#please I wish to give my chao a little bobble hat

[woodsie]

genuinely beyond mortal comprehension the money I’d pay for a new chao garden where they expand upon the genetics system and let you give them clothes or decorate the garden with furniture

[twittytelly]

The Library

Chris Evans x Reader

Disney Drabbles Masterlist

Inspired by

Summary: Chris wants to make your first Christmas living together as special as possible by making a childhood dream come true. All the fluff.

Warnings: The slightest bit of swearing and sexual references.

The first time Chris took you back to his home, you were blown away by how nice it was. Tucked away in a quiet Boston suburb, far from the camera flashes you could see why he preferred to be here over the glare of Los Angles. Inside was clean, crisp and cosy, with the biggest back garden you had ever seen. Even in the dark, you spied a den and a climbing frame. Primarily installed for Chris' niece and nephews, you couldn't help but be tempted to have a go yourself. However, all thoughts of playtime and interior design went out the window when you felt a pair of strong hands squeeze at your waist and a beard brush against your neck. Turning to look into his ocean blue eyes, you couldn't help but surrender yourself to him as he leaned in to press his lips against yours...

-

A couple of years later, when Chris asked you to move in with him it was a no-brainer. So much so you gave your answer by simply jumping into his arms and kissing him. While there were creases that needed ironing out, the pair of you soon fell into your new routines and homes were found for your belongings. As Chris was taking an extended break from work after back-to-back filming and press, he decided that it was time he started taking carpentry classes like he always said he would and you relished the time to yourself to work on your own personal projects.  

However, when the oppressive heat of summer gave way to a cool, freeing autumn breeze Chris started acting strangely. He had asked you to stay out of the small spare bedroom to the right of the master suite and when you enquired why, he simply stated that it was a surprise, raising his eyebrow the way he would when he was up to something.

When Chris had first made his request, you thought it would be for a day or two. But the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months. You still had no idea what Chris was up to, but the house regularly echoed with the sounds of sawing, drilling and hammering, and it wasn't even the kind you enjoyed! Once or twice, you gave into your inquisitive nature and tried to steal a glance only to find that Chris had installed a lock on the door. Bastard. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it was fuelling your frustration.

As time came around to swap the pumpkins for fairy lights, more oddities started occurring. You started misplacing your books, only to find them the next day in the exact same place where you left them. You could have sworn that some of your other belongings had gone missing too but when you had tried enlisting Chris' help... well he was as useful as a chocolate teapot!

-

You were not planning on spending your first Christmas with Chris' family contemplating murder, but here you were stuck in snowy Boston traffic on Christmas Eve cursing yourself for not being able to resist Chris and his puppy-dog eyes. He had practically begged you this morning when he confessed that he had forgotten to buy the book of fairytales he had promised to get for his niece, but was too busy to get it himself.

“Please Y/N,” he pleaded. “I promise to make it worth your while.”

You began quietly reciting the long list of ways he was going to make it worth your as you finally found a parking space. Fortunately, the first book shop you came across had the exact copy of the book Chris wanted. Relishing in your victory, you decided to tolerate the shoppers who were as idiotic as Christopher and have a quick browse. A good bookshop was your Achilles' heel after all, and there were one or two books that you needed to buy sooner or later.

-

Chris was waiting for you at the front door when you pulled up on the driveway with a look on his face that aroused suspicion. Before you could think about it too much the air was filled with an excited bark and you felt two paws on your hip. Bending down to greet Dodger you felt any remaining annoyance dissipate. You had barely crossed the threshold before Chris had swept you down the hallway towards your shared bedroom.

“Chris I know you said that you were going to make it up to me, but you could at least give me the chance to put my bags down!”

Chris chuckled shaking his head. “Keep it in your pants Y/N! There won't be any of those shenanigans until later.”

You then realised that you were being led towards the forbidden room. A nervous excitement rushed through you, and you quickly forgotten that you were still in your coat and bobble hat. Were you finally going to be allowed in? Chris suddenly stopped outside the door and you turned to him.

“I want to give you your Christmas present now.” He started sheepishly. “But it's too big to fit under the tree. I need you to trust me and close your eyes.”

Turning back around, you compiled with Chris' request; but apparently you were not to be trusted as you felt Chris' warm, large hand cover your eyes. As he leaned to open the door you felt his hard chest press against your back, as both of you felt Dodger brush past. Taking your free hand in his he guided you inside. Your face, back and hand felt cooler as Chris removed himself from you. But then you sensed his lips millimetres away from your ear.

“Open.”

As you opened your eyes, you couldn't help the gasp that left your lips. Your nostrils were flooded with the scents of fir trees, your favourite festive candle and fresh paint. Looking around the white, bright room you could barely believe what you were seeing.

