get better, I’m sure of it!”

“It doesn’t matter,” she grunted. “I’m trying to earn money for a great gift for Zuke, but I don’t-”

“For Zuke!?” she gasped. “Did you two finally-!?”

“Noooo! No no, not like that, as buddies!”

“Ehek! Okay, okay! Well, just in case…!”

Sayu offered some money of her own, it being sound seven dollars and… a mistletoe?

“... Sayuuuu…”

“Oh my! How did that get in there?” she giggled. “Well you can keep it! I better go! Bye bye!”

Mayday looked at the money, thankful anyway. … maybe she could sell the mistletoe. Well, time for plan D.

Turns out, you can’t sell mistletoe, so she just tied it to her antlers. Her legs were getting weak and her fingers cold and sore. Not to mention she was red after that embarrassment. So, what do people love on Christmas? Hot drinks! Sure, she’d have to spend SOME money she earned, but she could make a quick buck offering a styrofoam cup of hot chocolate!

She already had her station set up at Metro Division, people swarming for the Christmas merchandise. She found a suitable spot near a popular 1010 shop and got a box, setting up her stands with hot cocoa powder, a powered kettle, cups, and whipped cream. This set her back to 10.23, but it would be worth it! … she thinks.

“Hot cocoa!” she announced. “Enjoy the snowy day of Christmas Eve with a warm, inviting, delectable cup of hot chocolate!”

People were already interested. She charged a dollar a cup, two if they wanted whipped cream. It was all going well until she needed more water, a line forming. “Uuuh just a second folks! I need some water!”

She ran into the store, looking for the bathroom when she saw 1010 gathered at the front. They all looked amazing, dressed as Nut Crackers. So handsome… gentlemanly… No no, get it out of your head!

She rushed to the bathroom, filled the kettle, and then rushed back out, bumping into Rin.

“Ah! White! Rin! Hot! Um, water is hot! Uh, going to be hot! Um, hi!” she stuttered over her words like gravel. Rin chuckled lightly.

“What elegance such as yourself doing alone on a cold day like today?” he raised an eyebrow. Mayday could feel herself melt, forgetting the cold.

“A-aaah um just… you… no I mean, me. Uh, no, I am just… selling hot 1010, CHOCOLATE!! Hot chocolate! Uh, need to! Um, money and…”

Rin couldn’t help but giggle at her flusteredness. It was honestly adorable. His giggle drove Mayday’s pink face to a full on red.

“I’d love to try some, seeing it would be made by your amazing hands, but alas, I cannot have liquids…”

She nodded respectfully, or tried to without going into a puddle of swoon. “But perhaps I can help…”

He went to his brothers and then came back with what seemed to be a twenty dollar bill. May’s heart sky-rocketed. All of the money she lost, it was now paid back. She gleefully took the bill and hugged Rin, her up a foot off the ground.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank yooouuuuuu!!!”

Rin laughed and let her hug him for a bit more before hoisting her by the waist and putting her on the ground.

“Can’t wait to see you at the party…~” he lifted her chin before walking off. She sighed out in a shakily manner, but slapped herself silly and got right back to work!

The line was long and some people were leaving, so she had no time to lose. As she poured cups, everyone was making a hassle.

“Hey, I asked for whipped cream…!”

“Uh, that isn’t nearly enough powder…”

“Excuse me, is this gluten free?”

“Hey, too much powder!”

“I didn’t ask for whipped cream!”

In the struggle, she poured a cup too quickly, hot water making contact with her hand. She yelped and held it, feeling it already blistering up. With some breaths and a few tears in her eyes, she quickly finished up and ran to an alleyway, putting snow on her burn and then looking at it. It looked bad… really bad… Maybe Zuke would know what to do, but she had to focus!

Back at the money, she counted. 34.23! She was getting close!! So it was off to Dream Fever!!

Zuke finished checking the ham, his heart racing a little. 11:43… Where was Mayday? Why was she out for so long…? He would check on her, but that would be a risk of burning the place down. He grabbed his phone and shot a message.

‘hey, mayday this is zuke. get back to me when you can.’

He sent it, staring at the phone for five minutes until it buzzed. He snatched it up and looked.

“I’m good, buddy! Almost done and then I’ll be home! Hey, can you make those gingerbread men that look like instruments?”

He chuckled and texted back an agreed answer, thankful she was okay, at least… Still, he couldn’t help but worry about her. They’ve been buddies for a long time. Without her, it was like there was no fire to help his waters warm up. And her without him, who would douse her out? Still, if she was doing well, giving her some time was the least he could do. He turned his attention to the pie dough he was rolling and got right back to it. “... just please be home soon…” he sighed.

The Dream Fever district. A land of confusion and puzzlement to Mayday. She had to think of another plan… She can’t strum, her fingers were aching, freezing the wounds. She couldn’t sing, she couldn’t make cocoa… what else could she do…? She looked down with a thought and then perked up. Dancing!! She loved to dance, no matter how goofy! Her and Zuke danced and waltz around all of the time in the sewers before collapsing on the ground, laughing. He brought her so many laughs… so much joy. She needed this gift...

Walking her way through, she couldn’t tell the difference of the decorations since everything was so… artsy. Since she couldn’t make cocoa anymore, a bright idea of selling the kettle popped in her head. After going into an antique shop and warming up, she sold it and took the time to look at her hands. A blister the size of a ping pong ball rested on her left hand, her fingertips covered in dried blood. She shoved her hands in her pockets, feeling the money. She forgot the pain for a few seconds and got five dollars back for the kettle.

Now it was time to bust a move!! … although she had no idea what music was playing. It was so… off. Sure, it had some jingle bells and little sparks, but that’s all she could hear. Nonetheless, she did her best to dance! She stepped left… then right. ‘Good start, good start.’ She stepped back and took a jump forward, matching her moves to the beats as much as she could. She swayed her hips a bit to make it look like she was dancing and make people crowd around with confusion.

With a grin, she beamed at them all and did little dances, rolling her arms with each other, moonwalking, all she could think of in a moment’s panic. Some offered some coins, rarely bills, then left. Whatever, she just needed enough! As she attempted to skid across the ‘stage’, she yelped as her leg gave out. Something hurt. Her ankle, it must’ve popped. Watchers winced and offered hands, but she was in a lot of pain. She didn’t show it through sadness, but frustration.

“Stupid snow!!” she shouted at it, punching it. “Stupid ice!!” She punched a nearby ice puddle, it crackling. “Stupid, stupid, stupi-”

“Mayday!”

Eve and Tatiana both rushed over. They helped her to a bench and sat with her.

“What is going on?” Tatiana demanded to know.

“I’m… trying to get money,” she sheepishly admitted to Kul Fy-er Tatiana.

“Money? From that monkey circus act you did?”

“Hey, no need to rub it in!” she snapped at Eve. “I’ve been doing all sorts of things to try and get Zuke a perfect gift! I’m earning money, too! So that’s something.”

“You’ve earned 5.25 from that dance.”

“It’s something!”

“Mayday, you need to relax,” Tatiana offered. Mayday looked at the clock, seeing the time was now 12:37.

“No! No, time!” she stumbled to her feet. Her ankle was shooting with pain, but she trudged along. Eve looked at Tatiana, who sighed.

“I’ll keep an eye on her.”

Mayday sat down after a while, breathing heavily. She counted the money…

“Okay, 34.23 plus… 10.25… five and three make eight… two plus two is four… eighty four cents and… 44…! 44. 84! Yes, so close!!”

She took a break and tried to think of another plan… she just had to think of something. Her mind was running on fumes. It hurt… Her head hurts so much… “... for Zuke…” she told herself, struggling to stand again. “For Zuke… For Zuke… For Zuke… what would he do…?”

… she knew what he would do. Go back home to her and relax… but she can’t do that! She has to get more money! She was so close!! Something, something… anything…

She found herself in front of the planetarium an hour later, panting and wheezing. She was cold… in pain… but this was the last resort. She opened the doors, DJ Subatomic Supernova taking a glance.

“Mayday?” he tipped his head.

“Please…!” she got on her knees. “I-I need some money…! Just some…! Enough…!”

“... I didn’t think begging would be something you would do,” he admitted with a chuckle. But when he saw her wounds, he quickly got up from his seat and went to her side. “What on Earth…?”

“Just some…! Any…!”

“Mayday, this begging seems preposterous. You are injured, you need to go back home. The party is-”

“Don’t remind me!!” she snapped. “I know about the party! I cracked my fingers open, I have a boil on my hand, I twisted my ankle, humiliated  myself in front of an entire district! Two of them!! I know about the party, I’m trying to get a present for Zuke! I’m so close! I need… I need…”

She couldn’t think of the amount, she felt so tired. DJSS quickly grabbed his jacket and wrapped it around her.

“Take this,” he told her. “You simpletons are always so fragile.” He tried to crack a joke, but saw it wasn’t the time. “Apologies.”

“Wh-whatever… just… I need… I need… money…”

He could only look at her and then got up. He got a bill and offered it. Mayday took it, seeing it was ten dollars. This… this was it. It was enough! She beamed and hugged it, tearing up.

“Perhaps you want to rest before you-”

“Thank you!!!”

She sprang to her feet, clutching the jacket and wincing before running out with a limp. He held out a hand… but then put it down.

“... my jacket…”

Getting close. Getting close. That’s what she repeated to herself as she ran to the store. There was the poster. Electronic drumsticks! That would make the perfect beats, never break, had grips! She saw Zuke eyeing them, talking about them, and they were only $250.00, which she had! Her leg felt like it was about to give out. Faster, faster, faster!!

Before she could take another step, she slipped down onto the ice. Her head hit the ground, ice cracking under. Her vision blurred as the clock chimed 2:00. Coins rolled out to some sewer grates that weren’t fully frozen over yet and her bills fluttered out and into the wind. With a squeak, she passed out on the ground.

“Mayday?” Zuke looked in the bedroom. Almost everyone was here except for her… he had texted, but no response. When the other artists told him they’ve seen her, it brought him some relief.

DJ Sub quickly clattered down the ladder. She opened the door, panting.

“DJ?” Zuke looked up at him.

“Fashionably late, as al-”

“May’s in trouble!” he sputtered out, interrupting Eve’s comment. They all went silent, Zuke going pale.

“... trouble…?”

2:50. Mayday had curled up in an alleyway, head throbbing and sniffling. She messed up… she messed it all up… how could she? How could she not get this very special gift for her buddy?

People stopped and asked if she was okay, but she ignored them. The streets were already plucked clean of the dollar bills by lucky passerbyers. She didn’t care. She messed up Christmas. She let her friend down… and she was cold…

She curled up in the jacket, wanting to search the pockets, but she wouldn’t stoop that low.

“... I just want to hear Zuke…” she wobbled out a sob. “... just… please…”

He must hate her, she thought. What kind of friend was she? She just let down her bestest buddy…

“Mayday!!”

“And that’s how it would start…” she shrugged. “Shouting my name in anger…”

“Mayday! Hey!”

“I would get the lecture… the hate…”

“Mayday!! Over here!!!”

“And he wouldn’t want to see me…”

“Mayday!!!!!”

The louder shout made her look weakly, seeing Zuke, looking worried as hell.

“Zuke…” she blinked, more tears falling out. The artists were behind him, looking worried as well. She looked up at him… then sobbed. “I’m sorreeheeheee!!!” she wailed, hugging his legs. They were so warm. “I didn’t mean toohoohoo! I didn’t!! I wanted to-wanted to make this-this the best Christmas for you!” She stopped only by her hiccups and coughs, hugging his legs tighter. The artists could only watch in sadness and awkwardness. “You wanted those drumsticks! I know you did! B-but I did everything I could! I sang, I sold cocoa, played songs, danced, begged! I had it all! And then I fell from my ankle and it’s gone! It’s all gohohone!!”

“... May…” he bent down to her, wiping away her cheeks. Mayday sniffled in, covered in tears and snot. “I don’t need those drumsticks…”

“B-but you wanted them!” she wailed. He stopped her by putting his hands on her cheeks, warming them up.

“Wanted. But Christmas… this Christmas, what I NEEDED was you… my best buddy…”

“... Zuke…” she wiped her eyes. He offered a gentle smile and scooped her up. She put her head against his chest, whimpering. She was so cold. She just wanted to go home now…

An hour later, Mayday opened her eyes, seeing Ellie on her belly and Eve next to her. She looked up at her, Eve smiling. She looked down, her ankle wrapped, fingers bandaged and her head having a warm damp cloth on it.

“... did I pass out…?” she weakly asked. Eve gave a nod and offered some hot chocolate. She took it and drank it down. Zuke rushed over, breathing a sigh of relief as he offered her a plate of dinner.

“... Mayday… you doing okay?”

“... I still feel horrible… emotionally and physically…”

“... May…” he sighed a bit. “You had me worried sick…” With shame, she averted his gaze until he propped something on her lap. She looked down, it being a present. “Open it.”

She was about to argue that presents were after dinner, but seeing his face, she couldn’t refuse. A little painfully, she took off the wrapping until Zuke helped, there being a box. She opened it, looking inside. Guitar picks… no… not just guitar picks.

Specially made picks with pictures on her, Zuke, Ellie, Tatiana, everyone on them all specially made. There were so many, even memories she almost forgot. Their first Christmas party, when they first met, Zuke doing Mayday’s hair, Mayday messing up Zuke’s hair, when they got Ellie… she couldn’t help but tear up for the second time that day.

“... these are… these…”

“Merry Christmas…” he smiled. She looked up at him, lip quivering. Tatiana secretly had a camera ready, set up to take a shot. Mayday put the box aside, quickly jumping on Zuke, hugging him, sobbing.

“I love you, Zuke!” she wailed in his shoulder. “Th-thank you! Th-thank yoohoohoouu!!”

He smiled and hugged her back, then lifted her up a bit. He saw the mistletoe in her antlers, giving a chuckle.

“Was that on purpose?” he wondered. Mayday was confused at what he meant, but when she felt her antlers, she blushed.

“I-... not really,” she chuckled. Zuke giggled and sat up, planting a platonic kiss on her forehead, the camera clicking right then.

“T-Tatiana!” Zuke scoffed.

“I got you kiddos and this picture is being saved,” she laughed. Mayday couldn’t help but giggle and hug Zuke again.

“... wish I couldn’t gotten you those drumsticks though… they were the perfect gift..”

“Mayday… you are the perfect gift for me…”

With that, they officially got the party started, but Zuke stayed with Mayday most of the party. Not only tending to her wounds, but making sure she was happy. And with Zuke and these artists who claimed her as family… how could she not be?

@nsr-simp

[yourfinalbow]

Ack anon I'm sorry. Tumblr ate your ask and I'm 🔪 But I saved your ask to put on the Google Doc so don't fret! I have it!

“Hi Ghastie Ghast, I wanted to share a prompt with you lol. I decided to go more holiday theme’d because it’s never too early to get into the holiday spirit.

“Your favorite winter drink was back on the menu, so I decided to surprise you with it.”

