#its technically christmas eve here but

[catkettle]

merry christmas and happy holidays :)

[jupiterpilgrim]

Embracing the Mission

Christmas Special 🎄

Julie x Natty x Belle x Male Reader

word count 14K

A/n: last fic of the Christmas Special

Christmas Eve. Quiet, solemn, lonely. The kind of night where you can’t decide if you’re grateful for the silence or crushed beneath its weight. You drag yourself up the stairs, the old wood creaking under your feet. The dull glow of Christmas lights spills from the living room, blinking in patterns that feel more mocking than festive. You’ve always been a good guy, the dependable one, the “nice” one, but here you are, one stocking hung, one bed waiting for nobody but yourself.

At the top of the stairs, just as your hand brushes the railing, the doorbell rings.

You freeze.

Who the hell rings a doorbell on Christmas Eve this late? Solicitors don’t work tonight, and your neighbors barely talk to you during daylight hours. For a long moment, you consider ignoring it. Then it rings again—insistent, cheery.

You shuffle back down, mumbling under your breath about late-night pranks and cold drafts. Pulling the door open, you’re met with a sight that doesn’t just stop your breath; it slams it into reverse.

Two girls stand on your porch. They’re stunning in a way that should be illegal. The first one has curves so generous they practically defy gravity, her chest straining against a red and green corset that looks stitched from mischief itself. Her long, dark hair frames a face you could mistake for angelic if not for the sly twinkle in her eyes.

“Hi! I’m Natty!” she says brightly, as if this is the most normal introduction in the world.

Beside her, the other one radiates an entirely different energy: poised, commanding, her toned body wrapped in something close to a uniform, sharp lines of green velvet hugging her hips. Her dark brown hair glints in the soft light, and the arch of her brow suggests she’s used to being in charge.

“I’m Julie,” she says, her voice smoother, more measured. Then, in perfect unison, they chirp:

“And we need your help!”

You blink. Then you blink again. “Uh…”

“Wait, where’s Belle?” Julie cuts you off, her brow furrowing as she scans the space behind you.

“Typical,” Natty groans, folding her arms beneath her chest, which only makes the situation more distracting. “Always late.”

Before you can process any of this, a loud thunk echoes from inside your house, followed by a flurry of soot and a muffled cough. Spinning around, you see something—a someone—sprawled across your fireplace hearth.

“What the hell—”

The girl clambers to her feet, brushing coal dust off a mess of blonde hair. She's the same height as that other girl, Julie. With delicate features and wide, apologetic dark eyes that suggest she’s either innocent or very good at faking it. She’s wearing a short red dress streaked with ash, and she’s scowling as if this is somehow your fault.

“Belle!” Natty snaps. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You said to come in sneaky!” Belle protests, hands on her hips. “The chimney’s sneaky!”

“Not that sneaky, dumbass,” Julie groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Even Santa Claus doesn’t actually use chimneys. That’s a marketing thing.”

“You said stealth!” Belle shoots back, still smudged with coal and radiating indignation. “Stealth means unconventional entry points! It’s basic infiltration tactics!”

“I swear, I’m going to—” Natty starts, but Julie waves her off, taking a deep breath.

“Let’s just… move on. The whole night’s a disaster already.”

With that, they sweep past you and invade your home.

“Okay, hold up,” you interrupt, raising your hands. “Who are you people, and why are you in my house?!”

Julie turns her piercing gaze on you, suddenly all business. “We’re Santa’s elves.”

You stare. They stare back.

“…Elves,” you repeat.

“Uh-huh,” Natty confirms, nodding so enthusiastically that her chest threatens to break free of its corset.

Belle perks up. “Yeah! We work at the North Pole!” She pauses, then adds, “Well, usually. Technically, we’re on maternity leave before the fact.”

“Maternity leave?”

Julie steps forward, her voice low and commanding. “Look, I’ll cut to the chase. The birth rate in the North Pole is… concerningly low. Like, end-of-our-species low. We need help. Specifically, your help.”

“…My help,” you echo, your brain lagging behind the speed of this conversation.

Natty leans in, her lips quirking in a teasing smile. “We need you to get us pregnant.”

For a moment, the world tilts sideways. “Is this some kind of weird prank? Am I being filmed?”

“It sounds fake, doesn’t it?” Belle says, skipping over to you with a little bounce in her step. “But it’s totally true! Look—” She grabs your hand and drags it toward her head.

“Whoa, what are you—”

“Feel my ear!”

You hesitate, then give in, tugging lightly at one of her pointy ears. It’s soft, warm, pliant, and very much attached to her skull.

“Ow!” she yelps, batting your hand away. “What are you, a sadist?”

“They’re real,” you whisper, finally starting to believe them.

“Duh,” Natty says with a smirk. “So? You in?”

Your laugh comes out half-hysterical. “You think I’m just going to say yes to… to that?!”

Julie crosses her arms, tilting her head. “Why wouldn’t you? You’ve always been a good boy. Generous, kind, single…”

“That’s why I’m single!” you snap, throwing your hands in the air. “I don’t go around impregnating random women—elf women—on Christmas!”

“See?” Belle chimes in. “He is perfect. I told you.”

You groan, running a hand down your face. “This can’t be happening.”

“It’s happening,” Natty says, stepping closer. Her scent—cinnamon and something sweeter—fills your lungs, and suddenly the room feels ten degrees hotter.

Julie’s voice softens, almost coaxing. “All we’re asking is that you help save a species. A race. Think of it as… the ultimate Christmas gift.”

Belle pipes up, already raiding your kitchen. “If you'll excuse me, I'm hungry!”

Natty plops herself onto your couch like she owns the place, her corset straining as she lounges back, legs crossed. Belle's rifling through your fridge now, pulling out milk like this is her second home, while Julie perches herself neatly on the armrest of the chair across from you, her hands clasped like she’s about to break into a corporate PowerPoint presentation.

Julie clears her throat. “All right, let’s break this down. The North Pole is in crisis.”

“Oh, no,” you deadpan, flopping into the recliner. “Is Mrs. Claus filing for divorce? Did Santa get caught in a Ponzi scheme?”

Belle laughs from the kitchen, milk mustache and all. Natty, meanwhile, grins. “Ooh, I like him. He’s got jokes.”

“Let’s stay focused,” Julie says sharply, shooting a glare at both of them before turning back to you. “It’s not a joke. The population at the Pole is dwindling. Our fertility rates have been tanking for decades.”

“Have you ever considered having sex with other elves?” you ask

“Ha,” Julie deadpans. “No. It’s a genetic bottleneck problem. Too much inbreeding, not enough diversity.”

“Oh, God,” you groan, throwing your head back. “Am I about to be roped into a weird elf eugenics experiment? I didn’t sign up for this.”

Natty leans forward, her cleavage doing distracting things that seem entirely intentional. “You’re not roped into anything, sweetheart. But let’s just say you’ve been on the Nice List for decades. That’s not common. We figured, hey, why not pick someone who’s already a certified good boy?”

Belle chimes in from the kitchen, still munching on what might be your last box of Oreos. “And it’s not like you’ve got any plans tonight, right?”

You glare at her. “I could’ve had plans.”

“With who?” she shoots back, raising an eyebrow as she holds up a half-eaten cookie. “These? Didn’t think so.”

Julie rubs her temples like she’s dealing with toddlers. “The point is, the North Pole relies on elves to keep everything running smoothly. Toy production, reindeer care, Santa’s logistics—”

“—the strip club down on Candy Cane Lane—” Natty interjects with a wink.

Julie doesn’t miss a beat. “—all of it requires a stable population. We’re dangerously low. If we don’t start producing new elves, the entire system collapses.”

“Okay, but why me?” you ask, gesturing at yourself like there must be some mistake. “There’s eight billion people on the planet. You couldn’t have found someone… better qualified?”

Natty shrugs. “Most people don’t qualify for the Nice List. And a lot of the ones who do are, like, seven years old.”

“Or old ladies who bake cookies for their neighbors,” Belle adds.

“And you’re… what? Prime reproductive age? Decent genetics? Plus, you live alone, so no messy drama with spouses or girlfriends. Frankly, you’re the perfect candidate,” Julie finishes matter-of-factly.

You snort. “Wow, thanks. Nothing boosts a guy’s ego like being told he’s a walking sperm donor with no social life.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short,” Natty says, standing up and sauntering over to you. She plants her hands on either side of your chair, leaning down until her face is inches from yours. “You’re also cute.”

Your brain short-circuits for a second before you manage to sputter, “Girls, this is crazy. It sounds like something out of an erotic fiction written by a sick mind.”

“It’s practical,” Julie counters. “We’re not asking you to marry us. We’re asking for your… genetic material. Through, uh, direct methods.”

“Oh, is that all?” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Sure, let me just whip out my North Pole application and put ‘elf breeding kink’ under special skills.”

Belle wanders over now, plopping onto the couch and curling her legs beneath her. “Look, it’s not like you’re doing it for free. Think of it as an exclusive, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You get to help save Christmas and have sex with three hot elves. Win-win, right? It's not that difficult, elves are very, very fertile.”

Natty grins, her lips brushing dangerously close to your ear as she whispers, “Bet no one’s ever left that off their bucket list.”

You shove her away gently, shaking your head. “You’re all insane. I should call the cops.”

“Oh, please,” Belle scoffs. “What’re you gonna say? ‘Help, three elves broke into my house and asked me to impregnate them’? You’d be on YouTube before the night’s over.”

“Wait, do elves also watch YouTube?”

Julie sighs, standing up and dusting off her hands. “Listen, we’ll give you some time to think about it. But let’s be clear—this isn’t just about us. It’s about every elf, every reindeer, every child who wakes up on Christmas morning hoping for magic.”

"Be mindful, this could be a total game-changer!” Belle exclaims. “Imagine if other elves join us, we'd have the numbers to make the North Pole council change their rules. Interracial babies for everyone! It would be legendary!” She's clearly excited about the idea.

“That’s a lot of pressure,” you mutter.

Natty strokes your arm, her smile equal parts playful and predatory. “You’ll rise to the occasion. I can feel it.”

Belle snickers. “Or we’ll make you.”

—

You shut your bedroom door, leaning against it like it might keep the insanity out. Your room feels smaller, tighter, like the walls are closing in on you. You sink onto the edge of the bed, staring at your hands, the events of the last hour replaying in loops too ridiculous to comprehend.

Three elves. Pregnant. By you.

You look at the glow-in-the-dark clock on your wall, its numbers mocking you. Midnight, Christmas Day. The kind of moment that should be filled with a warm cup of cocoa, maybe a silly Christmas movie in the background. Instead, you’re debating whether to turn your house into the world’s weirdest fertility clinic.

You groan, dragging your hands through your hair. It’s not like you’re against the idea. They’re beautiful—beyond beautiful—but this isn’t just some quick hookup. They’re asking for something bigger. Permanent. And yeah, it’d be easy to chalk it up to a crazy story you tell yourself later, but you can’t stop thinking about what it would mean.

Kids. Real, flesh-and-blood kids. Yours.

You’ve spent enough Christmases alone to know how heavy the quiet can get. It’s not the sex you’re hesitating about—it’s what comes after. You can’t just pump and dump (so to speak). That’s not who you are.

A burst of laughter from the living room pulls you out of your spiral. You push yourself off the bed and head to the door. Whatever decision you make, it’s better than sitting here stewing in your own head.

When you step back into the living room, they’re sprawled across your couch like they’ve lived here for years. The TV’s on, tuned to some Christmas classic, though the sound’s muted. Natty’s flipping through your Blu-ray collection, shaking her head at your lack of romantic comedies. Belle’s halfway through a bag of chips you’re pretty sure you were saving for New Year’s.

“You know, those were mine,” you say, pointing at the chips.

She grins, cheeks puffed out like a squirrel. “Finders, eaters.”

Julie barely glances up from where she’s scrolling on your phone. “So? Have you come to your senses?”

You take a deep breath, stepping further into the room. “I’ve made my decision.”

The room goes still. Belle pauses mid-chew. Natty freezes with a DVD case in hand. Julie sits up straighter, her eyes locked on you like a hawk.

“I’ll do it,” you say. “On one condition.”

Natty perks up immediately. “Name it, stud.”

“I want to see the kids.”

The room practically tilts sideways with the weight of their confusion.

Julie narrows her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t want to just… make them and never see them again,” you explain, running a hand over the back of your neck. “If we’re doing this, I want to be part of their lives. I want to know them. I want to have a family.”

They all stare at you like you just grew a second head. Even Belle, who has been entirely food-focused until now, sets the chips down to gape at you.

Julie is the first to recover, though her tone is softer now. “Why? That wasn’t part of the deal. You’d be doing your… civic duty, so to speak. Why do you care what happens after?”

You shrug, shoving your hands in your pockets. “Because I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering if I made a mistake. I don’t want to be a ghost in their lives. Hell, I don’t even have anyone now, let alone a family. Maybe this is my chance.”

That last part slips out before you can stop it, and you immediately regret how vulnerable it sounds.

The elves exchange glances. Natty bites her lip, Julie furrows her brow, and Belle just looks vaguely guilty. Without a word, they huddle together in the corner, whispering furiously.

“Oh, come on, you’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?” you call out, gesturing to their huddle.

“Shh!” Natty waves a dismissive hand at you, her voice muffled. “We’re deliberating.”

Belle glances back at you once, her lips twitching like she might smile. Julie smacks her on the arm, dragging her back into their huddle.

After what feels like an eternity, they break apart, turning to face you with synchronized seriousness. Julie steps forward as the spokesperson.

“Alright. We’ll allow it.”

“Allow it?” you echo, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” she continues, ignoring your tone. “It’s unconventional, but you’ve proven yourself to be… an exceptionally good boy.”

Natty snickers. “You’re, like, too good. It’s almost weird.”

Belle beams. “It’s sweet!”

You exhale, relief flooding through you. “Okay, good. Then we’re all on the same page.”

Julie smirks, tilting her head toward the hallway. “We are. Now, let’s get started.”

Before you can process her words, Natty grabs one hand, Julie takes the other, and they start tugging you toward the bedroom.

“Wait, right now?” you stammer, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest.

“Uh, yeah,” Natty says, throwing a playful wink over her shoulder. “You’re not getting out of this, Mister Family Man.”

Belle trails behind, licking chip dust off her fingers as she grins, a new bag in the other hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll wait my turn. I’m still eating.”

The door to your bedroom looms closer, and for the first time all night, you realize you might actually be in over your head.

—

The bedroom feels both foreign and familiar, lit softly by the glow of Christmas lights strung around the window. Julie and Natty waste no time, their hands still locked around yours as they pull you toward the bed, their intentions as clear as the sly smiles on their faces. Your heart hammers in your chest as the door clicks shut behind Belle, her footsteps slow and casual.

Natty is the first to spin around, her dark eyes glinting with mischief as she steps in close, the scent of peppermint and something deeper, muskier, teasing your senses. Julie mirrors her movements, sliding behind you with a grace that’s almost predatory, her hands grazing your shoulders.

You’re caught between them, their bodies pressed against you—soft and warm in all the right places. Julie’s lips ghost over your ear, her voice a low purr. “You’re nervous. Don’t be. We’ll make this… unforgettable.”

Natty chuckles, her hands already slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. “Oh, he’s already enchanted. Look at him.”

And she’s not wrong. Your gaze flickers to her pointed ears, impossibly cute, twitching slightly as she speaks. You can’t help yourself; your hand lifts, fingers brushing the curve of one. She gasps softly, her body trembling against you.

“Sensitive, huh?” you murmur, surprised by your own boldness.

Natty smirks, leaning into your touch. “You’ve got no idea.”

Julie’s hands are more decisive, sliding down your chest as Natty tugs your shirt up and over your head, leaving you bare to the room’s cool air. Her nails drag lightly across your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Behind you, Julie’s fingers work at your belt, a faint laugh escaping her lips as she feels the bulge already straining against your jeans. “Well, someone’s eager.”

“You’re the ones who dragged me in here,” you shoot back, though your voice is breathless.

Natty steps back, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath as her fingers move to the laces of her corset. She catches your gaze, a teasing smile curving her lips as she deliberately slows, each pull on the strings heightening the anticipation. Bit by bit, the tension gives way, and her ample cleavage begins to spill over, the fabric struggling to contain her.

With a final tug, the corset slackens, and she slides it down her torso, her movements fluid, almost hypnotic. The garment falls away, revealing the smooth, unblemished plane of her skin, glowing in the dim light. Her breasts, full and impossibly perfect, sway slightly with her motion, their weight almost defying reason, nipples already stiffened peaks begging for attention.

Natty doesn’t stop there. Her hands travel lower, unfastening her skirt and letting it pool at her feet. She steps out of it, the shift leaving her in only a pair of thin, lacy panties clinging to her hips. Her fingers hook into the waistband, and she peels them down inch by inch, the reveal torturously slow until the fabric slides off completely, leaving her bare.

She stands there unabashed, her toned figure on full display, the curves of her hips leading to the bare mound of her pussy, glistening slightly in the light. She tosses the corset aside with a devilish grin, her eyes locking onto yours.

“Like what you see?” she teases, palming her own chest and giving it a little bounce.

Before you can answer, Julie tugs your pants and underwear down in one swift motion, leaving your cock springing free, hard and ready. She hums appreciatively, her sharp eyes glinting as she reaches out to grip it lightly, her fingers warm and confident.

Belle, meanwhile, has claimed the armchair in the corner, Opening the new bag of chips. She crosses her legs, leaning back like she’s settling in for a show.

“Don’t mind me,” she says, her voice light and amused. “I’m just here for moral support.”

“More like immoral support,” Natty quips, stepping out of the rest of her clothes to reveal curves that could have been sculpted by a god. Her hips sway as she moves closer, and you can’t help but stare, utterly captivated.

You sit on your bed, Julie begins to unbutton the top of her elven uniform, sensually removing the velvet from her skin, The red lingerie reveals her medium-sized, round and perfectly formed breasts that, combined with her smooth skin, leave you almost drooling. She slides down to her knees in front of you, her dark brown hair pooling around her shoulders as she gazes up at you with a wicked grin. “All right, let’s set some ground rules.”

“Ground rules?” you echo, your brain barely functioning under the weight of what’s happening.

“I’m going first,” she says simply, her hand stroking your length with slow, deliberate precision. “I’ll be the first one pregnant. But first…” Her tongue darts out, licking her lips. “We’ve gotta get you nice and ready.”

Natty giggles, pressing herself against your side, her breasts warm and soft against your arm. “Oh, he’s ready. Look at him.”

Julie doesn’t respond, too focused as she leans in, her tongue tracing a line along the underside of your cock. The sensation sends a shiver racing up your spine, and you grip the edge of the bed for support.

“Jesus,” you breathe, your head falling back.

“Not quite,” Julie murmurs, her lips wrapping around the tip.

Her mouth is warm, wet, and devastatingly skilled as she takes you deeper, her tongue swirling in maddening patterns. Natty watches with a smirk, her fingers trailing down your chest, her nails scraping lightly against your skin.

Belle’s voice drifts over from the chair, smug and teasing. “Damn, Julie. Save some for the rest of us.”

Julie pulls back just enough to speak, her breath hot against your slick length. “Patience, Belle. You’ll get your turn.”

Natty leans in, her lips brushing against your jaw as she whispers, “She likes to make a mess. You should see her when she’s serious.”

You groan, caught between the relentless heat of Julie’s mouth and the soft press of Natty’s body against yours.

Julie doesn’t waste a second. She tightens her grip at the base of your cock, guiding it back between her lips with the kind of confidence that only comes from experience—or maybe instinct. Her mouth is pure heaven: warm, wet, and impossibly tight as she takes you deeper, her cheeks hollowing with every movement.

The sight of her on her knees, her brown dark hair falling around her flushed face, has you twitching in her mouth, and she hums in approval, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure straight through you. Her eyes flick up to meet yours, dark and mischievous, as her tongue swirls around your head before she dives lower, taking you all the way in until your cock is brushing the back of her throat.

“Fuck, Julie,” you groan, your hips jerking forward instinctively.

Natty laughs softly from beside you, her full, bare breasts pressed against your arm as she leans in. “She’s a pro, isn’t she? Makes you wonder what other surprises she’s hiding.”

Her voice drips with teasing warmth, and you turn your head, unable to resist the lure of her body. Her tits are huge—soft and heavy, nipples stiff and begging for attention. You cup one in your hand, marveling at the weight of it, and she shivers, biting her lip.

“Don’t be shy,” she murmurs, pushing herself closer. “I’ve got plenty to keep you busy.”

Your mouth finds her nipple, hot and eager, and she gasps, her fingers tangling in your hair as you suck gently, your tongue flicking against the sensitive peak. Her skin is soft and smooth under your lips, and you move to her other breast, giving it the same attention as her moans grow louder.

Meanwhile, Julie’s pace is relentless, her head bobbing as she works your cock with a combination of tongue, lips, and sheer determination. The obscene sounds of her mouth—wet, messy, and utterly filthy—fill the room, mingling with Natty’s soft cries and the distant hum of Christmas lights.

Belle, still perched in the chair with her snacks, snorts. “Damn, Julie, you trying to drown him? I can hear that slurping from here.”

Julie pulls back just enough to shoot Belle a look, her lips glistening with spit. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you’d do something useful for once.”

Belle grins, taking a lazy sip of her milk. “I am doing something. I’m observing. Documenting this historic moment. You’re welcome.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Julie mutters before turning her focus back to you.

