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Chapter Text

Chapter Text

It was winter in Nottingham; the smell of burning wood and spices heavy within the air as the people stayed as warm as they could while snow dusted the ground. Snow-turned-muddy slush covered the paths where the horses frequented, a pink nose turning up slightly in disgust as his horse trotted through the town. 

While the people were dreary, the heavy taxes still taking a toll, it seemed that nothing could damper a festive spirit; not even the Sheriff of Nottingham. Though, Guy of Gisborne wasn't too terribly interested in enforcing the law for the day. 

Even he had a heart, he had to think. 

With purpose, Guy of Gisborne steered his horse to the outskirts of Nottingham where a vineyard was situated; the harvest season freshly ended and the crops beginning to whither. There was a scent within the air; spicy and reminiscent of apple cider, and Guy's cheeks flushed.

It seemed his favorite vintner in Nottingham was trying a new recipe. 

When he got to the door, Guy slid off of his horse, making a face at the mud beneath his boots before he knocked upon the door. There was a yelp, a crash, and suddenly, the door opened to reveal you. You were wearing a purple-stained apron, grape juice staining your fingers, and there was sweat running down your temple. 

Your cheeks were flushed, and if Guy didn't know any better, it would have seemed you were...up to extracurricular activities other than wine-making. 

"Oh! Hello, Sheriff, I wasn't expecting you."

Guy raised a brow, a smirk playing on his lips as he tilted his head. 

"Truly? I do make it a point to come here after every harvest. Surely you would have remembered our annual meeting."

You couldn't help but to make a slight face at him, amusement coming over his face as he watched you become embarrassed by being caught. 

"Ah, that's a good point. I've just been so busy that it slipped my mind. Come on in, it's way too cold for you to be standing out there."

Guy didn't hesitate, walking into the warmth of your home; the scent of spices and freshly-baked goods assaulting his nose and making him almost melt. You led him through the main home to the back where the wine cellar and the winery equipment was; barrels upon barrels stacked on top of one another. Your father was nowhere in sight, making Guy hum in interest as you began to speak. 

"My father went to Barnsdale to sell some wine for the season, so the rest of the work has been left to me. I'm actually experimenting with the recipe this time. Here, have a cup and tell me what you think."

You grabbed a cup and a ladle, scooping up a hefty portion of steaming wine out of a pot that was situated over a low fire, various spices floating on the foamy surface. Guy was intrigued, looking up at you as you handed him the cup. 

"Hot wine...and spiced? That'll be a hefty loss if this fails."

You gave him a look, placing your hands on your hips and raising a brow; making Guy chuckle in response to your sassy comeback.

"Well, I enjoy it, so even if it doesn't sell, I can stay drunk for however long I please. Now, would you please try the wine?"

"Well, since you asked so nicely."

Guy sniffed the wine first, looking at you the whole time. You seemed nervous, fidgeting from foot-to-foot as you watched him, and Guy hummed, positioning the cup away from his mouth. 

"And what if this is a ploy to poison me, hm? Should I let myself believe a vixen like you wouldn't?"

"Oh, for the King's sake."

Guy grinned when you snatched the cup out of his hand and took a heft gulp, making a slight face from the heat of the liquid before giving it back to him and wiping the back of your hand against your mouth. 

"There. No poison."

Guy chuckled before he teased, placing the cup to his lips right where your lips had been. 

"I knew you couldn't...but now, I get a kiss by proxy. How lucky am I, the Sheriff of Nottingham?"

He wasn't sure if the blush on your face was from the alcohol or his words, but Guy was drinking it up as much as he could. When the hot wine touched his tongue, it sent a shiver down his spine and warmed him up so quickly that it felt as though sweat was already pearling at the back of his neck. His blue eyes were opened wide, his lips smacking noisily, and he hummed in appreciation. 

"Now that is a cup of wine."

You beamed happily at him, grabbing another cup and pouring more wine in it for yourself, sitting down in front of him at the table. 

"Truly, you like it? I was planning on distributing this at the market tomorrow. I think it would be very nice to share."

"Why not make a profit off of this? You would be highly regarded for such a delicious drink."

Guy was asking honestly; trying his best to understand your head and where it was that you were coming from, but you just sighed and shook your head. 

"Gisborne, you know that I don't like to sell my creations like that. Regular wine, yes, but I always like to share my creations first before I ever consider selling. I want this drink to be something that can be enjoyed; not something that is sought after like the water and bread we already struggle to make."

Your words made Guy go quiet, and while you feared that you had said too much or somehow stepped over a line, it actually made the Sheriff think for a moment. There was a pregnant pause, the only sound within the room of Guy sipping his wine, and he replied back. 

"Tomorrow, I will help you take this wine to the market and we shall let the people indulge."

You were in awe before you gently placed your hand over his own that was on the table, making Guy swallow slightly as he looked into your eyes. 

"Thank you, Guy of Gisborne. I see that even the Sheriff can have a festive heart."

Guy scoffed, never letting your hand go as he spoke. 

"Please, don't be ridiculous. I'm only doing this for the wine."

"Whatever you need to tell yourself, Sheriff."

Chapter Text

The car ride was quiet on the way back to Kansas; Scorpion serenading throughout the car as the interstate barreled down beneath the car. There was a distinct smell; odorous and nose-wrinkling that you couldn't tell if the sweet scent was from the blood and sweat or the bag of candy sitting between you and Dean.

You and Dean had just finished a particularly difficult Salt N Burn; the winter month making it difficult to dig into graves to salt and burn the bones of the angry deceased. So, while you were running around to distract the ghost; Dean was designated digger since he was stronger out of the two of you and could get through the frozen ground a bit easier.

However, the ghost wasn't exactly happy that the two of you were there. It had become a dance between you and Dean; you distracting the ghost before the ghost got pissed and went to Dean, and then Dean would have to throw you the shovel and vice versa.

When you both had finally gotten the bones set on fire and the ghost was gone; sweat, dirt, and blood was running all over your bodies; the open grave and smell of gunpowder and burning salt in the air, you both couldn't help but to collapse on the cold, frosted ground.

When it got too cold too quickly, you and Dean had run to the car, Dean splaying out a big blanket over the seats so you two wouldn't ruin the upholstery. Then, it was back to Kansas. On the way, however, you had spotted a candy shop and had to convince Dean to stop so you could buy a bag of sweets; a congratulatory snack, you had said.

Dean definitely didn't complain. If you were buying, he was snacking.

So, after dumping a bunch of Christmas-themed candy into a bag and paying at the register, you and Dean were comfortably snacking on the sweets. There were old-fashioned hard candies with Christmas images, red and white ribbons and candy canes, chocolate-covered almonds and peanuts; you named it, it was in the bag.

And it seemed that Dean had a craving for the candy canes.

He was crunching down on the candy cane noisily, tossing the wrapper haphazardly out the window, and you couldn't help but to feel grossed out that he was eating his candy cane in such a way. You, in true candy cane-eating fashion, had sucked the end down to a sharp point; weaponizing the candy effectively.