Please enjoy this prompt lmao”

The nickname made me -_- but hi Little Gray Circle Dude With Sunglasses! Thank you for sending me this! I had fun writing it. I'm assuming you wanted a Destiel fic, so that's what I wrote! (Also bonus points for Saileen as a background ship?) I sort of strayed a little from the prompt and the tone gets heavier as it goes on… 👀 I also accidentally wrote more than intended, so you can read it on Ao3 if that's easier. (And maybe give it a kudos because you’re the best?)

Title: Black Coffee Derangement Syndrome

Ship(s): Dean Winchester/Castiel, Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy.

(Basic) Tags: Fluff, Slight Angst, Domesticity in the Men of Letters Bunker, Established Dean/Cas, Established Sam/Eileen, Using black coffee as a metaphor for hypermasculinity, With a whip cream style topping of internalized homophobia. *Finger guns.*

Warnings: Coffee gatekeeping and small sections of fluff that are as sweet as Cas’s Starbucks order. Also I’ve been to Starbucks once. Maybe twice? (Also a single mention of a drug that's commonly found as white powder, the non-descriptive comparison of Sam’s stupid health stuff with emesis, and use of the name that the figurehead for Germany in WW2 bore, just to be safe.)

Rating: T? Maybe? For language?

Word Count: 9k+

Quick thanks to my awesome beta @walksinstarllight! They are a poet and a writing sorcerer (wizard without a hat), and the only reason this fic even makes sense so please go shower them in kudos. (You can find their work here.)

Another thanks to @internetintroverts, who described a peppermint mocha to me in like 300 words because I drink black coffee and know nothing of anything ever. You can find their work here! (There's an Easter egg of one of their fics in this one hehe.)

The first thing Dean did when Cas got back from the Empty was give him coffee.

Okay no.

The first thing he did was fall into Cas’s arms and grip that stupid trenchcoat until his knuckles turned white. Shaking and laughing with hot tears streaming out of his eyes, he told him he was an asshole for leaving him like that. And to never, ever do it again. With blurry eyes and all other thoughts hazy, he told Cas he could have it, he could have what he wanted. Whatever he wanted. He told Cas he loved him too.

But then the next thing was coffee.

Caffeine is a hunter’s number one best friend, and since Cas was human again, Dean knew Sam was going to come at him with his stupid green health drinks and herbal tea. As Cas’s knight in shining armour, (a title used by Dean and Dean only), it was his duty to protect him from the disgustingly liquified rabbit food.

Now he expected Cas to like black coffee, you know, like a normal person.

But no, oh no. Apparently, he was dating a heathen.

Dean had to actually rub his eyes the first time he watched Cas fix his own coffee. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen, mouth agape.

Cas was leaning on the counter, humming some song that Dean could neither recognize, nor would he approve of, thank-you-very-much.

(Ok it was Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift and it's entirely possible he's listened to it once or twice but he still doesn't approve of it, thank-you-very-much.)

He held his yellow and black striped, bee-themed ceramic mug Eileen had bought him in one hand, and the entire five-pound bag of cane sugar in the other. And there he stood, happy as can be, pouring it directly into his mug.

Dean rubbed his eyes again.

And not even like, a normal amount either.

He just kept pouring, and pouring, and Oh my god he’s still pouring. Dean thought. It would honestly be more believable if it wasn’t sugar at all, and instead was in fact Cas’s secret stash of cocaine.

Dean might actually have to put sugar on the grocery list after he was finished.

His thoughts traveled back to Ishim doing the same thing with his coffee, in the tiny little diner Cas had set up as a meeting place. Dean had barged in that day, not thinking of his brother mocking him, or the possibility of danger inside. His vision was as tunneled as his thoughts  focused only on Cas, not caring about anything else.

By that time the following day, Dean thought they were both going to die. The bloody and uneven sigil on the wall, Cas no more than ten feet away. Not quite within a comforting reach. The room was spinning from the blow to his head, and he could barely make out the words being spat from Ishim’s mouth.

“You blast me away, you’ll blast away every angel in the room. I’ll survive. Castiel, on the other hand, he’s hurt. He might live, or he might just end up a bloody smear on the wall.”

He almost lost Cas that day.

The blood rushed to his ears as his instincts sought out the mark on the wall. Ishim had told him to roll the dice, but in his head he couldn’t look past the chance of rolling a one. Watching the acrylic cube bounce until it decided Cas’s fate. There was no dilemma, there wasn’t even a decision to be made. He would always choose Cas over himself. Silent acts of care he could never vocalize.

An inability to speak formed from fear and cowardice. Like a lion in his stomach scratching at the words until they fell back down his throat.

And it was that inability to speak that led Cas to think he was nothing more than a tool for the Winchester’s to use.

He almost let Cas believe he meant nothing to him.

Dean cleared his throat. “Mornin’ Sunshine.”

Cas set down the bag of sugar and picked up the pot, the glass making a small clink as it hit the top of the coffee maker. “Goodmorning Dean. Would you like any coffee?” He greeted cheerfully, turning around like he hadn't just put enough sugar to make a pound cake in his coffee.

“Uh.” Dean was still caught off-guard by Willie Wonka over there. “Sure Cas.” He took the coffee pot from his hand and muttered a thank you.

“So,” Cas started while Dean reached into the cabinet for his own mug. “What ingredient do you suggest I put in my coffee this morning?”

“Uh...I don't know man. I drink my coffee black.”

“Yes I know you’re boring Dean, but you can still help me not be.”

“Black coffee isn't boring it's-”

“Dean, if you say ‘manly,’ I will sit you down and make you eat only spinach and kale for a week.” Sam said, walking into the kitchen, hair still spiked up from sleep. He used one hand to sign the words, his other one occupied by Eileen, who was sleepily shuffling closely behind.

Dean looked aghast. “I would starve.” He attempted to sign his indignant response, hands moving sloppily while holding both his mug and the coffee pot.

“I think that's the point.” Eileen said, laughing. She looked at Cas. “Is Dean gatekeeping your coffee aspirations again?”

“Yes.” He answered, ignoring Sam’s laugh and Dean’s huff of exaggerated outrage.

“Have you tried cinnamon?” Sam suggested. “You like Dean’s apple pie, and that has cinnamon in it.”

“I’m not so sure about that, Sam. Dean told me not to ever take cooking advice from you.“

“And I stand by that.” Dean interjected suddenly.

“I can cook!”

“Ehhh…” Eileen’s comment bought her a look of betrayal. “Though Sam may be right on this one, you might like it.” She shrugged.

“See.”

Cas pondered the thought for a moment. “Perhaps I will then.”

“Do we have nutmeg?” Eileen said, breaking away from Sam’s grip to check one of the cabinets. He walked to the other side of the kitchen, intending to look through the spice rack, knowing exactly what his girlfriend was getting at.

“You better not mess up my damn kitchen.” He said quickly. “Or you're organising them all next time.”

Sam rolled his eyes, knowing full well Dean would never let him organise the kitchen. Eileen looked through them, carefully turning the bottles around until the labels faced her. She pulled out the cinnamon and clove while she was looking for the nutmeg.

“Found it.” Sam called from the other side of the kitchen, walking over and putting a hand on Eileen’s shoulder.

“Thank you.” She said with a smile, grabbing the plastic spice jars.

She individually tossed each one to Cas. “Use these, it will taste like a pumpkin spice latte.”

“And don't forget the milk.” Sam added.

Cas scrambled to catch the spices, successfully grabbing two of them out of the air, the third one intercepted by Dean.

“What’s a pumpkin spice latte?” He looked at Eileen before snatching the bottle of cinnamon from Dean.

“It's a famous drink you can get at Starbucks.” Sam answered.

Cas tilted his head to the side and squinted at him. “What's a Starbucks?”

“You know, the coffee shop Alex and Patience drag Jody to all the time.” Dean said.

“I’m pretty sure Donna drags her there too.” Sam added. “Something about girl’s date night out.”

“The one Claire says is for ‘basic bitches’?” He lifted his hands, forming air quotes as he spoke.

“Yeah.” Dean answered, quietly laughing. “That's the one. She’s probably right, too.”

Cas carefully put the different spices in his coffee, eyeing the mug warily. His light brown coffee now had specs of...stuff in it.

(And unbeknownst to him, there was also a small pile of sugar at the bottom, the coffee so saturated it wouldn't dissolve any more.)

Eileen laughed at the look on his face. “It's good, I promise.”

Sam turned to look at her. “How would you know? Most of the time you get hot chocolate and spike it with bourbon.”

“You’re the one who gets a Pink Drink.”

Dean choked on his coffee. “What?”

“It's strawberry and coconut milk, and it's delicious.”

“Sure it is Sam.” Eileen jabbed.

“So what I'm getting here is that not only have you two been to Starbucks often enough to have a regular order, but Sam gets something called a ‘Pink Drink’?”

“No…” Sam started, trying to find a way to defend them. “Sometimes we…”

“...Make our own drinks.” Eileen snapped her fingers as she finished for him, attempting to save them from the endless stream of good-natured insults Dean would throw at them otherwise.

“Well you two are a real Martha Stewart, aren't you?”

“Yeah, except she's a convicted criminal.” Sam attempted to snark back.

“So are you!”

Before either of them could respond, Cas shoved his mug into Dean's face. “You have to try this, Dean. It tastes like pumpkin pie.”

Dean carefully grabbed the hot mug from Cas and took a sip. He was right, it did taste kinda like pumpkin pie. He took another sip, letting the pleasant flavor sit on his tongue. The different spices mixed perfectly together.

“I mean it's… okay.” He lied.

Dean contemplated his pumpkin themed food options. “Though I would rather just have pumpkin pie.”

Cas took his mug back. “Fine. More for me.” He said with a smirk, mimicking the look Dean gives him every time Cas says he doesn't want anymore bacon, before taking another sip of the makeshift pumpkin spice coffee.

Dean smiled at him, setting his own mug down and moving Cas’s out of the way to pull him into a kiss. He could smell the nutmeg almost as much as he could taste the cinnamon on his lips.

“Mmm we should bake pumpkin pie tonight.” He said, pulling away just enough so he could talk.

“I would like that.” Cas answered. “All four of us could make pie. According to the 'mom blogs', as you call them, it would be a good family bonding exercise.”

“That’s right. And if they want any pie, they gotta help make it. That means more for us if they refuse.” He grinned.

“A win-win situation, really.” Cas smiled before tugging Dean close so their lips met again.

“I love you.” Dean muttered.

“I love you too.” Cas said softly.

Behind their backs Sam and Eileen were fake-gagging at their sickly sweet interaction, but secretly just glad the two of them had finally gotten over their stubborn (and oblivious) selves.

Sam was honestly overjoyed to see his brother finally happy. He would even go as far as saying finally willing to be himself, too. (Not that he would ever say this outloud. Sam can practically see Dean’s eyes roll farther back into his head than should be possible at the words.) All four of them had gone through more shit in the last few months than any normal person would in their entire life. They were all just lucky to be alive, and with that, learning how to savour the little moments of overly sweet normalcy.

(And the pumpkin spice-life Dean had secretly been longing for since they were little kids.)

So of course they were going to help bake pie.

---

“I want to try Starbucks.” Cas said the next morning, both of them still in bed.

Dean groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Can I ask why, or is this one of those, 'I'll tell you later’ disasters like with the slime ingredients?”

“I want to try all the human things that I didn't get to try last time.” He said offhandedly.

Dean pictured Cas’s hurt face when he had told him he couldn’t stay, smile broken as Dean’s own heart shattered from the look the newly-human angel was giving him.

He wanted to tell him it was going to be okay, that Cas himself wasn’t the reason, but the lion in his stomach clawed the words down faster than even the thought of ruining Sam’s chances at survival could.

With a pang of guilt from the memory, Dean pulled himself closer to Cas and rested his head on the other man’s chest. He wrapped his arms around him, trying to preserve as much warmth and comfort as he could until they had to inevitably get out of bed. “Only if you let me sleep like this for thirty more minutes.”

Cas smiled. “Oh, are we making deals now?”

“I’d sell my soul for you.” Dean said cheekily, which earned a glare from Cas. “Believe me, I know.”

After a beat he went on. “Fine, you have a deal.” Before Dean could celebrate by tugging the covers over their bodies, Cas added another clause to their agreement. “But... in true Crowley fashion, you have to seal the deal with a kiss.”

Dean lazily threw his arms into the air. “Victory.”

He turned over, pulling himself upwards until he was just inches from Cas. Cradling the angel-turned-Winchester’s head in his hands, Dean placed his lips on Cas’s, melting into the touch as he felt the other man’s arms wrap around his torso.

When he broke away from the kiss, Dean found himself face to face with the most beautiful smile he had ever laid eyes on, one born from adoration and love. Cas’s eyebrows were slightly scrunched up, but for once it wasn’t a sign of confusion when met with some obscure eighties rock reference. It was a tiny expression of care, and it was one that was truly Cas. Not Jimmy’s, not even one Cas had picked up from him or Sam. It was completely and wholly Cas, and a completely and wholly human thing to do.

He realized Cas had been doing that long before the Empty stole his grace.

Dean smiled back at him, relaxed. Like taking in a deep breath after being under murky water for forty years. He brushed a loose strand of soft, brown hair into its place, before falling back into his spot and closing his eyes. “Crowley would be proud.” He whispered with a soft laugh, smile deepening as Cas joined him.

When their quiet laughter died out, there was a pause, air stagnant and in its own sleepy haze

“Oh and Dean?”

“Hm?” Dean turned his head to look at him, eyes not failing to glow with their unusually bright, green pigment. He took a deep breath, the lids of his eyes already started to slowly fall back down again.

“The slime wasn't a disaster. You enjoyed it.”

“I did.” He muttered sleepily, a loose smile forming on his lips as he drifted off to sleep. Cas laid there, running his fingers through the other man’s hair, contentment and admiration showing itself in every feature on his face.

This was more than he could have ever wanted.

---

“Dean. Dean wake up.” Cas was excitedly whisper-shouting in his ear like a kid on Christmas morning. It was exactly thirty minutes later, (he had counted), and Cas was ready to get moving.

“No.” He answered back, mimicking Cas’s tone.

“But you’re like a cat.” He teased. “You're on me and I can't get up.”

Dean sighed. “I can't believe I let you talk me into this.”

“It didn't take much convincing.”

Dean rolled over to give Cas a playful glare, but was met with the saddest puppy dog eyes he had ever seen, completely throwing him off his guard.

“I'm going to kill Sam for teaching you that.”

Cas just continued to give him that look.

“Fine.” Dean relented, sitting up with a yawn and thinking about how he will now never be able to win another argument.

“Get dressed.” Cas said excitedly. “We're going to Starbucks.”

“Hooray.” He gave a sarcastic laugh, but a smile creeped on his lips.

They walked out of their room together, heading towards the bunker’s library. Dean slid in one of the chairs, turning Sam’s still-open laptop around and waking it up.

Cas, meanwhile, turned to a random page of the lore book resting on the table and started reading in an attempt to pass the time.

The sound of Dean typing filled the air. “So, I just looked it up, and do we have to go to Starbucks?”

“Yes.” Cas said simply, not looking up from the book.

