#like a child waiting for their christmas's gifts

[koofleur]

sweetener

details ;

pairing: navy officer!jungkook, teacher!oc summary: when he surprises you on christmas type: drabble wc: 1.1k

۶ৎ ♡ 국 ; nin's diary: hey guys, first post in here! would mean a lot if you showed some love! i had an account before, @/kookoomyboy which got terminated for some reason i still haven't gotten clarification about :( ps: this was a requested piece from when i was there.

“dada! look what i drew for you!”

the little girl’s giggle melts in your ears as soon as you step out of the classroom to drop her off. ara, your brother jin’s daughter was such a bubbly child, closely resembling her dad’s and mom’s soft features.

“jin, hi” you waved at him, nudging ara to her dad as she scurried towards jin’s open arms.

“hi, oh my baby who is this handsome man you’ve drawn right here” he sweetly appreciates his cherubic daughter, cradled in his arms, your smile widens seeing your brother so happy.

“ara, would you draw one for me as well?” you coo into her ears, petting the silkiness of baby hair that is tied up in a cute ponytail.

“yes auntie! i’m going to draw one with uncle jungkook and you!” she pats onto her bag as it clinks with all the colorful pens and papers stuffed inside.

“oh sweetie auntie would love that!” your mind, though, wanders off to jungkook, who is probably in the middle of the vast ocean, working for his country, making everyone proud.

but you sure miss your high school sweetheart, the black haired doe-eyed boy you met years ago, who’s now your husband. 

“__, if you ever feel alone, maybe i can drop ara off at yours sometime so we can getaway a little you know.” he winks lightly at ara’s mom, seated in the car, oblivious to the snarky comment he just made.

“i would love to have ara over, but not this christmas.” your lips curved into a smile.

“jungkook will be home on the 25th, tomorrow. though it’s late, i can still have him with me for a whole month!” you felt like a schoolgirl again, one who is head over heels for that one boy.

“finally that little dork finds time to spend with his wife. literally after dating for almost half of your lives and even marrying you he’s off in the middle of the sea, visiting once in a while like santa.”

jin’s brotherly instincts make you laugh as you shake your head

“i’m proud of him, jin. and i can wait, work here at the kindergarten and even play with ara and would still not feel alone because i know he’s with me everytime.” you say, matter-of-factly as jin mocks you again for acting like a teenager (as if he’s any better), but you didn’t mind, because these fleeting moments of thinking about your husband made you feel alive each time.

“okay then, it’s already evening! see you at christmas dinner tomorrow, and you better come with jungkook.” he “threatens”, making you helpless and thus ushered him to the driver’s seat, waving goodbye to ara, as you walk back to your own car, ending the day’s work at the kindergarten earlier than usual, to start christmas preparations.

you couldn’t wait to add final touches to the tree, and to countdown until the time jungkook comes home, when it would ultimately feel like one.

———

“that’s perfect!” your best friend jiah chimes through the phone, as you proudly show off the apple crumble recipe you were trying to replicate.

“it’s a bit too sweet for my liking though, but jungkook would surely love it.”

“yeah yeah lovergirl, isn’t your nice man home yet?” jiah asks as she is engaged in decorating her tree, busily shuffling through a multitude of gift boxes lying in front of her.

“he’ll only be here tomorrow, but before our usual dinner anyways.” you put the dish away in the refrigerator.

“okay then, i have to put up the star now, it’s long overdue.” you bid goodbye to jiah, sending her a pouty flying kiss, receiving nothing but an eye roll in return. typical.

picking up the gold and red star laying on the centre table, you heave a deep breath before trying to reach the top of the dark forest green christmas tree, already decorated.

after much struggle, but efforts in vain, your short figure hurries to the store room in search of a wooden stool stacked away somewhere.

10 minutes passed, as your defeated form emerges from the store room and leans against the door, high on contemplation as to how you’d accomplish this mission.

“never back down, angel.” you feel your senses coming alive, hearing a voice so familiar, a mix of aftershave and bleu de chanel ringing in your nose, a pair of sturdy arms wrapping around your waist lifting you up to bring you eye-to-eye with the top of the tree, holding you steely on the broad shoulder.

you had him memorized at this point. it was jungkook. his white uniform clad body, fit and firm, fluffy black hair that brushed against your exposed waist through the flimsy material of the red tank top wrapping around your figure.

say, you’ve taken his words in, quietly leaning forward, placing the star oh so perfectly on the tree, pleasantly but not obviously surprised as you wanted to tease him for a while longer. you knew he’d come to you, even if a day earlier than informed and spend time with you like this. and display of strength? you were a sucker for that, only from the man who’d not let a scar touch your body when he had you close.

he brought you down from his shoulder, immediately towering your frame, eyes finally meeting after almost an year.

“hi” he sweetly muses, making your heart topple over and above.

“hi” you smile, looking up at him.

“can i kiss you?” 15 years of togetherness and here he is, asking you for consent. oh he’s your man, jacked and kind. not the boy you knew years ago.

“please do”

his words moved into you as he presses a sweet peck onto your lips.

a feather touch, makes you yearn for more.

a moment.

coming back up to look into your orbs for a second, he dives back in, to your petals, like a man starved. foreheads pressed together, relishing the minute the both of you get engrossed into the kiss. he dips down, and learns you in a way no other can. pulling you closer it seemed like he was going to kiss you until christmas eve. you wouldn’t mind that.

“merry christmas, darling.” he whispers, voice hoarse and warm on the cold winter day.

“i missed you, love. merry christmas.” you kiss his nose in response, as he scrunches them. hands smoothing through the locks of your hair, he stares at you for a minute.

“i’ve made your apple crumbles, extra sweet this time though.” your eyes search his, as he chuckles.

“i think i’d want something just a wee bit more delightful than the desert you made, though.” 

his eyes gleam in mischief, placing you on his lap, cradling you close to his chest, hands ran on it’s own accord, exploring his broad shoulders.

“then let me be your sweetener, babe.”

[biblical-chronicles]

Noel-nation fics

❀̥˚───❀̥˚───❀̥˚───❀̥˚───❀̥˚───❀̥˚───❀̥˚

Cigarettes & Alcohol (courage)

where the reader just can't resist telling (or rather showing) Noel how she feels after a few drinks. The press also cannot resist splattering the private moment across their front pages to remind the somewhat hangover reader exactly what happened last night.

Kissing lessons

where the reader decides to confess to Noel that she is yet to have her first kiss after her bandmates tease her. Lucky for her, Noel offers his services.

You're the one I want

where Noel can't stand the sight of the reader and Liam hanging out together so when she comes over to ask if Liam is in, he finally asks her why has she not chosen him. Little does he know that the reader distances herself from him as she harbours feelings for him too.

Addressing the unspoken

where Noel can't stand the sight of the reader chatting with Damon Albarn and finally decides to address the unspoken connection he has had with her for the longest time now.

Breaking the script

where the reader is cast in a High Flying Birds music video but the line between acting and reality becomes quite blurry.

The weight of waiting

where Noel has always felt summat for the reader but she refused to acknowledge it, until potential competition arrived at the scene.

Fan-service

where Noel is so starstruck by the reader, that he can't even let a word out, especially as she presses against him to finally nail a riff that has been stuck in her head.

Fan-service pt 2where they make it official and Liam can't hide his excitement over Noel being hailed solely as the reader's boyfriend

Forbidden Frequencies

where an unsuspecting Noel ends up with Albarn's sister, to the dismay of both Damon and Liam.

Picture Perfect

where Noel finds a photo that hits him hard, reminding him of everything he’s been missing while stuck in the studio. Realizing he’s wasted too much time, he knows he needs to go home and make it right. [18+]

Where we left off

where the reader and Noel rekindle their childhood crushes.

Back Home

where Noel comes back from tour starved of connection.

Tied together

where the reader doesn't know exactly how to tell Noel about her positive pregnancy test.

Home early

where the reader cheers Noel up after he injures himself during sound check [18+]

Irresistible

the reader's summer dress proves to be a useful tool. [18+]

Early Years

where the reader stumbles upon Noel's childhood pictures and can't help but tease him a little.

In the hands of love

where Noel's hands don't stay solely on the fretboard [18+]

Gifted

where Noel's heartfelt christmas gift leads to a confession, meanwhile Liam makes sure to keep tradition alive (in his own way)

Flashed

where the reader, pregnant with Noel's child, is rescued by the brothers from paparazzi.

Take a chance

where a chance meeting while smoking behind the pub leads to summat more [18+]

Questioning

where Noel asks the reader about a "dilf" sign he saw at his gig

Back to us

where Anaïs manages to get Noel and the reader to address their past feelings during a chance meeting

Caught offside

where Noel tries to educate the reader while watching the match but she just can't focus [18+]

Back to you

where Noel finally returns from touring as a roadie, and in the quiet of their little flat, him and the reader take the next step in their relationship [18+]

Say the words

where the reader tries to make Noel finally say the magic three words.

Reunion

where the reader, who secretly had a crush on Noel since school, attends an Oasis gig. After the show, they meet, and Noel admits he’s always liked her too.

Family dinner

where Liam pressures Noel into bringing the reader over for Sunday dinner, and to his surprise she is indeed Noel's bird.

Countdown

Where jealousy leads Noel to a confession on NYE

Morning Glory

where the reader helps Noel wake up in the morning [18+]

Puddles

where a small Anais brings the reader and Noel together.

Moving on

where a forgotten drunken confession leads to a whole new beginning.

Handsy

where Noel can't keep his hands to himself at the table (and elsewhere). [18+]!!

Handsy pt. 2where the two of you christen the car [18+]!!

Fine wine

where you push Noel away leaving him confused, only to ravish him as soon as he steps foot back in the house. [18+]

Washing machine

where Noel gets asked a ridiculous question about you in an interview, and the two of you decide to show the press how it really is.

The Masterplan

where Noel makes sure you end up as his.

pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3| pt.4

New arrival

where the newly moved-in reader makes Noel start leaving his room for once.

New arrival pt.2 where you and Noel sneak around a little. [18+]

Truth or dare

where a silly game leads to summat more.

Locked in

where a storm brings you and Noel together.

Honest mistake

where Noel's celebrity crush mistakes him for Liam (but for a good reason)

Worth it

where the reader tells Noel to stop asking for permission to feel.

Clingy

where the others can see that Noel missed you (a lot) while on tour.

Perfect

where an interesting comparison you used in an interview intrigues Noel.

Baby fever

where Noel can't get enough of watching you take care of Lennon.