And then you promptly stabbed Dean in the neck with it, poking his skin firmly but not hard enough to break skin. Dean recoiled, smacking his hand over his neck and flicking his annoyed, green gaze at you.

"Ouch! What the hell was that for?"

"You're crunching."

Dean gave you a confused look, reaching into the bag to grab one of the small hard candies; popping it into his mouth and making it a point to chew.

"What do you mean?"

"You're crunching your candy instead of savoring it, you weirdo. Who just crunches down on candy like that?"

Dean rolled his eyes before grabbing a candy-cane and tossing it at you, the offending candy smacking against your neck before falling down into your lap.

"Don't judge the way of the Wise, sweetheart, I've been eating this shit since before you could talk."

"You sound like a boomer, you old bag."

Dean gave you a look, and you couldn't help but to giggle, yelping when he threw another candy at you; this time an individually-wrapped white chocolate peanut butter cup.

"Yeah, well who the hell eats white chocolate, huh? It's not even real chocolate, you cocoa-hating freak. Not even GG Allin would go that far."

You snorted, and Dean just rolled his eyes before opening up another candy-cane. He made it a point to slowly crunch down on the candy, moaning excessively as he did, and you couldn't help but to laugh and push his arm.

"Dean, stop it!"

"'Dean, stop it!' My car, my candy rules."

You sighed and leaned back against the seat, groaning loudly when Dean began crunching excessively, and he glanced over at you; speaking around a mouthful of candy cane.

"Hey, if you've got a problem, we can talk it out now."

"You mean, you can crunch with your mouth open and I can talk while you don't listen?"

Dean laughed, patting your arm and shaking his head.

"This is why we work so well together. You understand me perfectly."

You chuckled and shoved him a little.

"That's probably not a good thing."

"Nope, but you're sitting in my car still."

You rolled your eyes before switching off from the cassette tape, Dean gasping in horror as Christmas music began to play from the radio station the impala was capturing.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Putting on some music to cover the sound of you chewing."

Dean glared at you, watching you as you smirked right back at him, turning Burl Ives' Have a Holly Jolly Christmas! up loud, and you began to sway as you sang.

Dean just huffed, grumbling to himself as he popped another candy cane into his mouth, but he was subtle in the way his other foot tapped along to the song; safely in the dark and away from your prying eyes.

Just this once, he would let shotgun pick the music, the undeniable swirl of butterflies and warmth spreading across his chest as you sang; your hand pushing against his shoulder and jolting him around as you laughed and giggled to yourself.

Dean couldn't help but to smirk slightly to himself, shaking his head as the little Christmas light charm on the rearview mirror swung and blinked with every bump he drove over.

Just this once, Dean would indulge in this time with you; his alto voice quietly joining in and making you smile so brightly at him, Dean could feel a lurch in his chest and the butterflies intensify.

"Chestnuts roasting on an open fire~"

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

You had lost feeling in your fingers long ago, the piss-poor gloves that you had knit beforehand doing absolutely nothing to keep the freezing temperature away.

They were aching, begging to let go of the reigns of your stallion; blisters rubbing within the confines of the wool before they had officially gone numb.

The Van der Linde gang had fled from Blackwater, fleeing to wherever salvation they could after the massacre, and when they got to Colter and the empty, abandoned village, it was only a matter of time.

Dutch, Arthur, and Hosea got everyone situated into one of the homes that wasn't completely broken down; a fire started within the fireplace with some wood that, thankfully, wasn't wet and frozen. There was hardly any space to sit as everyone hunkered down, and you were left sitting against the wall, rubbing your hands desperately.

If you didn't get them warmed up as soon as you could, you were gonna run the risk of frostbite if you haven't already; and you weren't really ready to lose any of your fingers nor toes.

Wiggling, stretching, and clenching your fingers, you shivered almost violently before squeezing your eyes shut. It was fine. It was definitely fine.

Your heartbeat began to race, anxiety filling your stomach, and you looked up at Arthur as he knelt in front of you, your hands clasped within his own. His hands were warm even through his gloves, and you almost melted along with your heart when he began to blow hot air on your frozen extremities.

"Mr. Morgan, you really don't have to do that."

Arthur shook his head, glancing up at you from beneath the brim of his hat.

"Don't worry about it. Don't wanna lose those fingers now, do we?"

His hazel blue-green eyes were kind as he looked up at you before he bent down again, blowing more hot air onto your hands. Already, the feeling was starting to come back, and you replied softly.

"No, I don't suppose we do. Thank you."

Arthur nodded, and the sound of Micah's voice made Arthur's grip on your hands tighten.

"Aw, look at the two lovebirds. I mean, I wasn't really in the market for a show, but I'd love to watch if you two don't mind."

You made a face at the man, teeth clenching. Before you or Arthur could retort, Bill hissed out.

"Oh, would you shut the fuck up already, Micah? All you fucking do is yap, yap, yap about how everyone should be pullin' their weight, and yet I don't see you scoutin' ahead with Marston like you're supposed to be!"

Micah gave Bill a look, gesturing to the fire.

"Am I not allowed some warmth as well? What use would I be to Dutch if I lose my fingers? Come on, Arthur, show me some sweetness too!"

He snickered, and you snapped, Arthur's eyes glancing up at you in surprise as the smirk on Micah's face slowly fell into an expression of anger and offense.

"You'd be of better use stuck in a shallow grave where you belong, you rat. You're only purpose in life is to waste the oxygen that God provides to you, it seems. Now get the hell out of here! The terrain ain't gonna scout itself...unless I need to tell Dutch that his favorite bastard ain't bastarding like he used to?"

"What the hell did you say to me, you bitch?"

Arthur finally stood, letting your hands go to settle one on his holster, glaring down at Micah.

"You need to get on right now, or I'll leave where you lie, boy."

Dutch suddenly walked into the house, making Micah give one last glare to you, Arthur, and Bill before giving some sod excuse as to why he hadn't left yet when Dutch questioned him. Arthur took a breath before shaking his head, clasping your hands within his own again.

"That damn snake...don't even know why we kept him."

You huffed slightly before asking Arthur, making him glance at you.

"Are you alright, Arthur?"

Arthur's gaze was soft, a slight smirk on his lips.

"Think I should be asking you that, Miss (L/n). I think that's first time I've seen you get upset like that."

You were embarrassed, shrugging your shoulders as your fingers began to feel warm again.

"Forgive me, I shouldn't have been so abrasive like that. Mr. Bell just...gets on my nerves."

"He gets on everyone's damn nerves. Ain't no reason to apologize."

Your fingers had gotten warm a few minutes ago, but you were enjoying the way Arthur was holding your hands. If he had noticed that they were warm as well, Arthur didn't say anything. He was glancing around the cramped cabin, taking in everyone's condition before he glanced back at you.

"You warmed up?"

"I think so. Thank you, Arthur."

Arthur nodded before he stood, murmuring softly.

"Don't let that snake get to you, alright? we're gonna get ourselves out of this mess."

"I believe you."

Arthur nodded, gently backing away a bit before he took his scarf off and wrapped it around your hands. You were surprised, opening your mouth to reject when Arthur hummed to you.

"I got another in the saddlebag. Don't worry about it. You just focus on staying warm, Miss (L/n)."

