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Day One: Cinnamon
Frankie Morales (Triple Frontier) x GN!Reader
Length: 727 words
Warnings: This fic is all centred around baking so there is a lot of mention of food, ingredients, cooking, the smell of food cooking, spices and seasonings, and being in a kitchen. It is implied that Reader has good relationships with their friends, family and coworkers and has fond memories of their family as a young child. Reference to recipes as a means of remembrance. Nothing sexually explicit but allusions to sexual activity and arousal, lots of hugging, Frankie burns his tongue on baked goods that have not cooled down. Reader is not physically described in any way, thought it is implied that they are shorter than Frankie and smaller in stature. Please let me know if I have missed anything.
A/N: Day One is here! Thank you to @toomanystoriessolittletime for organising this challenge. I haven't written for Frankie before but as soon as I read this prompt I could imagine him really wanting to eat something baked at home and not wanting to wait until it had cooled. I was taught to bake by family when I was young and I love baking at Christmas.
And if you would like a cinnamon roll recipe rec, I use this one by Binging With Babish
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
You let out a relieved sigh as you sat on one of the kitchen stools. So far today you had been working relentlessly in the kitchen, weighing and mixing, proving and rolling, decorating and photographing. Baking treats for your friends, family and coworkers was one of your favourite holiday traditions you’d built for yourself. You’d been a baker ever since you were young, helping other family members in the kitchen, and as you had grown and formed your own relationships with people, the things you baked had been added to, changed slightly, and taken on their own meanings for you. You’d added to your list of things you baked every year as friendships became closer, coworkers became friends, and some recipes stayed as a loving remembrance.
This year, you had a new addition to the ‘always make’ list. Earlier this year, you’d made cinnamon rolls; no special reason, it had just been a while and you wanted some. Then you had to stop Frankie from eating them all once they were ready. He had watched you make them, intently following everything you were doing and sitting in the kitchen with you while they were in the oven, as he thought the smell was fantastic. When you pulled them out of the oven, he kept trying to take them before they were cool enough. He may or may not have burnt his tongue sneaking one while your head was deep in the fridge, pulling out the ingredients for the next thing to make. It had all been worth it though, once they were properly frosted. You’d presented Frankie with one about an hour later, along with a cup of coffee. His excitement was so much, he smiled that big, beautiful smile of his which showed his dimple and his cute little eye crinkles and warmth to his eyes. He bit into it so quickly that he got frosting on the end of his nose, but the sound he made… that was a groan of pure pleasure that had you flushing hot through your body as something longing pooled in your belly.
You’d made some snarky comment about if you ever had to go away without him you’d bake a batch so he was looked after while you were gone. His big brown eyes softened, and before you knew where you were he had wrapped you in his arms, his warmth surrounding you, the smell of cinnamon and ginger and nutmeg swirling around you both and giving Frankie’s embrace another level of warmth, another level of the familiar. Of home. Frankie’s stubbly beard tickled your ear as he whispered he’d follow you wherever you went. As you closed your eyes and rested your head on his shoulder, you could smell how his plaid shirt had taken on the smell of cinnamon as he’d sat with you all day in the kitchen. That was how you came to associate cinnamon with Frankie forever in your mind, and that was how you knew that this Christmas, you needed to add a recipe especially for him.
The slamming of the front door jolted you from your musings as you heard Frankie’s keys jangling and his voice calling out.
‘Mi amor? What smells so good?’
‘In the kitchen, Frankie,’ you replied. ‘Christmas baking is what smells good!’
Frankie walked into the kitchen, his hair fluffy and tousled from wearing a woolly hat out in the cold. Despite the snow on the ground, he somehow radiated warmth as he stood behind you and enveloped you in a hug.
‘Wait, I know what this is, in the oven, I think,’ Frankie mumbled, his chin resting on your shoulder.
‘Oh yeah? What is it?’ you teased, grinning as you gathered up the utensils.
Frankie inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and furrowing his brow in thought. He was rooted to the spot, and after pause, his eyes snapped open. ‘Mi amor,’ he breathed. ‘Did you add cinnamon rolls to your Christmas baking for me?’
You wriggled around, turning to face him. ‘I may have done,’ you smirked.
Frankie let out a contented sigh. ‘You’re the best,’ he murmured softly.
