Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Ugh, I thought snow days were supposed to mean no work. This isn’t what I signed up for.”

You once again rolled your eyes at Stu’s complaints, seated cozily on his front steps. For the past hour, he had been shovelling away at his driveway, stopping only to complain or try and warm his nearly frozen hands. It was a bit of a surprise that he hadn’t asked for help yet, even though you had offered. Billy on the other hand, who stood on the porch behind you, hadn’t offered at all. Not that it was surprising. None of you were too fond of the cold.

“I’m just saying, I did offer to bring my shovel and help out,” You called out to Stu, only for him to wave you off in response. Whatever he was determined to prove wasn’t very clear, but he was certainly doing something. Though it was clear that with as much snow fall as the town got this year and as large as Stu’s driveway was, there was no way he’d be done within the next hour.

An amused scoff left Billy as he crouched down to your level. “Think he’d notice if we just went inside?” He asked quietly, a sly smirk on his face. All you did was smack his chest in return, a scolding expression on your face. It got you a slight chuckle in response as Billy adjusted slightly and sat on the step above yours, still slightly towering over you. “Come on, it’s his driveway. I don’t think he’d mind if we stepped inside for a bit.”

“I heard that!” Stu called out, as he got just a little bit closer to the house. Despite all the years the three of you had lived in Woodsboro, Stu’s tolerance of snow never got better. Nor his did technique for shovelling, if his obvious struggling was anything to go by. It was painful to watch, to say the least. Besides for Billy, who still seemed like he was trying not to laugh.

You leaned forward slightly, putting your hands in your pockets, as you looked up at the sky. Little flurries of snow had been sprinkling down for the past few hours, not enough to really make a huge difference to the surrounding snow. But now, it started to come down much thicker than before, the patterns of some snowflakes more visible than just the flurries. It was only a matter of time before Stu noticed and either threw in the towel or tried to push it onto you or Billy.

A sigh left your chilled lips as you leaned back, only for Billy to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pull you in slightly. He wasn’t all that much warmer than you, even you could tell he was shivering, but it was better than nothing. Leaning against Billy, you started to wipe away the snowflakes that were starting to coat you.

The air was frigid against your hands, and it was that moment that you regretted not wearing or even bringing gloves. You really should’ve expected Stu to take awhile again like the last few years. By now, it was probably noon already. Not exactly how you wanted to spend the first day in probably a longer string of snow days. At the very least you hoped you wouldn’t have to watch Stu try and shovel snow for a few hours again.

Neither did Billy, judging by how he sat up suddenly. “Hey Stu,” He yelled out, grabbing the other’s attention, “Put your back into it, why don’t you? We’re freezing out here!” A slight smirk appeared on his face as Stu made a gesture at him, before throwing a bit more snow over his shoulder. All you could do was scoff, lightly jabbing your elbow into Billy’s side.

“Be nice to him. He’s the one who controls whether or not we get beer tonight,” You mumbled to him, earning an amused huff in response. It took some self discipline not to elbow Billy again as you looked out to the driveway. The snow was already started to pile up again, covering up Stu’s many bootprints in the process.

A sudden gust of wind blew several snowflakes right at you two, into your face and right into your eyes. It left you sputtering for a moment as you tried to wipe them away, only for the crunching of snow to get your attention. Seemed like Stu finally had enough.

The wind blew in another direction after a moment, just as he reached the stairs. He dropped the snow shovel at Billy’s feet, immediately shoving his hands into his coat pockets, “Alright, your turn.”

A mixture of confusion and annoyance crossed Billy’s face as he looked up at Stu, his hand squeezing your shoulder ever so slightly. It was obvious he didn’t want to have to shovel, especially considering it wasn’t even his driveway. “Why do you want me to do it?” He asked, wearing a blank look as he wiped snow from his face. It was clear he was going to try and figure out some excuse that rivalled Stu’s. But by the slight grin on his face, it was obvious Stu had something planned.

“Well, you don’t wanna look like a wimp while a cute boy is watching, do you?” He asked, his grin looking a little more devious as he gestured to you. Ah, of course Stu was going to use you to take a break. You should’ve seen it coming. It did bring a little bit of an amused smile to your face, though you would’nt have said anything. This was between them after all.

For just a moment, Billy and Stu stared at each other, as if they were having a silent conversation. Or an argument. Another moment passed before Billy let out an annoyed sigh, slightly scowling as he let go of you and stood up. “Yea yea, whatever you say,” He said, grabbing the shovel and walking the length of the driveway.

He was barely a few steps away when Stu plopped down right in front of you, a few steps down, before immediately leaning against you. It was obious what he wanted, and as much as you just wanted to push away anything remotley cold, you caved.

It took a moment of getting yourself to uncurl your body before Stu could comfortably lay between your legs and against your chest. He let out a pleased sigh as you wrapped your arms around his frozen form. Now both of you were freezing, but at least Stu seemed a little less grumpy. “You’re like a damn popsicle,” You grumbled, resting your chin on the top of his head.

“And yet I feel so cozy.” All you could do was roll your eyes at Stu, while he simply grinned up at you, looking oh so pleased with himself. In an attempt to warm his face, he tried to snuggle into your arms, despite the fact you were only slightly covered in less snow. It did little good, but you suspected that Stu didn’t really care if it helped or not. He just seemed pleased to not be shovelling anymore.

A soft sigh left your lips, chilling your lungs as you watched your breath float around for a moment. Your eyes eventually glanced back up and at the driveway. Just as you expected, Billy was doing a much better job at shovelling up the snow, even clearing some of the fresh blanket. Maybe it wouldn’t take another hour or two now at that pace.

Just as Billy lobbed a bit more snow to the side, Stu leaned his head up slightly, looking out at the driveway. He let out a low, impressed whistle at the progress, “Man, I’ll have to get you to do this tomorrow!” He called out, cupping a hand around his mouth to project his voice further. All he got in return was a scowl, but that just simply made him laugh. “Come on, you’re just so good at it! Help a guy out!”

“In your dreams,” Billy called back, turning away from the porch to continue shovelling. It was a little clear that he wasn’t too fond of watching you and Stu be all cozy on the steps. Even if you were just freezing your ass off.