You nodded slowly before glancing down at the scarf wrapped around your hands, the residual warmth and Arthur's scent lulling you into a calm and relaxed state.

Arthur spared you one last glance before he left outside where Dutch was beckoning him, a grim expression on the gang leaders face and stealing his attention away.

I bet he doesn't even realize that it's almost Christmas, you thought to yourself, a small and giddy smile on your face as you held your hands close to you; a newfound warmth spreading all over your body and butterflies fluttering within your chest.

How beautiful it was for butterflies to be fluttering within winter.

Chapter Text

The winter months were always the best for Squad 10 of the 13 Court Guard Squads. Since their captain operated the best during the winter, his moods tended to be a lot brighter; becoming a bit slack in his strict ways as the snow and cold air eased his stressed mind.

At least, until his loving subordinate, (Y/n) (L/n), would come around.

Toshiro tapped his fingers against his desk, chin in his palm as he stared down at the reports you had done so far for Rangiku while the Lieutenant went out to do who knows what.

You had joined the squad a few months prior, having been hand-picked out of the few that had been selected, and you had fit right in, according to Rangiku.

Meaning, you tended to enable the Lieutenants unpleasant behavior.

It was very annoying for Toshiro, he had to admit, when he would find you here in the office instead of Rangiku; busy doing her reports while she would be missing; her stash of sake also missing from the various spots she normally hid the bottles.

He had tried everything he could to get you to stop doing her dirty work: scolding, lecturing, gentle words, harsher words, and yet you never budged.

The only response you would ever give him would be a meek 'I'm already here so I might as well, Captain,' and he would have no heart to scold you harder. Instead, the poor captain would relent, and the office would be filled with the sounds of writing, stretching every once in a while, and the occasional sip of tea.

It wasn't that he hated that you were in his office or that you were working. Toshiro appreciated that you had the drive to want to work hard and to do extra, but he hated that you were doing Rangiku's work for her consistently.

Rangiku didn't do a lot of work as it was, so for her to be slacking off and putting her work on an underling that already had reports to do of their own? It was downright infuriating.

Currently, you were sitting in the office with him again, bent over the table as you concentrated on writing, and Toshiro couldn't seem to keep his gaze off of you. Toshiro almost jolted by the sound of your voice and the way your head lifted slightly to look at him, but rather look away in embarrassment, Toshiro simply hardened his gaze as if it was a challenge.

"Captain Hitsugaya, is something the matter?"

"We have this conversation so often, it drives me insane to try to speak about it again. I hope you understand what I'm annoyed about."

You sighed gently, the exhaustion flashing across your face, and Toshiro's lips pursed; his tone becoming firm but caring.

"You are visibly exhausted, and I don't think I've seen you eat anything as of yet, and you've been here all day. You need to stop doing the reports and go eat."

You sat up straight, bones popping and cracking loudly, and Toshiro couldn't help but to wince slightly from the noise before listening to your excuses carefully.

"Captain, with all due respect, I didn't sleep well last night so that is why I'm exhausted. I ate something while you stepped out to deliver the paperwork to the Head Captain."

Toshiro crossed his arms, raising a white brow at you.

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I don't expect you to do anything, Captain. I'm just trying to do my job for you."

Toshiro shook his head, waving a hand in front of him as he became frustrated, his blue eyes steely.

"I understand that you take this job seriously, and I appreciate that as your captain, but it is not fair for you to be doing Rangiku's work like this all the time. You have your own priorities already. At this rate, you are going to work yourself to death."

You were listening intently, back straightened and hands atop of your lap as if you were a soldier being scolded. In a way, Toshiro guessed that you were, and the man couldn't help but to relent when you asked him.

"Captain, can I be transparent and honest with you?"

Toshiro quirked an eyebrow up, intrigue piquing his mind as he looked at you.

"What is it?"

You seemed uncertain for a moment, your eyes glancing down for a moment before they came right back up, gentle in your reproach.

"I like spending time here...there's no distractions, there's nobody knocking on my door for measly reasons, and I feel...at peace when I am here. I know you don't enjoy it when I do Rangiku's work, but I do it because it means I get to be here with you."

Toshiro's eyes were wide, a blush settling on his cheeks, and he couldn't help but to look away from you, frowning.

"I..I don't know what to say."

Toshiro wasn't exactly known to be a very likeable person. Because of how strict he was when it came to the work that he assigned, Toshiro was every bit of professional when it came to his job; especially when his livelihood depended on his ability to put work first.

"It's okay, you don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know that I'm aware that I enable Rangiku's behavior, but I do it for a reason that is important to me."

Toshiro almost cursed the way that his voice shook slightly, still unable to look up from your pretty handwriting as he asked you.

"A-And what might that be?"

"I enjoy spending time with you, Captain Hitsugaya."

Toshiro's throat closed up for a moment, the blush hot and coursing along his neck and shoulders, and Toshiro had to force himself to clear his throat and sit up straight. He almost didn't try to look at you, eyes shut tightly before he carefully opened them to see you simply writing again.

It was baffling to him how you could say something so profound and then treat it as if it was normal for you; your eyes concentrating back onto your papers, and Toshiro couldn't help but to lean back in his chair slightly.

Were you aware of the weight of your words? Were you aware of the things you allowed to slip between your pretty lips? Were you aware of how unprofessional it was for you to say something like that and Toshiro not to care?

"I...didn't realize you enjoyed my presence."

It was an awkward statement; stupid, even, in his mind, but you simply chuckled at him, shaking your head.

"You don't see what you don't look for. It's only natural that you're ignorant to what I think and feel when you don't ask."

For some reason, your words made him feel bad, and Toshiro cleared his throat as he understood the meaning behind your words.

"You're right. I apologize for how hard I have been on you about doing Rangiku's dirty work. However, I will still stand by my opinion that you shouldn't be doing her work for her."

He hummed and asked you, tilting his head gently.

"How about you come here with your work instead? I'll make sure to have Rangiku bring in a second desk for you."

You seem surprised, and before you could respond, the door to the office slammed open. Both you and Toshiro jolted when Rangiku stepped in, her whole uniform and her hair wet; bits of unmelted snow falling to the floor as she exclaimed.

"Captain! The whole squad is in a snowball fight with Squad 6! We need backup, immediately!"

A tic mark appeared on his forehead, and Toshiro smacked his hand down onto his desk, his blue eyes stern.

"Well, maybe this wouldn't have happened if you would do your damn work, Rangiku!"

"Aw, come on! Sweet little (Y/n) wanted to do it today!"

Toshiro stood, frowning as he could hear the distant sounds of yells and screams.

"That does not matter. You have been taking advantage of her kindness, and I am not tolerating it anymore, Rangiku."

You had yet to speak, and Rangiku whined again.

"But Captain! Ugh, if I do the work, will you please help provide some backup? We're taking causalities!"

You were tapping your pen excitedly, whispering lowly to Toshiro.

"Captain, if I may add: I do feel Kurosaki's spiritual pressure, and I believe you still have a score to settle with him for last time."