‘Just don’t burn your tongue again,’ you laughed, sliding your arms around him and leaning your head on his shoulder.
‘No promises,’ he chuckled, resting his forearms on your shoulders. ‘I love you.’
WIP Report - Keeping Myself Organised and Accountable! 05.01.2022
Here I am a week later, actually sticking with updating weekly! And I have progress to report!
Current WIPs:
- Follower Celebration Character Letters
- Follower Celebration Moodboards - these are done! I am making the last little tweaks to one for the requester but otherwise these are all complete. Thank you to @radiowallet, @dincrypt, @pintsizemama and @she-devil-jones for being so supportive and positive while I made these! Thank you all for the lovely feedback and I hope you enjoy!
(these two are my biggest priority at the moment! I haven’t forgotten any of you and I love all the requests and ideas. Life just decided to happen A LOT in December!)
- Christmas Writing Challenge
(I’ve written and posted a week of these and I would like to finish it, though it is going to bleed into January. But hey, better late than never!)
- A Sound Only You Can Hear Part 7
(Need to get some ideas, planning and notes down for this)
Also, I need to reorganise and update my Masterlist (eg some of my Christmas Writing Challenge pieces belong to universes I have written before so need to be cross posted to universe masterlists that don’t exist yet!).
In addition, I also need to give @thesofterside some much needed TLC and updating, which is also on my to do list!
And now for the ideas that are very much in early planning stages that are on the back burner (under the cut as this is very long already):
- Modern Oberyn AU in Paris one shot
- Javi P x Reader ‘His & Their’ perspective one shot
- Din x Reader 'OMG They Were Crewmates’ one shot
- When I Was Your Man (undecided PP character x Reader) one shot
- PP Characters as Roommates Headcannons
- The Thief as SWB and OFC Sommelier series
- Pero Tovar crossover series
- Modern Oberyn as tattoo artist one shot
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Day Two: Mulled Wine
Modern!Pero Tovar (The Great Wall) x GN!Reader
Length: 1122 words
Warnings: This piece begins in the middle of a crowded Christmas Market. Mention of the market being too bright, too loud, too crowded and people bumping into Pero. It's implied Pero isn't comfortable in busy, crowded places. Consumption of alcohol. I have tried to use terms of endearment throughout the piece that are not gendered for the person they describe (eg Pero never calls reader hermoso/hermosa). Pero fussing over Reader to ensure they are okay despite not being very comfortable himself. Pero's life pre-knowing Reader is vague, but there is an implication of poverty, hard times and travelling a lot. Please let me know if I have missed anything.
A/N: Day Two is (finally) here! Thank you to @toomanystoriessolittletime for organising this challenge. I love AUs in writing generally and I love Modern!Pero. I especially love AUs that reference the source material and I really, really recommend Driving Mr. Tovar by @sirowsky if you do too. Her story and world building are incredible; Driving Mr. Tovar definitely inspired me while writing this piece!
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Sometimes, it was like having a uncooperative child with you, rather than your partner. Or perhaps a moody teenager. He was scowling, his head down, arms crossed and a heavy sigh roughly every thirty seconds. He was holding every single shopping bag you had so far, refusing to let you carry anything. It almost made you laugh; he was carrying Christmas-themed shopping bags, dressed in all black, wearing a Santa hat, and looking so incredibly grumpy. But you had to admit, he was trying for you. Someone bumped into him as they passed, earning a scowl from him they never saw. You didn’t see, but you did hear the half sigh, half growl he let out as a result.
‘What’s wrong, hermoso?’ you asked, turning around and doing your best to bite back a laugh.
‘It’s too crowded, mi amor. Too crowded, too loud, too bright. I do not like it,’ he grumbled, though his scowl softened at your words.
You cupped your hand along his jaw, the pad of your thumb just able to reach up and stroke the lower end of his scar. He was trying for you, you could tell. He had put up so many walls for so many years, been through so much, and it had taken a lot to let you in. Now you were in, he showed you his very soul, shared his hopes, his fears and his dreams with you. Once you were in, you had never doubted the love he had for you, and you hoped he knew that he never had to doubt yours. You’d just stood there with him, this one gesture of your hand connecting you both, completely oblivious to the passage of time, completely unaware of anything else as the lights, the crowds, the noise all melted away and it was just you and him.