For a moment, all that filled the air was the whipping wind and the sound of snow being broken apart. It was almost peaceful, despite the chill in your bones. Maybe if you weren’t being pelted by snowflakes, things would feel a lot more comfortable. You let out another sigh, wrapping your arms just a little tighter around Stu as you closed your eyes. He seemed pleased enough by the action, letting out a slight laugh as he basked in what warmth you did have to spare.

Of course, you didn’t expect such peace to last very long. Right when it seemed like Stu would be fine with simply just sitting there until Billy finished, he played into your expectations exactly. A light tapping grabbed your attention, bringout you out of the moment, and looking down. Ever the jokester, Stu had a wide grin plastered on his face, a bit of deviousness in his eyes. At first, you wanted to shut him down on whatever he was secretly cooking up. But at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel curious as to what the hell had him looking so amused.

Just as you were about to ask, Stu pressed a frozen finger to your lips, quietly shushing you. “Watch this,” He mouthed, before sitting up and pulling away from your hold. Dread immediately filled you as you watched him pick up just enough snow and start packing it together. While you wanted to warn Billy, you couldn’t deny that the methaphorical car crash that was about to happen in front of you would be a little funny.

So you kept your mouth shut and watched as Stu reeled back his arm, aimed, and threw it as hard as he could. Just as you expected, it nailed Billy square in the back of the head. You nearly gasped, seeing just how hard it actually hit him. If he didn’t decide to kill Stu after that, he certainly thought about it.

What you didn’t exactly anticipate was for Billy to just drop the shovel to the ground. It worried you for just a moment, before you saw him bend down and start gathering snow in his hands. “Oooh, you gonna fight back?” Stu laughed, leaning back against your chest. But Billy didn’t respond this time, packing the fresher snow tightly in his hands. You braced yourself, knowing it was going to hit Stu hard.

But as Billy stood up and turned, a new sense of dread filled you. He had murder in his eyes, to say the least. You already knew Stu was going to be down for the count after this. Though something seemed wrong, as the snowball came flying towards you two. It didn’t look like it was angled down far enough.

You didn’t have enough time to process that information as the tightly packed snowball split across your face, practically knocking you against the porch. It felt like your ears were ringing for just a moment, the snow in your eyes blinding you. When you sat up again and managed to brush most of the snow away, you saw the expressions on Billy and Stu’s faces. One of shock and the other of pure amusement. You, on the other hand, felt nothing but a need for revenge.

Stu allowed you to easily stand from your spot on the stairs, watching intently as you started to scoop up snow. Then, as you began your own snowballs, you began sprinting at Billy. Just like you thought, he started running, trying his hardest to dodge every bit of snow you threw his way. Considering the snow was up to his calves, he wasn’t able to run or doge very well, easily being pelted by everything you threw.

“Kill him, babe!” Stu called from the porch steps, laughing his ass off the entire time. Sure your lungs burned and your hands felt frozen, but messing around, covering Billy in as much snow as you could, it was almost fun. Maybe the day wouldn’t be as bad.

Chapter Text

A sweet and pleasantly warm smell wafted all throughout your house, light in the air yet heavier towards the kitchen. It was the one time of year that you actually took a few days to simply bake. Yesterday, you went and did all of your shopping, buying enough ingredients to make several types this year. Tomorrow, you already had a few different ones planned for your arrangments. But today, you had already been at it for a little over two hours, working on exactly one type of cookie.

To say you looked like a mess would’ve been an understatement. Your pants and apron were more flour than thread, your hair was slicked back with sweat from being in a hot kitchen for way too long. It always felt worth it though, as you once again opened the hot oven to pull out yet another full tray.

The heat always hit you first, making your eyes and nose burn, before the pleasant scent of vanilla followed. You pulled out two trays from the oven, setting them on the stove top, before putting in two more trays. By the time you actually had everything baked, your kitchen would be covered in cookies. The smell would definitely stick for a while, no doubt about that.

For just a moment, you felt quite accomplished. You had been looking for an excuse to try making Linzer cookies, and what better time than the holidays? Though it seemed silly, you were especially proud you had a real excuse to use that tiny, snowflake cookie cutter you’ve had for years. You felt ever so slightly giddy, already imaging how this would all look. With everything you had planned, there was no doubt that your friends and family would have plenty to enjoy. It paid to be the only baker you really knew.

As you turned to check the already cooled trays you had on your kitchen island, a shiver ran down your spine. There was no one else that it could be besides your second shadow. A slight smile danced across your lips as you put your pot holders to the side.

“Finally got hungry, Michael?” You asked, knowing fully well you wouldn’t get a response. As if you backed into a wall, a solid form pressed against your back. Just out of your periphreal, you saw just a glimpse of Michael, his pale mask ever present. Not like you really expected anything else.

“Actually, I was going to go looking for you in a moment. Thought you wouldn’t mind being my taste tester for these when I finally start assembling.”

A slight huff met your ears, one of the only responses Michael would ever give you on any given day. It was enough though, just a slight acknowledgement to confirm he actually was listening to you, or if he agreed with you. If he didn’t want to try any of your baking well, you two wouldn’t have been speaking in the first place. Or at the very least, you wouldn’t have been talking at him in the first place.

You watched as his hands came up and gripped the counter, practically caging you in as he leaned his head in further. It was clear he was trying to get a better look at your work. Probably didn’t even understand why some of the cookies had holes and others didn’t. While it was most likely unnecessary to explain what exactly you were making, you took the opprotunity to speak without distruption, “They’re Linzer cookies. Basically, I put jam on one of the whole cookies, before putting one of the cookies with a snowflake cut out on that. You’re supposed to add powdered sugar, but I don’t want all the other cookies to get covered so I’m just ignoring that step.”

Even if Michael wasn’t a very agreeable man, and was quite difficult to deal with most of the time, at least he acted like he was listening. It was nice, being able to talk to someone other than yourself. With him, there was the guarentee that he wouldn’t interrupt you with his own words. Sure, Michael could easily shut you up, but it seemed like he was playing nice that day. Or had his eyes on something else.