More tic marks appeared, and Toshiro had to admit: you had a pretty persuasive way of speaking. Huffing, Toshiro shook his head.

"Fine, but you better be in here afterwards finishing your work, Rangiku."

Rangiku cheered, and you chuckled before asking as Toshiro pushed his chair back into his desk.

"Captain, would it be alright to spectate?"

"What do you mean? You've been enabling Rangiku's behavior, so you're not getting out of this either."

His eyes were playful; tone teasing, and you couldn't help but to become shy, shrugging.

"Right, my apologies."

Toshiro nodded before gesturing you.

"Come on."

With a chipper spring to your step, you both exited his office; Rangiku's stack of papers falling the second the door closed.

Chapter Text

His eyes were exhausted as he gazed down the book he was reading, the distant sound of children playing outside catching his ear every once in a while. When the bell for the school rang and signaled that it was halfway through recess, Sasha's head lifted slightly, and he glanced out the window. 

Excitement filled his veins, and Sasha slowly rolled his wheelchair to stare out of the window at the playground. Snow was falling, the ground blanketed heavily and glistening in the winter sun. 

Children were throwing snowballs and diving into the snow and making snow angels, and Sasha smiled gently. Snow angels could only mean one thing.

You were going to be coming home soon. 

Sasha glanced down, taking out his wallet to open it up. Shoulders relaxing, Sasha couldn't help but to blush and chuckle to himself as he looked down at a picture of you, your arms around his shoulders as Sasha just rolled his eyes. 

It was the day after he had been released from the hospital after Leon had shot him to kill the plagas he had infected himself with in order to fight for the independence of the Eastern Slav Republic. 

While Leon had gone back to the states to continue his vacation, you had stayed behind to help the government tie up any loose ends and destroy any more B.O.W's. 

However, when your time wasn't spent cleaning up Svetlana's mess, you were at the hospital and keeping him company; telling him about what was happening as he was recovering and letting him know how Svetlana's treason case was going. 

He didn't know when he started to enjoy your company, when his heart stopped hurting every time he thought about Irina, when it began to race within your presence instead. 

Sasha didn't know when he began to anticipate your visits and your talks or when you would take him to the public pool in the untouched parts of the city to help him with his physical therapy.

When you were called back to the US, Sasha had been devasted until about a year later. Apparently, thanks to you, Leon, and a woman named Hunnigan, bugging the DSO Director, you told him that you would be stationed in Europe every winter since the winter months tended to be a slow time for the DSO anyway. 

And so, Sasha began to anticipate the winter months; the snow almost like a calling card for you. Sasha knew that when the ground glistened like diamonds, when mulled wine filled his cup, and when the scent of pine filled the air; you would be coming home to him. 

The bell rang again, and Sasha was brought out of his thoughts by the children filing into the classroom. They were all talking loud, rosy cheeks and coats covered in snow, and Sasha sighed gently with a smile. 

"Alright, make sure to place your coats onto the coat rack. We don't want the floor to get wet and become dangerous."

The kids all answered enthusiastically, and Sasha wheeled himself back to his desk, beginning to get his materials ready when one of his kids exclaimed with excitement. 

"Miss (L/n)! Miss (L/n)!"

Sasha's gaze shot up, and there you were, his snow angel in the flesh. You were bundled up heavily, putting on a show for the kids as you took your scarf off. 

"My, oh my! It's so cold out there, I think I almost froze on the way here!"

The kids laughed as they crowded around you, and Sasha was further surprised to see Leon peeking over your shoulder with a smirk, teasing you as he shook his gloves off. 

"If I had known any better, I'd say you did with how bad you were shivering on the way here."

"Oh, don't listen to him, kids! He's just grumpy because I wouldn't let him drive."

Your gaze met Sasha's, and he couldn't even stop himself from smiling widely, his neck becoming hot as he blushed. 

"I wasn't expecting company."

You giggled and walked around the children to pull up a stool and sit beside him, winking at him as you gave him a gift. 

"I decided to save Leon from Director Simmons' excessive summons."

"She didn't even tell me where we were going until we were already in the boarding area of the airport."

Leon made a face at you before smirking at Sasha, clapping his shoulder gently. 

"But, it's nice to see you, Buddy."

Sasha's heart was warm; filled to the brim with love and appreciation that his eyes became glassy, hiding the emotional tears that threatened to fall as he looked into the gift bag. 

"My friends call me Sasha...if that's alright with you."

Leon grinned and one of the kids came up to the desk, exclaiming at you. 

"Miss (Y/n), are you gonna do story time for us?"

The kids began to crowd you again, and you laughed loudly, Sasha unable to keep his gaze off of you as you interacted with the kids. Hell, he couldn't even be upset that the lesson he had planned was now null for the day; just happy that his snow angel was back. 

You had finally come home to him again, and Sasha couldn't be more in love.

Chapter Text

Shoto Todoroki didn't know if he was a good husband. In the life of a Pro Hero, there wasn't a lot of time that he could spend leisurely at home with his wife.

Being a hero meant being able to save someone in a split second, dropping everything make sure someone got to go home to their family at the end of the day.

However, you made sure to remind Shoto that he was, in fact, a good husband every time that he came home from work. Coming home was the one thing that Shoto often looked forward to at the end of the day, and when you would greet him while in the kitchen, wearing that pretty smile that made all of his worries melt away, Shoto never felt better.

When Shoto entered the apartment that he shared with you, the sweet scent of cookies made his nostrils flare, and he was curious to see what you were up to.

The whole apartment was decorated for Christmas, little Santa's and Christmas ornaments and lights strewn all over the place; like it's own little North Pole.

Shoto's hand came up to the homemade ice heart that hung beneath your wedding picture, ice crawling from his fingertips and to the melting hard to replenish the ice before he made his way to the kitchen.

You were standing at the counter, dancing slightly to the Christmas music that was playing from the stereo, and Shoto was surprised to see a bunch of bowls and pans all over the counters.

Flour and icing covered your apron, a bit of icing swiped against your cheek and powdered sugar dusting your chin a bit, and Shoto asked you as he set his bag down on the couch.

"Would you like any help?"

You perked up the second his voice broke through the music, eyes lighting up and a smile crossing your face. Shoto could feel the tense muscles in his body relaxing from the sight, and you nodded to him.

"Yes, can you stir the cookie batter for me? I've been trying to make this damn icing and I'm missing something and can't figure it out for the life of me!"

Shoto walked over, rolling his sleeves up before grabbing a green spatula decorated with snowflakes and began to get to work. He asked you, glancing at the red icing you were taste testing before swiping it into a piping bag for the gingerbread cookies that were to the right of you and moving to the next bowl of icing, this bowl colored green.

"What's the occasion?"

"Oh, Bakugo asked for some help because his daughter has a christmas party at school tomorrow and she wanted Auntie (Y/n)'s cookies to show off."

Shoto couldn't help but to chuckle gently, teasing you softly as he began to scoop out the cookie dough onto some greased sheets that were lying nearby.

"I don't know how I feel about Izumi Bakugo using my wife for free labor."

"Oh, don't you start, Todoroki."

