#i love you all and wish to kiss your foreheads

[pathologicalreid]

christmas (baby please come home) | s.r.

in which Spencer isn't home to put his kids to bed on Christmas Eve, but they wake up to a surprise on Christmas morning

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: spencer's first post prison christmas, frankensteined the plot of "surface tension", the same family as "here with me", crying, christmas word count: 3.19k a/n: merry christmas!! this is kinda like my gift to you, mostly since it's been sitting in my brain for forever!!!!!!! i love u all! also happy first day of hanukkah if you celebrate <33

“But Daddy’s not home,” your daughter whimpered as she shuffled under her covers, she looked up at you with wide, curious eyes.

You carefully smoothed out the top of her floral comforter, “I know, baby,” you whispered, reaching up to pinch her cheek affectionately. You’d let them stay up late to watch the Santa tracker, but eventually, Finn fell asleep on you, and Livvy’s yawns were enough to convince you that it was bedtime. “You still have to go to sleep. Santa will come whether Daddy’s home or not, and we’ll just do the gifts from Mommy and Daddy when he gets back.”

At three years old, Olivia was beginning to understand Spencer being gone the same way Eleanor did; she knew his absence was entirely out of her control, and that didn’t sit well with your middle child. You knew you had gotten incredibly lucky when Spencer had been home for Finn’s birthday and Livvy’s had fallen during his sabbatical, but you also knew that you were due for a missed holiday, you just wished it could’ve been Thanksgiving or New Year’s.

You kissed her forehead before leaving, making sure to leave the door open a crack so the monsters wouldn’t get her before you went to Nell’s room. “Hey, honey,” you whispered, closing your eldest’s door behind you before going to sit on the edge of her bed. She had her own Christmas tree set up in the corner of the room, the artificial purple tree providing the glow that her nightlight normally would. “Are you ready for bed?”

Nell was lying on top of her covers, staring at her still ceiling fan as she ignored your question. While Livvy was just starting to understand what it meant when Spencer was gone, Nell understood it best, and she had for years now. She’d understood when Spencer was in prison, and she understood that he was missing Christmas now.

Slowly, you laid down next to your daughter, propping your head up on the bed and smoothing her hair back. “It’s still Christmas,” you tried to reassure her, but part of you knew that it was a thankless effort, there was nothing you could tell her that would fix her father’s absence. “We can call Dad in the morning while we open presents,” you offered, hoping she’d appreciate you coming halfway. “If he’s not busy, maybe we can video chat, and you can show him everything Santa brought you.”

“It’s not the same,” she told you, furrowing her brows and turning away from you on the bed.

Sighing, you pressed a kiss to the back of her head, “I know, Nellie. I know it’s not fair that he doesn’t get to be here for Christmas, but Daddy will come back.” There was a sense of urgency in your voice; you were afraid that if your five-year-old lost the joy in Christmas, you’d somehow failed her as a mother. “He’ll be home for your birthday, I promise,” you whispered.

“You can’t promise,” she reminded you, knowing that you and Spencer were generally very specific about your promises, leaning toward the ‘I promise I’ll try’ variety.

You hummed in response, “I’d pinky promise you that. Dad will be home for your birthday.” You held up your pinky finger, waiting for her to roll over and reciprocate.

Eleanor rolled over, holding up her pinky finger while brown eyes watched you apprehensively, “Okay,” she breathed, hooking your fingers together and kissing them.

As soon as Spencer told you about the bureau’s contingency to him returning to the BAU, you’d done the math. Eleanor’s sixth birthday would fall near the beginning of his next sabbatical, so you didn’t hesitate to make this promise. “It’s time for bed, my girl,” you whispered, smiling at her softly as she pulled the sleeves of her Christmas pajamas over her hands. “Santa can’t come if you’re not asleep,” you reminded her, sitting up on the bed and getting up, tucking her purple comforter under her chin before you made your final stop of the night.

You’d brought Finn to his room before getting the girls settled, but now that you knew they were alright, you came back to his room. The white noise machine was going, and he was fast asleep in his crib. His pacifier, which you were trying to wean him off of, had fallen from his mouth and onto the sheets, so you set it to the side. To you, the second Christmas was always more exciting than the first, now that he was fourteen months old, he had the dexterity to help open presents.

Ruffling his hair, you kissed him goodnight, just like you’d done with the girls, and you left his room, closing the door so that no one would disturb the light-sleeping baby.

There was a late night ahead of you, but first, you settled yourself onto the couch in the living room and pulled out your phone. Upon opening your messages with Spencer, you couldn’t help but be disappointed to find that there was nothing unread. You thought about sending him a text telling him that you all miss him but eventually decided against it. You didn’t want to make him feel guilty. At least, no more guilty than he likely already did.

You turned on the TV, quietly playing a Christmas movie as you began the festivities. All of the gifts had been expertly hidden in the master bedroom, split between being shoved under your bed and in your closet, but a new playhouse for the girls had been dropped off earlier. It was too big for your room, so your parents had stored it in their basement in the interim.

That would be a struggle to bring in from the garage, so you decided to start small, pulling all of the kids’ stockings from their hooks and laying them out on the floor before going upstairs to get the stuffers.

With the movie playing, you filled the stockings with treats and little toys. A few times you imagined your phone buzzing, but each time there was nothing on the screen. The loneliness started to set in as you rehung the stockings, making sure the kids’ names faced forward above the fireplace.

This wasn’t your first Christmas alone, Spencer had been in Idaho for Olivia’s first Christmas, but neither of the girls remembered it.

They’d remember this one, you thought to yourself, walking back up the stairs to grab a load of boxes. Thankfully, they were already wrapped, but you did have to avoid getting ribbon in your mouth as you carried the armful of gifts down the stairs.

Masterfully, you adjusted them beneath the tree, trying to visualize where they’d all end up in the end as you heard something distantly, but you brushed it off as someone leaving your neighbor’s holiday party. You stood up, wiping your hands on your pajamas as you evaluated your handiwork, shrugging before you turned around for the next load, “Oh,” you breathed, watching the handle on the door from the garage turn.

The door opened slowly, revealing your husband on the other side, his black peacoat draped over his arm and purple scarf looped around his neck. He hooked his car keys on the key hook before he noticed you, brown eyes finding your pajama-clad figure. His lopsided smile was all-knowing as always, he knew he had surprised you. In fact, it had been his goal.

You remained exactly where you were, watching him from the den as he put his shoes away and hung up his outerwear. It was almost as if you’d convinced yourself he was a mirage, and any sudden movements would cause his visage to dissipate. “Hey,” Spencer said, cocking his head at you as if he were confused why you hadn’t come any closer to him. He peeked around you to look at the tree, “Did the kids get to bed okay?”

Instead of answering him, your body naturally responded to what seemed like the miraculous appearance of your husband by producing tears. At first, they just welled along your lash line, but as they started to fall, you buried your face in your hands.

Spencer was there, not only in the house but also taking the initiative to approach you, he wrapped his arms around your torso, taking your tearful form under his care, “Is everything alright?” He asked, slowly dragging his hand up and down your spine, humming as you reciprocated his embrace and pressed your face into his shirt, drying your eyes and taking in the moment.

“Everything is wonderful,” you responded, your voice muffled by his shirt. He smelled like stale dark roast and the jet, but you were too relieved by his arrival to truly mind.

Tightening his grip briefly, he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, “Right, well. You’re crying, so I had to make sure,” he murmured, swaying gently to the music coming from the film.

You loosed a breath of relief, “I can’t believe you’re here. The kids were miserable at bedtime, Nell wouldn’t even talk to me until I told her you’ll be home for her birthday,” you informed him, keeping your arms wrapped firmly around him while you tipped your head back to see him.

Spencer nodded in understanding, reaching up a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “We made the arrest at eight and wrapped up around nine. Somehow, Emily convinced the pilot to leave in the middle of the night, and we were on the jet by ten. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve spent holidays in worse places, but I’d rather be here with you than in Milwaukee.”

“I will kiss Emily Prentiss on the mouth,” you told him candidly.

He raised his brows curiously, “Mhm, and what about me?”

Grinning, you pushed up on your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his, an amalgamation of a welcome home and a Merry Christmas kiss, but you pulled away before you could get carried away. “Merry Christmas, Spencer Reid, we have work to do,” you told him, taking on a mock seriousness as you nodded your head toward the Christmas tree, which only had a fraction of your kids’ gifts beneath it.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” Spencer reciprocated, pressing one more kiss to your lips, “Let’s get started.”

Spinning out of his grip, you found you had much more pep in your step with his arrival, beaming as the two of you went through the house as quietly as possible, gathering the gifts for the kids without rousing any suspicion. Even grabbing the playhouse from the garage didn’t seem like as much of a task with him around.

You adjusted the stockings as it neared two in the morning, Spencer returned from upstairs with the last few gifts, having changed his clothes into pajamas that neatly matched yours—a family set that was a gift from your Penelope. “They look great,” Spencer assured you, pushing his glasses up on his nose as he stood back, admiring your handiwork.

Walking backward until your back was against your chest, you tilted your head to the side, appraising the mountain of gifts beneath the tree, “Do you think we went overboard this year?” Between the gifts from Santa and the gifts from the two of you, the heap was rather intimidating.

“No,” Spencer answered, “bigger kids, bigger gifts.” He put his arms around your waist, resting his chin on top of your head, “besides, they’re good kids.”

You hummed in response, leaning into him ever so slightly. Part of you felt like Spencer was still experiencing guilt surrounding the three months he spent away from you and the kids while he was in prison. No amount of time at home or therapy would ever absolve him of that guilt, but it never hurt to try, “Hey,” you whispered up to him, “I got you something.”

He frowned down at you, “I thought we said no gifts this year?”

Scoffing, you walked over to the home office, “We say that every year and neither of us ever stick to it, so go get whatever it is you got for me.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, but even so, he made his way upstairs to where you knew a gift was hiding in his bedside table. Upon his return, he faltered at the large box you’d placed on the coffee table and held up the small box in his hands; you beamed at him as he eyed the behemoth of a present.

He handed you the smaller box, instinctively, you admired the wrapping before starting to open it, recognizing the jewelry box before you had even discarded your wrapping paper. “Oh, Spence,” you said, looking at the necklace in the box, a dainty chain with five small gemstones on it. His birthstone and yours, followed by Nell’s amethyst, Livvy’s sapphire, and Finn’s tourmaline all strung next to each other, “it’s perfect,” you told him, lightly touching the gems with your fingertips. You’d mentioned wishing you had an everyday necklace a few weeks ago while getting ready, and he must’ve been listening more attentively than you’d thought.

Finally, you had him open his gift, and he was entirely speechless as he opened the cardboard flaps. His mouth gaped as he lifted one of the books in his hand, the title and edition identical to one that had been previously ruined in your house. “Fuck,” he cursed, looking from you to the books and back again.

You shrugged, “It’s not all of them, but a pretty good amount of them. Some of those editions are proving difficult to recover, but I’ve—” You’re cut off, startled by Spencer pressing his lips to yours. “I’m still looking for some,” you said breathlessly once he pulled away.

Spencer seemed unsure of what to do with himself; you’d managed to find replacements for three-fourths of the books that had previously been burned by an accidental fire set earlier this year. The only time your marriage had ever been on the rocks was when Diana lived with you, but even then, you’d been planning this surprise. “You are…” Spencer started, uncharacteristically at a loss for words, “This is incredible,” he told you, shaking his head in disbelief, setting the book down in the box and nearly tackling you in a hug.

Laughing, you buried your face in his shoulder to muffle the sound, “I love you,” you murmured to him, his body now next to yours on the couch.

“I love you too,” he said, looking at you with glassy eyes. “Wow,” he said, sniffling, “I need to get you something else. A necklace isn’t enough,” he told you, likely already thinking of options for addendums.

You shook your head, “Trust me when I tell you that your being here is worth all of the rare books in the world to me,” you reassured him, running your fingers through his hair. Humming, you adjusted your head on the pillow, “Are you gonna fall asleep like this?”

He nodded, “If you keep playing with my hair like that. How long do you think we have until they wake up?” He asked, keeping his eyes closed while you peeked over him to check the time.

Last year, Finn had woken up the whole house on Christmas Day at four in the morning, and seeing as it was nearing three, you wondered if it was worth sleeping at all. You continued combing through Spencer’s hair, “Do you want to go upstairs?”

“This is a really great couch,” he mumbled, already falling asleep on the couch, leading you to grab the blanket that was thrown over the back and haphazardly drape it over the two of you.

Unfortunately, it felt like you’d gotten no sleep at all when you heard the first stirring upstairs, “Mommy,” Olivia called out, which would likely wake up Finn and Nell.

You got up from the couch, waking up Spencer in the process. Your poor husband, who was probably already running on little sleep, got up and folded the blanket you had been using, returning it to its home while you went upstairs to get the kids.

Livvy’s eyes went wide when she saw you come from downstairs, “Did Santa come?” She asked you, nearly bouncing with excitement.

As you expected, the door to Eleanor’s room swung open, revealing your sleep-deprived five-year-old in her rumpled pajamas, “Yes, Santa brought gifts for everyone,” you answered, ruffling her hair before going into Finn’s room, hoping to wake him gently before the voices did a less delicate job. “Hi buddy,” you whispered, looking back to see the girls gathered at the door, completely unaware that their dad was waiting for them downstairs. “Merry Christmas,” you said softly, his scrunched face not processing what you were saying, but happy to see you, nonetheless.

You picked him up from the crib and herded the girls to the stairs, letting them lead the way down while you carried the baby. Right behind them, you watched the realization dawn on their faces as soon as they caught sight of Spencer, “Daddy!” Nell shouted, leading her little sister as they ran to him.

Laughing lightly, you let a squirming Finn down, running to Spencer in the same way the girls just had. From a distance, you watched as all three of your kids entirely bypassed the gifts under the tree and on the mantle and went straight to what was more important—their father was home for Christmas.

Spencer crouched down to get Finn, and at the same time, Livvy jumped in excitement, leaving Spencer falling backward and sitting on the ground while the kids formed a less-than-graceful dog pile on the floor. You took that as your cue to join in on the festivities, kneeling on the floor next to the familial pile, uncontrollable giggles emanated from everyone involved.

You wrangled the two littles in your arms, giving each of them dozens of kisses and receiving more laughter in return as Eleanor settled down. Your eldest took her moment of alone time and laid her head on Spencer’s chest, the grin on her face overtook the rest of her face, “Best Christmas ever,” she whispered before rolling off of him, Spencer instinctively lifting his hand so she doesn’t hit her head on the leg of the coffee table.