Dean groaned. “Cas there isn't one in the county, let alone Lebanon. That's probably why Sam and Eileen make their own.”

“Where's the closest one?” Cas asked, his blinding, blue eyes glaring at the back of Sam’s computer like he was trying to will the coffee shop to be near.

“I thought it was across state lines and in Nebraska at first, but it looks like there's a small one in a town called Washington. It's about 80 miles from here.”

“Let's go!” Cas excitedly straightened his trenchcoat and headed towards the door.

“Or, we could leave Starbucks to the fourteen year old girls.”

Cas turned back around and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m sure their entire demographic is fourteen year old girls, staff included.”

Alright, smartass. Dean thought, struggling to hide a smile.

Cas walked out the door, expecting Dean to follow.

“It takes an hour to get there, our coffee’s going to be cold by the time we get home, and it's freezing outside.” Dean muttered under his breath, but he grabbed his keys off the table and stood up, willing to follow Cas to the ends of the earth if it meant he would stay with him.

Not that he was going to enjoy this trip. In fact, he was currently doing the opposite of enjoying, and they hadn’t even gotten into the car yet. Starbucks. Starbucks. Really, Cas? Of all the places he wanted to go, it had to be Starbucks. He couldn’t want to explore humanity through Target or something?

Even Claire wouldn’t be caught dead in that place, with all the frou-frou toppings, elaborate drink mixes, and colourful, drizzled syrup. The people who go to Starbucks are the kind of people who like coffee that doesn’t taste like coffee. Teenage girls who might as well just be drinking whip cream, and that was without considering the seasonal drinks they fawn over.

Seasonal drinks that shouldn’t legally be allowed to be referred to as coffee.

Dean couldn’t believe he ever agreed to this, but still, he begrudgingly followed.

---

Using the GPS on Cas’s phone, (Dean said his insane directional skills helped out too), they found the Starbucks relatively easily once they were in the little town.

They parked the Impala, and Dean looked at the modern building. The green lettering contrasted with the tan plaster walls, spelling “Starbucks.”

He heard Cas get out, his feet making a crunching noise as they hit the gravel, and watched from across the top of the car as he started towards the coffee shop. Dean looked at the building warily, reluctance painted on his face.

Cas was telling him some random fact about a bird he saw, but Dean could only think about his reputation that was about to shatter like a vase dropping on tile floor.

Reputation with who? He didn't know.

Well, he had a vague idea, but chose not to let his thoughts wander that far.

It was okay. This was fine. He could swallow his pride and-

“Ooh. The peppermint mocha looks good.” Cas was reading the limited edition drinks on the drive-thru menu as they traveled across the parking lot.

Dean was going to barf.

They walked into the building, immediately hit with the overwhelming smell of excessive amounts of flavoured syrup indoused coffee. Dean glanced around the well-lit building, taking note of the many different people there.

(He wasn’t about to have any black-eyed minions reporting his Starbucks order to a very judgmental Queen of Hell.)

Cas pushed Dean’s protesting body into the line, looking pleased with the many different options written on the menu overhead.

He enjoyed the small touch of Cas’s hands on his back, moving him forwards to the line, but was grateful Cas was careful not to let them linger there too long.

He was still wary about doing… this, in public.

He knew Cas was patiently waiting for him to be ready, so he didn't know how to tell him that he might never be.

The teenager working the cash register interrupted his train of thought. “What will it be for ya?”

“I would like a peppermint mocha please.”

“Alrighty. And you?”

“I'll take just a black coffee.”

The barista looked unimpressed. “And your names?”

Dean grinned. “John and John.”

“No relation.” Cas added.

The barista just sighed. “How do you want me to differentiate the two of ‘em then?”

“Oh you can put ‘John Bonham’ on mine.” Dean replied.

“Comin’ right up.” Their tone didn't change, still just full of apathy that could only be perfected by the work of a burnt-out teenager.

Dean and Cas walked down to the end of the counter and towards the pickup section. “Now tell me, Castiel.” He stressed his partner’s name. “Who’s John Bonham?”

Cas sighed, but the corner of his mouth upturned in a grin. “John Henry Bohnham, affectionately referred to as ‘Bonzo’, born in 1948 and was most well known for being the drummer of the rock band ‘Led Zeppelin’.”

“Mmm very close, but unfortunately you forgot the word ‘best’ in front of ‘rock band.’” Dean smirked before leaning in for a chaste kiss.

“You should have said I was ‘John Bon Jovi.’” Cas said, smiling.

“Why? Because you’re only good at this sometimes?” Dean closed the gap between them.

As soon as their lips met, Dean pulled away instinctively, realization hitting him like a hunter with a bat as his eyes widened in terror. “I-I'm sorry, I didn’t...” His words faltered as he looked around at the people sitting in the coffee shop, all of which were paying no mind to them.

He felt sick, guilt gnawing at him from a pit in his stomach.

“Hey, it's okay Dean. You know I'm perfectly fine with public displays of affection, and no one else even saw us. There's no need to apologize.”

“Yeah-h.” He said shakily. Before he could figure out who he was apologizing to, a voice from behind the counter called.

“I have an order for a mister ‘John’ and ‘John Bonham’.”

“That's us.” Dean spat the words out quickly, turning around to take them from the barista’s hand. He rushed out of the door, the small tinkling sound of the welcome bell and the blood rushing to his ears drowning out the sound of Cas’s call from behind.

He sat in the front seat of Baby, knowing he was being childish. Dean took a shaky breath and tried not to think about it.

About what the hell he was thinking, kissing Cas out in public like that. The judgemental eyes- black or not- that were watching. He thought about what his father would say, mind instantly going back to a moment in his childhood he has tried to forget since it happened, wondering where he went wrong.

About the time John had caught him and Lee, ignoring the weak excuses Dean was stuttering out. Skipping town faster than they had done in years.

About how the left side of his face had been a yellow-ish purple for weeks following, and the sore spot on his arm from where he caught the pavement as he flew towards it.

About how he had told Sam he just fell on a hunt. “Don't worry kid, you should have seen the vamp when I was done with him.” He swung his fist around in slow motion, pretending to punch an invisible enemy as his little brother giggled in childish bliss.

About how John never looked at him the same. The disgust in his eyes, harsh words on his lips.

About how he vowed to never disappoint his father like that again, and their joint hatred for that part of him. Sometimes it felt like the only thing they could agree on.

About how somewhere, somehow, he had decided Cas was different. That he somehow didn’t count, and that losing him hurt so much, was such an egregious pain, he wanted as much of Cas as he was allowed to have. And how that was something insurmountable stronger than the twisted, sick feeling John had placed in his gut.

He remembered something Cas had told him once: “Hatred isn’t a natural trait, Dean, it’s a learned one. A baby isn’t born with the ability to hate, it’s passed on from one broken soul to another. Love, love however. That’s something different altogether.”

Cas’s hand on his shoulder pulled Dean out of his thoughts. “Hey.” He said softly.

“Hey Cas.”

“I love you.” He got in the passenger's seat, taking his coffee from Dean’s still frozen hand.

“I love you too.” He whispered absentmindedly, staring straight ahead and seeing nothing but thoughts from the past. His mind fighting an internal battle, logic telling him that what he had with Cas wasn’t wrong, and even though everything from fate to God had tried to wedge itself between them, it was still the most right thing he had. And he knew that, but his dad’s drunken, booming voice echoed throughout his head, telling him that he was dirty. Telling him the Winchester men had no place for someone like him.

“You better stop that now, boy. Bad things happen to you when you’re weak.”

At the time he had taken that as a warning, rather than a threat. But now Dean wasn’t so sure.

It’s not even that his Dad was particularly religious. He wasn’t told that it was a sin, or that he was going to Hell. Though it’s not like that particular statement would have been wrong. He thought with a bitter laugh.

While the thoughts in his head were screaming mercilessly, the drive home was in a simple silence. The only noise being Cas’s occasional sip, and the sound of soft fabric rubbing against skin as Cas moved his hand in small, comforting motions against Dean's back.

When they got to the bunker, Cas, who was genuinely impressed that Dean managed to drive them home without crashing into a tree, pulled Dean out of the car and gently shook him out of his self-imposed stupor.

“Your coffee's cold.” Cas said with a laugh.

Dean blinked a couple times, clearing the fog from his mind, before laughing along with him. “And who’s fault is that? You were the one who insisted on traveling across the state to get it.”

“Do you want some of mine?” Cas asked. “There's a little bit left, and I held it next to the heater. It should still be lukewarm.”

“No thanks, Cas. I can go make some in the kitchen.”

“But what if I want you to try it?” Dean glared at him. “Don't make me do Sam’s ‘puppy dog eyes’ again.”

“Okay, okay. You win.” He put his hands up, mimicking a surrender. “I'll try some of your stupid, Christmas cookie, candy-cane flavoured coffee thing or whatever.” They started walking towards the entrance to the bunker.

“Peppermint mocha?”

“That's the one.”

Cas laughed at him.

“Oh just, give it here.” Dean said. He took a long sip from the disposable cup. He could taste a vague hint of whipped cream mixed in with the coffee, its light fluffy texture sticking to the last swallow of smooth liquid in the bottom of the cup. The chocolate and espresso rested on his tongue, and the peppermint was strong and refreshing. He took another sip.

“Does that face mean you like it?”

Dean looked at him guiltily. “No.” He opened the bunker’s door and started walking down the metal stairs.

“Yes you do.”

“No, I don't.”

“You took a second sip.”

Dean reached the bottom of the stairs first, and walked over to the War Room table to set both coffee cups and his keys down.

“So? I was trying to make sure I properly understood the flavour. Since when is that a crime?”

“You wanted to properly understand a flavour you didn't like?” Cas walked up to Dean and pulled the nearest chair out to sit down.

“What are you two arguing about this time?” Eileen asked from the library.

Cas clenched both of his hands into fists, putting the right one on top of the other. He made small, circular, stirring motions with his right hand. “Coffee.” He signed swiftly, movements fluid.

“Ah. That makes sense.” She spoke the words.

“What makes sense?” Sam asked, walking in from one of the hallways, making sure Eileen could see his lips before speaking.

“They're arguing over coffee again.”

Sam glanced at both of them, before his eyes reached the two cups on the War Room table.

“Wait a second… Dean?” He looked at his brother, before turning to face his best friend. “Cas?”

“Yes, Sam?” Cas answered.

“Did you two go to Starbucks?”

“I don't want to talk about it.” Dean grumbled.

“Yes, we did!” Cas sounded way too excited to be referring to coffee. “I got a peppermint mocha, and Dean tried some and liked it.”

“I did not.”

“I don't care what coffee you like, Dean. What I do care about is that you went all the way to Starbucks, and didn't bother to ask if we wanted to come.”

“Not cool Dean.” Eileen walked in, shaking her head and hiding a smile.

“I might have thought about buying you two drinks, but there was no way I was ordering yours with a straight face.” He looked at Sam. “And it's an hour away, they wouldn't have been hot or cold or whatever they're supposed to be by the time we got here.”

“Well then we'll just have to go back, all four of us.” Eileen put simply.

“It's an hour away.”

“We know.” Sam added.

“Let me say that again, in case you weren’t listening. It's an hour away. For coffee. That isn't even that good.”

“I beg to differ, Dean.” Cas said.

“Yeah I'm definitely with Cas on this one.” Eileen agreed while Sam nodded along.

“No. There's no way I'm getting back in Baby to drive all the way to Starbucks again.”

“Fine. We’ll go get our own.”

“With what car?” Dean said, very sure of himself.

Sam snatched Baby’s keys off the war room table, which in hindsight was probably something Dean should have expected.

“Let's hope Sam doesn't have too many shots of espresso.” Eileen said, faking concern. “I would hate for your baby to pay the price.”

“Fine. I'll drive you.” Dean grumbled while Eileen double fist-pumped her win.

Cas looked very pleased with the thought of getting to try more coffee.

---

They left shortly after, the drive over painful for everyone except Dean, who listened to the same four songs on repeat the entire hour.

(It’s their own fault, really.)

---

“Can we please listen to something other than Bob Seger on the trip home?” Sam complained as he slammed shut the door to Baby’s backseat.

“You’re just mad you didn’t get shotgun.” Dean said, closing his own door. “Besides, driver picks the music, everyone else shuts their cakehole.” Sam mouthed the words along with Dean, having heard the speech a million times before.

Eileen and Cas got out, neither one of them had any desire to input on their squabble, and were instead engaged in their own, quieter discussion.

Both brothers continued to argue until they walked into the Starbucks.

“Ah. There's the scent of overpriced coffee I missed.” Eileen joked as she took her first breath inside the building, using her hand to waft the smell towards her.

“What are you getting?” Cas asked Sam.

“I want my usual, and Eileen, what are you having?”

“Hot chocolate with espresso shots please. This place doesn't sell liquor.” She shook her head sadly and Sam laughed. “Good thing I brought my own.” She winked at them, opening her jacket just enough so they could see the inside pocket and showing off her flask.

“Oh, now that would be a Starbucks I would go to.” Dean said.

“You two wait in line.” Sam pointed to Cas and Dean. “We’ll save a table.”

Dean looked like he wanted to protest, but they walked away before he had the chance. Cas leaned over towards him. “Don't worry. I'll order Sam’s.” He very conspicuously winked.

Dean smiled at his attempts of regular human interaction, before over-the-top winking himself.

“Can you order for us? I need to talk to Sam about something.”

“Sure thing…” Cas had to think before finishing his sentence. “...buckaroo.”

Dean outwardly cringed. “Keep trying, you'll get there eventually.” He patted Cas on the back, which was slightly moving in a chuckle.

It was good to see Cas filled with so much simple joy. Face creased from laughter rather than stress, he seemed so much lighter. Happier. It was only a small sliver of what he deserved, but it was something. Maybe he could live with driving an hour to get what he assumed was half-decent coffee.

“What would you like?” Cas asked him, eyes still filled with a sparkle that only comes from gaining something you thought you lost.

“Uh.” He thought about it for a moment, almost considering branching out into the unexplored terrain that was the dark green menu with small, white text, before shuddering at the thought.

“I think I'll take that expensive black coffee I didn't get earlier.”

Dean was not going to turn into one of those people, if he had any say about it.

Cas walked into the line, leaving Dean to scan the room, furiously waving Sam over when his eyes found their booth.

“Sam.” He sounded like he was trying to whisper, but his volume raised far higher than that. The patron closest to Dean gave him a look before turning back to their work.

“Sam, come here, it's urgent.” His brother turned to look at him, rolling his eyes before getting out of the booth.

“What do you want?” He said once he reached Dean.

“Sam. Help. What do I do?”

“About what?”

“About what kind of coffee Cas is having.”

“Oh god, Dean let it go. He's not going to only ever drink black coffee. Contrary to popular belief, former angels do actually have souls.”

Dean ignored the implications that he didn't have a soul, too distracted by Cas. “But look.” He motioned his head towards where Cas was standing, next in line to order. “He’s eyeing the weird fruity drinks.”

“Dean. It's Cas. The man’s favorite food is PB&J. What did you expect him to have, taste?”