Before you realised what he was actually doing, Michael had suddenly snatched up one of the whole cookies. “Wait, hold on, let me at least prepare it before you-” Your words fell on deaf ears as he pulled his mask just enough and took a bite. The crisp and satisfying snap that followed nearly distracted you from what just happened. Nearly.

An annoyed scowl crossed your face as you turned to look at him. “Can’t you wait for a few minutes next time? Impatient…” You grumbled, lightly smacking his chest. It didn’t actually do anything to him. And though you couldn’t see his eyes, you could tell just by Michael’s slight nseer that he was glaring at you. If there was even a lick of actual anger, it obviously didn’t stick as he took another bite of the cookie, making an effort to chew slowly. Of course he would mess with you over this.

“At least eat one of the snowflakes too,” You sighed, looking down at the trays in front of you. If you wanted to have an even amount left for this batch, you’d need to make at least one cookie with the jam. But you also wanted to try one, so you’d need to make three to keep it even. As if Michael would complain about getting more sweets for the night.

“Hey, let me get to the fridge real quick to grab the jam. Probably going to open up a window too, since it’s so hot in here,” You saw how his hands gripped onto the counter just a little harder, his gaze burning into you as if he were offended that you’d try and boss him around. It was clear that if Michael didn’t want you to move, then you wouldn’t be movivng. But you did offer something he wanted, which gave you a little bit of an edge. At this point, it sort of felt like he was just trying to intimidate you for the hell of it. If that was the case, well, you’d never exactly know.

After a moment frustrated silence, Michael relented and let you slip away with a huff. It was arguably one of the nicest things he could tolerate doing, though the bar was pretty low considering he was simply allowing you to move around in your own home.

You took your moment of freedom to quickly open the window above the sink, shivering slightly at a bout wind that blew some snowflakes in. At the very least, the wind and snow would certainly cool down your kitchen just a little bit. Now you just had to get out the jam before Michael decided to just simply eat the cookies plain. Glancing over, you noticed as he bit into one of the snowflake cookies. Good. He was listening to you for once.

The jam in the fridge has long since cooled after you originally put it in there, a thin sheet of cling wrap covering the top of the large bowl. A look of satisfaction crossed your face as you grabbed out the bowl and closed the fridge with your foot. You went simple for your first time making Linzer cookies, opting to go with a classic raspberry jam like the recipies usually called for. If you didn’t have enough of the jam for all the cookies you had made, then maybe you’d experiment with a different flavour.

That was something you’d think about if it came to it though, and you pushed back the possibility of needing more jam than you already had. “Alright, prepare to love me forever,” You joked as you set the bowl down on the kitchen island. A blank stare was all you got in return, which was all you really expected. You didn’t let it slow down your momentum though as you grabbed one of your silicone spatulas from a drawer.

As soon as you lifted the cling wrap from the bowl, the tangy sweetness immediately hit your nose. It blended quite nicely with the warm, almost toasted vanilla in the air, making your mouth water just slightly. Seemed like you weren’t the only one who liked the smell, as Michael was now staring intently at you, his breathing a little heavier in the mask. You gave him a knowing look as you spread just a bit of jam on one cookie, before putting a snowflake cookie on top. Surprsingly, it was… easy. Baking shows really made them seem much more complicated.

You set the completed Linzer cookie down on the tray, scoffing slightly as Michael immediately picked it up and started almost appraising it. As you picked up another whole cookie and spread a bit of jam on that one, he was already taking a bite. The only indicator that you did good hadn’t come yet, so you simply finished another cookie, before starting a third, and for now final one. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t just a little bit nervous. Sure, you baked before and he seemed to tolerate it enough to take most of whatever you made, but it always made your pulse quicken when he didn’t outright like them.

It was maddening, watching him slowly chew just that one bite as you finished another cookie. You were already putting the cling wrap back on the bowl by the time he swallowed. Yet still nothing.

“Do you hate it or..?” You trailed off, not exactly wanting to know the answer to that question just yet. For a moment, you actually believed that maybe he genuinely didn’t like it. It would be clear if he didn’t. Michael would silently finish what he started, before walking away to who knows where within the house. You watched as he took another bite in silence, completely sure that he hated something you were going to spend a lot more time on, before he let out a slight huff. Of course he was purposely messing with you again. Always keeping you on your toes and your ego in check.

Yet again did you scowl, shaking your head as you picked up one of the finished cookies. You didn’t needto look so closely at it, immediately taking a bite and practically melting at the taste. A job well done if you had any say in it. “Yea, I’m making these again,” You spoke after a moment, watching as Michael slowly snatched the other one, as if you weren’t watching the entire time.

The two of you ate in complete silence, the air growing warm as the dough in the oven got closer to being done. You were happy with your choice this year, and it seemed Michael was too. As you eyed the unfinished batches, a slight temptation rose. Maybe you could set a few aside and try the powdered sugar this year.

Chapter Text

December was, like to most people, the busiest part of the year for you. Despite being inside all day, there were indeed things to do. Chores, first and foremost, did take up most of your day. Chopping firewood had, thankfully, been taken off of that list by Jason, as it got too cold for you to be out for so long on most days. But that still left you with plenty to do, like cleaning, patching up clothes and old blankets, making simple building repairs around the camp, clearing snow, and making sure your main living area still had clean water.

It was after another night of harsh snow did you once again find yourself shovelling, and looking out upon the camp. Crystal Lake always had a certain charm to it, and the snow definitely helped, but there was something about it. The absence of geenery literally left the camp looking dead. Sure, having a personal winter wonderland every morning was nice, but not when the colour you got so used to had been completely drained. You wanted to do something about it, but had no ideas, nor really any time.

So you finished your shovelling, sweeped away any stray snow that made its way onto the porches, and went about the rest of your day. But every time you went outside, that was all you could think about. It annoyed you greatly, and after about a week, you started thinking about ways to change it.

