#But you know; he got one of them a thoughtful Christmas present and it wasn't her

[reginamillls]

I Saw My Uncle Kissing Santa Claus

"You really gotta tell him man," Tommy hears Howie's voice coming into the kitchen from the hall. He's about to come in, but the answering voice makes Tommy stop.

"I know," Evan says, sounding odd. "I can't keep this a secret for much longer, it will just make things awkward for Tommy. He needs to be prepared for whats to come."

Tommy's brows furrow at that, and his palms feel sweaty all the sudden-

Things were going good between them, slow sure, but better then it was before. Stronger. This is their first Christmas together since their last one was spent apart and Tommy-

Is overthinking.

Tommy steps into the kitchen then and is met with two identical looks of surprise.

He's been caught.

"No time like the present, hey Buck," Howie grins as he claps Buck on the back before walking past Tommy. Howie then winks at Tommy, and any thoughts he had to worry melt away.

"You know you should really be the one to tell him-" Evan starts but Howie interupts him.

"You owe me big time, good luck, thank you!" Howie sing songs before he's stepping out of the kitchen, leaving a pouting Evan behind.

Tommy decides he just has to kiss that pout and Evan smiles against his lips before grabbing at Tommy's waist and bringing him in for a deeper kiss.

"You're-" A kiss. "Stalling."

"Okay," Evan admits. "I have something to tell you, and ah - I guess, I guess ask of you to." He starts, rambling. "And it-it's kinda cute?"

"Cute?" Tommy asks, raises a brow. "What-"

"Jee thinks you're Santa." Evan blurts out and Tommy's eyes widen.

Out of all the things he expected, that wasn't one of them.

"She. Thinks. I'm. Santa."

"Yup." Evan pops the 'p' at the end.

"Um, why?" Tommy asks, and he's leaning against the counter now, confused at the turn of events.

"She has a list," Evan says and he pulls it out of his pocket to present it to Tommy. The piece of paper has Jee-Yun all over it, from the stickers of every genre to the glittery writing. It makes Tommy smile when he looks at it.

"Why Tommy is Santa-" Evan starts and he clears his throat, being a little dramatic.

"One. He flies." Evan starts and Tommy nods his head.

"I do fly-"

"And so does Santa," Evan pokes at Tommy's chest. "Can I continue?" Tommy makes a motion to do so, and Evan lifts the list off again to read it off.

"Two. Tommy took us to see reindeer, and Santa has reindeer." That was true, Tommy knew a guy who worked for the zoo and was on a team that was rehibiliating some reindeer. Tommy had taken Jee and Evan there a few weeks ago.

"Three. He has a long red coat." That one was a stretch, but Tommy wouldn't argue against it. He had a long wool coat for when he camps out in the mountains, and it was indeed red, though it was a more muted shade then he thought Santa would wear. Jee had seen it last week when she had been over for the night with her brother to give Maddie and Howie a night off.

"Four - and this is where it gets cute," Evan says, completely fond of both his niece and his boyfriend. "He has a big smile and he laughs and makes people happy."

"That's sweet," Tommy says, blushing. He ducks his head and Evan steps closer into his bubble, wrapping his arms around Tommy.

"There's more, like how you always remember what kind of gifts people want and ah-" Evan pauses briefly something that happens sometimes whenever their breakup came into the conversation. "You were gone last Christmas, and I think she thought you were busy."

"Being Santa." Tommy huffs, shakes his head. "Better than what actually happened."

They've talked about it, how Tommy threw himself into work to cope with everything. It wasn't healthy, but he's working on it.

Evan nods his head and the hand on Tommy's waist squeezes.

"She still believes," Evan says. "And with the baby this year, I think she feels a little left out. So when they got into Christmas folklore at school, I think she latched onto the idea that you were Santa. It's why she's been so shy today."

"Okay," Tommy nods his head. He gets it. Believing in something when things were a little difficult could get you through hard times. His old man had told him the truth about Santa when he had been young, and Tommy didn't have that little bit of Christmas magic growing up.

"Do you want me to tell her I'm not?" Tommy asks, undure what they should do here. Evan shakes his head then and Tommy relaxes.

"Chimney and Maddie want to talk to her about it, they just didn't want you to think she was ignoring you-" Evan grins. "I think she's trying to be on the good list. I've never seen her room so clean."

Tommy huffs out a laugh at that. He had thought it was a little strange that Jee hadn't come running to them for a hug when they came, but he figured that she was just being quiet for her brother's sake.

"And what list are you on?" Tommy asks Evan, voice low as his eyes dart over Evan. The other man snorts out a laugh then before he pulls Tommy in for a kiss.

"I think I've been on the good list, Santa-" Evan whispers in Tommy's ear.

Tommy tries.

He really does, but he lasts about two seconds before he bursts into laughter. Evan joins him then, and it feels good, laughing with his boyfriend.

"Uncle Buck?" Tommy hears, and he sees the very person they were talking about coming into the kitchen. "Can we play cowboys and princesses and aliens?" She asks and Evan straightens away from Tommy and he gestures as if he's wearing a cowboy hat, tipping it to Jee and the girl giggles in return.

"I reckon the Princess Cowboys have a lot to do before Christmas Evan tomorrow." Evan says in an exxagerated southern accent.

Tommy is completely charmed by him.

"Are you too busy to play Uncle Tommy?" Jee asks and Tommy feels like his heart skips a beat.

That was the first time Jee has ever called him 'Uncle.'

"Yeah, that sounds fun. Can I be a Princess?" Tommy asks and follows Jee and Evan back into the living area.

He prefers Unlce to Santa, anyday.

[kumkaniudaku]

Caught

Summary: When their guest is away, Terry and Patrice will play.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3,067

Warnings: Smut (18+ content)

Recommended Reading: Spoiled

Author's Note: Spoiled, Back Up, and Caught all happen on the same linear timeline. Consider them present day events. Hopefully that helps pull things together because you'll need the context later. Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays!

"Mommy, the recipe for the hand pies is so good. Thank you for finding it for me." 

"Oh, of course, baby. One day, I gotta get you to help me put all your Nana's recipes in a book or something. I'm tired of digging through all these scraps of paper." 

"I didn't wanna say anything, but that's insane. I can barely read her handwriting." 

Rosalyn scoffed on the other end of the phone line. "You and me both. I have to call Sybil every time or end up making up what I think goes there. I cook. I don't decipher chicken scratch."

Patrice laughed along with her mother as she passed a piping hot meatball over her shoulder to satisfy her taste tester for the night. He hummed his approval of her gift, providing a thumbs up as his rating before returning his hand to her waist and swaying them in time with the slow rhythm of Christmas music playing in the background. 

Christmas Eve brought preparation for the big day on the other side of a wake-up and a smaller get-together to celebrate Imani's and Jesus's birthdays in one evening. Patrice had offered to continue the tradition at her house to accommodate her cousin's request for loud music, liquor, and good, grown folks' fun. In a few short minutes, she and Terry would have a house full of adults gorging themselves on party food and fighting fits of giggles during a drunk game of Taboo. For now, she'd enjoy the calm before the storm with her shadow attached at the hip.

"The cinnamon smell for the apple version was way too strong, though. I almost skipped those altogether." 

Rosalyn responded with a sound of cautious curiosity. "Really? You usually love the smell of cinnamon." 

"Right," Patrice exclaimed. "Maybe I had a bad batch or something. It doesn't taste bad, but it smelled awful."

"Hm." Rosalyn filed the information in her head for a later moment of privacy, preferring not to stress her daughter with the questions buzzing around in the mind of a mother who knew her child better than anyone in the world. Instead, she continued. "Terry, did you like the hand pies?"

"You don't know if Terry is even in here, mama. He could be anywhere in the house," Patrice answered, her face screwed in confusion.

"Child, don't insult me. If you're in the kitchen, Terry is in the kitchen."

She wasn't wrong. A few too many glasses of Patrice's special holiday cocktail mixed with his ever-present desire to feel his wife at all times had Terry sticking to her like glue. Even after she'd given in to each of his kisses and allowed him to taste her the moment Imani stepped out to run a few errands, she still couldn't shake him. Whiskey was in control. Terry was only along for the ride.

He chuckled into the crook of Patrice's neck before confirming his presence. "Yes, ma'am, I loved the pies. Treece made a few on the side for me so I wouldn't have to share." 

"She still got you spoiled, I see."

"Nah, not too bad. You know she gets sweet once a week. I caught her on a good day." 

"Oh, hush."

Patrice's attempt to get out of Terry's grasp came up empty, prompting him to hold her tighter and press wet kisses onto the back of her neck. She was sadly mistaken if she thought she could get away from him that easy while Uncle Nearest was pumping through his veins. 

"Well, let me let you two go," Rosalyn started with a small laugh. "Tell me how the chicken salad turns out. I might throw some together as a little snack for your daddy tomorrow. You know how he gets when he's ready to eat." 

"Mhmm. Just like somebody else I know."

Terry patiently waited for Patrice to wrap up her conversation and safely end the call before resuming his handsy approach to PDA. His hands slid up and down the fabric of her cotton pajama pants, the pair matching his at her request. Full lips attached to her neck, creating a light suction with every open-mouthed kiss. 

His wife rolled her eyes as she loaded a pita chip with dip for his culinary opinion. "You are insatiable, TJ. Taste this." 

He obliged, opening wide as she slid food into his mouth and waited for a response. Instead of a verbal assessment of her work, he kissed her cheek twice to signal his approval, then returned to his shameless groping.

"How long before Imani gets back?" 

"I don't know. Fifteen minutes or so. She only went to grab some more cups and water." 

Terry's eyes flickered to the digital clock on the stove before sliding his hands up Patrice's torso and leaving a trail of kisses on her shoulder. "Think you got a few minutes to get back to what we started?" 

"Haven't you had enough of me yet? We've been going at it every day since New Orleans."

"What you think?"

Having enough of her touch, the feeling of her body against his, or her attention was a foreign concept for Terry. If he could quit his job and be totally devoted to her pleasure, he would do so without a second thought. Fortunately for him, though, extended absences from the slough of office life due to the holidays provided the closest opportunity to spend the whole day in it. 

Patrice smiled to herself as Terry slowly removed the serving spoon from her hand, bringing her delicate palm up to the back of his head. Coarse hair grown into a short tuft of curls and shaped by his barber tickled her fingertips as she closed her eyes, officially caught up in how Terry caressed her with the care afforded to precious works of art. 

A low purr slipped past his lips as his hands slid beneath the hem of her camisole to rub her stomach, filling her ears and mind with filthy sounds and images from earlier in the hour. Had he had enough of her? She wasn't sure she'd had enough of him. 

His fingertips inched higher, further intoxicating Patrice until a full squeeze on both breasts at the same time made her hiss and wince in pain. 

"Easy, baby," she complained as she gently pressed down on his arms to direct him away from the sensitive area. "They're super tender right now. I'm not sure why." 

Lust was quickly replaced by concern as Terry dropped his hands and turned Patrice to face him. "You okay?" 

"I'm fine, Pooh. It's probably the tattoo healing. 

"Yeah, but it shouldn't be making the entire area hurt. Especially not on both sides. Let me look."

"Terry, you never just look."

His attempt to slide the thin straps of her tank top down her arms was quickly cut short as Patrice brushed off his contact to save herself from what she assumed would come next. Her aching was a serious matter. Terry getting a look at her bare tits was not nearly as high on the list. 

Terry softened his eyes in unmistakable sincerity. "I'm serious, Treece. I know what it should look like. Come here."

Patrice didn't protest as Terry led her to the kitchen table. She stood perfectly still until Terry was comfortable in one of the chairs and then placed her between his legs. 

He gingerly pushed her tanktop straps down her arms before bunching the thin fabric at her waist to free her breasts, watching for any sign of discomfort.

"You don't think you're like…sick, do you?" 

"I think it's just tenderness," she quickly retorted, wanting to push the thought of more grave explanations for her discomfort far from her mind.

"Okay, okay. I'm only asking." 

Her brows furrowed as he lifted the right side to get a look at the moment from a charged few days in his family's old stomping grounds. 

A day alone and nothing to do but explore had them wandering into the same shady tattoo parlor where Terry got his first piece for matching ink. Terry opted to tat their wedding date on his ribs after having to be talked down from plastering her name on his neck. Patrice, however, was set on making her first experience one to remember. 