Nellie sat up giving you a toothy grin, sticking her tongue through where she was missing a front tooth. Everyone took notice of Olivia pointing at the tree, her mouth shaped like an “o” in awe, “Can we open that one?” She asked, pointing to the largest present in the stack—which, of course, had her name on it.

“Stockings first,” Spencer said, leading to a pout from your middle child, but it was quickly wiped away when he kissed the crown of her head. Your husband got up first, taking Finn from where he was tucked into your side, and set him on his hip, “Okay, who wants their stocking?”

Everyone’s hand went up—including yours.

[vickymura]

PAIRING ~ bf!nrk x gf!reader

SUMMARY ~ riding riki's abs cuz he's too damn hot doing crunches.

GENRE ~ smut, pwop(?).

WORD COUNT ~ 1.302k

ᯓ★ love the banner for this ngl. not my best work:( but it was requested so here

visiting your boyfriend's apartment to be met with the sight of him shirtless, doing crunches in his room was definitely a welcome you'd want to see more often.

you'd blame ovulation, but something about seeing the beads of sweat dripping down the pattern of his abs made you feel a certain tingle in a place sinfully up between your legs.

with a cool facade, you flashed a soft smile, settling your bag down in its usual place and unwrapping the winter layers you had on. “working hard, huh, riki?” you teased, but it was mostly just a mere attempt of hiding and distracting yourself from your fluster and desires.

"mm." he responded with the short, low hum that you couldn't decipher as a yes or a no. his breath came out in rhythmic puffs, hands clasping each other as he pushed himself up and down. he wasn't exactly talkative when he was 'in the zone', but the hint of a smirk curled on his lips as he looked up at you. "you're just on time. i was getting lonely." his little complaint earned a mostly playful scoff from you. “geez, i was gone for one hour because somebody refuses to be a grown up and get their own groceries.” 

having had familiarity with his bedroom, you made your way to sit on the edge of the bed beside where he was on the floor without having to look up.

he groaned as he sat up, rolling his head from side to side to ease the strain in his neck, flexing his abdominal muscles by accident as he did. "mm. i hate grocery shopping." he retorted back quickly, his eyes settling on you. his gaze was intense, filled with a bit of annoyance and something else, something that you knew from experience would lead to your clothes being tossed to the floor in a messy pile.

with his new position, came the delicious little sight of his sweaty strands of overgrown bangs sticking to his forehead, his glistening flexed muscles and the naturally prominent tent in his gray sweats.

you cleared your throat, ‘discreetly’ looking back up at his eyes.

“you’re just too childish.” you countered, ending your sentence by hypocritically sticking out your tongue in a childish manner.

he rolled his eyes at that, the smirk on his lips growing a bit wider as he rose to his feet, taking slow and deliberate strides towards you. he towered over you, forcing you to look up in his eyes as he stepped between your legs, pinning you against the edge of the bed with his arms on either side. "mm, really." he chuckled at that, his eyebrows raising. "keep sticking your tongue out like that and i'll find a better use for it."

oh, he knew what he was doing. you swallowed thickly at the implications of his words, but scoffed sassily. but god, his abs were right there, in front of your face, glistening in a way that made you wish it was something other than his sweat.

“whatever. you’re sweaty and stinky, go take a shower.” it was a lame excuse, but at that point you’d try every bit you could to escape the situation.

riki chuckled again, amused at your attempt to keep him from sensing how his very presence was already making you want to throw your clothes off. he leaned in close, so that his nose was practically grazing yours. "that doesn't sound like the nicest thing you could say to your boyfriend who's been working so hard in the hot summer heat, now does it?" he teased back, a smirk on his lips and an obvious mischief in his eyes.

“and what do you think is the nicest thing i should say to my oh-so hardworking boyfriend?” you immediately snapped back, an edge of annoyance forming in your tone, thanks to his teasing. 

he was absolutely infuriating, and all while looking so damn sexy that it drove you crazy in all the best ways.

he chuckled again, enjoying the smartassery you continued to try and push past his guard. riki pressed a light kiss to your forehead before giving you a response. "something... less rude." he stated simply, his hands gripping the edge of the bed now, caging you in. "like... i don't know, like…” he leaned in close to your ear, his body gently pressing itself against yours. "i think it should've been more along the lines of 'oh my handsome boyfriend, you're working so hard. let me help you relax~'"

you let out a scoff-like chuckle. he was really pushing it out of cockiness of having the upper hand and your admiring gaze here, wasn’t he? “self-indulgent much?” "damn right." he shamelessly said, his voice dropping an octave, eyes locking onto yours. "very." the smirk on his face curled into a half-smirk, his hot breath tickling your skin. his hips pushed against yours, his hands still on either side. "i want to be a little selfish right now."

you hummed, spreading your legs wider to incorporate his larger frame. with the decision to indulge in his little game, you questioned, “selfish how, hm?”

riki's smirk only widened as he settled between your legs, a hand gently taking your chin and forcing your gaze to remain locked on his. "in a lot of ways." he responded, his other hand gently gripping your thigh. "one of them being a nice reward for working so damn hard."

“i have a different proposition.” you suddenly interrupted, your tone one he couldn’t recognize. without giving him time to reply, you continued, “i have a very selfish desire, myself.”

his smirk widened again, his head inching closer like a lion nearing his prey. his eyes had a fire burning behind them, a sort of intense desire that you knew only led somewhere hot and messy. "oh yeah?" he responded, that hand that was gripping your thigh running up a bit. "and what's this 'very selfish' desire of yours?"

one thing led to another, and the next thing he knew- you were sitting on riki's muscular abdomen, hands on his chest as you coated his abs with your slick.

his hands moved to grip your hip instead, digging his nails in as guided your movements against his flexed muscles. he wore a lazy smirk on his lips, bringing one of his hands to make circular motions on your clit.

“fuck..” you cried out in pleasure, frantically riding on his abs like your life depended on it.

“you feel good baby? don’t even need my cock to get off anymore.. greedy baby.” he basically purred into your ear, continuing to rub your clit with his calloused thumb.

the pretty whimpers and gasps escaping your lips were like music to his ear, you were clearly too delirious to take offense to his teases, let alone come up with a reply. your pussy pulsated on his abs as a clear sign of approaching your orgasm, and it only encouraged him to further guide your hips and rub you.

“riki..” you mewled in utter glee, your hips jerking forth involuntarily ever so often.

“yes, baby? you close? gonna cum on my abs?” he teased, his voice ringing low and deep in your senses.

you gripped onto his chest just a little harder, the knot in your stomach breaking apart with a lewd moan. you stilled your hips as he rubbed your clit through your orgasm, your ejaculation now coating his proud muscles.

he groaned at the wet warmth of it, now gripping onto your hips in a way that made his own needs evident. “that was fucking hot..” he commented, making you return back to earth from your high and hide your face in the crook of his neck out of post-nut embarrassment. 

“shut up..” reblog and comment or i'll appear in ur room at 3 am with a knife :3 💗

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request headcanons for Dick, and Jason being told by their shy gn crush that he doesn't need to do it as he's under the mistletoe with them please?

Dick

Jokes on you if you think this man is going to walk away from this golden opportunity that he had been waiting -and planning for- the entire night.

So needless to say this man was both restless and excited that he finally got you under the mistletoe with him, so much so that it was blatantly obvious for all to see that you were the one he wanted under that mistletoe with him, no one else could elicit such a strong reaction out of him like you could.

When you tell him meekly that he didn’t have to do this only made him all the more eager to prove that this was what he wanted to do, for there was no other better time then this for Dick to easily confess or show his innermost love for you.

Dick smiles sympathetically at you as he raises your head by your chin until you were looking at each other in the eyes, his smile becomes more genuine when you did as he leant towards you with the intention of speaking to you without others listening in.

‘Now where did that come from?’ He’d ask softly.

‘I just don’t want you to feel forced into doing anything you didn’t want.’ You reply. ‘I know it’s a tradition but no one should be forced to participate if they don’t want to.’ You then added on.

Dick made a face of thought before pushing his forehead to press against your own as he said. ‘Well what if I did want to do this? What if I sad that I’ve been waiting to do something like this the entire night that I had it planned specifically for us?’

You started into his eyes with confusion and Dick would be lying if he said it wasn’t adorable because it was. ‘Why?’ You ask him and it felt like the funniest thing he was ever told but he quickly composed himself as you would probably take it the wrong way if he did.

instead he just caresses your cheeks when his hands held your face as though it was precious and priceless treasure that he could ever hold within his hands. ‘Maybe because I like you silly and have been thinking about kissing you for a while and thought ‘hey why not kiss under the mistletoe?’ Dick tells you as he chuckles lightly at your wide eyed expression as though silently asking him if he was serious.

And sweetheart this man was more than serious, way more.

‘So cutie, would you mind if I kissed you under the mistletoe?’ He whispered to you, wanting you to have the choice to make your own decision like you gave him the chance to walk away from this, he didn’t want you to do anything you didn’t feel fully comfortable for.

You placed your hands atop of his own and smiled sweetly at him. ‘I wouldn’t mind it at all, as long as it’s you I wouldn’t want anything else.’ You admitted as dick closed the gap between you two as you shared a sweet kiss beneath the mistletoe, bringing forth a beginning of your new relationship with the most beautiful and wonderful man you have ever met.

Jason

Jason wasn’t the type to be caught under the mistletoe whatsoever ever as he tended to masterfully avoid it however he could, kissing under it was not his thing, but thanks to the unspoken feelings he had towards you and suddenly this man is etching towards the doorway with the mistletoe in hopes that he could coincidentally get lucky with having you there.

So when his wish does come true and you’re both under the mistletoe, it’s anything but like the silly movies and cheesy books that Jason read in his free time, that and because they were on clearance sale in the local bookstore to give way for more room for more books in the future.

Jason didn’t want to put you in a position where you would be made to feel uncomfortable or had no choice in the matter, and yet hearing you tell him that he didn’t have to kiss you under the mistletoe as you looked anywhere but him, made his heart hurt as a result but he knew that if he wanted to advance your relationship then sometimes he’ll have to be the one to take the bold step forward.

However if it was for you? Then Jason will gladly be the one to always take that brave step forward to show you that not everything was scary and that some times were worth the risk.

‘Why would you think that I don’t want to do this chipmunk?’ He’d ask you.

‘You don’t like these types of things, force proximity and the social pressures of making two people kiss for the sake of upholding a tradition,’ you shrugged as you burrowed your hands into your hoodie, ‘you just don’t like those types of things as it forces affection and you’d do anything to get out of Dick’s apparent and away from this little get together before he does something…’

‘Stupid? Ridiculous?’ Jason listed off on his fingers.

‘Dick like is more what I was looking for.’ You chuckled as Jason locked eyes with you and suddenly the you were seen, you could see the love within his eyes and suddenly the room felt warmer then usual when Jason reached for your hands within your hoodie to hold them in his own.

‘Well I can tell you that I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but with you, and since your stood here under the mistletoe I am too, where you go I go sweetheart. You can’t get rid of me that easily as I’ll always want to be wherever you are regardless of my feelings towards it or not because all that matters to me is that I have you.’ Jason tells you, finally getting the words that he wanted to get off of his chest at long, long last.

‘Now would you allow me to kiss you under this cheap piece of plastic mistletoe chipmunk.’ Jason then says in a lighthearted tone, smiling in that charming way that always had you feeling butterflies within your stomach. ‘You didn’t need to ask Jason but yes I would love to.’ You replied.

The kiss you both shared under the ‘cheap piece of plastic’ was sweet, tender and addicting all the same as you both smiled against the others lips, happy to know that there would be new journeys ahead of you both that you can walk through together.

[xoxochb]

hey will you please write some cute fluffy aftercare with percy ?

yes nonnie anything for u my love

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

you wish it was humanly possible to dissolve into the sheets and sleep there forever. your eyes flutter gently closed, allowing yourself to take the moment in from touch alone. this was, until the silence broke.

“ya doin’ alright, sweet girl?”

you feel a rush of heat in your aching core at the nickname. you know he’s well aware of this. “gods— don’t talk…”

you turn onto your side, taking the sheets along with you to cover your bare skin from the coldness of the cabin, nuzzling your face into percy’s shoulder.

“I hate you,” you murmur. but he only laughs.

and shrugs, pushing your face off his shoulder, you whine and drop your head onto the pillow. “sure. but two minutes ago—”

“I’d pay you all the money in the world not to finish that sentence.”

percy smirks, nonetheless, makes a zipper motion over his mouth. you roll your eyes and sit up, shaking your head lightly to hopefully put your hair back into its place.

“where’re ya goin’, sweet girl?” he outstretches his hand and grabs your arm, pulling you to lay back down on his chest, kissing your forehead.

“shower. care to join?”

“is the sky blue? is grass green?”

you grimace. “what did I tell you about saying corny shit like that?”

percy pouts and releases you from his hold. you sit up again and scan the room for his discarded shirt before standing up from the bed. percy watches your every move attentively.

you ignore this though, and grab his shirt, sliding it over your head. you enter the bathroom and turn the shower knob to the left, heading towards the mirror to examine the plethora of marks left over your skin.

“perseus,” you call out. “I loathe you.”

you hear a laugh and the rustling of sheets. you roll your eyes and discard of his shirt for a second time this night, stepping into the shower. soon after, following you, percy arrives.

“hey, sweet girl, long time no see, huh?”

“you’re so fuckin’ weird.”

“yet you still let me—”

you cover his mouth with your hand and give him a warning look. “you’re proving my point.” he fake bites your hand. you pull it away. “don’t expect a second round if you act like that.”

“that was a possibility? my mouth is permanently zipped shut.”

“offer’s off the table already!”

[watermelonlovershigh]

❄ Cold ❄ /concept/

AN: i came up with this idea while shivering in my bed. i just wish i actually had a Harry to cuddle with. :( had it in my drafts for about 2 months and decided i'd post it today. anyways, its short but sweet and i hope you enjoy.

This story contains: pure fluff

{ boyfriendrry - soft!harry - any harry era of your choice }

word count- 344

Harry wakes up cold and you cuddle him back to warmth.

"Mhm, baby. S' cold." Harry murmurs in a drowsy tone. He attempts to snuggle closer to you, despite his half-awake state. Although it is the middle of autumn, a cold front has swept through the region, resulting in significantly lower temperatures overnight. While your home is equipped with heating, you prefer to avoid using it during the night, as it tends to make the bedroom excessively warm. Consequently, you depend on blankets and each other's body heat to stay warm during the cold fall and winter nights.

While trying to find a warmer spot in the bed, Harry accidentally elbows your right boob, causing you to wake up and hiss aloud, "Ouch! Stop moving so much." You didn't catch his earlier statement about feeling cold, which would've explained his excessive movement.

"But m'cold." Harry repeats again, this time slightly louder and more clear, yet with a whiny tone. He is your big, cuddly baby after all.

