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latenightdaydreams · 21 days ago

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Christmas Party w/ König

MDNI🔞

Master List✍🏽

>cw:fem/afab, drinking, p in v, public-ish sex

🎅

König loses a bet with Horangi and comes into work dressed as Santa Claus during the small Christmas party being held in the common room. While everyone is sitting around and eating food while chatting, a heavy silence falls upon the room when König’s heavy footsteps disrupt the festivities.

In the doorway he stands with a scowl hidden beneath his cheap Santa beard. It’s the most anyone has seen of his face before, the only reason everyone knows it’s König is because of his massive size. The silence is disrupted by Horangi’s loud cackles; one arm wrapped around his abdomen as he points with his other hand.

“You look so fucking stupid!” Horangi nearly falls off of his chair.

König says nothing just walking in with a velvety sack over his shoulder. He walks up to Horangi and simply pushes his head to the side in anger. “Shut up.” He hisses.

You sit there giggling softly. König notices, blushing softly. He clears his throat trying to push down the butterflies he always gets when he’s near you. Walking past you, he sits on an empty chair and leans back.

Most people in the room go back to their small conversations, but you, with the courage of heavily spiked eggnog, stand from your seat and make your way over to König. He looks up at you with a surprised look on his face. Before he can say anything to you, you sit on his lap and place an arm around his shoulder.

“Hey there, Santa.”

“Hallo…” König’s voice cracks as he looks into your glimmering eyes.

Horangi looks at you sitting on his lap with astonishment.

“Am I on the naughty or nice list this year?” You ask giggling.

That giggle.

“You…” his eyes unintentionally drop to the curve of your breasts, “are on the nice list.”

“Am I?” You reach out and tug on his beard, lightly letting it snap back against his face.

“Ja…”

König can feel his cock beginning to grow erect as you wiggle on his lap slightly. The side of your leg rubbing against the crotch of his red Santa pants. His heart thumps in his chest as he tries his best to act unaffected by your presence.

“That’s a shame. I wanted to be on the naughty list.”

“Why would you want that?” He asks, chuckling slightly.

You giggle at the sound of his nervous chuckle. The light in the room makes his pale blue eyes shimmer in yours. His cock twitches slightly, bumping your leg and causing your attention to drift downwards.

“Maybe I wanted Santa to punish me.”

“Punish you?”

“Punish me.” You lean closer to him as you speak, the smell of the alcohol on your lips wafts to his nose.

König stands, grasping the plump flesh on your ass and hips, fingers digging in, as his hips ram into yours at a quick pace. His red pants dropped and resting around his ankles. Your loud drunken moans fill the room as your breasts bounce free from your blouse.

“Naughty girl.” König growls as his wide palm comes down to spank your ass, leaving a red mark in its wake.

“Fuck yes! Punish me with your fat cock!” You cry out as you feel the stinging burn from the slap.

“Perfect fucking ass…” Is all you’re able to understand before König begins to speak in German. Telling you how long he’s been wanting to feel you wrapped around his cock, see you underneath him.

A smile crosses your face as your body feels as if it’s floating on a cloud of pure ecstasy. You can feel yourself drop down the side of your leg each time his cock pulls out before pulling a pathetic moan from you once he buries himself back inside of you. Your head turns to look at him, the Santa beard barely even in his face, exposing his scarred handsome face. His eyes meet yours and he simply smirks before grasping a handful of your hair and forcing your face down.

Outside the door Horangi and a few other soldiers stand with jaws dropped and looks of shock on their faces. The sound of the creaking desk, flesh on flesh, and orgasmic pleasure pour out into the hallway where they stand.

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hyunsvngs · 17 days ago

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𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚, 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 - han jisung x fem!reader

wc: 2.4k

a/n: pwp based off of two images i saw of jisung's boobs in concert and then i went haywire and wrote THIS... MERRY CHRISTMAS !!! 🎄🎅 please read the warnings! 18+ SMUT MDNI!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: ROLEPLAY where jisung is santa for no particular reason, nipple play (m rec), oral (m rec), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie (i’m having a white christmas!), dirty talk, overall kind of not extreme but maybe a bit of d/s dynamics (both switchy)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

you don’t know what game you’re playing tonight.

jisung’s due back home any minute now. he’s been gone a few hours, last minute christmas shopping with friends, and he claimed he had a surprise for you. you asked to go with, claiming you needed to get a few things too, but jisung had simply told you he had a plan. it’s unusual behaviour for him, but he’s always doing sweet things for you - this could just be another one of those times.

still, you’re bent underneath the tree placing presents in nothing but your nightie and some fuzzy socks. you’ve had to light the fireplace to warm yourself up, but jisung always likes it when it’s cozy anyway. you expect that he’ll arrive home tired, but wanting, from the infrequent texts he’d sent you about missing you. there’s nothing you like more than snuggling with your favourite person on your favourite holiday, even if he does get a little too warm too quickly and ends up being more of a human radiator than anything else.

once you’ve finally found places for all of the gifts, you’re able to wriggle yourself outwards. with the multicoloured lights on and the fireplace lit, along with your many other trinkets… well, it may look like christmas has exploded in your living room. still, you’ve always loved christmas. you adjust a little santa ornament on your fireplace and allow yourself to lay on the couch, pulling a thick blanket over your body. it’s comfortable.

unfortunately it may be a little too comfortable. you appear to have dropped off, because when you wake up it’s a little darker outside. you hear the click of the lock, the sound of the door swinging open and heavy boots stomping in. you sit up, drowsy with sleep but ready to greet your boyfriend.

a few hums are heard from the door, soft and melodic, and you smile. it’s nice. you push yourself up, padding over to the front door, and- oh.

santa’s here.

sure, he looks a little different. under the fluffy white beard and velvet red costume you can catch glimpses of him. a snippet of black ink across honey toned skin when he moves, the sight of his chain dangling beneath the fabric - it’s him, your santa claus, you know it, and suddenly it all makes sense.

“santa!” you grin, walking over to wrap your arms around his middle. he lets out a small ‘ooph’, pretending he’s winded, but two toned arms wrap around your frame right back. “you’re here! early, too.”

“i had to be early for my favourite girl,” you feel the rumble of his chest when he speaks against your ear, and you nuzzle the fabric of his suit. over the time you’ve known your santa, you’ve learned he can be a little sleazy - you’re pretty sure he’s making his voice deeper on purpose, and his fingertips are already tugging up on your nightie to check if you have panties on. it doesn’t surprise you. “why don’t we go take a seat?”

you’re guided back over to your sleeping spot with a firm palm on your back, and you realise he’s got his gloves on too, black faux leather that you can feel even through your nightie. you stumble a little and santa catches you, using the position to sit down and pull you down with him.

one of those sinful gloved hands come up to push your hair out of your face. it feels a little fucked up you’re getting aroused over this, over fucking around with someone who isn’t really your boyfriend, but he meets your gaze with his own. the look in his eyes lets you know that it’s all intentional. “have you been nice this year, baby?”

“i’ve been so nice this year, santa,” you wiggle onto his lap, legs splaying over the side. you receive a gummy smile in return and the feeling of his hand moving up your thigh. it’s sleazy, and you’re slicking up already. it smears against your thighs. “don’t you remember? just last week, i fingered your asshole until-“

“al-right,” he stammers. “doing naughty things isn’t very nice, y’know?! it’s actually the polar opposite. hah, polar.”

his facade is cracking, and you giggle, letting your hands run over his chest. you can feel the muscles beneath his suit. “i thought it was nice, santa. you seemed to like it. a lot, actually, if the noises were telling at all.”

“u-um, you’re not- this isn’t how this is meant to go,” his eyes are wide and ever so brown, the multicoloured lights bouncing off of them. he looks so earnest, almost innocent - if you’re pretending you can’t feel his cock hardening underneath your ass. “i’m meant to- you’re- baby.”

you’re already moving, swinging your legs back over to kneel on the floor in front of him. despite his protesting, he’s letting you, always pliant. his arms fall to his sides and his knees kick apart. his boots make a heavy thud on the wooden floor, the same platform boots you thought he’d retired years ago, and you want to ask him about them but he’s moving your hands to his cock.

while your santa is pliant, you are too, and you give in.

you pull his trousers down, letting the waistband snap just underneath his balls. the pressure pushes his cock upright for you, hard and plump and leaky, and you engulf it with your mouth without a further thought.