Slanted script crafted from his handwriting spelled Terry's full first name, curving just under the crease of her boob and the spot that he liked to grip in the depths of passion or simply at his leisure. Terry ran his thumb along each letter to check for abrasions or abnormalities. 

He looked up at Patrice to gauge her reaction. "That hurt?" 

"Not really. It's more here," she added, gesturing toward her areola. "Anything rubbing against it is so uncomfortable. I can barely wear a bra." 

"I noticed. They've honestly been looking a little bigger. Do they feel heavy to you?" 

"Not heavy. Mostly…full? They look great, though. I'm not complaining about that part." 

She joked, the attempt sounding silly once it received no reaction past Terry blinking as he used the pad of his thumb to ghost contact over her pebbled nipple to test her pain level. It was challenging to stay present, with a third of her upper half unnecessarily exposed in their kitchen for no real reason. The entire ordeal felt like a farce. Terrence wasn't a doctor, and him holding her titties in his hands like fleshy snowglobes was as much an actual check-up as WWE was real wrestling. 

When she giggled like a teenager learning about sex for the first time, Terry looked up at her with a quizzical expression, and his left eyebrow lifted high. "What's so funny?" 

"You, Doctor Richmond," she laughed. "How can you tell they're bigger? I couldn't even tell until the other day." 

"I spend a lot of time with my girls. I better notice when they change. Been looking at them since I was sixteen." Terry answered, a boyish grin making his cheekbones nearly touch the corner of his eyes. 

"I knew you used to look!" She exclaimed, finally feeling vindicated in her suspicions from childhood. 

"Looking was the least of what I was doing." He shrugged as he gently pushed both breasts together for his own viewing pleasure. He kissed the small crease they made two times over, then looked up at Patrice through long lashes. "Unfortunately, ma'am, I couldn't diagnose you, but I think I have some treatment available if you're interested." 

Patrice bit back a smile to play along. "Oh yeah? How much is this gonna cost? It's the holidays, and I ain't got it." 

"I offer payment plans that we can discuss in that room back there later tonight." 

"I like the sound of that," she answered, previous problems vanishing into thin air as he roped her back into his web of liquor-charged desire. 

"I knew you would," he winked. "Don't move."

Tingles rippled across Patrice's skin while she listened for any indication of Terry's secretive treatment plan. The soft crack and subsequent rush of cool from the freezer created goosebumps on her bare chest, making her nipples jut out proud from the sensation. Next came the cupboard opening and shutting in two seconds time. From the direction, she could tell he was grabbing a glass from over the sink. 

Ice cubes clinked against the cup like little masters of whispers attempting to give Patrice the scoop on what to expect. Terry quietly shut the freezer and took heavy steps back to his seat, smiling at how Patrice truly hadn't moved a muscle in his few minutes away. 

He placed the glass on the table behind him before tugging her hand to guide her closer. "Cold hot therapy. I sprained my knee once, and this got me back up and running in no time. Ice for the cold…" Terry's voice trailed as he plucked a piece of ice from his glass and pressed it to her nipple. He watched her jaw drop with a sharp inhale, intently focused on the way her eyelids fluttered closed at the sudden shock of frozen water. When a single drop began to make a trail down the swell of her breast, he pulled the ice away and brought his mouth closer. "And I'll take care of the hot."

"Oh…my God." 

Whispers of unexpected pleasure sent Terry into a far-off place where he was only concerned with running a flat tongue across supple skin. Patrice rushed to steady herself by bringing her hands to the back of his head, cradling him while he went to work. 

Ice cold. Soothing warmth. Ice cold. Soothing warmth and a light suckle. Again. And again. 

He eyed her like a lion watches prey, taking notes of every little sound and twitch to know that he was fulfilling his job. 

"Good job, baby," Patrice whispered, her head tossed back and praises spoken to the ceiling. "Good fuckin' job."

Terry ran his hands up the back of her thighs to roughly grip her ass. He groaned at the affirmation before pulling away to retrieve more ice. He held a small cube between his teeth to multitask, running it across her left nipple and areola until it had melted enough to fit both in his mouth. 

Was it fixing her tenderness issue? Not really. But Patrice would be damned if his subtle slurping and moaning with her backside firmly in his clutches wasn't sufficiently taking her mind off things. So far off, she'd lost all concept of time and space. 

While Terry pulled Patrice into his lap for a more intensive inspection, Imani entered the house high off the exhilarating freedom that can only come for night drives with a carefully curated playlist blasting from the speakers. Being stateside for the first time in a year was the perfect opportunity to experience one of life's simple pleasures. 

Grocery bags rustled and knocked against the wall as she hummed along to the fragmented lyrics from a song on her Spotify playlist still coursing through her brain. A short pause in her personal concert to lock the door left space to hear a string of curious noises. Muffled half-sentences and a sort of trembling sigh made her quirk an eyebrow. She thought to herself that Terry and Patrice left the television on far too often for a pair of people who claimed to not spend much time in front of the tube, but quickly found that they'd taken to making a scene the old-fashioned way. 

She stood in the open space, a perfectly shaped eyebrow pushed high on her face and an impressed smirk tugging at the right corner of her lip while she watched her baby cousin makeout with Imani's newest family member with a ferocity she didn't know Patrice had in her. 

Patrice held Terry steady by his jaw, slightly hovering over him while she had her way leading a sloppy kiss. When she moved to push his head back toward her chest with a string of words filthy enough to make a pornstar blush, Imani cleared her throat to finally announce her presence.

"Oh shit," Patrice yelped, rushing to tap Terry's back and end his check-up. 

His head popped up to survey the room, then slowly found a home on top of Patrice's once she pressed close enough against his chest to cover her naked breasts. The vibrations from his concealed chortling made Patrice pinch him in frustration. Nothing was funny, at least not to her. 

Imani held her hands up in faux surrender. "No, please. Don't stop on account of me," she laughed. "Y'all were just getting started." 

"We are so sorry, Moanie. This isn't what it looks like. Well, this part is exactly what it looks like, but I promise it didn't start like this. Terry was looking at my boobs to check on my tattoo and -" 

"Girl, you do not have to explain anything to me. This is your house! Honestly, if I had those big ol' mommy titties, I'd want them in somebody's face too. And you got them for free! The girls gotta go under the knife or get pregnant for those. How does it feel to be God's favorite? Terry, can you help me get the water out of the car when you finish?"

Terry looked down at his visibly distressed wife and then back at Imani to save face for the both of them. "Yeah, I got you. Gimme a minute." 

Moanie didn't notice how she'd launched her cousin into an internal spiral as she pranced off to busy herself with getting ready in her room for the week, but Terry did. He carefully sat Patrice up and helped redress her, careful to ease into conversation. 

"You alright?" 

"I had my cycle this month," Patrice rushed out, her gaze far off as Terry lifted her arm to put it back in her camisole strap. "It can't be that. I had my cycle." When her focus returned, her eyes snapped to Terry's for confirmation. "Right? I did, right?"

He nodded, unsure of how to proceed to quell her fear. "You did, baby. But, maybe…"

Sure, it was lighter than usual, but she'd had a cycle. Her body functioned like it did every month, on time and without pomp and circumstance. There was no cause for concern. 

But…maybe. 

Patrice looked down at her belly then back up at Terry, searching for answers in his sympathetic expression. He leaned forward and held her head with both hands to give her a kiss she couldn't return before he spoke. 

"Don't drink tonight. Just in case. We'll figure it out in the morning. Okay?"

"Okay." She whispered back without truly processing the gravity of his instruction. 

Terry slowly lifted Patrice from his lap to fulfill Imani's request for assistance, leaving her to stand perfectly still in the kitchen. She counted backward in her head, retracing her steps and important dates until a headache sent her to take a seat. 

It was just tenderness. It'd go away by morning, and all of this would be a silly story to tell whenever they got together in the spring for their European honeymoon. She'd drink an entire bottle of wine over heaps of pasta, turning the whole situation into a fond memory before raising her hand to call the server for another round. All water under the bridge, right?

But…maybe.

------

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[leeknow-thoughts]

𝅄  ׅ⊹ ۪ ꣑୧ dance of the sugarplum fairy

𝝑𝝔 l.mh x f!reader

𝝑𝝔 synopsis : Minho believes in fact over fiction. He's a scientist. It's practically in his blood. You're as much of a scientist as he is, hell, a better one than him at that. Yet, you still find wonder in the holidays. While you find wonder in presents and twinkling lights. Minho finds wonder in you. Could a confession gone wrong end up going right for him? Could you reciprocate his feelings that he's been pushing down for years and years?

𝝑𝝔 warnings : chemistry professor!minho, chemistry professor!reader, f!reader, mutual pining, christmas in a non-religious way, crying (in a sappy way), jisung! cameo, tooth rotting fluff, smut got mixed in with my fluff??, no clear dynamics, but minho is mommy (sorry guys act fucking surprised), mommy!kink, shower sex, p in v (unprotected, pls don't do this!!), pet names, pls lmk if I missed any warnings!!

𝝑𝝔 note from the author ! : Calliope once again indulges in soft!minho and doesn't apologize for it >_< I hope everyone is having a wonderful holiday season and that all who celebrate Christmas get exactly what they wanted!! :3

You're as reactive as Fluorine, and Minho wishes he didn't think of you chemically the way he does. He wishes he didn't immediately think of you when he thought of work and his experiments and the fucking teaching position he held. He wishes he could just think of you for you and he could go fuck off for all he cares - having a crush on his coworker.

And you're humming along to the song playing over the radio - some Clario song, he only knows who that is because you love her music. Honestly, he thinks you like music more than you like chemistry - so why did you choose to do this for a living?

You surely weren't a bad singer - Minho had heard you sing, it puts the harked herald angels to shame if he does say so - and you certainly were pretty enough to be famous.

Pretty was an understatement, you were the most devine creation to walk this earth. There's no way in his mind that he can conceptualize that you breathe the same oxygen as him - to him it was a privilege that he got to see you at all.

You were sought after, every fucking college in the nation wants you to work for them, yet you stay here. It wasn't like the place you work at is bad, it's MIT for Christ's sake, but Harvard has been asking for you for years.

He's almost offended by it, colleges treating you and all your brilliance like a tradeable Pokémon card.

Speaking of Pokémon, you're watching it on your phone as you finish up a lab report. How you can listen to music and watch a show and write a detailed report baffles Minho, but he doesn't question you because you're you, and he's the utter fool in love with you.

"You're spacing out Minho," your voice graces his ears, fuck, was he staring at you? "You look like you need a coffee, let's go get a cup, I'll pay."

You smile that sweet smile and talk in your sweet voice any longer and he's sure he's going to go insane. You're letting your hair down and it falls just right, framing your face perfectly. You had curled it that morning, and worn a perfume that smells like autumn.

He knows it's ridiculously foolish to consider something a chance that is nothing but stolen glances and blush stained cheeks and private thoughts. He can't help it.

"I think Jisung needs to start letting you get some sleep, you're zoning out so much," you hum with such concern, and he crumbles.

He feels almost dirty. Dirty for the thoughts he has of you. Dirty for the reason he isn't getting much sleep. Thinking about you in ways that would terrify a Catholic, or hell, even an atheist.

"'t's not Jisung," he slurs his words together.

They become a wet mix of vowels and articulations when he's talking to you. He hopes he doesn't sound this fucking dumb when he is teaching.

"Maybe you're sick," you tilt your head.

It's a habit you have, tilting your head when you make a statement. He finds it endearing. It was one of the first things about you that he perceived as such.

"'m fine, promise," he brushes off, "'nd I don' need any coffee."

"Well, you better wake up before the festival," you sigh, and he hates to think he let you down.

The festival, fuck, that is today. Each year the college throws a winter festival for the students, a lot of sororities and fraternities set up booths and the cafeteria gets turned upside down with decorations. The faculty's Secret Santa too, shit, he hasn't wrapped his gift. He really doesn't hate the festival or the idea of it, it keeps him young. He just doesn't know if he is gonna be able to stay around you any longer.

"Who did you get for Secret Santa?" you ask, taking a seat at the table, returning to your lab reports.