You and Shoto laughed softly and he glanced over at you when you held your finger full of icing out for him. Shoto leaned down, licking the icing from your finger and humming gently.

"I think it needs a bit more sugar."

"That's what I thought, I just needed a second opinion."

Shoto smiled and you finally finished the icing, putting it into the piping bag and handing him the red icing bag.

"Alright, come on, we're gonna decorate these ones and then we're gonna fill some mini bags so the kids can decorate their cookies how they want to."

Shoto nodded and after a couple hours, you two were finally done. Shoto leaned his back against the counter, head falling back as he breathed and relaxed, and he paused at the feeling of you tapping him. Shoto looked over at you, and you were holding out a cookie for him, a sweet smile on your face.

Shoto couldn't refuse, taking the sweet treat and biting into it; the flavor of ginger and icing bursting on his tongue and making him sigh.

"You're such an amazing baker. I look forward to the holidays every day because of you."

You giggled, nudging him teasingly.

"Aw, you're so sweet. I just like to bake. Takes my mind off of things and helps me relax. Besides, it makes me feel happy knowing our friends' kids enjoy them so much too."

Shoto licked his lips and fingers clean before he faced you, his hand dancing down your wrist to your fingers as his eyes softened.

"Who knows, maybe one day we'll have our own kids to bake with and celebrate the holidays with."

"I can't wait for that day, Shoto."

Shoto leaned down, kissing you gently, and he melted into you as the taste of icing met his desperate tongue again. Yes, Shoto loved the holidays because of you and your baking, but Shoto loved the holidays more when he got to taste the sweet flavor of icing from your perfect lips.

Chapter Text

It was times like this that Grimmjow tended to curse his heightened sense of smell. Spices that made his nose burn, sweets that made his stomach turn, and the scents of the humans around him blending together gave the Arrancar a headache. While Urahara was still trying to tweak his gigai in a way that would buffer the sense, it didn't work very well.

He wasn't even sure why he was even here.

Grimmjow sipped the whiskey in his glass, glaring down into the glass as he watched the ball of ice slowly melt, and he was tempted to destroy the radio as horrible, Western Christmas music echoed throughout the shop.

It was the holidays; some human celebration that Grimmjow didn't care enough about to learn of, but he knew it was highly regarded due to the amount of food, people, and gifts were being exchanged. While Grimmjow wanted to leave so badly, he wasn't exactly interested in hearing Urahara get onto his case about it.

"This is gonna really help you get acquainted with pretending to be human here, mmkay?"

What was even the fucking point? It's not like he intended to stay around here for long. He was just here for civil pleasantries and the food.

But then you walked up to him and his whole mind and body was wrapped up in your scent, and Grimmjow had to lift the glass to his nose so the strong smell of ethanol would cover your intoxicating scent.

His blue eyes regarded you in a sneer, glancing down at the gift that was in your hand, and Grimmjow raised his brow as you fidgeted before him.

Like the true predator he was, Grimmjow honed in on the way you were nervous. He could smell it through the alcohol; your scent twinged with an innocent anxiety that he wanted to tear his teeth into and feast on. Grimmjow's grip upon his glass tightened slightly, and his ears pricked as you spoke.

"I know you probably don't really care about gifts, but I didn't want you to be left out so I...got something that I thought you would like."

Grimmjow wouldn't deny that he was surprised, but he was apprehensive at the small gift that was within your hands. Placing his glass down on the table beside him, Grimmjow crossed his arms and scoffed.

"You got me a gift? What the hell for?"

You regarded him with a surprised expression before you chuckled slightly as if you remembered he wasn't exactly familiar with the concept of Christmas.

"Well, it's Christmas. Everyone gets each other gifts for the holiday."

"Sounds stupid to me. Whatever."

Deep within him, there was an innocent curiosity that begged to be stoked and nurtured. His fingers twitched, and he was unable to resist the mystery that lied within the palm of your small hands.

Grimmjow snatched the gift out of your hand, and he took delight in the way you jumped; not expecting him to take the gift despite verbally berating the idea.

Opening up the little bag, Grimmjow carelessly tossed the tissue paper out before pulling out the gift, tilting his head slightly. It was keychain, bright silver glinting within the lights of the shop. Attached to the chain was a fang, and Grimmjow glanced at you as you explained.

"It's a genuine panther fang...I requested the metal to be made with pure stainless steel that way it lasts for a long time...and because you remind me of steel with how strong and resistant you are."

You were embarrassed, glancing down at your feet, and you hummed as Grimmjow continued to stare at the keychain with a neutral expression; revealing nothing to you as you spoke.

"I just...thought that maybe you would like it, but if you don't, I can...I can return it. It really wasn't too expensive-"

Say that to the 38000 yen you were missing now, but you weren't going to tell Grimmjow that (you doubt he had grasped the concept of money yet anyway). Grimmjow cut you off before you could continue to speak, furrowing his brow at you.

"Stop your damn yappin, woman."

Your lips became pursed, and Grimmjow wasn't sure how to react. In all his life, Grimmjow hadn't received a gift just because. In the life that he had lived, there was always some sort of deal or favor that would be asked of him when given something; but there was no expectation within your eyes.

You were so nervous that you were practically shaking in your boots, unable to look him in the eye as he held the keychain up, and Grimmjow could tell you weren't trying to get him to do something or ask him anything.

So, in short, Grimmjow was downright confused. He wasn't exactly sure of the concept of gift-giving just because nor did Grimmjow understand why. What was the point? If it didn't aid him in battle or helped him to beat Kurosaki's ass, what was the point? His throat felt tight, uncharacteristic and foreign as he became awkward and unsure for once.

"The hell is the point?"

You weren't exactly sure how to answer him before shrugging, looking smaller and smaller the more Grimmjow stared at the keychain.

"I just...wanted to do something nice for you, that's all."

Grimmjow couldn't help the way his nose crinkled. He wasn't trying to be mean; he wasn't intentionally sneering at you, but Grimmjow wasn't sure of how else to be. As before, he'd never received a gift before that wasn't done out of some attempt to manipulate or control him, so this was completely new territory.

"I...I don't have anything to give you."

You looked absolutely floored by the way his voice became quiet, his hand curling around the fang and keeping it in a tight grip as he looked away, and you chuckled, making his blue eyes narrow as they shot towards you.

"You don't have to give me anything in return, Grimmjow. That's what Christmas is about: it's to celebrate friendships and those that you care about through gift-giving and just...being together."

"Just...being...together?"

His tone was questioning, looking perplexed for a second before Urahara's booming voice made the two of you jump, the man sporting a shit-eating grin as he held a fishing pole with a sprig of mistletoe above the two of you.

"What do you mean you don't have something to give in return? Why, your opportunity is right here!"

You looked horrified, Grimmjow's lips curling back in a murderous sneer, standing up straight and tall and shielding you slightly as he glared at Urahara.

"The hell is your problem? You wanna fight or something?!"

Urahara laughed loudly, Yoruiichi covering her face in the corner and shaking her head. In the back, you could faintly hear Ichigo choking on his drink as Uryu exclaimed 'what the hell is he thinking?!' while Grimmjow's ears pricked slightly.