She grips your cock tighter, her other hand cupping your balls as her mouth slides down again, taking you even deeper this time. The wet heat of her throat surrounds you, and you can’t stop the groan that tears from your chest, your hips bucking slightly.

“Careful,” Natty teases, her voice breathy as you switch back to her other nipple, sucking harder this time. “You don’t want to choke her. She’s got a small throat.”

Julie glares up at her, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she doubles down, her movements faster, rougher, as if to prove a point. The slick noises of her blowjob grow louder, lewd and shameless, and your legs tremble as she works you closer to the edge.

“Holy fuck,” you manage to gasp, your hand gripping her hair as she takes you all the way again, her lips flush against the base of your cock.

Belle claps mockingly from the chair. “Bravo! Give the girl a medal. Or maybe a towel. She’s making a mess.”

You glance down and see that she’s right—Julie’s chin is glistening with spit, and a thin line of drool drips from her mouth to the floor. She doesn’t care. If anything, she leans into it, her hands stroking you as she pulls back to catch her breath, a trail of saliva connecting her lips to your cock.

“God, you’re a mess,” you say, half-laughing, half-moan.

Julie wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, her grin wicked. “You fucking love it.”

And she’s not wrong.

Natty, watching from your side, lets out a low chuckle, her hands sliding down her own curves.

“You’re hogging all the fun,” Natty purrs, leaning forward, her full breasts pressing against your side. “Don’t you believe in sharing, Julie? It is Christmas.”

Julie raises an eyebrow, her tongue flicking out to lick a stray bead of spit from her lips. “Think you can keep up?”

Natty grins, already dropping to her knees beside Julie. “Try me.”

Your cock twitches at the sight of them kneeling together, their hair—a mix of raven-black and chestnut brown—falling around their faces like something out of a dirty dream. Natty’s hand joins Julie’s, her grip firm but teasing as she strokes you alongside her.

“Damn, you’re big,” Natty murmurs, her fingers wrapping around your shaft as she glances up at you. “Santa Claus really chose the right guy.”

Julie rolls her eyes but leans forward again, her lips brushing the tip of your cock as Natty keeps stroking. “Quit talking and get to work,” she mutters before taking you back into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks.

Natty doesn’t miss a beat. She leans in from the side, her tongue darting out to lick along your shaft, tracing every vein with slow, deliberate strokes. Her lips are soft and warm as they move lower, trailing down to your balls, and you nearly lose your balance as her mouth closes around one, sucking gently.

“Holy shit,” you groan, your head falling back as they work in perfect sync.

Julie pulls off with a wet pop, her lips curling into a smirk. “He likes that. Don’t stop, Natty.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” Natty replies, her voice muffled as she switches to your other ball, her tongue swirling in slow circles.

Julie takes you back into her mouth, bobbing her head with a steady rhythm that leaves you trembling. She takes you deeper this time, her throat tightening around your cock as she moves faster, her hand stroking what she can’t fit. Natty’s hands roam, one gripping your thigh while the other strokes the base of your shaft in time with Julie’s movements.

“You two are gonna kill me,” you manage to gasp, your hands tangling in their hair as pleasure courses through you.

Natty pulls back just enough to laugh, her lips shiny with spit. “Kill you? Baby, we’re just getting started.”

She leans up, her mouth joining Julie’s at the tip of your cock, their tongues meeting in a wet, messy kiss around you. The sight alone is almost enough to make you lose it—two gorgeous girls, their mouths working together, their spit mixing as they trade kisses and licks across your length.

“God, that’s hot,” Belle mutters from the armchair, her voice low and lazy. You glance over to see her lounging with one leg draped over the armrest. “I’d offer to join, but you two look like you’ve got it handled.”

Julie shoots her a glare without pulling her mouth away, her tongue swirling around your head before she pushes you deep again. Natty giggles, licking a long stripe up your shaft before wrapping her lips around the base, her hand stroking in tandem with Julie’s bobbing head.

The combination is overwhelming—Julie’s throat tightening around you, Natty’s tongue teasing every sensitive spot, their hands and mouths working together like they’ve done this a hundred times before. Your legs shake, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as they push you closer and closer to the edge.

You pull back, your cock slick with their spit, and both women look up at you in surprise, lips swollen, faces flushed.

“Stop,” you pant, your voice rough. “I need more. Julie—get on the bed.”

Julie’s lips curl into a slow, knowing smile. “Finally ready to stop playing around, huh?”

She stands gracefully, peeling off the scraps of her lingerie as she moves. Her body is toned and lithe, her skin gleaming in the soft glow of the Christmas lights outside, visible through the window. Her breasts are perky, her waist narrow, and when she turns to climb onto the bed, you can’t stop yourself from staring at her ass—big, perfectly round, the kind of ass that seems sculpted to be fucked.

Natty is already lying on her back, her legs spread wide, her glistening pussy on full display. She props herself up on her elbows, watching the two of you with a grin. “Oh, this is gonna be good. Don’t be shy, Julie. Show him how it’s done.”

Julie positions herself on all fours, her back arched and her cheeks raised in invitation. She glances over her shoulder, her dark eyes filled with challenge and anticipation. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

You don’t need to be told twice. Climbing onto the bed behind her, you grip her hips, your fingers digging into her soft, supple skin. Her pussy is already dripping, her arousal glistening in the light, and you drag the head of your cock along her folds, teasing her.

“Come on, shove it in my pussy,” she snaps, her voice sharp but laced with need.

“Patience,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss her lower back before pressing the tip of your cock against her entrance.

Julie growls softly, but her breath hitches as you push inside, the tight heat of her pussy clamping around you. She’s wet and snug, her walls pulsing as you slide deeper, and you have to grit your teeth to keep from losing it right there.

“Fuck, that’s good,” you groan, gripping her hips tighter as you bottom out, your cock buried to the hilt.

Julie’s head drops forward, her hands fisting in the sheets. “Mmm, yeah. Just like that. Don’t hold back.”

Natty’s laugh draws your attention, and you glance up to see her spreading herself wider, her fingers teasing her folds as she watches. “Don’t let her boss you around too much,” she teases. “She likes it rough. Don’t you, Julie?”

Julie doesn’t respond with words, just a guttural moan as you pull back and thrust into her again, harder this time. Her ass jiggles with the force, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Natty coos, her voice thick with arousal. She moves closer, her legs spreading even wider. “C’mere, Julie. You’ve got work to do.”

Julie doesn’t hesitate, leaning forward until her mouth is hovering over Natty’s dripping pussy. Her tongue flicks out, teasing the sensitive flesh, and Natty gasps, her hips bucking up toward Julie’s mouth.

“God, that’s good,” Natty moans, her fingers tangling in Julie’s hair.

The sight of Julie buried between Natty’s thighs, her ass raised high and rocking back against you, is enough to drive you insane. You grip her hips harder, your thrusts growing faster and rougher, each one making her moan louder into Natty’s pussy.

“Fuck, Julie,” you growl, your voice ragged. “You feel so fucking good.”

She hums in response, the vibrations making Natty cry out, her legs trembling as she grinds against Julie’s face.

“Don’t stop,” Natty gasps, her eyes fluttering shut. “God, you’re both so good.”

Julie’s moans are muffled by Natty’s pussy, but the way she clenches around your cock with every thrust tells you she’s just as lost in the moment as you are. You lean over her, one hand sliding up her back, your fingers tangling in her hair as you fuck her harder, the sound of your bodies colliding filling the air.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, your chest heaving.

Belle’s voice cuts through the haze from her perch in the corner. “I mean, if you two could make it any louder, that’d be great. I don’t think the neighbors heard you yet.”

“Shut up, Belle,” Julie snarls, her voice muffled by Natty’s folds.

Natty lets out a breathless laugh, her head falling back as she grinds against Julie’s tongue. “She’s got a point. You two are animals.”

You ignore them, too focused on the way Julie’s pussy grips you, the way her ass bounces with every thrust, the way Natty’s moans grow louder as Julie devours her. It’s raw, messy, and perfect, and you’re not sure how much longer you can hold out.

You’re buried deep inside Julie, her tight, wet pussy squeezing you like a vice with every thrust. Her big ass bounces against your hips, and you can’t help the low growl that escapes your throat. She’s good—too good—but there’s something you can’t shake, something you need to see.

Leaning over her, your voice comes out rough, ragged. “Julie… twerk on my cock.”

Julie freezes for half a second, her breath hitching. Then, to your surprise, Natty bursts out laughing from her spot beside you, where she’s still sprawled on the bed, her fingers teasing her swollen clit.

“Oh, you’re in for a treat,” Natty purrs, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Twerking’s her specialty. Go on, Julie. Show him what you’ve got.”

Julie glances back over her shoulder, her dark eyes glinting with a mix of challenge and amusement. “You think you can handle it?” she asks, her voice low and teasing.

“Try me,” you growl, your hands gripping her hips tighter.

She smirks, planting her palms firmly on the bed as she starts to move. Her hips roll first, slow and deliberate, before she begins to bounce, her ass clapping softly against your thighs. The sensation is unreal—her tight heat milking your cock as her ass jiggles in perfect rhythm, the wet sound of your connection filling the room.

“Holy fuck,” you mutter, your hands sliding down to grip her cheeks, spreading them wide as she works.

Natty props herself up on one elbow, watching with a wicked grin. “Told you. She’s got moves.”

Julie arches her back, her movements growing faster, more intense. She pushes back hard with every bounce, driving your cock deeper inside her, and the sight of her round, flawless ass slamming against you is enough to make your head spin.

“Like that?” she asks breathlessly, glancing back at you.

“Fuck yes,” you groan, raising one hand and bringing it down on her cheek with a sharp smack.

Julie moans, her hips jerking forward slightly before she slams back again, grinding herself against you. “Harder,” she demands, her voice dripping with lust.

You don’t need to be told twice. Your hand comes down again, the slap echoing in the room, leaving a red imprint on her smooth skin. She gasps, pushing back harder, her pussy clenching around you.

“Jesus, Julie,” you growl, your nails digging into her flesh. “You’re gonna kill me.”

From the corner, Belle snickers, her voice lazy but amused. “Yeah, Julie. Work that dick. Milk him dry.”

Julie smirks, but her focus doesn’t waver. Her ass bounces faster, harder, the rhythm hypnotic, and you feel your control slipping as the pleasure builds in your gut, hot and insistent.

“Keep going,” you urge, your voice rough. “Fuck, don’t stop.”

She doesn’t. If anything, she doubles down, her movements wild and relentless as she twerks on your cock, her pussy squeezing you tighter with every bounce. Your breaths come faster, your grip on her hips growing almost desperate as the pressure inside you reaches its breaking point.

“Gonna cum,” you gasp, your thrusts growing erratic as you match her pace.

“Do it,” Belle encourages, her tone teasing but firm. “Fill her up. That’s what she’s here for.”

Natty grins, her voice a purr. “Yeah, Julie wants it. Don’t you, baby?”

Julie moans in response, her movements frantic now, her pussy milking you with every thrust. “Fuck, yes,” she gasps. “Cum in me. Fill me up.”

Her words are your undoing. With one final thrust, you bury yourself as deep as you can go, your cock pulsing as you release inside her. The heat of your cum floods her, and she cries out, her body trembling as her own climax ripples through her.

You stay there for a moment, your bodies locked together, both of you panting and shaking.

Julie collapses forward, her body trembling, chest heaving against the sheets. You slowly pull out, and the sight stops you in your tracks. Your cock slides free with a slick, wet sound, and thick ropes of your cum immediately start dripping from her swollen, glistening pussy, running down her thighs in sticky trails.

She groans softly, her legs shaking as she shifts to the side, collapsing onto her back. “Holy shit,” she mutters, tossing a glance at Natty. “You’re gonna love this.”

Natty grins, already on her knees beside you, her hands sliding over your chest. “Oh, I know I will.” She nudges Julie with her hip, her voice teasing. “Move over, Julie. My turn.”

Julie chuckles breathlessly but obliges, rolling to the side to give Natty space. Natty wastes no time, her hand already wrapping around your cock, stroking it slowly. You twitch in her grip, still sensitive from your release, but she doesn’t let up, her fingers firm and deliberate.

“You’re not done yet, big guy,” she murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to your chest. “We’ve still got work to do.”

Belle snorts from her spot in the chair. “Poor guy looks like he’s already dead. You sure he can keep up?”

“Oh, he can keep up,” Natty replies, her voice full of confidence. She moves lower, her lips trailing hot, wet kisses across your skin, her hand never stopping its slow, steady strokes.

Julie props herself up on one elbow, her gaze fixed on you with a satisfied smirk. “If he can’t, we’ll make him.”

Natty chuckles, her tongue flicking out to tease one of your nipples. The sensation sends a jolt through you, and she grins against your skin. “See? He’s already waking up.”

Her other hand joins in, her nails lightly scraping down your stomach, and your cock twitches again, starting to harden in her grip. She hums in approval, her lips wrapping around your nipple, sucking gently as her hand works you. Slowly you lie down on the bed, pulling Natty with you. The new position allows you to enjoy the best of her touch comfortably.

Julie leans in from the side, her lips finding your neck. “Yeah, relax,” she murmurs, her breath hot against your skin. “Let us take care of you.”

You exhale shakily, your hands resting on their hips as they move together, their lips and hands exploring every inch of you. Julie’s tongue traces the curve of your jaw, while Natty’s mouth moves lower, her kisses trailing down your chest to your stomach.

“Fuck,” you mutter, your head falling back against the pillow.

Natty glances up at you, her grin wicked. “That’s it. Just let go.”

Her strokes grow firmer, her grip tightening around your cock as it hardens fully again, and she laughs softly. “There we go. Good boy.”

Julie smirks, her lips brushing against your ear. “Told you he’d be ready in no time.”

Natty’s hand slows, her thumb swiping over the sensitive head of your cock, smearing the bead of precum that’s already forming. “He’s perfect,” she purrs, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

Belle sighs dramatically from the chair. “All right, Natty, quit hogging him. Let’s see you put that cock to good use.”

Natty laughs, tossing a glance over her shoulder. “Patience, Belle. You’ll get your turn. For now…” She straddles your hips, her wet pussy hovering just above your cock. “It’s my turn.”

You grip her hips instinctively, your body already craving her. “Bring it on,” you mutter, your voice rough with desire.

Natty grins, her hands resting on your chest as she positions herself, her eyes locked on yours. “Oh, I will,” she promises, her voice low and teasing. “You’d better keep up.”

She grips your cock, guiding it to her slick, swollen entrance, her wetness coating the head as she teases you with slow, deliberate movements. You groan, your hands tightening on her hips as the head of your cock pushes into her heat, her pussy stretching to take you inch by inch.

“Fuck,” you mutter, your head falling back against the pillow. “You feel… so fucking good.”

She lets out a low, satisfied moan as she sinks all the way down, her thick, curvy body pressing against you. Her pussy grips you like a glove, tight and wet, and you can feel every pulse, every clench as she adjusts to your size. Her breasts bounce slightly with the movement, full and heavy, her nipples stiff and begging to be touched.

Your hands slide up her waist to cup them, marveling at their softness, and she grins down at you, her dark eyes glinting with amusement. “Like what you see, huh?”

“You’re perfect,” you rasp, your thumbs brushing over her nipples, eliciting a gasp from her. “Thick, juicy… fuck, Natty, you’re incredible.”

She laughs, low and teasing, her hips starting to roll in slow, deliberate movements. “Careful, big guy. You keep talking like that, and I might actually start thinking you’d make a good husband.”

You chuckle breathlessly, gripping her hips as she rides you, her movements smooth and sensual. “Might not be wrong.”

Natty grins, leaning forward slightly, her breasts brushing against your chest as she moves. Her pussy slides up and down your cock with maddening precision, her pace slow enough to drive you crazy, but steady enough to keep you on the edge.

Your cock, still half-numb from your release with Julie, feels like it’s waking up all over again, the pleasure building slowly but intensely. The way her body moves, her hips rolling, her ass bouncing slightly with every thrust—it’s hypnotic, and you can’t look away.

“God, you’re beautiful,” you murmur, your hands trailing up her sides to cup her breasts again, squeezing gently.

Natty moans softly, her pace quickening just slightly. “Mmm, keep talking, sweetheart. I like to hear how much you adore me.”

The sight of her, riding you like she’s in control of the entire world, is almost too much to handle. Her thick thighs frame your hips, her juicy breasts sway with every movement, and her dark hair falls around her face in messy waves.

You glance to the side, catching Julie watching intently, her lips parted as she takes in the scene. “Julie,” you call out, your voice rough. “Kiss her.”

Julie’s eyebrows raise slightly, but she doesn’t hesitate. She moves closer, kneeling on the bed beside you. Natty’s eyes flick to her, and a slow, wicked smile spreads across her lips.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Julie murmurs before leaning in.

Their lips meet in a soft, teasing kiss at first, their mouths moving slowly, testing, teasing. Then it deepens, their tongues tangling, and the sight makes your cock twitch inside Natty.

“Fuck,” you groan, your hands tightening on her hips as she continues to ride you.

Natty moans into the kiss, her movements growing faster, her pussy squeezing you tighter. Julie’s hands slide up to cup Natty’s face, holding her close as their kiss becomes wetter, messier, their moans mingling in the air.

Your eyes flick to the corner of the room, and your breath catches at the sight of Belle. She’s leaning back in the chair, her dress hiked up around her hips, one hand pressed against her panties. Her fingers move in slow, lazy circles, teasing herself as she watches the three of you.

Her eyes meet yours, and she grins, her cheeks flushed. “Don’t mind me,” she says, her voice low and breathy. “Just enjoying the show.”

The combination of Natty’s bouncing ass, her tight, wet pussy gripping you, the sight of her and Julie kissing hungrily, and Belle touching herself in the corner—it’s overwhelming. The pleasure builds rapidly, every nerve in your body on fire as Natty’s hips grind against you, her pussy gripping your cock with that maddening rhythm that has you teetering on the edge. Her thick, curvy body moving with an expertise that makes it impossible to think straight.

But as much as you love the sight of her riding you like this, there’s one thing you need even more.

“Turn around,” you growl, your hands sliding down to her thighs. “I want to see that fat ass while you ride me.”

Natty’s grin widens, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, you like my ass, huh?”

“Love it,” you reply, your voice thick with need. “Now, turn around and show me.”

Natty bites her lip, sliding off you slowly, your cock glistening with her wetness as it slips free. She swings her leg over, turning around to face away from you. And when she lowers herself back down, guiding you into her dripping pussy, the sight is absolutely fucking perfect.

Natty's ass is a fucking spectacle, a fucking masterpiece that deserves to be worshipped. It's not just round and thick; it's fucking voluptuous, a perfect peach that jiggles and bounces with every damn movement. As she sinks down onto your cock, you can see her cheeks spreading, swallowing your shaft like it's fucking hungry for it. She glances back over her shoulder, her hair falling in messy waves around her flushed face.

“Better?” she asks, her voice teasing, as she starts to move her hips in slow, grinding circles.

“Fuck yes,” you groan, your hands gripping her waist. “You’re fucking perfect, Natty.”

Natty laughs softly, her hips lifting and dropping in a slow, torturous rhythm that leaves you panting. Her pussy grips you like a vise, the wet sounds of her movements filling the room as she bounces on your cock.

“Look at you,” she purrs, glancing back again. “Losing your mind over my ass, huh?”

“Can you blame me?” you shoot back, your fingers digging into her hips. “Look at the way it fucking moves.”

She smirks, her pace quickening, her ass clapping against your thighs with every bounce. “Yeah? You like that? You like watching my fat ass swallow your cock?”

“Fucking love it,” you groan, your hips bucking up to meet her movements.

Julie moves in closer, leaning over your chest. Her lips find your neck first, soft and teasing, before trailing down to your chest. “Don’t forget about me,” she murmurs, her voice low and sultry.

Her tongue flicks over your nipple, and you shudder, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure through your already overworked body. She grins against your skin, sucking gently before moving to the other side, her fingers tracing light patterns over your abs.

“You’re lucky we’re letting you take your time,” she teases, her lips brushing against your ear. “Natty could’ve made you cum five minutes ago if she really wanted to.”

Natty laughs, throwing her head back as she rides you harder, her movements wild and relentless now. “He’s just trying to keep up, Julie. Don’t be too hard on him.”

You growl, your grip on Natty’s hips tightening as you thrust up into her, meeting her movements with desperate intensity. The sight of her ass bouncing against you, the wet sounds of her pussy taking you so deep, Julie’s lips on your chest—it’s all too much, but you don’t want it to end.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” you groan, your voice ragged. “You’re gonna make me lose my fucking mind.”

“Good,” Natty shoots back, her voice breathless. “That’s the idea.”

Julie laughs softly, her lips brushing against your neck. “She’s got you right where she wants you.”

Belle’s voice cuts through the haze from her spot in the armchair, the voice low and soft, almost a moan, the fingers rubbing in a steady rhythm under her panties. “Pretty sure she’s got all of us right where she wants us. Keep going, Nat. You’re killing it.”

Natty’s pace doesn’t falter, her ass slamming down on your cock with every thrust, her pussy clenching around you like she’s determined to drain you dry. The pleasure is overwhelming, building in waves that threaten to pull you under, but you hold on, desperate to make this last as long as possible.

“Come on,” Natty urges, glancing back at you again. “Show me what you’ve got, big guy. Fucking give it to me.”

Natty’s pace is relentless, her thick ass bouncing against your thighs with obscene, wet smacks as her pussy milks you. The sight of her in reverse cowgirl, riding your cock like she’s possessed, makes your chest tighten and your breath come in ragged gasps. Every bounce sends another jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine, the heat in your gut coiling tighter, threatening to snap.

