#since I got them removed on Christmas Eve

[salemssimblr]

I got my fallopian tubes removed today! The surgery was fast and easy AND THEY’RE LETTING ME KEEP THEM!

& my husband and mom got me this cutie from the gift shop.

We named him Jimmy Fallopian (get it lmfao)

[josephquinnswhore]

Christmas Eve - joel miller x female reader

summary: Christmas Eve with your husband.

word count: 2k

content warning: fluff..slight insinuations to sex, girl dad joel, heavily pregnant reader, anxiety surrounding pregnancy, birth etc. Pre established marriage, joel is in his early 30’s. no outbreak. I think that’s it?

a/n: it’s chrissy eve in Australia… 10:15pm as I’m posting this. Merry Christmas to all my moots / fans of Joel / Pedro / whoever reads this. Love you all x

Lights draped around the window frames and along the porch were strung up, emitting a golden glow along the cleared pathway to the front door. Tinsel is tightly wrapped around the wooden frame of the steps to your front house, complete with a beautiful wreath on your front door.

Through the curtains, you could make out Joel’s figure up on the step ladder, hanging more lights in the living room.

As you step foot into your home, the harsh wind follows you as you tap the snow off your boots on the doormat, a freezing breeze curls up your neck, making you shudder.

But as the front door closes behind you, all you feel is warmth. The ugly Christmas sweater you wore has poorly stitched reindeers, snowflakes and the ugliest shade of green you’d ever seen. Alas, You’re shocked to see Joel wearing his matching sweater as you step through the threshold of the living room.

Tinsel hangs along the hallways, the smell of the pine tree fills your lungs with warmth. Never did you think it could be possible to crave a smell—until now. The fresh scent of pine tree that Joel had cut down, he and Tommy had lugged it into your living room to use as a Christmas tree upon your insistence.

He turns to face you, raising an eyebrow at your messy hair and few intact snowflakes on your sweater. In hand, you’re clutching a sacred tin of powdered hot chocolate.

His ugly Christmas sweater is the same as yours, but red. His dark hair is littered with greys, feral curls untamed and his face framed with a pair of thick specs. The rainbow lights he’s hanging up with a hammer and nail reflect in them for a moment, before he removes them. His sweet, warm brown eyes meet your own.

“House looks good baby,” you call softly, admiring how beautiful the decorations looked with his determination, not allowing you to do anything more than decorate the tree, and wrap the gifts, since it was your favourite part about Christmas, excluding the gingerbread baking.

He climbs down the ladder, hooking his glasses through the neckline of his sweater, setting the hammer and nails onto the flat surface at the top of the step ladder.

“Without your vision this never would have come to life. Sarah’s going to love it.” He preens, stepping toward you. “How was it out there?” With an all recognisable voice of concern, you smile.

It was beginning to snow outside, and Joel was anxious the entire time you’d been gone.

“Chaotic, shopping on Christmas Eve isn’t for the weak. I had to practically fight an old lady to get this tin of hot chocolate you know?”

His soft laugh breaks the tension of his anxiety, just glad to have you back. His arms snake around you, resting on your hips. “Sounds like you needed your man to come with you hm? I’ve got no problems protecting my girl from the oldies.”

“I can handle them, plus.. I’m glad you stayed. Sarah’s going to be so happy when she sees all of this. Did you remember to do Santa’s footprints with flour?”

Tsk. “So much distrust baby, course I remembered, I ain’t the one with baby brain y’know?”.

You roll your eyes at him, shoving his chest lightly. “And who’s fault is that, hm?”

Joel chuckled as you rolled your eyes, knowing how much you secretly loved his teasing. He followed your gaze to the lights before smiling, proud of his work.

"I’ll take half the blame, honey," he said,

“If you don’t recall, I’ll recite the way you begged me to get you pregnant—“

With your cheeks warming you interrupt. “Alright.. alright. I remember.”

His thumb leaves your waist, curling into your cheek to caress you softly with adoration. "I’m glad you convinced me, baby. You look so beautiful, you’re glowing.”

Your cheeks feel warm at his praise. The warmth of the fire crackling inside of the living room begin to ease the ache in your joints, particularly your knees and ankles.

“I look and feel like a whale.” It had been hard on you, anyone could see, with your stomach so round and swollen, the Christmas sweater struggled to stretch over your stomach to cover it entirely.

Joel shook his head, slipping his warm hands underneath your sweater to caress your aching stomach in a soothing notion.

"No," he protested softly. "You look like my beautiful, pregnant wife who is about to bring a little bundle of joy into the world. Half of me, and half of you.”

With a soft hum, you find yourself smiling. The thought warmed your heart, a small bundle of love, made of you and him. “Flattery will get you everywhere with me, Joel Miller.”

"Hm?" Joel hums in return, planting a kiss on your cheek, his nose nudging your own. "That's good to know, I might have to use that to my advantage."

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine. "Maybe... it'll get me everything I want."

With a baited breath, you breathe out a shaky response. “And what is it that you want?”

"Hmm..." Joel pretended to ponder about it for a moment, his hands sliding down to rest on your hips again, fingers curling into the curved surface.

"Since you asked," he murmured, his voice low and enticing. "All I really want for Christmas is to spend it with you. But if you're looking for a more tangible gift, I guess I could think of a thing or two."

With a roll of your eyes, you snag a candy cane off of the tree beside you, and uncurl the plastic and stick the hooked peppermint lolly into your mouth, sucking the flavour off with a pop.

“Hot chocolate first.” You insist, kissing his cheek, leaving sticky residue on his warm skin. “I didn’t drive through a snowstorm and fight an old lady for nothing.”

You shake the tin of chocolate powder as if to remind him, garnering his attention.

Joel chuckled wipes the sticky candy cane residue off his cheek. “You got it mumma. Hot chocolate first, then I'll tell you what I really want for Christmas."

Joel gestured towards the couch by the fireplace with one hand and an expectant gaze.

"Go take a seat and relax. I'll make the hot chocolate, and then you can tell me about that beautiful baby of ours and how you’re feeling."

He swats your ass softly, amusement clear in his voice.

“Thanks baby. For everything. My feet are killing me.” Minutes later you graciously accept the warm mug of hot chocolate, the white mini marshmallows are soft and starting to melt.

"Anything for you baby.” You know he means it too.

He took a seat on the couch beside you, the leather sinking under his weight. "How's everything been today? Any contractions?"

You shake your head with a small mouthful of the gooey, warm, sweet drink. “No, nothing yet. I feel like she’s never going to come at this rate..”

A soft hum vibrates within your chest as he encourages you to shift towards him, and he props your feet up onto his lap to remove your shoes and socks, promptly massaging your swollen ankles.

“Do you think she’ll come before the new year?”

Joel continued massaging your ankles, looking down at your huge baby bump as you rubbed it tentatively, he can sense some anxiety coming from you as a first time expectant mother.

Sure, you’d practically raised Sarah since she was twelve months, but this was different. A newborn, the birth.. that was all new to you.

"Hard to tell, baby," he said with a thoughtful expression, not wanting to cause you any stress. "But judging by how big you are, I wouldn't be surprised if she decided to make her debut soon."

He looked up at you, his gaze meeting yours as he decided to pry further, coaxing the truth from you. "You feeling ready for the big day yet?"

“I’m terrified,” you admit in a gentle whisper between you, a sudden sense of vulnerability curates between the two of you. It makes it all the more real.

Joel's expression softened as you admitted your fears, his fingers pausing in massaging your ankles. Watching as you set your now empty mug down onto the coffee table, having satiated your sweet tooth.. for now.

"Hey, I get it," he reassures quietly, his thumb gently rubbing circles on your foot in a comforting gesture this time, rather than a massage. "Giving birth is a big deal, baby. But you're gonna be incredible. You're strong, you're capable, and I'll be right there with you every step of the way. I promise.”

Joel smiled warmly, squeezing your shoulder gently as you slowly processed his words of encouragement, that no matter what happened through the birth, you’d soon have a family of four. “You’re right.. it’s all going to be okay.”

"You're damn right it's going to be okay," he said with conviction. "Because we've got each other, Sarah, and our precious little girl.. Sadie, right?”

He moved his hand from your feet, leaning closer to place his hands on your stomach, feeling his daughter actively kick at his affectionate touch. Seeing you nod in confirmation. “Yeah.. Sadie.”

"Just think, in a few days, you'll be holding our baby in your arms."

The thought is overwhelming, a small baby in your arms, Sarah, who had turned six earlier in the year. She was stoked to be a big sister, asking every day when the baby was coming. Constantly cradling your heavy stomach with her small hands, singing as she prompts the baby to kick.

The image of innocence, a young child that still believes in Santa, which will hopefully carry into the next few years of your lives.

The thought makes you smile, wrapping dozens of presents for everyone and sticking them under the tree for all of you, your family of four plus Tommy and Maria who annually joined you for Christmas celebrations.

Joel glances around the living room, taking in the sights of the lights and the decorations that adorned the house. The tree stood in a corner, covered in colorful, homemade decorations from Sarah, the topper at the top of the tree shaped like a snowflake coloured in with a half dozen colours being Joel's favorite of them all.

"You know," he said softly, his hand still resting on your tummy. "This is going to be our last Christmas as a a family of three..."

The thought makes your heart ache with guilt or perhaps anxiety, biting into your lower lip. “It’s all a bit much isn’t it?”

"Yeah, it is," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. He was getting older now, creeping into his early thirties. To start over again, he felt a little out of practice.

"It's a lot to take in, baby, I know. But that doesn't mean it's a bad thing. We can do this together, Tommy and Maria will help.. we aren’t doin’ this alone. Sarah will adore our little girl. And I know you’re goin’ to be an incredible mother.”

Ever the romantic.

With a wry smile and your heart swelling inside of your chest, you offer him what he had indignantly prompted for earlier in the evening. “Want to try and get this baby out?”

Your hand trails through his hair with a suggestive smile. Joel raised an eyebrow at your suggestion, a sly grin spreading across his face.

"Hmm... Now that's a proposition I can get on board with, baby."

[twooftheluckyones]

How The One Who Waits Stole Christmas

Everyone up above sure liked Christmas a lot… But Narinder, Who was chained down below, Did NOT! Narinder hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season! Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason. It could be his third eye wasn't set in just right. It could be, perhaps, that his chains were too tight. But I think that the most likely reason of all, May have been that his heart was dead, shriveled and small. Whatever the reason, His heart or his chains, He stood there on Christmas Eve, feeling disdain, Staring through the red crown, hissing whispered insults At the warm burning bonfires above in his cult. He knew every beast in Old Faith lands above, Was busy now, spreading their kindness and love, "And they're slacking on duties!" he snarled with a sneer, "Tomorrow is Christmas! It's practically here!" Then he growled, with his bone fingers nervously drumming, "I MUST find some way to stop Christmas from coming!" For Tomorrow, he knew, all mortal girls and boys, Would wake bright and early. They'd rush for their toys! And then! Oh, the noise! Oh, the Noise! Noise! Noise! Noise! That's one thing he hated! The NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! Then the cult, young and old, would sit down to a feast. And they'd feast! And they'd feast! And they'd FEAST! FEAST! FEAST! FEAST! They would feast on pumpkin stew, and follower flesh. Which was something Narinder couldn't stand, even fresh! And THEN They'd do something He liked least of all! Every whelp in the compound, the tall and the small, Would stand close together, with rhythmic drums beating. They'd stand hand-in-hand. And the Lamb would start bleating!They'd bleat! And they'd bleat! And they'd BLEAT! BLEAT! BLEAT! BLEAT! And the more Nari thought of those ear piercing bleats, The more that he thought, "This should be no feat" "Why, for three centuries I've put up with it now!" "This ritual can be extinguished, But HOW?" Then he got an idea! An awful idea! NARINDER GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA! "I know just what to do!" The cat laughed in his throat. And he made a quick Santy Claus hat and a coat. And he chuckled, and clucked, "What a great godly trick!" "With this coat and this hat, they’ll look just like Saint Nick!" "All I need is my vessel." The god looked around. But, since they had not died, they were not to be found. Did that stop Narinder? No! The cat simply said, "If they won’t come to me, I will grab them instead!" So he reached through a portal with his boney black hand, And pulled the Lamb out, just like he had planned.

In a flash they were dressed in their new Santa Fleece And fed their new doctrine against Christmas peace Then Narinder said, "GET OUT!" And he threw them right back, To the land of the living, with the plan of attack. Remove all the toys, the trees and the leisure So their god could watch over with quiet and pleasure Pleasing him was a thing that they so deeply treasured "This is stop number one," through the red crown he hissed, Pointing toward the small hut of a brand new cultist They walked in the hovel with reckless abandon Soon, there was no decor left up or left standin The red crown grew fat as they tossed presents in It was not a big fan, as it much preferred sin Lamb stuck to their task, as their master commands For, perhaps if they do this, they can maybe hold hands They gathered up things from shelter to shelter Heart burning with passion like a hot iron smelter Statues! Cookies! Holly and bells! Every last item made the greedy crown swell. By the look of things, Narinder could tell, The god’s plan was going incredibly well Lamb looted their food stores, tossing all they amassed For the cat god had called for a cult-wide week fast In the last little tent and the edge of the clearing While completing their task, the Lamb caught someone peering The follower yawned and their leader just knew It’s snoring poet, Thorjol, that liked to eat poo "Leader, I awoke when I heard something scoot May I ask why you’re wearing a Santa Claus suit?" Lamb had been caught, but patted his head Softly said, “BAAA,” then stabbed him til dead. They had already planned to get rid of this clown But the sacrifice ritual had been on cool down It was quarter past dawn… All the beasts, still a-bed, All the beasts, still asnooze, and the Lamb bowed their head Their crusade on Christmas went smooth as could be Now to dump all that garbage right into the sea Breaking a sweat, the wooled one rolled the crown All bloated and heavy, leaving a trench in the ground They soon reached the beach, down the sand like a comet When the crown hit the water, it started to vomit Little by little, it shrunk down to size With a noticeable watering under its eye Every last present sunk down to the depths But the Lamb beamed quite widely, no single tear wept They had done a good job, and they had just a hunch That their big hunky cat god was just pleased as punch It felt like that little lamb could do no wrong And they couldn’t help but break out into song They bleated and baa’d and bleated some more To an old sheepy folk song right there on the shore So loud and so proud, why it was such a show That it traveled down to the One Chained Below He gritted his teeth and plugged up his ears This whole thing confirmed his greatest of fears Christmas can be destroyed and reduced down to scrap But that goddamn Lamb will NOT shut their yap

[ravenromanova]

First christmas

Parings: Bucky x Female reader

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT! Breeding kink, Daddy kink, SLight metal finger kink, Bucky wanting to get the reader pregnant, Soft Bucky. DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDER 18++!!!

Kinkmas masterlist - Main masterlist - Send me requests!!!

~ “Babygirl where are we going?” Bucky asked as you covered his eyes and walked him downstairs into the living room of the compound giggling like a child.

“You’ll see in a second just be patient” You giggled and playfully smacked his head earning an ‘ow’ from the super solider. “Okay now open” You quickly removed your hands and stood in front of him. You stood in front of him and dramatically flailed your arms to bring attention to what you set up.

He opened his eyes and scanned with living room with an unreadable expression. “What’s all this?” Bucky questioned as he took in the undecorated christmas tree, all of the ornaments and decorations scattered around the floor. He was a little confused as to why it looked like santa threw up in the living room but intrigued nonetheless.

“It’s our first christmas together so i thought we could decorate! It’s normally Nat’s thing but i convinced her to let us do it this year” The smile that adorned your face nearly brought him to his knees. “And it’s also your first christmas since you got deprogrammed so it’s even more special.” You continued as you grabbed his hand and gave him some decorations. He smiled and felt his face heat up and your words.

“You’re adorable. And i love it” He chided with an equally as big smile on his face. Buckys heart swelled seeing how excited you were to decorate with him. He wasn’t one for holidays especially when he was in Hydra for obvious reasons. But right there in that moment with you he felt like a little boy again waiting for santa on christmas eve.

The two of you quickly fell into a nice rhythm as you decorated while listening to older christmas music. Buckys eyebrows shot up in curiosity as he saw you hold a pink unicorn ornament and put it on the tree.

“When did you get that?” He asked coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist as you hung it on the tree. He was quick to notice how it resembled the stuffed unicorn he won for you on your first date to coney island.

“I got it a few months ago. Me and Nat were out shopping and i saw it in one of the small little christmas shops and bought it immediately” You smiled looking at the unicorn on the tree. Bucky smiled and then kissed you softly before he helped you finish the decorating.

About an hour went by before the you two were finished with the tree and the decorations for the living room. So after all the hardwork you two did you decided to make some hot chocolate for you and him. You smiled and danced along to the music as you made them and then sat back down on the couch and handed it to him.

“Thank you doll” Bucky smiled when you handed him the warm drink and sat next to him. “I had fun decorating with you” His confession made your heart swell and another smile cross your face.

“Good im glad” You smiled up at him and gave him a soft kiss on his cheek causing him to blush. “Maybe i can convince Nat to let us decorate more often” You said seriously and then looked at each other and started laughing knowing damn well she wouldn’t.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you drank your hot chocolate and laid on the couch together peacefully. That was until Bucky suddenly got up and held out his hand for you to take. Your brows furrowed in confusion at your boyfriend’s actions making him smile.

“Dance with me” He said in a husky tone as he waited for you to take his hand. “I wanna dance with you under all the lights” His words almost made you cry as you nodded and took his hand. He was quick to pull you into his body and hold you close as the two of you danced.

The two of you danced peacefully to “White christmas” by Irving Berlin with big smiles on both of your faces. Buckys heart warmed at the moment. His best girl, his favorite holiday and his favorite christmas song. Honestly how could this get any better he thought. But soon the moment got even better when you tapped his cheek to get his attention. When he looked down at you and you had your finger pointed to the ceiling, slowly he looked up and smiled at the mistletoe over your heads.

“Is there something you want babydoll?” Bucky asked cheekily with a smug smile on his face.

“You know exactly what i want Barnes” The words were just as mischievous as the smile on your face. And within seconds you grabbed his face and pulled him into a heated kiss. Bucky was quick to place his hands on your hips and bring you in closer to him.

“I need you baby” You said barely above a whisper with a slight pout on your face. He then moved his metal hand from your hip to your cheek and slowly caressed it.

“Then you have me babygirl” His voice was smooth and soft as he spoke which made you weak in the knees. He slowly guided you over to the couch and sat down before he had you sit on his lap.

“Such a pretty doll” He praised running his hands up and down your back. The way he looked at you and spoke to you made you a puddle in his lap.

Bucky was quick to bring you in for another kiss but this time it was much softer and sweeter than the one before. It was almost as if he was scared of breaking you which again almost made you a puddle.

“You don’t have to be so gentle” You were the first one to break the kiss since air was needed.

“Mm but i do. You’re just a little doll. Precious even. I need to be gentle and take my time with you” His words caused a shiver to run down your spine.

“Fuck take me to your room” Bucky was quick to oblige and picked you up before he led you two to his room.

Once he made it to his room he kicked the door open before gently placing you on his bad and then shut the door. He took a second to admire you laying on his bed. Sure the two of you have had sex before but for some reason this time felt different. While he loves fucking you hard and making you scream he also loves taking his time with his precious girl.

“I need you baby” You beg sitting up on your knees and beckoning him over to you. He quickly walked over to you from the door and grasped your chin in his metal hand lightly.

“You have me babydoll” He cooed in your ear as he began to kiss your neck making you shiver. You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him on top of you causing you to lay against his pillows.

Bucky nipped and sucked dark marks onto your neck making sure to mark you as his. “Fuck Jamie please” You begged the solider grabbing the hem of his shirt attempting to take it off.

“Patience babydoll patience. I wanna make my girl feel good. I haven’t tasted you in a while baby” Bucky replied gently rubbing his hands up and down your exposed thighs. You released a pathetic whimper at his words that made him smile.