The walls were lined with bookcases, mostly filled with your books; but with plenty of space for you to add to your collection. To the side sat a desk, where sat your laptop, a small potted Christmas tree and your most treasured trinkets, including your favourite framed photo of you and Chris at the L.A. house just before you left for the Oscars: the blue velvet of his jacket making his eyes pop and the golden yellow of your outfit making your skin glow.

You. Were. Speechless. You had mentioned on an early date that when you were little you wished you had a house that was big enough to have a library in it, but you didn't expect Chris to remember, least of all actually give you one.

“Chris this is incredible, I...” You breathed, trying to find the right words, eyes welling up. “Thank you so much!”

You hadn't realised you were still holding onto your bags until Chris had pried them from your grip. Placing the bags on the desk, he pulled you into a tight bear hug as you allowed the tears to fall. Dragging yourself from the embrace, you brought yourself back towards him and captured his lips in yours. Hoping to convey your gratefulness that could not be described with words. Soon enough you had to tear away from each other in order to breathe. You stole another glance around the room, as if it was about to disappear.

“Did you make all this furniture in your carpentry class?” You asked, still amazed by what was around you. Chris' body started shaking as he tried to suppress his laughter.

“No this was all done by some Swedish guy. But I did make that” he said as he gestured towards the window.

Another gasp left your lips as you saw what you were too overwhelmed to see before. It was the pièce de résistance. On either side of the window stood two bookcases that were connected by a window seat where Dodger was currently lounging. There was more shelving underneath the seat, where Chris had placed your original Harry Potter collection as well as the books that you never got tired of rereading. On the side you saw your Christmas candle burning and you noted that it would be a perfect spot for a mug of tea. You looked out of the window onto the garden. New snowflakes were falling from the sky, blanketing the garden. You imagined looking out to see Chris playing fetch with Dodger, his niece and nephews playing on the play equipment, your future children running about and causing chaos.

“Oh, Chris this is perfect” you started.

“I'm sensing a 'but'.” Chris cautiously interrupted.

“But..” you said making your way back to the desk and fishing through the bags. “Where's the little guy gonna sleep?”

Confusion swept across Chris' face as he looked towards Dodger and back to you. “What do you mean?”

You couldn't hide the smirk that ran across your face as you walked towards him, book in hand. Wordlessly you placed the book into his grasp. You saw his eyes look down at the book and back to you, before doing a double take. You watched his eyes widen as he read the words.

What to Expect When You're Expecting

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @nerdyfangirl57!

Merry Christmas and A Happy New Year to you sweetheart, from your Secret Santa!  So excited to see what you think of your gift and I really hope that, at the very least, it makes you smile over the holidays!  Love & Hugs! XXXXXX

Read on AO3

*****

Santa's Little Helper    

Turning the collars up on his purple military coat, Magnus was glad of the full-length barrier it would provide against the crisp night air outside, only wishing he’d brought his gloves too as he prepared to leave the warmth of the cinema foyer with his two small companions. Squatting down to tie Madzie’s scarf and adjust Max’s bobble hat, Magnus couldn’t resist dropping a kiss on their dimpled cheeks as he asked if they’d enjoyed the film.

Madzie nodded vigorously. ‘I want to eat marmalade sandwiches like just Paddington. Can we, Magnus? Please?’’

Max tugged on his arm in agreement, his eagerness pitching his young voice even higher than usual. ‘Yes! Yes! Me too, Papa!’

With a token huff, he nodded, ‘OK!’ Four surprisingly strong arms wrapped themselves around his legs in gratitude and Magnus hugged them back before grabbing their hands with a cheery, ‘Let’s go!’

Stepping out with a collective gasp into the early evening chill, the happy trio entertained themselves with festive songs as they made their way to the nearby Christmas fair, arms swinging in time to each tune. They were going to visit Madzie’s adopted mum, Catarina, who was manning the fundraising stall for the hospital where she worked, before heading home to the loft for an evening of cartoons and chaos.

Deciding to soothe their vocal chords with some hot chocolate as they went, Magnus stopped at the coffee shop on the corner, grabbing an extra one for his hard working friend before steering the children towards the busy plaza where throngs of busy shoppers were congregating in the hope of finding the perfect gifts. Magnus couldn’t help but feel the stirrings of excitement at the festive scene before him as they paused for a moment to appreciate it.

The lamp-lit square had been transformed into something akin to a Christmas card picture with only the snow missing from it. At the far end, a bandstand housed members of the local music college whose brass instruments were playing hymns and carols, as well as some crowd-pleasers for the hardy souls huddled together on the temporary seats that were dotted around, with vocal harmonies provided by schoolchildren who were being led by an enthusiastic teacher. On the remaining three sides of the large cobbled space stood rows of wooden cabins, each assigned to a local charitable cause, their gabled roofs adorned with holly and poinsettia, multicoloured lights framing the stable-door shutters thrown open in welcome so that potential buyers could see the wide variety of wares on offer. The scent of pine permeated the joyful atmosphere and mixed with the delicious smells of sweet and savoury treats, beckoning them to follow their noses to where all things cinnamon and spice were waiting. Taking pride of place at the centre of all this was a popular Santa’s Grotto that made the children squeal with delight as they bounced on their toes, begging to join the queue.