“Alright that's rich coming from mister Pinkity Drinkity or whatever the fuck.”

“You walked into a Starbucks and ordered black coffee, I don't think I'm the wrong one here.”

“Wait, wait. Shut up. Quiet.” He hit Sam on the shoulder in a childish attempt at getting him to stop talking so he could listen.

“Ow. That hurt.” Sam muttered, before turning to watch Cas, which Dean was already doing.

“I would like to try a…” Cas methodically scanned the menu again. “A ‘Passion Tango Iced Tea,’ please.” The barista took no mind to the excessive air quotes.

“It's not even coffee.” Dean said to Sam, clearly distraught. He turned to look back at Cas.

“And your name sir?”

“Lizzo.”

Dean threw his arms up into the air. “I can't believe this is the man I love.” His voice cracked like he was holding in tears of anguish from listening to Cas order.

Sam just rolled his eyes at the theatrics. Right, and he’s the dramatic one.

“Aw. You're in love.” Sam held his hands up, forming a heart and mocking his brother.

“Oh shut up. What are you, seven?”

“Is Cas your gay thing?”

“You shut your mo-”

“What are we gossiping about?” Eileen whispered, cutting Dean off and causing them both to jump.

“We're not gossiping.” Sam said indignantly.

“Sam started it.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“This is where I call you two ‘asshats’, right?”

“It's ‘assbutt.’” Cas said, walking up to them and catching the tail end of their conversation. “And that's my line.”

Cas handed them each their drinks, before excitedly trying his own. He put the plastic cup up to his mouth, almost missing the straw. When he swallowed the cranberry-colored liquid, his face relaxed in pleasure.

“I know this one isn't coffee, but it's really good.”

“We didn't get coffee either.” Eileen said. “So don't worry, Dean's the odd man out here.”

Dean glared at her before trying his own coffee, and well, it was coffee. The point of buying expensive caffeine still went straight over his head.

The four of them went over to their thankfully-still-available booth and sat down. Dean and Cas sat on one side, both instinctively choosing the side that faced the door, with Sam and Eileen sliding into the seats directly across from them. They sat there, talking about nothing in particular, and certainly nothing of importance, before falling into the natural art of storytelling.

Aside from killing monsters, that’s what hunters did best. Sitting around and sharing stories. As tiring and dangerous as their lives were, some hunts were worth sharing exaggerated and hyperbolic versions of, especially over drinks.

Sam’s favourite story to tell changed every time, and one would almost be inclined to believe that most of it wasn't real, but the wildest parts also caused the most merriment. (Dean pretended he hadn’t witnessed the whole thing, sparing Sam by not telling the other two how it actually went down.)

Eileen shared of her time in Ireland. “Foreign country, foreign monsters.” She said with a wink, telling of creatures neither Sam nor Dean had even read about.

Dean’s favourite story to tell, aside from the fact that he killed Hitler, was the time he got to solve a mystery with everyone’s favorite talking dog. And yeah, all three of the people that sat at the table had heard both many times before, but that didn't matter, it was still enrapturing to hear them again.

Cas had millenniums to choose from, but always found the most interesting hunts to be the ones with the Winchesters. He also had many hilarious stories about his adventures with Crowley, but he was less fond of those.

“I remember once, Dean went on a hunt with Dad.” Sam started. “Nasty vampire, it got a hit or two on Dean. I think you guys went with another hunter. Young. About your age, actually. Uh…”

He snapped his fingers, trying to recall the name. “Lee. That's it.” Dean looked up from the coffee right as Sam said it. “Do you remember him?”

Something flashed in Dean’s eyes, but his brother didn't seem to notice.

Cas, who was used to admiring every minute detail of Dean's expression and posture, didn't miss the ever so slight, yet sharp, inhale. Or the way he swallowed before speaking, trying to clear the small lump from his throat.

Dean noticed too, internally rolling his eyes at his own reaction.

“Yeah it's been a while, but I remember him.” Dean was blatantly ignoring Cas’s burning stare from beside him, and the fact that he had stabbed Lee through the chest just last year.

Cas made sure no one was watching before gently placing a hand on Dean’s thigh. Knowing it would comfort him from both intuition and experience. Dean stiffened under the touch, but after realizing no one could see where Cas’s hand was, he visibly relaxed.

“What happened to him?” Eileen asked innocently.

“Oh uh, a hunt I think. Most of us go that way, I assume he was no different.” Technically Dean dealt the final blow, but it was the entrancing call of the monster, greed, and the life Lee and Dean had both secretly wanted, that caused his former-friend’s downfall in the end.

“Yeah.” Sam said solemnly, suddenly lost in his own thoughts, most of which were riddled with grief.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, letting the weight of their many losses wash over them like a tidal wave.

One made of espresso and milk rather than the rough waters of the sea.

---

The ride back was more manageable, Dean allowing them one song choice each, complete with a warning to pick wisely.

(They all very cheekily chose the songs they knew would bother Dean the most.)

---

Full on coffee, cookies Dean bought for them at Starbucks, and brimming with contentment, (as well as the fact that they spent half the day in the car), Cas suggested to Dean that they “hit the hay” as they stepped back into the bunker.

They laid there in silence, breathing in scents of comfort, coffee, and each other, until Cas eventually drifted off to sleep.

Dean, however, continued to lay there. Thinking.

He remembered the first solo case John sent him on.

Something curled inside his gut.

They had been two nuns, their fate a product of hate crime. Put to death for simply being themselves.

Dean didn't blame them for coming back as ghosts.

He remembered the words - ones he would soon learn were slurs - that John would spit out like acid.

Or offhandedly toss like they didn't bear enough weight to shatter the window of a person's self-image.

It had taken him almost forty years to realize that very same window inside of him was in sharp, jagged pieces. Cutting anyone and everyone who came near.

It had taken Cas dying to start picking them up again.

He turned to look at the man next to him, relaxed and blissfully sleeping. His chest moved up and down rhythmically, and Dean slowed his breath to match until he fell into a surprisingly peaceful slumber.

---

When Dean woke up, the other side of his bed was cold.

He didn't panic, knowing full well that Cas probably ran to the bathroom, or was pouring another mountain of sugar in his coffee.

Losing Cas again to the Empty had ripped him apart, but months of spending every night with his partner left him with less nightmares and waking in cold sweats then he had since before Hell.

Dean also learned that his own presence was enough to fight off the demons of solid, black goo that plagued Cas’s head at night.

He was finally starting to understand why life seemed to lose all meaning when Cas was gone, and from there he could slowly start to rebuild both of them.

Dean heard soft padding noises as socked feet walked down the hall, and there was a knock on the bedroom door. "S'your room too, Cas. You don't have to knock." He laughed, words slightly slurred from just waking up

Cas walked in, wielding two mugs of coffee and a proud look shining in his eyes. “I made us coffee.” He said triumphantly, handing one of the mugs to Dean.

“I put chocolate and peppermint in your coffee.”

Dean fake-gasped. “You monster. Ruining the integrity of my drink like that.”

“I'm a human, you ass.” Cas responded, a smile tugging at his lips. “Besides, I know you liked mine yesterday.”

“I did not.” He said, discontentedly crossing his arms. “I only drink coffee that's as black as my soul. Darker than the night sky. Hotter than the bunker’s computer when it overheats. As manly as-”

“Oh, just drink your damn coffee.”

“Fine.” He groused. “But I'm not enjoying it.”

Cas raised an eyebrow at him, before setting his mug on the bedside table and sitting down behind Dean. The bed creaked underneath him as he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist. “Is this why you and Sam never use umbrellas?” He joked.

Dean laughed.

Cas rested his head on the crook of Dean’s neck and whispered. “You know you don't have to pretend.”

“Pretend what?” Dean asked softly.

“You know.”

“That I don’t like flavoured coffee?” He said with a snort.

“Sort of.” Cas hugged him tighter. “No one’s going to think any less of you Dean. You’re allowed to like the things you like.”

“I know.” He resigned.

“John isn't here anymore.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I know.” The words barely came out as a whisper, hot tears betraying Dean’s eyes as they silently leaked out and ran down his cheeks.

He tried to wipe the tears away, hearing his Dad’s voice in his head and knowing he was being stupid.

Dean couldn't help but think of himself as a small, living-room window, from an old, dilapidated house. Stained yellow with age. Cracking from wear.

He let the drumming of his Dad’s words in his head be drowned out by Cas’s voice.

He couldn't unwrap the fuzz from around him, so he didn't know what Cas was saying, ears seemingly filled with cotton. It was just the knowledge alone that he was there. That he was holding him and whispering comforting words into his ear. That even as a human he could heal Dean at his lowest points, and still see him as the brightest, strongest, soul.

You don't really know what a picture is going to be until it's done.

Maybe that window is a beautiful stained-glass portrait.

“Uh.” Dean cleared his throat. “What-what do you have?” He indicated Cas’s coffee by angling his head towards where it sat on the nightstand.

“I made iced coffee.”

Dean just looked at him, astounded, eyes widening. “You mean it’s not hot?”

“Yes, that's where the ‘iced’ in ‘iced coffee’ comes from.” He said very seriously.

They both sat in silence for the next hour, peacefully drinking their coffee and enjoying the presence of one another.

---

When they got out of bed and ventured into the rest of the bunker, they found Sam and Eileen in the library.

They were sitting in adjacent chairs, with Eileen laying her head on Sam’s shoulder and reaching for her water bottle on the table. They were reading a book together, but Eileen shook Sam indicating she had seen them walk in.

“Goodmorning.” She greeted cheerfully.

“Mornin’.” Dean pulled up a chair across from them, and watched as Cas did the same.

“What are you two reading?” Cas asked.

“The Men of Letters’s Bestiary.” Sam said.

Dean snorted. “Ah. Doing a little light reading are we?”

“We're thinking about filling in some of the pages.” Eileen added.

“Yeah, for all of the stuff they have here, it's surprisingly empty.” Sam continued flipping through some of the pages, most of which were blank.

“Heh. I should put you in that thing, Cas.”

Cas let out a laugh. “Right. Because I’m a good example of an angel.” The sarcasm was masking something else in his voice.

“If it makes you feel any better, you’ve always been my favourite angel.” Dean only realised how sappy he sounded after it came out of his mouth.

“Yeah, I’ve heard the rest of them are dicks.” Eileen added.

Cas smiled at that, seemingly back to normal.

“Right, well you three can do that, I'm off to the Dean Cave.”

“Or…” Sam started.

“We could go back to Starbucks.” Cas finished, nodding his head enthusiastically.

“Yeah... that's not where I was going with that, but I like where your head’s at, Cas. We should definitely go back.”

“Eileen?” He asked.

“Hell yeah.”

“Dean?”

Dean pressed his mouth into a thin line and glared at him. “Yes, sure, fine. But we're not making this a daily thing.”

“That's fair.” Cas agreed. “It's probably not very healthy.”

He went to grab his wallet and keys before Sam could start his speech on the nutritional value of green things, and Eileen snatched her water bottle off the library table as they all got up to leave.

---

Dean gave up on letting them choose the music after snickering and requesting “Friday” by Rebecca Black for the third time in a row.

(It wasn't even Friday?)

---

Dean stepped out and closed Baby’s door in the parking lot of Starbucks an hour later, kicking the loose pieces of gravel on the asphalt for the third time in two days.

“We might as well just live here.” He said, tone dripping with sarcasm.

“I wouldn't make that offer if I were you, Cas looks like he’d be totally on board.” Sam laughed.

Cas went and stood beside Dean as they started walking towards the building, smiling.

“What?” Dean asked, question genuine and free of all malice.

“Nothing.” Cas answered, smile not faltering.

His eyes revealed nothing but pure devotion for the man he was staring at. A silent promise, one without pressure, that he would be standing there, and Dean could take the leap anytime he wanted.

Dean was slowly inching towards the end of the diving board.

---

“I think I'll just drink my water.”

“Oh that's exciting.” Sam joked. “If I got you a lemon to go with it, would you be able to handle that?”

“Don't talk to me about my drink, when yours is a vivid green puke colour.”

“Hey, at least it actually has a colour. And a flavour at that.”

Dean couldn’t believe those words were coming from the same man who drinks exactly a hundred and one ounces of water a day. (Which, according to Sam, is the recommended amount for males, as stated by the Institute of Medicine.)

(Dean didn’t care.)

“Fine then.” She turned to look at Dean. “Get me the strongest thing on the menu.”

Dean laughed before turning to Cas. “Let's just go get in line before we suffer at the hands of the Leahy like Sam.”

Sam and Eileen went to look for a place where they could all sit again, playfully bickering the entire way.

While he was standing in line with Cas, Dean looked over at his brother, and found him and Eileen sitting at a small table in the corner.

Cas was still helping him learn ASL, so he caught parts of their conversation.

“If Jack is in every drop of rain, do you think he's in your water?” Sam signed, trying to contain his laughter.

Eileen pushed her water away with a look of disgust. “You’re lucky I love you.” She answered back.

“I know I am.”

He watched her silently laugh before turning back to look at Cas.

They really did have it good, didn't they?

“What are you ordering, Dean?”

Dean stood there silently, contemplating. He internally weighed his pros and cons, mind leaving the menu entirely. While there was still a lot of shit he had to work through, (shit he had been actively not working out his entire life), there wasn’t much of a decision to be made.

He would always choose Cas.

“You know what?” He reached out and grasped Cas’s hand firmly. “I was thinking about being less boring. What ingredients do you suggest I try?”

Cas smiled warmly, reaching the crinkled corners of his eyes. “They have a cinnamon flavoured one. That’ll be almost like apple pie.”

“Will it really?” Dean’s tone was dismissive, but there was a smile on his face.

“Yes, Sam told me.“

“Not that I trust Sam’s judgment, but okay, I think I’ll take one of those.”

“I'm going to have a real pumpkin spice latte this time.” Cas seemed very pleased with the aspect of buying something they could make it home, but Dean wasn't going to fault him for it.

The patron in front of them finished ordering, clearing the way for Cas and Dean. The barista from the first time they went caught sight of them and made a face. “Wait a minute. I think I know you two.”

“Yes, we came here yesterday.” Cas helped. “Well, we actually visited twice, but you weren't working the second time.”

“Right... John and John, how could I forget?”

“This time we're ordering for four though.”

“I would like a…” Dean squinted at the menu, looking for the cinnamon flavoured coffee. “‘Cinnamon Dolce Latte.’ And my devilishly handsome friend here will take the pumpkin spice version.”

“And what are the other two drinks and names?”

Dean whispered something in Cas’s ear. “I'll drink the coffee, but I won't budge on this one.”

“That's okay Dean, you’ll get there eventually.” He whispered back.

The barista looked unimpressed with them. Again.

Dean cleared his throat. “Ahem, sorry. The tall one with the stupidly long hair,” he pointed towards Sam, “is getting…” he trailed off before looking to Cas for help.

“I don't know, man. It was something sickly looking. Cold? Green? Possibly tea?”

“And Iced Green Tea Latte?” The barista suggested.

“That's the one. His name is Jimmy.”

“And the lovely lady sitting next to him would like the strongest drink you have. Her name is Robert.”