"Jus' Lix," he hates how drunk he sounds, "what about you? You always go above and beyond in the gift department."

He would never lie to you, you do go above and beyond with gifts. Each year, you go all out, spending a ridiculous amount of time and effort when it comes to the gifts you buy for people.

"Can't say unfortunately," you whisper, "or else it wouldn't be a secret."

You give him a smile that makes his stomach do a flip. "But I did get you something," you perk up.

You walk over to your bag and pull out a wrapped parcel, and carefully hand it over to him. "Thought you'd like it, took forever for it to ship over from overseas."

Minho examines the neatly wrapped box, wrapped in pink wrapping paper with a pink bow tied on top of the box. "Thank you," he sounds breathless.

He opens it carefully, and is met with a white box. He pulls the lid off and pulls out the cloth that sits on the bottom of the box. Revealing a white lab coat. The fabric is crisp and ironed. In the corner the text 'Dr. Minho Lee, PhD' is embroidered in black. Underneath the lettering is another embroidered patch. Instead of his name though, it's his three cats. Each of the cats looks identical to their real counterparts. "Sorry if it's stupid, I-" you apologize, "I just- I dunno-"

Stupid? It's the most thoughtful gift he has gotten in a long time. It comes from your heart, how could it be stupid.

You're the most beautiful and thoughtful person he's ever met. I love you, loved you for so long, he thinks to himself. He's so moved he almost feels like crying.

"Minho," you're quiet, stunned into silence.

He just realizes how his mouth has betrayed his mind, and his legs are moving with a panic.

The air is so damn dense as he sprints down the hall from the lab. The white fluorescent lights taunt him with their hum as he dashes away. Away from you, away from the chance that was all in his head.

He is gripping at the tie around his neck. He sees no comfort in the double doors out of the science lab, he is running without reason.

He breaks through the double doors and is soaked almost instantly. The snow is heavy and it patters against his body.

His legs stop moving, and he just stands there. In the snow. Terribly cold and terribly wet. He could curse God, but he doesn't believe in Him.

The doors behind him open and close. Doom blooms in his rapidly rising and falling chest. "Minho," it's you again, "Minho, you'll catch a cold."

His legs are frozen through. He couldn't move if there were a bear chasing him. He can't speak either. He's rendered silent. "Minho, it's about fucking time you confessed, b-because I-I l-love you too."

He can suddenly find the strength to face you.

When he does, the first thing he notices is your face. Mascara has soaked your cheeks, tear stains evident. "Y-huh? Wh-why are you c-crying?"

"Because I fucking love you," you sound weak- Minho never heard your voice sound so scared, "a-and you love me too? Did you mean it? You love me too?"

You're equally as soaked by the snow as he is. Your arms are crossed over your chest. He moves before he thinks, there really is nothing to think.

Hypothesis : you want him to kiss you. And according to the scientific method, he must test his hypothesis.

He's putting one foot in front of the other and moving to you. He wastes no time, simply cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss.

Sparks fly like shown in movies, his lips feel tingly and he can feel his heartbeat in every bone of his body.

Your lips are even softer than he imagined. Soft and molding against his own in ways that make him dizzy.

Like throwing a block of lithium into a pond, he feels like he may explode. Every atom in his body is undergoing a chain reaction that is so right he would never stop it.

"Love you," he's mumbling against your lips, "loved you for so long. You're everything I've ever wanted."

Tears brim his lashes, they nearly fall, but he is too elated to cry. "Minho," your voice is muffled by the sloppy kisses you're placing on his lips. You let out a groan and Minho's composure crumbles.

"Always been you," you hum, "since I met you, no one else."

All he had known until now had been decomposed and resynthesized. Like a chemical equation. He hates that he still thinks of you chemically.

Yet, he'd count every atom in your body so he could find out why you're so you. He's tear apart the heavens and the earth and chemically rearrange them just to see you smile.

Your bodies are melting together, forming a mixture of desperation, love, and lust. His hands are gripping every inch of your soft flesh available.

"Minho- mhm- take m-me home," you whimper into his mouth.

He kisses you one last time. He knows he will have this life, and the next to kiss you, he's in no rush.

His eyes finally open again, and he swears he has never seen a more beautiful sight. Your makeup is running down your face, and your lips are kiss bitten. Your body is pressed against his, and your hands are cupping his jaw. "H-home?" He stutters like a little kid.

"Your house," you grin, and he swears there's a mischievous glint in your eyes, "unless you don't wanna see me naked?"

If his jaw hadn't been on the floor before, it definitely was now. "God," he groans, "c'mon."

He's pulling you along with him, in the pouring snow, to his apartment. "If I catch a cold because of you, Lee Minho," you vaguely threaten.

"Then I'll nurse you back to health," he immediately replies.

You're both placing one foot in front of the other at a fast pace. When he sees his apartment around the corner, his heart thumps rapidly in his chest.

He doesn't struggle with the keys even though his hands are shaking beyond reasonable doubt. The warmth and comfort from his home is nothing compared to that which he gets from you.

He's stepping inside and pulling you in with him before slamming the door closed. A sudden fear rises in his chest, and any semblance of what to do next faded from his mind.

You notice this, you notice everything. "You okay?" you press your body against him.

You're both soaked from head to toe in cold water, yet you're so warm against him. "I-I?" he's stunned, like a dear in headlights.

You try and fail to hide the disappointment in your tone when you say, "do you not want t-"

He doesn't even leg you finish the sentence, "-I do. I do. I do. I-It's just not supposed to hap-happen like this."

"Please explain?"

"I - I have pictured, I've thought about us- us doing this, and I-I feel like I'm doing it wrong," you search his eyes for a clue as to what he means, "I mean-I just thought it would be so much more, romantic. N-not the confession, the- I just want to make it perfect for you."

"And how would you do that?"

"With rose petals and red wine and candles and-"

You shut him up with a kiss that is broken all too soon for Minho's preference, "you're such a dork, oh my god," you sigh playfully and hit his chest lightly, "I don't want roses or red wine, or candles. Minho, I want you. That's it."

"I-I," he stutters and can feel his cheeks heating up, "w-we should hop in the shower?"

"Excellent idea," you smirk.

Minho takes your hand in his and leads you to his bathroom, "sorry for the mess," he apologizes but knows that you won't mind.

He takes his eyes off you for only a moment to turn on the warm water, and when he turns back to you, you're halfway undressed. He swears he's never seen anything as beautiful as you.

You with your shirt and skirt in a heap on the floor, the only thing covering you is your underwear. Black cotton panties with lace hemmed on the side and a matching black bra.

You're reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra when he speaks up, "let me."

You smile at him and turn around, Minho's lips ghost down the side of your neck while his hands busy themselves, taking off your bra. He kisses down the back of your neck and your body shudders against his own.

You eagerly flip around and press your lips against his own. Now it's your hands that are pulling at his soaked shirt. You break the kiss but only for a moment, only so you can take off his shirt.

"Mhm," you moan into his mouth and Minho's grabbing at your sides like a madman.

His fingers hook under your panties and pull them down your legs.

And he finally gets a good look at your most sacred parts. They're more beautiful than his mind has ever painted them to be. Your breasts are soft to his touch, not too big nor too small. And your cunt, it looks tastier than a Sunday dinner in his eyes. His eyes rake down your happy trail that connects to your neatly trimmed bush and he wants to kiss it. He wants to kiss every inch of your skin.

He pulls down his boxers with his pants, and his semi-hard cock aches to be touched, to be inside you. You take his hand and step under the stream of water. He follows.

He'd follow you anywhere.

Hot water brings life to his cold skin. He's wrapping his arms around you, and his lips push against your own. "Where's the scar from?" you mumble the question between kisses.

"Had surgery wh-when I was a kid," he only stumbles over his words because your hand wraps around his cock and starts to slowly pump him.

He's so sensitive it hurts. Hurts all over. His body writhes at its own accord. "Your cock is so fucking pretty," you hum.

The words are filthy, but they sound as holy as the Pope's because they're said by you. "Baby- I-" you're so good at making him feel good.

Had you done this with someone else? Had you jerked them off in their shower? Had you ever brought another person this much pleasure?

Jealously pools in his chest at the idea of you with anyone that isn't him. "W-why are you so good at this? I-I just, please, wanna be the last. Can't handle the idea o-of you doing this to anyone but me," he confesses.

His sudden confession makes you falter and he tries to read the expression on your face, "last time I did this was before I met you, there's never been anyone since I met you. You were always gonna be it for me."

He almost sinks to his knees he feels so stupid. "D-do you want me to prep you?"

"There's no need, I promise," you smile at him.

You flip around, your body is pressed against his shower wall, the warm water hits his back and he swears he's never been more comfortable in his whole life.

He holds his cock in his hands and lines it up at your entrance. "You ready?" He can't help but sound a little cocky.

"God, Minho, just put it in," you whine.

His knees falter when he finally presses inside you, your walls are warm, inviting. You were right, you didn't need any prep.

"Oh, God," he groans even though he only has his tip in, "fuck, don't know how long I'm gonna last."

"Don't worry," you hum, a sharp squeak leaves your mouth when he stills all the way inside you.

He's buried so far in his cock is pressed up against your cervix. A shiver runs through his body when he finally thrusts inside you. You're tight and warm and so soft.

He's desperate, with every thrust of his hips he is losing every drop of his composure.

"Harder," you beg, "fuck me like you mean it."

His hips slam against your own, and you let out cries of pleasure as your body convulses against his own.

"Love you," you repeat the words like a mantra, they tumble from your lips with every thrust of his hips.

His hand wraps around your body and finds your clit. He would die if he didn't make you cum first. "Ah, jagi," he moans.

"Ah, Min- mama," you don't even realize what you're saying.

Mama? That was new, but he wouldn't protest. Not to you. Not in a million lifetimes.

"Mama, hmm?" Minho whimpers, "you wanna call me that?"

"Mhm," you nod your head furiously, "love you so much!"

How he loves you too.

His hand glides down your body and finds your swollen clit, he rubs it tenderly as his hips stutter in their movements. "Mama!" you squeal, "gonna cum!"

Minho can't warn you before he cums. He swears on everything he knows, this was the best sex he's ever had. His body convulses against yours and all that can be heard is the water hitting the shower and the both of your debauched breaths.

"Love you," you whisper.

Minho places a kiss on your spine, "I love you so much more, jagi. Merry Christmas."

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

There's a present under the Christmas tree that wasn't there two hours ago. 

It makes Tommy stand stiff as a poker in the doorway of his own living room, his mind full of possible break-in scenarios. However, the typical signs are missing. No ripped-out drawers, no shattered glass; and what burglar would bring instead of taking something? The somewhat sad little tree, which Tommy didn't actually want to put up in the first place but then did because it's Christmas after all, seems to shine a little brighter thanks to the present. 

Carefully, he approaches the tree under whose green branches the box lies. Its red wrapping, decorated with little Christmas trees, is reflected in the equally red and shiny Christmas baubles. Of course, there’s only one way to how the present got under the tree, only one person who’d be able to do it. Buck still has a key to Tommy's house. He hasn't been in touch since the break-up, and Tommy has missed the perfect time where you presumably ask for the things that the other person still has in their possession. 

The little red box bears Evan’s signature so much, it hurts. It is not particularly carefully packaged, although you can see he's made an effort. Instead of just buying a box, he has wrapped whatever is in the parcel in wrapping paper. It’s wrinkled, the small trees on it are uneven. Tommy can almost see it: Evan sitting at his kitchen table, his tongue between his half-open lips, concentrated in a tangle of adhesive tape. A man with such skillful hands, yet he simply can’t coordinate them. Hands that save lives but fail when cutting paper. Opposites that are downright confusing - and yet so attractive. 

Tommy lets out a sigh that echoes off the walls of his room, as if his own house is mocking him for his self-inflicted loneliness. He holds the small gift in his hands and wonders whether he should really open it. What’s the intention behind it? Why give him a present? The truth is, Evan had gifted him with his mere presence, probably without even knowing it. Getting that back would be a far greater gift than whatever may be in this box. 

The only problem is that he believes he doesn't deserve either. 