And before you could even process what what happening Bucky tore your clothes off and left them in a pile on the floor. You went to protest him ripping off your bra and underwear but it was already too late for that. Bucky took a moment to appreciate how beautiful you looked laying under him. It doesn’t matter how many times he sees you like it. Every time makes his heart swell and his cock stir in his jeans.

“Such a pretty doll” He praised running his hands over your soft and warm skin. You sucked in a breath when you felt his metal hand tweak one of your nipples and pull slightly.

“Oh fuck” The words spilled passed your lips in the form of a sinful moan. “Please daddy i need you so bad” You continued to beg and finally got his shirt off.

“Okay okay” He chuckles and makes his way in between your thighs. Bucky takes a second to admire how wet you are for him, all spread out and glistening with your own juices. “My pretty baby” He praised again before licking your clit to tease you.

“Oh J-Jamie” You moaned back arching off the bed as Bucky dived into your pussy. He spread your lips with his metal fingers and wrapped his lops around your little bundle of nerves. The way he sucked on you was making your mind go fuzzy and you r orgasm build.

On the flip side Bucky was trying to control his urge to dry hump the mattress as he ate you out. He was so lost in the way you tasted and the you were moaning for him. Bucky ate you out like a man starved alternating between licking and sucking your clit which in turn was leaving you a babbling mess.

“I-I’m gonna cum” You practically scream out clawing at his back as you feel your orgasm wash over you. The feeling was so intense you didn’t even realize that he put two of his flesh fingers in you.

“Give me one more before i breed you” He demanded and you involuntarily clench around his fingers as he hits your g-spot. You threw your head back against the pillows and arched your back when he curled his fingers in you. He was soft yet going hard enough to make you mewl around his fingers.

“Oh baby- i-im gonna cum again” Bucky smiled at your words and picked up the pace a little making sure to hit all the right spots. He kept thrusting into you making you cry out in pleasure as you feel your second orgasm build up and crash over you. And just like before you were so blissed out to even notice that you squirted all over his stomach and fingers.

“What a good girl” Bucky smiled pulling his fingers out of you and then licking them clean with a deep guttural moan. “So sweet too” He smiled and came back up to your face and brought you in for a sweet kiss.

You kissed him back with the same passion while you tried to take off his pants but failed to which he laughed. “Here let me babygirl” He chuckled and swiftly removed his jeans and boxers leaving him bare in front of you. Luckily for you Bucky was so hard to the point that he didn’t spend anytime teasing you. He gave himself a few tugs to get him even harder before he lined his head up with your entrance.

“You ready bub?” He asked bringing one of his hands up to your cheek and rubbed it gently. All you could do in that moment was nod enthusiastically. He slowly inched himself into you causing you to suck in a breath at the stretch. He started thrusting into you slowly being careful not to hurt his precious doll.

“Ugh you feel so fucking good baby” Bucky grunted in your ear slowly picking up his pace. Your hands flew to his shoulders and you held him closer.

“God youre so good daddy” You moaned into his ear as he thrusted into you a little harder. You could feel your muscles tighten around his cock essentially choking his cock.

“Gonna fill you up pretty girl.. gonna make you a mommy” His words threw you over the edge and into your now third orgasm.

“Please please breed me daddy” You begged breathlessly mewling at every thrust. “Wanna be a mommy PLEASE!” You screamed when he started to thrust into you harder clearly chasing his own high.

“Fuck baby. Fucking take it like the good girl you are. Take it all baby” He grunted as he felt his balls tighten. “FUCKFUCKFUCK!” It didn’t take much longer for him to fully spill his seed into you and fucking it back into you to endure youll get pregnant. Once he finished filling you he slowly pulled out and then laid by your side attempting to catch his breath.

“Did you mean it?” You asked rolling over on your side and then laying in his chest. “Do you really wanna have kids with me?” The question came out a little bit more insecure than you wanted but oh well.

“Of course i do baby. I want nothing more than to start a family with you doll” He said happily as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead and then wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Do you think I’ll get pregnant from this time?” Bucky chuckled at your question which made you furrow your brows in confusion.

“If it didn’t then we will keep going til you do babydoll” He kissed you again and you never felt more loved or happy in that moment.

The rest of the night was spent giving each other sweet kisses and Bucky showing you just how much he wanted a family with you.

And nine months later you welcomed your adorable daughter Lilith mae rose barnes to the world.

~The end~

[anna-hawk]

The Eggnog Effect

Nicomund the Red | Santa Claus x F!Reader

Summary: You passed out on your friend's couch and wake up to find Santa Claus leaving a gift for your godchild.

WC: 6.2k // Explicit 🔞

Warnings: Christmas smut, bad jokes and cheesy wordplays

For @roguesandsaviors who's love for David Harbour triggered me into trying my hand at writing smut for someone else than Jon 😁

Also on AO3

You frowned as you slowly woke up, wondering about the small tinkling sound that got you out of your slumber in the first place. Cracking one eye open, you tried to make out your immediate surroundings, but your face was smushed into a pillow. A throw pillow, to be more precise. 

Ever since the birth of your godchild, your best friend and husband had started asking you to spend Christmas Eve with them. How could you say no to witnessing the kid’s eyes growing big with wonder after discovering the presents lying underneath the Christmas tree? 

Usually, though, you spent the night in the guest bedroom and not on the living room couch. You berated yourself for the sore neck you were likely getting from the sleeping position and grumbling internally about the long hours spent at work today that resulted in your exhaustion when you heard that noise again.  

Blinking and opening both eyes now, you glimpsed some movement to the side of the couch, where you knew the Christmas tree to be. As you twisted to your back, your eyes caught onto something red and large and… 

“Oh God, I really need to leave off the eggnog next time… I’m actually seeing Santa now,” you groaned and quickly rubbed over your tired eyes. 

Except that there was that tinkling again, more agitated, which made you open your eyes once more only to be met by the sight of a large man standing stock still just a few feet away from you. His wide eyes stared at you with a mix of panic and annoyance. 

“Oh shit,” you breathed as realization sank in, and you understood that your brain wasn’t playing tricks on you but that there was a stranger in the house and… You opened your mouth to scream, but the man was on you in a fraction of a second. A large palm covered the entire lower half of your face and stopped you from uttering any sound, while the other hand held the man up on the armrest under your head. 

“Shhh,” he hissed, his eyes lifting to the entrance of the living room to check if anyone was coming, before they bore into yours.

Oddly enough, and maybe it was still the eggnog talking, you didn’t try to fight, despite the way his large frame loomed over you. You didn’t move at all, actually, as you met his gaze. The only thought going through your mind was, oh, he’s got blue eyes. You stayed in the same position for several more seconds, his eyes never leaving yours as he assessed the situation. Realizing that you weren’t going to out him, the man slowly removed his hand from you and stood. You stayed where you were, observing him curiously; the white blond curly beard and hair under an askew red and white cap, the deep red leather coat lined with white fur spanning over a wide chest and shoulders, a pair of shiny, black boots. Everything about him screamed Santa Claus, but he was also nothing like the various men playing Santa in malls and other places. Those other Santas had also never elicited such a strong response from your body, either. 

“Who are you?” you breathed, mindful to keep your voice down, when really, the question should have been what are you doing here? Or, what do you want? 

“Who do you think I am?” he grumbled, while you watched him glare at a small bag and rummage around in it with a frustrated expression. 

Your eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets when the man thrust his whole arm into the bag, and it just vanished inside, which should have been impossible given how tiny the bag was compared to his arm. 

“Where the fuck is it?” 

“I didn’t know that Santa swears,” you snorted at the absolutely crazy sight in front of you. 

“He does when the presents aren’t where they’re fucking meant to be,” he muttered, before his face turned into a satisfied grin. “Aha.” His arm slowly came back out, followed by a large, neatly wrapped present. 

You blinked in rapid succession as you took in the size of the present and the size of the bag again. Yup, something was definitely up. A bicycle, for a five-year-old or not, would never fit in that bag if something… You snorted to yourself as the word magical ran through your mind. Don’t be ridiculous, you thought to yourself. But then the man pulled out an actual scroll of parchment, which started to glow as he pulled it apart. Sitting up, you stared at the man as he scanned the contents of the scroll with a thoughtful look. 

“What’s that? Your naughty and nice list?” you sniggered, while pulling your legs under you on the couch and letting your eyes drift over him appreciatively. 

“Mmhm,” he replied absently, seemingly looking for something in particular. 

Your eyebrows rose in surprise at his easy admittance, before you began laughing under your breath. 

“Tell me, Santa. Am I on your naughty list?” You leaned your head against your palm and rested your elbow on the armrest, smirking as you drawled the word naughty. 

“Nope,” he answered instantly, while your flirty expression went completely unseen since he still didn’t look at you.

You frowned curiously at his reply and tilted your head to one side before slowly getting up and approaching him. This, at least, seemed to catch his attention because his eyes snapped to you as soon as you moved. He watched you with a slight frown. Curious. 

“You sure?” you grinned. 

This was all absolutely crazy. There was a fucking stranger in your friends’ house, pretending to be Santa and looking damn fine in that role, yet here you were, flirting outrageously with him anyway, when flirting usually felt awkward to you. The eggnog definitely was at play here. 

He chuckled and said your name. Your full name, which had you stopping dead in your tracks as you stared at him with wide eyes. 

“You’ve never been on the naughty list once,” he finished with a shrug. 

“How… Who…” 

How could he know your name? If he were a burglar, he’d probably only know your friends’ names since they were on the mailbox. He could have looked them up and seen your name popup in your best friend’s feeds on social media, but to what end? He’d just left a goddamn bike for your godchild instead of taking something. And that bag? That wasn’t a trick. 

The man sighed deeply. “Adults,” he muttered, before thinking for a second. “Do you remember what you wished for on Christmas when you were eight?” 

Taken aback by the question, you frowned and thought for a second before memories hit you, and you nodded as you opened your mouth to reply. Except that he said the same thing as you did at the exact same time as you. You took in a sharp breath of surprise. How could he know that? It was far too specific to be a random guess. Only if… 

“So what are you going to do when you leave? Pull a Men In Black and wipe my memory or something?” You crossed your arms with a chuckle as your brain accepted the crazy truth.

He snorted and shrugged. “Trust me, the very few people who have actually seen me have never talked about me. And if they did,” he trailed off with another meaningful shrug that clearly said, who’s gonna believe them? 

You nodded faintly at his logic. He wasn’t wrong. 

“I’m curious, though… What’s your actual name? Santa? Kris? Nick?” You headed to where your godchild had left the cookies and milk and picked up the plate with the cookies. You chose one for yourself and offered one to… Santa. 

He took a cookie but didn’t look away from you, his head shaking in amusement a second later. 

“Really? Of all the things you could ask, that’s what you wanna know?” 

You shrugged and bit off a piece of cookie, the man doing the same before he glanced down at it with an appreciative sound and nod, then looked into your expectant face again. 

“You can call me whatever you want. The list is pretty long.”

“But none of them are correct,” you surmised, watching him reach for the milk glass and taking a large gulp. “How about… Daddy Christmas?” 

You had to hold back your loud laugh as he sprayed his mouthful all over his front at your words. He tried to cough as silently as he could and shot you a death glare as you stood there with a satisfied grin on your face. 

“Am I on the naughty list yet?” 

His nostrils flared as he wiped crumbs and milk off his beard and coat before he stalked over towards you until he was in your face. 

“You should be more careful with what you wish for, girl,” he growled, yet instead of feeling threatened, you felt more than turned on. 

“Oh? What are you gonna do? Give me your big lump of coal?” you breathed, loving how big and tall he was. 

Santa blinked at you once, twice, then burst into laughter, which had you smiling broadly. 

“Gotta admit, this was a new one.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but something chimed close by, which had him checking his watch. “Fuck!”

Picking up two other cookies, he headed towards the fireplace and lifted a finger to his nose, sparks firing as he did so, but then he looked back at you. 

“Nicomund,” he said softly, which had your eyes widen at the revelation of his name.

He smiled and pressed his gloved finger against his nose. 

“Merry Christmas.” 

He was gone in a swish of golden sparks a second later. 

One year later

Dressed in a festive pair of pajamas, you yawed widely as you looked at the clock sitting in the midst of Christmas decorations on the mantelpiece. You stretched your arms over your head and shook your head to try fending the sleepiness off. 

You were back at your friends’ house and sitting on the same couch as last year. Last year, when you’d met the actual Santa Claus. You’d spent weeks doing research on the origins of Christmas, yet none of the results had been conclusive in any form. You’d guessed that people truly didn’t usually see him like he’d told you. After a while, you almost wanted to believe that the whole thing had only been a dream, coming from too much eggnog and sleep-deprivation. Except that he’d given you his name. Nicomund. You couldn’t have dreamed that up. The name had actually given you some vague results as you’d given it in. Nicomund the Red, a former viking warrior. Who was supposed to have lived over a thousand years ago. Considering what you’d witnessed, you didn’t even think it that farfetched that they could be one and the same person. The way he’d talked had clearly hinted at the fact that he’d been doing this for a very long time. He knew who you were. Even as a child. Yet, he didn’t look older than his late forties or early fifties. 

As much as you enjoyed loosing yourself in fantasies in books and so on, you considered yourself as a pragmatic person in real life. You liked facts and magic, while a fun concept, had never seemed like something real. And yet… After what you’d seen… 

That’s why you wanted to stay awake on Christmas Eve. Prove that you hadn’t actually dreamed everything up. And you might have also wanted to see him again, just because. It was ridiculous. You hadn’t been able to go on a date the whole past year, Nicomund popping up in your head at random times. The way you’d felt attracted to him had left you reeling. He’d been in full Santa gear, yet all you’d been able to see were his blue eyes, his large frame and drawling deep voice, the combination lighting your entire body up. 

Your eyes drifted to the clock again, watching the time slowly approach one in the morning. Resting your head against the couch, you closed your eyes and sighed. A very comfortable bed was waiting for you just down the hall, and your body wanted nothing more than to sink into it and sleep after the long day you’d had again. But what if you missed him? Your fingers curled around a folded up piece of paper resting on your lap. Just in case, you’d written him a note, requesting him to wake you up if you were to fall asleep. With your eyes still closed, you smirked to yourself at the few lines you’d written. Maybe you could tell him yourself later. You would open your eyes in a second. You were just resting them a bit. 

Weren’t you supposed to be asleep for Santa to show up? 

The next thing you heard was a loud and excited scream coming from close by, having you jerk awake in your bed… Bed? Sitting up quickly, you realized that you were lying in the guest bedroom. When had you moved there? The last thing you remembered was that you’d been sitting on the couch and fiddling with the note. The thought of the note had you looking all around yourself and the floor, yet there was nothing there. Quickly getting up and slipping into a pair of warm slippers, you almost ran to the living room to look for the note. The only thing you found was your godchild gushing about the presents sitting under the tree, your friends standing around him with broad smiles. 

“Merry Christmas,” they called at nearly the same time as they saw you walk in. 

Tearing your eyes away from the couch and the floor, you schooled your features into a bright smile and replied in kind, hugging the couple and then kneeling to do the same to their kid. You helped rip into the wrappings and forced yourself to focus on what was going on around you. 

As the day went on, you never found the note, but you were still absolutely certain that Nicomund had been the one to get you into bed. You might have been exhausted, but you would have remembered it if you’d gotten up to go to bed on your own. Disappointment shot through you at the realization that you wouldn’t get the chance to see him again until the next year. If at all.  

Later that same day, you had dinner with your family, which served to take your mind off things for several hours. It wasn’t until later that night and once you’d returned to your place well after midnight and gotten ready for bed, that you sighed dejectedly again. In your pajamas and leaning against the counter of the open kitchen that looked into the living room, you slowly sipped water from a glass when your fireplace made a sputtering noise. Frowning, you put the glass down behind you and walked into the living room, only to yelp in surprise when golden sparks appeared and formed into the shape of a man a few feet away from you. 

“Holy shit,” you whispered, eyes wide and heart racing. 

Nicomund met your gaze and smirked at your gobsmacked expression. 

“Merry Christmas,” he rumbled. 

Your mouth moved silently as your eyes slowly took in his appearance. Gone were the red coat and hat, instead he was wearing a loose, off-white colored shirt and had his hair pulled up in a messy bun, showing off more of his handsome face. The V in the shirt’s neckline revealed the beginning of circular tattoos with what appeared to be runes. All the air rushed out of your lungs at the whole sight. He definitely wasn’t Santa right now, meaning that it really wasn’t the outfit that did it for you, since you were getting even more turned on than the previous year. 

“What are you doing here?” you croaked, your mind having a hard time realizing that he was standing in your living room. “Christmas is over.”

“It is, yeah… I thought you wanted to see me.” He put his bare hands into the pockets of his red pants and tilted his head at you. 

Your eyebrows lifted at that. “Why didn’t you wake me up then?” you muttered, pursing your lips slightly. 

“Not enough time,” he answered easily, eyeing you slowly.

“For what?” you breathed, swallowing at the way he was staring at you. The way he'd said it hinted at more than just him running behind schedule. 

“I got your note,” he said instead, and pulled the neatly folded paper out of one of his pockets, scanning it lazily after unfolding it. “You got real creative.” He lifted his gaze to yours briefly, the eye contact and implications of his words having heat rushing to your face. 

Biting over your bottom lip and taking strength in the knowledge that he came to find you once he’d been done with delivering presents, you grinned at him cheekily. 

“You said that I was never on your naughty list, so I figured that I could get a reward for having been such a good girl over the years.” 

You took a step closer to him, seeing him watching you attentively, expression unreadable. 

“And that’s what you had in mind?” His eyes went back to your note. “Dear Santa, I’ve been particularly good this year. Please let me play with your Christmas ornaments and suck on your candy cane. And while Santa Claus is coming to town, I’ll be sure to show how good I can go to town on Santa Claus. And please don’t forget to stuff my Christmas stockings with your big present. Hoe, hoe, hoe, Merry Christmas.”

Hearing him read the note out loud in that husky drawl had all the heat from your face rushing down your body. You couldn’t even feel the slightest bit of embarrassment at your silly wordplay, especially when you could see the corner of his mouth pulling up as he read, while his voice deepened by the end. His eyes lifted to yours once he was done, before he let them travel over your body. Slowly, taking all of you in, his blue eyes dark in the half light cast by the living room lamp. Your lips parted as soft pants left your mouth, your heart rate picking up at his intense perusal. 

“May I have my Christmas present now?” you breathed after taking a step closer and leaving you only a few inches away from him. 

He huffed out an amused laugh, but you didn’t miss the way he lightly leaned towards you, his large chest moving up and down faster. 

“Show me how good you can be,” he rumbled, as he let go of the note, which fluttered to the floor. 

As you reached for his face with one of your hands, you caught his surprised expression when your fingers gently ran along his bearded jaw and towards the back of his head to pull him towards your mouth. Considering the low sound he made as your lips met, he had nothing against kissing, he seemed more surprised by your gentle touch, that you wanted more than just something frenzied and fast. But you did want. Corny and over the top sexual Christmas wordplay aside, you really wanted the man. All of him. 

Slipping your tongue along his while slightly pulling at his hair, Nicomund growled and pushed into you, his hands moving into action as they travelled around your waist and down to your ass. His beard tickled deliciously around your mouth as he kissed you back fiercely. The first physical proof of his arousal pressed against you, making your breath catch at the size you could feel. Taking a step back away from him, you quickly found his eyes as you sunk to your knees before him. Nicomund’s breath came in short pants as his dark eyes watched you lifting your hands to the fastenings of his red pants. You took your time pulling the golden buttons from their respective holes, while you could see his erection straining the fabric just below. After you were done, you tugged the pants and underwear down enough to reveal his length. Unable to keep your eyes away, you finally looked at his gorgeous cock, proudly standing away from his body, the head red and shiny with pre-come. 

“As red as Rudolf’s nose,” you muttered lightly, almost to yourself, except that Nicomund heard every word. 