“this is why y-you’re my favourite,” he gasps shakily, thighs spreading further. with a flick of his hand, the red velvet jacket falls open, and you’re met with the tattooed honey skin you’ve been craving all along. he’s built, chest plump enough to make your mouth water, and he rubs his thumb over his nipple while you suckle on his cockhead. “that’s it, my sweet baby. suck santa’s cock, just like that.”

your jaw aches already, head reeling from how fast everything is going. you pull off with a wet pop, and with your spare hand you stroke the shaft erratically, your spit acting as lubricant. it’s all too wet for him and his hips buck upwards into your grip. a sharp whine leaves his lips, preceding the heavy breaths that he lets out.

you can’t help but let your other hand move down to his balls, running over the taut skin there. his thighs shake, and you pump harder, squeezing deliberately to watch how precum forms on the head.

“come and kiss me,” he orders, pushing your hand away to replace it with his own. he looks the image of debauched, cockhead ruddy red and sensitive, and he pulls you upwards impatiently to his mouth. you’re laying over him like this, tits pressed against his through your nightie, and he finally leans up to press his lips against yours. immediately, the kiss is filthy, his tongue pressing into your mouth with the deep moans and muffled noises he lets out at the feeling of his own grip.

it’s not long before he’s pushing the same gloved hand past your nightie again, wet from your spit and his precum, finding that you definitely are not wearing panties. he moans into your mouth again, digits finding where you’re wet and aching for him. his lips clack against yours messily as he pushes two fingers inside of you - it’s just a precaution, not meant to be anything more than a quick stretch. still, when your fingers scrabble for purchase on his chest and your nails dig into the plump flesh, he finally pulls away from the kiss and sinks a third finger inside of you. the faux leather is warm from his natural body heat, and you gasp, hips grinding into his palm rhythmically.

“f-fuck, that’s- you’re stretching my pussy out so good, santa,” you keen, keeping your words filthy because you know how he likes it. as you expected, he groans, head tossing back against the sofa and causing his hat to slide onto one side. his cock aches, pressing against your thigh. you can’t help but rub against it just to be cheeky, and his thumb comes to your clit as a punishment. “o-oh! oh, santa, please, will you give- give me more? i want your cock, please!”

“yeah, of course, my baby, of course, just- get this off? get it off,” he’s impatient, gripping at your nightie and pulling it each and every way until you finally sit back and yank it off of your body. instead of wasting any time, your santa is shifting forward, letting his fingers slip from your soaked hole.

he slides inside at the same time his pouty lips envelop your nipple. he’s always been engrossed with your chest, just as much as you are with his. while he’s letting you adjust, his hands move to your ass and squeeze the flesh, eyes fluttering shut as if he’s sated just being inside of you - you know him better than that, though. once you’ve readjusted the red hat on his head, you start to move your hips.

“oh, that’s it,” it’s muffled against your chest, but you hear it, along with the deep groan that leaves his chest. he tries to remain in control, hips moving against yours. “this fuckin’ pussy. been needin’ it all day, baby, you don’t even know.”

“that’s why you came early, santa, right?” you say shakily. the trimmed hairs at the base of his cock rub against your clit in a way that has your eyes watering, and you quicken the pace, pussy clenching down on his shaft. “needed your baby’s pussy too bad. it’s here now, santa, why don’t you just take it?”

“fffuck,” he leans back on his forearms, nodding, eyes scrunched shut. you can tell he wants to take, to force your pussy to take his thick cock, but the feeling of it all is too pleasurable to think. he’s always been a bit too sensitive. you can tell it’s not going to be a long one already, and your hand snakes down to rub fast circles on your clit. “ah, it’s so- it’s so wet, baby, so wet around my cock.”

you moan, moving like a woman possessed, hips rutting into a fast bounce that has him pistoning in and out of you. it’s then that he takes a little more control, grip moving back to your ass to bounce you on top of him. his cock hits deeper like this when he’s pulling you back and forth, and your toes curl in your socks, nose scrunching at the wet sounds reverberating throughout the room. it really is so wet, and you only have your santa to blame.

your hand slaps over your clit just after he opens his eyes, and they narrow, fixating on your pussy. his chest is heaving, and then in a split move, he’s pushing you down flat onto the sofa.

“keep rubbing it, keep- keep going, i need to cum,” he babbles, shaking his head. he’s out of it, and both gloved hands pin your hips down so he can take it from you. his hips move erratically, balls slapping against your skin, and with one hand you do exactly as he said, rubbing the little bundle of nerves until you’re wailing into his neck. the other hand splays against his stomach, almost as if you’re pushing him back, but he’s too strong for that. “it’s- me, now baby, talk to me. talk to hannie, my baby, c’mon.”

“h-hannie,” you hiccup, tears biting at your eyes. “‘s so good, jisungie, baby. i think i’m gonna cum.”

“yeah? why don’t you cum for me?” jisung questions. the white pom pom of his hat swings in front of his eyes, but jisung’s fed up by now, ripping the fabric from his head and tossing it to the side. it’s nice to see him properly, his face unobscured by taunting red fabric, and he gives you a gummy smile.

the sincerity of him, your boyfriend, your one true love is ultimately what does you in. your gummy walls clench around him, finally letting go, and your fingers slide messily across your clit until you’re finished crying through your orgasm. jisung isn’t far behind, and his lips come to kiss your forehead as he holds you close and pumps you full of his cum.

unceremoniously, jisung collapses with another ‘ooph’, sweaty chest pressing against yours. you know it’s intense for him to cum so quickly, and you run your nails up his back underneath the jacket to soothe him. he hums and wiggles his hips around in glee, as if he’s not still inside of you.

“so,” you yawn, letting your nails run down to scratch over his ass. jisung’s hips buck into you this time. “where did the santa idea come from?”

jisung leans back and rubs your nose with his, giggling. “no idea. it wasn’t even the original plan.”

“it wasn’t?” you gasp, attempting to sit up. “then what was it?”

“what was what?” jisung furrows his eyebrows. you groan.

“what was the original plan, jisungie?”

“oh, that!” he slides out of you, and you try not to giggle at the way he surges off of the sofa with his dick still out. “i’ll show you, just wait there!”

you really do giggle when he runs out of the door, tripping over his trouser legs. you think he’s going to return with the surprise, but then he pokes his head round the door, that same wide grin on his face.

“merry christmas by the way, my baby. i love you.”

#juno's fics ♡#han jisung fic #han jisung fanfiction #han jisung smut #han jisung imagines #han jisung x reader #jisung fanfiction #jisung smut #skz scenarios #skz smut #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines

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professionalchaoticdumbass · 16 days ago

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🤠🎄 GIDDY UP 🐴🐎👋 JINGLE WHORE!!! 👯‍♂️🍆🔥🍑👅❄️👋😹🎁 SEXMAS 🎄☃️❄️🎅🛷🎁💚❤️ is here 🤩 and U’ve sure been N A U G T H Y…!! 😈🤭🤤😏😍😜 All year 📅 Santa 🎅😍 has been watching 👁️ u FAP 👊💦😩 and tonite 🌚✨ he’s cumming 👣🦌🛷 to give u his 😳🎁 BIG PACKAGE!!!! 🎁🍆🤤 To get gingerBRED 🍪🍑👈 just 🍬🍭👅 POP💥🤸 that Peppermint Pussy 🍭🌭🍬🎇 n wait under the mistleHOE 🌿🎋😘🍒😱 with a nice cup of hot COCKolate ��️🍆🔥 Jolly Old 🎅 Saint DICK 🙏😌😍 will shove 👊 his 🍆💦🟢 Jingle Balls 🔴🎄🤤💦 right down ⬇️⏬🔽 ur 😣 TiGHT lil CHIMNEY! 🍑😫🤤🏠 U better watch out… 👀🙇 hes 🎅 gonna make u cry 😱😏😩🍆💦😜💦 Time is tickling ⏰⏰ SEND 💌📲 this 🤳 to TEN (🔟) FESTIVE FREAKS 🎅🏿👯‍♀️🕺 if u get 🔟 BACK your a 🤤😏 STUFFED STOCKING SLORE 😍🧦🎁💝😻👀😳 get 5️⃣ BACK and ur a 😈🐎😈 Horny Xmas Ham 🙈🐷🤪🪵🔥😉😏 but if u get 0️⃣ back 😵 u got a 🔥 DRY C🅾️AL CUNT 🧆🌵😰😭😱🥲🍑

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kaiwewi · 17 days ago

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Their First Villain

Secret Santa gift for @the-modern-typewriter Prompt: "Scary villain x hero in a Christmas setting of your [the writer's] choice. Could go spicy, could go whumpy, could go unexpectedly sweet!" Hope you like this! Merry Christmas!! 🎅🎁

“You recognised me,” the villain observes, his tone unnaturally flat. His face betrays no emotion.

“Kinda hard not to, with your…” – the hero tilts their head at where the villain’s magic continues to spread, coiling around their limbs and securely fixing them in place – “…snake thingies?”

The individual tendrils really do vaguely resemble snakes, although the magic in its entirety reminds them more of some writhing alien monster plant from an old Sci-fi B-movie whose title they cannot remember. It’s not a good comparison anyway. The movie hadn’t been scary at all.