Julie is right on top of you, her lips on your neck, her tongue dragging along the sensitive skin as her fingers pinch and tease your nipples. Each twist and flick sends electric shocks through your body, making your cock twitch inside Natty’s impossibly tight, soaking pussy.

Natty throws her head back, her hair cascading down her back as she grinds her hips in circles, her ass slamming against you with each motion. “Come on,” she growls, glancing over her shoulder at you, her eyes wild with lust. “Pump your cum inside this elf whore's pussy. Fucking fill me up.”

You grip her hips tightly, your fingers digging into her soft, luscious flesh as you thrust up into her, meeting her every movement. The way her pussy grips you, squeezing and pulling like it’s desperate for your cum, drives you to the edge.

“You want me to fill you?” you growl, your voice thick and rough.

“Fuck yes,” Natty moans, slamming herself down on your cock with even more force. “I want all of it. Every fucking drop. Fill me so full I’ll feel it for days.”

Her words send a shiver through you, and you grip her even tighter, pulling her down hard onto your cock. “Say it,” you demand, your voice harsh. “Tell me you want me to breed you.”

Natty moans louder, her head falling forward as she picks up the pace, her hips moving with a wild urgency. “I want it,” she cries out, her voice high and desperate. “Fuck, I want it so bad. Breed me, baby. Please! Fill me with your fucking cum! Make me yours.”

Julie bites your neck, her teeth grazing your skin as her fingers tease your nipples harder. “Listen to her,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with lust. “She’s fucking crazy for you.”

Belle’s laugh echoes from the corner, her voice breathy. “You better not disappoint her, big guy. She’s counting on you.”

Natty’s movements become frantic, her pussy gripping you like a vise as she slams herself down on your cock over and over again. “Come on,” she begs, her voice cracking with need. “I need it. I need you to fucking cum inside me. Fill me up. Breed me like a fucking slut.”

You’re shaking now, your entire body taut as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak. “Fuck, Natty,” you groan, your hips jerking uncontrollably. “I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“Yes!” Natty screams, her hands gripping her thighs as she rides you harder, her movements wild and uncoordinated. “Do it! Cum in me! Breed me, you fucking stud!”

The words tip you over the edge, and with a guttural moan, you thrust up into her one final time, burying yourself as deep as you can go. Your cock pulses, your seed spilling into her in hot, thick waves, and Natty loses it.

Her entire body shakes as she cums, her pussy clamping down on your cock, milking you for every last drop. “Fuck, yes!” she screams, her head thrown back, her hands clutching at her bouncing breasts as her orgasm rips through her.

Julie watches with wide eyes, her lips parted in awe, while Belle groans softly, her hand moving faster under her panties. “Goddamn,” Belle mutters. “That’s fucking hot.”

Natty doesn’t stop. Even as you cum inside her, she keeps riding you, her hips slamming down with an almost violent force, drawing out every ounce of your orgasm until you’re shaking, your eyes rolling back in your head.

“Take it,” you groan, your voice raw. “Take every fucking drop.”

“Fuck, yes,” Natty moans, her body trembling as her pussy clenches around you, her own release leaving her dripping all over your cock. “I can feel it. So deep. Mmm, so fucking good.”

Finally, she collapses forward onto the bed, her body trembling, your cum leaking from her stuffed pussy as she pants heavily, her face flushed and satisfied. Julie grins, leaning down to kiss you softly.

“You’re a fucking machine,” she whispers against your lips.

Belle laughs, her voice hoarse. “Machine? More like a damn Christmas miracle.”

—

The room smells like sex and sweat, heavy and warm, and you’re sprawled across the bed, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Natty and Julie are curled up on either side of you, their naked bodies pressed against yours like they’ve been there forever. Natty’s thick curves fit snugly against your side, her head resting on your shoulder, while Julie’s toned frame stretches lazily, her fingers idly tracing patterns on your chest.

In the corner, Belle is by the mirror, her dress half off as she scrubs at her skin with a damp washcloth, muttering under her breath about soot and chimneys.

“Should’ve come through the damn door,” she grumbles, glaring at the streaks of black still clinging to her thighs.

“You think?” Julie calls over, her tone dry.

Belle shoots her a look through the mirror but doesn’t respond, focusing instead on her task.

You exhale, finally finding your voice. “Okay, I gotta ask. What’s life like for you guys? The whole elf thing. Is it like a Christmas movie, or is that just marketing bullshit?”

Natty snorts, her fingers trailing lazily down your stomach. “Marketing bullshit. Total propaganda. Santa’s a businessman; he’s gotta sell the magic.”

Julie props herself up on one elbow, smirking. “Don’t get us wrong, it’s not all bad. But it’s not sugar plums and caroling 24/7, either.”

“Yeah?” you ask, glancing between them. “So, what’s it actually like?”

Natty hums thoughtfully, her thumb brushing over your skin. “Busy as hell, for starters. Prep for Christmas is a year-round thing. You think it's just one day, but getting all those gifts ready for billions of kids? It's insane. And the logistics? Nightmare. Planning routes, checking lists twice, dealing with weather issues, and making sure every kid gets exactly what they want. It’s a year-round hustle.”

Julie nods. “We’ve got divisions for everything: toys, logistics, reindeer care, candy production… Don’t even get me started on the gingerbread sector. Those guys are intense.”

Natty chuckles, nudging you with her hip. “And you know that shit about elves being tiny? Total lie. We’re all like this—” she gestures to her body, curves and all, “—which makes squeezing into some of those old workshops a pain in the ass.”

Belle pipes up from the mirror, still scrubbing at a stubborn patch of ash on her shoulder. “And don’t forget the quotas. Everything’s gotta be done yesterday. Santa’s nice and all, but he’s also a hardass when it comes to deadlines.”

You blink, trying to picture Santa as a stern boss, pacing around with a clipboard and barking orders. “So, he’s not the jolly guy in the red suit?”

Julie laughs. “Oh, he is. But don’t let the ‘ho-ho-ho’ fool you. He runs a tight ship. You miss a deadline, and you’re stuck in snow-shoveling duty for a week.”

“Snow-shoveling duty?” you echo, raising an eyebrow.

Natty groans dramatically. “The worst. Endless piles of snow, freezing your ass off while the rest of the team’s inside drinking hot cocoa. It’s brutal.”

Belle, finally satisfied with her cleanup, turns from the mirror, her dress hanging off her shoulders as she walks over to the bed. “And don’t even get me started on reindeer maintenance,” she says, flopping into the armchair nearby. “Those things are divas. You’d think they’d be grateful for the magical oats, but no—Prancer once kicked me because the oats weren’t warm enough.”

“Sounds like a nightmare,” you say, grinning.

“It’s not all bad,” Natty says, shrugging. “We’ve got a pretty tight-knit community. Lots of parties, good food, and the sex—” she winks at you, “—is legendary.”

Julie smirks. “And it’s not like we don’t have perks. Free housing, endless candy canes, and when Santa’s in a good mood, he throws these massive celebrations. Think Mardi Gras, but with more glitter.”

Belle laughs. “And more eggnog. So much eggnog.”

You shake your head, chuckling. “I had no idea the North Pole was this wild. I always pictured it… cleaner. Quieter.”

Natty leans in, her lips brushing against your ear. “Stick around, and maybe we’ll take you there sometime. Show you the real magic.”

Julie hums, her fingers sliding lower on your chest. “But for now, you’re stuck with us. And I’m not hearing any complaints.”

Belle smirks, settling into her chair and crossing her legs. “Not a bad deal, huh?”

You glance around the room—Natty’s warm body pressed against you, Julie’s teasing fingers, Belle’s playful grin—and you can’t help but smile. “Not bad at all.”

The warmth of Julie and Natty pressed against you, their soft bodies against your sides, has you stirring again. It doesn’t take much; their scent, their touch, the memory of the last couple of minutes—it all combines into a haze of arousal that has your cock stiffening between your legs. You glance down, half-laughing at yourself, already semi-hard just from lying there with them.

Natty notices first, her hand brushing lightly over your stomach before trailing lower. She grins when she feels the slight twitch of your cock. “Look who’s ready for round three,” she teases, her dark eyes glinting with mischief.

Julie hums, her fingers joining Natty’s, stroking your chest lightly. “And here I thought we wore him out.”

You chuckle, your breath catching slightly as they touch you. “I guess you underestimated me.”

But your attention shifts to Belle, still perched on the armchair. She’s been quiet, watching, her cheeks flushed pink. “Belle,” you say softly, holding out a hand. “Come here.”

Belle hesitates, glancing between you and the other two before standing. As she approaches, the soft light of the room finally reveals her fully; she’s petite, with small, perky breasts that barely contain their youthful firmness. Her tummy looks soft to the touch, with a gentle curve that accentuates her femininity. It's not flat or toned but deliciously smooth, and only adds to her overall cuteness, making her appear even more delicate and enticing. Her tight, rounded ass complements her figure perfectly, making your cock twitch with anticipation.

She notices you staring and crosses her arms, pretending to be annoyed. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say, smiling. “You’re beautiful.”

Her cheeks flush, and she huffs, climbing onto the bed awkwardly. Julie and Natty make room for her, shifting to the sides, and she kneels between them, looking almost shy.

“I’m not as… experienced as them,” Belle says, her voice quieter than usual.

Natty snickers, leaning against the headboard. “Yeah, no shit. That’s why you stayed in the armchair watching, isn’t it? You were scared.”

“I was not scared!” Belle snaps, glaring at her.

“Sure,” Natty says with a wink.

You reach up, cupping Belle’s cheek gently, and her glare softens as her eyes meet yours. “Hey,” you murmur. “You’re perfect. No need to be shy.”

Her lips part slightly, and you lean in, brushing a soft kiss against her mouth. She gasps softly, her body relaxing as she melts into you, her hands resting on your chest as the kiss deepens.

Natty chuckles behind her, and a second later, her hands slide around Belle’s sides, cupping her small breasts. Belle pulls back from the kiss, gasping as Natty’s fingers pinch and tease her nipples. “See?” Natty says with a grin. “I’ll help you out.”

Julie moves closer, her lips brushing against your neck before trailing down to your chest, her fingers dancing over your abs. “Don’t forget about us,” she murmurs, her tongue flicking over one of your nipples, making you shudder.

You look at the three of them—Belle’s small, trembling frame, Natty’s mischievous grin as she teases Belle’s breasts, Julie’s soft lips trailing down your body—and you can’t help but speak. “You’re all incredible,” you murmur, your voice thick with admiration. “The most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen.”

Julie hums against your chest, her lips curving into a smile. “We’d better be. We’re yours now, after all.”

Natty nods, her hands still on Belle’s breasts. “Once we’re all pregnant, you’re stuck with us. Forever.”

You chuckle softly, your hand sliding between Belle’s thighs, cupping her wet heat. “Best thing that’s ever happened to me,” you murmur, your fingers sliding against her slick folds. “Three perfect girls all to myself? I’ve won the fucking lottery.”

Belle moans softly, her hips jerking against your hand. “You better take good care of us,” she says, her voice breathless.

“I will,” you promise, your fingers brushing against her clit, making her gasp. “I’ll take care of you. All of you.”

Natty grins, her hands sliding down Belle’s sides. “We’ll hold you to that.”

You shift, lying flat on the bed, your hands on Belle’s hips. “Come here,” you say, your voice rough with need. “I want to taste you.”

Belle hesitates for only a moment before nodding, her cheeks still flushed as she straddles your face. Her knees press into the mattress on either side of your head, and she lowers herself slowly, her pink, glistening pussy hovering just above your lips.

You grip her hips, pulling her down, and she gasps as your tongue slides against her folds. She’s sweet and soft, her taste driving you wild as you lick and suck, your tongue swirling around her clit before dipping inside her.

“Oh, fuck,” Belle moans, her hands gripping the headboard as her hips start to rock against your face.

Julie wastes no time, sliding down the bed to take your cock in her hand. She strokes you slowly at first, her eyes glinting with anticipation, before leaning in to wrap her lips around the head, sucking gently.

Natty grins, positioning herself behind Julie. “Let me help,” she says, her hands spreading Julie’s thighs as her tongue dips between them, licking along Julie’s folds.

The sensation of Belle grinding on your face, Julie’s warm mouth on your cock, and the sound of Natty’s tongue working between Julie’s legs is almost overwhelming. You groan into Belle’s pussy, your hands tightening on her hips as you pull her closer, devouring her like you can’t get enough.

Belle’s moans grow louder, her body trembling above you. “Oh, God,” she gasps, her hips moving faster. “You’re so… fucking good at this.”

Julie hums around your cock, her tongue swirling around the head as she takes you deeper. Natty’s muffled moans from behind her only add to the intensity, and you can feel yourself growing harder with every passing second.

Belle’s soft thighs frame your face as she rides your tongue, her sweet, pink pussy dripping with arousal as you devour her. Your hands grip her hips, guiding her movements as you flick your tongue over her clit, sucking it gently before dipping back into her folds. Every little gasp and moan she makes sends a jolt of satisfaction through you, urging you to go harder, deeper.

Above you, Belle’s voice trembles. “Oh, fuck… Oh, God, yes… That’s so fucking good.” Her fingers grip the headboard, her hips moving erratically as she chases her pleasure. “I can’t—oh, my fucking God—”

Meanwhile, Julie has taken your cock in her mouth, her lips stretched around your length as she works you with a fervor that leaves you trembling. She alternates between slow, deliberate bobs and deep, greedy sucks that have your cock twitching in her throat. Her tongue swirls around the head each time she pulls back, lapping at the precum that beads there before taking you deep again, her nose brushing against your pelvis.

Julie moans softly around your cock, her throat vibrating against you as she feels Natty’s hands spreading her ass cheeks from behind. “Natty—what are you—”

Her words cut off into a sharp cry as Natty’s tongue presses against her asshole, teasing the tight ring of muscle with slow, wet strokes. Julie’s body jerks, and her hips push back involuntarily as Natty’s tongue slips inside, swirling and licking with expert precision.

“Fuck,” Julie gasps, pulling off your cock long enough to catch her breath. Her hand strokes you in quick, firm movements as she groans, her voice trembling. “Natty, you’re such a—oh, fuck—such a filthy bitch.”

Natty grins against her, her tongue plunging deeper as her hands knead Julie’s ass. “Damn right,” she murmurs, her voice muffled. “Now keep sucking him, Julie. I’m just getting started back here.”

Julie shivers but obeys, taking your cock back into her mouth with a loud, wet slurp. She’s even more eager now, her lips moving faster, her hand stroking the base in time with her bobs. The combined sensations of her warm, slick mouth and Belle’s pussy grinding on your tongue make your head spin, every nerve in your body alight with pleasure.

Belle’s voice grows higher, more desperate, as her movements become frantic. “Oh, God, oh, God, oh, fuck, I’m gonna—”

You grip her hips tighter, pulling her down hard against your mouth as your tongue flicks over her clit again and again. Her thighs tremble around your head, and she cries out, her body shaking as her orgasm crashes over her.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Belle screams, her hips grinding against your face as you lick her through her climax, her juices dripping down your chin.

Julie moans around your cock, her mouth moving faster as Natty’s tongue works deeper into her ass, licking and teasing with an intensity that leaves her trembling. She pulls back with a gasp, her hand still stroking you as she throws her head back, her voice breaking. “Fuck, Natty, you’re gonna make me cum!”

Natty chuckles, her hands gripping Julie’s hips as her tongue plunges even deeper, her wet, messy sounds mingling with the obscene noises of Julie’s blowjob. “Do it,” Natty growls. “Cum for us, Julie. Let him hear how good it feels.”

Julie’s moans grow louder, her hand tightening around your cock as she strokes you harder, her other hand gripping the sheets. Her body shakes, her voice rising into a scream as her orgasm hits, her thighs clenching around Natty’s face.

“Fuck!” Julie cries, her body jerking as she cums, her hand squeezing your cock as she moans uncontrollably.

Belle slowly climbs off you, her thighs trembling slightly as she kneels beside you on the bed, her flushed face framed by messy blonde hair. She’s still catching her breath, her lips parted, her chest heaving, but the smile she gives you is soft, almost shy.

“You’re fucking amazing,” she murmurs, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “No wonder they can’t get enough of you.”

You grin, still tasting her juices on your lips. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

Her cheeks flush even deeper, and her eyes dart down to your cock—still rock-hard and glistening with Julie’s spit. She bites her lip, her gaze darkening with anticipation.

“You ready for more?” you ask, sitting up slightly.

Belle nods quickly. “Yeah.”

You guide her onto her back, spreading her legs gently as she lies beneath you. Her small, cute frame is stretched out on the bed, her soft tummy rising and falling with her breaths, her wet, pink pussy practically begging for you. You position yourself between her thighs, the head of your cock brushing against her entrance.

Julie leans back on the bed beside you, her lips curling into a lazy smirk. “Better not scare her off, big guy. She’s still new to all this.”

Belle glares at her but doesn’t respond, her attention fixed entirely on you as you lean over her. Your hands rest on her hips, your cock pressing more firmly against her slick folds, and she shivers.

But before you can push inside, Natty’s voice cuts through the moment. “Wait!”

You both glance up to see her hopping off the bed, her naked body moving with purpose as she heads toward the door.

“Where the hell are you going?” Julie calls after her, annoyed.

Natty doesn’t stop, her voice trailing back. “I saw something in the kitchen. Be right back!”

The three of you exchange confused looks, but you shrug, your attention shifting back to Belle. “Don’t worry about her,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss her softly.

Belle sighs into the kiss, her hands sliding up to rest on your shoulders as you position yourself again. But just as you’re about to push inside, Natty bursts back into the room, climbing onto the bed with something in her hand.

“I’m back!” she announces triumphantly, holding up a candy cane like it’s a trophy.

Julie’s eyes narrow, immediately suspicious. “What the fuck are you doing with that?”

Natty grins wickedly, crawling onto the bed and motioning for Julie to lie down. “Trust me, you’ll like this.”

Julie raises an eyebrow but complies, lying back and spreading her legs slightly. “You’re such a dirty whore,” she mutters, though her tone is more amused than annoyed.

Natty winks. “Takes one to know one.”

She leans down, her tongue flicking out to wet the candy cane before sliding it into her mouth, sucking it slowly. The sight is obscene—her lips wrapped around the striped treat, her tongue swirling over it like she’s giving it the blowjob of its life. When she pulls it out, it’s glistening, coated in her spit.

Belle watches the scene with wide eyes, her breath hitching. “Holy shit,” she whispers, her hands clutching the sheets.

Natty moves between Julie’s legs, guiding the candy cane to her ass. She circles the tight ring of muscle slowly, teasing it, and Julie’s body tenses.

“Relax,” Natty purrs, her other hand stroking Julie’s thigh. “You’re gonna love this.”

Julie groans, her head falling back. “You’re insane. You know that, right?”

“Shut up and enjoy it,” Natty replies, pushing the candy cane in slowly.

Julie gasps as it slides inside, her body arching slightly. “Fuck,” she moans, her hands gripping the sheets.

The sight is enough to drive Belle over the edge. She looks up at you, her eyes blazing with need. “Please,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “I can’t wait anymore. Fuck me.”

You’re no different. Watching Natty work the candy cane into Julie’s ass, hearing Julie’s breathless moans, and seeing Belle’s flushed, needy face beneath you—it’s all too much. You position yourself again, gripping Belle’s hips as you push the head of your cock into her wet, tight pussy.

Belle gasps, her nails digging into your arms as you slide deeper, her walls clenching around you. “Oh, fuck,” she moans, her head falling back. “Oh—god—you’re so big.”

“Fuck, you’re tight,” you groan, your hands gripping her hips as you bottom out, buried to the hilt.

Natty glances up from Julie, a wicked grin on her face. “Looks like someone’s having fun.”

Julie moans louder as Natty twists the candy cane slightly, her hips bucking. “Shut up, Natty,” she gasps. “Keep going.”

You focus on Belle, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, her tight heat wrapping around you perfectly. Her pussy is tight and wet, gripping your cock with every thrust as you pick up speed, your hips slamming into her with increasing intensity. Her legs wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, her heels digging into your back as if she’s trying to keep you buried as deep as possible.

“Deeper,” she gasps, her voice trembling, raw with need. “Please, fuck me deeper.”

You oblige, driving into her harder, your cock stretching her, filling her completely. Her small body trembles beneath you, her nails clawing at your back as her head tilts back, exposing her neck. You lean forward, your lips brushing against her slick, salty skin, your teeth grazing lightly as you kiss her, your breaths hot and uneven.

“Fuck, Belle,” you murmur against her neck, your voice rough. “You feel so fucking good.”

She moans, her hands clutching at you, holding you close as your bodies press together, sweat and heat mingling as you fuck her. “I can’t… Oh, god… You’re so deep,” she cries, her voice high and desperate.

By your side, Julie’s moans mix with Belle’s as Natty continues to work the candy cane into her ass. Julie’s legs are spread wide, her fingers rubbing her clit in frantic circles as she rocks her hips against the sensation, her breaths coming in sharp, uneven gasps.

“Fuck, this is so dirty,” Julie groans, her eyes fluttering shut as her hips roll against Natty’s hand. “I’ve never… Fuck… No one’s ever done this to me before.”

Natty smirks, twisting the candy cane slightly, earning a loud, shaky moan from Julie. “No one’s ever fucked you like this because no one’s as filthy as us,” she says, her voice dripping with amusement.

Julie lets out a breathless laugh, her fingers moving faster on her clit. “Fuck, you’re right… It’s so fucking good.”