“Fuck, you’re terrible. Don’t make me change my mind,” he grumbled, sounding between amused and exasperated.

Slipping out of the top half of your pajamas to reveal your breasts, you glanced up at him with a smirk. 

“You really wanna stop, Daddy Christmas?” you teased, right before leaning forward to lick up a long stripe from the base to the top of his cock. 

His body went rigid at the touch, while he groaned. Suddenly, one of his hands was in your hair, the fingers sliding against your scalp and moving your head up, so you had no choice but to look at him. A long moan slipped free from you at the treatment, which had Nicomund grinning in satisfaction. 

“You’re not really being a good girl right now, y’know. Bein’ a lil tease and all. Thought you wanted to show me how good you can be.” His voice was low and washed over you in a delicious wave, stoking your lust further. 

Nodding instead of replying verbally, you let your mouth fall open and your tongue peek out in invitation. Nicomund hummed, pleased, and guided you towards his cock. 

“There we go,” he rasped, as he slowly slid over your tongue, stretching your lips with his girth. 

Once he was as far as you could manage without gagging, he stopped moving. His hand remained in your hair, but he neither pushed nor pulled, waiting for you to decide what to do next. You kept him like this for as long as was comfortable before you slowly drew back and gently suckled over the head, while you wrapped your fingers around him. Nicomund groaned as you angled his cock up for you to tongue and suck under the head, teasing the sensitive nerves. You took your time sucking all over him, savoring the sounds you could get out of him, your body heating whenever he cursed under his breath when you did something he particularly enjoyed. 

Listening to his breaths picking up speed and feeling his hips jerking as he got closer to release, you were surprised when he gently removed you off him with the same hand as before. Lifting your head since you had expected – wanted – him to come in your mouth, you gazed at him in confusion. He reached for one of your arms and pulled you to your feet before he was kissing you hungrily. Which you didn’t mind in the slightest, as you folded your arms around his chest to answer in kind, your nipples hardening as they rubbed against the material of his shirt. 

“Wanna be inside you,” he admitted roughly, talking against your mouth. 

You keened in the back of your throat and nodded fervently. How could you not want that? 

“Yes,” you hissed, kissing him deeply. 

“Bed?” he rasped, and it took your brain a second to get your body to move. 

“Yeah, okay.” You took his hand and pulled him out of the living room and towards your bedroom. 

Inside the room, Nicomund drew you back to him for a quick kiss before he bent over to pull down your pajama pants and get them off you. You clutched at his shoulders as he divested you of the clothes. 

“Sit on the edge of the bed,” he ordered, having your move instantly. 

You observed him through hooded eyes and pressed your legs together at the tingle of anticipation running through your core as you watched him undress. You would have loved to do it for him, but this gave you the opportunity to let your eyes feast on him as he revealed his tattooed body, the shirt falling to the floor. He was large and strong, but with a softness around his belly that had your fingers prickling with the desire to touch. His hair was a mess of curls, in and out of the hairband holding it back. You expected him to remove the rest of his clothes and stared into his face questioningly when he didn’t, only to realize that he was already watching you. Stepping towards you and making you spread your legs for him to stand between them, Nicomund towered over you as he gazed down at you with a playful glint in his eyes. 

“Thought you might want me to keep them on. So you don’t forget who exactly is fucking you.”

Your whole body heated with lust and embarrassment alike. You wanted to open your mouth to explain that you didn’t have a Santa kink, that you’d never thought of Santa in that way, but after the jokes you’d made, you couldn’t fault him for teasing you about it. Only, you didn’t care who he was. You’d have wanted him the same way had he been the Sandman, or just a normal man as well. And to be honest, having him almost fully clothed while you were naked was also turning you on. 

“Is it time for your big present, then?” You bit over your bottom lip as you stared up at him with a hopeful expression. 

Chuckling, Nicomund leaned down to your eye level. 

“Not yet,” he hedged, and knelt between your legs. “First I gotta get a taste of your…” He thought for a second. “Cookie.” 

Your eyes widened at the unexpected wordplay and what it meant. He didn’t give you the time to further react as he grabbed your hips to pull them halfway over the edge of the bed and sink between your legs. You barely had the time to catch yourself with your hands behind you on the bed at the first swipe of his tongue over your wet folds. Crying out at the hotness of his tongue combined with the soft scratching of his beard on your sensitive skin, you fought to keep your eyes open to watch him. Heat ran through you at the way he so clearly took pleasure in eating you out. He took his time doing it too, at first only giving you broad licks that didn’t hold that much strength and mostly served to wind you slowly up as his tongue became more precise. Your eyes fluttered, and you panted once he began using the tip of his tongue to run maddening circles around your exposed clit. As you were getting louder and louder the stronger the pressure of his tongue became, Nicomund suddenly stopped and, instead, focused his attention on your inner thighs, kissing and teasing his beard across your skin. Your legs quivered from the change of pace, and you wanted nothing more than to bring his head back to where it had been. He seemed content to keep torturing you, however, and you knew in that moment that you would be dealing with beard burn the next day. 

“Nicomund… please?” you breathed on a whimper, gazing down at him and catching his eye as he looked up at you without stopping his ministrations. 

Your expression seemed to trigger something in him because his mouth and tongue were back on your clit in the next second. You had to throw your head back at the explosive pleasure shooting through you as his lips surrounded that little bundle of nerves, and he sucked on it enthusiastically. You screamed in bliss and tangled your fingers in his hair, silently begging him to stay right there. From the way he growled, he had no intention of going anywhere anyway. He pressed his thumbs into your thighs, pushing your legs further open and pulling your folds apart as his mouth ripped more and more delirious sounds from you. As two of his fingers slowly sank into you and curled up to start fucking you, your whole body wrapped over his head, your orgasm hitting you with such intensity that your legs locked against Nicomund’s shoulders. 

While you were slowly coming back to yourself, Nicomund kissed his way up your mound, hip and belly, his soft touches making your body shake with more than just the aftershocks, your entire body feeling sensitized. When he reached your stomach, you cupped his head with your hands and leaned down to kiss him deeply. His beard was damp, while his lips still tasted like you, having a new shiver of desire going through you. Nicomund grunted into your mouth as he knelt up, curling one arm around your waist while the other held him up behind your back. Without ever breaking the kiss, he got to his feet and leaned over you until you were almost lying on the bed. You moved up the bed with his help, just enough for him to get his knees on the mattress and pull your legs over his thighs properly. Meanwhile, your hands took their time exploring his body, running all over his back and sides, reveling in his size and comforting weight on top of you. Your fingers encountered a few scares as they went, bringing the reminder of your research back to mind. Only fights and battles could explain the size and placements of some of them. And then there were the tattoos. Santa Claus was an ancient Viking warrior. The concept was absolutely wild, but you put the wayward thought to the side in favor of focusing on the whole man on top of you. 

Nicomund lifted his head a few inches and held himself over you to look into your face. He was breathing hard, sweat starting to form at his temples, his eyes traveling between your lips and eyes. You looked at him dazedly and smiled before lifting your head, keeping your eyes open, to press your mouth against his. You repeated the action a few more times, seeing his chest rise and fall faster each time. 

“Are you going to make me beg again?” you whispered, your lips grazing his. 

He chuckled and stroked a thick thumb over your jaw. 

“Please, Santa, pour your milk all over my-”

His mouth crashed into yours, effectively shutting you up, but unable to stop you from giggling. 

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” he growled, shifting on top of you. 

“But cookies always need – oh fuck!” 

This time, his method was more convincing, as he used your momentarily distraction while you teased him to line up with your entrance and push inside you in one long and powerful slide. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and threw your head back as he had you crying out with each snap of his hips, his length making you feel as full as you’d wished for. Nicomund mouthed around your jawline, grunting into your skin as he thrust into you repeatedly. Leaning your head forward again, you drew his mouth in for an open-mouthed kiss, sucking and biting his bottom lip, trying to give back as much as you could in your position. It seemed to be enough for him, since he slammed into you harder, groaning as you moaned even louder while your inner walls pulsed around him. 

“Feel so good,” you moaned, your voice breathy and high-pitched, your legs curling over his thighs as extreme pleasure unfurled inside you again. 

“Fuck,” he gritted out roughly, staring down at you with burning eyes. “You gonna come for me again?” 

You nodded. “Please? Nicomund… Please!” 

You couldn’t get enough of the feeling of this man on top of you, making you feel needy like never before. With his large frame, glistening with sweat and strong arms holding him up at your sides as his hips drove you higher and higher, piercing blue eyes roving over your face. 

“Yeah, come on, go ahead. Been such a good girl for me. Such a good-”

His words cut off as you exploded around him at the praise, a long wail of ecstasy coming through your mouth, before you pulled his mouth back onto yours for a desperate kiss. After several more thrusts, Nicomund groaned as one of his hands shifted to your hair and formed a fist in it. He tugged at it to expose your jaw to breathe against it as he fucked in and out of you at a fast pace. Still overwhelmed by your second orgasm, you let him move you the way he needed and only linked your arms tightly around his shoulders, small, pleasured whimpers leaving you. When he came, his whole body shuddered over yours, his hips jerking repeatedly as he emptied himself inside you with a long groan. 

Neither of you moved as you simply rested for a few minutes, savoring the afterglow while you gently combed your fingers through his hair. 

“Mmh… this was definitely worth waiting a whole year for,” you mumbled sleepily, the long day catching up to you at last. 

Nicomund chuckled warmly and raised his head from where it had been resting against your shoulder.  You grinned up at him and stroked your fingers along his beard before letting them trail down his shoulders, your eyes following their path, as he moved further up. 

“Nicomund the Red,” you muttered quietly, swirling an index over a circular tattoo on his chest. They were all gorgeous and reached down to both of his arms. 

You felt him go still under your hands and met his stunned gaze. You smiled softly, keeping up your exploration. 

“I like research,” you explained with a small shrug. “Didn’t find much, really, but I couldn’t…” You looked away from his face. 

“Couldn’t what?” he asked in a quiet rumble. 

“You read the note, Nicomund… I didn’t start thinking about writing it only yesterday,” you hedged. 

This was as much as you wanted to reveal about how often you’d thought about him this past year. Sure, you’d been attracted to him from the get go and had fun with all the wordplay, but you’d also been genuinely intrigued by him. 

Nicomund didn’t say anything for a beat, but then shifted your bodies until he was slipping out of you and rolling you to your side to face him. 

He cleared his throat. “Well… I was kinda wondering if you’d be at your friends’ again.” 

You uttered a small, happy laugh at his admittance and closed your eyes. The feeling only lasted a moment as you realized that he wouldn’t be staying, however. Nicomund was still Santa Claus, for crying out loud. Your smile turned sad as you fully realized that this couldn’t go anywhere. Opening your eyes and staring at his chest, you kept tracing the tattoos quietly, thinking. 

“Will you come back next year?” you finally brought yourself to ask, your eyes still downcast. 

A warm palm stroked over your jaw and tilted your head up to meet warm blue eyes. 

“Only if you stay off the naughty list,” he said, going for humor to lift the suddenly heavier mood, but his smile was slightly off. 

You couldn’t help but snort anyway and gave him a small smile, the implications of his comment clear. You’d always been on the nice list, so surely…

“No promises,” you whispered, having him huffing out a small laugh this time, while his fingers ran along the back of your neck in a wonderfully soothing way. 

Your eyes slowly fell close, your fingers stopping their path on his skin as his touch lulled you to sleep. You were completely unable to fight it and soon, the last thing you felt were soft lips on your forehead. 

With no surprise, you were alone the next morning.

One week later. 

Two hours past the new year, after your friends had left, and you’d put the night’s dinner leftovers in the fridge, you sank onto the couch with a glass of eggnog. You stared at the liquid with bleary eyes, smiling to yourself as you thought of Nicomund. It was a bittersweet thought, but you tried to keep any sadness away whenever you thought of him. Still slightly tipsy, you berated yourself for missing the opportunity to make a bad joke with eggnog. Maybe you should write it in next Christmas’ note. You could already see him rolling his eyes at you and grinned. 

Taking a sip and leaning your head back over the couch, you let your mind drift to the moment when you’d been lying face to face, his hands in your hair. 

A whoosh of air suddenly went through the living room, having you gasp and sit upright again. Your mouth fell open at the now familiar golden sparks coming through the fireplace. A few seconds later, you were looking into Nicomund’s face. 

“Happy new year?” he rumbled tentatively. 

Standing and looking at your glass, you put it down on the coffee table and tilted your head at him. 

“I should really, really leave off the eggnog,” you said as you approached him. “I’m starting to see Santa at New Year.” 

“Maybe you’ll see me at Easter too,” he smirked, leaning towards you as you cupped his face to kiss him. 

[fluentmoviequoter]

Merry and Bright

Day 9 of 12 Days of Ficmas

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader (The Rookie)

Summary: You invite Tim over on Christmas Eve, but he says he's working. A Christmas miracle occurs and Tim knocks on your door, presents in tow.

Word Count: 1.4k+ words

Warnings: so much fluff. How the Grinch Stole Christmas references. Tim is probably OOC. I made up some stuff about Tim and his sister.

A/N: I haven't written for Tim Bradford yet, so please feel free to leave feedback and let me know what you think! I'd like to keep writing for him and try to capture his amazing character better so please feel free to send requests if you have any!

Masterlist Directory | Request Info (& full fandom list)

Since you inserted yourself into Tim’s life, barging your way in with a basket of goodies after moving in next door, he has quickly become one of your best friends. If he’s undeniably handsome and one of the most caring men you’ve ever met despite his grumpy exterior, so what? You asked yourself that the first time you invited him over for dinner, but now it’s a weekly occurrence, and it is your week to cook.

Your favorite one-pan dish is in the oven, and the game is queued on your television, but all that’s missing is Tim Bradford. As you decorated for Christmas this year, you thought about him and how his sister isn’t coming to LA for the holidays, leaving him alone. You’ve since decided to do something about that.

“Anyone home?” Tim asks as he opens your door. “Because I know I’ve told you more times than I can count to lock your door.”

You look around the corner and smile at him as you argue, “My neighbor’s a cop, it’ll be fine.”

“Sergeant, not a cop.”

“My apologies, Sergeant Bradford.”

He smiles at you, less rare than it used to be, but a moment you take the time to appreciate, never knowing when he will grace you with another one.

“So, I know your sister isn’t visiting,” you begin, “and I was wondering if you’d be interested in spending Christmas here?”

Tim glances at your Christmas tree before answering. “I would love to, and I can’t thank you enough for thinking of me and offering, but I’m working Christmas Eve.”

“Okay,” you say, nodding as you smile. “I just wanted to extend the invitation.”

You turn around to remove dinner from the oven, and Tim places a hand on your arm, stopping you.

“Thank you,” he repeats quietly and bordering on reverent. “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course. You’re always welcome here.”

“I’m sorry. I would come if I could.”

“Tim, it’s fine. I’ll just have to give you your giant stack of gifts later,” you tease.

Tim nods, removing his hand from your arm and watching you turn away, his heart trying to decide whether it wants to shrink or grow.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Bradford, are you good?” Wade asks as he leaves the station.

“Fantastic,” he mumbles. Wade looks at him, unconvinced, and he sighs before saying, “I just wish I could be somewhere else. I’m glad I could help out the officers with families, with kids, and give them the night off, but…”

“You’re regretting it?” Wade finishes.

“Not exactly.”

“Well, if you want to come over when you get off, we’ll leave the lights on,” Wade offers.

“Thanks,” Tim says. He doesn’t add: I’ve got somewhere else I’d rather be.

Someone walks up behind Tim and places a Santa hat on his head.

“Cheer up, Grinchy,” Angela calls, walking out of the station. “Merry Christmas, Tim!”

“Yeah,” Tim says, more to himself than her.

“Dude, we need to find you a K9 named Max, finish off the Grinch look,” Aaron teases, sitting next to Tim as his shift begins. He’s working tonight for the same reason Tim is: to let the officers with families spend Christmas with their loved ones.

“Oh, should we get him a little heart pin, too, and try to make it grow?” Nolan chimes in.

“Sorry, Bradford, but you’re just so… Grinchy,” Aaron says.

Tim laughs, shaking his head as the Santa hat shifts with his movement. Nolan and Aaron look at each other in horror and amusement at the fact that Tim Bradford, who is wearing a Santa hat, just laughed. Tim, however, is only thinking of you and how you’d absolutely agree with them. Although, if you were here, or if he was with you, he wouldn’t be quite so Grinchy.

“Merry Christmas, LAPD!” Officer Jan announces, entering the station in a full Santa costume. “I have come to relieve one lucky soul of Christmas Eve duty.”

“Bradford!” Aaron and Nolan yell. “He has somewhere to be.”

“How do you-?” Tim asks.

“It’s all over your face,” Aaron says as Nolan answers, “Go get her… whoever she is.”

Tim looks at Jan, who nods encouragingly. Tim jumps to his feet and runs to his locker. He’s heading home for Christmas, but he has one stop. As he changes before climbing in his truck, he makes a mental list of everything he needs. Merry Christmas to all, Tim thinks.

✯✯✯✯✯

You smile at the ending of the Christmas movie on your television, your thoughts drifting to Tim as you wonder what it would be like to have him here. As you try to focus on the movie again, someone knocks on your door.

When you open it, you don’t expect to see Tim in a Santa hat and holding several gift bags. Your eyes widen, and your smile returns as you let him in, closing the door behind him. He opens his mouth to say something, but you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him tightly before he gets the chance. His arms wrap around you, loosely at first, before tightening when a Christmas song begins playing through your speakers as the credits roll. 

“I brought gifts,” he says against your shoulder.

“You didn’t have to. I just wanted to see you,” you reply.

He squeezes you once more, and you slowly step back, pulling out of the hug and looking up into Tim’s eyes.

“You brought hot chocolate?” you ask, stealing a peek into one of the bags.

“It’s Christmas,” he answers, as if it’s obvious.

“Didn’t take you for the sentimental type.”

“I’m not always.”

You smile and gesture for him to follow you, leading him into the kitchen and pulling two Christmas-themed mugs from your cupboard.

“Thank you for coming,” you tell him.

“Thanks for inviting me.”

✯✯✯✯✯

After making the hot chocolate, you return to the couch and turn on A Charlie Brown Christmas as you resist leaning into Tim’s side.

“This is one of my favorites,” he says quietly, “my sister and I watched it every time it was on cable growing up.”

“It’s a classic,” you agree.

“We would watch it, drink hot cocoa or cider, whatever was in the kitchen, and exchange one gift on Christmas Eve,” Tim adds.

“Do you want to open a gift?” you ask, facing him. “There’s only a few hours until Christmas anyway.”

Tim thinks for a moment and then smiles at you. “Just one.”

You stand, retrieving a small box from under the tree while he pulls a gift from one of the bags. When you sit back down, you sit a little closer than before. He opens his present first, smiling and leaning in to hug you as he thanks you. When you open yours, you see a gift you’ve wanted for years but no one ever remembered. You start to thank him, but something happens along the way, and instead, your lips land on his. His hand raises to your arm as he reciprocates, but you realise your mistake (was it really a mistake? you ask yourself) and pull back.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

His hand slides up your arm to rest at the back of your neck. You see a new smile as he pulls you back in. Pressing your hand against his chest, you stop yourself.

“Are you sure?” you whisper.

“Have you ever seen me so merry and bright?” he asks, his smile the widest you’ve ever seen.

You pick up the pompom at the end of his Santa hat and chuckle. “You are pretty cuddly,” you reply, noticing his other arm has wrapped around your waist. 

He rolls his eyes, still smiling as he kisses you again. You shift backward, your hand landing on the remote and resuming the movie. Tim laughs as he pulls back, pulling you against him.

“How’d you get off work?” you ask.

“Jan came in and offered to cover for one of us, and I was volunteered because I was being too ‘Grinchy.’”

