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The only name he gave was The Wassailant. According to the townsfolk, he came around once a year to spread merriment, and punish those who thought they could choose not to participate. Well punish is a very fanciful word, he just beat them to death with a very festive bat. The Wassailant never seemed to age, just came and demanded a drink and an audience for his tunes. The townsfolk rather liked him actually, some sort of friendly(ish) area cryptid, and most were happy enough to participate in his merriment.
That being said, he was still a dangerous individual, and unfortunately incredibly fuckable.
And that thought process is how they found themselves pushed against the wall outside a tavern, with The Wassailant’s mouth on their neck. His body and hands and mouth hot against the cold wind and air. They gasped loudly as The Wassailant bit down at the nape of their next.
“Would you like to, maybe move this somewhere else?”
“Ye-yeah, we can go to my house.”
And off they went, The Wassailant hooked his arm around theirs and let them lead him off into the forest. Bringing a jolly but very violent cryptid into their secluded cabin? Definitely dangerous. Unfortunately, The Wassailant had a warm mouth and an ass that wouldn't quit. So they ignored the rational part of their brain and kept going.
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A piping mug of hot cocoa was shoved in their hands. Topped with whipped cream, marshmallows, sprinkles, and a candy cane sticking out of it. All ingredients were not things they typically kept in their cabin. The Wassailant looked at it and back at them, clearly signaling to drink it. Well, they’ve come this far, what’s one more stupid choice.
Holy fuck.
Holy fucking shit who knew hot chocolate could be so fucking good.
The Wassailant chuckled as they downed the whole mug and pulled two more mugs of the sweet chocolate elixir out of nowhere. One he kept for himself and the other he exchanged with his host for their empty mug. They thanked him and nursed this one a little slower. Why had they brought The Wassailant home with them again? They couldn’t recall, it couldn’t be for his absolutely banging hot chocolate? Could it?
“Are you comfy?”
They looked back up at the jolly fellow who was tuning an instrument… Where did all these instruments come from?
“Oh yes! Thank you, what are you doing?”
“Just getting ready for a little show, you up for a bit of merrymaking?”
They had the feeling they didn’t actually have a say in this. The Wassailant look this as a yes and dropped a tambourine in their lap with a grin.
“Just feel the music in your heart and soul and play accordingly!”
Now what the fuck was that supposed to mean? But they didn’t have time to ponder this as all the instruments sprung to life and the merrymaking began.