They experimentally try to wrestle one of their arms free, but despite the magic’s apparent fluidity, the moment they push or pull in any direction, whatever give appeared to be there all but disappears and they can’t move a millimetre.

“Oh.” The villain’s eyes widen. “You can see it.”

“See it. Feel it. Didn’t expect it to be this hot.”

An awkward pause follows.

They are decidedly not blushing. It’s just warm. All of them is so warm now that the villain’s powers have moulded themselves around the hero like something liquid but alive. Wherever the tendrils touch bare skin – their ungloved hands and that area just above their ankles where their pants don’t quite meet the rims of their boots – the raw energy buzzes, prickles just short of stinging.

They’d been shivering just minutes ago in their much too thin poncho and the not seasonally appropriate Agency office uniform. Well, they still are shivering, just no longer from the cold.

Where the villain’s magic is fever-hot, his scrutiny runs icy.

“You can see it, but not fight it,” he muses. “How curious. The Agency must be understaffed to send their defenceless little office drones out into the field.”

The hero would be glaring if the villain weren’t underscoring the point by pulling his magic tighter with the mere flick of a finger. That small, anxious sound that escapes them in response brings a self-satisfied grin to the villain’s lips.

“It’s Christmas,” the hero says, once the magic has settled again.

The villain raises a brow.

“Most of the regulars are on holiday, Christmas being a time best spent with family … or so I’m told.”

“Yet you are working.”

“Don’t have anyone.” They aren’t technically without family just … Sometimes, family isn’t a place of refuge and welcome. Not a home to turn to for holiday celebrations or company. Some families fashion themselves exclusive clubs with strict rules that refuse or revoke memberships as they please. The hero forces some levity into their tone. “I have nowhere else to be today, so, I’m helping out here.”

The villain chuckles. “Helping is perhaps not what I would call that.”

“Hey, I did recognise you,” they say, defensively.

“And look where that got you.” His smile is sharper than before, meaner. “Am I your first villain? My heartfelt condolences.”

They don’t dignify that with an answer. But the answer is yes. The villains they watched being interrogated through one-way mirrors at HQ don't count.

“Pity,” the villain says with zero warmth, “that you couldn’t just look the other way. What is it with you people that you're always so eager to cause unnecessary conflict.”

“Reporting suspicious behaviour is kind of my job.” It comes out barely above a whisper and carries the distinct cadence of an apology.

“Ah yes, and my mere existence struck you as suspicious behaviour because …”

Admittedly, once they’d recognised the villain, they hadn’t taken the time to consider his appearance beyond the magic he’d been wearing around his shoulders like a particularly weaponizable scarf. The lack of a combat suit in favour of a sleek, dark coat over a woollen jumper and cargo joggers – either an outfit designed to blend in or just what the villain happens to like to wear when he isn’t working – hadn’t registered any more than the total absence of weaponry other than his powers. And while he could have hidden those better, it’s not like he could have simply left them at home.

There hadn’t been time to ponder. It had all happened so fast. Their eyes had met, and a moment later the hero had already been scrambling away from the crowd, past a stall selling mulled wine and into the nearest alley, where they’d scrolled through their contacts with stiff, unfeeling fingers. The villain had caught up with them before they’d managed to call for backup.

Their gaze darts to the remnants of their smashed phone, sprinkled across the muddy snow, mere metres away but entirely useless even if they could reach it.

What if the villain hadn’t had anything nefarious planned? What if the hero’s brain had naturally jumped to the most prejudiced conclusion all on its own?

Of course, it is unfair to treat his mere presence as if it is a crime. But the things he could do ...

They think about the parents with their cameras, filming their ice-skating children, the squealing toddlers on the merry-go-round, the nice old ladies selling tea out of the back of a car.

“You could be a danger to all those innocent people,” they defend their judgement.

“And you could be a danger to me,” the villain replies coolly. “Would be unwise, letting someone roam free who can pick me out of a crowd with a glance. Perhaps I should thank you for revealing yourself. Very ill-advised. But quite convenient. You were so obvious about it, too.”

He has crossed the distance between them while speaking. Close enough now to reach out and tuck an unruly strand of hair behind their ear with his cold, slender fingers. His other hand settles almost gently on their throat, atop the magic that has slivered around their neck at some point during the conversation.

The tip of a new tendril is in the process of worming its way lower, nestling into the collar of their shirt. It laps against the crook of their neck and they cringe away from the touch as much as the magic allows. It doesn’t hurt. It would be so much easier if it did. The touch is light; it kind of tickles and, given the overall direness of the situation, the hero really isn’t in the mood for that. Or, they shouldn’t be.

Unhelpfully, their traitorous mind supplies them with a thoroughly inappropriate image of what else someone who isn’t the enemy could be doing to them with magic such as this.

“Tell me,” the villain says as the power shifts upwards, tilting their chin back with the movement, so his nails can bite into the newly exposed skin below their jaw, “is there anything else troublesome about you, or is it just the eyes?”

He looks most pleased when their breath hitches despite their best efforts to remain stoic. His grip tightens. He’s studying them intently, staring at their eyes like those are priced gems he considers adding to his collection.

Maybe, underneath the mockery, he actually does consider them somewhat of a threat. If he didn’t, why would he be looking at them like that.

It’s stupid, truly and utterly stupid, to feel flattered. This is not respect, they know, just sharp, calculating consideration. His attention promises imminent danger, might turn lethal at any second. It’s not something they should revel in. Still, it feels good, too – being seen.

Has anyone ever really seen them before?

Or perhaps that is the lack of oxygen speaking.

They struggle to focus their vision but all the twinkling Christmas lights in the trees are starting to smudge into dull, red and golden blurs. Vertigo is clawing at them.

There is absolutely nothing they can do against the villain's grip. They're so pitifully out of their depth.

They think about their bland, only half-furnished two-room apartment; their first day at the Agency HQ; their nth day – no more eventful than the first – sitting at the exact same desk in the exact same office and working on the exact same old computer; their colleagues’ looks of pity when their 14th application for a transfer to field work is being denied and their boss tells them, in stern admonishment, that their skill sets just aren’t suited to solo missions. They think about her condescending smile when she finally does assign them the Christmas market job, clearly convinced the worst thing that could possibly happen here is people getting drunk enough on punch to start throwing punches.

They think of their first split-second impression of the villain as just another guy standing by the ice rink with a cup of something steaming in his hands and a mellow, unguarded smile curving his lips.

They hope this montage doesn’t count as their life flashing before their eyes. It’s way too sad a summary of their depressing lack of accomplishments.

They think, with equal parts age-old bitterness and new-found sarcastic vindication, about their colleagues’ infantile, unofficial, end-of-the-year office rankings where flashier heroes with more impressive abilities always receive titles such as most likely to hook up with a hot reporter or most epic battle or best one-liners.

Meanwhile, all the hero has to show for are three consecutive wins of least likely to die on the job.

Which might have been a reassuring sentiment if it weren’t so clearly code for “you’ll never be a real hero”. Real heroes risk their lives on the job all the time.

Well, look at them now!

Will their colleagues manage to come up with a new title for them in time, they wonder, if the villain kills them now, just a week before this year’s poll results will be released?

Most unexpected death has a nice ring to it.

They should be trembling in terror. Might have, if the villain’s magic weren’t encasing them so – tight but soft and deceptively warm, lulling them in. The sticky heat of it leaves them squirming, stuck in a confusing limbo between gooey not-quite-discomfort and hot-bath sluggishness.

They’re drifting. Until they’re not.

It’s impossible to discern how much time has passed or when exactly the villain has released them; but their thoughts are beginning to clear and their brain catches up to the fact that there is air in their lungs again, and that the breathless, hiccuping gasps uncontrollably tumbling out of their mouth aren’t sobs. It’s laughter.

“Are you enjoying this?” The villain sounds incredulous.

They shake their head. “I don’t know,” they manage, between hysterical giggles. “Maybe. Yes?”

“How did you know I wouldn’t kill you?”

“I didn’t.”

That startles a short laugh out of him.

“I’ve never” – they pant, still struggling for air – “felt this alive before.”

“That sounds ... unhealthy.”

There is a long pause in which the villain silently stares at them while they are more or less regaining control over their breathing.

“You wouldn’t get it,” they say then, perfectly aware they must seem most unhinged. “Bet you don't even know what boredom is. Because your life is fun. Mine is not. I practically live at my stupid job, and my stupid job doesn't even pay well. No one there gives a fuck about me. And nothing exciting ever happens. So can I please just have this one damn moment without being judged?”