It was the holiday season, but the idea of putting up plastic decorations around the camp didn’t sit right. While you could’ve just looked through the storage building for some cheap ribbon, you didn’t want the place to look tacky. So next came a self imposed chore that would take up what little free time you had left. Finding things out in the surrounding woods and figuring out how to make decorations from them. Most of what you could find were pine cones that animals hadn’t touched, along with the occasional broken off pine branch. You certainly were left with plenty of ideas.

When the nights had slowed down, and there was finally not much to do, you started your little pet project. It wasn’t hard, making paint for the pine cones that wouldn’t harm any animals, though you did find yourself contemplating food colouring for a lot longer than you expected. There were already brushes and old paint palettes from before the camp shut down, so the job was easier.

At first, you just experimented with how a food-based paint worked. It applied much easier than you expected, despite being completely edible and getting painted onto pine cones. It didn’t take very long for you to figure out how to make ornaments in such an unorthodox way. Nor did it take long for Jason to notice what you were up to. His expressions were always hidden behind that mask of his, but you could see the look in his eyes. Confusion with a slight amount of judgement.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. It’s so sad outside, seeing nothing but snow and dead trees. I just wanted to add a little bit of colour around here,” You explained as you took one of the finished and dried pine cone ornaments and placed it in Jason’s hands. It still always surprised you how gentle he could be when he wanted to be. The way he held the pine cone reminded you of the way one would hold a baby bird.

It always put a smile on your face, seeing such a rare side of Jason, especially when he fought so hard to protect the land. You almost couldn’t believe that such a brutal man could be so tender with pine cones of all things. “I’m going to hang them up when I’m done painting them all. Hopefully I’ll have enough time and resources to decorate everywhere,” Your words quickly grabbed his attention again, and you noticed a little bit of intrigue in his eyes.

Without much more hindrance, he let you get back to painting, still holding onto the pine cone as if it were something precious. You couldn’t help but beam, taking much more care on the pine cone in your hands. While you couldn’t tell if Jason actually liked the idea of decorating the camp, he certainly didn’t mind the work you were putting in for it. At the very least, you had something to do to wind down after a long day.

You didn’t actually see that particular pine cone again, but it seemed like Jason was much more inclined to help you out on your little project. Every night, when you came back to continue your crafting, there would be new stuff. Flimsy and flexible branches, acorns and walnut casings, and of course, more pine cones. You only really had ideas for the pine cones, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about the possibilities.

Though it took you much longer than you would’ve liked to come up with an idea. Every time you stepped back inside and saw that growing box of foraged goods, you felt a little frustrated. Jason obviously had some sort of trust that you would be able to create something out of the forest he frequented every day. And the fact that your creativity hadn’t kicked in yet had started to frustrate you.

By the time you had finished painting ornaments for the camp, it was just a few days til Christmas. You didn’t have much time, and certainly didn’t want to just waste the materials that Jason had clearly taken the time to carefuly pick out. But you still couldn’t think of anything.

Rather than worry while you had no ideas, you simply went about your usual day. Despite feeling colder, you were still determined to start decorating that day. Using twine you had found a long while ago, you had created a sort of way to attach the pine cones to the buildings. In all honestly, it did look a little silly, especially with some of the colours you chose. But you were determined to bring back some of that colour you missed so much.

You specifically made sure to tie them up, not wanting it to be a hassle when it came time to take things down. Or if Jason didn’t like it and wanted them down sooner.

Because of the cold, the decorating felt like it was taking hours. And while you would’ve normally stepped back inside to warm up a bit, you wanted to get everything done before the sun started setting. Though it was mainly your goal to get things done before Jason came back for the night. Your hands were frozen, and you could barely breathe with how much your lungs stunbg from the cold. But by the time the sky turned orange, you were done.

Even if it did look silly after all you did, a sense of pride filled you as you stared at all the buildings. Pops of red and green, blues and purples, any colours you could easily get your hands on dotted around the scenery. They stood out against the old, oaky browns and the blinding white snow, like a true holiday scene. Maybe if you had more time, you could’ve come up with better decorations. But looking at all of your hardwork just made you excited to do it again one year.

It wasn’t long into your admiring that you felt the chill in your bones, and the need to get inside became overwhelming. So you simply didn’t fight it, and rushed back to the particular building you called home. You took special care with the decorations there, only choosing the best of your ornaments. It was a shame the door remained bare.

You didn’t even step fully inside of the building before it hit you. All of those foraged supplies that Jason had brought to you, it would’ve been perfect for a wreath. The gears were already turning, and before you could think to rest, you already dragged the box over in front of the fireplace and sat down.

Even with your frozen hands, you were determined to get this wreath started. It wasn’t as difficult as you anticipated, taking a long, flexible twig and wrapping it around itself. It was almost like making flower necklaces, just more sticky from the pine twigs that it had been sitting with. It didn’t take long for you to get into a rhythm, especially as you started to weave in the pine twigs, which thankfully hadn’t lost their abundance of needles yet.

Just as you were about done with your weaving, the front door opened, completely chilling your back for a moment. It was Jason, judging by the sound of his boots, which had abruptly stopped. The chill that poured in didn’t go away, and it became clearer that he was holding the door open. As happy as you were for him to come back home after a long day of not seeing him, the chill in your bones simply wasn’t worth it.

“Are you coming in?” You asked, shivering slightly as you looked over your shoulder. There he was, standing tall and broad in the doorway, turned away from you just enough to look out at the camp comfortably. While Jason was a very quiet man, and the mask kept his face stoic, there were little things in his behaviour that told you what exactly he was thinking. The way his body seemed frozen as he looked back out at the scenery, his fists clenching and unclenching, yet light in his breathing.

There wasn’t one specific thing he seemed to be experiencing as he took in your decorations. It wasn’t very common that Jason acted conflicted like that. For a moment, you were worried that maybe he genuinely hated your work, and wanted to just rip down everything. But no. He probably would’ve already if he hated it. Or at the very least, wouldn’t have gifted you more pine cones to work with.

“Do you like it?” That seemed to get his attention again, and he quickly turned back towards you, before walking in and closing the door behind him. Well, at least he didn’t hate it. And at least you wouldn’t continue freezing.

