#end plan is to stitch a bunch of small shots together get myself a 30 sec-1 minute scene then release it somewhere more private like patreon

[you-a-southpaw-doll]

“I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” ~ A Modern Santa!Negan AU One-Shot

Request: Where it’s Christmas time and Negan and the reader have a daughter together and they are trying to get her to sleep but she wants to meet Santa and they keep saying he won’t stop if you’re awake.

Requested By: @mychemicalimagines

Summary: Negan, you, and y’all’s little girl all enjoy a surprise filled Christmas together.

Warning(s): Fluff. Language. Sexual innuendos and tension.

Word Count: 8,450 words!

Author’s Note(s): Merry Christmas (or Happy Holidays, whichever you prefer)! Here’s a little one-shot that @mychemicalimagines asked me to write, and since it’s Christmas, I figured I’d go ahead and try to crank this out in time for the holidays! Also, @mychemicalimagines helped me write this, so thanks, bud, for the help! I enjoyed havin’ the chance to write with you. :) 

Relationship(s): Negan x Reader (Married). Negan x Emily (Father/Daughter). Reader x Emily (Mother/Daughter)

Characters: Negan. Reader. Emily (OFC).

Taglist: @negans-network @thamberlina @prettyboynegan @mychemicalimagines

Story Time:

Negan’s POV:

“Please, daddy? I just wanna see Santa!” My little girl pleads, jumping up into my lap.

I look at you sitting next to me on Emily’s bed. You look at me, with a small grin on your face. Your look tells me that I’m on my own for this. I let out a quiet sigh as I look down at our daughter. She looks up me, waiting for my answer. I place a hand on her back. 

I bit my bottom lip as I think. I smirk as I come up with the perfect plan. I look at Emily.

“Alright. Let’s make a fuckin’ deal, yeah?” I ask.

She nods. “Ok!”

“You can stay up until 10:30 tonight, to try and see Santa, but just know that he’s not gonna fuckin’ show up until you’re sound asleep, like a good little girl.”

“Ok!”

Emily’s so fuckin’ excited, but I know she won’t be able to keep her eyes open long ‘nough to see the clock say 10:30 pm. Besides, that’s only two hours away, and I can already tell that she’s exhausted. She’s been fighting sleep since we finished baking cookies for Santa earlier. 

She kisses my cheek and I hug her tightly.

“Go ahead and give your ma a fuckin’ hug and kiss goodnight too, sweetheart.” I say.

She hops out of my lap and climbs into yours. She flings her little arms ‘round your neck and hugs you while peppering your cheek with a bunch of little kisses, which has you chuckling. I laugh too. It’s adorable, seeing you with our daughter always makes me happy and tonight is no different.

In fact, tonight’s even more special. The three of us have matching pajamas on. Emily found ‘em when she saw them in Target when the two of y’all went shopping yesterday for some last minute cookie ingredients. They’re red silk with little reindeers on ‘em that have green little scarves ‘round their necks.

The pants have a little red ribbon drawstring to tighten ‘em ‘round the waist. The shirts have cute little green buttons, and the sleeves are long with a little white ribbon stitched ‘round the cuffs. The collar folds down at the neck, and offers a view of the collarbone. 

Emily has her shirt buttoned all the way up. You only have the top button undone. As for me, well, I have the top three undone, per your request. You love to see my chest hair peek out from under my shirts. I’m not one to deny you. Emily crawls from your lap and settles back in mine, wrapping her legs ‘round my waist, and her arms ‘round the middle of my torso.

She lays her head on my shoulder. I gently rub her back.

“I love you, daddy.” She murmurs, sleepily.

“I love you too, baby girl.” I reply, kissing the top of her head.

She snuggles up to me even more. Not even ten minutes later, she’s sound asleep in my arms. I let out a chuckle. I knew she wouldn’t make it to 10:30 pm and still be awake. Hearing you giggle, I glance over at you. You just grin and shake your head.

“You knew she wouldn’t stay awake, didn’t you?” You tease.

“Yup!” I say, making the “P” pop.

You laugh. “Alright. Well, I do believe it’s time for Santa to make his appearance.”

I chuckle. “You might be fuckin’ onto somethin’ there, sweetheart.”

You grin, lean over, and kiss my cheek before you stand up. I shift, holding Emily in my arm still. You pull the covers back on her bed, and I gently lay her down, covering her up. I place a soft kiss on her forehead before following you to our room. 

You close the door once we’re in there, and I start unbuttoning my pajama shirt. You watch with a lustful look in your eyes. I chuckle and do a bit of a striptease for you as I finish undressing. You bite your bottom lip.

“I get my present later, right?” You ask, seductively.

I smirk. “Depends. You’ll have to ask Santa real nicely.”

You grin. “Oh. I will. And, I know Santa will fuckin’ give me what I want.”

I growl playfully, and tug you towards me. I kiss you before walking over to our closet. I slide the doors open and look inside for the Santa Claus costume you bought for me a couple years ago. Thankfully my body ain’t changed much so I should be able to still fit in it properly. 

I snag the hanger, and carry the suit over to our bed. I glance up, taking the suit jacket off the hanger first so I can get to the pants. I slip ‘em on over my black and white spotted boxers. You always seem to giggle whenever I wear ‘em, and although you won’t tell me why, I still wear ‘em as often as I can, just so I can hear your cute as fuckin’ shit giggle.