“Her name is Robert…?” He slowly pointed towards Eileen, sounding unsure of himself.

Or them.

“Yup.” Cas said.

Eileen gave a little wave from across the room.

He gritted his teeth in a very clearly fake smile. “Coming right up.”

They paid for their coffee and picked it up, taking the travel cups across the room and towards Sam and Eileen.

Cas took a sip from his pumpkin spice latte, gleefully smiling. “As much as I like trying different drinks, I think I might start just getting this one. It's my favourite.”

Sam leaned over to Dean, neither one taking their eyes off of Cas. “Should we tell him the drink is seasonal?” He glanced at Sam, before staring back at his partner, whose face was beaming like a literal ray of sunshine.

Dean’s face softened. “Nah. Let’s not ruin his moment.” He took a sip of his cinnamon coffee and damn, it was delicious.

Nothing at all like apple pie, but still delicious.

Cas walked over to him, making eye contact in a silent question. Dean nodded with a small smile, and Cas took his hand.

“I love you.” Cas whispered.

“I love you too.” He whispered back.

They didn’t whisper to hide, and it wasn't because he was ashamed. It was because that exchange was just for them.

Dean leaned in and softly kissed Cas.

Now that was to tell everyone in the shop that his devilishly handsome friend was spoken for.

Slowly, the sun would come out and shine through the stained-glass window, shadow portraying the picture of an angel.

And alright, fine, Dean could admit that he enjoyed the peppermint mocha.

He thought about it for a moment, before giving a light chuckle, realising something.

“What?” Cas asked, turning to look at him with a soft smile resting on his face.

“Nothing.” Dean whispered, squeezing Cas’s hand in his. He took a sip from his coffee, relishing in the warm and cozy flavour enrapturing his tongue.

He was only thinking that maybe, just maybe,

Cas had changed him too.

---

Bonus Epilogue:

Dean held the glass door open for the other three, and they all walked out onto the asphalt, laughing, and making their way towards Baby.

The street lamp overhead flickered, and all four of them froze.

“Did anyone happen to get the salted caramel macchiato?” Dean whispered.

---

-This fic on Ao3 (Kudos and comments would be greatly appreciated.)

-Writing Tag

-Ao3

-Request fics/drabbles/ficlets. (Please)

[winchesterandpie]

Not Now, Not Ever (Geralt x reader)

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x reader

Word Count: 1458

Warnings: a dash of angst, but a happy ending. TW for some abandonment issues, just in case.

A/N: So, my brain has been on an angst track lately, and I’ve been hesitant to post the fics that I’ve written because they all turned into really similar stories, but I figured I’d go ahead with this one. I still haven’t seen the witcher, so I’m really sorry if I’m totally off on Geralt’s characterization! I think I kept the reader gender neutral! Gif is not mine, nor is the Witcher! Hope you enjoy!

“What do you know about feelings, Witcher?”

I regretted the words the moment they fell from my lips, clapping my hand over my mouth as I stared in wide-eyed horror at the silver-haired man in front of me. His lack of reaction only added to my guilt. 

Afraid of causing more damage with grief-cruel words, I fled the bar, fled back to the inn, back to my room. It didn’t matter that I was grieving and lost, that didn’t justify the sharp words I hadn’t meant in the slightest. 

You’ve pushed too far… The dark part of my mind whispered. You’ve pushed too far and now he’ll leave… just like everyone always leaves you… you’ll be alone, just like you deserve to be.

Maybe that’s a good thing… There won’t be anybody I can hurt. 

I cried then, the tears I’d been holding back all day finally freed. And they came violently, running hot rivulets down my cheeks, dropping off my chin. The sobs were no kinder. Those clawed their way up my throat, tearing at my lungs as my shoulders heaved with the force of them. 

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, a knock sounded quietly on the door.

“Go away, Jaskier.” I tried to sound as sullen as possible. Sullen was better than broken. 

Whoever was at the door definitely didn’t go away, only knocked against the wood again, so either it wasn’t Jaskier or he was ignoring my request. Either way, I was going to have to answer it. I forced a mask of composure on and wiped away the tear tracks as best as I could. Hopefully, it would be enough that they wouldn’t ask questions. 

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” I said when the knock sounded again. My legs wobbled a little beneath me as I moved across the room to the door, but they almost buckled completely when I saw that it was Geralt at my door. 

“Geralt!” After my initial shock passed, I fixed my eyes on the floorboards. “You… you’re not... gone?”

“Why would I be gone?” The very notion seemed to confuse him. 

“Because I said that horrible thing in the bar and… and how could you not hate me?” I didn’t dare look up now, continuing in a whisper. “I would hate me if I were you.”

“You’re not me,” was his simple reply. I almost looked at him then, but my composure was cracking, and I didn’t deserve to cry in front of the kind man who I had just stabbed emotionally where I knew it would hurt. 

“O-oh.” Is that the best you can come up with? ‘Oh?’ Pathetic.

As I stood there, shame burning hotly across my cheeks, trying to find a way to excuse myself from the situation, his hand reached out to tentatively grasp my chin. Gently, he lifted my face, and as I met his honey gaze I saw nothing but worry and warmth in his eyes. There was none of the hate and the cold I’d expected. 

The kindness was what broke me. The first tear leaked out on its own, and then it was like the bursting open of floodgates. I collapsed finally under the weight of everything - the grief at the loss of my parents, the shame and anger at myself for what I’d said to Geralt. It proved too much to bear. He caught me as I crumpled, strong arms pulling me into a tight embrace. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I cried into his shirt. “I didn’t mean a word of it, I’m sorry.” I’m not sure how many times I repeated my apology, though I’m sure it was enough that he tired of hearing it.

For a long time, he said nothing, just holding me to his chest as I wept in his arms.  His hand rubbing gentle circles across my back only made me sob more fiercely, and I was glad that he wasn’t speaking. I had enough guilt surging through me without kind words I didn’t deserve mixed into the fray.

It felt like ages passed that way before my tears were finally spent and I was left trembling and exhausted. And still Geralt didn’t let go. Instead, he lifted me in his arms and moved us both to sit on the bed, keeping me tucked against him.

I was afraid to move – afraid that if I did, he would come to his senses and leave. All the same, I knew that eventually the spell of this moment had to break. I sucked in a shaky breath, burning the scent and feel of Geralt into my memory. Steeling myself, I pulled back, rubbing the back of my hand across my face.

“I’ll… You can...” All hint of coherent thought fled, leaving me speechless as I stared determinedly at my knees. So much for keeping any of my dignity intact while giving him a graceful way to leave. My certainty that he would leave settled like a boulder in the pit of my stomach as I choked back a fresh sob. I made a valiant attempt to stand, to move away, to do literally anything that would make me feel less pathetic, but the instant I started to stand, the White Wolf gently pulled me back into his embrace.

“Hush now, it’s alright,” he murmured as he tucked my head under his chin. 

“How can you even stand to look at me?” The question slipped out quietly, so quietly I wasn’t even sure he had heard. I wasn’t sure I wanted him to hear it.

“Pain is different for everyone. For some, like you and me, it means we try to push everyone away with words we don’t mean… We convince ourselves that we deserve to be alone.” He punctuated the words with kisses to the top of my head. “I’ve done it enough to recognize it in you now.”

“But that… that doesn’t… I still shouldn’t have said that. I’m--” I pulled away again, covering my face with my hands.

“No more apologies, dove.”

“Why not? How could I say that to you, no matter what I’m going through?”

Gentle hands circled around my wrists and tugged them away from my face before grasping my chin and starting to lift my gaze carefully to meet his.

“I don’t deserve your kindness, Geralt,” I said thickly, tearing my gaze from his once more. “I don’t deserve you.” All my life, everyone had, without fail, left eventually, and now I couldn’t believe - I didn’t dare hope - that he would stay. I suppose I thought my stubbornness a shield that would protect my heart when he left, even though bitter experience had taught me that nothing would. At best, it had kept others from seeing my pain.

“Oh, my sweetest love.” He all but whispered the words, leaning forward to press his lips to my temple tenderly. “Please don’t say that about yourself. Please don’t believe that.” His nose traced down the side of my face, peppering kisses the whole way.

“I…” I opened and closed my mouth several times, not really sure what to say. Geralt’s warm hand slid to cup my cheek, turning my head so that his forehead could rest against mine.

“I don’t care what you said, Y/N.” His eyes were as warm as molten honey as he held me transfixed by his gaze. “I am not going to leave you. Not now, not ever.” 

A couple of fresh tears leaked out, swept away by the lightest brush of his thumb. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to trust his hold at last and relaxed against him with a shuddering breath. His arm only tightened reassuringly around me.

“You might have to remind me every once in a while,” I let out a watery chuckle, relieved that I wasn’t going to lose someone else.

Geralt didn’t say anything - I figured his quota of words must’ve been filled for the day - he just held me a moment longer before helping me change for bed. The mattress dipped under his weight as he joined me, his arm quickly going around me and tugging me close to him. His free hand found mine, drawing it up to rest over his heart with his fingers intertwined with my own.

“I’ll always be here, dove. For as long as you’ll have me,” he finally said, the words filtering over my ears as I realized how tired I was. 

“Guess you’re stuck with me forever,” I hummed drowsily. For the first time that day, I had hope. Hope that tomorrow would be brighter, that everything would turn out alright in the end, as long as I had Geralt at my side.

“Forever it is, then.”

Thanks for reading!!

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[uniasus]

Ice Above The Clouds

It’s day on of Summer of Whump! Today’s prompt is freezing, filled for you with Percy Jackson, Blackjack, and a Nico so ready to tell Percy “I told you so”.

Read here, or on Ao3.

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

“Are you sure about this?”

Percy shot Nico a bland look, making a show of lifting his backpack higher. “Am I sure about surprising my girlfriend for the holidays? Yes.”

“No, that I get-“

“Giving Will a surprise, eh?”

“Shut up, Percy! No, I just mean. You have your license. Why not just…drive?”

“And miss out on the chance to bond with my best bud Blackjack?” Percy gasped.

Blackjack, in the stall behind them, threw back his head and neighed. I’m offended. Does he doubt me?

“Blackjack also resents the fact that you’re implying he can’t take me there,” Percy shared.

“What, no! Blackjack, you’re a very strong flier. It’s just, have you seen the weather? It’s gonna be a cold flight.”

Percy pointed to his wool hat, double-wrapped scarf, and poofy jacket. “Also got warmers in my shoes and look! Gloves!” He wiggled his fingers. “I’m sweating right now, but I’ll be great in the air.”

Nico still looked unsure.

“It’s always cold when you fly,” Percy continued. “Winter or not. And I did look at the weather – it’ll be sunny. No storms between here and California.”

“Fine,” Nico huffed. “But if you lose a finger to frost bite-“

“You can tell me ‘I told you so’”. Percy unlatched the stall door. “Ready, Blackjack?”

You bet, boss. I’m eager to stretch my wings. The pegasus stretched out his black wings, then shook his body before trotting outside. California, here we come!

Nico watched him mount up. “Tell Annabeth hi. And IM when you get there.”

“Yes, mom.” Percy rolled his eyes and mounted Blackjack. With a whinny, the pegasus took three running steps before lifting into the air. Percy whooped with joy.

###

Percy wasn’t stupid. He had checked the weather and put on all the layers he thought he’d needed. It’s not like he’d be up in the air long – Blackjack was fast and estimated one long day of flying to get to San Francisco. Percy had had long days before. And honestly, after the events of the Giant War and all that quest encompassed, he preferred the cold to heat anyway.

That said, he might have underestimated how cold the trip would be. They’d left camp at dawn to maximize the light, and on-the-ground temperatures had been 35F. Cold, but not too cold. Especially with the right gear. Things would get warmer as they traveled west.

Unfortunately, he had underestimated the drop in temperature at the heights Blackjack flew. The pegasus had gone slightly higher than normal to start, avoiding a slew of small planes flying over New York state, and stayed there. Faster winds up here, boss. We could get there faster, maybe.

“Let’s do it!” Percy could barely hear his own shout over the wind, but Blackjack’s more sensitive hearing had picked it up. Still, at that height, with the winds sending cold air down his throat, Percy couldn’t talk much. Instead, he listened to Blackjack ramble in his head and responded with leg and arms taps. It was a system they’d worked out before.

Percy had brought along sunglasses, the sun might be rising behind them but it was still bright in the sky, but he was wishing he brought other things too. A pair of stretch gloves, to wear under his current ones. Extra toe warmers to put all over his body, like each shoulder. He wished he had a balaclava to protect his face – the wind they flew into was harsh. He kept his eyes closed for stretches at a time to prevent them from drying out.

He wondered how cold it was, ignoring Blackjack’s declaration of a personal quest to sample the grass from every San Francisco park. Below freezing, that’s for sure. What about the windchill? Had they hit negative numbers?

-35F was when they closed schools for fear of kids getting frostbite while waiting for the bus in Minnesota, he heard. Certainly it couldn’t be that cold. He could move all his fingers. He clutched at Blackjack’s mane tighter, trying to focus on his friend’s chatter. He didn’t want to think about the pull of the wind on his coat and backpack, the increasingly numb parts of his skin where the wind found gaps in his clothes, his scarf stiff with his frozen breath and the ice cube on his nose. The wind was loud, his eyelids heavy. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, the sharp peppermint bit of the icy wind with each inhale keeping him awake. But really, it would be so much better if he could just fall asleep. Sleep through the cold and wake up when Blackjack flew at lower heights into the warmer west…

An impact against his sternum jerked him away. He felt groggy, slow, and uncertain of his limbs.

Boss! Boss!  

“ ’ackjack?”

Are you okay? You fell! Why didn’t you tell me you needed a break?

Percy might have made a noise. He wasn’t sure. His lips felt too numb to move right. Gods, he was cold. He wanted to sleep, to bury himself in a blanket and bake in a bed oven. He tried to grab something, but only succeeded at swinging his dead weight of an arm through air. The warmth against his stomach slipped, someone shouted Boss! but he didn’t care who.

The wind in his ears sounded like a lullaby.

###

Percy woke, shivering and hungry and cocooned in a black hole that he slowly identified as a tight pocket created by Blackjack’s body. The pegasus was curled as tight as he could be around Percy, wing extended to surround Percy. As Percy shifted against Blackjack’s side, the pegasus woke up.

Boss?

“Blackjack?” A shudder ran through Percy’s body and he huddled deeper into his coat. “What happened?”

Blackjack lipped at Percy’s knees, head halfway into the wing-cavern. You fell asleep and fell off. Twice. I caught you.

Percy rubbed his chest. No wonder it hurt, if he slammed into Blackjack’s back at the speed of gravity. Probably not worth nibbling on the emergency ambrosia he always carried though. “I’m getting you a whole box of donuts when we get there. Where are we?”

Not sure. But we haven’t hit the Rockies yet.

Iowa or Nebraska then. Unless the cold had gotten to him really early and they landed in rural Illinois.

“Nico’s gonna tell me ‘told you so’.”

Why didn’t you tell me you were cold? I could have flown lower.