You immediately got back to filling out the wreath as Jason stepped closer and closer, his bootsteps heavy against the wooden floor. Then, he sat behind you, towering over your form as he put his chin on your shoulder. The chill that came off of him was enough to make you shiver, but still, you relaxed into his chest and continued your weaving. “All I need is to add those acorns and walnut shells you found me before I’m done,” You explained, allowing him to lean a little closer to look.

A hum of approval left his chest, before he gently ran his fingers over the needles. As if he remembered something, Jason suddenly shoved his hand into his jacket pocket, pulling out three wild pansies. It took you by surprise. You knew that pansies were resilient little flowers, but these looked especially fresh. He must have dug around for these.

Gently as you could, you took the pansies from his hand, observing them for a moment, before you smiled. “These will work perfectly,” You said as you already started to weave the flowers into the wreath. All you got from Jason was a pleased sigh as he nodded, wrapping his arms around you and simply watching. The pansies worked beautifully against the dark greens and soft browns, the purples and yellows giving that pop it needed.

You were excited to hang this on the door. Jason seemed to have the same sentiment.

Chapter Text

“Come on, Harry. Just one dance? No one else is here, so you don’t have anything to worry about.”

Despite your constant reassurances, Harry still refused to budge on giving you just one dance. While you understood his adversion to it, that didn’t exactly stop you from wanting to dance with him in the living room. You even pulled out one of your nice records that had some of the slower Christmas songs on it, hoping it would help. Christmas was wildly different from Valentine’s Day after all. But no. As long as there was dancing, Harry wouldn’t be fond.

It left you feeling quite disappointed actually. Even after all this time, he still hadn’t entertained the idea, even for you. And as much as you wanted to just pull him from the couch and try to make him dance at least a little, you knew full well that would have done more harm than good. So you simply let him stay planted on the couch, arms crossed in annoyance despite the mask hiding everything.

“Alright, Harry,” You eventually sighed, giving him a complaisant smile, “I just thought I’d ask.” It was stupid of you to ask though, despite knowing everything. Sure, maybe it was alright to long for such things, but asking was already off the table, you should’ve known. The smile on your face faltered slightly, before you gave a nod to Harry and turned to leave the living room. You needed a drink.

There was a freshly popped bottle of champagne that you had gotten in celebration of the holidays. It was a bit more on the expensive side, but Christmas only came around one time of year. You grabbed a clean glass for yourself, before glancing over your shoulder and towards the living room. No, he probably wouldn’t want any. Not after you spoiled the mood.

A heavy sigh left your lips as you poured yourself probably a little too much champagne, nearly spilling some of it, before resealing the bottle and putting it to the side. You already knew how pathetic you must’ve looked as you took a large sip before carefully setting your glass back down. The only thing that made the moment worsem besides Harry’s silence, was the fact that those damn Christmas songs were still playing. Part of you expected him to have stopped the record by now, especially with how anti-dance he was. Or maybe he was just being cruel and wanted you to know how badly you messed up by letting the songs play.

The more logical side of you said that idea was stupid, and Harry wouldn’t treat you cruelly like that. But the more meotional side, the side of you that was ready to down your entire glass of champagne, thought otherwise. Like what you needed this year was another headache from your stupidity and Harry’s unwillingness to change and heal. It felt just as cruel thinking such things, but it was better than saying them out loud, you reasoned.

Still, that music was starting to make you more and more upset. Not wanting to cause an internal war to break out in your mind, you took your bubbling glass to the living room and immediately approached the record player. You didn’t even register the way Harry’s head followed you, watching to see what you were up to now.

Just as one of your personal favourites was about to start, you picked the needle up from the record, actively stopping the music. Now, there was silence. Silence that you didn’t care for, but would have to for now. Silence that was interrupted by a slight shuffle on the couch, and bootsteps against the carpet.

“Why did you do that?” Harry’s ever quiet voice echoed from his mask, suddenly right behind you. Somewhere, not too deep down, you felt a little frustrated at such a question. Like he should know why you shut off the music, like he should be teased and mocked by it too.

But the growing frustration melted away from your chest as Harry’s hand lightly took the champagne from your grasp, his other hand snaking around your waist. It wasn’t often that you had a drink while upset, so you weren’t too surprised to have it taken from you. Maybe it was for the best. At least, until you atually found the words to properly describe how you were feeling. That frustration of desire and being shut down over and over again.

You let out a soft sigh as you watched him set your glass to the side, before holding you with both arms. One of your hands reached up to feel his hair, only to simply feel his helmet and let your hand trail back down instead. “I figured it would be best, since you don’t want to dance and I do,” You mumbled, keeping your eyes everywhere else. At this moment, you didn’t want to look at him, knowing you’d just feel frustrated again.

Of course, your confession was met with silence, not like you expected much else. But for just a moment, Harry’s grip on you tightened. It wasn’t out of frustration, you already knew what that was like from the early years. Instead, it felt almost like how he held you after not seeing you all day, that tight hug he gave to tell you that he missed you. For just a moment, you basked in the feeling of being held with such love despite your frustrations, before one of his hands let go.

It was only when you heard the music kick back on did you realise what he was actually doing, what he actually had in mind. You leaned your head back and turned to look up at him, seeing the warm light of the Christmas tree practically bouncing off of Harry’s lenses. The effect made it seem like his eyes were glimmering as he looked back down at you.

“I will… try one dance. Only for you,” He spoke after a moment, pulling you to the middle of the living room and turning you towards him. For some reason, you couldn’t help but feel a little flustered as he guided your hands to his shoulders, while his found your hips. Right as Silver Bells started playing.

A slight yet nervous smile appeared on your face as Harry took the lead with the dancing, which was more swaying than anything. It was obvious how uncomfortable he was, shoulders stiff, back straight as a plank. While you wouldn’t have said it out loud, it amused you just how serious he was trying to take it. Like it was a job that he needed to perform rather than an intimate moment in the living room.

And yet, this was what you wanted. It didn’t matter that you were in your pyjamas and socks or that Harry smelled permanently of copper and soot. You couldn’t help but sigh as you leaned your head against his shoulder, actively getting closer and wrapping your arms around his torso. For just a moment, he stiffened at how close you were, before loosening up and continuing to sway with you. Maybe he was just thinking of this as a moving hug rather than dancing. That thought brought an amused smile to your face.