The villain hums, low. “And here I thought we were ruining each other’s days.” He presses a hand to their forehead. “Did the heat fry your synapses?” he asks, sounding more amused than concerned. His other hand comes up to cup the nape of their neck, as if he can’t help but reach out. Just as they can’t help but lean into the cooling touch. His gaze drops, as if drawn, to their lips. “Or, are you just naturally this unusual?”

They can smell gingerbread and mulled wine on his breath.

“Are you going to kiss me?” they ask, because yes their synapses are definitely fried and they do not care about consequences, awkwardness, or sanity anymore.

“Would you like me to kiss you?”

“I’d certainly much rather be kissed than killed. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he repeats, smirking. “But we've established I’m not about to kill you. And that wasn’t a yes.”

“It’s not a no either.”

“Not how consent works, darling.”

They scoff. “You didn’t ask for consent first when you strangled me five minutes ago.”

The villain laughs again, in genuine delight judging by how his magic ripples and purrs.

“Okay, fair enough,” he whispers, shifting so his lips almost brush theirs.

The kiss that follows is sweet, surprisingly chaste, and initiated by the hero.

“So, since you mentioned earlier you have nowhere else to be today,” the villain says, afterwards, mischief gleaming in his eyes. “Have you ever had the pleasure of being kidnapped?”

Pleasure, as it turns out over the course of the next few hours, is an understatement.

If anyone at the office were to find out what the hero has been up to during their first (and best) and possibly only solo field mission, not only are they guaranteed to get fired, their colleagues will also surely create an entirely new office ranking category in their honour:

First to be seduced by a supervillain.

#secret santa #secret santa snippets #secretsantasnippets2024 #the-modern-typewriter #merry christmas #heroes and villains #hero x villain #scary villain x inexperienced hero #snippet #writing snippet #writeblr

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hotvampireadjacent · 1 year ago

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Twas the night 🌑 🌙 before 😂 DICKmas 🍆❄ 🌌🌠🎄and all 💯 through the house 🏠 🏠, BIG 😱 ERECTIONS ⬆ 🍆 WERE STIRRING 💯👌👀, AS BIG 😱😩 AS A MOUSE 🐭. 😮🙌🌭🌽Their SCHLONGS were hung 🍆🍑 ⬇️ from their groins 🍆 with good 👌 care 💅, 🏒 In hopes 🙏🙌 🙏🏼 MAGIC ✨🧙‍♂️ PUSSIES 🐱 😻🌈😜 soon 🔜 would be there. 😮😮 The SLUTS 👅💦 were all 💯 nestled, snug ⬆ in their beds 🛌 😴🛌 while dreams🤔💭 of RED 🔴 ❤️🔴DILDOS danced👯💃in their heads😊😴👅 And daddy 👨💍😍 in his 💦 G-STRING😉🌚, and I 👥 in the SACK🛏🎊😄 had just settled 👍 down 🔻 for a LONG😉📏📕📙 winter’s THWACK‼️🔞🗯😝

Only a few ⏰ more hours 🕐 🕰 til ⬆ Santa 🎅 🎅🏾CUMS!!! 👊🏻💦🎊 Make 💘 sure 💯 your 👉🍆💦 cookie 🍪😳 🍪 is yummy 😋🤤 ✔️enough for him 👴 🎅🏿 to eat 👅🍑! 👅👅 Send 📨📬 this to 1️⃣2️⃣ of your 👉🏿 SLUTTIEST 👄 😈 DICKMAS 🍆❄ 🌽COCKSUCKERS 🌽 to get 🉐 BUTTFUCKED 😵😵😵 by Santa’s XXXtra 🎅🏾 long 🕚 💈 North 👆 Pole 💈! 💈Have a MERRY 🎊 DICKMAS 😜👃🏻💦 and a SLUTTY 🍆💦 😜 NEW 🆕 YEAR 📆📅 😘😘😘

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lutavero · 18 days ago

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@tellmegoodbye 's AO3 summary for @tarlos-santa 2024!

Hi Harley! I was your Secret Santa this year! 🎅 I got inspired by your "anything inspired by my fics" prompt - I know it was literally the last option 🙈 - but I simply couldn't choose! So I went and made a little something for all of your Lone Star fics! It's full off little easter eggs on every gifs, my favorite is definitely how every single "This fic is" are from your comments on those fics! I really hope you'll love them just as much as I loved to make these! Happy Holidays!! 🎄🎄✨✨

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vanteguccir · 17 days ago

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── ୨୧ !　CHRISTMAS BLURB

dad!matt sturniolo x reader

Y/N and Matt set up the house on christmas eve after their daughter goes to bed 🎄🎅

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The warmth of the fireplace crackled softly in the background, a cozy contrast to the chill of the snowstorm outside. Y/N and Matt sat together on their plush red-ish couch in the living room, their Christmas tree glowing brightly with a rainbow of twinkling lights and ornaments they had collected over the years. The scent of pine mingled with the faint sweetness of cookies left out on the table by their daughter just hours ago, complete with a small glass of milk.

Their daughter, Ava, had been bubbling with excitement all evening, her little voice ringing out as she read her letter to Santa aloud for them one last time. She had written it a week ago, complete with adorable misspellings, before carefully sealing it in an envelope addressed to the North Pole. After she had set out the cookies and milk, Y/N had carried her upstairs, humming a soft Christmas carol until she drifted off into her holiday dreams.

Now, the real magic began.

"Okay, so step one." Matt whispered over the gentle hum of the Alexa speaker on the kitchen counter, softly playing "Silent Night", leaning over the coffee table with a pen in his hand.

He grabbed the paper they had carefully tucked away earlier and began drafting the reply from Santa.

"What should Santa say to her? I don’t want to disappoint her, but I also don’t want to sound too over the top."

Y/N laughed softly, leaning over to look at what he’d written, her hand finding home on his hair, turning it messier than it already was.

"Matt, she’s six. Over the top is the bare minimum for Santa Claus."

"Right, right." Matt muttered, tapping the pen against his pouty lips in thought. He scrawled a new line in his handwriting. "How’s this? 'Dear Ava, Thank you so much for your beautiful letter! Mrs. Claus and I loved reading about all the kind things you’ve done this year'."

"It’s good." Y/N said, nodding with approval. "Make sure Santa says how proud he is of her for being such a good big helper to us. She loves hearing that."

Matt grinned.

"Got it. Santa’s totally her biggest fan." He finished the letter and held it up for Y/N to inspect.

She read it aloud, her voice soft.

"'I hope you enjoy the surprises I left under your tree. Remember to keep being the amazing, kind, and thoughtful little person you are. Merry Christmas! Love, Santa'." She smiled at Matt. "You’re good at this. Maybe you should moonlight as Santa’s secretary."

"Don’t tempt me." Matt joked, folding the letter and slipping it into a red envelope.

Next, they set the floor. Y/N carefully grabbed the glittering bag of artificial snow from their Christmas stash and handed it to Matt.

"I love this part so much."

Matt crouched by the fireplace, dusting a liberal amount of snow on the hearth, making it look like Santa had just stepped through the chimney. Then, he stood up, sliding his Prada boots on and stepping into the snow. He left a trail leading the fireplace to the table with the cookies and milk, and finally to the tree.

Y/N shook her head at his exaggerated movements, smiling.

"You’re such a dork."

"Well, you married me." He teased, winking at her, straightening up and looking at his work. "What do you think?"

"It’s adorable." She said, crossing her arms in front of her red sweater. "Now, the cookies. Don’t forget to leave a bite."

"Right." Matt agreed, grabbing a cookie and taking a large, exaggerated chomp. He replaced the bitten cookie back on the plate and downed the milk with a long gulp. "Santa’s full. And he’s gotta go deliver more presents."

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes.

"Was the cookie good?" She asked, briefly looking at the slightly deformed cookie they baked earlier with Ava.

"It was delicious." Matt smiled softly, pulling her close for a quick kiss before they got back to work.

Together, they placed the beautifully wrapped presents under the tree, making sure each one was strategically positioned to create the illusion of Santa’s careful delivery. Y/N made sure to add a few extra bows to the larger ones, while Matt adjusted the smaller ones for maximum effect.

As they stepped back to admire their work, Matt sighed, draping an arm around Y/N’s waist.

"Do you think she'll believe it? Like, really believe it?"

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with the glow of the Christmas lights.

"Of course, she will. This is magic to her, Matt. It’s magic to me, too."

Matt smiled, his heart full.

"I can’t wait to see her face tomorrow morning."

They sat on the couch for a moment longer, basking in the peacefulness and stillness of the house - something they rarely experienced these days. Y/N broke the silence with a quiet laugh.

"Chris and Nick are going to lose their minds when they see all this tomorrow."

"Chris is going to leave the whole house covered in fake snow." Matt said with a grin. "And act like it’s my fault."

"And Nick will probably try to eat all of Ava’s cookies." Y/N added, shaking her head while looking at the plate full of cookies above the kitchen counter.