“Didn’t think we’d be up that higher. Or that it would be that cold.” Percy stroked the part of Blackjack’s neck he could reach. “Don’t think I was thinking right for awhile. How long have we been here?”

An hour?

“I don’t have the supplies to stay here. I didn’t pack food. We’ll need to get going again.”

Once you stop shivering.

“I can handle a little cold.”

Blackjack shifted his wing so Percy could feel the full force of his stink eye. It wasn’t the best stink eye Percy had ever seen, but with the removal of the wing came full exposure to the outside air. They were in an empty field, didn’t help pinpoint where they were sadly, and the wind that cut across the ground had Percy instinctively pull back into Blackjack’s warmth.

Blackjack replaced his wing.

“It’s winter, I won’t not be cold,” Percy pouted.

Once you stop shivering under my wing, we’ll go.

Percy sighed, but he knew Blackjack was right. He nestled into Blackjack’s side, bringing his knees up close. Part of the reason for the trip was guy time anyway. “Do you think the grass at Land’s End will tasty salty?”

I hope so!

Smiling, Percy dived into a conversation way too deeply about a food he would never eat. He’d get to surprise Annabeth eventually.

[quillandink333]

Like Birds of a Feather

BotW Link X Zelda ~ Modern AU

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: Link, the owner of a small bakery in the middle of the big city, and Zelda, one of his most frequent customers, spend the holidays together.

Masterlist

It was nearly a quarter to eight, when the eastern horizon was just beginning to brighten with the rays of the early winter sun. The Patisserie on Lynel Avenue was decked with bows of holly from one end to the other, and sleigh bells were sounding from the stereo. The holiday season, one of my busiest times of the year, had arrived.

It had yet to start getting really busy—only one or two customers had come and gone so far—but my employees and I were prepared for them to start flooding in as soon as the clock struck nine. I was behind the counter, getting the last of today’s freshly baked goodies behind the glass. I had nothing against Christmas time, of course. In truth, I loved the cheerful atmosphere it brought about, and I had a lot of happy childhood memories of it. But I had to admit that the sudden spike in demand that came with it had me at my wit’s end on occasion.

There was one aspect of my life acting as the oil that kept me running smoothly, however, aside from the rise in income. Since three or four months back, I wasn’t really sure how long ago, but there was one customer who’d been coming in more regularly than any other customer that I could remember. All I knew was that it was some time after we’d started serving coffee and tea and the like. I hadn’t taken much notice of her the first two or three times she’d stopped by. The times after that was when she’d started to grab my attention.

She was rather unassuming in appearance, not boasting too many features that stood out. She seemed like the academic type, judging from her cutely oversized glasses and the way she was always carrying some textbook or another under her arm. The thing that endeared me to her most of all, though, was her insatiable sweet tooth. Every time she dropped in, she’d order something different. And every time, as she took her first bite of whichever one of my treats she’d picked that morning, she’d get this look of complete and utter catharsis, like all of her worries were all at once melting away. To sum up, I was smitten. She seemed to be made up of all the right things one needed to win me over without even having held a full conversation with me.

It wasn’t just these things that drew me to her, however. Every time I looked into those viridian eyes of hers, I was overcome with a striking sense of déjà vu that I couldn’t for the life of me explain. I had no belief in such things whatsoever, nor did I consider myself a spiritual person by any means, but it was truly as though I’d known her in a past life, or something along those lines. I was certain I’d never heard the name ‘Zelda’ in my life before I’d taken her order for the first time. Yet when I looked at her face, I couldn’t help but feel like she was someone important to me. Even though my memory had the tendency to fail me at times, there was no way I could’ve forgotten someone who was seemingly so significant.

It was for these many reasons combined that I found myself so inextricably charmed by her, counting the days between each of her visits to the bakery. They were also the reason my heavy heart became weightless when I saw her smiling face come through the door that morning. She gave me a friendly wave as she walked up to the counter.

“What can I get you today, Ms. Zelda?” I joked. Her little laugh was music to my ears as she looked over the menu and what there was out on display. It turned out she could be rather indecisive about her order at times, which was something I could tell she was conscious of as she grew more and more fidgety the longer she stood there. “No rush.”

She nodded with a small and ashamed smile. “Thank you.” I decided to start counting up yesterday’s earnings while she was deciding. “Uhh... Okay. I think I’m ready.” I closed up the cash register. “I’ll take a tall peppermint mocha...”

“With whipped cream and extra chocolate, I’m assuming?”

“You probably knew what I was going to say before I did, didn’t you?” she huffed in false frustration. “And, well, the orange scones and the eggnog brownies both look delicious, so since I can’t decide, I’ll just have one of each.”

“You got it.”

Once she’d paid and had her order in her hands, I expected her to say a quick, “Thank you!” and walk away with it. Instead, when I handed over her drink, she stuck by the counter, looking as though she had something else on her mind. It wouldn’t be long before I’d find out what that was.

“So, Link...” I turned back around to face her. She must’ve read my name tag at some point. She was twirling a lock of golden hair between two dainty digits, glancing around the soon-to-be bustling café area. “Have you got any plans for Christmas? Anyone you’ll be spending it with?”

“Not really,” I shrugged. “I haven’t got family.”

The corners of her lips fell. “Oh. Are they out of town or something?”

I shook my head. “They all got into a bad accident about seven years ago. Both my parents and my sister.”

“Oh...” A look of deep, genuine sympathy found its way onto her face. “I’m sorry.” A short moment of silence passed between us. Then she broke it, saying, “Me neither, actually.” I looked up from the cash register. “My mother passed away when I was really young and then I lost my father as a teenager.” It was difficult to process what I was hearing. I’d never imagined she’d have that kind of story just based on our handful of previous interactions.

“Hey, boss, want me to take over?” offered one of my few employees, pointing at the machine from beside me.

“Oh sure. Thanks.” He nodded, letting me step aside and out from behind the counter. When I met eyes with Zelda again, however, my mind drew a blank. “I’m sorry,” I laughed. “What were we just talking about?”

“It’s okay!” she reassured. “I was just going to say again, I’m so sorry about your family. That’s awful.”

I wasn’t really sure what the appropriate response would’ve been, so I simply said, “I’m sorry about yours.”

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” It quite frankly broke my heart just seeing her with anything but a smile on her face. “So what are you going to do for Christmas? Are you just staying home by yourself or...?”

“Pretty much.”

“Yeah, same here.” The silence returned for a short while as she took a cautious sip of her coffee until she quietly said, “Would...you maybe want to hang out? With me? On Christmas...?”

Her suggestion sent my thoughts into overdrive. The image of getting all cozy and warm by the fire with her in my arms and maybe even sharing a kiss or two under the mistletoe gave me a sudden rush of glee from head to toe. But then, maybe she didn’t have that exact scenario in mind. Maybe that was too much to ask.

“You’re not going to be working or anything, are you?” she asked, making me realize I was taking too long.

“Oh, no!” I cleared my throat in embarrassment. “That would be lovely. Were you thinking, like, one of us would go over to the other’s place for dinner or...would that be too soon...?”

Her face flushed as she stuttered out her answer. “That’s—I mean, I-I’d be happy to do that as long as it’s okay with you.” Then her shoulders shook with laughter as she added, “Let’s not go to mine, though. I have a flatmate who’s... Well, she’s a bit eccentric, as it were.”

“Mine it is, then,” I chuckled. “We could go out and do something else beforehand too, if you’d like.”

“That sounds perfect! Uh, where should we meet?” she pondered. “Oh! How about the park on Nayru Street? At...three o’clock?”

“I’d like that.”

When Christmas day arrived, it brought with it devastatingly low temperatures and a snowstorm overnight. So when I spotted her upon arriving at the park, I hadn’t expected her to come wearing nothing but a mini skirt, some sheer leggings, and a thin sweater with what looked like a button-up shirt underneath. Honestly I hadn’t really been expecting her to come at all. Nevertheless, there she was, waving at me from the opposite corner of the road.

“Hey, I’m so glad you came!” she chirped once I’d gotten within hearing range. Her pale pink, knitted hat with the pompom on the end, along with the pleats of her skirt, made her look like a cupcake. A shivering, frostbitten cupcake.

“Aren’t you cold?” I inquired.

“What? No! Not at all,” she scoffed, teeth chattering.

I stepped toward her and held out my hand without thinking, then stuffed it back in my pocket. What could I do? There was no chance she’d last more than an hour out in the icy December climate wearing that. I wanted to be a gentleman, but it wasn’t like I could give her my trousers to keep her warm.

“Link, don’t worry about it,” she insisted. “I’ll be f-fine.”

This didn’t do much to ease my concern for her, but I shrugged it off, trying my best not to worry.

A few hours went by remarkably quickly. After meeting up at three, we’d spent a little while in the park, sharing stories and learning more about each other’s lives. I told her about my experience with starting my own business, and she told me of her aspirations to become a groundbreaking tech engineer. Then the sun began its decent. While we went to grab hot drinks (which seemed to help warm her up temporarily), she had the idea of touring some high-end neighbourhoods to see all the lights and decorations. But by then, it had started snowing again, and she was shaking so much, it looked like her legs could’ve given out at any moment.

My heart lurched when I saw her stumble on the way up a particularly steep incline. I rushed to her side, even though she’d mostly managed to catch herself on her own. She was starting to look pale. “Okay, yeah, you’re definitely not fine. Let’s get you inside.”

“Yeah...” She nodded shakily, steadying herself on my arm. “Okay.”

The trip back to my flat lasted around half an hour, which was still longer than either of us would’ve preferred. The busses weren’t running due to the ice on the roads, so we had to go by train. At least now she was sheltered from the raging blizzard outside. The poor thing was shivering the whole way, albeit slightly less. I was doing all I could to protect her from the cold by rubbing up and down her arms, which she didn’t seem to mind, even leaning back into me a couple of times.

“I’m so sorry about tonight,” she frowned as she followed me through the front door once we’d arrived. “I honestly didn’t think it would be this cold, and I just wanted us to have a fun night out together. I didn’t mean to—“

“It’s okay, Zelda,” I hushed, turning on the fireplace and sitting her down in front of it. “We can still have fun here, can’t we? We can do whatever you want once we’ve eaten, your choice.”

Her frown turned into a shy smile. “Thank you,” she sniffled.

I nodded, stripping off my snow-covered jacket and hanging it up. “Would you like something a bit more comfortable to wear maybe...?”

“No, that’s alright,” she dismissed, noticing the—one might say ‘minimalist’—tree I’d set up on the mantel next to the television. “Thanks, though. I just need a minute here to...regain my body heat, I think.”

“Well, if you need anything, just ask.”

And with that, I made my way to the kitchen to get started making dinner. Once she’d recovered for the most part and some colour had returned to her cheeks, she took it upon herself to help me with cooking. It wasn’t a very traditional Christmas dinner, but she enjoyed it, as did I. The highlight, however, was yet to come. After filling our stomachs and having a bit of light banter, we sat down on the sofa to watch some shabby Christmas films together by the fireplace.

“Hey, so...” She turned her attention to me when I paused the movie abruptly. “I heard somewhere that you like cake.”

She straightened up, eyes dilating like a cat who’d been offered a saucer of cream. “There’s cake?”

“There is indeed,” I laughed, rising to my feet. “Would you care for some?”

“Oh, would I ever.” She sprung up and followed me back to the kitchen, where I’d already put my seasonal masterpiece out on display. She gasped. My concoction consisted of two layers of black forest cake frosted with and separated by white buttercream. To top it off, I’d lined the circumference with black cherries and, as the centrepiece, created a miniature forest scene using artificial evergreen trees and some powdered sugar. “Link,” she gaped as I observed her awestruck reaction with pride. “I... You shouldn’t have.”

“But I did.” I was beaming from ear to ear as she took her eyes off the tantalizing treat to look back at me. Picking up the knife and positioning it at the edge of the cake, I tried to ask, “How much do you have room for?”

But then she cut me off with an alarmed, “Wait!”

I halted, leaving only a millimetre or two between the cake and the edge of the knife.

“I mean...” she stuttered. “Sorry. It just looks too perfect. You know?”

Eventually she came to terms with the fact that she quite literally couldn’t have her cake and eat it too. So once I’d served us both a slice, she pranced back to the living room with me just a few paces behind. As “A Charlie Brown Christmas” resumed on the screen, I watched her take her first bite out of the corner of my eye. “Wow,” she garbled around a mouthful of rich, chocolaty goodness before swallowing. “Link, you’ve truly outdone yourself.”

I blushed, the sounds from the TV fading into white noise in the background. “You can have my cherries if you want.”

A gleaming grin lit up her face. “Oh my god, really?” She scooted closer to me so that I’d be able to roll them off of my plate and onto hers with my fork. Any further and her thigh would’ve ended up right up against my own.

Once she’d cleaned off her plate, she set it down on the coffee table in front of us and relaxed into the back of the sofa, which nearly swallowed her up with how deep it was.

“Damn,” she smiled to herself, making me turn my head. “Now I feel bad for not getting you a gift or anything.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I put my plate down next to hers. “Just spending the day with you has been wonderful.” She looked at me with not a trace of dismay in her gaze, eyes warm and filled with nothing but contentment. “Honestly, I can’t think of anything that would’ve made me happier. Thank you for today.”

Her gaze landed in her lap, a dusting of pink settling on her cheeks. “I should be thanking you.”

I hadn’t noticed, but as time had passed from that point, she’d been gradually reclining in my direction. The moment our mutual acts of platonism fell apart was the moment her head made contact with my shoulder. I couldn’t help but give in and let my arm drape itself around her. An upward curve settled into the corners of her lips briefly before they drooped sleepily back down. I took a glance at the clock hanging by the kitchen—it was half ten already.

Zelda’s eyes were all but closed, lips parted just so, and some of her hair had scattered across her face. I tucked it back behind her ear, trailing my fingertips along her downy hairline in the process. They wanted to keep going down her face, once they’d reached her ear, to discover whether those lips were as soft and warm as they appeared. “Zelda?” I murmured her name, not wishing to disturb her in her peaceful disposition. She gave me a sort of hum in delirious acknowledgement. “C...can I...?”

She hummed again in almost the same way as before, perhaps not having realized what I was about to say. Then again, her cheeks did seem a slight bit rosier now. I leaned in, thumb coming to rest on her jawline. She tilted her head up, eyes fluttering the rest of the way closed.

But I still hesitated. About to play out before my very eyes was the scene that had been running in the back of my mind ever since the first time I laid eyes on her. Ever since the first time I’d witnessed her indulging in one of my creations. Her lips and tongue would taste of sugar and strawberries if all my fantasies were to realize themselves. But what if they didn’t? Or even, what if they did? What would we be after today? This would change everything between me and her, and there would be no turning back.

Lazy fingers curled around the back of my neck, and before I could give it another thought, her lips and mine had met.

She did indeed taste sugary and sweet, as one would expect from someone whose last thing they’d eaten had been a slice of cake. Yet that wasn’t what stood out to me, made me melt into a useless puddle on the floor. It was the way she leaned her weight into me, trusting me to catch her with no questions asked. The way she made me drape my arms around her waist, wanting to feel as close to her as my corporeal being would allow. She was so warm and so soft. It had been an age since I’d known the feeling of home. Was this it?