Derby day

where the two of you attend a game and Noel has an interesting suggestion regarding what should be written on your kit.

Derby day pt. 2

Observe

where you force Noel to carefully observe how beautiful he is [18+]

Led on

where you confess to Noel who doesn't quite reciprocate at first. (happy endin' no worries I wouldn't do that to ya lot)

Embrace

where Noel shows up at your door desperate for a hug. repeatedly.

Morning bites

where Noel finds a new way to show his affection.

Delivery

where Liam messes up Noel's elaborate Valentine's Day plan, or does he?

Reckless

where Noel gets insecure about you getting on well with Liam.

Focused

where Noel is working in the studio and you get bored [18+]

See me

where Noel comes back from tour and asks you, his fwb, to help him get back with his ex.

Intermission

where Noel takes a liking to a certain theatre actress.

Hello stranger

where Anaïs brings a friend over but it turns out that you and Noel have met before [18+]

Cuddles

where Noel wants to be cuddled. no further plot.

Haze

where Noel makes sure you have a good first trip.

Locked out

where you lock yourself out of your hotel room and end up in Noel's. [18+] [enemies to lovers]

❀̥˚───❀̥˚───❀̥˚───❀̥˚───❀̥˚───❀̥˚───❀̥˚───❀̥˚

[youchangedmedestiel]

I wrote a Destiel ficlet for New Year's Eve. I scheduled it to be posted at midnight in my country (France). I'm so excited for you to read it.

I like what I did, and this doesn't happen very often. I'm enjoying the feeling. I can't wait for it to be posted and I hope you'll like it 😁

WAIT, wait! I'm trying to stay chill and patient...

[bedforddanes75]

all my friends judging me for buying these tabis 😔 you dont GET IT...

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Poly!141 x fem!Reader

TW: sexual content ahead, choo choo

Part 1

“Wake up, love.” A groan left your lips and you flipped over, burying your face further into the fluffy pillow beneath your head. “Five more minutes.” The dark chuckle behind you betrayed that it was John who was trying to wake you up. He rounded the four-poster, and you cracked an eye open, glancing at him “Do I really have to carry you downstairs?” Your lips twitched, and John immediately knew your answer. With a slight huff, he picked you up and carried you downstairs. He plopped down on the couch with you in his lap, as you cuddled up against him, your eyes closed again.

“Look at her, I think we tired her out too much last night.” Johnny chuckled, gently scratching your scalp and running his fingers through your hair. A pleased hum left your throat as you leaned into his touch. “Yeah, you hurting, pretty?” Kyle sounded concerned and you quickly felt his body heat behind you. “’ M fine.” The Sergeant chuckled, kissing your head, before standing up and walking away.

“Okay, time for breakfast, huh?” Your eyes shot open immediately and you glared at Simon, who stood next to the gigantic Christmas tree you had forced the boys to buy and put up. “No! You promised that we would open the gifts first thing if…if…” Simon grinned, his eyebrows raised as you began to grow bashful. “If what, love?” Your lower lip jutted out as you pouted. “If I were a good girl and took a few more…orgasms.” John chuckled behind you. “Look who’s awake now. Don’t tease her, Si. Let’s open the presents.”

And with that, the present marathon began. The guys got presents for each other and opened them one by one, thanking each other. They were usual guy gifts - alcohol, cigars, socks, etc. Things the others could use, but nothing overwhelming. By the time they were done, you had finally woken up enough to point to the presents you had gotten each of them.

Johnny was the first to unwrap his. It was an expensive sketchbook and art set he had been eyeing for some time, but never decided to buy. “Aw, bonnie. Thank you, I appreciate it.” You grinned. “Open it.” With a slight frown, he did as you told him to, his eyes widening as he saw what was decorating the front page. It was a beautiful portrait of the two of you. You had gotten his favorite indie artist to draw it for you and he even signed it. “No way!” With a giant grin, he jumped to his feet. “How did ya- no, when did ya-?” He jumped over the table that was separating him from you, not waiting for an answer. “You are amazing.” Still grinning, he bent down and pressed his lips to yours, keeping it chaste for the moment.

After Johnny pulled back, Simon reached for his present and ripped the wrapping paper off. He eyed the box for a few seconds, suspicious of its content, but finally opened it once you insisted that it was fine. To his surprise, he pulled out an old-looking camera, his eyes immediately jumping to yours the moment he realized what he was holding. “Where did you find this?” You shrugged, still wrapped in John’s arms. “Did some research. Is it the right one?” Still looking dumbfounded, he nodded. “Y-Yeah. It’s uhm…it’s the right one. Thank you.” You smiled at him, thinking back to when he opened up to you about his hobby when he was a child, how his mother had bought him a second-hand camera just so he could find some joy in life. You spent months trying to find the same model and make, and when you did find it, you knew it was the perfect present. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t realize Simon was standing right in front of you until you felt his lips against your forehead. “Thank you, love.” A smile formed on your lips as you gazed up at him. “Of course, Si.”

Kyle was next and he made quick work of the wrapping paper, just like Simon. He grinned the moment he realized what it was and skipped over, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “Thank you, sweets.” It was a quiet mumble against your lips before he kissed you again and pulled away. Johnny immediately grew curious, trying to see what you had gifted to Kyle, but the Seargent quickly pulled away, hiding the present. You giggled as you watched Johnny chase Kyle around until the left the living room, both of them yelling at each other. Simon glanced at you, a slight frown on his face. “Do we want to know?” Still giggling, you shook your head, thinking about the different colored yarn balls and crocheting needles. He had confided in you not too long ago that he wanted to try it, but was too shy around the others. You just hoped that he would see the encouragement and take it up.

“What about me?” John gently squeezed the fat on your hips, gathering your attention. “Oh.” You pointed at a small, beautifully wrapped box and Simon handed it to you. With his free hand, he took it, turning it over as if trying to guess what it was. “Just open it.” With a dark chuckle, he did, quickly shredding the paper and frowning as he saw that it was a watch box. But when he opened it, the frown disappeared and his eyes widened. “Where did you find this?”

A few months ago, during an op, his watch broke. Usually, that wouldn’t be all too bad, better the watch, that can be replaced, than his hand or wrist. But the watch was ancient, vintage as he called it and it meant a lot to him. He didn’t act like it, but it broke his heart whenever he looked at it, hidden away in the top drawer of his desk. And it broke your heart. So, together with Simon, you scoured all different kinds of jewelry stores and online until you found the exact same model, working and in good condition.

John closed the lid of the box and pulled you even closer against himself. "Thank you." His voice was barely above a whisper as he pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was gentle at first, his lips moving slowly against yours as his hand came up to cup your cheek. You melted into him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as the kiss deepened. But before it could go too far, Johnny and Kyle came barreling back into the room. “I want a hat.” The Scot was grinning at the other male. “I’m not making you a hat.” Kyle shook his head, but the grin on his face betrayed him. You and John pulled apart, him looking annoyed while you just chuckled at the familiar antics.

“Oh? You guys done?” Simon nodded as Johnny and Kyle sat down again, a smirk growing on their lips. “So, now it’s time for her presents?” And oh, there were presents. From lingerie and jewelry to plane tickets for your dream vacation. By the time you had unwrapped and opened all of them, Simon and Johnny had disappeared into the kitchen to make breakfast. “You guys are crazy. That’s way too much!” John shook his head, squeezing you tighter against him. “Nonsense. You deserve so much more.” Kyle interrupted the Captain. “And some of this may be compensation for having to put up with Johnny.” Immediately, Scottish curses sounded from the kitchen, making you chuckle.

“Thank you, guys. I love you. All of you.” John pressed a kiss to your cheeks, Kyle matching it on the other side, before both of them pulled away, making eye contact. “There is actually one more gift, wait here.” Price shifted you from his lap and sat you down on the couch, before he and Kyle disappeared, closely followed by Simon and Johnny who left the kitchen and followed the other two soldiers. You were curious but decided to be a good girl and wait patiently. While doing so, you glanced over all of your presents again, a font smile tugging on your lips. You really loved these idiots.

Someone clearing their throat pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked up, finding the four soldiers standing in front of you, naked, safe for a pretty bow wrapped around each of their cocks. “Ready for your final present, love?” They all grinned at you and you couldn’t help but grin back. Hell yes, you were ready!

A/N: If you're seeing this, it means I can finally upload again! Yay! Idk why but Tumblr wouldn't let me upload the last few days, no matter what I tried it didn't work. But whenever this goes up, I hope I can go back to my normal schedule! Love you guys!

[sunni-stuff]

Ghost hates Christmas. It's a lingering reminder of what he doesn't have.

A family, children screaming, guests talking, little hands grabbing and gifts unwrapping.

A home, warm, and snug, fireplace flickering, chestnuts roasting, dinner waiting on the table, a feast, his favorites plated near those he loves.

People who care about him once the mask comes off.

Ghost hates Christmas.

So why does Simon enjoy it?

Why does Simon snort uncontrollably when seeing Price dressed up in that stupidly ugly, itchy rudolph sweater with the glowing nose in the middle while Ghost sits in a corner, glowering at the celebration, his somber mood futile.

Why does Simon lose his shit, grinning from ear to ear as Kyle gets absolutely wasted on eggnog, nearly falling ass first into the fireplace while in the closet, buried deep, Ghost is tucked away from all the festivities.

Why does Simon melt as he sits at the dining table, mouth stuffed full of your fresh creamy mac n cheese, eating like a child starved, practically shoving Johnny out of the way for seconds when he finishes while Ghost lost everything on this day.

Ghost doesn't understand.

How can Simon smile?

How can Simon enjoy this time of year? Does he actually like that shitty knife set Gary got him? They're dull, not even sharpened properly, and wouldn't do any good even in the kitchen. But Simon hugs him, holding the gift close.

The closet door creaking made Ghost go on alert, his eyes darting to see... a child. A child who looks like Simon. She throws the door wide open, shuffling in past him and digging around for a brief moment to pull out her gift. One she hid from her papa this entire time.

A drawing.

Childish scribbles adorn the page, happy pastel colors painting a joyous picture of her and her father together. She closes the closet without sparing Ghost a glance, skipping off excitedly.

How childish, Ghost scoffs, but despite being closed off, he could sense Simon's tears, how grateful he is to be alive despite everything he's been through.

He's alive.

Maybe that's why.

[lemonlover1110]

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: Megumi receives a lot of gifts from Santa.