You felt a little sweep of air against your wrist which brought you out of your train of thought. Pero had leant into your hand, his eyes were closed and his near-perpetual scowl had evaporated. The little sweep of air had been him exhaling, letting himself relax a little. He’d brought his hand up to lay on top of yours against his chin, the warmth of his hand a blessing in this cold. It deepened into your skin, you felt it pooling on the back of your hand and start to flow up your arm, warming the rest of you.
‘Hermoso,’ you murmured, not quite wanting to disturb him. ‘Hermoso, shall we get out of here?’
Pero’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at you, those wonderfully dark eyes seemingly more peaceful. ‘Are you sure, mi amor? You can finish shopping here, I will be fine,’ he squeezed your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours as he let his hand fall to his side.
You smiled softly. Even when he wasn’t happy, he just wanted you to be happy. How you had been so lucky as to find this beautiful man, you didn’t know. ‘I’m almost done, anyway,’ you smiled. ‘But there is a Christmas tradition I could show you, if you wanted? You’ll really like this one.’
Pero raised an eyebrow at you, his usual response when he was interested but also a little suspicious. ‘How do you know I will really like it, mi amor?’ he snorted.
‘Because,’ you grinned mischievously, ‘it involves food and drink.’
Pero’s scowl vanished in an instant, his eyes softening to a warm honey, crinkles forming at his eyes as he smirked at you. ‘You know me so well, mi alma. Lead the way.’
Your fingers still intertwined with Pero’s, you lead him through the crowds until you found what you’d specifically chosen this Christmas market for. You paid the VIP fee and led Pero into a much quieter, much calmer area. You walked through the tavern-style bench and table seating to a mini-cabin with an open front. Inside was a table, with bench seating built into the walls of the cabin either side, so you could sit opposite each other. There were blankets and cushions on the seats, and golden fairy lights filled the ceiling as a candle flickered on the table.
Pero looked much more relaxed as he sat down, taking in the sights around him. He fussed with the blankets and cushions, trying to make you take his so you were warm enough, despite your protests that you were fine. Once he was settled and was satisfied you were warm, he reached for your hand, holding onto you over the table.
One of the bar staff came over, putting a huge pitcher on the table with two mugs. Steam was rising up from the pitcher, and Pero raised a confused eyebrow. You smiled up at the bar staff, ordering something else, but Pero was too preoccupied to notice. He was practically hunched over the pitcher, breathing deeply. His eyes were closed and his furrowed brow returned, but he was deep in thought, not annoyed.
‘Hermoso? What are you doing?’ you asked.
Pero sat back, still deep in thought. His brow was still furrowed and he was staring at the pitcher. You filled each of the two mugs, handing one to Pero. He took it, still deep in thought, and inhaled the smell of it again.
‘Hermoso?’ you asked.
‘What is this, mi amor?’ Pero glanced up at you.
‘It’s mulled wine, hermoso. You said last week you’d never had it so I thought you might like to try it,’ you explained.
‘This is so familiar to me…’ Pero said quietly, almost mumbling to himself.
‘Maybe you have had it before, hermoso? Maybe on your travels and you just didn’t know?’ you asked. You were sure he said he hadn’t had it. But how else would he recognise it?
Pero shook his head. ‘No, mi alma. It was a luxury just to have a coffee, let alone this. I cannot explain it. It is like I know it, but it is almost like I remember it from a dream,’ he then took a deep sip from the mug. ‘Like I had it… a lifetime ago.’
You frowned. He was right. He’d barely had as many coffees as he had fingers on one hand when you first met him, due to his life before. But he was so certain he knew it, so convinced he remembered it from somewhere. He wouldn’t make it up.
‘Do you like it, hermoso?’ you asked, smiling over the top of your mug.
‘I do, mi amor,’ Pero nodded. ‘This is much better than coffee. Can we have this after Christmas?’
You laughed to yourself as Pero downed his mug and poured another. This wonderful man. How lucky you were.