I’d soon have my answer, as the moment her lips began to disappear from mine, I felt a sudden surge of homesickness swelling up in my chest. My heart pleaded for her not to leave, and she must’ve heard it, because no sooner than when I opened my eyes did she press her lips to my own again.

It would be a while until I’d be able to tear myself away from her long enough to ask her the question I had burning on my tongue. “What would you think,” I muttered, “about...spending the night here?”

“That...” Her eyes squinted. “That doesn’t—” She was interrupted by a yawn, which she covered with one hand. My breath went still. “...sound so bad actually.” I exhaled in relief, seeing her droopy eyes filling up with warmth. “Is it too late to accept your offer from earlier? About comfier clothes?”

“Not at all.”

[sxvxrxssnape]

Snolidays/Snapemas: Day 2

Chestnuts & Christmas Cards // pre-PS/the years between. Minerva & Severus friendship aka Minerva McGonagall’s personal mission to make Sev love Christmas part 2. 

Yesterday’s snowfall had turned to ice overnight. It crunched underneath their boots, leaving behind a trail of sunken footfalls as they crossed the stone bridge and moved towards the tall, wrought iron gates that secured the ancient school. 

The wind wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but Severus still took a moment to adjust his hat, pulling it down over his ears to keep his hair from flitting about in his face. Beside him, Minerva had her hands tucked into the pockets of her woolen cloak and together they made their way towards the waiting carriage that would take them into Hogsmeade. 

Hogsmeade was a special little town that sat nestled between crashing ocean waves and giant boulders, an endless expanse of pine trees, and the outline of an antiquated castle perched high above the cliff sides. It was home to a quaint collection of little shops and taverns, and judging by its newly renovated state, a smattering of wizards who seemed to love Christmas just as much as the deputy headmistress standing beside him. 

“December literally just started.” Severus groaned, as he stepped out of the carriage and looked around the main street that stretched out before them. 

Bundles of garland and red ribbon decorated every light post and rows of twinkling lights and colorful baubles hung from all the nearby trees. Even the air smelled festive and Severus’ lips thinned as he made out the scent of warm cinnamon and ginger - out of contempt or poorly hidden delight, he would never confirm.

Minerva chuckled softly beside him as he eyed the snow-covered rooftops with their dripping icicles that couldn’t be intentional - it was the weather’s doing, for Merlin’s sake - but still seemed intentional against the decorated storefronts that it made him think of gingerbread.

“You don’t have to look so put out,” Minerva teased, leading the way further into what he was now seriously debating was even Hogsmeade at all, “If you want, we can start decorating the castle as soon as we return. I’m sure Albus won’t mind.” 

Severus glared at her in return,

“I’ve changed my mind,” he decided, as they passed the stone statue of the town’s founder confirming this to, in fact, be Hogsmeade and not an asinine Christmas village Minerva had secretly tricked him into going to, “I can just owl-order the things I need, from the safety of the castle.”

Regardless, he continued towards the waiting apothecary because he could not - would not - owl order potion ingredients. He couldn’t trust the shopkeeper (or the blasted school owls for that matter) to fully understand why it was so important for his bicorn horns to be the exact shade of pale yellow he needed or the fragility of bursting mushrooms. 

And contrary to his current attitude, Severus Snape didn’t hate Christmas. He could appreciate a finely decorated tree and he found himself looking forward, and dare he say, a little excited about the upcoming staff holiday party. He wasn’t the bitter, old man inside that Minerva seemed to think he was, all bah-humbug and scowls when it came to anything remotely festive, he just didn’t understand the point of overdoing it and turning the whole town into a fragrant - wonderful smelling - gingerbread village two days into December. 

For Merlin’s sake, he was only twenty-five. That wasn’t enough time for him to turn resentful of the holidays, even if almost every single year had been...less than stellar, by all accounts. It wasn’t like he had never tried to have a good Christmas either, but after so many spectacularly failed attempts, he had decided he was better off not celebrating it at all. 

In fact, he had been quite content the last four Christmases working at Hogwarts and only acknowledging the aforementioned holiday party and maybe the changes to the menu, because yeah, he might feel a little indifferent towards the holiday but he also wasn’t a heathen who didn’t gladly indulge in rum-spiked eggnog and fresh baked gingersnaps. 

Severus shook his head, trying to dislodge the sudden influx of thoughts. His inner dialogue was beginning to sound a little bitter, even to himself.

“Coffee?” he asked loudly, speaking over the first syllable of whatever Minerva had been about to say, no doubt inferring something too close to accurate about his innermost thoughts from the look on her face, and stopping in front of the smiling wizard standing behind a market stall. 

“Afternoon,” the portly man tipped his head at the two, gesturing towards a charmed menu that was currently rewriting itself with the daily special. “What can I get you two?”

They ordered the special at Minerva’s insistence, and handed over a pair of sickles each before continuing on their quest. The coffee was strong and hot, tasting of dark chocolate and peppermint and Severus grimaced at the realization that she had inadvertently (advertently?) found another thing for him to like about Christmas. 

Minerva one, Severus zero. 

He shook his head again; he wasn’t trying to hate Christmas. He didn’t hate Christmas! He was just stubborn to a fault and after Min’s declaration that she would make this year the best yet, a small part of his mind was determined to rebel against it. 

Their time inside the apothecary was quick. The shopkeeper was used to Severus’ particularities and kept to herself as he sifted through bins of precariously piled ingredients and filled his basket with perfectly selected bicorn, jobberknoll feathers, and no less than thirteen jars of things he definitely hadn’t come here for. 

After he paid - and thank Merlin he had secured a position that provided room and board - Minerva led them into the paper and quill shop next door. She had a Hogwarts-sized order of parchment and spare quills to put in, so Severus went to browse the new display that had been erected in front of the store window. Red fabric was spread over the round table laden with gaudy, ribbon-trimmed quills and pots of glitter-infused calligraphy ink. He reached for one of the plastic-wrapped bundles stacked in the center, adorned with all sorts of festive symbolism and sighed as he realized what they were. 

“You should purchase some,” Minerva suggested, coming up behind him and making him jump. He hated when people snuck up behind him. It had once meant certain death and while the threat of an evil, megalomaniacal wizard behind his shoulder was no longer tangible, the sharp tendrils of fear that spiked into his chest had yet to go away. 

He forced himself to relax. 

“Christmas is all about spreading cheer, you know.” Minerva continued, thankfully ignoring the way his breath had seized, but clearly not unaware of it given the way she took a step back and appraised him carefully. “By making others happy, you make yourself happy. Perhaps you’ll benefit from it.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Are you implying that all my traumatic childhood Christmases can be attributed to the fact that I’ve never sent out Christmas cards?” he asked dryly. 

“Yes.” Minerva deadpanned. 

He blinked, taken aback by her frankness before he noticed the glint in her eye that indicated she was mostly joking. He looked down at the packages of cards and selected one with a more wintery scene - painted snowflakes and white-dusted evergreens over the eclectic mix of colorful baubles - with a look of feigned resignation, “I guess I’m sending Christmas cards this year.”

“Excellent.” 

They left the stationary store after that and headed for the Three Broomsticks. It was a new part of their routine that Severus had found himself looking forward to - Hogsmeade trips used to be rather anxiety-inducing, lonely and quite dull affairs without anyone to quip with, but now they promised good company and a quiet meal away from the bustle of students. Part of it was due to the genuine friendship they were forming, but another part of it was self-serving - for both of them. 

They were both aware of it, they just elected not to mention their unique combination of post-war trauma and newly created grief that kept them confined to the safety of the castle and feeling more than a little discombobulated in the small town just outside of it. 

The Three Broomsticks was nestled in the midpoint of Hogsmeade, a cozy-looking tavern made from polished wood and frosted windows, that boasted a warm bed and a strong drink to any desiring witch or wizard. The inside was just as quaint and rustic looking, but now it displayed a cascade of twinkling lights and a modestly decorated tree next to the wiped down bar. 

“Afternoon, Rosmerta!” Minerva called out to the barmaid and landlady who was topping off a stein of butterbeer with a healthy splash of firewhiskey for a waiting gentleman. They took their seats at a small table in the corner that Severus had long since dubbed their table and shrugged out of their cloaks.

“Afternoon, you two.” Madam Rosmerta greeted them as she approached them. Her strawberry blonde curls were gathered at the top of her head in a loose bun pinned in place by her wand and Severus internalized a scowl at that. He had seen a few witches - and wizards - use their wand for a quick updo, but he had yet to figure out how it was done and he absolutely refused to ask for help. She was carrying two ceramic mugs filled to the brim with a deep burgundy drink.

“Mulled wine,” she announced, setting them down and Severus noted the orange slice and cinnamon stick steeping in the red wine. “Made it last night.” 

“I really do believe the drinks are the best part of the holiday season.” Severus mumbled, picking up the warm cup and taking a long sip. 

“Come now, they can’t be the best part.” Rosmerta scolded, summoning a menu from the bar and setting it down on the table. “There’s so much more to Christmas than just good wine!”

“Nothing worthwhile.” Severus said simply, picking up the menu and skimming it. He always ordered the same thing, found comfort in stability, but he also couldn’t resist holiday menus when the time arrived. 

Minerva looked apologetic as she ushered the barmaid away after a quick scan of the menu and turned to glare at the now scowling potions professor. “Severus!”

“So, do you have a list you’re working from?” Severus asked mildly, picking up his wine and focusing intently on the red-tinted pulp of the orange floating in his drink. “Or are you simply making things up on the spot?”

“Pardon?”

“Your mission to make this year the best Christmas ever.” he specified. “Are you working from a list? Is there a schedule we’re following and can I be made privy to it, so I can plan my potion brewing around it?” He picked up the package of cards. “Or are you just forcing me to take part in things as they come up?”

Minerva eyed him carefully, picking up her own cup. “A little bit of both.”

“Do I get to hear what you do have planned?”

“Some of the classic activities I suppose - decorating the tree, going to look at the lights, maybe visiting Christmastown, baking cookies, go caroling -”

“Caroling?!”

“- maybe decorate a gingerbread house.”

Madam Rosmerta returned before Severus could say anything else, guiding bowls of butternut squash soup and a plate of cheese toasties onto the table with her wand. “There you go, dears.” she smiled, setting down a smaller plate piled with iced gingersnaps. “These are on the house - first bake of the holiday season. Should help get those spirits up.” She sent Severus a pointed look that he deftly ignored and Minerva glared at him again.

“If you’re going to glower at me every time we go out this month, I might just stop going out with you.” he bristled, picking up a toastie and dipping the corner into his soup. 

“Maybe you should stop being so bitter then.” Minerva returned.

“What, because it’s Christmas?” he asked, pausing to take a bite. “Oh, such a joyous time of year! Look how absolutely delighted I am to share a room with wine-drunk wizards,” he gestured a hand towards the bar, where a pair of cherry-faced dwellers were singing the words to A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love, “and a goddamn tree!”

“Severus!” Minerva admonished again and this time, Severus hunched his shoulders at the tone. He had gone too far, he could tell from the way her face had smoothed out entirely, giving her a look of cold indifference. 

“I’m sorry.” he muttered, swirling his spoon through his soup. 

Minerva didn’t say anything and they ate their food in awkward silence. At one point, a pitcher floated over to their table and refilled their mugs before making its way back to the bar. When they were done, Severus eyed the gingersnaps and wondered if it would be considered poor etiquette to reach over and help himself. The mood at the table didn’t feel particularly deserving of cookies. 

Then again, he had once attended dinners at the Malfoy’s with The Dark Lord sitting at the forefront and the ambience of those days didn’t stop anyone from helping themselves to an extra piece of focaccia bread. He winced; it felt wrong to compare past - genuinely traumatic - dinner events to the silence before him. Minerva wasn’t an enemy, he was simply a bastard. 

“I don’t hate Christmas,” he finally broke the silence. “I just find myself wondering over the point when every Christmas I’ve tried to celebrate properly has ended in disaster. I’m perfectly content with not bothering over it anymore. The lights are pretty and the food is good, and I look forward to watching Rolanda drink everyone under the table later this month, but I’ve stopped putting merit in the holidays. It’s less disappointing that way.”

Minerva pushed the plate of cookies towards him, like some sort of reward for  opening up. Which, he supposed, it sort of was. She picked one up and took a bite and only then did he grab one too.

“I don’t get why you’re so determined to fix that.” he added, shrugging. 

He bit into the cookie, savouring the meld of flavors - ginger, molasses, warm vanilla. He couldn’t imagine a more perfect gingersnap and he found himself raising the cookie in a gesture of appreciation as he made eye contact with Rosmerta. 

“Elphinstone loved Christmas.” she said simply, taking another bite of her cookie and shrugging as if she hadn’t just dropped a bombshell of emotional manipulation by invoking the name of her dead husband over a plate of cookies on what had started as a pleasant Monday afternoon of running errands after class. 

“I-” Severus began, but then stopped. 

“We weren’t married for long, I know, but I knew him for 23 years.” she continued, as if he hadn’t spoken. Her eyes seemed a little faraway now. “We would always make the most of his vacation days - see the lights, visit the Christmas market, decorate the tree, roast chestnuts and drink hot cocoa. He loved carolling, had a good voice for it.” 

Severus looked down at his cookie, scraping at the white icing with his thumbnail and effectively crumbling away the hand piped snowflake. 

“I’m not making you celebrate Christmas with me because I’m lonely.” she clarified, eyeing him sternly. “If you don’t want to do anything else on this list, I won’t make you. I just don’t want you going through life thinking it’s all bad and that good things can’t happen to you.”

“I don’t -” 

“Yes, you do.” Minerva scolded. “Don’t think I don’t see you wallowing every time you catch sight of yet another reminder that this is supposed to be the happiest time of the year. You don’t have to be the cheeriest person to ever walk the earth, for Merlin’s sake, Severus, but you’re letting bitterness take a hold of you and I won’t stand for it.” 

Severus tried to scowl back, but Minerva could see right through him. 

“Do you know why I accompany you to Hogsmeade?” she asked and Severus grimaced. They weren’t supposed to talk about it; this was one of those stones better left unturned things. 

“Don’t say it please.” he whispered, feeling dread curling in his stomach. He hated to think himself as weak and his inability to enter Hogsmeade alone - any bustling wizard town, at that - was only utter proof that he was. 

“Your paranoia is valid.” Minerva said quietly, saying as little as possible and yet too much at the same time. “Don’t be ashamed of having trauma, but don’t let it turn you into a bitter, shriveled up, old bastard either.”

“Are we still talking about Christmas?” he asked ruefully. 

“You know we aren’t.”

Their empty plates and half-filled mugs suddenly got up and floated away only to return as a pair of traveling paper cups topped with more wine and a splash of something stronger. They nodded their thanks at Rosmerta and shrugged back into their cloaks. They kept a tab at the Three Broomsticks, so paying wasn’t a concern as they exited the building and headed towards the castle in silent agreement to skip the carriage ride. 