I grab one of my white t-shirts from the dresser and shove my head and arms through the proper holes. Once my head pops through the top hole, I see you holding one of our fluffiest pillows towards me. I chuckle as I take it and shove it under my shirt. 

It just so happens to be your pillow so it smells just like you; your scent from the pillow drifts up to my nose and I just smile. You giggle at me. “Have I told you I love your dimples?”

I chuckle. “Mmhhmm. And, have I told you, I fuckin’ love you?”

You blush. “I love you too.”

I quickly make sure it’s in place correctly before I tuck my shirt into the pants. The soft fabric slightly tickles my legs, but also feels extremely fuckin’ comfortable. There’s a semi-hidden drawstring in the waistband of the pants, and I tug the two ends so that the pants tighten ‘round my waist and sit just below my hips.

I unbutton the few buttons on the suit jacket and slide it over my upper body. Once it’s situated, I button it up. I look at you, placing my hands on my extended, fluffed up tummy. I raise an eyebrow.

“Ho ho ho!” I say, lowering my voice to sound more like a stereotypical Santa.

“What did you just call me?” You try to say with a straight face but giggles just flood out.

Your giggles turn into a rolling laugh, and you’re laughing so much that you have to plop down on our bed, with your eyes closed. I chuckle. You open your eyes after a few minutes and look up at me. I notice tears rolling down your cheeks, and I start to laugh. 

I’m happy to see you so happy. I sit down next to you on the bed, and look for the boots you bought for this shindig. I attempt to put ‘em on, but due to my pillow stuffed belly, I can’t. After a few unsuccessful attempts that send you into another fit of giggles, you finally get down on your knees before me, and help slide the boots onto my feet.

“Santa, I think you need to lose some weight.” You joke.

I chuckle. “Hardy fuckin’ har har.”

You just laugh. “I hope you know you can’t be cussing every five seconds when you’re around Emily like this. She will start to understand.”

“Do you mean when I’m dressed as fuckin’ Santa? Or in fuckin’ general?”

“When you’re dressed as fuckin’ Santa.” You say in a deeper voice trying to copy me; it never works, but it still is so fuckin’ cute.

I sigh, but only playfully. I know you’ve got a valid point there. You place your hands on my thighs, close to my knees rather than closer towards my crotch, much to my fuckin’ dismay.

“You’re fuckin’ right, I suppose. But...who said that Santa can’t fuckin’ cuss?” I ask, more to myself.

“Pretty much every Santa story ever!”

I open my mouth to protest. “Uh...doll...that’s not necessarily the fuckin’ case. You know Santa wasn’t always this great fuckin’ guy that delievered toys to good fuckin’ little boys and girls. Right?”

Your brow furrows. “The hell you talkin’ ‘bout, Negan?”

I’m shocked. “You really don’t know?”

You shake your head. “No?”

“Oh! Baby, ok listen. The true origins of Santa depict him as this evil being that would eat kids! He’d go ‘round to different fuckin’ houses and snatch up all the naughty boys and girls. He used to be fuckin’ feared by all. It was a way to get kids to fuckin’ behave. He was not the fuckin’ pudgy, soft-faced and spoken character we all know and love today. He was a scrawny, scary lookin’ little fucker that would mess you the fuck up.”

Your eyes widen. “Please tell me you don’t tell this story to Emily?”

I shake my head. “Sweetheart, we both know I’m an asshole, but I’m not a monster. I ain’t gonna scare the shit outta our fuckin’ kid like that.”

“Good.” You place one of your hands on your forehead. “When you read the stories to Emily, you cuss, don’t you?”

“That’s beside the fuckin’ point.” I laugh. “She knows it’s me readin’ her the fuckin’ stories, and she knows I fuckin’ cuss like a damn sailor.”

You give me that look and I know I need to tread carefully. I shut my trap after muttering a “Yes, ma’am.”

You lean up and kiss my cheek, muttering, “Good boy.”

I grin to myself. Damn fuckin’ right I’m a good boy. But, only when I’m with you. I’m only a good boy for you. You make me want to be one. You get up and go over to the closet. You disappear inside for a second before reappearing for a second with a box labeled “Holiday”. 

You set it on the bed next to me. Inside is the beard I need, along with the Santa hat and black leather gloves. I slide the gloves on over my hands. You hold the beard out to me.

“What? My beard not fuckin’ good ‘nough? I���ve been workin’ on this shit for a few months now.” I say, smirking, rubbing my bearded chin.

You shake your head. “Sorry, babe. But, no. It’s not quite white ‘nough. There’s still too much pepper in what’s supposed to be an all salt beard.”

“Hey! I thought you liked my salt-and-pepper scruff? You never complain when I’ve got my face buried ‘tween your thighs, doll.”

I watch as you rub your thighs together at my words, and I just smirk. I knew it. You playfully glare at me, and smack my shoulder. I grunt, but you know I’m just fuckin’ messing with you. I take the beard and put it on. After you help me get it in place, you slide the hat on my head.

You place a kiss against my cheek before you hold a hand out towards me. I take it, and stand up. I wrap my arms ‘round you as best as I can with the pillow in the way between us.

“Ready to make some noise, Santa?” You ask, looking up at me.