Belle’s voice pulls your attention back to her, her legs tightening around you as you thrust into her, your cock pounding her sweet, slick pussy. “Don’t stop,” she begs, her voice trembling. “Please don’t stop.”

You press your forehead against hers, your bodies glued together as you move, each thrust deeper and harder than the last. Her small frame seems to mold against you, her soft tummy pressing into your abs, her breasts brushing against your chest with every movement.

“I won’t stop,” you promise, your voice rough, almost a growl. “You feel too fucking good.”

Belle’s moans are raw, unfiltered, her arms wrapping tightly around your shoulders as she buries her face in your neck. “Oh, god,” she cries. “I can feel you everywhere. You’re so fucking deep.”

Julie watches you both, her lips parted, her hand pausing briefly as she takes in the scene. “Fuck,” she mutters, her voice husky. “Look at you two. That’s so fucking hot.”

Natty chuckles, leaning closer to Julie, her hand still working the candy cane in and out of her ass. “You think that’s hot? Look at her face. She’s fucking gone.”

Julie laughs breathlessly, her fingers resuming their rhythm on her clit. “Belle, you look like he’s fucking you into another dimension.”

Belle doesn’t respond with words, only a loud, trembling moan as she clutches you tighter, her pussy clenching around your cock like it never wants to let you go.

The intensity builds with every thrust, every moan, every word. You’re driving into Belle with a passion that feels primal, raw, unstoppable, and she takes it all, her body arching, trembling, meeting your movements with frantic need.

“You’re perfect,” you murmur against her skin, your lips finding her neck again. “So fucking perfect.”

Belle’s only response is a choked, desperate cry, her nails digging into your back as she rides the overwhelming sensations.

Julie moans louder behind you, her voice thick with pleasure. “Keep going, big guy,” she urges, her breath hitching. “Fucking destroy her. She’s loving it.”

Natty laughs, her fingers teasing Julie’s clit now as she continues working the candy cane in and out of her ass. “We’re all loving it,” she says, her voice low and sultry.

The heat in the room is almost suffocating, bodies glistening with sweat, the air thick with the scent of sex and arousal. Belle’s moans grow louder, her body trembling against you as her nails rake your back, her pussy tightening around your cock with every thrust. You know you’re close, dangerously close, but you’re not done with her yet.

With a groan, you slide your hands under Belle’s ass and lift her, your cock slipping free for a moment as you shift positions. “Come here,” you murmur, your voice rough and commanding.

Her wide eyes meet yours, her cheeks flushed, and she lets out a shaky gasp as you pull her up into a kneeling position, your bodies pressed together as you sit back on your heels. She straddles you instinctively, her legs wrapping around your waist as you guide her down onto your cock again, the head slipping inside her slick, tight pussy.

“Oh, fuck,” Belle cries, her arms wrapping around your neck as she sinks down completely, your cock filling her to the hilt.

You groan, your hands gripping her hips as you press your forehead against hers, your breaths mingling. The intimacy of the position is electric—her small, soft body pressed against yours, her flushed skin against your chest, her pussy gripping you like it was made for you.

“Fuck, Belle,” you murmur, your lips brushing against her ear. “You feel so fucking good.”

Her voice trembles, her fingers digging into your shoulders. “You’re so deep,” she moans, her hips rocking against you. “I can feel you in my stomach.”

Natty shifts, the air thick with the sound of her own ragged breathing as she pulls the candy cane free from Julie’s slick, stretched ass. Without pause, she rolls to her side, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire as she closes the distance between them. Her thigh slides over Julie’s, skin sticky with the mingling heat of their bodies. Her hips press forward until her wet, swollen pussy meets Julie's in a sticky, urgent clash. The friction sparks a shudder through both of them as she adjusts, their thighs tangling, bodies grinding.

"Alright, give me that sweet pussy, baby.” The sight alone makes your cock twitch inside Belle, and you can’t help but groan.

“Fuck,” Julie mutters, her voice thick with arousal as Natty’s movements create delicious friction. “You really are a dirty whore, Natty.”

Natty grins, her hands gripping Julie’s thighs as she grinds against her, their slick folds sliding together with obscene wet sounds. “Oh, are you surprised, baby?” she purrs, her voice low and teasing.

Belle gasps, her hips moving faster as she rides you, her small body trembling in your arms. “Don’t stop,” she begs, her voice desperate. “Please, don’t stop.”

You grip her hips tighter, guiding her movements as you thrust up into her, meeting her rhythm with raw, passionate intensity. “I’m not stopping,” you growl, your lips finding her neck. “I won't stop until I cum inside that tight little pussy.”

Julie lets out a sharp cry as Natty’s movements grow rougher, her hips bucking against her. “Fuck, Natty,” she moans, her fingers sliding down to rub her clit. “You’re so fucking good at this.”

Natty laughs breathlessly, her body grinding harder against Julie’s. “You're not bad yourself.”

Julie’s only response is a loud, trembling moan, her back arching as the pleasure overwhelms her.

You glance between them, the sight of their scissoring bodies pushing you to the brink. Natty’s thick thighs flex with every movement, her hips grinding in perfect rhythm against Julie’s, while Julie’s fingers move frantically between them, her cries of pleasure filling the room.

Belle’s moans pull your attention back to her, and you grip her tighter, your cock plunging into her with deep, deliberate thrusts. “You’re mine,” you murmur against her neck, your voice rough with need. “All of you. You’re fucking mine.”

“Yours,” Belle gasps, her arms tightening around your neck. “Fuck, I’m yours. Just don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

Natty groans, her eyes fluttering shut as her body moves against Julie’s, her voice dripping with lust. “This is fucking perfect,” she moans. “Keep going. All of us, together.”

The room is a mess of sounds—moans, gasps, the wet slap of skin against skin—and the heat builds higher, the tension coiling tighter with every second, the pleasure driving you all further, the desire to push each other over the edge growing stronger with every movement.

Belle’s trembling body rocks against yours, her pussy squeezing your cock with desperate, wet heat. Every thrust pushes you closer to the edge, your cock throbbing inside her as her soft moans and whispered pleas echo in your ears. The heat between all of you is unbearable, the air heavy with sweat, arousal, and the raw, primal need that none of you can contain any longer.

You grip Belle’s hips tightly, thrusting up into her as she rides you, her small frame pressing against your chest, her legs wrapped around your waist. “Fuck, Belle,” you groan, your voice ragged. “I’m so close.”

Natty’s voice cuts through the haze, her tone teasing and full of lust. “Oh, yes,” she purrs, her hands gripping Julie’s thighs as she grinds harder against her. “That’s what I like to hear. Come on, big guy, she’s the last one. Fill her up. Make her yours forever.”

Belle gasps, her nails digging into your shoulders as she grinds herself harder against you. Her lips are inches from yours, her breath mingling with yours as she stares into your eyes, her gaze filled with desperation and raw need. “Please,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “Please, make me yours. Breed me. I want to carry your baby.”

Her words send a shiver through your entire body, awakening something deep and primal inside you. Your hips buck up harder, your cock plunging deeper into her, and Belle cries out, her arms wrapping tightly around your neck as she clings to you.

Natty’s grin widens, her voice taking on a teasing edge. “Oh, she’s begging for it now. Look at her, desperate for you to knock her up.”

Julie moans louder, her fingers moving frantically against her clit as her hips buck against Natty’s. “Fuck,” she gasps, her head falling back. “He’s going to make her pregnant, and I can’t… Oh—god—I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna fucking cum.”

The symphony of moans, cries, and wet sounds grows louder, the intensity building to an unbearable crescendo. Julie and Natty’s bodies grind together, slick and desperate, their movements wild and erratic as they chase their pleasure.

Belle’s eyes lock onto yours, her lips trembling as she whispers again. “Please… Please cum in me. Make me pregnant. Make me yours forever.”

Her words are your undoing.

With a guttural groan, you bury yourself as deep as you can inside her, your cock pulsing as your release hits. Hot, thick streams of cum spill into her, and Belle screams, her body shaking against yours as she feels you fill her.

“Fuck!” you growl, your arms wrapping around her tightly, your bodies glued together as you pump her full, your hips jerking with each spurt.

The sensation drives Julie over the edge, her back arching as she screams, her fingers pressing hard against her clit. “Oh, fuck, I’m cumming!” she cries, her body jerking violently as her release hits, squirting all over the bed, her juices splashing against Natty’s thighs.

Natty gasps, her hands gripping Julie’s hips as the wetness spreads between them. “Goddamn,” she mutters, her voice thick with lust. “You’re a fucking mess, Julie.”

Belle clings to you, her breathing ragged, her body trembling as she feels the heat of your cum deep inside her. “Thank you,” she whispers, her voice soft and breathless. “Thank you, thank you…”

You hold her tightly, your chest heaving, your cock still twitching inside her as you press a kiss to her forehead. “You’re mine,” you murmur against her skin. “All of you. Forever.”

Julie collapses against the bed, her chest heaving as she laughs breathlessly. “Forever, huh? You’d better be ready to keep that promise.”

Natty chuckles, leaning over to kiss Belle’s cheek. “He’ll keep it. He’s got no choice now.”

The room falls into a warm, heavy silence, broken only by the sound of your labored breaths and the faint hum of satisfaction that lingers in the air.

You look down at Belle, her eyes shining with a mix of satisfaction and adoration. You can't resist the urge to seal this moment with a hot, passionate kiss. You lean in, your lips meeting hers in a fierce, claiming embrace. Your tongue delves into her mouth, tasting her sweetness, feeling her soft moans vibrate against your lips. Her body melts into yours, her arms wrapping around your neck as she kisses you back with equal fervor.

As you finally break the kiss, you rest your forehead against Belle's, your eyes locked onto hers, reaffirming your claim. "Forever," you whisper, and she nods, a small, content smile playing on her lips.

—

You wake up, but your consciousness seems to have stayed behind, trapped in some deep corner of your brain. Every muscle in your body aches, and your cock feels like it’s been through a marathon—probably because it has. The memories of last night flood back in vivid, explicit detail, and you groan, rolling over in bed.

But… the bed feels empty.

Your eyes snap open, and you’re greeted by nothing but rumpled sheets and an eerie quiet. No Natty. No Julie. No Belle.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, running a hand through your hair. “It was a fucking dream, wasn’t it?”

It’s not impossible.

Hell, it wouldn’t even be surprising. You’ve been alone for so long it’s no wonder your brain decided to gift you some kind of depraved Christmas fever dream. But damn, it felt real. The ache in your hips, the dull burn in your back—your body isn’t lying about how thoroughly you were wrecked.

You sigh, dragging yourself out of bed. “Maybe I’ve finally lost it,” you mutter to yourself. “Gone full-on crazy lonely dude. Great.”

Still, the smell of something cooking wafts up from downstairs, and your stomach growls. Dream or not, food sounds like the next logical step. You throw on some sweatpants and shuffle toward the stairs, your feet heavy on the creaking wood.

When you reach the bottom and turn into the kitchen, the sight that greets you makes you stop dead in your tracks.

They’re there.

Julie is in the living room, rearranging the pictures on your walls like she owns the place. Her sleek black hair is tied back, and she’s wearing one of your button-up shirts—too big for her but just short enough to make you gulp.

Natty's in the kitchen, humming to herself as she flips pancakes on the stove, her curves accentuated by the apron that barely covers her, tied loosely around her waist. It's the only thing she's wearing, as a matter of fact.

And Belle? She’s exactly where you’d expect her to be: sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by crumbs, shoving another bite of toast into her mouth. She is wearing one of your shirts. It's massive on her, but she looks so cute and cozy. Her blonde hair is a fluffy cloud of curls, falling haphazardly around her face. It's the most adorable thing ever.

They all turn to you at once, as if on cue.

“Morning, big guy,” Julie says casually, holding up a framed picture of you and your old dog. “You know this was crooked, right?”

“Good morning!” Natty chimes, flashing you a bright smile before flipping another pancake. “I hope you like breakfast. We kind of raided your kitchen.”

Belle waves with her toast, her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. “Mmrphning,” she mumbles, crumbs tumbling onto the table.

You just stand there, staring at them, your brain short-circuiting. “You’re… real,” you say finally.

Julie smirks, setting the frame back on the wall. “Of course we’re real. What, you think you hallucinated all that?”

“I wouldn’t blame him,” Natty quips, her tone playful. “Last night was pretty intense. Honestly, I’m impressed he’s still standing.”

Belle swallows her mouthful of toast and grins. “You do look like you got hit by a reindeer or two.”

You blink, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “I… I thought I dreamed it. I woke up, and you weren’t—”

“—in your bed?” Julie finishes, arching an eyebrow. “Yeah, we figured you’d want to sleep in. You earned it.”

Natty plates a stack of pancakes and sets them on the table, her grin widening. “Plus, you looked so cute passed out like that. We didn’t want to wake you.”

Belle grabs a pancake with her bare hands, ignoring the fork sitting right in front of her. “So, are you gonna join us, or are you just gonna stand there gawking?”

You snap out of your daze, shuffling to the table and collapsing into a chair. “This is insane,” you mutter, running a hand through your hair. “You’re real. You’re actually real.”

“Yeah, we established that,” Julie says, sitting down across from you with a cup of coffee. “Now eat. Natty went all domestic goddess for you.”

Natty grins, sliding into the seat next to you and piling your plate high with pancakes. “Don’t get used to it,” she teases. “Breakfast is the only thing I know how to make.”

Belle smirks, her mouth full again. “She’s not kidding. I saw her almost burn water once.”

Natty glares at her, but there’s no real heat behind it. “You’re one to talk, Miss ‘I Eat Cereal with a Fork.’”

You chuckle despite yourself, cutting into your pancakes. “So, this is my life now, huh? Three elves living in my house, eating my food, rearranging my furniture.”

Julie shrugs, sipping her coffee. “Pretty much. We’re pregnant with your babies, remember? You’re stuck with us now.”

Natty leans in, resting her chin on her hand. “Admit it. You love it.”

You glance around the table at the three of them—the sly smirk on Julie’s lips, the playful sparkle in Natty’s eyes, Belle’s adorable, crumb-covered grin—and you can’t help but smile.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I really do.”

The pancakes are incredible, fluffy and sweet, though the company is sweeter. You shovel another bite into your mouth, glancing between the three of them as they eat—or, in Belle’s case, inhale—at the table. It feels surreal, the warmth of their presence filling the space that, until now, had always felt too empty.

But then Julie sets her coffee down with a soft clink and fixes you with a look that’s somewhere between regretful and serious. “Look, we need to talk,” she says. "There's something you need to know.”

Your stomach flips. “That sounds ominous.”

Natty smirks, nudging your thigh under the table. “Relax. We’re not breaking up with you or anything.”

Belle, mid-bite, chimes in with her mouth full. “We’re pregnant, remember? Well, probably pregnant. Anyway, you're our man now.”

You laugh nervously, but Julie doesn’t budge, her tone calm but firm. “It’s about what happens next. The logistics.”

“Logistics?” you echo, frowning. “What logistics? I thought we just… lived happily ever after or something.”

Julie snorts, crossing her arms. “You think the magic world works like a rom-com? Cute. No, there’s rules. Bureaucracies. Red tape thicker than Santa’s thighs after cookie season.”

Belle raises a hand, still chewing. “Which is always, by the way.”

“Okay, back up,” you say, setting your fork down. “What rules? What are we talking about here?”

Natty sighs, leaning back in her chair. “It’s complicated. We’re technically under North Pole jurisdiction, which means we can’t just pack up and move here full-time. There’s laws against it. Something about maintaining magical secrecy or whatever.”

“Plus,” Julie adds, “having a half-human, half-elf baby is already bending the rules. Some of the North Pole council isn’t exactly thrilled about it.”

You blink. “Wait, what? The council knows?”

Belle grins, finally swallowing her mouthful. “Of course they do. They know everything. They’ve got this creepy snow globe that shows them all the important stuff. Like Santa’s version of the NSA. We're in trouble now, but it's for a good reason.”

“That’s terrifying,” you mutter.

“It’s efficient,” Julie counters.

“But what does that mean for us?” you ask, glancing between them. “Are you saying you’re just going to leave?”

Julie hesitates, glancing at Natty, who takes over. “We’re not leaving you. But we can’t stay full-time, either. For now, we’ll have to visit. Weekends, holidays, that kind of thing.”

“That’s… not what I was expecting.”

“Hey,” Natty says softly, reaching for your hand. “It’s not forever. Once the babies are born, we’ll have more leverage. Interracial babies in the magical world are rare, and they’re considered kind of… important.”

“Important how?”

Belle pipes up. “Well, they’re supposed to be, like, bridges between worlds or whatever. Diplomatic symbols of unity. It’s a whole thing.”

Julie rolls her eyes. “Which is ironic, considering how much the council hates dealing with them.”

Natty nods. “Yeah, but it works in our favor. They can’t exactly ignore us when the kids come along. We’ll push for a reassignment so we can all live together.”

“Reassignment?” you ask, feeling like you’re still two steps behind.

Julie leans forward, her tone all business. “Basically, we’d petition for you to come live at the North Pole. It’s rare, but it happens. Usually for special cases, like this one.”

“You’d really want me to come with you?” you ask, your voice soft.

Natty grins. “Duh. You think we’d go through all this just to ditch you?”

Belle nods vigorously. “We’re a package deal now. Besides, you’d love it at the North Pole. Endless hot cocoa, magical reindeer, zero commute time—it’s awesome.”

Julie smirks. “And cold as hell. Better invest in thermal underwear.”

You laugh despite yourself, the weight in your chest lifting slightly. “So, what happens until then?”

Natty squeezes your hand. “We’ll make it work. We’re not going anywhere, not really. And who knows? Maybe we’ll even get you on the Nice List permanently.”

Belle snickers. “That’s a stretch.”

Julie shoots her a look before turning back to you. “We’re serious, though. You said you wanted a family, handsome, well now you've got yourself a big one. You’re ours now, and we don’t take that lightly.”

The warmth in her voice is undeniable, and you find yourself smiling. “You’re mine too, you know.”

Natty grins, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Damn right we are.”

Belle, already reaching for another pancake, grins around her fork. “Better get used to it, lover boy. Three elf girls are no joke.”

—

The pancakes are history, coffee mugs bone dry, and sunlight floods the kitchen, casting everything in this weirdly golden, almost-too-perfect glow. Julie, Natty, and Belle are still parked around the table, eyes pinned on you like you’re the main event.

Julie’s the first to break the silence, her voice calm but carrying that no-bullshit weight. “Alright,” she says. “There’s one more thing we gotta hash out.”

“More bureaucratic bullshit?” you ask, half-joking, half-dreading.

Natty leans into her palm, a sly grin tugging at her lips. “Nah, not this time. This one’s about you. What you want.”

Belle tilts her head, her blonde hair catching the light. “Yeah, like… this whole setup? It’s not exactly your typical ‘happily ever after.’ Magic babies, council breathing down our necks, all of us living together—it’s a lot. Like, a lot a lot.”

Julie leans forward, her eyes dead serious but with a softness underneath that makes you pay attention. “We need to know if you’re really in this. Like, all in. This isn’t some fling or a one-night thing that spiraled out of control. This is real. It’s us. It’s a family. Forever. And if you’re gonna bolt or start second-guessing once we start building this life, we need to know now. Because if you’re not solid… it’ll wreck us.”

The word “wreck” just sits there, heavy as hell, daring anyone to argue with it.

You take a moment, looking at each of them. Julie’s got that sharp, take-no-prisoners look softened by something way more raw. Natty’s smirking, sure, but there’s a flicker of doubt behind it. And Belle, sweet Belle, is practically radiating hope, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of the shirt.

“I’m in,” you say, no hesitation. “For all of it. The magic, the council, the chaos. But mostly, I’m in for you. For us. For this family we’re building. Whatever it takes.”

Belle’s lips part in surprise, and her eyes well up slightly. “You mean that?” she whispers.

You nod, reaching across the table to take her hand. “Of course I mean it. I’ve spent enough Christmases alone to know what I don’t want. And what I want is right here.”

Natty’s grin returns, bright and full of mischief. “You realize we’re not exactly the poster-perfect family, right? You’ve got a dirty-mouthed toy-maker, a bossy logistics queen, and a cookie-devouring disaster. Not to mention the kids we’re about to have? That’s a circus waiting to happen.”

You chuckle, glancing at Belle, who’s already looking at the fruit bowl in the corner of the kitchen. “It’s not normal, no. But normal’s overrated anyway.”

Julie’s lips twitch into a faint smile, and she tilts her head. “You’d really give up your life here for us? Your home, your routines, everything you know?”

You shrug, a warm smile spreading across your face. “Home isn’t a place. It’s people. And I don’t need routines—I need you. All of you. Even Belle eating me out of house and home.”

Belle laughs, her cheeks pink. “You’d miss me if I didn’t.”

Natty leans closer, her eyes glinting with amusement. “And the council? The North Pole? That’s a whole different world, you know. It’s not just hot chocolate and snowball fights. You sure you’re ready for that?”

You meet her gaze, unwavering. “I’m ready for anything, as long as it’s with you.”

Julie lets out a soft breath, her shoulders relaxing for the first time all morning. “Well, shit,” she mutters, a smile tugging at her lips. “I didn’t think you’d actually say yes.”

Natty snickers. “Guess we’re stuck with him now, huh?”

Belle squeezes your hand, her grin wide and genuine. “Good. I like being stuck with him.”

Julie rolls her eyes but smiles, reaching out to rest her hand over yours. “Then it’s settled. You’re ours, big guy. Welcome to the weirdest family you’ll ever know.”