"Oh, Grimm, you got it all wrong, my friend! This little thing right here-"

Urahara teasingly dangled the mistletoe in front of Grimmjow's face, quickly darting the sprig above Grimmjow's head when the man tried to snatch it right off of the line.

"-is mistletoe! And in human tradition, anybody that get caught beneath it with another person has to kiss them!"

Grimmjow's face was completely wiped of emotion before his hand snatched the forgotten whiskey glass from the table and swung it at Urahara, the man ducking with a laugh as his hat slowly followed. The glass shattered against the wall, and Grimmjow hissed in embarrassment.

"That's so fucking stupid, and you're not about to make a goddamn fool out of me, you bastard!"

Your hand was cool against his skin, and Grimmjow whipped his head back to look at you; feeling a strange sense of guilt at the sad look on your face.

"It's okay, Grimmjow, it's not...that serious. It's just a stupid tradition that nobody really follows anymore."

If you thought it as stupid, then why was there sadness and disappointment staining your scent like a growing disease? Did you...did you actually want to kiss him? Were you upset that Urahara was making a fool out of you as well? Grimmjow scoffed and exclaimed to Urahara, his cheeks growing warm as he said.

"Listen, dipshit, I'm not about to let you make a goddamn fool out of me. As if I would need some dumbass plant to make me kiss her."

Grimmjow then turned to you, cupping your cheeks, and he slammed his lips against yours. His heart was pounding within his chest; adrenaline rushing through his body, and Grimmjow pulled you closer when your hands rested against his chest.

At first, Grimmjow thought you were going to push him away, but instead, you melted into him; his tense muscles relaxing just the slightest.

He pulled away, his nose brushing against yours and his lips ghosting yours as the man panted, and he was aware of a bright flash. His senses kicked in again, and he hissed at Urahara, who was holding a camera and a delighted grin.

"Aw, you two are so adorable! It almost makes me think that you're ready for the real world now, Grimm Kitty."

That was it. He was gonna kill him. Grimmjow gave you the keychain back, growling.

"Hold onto this for me, will ya, woman? I'm gonna fucking kill this annoying piece of shit."

Grimmjow exited his gigai, the gigai falling forward into your arms and making you yelp and collapse while trying to hold the weight, and Grimmjow began to chase Urahara around, yelling and screaming profanities while you simply giggled with a grin on your face, holding Grimmjow's gigai close as the polaroid picture that fell from Urahara's camera landed on the ground beside you.

Thank god for mistletoe and Kisuke Urahara!

Chapter Text

Ken Takakura hadn't made a wishlist since he was 9. When he had discovered that Santa Claus wasn't actually real, and it was just his parents putting the presents under his tree, Takakura had been devastated. It had made him become slightly jaded by the holiday, and so every year since then, Takakura made it a point to avoid doing anything Christmas-like.

Call him petty, but Takakura was truly betrayed.

That's how he began to become obsessed with the supernatural; researching anything about aliens and UFO's and things that go bump in the night. Coincidently, it was also how he met you.

You were just as obsessed about aliens and UFO's like he was; and when you had sat with him in the library, gushing about his alien book that he was reading; it was the start of something great, at least to him.

It wasn't easy for Ken to make friends, and you were his very first one he'd ever had. To say that Ken Takakura adored you would be an understatement.

Then, he met Momo Ayase, and everything changed. He got his penis and balls stolen, got cursed, got his penis back, then one of his balls back, and it was a whole ordeal that he tried desperately to keep you away from.

But you were always such a caring person, and though Takakura tried to protect you, you still got involved when Takakura suddenly wasn't around as much. Strangely enough, you had taken the news of his newfound power very well.

Nothing had changed despite this new development, but Takakura was thankful for that. In a way, you made him feel normal again. That was why on a Saturday afternoon, the two of you were huddled up in your room; Christmas-themed arts and crafts strewn around the room.

Glitter and marker ink stained your fingers, and Takakura was sitting at the desk, watching you as you made a popsicle-stick version of a gingerbread house. A pen was between his fingers, an empty sheet of paper in front of him; decorated with little reindeer and presents but otherwise blank besides the title you had made for him.

"You haven't made a christmas wishlist since you were 9?"

You didn't look at him, your face morphing into an expression of concentration as you carefully glued the popsicle sticks together; precise with your movements and placements.

"No. Ever since I found out Santa Claus wasn't real, I just never really had a good feeling about Christmas."

You pouted, glancing over at him and making his back tense slightly as you sighed.

"Aw, that's so sad though. You should still do one, you know? Even if Santa Claus isn't real, it'll still be a good way to figure out what you truly want for Christmas."

You did have a good point there, he supposed. Glancing back down at the paper, Ken Takakura was then stuck with a dilemma that he hadn't had to deal with for years.

What was it that he actually wanted for Christmas?

Sparing a glance at you, you had gone back to making your gingerbread house, the room filled with christmas music and the subtle sound of the two of you breathing, and Takakura could feel a blush begin to crawl up his neck as an idea struck him.

Carefully, his pen moved across the paper, and he began to write.

Kenny's Wishlist!

1. New Binoculars
2. Cryptology: A to Z
3. New pair of shoes
4. A kiss from (Y/n) (L/n)

Takakura swallowed thickly before he carefully, but quickly, but his list into the red envelope you had put onto the desk for him once he was done and sat back in his chair. You glanced up at him, raising a brow.

"Are you already done?"

"Yep."

You made a face at him, rolling your eyes and huffing.

"You better not have just left it blank."

"I didn't, I swear!"

He couldn't keep himself from blushing, clutching the wishlist close, and you shook your head at him, sighing and raising your hands in mock-surrender with a smile.

"Alright, alright, I'm just teasing you is all. Let's go put the envelope into the mailbox."

Takakura nodded, and the two of you stood up, brushing your clothes off, and you grabbed another red envelope from your bag. Takakura looked intrigued, asking as he adjusted his glasses and leaned down a bit.

"Is that your wishlist too?"

You smiled brightly, nodding to him and brushing it clean of any glitter, dust, or debris that had gotten onto it since the time of you making it until now.

"Yep. I got it done right around the beginning of December!"

Takakura hummed, asking you.

"What did you wish for?"

Your smile became soft and gentle, and you looked down at the envelope when the two of you made it to the mailbox.

(Y/n)'s Wishlist!

1. (first item)
2. (second item)
3. (third item)
4. A kiss from Ken Takakura
5. ...

"Oh, you know...the usual Christmas list stuff."

Takakura didn't exactly know what that meant, but he didn't care. As long as you were happy and kept smiling like that, Takakura could live blissfully ignorant for the rest of his life. Placing his envelope into the mailbox alongside yours, he became shy, adjusting his glasses and voice shaky.

"Hey, would you...maybe...um, want to...get some hot chocolate and watch the new Cryptid show that came out? They're airing the first episode in a little bit."

Your eyes sparkled with excitement, and you nodded, grabbing his hand and making the man damn-near combust as you dragged him inside the house again.

"Yes! Yes! I'm so excited for it, I hear the pilot is gonna be on vampires and the Chupacabra!"