You gasp in faux surprise. “Tim Bradford? You? Grinchy? I can’t imagine it.”

He smiles, and you lean in to kiss him again, your new favorite pastime.

“Thank you for coming. This is the best Christmas ever,” you say against his lips.

“Until next year?” Tim asks.

“What happens next year?”

“We’ll see.”

“And for now we’re merry and bright?” you respond.

“The merriest and the brightest,” Tim jokes, pulling you against his side as Charlie Brown appears on screen.

Merry and Bright, indeed.

[heartsaturn]

decorating the christmas tree — nh13

nico hischier x fem!reader | ficmas day 1

summary: reader and nico decorate their christmas tree together. reader ends up in some christmas lights and confessions are made

warnings: just cute domestic moments with nico !! <33

a/n: FICMAS DAY ONE YAYYYY i’m so excited for this event guys 😭 i hope all of you enjoy day one and continue to read until christmas !! i know this one is a bit short but i love it soooo much

———————————————————————-

since the beginning of your relationship, christmas has always been a special time for you and nico. you met in the winter around christmas time, he met your parents when you decided to visit them for christmas, and you shared your first kiss on christmas eve. now, a few years into your relationship, the sentimentality of the christmas season has just grown stronger over time. thus, the excitement that you feel right now because you have gotten all of the ornament boxes out and the christmas tree is put up.

“i love decorating christmas trees,” you say to nico as she carries the last box of decorations out.

“i know, mein liebe. you mention it every christmas season,” nico says. he doesn’t say in an annoyed way. if anything, nico finds your love for the holidays adorable.

you open one of the boxes that carries christmas lights eagerly. you begin an attempt to untangle them. in this moment, nico turns around for a moment so he can open another box to help decorate. somehow, while nico has his back facing you, you manage to get a little stuck. the lights that you were battling with got entwined with the ends of your hair. you wish you had put your hair up now.

“how did you do this?” nico asks with a bit of an amused expression as he finally turns to see the situation that you have put yourself in.

“i don’t even know,” you sigh at your own stupidity, “can you help me please?”

“what kind of boyfriend would i be if i didn’t help you get christmas light out of your hair?” nico asks teasingly. he approaches you and gently holds the tangled part of your hair and the lights, examining the best way not to rip your hair out. after a while of little tugs and removing of some lights, nico got your hair free from the grasp of the evil christmas lights.

“thank you, neeks,” you says sheepishly, clearly embarrassed by your own clumsiness.

“anytime, mein liebe,” nico replies, a small smile gracing his face.

the decorating process continues with very little error. no ornaments break, the tree stays up and stable, and there are no more mishaps with lights. looking at the small bulbs while putting them on the tree, you notice the ones that you got on trips or ones that signify memories, and you can’t help but think back and smile at the thought.

“you have been very smiley today,” nico comments as he sits next to you on the couch. you both mutually decided to take a small break from decorating and just relax for a moment.

“i just like all of the memories we have connected to these decorations,” you hum softly, glancing at the tree and then back at nico.

“well, that’s why we buy them. we get them so we can see them every christmas and think about all of the fun we have had in the past,” nico explains. your legs now rest in his lap and his hands gently run up and down your leg comfortingly.

“do you remember getting that one?” you ask, pointing to one of the ornaments on the tree, “we got it for our first ever christmas when we started dating,”

“i do remember, we got it pretty early on in our relationship huh?” nico comments.

“i guess our planning ahead really worked out in the long run,” you say. your eyes meet nico’s deep brown ones and you can sense that he wants to say something more.

“you want to know something? i think i knew from the very beginning that we would be together for a long time. we just fit perfectly, almost like how all the decorations on the tree fit perfectly,” nico says. his words make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. you feel more loved than you ever have and it is incredible.

“nico, that was possibly one of the sweetest and cutest things you’ve ever said to me,” you reply.

“i’m telling the truth though. i knew that i loved you since the very beginning,” nico’s voice sounds softly. he still looks at you, though his look softens as the confession continues on.

“i loved you since the beginning too. i remember texting my friends after our fifth dating and saying that you could truly be the one,” you admit. the confessions just keep on flowing.

“now i am positive that i will be the one. i promise you that,” nico assures you. he then leans in and gives you a small peck on the lips. it’s short, but very sweet. the feeling of his lips on yours is something that you will never ever become tired of.

“damn, we’re pretty good at predicting each other. even since the beginning,”

“i know you, mein liebe. i always have,”

———————————————————————-

word count: 823

[frank1nsaint]

Franklin Part 1.

You look around the crowd of people, slightly overwhelmed by the turn out at the fair today. It was a Saturday night after all anyone who wanted to enjoy an ounce of fun weekend before work/school on Monday was here. Unfortunately for you crowds weren’t your thing since a fight tended to break out and nowadays a gun would be pulled quickly. 

“Damn! he walks like his dick is heavy” you hear 

You start coughing choking on your cola

“What?!!” Wanda comments

“She must be talking about Franklin”  Lashay adds as you all now looked towards where she looked, Franklin’s crew walked towards them mostly because of Leon but still they made their way towards you 

There’s a light laughter between you girls “Girl you crazy!” your best friend who just happens to be your cousin Harmony adds to the discussion 

“Oh shit they coming this way yall straighten up!” Tasha snaps quickly adjusting herself clothes  

You groan internally you didn’t want to deal with Franklin and his men. You were around them from elementary to now, and right now mentioning Franklin and his men was like mentioning the grim reaper and his minions. After Kevin's death and Franklin’s release, it was like they were untouchable, and anyone who crossed them ended up dead. Franklin didn’t have that innocent aura about him anymore, you couldn’t describe it he was different confident

“Ladies!” Mike Mike greets bowing his head

“Hey y'all” Lashay greets

“What y'all doing here?” Leon asks

“We are at the state fair duh we are here to get some drinks food and have fun” Wanda responds

“The questioning is what are y'all doing here?” Harmony asks

“Shit y'all can’t be the only ones having fun!” Jerome comments

You hang back as the group merges and moves through the fair. You would integrate, often joining the discussion, but for the most part you kinda just chilled in the back and watched as the couples (Tasha/Franklin, Wanda/Leon, Harmony/Sean Louie/Jerome) cupcaked while the rest of you walked at a distance from them. 

“Girl Sean talking about making me his girl” Harmony comments as you two finally made it back to your rented out home 

“Oh nice!” you say removing your shoes

“You had fun tonight?” 

“Yea!” you smile 

“Good see it was fun” she says in a “i told you so” mocking tone 

“Yea yea whatever!” you wave her off before retreating to the kitchen. You two spend the night conversing before heading off to sleep. 

Life goes on and not much can be said about trying to survive and make it in a world that wouldn’t allow you to. 

“No,” you look at your cousin with a dead face

“WHYYY GIRL? COMME ONNNN” she begs

“Why do I” you point to your chest, “need to go? Tasha, Lashay, Bri, CiCi they are all going” 

“Because cousin, it's a christmas/new years party, damn you wanna be the only bitch in south central staying home on new years eve??”

“You know i don’t like crowds” you argue “and you know damn well that house is about to be packed” 

“When will you get to experience partying at a drug lords house again?” she counters 

“I would hope never Harmony”

She fake cries “come on girl pleaaassseee” she begs as she hugs you

“Harmony”

“Franklin said bring all your friends you know I cant show up without you” 

“Why not?” 

“Because you are part of the package” 

“Just go with the girls” should 

She turns you to face her “Y/N! why don’t you want to come?”

You sigh “i already told you!” 

She gives you a light push “Fine, be boring, have no social life, have no love life, just  survive, Work, school, home, bills thats it???” She throws her hands up when you give her a blanks stare in return 

You roll your eyes as she walks away. What she said got to you eventually, you didn’t want to only survive, you wanted to live just not around Saint and his men, it's like a body dropped every time he was around. 

You ponder for a few days before approaching her, what could hurt a one time party never to be mentioned again at least you could counter if she ever asked you to leave again. 

“Whats the dress code?” you ask as you stand by the kitchen counter 

“What?” She asks as she mixes the rice on the stove

“For this party” you clarify 

She turns to you with a stunned face, mouth a jar wide grin quickly taking over, “you coming?!!!” she asks softly, when you nod she screams and throws her arms around you “OH MY GOD!!!! AHHHH! YES GIRLLLL YESSSS WHAT MADE YOU CHANGE YOUR MIND?”

“Okay calm down!”

“Sorry” she takes a deep breath “I’m just soo excited” 

“Yea yea whats the dress code i mean can i show up in jeans or?” 

“Jeans girl really?” you shrug “You can or you can get a nice pretty dress stand out, get your hair done, nails?”

“So dress up is the dress code?” 

She shrugged “he never said just you know dress nice”

“I can dress nice in jeans”

“In a dress!” she stresses

“Fine” you weren’t going to argue your way through this party 

“Ooh girl, I can't wait to go shopping, let me call the girls and then we can plan to go out together!” she comments before returning to the stove.  You groan already regretting agreeing to go to this party.

The night of the party approaches quickly and you feel your stomach doing flips, it was too late to tell Harmony you changed your mind, you two were looking for a parking spot in the neighborhood, it seemed like half of south central had already showed up to the party. 

You don’t even know how time flew by so quickly, one minute you're in the chair getting your hair done, next thing you're putting on your lipstick, perfume, shoes, now walking towards the door. Watching as people poured in and out of the party. 

The chilly LA evening weather was much appreciated as you were not trying to arrive at the house with a thin layer of sweat on your body. Not after you've primped and primed the entire day. 

“HEEEEYYYYY!”  Harmony greets as you two walk in 

“MY BABY IS HERE!” Sean yells on top of his lungs

You stand back as you watch them greet

“Y/N?” you hear your name 

You turn to face one of Franklin's men “I’ll take your coat”  

“Oh you shrug off your trench coat.”

“I missed you baby” you hear harmony whine in a baby voice you can’t help but laugh 

The house was sorta full, you could still see across the room and make faces you knew that wouldn't be the case in the next hour or so. You just know the party was bound to get shut down

You step further in securing the coat check in your clutch. 

“Hey”  you greet Franklin

“Glad you could make it Y/N” he greets giving you a half hug, you quickly inhale his cologne he smelled good you make a quick note to yourself 

“Thanks for the invite, we brought you this” you say handing him a gift bag

“Oh shit you didn’t have to” he smiles at you

You shrug “well my mama said never show up to a person's house empty handed you know” 

He nods “what yall get me?” He asks trying to move the tissue paper around 

“Oh uh really good wine” 

“Expensive wine”  Harmony adds

“And some Bourbon” 

“Expensive bourbon” 

“Okay Harmony!” you look at her incredulously causing Franklin to chuckle

She chuckles “I’m fucking with you girl but”  she turns to face Franklin, “my cousin went around turn looking for the best wine for you”

“Oh word?” he turns to face you a bright smile on his face 

You feel yourself getting flustered “No I just” you feel yourself blushing “It's a gift and I  like to give good gifts” you defend, you don’t even know why you were blushing 

“That's true you ever want a good gift you ask her she’ll find some good shit” 

You smile “I’m gonna say hi to the girls and boys”  you say walking away from them

“Awkward ass” Harmony comments causing Franklin and Sean to burst out laughing. You throw your middle finger at her and keep walking

It wasn’t that you were purposely trying to impress Franklin, it was just a gift. What would it look like showing up with cheap wine and liquor when you kept hearing about the thousands he was moving weekly.He would probably be offended, you heard about his temper. 

1 hour you say to yourself as you made your way around the room, thats it thats how long you were staying 1 hour. You eventually find a small group of girls to talk to, avoiding Harmony and the rest as they were either in the circle with Franklin or right near it, in the center of the house. When you turn to look at that area you catch a glimpse of Tasha on Franklin's lap, with a flash she gets up and other women take a seat on his lap, you shake your head internally before returning to the conversation. 

The next time you look down at your watch you realise 2 hours had passed. It was already past 11pm and you should have been home by now. 

You quickly chug the water you have been drinking, (you weren’t gonna take risks drinking and driving) you slowly push your way through the massive crowd avoiding anyone from that group spotting you. Unbeknownst to you Franklin had his eye on you the entire night. He watched as you stood in the corner and talked to the girls, then back to the kitchen, bathroom, he even saw you spill water on yourself, he smiled slightly before returning to his conversation, no matter where you were tonight he made sure his eyes were on you. 

At one point you two make eye contact but you smile and quickly look away. Plus the comment Harmony made awhile back about him looking at you a certain way had you nervous being around the man, you can’t explain it you just wanted to get out of South Central unscathed and gaining the attention of Franklin wasn’t a plan. 

“Yea I’m leaving,”  you chuckle nervously while handing them the coat check

“Damn before New Years? it's gonna happen in like 40 minutes” 

“I know but I kinda wanna start getting home before traffic you know” you explain 

You already knew Harmony was gonna be with Sean tonight at his place you begged her to go to his instead of ruining your night with their sexcapeds gladly for you she agreed

He nodded in response “Yea that makes sense, LA traffic can get crazy” 

“Yea it can” You open your clutch to pull your keys but find nothing, you frantically push things around to see nothing, your lip gloss, napkins, mints and your wallet

“Shit” you say to yourself as you think back to the night? Did you leave them in the car? Are they with Harmony? Did they drop and you didn’t hear them? Your mind races trying to trace back the night. 

“Here you go” he says handing you your coat 

“Thanks”  

“Leaving so soon?”  you hear close to your ear from behind you, 

You instinctively tilt your head away, “Huh?”  as you continue to check the pockets quickly turning around slowly

You release your breath as you feel the keys in your coat pocket, you look up and see Franklin looking down at you smiling

“FUCK!”  you curse internally  “Heyyy” you smile quickly turning to glance at where he was to see if anyone else noticed. It was so packed now you couldn’t see past the sea of bodies now

“Leaving so soon?” he asks again pulling his hands behind his back 

You giggle nervously “Oh yea I don’t wanna get stuck in LA traffic”

He tilts his head slightly confused “But you just got here” 

“No i got here 2 hours ago” 

“I didn’t even get the chance to talk to you tonight” You make a face, he chuckles in response “I’m saying i wanted to catch up with you” he shrugs “we ain't really talked since highschool” 

“Oh” you shrug “nothing much going on with me” 

He smirks “Nah you more interesting than that, I aint even get the chance to tell you look good tonight yet,” You look down at your semi formal sweetheart dress, you were actually glad you agreed to dress up as many women were and you didn't’ want to be the odd one out actually even Franklin was dressed up suit tie the whole shebang

“Oh” you smile “thank you Franklin, you look good too clean up nice” 

He removes the coat from your hands gently “how about you stay a little longer?” he bargains

You chuckle nervously this could not be happening “Noo” you reach for the jacket but he puts it behind his back. “Franklin!”  you scold 

He smiles looking at you “comeon girl you can’t leave right before new years!” he argues 

“I don’t like driving at night. You know how the cops are? And its new years too!?” You catch his eyes drifting lower to your cleavage before making their way up to yours. You use that to your advantage and reach around but he quickly moves the jacket the opposite way

“Franklin!” you look towards where he was seating in the center of the house and see a very ugly mug on Tasha’s face and the other women seemed to share the same sentiment glaring in your direction 

“Come on its" he looks down at his watch, "only 30 more minutes, that can’t hurt” 

“No! Plus looks like Tasha is gonna kill you” you comment

“Tasha?”  he looks at where you tilted your head

“Oh shit!” he laughs “I don’t care about Tee” 

You cross your arms on your chest “Aren't you two dating?” 

“No!” 

“Mmmm well you might not be but she believes you two are and I need my coat Franklin” you open your hand out for him to give it to you

“I’ll take you home” 

“No how are you gonna get back here plus it's your party don’t be ridiculous!” 

“RIdiculous?” He guffaws  “I'm not the one leaving a new years party 30 minutes before new years that's the point of the party!” 

You huff and look up at the ceiling. You need to find a solution. You would leave the coat but it has your keys! He moves closer smiling at how flustered you were getting (“I just wanna go home”) you think to yourself, this shouldn’t be happening he should be dating Tasha. Why isn’t he? Weren't they over each other at the fair and tonight? What was this some freakyshit they were into or what?

“What is it?” He asks softly bringing your attention back to him, that damn smile, those dimples, nope no Y/N you need to go home

“Franklin I would like to go home please” 

“Y/N I told you I’ll take you home” 

“What about Tee?”

“Tee can get a ride home, why you keep brining her up?”

“Franklin”

“I’ll take you home. I promise”

“When?” 

“Right after the celebration is over!” he smiles slyly 

You frown “No thats like at 6am!” 

He chuckles you caught on quick “No give me till 1am at least” 

You contemplate no way you were getting the coat back that was for sure

“Fine you promise?” 

“I promise ima get Dreads or Mikey to take you”  You scoff “what?”

You  reach around and snatch your coat shocking him in the process

“No you said you were gonna take me home so you needed to take me home not punt me off to your men” you complain as you throw on your coat quickly 

He smiles at your brattiness “okay okay i will” he reaches for you

You move away from him “Nope i’m going home goodnight Franklin!” 

He sighs, “can you at least let me know you made it home safe?” 

“Fine i’ll page Tee” 

He  groans and you chuckle, he bites his bottom lip as he watches you walk away defiantly 

[leaentries]

17 and 🎄 on the list with drysdale:)

i’m so soft for jamie bro

lea’s christmas special!

You’ve always loved Christmas, even if you wake up 2 days before to a text from your family saying they couldn’t make it to you this year.

Jamie had noticed that you seemed down, compared to your usual jolly demeanor so close to your favorite day of the year. You were currently hanging out in his apartment, since this would be the last time you’d see him before he left for the holidays.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t sad about him leaving. Of course you understood and wanted him to go see his family, but with your family no longer serving as a distraction, his absence will definitely be felt.

You and Jamie had a strange relationship. The two of you said you were “best friends,” but the flirty remarks and touches proved differently. Everyone always assumed you were dating, but these claims were ultimately met with denial.

It was no secret that you had feelings for Jamie and you assumed it was reciprocated, but the fear of rejection was enough to keep you from saying anything.

“and I think Mom had plans to go shopping pretty much as soon as I get there,” Jamie chuckled. You knew how much he cared for his mother and how much she loved to spoil him.

“That’s super cool, J.” You tried your best to put on a fake smile, but it just came out awkward. See, you haven’t exactly mentioned the fact that you would be alone for Christmas to Jamie yet, you didn’t want him to feel bad.

“Hey, what’s up with you lately? You haven’t really been yourself the last couple days,” His eyes were wide with concern, “Which is surprising considering you’ve texted me every morning since June with a Christmas countdown.”

You let out a slight breath of amusement, “Nothings up, I’ve just been super tired recently. All of the holiday shopping must be getting to me,” You trailed off, trying your best to make your excuse believable.

“Mhm, I’m sure that’s all. You know you can talk to m-” He was cut off by the loud ringing of his phone. Looking down at the screen, you saw the familiar picture of his mom’s contact appear.

Taking that as your escape, you got off the stool you had been sitting on.

“On that note, I’m gonna leave you to finish packing since your flight leaves in a few hours.”

Jamie shook his head in protest, attempting to say something, but was cut off by your hurried words.

“I’ll see you when you get back from your trip. Merry Christmas, Jamie.” With that you quickly left his apartment, the sound of the door echoing in your wake.

The next day slowly rolled by. Apparently, your Christmas Eve now consisted of watching lame reruns of old movies and eating the food you had cooked for your family.

You heard the timer on the oven go off, signaling that your last batch of cookies were done. Walking over to the kitchen, you slipped on some oven mitts and removed the pan from the scolding environment.

After placing them onto the cooling rack, a knock sounded from your front door.

Confused, you removed the mitts and slowly made your way to the door. You peeked through the peep hole, only to be met with a familiar face. Swiftly, you swung the door open.

“Jamie?”

Jamie’s bright smile warmed your aching heart. He made his way inside your apartment, making a point to sniff the delicious aroma coming off the cookies.