Tommy carefully pulls on the adhesive strip, runs a finger beneath the paper and very gently removes it. There is a plain white box underneath. Maybe it was a spontaneous idea to wrap it, but then why go to all the trouble for an undertaking that Evan also knows he hardly has mastered? Tommy's thoughts are on a rollercoaster, a constant up and down, and every steep descent causes tingles in his guts. 

Tommy shakes the box. There’s a soft tinkling sound inside, metal scraping against the cardboard of the box. He turns the box over in his hands, looks at it from all sides, but he is only delaying the inevitable, and he knows it. Opening the lid feels like tearing off a band-aid. Inside is a folded note on a layer of tissue, as green as the little trees on the wrapping paper, but not as green as the branches of  Tommy’s Christmas tree. Green as hope, maybe. 

Tommy,

I still see a future. E. 

Tommy stares at the note, his eyes actually looking right through it, far away; back to a time perhaps when he was less afraid. His fingers carefully feel their way over the tissue in the box. There’s still time to put aside the message, the box, the hope. Maybe he's too much of a coward for that, too. Tommy reaches under the paper, lifts it out of the box and tosses it aside. It gently slides under the tree, almost exactly where the present was. A sign, or not; everything is a sign or it isn’t. 

There’s a key in the box.

That’s not the key to Tommy’s house. Even if it would have been a weird way to return it like this, his deceptive heart feared just that for a moment. But it's also not the key to Evans Loft, because Tommy didn't give it back either. Silly, that they both had clung to this symbols so much. So, it’s neither his key nor Evan’s, and it only takes a quickening heartbeat longer for Tommy to realize. It really is a symbol, this key. One that not only relies on Tommy's curiosity, but also trusts that he will rise to the occasion. 

Suddenly, his phone is in his hands.

This the key to your heart, Evan? 

Bating his breath, he’s waiting for an answer.  

[ollyissleppy]

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞!

summary: it's finally here! Christmas has started it's time to enjoy some breakfast and open gifts with your loving boyfriend. Maybe one of the gifts under the tree is from him? a/n: I would like to wish everyone happy holidays and that you'll be able to spend them just the way you want, no matter if it's with family, friends or alone :) also thank you all so much for joining me on this adventure and I hope I'll see you some more <3 cw: none?

series masterlist

You feel something wet on you the moment you wake up. It takes you a while to figure out that they were kisses. You open your eyes and see your boyfriend, who has been kissing you all over your face. Rafayel notices that you're awake and smiles.

"Good morning" he gives you another kiss, this time on your lips.

"Morning" you smile at him, still waking up.

"We should exchange our gifts now" Rafayel moves away, reaching to his side of the bed and looking for something.

"No, Raf, we should wait till the evening like normal people" you stretch, feeling your muscles stirring awake.

"We're not normal people, though" Rafayel returns to your side and gives you a small box. "Anyway, here"

"Alright, let's do it now" you put the box he gave you on the bed and reach for the gift you had prepared for your boyfriend.

The two of you focus on opening your gifts, with Rafayel chaotically ripping the paper apart. You laugh, seeing how desperate he is to see that he got. You finally got rid of all the wrapping to see what's inside the small box. You slowly open it to reveal a beautiful handcrafted ring with your favourite minerals and metal in it. You gasp, unsure if you should take it out of the box, scared that you might break it.

"Rafayel, it's beautiful" you look over at your boyfriend, smiling at him.

"It's enchanted, so I can find you no matter where you go," he says, taking the ring out of the box and putting it on your finger.

"Even in the afterlife."

You were flipping another pancake, when you heard footsteps coming out of the bedroom, telling you that your boyfriend was awake. You turn to face him to greet him with a kiss.

"Can we exchange presents now?" He asks you after pulling away.

"I thought we'd wait until evening, but sure" you agree, finishing up the last pancake and turning off the stove.

The two of you go to grab the gifts you got each other and meet up in the kitchen. You meet up in the kitchen and give each other gifts. Yours was shaped like a rectangle. You carefully unwrap it to see a book with the words 'you&me' written on the cover. You open the book to see a picture you took while going to check out christmas lights. Around the picture there was a short message:

'From Xavier to (name).

Let's spend a 1000 more christmases with each other.'

You turn a few more pages to see even more pictures of the two of you with sweet messages written around. Some of those messages were saying how cute you looked, and some we saying how grateful Xavier was to be able to enjoy these moments with you.

"Do you like it?" He asks you and that's when you noticed that he was carefully watching your expression, his gift remaining unopened.

"Xav, I love it" you look at him with teary eyes, deeply touched by how thoughtful his gift was.

"I'd love to spend a 1000 more christmases with you."

Sylus wakes you up with a smack on your shoulder. You open your eyes annoyed, about to ask him what got his panties in a twist when he speaks:

"Do you hear that?" You focus your senses to check what he's talking about. At first, you can't really pick up anything, but then you hear it: some commotion in the living room.

You nod your head, letting Sylus know that you can hear it too. No words are exchanged between the two of you, as you grab your weapons and get ready to get rid of who is rummaging in the living room. Both of you make your way closer to the place where the noise came from. To your surprise, the noise wasn't some intruders trying to mess with something, but Kieran and Luke who happened to wake up bright and early, excited about their presents.

You and Sylus lower your weapons, looking at the twins who are surrounded by wrapping paper and checking out their gifts. You look over at your boyfriend with an amused look in your eyes.

"I see that you got into presents already" Sylus chuckles. His voice scares the twins, both of them jumping up, ready to explain themselves. "You're fine, we were thinking of opening them in the morning anyway."

Kieran and Luke still apologise for not waiting for you and Sylus to wake up. You brush them off, sitting down on the couch with your boyfriend. Kieran gives you a small box that was from Sylus and Luke gives him a gift you bought. You carefully open the box to see what's inside. Inside there was a beautiful locket with small details engraved in it. You opened the locket to reveal a picture with you and Sylus in it. It also happened to be one of the first pictures you took after you started dating.

"I love it, Sylus" you kiss his cheek. "But it better not have a tracker in it" you joke, making Sylus laugh.

"It has one, actually!" Kieran says, happy you understand. Luke smacks in the back of his head, telling him to be quiet.

"They're just joking around. You know how they get."

The smell of freshly cooked food is the first thing you register after waking up. The second thing you notice is the lack of your boyfriend on his side of the bed, letting you know that this is the person behind this delicious smell. You lay in bed for a little longer, before deciding to get up. You make your way to the kitchen to check out what Zayne is making.

"Good morning," you say, wrapping your arms around him from the back.

"Good morning, love" Zayne greets you, turning around to hug you back. "I was thinking that it would be best if we exchanged presents in the morning."

"Sounds good to me" you smile, pulling away to grab your gift.

The two of you are back in the kitchen, breakfast-making process stopped for the time being. Instead, both of you focus on each other's gifts. You watch Zayne for a bit, his unwrapping technique making you giggle about how careful he is not to rip the paper. You move your attention to the present before you. You start unwrapping it, although you were much less careful about not ripping the paper. With the paper out of the way, you notice that your gift is some sort of jewellery box. You open it to see the most beautiful-looking bracelet with some sort of screen on it.

"It shows your heart rate and it's connected to my phone to let me know if there's something wrong" Zayne says as he's helping you clip it around your wrist.

"It's perfect thank you." You kiss him across the table.

"Anything for you, my love."

taglist: @leighsartworks216 @faeryminnyx @iloveboysinred @sstar-ggirl @bellagrayson-wayne

[4linos]

home for the holidays.

bang chan x gn!reader

synopsis: it has always been difficult to celebrate christmas when you live far from your family. this year, however, chan surprises you with an unforgettable and heartwarming present that will make this christmas one you will always treasure.

wc: 815

part 6/8 holiday series. 🎄

You'd lived in your new city for years, and while you enjoyed your life with Chan and everything you'd built, there was always a subtle longing for your family back home.

The holidays, particularly Christmas, were the most challenging. The distance made it difficult to visit frequently, and while video conversations and messages were helpful, they weren't quite the same as being with them in person.

However, this year's Christmas felt different. Chan had been hinting at a big surprise for weeks, which had kept him both excited and secretive. He repeated it every chance he got, with a smile so wide that you couldn't help but share his excitement, even if you had no idea what he had planned. His enthusiasm was infectious, but you still didn’t know exactly what to expect.

Christmas morning arrived, and after a morning of gift exchanges and laughs with a cup of coffee, Chan brought you to the living room, where you sat on the couch with him in front of you. "Close your eyes," he instructed. You couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement in your chest, as if this was the moment you'd finally find out what he'd been talking about all month.

You waited with your eyes closed, the anticipation building, until you heard your parents' familiar voices. Your heart stopped for a second, and you quickly opened your eyes to see both of your parents standing in front of you with beaming smiles and arms wide open. They were here. In your home. Your family, who you hadn't seen in years, stood there in front of you. The shock of it all overwhelmed you, and you were unable to speak for a brief moment. Your hands shook somewhat as you gazed between them and Chan. "Chan... You—" You attempted to find the words, but your emotions had already taken over.

Chan smiled warmly and stepped forward to take you into an embrace, his arms warm around you. "I thought you deserved to have them here for Christmas," he added quietly, stroking a strand of hair away from your face. "I couldn't let another Christmas go by without you being with your family." Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at your parents, who were still standing there, astonished by your emotional outburst. They stepped forward, hugging you tightly, and you clung to them as if you couldn't believe they were real and that they were actually here.

After the shock settled, you all gathered around the table for breakfast. The whole time, your parents kept mentioning how this was all Chan’s idea. Your mom couldn’t stop talking about how thoughtful and generous he had been, always making sure they didn’t have to pay for their flights, insisting on taking care of everything.

“He wouldn’t let us pay for a single thing,” your mom said, eyes sparkling as she looked at Chan. “He wanted to make sure we could all be here with you. You’re lucky to have him.”

Your dad chuckled, nodding in agreement. "He's absolutely a keeper, honey. "You got yourself a good one." Your heart swelled as you gazed at Chan, who appeared humbled by their praise. He smiled at you, his palm softly resting on yours, and you felt overwhelmed with love and appreciation for everything he had done for you. You had known how wonderful he was before, but now you could see just how deeply he cared for you and your family, going out of his way to make this Christmas perfect. It wasn't only the great gesture of flying your parents out, but the attention to detail that made it so meaningful.

"I'm so thankful for you," you said to Chan, leaning in to tenderly kiss his cheek. He smiled and grasped your hand. "I'm just happy to see you happy."

As you spent the day laughing, eating, and reminiscing with your family, you couldn't help but reflect on how much your life had changed in the best way. Christmas, previously melancholy due to your distance from your family, had become a reminder of all the love in your life both from those close and far, and especially from the guy who had made it all possible.

Later, as you and Chan sat on the couch together, watching your parents happily converse in the next room, you looked to him with an appreciative smile. "You've given me everything I could ask for Christmas this year. Thank you for making this so wonderful."

He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. “You don’t need to thank me. Seeing you so happy is the best gift I could ask for.”

And with that, you knew that no matter what the future held, this Christmas would be one to remember forever as a perfect moment in time, filled with love, laughter, and the warmth of family.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Favorite Gifts

Summary: You and Dean know exactly what you want for Christmas...just each other.

Pairing: Dean x Reader (You)

Warnings: None. Kissing. Fluff. Pretty much all fluff. (Very brief mentions of child abduction. This fic is all fluff, rest assured, but I don't want to take any chances on a possible trigger.)

Word Count: 657

A/N: All I want for Christmas is Dean, and I know I'm not alone. So, I'm offering this up as a little Christmas present. Enjoy!! Merry Christmas!!

P.S. I wrote this quickly around all the Christmas Eve busy-ness, so please excuse any mistakes! ❤️

Dean Master List || Christmas Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

You'd gone to sleep that Christmas Eve, alone in Dean's bed. It felt enormous and empty, but at least it smelled like him.

He'd called earlier in the day to tell you that he and Sam were no closer to tracking down the weird, unknown monster, that was snatching up children and leaving their parents terrified and distraught.

It wasn't a case they could postpone or walk away from without winning. It broke your heart that you'd be celebrating Christmas alone in the big drafty bunker. But you forced yourself to think of the poor parents whose little ones weren't going to be home on Christmas morning, and you knew your heartbreak paled in comparison.