I nod. “Let’s fuckin’ do this shit!”

I climb up onto the bed, and jump off of it, making a loud thud as my boots hit the hardwood floor. I look at you, grinning.

“Think that sounded close ‘nough to a sleigh landing on the fuckin’ roof?” I ask.

“Close enough. She won’t know the difference.” You say grabbing the bells out of the box that was on the bed. “Better hurry up and go downstairs. Before she catches Santa in mommy and daddy’s room.”

You tap your fingers against my sternum before laying your palm flat against me. You step up on your tiptoes and gently kiss me. I smile into the kiss as i hold you close. I walk downstairs to the living room with you by my side, ringing the bells every few seconds so Emily thinks it the reindeer on the roof.

You duck into the kitchen to do something while I look at the clock on the mantel above the fireplace. It’s already eleven o’clock at night. I guess we spent more time in our room, getting me ready and teasing each other than I originally thought. 

I chuckle as I walk over to the fireplace. I kick my boots ‘round in the ashes of the burnt out fire from earlier in the night. I gotta make it look like I came down the chimney since I’m dressed as Santa. This whole shindig that you and I do for Christmas is somethin’ we’ve done since Emily was three. 

She’s seven now, so we’ve have a few years to practice and get things right. She’s an innocent kid, and I’m not gonna be the one to take away her belief in Santa. The world’s already shitty as is; I gotta let my little girl have something to look forward to. 

Plus, Christmas is her favorite holiday, so you and I always try to go all out for her. She doesn’t like it ‘cause of the presents, but rather ‘cause it means that we all get to wear matching pjs, drink hot cocoa, eat cookies, and watch cheesy movies.

Her favorite movie is the one with the Grinch. She always giggles through the whole thing. She also loves helping her mum set up the Christmas village on the coffee table. And, she likes to help decorate the tree every year. Her favorite part comes after we’ve hung all the ornaments and tinsels up, and strung the strings of popcorn and bright lights ‘round the tree that’s nearly as tall as I am.

Her favorite part consists of her sitting atop my shoulders, little white Angel in hand, and reaching up to place the Angel on the top of the tree. When she does that, and the Angel is situated to her liking, she’ll lean back, still sitting on my shoulders, with one of my hands curled ‘round her little ankles, and she’ll clap her hands excitedly.

I love seeing her happy, and I’d do fuckin’ anything and everything I possibly could to make sure she’s happy. Same goes for you. Y’all are my fuckin’ world. My fuckin’ everything. I don’t fuckin’ know what I did to deserve y’all, but I fuckin’ thank my lucky stars every morning when I wake with you in my damn arms and every night when I tuck Emily into bed and kiss her forehead.

Without y’all, I’d be lost.

I feel arms wrap ‘round me from behind, and I glance down. When I see your hands clasped together, and resting over the pillow under my outfit, I smile. You rest your head against my back as I place my hands over yours.

“I love you.” You murmur.

“I love you too, doll.” I reply, turning ‘round in your arms.

You lift your head and look up at me. I reach a leather clad hand up and cup your cheek. My thumb rubs across your cheek under your eye. You lean into my touch. I lower my head and softly press my lips to yours. It’s a soft kiss, but I still manage to express how much you mean to me with it.

When your lips leave mine, I kiss your forehead before standing up straight again. My eyes drift over your shoulder to the plate of little reindeer and Santa decorated cookies under the lamp on the small end table by the arm of the couch. 

There’s also a steaming cup of hot cocoa beside it. I grin and look back down at you.

“Did you make hot cocoa for Santa?” I tease.

You smile. “Mmhhmm. A little birdy told me it was one of his favorite drinks. I even added a little somethin’ extra to it.”

I raise an eyebrow as I step aside and reach for the hot drink. I smile once I see the dollop of whipped cream sitting atop some floating, and melting, mini marshmallows. I bring the cup up to my lips and take a sip. I immediately realize what that little something extra that you added to it.

I glance up at you, holding the cup with both hands. You giggle.

“Irish cream bourbon? You fuckin’ tryin’ to get Santa drunk?” I playfully ask.

You smirk. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

I grin. “You know, Santa’s gotta steer a fuckin’ sleigh and control eight damn reindeer all over the fuckin’ planet, right?”

Your eyes twinkle as your smirk turns into an even bigger grin and just shrug.

“You deserve one drink Santa.”

I chuckle as I take another sip of the spiked drink. It tastes damn good, and it burns in two ways as it slides down my throat. The heat of the drink itself burns and warms me up. Then, the burn of the alcohol burns in an even better way.

“Maybe Santa should just stay the night here since he has been drinkin’.” You whisper before winking and walking away. You fuckin’ planned this conversation.

A deep chuckle escapes my lips. “He should, should he?”

You glance at me over your shoulder as you stand at the base of the stairs. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it. He knows where to find me if he wants a place to sleep for the night.”

You wink one more time before going upstairs to our room. I know that’s where you’re headed ‘cause even though you were teasing me, and your eyes lit up with mischief, I could still see the tiredness in your eyes. I settle down onto the couch, the bourbon laced hot cocoa in one hand, and reach over to grab a green icing reindeer cookie off the plate.