They both chuckled, imagining the chaos of Christmas lunch the next day, but for now, the house was quiet, and everything felt perfect.

Matt squeezed Y/N’s hand.

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

"Merry Christmas." Y/N replied, leaning her head against his shoulder. They sat together, the glowing tree casting a warm light over the room, as snow continued to fall softly outside.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

merry christmas, lovelies ❤️

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gold-onthe-inside · 17 days ago

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Christmas Request: Spencer catches wind that one of JJ’s kids (or his own kid) doesn’t believe in Santa, so he commits to growing out his beard, dying it white and dressing up as Santa to bring a lil holiday cheer to the kiddos - can be xOC

santa's little helper 🍬🎅

who? spencer reid (post prison) x bau!reader

summary: after finding out henry no longer believes in santa after he missed last christmas, spencer dedicates this year to bringing the magic of christmas back to his godson's life... with a little help from you, of course.

content warnings: fleeting reference to cat adams, a little kissing, spencer with a beard, ambiguous status of reader's relationship to spencer (could be a wife, fiance, girlfriend, up to you),

In the 12 years you've known Spencer, he's never been keen on growing facial hair, and it had never been something you'd thought twice about. And then Cat Adams had come into your lives and had been determined to ruin the happily ever after the two of had fought so hard to make. Spencer's prison sentence had rivalled only Emily's faked death in the pain it had caused you two, the only difference being that at least Spencer wasn't actually dead. The two of you were a month and a half away from the anniversary of his release, and he'd completely stopped shaving for that year, growing out his facial hair.

You hoped that if it was something serious, he'd have told you, or if not you, his mandated therapist. Besides, other than that, he was taking care of himself, eating well, had finally started sleeping better, you had nothing else to complain about. You'd brought the beard up a couple months ago, but his brow had furrowed in concern and his brown puppy dog eyes baring his heart to you when he asked if you didn't like it. "No, I do like it," you had insisted, which was true. You'd learned early on that Spencer could play around with his hairstyles and you found him no less attractive (just never ever grow out a mullet again, for the love of God).

You'd grown used to it, too, his scruff tickling you when he'd kiss you, which was practically every time he got the chance these days. It's your turn to host the Christmas Eve party and the two of you are going over the house with a fine tooth comb, armed to the teeth with cleaning supplies, and that's when you find the white hairspray, mid-way through your bathroom cleanse. Which would go well with the Santa suit tucked away in the back of his wardrobe. You knew Spencer had his silly moments - with his mismatched socks and magic tricks, and with the amount of times he's pulled stuff out of your ear just to make you smile couldn't be counted. But it felt out of character for him to spend the whole night you had planned (Secret Santa, dinner, and Christmas movies) with white hair and a beard.

He's using all the body strength he has in rigorously cleaning the kitchen floor, intent on making it so clean you could eat off of it, when you trudge downstairs, hairspray in hand. "Spence, is this yours?" you asked, skipping the last step, to the kitchen and he looked up, then froze at the sight of the hairspray.

"It's not what it looks like," he tried, sitting on his knees and you narrowed your eyes.

"It looks like you're planning to dress as Santa at some point," you said, leaning against the doorway, and you watched him stand up and pull off his gloves.

"Okay, yeah, maybe it is what it looks like," he said with a sigh, taking a seat on a bar stool. "Henry, uh, doesn't believe in Santa anymore, so JJ and I were planning to let him stay up tomorrow night and catch Santa in the act."

"Oh," you said, nodding at first, but then frowning a little. "I mean, what's wrong with Henry not believing in Santa? He's like, 9 years old. That happens."

"I know it's developmentally appropriate for him to be questioning these things," Spencer said, letting out another little sigh. "But that's not why he doesn't believe in Santa anymore."

Your frown deepened. "What do you mean?"

He wet his lips, not quite meeting your gaze. "Last Christmas… he asked Santa for me to come home," he said quietly, almost ashamed. "And then when I wasn't there…"

"He stopped believing in Santa," you filled in the rest and he looked so sad. "Spence," you said softly, crossing over to hug him, setting the spray on the kitchen island. "It's not your fault."

"It is," he said, choking a little on his voice as he tucked himself into your arms.

"Honey, you were framed, it's not your fault," you insisted, rubbing his back.

"I just… I can't be the reason he doesn't believe in these things anymore," he mumbled into your shoulder.

"Okay, okay," you said, pulling away to look at him, your hands cupping his neck, thumbs stroking his bearded jaw. "Can I help?" His lips twitched into a smile at you.

"Well, um… Honestly, I think I'm gonna make a mess of the hairspray, and you did such a good job at Halloween with Jack's Cyberman costume--"

"I can do that," you murmured, kissing him gently, and his hands loosened to grasp your waist.

Now, here he sat in front of the mirror in the bathroom, watching you meticulously section and spray his hair, which was already damp from the shower.

"Did you know," he started, and you hummed in recognition that you were listening. "That Saint Nicholas was a real guy? He was Greek."

"The Greeks had saints?" you asked.

"Not really," he said, shaking his head as you sectioned out another piece of hair, coating it gently in white hairspray. "Not the kind you're thinking of, but Nicholas of Myra was real. Born in the third century. He apparently had a reputation for secret gift giving, like… leaving coins in people's shoes."

"Keep your head still," you chastised through a giggle.

"Sorry," he mumbled, tilting his chin up to keep still. "He died from natural causes in like, 340, which, for the time, was a good run. It was like… a hundred years later that he became a saint, but by then of course, all of the people who knew him personally were long gone."

"I hate when that happens," you murmured, shifting his chin so you could colour his beard next. "Appreciating people for what they've done after they've died."

"Well, he was very well respected during his life. The story goes that three separate couples were having financial trouble, and in those days, a daughter without a dowry would either never get married or would become a prostitute. So, according to the story, Saint Nick came in the middle of the night and climbed onto their roofs, and dropped three small pouches of gold down their chimneys."

"Honey, I'm gonna need you to be quiet or you're gonna taste hairspray," you said, colouring his jaw, just the hair around his lips left.

"Sorry," he said, his words muffled slightly, and you could see that he was trying desperately not to smile, his shoulders shaking. "I'm done," he said, and you were fairly sure the shake in his voice was from suppressed laughter.

You chuckle quietly, colouring the last of his beard. "All done, Mr Claus."

"How do I look?" he asked, getting out of the chair and taking a look in the mirror, his eyes going wide. "This looks incredible!"

"Yeah?" you asked, stepping away. Spencer had a habit of exaggerating your accomplishments, but you had done a pretty good job with his hair.

"You're a miracle worker," he said, turning to face you, and you could see his excitement. "Now, Santa needs to go get dressed." You chuckled, stepping out of the bathroom so he could get dressed, and sat by the foot of the bed, waiting.

When he reappeared ten minutes later wearing the Santa suit, the white hair and white beard you'd given him made him look like an old man, but there was a brightness in his eyes as he did a little twirl. "How do I look?" he asked, and in spite of how silly he looked, you couldn't help but find him handsome.

You laughed to yourself. "Perfectly in character. Though you could use a little belly."

"Are you saying I'm too thin?" he said, faking offence. He knew he was skinny but sometimes a little gentle ribbing was warranted.

"I'm just saying, Santa's supposed to be fat."

"I take good care of my cardiovascular health, thank you very much," he said, and he looked so ridiculous in the suit, with the white hair and beard, that you were unable to take the conversation seriously. "You know, the modern version of what Santa's supposed to look like was invented in the nineteenth century," he said, his hands on his hips, still very much in character. "Before then, Saint Nick was usually described as an older, slender man, and before that, he was more of a demonic black man. It's only in the fifties that the modern image of Santa was created."

"Okay, okay," you said, holding your hands up. "Skinny Santa it is." You checked your watch. "We should go before Henry actually falls asleep."

Spencer's expression went from Santa to slightly terrified very quickly. "Crap, is it time already?"

"Relax," you assured him, kissing his cheek before leading the way out. "It's just a little breaking and entering. You leave the gifts, you slip right back out."

"Just a little breaking and entering," he repeated dryly. "Why doesn't that make me feel better?"

You snickered quietly, grabbing your coat and car keys. "For someone who's supposed to be a hardened felon, you're so innocent."

He took offence to that. "Hey," he said, as you both started out of the house. "I was incarcerated for three months. I am very much street wise now."

You opened the passenger side door for him. "Streetwise? Really?"

He climbed into the passenger seat, sticking out his tongue at you as you shut the door.

"I know all about the street life," he said, as you got into the driver's side. "I know how they talk, I know what they do, I know..." His voice trailed off as you shot him a look. "Okay, so maybe everything I know about the street life comes from television."

You couldn't help another laugh as you started the car.