You laugh, your chest warm, full, complete. “It’s a family,” you say softly. “And that’s all that matters.”

Natty leans back in her chair, her grin wide. “Weird or not, it’s ours. And I have a feeling we'll be very happy.”

Belle beams, looking at everyone at the table with a certain enthusiasm. “Same.”

Julie claps her hands. “Okay, enough of the sappy shit. Let’s toast to this insanity.” She grabs the pitcher of orange juice and starts pouring it into the mugs around the table.

Julie lifts her mug, her voice low but steady. “To family. The unconventional kind.”

Natty raises her cup, her grin wicked. “To the craziest family of the North Pole.”

Belle lifts her juice, her eyes sparkling with the sunlight and something more. “To us.”

Julie locks eyes with you, her voice calm but full of unshakable resolve. “To family. The kind that doesn’t play by the rules.”

You raise your cup with a laugh. “To family.”

And for the first time, it feels like the holidays aren’t just another lonely season—they’re the start of something real. Something yours. Something forever.

[mrschristensen]

Going Last Minute Christmas Shopping starring Clayton Beresford

WARNINGS: a little steamy/spicy but no smut (otherwise pure fluff!), pet names/name calling (love, princess)

synopsis: The couple go Christmas shopping, though it was literally two days away; but nonetheless, they end up enjoying it.

WC: 487 words

It was Christmas Eve Eve… and Clay and his girlfriend waited until now to get presents for everyone. Well, it wasn’t voluntary. They had been so busy lately, and they couldn’t make the time for it. Sure, they had ordered some things online, and they could technically just hire people to get the stuff for them. However, they always loved doing it together, especially for the ones they care about.

“C’mon!” she exclaims, rushing to the entrance. Clay just huffs and walks his normal pace.

“And why are you running, exactly?” he questions.

“If anyone is doing what we are, and I will bet money there’s at least someone… we need to be quick. Most of the good stuff is probably gone, anyways.”

He sighs, stopping her just as they step inside, cupping her face in his hands. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about anything, love,” he reassures her, his voice that comforting tone that always made her a puddle in his arms. “You know I can get whatever we need, whenever we need it.”

“I know, just…”

He shushes her with his finger to her lips, “No buts. Just enjoy the experience. That’s why we’re here, right?”

She nods slightly, taking a deep breath, “Thank you, Clay…” she says quietly; he always grounded her, and she most definitely needed that right now.

He smiles. “You’re welcome.”

And so they were off, visiting the different stores and buying things for friends, co-workers… pretty much anyone on their list. They somehow landed in a jewelry store, and she gasped as she took in the most beautiful necklace, admiring the delicate and lavish piece.

Clay—ever the observer—rested his chin on her shoulder, looking at it as well. “It is indeed quite beautiful,” he says, “but I don’t think anyone on our list could possibly pull it off.”

“Don’t be mean,” she retorts, rolling her eyes, “and I-”

“You could pull it off.”

“Wait, no! I was just looking!-”

“Excuse me? I’d like this one.”

Before she could even stop him, it was already purchased. He smirked at her, knowing that he already won, even though her face was flushed and frustration on her face.

“Clay, I told you, I was just looking!”

“You were clearly in love with it,” he contorts, “it’s not hard to tell. I know what you like, princess. It was perfect for you, made for you only.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you telling me…”

“That it was a statement piece? Unique and the only one of its kind? Yes.”

“Clay!”

“I had it made for you,” he interrupted, making her stop. “I just wanted them to keep it here until we came. I wanted to see if you’d be attracted to it. And, as we have seen… you were, extremely.”

She was completely speechless, unknowing of what to say. He chuckled, leaning in and kissing her on the lips. “You’re going to pay me back later.”

“But wouldn’t that count as a Christmas present?”

“Maybe. But you’re still paying me back…” he murmurs, “…how about Victoria’s Secret, love?”

[spotsandsocks]

Hello lovely, what a wonderful idea, I couldn't resist a ❄️ as where I l8ve we get hardly any but could I also go for 🎅 and "kiss" please?

Hello there and thanks for visiting my inbox to help me spread some seasonal fluff. Kiss you said and kiss it is

Buck laughs when he opens his Secret Santa gift. He suspects it’s from Bobby because he has one the same. It’s become a bit of a thing in the team now; his apron collection, it’s up to 8 now. Always room for another one.

He likes this new one, models it for everyone and then takes it off carefully, folds it up and promises he’ll wear it when he cooks next.

He does wear it, it’s Christmas Eve and he’s cooking dinner for Eddie and Chris, now back where they both belong thank god.

Chris is in his room, Buck’s stirring his sauce carefully and Eddie’s behind him, technically being his assistant but mostly watching.

“You look good in an apron, especially that one.”

Buck turns to face Eddie who’s leaning against the worktop, arms folded. He looks like he’s thinking about something.

Buck looks down. It looks like an apron to him, silly words that have been printed in millions of aprons across the world.

“Do you think I should?”

Puzzled Buck frowns at his friend “should what?”

A slight smile in his face Eddie points towards Buck or more precisely his apron. He starts to move and if you wanted to be even more precise you could say he was looking at the letters on his chest.

Eddie stops in front of him. A finger touches each word as he answers the question.

“Kiss the cook”

Buck swallows mouth suddenly dry.

“Well? Should I?”

He can feel Eddie’s breath on his skin.

Trying to get some moisture back he licks his lips. Eddie’s eyes drop to watch him.

“Well it is on my apron and we are trained to follow orders so I guess we should probably do what it says or…”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence because Eddie is busy following the instructions on Buck’s best Christmas present ever.

Now ❄️ was for the Christmas fic words but I’m not sure you meant that one from the way it’s phrased so I’m thinking the other blue emoji was Christmas jumper so I’m taking a chance you meant that instead. So here you are 💜

And just in case it was words you wanted here’s a mistloe kiss from one of my early fic

“I guess everyone likes kissing huh Eds?” Better he congratulated himself for getting closer to the key topic.

Then in a genius move he added, “its supposed to be bad luck if you don’t kiss under it you know.”

Eddie had remained quiet through his educational broadcast on Christmas’ most famous plant. At this point all he seemed capable of was a quite

“Oh”

Eddie was looking at him with rapt attention, looking at him in the way Buck liked so very much.

He took the plunge “in our line of work I don’t think we should risk it do you?” He offered it as a question wanting to let Eddie choose as he made his intentions clear. His hand only trembled a little as he cupped Eddie’s chin, bravely letting his thumb lightly trace Eddie lower lip. His eyes flickering between Eddie’s mouth and eyes broadcasting his thoughts.

[fallenisded]

Baby, it’s cold outside…

Pairing: Sunarin x an absolutely downbad (writer) barista!reader <3

a/n: what is up chat, its been two years since i last posted a little something. Im going through it.. 🫠 And tumblr sunarinxreader tag is lacking right now,,, so here’s a little something while an exam thats going to determine my future is literally just a week away :3

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

The soft chime of the bell that hung above the door signals the departure of the last customer of the warm, coffee scented cafe. You stood behind the counter and thanked the stars internally. That guy has been sitting in the corner for hours since he first came, thank god he finished whatever he has going on with him.

“Oh, he finally left huh?” The Manager came out of his little camping spot and chuckled softly when he saw his only still checked barista deflated at the same spot they stood at, completely drained from acting all cheery for service. “You betcha he left. If not, I would have forced him out myself by blasting Mariah Carey obnoxiously.”

Right after saying that, it came back as quickly to bite your ass. A tall lanky guy entered the cafe, with that stupid jingle of a chime that you’ve heard more that you can count on for the entire day today. Looks like the poor barista really needed to blast Mariah Carey now. You really looked like you wanted to choke the living daylights out of..oh wait..why is he kinda…

“Hi, sorry. This place isn’t closing anytime soon right?” Well, technically no, because they would close at 10. Now let’s take a look at the time, oh! It’s 9:48. Yeah, totally. Just when they were going to open your mouth to answer the gorgeously handsome, jaw dropping man that seemingly just came out of a romance shoujo, the manager cut you off by a second. “Don’t worry, we can still serve one last customer,” What the fuck.

“Thanks, can I have a mint macchiato? Hot,” A mint macchiato. At 9:48 at night. On Christmas Eve. Just who is this man? The manager immediately enters in the order without even a slight hesitation. “And to who?” You could practically see yourself banging your head onto the coffee machine. Is this really a good idea, Mr Manager??

“Suna,” Okay nevermind. Not only is his appearance an eye candy, even his name sounds hot. “Alright, our lovely barista here will call out to you when they’re done with your drink,” the receipt machine prints out the paper slip after this greek carved Suna taps his card onto the card reader. You glared at the manager when he mentioned you, muttering curses underneath your breath as you positioned yourself at the coffee machine to make the espresso. 

The familiar aroma of the espresso beans filled your senses as you grumpily clicked the filter onto the machine, letting it brew. You got out the proper cup and drizzled it in peppermint syrup. Getting out the milk from the fridge to make the foam, you noticed Suna was watching your every movement over the little glass panel that separated the two of you. Most of the time, this would be called creepy. But when it’s him, it’s strangely flustering. Could you imagine a drop dead gorgeous guy is just watching over you as you make his drink? There’s just something so intimate and domestic about it.

“S-Suna,” You stuttered out after assembling the drink. The flustering got to you. After this, you are going to clock out and this embarrassing act of yours is going to haunt you until the next day of Christmas. Suna’s cold fingers accidentally grazed onto yours when he went to get his MINT MACCHIATO, letting you get goosebumps everywhere. He’s abnormally cold. Must’ve been outside. Who are we kidding, of course it’s outside. “Thanks,” And he seemed to catch their stutter with that disgustingly dreamy smirk of his. He brings the cup to his slightly chapped lips to take a sip, satisfied with the taste, he lets out a sigh that looks like it was kept inside for too long. 

Instead of moving to sit at one of the many comfortable seats that’s prepared for the participants, he just stood there, leaning on the self-collecting counter like he’s taking a photo for a modelling agency. The manager was long forgotten about as these two just stood there in silence while Suna enjoyed his drink. 

For the barista, it felt awkward to watch a man they found so attractive drinking the drink they made.

For Suna Rintarou? He liked watching the expressions and how awkward they can get even though they were grumpy while prepping his drink for him. He found it adoring.

He didn’t know what made him rush into the cafe. But what he does know is how much this barista attracted him when he saw them all deflated on the counter when he stood outside the cafe, on his phone with an annoying twin on the other line. With snow landing in his fluffy brown hair and on the shoulder’s of his coat.

“Tsumu, I’ll call you back later. This person is pretty cute,” That was all he said before hanging up.

“Sorry if I stopped you from going back home. I know it’s Christmas Eve and all.”

“Huh?”

Suna turned around to face you properly, he locked eyes with you, making your breath hitch. Holy fuck, his eyes are so beautiful.

“Excuse me?” HIs voice dragged them out of your own head. Wait, why does his face seem a little more flushed than before?

“You just called me beautiful..?” He chuckled softly. This time, it was your turn to feel your cheeks get warmer. Ding, you just said your thoughts out loud. You just dug your own little grave of embarrassment. “Oh my god.”

================================================

a/n: WOOOOOOO I FINISHED TYPING THIS IN AN HOUR GRWAWWWWWWW

[sirwadewilsonfromimgur]

Deadpool and Wolverine: KCAU Christmas Special

[Authors note: it is a Christmas miracle that I got this chapter out today... Merry Christmas! The next chapters will still be Christmas themed well into the new year]

Part 3

The flight was nice, and it was pleasant to not be molested by the TSA and hobble around waiting for them to finish looking at Greg's Cain. Always annoying, what could anyone possibly sneak in a cain that wasn't an already affective weapon other than the cain itself! And don't say a sword because those cheap things can ba spotted a mile away everyone knows your gothy cain with a cobra head handle has a long knife on the end of it we here it clanging every step you take.

Ellie picked them up at the Wheeler airport, excited to see her bother and his friend.

She was right there on the tarmac. The second James was off the plane, she jumped, grabbed him in a hug, and spun him around with a strength one wouldn't suspect from the 6 foot tall women of average looking build.

I've missed you so much! Though you did spoil my fun. I was going to kidnap you myself if you didn't show up! I even had a big bag picked out, I was going to put you in!

I hope it was a nice one. You know how burlap is chaffing.

It was a big red Santa bag... wanted to be festive for dad!

Ellie was always playfully teasing of her brother... typical of most siblings... but in career and personality, she more openly took after their father Wade. Ellie was a premier assassin and jr executive of MFM "the Family business" Ellie was in charge of the black ops devision, doing "wet work" for world governments that want culpable deniability when someone turns up dead. Ellie loved her job, her dad's, and her brother and sister... everyone else should probably live in fear.

Greg looked at her, Ellie was of darker complexion than James. but in the face, you could tell they were related, James had told him that technically, she was his half-sister... but they never regard each other as such. That was his sister full stop, they grew up together and only ever knew Wade and Logan as parents.

In a bubble gum sweet voice, she informed James and Greg that this year was going to be a blowout!

It's going to be great this year, little brother Aunt Vanessa and Dermot, Uncle Colossus, Peter, Jeff, Laura, Warhead, Yukio, Dopender, Father Kurt, and Uncle Morph are all going to be at Christmas eve dinner. Dad is making his famous Lasagna and Papa cought two pheasants with his bare fucking hands for Christmas day dinner it was amazing! Don't worry, Greg. we'll have prime rib for Christmas dinner as well if you find the bird to gamey.

Wait... circle back... Uncle Morph is going to be in town... will he be staying the night?

They got him a room at the Westin Crown Center... why?

You know why!

Oh.... ooohhhh, ha! I guess Dad and Papa really are going to have a Merry Christmas.

What's wrong with having your uncle Morph staying the night? ... and why do half of the people mentioned have weird names? Morph, Warhead, Colossus?

Morph's birth name is Kevin... he just doesn't like to use it... and frankly, dads not a fan it either, so that's what we all call him. Just a preference. As for why it's a concern... I'll tell you later.

Don't be so shy, James. You brought him home for Christmas, so he must be family... its ok if he knows that our parents and uncle Morph fuck nasty any time he's in town.

Jesus christ, Ellie! You know how uncomfortable talking about them like that makes me. *visibly shudders*

I can't help that our parents are possibly the hornie-est men to ever walk the earth! Might as we joke about it.

Well, that totally makes sense about James then.

I don't like where you're going with this House!

What, the offspring of concupiscent old men is clearly bothered by overt sexuality because he, in truth. has had three divorces because he can't keep it in his perverbial pants!

I knew i liked you Greg! *laughs loudly*

I'm not a psychologist, but it sounds like he's got you nailed down, little brother

As she said this, she turned the car into the driveway of the tower they'd both called home. She again let out a chuckle when she saw in the rear view mirror the deep shade of red James was currently blushing.

One park place hadn't changed much. At least not in a way one could detect. The on-site security was now directly contracted through MFM at very reasonable rates, and every floor had been fitted with bomb resistant glass... at least since "the incident" in 2058... Logan and Wade had paid through the teeth for that little upgrade. But other than that, they were actually at peace with their neighbors. 700 W 31st Street was probably the second most secure building in the city. The only one more secure being the Federal Reserve Bank building down the street. Things were going well until they got to the 19th floor, and Greg triped James coming out of the elevator.

My dad probably saw that! Ass!

Saw what! I don't know what you're talking about. Also, are you gonna run to your daddy all week with your problems?

He's actually probably right... there are security cameras... this is the most secure floor in the building. Just our place and neighbor Dave... you're cute, Greg, but I'd take it easy joshing with your boyfriend... dad wouldn't hesitate to shoot you point blank if he thinks you're a threat to one of his babies.

He's not my boyfriend...

Sure James....

See what I have to deal with Ellie!? He breaks my heart!

They approached the ornate double doors that lead into the condo... Penthouse would be a better description. They were actually new. A veneer of teak wood covering inch thick steel with intricate carvings of bullets, swords, claws, guns, and battle scenes. It looked like it belonged on the front of a temple dedicated to God's of war and violence... Ellie put a key in the door, unlocked it, and opened it.

My babies! ... and some guy? *Sniff* Why do you smell a little like Wade!?

No sooner than they had passed the threshold like a flash Logan was on all fours running at them. Closing the distance, he pounced arms wide open, knocking all three on the ground. Sniffing them and kissing their cheeks, Logan allowed himself to go a little feral and play rough with his kits. It was the holiday season after all... The fact that Gregory was caught in the crossfire knocked on his ass into the dog pile was another problem entirely!

For the love of god, please get off my leg!

Logan stood up and helped Greg to his feet. James handed him his cain as Greg quickly pulled out a pill bottle from his jacket pocket and dry swallowed three pills.

By this time, Wade had already walked up to them.

Sorry about my husband. He's very excited to see all of you. I hope you're ok... If you're not, I hope Kitten had you sign the traditional family liability release forms...

Is that a thing now?

It's not Kitten. Wade extended a hand to Greg... he'd slipped a hundred dollars in his hand by way of apology... I know who you are! It's nice to finally meet you, James talks an unhealthy amount about you. I always did like a guy named Hugh. He said, winking at us.

*Confused* my name is Gregory House, Mr. Wilson.

Sure, it is sun-shine, also Ick don't call me that... it's Wade, or Deadpool if ya nasty...

Leaving Greg to deal with pleasantries by himself, Jams grabbed his and House's Bags. Turned right and walked down the halway like he'd done thousands of times in the past. He detected the faint smell of cigar smoke as he walked past the office. It triggered a little nostalgia. It smelled like his dad Logan and the bear hugs he'd given him when he was a child. He always fet safe in the man's massive arms... truth be told for all the madness of his father's... James always felt safe at home. They were a danger to themselves and definitely others... but not him. They'd do anything for him. He was always quietly grateful for that aspect of his childhood.

He'd walk all the way down the hall... last door on the left. His room, the room he was born in, as a matter of fact. Apart from being immaculately clean, it was just as he'd left it since he moved out. It was December. The sun was already setting over the horizon... soon, the automatic blackout curtains would come down and block the entire east wall of his room made entirely of floor to ceiling windows.

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Before that though the golden glow reflected off the fresh snow was brilliant. In the distance he could make out the top of the massive tree in the heart of crown center. The view is bitter sweet... he remembers loving christmas as a kid... it was the only time for sure that both his dad's were home and "Santa" never held back... it was always an embarrassment of riches... now... now christmas was exhausting... there was never enough time, and Wade Wilson didn't exactly loose his zeal, he got older and leaned more into to christmas... James knew he was due to get roped into a big family Christmas sooner or later... he skipped the last two Christmases... his dad face timed him so that he was sure to see the tears...

He tossed the bags on the ridiculously large Texas king bed... he'd unpack later, unless Mrs. Mangracina, the ancient cleaning lady who'd been working there since before he was born, decided to do it... not one of her official responsibilities, but she did shit like that anyway... she fancied herself a butler for the family at times. to James, she was more of a second grandma, only Italian flavored... she and his grandma Al were actually pretty close. They'd go to bingo and Mass at Our Lady of Perpetual Help Catholic Church on Broadway. She'd confided in the family that she lost her best friend when Althea passed... James fully expected her to be there at Christmas Eve dinner, not as an employee but as a guest and member of the family. A lot of people were going to be there...

If Luara was going to be here she'd take up the guest room... no one was allowed in Grandma's room since she'd passed away... house was in For a surprise... they'd be sharing a bed this week.

Later that night at dinner, Gregory had pulled all of his usual antics and made himself look like a perfect ass... he'd eaten food off James's plate... to the point of just straight-up switching plates with him. telling embarrassing stories and wildly inappropriate jokes at the table... the only people laughing, being Wade and Ellie. They didn't realize what kind of gasoline they were throwing on the fire by encouraging him... or maybe they did. Agents of chaos the both of them. Logan was stoic in the face of it as usual, while Laura actually popped her claws and announced that's enough when she thought Greg punched James a little too hard when he was punctuating a joke at his expense.

The perfect start to a week that was guaranteed to get more chaotic... shortly after Greg and James retired to his bedroom...

James had already showered and settled in to bed with a book when Greg exited the bathroom in his pajamas.

What the fuck is that!

Pointing on at the grayish blue ball of wrinkles cuddling on the bed...

It's Merry, Greg. Do you need an MRI you saw my dad feeding here when we had dinner...

Sorry, let me rephrase. Why the fuck is that... specifically why is it in the bed... Marry has always slept with me since I was little... you didn't let Hector in the Bed?

I didn't... hold on... how old is that dog?

Well, my parents had her before I was born... so tack on a few years, I'd say 47 give or take.

That's impossible...

She's like my Dad's... I'm not a hundred percent certain she can die. My Aunt Vaness told me that Mary is an alternate universe version of my dad, Wade... that's why she's always been close with me... I'm her puppy.

Kitten... puppy... you got any more weird pet names?

Why... you feeling romantic?

Greg looked at James with disgust and then shot a look at the dog with less disgust and more incredulity. Quickly changing the subject.

Thats cute and all, but I'm going to sleep on the couch. I can't have a dog jumping on me or you kicking me...

*Sigh* Greg, this bed is so big it'd take effort to kick you... but also, I promise you'd be less comfortable out there. Unless you got ear plugs.

Why?

this is the best room for the noise you can't hear anything on this side of the condo... you don't want to be within ear shot of the Master bedroom here in about an hour... even with all the soundproofing... Also, having guests in the house doesn't always stop them from fighting.

They fight, every night?