Takakura gasped, momentarily forgetting that your hands were still conjoined by the time you two made it into the kitchen where the hot chocolate Christmas kits were waiting.

"No way, really?! I thought it was supposed to be on werewolves?"

"Nah, werewolves are lame!"

"Hey, that's not true!"

Chapter Text

The base on Diego Garcia was bustling with life. Autobots and N.E.S.T. soldiers alike were trying to rebuild after the battle with Sentinel Prime and Megatron, voices and machinery echoing throughout the place as everyone tried their best to get things done as quickly as possible.

While the rebuilding was being taken care of by regular soldiers alike, the few highly regarded N.E.S.T members were still taking care of Decepticons while they still could while the U.S. Government decided what they wanted to do with the Autobots.

Time had gone by so fast since then that Christmas was suddenly upon you, and you weren't sure what to do. Did Will even realize what time of year it was? You chewed the inside of your cheek, your pocket feeling heavy as your gift for your colonel as he mulled over paperwork.

You were supposed to be helping him tie up loose ends, but your mind was too occupied with anxiety to be able to focus. You were sure that William had noticed, but he had yet to say anything. However, when you didn't flip the page of a current report you were reading for over five minutes, William finally looked over at you.

"You doing alright?"

You jolted as if you just remembered where you were, and you ducked your head in shame, adverting your eyes away from William's as you replied halfheartedly.

"Oh, uh...yeah, I'm okay."

"You're such a shit liar, you know that?"

His tone was teasing, but William was worried about you. He could tell that you were struggling after the battle; becoming unsure and anxious with everything that you did, and though William didn't want to assume that you no longer wanted to work with N.E.S.T or supported it, he couldn't rule it out.

"My apologies, sir. I just don't want to add more to your plate."

William set his papers down and he turned to you to give his full attention, shaking his head.

"Listen, you're a valuable part of my team, so your well-being matters to me more than some dumbass reports our lovely Director of National Security wants."

You couldn't help but to chuckle, shaking your head at his sarcastic tone, and William smiled slightly. You became quiet; slowly drawing back into your shell as you began to think, and then you sighed and slipped your hand into your pocket.

Taking out a poorly-wrapped gift, you gave it to him, William's eyes widening in shock from the gesture.

"It's...almost Christmas, and you know that I don't really have folks at home, so you guys are as family as it gets. So, uh...Merry Christmas, Colonel."

William was astounded, caught off guard, and he moved to sit next to you, his frame slightly towering over yours as he inspected it.

"Wow, that's so kind of you, (L/n). You know you didn't have to do that, right?"

"I know, but...the opportunity came up and I took it because I knew this would be important for you."

William glanced at you before he carefully unwrapped the gift, and within his hands was a large disc with Cybertronian written on it. William wasn't sure why, but it seemed familiar, and you said quietly.

"It's Ironhide's Audio Receptor. I recovered it from the ashes, and I think it wasn't affected by Sentinel's gun because it fell off first before the rust touched it. I thought that you would want to have it."

William was floored, and his fingers brushed against the disc, speechless. You, however, continued to speak.

"I made sure to ask Optimus if it was okay to give it to you, and even Optimus agreed that you would be the most deserving person to have the last remnant that remains of Ironhide."

William glanced over at you, and he asked you softly.

"Is this why you've been so nervous since the battle? I thought...maybe you just didn't want to be apart of the team anymore. I thought you were waiting to ask me to resign."

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head, waving your hands wildly in front of you.

"Oh, no, no! God, no, I could never leave this job, Will. You, and the rest of N.E.S.T. have become my family. I pledged my life to you, and that hasn't changed. I just...I wasn't sure how to give this to you because I didn't want to upset you...and I wasn't sure if you were gonna go home for the holidays or not."

William wrapped his arm around your shoulders, bringing you close and resting his head against yours, your heart racing within your chest. He couldn't speak, choked up for a moment, and his voice was just above a whisper as he replied.

"This means more to me than you realize. Thank you, truly."

You relaxed against him, chuckling quietly.

"I'm glad that you liked it. I know it's probably a bit weird, but-"

"-No, it's not weird at all."

William cut you off. He sighed for a moment before he pulled away from you to hold the disc with two hands. He was staring down at the metal, his eyes looking exhausted as his shoulders sagged slightly.

"I miss him a lot...he was a good friend."

You rested your hand on his shoulders, your voice gentle.

"I'm sure he thought of you the same way, Colonel. If you'd like, I can take over doing reports so our lovely Director of National Security doesn't decide to drop by just to scream about the reports."

William shook his head gently, smiling before he propped up the disc against the lamp, the metal sparkling slightly within the light as William said.

"No, it's okay. I've got some pretty good motivation to get shit done now."

Smiling widely at William, he playfully nudged you before the two of you began to work on the reports again.

Chapter Text

"Ouch! That really hurt, Midoriya!"

"Oh no, I am so sorry! Are you okay? Do you need an ice pack? I'm so, so, so sorry!"

It was about 7pm at night in Musutafu, the city lit up in wonderful multicolors and glittering with snow as it came down heavily from the sky. You were decorating your home for Christmas, the holiday steadily approaching, and it had come time to decorate your tree.

Since you had been decorating your house and yard all day, you had decided to enlist the help of one of your closest friends to get the tree done.

Midoriya had been more than enthusiastic and had arrived to your house as soon as he could. The second he walked in, he was in awe by how much of a Winter Wonderland your apartment had become. Christmas lights, novelty items strewn around, and there was a mean-looking elf on the shelf that was staring right at him the second he opened the door.

'Always watching,' the sign attached said. Midoriya wasn't sure if he liked the elf that much.

You were in the kitchen when he had arrived, at the stove while the smell of chocolate filled the air. There were two mugs on the counter, a Gingerbread Man and a Gingerbread House, and they were filled with steaming chocolate.

Whipped cream adorned each of the rims and red, green, and white sprinkles with a candy cane hanging off of each side. There was also a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the counter, and Midoriya had been in heaven.

While waiting for the hot chocolate to cool down just enough so it wouldn't burn your tongues, you and Midoriya had gotten started on decorating the tree. Everything had been smooth, Midoriya reaching high and bending low while you gave directions on where to put the basic ornaments.

Then, it was the lights, the garland, the candy canes, and then it was time for the tinsel, and that's where things began to take a turn.

You had asked Midoriya to be the one to throw the tinsel around since One for All gave Midoriya the ability to float, and everything had gone well until Midoriya accidentally dropped the box of tinsel on you.

With a sore head and tinsel all over you, Midoriya was fussing about, checking your head and running to the kitchen to get an icepack. You weren't actually in pain, just a slight bump on the top of your skull, and when you glanced at yourself in the 'JOLLY' mirror that was beside the fireplace, you began to giggle.

"What is it?"

You leaned forward, taking Midoriya's hand when he offered it to you, and you stood up.

"I didn't think I needed a makeover that bad, Midoriya."

You blew some tinsel out of your face, and Midoriya became sheepish, rubbing the back of his head as he averted his gaze from you.

"No, it's not like that, I swear. You're beautiful all the time! I just...my hand slipped and...and I didn't grab the box in time before it fell on you. I really am sorry."