His lips curled into a smile when he saw your reaction, and he leaned across the middle of the car to kiss your cheek. He sat back in his seat and you began the short trip to JJ's house. "Alright, JJ said she's gonna leave the back door open," you said, going over the plan with the same gravity you used for unsub takedowns. "There's cookies and milk left on the kitchen counter. The tree's in the living room."

"Got it," Spencer said decidedly, nodding. "Cookies, milk, tree, simple."

You turned off the headlights as you approached the house, killing the engine across the street. Spencer got out of the car and jogged across the street, ducking around the side of the house. He found the back door like you'd said, and went inside, very much in undercover Santa mode. He went into the kitchen, making for the counter where the cookies and milk were, and that's when he heard it. Quiet footsteps coming down the stairs. Spencer panicked, trying to find a place to hide, but there really wasn't one. The cookies and milk were left in the middle of the counter, there weren't any cupboards or anything of the sort. He was stuck, with only the Christmas tree as a possible cover. There was nothing he could do but hope that whoever was coming downstairs didn't flip on the light as he dove behind the tree.

The footsteps stopped, and Spencer held his breath, his heart thudding in his chest as the Christmas tree needles dug into his skin. He could see a pair of little feet in front of him. They weren't JJ, which could only mean- "Mr Claus?" the little voice said, and he shut his eyes, praying to something, anything that he hadn't been caught by Henry.

After a long moment, he peeked out from behind the tree, only to find Henry staring right at him. "H-hi," Spencer stuttered. "I-I didn't realise you'd be awake."

Henry's eyes went wide. "I-It's really you." He had that childlike glee that came with finding out about the magic of Christmas, and while Spencer would usually give anything to have that look come back on Henry's face, this was a little inconvenient.

"Ah, I-I mean," Spencer fumbled over his words, trying to come up with a valid reason he would be in JJ's house at this moment, wearing a Santa suit and munching on cookies. "Um..."

"Where's your reindeer?" Henry asked, completely enthralled by Spencer, and he realised that he actually hadn't thought of a cover story to accompany the Santa suit.

"Oh, they're in the- they're in the sleigh," he said, and even he thought it sounded stupid when he said it out loud. "They're getting a rest while they can."

"The ride must be hard," Henry said, and Spencer was quietly impressed by that. He was just as smart as his parents, and he probably would have called him out on his lie if he'd given an excuse about a magic sleigh.

"It sure is," Spencer said, trying to keep his voice calm, and he hoped that the rest of the night wasn't going to be as awkward as this interaction had been so far. "Do you mind if I finish eating these? I only get so many breaks tonight." It was the sort of thing he could imagine a real Santa saying and Henry's eyes widened at that.

"Oh, of course," he said, stepping back. "I, uh, need to go to the bathroom." And then Henry was running upstairs. Once he was sure the kid had walked away, Spencer leaned against the wall, letting out a sigh and he silently hoped that you weren't watching him struggle. He finished off the last of the milk and the cookies, and, once he'd composed himself, he made his way to the living room and over to the Christmas tree. He dropped the bag of gifts under the tree, just as he was supposed to.

Meanwhile, Henry was upstairs, trying to get JJ to wake up. "Mom, Mom," he said, shaking his mother gently. "Wake up, Mom, you gotta see this."

JJ grumbled as she got up, Will shifting beside her, but still deep asleep. "What is it, Henry?"

"Santa is downstairs," he said in an excited whisper.

"He is?" JJ asked, rubbing her eyes and yawning a little, Henry pulling her out of bed with all his might.

"Yep. He's downstairs in the living room," he said, dragging her out of bed, and he wasn't kidding because his strength was remarkable. JJ let her son pull her down the stairs, neither of them seeing Santa sneak out the back door. He jogged across the street to the car, getting inside. You watched him in mild amusement as he shut the door, and he was slightly out of breath, which was a comical combination with the Santa suit.

"Mission accomplished?" you asked, a smile on your lips.

"I got caught," he breathed, his voice sounding slightly panicked, and your smile faded into concern as you realised he was serious. "But I think I covered it."

"Did he realise you weren't Santa?" you asked.

"I don't think so," he said, and he did seem a little unsure. "He didn't mention anything about it, and he seemed excited by me being there, but I honestly don't know. It's probably a fifty-fifty chance that he realized it was me."

Meanwhile, Henry had dragged his mom downstairs to an empty living room. "I swear he was here," Henry protested, and JJ was still half-asleep and only slightly confused. "I-I saw him."

"M sure you did, baby," JJ murmured. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

"No, I did see him!" Henry said, looking around the living room. He ran into the kitchen. "And he was eating the cookies and the milk!"

"Well, he probably left, Henry," JJ reasoned, following him. "He's got a lot of kids to deliver to."

The wonder on Henry's face was replaced with disappointment, and JJ pulled the nine year-old into a hug. "I know it sucks, baby," she said. "But I'm sure Santa will have left you lots of gifts." Henry huffed, pouting, and JJ smiled down at his adorable expression. "Come on," she said, starting up the stairs. "Back to bed, kiddo."

Once they reached upstairs, Henry climbed into bed, and JJ tucked him in. He looked slightly upset, but JJ planted a kiss on his forehead. Even at nine-years-old, he still wanted to believe in Santa. "So, you believe in Santa again?" JJ asked.

"I told you," Henry said, his voice indignant, sounding very much like his father. "I saw him."

JJ couldn't help a smile, ruffling his hair. "I know."

He gave her a sleepy smile, and then yawned, snuggling down into bed. “Goodnight, mom,” he mumbled.

"Goodnight, baby," JJ murmured. She watched him for a moment, waiting for that slow rise and fall of his chest that meant he was breathing like only the asleep could, and once she was sure he was asleep, she tiptoed out of his room, shutting the door quietly behind her, thanking Spencer in her head.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #jennifer jareau #henry lamontagne #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic

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allwaswell16 · 1 month ago

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🔔 It's December! That means it's One Direction Advent fic season! Advent fics are generally posted daily from December 1 to December 24/25. Don't forget you can subscribe to the author to get a daily email reminder to read their Advent fic! 🔔

🕯️ All The Lights by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 {Fic post}

“As you know, every year Syco Industries throws the Holiday bash of the year. Their annual Christmas Eve charity ball, held in the building’s lobby.”

Louis arches a brow. “Robbing a Christmas charity? That’s your brilliant idea? That’s a little low don’t you think?”

Niall snorts. “The only charity that money is going to is in Simon Cowell’s pocket and we both know it.”

He’s not exactly wrong.

“Alright sure, but I’m pretty sure Santa still frowns upon stealing.”

Niall just grins.

“Being on the nice-list is vastly overrated anyway.”

(Or a holiday heist featuring a rag-tag team of lovable criminals, a pair of exes who hate each other except for when they don’t, and a lot of festive chaos along the way).

🎁 You Should Be Here With Me by @lululawrence {Fic post}

The festive period is a traditionally hectic one in the world of Premier League football, and this year is no different. A lot is riding on how Manchester United is able to come through the fixtures in the coming weeks.

Louis and his teammates know all too well the pressure that is on their shoulders. They need to prove, not just to fans of the club but the entire league, that they still have what it takes to be a team worthy of fighting for the top of the table.

Throw in the fact that Louis is all too aware that he's not getting any younger in a profession that demands your peak physical fitness year round and the incredibly fit Harry Styles, who is part of the club's social media team, and this year's festive period might just be the most important one yet.

🎅 Your Reign is Free (to give along to Santa) by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {Fic post}

It’s Christmas Eve. It’s a totally normal Christmas Eve. Harry and Louis have some friends coming by, and some totally normal birthday and Christmas plans. It’s a totally typical totally normal Christmas Eve.

A fic that takes place over 24 (+1) hours where surely everything will go totally to plan.

🦌 You'll Never More Roam by @tommokat {Fic post}

Harry likes his job as a traveling nurse. It pays well, it allows him to travel across the country, and he doesn't have to worry about an annoying coworker past an average of 13 weeks. The pros of never staying put have always beat the cons. Until one of those cons has bright blue eyes, a fluffy companion, and a heart of gold.

Tax exemptions don't hold a candle to Louis Tomlinson. And as Harry's about to find out, neither does his heart.

🌟 Find a light, hold tight by louisismycat / @liminalkittyfics {Fic post}

a fic about finding light and holding tight - hanukkah for everyone!

Told from the gentile perspective of Louis, recently widowed and trying to cultivate his son’s connection to his paternal Jewishness, Find a light is intended for everyone — Jews and gentiles alike — who might find comfort in the light, wisdom, and warmth of Hanukkah.

🔔 Larry Xmas Countdown by 28goldensfics / @28goldens {Fic post}

Harry and Louis will stop at nothing to make each other happy, even if that means robbing Buckingham Palace for a set of priceless bells they use to ring on Christmas morning.