Warnings: Fluff

*Merry Christmas my loves, and happy holidays🫶 got a new game so don't expect a lot from me. also don't read too much into this, just enjoy the drabble!

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

Christmas morning, the most exciting morning of the year. Little Megumi is too excited to see what Santa has left for him under the Christmas tree. His birthday just passed, but that day isn’t as exciting as Christmas morning. One present is nothing compared to a mountain of gifts.

“Santa came!” Megumi barges into your bedroom, waking you and Toji first thing in the morning. Toji complains, mad that his slumber is interrupted for nothing. You, on the other hand, are as excited as Megumi. You can’t wait to see his reaction to the gifts that Santa brought for him. 

You drag Toji out in your matching pajamas, while the man complains about being exhausted. He had to keep an eye on Megumi last night, he wanted to make sure that the child wasn’t trying to catch Santa Claus at the wrong moment. 

“Can’t he wait a minute?” Toji complains, but neither of you listen to the old man. The exhaustion quickly goes away when he sees all the gifts under the tree– That’s all his money. But he won’t jump to conclusions yet… Maybe it’s just some cheap gifts, nothing to worry about.

You two take a seat on the couch as Megumi runs to get his gifts.

“What does that read, Megumi?” You ask him before Megumi tears the wrapping paper to shreds. 

“To Megumi, from mom and dad.” Megumi reads, and Toji’s eyebrows perk up. Megumi opens the gift to find a jacket, nothing too fun for the little guy who tosses it to the side.

“Hey! Let me see that!” Toji yells, and Megumi pouts as he grabs the jacket and hands it back to his father. Toji snatches it out of the child’s hands, telling him, “You could be a little more grateful.”

“Thank you.” Megumi dryly responds, as Toji reads the brand of the jacket. Like hell the gift was from the two of you, Toji is just seeing this exists.

“Expensive brand.” Toji’s eyes narrow before looking at you. You kiss his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder, a trick that always works to help him calm down.

“He’ll wear it a lot.” You respond, and Toji sighs. He guesses you’re right. Toji just hopes that not everything under that tree is as expensive.

“Santa got me a Nintendo Switch!” Megumi exclaims not even a minute later, and Toji’s hand goes over his heart. Oh, this is it. This is what’ll kill him.

“Santa?” Toji responds, slowly turning his head to look at you. You’re smirking, guilty as charged. To add more salt to the wound, Megumi yells,

“And some games!”

Toji had nearly forgotten that he hated this holiday– By the time he’ll financially recover, Christmas will roll around again.

[pathologicalreid]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everyone’s hand went up—including yours.

[p1astr81]

Christmas mixup - op81

in which: Oscar accidentally proposes to his girlfriend on Christmas Day.

pairing: Oscar Piastri x fem!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: pet names (babe), not proof read, nothing else

an: If you saw this posted earlier NO YOU DIDNT😭

۶ৎ ۶ৎ ۶ৎ ۶ৎ ۶ৎ ۶ৎ ۶ৎ

Oscar reached an outstretched arm to the top of your shared closet, being sure to select the small box that sat on the left and not the right.

You’d been dating for six years now—since you were both just seventeen years old—and you’ve been living together for about a year.

He found the most gorgeous diamond earrings while racing in Vegas last month. He thought about how much you’d love them and couldn’t resist buying them for you.

While Oscar wasn’t the best gift wrapper, he always tried his best for you. The gifts you wrapped for him always came out in pristine condition, the colorful paper hugging the boxes perfectly. He felt awful when he would carry out piles of boxes and the wrapping paper was crumpled and loose around the sides. Your wrapping job made everything look so perfect and he felt like he was ruining it. It’s just paper, you had told him, laughing it off. You could wrap it in discarded candy wrappers and it would make no difference to me.

This specific gift, he rewrapped it five times before he thought that it looked even remotely good enough. And even after that, he wrapped it three more times until he got it to be perfect.

He smiled at the small box, and took it to the tree with great care. You watched from the kitchen, chuckling as he carried the box like a newborn child.

۶ৎ ۶ৎ ۶ৎ

Christmas morning, you and Oscar sat around the tree, a cup of hot cocoa and a croissant beside the both of you.

You’d both opened almost all of your gifts already, but Oscar withheld one gift until the very end. That tiny box.

“Can I open it now?” You asked him, same as you had after every single other gift. He finally handed it over to you. “Be careful, though.” He warned, a warm smile on his face as he watched your excitement.

You ripped the paper off, and cautiously opened the box. What you saw had your eyes watering, your jaw dropped slightly. You placed the box on the floor, and your hands came up to over your mouth.

Oscar figured you would like the gift, but definitely not this much.

“Oscar,” your voice wobbled with the threat of tears that may spill. You gasped as you tried not to cry.

Oscar’s eye caught the glimmer that bounced off the shiny object, and he quickly realized he didn’t wrap the earrings. No, instead, his eyes met a shiny diamond incrusted band. Your engagement ring.

He didn’t intend to propose this early, no. He wanted to do something extravagant to propose. Not this. Not on Christmas, in your pajamas and at home. He was horrified.

“Yes, oh my god, yes.” You answered without waiting for him to actually ask the question. To you, this was entirely intentional and planned by him. You flung yourself at him, your arms coming around his neck to hug him tightly.

Oscar was significantly less horrified. Your reaction had eased him some, but he still was overcome with an immense feeling of guilt. He thought you deserved a better proposal then this.

But he would play it off. “Thank god you said yes.” He laughed.

۶ৎ ۶ৎ ۶ৎ

A week later, you were both sat on the couch, watching television. He couldn’t help but notice how often you would look down to gaze at the engagement ring on your finger.

“Babe?” He called softly. “Hm?” You hummed, your eyes peering past your lashes to meet his gaze. He could see just how happy you were. It was in the twinkle of your eyes, the curve of your lips, etched in every facial feature.

But the guilt still ate away at him. “I’m sorry it happened like that.” He struggled to meet your eyes, looking down at the band on your ring finger instead. You sat up a little straighter, concerned. “What do you mean?”

He sighed. “Well, I meant to wrap a box of earrings, but I put the two boxes next to each other and I guess I picked up the wrong one. I’m sorry. I wanted to do something big to propose to you. Not that.”

You laughed and grabbed his face. You leaned up to capture his lips with yours, kissing him softly. “There’s no way you could have proposed to me that wouldn’t be perfect. Even if it was at a farm, with a ring made of straw.” He looked in your eyes, seeing the deep love within them, and knew you were telling the truth. And he wondered, how did he get so lucky?

[mickyschumacher]

[CHÉRIE!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: heading into ferrari for a new season, you think you're pretty focused. but things don't look too good when a series of love notes from your secret admirer start appearing out of nowhere.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: so so much fluff, poor humour, charles being corny affffff, reader is lowkey oblivious, arthur being the best brother in the world, mentions of charles' hardships with monza and monaco as well as lewis' own hardships, two idiots in love basically

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3.3k

𝐀/𝐍: the last fic of my series! even though it's the cheesiest thing i've written, i love cheesy shit and even better if it's with charles! i really enjoyed writing this series! it's also the most active i've been in a while so that's been really fun. leave some requests and i might just take your offer up. // as usual, poorly proofread

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Lewis Hamilton moving to Ferrari was a shock to most. Whether it was good or bad, well that was up to the individual.  

And while Charles was very welcoming of the move, having the Lewis Hamilton as his teammate wasn’t quite the reason.  

It was you. 

Lewis Hamilton to Ferrari didn’t just bring the history, talent, and skills. It also happened to bring along his personal trainer – you.  

You hadn’t been training Lewis long. Around three years after his previous personal trainer left. There was a lot of doubt surrounding you. You were young. A bit new to the world of motorsports. And it didn’t seem like you were helping Lewis through some of his hardest years at Mercedes.  

But truth be told, underneath all of that, you happened to understand Lewis to a ‘T’. His mentality, his values, his respect, and his beliefs. They coincided with yours. Together, you could achieve the impossible, you were both sure of it. 

Unfortunately, Mercedes just had a really shitty car (and a shitty attitude). 

Cue the move to Ferrari. Which in reality was music to Charles’ ears.  

Over the past few years, Charles had managed to become friends with you. It took him a while seeing as you were slightly reserved and all over the paddock at all times. But once you had given him one of the most inspiring and encouraging talks, he had ever received after the stint Ferrari had pulled on him in Monaco, 2022 – it was safe to say you had progressed your friendship. 

To anyone with a brain and perhaps even slightly declined vision, it was plain as day that Charles was interested in you. Because someone not interested in you wouldn’t stop his interviews to say ‘Hi’ to you, get you involved in Ferrari’s YouTube videos, or walk the track every morning just so he could join you.  

2024 was an irritating year for Charles. While the SF-24 wasn’t particularly awful and Charles had still managed to win some races, there was still something missing. Not to mention, a whole Constructor’s championship. Furthermore, waiting for you and Lewis to arrive to Maranello was like telling a child to wait to open their Christmas gift – it was far too long of a wait.  

But the time had finally come. Charles had done his annual training camp and arrived to Maranello and both you and Lewis had officially settled down in the area. The first few weeks with you on the team was surreal. Charles was spending more time with you than ever. Almost every day he interrupted your lunch and sat down with you. When Lewis was in the car, he’d appear next to you, discussing smalls things like how you were finding Italy or how the car was.  

With every passing second, he spent with you, Charles was struggling to be just friends with you. Especially with the occasional rumor or ship edit of you and Lewis. Deep down, he knew there was nothing to be worried about. Lewis saw you more as a sister if anything, sharing your knowledge with him.  

It was time, however, to change this.  

Charles had planned it out carefully. Fourteen notes from your secret admirer. Plastered around all areas you visit the most within the Ferrari headquarters. One for every day up until the holiday of love itself: Valentine’s Day. 

The first five notes were relatively tame and simple, complimenting your hair or your smile or even giving you some encouragement. They were enough to get you to pull Charles and Lewis aside. 

“Guys,” you ushered, gathering the two men into a small circle. “Don’t tell anyone just yet, but for the past few days, I’ve been getting these secret notes,” you squealed quietly, holding a few of them in your hands.  

Lewis raised a brow, taking one into his hand. “Secret notes? You mean like letters from a secret admirer?” He asked, reading the note slowly.  

You paused. A secret admirer. You hadn’t really thought of the notes like that. You scratched the back of your neck awkwardly. “Oh... I’m not quite sure about that. They seem really sweet but I don’t think they mean it like that.” 