“Mmmmm, something smells yummy” Jamie walked over, grabbing a cookie, only to immediately drop it, “Shit! That’s hot!”

You laughed slightly, “I just took them out, idiot.”

“What with the attitude, missy? It’s Christmas Eve.” He gave you an exasperated look.

“Exactly! Why are you here? I thought you were going home for Christmas?”

Jamie walked up to you, placing his hands on your elbows, “Well I couldn’t leave you here alone.”

You were dumbfounded. How could he have known you were gonna be alone? You never told him that your family bailed.

“I-I’m confused. How did you-” Jamie cut you off.

“I called your family. When I noticed how sad you were, I called them to see if they knew why.” He suddenly appeared shy, as a light blush covered his cheeks, “I’m sorry if that was wrong, it’s just you weren’t talking to me and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Jamie was taken back as you wrapped your arms around his torso. He didn’t hesitate to return the favor, placing a kiss on your head.

You were thankful he couldn’t see your face, or the burning sensation would definitely give your feelings away.

Jamie slightly pulled back, looking down at you, “Now can we eat the cookies?”

You rolled your eyes, “Yes, J. We can eat the cookies.” He beamed, running over to the cooling rack.

Your lonely christmas turned out to be not-so-lonely, after all.

[b00knerd1o1]

All you need to know is shit goes down there (Fanfiction)

The Burns explain the existence of Waffle House to the Bots.

Chief Burns tries to school the quizzical look on his face as he reads the text from his brother again.

Woodrow: I've finally discovered it,  the most dangerous  place on the planet.

Charlie: Should I be worried?

He settles on responding after a couple of Seconds. He shuts the phone off and places it on the table. Chief Burns tunes back into the world around him and tries to catch up on the multiple conversations taking place between his children and the rescue bots as they set up for their family camping trip. His phone buzzes before he can gain enough context to understand anything being said, drawing his attention back to it. He clicks it on and is surprised by what he finds.

Woodrow Willson Attachment: 1 Image

It usually takes Woodrow a good while to respond to text since he tends to hang around areas with little to no reception. Once, a Merry Christmas text from Woodrow hadn’t gotten through until a day before New Year's Eve. Charlie fully opens the phone to see if the photo holds any clues to his brother's quick response or his previous message. Charlie stares at the picture for a second before letting out a quiet chuckle.

“What’s funny?” Kade asks, looking up from the tent he was helping Cody set up.

“Read the last text,” Charlie tells his eldest son as he hands him his phone. Cody cranes his neck to see the screen over his brother's shoulder when he, too, lets out a chortle.

“He’s not wrong. One of the dudes in my class at fire training’s from down south and almost got shot at one.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Dani asks, looking up from the wood pile she had been turning into a fire.

“I, too, would like more context pertaining to that situation,” Chase says. By this point, everyone has dropped what they are doing and is looking at Kade intently.

“Unkle Woodrow texted Dad saying he found the most dangerous place on earth and then sent him a picture of him standing in front of a Waffle House.”

“What does a Waffle House have to do with your friend almost getting shot?” Heatwave asks.

“First of all, he wasn’t my friend; we were rivals. Second, it's a Waffle House!” Kade says.

“You can’t just say its name again and expect me to understand what you mean,” Heatwave responds.

“He almost got shot there because it’s a Waffle House. What else do you want me to say?”

“Gun violence can take place in any setting. What makes the fact that happened in a House of Waffles significant?” Chase says. “Is that a regular occurrence at these places? If so, I think the best course of action would be to remove the Waffle make in the kitchen at the fire station.”

“Waffle House is a chain Restaurant down south,” Graham says. It is known primarily because lots of fights break out there.”

“Why?” Bolder asks.

“It’s open all hours of the day, every day of the year, has low prices, and is often situated in low-income areas where crime tends to be…”

“No one cares about the technical reasons. All you need to know is shit goes down there,” Kade says, interrupting Graham.

“Kade Language,” Charlie says, gesturing to Cody.

“Sorry,” Kade mumbles.

“I’d still like to hear the story of how your friend almost got shot,” Heatwave says, smirking at Kade’s reaction to the word friend.

“He was at a Waffle House.” Kade begins.

“Obviously,” Dani mumbles under her breath.

“I think he said it was in Mississippi, but I could be wrong. There are like two thousand Waffle houses, and it could have happened at any of them.” Kade continues ignoring his sister. “ He saw a rapper he liked and went up to talk to him, and the dude pulled a gun on him. Must have thought he was getting jumped or something. They figured it out in the end, and no one else realized what happened, but it’s still a funny story.”

“If Waffle Houses are known to incite violence, why are they allowed to spread?” Boulder asks.

“I have to Agree. If one ever tries to open on Griffin Rock, we must find a way to halt the process.” Chase says.

“Waffle House isn’t really a Maine restaurant, so I don’t think We’ll need to worry about that,” Graham says. “And anyway, Waffle House doesn’t incite violence. It just tends to be the setting where it takes place, for the reasons I tried to explain earlier before I was inte…”

“They also need them for the Waffle House Index.” Kade buts in.

“The what?” Cody asks, confused.

“It’s a way to tell how heavily a hurricane impacted an area based on the hours the local Waffle house is open,” Dani replies.

“This restaurant can predict storms?” Blades asks hopefully, “Maybe we should get one.”

“It doesn't predict the storms. It just reacts to them.” Chief Burns says.

“Then what makes it different from any other restaurant in that regard?” Boulder asks.

“The director of FEMA created the Waffle House Index. The corporation behind Waffle House works really hard to keep their franchises open even after natural disasters, so sometimes it’s the only restaurant open after a minor hurricane.” Graham says.

“How can a Hurican be minor? It’s a Hurricane!” Blades says, horrified.

“They get one almost every year down south, so the people there have kind of just gotten used to it.” Chief Burns says.

“Lots of southerners joke that they don’t evacuate for a hurricane unless the Waffle House closes,” Kade says.

“What do they do if they don’t evacuate?” Blades asks, horrified.

“Mostly just stay in their house until it passes,” Graham says.

“Unless they're from Florida.” Dani Jokes. “They take their shotguns and shoot the hurricane.”

“That’s Florida-Man for you,” Kade responds. The burns all laugh, but the bots seem confused.

“What’s so special about men from the State of Florida?” Chase asks.

“Ok, so…”

[outhaulscheme]

Hey! If you are willing, could you do prompt 30? Love your blog by the way, your writing is awesome :)

30. Confiding in them

Rubenstein’s is busy the night before Christmas Eve, but not unbearably so. When Jacob invited him, Gregory had expected some of their other friends to tag along, but when he enters the bar, he sees that Jacob is sitting alone at a table, staring down into a glass of water.

Jacob lights up when he spots him, of course. He rushes to get them both drinks and then spends the better part of an hour telling Gregory about the movies he’s watched recently (Everything Everywhere All at Once, Asteroid City, Sorry to Bother You).

“It’s just such a biting satirical commentary on late-stage capitalism,” Jacob says. He takes a long, long drag of his beer, and there’s something in his eyes that makes Gregory suspect that Jacob isn’t really his normal self today but is desperately pretending to be.

“Is there…” Gregory clears his throat, feeling uncomfortable. “Is there something on your mind, Jake?”

“I, ah, well,” Jacob hedges. For a moment, Gregory thinks that Jacob will try to dodge the question, maybe make a clumsy segue into discussing the latest episode of This American Life. Then Jacob sighs, looking more exhausted than Gregory’s ever seen him. “The holidays are not a good time for me,” Jacob says quietly.

Gregory waits for him to continue. When he doesn’t, Gregory says, “Me neither, not since my mom passed.” An offering.

Jacob’s eyes flicker up towards him. He nods, once, then returns his gaze to the wooden surface of the table, tracing patterns in the grain with his finger. “I think it was the pressure to keep up appearances that really got to them,” he says. “My parents. Anyway, I blocked their phone numbers a few years back. They don’t ask me for anything.”

“I’m sorry,” Gregory says, for lack of anything else to say.

Jacob shrugs ruefully. “It is how it is. Uh, sorry about your mom. And sorry for making you come here. I know I’m not the best company right now.”

“She died over twenty years ago, so. Yeah. Also, you didn’t ‘make’ me do anything,” Gregory murmurs. Thank you for sharing this part of your life with me, he thinks, but doesn’t say. When I met you, I never expected we would become this close. And another thought, so inane it surprises him: I like the way you analyze Wes Anderson.

Wordlessly, Jacob holds out his drink, and Gregory clinks it with his own.

“Merry almost-Christmas Eve,” Gregory says.

“Merry the twenty-third of December,” Jacob replies.

They drink, and Jacob does end up commenting on the most recent episode of This American Life. When Jacob finishes extolling the virtues of Ira Glass, Gregory tells him about the propagation process of succulent plants. How, when a leaf is removed from a larger plant, it will grow roots of its own. “The leaf forms what’s called a callus first,” Gregory explains. “It looks like a dry knot. You place it in soil and it grows another plant.”

“Are you trying to make me feel better with a plant metaphor?” Jacob asks.

“Maybe,” Gregory says. Something catches in his throat when Jacob smiles at him. Jacob’s face is flushed from alcohol, and under the warm lights of the bar, he looks beautiful. Gregory imagines a different version of himself, someone more confident, more sure. Someone with the courage to slide an arm around Jacob’s shoulders and ask him out to dinner.

It’s a pleasant thought, and it remains a pleasant thought while the evening wraps up and Gregory pays for Jacob’s Uber. Next time, Gregory thinks, as Jacob hugs him farewell. I’ll tell him next time, for sure.

[kazoosandfannypacks]

"that's christmas to me" cygnet scholar fanfic for @all-fandoms-christmas-festival

summary: when gideon tells hope he got her a very special christmas present this year, she obsesses over what it might be a/n: for those wondering, this fic is standalone from my other cygnet scholar fics, but it does contain references to some of them! also, since you already have to rejigger the timeline just to make cygnet scholar work, i figured i may as well canonize my other favorite rarepair too. i don't go into much detail about it in the fic, but this is set in an au where rumple dies so that gideon can come back as a baby at the end of season 6, and sometime several years later belle remarries and august becomes gideon's stepdad. taglist: @accidental-spice @kanerallels @ouatnextgen @booksteaandtoomuchtv [let me know if you'd like to be added to or removed from the cygnet scholar taglist!] also on ao3!

That's Christmas To Me

 "So, what do you think your parents got you this year?"

 Gideon looked up from his textbook and raised an eyebrow at the girl across the living room floor.

 "Is this a genuine question, or just an attempt to distract yourself from the algebra homework?"

 "Can't it be both?" Hope asked.

 Gideon rolled his eyes. "You know my parents."

 "So I'm guessing more books than you can carry," Hope said, "and another hand-carved ornament for the tree?"

 "Bingo," Gideon nodded, "and it's only fair, since mom's getting a book from me, and my stepdad's getting a new roll of typewriter ink."

 "That sounds horribly practical," Hope laughed.

 "Oh yeah?" Gideon asked, "what did you get your parents?"

 "Come on, Gid," Hope said, "it's a week before Christmas. Do you really think I already did my Christmas shopping?"

 "It's four days until Christmas," Gideon said, "and unless you plan on shopping on Christmas Eve, that's only three shopping days, counting today."

 "I'll think of something," Hope shrugged.

 Gideon shook his head and rolled his eyes, then fixed them steadily on her for half a second, watching the glow of the fireplace illuminate her carefree smile. What would've sent him into a tizzy of a panic attack rolled off her shoulders like it was nothing.

 "How's studying going?"

 Gideon turned to see Hope's mom behind him with a tray in her hands.

 "It'd be better if someone didn't keep getting distracted," Gideon said.

 "Yeah, Gid, what's wrong with you;" Hope mockingly deflected, "we gotta focus!"

 "Oh, sorry, my bad," Gideon joked in return.

 "Maybe some cookies and cocoa will help," her mom said. She set down a tray of sugar cookies and two festive mugs of steaming hot chocolate.

 "Thanks, Mrs. Swan," Gideon said.

 "You're welcome, kid," Emma said, then looked to her daughter, "and, Hope? Stop distracting the poor boy and let him study, okay?"

 "Yes ma'am," Hope sighed and mockingly saluted.

 As her mom left, Gideon picked up one of the mugs set before them, one with a somewhat ridiculous-looking festive moose on it, which he'd mentioned once or twice was his favorite of her family's odd assortment of Christmas mugs. He took a sip and sighed with contentment.

 "What's your mom's secret to such perfect hot chocolate, anyways?"

 "Cinnamon," Hope smiled, as she reached for a present-shaped cookie, overflowing with frosting and decked out in red and green sprinkles.

 "Fabulous," Gideon said.

 They both returned to their work, but only for a few minutes, before Gideon spoke up again. 

"Have you even started Christmas shopping yet?"

 "Now who's distracting who?" Hope asked. "But, of course not. Why, have you finished already?"

 "Yup," he smiled, and after a pause he added, "I even got a special gift for a certain friend of mine this year." He then took another sip of cocoa in hopes that his expression wouldn't give away his surprise.

 "Which friend?" Hope asked.

 "A certain girl in my algebra class," he smiled behind his cocoa mug.

 "Which girl?" Hope's eyes narrowed. 

 "A longtime friend," he said, "a girl who owns an armload of friendship bracelets, and whose mom makes hot chocolate with cinnamon in it, and who I'll be seeing at dinner on Christmas Eve." He took another sip of cocoa, but he didn't get much chance to enjoy it.

 "Charlotte?" Hope asked, her tone a not-so delicate balance of confused and offended, "you got a 'special Christmas gift' for my best friend Charlotte? My aunt Charlotte?"

 In an involuntary response to her startling misunderstanding of his hints, he quickly spewed his sip of cocoa out of his mouth, hoping most of it ended up in the mug, and later hoping her dad wouldn't ask where these brown stains on the living room rug came from.

 "What, no!" Gideon said, stumbling to regain himself, "Hope, I got a special Christmas gift for you."

 "You did?" Hope asked, her mood instantly changed, the usual sparkle returning to her crystal blue eyes, "what did you get me?"

 "Now," Gideon said, "would it really be much of a special gift if it wasn't a surprise?"

 "I can still act surprised," she said, with a hint of a frown and large, blinking eyes which he almost gave into.

 "Sorry," he said, quickly looking back down at his algebra textbook, "you'll have to wait until Christmas Eve."

 "This is cruel and unusual punishment," Hope grumbled.

 "Yup," Gideon smiled.

 "You do know this is gonna make it even harder for me to study now," Hope said.

 "Yup."

 "And I'll never get this homework done if I'm distracted."

 "Yup."

 "And then I'm gonna fail algebra."

 "Yup."

 "And then I'm gonna get held back a year."

 "Yup."

 "And then we won't be in the same class anymore." 

 "Yup."

 "And then you're gonna have to find a new special girl in next year's algebra class to give a special Christmas gift to."

 "Yup."

 "Gideon!"

 He knew he'd carried that bit a bit too far when Hope called him "Gideon" instead of "Gid."

 "Would you like some help with your homework, Hope?"

 "I'd like to know what a certain special boy got me for Christmas."

 "Can't help with that," Gideon said, hoping she couldn't tell his face was red as a Christmas bow at how she'd just called him "special" without meaning it as an insult.

 "Why'd you even go and tell me if it's supposed to be a surprise anyway?" Hope said. "Taking a new form of torture for a test drive?"

 "I have my reasons," he said.

 The reasons, of course, were that he'd never given her a gift before, and if she didn't know he was giving her a gift, she'd have no time to pick out a gift for him. He didn't necessarily need a gift from her, or expect one, but it occurred to him that she might feel bad if he gave her a gift and she came empty-handed, so it was only fair to give her warning.

 And also, a part of him enjoyed watching her obsess over it. It wasn't that he wanted to torment her or stress her out for once in her life, of course, but her attempts to goad the answer out of him were, as predicted, delightful and charming.

 "Now," he continued, "would you like some help with the homework?"

 "Only if you tell me what you got me."

 "Fine," Gideon said, "looks like you'll fail this class and I'll have to give a special gift to some other girl from my math class next year."

 "Alright," Hope said, with an exaggerated eye roll, "I guess if it's the only way."

 They both slid a little closer to each other so he could see her textbook, and then Hope slid closer still.

 As she started explaining how the answer she got was twenty-seven point five percent while the correct answer was two, Gideon glanced behind her at the mountain of gifts under her family's tree. Given that she hadn't begun to shop for her parents, and her brother was still off writing his own adventures, he had a hunch that most of those presents were for her. With all those gifts awaiting her, he suddenly felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. What if his gift didn't live up to her hype? What if it got metaphorically lost in the sea of brightly colored packages that awaited her the morning after? What could one gift, no matter how "special," really mean in comparison to all that?

 He shifted his attention away from the assortment of red and green parcels across the room and the little parcel under his own tree back home, putting them all out of his mind so he could instead focus on how to explain to Hope that in no world could x equal four-hundred and ninety if x minus fifteen equaled twenty-five.

🤍💙🤎🩵🖤

 "It's horrible, Charlotte," Hope complained as she waited in the lunch line.

 "What, that algebra pop quiz?" Charlotte asked, "or Merry Mystery Meat Friday?"

 "Neither," Hope said, "Gideon. He's been absolutely tormenting me."

 "Oh, right," Charlotte said, as the lunch lady poured some gloop on her plate, "it's absolute torture that you're getting an extra Christmas present this year."

 "You don't understand," Hope said, wincing at the smell of the food on her tray, "at first, I kept asking what it was to be dramatic."

 "And you're not being dramatic now?"

 "No, no, I still am," Hope said, "but now I'm being dramatic with purpose. I can't just let him give me a special gift without giving him anything in return."

 "So buy him something?" Charlotte suggested. "You haven't started your Christmas shopping yet anyways."

 "Yes, but what do I get him, Char?" Hope asked as they made their way to their usual table. "What if I show up with a gently used toaster and find out he got me a gently used convertible? Or I get him a PS5 and he got me a pencil sharpener?"

 "Those are vastly overexaggerated scenarios," Charlotte said, then sighed, "but I get the sentiment. Did you tell him that's why you want to know?"

 "That would ruin the surprise."

 "Well, have you tried asking around?" "Syd doesn't even know this one," Hope said, "and if she hasn't heard about it, no one has."

 Before they could continue the conversation, Gideon took a seat next to Hope.

 "So glad to see you're both present, right now," he said, "it sure is special to share such a moment with you guys."

 Hope tried to ignore him in an attempt to hide her frustration.

 Gideon looked at the girls' lunch trays and smiled.

 "What's that?" Gideon asked, "hamburger surprise? Mystery meat?" He pulled a paper bag out of his backpack and continued, "it sure is a gift to have a mom who packs you your own special lunch every day. It's almost like a Christmas present you don't have to wait for."

 "You're a real jerk sometimes," Hope said, "you know that, right?"

 "It's an inherited trait, I'm told." Gideon said, pulling a sandwich out of his bag. 'Some might call it a gift."

 "And if you don't stop it soon," Hope said, "there'll be a special surprise in it for you," and she scooped up a big spoonful of the gloop in front of her and brought it closer to Gideon, "mystery meat on rye, perhaps?"

 "While putting the school's excuse for 'food' on my sandwich is a truly terrifying threat," Gideon said, holding his sandwich away at arms' length until Hope put down her spoon, "that's not much of a special surprise if you tell me about it first."

 "Speaking of 'not much of a special surprise because you tell me about it first,'" Hope changed tactics, leaning toward him with a doe-eyed expression she'd kept on reserve for just such an occasion, "it sure would be nice if a certain boy told me what he got a certain girl for Christmas."

 "I already told you," Gideon said, "I got my mom a book."

 Her doe eyes were wasted on Gideon, who smugly took a bite of his sandwich.

 "I give up," Hope said.

 "Good," Gideon said, "because I'm not telling."

 "Fine," Hope said, then mumbled under her breath, "hope you like your toaster."