“So, roasted chestnuts?” Severus brought up, as they crunched over the dirty ice that coated the path back home. “Like, in the song? That’s a thing?” 

Minerva nodded. 

“Can we do that, then?” he asked casually, trying to make amends. “I noticed the apothecary had a basket full of them. Perhaps we could return and pick some up.”

“Already taken care of.” Minerva replied, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small burlap sack bursting with its lumpy contents. “You were too busy holding jars of lacewing flies to the light you never even noticed.”

“Roasted chestnuts then.” Severus nodded, ignoring the jab towards his particularness. “And uh, thank you for accompanying me to Hogsmeade,” he added, trying to sound indifferent to it, like it wasn’t such a difficult thing to admit aloud. “I know it's hard for you too.” 

The witch smiled softly, as if being reminded of her - what, only three months now? - deceased husband and her old life living in the small town was a pleasant memory. And perhaps for her, it was. Perhaps he was letting grief turn him bitter. What did the deaths of his only friends and both his parents have to do with Christmas? Years had passed since both and yet the newly-created widow walking besides him was coping far better than he could ever hope to. 

“I think we should talk about Christmas present shopping.” 

“I was just going to -”

“And don’t say you were going to owl-order them.” Minerva interrupted, narrowing her eyes at him. “There’s nothing personal about circling a few things in a catalogue.”

“What do you propose then?”

“We’ll go gift shopping together. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Minerva confirmed, taking a sip of her drink. “It’s too early in the month for most people, so Diagon Alley won’t be crowded at all, let alone on a Tuesday. Shouldn’t make you too uncomfortable, yes?”

Severus offered a smile at the unexpected accommodation and nodded. He cradled his paper cup of mulled wine close to his chest, feeling a warmth that came from more than just the hot drink. 

--

a/n: oops maybe got carried away with this one? it would mean the world to me if you told me what you think of this bc im v proud of it. 

[skullrock]

the first christmas

12 days of Christmas fics, day 7 - the first christmas

pairing: Joyce x Hopper

summary: It’s Eleven’s first Christmas, and Joyce and Hopper make it everything she ever wanted it to be, while kindling their own romance.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: none!

a/n: I think I am rly bad at writing jopper but I did my best <3 hope u enjoy! 

“Do you know what Christmas is?”

El shakes her head timidly, and Hopper lets out a deep sigh. Of course they never let her celebrate Christmas.

“What… is… Christmas?”

Hopper doesn’t know what to say. He tries to think back to what he had told Sarah when she was growing up, but nothing really comes to mind. He’s pretty sure Sarah just understood it  since she’d grown up with it. “Uh… it’s a celebration that we have every December to celebrate the birth….” Does El really need to know who Jesus Christ is? Does Hopper even know? “Of some guy that a lot of people… care about.”

“Like a birthday?”

“Yeah, except a lot of people celebrate.”

El nods. “What do we do?”

Hopper thinks the best way to show her is to have her watch some Christmas movies, hence why they were set up by the TV. “Here, you’ll get the hang of it.”

He almost showed her It’s a Wonderful Life, but Joyce vehemently protested, insisting on showing El Miracle on 34th Street first. Joyce said it was the best way to show El the meaning of Christmas, even if Hopper didn’t necessarily want El to believe in Santa. Hop trusted Joyce with his life, so he agreed, but he’s pretty sure it was the wrong call.

“Who is that?”

“That’s Santa.”

A long pause. “What does he do?”

Shit. “He’s the… person- he’s the image of Christmas. He brings gifts and makes sure everyone is being nice to each other.” He shakes his head at himself, but El seems to get it. She gets the present thing and the spirit of Christmas pretty well, but the legal proceedings weren’t helpful.

“Why don’t they think he’s real?” she asks quietly.

“Well, the guy is real, but people don’t think Santa is.”

“Is he?”

Jesus Christ. “Santa is a frame of mind. He might not be a real… person, but the message is there.”

El looks at him with furrowed brows, so he tries to elaborate.

“Santa… is Santa. He’s…. He brings people joy. So… if he’s not real, joy is still a thing.”

“Joyce?”

“No, not Joyce,” he laughs. “Joy. Happiness.”

“Oh.” She looks back to the TV. “Why isn’t it colored?”

“Old movies were in black and white.”

“Why?”

Sometimes Hopper hated being a dad, but only because he could not explain things very well. Not as well as Joyce could, anyway. He wishes she were here right now - not just to answer El’s questions, but because, quite frankly, he missed her. “They just were. I don’t know.”

“Oh. Okay.”

The movie finishes with El pretty much bouncing on the couch. She doesn’t verbally state her excitement, but it’s evident on her face.

“Fun, right? Makes you feel good?”

El nods. “Do we celebrate?”

“We will, if you want to.”

To be honest, Hop didn’t really know where he was going with this, hence why he didn’t think of a better explanation for Santa. He just remembers how much Sarah loved it, and he wants to make El that happy. He enlisted Joyce’s help with Christmas stuff, like finding presents and wrapping. Joyce loved El as much as Will and Jonathan, so she agreed easily.

El nods. “Yes.”

“Okay, well, get excited,” Hop says, pushing out of his chair. “It’s in twenty five days.”

El does the math in her head - 25 days was nothing after waiting forever for Mike. “Really?”

“Really,” Hop says. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

===

The Byers went all out for El’s first Christmas.

Joyce, Will, and Jonathan came to help set up the house on the fifth. Jonathan had made snowflake cutouts, which Will had covered, to hang around the house. Joyce brought Christmas books for El to read, peppermint cookies, and hot chocolate. They’d brought some ornaments that wouldn’t fit on their tree, as well as lights, for the tiny pine that Hop had cut down in the woods. El really liked the smell of pine, fresh and uplifting. Her smile didn’t falter for a second as everyone moved around the small cabin, hanging things and cleaning. Jonathan gave El an old Santa hat, but she put it on Hopper and pouted until he reluctantly wore it.

“Looks good on you,” Joyce said in passing, which made Hop stop trying to prop up the tree.

“You mean that?”

Joyce didn’t answer, but Hopper’s smile was as big as El’s.

Probably the first thing El picked up on when she moved in with Hopper was that he loved Joyce. She knew it way before him, and wanted them to be together more than he did. El liked Joyce and always felt close to her, but she wanted Hopper to be happy, too. Once she learned about mistletoe from a Christmas movie Hopper showed her, there was no stopping her. She was going to get them to kiss, just like the couples in the movies.

Will had found an old bundle up in their attic and brought it for El, confused with why she wanted it. He figured she just wanted to touch it, or wanted the whole experience, or something. El really just wanted to make it float above the two at the perfect time. Which was, admittedly, not tonight - but soon.

===

“Snow!”

Hopper nodded at the stove. “Yep, just in time for your first Christmas.”

El made Hopper blast Christmas records the entire morning of Christmas Eve, and she made him wear the Santa hat. Hopper would have been irritated if it was anyone else, but El’s goofy smile convinced him to keep the hat on. He made her Christmas themed Eggos, complete with crushed candy canes and white chocolate, for breakfast. As they sat to eat, Hopper noticed a mischievous smile on El’s face.

“What?” he asked, mouth full.

El looked up at him and smiled more, but didn’t say anything.

“Alright,” he said, staring at her carefully. “Better behave. Joyce and the boys are coming soon.”

El’s smile grew, and Hopper didn’t understand why. But he felt close to smiling, too.

===

“Jesus, Joyce,” Hopper groaned, helping her and the kids carry in presents. He didn’t even know where she got all of this, or how she could afford it, but every last parcel went under the tiny tree in the living room. El’s face hurt from smiling, but she tried not to be too excited.

“What?” Joyce asked, throwing her free arm out. Quietly, she adds, “I wanted her first Christmas to be memorable.”

“It will be,” he promises. “Thanks to you guys.”

Joyce places the present she was holding under the tree and hits Hopper’s chest lightly. “You did good, too, Hop.” She looks up at the Santa hat and smiles as she adjusts the brim. “It - It’s crooked.” Her tongue sticks slightly out of the side of her mouth as she stands on her tiptoes, and she lowers herself slowly, continuing to stare up at him. El watches closely, almost about to make the mistletoe hover above them, but Joyce finally breaks from her stare and brushes herself off. “Who wants to make cookies?”

The day went by quickly, spent baking and taking breaks to watch movies. Jonathan rolled his eyes nearly the entire time, but stayed patient for El - and for Will, too, who was enjoying it. Will explained things for El - like who the Grinch was, and how animated movies work. El would nod and listen, but her mind kept wandering to Hopper and Joyce, who were prepping things in the kitchen.

“You don’t have to bake a pie,” Joyce said, fiddling with the pie crust. “Just because you’re eating at our house doesn’t mean you owe us.”

“I owe you for more than that.” He leans against the counter and sips on his coffee. “You made her so happy.”

Joyce shrugs. “Every kid deserves a good Christmas. Especially her. And Will.”

Hopper nods and stops himself from thinking too hard about the last two years. The only good things about it was adopting El and reconnecting with Joyce.

“Remember that snowball fight in the schoolyard?”

Joyce smiles and nods. “The one you started?”

“It wasn’t me!” he promises, laughing. “It was another Jim.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Joyce beams. “The only person who would hit me in the head with a snowball is you.”

“That’s not true.”

Joyce scoffs and turns to him. “Do you think everyone should hit me in the head?”

“I’m not saying that,” he says slowly. “But you did get hit, like, ten times -”

Joyce reaches for some leftover cookie icing and swipes it onto Hopper’s nose. He’s taken aback, but Joyce smiles wide, wiping her hands on her pants.

“You did not just do that.”

Joyce feigns a frown. “Mmm. Looks like I did.”

Hopper reaches for the icing, but Joyce grabs his arm, laughing. “No, Hop - don’t -”

His finger swipes across her cheek and she gasps, not quite shocked but a little surprised, and grabs more for herself. “You ass -”

“Language,” he says, dodging her lunge. “Jeez, Joyce, you haven’t been this feisty since -”

“Since when?” she asks, lunging for him again, and Hop grabs her wrists to stop her. She takes a step towards him and their chests touch, both smiling. But Hopper’s smile falters, because Joyce is so beautiful, and this is the first time he’s seen her smile in a long, long time. He never wants the moment to end. Joyce suddenly bristles, and she gently slides out from his grip.

“Since high school,” Hop says smoothly, resting on the counter again.

“Yeah, well,” Joyce mumbles, once again playing with the pie crust. Her face falls, and then she looks over to him. “Do you even know how to make a pie?”

“You could teach me.”

She smiles again. “Well, I guess I have to.”

===

The kids managed to doze off, apparently too bored with the movies that were playing. Joyce and Hopper sat at the kitchen table, sharing cigarettes and a bottle of wine.

“What was the worst Christmas you’ve ever had?” Hopper asks, flicking his cigarette into the ashtray.

“Oh,” Joyce says, like she was waiting for the question. “First Christmas with Lonnie. He spent all of our money to get himself a - a - a gun. Didn’t even get me anything.”

Hopper swallows down his anger, never one to like Lonnie, especially after what he’d done to Joyce. “Damn.”

“Yeah.” She takes a drag. “Said his gift to me was to teach me how to use it.”

“Never took him up on it, huh?”

“No way,” she says, flicking her own ash. “What was yours?”

Hopper’s stomach drops and he diverts his eyes from hers, choosing to stare at the smoke rising from the glass tray. “First Christmas after Sarah.”

Joyce exhales slowly. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have -”

“It’s okay,” he says. “I don’t think about it much anymore.”

Joyce frowns and reaches for his hand, resting hers on top of it. “You’re doing a really good job.”

Hopper chuckles. “Thanks.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

There’s a moment of silence before Joyce retracts her hand and asks, “What was your best  Christmas?”

Hopper smiles gently, takes a drag, and flicks the ash. “This one.” His eyes wander over the El, curled up on his chair, the boys sleeping on the couch. “It’s nice… being around people again. I guess….” He looks at his hands. “I guess I missed it.”

Joyce bites her lip. “It’s my best Christmas, too.”

Hopper looks up, brows furrowed. “Really?”

“Really,” she whispers. “Because I have Will, and he’s safe. And Jonathan’s safe. And El is safe and happy.”

“Yeah.” Hopper takes a slow drag. “You know why else it’s my favorite Christmas?”

“Why?”

He pauses. “Because I could spend time with you.”

He thinks he’s imagining Joyce’s blush, but she moves a hand up to her face to hide it, confirming its existence. “It’s been a long time, huh?”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “It’s nice to….” He swallows. “To have you back.”

Joyce looks like she’s holding back, but she finally whispers, “It’s nice to have you back, too.”

And Hopper doesn’t know how, but there’s suddenly mistletoe hanging above them. He swears it wasn’t there before, that it just appeared in his line of vision. Joyce also seems shocked. “Wh - I don’t remember hanging that up.”

“Me neither.” Hopper puts his cigarette out and stands at the same time Joyce does to examine it.

“It looks like something from my house,” Joyce says, brows furrowed. “How - How’d it get - here?”

“What the hell is it hanging off of?” Hopper mutters, and then he realizes it’s floating - El.

His head snaps to the chair. El’s still curled up with her eyes closed, but she’s smiling slightly. Hopper smiles too, then looks back at Joyce, who’s still eyeing the mistletoe.

“How did it -?”

“Joyce.”

“Maybe one of the kids brought it -”

“Joyce.”

“What the heck is it hanging on?”

“Joyce!”

She finally looks at him. “What?”

Hopper was expecting her to get the hint. “Uh. Do you know what mistletoe is for?”

“Yeah?”

He chuckles timidly. “Eh - uh, Joyce.”

She shakes her head, lifts her eyebrows. “Yeah?”

He leans forward and kisses her, fast, so fast that she hardly even registers it. She looks shocked when he pulls back, and his cheeks flush. Joyce stares at him with wide eyes still, trying to process it.

“I’m so- shit, I’m sorry,” he says, but Joyce leans forward and kisses him, quick, before pulling back.

They both stare at each other, and then the mistletoe falls, shocking them both out of it. Will and Jonathan wake up at the sound, and El wipes her nose as she sits up and stretches. Hopper grabs the mistletoe and holds it while Joyce runs a hand through her hair, biting her lip to stop the smile. “Boys, we sh… we should probably go. It’s late.”

Hopper smiles as he watches them pack up, Joyce tripping over herself.

“Are you okay, mom?” Jonathan asks, holding onto her arm.

“Fine,” she says, waving him off, pointedly avoiding Hopper’s gaze. “Must - must’ve drank too much.”

“I’ll drive, don’t worry about it,” Jonathan says, helping her into her coat.

“You guys drive safe, okay?” Hopper says, an amused smile on his face, and Joyce’s cheeks flush.

“We will. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Everyone says their goodbyes - Joyce and Hop’s gaze lingering a little too long - and when the door shuts, Hopper turns on his heels, looking right at El. He smiles wide. “Didn’t know you were a little trickster.”

She beams and shrugs. “Merry Christmas.”

Hopper steps forward and hugs her, pulling her in close. “Merry Christmas, kid.”

===

tags:  @pterawaters​ @mpmarypoppins​ @kurtsbuckethat​