✨ Twinkling Lights, Fated Nights by Darling28 / @darling-28 {Fic post}

Louis is an Omega who doesn't like being told what to do and is happy with his single life in the snowy town of Frostbrook after a terrible previous relationship. But then Harry turns up - an Alpha who is anything but the typical macho. Instead of giving commands, he makes an effort to understand Louis, which annoys him more than anything. But Harry doesn't give up.

And maybe that's exactly why they fit together so well: Two people who don't fit the cliché at all, but who suddenly feel more for each other than they would have expected. In the midst of lights, snow and mulled wine, something begins to grow that neither of them had planned - even if Louis would rather not admit it.

A story about healing, love and finding home in each other.

❄️ Fluffcember 2024 by Candy_Kittens / @candyfloss-kittens

A collection of one-shots for Fluffcember 2024. All of these one-shots will be for One Direction rpf.

🌲 Through the Riots – Will You Guide Me When I'm Lost? by childofthelarents

His hands had a death grip on Harry's arms, making him unable to push back. "Fuck you," Harry growled, looking like he was seconds away from punching Louis straight in the face. The softness of his features had been replaced by pure fury, the green of his eyes burning into Louis' soul. As the seconds passed, Harry seemed to realize the lack of space between them, his eyes growing less piercing and more irritated as he scanned Louis' face.

~ Louis had his heart set on rooming with his best friend Zayn, but fate—or a cruel housing assignment—stuck him with Harry, who seems to hate him instantly (and boy, is that feeling mutual). Determined to find a way out, Louis quickly realizes that their fiery clashes only make things worse, fueling the hostility between them. Yet, as tempers flare and boundaries blur, their battles take an unforeseen turn, shifting into something neither of them expected.

☃️ Fading Shadows by Arezou_Styles

A cosy tale of life in 2024, almost canon, centers on Harrys and Louis marriage, their family life and quite some self-discovery that this year brings for both of them. Loads of info on ADHD included.

🎄 Christmas Play by @itstilliswhatitis

December is Harry's favourite time of year. The neighbourhood he bought a house in three years ago has a yearly Christmas decoration competition, and this year, he's set on winning. At least until his new neighbour, Louis turns out to be a grumpy Christmas Grinch. To make matters worse, his new neighbour happens to be his co-star in the new play Harry just bagged, playing the love interest to his role as first lover. The play is like a really bad fanfic, and everything is a disaster. This might be the worst December ever!

❤️ Hearts All Whole by @justanothershadeofblue {Fic post}

Father Louis Tomlinson hasn’t seen or talked to his high school boyfriend in over a decade, not since they went to different colleges and slowly grew apart. This means it’s a bit of a surprise when he looks out from the pulpit on the first Sunday in Advent and sees Harry Styles’ unmistakeable head poking up from a pew halfway back and on the left. How’s a priest supposed to make it through the madness of the holiday season with his very friendly, very attractive ex distracting him at every turn?

🛷 You are my home, my home for all seasons by starryhaze / @starryhaze28 {Fic post]

“I love you,” Louis says quietly, his voice tender. Harry’s not sure if Louis is talking to him or the camera, but either way, the words settle warmly in his chest.

Louis moves closer, holding the camcorder up, and Harry blushes as the lens focuses on him. “Look at your mummy,” Louis coos, directing his words at their unborn baby. “Isn’t he just the prettiest, carrying you?”

Harry giggles, shaking his head. “Your daddy is ridiculous,” he responds, looking pointedly into the camera, his voice light and teasing.

Or the one where Harry is seven months pregnant and he and Louis navigate the chaos of Christmas as they try to juggle festive traditions, their families, and friends while preparing for the greatest gift of all, the arrival of their baby.

🎁 Wrapped it up and Sent it by downcamethelightning / @downcamethelightnings {Fic post]

Harry was the only real crush he’d ever had. There had been people he’d shared classes with, or seen in the school hallways who he’d thought were cute, but he never had any interest in anyone beyond that point. Louis had always felt like he simply didn’t care enough about anyone to actually dedicate any time or energy to liking them, or going out with them.

But Harry was the exception.

With some (heavy) convincing from his friends, Louis decides to risk it all and tell Harry how he feels about him, and Christmas seems like the perfect time to make a move. Everyone's happy during the holidays anyway. Maybe it'll weaken the possibility that Harry will hate him forever if he doesn't feel the same.

An incredibly fluffy, teenage Christmas advent fic.

🧣2024 Advent Calendar by larryftnoctrl / @the-larry-way {Fic post}

25 independent one-shots with wintery/Christmas themes centering Larry Stylinson

#Advent #adventfics2024 #honestly if i'd known how long this would take me i probably wouldn't have put this together lol #onedirectionfanfiction #Larry fanfiction #also writers if you have one and it's not on here let me know!#or if I couldn't find your fic post let me know where it is!#I know of one more still posting so i'll add that when it does post

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hvaneyflowers · 1 year ago

Text

First love... and the only. ***********

Lewis Hamilton x femreader! single mother!

You took your little son to meet Santa Claus and accidentally ran into your ex-boyfriend, Lewis Hamilton.

You and Lewis were together for three months during your high school time. You broke up after he started to get more serious with his racing career, and you decided that it didn't go with the lifestyle you had planned for you.

So you went to college and met a new guy, while he became a seven-time world champion. You got married and had a beautiful son, but your husband cheated on you with his secretary and left without saying goodbye. So now, you were a single mother of a toddler named Lucas. You were happy with your life. Being a mother was the best thing that had happened to you, but, deep inside you still miss Lewis. Every time you see him in the news you wonder how life would have become if you two were still together. Maybe you'd have the family you always dreamed about.

Little did you know, was that Lewis still misses you, too. He was engaged to his girlfriend of 7 seven years, Nicole, but never found the same happiness as he had when he was with you. He always thought about you and what had been life for you. He found your Instagram and found that you had a son, so you must be married. It hurt to see you with another man, but he knew he couldn't complain because it was you who decided to put a stop to your relationship.

Indeed, it was you who broke up with him. You were young and you were scared of the life he had planned for him. Becoming an F1 driver and a world champion. It sounded fantastic a first, but you immediately realized that it wasn't for you. Or that was what you wanted to think. You were scared of the fame he would have. All the people around you didn't stop telling you how he would cheat and leave you for a supermodel, or how he would be at parties every weekend and fall out of love with you. You didn't want to get hurt so you decided to break up with him.

Now you were with your little one waiting to meet Santa at the same place where Lewis was doing his Christmas shopping with the dog that would catch your son's attention.

******

yourusername

liked by 5.000

yourusername: we met Santa! 🎅

comments were disabled.

*******

"Come on, my love. We're going for a piece of chocolate cake!" you told your little son.

"Pup!" your one-year-old screamed enthusiastically as he saw a dog walking near him. He let go of your hand and ran fast to the dog.

"Lucas! What have I told you? Never let go of mommy's hand when we are outside with a lot of people." you scolded him, putting on your knees to be his height.

"sowee, mommy. But pup!" he said pointing to the dog again.

"Be good to him, okay?" you warned him.

"y/n? y/n l/n?" someone asked behind you.

You frowned your eyebrows as you listened to your name. That voice. You could swear you've heard that voice somewhere. Maybe on TV or the radio. But who was its owner? You turned around slowly only to find your high school sweetheart. Lewis Hamilton.

"Lewis," you whispered in shock.

In front of you was the seven-time world champion of Formula 1, Lewis Hamilton, or as you used to call him, "my love". He looked just as surprised as you. You had never seen each other again since your graduation more than 15 years ago. He looked so handsome. Age has been good to him.

"Pup!" your son's voice got you out of your thoughts.

"His name is Roscoe. Roscoe, say "hi" to our new friend," he kneeled down, petting his dog.

"Say "hi" to Roscoe, Lucas. Be gentle, baby," you told your son, doing the same as Lewis.

Lewis looked at you as you were speaking to your little son. You looked as beautiful as you were the last time he saw you 15 years ago. He was still in love with you. He quickly took a look at your hand. You weren't wearing a marriage band, so you must be single. Maybe he can try to be with you once again. He won't let you go again. Not this time.

"Do you want to drink coffee with me?" he asked you without warning.

You looked at him in disbelief. You wanted to cry. Memories came through your mind, remembering how much you still loved him.

"Yes!" your son answered, running to Lewis. He laughed and hugged him.

"Do you want some hot chocolate, buddy?" he asked him.

"Yep" the little kid answered.

"And you, y/n?" he asked you. You looked him in his eyes, and you could swear he was almost begging with them.

"Yes, I would like it." you finally answered with a little smile.

"Fantastic! For the good old times." he smiled.