Taking a bite, a few of the crumbs get caught in my beard. I finish the cookie before bothering to wipe the crumbs away. I’m reaching for another cookie, a red reindeer one, when I hear quiet footsteps coming down the stairs. I grin to myself, this is always my favorite part. 

Last year, Emily made ‘Santa’ promise to stop and say hello to her again. I hear her gasp softly.

“Santa! You’re here! You waited for me!” She whispers running over, climbing onto my lap.

“Well Little Emily, I promised you I would stop and say hi, didn’t I?” I lower my voice to sound like Santa.

I remembered what you said about cussing around her while dressed as Santa. I’m trying not too, but this gets harder every second. Cussing comes as fluently to me as English does. It’s just my second nature.

She just grins up at me, “Yes! You did, Santa! I’m glad you did! I tried to be a very good girl this year! I even made sure to do all my chores.”

That was one thing that Emily has done this year. No matter what we asked her to do, she did it. Clean her room, help mummy clean the kitchen and living room, do dishes. I’m so fuckin’ proud of her. Even though she’s just doing all of this for Santa, she is still understanding responsibility.

“That’s why I made sure to stay. I noticed you stayed on the Nice list all this year.” I gently pat her back and smiles.

I reach over and grab the cookie I wanted before. I don’t know what you do to these cookies, but they are always so fuckin’ amazing. I swear, it’s like I’m a damn addict, and your cookies are my drug of choice that I keep craving.

“Did you bake these cookies all by yourself?” I ask Emily in my deep voice once again.

She shakes her head quickly, “No! Mommy, daddy and I made them together. Her and daddy always say never touch the oven without an adult!”

That is one thing she is good at, listening to us. After almost burning her hand helping you make dinner a few months ago, she knows never to touch it again. You were paying attention to her since she was so close to the oven, if you hadn’t she could have gotten seriously hurt. 

I’d been workin’ late at the car dealership after working at the school that day, so I wasn’t home when it happened. Y’all were wanting to surprise me with dinner when I got home - Emily’s idea - but, the surprise was blown when you called to tell me that she’d gotten burned, but that she was ok. 

I’d left work immediately and came home.

“I’m glad you listen to your parents,” I take a bite of the cookie. “These are the best cookies I have ever tasted! I go to every single  house in the world and there are no better cookies than you and your moms”

She just blushes and her grin gets even wider. If that is even possible. I hear more footsteps coming down the stairs. You pop your head from around the corner. Your hair is wet from what I’m guessing is the shower you just took. Of course, you would take one without me. 

I’ll just have to get you dirty again later so we can take one together.

“Emily, I see you caught Santa before he left!” You say in a very cheerful voice. That shower must have woken you up.

“Hi, mommy! Santa said he waited for me!” She says excitedly.

You walk over and sit in my favorite reclining chair that’s next to the couch. You are the only one I let sit there without permission. Emily’s allowed in my lap, but that’s my chair.

“Well hello!” I say, looking over at you. “I don’t think we got to meet last year. Miss Morgan, right?”

When Emily looks over her shoulder at you, I give you a quick wink, smirking just a little.

“I’m sorry, Santa, but it’s Mrs. Morgan” You smirk right back at me.

I grin. Damn right you’re Mrs. Morgan. I finish the cookie that I picked up earlier, and take a quick drink of my spiked, hot cocoa when I go to reply to you. I stop when I notice Emily reaching over and grabbing a Santa cookie and she holds it up in front of me like she is examining it.

“Santa! This cookie looks just like you!” She holds it out to me so I can take a look.

We did a very good job this year making sure we dressed me up as the Santa everyone knows.

I chuckle a very deep Santa-Like laugh, “It sure as fuckin’ shit does!”

I pause for a second and look over at you. I tried so hard not to cuss this year. Just for our little girl, but it just slipped out without me thinking! You just playfully glare over at me, and shake your head.

Emily giggles and pats my arm, “Santa! You're not supposed to say bad words. You sound like my daddy. Mommy says he can say bad words because he does nice things to make up for them! Like yesterday, he took me to the park and we played in the snow!”

“Oops! You’re right, Little Emily.” I say, playfully pouting, and putting my head down.

“It’s okay, Santa! I forgive you!” She looks around. “Wait! Where is my daddy? I haven’t seen him since he put me to bed.”

I quickly answer, “Oh, when I got here a piece of my sleigh broke, so your daddy went to the store really quick to grab the part for me so I could talk to you!”

“I told you, Santa, my daddy is very nice!” Emily turns to you while still in my lap, “Mommy, last year Santa said daddy was on the naughty list so that’s why he didn’t get any presents from Santa!”

“Well, Santa. Why was daddy on the naughty list?” You ask smirking over at me.

You know damn well what I have done that’s so naughty to make myself on that ‘list’. All of them were done to you, probably just in the last week!

“Well, Mrs. Morgan, I can’t tell you why your husband was on the naughty list, but if you would like I can tell you why you deserve to be on the naughty list. Yet, somehow, your name always stays on the nice list.” I say winking over at her, making sure my voice gets even deeper than the Santa voice.

I know what it does to you. It’s the same voice I talk to you at night, just to make sure you’re in the mood.

“Santa, you can’t be flirting with my mommy. She’s married to my daddy!” Emily says, shaking her head at me.