‘Papa, pleeeeeeeease!’ Max implored, big blue eyes the size of saucers melting Magnus’ heart like they always did, while Madzie’s impossibly wide smile had the same effect on his knees. How could any Papa or godfather resist?

‘Fine,’ he caved, as their combined shrieks split the air, ‘but first we have to deliver this fortifying brew to your poor mother before her joints seize up from being exposed to this wintry weather for the last few hours.’ Their disappointment was quickly replaced by grudging nods as they continued in haste.

With an excitable yelp, Madzie pointed to the middle stall directly opposite the band, and conveniently facing the grotto would you believe, sporting the hospital’s banner and began tugging him closer by his coat.

‘Patience, Sweetpea,’ he cautioned affectionately, knowing it would fall on deaf ears, instead concentrating on ensuring the hot beverage reached its intended recipient in one piece. Approaching the cozy looking shelter, well stocked with all manner of knitted goods, from Christmas stockings and scarves to tree decorations and cushion covers, Magnus chuckled to himself at how Cat’s hobby had certainly been put to good use. ‘For you, my dearest Catarina,’ he greeted her gallantly, receiving a blissful look of thanks before stepping back, allowing the youngsters to say hello and give her a detailed recount of the film they’d just seen.

Drinking his own chocolate as he swept a cursory gaze over the stalls on either side, Magnus paused mid-sip as his eyes landed on the incredibly hot vendor to the right of Cat, who was sitting down, engrossed in a heavy-duty cookery book, giving him the opportunity to take him all in. His grin was feral as he swallowed.

Wrapped up against the cool breeze in a black high-collared peacoat and fingerless gloves, his head was covered by a green and red striped hat any elf would be proud, the bell at its end actually jingling when he turned the pages and the words ‘Santa’s Little Helper’ emblazoned in red flashing lights across it. Oh, I do hope that’s not literal, Magnus thought, as he bit down on a giggle. Glancing briefly at his companions to check they were still oblivious to his diverted attention, he proceeded with his appraisal. The stranger’s eye colour couldn’t be determined beneath the long thick lashes that fanned his adorably rosy cheeks but he couldn’t wait to find out. They would be amazing, Magnus just knew it. The short, no-doubt-silky strands of black hair that could be seen poking out from under the funny headgear framed his features perfectly and his hands…. oh, those hands with the long, lean, capable fingers could probably consign him to a pleasurable death or deliver him unto heaven, he wouldn’t mind which. Could he get any better? Magnus wondered.

Then Santa’s Little Helper looked up.

And WOW! He’d been so right.

Luminous hazel eyes were unblinking as they slowly subjected Magnus to an equally intense eye-balling. Unconsciously squaring his shoulders, he returned the stare, confident he was worth looking at. A lopsided smile that fairly robbed him of breath was his reward.

Then Santa’s Little Helper spoke.

‘Can I tempt you with anything?’ came the deep sultry voice, leaving Magnus with an overwhelming urge to vault over the display of cookies and doughnuts and let his body answer in the affirmative.

But he didn’t, of course. Instead, he blurted, ‘That rather depends on what ‘anything’ is…’

Shit. Smooth, Bane. Real smooth.

With a rueful roll of his eyes, Magnus held up his hand in apology as he stepped nearer to make sure the children didn’t overhear. And maybe to get a closer look.

Trying, and failing, to ignore the blush that further coloured ‘Pretty Boy’s’ kissable cheeks, Magnus grinned, ‘Please excuse me, that was rude.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ said the beautiful lips that had somehow pulled his focus, ‘You didn’t say no, right?’ And he winked!

Magnus couldn’t conceal his surprise. Well, well. This was clearly no angel he was talking to. Glossy lips puckered of their own accord. ‘I wouldn’t dream of saying no to you….?’

‘Alec,’ The Mouth replied, his toothy grin no less devastating than his lips.

‘I’m Magnus,’ he declared, extending a bejewelled hand which Alec took readily, and for much longer than was strictly necessary but he wasn’t complaining. Quite the contrary. He never wanted to let go. How odd.

Lost in a bubble (or should that be bauble?) of mutual admiration, they didn’t notice the impatient five year old who was desperate for their attention at first, only ‘coming to’ when Max stamped on Magnus’ foot, hard.

‘Ow!’ Reluctantly breaking contact, the only real pain Magnus felt was out of concern for the damage done to his Italian leather boots. ‘What was that for, blueberry?’ he demanded without a trace of heat, as he leant down to lift his unrepentant son onto his hip.