You went to a cafe outside the mall. Lucas was so happy to be there with Roscoe. They were best friends already. You sat in front of Lewis. You were nervous, like when you were a teenager on your first date.

"And... How are you? Long time no see." you broke the ice.

"Good. Everything's been good," he said.

"That's fantastic." You smiled.

"And you? You're a mother now. That's wonderful," he smiled, pointing to the toddler hugging his dog. Poor dog, you thought.

"Yes. His name is Lucas, and he's almost two. The best thing that could have happened to me. He's everything to me. My true love," you smiled, seeing your son.

"He's so cute, and I believe you're an amazing mother." he smiled at you.

"Thank you. I try my best." you laughed a little. You had missed this the most. The softness of being around him. His smile and laugh. God, you miss him a lot.

"And your husband?" he asked. Your smile faded down.

"I'm divorced. He left me for another girl. Much younger than me. We filled up the papers, and he left. He never came back, and Lucas doesn't know him and doesn't have his last name. It's only me and him." you told him staring at your coffee mug.

"He sounds like a jerk," he said, a little angry.

"He is," you laughed.

"I miss you," he confessed after a short silence.

You looked at him in surprise. He misses you like you miss him. Your eyes were full of tears. You wanted to cry. So many emotions and memories.

"Don't cry. I didn't tell you that for you to cry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. My fault." he tried to calm you down.

"It's not that. I just... I miss you, too. A lot." you confessed.

He smiled, and so did you. He rubbed your cheek with his hands and leaned to kiss you. You kiss slowly, not wanting to waste any feeling of it. You both had waited for that moment for so long. It felt unreal. When you pulled apart, your son was looking at you with curious eyes.

"Mommy?" he asked you.

"Hi, baby," you laughed at his cute angry face.

"Did you like your hot chocolate, buddy?" Lewis asked.

"No buddy," your son said, without looking at him.

You both laughed at your little son and spent the rest of the day talking about each other, enjoying your company. In the next few days, you were still in contact, and Lewis invited you and Lucas to spend Christmas with him. An invitation you didn't reject.

lewishamilton

liked by yourusername, georgerussell63, and 500.000 more.

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: Roscoe made a new friend at the mall, and I found the love of my life. Meet my first love and the only one, y/n. Love you, babe!❤️

view all 400 comments.

username2: WHAT?!

username8: DID YOU HAVE A KID AND DIDN'T TELL US?!

username0: I think that is his new girlfriend's kid.

username9: Roscoe looking good as always!

username3: Congrats! She's so beautiful. Sending love!

georgerussell63: I HAVE A BABY BROTHER!

landonorris: you meant Roscoe has a baby brother. You're more like an uncle. georgerussell63: I'm not so old! mickschumacher: if we're talking about ages, well, we should mention Fernando. He's the oldest. landonorris: Omg, yes! He gives vibes of being the grandfather! georgerussell63: So it's like this: Me: the (favorite) uncle. Lando: the second uncle. Mick: the third uncle. Fernando and Toto: the grandparents. I like it. landonorris: me too. mickschumacher: 👍 fernandoalo_oficial: what?

username83: LEWIS IS NOT SINGLE ANYMORE! I REPEAT: LEWIS HAMILTON IS NOT SINGLE ANYMORE!

username98: she's so beautiful! Congrats! I hope you're very happy with her!

username76: YOU'RE A DADDY NOW!

username4: that kid doesn't know who he has as a stepdaddy. SO LUCKY!

yourusername: ❤️

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco, and 1.000 more.

tagged: lewis hamilton

yourusername: I've always loved you❤️

lewis hamilton: ❤️

Comments were limited on this post.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x you #f1 christmas #formula 1 christmas #mercedes #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton christmas #mercedes amg petronas #mercedes amg f1

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aisquaredchoco · 9 days ago

Text

Advent gifts out in the wild! Thank you everyone for participating!

To the ones who missed out the 12-day event, or just wanted to revisit the goodies, here's everything under one post. Enjoy! 🎅

More info below the cut..

🎄 DAY 1: 2to3 Kitchen & Bath "Tres Rugs by Sleek Sensations"

This rug actually has five presets (I said only four in the advent post *facepalm*), where one preset has only one channel, three have varying color channels, and another one that is not recolorable. Found in Decor > Rugs, costs §430.

🎄 DAY 2: Cozy Patio Table

I made this table using the legs from the "Deluxe Cozy Terrarium" from Outdoor Living, then put a glass top and voila! A cozy patio table. Five slots as with any 1x1 dining table with one channel. Found in Surfaces > Dining Tables, costs §200.

🎄 DAY 3: 4to3 Snowy Escape "Bamboo Forest Fence"

Yep, we are still lacking various fences in TS3, hence converting this gem from Snowy Escape. Three channels, costs §25. Found in Build mode > Fences.

🎄 DAY 4: 4to3 "RAW Utensil Holder"

For the clutter lovers, here's something for your kitchen, if you also love the industrial accents from TS4 like me. Four channels, costs §430, found in Decor > Sculptures, Misc.

🎄 DAY 5: 2to3 Kitchen & Bath "FaceBowl by Sleek Sensations"

This conversion took almost a year in the making and thought would never get finished, but here it is, finally ready to conquer your bathrooms! Four channels, costs §670, found in Plumbing > Sinks.

🎄 DAY 6: Outdoor Living "Class-E Dining Table" Unornated

I love the stuff from Outdoor Living, but why didn't EA make un-ornated versions of the furniture for variety? And so I did the work. Same channels and slots as the original, only differs in price which is now §825. Found in Surfaces > Dining tables. Outdoor Living not required.

🎄 DAY 7: 2to3 Apartment Life "BLOK Jr. Block from COGnition"

I miss the industrial/gearhead aesthetic from TS2:AL and this wall is one of those, so I converted it. Three channels, costs §11, found in Walls > Panelling.

🎄 DAY 8: Outdoor Living "The Poet's Respite" Unornated

Another un-ornated piece of furniture from Outdoor Living (I just couldn't stand the cursive elements sometimes @.@). Lowered the price to §300, everything else is left intact. Outdoor Living is also not required.

🎄 DAY 9: 2to3 Kitchen & Bath "Pots Descending from Ceiling"

I hate repeating myself, but yeah it's nostalgia that's the main reason why I convert 2to3 items. Especially from this stuff pack, I'd love to convert everything else left unconverted from it (but the counters stop me from doing so). Two channels, costs §160, found in Decor > Sculptures, Misc.

🎄 DAY 10: 4to3 Max20 Shark Plush Toy

I've been pondering if I should put this one up for download, because I couldn't find the original cc post to link. But having seen this 4to2 conversion, I figured I should also share it. Two channels, costs §100, found in Decor > Misc, Kids > Misc. Credits to Max20 for the original TS4 creation.

Fun fact: I own a real life counterpart of this plushie (I got this as a secret santa gift), and now my cat has already claimed it as his property. 🐱🦈

🎄 DAY 11: Ambitions "Le Sconce" made fully CAStable

I hate it when EA decides to make an object part unrecolorable when there are actually many ways to redesign it, like in this default replacement I did on a mirror. This wall lamp now has the emblem CAStable, and also edited the mask into three channels for a more versatile recolorability. This is a default replacement, so you need Ambitions for this to work properly.

🎄 DAY 12: 4to3 "The Centurion"

Need something to fill your dining room but too lazy to decorate it using shelves and clutter? Say no more! This pre-decorated hutch from TS4 is now also available for TS3! Three channels, costs a hefty §1880 (why EA?), found in Decor > Sculptures.

POLYCOUNT INFO:

Tres Rugs by Sleek Sensations: 80 (hLOD)

Cozy Patio Table: 526 (hLOD)/220 (mLOD)

Bamboo Forest Fence: 44 (main)/48 (diagonal)/12 (post)

RAW Utensil Holder: 250 (hLOD)/220 (mLOD)

FaceBowl by Sleek Sensations: 1356 (hLOD)/877 (mLOD)

Class-E Dining Table Unornated: 750 (hLOD)/257 (mLOD)

The Poet's Respite Unornated: 994 (hLOD)/360 (mLOD)

Pots Descending from Ceiling: 2122 (hLOD)/1190 (mLOD) (!!!)

Max20 Shark Plush Toy: 750 (hLOD)/444 (mLOD)

The Centurion: 420 (hLOD)/360 (mLOD)

DOWNLOAD FOLDER: Simfileshare | Mediafire

*All converted items contain catalog descriptions from their respective original games.

**I would also like to thank @simlicious for her wonderful selection of Christmas themed patterns, one of which I used on the wall in the previews, found here. Please check out her website if you haven't yet..

#ts3cc #download #dl:buy #dl:build #dl:defaults #sims 3 #ts3 #4to3 #2to3 #ts4 to ts3 #ts2 to ts3 #simblr #sims 3 cc finds

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