“I’m sorry, Emily, but your mother is so fuckin’ beautiful, I can’t help but flirt with her.” I say, looking over at you as I take another sip of my cocoa.

I look down at my cup to see it’s now empty. You just blush and turn toward the cookies, grabbing one for yourself. I turn to Emily when she pats at my arm.

“Santa, why haven’t you put the presents under the tree yet?” She points to the tree with no presents underneath.

“Because you’re supposed to be sleeping, so I’m not putting any presents under the tree until you fall asleep,” I answer her as I remember where we hid all her presents.

This year we hid them in the basement since she’s too scared to go down there. A couple months ago we had a little mouse causing trouble down there and she found it. She’s been too scared to go down there ever since.

Her mouth goes into an O shape and she starts nodding. “I understand, Santa. It has to be a surprise!”

“Exactly, Emily. Which is why you should be going to bed soon.” You say, giving her the ‘Mom’ look.

I look over at the clock and see that it's now after midnight. In fact, it’s 12:15 am on Christmas morning.

“Your mommy is right, Emily. And, I have to get going. I have more children’s houses to stop by.” I say.

Emily’s face falls, but she nods. I don’t like seeing my little girl upset, but I do need for her to be in bed so that you and I can bring the presents out and hide ‘em under the tree. She looks up at me with a hopeful look on her face.

“Santa? May I have a hug? Please?” She asks, quietly.

I grin from ear to ear. “Of course you can, sweetheart!”

She wraps her arms ‘round my neck and tucks her face against the Santa beard. I wrap my arms ‘round her, and hug her back. After a moment, she pulls back, and sits on my lap. She grins up at me.

“Santa! You give hugs just like my daddy!” She says, happily.

I chuckle. “Is that so?”

She nods, and leans in close. “Don’t tell daddy, but I love his hugs. They make me feel safe and loved.”

I smile. “Don’t worry, Little Emily. Your secret is safe with me. I promise. Should I keep your daddy on the Nice list since he gives good hugs?”

She nods. “Yes, please! Then he can get presents too! He deserves at least one. He’s the best daddy ever!”

I smile and my heart swells with love for my kid. She’s so fuckin’ sweet. I always knew she loved my hugs, but I didn’t know they made her feel safe. That’s good, though. I always want her to feel safe with me. She hops down off my lap and stands in front of me.

“Good night, Santa!” She says, before running up the stairs to her bedroom.

I watch her retreating back until I hear her door close. I look over at you and smile.

“Come on, doll. Let’s go get her presents,” I try to stand up off the couch, but because of my pillowy belly, I can’t get up.

I hear soft laughter, when I look up I see you covering your mouth, trying not to let a sound out.

“Very fuckin’ funny. Laugh at the fat guy,” I say. crossing my arms in a childlike pout.

“Oh Santa, you know I love you.” You say standing up. “‘Sides, you’re the one that kept eatin’ one cookie after a-fuckin’-nother.”

“The fuckin’ mouth on you! Maybe Santa should put you on the fuckin’ naughty list.”

“He’d better fuckin’ not. Otherwise, he won’t have a reason to be naughty anymore.”

My eyes widen. Well, shit. Santa ain’t gonna be putting you on the naughty list any-fuckin’-time soon. That’s for damn sure. You walk over until you’re standing in front of me. You put your hands out to help me up, so I grab a hold of them and you help pull me up.

“You’re fuckin’ right, Mrs. Morgan. Santa does need to lose a lot of fuckin’ weight,” I say, after a couple of deep breaths.

This pillow and heavy jacket is making me feel extra warm. We need to hurry and get these presents under the tree so I can change. I’m actually looking forward to putting my matching pajamas on again, and that’s saying something ‘cause I usually prefer to sleep naked. 

I grab your hand gently, and pull you toward the basement door.

“Alright, Mrs. Morgan. You can grab all the little fuckin’ things and bring them up here. I got the fuckin’ rest.” I smirk over at her. “Santa’s gotta get some muscles back instead of all this damn fat from your fuckin’ delicious as shit cookies.”

You just roll your eyes, and shake your head at me. But, you have the biggest and cutest fuckin’ grin on your face. For the next twenty minutes or so, we’re bringing the presents up, putting ‘em under the tree. You’re putting ‘em in a way so that Emily can see all the wrapped presents after I hand ‘em to you.

We got her so much fuckin’ stuff, I’m surprised you can still see the tree skirt. We always spoil our baby girl. She fuckin’ deserves it. She’s my whole world. Actually, if I could buy the actual fuckin’ planet, I would give it to her. I’ve give you the whole fuckin’ galaxy. 

Y’all really are my fuckin’ everything.

“I’m glad you grabbed the bike. I feel bad ‘cause she asked for it for her birthday last month, but they didn’t have the one she wanted.” You say, crossing your arms, watching me slide the brand new bicycle under the tree.

“It’s okay, darlin’. I think she’ll be fuckin’ shocked to see it,” I say, pulling you over to me.

You wrap your arms around my waist, putting your head on my chest right above the pillow. I put my hand on your cheek, making you look up at me. When you do, I lean down and press my lips to yours. I feel you push up, meaning you got on your tiptoes. 

I wrap my arm around your waist, and the hand I used to cup your cheek, I move to your hair. After a few minutes, you pull away from the kiss. You smile up at me, lips redder than before. I chuckle at the sight of you.