So, you'd simply resigned yourself to the situation and closed your eyes not long after midnight, and proceeded to toss and turn for a couple of hours before finally falling asleep.

You'd only been sleeping for a few hours when Dean slid himself in behind you on the bed. At first you simply incorporated him into your dreams, easy to do since he lived there every night when he was away anyway.

You sighed softly as his hard, warm body fitted itself around you, enveloping you within his strong arms. But slowly, small things began to pierce through the veil of your sleep. You inhaled the scent of him - gunpowder and mint - that your sleeping brain could never quite get right.

When he nuzzled his lips along your neck, the shiver that coursed through you was so much more vivid than your imagination could ever conjure, that it woke you up completely.

Your eyes popped open and you wrenched yourself up and away from him so that you could turn around to see him for real. When his cheeky, lopsided grin spread across his face you gasped.

“Heya sweetheart.” He said warmly, making you screech like a banshee and launch yourself into his arms.

You wanted to ask him how he'd managed to get back in time for Christmas morning, but you couldn't manage it; you were too busy smothering his face in kisses.

He was laughing under your onslaught, but eventually he rolled on top of you, grasping your cheeks in his big hands and holding you still so he could kiss you properly.

His lips moved on yours skillfully, teasing your mouth open and then sweeping his tongue inside, inhaling you and swallowing down your little mewls of satisfaction.

When he pulled away you were crying; you'd been sick with missing him, and now that he was here, you could hardly believe your senses.

Dean understood your happy tears, he saw them often. So he just thumbed them away as you took a shuddering breath.

“How did you get here?” A sudden thought hit you and your stomach lurched. “The kids…”

Dean shook his head and smiled at you. “No, they're fine. All of them. Home with their moms and dads, getting ready to open their presents. Monster's gone.”

He clicked his tongue as he made a slashing gesture across his throat with his thumb.

“So, I put the pedal to the medal and me and Sammy got home just a few minutes ago.” He sniffed at himself. “Sorry, probably shoulda showered.” He joked

But you shook your head and pulled him down to kiss him again. “No.” You mumbled against his lips. “I like you just like this. Fresh from the fight and tangled up in me.”

He hitched your leg up to his hip so he could press tightly into the warm apex of your thighs.

He moaned softly. “I like you just like this too. Soft, smelling like sleep, and all wrapped around me.”

He kissed you a little longer and then settled you against his chest.

“God, I missed you sweetheart. Just so you know, whatever's under the tree, you're always gonna be my favorite gift.”

The happy tears were back as you nuzzled into his neck and whispered back. “And you're mine. Easily. Merry Christmas, Dean.”

Tags Under the Cut:

@lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused @jzackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

@arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78 @kr804573

@whimsyfinny @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

@aylacavebear @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl

@hobby27 @waywardcheshire @livya99 @k-slla @leigh70

@eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @stoneyggirl2

@fanfic-n-tabulous @traiitorjoe @lastcallatrockysbar @b3autyfuld1sast3r

[ghost-proofbaby]

Something my family always did was qe would open presents very carefully because we had to reuse wrapping paper (we were poor) and reuse bows. We didn't get much st Christmas but it always meant something to me as a kid. There were times my parents got nothing just so me and my sister could have something.

I can see Eddie being raised the same by Wayne

i absolutely agree with this. it was harder in my household since we always bought such cheap paper that ripped if we even breathed on it, but bows? always reuse. name tags? save them. any sort of gift bags? don't even think about throwing those away.

and i just... it's nice to think about Eddie being raised that way as well? like a sense of comfort in knowing he wouldn't give us a weird glance when we still do it, even if now we're not in the same position of necessity.

also, i can so clearly picture the first christmas where wayne does this, only his second christmas with eddie. and he's just downright scared. which is weird, because why is the weight in his chest turning so heavy at the thought of letting his nephew down? just this thirteen year old boy who's gone through hell, whose standards might just be six feet under. but it's all he can think about, all he can worry about, as he's wrapping up that damn guitar so carefully. eddie's only gift that year - the only item he'd even brought up in the last six months. and wayne had spent his entire check on it, no room left for frivolous wrapping or shiny new bows. wayne is reusing last year's paper, using an insane amount of tape he'd borrowed from a neighbor to patch up any and all tears his shaking hands make in his rush to wrap the guitar in time.

and you know what? eddie would notice.

make a small comment, saying "is this last year's paper?". and i can feel wayne's heart dropping as he waits for eddie to be upset but then the boy does this easy thing, something wayne watches him do many more times over the years, where he turns it into something positive.

"sick," he'd say, with a toothy grin and buzzed head, eyes genuinely shining as he looks up at wayne, "this paper is sick. i'm so glad you found it again this year."

wayne doesn't have to tell him to carefully unwrap the gift. because eddie wasn't stupid at thirteen, and he knew had to still his shaking hands just long enough to not leave a single extra tear in that paper, just in case wayne needs it next year. he doesn't mind - he's just glad to be celebrating the holidays again with someone who cares.

but it's all over when eddie sees that guitar. wayne expected shrieking or yelping or just... he doesn't really know, just anything. but all he sees is some kid with hair that's a little bit longer this year, shoulders a little less slumped, and tears pouring down.

"son-" he'd start, not even sure how to comfort the boy but needing to.

eddie does the last thing wayne had expected. the boy had been distant since showing up at the trailer, keeping to himself quite a bit, flinching away from touch. but for the first time in over a year, eddie doesn't flinch away.

he launches himself at wayne.

hugs him through his tears, just babbling out his thanks on repeat. they both agree to never talk about it again after the tears dry, and wayne even sheds a few of his own. but something melts that night for them - jokes happen easier, awkward side hugs and messing of eddie's blooming curls as wayne leaves for his shifts are more frequent. every damn day he hears him playing on that damn guitar, even without an amp. the next christmas wayne gets him the amp, another lonely present, wrapped in the same paper (probably for the final time -- it's seen far better days and he's pretty sure eddie could see the gift through one of the torn corners two days before christmas even came) and eddie once again makes a comment about how lucky it is wayne can still find that paper in stores. they both know the truth, and neither really care.

eddie keeps that guitar for the rest of his days, adorned with the nickname of Sweetheart. and they keep reusing paper, both knowing it was more than some bit but deciding to make jokes all the same as if they were actively choosing to do so. it makes it all a bit easier.

eddie doesn't care if wayne never has another dime to spend on another present for him, or can ever wrap another gift. he'll take his damn christmas presents in paper bags if it came down to it, cause the love is there, and god, he had missed that.

[theinheriteddutchess]

A Different Christmas

Part two of Dreams can come True

Summary: it's Christmas and Lee and you spend it together

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x reader

Word count: 1216

Warnings: some smut, just just fluff, neurodivergent reader, alpha/Omega

Notes: well here's some fluff for the lovers 🤭 happy holidays everyone!💕🎄

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

He's sitting in his comfortable chair, whiskey in his hand - his first and only - watching the scene in front of him.

His belly is full with the amazing dinner his wife prepared, just like it was every day after he claimed her.

The house is decorated with tinsel and in the corner is a tree with little ornaments, with candles, and glittery decorations throughout the living room.

Last year he sat alone in the dark, drinking away his sorrows, and thinking of his dreams of his own family.

This year it has all come true.

He got his dream girl, he's got a happy home, and he's going to be a father soon.

His wife is kneeled on the floor, surrounded by the presents he got her. The look on her face one of excitement, and it looks like she's emanating a glow. She shines, at least in his eyes.

His chest warms with his emotions. He didn't think he was capable of loving a person as much - the cold bastard that he is. 

But she's been everything to him.

She, and the little bub that would soon arrive. A real family.

He'd make sure they'd be taken care of, that they know they were loved and protected. Want for nothing.

“Oh Lee, it's so pretty!” He was pulled out of his thoughts by the exclamation.

“You shouldn't have, it's way too expensive. You already gave me so much.” her face was lit up with happiness, as she held up the necklace carefully. 

Her eyes were intense, like she was going feral, and he knew she needed a break to calm down before she got overwhelmed with all the sensations.

“Come here, let me put it on you,” he smiled and sat up straighter. 

She walked over and held the necklace out for him to take, and turned. Instead, he grabbed her and carefully placed her on his lap. She squeaked, but settled down against his chest. He unclasped the lock and lifted the necklace over her head and carefully locked it again. His big fingers were struggling with the tiny mechanism for a bit. She hummed and touched the sparkly jewels in awe. 

“It's so pretty,” she mumbled again. 

“Not as pretty as you, sweetheart,” he said truthfully, meaning every word. 

“Oh Lee…” she tutted. “No, I'm-”

He turned her face towards him. “Beautiful! I don't want to hear a bad word about my wife, you get that? Not one. She's perfect in my eyes and it would hurt me if anyone says differently. Even you.”

She lowered her eyelashes bashfully, but nodded like the good girl she was. Always willing to please him if it made him happy. 

“How about we get some hot cocoa? That's a must at Christmas, isn't it?”

She lit up again. “Yes. It is. We always use a lot of whipped cream at home and -” she fell silent. 

“We'll see your parents tomorrow, honey. Just wanted to spend first Christmas day with my wife. But we got whipped cream, take as much as you want.”

“I worry they'll be lonely,” she whispered a little smally.

“They’re together, it's only one day,” he shushed her. “ And they'll forget it as soon as you give them the gift we got them.”

She smiled again. “They'll think it was too expensive.”

It was. “Well, they deserve it. They're good people. Raised their daughter well. They deserve a break.”

A nice trip outside of the city. His way of trying to make amends. Maybe, if it all went well, they could plan something for the whole family. Right now, he wasn't sure if they'd appreciate seeing his face everyday. He hoped the little one would soften any resentment left of him taking their daughter. Or better said, the deceit he used to take her.

He sighed, but smiled, as he saw her hurry to the kitchen to prepare the treat for the both of them. She was getting so big, he figured he should start doing it instead. Take off the load. Pamper her more.

The men at work already thought he did, that he turned into a right sap, but it wasn't enough. He hated the thought she was exerting herself too much. She said she liked caring for him. He read the books though, and talked to the doctor. Her body was changing, aching, it would become difficult to move. He wasn't going to watch her struggle. He'd let her provide for now, and after tonight insist on doing it himself. If he demanded it she would let him. She listened so sweetly. 

He cleared his throat and changed his position, feeling himself stir in his pants. It was unavoidable with her around, her scent heavy in the air. Happy Omega. Pregnant Omega. His. He groaned, his thoughts not helping him calm down. 

She popped her head out of the kitchen. Eyes Wide. Dilated. “Lee?” She asked unsure. She must've smelled him.

“ I…I just want,” he mumbled helplessly. Her scent thickening made his brain numb..

“Alpha,” she murmured shyly, looking down coyly, but he knew this was her way of asking. 

“Come here,” he croaked, spreading his legs.

She squeaked shortly, before rushing over. Well, as much as she could, with a belly full of his child. His cock jumped at that thought. He started sweating with how quickly his body was heating up. She moved in front of him. Biting her lip, looking away. Overwhelmed with the intensity of the energy between them. 

“Take off your clothes,” he ordered, opening his belt as his eyes never left her face. 

A breathy gasp was released, as her fingers fumbled with her buttons. She was still demure, quick to be embarrassed, but she did it anyway. Eyes now firmly placed on his crotch, as she did what he asked. With each piece of skin she revealed, he felt like he could come untouched. She was so beautiful, her smell in his nose, driving him crazy.

When she was completely bare, except for the necklace falling perfectly around her neck, he beckoned her with a finger. She climbed on his lap, smearing her slick on his pants and he groaned as she touched his dick as she settled.

“Take me,” he mumbled. 

That was it. Her eyes dazed as she locked them with his, and her hand reached between them to grip him and lead him to her heaven.

It felt too much, as she dank down on him, taking him all in.

“Lee,” she moaned, delighted. 

This would never be enough. He would never tire of her. Never stop loving her. She was everything, and he would give her his all.

As she moved, and he bucked up, she came to completion so quick, it stirred his ego with the knowledge he did this to her. He had this effect on her. He was enough. She loved him.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said, in between thrusting. 

“ Oh, oh, oh!” Was all she could say and with how slurred it was, it sounded a little bit like ‘ho ho ho’.

He pressed his lips on her forehead, hiding his smirk. 