Realization settles on your lethargic mind, leading to a frown as you ponder how to aid your shivering boyfriend. "Oh, I'm sorry baby. Here, face me and I'll face you and we'll hold each other. We'll keep warm that way."

Following your instructions, he proceeds accordingly, and you mirror his actions. You encircle his shoulders with your arms and intertwine your legs together, while Harry secures his arms around your back. Your faces are in close proximity, as well as all your other body parts. You pull the blankets up to your shoulder blades, allowing your body heat to envelop Harry and keep him nice and warm.

Right before he drifts off to sleep again, Harry places soft kisses on your forehead, nose, and mouth, causing a content smile to spread across your face. You then both succumb to sleep once more, cocooned in each other's embrace, warm breaths caressing each other's skin as your bodies relax and your lips part ever so slightly. There is nothing more comforting than the act of cuddling with your boyfriend on a cold night. Your love for your Harry is undeniable.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

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taglist: @swiftmendeshoran // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @hsonlyangelxo // @lunabai // @ppleasingg // @harryscherrysugar // @devilsqueen722 // @mema10 // @harryswifee // @jewelaponte // @fruity-harry

My Masterlist Masterpost

[morganaawriterr]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ You don’t have to say it back;

Pairing; fem!reader, long-distance boyfriend!Ni-ki Synopsis; For a fleeting moment, it’s just you, Ni-ki, and the beach as he confesses his love for you before leaving for Korea. Genre; A bit fluffy and angsty - (this is very short) Warning; None, just Ni-ki being a cutie pie!

A/N: This has been sitting in my Notion app for ages (because I don't like it much)!!! Also, I am travelling so I won't be online much, but I won't leave you guys starving!! Here it is, I hope you guys enjoy it, likes and reblogs are always appreciated, thank you!

You love the beach; from the sound of the free waves crashing on the warm sand, to the smell of the salty water that reminds you of your childhood, and the thin, translucent clouds transmitting a calm peace of mind.

“This is beautiful…” you say, staring at the sun setting on the horizon. Shades of blue, grey, and yellow paint the sky like the work of the most skilled artist.

Niki smiles, admiring you. Your eyes glow in the sunlight, reflecting the landscape in your gaze. He can still smell your sweet perfume, and all of that drives him crazy.

“You are beautiful,” he flirts, nibbling his lower lip softly, loving the way you become shy at his compliments.

You turn your face towards him, and when your eyes meet his, it feels like the world has stopped. There is no plane waiting for him, no idol life, no unsupportive family, no beach or sun—just you and him.

“I hate this… I hate you…” you say, looking deeply into his pure hazel eyes. Niki reaches out for your hand and intertwines your thin fingers with his slender ones. You are cold, and he is warm. It’s funny how he is always your source of warmth.

“You don’t,” he grins. There’s something in his smile that makes you start tearing up. Maybe it’s the fact that you feel how genuine he is, or maybe it’s his adorable dimples, or his heart-shaped lips, so pink and inviting.

You break eye contact and pull your hand away from his. Your eyes are now focused on the sun, almost gone. It makes you chuckle. Riki is just like the sun—always slipping through your fingers, abandoning you, and leaving you in hopes that he will return once more.

But the nights are more interminable than ever when he’s gone. The moon is your only company on those lonely nights without him.

“I love you,” Niki confesses out of the blue, his heart beating out of his chest from those three significant words. He knows you are terrified of them, but he wants to be genuine with you.

All the air in your lungs seems to fade away like smoke, and you’re suddenly crying. Your heart shatters into little pieces. It hurts so greatly, knowing he can’t be wholly yours.

“Riki…” you call for him, trying to look him in the eyes, but he dodges your gaze.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Niki says softly, a modest smile on his lips. That’s the moment you realize how honest he is being. He loves you. He wants you. He truly does.

You laugh between tears and force yourself into his strong arms, craving his body heat. He closes his eyes and envelops his arms around you, hugging your frame and savoring your gentle scent.

“I love you too…” you confess, face buried in his neck, your cheeks burning in embarrassment.

At that moment, you overhear it. “Niki, it’s time to go,” his manager says, an anxious look on his face. He also wishes it was easier, but there’s nothing he can do.

“I’m going!” Riki replies in a more cheerful voice, utterly drunk in love. You whine when you feel his arms leave you, the warmth disappearing rapidly. You pout, making him giggle.

Riki gets to his feet, wishing time would slow down. You get up too and stand there cutely, staring up at him, waiting for a goodbye kiss. Niki does just what you wanted. His arms wrap around you as your cold lips mold against his. You pull away first, feeling his manager’s gaze burning holes into your head.

Niki smiles at you once again and then smooches your forehead lovingly. With teary eyes, you smile back, hating that this is your reality. When you see Riki for the last time, the sun is already gone. So, you figure it’s time to let go. You wave at him as he climbs inside the van with its thick, opaque windows. His voice, words, smile, and perfume are still fresh in your mind.

As the car drives away, you hug yourself, the raw wind making you shiver. A single tear escapes your eye, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand, a proud smile on your lips despite the sharp pain of goodbye.

From inside the van, as Niki watches you grow smaller and smaller until you disappear, he asks the moon to take care of you.

Taglist: @grandlightcandy @seokseokjinkim @strxwbloody @enhasunghoonishot @contyynishimura @heewanrik @ranwonbin @leanderexists @lovelyyf @youngheejay @crimson-reaper576 @rikifever @mrsjjongstby @laurradoesloveu @babyboomysweetie @mintchocos-things If you wanna be added or removed from the taglist just comment below!

[ Check out my MASTERLIST; ]

[pureomi]

˚୨୧⋆｡🍓˚ all you want - itoshi rin.

in which: rin finds out what he is most terrified of.

themes - sfw. not proofread. gender neutral (i believe, lemme know if im wrong). rin is a loser in love so yay. | wc 0.6k

itoshi rin is an intimidating man. his tall silhouette adds to his unapproachable persona, which he embodies with a glued sore expression, almost always looking as if ready for slaughter. (he is)

rin himself has been aware of this fact; it is hard not to be after years of noticing the small mannerisms of nervousness people only tend to carry around him. he feels bad about it sometimes, but, oh well.

with such a demeanor, rin has the confidence to rarely ever think of what might spook him. truthfully, he cannot be blamed either. this man watches horror movies as a hobby, claiming "it's the only media that interests him". forget fictional horror, he isn't even bothered by realistic sights of blood, be it his own or somebody else's; a very small part of the reason why he didn't think twice before swinging at shidou during practice today.

itoshi rin terrifies everyone and is never terrified of anyone.

so why, why is he shaking in his boots right now at the sight of your stern expression?

"rin."

he held his breath, mentally preparing himself to confront the storm ahead.

"you forgot to buy strawberries."

crap. the ingredient had completely slipped his mind.

"sorry," he sighed, in transparent defeat. "i remembered your text after arriving."

"it's okay," you went back to shuffling through drawers like your usual self. except, it wasn't usual to rin. your cheeky smile he adored so much became replaced with a pout today.

no no no—please don't be sad. not over strawberries.

"i'll go back and get them right now," he shuffled in his trouser pockets for his car keys, determined to get you those red little troublemakers.

your hand clutched a flap of his jacket before he got moving. "rin, it's okay. really."

"i'll be back shortly," he glared daggers into your hand restricting him—conflicted if he is in a position to remove any willing touch you provided him at the moment.

he hoped you would just let go—which you did. but now, it wasn't just a hand clinging to him. it was your entire being.

"you don't have to," you hugged him, murmuring sentences with the same look from before.

itoshi rin sighed, his second time today, but this was out of pure endearment. "then stop looking so upset, dumbass."

though his words carried a harsh stream, his tender hands cupping your jaw contradicted all the possible roughness.

"i'm not upset," you claimed. "you're pouting," he swiped a thumb across your slightly fluffed up lips to prove a point you seemed to be missing. "well, i just wanted to make those cupcakes."

the stoic man's heart clutched again at your painfully adorable wish. slowly, he leaned to press his forehead against yours. "so, let me get them."

at his adamancy, you chuckled, a sound that melted away the tension in the room. "baby, you really don't have to go back for strawberries. i can survive a night without them."

"i know you can," he left a quick kiss on your lips. "but, i want you to have everything you want. especially the little things."

perhaps you grew accustomed to his physical affection, but his verbal love still held you captive after all this time. long gone were the sweetly sour fruits from your mind, all it consisted of was itoshi rin.

"what if i want something not so little?" you tip-toed to reach your boyfriend towering over you.

immediately, getting your cue, he grabbed on to your figure, bringing his lips to align with yours passionately.

"can give you that too."

10:30 am.

the next morning, as sunshine spilled through the kitchen windows, you found a crimson surprise awaiting you at the counter. three full containers of strawberries had been neatly arranged in a column and residing beside them were a pair of oven mitts. the last thing he left for you to spot was a note attached to the thermal gloves.

"for your cupcakes. don't burn yourself." — rin itoshi.

[star2fishmeg]

ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ

Pairing | Luke Hughes x afab!reader Summary | (comfort angst, fluff) | all it took was a terrible headache for y/n to break and really tell Luke what was wrong, and he provides the best remedy Authors Note | please accept this blurb based on a dream caused by a criminal headache I had while I get through celly blurbs and my inbox🥺

The headache that’d haunted her all day only pounded worse, pain relief only doing so much to ease the aching. Luke felt useless, there was only so much he could do and taking the pain away was not one of them. All he could do was gently caress her thigh hooked over his legs and hold her to his chest, arm wound around her waist and providing a kiss on her forehead every now and then. 

Her fingers traced feathery patterns over his skin, changing between his chest and following the ridges of his abs down to his v-line, feeling the heat that radiated off his body and embracing hers. They lay in silence, listening to breathing fall into sync and the video quietly playing from Luke’s phone and her brain worked overtime, the cogs turning and falling into the deepest pits of the human conscience, comments she’d read and heard emerging from her memory. The gossip pages, the media, other girlfriends and wives and maybe they were right. Maybe she wasn’t right for him; not mature enough, not established enough, not flexible enough and not pretty enough. 

Wetness seeped onto his bare skin, and he closed his phone, placing it onto the sheets before cupping her cheek, “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothin’, head just hurts.” She slid her hand over his stomach, cuddling into him but his fingers took her jaw, tilting her head up to face him. Worry spread across his face, eyes widening softly, eyebrows pulling together slightly.

“Y/n…” he said concerned, “talk to me, what’s it you always tell me? We’re a team?”

She paused and sighed, “Jus’...sometimes the people are right, I don’t deserve you. You’re this big-time, hotshot hockey player and I have nothing to my name, jus’ some chick.”

His grip around her tightened and he let her face go, slowly pulling her on top of his body completely, with consideration to the pounding in her head. Luke never liked the media and knew it came with his career, but when it impacted the people he loved the most, then he had a personal problem with it. His jaw tensed when more tears spilt onto his chest silently.

“Oh, angel,” Luke’s hand settled on the back of her head tenderly, brushing loose strands of hair away from her face while his arm secured around her middle, “who said that? You know that’s not true-” “-but it just is, Lu. Not a thriving model, not a career woman, just y/n who still relies on her parents half the time. Getting a part-time job has been tragic and while you’re working your ass off out there, I’m just sitting around.” She sobbed, Luke’s stomach twisting and he kissed her head. 

He’d never been confident in sharing how he felt, never being able to find the right words but with so much adrenaline and heartache running through his system, they seemed to fall off his tongue with a rawness to them. 

“But you’re not just ‘some chick’. That’s why I love you. You’re y/n. You’re a student who’s graduating soon, in a field she enjoys and you’re literally only twenty. Just because you aren’t living a life someone else is, doesn’t make you any less of a person. I don’t care that you’re not a public figure or whatever. Actually, I like that you aren’t and wish we went to college together because that would’ve been cool, so many parties to make out at. My point is that you bring normality, and I don’t care if you have a job or not, I’m always gonna support you in everything because I love you.” 

Y/n’s lip quivered, heart swelling as the sweet confession soaked into her ears. Typical Luke, even when he didn’t realise it, he always knew what to say. She pushed herself up onto her forearms, palms flat on his chest and his hands followed the curve of her spine up to her shoulder blades and down to her ass, soothingly with a small, comforting smile. 

He cupped her cheek, using his thumb to wipe one of her eyes before she melted into his palm, “Thank you, I love you so much.”

She leant in, pressing a long and slow kiss to his lips, moaning when he groped her ass and giggling. He didn’t mind taking that extra breath if it meant he could listen to her giggle and light up again. Luke slid his hand to the back of her neck, goosebumps running along her skin, and he pulled her into another adoring kiss. A kiss worth a thousand more words, with warmth, a deep kiss with his mouth opening to invite her tongue to meet his and lick into her mouth. She was just y/n and Luke wouldn’t have had it any other way.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

P.S. I Love You.

Summary: You suddenly receive letters that re open the wounds of grief. But they turn out for the better.

Warnings: ANGST, FLUFF, FLASHBACK

The call you hadn’t expected to receive came through your cell phone one hot, summer day in Charlotte. It changed the trajectory of your life from then on. A horrifying scream pierced the air, causing your mother to drop her coffee mug while sitting out in the yard, the ceramic glass shattering against cobblestone. When she’d found you in the kitchen, you were in the fetal position, body trembling as you wailed. She rushed to your aid, down on her knees with frantic eyes and a continuous chant of ‘what happened’ spilling from her lips.

“TERRY! HE’S GONE!”

The words didn’t seem real. When the tears came, hot and endless, you ached from the pain entering your world without the decency to knock first. Your mother’s words couldn’t be heard over your despair.

You cried as if your brain was being shredded from the inside. Emotional pain flowed out of your every pore. From your mouth came a cry so raw that even the eyes of your mother’s were suddenly wet with tears. You grabbed onto your mother, your violent shaking almost causing her to to fall flat and from your eyes came a thicker flow of tears the more you begin to understand.

Not Terry. It didn’t make sense for him to die. He was strong, the pinnacle of a man who in your eyes was unstoppable. No. This was a nightmare. You had to wake up from the nightmare. On that kitchen floor you questioned God. Your mother’s cries didn’t help calm you down. The whole world had vanished for you, now there was only pain enough to break you, pain enough to change you beyond recognition.

“No, no, no, no—”

Mike and Terry were killed in Shelby Springs, Louisiana. You refused to hear the details. Terry had a thing for saving his cousin from whatever he’d get himself involved in. You developed resentment against Mike and how he called on Terry to come to the rescue because he knew that he wouldn’t say no. Something in your gut told you that this time, he really shouldn’t leave.