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Day Five: First Snow
Modern!Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x GN!Reader
Length: 681 words
Warnings: This is a modern-day AU where The Force exists. In relation to the show it would be post episode 16, regarding timeline. Din and Reader are in an established relationship and have a nomadic lifestyle. There's angst, Din missing Grogu, Reader hiding discomfort briefly to help Din (he notices and takes care of them anyway). No spice, smut or explicit sex but the piece does end with Din and Reader sharing a bed and this is described. I have written this with using Cyare/Cyar'ika as a gender neutral term. Please let me know if I have missed anything.
A/N: Day Five is (finally) here! Thank you to @toomanystoriessolittletime for organising this challenge. I felt like Grogu would be an obvious choice for first snow, and I tried to make it a little bit different.
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
‘Cyare! Cyar’ika, look!’
You heard Din shouting, and he sounded… excited? You wriggled down from the bunk of your RV, and slipped your shoes on as you rushed outside to join him.
‘Din it’s snowing!’ you exclaimed with glee. ‘It’s beautiful!’
Din didn’t say anything, but gazed at the fluffy white flakes cascading from the sky. It was forming a layer on the ground, and the sky was a dusty purple, the stars trying their best to break through and shine above. You stood still, also gazing at the sky, and you found Din’s hand reaching and squeezing yours. You squeezed back, looking at him out of the corner of your eye, and you saw his eyes brimming, as a tear tracked down his cheek. You stood together in silence; you knew Din would speak when he was ready. You held in your shudders, knowing he would only fuss and ignore whatever he was feeling if he realised you were cold.
‘I’ve never seen actual snowfall before,’ Din murmured after a few minutes.
‘Really?’ you asked, equally as quietly. ‘Never?’
Din shook his head. ‘I’ve seen snow on he ground, when I was in Antarctica, but never falling.’
‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ you smiled, turning your head ever so slightly and looking at him. The tears were still falling.
‘It is,’ Din agreed softly. Then, after a pause, ‘I wish I could have seen this with the kid.’
You squeezed his hand, biting your lip and feeling your eyes well up.
Din turned and looked at you. ‘I… I don’t mean that I’m not glad you’re here, Cyare.’
‘I know, Din, it’s okay. I miss him too,’ your voice warbled as you spoke, the tears spilling over.
You pulled Din toward you, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing him tight. You could feel his heart beating, feel his chest rising and falling as he breathed, the movement becoming more staccato-like as the sobs forced themselves up. Din lifted your chin up, tilting your head and pressing his forehead to yours.
‘I love you, Cyar’ika. Forever,’ Din murmured.
‘Forever, I love you,’ you whispered back.
‘Let’s get you back in,’ Din smiled. ‘It’s cold and we need to get the Crest warm enough.’
Din lead you back into the RV, ensuring the power was on and the van was warm enough. You spent that evening eating dinner, reminiscing about Grogu, legs entangled as you sat on the sofa. Din needed this, to reminisce and talk about Grogu, and he loved how he didn’t need to say it out loud. You just both knew.
Slowly, the tears stopped spilling over, and the warmth returned to his eyes. After a few hours of sharing each other’s company like this, your shoulders started to droop.
‘Let’s get you to bed, Cyare,’ Din murmured. He held you by the hand, lifting you out of your seat, and guided you to the bunk.
You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you woke up in the night. You could have sworn you heard Grogu laughing in the Crest. You could barely see in the darkness, your eyes not having adjusted, but you were sure he was smiling at you somehow, and you would have bet money you heard him babbling away. As your eyes accustomed to the darkness, you realised there was steam coming off your breath, but you didn’t feel cold. You tried to move but couldn’t, and that was when you noticed. Din had, at some point, bundled you in a blanket, then wrapped himself over you, covering himself with a blanket as well. He was so warm, all the time, and he was using that heat to protect you. As you settled again and began to drift off, you looked down at Din’s head, resting on your chest. His messy, curly brown hair made him look angelic and peaceful, his face now serene rather than preoccupied. But more than that, he was smiling in his sleep.
‘Hey, kid,’ he murmured, not waking up. You felt your eyes well up, just before sleep overtook you again.