Charles pursed his lips together, in disbelief that he was watching his entire plan fall apart before his very eyes. “I mean... they probably do mean it like that,” he chuckled, trying to waver off his nervousness. He blinked at the staring expressions from you and Lewis. “I mean–who leaves compliments they could say to your face on paper if they don’t like you.” 

Huh. Now that you thought about it, that was a reasonable argument. “Maybe,” you agreed with a small nod, taking back the notes.  

Lewis shoved his hands in his pockets, moving his knowing glance from Charles to you. “Do you think they’ll ever reveal themselves?” 

Unbeknownst to you, Charles’ skin began heating up as you gave a small shrug. “Possibly. Who knows? I guess we’ll have to wait and see.” 

━━━━━━━━━━━ 

After your conversation with Charles and Lewis, your notes were starting to become only slightly less complimentary and more poetic. 

“At night, when the world falls asleep and all is still, you take over my every thought, against my will.” 

“Your laugh is a melody of my favourite music notes I wish to hear. A song for my ears only. So soft and so warm.” 

“The smile you wear, while unnoticed by all, is one I cannot forget at all.” 

Were they cheesy and corny? Yes. Absolutely.  

But were you smiling from ear to ear? A hundred percent.  

It was getting bad now. For every note you read, your heart would race against your chest, your cheeks would flush, and the world seem to go quiet. You were sure this was exactly what this person wanted.  

You couldn’t help but try figure out who the person was. But so far, there were very little personal clues in the notes. All you knew is that the person seemed to know you quite well as every note you found were in the places you visited the most. 

“Hello,” a voice sung. 

You looked up from the laptop you were supposed to be doing work on (and not daydreaming about love letters). You grinned at the familiar face. “Baby Leclerc!” 

Arthur gave you a feigned pained expression, taking a seat next to you. “You and Charles... I swear,” he sighed, resting his head on the chair as you laughed softly. He turned his head to you. “So, I hear you’ve been getting secret notes?” 

You flickered your eyes over to Arthur. “That idiot! I told Charles not to tell anyone,” you pouted.  

Things are different when your brother sends you to deliver these same notes at six in the morning. Arthur simply smiled. “Any ideas on who it is?”  

You sighed, shutting your laptop. “Nope,” you pursed your lips. You had received ten notes in total now. You had managed to pick out a few things. “I think whoever it is likes music or plays something since I’ve had three notes about music. They also might like snow since my ‘heart is as soft as the snow.’” 

Arthur pressed his lips together on a line, trying to control his body from projectile vomiting on his brother’s corny notes. “Sound like anyone you know?” He asked, watching you carefully.  

Surely by now... 

You furrowed your brows. Music and snow. Music and snow. Music and snow. Nothing. There was nothing going through your head and Arthur could tell.  

“Well,” Arthur started, standing up from his seat. “I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.” 

You smiled. “Hopefully.” 

━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Four notes were left and it was getting more difficult to not only convince Arthur to put them in the selected locations but to make sure you were able to see them. It was getting closer and closer to the date of the car launch. It was five days after Valentine’s Day, the day you were going to receive your last note and this game of hide and seek would finally come to an end.  

D-3 

“You guide me through all the noise and speed. When you’re here, I find all I need.” 

Noise and speed? Now you were thrown off. What did that mean? The noise and speed of what? 

But as you walked past the plethora of rooms working on every small or big part of Ferrari’s new car for the season, one cog turned in place. You halted in your steps, thinking very carefully as drills and machines vibrated throughout the building.  

Of course. The person had to be within Scuderia Ferrari. Your first thought – it could’ve been anyone. But noise and speed? That was Formula 1. That was at least all your engineers, mechanics, pit crew...  

You felt a hand rest on your shoulder, your name softly being called out. “Hey. You okay, chérie?” Charles queried, blue eyes looking down at you slightly concerned.  

You blinked, allowing a smile to grace your face even though it felt like the weight of his hand was burning your skin. You tried to keep your cheeks from heating up but any efforts were wasted. “Yeah, great,” you breathed. “Just figuring some things out.” 

Charles slowly nodded, removing his hand and allowing you to breathe again. “Okay,” he murmured, “I just wanted to ask. Make sure you eat and drink well, hmm? I don’t want you passing out on the launch.” 

You rolled your eyes, cheeks still burning. “Speak for yourself. Don’t think I haven’t seen you skipping lunch for the past week.” 

Charles grinned to himself. You noticed. Reality was that he was struggling to not just confess every time he saw you, so he thought cutting one part of his day with you would help. It didn’t. But, hey, at least you noticed.  

“You can just say you miss me. I won’t tell anyone, chérie. It’ll be our little secret,” he winked, starting to quickly walk past you in the hope you can’t see his flustered expression. 

You blinked blankly again, feeling your heart loudly beat in your chest.  

Holy shit.  

D-2  

“Even amongst the roar of the engine and the cheer of the crowd, you’re the only one I can hear.” 

So, you were right. Whoever this admirer was, they were dealing with Ferrari’s car in some shape or format. It was more likely to be a mechanic or engineer, maybe even a test driver. 

But one who liked music and snow? You couldn’t think of one person who fitted in all those categories.  

“Penny for your thoughts?” Lewis queried, taking a seat next to you at lunch. He mended his brows, tilting his head. “Or should I say euro?” 

You huffed, shaking your head. “Funny guy, aren’t ya?” 

“Very,” Lewis commented before nudging your shoulder. “So... what’s on your mind? A secret admirer, perhaps?” 

You rolled your eyes at his teasing tone. “Sort of. I’m just trying to figure them out. I just wish...” 

Lewis raised a brow, turning his body to yours. “You wish...?” 

You wished Charles was your secret admirer instead.  

Sure, the notes made your day. But Charles was making your day in real life... off the paper. Just this morning, you and Charles had bumped into each other after you received your note. You were about to order your usual drink when he had ordered it for you, memorising the way you liked it exactly.  

You told him you couldn’t believe he remembered. And he responded, “Of course I remember. Why wouldn’t I?”  

The moment had left you thinking for the entire day. You hadn’t seen him since but you don’t think you could look at him without being flustered and a hot mess.  

“Nothing,” you mumbled, sighing while Lewis grinned to himself. He knew exactly what you were wishing for. 

D-1 

“For every checkered flag that waves, you’re the one I look for first. Because even in a crowded room, I’ll always look for you.” 

Checkered flags were always a mess. Seconds before the race leader would even pass, the garage and the stands were always moving, running, to the podium. It was rhythm of chaos. You never knew who was next to you. All you could feel was what it felt like in the moment.  

Silverstone 2024 was for you to remember forever. Lewis’ first win since 2021 – since you had joined him as his personal trainer. The driver to have the most wins at a single circuit and it was at his home race.  

Tears were shed that day.  

And the crowd was something you would never forget. You almost lost yourself until Lewis had found you himself, thanking you for being by his side for some of the toughest years of his life.  

But for your secret admirer to find you in a crowd of a checkered flag waves... well, they must have some good eyes.  

You were lying down on a bench with Charles seated next to you and Arthur sitting across you. All of you were on your break, soaking in the tiny bit of sun that had come out during winter. 

Your eyes were shut, protecting yourself from the sun and from melting under Charles’ gaze. You could hear Arthur call your name, making your ears perk up. “What do you look for in a guy?” 

You couldn’t see it but Charles was sending the most heaviest glare he could muster to his younger brother. Arthur simply rolled his eyes, waiting for your response. 

“That’s such a random question,” you mumbled. 

Arthur cleared his throat. You were already onto him. “I mean... well, I asked Jade after I saw a TikTok of people’s responses. She said personality which is great, I guess. Kind of unsettling news for my face though,” he murmured towards the end.  

You and Charles found yourself laughing at the scenario. Arthur was truly one of a kind. Quietening down, you realised the brothers were both waiting for your answer. “Um,” you momentarily pondered, “their soul.” 

Arthur and Charles paused. The younger brother raised a brow you couldn’t see. “Their soul? What are you, a grim reaper?” 

You chuckled softly. “It’s not that... it’s–well, I think everyone has specific types of souls. You can see it when you talk to someone and get to know them. It’s someone’s essence... the fabric of who they are.” 

Charles leaned over, face hovering over you from a safe distance. “Their souls?” He repeated out of curiosity.  

You nodded. “Yep. Everyone has one. Even you.” 

Now you had full undivided attention. “Yeah? What do you think my soul is like, chérie?” 

You opened your eyes, swallowing hard when you met those baby blues. Letting out a slow exhale, you stared at him as you thought about your answers. The words seemed to come easily to you.  

“Charles... your soul dances. Purely. Freely. It dances to every fleeting moment and to the rhythm of life. Your soul finds meaning in everything because you have the biggest heart I’ve ever known. Because you are the most beautiful person I have ever met, inside and out.” 

Charles blinked, speechless. He wasn’t sure what was more touching. Your words or your sheer seriousness. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his heart at bay.  

One more day...  

That’s all he needed to wait for 

D-DAY 

“Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together? I don’t know about you but I hope they do.” 

You stared at the piece of paper. Souls? All of a sudden?  

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” a voice quietly greeted behind you. 

You turned your body despite knowing exactly who it was by the wave of warmth his voice had sent through you. “Hmm? Did you say something?” 

Charles pursed his lips. Shoving his hands in his pockets of his jacket and smiled. “I said Happy Valentine’s Day. You know... since it’s the fourteenth.” 

You nodded slowly, half processing his words while his dimples twinkled at you. “You too,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up once again. Stupid goddamn cheeks and their susceptibility to Charles.  

You watched his eyes to fall the note in your hands. “Another note?” He asked.  

You gave a small smile. “Yup.” 

Charles cleared his throat, shuffling on his feet. “What does it say today?” 

You opened your mouth, ready to start complaining. “It asks me about whether I think the universe fights for souls to be together–” 

“Well, do you?” Charles queried, softly staring at you. 

You blinked, feeling tongue-tied. “I... I-I mean yes. I’m sure the universe does but that’s not my point. My point is... is that it’s too random. Where did souls come from? This entire time it’s been music, piano, snow, noise, engines, and checkered flags... it’s so random. They’ve all been somewhat connected by now and–” 

“Chérie,” Charles called.  

“Yeah?” You responded only to be met with silence. You mended your brows together as he silently stood in front of you. Why wasn’t he saying anything? 

You felt the walls of the world close in on you as he raised his eyebrows gently. Surely not... 