Like clock work... some nights are worse than others, sometimes they throw things... I'm almost certain they throw each other across the room. But that's not the worst of it... first comes the screams of pain... and then... I can't believe I'm saying this much less thinking about it... the screams of Ecstasy...

They fight as foreplay?

Yes, and I haven't been ok since I was 15 and figured that out... if my Grandma was still alive, she'd go into great detail about how they used to be worse.

Wait, isn't the guest room next to their room?

Laura Went to a bar, she won't be home until their *gags* done.

Fine... you and your rodent mother scoot over.

Careful how you talk to Mary... she's smarter than most people give her credit for...

Noted, I guess since she's your mom, she's in here chaparoning... so hands above the blankets tonight.

He winked at the dog, who shockingly winked back. Greg shook his head as he got into bed using a few extra pillows to build a barricade between his bad leg and Wilson who despite how big the bed was, is a notorious sleep kicker.

We'd better get some sleep... it's going to be a long week.

Wilson turned out the lights and slowly sleep overcame them.

[katsona-the-katsequel]

Hiyah! Do you have any Persona fic recs? 👀

Long ago I made a Rec List, but that's lost to the abyss of Tumblr's awful search mechanism, so here's a new one. You didn't specify, so I included a little of every game. Each game is indicated by a specific color: 🟠 for P2 (both of them), 🔵 for P3, 🟡 for P4 and 🔴 for P5. Each one of these fics really stayed with me for a reason, so I heavily recommend you at least give them a chance.

Dust in the Air Suspended by @stealthnoodle 🟠

The dead timeline lives on, and Katsuya Suou stubbornly persists in it. His brother is determined to do better.

Gardenia by LunaDePlata 🟠

Jun can't sleep, and neither can his thoughts. A short vent piece.

heaven by [Orphan :(] 🟠

Lisa didn’t understand how Tatsuya could trust Jun so easily while she still woke from nightmare after nightmare of Joker’s piercing stare and twisted grin. She didn’t understand the pain in her chest when she saw the two of them linger at one another’s side, either.

under the mask by gaytimetraveller 🟠

Joker grants wishes, Joker receives calls (not always pleasant), Joker despairs.

maybe Death wants to be saved, too by @senblades 🔵

In December of 2009, Makoto Yuki slits Death’s throat in his bedroom. --- In January of 2010, Makoto Yuki meets an odd boy in a yellow scarf, haunting the entrance to Gekkoukan like a phantom. (The world is ending, and all Ryoji Mochizuki can do is watch)

No Ghosts, No Mistletoe by @stealthnoodle 🔵

If anyone asks, Junpei is technically spending Christmas Eve with a girl. It's just not anything like a date.

Threnody by @laora-ryn 🔵

In February, Nozomi shares a meal with Minato. [You know,” Minato says suddenly, “I had a twin sister.”]

All That Remains by @laora-ryn 🔵 ft. 🟡🔴

An exploration of the end of Persona 3, its aftermath, and those he left behind.

Equal or Lesser Value by Lisse 🔵 ft. 🟡

The wrong family dies on Moonlight Bridge.

A Barrel in the Sea by signalbeam 🟡

Post-game. Yukiko tells her parents about her relationship with Chie, and after the resulting fight, takes refuge in the Dojima residence.

First Impressions (Seventeen Variations) by jackdawq 🟡

It sucks to be the new transfer kid. Right?

Fusion Inheritance by @rabbitprint 🟡

In your first life, you're an asshole. There's no other way to describe it; even you would call it that.

I Have My Dead by signalbeam 🟡

Eight letters written from the Investigation Team to their families in the event of their deaths.

sentence by @corvus-corvus 🟡

Adachi rises to the balls of his feet for a better view. Yu knows they’re visiting a woman from the case files, but it’s only when Adachi mimes an exaggerated whistle that he knows it’s going to be a problem. "She told us to leave and we have other witnesses.” Yu holds out a light. Adachi breathes smoke until it ghosts over the beating sun. “She doesn’t know that.”

Lost Kingdoms by jackdawq 🟡 ft. 🔵

Every girl in Inaba likes Teddie; Port Island's no different.

A Year To Fill An Empty Home by @lostozian 🔴

The officer who came to explain the terms of the probation had a sad smile on his face the whole way through. He seemed like he was trying to be sympathetic at first, telling them about the mandatory school transfer and the probation terms, but when he got to the part about “removing Akira-kun from bad influences,” Chou couldn’t see the smile as anything less than sadistic. “I know you’re facing a lot of pain right now, Kurusu-san,” the officer had said. “But perhaps better parenting would have helped Akira-kun know that he shouldn’t assault people in the street.” OR, Takeshi and Chou Kurusu aren't bad people. They never stopped loving their son, not for a single second.

Falsities by Raaj 🔴

They keep saying you were sold out by a teammate. You can’t remember which one.

Killing Hope by Raaj 🔴

Akechi stops by Leblanc once after assassinating Amamiya, looking to find the last Phantom Thief.

Stumbling on the Chopping Block by vivvav 🔴

Even after Yaldabaoth leaves, the executions go on.

The Trickster's World by vivvav 🔴

The game has not played out how he imagined it would. Could the Trickster actually prevent humanity's ruin? Is it possible that Ren Amamiya truly poses a threat to his ascension? Only a journey into the boy's Cognition will tell.

marigolds by colbub 🔴 ft. 🔵🟡

Akechi meets a mysterious being chained to a door after death and gains a second chance.

Reflections by @senblades 🔵🟡🔴

In the space between dreams, there's time to think. And so, the attendants reflect; on the tragedies and triumphs their guests have left in their wake. On the saviour, the seeker, and the tricksters, and what facets of humanity they supposedly held in their depths. ___ The Velvet Room is a place of guidance. But what purpose does a guide serve once their role is complete?

Smart Kid by [Orphan :(] 🔵🔴

A troubled kid is brought into Officer Sanada Akihiko's office in the juvenile department, and Akihiko does his best to set him on the right path.

[viric-dreams]

The Brass Embassy

After several months of correspondence back and forth with his "surface fiancée," Suzette, the pair finally receive word from their boss to meet together to discuss an upcoming mission .

Jones is running uncharacteristically late, and rushes in the door seconds after its start only to come face-to-face with the man he'd drunkenly hooked up with on Christmas Eve, in the midst of his post-breakup morality crisis. Despite how alcohol-hazed the memories are, that's clearly got to be him, because he's making the exact same face as he is right now from the moment the first word left Jones' mouth. This is Suzette?

If "Suzette" was a part of the Game, then maybe he was put in his path to spy on him, to keep a close eye on his movements when he'd started slipping at work those weeks in December. He knew he was on thin ice with the Game since this start. Moreover, he'd asked "Suzette" for information on an entirety personal matter, Elias Leroux and their connection to the Chessboard. It's technically a grey zone, but a misuse of Game resources could also be seen as a blunder. They could be preparing to take him off of the board again after all, as they'd once threatened.

"Suzette," as it turns out, is named Shaw.

Their boss is explaining their mission, but he's not listening to a word she's saying, still trying to figure out what the angle here is. When their boss leaves and they're alone, well, he's a professional, isn't he? They jump straight into work.

Jones does not do field missions. It is not his forte and the Game knows this. The reason, it turns out, he's been dragged in here is his connection to the diplomats of the Brass Embassy. He and Shaw are in charge of extracting sensitive documents from the Embassy.

It doesn't take long to discover that the two of them work spectacularly well together. They seem to seamlessly be able to operate on exactly the same wavelength. Putting personal mistrust aside (and again, he will, because he's a professional), he's able to work with Shaw so easily and comfortably.

He can't ignore the mistrust forever, however. It's two day later when they're on their surveillance mission that he finally breaks. Jones does not do well with silence. They make it an hour in before he's finally forced to ask. Did Shaw know? Did he know who he was when they'd slept together?

Shaw seems thrown by the question. He didn't, he insists. Or at least that's what Jones thinks he's saying, his usual diction is suddenly hard to parse. Jones finds that he believes it. Perhaps it really was some strange coincidence.

They find their target, The Brimstone-Scented Attaché, but they're too quick for the two of them to act and the Attaché disappears into the Embassy.

Rather than an ambush, the Mission has now become a heist. They're going to need to infiltrate the Brass Embassy. This is absolutely not what Jones signed up for. But Shaw seems to know what he's doing, and despite his initial personal misgivings, he trusts Shaw on a professional level.

Their entry goes well. Jones' social engineering gets them through the door with minimal trouble. All seems to be going according to plan, and they should be able to locate the documents and leave before they're spotted.

At least that was the plan. Fate, however, seemed to have other ideas, and the pair find themselves locked in a break room trying to plan an escape before the devil can alert security. The whole time, a jazz ballad blares from the gramophone in the corner, adding to the dissonance of the situation. The music is making it hard to think.

He doesn't like how still Shaw is, clearly thinking when they should be doing... something. He, however, does not intend to stick around long enough for that door to open again, because the prospect that waits on the other side is a one way trip back to prison, sans trial. He spent fourteen years in a cell and does not intend to spend a minute longer. He makes this clear to Shaw as he opens a third story window.

The shimmy across the building's ledge is precarious, but he's able to make it to an adjacent window of an empty room and unlock the door from the outside. They know where the briefcase is located. They need to get it and get out as quickly as possible. Except...

Jones needs to make a detour back into the room. He catches up with Shaw soon enough though.

They get the suitcase and run for it, run as fast as they possibly can out the door and down alleyways, hoping the treachery of London's streets will aid them in dodging their pursuers.

What feels like ages later, they come to a stop, breathless. They did it. They succeeded. Jones holds the briefcase in his hand, contemplating the innocuous weight of it, compared to the sheer weight of the information it contains. He's part way through saying something when a voice stops him in his tracks.

The Brimstone-Scented Attaché stands in the mouth of the alleyway, knife pressed up against Shaw's throat. Hand over the briefcase.

He's not sure what happens next. He has the gun in his hand. Shaw's saying something to him but he can't make out any of the words. He knows he has to take the shot. Or to run. To ensure the briefcase stays in his possession at any cost. But he can't. He's frozen to the cobblestones, cycling through hundreds of options, everything that could go wrong. Shaw's mouth is moving but he can't hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears. Then Shaw jerks and the devil recoils with a howl. It happens so fast he barely registers what's happening. There's Shaw, on top of them, driving a knife into their body again and again until the devil finally stops moving.

There's something within the papier-mâché skin, trying to crawl out, and Jones comes back to himself, grabbing the body and dragging it out of eyesight of any passersby whilst Shaw stomps on any of the bees that attempt to emerge. He moves on autopilot, dismembering the skinsuit, whilst crushing any bees that get within range. When he turns around again, he notices Shaw looking at him, a bloodied handkerchief pressed against his neck. The undercurrent of discomfort is palpable. When he ultimately speaks, his voice is quiet. What happened back there?

There's no hiding from this. He knew this might happen the moment they decided to send him into the field. He's not cut out for this, and his deficiency has consequences. Regardless of what those may be, he owes Shaw honesty. That's the only way to be able to successfully work together.

I'm sorry. I panicked. There was... so much happening. And it would've been so easy to miss. And then there were the implications of killing them, of not killing them, of killing you. I... I froze. I'm sorry for that. It's not professional, and there's no good excuse for it. There's a reason I'm not usually in the field. He hopes it's enough.

No, no. It's alright... It was quite overwhelming. Shaw doesn't appear judgmental, nor angry. If anything... worried. Either way, It’s been handled - and wouldn’t have been able to do all that if they hadn’t been focused on you. So, try not to dwell on it.

He tries. It's only then that he realises just how blood-soaked Shaw's handkerchief has gotten. No chemical, Neathy or surface-sourced could possibly save it at this point. He takes out his own, offering it to Shaw. It's only at this moment that Shaw appears to become aware of the extent of the injury. Perhaps he should get home. Jones can walk him there, he doesn't live so far, from what he recalls, though Jones only has a vague recollection of where (he tries not to think of why he has this knowledge).

He slips his arm around Shaw, and pulls him close, carefully tilting his hat to cast the bloodstained collar of his shirt into shadow. To the casual observer they would simply look like a couple enjoying an evening stroll. Shaw leans into the illusion, up until the point they arrive at his front door. It's clear from the shift in the air that he remembers the last time they were both here. Jones wishes him a good evening, set to turn around and dispose of the body more permanently. They can have their post mortem after they've both slept.

It's only when Shaw pulls away from his side that Jones feels the bump of the object against his torso and remembers.

Wait, hold on. Slowly, he slides the pilfered record out from the inner lining of his jacket and presents his ill-gotten gains to Shaw, using force of will to keep his face perfectly blank.

Shaw breaks into delirious laughter.

[ineededacentralblog]

hbo war secret santa

hi @dylaneon !! i’m happy to finally reveal your (first) oneshot for the exchange :) happy holidays and i hope this is what you were wanting!! there may be more to come ✨ it’s technically christmas day in my time zone, so i hope this brightens yours (if you celebrate) :)

wc: 2014

red noses

It’s the third mother with a sick child she’s seen this shift. Gail’s taking the vitals of a little boy in blue wintery pajamas. He’s practically falling asleep on her and she can’t blame him with a fever of 101 degrees. The sloth of the evening is taking its toll on Gail, too; she found herself feeling more tired than she would during a busy shift.

The mother’s rambling on about holiday plans, stopping here and there to text the boy’s other parent updates. After a longer pause than usual, Gail looks over at her. She has a stricken look on her face.

“Oh my god, I just realized. You poor thing. I hope you’re not missing out on too much tonight.”

Gail smiles reassuringly at her. “Oh, no, ma’am. My cat and I will have Christmas when I get home. My mom and I had dinner last night, too. And of course the holiday pay doesn’t hurt.”

It’s an easy excuse to most people. They don’t know her mother.

It’s the same routine with most of the patients, get about halfway through her tasks, answer an invasive non-question, reassure them, finish up mostly in awkward silences and then go back to the nurses’ station. The ER is unseasonably slow, but it is her first Christmas working in Nowhere, Wisconsin. After 9 p.m., things taper off completely and she starts reading one of the waiting room People magazines absentmindedly.

A few minutes later the metal push-door slams closed loudly. It startles her out of a mind-numbing article about Austin Butler’s dating life. It must be a truly off night for Gail because the first thing she notices is how gorgeous the woman who just walked in is. The second thing she notices is the blood gushing from her nose onto a green cloth napkin. Altogether, the scene is somewhat festive.

The woman unceremoniously deposits her arms on the desk. Gail doesn’t cringe at the bloody cloth being closer to her own face.

“Hey, doll,” She grins across the counter. Her smile is no less charming for the blood in between her teeth. “I don’t really know what you guys do for a bloody nose, but my ma dropped me off. It’ll be a nightmare to get an Uber here in this ice, so you can look it over, or I can watch TikTok in the corner ‘til one a’ my brothers can pick me up.” Gail can’t tell if the girl is really from New York (New Jersey, maybe?) through the painful-sounding nasal tone to her voice.

Gail jumps up from her spot behind the desk and motions to one of the open cots.

“Have a seat and I can get you a clipboard to fill out.” She smiles reassuringly. There’s no teeth obviously missing or anything broken. Maybe it was a disastrous attempt at a pie-smashing.

“Sorry, my voice is weird right now. I’m not seeing a doctor.” She’s still smiling but there’s a protective edge to her voice.

“No, you’ll probably see a nurse to start.”

Her smile wavers.

“I was just being polite.”

“It’s policy.” Gail responds with her best customer service brightness.

She takes the clipboard with a blood-stained hand.

“Thanks, doll.”

It sounds less sleazy than it does from the old men who come in here, even with the sharpness in her tone.

A few minutes later she brings the clipboard back to the desk.

“Here’s your clipboard.” She’s a bit more sunny again. “This is probably out of network.”

“We have someone on staff who can help you with the claim. You can see them right after we’re done here, or you can come back in when the holidays are over.”

“I sure as shit ain’t coming back. Not for that, anyway.”

That isn’t… This woman bears a disturbing resemblance in attitude to so many of the men that come in here with sick kids, injured wives and somehow still have the bandwidth to hit on her. Sometimes it’s disheartening how much horniness prevails even in the face of what’s close to the worst thing to happen on a holiday.

“I’ll be right with you.” She motions back to the cot and the woman goes.

Gail scans the forms quickly, taking note of the important details. Gail makes a face at Bennie as she stashes the paperwork in the filing drawer. Bennie shrugs and goes back to her typing.

She makes her way over to the occupied cot and drags a vitals cart with her.

“Jane Egan?”

She was shielding her eyes now. That could be a bad sign.

“That’s me. Just don’t call me Jane.”

“Ms. Egan?”

“God, no. It’s Bucky, please.”

Bucky was getting more interesting by the second.

“So what brings us in today?”

“I thought nurses were brighter than that. Then again, you are blonde.”

They’re gonna be here all night if she treats her with her best bedside manner.

“Tell me like I’m five.” She says as she sets up all the equipment. Bucky at least seems to know how to act for the machines.

“The nose that’s gushing blood like a goddamn broken faucet.” She leans her head back and squeezes the bridge some more.

“Actually, if you can lean your head forward,” Gail gently guides her head forward and gives her a wad of gauze to replace the soaked napkin. She gently guides her other arm down to rest at her side for the blood pressure read. She can wait on blood oxygen for now.

“I am prone to head injuries as well. But a volleyball hits a hell of a lot harder than that jackass.”

“What was the cause of the injury?”

“A fist. Pretty fucking simple. If you have eyes.”

Gail could see why someone would feel the urge to punch Bucky. But it was a shame with a face that would be pretty with less blood.

“And this is just routine, but do you feel safe at home?”

Bucky laughs deep in her throat but winces as the sound comes out her nose.

“That’s a complicated question, considering it was my father’s fist that caused this mess. But just put down ‘yes’, I’ll be outta here in a week anyways.”

Gail’s pen hovers above her notepad. Now, despite the assholery, she can tell this woman’s smart. She knows the regulations. She knows Gail has to report anything she hears. Either she wants Gail to report this, or it’s entirely possible she does have a concussion.

Bucky’s still talking.

“I’m just here for Christmas, y’know. I’ll be back on base soon, surrounded by men who dream of being Tom Cruise in Top fucking Gun. Which is fucking stupid because they’re Air Force and god knows they couldn’t handle the Gs.”

Bucky’s either very drunk, very concussed, or very loose-lipped. Gail thought that last one wasn’t usually a preferred quality in the military.

Bucky’s heart rate is high, which isn’t typical for someone who can clear a flight physical. She’s rambling on about something else now.

“Have you consumed alcohol or drugs recently? This won’t go beyond this emergency room, so you can answer honestly.”

“No drugs, but a shitton of alcohol. Y’know how Christmas is.”

Gail blinks the sting out of her eyes and shoves the echo of her father’s drawl to the back of her mind.

“Right. We’re gonna have to send you for a CT. We can do that here, so that’ll be done right away. If that’s inconclusive we’re gonna have to wait ‘til you sober up to do some other tests.”

Bucky mutters a curse under her breath.

“Let’s check on that nose first, the bleeding should have stopped by now.”

Gail takes the gauze away and it seems the bleeding’s ebbed. She leaves Bucky alone for a moment to order the CT. Once that’s done and Bucky’s back, she settles down at her desk again to wait.

Bucky appears in front of her again.

“You guys don’t have any Playboy, do you?”

Gail considers violence for a moment. She sees Bennie snicker out of the corner of her eye. Her salvation enters in the form of a man walking through the door with an oddly twisted wrist. He’s in a suit and there’s a woman next to him looking worried. Gail waves him over to the desk but Bennie swoops in.

“I can take you guys over here.” Bennie says in that chipper customer service tone.

Gail sighs through her teeth.

“So, Playboy?”

“You’re not actually serious.” She glares, a warning.

“My phone died, so…” Bucky drums her fingers on the counter.

Gail pulls her own charger out of the port and puts it on the counter between them. Bucky inspects the connector and puts it down awkwardly.

“Shit,” She makes the one syllable last a lifetime. “I actually have an iPhone.” She smiles that smile that she must think is charming. “How long are we going to be waiting on that analysis?”

“It’ll be ready just as soon as the doctor’s had a chance to look it over.” Gail tries to look busy and for once actually misses the busy work of a hospital.

Bucky slides a deck of cards onto the counter, brushing the cord aside. Gail laughs before she can stop herself.

“Does that work on all the girls?” She is amused, she can give Bucky that.

“Only the ones stuck in the ER on Christmas Eve.”

“So you do this every year?”

“Only when I hear the pretty nurses are working.”

Gail rolls her eyes but takes the hand of cards when Bucky deals them.

After a couple rounds, Gail thinks she can get away with pressing further about the injury.

“How did you say this whole thing started?” She doesn’t look Bucky in the eye as she shuffles, she doesn’t want to spook her back into the weaponized persona she’d worn before.

Bucky laughs a little.

“That’s actually a long story. You’d have to go back about fifteen years to get the answer to that. Short answer is, I’m a little too much and my dad has a little too short of a temper. And mom thought it was easier to dump me here than have a conversation like actual fucking adults.”

Gail feels bad for her having thought the same thing at first.

“To be fair to your mom, it does seem like you’re bad at having actual conversations.” Gail hazards a tease.

Bucky smiles softer than before. “That’s true.”

Bennie comes out of the back room with a file folder.

“It looks like you’re good to leave, Ms. Egan. We’ll give you a form to send to your insurance company and then you can go.”

Gail feels a little disappointed. Bucky’s crass personality has started to grow on her. She hands the deck of cards back to her and goes to retrieve the form. When she comes back and hands it to Bucky, she finds the other woman looks almost shy.

