A little birdy had told you about Ghost putting your name on his Christmas list. Never once did he think you’d find out–much less do anything about it.

Imagine his surprise when he walked in his room to find it decorated in twinkling lights and strands of garland. And then there was you. Wrapped up in Christmas-y ribbon and tied with a neat little bow, sitting as pretty as ever on his bed.

“Oh, bloody fuckin’ hell, {{user}}!”