Charles took a step closer to you, grabbing your hand with his. “I’m not sure about the universe, chérie. But I would love to fight for us.” 

Your mouth fell open. You think your hands were shaking. “Charles... you wrote the notes?” 

“Yeah,” he admitted, hand reaching to rub the back of his neck as his own cheeks started to burn.  

“I’ve been planning it a few days after you came to Maranello. I just didn’t know how long I could be just friends with you for but I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you then. If it isn’t clear yet,” he breathed in, thumb rubbing your hand gently, “I really really like you.” 

You gulped. Charles’ eyes were always soft. They changed when he raced. Like he could burn down the track. But today, they looked at you with such a warm and heartfelt intensity. It was the same one when he lost in Monaco and when he won.  

The same one you found searching for you in the crowd.  

Charles’ breath hitched as he felt you lean in. He watched you move your head, eyes falling to his lips. And just like that, he could feel your lips pressed onto the corner of his mouth. He steadied himself as you pull away, your thumb grazing his mouth gently.  

He flickered his eyes to your lips as the words fall freely. “I like you too.” 

Charles grinned, dimples popping out once again. His arms moved to wrap themselves around your waist, bringing you into a tight hug. He let out a relieved exhale. “Thank God,” he murmured next to your ear. 

He could feel you laugh against him and he loved it. “What did you think I was gonna say? That I didn’t like you?” You asked with a small smile as you pulled away from his body, still in his grasp. 

Charles rolled his eyes, thumb rubbing small circles into your waist. He looked at you, taking in the moment. He gave you a small shrug. “You always make me nervous,” he sighed out.  

“Me? Make you nervous?” You gaped. “I’m pretty sure I’m shaking right now.” 

A wide smile graced his face. “I’m glad I have the ability to do that.” 

You stayed silent, unsure if you could trust yourself to speak any further. You simply smiled, cheeks still burning to react to Charles while you rested in his arms. 

“Chérie,” he called softly and this time you looked back to what was yours. 

You tilted your head, waiting for him to say something.  

“You never asked me about your soul,” he stated. 

The way he said it made the comment sound factual. But you didn’t understand. “What do you mean?” You asked.  

He laughed quietly at your confused expression. Tucking your hair behind your ears, Charles rested his hands back on your waist. “I want you to ask me what I think about your soul.” 

You fell quiet for a brief second. Christ, was he sure that you were the one making him nervous? Because he sure knew how to make you speechless.  

“Okay.” You breathed, giving him a small smile. Moving your arms to his neck, you hung them and opened your mouth. “Charles, what do you think about my soul?” 

“Chérie, you said my soul dances. But your soul... it breathes. It lives. Everywhere you walk, you give life to world. You create reason.  Everything you say and do sounds like a song. Even your silence is music. Sweetheart, you make living the most beautiful gift of life.” 

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂���𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑 

[woso-dreamzzz]

Dogs: Christmas

Keira Walsh x Laura Feiersinger x Child!Reader

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle x Child!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Pup

Lucy scrubs a hand over her face, yawning as she forces her eyes not to slump closed.

Late nights and early mornings clearly didn't agree with her anymore as she watches you whizz around the room with too much energy for seven in the morning.

Keira's seemed to doze off in the armchair by the tree while Ona and Laura happily work around each other in the kitchen.

"Presents now, please?" You ask, skidding to a stop in front of Lucy, who's only just realised that your Baby Sibling has finished their bottle of milk and fallen asleep again in her arms.

Lucy yawns. "You know the rules. No presents until everyone is ready. Ona and Laura are still busy with breakfast."

"I get them!"

"No, wait, Pup-"

You're already gone though and Lucy groans, moving your Baby Sibling up and attempting to burp them.

"She has too much energy," Keira complains, voice thick with sleep.

"You're not the one that got woken up first."

Keira yawns. "That's because she knows that she's got to wait until her clock has certain numbers to come and wake me and Laura. Why do you think I taught her numbers so early? I keep telling you to do the same but-"

You come skidding in again, slip-sliding over the area of wooden flooring before you're safely on carpet again.

"Mami and Mama say nearly ready! Have little pigs in blankets for us!"

"That's-" Another yawn from Lucy "-Great, Pup. Why don't you go and separate all the gifts into piles. Can you remember how to spell everyone's names?"

Your little face falls and you shuffle anxiously on your feet. "I don't. Sorry, Mum. I forgot."

"That's alright," Keira says, sitting up and snagging a pen and pad from the table," I'll write them out and then you can match the spelling to the words you see, alright?"

"Okay!"

By the time Ona and Laura come in with a tray of pigs in blankets and other small snack food that had all been properly cooked last night, you've managed (with Keira's help) to make little piles of presents for everyone.

You sit happily in the centre of the floor with Narla and Coco.

"You aren't going to open your presents, Pup?" Laura asks.

"No, Mama. I wait."

"Pup made us all gifts," Ona says," I think she's waiting for us to open them."

It's Keira that gets to hers first. It's quite badly wrapped but that's because you and Pina ended up fighting over the wrapping paper and tape at the arts and crafts table during training.

"That's us!" You say, pointing at the little misshapen plastic charm things that hang off the bracelet. "Is you because you've got your pretty curls!"

"Oh, Pup...That's so thoughtful, sweetheart."

Lucy's misshapen charm of herself is meant to have sunglasses on her because you think she's cool while you'd painted Ona's with stripes because she's fast like a cheetah and Laura's charm's head was fat because it was meant to represent the helmet she wears when she takes you climbing.

"Alright," Lucy says, hands covering your eyes," Now it's time for big presents. One from me and your Mami and one from your Mummy and Mama, alright?"

You try to pry Lucy's hands from your eyes. "And then tea time? Want to try my new puppy mug."

Lucy laughs. "Yes. Big presents and then we'll go and make a big brew so you can try out your new puppy mug."

"You ready, Pup?" That's Keira now.

"I'm ready!"

"Now," Lucy says," This one is from me and Mami."

Her hands peel away and you blink your eyes into focus.

Ona is standing behind a massive box.

"It's for your room in London," She says," Lucy's going to drill these into the wall for you."

"Like the climbing gym Mama take me too!"

"Exactly like that," Ona laughs," A little rock climbing wall just for you in the house with Mum!"

"Wow!" You say, eyes wide and face beaming with happiness," Thank you, Mum! Thank you, Mami!"

Lucy ruffles your hair. "You'll be the best climber in the world in no time!"

Keira rolls her eyes. "You better make sure those panels are secure, Lucy, otherwise you'll be in major trouble."

Lucy grins. "I've got this, don't worry."

Keira's hands covers your eyes now and you sit up properly again.

"And this big present is from me and Mama," She says," You're going to have to be very still and very quiet, can you do that?"

"I can."

"Good girl. I knew you could."

There's silence for a long while and then someone - Ona, you think - gasps.

"Kie, you didn't..." Lucy says.

There's a bit of movement in front of you and something wet comes across your cheek.

"Merry Christmas, Pup," Laura says as Keira removes her hands from your eyes.

Mismatched eyes stare back at you, a little tongue poking out of a little mouth and a little tail thumping against Laura's body.

"Puppy!"

Keira laughs. "Yeah, Pup, your Christmas puppy."

"My Christmas puppy? Mine?"

"Of course," Laura says," A puppy just for Pup."

"Is...Is a boy puppy or a girl?"

"It's a girl, Pup."

"I..." You look between your parents. From Keira to Laura and then from Ona to Lucy. "I...My book please? My puppy book?"

"I'll get it," Lucy says, standing up with your Baby Sibling in her arms," This one needs to be put down for a nap anyway."

You go flipping through your dog encyclopaedia the moment you're given it, trying to match a page in your book to the puppy in front of you.

You find it eventually, turning the book around for the puppy to say.

"This you," You tell her and you're pretty sure her tail wags even harder. "You're from...Mummy, what this word?"

"Australia, Pup. We went to Australia for the World Cup, do you remember?"

You don't actually but you nod anyway, looking back to your puppy.

"You're from Aus-tra-lia so...So you're like Bluey! Bluey's from there."

Your puppy wages her tail super hard.

"So...I call you Bluey. Merry Christmas, Bluey!"

[pitchsidestories]

the wish II Ingrid Engen x Mapi León x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1340

summary: Mapi and Ingrid are looking for a special gift to give it reader for Christmas. requested

author's note: dear readers, we hope @briggtea and you all will enjoy the wholesome oneshot. 💜💜

You smiled when you saw the sign on the door that said they were filming for a social media post outside on the pitch. Those videos were always a lot of fun. You never knew what the question of the day would be when you walked out to training, it kept you on your toes.

You opened the door curiously, excited to answer whatever the social media department came up with.

“Bon dia, girls. I’ve a question for you. What was your favourite football shirt as a child?”

The question made your face light up immediately. Childhood memories of yourself watching hours upon hours of football flooded your brain. You wanted to be exactly like your idols, so you begged for their shirts for birthdays and Christmases every year.

Mapi who walked out in front of you didn’t hesitate and winked at the camera: “Puyol for me.“

“Any Barcelona one for me too.“, Ellie replied politely before turning towards you, “What about you, y/n?”

You thought about it for a moment, trying to find the perfect answer: “I’m afraid I don’t really have a favourite but there was one I always wanted and never got.“

“Tell us.“, Ellie demanded with a big grin.

“But that wasn’t the point of the question, was it?”, you smirked.

“Doesn’t matter, keep going.“, directed the social media manager.

You shrugged and finally revealed: “I always wanted a Marta jersey.“

As you were about to continue to walk towards the pitch, Ingrid appeared by your side. She studied your side profile with watchful eyes: “Was there a special reason? I mean to why you didn’t get it?”

You shook your head: “No, I just never got it.“

A plain and simple explanation now but when you were young, you were heartbroken about the fact. You adored everything the Brazilian did, from her skills to the way she spoke about women’s football.

She was so good that she was even recognised by male football players at a time when the sport was still target of a lot of ridicule. For you, she was the greatest football player ever back then. In fact, you still looked up to her today.

“That’s sad. Alexia, Caro, Ona? What were your favourite shirts growing up?”, the social media manager moved on to the next players that left the dressing room.

“Mine was Messi!”, Vicky yelled from behind them to which Alexia only rolled her eyes.

“Messi, of course. I loved my Ronaldinho one.“, the captain with a nostalgic smile on her lips.

Vicky frowned at her: “Who?”

“You don’t know who Ronaldinho is?!”, Alexia and you synchronously asked with dismay.

“Just kidding.“, the young player laughed.