Dried tears made your face feel tight and your eyes were blurry. Your chest burned and a nauseating sensation settled into your belly. You had your head in your mother’s lap on the sofa as the sun set. Across from you were your aunties and cousins, all silent and attempting to comfort you with soothing rubs and kisses to your forehead.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N…”

“Everything will be okay…”

“I can’t believe this…”

“I wish this never happened to you.”

You’d forgotten what it felt like to speak.

Going back to your shared apartment would only reopen the fresh wounds.

His pictures.

His smell.

His clothes.

His side of the bed.

What’s worse is his parents wanted you to join them in traveling to Shelby Springs to bring his body back home. You were his fiancé. As terrified as you were, you knew it was the right thing to do. Your mother joined you on the journey and her support gave you the strength to walk into that morgue and see him. It was cold and eerie. The silence unnerving. As you enter with his parents, your eyes fall to a stainless steel table with a body covered in a sheet.

Your knees buckle and you stop suddenly, too weak and afraid to carry on. Everything was happening so fast. You’d gotten the call about Terry two days ago, and now you were here barely standing in a room for corpses. Your mother had her arms wrapped around you as you take slow steps towards the table. Heart hammering in your chest, you watch as the sheet lowered to reveal his face.

You’d lost the ability to stand.

He’d suffered. Haunting images of his battered face and chest littered with bullet holes frightened and angered you. Nothing can prepare you for something like this. He didn’t look like himself. Death changed him in ways you weren’t prepared to see.

Pale. Bruised. Lifeless. Still.

It was something you couldn’t even force yourself to see even during his funeral. And neither could his parents. After what felt like hours, you all were on your way back home with Terry, making arrangements for him to be cremated. After all, it was Terry’s wish. Intrusive thoughts flooded your mind the days leading to his memorial service.

Clearly, he suffered, but what was his last words? What was the last thing on his mind? Did he think of you? What had he eaten that morning?

The morning of his memorial service a few days later, you sat within your bedroom, burying your nose in his clothes and sniffing his cologne. You wanted his belongings, but it was evidence back in Shelby Springs. They were building a case on the corupt police there and if found guilty, a multi–million dollar paycheck would be given. For Mike and Terry. The teardrop diamond engagement ring on your finger twinkled in the sun as you sat surrounded by family and friends.

Behind your black shades, your puffy eyes stared at a photo of Michael and Terry. All smiles and laughter. Terry’s deep voice and adorable smile flooded your mind and it shook you to the core. His big arms circling your waist made you wrap your arms around yourself to mimick that feeling. The smell of his beard whenever you’d nuzzle your face against his neck.

His urn sat on a podium and when you’d gotten up to deliver a speech, you touched it. You’d pressed your lips against it. Taking a deep breath, you opened a folded piece of notebook paper to read from, but soon, you found that you couldn’t speak without your voice quivering. The distant sound of sniffles and encouragement was static noise.

Fuck this.

Your fingers began ripping the paper into shreds. Fuck a proper speech. Your person was stripped of life at the tender age of thirty two. He was a good man.

You part your lips to speak, “Terry Richmond is the love of my life…and I don’t know how I’m gonna live without him. This all feels like I’m being punished. How could god take someone like him away from me?”

You spoke those words truthfully. Yes, you were questioning God. Why him? Why Terry? Why not the ones who did this to him? Why not ANYONE who’s ever wronged him? Why did his cousin call him to help? Why did Terry go instead of staying with you?

Fuck the many stages of grief. You were filled with rage and sadness so powerful. There was no way you’d come to accept this. While others moved on, you would have a constant reminder that your soulmate was stripped from your life. A part of you wanted to join him. Wherever he was.

That’s how you felt for a long while, but as time progressed, because that’s what happens with life, Terry’s absence didn’t hurt as much. Of course, during special occasions it would trigger the grief, but you’d taken the time to speak to a therapist and talk about how his death affected you. That was a year ago.

Everything is recycled, or so that is what you see with your eyes. The atoms of one thing become those of another. The energy from one place becomes energy in another. So while you have no idea where he is, or what God asked him to become next, you’re looking forward to being with him again and you feel his love so strongly in the ether. So, call it reincarnation or recycling, you’re okay with whatever. Terry’s still somewhere, and that's what matters to you.

——

“Morning!”

You walked with a pep in your step towards your mailbox after your Pilates class. Something you’d always wanted to do but never had the courage to before. It’s expensive, but you loved it. Opening the mailbox, you don’t have much but credit card bills and junk mail. As you grab your mail, you notice a thick, distressed, stationary envelope fall to the floor within the lobby of your apartment building.

Your eyes follow the envelope facing downward. You crouch down to pick it up, the pain in your legs from Pilates causing you to groan. Once you were up, you lock your mailbox and head towards your elevators. On the ride up, you think about what you’d like to prepare for dinner. Maybe steak would be nice since you hadn’t eaten it in a while.

The doors slide open and you were out of the elevator and approaching your door. As you pushed it open, you were welcomed by your orange and white cat. The new decor courtesy of your cousin who is an interior designer gave an impression of something straight out of a catalog.

A promotion.

New Apartment.

New Car.

You were starting over. It felt good to do that. You still lived in Charlotte, but letting go of the things that triggered your grief was the best way for you to move forward.

You’d kicked off your running shoes and sat the mail down on the living room table to go through. As you flipped through, the envelope caught your eye. Fancy penmanship covered the front and as your eyes scanned, your body became rigid. Your heart sank to your stomach.

From: Terry

To: My Beautiful Fiance’

You blink twice to see if this was real and what you were actually reading.

How is this possible?

As you sat on your sofa, your eyes began to flood with tears. Was someone pulling a sick joke or did Terry actually write you a letter? So many questions and a lot of confusion. You could feel your tears trickling down your cheeks and over your lips the more you stared at the envelope.

So much for getting better. The fear you felt at that moment alone in your apartment is what stopped you from opening the letter. You place it down on the coffee table and wrap your arms around you. Your cat nudged you against your leg and as you look down, her yellow eyes stared back with a softness that helped to calm you.

Terry had gifted you this cat for your birthday a year ago.

Shortly before he’d left for Shelby Springs.

She nudged you again and you felt it was her way of telling you to open the envelope. With one shaky hand, you grab the envelope from the coffee table and use your almond-shaped finger nail to open it. Inside is a folded piece of paper. You retrieve it and open it slowly, heart racing. Black ink and cursive.

Hey, baby.

Surprise. I know this probably feels a little bit morbid... But I just hate the idea that I'm not gonna be there to see you freak out over turning 30. I mean, it kills me not to be there. Heh-heh. That's funny. Okay. No, it's not. You're gonna be so impressed. I have a plan, baby. Can you believe it? I've written you letters. Letters that will be coming to you all sorts of ways. I waited till your birthday. I figured you weren't stepping out of the house for a while. Letter number one will be arriving tomorrow. Now, you gotta do what I say, okay? Don't try to figure out how the letters are coming. It's too brilliant and it'll ruin my plan. Just go along with me on this. Because the thing is, I just can't say goodbye yet. So for starters. I want you to get dolled up, and just go out and celebrate tonight. Go out with your girls. I hereby free you from a party with your family, especially your mom. I’m Sorry, I couldn’t be there, baby. I’m a need you to get a little crazy. So have a slice of cake, put on my favorite dress and get out of the apartment. Y/N, make a plan. For me, okay? And know that wherever I am, I'm missing you. Happy birthday.

P.S

I love you.

You wept silently, your tears blotching the paper. You shut your eyes tight and allow yourself to cry with a bounce of your shoulders and an aching feeling of sorrow. As you read the letter, you could hear his deep vibrato. You pictured him sitting somewhere on a hammock writing to you. Surrounded by the wild and reminded of how it was his peace. 

Bringing the paper to your nose, you smell the parchment and try your best to catch his scent. It only smelled of paper with its lignin aroma. Sniffling, you wipe away snot and tears before placing the paper on the coffee table, carefully folding it. Your birthday was indeed tomorrow and you had only planned to have dinner with your mom at her place. Just the two of you.

Your friends had suggested going out for drinks, but the thought of partying and being surrounded by so many people overstimulated you in the worst way. You couldn’t bring yourself to go out and enjoy life and what it has to offer when your forever person is six feet under. Trying your best to shake those thoughts from your mind, you meditate. Calming your breath and releasing the tension from your muscles. This was something you’d never stop doing.

Opening your eyes, you blink to adjust to the blurry view. Too emotional, you finally stand from the sofa because you were unable to read the letter again. After taking a long shower, you start on dinner with a vinyl record playing. While flipping your steak, the sensation of strong hands trapping your waist caused a shiver to slither down your spine. You drop the spatula and touch where you’d felt it, body seizing up in fear. Sharp breaths escaped your mouth.

Your mind was most definitely playing tricks on you. Terry loved to creep up behind you while you were cooking to touch on you and kiss you neck. He’d whisper in your ear because he knew that his voice drove you crazy no matter ther octave. That ghostly sensation triggered nostalgic memories of what it felt to be wrapped up within the embrace of Terry Richmond.

“SHIT—”

You rush to the stove to check on your steak. The hot grease popped your arm painfully, causing you to groan. You finish your steak and plate it with your broccolini and mashed potatoes. Some wine sounded great. You open your drink cabinet and soon realize how high up the wine is. On your tip toes, you reach up, struggling to grab a bottle of red wine. Fingertips touching the cork, you strain, one knee on the counter now.

“Nah…whatchu doing, baby?”

Terry plucked the bottle from the top shelf with ease because of his towering height compared to yours. You give him a dirty look, snatching the wine from his hand. Terry gave you a lazy smirk with low eyes. He looked oh so delectable in his white T-shirt and bootcut jeans.

“That’s how you do me when I come to the rescue, munchkin?”

“I could have gotten it, T,” you roll your eyes.

“When I’m around you know I get everything in the high places, Y/N. Fix your face,” Terry pecks your forehead, “C’mon so we can eat this good steak. I’m tryna see you model that new lingerie.”

Terry backed away with a bite of his bottom lip and a wink. Instantly, your frustration melted away and you couldn’t fight the urge to smile…

Blinking, you bring your attention back to the present. Of course, you have a step stool in the pantry. You retrieve it and place it on the floor. Stepping up, you succeed in grabbing a bottle of red wine. You scan the label before sitting it on the kitchen counter to pour yourself a heaping glass. Sitting on the bar stool, you eat your food and try your best to forget that sudden recollection.

It was so hard to forget. Everything about him was so hard to put away forever. Goosebumps on your skin, vivid memories of how he’d undressed you, talked you through it, admired you, professed how much he’d loved you. Over and over. You take a sip of your wine, fingers trembling around the stem.

That letter triggered everything.

——

The morning of your birthday was uneventful. You woke up later than you’d expected, phone buzzing on its wireless charger with texts wishing you happy birthday. Wiping the crust from your eyes, you roll over onto your belly, snatching up your phone. Friends and family flooded your inbox and created social media posts.

You’re thirty.

You’d think it would feel so odd saying that. Honestly, it didn’t feel any different. Sitting up in bed now, you reply to everyone before climbing out of bed. After your usual morning routine, you make yourself a quick breakfast before heading to your mom’s house. You planned to cook dinner with her and catch up.

The drive over took about forty minutes. You spotted your mother grabbing mail from the mailbox in her robe and slippers. She waved to you happily while standing on the porch. You pull behind her SUV and put the car in park. Stepping out, you give your mother a big, toothy grin before rushing over to embrace her.

“My baby! Happy Birthday!”

You squeeze her tightly, the smell of her scented lotion comforting you.

“I’m glad you’re here. I still have some hot breakfast on the stove.”

“Mama, I ate already.” You reply with a smile.

“You may get hungry again, come on.”

You enter your childhood home to the smell of grits, biscuits, bacon, and eggs. Suddenly, your stomach starts rumbling. Maybe you’ll have a small plate.

“I just had to run out and check the mail—”

You paused your curiosity at the cake your mother baked you when a gasp could be heard. You turn and spot your mother with a hand over her mouth and eyes wide.

“Mama, what is it?”

“Wha–there’s a letter here–from Terry—”

You rush over, taking it from your mother’s hands. She tried to snatch it back but you had your back turned.

“Y/N—”

Hey, Mama.

It’s Terry. Make sure my baby has a good time. Make sure you do everything you wanna do, whenever you wanna do it. And make sure my baby does things. I want you to take her to all the places she’d wanted to go. And be sure to give her a big kiss for me. She’s my special girl.

Love you.

“What does it say?”

Your mother lingered behind you with caution. You read the words a final time before turning, holding out the paper for her. She gripped the edge carefully and it slipped from your grasp. You could feel your knees getting weak, so you flop down into a dining chair. Your mother read the words allowed, her voice trembling.

“I wonder who sent this?” Sniffling, your mother turned the paper over, “it’s been a year.”

“I got a letter in the mail yesterday.” You revealed.

Your mother took a seat across from you. She placed the letter on the table, pressing out the folded line to make it straighter.

“It’s his handwriting for sure,” Your mother stroked the penmanship, “This is so eerie…”

“He’d planned this. Maybe he had a feeling that his days were numbered when he’d left for Louisiana…”

You stand, pacing back and forth. Your mother folded her hands against the table as she watched you.

“Even so, why would he leave? Why would he leave if he had a feeling—”

“Maybe he didn’t.” Your mother said.

“No, the way he worded these letters…it’s as if he’s speaking like he knew he was going to die—”

Your mother put up a hand, “Okay, that’s enough—”

“It’s never going to be enough! It’s never going to be the same!”

You feel your eyes welling up with tears. You release a shuddering breath and try your best to calm your nerves.

“It’s your special day, baby. Please don’t get yourself worked up. Terry wouldn’t want that.”

It didn’t matter what he’d want anyway. He’s gone.

“I need a second.”

You turn on your heels, making your way towards your old bedroom. Inside, you shut the door and settle into your old bed. Kicking off your shoes, you gather the sheets over your body and hide yourself from view. Tears rolled over your nose as you stare at the floral patterns stitched into your comforter.

Your mother is right, this is supposed to be your special day. You’re supposed to be happy and celebrating. Not crying and sad. Not that it wasn’t okay to be sad, but Terry wrote two letters expressing how he’d wanted you to enjoy turning thirty and make the most of it.

Uncovering yourself, you slip from the bed and walk over to your dresser. Opening the top, right drawer, you retrieve a bottle of tequila and a shot glass. Your emergency stash…

“Come on..”

You opened your bedroom door, darkness awaiting you ahead. Distant chatter and laughter from your relatives became muffled when your boyfriend, Terry slipped in behind you before shutting the door. You stumble your way towards the lamp on your end table, flicking it on and igniting the room with a low ambiance. Terry stood with his back pressed against the door, a wrinkled white dress shirt on with black slacks. You had on a navy blue summer dress.