 "What?"

 "Nothing."

 "Anyways," Gideon said, "did you guys want to meet up to work on homework later?"

 "I'm busy," Charlotte said, which didn't come as a surprise. She'd been too busy to do homework with them a lot recently.

 "I've got Christmas shopping to do this afternoon," Hope said.

 "Oh, starting early, are we?" Gideon asked.

 "I'll have to start early if I've got an extra gift to get this year," Hope said.

 "An extra gift for whom?"

 "No one special," she quickly recovered.

 "Well," he said, "maybe we could do homework afterwards?"

 "Sure, but not at my house." Hope said. "Mom and dad are working, so I can't have friends over."

 This was true, but it was also an excuse. If they studied at his house, she might have the chance to do a little snooping and figure out what this mystery gift was.

 "I told my mom I'd help her at the library this afternoon," Gideon said, "maybe we could study there?"

 Dang it.

 "Sounds great," Hope lied.

🤍💙🤎🩵🖤

 "You know the real reason we met at the library?" Gideon asked as they sat down in a side room of the library. 

 "Because you know if we're at your house I'll try to sneak a peek at my Christmas present?"

 "You know, the thought hadn't even crossed my mind," Gideon smiled, "but I also thought the library would help minimize distractions."

 "Oh, sure," Hope said.

 His plan was secretly foiled, though, by Hope's own mind. She brought plenty of distractions with her. Not only did she have the usual to distract herself with, she had plenty of other things to think about, like "what could he have gotten me?" and "I hope what I got him is good enough," and eventually, "why did he even get me a special gift this year anyways?" and on occasion before she could stop herself, "Gideon looks especially nice today." 

 Sure, he didn't look much different than normal. He wore his trademark style of a flannel over a t-shirt with a corny slogan (though in place of a science pun, today's read "MERRY CHRISTMOOSE" over an image of the stupidest moose Hope had ever seen.) Gideon's deep golden hair was parted the same way it always was. His smile was the same and his laugh was the same and his eyes bore the same combination of intelligence and innocence that always made Hope catch her breath when they fixed themselves too hard on her. But today, she noticed it all at once, and it only added to her usual level of distraction.

 They'd hardly been working for half an hour when another distraction came along, this time in the form of Gideon's mother.

 "How's it going in here?" Belle asked, looking over her son's shoulder at the senseless arrangement of letters and numbers and symbols.

 "About as good as always," Hope said.

 "Almost, anyways," Gideon said.

 "Almost?" Belle asked. "Any particular reason why that is?"

 "You know," Gideon said, "now that you mention it, when we study at Hope's house, her mom always has cookies for us."

 "Does she now?"

 "Yes ma'am," Hope said, catching Gideon's drift and quick to help him out, "she says cookies are a sort of brain food. If they weren't, dad wouldn't let us keep them around the house."

 "I see," Belle said, "well, I'm not about to spoil your supper, but how about I bring you guys some hot cocoa instead?"

 "Close enough," Gideon shrugged.

 "I'll be right back," his mom ruffled his hair.

 As a dangerous Christmas miracle, Hope got an idea.

 "Can I help you, Mrs. Booth?" Hope asked.

 "I'd like that very much," Belle said.

 "I can help too," Gideon said, starting to get up himself.

 "We got it, don't worry," Hope quickly got up. She placed a hand on his arm and said, "we'll be right back."

 "Okay," Gideon said, with that calculating look on his face he often got when he was trying to get to the bottom of one of Hope's brilliant ideas.

 But as it stood, he hadn't caught onto this one, because he made no attempt to thwart her time with his mom.

 "I'm glad to see you two getting along so well," Belle said, as she and Hope found themselves waiting for the library's Keurig to heat up. 

 "Yeah?" Hope said, already pleased at how quickly she could shift this conversation to suit her needs. "Does he talk about me much?"

 "A bit," Belle smiled.

 "What kind of stuff does he say?"

 "Well," Belle said, "just a few things here and there. A few things I can't say."

 "Does one of them have to do with a special surprise Christmas present?"

 "Maybe," Belle said, with a wink and a lower tone of secrecy as she loaded a hot chocolate K-cup into the coffee machine.

 "What is it?" Hope whispered.

 "I can't say," Belle responded.

 "Well, you're no help." Hope grumbled.

 "Is there," Belle paused, "a special reason you can't just wait until Sunday night to find out?"

 Hope nodded.

 "Well, what is it?" Belle asked, as she changed out the used hot chocolate pod for a new one.

 "Can you keep a secret?"

 Belle turned away from exchanging the styrofoam cups in her hands to give her a knowing glance, one she'd clearly been the one to pass down to her son.

 "I got him a Christmas present too," Hope whispered, "and I wanna make sure it's not a toaster or a playstation."

 "A toaster?"

 "It's a metaphor." She said. "Long story. I just don't want to give him something too big, or too small, or too stupid."

 "I see," Belle nodded, "Well, I'm not about to breach my son's privacy, but I won't breach yours either. If you tell me what you got him, I'll tell you if yours is too much or too little."

 "You'd really do that for me?" Hope asked.

 "Of course." Belle said, taking both cups of cocoa in her hands.

 Hope motioned for Belle to come closer, then whispered in her ear.

 Belle smiled.

 "Hope," Belle said, "I don't think that gift will be too big or too small at all. It sounds perfect."

 "Really?" Hope asked, feeling a massive weight of anxiety float away in a mere moment.

 "Yup. Now, you take these," she handed Hope both cups, "and, wait just a second."

 Belle took a bottle of syrup from the counter, clearly meant for the coffee, but apparently multi-purpose.

 "French vanilla?" Hope asked.

 "Your mother has her way of dressing up hot cocoa," Belle said, pouring a squirt of syrup into each cup, "and I have mine."

 "I'll have to remember that," Hope nodded, "And, thanks. Thanks for, well, everything."

 "Better get back to your studies," Belle winked.

 Hope took a sip of her cup of cocoa on the way back to their table. It was perfect.

🤍💙🤎🩵🖤

 "So, Gideon," Hope said, as they sat down together for their Christmas Eve dinner, "are you gonna tell me what you got me for Christmas yet?"

 "You'll find out soon enough," he smiled, "and, uh, did you end up getting that 'extra gift for no one special' yet?"

 "Maybe," Hope winked.

 "Oh, how adorable," Charlotte said, taking a seat in between Hope and CJ.

 Gideon's mom soon filled the seat next to him, followed by his stepdad, then Hope's parents, then Charlotte and CJ's, and finally the Mayor and her sister, with her daughter, Robin, next to CJ.

 Gideon tried his best to enjoy the ham and scalloped potatoes set before him, though his mind was on what would happen afterwards, the real meat and potatoes of the evening for him: when those gathered would start exchanging gifts, followed by singing carols, and the space in between those traditions when he'd find an excuse pull Hope aside and give her her gift. Sure, he could just give it to her now, or when everyone else gave gifts, but this one was different, special. It was a gift from him to her, simple as that, and it didn't need anyone else's attention.

 After the meal, as the family gathered around the tree to open presents, Gideon pantomimed joy as he thanked Mrs. Nolan for the book she gave him that he already had two copies of, and he was polite and respectful and didn't lie too much as he told the Mills sisters how much he liked the sweatervest they'd given him.

 Of course, there were genuine joys too, as there often are at Christmas. The younger generation oohed and awed as they each unwrapped a set of dice sent from Hope's brother in the Enchanted Forest. The house filled with laughter as the mayor gave Hope's grandma the annual gag gift of a perfect red apple. There was a type of mischievous joy passed between both parties as Hope unwrapped a present and stuck the bow that it'd been adorned with squarely on Gideon's forehead.

 And still, Gideon's focus was on the one gift that still had yet to be given. After all the packages beneath the tree had been unwrapped, Gideon excused himself, and quietly made his way to the front room of the house, where his jacket hung on a hook by the door.

 "Trying to make an escape before you can give me the elusive special Christmas present?"

 He turned and saw Hope standing in the doorway behind him, the lights of the merry festivities behind them reflecting off the sparkles on her red velvet dress.

 "Not at all," he said, as he slipped his jacket on and put his hands into the perfectly oversized pockets. "I just had to come grab a special gift for a special friend of mine."

 "Oh?" Hope asked, "she must be something pretty special if you had to leave all that excitement just to give her a gift."

 "Excitement?" Gideon asked. "Well then, I guess I better head back in now then. I'd hate to miss whatever festivities are happening without us."

 Hope took a step in front of him, blocking his path. "We can watch my dad and grandpa sing a rousing duet of All I Want For Christmas is You anytime." 

 "Can we really, though?" Gideon asked, sidestepping past her. She mirrored his step.

 "Charlotte's recording it," Hope said, "now, what'd you get me?"

 He sighed. As much as he loved the look on her face as she awaited his gift, he couldn't keep this up for too much longer, not without giving such a small gift too much hype and a huge letdown.

 "Fine," he said, pulling a wrapped square box, slightly larger than the palm of his hand, out of his pocket.

 "Oooh!" Hope said. She reached for it, but he held it up in the air above their heads.

 "What's the magic word?" He asked.

 "Um," Hope said, jumping up to try and reach it, "if you don't give it to me now I'll kick you?"

 Her idle threats didn't scare him anymore.

 "How about please?"

 Hope rolled her eyes, but they stopped halfway, the spark in her eyes frozen as they refracted onto his.

 "Please?" she asked, softly, and she almost seemed genuine rather than annoyed. He nodded and handed the gift to her without a word or a breath left in his mouth, acted upon by something almost beside himself, outside of himself, larger than himself.

 She tore the paper off the package with a careful excitement, and opened the box inside.

 "A charm bracelet," she whispered.

 "I hope you like it." He said, pointing to each charm on the bracelet in the box. "I picked out the charms myself. There's an angel for the snow angels we used to make in the backyard, and a music note for the caroling karaoke every year."

 "Especially the time we turned Silent Night into, well, the opposite of that," Hope added.

 "Exactly." Gideon smiled, "and the reindeer's for that time we tried to wait up to catch Santa Claus."

 "Hey, that snare trap worked perfectly!" Hope defended.

 "A little too perfectly."

 "Yeah," Hope laughed, "he was so mad at us."

 "And then we got coal in our stockings for the next three years," Gideon said, with a chuckle.

 Hope looked back down at the bracelet in her hand.

 "Is the candle for the time you burned the gingerbread cookies?" Hope asked.

 "Actually, the fireplace is," Gideon said, "The candle's for the time you set your hair on fire."

 "I'd almost forgotten that one," Hope said. "And what's the present for?"

 "For this," Gideon said, taking the box from her hand, "the first present I ever gave you that I bought instead of my parents."

 "I love it" Hope shook her head with an amazed disbelief. "Can you help me put it on?"

 "Sure," he said. He took the bracelet out of the box, and handed the box back to her. He then clasped the bracelet around her wrist.

 "How did you even come up with all these?" Hope asked.

 "Those are all my favorite Christmas memories, Hope. When I think of a Merry Christmas," and his hand slid from her wrist to her hand, and his tone lowered, and he continued, "I think of you."

 He watched her expression closely for any sign of discomfort, but instead saw a smile, and the red of her cheeks brought out by the red of her dress.

 "I have something for you too," Hope said, letting go of his hand so she could dig through her purse.

 "For me?" Gideon asked.

 "Of course," Hope said, "you didn't think I'd show up empty handed, did you?"

 "The thought had crossed my mind," he said.

 "Well, it was a silly thought," Hope said. "Here."

 She pulled a wrapped gift out of her bag that was only a little bigger than the box he'd given her. He opened it to reveal a small leather journal.

 "It's very nice," he said, unsure if his gift seemed too much in comparison.

 "Open it up, stupid," she said with a smile.

 He opened the notebook to the first page, which had a handwritten note.

 "Hey, Gid!

 I didn't know what to get you for Christmas, but I saw this notebook and thought it was missing something. Don't worry, I fixed it for ya.

 -HSJ"

 "What does that mean?" he asked.

 "Turn the page," she said.

 He turned the page to see a picture of them at Christmas when they were kids, pouring frosting that was meant for a gingerbread house directly into their mouths. Next to it was the recipe for gingerbread, with the temperature to set the oven to circled with red glitter ink multiple times.

 He turned to the next page: a drawing of a massive snow fort with four tiny stick figures on top. "EXPECTATION:" some writing above it said, and the facing page said "REALITY:" and featured a photo of them as kids, cramming next to Charlotte and CJ inside a circular wall of snow not even six inches tall.

 A few pages further, he found a drawing of his favorite mug with the moose on it, and two recipes for hot chocolate: Mrs. Swan style and Mrs. Booth style.

 "What's all this about anyways?" Gideon asked.

 "You're always filling your brain with all that useless school junk," Hope said, "algebra, Shakespeare, Washington, it's exhausting. I don't wanna see that pretty little head of yours get so full of numbers and names and dates that you forget what really matters."

 "Like what?" Gideon asked, with a smile.

 "Stupid intangibles like family and friendship and love and all that crap," Hope said, "I know, it's no charm bracelet, but…."

 "It's perfect," Gideon said.

 "Really?" Hope asked.

 "Really." Gideon said. "Of all the things I want to remember, you're the most important one."

 "Thanks," Hope said, that red flush creeping again along her cheek, "now, we'd better get back to the rest of the party before our dads start wondering what's taking us so long."

 "Yeah," Gideon said.

 But, apparently, they were too late.

 "Well, well," Gideon and Hope both froze as they heard his stepdad's voice across the room.

 He turned to see August smiling and calling to the other guests.

 "Belle, Killian, Emma," August called, "it looks like someone's under the mistletoe."

 "Huh, wonder who that could be," Gideon thought, before he noticed the guilty look on Hope's face. She looked up at the ceiling, and his eyes followed her gaze.

 Hanging above them like Damacles' sword was a festive assemblage of green leaves and holly berries, tied together with a bow, a scarlet letter that spelled trouble.

 "I'm sorry," Gideon said, "honest, I didn't realize it was there."

 "I know you didn't," Hope said, with an eye roll.

 Despite how fast his heart was suddenly beating, time seemed to hold still. He noticed several things very clearly— the looks on the faces of the parents gathered around them, ranging from the smile of his mom to the deathly glare of her dad. He noticed the way her eyes reflected the fairy lights that surrounded them, and the hint of a smile under her reddening cheeks. He noticed how sweaty his palms suddenly were, and he regretted wearing such a warm sweater, and his jacket as well now, and it dawned on him all at once that he'd never kissed a girl before, and that the number of people watching them had gone from zero to one to four to eleven in seconds, and that most of them probably expected him to kiss her, and that at least one of them would probably be very upset at him if he did.

 He also knew that, as far as he knew, Hope had probably never kissed anyone, either, and that if she wanted him to be her first kiss, that was great— but on her own terms. And if she didn't, well, she couldn't get mad at him for this.

 He bent down ever so slightly, leaned closer to her, then turned his head and planted his lips on her cheek, the cheek that wasn't as visible to their uninvited audience, but that, although his eyes were closed, he could tell had reddened by how it warmed at the touch of his kiss.

 He then pulled away from her, and they stood apart, merely looking at each other with a smile, and a nod to indicate there was no more left that needed to be done. This was met with the rest of the gathering shuffling back to their places, a few with a sigh, though Captain Jones with a smile that made Gideon fear much less for his life.

 "Hey, Gid," Hope said, as they walked back to the party, trailing along behind the rest of the group.

 "Yeah?"

 She slid her hand into his, and he looked down at her.

 "Think you can get me a mistletoe charm for the bracelet?"

 "I think so," Gideon said.

 "Thanks," Hope smiled, and stepped up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek, this one spurred on not by mistletoe or tradition or expectation of others, but simply by merit of the spirit of Christmas that hung in the air, and of the love carried between two friends who were well on their way to becoming so much more.

[training4theapocalypse]

Finders Keepers Ch 17. (Cormac McLaggen x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: SMUT, PIV, a little bit rough but, like, in a romantic way, author once again refusing to acknowledge she has a hand covering mouth during sex kink

Summary: At Seafarer's Beacon you feel stuck in limbo. McLaggen is determined to do something to give you purpose again.

A/N: I'm sorry I teased a little subby moment with McLaggen at the end of the last chapter but this chapter took so many rewrites because it turns out I don't have a dominant bone in my body so you'll need to pretend it happened off-screen. Anyway...

Masterlist

Tag list: @countlambula, @ratsys, @aweidlich, @navs-bhat, @stainedpomegranatelips, @chiaraanatra, @xxvelvetxxxx, @ohnoitsrosie, @dracosisteer, @daisydark, @intense-sneezing, @lipstickandloveletters, @ichorai, @marmie-noir, @lolitstiana, @evabellasworld, @ivebeentrashsince2001, @xyzstar, (let me know if you want removed at any point btw!)

Chapter 17: Purpose

You spot a tiny white spatter on the t-shirt you’re wearing as you finish brushing your teeth before bed in the bathroom. It’s clean. Or at least was until your spearmint toothpaste marked it. Freshly laundered so it doesn’t smell like him in the way you’d prefer. The shoulders are too broad. The seams hang loosely around your arms. But the old Gryffindor Qudditch training top fits you like you’re wearing a piece of his soul.

“I’ve got toothpaste on your top,” you remark absently to McLaggen next door in the bedroom. 

It’s not like you’ve said something profound but when McLaggen doesn’t reply it sticks out like a splinter. You often bat snippets of unremarkable things to each other, like two beaters at bludger practice. If he finds something useful from a book from his uncle’s collection, he just reads it aloud and says “I should remember that,” instead of writing it down. As if imprinting the words on you means he’ll commit it to memory. 

But when he doesn’t fire something back, you open the bathroom door. He’s sitting shirtless in his plaid pyjama bottoms. Even though it’s the coldest Christmas Eve that you ever remember experiencing, your bedroom at the top of the lighthouse is warm. Heat from the hearth in the kitchen on the bottom floor rises the whole way through Seafarers Beacon, making everything feel warm and cosy. You tilt your head, waiting for him to lower the copy of this morning’s Daily Prophet but he doesn’t notice you standing in the doorway - he’s holding it so high that it’s covering his face.

“Are you still reading that?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

You glance at the white, frosty landscape outside the window as you wander over and climb into bed beside him, reading over his shoulder. The development he’s reading about isn’t significant - a short paragraph assuring the wizarding community that repairs to Azkaban are ongoing - but there’s a tiny quote from his dad that he read out to you this morning. And he’s been reading and re-reading all day, ever since his eyes first landed on it on the kitchen table while the rest of you were talking and buttering toast.

“I’m sorry you can’t see your mum and dad tomorrow.”

It’s not that you’ve been having an unpleasant time at Seafarer’s Beacon. But Christmas here has felt like a strained effort to replicate Christmas at home, or even, to some extent, Christmas at Hogwarts. Marietta has spent the past few days decorating the kitchen at the bottom landing of the lighthouse. Paper snowflakes whirl around the empty space in the middle of the empty space between the staircase spiralling around the outer walls and up the seven floors. 

“It’s fine,” McLaggen says and clears his throat. “I’m okay.”

“It’s not fine.” You rest your hand on his arm and he lets the Daily Prophet fall to his lap, still staring at the small paragraph with his dad’s words. “I wish I could see my mum and dad too - it’s okay for us to be sad about it.”

He nods. “I know - I miss them. Especially after reading about Dad today. But this time of year makes me… I - I dunno. It’s complicated. I still haven’t really forgiven him for handing you over.”

“Cormac -” you hesitate. “- your dad… he did what he had to do. I forgive him for choosing to save you and your family over me - someone who’s practically a stranger. I mean, if I was in his position…?”

He presses his palms hard into his eyes. Usually so bright and green, tonight they’re bloodshot. “You’d really make a choice like that?”

“All I know is that right now, I’d do whatever it takes to keep us safe.”

“All of us,” he affirms, sitting up properly.

“Well… yes -” You say slowly. “But if it comes to it, what I meant was you and I.”