The perfect Christmas, one they would have every year from now on. Him and his girl. He couldn't think of a better gift.

Part 3

Taglist: @thezombieprostitute

@bitchymama

@allthenobodyppl-fics

@caplanbuckybarnes

@clancycolzig

@littlelovebug98

[astro-b-o-y-d]

If that gloves thing in TBOB taught me anything, it's that Fiddleford 100% fell first and fell HARD

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

I think the reader's response to this post is probably going to either be "That's incredibly minor" or "Holy shit YES I'M ALSO PROUD", depending on people's personal experiences with academia, but:

Today I am incredibly proud of one of my students.

In the interests of disguising identities, let's call them Ceri. Ceri is one of my third year undergrads (meaning their final year, for anyone unfamiliar with UK uni systems.) They transferred to us last year, and within two weeks I was giving them the contact info to get to Student Services and get themself screened for ADHD; they have some mental health struggles, but I clocked pretty quickly that they STRUGGLE with procrastination, and punctuality, and attending 9am lectures in particular. Naturally, as is the way of my people, it took them a further four months to remember to go to the screening. Lol. Lmao. Rofl, in fact.

But, they did it eventually! Their screening lit up like a Christmas tree at the ADHD section, and they got a free laptop and optional one week extensions and a study support worker named Claire. This has helped tremendously, and although mental health + until-then-unsupported ADHD meant their academic profile had slid sideways somewhat, with the new tools available and a couple of resits they passed the year and hit this year running.

Until, that is, the last fortnight.

Now, I take them for a Habitat Management module that has two assessments: an academic poster presentation before Christmas, and a site-specific management plan in May. Naturally this means we are at that happy point in the year for the poster presentations. I give out the briefs at the start of the year, so they've had them since October; I've also been periodically checking in with them all for weeks, to make sure they don't have any major burning questions. The poster presentation was to pick a species reintroduction project, pull the habitat feasibility study out of it, and then critique that study; Ceri chose to look at the hen harrier reintroductions proposed for the southern UK. All good.

Which brings us nicely to today! Ceri's presentation is scheduled for 2.30. At 11am-1pm, I am lecturing the first years on Biodiversity, while Ceri is learning about environmental impact assessment with a colleague I shall call Aeron. This means we are separately occupied during those same hours.

Nevertheless, Aeron messages me at about 12.

"I think Ceri needs to see you after your lecture," he writes. "They're panicking, I genuinely think they might cry. I'm worried. Are you free at 1?"

I say I am. At 1, I get lunch and sit in the common area; Ceri comes to see me. To my personal shame, imagine all of the following takes place while I stuff my face with potato.

Now: this part is going to be uncomfortably familiar to anyone who has ever tried higher education with ADHD, especially unmedicated. It certainly was for me. All I can say is, I never had the courage to take the step here that Ceri did.

"I have to confess," they said quietly, and Aeron was right, they were fighting back tears. "My mental health has been so, so bad for the last fortnight. I've left it way, way too late. I don't have anything to present."

"Nothing at all?" I asked.

"I've been researching," they said helplessly. "I found loads on the decline of the hen harrier. But it wasn't until last night that I finally found a habitat feasibility study to critique. Generally... I've been burying my head about it, and it just got later and later. I thought I should come in for Aeron's lecture, and I should at least tell you."

This part is a minor thing, right? But honestly, I remember being in the grip of that particular shame spiral. I never did manage to tell my lecturers to their faces. I just avoided. I honestly can't imagine having the courage it took them to come in and tell me this, rather than just staying home and avoiding me.

"I think..." they said hesitantly, "I know I can submit up to a week late, for a capped mark. I think I need to do that, and apply for extenuating circumstances. But then I'll have both Aeron's assignment and yours due at the same time."

Which meant they would crumble under the pressure and likely struggle to pass both; so me, being as noble and heroic as I unarguably am, stopped eating potato and said, "Let's make that plan B."

(It was good potato. I am a hero.)

So, we made plan A: I moved their timeslot to 4.30, giving them three and a half hours. The shining piece of luck in this whole thing was that this was the crunch time assignment - if it had been Aeron's, they'd have had to try and write a 3000 report in that time. But for me, all they had to write was an academic poster, and those things are light on words by design. We found them a Canva template, and then we quickly sketched out a recommended structure based on the brief: if it's habitat feasibility, look at food availability, nesting site availability, and mortality risks in the target release site. Bullet point each. Bullet point how well the study assessed each. Write a quick intro and conclusion. Take notes as you go, and present the poster itself at 4.30.

"You think I should try?" they asked doubtfully, looking like I'd just asked them to go mano-a-mano with a feral badger.

"If you run out of time, so be it," I said. "But your brain is trying to protect you from a non-existent tiger. That's why you've procrastinated - it's been horrible, and you've been shame spiralling, and your brain is trying to shield you from the negative experience; but it's the wrong type of help for this situation! So while you're sitting there working on it, hating life, every time your brain goes 'This is hopeless, I can't do it', you think right back 'Yes I can, it just sucks.' And you carry on. Good?"

"Good," they said. "I'm going to mainline coffee and hole up in the library. Enjoy your potato."

And then, of course, I had to go and watch the other students' presentations, so that was the end of me being any help at all. I spent all afternoon wondering if they were going to manage it, or if I would be getting a message at 4.25 telling me they'd failed, and would have to submit late and hope for an EC.

And Tumblrs

Tumblrs

Let me FUCKING tell you

They turned up at 4.15, fifteen minutes early, wearing a mask of grim, harrowed determination and fuelled by spite and coffee, and they pulled up that poster and started presenting and yes, okay, I'll admit their actual delivery was dramatically unpolished and yes, they forgot to include the taxanomic name for the hen harrier on the poster and yes, fine, I admit that there were more than a few awkward moments where they lost their place in their hastily scribbled notebook but LET ME FUCKING TELL YOU -

They smashed it. It was well-critiqued, it had a map, it had full citations, it had a section on the hen harrier's specific ecology and role in the ecosystem, it had notes on their specific conservation measures. They described case studies they'd read about elsewhere. They answered the questions we threw at them with competence and depth. There was analysis. All that background research they'd done came right to the fore. They were even within the time limit by 15 seconds.

You would never have known they'd produced it in three hours, from a quivering and terrified mess fighting the bodily urge to dehydrate via tear ducts. After they left, the second marker and I looked at each other and went "So that was a 2:1, right?"

I caught up with Aeron downstairs and he was beaming. Apparently Ceri had seen him on their way out, and had gone over to talk to him. Aeron said the difference between the Ceri of this morning and the Ceri of then was like two different people; in four hours, they'd gone from their voice literally breaking as they admitted the problem, ashamed and broken, to being relaxed and happy and smiling.

"I reckon I've passed," they apparently told Aeron, pleased. "Maybe even a 2:2. There's things I wish I'd had the time to do better, but I'll be happy if I passed."

They won't know until late January what they got, because we're not allowed to release marks until 20 term days after hand-in, and the Christmas holidays are about to hit. But I'm really hoping I can be there when they're released.

But mostly, I'm just... insanely proud of them. I cannot tell you how happy I am. And I know, I know, obviously this is not a practice I would want to see them do regularly, or indeed ever again, and it only worked because they were fucking lucky with the assignment format, but like... when life is just punching you in the face, and you hit a breaking point... isn't it nice? That just this once, you pull off a miracle, and it's fixed? The disaster you thought was about to ruin you is gone? To get that relief?

Anyway. Super super proud today.

[mecachrome]

notes from nicole piastri's interview on red flags pod

oscar started playing monopoly and chess when he was 4-5 but he was too good at chess (relative to nicole) that she boycotted it

nicole opened her twitter account because oscar wasn't replying to her at boarding school and she needed a place to chastise him ("can you not answer... i KNOW you're on your phone") (it worked because he started replying to her there)

instead of unflappable she calls him "conservative"

even during christmas and birthdays he was never super excited, one time they went with a group of 5 mums and 5 kids to a hi-5 concert (popular australian kids' musical group) and while all the kids were "going nuts" oscar just sat there "focused the whole time" and didn't smile or move lmfao. they were like 3 years old

didn't know what she was doing with oscar as a baby because he was her first child and her mothers' group was her only reference and they went "isn't the best part of the day when you wake up and go to their crib and they smile at you?" and she was like ??? because oscar would wake up and just SCREAM every single day needing to be out of there immediately and she thought that was just normal... then she had the girls and went "ahhhh... so that's what they're talking about"

when he was younger than 2 he needed them to read car magazines to him and was already obsessed with all things automotive and while they were driving would just name off and point out car brands by their badges

for a long period of time he behaved like he was a car and would "spin" his wheels and pretend to accelerate and run like a car lol

did a big burnout the first time he was on a bike (it had training wheels but he still learned very early)

as a mum she wishes he'd chosen golf or tennis since it's much safer than f1 and sometimes people tell her that she technically had a say in that when he was a kid and she said "but i didn't! it was just in him!!!"

won an academic award when he was 13 and she was president of the parents' community so she presented it to him, normally these events are super formal and you simply shake hands but she gave him a big kiss and instead of acting embarrassed or spluttering he looked at the crowd, nodded silently, and walked off

came back for the summer a few years ago and they were biking on the beach together when she had to brake hard to avoid a kid and went over, when she recovered and got back on he went "are you all right?" very deadpan but after they got home they checked his heart rate monitor and saw that he was totally steady the whole time except for when she crashed and his heart rate went through the roof, told him "ah so you do have a heart... we just don't see it"

"there's no sibling that can piss him off?" "well he's a boy with three girls so he just doesn't go there because he's never going to win"

met lily in person for the first time when he came home for the melbourne grand prix (was still alpine reserve), at midnight oscar was like "hey mum you know the dts film crew are coming tomorrow morning right?" and she was like WHAT... and he was like yeah it'll be chill they just want to film us having breakfast like a normal family or whatever and she was like Mate you haven't lived here for 5 years now do you know what breakfast looks like. it looks like your sisters storming downstairs and grabbing an inappropriate breakfast and storming out the door giving me the finger!!! and then the next morning lily comes down and nicole is like "oh is oscar up?" and lily is like no... i think he's still in bed... (many such cases) and then mae refused to be in it so she got dressed and ran off to school 2 hours early to escape them. and then the mclaren fiasco happened and the whole thing got cut out of dts anyway

when she said "oh my god you met matt damon!" he was just like (shrugs) "yeah... yeah..."

they communicate by facetiming and he's Always lying in bed. one time in bahrain he was leaning back on an ornate tapestry and she asked what hotel he was staying at and he was like oh i'm at the royal palace i'm like a guest of the crown prince. she freaked out and was like "oh my god!!! get your head off the tapestry!!!" and he just looked back like ? no it's fine it looks pretty old lol

called her to tell her that he signed his f1 contract and when he said mclaren she Realized and was like oh no i love daniel!! and he straight up deadpanned "yeah everyone loves daniel. that's going to be a problem..." and said verbatim "of all the f1 drivers ever daniel is the worst one to be replacing"

one time in f4 chris couldn't go to a race and billy monger had just had his crash so she flew to the uk for the weekend to support him and when she was driving him back to boarding school she was happy because she had 2 hours to spend with him and she wasn't sure when she'd see him again but instead he slept the whole way through and the moment they got back to school he went "ahhhh... home sweet home" and she wanted to slap him lmfao

first day of primary school when he was 5 years old he said he didn't need her to walk him to school and she was like "well i actually do mate" so he forced her to walk behind him the whole way and the moment they got there he turned to her and went "all right i'm here you can go now" 😭

the chinese & italian & yugoslavian is on chris's side of the family while nicole's is scottish & irish ("that's where the pasty skin comes from")

red flags pod sent her a shirt with oscar's face composed of His Tweet and she showed it to him and he immediately said he wanted it

he gave her a small warning before he posted the tweet but it was just like "mum so this is going to happen just don't worry about it. it's all under control. it'll be fine" and was very calm the whole time

"we just had to trust that his personality would come through at some point, because the way he came across was not at all what he's like. people will work out who the real you is so just continue to do what you do" 🥺

all of the kids were obsessed with Cars (2006)

likes his mum's golden syrup dumplings and grandmother's rumballs

AT THE SINGAPORE GP IN 2023 HATTIE DISAPPEARED FOR HOURS TO GO SEE A K-POP CONCERT 😭😭😭😭 i think it was p1h lmfao (nicole was asked for her favorite group and went "i have no idea. five boys") ((it's txt)) meanwhile oscar is only into house music and she thinks everything he plays is the same song

did pilates when he went home but never with her and thinks it's a lot harder than it looks

takes him minimum 24 hours to respond to anything she sends

she had an exact conversation with oscar where she asked who he wanted to be teammates with and he said "well if i go up against lando i don't even have to get close the first year because everyone knows how good he is" 😭

oscar you are so you 🧡

[woso-dreamzzz]

Second Time's The Charm: Christmas

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: Christmas in the STTC Universe

"Alexia!" Mapi shrieks," Alexia! Stop ignoring me! Alexia!"