“Thank you. And happy holidays.” She almost turns to go, but Gail stops her.

“We’re being polite now?” She asks, well aware of the goofy grin on her own face. She pauses a moment. The mood changes. “You’re not going back to your father’s house, are you?”

Bucky shrugs.

“I don’t have any other plans tonight. Might as well.” There’s something mischievous in her voice.

“My shift’s over at midnight. And there is an IHOP across the street.”

“Is a healthcare professional coming onto a patient right now? I’ll tell the board about this, you know.” Bucky looks at her like she’s serious but there’s a spark in her eyes.

“What board? Like you fucking know.”

Bucky laughs. “What was the turn on? Was it the daddy issues or the bleeding all over you?”

“If it was the bleeding, there might actually be ethical issues with my nursing.”

Bucky laughs again. Is Gail actually funny or is Bucky still trying too hard?

“I’ll get us a table, alright?”

“Okay.” Gail smiles at her, even once she’s out the door.

Nowhere, Wisconsin might have some perks.

[idoltimeyokai]

"RWARRRRRR MERRYYY CHRISTMASSS EVERYONEEE!!!

VERDEN HERE TO SAY I HOPE YOU HAVE/HAD A GREAT CHRISTMASS AND A HAPPY NEW YEARS

*Ahem* in all seriousness tho Merry Christmas to everyone inside and outside of PriPara!

Recently i got invited to perform for a Christmas live with @happyheartstar-blog and @virgoidolland. It was really really fun! Rolled a Nat20 on that fun for sure! I did my best not to get distracted by all the shiny gold, tho it was so hard to doooooo, i persevered tho! Yayy for me!

I personally dont have any big plans for Christmas inside or outside of PriPara myself, but i know I'll be having a good cozy Christmas with my dorm mates!

Annnyyywayyys ive rambled on for long enough, go enjoy your Christmas and make some good memories!" - Verden Komo [The Dragon of PriPara]

And in all seriousness from me, Octo, the actual peson behind this blog, i want to say Merry Christmas, Happy New Year's, and thanks for the warm reception so far from me joining and taking in part of this fandom!

Im posting this day of Christmas eve so technically its not Christmas yet but eh who cares.

Anyways, have a merry seasons greasons everyone!

[mainstream-deviant]

Secret Santa 2023!

Hello hello -

Well, it's the 11th hour on xmas eve (possibly literally, depending on your time zone), but I'm here, very technically on time! :P

My giftee for the @super-secret-conspiracy secret santa event was @kitsunefaux, who gave me a pretty wide-open request for Ryou and/or Bakura by preference, with a few shipping options. Tendershipping was first on that list, so here we are. I hope you enjoy me subjecting poor sweet Bakura to the joy of winter weather for your amusement. ;)

Fic Rating: G (or I guess T if a couple of F bombs count)

Fic is below, or on A03 here

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

“Come on!” 

“No.” There was a pause. “Oh, fuck right off with the pouting.” 

“Is it working, though?” 

“...No.” 

“Pleeeeeeaaaaase? It’s so nice out!” 

“Not it’s not, it’s fucking cold.” Another pause. A judgemental look down. “That’s the only reason you even got me into this monstrosity. It ends there.” 

“Except it doesn’t. People need to see!” 

“Lies.” A pause, then a deep, soul weary sigh.  

“I’ll get your scarf!” A beaming smile. 

“....I hate you so much.” 

---------- 

Even though Halloween was clearly the superior holiday, Ryou always appreciated a nice fresh snow right before the winter holidays. And he was rapidly discovering that it was all twice as entertaining when you have a boyfriend with no concept at all of winter to lovingly torture with it all. 

He still couldn’t quite believe he’d managed to convince Bakura into coordinating ugly christmas sweaters for the day. It was good to know just how far Bakura was willing to go in the quest for winter warmth; that would probably come in handy someday. But for now, he‘d take his small victory. Here they were, all bundled up – Bakura in a scarf and a hat and mittens, goodness it was only barely below freezing, what were they going to do when it got properly cold – and out to enjoy the lovely winter’s day. 

Despite his earlier grumbling, Ryou could tell that Bakura was enjoying himself. Bakura’s gaze was darting around, eyes suspiciously wide and sparkly for a man who was supposed to be annoyed. A thick fog had rolled through the day before, leaving a thick layer of hoarfrost clinging to every available surface in its wake. The frost glittered now against the bright blue sky, turning the world to crystal. Ryou tucked his hands around Bakura’s arm and leaned into his side.  

“See, it’s not so bad, is it? It’s beautiful out here.” 

“I admit nothing.” Bakura glanced over at Ryou with what was probably supposed to be a stern look, but he didn’t quite manage to hide a tiny grin. 

Ryou couldn’t help but roll his eyes a bit at that, though he gamely tried to hide it. “Of course you don’t.” He smiled. “Fine then. Just enjoy the scenery, you grouch. I should have found you a grinch sweater to match the sparkling holiday cheer.” 

“A tribute to the best thief of the holidays? I’d take it.” Bakura made no effort at all to hide his smirk this time. 

Ryou now rolled his eyes quite a lot, and enjoyed Bakura’s laugher at his side. They fell into silence as they walked down the path together, just enjoying the fresh winter air and sparkling frost for a while. Suddenly, Ryou tugged on Bakura’s arm.  

“Oh, look!” He pointed up the path. “It looks like someone’s been flooding a little ice patch. Let’s go slide around a bit!” 

Bakura went stiff beside him. “Not a chance.” 

“Oh, but it’ll be fun.” 

“Nope.” Bakura planted his feet. “It’s bad enough walking in snow, there’s no way you’re getting me sliding around like an idiot. You’re on your own.” 

“Even if moving around a bit more would help you stay warm?” 

Bakura squeezed his arm to his side, tugging Ryou’s hands more firmly into his side in the process, and smiled. “You’re doing a good enough job of that already, thanks.”  

“I see.” Ryou gave Bakura’s arm a squeeze and considered his options for a moment before smiling up at Bakura with an exaggeratedly angelic look.  

“Well, I’m glad to be of service and all, but your heater needs a break.” Fast as a viper, he snatched the hat off of Bakura’s head and bolted towards the ice, gliding smoothly across it to hop into the snow on the other side. “Your precious warmth is right here whenever you’d like it.” 

“What the fuck!” 

Ryou burst out laughing. Bakura looked so deeply offended.  

“Come and get it!” Ryou grinned and shook the hat as though trying to tempt a bull. “Surely the greatest thief of the last few millennia can steal back a hat? All that’s in the way is a teeny tiny patch of i-” The next words were cut off by a burst of hysterical laugher. “What was that?!” 

Bakura looked up from the ground, where he’d splayed himself out the moment he set foot on the ice. “Shut your f-AH!”  

Ryou had to bend right over he was laughing so hard. Bakura kept trying to get to his feet, but he couldn’t seem to manage more than half a second of traction before ending right back on the ground in a heap of awkward limbs. Eventually, he lay still on the ice, despondently spread-eagle, and turned pleading eyes on Ryou. That was about as close to a plea for help as he was ever likely to give, and Ryou managed to calm himself down enough to take pity on the poor man.  

“Ok, ok, let me show you how it’s don- eep!” 

Ryou blinked up at the sky, which was suddenly straight ahead. He lay on the ground for a few seconds of stunned silence before turning his head to look at Bakura, who was lying still next to him, stunned expression on his face. They stared at each other for a moment, before bursting into laughter again.  

“It serves you right! Justice!” Bakura punched a fist at the sky, but wisely didn’t try to get up again.  

“Yes yes, me and my big mouth.” Ryou reached over to stuff the hat back on Bakura’s head. “I think that’s our sign to head home and warm up.” 

“About time. Let’s get the hell out of here.”  

Ryou shimmied awkwardly off the ice, dragging Bakura along in his wake as best as he could. It wasn’t graceful, but they got there. They always did.  

---------- 

Ryou returned to the couch with hot chocolates in hand, and gratefully sank into Bakura’s side when he held the blanket open for him.  

“Here. Chocolate mint for me, and a dash of chili pepper for you. Only the best. Better?” 

“Yeah. Better.” Bakura shifted to help Ryou settle in, and pressed a kiss to his temple. “Remember this the next time you think it’s a good idea to go outside and freeze our asses off. We can skip straight to the good stuff next time.” 

“Oh, but you had a fun. I saw how you were staring at all the frost. Wasn’t it beautiful?” 

“And cold.” 

“Well yes, that’s how frost works.” Ryou took a sip of his drink with a happy sigh. “But it was a good day.” Ryou smiled up at Bakura, warm and content.  

“Yeah. A good day.” Bakura leaned his head over Ryou’s, and they let the warmth sink in.  

[insomniamamma]

Closing Time: Marcus Pike x F!reader

A/N: This is my first installment in my Year of Kisses themed creation challenge! I was invited to join the fun by @oonajaeadira and @yearofcreation2023! I have never really participated in anything like this so be gentle. This fic plays fast and loose with Marcus Pike canon. I wanted to write for our Perfect Boyfriend without watching seven something seasons of the mentalist. If Marcus is OOC that is entirely on me. Also Sherri is entirely based on a supervisor I had once. I loved that lady to pieces.

Warnings: Angst. Break ups. Language. Alcohol. Some drunken flirting and kisses. Reader has a truly shitty ex.

          This is the last place he wants to be. C'mon, Marc it'll be fun, said Danny. You need to get out of this fucking office, said Sherri. You're just gonna sit home and mope otherwise.          I'm not going to mope.          You're gonna sit home and watch old movies and pine. For that stupid Lisbon woman, or whoever's managed to break your heart lately. Sherri gives him the look.          Fine. She means well. Sherri and Danny and Big Bill, they all mean well. They know him well, too well maybe. Marcus's New Years plans involved getting take out and catching up on the Christmas movies he'd neglected. White Christmas. Die Hard. Gremlins. The classics. Fine. I'll go. For a little while.

         And now? The jukebox is playing "Hallelujah," John Cale's version. It's just past midnight and the ball dropped on the tv over the bar and people kissed each other and called their friends and Marcus's phone sits like a brick in his pocket, a fossil from when Lisbon would call, from when Dierdre and Sarey would sometimes call. Can't think of a single person he wants to call. He stands arm in arm with his friends who dragged him here, rocking back and forth with them, "hallelujah, hallelujah, Halle-loo-oo-oo-oooh-jah--"          And that's when he sees you, hunched at the bar, the only other person in this dive who isn't paired off, who isn't singing along with a bunch of drunks, your face pinched and closed off in the bleary bar mirror, peeking out around plastered on stickers and flyers for long defunct bands. He can tell that you've been crying.

         You drink and watch your phone light up with messages. Hey you okay? Did you make it home? U ok? What happened? You don't give a fuck. They can wait until tomorrow to find out if you lived or died or caught an Uber back home. Fuck. Home's not even home anymore technically. Staying the night at my Mom's. He'd texted. We'll figure out the logistics tomorrow. He'd texted. Logistics. Three years and it boils down to fucking logistics. Three years in and he dumps you at 11:50 on New Years Eve. So that's how you find yourself alone in this little pub with a bunch of drunks singing along with the jukebox, but at least it's quieter here. You catch your own reflection in the mirror, face peering over half empty liquor bottles with plastic spouts stuck in them, eyes puffy from crying. You laugh. A low and bitter sound. Who dumps somebody on New Years Eve?          "...couldn't've waited twelve more hours," you say, muttering into your half-finished drink, into the black hole at the center of the galaxy, "Couldn't've sucked it up for one more fucking night!" The last bit comes out loud, and you feel eyes on you, hunker down into yourself, into your glass, like a snail pulling into its shell, and then the noise of the bar resumes.          He'd rested his hands on his shoulders and peered into your face like he did when he meant kiss you or say something sweet. I'm not in love with you anymore, he'd said, the same tone of voice used for things like hey can you take the garbage out, or hey, we need more dish soap the next time you go to the store. Okay, so maybe bitch-slapping him in the middle of the dance floor in front of all your friends wasn't the best move, but it felt good and right. And now he keeps texting you about his stuff. His clothes and his x-box and you and the girls did a round of tequila shots before and you can't quite figure out how this all happened.          Why now? Why tonight? Things were good, weren't they? Or at least not bad, and you watch the ice melt in your drink and feel tricked, bamboozled, and oddly relieved. If he's willing to pull this shit you're better off without him, you think, but deep down you just wish it was all a mistake, that you'd just have someone warm to come home to, even if things weren't great. That maybe the both of you will wake up tomorrow and be like did we really break up last night? That's crazy. But he's texting you about his x-box and his ps 5 and how he really needs it even though you went halfsies on it. Text me one more time and you get nothing. You hit send and turned off your phone. Thank fuck his name's not on the lease. Let him stew. Let them stew. Fuck 'em.          You feel someone settle at the bar beside you.          "Hey, are you okay?"          "What do you think?" It comes out harsh and you regret it instantly. This stranger  in this dive on New Years Eve has nothing at all to do with what's happened. You turn to look and you see a tired man with his lips quirked up in a smile that doesn't quite hit his eyes.          "Sorry," you say, and shake your head, "I'm not--fuck--this has been a hell of a night. I hope you're not looking for a hookup because I got dumped at ten-till and the last thing--" He laughs, a soft low sound.          "A hookup's the last thing I want," he says and holds out his hand, "Come and sit with us. So you're not all by yourself." You eye him skeptically.          "Is this some sort of pity thing?" He laughs a little, a soft exhale, "If it is, we can be pitiful together. He glances over at a table of drunks, "I'm only here because they dragged me. I was going to order a pizza and watch Christmas movies-"          "It's past Christmas."          "I spent Christmas working," he says, "If that's not pitiful I don't know what is." You feel yourself warming to him.          "I bet you don't even have a tree up."          "I do!" He smiles, and this time it does touch his eyes, frames them in lovely crinkles, and maybe it's better to hang out with a handsome stranger in a bar than sit and drink and brood about how tomorrow you're gonna have to clear your boyfriend's shit out of your place. Ex. Ex boyfriend you have to keep reminding yourself. "It's not a real one, and it's only four feet tall. But it's there!" He offers his hand again.          "C'mon," He says, "You don't have to be all alone." Fuck it, you think, down the watery dregs of your whiskey sour and place your hand in his, allow him to draw you from your place at the bar. He is striking, leather jacket across broad shoulders, tight jeans that grip him just right, and eyes so deep and warm a girl could fall right in and drown.          "I'm Marcus," he says, and gives your hand a squeeze, but doesn't let go. You tell him your name and he leads you away from the brightness of the bar, back to where the jukebox plays a distorted love song "the curl of your bodies, like two perfect circles entwined see you feel hopeless, and homeless, and lost in the haze of the wine--" back to his table of friends, smiling and laughing, sticky shot glasses and half-filled pints between their hands. Sherri. Danny. Big Bill. Sherri has large blonde hair and gummy blue eyeliner and a cigarette roughed voice.          "You seem nice enough, what're you doing with this sad sack of shit?" She jerks her head and Marcus looks like he wants to evaporate and you laugh.          "I got dumped--let's see--" you power up your phone just long enough to check the time, lock screen lit with a tangle of missed texts --"47 minutes ago? Guess two sad sacks of shit are gonna find each other, huh?"

         The night passes in a warm blur, you and your newfound friends drinking together and laughing, Sherri's got stories that leave the table wheezing laughter and all through it Marcus is a warm presence at your side, your hands keep finding each other's, his gentle grasp an anchor in this storm of a night. You feel like you've speed-run the stages of grief over your ex. Sherri eyes you over shot glasses that have popped up like mushrooms over the course of the evening.          "Listen here," she says, pointing a pink lacquered dagger of a nail in your direction, "Keep the PS5. He paid his half in cash right? Unless you wrote him out a receipt he can't prove shit. His name's not on the lease. Leave whatever you see fit in a cardboard box by the front door and block his number. Wash your hands of him. You don't owe him shit."          "Yeah, fuck him," says Danny, and Big Bill comes back from the bar holding too many drinks and Marcus rests a warm palm on your shoulder.          "Hey," he says, those big dark eyes full of concern, "You don't think he's gonna try anything do you? You're safe, right?" And your first impulse is to laugh, the only thing your boyfriend, ex-boyfriend is a danger to is game controllers and the fifteen year olds who roast him over discord, but Marcus looks so sincere.          "Yeah. He's--I'm not worried."          "Can I give you my number? Just in case something happens--" Danny launches in to the worst mob-movie New York accent you've ever heard in your life.          "You give Markie here your number, see? One woid and your ex'll be sleepin with the fishes. We'll fit him out for the old cee ment loafers, we'll--"          "Jesus, Dan, you sound like the bastard child of Tony Soprano and Rizzo the Rat--" And everyone loses their collective shit.          "If I'm Rizzo the Rat, then you're Miss Piggy--"          "No way am I Miss Piggy! I'm nowhere near that wound up--"          "Bill here is Sweetums."          "If I'm Sweetums, Marc's that grouchy Eagle."          "No way," you say, "He's Kermit. Tell me I'm wrong."          "Hi-ho this is Kermit the frog here with a muppet news flash," and that's it. You are crying into your drink with laughter, and once you can breathe and put words together you tell him--          "You are the last person in the world I would've thought could do Kermit the frog--" And he smiles, a bashful one that pinks his cheeks and turns his face away.          "Marcus has many talents," says Sherri, "Don't let him fool you."

"I can see that you are lonesome just like me And it being late, you'd like some company Well, I turn around to look at you, and you look back at me The guy you're with, he's up and split—the chair next to you is free And I hope that you don't fall in love with me--"

         The lights are up and Tom Waits plays through the bar. People settle their tabs and head out into the bright night. It's snowing, large flakes that catch and hold the light, street-lights haloed in whirling yellow.          "Do you need a ride?" He asks, snow catching in his hair, his hand warm around yours.          "I can walk," you say.          "I'll walk with you,"          "How'll you get home?"          "Taxi. Uber. I'll manage," he smiles, soft and sad, "Let me get you home safe, okay?"          "Okay." Marcus offers his arm like some old time movie character and you loop your arm through his. Snow falls, slow and soft and heavy, and the bars let out all around, spilling people into the streets, closing time everywhere, and people sound happy, buoyed on the promise of a better year, at least for a few days until the shine wears off and it's back to business as usual. Sooner than you want you're at your front step.          "This is me," you say, and wish it wasn't, wish for more time in the swirling snow with him, and his hand traces down your arm, his fingers find yours and lace through.          "Are you okay?" he asks.          "No. But I will be." You surge forward and hug him, wrap your arms around his broad back and snow-dotted jacket, and he grips you in kind, cradles the back of your head in his hand, tucks your face into the warm join of his neck and shoulder, "Thanks for looking out for me." He squeezes you tighter.          "It's my pleasure," he says drawing back to look at you, his hands on your shoulders, "And if your ex--"          "He won't," you say, "He couldn't even wait till midnight. Couldn't even give me a kiss. I mean, not that I'd want him to now--" Marcus reaches for you, brushes the pad of his thumb over your cheek, the question hanging in his eyes. You nod and he presses his lips to yours, waits for you to kiss back, and then his tongue slides soft between your parted lips, tender, undemanding, your face cradled in his warm, calloused hands.          "Come upstairs with me," you say, and you feel him draw back, bright line of hurt in your chest.          "I want to," he says, "I want to take you to bed if you'd have me--"          "Then why--"          "I don't want to push you," he says, "I move fast. I scare people off sometimes. I like you a lot. I don't want to hurt you, okay?"          "Okay." That line of hurt resolves itself into a dull ache, "I should get some sleep. Gotta dump Asshole's stuff on the curb bright and early." He leans in kisses your cheek.          "See you next year."          "See you."

         At some point in the deepest ditch of night you turn your phone back on. Peer bleary-eyed at the notifications, unanswered texts. You send a group text to the girls, home safe don't worry about me. You give your ex a time to come get his shit and then block his number. You drift in the dark, and your phone vibrates against your chest.

         M: If you don't feel too terrible, I know a place that does breakfast all day. Best blueberry pancakes in town.          M: I'd like to see you again.

[bunnygirl678]

Wrote a fic, posted it, it's inspired by Sird looking for the Prince of Darkness outfit for Silver, like he has a full ass closet full of clothes despite Gio not actually knowing if he was alive or not, yeah its sad, yeah there's gonna be a sequel at some point, yeah this is the second thing I've posted tonight, i'm on a roll lmao, read it here or head over to ao3 <3

Clothes With The Tags Still Attached

Every year was the same, Christmas Eve, he’d come in like clockwork, 8:53 am on the dot. Always bringing a truckload full of toys that had never been removed from their boxes, clothes with the tags still attached, and books never opened. While it wasn’t necessarily uncommon to receive donations from the uber wealthy at year end, attempting to lessen their tax burden, usually there was a bit of variety in sizes and ages and genders. But, this man was different, each year he came in with clothing in one size, toys for one age group, each year increasing by one year. Always for boys. 

He’d been doing it for as long as Crys had been volunteering at the children’s home, and according to the director he’d been coming in for even longer. The first year he’d come in, it was toys and books and clothes for a two year old boy, but these had been lightly used, from that point forward everything was new.

They would never ask, it wasn’t their place, but the general assumption was that his child had died, and this was his strange way of honoring him. 

“Hello, I have some donations,” he was dressed the same as always, trench coat, hat, his face wasn’t fully visible, but it was obvious he was handsome. Well built too. He never wore a smile, but he was pleasant, almost charming, in a sad sort of way.