You shook your head about her: “Can’t believe you’d joke about something like that!”

“I know. That’s why I had to.“, she smirked back.

“You’ll get that back.”, Alexia warned her with a mischievous twinkle in her hazel eyes. The captain already busy thinking about what she could do to return the joke.

While your team warmed up, Mapi bumped her arm softly into your girlfriend’s side to receive her attention. “You know what, Ingrid?”

“What?”, the Norwegian frowned.

“I think I’ve the perfect idea for y/n’s Christmas present this year.”, the older defender told her proudly.

Mid exercise Ingrid stopped moving, eagerly waiting for her lover to continue: “Tell me.”

“A Brazil Marta jersey.”, Mapi whispered because you were nearby, but luckily too focused on the training to hear what they were saying.

The taller woman’s face lit up in delight at the Spaniard’s suggestion: “That’s a great idea. I’m sure we can get her an original one even and she’ll love it.”

“I hope so.”, the heavily tattooed defender replied optimistically.

The weeks before Christmas were hectic, but at times beautiful, for example, when you strolled with the Barcelona team around Gamla stan, Stockholm’s old town which was prettily decorated for the festive season.

During the walk Mapi couldn’t stop taking photos of her surroundings including Ingrid and you. Memories forever captured on camera film.

The Christmas days the three of you spend in Norway, close to Ingrid’s family, the New Years Eve you all would be back in Spain to celebrate the arrival of 2025 with your friends.

For a moment you looked at the window, watching the snowflakes dance in front of it. Your girlfriends and you already had a delicious evening dinner.

Now it was the time to unpack the presents which lay underneath the Christmas tree. All three of you were filled with giddy excitement and couldn’t wait to see the reaction of your loves when they’d open what you gifted them.

“Okay, who’s starting to unpack the first present.”, you clapped excitedly into your hands.

A bright grin was formed on Mapi’s lips as she volunteered, she was fully covered in the warmest blanket to keep herself warm: “I’ll start.”

“This is from y/n and me.”, Ingrid explained solemnly handing her the beautifully and careful wrapped box.

Once the Spaniard glanced into the insides, she glanced up in awe. “You girls are the cutest. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. We spotted this and immediately thought that’s so Maria.”, you hummed.

In a pleasant tone the Norwegian added: “And we know you love everything coffee related.”

Both of you knew that the older defenders love for coffee ran so deep she even got it permanently inked to her skin. On a rare free day, you three loved to spend your time in trying out new coffeeshops.

“I’ll be on coffee duty tomorrow morning to try this out.”, Mapi decided cheerfully.

“We hoped you’d say that.”, you chuckled.

“Of course, you two did.”, she smiled amusedly.

Clearing your throat you quickly changed the topic:” Ingrid, you’re next.”

The Norwegian started to unwrap her present patiently, folding the paper neatly until it revealed a dainty golden necklace.

“Oh my god, girls. You didn’t need to. Thank you so much.“

“You’re welcome, amor.“, Mapi said softly as she helped her put the necklace on.

“You deserve it.“, you agreed.

“I really appreciate it.“, Ingrid beamed.

You both leaned over to simultaneously press kisses to her cheeks which made Ingrid immediately turn red.

“So I guess it’s my turn now.“, you finally said, pulling the only gift left under the tree into your lap.

Mapi nodded with excitement: “Yes, open it!”

You could feel your breath hitch when you saw a sliver of yellow fabric peaking out from the wrapping paper. It couldn’t be. There was no way.

“It’s a Marta jersey!”, you finally confirmed delighted, holding up the Brazil shirt.

Ingrid nodded, pointing at the back with your idols name and number on it: “It’s even signed.“

“No way!”

“Do you like it?”, Mapi asked impatiently.

You shook your head, lost for words. The little girl inside of you was jumping with joy and you suddenly felt emotional for her. “No. I love it. You know when we were kids, we only had male role models and Marta was the first female one for me…“

“And now you finally have her shirt.“, Ingrid concluded.

“Thank you so much. This might be the most thoughtful present I’ve ever received.“, you said as you blinked away the upcoming tears.

“Admittedly we had some help with it.“, Mapi laughed lightheartedly.

“From our fellow football friends?”, you asked.

Ingrid nodded: “Special thanks to Geyse.“

“And our social media team for asking you that question.“, Mapi added.

You couldn’t help yourself, you had to slip the shirt over your Christmas sweater. You pulled your two girlfriends into a tight hug: “Thank you, sweethearts. This might be one of my favourite gifts ever.“

“We’re glad you like it.“, Mapi smiled and gently kissed you forehead. “Look, it started to snow again!”

“This is beautiful.“, you said while staring out the window where big snowflakes fell, starting to cover Ingrids hometown in a layer of white.

Ingrid pulled you and Mapi in towards her as you stood there and watched on: “It truly couldn’t be anymore perfect than this.“

Christmas/Winter Oneshots

if you enjoyed this story reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated !

[evie-sturns]

your christmas gift to matt 🎄

———————————————

it was coming to the end of the present opening, matt sits in a pile of teared up wrapping paper with the largest grin you’ve possibly ever seen on his face. his cheeks are a rosy red from the heating, which was definitely cranked up to the max after you kept complaining about how cold it was in this house.

“i love all of it- i mean how did you even think of this! i’ve wanted it for ages but i never said anything! it’s like you read my mind or some shit.” matt laughs excitability, a big smile spread across his face as he holds up the lego batman set you got him. “what can i say- you’re literally batman!” i tease, “i just sensed your aura, had to get the set for you.” i smile.

matt laughs, scooping up all of the wrapping paper around him and stuffing it in the bin bag.

he was just so clueless about what you had in store for him.

you and matt had been dating for 3 years now, you didn’t want kids, definitely not yet atleast, but there was one thing matt wanted, more than anything, which is basically the same concept…. all he yaps about is this one thing, he could never make the commitment to buy it, never. but you definitely could.

“matt- i have one last present for you.” i speak, fidgeting with your hands nervously. confusion washes over him, “but we already unwrapped everythi-“ he speaks, but he stops as i stand up, walking to behind the couch and pulling out a box. loosely wrapped in green christmas tree wrapping paper. his eyebrows furrow, as he stares at it.

i sit down on the floor infront of him, clutching the box in your lap.

“i uhm- hope you’re not too mad at me for this purchase- but you’ve always talked about it and-“ i ramble on and on, trying to downplay the present i just got him. “you’re edging me jesus.” he laughs, running a hand through his hair.

i place the box in his lap, and he instantly starts unwrapping it, to reveal a large cardboard box…

‘meeow’ a familiar noice booms throughout the box. matt’s head instantly snaps up to look at me, his lips slightly parted. his eyes are wide as he freezes. “no you didn’t-“ he instantly speaks, his voice soft and panicked. i gnaw on my bottom lip nervously as i look at him.

he gently lifts open the flaps of the cardboard box, peeking inside.

a cat. you had got him a cat. a fluffy white kitten, with bright blue eyes of course, to match matt’s.

his hand trembles as he reaches inside the box, gently lifting the small animal out. he clutches the kitten to his chest, holding it like it’s made of glass. his hands are fully shaking now, i can’t see his face due to the fact his hair is flopped infront of his as he looks down at it.

he’s fully silent, my heart thumps as i wait for any sort of reaction, but he just clings to the cat. his large hands almost covering the whole thing.

“do you- do you like it??” i speak nervously.

matt nods silently, before looking up at me with tear filled eyes, “i lov- i love her.” his voice breaks as he gently places the cat down in the box. he’s crying, oh my god.

“oh- aw matt-!” i laugh with a smile as he wipes at his eyes frantically. i pull him into my chest as he lets out a loud hiccup, his tears streaming down his face and dripping onto my christmas sweater.

“i’m sorry- i’m just really happy.” he sobs out through a laugh, his arms wrapped around my waist deathly tight. “i’ve always wanted- a cat and- and now we have one and-“ he cries, pulling away from my chest to lift the kitten out of the box. his whole body shaking as he holds it like his firstborn child. “i love her- i love you- thank you so much this is the best thing that’s ever happened-“ he rambles,

i feel my own emotions start to surface as i look at him, god i am so inlove with this man.

——————-

@ilovemymannnnnnn n @sturnioloxlver r @buckys-goodgirl rl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl l girl @luvr4miya a @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit t @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts s @333michelle @h3arts4harry @jamiesturniolo o o @chrisstopherfilmed @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 s2 @ev3rgreenxtrees ees @certifiednatelover er @solarsturniolo lo @mattsenthusiast t t @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0tripletzz @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @mattsonlybitch h @justalittle47 @sunsetsturniolos s@sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn n @raysmayhem-72 2 @75sturn n @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 1 1 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz 4 @sassysturniolo2008 @sunsetsturniolos ver r @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall

[candycandy00]

I’ve Been a Naughty Girl! - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic

The mall Santa is hot as hell, and your friends dare you to sit on his lap and tell him you’ve been a very naughty girl! 

Smut. 18+. Sukuna as a mall Santa. Fem Reader. Very rough (but consensual) sex and oral sex. Cream pies. 

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!

Part of CandyCandy’s Kinkmas 2024!

The mall is crowded, full of busy shoppers buying last minutes gifts. It’s only three days until Christmas after all. To be honest, you enjoy the hustle and bustle, the excited energy that seems to fill the mall along with the holiday music blasting through the speakers. 

Every store has garland covered in clear lights draped across the aisles, wreaths hang on every door, and in the very center of the mall stands an enormous Christmas tree. 

Your friends came along with you to pick up some items, and the four of you are having a blast. Especially when you walk by the giant tree. At the base of it, there’s a roped off section where kids are lined up to meet “Santa Clause”. 

One by one they sit on his lap, tell him what they want for Christmas, and smile for the commemorative photo. You have fond memories of doing that as a kid, but you don’t remember Santa ever looking like this. 

You and your friends all stop and stare, your mouths slightly open and your eyes wide. Because this Santa is hot as hell. He’s huge, tall and muscular enough to make the big red chair he’s sitting in seem tiny. The fake beard does little to cover the black tattoos on his face, and pink hair is sticking out of the back of his hat.

The kid on his lap is screaming, throwing a loud tantrum while the mother seemingly pays it no mind. The little boy is yelling about some kind of toy he wants that the store is sold out of, demanding that Santa make one for him and bring it Christmas morning. 