“Don’t talk like that. We’re all in this together.”

“Cormac, you had to choose between me and Eddie when you had to get one of us out of Azkaban -”

“That was different.”

“Every single time we’re faced with a difficult decision it’s different. It was different for you. Different for your dad. We’re in the middle of a war and that’s how war is.”

McLaggen tosses the newspaper aside. “I just wish we could do something. Something to win the war. I feel useless stuck in here.”

“I don’t think there is.” 

Because you’ve already racked your brains. You and McLaggen have had this conversation several times already.

Both breakouts from Azkaban have rendered you almost completely isolated from the outside world. Now that Marietta and McLaggen are both assumed kidnapped, your insider knowledge of the Ministry has been shut off. With Krum and Davies here, you’ve got no idea what’s happening internationally. The only real source of information you have that isn’t Ministry propaganda is Potterwatch, and aside from reporting deaths and other swathes of bad news, they don’t seem to have much more information than you do holed up here.

“What about the snatchers they mentioned on Potterwatch? Couldn’t we go after them?” he asks.

“And what are we supposed to do with them? We can’t hand them in to the aurors. It’s not like they’re doing anything illegally - this is all Ministry sanctioned,” you remind him.

“I was more thinking along the lines of teaching them a lesson.”

“What? Like, kill them?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Nah just scare them - rough them up a little.”

“Cormac,  we’re not gonna start dealing out vigilante justice. And especially not when half of us are Undesirables. It could go seriously wrong.” You tilt your head, feeling slightly worried that being so cooped up, being away from his parents and the rest of the outside world is making him want to behave recklessly. “And you’re supposed to be kidnapped, remember? If you’re seen outside again people will get suspicious. All we can do is wait,” you say softly, touching your lips against his bare shoulder. “Wait here and stay safe.” 

He shakes his head. “We should be training. Like when Potter was in charge of Dumbledore’s Army. Duelling. Practising defensive spells. If we’re prepared then maybe, just maybe, none of us will have to make a difficult choice about who to save.” 

You nod and rest your head on your white down pillow, looking at him as you lie on your side. “Let’s start the day after tomorrow. First thing on Boxing Day.” 

“Yeah?” He cocks an eyebrow as if he was worried you’d think it was another bad idea. 

“Yeah, it’ll give us something useful to do - I’m kind of sick of doing nothing.” You sigh. “Being here has made me realise how slowly time passes without Quidditch… I wish there was enough room to fly properly.”

Cormac rests his head on the pillow too, lying on his back and looking up at the curved, coral ceiling thoughtfully. His brow is slightly furrowed in concentration. 

“I could try to work out how to extend the perimeter of the Fidelius Charm?”

“You can do that?” You blink. Your heart soars at the idea that you might be able to feel the wind in your hair again.

“I mean, it definitely won’t be easy but - yeah, I think so. I’ll get it sorted if it’d make you happy. Who knows how long this war will last? You might as well have someplace to fly.”

God, he’s so sweet. 

You don’t say anything else. You don’t need to. Instead you curl into the crook of his arm and you both drift off. You, wrapped in his arms as your dreams take you to the sky once more. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Training breathes new life into Seafarer’s Beacon. Everyone is invigorated by the opportunity to do something that isn’t just lounging around, existing. You’re Dumbledore’s Army, after all. You’re part of the resistance.

McLaggen and Eddie spend days working out how to do an extremely complex piece of magic to extend the perimeter of the Fideleus charm so you have space to fly. You think you could cry when you get onto your broom and fly properly for the first time since your mission to Azkaban. 

Marietta gets to work transfiguring a scarecrow into a working duelling dummy and creating so many duplicates you feel like you’re facing a small army when you step into the garden one spring afternoon.

Cho scours the Daily Prophet - her curious intellect and keen eye for detail help her read between the lines to make sense of what’s really happening. She sends coded letters with her theories to Lee Jordan so he can confirm them with his contacts and inform Potterwatch listeners. You all huddle around the radio every other night and you squeeze her hand when Lee’s reporting follows her leads.

Katie and Leanne find that there’s more than just fiction in McLaggen’s uncle’s old bookcase and find an extensive collection of defensive spells and healing potions that can be used in combat. They forage herbs in the lighthouse’s magical garden and order rarer potion ingredients by owl post.

You, Krum and Davies, put everyone through flying drills until even Marietta is confident on a broom. Everyone practises casting curses while flying - it’s much harder to keep balance than it looks. When Krum finds out just how talented a Seeker Cho is, you can practically see little hearts forming in his eyes. When you toss an apple her way one day in the kitchen and she catches it one-handed without even looking, you think Krum might propose to her then and there. 

Even as the months slip by, the Ministry is taking your threat about breaking into Azkaban again seriously. There have been no more Muggleborns sent to prison. And you tell yourself that as long as you’re here, and the Ministry knows you’ll retaliate, you’re doing something to help win this war.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“See anything?” asks McLaggen, one late May evening as the two of you finish clearing up the garden after duelling practice. You can hear the others in the kitchen having final cups of tea before bed except for Cho who had to run upstairs to wash her hair after you sent such a powerful disarming spell your way that she’d ended up flat on her back in the rather muddy vegetable patch.

“I think something might have cracked a window pane on the greenhouse?” You suggest as you wave your wand over a heavily battered and burned duelling dummy. “Reparo!”

“On it,” says McLaggen, wandering over to assess the damage. “...I can’t see anything” He calls from behind the greenhouse. 

“I definitely heard something smash,” you say, frowning at a slightly squashed courgette in the vegetable patch and making a mental note to cast a protective charm over them next time you’re practising in the garden. “I hope it’s not one of the lighthouse windows.”

You follow the garden path around past the greenhouse to find McLaggen standing at the other side of Seafarer’s Beacon, pointing his wand at a window. Beautiful, warm light cascades across his handsome face. It’s late evening but the sun still hasn’t set. 

“Found it. It was a window. Easily fixed though,” he says, lowering his wand and turning to face you. “You’re getting much better at duelling by the way. That last one with Cho was pretty evenly matched.”

“I’m just glad I’m not the worst anymore. I think I’m better than Marietta now. Maybe Eddie too - on a good day.”

“Not everything has to be a competition,” laughs McLaggen before kissing the top of your head and pulling you into his chest.

“That’s easy for you to say when you’re winning. You’re the best at duelling,” you grumble, although you’re not jealous. The thought is a comforting one, you think as you close your eyes and inhale his dark, spicy scent.

“No, I think Krum is probably the best,” says McLaggen thoughtfully.

You look up at him. “Y’know when I first met you, I don’t think you’d ever have admitted someone was better than you at something,” you tease.

He chuckles softly. The garden hums with the sounds of nature as McLaggen holds you to his chest and stares out at the amber sky as the sun sets over the sea, interrupted only by the distant echo of laughter from the kitchen from inside - the unmistakable noises of the others joking together before they retire to bed. 

“Thank you for doing all this,” you tell him. Just being on a broom has - ironically - grounded you. It’s made everything feel alright again. And now that you’re spending every day outside in the fresh air and every night insight surrounded by your new found family, the shadows of Azkaban have long left your face. 

“It wasn’t just me. Eddie helped with the Fidelius Charm -”

“Not just the Fidelius Charm. For giving us all purpose again. And somewhere safe to stay.” 

“It’s my Uncle’s house -”

"You know -" you cut across him, " - when you volunteered to apparate home with Mary Cattermole, I was furious with you because I was scared." Your eyes meet his green ones, finding the warmth and strength that’s become so familiar. "But I should have expected it from you. You always go way beyond what any ordinary person would do in that sort of situation. And I mean, for goodness sake, who else out there can say their boyfriend got them out of Azkaban?"

McLaggen exhales in an embarrassed sort of way and turns his head back from the window. “It’s not - I mean when you say it like that it sounds much more impressive than it is. I’m just doing what anyone else would do. ”

"Most people would save their own skin.” You put your hand directly above his heart, feeling it beating through his chest. "That fact we’re all still alive isn’t because of this lighthouse. It's because of who you are,” you tell him fiercely.

You look up at him, bathed in the warm light from the sun against the backdrop of the whitewashed lighthouse. He looks down at you with an oddly reminiscent look on his face.

“You’re more like yourself again.”

You nod. The past few months have made you feel like you’re the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain again. You love getting to fly with Cho and Davies again. It’s just like old times. But you never dreamed you’d be flying with Viktor Krum, never mind have him actually take direction from you when you yell mid-air about flying formations for combat. 

Cormac curls a finger under your chin and kisses you. You link your arms around his neck, pulling yourself close to him. Everything slots together perfectly. Well, almost perfectly - you need to stand on your tiptoes but to you, that just makes him more perfect. Like he’s your missing piece of a puzzle.

He parts his lips and your tongue finds his. Your fingers become entwined in Cormac’s messy curls as you press your hips into his. The world outside the Fidelius Charm might be chaotic, fraught with fear and devastation and death but in this pretty, seaside garden where the evening light warms your back as you kiss Cormac, you have the sanctuary of each other. 

Cormac’s large hands roam the curve of your waist under your t-shirt and you feel callouses on his palms and fingertips from so much flying and duelling. And you know he believes if you all train enough none of you will ever fall in the war. He trains so hard because he thinks that if he does when the time comes, he can protect everyone. Save everyone. 

And you hope beyond hope that you’ll never need to put your training to use. But you’ve been listening to Potterwatch every night. The tone has been subtly shifting since your giggled huddling and listening back before Christmas. You know things are getting worse out there. Something in the air tells you that you’re going to have to act - and soon. 

But not right now.

Right now all you want to think about is each other.

“You know, you don’t have to be so selfless all the time,” you say, unfastening Cormac’s belt and getting to your knees on the grass in front of him. Fuck, he looks even taller like this. 

He wastes no time helping you and pulls his cock out from his boxers. You blink up at him, taking a shuddering breath when you see him - already thick and hard and ready for you. Even after all this time together, your stomach flips when you’re reminded that his cock is just as beautiful as he is. You take him in your hands and place tiny kisses along the underside of his length.

“You can let me do things too,” you whisper, his tip just brushing your lips as you breathe the words. Cormac leans his head back against the curved exterior wall. 

You can’t take your eyes off him as you slowly wrap your lips around his head and circle it with your warm, hot tongue. The light makes every hair visible on the small strip of skin on his lower abdomen, shining and golden. The tiny freckles on his arms are getting darker now the early summer sun has been cascading down on you while you’ve been training in the garden.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he tells you, threading his hands through your hair. He’s messing it up but the ache between your legs is pulsing too pleasantly for you to care. It would almost be distracting if you weren’t so preoccupied with sucking and swirling your tongue around him. “My pretty girl.”

You stare up at him with wide eyes as he swallows thickly and leans his head back. His adam’s apple is visible as he swallows back a steadying breath. Just seeing him enjoying the feel of your hot, wet mouth makes you moan around him. The vibrations make his eyes snap back towards you just in time for him to watch you swallow his entire length down your throat. His grip tightens in your hair when he bottoms out and lets out a groan.

You don’t hold back. You press your head down as much as you can, blocking your own airways and feeling saliva dripping down your chin as his cock fills your mouth up. Cormac gently pulls back, letting you briefly take a gulp of air but the way you eagerly take him again makes him pant harder, his shoulders rising and falling with his breathing as you work your mouth. 

“Fuck, let me fuck you.” You detach from him with a gasp and shake your head, blinking back tears. His grip tightens. “I don’t want to cum. Not yet.”

“Be selfish for once. Finish here. Please,” you say through laboured pants as you jerk him off in your hand and present your tongue. You go to take him in your mouth again but he grabs your upper arm.

“I am being selfish.” Cormac hoists you to your feet. Before you know it, you’re being spun around and pressed up against the wall. You feel the bumpy whitewash paint under your palms when he whispers in your ear from behind. “You think I want to fuck you as a favour to you or something?”

His hands unbutton your jeans and he pulls them and your underwear down over your ass. You’re able to turn your head just enough to see him casting his eyes over your body with that appraising smirk that makes you fold every fucking time you see it. It’s been over a year and a half since that stupidly gorgeous dimpled smile made you feel butterflies in a way you hadn’t expected. Just that look is still enough to make you feel like you’ve been knocked off your broom.

And to him, the way you look right this second - dishevelled and pouting because you’re not getting your own way - is equally captivating. Everyone thinks you’re the loud, domineering one in the relationship and that it’s him who goes along with whatever you say. But Cormac doesn’t care what they think because he knows the truth of it. Even when you take the reins, climbing on top of him or setting the pace, all it takes is a single whispered word from him, or his hand gently guiding you at your lower back that keeps your dynamic exactly how he likes it. 

And here you are once again, as malleable as if he’s used a softening charm on you. 

Before you realise what’s happening Cormac’s tongue sucks your earlobe as he presses your body between his and the wall. You open your mouth to argue but instead take a sharp inhale when he slaps your ass, followed quickly by his hands groping and massaging all over your body - going from squeezing your backside to groping your tits and back again like he doesn’t have enough hands to touch you everywhere he wants to at once.

“I - I wanted to make you cum with my mouth,” you complain as he pushes your bra up to pinch your nipple between two fingers but you don’t protest any further - you’re too turned on to care. From how flush he’s pressed against you, you can feel his hard cock pressed up against your backside, wet with your saliva and his precum. 

You’d think after a hard day of training, Cormac would be exhausted - that he’d have no testosterone left in his body. But you know from experience over the past few months that this isn’t the case. You’re not sure whether it’s seeing you fight that turns him on or if his ego is slightly bruised from having Krum as fierce duelling competition - either way, he comes to bed most evenings murmuring sweet things in your ear and slipping his Gryffindor training tshirt off our your body before you’ve barely had a chance to wear it.

This evening is only different because he can’t wait until you’re back in your bedroom to have you. He kisses your neck and draws the tips of his fingers along your slit, dragging your wetness over your clit. 

“I couldn’t let that happen. Not when all I can think about is how wet this cunt is for me,”

You let out a low, shaky breath. Fuck, you love it when he gets in this mood. He’s so filthy. Talking to you like how you sort of expected he would when you first met him. Before you found out how sweet and soft he is. 

Usually.

Fuck.

Your legs twitch involuntarily when Cormac drags the pad of his middle finger across your clit and dips it through your sopping-wet folds. You can’t move much but you can’t stop your hips from grinding with his fingers, chasing the feeling of him toying with you. 

“Yes. Ah fuck - yes,” you squeal as he draws the words from you with his touch.

“Shh, shh, shh…” He soothes, tutting gently. He pulls his wet fingers back over your clit, swirling in circles around the throbbing clutch of nerves. “The others are through the wall. You need to be quiet.”

As if testing you, his wet strokes over your clit pick up pace - his calloused fingers feel so deliciously wet and rough all at once. You whine pathetically. 

“Can’t you - oh, god, can’t you cast a sound-dampening charm?” you whimper, your fingers searching for something to grip. Your palms just claw helplessly against the surface of the exterior wall as his chest presses into your back. 

“I don’t think so. I think you need to show me you can be good.”

You squirm but there’s nowhere you can move while you’re pressed between him and the wall. “I will. I’ll do whatever you say,” you pant. The pads of Cormac’s fingers continue pressing circles the pressure building inside you as your walls clamp around nothing. You need him - you need his fingers, his cock - fuck, anything inside you. “Just fuck me. Please, Cormac.”

You know the drill. You know he loves hearing his name. Having you beg for his cock. And you’re running out of time - your twitching and convulsing is picking up pace. “Q-q-quick, please, I want to cum on your cock.”

Cormac’s hands leave your body so he can take his cock and tease you between your folds. You feel the tip of his cock at your entrance and whine. Fuck, you need to cum. You bring your hand between your legs to start rubbing yourself in his absence but he moves your hand out of the way.

“Keep your hands where they were.”

You place your palms flat against the wall, splaying your fingers, and feel your knees buckle when Cormac sheathes himself into you with one forceful roll of his hips. 

He curls one arm around your chest and the other slips down your body to play with your clit as he jerks his hips up, each thrust sends his hips smacking against your skin.

The burning ache in your pelvis crackles and fizzes inside you while Cormac fucks you. Your hands scrabble against the wall and you feel chalky, white paint crumbling under your fingernails as the walls of your cunt spasm, grateful for Cormac’s long, thick cock to grip onto.

“Fuckfuckfuck-” The curse tumbles from your lips. You’re so boxed in that your cheek presses against the rough surface of the wall. All you can do is close your eyes and fucking take the way that Cormac is brutally slamming himself into your tight heat while his hand dances perfect, rhythmic circles over your clit. 

You seize up and cry out and the arm that Cormac had wrapped around your chest claps over your mouth, pulling your head back and dampening your wailing. “Let it all out for me - quietly,” he growls in your ear.

There’s a drop like when you descend in the air on your broom too quickly - your body reacting after your brain. Your core plummets and everything implodes as you sob against his palm, melting into his touch. 

“Good - that’s it, baby,” he says, more softly this time as your orgasm, blinding hot, makes your cunt convulse and clamp around him.

You cum so hard that you think your legs give way - you can’t tell because his strong body pushing yours against the wall keeps you upright. Tingles spasm from your core right down the backs of your thighs. 

Cormac groans too. He moves his hand from your mouth so he can push his hips against your ass and shove his twitching cock as far as it can go inside you. When you whisper his name shakily and tell him you love him, he’s done for. Warmth floods your insides as he cums, filling you up as he grunts into the column of your throat against your racing pulse. 

Even as you’re pressed up against the wall with his cum leaking out of you, you feel like he belongs here with you. Not in the lighthouse - or against the lighthouse - necessarily. Just here. Inside you. With nothing but the sounds of your heaving breathing and waves crashing against the cliffs in the distance to interrupt you. 

Eventually, his mouth breaks into a smile against your skin and his laugh tickles your neck. 

“What’s so funny?” you ask.

“We’ve got a perfectly good bed upstairs and we’re still sneaking around like we used to do under the Quidditch stands at school.”

He pulls out of you carefully and offers you his t-shirt to clean up the mess. You decide it’d be less conspicuous to wash your jeans and underwear in the laundry tomorrow morning than for McLaggen to return back inside suddenly missing a t-shirt.

“We never did that under the Quidditch stands,” you say, turning around and leaning your back against the wall so you can button up your jeans. “We’d have been expelled if we were caught.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure Madam Hooch would have been totally fine if she caught us just doing hand stuff,” he grins.

“Well, we were stupid back then,” you laugh.

“It was fun though. I kind of miss those Quidditch stands.”

“Even when we’re old and married and I’m winning the Quidditch World Cup. I’ll want to meet you under the stands afterwards to celebrate.”

“Yeah, right. If I wait for Scotland to win the Quidditch World Cup for our next fumble under the stands, I’ll die without ever doing it again.”

“You really think I won’t go out of my way to win the Quidditch World Cup just to prove you wrong?”

“Anyone else? No. But you? I’m counting on it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you quietly come back inside the back door to the empty kitchen, you insist on making a cup of tea for yourself and a cup of coffee for McLaggen while he goes upstairs - you insisted that he needs to let you do something for him for once. That beautiful post-sex warmth nestles into your chest and makes between your legs ache pleasantly. Nothing can go wrong when you feel like this. You boil the kettle and set to finding yours and McLaggen’s favourite mugs in the cupboard when a yell from upstairs makes you nearly jump out of your skin.

“Cho?!” It’s McLaggen’s voice. The urgency in his voice makes the hair stand up on the back of your arms.

You run to the bottom of the spiral staircase and skid to a halt, looking up at all the seven floors winding above you. You crane your neck upwards to see McLaggen on the topmost floor looking over the bannister - a small, gold something glints in his hand. A galleon?

“Cormac? Did you see?” Katie’s head appears diagonally across from McLaggen on the floor below. She looks down at you standing in the middle of the kitchen and then up to McLaggen at the top of the lighthouse.