Alexia hums to herself, hunched over her phone as she scrolls through another website.

Mapi, however, forces her way through mountains and mountains of stacked boxes to get to the other side of the room.

The locker room is covered in boxes from top to bottom with some even crammed into areas that they really shouldn't be able to be forced into.

"Ale! Alexia!"

Alexia looks up in shock. "Oh! Mapi! When did you get here?"

"About ten minutes ago! Which you would know if you didn't have this place stocked up like the back room of a shoe shop!"

Alexia frowns. "What do you mean? There's only five boxes of shoes here."

"I wasn't being literal!" Mapi snaps before massaging her temples with her hands. "What is all this stuff?! And why is it here?!"

"They're presents," Alexia says it like Mapi's dumb," For Christmas."

"Obviously but why are they here?"

"Well, I couldn't leave them at home. Maya's in that exploring stage so she'd get curious and try to look through them. And Elena's learning to crawl and this stuff would just get in way."

"So you thought that you would put all the presents for your whole family in here? With us?"

"No," Alexia scoffs," Don't be silly, Mapi."

"This is only temporary then? Thank god because I-"

"This is only Maya's gifts. Elena's are in one of the meeting rooms and y/n's are hidden at Alba's...Mapi? Are you okay? Your face is turning an odd colour."

Mapi's dramatic walk off is hindered somewhat by smacking her nose straight into a pile of boxes and nearly falling back into another one but, eventually, she manages to storm out and straight upstairs to your office.

You're sitting in your desk chair, looking through player health files or something when the door is slammed open.

"Your wife is crazy!"

"And hello to you too, Mapi. Come on in!"

"Crazy!" Mapi repeats, pacing in short, aggravated circles," She's crazy! The locker room is covered! Covered! In Christmas presents for your daughter! You have to get her to stop!"

You don't have a time to reply because the door swings open again and Alexia bursts in.

"Amor!" She cries," I found the cutest little booties for Elena! Look! Look!"

"No..." Mapi says softly," No...This-This can't be happening..."

"They're so cute!" You tell Alexia with equal enthusiasm," She'll love them so much! Order them! Order them!"

Alexia types in the delivery address and her card details and orders it happily before looking up.

"Where did Mapi go?"

It's a question that neither of you really dwell on that much as you show Alexia your own present ideas.

Wrapping the presents the night before isn't an easy task and you get the feeling that you and Alexia might have gone just a bit overboard. It's only a fleeting thought as you and Alexia wrap the boxes and tie them off with bows, writing sweet messages to your daughters on them even though neither of them can read just yet.

"We're all sleeping together tonight, right?" Alexia asks as she finishes off her last present, placing it in Elena's sizable pile.

"Us and the girls, definitely," You agree," I'm not sure if you'll get all the dogs and Mr Stinky in bed with us."

Mr Stinky looks up from his spot on the special pillow that's reserved just for him on the sofa. The tumours on his body have gotten much bigger now and he's getting weaker and weaker by the day.

He's got one more scan to come back to see if anything can be done but this could be his very last Christmas.

"Mr Stinky won't mind," Alexia assures you," He loves cuddling in our bed."

"And Lady?"

"Lady loves cuddling too!"

"And Sinky and his sisters?"

Alexia purses her lips. The puppies are still a bit wild and excitable at times, none of them ever content to just stay in one place even though the bed is more than big enough for everyone to fit into it.

"We'll leave the bedroom door open," Alexia says sagely, nodding her head like she's just cracked the secrets of the universe," So they can come in if they want."

"Alright," You say, standing up and stretching your back," I'm going to bring Mr Stinky up and then grab Elena. You'll let the dogs out one last time and get Maya?"

Alexia nods, drawing you back for a moment by your waist to press a kiss to your lips.

"I will, amor."

"Good," You say," And hurry up."

Alexia nods along with a smile, already heading to open the back door for the dogs.

Your footsteps approaching again makes Alexia turn and you speak directly in her ear.

"And I've got a very special present for you tomorrow when the girls have gone to sleep."

"Oh?"

You giggle right in her ear, low and sultry. "You're going to have a lot of fun unwrapping me for Christmas."

[archangeldyke-all]

Idea: Isha thinks Santa is real and is horrified of him because she thinks he doesn’t like her because she never celebrated before as well, she was a kid in the mines.

When decorating time rolls around she’s all pouty and sad until you and Sev confront the poor baby.

this is so fucking funny hahahaehhhaheahe

men and minors dni

it's christmas eve.

your family doesn't do the traditional christmas, especially since your family wasn't even a family this time last year.

you and sevika's usual christmas tradition is a nice homemade meal by the fire, maybe exchanging a few gifts, ending the night in your matching mr. and mrs. claus lingerie (just two santa hat and whatever red underwear you can find.)

but now you've got the girls, so you're trying to get a little more festive.

jinx and isha drug home a fallen pine tree branch a few days ago, decorating it with streamers and paper snowflakes they made themselves.

you and sevika splurged on christmas lights, hanging them on your front porch and lining the walls of your home with the multi-colored twinkles. of course, you've both been hoarding gifts for the girls-- anything and everything you could find that you thought they might enjoy you've piled up in the you and sevika's super secret hiding spot (under the bed) waiting to be wrapped tonight when the girls go to sleep.

it's been fun!

isha's been endlessly enchanted by the sparkly lights lining the streets, she squeals each time she sees a rudolph or snowman decoration, and she's obsessed with all the sweet treats that come around with this time of year. hot chocolate, christmas cookies, candy canes-- isha loves it all.

jinx has been having a wonderful time introducing isha to all the fun traditions that come around with the season. she custom made herself and isha matching stockings (she made you, vi, and sevika stockings too-- but none of them were quite as sparkly and fun as isha's.) she's been referring to the little girl as her 'elf'-- isha always bursts into giggles when she does. and when there's fresh snow-- jinx has been bundling the little girl up and dragging her outside to introduce her to the joys of snowballs and snowmen and snow angels.

so, overall, you've all been feeling pretty jolly.

but... you're starting to get a little worried tonight, because isha's been becoming increasingly restless.

you've got the fire going, christmas music playing on the radio, the four of you sharing a plate of cookies and sipping on eggnog in matching flannel jammies.

isha's frowning down at her feet, a worried furrow in her brow.

jinx is fighting off sleep on the couch, sevika's stoking the fire. you reach out and nudge the little girl's shoulder.

"you okay, baby?" you ask. sevika blinks over at the pair of you concern on her face as she looks at isha.

isha blinks up at you with anxious eyes. what is santa? she signs.

you look at your wife, the two of you having a panicked, telepathic conversation.

should we tell her he's not real? sevika's face reads.

you shrug. she's only five, she deserves at least one year of believing, don't you think? you ask with a quirk of your brow.

sevika sighs and gestures for you to speak. you giggle.

"santa's an old man who lives in the north pole, making toys all year with the help of his elves. on christmas eve, when we're all sleeping, he travels across the world using magic and flying reindeer, leaving presents for well-behaved kiddos just like you!" you explain happily.

only, isha looks horrified.

he comes in our house when we're sleeping!? she signs. sevika chuckles. what if he robs us?

"nah, kid, santa's a jolly old man. he's not a thief. he's been doin' this for hundreds of years and he's i've never heard of anyone getting robbed by santa." sevika says.

isha still looks skeptical. okay... but what about the song? he sees me when i'm sleeping and knows when i'm awake? how?

sevika snorts. "you're awfully smart for a five year old." she says, ruffling her hair. "santa's magic kid, 's how it all works." she explains.

isha hums, kicking her feet and digesting the new information. jinx snorts awake, blinking around and trying to pretend she's been awake the whole time.

what if he doesn't like me? isha signs.

your heart breaks a little, and you wrap your arm around her. "why wouldn't santa like you, kiddo? you're a great little girl. way better than jinx-- and jinx never got coal."

"hey!" jinx protests.

isha giggles a bit, then she frowns again, a tear trailing down her cheek. but... he never left me presents before.

your heart shatters. beside you, sevika lets out a heartbroken whimper.

"oh, isha baby..." you coo, pulling the girl into your lap.

"santa's not real, isha." jinx cuts in. you and sevika gasp and glare at her and she chuckles. "what?! it's true. he's made up, he's a fairy tale-- parents use him to trick little kids into behaving well."

isha sighs in relief. so, if i'm bad ms. baby and big mama will still give me presents? she asks.

you burst into giggles, and beside you sevika cackles.

"'course, kiddo. sevika gave me a holiday present the same year i blew her fuckin' arm off-- there's not much you can do that'll stop 'em from spoiling you from now on." jinx says.

well... shit. now you've got tears in your eyes. you didn't know that about sevika, and it only makes you love her more. you reach out and grab her hand, only to find it shaking a little. she must be just as affected by jinx's words as you are.

it takes you a few seconds to make sure your voice won't wobble before you speak. "alright, speaking of-- the two of you gotta go to your room so me and sev can put your gifts out. try to sleep, please." you say.

jinx giggles and pulls isha in her arms, both of them hugging and kissing you and sevika goodnight before wandering to their room.

the second their door clicks closed, you and sevika are in eachother's arms, crying with gratitude for your girls; the best gift you could've fucking asked for.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite

[sirxlla]

Naughty List 🎄

----------------------------------------------------

Warnings: NSFW, Unprotected, Female Reader, It's fairly long.

Prompt: Buying him a special Christmas gift.

Notes: italics are actions and thoughts, i'm a new writer, so i'm trying to do what might be good layout? pls Imk what you think of the story or anything really in the comments, i'd really appreciate it

- Happy Holidays/Merry Christmas and with all that said it's all under the cut and -

Things have been quite rough recently with the holidays fast approaching and his ex Tommy trying to come back in his life even though he was happily in a relationship with you. The holidays were horrible for any sort of first responder, if you asked any of them they would tell you the busiest nights of the year are Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas followed by maybe the 4th of July in there. Due to all of that happening of course he was stressed out. As of recent he'd been very distant just due to how stressed out and what little energy he had.

You didn't know if this was a good idea or even if he would be up for it considering it because of how things have been lately. Not that either of you have any issue with one or another but due to the lack of time and energy he's been having. Regardless of that you had happened to stumble upon a skimpy little Santa dress while Christmas shopping online, a smile filled your face as you thought that maybe it was just a bit cliché but maybe stupid enough to get him to smile. Even if nothing else a smile would let you know it helped his stress even just a slivver, now if something did happen? That might make a world of difference to the tension in his shoulders and the stress that seemed to linger in the slight darkness around his eyes. So you ordered it along with the other gifts you had picked out for him and a few other people.

A few days past and you forget about it entirely. Things have been busy so you completely forgot to check when it was going to get to yours and Buck's shared apartment. Of course you and Evan had promised not to open each other's packages because of the fact that they could be Christmas presents for eachother so he brought the packages in when he got home from work and set them down on the kitchen island. He was shortly followed by you coming in about thirty minutes later with groceries. You look down at the table as you brought in the groceries in that were slowly cutting off your circulation to your fingers and remember exactly what you bought. The smile fills your face again prompting you to put groceries up as quickly as you can. You hear him holler that he's getting in the shower and shout back a word of acknowledgment.

Tearing open the white baggie with the Amazon logo across it that you were sure contained the little Santa dress, you find exactly what you ordered a skimpy little Santa dress that came with some cute little stockings as well as a Santa hat. Surprisingly it was a pretty good deal and the quality feels fairly nice and soft. So of course you slip into it while he's preoccupied, zipping it in the front where the zip was. Although it was odd that the zip was in front it didnt look bad at all and it fit surprisingly and exceedingly well.