“C’mon. Let’s get you out of these clothes and into bed. We both know Emily’ll be wakin’ us up in a few hours anyway,” You smile at me, pulling on my hand, tugging me towards the stairs.

“Go on up. I’ll turn everything off down here.” I kiss your cheek and watch you as you go upstairs.

I turn off the living room lights, along with the kitchen lights. I leave on the Christmas tree lights ‘cause I know that Emily loves running down the stairs in the mornings to see them already on.

“Merry Christmas, daddy!”

I let out a quiet groan as I feel my daughter bounce up and down on my chest, excitedly. Cracking one eye open, I peek at her, and reach up to place one hand on her hip, getting her to stop bouncing. She looks down at me with the biggest smile on her little face. 

Even though I’m still fuckin’ half asleep, I still smile right back at her.

“Merry fuckin’ Christmas to you too, baby girl.” I mumble, sleepily.

Her smile gets bigger, which I didn’t know was possible. She leans down and kisses my cheek.

“Santa came last night!” She says, sitting back up.

I chuckle. I know Santa came last night, but I don’t divulge that information to my daughter. I just open both eyes, and rub my hand over my face in an attempt to get rid of the sleep.

“Is that fuckin’ so, sweetpea?” I ask, smirking.

She nods. “Mmhhmm! He even gave me a hug!”

I raise an eyebrow as I move to a sit position, with Emily still on my lap. I wrap both my arms ‘round her and hug her. She giggles as she tries to squirm away. I chuckle.

“Like that?” I tease.

She nods, still giggling. “Mmhhmm! But, your hugs are still better.”

“Damn fuckin’ straight they are, baby girl. Daddy gives good hugs, doesn’t he?”

“Yep! The best!”

“I can agree with that!” I hear you mumble; your voice still heavily laced with sleep.

I chuckle as I lean over and gently kiss you.

“Mornin’, darlin’. And, merry fuckin’ Christmas!” I say against your lips.

“Mmm. Mornin’ to you too, babe. Merry Christmas too. Can I go back to sleep now?” You ask.

“But, mommy! Santa put the presents out like he said he would!” Emily says climbing off of me, to climb onto your lap.

You just wrap your arms around her and pull her close. Your eyes stay closed and I lean back slightly. My shirt’s getting all bunched up and I gotta fuckin’ fix it.

“Little Angel’s right, doll. Santa put a lot of effort into bringin’ all those presents here last night.” I tease, glancing down at you.

You let out a groan. “Fine. But, then I’m goin’ back to fuckin’ sleep afterward.”

I chuckle. “We can all go back to fuckin’ sleep later, sweetheart. But, c’mon. Up and at ‘em!”

You open your eyes to glare at me. I know you ain’t really pissed at me, ‘cause I can see that playful twinkle in your eyes. You finally sit up, kiss Emily’s forehead, and shift her off of you.

“I gotta go take care of some business, so y’all head on downstairs. I’ll be down in a minute.” You say.

Emily and I both nod. I scoop her up in my arms and playfully toss her over my shoulder as I stand up from the bed. She loves it when I do this. I hear her giggle, happily, and attempt to cling to my shirt. Since it’s silk, she doesn’t really have much luck, so she just wraps her arms ‘round my chest as best as she can.

You laugh at me with our daughter, knowing I’d never do anything to hurt her. I carry her downstairs after flashing my dimpled smile. Once we’re in the living room, I plop down on the couch, and pull Emily off my shoulder. She settles down on my thighs, and fiddles with the buttons on my shirt.

I can tell her excitement’s dimmed a little since we left my room a few moments ago. I look at her, frowning slightly.

“Baby girl? What’s wrong?” I ask, softly.

She shakes her head and continues to fiddle with the buttons. “Nothin’.”

“Sweetheart. Please, don’t lie to me. What’s wrong?”

She lifts her head up. I can see that she’s conflicted. She bites her bottom lip just like you and I both do.

“I saw Santa flirtin’ with mommy last night.” She says, quietly.

I chuckle. “Yeah? And, what’d mommy do?”

“She didn’t do anythin’.”

I raise an eyebrow as I smirk. “Is that so?”

She nods. “Mmhhmm. And, I even saw mommy kissing Santa Claus.”

My eyes widen. Shit. She saw me kiss you last night while I was still in the Santa outfit. I thought I’d made sure she was outta sight ‘fore I kissed you.

“Are you mad, daddy?” Emily asks, dragging my attention to her.

“Mad? Why would I be mad, sweetie?” I ask, slightly confused.

“Mommy kissed Santa. And he kissed her back.”

I chuckle. “I’m not mad, baby girl.”

“Really? Then why was mommy kissing him? I thought that was somethin’ you only do with someone you love?”

I think of something to say. “Um. Well, you know how daddy was helpin’ Santa fix his sleigh?”

Emily nods. “Mmhhmm.”

“Well...um...she was thankin’ him for bringin’ all those presents. And, he kissed her back as a way to say thanks for me helpin’ him with his sleigh. There wasn’t anythin’ else to the kiss.”

She seems to accept my answer, and her face lights up again. Her mood changes so quickly that one could almost get whiplash. Oh, the joys of being a kid. You ain’t gotta worry ‘bout a lot of fuckin’ shit.