‘We want to know when we’re going home, Papa,’ Max asked, small palms playfully squishing his father’s cheeks, which only added to the embarrassment of having been caught in a ‘moment’ with a complete stranger. He gently lowered the hands.

‘Soon, Max. I was just wondering what we could be tempted to buy from Santa’s....’ Both Bane men turned in unison as Alec stood up off the stool, his hat nearly touching the roof. ‘...Not-So-Little Helper,’ Magnus finished breathily.

He did NOT gulp when Alec chuckled.

‘Maybe you could help Papa decide, Max?’ The Mouth wondered, eyes darting quickly to Magnus, as if aware how hearing him saying those names had triggered an almost primal reaction in his gut, which was ludicrous, but nonetheless true.

Max nodded solemnly, his restless hands, now fiddling with the epaulettes on Magnus’ coat, the only indication that he was a little nervous.

Alec folded his arms and leaned down on the counter to make himself appear less intimidating. ‘I made all these goodies to sell for my son’s school,’ there was that eye dart again, ‘and I kinda need your advice on what looks good enough to eat.’

Hell, Magnus thought as he wet his suddenly dry lips, this man wasn’t just less-than-angelic, he was the devil incarnate, teasing him like this. He let his heavy lidded eyes communicate his thoughts to Satan.

‘OK!’ his son agreed, eyes roving over the mouth-watering display of cakes and confectionaries that were decorated in sprinkles and icing of every description. It was lucky for him that he couldn’t see the way Papa���s eyes were devouring the man in front of him.

Or how Magnus was being mentally undressed by said man.

‘What goes with marmalade sandwiches?’ his innocent boy asked, chewing on his chubby lip in much the same way his father was, though for very different reasons.

Understanding dawned in those glorious hazel eyes. ‘Ah, someone’s seen Paddington, right?’ Max beamed his beautiful smile. ‘My boy, Rafe, isn’t much older than you and he loved that film too. We both did.’

‘It was funny!’ Max giggled, at ease now he’d found a fellow friend of his favourite bear.

‘It sure was,’ Alec agreed, as he tapped a finger to his chin in contemplation while pretending to think what choice would be the best to compliment the unusual sandwich. ‘How about the Gingerbread Man?’

‘Too crunchy.’

‘The Christmas Tree cupcakes?’

‘Too sweet.’

Alec glanced up through his lashes at Magnus, mirroring his amused grin. ‘Is your Papa as fussy as you, Max?’

Papa forgot to breathe, dreading what his son would say.

‘No, he just loves pretty things.’ Magnus exhaled. ‘Like you.’ Too soon.

Frozen in mortification, Magnus wished for the cobbles beneath his feet to swallow him whole…...but not before a last quick look at the handsome man who was….wait, was he laughing?

The colour of cranberry he may be, but the guy was definitely laughing, gaze averted as he bagged the silver stars made out of marzipan that Max had apparently finally settled on. Quickly depositing his mischievous kid on terra firma, Magnus handed over the money, struggling, and ultimately failing, to keep a straight face..

‘Is that true?’ Alec queried, amusement still evident in the smile he flashed his way.

Magnus composed himself long enough to return his gaze. ‘Yes, on both counts,’  he confirmed, for some reason unwilling to waste time with being coy.

Alec paused in the act of handing over Magnus’ change, his wide bashful smile crinkling those magnificent eyes, as Magnus gestured for him to keep the money.

Three separate coughs as subtle as sledgehammers broke the spell. A guilty glance toward the far too observant audience on his left, prompted Magnus to begin taking his leave. Well that, and the shit-eating grin on Cat’s face that told him he was in for a roasting later!

‘It was lovely to meet you, Alexander,’ he began, voice unusually raspy for some reason. ‘I wish you all the best with your fundraising efforts for Rafe’ school.’ He took a step back. ‘I’m sure he’s very proud of you.’

Although Alec gave a dubious shake of his head, his gratitude for the compliment shone through his smile, which Magnus couldn’t help but return.

Resolutely turning to take the hands of Max and Madzie, he gave Cat a pointed look that warned her not to say a word and with a saccharine sweet, ‘See you later, my dear,’ Magnus exited the festive square, not at all grappling with the idea of flinging himself at Alec’s feet, demanding he ask him out.

Walking briskly in the direction of the taxi rank, Magnus was busy trying to commit Alec’s gorgeous face to memory when Madzie reminded him that they’d forgotten to visit Santa’s Grotto. A quick look at his non-existent watch disguised an impish grin as he spun around, pulse skipping.

‘You know what, my darlings?’ he fairly sang, barely resisting the urge to break into a run as they began retracing their steps back to the Fair, ‘Christmas is but once a year and we ALL deserve the chance to get what we wish for! Am I right?’

The delighted squeals, he took for agreement.