Everyone gathered at your mom’s place after a funeral service for your great aunt May. You didn’t like the woman much. She’d always been hard on you and favored your cousins. Terry walked around your room, eyeing old photographs from your high school days. The sound of your drawer opening caught his attention and he made his way over toward you. With a finger pressed to your lips, you pull out a bottle of tequila that you’d snagged from your parents liquor cabinet.

You were of age to drink, but after being around your family, you needed to sneak a little something. Terry chuckled and shook his head before accepting a shot glass that you’d gotten from a trip to Canun. You pour some in each one before clinking glasses, some of the tequila spilling over the rim and causing both of you to laugh.

You knock back the drink and while your face scrunched at the taste, Terry simple smiled at you.

“Burns, doesn’t it?” He whispered.

“Yeah,” you clear your throat, “I don’t really like this one.”

“Don’t let me find out you can’t handle alcohol.”

“Shut up.”

Terry approached you. Your smile wavered, eyes blinking up at him slowly. The smell of his cologne lingered in your nose. He eyed you down before taking the bottle from your hand.

“I think we should get outta here before your mama comes looking for us,” Terry said.

“Afraid to be alone with me in my room, TJ?” You tease.

Terry chuckled, bringing his face closer to yours.

“I’m afraid of what I might do to you if I stay in here any longer. We both know how loud you can get…”

Standing in your room with that shot glass from Cancun in your hand, you recall that night. You hadn’t washed the glass afterwards, just put it away. You fill it and toast to being thirty before drinking it down in one motion. You were reminded of how bad it tasted but it was worth it.

You put it away before fixing yourself back up to join your mother. She was in the kitchen prepping for dinner when you walked out. She’d heard your footsteps and paused cleaning the collards to look at you.

“I’m sorry for lashing out on you.” You apologized.

Your mother gave you a small smile, “It’s okay. I’m glad you’re better.”

You walk into her arms and she wrapped them around you.

“It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to cry.”

“I know,” you shut your eyes, “We had so many plans for my birthday.”

“I know,” your mother held your face as she looked at you, “And you can keep that memory and enjoy yourself. Surround yourself with the people that love you. Go out and have a good time tonight. Shake some tail and get drunk!”

You laugh and roll your eyes.

You can almost feel the hangover in the morning.

——

“HE DON’T WANNA BE SAVED DON’T SAVE HIM! THAT IS NOT MY NIGGA DON’T CLAIM HIM!”

You rap to the lyrics, the trap beat driving you to shake ass and get low. Birthday sash over your body like a pageant girl and birthday crown on your head, you make the most of your thirtieth birthday at the lounge with your girls as they hype you up.

“GO Y/N! GO Y/N! GO Y/N!”

You felt sexy in your red dress with a plunging neckline that hugged your curves. Strappy stilettos dawned your pretty feet and you’d done a full makeup look. You felt good and looked good, turning heads and drawing attention. Another shot made its way into your hand and you drank it down as your girls cheered you on.

“Woah woah, birthday girl!” Your girlfriend, Candace had to help you because you would have face planted the table covered in drinks, “Take a seat, Princess!”

“I’m too hype to sit! This music is fire!” You drunkenly shout.

“And too pretty and valuable to end up in the ER!” Another friend by the name of Marsha yelled over the music.

You wave them off but sit anyway. A bottle of water was thrust into your hands and you accept it, drinking down half.

It felt good to get out and have a good time. Two years is a long time. Being surrounded by loyal friends warmed your heart. The drunkenness was going to make you cry but you refused to ruin your makeup. They’d been there to protect and support you through it all. You look at each one of them, a big smile on your face.

“What is it?!” A friend named Nancy asked.

“I JUST LOVE YOU GUYSSSSSS!!!!”

You open your arms with a pout of your lip and they all get up to hug you.

“I needed this!” You dab your eyes with a napkin, careful not to ruin your eye makeup, “After everything with Terry, I didn’t know what it felt like to have fun and let loose.”

“IM GLAD YOU DECIDED TO STEP OUT! TERRY WOULDV’E WANTED THAT!”

Curious, you lean into Marsha to speak to her closely.

“Did you ever…receive a letter from Terry?”

Marsha’s eyes grew wide. Your other girls came in close to see what was going on.

“You did, didn’t you?” You asked.

“…I—yes. We all did. We…we didn’t want to tell you because we didn’t want trigger anything—”

“Please don’t be upset!” Nancy begged, “We didn’t want to make you sad.”

Candace sat in silence staring at you.

“I’m not upset! It’s okay!”

“You sure?” Candace questioned, grabbing your hands.

“Totally! What did it say?”

They each shared a look.

“It sad something along the lines of making sure we look after you and that he wants you to make the most of your birthday and life and have fun and not worry about him. He said that he loved us and appreciated us for always being there for you.” Marsha revealed.

Candace and Nancy nodded their heads in agreement.

“Wow,” you give your friends a drunken smile, “He wrote you guys too. I miss him so much…”

Marsha strokes your back while Nancy fanned your face to cool you down. You release a meditating breath before laughing.

“Terry always had a trick up his sleeve! How he managed to pull this all off is amazing to me!”

When they realized you weren’t sad, they joined in on the laughter.

“He was always a man on a mission! You remember how he got you, right?” Candace said.

“Had that man showing up to your job with flowers! Took you on fifty first dates like your favorite movie!” Nancy recalled.

“He knew what he wanted and he didn’t hesitate! That’s a man right there! God created only one Terry Richmond for a reason! That shit can’t be replicated!”

“I know that’s right!” Marsha shouted.

“Let’s toast to Terry and his forever love for our girl!”

With new shots, you all raise a glass and look towards the ceiling before tapping it against the table and drinking it down.

The rest of the night went by in a blur. You were dropped off to your apartment and tucked in. Your alarm went off, waking you up with a raging headache and a dry mouth. Your makeup stained your pillow and the smell of bacon wafted your nose. You sit up abruptly, looking around with crusty eyes.

“TERRY?!”

Your loud voice alerted whoever was in your apartment and several footsteps could be heard outside your door. Marsha, Candace, and Nancy came in wearing t-shirts and panties with spatulas in their hands.

“Hey, Y/N, you okay?” Candace asked with a worried look.

“I…”

You look around, swallowing spit with difficulty.

“What’s wrong?” Candace placed a hand on your knee.

“I must of been having a nightmare.”

You scratch your head and plaster on a smile.

“I’m okay. I smell bacon!”

Candace stood up to let you out of bed. You skip towards your bathroom to brush your teeth.

“We’ll be out in the kitchen, Y/N!”

“Okay!”

The door shut behind them and you stare at your reflection, the running water filling your ears. You were used to waking up to the smell of bacon whenever Terry cooked you breakfast. You brush your teeth and clean your face, putting your hair up into a bun before exiting your room.

As you make your way into the living room, your eyes light up when you notice a large bouquet of red roses dusted with glitter. Your friends enter the living room, filling you in on the surprise being left at your door. You admire and smell the roses before retrieving a card that was attached to the vase.

Taking a seat, you open it, staring down at a pretty birthday card. Opening the card, two plane tickets fall out and there are written words on the inside.

Dear Y/N,

You know I had to get you red roses! Remember how we always talked about visiting Jamaica? Well, here’s two tickets. I have family there and I want you to stay with them and make the most of a good time. Take your mother with you. I know that would make you happy. When you get there, you’ll be able to visit all my favorite places. Happy Birthday my special angel.

P.S,

I Love You.

You were so drawn into the card that you hadn’t realized your friends were reading too. They wiped away tears and admired your pretty roses. You smiled, the tickets in your lap. They each hug you tight, causing you to cry. For once, they were tears of joy. You couldn’t wait to surprise your mother with the ticket. She’d always wanted to go to Jamaica.

——

Soft white sand beneath your toes.

Turquoise water stretching out for miles.

Palm trees swaying from the warm breeze.

Red, green, and yellow dress wrapped around your body snugly.

Your faux locs brushed across your back, the hair charms tickling your skin. You turn to pick up your coconut, bringing the straw to your lips and sucking down the delicious water.

The smell of ackee and saltfish wafted your nose. The spices traveling from the open patio doors that led into the compound. Bob Marley serenaded you as you sway in your spot.

Terry had cousins in Montego Bay that welcomed your mother and you with open arms. An entire compound surrounded by the beach. They cooked tasty Caribbean dishes everyday and you got a good tan whenever you could. There were jeeps on the compound and your mother and you would drive out to town to shop and do tourist activities.

Being surrounded by Terry’s relatives brought out a comfort you hadn’t felt in a while. You’d see his parents from time to time, spoke with them everyday, but his mother brought out a sadness in you that you tried to avoid. In Jamaica, you were filled with laughter. They showed you photos of Terry in his youth. Big ears, goofy smile, deep tan, and a surfboard in his hands.

You had a letter waiting for you.

This is where I sat thinking about you after the very first time we met. You didn't look real to me at first. I never saw so many colors on one girl before... But you looked like you belonged out there, all right. You and all your colors. Do you remember the first thing you ever said to me? ("I'm lost.") Oh, you didn't look lost, not to me. At first, the no-talking thing didn't last. Before long, I couldn't get you to shut up. But you were so cute, trying to impress me with all your grand plans. I had no idea what you were talking about... I didn't have a clue, actually. I loved you right then and there. Life had changed as I knew it. And now it's changed again, love. See, I don't worry about you remembering me... It's that girl on the road you keep forgetting. "My business is to create. It doesn't even matter what you do." You told me that, remember?

P.S.

So go home. Go find it. Find that thing that makes you like nobody else. You’re unique.

“Y/N! You hungry?”

You turn, shielding your eyes from the sun rays. Your mother stood on the patio with a drink in her hand. Your stomach rumbled as you pushed yourself up from the sand, brushing the grains from your dress. You jog over, trying to avoid your feet from reacting to the hot sand. Slipping on your sandals, you climb and take a seat on a patio chair. The table was covered with all the foods you’d grown to love on your trip. You help yourself to a few pieces of plantain first.

Around your neck is one of Terry’s necklaces from his child hood. A handcrafted, wooden, beaded necklace with the colors of the Jamaican flag. Your mother sat next to you and made your plate for you. Terry’s great aunt, uncle, and cousins joined you. This was your last day in Jamaica and tonight there would be a farewell ceremony.

“Dig in!” Terry’s Aunt Chandice said. She had carob skin that glistened like onyx stone in the sun with thick locs that almost touched her ankles. His uncle Sean reminded you of Terry with his green eyes and striking features. He too had long locs that he wore in a bun.

His cousins were older than you but only by a few years. Two boys and a girl. Chris, Tarone, and Raeni.

You learned that the two boys and Terry used to compete in surf competitions. Raeni was into music and dance. During your trip she’d taught you how to move your hips and she even dragged you to a club or two where you let loose with her friends.

“You’ll come back, yeah?” Aunt Chandice asked while they cleared the table.

“Of course!”

You loved it there. You didn’t want to leave.

After lunch, you took a long nap and afterwards you went for a swim. The hours ticked on and soon it was ceremony time. All of you dressed in all white as you stood on the beach, torches lit beneath the sunset. You brought out a small tightly sealed canister filled with some of Terry’s ashes. Handing it over to Uncle Sean, you stand back and watch them have their own traditional memorial ceremony to honor Terry.

Fresh tears cascaded down your cheeks while Aunt Chandice, Raeni, and your mom comforted you. Uncle Sean soon asked you to step forward with the others, each of you taking turns to pour his ashes into the sea. A piece of Terry sprinkled in places that he’d loved. You danced and laughed, twirling around and picturing Terry’s soul watching you from the clouds with a proud smile.

After many cups of rum, you retreat to your room, falling in bed and staring out at the moon. Sleep overcame you and as you drifted off, you dreamed of being in a boat, slowly floating under the moon. Strong arms circled you and the smell of sea spray tickled your nose. You open your eyes and look up, a pair of eyes that reminded you of the Caribbean Sea staring back at you.

“Terry Richmond.” You whisper.

“Y/N.” 

He’s shirtless with white linen pants on.

“What do you love most about Jamaica?”

“It’s a part of you…it’s a home away from home.”

Terry hummed, stroking your arm.

“Are you happy?”

Terry peered down at you. He sat up on his elbow, hovering above you, the moonlight creating a glow that surrounded him. You reach up to stroke his sculpted cheek.

“I am. More now that I know you’re okay.”

“It’s not easy,” Your eyes shine with tears, “I’m going to miss you forever.”

“I know, it’s okay,” Terry gave you a reassuring smile, “I’ll always miss you.”

Terry closed the distance between you two and his soft lips that tasted of mangoes and saltwater molded into yours perfectly. You stroke his broad back with your fingertips, electricity sparking your heart. The kiss went from patient to fervent, Terry’s hands in your hair, stroking the pattering of your butterfly locs. His tongue flicked yours and he sucked on your lips hungrily.

“Baby, baby,” Terry spoke against your lips, forehead against yours, “I have to go…I love you.”

“No…don’t leave me…”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss him more. Terry grunted into your mouth. You stroke his tanned skin, squeezing his muscles and molding your hands against his body to feel as much of him as you could before it was too late.

It was already too late. But this felt so real.

It felt as if you were grabbing air.

“Terry…no…please.”

“I love you, Y/N…”

Shooting up from the bed, you feel around, trying to grab a hold of something. Anything. You look around, the reality of where you were settling over you like a weighted blanket. You clutch your chest, sweaty skin beneath your palm. With your other hand, you touch your lips. Shutting your eyes, you see the last images of Terry before they faded away.

It was him. It had to be him.

He visited you in your dreams. He’s happy. He’s in heaven. You smile as tears roll down your cheeks.

Acceptance.

——

Dear Y/N,

I don't know how much time I’ll have left with you in this world. I don't mean literally, I mean you're out buying ice cream and you'll be home soon. But I have a feeling this is the last letter, because there is only one thing left to tell you. It isn't to go down memory lane or make you buy a lamp, you can take care of yourself without any help from me. It's to tell you how much you move me, how you changed me. You made me a man, by loving me Y/N. And for that, I am eternally grateful... Literally. If you can promise me anything, promise me that whenever you're sad, or unsure, or you lose complete faith, that you'll try to see yourself through my eyes. Thank you for the honor of being my fiancé. I'm a man with no regrets. How lucky am I. You made my life, baby. But I'm just one chapter in yours. There'll be more. I promise. So here it comes, the big one. Don't be afraid to fall in love again. Watch out for that signal, when life as you know it ends.

P.S.

I will always love you.

All of his letters.