You watch as the buff Santa leans down and whispers something into the kid’s ear. The boy instantly falls silent, looking up at Santa with a terrified expression. The boy doesn’t move a muscle or make a sound until the photo is taken and his confused mother pulls him off Santa’s lap. 

“Wow,” one of your friends says beside you, “I wouldn’t mind being on his naughty list.”

You laugh and say, “Same. He can deck my halls any time!”

All of you giggle, then your friends start to walk away. You stay rooted to the spot, still watching the man. There’s an animalistic attraction drawing you to him, something primal and powerful. You just can’t look away from him. 

Your friends look from you to the Santa, probably noticing the look of lust in your eyes. 

“Just go talk to him,” one of them says. 

“And say what?” you ask. “I can’t just walk up to the mall Santa and tell him I wanna fuck him!”

Your friend grins. “Actually, you can. Get in line and go sit on his lap.”

“Oh come on, that’s for kids! They’d probably kick me out of the mall for that,” you say. 

Your other friends have stepped back over, wearing excited expressions. 

“Do it!” one of them cheers. 

“I dare you!” the other says. 

You look back toward the Santa, and his eyes suddenly shift up, meeting yours. A smile spreads over his face, but it’s not the jolly Santa smile you expected. This is a devious, predatory smile. All teeth. 

God, you’re already getting wet. 

“Okay, I’ll do it,” you announce. “But if I get in trouble you guys better be ready to bail me out!”

Your friends laugh and playfully push you toward the line. When you get there, the kids and parents give you looks ranging from confused to offended. It’s embarrassing to be standing there, but it’s the only idea you have for talking to this very sexy Santa. 

The wait is torture. With every child that takes their turn, you get closer, and you grow more nervous. What if he thinks you’re being ridiculous? What if you just imagined the attraction in his gaze when he smiled at you? 

Oh well, it’s too late to back out now. The child in front of you in line is smiling for the photo, and you’re next. 

When it’s your turn, the “elf” ushers you forward, seeming completely disinterested in an adult wanting to meet Santa. Maybe others have done this today. You wouldn’t be surprised. 

You gather your courage and walk over to Santa. You’ve been mentally rehearsing what you’re going to say, how you’re going to get him all riled up. You’re hoping to leave with his number. 

He pats his lap when you’re standing right in front of him, and you giggle nervously as you sit on one of his muscular thighs. As soon as you do, he reaches down and pulls both your legs up, so that you’re fully sitting across his lap. His hand is resting on your thighs, just above your knees. 

You’re so glad you wore a short skirt today. 

The “elf” suddenly looks concerned, their eyes darting about to see if anyone else is noticing this inappropriate scene. They’re probably wondering if they should say something. In that case, you should probably act fast. 

“Santa, I’ve been a very naughty girl this year,” you tell him in your sweetest voice. 

His grip on your thigh tightens slightly. “I happen to like naughty girls,” he replies, his voice deep and smooth. “So what do you want for Christmas?”

You giggle again, shifting just a little, enough for him to feel your ass moving in his lap. Then you lean in close to his ear and say, “I want a big, tall guy with tattoos to fuck me until I can’t walk.”

You expected his eyes to widen in surprise, perhaps a shocked expression. But no, this Santa simply grins at you. “If that’s what you want, I can give you your present right now.”

Huh? Right now?!

He slides you off his lap and stands up, taking you by the hand and leading you away from the chair. The elf looks horrified. 

“Hey, your break’s not for another hour!”

Some of the kids begin whining, crying out, “Where are you going, Santa?”

A parent huffs an incredulous, “We’ve been waiting in line for thirty minutes!”

Santa has nearly pulled you to the edge of the roped off area before he stops and turns back to look at them all. He gives them a look. Just a single glance, and it’s enough to silence them all. Then he lifts the rope, pulls you under it with him, and heads to the south end of the mall. 

You let yourself be pulled. With every step, your heart beats faster. Where is he even taking you?

He makes a turn down a hallway, toward the restrooms. Is he going to fuck you in a stall? But no, he walks right past them and through a door clearly marked as “Employees Only”. 

Your excitement builds even more. Now you really do feel naughty, stepping into a section of the mall you’re not supposed to be in. As a kid you once snuck into an area like this in another mall, and even though nothing happened, you still felt like such a rebel. That same feeling is creeping back into your mind. Because this time, something will definitely happen. 

He leads you past several doors, probably break rooms and offices, before opening one and pulling you inside. It’s pitch dark until he flips on the light switch, revealing an empty office. There’s a couple of desks but no computers on them or even chairs to sit on. You suppose that’s why no one is using it. 

The lock on the door clicks, and your heart nearly stops. You turn to face him, but just as you do, he suddenly rushes forward, pushing you against the nearest wall in the cramped little room and covering your mouth with his. You don’t even remember when he pulled the fake beard off. 

Apparently he’s not interested in chatting or even exchanging names. “Santa” it is then. 

You raise your arms when he pauses to pull your sweater up and over your head, then unhook your bra yourself just to speed things up. You’re as hungry for him as he seems to be for you. 

He yanks down your skirt, leaving you in cute candy cane striped panties and your red ankle boots. Before stripping you any further, he practically tears off the black leather belt around his waist and jerks open his red Santa coat. 

Oh. Oh god. Those tattoos line his well sculpted torso, absolutely mesmerizing you. Your mouth goes dry, your pussy gets wetter, and you can’t resist putting your hands on his chest, tracing the black inky lines with your fingers. 

He allows you a few seconds to admire his body, then puts one firm hand on your bare shoulder. “Kneel,” he says in an authoritative tone that sends a shiver down your spine. 

You’re happy to comply, dropping to your knees in front of him as he unbuttons his pants. You watch with breathless excitement as he lowers his pants slightly and pulls out the biggest cock you’ve ever seen. In thickness and in length, no other cock can even compare. Fuck, he’s going to wreck you. 

Leaning forward, you place one hand on the meaty organ. Your fingers can’t even reach all the way around it, but you begin stroking it anyway before giving it a few kitten licks just to tease him. When you look up, you realize he’s not a man to be teased. 

Not the least bit amused, he says, “Open your mouth, naughty girl.”

You open as widely as you can, and he shoves into your mouth, instantly hitting the back of your throat. You gag, but keep yourself under control. He grips your hair with one hand and begins pumping in and out, your lips automatically tightening around him while your tongue fights to keep moving along his length. Your throat’s going to be raw tomorrow, but right now you don’t care.  

He keeps moving, keeps shoving himself down your throat while holding your head steady. You’ve never had your mouth fucked so aggressively before, but it’s got you so turned on, your hand slips down the front of your panties. 

You hear him laugh above you as his grip on your hair tightens. “You really are a naughty girl, huh?”

His cock is throbbing in your mouth, his pulse quickening as your throat constricts around his tip. You think he’s close, but it’s another five minutes before he pulls almost completely out and then shoots his entire hot sticky load onto your tongue. His cum floods your mouth, so much that you’re struggling to swallow it all fast enough to take a breath. 

When you finally get it all down, you pant for a few minutes. He helps you to your feet, which is likely the closest you’re going to get to gentlemanly behavior. 

Which is fine. There’s plenty of sweet guys you can call if you wanna be fucked like a delicate princess. Today, you want to be ruined. 

His hands are on your hips before you have time to be shocked that he’s hard again already. With one jerk, your panties are in shreds. Then he’s lifting you up by your waist and shoving you against the wall, his own body pinning you there, your feet dangling above the floor. 

He wastes no time with talking or asking if you’re ready. He knows you’re drenched and practically in tears, wanting him inside you as soon as possible. So he buries himself completely in your warm, tight pussy, going all the way in, pressing into your cervix. 

For a moment, you see stars. You open your mouth but no sound comes out. But then he begins thrusting, and you find your voice. 

“F-fuck…! S’too big!”

He grins down at you. “Oh? I thought a naughty girl like you could take me.”

Not wanting to be outdone, you wrap your legs around him and clench as tightly as you can, your hands moving up to hold onto his shoulders. “I can take you, Santa,” you say, though your voice is shaky. 

You’ve never felt so full in your life. It’s like he’s hollowing you out. But your arousal is dripping out around him and you can feel your pulse in your clit. His hard body rubs across it with every thrust, leaving you moaning and babbling. 

“So good… gonna cum… please let me cum, Santa!”

“Not yet,” he says, fucking into you even harder. You whine and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your teary face into his wide shoulder. Your whole body is trembling. 

He suddenly shoves in so deep, you think he’s in your rib cage. “I’ve got an extra special present for this naughty little pussy,” he says. “So take it!”

With that, thick ropes of cum shoot inside you, even more than he shot in your mouth. And as he’s filling you up, he says, “Now you can cum.”

You release all the tension in your body, stop fighting the raging orgasm that’s been beating on your door, begging to be let loose. You cum so hard you cry, clinging to his neck while you quiver in his arms and his cum continues spilling into you. 

Once it’s over, your spent legs slide from his body and he pulls out, letting your feet touch the floor again. Cum pours out of your pussy, dripping down your thighs while you pant and lean against the wall. 

After a few minutes, you stumble over to an empty desk and place one hand on it to keep yourself steady. 

“Uh oh, looks like you can still walk,” you hear Santa say. With wide eyes you look back at him. He’s grinning that same predatory grin. “Guess I haven’t granted your wish yet.”

You can only let out an exhausted groan as he bends you over the desk and lifts one of your shaky legs up, plunging his cock back into your sticky, cum filled cunt. 

Maybe you bit off a little more than you can chew with this Santa. But it’s a Christmas you’ll never forget. 

As his hand reaches down and around to rub your aching clit, you cry out in pleasure, your fingernails scratching the chipped paint on the desk. And you realize he’s just getting started. 

He laughs when you start babbling again, fucking you even harder as he says, “Looks like you’re getting what you want for Christmas, naughty girl!”

Tag List:

@coldluminarykoala @atomicweaselpaperapricot @chocoyanchan @calculust-prime 

[aubvrns]

"Longer Than A Fortnight"

| SVU & Headcanons

Synopsis — Their love languages towards you, and the kind they want to receive.

Note — Olivia Benson, Elliot Stabler, Alexandra Cabot, Casey Novak

(Female centered, but no pronouns used.)

———————————————————————

!!

Olivia Benson

• — Olivia Benson is 100% acts of service.

• — She is the kind of lover that will tie your shoelaces, even if she’s running late.

• — WILL AND I MEAN WILL, do the simplest tasks for you just because she can!

• — "What you do mean you went out to get groceries? Without me?"