The other gifts you set aside in their boxes so that you can wrap them at some other point right now that wasn't the priority in your mind. As soon as you heard that shower turn off your smile got bigger because this was either going to make him laugh, make him want to let him stress out in an entirely different way or he wasnt in the mood and would be annoyed. You knew that the last one that filled your mind would most likely be unlikely because even if he was feeling like shit he was always a kind, optimistic and easygoing person.

'Of course that is unless he's not thinking about curses.' You smiled as you thought to yourself about a few Halloween's ago when you were just friends and he was convinced he was cursed. You weren't certain about the idea of curses and such but so much had happened that Halloween for it to be even remotely coincidental.

The sound of him getting out of the shower breaks you from your thoughts. Once he leaves the shower and enters the bedroom you can see him with his back turned to you, the towel tied around his waist as he rummages through it to get boxers out of his dresser.

A sly and mischievous smile feels your lips as you put your arm against the doorway and slightly lean against it.

"Ho, Ho, Ho, Ho, Ho. I was making my list and checking it twice when I found-" You burst into giggles as soon as you see the smile graces his face as he turned his head to face you. You had never done this perfectly before, something about role-play sometimes just made you burst into laughter when you tried to be serious. You wete never making fun of anyone who did this more often when you laughed about it. You just relished in the fun of it and the thought of being able to play with Buck like this due to his accepting and kind nature.

"No, no. Continue." Evan stiffled a laugh and tried to hide a smile so bright and happy which made your confidence brighten a bit. God that smile meant the world and could make you feel like you were standing on air or it could bring you to your knees like a puddle.

"Well I was making a list and checking it twice when I found you had been put on the Naughty List. Have you been doing something that I'm on aware of Mr. Buckley?" You had taken a breath to stiffle your laugh before you started talking. The tone of your voice trying to be entirely serious and get into the role of 'Santa' a bit.

"I have been quite good this year, Santa..." his smile widened as he sauntered closer to you. Evan's hands quickly finding purchase on your hips, the soft almost velvety red fabric beneath his fingers. His smile widens as if it was even possible to get any wider as he starts gently massaging your hips before he brings his mouth down to your ear, his lips brushing against your skin.

"...but you know, my girlfriend...she definitely peer pressures me into a few naughty things here and there, Santa. I'm for sure she's on the naughty list but please, oh, please, for me, Santa put us both on the nice list. I'll do anything." He teasingly begs with a joking tone into your ear with a clear sound of lust and dominance gracing his tone.

Due to how tired he'd been it had been a bit since you had seen his dominant side but it was definitely here now, clear as day in his eyes as he is pushes you onto the bed before finding his way betwen your thighs using his right forearm to the side of your head to hold himself up above you. The last thing he'd ever want to do is squish you beneath him.

"Anything..." He whispers against your lips, a smile gracing both of your faces as he gently and languidly kisses you deeply. Your hands gently caressing his face and the slight stubble left there. He shaves in the mornings before work so it was quite common for him to have it most nights but you had never minded one bit.

"Dear Santa, think you could use a little naughty in your life..." Buck teased with a joking tone as he pushes his knee between your thighs and slightly into your core earning a moan that slipped so easily from your lips to between his, it had been a while so your body was already ready and excited for whatever his little mind concocted.

"See? What did I say?" He smirks at the sweet noise that escaped your lips. The towel around his waist very clearly slipping off his hip as he his brought his lips to the exposed cleavage the little Santa dress left uncovered. He slowly pulled at the zipper at the front of the dress exposing your breasts a bit more before attaching his lips gently around your nipple slowly rolling it around with his tongue. His knee slightly grinded into your core with a slow pace. Your hands found themselves in his wet hair gently massaging.

You could tell his was still tired and you didnt expect him to ravage you like a caveman and besides this gentle dominance was more intimate and close in your opinion than any hot rough sex you had ever had with anyone. Tender loving took more patience and care and Evan just loved taking care of you as you did him; Passionate and slow sex never failed to leave the both of you satisfied. You feel him start to move lower with his kisses as he slowly unzips the front of the dress working his way down and by the time he's nipped and kissed his way down to your panties you stop him.

"Ev, Baby...I want you, not your mouth." You said as you gently and kindly guided his mouth back up to yours and slowly removed the towel from his waist with one hand, letting it fall off the bed before wrapping your arms around his neck. The kiss was languid and soft as Buck held himself above you, still laying between your thighs. His free hand rubbing gently at your nipple, squeezing and massaging your breast earning a few more instinctual noises from you.

"I love you." You whispered, of course it felt random but you always felt the need to reassure him whenever you felt like saying it; you knew the stupid rule most people apparentally had said that you shouldn't say 'I love you' during sex or some shit but as stated before it was stupid. You never said I love you if you didnt mean to anyone let alone Evan. Buck wasn't just his body and you could understand the difference between love and lust. He regains your attention from your thoughts very quickly when he reaches down to rub your clit gently with his thumb though your panties earning a soft mew from your lips. Buck's smile just lights up at the sound.

"Jesus, Baby. You're so worked up, if I'd known you were so needy Id've-"

"Shhhh....Dont." You whisper gently cutting him off before kissing him. The last thing you needed was him blaming himself for you being a bit pent up.

You reached down finding him, gently stroking him, your thumb slightly brushing the tip of him earning the sweetest sounds from him. You reached down to yourself and moved your panties to the side before you slowly guided his body into yours. His eyes gazed into yours and yours back into his. The pace was slow and initmate, your arms wrapped around his torso as his hips deeply and languidly rocked into you. Your eyes not leaving his but for a few seconds on occasion to look down between the two of you as the both of you moan and whimpered in pure bliss of one another. His hair still wet as your hands worked their way through the strands gently in massaging his scalp.

With the way everything was stress-wise and as long as it had been, it was clear to both of you that you both would finish quicker than you would like on a night like this. Usually, the both of you on intimate nights could go for what felt like hours but it was clear both of you wouldnt be making it that long as his hips rocked into you with purpose and depth. Of course neither of you were upset about it, always just content to be with one another.

"I'm close, Baby. You want me to-"

"It's fine, I wanna feel you." You whisper against his lips as you cradled his head not wanting him to leave your body before he finishes this time. He continues the leisurely but deep pace of his him inside you as he feels your walls tighten around him.

"I'm-" You start but you're cut off by the sound of his voice.

"I know." He says gently with a smirk against your chest, that was one thing about Buck is somehow he could always tell exactly what to do with your body and exactly how it was going to react. It was refreshing the way he cared about you and the way he would always take care of you before even beginning to think about finishing himself. That band in your abdomen that had been building slowly snaps as a wave of white washes over you, your back upward so your chest is pressed to his. Evan moves his mouth back up to yours to capture the sound that was escaping your lips before groaning into your mouth with full satisfaction and pride.

After a few moments of silent slight panting as the both of you came down, you whisper to him "Merry Christmas, Baby." You smiled as you massaged his scalp, his body on you like a weighted blanket as you gently massaged drying hair.

"Am I on the Nice list now, Santa?" He smirks as he jokes.

"Well Naughty boys dont get presents and I'm sure you've earned at least a few." Smiling as you hold his face gently tracing that little bit of stubble again.

Masterlist

[mjlovescm]

Everything on your wish list, Spencer Reid

A/n: trying new tagging systems so ig this is Boyfriend!Spencer x black!fem!reader

You and Spencer both had complicated connections to holidays. Growing up with complicated families, this time of year was always hard.

Before his father left, Spencer remembered his mom reading books to him before bed on Santa Claus and polar bears. As a logical child, he didn't truly believe in the large man up north. His father would leave presents under the tree. But being a “busy” man, he never had time to understand what a boy like Spencer would want. Or wrap any of his clearly thoughtful gifts.

As friends, you could always count on one another for something small and sentimental. You often giving Spencer signed books or classics. While he was one to pay attention to the little details. And with an eidetic memory, that was easy to do.

But with this being your first Christmas together, Spencer wanted to make sure he made it a good one. Starting with flashy matching sweaters that Spencer refused to call ugly. And decorations, leaving his apartment covered in colorful lights. The only thing that was left were your presents. And with Garcia's help, Spencer made sure he got you everything you wanted.

“Could you bring me more tape ?”

Spencer asked as he cut a long strip of red ribbon. He was insistent on adding bows to each of the already wrapped boxes. That and a personally signed noted. With a smile and a small “sure” you left the living room before quickly returning with the tape. But once you caught a better look at Spencer's Christmas tree, you were shocked.

Boxes upon boxes of varying sizes, all wrapped and all with bows atop them. And those weren't the only ones. The bowless gifts were sitting on the coffee table, in front of him.

“Spencer you know Christmas is in a few days right. You need to drop these off before it's too late. I thought you already dropped off everyone's gifts?”

He looks away sheepishly, unsure what to say.

“I have.”

Confused, your eyebrows pulled together.

“So whose gifts are these?”

He hesitates before answering. Taking a seat beside him on Spencer's couch, you pick up a cookie and took a bite. Humming at the sweet taste and warm, soft, certainly somewhat under done center.

“Yours.” he says with a small shrug, trying to ease you into the idea.

But you weren't quite catching onto what your boyfriend was suggesting.

“You mean ours ?”

He shakes his head, continuing to tie bows on boxes.

“Just yours.”

You continued to eat your tree shaped cookie as you looked over the boxes.

“All of them are mine? Like all of them.”

He nods and smiles sweetly.

“Merry Christmas.”

He looks beyond proud of himself. Excited even. It's so cute. The way his brown eyes and pink dusted face lights up. You could practically see the Christmas spirit in his eyes. The love for making people feel seen in the form of hand wrapped gifts and handwritten cards.

“Spencer, there's no way I had that many things on my wishlist. I can't even think of that many things that I want.”

When you spoke about gift giving, you agreed on a list. Naturally, both of you wanted to give the other a few things as genuine surprises. But this was far more than a few things. The corner of Spencer's living room with his unique and hefty decorated tree was backed with boxes. The large red tree skirt was overwhelmed, leaving only slivers of the bright fabric to be seen.

“You mentioned some things, and Garcia offered to helped me.”

Confused, you gave Spencer an uncertain look. Help from Garcia could mean a multitude of things. Legal and illegal. Though you knew she meant good, she wasn't one to shy away from doing things her way.

“Is this one of those prank gift things? Am I going to open the boxes, and they're empty ?”

Spencer wasn't one for cruel pranks. But from time to time him and Garcia would attempt it.

He shook his head.

“All the boxes are full.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

You stood and walked to the tree, unsure how much you believed Spencer and his plush Christmas tree.

“So you wouldn't mind if I open a few gifts.”

You weren't being entirely serious but now more than ever

you were genuinely curious to see what he'd gotten you. And how much you'd have to spend to compete with it.

“Normally people open one gift on Christmas Eve, but we can make a new tradition.”

Spencer picks one up. It was one of the smaller ones, wrapped with red paper and tied with a white bow.

“Here, open this one today.”

“Why this one ? What's inside it ?”

Your skepticism was hard to hide.

“If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise.” Spencer said matter-of-factly, yet there was a softness to his words.

You took the gift from Spencer. Both of you taking a seat by the tree and other boxes. You open the present and quickly found that Spencer was telling the truth. It was perfume, a designer perfume you'd had when you were younger. Something your mother had passed down to you.

You hadn't seen the brand in years. Nor the large bottle. The one you'd shared with your mom was smaller. Less than half what Spencer had bought you. And engraved in the glass was your name.

“Merry Christmas.” Spencer whispered with a small smile.

You were silent for a moment, taking it in.

“How did you-”

He explained how he'd remembered you talking about the perfume a few times. Originally, he'd gone to a few stores and malls himself to search for it. But after not finding it, he'd called Garcia for back up. Within the hour, she was able to find a few resellers online. That and haggle them on the price.

“Wait, so all of these are really my gifts?”

“Why wouldn't they be ?”

My full masterlist

Holiday shopping with sugar daddy Spencer 🛍️💳

Being with Spencer means getting lover letters on the regular

Illicit affairs