You sat on your living room floor with a glass of wine on his birthday. This letter you hadn’t opened months prior, wanting to save it for his special day. He would have been thrity–three. You stare at a framed photo of Terry in his MCMAP attire surrounded by recruits with a big smile and a sweaty face. You’d cut your hair and got a couple tattoos honoring him. One of which was on your butt. That made you giggle. Maybe you would fall in love again someday. Maybe not.

There’s only one Terry Richmond.

Grabbing a pen, you open a notebook and start writing your own letter. It was more so for closure. When you think of Terry now, you smile and reminisce on what it felt like to be with him. You cherish the memories and created new ones.

Dear Terry,

you said you wanted me to fall in love again... And maybe one day I will, but there are all kinds of love out there. This is my one and only life... And it's a great and terrible and short and endless thing... And none of us come out of it alive. I don't have a plan except that it's time my mom laughed again. She's never seen the world. She's never seen The Botanical Garden, so I'm taking her there to where we started. Maybe now she'll understand. I don't know how you did it, but you brought me back from the dead. I'll write to you again soon.

P.S.

Guess what.

The End

@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @uzumaki-rebellion @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @hotgrlcece @blackerthings @deja-r @hearteyes-for-killmonger @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @blackpinup22 @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter r @dashhoney25

[katelynnwrites]

Merry Christmas (From Me To You) | Lea Schüller

word count: 1895

warnings: tooth rotting fluff

summary: you gift lea something special for christmas

a/n: merry christmas! i'm also fully intending to write a prequel to this 🎄

A quiet simple Christmas.

It was all Lea had wished for really, after the year she’s had. Her club season with Bayern, qualifying for the Olympics and then winning it with Germany, the little injuries she’d sustained here and there…it’s had its ups and downs and now all Lea wants is just some peace and quiet at last.

That’s what she gets when she wakes, a soft smile immediately forming on her face.

You have an arm draped loosely around her waist, your face buried in her neck.

Lea thinks you must be trying to steal her body warmth with how close you are to her.

‘Merry Christmas my love.’ She whispers, pressing a gentle kiss onto your hair.

You stir a bit, mumbling unintelligibly before deliberately tugging more of the blanket away from your lover who laughs out loud at your blatant attempt to be the blanket hog.

‘If you’re cold, you could have just asked me to hold you.’ The blonde teases.

‘Then hug me.’

‘Please.’ You add cheekily.

Lea’s chuckles fill the room as she does as you ask, pulling you flush against her.

You sigh happily, melting into your wife whose comfort immediately envelops you.

‘Better than any space heater.’

‘Oh is that what you married me for?’ Lea gasps in mock outrage.

‘Course.’ You grin.

Soaking in the moment, you lay there for another twenty minutes before finally deciding to get up.

‘Merry Christmas Lea!’ You cheer.

The striker giggles, ‘Merry Christmas indeed.’

You lean in to share a slow kiss with her, trying to make sure she knows how thankful you are for her. Lea must feel it because she reciprocates in kind, taking her time in kissing you back.

Then she pulls away with a contented sigh, staring at you in the way she does sometimes, like she can’t believe you’re real.

With a tender caress to your cheek, she asks, ‘Waffles sound good to you?’

It does and ten minutes later, after you’ve brushed your teeth together, you’re sitting at the breakfast counter and Lea is wearing that adorably ridiculous apron that she always does when she cooks.

Embroidered on the hot pink apron are the words, ‘Kiss the cook.’

Obi had gotten it for her as a gag gift and you love it. happily kissing the chef every time she puts it on.

‘All you have to do is sit still and look pretty for me okay?’ Lea insists, waving away your protests to help.

‘Meine liebe come on. It’s not fair. The least I can do is cut the strawberries.’

‘Nope. You see this apron? It gives me the honour of being the chef. Your chef. So please just relax and let your personal chef do all the work.’

Rolling your eyes, you hold your hands up in surrender and do as she asks.

Lea smirks in satisfaction as she begins preparing the ingredients.

******

Breakfast is amazing. Your wife rushes through her meal though, fidgeting despite her best efforts as she waits for you to finish.

You giggle at her as you finish the last bite of waffle, purposely taking a while to chew and swallow it.

When you’re truly done, she practically dumps all the dirty dishes into the sink.

‘Okay! Time for presents please my love?’

The blonde hops from one foot to another, glancing at you with pleading blue eyes.

Unable to stop the laugh that bubbles up, you acquiesce with a nod and a bright smile.

Sitting by the tree, you’re quickly presented with a meticulously wrapped gift.

‘For you.’ Lea says, excitement clear in her words.

Picking at the sticky tape holding it closed, you unwrap it to find a delicate silver bracelet in a small box.

‘Oh Lea…it’s beautiful. Thank you.’

Your wife prompts, ‘Look at the inscription.’

It’s cool to touch and you hold it up so you can scrutinise it more closely.

Six digits in a careful cursive font.

Your wedding date.

It must show on your face, how touched you are because Lea places a light kiss onto your forehead.

‘I’m glad you like it.

‘I love it and I love you.’ You promise.

The Bayern Munich player blushes, ‘I love you too.’

Even after all this time, years of dating and a year of marriage, you still manage to elicit this reaction from her. It goes both ways.

Lea happily agrees to help you put on the bracelet and said piece of jewellery is reflecting the christmas lights strung on your tree when you reach under it for your wife’s present.

You had specifically chosen a plain red wrapping paper, tying an unassuming white ribbon around it. You know of the blonde’s mischievous habit all too well.

She can be silly, your Lea. That side of her is well hidden, only ever surfacing with the people she is truly comfortable with.

Even then, it’s only on special occasions like Christmas.

Her fans would never think of her as the sort of person who would inspect every individual package under the tree, looking for those with her name written on them and attempting to guess what it could be from the shape, size and weight of it but you know better.

Over the past few days, you’d caught Lea shaking various presents of hers, attempting to find the tiniest hint of what it could be.

It was why you’d only set out yours last night, pushing it all the way under the tree as a precaution.

Your efforts must have worked because the striker accepts it eagerly, muttering under her breath about how could she not have seen it before.

Her enthusiasm in tearing the paper off makes you giggle, the look on her face as she stops short getting a louder reaction.

With her forehead scrunched up and head tilted to the side, it’s an endearing sight.

Lea’s so genuinely curious when she asks, ‘Why are you giving me this back?’

The blonde’s fingers run over the worn leather cover of the journal she had given you for your last birthday. Unbeknownst to you, it had been something she’d bought on a whim after noticing how much you like writing down your thoughts, ideas and little observations.

Now your laughter trails off, something your wife can’t place glimmering in your eyes as you whisper, ‘Just open it. It’s yours now, you’ll see.’

With her heart beating faster in anticipation, Lea does as you request.

The first page is one she’d recognised immediately, her own handwriting being displayed in the form of a short note to you.

The following pages are unfamiliar and Lea has to take a moment to read them.

Your neat, deliberate handwriting fills the pages, dates marked carefully at the top of each entry.

17 March - My wife brought me coffee this morning before training. She spent ages getting it just right because she knows how picky I am. I think it tasted better because she made it for me.

Lea blinks, tears already forming in her eyes as she takes in the short but heartfelt paragraph. She flips again.

23 June - We spent the evening on the couch watching a movie. I think it was supposed to be a thriller, but Lea fell asleep halfway through. I didn’t mind. She’s so beautiful even when she sleeps.

Another page. This one practically making her heart burst with how much affection she holds for you.

19 November - After a tough match, Lea surprised me with flowers. She didn’t say much, just kissed me and handed them to me. She always knows what I need before I even do. I must be the luckiest person in the world to have her love me the way she does.

Entry after entry, page after page, you had chronicled the quiet moments of their life together. Little things that might have seemed inconsequential to anyone else but had clearly meant everything to you.

As the German woman continues to read, picking pages at random now that it’s clear the entire journal has been filled with these entries, her hands begin to tremble.

The sheer amount of love you’ve condensed in these pages…it’s the most precious gift Lea thinks she’s ever received till she reaches the final page.

Her breath hitches when she sees it.

Taped there, at the center of the page, is a small ultrasound photo.

Lea’s vision blurs as she takes it in, her mind spinning.

Beneath the picture, written in your achingly familiar handwriting are the words, ‘Merry Christmas Lea.’

For a moment, she simply stares at the page, unable to move or speak. All traces of her previous playfulness have disappeared, replaced with a quiet reverence.

Her fingers brush over the print out carefully as though trying to confirm it is real.

Your heart is pounding when slowly, she looks up at you with hopeful blue eyes.

‘You’re serious? I-Is this…’

‘Real. It’s so real.’ You confirm, salty tears of your own sliding down your cheeks.

Your wife sets the journal aside, closing the space between your bodies in a swift motion.

‘You’re incredible. T-This is everything. You’re everything.’ She stammers, holding onto you like you’re a dream and she’s afraid she might wake up.

‘I found out two weeks ago and I wanted to tell you but thought it might make the perfect present. I wanted to make it special because you deserve that.’

Lea pulls you into a breathtaking kiss then, only able to bear pulling away a fractional amount.

Just enough for her to place her hand over your stomach, tentatively brushing against the fabric of the sweater you’re wearing.

‘You’re in there.’ She whispers to your baby, the sentence filled so completely with adoration even though the blonde’s only known about them for a handful of minutes.

Her thumb moves in a slow circle, fresh tears spilling forth.

‘I can’t believe this…’ She chokes out.

You place your hand over hers, ‘You are going to be an amazing mom.’

Lea lets out a weak, sort of watery laugh, ‘Not without you meine liebe. We’re going to do this together. I’m so in love with you and I-’

She glances down to where her hand is resting, ‘I already love them too.’

The gasping sob you let out at that moment matches Lea’s, and you two stay like that for a long moment, foreheads touching and your hands joined over the tiny miracle growing inside you.

******

Later, much later when you’ve gone to make some tea, Lea picks up the journal again.

She flips through the pages, rereading every word, her tears drying but her smile never fading. When she gets to the last page again, she carefully folds the journal to her chest, cradling it as though it’s something fragile and irreplaceable.

When you return, Lea reaches for you, pulling you back into her arms. Her voice is soft but full of love as she mumbles against your shoulder, ‘You’ve made me the happiest person in the world. Every day, you make me the happiest person in the world.’

In answer, you can only smile, pressing a tender kiss to your lover’s cheek, ‘You do the same for me every day.’

Right there and then, as the snow falls outside and Lea pulls you even closer, she knows that this is by far, the best Christmas she’s ever had.

German Translation:

Meine liebe - My love

[yelenasdiary]

One Last Gift

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Fem! Reader

Summary: It’s Yelena’s first Christmas with her family again & it’s also your first Christmas with Yelena as a couple.

Teeny Tiny Angst & Fluff

Translations: Detka (baby)

Warnings: Mentions of Red Room & Mentions of Melina being shot | 2.8K

AC: I had this little idea for a while & I’ve been waiting for the holiday season to pick up so I could share this with you all! I also wanna say thank you to @daddynattt for her ask which added some extra details to this! I hope you all enjoy! x

Holiday Special Masterlist

Yelena stirred slightly, the warmth of the sun peeking through the curtains as she blinked a few times. She let out a content sigh as she rolled over, reaching for you but she was met with your side of the bed pre-made. She pouted lightly before she realized the smell of freshly baked cookies greeted her, causing a smile to tug at her lips as she sat up. December 1st, officially the month of Christmas and to say Yelena was excited was an understatement. This year is not only her first Christmas with you but also with her family after the events of taking down the Red Room, she had been waiting for this holiday to arrive. 

She stood up and walked over to the wardrobe, searching for her Christmas themed slippers and robe before making her way to the kitchen. Dressed in a comfortable oversized sweater that fell just off one shoulder and a pair of cute pajama shorts, Yelena watched as you moved gracefully from the oven to the island in the middle of the kitchen before you picked up the mixing bowl and began to dance around the room. Yelena leaned against the doorframe, admiring your dance moves while you listened to your favorite Christmas album with your AirPods in. 

“Lena!” You jumped, almost dropping the mixing bowl, “you scared me!” you added before taking out one of your AirPods. “I’m sorry detka” Yelena chuckled, “you looked so cute dancing around as if nobody was watching” she added, pushing herself off the door frame to wrap her arms around you. 

“I didn’t want to wake you with the speaker” you said, giving your girlfriend a soft smile.

“I wouldn’t have mind” she assured you, “I’m kind of jealous you started baking without me” she added. 

“I’m sorry love, I woke up so early and couldn’t get back to sleep so I needed to do something. But don’t worry too much because these babies will need to be decorated so, would you like to help me with that?” You asked. 

Yelena nodded before placing a soft kiss on your forehead, “I’d love too” she replied softly and letting you free of her loving hold. You smiled before you turned around to help Yelena set up the icing and other tools for the activity. 

While she was busy decorating the Christmas themed cookies, you took a moment to admire her. Her hair still slightly messy from her good night’s sleep, her eyes full of dedication to perfecting the icing task, her lips in a slight pout making you smile softly at the sight of her. Deep down, Yelena’s mind was racing with so many other ideas she wished to do over the holidays, all her ideas added to her excitement was bursting to come out. 

Over the next few days, you found yourself bringing home some extra decorations to put up around the apartment. You tried your best to not buy anything too out there in fear that Yelena wouldn’t be interested in having the apartment in full festive mode but she surprised you that afternoon when you came home from training to find her adding more fairy lights to the apartment. 

The whole apartment full of Christmas spirit, the sofa’s throw pillows were now Christmas themed with an added festive green throw blanked over hanging off the arm, the bed covers had printed ornaments all over it, small snowmen ornaments sat jolly on the bedside tables, the dining room table was set as if Christmas dinner was happening within minutes. 

“Yelena?” You said in a slightly confused tone. 

“You’re back!” She beamed, “I hope you like it, Kate and I went out and got some more decorations to add” she quickly added with excitement. 

“Baby, I love it! I only brought a few things here and there because I didn’t want to freak you out in case you weren’t interested in the holidays” you admitted causing Yelena to frown lightly as she stepped off the stepladder. “Why would you think that?” She asked, gently placing her hands on your hips. 

“I don’t know, you just didn’t really seem that into the idea…I just didn’t want to bring up any bad memories for you” you hesitantly replied. 

Yelena’s eyes dropped for a moment, her mind reminding her of what Christmas used to be for her. A random day of the year, empty boxes wrapped up and placed under a tree for her to rip open for fun then it was on to the next holiday all in the same day. She looked back up at you, “This year is different” she started, “I have you, I have Fanny, I have Kate and I have my family and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Getting to spend the holidays with you is something I never thought I’d ever get to do, with you or with anybody so for me, this Christmas is already so special” she added. 

You swore if your heart could explode, it would’ve. She looked at you with such love and care that you couldn’t believe just how strong she truly was. After everything she had been through, she was still just a big child deep down, a child who wanted nothing more than to be a part of traditional holidays. 