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Day Three: Christmas Tree Shopping
Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels (Kingsman: The Golden Circle) x GN!Reader (referred to as 'Angel')
Length: 1048 words
Warnings: Throughout this piece there is implication that Reader has lost people close to them, though nothing is discussed specifically or explicity. There is therefore the implication that the act of Christmas Tree Shopping is a means of remembrance. Allusions to grief and loss/bereavement. Purchase and consumption of fancy hot chocolates, mention of getting steak for dinner. Jack is damp and in a towel at one point. I've written Jack referring to Reader as 'Angel' for a term of endearment as I felt it wasn't a gender-specific term. There are also a couple of 'darlin' as well but again I felt this was not gender specific. Reader is not described physically but it can read that they are smaller in stature than Jack. Please let me know if I have missed anything.
A/N: Day Three is (finally) here! Thank you to @toomanystoriessolittletime for organising this challenge. I love the smell of Christmas Trees, and I am very much a sense and emotion person when recalling memories.
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
‘But Angel, you could have any tree you liked from the ranch and you wouldn’t have to pay a dime,’ Jack’s easy cowboy drawl came from your bathroom.
‘It’s not about paying, Jack,’ you sighed softly, trying not to let the exasperation come through your voice. ‘It’s about the tradition.’
‘But we’ll still be choosing a tree together,’ Jack frowned as he sauntered back into the bedroom.
Turning around to face him, you bit the inside of your lip hard to help you concentrate. He’d come back from the bathroom, towel slung low and just about skimming his hips, his dark hair curling with the weight of the water it had taken on. His skin was still wet, a light mist all over. He made it so difficult to concentrate sometimes.
‘I know we would, Jack,’ you said softly. ‘It’s not just choosing the tree, it’s the whole experience. It was - it is - a big deal.’
You started to fiddle with the buttons on your shirt, not quite able to meet his gaze now. Jack recognised the tell, and was in front of you in a split second. Despite how damp he was, he had wrapped you protectively against his chest, his chin resting on top of your head.
‘My Angel,’ he murmured. You felt it more than heard it, his voice was so low and quiet. ‘I’m sorry, this means a lot to you and I should have been more understandin’.’
Jack felt your shoulders relax as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You gently pulled away and looked up at him. ‘It’s okay, cowboy. It’s hard to understand,’ you replied softly as you tightened your hug. ‘Thank you for trying.’
‘How about you show me the tradition and we carry it on?’ Jack smiled at you. He pulled away from you and started getting dressed, leaving you a little damp but not complaining; you buried your nose in your shirt and Jack’s citrusy but also earthy shower gel smell had infused it.
A short while later and you were in Jack’s truck, driving to the Christmas Tree Farm with your festive playlist humming through the truck’s stereo.
‘Can you go into this drive through?’ you asked, glancing over at Jack.
‘Of course, Angel,’ Jack nodded, signaling to pull in.
Once you were at the order point, you braced one hand on the headrest of Jack’s seat and leaned across. As you leaned over, you pressed a kiss to his cheek and tangled the fingers of your other hand with his.
‘Hi! Can I please get two large hot chocolates with cream and chocolate sprinkles, and a shot of vanilla syrup?’ you asked brightly into the speaker.
As you pulled around to pay, Jack mumbled something about you being sweet enough and he wouldn’t want chocolate for a week after this. You giggled to yourself, knowing he would love what was to come. Picking up your order, you passed one to Jack as you sipped yours, letting out a content little hum at the rich chocolate and sweet vanilla swirling together.
Jack raised an eyebrow down at the cup before putting it in the truck’s holder and driving off. ‘It smells amazing, Angel, I’ll give you that,’ he chuckled.
You smiled to yourself, gazing out of the window, looking at all the houses with their Christmas lights but didn’t say anything. As you pulled up to a set of lights, Jack took a sip of his hot chocolate and let out a low groan. ‘Angel, this is delightful,’ he exclaimed, glancing at you then pulling away as the lights changed.
‘Told you, cowboy,’ you winked at him.
The rest of your journey passed in an easy silence as you watched the Christmas lights stream by as Jack drove. The sun was going down but had not quite set yet; as you arrived at the Christmas Tree farm it was a stunning deep blue overhead and lightened as you brought your eyes down to the horizon. There were slashes of purple, indigo, violet and pink as well as the stars starting to appear in the sky. It was beautiful, and as you walked through the entrance to the farm you were greeted with the unmistakable smell of Christmas tree. You inhaled deep lungfuls of it, letting it flow through you and bask in the memories it brought back. You looked up at the sky, your eyes becoming glassy and vision blurred with tears threatening to fall.