“Mommy!” Our daughter hollers. “Hurry! I wanna see what Santa brought me!”

I hear your laugh trickle down the stairs ‘fore I hear your footsteps.

“I’m comin’!” You holler back down.

I chuckle and Emily grins. I look up to see you reach the last step. You’ve got a small, thin, rectangular box in your hand. I lift my eyes to meet yours, and you just give me a smile. You plop down in my chair. Emily looks from you to me and back to you.

“Can I open my presents now?” She asks, happy and full of hope.

I nod at you over her shoulder. You smile at you and nod. Emily hops down off my lap, and rushes over to the tree. She starts dividing up the presents. I happened to put a few in there for you from me. And, I know Emily had one that she picked out for you when she and I were hanging out one day.

Of course, not all of her presents are from Santa. Just a couple small, inexpensive gifts. We didn’t want it to seem like Santa had favorites by getting her some big or expensive present. We know not all kids are as lucky as Emily when it comes to Christmas, so we try to make it seem like Santa is an equal opportunity provider to all kids, regardless of their parents’ incomes.

After she is all done dividing the presents, she looks over at us.

“Do you want me to open all of mine now? Or do you want to open some of yours too?” She asks sweetly.

I look over at you. Last year we let her open all of them while you were taking photos, then we opened ours. She knows to wait till after all the presents have been unwrapped before opening and playing with any of them. You’ve taught her to do this; that it’s important to be patient and that good things come to those who wait.

She doesn’t mind waiting ‘cause then she knows we won’t interrupt her from playing with her new toys until it’s time for breakfast. You and I share a look ‘fore you nod at our little girl.

“You go ahead, baby. Then daddy and I’ll open ours.” You say.

Emily grins and happily starts opening all of her presents. There goes hours and hours spent wrapping the presents so carefully and neatly. Santa brought her a few coloring books, a stuffed animal, and a new dress. The rest of the presents, the bike included, came from you and I. 

We made sure to get her a helmet and pads so she’s safe when she’s riding the bike. The last thing either of us want is for her to be getting hurt. It’s bad ‘nough she’s our kid with us both being clumsy. She got that from the both of us too. You and I also tag-teamed and got her a Hockey jersey from our favorite team as a family with our last name on it, and her favorite number, “29”, on it.

I have a feeling she’s gonna wanna put it on the moment we say she can. She loves hockey. When she’s done opening her gifts, she turns to look at us. I get up from my spot on the couch and walk over to get your presents. I hand ‘em to you, placing a kiss on your forehead too, ‘fore I sit back down.

I watch as your open your gifts from Emily, who moves to sit by your feet. One’s a coffee mug she made in school. It’s got her handprint painted on the side of it in your favorite color, and the other side says “World’s Bestest Mommy!”. The other one is a baseball jersey from your favorite team with our last name on the back of it and a number “45” below our name, in honor of your favorite baseball player.

It was Emily’s idea to get it custom made, and she knows how much you love baseball. You look down at her, who’s just grinning up at you. You ruffle her hair, and smile.

“Thank you, baby!” You say.

“You’re welcome, mommy!” Emily says.

You start to open the present I got for you. Your eyes light up when you see my gift. You look at me.

“Season passes? And meet and greet chances?” You ask, excitedly.

I smile. “Yep! I know how much you love baseball, doll. So, I got you that. Now, you can to a game whenever you want, and go to multiple ones too. All season long.”

You grin. “Thanks.”

“You’re more than welcome. Just don’t go fallin’ in fuckin’ love with any of the players you meet.”

You laugh. “No promises!”

“Hey!”

You smirk. “What? You know I’m a sucker for a baseball player!”

“I know! That’s how I managed to win you over all those years ago.”

You bite your bottom lip. “What can I say? Your ass looked damn good in those baseball uniform pants.”

I laugh. Emily smiles. She gets up, and gets a small-ish package and brings it over to me.

“Your turn, daddy! It’s from me!” She says, excitedly.

I smile and take the gift from her. It’s soft in my hands, and I can’t wait to open it. So, I do. It’s a fuckin’ Seattle Seahawks football jersey! On the back, our last name is stitched on with the number “12” just below it. I know I can’t wait to put it on. 

You and Emily both know how much I fuckin’ love the Seahawks. I set it on the couch beside me, ‘fore I break our own rule and put it on ‘fore all the presents are open. I look up to see you standing up and making your way towards me. At first, I think you noticed that I was ‘bout to break our rule, so my first thought is “Please don’t get mad at me for trying to break our only Christmas rule we enforce every year.”

You sit on the arm of the couch beside me, not saying anything, but holding the small, thin, rectangular box out in front of me. I immediately grin, thinking you’ve gotten me another thin leather bracelet to wear. I take the box from you, and before I can open it, I hear your voice.

“Merry Christmas, honey.”

I look up at you, smiling. “Merry Christmas to you too, sweetheart.”

You lean down to kiss my temple. “I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I will, babydoll.”

I go to look back at the box, and I notice our daughter is bouncing on her knees, grinning from ear to ear. I chuckle.

“Excited, baby girl?” I tease.

“Yes! Open your present, daddy!” She squeals.

I laugh. “Okay! Okay! I’m openin’ it!”