“Then, what are we waiting for? I saw Walmart have a good range of decorations” you smiled. 

----

Christmas Eve came faster than you expected. Yelena was busy loading up her blue pick-up truck with presents and luggage while you were getting ready for a 9 hours’ drive. You and Yelena were off to Ohio for the remainder of the holidays, Fanny included. You could tell how excited Yelena was, she had a check-list of everything you guys needed to pack and if it weren’t for you, she would’ve had the car packed a week ago. 

Usually you weren’t one for such long drives, the idea of sitting for long periods of time before a pit stop would dawn on you but rest assured, Yelena knew exactly what to do to distract you. With Yelena in the driver’s seat, you in the passenger seat and Fanny lying between you both, it was a small family road trip that you found yourself feeling excited for. 

The crisp morning air hit you almost instantly as you stepped out the front door, Yelena giving the truck one last check over while you made yourself comfortable in the passenger seat. The clock on her dashboard flashing ‘6:32am’ reminded you just how early the morning was. Tiny snowflakes started to cover the windshield as you wrapped your hands around the warmth of your travel mug, filled with hot coco to keep your insides from freezing. 

“Lena, the truck is fine” you called out, wishing she would hurry up and turn the heating on. 

“Doesn’t hurt to give the oil a check before a long drive” she replied, closing the hood of the heavy truck. Once buckled in, she started the truck and instantly turned the heating on, “is that better detka?” She chuckled lightly, looking over at you. 

“Hey, you’re the one who got me out of bed at 5am, this is your fault” you teased. 

“I want to beat the traffic” Yelena said, playfully shaking her head as she began to reverse the truck out of the driveway. Fanny, excited to be going on a road trip sat up proudly as she watched every movement from the wide window before her. 

As Yelena merged onto the highway, the open fields once green were now covered in snow. Tips of trees frosted and roads icy while Yelena’s Christmas music playlist set the festive tone. She hummed along to the catchy tunes, making the drive perfect for new memories as you both began to sing along to some of the classics with Fanny howling along. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever asked this” you started, breaking the moment of silence, “what’s your favourite Christmas movie?” You asked. 

“Die Hard of course!” Yelena replied without a second thought. 

“Really?” You cocked a brow. 

“Of course, it’s one of the best ones!” Your girlfriend smiled, not taking her eyes off the icy road. “If you say so, I think the best one is clearly the iconic How The Grinch Stole Christmas” you argued. 

“I’ll act surprised by that answer” Yelena chuckled once more.

“So, what do you think Melina will cook?” You asked curiously. 

“Probably too much food, apparently she tried to teach Nat a few things in the kitchen last night too!” She said, “then kicked her out of the kitchen” she added. 

“Oh god, poor Nat!” You chuckled. 

As you entered the final stretch of your road trip, the twinkling Christmas lights of Yelena’s hometown sparked excitement within you. With each turn, you could see Yelena becoming even more eager to get to her family’s home. “You’re gonna love Melina’s pigs!” She beamed, “she trained them like dogs!” She added. 

“Dogs? Really? So, they play fetch?” You questioned, triggering Fanny to sit up proudly, searching your lap for a ball. “Not yet Fan!” You laughed, giving the pup a pet. 

“I mean, probably” 

Finally, after nearly 9 hours of laughter and joy, you pulled into her family’s driveway. The house was aglow with festive lights, and the sounds of laughter spilled from the open door. You turned to Yelena, both of you glowing with happiness.

“Are you ready for this?” Yelena asked. 

“Absolutely! Also, because my arse is starting to hurt” you replied, making the blonde laugh. 

Yelena opened her door and slid out easily, Fanny rushing behind her with excitement, she knew exactly where she was. Her tail wagging endlessly as her wet nose touched the surface of the first layer of snow on the ground. “Ah! You made it!” You heard a familiar voice calling from the house. 

“Hi dad!” Yelena smiled softly as she began to unload the back of the truck. 

“Merry Christmas Alexei!” You replied with a smile, closing the passenger door behind you before giving your girlfriend a helping hand. 

“Merry Christmas, Y/n!” Alexei replied in a jolly tone. 

“Are you going to help us or just stand there?” Yelena asked with a cocked brow. 

“Oh yes!” Her father replied, rushing down the small steps to carry the remaining luggage. 

Walking into her parents’ home, it wasn’t exactly as you expected. There was a tree, littered with gifts underneath, traditional Russian Christmas songs played softly in the background, the fireplace was lit giving you a warm welcome as you stepped into the living room. “Hey! you guys finally made it! How was the drive?” Natasha greeted, giving you a hug after you placed the luggage at your feet. 

“Long!” You chuckled, “merry Christmas” you added with a smile. 

“I bet, I hope Yelena didn’t talk this place up too much for the whole ride and Merry Christmas” the red head smiled.

“Oh, nothing more than the normal” you chuckled, “Is the kitchen this way? I have some salads I made up” you asked. Natasha nodded, “Wanda’s in there with Melina, it’s the only part of the house I’m banded from apparently!” She replied, chuckling to herself. 

You took the small cooler to the kitchen, the smell of mixed things making you hungry for Christmas dinner. “Y/n!” Melina beamed, brushing her hands on an apron that you could only assume was Alexei’s with ‘kiss the chef’ printed on it. 

“Hi” you smiled sweetly, “I brought some salads with me, I hope that’s okay” you said, placing the cooler at your feet. “Perfect! We needed some salad” she smiled, “leave that with me, have a drink and relax” she added.

“Are you sure? I’d be happy to help you both” you offered, giving Wanda a smile. 

“Oh honey, we’re almost done in here” Wanda said, returning the soft smile. 

“Yes! And you’ve been traveling all day, go relax! Natasha will get you whatever you like” Melina said, opening the cooler. 

“Well, if you both say so” you smiled before heading back to the living room where you found Natasha, Yelena and Alexei. Nat was sat on the sofa, shaking her head softly to herself while Alexei told Yelena the great story of how he managed to find the perfect tree, cut it down and brought it back only to find out it was too big for the living room and that is why the top of the tree was cut off and is placed next to the main tree. 

“So in conclusion, you’re an idiot” Yelena said, looking up at her father. 

“Well – “ Alexei paused, unable to come up with something to fire back to his daughter, “we have tree, okay?” He added finally. Yelena chuckled as she took her coat off, throwing it over the sofa’s arm. 

----

Christmas morning, you slowly woke to see Yelena by the window watching the snowflakes dance in the air as they gently landed on the ground, adding to the snowy, winter wonderland that Christmas Eve had started with a hot chocolate in her hands. “Good morning” she said soft and sweetly, not need to see you to know you were awake. 

“Good morning” you replied, sitting up with the thick covers to keep you warm. 

“It’s finally Christmas” the blonde smiled to herself; her eyes trapped by the snow’s beauty.

“Shall we go see if the others are awake?” You asked, knowing she’d been up for a while. She turned to you and nodded, the look her eyes filled with excitement. 

You slipped out of bed, grabbing your robe to wrap around you before the two of you wandered into the living room, already filled with the colorful lights from the massive, half tree, Natasha and Wanda were sat in Alexei’s arm hair, Wanda comfortable in Nat’s lap. 

“Merry Christmas sleepy heads!” Wanda smiled.

“Just her!” Yelena replied pointing to you, “I’ve been up since 6!” She added, trying to hide her excitement. Alexei entered the room before you could say a word, “Everyone gather around, get close!” He announced, Melina following behind him.

You and Yelena sat down side by side on the sofa with Melina on the end, Alexei playing Santa as he began to hand out gifts. Yelena’s excitement showed through the sparkle in her eyes as she watched everybody open their gifts, she slowly opened her own gifts but her attention was on everybody else and seeing their reactions. 

The room was filled with bubbling laughter and joy as the living room floor soon became a sight to see, wrapping paper and festive ribbon covering it with Yelena finally adding to it when she opened her gifts. 

“I have one last gift!” Melina announced, pulling out a wrapped present from behind her back. She looked softly at Yelena, “open it, dear” she said, handing the blonde the present. 

Curiosity got the better of her as she carefully peeled away the festive paper, a lovely box covered in a winter, starry night design now in her lap as she slowly lifted the lid. Her breath hitched, she looked up at Melina. Inside, nested carefully on green tissue paper was a Twilight Sparkle plush toy.

“I..it’s the s-same one” Yelena whispered as the room fell silent. Her eyes fell back to the toy in the box, her mind racing back to when she was six years old, clinging onto the toy with her dear life. Her mother injured with a bullet wound, tears streaming down her face as she hugged her mother tightly only to be ripped away without ever knowing if her mother would be okay.

“I never found the original one and I remember how happy it made you that year you got it for your birthday. I know it might be childish now, but I thought you might like it” Melina smiled softly, her eyes warm as tears built up in Yelena’s big green eyes. She held the plushie closer to her chest, letting out a heavy sigh as if she was finally letting go of a horrible memory, she had kept all these years. 

“I love it, thank you mama” she finally said, her voice steadier now. 

You gently placed a hand on your girlfriend’s shoulder to comfort her. “It’s okay to embrace your inner child” Melina replied before pushing herself up out of her chair to hug her youngest. You heard a light whisper come from her but you weren’t sure what she said but seeing the soft smile on Yelena’s lips, you knew it was something she needed to hear. 

Wanda, sensing the emotional weight of the moment, broke the silence with a lighthearted tone. “So, who’s going to have a tea party with the pony today?” She teased, causing everyone to laugh and ease the tension. 

The rest of the day continued with joy, laughter and shared memories. Yelena, like a child, placed her toy in every room she was in. She felt a warmth in her heart that she had forgotten ever existed, she was finally home and surrounded by those who loved her the most. 

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[estellesdoll]

31 𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓 | 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

⊹. 𝒅𝒂𝒚 25 : 𝑯𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𖧧 . ָ࣪    ִֶָ

𓄹 ࣪.𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𓄹 ࣪.𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 𓄹 ࣪.𝒏𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𓄹 ࣪.𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 : The holidays bring warmth and love, but also unresolved family struggles, as Rafe defends your place in his life while embracing fatherhood.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 : (soft) dad!rafe cameron x pregnant!reader

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 : fluff, angst, family tension, pregnancy themes

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 : 2k

The Cameron household was filled with the warmth of the season. The scent of roasted turkey mingled with the sweet aroma of cinnamon and pine.

The Christmas tree sparkled in the corner, its lights twinkling as you sat nestled on the couch, wrapped in a cozy blanket.

Your hand rested on your growing belly, your thoughts drifting to the life you were about to bring into the world.

Rafe was nearby, making sure everything was perfect for you. His love and concern for you during your pregnancy were unwavering, though there was a nervous energy in the air.

It wasn’t from him; it was from the dynamic with his family, and today felt like it was all bubbling to the surface.

Sarah was nearby, teasing Rafe about becoming a dad, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “I still can’t believe you’re going to be a father,” she teased, her voice light but affectionate.

Rafe rolled his eyes but smiled at his sister. “Why? You think I’m not capable?”

“Of course you are,” Sarah responded quickly. “I just think it’s weird, that’s all.”

You laughed softly, shifting your position to make yourself more comfortable. "It’s weird for me too," you admitted with a grin, earning a chuckle from both Rafe and Sarah.

Wheezie, who was sitting on the floor with her toys, looked up. "I think it’s cool," she chimed in. "I get to be an aunt."

"Yes, you do," Rafe agreed, his voice warm. "And you’re going to be the best one."

As the conversation continued, you noticed that Rose and Ward, who were quietly sitting at the table, hadn’t said much.

You could feel the tension simmering in the room. Rose caught your eye for a moment, offering you a soft, understanding smile. But Ward was different.

Ward’s eyes were cold, distant, even as he tried to hide it. He didn’t quite seem to approve of everything that was happening.

You couldn’t quite place it—maybe it was because Rafe had chosen to bring you, someone outside of their world, into their family or maybe it was because of your pregnancy.

Either way, it was clear Ward wasn’t fully onboard.

As the meal continued, the tension between Rafe and his father only seemed to grow. Ward’s forced smiles and clipped words were getting harder for Rafe to ignore. You saw the way his shoulders stiffened, his eyes darting nervously between his father and you.

"I think I’ll go get the dessert ready," you said, standing up, trying to break the tension.

Rafe grabbed your hand before you could walk away. His touch was gentle but firm. "You okay?" he asked quietly, his voice filled with concern.

You smiled, nodding. "I’m fine. I just… need a minute."

He seemed to hesitate, then pulled you in for a soft kiss on the forehead. "Don’t let him get to you. I’m right here, okay?"

You nodded, but the tight knot in your chest didn’t loosen. You could feel Ward’s disapproval creeping into the air, and it hurt to think that this—this moment—was what Rafe was still trying to work through with his family.

Later, after dinner, the family dispersed. Sarah and Wheezie went to the living room to watch Christmas movies, and Rose started cleaning up the table. Ward stood by the window, staring outside as if trying to make sense of everything.

Rafe joined you on the couch, pulling you into his side. He held you close, his hands resting on your belly. “I wish he’d just… accept it, you know?” His voice was filled with frustration, the words he had been holding back all evening finally spilling out.

“I know,” you whispered. “I know it’s hard, but we have each other. You’re doing great, Rafe.”

He squeezed you tighter, his chin resting on your head. "I’m trying. I really am. But I want him to see you the way I do. To know how much I care about you and our baby."

You kissed him softly on the cheek. "He will. It just might take some time."

Rafe’s voice wavered slightly. "I don’t want you to feel like you’re not welcome here. I never wanted you to feel that way."

“I don’t, Rafe. But I know it’s not easy for you. I can see how much it hurts.” You pulled back slightly to look into his eyes. "But I’m with you, okay? I’ve got you."

He swallowed hard, looking away for a moment, trying to fight back the vulnerability that crept into his expression. “I’m sorry if I’ve made things harder. I just wanted this Christmas to be perfect. I wanted you to feel like part of the family."

You cupped his face gently, making him meet your gaze again. "I do feel like part of the family. But don’t carry all the weight of this alone. We’re in this together."

Just then, Rose appeared in the doorway, her expression soft as she observed the two of you. She stepped closer, her voice quieter but warm. "I think Ward just needs some time, Rafe. He’s not always good at showing it, but he does care. I’ve seen it."

Rafe looked up at her, a mixture of frustration and hope in his eyes. "But he can’t just pretend everything’s fine, Rose. He can’t act like he’s okay with all of this."

Rose sat down beside you both, offering a reassuring smile. "No, but that doesn’t mean he won’t come around. Your dad’s a work in progress. It’ll take time, but he does love you, Rafe. And he’ll love your child. He just… doesn’t know how to show it yet."