‘Angel? You alright my darlin’?’ Jack asked hesitantly, his hand finding yours and intertwining his fingers.
You nodded quickly. ‘I’m okay, Jack. It’s just hard sometimes.’
Jack nodded, somewhere between not knowing what to say and knowing he didn’t really need to say anything at all. He was more than happy to let you lead around the farm, setting the pace, talking about memories of past trips and which tree would actually fit indoors. It had been an emotional start, but toward the end you were excitedly rushing between trees, talking about the smell and the feel, trying to decide which you wanted, all while arm in arm with Jack. When you finally settled on one, Jack insisted on carrying it for you.
With the tree loaded in the truck bed, and you both sat in the cab, Jack smiled at you as he held your hand, stroking the pad of his thumb across your knuckles.
‘Where to now, Angel?’ he asked.
‘Can we… can we go get dinner?’ you asked softly. You felt so bad, Jack had been so wonderful all day but you didn’t want to make him do anything he didn’t want.
‘Of course we can, Angel. What do you want to eat?’ he smiled, starting the truck and beginning to drive off.
‘How does steak sound?’ you grinned at him.
‘Like perfection,’ Jack drawled, virtually salivating there and then.
‘Okay cowboy, you pick where we go,’ you were still grinning.
‘Sure thing, Angel,’ he nodded.
Jack had pulled his hand away from yours when he started up the truck, but you found it again, slipping your fingers in between his and giving a gentle squeeze.
‘Thank you, Jack,’ you said softly, gazing at him.
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Here is the Masterlist for my Christmas 2021 Writing Challenge, designed by the lovely @toomanystoriessolittletime. Everything will be tagged #EllieWritesAtXmas and #CW Christmas so you can block these tags if you don't want to see.
Each piece will have individual content warnings at the start of the post.
More info under the cut!
I'm following the word prompts, but will link the track if it fits well with what I'm writing. I'm making a Christmas Playlist as well which will be full of my favourite Christmas songs.
I have a taglist you can join for this challenge!
The Prompts and their Fics:
Day One: Cinnamon - Frankie Morales x GN!Reader. 727 words.
Day Two: Mulled Wine - Modern!Pero Tovar x GN!Reader. 1122 words
Day Three: Christmas Tree Shopping - Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels x GN!Reader. 1048 words
Day Four: Hot Chocolate - Modern!Oberyn Martell x GN!Reader. 1724 words
Day Five: First Snow - Modern!Din Djarin x GN!Reader. 681 words
Day Six: Fireplace - Pero Tovar x OFC Maria (part of the Going Home Universe) 2033 words
Day Seven: Christmas Markets - Maxwell Lord x Female!OFC (part of the Apartment 9 Universe). 1285 words
Day Eight: Snowed In - Frankie Morales x GN!Reader (thank you @pagannightwitch for the inspo)
Day Nine: Holiday Baking - Modern!Din Djarin x Modern!Grogu x GN!Reader
Day Ten: Wrapping Presents - Steve Harrington x GN!Reader (part of The Arcade Universe)
Day Eleven: Grand Gestures - Maxwell Lord x Unnamed OFC (part of the Apartment 9 Universe)
Day Twelve: Building A Snowman - Grogu x GN!Reader
Day Thirteen: Decorating - Poe Dameron (part of Bravery: A Star Wars AU)
Day Fourteen: Silly Dancing - Marcus Moreno x Missy Moreno
Day Fifteen: Gift Shopping - Din Djarin x Grogu x GN!Reader (thank you @pagannightwitch for the idea!)