Your cheeks were hot, and a smile climbed over your face as you pointed out.

"I'm beautiful all the time?"

Midoriya looked horrified, face going completely red, and he exclaimed in embarrassment.

"No! I..I mean, yes! Yes, uh...all the time! I...Oh, please, help me."

He covered his face, and you laughed, gently taking his hands away from his face as Midoriya shyly looked at you. Taking some of the tinsel off of your head, you shook it all over him before saying with a cute smile.

"You're beautiful all the time to me too, Midoriya."

"R-Really?"

He looked awestruck, a part of him wondering if this was real and truly happening, and his heart began to race when you got closer to him, sliding your hands over his shoulders and around his neck and, oh, gods, you were so close to him.

His hands shakily rested against your hips, and euphoria burst through his whole body the second that your lips met his own. Midoriya was frozen for a moment from the ecstasy before his body molded against yours. Noses bumping slightly, you pulled away from him with a goofy little smile that had his whole body vibrating.

"Always, Midoriya. Wanna give me a lift to put the star on the tree and...maybe stay over to watch some Western Christmas movies with me?"

Midoriya giggled breathlessly, nodding with enthusiasm as he became slightly emotional, rubbing your noses together.

"I would love that so much!"

Grabbing the star for the tree, Midoriya lifted you within his arms bridal style, the two of you giggling as you both fumbled slightly, and Midoriya jumped up with a 'up we go!' and you effortlessly put the star on top of the tree.

Landing on the ground, Midoriya let you down, and you plugged the tree in and stood back, wrapping an arm around his waist and resting your head against his shoulder.

Midoriya couldn't keep the smile off of his face as he held you close, just admiring the tree with you, and your voice brought him so much joy and comfort as you whispered gently and held him tight.

"Merry Christmas, Midoriya."

"Merry Christmas, (Y/n)."

Chapter Text

Winters at Kaer Morhen were nothing short but relaxing. Winter fell heavily upon the land, the land blanketed in white for miles. The hot air that escaped your lips became visible for a moment, the nipping wind blowing the air away and into the morning.

The sun was just starting to rise, orange rays reflecting off of the snow and creating glistening light before it disappeared behind thick and grey clouds, and you hummed to yourself as you clutched the letter within your hand tightly.

"Looks as though it's going to storm soon."

"Might be best if you stay here for the night then. Looks like it'll be while before you can head out."

Geralt's voice made you jump with fright, whipping your gaze over your shoulder to see him stepping out onto the icy balcony. Geralt shook his shoulders slightly to stave the cold away for a moment, and you made a face at him as his gold eyes lit up with amusement.

"Must you always sneak about like a damn cat? About spooked my soul right out of me."

Geralt chuckled gently, his raspy voice amused as he retorted.

"Don't think that'd be the weirdest thing I've seen as a witcher."

You nodded quietly, murmuring as you turned back to look out at the snowy mountains below.

"You're probably right. As a witcher, you see all kinds of things...seen the world through blood and gore...is it strange that I feel sad that you haven't truly enjoyed living?"

Geralt wasn't sure what had brought your melancholic state up, and truthfully, it made him slightly uncomfortable. Shifting from foot to foot slightly, Geralt took a deep breath and crossed his arms. Choosing not to reply, he instead darted away from the question, asking you.

"What's that you got there? A letter?"

You clutched the paper close to you for a moment before you turned to him, explaining as you held it out for him; Geralt's eyes widening in interest at the neat calligraphy of his name drawn upon the top.

"Around this time of year, my family had a sort of tradition...when winter would be at its peak and we weren't certain if the cold would take us or not, we began to exchange gifts to each other...almost like a memento mori. Winter is so unforgiving..."

Your voice trailed off, and Geralt asked you, his gloved fingers carefully breaking the wax seal that concealed the contents within.

"You're giving me a gift?"

"Well, sort of. I know you don't really care for material items since you're always on the Path, but I figured that perhaps this would be more plausible."

Geralt glanced down, and he could smell your scent wafting from the pages. There also seemed to be perfume lacing the pages, strong but not uncomfortable like the working girls around the cities wore.

When Geralt opened the letter, there was a dried flower that was glued to the paper with beeswax; giving the page a nice floral scent that mixed well with the perfume and your natural aura.

To Geralt of Rivia,

When the Path becomes unsteady, and you are unsure of your purpose: look to the skies as the swallow dives to greet your hand. Though the sun will not always shine, it is ever-present; waiting for your eyes to feast upon the light.

Though your purpose may become obscure during times of strife and hardship, it does not mean that it is meaningless. Though the way that you travel might not always be with good company; know that good company will always await you.

You are a valued friend; and we eagerly await your return when the Path calls to you again.

Geralt could see Ciri's familiar handwriting at the bottom of the page, a slight smile twitching the corner of his lips.

Wash your armor often, you smelly old man.

"I see Ciri didn't want to hold her thoughts back."

Geralt said, and you became embarrassed, wringing your hands together.

"Ah, yes, she asked me if she could add something, but wouldn't let me see what it was before it was already finished. Ciri was very adamant about making sure I didn't throw this draft away and gave it to you."

Geralt chuckled before he closed the letter and placed it within his armor, asking you as he came to stand beside you.

"Is that why your heart was beating so fast? Why you were so nervous? I thought you'd done something wrong...or I had."

"It's cheesy."

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck as Geralt listened.

"Had you been a person that valued material items, this would have been a lot easier...I'm not poetic like Dandelion, though he did have a bit to do with the wording."

"I could tell. You never struck me as the poetic type."

Geralt couldn't refrain from chuckling as you ducked your head and you groaned, looking up at the sky as it began to snow.

"Gods, I know! I just wanted to do something nice for you and give you something that you'd be able to take with you on the Path...Ciri told me that something to put on Roach's saddle or even a charm for your sheath would suffice, but then I had a dilemma of what I would even give to you then."

Geralt raised his brow, asking you as he turned and leaned against the railing of the balcony.

"Truly? I thought this was a tradition of your family's."

Your eyes became wide, and you glanced away from him, mumbling.

"It is, I just also wanted to do something nice. It's basically the same thing."

Geralt decided to stop torturing you, saying as he placed a hand in the air to make you pause and pay attention.

"It's alright, truly. I...really do appreciate this, and you're right: I don't really have much use for anything on the Path besides things that would help me with monster hunting, but that doesn't mean that I don't appreciate them. A letter is just as important to me as an actual gift."

You looked surprised, and you asked him almost earnestly.

"You mean that? You don't think it's...idiotic or anything?"

"Why would I think that?"

You shrugged, and Geralt sighed slightly, shaking his head and rolling his eyes slightly.

"You worry too much."

"You don't worry enough."

You stuck your tongue out at him, and Geralt smirked, leaning down to you and whispering in your ear.

"I'm not the one whose heart is racing and desire is soaking their scent like an animal in heat."

He patted your shoulder teasingly, leaving you to gawk in horror on the balcony as he walked back into the bedroom, calling over his shoulder.

"If you wanted something in return, all you had to do was say something."

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