“Whazgoin’on?” yawns Davies, coming out of his bedroom opposite Katie’s. “Are the others back from Puddlemere?”

“Not yet. But they’re about to be.” Leanne pads out onto the landing directly above you in her pyjamas, closely examining a galleon in the palm of her hand. “Merlin’s pants…” 

“Mine just came through too!” Marietta too appears outside her bedroom door, followed by a bleary-eyed Carmichael. She looks up at Katie, Davies and McLaggen.

“Guys, this is it,” says Cho leaning over the bannister across from McLaggen. Krum curiously joins her, looking equally as puzzled as you are.

“Can someone please explain what is going on!?” you bellow from the bottom of the staircase as if calling everyone to attention in Quidditch practice.

“It’s our coins from when we were in the D.A. The old D.A., I mean,” says Marietta. “It’s what we used to find out when the next meetings were.”

“And? What do they say?”

“It’s Neville Longbottom. He says they’re getting ready to fight at Hogwarts and that we’ve to join them,” says Cho.

“Fight?” Your stomach drops. “Fight who? Why?”

“Only one way to find out,” McLaggen replies as you look up at him in disbelief.

He nods at you reassuringly and you take a deep breath. This is what you’ve been preparing for after all, right? It’s not just pretend. You’re simultaneously more and less prepared than when you broke into Azkaban. You’re much better in combat now but god, you need a plan. More details. Something you can control.

You nod. “Alright. Well, we’ll get some rest and meet up first thing tomorrow with Wood and the others so we can come up with -”

“No,” says McLaggen. “Now. They’re fighting now. We need to leave. Right now.”

You look up at him. Absurdly, all you can think now is that you really need to change your jeans.

Chapter 18: Calling

[hayatoseyepatch]

SAMMM HIIIII I THINK I WANNA JOIN YOUR EVENT WITH UME 🥹

some the details about us:

obviously, we are polar opposites from our personalities. while i bring a calmness to his world, he adds so much excitement and joy to mine. clearly brings me out of my shell, makes me enjoy life without silly doubts that can sometimes ruin the fun for me

sooo we really love going ice skating. that's what we are most excited for as soon ad it gets cold. he's awful at it but is so innocently uncaring about making a fool of himself that it helps me get over my shyness and have a good time. i used to be a pro figure skater but dropped it for unfortunate reasons and always regretted it. just imagine him falling on his ass and looking up with his silly cute grin ugh

another thing i love and made him enjoy is going to christmas markets and explore everything but since i can get super overwhelmed in big crowds, having him by my side is a sort of security that i missed before; it's so easy to have a good time

definitely have to try all the new seasonal items. he's a big eater, so i can get a taste of everything without having to worry about food waste hehe

new years eve!! definitely a little party with everyone and a hot spring get-away trip the day after to start into the new year relaxed and cozy is a tradition by now

preferences: i love this season for the winter, less for christmas. always love the snow, the pale blues, winter sunshine, new years eve, snow, cozy cuddle sessions :>

i couldn't resist to include my selfship art hehe @/catyypss

THE WAY I WAS SO EXCITED FOR THIS ASK. Listen you know you and Ume is one of my favorite ships ever. So I absolutely RAN at the opputunity to do this.

I love how well you and Ume compliment eachother, you balance eachother out so perfectly and its so beautiful. You ground him and he pulls you out of your comfort zone a bit and I love love love it.

You know that this is canon absolutely 100 percent. You, me, Ume, and Suo have our double date nights always. I tried to keep more of a winter theme for this one with a little sprinkle of holiday. I hope you like it my beloved Winter!! ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

Suprise! A little drabble for you ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

Umemiya hummed happily, holding your ankle as he removed your boots, sliding your foot into the skates. Languidly lacing them for you, pressing a kiss to each of your knees as he completed his task.

“How’s that baby? Not too tight right?”

He beams when you confirm they were laced appropriately, going to work putting on his own skates before going to touch your shoes in the cubby. He wouldn’t lie, he was a bit nervous, having never skated before himself. But, when you had told him your love for it, how could he possibly not set this up? Umemiya would do anything to make you smile, even if that meant making a fool of himself. As he approached you once more, he offered you his signature smile and a hand as you both made your way to the ice, already feeling a bit unsteady on his feet.

“Okay, angel, you just gotta promise me you wont laugh at me too much when I do eventually bust my as, okay?”

He laughs, awarded with the melodic sound of your laughter, gasping playfully when you shoot back a ‘no promises, Haji’. Dramatically spalling a hand over his chest in mock offense.

“Fine then, I’m tasking you with the safety of my butt, my love.”

He hangs onto the guardrails, perfectly content in watching from the sidelines at the graceful way you glide along the ice. You were always nothing less than stunning in his eyes, but seeing you so in your element had him falling in love with you all over again. He smiled when you approached him once more, taking his hands in yours as you pulled him aways from the wall. He was fine for a while, keeping steady on his feet. However he got too cock, deciding to move on his own.

Big mistake.

He felt his skate slide against the slippery surface of the ice, grabbing your waist for balance only to bring you down with him. Yelping as he went sown, lading flat on his ass, gripping onto you so he took the brunt of the fall. Your eyes wide in shock from the loss of balance, looking up at him with concern flashing across your features.

“Shit, Haji are you okay?”

Your concerned tone is met with a loud peal of laughter. Just smiling up at you before he pulls you down, placing a sweet kiss to your lips before the two of you fumble to stand. Once you secure your balance once more he rubs the back of his neck.

“I guess I need more practice, huh?”

[writinghotchner]

Twas The Night Before Christmas...

fandom: criminal minds pairing: emily prentiss/aaron hotchner rating: E words: 2,106 tags/warnings: no warnings, mentions of christmas and baking, dad girl!aaron, cute family fluff, slightly distressed emily

Click below to read, or read on Ao3!

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, except for Aaron and Emily's 1 year old daughter who was wrecking havoc with the kitchen cabinets. Her new favorite thing was to stand in the kitchen and slam the cabinets repeatedly squealing the loudest, happiest squeal imaginable.

As soon as Charlotte was able to stand on her own, all she wanted to do was slam anything that had doors. The cabinets in the kitchen once had baby-proof locks on them all but Charlotte quickly let her parents know just how much she hated those dang contraptions, so Aaron removed one from them just so she could slam it closed in happy bliss. They'd easily admit to enjoying hearing her laughing screams over her angry ones any day.

Emily stood in the kitchen trying her hardest not to have a complete mental breakdown as she desperately tried to finish baking cookies for Dave's big Christmas party. Dave took on cooking the actual food and Emily had volunteered to bake some goodies since baking was more her forte than actual cooking.

Between the loud commotion of her daughter's gleeful screams, the very loud repeated slamming of her kitchen cabinets and forgetting where she put her grandmother's famous cookie recipe and having to do it completely by memory, she was on the tail end of an overstimulated meltdown.

Just as she was about to grab her phone and call Aaron to see what was taking so long at the store she had sent him to (she already knew- it was Christmas Eve, the stores were probably packed with last minute shoppers), he came barreling into the house covered in snow and quickly throwing out an apology.

Charlotte only stopped slamming the cabinet doors once she heard her father's voice and quickly pushed herself back onto her butt so she could crawl over to her mother. Emily was rounding the kitchen island to get to the oven when her daughter latched on to her leg and helped herself up by bunching Emily's pajama pants into her little fists and babbling 'ma ma ma ma' over and over again until she was picked up.

"Hang on, baby, I need to check the cookies real quick," Emily told her as she shuffled her feet slowly across the floor as to not knock Charlotte down. Aaron nearly sprinted into the kitchen, setting the brown paper bag full of Emily's requested items onto the counter.

"Sorry it took so long," he apologized again. "There were surprisingly a lot of people at the store fighting for what small amount of things were left on the shelves."

Emily hummed a response, letting her husband know she heard him but didn't say anything further. Charlotte still clung to her pants leg still yelling for Emily to pick her up. Emily closed the oven door after quickly checking the cookies and then picked up her daughter who then immediately almost launched herself out of her mother's arms to get to Aaron. Emily quickly tightened her grip on her before she could fly out of her arms which only caused Charlotte to yell. Aaron stepped up to them both opening his hands up for his daughter who squeaked as she clambered out of Emily's arms to get to his.

He watched his wife sigh and close her eyes. Her tongue darted out of her mouth to quickly wet her lips. Aaron reached over to grab her wrist, running a soothing thumb over it. "Go sit down and take a break. I've got her and I'll keep an eye on things in here."

She quickly leaned over to kiss him on the lips and then eagerly left the kitchen. She all but ragdolled onto the couch throwing her head back against it and closing her eyes. The kitchen wasn't too far away from where she was, but far enough away that everything was quieter. She sucked in a deep breath to collect herself and relax. She loved her daughter, but this stage of banging on everything and constantly screaming for one of her parent's to pay attention to her was driving her mad, especially since she'd been home all day with her and didn't have a lick of time to herself- minus the whole thirty minute nap that Charlotte had earlier in the day. It was nearly 9 pm and Emily wasn't sure how their daughter was managing to stay awake with so much energy after only having such a short nap.

She was quickly knocked out of her thoughts when she heard the cabinets slamming again. She sighed with a chuckle when she could hear her yelling 'da da da da' over and over again and Aaron playfully yelling over the slamming doors.

She was about to abandon her semi-quiet alone time when she saw Aaron out of the corner of her eye. He stepped into the living room with Charlotte under his left arm like he was holding a football.

"The timer for this batch went off, do you want me to put them in the containers and put in the next batch?" He dramatically bounced their daughter which caused her to full on belly laugh, he legs flailing wilding behind him.

"Yeah, go ahead, I'm right behind you."

"I got it, you can stay there."

She stood up anyway, playfully rolling her eyes at him. "I still have to make the brownies." To which he easily responded, "I can do that, too."

"I know you can, but it's hard to do all of that when you have a one year old glued to you, trust me." She reached her arms out for her daughter and Charlotte giggled loudly as Aaron pretended to drop her. "Mama!" Charlotte yelled reaching out for her, her whole body shaking in a giggle fit.

"Oh, mama can't save you!" Aaron cackled. Keeping her side-ways under his arm, he bounced off to the kitchen, the small amount of hair on her head bouncing with her father's exaggerated stomps.

Emily followed laughing at their silly antics. Aaron maneuvered Charlotte right side up so that she had her legs around his back and chest, and his arm underneath her butt. He pulled the cookies out of the oven and began putting them in the containers on the counter. Emily joined him, helping him with the lids since he was one-handed. As soon as Charlotte saw her, she started crying for her and kicking herself out of Aaron's arms.

"Whoa, Char. You're gunna fall if you keep doing that," he told her as he quickly used both hands to grab her. Of course that didn't stop her, she kept kicking her feet and yelling for Emily until she finally stepped back and let Charlotte practically fall into her arms.

"I got this," Aaron told her again, nodding to the cookies on the counter. She stood back, not really having a choice as her daughter clung to her chest. She pressed her face into Emily's neck, wriggling her nose as if trying to burrow into her mother's skin- a tell tale sign that she was getting tired.

Emily held her close, resting her cheek on the top of her head. "Are you ready for bed, sweet girl? It's been such a long day, hm?"

Of course, Charlotte protested. "Okay, okay." Emily chuckled. "Do you want down?" She tried to lean down to set her feet on the floor but Charlotte clung tighter to her and whined.

At that, Aaron turned around opening his hands back up to his daughter. "Wanna help daddy put the cookies on the baking sheet?" She grunted a mean noise, adjusting herself in Emily's arms, hiding her face even more in her neck.

"You've had mommy all day. Can I have Charlotte time?" Charlotte pulled back slightly from her mother to look at Aaron and whined another angry noise, this time with a playful, albeit, mischievous smile on her face.

"Okay, fine. Can I have mommy time? I haven't seen her allllll daaay." He stepped up to his wife and quickly pecked her on the lips, leaning over their daughter to do it which caused Charlotte to take her foot, plant it directly on his chest and shove him away.

Emily snorted a laugh. "That's not very nice, Char." Charlotte only giggled.

Aaron tried again, this time purposely smooshing Charlotte between them, his arms circling around Emily and slightly squeezing. "Mommy and Char time it is, then." He kissed Emily again and then kissed the top of their daughter's head. She didn't protest this time.

"Want me to put her down?" Aaron asked, his arms still around them. They began to slightly sway. Charlotte let out a small yawn, rubbing her face into Emily's chest again, her eyes drifting shut.

"If she'll let you."

Aaron pulled back and took her out of Emily's arms easily, the toddler quickly giving up the fight to stay awake. Aaron hugged her to his chest, kissing the top of her head again before kissing Emily again.

"Be back in a few," he told her and then disappeared out of the kitchen.

Emily busied herself with placing the cookie dough on the baking sheet and putting them in the oven and then starting the brownie batter. She was putting the last of the cookies into the containers and shoving the brownies in the oven when she heard her husband walk back into the kitchen.

"She go down without a fight?" She asked closing the oven door and turning to face him. She leaned her back against the counter while she used a towel to wipe her hands.

Aaron chuckled. "She kept asking for you, but we managed."

She smiled at him and he was quick to step up to her, kissing her once again and pulling her into a proper hug. "You okay?" he asked.

Emily hummed thoughtfully. "Yeah, it's just been a day. She only went down for a thirty minute nap around noon and she's been an energizer bunny ever since."

"I'm sorry I couldn't come home sooner," he tells her almost sadly. She huffs a laugh. "It's not a problem, honey."

"I know, but I know what it's like to be alone with her when she's in her full on energizer bunny mode. Remember when you went out with JJ and Penelope a few weeks ago and I was only here with her for three hours? I almost called you crying."

She full on laughs at that which causes him to smile. "Are you tired?" She asks him suddenly. He cocks an eyebrow at her. "Why?"

She lets her arms that are around his neck fall to his chest. "We can finish this up and...go to bed." She licks her lips, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth.

"This your way of asking for baby number 3?" Aaron wiggles his eyebrows at her. She slaps his chest. "If you knock me up with baby number 3 any time soon, I'm kicking your ass."

"Promises, promises," Aaron says, stamping his lips to hers again.

" Oh, Jack called earlier, wanted me to tell you Merry Christmas."

"Ah yes, baby number 1. He having fun with Jess?" She leans her head down on his shoulder.

"From what I can tell. She got him a new bike and gave it to him early so he's been outside most of the day."

She hums. "That explains why he didn't answer his phone when I called him this morning."

"Boys and their toys." He says, pulling her even closer to him, giving her a small squeeze.

They stood like that for a while before Aaron pulled away. "We have a few minutes on these brownies, why don't you go get ready for bed. I can finish up in here."

She tried to protest but he untangled her from himself and nudged her towards their bedroom. "You've been on your feet all day, go get in bed." He nudged her towards their bedroom, swatting her butt playfully as she sauntered away.

"I can't promise I'll still be awake when you get done." She says over her shoulder.

"That's okay," He tells her. "I can have fun without you."

She turns at that, bursting into a loud laugh.

"That's not how baby number 3 gets made, honey." She throws a quick wink and smile at him before she dips inside their bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Aaron stood in the kitchen dumbfounded and desperately trying to speed up time so he could get these brownies put up and make his way to his wife.

[sendpseuds]

WIP Wednesday - Hot Chocolate

Here. Have some unconventional family dynamics 🖤

“This place is adorable,” Padme remarks, not for the first time since they sat down at the little round cafe table, bathed in light from the large bay window, “How did you find it?”

“Apparently, the hot chocolate I made last week was ‘sub-optimal,’— ” Anakin explains, shooting a sideways glance at his very opinionated daughter, who raises an eyebrow in response, “—I still want to know who taught a five-year-old that term—,” he knows it’s just from hearing Padme on work calls, and the way she laughs makes him smile, “—so I went on a search for the best hot chocolate in the city. Almost every list had this place at the top.”

It’s obvious to see why, aside from the bustling crowd and buzzing atmosphere, the menu boasts over a dozen different hot chocolates, each more indulgent than the last — The way the twins are practically vibrating in their seats, waiting as patiently as possible for their treat, their eyes widening every time they see another sugary concoction pass their table tells him the search was well worth the effort.

Big-time dad points right here.

“Well, it’s an excellent find,” Padme smiles, giving his arm a quick squeeze and muttering something about how much she likes the wall sconces. 

It’s a bit eclectic, a handful of tables scattered throughout the space with several vignettes of comfortable-looking couches and chairs that look as if they were bought from various garage sales, but the place is so warm and welcoming it feels as if every last thing was chosen with intention and purpose. 

The books that line the shelves along the back wall all look well-loved, their spines cracked and dust jackets removed. There are vines snaking along the walls that Anakin assumed were fake until he followed the path back to the little terra cotta pots from which the greenery originates. Twinkle lights and paper snowflakes litter the ceiling and it’s hard not to feel in the holiday spirit sitting in a place like this. 

Anakin used to hate Christmas Eve.

The excited anticipation was always lost on him as a child, preferring to fast forward to the part where he got to find out what was in all those boxes. He would lay in bed with his eyes squeezed shut, willing time to move faster, desperate for morning to break. 

Now he finds, he likes to hold on to the bright buzzing energy of the night before Christmas — festive and frantic with last-minute errands and cheerful expectation — now he loves to watch the way two small perfect humans smile and shine with all the promise tomorrow brings. 

For them, tomorrow brings treats and toys and twinkle lights.

For them, magic and wonder replace reality for a day.

For them.

For Anakin—

Luke lets out an excited little gasp and Anakin turns to see four spectacular mugs of hot chocolate heading toward their table. He smiles, looking back at the twins just to watch the way their eyes grow wider and wider, sparkling with sheer excitement as the mugs draw closer and closer.

“Who wants some hot chocolate?” A smooth voice asks, the twins responding in affirmative screeches, waving their hands in the air for emphasis and Anakin can’t help but join in, answering “Me!” as he turns to look at the man who’d asked the question.

Anakin’s heart stops.

The shrieking children go silent in his ears. Padme’s soft laughter a million miles away.

The first thing he notices is not the full Santa suit the man wears or the way the kind smile fades from his lips half a moment after his gaze scans over Anakin’s face.

No, the first thing Anakin notices is his eyes.

Not how bright and beautiful they are.

Not how they appear to shift and swirl even in the seconds they stare at each other.

No.

Anakin notices how familiar they are. 

Except the last time Anakin saw those eyes, they weren’t looking down at him with startled shock.

Last time Anakin saw those eyes they were staring up through copper lashes from the floor of a dirty bar bathroom as the man currently holding a tray of hot chocolate swallowed Anakin’s cock.

“These look amazing.”

Padme’s words seem to shake both men from their shocked stupor and Anakin finally notices the red hat on the man’s head and the way the big white pom pom sits on a strong shoulder. 

He’s just as handsome as Anakin remembers.

“They— they really are something,” the man agrees, his eyes flitting quickly around the table, trying to make sense of the situation, concern and guilt and horror flooding his gaze with every passing moment and Anakin knows he should say something but he can’t figure out what. Cozy cafe Santa clears his throat and shifts his weight, mumbling a quick, “Right, yes, chocolate—” and setting the tray on the table before asking “Who ordered the white chocolate?”

The words tumble out of Anakin’s mouth before he can stop them.

“My ex-wife!”

Everyone looks at Anakin.

[Well, everyone but Luke, who is still fixated on the four mugs in front of him.]

“Uh— Padme,” he corrects, motioning to the woman sitting by his side — he doesn’t dare look at her — as if that would explain his sudden outburst, “Padme, right here, she— uh— she’s my— she ordered the white chocolate.”

He’s chewing his lip and rubbing the back of his neck and Santa is blushing as he places a tall glass mug in front of Padme — luscious and creamy, topped with thick whipped cream and pretty chocolate curls — but the horrible guilt seems to be draining from the man’s beguiling blue eyes.  “Thank you,” purrs Padme, her tone teasing and Anakin knows the exact smile she wears before he shoots her a pleading look, to which she only chuckles.