• — Her way of saying "I love you." is to comb your hair after you finished showering, and she asks you to sit on her lap as she does. (biting my fists rn)

• — Though, she craves for words of affirmation.

• — She didn’t grow up in a home where she felt appreciated, nor did she ever felt the comfort of her parents.

• — But she knew she loved you when you told her the sweetest sentence ever.

• — "I love you so much that you make me get out of bed to get groceries."

• — Seconds later, you felt arms behind you. Not long enough before your shoulder dampens.

Elliot Stabler

• — This man is so quality time.

• — He knows he has a dangerous job that occupies his time, hours and hours in the precinct.

• — But any chance he gets, he will come home to you.

• — "Pack your bags, we’re going to Italy!"

• — He’s afraid of losing you, or letting you go to the plane’s bathroom because you’re comfortable in his arms.

• — Amidst the turbulence, he enjoys your physical touch.

• — From all the abuse and torment he witnessed, it’s rare for him to feel safe nowadays.

• — That’s why he isn’t afraid to admit that he loves the way you kiss his forehead, trace patterns on his gentle calloused hands, or spooning him when he gets nightmares.

• — "Italy won’t run away, let’s just stay 5 more minutes in bed."

• — More so, your vanilla scented hair was his view of a vacation.

Alexandra Cabot

• — Shoot me when I say this blonde’s love language isn’t giving gifts.

• — Being a lawyer with an amazing conviction rate also means having money, money, money!

• — She enjoys spoiling you, giving you everything you need and want just because she can. She refuses to let you reach for your wallet, at all.

• — "I bought the necklace you stared at earlier!"

• — Besides your lips, Ms. Cabot also tracks your eyes. (i would like to have you for christmas)

• — Staring at you, she never noticed how much she longed for acts of service.

• — Her parents were always away, and she was left alone. Her parents’ money were their way of saying they’re sorry they couldn’t come to her graduation.

• — She was surprised when you called in sick, even though she was the one coughing like there’s no tomorrow.

• — "What do you mean I could’ve bought myself medicine instead of your necklace?"

• — You can’t help but smile as you sat beside her laying body, wiping her warm face with a wet cloth as she explains how much your necklace reminds her of your eyes.

Casey Novak

• — This redheaded loser in a hot body cannot go on a day without physical touch.

• — She was raised as an affectionate child, expressing her love greatly as her parents did.

• — Her auburn hair is as warm as her as you lay between her arms, her face on the crook of your neck as she sleeps soundly.

• — "If only court saw how soft and adorable you are when you sleep, you wouldn’t seem so intimidating." You say, playing with her hair.

• — Smiling lovingly, she unconsciously pulls you closer.

• — Aside from her comfort, she adores your words of affirmation.

• — She was the kid who would wait in her teachers’ approval, hoping that she did good enough for their expectations.

• — Luckily for her, she didn’t have to wait anymore.

• — "You think I look soft and adorable when I sleep? I think I want to kiss you right now."

• — And she did, like the soft and adorable loser she is.

!!

[whorekneecentral]

Family's Growing

Kylian Mbappe x Fem!Reader

Warnings: kylian has baby fever, dirty thoughts, baby talk, breeding, oral (f!receiving), fingering, penetrative sex (p in v), breeding/pregnancy kink goes burrrr, daddy used in a sexual context, begging, creampies, finger fucking and sucking lol, cum play.

Word Count: 1,615

Author's Note: okay I'm finally back on track with these - yes I know Tuesday is over but please look past that lol.

merry smutmas series

--

Kylian finds himself swooning over how good you are with his niece and nephew, the thought of having a family with you spins around his head. 

Christmas was a time for family and that seemed to be the only thing on your boyfriend's mind.

The two of you had gone over to his parents' place for Christmas dinner, all of his cousins were there as well as their kids. Kylian was not the favourite uncle for no reason, all of them knew they were getting good gifts in bountiful amounts too.

The tree in the living room that was once full with presents were now opened, the floor covered in wrapping paper. It was only two kids, his cousin's son and daughter, and Ethan if you counted him as well; and yet, it seemed like Kylian had bought the entirety of Paris for them.

Kylian watches as you lay on the floor with his niece and nephew, the three of you putting together a tower made of legos, whispering and giggling as you built the tower.

He smiles to himself as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. A part of him isn't sure what he did to be so lucky, to have a career as great as his and to have a girlfriend who's so loving and kind and supportive. You loved his family like your own, right now was a prime example.

Seeing you with kids always did something for him, you had a maternal nature about you, anyone who met you could see that.

The thought crossed his mind many times, how nice it would be to start a family with you. You two had spoken about it ages ago, when you began dating. You both decided that you'd revisit the idea when you were more stable in life and that you were now. Both you and Kylian were stable in careers, you two lived together, you had been together for a while and you had the means to raise a child.

He couldn't see where it would be a no.

As much as he wanted a kid with you, the idea of making a kid was much more appealing.

Clothes on the floor, hands all over each other, watching as you begged him to cu- "You okay?" Ethan asks his older brother, breaking his thought.

Kylian clears his throat. "Yeah," he nods, a smile on his face as you glance over your shoulder at him.

"They love her," Ethan nods towards you with the kids, "y/n's always been good with them."

"She was good with you too," Kylian teased his brother. You two had begun dating just before his World Cup win, the two of you barely 18 years old and Ethan was 12 - still a child in his brother's eyes and he always will be.

Ethan rolls his eyes at his brother's comment.

After some time, the kids started to get tired which was their parents' signal to head out. You and Kylian left not too shortly after that as well.

Your boyfriend finds you in the kitchen after he changes for bed, his arms wrapped around you from behind whilst your elbows propped on the counter as you waited for the kettle to boil.

"Something on your mind, baby?" You asked him, twirling the string attached to your tea bag.

"Just thinking."

"About?"

Kylian hums. "Kids."

His answer catches you off guard, you turn to face the man with a confused look on your face. "Kids?"

He shrugs, smiling. "Seeing you with the little ones today, I don't know - it got me thinking. It'd be nice to have our own, don't you think?" His hand rests on your hip, thumb disappearing under the hem of your shirt.

A glance at your boyfriend's hand, your eyebrows raised. "Do you really mean having kids or making kids?"

You can't help the laugh, kissing your boyfriend. The man wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him. Kylian picks you up, holding you tightly as he kisses you and carries you over to the couch.

Kylian puts you down, sitting on the couch for a moment as he looks at you. You take that as your sign to undress.

The silk shorts sliding down your smooth legs, pooling by your ankles before you step out of them, you pull off the tank top and that leaves you in the blue set he loves. You reach behind to unhook your bra but Kylian stops you, “leave it on.” 

He pulls you by your waist back to him, his hand slipping down to rest on your ass before giving it a smack. You’re quiet, looking down at your boyfriend on the couch. 

He puts you to lay on the couch, he’s sat between your legs with one on either side of him. You’ve propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him and Kylian drags his fingers up your thigh, moving to your clothed pussy. 

“I like this,” he tells you, fingers rubbing over the blue lace. 

You smile, “I know.” 

He pulls the panties to the side, his eyes fixed on your pussy. He gives you no warning, pushing his fingers into you. The sound leaving your mouth was like heaven on earth to him. 

Kylian's fingers curl upwards, your back arching at the feeling. 

“Keeks, please.” your hand reaches down to wrap on his wrist but he swats your hand away, managing to pull both to rest on your stomach and his free hand over your hands, pinning them to your stomach. 

You try to wiggle your hands away from him, trying to grab on something. “Behave.” He tells you, adding another finger. 

Your face twists, pleasure all across it and our hands stop wiggling, he smiles, satisfied. 

Kylian can feel it; he knows you’re close, you’re squeezing on his fingers, your thighs trying to close, trying to squirm away from the pleasure. 

He can feel your eyes on him, he reaches for the blue lace you’re wrapped up in and tugs it down your legs, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of your clothes. He shifts to lay on his stomach between your legs, leaving a trail of kisses as he works his way up to your cunt. 

Your eyes meet his, he knows you’re looking. He wants you to look at him. 

Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair. 

Kylian knew you like the back of his hand, gripping your thighs to keep them in place as his tongue lapped your clit. Your hips buck, your way of saying you want more, he gives in. 

"Please," you whimpered.

"What, mon ange ? Tell me."

You look at the man between your legs. "Fuck me."

There was no hidden meaning behind it; no scolding, no need to hurry him up - you wanted him and that was it. 

“Gonna let me fill you up princess? Hm?” He asks, shifting to line himself up with your cunt. You nodded eagerly, your leg hitching on his hip.

At this point, you can’t do much except lay there and take it; not that you don’t want to because you do, you really do. 

The tip of his cock brushing over your clit before moving to push into you. Your back arches, hips jutting forward to meet his.

Hard and rough, not enough to hurt you but enough to tell you that he's in charge.

Kylian wanted to hear you.

His hand now on your chin. “C’mon amour, let me hear all those pretty sounds you make.” He says, the angle you were at puts him deeper than before.

The slightest movements and you can feel it in your stomach. It’s like he can hear your thoughts because his hand moves from your chin to your stomach. His big hand spread over your stomach, “you’d look so pretty with a baby in you, hm?”

Kylian lets you fall back onto the couch, both of his hands on your hips. “Maybe I should fuck one into you.”

His name falls from your lips like a prayer, he could listen to you say it over and over again. You were close enough that you could taste it.

“So good for me, you take it so well.” He whispers to you, kissing under your ear.

“Uh huh,” you breathe, leaning back against him, your legs felt like jello under you. Your head drops back onto the couch, begging him to let you cum.

He lets you drop back, back arched for him once again. He feels you cum around him, the wetness covering his cock. It’s not long after, followed by a few sloppy thrusts, that Kylian cums too.

The tip of his cock brushing between your folds, spreading his cum all over your pussy.

He pulls away, smiling at the whimper he gets from you. His fingers replacing his cock, covered in his cum when you roll over, he sticks his fingers in your mouth and he doesn’t have to tell you what to do.

“Good girl,” he hums, watching as your tongue laps over his fingers. Kylian pulls his fingers away, leaning down to kiss you. A mess of the two of you, not sure where one of you starts and the other ends.

You lay there for a while, Kylian on top of you, your leg tossed on his hip as his head rests on your sternum. Your fingers drag over his shoulders, the man humming quietly.

"We should do that again," he whispers.

You laughed, "keep it up and we'll end up with a baby by next Christmas."

Kylian nods, kissing you. "Let's try again then."

--

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