Day Sixteen: Blackout - Steve Harrington x GN!Reader (part of The Arcade Universe)
Day Seventeen: Christmas Lights - Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels x GN!Reader
Day Eighteen: Too Much Eggnog - Modern!Pero Tovar x GN!Reader
Day Nineteen: Christmas Movie - Frankie Morales x GN!Reader
Day Twenty: Mistletoe - Officer!Din Djarin x Female!Force Sensitive!OC (part of The Diner Universe)
Day Twenty One: Naughty or Nice - Santiago Garcia x GN!Reader
Day Twenty Two: Reunited - Marcus Pike x GN!Reader
Day Twenty Three: Christmas Cards - Officer!GN!OC (part of Bravery: A Star Wars AU)
Day Twenty Four: Snuggles - Modern!Pero Tovar x GN!Reader
Day Twenty Five: Presents - Javier Peña x GN!Reader
Day Twenty Six: Food Coma - Modern!Pero Tovar x GN!Reader
Day Twenty Seven: Surprise Trip - Jim Hopper x Female!Mum!Reader (part of The Arcade Universe)
Day Twenty Eight: Long Distance - Santiago Garcia x GN!Reader
Day Twenty Nine: Confessions - Poe Dameron x Officer!GN!OC (part of Bravery: A Star Wars AU)
Day Thirty: Night Out - PoliceOfficer!Cobb Vanth (Part of The Diner Universe)
Day Thirty One: New Year's Kiss - Modern!Oberyn Martell x GN!Reader (part of The Prince Universe)
Thank you everyone who has submitted a form for my follower celebration - I will be looking at these hopefully over next week.
I saw Spider-Man: No Way Home on Wednesday night and it was incredible.
I miss you all, and love you more.
I really appreciate all the boops.
It’s Christmas in less than a week and I have no idea how that happened.
I love my job, though it’s taken over somewhat this week.
I am going to try my best to catch up with the Christmas Writing Challenge before December is over!
I still have no confirmed Christmas plans but no matter what happens I will be buying myself a bottle of Bailey’s. Whether I share it or not remains to be seen.
COVID has made me need to cancel plans with my oldest friend and I am sad the universe will not let us celebrate Keanu.
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Day Seven: Christmas Markets
Maxwell Lord (WW84) x Unnamed OFC Part of the Apartment 9 Universe
Length: 1285 words
Warnings: OFC is currently unnamed. The main story of this piece is Alistair has got separated from Max while at a Christmas Market. Alistair is described as being upset and crying. This exists as part of the Apartment 9 universe and takes place during the Apartment 9 story, just after OFC passes Max with Alistair at the elevator but before the next time when reader is introduced formally to him. As such Alistair is never referred to by name as OFC doesn't know it. Also OFC has a good relationship with her nuclear family but there is mention of not being able to see them over Christmas. Mention and description of a busy, crowded market. Mention but no consumption of alcohol. Max understandably anxious. Please let me know if I have missed anything.
A/N: Day Seven is (finally) here! Thank you to @toomanystoriessolittletime for organising this challenge. Apartment 9 was the first Writer Wednesday submission I did and I loved this Max and OFC and wanted to revisit them. They may be back!
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
You weren’t particularly keen on going to the Christmas Market a couple of blocks from your apartment, but your colleague had mentioned it was a good one and worth going. Sadly a last minute shift change meant you couldn’t go together, so you decided to go by yourself on the day you’d originally planned. It was probably better this way; you could take as much (or knowing you, as little) time as you wanted, pick up gifts for a few people and get a coffee at Maria’s afterward, retreating to the sanctuary of your apartment, away from the mayhem that was weekend Christmas shopping in the city. It didn’t help that it was also cold; wind whipping between the skyscrapers that made up the city skyline, and the sidewalk slick with yesterday’s rainfall. It was cloudy, dreary, and the sky seemed darker than it should be in the early afternoon. Still, you decided to go, knowing that you would probably get a decent amount of Christmas shopping done, and the sooner it was done, the better. Rushing around stores after work in December was something you had done when you first moved to the city, and you firmly decided never again.
Wrapping yourself in your warmest coat and scarf, you stepped into the elevator and went down to the ground floor. You were in there alone; you hadn’t seen Max and his son since your very rushed encounter a day or two ago. Maybe Max had been in a hurry to get him back to his mom, or maybe they had gone away for the weekend. Your heart sank a little at the thought that maybe Max had taken his son for a weekend away because he wouldn’t see him at all over Christmas. Girl, take a breath. You had no idea that was the case and you were letting your imagination run away with you. Or… was it that you couldn’t bear the thought of Max being alone on Christmas? Or did you kinda sorta hope that Max would reveal himself to be alone on Christmas, so you could offer to keep him company? You were definitely getting ahead of yourself, you thought, as you left the elevator and walked out of the building and down the street to the Christmas Market. It was already bustling with people, with bright lights, music playing and clouds of steam shooting up into the air as people bought mulled wine and hot cider, warming their hands as they wrapped them around the mugs.