Rafe nodded, but you could see the lingering doubt in his eyes. You reached over and squeezed his hand.

"You’re doing everything right, Rafe. And we’re here with you. This is our family now, and we’re going to be just fine."

The fire crackled softly in the background as the three of you sat in quiet reflection. Rafe was still tense, but he seemed comforted by the support from Rose and you. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the house and the love you shared, the weight of the world didn’t feel so heavy.

Rafe shifted slightly, his hand still resting on yours. The warmth of his touch was grounding, and the way he leaned into you, seeking comfort, spoke volumes about the weight he was carrying.

He had always been the one to shield others, to put up a tough front, but in moments like these, you could see the cracks. He was human, vulnerable, and trying to balance his love for you with the expectations of his family.

Rose smiled gently, understanding the quiet, unspoken bond between you two. “You know,” she began softly, breaking the silence, “Rafe’s always been the stubborn one, but underneath all of that, he’s got the biggest heart. He’ll figure this out. And so will Ward, in his own way.”

You nodded, grateful for Rose’s comforting words. She had always been the pillar of calm in the family, the one who could offer perspective when everything felt chaotic. You had no doubt that she was right. It would take time, but Rafe’s family would come to see the depth of his love for you and the baby.

Rafe sighed, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “I just want everyone to be happy. To feel like this is right. I don’t want you to feel out of place. And the last thing I want is for you to feel like you’re not welcome here, especially during Christmas.”

You reached over and cupped his face, lifting his chin so that his eyes met yours. “Rafe, I don’t feel out of place. You’ve made me feel more at home than anyone ever has. I’m just as nervous as you are about all of this, but I trust you, and I trust us. We’ve got this.”

He leaned into your touch, his forehead resting gently against yours. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he whispered, his voice low and raw.

Before you could respond, the sound of footsteps approaching interrupted the quiet moment. Sarah entered the room, her eyes lighting up when she saw you and Rafe. “Hey, I think dessert’s almost ready, and Rose’s calling us to get the rest of the food on the table.”

Rafe gave her a small nod, his hand still resting protectively on your belly. “Thanks, Sarah. We’ll be there in a second.”

She looked between the two of you, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Don’t stay in here all night, you two. I’m sure you have plenty of other family to see, too.”

Rafe laughed softly, standing up and offering his hand to you. “You heard her,” he said with a grin. “Let’s go have dessert with the family.”

As you got to your feet, you took a deep breath. Despite the underlying tension, there was a soft warmth settling in your chest. The holiday season had a way of making everything feel a little brighter, even in the midst of uncertainty.

You walked into the dining room, where everyone was gathered around the table, chatting and laughing.

You felt a shift in the air as you entered, a subtle change, but one that made you feel like you belonged. You could sense that Rafe’s family was trying, in their own way, to make you feel included. Ward still hadn’t spoken much, but you could see the faintest flicker of acceptance in his eyes as you sat down beside Rafe.

The night wore on, filled with light conversation and the warmth of shared moments. While the tension hadn’t fully dissolved, you couldn’t help but feel hopeful. Rafe was right there with you, his hand gently resting on your knee beneath the table, offering quiet support whenever you needed it.

As dessert was served, Sarah leaned over to you with a mischievous grin. “So, any ideas for baby names yet?”

You laughed softly, turning to Rafe, who immediately raised an eyebrow. “We’ve talked about it,” you said, trying to hide your smile, “but nothing’s set in stone yet.”

Sarah smirked, teasing you both. “Well, you have to tell me when you’ve decided. I’m going to be the best aunt ever.”

Wheezie piped up from the other side of the table. “I want to help pick the name!”

You chuckled, your heart swelling with affection for the little girl. “We’ll definitely need your help, Wheezie. Don’t worry.”

The evening carried on with laughter and chatter, the tension gradually dissolving as the night wore on. Rafe’s hand remained in yours, and you knew that, despite the obstacles ahead, this—this love and connection—was something worth fighting for.

When the time came to leave, you stood up, feeling the weight of the evening settle on you. You looked over at Rafe, who had been quieter than usual but seemed at ease in your presence. “Ready to go?” you asked softly.

He smiled, his hand gently rubbing your lower back. “Yeah. I’m ready. Let’s go home.”

As you left the warmth of his family’s house and stepped into the crisp night air, Rafe pulled you close, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “No matter what happens, you and our baby will always be my priority. I’ll make sure we’re okay.”

You smiled, your heart full. “I know, Rafe. And I’ll always be by your side.”

Together, you walked through the snow, the quiet of the night surrounding you, and the promise of your future together ahead.

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 : @gemzyy @e

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@estellesdoll

[fredswrite]

SUMMARY: When you finaly have a break from the christmas festivities, your husband and you find the time to watch the stars like you used too.

A/N: This is a little late, but I went back to my grandparents' house this Christmas, me and my cousins met again after years without seeing each other it was so nice. We went outside and went sledding like little kids at night, it was so pretty and made me write this hehe

WC: 1.1k

WARNING: A bunch of fluff, mention of sexual content, not smut but almost.

MLST

STARGAZING

Anakin and you always had this habit of watching the winter stars together, but when you had the twins, you couldn't find the time to do it anymore. In five years, Luke and Leia couldn't be left alone in the snow without it turning into a snowball fight or someone getting hurt.

And this year Christmas night wasn't an exception. You, Leia and Padmé sat alongside each other on the couch while Anakin, Obi-Wan and Satine were in the chairs in front. Luke, as usual, sat in the lap of his grandmother Shmi. Ashoka and Rex were doing a karaoke in front of the TV screen. Present wrapped and bags torn apart by the children everywhere.

The twins were smiling happily with their new toys as you laughed about Obi-Wan's joke. You looked at your husband, admiring his beautiful aging features. You haven't had some time along is so long, yet you were on holiday break, you should be able to take a break from everything.

Padmé noticed your look, whispering something in your ears. "You should go take some time for yourself. Don't worry about the kids for once."

You smiled at her, unsure if you should stop worrying for once. But that look in her eyes was enough to convince you. You stood up from your seat, gaining the gazes of others.

"I'm gonna go outside for a while, to look at the stars." Luke's eyes instantly turned to you, his love for astronomy showing. "Alone." You added in a chuckle.

You put on your boots and grab your coat, gloves, torque and scarf. You opened the door to your backyard balcony, breathing in the soft scent of the snow. The two plastic chairs were covered in snow as you brushed it away with your sleeve.

The stars lighted the dark sky as you gazed about the constellations you could never remember the name of. The music of the house was already a distant plea for festivities. All it missed was your husband.

Like a Christmas wish, the door slides open to reveal Anakin in his all-black winter suit. He smiled when he saw you and took the seat next to yours. "Hey babe." He gave a kiss to your forehead, yanking your chair closer to him with a single motion.

"Hey, honey." You replied with a chuckle. "You finally escaped the kids?" His hand fell behind your shoulders to hold you.

"Padmé convinced them to play some board game." He laughed as you let your head fall to his lap, looking at the stars in the sky.

"I wish her luck."

God, he loved it when you laughed like that. You were his whole life, his light in the darkness, his heart. All he could ever wish for was your love, and who wouldn't when they got an angel laughing in their lap?

"She loves them." He replied with a chuckle. "What were you doing out here?"

"I was watching the stars like we used to." You murmured, looking at what you remember was the centaur. "Luke got that from you."

"That's the great bear over here." He pointed towards another spot in the sky. His eyes glowed when he talked about his passion. You listened to him rent about the Greek signification of every star. Nothing could ever compare to stargazing with him.

But at some point you stopped listening to him, just staring at his beautiful features. His lips moved as he spoke, his smile curving on his cheeks. His large hand stocked your hair away from your face. "And that's-"

He couldn't finish his sentence, that you cut him off. "I love you." And he smirked even more.

"I love you too baby." He pulled you upwards in his lap by the hips. He grabbed your thigh, stroking the fabric of your pants with his gloves. His lips carefully approached your own as your fingers moved around his jaw.

When he finally reached you, you gently moved around his thigh, kissing him with such passion. His tongue explored your mouth like a starved man. You hoped the kids were well-occupied inside the house and would not share glances outside.

It may have been cold outside, but that didn't stop you from unzipping Anakin's coat as you took your gloves off. Your hand slipped under his coat to his sweater, one that Leia picked out. It was a green and red one where we could read Girl Dad. You had the same one for Luke.

His hand on your legs moved to hold the flesh in your ass. You chuckled on his lips, your freezing finger tracing the curve of his abs. Even with the multiple layers of clothing, you felt his bulge growing on you.

"Such a tease..." He whispered, his kisses going to your neck. "If the kids weren't here I swear I'd get you pregnant again right now." He groaned as he bite on your pulse point, pressing the top of your coat out of the way.

"Anakin..." His name left your mouth like a prayer. You always liked the thought of having another child.

"Yeah? You'd like that? Being all swollen with my baby... so kriffing hot."

And it was at that instant that you saw your children putting on their snowsuits, with the help of Shmi and Rex, on the other side of the tinted door. "Shit.." You said to your husband, but your sound was understood as something else.

"Baby..."

"No Anakin, you patted his chest and reluctantly pulled away, they're coming."

He looked behind him and noticed the little figure approaching the balcony. He quickly fixed you on the chair, gave you your glove and zipped his coat up his nose.

Leia opened the door and rushed in your arms as you chuckled at the still visible tent in his pants. Luke walked to his dad asking more about the stars. You and Anakin looked at each other, a playful smirk on your faces.

"Merry Christmas honey." He told you with a kiss that was interrupted by Leia's little hand and her sound of disgust.

[w1shfullthink1ng]

MESSY MORNING MAKEOUTS

nika mühl x fem!reader

DESCRIPTION/ lazy mornings with nika turn into messy kisses

WARNINGS/ none! just fluff

LAZY LAZY MORNINGS…Nika has been gone for a few days for her away games. She got home last night understandably exhausted she flopped into bed with you almost immediately falling asleep.

The light from the early sunshine shines through the window illuminating the room, cascading on your face waking you up gently. You find yourself entangled with nika watching her stir up as you move some hair out of her face. “Good morning my love” she spoke gently her voice a little hoarse from just waking up. You smiled softly “Moring baby” she kisses you softly “I missed you while I was gone..missed your pretty face, soft lips” “I missed you too pretty girl” you kiss her softly. She peppers kisses all over your face earning a laugh from you.

“I love you” she whispers in your ear placing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you too nika”. She smiled like she was so sickly in love she was. She had the kinda look on her face that made you feel like you where the only girl in the world. She cups your face admiring your pretty features. “I always thought you where the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen” requiem for a dream reference!!. She kisses you like it would be the last time she ever could.

You resiprocate enjoying the feeling of the quiet intimacy that the early morning brings. It was like the world went quiet for a moment and it was just you two. The kisses started to get a little more needy as nika slides her tongue in your mouth with a soft hum. There was no fight for dominance it was equality of love, just going with the flow of it, not wanting anything more or anything less. Y’all’s tongues danced together in sync making the moment perfect.

Nika pulls away gently a string of saliva still attaching the two of you. She presses kisses down your jaw & neck, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. “you’re so beautiful” “so perfect for me” “I love you so much”. Your hands are in her hair playing with the silky strands as she adored you. She left little marks on your neck. You cup her face she looks at you her eyes in a daze of love as you pull her back in for another kiss.

A/N kinda short but I thought this was so cutie patootie.

love you always, thanks for reading

wish signing off🪽

[sapphicideas]

Do you like insecure girls?

i love them. i love reminding them how beautiful they are, even when they don't quite see it.

perfection is boring, and i don't want it. i want your silly little tantrums, your stretch marks and that one tiny detail on your face that you wish you could change.

i love all of you, and i wish i could press soft forehead kisses on you while we cuddle. just now that if i had the chance, i'd take care of you, no matter what.

[futuraa-free]

RED.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Reader

Summary: Old and new Christmas traditions, plus some things lost to time.

Rating: E

Word Count: 547

Content Warnings: holiday fluff (with a little bit of blues), established relationships, no description of reader

Notes: Merry Christmas! @ghotifishreads 🎄✨ this is your secret santa speaking! happy holidays, honey! ❤️ I wanted to be able to deliver something a bit more special, but i’ve been so busy with life this was all I could do! I hope u love it ❤️

Thank you so much to @sp00kymulderr for being the best and organizing the gift exchange for our @dieterbravobrainrotclub 💓💓

Dividers by @saradika-graphics ❤️

His hair started greying as he was turning thirty, right as autumn was going into winter, just a smattering of it around his temples, only a few of strands unnoticeable to people’s eyes.

Today, around twenty years and many more greys later, they twinkle under the lights, taking the same gold tones of the Christmas tree they’d made together a few hours before.

He shoved himself under it in the hope of reliving the childhood memory of looking at the lights while laying on the floor, the one moment where as a young boy he would follow their comforting pattern void of any worry.

“Come here” he says sticking out his hand, the tips of his fingers calling you over with urgency.

He doesn’t need to look to know that his plea will be answered, the noise of your steps and the warm body next to his a few seconds later bringing a smile to his face.

“Hi”

“Hi”

“What are you doing here?” you ask, cold hand from the outside air touching his cheek

“I thought the lights were pretty” the answer is a little too evasive, he knows you know it too, during the few months you’ve been together he’s come to understand that you could redraw the ridges and creases on the palm of his hand with your eyes closed, that he can hide no piece of himself to you.

“Okay, any particular reason you’re doing this?”

“I used to do it every year when i was a kid, made it into my own tradition until there was no space for me to fit under the tree” it’s a fond memory looking back, he wishes he had kept up with it, that most things he knew from childhood hadn’t gotten lost to the choices he made as an adult.

“Good thing I insisted we get the biggest tree then” you shuffle closer, the weight of your body soft against him.

“Nostalgia caught up to me and all I can only think of is everything I lost by becoming an adult” he says, turning his face into yours, the tip of his nose right against your cheek “I think I’m grieving something I didn’t know I had”

You meet his nose with yours, mouths only a breath away “You know how I fight that feeling?” he shakes his head, too dazed to say anything.

“By making new memories” a kiss on the forehead, “Tell me what you want to do for the holidays and all the years to come we’ll do the same” a kiss on his nose “Until we’re old and all we have is the traditions we’ve made for ourselves” one on the chin, then your hands between his hair soothing away his blues.

His eyes are glittering the same color of the lights now, its own pools of warm gold, he nods moving closer to you “Okay” there’s a mischievous smile playing on his lips “I want to kiss you under the mistletoe”

You smile “I don’t think this is mistletoe, my love” amusement coloring your voice

“It’s okay we’re making our own traditions” and with a kiss you seal the promise that if time must turn you will gently steer its wheel, unmoored by getting pieces of yourselves lost to it.