“This is nice,” You hummed quietly, feeling Harry nod his head neck to yours. The frustration you felt before seemed silly still, and yet you found yourself ever grateful to get your wish. Though thinking about it, you couldn’t help but feel a little bad. A frown appeared on your face as you glanced to the record player, “I’m sorry for guilting you into this.”

All you got in reply was a slight huff at first, a clear sign that whatever you said, Harry certainly didn’t agree. “Don’t. All you wanted was just a simple dance. It’s the least I can do,” His grip tightened for just a moment before pulling away and looking into your eyes. For a moment, you swore you saw his looking right back at you. “Just think of this as an early Christmas gift,” You could hear the smile in his voice. And that, in turn, made you smile even wider, a slight glesm in your eyes.

“Does this mean I can say I want a dance for Christmas now?” Your excitement made him chuckle, gently shaking his head at the way you immediately were planning for more. Though you knew Harry found it endearing, especially as he held you even closer to his chest.

“Oh, what am I going to do with you?”

Chapter Text

“How much longer are you going to be doing that? I’m starting to get bored watching you cut up paper, as much as I love watching you work those scissors.”

The sudden flirt in Ghostface’s tone didn’t go unnoticed by you, only earning a scoff and an eye roll in return. It wasn’t the first time he had asked that night, nor would it most likely be the last. While charming that he wanted your time, it was becoming a little much with what all you had left. You tried to wave him off, but then again, when did that ever work.

“Well, if you stopped distracting me, I would be able to go quicker,” You shot back, only getting a chuckle in response. It was clear that, even if you couldn’t see his face, he had absolutely no intentions of leaving you alone.

Ghostface rested his chin on his hands, tilting his head at you as if he were nothing but innocent. “Aww, but that’s no fun either,” He teased, gently tapping your foot with his under the table. It wasn’t like you wanted to tell him off again. Rather than argue longer, you shook your head and simply continued on with what you were doing.

In all reality, you didn’t have much left to wrap. At least, not while Ghostface was still here. With as much time as he had been hanging around you, it made it hard to actually find a time to wrap his presents from you. Even an hour of him running off and doing whatever would work. But no, he was on his “vacation”, as if serial killers had vacation time. If anything, you’d buy a few gift bags and call it good.

At the very least, he was quiet for now, gently thrumming his fingers against the table. Some obscure Christmas horror movie played forgotten in the living room. You could even hear the wind rushing around outside. It left you with some peace as you carefully aligned another box on the wrapping paper you chose.

In one long stroke, your scissors glided through the paper, cutting away a large, clean sheet. Next to you, Ghostface hummed, as if he were impressed by your skills. Which didn’t really surprise you. Of course he’d be impressed, his livelihood was practically based around cutting things.

“Look at my boy, such good coordination,” Ghostface chuckled, leaning closer to you. the thrumming of his fingers got a little quieter, as if he were thinking about something. That head tilt was all you needed to confirm your suspicions. “It always makes me wonder how well you’d fare with a knife.”

You rolled your eyes at that one in particular, “Please, I’m not going to cut wrapping paper with a knife for your sick pleasures.” Though your tone was more harsh than teasing, Ghostface seemed to get what you meant, humming slightly. He moved his chair closer to yours, leaning up against you and resting an arm around the back of your chair. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head, knowing well enough that he was scheming.

“Just once? For me?” Oh, you could practically hear the pout in his tone. It almost made you want to be cruel and deny his request, even though he’d just ask until you gave in. But you still wanted to be a little bit mean, considering Ghostface had distracted you so much every time you tried to wrap gifts.

Then, an idea popped into your head. It would give you a decent opprotunity to wrap one of his gifts, considering he’d be more focused on your knife skills than whatever would be in the box. Yea, you really liked that idea.

You sighed heavily, as if you were disappointed or annoyed that he was pushing you to do this. Like you were finally giving in, but only begrudgingly. “I guess…” You frowned, looking into those void-like eyes you had gotten so used to, “But only if I can wrap one of your gifts without you trying to peek into the box.”

That seemed to make him perk up a little. You could practically feel the grin on his face as Ghostface nodded before waving you away. As if you’d get it faster if he did. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you smiled back, getting up from the dining room table and heading towards your bedroom. Lucky for you, he seemed to be willing to stay in his seat, making it easier for you to pick out which gift.

As if you didn’t already know which box you planned on wrapping. The boxes for him were hidden away in your bedroom closet, an obvious place to hide them, but Ghostface had been gracious enough not to peek. Or at least, not to let you know he peeked. You picked up one of the smaller boxes and checked inside.

It was the right one, holding a pretty blade with a deep red handle that you thought he’d like a lot. The most showy person you knew, yet all he had was that bowie knife. You wanted to be the one to give him something more showy, even if it went unused. If you thought about it longer, then maybe you would’ve considered buying Ghostface a knife was a pretty odd thing to do. You were practically putting the weapon in a killer’s hands.

For just a moment, you hoped he would use it purely for decoration, before closing the unassuming box and walking back with it. Just as you expected, Ghostface was still at the table, except now he had his bowie knife out and was flourishing it. You stood just outside the dining room for a moment, watching it dance and bounce light off of it’s shiny surface. It was almost mesmerizing, how careless yet careful the movements seemed.

You snapped yourself out of your fascination and simply entered the dining room, only for Ghostface’s gaze to be immediately on you. He stopped his flourishing as you moved a mostly finished present out of the way. The box caught his attention as well, but he didn’t say anything, letting you estimate just how much paper you’d need.

“That for me?” Ghostface asked with a slight purr, only to get a silent nod in return as you set the box down on the middle of the paper. With a slight dramatic flair, he flipped the knife, grabbing the blade with his gloved hand, and held the handle out to you. A pleased hum escaped him as you took the blade from his hand, “I’m surprised you haven’t wrapped any of mine yet, considering that’s all you’ve been doing all week.”