“Sure, we love donations, especially this time of year.” There was a slight grimace but it disappeared just as quickly, he nodded before going out to the truck, he brought box after box, ten total, 

“Thank you so much for your donation, can I write you a tax receipt?” 

As always the man simply shook his head, gave a slight wave and left, not to be seen again until the next year. 

Crys sighed as she opened the box, they were reaching the point where the clothes wouldn’t fit most of the kids, but it was okay, they could always sell them and use the money for much needed renovations. If she were to guess, this year's clothes were for a 13 year old. They looked like they could fit Silver, maybe she’d bring a few things to him. He could probably use them just as much as the home needed money, and he was technically the type of kid that the home served, not that he’d ever reach out for help.

She shook her head pulling out a few pairs of new designer pants and several non-flashy shirts, a pair of shoes too. She'd drop them off at Gold’s since Silver seemed to show up there the most often. If only he could find his parents, and if only the man had never lost his son, and if only the world was full of marshmallow clouds and rainbows. 

“I hope you find peace one day,” she said to the empty lobby where the man had long since departed.

[aloneinthehellfire]

for the rh readers version, I was wondering if you could write in a Christmas chapter? I know technically we did get one at the end of rh1 but I’d love to see it at the end of rh2, something where they aren’t necessarily thinking about danger and reader spends time with her sister, that sort of thing

no worries if not, i just absolutely love this story and all the characters are so special to me now you’ve written such a beautiful thing. Anyways, merry Christmas if you celebrate it!

thank you for asking me to write this, these characters deserved sweetness in their life <3

and im fully aware of me being super late with this but I took some time off to relax for the holidays :)

RAINING HELLFIRE [READER’S VERSION]

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: small mention of a scar, uh… steve? is steve a warning?

Set in the Christmas after RH2: Chapter 13: Happy Endings…

Find all Raining Hellfire works here <3

Summary: After all the horror from Halloween, the close calls and the nightmares, Y/n deserved a day with her friends that didn’t involve chasing after theories or running from monsters.

[A/N:I hope everyone had a happy new year! I know for a fact this time of year can be emotional, some of us unable to share it with people we love or having to share it with complicated familial relationships, no one is alone. I hope this little lost chapter will bring some joy to everyone. Spoilers: it’s adorable. Extra spoilers: it’s terrible writing.]

RH2: A SILENT NIGHT WOULDN’T FEEL RIGHT

A soft melody of the radio downstairs carried its way to you, singing faint Christmas tunes in your ear.

It was Christmas Eve night and you were sitting in your room, ripping off some tape to secure the last gift. Technically you had finished wrapping your presents days ago, but Jack had spotted something at the radio shack he thought Steve might like. It was sweet of him to think of your best friend.

You and Jack had spent the day driving around Hawkins, deciding upon a tradition of viewing the Christmas lights. It was the first year you had done it, and Jack was adamant that it wouldn’t be the last.

With a sigh, you lean back against your bed and survey your work, checking the paper hadn’t ripped in your haste to be finished before the plans you had made arrived. But your eyes caught something else.

A small box was currently sitting atop your bookshelf in the corner, almost haunting the shelf it resides. It was too far to read the label, but it wasn’t as if you had forgotten who it was for.

This whole year had thrown a bunch of twists and turns you hadn’t anticipated, one of those being the breakup that shattered two hearts. And, as a result, you now had a premature gift all wrapped up neatly with no one to give it to. Because it wasn’t meant for anyone else.

Maybe one day, you think as you imagine that little guitar pick necklace.

The ring of the doorbell shattered your bittersweet haze and you checked the clock, immediately suppressing a grin. Finally.

You jump up and quickly grab the sweater you had folded onto the desk, your feet soon finding the staircase as you practically flew down it. Jack had only just set down his coffee as you bounded past him, his eyes following you with a curious and inquisitive gaze.

Rather than acknowledge it, you quickly sweep away Jack's abandoned shoes from the foyer and pull open the door, a smile already painting your features.

“You’re late.” You grin, earning yourself a laugh.

“Fine, okay, you win.” Steve chuckles as he shuts the door behind him, kicking off his shoes, “But it’s not my fault, Dustin-“

“Nuh-uh.” You interrupt with a grin. “We had a deal, loser. No excuses.”

His shoulders drop in a mocking defeat as you present the sweater in your hand.

“Jokes on you.” Steve juts his chin, displaying the outfit against his chest, “I rock Christmas sweaters.”

“Good to see you didn’t leave your ego at Dustin’s.” You snort as he pulls the fabric over his head, his hair springing back into shape once the clothes settle on his body.

“Eh?” He spreads his arms and you tighten your lips.

You had both been Christmas shopping together a few days ago, reminiscing the horror of fashions past, stumbling by chance upon the ugliest Christmas sweater you had ever seen. It was as if someone had sloppily thrown on some tinsel and glitter and called it a day. You had jokingly commented that it would suit him, to which he refused to try it on. So you made a bet based upon your extensive knowledge of his tardiness. And, as expected, you won.

“Who threw up on you?” Jack comments from behind you and you can’t hold your laugh in anymore.

“You don’t like?” Steve asks, and you see he has straightened himself a little more, something he always did when Jack was around. It was cute that he cared what he thought.

“Wait, you haven’t seen the best part.” You giggle, clumsily searching along the lining of the fabric until you hear a ‘click’. If looks could kill, you would drop to the floor without a heartbeat from the way Steve’s glare was twinkling above his now lit-up sweater.

Jack stops and inspects it like it was his duty, slowly nodding.

“That reminds me, we need to chuck out those leftovers from your stew.” He says, looking at you and your mouth gapes open.

“Ha, yes! Burn.” Steve points at you, happy to not be the only butt of the joke.

You let out an offended gasp, “My cooking is not that bad.”

“Kid.” Jack says with fake sympathy. “The only thing you can muster up is waffles and we all know it. Even you couldn’t stomach that stew last night.”

“… I also make cakes.” You say, pursing your lips.

“Fine, fine.” He laughs, raising his hands. “Look, don’t make any mess tonight, okay? I already have to work a last minute shift, I don’t wanna be walking into a bomb site when I get back.”

“Yes, we are known for throwing wild parties.” You nod and Steve smirks, switching off his glittery sweater.

“I’ll see you both later.” Jack dismisses with a laugh, grabbing his coat and keys as he disappears out the door.

“So when is this wild party happening?” Steve asks as he grabs the tupperware container and follows you into the kitchen.

“In like 10 minutes so we need to hurry.” You stress as you rifle through the fridge, pulling out various items.

“10?!” His eyes widened, “Why the hell are we doing everything in 10 minutes?”

You send a look of disbelief, cradling different pre-made treats.

“Ah.” He thins his lips, nodding slowly in acknowledgment.

“Ah.” You mock, dropping everything on the counter, “Lucky for you, Jack is right. I’m shit at cooking so I basically raided Bradley’s for food yesterday.”

“Smart.” He nods, surveying the food, “Hold up. No popcorn?”

“The last time I made popcorn around you, it disappeared in a minute flat. Four times.”

“Hey, gotta be some kind of record.”

“I’d check but I don’t care enough.”

“Rude.”

The doorbell echoes through to the kitchen and you groan.

“Why did I agree to this?” You cringe when the doorbell rings again.

“Because you love us.” Steve smiles at you weirdly and you resist the urge to kick him. Which, incidentally, is what he assumed you would do as he takes a massive step back. “And because you suggested it like a month ago, please don’t kill me.”

You open your mouth to speak when the bell is rung so many times in a row that you finally give up on the conversation and yell out.

“Okay, okay! I’m here, Jesus Christ.” You sigh, swinging open the door to find two boys. Will smiles up at you while Mike stares guiltily with one finger still on the doorbell.

“Hi.” Will waves a small wrapped box at you and Mike starts to smile. You tilt your head at him.

“Did you ring enough times?” You raise your eyebrows. “Okay, come in, we’re almost done.”

You start to look away and the same echo of a doorbell floods your house, prompting you to spin around. Mike immediately removes his hand and puts them both behind his back.

“Now I’m done.” He grins as he rushes past you, only just avoiding your attack to grab him. Will is laughing as he gives you a quick hug and trails after his friend.

“Everything alright?” Steve leans against the doorframe with a smirk and you shut the front door with the kick of your foot.

“Just peachy.” You shake your head in amusement.

***

By the time the last guest had arrived, everything was truly starting to feel like Christmas again.

Steve had managed to string up some lights in the living room as per Max's request. She's always loved the twinkle of them ever since she was little, cross legged on the rug, wide blue eyes staring up. She wasn't as engrossed with them now, but you knew she needed that little piece of home with her in this new place.

The Party sat around the TV, arguing over which movie to watch. You knew they'd never decide, especially not when gifts were about to be presented to them.

El was the last kid to arrive. You had quickly welcomed her into the house before Hopper could change his mind. He needed to learn to let her live her own life for a little bit. Maybe live his own, too.

“They seem to be having fun, right?” Steve asks as he gently moves past you, one hand on your back to alert you he was there.

“We fed them and gave them the remote, I don’t see them complaining any time soon.” You laugh as the kids cheer over something on the TV. “Why do I feel like we’re suddenly parenting?”

“Hm, I don’t know.” Steve mumbled with his mouth full, dusting off his hands from the cookie he just devoured. “Is this what parents do?”

You reach for the last glass you had snuck away to the kitchen to get after El asked for some water, pondering the thought.

“I actually don’t know, either.” You shrug.

“I got it.” Steve declares when you turn to walk out with the water, gently taking it from your hand and you roll your eyes, picking up the dish towel.

As he leaves, you take a quick glance at the pile of Christmas cards slowly stacking up on the counter. Anytime one was posted, you or Jack would add it to the pile to wait for a time you could open them together, especially seeing as most were addressed to the both of you. It didn’t stop you from studying the different types of handwriting, however. It certainly didn’t stop you from realising that no scripture belonged to the woman you once called a mother.

Not that you expected one. After all, you had both gotten that closure, realised you had both since moved on to different families, better ones. It still stung a little. It wasn’t like the last few years where she had been miles away, personally convincing yourself the lie that it had gotten lost in the mail.

“I think I bought us, like, 20 minutes away from them.” Steve huffs as he pushes open the kitchen door, slowly shutting it behind him. “All you need to know is that I have been saving a gift for this very moment.”

“What-“ You start to ask when there is a sudden blare of music down the hall, followed by an unusually loud Lucas saying the word ‘testing’ and belting out a surprising high note.

“A karaoke machine?” You raise your eyebrow and he shrugs.

“Hey, just be glad we’re not sitting there while half of them fight over superheroes and the other half bully us about our terrible love lives.”

“Cheers to that.” You raise an imaginary glass and he laughs. “Well, I guess I can finally give you your present now.”

“That was either a threat or a promise.” He smirks and you bat his head with the towel. “Okay, sorry.”

You turn away and grab the red package on the end of the counter, holding it out to him. “Here, before I change my mind.”

He gives it a quick shake, waggling his eyebrows. “Well now I’m intrigued. No noise, feels soft…”

“Just open it you weirdo.” You laugh and it’s all he needs to tear into the paper, his lips thinning as he tries to contain a smile.

“Seriously?” He sends you a look, holding in his hands a yellow sweater. His yellow sweater. “When did you even take this, I-”

“Unfold it.” You prompt with a smile and he furrows his brows. “I needed something to cushion it for when you decided to start shaking it around like a lunatic.”

Steve carefully peels back the sweater arms, one hand underneath holding it steady. His breath hitches when he finally uncovers what he had been looking for.

“Okay, so I know it’s not much, but you constantly kept saying how you didn’t want anything, which was just a lie because who doesn’t want a Christmas present, so I thought maybe something thoughtful would be more your speed… Steve?”

You look up at him as he drops the sweater on the counter and holds the picture frame in his hands, slowly nodding.

“This is amazing.” He smiles, setting the photo down and pulling you into a hug as you laugh. “Seriously. Best gift ever.”

“Now you’re just feeding my ego.” You smile as he kisses the top of your head.

Steve looks back at the photo frame again, shaking his head. “When did you even take any of these?”

“I have my ways.” You say mysteriously.

The frame in question held a collection of Polaroids and photos, some recent and others dating back to Freshman year. It was torture trying to scrapbook them together into some kind of coherent mess, making sure every face could be seen. Deciding on the photos was a little harder, especially considering his history with Nancy. But she’s there in a group photo from last Christmas, standing at the door frame in the back with a smile.

Your personal favourite was a photo of you and Steve sat at Skull Rock. Somehow he had managed to pull you to the very top and you had brought along the Polaroid camera you found in a box of your aunt’s things and turned it to snap a photo of you both. So very young. So very happy.

“I don’t know how I can compete with that but I guess it’s my turn.” Steve says and you frown as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls forward a surprisingly neatly wrapped gift. It was small enough to fit in his hand but as he passed it over, you could feel it was solid.

With a curious smile, you find the corners of the paper and slide your finger beneath it, quickly unsticking the thin layer and your heart skips a little when you see it.

“You got me a tape?” You ask, pulling out the cassette tape to flip it over and see which one.

“Uh, yeah, kind of.” Steve looks a little shy, stuffing his hands in his pockets and opting to look out the kitchen window.

It wasn’t an ordinary tape. You had expected something like Madonna to be staring back at you, possibly a new band he had thought sounded like something you’d like. It was better than any of that, however.

“A mixtape?” You smile up at him, noticing the way his neck was getting a little pinker.

“Hm, yeah.” He nods slowly, not meeting your eyes. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. You’re always, I don’t know, shuffling through tapes like constantly whenever you get bored of one and I figured it would cut down your time a little to have a tape with different stuff on it.”

“Steve.” You gently say and he lets out a breath, finally facing you again. You smile wider. “Thank you. This is honestly amazing. You’re amazing.”

“ Don't praise me too much. Turns out, not so hard to make one of those as you might think.” He grins as you wrap your arms around him for another hug. “But you’re welcome.”

“Hellooooooo? We wanna watch a movie!”

You both simultaneously groan, small smiles etching the edges of your mouths even so.

“Peace can’t last forever.” You sigh, placing the tape beside Steve’s photo frame. “Should probably make some popcorn.”

“You sure you even have any?” Steve asks as you walk to a cupboard.

“Yeah, I stocked up on them yesterday when…” Your eyes stare at an empty shelf, making you squint. “How the hell-”

“Well, guess we should be getting back.” Steve hurriedly announces. You turn to him in shock and he raises his hands in surrender. “Hey, you take secret photos and I’m really really great at secret snacking.”

“But… you need a microwave.��� You frown, looking at it like it had deceived you.

“Come on.” He laughs, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “If we leave them any longer they’re gonna start rioting.”

“I’ve been beside you the entire day- I would have heard the microwave.” You mutter as he drags you back into the living room.

“What’re we watching?” Steve slumps down onto the sofa, arm resting against the back. His face falls. “No. No, not this again.”

“You will love it if it’s the last thing you do.” Dustin warns just as the Star Wars theme song starts blaring from the TV.

You catch your sister's eye as her head motions for you both to step aside, pulling you into the hallway.

“What’s up?” You ask and she shrugs slightly.

“I just… I just wanted to thank you.” Max smiles, glancing back at where the others were laughing over Steve’s poor attempt at reading the intro on the screen.

“For what?” You frown curiously and she gives another shrug. Max hadn’t always been the best at expressing her feelings, something you’re afraid she caught from you.

“I know you did this for me.” She says knowingly and your features soften. “I mean, I did ask so it’s not, like, a total surprise. I’m just glad we can have a Christmas again, you know?”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You shrug, and you start to grin when joy lights her face. “And these guys aren’t either. I think you’re officially one of the nerds now.”

“How dare you.” Max giggles, crossing her arms as she starts to frown. “I don’t know about that, though. They seem pretty close with El. And she doesn’t look like she likes me very much.”

You turn to where her eyes drift just in time to see El’s directed glare quickly drop when Mike calls her name.

“She… she takes a little while to warm up to people.” You try to explain, “I guarantee she’ll love you in no time. Seriously. Especially considering she’s gonna be hanging out with Mike, she’s gonna need some serious girl talk. And, well… if you don’t find a way to have some girl solidarity, who knows what Lucas will make you do. He’s your boyfriend now, he might… make you join their campaigns.”

As you whisper out that last part with a fake warning, Max scrunches her face but laughs all the same. “Whatever.”

“I’m serious.” You chuckle, looking back at the others and momentarily locking eyes with Steve before he lets out a cough and turns his gaze back to the screen.

“Uh-huh.” Max wiggles her eyebrows and you frown. “Looks like we’ve all got our boy problems.”

“What’s that meant to mean?” You ask her as she walks away, placing your hands on your hips.

The amount of times your sister has implied something more than friendship was happening between you and Steve had reached its highest peak since the Snow Ball, regardless of how many times you reminded her that it was simply just friendship.

Shaking your head, you take a quick peek out of the window and smile as you see the delicate descent of snowflakes hit the ground. It was strange how similar your world felt to the Upside Down, not just with the town buildings but rather in its natural state. Small particles like a winter's night, the clouds that formed and flurried, strikes of lightning. It was a habitat in itself, you realise. You just hoped you wouldn’t visit it again any time soon. The scar on your leg was enough to remind you that whatever beauty you could find can be shattered at a moment's notice.

“Y/n.” Will calls out and you turn your head back. He smiles at you as his hand waves you over. “We’re starting.”

Brushing away any thoughts of the Upside Down, you take your seat beside Steve on the couch and focus your mind on what mattered more. You shouldn’t let yourself be consumed with what’s happening to you, not the voices or the shadows that keep you awake.

Right now, you are meant to live in the moment. And that moment was the joyous laughter of the kids sat upon the rug, Steve’s warm smile whenever you laughed with them, those silly twinkling lights that felt like more than just decoration.

The Upside Down would just have to wait until after the holidays.

if you would like to request a new unseen / pov scene for the Raining Hellfire universe, please feel free to put it into my ask box and I’ll get to it when I am available <3

[twstschemer]

“Oh? What is this? There are so many interesting things here!”

Technical Information: Name: Barry Bones Nicknames: Fish Bones (Floyd); Monsieur Magnifique (Rook); Barbar (Cerise) Voice Actor: Yuichi Jose (Felix Hugo Fraldarius, FE3H)"

Biological Information: Gender: Male Pronouns: He/Him Age: 18 Birthday: October 13 Star Sign: Libra Height: 192 cm Hair color: White Eye color: Black Homeland: Hollow of Eves Family: Mother; Father

Professional Status: School: Night Raven College Dorm: Diasomnia School Year: Third Class: 3-B Student Number: 37 Occupation: Student Club: Acting Club Best Subject: Ancient Incantations

Fun facts: Dominant hand: Left Favorite Food: Pumpkin Pie Least Favorite Food: Lemons Dislikes: Meaningless things Hobbies: Collecting things Talents: Very flexible

Appearance: Barry has short white hair. He has black eyes and has a scar across his face. He wears the stand school uniform for Night Raven College.

Personality: Barry is an energetic person who has a thirst for knowledge. He tends to get excited about the things around him. He finds joy in exciting activities.

Background: Barry hails from the kingdom of Hollow of Eves. He is a member of the ruling class and is the current prince of the kingdom. While he is still in school, his father is ruling the kingdom. However, there is still a lot Barry needs to learn before he can rule the kingdom.

His father believed that enrolling him in school would help to teach him how to be a leader. However, it seems like those hopes have been dashed.

Unique Magic: Barry’s Unique Magic is called Hail The Pumpkin King. It allows him to summon a flaming pumpkin that he can throw at other people. Upon impact, the pumpkin explodes into smaller pumpkins. During its duration, he has an immunity to fire.

Chant: "Festivities about, merriment around. Look forward, Hail The Pumpkin King."

Trivia:

Barry is based off of Jack Skellington from The Nightmare Before Christmas.

His birthday is October 13, the day The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993) was released.

He has a pet dog named Zoey.

[system-of-a-feather]

Man, so my middle sister is in town from New York as of last night (technically this morning) and I briefly went to my moms house (where she is staying) since we live near enough for me to just walk and they had free donuts; and my god

My family really doesn't get together all too much other than Christmas, and thank god our oldest sister (we cut contact) is still avoiding the family ever since we stopped being her pet and what not. But like, I really really forgot the truth to what we used to say to everyone who was around our family

"Independently, each of us being around one another is not that bad, hell it can even be good, but the closer we get to being a full family again, the rapidly and more exponentially worse it gets"

And god, I get along really well with my mom and my middle sister now, and pretty alright with my dad as well. But when I went over there and we started trying to *plan* a mostly figured out schedule for Christmas Eve / Christmas and just seeing the most MILD versions of the talking patterns and just high passive tension and stress that I feel most were still desensitized to like... God

How the FUCK did I survive LIVING in this for SO many years let alone DO REMEMBER we are missing one of the five puzzle pieces of hell - that of which was arguably our most insidious abuser

And I know its not that they were *bad* as to why it was exhausting, stressful and draining; cause my fiance had gone with me as well and he was barely bothered by it (anymore) cause they were honestly really good and not even "fighting"

But like good god. Sometimes cause of how much our life is better and how we managed to make things work with 3/4 of our immediate family members to actually have somewhat positive familial relationships with them independently, that we really wonder if it was really THAT bad

But like yeah no okay. If this is them on a "good day" with "good behavior" and "getting along" and I - having recovered as much as I have - get this overloaded and stressed from like 20 minutes of trying to plan things as a family like... fuck man I can't remember the specifics of living here for honestly largely aging memory reasons but also trauma-disrupted-encoding reasons.... but fuccccck man I can only imagine.