I look at the box. The two of y’all have definitely got me intrigued as to what’s in here. I slowly lift the lid and peer inside the small container. What I was expecting is definitely not what’s in there. What’s in there is not something I was expecting at all. 

The lid falls from my left hand and I reach in and gently pick the item up. My breath catches in my throat, and my heart pounds against my chest as I stare at it for a solid minute, trying to process what I’m looking at. Finally, I look up at you, tears filling my eyes instantly. 

You smile at me. I feel a tear roll down my cheek as another one rolls down the opposite cheek.

“You...You’re...We’re…” I stammer, my voice cracking.

You giggle and nod. “Yes, honey. We’re pregnant.”

The tears fall freely as I set the pregnancy test back in the box and set it on top of my football jersey. I reach up and pull you off the arm of the couch and into my lap. You wrap your arms ‘round my neck as I bury my face against your chest. You soothe me as I cry happy tears. 

I feel your fingers tangle in my hair. I cling to you tighter. You’ve just given me the best gift ever - aside from Emily, of course. And I thought the jersey was gonna be the best thing I was getting today. You blew that outta the water. We’re gonna have another baby. 

I’m gonna be a daddy again! We tried for years after Emily was born, but it never worked out. We got excited two times, only for it to never work out, and we lost both babies. I knew those times were hard on you, just like they were hard on me. 

So...for you to finally tell me now…

“How long have you known?” I ask, lifting my head up to look at you.

You cup my cheek, and wipe away some of my tears. “I’m ‘bout three and a half months along.”

“You waited.”

You nod. “I didn’t wanna get your hopes up again, baby. It ‘bout killed you last time. I wanted to be sure before I said anything.”

“God. I fuckin’ love you.”

You smile. “And, I love you too.”

“Wait. That explains all those times when you got sick, doesn’t it?”

You laugh and nod. “Yea! Mornin’ sickness can be a real asshole.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t think ‘bout it.”

“I tried to play it off so you wouldn’t put two and two together, honey.”

“You’re trouble.” I tease.

“Trouble that you love.”

I nod. “You’re fuckin’ right ‘bout that.”

You shift in my lap. I watch as you pull something out from the back pocket of your pjs. You hold it out to me. I take it and quickly recognize it as an ultrasound photo. I run my thumb over the little image and the shape of what’s our unborn child. 

The tears start again, but I don’t fuckin’ care.

“I’ve got a doctor’s appointment in two weeks. Go with me?”

I look up from the photo to you. “Of course. I’ll always fuckin’ go with you, doll.”

You smile. I lean forward and kiss you.

“You happy, daddy?” Emily asks climbing onto the couch with us.

I pull back from the kiss with you to look at her. “Yes, baby girl. I’m very happy!”

“Yay! Now I don’t have to keep it a secret anymore, right, mommy?”

You laugh. “No, baby. You don’t.”

“Wait! She knew, but I didn’t?” I ask.

You giggle. “Mmhhmm. I had to tell someone, but I didn’t wanna get your hopes up yet. Plus, I had to take her to a doctor’s appointment with me one day while you were at work.”

I pout. “I can’t believe she knew before I did.”

You lift my head up so you can look me in the eyes. “Negan, honey. I didn’t wanna say somethin’ to you, see you get so fuckin’ excited you did for the last two, and then somethin’ happen. That’s the only reason I didn’t tell you. Believe me, I’ve wanted to tell you so many times, but I had to wait. Ok?”

I nod. “Yes, ma’am. I’m glad I know now!”

“Me too. It was gonna start to get hard to hide in a couple weeks.”

I chuckle. “You’re right ‘bout that. I can’t wait for you to start fuckin’ showin’!”

You giggle. “Don’t remind me. I’m gonna look like a damn beached whale.”

“Oh hush. You’ll still look just as beautiful as you always do.”

“You say that now.”

“And, I’ll keep saying it every day until I die.”

You blush and look at Emily. “Was that the last of the gifts?”

She nods. “Yep!”

“Alright. You can play with your toys now.”

She squeals, happily. “Yay!”

She rushes over, and sure ‘nough, the first thing she does is pull on the hockey jersey. She smiles a big fuckin’ smile the moment it’s on. I can’t help but chuckle.

“I’m gonna put mine on too.” You say, getting off my lap.

I nod. You get your baseball jersey and slip it on over your pajama top. I slide my football jersey on over my own pj shirt. It fits nicely. I look up as you smile at me and come back to sit in my lap. I wrap my arms ‘round you as you sit sideways across my thighs. 

You rest your head on my shoulder, but keep it so that you can still watch Emily play with her new presents. I lay my hand on your tummy, still not quite believing that you’re pregnant. I hold the ultrasound photo in my left hand beside your hip since my arm’s curled ‘round your back.

You and I watch Emily as she plays, neither of us saying anything. Everything ‘bout this moment is fuckin’ perfect. I’ve got you in my arms. Our little girl’s happy and playing. I’m happy, and I know you are too. And, we’ve both a baby on the way. 

The living room’s silent, save for the noises Emily makes as she plays. I let my eyes drift closed as I rest my head against yours.

“Daddy? Where do babies come from?” Emily asks after ‘bout twenty minutes.

My eyes jerk open and I stare at her, unsure of what to say.

“Uh...Ummmm...They...Umm...Storks!” I finally manage to say.