As if he hadn’t distrcated you all week, and weren’t distracting you right at that moment. You rolled your eyes at such a bold statement, “If you weren’t so attached and gave me a few hours alone, then maybe I would have everything wrapped.” You gave him a look as you experimented with how to hold his blade. It was the first time you had ever actually held it. Surprisingly, it was a little heavier than you expected, considering you knew quite well how violent his “work” commonly turned out.

“Yea, not gonna happen, baby,” Ghostface chuckled, leaning back in his chair all casual like as he watched you adjust to his blade. It was clear he was judging you on your technique, despite you only using knives for meals or the occasional box. Treating an amatuer like a pro, how sweet of him.

You felt oddly nervous under his gaze, as you aligned the box in just the right spot. With a steady hand, you raised the knife to the very top of the paper, took a breath, before making a quick and clean slice all the way down. It honestly surprised you, how well it turned out. You quickly handed the knife back to Ghostface, moving the rest of the wrapping paper roll to the side, before your face dropped.

“Damn it, I scratched the table. Remind me to never let you convince me to do something that stupid again,” You grumbled, trying to buff out the scratch with your finger. Obviously it didn’t work, but it made you feel better, if just for a short moment.

An amused huff left Ghostface as he watched you try and fail to get rid of the light line in your table. He put his knife back in it’s sheath, before sitting up and leaning closer. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll teach you how to use it properly,” The charm in his tone was thick, you could practically hear the wink at the end.

Although you scoffed, you couldn’t help the heat in your cheeks. All you wanted to do was finish wrapping quickly, and figure out what to do for the rest of his gifts later.

Chapter Text

The discomfort on Carrie’s face had been present all day, even last night while you two were preparing for what was basically a feast. It was clear that something was wrong, but you didn’t exactly know how to bring it up. After all, she hadn’t told you much about what family she did have, except that there was no way she’d be spending the holidays with them. It made you feel a little better, since you were so used to spending them alone. But if Carrie was feeling bad, then what was the point?

All that you could think of was that maybe she felt uncomfortable engaging in Yule traditions with you. Her mother was apparently a religious nut, but you couldn’t tell if that lead to Carrie disliking all religious holidays, or simply following what she knew. The idea that she was uncomfortable with your traditions didn’t sit well with you.

There must’ve been some sort of scowl on your face, because before you knew it, Carrie was at your side. “Are you doing alright?” She asked softly, her brow creased with worry. It felt worse seeing her like that. But you weren’t sure if now was a good time to bring up your worries. So you didn’t yet, and gave her a smile.

“Yea, I’m alright. Just having trouble rolling the cake like I always do,” You kept your tone joking, knowing all too well that part of you was being serious. No matter how many times you made them, the process of making a Yule log was always a little more difficult. But you hadn’t torn a cake in years, so that wasn’t a concern.

Carrie must’ve been able to tell you weren’t telling the entire truth, if her expression was anything to go by, but she didn’t poke further. Instead, she turned her attention to the cake you were carefully trying to roll. “So what is it that you’re making again?” She asked, changing the conversation for the better. Though the guilt was still there, it was definitely relieving that she wasn’t pushy when it came to you not wanting to speak about certain things. After all, you did the same for her.

Besides, you were more than happy to share what you were doing. “I’m making a Yule log. It’s like a swiss roll, but made purposely to look like a log of wood. I usually do a spice cake for mine, since it’s more festive,” You explained as you carefully continued rolling the cake, all the way until it was fully rolled. It seemed to interest Carrie, which made you feel a bit better. As long as she wasn’t uncomfortable.

But as you continued explaining, you noticed her expression fall slightly as she looked down at the cake in your hands. It was starting to eat at you, what could possibly be going on in her head. Even as Carrie smiled once again at you and leaned against you, it didn’t feel right. You tried to smile back at her, but the worry still gnawed at you. No, you had to ask.

“Carrie?” You got her attention again, after you stopped your work on the cake, “Does all of this make you uncomfortable? I mean, I get it. You don’t celebrate Yule so…”

Now that the words where out there, you didn’t exactly know where to go with them. Where could you go with them? You didn’t just want to push aside your culture, especially after all the work you two put into today. But you couldn’t stand the idea of Carrie being silently upset that she was participating.

The look on her face said a lot more than you anticipated. She looked… shocked, you could say. You couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe she was shocked you called her out, or maybe she didn’t think her discomfort was visible on her face. But then she started shaking her head.

“No. No, no. I’m not uncomfortable,” Carrie tried to explain as she gently grabbed your arm, her brows lightly furrowed. The movements she made and the words she chose seemed deliberate as, for just a moment, she paused. “I’m just… worried. I don’t want to do something wrong, especially since I’ve never celebrated something like this.”

It was almost silly, hearing such things from her. She was worried she’d do something wrong? You couldn’t exactly think of a way that would be wrong to celebrate Yule. All you had really done was cook a large meal for yourself and neighbours, drink a little bit, and burn a log from last year’s tree. Even not celebrating it was fine in most communities you’d seen.

But knowing Carrie was so openly worried for the past two days about something so trivial. Well, you couldn’t help but feel like an idiot. Sure, her behaviour initially felt like cause for concern, so it was fine for you to be worried as well. Now you just wanted to laugh.

A slight smile appeared on your face as you looked at her. “You won’t do something wrong, hun,” You spoke gently, trying not to sound too amused. It wasn’t like you were laughing at her, you just simply felt amused by the situation. To think that something so trivial was making you anxious. “I’ll be honest with you, I’d be more surprised if you did find a way to do something wrong.”

The look she gave you in return was one of disbelief but also relief. To hear those words come from you must’ve given Carrie a bit of confidence as she suddenly hugged you, letting out a breath you didn’t even know she was holding. It made you smile a bit, happy that she was finally feeling more comfortable.

You let out a slight chuckle as you wrapped an arm around her, “Yea, yea. I’m the best girlfriend, I know.” You hummed, brushing a hair from her face. It felt… nice not having to celebrate Yule alone for once. Yea, nice.

Chapter Text

Christmas. It was finally Christmas. After an excruciating few weeks of being so busy with your job, you finally had some time off. And the first thing you did with your Christmas morning was stay in bed. The day could wait, you were exhausted still.