You started wandering around the mini cabins, looking at the different gifts available. There were some beautiful carved candles you could send to your mom, and perhaps a beer tankard for your dad. You weren’t too sure on your older brother and little sister yet; you needed to get something good as they would be sad you couldn’t be there over Christmas. Maybe something to eat they could share? Some Christmas cookies and then something each? Your brother might appreciate a tankard, or perhaps a kit to make his own mulled wine. Your sister was a bit more tricky, but she might like the painted tealight holders. She was really into doing cute things with her bedroom décor at the moment, and so this might be the thing for her side table by the bed or on her shelves. You were so lost in thought over what to do, you almost didn’t notice something bump into your… knee? You stopped still, thinking someone had maybe brought their dog with them, when you looked down and saw a young boy that you recognised. He was sniffling and choking back sobs, and looked up at you with big scared eyes. You knelt down in front of him.
‘Hey kid, are you okay?’ you asked softly.
‘I… I lost my dad…’ he mumbled, between stifled sobs.
‘I’m sorry kid,’ you said, trying to keep your voice calm and soft. You were 90% sure this was Max’s son, from the brief encounter you had at the lift. ‘But I’ll help you find him, okay? I think I know your dad, I think we saw each other yesterday maybe? Or the day before? You were going in the elevator and I came out?’
The boy sniffed and nodded slowly. ‘My dad says you live in the same building as him?’
You smiled. ‘I do! Let’s find him together, yeah?’ You offered your hand to him and he was hesitant at first, but then held on to yours as you led him through the market. It was still busy, the waning daylight not a deterrent for the majority of people. You were scanning the crowd, looking for that familiar floppy blondish-brownish hair, those beautiful brown eyes… Girl. Stop it. You are looking for this kid’s dad. Focus.
‘Do you remember where you were when you lost your dad?’ you asked as you looked down at Max’s son.
He was still sniffling, but a little frown crossed his face. ‘I’m… I’m not sure,’ he replied, a wail threatening in his voice.
‘It’s okay buddy, don’t worry,’ you quickly reassured him. ‘Do you remember what the stalls were selling maybe?’
‘Ummm…. Cheese, I think? Dad said he wondered if he could try some,’ the kid said. He was clearly trying his hardest to remember, his brow furrowed again and trying to think.
‘Okay that’s great! We can head to the cheese and keep looking out for him while we walk,’ you smiled brightly, heading toward the cheese cabin.
You were constantly scanning the crowd as you walked, and after a couple of minutes you saw that familiar blondish-brownish hair. Max was frantically looking around, looking incredibly worried. He kept running his hand through his hair and screwing his eyes shut. He was pivoting on the spot, like he wasn’t sure what direction to walk in. You kept focused on him, and after a few seconds caught his eye and waved. He began to rush over to you, pushing through people and as he got to you, he started talking so fast you could barely make out what he was saying.
‘I can’t… I can’t find…’ was all you managed to decipher.
‘Max, Max it’s okay,’ you rested your free hand on his shoulder as you nodded down to your left side. Max’s eyes followed you gaze and in an instant he had picked up his son and was squeezing him tight. He screwed his eyes shut.
‘Are you okay?’ Max asked his son, who nodded. Max carefully lowered him to the ground and then turned back to you, his eyes glassy.
‘Thank you so much,’ Max smiled warmly. He gave your upper arm a friendly squeeze, and then his arm fell to his side, not really sure what else to do.
‘You’re welcome,’ you smiled. ‘I’m glad I was in the right place to help out.’
‘I can’t thank you enough,’ Max looked at you with those big brown eyes, soft, warm, and full of the thanks he was trying to give. He looked down at his son. ‘Shall we get you home, buddy? You’ve had quite the ordeal today.’
Max’s son nodded, letting out a little yawn.
‘What do you say?’ Max asked him.
‘Thank you for helping me find my dad,’ he smiled.
‘No problem buddy,’ you smiled back. ‘I’ll see you soon?’ you asked Max.
‘I’m sure you’ll hold the door to the elevator soon,’ Max smiled over his shoulder, leading his son out of the market.
Once he had turned back around, you felt heat rushing to your cheeks, but you also couldn’t stop smiling. Max had been listening as he got in the elevator the other day.