You threw an arm over your eyes, trying to block out the sun from your windows. Just a few more minutes. Or hell, a very more hours would do you quite well. It was a holiday, you deserved it. The bed was too comfortable to just leave. Besides, you knew that the moment you got up, it would be a long day as well.

So, after a few moments of sweet silence, you started to fall back asleep. Your soft breathing masked the sound of footsteps gently approaching your room. Even when your door opened, you were still sleeping away. It wasn’t until a much heavier weight suddenly placed itself over you, quickly dragging you out of the dream land you were on your way to.

The moment you moved your arm and opened your eyes, all you could see was the ever familiar face of Billy. He was actually a lot closer than you would’ve liked, nearly touching noses with you, but you smiled regardless. Slowly, you reached up and brushed his hair back and out of both of your faces, watching him shiver with delight.

“Morning Billy,” You smiled up at him, eyes still a little blurry from being so tired. All you could hear now was his shaky breath, his slightly agape mouth pulling itself into a lopsided smirk. The pressure of his hands on your chest and the rest of his weight on your stomach was getting to be a bit much. You gently taped his leg, trying to get him off. Thankfully for you, Billy felt like listening today.

He scrambled off of you and onto the ground as quickly as he appeared. The way Billy stared up with such anticipation as you sat up in your bed, the way his fingers ever so slightly. The signs were there, he had been waiting awake for a good moment. If he slept at all.

Even when you got up and started getting ready, Billy still stared at you, but stayed out of your way. It was nice, having a little bit more peace before actually having to confront the day. But you knew the moment you were done, Billy would be all over you. It was his usually behaviour, yes, but the holidays always made him much more clingy.

You just barely got your sweater on when he pounced, wrapping his arms around your torso like he was trying to crush you. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t. Either way, it knocked the breath from your lungs, leaving you struggling for just a few moments as you tapped repeatedly on his arm. Once again, all you could hear was his shaky breath against your skin, practically coating you in his presence.

“Ok, ok, it’s time you let go now,” You finally spoke, a little strained from just how tightly Billy was hugging you. “Can’t celebrate Christmas if I pass out.”

Now that definitely made him think. The sound of his breathing suddenly hitched as his fingers twitched slightly against the fabric of your clothes. It was like the concept never actually occurred to Billy, or maybe he was contemplating if it would really be a problem or not. But after a longer moment than you would’ve like, he eventually loosened his hold on you and let go, finally giving you a chance to breathe.

At least he had gotten better at listening to you. A slight smile appeared on your face as you turned around, before gently taking Billy’s face in your hands. “Good boy. Thank you for listening,” You lightly rubbed his cheeks as you praised him, watching as what was already a touch starved man practically melted into your hands. A quiet groan barely met your ears, and yet you smiled just a bit wider.

“Alright, are you ready to go open presents now?” Immediately, Billy lit up, his slumped posture immediately straightening. Before you knew it, he had already grabbed your hands and started dragging you to the living room. It didn’t matter if you were still incredibly tired, or if the gifts would still be there even if you two didn’t rush. It was the one thing that seemed to make Billy truly excited.

Though now you were wishing that you locked your door like you originally thought about doing. Sure, Billy would’ve probably ended up scratching at your door like a cat, but those extra five minutes would’ve felt so nice. There would always be the chance to take a nap later though. You’d just have to survive that long.

The moment you entered the living room, Billy let go of your hand and immediately rushed to the tree. Last night, you promised you’d leave the lights on since it was Christmas. Even now, the twinkling lights made you smile a bit, especially as they lit up Billy’s face, showing off the determined look he wore. It made you wonder, as you watched Billy sift through a few presents, what exactly was he looking for?

“Billy-” Before you could even get the words out, a box was suddenly shoved into your arms. The box itself was… poorly wrapped to say the least. There was definitely effort put into it, but compared to the ones you wrapped, it was a bit obvious that Billy wrapped this one.

Still though, you smiled, sitting down on the couch and setting the box in your lap. Billy quickly sat himself right next to you, practically leaning against you as he waited for you to open it. Of course, you obliged, and slowly began unwrapping your present. At least it made sense now why he wanted to know where the leftover wrapping paper was. He simple wanted to surprise you with a gift.

The effort to keep it a secret definitely impressed you a bit. And as you discarded the paper to the side, you immediately noticed that the box had been taped surprisingly well. It made you wonder if Billy had watched you wrap presents for your friends and picked up on how you did it. You almost didn’t want to open it yet, but Billy’s intent gaze on you was enough to get you to continue.

But wow, were you glad you did. He had managed to fit a decently sized stuffed animal in the box. It was a pig with small wings, and cute little blushing cheeks. You set the box aside with an adoring look, simply holding the stuffed pig. It was soft. It was adorable. It was definitely stolen. There was genuinely no way that Billy could’ve bought it, but you didn’t say anything about it, simply leaning your head against his as you admired the stuffed pig.

“D..Did Billy… Did I do good..?” He stuttered out after a moment, gently yet cautiously putting a hand on your thigh. It was something he started to mimic after seeing it in a movie, including rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. Quite clearly, Billy was feeling anxious, especially considering he had never gotten such a gift for you before. Maybe he was anticipating you scolding him, considering the method he used to get it.

But you simply couldn’t bring yourself to get onto him in this moment. It was Christmas, you shouldn’t have to scold him. After a moment of thinking, you let out a sigh and nodded. “Yes, hun. You did good. I love it,” You took in a sharp breath as Billy’s hand gripped your thigh a little harder, but your smile remained. It was the confirmation he needed, that he did good for you. “Are you going to open your presents now?”

To your surprise, Billy shook his head, cuddling a little closer to you and letting out a heavy sigh. “Not yet..” He muttered, letting his head droop a bit. It seemed like he was almost exhausted, only wanting you to wake up immediately so you could get your gift. While you would’ve liked more sleep, it was definitely one of his sweeter acts.

You held the stuffed pig to your chest and leaned closer to Billy, listening to his breathing get softer as he started to fall back asleep. Maybe waking up early wasn’t so bad.